#so you complain about it while they are doing way worst in the background

[the-mad-rat1]

Watching my moots rant about characters they like and rambling on how the fandom could depict them in a better way: "man, I wish I could do that."

Me doing the exact same thing with FNAF about how it fell off and stuff, and on a smaller note, with sonic as well i.e just ranting about it when it's actually brought up: "oh yeah, I do, in fact, do that."

[lunarxcity]

I feel like it’s not a surprise to anyone that Azriel’s love language would be acts of service with a touch of gift giving. The shadowsinger who has always lived in the background defintely lived up to his namesake avoiding drawing attention to all that he does for you.

If he heard you wanted a particular pastry he would defintely go right when the bakery opened to get one before they ran out and would send his shadows to inconspicuously put it on your desk. You would wake up confused as to how the pastry got there, but would happy eat it anyways.

You fall asleep while getting through your mountains of paperwork? You wake up to find it all done and neatly stacked right next to you along with a warm blanket over your shoulders.

You bring back groceries and leave the room? You come back to them already put away. You began to think all these occurrences are strange but you aren’t complaining. Whether it was the house or some other kind of magic not mattering.

You wake up to the worst fever of your life? You look to your nightstand to find a vial of the best healing tonic on the market and a mug of warm tea.

He would also leave books on your desk that he thought you would like. He based his recommendation’s on him noticing how far you’ve got in the other books in the same genre (he has a weekly meeting with Nesta just for book recommendations).

The way he loves may not be loud, but there’s something so intimate about having someone do things for you in secret. Of course you found out it was him after the mating bond snapped for you, but that didn’t stop him from continuing his antics to your delight.

[arbitrarykiwi]

HI SO LIKE CAN YOU PLEASE WRITE A SMUT OF NAMGYU🙏🙏 like hes your deadbeat baby daddy boyfriend who just stays out and away doing drugs and drinking and comes home at ungodly hours while youre taking care of the baby and one night he notices the little weight you put on after giving birth and how it made your breasts swell and got curvier and shit, n like yall are arguing because he came home really late and youre sick of his shit and its kinda a hate/angry fuck kinda thing?? THANK YOU I LOBE UR FICS

Reckless Temptation

I’m so sorry this took so long!! This was such a fun ask! Admittedly, I’m not the best with topics that involve angst (I love when the reader gets a happy ending and I’m such a ween when it comes to angst endings) so i struggled a bit…BUT I tried my best!!!! It was such a fun challenge for me, I really hope you like it 😩🫶

Warnings: smut (18+) , toxic themes (nothin crazy, he just a bum babydaddy) , toxic relationship , relationship issues , drug / alcohol mention , oral (f receiving) , p in v sex , choking, dirty talk , hate fucking (relatively tame) , rough sex , nam-gyu is a warning himself in this one , creampie , breeding kink , read at your own risk

You don’t know why you stayed or why you continued to let him fuck you over.

Well… you did know…

Every time you looked at the infant in your arms, the one that has her dad’s smile and eyes, you literally couldn’t bring yourself to leave.

You swear sometimes when she laughs, it sounds like his laugh and you want to call him over and show him how precious the sight is- but he’s hardly ever there. He’s never in your shared apartment. He’s never there to help out with your child.

He’s always late coming home- sure you know the club promoting gig he’s got has weird hours but even on the days you know he’s off, he’s not retuning until 3am. He’s also always high, on what, you could never figure it out it changes week by week it seemed. Sometimes he’d smell like a walking ounce of weed when he’s stumbling through the door, other nights his pupils are just blown and he’s jittery.

Admittedly, neither of you planned to have a child. It was a surprise that had you floored. Nam-gyu was the last person you ever thought of who would be a parent, and when it happened, you were sure he was going to leave you when you told him the news. But he didn’t. That had to mean something.

You took care of your daughter, only you. He would show up whenever he pleased to your shared apartment- even though he hardly ever stayed the night he was still on the lease- to drop off his share of rent money (it was never enough), grocery money (maybe $10 if you were lucky), or the occasional thing you had to beg him to pick up the store. He would bitch and complain about how you always bothered him at the worst times, how he has to do everything for you; That’s hardly the case, but he likes to tell you it is.

To say the least, he was garbage, a deadbeat, no good for you. But, there was some days when you would come out of the shower and see him looking over the crib cooing at your daughter- playing with her with a goofy smile on his face. Those moments make all the bad times fade to the background.

Only to be pulled back to the foreground when he stands quickly, stepping away from the crib. He grabs his jacket, turns around, and walks out the bedroom door- shoulder brushing against yours as he pushes past you- muttering a “don’t wait up tonight”.

You know the drill you never do.

Tonight was no different, you had stayed up late dealing with the baby. She was about 4 months at this point so you got into a decent routine even if it did nothing for your sleep schedule. You say sprawled out on the couch, legs up on the cushion and your baby in your arms. Your shirt was up over your shoulder, your baby drinking away happily at the milk that your breast gave. You couldn’t help the way your head nodded every so often as your eyes fought to stay open. At least she wasn’t crying, you thought. You looked down at her with a soft smile, fingers brushing over her cheek gently.

The sound of a car pulling into your driveway makes your head snap up. You rubbed your tired eyes with one hand, groaning, you knew that sound and that meant he was home. Looking to the clock on the TV stand, it blares a vibrant red hue that makes your eyes strain to see the time. 2:57 am.

You groan to yourself, preparing for the drugged out man that was about to stumble through the door. And when he does he’s wearing the usual pissed off scowl he has- like coming home to you and your child was the bane of his existence. You’ve had enough.

He was going to open his mouth to spew some bullshit excuse for being home late, one he’s used thousands of times before, but you stop him by raising your hand. You’re clenching your jaw, eyes wide and threatening as you hiss out a low “Don’t even fucking start.” You adjust the infant in your arms who was starting to slow down on breastfeeding and begin to grow tired.

Nam-gyu scoffs, his scowl deepening, his mouth flops open once again to speak. You cut him off once more- sitting up off the couch and returning his glare with one of your own. “I said…” You seethed through clenched teeth, “Don’t fucking start.” You growl lowly, taking a step towards him, infant still latched onto one of your breasts. “She’s about to fall asleep. I will put her to bed. And then, only fucking then, can you grace me with whatever lousy excuse you have tonight..”

Your tone is one that throws him off, sure he knew he was not a great boyfriend or father, you had every right to be pissed. Normally, you weren’t this confrontational- normally you would sit there sulking when he would come in the door, an adorable pout on your face that he knew wasn’t a cute expression but one of genuine upset and disappointment. He would brush you off telling you he was hungry and wanted you to cook him something.

You finish getting off the couch, it’s an awkward movement as you’re trying not to jostle the baby that had fallen asleep in your arms. Nam-gyu watches, the room is spinning and he’s trying to act like he’s sober because he doesn’t want to get into that argument again tonight- he is far too blitzed to have a coherent argument where he can manipulate it in his favor.

He watches intently, his eyes tracing over your body. You were wearing a large t-shirt and some shorts, nothing new there….but you were fuller. He felt his mouth go dry as you turn and walk down the hallway to the nursery. Your hips were wider and he swore your ass was bigger. The soft, plush flesh of your hips dug into the waistband of the shorts you wore, some of the flesh above the waist band spilling over the slightest bit- perfect to dig his hands into.

You turn into the room, disappearing, presumably putting the baby down in the crib. When you’re no longer in his sight, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. It’s been a long while since you two had been intimate, the already rough relationship was not helped by a newborn, and he was pent up. As shitty as he was, not helping with the baby, not being home, partying and doing drugs- he never cheated. He can’t remember the last time you two had fucked, probably when he got you pregnant, but fuck- seeing your curves, how much fuller you were- he realized how much he missed it. How much he missed fucking you.

You return out the room you put your daughter in, thankful she was a decent sleeper because she was sleeping perfectly in the nursery as soon as you placed her down. He catches you fixing your shirt, getting a glimpse of your tits before the fabric falls back over the swollen flesh. You return back in front of him, standing in the entryway where he was still frozen. “It is two…no, three in the fucking morning.” You hiss out in a hushed voice.

“I got caught up at work.” He scoffs trying to walk past you and head to your shared bedroom. “Bullshit!” You laugh sardonically, “You were out partying with Thanos again weren’t you??” You accuse, taking a step closer to him.

You were partially right, he was out partying- but he was also working. With Thanos rap career taking off and Thanos needing VIP privileges at Club Pentagon, if he was there he was getting paid extra. Sure he did more than his fair share of drugs and came home plastered hours after he stopped working and getting paid- but he was still making money! “I was with Thanos but I wasn’t partying. I get paid double when he’s booked.” Nam-gyu growls lowly, lying through his teeth.

“Fucking hell!” You catch yourself raising your voice and quickly lower it to not wake your baby. “..do you think I’m fucking stupid?!” You’re seething out in a tone laced with venom. “You were fumbling with the damn keys, your words are slurred and your fucking pupils are blown!!” You gawk, he really had the audacity to try you?!

He seemed taken aback, surprised you could even see his eyes and how his pupils were dilated heavily in the low light of the living room. He had to remind himself, you were once like him, partying and down for whatever- that’s how you two met, he did coke off your thighs- you could tell the signs a mile away.

He envied you for that, quitting all the drugs you once did with him a year or so before you even got pregnant. You were stronger than him in that sense, had more willpower than him. You never got sucked back into the scene, even when your child was born you kept stead fast in your ways and weren’t tempted. It was like you thought you were better than him, and you were, but that just pissed him off more.

“God forbid I try and have some fun.” He says as he glares down at you. You go to speak, fuming at this point, “That’s not what-“ you almost want to scream, your words cut off when you see him roll his eyes, “roll your fucking eyes at me again and I will rip them out of your fucking skull.”

Your voice drops, you’re speaking through your teeth and getting up in his face. It would be threatening, he knows you would be the one to do it- but all he can think about is how thick your thighs look against the shorts you wore. He remembers those shorts, they used to fit looser, but now they dig into the plush flesh so deliciously has his mind is going blank. But the way you’re in his face- scolding him like some child, finger waving inches from his nose- is pissing him the fuck off.

His hand darts up in a quick motion that you have no way of intercepting. His hand wraps around your wrist, ringed fingers digging into your skin. “All you do is fucking run your mouth.” Nam-Gyu growls, he knows you have every right to yell at him, to be pissed, but he wouldn’t tell you that. Your eyebrows furrow, even more than they already were. Jaw clenched and chest heaving, you’re staring up at him oh so defiantly even if he was much larger than you.

“And all you know how to do is be a fucking deadbeat.” You counter, getting closer to his face by standing on your tippy toes. “You get to go out and party, probably rail some whores, while I have to stay here with your child and take care of her by myself.” You add. It’s an abrupt shift, he becomes even angrier, pulling you forward into him by your wrist he still holds.

To say he’s enraged would put it lightly- was he a deadbeat? Yes. But, he still tries to give you what he can, club pentagon only paid so much and he had a drug habit he didn’t care to address. Did he stay out and party and leave you at home to take care of the baby? Absolutely, he can’t argue with you on that one. But he never cheated. As fucked up as he was, as shitty as a father and boyfriend he was- one thing he would never do was cheat on you. To him that’s a type of low he always told himself he would never reach.

You fall into him, a gasp coming out of your lips when you meet his chest. When he feels your tits press against him, the enlarged flesh squishing against him- you watch as his eyes flutter shut, he bites his lip and breathes out a large breath, like he’s trying to ground himself.

He is.

He drops your wrist from his grip, hands coming to rest on your hips in a vice like grasp, caging you into him. “Watch your fucking mouth.” He seethes, eyes fluttering back open to glare down at you. “Say whatever the fuck else you want…I have never cheated.” He growls lowly, fingers tightening even harder around your plush hips. He wanted to continue to be mad at you, but the way his finger sunk into your flesh made the blood rush to his cock.

“You’re out late all the time and I can’t even remember the last time you touched me…” You say lowly, all your senses focus on the hold he has on your hips. His hands are cold, the rings on his fingers dig into the flesh and bite at your skin. He’s holding you in place like he’s sure you’re going to run away. “So excuse me for thinking you’re cheating. You also dont exactly hang around the best crowd.” You reason even further, now trying to fight against him and pull away.

He grimaces, he doesn’t even know how it’s possible that you manage to piss him off even further than normal. “You have my location. I’m always at work.” He scoffs dismissively. He wasn’t wrong but when he’s at work, he’s hardly working- he’s taking drugs, drinking, and doing god knows what else- you’ve seen the pictures he’s in the background posted on Thanos timeline.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” You seethe, trying to yank your hand out of his grasp yet again. It’s a futile attempt. “Okay! So you’re at work!? Where’s the fucking rent, huh?!” You say, voice raising, he’s a day late. He looks at you like you’re crazy and reaches into his back pocket and tosses a wad of cash over onto the coffee table- all while keeping you trapped in his grip. “Still late-“ your works are instantly cut off, “Wrong.” He mocks, reaching back into his pants pocket to pull out his phone and show you the date on his phone.

He was right. But it wasn’t your fault, your days had mixed together because you get no sleep with the baby and your child’s father comes home at 3am every day! God forbid you mix up your days. He also was no stranger to paying you late. You normally wouldn’t care about the mix up, maybe even own up to it- but today it just adds validity to his manipulative argument. “You’re still home at 3 in the fucking morning, you reek of booze and your pupils are blown!” You growl, not even caring that the day was wrong. You simply don’t care anymore. “And you’re doing all of this while I’m home taking care of our child!”

You’re leaning into him, getting up in his face with knitted eyebrows and barred teeth. He’s far too fucked up to deal with this, with you- because he knows you’re right. He never wants to face his issues, he never has wanted to, and every day you attempt to make him confront how shitty he was little by little, most of the times without even knowing it. You had always been too good for him, he knew that. He was lucky that you stayed and gave him a thousand chances instead of walking out on him. Maybe tomorrow he would address it and make a change for once in his life. But, right now, his head is pounding, the room is spinning and your hissing growl of a tone is only making his headache worsen.

His grip on your hips tightens, and he lowers his face so very closer to yours. His eyes are dark, angry, but there’s an odd glint of hunger in them that you haven’t seen in ages, it makes your body heat up in ways that due to not having felt it in so long, if now feels foreign. “You seriously don’t know when to stop fucking talking.” He growls lowly, like an animal about to feast on its caught prey. When he speaks his lips nearly brush against yours, the feather light contact tickles and sends electricity straight to your lower stomach. His voice has a hiss to it, like a viper, it should scare you but it doesn’t; it makes you hotter.

You two stand like that for a moment, the only sound you could hear was the sounds of your breath mixing with his. Every time the both of you heaved an angry breath, the hot air would mix between the two of you. Neither of you broke the other’s gaze, trying to win the silent stare off that started.

Nam-gyu breaks first, his eyes dropping to your chest, watching the rise and fall of your enlarged breasts from under the shirt- his resolve is out the window. He’s on your lips in an instant. You’re letting out a muffled sound of protest into his mouth, fighting against him and trying to pull away. But with the grip he still has on your wrist and the frantic movement of his lips keeps you still. You find yourself melting into it- you missed his kisses. Missed him.

As much as you want to pull back and continue to fight with him-you can’t. You relax into him, lips moving with his- almost rivaling his eagerness. When he feels you give in, his hands drop to your waist, nails biting into your plush flesh over the fabric of your shirt. You’re panting helplessly into his mouth, so desperate for the attention you’ve been deprived of for months. He’s pushing you backwards, guiding you further into the living room.

In a mess of lips and spit, you’re falling back first onto the couch and he’s following you, coming to straddle your thighs- hovering over you. His hands are back on you in an instant, running up your thighs and squeezing. His lips are back on yours, it’s a messy kiss that reminds you of how you two were when you first met. It’s sloppy, full of spit, and oh so Devine. You’re arching up into his touch, his cold hands running up your sides and then back down to your shorts. He wastes no time in gripping the waistband and tugging the fabric down your hips.

He’s pulling your shorts off you hastily and you help kick them off, whining into the kiss. Your lips don’t part once, he’s sucking your tongue into his mouth expertly, he knows exactly what to do to get your mind to go blank. He’s rough, hands gripping and kneading at your flesh like he can’t get enough.

He pulls away from the kiss to lift your shirt over your head. He wastes no time in pulling the fabric over your head and tossing it to an unknown corner of the living room. When the cool air hits your bare skin you’re overtly aware of your bare form. You two haven’t been intimate since you got pregnant. Your body has changed in ways that admittedly you weren’t fond of. A wave of self conscious that rolls through you when you see Nam-Gyu above you, eyes flitting down your naked from like he’s trying to memorize you.

It makes you want to cover yourself- so you do. Your arms fall over yourself to cover your breasts and stomach, shielding yourself from his gaze. His brows furrow and a growl resounds from his throat. You cant even fight him when he grabs your wrists and pulls your arms away from your body, pinning them to the couch. “Don’t you dare fucking hide from me.” His voice is low, almost threatening, and does nothing to help the wetness that grows between your legs.

“Yeah…that’s it, ma.” He rasps, nodding his head slowly, eyes trained on your body. His hands let go of your wrists, you know better than to move your arms back over your body- he would get up and leave you hot and bothered if you disobeyed- he lets out an accepting hum when you keep your arms by your sides.

“Mmm…beautiful fuckin tits…” he coos in a low, gravely tone, his hands reaching up to grasp at the doughy mounds of flesh. He’s kneading your breasts, you can feel the way his cock is straining against his pants, twitching and growing against your thigh with each movement of his hands. “So swollen now, huh?” He says as he leans down, his mouth latching onto one of your nipples.

You’re so sensitive, it’s almost like an electric jolt that runs up your spine. He hums into your skin when he feels your body shake against him. The breast that isn’t being attacked by his mouth is being kneaded in his hand. He’s pinching your nipple, rolling it between his fingers to bring the bud to a stiff peak. You’re helpless underneath him and his mouth is relentless. He can’t get enough of your enlarged tits, he’s switching his mouth to the breast that once was in his hand- wanting to give the same amount of attention to both of the picturesque tits before him.

He pulls off your nipple with an obscene ‘pop’, the sound only adding to the overwhelming feeling you’re experiencing. All this attention after going months without it, it felt surreal. You knew you should push him off and scold him, kick him out, but it feels so good- you just can’t bring yourself to push him away- it feels too fucking good.

“Mmm,” he hums against your skin, you can feel him begin to grind the forming erection in his pants into your leg as he continues his relentless onslaught of bites and kisses, leaving blue and purple patches that blossom across your skin in his wake. His hands are moving across your body, groping at the doughy flesh like a cat kneading a fluffy pillow. “Gotten so curvy, pretty thing….” He mumbles, biting down particularly hard right under your breast. “Such a good mama…” his lips tickle your skin when he speaks.

