#me when i used to have strength but i ran out of hope and i know its my fault that im here all alone

[entitled-fangirl]

Mind and Body.

Cregan Stark x chronic illness Targaryen!reader

Summary: Cregan visits King's Landing, spotting a princess who'd been hidden away due to her constant illness. He's enamored.

A/n: based on an ask!

Masterlist

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"Lord Stark," Alicent greeted. "How wonderful for you to journey so far."

There was an agreement for the Warden to visit every five years to ensure his loyalty to the Realm and vice versa. Not that King Viserys was ever worried about Cregan. But the North was far and it was important to each side to check on the development of the other.

"'Tis only my duty to the North," he answered. 

The two walked quietly to the council room. Viserys had quickly grown ill, so most business would be conducted there. When he was well enough to go.

Which meant Alicent and Otto were in charge of their meetings when the king was absent.

…

The initial greeting was pleasant, even if the king was slowly decaying in front of him.

But Cregan had been free to wander around the castle as their guest. The next talk of business would not be until the morning, so he decided to take advantage of that.

The sun was beginning to set, just a hint of the dark creeping onto King's Landing. Cregan stood on the balcony overlooking the courtyard. Even their cold nights here were hotter than the chill of a warm Northern day.

"Princess, surely you should rest!"

His head snapped back towards the open doors behind him. His curiosity was beyond peaked. Princess Helaena was fine. He'd given her a brief nod and a polite acknowledgement hours ago.

And soon enough, a ghostly presence passed by the doorway. Cregan felt his breath catch.

Silver hair. Grey complexion. And a gown and cloak that dragged with every step.

He was struck.

Her guard followed behind, a resigned look in his eyes.

"I feel fine," her voice softly commented. It was weak, like she never used it.

As they journeyed down the corridor, the voices faded and Cregan found himself following them.

"You've still yet to regain your strength from your scare last week. You'll catch a chill," her guard reprimanded. His armor clunked together with each step, a reminder of the life he abided by.

She was like a gust of wind that chilled you from the bottom to top of your spine. And Cregan quite enjoyed the cold.

"I only wish to leave my chambers for a moment." Her movements were slow and lethargic, yet graceful and calculated. 

"You should have waited for me to gather your boots. I have no doubt the stone is freezing over. Please."

Cregan noted just how comfortable this guard was with telling the Princess off. They'd obviously gotten to know one another well.

She released a ragged sigh, pausing in her steps to look over her shoulder. "I-" She froze completely at the sight of Cregan behind them. She hadn't even heard him following, and he didn't make himself known.

Her guard followed her line of sight with ease, immediately moving into a defensive position at the sight of the large stranger.

"Forgive me," Cregan immediately covered, holding his hands out to show he wasn't a threat. He took cautious steps forward more into the light of the nearest window so he could be more seen. "My curiosity got the better of me."

Her guard turned, relying on the princess for her answer to the situation. It was up to her, after all.

Her head tilted to the side and she stepped past him to close in on Cregan.

As she neared, he noticed just how shallow her cheeks were sunken in. The grey in her complexion was an unwelcome one. Her eyes held a dullness to them, despite the intensity of their gaze. 

"Cregan Stark, my princess," he greeted, tipping his head down and holding out a hand. He only hoped she'd accept it.

She stared for a while before remembrance ran through her. "Stark of the North. Right." She took his invitation, a shaky hand falling on his.

He noted how cold they were. But he stashed that fact away and kissed her knuckles gently as any gentleman should.

He also noted the ready look in the guard's eyes. Like he'd pummel him just for stepping a toe out of line.

"I can't say I've had the pleasure of meeting you," Cregan continued, letting her hand fall back to her side. "How the Crown has hidden a pretty girl away, I cannot understand."

For once, her lips quirked up on the ends, a soft breath escaping her nose. She finds his comment humorous. "You mustn't lie."

True, she's a bit worse for wear, but she still holds the Targaryen beauty that's so coveted. 

"I have not yet," he insists. "Nor do I intend to."

She gets antsy, unsure what to say. Her guard catches on and steps up to the pair. "Excuse us, Lord Stark. Princess Y/n much needs her rest."

"Of course. Excuse my ignorance. Please." His last word is directed right at her as if assuring she'd understand that he meant no harm in his actions before.

She still doesn't speak, only staring as her guard gently turns her back to where they were coming from. "Please start moving back to your room. I will catch up with you in a moment."

She doesn't fight, beginning the willowy trek back to her room. Slow steps once again.

Both watched until she turned the corner, and her guard's worried face switched immediately to questioning. "Ser Criston Cole, Commander of the City Guard," he introduced himself. "Might I ask your reason for following the princess?"

"I only saw her pass through the doorway. Curiosity truly got the better of me. I've not seen her around-"

"-and you won't," Criston finished. "Between you and I, it would be better if you forgot her entirely."

The Stark was thrown off by Criston's sudden aggression. And so he got defensive. "The Crown cannot simply hide away a vital member of its lineage!"

Criston grabbed Cregan's collar with both fists. "I'd warn you to walk away from this now." He was older than him, clearly trying to use that as an intimidation tactic.

Too bad nothing intimidated the Wolf of the North.

"And if I do not?"

"The Crown doesn't take it lightly when its weakest member is targeted."

"What is wrong with her?"

Criston, realizing his intimidation is doing nothing, lets go of him. He gives a glare that clearly says 'none of your fucking business' and begins to walk off in the direction of the princess. "Stick to snow and barbarianism, Cregan Stark!" He calls over his shoulder.

If anything, the guard's gall encourages Cregan. He loves a challenge.

…

The next time he spotted her was while sparring. The training courtyard of King's Landing was very different from that of Winterfell, but he took the opportunity to train with gratitude. 

It was quite amusing to see Cregan sweating profusely in a thin tunic while the others wore multiple layers.

Not that he would brag about his adherence to the cold. Out loud, anyway. In his head was different.

And when his eyes wandered up the castle walls, there she was. 

Seated in a comfortable chair on her tiny balcony that was clearly drug in and out every night she sat. She was covered in a thick fur, but there she was. Maybe the outdoor air brought her comfort. Her handmaiden brushed through the woman's overly shiny locks.

It was hard to tell exactly what she was looking at, but it was clearly in his direction, so he did his best to avoid staring.

Easier said than done.

Every few hits, he'd find himself looking up to make sure she was still there. She truly felt like a ghost, potentially disappearing now that he'd spotted her.

But she didn't. She only watched from above.

…

By the fifth day of meeting with Alicent and Otto, he brought it up.

"I also couldn't help but notice the princess you keep hidden from sight. I want to ask about her."

Alicent had been waiting for this. Criston had tattled on the man that first night. 

Otto was more amused. "Ah yes. I believe it's time we spoke of her. For once."

The queen gripped the chair tightly, earning a small 'tsk' from her father. "What is there to say? She's sickly."

Cregan leaned forward in his chair. "Why keep her locked away from the people?"

"She is not-" Alicent calmed herself and began again. "She is not 'locked away.' She is too ill to attend matters. That is all I wish to say of it."

"Humor the boy," Otto reprimanded. "Once you've spotted her, she's hard to forget."

"Forgive me for my bluntness," Cregan continued. "What illness does she carry?"

Alicent forced herself to keep speaking. "The maesters don't know. We've brought in every kind of maester and septon we could find. It just… comes and goes like the tide. You've not seen her at her healthy side, and for that, I am sorry. She can be a joy when she feels alive."

"She looks like death, no doubt," Otto asked Cregan.

"Like she's seen through its eyes," he agreed. "But not completely dead. There's still a small flame."

Otto liked that answer, smiling. "I like that. Now, back to the North…"

Cregan couldn't wait for the next sighting.

…

Had he stayed up late in the library, just hoping to see a glimpse of her during the dark hours? Yes. But he wouldn't admit that to anyone.

But it paid off. 

Like clockwork, she journeyed through the open doorway to the library, pausing when she spotted Cregan.

And she changed her course, moving into the room.

He felt that gust up his spine again, though it eased within moments.

She looked a little better. There was just a tiny increase of color to her cheeks than the last encounter.

Perhaps she was getting better.

"Do you always watch the men train from your balcony?" He braved to ask. He wanted the answer. He needed to hear if it was a special occurrence for him.

"No," her soft answer came.

He felt thrill warm his face. "Then why do it now?"

"I had to… cool myself. I was feverish."

Well, now he feels like a dick for trying to flirt with a woman close to death.

"Forgive me. I meant no offense."

"'S alright." Her attention turned to the vast shelves aligning the walls. 

He looked around too, though not in that direction. "Where's Ser Criston?"

She manages a smile and gazes back at him. "Think I can't outrun my guard dog?"

He exhales with a guilty look. "I truly don't believe you can, Princess."

"Good. You're right." She moves past him. "He was excused for the night. I snuck out during guard change."

"Quick," he remarked, watching her journey one of the large wooden tables there and sit. "I want to know more about you."

"There is not much to know." She rested her head in her hand. "Though, I can entertain your questions enough."

"Alright. Your age."

"Eight and ten."

He nodded. That was only a two years difference. "Have you always been sick?"

"No. I developed a horrid fever when I was four. No one thought that I'd make it. And I never really recovered. I've been stuck in this… state."

"And the kingdom just… forgot?"

She shrugs. "When the King never announced the recovery of his daughter… they make assumptions."

"Do they believe you to be dead?"

"I don't know what they believe. I don't talk to them."

A sadness filled Cregan at her declaration. He was beginning to realize just how much he takes his health for granted. He couldn't imagine a day without greeting his people. It felt like a stake in his heart. "Then I apologize for disrupting that when I spotted you in the hall that night. I should have kept to myself."

"No," she mused. "I'm grateful that you did not."

His head tilts. "Truly?"

She grows a tired smile. "I've never met a Northerner."

"And now that you have?"

Her eyes lazily travel over his body, taking her time to appreciate every part. When her eyes met his again, her smile only grew.

…

Cregan's three week stay was now entering its final week. He had found himself over and over again running into the silver-haired princess.

He tried to keep their meetings stashed away in his mind, but the look Otto gave him over dinner had told him he'd done a poor job of it.

So, there they all sat. Cregan Stark and the Targaryen dynasty- Otto and Alicent, Aegon II, and Aemond. Helaena found herself often staying within her chamber, eating with her young children. Sometimes eating with her ill sister when the two grew lonely.

Cregan was never good at small talk. He was a man that always got straight to the point. And the arrangements between the Crown and the North were at a standstill. It caused a light tension over the food.

They just couldn't agree. With the death of Viserys nearing, Cregan wished for reassurance that the next King or Queen would hold the North's arrangements. Alicent's word wasn't enough to reassure him. He needed more.

But that argument was hours ago, and now they all sat awkwardly over their plates.

Cregan had managed to bond with Aemond briefly over discussions of blacksmiths and longswords. It was something he knew well, and the prince clearly had an interest in it. It was better than sitting in silence.

Aegon had no interest whatsoever. He drank away his worries, no doubt planning his next trip out into the night.

"We all heard the rumor," Aemond mused through his quirked lips.

"Rumor?" Stark asked, sipping from his cup.

At the sudden question, each of the royals heads tipped up. They needed to know the truth.

Aemond smirked and leaned forward. His voice lowered. "That you killed a bear with nothing but a club and your hands."

He looked around the table, seeing everyone's eyes on him. He cleared his throat and set his goblet down with a light thud. 

A nod.

A collective intimidated breath fell across the table.

Aemond was impressed. He tipped his cup to the Northman and took a swig.

"Your Grace," a guard interrupted, bowing his head. "Princess Y/n," he announced.

Cregan didn't catch the others reactions, instead turning as much as he could in the direction of the door.

He'd feasted with them for over two weeks and only now did the ill princess join them.

She had color to her cheeks now, the light pink standing out beautifully. Lively. 

She was finally in a gown fit for a princess, deciding to uphold her appearance. 

She clearly wanted to be there.

It was quiet as each step echoed until she reached the seat next to Aegon. The prince reached out, tugging her chair back to encourage her to sit.

Now seated across from Cregan, her eyes met his.

And she smiled.

"It's good to see you up," Otto announced. "I didn't dare to think you'd recovered this well."

She watched the servants tend to her. "Neither did I, but Criston was nearing the idea of simply locking me in my room to get me to rest."

They all found that relatively amusing. Except for Alicent, who only stared with a guilty look. They all knew the queen was sleeping with the Commander of the Guard. She ordered him around like a dog, having him watch her ill daughter like a hawk.

"It is," Cregan spoke, clearing his throat again, "It is good to see you." His voice was softer, clearly meant for her. His eyes took her in a way the gods would scorn. Like she was something to worship.

When healthy, he thought she was a version of the earth itself. Like the warmest day in Winterfell when the wind was just cool enough to remind you to be awake. Or the beauty of falling snow. It bites when you get too close, but he wouldn't be frightened of death in its embrace. She was not sunshine or light, but she was beautiful in her own way, dragging death alongside her wherever she went.

His eyes only left hers when he heard Aegon clear his throat obnoxiously. 

"Sister, I thought you were dining with Helaena tonight?"

"The twins were… rather tiring today and she wished to rest instead."

He nodded, accepting that answer, but his eyes were trained on Cregan now, squinting as if he could read him. His fingers picked the meat off of a bone on his plate absentmindedly.

Alicent was about the same, recognizing the longing look in the Wolf's eyes.

…

The princess had excused herself early from dinner, still not entirely up to the usual standard of supping like the others.

That gave Cregan no excuse when Alicent dismissed everyone except for him.

So here he is, stuck sitting at the large table and Alicent paces around it like a lion and its prey.

"I don't like the way you look at her," she started. "She is ill. Have you no morals?"

"Like what?" Cregan challenged. "Look at her in what way?"

"Like you want her."

Her bluntness is not something he expected. He's a bit thrown off. But the queen isn't entirely wrong. "Your Grace-"

"-Do not give her false hope," Alicent says in a lower tone. A pleading one. "She cannot take a heartbreak. She cannot take any outside occurrences tormenting her. She'd surely die."

In truthfulness, Cregan had not considered what would happen if she did grow attached, only for him to leave. The thought hurts. "I mean no harm to her. She is magnificent."

Alicent pauses like the words were poison. "Do not lie to me." Her anger grows. "She is ill. She will always be ill. She'll spent her life in her chamber, in her bed. Do not act like that is not the case."

"Meaning what, my queen?"

"That she could never be a wife."

…

The queen's words had haunted Cregan more than he cared to admit. He mostly hated that she might be right.

When he saw the princess again the next day, she was more chipper than he'd ever seen her before. 

"Lord Stark!" She greeted, her steps a bit quicker than before, though still not he'd consider fast.

He gave a brief smile, continuing his walk down the corridor.

Her face fell a bit. "I-Is something wrong?"

"No. I'm only rushing to meet with your mother."

She sighed, trying to keep up with him. "I thought you did not meet again until the morrow."

"You'd be correct in that."

His tone was matter of fact, no room for the gentle pronunciations he'd used before. It was clearly hurting her. It hurt him, too. But he was on a mission.

So she stopped, watching the Northerner walk away with heavy footsteps.

…

He threw the doors open, not waiting for the guards to do it. "I've decided you're wrong."

It was a bold move, causing the Queen to stand and frown. Not many challenged her, especially in this way. To arrange a meeting midday and then enter in this fashion? Suicide.

Otto was amused, not moving from his seat. He gestured to a chair in encouragement.

But Cregan stood, his hands flat on the tabletop. "You've promised the agreement will continue to the next ruler in line, and I said I could not take your word. That I needed more proof of your insistence. Well, I know what I want."

"I appreciate a man who is bold, Lord Stark, but I implore you not to make demands of the Crown," Otto tried to ease.

"No," Cregan began again, his anger turning to Otto. "Though I doubt there will be much fight to this demand. After all, it seems you will not notice its absence."

"And what is that?"

He paused. "The princess. The one hidden away from prying eyes. I will make her my wife. If she'll have me."

Otto was genuinely not expecting that. Alicent grew angry. "That is my daughter! You will not take her away like a bartered cow!"

"That was not my intention. But fine. Let me rephrase." The Wolf rolled his shoulders back, standing tall before the two. " I wish to court your daughter. No alliance involved. No quill to parchment. No deals. This is not part of our agreement."

"How is it not?"

"If you let me court her, it means you have faith in the North. In me. I don't need a parchment to say that."

Otto sighed. "Let me get this clear. You wish to marry a princess of whom will spend her life half dead?"

Cregan shrugged. "Half dead is half alive. And I like the odds. I like her."

"Surely she won't last in the North," Alicent reasoned. "The second the air seeps through your window, she'll die."

"The same way she's dying here?"

That shut Alicent up.

"There are great maesters in the North. They know the effects of the cold on the body. I have no fear of that. I'll tend to the fires in her chamber myself if I must- even collect the wood myself if you're so frightened. I am no idiot. I can keep her alive and happy."

The two considered the man's proposal. It was a strange one. But they recalled the look between him and her at dinner the night before.

"She'll never give you children," Alicent said with remorse.

He nodded. "I'm prepared to deal with that."

Otto look to the Queen, giving a tilt of his head.

She sighed. "If she wants you, she's yours."

…

Three days left in his stay, and he had spent two days without seeing her.

He didn't wish to go to her chamber. She deserved the privacy. That and… he didn't know where it was. 

So instead, he resorted to staying up late, hoping she'd appear. 

She didn't.

…

Criston Cole passed Cregan, a glare in his eyes.

Cregan followed, grabbing the guard from behind and pinning him against the wall. "Where is she?"

Criston hissed through his teeth. "Why do you assume I've hidden her?"

"Tell me."

He spit in the Wolf's face.

Cregan only blinked, the rest of his face unflinching. "Where is she?"

"In her room. Where she always is," he seethed.

Cregan's head tilted menacingly.

Criston continued. "West wing. Up the stairs, the door at the end."

He slammed the guard against the wall one more time for good measure, then stormed off.

…

He knocked on the door, and her handmaiden answered. "Oh. You're not the maester."

He frowned. "The maester?"

A soft voice came from inside the room, catching the handmaiden's attention. She nodded and opened the door for him.

He stepped in.

The princess laid on her bed, looking quite literally like death. It was worse than the first time he'd sighted her.

She was thinner, her cheeks sunken in again, her skin the dull grey he hated. Her hair was greased with sweat. Yet at the sight of him, she tried to give a weak smile.

Nearing her side, he sighed. "I had… I had no idea, Princess."

Her handmaiden moved to the other side of the bed, going back to dabbing the princess's forehead with a wet cloth. 

Y/n hummed at the chill. "'S alright."

"So, these are the ill spells you were speaking of." It was a statement, rather than a question.

"Yes," she sighed. "'S so sudden."

"I see that." He reached out to her hand, brushing his fingers over hers. He didn't want to overstep. But she was the one to intertwine their fingers. 

He spent the rest of the day in there, leaving when the maester entered. He stopped him, leaning in to speak lowly to the doctor. "I want you to feed her meat. Lamb, pig, I do not care. But have it brought to her."

…

The maester did as he commanded. And the next day when Cregan visited, she was chipper.

Was she entirely well? No. But the protein had her sitting up in bed, speaking to her handmaiden as her hair was being braided.

It warmed Cregan.

He grinned when he entered, sitting at her side comfortably now. "You look much better."

"I feel better," she smiled. "The maester said you helped."

"That's ridiculous. What do I know about health?"

But they both knew. They all knew.

"Mother told me something odd."

He froze. "Oh?"

"That you wish to marry me."

He took a deep breath, trying desperately to calm his nerves. Perhaps she's rejecting him.

"Is that true?"

He nodded, his fingers playing with hers. "It is. If you'll have me."

She smiled, gently waving her handmaiden off now that her hair was done. The girl left with a knowing grin.

"I'll have you, Cregan Stark."

He cupped her face, brushing his thumb over the light pink in her cheeks. "Then I am a lucky man."

…

And in the North, she blossomed. 

He kept a steady diet of red meat for her, watching as she no longer spent every day in their chamber, even getting to journey out to the courtyards and sit through petitions. 

The two spent every night cuddled under the furs of their bed. The fire always burned, he made sure of it. 

Her mind loved Cregan, and now her body could too.

................................................

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[ladysharmaa]

My miracle

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

summary: Anthony’s wife is in labor and it’s not looking good

warnings: mentions of death

“Where is she?” the loud voice of Anthony was heard in the entire mansion. The door he opened slammed into the wall but he couldn’t care less as he saw some servants running his way to take off his coat. “Tell me where my wife is!”

“My apologies, my Lord.” the poor man trembled under the Lord’s menacingly glare, that were just a cover for the worry and fear that was running though his veins. “The Viscountess is in your chambers. The midwife and your mother are already present with her. Shall I inform your brothers to come and wait with you until the child is born?”

Anthony didn’t bother to respond. He quickly climbed the stairs, two steps at once, seeing with wide eyes as the maids ran to his room with towels in their hands. He doesn't even settle for knocking, immediatly opening the bedroom door. None of his mother's stories could have prepared him for the sight that lay ahead.

His darling wife was drenched in sweat, dressed in her nightdown. One hand was on her round belly protectively while the other was in his mother’s hands, who was whispering words of comfort. Her jaw was clenched in pain and it was only then that he noticed the midwife between the Viscountess legs. 

“You!” Y/n screamed accusingly, managing to point a finger at Anthony with hatred. “You did this to me! You will never ever put your hands on me again!”

“I-” Anthony was at loss of words. He knew that his wife was in pain, and looking like she was ready to kill, so he just nodded his head in agreement. He took slow hesitant steps towards the bed, hoping to comfort her without dying. “I’ll never touch you again, my love. How are you feeling?”

“How do you think I’m feeling? I’m pushing your child that inherited your big head out of my lady parts! So tell me, my dear husband, how am I feeling?”

“Like you are giving birth?”

“Anthony...” his mother whispered while shaking her head in dispair. “You should leave the room. Your brothers must be coming to keep you company. We shall call you when the child is born.” 

“I’m not leaving my wife.” was the only thing he said with firmity, holding Y/n’s hand and kissing her soft skin gently.

She turned to him, a change in her demeanor, eyes full of tears of terror. “I’m scared, Anthony. It hurts.”

“I know it hurts. It’s okay, love. You will be alright and then we will have our child with us.” he whispered. A feeling of guilt washed through him. How could he have made his wife suffer through childbirth? “You are the bravest person I know. So so much braver than me and everyone else. I’m so proud of you.”

"I can't do this. It hurts too much. Make it stop, Anthony, please." Y/n cried.

It was only then that Anthony saw the look in his mother. She was worried, exchanging looks with the midwife. And as much as the Viscount would like to also show his anguish, his first priority was to comfort Y/n. "It's going to be okay, my love. Just a little longer, you're being so strong."

But she no longer had the strength to respond. It was getting harder and harder to keep her eyes open and she just wanted to sleep to escape the pain. Between her legs, an increasingly larger pool of blood was forming. Anthony's eyes were wide and there was enormous pressure in his chest. It felt like I was running out of oxygen, and it only got worse when Y/n finally gave in to unconsciousness.

"What's happening?" he whispered, looking in alarm first at Violet. Afterwards, he turned to the midwife furiously. "What's wrong with her? Help her! Do something!"

"Anthony, you need to leave." Violet advised, trying to remain calm for everyone's sake. Anthony was becoming more and more desperate, tears falling from his eyes as he grabbed his wife's hand tighter and brought it to his lips.

"I'm not going anywhere!"

"Viscount Bridgerton, the baby is in pain. You won't want to see what I'm going to do. I promise I'll try to save both of them." the midwife said, taking a small knife and flying it over Y/n's stomach.

"If you need to choose, save my wife's life." Anthony begged, now more desperate as his mother called his brothers to take him out of the room.

"Anthony..."

"No, mother, you save my wife's life!" Benedict and Collin grabbed the man by the arms and began to carry him outside, despite Anthony's struggle. "You hear me! My wife is going to survive! Let me go! Mother, save Y/n!" he shouted before the door closed in his face. 

The last thing he saw was the woman making the cut on Y/n's stomach, who woke up with a jolt. She then let out a scream that would torment Anthony for the rest of his life.

With a cry of anger mixed with sadness, Anthony broke free from his brothers' grip and put his hands to his face. He didn't want to think about the possibility of losing the love of his life. He simply couldn't take it.

"Wow, Anthony, calm down." Collin whispered when Anthony, in a rage, threw a punch against the wall. "The Viscountess is a fighter. If anyone is capable of overcoming this, it's her."

"You don't tell me to calm down, Collin. Not when my wife is in that room fighting for her life over something I did." he cried, jaw shaking and eyes red that only showed the immense pain he was in. He sat on the floor, leaning his head back and looking at the ceiling. "I need her to live."

"And she will live, brother. I will bring a drink, and we will wait together for news." Benedict said, rushing to bring the alcohol when Y/n's screams became louder.

On one hand, each scream was like a stab in the heart of Anthony, who was increasingly pale and looked like he was going to vomit at any moment. On the other, it was the only way to know she was alive.

Moments passed. The Viscount didn't know if it had been seconds, minutes or hours. Things seemed to be getting mixed up in his mind. Nothing made sense, not when the love of his life was in the next room in pain and he was away from her. He had to protect her, it was his obligation as a husband. And he failed.

And then came the moment when Anthony's heart stopped. A baby's cry was heard, and he allowed himself to smile a little. He had a son or daughter. A mini version of his wife. And then he burst into tears when Y/n stopped screaming and everything became too silent.

