#meals can be something to bond over after all

[theangelsheardyou]

Everybody talks abt the bakugous adopting toga, now get ready for: the togas adopt bakugou

They adopt him when he's around 5 years old, after an accident with his Quirk awakening heavily injures his mother, putting her in a medically-induced coma. His father isn't capable of taking care of a child after that, and katsuki is sent into foster care. Part of him has given up on the idea that his dad would ever take him back, but the other part is clinging onto the hope that his mother would wake up and find him. Wherever he is.

The Toga's foster Katsuki for a few months initially, which turns into a full year. Himiko, about 6 years old, likes the idea of having a new little brother.

(I've heard theories before that Himiko already had some other unnamed siblings since she's described as "the oldest daughter of the family" but to keep things simple let's just say she was an only child up until this point.)

(Also, I don't know whether this is canon or not, but while Himiko is her first name, we aren't sure if Toga is her real last name. But again, to keep things simple, let's just say that it is.)

Katsuki was a tough nut to crack, or maybe he would be if his foster parents ever really tried. From what we see in Toga's backstory, I assume they're not really there for their kids emotionally. As long as they eat three meals a day and have a roof over their heads, they've done their jobs, or at least that's what they think.

Katsuki and Himiko are left alone a lot. Maybe their folks are always busy at work or just didn't spend much time with them. Either way, the two become closer as the only kids in the house.

Now, canon Katsuki would probably be really judgemental about Himiko's gorey interests, but in this AU, he has literally almost killed his mother. He's in no place to judge and he knows that. No matter what crazy infatuation this girl has, it's got nothing compared to what was practically a murder.

Katsuki's a little more closed off at this age, kind of like in the canon storyline, but at age 5-6. Having lost his parents, his friends, and being put in some stranger's home, he's not the type to really show off anymore. He's hard to get to know, but Himiko never stops trying.

Despite everything, a bond begins to bloom.

Katsuki and Himiko are inseparable. They do little kid things like Katsuki going "watch this!" Before doing something cool and making sure his sister gets to watch, and Himiko cheers him on like he's just done the most amazing thing in the world. And to her, it probably was.

This is where Katsuki's show-offiness begins to bloom again. He loves showing his sister all his achievements. A perfect score on a test, an award from the sports festival at school, no matter how big or small he shows it to his sister who always cheers him on and encourages him to keep going. He works hard to get better at school, does well in sports, all to get his sister's attention, which she gives generously. She loves watching her little brother succeed in everything. Everyday she's so, so proud of him for something new. She's proud to call him her brother.

Katsuki's personality rubs off on Himiko, too. She starts to get a little competitive, especially when the two play against each other. Be it badminton, tennis, or even just a game of tag, these two are unstoppable. And there's never a sore loser because one will always be proud of the other no matter what the scores are.

Himiko also rubs off on Katsuki, more than she'd like to admit.

I don't think canon katsuki was ever the type to be grossed out or queasy about gorey things. He'd probably find dead animals on the side of the road and call his sister so she could check it out too. As they get older, he brings along a camera, so he can take pictures of all the bloody details for her to examine later. By now Katsuki has been legally adopted, though there still isn't much of a bond between him and his new parents. They are proud of his achievements of course, but they prefer to show him off at parties like a showdog. He prefers Himiko's way of showing her pride in him way more. It feels more genuine.

Katsuki and Himiko aren't exactly delinquents, but they do get into trouble a lot. Katsuki has grown to be a little more violent due to Himiko's influence, enjoying seeing the blood burst from someone's face when it comes in contact with his fist. After he beats someone up, he likes to take a moment to examine his handiwork. A broken nose, a black eye, a tooth landing somewhere, he finds joy in it. He's definitely more of a bully in this AU, not out of anger, but out of pure bloodlust.

At this point he hasn't heard much from his dad, but he visits his mom at the hospital now and then. He gives her updates on his new life, tells her about Himiko, and all his achievements. Part of him doesn't really think she'll ever wake up again. But another still clings onto the hope.

Katsuki and Himiko are middleschool outcasts. Weirdos. Freaks. They don't have many friends, but they have each other, and that's what counts.

Katsuki is still very into heroes, but he let go of the idea of ever becoming one. The shame from his Quirk awakening has left him afraid to use his own Quirk for almost ten years now. It's Himiko that encourages him to use it, calling it a beautiful ability that should be shared. It takes a while, but by graduation, Katsuki is dead set on becoming a hero. Not for money or fame, but for his sister.

Katsuki has also been very supportive of Himiko's interests from the beginning. In fact, he encourages her to become a nurse. After middle school she starts studying medicine, and by the time Katsuki's at UA, guess who's Recovery Girl's cute little sidekick/apprentice.

Himiko gets a front-row seat to all of Katsuki's high school achievements. She cheers him on from the sidelines as he wins the UA Sports Festival, while also treating all the poor souls who fought against him. This is actually how she meets Ochaco. A real meet cute.

She gets angry at how the awards ceremony went, and even got Recovery Girl to use her status at the school to speak to the teachers on her behalf. She's still pretty ticked off by the time they get home, and tells Katsuki to throw the medal away, but he doesn't. He keeps it in his room. It's a symbol of the first time in his life that someone aside from his sister acknowledged his abilities, his Quirk, as a good thing. Aizawa's speech during his fight with Ochaco was proof. After that, he follows his teacher around like a lost puppy, and in turn Himiko does, too. Now he's got two little blonde kids tailing him, and he just gets used to it at some point.

Katsuki's personality is a lot less angry and more a...weird kind of friendly. He got like, half a cup of bimbo-ness from Himiko, as well as a couple of her more tame friendly influences. But he does sometimes get a little too close, and asks questions very bluntly, sometimes offending or making people uncomfortable. But considering 1-A is just a mosh pit of weirdo high school kids, they all get along just fine.

Katsuki and Izuku reunite at UA. It was actually Izuku who approached him. Having missed all the middle school bullying since Katsuki was in another school at the time, the same one Himiko went to, he's a lot more confident. The two have a grand reunion and become better than best friends. They, along with Himiko and Ochaco, hang out together a lot in and out of school. It gets to the point that Ochaco gets a little too happy when she gets injured, knowing she'll get a free pass to visit the cute nurse at the infirmary. Izuku gets to join Himiko on the front row to all of Katsuki's victories, which assigns him as Vice President of the Katsuki Fan Club instantly.

I have so many more ideas for them and I kinda wanna draw/write more about it, so tell me what you think! If this gets very little attention my shyness and short attention span will probably shift me to something else😅

[ambrosiagourmet]

"But Glitz what about the food dungeon meshi is about eating how does that-" the focus would still be on our fundamental needs but it would be more about the need for connection. The themes of wanting to know and be known are already there in the original story. Instead of being hungry, the Demon craves, above all else, to be understood. It doesn't eventually eat the dungeon lord, it subsumes them. It has a thousand years of souls mixed up in inside it's being now, and all of them make it bigger, more confusing, and lonelier.

Mithrun didn't lose his desires, but he isn't entirely sure if he's the same person he was before he connected with it. He's not sure how much of himself remains and how much is an amalgam of past dungeon lords, brought into himself while he was lost in the "drift" within the Demon.

[steveslevis]

can you see right through me?

azriel x mate!reader

summary: after finding out you're mated to the Spymaster of the Night Court, you can't help but feel self-conscious, thanks to the jealous remarks made by patrons at your bookstore.

warnings: mentions of self-hatred and self-sabotage, angst!!!, body image issues, depression, mentions of death, azriel is an idiot but he figures it out ok, mentions of sex & the mating frenzy

word count: 9.5k (oops...)

Ever since finding out that you’re mated to none other than the High Lord’s Shadowsinger two months ago, everything in your life has flipped upside down.

You’re not just some ordinary bookstore owner anymore, you’re now part of the Night Court’s Inner Circle by default. Your status as a citizen in Velaris has completely changed, but you refused to quit working just because of your mate, much to his disappointment. He’d rather you just stay with him in the House of Wind, filling your days reading your favorite books instead of selling them, but you insisted. You wanted to get to know the male better before immediately accepting the bond, moving in and forgetting about your old life, especially after hearing all the things people say about you and your new mating bond when they’re in or around your shop. 

You have to deal with sidelong glances and whispers from almost everyone who comes into your tiny shop next to the Sidra, have to hear the spiteful unmated females who might kill to be in your position. 

“How do you think she got him? Do you think she slipped one of those banned love tonics into a drink or something?” 

“He could be mated to anyone, and the Cauldron picked her of all people?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he already rejected the bond, I don’t ever see them together.”

“She’s definitely just using him for his money and power, she had to have manipulated him somehow.”

“I thought he was with the Morrigan, she’s much more fitting for a male like him, much prettier.”

Every snide remark hits you like a knife to the heart, but still, you keep your composure throughout every single day. It isn’t ever until you’re in the safety of your own apartment above the bookstore that you allow yourself to mull over the comments, to let yourself fall back into old self-loathing habits.

You quickly learn how to contain your sadness to your end of the bond, blocking Azriel from seeing the pain that you endure on a nightly basis. You’re convinced he would be so embarrassed to see you cry yourself to sleep, to see you poke and prod at your skin in front of the mirror, to see you skip over meals in order to appease that incessant hatred filling your mind, to see you become filled with so much disgust in yourself when you replay the remarks over and over and over again.

The comments never seem to die down as weeks pass, and you slowly convince yourself that they’re all right, that Azriel is going to reject the bond because you don’t deserve him. You don’t see him often anyways, as you’re both preoccupied with your jobs throughout the week, which doesn’t help the fact that you’re convinced that he doesn’t want to be around you. 

You’re stuck between trying to change yourself to fit what you think the Illyrian would like in a mate and rejecting the bond before he gets the chance to break your heart. You eventually decide it’s worth a shot to change yourself into the ideal, beautiful mate that you think he wants you to be before being stung with the inevitable heartbreak that comes with rejecting a bond. 

Sundays used to be your favorite day of the week because you get to close shop at mid-day and spend the rest of the day reading at the foot of the Sidra or walking around to the nearby shops. 

For the last few Sundays, you didn’t feel like doing anything aside from wallowing in self-pity in your bed. You never let yourself do just that, though. 

You’d taken it upon yourself to change your lifestyle after thinking long and hard about the women that he’s surrounded by in the Inner Circle. All of them are tall and toned and so strong, more in shape than you’ve ever been in your life. All of them have natural beauty and grace that you could only wish to have. 

Every Sunday for the last month, you’d spent the afternoon running or doing some kind of training in order to “fix yourself”, to look an inkling more similar to those beautiful high fae of the Inner Circle. This Sunday was no different. 

You closed the bookstore around noon and headed up to your apartment, changing into training clothes before deciding to go for a long run after a day of extremely ruthless comments. You slip out the back door of the bookstore to begin your run, but are halted almost immediately when you walk straight into a wall of leather and warm skin, shadows skittering around your shoulders as you take a step back. 

Azriel peers down at you as you frown at him, concern lacing his features when he takes you in. His heart races as you stand in front of him, excited to finally see you after not seeing you for over a week. He swears you look different every time he’s seen you recently, your frame beginning to thin out in ways that concern him, but he knows better than to bring that up. 

“S–Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” you say meekly, tugging at the sleeves of your jacket while avoiding direct eye contact with the male. 

“It’s quite alright,” he says gently, watching you closely as his eagerness extends down the bond to you. “Where are you going?”

“Was just gonna go on a run,” you reply with a shrug, feigning nonchalance as the self-doubting thoughts swirl around in your mind even more in his presence. “Did–did you need something?”

“Am I not allowed to visit my mate whenever I please?” he teases, which makes your eyes widen in fear that he’s actually upset.

“I’m sorry, I–I didn’t mean it like that!” you stammer, shaking your head at him apologetically as you take a step back, backing into the door behind you. 

“Hey, no it’s alright. I was only joking.” Azriel says quickly, one of his hands coming up to caress one of your arms. “I didn’t mean to take you by surprise, I’m sorry. I should’ve made sure it was okay that I stopped by.”

You shake your head again, blinking before looking up at him with a frown. He wants more than anything to ask you what’s bothering you, but can see that you’re obviously already distraught about whatever it is, and doesn’t want to pry. Since he’s known you, you’ve always been closed off, like him, about your emotions. So, he opts to change the subject instead. 

“I did have a real reason for coming over here though,” he suggests and you nod slowly, waiting for him to continue. “Rhysand requests your presence at dinner tonight.” 

“T–The High Lord?” you question, and Azriel nods. “W–Why is he requesting my presence at dinner?”

“Well, we have family dinner once a week, and he claims it’s not a complete family affair if my mate isn’t present.” he explains, the ghost of a smile on his lips, “I tried to tell him to fuck off, because I know you’re typically busy on Sunday nights, but he insists that you come this week, at least this once.”

There’s a pleading look in your mate’s eyes that makes you nearly melt at his feet, and you know you can’t say no to him at that moment. 

“I–I, yeah, I can come tonight.” you say finally, giving him a weak smile as he grins down at you triumphantly. 

“Perfect,” he retorts, his shadows dancing around you with equal excitement, “I’ll meet you here around five? It’s just over at the River House.” 

You nod quickly, forcing a smile onto your face as he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek before bidding you goodbye. The small gesture makes your heart flutter, but you can’t help but wonder how forced it is, can’t help but wonder if inviting you to dinner is a ploy to bring you in and publicly reject your bond.

There’s no way in hell you’re going for a run now. 

You spend the next five hours pacing around, thinking about what you’re going to wear if you want to even come close to looking as good as the other females that will be there. The clothes in your closet are few and far between, but you finally decide on your nicest dress, one that's made of a gauzy navy fabric, adorned with silver embroidered stars littered over the bodice. It’s more revealing than most clothes you wear, but it’s the closest thing you have to the clothes that the Inner Circle wear. It takes you almost an hour to feel presentable in terms of makeup and hair, and by the time you’re done, you hear a knock on the back door of the store. 

You throw your shoes on quickly before making your way down the stairs, mentally preparing yourself for the evening as you do. 

Azriel’s eyes go wide when you open the door, something like amazement and confusion mixed in his gaze as he stares you down.

“I–I’ve never seen you wear anything like this, it’s beautiful,” he starts, unable to tear his gaze from the flowy dress, “You’re beautiful.”

Your chest aches at his compliment as your mind tries to convince you that he’s lying, but you smile up at him weakly nonetheless. He extends his arm for you to take, ready to lead you to the River House across the Sidra.

The two of you are greeted by more people than you’d expect when you enter the High Lord and Lady’s home, but you recognize them all before they get a chance to introduce themselves. You’ve only met Cassian and Nesta prior to this dinner, so the first hour was spent essentially introducing yourself to each of them one-by-one. Azriel stays by your side through each introduction, hand on the small of your back as his shadows swirl around your hands comfortingly. He can tell that something in you has changed since he met you a few months back, that the light and excitement in your eyes when you first found out he was your mate has since dissipated. There’s an unmistakable lump in his throat as he thinks too much into it, wondering if you’re having second thoughts about him. 

Dinner comes and goes as smoothly as you hoped it would. The nauseous feeling roiling in your gut keeps you from eating much, only pushing the food around on the plate while taking miniscule bites to fight off any comments that any of them might have about your hesitancy. You’re only roped into conversations every once in a while, so you’re able to sit back and explore the dynamic between the group a little more without much involvement. Azriel mainly stays silent, only making a few remarks here and there. 

With a snap of the High Lord’s fingers, dessert appears in front of everyone along with more wine in each of your glasses. 

“I propose a toast,” Rhysand suggests after getting everyone’s attention, eyes landing on you finally, “to Y/N, for bringing our Shadowsinger so much happiness.”

A deep blush spreads across your cheeks as you force a smile, raising your glass as the others do too. ‘Cheers’ is mumbled by everyone before they all take a drink, and Azriel reaches over to squeeze your hand that’s sitting on the edge of the table. You turn to look at him, noting an unfamiliar look in his eyes that you nearly mistake for love, before your thoughts are interrupted by a loud laugh from Amren across the table.

“I, for one, am so grateful that Y/N finally came along after all this time.” she says with a sly grin, “because I think if she wouldn’t have, then the Spymaster would’ve continued to pine after Mor for the rest of eternity.”

There’s a collectively uncomfortable murmur from everyone at her words, and Nesta jabs her in the side with a warning glare as she notices the smile on your face falter for a split second. You could feel all color leave your face as your heart plummets to your stomach, the female’s words confirming all of your doubts about your current situation. Azriel shifts his eyes to you then, but you bring back the same composed mask to your face, the same one you’ve held for the last three months any time someone made snide remarks at you, while you try to avoid his burning gaze. You give the female a withering smile, ignoring the worried stare from the male at your side as you do. 

“Truly, I’m grateful the Cauldron deemed me worthy of being a welcome distraction to such a male like him,” you say in response with a laugh, hoping your voice comes out in a joking tone as you try to mask the disappointment in your wavering voice. 

The comment is enough to earn a few chuckles from around the table, pushing away any awkwardness that stemmed from Amren’s comment. You’re able to skate through the rest of the evening without any snide remarks from the Inner Circle, glad that you’re one step closer to getting the hell out of this house as the group finally starts to stand from the table. 

Azriel follows closely behind you as you bid everyone goodbye, exhaustion raking over your bones as you give one final wave to the High Lord and Lady before turning toward your mate.

There’s a look of worry shining in his eyes when you finally peer up at him, shadows skittering anxiously around your wrists in the meantime.

“Ready to go home?” he questions, forcing a smile onto his face as he guides you towards the front door when you nod. 

“You don’t have to walk me home, Azriel.” you start once you’re out of earshot of everyone else, stopping in your tracks to look at him again. The look on your face is almost unreadable, but his shadows whisper to him about your pain and embarrassment as the two of you stand on the outside of the front door to the River House. “I’m truly fine to go by myself, you don’t–don’t have to bother to go out of your way for me.” 

His brow furrows and a frown pulls his lips down at your words, finally seeing the slightest glimmer of sadness and disappointment shining in your eyes as you speak. He only shakes his head, taking a step towards you before he speaks. 

“I–You’re not a bother to me.” he says, unsure of what else to say to you, “If you’re upset about what Amren said, please know that she always says bullshit like that when she’s drunk, I have not thought about Mor in that way for centuries–”

“Truly, Azriel, it’s quite alright.” you interject with a pained smile. “You didn’t ask to be mated to me, I understand if you’re preoccupied with other love interests or if you just don’t want to be with me.” 

The Illyrian opens his mouth to speak, but is downright dumbfounded by your words to the point where he simply closes his mouth again. He very obviously had been reading the situation wrong this whole time, as he thought that giving you space was the right thing to do in order to let you process the very new bond from your end. He realizes then that you needed reassurance and not space, but it could very well be too late now. Before he can protest, you’re taking a step closer to him in order to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek before stepping away.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, “I get it, I really do. And–And if you need to reject the bond and never want to see me again after tonight, I’ll understand.”

Oh, fuck. You think he wants to reject the bond. 

Hazel eyes meet yours then, and you swear you see a twinkle of regret and hurt shining somewhere between the bronzy flecks, but it’s almost undetectable. Such a miniscule expression that you tell yourself that you imagined it, that his face never changed and that he truly does not care about what you’re saying to him now. 

He shakes his head as you take another step away from him, as you turn on your toes to walk away from the townhouse, away from him. His chest feels like it’s going to cave in then, as the bond to his heart hums with a sadness he’s never felt before. He can feel the bond quivering in pain between your souls, threatening to wither away if either of you even thinks about truly rejecting the bond. 

But you don’t feel it because you’ve expertly blocked the bond out for the last month, because you truly believe that there’s no way Azriel could ever truly want you, because you’re convinced that he wants this.

There’s no hesitation in your step when you turn your back to the male, walking in swift strides towards the bridge to cross the Sidra to reach your little apartment on top of the bookstore. You refuse to let him see how much it kills you to freely offer up a rejected bond, you can’t let him see how you’re crumbling with each step you take. So you stay steady in your gait, hiding your shaking hands in front of you as you blink back the tears that threaten to spill. 

If you would’ve looked back in that moment, you would’ve seen the tears that spilled down the shadowsinger’s cheeks. If you wouldn’t have blocked out the bond in that moment, you would’ve felt the way you almost tore his heart out of his chest as you walked into the darkness. 

Azriel didn’t follow after you though, he didn’t want to make things worse than they already were. He’d fucked up so badly by not showing you how much the bond truly meant to him, by simply assuming that you needed space. 

So, he simply sent a shadow to make sure you got home safely and sat down on the front step of the townhouse. 

He sat on that step for almost two hours, staring at the stars and cursing himself for all of the mistakes he’d made. 

You only get one mate in your eternal life, and he really fucked it up this badly already?

Memories of the first few times the two of you had met replayed in his mind as he sat there, remembering how your eyes glimmered with the most love he’d ever been shown in his life.

You were shy and quiet, something he wasn’t used to from being around the Inner Circle for so long. After living with the loud, boisterous crown for centuries, he was used to emotions being expressed outright. So, he’d mistaken your meek behavior for disinterest, mistaken your nervousness for distaste. He thought you’d needed space, needed time to get used to his brooding and intolerable presence, needed room to process the sudden bond. But, fuck, was he wrong. 

Everything becomes clearer to the male as as it nears midnight. The ache in his chest becomes more and more painful with each passing minute now, and he realizes that he has to get you back, he has to fight to make you understand how much you mean to him. 

_______________________________________

Nesta Archeron started her Sunday much earlier than usual this week, thanks to her mate’s early morning departure. Cassian woke her by rustling around their shared bedroom before dawn, seemingly flustered as he tried to gather his leathers and put them on in the dark. 

