#to lay on it on a early spring day

[wormsdyke]

good god i need to see snow again. there used to be snow here. how am i supposed to be this specific subset of emo when i can’t collapse into the snow and stare into the winter sky and wish it all away. how am i supposed to have my charlie kelmeckis perks of being a wallflower moment without the snow to encase me while i have a severe shutdown

[milo-is-rambling]

Chronic pain really got me going to bed before it’s even dark out (also my little pink unicorn lights Millie got me look so cool in the second pic)

[nkogneatho]

— 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖, 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐍

—characters: gojo, toji, geto, sukuna, nanami, choso

—cw: lactation ofc, fem!reader, nicknames, aphrodisiac (the milk), intoxication, masturbation, semi-public, dry humping.

—a/n: i have officially surprised myself with how insane i can really be. ya gurl so thirsty she created her own universe where men gib milkies 🧍🏽‍♀️

introduction to the universe:

Evolution took place a little differently in this universe. A mutation caused hormonal presence that triggers monthly lactation in men for 3 to 5 days, and it usually starts in their early 20s. It is studied that it does not serve any purpose of feeding like female lactation, but might be an indicator to arousal, and even a mating call due to accurate findings of natural aphrodisiacs in the milk produced by the thin gland located in a breast. It also pains a lot and causes swelling of nipples. While scientific advancements have yet to develop a pill that might solve this problem, the most effective natural method to be proven is letting another person suck it.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

It had been quite a long day at work. You knew you were the last to arrive home when you found his boots messed on the floor.

“Toru?” You called out his name, failed to receive a response. “Toru, baby, ' m home.” The wooden door of the shoe cabinet creaked as you closed it after placing the footwear in their place.

The house smelled…sweeter, felt warmer than usual. Making your way to the bedroom, you found clothes scattered on the floor near the entrance. The door was ajar which means your eyes had quick access to what was happening.

“Fuck! Ah! Ah! Mhmm.” You watched in surprise as your boyfriend kept fisting his cock, but wait. Something was different. You moved closer and found his hands squeezing his tits, milk oozing and drenching his naked body. But his heat doesn't arrive until next week. You thought. It was not uncommon for heats to arrive irregularly. It only meant that his hormone level had increased due to sexual frustration. Your eyes scanned his position, his movements. A hand reaching down to rub the wetness forming between your legs. You couldn't take it anymore.

“Need a hand?” You asked, announcing yourself in the room to let the man know he wasn't alone.

“Oh fuck! I thought I locked the door,” he panicked, yet he didn't remove his from his cock, just another arm covering his chest.

“And deprive me of this treat? I don't think so, baby.” You walked closer until you were hovering over him, kissing softly. Heat always has Satoru acting needy and you knew it.

“Touch me, doll. Please.” You smiled at his eagerness.

“I will do more than just touch.” Slapping his wrist away that were blocking the view of his lovely tits, you pushed him until he was laying flat. Your clothed pussy grinding in his naked cock as you leaned and took one of his nipples in your mouth.

“F-fuck.” he stuttered. “Don't. I am early this month. The flow is too much—ngh—you'll get high.” As if that was going to stop you? You started sucking more aggressively. He was right. The flow really was too much because you found yourself gulping a mouthful of his sweet milk, as your other hand reached down jerked his cock.

“Baby…ah! Keep doing that. I am close.” He is so silly to think he can relieve himself on his own when it never works. “Holy fhhuuck! Gonna c—aahhh!” You watched as he arched his back, white spurts covering your hands and other white liquid wetting your jaw. You sat up, removing your top as you already felt dizzy.

“We're not done, Toru. Wan'you to fuck me nasty while I suck your milk.” And he was hard again at your words.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

You loved spring. It was your favorite season to go out. Not too cold. Not too hot. Just the perfect amount of wind and sun. Apparently, it is also a perfect season for outdoor dates. You and Toji preferred to stay in most of the time but the cherry blossoms were too precious to be enjoyed from your windows or TV screen.

“Toji, you ready?” you asked your husband, packing things in your cute pink purse.

“Uhm, princess? Think we might need to cancel the date.” His muffled voice emerged through the bedroom.

“What?” You yelled as you stomped to the bedroom. “What do you mean we might need to c—oh…" Your legs stopped, body taken aback as you stared at his shirtless body, tone muscles and triceps flexing as he squeezed his tits, squirting the milk out.

“I am over-lactating.”

“What happened to the breast cups?”

“Look at me princess. 'm leaking too much. They ain't gon' hold it. Agh fuck!” He spat angrily as you watched the milk travel down his abs, covering it in sweetness.

“Fuck the date. I have a better plan.” You winked at him.

“Shit. Calm down, ma—ugh. Y'er gonna bruise my tits." You were riding his cock, rocking your body back and forth on his crotch while sucking his swollen dark peachy nipples. Your hands struggled to hold his chest because they were bigger than it, causing your nails to dig into the skin.

“Mmh lvove yvour mwilk shwo mwuch.” Your dirty muffled comments vibrating on his skin.

“Y'er drunk, ma. Ya like to get drunk on daddy's milk, hmm?” He cooed, planting a spank on your ass.

“Lwove it.”

“Hm mhh,” he chuckled. “Nasty fucking girl. Move—ahh! Move faster. Need to cum.” You followed his orders, not looking up once to meet his eyes but busy soaking in the drug and flavor of his milk.

“Ngh—twoji, too much. Wan' a break.” You complained, but he was not going to let you stop. This was your plan after all.

“Nuh uh! Don't pull that now.” He grabbed your ass and started bouncing them up and down. You felt so insides bursting with pleasure, cheeks burning up, eyes rolling back. “Gonna cum, ma. Make sure this pussy drinks all my cum as you stuff your mouth with my milk—gahh! fhuck fhuck! fuuuuck!” He was talking as if you had a choice when one of his hand forced you down on his cock as he painted your hole in his cum, while the other hand pushed your face further against his tits. He watched as milk overflowed from the side of your lips. “Such a good girl f'me. You wan' more?”

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

Sukuna tend to get a bit crazier when he was in heat. He fucked you with more strength, came a lot more than usual. It was hard to keep his mood balanced. You tried to suggest him some diet during those days of the month, but he refused to eat greens. A big man like him fancies flesh. Furthermore, why does he need a diet when he has the most proven effective method?

“K-kuna…agh! Too biiig." You cried. Sukuna had you on top of him, his big body splayed on the king-size bed—that surprisingly was almost the same size as him—your thighs trembling, kneecaps digging the mattress as you struggled to keep hi dick inside. Your head was telling you to get off it. Yet, your tight little cunt craved more of him.

“Hmm,” he chuckled. “Your pussy has a habit of biting more than she can swallow.” His teases were humiliating. Your hands rested on his chest, tongue reminiscing the sweet taste of his milk. Even though you were not completely dominant in this relationship—it is hard to be one when you are dating a man like sukuna—there were times when you initiated the things he would usually pester you about. Your lustful eyes gave him a look he hadn't seen before. Soon, he felt your hands tightening around his tits. Now he knew what you were up to.

“Want a taste, my woman?” All you could do was give a light nod because most of your strength was busy rolling your waist on his cock. “Go ahead. Suck my milk out.”

Without a second thought, you found your lips kissing his puffy pink nipples. You could feel the veins throbbing as you were suckling his juice out. Sukuna's milk was sweet with a hint of tanginess. Nevertheless, you loved it.

“Shhit! Calm down woman. I am not going anywhere.” His words were just background noise to you because all you could hear is squelching of your pussy and your slurps on his tiddie.

“Mmghh! Don't tell me you're planning on getting drunk.” His shoulders adjusted themselves to get a better position. “If you are—fuck. Then don't expect me to go easy tonight.” You unlatched your mouth from him for what seemed like after fifteen minutes to finally speak.

“Want you to ruin my pussy, kuna. Mmh,” you jerked your hips forward. “Want you to fill my mouth with milk as you do it.”

“Get off.” His tone shifted from somewhat sweet to serious. You followed his orders anyway. You both exchanged positions so now he was on top of you.

“My dirty human. Better stick to your words, darling. I am not planning on stopping until you're drenched in my cum and my milk”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

You always knew Suguru's heat cycle. As the days approached closer, he used to become more and more whiny and clingy, arguing with you over petty things. His behavior did a 180° on these days.

Earlier today, you had a discourse over chores. He nagged at how you should keep things in place, or you won't find them when you need it. You understood where he was coming from, but the work had taken quite a toll on you that you barely had energy tonight. He just wouldn't let it go, and you grew more frustrated. You yanked him by his wrist, dragging his giant, muscular body to the shower. And here you were, stroking him off as you nibbled, and suckled on his tits. The continuous pour of warm water stimulating both of you.

“This is what you wanted, right, sugu?” you looked up, chin nuzzling in his cleavage. “Nagging me the whole day. You just wanted your tits sucked.” His brows scrunched together. A large hand approached your face, cupping your cheeks. He had his fingers digging the muscle on your face until they squished together.

“Behave,” his voice stern. “Just 'cause 'm in heat doesn't mean you hold the upper hand, baby.”

“Oh, but I do, Sugu—*spank* Ah! What was that for?”

“For teasing me. I know you love drinking my milk, princess. Get to it 'cause I can't take it nomo.” He pressed your face against one of his boobs, your nose pressured a little above the nipple, forcing the spurts of milk out.

“You gon' let it fall down the drain?” Your immediate action was to cup his tiddy with both of your hands—his chest was too big to use one—massaging all of the juice out. You opened your mouth and let it aim at your tongue.

“Fucking hell! This is why—mmghh easy, princess. 'Tis all sore.”

“I gotchu, sugu.” You eased out the movement of your hands, gently kneading them.

“Fhuuck, yes. Just like that.” Other hand travelled back down, grabbing his throbbing boner, squeezing the base as you squeezed his nipples. Geto planted a kiss on top of your head. “Holy shit. Still can't believe you're mine.” Your lips morphed into a smile, teeth still grasping his nipple. “Look at'cha. My milk's getting your high already.” He picked you up bridal style, your tongue still licking his puffed chest, as he kicked the bathroom door open that lead to your bedroom. “You got your treat. Time f'me to get mine, princess.”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

Working 9to5, staring all day at a computer screen is what your life had been all about. You switched companies to think you might get something new to do, but to no one's surprise, it was the same. Except, this one man you were crushing on since day one.

Nanami Kento was a gentleman they described in those fairytales. Always so respectful, kind and damn he was a big feminist. Although, with him being the perfect husband material, you were still never going to cross the line because you were co-workers. That didn't mean you weren't allowed to crush.

“And then Mr. Sasaki from HR department knocked the beer over,” your TL chattered. Nanami wasn't the one to gossip, but Sakurako-san was your team leader and older than everyone. She wasn't a bad person but oh boy did she love tea. You fake gasped to give her the reaction she wanted, as you side-eyed Kento who looked a bit uncomfortable.

“Then he had the audacity to—”

“Excuse me,” Nanami withdrew halfway from the conversation he wasn't even participating in much, walking away abruptly.

After a few minutes, you decided to look for him to make sure he was alright. Of course, as a co-worker, you should. Nothing related to the heart eyes you give him, right?

You stomped towards the corridor almost making a left until you heard loud coughs reverberating through the walls of the men's washroom. You swore it was him. Furthermore, you shouldn't have gone in. What were you thinking? It was a men's washroom, for fuck's sake. But what if something happened to him? Sure.

Pushing the door in a hurry, you entered, almost tripping. “Nanami-san—” You did not whether you should be embarrassed, shocked or horrified. Maybe all three.

“Are you okay?”

“You shouldn't be here, l/n-san.” True. But seeing him squeeze his tits, and milking himself down the drain was the sight you were blessed to see. You locked the door behind, the clicking of the latch making Nanami hold his breath, “What are you doing?”

“You're going to let all that milk go to waste, Kento?” His dick twitched. You never called him by his first name, and now you were asking inappropriate questions along with calling him Kento.

“L/N-san, this isn't right—”

“Shhh. Just wanna help you. We're colleagues, aren't we?” He nodded.

Without breaking any eye contact you hopped on the counter, hands reaching for his nipples glistening with milk under the off-white light. You pressed your palm against his chest, feeling the liquid staining it, only starting to cramming the swell more. Kento lost his composure, hands falling flat on the counter, head on your shoulders. Couple of shaky breaths, fading soft moans leaving his lips. Pushing him back for a second to only latch your tongue on the dark pink bud, you were sure you're way past the appropriate relationship of just work buddies.

“L/n—ah! Can I?” He darted his eyes down where the tent peeked out his gray formal pants. You smiled. Knowing he needed friction, you adjusted your pencil skirt, and wrapped your legs around him, boner pressed against wet patch on your panties. Nanami felt like he was in heaven. He started humping against your clothed pussy, being rough contradictory to his gentle innocent touches to you before. But it was only reasonable given the fact that he was in heat.

He never knew the feeling of being milked from both ends, but now when he came, he ruined his whole expensive suit. The edges of the mustard yellow shirt becoming translucent with his milk, with a dark spot on his pants between his legs. He let out a shaky breath, apologizing as he slowly came back to his senses.

“What are you apologizing for? I started it,” you said as you hopped off the countertop. “Let me know if you ever need more help, Nanami-san.” A wink from is what caused his cheeks to turn red. “I'll bring you spare clothes from your desk.”

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

Most lactation in men started in their early twenties. Although, it wasn't unusual for some to start late. There was nothing medically wrong with them. But you've heard things about. How much more it hurts, and how more they leak on their first heat if they do get late.

You've been dating your boyfriend Choso for almost a year now. He hadn't start lactating yet, which is why you researched enough on this topic just in case. Personally, you've never been physical with men when they're in heat. Not because it is not your thing, but your relationships were too short to actually be comfortable in experiencing it. Of course, you would never do anything with Choso at his displeasure just because you wanna try it. You love him too much. But the thought would never leave your mind. What would he act like in his heat? Well, it was your lucky day. Because you came home to a whining lactating man.

“Cho…baby, are you okay?” You rushed to him in concern. Choso was on the bed, hair down with tears in his eyes as he pressed his chest together.

“Babyyy, It hurts. I don't know what is happening.” His hold on your wrist a little too tight. “Fuck. It hurts so bad. Make it stop. Leaking too much and my cock hurts too.” You could hear—feel the desperation in his voice. His cock was on full display as his boxers dangled near his ankles. The swollen tip shining with pre-cum seducing your mouth. But your mouth was needed more elsewhere. You remembered your first sex education class, how men in heat can be relieved if you milk and suck their tits. You discarded your clothes, getting bare and settling on his lap. Your hole rubbing against the body of his shaft as you pressed your tits against his, kissing his forehead.

“Cho shhh. Baby you're fine. You're just in heat. 's gonna be alright. 'm here, okay?” He sniffled as you pampered him. “Gonna take good care of my boyfie.” You left a trail of lipstick stains as you kissed his body, slowly trailing towards the puffy nipples. You looked up at him for consent, only to continue when he whispered a “please”. With your tongue darting out, you soaked in the view before licking a stripe.

“Shit,” Choso cursed. You do it a few more times until you're finally sucking on it like a popsicle. “Fuck. Ah!” It was indeed too much because with only fifteen seconds in, your mouth was already full of his milk, leaking from the corner of your lips. It wasn't a normal amount. But given the fact that it was his first, that too at this age, you brushed it off, focusing back to sucking. You gulped the milk, each sip making you dizzy. It made you grind harder against his cock, moaning along with him. His whimpers making you wet, and his dick enjoying your slippery pussy.

“Wanna cum. Please. Wanna cum, baby.” He begged and you started fastening your pace. The sheets were wet, along with your neck and tits as he shot spurts of sweet milk in your mouth that dripped down your body. Some of it sneaking its way down between his dick and your cunt. You held on to his shoulder, giving his chest a few slaps, making him rut harder against you that the bed started creaking.

“Cumming. Fuck, I am cumming. Ah! Ah! Ah! Ngh—holy fuuuuck!” Your own orgasming cunt could feel his dick twitch as it shot a load out. His hardened nipples turning soft. He immediately cupped your cheeks, pulling you up. “I love you so much, fuck. Thank you.” He said before he kissed you, his tongue lapping against yours, tasting himself on you.

@kiffenisstupid @pastelle-rabbit @lxnarphase @teddybeartoji @rizzmin @yuta-nation @evxelisy @hellkaiserinphoenix @ffsg0jo @princessoflalaland @baekinola @chuuyasboots @cathybarn @togamest @katsukichu @blkkizzat

[a-silent-observer]

Metaphorical equivalent of touching grass achieved.

[seungfl0wer]

*𝙈𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨*

Pairing: Bangchan x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warning: Dom!Chan, Breeding Kink, Talks about pregnancy, Creampie, Unprotected sex, Choking, Face fucking, Oral (Both), Degrading, Pussy/Tit Slaps, Multiple rounds, Multiple orgasms (Both), Overstimation(Both), Hickeys, Back Scratching. I think that’s all? Mostly proofread. Oh oh daddy used

A/N: This was requested some good “hardcore sex” with Chan lol. I enjoyed this way to much and fuck- do I love it. Side note I didn’t know what to title this so-

-🖤

Chan had just came back from tour a few days ago. Although He hasn’t had a day off yet until today happily. He spent all night cuddled up to you knowing he wouldn’t have to let go to leave early. He had his big warm hands around your waist keeping you close to him, head nuzzled into your back. He missed you so fucking much, just to hold you like this made his heart so happy.

You started to move a bit pushing your body back into his, grinding your ass into his clothed cock. “Pretty girl, don’t tease me now” he said softly against your ear, His voice sweet like honey. You tried your best not to giggle but it slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You kept moving your hips back into him his hands squeezing against your soft curves. “You better stop before you start something that you can’t finish” he said nipping at your neck.

You grinned you knew he’d punish you if you kept teasing however you weren’t expecting it to rile him up as much as it did. He let his hands wonder up your body, soft fingers slinked their way around your neck. He turned your head to him slightly applying pressure to your pressure points. “You really think it’s a good idea to do this when I haven’t seen you for 2 months?” He said as he kissed your parted lips biting your bottom lip. “Or do you need to be retrained to be my good little whore again?”

Your eyes half opened looking at him. Fuck. He already had you such a mess and he hasn’t even done anything. “I asked you a question.” He said with a hard smack to your ass. “N-no- I’m sorry daddy” you stuttered out. He raised an eyebrow “you sure? It seems like you do” he said his hand coming down to pull your panties down. He chuckled at how wet you were already his fingers slightly brushed up your slick folds. You let out a whisper of a moan barely being audible before he pulled away from you.

“On your Back” He said as he pulled down his boxers letting his hard cock spring out of them. No matter how long you’ve been together you’re always still in awe at how good looking he is. His toned stomach, sharp thighs and long thick cock. You quickly turned to your back laying down before he grabbed you pulling your body to the edge, Your head dangling back. You looked up at him with those pretty eyes making him smile “I’ve missed this sweet little fuck toy” he said with a groan. “Open wide” he said tapping the tip of his slightly hard cock to your lips.

He quickly pushed into you his head falling back at the warmth, he didn’t move for a second wanting to take it all in. He groaned a bit louder before pushing deep into your mouth making you gag. He didn’t stop though he leaned down slapping your tits as he fucked into your mouth. His cock hit the whole way back tears pricking at your eyes. Drool pulling at the side of your mouth as you took every inch of him in. He moved his hands from your tits before grazing his fingers against your clit. You let out a muffled moan bucking your hips up to try and meet his hand again. And oh boy did you meet it, he let a slightly hard smack to your cunt. The feeling making your body shutter.

“You’ll get my fingers when I want you to got it? You greedy little whore” he spat. You nodded looking up at him. As he fucked your face he felt his high coming his thrusts became faster as he chased it. His balls smacking against your face as he only slightly almost ghostly touched your cunt. He pushed in one more time before cumming far back in your throat, you tried to move however Chan took his fingers pinching your nose closed “swallow. You don’t get to waste any of it!” He said in almost a growl.

You nodded tears falling down your cheeks as you swallowed around him. Sucking back all his cum the warm thick liquid sliding down your throat. He chuckled pulling his cock out strings of saliva like webbing pulled with it. “Always so messy.” He said before moving his body towards the other side of the bed.

Before your brain could wrap around anything he was kneeling between your legs. No warning before he started sucking harshly at your clit, pushing his fingers deep into you. The sensation making your body arch, you let out a sound that was almost a scream. He chuckled nipping at your clit “gonna have everyone hearing you, everyone’s gonna know how much of a slut you are” he said with a grin. He was bringing you quickly to your orgasm your legs started to shake as they closed around him.

He let a smack to your thigh before pulling them apart “keep them open.” He said in a low voice he nipped harder at your clit pushing another finger into you curling them deep inside you. Your cunt clenched around them taking them so greedily “gon- gonna cum” you managed to get out. He stopped himself completely looking up at you “I don’t think you asked.” He said before letting another nice smack to your pussy. However before you could even reply the smack pushing you over the edge, you came hard around his fingers moaning loudly.

Chan shook his head “what a filthy little slut cumming from a smack? And with out asking? Tsk tsk” he teased. The smirk on his face was pure devilish “let’s see if you can remember to ask for the next one” he said before brutally fingering you. This pace mixed with his tongue had you cumming over and over. His favorite punishment, overstimulation till you’re crying. After the 4th time cumming and screaming his name he finally had enough needing to be inside you.

He sunk into your sopping wet cunt his movement harsh as he bottomed out. His balls smacking against your ass, hands slinking their way up to your tits squeezing them. “My pretty little slut, god I missed being inside you” he said with another squeeze. He left little pinches to your nips as his hips smacked into you. You looked up at him with hazy eyes, you were so cock drunk so fucked out of your mind drool sliding down your cheek. Your cheeks and body flushed pretty shades of pink and red.

He leaned down nipping at your skin before sucking at your collarbone. He left a trail of purple marks up to your neck biting ever so often. Once he got situated in the spot he knew that drove you crazy he bit down. His teeth sinking into you making your body arch nails digging into his skin. “Fuck!” Is all you could muster up. You felt him smirk against your skin, moving toward your ear he nipped at it as well “who’s the only one that can make you feel this good hmm?” He said his breath hot against your ear.

“Y-you. Daddy is” you stuttered out not knowing how you could even speak. “Mm that’s right baby. Daddy’s the only one that knows what this little slutty pussy needs” he said with a low growl. His hand came up gripping around your neck applying pressure almost immediately. “Gonna fucking cum deep in this pussy yeah? Gonna fill you as much as I can so when I go on tour again I’ll come back to you nice and pregnant. Fuck-“ he said his pace speeding up.

“Fuck- baby you’re squeezing me so tight you must like the idea” he said smiling. His free hand coming down to play with your overly sensitive clit. “Gonna be the prettiest mommy out there. Fuck-“ he said hips stuttering as his high washed over him. He came deep into you, you could feel his cock twitching as he spilled out. He moaned loudly as he kept fucking into you. His cock sensitive but fuck did he just wanna keep going. He fucked into you as if he didn’t just cum harder than he has ever before just a few seconds ago.

“Chan! T’much!” You stuttered out. He nodded “yeah? Just one more. Need to fill you up one more time ok? Promise baby just one more you can take one more right?” He babbled his words slurring a bit. “Just- one more” you said breathily. “That’s my good girl, my beautiful girl” he said leaning into a sloppy kiss his hand that was once around your neck going down wrapping around your leg. He pushed as deep as he possibly could, pelvis against pelvis. You let out a muffled scream moving your body away a bit.