It was uncontrollable. He cried without being able to stop, making it even difficult to breathe in. Anthony refused to believe that he would have to raise this child without Y/n. Without her affection, her kindness, her love. He didn't want to open his eyes and realize that all this wasn't a nightmare, but reality.

Benedict and Collin didn't know what to do. But one thing was certain, they would be there to help Anthony with whatever he needed and never let that child forget the wonderful mother he had. Then, Violet left the room holding a pile of blankets that held the baby.

"You have a daughter, Anthony."

He just cried more. His body was shaking and he couldn't even look at his mother and the baby. "Y/n... Is she...?" He took Violet's silence as a yes. "Oh god..."

"Enter the room, Anthony. She is waiting for you."

Anthony had never stood up so quickly in his life. He quickly opened the door, stopping momentarily when he saw the amount of blood on the sheets, but the most important thing was Y/n's half-open eyes. She was alive and looking around the room in confusion.

"Anthony? Where is my baby?" her voice was hoarse and extremely weak.

The man fell to his knees at the edge of her bed, and lowered his head to rest on her chest. A feeling of relief spread throughout his body when he felt the rising and falling movement of her chest, indicating that she was breathing and that it wasn't just his imagination.

"I love you so much." he cried, feeling her hands start stroking his hair. "I'm sorry. You were so brave and strong. I'm so proud of you, my love."

"Where is my baby?" Y/n didn't want to seem like she didn't appreciate Anthony's words because that was a lie. He was the most important person in her life. But at that moment, Y/n just wanted to know where her baby was.

"She's right here, dear." Violet reassured with a smile, announcing her presence.

Very carefully, she passed the child into the arms of her son's wife, her smile widening as the little family was finally together again. The new parents had a gentle smile as they looked at their creation, a new love emerging for this fragile human being.

Anthony kissed Y/n's temple. "We have a daughter."

"She is beautiful."

"She takes after her mother." Anthony quickly said, never feeling so much love as he did in that moment. 

He was extremely proud of Y/n admiring her strength and courage. Now, he was going to protect his two girls until the end of his life. Nothing was more important than his family.

[zorosangell]

Heyyy❤️❤️❤️ . Idk if ur busy w anything but could I maybe request a cute little boy challenging zoro for the reader in a dumb competition and zoro takes it seriously (bc thats just him) or whatever else you would like . Ive binged all your work and its safe to say ur probably one of the best writers on the app. Thank youu<33

⛥ﾟ・。 daises and posies

synopsis: a kid with the hots for you begins to challenge zoro, insulting his pride as a swordsman and capabilities as a partner until the mosshead finally snaps... leaving you as the only thing standing between all-out war

cw: fluffy fluff, comfort, zoro would totally have beef with a child, reader's a sweetheart, the kid is a little fart but lowkey kind of adorable

"Zoro, stop!" you exclaimed, eyes wide and frantic as you helplessly tried to hold him back, your feet dragging against the ground at his sheer strength. "He didn't mean it! He's just a kid!"

"Kid, my ass!" Zoro scoffed, brows cinched in a sharp scowl as he began to draw his sword, lunging forward. "He's about to get a grown beating!"

"Says the guy that got his butt kicked by Mihawk!"

"WHY YOU—!"

"ZORO!"

"I was there!" the young boy taunted, standing just out of Kitetsu's reach with a shit-eating smirk. "I was on the Baratie when you got your butt handed to you."

Enamored, his gaze shifted to you, hearts practically forming in his irises as he let out a dreamy sigh.

"It was the day I saw this heavenly angel for the first time..."

Confused—and slightly uncomfortable—you let out an awkward chuckle, still maintaining your hold on your furious boyfriend.

"Kid, weren't you, like, seven?"

"And three quarters."

Your brows flattened.

'Gods...'

"But I knew that you were my dream girl! You looked so pretty! Your hair was blowing in the wind, and your dress was a pretty blue!"

The boy's gaze slowly shifted to Zoro, expression turning sour.

"But this bozo was too busy losing to notice..."

"BOZO?!"

"Zoro!"

"I don't give a crap how old the kid is! He's pickin' a fight with me!"

While perusing the marketplace with your swordsman, you came across a fruit stall, where a rather oddly-mannered boy ran the register.

He instantly recognized you—though you could not do the same—and began flying off the handle with pick-up lines and and flirtations, hoping to woo you into a dinner date.

Flattered, you gave him thanks, but also politely declined.

You explained that your boyfriend didn't particularly enjoy sharing, and the mosshead introduced himself in his usual gruff way.

But the moment the boy realized Zoro was your boyfriend, things instantly went left.

He began a long-winded tirade about how Zoro was weak, and nowhere near strong enough to provide the protection an "angel" like you required.

Safe to say... that did not go over well with the swordsman.

"Since you got such a problem with me, kid, then how about we settle this right here! Steel on steel!"

"Sounds good to me!" the boy agreed, brows furrowed as he drew a wooden sword. "Try not to shatter yours this time!"

Zoro's eye twitched, a rather scary looking smile cracking across his face as he drew Enma.

"Ohhh, I am gonna put you in the ground."

"Zoro!" you hissed, snatching away the glowing, purple weapon and shoving it back in its sheath. "His weapon is a toy! You are not using haki to fight a child!"

"He started it!"

"And I'm finishing it! This whole entire thing is ridiculous!"

Stepping forward, you crouched down to the boy's level, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"As flattered as I am that you're willing to take on a billion-berry man for me, I'm afraid this isn't going to work out," you started, pointing between the both of you. "I'm not into younger guys, and as much as I hate to admit it, I kind of enjoy looking at my boyfriend's face."

A cocky grin rose to Zoro's lips, but you were quick to furrow your brow.

You hadn't forgotten what he tried to do a few second ago, and he would be dealt with next.

"So, it is with a heavy heart that I send you on your way..." you smirked, grabbing the boy's shoulders and turning him to face the spice stall. "...and toward the girl that has been staring at you all day."

A flush bloomed across his face as he met the gaze of a young girl behind the register, her large, brown eyes widening as she realized she had been caught.

"R-really?" the boy stumbled, suddenly incredibly nervous.

"Mhmm," you nodded, encouragingly. "And if you're half as romantic with her as you were with me, you'll sweep her off her feet in no time."

Glancing down at the ground, you snatched up a few wildflowers, carefully placing them in his open palm before pressing it closed.

"Just be yourself. And the rest will come naturally."

A glimmer of excitement sparkled in his eyes at the sight of the daises and posies, his mouth breaking out in an adorable, toothless grin.

"You're right! Thanks a bunch, lady!"

Quickly, he threw his arms around your neck, pulling you into a tight hug before letting go and making a beeline for the spice stall.

"Hey, girl! Did it hurt?! When you fell?!"

"Me?! What are you talking about?! Fell from where?!"

"Heaven!"

At the cheesy line, you let out a warm chuckle, unable to fight the smile rising to your lips.

'That kid's goin' places...'

"Tch. Kid's a menance," Zoro glared, crossing his arms over his chest. "Let's head to the Sunny before he comes back."

"Oh, don't think you're out of the dog house," you scoffed, grabbing his ear as you began the trek back to the ship. "I'm not over the fact that you were about to fight a nine year-old with a haki-imbued sword."

"Ow! Shit! (y/n)! That fuckin' hurts!"

"Serves you right! You're lucky I love you or I'd kick you into next week!"

[flw3rrr]

Could you please do one where the reader is Javis sister and she barley survived the tornado five years early. She’s married to Tyler now and something goes wrong during a chase and the reader ends up getting severely hurt and Tyler and Javi risk everything to save her. She’s unresponsive but ends up being okay

Promise me

Tyler owens x fem!reader

Warnings: slight Swearing, injured reader, Angst, Fluff, No mentions of Y/n, flashbacks to trauma

word count: 2k

A/N: Tysm for this request! I hope this goes to your Liking and please feel free to request more💖

Have a request? feel free to send me it in my inbox!

The only thing you could hear was your bother. Javi was screaming your name in the distance as you laid on the grass, your vision almost a blur as you stared at the gray sky above you. Everything felt slow and calm, as if everything was alright. But nothing was alright, barely surviving an EF5 with harsh winds throwing you around at a failed attempt to capture data of the tornado.

Not even noticing or feeling the intense pain within your lower body, just staring at the sky as if it were comforting you. In a blur, Javi stood above you, looking almost horrified as he looked over your body. immediately taking notice, a wood peace of a fence went through your right leg. "Stay awake, alright?" Shaking you slightly to keep your brain still aware. The rest of his words were muffled, not minding as you felt something pulling you above.

The last thing you heard from Javi was him yelling at you in a panic to try to stay awake more and wait for the paramedics to come rescue you before your vision went black in the most peaceful way you ever felt.

Five years later

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror at the gas station, letting the cold water run over your hands as you cleaned them thoroughly, getting rid of any germs you had on your hands for just being in the bathroom. Your wedding ring getting more shiny as the water ran through it. Bringing a smile to your face just five years ago, you were on the edge of death and now a happily married woman to none other than Tyler Owens. The tornado wrangler.

A knock broke your train of thought as Lily spoke from behind the door. "Are you almost done? Some of us have to use the bathroom too, yknow?!" Quickly drying your hands before opening the door to meet Lily. "Yeah, I'm done now. Sorry, I was just in my own world for a quick second." letting out a little laugh. 

Patting your shoulder as Lily closes the door shut quickly with the sound of the lock turning. Turning away and approaching Dexter, who stood in the aisle looking at the batteries. "Need extras?" You asked, crossing your arms.

Along with Dexter and Dani, you helped them a bit with navigation, but mostly you hung out in the truck with Tyler, Boone, and Javi. Having to take it easy since the injury that took place on your leg left you weak and needed an easier job. 

Having such love for this job made you never want to quit at all. As soon as you were discharged from the hospital, you wanted to go back out, but with ears full from Javi and other friends, you waited. Three years later, you still were getting the strength you had on your leg. It was hard as the years went by as Javi went on to continue to storm chase, then some time in the military. But it was all worth it as you met Tyler, who brought more happiness to your life and as well some new friends. 

"Not really, but I'm getting some of these just in case you'll never know when something happens." Dexter's voice pulls you out of your thoughts once more. "Ah well, you're right on that one; you can never be sure." Giving a warm smile before hearing a voice behind speaking up. "Be sure of what?" Tyler's voice was heard as his hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him lovingly.

Just at the sound of his voice, it already has you a blushing mess, it doesn't matter if both of you are married; you'd never get over it. He always treated you fairly and kindly and with respect, and you gave the same in return.

Looking up at him with a big smile and back to Dexter. "He was just telling me he's getting extra batteries just in case, y'know?" Tyler let out a laugh with a shake of his head. "always thinking ahead, which I greatly appreciate. In fact, today is supposed to be easy. With the stats we are seeing, it should be at least something tiny." Now walking out of the building with Tyler and approaching Javi, Dani, and Boone, who was checking the camera storage.

"How you feelin'?" Javi asked as you approached him by the truck. Javi has always worried for you since the injury and always double checks if you're sure you'd like to continue on. It always made you smile though; Javi was the best brother you could ask for, and you'd never wished to replace him ever.

"I am feeling good, Javi; no need to worry about me. I don't need two people to keep checking up on me every second." Tyler also always asked you if you wanted to join and go through, and it made you always feel like the safest person on earth.

Just earning a small nod from him before Tyler spoke once to the whole group, announcing one minute left before heading out. Crossing your arms, you looked at the sky. The wind was not strong, but it made your stomach turn, feeling a sense of unease and worry. Taking deep breaths to desperately fight the flashbacks, closing your eyes and trying to focus on the sound of your breaths before a hand sat on your shoulder, taking you back to reality.

Looking over your eyes  met Tyler once more; his face looked concerned for you and worried. "Is everything alright, sweetheart?" His voice even carried the sound of concern. Giving him a slight smile as you turn to fully meet him, placing your hands on each side of him and holding onto him. "Of course I'm fine, Tyler. Don't worry about me." Giving a reassuring squeeze before he spoke up.

"But I'm supposed to worry about you; that's my job as your husband. Don't forget that." letting out a slight chuckle and a smile to boost the mood between one another. A chuckle escaped past your lips. Your head landing on his chest, hiding your smirk from his comment. "I could never forget Tyler... I love you too much to ever forget that," a soft smile placed on your lips.

His face lowered down to meet your's to place a soft and quick kiss against your lips. Both of you taking in the moment just the two of you as the wind slowly picked up. "Not to bother your guy's little moment, but uh, it's time to get goin'." Lilly's voice spoke, breaking the moment. 

Getting in the back of the truck with Javi as Tyler sat in the driver seat and Boone in the passenger. You usually preferred the back when you felt uneasy, giving a sense of comfort. Just as Tyler started to drive, talking to the viewers through the camera, you and Javi kept an eye on the wind speeds and closely monitored, giving every piece of information to everyone.

Javi looked away for a couple of minutes to talk to the camera, joining in the fun as you kept a close eye on the monitor. The winds picked up speed, the sky got darker, and then rain began to pour down harshly. Glancing up, you look at the funnel slowly forming, doing the math and analyzing the size. This wouldn't be some EF1…

"Woah, do you guys see that now that is a good one?" Tyler spoke to the viewers once more as Boone turned to show it forming. Your body froze, unable to move. Every thought and memory came back in a flash quickly.

"Javi, I need to get this data; it's the most important one I can ever get." You spoke loudly, trying to be heard over the high winds, clutching the computer in your arms tightly. "But you'll get yourself killed; it's not worth it!" Javi yelled, trying to get you back in the van to safety. 

Just as you turned back, it was too late, as the large EF5 looked as if it wasn't moving. With a great chance, it was approaching your way.

Coming back to your senses once again as Javi looks at you with worry. "Are you alright? What's the matter?" Both of his hands on your shoulder, Tyler looking at you through the little mirror, as Boone just kept the camera away from you for privacy. Quickly showing your brother the wind speed and then pointing to the almost formed tornado and speaking only five words. "We need to leave now." 

But it was too late; it had already formed into a massive EF5. With no little time, Tyler quickly started to drive. Your eyes locked on the tornado in fear. "I can't see shit!" Tyler yelled through the loud rain.

"Just drive go go go!" Boone yelled. Then everything went slow for the second time in your life. The sudden calm feeling you enjoyed and overwhelmed you. You take notice of everyone's expressions. Javi was petrified as his right hand gripped on your arm. Tyler's eyes shut, hands gripping the wheel, his wedding ring shining brightly. And Boone was holding onto the camera dearly. 

Then it went back to normal with a sound of a crash, then darkness once more. Perhaps it was how you were meant to go? Or someone above was cradling you in their arms, offering comfort and safety; whatever it was, it felt as if it were a dream. 

It only felt as if this comfort lasted a second. The sound of a constant beeping rang through your ears. A feeling of a rough blanket beneath your fingers as you slowly moved them. Then a comforting hand laid on your forehead, slowly stroking your hair. A deep breath leaves from you before your eyes slowly flutter open.

It took time for your eyes to focus as the bright lights lit the hospital room, and the first face you met is with Tyler; he had a cut on his face going over his nose. His smile grew as you made eye contact. "Hey there.." He softly spoke, his hand still slowly stroking your hair. "What.." Your voice hurt, throat was dry, and you had a lot of head pain. He shushed you quietly before placing a loving kiss on your forehead before speaking.

"The truck flipped over... and a lot of crazy things happened. but you were the most injured. Some brain damage and bleeding. but nothing too bad." His face frowned as he gave you the story of what had happened that day. 

"How long..?" You slowly leaned up with the help of Tyler and a couple of tears.

"Three weeks." Those words shocked you; it only felt like you were out for a mere second. Taking a good look around the room, you looked and saw flowers and a comfy blanket at the bottom of the bed. "Javi and the others?" You turned your head with a wince. 

Tyler gave a kiss to your hand before he took a seat beside the bed. "They are all alright, I promise you. They even visited you, but you won't remember since you were out," letting out a soft laugh. You gave him one in return, which sounded heavenly to him; not hearing your laugh in three weeks was a nightmare for him. not knowing if you'd ever wake up.

Tyler looked at you with such love; his hand never let go of yours. placing one kiss upon your hand once more before speaking. "Can you promise me something?" His eyes looked at you, silently begging you to hear his question, giving him a slight nod. "Promise me that anytime from now on you will always tell me when something feels wrong or you feel uneasy, please." Reading his face, your injury left him tired, eye bags under his eyes, almost as if he waited those three weeks for you to wake up. Placing your hand on his cheek softly, caressing with your thumb before speaking up. "I promise"

[simmplerussiangirl]

The Fugitive

Ambessa Medarda x The Reader

Synopsis: It's very simple. You're Ambressa's wife and you were afraid you could kill her with your magic. So you ran away from the capital. It's about what happened after that

Word count: 1.2k

Author: Sorry, I'm really crazy about magic and Ambessa.

Three weeks ago during your training with Ambressa, you couldn't do anything. Your magic, your legs, your arms weren't working, it was like someone had replaced you. And so when you were once again working with a new spell, you couldn't hold the magic in your hands, and a large ball of pure energy exploded in your hands. It didn't hurt you, because your magic is an extension of you and it can't hurt you.

 But Ambresse... The woman managed to cover herself with her shield and didn't get badly wounded. But the magic hit her arm. You instantly ran over to her as you recovered from the shock. Her left arm was bleeding, and the cuts were in the shape of the runes you'd drawn so diligently in the air a couple minutes before.

« It's okay, Witchy « the girl wheezed and leaned on her other arm to stand up, drops of blood falling from her hand to the floor. « It's okay, I'm not going to die from these scratches. Don't worry, you didn't hurt me badly and the runes didn't go deep under my skin. You just cut my skin. Don't worry.»

 But I just watched in silence, unable to say anything. The thought flashed through your mind of what would have happened if Ambressa had been standing there without her shield as usual. Would you have killed her? Most likely.

 That night you fled the capital, hoping to shield your beloved wife from yourself and your magic. But, of course, you were found and brought back.

Now you enter Ambressa's office, where she has been negotiating with her people about the war. Your heart sinks as she throws the warriors out of the room she was talking to in a cold and menacing voice. As the men left the room not forgetting to bow to you and Ambessa, the woman stood up from the table and walked around it. Leaning her hips against it in front of you, she folded her arms across her chest. You could feel waves of displeasure from the girl, and she didn't even try to hide it. For a while, you were both silent. You because you were insanely ashamed of what you had done. She because she was waiting for your excuses.

 You looked at the hand you'd wounded and saw the scattering of rune scars and breathed heavily, raising your gaze to her eyes.

« I was scared» you swallowed and hugged yourself to your shoulders, trying to pull yourself together «scared that I might accidentally kill you with my magic. You're very lucky you had your shield on that day. If you hadn't, it probably would have ended very badly.»

 I lowered my eyes to the floor, unable to find the strength to look into her eyes, where you could see the depths of worry and boundless love.

« Villains can't have family and happiness. I knew that, but I hoped it wouldn't affect us, but it did.»

«You're not a villain» Ambressa said in a steady voice, not trying to comfort, but rather stating it as a fact.

« I almost killed you!»

«But you didn't.»

«But I could» I cringed even more at the thought of it «that's why I left, because I don't want to. I can't live with the idea that I've done you irreparable harm. Now you've led with your hand, but what if.... If next time it doesn't work out.»

 Ambressa was silent and only watched you standing by the door like a little battered kitten who doesn't know what to do.

«You can run around as long as you like. But I'm gonna find you wherever you are. I'll find you and I'll bring you back home to me. You're my wife, my responsibility and I won't let you think you're evil. Even if you destroy the entire Earth, I'll find a million excuses for you and make everyone believe it. Let alone the fact that you hurt me a little while you were practicing. It's just a scratch and you couldn't have hurt me worse.”

 Ambressa moved around the room like a predator. Her steps were slow and measured. Her arms were folded across her chest as she sat down on the couch near the fireplace. The fire danced across her face, making her features look more and more menacing. The girl didn't look at me, which made my heart whimper.

 She certainly was not angry now. She was never angry with you. Was displeased or pissed off, but not angry. At the moment her heart was gripped by anxiety. A vice gripping her heart at even the phantom possibility of losing you. She was terrified that one morning she would wake up and realize you were gone again. The thought alone made her clench her eyes, trying to push such a thing away from her.

«But...»

« No buts.»  Ambressa said it in a tone after which there could be no arguments. She cut off any doubts, causing a flame of hope and boundless love to erupt inside you. Seeing you slump your tense shoulders, the girl smiled and spread her arms, inviting you into her strong, warm embrace. «Come to me, my Witch.»

 And you came. Of course you did. Almost running, you threw yourself into her arms, wrapping both arms around her waist and hiding from the world in her neck. You greedily inhaled the pleasant scent of the girl's perfume mixing with her natural odor. It was such a familiar scent that you had missed so much in a couple of weeks that it seemed that if you hadn't heard it for a couple more days, you would have gone crazy.

 Ambressa's hand stroked your back in a soothing gesture. She kissed the top of your head a couple times and turned back to the fire, glad to have you around again. The demons inside her calmed down, no longer lashing out, wanting to kill anyone who looked at her the wrong way. The creatures quieted, and Ambressa sank into the long-awaited calm, clutching you to her.

 You, in turn, clutched her clothes in your hands, afraid to open your eyes and not see your beloved. At such an action on your part, Ambressa laughed a little, admiring your childish behavior.

«Have you had enough of running?» she whispered into the top of your head between kisses.

 You didn't say a word, but nodded affirmatively, drew your legs closer, and turned to the fire.

«You won't run away again?»  Ambressa's hand gently tousled your disheveled hair.

«Never again in your life.» You whispered, and rested your head on her shoulder, moving it slightly, like a cat wanting to be petted. « I thought I was going to die without you... I missed you so much. Waking up every day and not seeing you, not hearing your voice, not feeling your touch - it's my hell...»

« I love you.» You continued after a little silence. «More than anyone else in this world.»

 The clan head moved her hand to your shoulder and pressed you against her. Her heart ached pleasantly at your warm words, she literally melted when you told her how you felt.

«Me too, Witchy, me too.»

Thanks for reading. If there are any comments I accept criticism in a mild form. Don't break my heart :)

[thesecondhandwoman]

I have so many thoughts and your writing is amazing so I’ve got another one for ya. I bet you can tell I’m obsessed with this women. Ambessa x f or nb!reader where the reader is from Zaun and is good at fighting but Ambessa doesn’t know, so when their house is raided Ambessa is really worried but finds out the reader can take care of her/themself. remember to drink some water and take care of yourself. ps. If these get annoying or are to much feel free to ignore me

-🧚‍♂️

HIDDEN STRENGTH

Ambessa x f!reader

Synopsis: You were Ambessa’s assistant, but also her secret lover beneath close quarters, and somehow, people who opposed Ambessa’s rule had found out, raiding the house when she was gone in hopes of using you for leverage.

Request: Anon 🤍

The sprawling Noxian estate was unusually quiet that day. Ambessa Medarda had left for an important meeting with her daughter, Mel, and while the weight of Noxian politics consumed her mind, you remained behind in her shadowed domain—a secret presence in her life that no one could quite place. To most, you were merely her loyal assistant, managing her demanding schedule and household with an unmatched precision.

But the truth ran deeper than anyone suspected. You were her lover, her hidden solace amidst the chaos of her public life. A woman from Zaun, soft-spoken and kind, you seemed an unlikely match for the indomitable Ambessa Medarda. Yet, behind closed doors, your relationship blossomed, a secret love forged in stolen glances, whispered words, and the unyielding loyalty you showed her.

Ambessa never questioned your strength. She saw you as her balance, a calming presence to temper her relentless ambition. What she didn’t know, however, was that beneath your gentle demeanor lay a fierceness born of necessity. The streets of Zaun had molded you into someone who could survive, someone who could fight. You had simply chosen not to share that part of yourself with her.

Until now.

It started with a knock.

The estate guards were usually diligent, but something about the sound sent a chill down your spine. You moved to investigate, leaving behind the stack of reports you’d been organizing for Ambessa. The second you opened the door, you knew something was wrong.

The man standing there didn’t belong. Dressed in rough, practical leather, his expression turned from false politeness to something much darker as he shoved his way inside. Behind him, more figures emerged—armed, purposeful, their gazes scanning the opulent interior with hungry intent.

Raiders.

Your heart sank as they advanced, slamming the door on the man’s face, locking it quickly while hearing their leader barking orders to seize the house and “find the assistant.” The plan was obvious: they intended to use you as leverage against Ambessa. But you had no intention of being anyone’s bargaining chip.

The dagger hidden beneath your blouse was in your hand before you even realized it. A relic of your past life in Zaun, it was something you’d carried with you out of habit, though it had gone unused for years. You took a steadying breath. The skills you’d buried deep were about to surface again, and you hoped they were just as good.

The fight was chaos.

The first man lunged at you, and you sidestepped with practiced ease, driving the hilt of your dagger into his temple. He crumpled to the floor as another attacker rushed you, his sword gleaming in the dim light. You ducked beneath his swing, sliding behind him and delivering a swift kick to the back of his knee. He stumbled, and you followed up with a sharp jab to his throat, leaving him gasping for air.

Another raider fired a gun, a rare weapon to be used in Noxus, the deafening crack echoing through the hall. The bullet grazed your thigh, a hot, searing pain ripping through your leg. You hissed in pain but didn’t falter. The injury slowed you, but you pressed on, using the estate’s layout to your advantage, ducking behind furniture, using the shadows to stay one step ahead.