“You’re not very good at being quiet, General.” she remarks tiredly, sitting up in the bed to flick one of the bedside faelights on.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, shooting her a sympathetic smile as he nearly trips over the leathers he tries to step into. “Rhys said there’s an emergency in Windhaven, Az and I are leaving soon.” 

She only hums in response, watching him finish getting dressed in comfortable silence. Cassian stands over her at the edge of the bed after tugging on his boots, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek before heading out for the day. 

Nesta knows then that she won’t be able to fall back asleep, so she decides to reach for her latest read on her nightstand. Once she grabs the book, she realizes that she’d finished the night before and is completely out of books to read. She knows then that she’ll have to make her way into town, deciding to take a trip to your bookstore at the base of the Sidra for the first time. 

She took her time getting ready, slipping into a gray dress and her usual boots before heading downstairs to eat breakfast. It was a little after seven in the morning when she made her way towards your bookstore, basking in the chilly morning air as she walked along the river.

It took her all of thirty minutes to reach the store, where she was met with a locked door and a dark front window. It was well past opening time for the store and there were no other signs on the door to suggest otherwise, but your store was definitely closed. 

“I’m not surprised,” Nesta hears a female say from behind her, giggling to her friend as they pass the storefront, “I’m sure she’s been rotting away upstairs because the Shadowsinger broke their bond or something like that. The store’s been closed all week. A lesser fae store owner like her did not deserve a male as beautiful as him.” 

Nesta turns to see the culprits of the spiteful comments and laughs, and the two High Fae females’ eyes widen upon her whipping her head towards them. 

Their smirks fall immediately, the one who was speaking starts to open her mouth but Nesta only holds up a hand to shut her up.

“I don’t know either of you females–and I’m very glad I don’t–” the sharp-eyed female spat out, “but I do know the Shadowsinger and his mate. And all I have to say is that if I hear either of you coming around here to harass her or if I hear of you spewing more lies about her relationship, I will be sure to mention it to the High Lord and Shadowsinger. I’m sure neither of them would be very happy to hear the rumors flying around.”

The females nod feverishly as Nesta stares them down with that silver fire flickering lowly in her eyes, both mumbling apologies under their breaths as they scurry away.

Nesta lets out a huff, turning on her heels to make her way towards the other bookstore across town, where she only finds two new books for herself instead of the countless romance novels she knew she would’ve found at your carefully curated store. The remarks from the two females about you aren’t lost on her as she makes her way through the city, their spiteful words and evil giggles running through her mind as she replays the scenario. 

Instead of trekking all the way back to the House of Wind after gathering her books, she makes her way to the River House in order to spend the day with her favorite person–Nyx.

The day goes by quickly between reading and rolling around with the toddler and his mother, and it’s evening before she or Feyre even realize it. Three Illyrian warriors clad in leathers make their way into the drawing room where the two females lounge on the couch, looking exhausted from a day of crisis management at the camps. 

“Long day?” Nesta says as she raises her eyebrow at the three males, stroking Nyx’s hair as he sleeps silently on her chest. 

Her mate only grunts in agreement, coming over to press a kiss to the crown of her head in greeting. The High Lord is greeted by Feyre with a loving stroke of his cheek, smiling up at him sympathetically. Azriel only stands at the threshold, looking more brooding and closed off than usual.

“Well, good news is you can tell us all about it at dinner.” Feyre suggests, trying to lighten the sour mood of the three males as she reaches for Rhys’ hand to intertwine into her own. “Nuala and Cerridwen just finished making some delicious stew and I don’t know about you all, but I’m starving.”

Dinner seems to lighten the mood quite a bit for the group, quiet conversation carrying through the dining room after Cassian and Rhysand get their complaints out for the day. Azriel sits on the other side of Feyre, silent for the majority of the meal, only engaging when Cassian involves him. 

A burning question gnaws at Nesta as she takes in the sad, hazel-eyed male, she can almost feel the pain radiating off of him from across the table as he stares intently down at the barely touched food in front of him. It’s hard to read the male, so she’s not entirely sure what the sadness is about, but she has to know eventually.

“How was your day, Nes?” her thoughts are interrupted by Cassian’s words and his elbow nudging hers lightly.

“Great, for the most part. Got to spend it with my favorite nephew,” she jokes, grinning briefly over at the babbling toddler being fed by his mother. “But I did find something very interesting on my trip to get some new books this morning.”

She notes how Azriel’s eyes flicker towards her then, intrigued by the mention of going to a bookstore.

“Oh, did you go to Y/N’s store? I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted to take a trip over there to get some new books.” Feyre asks while forking some food for her son. 

“Well, that was the original plan.” Nesta retorts, lips pulling into a half-frown before turning towards the shadowsinger, “Have you heard from your mate lately, Azriel?”

Azriel drops the spoon he was holding into the bowl of stew with a loud clatter, obviously taken aback by the question directed towards him. The room is silent as he finally looks up, seeing four expectant pairs of eyes staring back at him, Nesta’s gaze the harshest out of all of them. 

“No, I haven’t heard from her since Saturday.” he says, willing his voice to be strong as he feels as though he’s going to throw up.

“Hm, interesting.” Nesta hums, eyes sharpening even more, if that’s even possible, “I tried to stop by the store because I finished my last novel last night, but the door was locked and the lights were all off. Then I ran into the most interesting pair of females who I overheard say that the store had been closed all week.” 

“All week?” Feyre questions, a frown on her face now too.

“You haven’t heard from your mate for a week and you haven’t thought to try to contact her?” Rhys interjects, disappointment laced in his tone as he stares down Azriel from across the table, his honed gaze rivaling Nesta’s. 

“She–She hasn’t left her apartment since last Saturday.” Azriel grits out, stopping anyone else from their questioning. “She thinks I want to reject her, to reject the bond. And I’m starting to think I should.” 

Everyone goes silent then, even Nyx’s babbling is hushed as a thick air of tension fills the large dining room. Azriel’s hands are shaking as he stares at his untouched glass of wine, shadows slashing around his wings angrily now.

“Why do you think that?” Nesta’s the only one brave enough to question him, unafraid of facing the upset male. “What makes you think you should reject the bond?”

“I fucked up. I thought she needed space, thought she was overwhelmed by me, by all of this, by being part of the Inner Circle by default.” he says, a pained expression on his face as he finally looks up to Nesta. “I hurt her and I didn’t even realize it. She needed me and I wasn’t there for her. I can’t figure out how to make it better, I–I don’t know how to take away her pain. I’ve been her mate for less than six months and I’ve already lost her trust in me. I don’t deserve such a sweet creature like her.”

“Do you want to reject the bond?” Nesta persists, and he knows she means to ask if he loves you or not.

“I don’t. But–”

“There’s no but, Azriel.” Cassian interrupts firmly, “You either want to, or you don’t. And you don’t want to reject it, I know you don’t. You’ve never been happier than you were when you realized you had a mate and that it was her. You need to get your head out of your ass, stop pitying yourself and start showing her that you want to be with her. If not, you’re going to kill the poor female. You’re gonna fucking kill her from a broken heart.”

_______________________________________

In all honesty, you don’t know what day it is anymore. You’ve sat in the dark in your apartment above the bookstore all alone for Gods know how long, letting yourself wallow in the sorrow that fills your chest every time you breathe. 

You can’t remember the last time you ate, the last time you did anything aside from stare at the wall next to your bed, save for the times that you’ve gone to the bathroom. It truly feels like you’re dying, like you’re withering away into nothing, and you might as well be. You don’t know what day it is, but you do know that Azriel hasn’t tried to contact you since you left the River House on Saturday, you do know that he wants nothing to do with you.

You hadn’t realized how much you had grown to rely on the male’s visits and nervous glances, how much they’d excited you, until they were no more. 

The golden thread in your soul quivers every time you think about him, but you don’t let yourself think about missing him for too long. You always shut down before it gets too bad, and push yourself back into the thoughts of self-hatred, the thoughts of how you wish you’d just cease to exist already. There wasn’t anyone around anymore to check on you, anyone to make sure you made it through this bout of depression like there used to be. Your sister and mother have been gone for years, and now your mate, the one who gave you a sliver of hope for the shortest time, is gone too. 

When the first knock falls on the door to your apartment, you barely hear it over the incessant ringing in your ears. You choose to ignore it, thinking whoever it is will go away eventually if they stand out in the late evening cold for long enough. 

But they don’t. 

They knock, and knock, and knock, and knock for what feels like thirty minutes, each knock getting louder and more insistent than the last. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to fall back asleep to ignore the sound, but it doesn’t work. After what feels like hours, but is probably only a few minutes, the knocking finally stops. 

What you don’t hear–or see–in that moment is the shadows that slip under the door at the bottom of the stairs, quietly unlocking it for their master to slip inside, and the other shadows ahead of their master that report back to him about your state before he makes his way up the stairs. 

Moments later, you hear the creak of the stairs and your heart sinks, but you feel too weak to move, too weak to save yourself, and for a moment, you thank the Cauldron that some intruder has finally come to put you out of your misery in one way or another.

You don’t expect the weak, broken voice of a male at the top of the stairs as you’re laying with your back towards the threshold, the sadness in an all too familiar voice when you hear, “Gods, Y/N. I am so sorry.” 

It takes every ounce of strength out of Azriel to walk over to the bed after taking in the sight of your studio apartment in complete disarray. The place is unkempt and needs plenty of repairs just from what he can see with a quick scan, but that’s not what hurts his heart the most in the moment. You facing the blank wall, staring mindlessly ahead as you’re curled up in a ball at the edge of your bed is what breaks him. He finally makes his way over to the wall that you’re facing, but you don’t look up at him, unable to take the energy to complete the small gesture.

Azriel falls to his knees in front of you, reaching a hand out to stroke your hair. He takes you in fully then–your unkempt hair, chapped lips, red cheeks and heavy eyes–you truly were dying from a broken heart.

“Y/N,” he says gently, trying to keep his voice as strong as possible while choking back tears. You take a long moment to finally look up at him, a look of confusion and then delusion crossing over your face as you do–you had to be dreaming him, right?

“I’m–I’m so fucking sorry, love. Gods, how long have you been laying here?” he says, and you only blink up at him because you’re not even sure of the answer, numb to it all at this point. “Are–Do you want me to help you? Can I help you somehow, please? I–I wanna fix this, I wanna make you better.” 

A strange noise leaves your throat then as your brow furrows at his words, your delusions during depressive episodes have never said anything like this to you before, and that’s when it all feels too real. You slowly realize that this is very much the real Azriel kneeling in front of you with tears shimmering in his eyes, clasping your very clammy hand between his very warm ones. Tears brim in your own eyes now, the weight of the entire situation hitting you like a ton of bricks. You’d ruined yourself before he’d even broken the bond, so now you’ve hurt him by somehow signaling to him of your suffering. 

“‘M sorry, A–Azriel,” you croak out, the first words to have left your lips in days. 

“S–You’re sorry?” he says, voice more stern than before, shaking his head persistently, “No–No, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about, love.” He squeezes your icy hand then, giving you a weak, bitter smile, “I’m sorry for not coming sooner, okay? I’m so sorry and I’ll apologize until the day I die for not being here for you when you needed me. I–I wanna help you now, if you’ll let me. Will you let me help you? Can I take you home with me to get you some help?” 

Despite the confusion and sadness swirling around in your deprived brain, you nod at the male, who jumps up almost immediately after you nod. He slowly peels the covers off your frail form, heart breaking at the sight of you. He pushes the ache in his chest down to be strong for you then, gently scooping you up into his arms. The two of you are engulfed in shadows seconds later as Azriel shadow-walks to the House of Wind as quickly as he can. 

You don’t remember much from your first moments at the House of Wind, other than the fact that there were a lot of people around you in a very short amount of time. You recognized some of them, the High Lord and Lady, along with Cassian and Nesta, but other faces were less familiar. One woman came into the room you laid in, tugging a warm blanket over your body before using what you could only assume was healing power on you. She’d mumbled something to Azriel on her way out before patting him on the shoulder, and that was the last thing you’d remembered before finally falling into a peaceful sleep for the first time in a week.

Sunlight streaming in through the curtains woke you later on, you weren’t entirely sure how long you’d been out for but you’re sure it had been for more than a few hours at this point. You groaned lightly as you stretched your weak legs, eyes fluttering open to take in your surroundings fully for the first time. The room smelled of mahogany and amber, a familiar and inviting scent you knew too well to not understand whose room you were in. 

Though alone at the moment, you know he’s not far, as his shadows skitter excitedly around you as you attempt to sit up in the bed. 

The door opens not even two minutes later, the shadowsinger standing in the doorway with a tray of what looked to be steaming food, a glass of water, and some medications. He nearly drops the tray when he sees you sitting up in the middle of his bed, not expecting you to already be awake and so alert. Without a word, he strides over to the large bed, placing the tray on the bedside table before sitting in the chair he’d positioned on the side where you laid.

“Hi,” he says with a sharp inhale, giving you a weak smile as he searches your eyes for any emotion he can find. 

“H–How long was I out for?” you ask meekly, the full weight of your actions crashing down on you all at once. “How long have I overstayed?”

“What?” he questions, a frown pulling his lips down as his heart sinks. You truly think you’re burdening this male, when all he wants is for you to be safe and to feel loved. “You haven’t overstayed, I brought you here to heal, I wanted you to come here to get better.”

You shake your head then, blinking harshly at him as you refuse to believe what he’s telling you. “N–No, you only came to find me because I’m–I’m stupid and didn’t give you the opportunity to reject the bond before I mourned what we never had.” you insist, looking at him with wide eyes. “I’m sorry you had to deal with all of this, please–please, you can reject it now, you don’t have to pretend anymore.”

The level of self destruction going on in your mind was on another level that Azriel couldn’t deign to comprehend in the moment, but he knew it wasn’t just by your own doing. He can see the internal turmoil you’re going through, can feel your peril down the bond that he now realizes you’ve been shrouding in your own shadows for months, can feel the way you’re tearing yourself apart from the inside out. He reaches for you then, hands coming up to cup your cheeks gently as his shadows rub soothing circles along your back to calm you down, though you continue to babble apologetically about how he should hate you and how you’re the one who should be apologizing for everything.

“Y/N, hey, hey, hey. Look at me.” he coos gently, thumbs stroking your cheekbones softly to bring you back to the moment as you finally lock eyes with him, “I don’t want to reject the bond, I never wanted to reject the bond.” 

You try to shake your head feverishly, but he doesn’t let you as his hands stay on either side of your face. “Nesta told me about some females she heard outside your store on Sunday, who said some pretty foul things about you.” he begins, having to reign his anger in as he speaks about the females, “Is that something that happened a lot at the store? Did females that come into the bookstore say things to you about us often?” 

You can’t even look at him now, dread and self-loathing gnawing at your chest as you think back to all the hateful comments thrown at you throughout the last few months. You shake your head slowly now, brow furrowing as you try to push down the bile rising in your throat. 

“No, it only happened a–a few times.” you lie bluntly, staring down into your lap as you try to pull away from his touch again and this time he lets you, watching closely as you attempt to stand from the bed. “I want to take a bath.” you say, attempting to change the subject to something less painful.

Azriel is there to catch you when you all but fall when trying to stand on your own two feet, hands landing on your waist to situate you back on the edge of the bed, “You’re not supposed to be getting up on your own yet. You didn’t eat for almost a whole week, you’re too weak to stand right now.” he says softly, hands firmly planted on your waist still, “Do you want me to take you to the bathroom? This food will still be warm when we return if you’d rather bathe now.”

You nod wordlessly, brow pinched in frustration at your current situation. Azriel easily picks you up, carrying you bridal style into the en suite bathroom and sitting you on the edge of the large tub as he draws a warm bath. He turns the tap off once it’s nearly full, turning on his heels to leave you alone in the bathroom for some privacy. 

“A–Azriel,” you call out before he shuts the door, making the male stop in his tracks to face you, heart nearly shattering when you look at him with wide, shameful eyes. “Can you help me bathe?”

The male is at the edge of the tub in an instant, nodding at you gently. He looks away as you strip out of the clothes that you’d been in for a week, tossing the dirty pajamas into a pile at your feet before stepping into the tub slowly. He helps you ease down onto the bottom, letting go of your hand he didn’t realize he’d grabbed once you tug out of his grasp to wrap the arm around your knees you pull into your chest. 

You settle into the water, letting the warmth engulf your cold limbs as you lean your head back to dip your hair, up to the scalp, into the water. Azriel gives you a few minutes to relax in the water, watching as your muscles finally relax slightly under the caress of the liquid. He reaches for the bottle of shampoo eventually, eyeing you closely as he pours some into his hands to lather it. You lean your head up as he does, giving him a small nod of invitation before he reaches for your scalp.

There’s nothing but love and tenderness behind his caress, fingers combing through your damp hair to thoroughly clean it. He’s careful with every movement, making sure to not make the wrong move and send you spiraling for one reason or another. 

It’s such a tender moment as he gently tilts you back to rinse your hair with a cup of water that it nearly makes you sob, but hold back for him to continue. 

“Can you promise me that you won’t ever let yourself get like this again?” he says, voice barely above a whisper as he runs conditioner through your hair. “I–I don’t know if I can handle seeing you so sad ever again. I won’t let you destroy yourself over my stupidity, not when I’m the one to blame for this whole situation.”

You tense at his words, chest tightening as you hear his voice crack when he chokes back tears. It takes you a moment, but you finally turn to face him, your own tears blurring your vision as you look up at the hazel-eyed male.

“It’s–It’s not your fault, Azriel.” you say, shaking your head insistently at him, “It’s my fault for making you feel obligated to be nice to me, I–I know you didn’t ask to be mated to a lowly, lesser fae bookshop owner when there’s plenty of beautiful high fae females out there ready to accept your hand in marriage at the drop of a hat. I shouldn’t have tried to pursue you after the bond snapped, I–I should’ve let you reject it then so you could go be happy with whoever you want to be with.”

“It’s you I want to be with, Y/N.” he insists, hands shaking as they fall from your head. He falls to his knees then, pivoting so he’s face-to-face with you when he continues, “I don’t care that you’re lesser fae, I fucking hate that you’re considered that anyways, it’s a disgusting term. I’m not even a high fae myself, I don’t care about title or status or whatever else, I only care that I’ve finally found my mate.” Azriel is trying his damndest to keep himself from falling apart as he speaks, “My mate, the love of my life, the one that I get to spend the rest of my days with. I know you feel like I pushed you away and I know I made you feel unwanted, but I thought you wanted space. I know now that you don’t, and I promise you that I’ll spend every waking moment, from now until we die, showing you that I am so fucking happy that you of all people are my mate. I love you.”

Whether he realizes it or not, Azriel projects his passion and love down the bond in the moment. Your deceitful brain would’ve told you he was lying had it not been for that tug and flow of warmth between your souls, if it had not been for the true, unadulterated ache you felt in your chest when he said that he was happy that you were his mate. 

Tears well up in your eyes once more as you stare at him, really taking him in, in full form, for the first time. He’s so beautiful, and though there’s a little voice in the back of your mind that still tells you that he’s lying, deep down you know that he’s all yours. Something blooms in your chest then, something stronger than you’ve ever felt, something so compelling that you can’t just sit and stare at him anymore. 

You don’t say anything as you continue to stare up at him, reaching your shaky hands out of the water to cup his cheeks. He almost flinches when you do, taken aback by you initiating the touch, but he doesn’t. With the strength gifted to you by the love confession of your mate, you’re able to maneuver onto your knees and tug him a little closer, crashing your lips into his in a gentle, watery kiss. 

“I love you, Azriel.” you murmur against his lips when you finally pull away from the kiss for a short moment. 

He smiles against your lips, pulling you back in for another kiss as his hands grip your forearms to keep you from slipping in the tub. 

“We really need to get you cleaned up before we can finish this conversation, yeah?” he encourages in between kisses, smoothing down your wet hair as it drips on the side of the tub.

You breathe out a laugh, nodding at him before turning to let him continue washing your hair, and then moving on to your body. Each touch threatens to set you on fire, but there’s no sexual intention behind them, only loving caresses meant to wash you clean of the last week of pain. 

After getting you out of the shower, Azriel slowly dresses you in one of his large shirts, mumbling an apology about how he’ll be sure to bring some of your clothes over if you’d like him to. You only smile at him softly, knowing you’ll be bringing more than a few of your items over soon enough. 

He insists that you eat after your bath, bringing you back to the bed where the soup is still steaming hot, likely thanks to the House that Azriel explained was imbued with magic and would do anything you wished it to. You eat the stew after taking the handful of medications and strength tonic that the healer, Madja, had given him for you, relishing the feeling of the warm food settling in your stomach. 

The change in your energy level after the strength tonic is astonishing. You feel as though you can run for days, but know better than to try something like that in front of your terrified mate. But, there is one thing that you feel like you need to do at the moment, something that’s long overdue.

You’re laying in Azriel’s arms when you finally get your burst of energy, sitting up abruptly enough to make him sit up with you. There’s a look of wild concern on his face when he reaches for your hips, steadying you as you pull your legs to the side of the bed. 

“Are you alright?” he questions immediately, brow furrowing when you miraculously stand on your own two feet. “Do you need something? The House can get you whatever you need.”

You give him a small smile, leaning down to caress his cheek before kissing his forehead gently. 

“I wanna get this thing myself,” you state matter-of-factly as he raises a brow at you. “You stay right here, alright?” 

Before he can protest, you’re walking towards the door of the bedroom to swing it open. You shut the door behind you, leaving the male in the room without a word. 

The House is magic alright, you confirm that when you’re on your way down the stairs and it lights the way for you, only letting the fae lights on the direct path towards the kitchen light the way. It knew exactly what you were doing. 