“Where do you think you’re going? I’m not fucking done with you yet” he spat yanking your body back to where it once was. He wrapped his strong arms around you. Body’s meshed together as he rutted himself into you. He kept himself buried deep inside you as he chased his high. “Ch-channie- please-“ you didn’t know exactly what you were begging for but he knew. He could feel you clenching around him, your cunt ready for a final release. “Cum for me baby, you’ve made such a pretty mess on my cock- fuck my good little slut” he breathed out. His words were almost non coherent at this point as he babbled.

He sped up his movements on your clit pinching it slightly, your legs shook cumming hard around him. “My good girl fuck such a good girl.” He said his movements now faster trying to reach his high. His fingers never stopping on your clit as he did. “Chan! Chan!” You screamed out feeling like you were gonna explode before he came deep inside you. You could feel all of him twitching in you, feel his balls tightening as they released. Your body shook, and it shook hard. A warmth washing over you both realizing you squirted all over you both. Fluids dripping down mixing with his cum, sweat and drool.

He held onto you tightly as you both were overstimulated and drained. When he was coming back to earth a bit he peppered you with kisses as he sung you praises. “I love you, you did so well.”

A bit later after getting cleaned up, you both were cuddled up in fresh new bedding. “I didn’t go to far did I my love? You sure you’re ok?” He said as he stroked your hair a hint of worry in his voice. You shook your head half open eyes staring up at him “I’m fine channie, I love you so much” you said softly feeling like you could fall asleep at any minute.

“And I love you my beautiful angel. You get some rest yeah? I’ll order some food here in a bit for us when you wake” he said kissing your nose softly. Before you knew it you were passed out, sleepin like a rock.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp

[satorudoll]

Baby Gumi giving Toji the sus look when he saw the love bites on Mommy's chest

Toji forgot his baby has sharp senses for a baby and baby thought Toji ate his food or hurt Mommy lol

(im starting to feel like y'all wanna turn this acc into a toji thirst vault)

Megumi always had a habit of looking up at his dad weird, the two year old boy always found his dad weird.

So he would spend most of his time toddling towards you and taking up any free space that was available next to you.

The baby boy loved to be in your arms very much, therefore everytime he woke up to find you already waiting there for him near his crib with a warm smile he'd try to get up on his small chubby legs holding onto the rail guards of the crib then forward one of his hands to make grabby hands at you.

You spent most of the day holding the baby boy in one arm and doing every other chore in your house while your husband was out for work because Megumi absolutely refused to leave your side unless he was in a deep slumber.

But as much competent the little boy was so was his dad, Megumi enjoyed all his fun time with you until it was time for his dad to come back from work, the two year old will get all pouty and fussy as soon as he'll hear the slamming of the front door and a loud "I'm home!" followed by the literal thudding of his dad's running feet.

The baby boy's brows would knit together and his tiny button nose would scrunch in distaste as soon as his dad would pull you away from his side to engulf you in a hug and lay bunch of his dirty smooches on your face.

ew, Megumi would think.

Megumi always got annoyed at his dad for doing these stuff to his mom, believing his mom was just a very nice lady to not turn his dad down.

The little boy knew his fun time was over as soon as his dad was home. He would toddle out of his room and find you sitting alone in the couch, peacefully watching television, then he would proceed to start running towards you almost tumbling in his steps just so he can climb up and sit down next to you.

But then the tall giant will casually walk in and let his entire body fall down horizontally on the couch, immediately planting his head on your thighs as well, leaving literally no space for Megumi.

The two year old boy would pause in literal disgust and shock,

This would get the two year old so mad that he would get down to pick up his toy spoon from the floor and start smacking it on the old man's head who in return would start yelling in surprise at why his son was being such a brat while you try pulling him away from his dad.

Now Megumi thought he has seen all the worst sides of his dad, until, one morning the baby boy wakes up way too early than usual due to a nightmare. Not finding you besides his crib he immediately manages to crawl up by standing on his little pile of plushies.

Megumi was indeed a smart baby.

Tumbling towards his parent's shared bedroom he could hear some weird noises coming as he got closer,

he was sure most of it were your voices though?

But you sounded like you were in pain??

He slowly opens the door which was already a bit agape,

he really couldn't understand what was going on since he was way too small and his vision could only go up so far.

But then he hears the loud sound of what he considered to be a slap along with the rough angry voice of his dad followed by your sobs,

he cannot believe his dad was hurting you ! Oh he always believed his dad was a mad man,

He was definitely worst than the monsters under his crib !

and that's all it takes for the baby boy's bottom lips to quiver and let the loudest wail out,

He felt like that helped because through his blurry vision he sees his dad immediately spring out of the bed, murmuring a string of what you taught him were "bad words" while fumbling around for something.

Your head pops out of the covers as soon as you were done fixing your night gown but the two year old was way too busy crying and rolling fat drops of tears down his red cheeks to realize that you had taken him in your arms.

"Gumi- baby what's wrong- " you try to rock him in your arms but that didn't seem to be helping,

"you are just like me kid, all grumpy early in the morning" His dad tries casually playing it off after slumping down besides you both,

but the 'just like me' causes the baby's cries to get even worst making you pass your husband a mad glare for saying that,

Toji stares at you both offended.

"I'm sorry, mommy wasn't there this morning- Won't happen again honey! I'll play with you all day today, we wont be able to play if you keep crying!" you smile as he starts to slowly quite down at those words.

"What a good little boy" You praise, slowly caressing his head and moving his little black baby hair away from his forehead.

His pout is still on his face as his vision moves down from your face but then it stops,

while Toji was joking at you about how he deserves the 'good boy' title as well and you were busy brushing him off, you both failed to notice the little boy's growing frown as he stared at all the purple bruises around your neck and collar bones.

He feels his vision start to get blurry again and then its there again,

His mouth opens wide showing off the two new set of teeth as he starts crying bloody murder.

You gasp in panic not understanding what had happened again.

As you tried to rock him again he tried getting away from your arms and instead stretching his hand towards his dad as he continued balling his eyes out.

That confused you and Toji,

He has never chosen Toji before for comfort as long as you were there,

But Toji was a little too happy to care,

"Does my little boy wanna be with daddy??" He coos, stretching his arms out for you to hand the baby to him,

"I knew you always had a soft spot for me kiddo" he gushes as soon as he takes his baby boy in his arms.

But the happiness didn't seem to have lasted long, because as soon as Megumi gets close to his dad's face his little hands flung up to grip on the locks of his dad's hair.

"What's u-" He yelps when the baby boy starts to twist and turn his fists while he continues to babble something only another baby could make out and sob like he was the one in pain,

"Oh god- baby you shouldn't do that come here-"

You try pulling Megumi back in your arms, but he is willing to take Toji's head along because he just wasn't loosening his grip.

"Gumi ! mommy will cry if you don't pay attention to her !" You make a pouty face and put your hands on your hips while Toji was busy yelping and cursing not caring that the little boy could hear everything

But that immediately gets the baby's attention because he instantly turns his head around and starts crawling to you as his cries slowly starts dying down.

"Demon child !" Toji points as he runs his hands through the locks of his hair, rubbing at the area that his son almost got him bald at,

You lift the baby up in your arms as you look at Toji,

"and don't you curse again in front of our baby" you knit your brows before turning your attention to the two year old and wiping the tears away from his puffy cheeks.

"So I'm the bad guy here??" Toji questions, looking defeated.

You shrug and walk away with Megumi in your arms who had finally gotten quite.

Oh you and Toji had a lot of explaining to do to this little boy, but that wasn't a headache you both were willing to take for Monday morning.

Maybe later at night, when Megumi will seemingly be a bit less pissed at his dad.

☆ — REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !

[moonlight-prose]

SWEETNESS OF THE DAMNED

a/n: this was a quick drabble at first, but somehow turned into an allegory for persophone and hades. which isn’t surprising for me given that i’m already plotting october fics. logan isn’t a monster in this, nor is he a vampire even though the vibe and title may give that off. i just really love gothic vibes in everything i write so who better to give it to than old man logan.

summary: when night falls and wine overflows in glasses of crystal, logan finds his home in between your thighs.

word count: 1.2k+

pairing: old man!logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, p in v sex, alcohol consumption, allegories for persephone and hades, biting, scratching even though he heals, cumplay, overstimulation, squirting, dirty talk, older logan is so filthy i’m blushing.

The acrid embers of the fire burned your nose the deeper your breaths became. Red wine remained chocolatey and bitter on your tongue; the dinner you tried to eat quickly was now forgotten in favor of something else. You thought you could smell the cigar he smoked on the porch an hour ago on his bare skin. You couldn't.

Not when his fingers dug into your hips, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. He grunted with each slap of skin. The wet slick of how he pounded into you echoed loud and bright in the cabin.

You would have been embarrassed if it weren't for the sounds he let out. The way his eyes fell shut the closer you got to that fiery peak.

"C'mon baby," he sighed, ragged and needy. "I can feel ya."

Wine had gone to your head the second he poured you a third glass. Your red dress of crushed velvet lay in a heap on the floor. A pair of his jeans and a shirt beside it. The soft fabric of his flannel was smooth beneath your knees where he dropped it. Careful to keep your skin from going raw as he took you before dinner could even finish.

The alcohol is what brought this night to an early conclusion.

You already knew it would happen. Hoped for it on long days with hours that stretched for miles. Ached for his presence when you curled up in bed—the scent of his body still stuck on the cotton sheets. Logan promised to give you everything with a soft kiss at the door, his fingers gripping your chin to hold you there a minute longer. To slip his tongue past your maroon painted lips and lick along your teeth.

"'S too much," you garbled.

He laughed as you clenched around his leaking cock—tearing a deep moan from his chest. The heat of his body burned its way into yours where the fireplace couldn't reach. Each muscle and ridge along his stomach pressed into your back—his hips strong enough to break you slowed into punishing thrusts that bounced you on his thighs.

Time didn't exist; seasons began to blend into one.

The both of you resided where spring met summer and the shadow of night met fall's full moon. You wore a crown of wilted flowers—red spilling over your hands from where he asked you to bite into his skin. This was your damned hour. Your time of need.

You were the other half of an already broken soul, and he found that in your absence he couldn't hold it together for quite as long.

"You feel that?" His hand cupped your cunt—fingers spread around where he ended and you began. "She's leakin' for me baby."

"L-Logan," you gasped your throat thick with too many emotions.

The slow grind of his hips into yours sent your body hurtling towards yet another release. Your stomach was sticky where his other hand pressed - already coated in the three before. Holding onto the fraying pieces of your mind proved to be difficult when his teeth latched onto your shoulder. His fingers drew a shape around the edge of your throbbing clit.

His initials.

"You want another one don't ya honey?"

Yes. No. Please never fucking stop.

Instead all you could get out was a whine of his name. Your back arched into his hold, head pressed hard against his chest, as you fought to keep up with him. To grind against his lap and feel the drag of his cock along your walls.

"Yeah. You do," he murmured against your ear. "She wants to be good for me."

Down in the base of your stomach you felt the familiar pull of bliss begin to draw tight. You knew what came next. The rush of mind numbing pleasure trickled into your veins. Slowly drawing you higher with each stunted thrust—each echo of his fingers toying with your stretched cunt. You could count the seconds until it finally burst.

"I'm gonna–" The breath caught in your throat, hands clasping around his wrists as something shifted. "F-Fuck. Logan I'm–"

"Fuck yeah ya are," he grunted into your neck. "Gonna lick you clean after this. Get my fuckin' dessert."

His cock pounded deep against your walls, fingers pulling up the hood of your clit to circle rapidly against nerves that were already shot. And you sobbed his name. Your nails drew red angry marks on his arms that healed moments later; your body too fucking rigid and too hot to process what the fuck he was doing.

Elysium and the River Styx were ripping you apart. As if you were being pulled in two very different directions.

A clatter echoed beside you when he reached for your glass of wine, still stained with the now faded red of your lipstick. You felt his thigh shake—his cock twitching in the heat of your body. You wondered if this is what it felt like to burn alive. The sweet aching bliss of being held by your lover as he drowned you in the fire. Would this be how he took you to the Underworld?

The cold wash of wine spilled along your body as he poured out the remainder of the glass. His tongue quickly dragged across your blistering skin—drinking the cabernet off your body with a raspy groan of your name.

"'M almost there." He gripped the back of your neck and yanked you back with a kiss. His tongue plunging into your mouth—sharing the wine as his fingers pressed hard and fast against your swollen bud. "Give it to me huh? Fuckin' cum on my cock."

Your release ripped through your body with a scream. The echo of his name came back to you eventually, yet you couldn't figure out if you were the one saying it. With your nails piercing his skin, he felt you gush, choking his cock and milking him dry. A splatter of something wet landed on his thighs as he wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you still.

To bury himself as deep as he could go and finish with a blissful ragged groan against your shoulder. Wave after wave of ecstasy washed over your spent body and you felt him fill you until it began to leak out. Coating the inside of your thighs.

"Are you breathing?" he chuckled, lips sliding along your neck to find your mouth.

You answered with a whimper. Which proved enough for him.

The stickiness of the wine began to dry against your bare body while his fingers dragged through the mixture of your cum that stuck to your thigh. He sighed—content and warm—as he lowered himself to the floor. His back pressed against your clothes and softening cock still buried in your dripping cunt.

"Speak to me bub." His fingers tapped your cheek, nose nudging against your jaw. "I can't have killed ya."

"You almost did," you mumbled, barely able to open your eyes.

Exhaustion sunk right down to your bones the longer you lay there wrapped in his arms. You knew the both of you should shower. Clean up and actually eat something in its entirety this time around. Logan would say the same if it weren't for the comforting press of your weight against his body. He cupped your breasts, thumbs toying with your peaked nipples, and kissed you with a sigh.

The both of you should say something to get the other moving. Yet neither of you did.

Instead you were met with silence and the crackle of the fire. Time, now a nonexistent variable to a night spent in each other's arms.

[leonkennedyhugenaturals]

I wanna go back to the first time I listened to ZABA

[anyarose011]

Agape

Pairing: Lucius x Reader

Summary: After the Roman Empire had fallen, birthing the Republic, you and Lucius had finally found a moment to breathe in each other's presence. Over a few years' journey of healing, you find that is both exhausting, yet all the more fulfilling at the same time.

Part 2 of 2 (Masterlist)

Warning(s): Past SA, Depictions of Grief, Violence, Angst, Miscommunication, Historical Inaccuracies [I tried my best to make it kind of accurate], Nudity (sexual and non-sexual), Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex (f receiving), P in V Sex

Paul Mescal's facial hair in All of Us Strangers, if you can hear us, please save us. Nobody ask me how I went from "’Oh, I’m just gonna write some scenes about healing from trauma, and the rest is smut! Easy!" to then making it just a little longer than the first part. I'm a yapper, but holy shit XD. Anyway, this is just shameless pRopAgAnDa at what I personally view a husband to act like (even in modern times). So, without further ado, thousands of words of hurt/comfort and smut.

Word Count: 16.4k

You were a lucky child. When you were twelve and your friend was married off to a man who was forty-two, you asked your father when you would be married.

He tucked you in that night, saying that he wasn’t certain, and that you had nothing to fear; for he wouldn’t promise you to a man who was in a war the same year you were born. He would have to know him personally as well, saying.

“It’s easier to like a man than have to plan his assassination if he dared lay a hand on you.”

You like to think he would have approved of Lucius; he was the once heir to the Roman Empire.

You don’t think he would have approved of your…informal marriage.

“A year.” Lucius stated as the two of you sat together in one of the piazzas. “As long as we are not separated from each other for more than three days, Rome will view us as married if we live in the same household for a year.”

You hummed. “And why should we care what Rome views?”

“Men won’t stop their advances on you if they saw you as my sister.” he explained. “Even as a wife, that doesn’t stir them.”

“It’s a very Christian belief of you to have.”

“But it makes them think thoroughly on if they want to risk tainting you.” Lucius finally looked at you. “Knowing that I would break every finger they touched you with.”

Even with his proclamation, you merely shrugged. “Being the emperor’s favorite whore, I doubt they would care.”

He sighed. “Do you want to know what my mother wrote? Her final words that will forever be with me because they are in ink? ‘Take her as your wife.’”

It had only been one day since Lucilla’s death, since Rome had become a Republic, and no one knew exactly what to do.

Yet…even at the mention of her presence, you felt tears spring to your eyes.

How you hated crying; and crying and crying.

“It is wise.” You finally settled on. “The people here too must see me as a traitor.”

“You would be dead if they did.”

“It’s still early.” You smiled sadly. “I desired to be free of the emperors, but all they must have saw was lust for power.”

Lucius sighed. “If it is a concern, then I believe it is best to leave Rome.”

Suddenly, you were no longer afraid for your life. You scowled. “Leave the city you risked your life to liberate?”

“It is not just my own life I need to think of now, is it?”

“Then think of mine.” you began. “I don’t wish to leave. Where would we even go? I know nothing outside of Rome.”

This would have been solved if you somehow still had the house you grew up in. The moment Geta claimed you, it was gone. Even with the fall of the Empire, and the birth of the Republic, you could not take it back.

Among many other things, you could not take it back.

“We’ll live just outside the walls.” Lucius suggested. “A farm perhaps a few miles from here-.”

“-A farm?” You questioned. “You know how to farm? Because I sure don’t.”

“I’ve lived longer on a farm than I have in a palace.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did. You also weren’t in the position to bargain. Even though it wasn’t going to be what most would deem an ‘official’ marriage, he still owned you. That was how it always was, whether living outside of the Roman walls or not. Still, you had to try.

“I will learn as much as I need to,” You shook your head. “but I will find a job in the city. You cannot believe I will be shut out-.”

“-Do you want to share a room, or would you like your own?”

You furrowed your brow. “What?”

Lucius restated. “We don’t have any money to buy a farm, so I’ll build us one. Do you want your own room?”

You had only known him for a grand total of a day and a half (if you were to add up all the previous times you had spoken to him before Macrinus’ death), so needless to say, his offer shocked you; more so, it impressed you.

“Isn’t it odd for a man and wife to not share a bed?” You asked.

“So, you want to share a room?”

“No.” was your immediate response. “I just…”

Am not used to compromising with men without them threatening my life.

“Won’t it cost money to build a house?” You asked instead. “None the less, more for another room?”

“I only want you to be happy, if we’re to be married.”

There you were, asking every question and not being satisfied with his answers, yet he was remaining patient.

“Thank you.” You bowed your head in thanks for just a second before questioning. “I am still allowed to have a job in the city? It will help with the cost, of course.”

 “Where exactly do you intend to work?”

He said your name; not ‘Julia’, the name you had whispered to him in his cell. Lucius was the only one who had said it to you, for you did not even tell Lucilla or Marcus. It still felt strange hearing it on your lips, nonetheless, his.

Still, shaking your discomfort away, you hummed humorlessly. “I know two women who run their own businesses; hairdressing and tailoring. I’m better at hair than clothes, but not so much. And you?”

He sighed. “I’ll see if there’s any other farmers needing a hand.”

“You’re going to work for a farmer to build a farm?”

“It sounded more bizarre in your head than when you said it aloud, did it not?”

That was the first thing you found out about Lucius after all the bloodshed and heartbreak of the last week:

He spoke with such a straight tone, you did not know he was joking until he would smile just a hint; you couldn’t really call it a true smile.

You managed to grin. “I suppose it makes sense. You should find one that will let us sleep there.”

And he did. A farm just a few miles outside of Rome took both you and Lucius in. It was substantial, housing five chickens, two cows, three pigs, four horses, and seven human children. Albeit the children helped with the chores, but the eldest was only ten and could not manage any of the heavy lifting whatsoever, which was where Lucius came in.

From sun up to sun down, he’d work on the farm. The farmers, Atticus and Diana, let you sleep in the barn of all places. The hayloft was nice for the both of you; enough space to spread out but not be right next to each other. There was also somewhat of a wall between the two of you, giving the illusion of separate rooms.

It was certainly an adjustment for you; had been sleeping on the softest of beds for months, but even so, you just missed the bed from your old house.

Lucius fell asleep the second he laid on the hay.

Dreams and nightmares were always a peculiar thing. Some days, you would dream of your mother and father, some days, they would be of Lucilla and Marcus.

You had nightmares of what befell you before coming to the farm; Macrinus and his manipulation, Caracalla’s temper, Geta…

Yet, the worst that would happen would be you waking up more tired than the night prior. You knew Lucius was having nightmares too, but every time you approached him, he would lie and say he was fine, or simply not want to speak of it.

You stopped asking.

For the first few days on the farm, you were put to work by watching over the younger children when their mother was busy. Somehow, it was the older ones you didn’t mind, it was the youngest baby who was a handful.

It’s morbid to say, but you always wondered how any of them survived infancy.

Luckily, you managed to get back to Rome after perhaps a week of being stranded on the farm. It was almost an hour walk, and you had gotten up even before Lucius had, but it was worth it.

It wasn’t that you felt dead as you were on the farm per say, but walking through the streets brought a certain kind of life back into your steps.

You spent a good portion of the day trying to find the hairdressers you talk to Lucius about. Just as you were about to give up and try again tomorrow, something caught your ear.

Hebrew.

You turned over your shoulder and saw a man speaking in Latin to another man and a pregnant woman. The father had spoken in broken Latin before turning to his wife, speaking quickly in Hebrew as if to ask her what to say.

One of the men began to yell, and you rushed over, speaking to the patriarch of the family.

“What’s going on?” You asked quickly.

His eyes grew as if you were the first person in Rome to understand him (you probably were). “I paid for a bag of peaches fairly; two bronze, yet they’re saying it wasn’t enough.”

You turned to the men behind you. “He says he gave you two bronze for the peaches.”

“It was three.” The Roman man gritted his teeth.

Tilting your head, you tried. “Show me your stand so we may see.”

It was perhaps stupid of you to challenge him; yet, he controlled his tempter and led you to his fruit stand. The sign by the peaches indeed said ‘2’, but there was also a good amount of peaches blocking the bottom half of the sign.

When you moved a few, it read ‘3’.

You smiled, looking at the man who spoke Hebrew. “It is three, but it’s not your fault this brute didn’t notice either.”

He nodded, returning your grin before handing the men another copper. With an few mumbled exchanges, the man and his wife were on their way.

“You have Judeans in your family?” The man crudely asked.

Still, you decided to reciprocate his crassness with kindness. “I actually speak five languages.”

He rose his brows. “Is that a fact?”

“Yes, yes it is.”

He hummed, holding his hand out. “Isidorus.”

“Julia.” Was your immediate response as he took your hand and kissed your knuckles. It wasn’t even your own choice to say that name; it was what you lived by. Retracting your hand, you shake your head and said your own name. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-.”

“-All of Rome knows who you are.” He interrupted. “Do not be afraid of your own people. Most of them were there simply a week ago when you tried to slay Macrinus but was there to comfort lady Lucilla in her final moments.”

You only nodded, not wanting to be praised. “I thank you for your kindness.”

“With certain.” He nodded. “You are with child; only a monster would harm a woman carrying.”

The events of the past weeks had made you forgotten about the false babe. Luckily, the fear upon your face could be used to your advantage.

