#there is no reason for him to be making all these faces during this scene

[viscountess-nila]

TDP Season 7 SPOILERS

There are a plethora, overflowing cornucopia of reasons why Netflix should greenlight Arc 3, but imo the most important one is the fact that Claudia still loves the people who were once in her life.

Terry says it himself when discussing how to change her mind with Ezran's council,

"Love is what drives her. Love for her family"

Yes she destroyed the world, yes she is almost nearly corrupted beyond reason but she said it herself,

"I'm still nice. I'm still me"

We all know she most definitely is not herself, but in the face of her brother's pain on the Storm Spire

She stops. She tells him she won't kill him. Which is lower than the bare minimum for anyone else, but it is a lot for Claudia.

So what if, in arc three, however long and painful the process is, Claudia feels the remorse she should?

What if she reconsiders her decisions. Viren did it. Why can't she?

And moving forward with this, it's now evident Aaravos sees Claudia as his daughter, his only light in this world. And from this season, we've also seen that the only people who can make Aaravos think back on his morality are people he cares for. In seven seasons the one time we've seen Aaravos actually look regretful is when Terry (someone he cares for, at least during that scene) calls him out on his deception and half truths.

In fact, he feels the regret so acutely he actually goes and reveals all his deception to Claudia (the only other person he cares about). The only reason they go forward with the inversion is because Claudia feels Aaravos's pain and wants to avenge Leola as well. If it weren't for that, Aaravos revealing his deception would have caused all his plans to fail and he was okay with that - because he hurt someone he cared about. Mere months of love smothered his millennia of anger.

And more importantly, the main message in this show is stopping the cycle of violence, emphasising the power of compassion and forgiveness over punishment and destruction, so instead of leaving it with this brutal (temporary) end for Aaravos's life, wouldn't it be better to defeat this cycle of violence and give us an end where Claudia's regret leads to Aaravos stopping and thinking 'is this really worth it'. And ending where their compassion wins over their inner violence, to prove the point young Ezran said so long ago.

This season emphasised their father- daughter relationship so much, that much love and emotion can't be just for them to be a badass evil duo (though they will be).

He is going to come back in seven years and nineteen days. He's been doing this because of the destruction of an innocent life (who he loved) and his plans did fail. So this isn't the end for Aaravos.

Plus the Cosmic Order, whose cruel judgement is what propagated all this, remained unseen this entire season. And they're the violence that started this cycle. To see Aaravos reformed and possibly forgiven by the world (I am delusional I realise) would show them how pointless their cruelty and order is and how ridiculous their reasoning for Leola's death was.

For the show to truly prove its message, it should continue. Show us compassion does win over violence, forgiveness wins over revenge, love over hatred. And shove it in Cosmic Order's face. That this brutal destruction of Aaravos's physical form isn't how this story ends.

Claudia still loves her family. And Aaravos loves Claudia. Show us that love is enough.

And additionally, MORE DANTE BASCO. ANYTHING FOR MORE DANTE BASCO.

[comicgeekery]

Good Omens Theory

I have a theory I'd like to toss out. Has there been any discourse about the possibility of Muriel being Raphael? I know there's been a lot speculation about it being Crowley, especially after all the hints in S2 that he was fairly high-ranking in Heaven, but here's my reasoning:

Muriel acts very similarly to Jim in terms of significant ignorance and extreme naivety.

Crowley being Raphael doesn't really fit with GO tone of him and Aziraphale being low-ranking idiots who are mostly incidental to the Great Plan.

It would be a really cool twist.

Muriel's job seems to be pretty make-work. They're the only scrivener at their level, which is implied to the very lowest rank there is. They spend the vast majority of their time alone.

I just rewatched the scene where Gabriel was sentenced to make sure I got this right and, yeah, they were going to make him 38th class! Right below Muriel's 37th! It seems really likely this has all happened before!

We already know that the Metatron doesn't want there to be a second fallen prince of Heaven.

Ok, so now that I've proven my theory beyond any possible doubt, let me expand a bit. I suspect Raphael wasn't in league with Lucifer, but did something 'wrong' during or right after the War. The Metatron, and possibly the other archangels, erased Raphael's memory, gave them the name Muriel, then sent them to a little office where they could be quietly forgotten for the rest of time. Now, that doesn't explain why Aziraphale and Crowley don't seem to recognize Muriel. I think there are plenty of reasonable options for that. Maybe there was a wide-spread miracle on everyone's memories of Raphael. Maybe Raphael just didn't spend much time with other angels so their face wasn't well-known. Maybe Raphael's name was altered in the Book of Life and that has wild consequences. Or, honestly, maybe Crowley and Aziraphale just forgot what Raphael looked like because it's been a long time. I wouldn't put it past this show.

[dreadfuldevotee]

#Don't ask me the color of nothing

[physalian]

How To Make Your Writing Less Stiff 5

Movement

Dredging this back up from way back.

Make sure your characters move, but not too much during heavy dialogue scenes. E.g. two characters sitting and talking—do humans just stare at each other with their arms lifeless and bodies utterly motionless during conversation? No? Then neither should your characters. Make them…

Gesture

Wave

Frown

Laugh

Cross their legs/their arms

Shift around to get comfortable

Pound the table

Roll their eyes

Point

Shrug

Touch their face/their hair

Wring their hands

Pick at their nails

Yawn

Stretch

Sniff/sniffle

Tap their fingers/drum

Bounce their feet

Doodle

Fiddle with buttons or jewelry

Scratch an itch

Touch their weapons/gadgets/phones

Check the time

Get up and sit back down

Move from chair to tabletop

The list goes on.

Bonus points if these are tics that serve to develop your character, like a nervous fiddler, or if one moves a lot and the other doesn’t—what does that say about the both of them? This is where “show don’t tell” really comes into play.

As in, you could say “he’s nervous” or you could show, “He fidgets, constantly glancing at the clock as sweat beads at his temples.”

This site is full of discourse on telling vs showing so I’ll leave it at that.

Epithets

In the Sci-fi WIP that shall never see the light of day, I had a flashback arc for one male character and his relationship with another male character. On top of that, the flashback character was a nameless narrator for Reasons.

Enter the problem: How would you keep track of two male characters, one who you can't name, and the other who does have a name, but you can’t oversaturate the narrative with it? I did a few things.

Nameless Narrator (written in 3rd person limited POV) was the only narrator for the flashback arc. I never switched to the boyfriend’s POV.

Boyfriend had only a couple epithets that could only apply to him, and halfway through their relationship, NN went from describing him as “the other prisoner” to “his cellmate” to “his partner” (which was also a double entendre). NN also switched from using BF’s full name to a nickname both in narration and dialogue.

BF had a title for NN that he used exclusively in dialogue, since BF couldn’t use his given name and NN hadn’t picked a new one for himself.

Every time the subject of the narrative switched, I started a new paragraph so “he” never described either character ambiguously mid-paragraph.

Is this an extreme example? Absolutely, but I pulled it off according to my betas.

The point of all this is this: Epithets shouldn’t just exist to substitute an overused name. Epithets de-personalize the subject if you use them incorrectly. If your narrator is thinking of their lover and describing that person without their name, then the trait they pick to focus on should be something equally important to them. In contrast, if you want to drive home how little a narrator thinks of somebody, using depersonalizing epithets helps sell that disrespect.

Fanfic tends to be the most egregious with soulless epithets like "the black-haired boy" that tell the reader absolutely nothing about how the narrator feels about that black-haired boy, espeically if they're doing so during a highly-emotional moment.

As in, NN and BF had one implied sex scene. Had I said “the other prisoner” that would have completely ruined the mood. He’s so much more than “the other prisoner” at that point in the story. “His partner,” since they were both a combat team and romantically involved, encompassed their entire relationship.

The epithet also changed depending on what mood or how hopeless NN saw their situation. He’d wax and wane over how close he believed them to be for Reasons. NN was a very reserved character who kept BF at a distance, afraid to go “all in” because he knew there was a high chance of BF not surviving this campaign. So NN never used “his lover”.

All to say, epithets carried the subtext of that flashback arc, when I had a character who would not talk about his feelings. I could show you the progression of their relationship through how the epithets changed.

I could show you whenever NN was being a big fat liar about his feelings when he said he's not in love, but his narration gave him away. I could show you the exact moment their relationship shifted from comrades to something more when NN switched mid-paragraph from "his cellmate" to "his partner" and when he took up BF's nickame exclusively in the same scene.

I do the same thing in Eternal Night when Elias, my protagonist, stops referring to Dorian as "it" and "the vampire" instead of his name the moment they collide with a much more dangerous vampire, so jarringly that Elias notices in his own narration—the point of it being so explicit is that this degredation isn't automatic, it's something he has to conciously do, when everyone else in his clan wouldn't think twice about dehumanizing them.

—

Any literary device should be used with intent if you want those layers in your work. The curtains are rarely just blue. Whether it’s a simile with a deliberate comparison or an epithet with deliberate connotations, your readers will pick up on the subtext, I promise.

[luna0713hunter]

Its always hard to make Sukuna laugh.

The man rarely smiles,let alone laugh. The first time you've seen him,you were scared shitless of his serious face.

But right now,as you lean on his shoulder and laugh loudly at a comedy scene playing on the tv,you suddenly notice that you beloved boyfriend hasn't even smiled once during the whole movie.

You frown and pout,and suddenly poke your point finger is in Sukuna's cheek. He grumbles and as you continue your poking until you get his attention,his hand around your waist pinches your hip.

You let out a loud squeak and slap his chest,while glaring up at him.

"what was that for?!"

"you were the one who started it."

"cause i wanted to get your attention!"

He pauses the movies and shifts his attention to you;making your cheeks slightly burn under his unwavering focus.

"now you have it. What?"

Your lips twist downwards;like you've eaten those sour candies he likes so much and grumble under your breath.

"you're way too mean!have you ever smiled in your entire life?"

"maybe i was the king of curses in my past life or something,who knows?"

You raise a brow at him.

"you mean, you're not now?"

And suddenly, Sukuna is pushing you on your back against the couch. He looms over you and after a second of tense silence,he bend down and-

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

Bites you,hard,on your cheek. The spot throbs and tears gather in your eyes. You whine and start to push against his chest when suddenly,his fingers start to dance across your sides.

"nonononononono hold on-"

When your breathless laughter raises in the house,you fail to notice a quieter chuckle alongside yours.

After all, Sukuna's only reason to laugh,is to hear yours.

[wonryllis]

TEMPTING THEM DURING NO NUT NOVEMBER.

─────𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖸 𝖢𝖠𝖵𝖤 𝖨𝖭. 汚い ❛ 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽, "𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗍" ❜

featuring. enhypen hyung line with fem!r wordcount. 1250 ( around 300 each ) check out the catalogue?

warnings. ⚠︎PG18! public teasing, groping, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation, dry humping, car sex, riding, handjob, shower sex, choking, clit rubbing, p in v obviously.

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

heeseung knew he fucked up the moment he agreed to take on the challenge. he knew it so so well, yet he decided he could do it and he could pull through the entire month if tried just hard enough. that he could keep his dick in his pants and not in you.

and it was hard. it is hard. his fucking cock twitching underneath his boxers as you discreetly palm him over his suit pants. right in the middle of a dinner with all his friends sitting around the table. unaware of your indecent touches and the looks you throw at your boyfriend.

batting your lashes at him while biting your lips, grabbing his thigh and then moving your hand up to squeeze his cock. it is absolute torture till it lasts. till his resolve breaks and he immediately drags you along to the nearest bathroom. his friends looking at the scene knowing he's done for— just a week into november.

“shit you just had to make me lose didn't you?” heeseung slaps his hand over your mouth, muffling your loud moans as he drills his cock into you. fast and rough; holding your thigh around his waist in a grip so tight it'd probably leave purple bruises.

he tugs you closer on the counter each time you move back from the force of his thrusts, skin slapping into red, painfully pleasurable marks,“couldn’t keep your hands off my cock for once,” he grunts, brows furrowing as you clench around him every two seconds.

“if you keep doing that baby, i might just knock you up with how much i cum,” he moves his hand from your mouth, his lips immediately find yours in a messy lock, nibbling on your lower lip in supressed groans and pants, his balls tightening up when he feels yours walls clamping onto him hard.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

if muscles could tear off easily. jay would be in shreds right now. the sheer amount of restraint it is taking him, each part of him painfully tense— beyond he ever felt in his entire life. absolute hell he is going through watching you prance around in just a croptop and freaking bikini bottoms.

his eyes almost popping out of the sockets with drooling desire and want for you as he follows along the way you bend over or reach up for absurd and insane reasons. purposely to tease him of course.

he is aware of what you are trying to do. he really is. but he still just can not seem to look away for the sake of his cock and the expensive dinner on line for losing. gaze continuing to follow you as you settle into his lap, arms draping over his shoulders and your ass resting right on top of his now hard cock. oh he's about to lose.