You’re met with a cutting board, a block of cheese, a loaf of bread and a bowl of grapes next to an empty plate when you enter the kitchen, a lone fae light above the counter lighting the area so you can prepare the plate. You make quick work of cutting the cheese and bread, trying to ignore the way your hands are shaking incessantly as you saw into the sourdough. It only takes you a few minutes to lay everything out on the plate and the House takes care of the rest, then you’re on your way back upstairs, on your way to change your life forever. 

Azriel shifts quickly on the bed when you return, sitting up straight as he locks eyes with you. His heart nearly leaps out of his chest when his eyes flicker down to the plate of food in your hand, realizing what you were up to when you left the room. 

You give him a nervous smile, gripping the plate with two hands as you make your way over to the bed, careful not to tip its contents onto the floor as you quiver. You wonder if he can hear your heart beating in the moment, as you feel like it’s about to beat through your ribcage with one more loud thump. 

“Y/N…” he trails as you shakily extend the plate to him when you perch on the edge of the bed, looking up at you with a look you can only describe as certainty. “Are you sure about this? You want to accept the bond right now?” 

“If you don’t eat this food right now, you might as well send me back to my little old apartment so I can try to die of a broken heart again.” you say, voice barely above a whisper as you give him a watery smile and push the plate closer to him.

He takes the plate from you then, but doesn’t grab any food at first, looking back up at you before he does. He leans over, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss before taking a shuddering breath.

“I promise you that after this bond is accepted, I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you that you are so much more than all of those evil things that those females said about you. I’ll spend every waking moment showing you how perfect you are and making up for the time that we didn’t get to spend together,” he begins, planting a kiss on your cheek, “I love you.”

“I love you, Azriel.” you whisper, “now eat that food, please. I’m tired of waiting.” 

He smiles at you then, leaning back on the bed as he grabs for a piece of bread and cheese, ready to spend the rest of his eternal life with you, with his mate. 

_______________________________________

It takes almost a whole month for the mating frenzy to die down enough for the two of you to be able to integrate back into society. Rhys insisted on letting the two of you stay in the Cabin for your time away, but you opted to spend your time in Summer in a secluded bungalow for the four weeks instead. 

When you do return to Velaris after your time away, Azriel insists on taking another week off from spymaster duties to get your bookstore back on track and to help move your belongings to the House of Wind while the two of you look for your very own home, somewhere closer to the Rainbow where you can continue to run your bookstore. You don’t dare to protest your mate’s wishes, letting him alternate between packing the little amount of things you have upstairs and taking inventory in the store while you run the register. 

It’s a sunny Saturday when you open your doors for the first time after over a month of being closed, and you’re much busier than you’d expected to be in all honesty, though it seems many of the females coming in are just being nosy to see how true it is that you’re actually back in the flesh. 

There are less snide remarks thrown your way now, but still enough that they make you flinch every once in a while. They don’t bother you anymore, though. During your time away, Azriel showed you how much you meant to him and how beautiful he thought you were in many ways, with his mouth, with his hands, with his tongue, with his…

“Do you think she’s single again? Like…do you think he actually rejected the bond?” you hear a high fae female say on the far end of your busy shop, her eyes darting in your direction as she speaks to a friend.

“I hope so, there’s no way he actually–Oh my Gods.” her friend says, eyes wide when they fall on none other than the shadowsinger himself emerging from the back room of your store, a dozen books in hand. 

A satisfied smile spreads across your face as Azriel walks behind the checkout counter to press a kiss to your forehead before placing the books next to you. The sound of the females whispering hastily falls on deaf ears as your mate turns to you, grabbing a small piece of paper off the top of the pile of books he’d been holding. 

“Found six more copies of both of those romance novels you said you were out of, so no need to order more until those are gone.” he says while pointing at the books. “You really need a better inventory system.”

“Hmm, maybe I’ll just hire you to do it for me instead, since you’re so good at it.” you tease, shooting him a smirk.

“As long as I’m compensated fairly, I wouldn’t mind.” he jokes with a wink, pulling you in for an embrace to speak to you lowly. “On another note, you are officially fully moved into the House of Wind. So once you’re closed up for the day, we’ll be able to go home and officially christen the bedroom.” 

“We’ve already christened that bedroom,” you giggle, rolling your eyes at him, “it’s been thoroughly christened, multiple times at this point. And if I remember correctly, it’s the first place that was christened by us.”

“And?” he says, lips quirked up into a smirk, “I plan on christening it multiple times tonight, and the next night, and the night after that…”

“Okay, I get it,” you laugh, slapping his chest lightly as you pull out of his grip, “You’re insatiable.”

“And you’re beautiful and the love of my life.” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple.

It was safe to say that you’re getting nowhere past the mating frenzy phase of your relationship anytime soon.

And you’re okay with that.

taglist (add yourself here!): @wrecklesssly @slutforwordsfr @georgiadixon @dreamloud4610 @angelbunny222 @bookishbishhh @fanficscuziranout @Buckingforbuckybarnes @thefandomplace

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Domestic + Intimate Headcanons

*Minus Caleb only because his myth and cards aren't out yet, and I don't feel confident adding him when there's so much lore and little quirks we still don't know about him. I shall make a separate post for him if this goes well.

But Hi! This is my 1st hc so please go easy on me. I believe some of the bullet points on here are canon, but I can’t help talking abt how cute this all is 🫠 I'm not the best writer and I tried so hard to be impartial, but you can probably still tell where my bias lies LOL

As always these are just my opinions!!

tags: headcanon, fluff, mostly gender neutral, but these lean towards an afab + fem!reader, 18+

***MDNI; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something nsfw despite the warnings and will be BLOCKED***

Disclaimer: I personally think all of them like praise, body worship and are humungous eaters. If the specifications aren't noted under your fav LI, it's because I didn't want this too become too redundant!

✵ ✰ ✷ ✭✮ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ ❅ ❆ ❃ 𓆰· 𓆃

Rafayel

SFW

• Has definitely set up a date where you do that TikTok trend painting portraits of each other

• Hates the caricature you two posed for at the amusement park

• On more than one occasion you've (jokingly) threatened to frame said caricature at his gallery to shut him up during an argument

• Is an escape artist. He has a long history of being captured/on the run. It’s no wonder he could easily untie himself from your ropes

• I don't think we talk enough about how rich this man is, but I think he'd be quite into second hand fashion. Think runway archives, vintage designer pieces, custom couture, etc.

• Always drives over the speed limit

• Will never tease you during your art lessons with him

• THE best bf to take pictures of you for your social media accounts. He’d suggest different poses while contorting himself in odd positions on the ground just to get the perfect angle

• Sings you to sleep

• Surprisingly good at doing hair. If you need help dying, braiding, or putting your hair in rollers, he'd actually do a pretty good job.

• Created an entire album on his phone of candid photos he took when you weren't looking

• Also made a scrapbook of polaroids from all your scenic dates and vacations together, most of them are of you

NSFW

• He’s a mermaid. He is the motion of the ocean. The hip movements? Stamina? Best (and prettiest) dick game goes to him, I’m sorry.

• LOUD, noisy, and talkative. Starts to ramble when he’s close

• Wax play? [in the submissive]

• Nipple play [in the submissive]

• Edging + Milking

• I think his open vulnerability makes people think he’s more sub leaning, but some of it’s for show

• Because of your bond, he’ll submit; but he’ll do it in such a way that you’re right where he wants you to effectively make the switch

• Make no mistake, he doesn’t mind subbing from time to time. He loves seeing you on top of him, using his body. He feels a sense of accomplishment being a vessel for your pleasure

• There was a tweet that explained how Raf would be a bit of a bully as a dom, but in the best way (recommended read)

• Chuckles and coos at you after each of your orgasms

• Isn’t into watersports, but gets a massive ego boost if you squ*rt

• Is sometimes overly arrogant about toys, but is also so obsessed with you, that he made you get molds of each other on the rare occasions you’re apart for too long

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚

Sylus

SFW

• Has asked his private chef for a one on one culinary lesson to impress you with a home cooked meal

• A patron and secret lover of the arts. Dabbles in the opera, theatre and certain musicals

• He’s*slightly* better at drawing and singing than he lets on, but loves taking the piss

• This man is so funny, but his life and profession is all too serious, making the small moments of banter more precious for the both of you

• Will also hum to lull you to sleep

• Secret polyglot

• His way of ending petty arguments with you is by throwing you over his shoulder and going to bed

• Retail therapy connoisseur

• Surprisingly handy

• He of course, only likes visiting Linkon to see you, but also likes your apartment. While it’s microscopic in his eyes, he slowly understands what small things make a home feel cozy and tries to replicate that at his

• He’s intrigued by your self care sessions and will often indulge, joining in with the sheet masks, aromatherapy, massages and waxing (he likes the heat of the wax lol). He’ll put on a brave face and deny the pain, boasting about his high tolerance

• Spoils you in general, but especially when you’re sick or on your period

• Will carry you around just cause -much like a typical cat owner who loves to randomly pick up and cuddle their cat LOL

• Would buy out a restaurant for the night and have the orchestra play a medley of some of your favourite songs you’ve discovered from his record collection

• There’s really no such thing as small gestures with him

NSFW

• Marking

• Nipple play (giving and receiving)

• Blindfolds

• Certified munch; almost loves it more than penetrative sex

• AND HE 10000% HOLDS YOUR HANDS WHILE GOING DOWN ON YOU— WHY ISNT THIS WRITTEN MORE IN FICS

• Pleasure dom. He’s not sadistic or a bully when it comes to overstimulation (unlike Raf), he’s the very definition of “will talk you through it”

• Absolutely the type to coo at the sounds and faces you make. You could not look more adorable in his eyes

• Likes watching you solo

• Your satisfaction is his priority, so he’s not intimidated by toys. That being said, he definitely owns a remote vibrator

• Phone sex. No question

• In addition to phone sex, he bought those long distance bluetooth couple’s toys that sync up with each other so it’ll react to both of your movements in real time

• In the submissive, he really loves to see you in control of your own pleasure. He’ll encourage you to use him (eg face sitting, leg humping, cowgirl, etc)

• Slight masochist; those cuffs, paddles and chains are for him 😭 he’s curious to see how far you’ll go. By the end of it all, he’ll use his evol to free himself of whatever restraint he’s under

•As far as a degradation kink, I don’t see it for him, sorry. He adores you too much to call his sweetie a “slut”, “whore”, “filthy,” and so on

• Not as rough as he appears. Really the only time he’s rougher than he realises, is when he’s biting you

• If you want it more aggressive, you’ll have to ask. Even then, he’ll be cautious not to overdo it. The last thing he wants is to hurt you

• It’s canon he loves praise. Giving and receiving

𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡ 𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡ 𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡ 𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡

Xavier

SFW

• Low-key likes to carry you around and his fav way is by piggyback ride (loves being physically close to you and the way you cling to him)

• Will fast all day just for Hotpot or Brazilian steakhouse

• Is much better at baking than cooking

• Leaves you Post-it note love letters in places like mirrors, cabinets, and drawers, before he leaves after spending the night

• Unintentional comedian. He's sometimes taken aback by your laughter, but it only encourages him to keep talking just to hear it again

• He honestly loves sharing things with you; food, books, (his) hoodies, etc. He just doesn’t like sharing YOU

• Would plan a scavenger hunt date

• Is always playing coy because he knows it triggers your cuteness aggression

• The pettiest of petty when he's upset or threatened (look up his affinity lvl 140 video call)

• Sometimes stricter than Zayne when it comes to your health & recovery. He hates to see you over-exerting yourself after an injury and has scolded you before about taking it easy

• Loves to get ready for bed with you at the same time. Showering together, doing skincare together, brushing teeth together; whatever you’re doing he’s either tagging along or sitting there watching you

• When he’s spending the night, he can't fall asleep without you playing with his hair and holding hands

• Learned your favourite flower and has been secretly sneaking into Jeremiah’s greenhouse planting and tending to a small bush of them to gift to you whenever

NSFW

• Thigh job

• Mating press

• Morning sex, specifically morning head (f receiving)

• While going down on you, he def seems like the type to keep going after you’ve climaxed, but he slows down his movements, giving languid kisses to your center to help ride out the wave of pleasure vs intentional overstimulation (though he isn’t against that either)

• It seems that the consensus on here is that he's the best eater of the LIs? I don't necessarily disagree; I'm just not completely sure if that title goes to him quite yet

• The most primal and rough of the LIs. Hair pulling, choking (safely), spanking, leashes

• Also likes it when you’re rough with him

[I know I said I wasn’t confident making any hcs abt Caleb yet, but I have a slight hunch he rivals Xavier for most primal]

• Goes feral when you say his name

• This man is a dom, don’t let the puppy eyes and bunny ears fool you 💀

• He's not as noisy as he is talkative, especially during foreplay

• BOSSY

• I don’t put it past him to feel like he’s in competition with vibrators. He’d rather him use one on you, but knows he’s being irrational

• While he’s not really into feet, he’d suck toes during missionary to see how you’d react

✵ ✰ ✷ ✭ ✧ ✸ ✮ ✵ ✰ ✷ ✭ ✧ ✸ ✮ ✵ ✰ ✷ ✭ ✧ ✸

Zayne

SFW

• Alternatively to Sylus, this man is comprised of small gestures that snowball (hehe) over time. One more meaningful than the next

• While he respects and admires your independence, he needs you to need him. He’ll never vocalise it, but he feels most useful and accomplished when you ask for his help

• Won’t let you carry any bags when you’re out shopping, not even your purse

• Like Rafayel, he also has an album on his phone with pictures of mostly you. Though he feels odd taking your picture when you’re not looking, he’s snuck in a photo or two when you were looking particularly lively mingling with the people at his work event

• Knows your go-to orders at all of your fav restaurants by heart

• Stargazing dates. When either of you are out of town for a while and are catching up on the phone before bed, he’ll tell you to go outside and look at the moon

• After a long shift at work, he’ll kneel by your side of the couch waiting for you to embrace him, hugging and nuzzling your waist

• He also secretly loves being the little spoon

• Subscribed to a delivery service that sends you flowers on your birthday every year

• There’s something about Zayne that makes me think dogs absolutely LOVE him even though he’s not particularly fond of their energetic nature

• Spoils you rotten when you’re on your period. Full princess treatment; plushie heating pads, full body massages, raspberry tea, and hand feeding you snacks. Basically Dr Zayne turns into Nurse Zayne

• He’s more lenient with your cravings, letting you have a small portion of desserts or snacks only after you’ve finished your meal

• Loves your laugh but knows his dry wit won’t always work, so he’ll just tickle you if the joke doesn’t land

• Fell in love with you after the Drunken Intimacy card. It made him realise how much he likes holding you and tending to your needs

• Doesn’t even bother lecturing you about how bad high heels are for your joints and muscles anymore. He now keeps a pair of slippers in his car just in case you start to complain

• He can never resist the urge to kiss your cheek or forehead when he sees you’re fast asleep (Canon 🥹)

NSFW

• Has a weakness for lingerie, lace and stockings

• In the submissive, he’d be just like the kitty butler in his card -the goodest of good boys

• …Feet? I’m not sure if it’s anything freaky. Kudos to whoever clocked that for sub! Zayne months prior to the kitty butler quad banner

• Soft dom, but not as gentle as his voice lets on. He’s already a bit strict with you in your relationship, and he’s the same way in bed. How is he supposed to know what feels good if you don’t vocalise it?

• The only time he’s pretty rough with you is when you provoke him. But he checks in with you to make sure he isn’t being too hard

• Once he loses his control, he gets a tiny bit greedy too (“We’re not done here. Quitting halfway isn’t something I would do” —Silent Poem Secret Times)

• His methods of brat “taming” aren’t anything over the top or domineering. Though he enjoys spanking, he thinks there are better lessons he could teach you to combat your brattiness

• Has definitely gone down on you and stopped altogether right before you climax as a form of punishment

• Shibari + Hitachi -girl run!

• Ice play

• Nipple play (giving and receiving)

• The size of your chest doesn’t really matter to him, he just really likes to hold and massage them. It’s his favourite way to keep his hands warm

• This man is so good with his hands and in more ways than one. The placement and movement of his hands in the Nightly Rendezvous card sent me into orbit. The body worship he’d do is insane

• Needless to say he’s the best at fingering

• You’re irresistible to him. He breathes you into every kiss, deepening as your bodies continue to merge. There’s no sex without passion, even the “quickies”

• Quickies usually only happen when you’ve teased or provoked him too far during (or on your way to) an event. Otherwise, he likes taking his time with you

• He knows your body like the back of his hand. He’s memorised what triggers the sounds, faces, and jolts your body makes

• Much like Xavier, he loves to hear you cry out his name

❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆

[gghostwriter]

Can i have a fluffy spencer x reader piece. Just something cozy where they are all at rossis maybe after a case for some team bonding and chill time. And like he is offering everyone wine and reader goes along like "i can't" bcs she pregnant? Fluff fluff super fluff pls

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff! wc: 0.6k A/N: Reader is not part of the BAU, hope that's alright. I had fun writing this, hope you enjoy! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💗 Main masterlist

Special Diet. // Spencer Reid

Your fiancee and his team had been out on the field for three consecutive cases all over the country. Just through Spencer’s nightly ritual calls alone, you could tell how tired and stressed he was and by extension the other members. Which was why, during their second night back in home ground, you volunteered to cook them a small feast—as long as Rossi hosted it in his place, which he readily agreed to as he was never one to say ‘no’ when a culinary chef such as yourself volunteers to cook up a meal.

“So what did our local chef cook up for the night?” Morgan asked as the team sat around the laid out table by the backyard.

You smiled, placing the finishing touches on the table. “I wanted to give the Italian cuisine a break so I present to you, French delicacies. For the starters, we have here salade lyonnaise with slices of baguette—” gesturing to the mid-size plate to their upper left. “—our mains, steak frites, and yes, I remembered to make yours rare, Morgan—” a few chuckles escaped from the team members as the called out profiler sheepishly placed his hand down “—and profiteroles for dessert.”

Rossi then started going around the table with his choice of wine to match the lavish dinner you’ve prepared.

“If you weren’t engaged to Reid, I’d marry you,” Penelope gushed as she took a bite of her meal.

Emily chuckled. “Get in line, Penelope. I get to marry her first if she changes her mind.”

“You never fail to impress me, Bambina. Now can I interest you for a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon?” Rossi asked as he reached your seat between Spencer and Emily.

“Actually, no thank you,” your answer eliciting an echo of utensils being dropped on the table. “I’m trying to cut back.”

JJ leaned forward. “Our very own wine connoisseur is saying no to Rossi’s aged wine?”

“I’m trying this special diet,” you shrugged, subtly studying if any of the best profilers the FBI has to offer understood the real reason why. Based on Hotch’s small smile behind his glass wine, the unit chief had caught on quite quickly.

“You don’t need to diet. You’re petite and fit, right kid?” Morgan clarified.

The corners of Spencer’s lips pulled slightly up as he squeezed your hand in his. “Actually, she does need to stick to the diet.”

Penelope gasped, clearly appalled at the stance your fiancee had taken. “Take that back! No way you said that, Reid!”

You giggled at the affronted reactions of the team—minus Hotch and Rossi as the two older profilers clinked their glasses together at the side. “It’s fine, Penny. It’s the truth anyway.”

Emily sent a dirty look to Spencer before asking on. “What else does this special diet entail?”

“Unpasteurized dairy, cold cuts, liver, game meat, and raw sushi to name a few,” Spencer listed out loud and with each, the smile on his face grew bigger and bigger.

“Wait, isn’t that—” JJ mumbled before promptly standing up from her seat and rushing to give you a hug.

Morgan tilted his head to the side. “What? What did I miss?”

Spencer chuckled before revealing the most obvious clue. “She has to follow the strict diet for 36 more weeks.”

There was a beat of silence before shouts and squeals emitted from all ends of the table.

“You’re pregnant?” Penelope gasped.

Emily added on. “With boy genius?”

You both nodded, bringing out a printed sonogram safely tucked in Spencer’s jacket that was draped around your shoulders. It had been a surprise when you went in for your yearly check-up but it was the type of news that Spencer quickly became happy with. His own family was expanding and he couldn’t have chosen a better partner than you.

“We present to you, baby Reid!”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[alastorss]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor comes home to silence.

It's strange considering how much of a night owl you've become since meeting him. The quietness is almost eerie—the long stretch of hall between the staircase and your shared bedroom seeming daunting despite the fact that he's walked it a million times before.

The rest of the hotel is dark, like it's been devoid of life all this time. Even Husk has retired for the night, the bar closed and wiped down.

He wonders if he accidentally waltzed into an alternate dimension.

Shaking his head, Alastor creeps down the hall as to not disturb the other guests between him and the bedroom. The door creaks at the hinges as he slowly pushes it open, not wanting to spook you in case you were awake.

He can't explain it, but warmth fills him from the tips of his ears all the way down to his toes when he finally lays eyes on you.

You've fallen asleep at the desk, head buried in your arms to hide your face from the light of the lamp. Your shoulders rise and fall gently with each soft snore, the blanket sloppily thrown over your shoulders cascading down to the floor to make you look like royalty.

The demon feels his grin shrink into a small smile as he slips behind you to peer at what you were doing before you passed out. Dozens of polaroid photos are lazily scattered around the desk, each one dated in the corner and signed with your name and a heart.

His eyes scan the sprawling expanse of photos, dating all the way back to just before you'd introduced yourselves to each other.

He carefully plucks the sharpie from your fingers and caps it before slipping an arm under your knees and the other behind your back. Hoisting you up and using his hip to slide the chair back into place under the desk, he watches as you stir in his arms for a moment.

Alastor carries you to bed, laying you down and re-fluffing your blanket so that you can cozy into it. He sweeps your hair from your eyes and leans down to kiss your forehead.

"Sleep well, Cher," he whispers.

He's just about to whisk himself away to get ready to join you in bed when he happens across the photos again. Curiosity washes through him and, nosy as ever, he dares to take a peek at what your little project was all about.