“Are you not well?” Isidorus questioned.

You dropped your gaze, stammering your tone. “The…I lost the child.”

He looked down as well. “Oh…I’m so sorry.”

“No,” you shook your head. “it’s…it feels odd. His father was terrible but…”

“Why are you perusing Rome unchaperoned?” He changed the subject.

 “My betrothed is being put to work,” you immediately answered. “and I am scouring the streets to find my own.”

“What has your luck been?”

“Nothing.”

Isidorus hummed. “I could change that.”

Even at the thought of what he was alluding to, you smiled. “Good sir, I am not in the position to sell my body-.”

“-None of that.” he waved his hand. “My brother works down at the entrance of the city gates. They’re always in need of translators.”

You nodded, considering. “When may I meet with him?”

“Tomorrow?” He asked. “Midday at the gates with many people watching so you do not feel threatened?”

The two of you laughed, and you agreed. “I shall be there. Thank you.”

“Anything to help a woman of the people.”

You walked all the way back to the farm with a skip in your step. Even at dinner, you were more talkative with the rest of the family. Lucius certainly took notice as the two of you were settling down for the night.

“You seemed better today.” He complimented, laying onto his bed of hay.

“So, I’ve been absolutely horrible the rest?” You teased, peeking around the wall of the hayloft.

 “No, just what I think you were like before everything; more yourself.” He explained. “Did the hairdressers go well?”

Leaning against the wall, you crossed your arms. “I’m actually working as a translator down by the city entrance.”

He gave you a look. “How’d this come about?”

“Well,” you began. “I overheard two men arguing, one was speaking Hebrew, and I asked him what was wrong. There was a misunderstanding over peaches of all things, I helped them talk it out, and it was solved with no bloodshed. The vendor said his brother works at the gates and is always in need of translators and offered to meet with him tomorrow. It will be midday and so many people around; do not worry.”

Lucius nodded. “I’ll accompany you.”

“Did you not hear what I just said? I shall be fine.”

“I have no doubt you would.” You knew that was a lie. “One of the scythes broke today, I’ll need to buy another one in the city.”

You didn’t know if that was a lie or not, but it wouldn’t surprise you if Lucius would sneak out in the night and break equipment simply to go with you.

Sighing, you went behind the wall to your side of the hayloft. “Fine.”

To no one but Lucius’ surprise, Isidorus had not lied about his brother, nor the job offer. Of course, the brother had been off put at a woman being the translator (because everyone knows that they are the lesser sex). Still, after some convincing (you talked to a Greek family, a man from Anatolia, and two brothers from Persia), he said you could be put to work.

Lucius stood there the whole hour you had proved yourself.

“You couldn’t have gotten the scythe while I worked?” You questioned him while walking home.

He kept his gaze on the road before him, carrying the farm equipment. “It was engaging to watch.”

You hummed. “I could see how engaged you were while you stood like this.” You crossed your arms and scowled.

“I did not look like that.” He scoffed.

“You did so!” You refuted, lowering your voice. “My name is Lucius Verus Aurelius, the Last Gladiator, son of Lucilla and Maximus, grandson of Marcus Aurelius.”

He looked down, mouth upturning a little. “I do not sound like that.”

“Is that a smile?!” you gasped. “Gods above, I never thought you could unless you were attempting humor!

“Away with you, woman.”

You only laughed as the sun was starting to set.

There was something called a “Fullmoon” period in a marriage. Most now would say it’s “Honeymoon”, but the period in time where a man and woman were in a complete state of euphoria together was called “Fullmoon” because it only lasted for a month.

You and Lucius (even with your strange circumstance) were not immune to this.

A month later, when you had fully settled into a mundane life of working in different areas for hours upon hours, the only times you saw Lucius was when you ate dinner with the farmer’s family, and before going to bed.

It didn’t’ effect you that much for the first three months, as you both were still on good terms and were fine simply cohabitating without affection. This marriage was purely for protection and to honor Lucilla’s wishes.

Then…Lucius came to you one day, saying that together, you both had enough money to build a farm. He already had a patch of land picked out from the help of the famer who employed him. It was five miles away from the farm you stayed at. Five miles more of a journey to the city.

You would move in once the walls were built, which he said would only take a week or two.

It was too fast for you.

Still, you had to go along with it, because you were to be his wife; nothing more. Even so, nothing out of the ordinary besides your hidden, simmering annoyance happened between you two.

The first day construction was to be done was when light was shed upon it.

“Lucius!” You called his name as you approached him and a few other men hauling the wood and stone that would be used. It was mid-twilight when you ran to them.

He furrowed his brow, walking towards you. “Aren’t you meant to be in the city?”

Grinning from ear to ear, you shook your head. “I asked for the day off because of the house. He said I-.”

“-You need to go back and tell him you’ll work.”

Your smile fell from his usual, monotone demeanor. “He doesn’t expect me to come in today-.”

“-Then he’ll be happy to see you.”

“May I just talk for a moment?!” You yelled.

His said nothing.

Sighing, you began. “I will be useful in any capacity. If you need me to help dig for water, measure supports, lift anything-.”

“-Your shoulder cannot carry-.”

You retorted. “-It might be the shoulder you shot, but it’s the shoulder I have to live with, and I will tell you if something is too heavy to carry.”

It hadn’t been the first time you brought up your shoulder after Rome was free. Yet, in the past, it was always out of good fun; something to say to him when you didn’t want to carry as little as an egg from the chicken coop. You told the children the story too why you had to set one of them down after carrying her for so long.

You expected them to cower away from Lucius when he returned for supper, but instead, they all tackled him to the ground to defend your honor.

They didn’t hurt him of course, and you laughed until you couldn’t breathe.

Yet, at that moment, you said it with nothing but disdain; and he heard it in every word. You thought it would have been enough to guilt him into letting you help, you made sure of it.

Lucius titled his head back toward the main road. “Go on, now. The sun will be up soon, it’ll be better to walk without daylight beating down on you.”

The audacity he had. Usually, on the times you’d have disagreements of sorts, you’d try to leave with dignity; perhaps a word of sarcasm or two.

No, you simply turned on your heel and marched away in a huff.

You were harsher that day when translating, and you were still angry by the time the day ended. You ate dinner outside by yourself (until three of the seven children came outside to eat with you), and did not utter a ‘goodnight’ to Lucius before laying down to sleep.

Neither of you spoke to the other for days after that.

It was one morning, not even when the sun was out, as you tried to tiptoe around him, did he ask from his makeshift bed.

“Do you remember where the house is?”

You nearly fell off the ledge of the hayloft. “What is wrong with you?!”

“Do you remember?”

“Yes!” you whispered, afraid to wake the whole farm. “Why?”

“We made the water pump, and the walls and floors are finished. We’ll be able to sleep there now.”

“I don’t see the appeal in sleeping in a house with no roof.”

“I’ll put half of it on today. Tell your foreman too that you won’t be able to work for the next week.”

You furrowed your brow. “Why?”

“I’m teaching you how to tend to a farm.” He wrapped his blankets tighter around him and turned his back to you.

And you continued on your way; making the long trek to the city, which would only be longer when you moved to the house.

When your work was over, you walked and walked. You took a short break at the farmer’s house, making your final goodbyes to the children, and gathering what little belongings you owned.

As you tried to leave, Diana stopped you. She was leading one of the horses, a berber, behind her.

“Take her,” she handed you the reins. “you shouldn’t have to walk so far.”

You shook your head. “I simply cannot-.”

“-I insist.” She smiled. “She’s yours now. Think of it as payment for helping me with the little beasts that are my children.”

Smiling politely, it soon faded. She took notice. “What is it?”

“…I’ve only ever ridden once, and I was a child.”

She sighed yet was still kind. “Come on, my husband’s horse is at your farm. I’ll ride back with him.”

Despite your inexperience, it was actually nice riding a horse. It was perhaps the closest you could ever come to flying in your lifetime; maybe that’s why you enjoyed it. As you were nearing your soon-to-be home, you saw a familiar silhouette along with some others.

Atop the house, against the setting sun, you watched as Lucius continued to add tiles to the unfinished roof. His shirt was off, and even with night beginning to set in with the cold air, he was still breaking a sweat from the rigorous work. You would be a liar if you say that you didn’t catch yourself staring, and it was Diana who had to take the reins.

“What a fine home!” She broke you out of your trance, and when Lucius looked in your direction, you snapped your gaze away.

Lucius nodded. “All that needs to be done is the roof.” He jumped onto the ground just as you were sliding off the horse. He gave you his hand as you were, and you took it.

“Thank you.”

Atticus and the other workers went to a lone tree where their horses were tied. Atticus then approached both you and Lucius.

“Well,” he smiled. “it was lovely hosting the both of you. Please come back as often as you can; I’m sure the children will miss you.”

You all exchanged your final goodbyes, and it when everyone rode off away from you, did you realize something. This was the first time in a while you were alone with Lucius that wasn’t when going to sleep or waking up.

“Do you have a name for the horse?” Lucius asked.

Turning over your shoulder, you led the steed to the tree, petting her as you began to tie her up. “Not at the moment. She’s yours too, do you have any?”

“You’ll be with her more; you should name her.”

Humming you looked at him when you finished securing the horse. “You asked them to give her to me, didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “They asked how they could repay you for taking care of their children, I mentioned how it would be a longer journey to the city once we moved here. That’s all I did.”

…He was better at asking for forgiveness than for permission; that was another thing you learned about him. Still, you nodded your appreciation, inspecting the area around you. It was quite beautiful even with its plainness. The fields stretched on for miles, and there were no tall buildings to cover the night sky. Even the unfinished house brought a sense of happiness to you.

Something that was, at least partially, your own.

“Where will the barn and chicken coop go?” You questioned.

A hint of a smile played on his mouth, but in Lucius fashion, did his best to hide it. “You were complaining about not having a roof, and now you wonder about things for the animals?”

“Perhaps I’m more interested in farming that you are.”

“I’ll teach you.” he led you into the house. “Come on.”

 The front living space was large, and in the corner of it had an oven, so that was where the kitchen would be. Lucius showed you the two rooms as well; each having a single pillow and a blanket.

“We’ll begin planting tomorrow.” he announced. “I don’t think I’ll have to wake you up.”

“You won’t.” You nodded. “Goodnight, Lucius.”

“Goodnight.” He said your name.

You didn’t think you’d ever get over the sound of your own name from his lips.

You named the horse after your mother. Well…not the exact same name, but a similar one. It was quite a scene too when confessing to Lucius you could exactly remember how to ride a horse by yourself.

He didn’t laugh at you, that was what greatly surprised you. He spent an hour teaching you, and you were able to ride her on your own.

Farming was more difficult than you thought it would be, but not so horrible either. Yes, where Lucius was patient with you for the first few days, he made a few snide comments as time passed. Nothing outright mean, but still enough to get under your skin.

Still, you managed to pick it up within the few weeks after that.

He had even let you help him finish the roof of the house; something you didn’t expect him to do. After living in the house for a month, both of you managed to buy actual beds for your rooms, among other luxuries like a few tables and chairs for the main living area, and utensils both for cooking and for eating.

The bathroom was completely bare. Having spent all the money on everything else, it would take time for the both of you to buy a bathtub. Bathing wasn’t a problem back on Atticus and Diana’s farm, but now being away from them, you would be forced to rely on the public baths in the city…

Even with some bathhouses having baths only for women, that did not stop men from forcing their way into them.

You didn’t mind being dirty for weeks on end.

The two of you fell into another pattern of life; you going into the city and spending hours translating foreign dialogue, and Lucius working on the farm for most days, sometimes accompanying you.

There was…something else strange as well.

It was always a coin toss on what weeks Lucius would speak to you or not.

Yes, he was always a man of few words, but this was different. There were some days when you asked him about his day, he would tell you what boring tasks he did. Than, on others, it was just one word: “Good.”

Never “Bad”, never “Just okay”; only “Good”. Even when you knew it wasn’t, that’s all he would say.

And you could endure it.

It had already been a little over half a year since the two of you started living together. In the eyes of Rome (as mere Plebians), you would be married once a year passed.

This was perhaps the best marriage you could as for as a Roman woman. Still…every day that Lucius would not speak to you only brought more dread upon your shoulders.

When he stopped even looking at you, that was when you went to Diana one day.

“It’s so lovely to see you.” She smiled, setting down two cups of wine and sitting. “It’s felt like ages!”

With her youngest baby on your lap, you chuckled, taking a sip of your drink. “You honestly didn’t need to get the wine out.”

“Nonsense!” She waved her hand. “It’s a celebration just to be in your presence. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you as well.”

“How’s the farm? Lucius?”

“Well,” you took another sip, setting your cup down. “the farm has been alright. I know at least how to properly water crops and know when they’re ready to harvest or not. I help Lucius sometimes, but…he likes things his own way. He was a farmer too, I understand.”

She hummed. “And as a betrothed? I hope having your own home would help; to me, you two treated each other more like acquaintances than anything else.”

All you could do was avoid eye contact and bounce the giggling baby on your knee.

“Ah.” She sighed. “So not much has changed?”

“We both talk more than we had at your far, but somehow, less at the same time.” You explained.

Diana reached over and held your hand, asking softly. “When was the last time you were intimate?”

As if she were a man, you tore your hand from hers. “What?”

“I do not wish anything to be forced upon you,” she stated first. “especially with what has happened to you. But…it is still important, especially to your future marriage.”

“We…we haven’t done anything in…months.” You were not going to tell her you hadn’t even seen him naked. You were not going to tell her you hadn’t done you “duty” as a woman.

She nodded. “There must be something plaguing his mind terribly.”

“I know that!” You cried. “He just won’t tell me.”

“Men do not like talking,” Diana sighed. “I have been married to Atticus for fifteen years, and even after ten children, there are parts of his past I still do not know of. What Lucius frets over is important though. You must dig your heels into the ground and let him know you are not doing anything until he tells you what he has issue with.”

The baby on your lap cooed as you held her, reaching for parts of your clothing. Diana took her from you once the baby started fussing, and you offered her a grateful smile.

“I’ll try my best with him.”

She squeezed your shoulder. “He will come to his senses. If not, then he truly hit his head too hard in the Colosseum.”

Except, you couldn’t confront him when you got home. Even though the sun was only beginning to set, when you arrived, the house was silent. You peeked into his bedroom and saw that he was already fast asleep.

With a sigh, you finished your nightly activities, and when the sun went down, you were in your own bed.

The nightmare was unlike any you had before.

Hands from all around you reached out to you. Some grabbed clumps of your hair, stuck their fingers into your mouth, caressed the most intimate parts of your body, or even tear your skin off.

You blinked and then you were in the palace, surrounded by cloaked figures. Someone forced you onto your back, and you looked up and saw Geta, raising a knife high above his head before diving it into your stomach. He carved it out before digging his hands into the opening he made and pulled out your womb.

After sitting up in bed, you had thought you awoken. When you opened your bedroom door, you were welcomed to a field of reeds, seeing nothing for miles. All but a silhouette in the distance. You could not make out it to be a man or a woman; all you knew was that you needed to run to them.

Yet, even as you dashed through the fields, calling out a name you do not even remember, your feet sank into the ground with each step.

The earth swallowed you whole before you could even reach them.

You didn’t awake with a scream; you didn’t even awake with a cry. You did awake in a sweat. Sitting up, you slowly pulled the blanket away from your body. Your stomach was unwounded, and nothing had happened.

Without knowing why, you rose from your bed and slipped on your sandals. Not even putting on a robe, you walked out of the house into the cold, night air. Numbly, you treaded through the tall grass away from the house and stopped.

The stars above you watched as you fell to your knees, and the past finally had the last laugh.

You wept for your mother (whose touch you never felt).

You wept for your father (who you had to take care of the same way he took care of you).

You wept for Marcus (the first man outside of your father to ever see you as a person).

You wept for Lucilla (the woman who saved you in more ways than one).

You wept for the innocence you lost to the twin emperors (and how you mercilessly killed them).

You wept and wept, until you felt bile claw its way up your throat and out of your mouth.

The tears did not stop even after you were finished.

Two hands grabbed your shoulders from behind, and you tried to tear yourself away with a sharp cry. You were turned around, and even though your tears blinded you, you could see that it was Lucius.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his eyes grown.

You couldn’t speak clearly, only shaking your head and saying ‘No’ over and over. Lucius led you to the water pump and sat you down by it. Cranking the handle until the water flowed freely, he cupped his hand to catch some of it before gently washing your face.

The cool water grounded you, and your sobs began to slow. Once you were only left with shallow breathing and a stuffed nose, Lucius finally sat beside you.

“What happened?” He asked again, although, returning to his normal, straight-toned self.

“Bad dream.” Was all you said.

He said nothing at first. Then, looking down at the grass beneath him, he said. “Would talking about it help you?”

It was meant to be a helpful question, but it only angered you. “You ask that now? After I run out into the night screaming?”

Lucius squinted his eyes. “Why does that bother you?”

“I know you have nightmares too.” You scoffed. “I have asked you dozens of times if you wish to talk to me about them, and you have always said no. You’ve never once asked me about mine, so how dare you expect me to tell you about it now when you cannot even share yours with me!”

“That’s not fair.” He shook his head.

You stood up, walking back to the house. “You’re right, it isn’t fair.”

He jumped to his feet. “You can’t walk away without telling me why this is troubling you.”

“You first.”

“What?”

You turned to face him. “We are to be married in less than a year, at least ‘In the eyes of Rome’ as you say, yet you do not even look at me anymore!”

His shoulders fell, and he shook his head. “I am looking at you-.”

“-I ask you how you are these days, and you lie to me every time.” You interrupted. “The few instances you allow me to work beside you, you criticize every little thing I do. I understand that I am the farthest thing you wanted for as a wife-.”

 It was that word that struck a chord. Despite saying it every so often those past few months…it was only then it occurred to you that where Lucius was your first husband…you were not his first wife.

He tore his gaze away from yours, as if he knew you had figured it out. You sighed. “Gods above…I’m sorry for what has happened to her, and I will never know the loss of a love like that…but I cannot be viewed as her replacement-.”

“-Who told you that you were?” He sharpened his tone.

You swallowed, knowing that this would all end in tears no matter what you said. “You do not tell me anything. I will never ask you to care for me the way you cared for her, but she is gone-.”

“-I couldn’t do anything after she died but weep and watch her body float into the ocean.” He hissed. “I vowed to kill the man that slaughtered her, and I didn’t. It had been perhaps just a month since her death, did I promise myself to another woman. I have dishonored her memory three times.”

“I do not know how long you need me to apologize for something I could not control, but I will if that means you will stop hating me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You hate that I will be your wife!” Your voice was growing hoarse. “I don’t understand it at all. I will be whatever it is you wish me to be in few months’ time, because you will own me. Even if you wish me to be dead, it shall be done because what I want will not matter-.”

“-Must you make everything about yourself?!” He finally yelled. “Would it soothe you if I said I despised every part of you? That if Jupiter himself came down and offered me my old life in exchange for you, I would give you up to him?! Would it give you any peace of mind if I told you I would have rather died in the arena than live a thousand years with you?”

You had expected him to at least pause after he made his confession. To at least have the courage to look you in the eye and watch as the words sunk into your being. Yet, as soon as he finished, he stomped back to the house; and you were alone outside again.

The tears upon your face glimmered from the light in the sky above you, for all you could do was stare at the little farmhouse Lucius had built for you.

How strange that something you once saw as a sign of devotion, was now revealed to be one of complicity.

He had admitted his disdain for your future marriage. You knew that it would be loveless (you would never escape that), but you wished at least for respect. Seeing as how you were not even going to have that, you dragged your feet over to the tree where your horse was tied up.  Mounting her with nothing but the clothes on your back, you raced down the pathway.

For the first day, you had stayed at Diana and Atticus’ farm. You said nothing about Lucius, and tried to spend the most time with the children to avoid any questions.

On the second day, you finally went back to the city. Even though the man in charge of you yelled louder than Lucius had at you, it did not phase you. You merely nodded and returned to work. With what money they paid you for the day, you spent it on a room at the safest inn you could find. You had another nightmare that night. Not as horrible as the one two days prior, but awful enough for you to lay awake until the sun rose.

The third day seemed to be ordinary, until you finished your job, and you were promenading along the market. As you eyed the fruit at Isidorus’ stand, a man came to stand beside you.

“Good sir,” you heard Lucius’ voice. “do you have a wife?”

Isidorus nodded. “I do.”

“What from your stand would you give her if she was angry at you?”

He eyed you before smiling at Lucius. “My ears to listen.”

You turned, promptly walking away. Of course, Lucius followed.

“I didn’t know you confided into strangers about our qualms.”

“He’s not a stranger.” you kept trying to lose him. “And gifts will not suffice for an apology this time.”

He got in front of you, uttering your name. You stopped, sighing. “What else have you come to say to me?”

“That I am a fool.”

Although you weren’t necessarily expecting him to admit it, you only nodded. “You very much are.”

He began. “For my entire life, I was not allowed to be entirely truthful with others. Whether it was how I felt in the moment, or even my own name. I’m not used to the freedom of being candid with one another. And I have been mistreating you; I have provided a home, but I haven’t provided your wellbeing. Ari-.” Lucius paused, breathing through his nose. “Arishat and I lived on a farm, that was all I knew while being a husband. I will love her until the end of my days, but that does not give me the right to neglect you. I will…I will try with all my being to share my thoughts with you.”

You stared at him, feeling as if you would blink, and you would awaken from another dream. Yet once you did and saw that he was still in front of you, you said.

“I didn’t mean to insult your memory of her.”

He shook his head. “I believe she would hit me if she were here and saw how I treated you.”

“Thank you.” You nodded. “Truly, for everything. I…it’s not only you, I don’t know if I will ever feel like myself after…everything.”

Lucius already knew. Still, looking around himself, he then said. “Where is your horse?”

“The inn I’ve been staying at has a stable. You walked the whole way here?”

“It’s what I deserved.”

“You smell horrible.” You mustered a shy grin.

He mirrored you, looking away. “I have for a while.”

“I do as well. I was…I was going to brave the baths; would you like to join me?”

Your offer took him by surprise. Usually, a question like that would be an invitation to more salacious activities to take place. Still, what took him aback more was how you were initially so afraid of the public baths, yet there you were.

“I shall.” He agreed.

Thus, the two of you walked beside one another. There were many baths in Rome, yet it would be challenging to find one that had a separate bath for women and one for men. By the time you reached the third bathhouse, you sighed.

“This will do.”

Lucius shook his head. “I’ll ask the workers at this one if they know-.”

“-No.” You stopped him. “It’s fine. I wish to speak more with you.”

He was still hesitant, but gave in. The two of you entered and drifted off to the separate changing rooms. It was strange that the bathhouse had rooms for the different sex to disrobe, but not baths itself.

After locking your clothes away, you ventured out into the main pool. You were welcomed to an array of naked bodies. You weren’t entirely innocent of course, even before everything. You were never to see any of these people again; it was Lucius you would live with.

Quickly, you disappeared half of your body under the surface of the water and clung to the wall of the large bath. Other people around you laughed and socialized, only putting you more in the eyes of men who only came to the baths for one thing.