“had this dream last night and— fuck princess you couldn't keep your hands off me and— oh god it was so hot,” jay rambles, his hands gripping your waist guiding you as you grind your drenched folds across his hard cock. back and forth, back and forth. your wet bikini bottoms sliding off to the side each time you reach up to his tip. warm slick smearing over his twitching cock pulled out of his sweatpants just enough.

his soft gasps and grunts filling the room,”gonna lose the no nut but it's worth it,” his eyes stay fixated on your face, watching the way it twists with pleasure and how your lips form an o when you let a moan amidst the constant mewls.

only two days left, but jay just can't resist it anymore. feeling your thighs shake against his and your eyes roll back when he nudges just the tip inside.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

jake's knuckles turn borderline white against the steering wheel. grip so tight he might as well rip it off the console. he tries so hard to focus on the road, to keep his eyes and his mind on the lane. but god you make it impossible with your hand caressing his thigh. his gaze drifting down each time your pinky rubs against his balls. and mind drifting off to danger zone of no nut november.

a sharp intake of breath and a silent curse falling off his lips when your fingers trail over his bulge in a feather light touch.

calm down, calm down, calm down. jake chants repeatedly— don't get hard, don't get hard, changing the words when he inevitably feels himself throbbing and growing stiffer by the second— fucking don't get hard damn it, all futile for his cock practically springs against the fabric of his cotton pants after you brush over his tip. should have worn the goddamn boxers.

“oh yeah— oh fuck yeah— your pretty pussy feels so good baby,” jake groans against your parted mouth, the sounds leaving you, the way you bounce on him, the sweat trickling down between your breasts; oh he doesn't care it's only been four days since he decided to participate in no nut november.

“how did i even think i could live a month without you cumming on my cock,” his hands squeezing your ass, guiding your movements as the car flaps with your lewd squelches in the backseat. the windows fogged up and filled with your moans and jake’s dirty mouth running rampant.

noticing your face scrunching up in pleasure, he immediately moves his hand over to rub your nub in quick circles,”god yes you're gonna cum for me?” his feet planting firm onto the floorboard before he starts pounding up,”me too baby, gonna fill you up so well.”

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

the cold shower did nothing to help his raging mind. and his raging cock. images of you begging for his cock flashing before his eyes on repeat. you were such a vixen when it came down to sex. knowing exactly how to tempt him in a way he would not be able to be resist.

it's only been ten days. sunghoon reminds himself, a hand rubbing down his face as he tries taking in deep breaths. coming home to you waiting for him right by the front door with fucking bedroom eyes was not something he was ready for. and especially not for the way you tried to persuade him to give up the challenge. pulling him closer by his sweatpants and throwing out the most sensual begs he'd ever heard from you.

it took every cell in him to deny you, rushing into the shower to avoid you before you could notice his boner. he did not lock the door though—

“fuck doll, keep doing that and i’ll cum so hard,” sunghoon throws his head back, water running down his chest and over your pretty little hands jerking his hard cock in sloppy strokes. his hips buck involuntarily, furious and wild despite all the warnings flashing red in his subconscious.

“shit shit shit— fuck wait—” as the tight coil in his stomach threatens to bust, he instantly pulls away. albeit only to push you against the glass wall, haul up your left leg, and shove his cock inside in a brutal thrust. his forehead resting against yours as he fucks rough. rough and mad.

his other hand reaching up to grip your throat in a light choke,”you were so desperate to be fucked, you just had to ruin my challenge didn't you?” thumb pressing onto your windpipe just enough while he stares into your glazed eyes,”so desperate for my cum,”

taglist . . open ! @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @aaa-sia @criminalyun @oddracha @satan-223 @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @jayjw16enxp @laylasbunbunny @riribelle @ancnymcnzjy

[profoundlyfaded]

Let’s talk about Emmrich, specifically let’s talk about flirting with him after he first joins the team because I’m seeing a lot of discourse expressing frustration that he appears unmoved by your attempts to gain his attention, except, he knows what your doing. He’s holding back and let’s explore why -

Taking a step back, let’s look at who Emmrich is in terms of that public facing persona:

A Professor, who actively teaches.

An expert in his field who is prolific enough that Bellara, a Dalish elf living in relative isolation, knows who he is.

He written books, Davrin talks about this.

He’s wealthy, wealthy enough that Harding mistakes him for nobility.

All these factors have likely won him a lot of attention. Emmrich tells you in the romantic interest scene with the skull that if your interest ‘goes beyond charming flattery’ then he’s interested in exploring that as well.

This line tells me that flirting with him, at least at the start, is something he considers transactional. He gets it a lot when people around him might try and charm him for various reasons; could be students looking for better grades, or others studying his field of expertise attempting to gain recognition from him, even, perhaps, the odd person who might view Emmrich as a possible sugar daddy (you’re all thinking it).

So, Rook rocks up, shows interest in him and he’s seen it all before - until Emmrich realises that Rook means it, the interest is genuine, no subterfuge. We see that through the gradual reciprocation of flirting; that soft line about picking extraordinary moments for compliments, the relaxing into the flirtation during the first visit after bringing out tea, showing you his magic.

He knows you’re flirting, he’s just making sure it’s genuine first.

[hoe4hotchner]

hiii!! :3

i saw you asking for fluff requests so... perhaps it's cold out, and the reader is out with hotch (maybe going out to a crime scene or smth) and the readers shivering and hotch looks awfully warm in his coat, so ofc the reader just goes up and asks for a hug! (just to warm up ofc. no other reason to ask your hot boss for a hug 🤭) (maybe the reader manages to slide into his jacket)

tysm! <33

The Jacket Incident | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader CW: it's just cold and you were stupid enough to not wear a warm jacket. Also reader is shorter than Hotch. Fluff.

WC: 0.7k

Why is reader literally me in this one. I'm so dumb and not good at staying warm.

           The wind howled through the dark, desolate street, biting through the thin layers of your windbreaker as you and Hotch made your way back to the crime scene. You’d been out there for what felt like hours, and no amount of walking had kept the cold from seeping into your bones. Your fingers tingled with numbness despite being shoved deep into your pockets, and a shiver ran down your spine for the hundredth time.

           Hotch, of course, looked completely unbothered. He stood a few feet away, his demeanor calm and composed despite the freezing temperature. You couldn’t help but envy him a little. While you were practically freezing, he seemed like he hadn’t even noticed the cold.

           As you shifted from one foot to the other, trying to get some feeling back into your toes, you watched him finish his conversation. The way he stood, tall and commanding, only seemed to emphasize the fact that he was probably the warmest person in your vicinity. His jacket, the heavy, padded one you both wore during cases in colder climates, was unzipped - wide open, practically inviting you inside.

           You bit your lip, glancing around, trying to work up the nerve to do what you’d been thinking about for the last ten minutes. He was your boss, but more importantly, he was your boyfriend, which gave you a bit more confidence. And the thought of his warmth was too tempting to ignore. Bracing yourself, you took a few steps closer until you were standing beside him, shivering dramatically to make your point.

           Hotch turned his head slightly, his brow furrowing as he glanced down at you. "Are you cold?" he asked, his voice gentle, but there was a hint of playfulness in his eyes.

           You nodded, giving him your best pitiful look. "Freezing," you muttered, teeth chattering for good measure.

           Hotch’s gaze softened, and he let out a small sigh, his eyes flicking to your jacket before returning to your face. For a moment, you thought he was going to suggest you head back to the car, but instead, he smiled - just a tiny, private smile.

           Without a word, he opened his arms, his jacket still hanging open, and gave a slight nod toward the space between them. "Come here," he said, his tone warm and inviting, holding the edges of his jacket.

           Your heart skipped a beat at the offer, and without hesitating, you stepped closer, sliding your way into his open jacket. As soon as you were enveloped by his warmth, the world outside seemed to disappear. The heat of his body instantly chased away the cold, and you sighed in relief, nestling against his chest.

           Hotch’s arms wrapped around you instinctively, the thick jacket falling around your shoulders like a protective barrier from the wind. He smelled like his usual aftershave, mixed with the faint scent of coffee and something distinctly him - it was comforting. His hands settled gently on your back, holding you close, and you felt his chin rest lightly on the top of your head.

           "You should’ve said something sooner," he murmured, his voice rumbling through his chest.

You grinned, your cheek pressed against his shirt. "Figured you’d be too busy being all stern and in charge to notice."

           Hotch chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you, and you could feel the coldness in your body start to melt away. "I always notice," he replied quietly, his voice a little softer than usual, the warmth in his tone matching the heat of his body.

           You snuggled further into his chest, your hands slipping around his waist as you relaxed into his embrace. The cold air seemed like a distant memory now, replaced by the steady beat of his heart and the comforting weight of his arms around you.

           "Thanks for sharing your warmth," you mumbled, your words muffled against him.

           "Anytime," Hotch replied, his hand giving your back a gentle rub. "I’m always here to keep you warm."

           The two of you stood there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other, you were a sight for sore eyes. The wind and the cold now just background noise.

[greengoblinswifey]

Between Takes- Nicholas Chavez x Actress!Reader

summary— you and Nicholas Chavez navigate a tumultuous on-screen rivalry that evolves into a passionate off-screen romance. amidst teasing banter and sizzling tension, a rehearsal kiss blurs the lines between acting and reality.

warnings— enemies to lovers, unprotected sex, oral(f receiving), L bombs, fluff, established relationship.

You and Nicholas play rivals in a popular Netflix show. Your characters are constantly butting heads, with heated confrontations in almost every scene. The fans love the tension, and it’s one of the key dynamics of the show. Behind the scenes it’s the same, but there’s an undeniable spark between the two of you, though neither of you admits it. You’ve developed a bit of a love-hate relationship on set, filled with teasing, sharp comments, and banter that everyone assumes is just your way of staying in character though sometimes it gets overbearing.

One day, after a particularly intense scene, you find yourself doing an interview for a popular entertainment magazine. Sitting across from the interviewer, you try to maintain your composure, but the thoughts of Nicholas linger.

“So, how’s your chemistry with your co-star, Nicholas?” the interviewer asks, a teasing glint in her eye.

You chuckle, rolling your eyes slightly. “Honestly, working with him is like wrestling a bear. He’s arrogant, sometimes late, and way too confident for his own good. The edits are getting to his head.”

The interviewer laughs, and you realize you might have said a bit too much. But it’s all in good fun, right?

“And what about those heated confrontations you have on screen? Are they as fiery off-screen?”

You smirk. “Oh, absolutely. We love to argue. I think it’s half the reason the show is so popular and we’re able to make the show as real as possible.”

The interview ends, and as you step out, you see Nicholas leaning against a wall, arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

“So, I heard your little interview. Arrogant, huh?” he teases, raising an eyebrow.

You cross your arms, feigning indifference. “What can I say? It’s a talent of yours.”

“And what about that kiss scene we have to rehearse today? Think you can handle it?” His voice drops lower, a challenge hanging in the air.

You raise an eyebrow, feeling a rush of excitement. “Please. I’m not the one who needs to worry about handling it.”

As the day progresses, you can’t shake the tension in the air. During a break, Nicholas corners you in the hallway. “You know, I didn’t appreciate what you said in the interview,” he says, his voice low and serious.

You smirk. “I thought we were just having fun. Can’t handle a little friendly competition?” His gaze sharpens, and he steps closer. “It’s not just competition, is it? There’s something more.”

“Like what? A deep-seated desire to kiss my rival?” you reply, your voice laced with sarcasm.

But beneath the teasing, you both feel it, an electricity that has been building over time.

“You might just find out how good I am at kissing,” he says, smirking again, and your heart races at the thought.

The real shift happens during a major storyline arc where your characters have to share a kiss, something neither of you expected. As you both prepare for the rehearsal, the tension is palpable.

When it’s time to kiss, the world around you fades away. The rehearsal kiss is intense, full of the chemistry that’s been simmering beneath the surface. Your heart races as his lips touch yours, igniting something deep within. It’s a spark you’ve both tried to ignore, but now it feels undeniable.

As the kiss breaks, you both stand there for a moment, breathless. “Well, that was, unexpected,” Nicholas says, running a hand through his hair, his usual confidence wavering.

“Yeah, I didn’t think it would feel like that,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Nicholas takes a step closer, the air thick with unspoken words. “So, does this mean we’re not just bitter ‘enemies’ anymore?”

You chuckle softly, a smile creeping onto your face. “I guess it depends on how we handle the rest of the season.”

Nicholas smirks, leaning in slightly. “I can handle a lot, trust me.”

“Oh, I bet you can,” you reply, your voice playful but laced with flirtation.

The banter continues, but the teasing has a new edge to it now, hinting at the deeper connection you've both begun to acknowledge. The lines between acting and reality blur, transforming your playful rivalry into something far more passionate.

As you navigate your way through the show, the tension between you escalates both on and off the screen. The two of you find excuses to be near each other, whether it’s rehearsing lines or grabbing coffee between takes. Each moment feels charged, filled with unsaid words and lingering glances.

One evening, after a long day on set, you find yourselves alone in your trailer. Nicholas is leaning against the door, a mischievous grin on his face.