By the time the dust settled, the house was a wreck. Broken furniture littered the floor, and the walls bore the scars of the battle. The raiders lay unconscious or groaning in defeat, scattered around the grand hall. You stood in the center of it all, blood dripping from the cut on your thigh, your chest heaving with exertion.

You had won. But the cost was clear. Your dress was torn, revealing bruises and scrapes, and your hands trembled as adrenaline coursed through your veins. You barely noticed the pain; your only thought was ensuring the house was secure before Ambessa returned.

When the news reached her, Ambessa was in the middle of discussing strategy with Mel. A guard interrupted, his expression grim, and Ambessa’s heart froze as he relayed the report: her estate had been raided. You had been there, alone.

Ambessa didn’t wait for details. She was on her feet in an instant, her expression darkening as she barked orders for her carriage to be readied. Mel, though concerned, didn’t press. She knew better than to interfere when her mother’s mind was set.

The ride back to the estate was a blur for Ambessa. Her mind raced with possibilities, each one more dreadful than the last. Were you alive? Hurt? Taken? The thought of losing you, of never being able to hold you again, clawed at her heart.

By the time the carriage pulled up to the estate, she was already moving, her long strides carrying her through the broken doors and into the grand hall.

Her breath caught at the sight of you.

You were still standing, albeit barely, your weight braced against the back of a chair. Blood stained the fabric of your dress where the cut on your thigh bled sluggishly, and bruises bloomed across your arms and face. But what struck Ambessa most was your expression, a mix of exhaustion and relief as your eyes met hers.

“Ambessa,” you rasped, your voice weak but steady.

She crossed the room in an instant, her hands reaching for you as though to confirm you were real. “You’re hurt,” she said, her voice trembling. “Gods, look at you. I should have been here. I should have���”

“Ambessa,” you interrupted, your tone soft despite your exhaustion. “I’m fine.”

“Fine?” she repeated, incredulous. Her hands gently cupped your face, her thumb brushing against the bruise on your cheek. “You’re bleeding, little one. You’re not fine.”

You let out a weak chuckle, the sound barely audible. “It’s just a scratch.”

Ambessa’s gaze dropped to the wound on your thigh, her jaw tightening. “A scratch? That’s a deep cut, and it’s still bleeding.” She knelt in front of you, her hands surprisingly gentle as she inspected the injury. “Why didn’t you call for help?”

“There wasn’t time,” you admitted, wincing as her fingers brushed the edge of the wound. “They were after me, Ambessa. They wanted to use me to get to you.”

Her hands stilled, and when she looked up at you, her expression was a storm of emotions—anger, guilt, fear, and something softer. “You shouldn’t have had to fight them alone.”

“I’m not as helpless as I look,” you said with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Zaun taught me how to take care of myself.”

Ambessa exhaled sharply, her hands moving to cradle your face again. “I know you’re strong,” she murmured, her voice softening. “But seeing you like this, knowing what could have happened, I can’t bear it.”

You leaned into her touch, your own hands coming to rest on hers. “I’m okay,” you whispered. “I promise.”

Ambessa’s resolve cracked, and she leaned forward, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a reassurance, a promise that she would never let anything like this happen again. Her hands slid to your waist, holding you close as though afraid you might disappear if she let go.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against yours. “I’ll have the medic tend to your wounds,” she said softly, already signaling to her guards. “And then we’ll talk about why you never told me you could fight like that.”

You chuckled weakly. “Didn’t think it would ever come up.”

Ambessa shook her head, a small, fond smile tugging at her lips despite the situation. “You’re full of surprises.”

“And you love me for it,” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her smile softened. “I do. More than anything.”

Sighing, Ambessa rose to her feet, gently pulling you upright with her. Her strong arms wrapped around your waist, supporting your weight as you winced at the sharp pain in your thigh. Her face was etched with worry, but she kept her touch tender, guiding you slowly toward one of the quieter, undisturbed rooms in the estate.

“We need to get you somewhere comfortable,” she murmured, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “The medic will be here soon. You’re not staying in this mess.”

You nodded weakly, leaning against her as she helped you walk. Despite the pain and exhaustion coursing through your body, you couldn’t help but feel comforted by her presence. Ambessa, ever the warrior, was rarely so openly vulnerable, but here she was—her brows furrowed with worry, her lips pressed into a thin line as though she blamed herself for everything.

When you reached one of the guest rooms, she carefully lowered you onto the plush couch. The room smelled faintly of lavender, the heavy drapes muting the noise of the chaos outside. She knelt in front of you, her eyes scanning your body for any other injuries she might have missed.

“Are you comfortable?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You offered a small smile, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’m fine, Ambessa. Really.”

Her jaw tightened, and she reached for a throw blanket draped over the back of the couch. Gently, she tucked it around you, her hands lingering on your shoulders as though afraid you might slip away. “You don’t have to act so strong all the time, little one,” she said, her voice tinged with a rare vulnerability. “You’ve been through enough for one day.”

“Coming from you?” you teased lightly, though your voice wavered from exhaustion. “That’s rich.”

Ambessa let out a soft chuckle, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “Fair enough,” she admitted, her hand brushing against your cheek. Her thumb traced the edge of the bruise there, her expression darkening again. “I should’ve been here. I should’ve protected you.”

“Ambessa,” you said gently, reaching for her hand. “You couldn’t have known this would happen. And besides,” You gestured vaguely to the wreckage you’d left behind. “I handled it.”

She exhaled sharply, her fingers tightening around yours. “You shouldn’t have had to handle it. You shouldn’t have been put in that position.”

Before you could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. The medic entered the room, a wiry Noxian man with a leather satchel slung over his shoulder. He froze briefly upon seeing Ambessa’s towering form but quickly regained his composure, bowing his head in respect.

“My lady,” he said. “I came as soon as I was informed.”

Ambessa stepped aside, though her gaze remained fixed on you. “Take care of her,” she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “And if anything seems worse than it looks, you’ll tell me immediately.”

The medic nodded, setting his bag down on the floor. He pulled out bandages, salves, and a small vial of antiseptic. “Let me take a look at that leg first,” he said to you, gesturing to the bloodied tear in your dress.

You hesitated, glancing at Ambessa. She gave you a reassuring nod, her hand resting on your shoulder. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “Let him help.”

With her encouragement, you relaxed, allowing the medic to carefully examine the cut on your thigh. He worked quickly but thoroughly, cleaning the wound with antiseptic and applying a numbing salve before beginning to stitch it. You bit down on your lip to stifle a hiss of pain, your fingers gripping the edge of the couch.

Ambessa knelt beside you, her hand wrapping around yours. “Squeeze as hard as you need to,” she said softly, her thumb brushing soothing circles over your knuckles. Her touch, firm and steady, grounded you as the medic worked.

When the stitching was done, the medic wrapped your thigh in clean bandages, then moved on to tend to the smaller scrapes and bruises on your arms and face. Ambessa remained by your side the entire time, her presence a constant comfort.

Finally, the medic packed up his supplies and stood. “The wound should heal well if it’s kept clean and undisturbed,” he said. “I’ll leave additional supplies in case any of the dressings need to be changed.”

“Thank you,” Ambessa said, her voice clipped but polite. She stood, towering over the medic, and gestured toward the door. “Leave us.”

The medic bowed again and exited the room, leaving you and Ambessa alone. She turned back to you, her eyes softening as she took in your tired form. Carefully, she sat on the couch beside you, her arm slipping around your shoulders.

“How do you feel?” she asked, her voice low and full of concern.

“Tired,” you admitted, leaning into her. The warmth of her body was a welcome relief after the ordeal. “But safe.”

Ambessa pressed a kiss to the top of your head, her lips lingering there for a moment. “You scared me,” she confessed quietly. “When they told me what happened, I thought,” Her voice trailed off, and she tightened her hold on you. “I can’t lose you, Y/N.”

“You won’t,” you said softly, turning to rest your forehead against her shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Ambessa’s hand gently stroked your back, her touch steady and reassuring. The weight of the day began to fade, replaced by the quiet comfort of being in her arms.

“I’m going to double the security around the estate,” she said finally, her voice tinged with steel. “And I’ll make sure everyone in Noxus knows what happens when they threaten me and ones closest.”

You smiled faintly, your eyes growing heavy. “Ever the warrior.”

She tilted your chin up, her gaze locking with yours. “For you, always.”

Leaning down, she kissed you again, this time slower, softer, as though trying to pour every ounce of her love and relief into the gesture. When she pulled back, she rested her forehead against yours, her breath warm against your skin.

“Rest now,” she murmured. “You need your rest after everything you’ve been through, little one.”

You nodded against her chest, letting out a soft sigh as you closed your eyes and softened into her touch. The last thing you heard before you were taken by a deep sleep was “I’ll be here when you wake.”

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this (hope it’s not too repetitive), and hope you guys enjoy reading it.

[claramelooo]

HEYYY! It's me again! I'm so happy with all the support words and the great proportion this story is taking that I got excited and I just want write more and more to you guys!! (I'm vacations btw lol)

First of all, I would like to say that I don't know much about the US admission system, so if I got it wrong, please correct me.

Second, if you have any suggestions to improve the story's progress or speed up my writing, feel free to contact me.

Last but not least: enjoy it and comment plsss <3

MINORS MUST NOT INTERACT

Paring: Mommy Dom Wanda x Brat Fem reader

WARNING: +18

Summary : Wanda wraps you in the web she has created.

Read here: Prologue | Part 1 – Predator | Part 3 - On your knees

Velvet Chains

The Prey

It was around 3 a.m., and Wanda sighed, staring at the ceiling of the bedroom. The silence was broken only by the lazy whirring of the fan. Vision lay asleep beside her, turned away, breathing deeply. The space between them on the bed felt like an unbridgeable chasm. She turned her head to look at him for a moment but felt a weight in her chest as she realized there was no warmth there, no real connection.

Sex with Vision had always been… functional, almost mechanical. It was always about him—his needs, his desires. There were moments when she tried to convince herself that this was normal, that love was above all a commitment, but nights like this made it clear: something was terribly wrong.

Wanda shut her eyes tightly, trying to push away the frustration building up inside her. It wasn’t just the sex. It was everything. The suffocating predictability, the lack of intensity, the absence of something she had never been able to name but missed with an almost painful ferocity.

And then there was you.

The memory of your face, the way you looked at her during dinner, came rushing back like a storm. Your eyes held a mix of defiance and uncertainty—something Wanda couldn’t get out of her mind. Since seeing you, there had been a growing need inside her, something primal and overwhelming. It wasn’t just desire—though that was undeniable. It was the way you made her feel, as if she were alive for the first time in years.

Wanda sat up in bed, running her hands through her hair, frustrated with herself. It was wrong. That much was obvious. You were young, inexperienced—a delicate soul who deserved freedom, not the weight of the obsession she felt growing inside her.

But the more she tried to rationalize, the more inevitable it seemed. There was something about you—your innocence mixed with a quiet resilience, as if the world couldn’t break you, no matter how hard it tried. It was hypnotic. She wanted to shape you, to dominate your strength and fragility all at once, to explore every nuance of you until there was nothing left to hide.

A shiver ran down her spine, and she pressed her fingers against her temples, trying to stifle the thoughts.

“This has to stop,” she murmured to herself. “This isn’t who I am.”

But the truth was, she wasn’t sure who she was anymore. With Vision, with the life she had built—it all felt so distant, so colorless. And then you appeared, and the entire world gained a new vibrancy, an intensity she hadn’t realized she craved until she felt it.

She looked at Vision again, still turned away, still oblivious to the storm raging beside him. For a moment, Wanda felt a wave of guilt, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. Because the reality was clear: she would never feel whole with Vision.

The clock read 3:23 a.m. when Wanda slipped out of bed, her bare feet meeting the cold floor. She needed space, needed to think, but she knew that every step she took was leading her deeper into dangerous territory—a path of no return.

Reaching the living room, she grabbed a bottle of whiskey—Vision only drank it to celebrate work promotions—and took a swig straight from the bottle, hoping to drown out the chaotic thoughts of you, of Vision, of herself.

But they didn’t go away.

As the alcohol coursed through her veins, Wanda felt her body float. And then, she felt ready to do something she had never done before. With trembling hands from adrenaline and excitement, Wanda picked up her laptop from the coffee table and searched for what had been on her mind since the moment she first laid eyes on you.

The video was artificial, the expressions of pleasure fake, the moans hollow. But the scene itself sparked Wanda’s imagination.

She pictured you moaning beneath her as she slid a good, thick strap inside your tight little pussy, pinning your arms above your head, leaving you completely at her mercy. She imagined slapping your pretty face until you gave in, sticking your tongue out to accommodate her fingers, letting her lubricate them before slowly sliding them into your tight little ass, driving you wild.

Denying you orgasms until you begged her with teary, pleading eyes. Pushing you until you finally said the one word you so desperately needed to say—and that she so desperately needed to hear.

Wanda also fantasized about riding your face, making you drown in her wet pussy, suffocating on her juices. Marking your neck and chest with bruises she would proudly touch the next day.

These thoughts alone were enough to make Wanda forget the adult film on her screen and focus entirely on you. Her fingers worked diligently over her clit, her body trembling as the signs of orgasm built within her. Moments later, she came, her eyes rolling back, her legs shaking.

Oh, fuck. She had to have you soon.

 [...]

The city library was a sanctuary of sacred silence, where whispered voices mingled with the soft rustle of turning pages. You had returned to the country with a single purpose: to study. Your mother never missed a chance to remind you that your bright future hinged on a prestigious university. But after everything, Yale felt like an unattainable dream.

Not anymore.

You still had a chance to transfer and adapt to a new routine—though adjusting had never been hard for you. You’d spent your 18th birthday alone, blowing out the candle on a strawberry cupcake someone had given you, wishing for the power to change your life.

And now, here it was.

Determined, you worked tirelessly to achieve an excellent GPA, nurtured relationships with your professors, and spent the remaining months meticulously preparing your early decision application.

Then came the waiting—waiting and waiting for that damn call. Time passed. You turned 20—too old for a Christian boarding school, too young to face the world—and found yourself staring out of the same window.

When your father finally called, his expressionless voice carried the weight of your shattered dreams.

And now, here you were, standing before an old building with beautiful architecture that probably held some intriguing history. With a pile of notebooks and a battered binder in hand, you pushed open the heavy doors and stepped into the library's main hall. The comforting scent of aged paper and polished wood enveloped you.

The plan was straightforward: find a corner, avoid distractions, and lose yourself in formulas, essays, and reading lists for the next few hours.

But fate, it seemed, had other ideas.

As soon as you entered, your eyes locked onto something—or rather, someone—that made your stomach churn. Behind the lending counter stood Wanda Maximoff.

She wore thin glasses that only accentuated the intensity of her piercing gaze. Her hair was tied back haphazardly, loose strands framing her face. When you walked in, she looked up, and a dangerous spark flashed in her eyes—something intense, hypnotic, and unnervingly expectant.

It was as though she’d known you were coming.

You felt the shift in the atmosphere before you could process it. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction—dangerous, predatory.

"Oh, my, my… What a surprise," Wanda murmured, her voice low and sweet, yet carrying an underlying weight that twisted your stomach. She left her computer and moved toward you, hands clasped in front of her like she owned the place.

You cursed softly.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure, Dekta?” she asked, her accent curling around your name in a way that made your core tighten despite your best efforts.

“I’m here to study.”

“Ah, yes… Yale, isn’t it?” Her lips curved into something between a smirk and a sneer, making your fists clench at your sides. “Your parents mentioned it,” she mused. “I admire ambition—though ambition without focus is a waste, don’t you think?”

Your eyes narrowed. "I have focus."

She took another step closer, her presence suffocating. “Do you now?”

“I’m not a child, Wanda,” you snapped—perhaps a bit too loudly for a space that demanded quiet.

For a brief moment, her pupils expanded, eclipsing the green in her eyes. If you weren’t so innocent, you might have seen the excitement pooling in her gaze. But you felt it—the way your body betrayed you, heat pooling low in your belly, your nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of your bra.

Her expression shifted, the intensity replaced by a false, sugary smile.

“Oh, of course, because you’re such a big girl now, aren’t you?” Wanda tilted her head, her tone deceptively kind but dripping with condescension. Her eyes seemed to dissect you, reading your every reaction like an open book.

“I’m an adult,” you retorted, forcing your voice to remain steady. “I don’t need anyone treating me like I’m still in a school uniform.”

Wanda’s steps were deliberate as she sidled past you, gesturing lazily to a nearby table. “An adult, you say? Funny, because what I see…” Her gaze swept over you and then to the table, “…is a little girl with big dreams, crumbling at the slightest challenge.”

Your entire body tensed. You loathed the way she spoke to you, as though she had the right to dissect your maturity.

“You don’t know me,” you shot back, defensive.

“Don’t I?” She raised an eyebrow, her smile slow and menacing. “Then why are you trembling, Dekta?”

You opened your mouth to deny it, but the words caught in your throat. She was right. Your hands, clutching the binder, were trembling slightly, your heart pounding too fast.

Wanda noticed. Of course, she noticed.

“See?” she whispered, stepping closer, her voice soothing yet laced with control as she reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Adult or not, you still have a lot to learn.” Her words dropped to a murmur, almost too soft to hear: “And I’ll teach you everything.”

Before you could react, Wanda straightened, creating distance as she adjusted her glasses—a deliberate motion that left you inexplicably yearning for her touch again.

“Now, find your table and study. Show me this sharp ambition of yours.”

“You don’t control me,” you snapped, anger flaring briefly.

She chuckled, the sound devoid of warmth. “Oh, Dekta… I don’t have to. You’re already doing exactly what I want.”

With that, she turned and walked back to the counter, leaving you trembling and unsettled, as though you’d just lost a game you didn’t know you were playing.

After 40 minutes of calming down and trying to stop thinking about the woman, you finally manage to focus and regain control of your thoughts. Math had always been something very abstract to you, perhaps even more so than philosophy. There was something about numbers that seemed to elude the logic of your brain, as if every equation were a puzzle with its solution written in a language you couldn't quite comprehend.

You sigh, your eyes fixed on the book's page, where a series of elegantly aligned formulas stared back at you with an almost cruel indifference. It had always been this way. Essays were your forte—your words flowed like a river, structured and persuasive, but numbers? They slipped through your fingers like sand.

With the pencil in your hand, you begin to scribble what seemed to be the first step toward a solution, but your mind soon wavers. Math, with all its precision, left little room for intuition. Every mistake was exposed, every misstep impossible to hide. You had always hated that.

Suddenly, Wanda's presence invades your thoughts again, like a shadow you can't escape. The way she looked at you, as if she knew exactly where your weaknesses lay. Worse, as if she was willing to exploit them.

You shake your head, trying to banish her image, but it’s useless. It’s as if she were still there, standing behind you, watching, waiting for you to fail.

And maybe that was exactly what you needed.

"Okay," you whisper to yourself, turning the page of the notebook with more determination. "This isn't about her. This is about me."

Your strength had always been your ability to adapt and overcome challenges. No matter how impossible something seemed, you had an inner resilience that kept you trying. That was what made you special, even when everything seemed against you.

But that strength came at a price. You were stubborn, almost obsessive, and the idea of failing—for yourself, for your parents, for Wanda—was intolerable. That need to prove your worth, to be good enough, was both a gift and a curse.

Feeling a touch on your shoulder, you jump as if you’d been shocked. Looking at the hand that touched you, it belonged to an elderly woman with a friendly expression on her face.

"Looks like your study session was productive, right?" the lady asked in a voice trembling with age. You simply nodded, still confused by the sudden approach. "But I must inform you, dear. We’re closing now."

"Oh. Yes, of course… I’m sorry," you said as you stood, hastily packing your belongings. "I didn’t even notice the time." You offered an embarrassed explanation.

The lady just laughed, sweetly.

"It's all right! Wanda asked us not to disturb you," she said as if it were nothing, but for you… you felt your pulse quicken with your heartbeat, felt your heart warm at Wanda's indirect gesture.

You looked around, hoping Wanda would appear again to provoke you—to make you surrender to her dominant aura.

But with a click, the library lights turned off, leaving you alone with your confused thoughts.

Letting out a tired sigh, you enter your house. Today had been exhausting, but your mind was at peace from finally breaking out of your loop of procrastination and self-sabotage. It was draining, but it was gratifying—enough to make you proud of yourself.

Arriving in the living room, you see your mother smiling, which makes you raise an eyebrow at her unusual gesture. Noticing you, she stood up, laughing.

"Sweetheart! Come here!" she called, making grand gestures that filled the room.

As you reached the center of the living room, you saw her.

There she was. Wanda Maximoff, sitting in your living room as if she owned the place. Her posture was impeccable—relaxed, but not sloppy. Long legs crossed, her expression composed. She held a teacup in her left hand, her long fingers resting on the porcelain as if it were a luxury item.

Your heart raced. You froze in the doorway, looking from your mother to Wanda and back to your mother.

“Oh, sweetheart, finally!” your mother exclaimed, her voice full of enthusiasm. "I can hardly believe our luck. Wanda offered to help you with your studies! You know how much I worry about your preparation for Yale, and now she's willing to guide you!"

You opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out. Everything felt like a blur. Wanda? The woman who had just turned your afternoon into an emotional whirlwind? Now she was here, in your house, looking more dangerous than ever?

"I simply did what anyone would," Wanda replied, her voice soft but firm. The tone carried a duality: apparent humility, but a pride you could feel beneath the surface. She rose slowly, placing the teacup on the coffee table. Her gaze met yours, and you felt that same shiver from the library.

"Good evening, Dekta," she said with an intonation that made your skin tingle. “I hope you don’t mind my visit. Your mother and I were discussing how I might be helpful for your academic ambitions.”

“Of course,” you responded automatically, trying to keep your composure. “Thank you so much for your help, Wanda.”

Wanda smiled, a small, calculated smile. There was no genuine warmth in it, only something... satisfying. As if she were celebrating an invisible victory.

"In fact," she continued, taking a step closer to you, "I thought we could make this mutually beneficial. Your studies require dedication, and I noticed you have potential. In exchange for my guidance, perhaps you could help me a few hours a week at the library. There are tasks that require... youthful energy."

Your mother seemed more than thrilled with the idea. “Oh, that would be wonderful, wouldn’t it? You’d spend more time learning, in such an inspiring environment!”

You knew you had no choice. Your mother was already beaming, and any refusal would be a family disaster. But above that, there was Wanda, with that look that seemed to pierce your soul, as if she knew that deep down, you didn’t want to refuse either.

"Sure," you finally replied, trying to sound neutral. “That sounds great.”

Wanda took a small step back, satisfied. "Excellent. We’ll start tomorrow."

Your mother clapped her hands, excited. "I’m so proud of you, sweetheart! And so grateful, Wanda, for being willing to help my baby.”

Hearing your mother’s last words, Wanda’s body tensed, clearly disliking the way she referred to you.

Wanda looked at you again, placing a light smile on her face, but her eyes... they had an almost predatory gleam.

“It will be my pleasure,” she said, but you knew there was much more to that phrase than your mother could understand. "Well, it’s late, and I still need to put Tommy and Billy to bed. S/n, would you walk me to the door?"

Finally, you snapped out of your trance upon hearing your name. "O-of course."

As the older woman passed through the door, she turned to look at you again, her eyes gleaming. “You looked beautiful today, darling.”

The compliment made you blush, and the air felt thin, making it hard to breathe.

“Hmm, what do we say when we’re complimented, Dekta?” Wanda broke your trance once again, touching your chin in a firm grip, forcing you to look at her.

"Thank you, Wanda," you replied softly, in an almost submissive tone. Almost. The exhaustion of the day weighed on your shoulders, and Wanda’s sweet voice left you weak, hypnotizing you and slowly turning you into a needy kitten.

"Good girl." She caressed your face with her fingertips, almost as if you were a raw diamond—precious and ready to be shaped. By her. By her hands.

You hadn’t noticed—perhaps due to exhaustion—but Wanda's hands were trembling. The woman trembled as she touched you, as she felt the warmth emanating from your fragrant, untouched skin. Wanda felt blessed, as if finally that scared kitten was learning to trust her.

"We’ll see each other tomorrow, yes? Good night, beautiful girl." She didn’t want to say goodbye to you. She wanted to stay, make you kneel, rest your head on her lap, and stroke the top of your head to hear you purr.

The mark she left on you lingered until you fell asleep, embedding itself under your skin, making you dream of her, of her floral scent—it was something citrusy. Orange? Lemongrass, perhaps? The fragrance clung to your body, your mind, and suddenly, Yale seemed like a distant dream, and Wanda was the only thing you could dream about.

~*~

Poor S/n... A milf caught her.

Tag list <3

@rosekjsses @vyvvycg @3liyuh

If I forget someone, pls remind me in the comments!

[missadangel]

The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x OC)

All Chapters List

V. The Council

Hi, guys I did some research on Rome, and they don't use the word princess. instead, they use rarely: filia regis so I mentioned in the story. But I will use the princess word to make it easier. I will make Geta softer than he looks in the trailers, but not much obviously. In history Caracalla kills Geta so I am writing my fic according to real history places, and tradition, events. if you have any advice let me know, thank you for all your support, so enjoy the episode...

Si scio quid sit amor, propter te est.

If I know what love is, it is because of you. H.B.