The demon is careful not to nick the photos with his claws as he lightly drags them across the film, tracing each memory you captured.

Your first day at the hotel, dangling between Charlie and Vaggie as they took you in like a lost puppy. He's not in the photo, but he still remembers hearing your laughter from the lobby and thinking it was wonderful.

Your first time doing one of Charlie's ridiculous bonding activities, where you confessed that you had no recollection of your life as a human. It wasn't uncommon for new Sinners to have forgotten their lives, after all.

Your first time letting Angel dress you. He had decided to put you in something tight and revealing... that bastard.

Alastor's fingers stop atop a polaroid dated to when you first became friends.

He's distracted, looking at you with an expression he can't even recognize himself. Brows quirked and smile making his cheeks cherub—you snapped the photo in his moment of vulnerability when he normally would have vanished from it instantly.

He continues tracing your face in chronological order, your smile growing in each. And he's in every single one of them, never looking at the camera but instead distracted by you in some way.

"People told me you never like to take pictures," your voice suddenly startles him. He looks at you over his shoulder in surprise. You blink at him slowly through your bleariness, the same smile he's seen in all the photos gracing your face. "But for some reason, you've always been in mine."

Alastor turns around again to scan across all the polaroids you've taken of him, dating up until just last week when you had surprised him his favourite meal.

For a moment it dawns on him that he, a demon, should never have opened himself up so much to you. That you were his greatest flaw. That he was weak around you. The thought leaves as fast as it came when he realizes how soft his smile had gotten around you.

He can't remember ever being this happy even as a mortal walking the earth.

"Al?" You say quietly, now sitting up in bed alert and awake from his uncharacteristic silence.

He's still for another second. Then, he swipes the camera from the desk and makes his way to your side. You barely have time to register what he's doing before the light flashes and the shutter clicks.

The picture prints slow enough for you to finally realize that you had been the subject of his photo.

"What was that for?" You giggle, rubbing your eyes from the blinding light.

Alastor takes the picture and slips it into his pocket.

"I want to remember this," he tells you with a kiss to the top of your head. "A memory for me to keep, dearest."

~

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[undercoveravenger]

Room in The Den

Pairing: Hybrid!141 x Male!Reader

A/N: Intended as an early-stages poly relationship, but could also be interpreted as platonic.

-----

It’s a bullshit new law that does it. Some asshole lawmakers deciding that just because there’s some small fraction of animal DNA in them that they can’t do their jobs right without “an actual person” watching over them that gets you assigned to the 141.

Sure, joining a team that elite is an honor, but it’s something you’d have wanted by your own merits, not just because someone who’d never seen real combat in their lives thought your new colleagues needed someone fully human to reel them in. 

You’ve seen their numbers - they don’t need you and you’re sure as hell they don’t want you encroaching on the bond that their experiences have fostered between them. That’s why you come in expecting the animosity. 

You were right. Captain Price is cordial enough, he shakes your hand without crushing it and says he’s eager to work with you but his smile doesn’t meet his eyes and the terseness in his voice tells you he’s just saying it to be polite. He’s run this task force long enough to know how to do his job without you there. His Lieutenant doesn’t even grant you that. The sergeants seem wary and you don't blame them but you know that it’s better to be someone like you that knows their worth than one of the holier-than-thou bureaucrats they’d been considering assigning to this post, so you’ll just have to try to find your place in the team.

-----

Soap is the easiest to win over. He finds you in the gym one night long after everyone else had retired back to their bunks, ripping through reps at the bench press without a spotter. He’s thrown for a minute, used to being the only one up this late since the rest of the squad is mostly diurnal, but he’s content enough to admire the way your compression shirt is darkened with sweat and to watch your muscles shift with each movement. Can feel himself drooling a little at the spice of your scent, heady and masculine and tempting enough to make him want to bite.

 He wonders a little, whether you’d be able to keep up with him and he can’t help the steady pace his tail picks up behind him as he decides he’s going to find out.

You’ve got your eyes closed and earbuds in like you’re the only one for miles and yet you still seem to sense him as he drops his bag and moves to stand near you. 

“S’dangerous,” he says as you re-rack your weights and pull an earbud out, “To lift without someone to spot you.” 

You nod, it’s one of the biggest rules of gym safety for a reason, but you’d never been great with rules. “Never much liked askin’ for help,” you admit after a minute. “Didn’t wanna bother anyone.”

He hums, and you don’t feel judged, just understood, “Well, you’re stuck with the lot o’ us now, whether you like it or not,” he grins, wolfish and happy, and moves to stand at the head of the bench to spot you, “Bother away.” And just like that, you’ve got yourself a new workout buddy.

It’s like he’s your self appointed shadow after that, waiting outside your door every morning with a freshly made protein shake in each hand, one for each of you. He’ll get all whiny about it too if you say no, pointy wolf ears drooping and tail falling still behind him. He looks like he’s about to cry until you finally relent and take yours from him (he perks up right away every time, the little faker). Eventually you learn that it’s easier to just take it from him without the fight and let him ramble on about whatever he’d seen on tiktok the night before as he walks you to your office.

He joins you for meals too, complains about the amount of food on your plate and scoops bites off his own plate to supplement yours despite your protests. His Ma had always told him growin’ up that he had to eat plenty of protein if he wanted to be big and strong and protect his pack, so he’s just tryin’ to do the same for you and doesn’t understand why you feel the need to argue about sharing food.

You’re part of his pack now, and Soap’ll be damned before he neglects one of his packmates, just don’t be surprised if he starts bullying his way into your room at night too - he’s a cuddler.

-----

Gaz warms up to you next, though he always blames the blood loss if someone asks what won him over. He’d joined you and Soap for your evening workouts a few times, and grinned at each other when you passed in the halls, but it’s not until the morning after a brutal op that he really starts to see you as part of the team.

It’s early. Barely three-thirty in the morning when the heli touches down and maybe only four when the squad tumbles through the doors but you’re right there with the rest of them. Price is already headed down to the administrative wing for a debrief and Ghost has a snoring Soap over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes on his way to the barracks, and then there’s just the two of you.

You’ve got one of Gaz’s arms over your shoulder and an arm heavy around his waist, tucked snug under his bleeding wing, taking most of his weight as you help him limp through the halls. You hang a left instead of the right that would lead to the infirmary, instead guiding him into your office. You sweep whatever paperwork had been on your desk aside, and help him up to sit, legs hanging off one side of your desk and wings cascading over the other.

You’re quick to shrug off the outer layer of your tactical gear and cast it aside, pulling out a sizable med kit from under your desk and settling on your knees in front of him. You ask him if it’s okay, before you help ease his cargo pants down enough to get to the wound on his thigh and he finds himself taken aback since their usual medic would just muscle them off or cut them away to get at it. You wait until he nods to start tugging at the fabric, fingers careful and intent as you work the material free from the torn flesh. 

He watches as your gaze flickers over the wound and you reach for what you need without even looking. He’s been told his eyes are intense before, it’s normal for bird of prey hybrids, perhaps especially so for golden eagle hybrids like him, but he’s never quite understood the way people describe being pinned in place by his gaze until now. 

You work fast, sterilizing, stitching, and then bandaging his wound with a speed that would rival the military doctors in the infirmary, and the stitches seem more sturdy than he can remember his last ones being. 

Once you’re satisfied with his leg, you stand and move behind him to get a better look at his wing. He'd taken a bullet to it, right through the meat of the muscle, and he knew he’d be grounded a long while until it healed. You hesitated then, unsure if he’d be okay with you touching such a personal area as his wings. 

Gaz swallows hard, trying to think of the last time someone other than himself had handled his wings, and nudges it back into your hands. You’re remarkably gentle, he thinks, as your fingers card delicately through rich caramel feathers until you’re able to uncover the bullet hole. You use a pair of tweezers, to make sure that there are no lingering bits of shrapnel, and a tiny set of scissors to trim back any of the soft downy feathers that could catch in the wound as it heals. 

He’s started churring by the time you’re done, a sort of contented trill from the feeling of someone else preening his wings, despite the lingering pain from the injuries. His golden eyes snap back to focus as you nudge a water bottle and granola bar into his hands with a muttered apology that it was all you had on hand, and he’s still plenty happy because you’re trying to be part of his flock by preening him and providing for him. He churs the whole while as you guide him back to his room and help him into bed.

Gaz quickly becomes a regular participant of you and Soap’s late night gym sessions and joins you for mealtimes once in a while after that night.

-----

Truthfully, you still don’t know what convinced Ghost you were worth knowing, but he supposes that’s because you hadn’t known he was there. He’d been on his way to deliver a mission report from Price to one of the other admin when one of his rounded ears caught the sound of your raised voice. His curiosity drew him to the door, cracked just enough that he was able to see you stood across a table from a trio of generals, arms crossed and back straight. 

“I appreciate your congratulations,” you growled, and Ghost was taken aback by the ferocity in your voice. He’d never heard you speak like that before, not even in the field. “But I am not the one who should be hearing it.”

His ears prick forward, tugging against the thick fabric of his mask as he listened closer, intrigued. 

“With all due respect, Major, task force 141-” one of the pencil pushers started.

“No,” you interrupted, hands coming down hard on the desk between you and the other officers, “They are due the commendations. They are the ones who built this team from the ground up. Sure, there have been successful missions since my joining, but those are not only my achievements. If you want to offer a public congratulations on a successful operation, it will be to my entire team, not just the picture you think would be easiest to publish.”

With that, you turn from the board of your superior officers and head for the door, ignoring their protests, and Ghost has to scramble back in order to avoid being hit with the door. 

“Sorry, Lieutenant,” you say as you see him, moving out of his way. “Didn’t see you there,” and for once that doesn’t sound like some slight against his panther genetics, just a plain statement - he’d been behind the door and you hadn’t meant to nearly clip him with it. You clap him on the shoulder and head off down the hall back toward your office and Ghost is tempted to drop the file where he stands to follow you, one simple interaction you hadn’t meant for him to see enough to convince him there was far more to you than he’d thought. 

You weren’t just some babysitter added to their little family to observe them like they were no more than wild animals - you actually saw their worth and were willing to fight for it?

An amused little huff escapes him and Ghost forces his attention back to the task at hand, spotted tail lashing smoothly behind him as he turns and continues on his way, sharp claws digging puncture wounds into the folder he’d been sent to deliver and your words ringing in his mind.  

----

Price was the last to come around to you being a part of their little family, though he’d never been outright hostile the way Ghost had at first. He’d done his best to be professional with you, complying with the needed paperwork and taking your insights on each operation under consideration, though he never deliberately sought you out. 

That didn’t mean he could avoid you when the team had a mission though, especially not now with the five of you piled into a much-too-small cabin in the mountains near where intel suggested one of Makarov’s bases were. Laswell had just radioed in to let Price know there was a snowstorm incoming so evac might be delayed and to expect to hunker down at least another two nights.

With only two bedrooms and a total of three small beds between them, you’d volunteered to take up roost on the lumpy couch in the living room so he’s not surprised to see you there, so much as he is by your company. You’re sprawled out in about the middle of the couch with Gaz tucked comfortably against your side, your arm around his shoulder and one of his wings curling around the both of you. As Gaz’s wing shifts, Price notices Soap curled against your legs, snoring away, but he freezes as he sees Ghost.

Everyone on the team has gone through hell, but Price knows Ghost has dealt with more than his share. Nightmares aren’t uncommon for any of them, but for Ghost a decent night’s sleep was an incredible rarity. That’s why he’s so startled to see Ghost stretched comfortably along the rest of the couch with his head on your lap and his face nuzzled into your stomach, skull mask gone in favor of his more casual balaclava, and his breathing deep and even.

A pleased little huff escapes Price, warmth spreading in his chest at the sight of his three favorite people curled up together happy and comfortable. And if you were part of that? Well, there was plenty of room for one more in that old bear’s heart.

[sushiyuzu]

“don’t let him stare at you like that.”

nanami kento x fem!reader

warning: soft smut — kento being jealous and possessive in heat. minors dni!

- backup acc: @blushpawss

you sit across from kento, the flickering candlelight casting a warm glow on his chiseled features. he’s dressed in a tailored suit that accentuates his broad shoulders, and you can’t help but admire how handsome he looks tonight.

you guys are in a restaurant, which kento—like a gentleman—had taken you out for a fancy dinner earlier to strengthen the bond between the two of you. the venue buzzes softly around you, the low hum of conversations blending with the clinking of silverware.

you feel the soft lace of your red mermaid dress hug your curves, the fabric accentuating every movement. as you lean forward to speak, you catch kento’s gaze lingering on your neckline, his expression a mix of admiration and something more primal. the moment feels electric, charged with an unspoken tension that makes your heart race.

but then, you notice the waiter. he’s handsome, with a charming smile, and he seems to pay a little too much attention to you. you feel a flicker of discomfort when kento’s demeanor shifts. his jaw tightens, and you can see the irritation flashing in his eyes. it’s subtle, but it’s there, a protective instinct bubbling just beneath the surface.

“are you enjoying the food?” kento asks, his voice smooth but edged with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

“it’s delicious,” you reply, trying to maintain the lightness of the moment, but you can feel the heat radiating from him. he leans closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “just don’t let him stare at you like that.”

the possessiveness in his tone sends a thrill through you, and you nod, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. it’s thrilling and intoxicating, knowing that he’s so affected by this. as the dinner progresses, kento’s hand finds yours across the table. his fingers intertwine with yours, his touch firm yet tender, grounding you amidst the growing tension. you can feel the heat radiating from him, a simmering intensity that makes you acutely aware of every brush of his skin against yours. the air around you feels thick with desire, and you can’t help but lean closer, drawn to him.

as the waiter comes to take your plates, kento’s eyes never leave you, his expression dark and possessive. you can see the tension coiling within him, and it only makes you want him more. after the waiter leaves, he leans in, his breath warm against your ear, whispering, “you look so beautiful tonight. i can’t take my eyes off you.”

the compliment sends a shiver down your spine. you can feel your heart racing in response to his words, the way his gaze roams over your body like he’s memorizing every detail. when the meal is finally over, kento stands, his eyes dark with a mix of jealousy and need. he gestures for you to follow him, and as you step outside, the cool evening air contrasts sharply with the warmth of the restaurant. but the chill doesn’t last long; kento pulls you close, his body heat enveloping you.

“i couldn’t stand the way he looked at you,” he admits, his voice low and gravelly, as he backs you against the wall of the restaurant. the intensity in his gaze makes your breath hitch, and your heart races as he leans in, brushing his lips against your neck.

you shiver at the contact, feeling both vulnerable and exhilarated. kento’s breath is warm against your skin as he whispers, “you’re mine. no one else can look at you like that.”

his lips find yours in a heated kiss, filled with urgency and need. he kisses you deeply, pouring all his frustration and desire into that single moment. you respond eagerly, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer as his kisses grow more fervent, trailing down to your collarbone.

“kento,” you breathe, feeling the weight of his body pressing against you, heat pooling in your belly as his mouth travels lower. he teases the edge of your dress, fingertips brushing against your soft skin, igniting every nerve ending.

“what do you want, baby?” he murmurs against your collarbone, his warm breath sending goosebumps across your skin. “tell me.”

“i want you,” you gasp, desperation evident in your voice, and the raw need in your words makes his gaze darken with desire.

“you want me to take you right here?” he teases, biting down lightly on your shoulder, his teeth leaving a mark that makes your breath hitch. “so everyone can see how much you belong to me?”

the thrill of his words sends a jolt of excitement through you, and you nod, heart racing at the thought.

“yes, please,” you whisper, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

kento captures your lips again, his hands roaming down your body, gripping your waist as he pushes you further against the wall. the heat radiating from him mingles with the tension in the air, making you feel alive. he breaks the kiss and moves lower, his lips trailing down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, leaving small bites that sting and thrill all at once.

“i want everyone to see the marks i leave on you,” he growls, and with a swift motion, he pulls your dress down slightly, exposing more of your skin. his lips find the soft flesh of your breasts, kissing and biting, leaving deep red hickeys that will bloom like flowers in the days to come.

“kento!” you gasp, feeling a mix of pleasure and embarrassment as he lavishes attention on your breasts. his mouth works expertly, teasing you with bites and kisses that make you writhe against him, desperate for more.

“you like that, don’t you?” he smirks, looking up at you with darkened eyes, his voice dripping with teasing dominance. “you love it when I mark you as mine.”

you can barely respond, the pleasure overwhelming you as he continues to nip and suck, leaving marks that scream of possession. the way he focuses on your breasts, the heat of his mouth, and the pressure of his teeth only heighten your desire.

“you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, almost reverently, as he pulls back slightly to admire the marks he’s left on your skin. “i want to see you like this all the time.”

with a low growl, he captures your lips once more, his kiss more demanding this time, as if he’s trying to consume you whole. he presses his body against yours, and you can feel the hard evidence of his desire pressing into your thigh, intensifying your own need for him.

“let’s get out of here,” he breathes against your mouth, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he leads you down the street, the cool air contrasting sharply with the heat radiating from your bodies.

he pulls you into a nearby alley, the darkness enveloping you both, a thrill coursing through you at the secrecy of it all. kento presses you against the cool brick wall, his lips crashing against yours again with a fervor that leaves you breathless.

“i’ve been thinking about this all night,” he growls, his hands roaming down your body, exploring every curve. he teases the hem of your dress, fingers brushing against your thighs, making you ache for more.

“please,” you whisper, desperation lacing your voice, and he gives you a wicked smile, knowing just how to push you to the edge.

“please what?” he challenges, pulling back to search your eyes, his expression one of mischief and desire.

“please don’t stop,” you plead, and that’s all the encouragement he needs to resume kissing you, pouring all his longing and passion into the moment, making it impossible for you to think about anything else but him.

“i’ll give you everything you want, but you have to promise me something,” he says, his voice low and serious as he pulls back to meet your gaze.

“what?” you breathe, heart racing, anticipation thrumming through your veins.

“promise me you’ll scream my name when i make you feel good,” he says with a smirk, and your breath hitches at his words, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks.

“i promise,” you reply breathlessly, and he crashes his mouth against yours once more, sealing the promise with a heated kiss.

in this alley, under the stars, you lose yourselves in each other, and nothing else exists.

[nsfwruru]

Can you do a perv g!p Sakura x innocent fem 6th member?? I honestly can’t describe anymore lol so yea 😭

Idol!Miyawaki Sakura (g!p) x Idol!reader

Sakura has gotta be the most perverted mf you’ve ever lived with, she’s stealing your shit, thinking about you, all the while she’s rubbing one out. She also literally can’t keep her hands to herself, and needs to be checked out for like brain damage or something.

cw: smut, porn with plot (pervy!sakura, dubcon?, creampies, riding, mentions of hentai, dom!kkura, cumplay, thigh fucking, eating out), not proofread, naive!reader, reader is part of lesserafim but generally only lives with sakura

Sakura Miyawaki, being generally the same age as her, you thought you’d both have a lot in common, I mean at face value you both did. You loved music, started your career at a young age, was more secluded from the rest of the functioning world than others, loved manga and anime alike, everything was so compatible between the two of you! It was almost a match made in heaven when it was time to choose the dormitory situations, and you both chose each other of course.

Naturally having moved in together, the first few weeks weren’t all that bad as you found yourself hanging out with her a lot more. Either that be cooking together after a long practice, sitting on her lap while she played overwatch, and even helping her out with the laundry and such. You thought all was going well until suddenly after all those affectionate moments and bonding times, she abruptly stopped hanging around you. Being more reclusive day by day, and being glued on her phone, or glued on her computer, completely ignoring your existence in the dormitory.

This was also around the same time some of your nick-nacks went missing, for example it was something small like maybe a hair tie you left on the counter, or even towels you left outside to dry after a shower. It wasn’t all that concerning cause you could always get another towel or hair tie, but you found it especially odd that even some of your clothes and undergarments went missing.

Whenever you asked your sweet darling roommate about it, she’d brush it off, saying something along the lines of. “Oh look at you being forgetful again!” Or “Maybe Yunjin or Zuha took em’ you know how they are.” Only for the missing items to return back to its rightful spot days later, as if nothing had ever happened.

But don’t fret, she was still that lovable older sister figure whenever you where on set, or whenever you did shots with the other girls, making sure the coddle you the most in front of other people. She would’ve even chew other people out whenever they tried coming close to you, almost as if she was a guard dog protecting her precious bone. Which made your emotions conflict even more whenever you’d arrive back home and try to be friendly, just for her the shoo you away and retreat back to her room to play games or whatever.

You genuinely thought she hated you all of the sudden behind closed doors, although little did you know that presumption was oh so wrong. She didn’t want you to know that whenever those bedroom doors lock, Sakura would pull out the latest new item she’d stolen from you and take a whiff of your scent off of it.

If it was something that was easily moveable, she would wrap it around her thick length, while reading one of those filthy mangas she loved so much, thinking it was you fucking yourself on her dick, instead of this uncomfortable towel fabric. She had no common decency, having no concern that she was cumming all over your stuff, while reading hentai, while thinking about you. Sakura literally didn’t even care if you heard you or not, even when you are at home, working on your journal or something, she’s groaning out your name.

Even then you were so concerned that you did something wrong, that you started going out and getting groceries to cook for her every night. Sometimes being so exhausted from practice you’d cook her a nice hot meal she’d love so much, and pass out on your bed. Sakura noticed all your efforts but instead of telling you that she was never mad in the first place, she’d continue the charade and let you do girlfriend things to please her and make her happy again, just because it turned her on even further.

She wanted to see how far you could go to make her happy, that she started calculating every speech and movement she did to see if you’d pay attention to what she wanted you to do. Moreover, Sakura had learnt these tactics from one of her highly exploitative mangas, using typical methodical porn tactics to fuck with your innocent little brain.