“You know, I think the show would be much better if we had more moments like that kiss,” he says, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“What are you suggesting? We start kissing off-camera too?” you shoot back, your heart racing at the thought.

He steps closer, closing the distance. “Maybe we should. I mean, it’s not like anyone’s watching.” You feel your breath hitch as he inches closer, the teasing in his eyes replaced by something deeper.

“Okay, then. Show me what you’ve got,” you challenge, heart pounding.

Nicholas leans in, capturing your lips again, and this time it’s not just for the cameras. It’s heated, passionate, and everything you’ve both been holding back. In that moment, you both know that the rivalry has turned into something much more complicated, and exciting. As you pull away, breathless and wanting more, you can’t help but wonder what this means for both of you moving forward.

A couple of weeks pass, and while your relationship deepens, it remains primarily physical with lots of kissing but no further progression. As the season approaches its finale, excitement and uncertainty linger in the air.

The end of filming party is at a lively club, filled with cast and crew celebrating the end of a successful season. Music pulses through the air, laughter and chatter surround you as you enjoy the night. You and Nicholas are together, and the playful touches become more frequent. He brushes his fingers against your arm as you talk, igniting warmth in your skin.

As the night goes on, you find yourselves in a corner booth, drinks in hand, laughter spilling between you. Suddenly, Nicholas pulls you closer, his hand resting on your thigh.

“I can’t believe we actually made it through that entire season without killing each other,” he jokes, his voice low and teasing. You lean in, a smirk on your lips. “I think I’ve managed to tolerate your presence.”

He raises an eyebrow, his expression playful yet serious. “Tolerate? Is that all? Because I think we both know it’s more than that.”

In a moment of spontaneity, you lean forward, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. The atmosphere around you dims, and all you can focus on is the way his hands grip your waist, pulling you closer. Gasps and laughter surround you, but you’re lost in the moment, oblivious to the eyes of the other guests.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, and a mixture of surprise and excitement dances in the air.

“Looks like we’re the talk of the party,” you say, glancing around at the surprised expressions on your co-stars’ faces.

“Let them talk. I don’t care,” he replies, his eyes dark with desire.

You share a lingering look, and before you know it, the night wraps up and you’re making your way back to your hotel room together. On the way, Nicholas receives a call for a quick interview about the season’s finale.

“I just have to say a few things. You good with that?” he asks, glancing at you.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you reply, your heart racing as he steps aside to take the call.

As he speaks, you catch snippets of what he’s saying.

“I just want to take a moment to say how much I admire my co-star,” he says, his tone sincere. “She’s incredibly driven, intelligent, and truly talented. I feel honored to have shared the set with someone as smart and passionate as her.”

You can’t help but smile, warmth spreading through your chest at his words. He finishes up the call, walking back toward you, a proud grin on his face.

“What did I miss?” he asks, wrapping his arm around you as you walk into the hotel.

“Just a little praise from your biggest fan,” you tease, leaning against him.

You both enter your hotel room, and the atmosphere shifts again, the earlier tension returning.

“I really appreciate what you said in that interview,” you admit, your voice softening.

Nicholas steps closer, a serious look in his eyes. “I meant every word. You’ve impressed me in ways I didn’t expect.”

Without another word, you lean in, kissing him deeply. The kiss ignites something fierce between you, and suddenly, he’s all over you, hands roaming, breath hot against your skin.

“I want you so bad,” he murmurs against your lips, his desire palpable. “I’ve been aching for you.”

Your heart races as you pull back slightly to meet his gaze, desire burning in your eyes. “Then let’s not waste any more time.”

Nicholas pulls you in for another kiss, his hands gripping your waist as he backs you against the wall. The kisses become frantic as you lose yourselves in the moment, and soon enough, you’re moving to the bed.

Clothes are shed in a frenzy, and as you tumble onto the soft sheets, Nicholas takes his time exploring every inch of your body. He kisses a path down your stomach, sending shivers down your spine. When he reaches your core, he takes his time, skillfully working you to the edge. “You taste so good,” he whispers, his breath warm against you.

You’re surprised at how skilled he is with his tongue and he makes sure to use it to plunge inside you, drawing the sweetest moans from your lips. Your hands grip his hair and you grind against his face, his groans against your pussy making you shiver and squirm. The world melted around you, all you could focus on was the pleasure he was making you feel,

You feel the wave of pleasure building, and as you climax, you gasp his name, feeling your body quake beneath his touch.

Afterward, you’re both a tangle of limbs, breathless and glowing. Nicholas wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you catch your breath.

Once the haze of passion begins to settle, he looks deep into your eyes. “I want you to be my girlfriend,” he says, sincerity etched in his features. You smile, feeling a rush of happiness. “I’d love that.”

After a passionate night together with Nicholas eating you out, you both navigate your way through the press runs filled with playful touches and stolen kisses. Finally, the season premiere arrives, and excitement buzzes in the air.

As you both prepare for the red carpet, butterflies flutter in your stomach. You glance at Nicholas, who looks stunning in a tailored suit. He catches your gaze and smirks, making your heart race.

“Ready to blow everyone’s minds?” he asks, his confidence radiating. You roll your eyes playfully. “As if I’d let you steal the spotlight.”

The two of you step onto the red carpet, and a hush falls over the crowd as cameras flash. The buzz is palpable as reporters and fans whisper, remembering the long-standing rumors that you and Nicholas didn’t get along.

You strike a pose together, your bodies instinctively leaning into one another. “You both look amazing!” a reporter shouts. “Can you tell us about your chemistry?”

Nicholas glances at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. “It’s just as fiery off-screen as it is on-screen. Isn’t that right?” You nod, smirking. “Let’s just say it’s been a wild ride, but we make it work.”

As the cameras continue to flash, Nicholas takes your hand, pulling you closer. Suddenly, he leans in and kisses you, catching everyone off guard. Gasps and cheers erupt from the crowd, and the whispers of shock turn to delight.

“What’s this? Are you two an item now?” another reporter calls out, excitement in their voice.

You break the kiss, breathless but grinning, and glance at Nicholas.

“Guess we just made it official,” he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You both continue down the red carpet, posing and kissing, basking in the spotlight as the rumors of your on-set rivalry dissolve into cheers of support.

During interviews, the two of you take turns praising each other, the chemistry undeniable. “She’s incredibly talented,” Nicholas says, his voice full of admiration. “I’m lucky to have her as my co-star.”

You blush at his words, feeling warmth spread through you.

“Nicholas has this incredible drive. It’s inspiring to work alongside him,” you reply, your smile wide.

Then the moment of truth arrives during a live interview when a reporter asks Nicholas how he feels about this new development in your relationship.

“I feel... I feel amazing. She makes me happy,” he says, his expression earnest. Then, almost as if he’s caught up in the moment, he blurts out, “I love her.”

Silence falls for a split second before your eyes widen in surprise. He blinks, realizing what he just said. “Uh, yeah, I love you,” he repeats, a mix of disbelief and affection in his voice.

“You do?” you ask, your heart racing. He nods, sincerity flooding his gaze. “Yeah, I really do.”

You’re momentarily taken aback, but then a smile spreads across your face, and you lean in, capturing his lips in a kiss as the crowd coos and cheers.

“I love you too,” you whisper against his lips, and everyone around you erupts in “Awws!”

The premiere ends on a high note, filled with excitement and love. As you both head back to the hotel, the energy is electric.

Once inside your hotel room, the door closes behind you, and Nicholas pulls you in for a passionate kiss.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are tonight,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands caressing your waist.

You shiver at his touch, feeling desire surge through you. “And you’re absolutely irresistible.”

Nicholas grins, his eyes dark with hunger. “I want you, all of you.”

With urgency, you both shed your clothes, losing yourselves in the heat of the moment. As he pulls you onto the bed, he worships your body with soft kisses and sweet words.

His pumps his cock a few times before rubbing the glistening tip on your wet pussy before slowly pushing in.

“You feel so good,” he breathes, his lips trailing down your neck. “You’re everything I’ve wanted.”

You moan softly, feeling the heat rise between you.

“And you’re all mine,” you reply, looking into his eyes with fierce determination.

You gasp his name as he starts to rut into you softly, his forehead on yours and you stare into each other’s eyes. He was your entire world, everything faded away as you felt his cock brush you cervix and his fingers reached between your bodies, rubbing your clit slowly.

With a shared understanding, you both fall into a rhythm of passion, bodies moving in perfect harmony. His hands explore your curves as he whispers sweet nothings, making you feel cherished and desired.

“You’re so so beautiful baby, I love you, you’re everything to me.”

The words almost bring you to tears but the constant brushing of his cock against your g spot made you focus more on the pleasure you were feeling. “Fuck I’m gonna cum baby, I need you to cum with me, cum around my cock okay?” You nodded frantically feeling the overwhelming feeling of being near your release.

As you reach your climax, everything around you fades, and all you feel is him, his voice, and the intimacy of the moment.

Afterward, you lay entwined, breathless and content. Nicholas brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his gaze softening.

“You’re incredible. I’m so lucky to have you,” he says, kissing your forehead.

You smile, feeling a deep sense of love and belonging. “And I’m lucky to have you.”

In that moment, you both realize that you’re not just co-stars anymore; you’re partners, and this is just the beginning of your journey together.

[gd-dollopole]

Let’s take into consideration:

Arthur would rather waste precious time before an important council meeting to run around the entire castle and search for Merlin, who, in his very honest opinion, is the worst servant of the entire kingdom or that he had ever known, than to call literally anyone else to help him dress (as if there wouldn’t be anyone ready to assist Arthur, their king, with clothes);

Arthur, and therefore Agravaine (which makes it all the more hilarious) knows every single place where Merlin could be, at that precise moment, or during that day in general; (EDIT: As someone pointed out in the comments, everyone and Agravaine included, knows who is the “dollophead”)

The guards nod to Agravaine without asking anything, which only means that it is canon that everyone in Camelot knows Merlin by name; EDIT: It also means that the guards deal with this on a daily basis. They must be tired.

The aforementioned point implies that everyone knows how Merlin looks like, that also means Merlin is known to never leave Arthur’s side, even during council meetings;

Arthur is running around the castle in what today we would call a pyjama, just because Merlin didn’t wake him up with, “Rise and Shine”. And he’s barefoot. That’s right. The king of Camelot, everyone, has just walked barefoot in Merlin’s chambers, in the armoury, where other knights probably are, and in the bloody stables (yes, the ones where the horses and their dungs both are), without boots on, just to look for Merlin;

Arthur is more distressed in this scene than in the one where Morgana declares war in season five. He’s fretting like a mother hen. Not only he is without breath, which means he was just coming back from his checking around, but he is red in the face and almost yelling in desperation. “Does he expect me to dress myself?!” Because apparently, Arthur literally cannot do anything without Merlin by his side. The way he says, “No sign of him” to Agravaine is so endearing, and he shouldn’t be this adorable. Unfair, Arthur. Really unfair.

Arthur just yells, (and distressingly looks around) in hope that Merlin will come back to him, because he always does. *sounds of my heart breaking into millions of pieces*

And last but not least, Arthur shouts, “Last night!”, which means the actual reason he’s going around searching for Merlin, it’s because he’s worried his world will end without his quirky and clumsy servant by his side (and the love of his life). Merlin is currently out on a quest with Gwaine to look for Gaius, since he has been kidnapped, but the problem is that Arthur doesn’t know this. What he knows is that he has fought with Merlin the day before about Gaius in the council chambers, and believes Merlin is gone for good, this time, and solely for the fight they had. Arthur feels more than guilty that he can’t make it up to his best friend, the love of his life (Agravaine helped Morgana kidnap Gaius, and it explains the ending of the scene, where he understands where Merlin is.) Now Arthur is worried that his last words to Merlin were harsh. He had last seen him when he was done with his duties the night before, and then Merlin disappeared.

No wonder they deleted this scene.

[violet-eng]

F!reader spoils Lil Dragon!Zhongli... at first | Fluff🧸 (with dragon)+ 🔞 (with human Zhongli)

🎨by: @nagarnia_art and @JeanGreyCG

Summary: You're doing some research in the woods, looking for certain minerals, when you feel some tiny tiny eyes staring at you. After Zhongli morpps from a dragon to a human, things get a bit... hot...

Tw: with human Zhongli smut 🔞, PIV. Insinuations of breeding season, with dragon Zhongli just some cute Dragon behavior bc I ended up traumatized after writing some angst.

•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ● ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•

Your research is going well. Your reports to the Fontaine Science Institute were successful during your last expedition, earning you praise from your superiors. You have been living in Liyue for over six months. After learning about minerals that can emanate energy, you sought out information to educate yourself on the subject. 

The rocks in Liyue seem to have a memory, possibly due to the work of their Archon or as a natural result of high evolution and energetic vestiges from ancient wars. 