Road…

The streets of Rome were fairly tranquil at night, in comparison to the bustling activity that characterizes the city during the day. It was particularly the case with the roads leading out of the city and into more remote areas. The general's villa was situated on one of these remote roads, and it was a somewhat lengthy journey to reach the city on foot. It might have been a good idea to use a horse or cart to traverse this road. But you were determined to continue on your journey, despite the discomfort you felt. You voiced your concerns to yourself and even considered turning back. You would have been pleased to rest in Marcus' bed, next to his warm body, his strong arms.  Yet, you were worried that you might regret not going ahead with your plan if you didn't do it. Even though you had these concerns, you decided to keep walking. As you got closer to the entrance to the big city, you suddenly noticed what sounded to be footsteps behind you.

You were reluctant to turn your head to see what was happening because a shiver ran through your whole body. It was as if the darkness of the night, which had been your friend a moment ago, had now become your enemy. Sounds, shadows and endless dirt roads were now his companions. When you started running, your legs were not as strong as you had hoped, and you experienced more discomfort than you had anticipated. Nevertheless, you ran with all your strength to reach the stone roads.

Subsequently, upon noticing your breathing becoming more rapid, you decided to take a moment to catch your breath. You were somewhat surprised but grateful when you realised that you were no longer being followed. Upon reaching the stone streets, you were somewhat reassured, but on the other hand, you felt a pang of sadness because you were further away from Marcus. The morning was fast approaching, with dawn on the horizon. From your observation point at the foot of the Venus statue in one corner of the street, you were clinging to the marble at the very end of the column and looking at the city panorama ahead, attempting to calculate the direction of Palatine Hill. The Colosseum is in a great spot, right in the center and visible from all sides. It's a bit of a landmark. So, it made sense to adjust the route to go forward and to the right. You still had a way to go, so you kept walking. You never expected it to be so difficult.

It's particularly when you're passing through these streets, places you've passed before, that your memories start to haunt you. It's as if these streets, which you used to pass by horse and cart, have now turned against you, becoming your enemy's friend. After a few quiet, dark streets, you stopped to rest under the triumphal arch. As you drove under the arch, you noticed something you hadn't seen before and were surprised.

The colossal statue of a former emperor that you had seen it before, but you hadn't had a chance to look at the inscription.

‘Imperator Caesar Lucius Septimius Severus Pertinax Augustus’

Your knees gave way, and you found yourself unable to stand. The stone pavements felt cold against your skin, but you remained still. As you gazed at the statue of your father, you found yourself thinking that perhaps things might have turned out differently if he had been there with you. You had never had the opportunity to witness first-hand what kind of an emperor he was, but from what you had heard, he had been quite successful. You spoke to him, your gaze fixed on his stone eyes, and wished he had heard you: “Father, my lord, I have made my decision. I have been thinking since I learnt about the letter. I came here even though you warned me, even though I knew it would be hard. My heart hurts, father, but I am not afraid. I met love, and I am not going to lose it. I love him so much. I know you hear me, and I know you understand. I am not angry with you. In fact, I am grateful. I met my brothers. You were right about Caracalla. Provide guidance on Geta. I saved him, Father, and I'm ready to face whatever comes next. I know you're with the Gods now, so I'm asking you to help me. I'll do whatever it takes for Rome. Open my eyes and ears, give me strength.”

You wiped away your tears and remained in a seated position for a period of time. However, when the cold became unbearable, you began to shiver. Before standing, you heard the distant cry of a horse, followed by the sound of hooves striking the ground. You wrapped your cloak around yourself tightly, burying your hair and face within it. The sound of hooves echoing in the silence of the night only served to heighten your nervousness.

As the horse drew nearer, you became aware of a slight tremor in the ground beneath your feet, caused by the horse's hooves striking it. You turned your head and observed a man who clothed in a dark cloak.

'My lady,' he greeted you.

When you looked at him, you felt a little surprised and perhaps a little uneasy, and said nothing. He opened his cloak and jumped down from his horse and approached you, still holding on to his horse's harness. The horse snorted noisily and you involuntarily took a few steps back.

"It is imperative that you come with me, as the situation is too perilous for you to remain here at this hour.”

"Who are you that I should agree to accompany you? Was it you who followed me previously?”

He bowed his head and replied, "Yes, my lady. I am a slave of Master Macrinus and I must take you to him."

You narrowed your eyes. ”What if I decline your offer?”

The man laughed, 'He thought you would say that. He said if she doesn't want to come, bring her by force, before she does something to hurt herself. Don’t let her to do, so.’

It was your time to laugh, 'How thoughtful of him. Tell him I appreciate the advice, but I have somewhere else to be right now.’

As soon as you turned around, you heard him coming towards you.

“My lady, I have to do as I'm told,” he said, coming up quickly behind you and grabbing your wrist. You tried to pull back with all your strength, but he was too strong. When he got close, you had a chance to get a good look at him. He had a very muscular and large body, which reminded you of warriors fighting in the Colosseum.

“Let go of my arm!” you cried.

But he had no intention of letting go, his strong hand locked around your wrist as if you were chained.

As he drew you closer to his horse, you heard another horse neighed from down the street, followed by a voice you recognised from before. It was a voice you would not forget, even if you were dead, a voice you felt your ears were made to hear.

The general spurred his black horse into a halt in front of you two. The horse reared under him and uttered a cry. He leapt down from the horse with one swift movement, his face as angry as ever, his eyes fixed on the other man. The general seized the man's hand that was gripping your wrist, pulled it and pushed with such force that the man staggered backwards. But he seemed to be angry too, and quickly regained his composure.

“How dare you lay a hand on her? State yourself, who are you?”

The General moved in front of you, taking charge and protecting you. You were relieved to see him. From behind, he appears to be dressed only in his tunic and cloak. It seems he may have left in a hurry, perhaps he was so worried, you wondered if he had opened the letter yet or not.

"General Acacius, Master Macrinus has given me a mission. I will complete it.”

"Macrinus? I just remember where I saw you before. Tell him I am Marcus Acacius, and I will prevent you from completing your mission.”

The man frowned and tensed as one hand went to the sheath of the sword at his waist. He was not afraid of the General at all.

"Marcus," you gently grasped his cloak and gave it a slight tug. He did not turn to you, still glaring at the man.

"Macrinus would like to take me to the council meeting, I believe he wants to ensure my safety until then. I apologise for not telling you before, I hope you can forgive me.”

Acacius turned his head and looked at you. His eyes conveyed a multitude of emotions, including anger, frustration, and longing.

"Nevertheless, I am unable to allow you to accompany him. I will take you to the meeting if that is your desire."

"No, the emperors may think you've been hiding me all this time. I won't let this happen to you because of me."

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, as if trying to suppress his anger.

“Don't you realize how much I care about you? They've already seen you with me, so I'm prepared to face whatever consequences may result.”

You frowned. "I would never want to cause any damage to your reputation."

"Is that why you decided to leave me? What exactly you were planning, I wonder?”

You bit your bottom lip. “To go to Geta and tell him everything.”

Acacius' eyes flashed with anger. “I'm hoping you're joking right now.”

“He said he owed me, I thought he'd understand.”

“Do you really think he's as pure and kind-hearted as you? How can you be so reckless?”

"Perhaps he'll reconsider when I tell him I'm his sister.”

Acacius shook his head, “Wrong. He won't. He'll kill you on the spot, I'm sure of it.”

You were fairly certain that what he said was true, but you still had the inclination to believe it wasn't. Then, two more riders came down the street towards you and dismounted next to the other man. The General immediately sensed a potential threat and pulled you behind him for protection.

Macrinus knew exactly what he was doing and he was determined to see it through.

It is probable that his slave felt emboldened by the arrival of the other men, as evidenced by his demeanor, which shifted from apprehension to confidence.

"General, I advise you not to cause us any trouble. We're taking the lady with us.”

Acacius drew his sword and looked at them with a glint in his eye, ready for whoever or whatever was about to come at him.

"I dare you to try.”

They seemed to hesitate at first, looking at each other, then drew their swords, the tension rising. You swallowed hard.

"Three against one. I heard you were a good soldier, but you don't stand a chance against three of us." He smiled, but it seemed a little cruelly.

"You must have misheard then. I've killed more when I was in a worse situation." His voice was threatening, making the other person uneasy.

"Indeed, I had the opportunity to observe it at the Colosseum. However, we also fought there, so it would be unwise to underestimate us."

They fought there? At the Colosseum? Gladiators?

You had observed the combatants in action during your time there; you had witnessed it first-hand, with your own eyes, and it sent a chill down your spine.

You moved in front of the general, who was still pointing his sword at the others.

“Marcus, you need to let me go with them.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Please, hear me out, the council meeting is just around the corner, he can't do anything to me, he needs me.”

You grasped his other hand tightly with both hands and looked into his eyes.

“Please, I ask you to trust me.”

“He's the one I don't trust.”

“I know. I don't trust him either but I need to find out what his intention is before the meeting.”

Marcus looked at you for a moment, considering your words. Then he sheathed his sword. "Very well. You're right.”

The others seemed relieved, but they tried not to show it.

"A wise choice, General," the man said, his voice firm and his gaze steady. He gestured for the others to put their swords back, then approached you with purpose.

"Come with me, my lady," he held out his hand to you and the general caught it in mid-air.

"Who gave you permission to touch her?"

He pushed his hand away and grabbed your wrist. "I will be accompanying her.”

The man laughed and looked at you with disdain. "As you wish. That's fine by me."

As he walked away towards his horse, the general turned to you.

"I'm assuming you've ridden a horse before?"

You didn't ride much in Egypt, given that you lived inconspicuously.

"Well, sort of.”

The look on your face made him smile. He pulled you close to his horse. His black horse lifted one leg and just the tip of the hoof touched the ground, snorted heavily. Acacius stroked the horse's back gently. "You should know how lucky you are to be carrying this beautiful woman, Dromos. Be gentle with her.” The horse lets out a soft whinny as a reply, and Acacius smiles.

“Dromos?”

“Yes, I named him that because he runs so fast.”

“I see.You seem to be quite good friends,” you said with a smile. Hesitantly you reached out and stroked the horse’s neck, ran your fingers through the black of his mane.

“Indeed we are,” he agreed. He placed his hand on the stirrup and held it for you. “Place your foot here and I'll lift you up."

You did as he said, then he put his hand to your waist, lifted you easily and sat you on the thin saddle. When the horse moved, you grabbed onto the horn of the saddle to steady yourself. Then you felt a soreness between your legs but forced yourself to ignore. Acacius quickly climbed on top of the horse and positioned himself right behind you, gripping the reins. You felt safe as you felt his muscular body caressing yours from behind.

“Lead the way,” the General said loudly to the other man, you felt his warm breath just above your ear. The man nodded kicks his horse forward. Acacius gave a gentle pat to Dromos, he neighs, and starts to move faster. Acacius moves a little, closing the gap between you, his arms around you from either side as he holds the reins. Your body shook with the movement of Dromos as he galloped at a moderate speed through the streets of Rome. Your back kept bumping against the General's strong chest, and you even felt his chin in your hair. You gasped. Was he doing it on purpose?

You glanced over at his face and noticed a smile at the corner of his lips, even though his eyes were fixed on the road ahead.

“I’m guessing you’re upset with me?" you asked as the General pulled the rein to the right to steer it, top of your shoulder bumping his chest.

"For leaving me in bed and abandoning me?"

"And for not mentioning the letter before."

"That too.”

When you turned to look at him, a few strands of your hair got caught in his beard. The hairs kept flying with the wind, brushing against his face. He seemed pleased with them.‘

"I must admit that I was eager to find out who you are, but this is beyond what I could have imagined. I can understand why you did it, but I'm still hurt. I wish you hadn't left me in bed. You broke my heart.”

You swallowed, “Forgive me, I didn't know what to do. Leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever done. Will you let me heal your heart? I'm Medicus, you know?" You blinked your eyes under your long eyelashes, he smiled.

He buried his lips in your flowing hair and whispered in your ear.

"My heart is yours to heal. You don't need to be a medicus for that.”

You smiled as you felt his lips on your cheek, your lips yearning so much to touch his. At that moment, as you rode with him on his horse, you wished that he would take you far away, to a place where no one could find you two, you were willing to give everything for it.

Macrinus’s Villa…

The men on horseback dismounted and led their horses into the courtyard. Acacius gently pulled his horse's reins and rode in a circle, glancing towards the villa. It seemed as though he was hesitating. Soon, Macrinus appeared in the doorway and grasped the bridle to the right, turning it around to face him.

"My lady," he bowed his head and greeted you. "General Acacius?”

Acacius ignored him and dismounted, one hand still clutching his horse's harness.

“Sir Macrinus, have you stationed your slaves outside my villa to keep watch? Or should I say your gladiators?”

Macrinus smirked. “I needed to make sure Lady Aurelia was safe.” He turned his eyes to you.

“I think you can rest assured that it's not something you need to worry about, especially when she's with me.”

“Which is why you must have accompanied her here, I see.”

“Apparently.” Acacius muttered.

“Then let me invite you in,” he gestured with his hand.

Acacius turned to you and held out his hand. “My lady.”

You smiled, initially surprised that he was addressing you with respect for the first time, but then realising how much you liked it. You took his hand and dismounted the horse and allowed yourself to be embraced by his protective arms. He took you gently and lowered you down.

As your feet touched down on the ground, you felt the throbbing return and let out a quiet moan.“Are you alright?” Acacius's voice was worried.

You regarded him with a somewhat hesitant expression. "I'm a little sore from..." You pursed your lips.

Acacius stroked your disheveled hair with his big hand. "I wish I could relieve your soreness.”

You blushed at the memory of witnessing how well his passionate lips worked on your body before.

“I'll take that as a promise for later, General.” You smirked mischievously.

“At your service, my lady,” he grasped your hand gently and kissed it.

As your heart melted in the warmth of his smile, Macrinus watched you from afar, his eyes narrowed in scrutiny. He felt something very different. He controlled his expression though and cleared his throat. You and the General looked at him, his warrior slave standing beside him. Acacius held out his hand, offering it to you.

“Shall we?”

Sitting in his garden, you realized that Macrinus' villa was bigger than the General's. The fountain in the center of this big courtyard was rectangular, and in the center was a statue of the queen goddess Salacia, the wife of Neptune, the goddess of the sea and water. She's holding a bucket just above her head and the water is gushing out of it.

The columns ahead were white and straight, half covered with red marble, with ionic protrusions at the corners. They proudly stood among various trees and plants, but this beauty was nothing compared to the Domus Severiana. That palace was magnificent and wonderful.

Although you couldn't see it clearly because it was still dark, you were wondering what kind of flowers were behind the fountain when Macrinus' gladiator slave stood there, blocking your view. You met his gaze and turned to the general, who was standing next to you. He seemed uneasy and reluctant to sit down. His body language showing his tension. You reached out and grasped his hand.

"Would you perhaps like to sit with me?"

"My lady, I believe I will be more comfortable like this," he replied, his eyes on the gladiator who crossed his arms and looking at Macrinus as he approached.

“Apologies, I am expecting an important guest, I wanted to make sure he arrived safely,” he sat down opposite you and crossed his legs. A delighted smile spread across his face.

“I assume you brought the letter with you, my lady?” he said, looking at you.

You glanced at the General, to whom you entrusted the letter. He crossed his arms and looked directly at Macrinus.

“Prior to that, elucidate your intentions regarding the council.”

"I'm going to make sure our lady gets her 'filia regis' (princess) title back and gets what's rightfully hers. You know, general, you were what, twenty? You must have been about that age when Aurelia was born. Septimius gave me the task of taking her away to protect her. He made me promise.”

"I was nineteen," the General stated, his eyes distant as he recalled those days. "And you were the one who made up the lie that she drowned in the river when she was little? You actually took her to Egypt? With that man, Vicius."

He turned his head to look at you, to see your expression. You felt sad when you remembered him, but you gave the general a half-smile anyway.

“There were three hundred days of mourning throughout the empire,” Macrinus gave you a half smile. “Then it was forgotten when it was time for Caracalla's fifth birthday, but the people of Rome must still remember their princess. The year you were born was a very prosperous one, the fields were full of new crops, there were hardly any beggars in the streets.”

A soft smile spread across Acacius' face, you wondered why, but you didn't feel comfortable to ask when Macrinus around.

“Wine,” Macrinus ordered one of the other slaves. “My lady, please eat something,” he said, indicating the food on the table. “You need to gather your strength.” Then he looked at Acacius who shook his head. “I should head out to dress properly for the Council,” he said and turned to you and got down on his knees. "My Lady, I will be ready to provide any assistance you may require at the council today."

“No, General, I cannot allow you to do that.”

He looked confused.

"Perhaps it would be better if I said that I've kept my name a secret from you.”

“They've already seen us together,” he protested. “I don't think they'll care about that.”

"Lady Aurelia is right, General. It would not be good for you to make your side clear, at least from Geta's point of view. Half the council already knows everything and we have the upper hand."

"Marcus, please," you grabbed his big hand with both of yours. "I don't want you to stay in the middle of this.”

He took both your hands in his, his beard brushing against your skin. "As you wish. but know that if things don't go our way, I will do my utmost to ensure your safety." He kissed you gently on the top of your hands and stood up. "I will see you at the Council then." He nodded and left the courtyard. With his leaving, you felt abandoned, out of place.

Macrinus' gladiator-slave accompanied the general out into the courtyard and returned a moment later. As his eyes met yours, you turned your head.

“I wonder why you keep gladiators as slaves in your villa?”

Macrinus smiled, shaking the wine glass in his hand, “Choosing gladiators is an art, they often become prisoners of war, just like other slaves.”

“So you buy them, train them and put them in fights,” you looked at the gladiator without turning your head. "What is the return on investment of this strategy? Is this the best way to gain the trust of the emperors, by providing entertainment?”

Macrinus laughed. “My lady, you have the right angle, but I don't think you see the whole picture. Perhaps you could save your thinking skills for the council, as it is almost time. My slaves will be ready to dress you properly," he said, rising to his feet. "If I may ask, as you still haven't given me the letter."

One of the girl slaves came as you stood up. “The general has the letter, I'm sure he will bring it before the council.”

“I must say, I am rather surprised at the extent of your trust in him.” Macrinus narrowed his eyes.

“I trust him more than anyone,” you said confidently. You couldn't bear to hear him speak unfairly of the General. You took a step back, looking around to avoid making eye contact with him. “Now, where do I get dressed?”

Roman Forum…

The Roman Forum was the centre of day-to-day life in Rome: the site of triumphal processions and elections; the venue for public speeches, criminal trials and gladiatorial matches; and the nucleus of commercial affairs. Here statues and monuments commemorated the city's leaders. This was where the Senate—as well as Republican government itself—began. The Senate House, government offices, tribunals, temples, memorials and statues gradually cluttering the area.

By the time the carriage carrying you and Macrinus arrived, the morning sun was already brightening the streets. The streets were now filled with Romans, spread around, going about their daily routines. This particular street was noticeably more crowded than usual. A considerable number of people had gathered in anticipation of the emperors' attendance at today's significant meeting. Among them were individuals with pending court cases, spectators eager to witness the new gladiators' initial contests, distinguished patricians and their wives, and those in need, who had come with the hope of receiving alms from them. Additionally, there were individuals who were to be dedicated as priestesses to the temple of Vesta and their companions, as well as those with business at the state house and, of course, the esteemed members of the senate and their wives.

Women were allowed to walk around the Roman Forum, but not in the Curia Julia, the senate building. Of course, the empress managed to sneak herself in - to see what was being said behind her sons' backs and what plans were being made - so it was inevitable that no one would pretend to know about it.

Today, Julia Domna managed to get herself into the Curia in the same way, but you couldn't see it because the entrance was too far away. Macrinus got out of the carriage and looked in towards you.

‘My lady, you will have to sit here for a while, you know women are-.’

‘Yes, sir, I know.’

He turned his head and squinted at something in the distance.

‘Acacius,’ he murmured.

Upon hearing his name, your heart began to race with excitement. He was the only person you desired to see at that moment. Macrinus took a step back, and the general's footsteps could be heard just outside the carriage.

"Did you bring the letter, General Acacius?" Macrinus asked.

You stuck your head out, eager to see his face. Cato was beside him, he took your letter out of his leather bag and handed it to Acacius, he handed it to you. You reached for it, and he turned his head to meet your eyes, making you realise how much you had missed him, even in such a short time.

“My Lady, I would like to return this to you.” The General was dressed differently today, in a toga worn on formal occasions. White in colour, it covered almost his entire body, with burgundy stripes around the edges. The shawl was of the same colour and pattern, the sleeves were short so you could see the thick gold bracelets on his arms, it looked perfect and neat.

“I am grateful to you for ensuring its safety,” you said quietly.

Macrinus cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should go inside now to start the session."

“Sir Macrinus, you go first.” Acacius said in a detached manner, his eyes locked on you.

“My lady,” he bowed his head, turned around and made his way towards the wide stairs of the Curia.

"Are you feeling a bit nervous?” His voice softened for you.

“A little,” you lied.

He smiled and put his hand on your cheek. “No need to be, you have nothing to worry about. It's your birthright, like every Roman. I think that's the only thing Macrinus and I agree on.”

You touched his hand on your cheek and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I know, thank you.”

He tilted his head towards you, almost close enough to touch you with his lips. “I will always be there to protect you, my beautiful lady, no matter what the outcome.” He held your eyes captive for a moment with his eyes, then pulled himself back. He looked ahead, frowning.

“They're here,” he said, squinting.

“Our Emperors!” Someone in the crowd shouted at the top of his lungs.

Your swallowed, feeling your heart began to race. Acacius stroked your hair gently, "There's no need to be so distressed. They can't do anything to you. There are very few people in the Senate who likes them. As much as I don't like him, I have to hand it to him, Macrinus knows what he's doing, almost succeeded in convincing the entire council,’ he said. 'I must go in now, Octavius will accompany you in,' he said, kissing your hand for the last time before leaving. You inhaled deeply while holding the letter in your hand tightly, praying to all the Gods.

Curia Julia…

All councillors were present and awaiting the commencement of the session, with the oldest councillor taking the lead in opening the meeting. The murmurs of the members of the Senate reverberated gently off the walls of the Curia's spacious, high-ceilinged meeting hall. When their names were announced a little later, all the congressmen stood up and showed their greeting as the Emperors entered the hall from the great hall, albeit somewhat reluctantly. They took their seats in the western corner of the round hall, their attire differing from that of the members of the senate in that it was rather more ostentatious and therefore perhaps less appropriate.

The longest-serving member of the council approached the emperors and stood on the ledge in the centre of the hall to offer them his greetings. He surveyed the room with a gesture that seemed to convey a desire to embrace everyone. “What an auspicious day. Many gave their lives so that we could stand here once more, for the sake of an empire, a government with laws.”

All the members applauded him, except the emperors, who seemed bored already. Acacius was in the lowest tribune and sat quite close to them. Many were surprised to see him at the meeting today; he rarely attended, and no one even knew he voted in the elections.

“In honouring them, I would like to mention that we must pay our respects in your presence to General Marcus Justus Acacius, commander of the southern armies, General of the Legio III Augusta and protector of Rome.” he said, raising his hand and pointing to him. “He demonstrated remarkable courage in defending the Rome and is worthy of our respect and gratitude.”

The members started clapping more enthusiastically. They were all chanting the General's name together. Acacius stood up to show his appreciation and then sat back down.

“Senate is now in session. I invite Sir Macrinus here to make his speech.”

As oldest member approached the tribune to take his seat, Macrinus rose from his seat, came to the centre and greeted the emperors and members.

“Your Majesties, esteemed council members. The reason we are gathered here today is not a matter of government or politics. It is a matter concerning our former emperor, Emperor Septimius Severus and his family.” As he extended his hand towards Emperors, Geta turned curiously to Caracalla.

“What is he saying, brother?” he whispered.

Caracalla answered without looking at him. “Patience brother, you’ll understand soon enough.”

“So you knew?”

He did not answer, which made Geta angry and curious.

By the time Octavius came to get you from the carriage, you were pretty bored sitting inside.

“My lady, it's time.”

You nodded and got out of the carriage with his help, taking a quick look around as you walked together through the crowd. The gladiator fights had taken a break, and people were discussing what was happening in the Curia. One of the trials was underway. A man and a woman were crying, as if they had been convicted of some crime you didn't understand. As you made your way up the stairs of the Curia, one after the other behind Octavius, one of the guards at the entrance blocked your path with an outstretched hand. Octavius brushed his arm away with the back of his hand.

"She is no ordinary woman, and the council members are waiting for her."

"Forgive me," he said, stepping back to allow you to pass.

You and Octavius entered a large hall and proceeded between tall, imposing white pillars. After a short while, you heard the voices of several men. Was there a disagreement in the council? Octavius stood near two large, thick pillars and looked in the direction of the sound, raising his hand towards you. "Perhaps we should wait a moment."

As the big iron door swung open, you could hear the voices inside a bit better.

"Are you saying that our sister is alive?"

It was Geta's voice, sounding angry. "Where has she been all this time?"

"As I said, Your Majesty, your sister was sent to Egypt on your father's orders. She wasn't there when I went to find her, but she is here now. Your sister is waiting outside with the letter your father, the Emperor, wrote to her. Shall I bring her here now?"

Macrinus' voice was loud but persuasive.

“Yes, the council wants to see her!” Someone else's voice was louder than his.