You can hear how his words are slurred, his hands are jittery, he’s definitely on something and you know you should stop this and not let him swoon you like every other time he’s stumbled in the door fucked up late at night. He’s doing this to soothe your anger, to get you off his case. At least that’s what you thought.

That wasn’t his motive, although that reasoning could apply- he was really doing it to get your guard to lower. You accused him of cheating, scolded him like a child in his own home, you were gonna feel his anger. And he was strategic, manipulative even, you should be aware of it you’ve been with him long enough…but for some reason you’re not. He looks down at you and he sees you softened, you’re panting under him, pupils dilated like his now, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt like you’re trying to ground yourself.

He makes an insanely quick, rough, combination of movements- shifting one of his legs between your legs, pressing up into your cunt, and one of his hands darts down to grip your neck right under your chin, awkwardly forcing your face upwards to meet his gaze more directly. “….but you don’t know when to shut the fuck up.” He has a sadistic, mocking grin twisted across his lips.

You let out a pathetic, surprised squeak that falls into a moan. The rough fabric of his pants pressing into your throbbing pussy has your eyes crossing and fluttering shut. You reach a hand up to grip at his wrist, opening your eyes to glare up at him with some measly attempt of a scowl, trying not to let him win so easily, trying to not give him the satisfaction of your docility.

“Yeahhh…” he mocks, a wide grin on his face, his hand that grips your neck and jaw wiggles your head around to further his mocking, like he’s rubbing something in, “keep that smartass scowl on your face. So fuckin’ sexy when you’re angry.” He hisses, his free hand comes down and roughly slaps your breast, his eyes watch the flesh recoil and ripple under the impact, and when you arch into the touch and let out a pretty whimper his hand is groping at the plump flesh harshly. Of course your defiant scowl has faltered.

He lets out a low laugh and trails his hand down your stomach, his grip on your neck tightening ever so slightly, “see…can’t even keep it up…ya ain’t mad…” he coos in an annoying, sardonic tone. His hand releases your breast and runs down your stomach, nails dragging into your skin just the slightest bit. His hand grips at the flesh of your stomach- like he’s admiring it, basking in the feeling of your softness in his hand. “No~ you’re not mad…” he continues, hand running over your pubic bone, thumb catching the top of your pussy, just above your clit- pulling up the slightest bit.

His view of your cunt is shrouded by your thighs clenching around his leg that is between them. You’re heaving against his touch squirming your hips into his hand, silently begging for more. “Not mad at all…just needy. Need me to play with your pussy, hm?” He says in a low growl, his thumb inching the slightest bit closer to your clit- still not where you needed it most. You’re ashamed of the little resolve you have left, you’re still trying to twist your face into an angry scowl while writhing under his hand. It’s like your hips have a mind of their own, desperately rolling into his touch even though the rest of your body is telling you to stop this and have some resilience to his ways….but you simply can’t stop.

“You’re acting all mad like ya hate me…...” He says, leaning down closer to you, his hand that was still pinning you to the couch by your neck squeezing more. He shifts his knee, pressing it deeper into your cunt. You let out a wanton sigh in response, your eyes screwing shut as your hips grind mindlessly into his leg. His other hand moves off your pubic bone and runs up your leg. When he gets to your knee he’s shoving your legs apart and parting your other leg open with his knee that was grinding up into your cunt.

It’s such a fast motion that you have no option to fight him. Your glistening pussy is now on full display for him to see. It’s shameful, your folds stick together with your own syrupy arousal, thick streams of wetness seep out of your entrance and begin to drip on the leather couch under you. Nam-gyu’s eyes are captivated by your cunt, he’s biting his lip and breathing heavy like a lion about to eat a bountiful feast of meat- animalistic, primal. “Ohoo~” he says with a mocking tilt of his head, “yeah, you can act mad all you want…but, she’s not mad at me.” He says, his fingers sliding inwards and down your spread leg, pulling your folds to the side to see you fully.

“Ohhhhh….” He drawls out, licking his lips at the sight. His hand on your neck loosens its grip and trails down your body to mirror his other hand, spreading you completely. You’re on full display, there’s no hiding the effect he had on you, there’s no denying that your anger has long since been overrun by lust and need, and he’s staring so hard- it’s so embarrassing. He can see how your cunt clenches around nothing, quivering as if to further show your bashfulness. “Already fucking soaked, what a slut. Barely even have to touch you and your needy pussy’s already crying f’me.”

Your eyebrows turn upwards, you’re biting your lip hard enough to draw blood, trying to keep your noises suppressed. With your lips pulled apart by his thumbs, your puffy clit is on full display. Nam-gyu is cursing to himself, pulling away one hand to hastily undo the button of his pants and unzip the zipper. He’s pushing his boxers and his pants down his thigh to free his aching cock from its confines. He’s thick, veiny, and has a mean upward curve that no matter how hard you try, you can never forget how good it makes your pussy feel.

He pumps his dick a few times, groaning at the sensation. He stops to return his hand back to your inner thigh, thumb brushing up and down in quick motions over your clit. Your hips are immediately canting upwards off the couch, a gasp is pulled from your throat and your nails bite into the couch- threatening to tear the fabric. He would normally bask in that reaction, relish in it, thumb your clit over and over until you’re singing like a song bird for him. But, that was normally; it wasn’t now.

“You better keep your hips still, brat. This isn’t a reward for you.” He barks, looking up at you with dark, narrowed eyes. “I’m jus’ takin whats mine, ‘s not for you.” He scolds, you know he’s still set on punishing you. And for some reason, you let him. You’re looking down at him desperately and panting, eyebrows furrowed together in concentration as you try so hard to keep your hips still so you can get the attention you so desperately need. It’s a downright sinful, completely and utterly desperate expression, your flushed cheeks just the most perfect accessory.

His scowl turns into a wicked grin when he sees the last bit of resilience you have crumble completely and you turn into a pathetic heap on the couch. “Mhmm…” he nods slowly, “S’ what I thought. Just a lil needy thing ain’t ya?” You whine at his words. He’s speaking in a mean, sardonic tone that makes your mine spin. You don’t even think about it, but you find yourself nodding, letting out a muffled ‘mhm’ in hopes of getting on his good side.

He seems to accept your meek response because he’s settling down onto the couch, lowering his face until it’s level with your cunt. You’re gripping the couch and biting your lip until it’s bleeding, trying to keep your hips still. His breath fans over your folds causing a soft mewl to fall from your lips. Your head falls back onto the armrest of the couch as he licks a wide strip up the entirety of your cunt.

He’s groaning into your pussy when he gets his first taste of you. It’s been too long since he’s been buried tongue deep in your sweet cunt, he doesn’t know how he’s gone without it for so long. He doesn’t ease you into it, he doesn’t slowly coax soft whines from your throat- no, he’s delving in and eating you like a man starved. His tongue is vicious, licking through your folds, teasing your entrance, only to trace back up and twirl in mind-numbing figure eights against your clit.

“O-oh my god…” you breathlessly moan, thighs closing around his head. His eyes roll back and flutter closed when he feels the soft, thick flesh of your thighs tighten against his head. He wraps his arms around your thighs, dragging you up and down his flat tongue, slurping down every drop of arousal that seeps from your pussy. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking it into his mouth. The sensation makes you jump and moan out a broken call of his name, your hips grinding down on his tongue in a pathetic attempt to seek even more pleasure.

When he feels your hips cant upwards, chasing his tongue he’s growling into your pussy. Hands splaying across your lower stomach to push your hips down- a warning. “Keep fuckin’ still.” He hisses, his words vibrating against your clit. Nam-gyu makes a show of eating your cunt. He’s messy, making obscene slurping sounds as he coaxes more and more sticky arousal from your spasming walls. This wasn’t for you, this was for him. He was going to enjoy the heavenly flavor of your cunt his way. You want to grind against his tongue, become impossibly closer to him and sink his tongue deep within your walls- you know if you do, you’ll be going against his orders. He’s deliberately making this a challenge for you. He wants you to disobey him. Wants you to give him even more of a reason to fuck you into complete submission.

When you feel his tongue begin to prod its way into your entrance, you’re keening and bringing a hand up to cover your mouth. You muffle your wrecked moans as he tongue fucks you. It’s such a devine feeling for him, your cunt clenching around his tongue, the flavor of you covering his tastebuds, thick thighs clenching around his head, pussy wetting his chin, and nose breathing in your scent as he grinds it into your clit. All of it reminds him of why even after all the horrible shit he’s put you through, he’s never cheated and he always returns home to you. He wants to savor it, draw it out. Maybe you’ve learned your lesson and he can be nice- give you both what you want.

But he can’t, because you’re sobbing out muffled pleas from behind the hand that covers your mouth and jerking your hips up, swiveling them down on his tongue to try and drive him even deeper into your walls. You don’t even mean to do it but when you realize you were going against his orders it’s too late.

His dark eyes peer up at you through thick lashes, you can feel the sadistic grin that twists across his lips against your sopping folds, you know you fucked up. You pull your hand away from your mouth, “N-no, no, ‘m s-sorry. Can’t help it! Y-you’re not making it easy!” You’re pleading with him as he’s pulling away from your cunt. “P-please! I n-need it.” You try to beg more, trying to get back on his good side and get his tongue back against your clit but he doesn’t accept your offer

Nam-Gyu sits back up on his knees, his hands moving up to your waist and squeezing, “I gave you more than enough chances…” he coos, eerily sweet, “was eating your sweet cunt good, wasn’t I?” He scoffs with a raise of his eyebrow. You nod frantically, your hands reaching down to cover his, running up his arms, trying to sweeten him up, “Mhm! S-so good! ‘S why I couldn’t keep still!” You praise, batting your eyelashes up at him.

You think for a split second that you managed to win him back over, a relief washes over you when you think you’re going to be granted the salvation of his tongue on your throbbing pussy once again. But his grin widens and his hand slide down, grasping at your hips with a primal grip.

“Well, since you want to act like a bitch in heat…” he says, the low timbre of his voice sends shivers violently jolting through your whole body. You’re suddenly picked up off the couch by your hips and flipped over. You inwardly scold yourself at how you almost instantly fall into a position on all fours with your back deeply arched. You hear him scoff at your eagerness, “…then you’re gonna be fucked like a bitch in heat.”

When his sentence finishes you can feel him drag the bulbous tip of his cock between your folds, mixing your arousal and his pre-cum into a stick mess that coats your pussy. You let out a shaky breath, you can feel your heartbeat in your throat. Pushing your hips back, you whine, trying to sink him into your heat. But you weren’t the one in charge here…he was.

He was going to make sure you felt every, single inch of his cock sink into your tight cunt. And he was going to savor you desperately trying to fuck yourself back onto his cock like you have no other thought on your mind other than to be fucked.

“Already makin’ such a mess on my cock. You were so mouthy earlier…” he begins to slowly sink into your cunt only to pull all the way back, “…so bold, all up in my face…” he pushes back in to the tight ring of your pussy ever so slightly, “…so feisty.” And with that, his cockhead finally slips into your cunt. It makes a sickening, wet sucking sound as your pussy greedily sucks him in. “Now look at you.”

A moan is ripped from your throat, the extensive period of time that you have gone without fucked and the devilishly slow entrance of just his tip into your sopping walls already has your toes curling. A moan is ripped from your lips as you drop your chest fully onto the couch, your back arched sinfully deep for him, pressing him deeper into you.

“‘S just the tip and you’re already creamin’ around me like a slut…” He muses, leaning forward a bit to grab both of your arms and cross them behind your back. Both your wrists are restrained by one of his hands. You gasp as your pulled upwards, your face pulled off the leather of the couch. “Heh…. I’m gonna break ya sweetheart…”

His hips become flush with yours in a split second, his cock is balls deep within your cunt. The sudden intrusion has you letting out a silent sob. Instantly, you’re so very full. Nam-gyu is stretching you around him, molding your pussy to the shape of him, removing the thought of leaving him from your mind completely. How could you when he filled you up oh so perfectly.

He stays balls deep inside you for a moment, bringing his hips to a slow grind. “Yeahhh….that’s it… ya feel how deep I am?” He asks, his voice rough and breathy, “Only I can give this pussy what she needs…” he growls, pulling his cock all the way out and then immediately slamming right back in. You’re crying out, eyes crossing and your vision goes hazy. “I’m the only one who can cum in your greedy cunt….” He says, repeating the same motion. When he’s back to being balls deep inside you, he’s leaving over your back and bringing his lips ring next to your ear, “you carried my child.”

He’s emphasizing the word “my” by rolling his hips against your ass, grinding the tip of his cock against your cervix. You hated it, but he was right, the moment you carried and gave birth to his child- you were his. From the moment you two met- you were his.

You’re moaning helplessly, gasping an incoherent mix of his name and curses, you’re becoming boneless in his grasp. It feels so fucking good. He gives you no time to adjust before he’s sitting back up and pumping his cock in and out of your tight cunt. The thrusts are vicious, mean even, his thick girth is stretching you impossibly wide and your pussy welcomes him openly, greedily sucking him in.

“Mhm…there you go…she missed me didn’t she?” Nam-gyu rasps, using his grip on your wrists to drag you back to meet every single one of his hard thrusts. His eyes are focused downwards, he’s entranced by the ripple of your ass everytime it comes back to meet his hips. You’re much thicker, curvier, softer than before. Pregnancy had changed your body in ways that sparked a primal hunger inside of him.

You helplessly sob out, the overwhelming pleasure completely taking over your body. Your hips are pushing back to meet his thrusts, trying to sink his cock impossibly deeper into your tight heat. He laughs from above you, realizing your desperation for more. “Greedy fuckin’ thing…” he growls, it’s a dark, gravely tone that sends goosebumps down your arms, “what, ‘s not enough for you?” He chides like you’re giving him a challenge, you can hear the sadistic grin that is spread across his lips.

You’re gasping, shaking your head frantically “n-no ‘s e-enough! ‘S so good!” You try to plead with him by praising his efforts, fearing the impending overstimulation that is about to be thrown on you. He’s drawing his hips back until just the tip of his cock is inside you, he’s humming like he’s thinking to himself. “Hmm…” he lets out, just trusting his cockhead inside your sopping pussy, “you can still talk…so I don’t think it’s enough.” You can hear the mocking pout in his voice, teasing you further.

Nam-gyu lets go of your wrists he was holding behind your back, hands finding their spot on your hips, squeezing the doughy flush in his fists. He’s pile driving his hips flush against your ass in one thrust, sinking balls deep into your gushing cunt. Instantly, he’s stretching you deliciously, pushing into your spasming walls until the tip of his cock is flush against your cervix. A wrecked sob rips through your throat and you’re falling forward onto the leather couch.

He leaves you no time to gather yourself, his hips draw back until just the tip is inside you and then thrusting balls deep inside your warm cunt in rapid, devious strokes. As much as you wish it wasn’t true, he knows your body like the back of his own hand, he knows every little thing that makes you tick, he knows just how to make you cream around his cock- and he wants to make you a mess. He’s driving his thrust upwards at a mean angle, making sure every thrust is hitting that sweet spot deep inside you. All you can do is moan out pathetic babbles of his name and praises.

“Yeahhhh, that’s it…” he coos mockingly, his hips slamming into you at a brutal pace, “‘s all you needed huh? A good fucking to calm you down.” His tone is hushed, his hands are leaving a bruising grip on your hips. He can’t keep his eyes off the way your ass jiggles with every thrust, the way his cock disappears between the soft flesh and reappears covered in your syrupy arousal.

Admittedly, he was right, you did need this. It had been months since you two fucked and the way his cock was stretching you out, hammering against the deepest spot within you, had your body so overwhelmed. Your hand is clasped helplessly over your mouth, muffling the moans that spill from your lips. His grip on the globes of your ass is nearly painful, using it as leverage to pull you back onto him.

“Missed this fucking pussy..” he growls from behind you, “reminds me of why I got you fucking pregnant…” he rambles on, “gripping me so tight, s’impossible to pull out.”

His words make your eyes roll into the back of your head. Every thrust of his hips bullies his cock up against your cervix in a way that has you gasping for air. You’re sobbing incoherently against your hand, every drag of his thick cock reminded you of how you even got to this point in the relationship- the dick was insanely good.

He releases one of your hips to slap your ass, it’s a resounding smack that stings and has the flesh recoiling under the contact, “fucking hell….” He muses, one of his hands coming up and brushing his hair back out of his face, his eyes never straying from the view of your ass slamming against his hips. “Fuck yourself back against me..c’mon, wanna see it.” He rasps out.

He slows his thrusts, nearly stopping completely. Chasing a high you haven’t felt in ages, your body complies. You immediately begin thrusting back, impaling yourself on his thick cock. It’s a delicious, devine stretch that has you biting the palm of your hand. You repeat the motion, speeding up with every wet slap of your hips against his. “Good fuckin’ girl.” Nam-Gyu is praising.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the delicious release of your orgasm, it’s quick, embarrassingly so, but you’re stretched so full and every time you sink him balls deep into your tight heat- a mind numbing wave of pleasure is sent up your spine. It’s an addictive feeling that you keep chasing desperately without even realizing it. You’re speeding up the backwards thrust of your hips, every time you meet his thighs with your ass a wet ‘clap’ resounds through the room.

“O-h fuck, that’s it… j-just like that. D-don’t you dare fucking stop.” Nam-gyu hisses out, a hand coming to thread itself in your hair and form a fist. He cranks your head back, a silent scream falls from your lips as you keep up the motion of your hips, sinking your cunt down onto him. You couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. “Look at that fucking ass…” He muses, praising the body you were worried he didn’t even like.

He’s leaning forward a bit, his head hooking over your shoulder so his lips were right by your ear. His new position causes the movement of your hips to still, he picks up the slack by rolling his hips into a slow grind. “Gonna cum so f-fucking deep in your cunt.” He growls into your ear. You can hear that he has his teeth clenched, he’s speaking through his teeth like you and your pussy would be the death of him. “O-ohhhhhh, you like that… can feel you squeezing me..y-you want me to cum inside?” He pants, the hand in your hair turns your head to the side so he can leave harsh bites along the column of your neck as he grinds his cock impossibly deeper into you.

“C’mon answer me.. wan’ me to cum in you? Get you pregnant again…” He mocks, “…keep ya like this.” He growls lowly, his hand releasing your hair to grip at the fat of your hips and lower stomach, he’s even punctuating his words with a devious roll of his hips that grinds his cock into your g-spot. A wanton whine falls from your lips. Your back arches even more, deepening into a sinful curve that has Nam-Gyu spinning.

You should say no, call him some name and tell him to go fuck himself. “Nnghh… f-fuck y-yes!” You cry out in a hushed plea, you can’t help it. You need it. trying to thrust back onto his cock. You can feel how wet you were, making a mess of the backs of your thighs and the couch below you. “I-inside please!” You sob, eyebrows knitted together in a pleasured expression. You need so badly to once again experience the feeling of his thick cum filling you.