Zhongli, the Parlor consultant, had told you about a spot at the foot of a valley that might interest you, and you were amazed. You had no reason to doubt the man's wisdom. You had formed a deep bond of friendship with him because you admire his extensive knowledge about everything. You set off almost immediately. He had offered to accompany you, but you had refused because you prefer to do your research alone, surrounded by nature and away from the attractive distraction that Zhongli could become.

Your friend is attractive, in a way that you tried to express in your letters to your friends at Fontaine, but never succeeded. Your banal words and names do not do justice to the physique of this man of unshakable character, steely sense, and tenacious gaze. You could not bear to make a mistake in his presence during the expedition, not because you were clumsy, but because his figure moved your senses, your ground, and betrayed your own perceptions.

So, as you walk through a pleasant area of foliage, covered by the fierce, scorching rays of the sun, you decide to let your guard down, to take off your jacket and your gloves. You use a ribbon to tie up your hair as you walk on, arriving at the place Zhongli had shown you beforehand. The passage is strangely comfortable, very suitable for a quiet investigation, full of strange figures of small rocks of irregular and curious shapes.

Under the canopy of large trees, you spread out your arsenal of tools on the grass, put on your protective visors, and get to work. Sequencing the rock profile takes little time, your agile skills allowing you to avoid unnecessary pauses or clumsy backtracking typical of an amateur. Then you take the samples, tiny particles that do not alter the correct and productive nature that King Geo has protected for years, and while you wait for the filtering to finish, a strange sensation runs down your spine.

You had let your guard down during your experiment, letting the peaceful appearance of the place convince you, something very unprofessional on your part. So you turn to the side and feel a presence. Among the bushes, you spot a pair of curious little spheres, and you jump as the leaves rustle in the presence of an unknown being. 

A deep relief washes over you as the creature in question appears on the scene. A small dragon, microscopic in physiognomy compared to adult forms, with curious eyes and a golden tail twisted into a spiral. Its little paws make furrows in the ground, its face dejected, as if it had been caught doing something illegal.

"Little one, have you been watching me all this time?" You ask the cute little creature, who hides his head between his front paws, realizing he can't do it with his tail, which isn't long enough.

"Come here, don't be afraid of me," you whisper, approaching it cautiously, holding out your hands.

The dragon gathers itself in its own anatomy, growling low, sounding almost like a common cat, you can't help but laugh at it. You bring your fingers up to the growling pellet and stroke its head, right between its underdeveloped horns. You notice a puff of breath coming from the little guy's nose.

"How cute, you liked that, didn't you?" you laugh as you stroke his head and then his back, causing the miniature dragon's tail to wag.

"Come, sit with me, we'll have to wait a long time until the filtering is finished," you take him in your hands, on your palms.

"Wow... I've never seen one of your species so small... and those scales," you comment, bringing your face close to the reptile's, "I'd swear you have very, very soft skin, you're very rare, uh," you add, while you turn to your tools, which emit a strange smell.

You leave the dragon on the ground and approach your machinery, no, nothing out of place... well, now you can turn your attention to the little guy who... what is he doing?

You notice the tiny creature rubbing against your foot, making strange squeaks. It's... it's mating with your shoe? You burst out laughing and shake your foot, pushing it away and picking it up again.

"You horny little bugger," you say, poking him in the nose, "I forgot that your species is in mating season. I regret to inform you that you will get nowhere with me, I am not of the same species... ours is impossible."

A sad sigh escapes from the little animal's chest, and you notice how its whole face becomes depressed, its horns and ears seem to droop in deep disappointment.

"Don't cry," you say, putting it on the ground in the grass and lying down in front of it, "we can play if you want, to distract you a little”.

That got his attention, because he looked at you again. He walks up to you with his little paws and puts one on your nose, he starts to sniff you with that little button in the middle of his little face.

"Ohhh... do you want a little kiss?" you ask, flooded with tenderness, "I would do anything to make you happy" you say, placing a tender kiss on the dragon's forehead. Is like a puppy...

The dragon retraces his steps, accelerating and rolling his head in madness. You see him writhing in place, as if he had suddenly fallen ill, and then... poof... a golden flash and a trail of smoke,  ike the one he had just exhaled through his nose. A faint wave of heat and a faint smell of sulfur as a figure began to form behind the column of smoke.

You straightened up in your seat as the column disintegrated, revealing the very embarrassed image of Zhongli, covering his mouth as he coughs, with traces of smoke and golden flames escaping from his throat.

He is wearing little clothing, a tunic of the same color as the skin of the dragon you spoke to earlier... is that perhaps...? 

"You," you point an accusing finger at Zhongli, and he looks at you with flushed cheeks, "what was that? Aren't you going to say anything about it?" you say to the man, appearing to be annoyed, although in reality, seeing him in that outfit has aroused something pleasurable in you.

"Well?" you insist.

"Are you going to give me that kiss or?" he interjects, his voice still weak and embarrassed.

His embarrassment fades for the next hour, during which he relentlessly thrusts himself into you, waiting for your boring explorer machine to end.

The filtering of the rocks continues, the particles falling into the vessel like sand in a crystal clock. The small machines emit tiny clicks and a faint plume of smoke and gas. The rumble of the cycle's drumbeat advances in rhythm with your moans as you feel Zhongli sink deep into you.

You lie on the grass, your pants and panties around your ankles, your hands on your head clinging to the foliage, your waist encircled by Zhongli's large hands holding you steady so he can work his way into your pussy. You feel his pelvic bone against your center, his balls against your skin, and then he pulls away to enter again. Gently, lovingly, afraid to break you and hurt you. He's painfully slow, but how good it feels.

You hear him make low, rasping noises as faint plumes of smoke rise from his nose, as when he looked like a dragon. His cock twists inside you, slapping against your cervix, massaging your wet, warm depths that mold to the shape of his member. You feel the warmth rush down your legs, an electric current coursing through every fiber of your limbs, your chest heaving in desperation.

The orgasm hits you both at the same time, decorating Zhongli's cock with a white ring as his cum spills into you like thick ropes from his ecstasy. He pulls back your panties and pants, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek.

"May I mark you?" he asks with a look of honor, his face sublime and devoted.

"Don't even think about it," you say, joining in, noticing the sadness in his eyes, "we weren't even supposed to do it. It was just supposed to be a kiss and that's it," you seem to scold him, though it's you who's scolding yourself for being so unseemly and impetuous, though damn... you've enjoyed it so much... ....

Sensing your hostile tone, Zhongli wraps himself up and immediately transforms into his small reptilian form.

"Please stop being so dramatic," you express, leaning against one of the tree trunks and letting out a laugh. "Come back... I don't want to wait alone," you say, crossing your legs and putting your jacket down.

Zhongli, the dragon, approaches you with short steps, due to the length of his small legs, and climbs onto your lap, where he rubs the fabric of your coat, nestling into the fabric to take refuge, and lets out a yawn before closing his eyes and settling down for a nap. You stroke his back and coo to the little creature, feeling him purr like a cat.

"How cute you are when you sleep," you laugh, stroking his nose, causing him to bite your finger, "did you just mark me without my permission?" You ask, but he just squeals and jumps off your lap, looking for a way to escape. You catch him with your coat and throw it at him like a fleeing rat, but he manages to escape and hide in the bushes... you don't see him again for the rest of the afternoon, but you know that when you return to Liyue Harbour you will demand an apology, an explanation... and maybe a round two.

[stylesispunk]

"Hands in the hair of someone named marcus" | part ii

Marcus Acacius x f!reader

previous part

Summary: the cursed blood of Geta and Caracalla runs through your veins sealing your fate. However, General Acacius is willing to fight for you and you become his most important reason to live.

w.c: 6k.

Warnings: angst, smut (if you could call it that), power imbalance, violence, fluff.

a/n: Thank you so much for the love you gave to the first part of this one (I could cry). I literally loved General Acacius so much and he deserves better and all the flowers. With this part I don't know if a third one is necessary, so I hope you like it and enjoy it! Remember, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading. 💌

| dividers by @/saradika-graphics |

by the way, I'm working on some requests, I haven't forgotten about you. I'm just really busy. 🤞✨

“You make it sound so simple,” you murmured, your voice soft but laced with deep worry

Marcus smiled faintly, the corner of his lips lifting in a way that made your heart burst. “Love doesn’t erase chaos, my lady,” he said, his tone carrying the weight of years spent in timeless battles. “But it gives you something to dream of”

The peace you had found in Marcus words and presence, was fleeting as a storm passing by during a summer day. The soothing protections you felt under his stare was shattered the moment Geta and Caracalla noticed your absence.

Despite them not being as much loved as you by the people. Servants’ loyalty fell on them and it was a matter of time for them to find the truth intentions behind the demeanor of the beloved General Acacius.

You barely had time to breathe before the heavy doors to the villa burst open, and there they were, Geta and Caracalla, flanked by their guards. Their faces were twisted with fury, their regal demeanor replaced by a feral madness that made your blood run cold.

There you were back the palace, locking gazes with the man your brothers had promised you to. And you barely had time to breathe before there was blood was dripping from the fallen gladiator who had been won the battle in the arena.

Yours felt in your ears, the rush, the bombing and the guilt.

Your hand was a fake prize for a foolish man dreaming of his freedom. Dreaming of belonging to the most powerful family of the empire.

You were speechless, so it was Acacius who stood by your side as a personal armored guard, swearing to protect you from the cruel madness your brothers had descended into.

"Do you think I do not love you, sister?" Geta asked, with a tone that sent shivers down your spine. "I wouldn't allow a man like that to marry you" he said referring to the now lifeless gladiator laying on the floor.

Geta walked closer to you, in a swift moment he raised his hand to caress your face, but before he could even reach your skin. Marcus stepped in front of you, defying the emperor

Geta froze, his hand lingering midair as Marcus placed himself between the two of you. The tension in the air was suffocating, the once-roaring crowd now silenced by the audacity of Marcus’s actions.

"Step aside, General," Geta hissed, his voice dripping with menace, though his expression betrayed a flicker of disbelief.

Marcus met his gaze with unflinching resolve. "With all due respect, Emperor, I will not."

Geta’s eyes narrowed, his nostrils flaring as he took a step closer, his face inches from Marcus’s. "You dare defy me?”

Marcus did not waver. "I swore an oath to serve Rome, and that includes its people. Your sister above all. She is not yours to intimidate, Emperor."

The crowd murmured in hushed tones, the audacity of the general spreading like wildfire among them. Caracalla rose from his seat, his expression one of cold calculation as he descended the steps toward the scene.

"Kill him," Caracalla shouted, his eyes burned with anger.

Geta ignored him, his focus locked solely on Marcus. "You think your rank protects you, General Acacius?”

Marcus’s jaw tightened, but he spoke with measured restraint. "I think my loyalty to Rome and its empire is unwavering. But I will not stand by and allow cruelty you bring to your sister.”

The words struck a nerve. Geta’s lips curled into a bitter smile as he finally dropped his hand, though his eyes never left Marcus. "Bold words, General," he said, stepping back. "Perhaps too bold for a man whose future depends on my goodwill."

He turned to the crowd, spreading his arms as if to dismiss the tension. "Let it be known," he declared, his voice echoing across the arena, "that my sister is under my protection. Any man who wishes to court her must prove his worth, not just to her, but to Rome."

His gaze flickered back to Marcus; his smile venomous. "Are you willing to stake your life on this, General? To face the arena in her name?"

Marcus did not hesitate. "I am."

The arena erupted in chaos, the crowd roaring with approval at the prospect of a new fight. Geta’s smile widened as he leaned closer to Marcus, his voice low enough for only the two of you to hear.

"Then prepare yourself, Acacius," he whispered. "Because I will make sure this fight is the hardest battle of your life."

He turned and strode away, Caracalla following closely behind. Marcus remained still, his shoulders rigid as the crowd cheered for the fight to come.

You reached out, your hand brushing his arm. "Marcus," you whispered, your voice trembling.

He turned to you, his expression softening for the briefest moment. "Do not fear, my lady," he said, his voice steady. "I will win. For you."

Your heart ached at the weight of his words, but before you could respond, he stepped away, his focus already on the battle ahead.

The days passed in agonizing silence, and ahead to the battle at the coliseum, you were confined to your quarters, guarded closely by your brother’s guards. Two of the were stood just outside your door as a warning, even beyond all that, as a reminder of the power Geta and Caracalla held over you.

You hadn’t had news of Marcus since the day you parted ways after he told your brothers he was going to fight for you at the Arena. The fear and worry consumed you, and even your own servants met with a soft indifference and dismissal. It was as if the world had conspired to separate you from the one person who had fought to protect you. You spent your days pacing the confines of your chamber, that now felt suffocating.

You imagined Marcus alone, preparing for the fight under the oppressive gaze of your brothers. Was he thinking of you? Did he share the same fear that gripped your heart? Or was he steadfast in his resolve, his mind fixed solely on the battle to come? 

Would he have regretted it?

Not bearing the questions anymore, you got up from your bed determined to break your brothers’ orders and persuade the only desire fueling flames in your heart.