Yet, before you could take a moment to worry, your eyes fell to Lucius who entered. You soon averted them and felt the water shift beside you as he entered. You turned to look at him, leveling yourself with the side of the pool, essentially shoulder to shoulder with him. The hear radiating off of his body onto yours reminded you too much of that night months ago; the one where you whispered your name into his ear.

“What were you like as a boy?” You questioned in an attempt to hide how flustered you were.

He hummed. “Why do you ask?”

“If you wish to be more honest with me, than I think it should be best to stary with something minor.”

“I understand. I was spoiled growing up in the palace. Still, I wished nothing more than for adventure. All my life, the mere thought of war and battles were taught as a way to bring glory to the empire; pride for one’s family. I had gotten my foolish wish when Maximus died, and my mother sent me away from Rome.” He paused momentarily, before continuing. “I ran all across the land until I was thirteen, where I finally settled in Numidia. I had changed my named too many times to count and settled upon Hanno.”

Your attention did not waver for a moment. When he was finished you asked. “How old were you when you left?”

“Eight…” There was a sad silence between the two of you. A silence held in almost reverence for all the troubles he had been through. “What about you?”

Even with your uneasiness to answer your starkly different childhood, you did so; also have been promising to be honest with him. You spoke of your father, your past friends, the house you grew up in. He never once looked upon you with envy or hatred.

“Your father sounded like a good man.” He said.

“He was.” You nodded, feeling a weight settle in your chest. "I think he would have liked you.”

“I can only hope.”

The conversation halted after that, unknown if you should wait for him to ask a question, or for you to ask another. Both of your eyes drifted around the bath house as people filtered in and out. When your gaze fell back onto Lucius’ you watched his eyes flicker to something behind you. Before you could utter a word, he placed his hand upon your bare back, bringing his lips to the space between your ear and your jaw.

It all happened so fast you had no time to react, and your body shivered upon the feel of him being so close to you.

“There’s a man eyeing you from behind.” He whispered into your skin. “Don’t look at him, just keep looking at me. I’m sorry.”

You pulled away slightly, doing as he told. He traced circles on your back with his thumb, staring intently at you. Even as you shrunk under his eyes, they did not frighten you.

Deciding to play along, you trailed your hand up his bare arm until resting on his shoulder. You felt his skin erupt into goosebumps and he took a sharp intake of breath.

“Okay?” You asked.

He nodded. “Yes, it’s just…it’s been a while.”

Anyone with any sense knew that meant more than one thing. It had been a while since he felt anyone’s touch; nonetheless, a naked woman’s.

From behind him, you saw a small group of girls all looking at you. They all looked a little younger than you, and acted like so, giggling loudly and talking without a care in the world. It was only then that you noticed they were looking at Lucius.

“Is there someone eyeing me now?” He attempted to tease you when he noticed your gaze.

You nodded, no hint of humor behind your voice. “A good few of them.”

“Is that so?”

You removed your hand. “I wouldn’t mind, you know.”

“Wouldn’t mind what?” He pinched his eyebrows together.

“…Getting your release from a woman that isn’t me.” You were puzzled by his seeming ignorance. “You’re a man, I understand-.”

He said your name with somewhat of gasp. You didn’t listen one bit.

“No, I mean it. I will not be more selfish than I already have been, expecting you to remain celibate because I don’t think I will-.”

Lucius said your name again and you stopped. Even when you did, he said it a third time as if to know he had your attention. He continued to run his fingers up and down your back.

“I will not dishonor you-.”

“-I have been dishonored several times before, it does not matter-.”

“-Listen to me.” He said softly yet firmly. “Even if I desired someone carnally, it is not selfish of you to want my loyalty. I’m not a boy who wishes to bed anything that breathes. I don’t think I can do so with someone I do not have any deep feelings for. You are my wife, and I will not treat you less.”

He didn’t call you his ‘betrothed’. As if, the moment you accepted his apology, you were already his other half. To hear him speak with so much certainty after neither of you knowing what any day would bring…it brought an astonishing comfort you never knew you needed.

“Thank you.” You felt like your heart could beat again.

“You don’t-.”

“-No but I do. I don’t…I don’t think I could give you anything of myself if you wanted it. It’s still…I remember a lot of what Geta did to me, and I forgot it at the same time. It doesn’t happen a lot in my nightmares, but it still does. That one night you found me he…he cut out my womb and held it in his hands. I thought I woke up, but I didn’t, and I think I was in Elysian Fields, but I only saw a shadow. I don’t know what any of that means.”

Lucius let you finish all of the anxiety you had thrown onto him. Still, releasing a shallow breath, he said.

“You die in most of my dreams.” He clarified. “The bad ones, I mean. A lot of people do, but you’ve been in them the most. There are times I see both you and Arishat, or my mother, or all three of you and…those are the worst. The night I found you outside, I couldn’t…I had a horrible dream that I couldn’t even see your face, but I knew it was you when I found you hanging in the Colosseum.”

If the both of you weren’t naked and, in the bathhouse, you would have embraced him. Yet, with the most understanding look in your eyes, you brought your hand to the base of his neck, his loose curls between your fingers. You swore you felt him relax into your touch for just a moment.

“I’ve known everyone to have their own beliefs of dreams.” You whispered. “They’re meant to predict the future, they reflect the past, they are punishments, they are blessings, and they mean nothing. I wonder if it’s possible they are all of them.”

He nodded. “I don’t know what I believe in anymore.”

“I do.” Lucius unknowingly leaned into you just ever so slightly. You grinned from ear to ear, pulling your hand away from him. “I believe you need to cut your hair.”

He chortled. “I’m not spending anything on cutting it. It’s fine.”

“I’ll cut it then.”

“I would rather be stabbed.”

“Oh, quit being dramatic.” you playfully swatted him. “There’s a reason I would’ve been a better hairdresser than tailor.”

The two of you teased one another for a minute longer after that. Than, even though the conversation died, it was not in vain. There was a quiet gentleness and protectiveness as you both shared a short distance between each other while bathing. Lucius kept his eye on you more than you did him, knowing that it was always possible a man could try to take advantage of you.

When all was said and done, you got your horse from the stable at the inn, and the two of you rode back to the farm with a newfound understanding of each other.

More than a year and a half have passed since the fall of the Roman Empire and its subsequent birth of the Republic. Your strange marriage with Lucius grew into a friendship of respect and understanding. You both talked more than you had when you were first betrothed, even if your busy schedules remained the same.

The farm had improved after its first harvest, even raising enough money to build a chicken coop and house a few chickens. The house itself was more furnished, and the two of you managed to purchase a bathtub, no longer needing to use the public ones in the city.

Both of you had changed as well. Even with what minimal farm work you did, it built both your strength and stamina. Lucius had begun to grow out his facial hair; not much for it to be an actual beard, but more so just under his nose. You’d joke about it looking like a caterpillar, to which he would lightly shove you away.

After the intimate discussion the two of you shared, it was only then you both realized you still didn’t know much about each other. Most importantly, the little things that made each of you a person.

So, you’d take time to get to know one another.

You were helping Lucius pull weeds around the crops when you found out he had ripped a monkey’s throat out with his teeth during his very first gladiator fight.

You were reading a collection of poetry one night when Lucius told you that you mouth the words of whatever you’re reading if you find it most interesting.

During supper one night, Lucius ate the entirety of the plate only to then eat whatever else you hadn’t. That was when your theory was proven right; he does forget to eat sometimes.

Both of you had tried to keep the housework to an equal amount; if he cooked one night, you’d clean the kitchen and vice versa. Yet, some remained stagnant; you always cut his hair, yet he always changed the horses’ shoes.

Cutting his hair was perhaps your favorite way to speak with him.

“Remember to clean your sandals before coming in next time.” He reminded you as he sat on a tree trunk outside. “You tracked in mud.”

Standing behind him while trimming small hairs, you shook your head. “My apologies, master of the house; it was downpouring and I was freezing.”

“Serves you right, I’d say.”

You placed the tip of the shears against his neck. “What else do you have to say?”

He snickered. “That you’re an astonishing woman who I am blessed to have.”

“Wrong answer, all lies.” You pretended to stab him, only to bring the shears back to his hair.

“I’m not lying!” Lucius laughed.

You only gave him a ‘tsk’ before continuing. “Are you sleeping any better?”

He said nothing at first. Your eyes drifted down to his hands and saw him pull on his tunic; another telltale sign of his nervousness.

“I keep seeing my mother’s face.” He admitted. “Only her face, nothing else.”

“It was the third night last night, right?”

“Yes.”

You sighed. “Would you want to hear a dream I had a few days ago to make you feel better?”

“Better because it was happy, or because you think I’ll feel happy I wasn’t you?”

“The latter.”

“Tell me.”

You turned his head to the side gently, continuing your work. “I stood in front of the entire senate of Rome, and they were all laughing at me. I don’t even know what I said, they only laughed and laughed.”

“Is that not what happened to you in the waking day?”

“No, they listened…I think.” You shook our head. “It more so angers me that, in the waking life, I presented logic to them, and they still chose Macrinus who showed nothing of the sort.”

“Some men like to speak of only desiring logic yet run away with their emotions once it is presented.” Lucius stated. “What had you told them?”

“That all of Rome would continue to riot if they killed Lucilla.” You said grimly. “I still don’t understand; they had their proof of the rage Rome’s children could feel when their general was killed, the only reason the city did not fall was because Macrinus was slain. I’m done.”

You set your shears down and Lucius stood, shaking the fallen hair off his clothes. He turned to you.

“If it matters at all, I think the only reason this house hasn’t fallen is because of you.”

Grinning from ear to ear, you shoved him playfully. “Away with you, you’re just as much of the reason as I am.”

“I do all that I can.”

There were moments like this where you would not speak of childhood memories or events of your day. These moments were reserved for the days where it felt like time slowed down just to give you two the grace to speak about them in more detail.

With only a single candle between the two of you one quiet night, you told him how you have to walk a different path in the city sometimes simply to avoid brothels; hating the sounds you would hear from inside, the stench of cheap perfume and sweating bodies burning your nose, the men who would brag to their friends about the women they had.

At breakfast one day, before the sun had even rose, Lucius told you about a time when he was ten, still on the run. He had gone into a man’s house with the promise of food, only to then be hit the head with something so heavy, he was knocked out. He had awoken in a dark room, but managed to find a curtained window, and escaped. He never knew what would have happened to him if he had woken up just a minute later.

There was tenderness you shared with him that you had never shared with anyone in your life.You sht

That was only more apparent on one fateful day.

The first bad omen for the day that morning was when you had run out of sugar for breakfast that morning. The second was when your horse was extra stubborn as you rode her into the city; it was so out of the ordinary, you wondered if you did something to make her hate you.

Still, everything was fine once you went to work. At least it was for the first half of the day.

There were aggressive people from across the land coming into the city you certainly had to deal with, but the worst was when a man twice your size bluffed you with a slap. Even so, the other men you worked with had yelled and sent her away.

That day though…there was a woman with a look in her eyes.

You thought you had seen pure rage when you had been with Geta. Yet, that day was a lesson to you; wrath had many faces.

She mumbled in Greek, but you did not know what she said at first. Then, she attempted to speak Latin. You politely told her you could speak Greek, and so with exhaustion, she told you that she was going to visit her mother.

When asked for her mother’s name, she didn’t say it. After asking again, she became enraged, yelling at you that she should just be able to be let in. When you resisted, she grabbed your bad arm, yanking it to pull you closer to her.

The pain shot through your shoulder like a bolt of lightning, and you cried out. She tugged on your hair as the men beside you tried to pry her away from you. Luckily, she didn’t manage to yank any of it out once the men forced her away from you. Tears fell freely over your face as you cradled yourself, unable to stop the sobs from leaving your lips.

They let you leave early yet paid you as if you were there the whole day.

The ride back to the farm wasn’t any better, but at least your steed took notice of your heartache and was more merciful to you. When you made it home, you slowed her down when you saw Lucius limping towards the house.

You both stopped where you were, staring at one another as if you weren’t supposed to be seeing the other.

“Why are you back so early?” He asked first.

“Why are you dragging your foot?” You asked second.

Lucius took a deep breath, and you saw tears in his eyes. “I fell.”

The only time you had seen him cry was when burying Lucilla; it wouldn’t be from simply falling. You slowly pulled yourself off your horse but did so quick enough before he could rush to help you. You wished nothing more than to pull him into the warmth of the house, to sit him down and tend to his wound to distract you from your own.

Yet, the moment you took his hand, he began to weep.

“Oh Lucius.” You whispered, bringing your hand up to cradle his face. He wrapped both of his arms around you, bringing you onto the ground with him. You yelped a little when he squeezed your bad shoulder too tight, and he pulled away.

“What happened?” He asked.

You shook your head. “You need-.”

“-What happened?!”

Knowing he wouldn’t stop asking, you told him. “Someone at the gate attacked me. Pulled on my bad arm, my hair…it wasn’t as bad as you’d think-.”

“-Where is he?” He lowered his tone and his demeanor.

Your jaw dropped into a surprised huff. “She is long gone by now, and even if she wasn’t then as my husband, you should stay with me instead of wandering the streets of Rome hoping to find someone to be your anger’s victim!”

Though he still wore that rage upon his face, it soon fell once he saw your own tears fall from your eyes like dewdrops on flowers. Lucius laid himself flat on the dirt, and you sat above him.

“I have been married to you longer than I had been to Arishat.” He confessed. “I knew her for longer, but-but not as deeply; no, I-I knew her more than…I don’t…It’s been long since her death, yet there are moments I think of her, and I cannot stop crying.”

You never knew this was in his heart. You knew to never speak of Arishat, only listen whenever he would bring her up (even so, it was once in a blue moon).

“I’m sorry.” He sniffled, trying to pull himself together. “I know she is gone, and I shouldn’t be-.”

“-You shouldn’t what?” You interrupted. “Remember her? You think I wish for you to forget the woman you so loved?”

He shook his head. “No, but it’s selfish of me to-.”

You were the one to make him lose his words this time. With both hesitation certainty, you placed his head into your lap. It was too late for you to stop once you did, and you felt your own body tense. Then, upon taking a look at his body battered from rigorous work, and another at his face, which relaxed with his eyes fully shut, you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Lucius,” you sighed. “never will I think you are a horrible man for mourning her. You missing her shows just how much you adored her, and how she was a treasure to you. In another life, above all, I wish I could have met her. You are not in the wrong for wanting to see her again. I know you do not love me-.”

“-I do love you.” He opened his eyes upon saying it.

Your heart felt as if it was going to beat itself out of your chest and run away when he said those four words. To preserve your sanity, you took it a different way and smiled sadly.

“Not in the way you loved her.” You said softly. “But what else more can I ask for in a husband than one who treats me with a gentleness I did not know was possible? One who has been there to protect me even before we were married?”

Lucius took a deep breath, rubbing his face to clear away his tears. “You’re too good to me.”

“Gods above,” you groaned tiredly. “we can go back and forth on who deserves each other. Let us just go back into the house, have supper, and sleep.”

“I would like that.” He hissed as he went to stand.

Helping him, once he was on his best foot, you said. “You never told me what you did to your leg.”

He looked behind him at the field. “There was a snake and a rock.”

You gave him a look. “And what happened with them?”

“I don’t wish to speak of it.” He said grimly.

In any other instance, you would have laughed. Yet, as his eyes were still heavy from crying, you just nodded. The both of you helped each other into the house, and you sat him down on one of the several cushions in the living area.

“Your arm,” he asked. “how bad is it?”

You shook your head. “Just really sore. I think she might have left a nasty bruise or two somewhere, but I won’t know yet.”

“Put one of the cloths in the pot with water and put it over the fire.” He told. “Take it out after a few minutes, let it rest for another, then put it on your shoulder. It should help.”

“Thank you.” You stood, doing so, saying. “I swore we had bandages somewhere. I’ll make something for you to drink too; I bought some herbs just last week.”

He nodded, not taking his eyes off of you as you worked. If it were any other man, you would have felt unsafe; yet, it was only Lucius.

Little by little that night, both of you helped heal one another.

Half a year passed since that night, and you and Lucius had only grown closer. Perhaps as close as you could be with a man who was not your husband by choice.

Not much on the farm had changed; you two were living comfortably, and happily, almost making all the turmoil from the first year worth it. The both of you decided to make more visits to Atticus and Diana’s home, realizing just how much you both missed having someone to talk to outside of each other; but that did not mean you had to keep things hidden of course.

If anything, you shared everything with each other.

So much so, that when Lucius asked you why you held onto him longer when he embraced you on your birthday, you told him the truth.

“I don’t want every time we touch to be when it is in turmoil.” You explained, growing meeker. “And I…I’ve missed the feeling of it when it has not been forced upon me.”

Lucius stared at you with a look you had never seen from him. He had been gentle with you many a times, but they way his eyes fell into yours…

He took a step closer to you, and when you showed no sign of discomfort, he took your face into his hands. Your eyes shut at the feeling of him, and he pressed his head against yours. Never in your life had someone’s breath upon your skin feel so immaculate.

From there on out, it always seemed like you had to have a hand on each other one way or another.

It started with holding hands whenever walking through the city together. He used to ‘lead’ you through the crowds in the past, but more so with a hand hovering over your back. No, him holding your hand meant he would have to go where you would go if anything were to happen.

Alongside this, he’d reach over and hold it at Atticus and Diana’s house; whether it was during dinner, or simply just talking. The eldest child had said what the rest of the household had been thinking.

“They’re finally acting like they’re married!”

Because even when there were no other eyes besides yours, he would still hold your hand. You wonder if it ever became a way for Lucius to ground himself; because it certainly did for you.

You hugged him more often as well. Those used to be for ‘substantial’ occasions; those being celebrations or heartbreaks. Now, they were incorporated into greetings and goodbyes. Of course, it only took a few weeks before they were than made into simple desires.

He would be cooking dinner, and you would come beside him to embrace him. You would be gathering eggs from the chickens, and he would wait for you to set the basket down before tossing his arms around you.

At night, it was normal for you both to trade spots as one of you would read a story, and the other would have their head in the other’s lap.

This happened on so many occasions, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise for what Lucius proposed next, but it did.

“If you don’t favor the question I’m about to ask you, then you are allowed to never speak to me again.” He said, his feet hanging off the arm of the lecti couch you both bought that year.

“Well,” you scoffed, sitting on the end of it. “I will have to speak to you again because we live together.”

“Would you want to sleep in my room tonight?” Never in your life had you thought that would have been his question. When you didn’t speak right away, he backtracked. “I don’t expect you to. I understand if-.”

“-The nights are growing colder.” You stated, no visible uneasiness. “I’ve noticed it, and I don’t think any number of blankets could warm me.”

He swallowed thickly, and this was perhaps one of the first times you’d ever seen him like this. “Yes…it’s cold.”

You nodded, and another beat of silence fell between you two. Standing up, you tugged at the seams of your dress. “I-I’ll go change.”

“Yes,” he sat up. “I shall as well.”

Disappearing into your room, you tossed your day clothes off then slipped on a nightdress. After pacing around the floor for a few moments, you gathered the courage to go out into the hall and knock on Lucius’ door.

It was opened as if he was standing right behind it.

He wore just a plain, tattered tunic, and said nothing; yet, you caught his eyes run down you before immediately bringing them back to your face. You were not even in his room yet, and already your body grew warmer.

“May I come in?” You asked.

“Yes, of course.” He stepped aside and you entered.

Somehow, you were no longer man and wife; you were two people who had just discovered a strange, yet burning, feeling that you both held for one another. A feeling that you were both afraid to say aloud…because then it would be real.

The only light in his room was from the moon just peeking through the curtain of his one window. Looking around, you saw that it was still just the bare minimum; a bed, a small table beside it with a lamp, and a dresser. The only others things of note were his sword leaning against the wall, and just a few dirty clothes on the floor.

“I-I tried to clean before you came.” He mentioned.

“Is the rest under the bed?” You asked.

He chuckled. “Yes.”

Before you could change your mind, you pulled the covers off one side of the bed and slid under them. Glancing behind at Lucius, you saw him wear a look where you knew he wanted to say something.

“What is it?” You asked.

“That’s usually the side I sleep on but-.”

You rolled over to the other side. “Are you content now?”

He wheezed, moving to his designated side, slipping under the covers. “Very.”

“Good.” You smiled up at him.

His own mouth lowered as you could see him thinking. He then said. “I don’t expect us to do anything.”

You watched as his eyes dropped from you, as if it was too invasive just to merely look. Thinking from only your heart, you scooted closer, resting your hand on his arm. You ran your fingers up and down his muscles, but then guided his arm to wrap around your waist.

“Okay?”

He hummed, pulling you just a little closer. “Yes.”

“And we’ll just lay together?” You whispered. “Nothing else?”

“Nothing else.”

And that’s what you did. The compete truth was that you would caress him only to remind yourself that it was Lucius and not Geta. His arms, his back, his face…he was nothing like him.

After a few more nights, you told him that as you both lay awake, unable to sleep. He had pulled you on top of him that night, saying that you could see his face better in the moonlight. You only giggled, hiding your face in his chest; even that was too much for you.

It was easier to tell each other things in the darkness. You always knew that, but with being in the same bed (you had not gone back to your room for a week), the words flowed out of both your mouths.

“After my father died,” you said one night as you laid on your side facing him. “I would stroke my own hair or even my arms and pretend they were someone else’s. Even when I was with Geta.”

Lucius stared at you, then immediately began to caress your cheek. You shut your eyes, sighing at the feeling.

“I never thought I’d be able to sleep next to another woman again.” He whispered.

“And now?” You looked into his eyes.

He stopped his movements, but did not remove his hand. You watched every part of him. How his chest heaved shallowly, his arms tensing ever so slightly, but his eyes…gods his eyes. They were heavy as they looked at you; a look that made your heart flutter and not shutter.

Swallowing your fear, you sat up and inched closer to him. Your face hovered above his, and your breath heated his skin. His hand continued to trace shapes about your cheek, and shutting your eyes, you placed your lips upon his.

It was the gentlest kiss you ever shared with a man.

You had pulled away, dreading to see how he felt. When your eyes befell his gentle smile, and his other hand came up to cup your face, you kissed him again.

And again, and again, and again.

You climbed upon his lap without pulling your lips away from him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He sat up, his own arm encircling your waist and drawing you impossibly closer.

Lucius parted from you, and as you whined at the loss of his lips, they soon settled upon your cheek, and then your jaw, and then your chin. Your heavy pants turned to soft grunts as he kissed down your neck, his mustache scratching your skin in just the right way.

Your hands settled into his hair the lower he traveled, moving your night gown off your shoulder to kiss your collarbone. You felt yourself becoming intoxicated from him, and only then noticed you had been for a while.

Oh, how you wished you could bottle up his laugh, his strength, his stubbornness, and get drunk every night. His kisses only added fuel to the fire that was your desire for him.

He sunk his teeth into your skin, and your body, once enflamed, ran cold.

“No!” You tore yourself from his lap, nearly falling off the bed.

Lucius said your name, leaning forward on instinct but soon stopped once he saw you crawl away. “I’m sorry.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. All you knew was that you needed to go, so you did. Cradling yourself in your arms, you got up from his bed, rushing out of his room and into yours.

You half expected him to knock on the door, then, when you wouldn’t answer, him yell and curse you before breaking it down. Yet nothing of the sort happened. You heard his own door open, and you saw his shadow on the other side, but he did not touch your door. He left after a moment of waiting.