Sakura would subtly hint that she wasn’t gonna be mad at you, unless you started wearing those skimpy maid dresses that she bought you. And being the innocent people pleaser you were, you’d change out of your normal house clothes into the ones she gave you, under the guise it was “normal japanese pajamas.” Not being as chronically online as her, you thought nothing of it, slowly starting to wear the costumes she got you…all the time.

She felt like she was living her most deprived fantasies through you, for her, you were practically just a walking sex doll she couldn’t touch, not just yet. After all of this, she was starting to warm up to you again, little did you know this was all part of the plan to get you fucked up on her.

Ever single moment you spent trying to please her, the harder she got by the moment, it was hard to keep her boner under wraps whenever you’d wear those cute little short skirts while you sat nicely on her lap. Or how she’d subtly grind, and dry hump your ass whenever you were bent down cooking in the kitchen. All of these factors where things you choose to ignore because this was all for your precious roommate.

Sakura, being the perverted oldest she was, would sneak into your room at night, and take raunchy photos whenever she could whenever you slept. All to scurry back to her bedroom and use it as fap material once more.

It all came to a boiling point when you were rubbing your ass against her innocently, during one of her classic shooter gaming sessions. Her microphone which was on while she talked with her other teammates, was all of the sudden off. She began to place the headphone down onto the desk slowly letting it rest it atop the table.

With a lack of communication she lifted your waist off her hips and back down onto the exact placement of her rager was “Fuck Y/N baby, I can’t hold it anymore, don’t you know how hard you make me?” Sakura would bite back, watching you grind over her cock slowly, urging you to feel her.

“Kkura—! What the hell are you doing? Let go of me, it feels weird.” You’d plead, not liking the sensation it was bringing you whenever your cunt would graze upon her fabric boxers. Which was the only thing she would wear whenever she’d asked you to sit on her lap.

It didn’t make the situation better when you realized her hardened cock covered in a light piece of fabric, was making direct contact with your underwear as you had been forced to put on such skimpy skirt. The friction causing you to dig your nails into her knees, causing a halt to any further movement, this obviously ticked Sakura off, as her hands slid their way to her waist, digging into your skin harshly.

“Shit, don’t stop moving you dumb fuckin’ whore, your the one who’s been making me feel this way all the time, don’t you think I need a little compensation?” Sakura groaned, pulling down her boxers to reveal her hardened cock, she didn’t take a single second of waste, before sliding it in between your thighs and right in front of you slick panties, which was damp with wetness from your cunt. Instead of fucking you brainless here and now she wanted to take her sweet time.

Slowly thrusting into your thighs like a dirty dog, she leaned you over her keyboard as she continued to pleasure herself. Using your plush thighs almost like a fuck toy, she was letting out the purest, loudest groans she could ever formulate. The way her length worked its way in and out of your thighs as she held you up, fucking into you, letting the precum build on top of the tip of her cock, made the dampness of your panties darken. “Kkura, wait this is wrong— we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Well you shoudnt have been teasin’ me this whole time bitch. Walking around all dolled up with those dresses I gave you— hah, fuck that’s good.” She groaned, unable to finish her words as she quickened her pace, working her way into your thighs, only imagining if it was your sweet pussy instead, but cumming on your thighs was good too. “Oh shit! Fuck!” She grunted out, rutting into your thighs.

Her cum splattered all over your stomach and thighs, fucking slowly into you as she finished, her wet, sticky, fluids plastered all over your freshly cleaned body made you sick to your stomach. You didn’t know your roommate, let alone your member was capable of doing something like this, despite repeatedly telling her not to. Before you had time to react and wipe all the shit off of you, she’s pulling your panties down hungrily.

“Sakura! Enough!” You pleaded with her, all the while she’s rolling her eyes at your demands, because how can a slut like you ask for anything. Sakura brings you up and pushed you down on the desk, having no concern that your tits are literally resting on the keyboard and your face is almost pushed up against the monitor screen. She’s been waiting for this moment her whole entire life, but she isn’t cruel, she wants to get you prepped up before she fucks you so good you can’t walk anymore.

Bringing her face down to your pussy, she begins to do soft kitten licks onto the folds, examining each and every crack as she spreads you wide open. Her tongue darting into wherever it can, trying to bring all the juices out from you as a sort of lubricant for what she was going to do next. Finally after eating you out for what seemed like hours, and letting you cum on her tongue a couple of times, she left one last kiss before pulling away. “Mhm baby, I think you’re all ready now.” Due to your own pleasure you failed to notice how she was jerking herself off every time she made contact with your pussy, cumming whenever you were, completely just enthralled with the view.

Bringing herself back up and lining her dick into your entrances, she lets out a low, instinctual growl, before slowly pushing herself in. The mix of your already overstimulated body, and her unexplainable girth, caused you to shake uncontrollably, your head peeking up when she fully bottomed herself out into you. “Ah! Fuck— mmpfh— Kkura!”

Your words were slurred, her name rolling off your tongue so easily, with every thrust a new hiccuped moan would intervene. The noises of skin slapping one another, and the gushes of your inside made Sakura want to bust in you then and there, though, she desperately wanted to hear more of you. Sakura rolled her eyes back from how nicely you were taking her at that moment, pounded into you until it was nothing but your voice calling out to her that filled the room.

“Shit, your so tight, fuckin’ whore” She grunted underneath her breath, each word following a harsh slam into your cervix. Her breathing became more rugged as she continued, the pounding less calculated, and the knot in your stomach threatened to unwind. Taking a fist full of your hair into her palms, Sakura pushed your head onto the monitor screen, giving her the ability to push deeper into your guts you didn’t know she could reach.

Your body, one that was once filled with so much pain and discomfort, was now truly fully consumed with pleasure and ecstasy. The squelching noises filled the room, her names rolled off your tongue so easily, “Saku, mhm…”

She had no choice but to use this as leverage, maybe even confirmation that you wanted this too, her boner twitching at the thought of doing this again, and again… and again. Sakura, pulled her hands up towards your face and inserted her fingers into your mouth, as you felt her climax come closer and closer.

Your hips grinded all over hers, liking the way her dick warmed up every single inch of you, until your felt your knees buckle at the sensation. “Mpphm!” You moan out, your sounds muffled by Sakura, as her fingers where still pushed into to base of your tongue, making you unable to formulate coherent sentences. Your juices coating her member, leaving a slight stream of wetness running down your leg as Sakura fucking you through your high.

“Good girl, cum— cum for me baby.” She groaned, continuing to fuck into your overstimulated cunt until she reached her sweet release. With a few more heavy slams, you felt Sakura’s ruthless rhythm falter, she took the primal instinctive to pull you up by your hair, watching you intently as she dumped the rest of her cum inside of you.

Pushing your lips together as she bottomed you out, still yanking at your hair, she let a glob of spit run into your mouth as she pulled away. Pushing your head down to the monitor once more as she got up, and off of you, the sensation of her living your gummy insides sent a shiver down your spine, but you where too fucked out of your mind to comment on that. “Fuckin’ slut, took this long to fuck you when you clearly wanted it as much as I do.”

She stood up and grabbed her boxers, pulling them back onto herself before taking in the sight in front of her. The roommate and bandmate she so desperately wanted to fuck for months, was sprawled onto her gaming desk like this was an artwork in itself. “Shit bitch you look good like this, get ready for tomorrow, I wanna do this again.” She chirped, leaning down to look at your dazed state before leaving a peck on your forehead, pulling away and scurrying out of the room like nothing happened.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Princesse's Halloween

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The sixth of my Halloween-centric fics

"You're saying this is a family tradition?" Talia asks, one brow raised in confusion as you gather Kung up in your lap to feed him treats.

"Yes."

"And your mums did this all the time?"

"Yes," You laugh," Right up until I was born. Then they had to include me in it."

"And they just choose each other's costumes? Nothing fancy? And the other person has to wear it?"

"Yes."

Talia grins, looking you up and down and you get the funny feeling that you're missing something.

"Do you want to do?"

"I would love to do it." You girlfriend practically purrs out the words and now you definitely know you're missing something.

But Kung thumps his foot and Reina hisses on the balcony at the neighbours and Prins whines to go on his walk and you forget all about the look Talia had on her face when you told her about your family tradition.

It doesn't even come to mind again until you're welcoming your mothers in the day before Halloween.

"Oh," Talia says, throwing her bag down onto a spare chair as she comes in from her media commitments.

She's had a lot of those now that she's the Barcelona captain and you're secretly very thankful you don't have a captaincy. You don't know if you'd make a very good captain.

It's a dream, of course. Every wannabe footballer, pictures captaining their club and their country but you don't know if anyone would ever see you as a leader like that.

It's one thing to captain a youth team. It's something completely different to captain a senior team.

"I didn't realise you guys were coming today," Talia continues," I thought you were coming in a few days?"

"You'd be surprised by how many flights are packed after Halloween," Pernille throws over her shoulder, having completely taken over the stove in the short time she's been in your apartment.

Magda's over by one of the shelves, staring intently at Rocky like she's willing him to blow up with her eyes. "It's awful. There was a baby on our flight. It wouldn't stop crying. Who brings a baby into business class?"

You laugh. "You've gotten grumpy in your old age, Morsa," You say fondly.

"We didn't travel with you at all!"

"You did," You say," I used to go to camp with Momma."

Magda flicks her hand dismissively. "Yeah but you were a well behaved baby. You barely cried." She looks over at Talia, nose wrinkled. "I bet you cried a lot."

Talia grins, more of a smirk really as Reina clambers all over her. "And tantrums. They're the stuff of legend in my family. Completely blew Patri's tantrums out of the water."

"Yeah, well-"

"Must you two do this every time?" Pernille asks, plating up food and opening some drinks. "We get it. You're 'enemies'. Can we just skip this bit and get to the point where you're bonding over being remarkably similar?"

Talia and Magda exchange a look.

"You always ruin my fun," Magda complains good-naturedly, sitting down at the table," But fine. Only because I love you." She leans over to kiss Pernille square on the lips.

"Hey!" You say," If you banned PDA for us, no PDA for you! No kissing at my table!"

The meal is delicious as always.

Talia doesn't think for a moment that Magda was the better cook from your childhood no matter how many times you insist she was.

After cleaning up and a few movies, you finally remember that look a few weeks ago. The look that Talia gave you when she agreed to pick out your costume this year.

Magda and Pernille had gone first with Pernille choosing a cute tiger onesie for Magda and Magda choosing a massive, inflatable chicken costume for Pernille that nearly didn't fit through the doorway when she came in wearing it.

You'd chosen a fairly goofy looking vampire costume for your own girlfriend, complete with a set of fangs that glow in the dark.

It's only when you get changed into the costume that Talia chose for you, that you remember that god awful smirk she wore when you explained to her your family tradition.

"Er..." You look at yourself in the mirror, trying to pull down the skirt of your nurse's outfit. "Talia, are you sure this is everything? It's...Kind of short..."

You can hear Talia cough, movement outside the door and then her head is popping in.

"I...er...bought this before I found out your parents were coming. You look good though."

"So I take it this is the full costume."

"You look very good as a sexy nurse," Talia says, grinning back at you in the mirror.

You purse your lips in thought. "Yes, I do." You turn, passing her in the doorway. "I'm looking forward to hearing how you're going to explain this one to my mothers."

[missadangel]

The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x OC)

All Chapters List

IX. The Rage (+18, Smut, MDNI)

GIF -- manny-jacinto

"Aut inveniam viam aut faciam.”

I shall either find a way or make one.

H.

“Can I just ask where we're going so early?” You asked Marcus that morning.

“Patience, my lady."

After you woke up, while you were lying on the bed, resting your head on his chest, he told you that he had something he wanted to show you, before you had even had a chance to eat breakfast. You were even more surprised when Marcus grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the courtyard of the villa, towards the stables. The slaves were feeding the horses their morning meal, and the horses were consuming their food with growls and much appetite. It was breakfast time for the chickens in the hen house as well. Decima was feeding them, saw you from a distance, ceased her work and bowed to you. You could tell from her smile that she was aware of everything that was going on. You noticed that you had never set foot on this side of the villa before. The General had specifically instructed them not to tire you out when you were here as his slave, so you had never had any work to do out here. You smiled as you recalling those times. Remembering, how you had shied away from him at first, but then how you had fallen in love with him as you came to know his softer side day by day.

A slave brought Marcus's horse Dromos from the stables, and Marcus grabbed his reins with a big, beaming smile. Dromos whinnied, and Marcus stroked his face, chuckling. There was a special bond between them that went beyond the typical horse-and-rider relationship. While you were admiring them, Marcus looked at you, pulled the reins, and stepped towards you, holding his hand out warmly.

"My lady, I believe you remember Dromos."

"Indeed I do, how are you Dromos?" You took Marcus's hand and stroked the horse's neck with the other.

He lifted one leg and stamped his hoof and whinnied. You smiled, his warm furry skin was soothing.

"It seems he missed you." Marcus smiled and then looked at something behind you. "Now, we've got some riding to do," he said, straightening Dromos' saddle.

You nodded and approached the horse, but Marcus gently touched your arm to stop you. You looked at him in surprise. He looked at the other side of the stables and pointed with his finger.

‘Your horse is over there,’ he said.

You turned your head slightly and saw Cato first. He was making his way towards you with a horse that was particularly striking, with white hair that shone like satin in the sunlight. The horse lifted its head and let out a soft whinny as its white mane blew gently in the breeze. As it drew closer, its gaze turned towards you, and you were struck by its undeniable beauty. Although you were not particularly knowledgeable about horses, you could say that this snow-white animal was not your typical equine. It seemed to have been meticulously selected. With some hesitation, you reached out and gently stroked the horse's neck, running your fingers through its lustrous pearl-white mane. There was a captivating elegance in this magnificent creature.

“She's beautiful,” you murmured.

“A rare one, just like my beautiful wife,” Marcus said, his eyes meeting yours as he approached. He was smiling warmly. He put his fingers right next to yours. The white horse lifted one of its hind legs, hit it on the ground, and moved a little as if it wanted you to ride on it.

“Bridal gift for you, I didn't have a chance to introduce you two before. Are you pleased?”

You gazed at him and found yourself once more swept up in your feelings for him. His charms were undeniable. With each passing day, your love for him deepens. You wondered how he managed to make you feel this way.

“Marcus, this is the best gift I've ever received in my life. I am immensely grateful." You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his chest. He put his arms around you.

“I am more grateful, my love." He gave you a little kiss on the top of your head. “Besides, you need to learn to ride by yourself.” He stroked your hair with his fingers. “Do you feel ready to ride together with me?”

You nodded, “Yes, but I'm not that good. I only rode once or twice back then in Egypt.”

“You'll learn in time. Now I want you to place your foot in the stirrup and mount by yourself. Can you do it?”

You put your foot in the stirrup as he said and looked at him. The horse moved a little, which made you stagger.

"Just make sure it's firm, then grab the saddle and climb up."

You grabbed the saddle and pulled yourself up as hard as you could, then settled down. However, the horse moved and you leaned forward to grasp the reins, your head close to her mane, feeling the wind on your cheeks. You probably looked a bit strange.

Marcus let out a chuckle. “Make sure you're sitting up straight and in control. Keep a firm grip on the reins.”

“But, she’s moving too much, she's not staying still, I'm afraid of falling.” You complained.

“Then you need to calm her down. Give her a gentle pat on the neck with your hand and reassure her by gripping the reins firmly. She needs to know you're in control.”

When you did as he said, you saw that the horse had calmed down, so you gathered your courage, sat up straight, grabbed the reins with both hands and gave them a little tug. It felt great to be in control, and you smiled at Marcus.

"I did it!"

"You haven't even started riding yet, princess."

Your smile faded. "Oh, right. How am I supposed to do that?"

Marcus laughed. "Gently squeeze the horse's ribcage with the calves of your legs to cue her to move forward.”

Your body tensed up a bit as the horse moved forward, but you quickly regained your composure and excitement replaced your fear. It was a great feeling. The horse kept on going, so you turned your head to look at him, but Marcus was already mounted on his horse and came towards you.

“Well done, my lady.” He smirked. “Come now, pick up the pace, follow my lead,” Marcus gripped the reins tighter and gave Dromos a little pat on the rump, and the horse started to gallop. As the distance between you and Marcus increased, you did the same, and with the sudden burst of speed, you swayed, your heart pounding. The wind was blowing your hair and caressing your face, which felt amazing.

“Marcus! Wait for me!" You called out to him, and he looked back at you with that childish smile on his face. It was clear he was enjoying himself, and you were no exception. You felt the same sense of exhilaration riding with him. There is no feeling in the world that can compare to the freedom you experience when traveling on horseback through the trees.

"My Lady! We're nearly there!" Marcus pointed up the hill a little later. Since you had learned to control it, you pulled the reins in the direction you wanted to go and stroked her belly a little and she immediately fulfilled your wishes. You smiled, pleased with yourself. As if you had won a victory. Marcus slowed his horse and circled the area he had indicated, waiting for you. You pulled the reins firmly and your horse neighed, lifted its legs slightly, and stopped. Marcus looked satisfied.

“You are a quick learner, princess.” He said, dismounting and leading Dromos to a nearby tree.

“I think she likes me too,” you said, sliding your leg over her back to dismount and jumping down.

“Would you perhaps like to name her?” Marcus stepped towards you.

“Yes, I was thinking, um. Since she’s so pure and white, I'd like to call her Unio (pearl).”

He nodded. “Clever, well suited,” He then grabbed Unio's reins and tied them to the same tree.

You became aware of the river at the bottom of the hill. It was the Tiber. Just ahead, you could discern the silhouette of the great city, which appeared to be quite beautiful. Also, It was a delight to behold the enormous structure from a distance once more, as you set foot on the very ground from which you had previously observed it from the balcony of the Domus Severiana.

Marcus approached behind you and wrapped his arms around you, placing his head on your shoulder.

“This is where I come every night and think of you looking up there.”

You turned your head towards him. He was pointing to the Domus Severiana.

“Every night?”

“That's true.’ His lips hovered over your cheekbone, his eyelashes caressed your forehead.

“So was I, looking out from the balcony, trying to make out the villa in the distance and thinking of you.”

He smiled mischievously as he brought his lips closer to yours. “Were you thinking about that blissful night we had too? Those intense moments? Did you desire me as much as I desired you?” He purred, tightened his arms just below your breasts, and pushed them slowly upwards.

Your cheeks flushed and you slapped his shoulder. "Marcus." You whined.

"There's no need to feel ashamed, my love," he said pressing his lips to yours and kissing them lovingly. Then he pulled back. "You must be hungry," he said, taking you by the shoulders and guiding you to sit among the flowers in the meadow. As you looked at him curiously, he turned around and walked back to his horse. He opened the saddlebag. Then stepped towards you with a bundle in his hand.

“Have you brought breakfast for us?” You shot him a look. He sat down next to you, undid the bundle's knot, and took out a loaf of bread and some fruit.

“I told them to prepare it yesterday. Come, have some, you need strength.” He fed you a piece of bread. Then he put his arm around you.

“What do I need strength for?”

“For your training.’’

You swallowed your bite and frowned. “Training?”

He smiled, “Yes."

“So you're pretty adamant about this?”

“I am.” His look was determined indeed.

Once you had eaten enough, Marcus took you by the hand and lifted you up.

"I had something made for you," he said, reaching for the holster on his waist.

"Another present?"

Marcus was holding a scabbard, but it was smaller than a pugio. He crouched down beside you. You flinched when he lifted the hem of your dress and touched your leg.

“What are you doing?” You tried to pull your leg back, but his hand was so strong you couldn't even move it.

“Stay still.” He was tying it a little above your ankle. It was strange to feel the leather fabric on your skin. You moved your leg as Marcus stood up after finishing. You lifted the hem of your dress to observe the scabbard. It wasn't particularly heavy, but it was a little uncomfortable. Seemed like an irrelevant accessory on your ankle.

“Is that a dagger?” You wailed.

“Not exactly, a small knife. I thought you could use it until we get to pugio.”

You lifted and lowered your leg, it was a strange feeling.

“Try pulling it out of its sheath.” His voice was almost commanding.

Marcus the romantic was gone and Acacius the General was here.

You did as he said, grasped the handle of the dagger, and pulled it out of its sheath, a little slowly. Why was it so difficult?

Marcus put both hands on his waist. “Do you think your enemy will wait for you to draw your knife?”

You rolled your eyes. “I'm a medicus, remember? Are you telling me to cut people with this?”

“Cut if you have to, then cure if you wish.” He said with a stubborn temperament.

You laughed, but he didn't. Wasn't it a joke?

“Now hold it out and attack me.”

You opened your eyes wide. “What? Marcus, I can’t.”

“I said do it, Aurelia.”

“What if I hurt you?”

Marcus let out a little laugh, a hint of smugness in his voice. “Don't worry, my lady. You couldn't hurt me even if you wanted to. But you need to learn how to use your knife. Now, attack.”

You did as he said and lunged forward, holding the knife with one hand and making a slashing motion.

He rolled his eyes. “Strike with more power, think of it as having all your strength in your arm.”

You nodded and tried again. Marcus was not satisfied, and inhaled deeply. “The advantage of a short, small knife is that you can change direction more quickly.” He said and grabbed your hand holding the knife and supported your shoulder from behind with his other hand. “But if you have a target to focus on, you should do it like this.” He said and made your knife-holding hand make a fast-forward attack that almost made you stumble. “Like this.” Then he had you take the knife in your other hand. "Then this way." He had you make another attack, this time with a fast-cutting motion. “One, two, three.” Then he had you make a stabbing attack, and he tugged your wrist forward, but his wrist was so strong you stumbled again. Then he stepped back and stood in front of you, spreading his arms. “Now try to attack me once more.”