The moon hung low in the sky, its light spilling into your chambers as you slipped through the doorway, your heart pounding in your chest. The guards outside had been lured away with a clever diversion, and you moved quickly, draped in a simple cloak that hid your identity.

You held your breath, waiting, but the guards remained oblivious.

Wrapping a cloak tightly around your shoulders, you slipped into the corridor, moving swiftly but silently. The villa seemed to be a labyrinth of shadowy hallways.

The night air bit at your skin as you reached the courtyard. The sound of the guards’ boots echoing in the distance urged you forward, and with grace, you mounted the horse, urging it into a gallop toward Marcus’s quarters at the edge of the city.

The journey was risky. The streets of Rome were alive even at this hour, the echoes of revelry and the whispers of the approaching battle filling the air. You kept your hood low, your heart racing with every shadow that moved.

Finally, you arrived at his villa. It was modest compared to the luxuriousness of the imperial palace, but it was guarded nonetheless. Two soldiers stood at the entrance, their posture rigid. You dismounted, your steps purposeful as you approached them.

“I need to see him,” you said, your voice firm despite the tremor of fear beneath it.

The guards exchanged a glance, their hesitation palpable once they noticed who you were. “The general has ordered no visitors, my lady.” one of them said.

“I am not a visitor,” you countered, your voice rising slightly. “Will you stand in my way?”

They hesitated, but something in your tone made them step aside.

“I’ll take you with him” one of them offered.

You nodded. The guard gestured for you to follow, leading you through the dimly lit villa. You kept your hood low, your heart pounding in your chest. Every creak of the floorboards and every distant sound made your pulse quicken, but you refused to let fear deter you.

“This way, my lady,” the guard whispered, stopping at the end of a long hallway. “His quarters are just beyond this door.”

You nodded, slipping a small pouch of coins into his hand. “Thank you,” you said softly.

He bowed his head. “I wish you both the best.”

As the guard retreated, you turned to the door. Your hand trembled as it hovered over the handle, the weight of the past days pressing heavily on your shoulders. You took a steadying breath and pushed the door open.

The room was warm, lit only by the glow of a hearth. Marcus sat at a sturdy wooden table, poring over a map with a furrowed brow. His armor was laid in the table beside him, the metal gleaming in the firelight. The sight of him dressed in a white tunic, so strong, made your chest tighten with longing.

The sound of the door closing behind you drew his attention. His head snapped up, and for a moment, his expression was unreadable. Then his features softened, his brow relaxing as recognition dawned.

“My lady,” he said, rising to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t stay away,” you said, your voice thick with emotion as you stepped closer. “I had to see you.”

His gaze flickered to the door behind you, his shoulders tensing. “You shouldn’t have come. If your brothers-”

“I don’t care what they think,” you interrupted, your voice trembling with resolve. “I needed to see you. To know you’re well.”

His expression softened, and he reached out, his hands settling on your shoulders. “You took an enormous risk coming here. If they find out-”

“I don’t care,” you interrupted, your hands gripping the front of his tunic. “I couldn’t bear another moment without you. Tomorrow feels like a lifetime away from seeing you again.”

Marcus’s gaze darkened with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, and his hands slid down your arms, pulling you closer. “You’ve always been braver than I deserve,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “But you shouldn’t have to be.”

He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and desperate, as though he needed to memorize the feel of you. The weight of the world melted away in that moment, leaving only the two of you and the quiet hum of the night.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. You were the closest thing he had to touch the moon that shine over you with his own hands, his heart felt at ease at the thought of you and now that he was looking directly at you, he felt alive and braver than ever.

“Tomorrow, I’ll fight for you and for us,” he said, his voice resolute. “And I’ll win. I swear it.”

His words were a solemn vow, carrying the weight of his love and his unyielding strength of power. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, and for a moment, the universe seemed to hold its breath, the stars outside aligning for the two of you.

“Marcus,” you whispered, “You’re everything to me. I don’t care about their rules or their power. All I care about is you.”

His lips curved into a faint smile; a softness rarely seen breaking through the stoicism that often cloaked him. “Then you’ve already given me the strength I need,” he replied, his hands sliding from your arms to cradle your face. His thumbs brushed your cheeks, as if memorizing the feel of your skin beneath his calloused touch could save him from his duties and just sacred himself to serve and adore you.

“I’ll return to you,” he said, the conviction in his tone leaving no room for doubt. “No force in this world could keep me away.”

The sheer intensity of his gaze sent shivers through you, and you found yourself leaning into him, finding solace in his unwavering presence. “I’ll be waiting,” you promised, capturing his lips in a desperate attempt to feel like he wouldn't die for you in the arena.

You didn't want to become the wife of a dead husband; you didn't want Marcus to die for you. You just wanted him and all the love he had to offer.

Marcus deepened the kiss, his hand pressing against the small of your back to hold you closer, as if he too feared the distance that tomorrow might bring. His other hand cradled your face with a gentleness that contrasted the ferocity of his actions. For a moment, time seemed to halt, the world outside fading into oblivion. It was just the two of you, locked in an embrace that spoke of love, desperation, and promises yet to be written.

“Acacius” you whispered, feeling the fire burning inside you.

Marcus’s name on your lips was a melody he never wanted to stop hearing. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours, his breath mingling with yours as though he couldn’t bear even a whisper of space between you. The fire you felt inside was reflected in his gaze, a raw, unyielding passion, tempered by the tenderness of a man who loved you more than life itself.

"Say it again," he murmured, his voice low, rough, as if your words were the only thing grounding him.

“Acacius,” you repeated, your voice trembling at the feeling of his hands roaming all over your body as a delicate map of Roma itself, the same Acacius had sworn to serve and protect.

His hands traced your skin with reverence, as if he were mapping the contours of not just your body, but your very soul. Each touch was delicate, as though he were imprinting his essence into every inch of you, claiming you in the most intimate way possible.

"Your name," he breathed, his lips brushing against your ear, "is the only thing I need to hear. The only thing that matters." His voice was like a caress, both tender and desperate.

You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his breath on your neck, of his touch, the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your palm. “And I, you," you whispered back, your hands exploring the firm planes of his chest, his heart beating in sync with yours.

His actions hit a chord inside you that you didn’t know existed. The weight of his promises and devotion, the depth of his feelings, was overwhelming. You leaned closer, wrapping your arms around him, needing to feel him against you, to feel that he was real.

"I need you, Marcus," you whispered, your lips grazing his jaw, trembling with the depth of your words. "I need you to come back to me. Please, don’t let anything happen to you."

He pulled you into him, his hands framing your face as he kissed you, slowly, deeply, pouring all of his promises into the kiss. "I swear it," he breathed against your lips, his hands sliding down your body, his touch fierce with resolve. "I will come back. No matter what. I swear it on the gods and on my heart."

With those words, he kissed you again, and in that kiss, you could taste the sweet desperation, the love, the unspoken promises. And as the world outside faded away, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again. He was yours, and you were his. And nothing, not even fate itself, could break that bond.

“Lay on the bed” he ordered, softly. Still caressing your jaw and neck with the touch of his lips on you.

Under the spell he seemed to have you under, you obeyed him, lying down carefully on his bed, not breaking the gaze between the two of you. He came towards you, with a look that seemed to burn you, but with love and adoration, to which you could give yourself without thinking of the consequences.

With his body over yours, he kept looking down at you as if you were the greatest treasure in this empire. His lips drew maps over you, on your cheeks, on your lips, on your neck. When his hands rested on your breasts, it felt like the air in your lungs didn't know where to go. The feeling was something you hadn't experienced, but you wanted to dive into it.

His fingers worked with your dress, leaving you completely bare under his stare. You turned your head to the side, embarrassed to be seen this way, but he with his fingers held your jaw, delicately.

“You’re the most beautiful woman, my lady” he whispered, kissing your lips, as his hands returned to your breasts, eliciting whimpers from your mouth.

His lips began to move down from your lips to your chest, planting kisses on where your heart was beating rapidly for him and the love you felt. Then, he delicately grabbed one of your nipples with his mouth, savoring the way your body reacted under his actions, your back arched for him, and his hands caressed your waist, trying to hold you in place.

Under him, under his actions, but not under his possession.

“Acacius” you moaned, softly. The way he was making you feel was something foreign to you, something you thought you would never feel.

His hand travelled up to your lips, his thumb tracing delicate patterns on your lips, as you kiss it with the same intention despite the fire burning inside you, your mind felt void and your body felt limb under Marcus orders.

With his hand on your lips, his detached from your breast, planting kisses down, leaving a hot patch down until he reached your stomach.

“God…” you whispered faintly.

His hands intertwined yours in attempt to hold you, as he kept kissing down your stomach, going even lower, until you could feel his breath where you needed him the most.

"I want to give you all I have," Marcus whispered, “But tonight I cannot.”

Before you could even respond, you felt his lips on your thighs, soft and delicate working up on you. Your breathing seemed to catch, until he reached the place where you needed him most.

Releasing a long sigh, your body seemed to gave up to him “Acaius...yes, just there.” you murmured faintly.

His lips seemed to know every part of you and nothing ever felt as good as it felt now. Your back arched as his mouth seemed to be taking you to the stars. In every kiss, in every touch, in every foreign sensation that was becoming familiar.

Acacius was starved, hungry for you. “You taste like heaven, my lady” he murmured.

Your hands let go of his, reaching up to his curls, bringing him even more impossibly close. You could feel his breath on you and how his tongue worked to please you.

Before you could even cry out, he detached his lips from your cunt, grabbing your mouth with his fiercely. His hands roamed over you, pulling you closer to him, as if he couldn’t get enough. Your legs instinctively crossed around his middle, anchoring him to you, and for a moment, the world outside seemed so distant, so unimportant. It was just the two of you, entwined in a way that made everything else fade away.

His lips left yours for a moment, trailing soft kisses down your neck as he whispered sweet things to you, his voice hushed and filled with the kind of devotion that left your heart racing.

“I’m sorry my lady, I shouldn’t have- “

“I’m yours,” you interrupted, locking your gaze with his.

His eyes softened as he gazed down at you, his hands now resting gently on your waist.

“And I’m yours” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm against the delicate curve of your neck. “Every part of me, every breath, belongs to you.”

“I want this” you reassured.

“And I do want this too, my lady. But after I win, after I marry you. I will take you with no fear inside me.” He replied. There was no need for more words; everything had already been said. The love, the longing, the passion was there.

With a final kiss, Marcus slowly pulled away, his forehead resting against yours once more. "I'll be back for you," he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion. "I swear it."

And you, holding him in your arms, closed your eyes, trusting him, knowing that no matter what, you would always find your way back to each other.

You gazed into Marcus’s eyes, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment, but his words pulled you back to reality. There was no escaping what tomorrow would bring.

"Rest?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "How can I, knowing what you're about to face?"

Marcus smiled, his expression softening with a warmth that made your heart swell. “Because, my lady, you need your strength for the days ahead. And because I promised you I would return.” He gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "Sleep, knowing that I am fighting for you. For us."

Your throat tightened as you nodded, unwilling to argue any longer. You needed to let him go, if only for a short while. You kissed him one last time, a lingering promise between you both, before pulling away reluctantly.

"I'll be waiting for you," you said, your voice steady despite the storm inside your chest. "I know you'll win.”

With a final, lingering look, Marcus kissed your lips for the last time. “Go back to the palace before they find out you are gone.”

You nodded, your heart heavy with the weight of his words. The reality of the situation hit you all at once—tomorrow would change everything. Marcus’s life hung in the balance, and there was nothing you could do but wait and trust in him.

“I’ll go back,” you whispered, pulling away from his embrace reluctantly. The cold air of the room seemed to hit you all at once, and the walls felt smaller, enclosing around you as you stepped away.

Reluctantly, you turned to leave. The door closed behind you with a quiet click, and the silence that followed felt like a weight pressing down on you. Every step away from him was a struggle, but you had to return to your brothers' watchful eyes, to the prison of the palace where they kept you safe, yes, but at what cost?

The night felt endless as you made your way back, every sound magnified in the stillness. You slipped inside your quarters, the shadows of the room wrapping around you like a cloak.

The dawn arrived far too quickly, casting a pale light through the narrow windows of your room. The silence of the early morning felt suffocating, the weight of the coming day settling over you like a thick fog. You lay still, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, unable to summon the strength to rise.

What if he doesn't make it out alive?

The day of the fight arrived, the arena packed with eager spectators. The air buzzed with excitement and bloodlust as the crowd roared for their favorite gladiators. You sat in the imperial box, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched Marcus step into the arena, his armor gleaming in the midday sun.

He looked up at you, his gaze steady and unwavering. For a moment, it was as if the crowd didn’t exist, as if the two of you were the only ones in the world.

Geta leaned toward you, a wicked grin on his face. “Enjoy the show, dear sister. It may be the last time you see him standing.”

You ignored him, your eyes fixed on Marcus as the gates to the arena opened, and his opponents emerged.

Two gladiators, seasoned and ruthless, stalked toward him, their weapons glinting menacingly. The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices deafening as the fight began.