The voices that rose and echoed in the great hall were positive, a flicker of nervousness swept through you. Soon, Macrinus appeared in the doorway.

“My lady, remove your cloak, please.”

You did as he said, Octavius held it for you, and you felt a little reassured that he was there.

Macrinus accompanied you into the meeting room, his demeanor somewhat less reassuring than you had hoped. “Walk with a little more confidence, my lady, you will soon be declared 'filia regis’ (princess).”

His confident face was only working in his favor. It had nothing to do with you. You were trying to look ahead as you descended the stairs one by one, the councillors began to murmur, you didn't feel ready to look at them, and soon you heard Caracalla's hysterical laughter, you were startled and looked in the direction of the sound.

He pointed his finger at you. “You! It must be a lame joke!”

Geta was silent, only his eyes locked on you, leaning forward and marveling under his eyebrows. Caracalla stormed out of his seat and came over to Macrinus.

“What does this mean?”

“You told me my sister was coming, but you forgot to tell me who she was?” he scolded him in a low voice.

“It's pure coincidence that you've met her before, Highness.”

He then looked in the direction where the general was sitting, and you had the opportunity to observe him and the others. All the members were dressed in white togas, similar to the general, but with black embroidery around the edges of their clothes. It was a large hall filled with men, and it was somewhat awkward and uncomfortable to be in the middle of them as the only woman.

"She resembles her mother," one individual posited.

“Indeed, she is an exact match, both physically and genetically," another concurred. “Just like in the records.”

A multitude of voices were present, yet your attention was directed towards Caracalla, who directed a finger at the general.

"For how long have you been aware of this, General Acacius?”

“He didn’t know!”

As your voice echoed through the vast hall with a ringing effect among all the male voices, the other voices gradually faded and Caracalla turned to look at you. Then you handed him the letter.

“I got the chance to open it on the day of the ceremony. That's when I found out everything. General Acacius had no idea.”

This time you said it looking at all the council members as your eyes met Acacius. He was staring at Caracalla, looking a bit angry. Geta arose from his seat and approached Caracalla. He took the letter from his hand and read it over, then looked at you.

“Why didn't you say anything that day?”

"I was planning to," you replied. "I was uncertain of your reaction and what you would do," your eyes shifted to Caracalla. Another councillor approached and examined the letter.

“This is the seal of Emperor Septimius Severus,” he said, looking at the other members. Caracalla grasped the letter and held it up. “But a broken seal and a piece of paper which doesn't prove anything.” Geta reached out to take it from him, but he pushed him away with his elbow, tore the letter into pieces and threw it on the floor.

You were filled with anger. "That was the last thing left of my father," your voice was higher than you would have cared to have it be.

Macrinus interjected, "Your Majesty, while I understand your concerns, I believe it would be beneficial to hear the rest of the speech before making a decision.”

“I want to hear it.” Geta sat back in his seat.

Caracalla nodded and reluctantly joined him.

You clenched your fists, looking at the pieces of the letter on the floor, some of them scattered on your sandals. It was hard not to cry, your father's seal lying on the ground like something worthless. How could he be so cruel?

"Sir Macrinus, if I might be so bold, I would like to say a few words before you speak," said the oldest member of the council.

As he stood up and came to stand beside you, the room fell silent. "I was fortunate to have the opportunity to meet Lady Aurelia before she disappeared," he said, looking at you. "Her eyes and hair are similar, and her face has retained a remarkable resemblance. The emperor Septimius affectionately titled to her as 'Aurelia' due to her blonde hair. I am the one who made it official, and I have my signature and seal included in the record book. It is an honor to see you again, Lady Aurelia.” He bowed his head.

"I am truly grateful for your kind assistance, sir.” Your voice broke.

The crowd began to murmur again, with only a few objecting. The general was looking at you with a soft expression, and you smiled back, though you quickly turned your head away to avoid being noticed. Macrinus thanked the elderly member, waited for him to take his seat, and then he turned to the council members.

"I was fortunate to be able to visit Egypt four years ago at the Emperor's request. I went in search of the lady Aurealia, who was residing with Vicius, Septimius' personal medicus. I had a brief encounter with her, but it seemed that she was still unaware of the truth about herself. Vicius was of the opinion that the Emperor had not sent me. Perhaps he considered himself to be more closely aligned with the Emperor than I was. I am still curious as to what the Emperor may have promised him,” he said sarcastically.

“He did a good job of hiding her,” Caracalla said, teasingly.

The crowd found his behaviour amusing and laughter echoed through the great hall. Geta joined in with the laughter. The mood in the hall started to lighten, but you frowned. It wasn't right to disrespect his memory.

“Sir Macrinus, you mentioned seeing the lady Aurelia around four years ago, which is around the time we lost Septimius Severus.” One of the councillors said.

“I know what you're implying, but I've always had the trust of our emperors since they ascended to the throne. I couldn't bring your sister because I returned here as soon as I heard the news of Septimius Severus' death.” He said, looking at him and then back to the emperors. “He gave me a task before he died and told me to get it done. But I'm not the only one. There's someone else he assigned. With your permission, I call consul ordinarius Gaius Septimius Severus Aper here.”

Once more, the great hall was filled with murmuring. Macrinus  turned  towards you. “Your cousin,” he explained. You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“I hate him,” Caracalla growled. Geta didn't seem to like him either.

A moment later, Gaius entered the great hall with another letter in his hand, greeted everyone and came over to you. He appeared to be in his thirties, well built but not soldierly, with an attractive but stern face.

“Lady Aurelia, we meet at last,” he said, smiling at you. You nodded, but didn't have anything to say, and were pretty surprised.

“Another letter?” Geta enquired.

“It seems our father has written letters to everyone but us,” Caracalla said, making a face.

They stood up and gave their cousins the kind of hug that was pretty clearly insincere. It was obvious that they didn't get along. Gaius held the letter up for everyone to see.

“I was with my uncle when he wrote this letter, he sealed it in my presence.” Gaius said.

“Before or after you fled to Leptis Magna?” Caracalla asked. Geta burst out laughing.

He ignored them and spoke to the council instead. "Members of the Senate, I break the seal in your presence," he said, and broke the seal of the letter that the father had sealed himself and opened it.

Macrinus asked permission to take the letter and summarised it for the council members.

“It seems that our Emperor has directed Gaius to ensure that upon the eventual return of Lady Aurelia, she will be duly restored to her full birth rights. That makes two of us sir Gaius.” Macrinus and him exchanged looks that made you sure they talked about his before.

“I am privileged to be able to convey greetings from your relatives in Leptis Magna to you. The entire Severan Dynasty salutes you, my lady,” Gaius said, bowing to you. “And of course you, our emperors,” he bowed to them, as a reply Caracalla turned his head in disgust.

Oldest member of council came towards you again with few members beside him.

‘Then, before our emperors and your esteemed councillors, I extend an invitation to all to welcome our filia regis princess Septimia Aurelia Marciana, first of the name, daughter of Emperor Caesar Lucius Septimius Severus Pertinax Augustus and his first wife Paccia Marciana, patroness of Leptis Magna back to her home.” He sang out.

"A very warm welcome back to Lady Aurelia!" someone stood up and said in a cheerful voice.“Welcome back, filia regis Aurelia!” another joined him.

And all the council members repeated in unison.

Geta approached you in a cheerful manner, clapping his hands. “Welcome, I embrace you as my sister," he said, kissing you on the cheek. You were somewhat startled, but you kept your composure, your cheeks blushed. "We must celebrate this," Caracalla said, kissing you on the other cheek, smiling involuntarily. You forced a smile in return, although he still made you feel somewhat nervous.

“My brother is right, we must celebrate!”

All the members were now standing and applauding, their enthusiasm evident in the resounding applause that echoed through the great hall.

"Sir Macrinus, bring the new gladiators to the Domus Severiana tomorrow. I want new games!" Caracalla smiled with joy.

"As you wish, your majesty," he bowed his head.

"But brother, tomorrow is the festival of Saturnalia," Geta whined.

“Well? That's better, it'll add some excitement.”

While they were chatting, you scanned the room, looking for the General among all the men.

Caracalla turned to you. “As our sister, you're supposed to come with us now?”

This was something you hadn't planned. You didn't factor in the idea of living under the same roof with them. Why didn't you think of that before?

Geta stood between you and Caracalla. “Mother must be pretty shaken up, perhaps you could go and find her first, I'll accompany Aurelia, she's a bit wary of you,” he grinned at you and took your arm.

Caracalla smirked. “Fine by me.” But you could tell he was watching you two.

'Come on, sister, there's lots to do.' You were a little surprised by how fast they welcomed you, but you feel grateful somehow.

The council members were all standing and chatting, and although you wanted to go to the general in this crowd and talk to him, you had to put it out of your mind for now. Before Geta pulled you along by the arm and led you out, you looked back at Marcus for the last time and saw that he looked worried. As you descended the stairs of the Curia with Geta, cheers and applause erupted from the crowd outside.

“Emperor Geta!”

Guards surrounded you to protect you, the crowd chanting Geta's name with enthusiasm.

Geta raised his hands high and greeted them. Then he grabbed you by the wrist and raised your arm.

"People of Rome, allow me to introduce you to your filia regis, Lady Aurelia!"

You didn't expect it to happen so soon. The crowd fell silent. Caracalla came running up behind him and grabbed Geta's other arm.“Eager much, brother? We must announce at the festival tomorrow.”

After a brief period of murmuring, the crowd suddenly began clapping and shouting again. You were taken aback when Julia took your other arm. How long had she been there?

"I would like to invite you all to welcome Lady Aurelia!" she sang.

"Welcome Lady Aurelia!" someone shouted loudly and cheerfully.

“Lady Aurelia!”

Just like in the hall, the streets of the Roman Forum began to echo with your name. It was a strange feeling, a bit frightening, exciting, and proud. You weren't used to any of it, but you were born that way, a princess. It will take me a while to get used to it, you thought.

“See? They love her already,” Geta winked at Caracalla, then pushed back the hair that had fallen over your shoulder. “Smile, sister.”

For him it was easy to say, for you it was all so sudden and you would have to adjust to this new situation. As the crowd chanted your names, the general, who had been observing the proceedings from a distance, seemed somewhat displeased that Geta had managed to touch you with such ease.

He hated to see another man touches you, even if it was your half-brother.

"General Acacius, it's been a long time," Gaius came up to him.

"Sir Gaius," the general nodded. "You are correct, I had just been appointed commander of the southern armies when I arrived at Leptis Magna. It must be decades." His eyes were watching you from afar.

"I must say that you played a significant role in the success of the battle there," he said. "I believe our people are still grateful to you." He was also observing you and Geta.

"I believe you stayed there to hide the emperor's letter. I understand why you chose to stay away from the capital," the general's eyes shifted to Caracalla.

"I believe he may view me as a potential threat to the throne, as he has done in the past. However, I believe it is my duty to remain here and complete my mission," he said with conviction.

The general observed Gaius' gaze and perceived that he was focusing it on you.

"I must ensure the safety of Lady Aurelia."

"But perhaps it would be wise to ensure your own safety as well? I believe you may be in more danger than she is.”

Gaius picked up on the hint in his voice. "Sir Macrinus told me a little about your relationship with her. I'm really grateful that you protected her while I was away."

The general stayed silent and waited, obviously sensing Gaius' intentions with his man instincts.

"I'll ask the emperors for her hand in marriage. I'm sure she'll be safer in Leptis Magna. She can't be happy with them – look how uneasy she is with them.”

The general looked tense. "I wasn't aware you were a widow," he said.

"Yes, I got divorced a while ago," he replied with a smile. "I would like to remarry, as a widow, you know what I mean, I guess."

Acacius returned his smile with a disgusted expression. "Could Iask why you believe Lady Aurelia will marry you? I am merely cautioning you in advance, Sir Gaius, because I am convinced that you will be rejected." He smiled wryly at him, then turned his back on him and began to ascend the stairs.

Macrinus approached him as Gaius glared angrily after him." You were right – there is something between those two."

"Don't worry, tomorrow at the festival we'll take the first step to get rid of Acacius once and for all."

Gaius turned to him, looking angry. "How can that be? He's someone everyone respects. He's the biggest obstacle in my way."

He touched his shoulder. ”The gladiators are ready to fight, we just need Majesties’ approval tomorrow. Then Acacius will find himself in the Colosseum, and then we'll get rid of him for good. Then there will be nothing in our way, my friend." He smiled confidently.

Palatine Hill…

As the morning sun shone on the crimson-red roofs of the Domus Severiana, the birds chirped cheerfully and flew around, their songs of joy filling the air. Yesterday was a turning point for you. Things moved pretty quickly, and it was a bit of a challenge to adjust. When you first arrived with your half-brothers last evening, it was a lot easier than you thought it would be. Julia, their mother, was pretty quiet all night, but she didn't react badly to you, which surprised you even more. e. You got the feeling that she could be pretty ruthless, even though she seemed pretty calm. The idea of living in the same house with them wasn't appealing to you. In fact, it made you feel uneasy. Geta was the only one who didn't make you nervous, but you knew he was unpredictable like his mother.

You opened your eyes in your new room and bed, looked around, and closed them again. This room was big and luxurious, much more so than your room in the general's villa. A bit too much, you thought. You pulled the silk bed sheet over your head and sighed deeply. You would give anything to open your eyes to the new day lying next to Marcus, in his arms.

You were no longer a slave, nor a Medicus, nor could you go to his villa as a commoner. It seems that even as a princess, you don't always get to choose. But you missed him so much, his strong arms around you, his sensual lips, all the memories you had in his villa.

A gentle knock at the door momentarily distracted you from your thoughts, which seemed to fade into the elegant surroundings of this splendid room.

"Please come in," you said, sitting up in bed.

A young slave girl entered the room.

"My lady, I am pleased to see you are awake," she said, her voice conveying a sense of concern.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Yes, it's about Emperor Geta."

You removed the bedclothes around you and got out of the large bed.

“What happened to him?”

“He asked me to take you to him quietly, he doesn't want the Empress to hear.”

‘Hear what?’

‘He seems a little unwell.’

‘Take me to him,’ you said quickly. You were concerned that the poison might still be present in his body.

You left your room and went into the main hall to leave your chamber. Your room was in the east corner of the other courtyard. They said, it was your mother and father’s chambers when they first married. You strode up the stairs and entered Geta's chambers. It was still early, so the room was quiet. The other slaves looked at you with concern as you approached the door of the room where you had come to heal him the last time. They greeted you and opened the door for you. You were surprised to see a couple of young slaves lying on the floor. Their bodies were naked, which made you blush with shame. It was clear that your brother Geta had a lot of fun last night. There were two girls in Geta's bed, but he was nowhere to be seen. You looked at the latrina (bathroom, toilet) door and heard a coughing sound behind. He should have been there, but you had no intention of finding him naked.

You cleared your throat and called out to him.

“Highness? Geta? Brother?”

There was a brief interlude of laughter, and then he looked up at you through the latrine door.

“I need to get used to this, a woman's voice calling me brother.”

His face was as white as marble.

"Is everything all right? You look a little pale.”

“It's because I started the damn day throwing up.”

You looked down at the wine glasses on the floor and sighed.

"You must have had a lot to drink. You're just recovered, so you need to be careful about alcohol.” As you approached the latrine door, he was coming out, you almost bumped into each other. You quickly backed away and turned around, it was a bit stuffy in there, you moved to open the big window.

Geta looked like a little boy, messy hair and all, far away from an emperor.

"Do you think it's because I didn't drink your herbal thing?" He threw himself into the armchair by the window, covered his face with his arm.

“You didn’t?" You looked at him in shock. “How could you not? You had to drink it all to get better.” You were angry.

“But it tasted like cow dung.” He whined, lifted his arm up, gave you a mocking look. “What, are you scolding me?”

You swallowed. “Your Majesty,” you said suggestively. “You must drink the concoction for your own health.”

“I can't.”

You crossed your arms. “Don't you want to get better?”

“Because of that stupid whore, she broke the bottle. That's what happens when you bring a whore from the whorehouse.”

When you heard that word, you thought of Decima. You faced the fact that you had left her behind while you were dealing with everything.

“Could you make the mixture again? It's a festival day and I want to feel good, I don't want to look unwell especially when I’m with Caracalla.” He mumbled.

“I will, but may I ask something in return?”

“Aha! You don't act like a saint anymore, huh?” He laughed. You ignored his joke, approached him.

“Please, brother, a small favor?” Perhaps it seemed to you that you were looking at him in a pleading way. But to him, it was seductive, though he didn't show that. He cleared his throat.

“Alright, what can I do for my lovely sister? What is it you want, I really wonder?”

You smiled hesitantly. “A platoon of soldiers.”

Geta opened his eyes wide, let out a hearty laugh, stood up, and then laughed again, clapping his hands. You tried to stay calm and wait patiently.

He laughed so hard that the slaves on the floor and the ones in his bed all woke up and quickly left the room.

“You know, you really are an unbelievable woman.” His childish smile spread all over his face. He let out another laugh. Then he crossed his arms. “What are you planning to do with all those soldiers? I am genuinely curious.”

“I'm going to save my friend.”

He put his hand on his chin, thinking, narrowing his eyes.

“Why don't you ask the General Acacius for help? He can do alone what a platoon of soldiers can do.”

“Because he won't like what I'm going to do,” you were sure of it.The mere thought of it made you nervous, so you had to get it done as soon as possible.

Geta laughed again. “Something Acacius wouldn't like, hmm, sounds delicious. The soldiers are at your service, sister.”

Whore House…

In the early morning, the street where the whorehouse was located was not very crowded, even quiet. Compared to other parts of the city, it might have been the quietest place in the mornings, but not today. You had come to this street with a group of ten soldiers with a single purpose. And this time you had the power to do it. Not as Aya, but as Princess Aurelia.

Walking with confidence among the soldiers, not paying attention to the people looking at you. You paused in front of the door, and the soldiers stopped with you. You'd already told the commander what was going to happen. He nodded and kicked the door open. The soldiers scattered inside to make sure you got in safely, the last two entering with you, standing next to you, protecting you.

Juturna, the woman who owned this place, looked like she had just woken up. She was surprised to see the soldiers; her pupils were popping out of their sockets.

Then she saw you and pointed her finger at you.

“You! What the?”

The room where they were holding Decima was upstairs. You ignored Juturna's whine and headed for that room. The soldiers were waiting for you downstairs, and one of them came behind you to protect you. When you stepped in front of the room, you rushed inside. Decima was lying on the bed, her wrists still cuffed with chains. She looked a little weak and hardly looked at you. You were incredibly angry. You grabbed her chain and looked at the soldier.

“Uncuff her!”

The soldier nodded and grabbed the collar of one of the guards who had come after you.

“You heard the lady!”

The guard was frightened, he quickly uncuffed her, and Decima's bruised face lit up with a ray of hope. When she was free, she hugged you.

“Aya, but how?”

“Never mind now, let's get you out of here first.”

You grabbed her arm and led her out of the room. As you made your way downstairs, you heard Juturna's cries.

“Lady you can't do this!” she lunged towards you, but one of the soldiers pushed her back.

“Pay her compensation,” you ordered one of the soldiers. He handed her the pouch full of coins.

“This girl is now my slave, send the necessary papers to the Domus Severiana, and if you have any objections, try the Emperor Geta.”

She swallowed hard, knowing full well that she'd never want to contradict him. You smiled triumphantly as you and Decima walked out of there with the soldiers behind you. Then you stopped suddenly when you saw the general standing next to your carriage.

When did he come?

You led Decima inside the carriage and looked at him. He'd called the commander of the troops to him and was talking to him. He punched him on the chest, but not so hard. Was he scolding him?

As you approached him, the soldier was coming towards you, rubbing his chest where General had hit him.

“The General says we're done here, my lady, if you'll excuse me.” he bowed his head.

“The General is right, you can go,” you said, looking at General.

“You really do whatever you set your mind to, you are so stubborn, my lady.” He muttered.

“How do you know I was here?”

Acacius crossed his arms and squinted at you. “I am the General, remember? All the soldiers in this city are under my command.”

"I see. I understand why you might be upset with me for not asking for help. I thought you could stop me from coming here, so I asked Geta for help."

"I can see that you and your brother Geta are close. I believe he asked you for something in return?”

"I promised to make the herbal concoction to heal him."

"I'd like to hear the real answer."

He smiled, but his eyes were sharp. It was impossible to lie to those eyes.

"Perhaps I told him you wouldn't like it," you said, biting your lower lip.

“This is the answer I'm looking for.”

“I didn’t want you to upset, I’m sorry.”

“It's not something you should be sorry about,” he said, looking at the carriage behind you. “You did it for your friend, I understand.”

Her eyes softened, and he was smiling once more, which prompted you to return his smile.

“I miss you,” you said in a low tone.

"I miss you more, my lady. "There are memories of you all over the villa. Facing those memories makes me sorrowful." His brown eyes were warm. "I find I miss you more when I'm in my room. There are so many reminders of you there," he said, his lips curving in a mischievous smile. He leaned his head towards you, close to your ear. "Especially in my bed." You gasped as his warm breath hit your face, your heart racing.

You almost forgot you were in the middle of the street. You were ready to throw yourself into his arms. You pulled yourself together with his giggling, he must have been amused by your facial expression. You jokingly nudged his muscled arm with your elbow.

"You're pretty shameless, General. Seducing me right here in the middle of the street.”

“Apologies, my lady,” he said, laughing.

"Are you coming to the festival today?”

“Yes, I've been invited and I would like to take this opportunity to talk with the emperors.”

You heard the hint in his voice, but you didn't understand it. His grin made you even more curious. He never smiled when he talked about emperors, so this was weird.

‘What are you going to talk to them about, I wonder?’

Acacius held your hand and looked into your eyes. "If it pleases you, my lady, I will tell them I ask your hand in marriage."

You froze and opened your eyes wide, unsure if you had heard correctly. Acacius smiled and kissed your hand.

“You can give me your answer after the festival. You might want to head out now, as preparations are about to get underway.” He put his arm around you and pulled you towards the carriage.

You looked at him before getting in, “I'll be waiting for you there, Marcus.”

@myownwholewildworld @orcasoul @pedroslut4eva @immyowndefender @lailathepedritofan @screechingchildfury @shinymusicpanda @somedayheaven @ivoryandflame @negrita2345 @music-lover09 @javiismyhsbnd @idontcareihavenoidea @jisungandpedrolover

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[wordsofwhimsy]

EᗰᑭIᖇE Oᖴ TᗯO

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

【Ａ/Ｎ】⦂ Thank you beautifulpersonsblog for the request! I’m not sure what type of personality you had in mind for the Kryptonian reader so I just ran with it. I hope you enjoy!

【ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧ】⦂ Sinister!Mark Grayson x Kryptonian!Reader

【ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ】⦂ Violence, oppression

【ＩＮＳＰＩＲＡＴＩＯＮ】⦂ “My Piece” by Miguel

【ＳＹＮＯＰＳＩＳ】⦂ In Sinister Mark’s universe there is a Kryptonian who, for whatever reason, has taken up the mantel of being his partner in crime. The atrocities they commit together are unthinkable, and more than that—unstoppable.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The night was quiet. The city below sprawled with lights and sporadic dots of burning fires as it trembled under the weight of tyranny. From your view on the balcony of Mark’s high-rise fortress, the world seemed so small. So fragile. The moon hung low in the sky, bathing everything in a silver glow. But to Mark, the world wasn’t bathed in light. It was bathed in control. And the woman standing next to him, gazing out at the city with silent intensity, was his greatest weapon.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Mark's voice broke the silence, though it wasn’t a compliment—it was simply an observation. He wasn’t one for pleasantries. His tone was firm, devoid of any tenderness, the way he always spoke. You were his ally, his tool—his lover? Of course. He’d be a fool not to make use of a body that sumptuous. The warmth though that typically existed between lovers was absent, replaced instead by a cold sense of purpose and obsession.

Your Kryptonian features caught the moonlight perfectly—sharp, angular, striking. A goddess among mortals, and Mark revealed in the idea of his possession of you. You were strength, beauty, grace—but above all a weapon to be unleashed on his command.

You turned to face him, your eyes narrowing slightly, not at the compliment, but at the context. You knew him well enough by now to understand his twisted nature. The way he operated.

"You don't need to flatter me, Mark," you said, voice low with a raw edge. The arrogance in your tone matched his. "If you need me to make a move, just say it."

He nodded, an almost imperceptible smirk pulling at his lips. "You’re such a good girl…”

Mark took a step toward you, eyes calculating, never once betraying any emotion that wasn't necessary. "I need you to do something for me. There’s a resistance—weak, disorganized, but disrespectful to my rule, quite frankly. I want them broken."

Your lips curled into a subtle smile. "You know exactly what I want," he continued, a lustrous tone to his words. "I want them to see what happens when they oppose us. I want them terrified."

You stepped closer, your eyes locking with his. There was a moment of silent understanding between you two—a recognition of power and mutual respect. Mark wasn't the type to get close to anyone, but with you, he was different. Not in a sentimental way, but in the way that a king might view his queen. Necessary. Useful. As beautiful and dangerous as a blade.

"You have no idea how good it feels to be used," you whispered, your voice dripping with dark satisfaction. "To be part of something… greater."

Mark’s lips twitched upward, not into a smile, but into something far darker. "Then make them see. Make them fear you. They won’t know what hit them."