You raised your arm with determination, but also a hint of hesitation, to attack him. However, he was quick to evade your attack with ease, and you found yourself almost colliding with a nearby tree. You took a moment to collect yourself and then turned to face him.

“Try attacking again.” He said decisively.

This time you lunged at him with all your determination, but he grabbed your wrist and spun you around, almost without moving, and before you knew it, he pulled you towards him, your back slamming into his chest, your knife right next to your neck. His hand was gripping your wrist so tightly it was impossible to move it. You felt his lips on your head, you tried to get out of his arms but he wouldn't let you. “Try a little harder, princess,” he murmured and released you. Then he faced you again, his expression serious as he looked down at your legs.

“Spread your legs properly.” He ordered.

You obey.

“Suck your stomach.”

You breathed deeply and tried to stand up straight.

“Now try it again.”

You did the cutting motions he had just shown you, but for some reason, he still wasn't satisfied. He closed his eyelids tightly and sighed deeply. 

“Why is this so hard,” he muttered. He came over and snatched the knife from your hand and stepped backward. "Watch, how I do it."

He held the knife ready for the attack and skilfully made the same slashing motions as before, coming up beside you. "Do it like this."

His expression was so serious you couldn't help but chuckle.

"Spread your legs, suck your stomach, do it like this," you said, imitating his voice and movements. As you laughed again, his expression softened and he began laughing too.

“You found it quite funny, my lady?”

You were still laughing. “Yes, it was very funny.”

He grinned and extended his hand to you. " I think that's enough for today. Could you lift your dress up so I can put it back."

You took a step backward. "No way, I don't want that sharp thing on my leg." You said it in a slightly joking tone.

He narrowed his eyes and took a step towards you. You took another step back in response.

"I said lift your dress up." His voice was stern and commanding, but his expression was mocking.

‘What if I don't?’ You took a few more steps backward as he was coming towards you.

"Then I'll have to force you to do it."

“Try,” you said, turning on your heel and striding off with a laugh.

Marcus grinned. “As if I can't catch you easily,” he said and started running after you. As you ran as fast as you could across the meadow, he was chasing you.

“You must surrender before you trip and fall, Aurelia!” His voice echoed across the meadow.

"No way, General!" You continued to run, this time you turned the other way, but Marcus was faster. He grabbed you from behind with his strong arms and you giggled and struggled with all your strength. He deliberately let you both fall, and you rolled among the flowers in the meadow. One more roll, you were lying on the ground with Marcus on top of you, gasping for breath. You looked up at him and saw that he was laughing as you were. "I told you I'd find you wherever you ran, my lady," he said and bent his head down and kissed you passionately. You wrapped your arms around his neck and ran your fingers through his hair as Marcus' hand grazed the fabric of your dress sliding it up your leg. You broke the kiss and looked at him in surprise.

"What are you-"

"Easy," he said, and he grabbed your leg, lifted it up, and sheathed the knife. Then he kissed your knee and looked at you.

"Promise me you'll carry this knife when I'm not around." His expression was stern, the kind you couldn't argue with.

You nodded. “I promise.”

He uttered a soft, tender murmur as his fingers stroked your hair. "I truly hope that you never have to use it." Then he kissed you again, with greater intensity this time, conveying the emotion he was feeling to you through his lips. All of sudden, you heard the sound of a pipe echoing in the distance, and he broke the kiss. It seemed to you that the sound of the drums and pipes preceded the public announcement. You both turned your heads in that direction, it sounded more like a murmur through the meadow.

“It must be almost time for the game to start,” Marcus muttered.

You let out a sigh. “I really don't want to go,” you whined, glancing at the silhouette of the Colosseum.

Marcus turned his head towards you and helped you sit down. “I don't want to provide Caracalla with another reason to summon you.”

“You're right, I think I can bear it with you by my side,” you said, brushing his hair with your fingers to remove grass particles.

He leaned down and kissed your forehead. “As long as I'm with you, you don't have to worry about anything, my love.”

You nodded. Then he stood up and held out his hand to you. “We should head home and prepare to get going.”

As you and Marcus were traveling to the Colosseum, the crowds were gathering in that direction. There was a great deal of discussion about Gaius and his treachery. You could hear people talking about him and his fate with great enthusiasm. The carriage stopped in front of the stairs, and you and Marcus got out. As you ascended the stairs together, those who recognised you greeted you, and you responded by saluting them with a raised hand. The members of the Senate were also making their way up the stairs at a brisk pace, each of them turning around to greet you with a kind smile. It would be fair to say that you were the most talked about married couple in Rome. While holding Marcus' hand, you made your way to the imperial tribune together, where you observed that Geta and Caracalla had already arrived and taken their seats. Caracalla gave you a brief glance and turned his attention back to the arena. He and Marcus exchanged glances as Geta stood up and waited for you to sit next to him. Marcus greeted them and moved to sit next to your seat. However, as soon as he pulled you close, Geta reached out and hugged you, but Marcus was determined to keep hold of your hand. You found yourself stumbled between the two of them.

“Sister, you're here.” He looked at Marcus's hand gripping yours and grinned. “Come now, take a seat, it's almost time.”

Marcus's expression was stern as he pulled you close, made sure you sat down and then settled down next to you. He had no intention of letting go of your hand, and you were perfectly comfortable with it. Geta turned around and called Macrinus, who had just arrived. For some reason he looked happy. You didn't like it. His usual cheerful mood usually puts you in a tense one. Marcus probably felt the same. He bowed to you and took his seat. Geta and Caracalla seemed to be in high spirits and excited as usual, probably because it was their favourite moment. They stood up, and greeted the crowd as the announcer announced the game. Then stepped back and took their seats. Geta leaned towards you. “Ready to see the tigers, sister?”

You pouted your lips and shrugged your shoulders.

“I'm so thrilled. Look, my palms are all sweaty.” He showed you his palms with a wide smile, you pressed your lips together, trying to suppress a laugh.

“Good for you,” you said sarcastically. "I do wonder, though, if all this preparation is really for the purpose of making our cousin lunch for the tigers.”

Geta laughed. “No, that would be sooo boring. Macrinus has brought new gladiators, you will see them soon. Today's games will be slightly different from the others. It has been a while since we have seen warriors fighting dangerous animals.”

‘Gaius isn't a warrior,’ you muttered.

‘No, he's just a bait. Here we gooo,’ he said with clapping his hands, as the drums began to beat. The announcer threw up his arms and the crowd fell silent.

“People of Rooome! Who do you cheer for? The barbarian warriors who have come here today, risking their lives, are they worthy of your praise? Or do you cheer for the fearless gladiators who have embraced death? Or do you cheer for the fierce, dangerous tigers?”

The crowd roared, their voices growing louder with each mention of the tigers.

“Or for the execution of a traitor? The day of judgment has come. Our Emperors and yours must pass judgment on this traitor!”

The crowd was now cheering loudly in approval. One of the iron gates opened and Gaius was forced into the arena by the guards, who prodded him with spears. Geta stood up and gestured to one of the guards. The guard handed him a pugio. Then Geta called out to Gaius, "Hey, Gaius the traitor, take this. I don't want it to end quickly!"

He hurled it down the bleachers at him. Caracalla immediately checked to see where it had fallen. "That fool will die before he gets to it," he said, laughing. And the other gates opened, accompanied by the beating of drums and the sound of trumpets.

The barbarians stormed the arena, five of them, some with shields and spears, others with crossbows. The crowd cheered with gusto, and Geta and Caracalla applauded. Then the gladiators entered the arena, three of them, with shields and swords, one of them wearing a galea (helmet). Geta and Caracalla clapped even louder. The gladiators gave their customary salute to the emperors and gathered among themselves. Gaius still hadn't got the pugio, and Caracalla gave him a lot of abuse. He was stuck between two groups of warriors, but he was determined to get to the pugio. It was going to be tough. In that dusty, sandy field, everyone was each other's enemy.

"Let it begin!" Caracalla shouted firmly. The drums beat louder and the crowd roared. Tension and Thriller filled the air. Marcus stroked your hand with his thumb and smiled at you. Then he swiftly turned his gaze to the game. You were curious as to why the tigers still hadn't appeared. Geta and Caracalla knew what they were doing. They must have a good plan. The barbarians and gladiators charged at Gaius simultaneously. Gaius was about to take the pugio when a trapdoor opened in the sandy ground and a huge tiger came roaring out of nowhere. Gaius jumped back, but in his fright, he lost his footing and fell to the ground.

“Oh, he'll die so soon.” Geta whined.

“He's boring, as usual.” Caracalla agreed.

They laughed together.

The gladiators reached Gaius first and pulled him back. You looked at Geta. He winked at you, "I told you. Different kind of fight."

Marcus leaned in close to your ear. “Part of the game,” he explained.

It didn't take long to see how dangerous a game this was. While the barbarians and gladiators fought each other, Gaius was played like a toy right in the centre. One of the two groups of warriors was going to throw him to the tigers, but not before giving him a good thrashing on the sandy ground. As soon as the other tiger emerged from the subterranean floor onto the sandy ground directly opposite the other, the barbarians turned on the gladiators. One of them kicked one of the gladiators and plunged his sword into his neck, blood gushing from his throat and splattering the sandy floor like wine red. The violence was overwhelming. You would never get used to this. Gaius tried to run away, taking advantage of the clash of the two groups, but one of the barbarians kicked him in the thigh and pushed him into a tiger. Geta jumped to his feet, and Caracalla had already run to the balustrade.

"Eat him!" Geta clapped his hands excitedly.

Caracalla laughed loudly and madly.

You closed your eyes and squeezed your eyelids tight. The crowd was clearly excited and your half-brothers were shouting with joy. It was obvious that the tiger was eating his lunch. Marcus took your hand in both of his and stroked it. You were grateful he was there because you would have fainted at the sight of this savagery.

“Did you hear his bones crunching?” Geta looked at you and laughed.

When you rolled your eyes, he twisted his lips. "Come now, sister, didn't you watch Gaius' vile body crumble between that animal’s teeth?"

“I think I've seen enough,” you muttered.

“I'm sure you enjoyed it too, you hide it well though.” Caracalla grinned.

You forced a smile in response.

“What do you reckon? Two gladiators left.” Geta asked him.

'The barbarians don't stand a chance.’

“Hmm. I'd like to hear your opinion, Acacius.” Geta demanded.

You three turned your heads to Marcus.

“I agree with Emperor Caracalla. These barbarians are attacking recklessly and without thinking.” He answered without looking at him. His eyes were fixed on the gladiators, and you found yourself wondering what he was thinking.

After a while, when the barbarians were down to two, you realised Marcus was right.

“Aaaahh, two on two! Thrilling!” Geta clapped his hands excitedly.

“I told you, the gladiators will take them easily.”

“The game's not over yet, brother.”

Indeed it wasn't, as the tigers struggled to break free from their chains, the barbarians, seeing an opportunity, took advantage of the tigers as hiding behind them to launch an attack on the gladiators with bolts, hitting one in the arm. However, this was a risky move, tigers, despite being bound by thick iron chains, retained a great deal of mobility. One of the gladiators, wearing a galea, managed to remove the bolt from his arm and picked up his spear, which he then threw at one of the tigers. The spear pierced the animal's throat with a single thrust, and it collapsed with a great groan of pain. You felt your chest hurt. Despite it is a deadly predator, it was an animal torn from its natural environment and was forced to fight there.

Geta pursed his lips, “I can't believe how you died so easily, you stupid animal.”

“There's still one left, brother.”

You found their conversation somewhat callous and wished for the game to end soon. You felt a longing to leave this place and return home with your husband.

The gladiator made a swift and decisive move, leaping from the lifeless body of the tiger and engaging in a sword fight with the barbarian. The other tiger let out a roar that echoed throughout the arena, accompanied by the sounds of the clash. As the other two of them fought each other, the tiger touched its claw lightly on the other gladiator's leg, but it was enough to cause significant injury. The man staggered backwards, the pain intense and shocking, and before he could recover, the other barbarian slashed his neck with his sword. The tiger lunged at him, but the chain and soldiers holding him down prevented him from attacking. Geta narrowed his eyes.

“Aaah, now it's two on one!”

“I knew it!” Caracalla clapped his hands in excitement.

The gladiator did not hesitate to engage with the barbarians, swiftly cutting the other one's arm before they could bring their sword down on him. This move seemed familiar to you for a reason. Marcus muttered something, and you knew he was thinking the same as you. You weren't trying to learn something about fighting. You had seen this gladiator fight before. You looked at Geta and Caracalla, then at Macrinus. He smiled meaningfully at you. That was him, that gladiator. The gladiator who injured Marcus' arm in a fight with him last time, and whose life was spared by him. But why?

Marcus muttered, "His movements have improved, but he still doesn't have enough use of his wrist.'

"Why is he here to fight again?"

Marcus looked at you. "There are many answers to that, my guess is rage.”

‘Rage?’

He fixed his gaze on the gladiator who had vanquished one of the barbarians, intensifying the fervour of the crowd. “His eyes are filled with nothing but rage. He battles using it, and when he triumphs, he believes it is because he is strong. However, it hinders his ability to think rationally, and it appears that defeat has made him even more relentless. This is indisputable proof that he is not basing his actions on logic.”

He turned his head back to him and saw that the gladiator had cut down the last barbarian. The crowd was whistling and cheering him on as he raised his arms. Geta and Caracalla were also applauding. Caracalla raised his arms. "And here is our champion! Take off that galea so we can see your face!”

The gladiator obeyed and removed his galea. He was looking at Marcus as he greeted you all. That made you feel very uncomfortable. Marcus squinted at him.

“What a fight.” Geta took his seat, and Caracalla sat next to him.

“This is the part I hate the most, the moment when the fight ends.” Caracalla mumbled.

“You're joining the banquet tonight, aren't you?” Geta asked you.

And you were just about to answer him when, in the blink of an eye, a bolt came out of nowhere and stuck between you and Marcus, just through his seat. You felt your heart leap into your throat. It was so close to you that you could almost hear the sound of it swooshing. While Geta and Caracalla let out screams of panic, Marcus flinched backward. First, his brown eyes locked on you, and then he turned his gaze in the direction of the bolt. You just held your breath, still in shock. Marcus was filled with an incredible rage, jumped to his feet. You pulled yourself together and turned in the direction he was facing. Geta grabbed your shoulders.

“Sister! Are you alright?”

You nodded, your eyes fixed on Marcus. The gladiator was grinning down at you, crossbow in hand, as if trying to enrage Marcus even more. Geta and Caracalla stood up to look at him.

“As a champion, I challenge General Acacius!”

Caracalla burst out laughing. Geta clapped his hands and turned to Marcus.

“You should have killed him last time, Acacius.”

Marcus locked eyes with him, and you could have sworn he'd killed him so many times with his deadly gaze. You gripped his hand in both of yours.

He already knew what you were going to say. He turned to you, his eyes sharp and unblinking. “I'll tear him to pieces.”

“We support you, General Acacius!” Geta cheered.

“You must learn to speak for yourself,” Caracalla complained.

You ignored them, your eyes locked on Marcus'. All your tormenting fears had returned.

“Aren't you going to punish him? That bolt could have hit me or you!” You said Geta.

“He knew exactly where he was shooting it, my sister,” Caracalla said arrogantly.

Geta shook his head. “He challenged the General, and being a man of honor, he must fight. Please make sure you kill him this time, won't you?”

As the crowd watched the General with curious murmurs, you were looking at him with teary eyes. He had already reached a decision at the moment the bolt pierced his seat. He withdrew his hand from between yours, removed the bolt with some force, and approached the balustrade, raising his hand and regarding the gladiator.

"I, Marcus Acacius, accept your challenge." He raised his hand. "I shall ensure that you regret shooting this!"

As the crowd began to cheer wildly, you could feel your heart pounding fast. As Marcus turned to face you and looked into your eyes for the last time, you decided to support him instead of being afraid. He needed it.

“You beat him once, I'm sure you'll beat him again, my love.”

His brown eyes sparkled as he heard those words coming from your mouth, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it.

"I will, my lady." He smiled and strode out, passing between the senators' seats and heading down to the lowest level of the Colosseum. Macrinus and you locked eyes as you looked him up and down with a look of pure defiance on your face. He was smiling at you with that disturbing smile, you squinted at him. You were almost certain he had planned this on purpose. Geta put his arm around you and sat you down.

“Oh, it's going to be so exciting. He's going to kill him for sure this time. The tension is so high!”

“But this time a tiger is there too,” Caracalla said.

“So? The general has fought with animals before. He even cut the lion in two in front of our eyes. I'm sure he'll be able to beat the tiger too,” Geta winked at your worried face.

“Really?” You asked curiously, you heard that before but thought it was just a rumor.

Geta chuckled, “I wish you were here with us to witness that moment, sister. It was quite something.”

“I have absolutely no regrets brother.” You hissed. After all, you never would want to see Marcus before a lion.

Your eyes moved between the tiger and the gladiator. While you were praying to Jupiter, the iron door swung open accompanied by drums. You and your brothers sprang to your feet. Marcus was in his armour and looking at the gladiator as he walked into the arena with his sword in hand. The crowd roared and ranged his name out. He went over to the gladiator and they both saluted the Emperors. You saw Marcus's half-smile and you smiled back in return. It was always tough seeing him there. The more fearlessly he fought, the more you worried. It was like a special kind of torture for you.

The game began on Geta's and Caracalla's commands, and you realised that your breathing was already becoming irregular. The gladiator with a smile, approached the tiger, Marcus followed at a distance, as if he understood what the gladiator was up to.The tiger roared, the gladiator made the first move, lunging towards Marcus with his blood-soaked sword in hand. It was a failed attempt; Marcus stepped aside. However, he managed to get a little closer to the tiger. Marcus took a step back as the animal let out a roar, and the gladiator swung a spear at him but missed. When you saw Marcus so close to the tiger, it made you feel so nervous.

The gladiator stepped back as Marcus walked over to him, looking angry. Even from a distance, you could tell what he was thinking. His sword gave off a faint glow as he thrust it at him. The gladiator fought back with his own sword. As the clash of swords echoed around the arena, the tiger moved in to attack them both. Marcus resisted with all his might as the gladiator thrust his sword repeatedly, pushing Marcus towards the tiger. The gladiator let out a growl and tried again, quickly, strongly and determinedly.

But this time, Marcus was more angry than ever. He couldn't stop thinking about the bolt that had been shot at him. In that short time, he didn't worried about himself, but worried about you. In his perspective, the bolt he'd shot had stuck in his seat, right next to you. This attack on him and his wife in his presence will not go unpunished. He was going to get revenge for sure, even if it meant he'd die in the end. Marcus roared and lunged forward with his sword, which glinted in the sunlight, driving it into the gladiator's chest. The man stumbled back but recovered quickly. If he hadn't been wearing his iron armor, he would have been cut in half. They just stared at each other for a while and then Marcus made the first move. He wanted to end this game as soon as possible and make sure his opponent was dead. He brought his sword down with all his might, screaming at him, but the man blocked his attack with his sword. They were making kind of animalistic sounds now, harmonised with the sound of the tiger. During the struggle, the gladiator resisted the General's deadly pressure. Then the urge to pull out his knife and plunge it into Marcus' exposed leg with a decisive and powerful thrust. Although Marcus had been expecting this, he was unable to prevent the knife from cutting him and let out a cry of pain. You leaped to your feet and screamed, covering your mouth with your hands. Geta and Caracalla leaned forward with excitement. You watched him rush towards Marcus, who fell to the ground. Without a moment's hesitation, he grabbed the sand and threw it at the tiger, creating a cloud of dust that surrounded them. The crowd fell silent for a moment, and then you forgot to breathe as they shouted excitedly again. Geta jumped to his feet and Caracalla grunted. Geta, realising that your body was shaking, grabbed your shoulders and you both breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the dust cleared and you saw the sword Marcus had plunged into the tiger's throat.

Marcus barely threw himself backward as the tiger's fangs snapped open and closed right next to his beautiful face. His sword remained lodged in the animal's neck and soon the tiger's lifeless body collapsed to the ground. The gladiator lunged at Marcus with his sword while he was down. Marcus swiftly grabbed the spear from the ground and shielded himself. As the sword and spear clashed, a deafening sound reverberated through the arena. Marcus was determined not to let go of the spear he was holding and, despite the blood flowing from his leg, he tripped the gladiator's foot and knocked him to the ground. He immediately got up and tried to stand, leaning on the spear. The gladiator cursed as he got up and Marcus threw his pugio at him. If you had been right next to them in the arena, you would have heard the sharp sound of the pugio cutting the wind.

Caracalla returned Geta's grin with one of his own, and Geta laughed with joy. You soon came to know what had happened as you realised Marcus' pugio lodged in the gladiator's throat. As the gladiator tried to remove the dagger from his throat, Marcus advanced on him and kicked him in the stomach, knocking him down. The gladiator had only moments left, but Marcus was not to be appeased. He picked up a crossbow from ground, set a bolt in place, readying the crossbow to be shot – the very same crossbow the gladiator had used – aimed right above the gladiator's face. The crowd of the Colosseum was on its feet, eager to see what the General was about to do. Geta and Caracalla extended their arms forward, and Marcus turned his head in that direction.

The emperors turned their thumbs down, and Marcus's face hardened into a grim smile. He aimed the crossbow directly at the gladiator's head again and pulled the trigger. The crowd roared and cheered again, their approval loud and clear. They all chanted Marcus's name over and over. But your eyes were fixed on the bright red liquid leaking from his calf down his leg, soaking his sandals. You turned to run to him, but Geta grasped your arm.

“Where are you going?”

“To my husband,” you said, pushing his arm away.

‘We shall head together," he said, turning to Caracalla. ‘Weren't you the one who wanted to see the tiger up close?’