Geta's smug expression faltered as the fight progressed. Caracalla leaned forward, his lips pressed into a thin line. They had underestimated Marcus. He wasn’t just their general; he was a force of nature, unrelenting and unyielding.

Your heart raced with every clash of swords, every grunt of exertion. When one opponent fell, another rose to take his place. It was as though they were testing Marcus, pushing him to his limits, but he didn’t falter.

A particularly vicious challenger came at him with a spear, forcing Marcus to dodge and roll. The crowd gasped, and your breath caught in your throat as the blade skimmed his armor, drawing a shallow line of blood.

“Do you see how much he bleeds for you, sister?” Geta’s voice was low, meant only for you to hear.

You didn’t answer, your eyes glued to Marcus. His movements slowed for a brief moment as he wiped the sweat and blood from his brow, but when he straightened, his resolve burned brighter than ever. He caught your gaze, and in that instant, it was as if the rest of the arena disappeared.

He fought for you, for the life you both longed for.

The final opponent stepped forward, a hulking brute armed with a massive sword. The crowd fell into a hushed silence, the tension thick in the air.

“Come on, Acacius,” you whispered under your breath, gripping the fabric of your gown so tightly your knuckles turned white.

The battle was brutal, each strike echoing through the arena like a drumbeat. Marcus moved with precision and strategy, using his smaller size and quicker reflexes to outmaneuver his opponent. The fight dragged on, the brute’s strength clashing against Marcus’s endurance.

Then, with a burst of speed, Marcus ducked under a wide swing and plunged his sword into the man’s side. The brute fell to his knees, and the crowd erupted in deafening cheers.

Marcus stood over his fallen opponent, his chest heaving, his armor streaked with blood. The herald stepped forward, announcing his victory to the roaring masses.

Geta scowled, his hand tightening around the armrest of his throne. “So, he wins,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Marcus turned to face the royal dais; his sword lowered but his gaze unwavering. “Emperor Geta, Emperor Caracalla” he called out, his voice carrying across the arena. “I have won this fight, as promised. Now I claim my prize, your sister as my wife.”

The crowd fell silent, awaiting Geta’s response. He rose from his seat, his face a mask of reluctant acceptance. “Very well, General Acacius,” he said, his tone clipped. “You have proven your worth. Take her.”

The silence that followed Geta's words felt like an eternity, heavy with the weight of what had just been declared. The air was thick with anticipation, and every eye in the Colosseum seemed to be on you. You stood there, still in the royal box, your heart pounding against your ribs as the realization hit you. Marcus had won, but the price was not just his life, it was your freedom.

Freedom was wherever he was.

You had been raised to understand the weight of loyalty, of duty, of family. But the fire that had burned between you and Marcus, the undeniable connection, had created a chasm between you and your brothers’ demands.

With each step Marcus took toward you, you could feel the eyes of the crowd on you, the pressure mounting as Geta’s scowl deepened.

“Don’t make me regret this, General Acacius.” Geta sneered as Marcus reached the steps, his voice laced with venom.

“I will not,” Marcus replied, his voice low. He climbed the steps of the royal box, his eyes never leaving you. When he reached you, he extended a hand toward you, strong and yet gentle, as if offering you not just a way out, but a promise of something more.

“Come with me, my lady.” he said softly, his voice breaking through the tumultuous emotions swirling inside you.

You hesitated for a moment, looking between your brothers and Marcus. Caracalla’s gaze was colder than ever, while Geta’s expression was twisted with frustration. It was clear neither of them had wanted this outcome. But they had given their approval, and now, there was nothing left for you but to make your choice.

Without a word, you placed your hand in Marcus’s. His grip was firm and reassuring as he helped you down from the royal box and onto the arena floor. The crowd erupted into cheers, their admiration for the general evident, but all you could hear was the steady beat of your heart.

“I do,” you whispered, the weight of everything, your family, your duty, your past, melting away under the intensity of his gaze.

“Do you truly wish to be mine, my lady?” Marcus asked, his voice a mix of challenge and tenderness as he gazed down at you, his hand still holding yours.

The days following the battle were a whirlwind of preparations, but not the kind you had ever imagined. While the Colosseum was still abuzz with the echoes of Marcus’s victory, the grand celebration your brothers had envisioned was coming. Servants ran through the villa, gathering flowers, arranging fine fabrics, and preparing for the grand ceremony that would take place the following day. But amidst all the anticipation, Marcus had quietly arranged something more personal, a moment just for the two of you, away from the expectations, away from the people, and away from the watchful eyes of the world.

A ceremony where only the two of you would be able to be part of.

No witnesses, but only the eyes of God.

The morning sunlight poured into the room, illuminating the soft hues of your garments as the servants busied themselves around you, adjusting folds and fastening clasps. You stood still, gazing out the window as they worked, your thoughts swirling between the ceremony last night and the new reality of soon-to-be Marcus’s wife.

The quiet hum of their chatter stopped abruptly, drawing your attention to the doorway. Marcus stepped in, his eyes locking onto yours with a look that seemed to quiet everything around you. He was dressed simply, not in the regal finery expected of a groom, but in a dark tunic that spoke more to his strength than his status.

His presence commanding yet calm. The servants turned to greet him, bowing their heads respectfully.

“May I have a moment with my lady?” he asked, his voice steady but kind.

The servants exchanged glances, then nodded, bowing their heads again before retreating from the room. As the door closed behind them, Marcus crossed the space to you, his steps unhurried.

“You seem a vision of grace this morning,” he murmured, his eyes taking in the sight of you.

You turned to face him, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “You flatter me, my general.”

His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the fabric of your dress. “It seems they left a task unfinished,” he said softly, gesturing to the loose lace at the back of your gown.

Before you could respond, Marcus stepped behind you, his hands deftly taking the lace and beginning to knot it. His touch was gentle, yet firm, the brush of his knuckles against your back sending shivers down your spine.

“There,” he said, his voice lower now, almost a whisper. “Perfect.”

His hands lingered for a moment before he leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder, where the silk of your dress met your skin. The warmth of his lips lingered, leaving your heart pounding.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his breath sending a thrill through you.

You turned slightly, your gaze meeting his. “Marcus…” you started, but the words seemed to fail you.

He straightened, his expression softening as he cupped your cheek with one hand. "Are you ready?" He asked gently.

You nodded, though your heart beat faster at the thought of what he had planned. “What are we doing?” you asked, curiosity stirring within you.

With a smile, Marcus held out his hand, the familiar strength and tenderness in his grip making your heart swell. "Come with me," he said softly, leading you out of the room and down the hallway, away from the bustle of servants and preparations.

You followed him through the villa’s quiet halls, your feet barely making a sound on the marble floors. Finally, you reached the private garden at the rear of the villa, a secluded spot surrounded by towering columns and vines heavy with flowers. The air here was cooler, calmer, and the scent of blooming jasmine filled the air.

This was where he had chosen to steal a moment for the two of you, where there would be no prying eyes, no expectations, just you and him.

"Acacius, what are we doing here?" you asked, your voice filled with wonder.

He turned to face you, his eyes shining with something deeper than just love, a sense of peace, perhaps, or gratitude. “Before we stand in front of everyone tomorrow, I wanted to share this moment with you.” he said, his tone low and sincere.

He reached for your hand, gently pulling you towards him. “This is our wedding, our vows,” he continued, his words soft but filled with unwavering emotion. “I don’t need the crowds to tell me I’m making the right choice. I just need you.”

A tear welled up in your eye at his words, the depth of his love and devotion overwhelming you. Marcus cupped your face with his hands, the touch warm and grounding.

“I know we can’t avoid the grand ceremony tomorrow,” he said, his voice tinged with regret. “But here, in this moment, with no one else around, I want to give you all of me. You are my heart, and I want to vow myself to you, not in front of an emperor, not before the masses, but just to you.”

With his words, Marcus dropped to one knee, the powerful general you had come to admire now humbled by love and sincerity. "I stand before you today, not as a general, not as a man of Rome, but as a man who has found his purpose in you. You are my courage, my calm, and my reason to fight for something beyond duty. I vow to protect you with my life, to honor you with my actions, and to cherish you with every breath I take. Whatever battles may come, I will face them with you by my side. From this day forward, my heart belongs to you, and you alone."

"I..." you whispered, your voice trembling as you stepped closer, your hands trembling as they reached for him. You cupped his face in your hands, your eyes searching his for any trace of doubt. But there was none. There was only a quiet strength that matched your own, a promise you could hold onto for a lifetime.

"Acacius," you breathed, and this time, it was your turn to drop to your knees before him, your heart too full to be contained. You touched his face gently, as though afraid the moment might shatter if you touched him too hard.

"I vow to you as well," you said, your voice gaining strength with each word, your heart swelling with an emotion that could no longer be contained. "I vow to stand by your side, no matter what comes. I will be your strength when you need it, your peace when the world feels too heavy. I will love you beyond all else, in every way, in every moment. You are my heart as much as I am yours, Marcus. And I will spend every day proving it to you."

Marcus took your hands in his, his thumb brushing across your skin in a gesture so simple, so intimate, that it felt like a promise in itself. "You are everything to me," he whispered. "And from now on, your protection is my biggest battle to fight.

[cvnt4him]

Reader who got hit w a bunny quirk during a mission w izu please smuttt I love yew💋

I love you too bbg💕

This is actually like a great idea and I had the EXACT same one except izuku was the bunny. Yeah this one is way fucking better.

"don't be amused, it's just the news! This just in; we have more details about pro heros deku and y/n's fight with the new and upcoming villain; sphinx. A local has given us amateur footage of y/n getting blasted with sphinx's quirk! They have the ability to turn others and themselves into animals! Y/n has been out of the hero scene for a while, as far as we know with the information her close friend and partner deku has given us, she's going to be out of hero work for a while, they haven't found a cure or much of a loophole with sphinx's quirk. Next in a cat stuck in a tre---"

You shut the TV off with a groan of annoyance. Why hadn't this gone away yet? You've been like this for a week. A long, miserable, insufferable, week. You weren't alone, even if you wanted to be, izuku wouldn't let you. He felt guilty, he felt as if you were like this because of him. During your fight together he pushed you out of the way when a flying car had come your way, you'd known nothing about the villain upon fighting them. Izuku however, knew everything about the villain, he pulled his mask up before the fight even began.

Izuku always got in a certain head space when fighting whether it be a measly robber, or a very experienced and high tech villain. He always made sure he was ready and that morning could take him out of this state. He just wishes he had warned you beforehand of what the villain was capable of.

You look at your reflection in the black TV screen with a frown. You hated the way you looked. Two fluffy bunny ears standing tall before falling to either side of your face. Izuku walks into your room going completely unnoticed, he spoke and sat down your cup of water but his words falling into deaf ears.

"y/n...?"

His voice nothing above a whisper, sitting beside you while patting your head lightly. People always shipped you two due to the way he treated you, don't get me wrong hes nice to everyone regardless of who they are or where they come from. People just liked to do stupid shit in their free time so you never really took it to heart, mostly because izuku always avoided and shut down all questions that surfaced about you two during interviews. Saying he only saw you as a friend.

You turn to him slowly your sad eyes staring up at him. He sighs while giving you a sad look back, putting your foreheads together. He hadn't left your side at all besides when he and to work, but he made sure to come right back to your apartment to assure that you were alright. It's not like you were sick or anything because you weren't. You could walk, talk, shower, cook, and do everything just fine, but he insisted you do nothing he felt far too guilty to even allow you to lift a finger. He once apologized for you telling him you thought about cooking on your own.

He whispers an "I'm sorry" while your heads are together, you simply chuckle and try to smile. Your quirk had been disabled due to being transformed. There's always a loophole in quirks so why hasn't anyone found one for sphinx's quirk? It was weighing on you far too heavily for either of your liking. Izukus heart ached for you to get better, he hated seeing you like this, all sad and unable to do anything for yourself. You can but for some odd reason he thinks you can't do you just let him take care of you.

Izuku pulls away, putting his fingers in your hair and scratching your scalp, the soothing motion making you sigh and lay your head on his shoulder. He hums with a smile that didn't meet his eyes, he grabs the remote from you and puts on a movie, grabbing your cup of water to ensure that you are hydrated.

You both had fallen asleep on each other, his head on top of yours while you laid on his shoulder. You got up and stretched making him get more comfortable and turn his head to lay on a pillow beside him. You looked at him closely, admiring each and every freckle that littered his cheeks and slightly down his neck his chest moving up and down in a smooth rhythm. He looked so peaceful not having to worry and feel guilty for your current state. Your body moved on it's own, one of your hands moving to his chest rubbing up and down his body. He was very toned, you knew this you could practically see it through his new skin tight suit. It hugged his body deliciously.

You couldn't take your eyes off of him, his shirt was slightly raised and scrunched up ending just above his v line, the way it looked like it was sculpted by gods. He looked like a Greek god himself. His body was fucking hot.