With both hands holding your hips he’s drawing your body back violently, impaling you on his girth. Every thrust is echoed by a lewd, sticky, ‘schlick’ sound that only proves how much of an influence he has on you. His cock has a mean curve that reaches so deep within you it has you seeing stars. The warmth of your orgasm beginning to blossom over your body and tingle deep within your cunt.

Every time he draws back his hips he’s dragging his cock out of your sopping walls until just the tip rests in your fluttering entrance then driving his hips forward to sink balls deep into you. You know you’re about to cum, embarrassingly fast. Moan after moan falls from your lips as your eyes cross and roll back in pure bliss. “T-that’s it, make a mess on my cock f’me.” Nam-gyu growls through clenched teeth, one hand reaching around to rub quick circles on your clit. The feather light touches that glide across your throbbing bundle of nerves is enough to send you over the edge.

“Ohmygodholyfuck.” You babble out incoherently, fingers digging into the fabric of the couch as you fall head first into a violent orgasm. Your pussy flutters around his cock, squeezing him like a vice. “Mhmm…f-fuck yeah that’s it…” He hisses, his thrusts becoming sloppy, his other hand on your hips drops under you to grab at your swollen tits in frantic motions, the feeling of the doughy flesh in his hands jiggling with each of his thrusts is all it takes to drive him over the edge.

He’s working you through your orgasm with skilled fingers, your body shaking against his as he cums deep inside your cunt. You can feel it, it’s so much. It fills you even more than his cock already did, coating your gummy walls in its milky white color.

He thrusts lazily a few more times, making sure he properly fucks his cum into your spasming cunt. Your body is shaking and jolting violently against the couch, you can hear the obscene, wet, ‘plap’ of the mixture of your cum and his falling out of your cunt and hitting the sofa below you. The room is filled with alternating heavy breaths and the smell of sex. He slides his hands up and down your sides before resting back on your hips and slowly grinding his cock into you. He can barely bring himself to pull out, the warmth of your cunt is literally sucking him in. He can hear your overstimulated whines of protest with each slow roll of his hips and it drives him wild.

Eventually, he too gets overstimulated- your cunt is simply too good, his personal drug he’s addicted to, his own vice (but he’s never tell you that)- he’s pulling out his softening cock with a hiss, sitting back on his heels to watch his cum slowly seep out of your pussy that still is gaped with the shape of his cock. He groans, eyes rolling back into his skull as he tries to imprint the visual in his brain.

He collapses back onto the couch, one hand on your hip to make you follow suit, gently landing back first on his chest. You try to catch your breath, limply turning yourself over to fall back onto him. When you tuck yourself into his side his arm drapes over your waist. He places a kiss on the top of your head that’s so quick and gentle that you almost can’t feel it. You nuzzle his head onto his chest, you can hear the rapid thrum of his heartbeat. You can’t form words. All you can do is let out a shaky sigh. It’s quiet in the room, only sound you can hear is your heaving breaths that eventually fall into sync with each other.

“You have got to change.” You say, the edge in your voice just emphasizes that you’re hanging on by the thinnest thread possible. You want this to work out- you do- you love him and you adore your child. You want to be a regular family.

“I know.” He says, his voice breathless. His arm tightens around the curve of your waist, pulling you into him like you might suddenly get up and run away-because you might- he can tell with your voice it’s different this time, you’re serious. And he wants to change, he does…he just doesn’t know if he has it in him.

I hope you guys enjoyed this one 😙😙😙 I really appreciate all of y’all’s support it means so much!! I’m working through the requests I have and whipping up some noice fics! Yall have fantastic minds 😩 all the requests are so scrumptious

Im trying to gather all my marbles after being sick so the queue I had goin is a little wonky. im working through it and will update yall on said queue of requests next post! Love yew guys !! - kiwi

[denwritesandcries]

Sweet Doe Eyes – L.M

Pairing: lottie matthews x fem!reader

Summary: Lottie knows very well what she's doing now, this girl, with that sad little face and doe eyes, with freckles highlighted by the cold and cheeks reddened burned through freezing. She knows you will give in every single time.

Word count: 1,1k.

Content: '96/wilderness timeline, eepy!lottie, cursing, pet names, cuddling & snuggling, kisses, van being a little shit in the background.

Note: FINALLY got to write for the biggest loser of the yjs. i love her so much.

English is not my first language.

You are supposed to be chopping wood.

Supposed is the key word here.

Normally this task didn't take up so much of your time, you ended up getting used to it, living in the wilderness for so long now. You could perform the same exhausting, repetitive movements with your eyes closed right now if you wanted.

“Baby, when're you gonna come inside?”

It turns out that the damn hatchet was blunt and everything in this place seemed to be a thousand times more difficult when done in winter, your warm body was now beginning to tremble in contact with the blizzard that was beginning to fall and your girlfriend was impatient.

“In a second, Lot.” You lift your head to look at her, adjusting the makeshift scarf to cover your face again, “I just need to finish this first. You can go back in.”

But Lottie doesn't move. She remains standing next to the porch, with her arms crossed over her chest and her shoulders hunched, as if every second she spent out there was torture and brought her a little closer to freezing, even dressed in so many layers of clothes and with that stupid fuzzy coat she wore over it. The sight is so ridiculous that it warms your heart.

“You know I can't sleep without you.” She muffles a yawn with her hand, blinking slowly to look at you with bright eyes and a sleepy look. You sigh, already feeling your resolve weaken.

Lottie sits on the steps of the cabin and wraps her arms around her knees, letting her cheek fall to rest on top of them, clearly indicating that she intends to wait for you when she sees you return to position yourself by the logs.

“Sweetie—" you stutter, “you don’t need to wait for me.”

You try to argue, feeling guilty when you see your girlfriend curled up like a kicked puppy and even more so when she lifts her head to look at you for a moment, deep dark eyes looking too innocent for their knowing depths.

“I wouldn't need to if you'd just come in.”

Lottie knows very well what she's doing now, this girl, with that sad little face and doe eyes, with freckles highlighted by the cold and cheeks reddened burned through freezing. She knows you will give in.

You think about shrugging your shoulders and actually finishing the task with her there out of pure spite, just because she can't go around winking and expecting you to do whatever she wants whenever she wants like that.

But… it's really cold and it's been dark for a while now and Lottie looks so sad and lonely by the door, waiting for you.

“...Fine.” You sigh, giving up.

Your teammates are definitely going to complain about you not finishing this and you're definitely going to take on the worst assignments along with Misty over the next few days, but it's hard to focus on that when Lottie's pout melts away.

“Finally!” You choose to ignore the way she instantly brightens and that sad puppy look is cast aside in an instant.

Ugh, you think, carrying the pile of firewood you've accumulated with you, Mari will definitely be a pain in the ass because of this.

Lottie is shifting her weight from one leg to the other anxiously when you turn to her again, grabbing your now empty hands and practically dragging you into the cabin.

You are hit by the heat the moment you enter and scattered across the floor are several bodies piled up near the fireplace so you have to let go of your hands to dodge them without kicking or tripping anyone. And Lottie looks upset again when you stop near the fire so you can warm your hands and pour yourself some tea – it's mostly just hot water now, but it's still better than nothing.

“Baby,” she whines, wrapping her arms around your body and pulling you against her, “I’m tired.”

“I know, Lot.” You rest your hand on top of hers gently. “Just let me warm up a little.”

Lottie squeezes her waist: “But I can warm you up—”

A hand abruptly grabbing your ankle scares the hell out of you and Van is on the floor looking annoyed.

“Baby,” she mocks, “Just go to sleep with her already so we can finally sleep too, Jesus.”

“Oh, fuck you—”

“She's right.” Lottie whines again, grabbing your chin and turning your face to hers, blinking her eyes at you sadly. “Let’s go, please?”

You immediately soften, “Of course, hun.”

You two end up somewhat separated from the others, wrapping yourself in the remaining blankets and Lottie immediately falls on top of you, burying her face in your neck.

“You’re so needy,” you tease.

Lottie lets out a hum, resting her chin on your chest contentedly to look up at you, her eyes shining with satisfaction, “I’m just really persuasive.”

You shake your head in amusement at her, enjoying the way she looks at you tenderly, her body pressing completely against yours now. You kiss her cheek gently.

“Whatever you say, baby.”

Lottie giggles, moving impossibly closer to capture your lips with hers and you sigh in contentment against her chapped lips until you feel a pair of incredibly cold hands sneak beneath all of your clothing and absorb all of your heat.

“Shit— Lottie!” You squirm, but it's useless trying to escape with the weight of a body on top of yours.

“Don’t go,” she says softly, rubbing circles into your skin until you stop moving, “I’m just warming up.”

“Aren’t you supposed to warm me up?” You ask completely indignantly as she hovers over you.

She shrugs, “I'm doing that too.”

“You are such a charm, aren't you?” And then you flick the faded spot on her forehead, just because you can't help but totally react to her little revenge for making her go outside to get you.

“Ouch,” she rubs the scar, trying to sound annoyed, but you know there's no real bite behind it.

You smile at Lottie and she smiles back, finally giving in when you pull her up and kiss her forehead in apology and she settles back on top of you. This time, you both feel warm inside.

“I love you, Lot.” You say.

Her eyes light up again, “I—”

You hear a dry cough that sounds too fake and you're completely sure that it's Van's way of telling you two to shut up again, you hold back the urge to laugh.

Lottie mumbles the rest of the sentence muffled against your neck, you don't hear it properly, but you feel it on your skin.

[monsterliker]

Monster Boy Friends! to Lovers? Fluff

Male! Monster x GN! Reader

The noise of the show your long time best friend plays in the background. You’re supposed to be watching it, he has been recommending this show for a while now. And now that you have the time to watch it together you can’t focus on anything but the fact that he’s laying right night to you in your bed.

Your long time best friend also happens to be your long time crush. The way he towers over you and makes you feel safe is definitely a perk. But the main reason that drew you to liking him was how much he cared about you.

When your friendship started you two would call every night and talk about whatever thing or things you both were hyperfixating on. Video games, art, books, movies, whatever. The calls would sometimes last from when you two were supposed to go to bed, until when you two were supposed to be waking up.

And then when you two hung out in person he would make sure you were comfortable. If the area was overwhelming you, he’d gently guide you somewhere else. If your food at a restaurant was not good, he would complain for you.

Eventually you two would open up to each other about your problems. You felt safe talking to him about what troubled you emotionally. You also opened up about how touch starved you feel sometimes…

“You wanna lay on my chest?” He asks you scarily casually. His words causing your face to heat up. He had given you hugs, and even let you rest your head on his shoulder in the car. But cuddling? This was new.

Barely able to get the words out, you ask: “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I know how much you like my hugs. I think you need this.” He said while lying down and opening up his arms for you to climb into.

Doing just that, you make yourself as comfortable as possibly while trying to hide how red your face was becoming.

He just holds you for a while, continuing to watch the show. Which you have long forgotten about.

“Can I hug you? I mean- like can I hold you like how I would a stuffed animal? Is that weird? I-“ he cuts you off, giving you a little laugh.

“Sure you can. It’s not weird. And if there’s anything you want me to do just ask.”

As you wrap your arms around his waist you think of everything you want him to do. How much is too much? I mean, we’re just friends. Friends cuddle sometimes I think…

“You’re thinking too much. I can just tell. Worst I can say is no, so don’t be afraid to ask for what you want.” He smiles down at you.

After a moment of trying to get the words out, you finally ask: “Can I hold your hand?”

You start to blush again as you realize that you really said that out loud.

“Of course you can, cmon gimme your hand,” he grabs one of your hands and holds it gently in his own. “Yknow, you if we entangle our fingers like this… you can feel my heartbeat.”

You lay there for a moment out of curiosity. “You’re right! I can feel it. Weird.” You giggle.

“If you don’t like it we don’t have to,” he says as his hand starts to slip away. But you grab hold of it.

“N-no! It’s a good weird. I like it. It feels nice.”

“Really? That’s good,” his hand relaxes into yours again.

“Yeah.. the sound and I guess feeling of another persons heartbeat is relaxing to me..” you say slightly embarrassed. He knows how much you crave the touch of another, but you’re still scared of this being too much for friends.

“I have another request.. if it’s not to much!” You blurt out before you can stop yourself.

He raises an eyebrow, “Sure, what is it?”

“Can you play with my hair? Like stroke it or rub my scalp- I don’t know! That’s probably too much-“

He takes his other hand that isn’t holding yours and gently places his thumb on your lips.

“You’re worrying too much. Like I said, worst I can say is no. And I haven’t even said that yet, have I?”

You shook your head no.

“Right, I haven’t. So there’s nothing to worry about. And I don’t mind playing with your hair if it’ll relax you,” he says, his hand moving from your lips up to your scalp.

You’re not even trying to pay attention to the show anymore. All you can focus on is your friend’s heartbeat in your hand and ear, and how he gently, almost lovingly, plays with the hair on your scalp.

After a good while you assume he got bored of scratching your scalp because he moved down to start rubbing the back of your neck, and eventually lower down to your back.

“Feels really nice..” you are barely able to get out the words from how relaxed you are. You could fall asleep like this but you don’t want to. That would be a waste. You want to be conscious to enjoy every second of the attention. Who knows when you’ll get it again.

“Yeah? I hope it does. If you start to feel uncomfortable just let me know.”

“Mhmm” you hum out while nodding.

Author Note: I have a *spicy* part two in mind. Would that be something yall are interested in? Sorry it’s been a while^^

[gatitties]

War & crack II

—Task Force 141 x young!reader

—Summary: more headcanons with your team as you being chaotic

—Warnings: none

Part One / Halloween special

yeah, I didn't finish my brainstorm and I bring more things from this sudden idea 🫣

─ Listen, you have a lot of problems.

─ And we are not talking about your jokes about death biting your ass anymore.

─ Price's going to go bald before he retires, how the hell are you still alive today? It is a mystery to them.

─ Everyone noticed during a mission where they had to stay in a safe house for a few weeks that you had the same concentration as a fly, empty thoughts behind your eyes lost in a distant point of reality.

─ You looked like another person when you were a simple civilian, Gaz had to pull you so you wouldn't get run over a couple of times for not looking at the traffic lights.

─ Price needs to put on videos of crunchy slime or Subway Surfers so you could hear what he was saying, (Soap won't admit that it also helps him focus).

─ They discovered that you can sleep in any position, seriously, whether it's standing up, in the bathtub, your body bent in an unusual way, now they understand why you complain so much about back pain.

─ Everyone looks in silence when they give you little impulses to do stupid things, like, last time you were walking to see the area and you found a woman walking her dog, you asked her if you could pet it and when she said yes you pet the woman instead of the dog, Ghost dragged you away murmuring an apology.

─ The following days they decided that you would stay at home, they simply fed your stupidity, every time they arrived you received them with the phrase 'where have you been, loca?' while playing a wolf howl in the background.

─ Luckily it was time to return to the base, during the trip you were listening to music, despite having your headphones you had the volume so high that everyone could hear it, Soap stuck to you because he liked what you were listening, the others decided to drown out the noise with some light talk.

─ Once you returned to the base you relaxed, returning to your working state, you focused again, which relieved all.

─ One day they decided that you needed a nickname since everyone had it except you, so they began to investigate your record as a cadet and even your years in the military school.

─ You kicked and fought because you were something else a while ago, but it was inevitable to find an old report where it said that you were violent with some classmates.

─ And in your anger for probably some nonsense, you ended up biting the ankles of a guy, or a group of guys, or even one of your lieutenants...

─ Soap and Gaz cried with laughter because there was a video of what was evidenced and you looked like a rabid chihuahua attacking its worst enemy.

─ Nibbles, at least it was temporary because you didn't entirely agree with the nickname.

— Since you were now known like that, you went from friendly punches to friendly bites.

─ Once you got kidnapped and you returned to the base the next day because your captors couldn't stand having you sing old Justin Bieber songs or listening to you talk about all your obsessions, they tried to cover your mouth but you just kept making too much noise, the information was not worth it.

─ You arrived in the middle of the meeting they had to prepare the rescue, having the courage to enter the room asking who they were trying to rescuing.

─ Price casually replied that they were looking for you until he did a double take, realizing you were there.

─ You were buried in a mass of muscles after the realization.

─ When you're depressed at random times (because you don't understand how your brain works and you feel bad out of nowhere), everyone will quickly notice, like even though you're not the most talkative person all the time, you usually drop some stupid comment, but on your bad days you are simply a piece of flesh and bones that walks without knowing where it's going.

─ The first time they saw you like this they tried to do something to cheer you up, Price gave you a few days off hoping your mood wasn't due to work overload, he even wrote some of your reports.

─ Soap bought stickers and decorations to your liking to decorate your prosthesis, he also told you that he could draw you a design to have your personalized arm.

─ Gaz tried to talk to you but you just didn't want to open your mouth, he chose to just keep you silent company, maybe you hug him, you need a little physical support.

─ Ghost will leave objects scattered around knowing that you would find them, knowing that they were things that you liked or had been looking for (because the poor guy always has to pick up what you forget around the common room).

— Nothing seemed to work until a stray kitten snuck in and lit up your face, so the easy answer was any baby animal would brighten your day, it was free therapy.

— You once dyed the boys' clothes pink by accident, but at least you told them that now they could go see Barbie with you.

— You promised you'd take them to see Oppenheimer, and that's why they agreed.

— You created a group chat just to send shitpost and teach them the meme path.

— Price just leaves it on seen, Ghost has the group muted, Gaz answers from time to time and Soap is the most active, he learns fast about today's shitpost.

— You really resist the urge to trim Price's beard to make it heart-shaped.

— You use the radio to sing parts of songs when you take too long to jump into action, Price scolds you for it.

— You complain that he seems constantly in a bad mood and you open a profile for him on every dating app you know, even on Grindr.

— You found Ghost's profile browsing Tinder and Soap's profile on Grindr... you decided to use it as a weapon in case you needed any favors.

— Gaz caught you red-handed, but you made a deal and he wouldn't say anything if he can profit from the manipulation.

— You hide it like you're hiding war crimes.

— Why does Price have so many likes from single moms?

[mellosdrawings]

Hii!! So sorry for going on an absolute spree liking all of your posts ;; your art style is super expressive & I love the way you use crosshatching! As well as all your headcanons (you are so real abt cane user azul, i didnt realize how many cards he's sitting in!!)

I was curious, do you have any headcanons with Ruggie & Jamil? Especially with your N2 squad theories and their canon interactions durin GloMas, I'd love to see what you think of them~

First, never apologize for any liking/reblog/other spree, you have no idea how happy it makes me to have someone like what I do so much that they dig into my previous stuff!

And thank you so much for the compliments I'm ansbsjsbsjsn about them 💕

For Ruggie and Jamil, I have a whole bunch of different headcanons depending on the situations.