When his own door shut, did you finally cry.

You told yourself that night, you would wake up far earlier than Lucius would so you simply wouldn’t have to see him.

When you awoke, you did the exact opposite. You laid in your bed, trying to return to sleep, only to be forced to lie in the dark. The sun rose into your room, and you heard Lucius’ door open. Still, you did not get up.

It was quite comedic, actually. With your door still shut, he knew you were still home. How he tried his best to keep quiet for you, yet his footsteps had always been heavy, the front door had always creaked, and you could always hear him cursing under his breath every time.

When you knew he had left the house, that was when you stood from your bed, slipping on your sandals. You didn’t bother changing out of your nightdress, leaving your room, and then the house.

Lucius was amongst the chickens when he saw you. He didn’t bother hiding the surprise upon his face at the sight of you. You walked to him until there was little space between you.

“Last night-.”

You took his hand from his side, placing it upon your face. He rubbed your cheek with his thumb as if it was natural. Kissing the palm of his hand, you trailed it down to your clothed breast. He breathed your name with hesitance, but you shushed him. You held his hand there, not taking your eyes off him.

“I will show you, one day.” You told him. “I will show you the mark Geta had made. The one where I myself can scarcely see it, yet I know that it haunts me. But now…” You brought your other hand up to his face, tracing your thumb over his lip. “I just want you to understand.”

He kissed the pad of your thumb, nodding. You embraced him, and he held you with both gentleness and ferocity. The rest of the day carried on as normal, yet you aided him with the chores on the farm.

You went to bed with him that night, but it was the first time he did not entrap you in his arms. You knew he was still afraid of hurting you, but you would be a liar if you said you weren’t thankful for the space.

Still, he would feel your touch every day; whether it was something as small as brushing his hand, or as substantial as kissing his cheek.

As the both of you lay awake one night, you played with the sleeve of his tunic.

“Could I lie on top of you?” You asked.

Lucius looked over at you, nodding. “You never need to ask.”

“I want to.” You climbed on top of him, straddling his lap. “I never want to force you to do anything.”

His eyes fell to your hips before returning them to your face. “I’ll tell you if I wish to not do something. I hope you know you can as well.”

“I do. Would you like to touch me?”

“Where do you want me to touch you?”

You moved his hands to your hips, which he held firmly, yet not enough to hurt you. You leaned down so your lips touched his.

“No teeth.” You said.

“No teeth.” He repeated.

Lucius sighed into your mouth as you kissed. Despite how you were on top of him, the kiss was sweet, shy even. When you pulled away, you trailed your lips from his cheek to his ear.

“Do you dream about me?” You rasped.

He said nothing, and you continued to kiss every part of his face besides his lips.

“It’s okay.” You kissed his Adam’s Apple. “I want you too.”

“Yes.” His breath hitched.

“What was I doing in your favorite one?” You kissed his pulse point.

“You,” he breathed sharply through his nose. “you’re touching yourself.”

“Would that please you?” You sat up in somewhat surprise, resting your hands on his chest. “To watch me do so?”

He shook his head. “I want to do what pleases you.”

It felt foreign to hear someone say they want you to feel good. Instead of cowering from it, you faced it head on. You kneeled for a moment, hiking your gown up to your hips before sitting back on your ankles,  exposing yourself to him. Lucius’ jaw clenched at the sight of your naked center, and he drew his hands away from your hips, falling them into fists upon the mattress.

“I wish to watch you as you watch me.”

Without looking away from you, he drew his hand down to his cock, pulling it out from under his tunic. Your eyes grew just a hint. There was no doubt upon him being more well-endowed than others, but it was still different from how you imagined.

Shutting your eyes, you trailed your fingers over your cunt, your thumb playing with your clit. The sounds of Lucius’ smothered grunts, and the skin of his cock on his fingers only added to your pleasure. Digging deeper and moving faster, you felt a coil within your stomach tighten when you opened your eyes and saw as Lucius’ gaze bore into yours.

Light moans escaped your lips as your hips moved with a mind of their own, watching the man beneath you take pleasure from his own hand. It was him chanting your name like a prayer that sent you over the edge. With your eyes shut, the coil within you snapped, and pleasure filled your veins.

Not long after, you felt a warmth coat your nightdress. Opening your eyes, you looked down and saw the white-hot residue of Lucius’ release. Your gaze drew to his cock, still clutched in his hand, yet red with droplets of white running over his knuckles.

You don’t know what possessed you to, but you lowered your mouth down to clean him with your tongue.

“Gods be good!” He huffed, laughing your name.

“What?” You wiped your mouth.

 “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Grinning like the devil, you slid off the bed, walking towards the door. “I hope it’s a pleasant one then.”

He sat up. “Where are you going?”

“To change. You dirtied me as well.” You teased.

“Take one of my tunics from the dresser.”

It almost made you laugh that he didn’t want you to leave for even a second. You opened the top drawer, grabbing the longest tunic you could find before facing him. “Close your eyes.”

He laid on his side, putting a pillow over his head. Many would find it strange how the both of you would see the most intimate parts of yourself while doing one of the most intimate acts together, yet you didn’t want him to see you naked.

But Lucius never thought of it as strange. He knew what you had been through, and never once judged you.

When you were clothed, you slid into bed, wrapping your arms around his body and pressing a quick kiss to the back of his neck.

“You’re a good man, Lucius Verus Aurelius.” You whispered. “I will tell you that until the day you die, or when you finally believe me.”

He squeezed your hand, relaxing into your touch. You never slept so peacefully until that night.

You always had to see him whenever he would touch you so intimately. There would be nights where there was only a single candle in the room either while he caressed the swell of our breasts, or the inside of your thigh as you sat on his lap.

His fingers were too much for you at first, but he never ridiculed you. When you whimpered at the feeling, he retracted them, kissing your eyes. You asked him again to try, and he whispered praises into your hair as the pain from a dry spell soon turned into pleasure.

It was usually at night did these moments of exploration occurred. In the day, the most you would ever do was kiss. That is, until the first time you cut his hair since the discovery of feelings.

“I don’t want to get hair on your floor.” Lucius said as he sat on the floor, leaning his back against the foot of your bed. It was hotter than sin that day. He wore nothing but a loincloth, but that barely did anything to help him from the heat. You wore essentially a thin shift that would usually be under your dress; yet again, because of the heat, that was all you wore.

You sat on the bed, legs draped over his shoulders as you cut his hair. “It’s your floor too. You built the house.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I haven’t slept here for a while now. Besides, I will clean up.”

“I had no idea you favored doing domestic work now.” He turned and pressed a kiss to your knee.

You slapped the back of his head. “Don’t move! I’ll give you a bald spot if you do so again.”

“Yes, my mistress of the house.” He joked.

“You’re horrible.”

“You just told me I was a good man not so long ago.”

“And I can just as easily revoke that title.”

He stayed silent the rest of the time, but not from any underlining anger. Simply from his at ease posture, you knew he was smiling.

He smiled more those days.

When you were finished, you tossed your scissors aside, but Lucius’ hands settled upon your thighs, not allowing you to get up. You scoffed.

“What is it?”

He turned to face you, kneeling up to meet you. “I wish to try something, but only if you wish it as well.”

You rose your brow, but smiled, kissing his nose. “It will be difficult if I do not know what it is.”

Without drawing his eyes away from yours, he slid his hands up your thighs, bringing the bottom of your shift with it. It seemed normal at first, but once he lowered his mouth, your chest tightened.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I want to kiss you there.” His breath caressed your cunt and you mewled at the feeling. “I think you’ll enjoy it, but we don’t have to.”

Your heart changed from beating in fear, to then in anticipation. You loved how he kissed your lips, and every inch of your skin that was not covered, what would it feel like to have his lips there?

Kissing the top of his head, you laid on your elbows, nodding.

“Let me hear you say it.” He nosed the inside of your thigh.

“Yes.” You sighed. “Please.”

He lowered his mouth back down, pressing the lightest of kissed onto your center. You groaned through shut lips, only for them to part open as the hairs of his mustache tickled you whilst he began to lap at your wetness.

Tossing your head back, you sat up, running your hands through his hair, unconsciously rolling your hips to meet his mouth. His groan reverberated through your body, only adding to the pleasure you were feeling.

“Lucius, Lucius,” you babbled his name until it didn’t sound like a word.

His nose bumped against your aching clit the same time his tongue penetrated your cunt. You yelped as that familiar, tightening feeling swept over you. His half-lidded eyes would stare up at you every once in a while, as he would continue to drink from you as if he had been stranded in the desert. Just as you were on the brink of release, you drew him away from you.

“What-what is it?” He huffed. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, pressing your lips to his before scooting further up the bed. With one last breath, you pulled your shift over your head, revealing your bare body to him. His gaze ran over your figure unashamedly.

“Come here.” You beckoned.

He crawled onto the bed and over your body, yet still looked at your face. You took his hand and laid it over your breast. His body ran cold at what was on the side of it. A bite mark.

“He branded me all those years ago.” You confessed. “And it has not left since.”

Geta…

You ran your hand up his chest. “I love you, and I trust you with every part of my body. I need you to know that.”

“I love you.” He echoed, pressing the tenderest of kisses to the mark and you gasped lightly. “I have for so long now; I…I need you.”

“Then have me.”

He sat back on his knees, unwrapping his loin cloth and tossing it to the floor. Precum leaked from his sweltering cock as it stood upright like a pillar. You crawled over, kissing every inch of his face and climbing into his lap. He drew his arms around your waist, his finger tracing circles into the small of your back.

“I don’t know how long I will last.” He puffed heavily. “It’s been so long.”

“I just want you inside of me.” You kissed his jaw, taking his cock into your hand and sinking down onto it. It had been a while for you too, and while you were soaked, it was not enough to completely subside the tightness. “Just…wait.”

“I could die happy if all you wanted was for me to remain still as you’re above me.” He said into your ear.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, sinking your nails into his skin because that was the only way to remind you that he was still there. The further you sunk down on him, the easier and more pleasureful you felt.

“I’m going to move now.” You said into his shoulder, and you did.

Slowly, at first you relished in the quiet slapping of skin and the breath moans leaving both you and Lucius’ lips. He trailed a syrupy line of kisses down your throat until he bowed his head to place them upon your chest.

“Your name,” Lucius said into your skin. “tell me your name.”

You gave him a look as you rolled your hips into his, yet sighed your name.

“Again.” He breathed, latching his lips around the tip of your breast.

You did.

“Again.” He kissed the hollow of your throat.

You leaned into his touch, saying your name a third time.

He repeated your given name, than following it with ‘Aurelias’. Your movements stilled, yet he did not care.

“You are the most cunning woman I have met, and you are my wife.” He stated, never looking away from you. Tears sprang to your eyes when you saw the same for him, and you gave him a messy kiss before resuming faster this time.

After months of being called a name that did not belong to you, especially whenever in the bedroom, Lucius was doing everything to remind you that you were yourself again as you felt pleasure.

It felt as if, after two years, ‘Julia’ was finally gone.

You chanted his name as if it was your favorite prayer, burying your hands in his hair and kissing his lips.

“Lucius, Lucius, Lucius…”

Because, just like you, how long had it been since his true name was uttered whilst in the throes of pleasure?

He moaned into your mouth, holding onto you tighter. You squealed when he rose up onto his knees, latching your legs around his waist and only crying out sharply when your throbbing clit ran across his pubic hair.

“Come on, come on,” he urged into your ear. “I know you can give it to me.”

“Lu-Lu-!” You moaned, running your nails over the thick field of muscles that was his back.

He said your name over and over again, until it was one word that was the end of you.

“Please.”

You came with your vision blinded from the state of euphoria you had reached. Lucius still held you above him even as his legs began to quake, bouncing you on his cock. You felt as though you were suspended in air when his groans stammered, and you felt strings of his cum paint the walls of your cunt.

Slowly, he lowered the two of you onto the mattress, laying you on your back like you were the most precious treasure in the world. You kept your legs around his waist, breathing with him with your chests glued together from your sweat.

“Lucius-.” You began, trying to shift under him.

“-Just,” he grunted. “just another moment. Please.”

How could you deny him? Every kiss he gave was loving as he laid upon you. His cock had grown soft, and even you were aware that you could’ve fallen asleep if you weren’t careful.

When he pulled away from you, you let out an involuntary whine.

“I thought you wanted me to get off you?” He kissed your stomach when he stood up.

You shoved him playfully. “Just clean me up and come back.”

“So controlling.”

Still, he did what you asked, bringing a soaked washcloth from the bathroom and cleaning you. You groaned out of both the cold water hitting your hot skin, and the heat from the air itself.

“We should’ve waited until night.” You whined.

“Why?”

“I’m suffocating from the air outside!”

Lucius hummed, tossing the washcloth aside and looming over you. “Then that forces us to wear nothing today, so that we might cool down.”

You nodded. “Perhaps you aren’t as feeble minded as I thought.”

He settled behind you, tossing an arm over your waist and pulling your back to his chest. Even though his cock pressed against you, the two of you were completely exhausted from the heat of the day’s work, and the heat of what took place only moments before.

The only sound was that of the cicadas singing in the summertime. Sometimes, a breeze or two of wind would bounce the curtain off the window, but for the most part, just the even breathing you shared with Lucius was all you could hear.

Lucius’ mustache rubbed your skin when he placed a kiss to your neck. “What’s going on inside of your mind right now?”

You grinned. “A proper wife would say that I was thinking of you.”

“But that’s not what it is.”

“It’s something that has nothing to do with anything of note.”

He squeezed you. “Spit it out, woman.”

Sighing, you felt a sense of dread in your heart; both for your thoughts, and also how your husband would react. So, you tried your best to explain it.

“Do you even wonder how you will be remembered?” You began. “Spoken from mouths? Written in books? Painted on walls? They’ll remember Lucius, the Lost Son, the Last Gladiator…What will they remember of me, if anything? Rome’s Cleopatra? Her Delight? A whore to the twin emperors? I like to fantasize that they will name me the first woman who sat upon the emperor’s throne, even if it was as the last of its consul. Yet, even if they name me…I will be Julia. The name of a slave, the name I only accepted when he would press me into the bed so roughly. I only survived because I would need to tell myself that he was doing all of it to Julia, not to me.”

It felt quieter in that room, even though the sounds outside did not cease. Lucius gently turned your body towards him, and he stroked your face with the back of his hand.

“You’re crying,” he uttered your name, frowning.

You wiped your eyes, wanting to hide from him. Yet, he did not allow it, pulling your hands away from you and wrapping them around his shoulders.

“Would you wish I remain silent, or share with you what is in my head?” He asked.

“Talk to me.” You answered.

“I never cared of what history would see of me.” He stated. “Even as a boy. I know that we are different in most aspects of life, but I believe it serves no one to wonder away how we will be viewed long after we are dead. I do not care if or what a stranger thinks of me in a lifetime later. I care how Atticus and Diana see me. I care what their children think. Above all, I care of what you see me to be.”

You pressed your head against his. “You’re pigheaded and quite foolish sometimes.”

“And it matters you say that.” He pulled you closer. “Because that is what you will tell others when I pass on.”

“You know I don’t think that is all you are.” You remined him.

“I do.” He nodded. “I will know you for your wit, and your protective nature, and your kindness.”

“I never truly thought of myself as kind.” You gave a pained smile.

“That is how I see you.” He kissed your brow. “And what I will say with my last dying breath.”

You wondered how such a man as himself could exist at the same time you did. A man who hated you prior to everything yet laid with you in bed. A man who treated you with a tenderness you never thought possible.

A man who could be the last person on earth with you, and you would only feel at peace.

You did not need to say anything to him. Simply by the innocent smile that spread across your lips, did he know. You fell into the most comfortable of silences together as you laid naked in the summer heat.

The both of you were lost to time as we all shall be one day.

Perhaps you lived on that farm for the rest of your days, or perhaps you moved to a different land.

Perhaps you had ten children, perhaps you had only one, or perhaps you had none and were content with each other’s company.

Perhaps you died before him, perhaps he died before you, or perhaps you both passed onto the Elysian fields together.

All that truly matters, at the end of all things, is the life the two of you led together, and what you and loved ones remembered the most of it.

[chxnsgirl]

방찬 ─── christmas love

⋆｡ ˚༘ ♫ christmas love - stray kids

♡ pairing ៸៸ idol!chan x fem!reader genre ៸៸ fluff ៸៸ cw ៸៸ none ♡ synopsis ៸៸ you and chan have been friends for a while. this holiday, he chooses to spend it with you. [ semi - proofread ] [ 3.3k words ]

you were incredibly nervous. it wasn’t your first time spending time alone with chris–you had been alone together plenty of times. but tonight seemed different. the way he asked you.. his demeanor was off, but not necessarily in a bad way. he seemed.. nervous. bashful.. you have always had a little crush on him since you started your job working as an intern at jyp. you started a little less than a year ago. thinking back, it was insanity. you started this internship being somewhat aware of stray kids, and now you’re spending the night at chris and jeongin’s dorm on a holiday. it started out with you being starstruck and in awe of them, now you’re best friends with the leader. 

the idea came to chris when he was working a couple weeks ago. he was up late at the studio, working on songs for an upcoming album, when he just couldn’t seem to stop thinking about you. it was about 3am, which he would have thought you’d be asleep. so instead of calling you, he decided to send you a text. you were up, but you weren’t exactly doing anything productive. you were laying on your bed, watching crash landing on you on your laptop. you weren’t surprised that chris was awake, but you were surprised that he decided to text you.

you two texted until around 6am, and finally, christopher had the courage to call you and ask if you wanted to spend the holiday together. he figured since he didn’t have time to go back to australia, and you didn’t have time to go all the way back home to your family either, that the two of you might as well have a ‘friendsmas’. that part didn't exactly catch you off guard, the part that did was when he asked you if you wanted to spend the night christmas eve. you had been to the dorm a few times, even when it was him, changbin, han, and hyunjin living together, but he was always more private and reserved about his personal space. you had only actually been in his room once, and that was the first time you had gone to the dorms. 

you were painfully unaware of how chris truly felt about you. you were the only female friend he allowed at the dorms–and lord knows he has plenty of them. he trusted you. you had seen him at his most vulnerable moments; from stress-induced breakdowns in the studio to his depressive episodes. on top of that, you took such good care of the rest of the members. the day he realized he had feelings for you was when he overheard you consoling jeongin when he wasn’t feeling confident in his voice. you were just so caring and genuine. it was impossible for him not to catch feelings eventually. 

that’s why he needed to make this night perfect. he had everything planned out. the plan was to take you to see seouls christmas lights. since you had only been in the country for less than a year, you had just missed them when you arrived in the spring. after you two walked around, you’d go back to his place. he picked out a ton of your & his favorite snacks to munch on throughout the night. he even got matching onesies to surprise you with, yours being a reindeer onesie and his being an elf. 

he was so excited and so nervous. and you didn't even know it. he didn’t even know how you felt about him either; which made everyone around you get frustrated at times, especially changbin, who was the member you were the second-closest to. you’d never say anything to him directly or initiate anything, in fear of ruining the amazing friendship you two have together. everything was perfect, why change that?

you and chris had finally gotten back to the apartment after walking down a long sidewalk in seoul, marveling at the christmas lights and goofing around. truth be told, the outing ended early because chris noticed that you hadn’t worn your gloves, which resulted in your hands turning bright pink from the chill. it was oddly cute how concerned he was about your warmth, so you didn’t complain much.

while sliding your boots off, you took in the apartment chris and jeongin shared.  it looked the same as it usually did, except there was a white christmas tree in the living room decorated with black and silver ornaments. it was gorgeous, and you wanted to get a better look at it. chris hung your coat next to his before chuckling at your expression. “you like the tree?” he walked with you to the living room as you stared up at it. “it’s so pretty. did you two do this?”

“ah, just me. jeongin was busy with his friends the day i put it up. i thought the white and black fit the vibe of our place more, y’know?” he looked up at the tree as well, satisfied with how pretty it turned out. “it really does.” you smiled up at him, nudging his arm after. “so what do you have planned for us to do here?” 

you stared at the onesies for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip. “you got these just for tonight?” you asked, looking up at him. he stumbled on his words. “uh, well.. yeah?” he cleared his throat after in an attempt to hide his slight embarrassment. “i thought it’d be funny to wear them while watching our favorite christmas movies and making cookies.” his ears turned a dark shade of red as he looked down at you, awaiting your approval, almost seeking it out from any part of your facial expression or body language. your lips curled into a smile as you lifted up the reindeer onesie. “where do i change?” 

he let out a small sigh of relief as well as a chuckle at your acceptance, and gestured to the hallway. “you can use the bathroom. second door on your left.” 

while sitting on the couch in your onesie, you heard light shuffling coming from the hallway. you perked up and there he was, waddling out in his onesie, ears dark red and a goofy, shy smile on his face. his onesie came with an elf hat, which was horribly cute on him. you couldn’t help but giggle at his appearance. “you look.. adorable.” you gestured to the onesie he was wearing. “oh, yeah? adorable hm?” he chuckled as he stood before you, hands on his hips. “stand up, lemme see yours.” 

you did just that, even giving him a little twirl and a slight shake of your bum to show off the tail on the back. he let out his squeaky giggle, clutching his stomach. “ah! i forgot it has a tail.. oh my god.” he let out a string of a few more laughs before finally calming down. “it’s actually really comfy.” you laughed, running your hands on the sleeves. “it looks like it.” he stepped forward and felt your sleeve as well, the material being plush and extremely soft and warm. “oh, you didn’t put your hood on.” he stepped even closer, using both hands to pull the hood of your onesie over your head, making the limp antlers flop around as you moved. he smiled down at you as you stared up at him, admiring how attractive he was—even in a cringey elf onesie. 

“i think you’ve got me beat.” he smiled even wider. “what do you mean?” you adjusted the hoodie so you could see him better. “i mean, you definitely look more adorable.” he laughed and pulled his phone out of the onesie pocket. “we should take pictures.” 

a deep blush ran across your face at his words. maybe he was joking around, maybe he wasnt. your brain couldn’t help but romanticize things like this because, well.. despite the uncertancies gnawing at your mind about him and how he felt about you, you still had hope deep down. secretly wishing he was subtly flirting with you.

after a while of being lazy, catching up with chris, and warming up in front of the electric fireplace, you and chris finally decided to get up and make some christmas cookies. “nothing better than making christmas cookies at 10 p.m., right?” he chuckled, setting the ingredients you needed on the counter. “10’s nothing for you, is it?” you teased, rinsing your hands off in the sink after washing them. you couldn’t help but grin at him, noticing how comfortable he looked in the kitchen, like he belonged there.

chris grinned back and raised a brow. “nah, 10’s light work for me.” he gave you a wink as he pulled open a cabinet and grabbed the cookie cutters, giving you a quick glance as he set them on the counter. his movements were casual, but there was something in the air that made it feel like more than just a simple cookie-making session. you stepped closer, trying to ignore the sudden flutter in your chest as you peered at the ingredients he’d set out. “guess that’s a good thing,” you said. “i'm afraid your insomnia is contagious.”

chris chuckled softly, his voice low. “insomnia.. contagious.. are you hearing yourself?” he teased, tapping a spoon on the counter. he took a step closer, just enough that you could feel his presence, his warmth. “i think you're just making up an excuse to cover up the fact you're so eager to stay up with me.” you met his gaze, biting back a smile as you thought of the many times you'd tried to play it cool in front of him. “you think you know everything, huh?”