Your tail wiggled and twitched against the bed light noise coming from the way it moved. You bit your lip lightly while looking down where his shorts hugged his waist. Your eyes kept trailing down his figure landing on where a tent in his shorts sat. He was completely flaccid yet his thick cock made a very visible print. Fuck this was really turning you on, he was completely unconscious and unaware of how you were fucking him with your eyes. Your hand moved down to his dick print and gently rubbed over it making him take a deep breath and breathe out slowly, you noticed this and continued your movements while staring at his face, a pink hue forming onto his baby-like cheeks.

You watched as he gulped and turned his head in your direction with a breathy and quick sigh, he was getting bothered by how you teased his semi erect cock. His brows slightly furrowed while you stopped your hands movements completely, his cock twitched against your hand making your eyes shoot down to his cock, seeing it fully erect and leaking slightly against his thin shorts. God this was such a sight, it was so fucking hot and lewd, you felt guilty for getting him all hot and bothered but seeing the way his cock twitched and bobbed up and down for your touch was hypnotizing.

Without thinking you hopped onto his lap you weight sitting on top of him making him shift under you, that was almost enough to snap you out of whatever trance he put you in but the way he put his hands on your thighs and rubbed them out you right back into the daze you never got out of.

Your tail wiggled against his thigh as you slowly grind into him, rubbing your clothes pussy against his clothed cock in a slow yet rough manner. a moan accidentally slipped out of your mouth when his cock rubbed against your clit in the best way.

You panted lightly as the grind of your hips started to quicken in pace, you dug your hips down into his to feel his cock press against you. A noise left his throat as he gripped your waist tightly, his grasp bruising your skin while pushing you down more into him. You didn't think about the fact that he might've woken up due to your moans and the way you moved helplessly on top of him. He rubbed his cock up into you to feel that light friction that had him dizzy.

You grabbed onto his shoulders and rode him like you were actually riding his cock. The thought alone of actually getting to ride his cock getting you to that building release. He moaned deeply before his eyes slightly opened and peered up at you, you were too busy in your own haze to acknowledge the way he looked at you, your fucked out face contorting in such a pretty way.

He couldn't believe you were using him while he was asleep, riding his clothed cock for all that it's worth. He bit his lip and flipped the both of you, a scream ripping right out of you as you look up at him with wide scared eyes. He could only look down at you with lust filled ones. His emerald orbs looking at every feature that painted your body, the way your thighs looked more plump because of your shorts. Your boobs spilling out the top of your tank top. You looked so good and the way you looked at him with those scree and glossy eyes went straight to his aching cock. He was so ready to split you in half on his thick cock, he knew you'd have a struggle but it'd be worth it just to be inside of you. He'd wait as long as he'd have to just to feel your pussy squeeze around his cock.

No words were said as he went in to kiss you, lightly pressing his dry but soft lips against yours. A moan left you as your tail wiggled underneath you, you were so horny and you could feel the way it ate you alive from the inside out, you were so close to crying from how much it burned inside of you.

"please.. please fuck me, I need it."

You whispered up to him with a raspy voice, whining as your eyes moved down to his cock, it looked like it was going to burst out of his shorts with the way it stood up proudly.

He smirked at you with lidded eyes while he kissed you neck, you closed your eyes and fell into the soft kisses being planted on your sensitive neck, he moved his kisses up to your bunny ears blowing on them lighting, the soft feeling of it all making your pussy throb and a whimper leave you lips.

He chuckled lowly to himself as he flipped you over into your stomach. He pressed his chest and his hard cock against your ass cheek as he whispered in your ear.

"using me while I sleep? naughty thing. poor bunny, must need it badly, hm?"

You nodded your head aggressively while rubbing your ass against his hard on, earning a low groan from the muscular man above you.his weight on you felt so good and it wasn't even sexual at all.

He slipped your shorts and underwear down in one swift move, he pulled his own down as he teased your dripping hole, slipping his engorged cock head in and out of your lips. Your eyes roll as you lift your ass in the air and wiggle against his cock. he's surprised by this, a chuckle leaving him while he pulls you back by your ears, a squeak leaving you while he slaps your ass.

"you're so fucking needy huh? this sopping wet cunny of yours dripping around my cock, hm?"

You nod again, not being able to speak due to your throat getting rather dry. He hums and slips his cock in halfway before taking it out quickly, this went on for about 5 minutes, the torture was so funny to him yet painful for you. You felt as if you were going to die, the heat forming inside of you burned badly. You needed release, finally being def up with his teasing, the second he tried to do it again you slammed your ass back onto him taking his cock fully, a choked moan leaving his pink lips.

He groaned loudly while lying his head on your shoulder with a smile, he was out of breath from you taking his cock fully. He chuckled against your skin while kissing it, he bit harshly on the skin of your shoulder making you scream while he thrusted vigorously into your soaked pussy, the squelching noises clouding his mind while he moaned into your ear and grabbed onto your bunny ears. The sensitive muscle being pulled painfully hard went straight to your throbbing cunt, the way he slammed his hips into you and hit that spot repeatedly was just enough to make you cum, but he knew you were going to by the way you started squeezing his cock for all he was worth, milking him and slicking his cock up with your fluid.

“A-Agh fuck don’t stop- don’t fuckin stop.”

You command him while throwing your ass back, you were feeling too good you felt as if you weren't even in control, the way your body moved lewdly against him was inhumane and unlike you. You'd never felt the need to be near someone like this, like you yearned for his very touch, for him to cum inside of you. Oh. God that sounded so good, the thought of his warm thick cum spilling and spreading inside of you made you squeeze around his cock even more.

Just when you felt as if you were going to cum you felt the need leave. He had pulled out of your cunt with a groan, his cock twitched from the cold ajr hitting the leaky tip. He looked down at your pussy squeezing around nothing, god you were so fucking needy and that made him go feral. He could practically smell the delicious scent you released. Your tail twitched fastly, catching his attention. He had asked you before questions about your body and if anything felt different, he hadn't asked about your tails however, he was curious if it was sensitive. Out of pure curiosity he pushed his thick cock back inside of you, and yanked at your tails, his tight grip on your ears never leaving.

He used them to bring you back more into him. You let out a high pitched moan as your arms gave out, your body felt like it was on fire, throwing your ass back against him while your thighs burned from the work.

“fu— m'cum— cumming!!“

You couldn't control it, it just ripped out of you. The feeling was far too strong to hold back or even pretend not to acknowledge you groaned while sobbing, tears falling from your face due to the extra stimulation. He cooed in your ear, coaxing you through your orgasm while never letting you in the way he fiddled with your tail, his other hand leaving your floppy ears to go to your clit, rubbing it slowly while speeding up his hips.

"nngh~ izu— Izu-"

You couldn't speak from the immense pleasure, it began to hurt due to overstimulation. You sobbed and hiccupped against the pillows as he drilled his cock into you, he groaned and grunted behind you moans leaving his lips as well.

"shit...- fuck— god dammit, u/n I'm gonna cu- cum again.. shit take it, fucking take it all.."

Again?! He'd already came?? Maybe that's why you thought about his warm cum spreading and claiming every spot inside of you. Because he already did.

You couldn't move or even speak, the way he bucked his hips into yours, stuttering and rhythm becoming uneven. He threw his head back with a moan as he came again, tears welling at the corner of his eyes. He felt so good, your fluttering walks squeezing and convulsing around his soft turning cock.

He collapsed beside you without a word. His eyes closed as he tried to steady his breaths, he hasn't felt this good in so long, it's been a while since he'd last been with anyone. He took pride in his job, he'd wanted to be a hero since he was a kid, however it did take him away from a lot of things, including interacting with people and making new friends.

He needed this and he's glad you gave It to him. He turned to check on you to see you had already passed out, he rubbed your back lightly making you shiver underneath his touch. He got up to assure you were alright, making sure you water was refilled and that you could be clean, he grabbed a warm damp towel to clean you but before he did he got a good look at the two loads that were fucked into you, slowly oozing from your still convulsing lips. Fuck this was a sight to see, he was afraid he'd never get to see it again. He hates what he did but, he had to save this moment forever! A picture to remember this morning by! After all, you won't be a bunny forever.

AN: this was very fun to write actually, I've recently been in a chokehold w top!izuku there's something ab him being mean or js taking care of me that gets to me.

Dividers by @anitalenia

[earthtooz]

fluff with a lot of angst, reader is injured and in hospital for one scene but it's not graphic, lovesick!bakugou

during the many years you’ve loved bakugou katsuki, you have only seen him cry three times.

the first time, you were alarmed. where you fell asleep on the couch awaiting your boyfriend’s return, you did not expect to wake up to the sound of sniffles and the sight of drying tears.

“katsuki? what’s the matter?” you asked cautiously, immediately sitting up to wipe his tears away.

your touch, like a healing balm to the blond, lets you treat him like glass when both of you know he is nothing akin to fragile.

“‘s nothin’,” he gruffly huffs, voice cracking a little.

“if you say so,” you murmur skeptically, knowing better than to prod when it’s bakugou involved.

“were ya waitin’ for me?”

you nod. “i thought we could eat together but- what time is it?”

“almost nine.”

“oh. i thought we could eat dinner together but your patrol must have ended a lot later.”

his heart aches pitifully, worsening when he watches you rub the sleep out of your eyes. “‘m sorry, i didn’t mean to come home so late.”

“it’s okay, i get it.”

“we can still eat together, if that’s okay,” he grumbles, looking away bashfully and missing the way your face brightens.

“that sounds lovely, i’ll go heat up dinner-“

“-no, i’ll do it. it’s my fault for coming home later, i’ll call you when it's done.”

bakugou is out of your sight before you can argue any further. as you watch your boyfriend disappear, you’re left pondering on the couch as to why he was acting so uncharacteristically. did he have a bad day? did something happen at work? was he unable to save someone? that’s can't be the reason, he always-

“dinner’s done!” your boyfriend calls from the kitchen, disrupting your thoughts.

when you asked, it didn't sound like he had a terrible day, in fact it sounds like he had a successful patrol, but you cannot fathom any other reason for his melancholy, but if he’s forgotten about it, then you will too.

but... bakugou doesn’t forget. he still remembers when midoriya first alluded to the inheritance of his quirk from all might, he remembers the night vision goggles kirishima broke when trying to save him that one time, he remembers your favourite things and what makes you happy; he remembers everything.

and he’ll never forget that the tears he shed tonight were over the fact that bakugou will never get to show you how much he loves you.

bakugou katsuki, for the first time, realised just how painfully human he is.

he has a heart that beats for you, limbs that longingly ache to be near you whenever he’s not, a mind devoted to you and a cursed mouth so incapable of expressing it all.

if he could, he would wrestle the night sky to give its stars to you instead because you love stars. you love the stupid things in life that bakugou can't give. he can’t give you everything you could ever want and with that realisation, bakugou discovered just how beatable he was.

you may never know the multitude of bakugou’s love for you, and that fact alone brings him to tears as he gazed upon your sleeping figure on the couch, resting peacefully until his arrival.

the second time, you wake up confused.

the lights in the room are dim, there's a machine beeping intermittently and you think it's a heartbeat monitor but you don't really think too hard about it because your body hurts.

you have to blink a few times to get the blurriness out of your eyes, but you eventually comprehend the sterile walls of a hospital room. then the memories come back one by one, a patrol gone awry, evacuating citizens and... ah, being slammed into a wall back-first by the villain. explains the pain.

then you register the looming figure beside your bed, a pair of widened vermillion eyes gazing into your own with untameable blond hair to match, you can't help the smile from spreading on your face when you see your lover.

"hey," you cough weakly, throat dry and scratchy from lack of use.

next thing you know, bakugou's bulky figure is draped over yours, forehead resting on your chest as his arms gently snake around your torso, bringing you into his chest and pressing himself firmly against you.

you feel him; his relief, his sorrow, his devotion, his painful sobs as he shakes against you and it kills you that the only thing you have the strength to do is run a hand through his hair. you want to kiss him, to tell him that it's okay and that there's nothing to cry about, that you're here and nothing will change that, but you're so very sore and barely in tact.

"don't do this shit again," he threatens weakly and you feel his tears seep through your hospital gown. "you had me so fuckin' worried, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, i can't believe you'd do this to me, do you know how much it sucked to be without you?"

"sorry, katsuki," you whisper and he looks up at you, glossy eyes and quivering lip.

"promise me you'll never do this again."

cupping his cheeks with your hands, there's a rush of deja vu as your thumbs catch his tears. "i don't know how realistic that promise is given that this is my job-"

"-your job is to save lives, not go crashin' into buildings, idiot."

you laugh gently, a stabbing pain making itself known in your gut when you do. your wince doesn't go unnoticed by bakugou, who knows you better than the back of his hand and his heart lurches at the slightest evidence that you're in pain. "still, i won't make promises i can't keep, you know how our jobs are, katsuki."

he frowns, furrowing his brows. "then i'll promise to always be there for you. don't go where i can't."

"that's not realistic."

"watch me."

"okay then, deal."

there are questions you still want answers to, but for now, you'll let the blond continue crying with his ear pressed against your chest.