First their GloMas interaction gave me life. I found it so perfect, just the two of them finally letting their inner gremlins take over without worrying about their image. It was PERFECT !

I also love that their Signature Spells have the same "manipulation" base, but Ruggie is about the body while Jamil is about the mind. (I usually love adding Jade to the mix with his ability to force the truth out of others. I call the three of them the "Manipulation Gang". I'd love to see the three of them actually gang up some day.)

Jamil and Ruggie also have the same servants-to-spoiled-rich-kids background. I feel like they'd have the most terrible gossip while washing clothes or something. I just can't really imagine them not be friends of sorts. Just pestering about the latest wild nonsense their master has been up to, wondering if they should exchange their burdens (pre chap 6, Jamil would never agree after that) and just generally let the worst of them show to the other coz they don't mind.

In the context of the N2 Squad, Ruggie would definitely be a needed push for Jamil. The kind of "Please just date him, Leona’s mood is only getting worse and I'm tired and if I hear 'im moan about you once more I'm gonna murder you both" or something like that. Ruggie knows the inner workings of Leona, knows the inner workings of Jamil too from their laundry-gossip, and while I can imagine him strive in chaos he would immediately go complain to either Leona or Jamil if their turning around each other made his job harder. After the N2 Squad starts dating though, I can def imagine Ruggie try to profit off being friends with Jamil to get favors from Leona (and maybe Vil too coz why not?)

(Also Ruggie is def Jamil's first fan when it comes to cooking and always tries to have him give him spares from a previous party or whatever.)

[goldfades]

honestly need your opinion on shy/sensitive reader x luka …. me personally i think they would be pretty cute especially with luka always protecting her from the media

luka notices it before you ever have to say anything.

the way your fingers curl into the hem of your sleeve when you step outside, the way your shoulders tense just a little when cameras start flashing. you’re not used to it—never have been—and he knows you probably never will be. it’s not just the attention, it’s the noise, the unpredictability of it all.

so luka does what he always does. he stays close.

his hand finds the small of your back the moment you step out of the car, his body positioned just enough to shield you from the worst of it. when questions get thrown in your direction, he answers before you have to. if a reporter gets too close, if a fan’s excitement turns overwhelming, he’s there—never aggressive, never unkind, just solid, just there, guiding you through it like it’s second nature.

and later, when it’s just the two of you, when the apartment is quiet and you finally exhale, he doesn’t say anything about it. just tugs you onto the couch beside him, tucks you under his arm, and rests his chin on top of your head.

his hand finds yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles, slow and steady. you don’t have to say anything else. you don’t have to thank him. he already knows.

he lets you stay like that for a while, just curled up against him, his fingers absentmindedly tracing slow, lazy patterns against your arm. the tv plays softly in the background, but neither of you are really paying attention. luka knows you just need a second—to breathe, to let the world outside fade into something distant, something that doesn’t feel so heavy.

he never rushes you. never pushes you to talk about it if you don’t want to. but he knows the signs. the way your grip tightens ever so slightly when someone gets too close, the way your breath hitches when the attention turns to you instead of him. he knows how much it takes out of you, being pulled into his world like this, a world that never quiets down, that always seems to demand something from him—and now, from you too.

you never complain. never make him feel like a burden. but luka sees it.

he shifts slightly, leaning back into the couch so you can rest against him more comfortably. his arm tightens around you, grounding, protective.

“they were a lot today,” he murmurs after a moment. not a question, just a quiet acknowledgment.

you nod, exhaling softly. “yeah.”

his hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together. “you okay?”

you take a second before answering. it’s not that you aren’t okay—it’s just… exhausting. the constant cameras, the noise, the way people analyze your every move, your every word, just because you happen to be with him. you know luka deals with it on a level you can’t even imagine, but he’s built for it in a way you’re not.

still, you squeeze his hand. “i will be.”

he studies you for a moment, then, without another word, shifts so he can pull you fully onto his lap, wrapping both arms around you like a shield. it’s instinct, really—he doesn’t even think about it. just tucks you in, presses a kiss to your temple, and holds you like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

you relax into him, melting into his warmth. his heartbeat is steady against your ear, and the weight of his arms around you makes everything feel a little less overwhelming.

“we don’t have to do this,” he says after a while, voice softer now. “the events, the cameras… i know it’s a lot.”

you lift your head slightly, meeting his eyes. “it’s your life, luka. i don’t want you to change anything because of me.”

he huffs out a small, almost amused breath, shaking his head. “you are my life.”

your heart clenches at that, at the sheer sincerity in his voice. it’s always been like this with him—he’s never shied away from telling you exactly what you mean to him, never made you doubt for a second that you’re the most important thing in his world.

you sigh, pressing your forehead against his. “it’s not you,” you admit. “i just… don’t know how to handle all of it yet.”

“then we’ll figure it out,” he says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “together.”

you close your eyes, letting the weight of his words settle over you. because that’s the thing about luka—he doesn’t just say things to make you feel better. he means it. every time.

and in that moment, wrapped up in him, the rest of the world doesn’t feel so loud anymore.

[gorbo-longstocking]

Do Not Blame the Sea - Chapter 7

Pairing: Emperor Geta/Reader, Emperor Caracalla/Reader

Summary: No matter where you went, Caracalla was there. He would not leave you alone, not for a second! In your attempt to escape his near constant presence, you run into Geta, who, after a mild — for him — interrogation, he takes it upon himself to teach you how to ride a horse. You should have assumed this would end poorly.

Tags: Caracalla’s ceaseless physical contact and flirting, Geta being a prick, my poor attempts at writing a horse riding scene while having zero knowledge of horses, internal fears of experiencing transphobia and misogyny in the future

Word Count: 8.6k Words

Read on AO3

Masterlist.

Caracalla would not leave you alone. After that night in the gardens — or perhaps it started before that, you couldn’t quite remember — he may as well have been attached to your hip. It was endearing, in a way, and you would be lying if you said the attention wasn’t flattering. No one had ever been so enamored with you before. Not like this, at least. Everywhere you went, there was Caracalla, walking so close to you that your sides were brushing. He talked incessantly, mostly about some minor inconvenience in his day, only stopping to gauge your reaction. More often than not, it was an awkward grunt or a strained smile. Once he was certain you were listening, he would begin again. As strange as his new found obsession with you was, you couldn’t help but feel your own pinch of affection for him.

You had seen a new side of him that night in his room. Terrified and screaming, it was you who had calmed him, and then when you were pulling apart at the seams, it was him who talked sense into you. Aelius had told you he was bloodthirsty and cruel, he had warned you that, out of either brother, Caracalla was the one to fear with his unpredictability. You weren’t a fool, you were still wary, but there was a sweetness to him that you hadn’t expected. He had no obligation to pull you out of your own head, and, even if he did, he wouldn’t have unless he wanted to. That was what drew you in, the fact that he wanted to make you feel better. That, in his clumsy, self-centered attempts, he had tried. All of that, for you. 

This was only more proof that your heart was never a hard one. It was soft enough to bleed from the slightest touch. 

Still, despite this fondness you found growing in your chest, you preferred your time alone. You enjoyed picking apart your thoughts in the comfort of solitude. Quietly, you would analyze the happenings of the day, and with expert precision as you continued with your notes, you would delve into how you could excell at your job as physician. Only once the moon was high, would you turn in for the night. Sometimes, when you were particularly enraptured with a medical scroll, you would stay up the entire night. It was a nice routine, one you had gotten used to since your arrival at Palatine Hill. 

Unfortunately, Caracalla threw a wrench in these plans. He would shirk his imperial duties, laying on a lectus in your clinic, to spend his time complaining about how boring you were being. It was hard to focus with him whining in the background, and even harder when he got particularly stubborn and began to get physical with you. He would stand over you before resting his chin on your shoulder, which would descend into him sniffing you, his nose buried in the crook of your neck. The worst was when he would kiss you, lips hot against whatever inch of skin he could find. Each time, you would shriek, unused to such intimate contact, and duck away from him, and each time he would laugh. At your expense, mostly. 

“You are worse than a virgin,” He had said with an air of judgement, though his eyes shined at the prospect.

It didn’t mean anything, you knew that much. You were simply a new toy, and Caracalla’s lustful nature was no secret. More than once, you had walked in on him in the middle of a liaison with a concubine, or two — or three, or four — in an attempt to give him his nightly medicine. He seemed to find your embarrassment amusing as he would call for you to join while you slid his chamomile tea through his cracked door so as not to see more than you already had. 

Today, you had managed to give Caracalla the slip. He wasn’t hard to trick. You said this with every bit of affection you held for him: Caracalla was not a smart man. All it took was a few loops around the barracks, and then ducking into an adjacent hall, to leave him floundering to find you. It wasn’t the first time you had done this, and it likely wouldn’t be the last, though it made you feel a bit guilty. All Caracalla wanted was to spend time with you. Unfortunately for him, however, you needed to be left alone for at least an hour a day lest you got twitchy. 

This would buy you maybe thirty minutes of free time before he found you. You turned the corner, your strides long in an effort to beat him to your clinic. 

There was one time you managed to hide from him for an entire day. However, none of that time was spent relaxing. You hid behind columns, and once, inside of a laundry basket, because, in the end, if Caracalla was one thing, it was persistent. 

When he found you, he was angry, that was a given. There was no pretending that you weren’t hiding from him on purpose, not when he found you on your hands and knees under a table. After a thorough tongue lashing — “How dare you hide from me! When your emperor calls you to his side, you come!” — in order to repay him, you had to join him during his imperial duties the following day. Usually, Geta took care of more official matters. Every so often, however, Caracalla was expected to make an appearance with his brother, and you were unceremoniously dragged along.

How either emperor did it was beyond you. You had never been so bored in your life. Caracalla entertained himself by staring at you from afar, not a single bit of his attention on what the senators and patricians said. He was so distracted that, after all was said and done, Geta forbade you from being present again. He tacked on a condition that when Caracalla was conducting himself in an imperial fashion, you were not to be within a decempeda pertica of him. Not until he managed to find his focus when you were around. Despite the fact that this was entirely Caracalla’s fault, Geta had turned his frustration on you, and by the time he was done, you felt scolded enough to drag your feet on your way back to your quarters.

It was strange. When you first heard about the emperors, they sounded like terrifying despots. Well, they were terrifying despots, as far as you were aware. You didn’t know much about the political climate of Rome outside of the palace where everyone was terrified to speak even a single criticism about the twins out of fear of retribution, which, in of itself, said a lot. You also knew enough to recognize that if Caracalla caught you treating Marianus, he would react explosively — it was a good thing he slept in late. In spite of all of this, though, you were forced to confront the fact that Geta and Caracalla were people.

Two very unstable, very damaged people, with all the power in the world at their fingertips. Power enough to make you take a sip from a cup full of saliva, or beat a man bloody for the crime of not standing up to the previous emperor. It was terrifying what these two could do with a wave of their hand, but as the days passed with Caracalla nuzzling his cheek against yours, and Geta skulking in the background, unable to hide the relief that came from not having go be his brother’s sole keeper, you couldn’t help the desire to ease their burden. That traitorous flicker of warmth in your gut when you thought about either of them burned brighter each day. 

They didn’t deserve it, you told yourself.

It didn’t change the fact that was what you wanted to give. 

An irritated huff puffed from your nostrils as you slipped into your clinic, closing the door behind you. Caracalla would be able to sniff you out in no time. In fact, knowing him, your clinic was going to be the first place he checked. If only the door had a lock like your bedroom did. That was probably the only reason he hadn’t crawled into your bed in the dead of night. 

Yet. It was only a matter of time before he found his way in, which was a problem for future you. 

Right now, you had an even bigger problem. 

At the edge of your desk, with one of your wax tablets in his hand, stood Geta. He was examining your notes, one eyebrow quirked as he took in the unfamiliar language you wrote in. It must have looked strange to him. An alphabet that he recognized, save for a few letters, with words that were both familiar and not, carved into the wax. Sunlight shone in through the arching windows behind him, making his hair seem like fire atop his head. When he saw you, he snapped the tablet shut and threw it back onto your desk with a carelessness befitting of an emperor. Or, perhaps, a carelessness that Geta bestowed to all objects that didn’t belong to him.

Surprised, an ungraceful laugh tumbled from between your lips, “Caesar, you are not due for an appointment. Is there something ailing you?”

“What language do you write in?” It was an innocent question, though his tone made your hair stand on end. Geta began to rifle through the tablets and papers strewn about your desk before he found the one he was looking for. You recognized it instantly. It was the one where you had written down the emperors’ first physical. He must have recognized his and his brother’s names among the unfamiliar words. With one hand, he held up the tablet, an accusatory glint in his eyes. “What is written in this, Alga?”

When you tried to let out a breath, it got caught in your throat. You didn’t know where this anxiety came from, it wasn’t as if you had any incriminating information written anywhere. There were no schemes or plots jotted down where anyone could see them. If you were going to be that stupid, you may as well jump out the window yourself. At least then, your death would be quick. The only problem was that it was written in English, a language Geta didn’t understand, and thus, a language he was suspicious of.

There were enough similarities between Latin and English that if you explained the contents on the wax tablet, Geta would be able to parse what was written. It wouldn’t be hard to turn his frustration into something else. Maybe pride when it came to your linguistic abilities, as far fetched as that sounded. In the end, though, his disapproval chilled you to the bone. All the way down to your marrow, shards of ice pinched and splintered into your muscles, almost as bad as when your parents looked at you like this.

You shuffled over to him, trying to keep your chin high so you didn’t feel more like a child than you already did. “Those are my notes on you and Emperor Caracalla’s health written in the language of my country.”

“Why did you not write them in Latin?” Geta took a step closer to you. His presence always seemed to fill the room he was in, and right now, so close to you, it was suffocating. “Are you hiding something, Alga?”

The way he said your nickname was slow, each syllable chewed and spit at your feet. As much security as you felt from earning Caracalla’s favor, you knew Geta could remove you from the picture without a second thought. Blood was thicker than water, after all. Caracalla would move on eventually, perhaps with the new physician Geta would hire to take your place. The concept shouldn’t make you feel as sick as it did. 

“Of course not, Caesar!” With shaking hands, you began to fidget with your fingers in front of your chest. Geta’s anger, like his brother’s, was nerve wracking. Where Caracalla was hot, stormy, and quick to bite, Geta was frigid and calculated. “It is simply my first language, so I am able to write my more complex thoughts with ease.” 

Geta held the tablet close to your face and tapped the numbers you had written for his, and Caracalla’s, heights and weights. “And these sigils? What do they mean?”

“They are numbers, Caesar,” You said, some strange cross between exasperated and terrified. “Those are you, and Emperor Caracalla’s, measurements.”

Unconvinced, Geta turned the tablet back to himself. He examined your writing with furrowed brows. “They are like no numerals I have ever seen before,” He mused aloud before drawing himself back up to face you. “How do I know you’re telling me the truth, medicus?”

You let out a sigh. Geta’s paranoia was an interesting tidbit in regards to his mental health that you filed away for later, though you could understand where he was coming from. Here you were, a foreign physician, who allegedly brought a man back to life, then arrived to bewitch his fellow emperor, and brother, with your dastardly basic human kindness. It would look bad to anyone. The fact that he hadn’t had you crucified to begin with was either a testament to how much he was beginning to trust you, or just how much Caracalla’s attachment to you meant. 

“You do not,” Came your soft reply. Gently, and without touching him, you took the tablet from his hand and set it on your desk. He watched you with narrowed eyes as you picked up another to hand to him. “If it would help you to trust me more, Caesar, I will translate all of my notes and writings to you. For as long as you want, and for as long as it will take.”

Geta paused, his pupils darting across your features as he searched for the lie he was so convinced you were weaving. “And these translations… How will I know they are accurate?”

“I am sure you have noticed, Caesar, but my language and your language are very similar. You have recognized words, correct?” You waited for him to nod before you continued. “If you read along with me, then you will see I am translating accurately. I will even teach you my language if it will—”

Geta cut you off with a wave of his hand. “I have no interest in learning your barbarian tongue. However, I will take you up on your offer to translate.” With a small hum, he side-eyed you as he opened a scroll. “You are right, our languages are very similar. I cannot help but wonder why.”

Swallowing a grimace, all you could do was give him a small shrug. “I have noticed that too. I have my theories on the fact that my language is based heavily on Latin, even without contact with my country and your empire, Caesar.”

“And those theories are?”

“The gods work in mysterious ways, Caesar. Some topics are too complex for mortal minds to comprehend.”

Geta huffed out a small laugh, his lips twitching. “Wise words, foreigner. However, I feel I must remind you that you are in the presence of the divine, even now.”

“Yes, of course, Caesar.” It was hard to keep your tone amicable in the face of a god complex, yet, somehow, you managed. You had forgotten that the emperors, and the people who they served, saw themselves as vessels of divinity. As for yourself, you couldn’t help but see Geta as a mere mortal. Maybe that was why you felt your lips quirk into a teasing smile. “I am far more respectful in your presence than any other man’s. I am certain you have noticed.” 

“If this is what you call respectful, I shudder to think what disrespect is to you,” Geta grumbled as he thumbed through the papers on your desk. It dawned on him late that your tone was playful, causing him to freeze. He slowly turned to you and gave you an irritated glare. “Watch your tone, medicus.”

You ducked your head, properly deferential, if only to hide your grin. It was silent for a moment as Geta pawed through your notes. To your surprise, it was him who broke it. “My brother is very enamored with you.” 

“I am aware, Caesar,” You couldn’t keep the aggravation from your tone, no matter how fond. Geta picked up on it, though he kept his face turned away from you so you couldn't see his expression.

“Does it frustrate you?”

Feeling awkward under his line if questioning, because it did bother you, if only a little, you waved your hands in the air. “Frustrate? No! It is very flattering, and I… I do not dislike Emperor Caracalla’s company. Most times, it is nice to be near another person.”

“Most times?” There was an edge of warning in Geta’s tone, though you knew you had to respond. There was no wheedling your way out of this conversation. A bit of sweat dampened your temples.

You would almost prefer Caracalla’s blunt rage to what Geta was doing during this, for lack of a better word, interrogation. “I am simply unused to such attention. For most of my life, I have been alone, having another so close by, so often, is strange. He will grow tired of me eventually.” 

Geta hummed noncommittally. “If that is what you believe.”

Some part of what you had said seemed to have, once again, calmed his suspicions. With a loud crack, he shut the wax tablet he was reading and tossed it down on your desk. There was already a mess atop its surface, though you had a feeling that, even if it was organized, he would have left it in disarray all the same. 

“My schedule is clear for the rest of the day. Sit, medicus. Translate for me.” 

His request made you pause. Unable to help it, your mouth gaped, opening and closing like a fish as you fought the urge to protest. Geta may not have plans, but you did. Aelius, along with a few acquaintances he had made in the praetorian guard, were supposed to teach you how to ride a horse this afternoon. Judging by the position of the sun, you were fast approaching the time you were supposed to meet them.