“maybe just a little,” he said, his tone playful but with a hint of something more serious behind it. he reached for the flour, brushing past you again as he leaned into the cabinet. the brush of his arm against yours was almost accidental, but the small contact made your heart beat faster. “so,” you began, trying to distract yourself from the slight tension that was building between you, “what’s the secret to making the perfect cookie?” chris looked up at you, eyes twinkling. “the secret is... not telling you,” he said, a grin tugging at his lips. “you’ll have to figure it out yourself.”

“oh, i see how it is,” you replied with a mock pout. “no hints, huh?” chris shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "oh please, you act as if you've been baking all your life." you looked up at him through your eyelashes, a sly grin on your face. he tongued his cheek and nodded, finally looking back down at his hands while they were working. "you see, what you dont know is that i actually bake as a hobby." he said sarcastically, raising his brows and masking his comedic sentence with a semi-serious tone. "oh, is that so?" you handed him the measuring cup, not wanting to be totally useless during this cookie-making endeavor. "mhm. i even bake more than lix, if you can believe that."

you choked back a laugh, pressing your lips together. his lip twitched into the tiniest grin when he heard. "what? don't believe me?"

"no." you snorted, leaning on the counter, your elbow resting on the edge. "but ill take this as a chance to judge your baking skills." he lightly tapped the measuring cup on the bowl and chuckled. he reached for the bag of brown sugar, his face dangerously close to yours once again. "i'll take that as a challenge."

you felt your breath catch in your throat as you tried to keep your cool. he began measuring out the brown sugar, but his movements were slower now, more deliberate. he was playing, testing you, you realized. the air felt thick, and even though you were focused on the cookies, it was hard not to notice how close he was, caught in some quiet game neither of you were willing to admit.

“can i ask you something?” you asked, trying to shift the conversation onto something that didn't make the tension skyrocket. he let out a soft hum, nodding his head as he glanced at you. “sure.” you watched him, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “what made you wanna spend the holiday with me? like.. just me?” your heart dropped as soon as the words left your lips. chris’s stomach whirled as well, trying to think of a way to answer. “well.. neither of us have family here for the holidays.” he began, stirring the ingredients together in the bowl, working carefully. “and, i like being around you.” he added. 

your heart fluttered at his words, but you masked it with a small nod. “i like being around you too. sometimes.” you teased him, nudging his arm lightly. he breathed out a laugh, rolling his eyes. “uh huh.”

a beat of silence passed before he spoke up again. “i dunno, i guess it’s like.. being around you helps me stay calm. i noticed my stresses from work and schedules aren’t as heavy on my mind when you’re around. and.. honestly, this holiday i probably would’ve been working if you said no.” his voice was softer now, and he was avoiding your gaze. “well. how could i pass this up? watching you bake cookies in an elf onesie? i feel like i hit the lottery.” 

“tch, thanks.” his voice was sarcastically monotone as he tapped the spoon on the edge of the mixing bowl.

“all jokes aside, i’m glad i can be that for you. you deserve rest as much as anyone else. no matter how much you try to tell yourself otherwise.” you nudge him, a small, fond smile on your face. 

he didn’t say anything in response, he just smiled shyly, his ears never lightening from their favored shade of pink. 

after indulging in one too many christmas cookies and watching a terribly long christmas movie, you were splayed out on the couch under one of chris’s plush blankets, so warm and so cozy. the ending credits rolled as you both sat there, and chris snuck a glance at you, smiling to himself at how cute you looked bundled up like a little burrito. you looked so comfortable, so sleepy.. but selfishly he didn't want the night to end so soon. 

the ending credits began to roll for the movie, and he grabbed the remote and began to sing along to the song ‘all i want for christmas is you’, standing up and walking around the coffee table toward you, the burrito on his couch. your lips curled into a wide smile as you watched him approach you, singing the lyrics of the song beautifully. you sat up, and he reached his hand out to yours, waiting for you to take it. you raised a brow as you looked at him, and he raised one as well, not moving away until you finally took it. with a sigh, you took his hand and stood up, and he began to dance with you. 

you felt out of place, dancing with chris in his living room, wearing a damn reindeer onesie, but the unease went away when he started twirling you around, making you squeal and his voice break from laughing at you. you couldn’t help but laugh, spinning in chris's arms as he twirled you around. his laughter was contagious, filling the room with warmth and making the silly moment feel surprisingly intimate. the twinkle in his eyes as he grinned at you made your heart race a little faster, the proximity between you both now feeling like a little more than just two friends having fun.

as he pulled you back into him after your spin, your body naturally pressed against his, and for a moment, you both just stood there, caught in the quiet rhythm of the music. his hand on your back felt like a steady anchor, and his other hand gently cupped yours as if he never wanted to let go. without thinking, you both moved closer, the space between you shrinking until it was just the two of you, swaying softly.

you swallowed, suddenly aware of how close his face was to yours. his breath was warm on your skin, his scent—something familiar and comforting—filling your senses. the laughter from earlier had faded, and in its place was a soft tension, an unspoken understanding hanging in the air. "is it weird that i don’t want this night to end?" chris whispered, his voice low and vulnerable, his thumb gently brushing over your hand. his words hit you like a soft wave, and before you could even process them, you felt the same way. the night had felt too perfect, too... easy.

you slowly lifted your eyes to meet his, your breath catching as you saw that same soft expression mirrored in his gaze. he wasn’t just looking at you like a friend anymore, not with that look in his eyes, the one that made you wonder if he was thinking the same thing you were. "yeah," you murmured, your voice quieter than you expected. "me neither."

for a second, neither of you moved. you were both standing there, your heart thundering in your chest as the music played on, filling the silence between you. you could feel the heat from his body, his hand still holding yours with a tenderness that felt like it was testing something—something that had been building all night. chris’s gaze dropped to your lips, and you knew. he wanted to kiss you. the realization made your pulse quicken. you could feel the magnetic pull between you two, and despite the uncertainty that gnawed at the edges of your mind, you couldn’t seem to pull away.

he leaned in slowly, and your breath hitched, your body tensing instinctively. but he paused, just inches from your lips, and in that moment, you saw a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. “is this… okay?” he whispered, his voice barely audible above the music, the question soft but heavy with meaning.

you barely processed the words before you found yourself nodding, your own lips parting slightly as you tilted your head up toward him. “yeah,” you whispered back. “it’s okay.”

and then, finally, he closed the distance.

his lips were warm and gentle against yours, hesitant at first, like he was savoring the moment. it was soft, slow, as though he was afraid it might break if it went too fast. but when your lips moved against his, the world seemed to fade away, and all that mattered was the warmth between you, the sweetness of the kiss, and the overwhelming feeling that you were exactly where you were meant to be. chris’s hand moved from your back to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek, deepening the kiss ever so slightly. you responded without thinking, your arms wrapping around his neck as you kissed him back, the sensation of his lips sending sparks through you.

the kiss deepened, and suddenly you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so alive, so present. everything else—the christmas cookies, the movie, the silly onesie you were still wearing—melted into the background. it was just the two of you, wrapped up in a world that felt warm and right and full of possibility.

when you finally pulled away, your breaths were heavy, your faces still inches apart, your foreheads resting together as you both tried to catch your breath. a shy smile tugged at the corners of chris's lips as he looked at you, and you couldn't help but smile back, the joy and nervous energy mixing into something you hadn’t expected.

“that was…” he trailed off, his voice a little breathless.

“yeah,” you agreed, not quite sure what to say either. but in that moment, words felt unnecessary. you both already knew.

and when chris pulled you back into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head, you finally allowed yourself to relax. the night wasn’t over yet.

please do not copy my work. see pinned for guidelines and requests.

[323cutie]

4:44 am. | jeong yunho

fluff. 500 words.

a/n heyyyy I miss yunho so fucking bad

You wake up almost immediately.

The touch is familiar, known. Hands gently rubbing your shoulders, a soft nuzzle into your cheek. Instantaneous. Yunho is home, reigniting your body with consciousness. You think you’d be able to tell it was him by the sound of his footsteps, the pattern of his little snaps when he walks into the room.

You make a noise somewhere between a grunt and a yawn morphed by the smile you can’t hold back, turning around to at least pretend you don’t know who’s waking you up this late at night (or maybe early in the morning?).

In the low light coming through the cracks in your blinds and the soft blue glow from your nightlight in the corner, Yunho looks beautiful. Soft, and tired, and yours to finally hold again. His hair is messy and you recognize the hoodie he’s wearing as one he’s had forever, complete with a dot of the pomegranate juice you accidentally stained it with a few years ago. He smiles when he sees you’re awake, eyes so round and full of fondness it makes you want to cry.

“I’m home,” he whispers in the dark, and your hands trace up his arms until you’re pulling him close down to you, burying a hand in his hair and sighing at the weight of him, at the feeling of his arms circling around you.

“Welcome back,” you answer back, letting him maneuver the two of you in bed until he's on his back for you to lay on top of him. You catch sight of the digital clock on your nightstand – nearing five in the morning. Yunho opens his arms for you and you practically dive in, listening to the timber of his chuckle through his chest. “Came straight from the airport?”

Your voice is muffled by his shoulder, but he understands just fine. One of his hands rubs at your back while the other plays with your hair. “Yeah, had the manager drop me off,” he murmurs, lifting your head up so he can hold your face in his hands. “I missed you so much, honey.”

It makes you melt. You missed him too, so terribly, the kind of thing that settles in your bones and can’t be helped. “Me too,” you say, letting him look at you while you do the same. It’s all you can say short of pouring your heart out for him. Undying devotion, care stretched so wide it takes up your entire body. Vanilla candles and matching rings and the first day of spring. I miss you, I love you, forever. You hope he understands.

His eyes are full of stars. You think he knows.

You lean forward and press the softest kiss to his lips. He reciprocates immediately, like always, just happy to feel you against him. He practically melts in your hold, sighing like your kiss lifts all of his worries. It’s innocent, and sweet – you’ll have more time for the heavy stuff later.

For now, Yunho’s home. And you love him.

[inkdrinkerworld]

season 11 spencer after he bulks up a little with his 3 piece suits and broad shoulders but he still has a baby face is so special to me.

i know he gives the best cuddles and he could talk me off a literal bridge with his sweet voice

Ugh when he comes out of prison I’m just 🤤🤤🤤 mention of reader having had a stomach bug but it's just a passing comment.

“What’s with that face?” You're laying in bed, in one of Spencer's boxers resting low on your hips and your sports bra that expose his favourite parts of you..

"I'm tired and you woke me up early with no kiss, Spencer." You try for as petulant as you feel, pouting all the while your boyfriend smiles from the doorway with a mug of coffee in his hands.

"I asked you to come join me outside for breakfast, the vitamin d will help with your cabin fever."

You and Spencer have been at home for the last couple of days because you had caught a very nasty stomach bug and Spencer had insisted on helping with the case from home. He still isn't ready to leave your side yet.

"That's no reason to begrudge the love of your life a good morning kiss." You roll off the bed, snatching your latest obsession- crossword puzzle books- off the nightstand and stomping to your boyfriend.

"Good morning," he says quietly, his free hand settling on your hip, his thumb dragging along the stretchmarks and moles that litter the skin there. You tip your chin up on your own accord, your nose bumping Spencer's as you eagerly reach for his face in a kiss.

Spencer leads the kiss easily, tongue and teeth exploring your mouth slowly before he pulls away. Your eyes are still closed as you chase his lips making him chuckle.

"Hi," you say breathlessly, your hands dropping from his face to his shoulders. "What did you make for breakfast?"

Spencer slots his fingers through yours, leading you to the kitchen to collect a tray filled with both your favourites.

"A bit of everything, c'mon sweetheart." Spencer sits first on the porch swing first, holding the tray with one hand before reaching for you with his other one.

You let yourself be arranged in his lap, your legs over his, your cheek to his shoulder and the tray over both your laps. Spencer smells like home, lavender and clean cotton and warm like he's made especially for spring time.

"You can have your coffee after, it's not recommended to have it on an empty stomach." He cuts up a crepe and tops it the way you like- with fruit syrup and whipped cream and gives you a bit before you can muster the energy to complain.

With a content sigh, you chew quietly, opening up your crossword book and tapping your pen on your lips. "What's a seven letter word for, 'devotion or tenderness.'" you ask Spencer as he hands over your mug to you.

You're so focused on the book, that you miss the way he looks at you, all the keenness and devotion bared in his eyes and the way they soften as the answer comes to him.

"Cherish," he kisses the crown of your head as you scribble, a smile on his face as you lean down and press a sticky kiss to his wrist.

[taegimood]

alright i need y’all to buckle up and hear me out cuz this is gonna be a long one…. bunny hybrid!soobin.

bunny hybrid!soobin w his long white ears that flop down instead of standing up just like his chikai chibi hat ❤️‍🩹

bunny hybrid!soobin who’s soooooooooo shy and nervous when you first bring him home… nervous twitching little tail and warm cheeks, bad at making eye contact, shifting awkwardly in one spot in the living room cuz it’s not home to him yet 🤧 also easily startled but you come to realize later that that’s just part of his personality so you try not to sneak up too much even on accident <3

he’s SO HUGE but such a baby !!! it takes him a while to warm up to you but not in any nasty way, just shy and hesitant, and you always give him space while making it known that the option to join you or be close to you is always open to him and eventually he starts to take it 🥺

at first he would sit stiff as a board on the complete opposite end of the couch from you LMAO but eventually over time he gets comfortable coming closer, until eventually his favorite thing becomes laying his head in your lap while you stroke his ears or sitting on the floor by your feet and leaning into your legs (but don’t point it out to him or he’ll get too shy and retreat).

i know that for rabbits, especially males, there’s not really a specific mating season because they literally will just want to breed any time of the year (lol rip 24/7 horny soobin) — but for hybrids, since they are.. hybrids, literally.. then let’s say that they do go into a regular heat, and let’s say that soobin’s is coming fairly soon after you first take him home.

only a month or two has passed so even though he’s comfortable with you now, he’s still a little reserved and shy with certain things, and so for his sake you’re dreading the coming conversation as you sit him down and gently try to bring up the topic of a breeding partner. the way he would get SO red, tail twitching and leg bouncing in his seat.. he’s refusing to make eye contact as he fiddles with his fingers in his lap and stammers “i-it’s okay, i-i don’t need one..” ears drooping forward to shadow over his face cuz he’s too busy looking down at his hands 😖

you’re gently trying to convince him that he does need one or he’ll be miserable, that it’s totally normal and expected and most people find breeding partners for their hybrids every season so it’s nothing to be ashamed of !!! you say most people because the other percentage are the ones who let their hybrids use them instead COUGH HACK but he doesn’t need to know that

you try to explain that there are services and programs just for this reason and it would be so easy peasy, just for a couple weeks, but soobin is NAWT HAVING IT as he suddenly springs up from his seat and darts out of the room — having gotten progressively redder and more jittery over the course of your attempted convincing.

he’s never bad or disobedient, would normally never run away like that while you’re in the middle of talking to him, but he just got SO unbearably embarrassed and shy,,,,, not to mention: the guilty filthy shameful (in his mind) secret that he has…… and that is, he actually doesn’t want it to be anyone else but you.

he feels safe with you, he trusts you, he’s already bonded to you more than you realize and part of the reason why he got so freaked out and ran away was because all his mind kept going back to was BREEDING YOU INSTEAD 😩 and little do the two of you know, but all the adrenaline from his little freak out ended up kickstarting his heat EARLY and when you find him later in his room after giving him some space for the day, he’s feverish, sweating and whimpering and writhing around uncomfortably in his blankets, hugging one of your sweatshirts to his face as he breathes in your scent. (a sweatshirt that you thought you’d lost, but turns out he had secretly taken for himself).

“binnie!!!” you’re rushing to him immediately cuz you’re so worried but that was a mistake or was it because the second you touch him, the second your scent fully wafts over him, there’s no going back. eyes shooting open and pupils blown out as they lock onto yours, and the next thing you know you’re face down in his blankets as he’s pounding you from behind, chest pressed flush against your back as his hips slam against your ass over and over and over again and he’s whining and whimpering into your ear, telling you how he didn’t want anyone else, didn’t want some bunny girl, he just wanted you, and he keeps apologizing but he can’t stop 🤧

you can finally admit that you fucking love it though because surprise surprise, you ALSO had some filthy secrets of your own and there was a part of you already that sometimes wondered what it’d be like to let him use you instead; on nights when it was hard to sleep and you’d lay awake in bed thinking of his big, gentle frame and pillowy lips, his soft eyes that contrasted so harshly with his strong hands and the outline of that huge cock in his pants that you tried so hard to pretend you never noticed.

it was especially difficult on nights when you could hear him from his designated room, his soft moans and little gasps as he would touch himself that never left your head — eventually causing even your own hand to wander into your panties with a mind of its own.

the kicker was that one time when you were relaxed together on the couch petting his ears as usual and thought, would he like it if i scratched behind them too?

….liking it is an understatement, because the moan that he let out as a result was enough to cut the evening short, him hiding away in his room from sheer embarrassment while you didn’t catch a wink of sleep that night, because all you could think was: i want to hear it again.

for a while after that he would get jumpy when you tried to touch his ears and you were worried you did something wrong to make him scared of you or something, but in reality he was just scared of HIMSELF and was convinced that he’d have to dig a hole and die of embarrassment if he ever moaned like that in front of you again. but don’t worry, the distance didn’t last long cuz he’s just too weak for you and can’t resist your nightly head pets <3

but i digress;;; basically the both of you just wanting each other so bad and not even knowing it, both feeling so guilty and shameful over it until now. now.. right now, as his big cock is buried so deep inside of you that you can’t think of anything else even if you wanted to; right now as he’s fucking you with so much desperation that the bedframe is gashing the paint right off of the rattling wall.

there wasn’t even the chance for clothes to fully come off, but you have plenty of time, and after that the two of you end up barely leaving his room for his entire one or two week heat other than for necessity because you know what they say about rabbits….

as fucked out of your mind as you are, you take such good care of him between waves with what energy you have left — placing wet cloths over his forehead and wiping the sheen of sweat from his neck and collarbones to ease his fever, trying to clean up as much cum and mess as you can before the next round hits, keeping his damp hair from his dazed, half-lidded eyes that watch you so gratefully, poor baby so vulnerable and exhausted between the waves of frenzy… and after everything’s finally over and it passes, he treats you like a FUCKING QUEEN trying to make up for battering you to death with his monster bunny cock all that time <3 you literally Cannot Walk

side note moablr is always talking abt soobin w a breeding kink but imagine BUNNY SOOBIN ???!!!!! holy shit logically he knows it’s not possible to get you pregnant but THAT DOESN’T MEAN HE WON’T TRY 😫 balls deep inside you babbling on and on about how he’s gonna breed you so good and fill you with his babies and he’ll do so well for you he promises - cums BUCKETS, thick and sticky and so much everywhere but cough anyway this is a whole other can of worms

after that first heat your relationship is obviously different but you’re always willing to give soobin whatever he needs. you learn very quickly that those pretty bunny lips have an oral fixation, always wanting something to suckle on; good thing you have tits !! and fingers 🥰

you’re laying on the couch watching a movie and he’ll walk over, just hovering hesitantly, fiddling with his hands, bunny lips pursed as if he wants to say something but isn’t… you immediately know what he wants and sigh with an endearing smile, murmuring “c’mere,” and opening your arms to him. he grins shyly and immediately flops on top of you, nestling into your arms, nuzzling his face into your chest before gradually his lips start suckling lightly at the part of your breasts he can get at, and then he’s pawing at your tank top, eventually getting it pushed down enough that your tits are free and he just lays there sucking and licking at your nipples for ages while you watch your movie, the occasional little moan slipping past his lips as his hips shift against you.

eventually you have to literally pull him off of you when you get too sensitive and he’s so whiny and sad. sighing and running your fingers over his lips instead; caressing your thumb over his pouty bottom lip, swollen from all the suckling, his glazed eyes watching you in anticipation, and as you slowly push your thumb past his lips he immediately moans and obediently begins to suck on that too, eyes sliding shut as his hot tongue swirls around it.

which brings me to soobin sucking on your fingers with barely-open eyes as you ride him — he’s so blissed out, fucked out look on his face as he drools around your fingers, hands weakly reaching for your plush thighs, your waist, your tits; just so fucking content as he lays there and takes everything you give him, moaning around your fingers with half-lidded eyes and his soft pretty bunny ears splayed out on the pillows, framing his handsome face <3

soobin always being too shy to go full out cock monster on you unless he’s desperate for it, so you like to purposefully get him to that point by cockwarming him, chilling on the couch not letting him move as you sit and read your book or play on your phone; he’s trying so hard to be a good boy and wait for your direction, but with the way your warm pussy keeps tightening around him he just can’t take it anymore and desperate frenzied soobin is unlocked as he flips you over and fucks you into the couch cushions like a madman.

and a final thought for now is tugging lightly on his ears or his tail whenever he’s getting too ahead of himself and it only makes him more of a whiny mess; he’d spend the whole day with his mouth buried between your thighs if he could, so tug on his soft ears and it gets him all teary-eyed as you’re holding his face back mere centimeters from your cunt that he wants to bury his face in so badly </3

if your nipples are too sensitive at the moment to handle his oral fixation or if your hands are too busy doing something else, then you can always find soobin between your legs, mouthing at your pussy and humping the air or the couch as his little whimpers send delicious vibrations up through your core.

aaaaanyway.. i love hybrid aus man. just soft sweet bunny soobin who loves and trusts you so much and always wants to be inside you, close to you, connected to you in some way. just so so happy to be yours ❤️‍🩹

p.s… i may or may not have hybrid thoughts for other members as well 👀

[hardlyinteresting]

love's never lost when perspective is earned

Jake Seresin x Reader

“The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease forever to be able to do it.” Peter Pan, J.M Barrie

Peter by Taylor Swift S P E Y S I D E by Bon Iver Big Black Car by Gregory Alan Isakov Smother by Daughter

Warnings: The reader is referred to as she/her, with no physical description, Parentification of eldest siblings, bad first date experience, gets a little spicy towards the end (no smut), (please let me know if you'd like me to tag anything please)

This one shot was written for @arcane-vagabond Fairy Tale writing challenge with the inspiration of Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie, and the use of the word Scintilla.

Word Count: 6.7K Masterlist | talk to me about Jake and Tyler

She remembers that summer wrapped in a golden glow. Back when hot, humid days were spent bathed in the sun’s vivid orange. Their fingers were sticky with jammy pie fillings, stolen from his mama’s kitchen. Cold water from the garden hose always tasted better after a day of chasing themselves around the properties. 

What do you want to be when you grow up?” Jake had asked her as they lay in the grass behind his house. 

“I haven't decided yet,” she told him matter of factly, “But, I’m gonna have a nice house, and I’m going to go far away from here”. 

“I'm gonna be a pilot,” Jake said, “And I’ll fly wherever I want”.

She knew he was entirely serious, even as a little boy he’d never failed to accomplish what he put his mind to. The gentle waiver is his voice as his statement teetered around the edges of his true feelings and fears. “I wish I could fly away,” She told him, watching the clouds shift across the bright blue sky above them. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take you with me,” Jake promised. And back then, a promise had felt like enough. 