The moment suddenly became charged with an intensity that neither of you could ignore. The calculated coldness that normally hung between you both evaporated, replaced by something far more primal. There was no longer a leader and a tool, no longer a ruler and his weapon. In this moment, it was just the two of you, standing at the edge of destruction, and something dangerous stirring in the night.

You could see the way his chest rose and fell, the slight clench of his jaw, the hunger behind his cold eyes. Without warning you closed the space between you, reaching up to rest your hand on the stony contours of his chest. For a brief moment Mark tensed, as if anticipating the risk of what might come next. But then you pulled him in, lips crashing together with an intensity that felt like it could level everything in its path. The kiss was fierce, hungry—nothing gentle about it. His hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as if to ensure that no distance would remain between you.

You responded in kind, your body pressing into his as the kiss deepened. There was no softness, no warmth. Just raw, unrestrained power. The way his lips moved against yours was deliberate, controlled, as if every kiss was an extension of his will. You matched it, your hands gripping his hair, tugging him closer, as if you, too, wanted to assert your dominance.

Mark growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest, and it only spurred you on. You pulled away just enough to look at him—his eyes dark, filled with a mix of control and something darker, more primal. "This is what power feels like," you whispered, your breath coming in shallow bursts, your body trembling under the weight of the moment.

He didn’t respond right away, but his fingers traced the curve of your jaw, his touch cold. "I don’t need to feel power," he said, voice low and dangerous, his gaze never leaving yours. "I am power."

And before you could respond his lips were on yours again, this time even more urgent, the world around you fading to nothing as you both drowned in the fire of your shared ambition.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was an assertion. A claim. And in that single, heated moment, everything that stood between you—every rule, every limit—was torn away. But sooner than either of you would have liked, the moment came to an end. Your lips pulled from his as he eyed the sheen of saliva now coating your mouth. It stirred an arousal deep in the pit of his abdomen.

A dark glint flickered in your eyes. "Leave them to me. I'll make sure they understand who’s in charge."

Mark gave a slight tilt of his head, acknowledging the agreement. As you moved to leave, he spoke again, his voice soft but cutting, the kind of tone that commanded loyalty without question. "Remember you’re not just here for show. You’re here because you're better than them. Use that."

With a single look, you walked past him, the heels of your boots clicking sharply against the floor as you left the room, each step bring you closer to the chaos you would soon unleash.

Mark watched you leave, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. You would do the work, ugly and bloody, and in return he would give you the dominion over this world that you both craved.

This resistance would be nothing but a footnote in the history you would write together.

Later that night...

The city streets were littered with mayhem. The resistance members who had dared to stand up against Mark’s rule were scattered, their hopes shattered. The few who remained struggled to hold on to the last threads of rebellion. But there was no escaping the inevitable.

You hovered above them, your Kryptonian presence an overwhelming symbol of strength that left those who witnessed it breathless and awestruck. The few brave souls who had gathered to oppose Mark’s empire looked up in terror as you descended, the night sky darkening around you like an omen. They could see it—your absolute dominance, and they knew in an instance that resistance would be futile.

With a flick of your wrist you sent them flying, their bodies crashing against walls, into cars, and across streets. The screams of the helpless echoed in the distance, but you didn’t care. You never did. Thia rebellion would break just like the rest had—through force, through fear.

Mark watched with satisfaction from his perch atop their fortress. His fingers tightened around the railing, a cold smirk crossing his face as you obliterated their last hope of standing tall. You were the storm he released from the sky, all encompassing in your oppression. The sight excited him in ways he could hardly contain.

And when you returned to him, stood beside him once again, the pleasured sensation thudding in his chest and coiling in his stomach was almost euphoric.

Mark turned to you, struggling to control how much feeling he convey on his face, but the truth was self-evident. In this twisted relationship, you were indispensable. The storm was yours to create, but only he could control it.

Together, the world would fall. And it would fall to you.

 “That was impressive,” he said, his voice almost reverent. “You didn’t just defeat them. You absolutely annihilated them. Such a beautiful thing you watch you show them that no one—and I do mean no one—stands a chance when we’re in control.”

You both couldn’t help but to relish in the feeling of triumph. You had crushed the resistance, obliterated anyone who dared to oppose Mark’s will. And Mark wasn’t just pleased; he was exhilarated. His eyes were fixed on you, a dark gleam in them that wasn’t just admiration but unsuppressed hunger.

He took a step toward you, his posture commanding. “You really did break them,” he said, his voice low, thick with satisfaction. “I knew you were strong, but this—seeing you unleash that power... this is exactly why I chose you.”

Your chest swelled with pride at his words. He didn’t just view you as a weapon in his arsenal. In this moment, he saw you as something more. A force to be reckoned with, equal to him in every way. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, not with cold calculation but appreciation.

“I told you,” you murmured, your voice rich with confidence as you stepped closer. “I’ve always known what I’m capable of. I just had to make you see it too”

The space between you closed as Mark reached out, his hand brushing your cheek, the gesture almost tender but there still being a lingering notion of power behind it. A claim. A promise. “You make me so proud,” he nearly purred. “You’ve earned this. You’ve earned everything.”

His words were like fire, lighting something inside you. The look in his eyes—the raw hunger, the respect, the shared ambition—pulled you in. Without another word you crushed your lips to his, your hands threading into his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss was explosive—ferocious, full of raw desire and ecstasy.

Mark responded instantly, his hands roaming over your back, pulling you closer as if to make sure there was no air left between your bodies. His kiss was intense, possessive, but there was a deeper current to it—a viscousness that suggested he needed to remind you he was still in charge of if all—that included you.

You broke the kiss, breathing unaffected as you looked up at him with a rush of adrenaline. His eyes were dark, glowing.

“You were perfect,” he said, voice thick with desire. “You’re perfect. We’re unstoppable.”

 “We are unstoppable,” you replied, your lips pulling into a wicked smile. “And I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.”

He didn’t hesitate. Mark pulled you back into him, kissing you again, this time even deeper as his hands exploring your body, claiming it as his. There was no need for words now—only actions. Your fingers roamed over his chest, feeling the strength beneath the fabric, the undeniable power that had brought you both to this point.

Mark’s hands slid down your sides, lifting you effortlessly as if you were weightless, and before you could fully process he had you pressed against the nearest wall, his lips never leaving yours. The kiss was all-encompassing, a physical manifestation of the control and dominance you both now shared. There was no hesitation in his touch, no doubt in his mind. He claimed you just as he had claimed the world—completely.

The kiss broke only for a moment, both of you seemingly starved for the others touch as your bodies still pressed together. “You are mine,” he said softly, the words a dark promise, a declaration.

“And you mine,” you replied, your voice full of equal certainty as your nails dragged down his chest before pulling him in for another kiss as if to seal the agreement between you.

The world outside, the people you had crushed underfoot—none of it mattered now. It was just the two of you, reveling in the power you had claimed, the empire you’d built together. This was only the beginning, and you both knew that nothing would stand in your way.

[halfbloodfics]

I've never requested anything from anyone before but I absolutely love the way you perceive Snape. I'd love something that would start off as the reader having a bad day and when she returns to her and Snapes shared home in Spinners End, he takes good care of her. If ya know what I mean. I'm thinking thigh riding but he helps her through it, talks her through it...etc... Please!!

i am honoured to be ur first request let us hope i live up to it

Title: Our little remedy

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), explicit smut, gentle dom sev, thigh riding, lots of praising, fluffy ending

A/N: the title is inspired by the song "moments silence by hozier", which is actually about oral sex, but also about sex as an act of releasing of power & solution to ones problems ;)

~

(this gif is just.. sets the scene u feel me?)

~

The door slammed shut behind you. The fleeting sound of the pouring rain silenced once more, replaced by the gentle crackling of the fireplace.

The Daily Prophet fell, Severus' gaze flicked up to meet yours, his expression blank but eyes betraying a sense of concerned amusement at your.. disheveled apperance.

"Hi." You said rather shortly, not even moving to put down your bag or take off your coat. You stood in place, your soaked hair and clothes dripping onto the door mat.

Severus looked you over for another moment, before the sound of his monotone voice cut through the tense silence. "You're wet."

You scoffed, dropped your bag, but before you could take a step off the mat to go get dried, Severus reached for the wand beside him, flicking it and drying you off in an instant.

With your gaze still on the floor, tears pricked at your eyes. It had been a day.. to say the least. Nothing necessarily horrible, but it just seemed as if one thing after had gone wrong. Despite your best attempts to brush them off, minor inconviences seemed to plague you. If there a reverse liquid luck potion existed, you were sure someone had slipped one in your morning coffee.

Strength had prevailed, until now. Severus had a way of drawing out the parts of yourself you'd kept in the dark. Simply being in his presence was enough to break down the barriers you had put up all day. And now, they were certainly falling down.

In the corner of your teary eyes, you saw Severus pat his lap. His gesture a silent permission to accept the comfort you seek.

Without even hesitating, you took off your coat, letting it fall lazily to the floor, and approached Severus. Standing between his legs, you put your hands on his knees, keeping your gaze on them so as not to let him see the tears brimming your eyes.

Even though it was no doubt he'd already seen them.

His fingers gently tilted your chin up to look at him, hes eyes scanning your face for a moment before looking into your tearful eyes. His thumb gently caressed your chin, drawing soft, comforting circles as you took a shaky breath.

"Rough day." He said, his voice a low murmer.

You nodded, exhaled shakily. His dark eyes continued to stare into yours for a moment longer, as if he was reading your mind. Perhaps he was, it wouldn't have been the first time he'd done so when you were too upset to tell him what was going on. After a moment, his gaze softened, his hand moving down to your waist.

His other hand patted his thigh again, you straddled him, resting your head against his shoulder. For a moment you simply sat there, your chest against his, inhaling and exhaling in time with his breathing. His hands trailed up your thighs, up your back, up your shoulders; gently massaging and working away at the tight knots that had formed.

A soft hum escaped your lips. Severus always knew how to take care of you. He knew when you needed tough love or to be coddled, even before you knew it yourself. As you sank deeply onto his lap you relised you wanted the later.

"Sev..." You sighed, about to continue when his hand ran up your back, settling at the base of hair, tugging gently to expose your neck.

"I know, sweetheart." He murmered, his breath hot against the sensitive skin by your ear. Placing soft, gentle kisses under your jaw, tugging gently on your hair again to expose more of your neck to him. Softly, slowly, he planted tender, careful kisses across your skin.

The tension left your body with a sigh, leaning into his touch and his guidance, you allowed yourself to go practically limp in his arms. He held you tighter, one arm supporting your back, the other in your hair, as he continued his journey down your neck.

Softly, he spoke in between kisses. "I've got you."

Another heavy sigh escaped your lips, eyes fluttering shut, the worries of the day slowly abandoning you. Severus was not an impatient lover. Although sometimes it could border on teasing, he often took his time with you. Particularly in instances like these, where you needed a little extra love. His actions, though never sloppy, were even more focused now. His lips placing firm, purposeful, gentle kisses along your neck. Sucking with tender force, his breath hot on your skin.

As his teeth grazed your neck, you moaned quietly, instinctively bucking your hips forward, your tired body seeking release.

Upon hearing your moan, his teeth gently tugged at your skin, both arms now wrapping across your back, holding you flush against his chest.

"Sev.." You sighed. "Please..."

His lips pulled away, leaving your neck feeling almost cold from the sudden absence of his warmth.

You looked into his dark eyes, noticing the gentle desire in them as he studied your face, hand reaching up to cup your cheek.

For a moment you simply leaned into his touch, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. Until the silence was interupted by his low murmer: "Stand."

And without questioning, you did.

Standing before him in front of the arm chair, you watched as his large hands ran up your thighs, touch gentle., yet firm as his fingers found the zipper of your skirt and tugged it down.

It fell to the floor with barely a sound, your sweater following soon after, until you were standing in front of him in only your bra and underwear, shadows from the fireplace flickering over your skin.

Severus leaned back in his chair for a moment, taking in the view. His expression was blank, but in the glow of the fire you could see the lust in his eyes. It was evident, in the way his gaze slowly raked over you, as if he was commiting you to memory, studying you as if he'd be tested on you...

By the time his gaze finally met your eyes you were staring back at him with that same longing, the familiar heat growing between your legs.

After such a tedious, long day... You somehow felt, attractive; desired.

Severus leaned forward again, looking up at your face as his steady fingers once again trailed up your body, stopping at the back of your bra and unclasping it.

His eyes remained on yours, the shared eye-contact deliberate as he gently pulled the bra off you, letting it fall to the floor in the heap of the rest of your clothes.

Without even looking at your chest, he kept his dark eyes on you, studying your every reaction as his hands ran up your waist, up your sides, until they gently cupped your breasts. Both hands massaging, gently, tenderly.

"Would you like me to take care of you?" He spoke lowly.

The sound, combined with the gentle touch of his hands, went straight to your core. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you breathlessly responded: "Yes.. Please.."

Severus's hands gave a final, loving squeeze on your breasts before gently tracing down your stomach, tugging at your underwear and pulling them down.

You stepped out of them, kicking them gently to the side before looking back down at Severus, who's eyes were drinking in your newly exposed skin.

He adjusted his position on the arm chair, holding your waist as he did, positioning his left thigh between your legs.

The relisation dawned on you...

You looked up at him, expression a mixture of desire and uncertainty.

"You want me to.. ride your thigh?"

Severus's hands remained firmly planted on your waist, his thumbs tracing small circles on your soft skin. "Would you like that, darling?" He asked.

You let out a shaky exhale, the need within you fighting the logical voice telling you not to ruin his robes... his dress pants.

Quietly, you said: "I.. really do, want to, but.. won't I... You know, make a mess?"

Severus blinked slowly, the corners of his lips pulling off in a small, soft smirk. "Have I ever shown any displeasure at the mess you make for me?"

Your lips parted. "No-"

"Have I ever shyed away from creating such mess?" He purred, his voice low.

Yep. That did it.

You looked down, as you gently sank down on his thigh. The contact of your arousal against his clothed thigh eliciting a soft gasp from you.

Severus's hands firmly caressed your waist, not guiding your hips yet, instead allowing you to position yourself comfortably on top of him. After a moment or so, you looked up to match his gaze, giving a small nod.

He cupped the back of your head with his left hand, pulling you closer to him so your forehead was resting on his shoulder. His fingers began to softly massage the base of your scalp, while his other hand continued to caress the soft skin of your waist.

"Take what you need, darling." He murmered into your ear. "I'll take over when you need me."

Your eyes fluttered shut, forehead resting against his shoulder as you slowly began to move your hips, grinding your arousal down on the soft fabric of his black pants.

Almost immediately, a small moan flew from your lips, the tension of the day disolving with every roll of your lips.

Severus continued to massage your scalp and waist, his lips grazing your neck as he spoke: "That's it... Put all your weight on me love, trust me, I can take it."

Your cheeks flushed slightly as you sank down, your full weight now resting on his thighs. The added pressure went straight to your core as you began to move slowly again, feeling the strong muscle of his thigh against your clit.

A shaky exhale fell from your lips.

His left hand travelled down to join the right one on your waist, his grib firm, but gentle as he slowly began to help guide your movements. Pulling you back and forth against him, dragging your soaking arousal across his thighs.

Your breath caught in your throat, released in a shaky moan as your arms wrapped around his neck, seeking comfort. He responded by continuing his gentle movements, whispering in your ear: "There you go... That feels nice doesn't it?"

Nodding quickly, you let out another quiet moan against his neck as you rolled your hips against him.

"Severus.." You whimpered into his raven hair, your arms wrapping tighter around his neck as you clung to him.

"I know, sweetheart." He said gently, continuing to guide your movements, dragging you slowly, firmly across him. "Just focus on me."

His hands gripped your waist a little harder, guiding your movements with a firmer force. The newfound pressure against your clit caused your hips to falter, a movement that was not lost on Severus, who continued to pull you against him.

You panted against his neck, the smell of him, herbal and woodsy, intoxicating you as the rest of the day began to fade away. Your mind forgot all about the minor inconveniences of the day, the trials you had experienced.. Too full of the sensations of your lovers scent, his touch, his deep voice... The curtain of his black hair shielding your gaze from the stack of paperwork and bills behind you. All of him enveloping you, protecting you from everything outside of this very moment.

"Severus.." You whimpered, grinding against him a little quicker now, your movements becoming increasingly confident. "Severus..."

He hummed at the sound of his name on your lips and bounced his leg up slightly to meet your soaking cunt.

A shuddering groan escaped your mouth, your head tilting back, lips parted, eyes closed. Completely drunk on the pleasure he was giving you.

Severus, a quick learner, repeated that move, eliciting a louder moan from you this time. His fingers dug gently into the flesh of your waist, continuing to move you firmly against him.

"Someone liked that, didn't she?" He asked, repeating the movement again, this time gripping your hips down to meet the bounce of his thigh.

As your body made firm contact with his thigh again you allowed a ragged moan to fly from your mouth, your hips instinctively bucking forward.

He hummed, a low sound that vibrated against your chest as you clung to him. His right hand found your hair, tangling his fingers in it and tugging gently, just enough to pull your head back so he could watch your face as you whimpered.

His other hand grabbed your hips, moving you harder against his thigh, dragging your sensitive cunt up and down, in time with the occasional, slight bounce of his leg.

So little, yet so much.. And somehow, the feeling of it began to build in your stomach. A cold sweat breaking out from you, your abdomen clenching, breath coming in quick, short pants.

So..

"Close." Severus voice drew you from your haze. You opened your eyes to find his dark ones staring back at you. His pupils blown, lips slightly parted as he watched every ounce of pleasure dance across your face.

"Yes," He murmered. "My sweet girl is close isn't she?"

Your eyes rolled back in your head, lips parting further as the sensation grew with every quick movement of your hips, every bounce of his thigh rising up against your clit. Gasping shakily, you responded: "I.. Yes.. Close.. Close.."

Both of Severus's hands gripped your waist, moving your hips against his thigh in fast, blunt, jerking movements.

You cried out, tilted your head back, the feeling in your core growing.. building...

"Severus..." You whimpered.

His voice was soft. "Are you going to be a good girl for me and wet my thigh? Let yourself go?"

You gasped at his lewd remark, but the time for shame had long passed. You'd done quite a bit of.. bold things.. with Severus over your relationship. But being completely naked, shamelessly grinding your bare cunt over his clothed body had to be the boldest so far.

Your insecurities out the window, you allowed yourself to succumb to the feeling of your trust in him. Trust that he would take care of you, like he had so many times before. Trust that he would build you up, take you over, guide you down..

The words came out barely a whisper as your legs began to shake: "I.. Yes.. Sev... Sev!"

Noticing the trembling of your legs, Severus's hands moved down to your thighs, holding them in place on his thigh, forcing your body to still against him, ride out every ounce of pleasure he could squeeze from you.

His eyes flicked down to your cunt, watching every movement of your hips, the wetness that had spread over him, staining him. With a deep exhale, he flicked his gaze up to look at your face. Your cheeks flushed, eyes shut, lips quivering...

"I know, darling." He murmered. "You're doing so well. My beautiful, good girl."

The heat in your stomach grew, legs trembling against his firm grip as he continued to gently, but firmly, guide your sensitive clit across his thigh.

A whine escaped your quivering lips. "Severus.. I'm.. Oh.."

"Shh..." He said softly. "I'll take you there."

And take you there, he did.

The combination of his words, mixed with the quick, firm movements of his hands guiding you across his thigh sent you over the edge. Head tossed back, you felt your orgasm building, peaking, as you gripped his shoulders, clinging to him.

He leaned in, murmering into your neck as you rode the wave: "Just like that, my darling girl. Cum all over me."

You continued to shake, even after his grip eventually loosened, his hands trailing up your back and pulling you flush against his chest. You went limp in his arms, panting into his neck as you caught your breath.

"Severus." You panted. "God, I really.. Liked that."

You heard him smirk as his right hand gently gripped your chin and tilted it down, directing you to look at his thigh. Your orgasm has soaked it.. The wet spot fabric glistening in the soft glow of the fireplace.

"I can tell." He said, smugly.

A blush spread across your face. "Oh.. Dear.." You whispered.

He laughed breathlessly, a rare sound from him, but the action drew your gaze up to look at his face. Noticing the fine, smile lines by his eyes crinkling as he gave a small laugh.

And every ounce of despair from todays earlier events, every ounce of embarassment from his little remedy, faded away into the dark oblivian of his eyes as they opened again and found yours. And in that moment, you knew - trusted - that you took care of him, as much as he did you.

Your arms wrapped around him in a tight hug, breathed in the soft smell of his dark hair.

"I love you." You whispered. "Thank you."

His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back. "I love you, darling. There's no need to take me. You know I'll always take good care of you."

~

that was. shameless.

and i loved it.

cheers

[wild-jackalope]

When your boyfriend begins his vampirism transformation, you can’t stand all this time apart from him but visiting him during his rut turns into a big mistake.

pairing :: Vampire!Yuji x Reader

warning :: feral Yuji, pórn with some plot, blood play, animalistic sèx, implied vírgin reader/Yuji, reader passes out, blood sucking, dry hùmping, grinding, making out, Yuji and reader are in college

note :: vamp Choso next? 😏

As a young child, Yuji’s vampirish tendencies seemed more like odd quirks to you.

The way his canines were always largely pronounced, and never seemed to stain or break despite constant blunders to the face via fist or hard ball.

The way he’d always greet you with a sharp smile and hug you with an impressive strength (once you’d received a fractured rib after not having seen him for a week). Whilst his arms trapped your body, he nosed your head, huff the scent of your hair like it was a drug and not letting go until you’d kick and yelp at him to stop.

The way he always knew when you were on your period and the day before you’d get it, murmuring a casual “Are you about to get your period?” And the very next day you’d have stained your sheets during the night or ruined a pair of underwear.

The time he was a toddler and dipped his finger into a puddle of blood that pooled around smushed roadkill and lapped it off his finger like an ice-cream seemed like the worst example of his odd quirks.

So when Yuji was found by other vampires like him, and informed of his heritage, you hardly needed convincing.

“Come here.” Yuji cooed, thick arms outstretched to you.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, you’re so needy today.”

After integrating into a vampire community, your life with Yuji had changed. He went to a different school, had new undead friends.

“I missed you.” He murmured, pulling you in and moulding your body into his against your bed.

“You saw me three days ago.” Like always, Yuji nosed your hair like a in-love cat and inhaled the smell of your latest shampoo.

And despite being with Yuji for so many years, the two of you hadn’t reached the point of having sex. The furthest you’d gone was innocent grinding with some wandering hands. Now living his life as a vampire, the time for intimacy seemed even scarcer.

“Too long.” He drawled, running his fingers in a fluid motion up and down your spine.

“I missed you too.” You huffed, allowing your body to melt into his warm embrace. “I wish your schedule wasn’t such a pain.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Gojo wants me to start getting used to being awake during the night.” His hand lifted to cradle your head, holding you into his chest.

“But you can still walk around in the sunlight.” You protested.

“That might change soon, we don’t know.” His tone laced a tired repetition, giving you the clue he’d likely parroted the same argument you had to his teacher.

“Hm, fine. I don’t mind. Whatever I have to endure to keep my sexy vampire boyfriend.” You buried your head into his chest, hearing the reverberation of his laugh as he pinched your side.

“I’m barely even a vampire.” He added, to which you kissed his chin, hoping to distract him from the thought. “Fushiguro can control animals, what can I do? Punch really hard?” He was too lost in the disappointment of it all, so you dipped a hand under his hood and ran your thumb over his abs whilst planting a wet kiss to his neck.

The loose touch made him shiver and forced a stutter from his hips. His semi-hard dick rolled into your thigh, flushing your face and body at the feeling of his arousal.

He loosened the arms that barricaded you, pulling you to his level. His palm rested at your neck, fingers pressing against your pulse to feel the pump of your blood, a rhythm that always soothed him.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, much too seriously.

“You’re my boyfriend, Yuji, you don’t need to ask anymore.”

“But I love it when you say yes.” His lips mould into a smile. Contagious, you smiled too.

“Yes, I want you to kiss me.”

With a swift breath, Yuji’s lips slipped to your mouth, catching you in a passionate lip lock that immediately informed you just how much he missed you.

His lips devoured yours, starting with a hard press before encasing you in open mouth kisses that demanded you keep up with his rhythm. Just like most times you’d make-out with Yuji, he took hungry charge.

Your hands dipped further, nails dragging along his v-lining and skimming the elastic of his shorts. He rolled into you again, humping the fat of your inner thigh.

The desperation to please himself against your body brought a whine to your lips, which he ate with a smacking intensity. He must’ve decided those sounds were too sweet to muffle because his moving lips traveled further, latching to the pulse on your neck.

“Can we— go all the way this time?” He asked, lips hardly freeing from your neck to speak.

“Mhm.” You shyly muffled, his pink hair tickling your cheek.

His hand dipped underneath your thigh, pulling your leg up and just before he ventured south to undoubtedly give you the best head you’d ever receive he returned to your lips for another kiss.

His teeth tightened around your bottom lip, his canine breaking through the pink skin, causing spurts of blood to fall into your kiss. As soon as the sweet taste met Yuji’s tongue, he pushed you away, eyes blown wide staring at the nip.

Tasting the metallic blood yourself, you wiped the thin drops away. “It’s okay, it didn’t hurt.” You assured.

A beat passed with Yuji glowering at your lips swollen with passion. He licked off the bloody residue from his own mouth, whispering. “I have to go.”