It wasn’t an easy lesson to reschedule, either. You had to ask Aelius to get permission from a praetorian, who had to get permission from the head praetorian, who then had to ask the stablemaster. Eventually, it all came down to whichever emperor was available to ask if the horses could be used by the guard. You wondered if Geta remembered agreeing because you were certain it wasn’t Caracalla. He had been glued to your side, so you would know.

“Caesar, forgive me, but, I, uh…” You trailed off, unsure if you should resign yourself to fate or not.

Geta looked up, mildly annoyed. “Spit it out.”

“I have plans for this afternoon.”

His face split into a scowl, his eyebrows knit and his lips dipped into a frown. With a dismissive flick of his wrist, he said, “Consider them cancelled, Alga. You will be spending your afternoon with me.” He paused before adding, “And my brother, once he finds you.”

You swallowed hard. It would be stupid to continue to argue, you knew that. If you voiced your desires, contrary to Geta’s own, you would only earn his ire, more than you already have. 

Behind you, the door to your clinic opened, the familiar creak drawing your attention. You knew who it was. Even while trying to be sneaky, you recognized his footsteps. Geta’s eyes darted around you, another factor giving away Caracalla’s presence. A bit of relief filled you, making your fingers tingle. If Geta wouldn’t let you go to your lessons, surely, Caracalla would. 

A pair of arms wrapped around your waist and you yelped, stumbling forward a few steps, when Caracalla nipped your earlobe. “I found you, dulcissimus.”

“Caesar! Please stop biting me,” You snapped on instinct, rubbing your ear as a splotchy flush heated your cheeks. 

Caracalla let go of you and crossed his arms, his playfulness devolving into annoyance. “Do not pretend that you don’t deserve to be bitten, Alga. You keep slipping away from me.” His eyes narrowed even further when he saw Geta standing by your desk. “Do you find my brother’s company more enticing?” 

What a loaded question. One with a, thankfully, simple answer. You lowered your voice into a whisper, leaning close to Caracalla until your lips barely brushed against his cheek. 

“You are my favorite, Emperor Caracalla.”

A giddy giggle rumbled in his chest, though he tried to swallow it. Mirroring you, he kept his voice low, a triumphant shine in his eyes when he glanced at Geta, who had flopped into your chair to focus on reading your notes. “Prove it to me.”

“Emperor Geta is trying to stick me with doing boring translations all day.” This was a poor idea, but it was too late to go back now. Pitting Caracalla’s affection for you against Geta’s iron will seemed as though it would only end in disaster. Still, you supposed it couldn’t be worse than getting your eyes plucked out with a needle. “I was supposed to learn how to ride a horse, but I guess it was not meant to be.”

Caracalla’s eyes glimmered with cruel amusement, a contrast to how he gently ran his knuckle over your cheek. He spoke at a normal volume now, earning Geta’s attention. “Our genius medicus does not know how to ride a horse?”

Geta let out a scoff, one leg crossed over the other. “Even slaves know how to ride a horse.” 

“My parents didn’t consider it relevant to my education,” You tried to defend yourself, quick to discover neither was listening. While you had expected a poor reaction to testing the waters of how far you could manipulate Caracalla — there was always the chance you were simply very, very bad at it — you didn’t think they’d both decide to make fun of you. Given their penchant for doing so these past few weeks, you figured you were the fool here. 

“Irrelevant to your education?” Geta sounded scandalized by your parent’s perceived stupidity. “How did they expect you to travel?” 

“Traveling using horses has been rendered obsolete in my country,” You said without thinking. As soon as you spoke, you snapped your jaw shut.

Caracalla pressed himself against you, his arm winding around yours. Genuine curiosity gleamed in his blue eyes. “You said your country was large. Without horses, how was travel possible? Surely, you didn’t walk everywhere like plebeians.”

Explaining what a car was to these two would be an effort in futility, let alone a train, or heaven forbid, a plane. Caracalla wouldn’t understand and would ask you questions you didn’t know the answers to, while Geta likely wouldn’t believe a word you said. Your nostrils flared as your breathing picked up, a bit of heat rising to your cheeks as you fought for what to say.

Luckily, it was Geta who saved you with a snide remark, “On winged shoes gifted to them by Mercury himself, Caracalla. I think our medicus is making up stories in an effort to save face.” 

Caracalla, to his credit, didn’t seem angry over the prospect of you lying. Instead, his lips curled into a mocking grin, playful in a way you didn’t see him get with anyone other than Geta, as he leaned closer against you. The scent of lavender, mingled with his body heat, made any coherent thoughts waver. 

“Well, Alga, I think it’s cute you don’t know how to ride a horse,” He purred. One of his hands trailed up your spin, causing you to shiver, before it tangled in your hair. “My medicus is so talented, except for when it comes to the most simple of tasks.”

“Only hobbyists know how to ride…” Though the argument only came out of you in a breathy murmur as Caracalla continued to run his fingers across your skin. The effect he had on you only seemed to spur him on, his flush matching your own.

Geta looked to the stack on your desk, then to you, flustered and blushing under Caracalla’s attention. His cheek twitched, betraying his amusement. 

“And you are no hobbyist?” Despite knowing the answer, Geta tilted his head to the side. “You truly have never ridden horseback before, Alga? Not even with another at the reins?” 

Carefully, you tried to peel yourself out of Caracalla’s grip — his hands were wandering far too much for your liking. While he had stopped trying to pinch your ass through your tunic, he decided leaning his cheek on your shoulder and watching you with a cat-like grin would suffice. “No, never. It is a great impediment to not know how to ride in your empire, Caesar. It is why I am so set on learning today. You were the one to agree to it, after all.” 

Geta blinked, taken off guard for once. “Ah, so that was what the stablemaster was on about.” Quieter now, he muttered, “I was only half-listening to him.” 

“It would be fun to see how Alga handles failure, brother,” Caracalla piped up. His fingers toyed with the fine hair at the nape of your neck. “We could have our palanquins brought out so we can watch him learn in comfort.” Laughing to himself, he nuzzled his nose against your cheek. “As punishment for hiding from me today, I get to see you make a fool of yourself. Every rider falls on their first time.” 

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the contact, even with the harshness that accompanied it. That was simply how Caracalla was, you could accept that, even if it was usually at your expense. There was this allure about him that made him easy to forgive, or perhaps you were more touch starved than you previously thought. Your eyes flickered to Geta, who was no longer smiling. It was gone before you could truly process it, but, for a moment, you thought you saw jealousy in his frown.

“Caesar, I am not going to fall. I am a genius in my own right, I can handle a horse.” Confident in your abilities, you gave each emperor a stiff nod. “This will not take long at all.” 

Two hours later, you found yourself, once again, face first in the dirt. You wheezed as you tried to inhale, winded from your fall. From afar, you could hear Caracalla’s hyena’s cackle echo through the open air. Above you, the Roman sun relentlessly beat down on your sweat drenched body, and the horse that had thrown you off whinnied. Damnable creature.

Aelius helped you to your feet, his hand clasped around your forearm as he pulled you up. When you were certain neither emperor was looking, you shot a glare in their direction, only to make eye contact with Geta. You quickly turned your eyes to the clouds in an attempt to act nonchalant. 

As it turned out, riding a horse was hard. How were you supposed to know?

“This would be easier if you would learn with a saddle first,” Aelius said with a shake of his head.

You scowled and brushed the dirt from your tunic. Considering how stained it was, it was more out of habit than any real effort to get clean. “Not every horse will have a saddle! I must learn the hard way before the easy way, or I will not learn at all!” Planting your feet on the ground, you gave the horse your worst glower. It continued to nibble on the grass undeterred. “I will conquer you, creature! We ride again!” 

One of the nearby praetorians muttered, “Stubborn medicus,” under his breath, but you paid him no mind. It was true, you were painfully hard-headed, so you didn’t find the comment one to get upset about. Aelius, on the other hand, looked about to tie you to a tree just to get you to sit.

“My friend, I think you should take a break. We have been at this for hours.” He cast a nervous look towards the emperors, who were lounging in their litters, drinking wine and eating grapes as they enjoyed your little show. Even Geta seemed amused, though nowhere near the level that Caracalla was. Every time you fell, he would erupt into laughter.

You let out a childish growl, clenching your fists at your sides. “And we will be at this for hours more, if I have anything to say about it.” Calmer now, you turned your imploring gaze onto Aelius. “This is important. I am the only person in Rome who doesn’t know how to ride. What if I come upon trouble and a horse is my only way to escape?” 

Aelius paused, his eyebrows drawing together. “Do you think about these scenarios often?”

“Nevermind that!” You waved him off. “I need to try again.”

With a small sigh, he knelt next to the horse so you could use his thigh as a step to mount her. You were able to settle easily against her back, though she knickered with discontent when you grabbed her reigns. Clenching your legs together, you tried not to slide off her side like you did the first time, resulting in uproarious laughter from even the other praetorians watching. It wasn’t until you were comfortable did you feel a warmth behind you. 

“Here, I will help you learn. It will be faster this way,” Aelius said as he placed his hands over yours on the reins. Your back was pressed against his chest, and his legs were entangled with yours so that you could feel the way he moved and mimic the motion yourself.

A broad smile bloomed on your face, one you directed over your shoulder at your friend. This was perfect, you learned best with a hands on approach, and this was as ‘hands on’ as it could get. “Great idea!”

As you turned your attention on the horizon, you felt Aelius stiffen. Before you could ask, he leaned down to whisper, “I fear you have caught the attention of wolves, my friend.”

It wasn’t until the praetorian stood at attention with sharply barked, ‘Caesar!’s did you realize that Geta had left his palanquin to join you. He didn’t seem happy to do so, his gaze fixated on you, glaring as if you had offended him so severely, he would have to punish you. If you weren’t so high above him, you were almost certain he would smack you upside the head.

“Get down from the horse, soldier!” Geta removed the elegant cloak from his tunic, leaving him more undressed than you had ever seen him, and handed it to a nearby praetorian. Usually, he wore billowing robes that made him seem bigger than he was. Now, though, he was only in an ornately embroidered red and gold tunic, cinched at the waist with a golden belt. It drew attention to how skinny his frame was, almost willowy, especially in comparison to Caracalla’s softness. 

Aelius didn’t need to be told twice. The speed at which he dismounted nearly took you down with him. You wrapped your arms around the horse’s neck, your front almost flat against her fur, in an effort to stay on.

“Yes, Caesar,” Aelius gave Geta a respectful nod, to which he barely got a grunt back as a response. His attention was almost entirely on you and the milky white steed you were perched on. 

You barely had time to blink before Geta mounted the horse behind you, taking Aelius’ position with ease. He was warm against you, his hands sliding up your arms in an effort to pry your grip from around the horse’s neck. 

“The reins, Alga,” He bit out, sounding far more irritated than the gentle way he wrapped himself around you belied.

All you could do was gape dumbly at Aelius who was avoiding your gaze like the plague.

With an irritated huff, Geta’s legs snaked around yours, and while his body hair was only visible when the sun hit it, you could feel the softness brush against you. The feeling of his bare skin against yours made your breath catch in your throat, so different than Aelius’ touch, though no less innocent. When you didn’t obey fast enough, Geta huffed, his breath hot against the back of your neck, and wrenched you upright by your collar. Once he was satisfied, he straightened your posture until you mimicked his own, ramrod and regal. His hands clasped your own, his lithe fingers intertwined with your own against the reins. 

You always took care not to touch Geta. Unlike Caracalla, it didn’t seem that physicality was something that brought him comfort. Quite the contrary, it only seemed to make him uncomfortable. So, to have him draped over you like this was so entirely out of character, an irrational part of you was worried that Geta had been possessed by a demon. Once your more logical side came back, you came to the conclusion that Emperor Geta was, in simple terms, an enigma to you. A puzzle you could never hope to solve. You felt his legs around you twitch as he pushed your heels into the horse’s side, causing her to trot around the fenced portion of the stables. 

“That is how you get her to move, medicus,” Geta instructed, his voice low. You were close enough to him that you could feel his chest vibrate with every word. It was enough to make your skull feel like it was stuffed with cotton. 

“I understand,” Was all you could bring yourself to say. Your voice sounded as shaky as you felt. It wasn’t until now, so close you could almost feel his heartbeat, did you realize that Geta’s laughter was nothing more than a short, choppy bark in the back of his throat.

“And, this—” Geta began, his tone taking on that familiar edge of cruelty. “— Is how you ride, Alga!”

That was the only warning you got before Geta instructed the horse to take off, his grip tightening on you like a vice. He pushed his body lower, practically smushing you against the horse until your bodies were almost at an acute angle. The wind whipped around your head, and a few strands of hair flew into your mouth.

“Caesar?!” The wooden fence that bordered the pen you were practicing in was fast approaching. Your heart hammered wildly when Geta showed no signs of slowing. Now, your voice was shrill, “Caesar, please!”

All you could do was scream as Geta clicked his tongue and the horse jumped the fence to speed off into the verdant greenery that surrounded the palace. Behind you, the praetorian shouted, and distantly, you could hear Caracalla’s outrage, but it was all drowned out by thundering hoofbeats and your own shrieking.

“Caesar, please slow down! If I fall at this speed, I’ll die!” You were holding on for dear life, your entire body taut as Geta veered to the right. With his upper arms clenched around your shoulders, he forced your body to follow his. 

“Cease your incessant noise, medicus, I won’t let you fall.” Unlike your high-pitched yelling, Geta’s voice was low, only audible because of your proximity to him. “Do as I do and all will be fine.”

Unfortunately for both you and Geta, you were far too preoccupied with trying not to start sobbing to focus on the subtle movements of his body. You inhaled a shuddering breath, a few tears leaking down your cheeks. “Please, can we go back, Caesar? I beg you to slow down!” 

Geta released you to swipe his palm across your face. When he began to wipe your tears off on his tunic, you felt yourself begin to slip. “Geta!”

All it took was to cry his name for him to hold you again, carefully righting your position. For a moment, you believed he would slow down, only for him to dig your heels into the horse’s side. She sped up even more with a startled whinny, only serving to make you let out your own warbling noise. 

“I am not ‘Geta’ to you, Alga, I am your Imperator!” The stables were nothing but a distant sight on the horizon as he took you around the outskirts palace. You wondered what Aelius was thinking right now. He wouldn’t treat you like this, even if the feeling of him against your back didn’t give you goosebumps like Geta did. “Imperator! Say it!” 

“Imperator!” You cried, voice cracking with anxiety. Unconsciously, your fingers curled tighter against the reins, and tighter around Geta’s. 

“Again! Roll your ‘r’s, medicus! A true Roman does not speak so flatly!” 

“Imperator, imperator, imperator!” By now, your eyes were squeezed shut, body curled so tight around him in preparation for your inevitable fall. “Slow down, Imperator!” 

“Say please,” Geta crooned, too much mocking laughter in his tone for you to believe any of the sweetness was genuine. The sudden shift in his voice made your heart tighten. 

“For fuck’s sake, please!” You shouted in English, causing Geta to snicker.

“So high-strung for a physician. I frightened you enough for you to devolve into your mother tongue. Normally, I would punish such behavior, but I’ve had my fun.”

Thankfully, blessedly, finally Geta pulled the reins and clicked his tongue, causing the horse to slow from a sprint, back to a canter. You felt your muscles unclench, only for you to begin sliding off. He removed his hand from yours to wrap his arm around your middle to hold you tight against him.

“Don’t relax now, medicus, we still have a ways to go back to the stables.” 

“We wouldn’t have ‘a ways to go’ if you hadn’t taken me on a mad dash,” You snipped, ego a tad bruised. 

“You are like a child, crying over a perceived danger, then snapping at the real one.” The horse started downhill, and with his fingers splayed against your stomach, he pulled you back with him. “Lean with me, medicus.”

Despite your frustration, you obliged, and realized it was easier to keep balance this way. Now that you were moving at a pace you were more comfortable with, you were faster to notice the minute twitches of Geta’s body that the horse took as cues. She moved in the direction where he looked, and once he was sure you would continue to obey his instructions, he released you to retake the reins. 

“Faster, now,” He said. 

This time, you knocked your heels at her sides of your own volition. It must have been too hard because she sped up far more than you intended. An embarrassing squeal ripped from your throat as Geta let out a long suffering sigh, pulling at the reins to get her to slow down.

“I will not always be here to save you, medicus, you must learn how to control her on your own.” Releasing the reins, he decided it was better to grip your hips and allow you to have full control, though his legs were still tangled with yours. “Not all horses have the same temperament, though mine have all been trained to perfection. This horse is one of mine.”

“S— She’s very sweet, Caesar,” You managed to stammer. Not only was your life in your hands, but an emperor’s as well. Now you really wanted to vomit.

Geta let out another hum, that you were quickly realizing was him trying to cover up a laugh. “Gods, your accent is terrible. If you are to speak in public with me and my brother, you must work on this. Repeat after me…”

The rest of the ride was spent with you desperately trying to steer the horse, all while moving your mouth in a way to mimic Geta’s. Your accent wouldn’t be so easily fixed, not after only thirty minutes on the back of a horse, where half of your attention was on not falling off. To your surprise, instead of becoming more and more irate at your failed attempts to copy how he spoke, Geta only seemed amused. Every so often, he would squeeze your hips. You weren’t sure if he realized he was doing it.

“Circus” You carefully copied the way he said it, the Latin sounding ungainly from your throat. After a beat, a giggle made your body shake against his.

Geta pinched below your ribcage, and your giggle turned into a yelp. He did it on purpose, this time, you were sure. “What’s so funny?”

“We have the same word in my language, but it’s pronounced differently. Very different.”

“How so?” When you said ‘circus’ aloud in English, Geta let out a squawk of indignation. “Ser-kis? How ridiculous. The Latin way is obviously the right way.” He went quiet for a moment, and as he thought, his thumb rubbed against your side. You tried not to shiver. “Ser-kis and See-zer, are all c’s pronounced softly in your language?” 

You tried to focus on answering rather than the oppressive heat that Geta was producing. Or, was that the sun? It could very well be both. “No, not all of them. Some sounds are soft, some are hard, like in Latin. It depends on the word.”

Satisfied with your answer, Geta nodded, his chin knocking your shoulder with the motion. The two of you were almost impossibly close, it was getting hard to think about anything else. A sigh of relief made your body slacken an inch when you saw the stables in the distance. Without thinking much of it, you had the horse speed up a bit.

“Excited to finish your lessons?” Geta chuffed another laugh. “If it wasn’t for me, we would be out here all night.”

“You and Emperor Caracalla could leave whenever you wanted,” You muttered under your breath. 

Alas, the two of you were too close for it to go unnoticed. “And miss you making a fool of yourself?”

“I appreciate your kindness, Caesar,” You remarked, sarcasm dripping from your words.