Caracalla laughed. “Yes, I want one of his teeth,” he said firmly, holding up a finger to the guard next to him. The guard nodded.

“I want the claw,” Geta said, putting his arm around your neck as you both walked.

Macrinus approached Caracalla and spoke in a low voice, then excused himself and left in a hurry.  The guards accompanied you as you headed towards the iron gate situated just below the imperial tribune. As you made your way down the stairs, the announcer proclaimed the names of the emperors, and the crowd responded with enthusiastic cheers.

You slipped out of Geta's arm and rushed towards Marcus. Two soldiers were with him, tending to his wounds, and when they saw you, they stopped and bowed. You immediately put your hands out to look at his leg. It was deep, and you looked at Marcus with concern. But he smiled.

“General Acacius, our esteemed champion who has a proven track record of success.” Geta applauded him.

“The tiger almost made you lunch, Acacius,” Caracalla said, laughing.

Marcus forced a smile and walked over to the tiger, pulling his sword from its throat with a swift movement. He raised the sword as he approached the emperor, the air filled with the scent of rusty iron as a few drops of blood fell to the ground.

Your half-brothers tensed, and the guards moved to a defensive position to protect them. The crowd began to mutter. You looked at Marcus, curious about his intention. His face was expressionless, but his eyes spoke volumes.

“My emperors, I wonder if you are aware of the number of lives lost in the process of taking these animals out of their natural habitat and bringing them here to Rome and the Colosseum. I have to say that ten of my men have lost their lives in this endeavour. They were Roman citizens, and they served you loyally. Ten good men who cannot easily be replaced.”

You didn't expect this, and you pleased that Marcus brought this truth to their attention. However, they didn't seem to care.

“After all they died to serve Rome, didn't they?” Caracalla smiled arrogantly. Geta remained silent, his eyes roaming over the tiger's dust and blood-covered body.

“Yes, they did, to serve Rome. But that is not the kind of death they deserve, is it?”

“I think he heard about the rhino, brother.” Geta muttered.

"Ah, now I see. You're concerned that a few soldiers might be lost again."

"Rhino?" You looked at them in surprise.

“You don't mention the details to your wife, do you, General?” Geta laughed.

Marcus ignored him. “As I mentioned, bringing a tiger here is a big waste in terms of manpower and also costs a lot of the Rome's resources. I can't even think about a rhino.” He drove his sword into the ground with a sharp thrust. “Rome has so many subjects, she must feed them.” Marcus's tone was stern.

Caracalla took Marcus' sword in his hand and pointed it at him. You gasped and took a step forward.

“They can eat war, General.”

Geta smiled and seemed to agree with him. Caracalla raised his arms and pointed at the crowd.

“Just look at them. They're all watching with great interest. They're all pretty pleased with themselves. They're having as much fun as we are.”

“Yes, but what about the people living in the alleys?” You said suddenly and walked over to them.

Caracalla looked annoyed.

“Do you really think all citizens are coming here? There are lots of people in the alleyways who are going starving, and many of them are children. I had the chance to see them recently. The situation is pretty dire."

You looked at Marcus out of the corner of your eye and saw that he was looking at you.

"Enough! Don't you ever dare to collaborate with your husband and order me around!"

Geta looked at you with a warning gaze, then turned to his brother. "Never mind them, brother, I want to see the tiger," he said and strode off in that direction. Caracalla gave you both a menacing look before turned and stepped towards his brother.

Marcus approached you. "You didn't need to get involved."

"Is it wrong to defend my husband?"

He smiled, "No, of course not, my lady, but the longer you don't confront him, the better."

Then he touched his calf and groaned.

"Marcus, your wound needs to be treated now!" You put your arm around his waist and called out the soldiers.

Marcus insisted you pull your arm back, and they led their general inside. Before leaving, you turned to look at your brothers, who were excitedly observing the tiger and laughing as if they were playing with a new shiny toy. You rolled your eyes and sighed, then turned towards the iron gate and followed your husband inside.

By the time you arrived at the villa, the sun had bathed Rome in its golden light, preparing to say goodbye. Marcus' cut on his calf was deep but not severe. It would take a week or two to heal. The slaves in the villa were taken aback to see Marcus returning, armoured and bruised, after an unexpected fight. As Marcus' body was covered in dust and dirt, you ordered Tullia to prepare the bath immediately upon entering the courtyard. You both ascended the stairs heading to your room, Marcus seemed to be struggling with each step. You helped him remove his armour and other items. Then he watched you with interest as you took off your palla and stola.

"I think I'm getting the hang of this," you said, smiling at him.

"Let me," he said, reaching for the bracelets on your wrists.

This had become a daily routine: you helping Marcus take off or put on his armour while he helped you with your dress. He liked to undress you more, though.

Once he'd taken off your bracelets and necklace and put them on his desk, you wanted to take a look at his wound. You noticed that the bandage had turned red, so you quickly crouched down on the floor next to his leg and unwrapped it.

"We need to clean around the wound and wrap it tighter."

You were concerned, but he wasn't really. Your face was right next to his crotch, and your warm breath on his skin made things worse. Marcus's heartbeat quickened as you picked up a clean cloth and came back to him. You were so worried and focused on his wound that you didn't notice his eyes looking at you with desire.

You cleaned the wound meticulously, wrapped it. "You're stronger, so wrap it tightly." You said.

As you rose to your feet, Marcus stopped you by grasping your shoulder and lowering you back to your knees. You looked at him with confusion, and saw the familiar intensity in his dark brown eyes, and then saw the length of him growing under his burgundy tunic.

“But why-“

It was a silly question.

“Because of you,” he grinned. “Desires you,” he said, cupping you under the chin with his hand and bringing your face close to his crotch.

Your cheeks flushed red and you swallowed hard.

“I wish to feel your lips around me,” his thumb hovered over your lips. “And your sweet tongue,” he leaned his head down and kissed you on the lips. After breaking the kiss he looked into your eyes, “Will you give your husband what he desires?”

You were ready to do anything for him, but this was a new and strange thing for you. He's your husband. You should please him as he pleased you, you thought to yourself.

You nodded, your eyes meeting his. "If that's what you desire," you said, your voice smooth and confident, and grasped the hem of his tunic, lifting it. You were ready. You bit your lower lip as you looked at his glorious length. You had imagined him in your mouth before, but from this angle, he looked big. Marcus sensed your nervousness and took your hand, guiding it over him so that you could grasp his length.

You tentatively took his length in one hand and stroked it a few times, noting that it was already hard between your fingers and that a drop of precum was forming at the tip. You leaned in and gave him a little lick, just to see what it would feel like. It was warm, salty, musky. You let your tongue trail around the ridge of his crown. He exhaled in a low, raspy tone through his nose. You smiled, hearing his low moans gave you confidence. You lowered his throbbing length into your mouth, which was stretched open as far as it could go and still only just fit around him. Your tongue flicked over his more sensitive spot, while your hands worked over the base, kneading it gently. He shuddered in delight. Then, all of a sudden, he thrust deep into your throat.

“Mmmff!” Your voice was muffled, and he felt your gag reflex vibrating against the sensitive skin of his length.

"Look at me, my love,” he purred. You obey immediately. “You are enjoying that are you not?" He hissed cheekily through a struggled breath.

You hum in response and he jolts at the vibration of your mouth around his throbbing length. You continue to suck him and you look directly up into his eyes innocently for a moment which sends him right to the edge, the way you are looking up at him sweetly and seductively but so naughtily, your long eyelashes fluttering everytime the tip of him hits the back of your throat. The yellowish sun light streaming through the window lit up your hair, illuminating the strands of gold and copper that flowed over your shoulders. He grabbed your hair in his fists and yanked. But you liked it.

“So beautiful,” he pants.

He pulls back before thrusting forward again, balls-deep in your mouth, coming inside you, taking you by surprise. You swallow on instinct, surprised that it was really sweet. He touches your cheek, wiping away a few drops with his finger, and you look up at him shyly.

“Gods, you have enchanted me body and soul, I love you,” He purred and held your jaw in both his hands, pulling you off him and you frown a little at the loss of him inside your mouth.

But he did it to pull you into his arms in a hurry, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he kissed you passionately. Then he grabbed you by the hips and lifted you up, pushing the things off his desk and making you sit. You were too busy to care about the sound of the ink bottle falling to the floor and the papers flying around. You pressed your hands on his shoulders, pushed your head back and broke the kiss to catch your breath. Your eyes met and you saw the fire of desire in his eyes. You blinked and swallowed, reacting the same way every time. He grinned at you the same way, and it never seemed to get old.

“I must have you. Now.” The rough timbre of his voice sent shivers down your spine.

Her insistent and impatient fingers peeled the fabric of your tunic down your shoulders. The fabric gathered around your waist. His burning lips met yours again, his strong hands gripped your hips once more and pulled you to the edge of the desk. His hands caressed your knees down to your ankles and pulled the fabric of your dress up. In one swift movement he removed his tunic and threw it to the floor. When he turned to you, looking at you like a hungry wolf and your heart began to pound faster. Your mouths met again, and in an instant, you were lost in an all-consuming kiss. You push your hips forward against his crotch and suddenly aware of how hard and big he has again become in such a short time. You admire his heaving chest and all his muscles and his scars. You lean up to touch his chest and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. He slides inside you with a sudden movement, your walls clenching instinctively at the excitement of this new position. He moans into your mouth and breaks the kiss, grabs your hips with both hands, pulls out and thrusts deeper. You tilt your head back and try to breathe. He grabs your jaw gently and makes you face him. “I want you to watch me,” he whispered.

You had to learn to adapt to his behaviour, as it was a recurring habit of his, but you still felt that your shyness was holding you back. In contrast to you, he rarely closed his eyes, only when he was nearing the end. He usually prefers to watch you, he values eye contact greatly, as if he doesn't want to miss any moment of this precious moment with you. Probably because he was a very passionate man, filled with pure desire. “Marcus…” You moan his name as your walls clench around him so hard that he groans. Wave after wave you crash into him. Your arms are below his, but wrapped around him and your nails dig further into his back. You think you hurt him when he hisses but he smirks and all it does is make him chase after you with his own climax. At that moment, you feel he was spilling, filling every inch of you, licks and sucks even bite your chin meanwhile. He continues to thrust and the wet sound of him releasing more and more inside you is music to your ears as he rides out the remaining waves of your climax. Finally he slows down and stops, breathing heavily. Both of you enjoying the moment between, admiring how you're almost naked on his desk and he's just had you there. He pulled out slowly, smiled as he enjoys the sight of you. Then run his fingers through his hair, wiped the sweat from his brow and foreground, and took a moment to catch his breath.

“My lady.” He held out his hand, offering to help you to your feet. You slowly get up, thighs together, still holding on to him. He leaned in a little closer to tuck your messy hair behind your ears.

“I believe the best time for a bath is at this very moment.” He grinned. "Shall we?”

In the Balneum, while you were rubbing Marcus's shoulders and cleansing him of the grime of the sandy, dusty surroundings of the arena, he was very quiet. He appeared to be lost in thought. Perhaps he was tired, you thought. The exertion in the arena, the struggle to survive, and dealing with your brothers must have been exhausting for him. However, the feeling of being deprived of his voice was becoming unbearable.

“You know, you could tell me,” you said softly, breaking Marcus's thoughts.

“Hmm?”

You rested your head on his shoulder from behind, your cheeks lightly touching his.

“It must have hurt you, losing those men of yours. You don't have to carry that burden on your shoulders alone. As your wife, you can share it with me.” You kissed his neck right on the jugular vein.

Marcus turned his head to you, his beard brushing your nose. “How fortunate man I am that the Gods have blessed me with you?”

He turned and pulled you towards him, slipping his arms under your shoulders and thighs as he did so, and pulled you into the water beside him. Your giggles were accompanied by the splashing sound of the hot water and echoed through the marble walls of the balneum.

Marcus kissed you gently on the lips, tenderly, adoringly. He pulled back and smiled, gathering your wet hair on one side of your neck. “My beautiful princess, you know I would do anything for you, don't you?”

You ran your fingers along the line of his lips as your head rested on the arm he had wrapped around you from behind.

“With all my heart, I know, General,” you murmured.

"I hope you will be reassured that from this moment on, I will do everything I can for you and for Rome." His gaze sharpened and his expression became serious, as if he was making a vow. Your fingers traced the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes.

"You sound like you might be about to do something soon?”

His eyes dropped to your wet hair. 'I only wanted to make sure you know that.'

You got a strange feeling all over, and his expression was unlike anything you'd ever seen. And it lasted all night. Even when you were lying in bed together, holding you in his arms and kissing you on the lips, it felt different.

You found it difficult to get to sleep because you were troubled by a peculiar sensation that persisted throughout the night. As soon as you opened your eyes in the morning, you felt a shiver, but it wasn't because your hair was still damp. The sensation you always felt first thing in the morning was missing, the comforting warmth of an arm around you and its owner. Your hand instinctively went to the other side of the bed, you felt the sheet with the back of your hand. It was cold. Usually, it was warm.

You sat up in bed and looked around. He was gone. His armour and other belongings were nowhere to be seen. You got out of bed, shivering, your chest hurting. This room hadn't felt so warm in his absence. However, there was no change in the air temperature, everything must be the same. But it wasn't. Nothing was the same without him. You found yourself wishing that this morning, which had begun inauspiciously, was a dream. However, when you were once again confronted with the feelings you had experienced the night before you decided to leave the room. As if running away.

As you descended the stairs, you saw Norell walking in the courtyard with a tray. You called out to her, and she turned to face you.

“Where is the General?”

Tullia came up to her and mumbled something. You hurried down the stairs and walked over to them. Why didn't they answer you?

“Where's my husband?” Your voice was louder than you wanted it to be.

Tullia came closer to you, her eyes uncertain.

"My lady, the general left early this morning."

"Where did he go?"

"I don't know, but he's probably off to the barracks."

"He's never left this early before. Surely he said something?"

Tullia opened her eyes wide. "How dare I ask him questions, my lady?"

You frowned. You felt like she was hiding something from you, but you couldn't be sure what. After she excused herself and left, Decima saw you and walked towards you.

“My lady,' she greeted you. "Your eyes are a little sunken. Are you alright?"

“I don't- I don't feel well,” your voice trembled.

"Please, take a seat." She held your hand and kindly guided you to sit on the armchair.

You sat and sighed deeply. Decima sat next to you. From the look in her eyes, you sensed that she was aware of something and wanted to share it with you.

"Sir Octavius arrived at dawn. Whatever he said to the general, he quickly dressed and left. I thought you knew."

You placed your head in your hands and groaned at the headache you felt.

"I must have fallen into a deep sleep around that time because I couldn't sleep properly at night."

“I’ll bring your breakfast," she said and rose to her feet, but you reached for her arm and prevented her from doing so.

"That is unnecessary. I would prefer to rest in the room until the General arrives.”

However, he did not return that evening or the following day.

The minutes seemed to drag on, each one a painful torture. When the waiting became unbearable, you decided to leave the villa one evening. You needed to find him and see why he wasn’t coming back.  As you had promised him, you wrapped the small knife Marcus gave you around your ankle, put on your black cloak and left the room. Decima spotted you and ran to you, reaching out to take your hand on the stairs, but you pushed her hand away.

Tullia and Norell and even the other slaves ran to you, all of them concerned.

"Domina! Please don't leave at this hour." Tullia pleaded.

“Master will be back eventually, please be patient." Norell reached out to take your other hand but you pulled it back. The others also begged, making you even angrier.

You raised your hand. “Enough!" Your voice, loud, echoed through the courtyard. Mau, startled from her slumber, leapt up, jumped down and ran behind the fountain. They were taken aback and fell silent. Their kind and soft Domina was gone. You turned your head, strode purposefully out of the courtyard. As soon as you came out, saw Cato and Octavius there which surprised you.

“My lady,” Cato ran to you.

You looked at Octavius.

“Where is my husband?”

“My lady, I cannot allow you to leave, please go back inside.”

You approached him frowning. “I asked you a question, Sir Octavius!” It was the first time you had raised your voice to Octavius, who had always been kind to you. He startled and tensed a little.

Tullia, Norell and Decima were watching you anxiously from the doorway of the courtyard.

Octavius bowed his head. "The General has a mission to complete, he has ordered me to stay here and protect you until he returns. You must understand, your safety is paramount."

You opened your eyes wide. "Mission? I want to know exactly what you mean by that."

Octavius' expression was hesitant. You approached him. “Sir, please, I need to know where he is."

He frowned, didn't answer.

"Or is it about my brothers?"

He remained silent, still no answer. You were getting more and more angry.

“If it's an important mission, why are you here? Aren't you his right-hand man?”

“I am, but this is his direct order.”

“Tell me at once what the General's mission is.”

After some thought, he looked at you.

“The General said. If he fails…" Octavius could hardly speak. You swallowed, sensing you wouldn't be pleased with what you were about to hear. “He said that I must protect you with my life, no matter what.”

Your throat got dry. “Octavius, tell me where he is.” Your voice was shaking.

You imagine he was as displeased with the order he had been given, and as worried as you were. His expression became more resolute. “Sir Macrinus. We have been considering various strategies for some time now to ensure a successful outcome. Two days ago, when we became aware that he was departing for Libya, we devised a plan to launch an attack just outside the capital this morning. The general was keen to proceed with minimal disruption and with a few man.”

“Macrinus is no fool. He could very well be outnumbered.”

“That's a possibility,” Octavius stated.

The wave of anxiety had taken over your whole body, Marcus' words echoed in your head. 'For you and for Rome.'

“Cato! Get my horse here at once!” You ordered. He looked surprised at first but nodded and trotted off towards the stables when you looked at him angrily.

“My Lady, but-“

You turned to Octavius. “Lead the way.”

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[kurooh]

I HAVE TO GET THIS OUT RN OR ILL GO INSANE

being inarizaki’s beloved manager in high school was what made the best memories — cheering during games, helping out during practices, bonding with each member of the team, doing one or two homework assignments for atsumu so he could get by, getting gangbanged by some of them after every game.

you’d been the closest with atsumu, osamu, suna, and kita. they’d been all over you, inside and out, after celebratory team meals and such. the rest of the team had no idea about their slutty little manager, or the four whores fucking you.

after high school, everyone had moved on. the friendships were still there, you’d text or call every now and then, but it was silent for the most part. after all, everyone had grown busy with their careers and lives.

but when there’s a high school reunion and the whole team shows up, feelings resurface easily. atsumu can’t stop staring at you, osamu’s rambling about his restaurant to you more than anyone else, kita’s touches last too long to be accidental, and suna’s way too flirty for someone who’s entirely sober.

naturally, the five of you slip away and have dinner somewhere decent (osamu can’t stop critiquing the food and reminding you to go to his restaurant) before you’re in the backseat, between the twins as suna drives you all to his place.

a few games, some drinks and a blunt, and before you know it you’re bouncing on a cock and sucking one at the same time, just like old times.

“i swear yer ass has gotten even bigger,” a tipsy atsumu groans from the sidelines, watching closely.

“shut up, atsumu,” suna grunts, adjusting his hips and angling his cock further down your throat, “your voice is taking away from my turn.”

kita clicks his tongue. “i get it, everyone’s excited. but there’s no need to be rude, you two.”

atsumu whines something in the background, and you don’t quite catch it, too caught up with the way osamu’s trembling beneath you, and suna’s little gasps in between each grunt.

you squeeze your eyes shut as you choke more of his cock down, hips stilling so osamu can take the lead and drag you up and down his cock.

“pussy’s as greedy as ever,” he moans, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he watches his entire length disappear inside you over and over.

you whimper as the thick tip of suna’s cock hits the back of your throat, just as osamu’s presses into you deeply. kita nods in approval although nobody’s looking his way; he shifts on the bed, the outline of his hard on through his boxers clear.

atsumu sips away on a beer, groaning to himself as though he’s the one you’re fucking. “oh, god, princess,” the nickname rolls off his tongue smoothly and your pussy can’t help but clench, “when it’s my turn i’ll fuck ya so goddamn hard. won’t even be able ta stand up.”

[selineram3421]

*friend comes up with something*

Royally Pissed

Part 1

Prologue

Alastor X Morningstar Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ Italics=thoughts, implied/suggestive *cough* bedroom name ⚠

In all honesty, Alastor didn't know why he did it but it just happened.

He pulled the small blonde out of the way, holding them close to his chest as a large dust cloud came from the now broken chandelier.

Mostly everyone in the room coughed as they tried to clear the dust from themselves.

"Are you hurt?", he asked them, noticing that the top of their head barely reached his chin.

How small.

"I'm fine.", they turned away to cough. "That was a lot of dust.."

Before he could ask for their name again, they were suddenly pulled away by none other than the King, Lucifer.

"ALRIGHT THEN!", he said before pulling them towards Charlie.

Haha!

The blonde slid over to his daughter, bringing along his other child as he began.

Looks like you could use some help

From the big boss of Hell himself

He held Charlie close before pushing her to see him sitting on a throne with fire rising behind it.

Check out daddy's glowing reviews on Yelp

He sang, scrolling on his hellphone to show her the reviews.

(Five star! Flawless! Greater than great!)

Three puppets said one after the other.

Oh, with the punch of a pentagram

A wap-bam-boom! Alakazam!

Alastor rolled his eyes as he watched on, but then he was suddenly pouring wine into a glass.

Who needs a busboy, now that you've got the chef?

The deer demon was pulled by the waist and landed in a pan, ears folded back as he angrily smiled at the King who grinned evily before he was flipped onto his front.

(Wow~)

I'm going to kill him.. Alastor thought before lifting himself up.

.

You were pulled into song and at the moment, were now sitting at a dinner table with your sister as your father was dressed like a server, hand about to reveal a meal.