They were seven; her shins were always bruised from climbing trees and tackling the Seresin boy during their daily football scrambles; his cheeks were always sunburnt, and he lied every time his mother asked if he had put sunscreen on. In many ways, she thinks those two months running after Jake Seresin had been both the peak and the plateau of her childhood wonder. 

September meant returning to school; finishing supper and homework before being allowed out to play, and with the autumnal turn crept in early sunsets and earlier curfews. In November, her stepdad moved in, and her mother told her to expect a little brother in the spring. The days of scraped knees and make-believe slipped away before the winter frost set in. 

When he thinks about her now, he pictures her laughing like she did when they were ten years old. He misses the days when she had the freedom to forget herself. 

At ten years old Jake Seresin couldn’t understand why his friend wasn’t as fun as she used to be. He watched from his kitchen window as she sat on the front porch with her little brother, settling next to her and feeding him from tiny jars of baby food. At a distance, it'd be easy to mistake her for any other girl playing make-believe with one of her dolls. But Jackson wasn't a doll, he was fussy and gassy, and he needed to be fed and put down for his naps before she had a moment of spare time to spend with her pal Jake. 

Her little brother had been followed by a new baby girl two years later. Tire marks on the dirt driveway highlighted where her stepfather’s truck should have been most days. Jackson had finally gone down for a nap but Olivia had been teething and her wailing could be heard from a mile away. 

“What do you want to do today?” Jake asked her as he made his way up her porch steps to sit next to her on the stoop. “I want to fly away,” she told him. 

Without a second thought, he grabbed her hand as he took off running, down the stairs, across the lawn and into the field behind the house. The long grass tickled at their ribs as they ran as fast as possible, their arms outstretched on either side of them. 

Circling, and jumping, hooting and hollering they made their way across the flat land with boisterous laughter bubbling from their lips. By the time they stumbled to a stop at the fence line their breath came to them in quiet gasps, their cheeks warmed by the exertion of their activity. 

The sound of his pulse fell in time with her carefree giggles as she twirled around mimicking some kind of bird. Had it not been for the physical boundary of the wire fence he thinks they could have kept running forever, the promise of freedom they didn’t yet understand beneath their wings. In that moment he knew he’d chase that feeling for the rest of his life. 

At sixteen she felt more like a substitute parent than she did a teenage girl. Her mind and her soul had aged beyond her years and stayed wrapped in a youthful vessel. School had become an escape from the responsibility she felt at home. While Olivia and Jackson clambered onto the school bus excited for first and second grade, she climbed into the passenger seat of Jake Seresin’s restored F-150. Each morning he'd pass her a wrapped sandwich made in his kitchen with his mother's fresh-baked bread. A replacement for the meal he knew she sacrificed to divide the last of the breakfast cereal between her siblings. He filled her with servings of farm butter and homemade jam, or ham and cheese. Their silent dialogue in brushing their knuckles during the exchange, as he always chose to ignore how she saved half for her lunch later in the day. 

Pulling into the parking lot at school she had been keenly aware of the way the other girls looked at her as she walked hand in hand with Jake; the glares shot her way when he kissed her cheek as they parted ways to head to their classes.

Their jealousy rolled off them in waves, and she heard how they spoke about her in the locker room after gym class. Whispers about his gorgeous green eyes and boyish charm. What could the hottest guy in school possibly want from the strange girl in her secondhand clothes and studious persona? Surely he'd have more fun with a girl who wanted to party. 

It was true. In the span of one summer, he'd grown 6 inches, towering over her now. His shoulders broadened. The lanky awkward limbed boy she'd known in her childhood grew stronger and more defined as he learned better how to pull his weight on his family’s farm. His masculine stature and maturity softened only by his flushed cheeks, and childlike grin. 

And yes, he snuck beers from his father’s garage fridge and did handstands for ovations at parties hosted by the school football team. An absolute joy to be around. To know Jake Seresin was to love Jake Seresin, but didn't know him the way she did.

 They didn't know he was terrified of thunderstorms until he was 12. They weren't there when he split his pants open trying to climb over a fence when they were 9. They had never had the privilege of listening to him read aloud from all his books about aircraft; his 11-year-old fingers tracing the letters as he sounded out the big words, the fear of being held back in 5th grade hanging over his head. 

They had never held him as he tore into himself. The golden boy, raised in the shadow of an older brother who hadn’t lived long enough for him to remember; so deeply loved, but not enough to fill the ache in his parent’s hearts. 

No one in those school halls would ever be able to tell the difference between his happiest days, and the smirk he plastered on always aiming to be better than what he believed himself to be. 

He was so stubborn and far more clever than he ever let himself sound; she scolded him almost daily as he tried to shrug off his homework. “You'll need math and science if you ever want to fly a jet,” she would remind him, accepting the glass of sweet tea he offered her. Their textbooks and notes would lay spread across his kitchen table while Jackson and Olivia occupied themselves with blank paper and wax crayons, offering Jake scribbled drawings of airplanes, “wow! That's amazing, thank you,” he'd say every time. 

She hadn't asked Jake to worm his way into her soul, and yet even now she knows some part of her soul belongs deeply to him. Their games of tag had slowly become time spent talking about their parents and watching the clouds; their hands intertwined between them as they listened to each other's dreams and desires for the future. 

And on the nights when his life just didn’t seem to fit quite right, he’d tap on her window, willing her to join him in the bed of his truck a couple of miles from their homes; and she’d remind him who he was. The bright boy with a heart of gold, and a laugh that reminded her of everything good in the world. She’d rest her head on his chest, his fingertips tracing aimless shapes across her back, as she convinced him he was more than a collection of hand-me-down dreams. 

His eighteenth birthday crept up to him before passing in a blur of candlelight and buttercream icing. His mother cried in the kitchen when she excused herself to ‘take care of the dishes’. His father clapped him on the shoulder. Their two sets of hazel-green eyes met as the older man offered a nod.  The action itself did not speak to a relationship of closeness or specific affection, but still, it managed to convey a message of approval, apology, and love too difficult to speak. 

She had knocked on the door shortly after dinner had been cleared from the table, the remaining half of his birthday cake being ushered into the refrigerator under a cling wrap film. Shivering in the night air, her hands clutched a package of brown paper with a shiny blue ribbon, his name scribbled in her careful writing. Quickly, he’d pulled her into the house greeting her with a kiss as deeply passionate as she deserved. “Happy birthday,” she’d whispered, pressing the gift she’d brought into his hands. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” he’d told her. “I wanted to,” she insisted. With steady hands, he unwrapped the box. His question was silent, but the shocked expression on his face must’ve conveyed enough for her to be able to answer him anyway. “It’s the one from the antique store,” she grinned, “Mister Abbot let me pay for it in instalments”. He tipped the brass nautical compass into the palm of his hand, staid in his evaluation of both the physical and emotional weight of the gift. “This is too much,” he spoke after a moment. 

Her eyes went wide, her smile dropping. “I love it,” he was immediate in his attempt at reassurance, “but, you’re saving for school. I don’t want you spending your money on me, darlin’”. He tried to pass the compass back to her, a woebegone ponderosity settling in his stomach at the very idea of rejecting any part of her. Insistent, yet patient, she curled her finger over his. The digits were so much smaller than his own, cracked and raw from washing dishes and cleaning tables at the local diner. The painful reminder of how hard she’d been working to climb her way out of her own life. “I want you to keep it. Selfishly,” she said, “I want you to always be able to find your way back to me”. How could he have argued with that? 

Politely, she’d popped into the kitchen to see his mama, accepting a Tupperware of cake slices to take home for the kids to enjoy. His father met them at the door as Jake shrugged on his denim jacket. “Where are you kids off to?” he asked out of curiosity more than any concern. “Just going for a drive,” Jake told him, slipping his keys into his pocket. “Don’t let him get you into any trouble, ya hear?” he warned her with a teasing grin, the humour evident in his voice. “Yes sir,” she had agreed easily, knowing Mr Seresin’s penchant for faux sternness in the moments between his genuine stoicism. Seemly satisfied to see her smile grow, he had turned to Jake with an immediate pivot back to his natural sternness, “You make sure you get her home at a reasonable time. It’s a school night”. Jake’s compliance echoed her own, with no room for jest, “Yes sir”. 

Parked in their usual spot, at the edge of a cleared field he wrapped layers of blankets around her shoulders, before settling down next to her. Their biggest dreams breathed between them and the night stars. “I love you,” he said. The statement was resolute, and immovable in its honesty. “I love you too, Jake,” she told him. Her words were spoken like a promise she desperately wanted to keep. 

“When we graduate, I'll drive us across the country,” he tells her, “I'll buy us a house. You can go to school and I'll fly”. 

“It’s a nice dream, baby,” she says. 

Their drive home is silent. 

She spent her nineteenth birthday sleeping in his childhood bedroom. He hadn't been home in months but the sheet still smelt like him. She scraped her knees climbing up the trellis to his window, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She’d laughed to herself examining the superficial wounds, enjoying the familiar bite of nostalgia. Memories of her childhood long since passed left tears at the corners of her eyes. Near manic laughter faded into a melancholy exhaustion. 

Her eyes focused on the small book collection Jake had managed over the years. They had all been perfectly aligned in their homes on his bookshelf; set in alphabetical order by author. His need for structure despite his free spirit had been amusing until it became mildly concerning. Routine, crafted to satisfy the need to stay completely distracted from an overwhelm of feelings he had always been sure he didn’t have the capacity to express. The hope in her heart had always been that he might learn to hone his particular brand of presentiment. He’d always been so rough-and-tumble, so hard to worry after; determined to never let the mask slip as he raced through life with a smile. 

1400 miles away she ached to be beside him; so lonely in her knowledge of him. She worked to comfort herself by tracing the titles on the spines of the books he’d left behind. Over and over. Over and over. With blurring vision and an unfocused mind, she slipped into a well-deserved sleep. The sun streamed so gently through the window of Jake’s room. A touch of light tugging her from her slummer had been a welcome change from the jarring wake-up call she had at home. Two siblings who had yet to figure out how to make themselves breakfast without bickering or clattering plates. The smell of fresh coffee and pancake batter wafted up from downstairs. 

The bedroom door squeaked as she opened it, and underfoot the floorboards in the old farmhouse creaked, each step down the staircase punctuated with the sonance of more than a hundred years of life. In the Seresin house, the noises reminded her of the generations who had come and gone, it was easy to imagine the lives that had been lived within the walls. Across the yard, the similar shifts and groans of her childhood home echoed like ghostly calls; the whispers warning of a life liable to be wasted if she stuck around. 

“Good morning, Sweetheart,” Mrs Seresin smiled, setting an extra spot at the kitchen table. His mother had always been the kindest person she’d known. Despite the undisputable reality that her son’s girlfriend had all but broken into her home, she welcomed her with open arms, asking if she wanted blueberries in her pancakes. 

The longer they went without mentioning the elephant in the room the easier it became for her to slouch a bit in her seat, appreciating each bite of the breakfast that had been offered to her. Nineteen years of being in rooms out of necessity rather than desire had made it difficult to trust other’s interest in her well-being.

 Feeling her shoulders drop in relief left her feeling something like a stray cat brought in to shelter from the storm; glad to accept Mrs Seresin’s kindness, but uneasy all the same. She had grown used to being weary of tenderness and generosity; always waiting to hear the conditions of the beneficence. 

Sipping her coffee, Mrs Seresin smiled over the lip of the mug. “If you want to stay a little longer, you could help me go through some of Jake’s old clothes. Some of them would probably fit Jackson now”. Her words reached like an olive branch across the table, and for a moment she understood that perhaps the older woman wasn’t just benevolent for the sake of it, not on this day at least. With her only living child out of the house she had been lonely in her need to mother someone, and glad just for the company as unorthodox as the circumstances may have been. She’d been glad to learn that some glint of selfishness lingered in everyone, and in a strange turn, it only made her trust the woman more. 

She hadn't expected a pile of folded sweatshirts to make her cry, and yet in a blink of an eye, she found herself sobbing. A flicker of hurt rushed through her with the realization that some things will always matter more to her than they do to anyone else. Just another piece of clothing to Jake, another part of her task for the day to his mother. But she was holding the world in her hands. 

She remembers that sweatshirt well, red and worn out by time, always just a bit too tight in the shoulders, the seams stretching at the sleeves. He was wearing it the night he picked her up from her first date.

Bobby Dunbar had been two years older than her, and had no idea of the meaning of the word ‘no'. She left him alone in the movie theatre after he'd tried to creep a hand up her skirt for the second time. With a quick call from the closest payphone, Jake was on his way to pick her up without questions. 

Together, they drove out of town and past their homes the sun dipping down below the seemingly endless horizon. Overhead the stars had begun to make themselves appreciable against the backdrop of the darkening sky. Parked, they lay in the bed of the truck looking up at the sky ahead. He took care to trace the constellations for her, naming them as he went. In the meantime, her fingertips copied the shapes with invisible lines across his chest. The well-loved red sweatshirt was soft beneath her cheek. 

He kissed her for the first time that night. Not her first kiss, but the first one that mattered. Jake always had this ability to make her world stop spinning, even if just for a moment. Sitting on the edge of his bed sobbing into the sweater she wanted nothing more than to be near him, to hear him tell her everything was going to work out for them in the end.

“I got my scholarship,” she told Mrs. Seresin, “I'll start in the fall, and I'll be able to live on campus”. 

“That's amazing news sweetheart,” her affirmation, so much like her son’s. 

“It's a lot farther for Jake to drive. I won't be here to check on Jackson and Olivia. My mo--”

“They'll be alright. It's high time you live your dream, honey”. 

At nineteen years old, she struggled to understand that sometimes the beginning feels like the end. A pit growing in her stomach, she clutched the bags of hand-me-down clothes as she headed home. The sky above was dotted with the same stars Jake had taught her about years ago, she stood still for a moment trying to remember the feel of his lips, or the comfort of his hand in hers, but only felt the cool evening breeze.

Twenty-one felt like wearing a costume. Joining the Navy. Getting good grades. Helping on the farm whenever he had an ounce of free time. Being a good son, being a good boyfriend. He was playing dress-up in a life that wasn’t built for him, and yet he found himself so desperate to play the part. 

The first few months away had been excruciating. Most nights he chugged Pepto-Bismol before going to bed, hoping that the tearing feeling in his chest was just heartburn, and not just his soul stretching across four states. It had been the longest they’d ever been separated; smashing the previous record of the one week he spent with his aunt and uncle when he was ten. 

He won’t blame her for the divide that grew between them, but he knows that the ache in his chest cracked into a chasm sometime after she moved onto her college campus. 

The commute to see her was longer, his back was stiff, and his eyes were tired after driving hours, and crisscrossing state lines. The time they spent together was almost exclusively spent sleeping or skipping around their desperate need to return to what they once were, all while refusing to give up their dreams.

 Two years into her degree he was exhausted. On base, his bed was assembled for practicality, not for comfort. Hard, uneven mattress and nights spent cold beneath the covers without the warmth of her body tucked against him. His bunkmates all snored, and the hustle and bustle of those still working during his allotted sleeping hours kept his mind alert even as his body dosed. In her dorm room, her duvet was plush and cozy, her pillows smelt like her shampoo, and she snuggled as close to him as physically possible on the nights he managed to make it to her. But her roommate was nosy and made it almost impossible for him to love on his girlfriend. Unable to touch her as freely as he yearned to-- and even worse, unable to speak as freely as he needed to, his feelings threatened to choke him. Lost without the level of communication that had become their life preserver for years, he felt as though he was drowning. 

At twenty one he asked his father for his grandmother’s engagement ring. A family heirloom he’d always known he’d propose with one day. He would make good on the promises he made. They would get married and he’d buy them a house-- he had already managed to save quite a bit. It was not a lack of love that broke them, but perhaps an excess of it. A shared desperation to do more, and be better; both of them hell-bent on clawing their way out of the ruts they’d found themselves stuck in. And with so much to prove it had been impossible to climb without letting go of each other. 

He was down on one knee when his heart was ripped from his chest. For a moment he felt it was impossible to breathe. His mind was silent, too stunned to think and too confused to speak. She was still shaking her head when he finally found the strength to look up at her again. “No,” she said. “I thought--”

“I’m sorry-- I can’t. I won’t. It’s not fair,” she told him. Certainly not fair, he thought desperate to understand. But when had life ever been fair? “I can’t,” she repeated. He watched, hopeless, as she shrunk in on herself. The bright, brilliant girl he’d spent more than half his life loving shied away from him, hiding behind a shame he couldn’t find a source for.

As he slowly made his way back to his feet, with the ring box shoved back into his coat pocket, she spoke again. “I think it would be better if we spent some time apart”. That he had not been expecting, and the words nearly had him keeling over; a brutal blow that knocked the air from his lungs. He found himself helpless, unable to do anything but nod. All his fight sat on the tip of his tongue, pinched between his teeth, betrayed by his pain, and misunderstanding. I’m sorry, he wanted to say. For anything. For everything. But the words never came out. “I’m sorry,” she wept as she ushered him out of her dorm room. 

With one hand, and no force he held the door frame for a moment, one last longing look at the girl he knew he’d love forever. “One day we’ll be enough for each other again”. He hoped that was true. 

She carries a spark of regret in her chest, it grows when she thinks of him, and it shrinks when she remembers she freed him too. She thinks now that her denial of Jake Seresin may have been hasty. Fifteen years older, and with more perspective than she had at twenty-one, she thinks their lives could have been different if she had been brave enough to talk things out. 

Her fear of stagnation had been her only motivation for so much of her life. His proposal had been on the surface a desperate attempt to cling to a bond they had begun to outgrow. And while his intentions at their core had been pure, getting married would not have saved their relationship. She had only begun to live for herself, and he still didn’t understand that his life was his own. Their marriage would have only served as a new way to masquerade and play pretend; years of running away from the fears that kept them both up at night. He would have grown to resent her inability to live without planning, and she would have hated his unintended absenteeism. Being married would not have kept his side of the bed warm, nor would it have given him any new ability to quell her anxieties. 

She still thinks of him often. From her apartment on a clear day her view of the sky seems to span for miles and miles. She pictures him up there, carving through the clouds with the dedication and precision she’s always known he’d be capable of. She imagines him happy, living his dream. She hopes he’s proud of himself, and she prays that he knows that she’s proud of him too. 

Sometimes, she lets herself wonder if he ever settled down; offered his grandmother’s ring and his heart on his sleeve to some other lucky girl. She’s tried to move on herself a few times, but never made it close to feeling like she was in love. The last guy had been a year ago now, he was nice enough, handsome, had a good job, and a good sense of humour. On paper he was flawless. He’d take her out for dinner, and walk her to her door. Sometimes he spent the night. He bought her flowers, and held her hand. But on one too many occasions she felt inexplicably lonely sitting next to him. He complained that she wasn’t any fun. She struggled to explain the sense of responsibility she’d never been able to shake. She asked him about his dreams. He never seemed to have any. 

And so the hint of any spark that had been there fizzled away into nothing. 

She tells herself she’s happier on her own and decides to keep moving forward, ignoring the cracking of her heart. She uncorks a bottle of wine, dancing alone in her kitchen, looking out at the vast evening sky and the setting sun. As much as she enjoys the view from her rental, she’s been in California long enough that it might be worth buying into the housing market. Nothing fancy, but something she can truly call her own. She’s been making good money for a while now, and her siblings have made it through college themselves. Jackson moved to New York with his sights set on being an architect. Olivia moved to Austin and became a nurse. Her mother hasn’t bothered to call in ages. Her shoulders relax without the added pressure of caring for others. For the first time in a very long time, her mind is quiet--it’s finally time to write the last chapters in her own story and stop running. 

He keeps an old photograph of her in the inside of his flight suit, right over his heart. He’s living his dream, and he won’t allow himself to forget that she’s the reason why. Driving home from base at night he passes houses much larger than the bungalow he’s been renting. He wonders where she went after she graduated, and what kind of job she has now. 

He chooses to picture her happy even at the expense of his feelings; a devoted husband coming to wrap his arms around her while she stirs a pot on the stove. A scintilla of guilt makes itself known as he grows somewhat jealous of this life he's envisioned for her. The truth is that he knows she was right for turning him down. They were too young, too naive, and too frightened. Breaking up with him may have been the first time he had seen her truly put herself first, and in hindsight, he’s glad she did. He knows he’d never have been able to live with himself if he had been what stood in the way of her making her dreams come true. It took him a while to understand the gift she had given him when she sent him away. The freedom to be the man he wanted to be, and not the man anyone else needed him to be. 

He’d fucked it up more than once along the way. At work, he had become too brash, too cocky, too full of himself. He put his walls up and wore the self-assured mask he thought people wanted to see. Unwavering confidence, and determination. His return to Top Gun had been a wake-up call. He’d been forced to adapt, to let his guard down and learn how to let people in again. And for the first time since he was a teenager he appreciated the difference between being valued and being important. The realization had come with a sense of belonging and camaraderie that he hadn’t expected but couldn't afford to forget.

In his personal life, he had failed time and time again to form long-term bonds. One-night stands didn’t hurt, but the idea of waking up next to someone left him nauseous. But the truth is he yearns for that connection. He wants to be seen. He wants to be understood. He stopped going home to visit his parents two years ago, the weight of self-placed expectation chewed through him and left him hollow; guilt filled its place. 

Last week he stood back straight, with his heart full of pride as he accepted his promotion. The new rank came with a new role, and a new more permanent position. He'd be stationed in San Diego for at least five more years. He called his mother. He booked a flight home for his next break. He started browsing real estate pages. It’s time to stop running. 

She’s only made it to a couple of open houses so far but she hasn’t been able to find anything she likes yet. Most of the houses she’s seen are out of her price range. Others have been too modern, some too outdated. 

She remembers the Seresin’s kitchen, the buttery yellow walls and linoleum tiles. Their house wasn’t flashy, nor had it been renovated anytime in 1980, but it was cozy. She can remember the smell of Mrs. Seresin’s baking. In her mind's eye, she recalls the feel of the cabinet doors that Mr. Seresin had built himself when they moved in, and his wife’s initials carved into the bottom corner of the cupboard over the sink. In every way possible they had made that ordinary farmhouse a home, and she wants the same for herself now. Like everything in her life, she decided her house has to be perfect. She’ll know it when she sees it. 

The house is a two-story craftsman, built circa 1935. The siding is a garish kind of coral colour, faded by the sun, and the trims stand out in a soft vanilla colour, chipped at the edges. She’s driving home from work when she sees the sign for the open house standing proudly on the front lawn. Without a thought she pulls over, throwing the car into park. Inside, it smells like freshly baked cookies-- a real estate trick she’s learned over the last few weeks. It’s easy to imagine a house is your own when it smells so inviting. She's come to expect this, and won't let it blind her. 

Her heels click across the hardwood floor, the sound echoing through the empty house. She moves past the stairs into the surprisingly spacious living room. A large window looks out onto the quiet cul-de-sac, and the room sits bathed in the soft glow of the street lights outside. She imagines the room furnished, with soft drapery, a plush sofa, tv hung above the fireplace, and she can imagine herself unwinding here. The dining room is a fair size, and the kitchen has a sliding door that opens up to the backyard. The cabinets are brand new, and the owners have spent time renovating while staying true to the charm of the house. On the countertop, she picks up the real estate agent’s pamphlets about the home, amenities and nearby schools are listed, and she wonders if she might have the chance to raise a family here. 