“Tone,” Geta reminded, though he didn’t sound particularly miffed.

It would only take a few minutes for you to reach the stables, and there was one question burning in the back of your mind. You were certain it was an innocent one, but Geta’s temper was so hair-trigger, you didn’t know what would set him off. With a deep breath, you decided to say, “You are better at riding than I expected, Caesar.”

“Am I now?” Behind you, Geta shifted, seemingly uncomfortable. You felt his breath ghost against the back of your neck, and for a moment, you believed that was it. That was all he was going to say. He proved you wrong. “When I was younger, I would wait out pater’s moods by riding. Rain or sun, I would be on horseback for hours, praying to the gods that by the time I was done, it would be safe to go back inside.”

You regretted asking. Hearing about either emperor’s shared childhood made your heart throb with empathy. No child deserved to live in fear like that, and while you had only seen first hand the effects the abuse had on Caracalla, there was no doubt in your mind that Geta also carried scars. 

“Caesar, forgive my bluntness, but…” When you trailed off, Geta pinched your side again, hard enough to bruise. A pained groan rumbled in your throat, and you fought the urge to release the reins to rub the sore spot. There was no backing out of what you were going to say now. “You did not deserve that. Any of it. You, or Emperor Caracalla. The two of you were children, and I am certain there is nothing you could have done to warrant such abus—”

“Alga,” Geta cut you off. Though his voice was low against the shell of your ear, his tone wavered in barely contained anger. “It would do you well to hold your tongue when it comes to matters you don’t understand.” 

A shudder ran up your spine. The rest of the ride was spent in dead, suffocating silence that you would rather have in comparison to the prospect of Geta screaming at you while this close. Once you were back at the fence you jumped not long before, Aelius came around to greet you. He took one look at your sweaty complexion and the metaphorical storm cloud that had formed over Geta’s head, and blanched. Never in your life had you been more thankful to see a friend. 

It took about a minute for him to lead the horse, and subsequently, you and Geta, back to the stables. Caracalla was waiting for the two of you, his arms crossed and expression furious, though all of that was aimed at his brother rather than you. Thankfully. If you had to deal with two irate emperors, you would sleep with the horses rather than go back to the palace for at least a week. 

“Brother,” Caracalla snarled. His lips were pulled back to show off his teeth. “Did you have fun with my medicus?”

Geta dismounted the horse without a word. Once his feet were on the ground, he didn’t bother putting his cloak back on. Instead, he brushed past the praetorian holding it, disappearing back into the palace, a dark aura following him all the way. Caracalla’s scowl smoothed into satisfaction at the display. It softened even further when he glanced up at you on the horse. 

“It seems you put my brother in a foul mood. I suppose that gives me an excuse to avoid him for the time being.” Palm up, he held his hand out to you. “Hop down, melimelum Come to your Caesar.”

Even as used to Caracalla’s penchant for treating you like a dog as you were, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Nor could you help the fond smile pulling at your lips. Once your fingers brushed yours, he jerked forward to wrap around your wrist and pull you down. With a yelp, you tumbled off the horse, into a heap on the ground. Above you, Caracalla laughed, high-pitched and sharp, his delicate hand still wrapped around you in a tight grip.

Once he was done laughing, he looked down at you, a flicker of desire in his features when he saw you sitting before him, your face level with his crotch. “Hello, melimelum, do you like the view?”

You responded with a withering glare that only made Caracalla laugh again. In turn with his own grasp, you gripped his wrist and used him as leverage to pull yourself to your feet. Your knees shook and your legs were sore. In order to stay upright, you had to grasp Caracalla’s shoulder and lean against him, much to his pleasure.

“You are like a newborn fawn,” He cooed as he wrapped his arms around you to help you stand. Caracalla held you close, somehow even closer than you had been to Geta earlier. Rocking you from side to side, he buried his nose in your hair and took in a deep inhale. Not even a second later, he frowned, jealousy darkening his blue eyes. “You smell like Geta.”

“It is not my fault,” You wheezed. Caracalla’s grip was growing tighter and tighter, squeezing the air from your lungs. “Aelius was meant to be the one to teach me.”

“Then you would smell like him when you are meant to smell like me.” When his face slackened from anger, his lips pursed onto a ‘o’ shape, you felt resignation grow in your chest. You recognized that look, and it was only when a smile bloomed on his face, did you feel yourself slump. Caracalla had an idea, one you would be forced into whether you liked it or not. “How are the baths, Alga?”

They were harrowing, though you kept that to yourself. Most of the time, you bathed in your clinic, and only when you were certain you were alone. With a rag, a bucket of water, and your ever dwindling supply of soap, you washed yourself as quickly as possible. So far, you had been assumed to be a man — which you were, even if you had anatomy that would give people pause — and you would like to keep it that way. You were certain your top surgery scars would go unnoticed, but your lack of a penis would not. This was the ancient past you were in, and you would rather not have to deal with explaining the intricate concept of your gender with people who would understand less than people in the future. Being a man afforded you with certain privileges, and you feared that having a vagina would make people assume you were a woman pretending to be a man. The thought made a bit of nausea roil in your gut. 

“They are fine,” You finally said.

Caracalla grinned at you, triumphant even when you didn’t know what he’d request. Both you and him knew you wouldn’t — couldn’t — say no. “Use the imperial baths today. I want my medicus to pamper himself.”

You felt your blood run cold. If you bathed in the twins’ personal baths, there was no doubt in your mind that Caracalla wouldn’t take the opportunity to join you. “No, I shouldn’t. Those baths are for you and your brother only.”

“I insist! I can’t have my medicus smelling like a hound.” With his arm wrapped around your shoulders, he began to half help, half drag you in the direction he wanted. 

There was no getting out of this. Once Caracalla had his mind made up, he would have what he wanted. And, right now, he wanted you in the imperial baths, naked and vulnerable to discovery in a way he didn’t understand. It wasn’t only the soreness in your legs that made you shake now. “I want to take a bath alone. Only alone.”

“So shy.” Caracalla grinned at you, his eyes absolutely ablaze. “The hot water will help soothe your aches. You should know this, medicus.”

A desperate cry left you as you reached towards Aelius in the stables, quietly begging him to save you. All you got in return was a mouthed apology and a grimace.

Your life was a goddamn horror movie. 

A/N: Omg hi, happy Valentine’s Day to everyone! Originally, this chapter was going to be posted tomorrow, but I managed to finish today before work! So, here I am, with a holiday surprise. Praying this posts properly while I’m at work, I don’t have cell service in the building anymore for some reason. I can and will shirk my duties in order to post this!

This chapter was more slice of lifey than the others, and the next one will be too, methinks. As promised, major Geta scenes galore in this chapter, but Caracalla kept popping in like a jack-in-the-box. Give your brother the spotlight for five seconds little man!!! I just couldn’t help it, he’s too pookie. Besides, he’s clingy. It’s in character for him to show up like a poltergeist every so often. These chapters Latin petnames include ‘melimelum’ which means ‘honey apple’ and ‘dulcissimus’ which translates to ‘sweetest.’ Also, if you notice me not conjugating ‘pater’s’ into the possessive, ignore it, I’m lazy and I think it’d be harder to understand if I did.

The imperator scene was fun to write! If your curious what the difference between Caesar and Imperator is, as far as I can tell, Imperator is more a military title. It existed before Augustus rose to power, and basically translates to ‘he who commands.’ What Geta was doing in that scene is a deeply insane and roundabout way to build Alga’s confidence into being the one to command the horse, but he’s a fucking freak. And was also probably, deep, deep down, kind of horny about the whole thing. Tbh, I had to ask a few friends if that scene was kind of horny coded or if I just wrote it at midnight. Get back to me on that chat.

Lastly, I dunno if anyone’s noticed, but Geta and Caracalla use Alga differently from each other. Pay attention to when and why they use Alga vs medicus vs petname. Hehe. I’ll tell y’all the lore there next chapter, but I’m curious as to what y’all think!

That’s really it!!! Thank you all for reading and just being wonderful about this fic, it really, truly warms my heart. I would kill for you random reader! Bet on it! Obligatory leave a comment if you enjoyed sentence, though, ultimately, I’m just happy you’re reading. Stay frosty!

Tag list: @snazzynacho @t6gse370 @cherrysweets-world @justlibra @001mon

[iluvangel]

🖇·˚ ༘ ┊͙[Cleaning with the Akatsuki] ! ˊˎ {Akatsuki x reader}

FT - ITACHI, SASORI, PAIN, DAIDARA

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

𝑰𝑻𝑨𝑪𝑯𝑰 🥀 :

⭑ would love to clean the living room, the scene when he chases the chicken while trying to make food imagine that but he’s running around the living room vacuuming

⭑ he would despise having to clean the bathroom it would gross him out

⭑ he would have a bad habit of trying to do everything multiple times to ensure it’s clean. After his first time vacuuming he would walk around staring intensely at the carpet to make sure he didn’t miss a single thing, and then even tho he didn’t miss anything he would still go over it again just in case

⭑ he would be a psychopath and not listen to music while he cleans, however; when he cleans with you he dosnt mind when you put on a calm playlist (he definitely loves classical music) - If you did choose to put on a playlist then after his vacuuming and and ur dusting or organizing he would take ur hand and spin you to face him. He would start to slow dance pulling you in to follow his lead

⭑ after intensely running around the living room and giving the carpet a good stare down, he would make sure ur done as well and help if needed - then you both shower or bathe whichever you prefer - finally you both can relax in bed and watch a movie or simple hold each other as you both drift to sleep

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

𝑺𝑨𝑺𝑶𝑹𝑰 🪆 :

⭑ he wouldn’t particularly like cleaning but he would enjoy organizing (his tools and such) when he does get into the productive cleaning mood he would need a body double. He would appreciate you helping him clean but he wouldn’t want you moving his stuff around so most likely he’d ask you to sweep or dust

⭑ as I said he wouldn’t really like cleaning so it’s not what he doesn’t like to clean it’s what he does and what he will actually be willing to do

⭑ he would have a bad habit of getting easily distracted, not in the worst way but when he cleans and organize his tools he would think of new ideas for his puppets and start working on that instead (thus why he needs you to be there as his body double)

⭑ he would enjoy having music on but it would need to be low so he dosnt get distracted by it, when cleaning with you he would let you put on whatever playlist you want as long as it’s not on full volume

⭑ after organizing he would ask if your done, if you say yes he would go right back to cleaning signaling for you to sit on his lap to keep him company as he enjoyed it while cleaning more than he thought he would. If you say no he would let out a sigh and ask if you need help and what he can do to make help you get it done

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

𝒀𝑨𝑯𝑰𝑲𝑶 (𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑵) 🪦 :

⭑ if he’s in the mood for it he would go ham when cleaning, he would love to clean the kitchen as he finds doing the dishes and moping calming, but only when he’s in the mood for it

⭑ there’s nothing in particular he would complain about when it comes to what he would clean but if he doesn’t want to he won’t. He is pain, after all. No one can really tell him what to do

⭑ his bad habit would be spacing out just randomly as he’s mopping he would just stare at the floor

⭑ he wouldn’t really like music in the background, he would let you put your music on tho. However, he would prefer listening to you yap about whatever came to mind, he would find ur voice easy to get lost in

⭑ after cleaning he would lean against the wall and wait for you to finish, then as your done we would take you by the arm and bring you to the bathroom so you both could shower. And finally he would go back to work allowing you to stay with him only if you’re quiet. If you asked, after showering he would agree to a small nap or one movie before returning to work

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

𝑫𝑬𝑰𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑨 👅 :

⭑ he would hate cleaning, no such thing as a cleaning mood for him. You would have to do a lot of convincing and nagging for him to help you

⭑ his least favorite thing would be the bathroom, which is why it would be the room you force him to do first

⭑ “eww EWW! I can’t do it! It’s too gross” his bad habit would be complaining about everything because he knows if he does it enough you’ll let him go do something else as long as it’s cleaning related

⭑ he needs music if he’s going to be cleaning he would love listening to your playlists and hearing new artists

⭑ immediately after cleaning he would drag you into the freshly cleaned shower. Then you both would cuddle in bed and watch whatever he wants “you made me clean now you have to watch what I want, it’s only fair”

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

Click here for 🎀 Part 2 🎀

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Long day- matt Sturniolo

Summary: You had a long day at work and matt gives you some lovin to help with your long day :)

Warnings: SMUT, P in V, parsing, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, use of Y/N, Dirty talking, Degradation, aftercare!

A/N: I LOVE SWEET MATT!! ITS MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE!! ignore the song, i couldn’t find one so since he knows sm about bags

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Today has genuinely been the worst and longest day of my life. I’ve worked front desk at a salon for the last year and a half now, i had people coming in asking me about what to do for their hair type, karen’s complaining about their hair, just overall horrible, im just the front desk lady for right now i cant really tell these fucking people what to do, make a damn appointment. Matt and I have been together for 3 years, and have been dating to the public for a year and a half, when i graduated cosmetology school. thankfully after this cursed wednesday evening i was on my way to Matt and i’s house that we also share with his triplet brothers. i pull into the driveway and make my way to the door and unlocking it.

“Baby?” i yell walking up the steps.

“he’s been in his room playing video games streaming for like 4 hours” nick says shooting me a quick smile before looking back at his phone.

i knock softly on the door “jesus christ im streaming guys” matt slams his head set down on his table and opens the door “Wha- oh my god Y/N i’m so sorry i thought it was one of them” he says quickly changing his tone giving me a soft peck on the lips.

“it’s fine” i breath out giving him a smile walking into his room.

“tell the stream Hi, baby” he pulls my hand into frame making me force a smile onto my face.

“hi everyone” i awkwardly wave to his camera watching the chat go absolutely crazy when i entered.

“okay well i’m gonna end this cause the mother of my future kids just got here” he says making a smile appear on my face.

he ends the stream and turns around facing me almost analyzing me.

“why do you keep looking at me like that?” i roll my eyes and make my way to our shared closet pulling out a pair of his sweats and a T shirt of his.

he walks towards me leaning against the door frame “all of your clothes in that closet and you still choose to wear mine, but to answer your question you seem off” he says softening his tone.

“i’m fucking fine matt, damn, all on my ass for nothing” i groan out pushing him out of my way and falling on the bed scrolling on my phone.

“umm okay” he huffs sitting down next to me on the bed “so how was work?” he says breaking the silence of tiktok playing in the background.

i groan “it was long i guess” i place my phone on the bedside table and turn towards him.

“you guess?” he questions giving me a soft smile.

“find it was so dreadful, answering calls from people who can look up these answers on google, and oh my god i had this karen come in and” i laugh softly “and she literally accidentally tried this hair mask and fried half her hair and blamed it on me, knowing i’m just the front desk representative, then on top of all of that this lady yelled at me for eating carrots at the front desk” i say while he’s staring at me passionately listening to everything i have to say.

“did you say anything to that lady who yelled at you?” he asked while looking in my eyes as passionately as he can.

“my manager heard her yelling at me calling me ‘unprofessional and rude’ and ended up almost calling the cops on her for causing a disturbance” i smile back at him.

“well it sounds like to me you need a little distraction from your long day at work eh?” he smirks leaning into me as i playfully roll my eyes and lean into him crashing his lips onto mine smiling into his kiss.

he softly places his hand on my cheek pointing his tongue out a little begging to explore my mouth, i slightly open my mouth as his tongue dives into my mouth immediately taking dominance from my tongue and intertwining with mine. his hand travels from my cheek to my breast giving my bare breast a gentle squeeze causing a soft whimper to escape my lips. his hand travels down to my waist and toying with the waistband of my his sweatpants.

“can i?” matt pulls away and softly asks me.

i smile and playfully roll my eyes “yes matt you can”

he carefully crawls on top of me tapping my waist as a signal to lift my hips up. he pulls my pink lacy underwear and pants down together in one throwing them on the other side of the room.

“such a pretty pussy” he says softly running his slim fingers in between my wet folds collecting my arousal onto his fingers “and so wet” he smirks back up at me.

“matt” i drag his name out in a whine, “please don’t tease me” i stare desperately into his eyes through my eyelashes.

“Only because you asked so nicely my love” he smiles at me leaning down and starts placing mouth kisses directly into my clit flicking upwards with his tongue.

“Oh fuck Matt” I moan out placing my hand on top of his head and pulling at his hair causing him to grunt through my pussy sending vibrations through me.

“You like this hm?” he smiles and shoves his fingers into my hole curving them slightly upward and making me go absolutely insane.

“Yes!” I chant repeatedly.

My walls tighten around his fingers and my clit spasms between his teeth. “Someone’s close eh?” he smirks leaning his head upwards while moving his fingers in and out while reaching my sensitive clit with his thumb making figure 8 movements around my bud.

“S-so close Matt” I cry out arching my back off the bed and rolling my eyes back.

“Uh-huh? You close?” he taunts smiling at me and immediately thrusts his fingers into me touching my G-spot so easily.

“YES- FUCK MATT” My hips twitched upwards “FUCK I'M GONNA CUM” I scream out bucking my hips up.

“Come on baby, cum for me” his voice softens looking down at me coming unglued from just his fingers with amusement in his eyes.

With just his words, the knot in my stomach broke and cum dripped down from me and onto his fingers.

He lightly tapped my leg “I ain't done with you just yet, sweetheart” he said smirking at me.

“Matt I don't know if I can take another one..” I said out of breath still coming down from my very intense orgasm.

“You know your safe word, Y/N,” he says ripping his shirt off. “And you never have to be afraid of using it, I'll stop immediately you know this.” he pulls his sweatpants and boxers off in one freeing his hard cock and slapping his stomach.

he crawls over me placing my legs on either side of his hips and slowly agonizing using his tip to slide through my wet folds teasing me.

“Matt,” i whine “please fuck me”

“Patience sweet girl, patience” he smiles at me slapping his cock on my clit and making me jerk upwards and squeal.

He slowly puts his tip into me then removes it and slowly enters it again and removes it before roughly bottoming out into me gripping the headboard for support making his knuckles white.

“Oh Matt” i moan out.

He rolls his hips deeper into me smirking down at me “You like this hm? God, you feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock, and taking it so fucking well” he groans out.

My legs wrap around his waist forcing his body to get deeper each time he pushes himself into me making my eyes roll back into my head causing me to see starts, My moans become hoarse from the strain on my voice.

“Aww has my gorgeous whore gone dumb? Can't talk? What happened to all that attitude you had earlier?” he grabs my chin between his thumb and index finger.

“Uh huh, uh huh” i bite my lower lip and nodding vigorously.

“Words or I stop” he thrusts his hips deeper into me and maintains his violent thrusts.

“YES MATT FUCK- RIGHT FUCKIN THERE” I finally answer him with a strain in my voice.