Michelin-tasting menu

He lifted up the silver cloche, revealing a a "decapitated" Alastor, then some tentacles with red eyeballs, and finally a cake with him holding Alastor's head.

Free à la catre!

Oook.. You cringed. Dad doesn't like Alastor.

I'll rig the game for you because I'm the ref!

He started focusing more on Charlie and started to make more things appear.

Champagne fountains, caviar mountains, that's just the start~!

And then Alastor jumped in with blacklight, his backgrounds looking vibrant.

Who's been here since day one?

The deer demon pushed your father away, making him spin out of song.

Who's been faithful as a nun?

He was suddenly dressed as a nun, holding his hands in a praying position.

Much like how your father changed his scenes quickly, so did Alastor. You were having some trouble keeping up with it. His appearance looking slightly different with the lighting, his irises now green.

I'm truly honored that we've built such a bond

"Aw.", Charlie smiled.

He was now at the top of the stairs with your sister.

You're like the child that I wish that had

Alastor cupped your sister's face,

"Uh, what?", your dad said shocked.

Then your sister was like a child tucked in bed, literally. Alastor sitting at the edge and patting her head.

I care for you, just like a daughter I spawned

"Hold on now!", your father lifted up a finger.

The deer demon suddenly leaned his elbow on top of your dad's head, smooshing the white top hat.

It's a little funny

He started and pulled your sister to face away from your father.

You could almost call me Dad!

Suddenly you pulled into the song and were spun into a dip, finding Alastor smiling down at you with a seductive gaze.

(You can call me Daddy~), he whisper sang to you.

Your face turned bright red as you let out a squeak.

.

How adorable~ His smile widened as he saw them hide their blushing red face with their hands.

Now this one was on purpose.

After seeing the immediate reaction Lucifer had with him touching them. Oh, he had to cross multiple lines to see what the man would do next.

They were practically shaking in his hands, no doubt a little overwhelmed with what he had just sang just for their ears alone.

Let's see if I can fluster them more. He thought and raised a hand towards their face.

Suddenly they were ripped out of his hold and it was just the two men on stage.

The King growled, face darkening before he began to angrily play a fiddle, walking up to him with a scowl.

Alastor just smiled, standing up straight with his hands behind his back. Taking a step back as he dropped a piano on the short King before taking a seat on the piano bench, playing it confidently and showing off his skills before cringing at a loud sound.

His piano solo interrupted by an accordion.

Looking behind him, he saw Lusifer holding the instrument above his head with a frown, playing just one long note.

Really? He thought with a raised brow.

The two glared at each other before the spotlights above the two flickered out.

*me and my friend holding back our laughter* We can't laugh! It's 2 am!

~Seline, the person.

Part 2

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @gallantys @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @valenfawkes @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @+?

Taglist continued in the comments🔪

ML II for Alastor🎙 | RP ChL 👑

[elsecrytt]

satoru gojo knows he's not wanted. only needed - a weapon for killing curses and curse users, day in and day out, the lynchpin of jujutsu society.

he's fine with that, most of the time. the truth is, when suguru left, he thought that was the end for him. he was never very good at friendship in the first place, at making people like him.

he has a difficult personality, and he doesn't want to change. people willing to deal with him as he was were few and far between, and they never had that immediate connection like he did with suguru.

even if it left him unbearably lonely. it's just not in his nature to mince words, to hold back, to play nice. if he couldn't be satoru gojo, then what else did he have left?

and it's fine, most of the time.

but some of the time, it's not. it's really, really not. sometimes, it's worth it to try, just the tiniest bit, not to be a complete ass and drive away a pretty face who seems unbothered by his attitude.

that's how he ends up with you - a non-sorcerer. he hasn't told you about sorcery in general and doesn't want you to know.

to him, your shared penthouse is his safe space. he never walks or drives there, only ever teleports so that no one can trace him there. no one, not even at the school, knows that he primarily lives there.

he spends every spare hour (sometimes even just ten minute) he can there. finishing missions early, darting off after lessons, eating there whenever he can.

satoru only sleeps whenever you sleep. he never showers alone, never does his nighttime routine on his own.

that's all precious time he could be spending at your side.

washing your hair, your face, cleaning up alongside you. laughing and splashing and making a little more of a mess if he can get away with it.

here, there are no curses, no former friends turned traitor, no one who needs his help.

you smile as soon as you see him, hear him, run up to hug him if your hands are free.

he's on the lock screen of your phone. once or twice he's caught you just staring at it, delight painted all over your lips.

all you want from him is his company -

and god, is he ever aware, you're the only one alive who does.

most of his coworkers dislike him to various degrees. even his students have mixed feelings about him sometimes.

he does his best, he really does, but he can't bring himself to get attached to someone who might one day leave.

you won't, though (you can't), so he's free to love you all he wants.

he'll freely confess - he's overcompensating. pouring all the missed opportunities to bond, all the awkward moments where his attitude turned other people away, into the dam that is your relationship.

you don't mind his funky schedule (too much), you're a huge homebody who likes having date nights at home.

you smooth off all the rough edges of his personality - the arrogance, the smarmy comments - with a laugh and a taunt, a hand in his hair that he can't help but lean into like the domesticated pet he is.

god, he loves you. he loves you so, so much, unreasonably so - loves coming home to a "satoru! welcome back~", loves bringing home meals from different places and watching you try them with delight (you joke that his mysterious job must be as a delivery man, which he laughs at more than he should), loves coming home to your unnecessary attempts at cooking every now and then, something indescribable curling in his chest.

he loves sitting and talking with you about the latest show you're watching, telling you about his "coworkers" and "juniors" (sometimes he has to stop himself from giggling about it) and how annoying his latest day at work was.

sometimes it's sort of vague and vapid but it's fun when it's with you. sometimes it's deeper stuff, real stuff ("my oldest friend passed away recently" "one of my juniors at work has a complicated family situation") and you seem to always know just what to say. talking to you always makes him feel better.

he worries, sometimes, that he's not as good to you as you are to him. he tries - god, does he try - to show you the extent of his love, if he can't afford the words or time, then in deeds.

you're taken care of for the rest of your life, that was a given. the penthouse is in your name, various trusts set up in the impossible event of his death.

you have full access to a joint account that was actually just yours, set up for you by him - he just didn't feel like trying to convince you to accept the money.

he buys you things, of course. food mostly, to eat together, but also little trinkets and manga and souvenirs of the various places he goes to. little pieces of his life to share with you.

and when he can, he does do dates. every second he gets to spend with you is like gold, and he spends them all fully invested, eyes locked on you and yours, walking on air the entire time just from your presence. ready to talk about anything you had an interest in.

he's just that infatuated. satoru could talk for days to anyone, but you're the only one who'd listen, who'd chatter back just as enthusiastically. he wants you on speed dial every moment he's away.

shopping trips, too, he's always happy to play dress up, to dutifully compliment you even though privately he thinks you look best without any clothes -

and that, too, he does for you. he makes no secret of his affection for your body. spares not even a second getting to his knees, nuzzling against your thigh, cheeks flushed as he looks up at you with pleading eyes won't you feed me, pretty please, i'm starving~

he shows you he loves you. with hands and mouth and body, as a sorcerer should. silent curses falling from his lips as his body joins to yours.

it seems almost cruel of you to let him have this. why can't he live here forever? why can't he always be inside you?

satoru gojo knows he is the absolute last person who should be complaining about this, but why is life so unfair?

why can't he spend every minute of every day by your side? touching you? talking to you?

in his wildest dreams he's not killing curses or sorcerers or changing the world.

he's in bed with you, by your side from the moment he wakes up to the moment he falls asleep. that's his dream, just you being there, always.

he worries most of all what he'd do if you ever fought.

you're not the type - you "need space to calm down" sometimes, which is usually just you going back to your room. you "want to have a calm discussion" where you sit and listen to him and talk about feelings, and you have this way of making him talk.

you're good at communicating, at making people feel better, and understanding others. sensitive in a way that he's not.

you're never out to hurt him, even when he can tell his time away is grating on you, his constant absences and flightiness rightly off-putting.

you never argue with him, never make demands, and that's how you got together in the first place, the perfect match.

(it scares him, really, being made for battle as he is. where's your fighting spirit? wouldn't you cry and scream and beg if he was going to leave you? wouldn't you go to war for your love? he knows he would.)

but deep down he knows it's there. a massive part of his life is hidden from you - things that are important to him; his mission, his students, his power.

he doesn't know what to do, really.

he wants to keep you safe, unworried. he wants to keep this island of peaceful, mundane happiness in his life.

he wants you to love him, wholly and completely, for all that he is. he wants to hear you tell him he's doing it right. that you're proud of him.

there's so much he wants now, compared to when his life was just teaching students, killing curses, and waiting for the day he'd have to kill his only friend.

satoru isn't sure which one is better. because even though he hopes he can have you how he wants, and the rest of his life too -

he's starting to think it might not be possible.

[bokettochild]

Just saw the update!

So, first thoughts!

Gremlin Legend and Sky is something I am LIVING for. Sky's little look of approval as he stands between Wars and Legend after that little move is sending me!

(Wild is not impressed)

I also really love that JoJo played with Warriors' cape/scarf being capable of doing that, which is a major risk btw, but I love that we see it's potential now!

Like, Legend's timing is perfect (and I love that this confirms the Legend v. Wars dynamic we all love) especially considering Hyrule was literally talking about the same thing and you'd THINK Captain-War-Hero over here would be more cautious because of it (although the fact this implies Legend doesn't trigger Warriors danger sense is GREAT for the fluff fic writers like me!)

Time and Wars looking like disappointed parents though is brilliant

(Warriors with messy hair is so funny to me, help)

The continued portrayal of Time being too harsh with the boys, all tense after what happened to Twilight, that's great. i'm glad the consequences of past events are following them, it really makes this all feel linear!

I also am ALL HERE for the boys finding their differences! Warriors and Wild both admitting to being new to dungeon crawling and the monsters involved is a great thing we've all been playing with in fics, but making it cannon feels like validation :)

Also, Warriors being defensive of that, and maybe a bit prickly about their judgement, I think it shows a lot of him. he's got his pride,a although he's learned to tame it. He's feeling a bit miffed to realize how different he is, but doesn't want them seeing him as lesser as well (although they never would). I can also hear him using a clipped military sort of tone when speaking here. It's just the way his words are selected and strung together that makes it seem he's being very to the point, direct, and cold in his tone, which really sells the whole difference between a soldier and the "average nobody" that the rest of them were (ironic, since he's trying to act like the difference isn't a big deal but only further accentuates it this way).

Twilight being pleased that Epona is fine and just enjoying a meal made me grin so big though. He's all worried for his girl but she is, quite literally, happy as a horse over there LOL

Also, this bit:

recognition for Sky's right-handedness, my beloved! (JoJo is giving us all the easter eggs!)

The fact that the passage is too small to let them all fight though is a brilliant way of preventing some of our heavy hitters and more skilled heroes from being able to do anything though!

I like how that gives us the chance to see Time one-shot the foe and also gives him the impression that the rest are maybe not skilled enough to do this alone. WE all know they are, but they're a handicap to each other right now, and it's only further cementing in his mind that they're not ready for all this, which will make his overbearing speech and the judgement he casts on them in combat all the more an issue.

I mean, we all know the hero's shade was like that, but JoJo has shown Time acting this way from the start

(Deep Shadows P.2)

(Likelike)

So I guess we're in for more of that now, and most likely someone (probably Legend, as it's usually him, or Wind, who is very aware of judgement from teh rest) is definitely going to have to call him on it soon, maybe in the dungeon. Will that lead to some bonding with Time where he has to admit he cares and worries about them as though they're his own? I hope so!

Anyways, all this to say, we really are seeing how much they struggle to work together, so hopefully this dungoen will teach them all how to do that better, as Time mentioned earlier

(Dawn p.8)

Now, to finish it off!I would like to thank JoJo for giving us so many beautiful shots of Twi this time around. I'll admit it now, he's pretty darn fine <3

That said, I'm loving the Legend content too! i hope we get to see some more starring moments from him going forwards, what with him being the dungeon veteran and all! It's great seeing his childish/playful side these last few updates, but I'm really craving some veteran Legend right now >:)

[kotoku]

the touden party with an innkeeper! reader

synopsis - The Touden party was not an unfamiliar name to you due to the gossip other parties shared amongst themselves about the siblings and their oddball group. However, you thought the gossip was a bit over dramatic, finding them to be quite the pleasant guests whenever they visited your inn. 

Overtime, you got sucked into their stories from the dungeon floors and even heard how they prepped monster food. Although they weren’t the most normal party you have ever seen, you grew a tight bond with each party member.

pairings - laios x reader / chilchuck x reader / marcille x reader / senshi & reader / izutsumi & reader

warnings - characters may be ooc..

“You guys were able to eat living armor!? That’s so weird but cool!” 

“I know right! You’d think they were inedible, but they actually have a type of mollusk in them!--” 

“--I’ll make sure to bring some up next time so I can show you how we cooked it!”

“Really!? I look forward to tasting it!”

✤✤✤✤

✢ You grew curious of the leader of the Touden party, often finding yourself spending more time with him after dinner to talk about different things

✢ He was so full of personality that you couldn’t help but get drawn in to him– cooking his favorite meals, indulging in his monster facts, and helping him think of different ways some monsters could be cooked

✢ The stories he shared from his encounters in the dungeon often left you wondering, what would it be like if you were part of his party? (You would shake your head to rid of those thoughts, fully knowing that you would be useless if it came to fighting/supporting)

✢ When you heard of Falin’s disappearance and his ambitions, you were distraught yet worried for his well-being– what if he didn’t succeed?

✢ A small part of you wanted to discourage him from the idea, for what if it would be all for nothing? Yet, the larger part of you had hope that he could do it, so you offered your support for him and his party if it meant ensuring their well-being (before they head off)

✢ Considering that they usually spend weeks in the dungeon, you’d often daydream about the tall blond whenever you did your chores

✢ People would catch you lost in the clouds, so you’d quickly become embarrassed when someone would say something

✢ When the time comes for their expected return, you had already set up each room accordingly and prepared a meal for all of them 

 ✢ At some point, when Laios returns, you’d leave a small note and a gift for the man confessing your feelings (he finds it on the bed and thought that you had forgotten it when cleaning it)

✢ Needless to say, Laios wouldn’t be able to look at you, face turning a pretty pink when he’s reminded of your feelings for him

✢ Of course, he expresses his own thoughts and emotions in his own way, so it’d take some time before he approaches you with a determined gleam in his eyes 

✢ In his eyes, he believes that you would make a wonderful partner, your caring attitude making him feel all the more fuzzy

✢ Expect him to be spending a lot of time with you during his stays, as he knows that eventually he’ll have to return back to the dungeon depths

✢ At some point, Laios requests that he sleeps in your room during his stays, which you happily oblige

✢ Whenever he comes back from the dungeon, he always has a gift for you (whether it’s some sort of relic, flower/plant, or ingredient that you two could experiment with)

✢ Eventually, Laios would love to settle down with you after he has gotten his sister back 

“My party members are all idiots, _____.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just look at them! sigh I’ll take another round of ale.”

“Ehh– they seem fine to me, but whatever you say, Chil.”

✤✤✤✤

✢ When you first met Chilchuck.. he was quite the hot-headed yet reliable person, always complaining about certain events that happened during their dungeon run (You hear a lot about his party members lol)

✢ Over time, you understood his behavior and could see that despite his mean words and actions, he really did care for his friends

✢ You really admired his stern yet caring nature, always scolding those closest to him with good intentions

✢ Chilchuck didn’t really give you much attention at first, only treating you with basic human decency

✢ But the more his party stayed at your inn, the more he began to make light conversations with you, slowly evolving into deep and meaningful discussions that would last into the early hours of the morning

✢ He starts appreciating your presence more and more with each visit, offering to help you make dinner, chatting with you as you both cleaned the dishes… It felt rather intimate, doing this domestic things with you

✢ When Chilchuck notices that he’s developing feelings for you, he’s overcome with fear and anxiety 

✢ He wanted to avoid the potential heartbreak, for he knew all too well what it felt like when he and his wife divorced 

✢ Despite his sudden distancing and coldness, you’d probably corner him one night to confront him about his recent behavior

✢ Chilchuck’s resolve would soon crumble, explaining his recent actions and confessing his feelings for you with a downcast gaze (He doesn’t expect you to reciprocate)

✢ To his surprise, you do! 

✢ Chilchuck would definitely come around more often whenever he has the free time, helping you around the inn and recounting recent events that happened while they were exploring the deeper levels of the dungeon…

✢ You’re quite familiar with his alcoholism, always being there to take care of him when he’s had a little too much to drink…

✢ He can be quite clingy while drunk, so expect to be his body pillow for the next 8 hours

✢ When he plans to open up his shop, you’re there to support him while also taking care of the inn (Maybe the two could go hand in hand…)

“_____! I can’t wait to taste your cooking, it’ll be the first normal meal I’ve ever had in weeks!”

“I'm sure Senshi’s cooking makes the monster ingredients seem more digestible, Marci.”

“NO IT DOESN’T!!”

✤✤✤✤

✢ Marcille always made you chuckle to yourself at her expressive attitude, always openly displaying her dislike or favor towards something

✢ She was easy to read at times, her heart always on her sleeve 

✢ She was a pleasant guest to have at your inn, always offering help when it seemed like you needed it but you could never put a guest to work

✢ Yet you always find yourself choked up, unable to say ‘no’ to her offers…

✢ You make sure that her room has things that you know she would like, her previous visits providing you experience

✢ Whenever Marcille comes back from the dungeon, she always pulls you into a hug and cries about how happy she is to eat your home cooked meals again

✢ When you both have free time, she is happy to recount the events from the dungeon and is willing to teach you simple spells (that may prove beneficial since you run the inn)

✢ If you were ever to accidentally nick yourself when cutting a vegetable (or get hurt in general), she’d be there to help cast a healing spell on you

✢ You take note of her motherly behavior, especially with the way she is around Izutsumi 

✢ Compliment her, and you’ll get a bashful Marci who tries to play it off (but deep down she’s internally screaming)

✢ She’s never afraid to show you her affectionate and doting side, always picking up things from the dungeon floors to give to you

✢ She absolutely refuses to introduce you to monster food.

✢ If you were to confess your feelings for her one night after dinner, she’d sputter and almost let the plate slip out of her hand, catching it quickly so it doesn’t break into tiny pieces

✢ Eventually, she would recompose herself and give you her own thoughts and emotions, concluding it with a flustered glance and a smile 

✢ She could almost feel her heart bursting out of her chest at your confession, feeling as if she were going to faint on the spot

✢ Nonetheless, she’s really happy and would always look forward to her return to the surface 

“Welcome back! You brought the ingredients, Senshi?”

“Sure did, ready to start cookin’?”

“You bet!”

✤✤✤✤

✢ Senshi was such a pleasant surprise when he suddenly popped into your inn with the Touden party

✢ You’ve never seen the man before, but his amazing beard and mustache are enough to capture your eye (They look very fluffy!)

✢ You learn from him the adventures that the group had faced, as well as the different meals they had in the dungeon

✢ Hearing of the ingredients he used had left you fascinated, wondering just how he was able to make use of such.. exotic creatures

✢ You would honestly take notes as he explains, always butting in with your own questions which he’s happy to answer 

✢ You always learn something new from him everyday.. hm…

✢ Despite you being a responsible adult, he would still see you as a youngin’, always making sure that you’re taking care of yourself as well (and not just your guests)

✢ The two of you slowly develop a fatherly relationship, with Senshi helping you cook, clean, and take care of his party members

✢ You’re truly grateful for his help but tell him that he doesn’t need to go through all the trouble, which he declines and continues about his business anyway

✢ If you wanted to try a specific monster, he’d happily cook it for you and the party one night at the inn

✢ Senshi admires your hard working spirit, always giving you his thanks and compliments

✢ He would rarely stay at the inn and instead stay within the dungeon, but he wouldn’t mind stopping by every now and then, especially with his party

✢ It’s always a joy having Senshi around, and he thinks the same for you

“How have you been, Izutsumi? Anything interesting in the dungeon?”

“..Nah, it was pretty lame for the most part… But at least I got into some action!”

“Hmm? Tell me more about it at dinner! I cooked your favorite.”

✤✤✤✤

✢ At first, Izutsumi was.. reclusive

✢ Always keeping to herself and only interacting with those if she needs to, but she was a bit different when it came to her party members

✢ You noticed how she seemed to have opened up to her fellow members, speaking her mind and becoming much more expressive

✢ She didn’t say much to you at first, but over time, she slowly began to warm up to you

✢ Despite her openly making conversation with you whenever she comes back from the dungeon (or whatever it is that she’s doing), she still keeps her distance just a bit

✢ You’re determined to get to know her, but you’ll never force her to do something she wouldn’t like

✢ You are aware of her table mannerisms and pickiness, yet you don’t mind, always finding a meal that she would enjoy 

✢ Eventually her table mannerisms would get better with the help of you and her party members

✢ You never cared much for the fact that she was a beastkin, instead welcoming her with open arms to the inn when she first came

✢ Sometimes you would find her room a mess, some scratches lingering on the desk or drawers.. you’d give her a small scolding later

✢ Izutsumi honestly sees you as her mother/older sister figure, always doting and caring for her even if she didn’t want it (She’ll never tell you)

✢ At one point she probably called you ‘mom’ by accident, immediately running back to her room to hide away from you for the rest of the day until dinner comes around

✢ She has her walls built up around her but they eventually begin to crumble the more she talks with you over dinner or at night when she can’t sleep

✢ Depending on how she’s feeling, she’d be interested in your history and why you continue to manage this inn, seeing it as a boring job

✢ Izutsumi comes to understand you after a while, and eventually when she returns back to the surface, she finds herself anticipating your presence and meals