“What? It’s okay, Yuji, I promise.” Your assurance didn’t reach him and before you could speak again, Yuji had lifted himself from your body and left. You called to him again, only to hear the shutting of your front door.

Yuji was never one to go crazy over blood, sure he might like his meat raw, and there was that one time with the roadkill… but he never went stiff whenever you scraped a knee or got a paper cut. It was so out of character for him that your mind began to wonder if you had done something to turn him off.

You’d called Yuji not long after his quick disappearance, only to be left with his voice message, telling you ‘Sorry I wasn’t able to answer your call! Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.’ In his usual cheerful tone. Your messages to him were left on read, too.

Yuji was the type to respond to you within minutes and call you just about every day. To go from foreplay to feeling like you were single dizzied your sense of reality. Did you touch him wrong? Kiss him wrong? Say something you shouldn’t have?

Days passed with nothing but silence.

The thoughts rammed your mind until you could no longer take it, deciding to see Yuji and confront him about his odd behaviour.

You were no stranger to visiting Yuji after he’d been brought into the vampire community, having met his classmates and even a long lost older brother. His living space had certainly doubled in size, now he stayed in a large mansion rather than his late grandfather’s home. Having vampire heritage usually came with a large sum of money and Yuji was no exception to that.

You slipped inside his home, meekly calling your boyfriend’s name. Your voice bounced off the dimly lit walls and faded.

Behind you loomed Choso, tall and dark. “What are you doing here?” His voice broke fear into your spine, and you turned, unable to keep your back to him.

“I—I came to see Yuji.” You stood tall, sure of yourself.

A frown scrunched his beautiful pale face. “He hasn’t wanted to see you.”

“I know, that’s— that’s why I came to visit him.” You willed your heart to be still, however each time Choso’s dark maroon eyes swept over your smaller, weaker body fear and panic jumped you.

He smiled and you caught a glimpse of his shining white teeth. “You’re Yuji’s young friend, from childhood, yes?”

“Yes, sir.” Sir? Despite his ancient aura demanding some kind of formality, sir hardly seemed to fit.

He chuckled, kind and hearty. Were all vampires so utterly handsome? It must’ve been part of their design, faces and voices so alluring humans couldn’t help but become victims. Despite being aware of this possibility, your heart still fluttered for him.

“Please— tell me what’s wrong with him.”

The handsome smile faded. “Yuji and I aren’t like most vampires.” His eyes clouded, lifting from your body and catching sight of the stairs leading up to Yuji’s room. “We were born from the union of human and vampire, whilst most are born human and are turned by a vampire late in life.”

“Half vampire, right?” You weren’t completely unaware of vampiric history, despite Twilight being the majority of your informer, it was based in some truth.

Choso’s eyes gleamed and he nodded. “Yes.” His impressions of you seemed to shift, because his eyes held an amused interest. “The vampiric genes lay dormant in us until we come of age. Do you know the changes Yuji is currently experiencing?”

Sweat cooled to ice on your back pulling a swift shiver from you. You shook your head.

“Human food becomes mush, no longer satisfying the curdling hunger that rages for something more. Your lust, your passion, your anger all doubles in intensity.”

You let loose a small whimper at the thought of Yuji experiencing all this alone his room, going through changes you couldn’t hope to fathom the feeling of. Choso’s nose flared and his mind seemed to be pulled from the memory of his own transformation.

“I’m frightening you, I’m sorry.” He murmured.

“No, it’s okay. Please tell me, what did you do to deal with… everything?”

“Hid myself for over a year.”

Your heart sank. A year? Yuji and you had hardly been seperate from one another for longer than a few days. How would he, much less you, survive a year without the other?

“However it’s much too early to know how Yuji might react, he’s a strong boy.” Choso leaned to soothe your visibly stressed figure, a featherlight hand reaching your shoulder in comfort.

A shattering bang echoed down the winding stairs, sharply drawing both your and Choso’s attention.

“You should leave.” Despite the words being laced with kind formality, his face held a fierce expression.

“Okay.” Your body hardly allowed you to hesitate, finally giving into the flight response and leaving the gloomy house. Once free from the gates, you exhaled an uncomfortable sigh that freed your lungs of a breath you felt you were holding in the entire time.

But despite your quick departure, you hadn’t stayed away for long, deciding you needed to see Yuji as soon as possible.

So, you had returned the next day. Waiting for Choso to leave before entering the Itadori home. The blackness of night made it hard for you to navigate your away around the interior, although you had managed to stumble your way to the winding stairs and reached the second floor, leading you to Yuji’s room.

No noise. You couldn’t hear anything. You pressed your ear into the door and hoped to hear some indication of his presence. Still nothing. Your hand gripped the door knob, and before you could twist Yuji’s muffled voice met you.

“Don’t come in!” His tone was stiff, almost choked.

His command ripped your hand away from the door knob. “Yuji? You’re in there?” Misplaced excitement bloated your chest.

“Why are you here? Didn’t Choso explain everything to you?” He was clearly worried, but you couldn’t understand why.

“He did, I— I just wanted to see you.”

Silence permeated the air, but you heard floorboards creak under Yuji’s feet as he stepped closer to the door you stood behind.

“I miss you, Yuji, I miss you a lot.” You continued.

“I—” The words thickened his throat like garlic. “I miss you too.”

The sound of pointed nails, scraping desperately against wood in long rakes echoed from behind the door. It made you shiver.

“Do you?”

“Yes.” So much need seeping from his words, desperate for you to understand the level of which he yearned for you in your absence. “I miss your smile, your smell, I miss your heartbeat. God I miss hearing your blood flow.”

“Yuji—”

“Yesterday, when you visited. I could smell you, sense your heartbeat,” A deep exhale, and the scraping stoped. “Made my mouth water.”

“I—” You’d got him discussing his passion towards you, now unable to get a word in.

“Then when you talked to Choso— he made you nervous, didn’t he? I could smell it. Almost tore him apart when you left.”

The words, however deranged, made your back ache to be cradled by him. “Yuji, let me come in.”

Weak willed, he thought to himself. “Okay.”

Despite his voice seeming so close, when you opened the door, Yuji kept to the other side of the room, crouching on the edge of his bed.

You approached him, feeling as though you were encroaching on a caged tiger. The warning sensation that he could strike at any moment was one you shoved away. You halted a foot away from the bed.

Yuji’s hand kept over his mouth and nose, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his eyes glazed over you. “Are you okay?” You asked.

He nodded, strained. “You look good.” He murmured into his palm. “So good.”

“Good enough to eat?” You joked. Yuji’s eyes widened and he desperately grasped at the red hoodie covering his steaming body. You cringed, bad timing. “Sorry.” you took a seat at the end of the bed.

The weight of you shifting the mattress only seemed to make Yuji tense up further, eyes laser focused on where your butt and thigh connected with the bed.

“How are you feeling? Sick?” You asked.

“—Hungry.” The answer left him too swiftly.

“Right, Choso said you would be.” You gazed up at the ceiling. What could you do to help him? You felt useless, unable to even be near your boyfriend without him clamping up.

“I’m sorry— for leaving. The other day.” He huffed out.

“No, it’s okay, you don’t have to apologise. I understand now. I wish you would’ve told me, though. I thought I did something wrong.” You admitted.

“No, it was me.” He shifted closer to you. “I got too excited, then I bit you.”

“I didn’t mind.” You shrugged, averting your eyes. “I liked it.”

Yuji’s grunted against his hand. His gums itched to stab his growing fangs into your warm flesh at your sultry words. “You did?” He drawled, affected like a drug.

“Yes.” You’d surely come to regret the next words that left you. “Can you do it again?”

His reserve to keep himself from you utterly disappeared whilst his desire to leave you pale with nasty bites all over your skin overtook him. Yuji crawled to you, pulling you further onto his bed and trapping you beneath his weight.

His cock was already hard at the pheromones you’d been oozing into his room, you could feel it pressing into your thigh the moment he moved between your legs.

Already his lips moved to yours, overtaking you with a passionate intensity. He licked over his previous bite mark, tasting the metallic healing before lightly pressing his canines into you again. Even a little prick from his sharp fangs was enough to fill your kiss with drops of blood.

Hungrier now, Yuji licked and sucked at your bottom lip. Without truely realising it, he began to grind his hard dick into you, rubbing himself into your thigh, then crotch. You gasped as he made contact, that sound being devoured by Yuji the moment it escaped your mouth.

Before your wound could close up, Yuji nipped you again, slurping up the heavenly blood your swollen lip had to offer. Furiously, Yuji humped your core, utterly driven by his own hunger and desire.

You forced your head away, Yuji attempted to chase your honey-blooded lips, until you gasped for air. His hazy eyes snapped from his bloodlust for a mere second to check your gasping form, when he saw your lips swollen with passion, raw and slicked with his saliva and your plum pink cheeks, he dived into your body again, unable to keep himself away.

“Y-Yuji— Yuji.” You called to him, unable to reach past the frenzied desire clouding his mind. In sweet recognition, he kissed your cheek, bringing you a moment of heartfelt clarity before he bit you.

Yuji slipped down your neck and made out with your pulse, licking along the line which pumped your blood and sucking the skin. His hot, thick hands grab your sides, keeping your squirming hips still as he fucked you dry.

“Wan’ more. Let me drain you baby, please, I need more. So hungry, so so hungry for you.” He spoke through riddled huffs of your hair, nosing your nape like a pet.

“Yuji—”

“Wan’ you to be my first, for everythin’.” He continued. You couldn’t help but fall into him further, letting up to help solve his desperate hunger.

“Just a little—not too much!” You added, hand clamping against his shoulder.

He hissed into the bare of your neck, munching the supple skin until your blood pooled into his mouth.

White flashed over your eyes and you yelped, pushing against him. The struggled only made him latch onto your more, moaning loudly whilst his hips jutted into you.

The speed which Yuji sucked and dry-fucked you was dizzying, the lightheadedness making it hard for you to push him away. “Enough, Yuji, stop— ahh.”

His fangs left your freshly penetrated skin, tongue licking over the oozing remnant.

“Feel dizzy, Yuji.” You slurred, having no response from him.

“No, no, not done yet. Please. I want more.” With painful regret, he left your seeping neck and eyed you.

“Yuji...” You whined.

“I’ll make you cum, yeah? Can I? Make you feel good.”

Faintly, you nodded. He kissed his way down your body, pulling off the articles of clothing as he did. First your shirt, then your bottoms. He huffed your underwear, taking a long drag of the moist fabric. “Yuji!” You gaped, squirming.

In retaliation, he forced down your hips, his impossible strength burying you still into the mattress. Again he scented you, before tearing at your underwear with just his teeth.

He barely looked over your cunt, instead mapping you out with his tongue. The first lap sliding around your cunt was merely for his own curiosity, licking over your curves and bumps, circling your weepy hole. The puffs of his hot breaths lulled you back into a flushed realisation, the woozy lightheadedness fading.

Despite Yuji being drugged on the high of your sex, he was aware enough to focus on your clit, spelling shapes into the nub with his tongue before licking up the slick you weeped from the pleasure and repeating the cycle.

You reached for him, threading one hand through his short pink spikes whilst the other grabbed at the hand locked to your hip.

The new sensation rocked your body, his wet, warm tongue slurping and squelching around your cunt as he ate you out.

You cursed loudly, a premature orgasm rippling over your body until you went limp under him. Yuji dragged his fangs over your twitching clit, coming dangerously close to biting you.

Still vibrant with your orgasm, you sat up, bringing his chin to you and kissing him.

His hands left your sides, and you didn’t need to glance at the red marks of his handprint to know that it’d bruise tomorrow.

“Was that good?” He asked, you nodded desperately and he groaned to know he brought you pleasure.

“You too.” You added, words unable to form correctly. “Wan’ you to feel good.” You opened your legs to him, and he moaned at your offering.

“Fuck.” He hissed, shoving off his pants and shirt sporadically. His boxers followed in suit, slower, suggesting that Yuji was somewhat shy to reveal himself to you for the first time.

You were just as bashful, looking up to the ceiling to avoid the sight. Your eyes only returned to him when his tip pressed into your cunt.

“Wanted to feel this f’ so long…” He drawled, sliding his hard dick up and down your wet pussy.

“Just b—be gentle, Yuji.” You uttered.

“I’ll try.” You could hear the disbelief in his voice, neither your nor him knew he would be able to hold himself back from fucking you desperately.

His squishy head slipped into the first ring of your chasm, moulding to the tightness of your cunt. The initial feeling made him buck his hips spastically, freeing a choked moan from his throat.

“Oh fuck, fuck.” He cursed, pushing himself halfway in before halting to pace himself. “You feel so good, so so good, fuck I’m gonna cum.”

He rested his hands around your bruising sides, his chest rising and falling with an intense rhythm. Although Yuji’s orgasm approached far too quickly, he pulled your hips onto him, his arms lifting your weight like you were a plastic doll.

Your hips connected with a tight smack!

You whined and Yuji gasped your name. His cock twitched inside you, aching to release against your gummy insides.

“Oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck.” Immediately his hips smashed into you, once, twice before you felt Yuji’s hot seed slash your insides. “Let me turn you, fuck—” He choked through the grunt of his orgasm.

“What??” He didn’t stop. Continually and erratically humping your gushy insides.

“I wanna fuck you forever, please, let me turn you.”

“Yuji—”

“You’ll be mine forever,” the mere thought hardened his sensitive dick painfully. “Forever.” He hissed.

“T-Think about what you’re saying, Yuji! That’s s-serious— nhg—” You pushed against his chest, trying to escape the intensity of his thrusts.

“Don’t try and leave.” His claws tore through the flesh of your sides. He kept you down, buried in the layers of blankets and plush. Deeper now, his cock reached the furthest part of your insides.

“D—Do you even know how?” You gaped, throwing your head back and moaning the moment his cock head massaged the spongey nerve bundle inside you.

“I’ll learn.” He seemed to take the show of your neck as an invitation, because he began lapping up the half dry blood his puncture wounds left.

“Nnno Yuji, I can’t think— fuck.”

“Don’t think, okay? Just say my name.”

As if the command cleared your mind, you did just that, voice cracking halfway the mewl of his name as Yuji’s teeth reopened the two holes in your neck. This time, the sharp stab hit you harder sending a jolt of pain through your body, clamping up your muscles.

The moment your blood waved over his tastebuds was the same your pussy tightened in reaction to the pain, at both sensations a thick drop of precum seeped into frothy mess inside you. His moan reverberated into the raw skin of your neck and you responded with a weak grunt of your own.

His humps into your cunt loosened, his aim becoming unfocused as he lost himself in your essence. Your impossibly ambrosial blood satisfied the hunger and desire he hadn’t known had been hanging over him since childhood.

Nothing could be more euphoric than fucking you whilst feasting on your neck.

“Yu…” your ears rang out, heart pumping escaping blood into Yuji’s mouth.

White steadily overtook your vision and everything but the sensation of Yuji’s hot cock working against your sensitive, gummy walls faded.

Your white-hot orgasm brought you back, jolting your body like a lifesaving shock of electricity that had your back contorting. It seared your empty veins with unfaltering love for Yuji. You’d let him turn you, you’d let him do anything to you. Your quick jolt ripped Yuji’s teeth from you, allowing his mouth free rein to moan your name as his own orgasm came quickly.

Your inside sucked Yuji in, desperately pleading for more of his seed. A slave to your cunt, Yuji came again, adding another clump of white, warm cum inside your pink chasm. Another few spurts of feral thrusts was all Yuji had in him.

You gasped at the air, feeling the weight of Yuji lift from you and fall into the space beside you.

His nails loosened from your raw hips, replaced with a kind hold of his thick hands. He pulled you in, cradling your pale cold body against his hot, sweaty skin like you were his favourite stuffed toy.

It had taken a mere minute after Yuji cleaned your remnant from inside his mouth before clarity hit and he shot up. “Oh fuck! Are you okay? Shit, I went too far.”

Glorious afterglow welled your fuzzy brain. “M’ okay..” You uttered, fluttering eyes and pale face telling him otherwise.

“Okay. Fuck. I’ll uh— get a cookie, for you, and a juice box.” He was gone for less than a minute, but within that time you fell into unconsciousness and came to wearing one of his shirts and having been noticeably cleaned up. Yuji cradled your head, prompting you to drink from a straw.

He’d reached clarity after being severely fucked out of his feral state. To you, he even looked calmer, eyes a cool brown and canines retraced. The sweet juice lifted the pallor from your body, and the slightest bit of colour flushed your cheeks. Yuji brightened at the sight.

“Do you feel better? I’m so sorry.” He apologised quickly.

“I’m okay, I’m fine.” You sighed, utterly fatigued. “Holy fuck that so intense.”

Like a praised puppy, Yuji beamed. “Was it good?”

“Yes— yeah. I’ve never… cum that hard before.” You admitted. Yuji’s invisible tail only wagged harder.

Internally, he fist pumped. “Yeah, me neither.” He stated, sliding into the bed beside you.

A comfortable pause enclosed the two of you, until your mind lingered on the words he declared while high on your blood and insides.

“You were lying before.” You stated, despite it really being a question.

“What’d I say?” He asked.

“You wanted to turn me, into a vampire.”

“Shiiiit.” He rubbed his shoulder, awkwardly nodding. “I did— do. I do, actually.” His brown eyes slid to you, gauging the expression on your face. “I’ve thought about it a lot. I don’t want to live forever unless I’m with you.”

“Sounds like a marriage proposal.” You huffed.

“It does, I guess. We wouldn’t have to get married right away, we’d have forever to figure that out.”

“You’re serious?” You shifted, turning to look him head-on.

“Yeah.” Yuji nodded, like he’d just proposed a casual date.

“I’ll…” An abundance of questions overflowed your mind. Was turning into a vampire painful? How would he even do it? Would you live with him? Would you have to kill to eat?

Most of all; did you want to live forever? With Yuji?

“I’ll think about it.” You finished.

Warmly, Yuji embraced you, pulling you into his chest and blanketing you with his thick arms. “No pressure, yeah? I love you, vampire or not.”

“I love you too, my sexy vampire boyfriend.” You mused. Yuji dug his face between your neck and shoulder, planting kisses over your mark painted skin.

“I think that nickname is pretty well suited now.”

Part two? 😏

[just-shairahhh]

Wings and Venom

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw fem!reader.

Part: One of (Undecided Yet).

Part Two | Part Three |

Summary: When Theodore Nott, a brooding Slytherin bound by his family’s dark legacy, and a fiercely determined Ravenclaw collide as Potions partners, sparks fly. What begins as sharp-tongued rivalries and cold glares slowly unravels into a connection neither of them expected. As secrets, prejudices, and insecurities surface, they must decide whether to let their differences define them or risk everything for a bond that could rewrite their stories forever.

A/N: Hi, everyone! I really hope you enjoy this story. This series contains themes of emotional repression, societal pressures, and the consequences of prejudice. Both characters are grappling with identity and self-worth. If you have any special requests you'd like for me to include in the storyline, let me know. And, I'd love to hear your views on this part.

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"If you’re so confident in your abilities, why don’t you take over completely?” Theodore snapped, his usual calm replaced with a simmering irritation.

For a second, you were taken aback. After all, you were just trying to help. But the surprise on your face was fleeting, replaced by a sharper undertone. “Maybe I should. We are, after all, being graded as partners. If you mess this up, it’s going to reflect on me.”

Theodore’s jaw tightened, his voice dropping a degree colder. “I’m not going to mess it up.”

“Really? Because your potion looks more like murky pond water than something worthy of Snape’s approval,” you retorted, your tone cutting.

Theodore’s temper flared. “You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered, “some of us don’t have to rely on everyone else for everything. Some of us actually know what we’re doing.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. You've never had to rely on anyone for anything. You're one of the top students in your year, and you take immense pride in your hard-earned success. “What’s that supposed to mean? And what exactly would you know, then? Clearly, following instructions isn’t one of your strengths.”

Theodore’s voice dropped lower, his words coming out sharper than he intended. “You wouldn’t even know how to brew a proper potion if you weren’t holding someone else’s hand. Mudbloods like you don’t belong here.”

The words were out before he could stop them, and the instant they left his mouth, Theodore immediately regretted them. His gaze snapped to your face, and he saw the flash of anger —something far sharper than he'd expected. You two had always clashed, sure, but it had never escalated like this. It had never felt this personal. Maybe it was the letter from his father that he got this morning, burning a hole in his pocket, feeding that simmering frustration inside him. But even then, there was no excuse for what he'd just said. He didn’t even believe in the Mudblood and Pureblood nonsense, despite his family’s obsession with bloodlines and their obsession with the old ways.

Your hands clenched on your cauldron, lips pulling into a tight line. “You really think that matters?” you chuckle, your voice cold and tight. There's no humour in them. “That your blood status is somehow better than mine?”

Theodore opened his mouth, to apologize, to explain that he hadn’t meant it—but you were already a step ahead. Sure, you and Theodore had clashed since the very first day you were paired for Potions, but this was different. This—this stung. You hadn’t realized just how deep the poison of old bloodlines ran within him. This idea, this poisonous belief, had nearly obliterated your existence from the very first year, before you could even fight for it. You’d fought tooth and nail to carve your place, to prove your worth—and no privileged, entitled prat was going to strip that away. Not now. Not ever.

“Must be nice to have your precious little pureblood status to fall back on, isn’t it?” Your voice cut through him like a dagger. “But maybe you should worry more about whether your daddy's name will protect you when people start asking questions you can’t answer.”

The insult hit him harder than he expected. His father. Theodore had lived in that shadow for years—had been consumed by it—and yet he couldn’t escape it. The weight of the name was suffocating. Every step he took felt like it was tied to his father’s reputation, pulling him further into the depths of expectations he never asked for.

And immediately his mind drifted back to the letter. That morning, a letter had arrived, sealed with his father’s unmistakable crest, a reminder of everything he could never escape. The letter sat heavy in his bag, unopened, as it always was, but its presence alone burned through him. A letter meant to remind him of his place, his bloodline, the legacy that was already set out for him. And now, here he was, echoing the same disdain he’d heard for years.

But this time, it was different. The words he had spat at you lingered, an unforgiving reminder of the man he was trying—and failing—to avoid becoming. What was he doing? Theodore’s mind raced, a blur of confusion and regret. Who did he want to be? The man he had been taught to become—driven by family, tradition, and bloodlines—or the man he feared becoming—the man who followed those ideals blindly, without question, without thought of the consequences?

The world felt like it was choking him again, and for a moment, all he could do was stand there, paralyzed by the sting of your words. The weight of it all pressed down on him—his father’s shadow, his family's expectations, and now, the sudden realization that he had pushed you away. The worst part was that with those words, he had seen the respect you once had for him—his intellect, his hard work, his quiet dedication—fade away. It was replaced by the same look everyone else gave him. The look of someone privileged, spoiled, entitled.

And he didn’t know why it bothered him so much. Why it cut deeper than anything else. But it did. It hurt in a way he couldn't explain, a way he didn’t know how to handle. Maybe it was because, for the first time, you saw him exactly as everyone else did. And that scared him more than anything.

But he wasn’t going to let you see how much it hurt. Without a word, Theodore turned and walked away, his footsteps loud and defiant. He didn’t look back.

.

.

.

That day, you entered your room, slamming the door behind you, the weight of the moment crashing down in a final, thunderous sound. Your bag hit the floor with a dull thud as you sank onto your bed, your thoughts spiraling back to your first year. Back when Draco would make cruel remarks about your non-magical roots, and every word felt like a dagger. It had taken you time—so much time—to accept who you were. The proud daughter of two hardworking, brilliant, loving parents who had raised you with love and strength. And you’d never let anyone—anyone—make you feel ashamed of that again.

Your intellect, your kindness, had always been the things that carried you forward, the things that earned you respect in places where golden blood could never flow. A respect that comes not from your lineage, but from your knowledge. And yet, Theodore’s dismissal of it today stung in a way you hadn’t expected. You couldn’t for the life of you understand why it hurt so much. It was as if he had shattered something delicate—something you had worked so hard to build.

“Hey,” a voice pulled you from your spiraling thoughts. You hadn’t even noticed the door crack open.

Elena, your best friend, stepped into the room with a sympathetic expression, her blonde curls bouncing slightly with each movement. “Bad day?” she asked, already dropping her bag by her desk and crashing next to you on your bed, like the two of you had done, for years.

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you flopped back next to her, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t know why I let him get to me,” you muttered. “It’s like everything I’ve worked for, all the things I’ve fought to stand by… he just dismissed them like they were nothing.”

Elena raised an eyebrow. She was mad at Nott herself for treating you the way he did in class. “Still thinking about Nott?" She asked, her lips pressed in a thin line.

You winced at the mention of his name. Theodore and you were never friends, but after being partnered up, it's like the last few weeks had been a rollercoaster of awkward glances, clipped conversations, and sudden, uncomfortable silences whenever the two of you were together. There had been moments when you thought things might’ve changed, but the tension was always there, just beneath the surface.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I don’t even know why it matters. He’s just one person. But he—he just has this way of making everything feel… wrong.”

“Well, I mean, that’s Theodore Nott for you,” Elena said with a mischievous grin, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced toward the door. “The broody, annoyingly good-looking Slytherin with a chip on his shoulder.”

You shot her a look, but Elena just shrugged, her expression turning playful. “What? He’s got that whole ‘mysterious bad boy’ thing going on. I’m just saying, it’s hard not to notice. And even harder not to fall for.”

You rolled your eyes, but the teasing tone in her voice made your cheeks warm. “You’ve got a weird taste in guys.”