My response only made him thrust into me deeper and faster. My cervix spasms around his cock signaling how close i am making a long groan exit from his lips. “Hold it”

He rolls his hips and pounds his hips into mine “Matt” I drag out his name with a moan.

“Come on, you got it” he nods his head continuing to thrust and abuse my cervix.

“S-so f-fucking close” I whisper scream out.

“Cum” he buries his head into my neck moving his hips in a way that kisses my cervix making me release all over his cock creating a white ring around the base of his cock.

His thrusts become sloppier as he releases into me painting my once pink walls a nice white color and slowly pulling out watching a mixture of his cum and mine slowly fall from my hole.

He vaults to his bathroom quickly so no one catches a glimpse of him or me in our naked state to grabs a warm cloth and slowly runs it down my legs cleaning him and me up before lying next to me placing my head on his chest.

“I'm sorry for the attitude I had earlier, I just had a rough day and shouldn't have taken it out on you,” I say “Thank you for lighting my mood up” I smile facing the TV drawing small circles on his stomach.

“Hey don't worry about it, we all got bad days baby, I'm just glad you're good now, that's all that matters to me” he softly says running his fingers through my hair and massaging my scalp and falling fast asleep in Matts arms.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N Pt 2: HEY LOVES!! Sorry I haven't been so active in trying to recover from being violently hungover for the last 2 days LMFAOO… I HOPE U GUYS ENJOY!! i promise ill be active more!!

[rei-ismyname]

Who do you think has been the best at writing Kurt and what is your favorite stage of the character? Personally, Kurt from Excalibur is my big favorite.

Hey! I don't think I've actually talked about Kurt much, aside from complaining about his NPC status and bizarre priest coding (that was quickly reversed) in From The Ashes

It's hard to argue with Excalibur as a defining run for Kurt's character and his themes. He got to buckle his swash and I really enjoy the relationships built during Excalibur (except Brian. Dude sucks IMO) - even if those relationships and shared experiences have been backgrounded of late. I wasn't aware of different authors when I first read it but looking back Alan Davis if I have to pick.

My favourite stage of the character though is Krakoan Age Kurt. I enjoyed him under Hickman's pen (even if the third law was a mistake.) Si Spurrier made some pretty massive missteps in Way of X but I'm glad that his reaction to Krakoa generally and The Crucible specifically was explored. There's a lot of ways to approach 'I need to start a mutant religion' and zooming in on his personal crisis of faith and allying him with Legion really worked for me.

Focusing on people and examining the laws with the background threat of Onslaught was clever, and he reached the only conclusions that makes sense. I do wish it was longer and a deeper dive into the laws, but it'd break the premise a little if The Onslaught Revelation ended and Kurt said out loud that the Krakoan government is corrupt and we need to start from scratch. Everyone nearly died permanently because Xavier has too much power with no means of accountability.

I'd have hated it if he really did start a religion; The Spark was a secular philosophy that addressed his personal crisis and resonated with a certain kind of person. I've seen people call it a religion and it makes me wonder if they read the book. The foray into justice reform in Legion of X is something I loved on a conceptual level - yes he was using his QC position for legitimacy but at its core the Altar and Legionaries was about the little people, the younger folks, those working for redemption. Kurt's pointed and specific refusal to co-operate with Charles Xavier on his authoritarian bs was a great character beat, as was defending Juggernaut's agency and the chance to be better. I do wish the original sin of Sabertooth in the hole was touched on, but Victor LaValle nailed it elsewhere so I can't complain.

Combined with the Quiet Council dissolution in Immortal X-Men I think we'd have seen an upswell of younger, politically engaged mutants eager to reform their home. I digress.

I loved Kurt's time as Spider-Man (or spinnenmann lol) as a kind of back to basics during the worst time for mutants. It's relatable that he'd be overwhelmed by trauma and grief and just want to be 'a whole Kurt Wagner' for a while. Fight some bad guys, have a romance, eat pizza with Spider-Man. I definitely liked the retcons in X-Men Blue: Origins, the follow up in X-Men Forever, but most of all that he was allowed to be angry about it in Uncanny #700. Trust is earned and neither of his bio parents have done that.

As I mentioned, I'm unimpressed with how he's been used in From The Ashes. He's wasted as a background character and I think putting him on the Uncanny team was a mistake. If it was my decision I'd have him as a peacemaker, flitting from team to team and book to book. I especially feel like he'd visit Katschen himself and not be a party to Iceman spying on her. Kurt and Kitty have a much closer relationship. Tom Brevoort has been outspoken about the X-Men killing people in Fall of X - Kurt and Kitty are the perfect lens to explore that through.

I get that he was already taken by Uncanny, but focusing on Logan and Rogue (where their familial relationship 'upgrade' is recent and barely established) to the detriment of other longstanding relationships feels like a waste to me.

It seems I had more thoughts on Kurt than I thought. Thanks for the ask!

[whereserpentswalk]

There's a fallen angel in one of your college classes she's extremely obvious about it even though she claims to be a human. You can tell from the way she's always trying to hide the scars where her wings used to be, the slender yet muscular body type she has tears clearly angelic, and the fact that her body is entirely sexless despite her desire to he seen as female, the slightly sad image of a dress wrapped around her flat chest being the first thing people see of her.

Most people are afraid of her. They've heard of the horrors that fallen angels who've gone to the underworld have committed, the things that they've turned into. They assume the worst, treat her like a dog off it's leash. Nobody actually says anything, but they avoid her, get afraid if she seems to angry, or even just too excited. The professors are strict with her, and the students stay away from her. You hear people saying they're worried she's going to hurt or seduce them when she seems to just be doing normal, if a bit awkward things, like they assume she's the demon they fear she is. Even the undead, the werewolves and the wizards who go to your school are a bit afraid of her.

Eventually she asks you for help with homework. She's so afraid when she asks, she says you seem like the nicest person in the class. But still she's afraid you'll hurt her, or mabye she's afraid she'll hurt you. You have to reassure her a bit, but you help her, step by step. She's so afraid whenever she fails something that she's as worthless as she was told the fallen were, or that someone's going to punish her the same way the other angels would have for a mistake. But she's smart, even if she hasn't had the background to know a lot of things her human classmates know.

You decide to bring her when you hang out with some other freinds. You're just walking through the city streets that are near your campus, it's not that big a deal for most of you, but it is to her. She's never really explored a human city before, and getting to do normal things like this is kind of new to her. Everyone knows what she is, but after a few minutes of just existing with her it stops being the focus. And she seems to happy to just be treated as a normal girl.

There's so much she hasn't experienced before. When you walk by a toystore she's weirdly interested in it, and ends up buying a plush there while almost everyone but you and her and too embarrassed to go inside. She was never a child, so it seems like it's comforting to her to get to enjoy something like this when she didn't get a chance to normally.

But mostly she just seems to enjoy being talked to and looked at like a normal person, without being the focus. Her face lights up when someone compliments her hair, angels are called beautiful a lot but they're never called pretty, they're never someone someone wants to be like. She's so excited to swipe her card just to take the subway with you, and she seems so comforted when being hugged goodbye by you, you think this might be the first time she's been hugged in the thousands of years she's existed.

When you're texting with her later you end up venting about your landlord, he really suck, not allowing overnight guests or pets and the like, and having raised your rent by a lot this year. She becomes really upset learning landlords exist at all, and asks you for his name before saying goodbye.

When you next hear from your landlord he's afraid of something, and agrees to remove all the rules your complained to your fallen angel freind about, and lower your rent. You have a feeling your freind did something.

When you talk to your fallen angel freind to compliment her she seems upset with herself. She was always told she'd hurt a mortal and now she has. You explain to her that that's not always a bad thing, that she saved you, as much as she would have saved you if she caught you falling off a building. You explain to her that just because she's powerful, and nobody controls her, doesn't mean that that power is evil. Even when she makes people afraid, she's still a being of good, it's why she fell in the first place.

[sharkboywrites]

Heyy!! Are reqs open?

If so then can I request the Octavinelle boys with a constantly tired autistic male reader? Like, very sleepy and falls asleep almost anywhere

Octavinelle With a Sleepy Autistic S/O

A/N: Hii I hope everyone had a happy holiday :) I’m super exited to write this because I have an issue with sleeping too much, to the point where my neurologist banned me from taking naps lol

Male reader, autistic reader, mlm fic

Azul

- Let’s be honest, the first thoughts Azul probably had was “how can I profit from this?”

- This is before the two of you are dating though, as a relationship starts, he’s more worried about it and wants to help you

- He’ll go for a way to try and help you, but also letting you take a nap when you need it

- He’ll encourage you to stay awake if you can, but if you really need to sleep he’ll let you

- He starts to track your schedule to see if there’s anything that may be causing it

- He tracks what you ate, when it gets the worst, how much sleep you got the night before, and other things like that to see if there may be a correlation

- He’ll try to not let you fall asleep in class, but if you do he’s got all the notes you could need free of charade, boyfriend privileges after all

- When it is time for you to sleep he’s got everything you need

- He makes sure you’re going to bed a decent time

- He makes sure that you have your favorite clothes, the prefect temperature, any background noise or stuffed animals if you need it, and of course a water bottle because hydration is important, especially to get a good night’s sleep

- If he can’t be there, then he’ll text you a reminder to go to bed along with an “I love you” because how could he not?

- He tries to find a solution for you, but if he can’t, then he’ll be the most accommodating he can be

Jade

- Jade catches on to your problem quickly, even if you’re not close yet

-He always offered a helping hand if you may need it

- Much like Azul, once the two of you become something more, he takes a more critical take on the situation

- He will also try to see if there’s a root to your problems and if there’s anything that can be done to fix it

- He’ll make sure you’re eating the right amount, even giving you meals or drinks with a little more caffeine to keep you awake (if caffeine works on you)

- It’s never things with too much caffeine though, just something simple that will be able to keep you awake for the time needed

- Jade will let you fall asleep in class, finding a way to subtly cover for you so that you don’t get a lecture from any of the teachers

- When he’s working at the lounge, he’ll offer up his side of the dorm for you to sleep in when he gets back

- When it is time for you to sleep, he’s there to make sure you’re sleeping well and the right amount

- Jade will always have your back when you need it, whether it’s needing to stay awake or falling asleep

Floyd

- When it comes to Floyd, he’s the opposite of Azul and Jade

- The first time he notices you falling asleep, he pokes you and bugs you about falling asleep, not leaving you alone until you tell him why you’re so sleepy

- He doesn’t really try to find a way to stop you from falling asleep, but he is good to be around if you do fall asleep once he knows your situation

- Although you may be a bit of a bad influence on him, as he starts taking your naps as an invitation to also fall asleep

- He already has a bad habit of falling asleep in class, and unlike you, he doesn’t really have a good excuse for it

- He also slacks while working at the lounge to go check on you, as much as Azul complains

- Unlike offering up his side of the dorm like Jade, he’ll let you fall asleep in one of the booths, keeping you hidden from Azul

-He may even sneak you something to eat whether you ask for it or not

- When it comes to the time when you should actually be sleeping, he’s great to be with

- He’ll fall asleep with you, keeping you in his arms just like he knows you like

- He’ll get you anything you may need, you just need to ask for it

- Although he might get a little distracted and bring back some things you don’t need but he thought would be nice to have

- While he doesn’t find a way to fix you’re problem, he’s on top of accommodating you, even if he may fall asleep with you in the process

If anything, this kinda just made me want to take a nap lol, ty for reading and have a nice day :)

[xhoess]

Rivals in the Spotlight

Yunho!dancer × fem!bod singer

Masterlist

Y/N is a passionate singer determined to secure a scholarship, often feeling overshadowed at her performing arts school by Yunho, a confident and popular dancer, dreams of becoming a professional dancer while managing the pressure from his family's legacy. When they are cast as the leads in the school's musical, their well-known rivalry escalates, leading to strong disagreements in during the rehearsals. Will they get over their little rivalry and put up a good show?

Wc: I think around 4k

Genre: enemies to lovers, smut, fluff

It is 8 am, and I am currently riding the bus to school. Today is the day I find out who will get the leads in the new school play. I don’t know a lot of people who are participating, but I definitely know one person: Jeong Yunho. That son of a bitch always knows how to get on my nerves, especially when I’m already in my worst mood.

I feel stupid writing this down, but I’ve been doing this for so long that I feel the need to keep this stupid diary updated. Even though it’s 40 percent me complaining about Yunho, it still is a good way to express myself, I think? I look out the bus window as the familiar scenery of my neighborhood blurs past. My thoughts keep circling back to the audition. What if I actually get the lead? What if Yunho gets it too?

As I walk into the school, I feel eyes burning into my back. That only means one thing: the names are out. My heart races as I rush to the performing arts hallway. A group of people is gathering around a piece of paper on the wall. Yunho is there too. Of course.

I push through the crowd, my palms sweating. I quickly find myself standing in front of the paper, and now I get why people have been staring. Me and Yunho need to play the two leads in the play. The worst part is that we need to play a couple. I play Alice, the female lead and yunho plays Jay the male lead.

"No fucking way... I thought you would be a background singer or something," Yunho says, standing next to me, also staring at the paper.

"Shut up, Yunho. You’re as tall as a tree, might as well play one," I snap before walking away.

The rest of the day, I try my best to avoid talking to people and head straight home after school. My best friend Rina calls me as soon as I get home.

"Can you believe this?" I vent, flopping onto my bed. "Of all people, I have to play opposite Yunho. This is a nightmare."

"Maybe you can be so miserable to him that he’ll quit," Rina suggests.

"I wish," I sigh. "But he’s way too competitive to just quit."

The next morning, I wake up with a knot in my stomach. I can't avoid Yunho forever. Rehearsals start today. I arrive at the auditorium early, hoping to get a moment alone before the chaos begins. The large, empty space feels oddly comforting. I stand on the stage, looking out at the rows of empty seats, trying to imagine myself performing without wanting to throw up.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around to see Yunho walking towards me, his usual smirk replaced with a more serious expression.

"Hey," he says, surprisingly without a hint of sarcasm. "We need to talk."

I cross my arms defensively. "About what?"

"Look, I know we don't get along, but we have to make this work for the play's sake. It’s important to both of us, right?" His voice is calm, almost sincere.

I’m taken aback by his change in tone. "Yeah, I guess."

"Let’s just try to keep it professional," Yunho suggests. "We can hate each other offstage, but when we’re up here, we need to be convincing."

I nod, still wary. "Fine. But don’t think this means I’m going to make it easy for you."

He chuckles. "Wouldn’t expect anything less."

The sun is setting, casting long shadows through the tall windows of the rehearsal room. Once everyone is ready for rehearsal we start. Because this is the first rehearsal we only needed to learn the first few pages.

I see yunho get in character and that reminded me that we are going to be lovers in the end of the play.

"Okay everyone, get in place for the first scene" the director said.

I stand across from yunho and did some last warming up.

"3.. 2.. 1.... and go!"

"Alice did you hear what happened" yunho says.

The rehearsals go on for a little more, but I keep forgetting a few words in some sentences. I can feel the tension growing.

"Buy Jay, you never know what happens when you say no" I say, I realize the sentence is wrong. And yunho does too.

"You're impossible, you know that?" Yunho snaps, slamming his script onto a nearby table. "Do you even care about this play?"

I cross my arms, matching his glare. "Of course I care! But you’re not the director, Yunho. Stop acting like you know everything and let's just continue"

He steps closer, his eyes blazing with frustration. "Someone has to take charge when you keep messing up your lines!"

My fists clench at my sides. "I wouldn’t mess up if you weren’t constantly trying to outdo everyone. This isn’t a solo performance, Yunho. It’s a team effort."

Yunho scoffs, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "You just can’t handle that I’m better at this than you."

"Better?" I laugh bitterly. "Your ego is so big, I’m surprised you can fit through the door."

He narrows his eyes, his jaw tightening. "At least I put in the effort. All you do is complain and act like a victim."

My blood boils, and I take a step forward, refusing to back down. "You think you’re so perfect, don’t you? Always criticizing everyone else to make yourself look good."

"Maybe if you spent less time whining and more time practicing, we wouldn’t have these problems," he shoots back.

I feel my face flush with anger. "You’re such a jerk, Yunho. No wonder no one likes working with you."

For a moment, there’s silence, the words hanging heavily in the air. Yunho’s expression falters slightly, a flicker of hurt crossing his face before it hardens again.

"You don’t know anything about me," he says quietly, his voice trembling with barely controlled rage. "You’re so wrapped up in your own little world, you can’t see past your own nose."

I open my mouth to retort, but the words catch in my throat. We stand there, breathing heavily, the room suddenly feeling too small, too stifling.

Finally, Yunho breaks the silence, his voice cold. "If you can’t handle this, maybe you should quit."

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. "Maybe I will," I manage to say, my voice shaking. "At least then I wouldn’t have to deal with you."

We stare at each other for a moment longer before I turn on my heel and storm out of the room, slamming the door behind me. My heart is pounding, a mix of anger and something else I can’t quite name. As I walk down the empty hallway, I can’t help but wonder if things will ever get better between us.

Yunho is left there standing, regretting some words he said.

The cool evening air hits my face as I storm out of the auditorium, my anger still simmering beneath the surface. I find a bench near the entrance and collapse onto it, trying to catch my breath. The sky is tinged with the pinks and purples of twilight, but I’m too wrapped up in my thoughts to appreciate the beauty.

"Why does he have to be such a jerk?" I mutter to myself, kicking a small pebble with my shoe.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a message from Rina.

**Rina:** Hey, how did rehearsal go? Any updates?

I hesitate before replying, not sure how to put my frustration into words.

**Me:** It was a disaster. Yunho and I had a huge fight. Again.

Her response is almost immediate.

**Rina:** Ugh, that sucks. Want to talk about it?

**Me:** Maybe later. I just need to cool down right now.

**Rina:** Okay, just remember, you’re amazing and you can handle this. Don’t let him get to you.

I smile slightly at her words, feeling a bit better. Rina always knows how to make me feel better.

The next day:

The cafeteria is buzzing with activity as I navigate my way through the crowd, holding my lunch tray. I spot Rina at our usual table and make my way over, sliding into the seat across from her.

"Hey," she says, giving me a sympathetic look. "You look exhausted."

I sigh, poking at my food. "Didn’t sleep much. Just kept thinking about everything that happened."

She nods, taking a bite of her sandwich. "Yunho really knows how to push your buttons, huh?"

"Yeah," I agree, feeling the frustration bubble up again. "I don’t get it. One minute he’s trying to be all professional, and the next he’s tearing me down."

"Maybe he’s just stressed," Rina suggests. "This play is a big deal for everyone."

"Maybe," I concede, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. "But it’s like he enjoys making me miserable."

Before Rina can respond, I hear a familiar voice behind me.

"Can we talk?"

I turn to see Yunho standing there, looking unusually serious. Rina raises an eyebrow, but I nod, getting up from the table. We move to a quieter corner of the cafeteria.