(you won't ever know about the few days bakugou has spent in your hospital ward, absolutely miserable as he looks upon your gaze with anticipation. he hates how helpless he is, that he can't do anything to rid of this horrible feeling in his chest but wait for you to wake up. he hates that he can't any semblance of peace, he hates the man that love has made him, but most importantly, he hates being without you.

you won't ever know the struggle it was to get bakugou out of your room for even just an hour. midoriya and kirishima had to wrestle him in hopes of getting some proper food together, and yaomomo and todoroki had to literally block the door with various items to prevent his entrance.

you won't ever know how alienated bakugou felt, unable to face your shared home without you in it. without your music playing, without your shoes messily thrown at the genkan, without your comforting presence to return to when all is said and done, there isn't much of a home for bakugou.

you won't ever know how desperately bakugou clung to your hand, fiddling with it whenever he needed a safe haven.

you won't ever know the amount of tears the blond had shed by your side, hunched over your bed, with nothing and no one to comfort him but the sound of the heartbeat monitor.)

the third time, you cry too.

it's your wedding day.

when the news first came out, japan practically roared with excitement and anticipation for the special day that their two favourite heroes would wed. the enthusiasm has not dimmed down even months later, and now, as you're one door away from your lover, you feel it buzzing in your bones.

it all goes by in a blur. one second you're about to trip over yourself in nervousness and the next, you're walking down the aisle with a stunned bakugou failing to keep his composure at the altar. despite the amount of close friends and family around you, all you can see is the love of your life who looks at you with unmatched adoration and affection in those ruby irises of his.

up close, however, all you can see are the tears forming in his eyes, and his first sniffle takes everyone in the room by surprise. no doubt, this is their first and last time seeing their beloved hero cry.

more tears are shed and then, it's just waterworks from practically everyone in the room as bakugou breaks down even more.

thank goodness for a private wedding because you know he is never going to live it down if the press got their hands on this image.

a close friend of yours hands you a handkerchief and you wipe away bakugou's tears with a teasing smile, unable to keep your wobbly laughter at bay as your lover- japan's symbol of victory and heroism, turns to nothing but putty in your hands. he lets you treat him so delicately because you've seen him at his lowest, most shaken, and most unlovable, yet still decided to stay.

"sorry," he apologises as you dab at his tears, words reserved for you and you alone. "you're just so... divine. i can't believe i'm marryin' you."

you feel your first tear roll down your cheek and bakugou catches it before it can go too far, wiping it away.

"such an embarrassin' way to start our wedding," he grumbles.

"embarrassing for the both of us, but memorable no doubt," you try to reason.

"everything is memorable as long as i'm with you."

"such a sap," you whack his shoulder lightly. "have you been saving that line for today specifically?"

"you should wait til the vows. bet mine are better than yours."

"i didn't know you could be a poet."

"only for you."

"well then, i can't wait to find out what else you are, katsuki."

"i'll always be yours."

you laugh, "i'm glad to hear that 'cause i love you."

"i love you even more, i'm crying just to prove it."

"your tears are dangerous."

"yeah well, you're marryin' these tears so."

"like i said, i can't wait."

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[inconveniently-discorporated]

I think I have a potentially controversial opinion on Aziraphale and the ending.

So one of the things that made me smile so, SO much, was THIS:

That PURE ABSOLUTE UTTER JOY.

We have not seen ANYTHING like that from demon Crowley. We've seen him be drunk and silly, we've seen him be amused, but we've not seen this.

Now, let's consider what we know about Heaven:

It's never fully populated. ALL of the shots are completely devoid of angels, except for a few, who are almost always just getting somewhere and never really talking to each other.

Where I thought the archangels were a tight clan, it really looks like they're super catty and prone to jealousy. No doubt they would stab each other in the back happily if it came down to it. How much of Heaven is like that, if even the archangels all hate each other?

Aziraphale already has a nervous disposition when he meets Crowley. Is he perhaps an angel that NEVER fit in? Is he familiar with being ostracized by his peers? Just how lonely IS Heaven? Crowley seems to be a pretty powerful angel, and HE doesn't even know that it's all getting shut down in 6000 years -- it's like no one talks to anyone.

Aziraphale, during their whole meeting, looks absolutely smitten. At one point, Crowley goes, "Look at you! You're gorgeous!" and Aziraphale looks over with happy surprise, just before realizing he's not looking at him but rather at what he's created. And then, when Crowley starts going on about making suggestions and asking questions, Aziraphale is IMMEDIATELY concerned and doesn't want him to get into trouble.

Aziraphale is hooked on this angel, and I cannot help but think that this is perhaps the first angel who has ever WELCOMED Aziraphale into his company.

He is hooked on this angel, and the way Crowley smiles is with the light of all the stars he's just created, and it's infectious and it brings a smile to Aziraphale's face as well. And then this angel shields him from the oncoming falling stars.

He is hooked on this angel, and then this angel goes and joins the Great Rebellion, and becomes fallen himself.

"You were an angel once," Aziraphale said, softly, at the bandstand. He remembers.

I think it's reasonable to guess that Heaven has never felt so warm as it did in the presence of millions of exploding stars, next to the (arch?)angel that may perhaps be one of the few (only?) to pay him any positive attention.

I think it's reasonable to assume that Heaven was not the same after Crowley fell. I wouldn't be surprised to find out Aziraphale had wondered about the angel, wondered if he was okay. I would imagine that Aziraphale keeps that picture of pure, angelic, unbridled joy somewhere inside of him.

So, really, is it any surprise that threaded throughout EVERY interaction, Aziraphale has this deep-down feeling that Crowley is good? Would it be any surprise that Aziraphale, an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can (which isn't always), feels that if HE is still an angel, then what was done to Crowley was a great injustice?

I think it would make sense that we are shown "before the beginning" not just because it is fun, but because THIS is the foundational context for everything Aziraphale thinks Crowley is, everything Crowley enjoys. I think he remembers this moment and wishes he could live there forever. With Crowley. The two of them with this happiness, forever.

But nothing lasts forever, as much as he wishes it did.

I'm not saying Aziraphale was right with what he did to Crowley at the end of s2. There is a lot I think he did wrong. I think he held onto this picture so tightly, he didn't realize that Crowley had long since let it go, and painted a new one with Aziraphale with all the shades of grey he picked up as he sauntered (or plummeted) vaguely downward (into a pool of boiling sulfur).

I don't think he was right, but I do think he is understandable. I think there was a lot of selfishness, but also some misguided selflessness too. I watched that first scene with angelic Crowley and my heart actually broke a little, because I thought, "What a shame this joy was taken away from him."

I think Aziraphale is trying to right the injustice he feels has been done. But I also think Aziraphale doesn't realize that Crowley can never go back. The concept of falling never crossed Crowley's mind when he suggested that he ask a few questions, and he will NEVER get that kind of innocence back. And Aziraphale doesn't understand, because Heaven has clearly always just been that way for him (he is already aware of the danger of asking questions).

Crowley does not want to go back because he can never go back. He can never be the same angel he was when he thought he could build a universal machine that would crank out stars for eons and eons. He can never be the same angel he was when he thought he could make some suggestions and ask some questions and co-create with THE Creator.

Crowley understands that, and Aziraphale doesn't. But I can understand why Aziraphale would want to try. And I think it's all because of this:

[0omillo0]

Calling you clingy

Felix x reader (they / them) angst -> comfort

Felix walked into his apartment, his body aching from the long day. The weight of rehearsals, vocal practice, and back-to-back meetings bore down on him, and all he wanted was a moment to himself. Dropping his bag by the door, he toed off his shoes and let out a quiet sigh.

“Felix?”

Your soft voice caught his attention, and he turned to see you sitting on the couch. You had a blanket draped over your lap and a bright, hopeful expression on your face.

“Hey,” you greeted, standing up to approach him. “I thought I’d surprise you. You’ve been so busy, and I figured you’d need some company.”

Felix blinked, his expression unreadable. “Oh… yeah, I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to sound polite despite his exhaustion. “It’s just, I didn’t know you were coming.”

You faltered slightly at his tone but quickly recovered. “I didn’t mean to intrude or anything! I just missed you.” You reached out to brush his arm, offering him a small, reassuring smile. “Let me grab you something to eat or drink—”

“Y/N, wait,” Felix said quickly, stepping out of your reach. “I’m fine. You don’t have to fuss over me, really.”

You paused, confusion flickering in your eyes. “It’s not a fuss. I just want to help. You’ve been so—”

“Can we not do this right now?” he interrupted gently, his voice strained. “I just got home, and I’m tired. Maybe we can… talk later?”

You blinked, his words sinking in. “Oh. Right. I get it,” you murmured, nodding. But then, despite yourself, you reached out for him again, gently tugging at his sleeve. “But Felix, you’ve been so distant lately, and I just thought—”

“Oh my— why are you so clingy all the time? You weren’t like this when we first met— Ugh..”

The words burst out of him before he could stop them, sharp and unfiltered. Felix immediately regretted it, but the damage had already been done.

Your hand dropped from his sleeve as if you’d been burned, and your face fell.

“I’m… sorry,” you said quietly, taking a step back. “I just wanted to be here for you.”

Forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes, you said “I’ll leave. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

You grabbed your bag from the couch and walked past him before he could say another word. The sound of the door closing echoed in the silence, and Felix stood there frozen, guilt already settling in his chest like a heavy weight.

Hours passed, but Felix couldn’t stop replaying the scene in his head. He sat at the edge of his bed, staring at his phone. He had texted you a few times, but you hadn’t replied.

Felix: Love.. I’m sorry

Felix: Please answer me when you can, I love you

Felix: 🩵

Felix: Goodnight, I’m sorry

Still no answer.

It wasn’t until the next day, during practice, that he couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“Hey,” Hyunjin said, watching Felix fumble a move he’d done perfectly a hundred times before. “What’s up with you? You’ve been out of it all day.”

Felix sighed, dropping onto the floor. “I said something dumb to Y/N last night.”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Dumb, like ‘oops,’ or dumb, like you really messed up?”

Felix groaned. “I called them clingy.”

“Yikes.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Felix said quickly, frustration evident in his tone. “I was just tired, and I snapped, and now… they’re not answering me.”

Hyunjin sat down next to him, studying him for a moment. “Why do you think they’re clingy?”

Felix frowned. “I don’t know. They’re always around, always texting or checking in. It’s not bad, but sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe.”

Hyunjin tilted his head thoughtfully. “You ever think there’s a reason they’re like that? Maybe they’re scared you’ll disappear if they’re not around enough.”

Felix blinked, the words hitting him hard. “What? That doesn’t make sense. Why would they think that?”

“Think about it,” Hyunjin said softly. “You’re busy all the time, and they probably feel like they’re competing with your schedule. They might be trying so hard because they’re afraid they’re not enough.”

Felix stared at the ground, Hyunjin’s words sinking in.

That evening, Felix showed up at your apartment, his nerves eating away at him. He knocked softly, shifting from foot to foot until you finally opened the door.

“Felix?” you asked, surprised. Your expression was cautious, your body language hesitant.

“Can I come in?” he asked quietly.

You hesitated but stepped aside, letting him in. Felix glanced around the room, taking in the untouched cup of tea on the coffee table and the blanket you’d clearly been curled up under.

“I’m sorry,” he said, turning to face you. “For last night. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

You crossed your arms, clearly trying to keep your emotions in check. “It’s fine. You don’t have to explain.”

“No, it’s not fine,” Felix insisted, his voice firm. “I hurt you, and I need to make it right.” He stepped closer, his gaze earnest. “I didn’t mean it. You’re not clingy, Y/N. I just…” He sighed. “I didn’t understand why you do the things you do.”

You looked away, swallowing hard. “And now you do?”

“I think so,” he said softly. “You don’t act like that because you’re trying to smother me. You’re scared. Right?”

Your breath hitched, and you felt your composure cracking. “Why does it matter? You clearly don’t want me around as much as I want to be there. So what’s the point?”

Felix’s heart clenched. He reached out, gently cupping your face and forcing you to meet his eyes.

“Y/N, the point is that I love you,” he said, his voice trembling. “And I never want you to feel like you have to fight for my attention. You don’t have to try so hard. You’re already enough. More than enough.”

Your tears spilled over, and Felix wiped them away with his thumbs. “But I don’t know how to love you without feeling like I’m not good enough,” you whispered.

Felix pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. “You don’t have to be anything other than yourself. I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t wanted. That’s on me, not you.”

You clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt. “I just… I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” Felix promised, his voice thick with emotion. “We’ll figure this out together, okay? I’ll do better. I’ll show you how much you mean to me.”

For the first time in days, you felt like a weight had been lifted from your chest. Felix wasn’t perfect, and neither were you, but in that moment, you knew you’d work through it—together.

tags: @intartaruginha @hannamoon143 @inlovewithstraykids @whoa-jo @madirye062 @vixensss @emilyywhyy @halfwinterhalfuniverse @sseawavee @velvetmoonlght