Elena laughed, unfazed. “I’m not saying I’m interested. But let’s be real here, Theodore Nott is NOT a "weird taste in guys". He's like....” Elene finishes her sentence with a deep sigh, pretending to swoon over that one guy, most girls in your year had tried getting with.

You smiled, despite yourself. “Yeah, well, I used to think he was just some grumpy guy who didn’t care about anything. But there’s something different now. It’s like... he’s always watching. Waiting for me to mess up or something.”

Elena gave you a knowing look and straightens up. “It’s because he’s an absolute idiot, and you’re way too brilliant for him. He probably doesn’t know how to deal with someone who doesn’t fit into his little Slytherin world. But, if you ask me, I think he’s a bit jealous. You’ve got this whole ‘I-don’t-care-what-you-think’ vibe that he could never pull off, and it probably bugs him.”

You shot her a half-smile. “Yes, because it's so hard for Theodore to pull off that vibe. Please. His entire personality says "I don't give a shit" or "I'm too cool for school". Except he is smart as a whip."

"And that bothers you? I don't even know how the two of you got into this academic competition thing anyway." Elena asks with a huff.

You chuckled, shaking your head at the memory. “You know, it actually started in first year. I remember it so clearly.”

Elena raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” you said, rolling your eyes fondly. “We were in the library—no surprise there—and I was working on a potion assignment. I had it all figured out, but then I heard this voice. ‘You’re not supposed to add the powdered moonstone before the powdered dragon liver.’ And I looked up to see Theodore, sitting across from me, looking at me with a straight face. Except, his face was flushed. I'm guessing from all that ego boost he was getting from this." You scoffed again.

Elena leaned forward, grinning. “Let me guess, you argued?”

“Of course I did,” you said with a smile. “But then I double-checked, and he was right. He’s insufferable about it.”

"And that was the start." Elena finsihes.

"Yeah" You continue. "Potions and weirdly, Charms was always his thing. DADA and Care of Magical Creatures was mine."

"And both of you are collectively bad at Divination" Elena supplies.

"Hey! We just don't believe in the concept." You defend.

"Riiiight" she drawls playfully.

Elena and you spend the night gossiping about your previous school years. You were so grateful for her. She always had her way of making you feel better about things and distracting you from what hurts you, when you need it.

.

.

.

The next morning, Theodore enters the Potions classroom and immediately notices that you’re not sitting at your usual desk beside him. Just then he heard a melodious laughter, from the back of the room. His eyes snapped to it immediately, as if his body had its own reaction to that laughter he had now gotten used to and somewhere, started to love. And there you are, sitting with another Ravenclaw, whatever-his-name-was, who was whispering something that made you laugh. You’re laughing—something that, only yesterday, he could have made happen with just a quiet remark, a sarcastic comment. The sight twists something inside him, a pang sharper than he expected.

He freezes for a moment, caught off guard by the unfamiliar weight in his chest. Why did it bother him so much? It wasn’t like you were friends. If anything, the two of you had always been at odds, sniping at each other over Potions techniques or study strategies. You were supposed to be rivals—partners by necessity, not choice. So why did seeing you so deliberately avoid him feel like… loss?

He’d spent most of the night replaying his words, hating himself for how easily they’d slipped out. A part of him had thought he’d come in today and—well, not apologize, exactly, but something. Fix it, maybe. Yet now, watching you sit so far away, the distance between you felt bigger than just a few feet. And for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why that mattered so damn much. So, in that moment, he did the only thing he could—he kept stealing glances at you. There wasn’t a single trace of yesterday’s storm etched onto your face. It was as if it had never happened. And yet, the ease with which you seemed to have erased it from your mind gnawed at him. He didn't want you to hold onto whatever he had let slip in a moment of weakness, he had spent most of last night trying to erase the memory of your hurt expressions. The fleeting vulnerability that passed through your face in that moment, stabbed at his heart more times than he could have counted. Yet, he didn’t understand—couldn’t understand—why this indifference bothered him so much.

What he doesn’t realize is that you’ve been watching him, too. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him hesitate, his posture tense, his movements less precise than usual. His uniform is rumpled, his tie hanging loose and slightly crooked, a stark contrast to his usual meticulous appearance. His dark circles are more pronounced today, as though he didn’t sleep at all last night, and his hair, usually tousled in a way that feels deliberate, looks like he’s run his hands through it one too many times.

Your frown deepens as you catch the way his jaw clenches and unclenches—a habit you’ve noticed he falls into when he’s agitated. He looks… off. Tired. Worn down.

You try to shake the worry off. He doesn’t deserve your concern, not after yesterday. Still, it’s there, lingering at the back of your mind like a whisper you can’t ignore. You tell yourself you’re just being observant—it’s what you do, after all. But deep down, a part of you wonders why he looks like the weight of the world is pressing on his shoulders. And why you care at all.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you turn towards Nathan and try to focus again on whatever he was saying, his voice a low hum against the storm of thoughts in your head. You nod absently, trying to piece together a response, but the weight of the tension in the room—of him—is impossible to ignore.

Nathan says something that might have been a joke, and you force yourself to muster up a smile, hoping it looks convincing. You don’t want him to notice your mind is elsewhere, but it is. Despite your best efforts, your thoughts keep drifting back to Theodore: his rumpled uniform, the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders seemed to sag just a little more today.

You shift in your seat, gripping your quill tighter than necessary, willing yourself to stay present. Whatever this is—this inexplicable worry that keeps pulling at you—it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. But no matter how hard you try to push it away, the image of him, sitting there in silence, keeps creeping back into your mind.

The bell rings, pulling you out of your thoughts, to signal the end of the lesson, and Theodore watches as you gather your things quickly, almost too quickly, like you're trying to avoid anything that might make your paths cross. You don’t even glance in his direction. It’s like he’s invisible, like all the moments, the words, the discussions you’ve shared have been wiped away in an instant.

But as you reach the door, something unexpected happens. You pause, just for a fraction of a second, your hand gripping the frame as though you’re hesitating. Theodore catches the movement, his heart leaping despite himself. He doesn’t know what he’s hoping for—an accusation, an apology, a glance, anything—but then you step out without looking back, leaving him sitting there, alone with his thoughts.

He stares at the empty doorway, jaw tightening as the silence in the classroom swallows him whole. And then, as if on instinct, his fingers brush against the letter in his pocket—the one from his father, the one he hasn’t stopped thinking about since yesterday. His gaze flicks to the spot where you’d been sitting.

“Tomorrow,” he mutters under his breath, so low even he barely hears it. “I’ll fix this tomorrow.”

.

.

.

[sare-nim]

I realized I haven't posted often-

So this is a apology cake thats a one-shot hope you can enjoy it.

THE FIRST LIE

Light Milk Cookie walked through the garden of his academy. The bushes perfectly cut the flowers bloom beautifully the sun casting its light over the beautiful garden making the scene more majestic.

He can't help but smile softly as he looked at the scene. The only thing that brought him peace is this garden, his exhaustion slowly leaving his mind. This garden is one he treasures quite a lot. The peace is broken by the sound of footsteps coming behind him causing the blue colored cookie to turn around and his mismatched eyes took the sight of you.

You wore your normal outfit that's ironed so it would look perfect. Your hair is like silk shining under the sun light. His eyes admire you while you ran up to him only to wrap your arms around him in a hug.

A hug that spread a warm feeling through his dough into his soul jam. His eyes look down at your bit smaller form as he then shrunk his form so you could snuggle into his neck just how you like it. Wrapping his arms around your body holding you close. He can only hope he can make you feel the same warmth he feels from your hug.

You kiss his neck giggling softly as you look up through your long eyelashes watching his expression change into a slight flustered one. His cheeks having turn a beautiful shade of a deeper blue that had too corrupted his ears. He presses a kiss on the crown of your head now making you blush while smiling brightly in response.

He held your body that's leaking jam his hands trembling his eyes wide shining with unshed tears. Your eyes that shone so brightly loosing life ever so slightly while your legs tremble unable to support you for longer. The arrow that was ment to pierce through his body instead was piercing yours. His whole being frozen in pure shock and terror the world has stopped for him.

“Forgive me Light Milk Cookie…for not being able to live alongside you-”

A cough interrupted your speech deep red jam rolls out of your mouth down your chin until it soaks into your clothes but you continued talking not putting much thought into the jam. Light Milk cookie snapped out of his frozen state. He tighten his grip onto you. Your legs gave up on you causing him to fall onto his knees. He looked at your wound the arrow still in you he uses his fingers to press around the arrow to hopefully stop the bleeding but he should have realized sooner it was stupid as the arror had pieces through you stomach the sharp peak peaking out of your other side of your body.

“S-Stop! Your not dying no!...look at me just focuse on breathing-”

His words are cut off by your breathy words. Your eyes looking at him with love even if their light are dimming. You put all of your strength on your arm raising it to cup his cheek your thumb rubbing circles onto the dough of his cheek.

“I-I…love you…so live for me Light Milk Cookie…”

Light Milk Cookies breath caught onto his throat. The non shedding tears escape his eyes rolling down his cheeks he raises his hand to hold yours only for your hand to fall limb before he could. His hand froze mid air as his eyes took in the moment when your light of life truly left your body.

“Y/N?...Y/N cookie…Y/N cookie!..Y/n cookie!!”

His cry ecos through the empty forest while tears rolled down his face. He holds your body while he cried in agony

“Oh silly vanilly~! I shall give you the grand proposal of healing my true star!”

He happily chirps his voice filled with fake delight not giving time for truthless to respond before teleporting him into the most secured place in the tower of deceit.

He flew towards a bed that's covered in curtains that hid what's inside. Truthless let's out a annoyed huff his empty eyes looked at the beast with irritation.

“I won't participate on this game your playing-”

His words are cut off when he saw the being who was hidden by the curtains of the bed. On the large bed lays but a simple looking cookie with their eyes closed, their dough deprived of life but their body in perfect condition.

He approached the bed looking down at the cookie with slight confusion in his emotionless eyes the beast then spoke up.

“Aren't they so charming! I was able to keep their body frozen in time…”

Truthless wasn't listening to Shadow milk cookies words too focused on the body on the bed. He stretched his hand placing it on your hand that was cold he felt it…the void of life in you.

“They're dead.”

He informed sharply the beast who froze at those words. His words coming into a halt a silence followed them only for the beast to snap.

“Of course you would say that! Why did I think you would be a smart little cookie? They're not dead. I know they aren't!”

He said with his usual cheerful voice his act of happiness coming back. Truthless looked at him with unhidden disgust.

“Their dead…they should be buried-”

Truthless is cut off by Shadow milk who's face has earned a expression of pure anger.

“They are not DEAD!! You stupid cookies don't see it but they're alive! Just wounded.”

He responded with venom lacing his words. His hair floating in the air with an aura of anger using his powers to teleport truthless away from the room he treasured.

He huffed before flying close to you sitting on the bed edge stretched out his hand holding your cheek.

“They're all trying to lie to me. Can you believe it starlight?...you will wake up I know you will.”

Oh my-

Sorry, I should have said it was a poisoned cake.

[verus-veritas]

Not As Planned

"Hah! It worked! I'm in his body!" I shouted as I found myself standing up in my new hulking body. I flexed my huge arms and smelled my rank armpits, fully intent on worshipping them later tonight.

"Who knew the machine would work even without both of us being hooked up..." I thought to myself, clearly having underestimated his strength. He had broken free from his restraints, torn the helmet from himself and ran up through the house. That brute must've tried to get to his room for a baseball bat or something. Too bad for him the machine malfunctioned without a second person in its seat, and instead sent a pulse wave that knocked us both out.

"Definitely have to check the device out later and figure out what happened... but for now I have this raging beast in front of me that's dying for my touch!" I laughed with my deep voice as I gripped the hefty bouncing member in my hands. I knew I didn't have to worry about my former body as it would wake up with complete amnesia in a few hours, so I immediately set course for my new room. The room that once belonged to my high school bully.

I was halfway across the corridor when I heard some light grunting from the parent's bedroom. So I peeked in... and I couldn't believe my eyes - it was my bully's dad standing naked in front of the mirror and jerking that giant cock of his.

"Oh god, dad... I'm in your body... and I love it! Can't believe that one second we were walking through the front door with you shouting at me for being sent to the principal's office, and the next I'm waking up in the hallway in your sexy muscular body! Well, I guess now's a good time as any to tell you: I'm gay. I'm super gay and the reason I got expelled was because I got caught jerking off to the gym coach showering! But who needs a gym coach when you have body ten times hotter that's staring back at you through the mirror! Fuck! I hope I never have to go back! I'm Dad now!"

I watched on in awe as the incredibly handsome dad finally came all over the mirror and began licking up his own residue from it. He disappeared into the master's bathroom, where loud moaning was soon heard again.

"Shit. I hope the pulse didn't affect any other people outside of the house..." I thought, as I continued into my own musky bedroom. "Having to deal with my perverted lil' bro now stuck in his own dad's body sure is bothersome enough..."

[eccentricallygothic]

Patience

Pairing: Daddy!Ari Levinson | Brat Baby!You.

Description: Ari decides to actually act upon his literal threats of ‘teaching your ass a lesson’ this time around.

Warning(s): D/s dynamics, ddlg, power imbalance, meanie Daddy!Ari, bratty!you, allusions to spanking, size kink, strength kink, begging, humiliation, rimming, ass fingering, age gap (reader is 20’s and Ari is near 40’s), possessive!Ari, dirty talk, brat taming. Minors do not interact. 

Type: Request (anon), here.

Note: Unedited because it's 5am and I have class around 10am. Forgive me for any errors. Hope you like it <3

.

Your hot and pouty face was buried between your arms that were folded ‘petitely’ over your boyfriend's work table even though you were anything but. “Daddy, please!” You whined and tried to shift in his beastly hold only to fail yet again. “I already said I was sorry and I already got a spankie!” You kicked your foot and complained like you had any power against him. 

Ari's rough fingers only groped your stinging ass cheeks harder as he kept them spread apart for his experienced tongue to keep torturing your quivering pucker. “Nah, today is the day, baby. Buckle up” his words made you whine even louder than before and you puffed out your cheeks, your hips struggling to break free from his tyrannical grip. 

“But I already said I was sorry!” You were a sensitive little thing that was used to being spoiled and treated like you were the reason the sun rose everyday, not getting your way or being rough handled was not something you were particularly accustomed to. Especially not at the hands of the grizzly kneeling behind you. 

“As you have a million times before” Ari simply responded before the sharp tip of his tongue ran around your rim again before he probed the opening that was tightly wrinkled shut. As if the tiny stretches he was causing weren't uncomfortable and humiliating enough, the recent spanks on your ass made it even worse. You had no idea how, but the jerk had even managed to spank your poor little backdoor. He was lucky you loved him. “But today is the day punishment will actually teach you something, you little brat.” 

You huffed and shook your disapproval out through your body. “Daddy, you're being so mean!” Your eyebrows were furrowed but you dared not look behind and at him. You were not allowed to do so, as he had ordered you to look ahead when he had begun. “It's not my fault those little boys look at me! I only have eyes for you!” You heard his snicker of disbelief.

“Yeah, right–” your eyes widened when you felt him heatedly spit on your asshole, clearly further instigated by your words, before one of his fingers began to push against your virgin rim. 

“DADDY!” You panicked but Ari was unbothered. “Oh, no!” Your face burnt hot in humiliation but that didn't stop your pussy from tearing up. 

“Oh, yes” Ari's guttural voice was quiet as he leaned in to lick at one of the many fingerprints he had left on your ass cheeks, the digut he had inserted in you now knuckle deep. His thick beard tickled your sensitive skin where his tongue touched you. “Only have eyes for your old man, huh? Is that why you go bowling with your silly girlfriends in those cute little shorts, hm?” He gave you a good few jabs so you would feel his knuckle butt against your rim. “Tsk, like I don't know about those foolish little boys following you around like dumb little mutts.” Okay, maybe you did like the attention. 

“B- But that's not my fault, Dada! I only want you!” That was true. “You know it!” It was the reason why you liked to rile up Ari like this. Especially during periods when his stupid work took nearly all his time.

Ari began to pull his finger out and your ass humiliatingly squelched. He stopped when only the tip reached your rim. You whimpered as your pucker clenched in discomfort. “Too bad that is not going to stop me from breaking this–”

“Daddyyy!” You whined when his finger began to push into you once more.

“– bratty little ass in like I should have a long time ago” you shuddered when he added some tongue to the finger fucking. “Maybe you will finally learn some fuckin’ patience when you limp all over the place like a sorry little baby slut.”

Oh dear, oh dear.

You had a long evening to go.

And a lot of begging to do. 

.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 28] Sleepless Night

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

*So close to the end🥹 it's been a wild ride

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“I’m sleepy.” Satoru mutters before throwing himself on your bed. He does so without your permission, wearing his dirty clothes on your clean bed. Not to mention that he’s sweaty, after all, he’s helping you pack all of your stuff before helping you move to the house that he bought you.

“Yeah, go to the couch.” You tell him, and if you had enough strength to pick him up and throw him on the couch you would. But Satoru is too big for you to pick up and carry. He ignores you and you whine, “Satoru, you’re getting my bed dirty!”

“I won’t fit in Ren’s bed.” He responds, and you sigh. 

“Yeah, that’s why you’re sleeping on the couch after you take a shower.” You say, and he finally stands up. He walks to your shower, and practically slams the door behind him which makes you roll your eyes. He makes himself feel at home with no issue… Which you consider fair since his mother does own the place.

You won’t pay much attention to Satoru either way. It’s like he’s your boyfriend all over again, except you aren’t physical with each other. And you’re also not all too sure that you want to call Satoru your boyfriend ever again; you’d prefer to keep him as a friend, and of course, as the father of your son.

“Don’t use up all of my shampoo!” You yell, knowing that Satoru comes out extra fragrant when he showers in your bathroom. He uses all of your good products and doesn’t bother replacing the empty bottles.

You can only hope that he’s heard your words before you decide to change into your pajamas and lay down in your bed. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, you need as much rest as you can get. There’s a knock on your door as soon as you lay down on your bed, and you take a deep breath before answering, “Come in, Ren!”

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” The child asks as soon as he enters the room. You try to hold back a sigh, knowing that you won’t sleep as well with Ren constantly kicking you and moving around but you can’t bring yourself to say no to him.

“Come here, baby.” You pat the space next to you, and he comes running to lay down beside you. You tuck him in before wrapping your arm around him, bringing him closer to you. Maybe you’re partially at fault for all the kicking and moving since you hold him so close. “Don’t snore, okay?”

“I don’t snore!” He quickly yells, and you chuckle before kissing his cheek. He snuggles into you, and you nuzzle your nose into his hair.

“Hey, you ran out of body wash.” Satoru walks out of your bathroom, having enough common sense to have put on a robe. His eyes land on you and Ren as you cuddle, a smile coming to his lips. He walks out, looking for the clothes that he hides in your place for this occasion. 

“Save some space for me!” He yells when he’s into his pajamas, running to the bed to join you. He completely disregards that he was ordered to sleep on the couch. His giant arm wraps over the two of you, bringing you close to him.

“Didn’t I tell you to go to the couch?” You laugh, but you can’t bring yourself to kick him out. It’s comfortable like this. “Ren’s bed is empty too, you can try there.”

“Daddy won’t fit there.” Ren points out, and you almost want to scold him for saying it. Satoru agrees, and you chuckle, rolling your eyes.

“Fine, but you better not snore either.” You say, and Satoru has a mischievous look on his face. He’s about to say something that’s going to annoy you, but at least get a laugh out of Ren.

“Out of the three of us, you’re the only one that snores.” Satoru earns a slap on his ear for that joke. He’s slept with you many times, it’s certainly not a joke. “I was joking!”

“Yeah… Nobody laughed.” You respond, and he chuckles. Satoru is about to speak, but he gets the first word out and Ren shushes him.

“I’m trying to sleep!” Ren complains.

“Sorry, baby.” You kiss the top of his head, and you feel Ren throw his small arm over you. There’s a smile on your lips before you drift off to sleep.

You wake up in the middle of the night, nearly falling off the bed even though it’s large enough for three people. It’s no surprise to you that Ren takes up the entire bed, what surprises you is that Satoru isn’t in bed. You should leave it alone, reclaim your spot on the bed and go back to sleep. 

But you don’t leave it alone, you get up from the bed and search for him. You walk out of the room, and spot the kitchen light on. You take a deep breath before beginning to walk over to it. Satoru is making himself a cup of tea, which you can only assume is to help with sleeping.

“What’s up with you?” You startle him, his hand going over to his heart. Though the scare has gone away, it continues to beat fast.

“Can’t sleep.” He keeps the answer vague since he doubts you really want to hear what’s on his mind… Well perhaps he should tell you what’s on his mind. 

“Why is that?” You ask him. You would assume that he would sleep comfortably with Ren by his side, but something’s off with him. Perhaps it’s because you’re in the room as well. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“It’s not that. I’ve just been thinking about…” He begins, and he takes a deep breath before voicing his thoughts. “Everything I did to you.”

“Oh…” You’re taken back by the response. It was something that kept you up at night before, but you’ve grown to not care. You can’t undo Satoru’s actions, and you’re convinced that in the end you were better off than him– At least in some ways. Not monetarily for sure, but you had Ren with you. “What’s done is done, there’s no point in losing sleep over it.”

“I wish I did things differently.” He confesses, which is nice to hear. “I was an idiot, and I chose money over someone that I’ve loved all of my life. Even if Ren wasn’t involved, I should’ve chosen you.”

“Yeah… I was kind of used to it.” You chuckle, and it makes a frown appear on his face. It’s not a lie, he shouldn’t be shocked to hear those words leave your lips. “I’ve realized that you were young… Easy to manipulate especially after just losing your father. I’m not thrilled that you did what you did but don’t beat yourself up about it.”

He’s surprised with what you say, biting his lip as he thinks of what to say. Processing all of what you’ve said. It’s true, but he feels like he could’ve handled the situation better, sure, he was young but he wasn’t a child. He clears his throat before saying, “You aren’t wrong but… I could have handled things much differently.”

“You could have, but there’s nothing you can do about it now.” You respond. “You stepped up when you got the chance, which is what matters.”

“I’m still really sorry for everything.” He says, and you hum in response. “You’ve always been someone very dear to me, and I’ve always treated you as my secondary choice. You’re the most– Until Ren you were the most important person to me, and even then I’ve disregarded you as if you weren’t.”

“It hurts to be in my place, but I also understand, Satoru. I grew up with you, you’ve always been made to believe that money and power is everything, and every issue that you had was solved with money,” You take a deep breath before continuing. “I can’t blame you, but I’ve also been hurt by your decisions.”

“You’ve always been the mature one out of the two of us… Even when I’m an old man, I act like a child.” He chuckles, and you laugh as well before humming in agreement. 

“Even when you act like a child, you’re a great father to our son.” You point out, hoping that it’ll make him feel better. “Your parents loved you a lot but… They weren’t all that great.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” He responds. He’s smiling, hearing about how you view him as a father. He isn’t perfect, but he’s trying to be the best he can be for Ren. Disciplining him and not spoiling him too much (unless it’s a situation that calls for spoiling his son). 

“Would you consider having another?” He suddenly asks, and your eyes go wide. You stand in awkward silence for a moment before you begin to laugh.

“Why are you asking? Shouldn’t you be asking me if I would even consider going on a date with you again?” You reply and he feels as his cheeks turn pink. “I was just kicking you out of my bed and here you are, asking me if I’d have another child.”

“Would you consider going on a date with me?” He’s smiling. You have to look away because your feelings for him come back in a heartbeat. Satoru made his decision a long time ago, you shouldn’t. But he’s also changed so much recently, that you want to see where fate leads you.

He notes your silence. It’s late, and he doesn’t want to overwhelm you with that sort of question. He ends up saying, “You don’t have to answer that.”

“Yeah, I’m not answering that.” You respond. “How about we go to bed?”

“Okay… But would you consider going back to get your degree or do you not want to do that anymore?” He changes his question. “I’ll be supporting you all the time.”

“You know you sound just like your dad.” You point out, and he remembers that his dad did make a similar offer. “He offered to pay for my education but I dumbly turned him down. I sure regretted it when I found out I was pregnant and you weren’t picking up the phone.”

“Yeah, he told me.” He shares. “But I’m actually making up for it since I took away that opportunity from you.

“I’ll consider it. I’m not sure if that’s what I want to do anymore.” You tell him, and he gives you a subtle nod. “Is the offer still on the table if I want to just pursue degree after degree.”

“Knock yourself out, I have enough money for every degree– I’ll just be praying for you with all the assignments you have to complete.”

“Okay.” You have much to think about, and you know your ultimate decision. He yawns, the late night remedy working– Ultimately passing the sleepless night torch to you after his offer.

“Let’s go to bed, Ren is going to wake up in three hours and we can’t greet him all tired.” Satoru tells you, putting the cup of tea in your sink. You roll your eyes, knowing that you won’t be able to sleep because of him.

A great idea comes to your mind, fighting back a smirk as you both walk to the bedroom. Before going inside you tell him, “Ren with a baby sister would look cute. I just have to find the right candidate.”

“Huh?” He nearly drops to his knees with your last sentence. Did you seriously just say that in front of him? “I’m right here!”

“Shush! Ren is sleeping, don’t wake him up.” You scold him before entering the bedroom with a smirk on your face. He stays behind, dumbfounded with what you just said.