"What do you want, Yunho?" I ask, crossing my arms defensively.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Look, about yesterday... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to get so heated."

I blink, taken aback. This is not the Yunho I’m used to. "You’re... apologizing?"

"Yeah," he says, looking genuinely uncomfortable. "I’ve been thinking about what you said, and you’re right. I’ve been acting like a jerk."

I stare at him, trying to process this unexpected turn of events. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

He shrugs, looking away. "I guess I realized that we’re stuck with each other for this play, and if we keep fighting, it’s going to ruin everything. For both of us."

His words make sense, but it’s hard to let go of the anger so quickly. "So, what do you suggest?"

"Truce?" he offers, holding out his hand. "Let’s try to make this work. For the sake of the play."

I hesitate for a moment before shaking his hand. "Truce."

At the Rehearsal Room, Late Afternoon:

Back in the rehearsal room, there’s a noticeable shift in the atmosphere. Yunho and I still have our differences, but we’re making an effort to be civil. Our scenes start to flow better, the tension easing with each passing day.

One evening, after a particularly grueling rehearsal, I find myself sitting on the edge of the stage next to Yunho. We’re both exhausted but there’s a sense of accomplishment in the air.

"You know," I say, breaking the comfortable silence, "I never thought I’d say this, but we’re actually doing pretty well."

Yunho smiles, a genuine one this time. "Yeah, who would’ve thought?"

This new feeling was brewing in my chest, it wasn't hatred, it was far from that.

"You know I never meant to be harsh the other day" yunho says, looking down at his shoes that are hanging off the side of the stage.

"Its okay, I said some mean stuff to you too." You lift your shoulders a little while saying. "I really need this play to go well so I can have a higher chance of getting a scholarship. That's why I was getting pissed off by you" I say.

"My parents always expect the best of me, just because they were the best in their days doesn't mean I am. I guess that's why I got so angry at you for saying I wasn't a team player." Yunho sighs ".. I really try to be but sometimes my parents just get into my head and make me forget this is not a contest"

I frown at his story, it's sad that he can't express his passion the way he wants.

I stand up and hold my hand out for yunho. He looks up confused but grabs it, I pull him up and say "you need to enjoy this yunho, talk to your parents about it. It is your life and it should be fun while you're here" I say with a soft voice, not realizing that our hands are still together.

He suddenly pulls me into a hug which caught me off guard. "Thank you y/n. You're not so bad after all" I hear him whisper.

The morning of the play:

"Ahh! How are you feeling? Today’s the day!" Rina exclaims, practically bouncing with excitement as she walks next to me.

I can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. "I’m feeling really good about all this. Not only will this improve my chances of getting a scholarship, but it’s also helped Yunho and me forgive each other."

We turn a corner, and my heart skips a beat when I see Yunho standing there, talking to one of his friends. I’m about to wave when I catch his words.

"I don't know, man. She is so annoying. I can't handle it any longer. I'm happy this act is all over after tonight."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Tears well up in my eyes. How could he say that after everything we’ve been through? After the connection we shared the other night?

Rina notices my change in demeanor immediately. "What’s wrong?"

I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "I just heard Yunho saying he can't stand me and he's glad this is all over after tonight."

Rina's eyes widen in shock, then narrow in anger. "What? That can’t be right. That son of a bitch"

I nod, biting my lip to keep from crying. "I don’t know if I can go through with this tonight, acting like everything is fine. This play has done nothing but be stressfull, I'm done"

Rina takes my hand, her grip firm and comforting. "Listen, I know this hurts, but quitting now isn’t the answer. You’ve worked too hard to let this ruin it. Just hold on a little longer, don't say or do anything you will regret later" she said "I'll be right back just don't do anything okay?"

I nod, trying to take comfort in her words, but the ache in my chest remains. I steal another glance at Yunho, who’s laughing at something his friend said

Later that day in the school's hallway:

“That jerk,” she mutters, clenching her fists. “I can’t believe he said that about you after everything you two have been through.”

I shrug, trying to act indifferent, but the hurt is clear in my eyes. “It’s fine, Rina. Let’s just get through tonight.”

“No, it’s not fine,” she snaps, standing up abruptly.

Before I can stop her, Rina storms across the hallway, heading straight for Yunho. My heart races, and I quickly follow her, catching snippets of her angry muttering.

“Rina, wait!” I call out, but she’s already reached Yunho and his group.

“Hey, Yunho!” Rina’s voice cuts through the chatter, silencing the group. Yunho looks up, surprised.

“Rina? What’s up?”

“What’s up?” she repeats, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ll tell you what’s up. How dare you talk about Y/N like that behind her back?”

Yunho’s brows furrow in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Rina spits, crossing her arms. “Y/N heard you this morning, calling her annoying and saying you’re glad this is all over after tonight. How could you, after everything you two have been through?”

Yunho’s face pales, realization dawning on him. “Wait, that’s not what I—”

“Oh, save it!” Rina cuts him off, her anger palpable. “She thought you were friends, that you understood each other. But you’re just a two-faced jerk!”

By now, a small crowd has gathered, watching the confrontation unfold. I feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment and hurt, but I don’t stop Rina. She’s saying everything I wish I had the courage to say.

“Rina, please,” Yunho tries again, his voice pleading. “You’ve got it all wrong. I wasn’t talking about Y/N like that.”

“Then who were you talking about?” Rina demands, her eyes blazing.

Yunho takes a deep breath, looking around at the crowd before focusing on Rina. “I was talking about the director, I was talking to my friend about how I’ve been feeling overwhelmed by her, she has been on my toes the last few rehearsals. And plus if I had to say something mean to y/n I would just say it to hee face, I've done it the last few years.”

Rina’s anger falters, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face "Oh, well this is awkward" she said while laughing awkwardly.

That evening:

A buzz of excitement fills the air as students, teachers, and parents take their seats in the auditorium. Backstage, the cast is a whirlwind of activity, making final adjustments to costumes and props. My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of nerves and exhilaration. I peek through the curtain and see the audience settling in. This is it. Months of hard work, late nights, and overcoming differences have led to this moment.

Yunho stands next to me, adjusting his costume. He looks at me and smiles, a warm, genuine smile that sends a flutter through my stomach. "You ready?"

I nod, trying to steady my breath. "Ready as I'll ever be."

The romance scene is next up —the moment where our characters, after a series of misunderstandings and conflicts, finally confess their love. The lines have become second nature, but tonight, something feels different. There's an electricity in the air, a deeper connection that wasn’t there during rehearsals.

As Yunho and I move through our lines, the world around us fades away. It's just the two of us on stage, our characters’ emotions mirroring our own unspoken feelings. Yunho steps closer, his character's confession blending seamlessly with his own emotions.

"I've been thinking a lot about us," he says, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "And I realized something important. I can't imagine my life without you."

My heart races as I respond, my own feelings bubbling to the surface. "I feel the same way. You’ve challenged me, pushed me, and made me better. I’ve never felt this way before."

Yunho takes my hand, and the touch sends a spark through me. He looks into my eyes, and for a moment, it’s as if time stands still. "I love you," he says, I know it's just his character speaking. But it's feels a little too real.

Tears well up in my eyes, and I whisper, "I love you too."

The curtain falls, and the audience erupts into applause. We take our bows, the adrenaline still coursing through our veins. Backstage, the cast congratulates each other, but all I can think about is Yunho.

I find him in a quiet corner, away from the chaos. He looks up as I approach, a soft smile on his face "hey"

"Hey" I reply

"That was... incredible" He says, stepping closer.

I could smell his perfume, he was standing so close. It made My heart beat a lot faster. "It really was..."

He looks down and meet my eyes, we don't say anything but we both feel what's about to come. "Would you like to go somewhere private..?" He asks, his voice low.

I nod, "I would like that"

He grabs my hand and we walk towards the drama room. The place where it all began. The room is quiet and dark, the only source of light is the moonlight that is shining through the tall windows.

Yunho closes the door behind us, and the click of the lock seems to tighten the tension even more. We stand there for a moment, just looking at each other in silence.

He moves closer, his hand moving away a piece of my hair.

His lips meet mine, it starts of soft but quickly deepens. His arms wrap around me, pulling me closer until there is no more space left between us.

We pull away, stading there breathlessly. And yunhos eyes search mine. A silent question hanging in the air. I nod, giving him my answer without him having to ask it.

He leads me to the small couch in to corner of the room, we sink down on soft cushions, his hands move gently over the curves of my body. I lay one of my hands on his bicep, he tenses up under my touch and his muscles tighten.

Yunho reconnects the kiss again, this time it's with hunger and passion. He slowly slides his hand under my shirt, cupping one of my breasts. The warmth of his hand tingling on my skin.

I gasp when he pulls my shirt over my head and throws it on the floor. Exposing me to the cool air. He lowers his head and starts to kiss me all over my body "you're so beautiful" He murmurs against my skin.

I blush, my hands start to unbutton his shirt revealing his chest. He shrugs himself out of the fabric and I move my hands over his skin.

We're now left in our underwear, Yunho's hand moves down, his fingers teasing the edge of my panties before slipping under the material. When his finger enters me, a groan escapes my lips, muffled by our kiss.

He takes my reaction as encouragement, adding another finger and moving in and out in a steady movement. The sensation of his fingers moving in and out of me sends waves of pleasure through my body, and I arch my back, pressing closer to him.

"Yunho," I whisper, my voice breathy and filled with need.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes locking onto mine, dark with desire. "Does this feel good?" he asks, his voice husky.

"Yes," I moan, my hands gripping his shoulders for support.

Yunho's free hand trails up my side, his touch light and teasing. He kisses a path down my neck, his lips leaving a burning trail on my skin. As his fingers continue their rhythm, he takes one of my nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it. The combined sensations are almost too much, and I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Yunho, I need you," I manage to say between ragged breaths.

He looks up at me, his expression a mix of tenderness and desire. "I need you too," he whispers.

With a final, lingering kiss, he pulls his fingers out and helps me out of the last of our clothing. We pause for a moment, just taking in the sight of each other, the intimacy of the moment deepening our connection.

Yunho gently lays me back on the couch, positioning himself above me. He takes a condom from his wallet, and with a quick, practiced motion, he rolls it on. His eyes meet mine, seeking one last confirmation.

I nod, my heart pounding with a mix of nerves and anticipation. "I'm ready."

He aligns himself with me, and as he slowly enters, we both gasp at the sensation. He moves with care, giving us both time to adjust. Once he’s fully inside, he pauses, our foreheads touching as we share a moment of stillness

Yunho starts to move, it's slow at first but once I wrapped my legs around his waist he couldn't hold back any longer. A groan escaped from his lips and he fastened his pace.

His hands roam over my body, caressing and teasing, driving me closer to the edge. I can feel the tension building, the knot tightening inside of me.

"Yunho I'm close" I whisper against his neck.

"Me too" He says, his voice strained with his pleasure.

The sound of our breathing is getting heavier and faster. With a final trust I feel a wave of pleasure wash over me, yunho throws his head back when he feels my juices spilling over his cock. That is enough to send him over the edge too. Our moans filling the silent room.

We collapse together, yunho holds me close. His breath warm against my skin as we come down from the high.

"I think I like you y/n" yunho said, pressing a soft kiss against my forehead.

"I like you too yunho" I whisper back.

We lie there for a little longer, wrapped in each other's arms. And that's when I realized that this moment was the beginning of something beautiful.

[stestylius-arts]

What in "Hell" is Bad - Kaos Arcadia Legion Prologue (6)

They made it on the first floor of the palace. The bombardment was still ongoing. Laneila was talking with Nakia in the background, visibly disagreeing. He sighed. He suddenly disappears and another appears instead. This one seemed to complain.

“Who is that-” Ppyong’s words were cut off by Meridian appearing out of nowhere behind him.

“Your worst Nightmare– Aouch!” before getting whacked behind the head by Nakia The guy crouched on the ground with his two hands behind his head, Nakia’s hand glowed a soft blue light. “Aye?”

“I am your worst nightmare~” The new spirit laughed devilishly. Nakia cleared her throat in disapproval. Ppyong had flown back to Sitri.

“This is Meridian.” Nakia finally answered to Ppyong. “One of my other contracts. He will help with the plan I have in my mind. Depends if they show up.’ Nakia pushed Meridian off balance out of annoyance. “Though, they have the tendency to boast about their own ego.” Nakia casted a glare at them. Meridian caressed the spot she slapped earlier.

“A complicated one huh?” Satan grinned. “Can I kick them?” 

“Try me, I dare ya!” Meridian encouraged Satan. Nakia pinched his earlobe, making him lean forward then let him go backwards.

“Heck no.” Nakia warned. 

“Solomon.” Nakia looked at Sitri with a frown. “Come this way to get you patched up.” Meridian smirked at her change of expression. She elbows him in the stomach. 

The palace shook hard. 

Nakia speed walks to the nearest window. She sees the battlefield of the city. It’s massive, such a beautiful landscape ruined by the angels’ intervention. It irked Nakia deeply. Her eyes seemed to search for something, someone, anything. So many people, devils, hurt because of this ongoing war. The main plaza is clearly open for attack. To be an open target.

“Good, my idea might actually work.” Satan’s eyes widened at Nakia’s words. “You are not gonna like it.” 

“Don’t be an idiot and don’t do it.” Satan remarks with a sneer, warning her. “You just arrived. Just don’t put yourself in danger like you want.” Satan says with his eyes closed.

“She’s gone.” Ppyong announces with a big grin. Satan wiped his head around seeing Nakia shoving the doors open. Ppyong comes flying through the nearest window, landing face first in front of Nakia. She scooped him up while still running. She avoided a blast from an angel. Ice spikes from the ground go flying through the body of the attacker. 

Meridian followed Nakia behind. Nakia materialized a sword in her hand, pointing the direction of the next attack, water swirling at the base of the blade. One swift curvy move, the water turns into ice, imploding from the angels’ bodies. The angels saw the branding of their leader on her, ready to plunge against her. 

“Hydro Fright!” Nakia chants. Water sparkles around the invaders, the cells expanding into shards impaling the bodies in all directions. Blood splatters all around. The innocent devils thank Nakia. They fled to put themselves into protection of the last remaining buildings. 

Meridian was quick to act, pulling Nakia by the collar backwards. A lock of hair cut clean, but close enough to Nakia’s head but also ripping a portion of her shirt as well. One tough looking angel laughed his heart out, dropping the pieces of steel they carried.

Nakia could feel the power coming from the angel individual. He was weaker from the Seraph she met the first time for sure, but it was still stronger than her. As if he was the power of a legion on his own. 

Meridian and Nakia exchanged blasts with the angels, avoiding the steel beams from the sky. Without looking behind their back, Nakia and Meridian separated ways to let something else take the center stage. 

Something red flew fast by Nakia’s head, safe enough to not actually hit her. She crouched towards the ground.  

The impact made a loud bang, a deafening blasting hit creating a massive cloud of dust. Once the dust cleared up, the angel wasn’t there anymore. Nakia was coughing hard from all the dust taking the battlefield. 

“He disappeared?” Nakia asked out loud. Ppyong came flying in clearly out of breath. 

“No, he exploded to death, aye.” He flew in Nakia’s field of view. Nakia coughed the dust out of her lungs, the nearby buildings had been disintegrated. Where once stood the angel was nothing but a puddle of blood and a few feathers left behind.

“Solomon.” Sitri called out to Nakia, waving the dust around. His forearm is heavily bleeding. 

“You, fucking idiot.” Satan added. “Don’t run away like that, you got nearly-”

“Got killed.” Nakia waved it off. “I know.” 

“Our lord can exercise power of nation size, and not a mere army. Alone.” Sitri looked like he was speaking as calmly as he could, but he couldn’t hide his twitching lips even with a pale face. He did show his pride towards his king, who wouldn’t? Sitri smiled to himself but looked up to see Nakia before him. 

She held out her hands. A soft light emitted from them, casting a halo of blue light, making her hair float. Sitri stuck his tongue out in pain, feeling his skin and muscles healing and closing. The skin was only drenched in blood. It looked better. 

“Healing power?” Sitri asked. 

“Mr. Laneila mentioned it earlier. Nakia’s main attribute is healing right, aye?” Ppyong perched himself on Nakia’s shoulder, but felt the drilling gaze from Meridian. The red lump dragged his gaze down before darting in front of Nakia to act as a censoring screen. 

“Ms. Nakia, your shirt is all ripped off!!”

 

Nakia looked down at the area where Gabriel had previously slashed and Satan had made the gap worse. The angel’s strike also made it wider to see one of Nakia’s breasts out and without any coverage. No one had cared to tell her before. She crosses her arms over the affected area.

Sitri clears his throat with a soft blush on his cheeks. “Let’s get you patched up first.” It took a few minutes to patch Nakia’s wound, change her top outfit along with the added necessary bandages. Satan pushed Sitri out of the way, unclipping his overall top and draping Nakia’s top. 

“Don’t fucking do that again.” He sneered. He didn’t look happy, his crossed eyes peering into hers, assuming his dominance, causing her to sweat ridiculously. He was angry. Really angry. He tied the shirt around her waist and rolled the sleeves up her forearms. He leaned in close to Nakia’s face only for her to put her two hands into his face. 

“I am delighted you were worried about me, Satan.” She was pushing against his forehead. “No need to be that close.” His grin spread across his face. She managed to push him off. 

“I demand that you stay away from my master.” Meridian pulled Nakia backwards, causing her to stagger and catch her balance quickly. “You don’t have the fucking right to own her!”

Satan blinked twice, pointing at the spirit barking his demands right out of his filthy mouth. 

“Is he a chihuahua?” Satan asked casually. Nakia didn’t reply. She looked away obviously knowing how sharp Meridian’s tongue was. He had the tendency to let the other know about his feelings with no filter. He had been the hardest, emotionally speaking, spirit to control. He did fold under her authority but anyone else’s, he acted like a brat. A real fucking brat.

By brat attitude, he was good at pissing the others off. Nakia could even give him the benefit of the doubt when she wasn’t in the mood to provoke anyone necessarily. One summon of this spiritual minx and you would get the job done. It was a very bad idea she had summoned him instead of keeping Laneila. Nakia regretted it. She put her hand over the spirit’s mouth, giving him a warning look. Meridian scoffed. Nakia hooked her arm around his head, locking him into a choke hold. Satan was grinning ears to ears.

“Shut up.” Nakia said into his ear. “You are not helping. It is hard enough as it is.” He was gripping on her thighs trying to break free from her hold. His ears twitched, looking above. He leaned forward, taking Nakia on his back with a jump of a few feet away. A scythe struck the place they previously stood. Satan had his hand ready.

“I told you, we would meet again. Outlander.” Nakia’s hair rose on her skin, a big chill running down her spine. Her eyes rose towards a gate in the skies. Gabriel and his legion had finally arrived in Gehenna. It wasn’t a good sign.