Overhead the sound of steady footsteps, and a pair of heels make their way down the hall and then the stairs. “If you decide to put in an offer, do not hesitate to call, in this market the early bird gets the worm,” a woman speaks. “I appreciate it, thank you,” a man replies in a low southern drawl, “do you mind if I take a look at the backyard before I head out?” “Not at all! Take your time, I’ll be out front just getting my signs if you need anything else”. 

He’s barely stepped into the kitchen when he hears his name. “Jake?” a familiar voice wonders, her arms coming immediately to wrap around him. She hits his chest with a thud, but it does move him an inch. Her name is sighed into her hairline as he holds her close. “You made it-- all the way to California,” He smiles, pulling back to get a good look at her. She’s as gorgeous as he remembers, if not more so. Her features have sharpened over time, and he thinks her hair might be darker now, but she’s glowing. Her grin is wide and her shoulders relaxed as she reaches to trace his name and rank on his uniform. “You’re flying, Jake,” she all but whispers. He nods, his eyes softening as his hand comes to rest over hers, his heart racing beneath her palm. “Turns out I’m pretty good at it,” he jokes, and is rewarded with his favourite laugh. 

His free hand lowers to rest on her hip and she steps closer, familiarity allows them to skip out on formality. He’s missed this; a shared closeness loud enough for them to speak without saying anything. He knows her like he knows the back of his own hand, and even with years passed between them, he’s able to fill in the gaps. Her clothes are well made, and well fitted. Office wear. Her shoes leave her standing tall, reminding him of senior prom and the time they spent slow dancing. He knows what she’s overcome, and he’s never had any doubt about where she would end up. Clearly successful, and if the way her smile meets her eyes is any indicator, she’s happy too. 

In all honesty, she’s not sure who leans in first, but she knows she’s kissing Jake Seresin for the first time in fifteen years. He kisses with hesitation at first but allows himself to give in to a passion grown with time. He’s more skilled than he was the first time they kissed, and she tries her best not to flush with jealousy. His cropped hair is soft where her hand reaches up to hold at the back of his head willing him closer. 

One step at a time he backs her across the room until her back meets the wall. With fingers gripping the collar of his shirt she begs him to crowd her space. She swears he’s taller now. His shoulders are broader, his arms far more defined. He’s always been handsome but the boyish charm has been replaced by something far more deadly, and she’s convinced she’d die happy if it was him stealing her breath away. 

She melts beneath him. His hand moves across her hip, down to feel the round of her ass, before his grip tightens at the flesh of her thigh, warm in her cute little dress slacks. Neither of them bothers to suppress the moans or sighs that leave them when begins to kiss down his neck. His knee slots between her legs, thudding when it makes contact with the wall, startling them both. 

“Careful. You break it you buy it, Jake”.

“I think homeownership will be good for me,” he grins catching his breath. 

“Not if I buy it first,” she quips, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she blinks up at him. He groans, his knees weak as her smile grows. “Let’s talk it out over dinner,” He manages his counteroffer. 

***

Their house smells like chocolate chip cookies, made from the recipe Jake’s mother passed down. The window in the master bedroom offers a gorgeous view of the San Diego sky. On weekends, she wakes up to the smell of coffee brewing, and Jake sliding back into bed, his hands greedy as he pulls her from her sleep with warm kisses and the promise of breakfast if they manage to make it down the stairs. 

The floorboard creaks when he comes home at night, the weight of his day shed at the door. He greets her as if he's been gone for months even when it’s only been a few hours. And he holds as if he’ll never see her again when he returns from a deployment. 

The gentle breeze that blows through the open windows of their little home carries away their lingering anxieties, and they allow themselves to soften in each other’s presence. 

They lay in the grass in their backyard, paint smeared across their clothes, brows sweaty from a hard day's work. The siding is now a fresh, pale green, the trims glow in a soft white. Above them, the stars shine. The same stars they watched as children, and loved as teens. He watches her, enamoured, as she points to the North Star tracing her way around the night sky, recalling the stories he told her about each constellation. He wonders how many lifetimes are painted in the sky above them, how many lovers have admired the stars as they have. 

She pulls him from his thoughts, rolling to settle with her knees at either side of his hips, her left hand resting on his heart. He looks at her as if he’s in awe of her, his wedding band cold on her back as his hand slides underneath her shirt. Leaning down to kiss him she’s certain this is the life she’s always been running towards. 

[cthulhus-curse]

Her Majesty

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 7,030

Warnings: Princess Wanda Maximoff, Curses, First Times, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Smut | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: When the princess gets cursed it causes a rift between your friendship which soon blossoms into something you’ve longed for since first seeing her.

Sunrises were ones you typically ignored unless the day ahead was one to remember. You’d sleep through them, huffing while going back to sleep for a few hours before your presence was required. No matter your occupation, you were high enough in the ranks that your superiors wouldn’t mind. Especially if one of said people had a knack of similarly remaining asleep.

Being friends with the princess wasn’t something you’d sought out for. If anything it was destiny that brought you together. Your father had been a knight as had his own father. He wasn’t too keen on having his only daughter join the king’s forces, but given how stubborn you were to follow his path, it was impossible to talk you down. It was then that as a young girl you got to feast your eyes upon not just the king and queen, but his son and a daughter you couldn’t easily ignore. Since that first day when you faithfully introduced yourself to Wanda, you were inseparable. So much so that at times you helped her sneak away from the tedious royal life to live normally by your side.

Each week you had a standing scheduled time together. Wanda usually left the castle early in the morning before the rest of her family awoke. Pietro knew of course, but when she promised to put in a good word for him with princesses of neighboring kingdoms, he remained quiet.

Fields of ever growing green surrounded the princess as she galloped on her horse, a hood covering her face so as to not be recognized. The blooming Spring trees brought up fresh air that she breathed in happily, exhaling with giddiness at the idea of seeing you again. Leaving the kingdom and entering the forest, she knew it would only be a matter of minutes before she saw you.

If only you had awoken earlier that day instead of ignoring the sunlight then perhaps she would’ve been safe.

More than an hour passed and Wanda remained sitting in the middle of the forest, patting Sparky’s head who snorted as he grew tired of standing around the woods. She never failed to bring fresh breakfast from the kitchen – bread for her, carrots for Sparky, and warm pancakes for you which most definitely were cold by now.

“She’ll be here soon,” she told her loyal horse. “I know it.”

And when you didn’t appear in the following five minutes, she grew bored. Wanda wasn’t known for her patience. As a princess she was used to getting whatever she wished, whenever she wished. Surely she was much kinder than any of the other royals you had the displeasure of meeting, but her spoiled nature wasn’t going away anytime soon.

Wanda guided Sparky as she walked around the forest. Soothing chirping sounds amazed her alongside the light gust from the early morning. Branches crackled beneath her feet – she thankfully remembered her riding outfit that day, opting to wear it along with boots, tie her hair in a loose braid, all so she wouldn’t have even a strand of hair covering her sight as she stared at you.

A frown overcame her when seeing a small hut standing between a family of trees. She tilted her head, humming with confusion at the small building. Although you two met there each week away from the kingdom, she had yet to venture forth enough to find such a peculiar place.

Shrugging with deep innocence, she tied Sparky against the trunk of a tree and went off to explore.

When first knocking on the door, Wanda wasn’t given a response. She sighed, attempting once again only to receive a chilling silence in return. Her curiosity got the best of her as she turned the knob only to find it open, instantly stepping into the small house.

“Hello? Is anyone here?” Wanda called out.

She was greeted by darkness, only a shining light laying on the deep end of the room. It was a beautiful bright red that caught her attention, eyes widening as she followed it. When reading the table, she found a book laying beside a small vial containing the scarlet liquid.

“Oooh shiny!” Wanda giggled as her fingers turned red to mirror the drink. Just like her mother, she had powers which went beyond that of normal humans. “I hope no one minds…”

Wanda flipped open the book with a smile on her face. She was far too hypnotized by the small vial that after opening it, she urged herself to drink it. On second thought it was far from the brightest choice she had made. Not only was it a mysterious liquid, but it also burned its way down her throat leaving her coughing as she read the book.

“Draco,” was all she could muster out while her eyes flickered over the page. “Incantamentum? I-”

“What the hell are you doing!”

Before Wanda could so much as turn around, she felt her entire body beginning to boil, her insides growing warm as she fell on her knees hissing with pain. The last thing she saw before all went dark was a brunette standing over her, fingers dark as they glowed purple with fear.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

When Wanda finally awoke, she fell off the bed she resided on. Her breathing was ragged while her face, her body at that, burned brightly. Her first thought was that she became delirious and never made it out of her room that morning, but as she took in her surroundings, she gasped.

“Good, you’re awake. I got scared I’d accidentally killed you,” a voice said from the other side of the room. “I don’t think the king would take it lightly if I took his only daughter’s life, but to be fair, you were asking for it.”

“What? Who are you? Where am I?” Wanda rose to her feet, her back aching as her green eyes met ocean blue ones that towered above her.

“You broke into my home and you don’t know where you are? I never thought the princess would be this much of an idiot,” she grumbled under her breath. “I’m Agatha, dear, the witch who you stole from. Now I need you to tell me what exactly you did to make you look like,” she paused while pointing at you, not finding the right words, “this.”

“Are you calling me ugly? Well, hag, I’ll let you know that I-”

“I liked you better when you were asleep.” Agatha shook her head, flicked her wrist, and forced a full-body mirror to appear beside the bed. “Before you accuse me of anything and worsen my headache, take a look in the mirror.”

Wanda glared at her. Her hands were supposed to turn bright red as a means to protect herself, but she simply couldn’t find the power to muster her magic. “What did you do to me?”

“Runes, they- oh fuck this just look at yourself. I have an appointment with this man who turned himself into a big green beast and my job is to turn him back. Now let’s get this over with.”

Agatha guided Wanda to the mirror who was hesitant to move, but still strode forward. She couldn’t shake the feeling of dread deep in her chest, confused that it wasn’t towards the mysterious woman but rather an unknown situation. When she ignored her mind and faced the glass, she immediately screamed.

“That’s about the reaction I expected,” Agatha flatly said as she held the screeching princess whose eyes welled up with tears while her face grew hot red. “Listen, you turned yourself into a dragon, no big deal. It was supposed to be a spell for this idiotic wizard who won’t stop harassing me about being better, some strange doctor or something, but thanks to you I’ll have to turn him into a rock instead. I suppose it’s better as I won’t have to hear his stupid voice again.” When she made eye contact with the redhead, she rolled her eyes. “Tough luck, it happens to the best of us. Now I know you’re a magical gal too, so I’d be careful simply existing. I’ll send you to another kingdom so that you don’t accidentally murder anyone and don’t rat me out to your parents.”

“Can’t you fix it?!” Wanda’s breathing was inconsistent as she looked at herself in the mirror. She had small fangs popping from her mouth as tiny horns lay on her head. A tail was wrapped around her leg, scarlet scales glowing underneath the faux light of a nearby candle. And yet nothing compared to the two large wings that fluttered shyly. “Oh my god you have to change me back now.”

“Sorry, buttercup. That’s way beyond my paygrade.”

“Are you deaf? Change me back!” Wanda growled, her eyes turning red with anger.

“Well excuse me if I typically don’t tend to revert the spells I cast. I’m a witch, not a circus magician,” Agatha retaliated. “You were the one that turned yourself into this.”

“And I’m your princess!“

“More like a pain in my ass. And I live beyond your kingdom so you’re not really my princess.” Arguing with the younger woman made Agatha feel as though she was challenging a wall to a duel. She could see the pain that lay beneath her face, Wanda’s shoulder falling as she let her tears run down her face. Regardless of whose fault it was, it was enough to tug at her heartstrings. “But fine, I’ll see what I can do. Just stop crying. I’m pretty sure it’s a crime to make the princess cry.”

Wanda nodded as she let out a strangled sob. She quickly brushed off her tears, her face burning as her wings involuntarily wrapped themselves around her body for support. Rather than think of how her family would react, her thoughts were on you. After having been crushing on her knight in shining armor for years, she had lost her chance all because of her stupidity.

“So, where can I stay? Do you have another room hidden here somewhere?” She asked after sniffling.

“Oh you’re not staying here. You got yourself into this mess, not me. If you weren’t the princess, I would’ve already turned you into a bug before stepping on you for this creative home invasion you just pulled.” Her headache only grew worse by the second – relaxation was not something that came easy to Agatha. “You got balls for breaking into a witch’s home, I tell you that.”

“Ha-ha. Joke’s on you. I don’t have balls.”

“It’s a…figure of…” she sighed. If the king didn’t kill her first, then perhaps the idiocy she was exposed to would do the job. “Never mind. Just go back to whatever hole you crawled out of. You’ll know when I have something ready.”

“But-“

“I wasn’t asking.”

With a flick of her wrist and muttered words beneath her breath, a swirl of purple smoke surrounded Wanda. Next thing she knew, she was stuck back in her room once again.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

A knock on the wooden door of her quarters made the princess jump. She had spent a few hours napping with the hopes of finding it was all a nightmare once she awoke. When that didn’t help, she studied her new body in the mirror. She’d have to get new clothes, she mused while eyeing the tears in her torn garments. When shedding off the rest of the fabric small scales were seen laying faintly along her thighs, back, and the swell of her perky breasts.

“Wanda, are you there?” Your voice boomed through the room.

Poor thing had to stop groping herself imagining they were your hands as she quickly threw herself over the bed. Wanda had no time to find a proper outfit. Instead, she settled for rolling herself above the bed sheets, her body being covered along with part of her head, before walking towards the door.

When opening it, she tried her best to sound relaxed. “Oh hey, Y/N! How are you?”

“Worried. I know I woke up late, but what happened to you? I found Sparky stranded in the woods and waited for hours. You didn’t show up and I…” you stopped as you found yourself unable to finish such thought. “Are you alright?”

“Oh yes I’m okay. I, uh, had some bad bread on the way to the forest and my stomach started hurting a lot when I got there. I portaled myself here to throw up. Guess I forgot Sparky,” she shrugged with the hope it would be enough. “You look good today.”

“Thanks, you…” your words were lost as you took in her appearance, most of her body completely covered in the linen sheets. Squinting, you made out a hint of redness on her head that poked through the fabric. When realizing what it was, you gasped. “You have horns?”

Wanda didn’t say a word as she used her newly found strength to grab you and throw you into her room, luckily fast enough so that the maids walking down the hallway didn’t see anything. She began pacing, breathing becoming difficult again as she attempted to hold onto the bed sheets. To her dismay, the mix of her new powers and old magic during such an overwhelming moment made it so that the covering over her body was burned to ashes.

You were left sitting on the floor with your mouth agape. You knew it was only wrong to keep staring, but you simply were unable to tear your eyes away from the princess. Even in the dimly lit room you could make out her hourglass figure, breast standing proudly, her stomach with adorable rolls, and…wings?

“Wanda you-”

“I know I have horns. I’m horny now!” She cried, far too overwhelmed to understand her own words. “Mama is going to kill me and Pietro won’t let me hear the end of it.”

“No Wanda you-” Once again she interrupted you with her insistent sobs and pacing, but you wouldn’t let it slide. “Wanda you’re naked!”

“Oh,” she looked down at her nude skin. “Oh!”

Her cuteness was something you always appreciated. Sheltered from a young age, Wanda had yet to fully grasp the maturity that was to come with adulthood. Her innocence was something you loved along with her tenderness when it came to other creatures. At times you’d be sitting in the forest casually having your weekly picnic when she slid her hand against your arms, asking you all about the rigorous training that came with being a knight – even teaching her to swordfight led her to merely swing the weapon around and hit any tree in her vicinity.

You waited for Wanda to throw an oversized robe on her body, her wings and tail hiding beneath. She sat by the edge of the bed before patting the empty place by her side. Nodding, you instantly took it.

Silence had befallen over the two of you until she found enough courage to speak. Each little detail of the story was explained. She felt guilty and dumb about having entered the hut, much more for drinking something and reading from a book which appeared to be of the damned. You couldn’t blame her though. Unless Oleg or Iryna gave her permission, she wasn’t allowed to leave the castle, let alone the kingdom citing that she was simply too inexperienced with her magic, scared that she’d hurt others or be hurt for being a witch.

“…and now I’m part dragon I think.” Wanda finished off with a saddened look on her features.

“Now that’s a story,” you chuckled, but stopped as soon as you noticed her face. “Hey, cheer up, princess. You got magic, wings, an awesome tail, and even horns. You’re even more powerful now, right?”

“I guess.” Wanda sighed. Never would you see her the way she wanted you to. “I’m not pretty anymore. Not that I was before, but look at me. I’m a freak, a monster. I look hideous and so gross I…I hate it so much.”

“Honey, you have never stopped looking beautiful. Cursing yourself doesn’t change that,” you began. “I know it’s new and scary, but you said it yourself: the witch will find a cure. We just have to wait and see what happens.”

“We?”

You grabbed her hand and brought it close, keeping yourself from kissing the back of it or her for that matter given your close proximity. “Yes, Wanda. We will get through this together. I’m not leaving your side for a second. It’s you and me against the world, princess. Isn’t that what we used to say as kids?”

Smirking fondly, Wanda quickly remembered why she had fallen so hard for you.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Somehow hiding herself from her family wasn’t the hardest part. Wanda would wear hats and crowns over her head that covered her horns. She’d taught herself how to comfortably wear tight dresses while hiding her wings and tail. You were there to help make the entire process smoother, your hand always clasped with her own as a means of protection.

Being a princess, Wanda had various suitors her parents wished for her to meet. They knew of the way she fancied women, making sure to get in contact with kingdoms who sought off for a princess to be wed off to their own royalty-stricken daughter, one of them being one Kate Bishop.

Kate was nice enough. She reminded you of Wanda a lot, her dashing smile being hard to easily get off anyone’s minds. Iryna wished for the two women to get to know one another better by sending her daughter off to the neighboring kingdom being promised by Eleanor, their queen, that all would go well.

Throughout that week you didn’t hide your disapproval. You were distracted during training, the Romanoff sisters, Natasha answering to the king and Yelena tasked with protecting the prince, had gotten the upper hand during training and you couldn’t care less of it. They stared at one another dumbfoundedly as you finished off by kicking the dirt, the image of Kate and Wanda prancing off in another castle fresh in your mind.

“Someone’s in a bad mood,” Natasha commented as she followed you, putting her sword away when Yelena joined you two by your other side. “Shouldn’t you be happy you got less work this week, Y/N? No princess to watch, meaning you can go off into town and find yourself a bedmate for once.”

“I don’t know, Nat. I think Y/N might already have someone in mind,” Yelena teased.

“Maybe some princess?” Natasha raised her eyebrows.

“I’m never telling either of you shit again,” you muttered, the women merely laughing as you made a beeline for the barracks. “I just miss her. What do you think she’s doing over there? I don’t know why the queen didn’t just let me accompany Wanda. I’m her knight for fuck’s sake.”

“I heard they got Maria to watch her instead,” Yelena said as she spared her sister a look. “But don’t worry she’s taken already.”

Natasha giggled before playfully hitting the blonde’s arm. “Well, the girl has been acting weird as of late. I think her mom’s just catching on and she wants to see if a change of guard will fix it. Oh maybe you’ll get fired and banished to the Enchanted Forest. Legend says there’s a witch that lives there. Not Wanda, but an even more powerful witch.”

“I know,” you whispered, not allowing the other women to hear. “Thanks for the happy thoughts though. Can’t wait for the royal family to kick me to the streets.”

Sighing, you hoped that Wanda would get back home soon – back to you once and for all.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Upon her arrival Wanda spent her first few hours at the castle with her family. She didn’t reveal much information, well, at least nothing truthful. All her parents had to know was that it went well, but she refused to tell them about the long nights she spent with Kate discussing her growing feelings for a certain knight.

You tried to keep your distance from the princess. With love for her growing, you would rather she was happy than to potentially step in between whatever she had with Kate. No matter what she chose, you’d forever be there to support Wanda – your love, your best friend.

As you lay in your bed flipping through the pages of a book not truly registering the words given how preoccupied your mind was, you heard a knock on the door. At first you ignored it. Pietro was one who, even as an adult, ran through the castle and played pranks on everyone, even certain royal guards who lived on the grounds. When the sound didn’t stop, you huffed, threw your book to the side, and went to the door.

“I know it’s late, but I wanted to see you,” was the first thing Wanda said as she saw you. The previously-grown jealousy in you dissipated as you stared into those striking viridescent eyes. “Hi, Y/N. Would you let me in?”

“Of course, princess.”

You moved away to allow her enough space to enter. Wanda giddily ran to your bed, throwing the hat she wore on the floor and kicking it away. She felt comfortable enough to let her wings be free as well as her tails in your presence, stretching them out after they had hid away from long hours before.

“I missed you so much,” Wanda squealed as you laid back on the bed. She didn’t care to ask as she threw herself on your body, but then again, neither did you. “Tell me everything about your week. I want to know every last detail, please.”

Wanda lay on your chest happily listening to your voice. You could tell she was exhausted from the way she rubbed her eyes and stifled her yawns, but she refused to leave. Instead she pouted when you mentioned how much you missed her, especially your little getaways each Sunday morning – she too longed to have them back.

Something she’d loved since you were children was to have her hair played with. With fingers running through red strands, you explained the boredom you endured without your princess by her side, getting Wanda to nuzzle her face against you as she giggled. Such an enchantingly beautiful sight she was, so perfect and tender to the touch.

You allowed your fingers to ghost over her small horns. Ever since you saw them you were curious about their texture, but never wished to make her uncomfortable by asking. That was until Wanda’s breath hitched as it grew more shallow by the second, your words dying out while exploring the woman.

“Can I touch them?”

Wanda only nodded silently.

When you allowed your fingertips to touch her horns, the poor thing melted. She wasn’t aware of how sensitive her wings, horns, and tails were until she brushed against them in the shower one day. Just like before, a wetness began forming between her legs. There was not much she could do about it, especially not slip a hand between her legs to relieve the stickiness she had previously.

“They’re beautiful, Wanda. So pretty,” you couldn’t help but point out. You always found her magic to be majestic. Ever since you were a kid you were unable to tear your eyes away from what you deemed as her ‘wiggly woos’, the red glow that came out of thin air. “You’re perfect the way you are. I never want you to forget that, alright?”

“Okay,” she smirked, her eyes glistening with tears of happiness underneath the moonlight. Her tail wrapped around one of your forearms, the shining red scales upon it warm with adoration. Such tender moments weren’t alien to either of you. You’d been together since children, sharing everything regardless of differing societal statues. “You’re breathtaking too. Always so irresistible. It’s all the maids talk about, you know? They think I’m not listening but they can’t stop gushing about the princess’s loyal guard. I just…don’t like it?”

“How come?” You frowned with confusion.

Wanda didn’t dare let out those words into the world. In the world only Pietro and Kate knew of her love towards you. No one else had the pleasure of realizing how the princess was enthralled by her friend since childhood. So loyal towards you, always. No matter how much time passed, Wanda would forever wait for you.

She sat up slightly. A shot of surprising confidence she always lacked consumed her body as the redhead was mere centimeters away from your face, her lips ghosting over your own. Your free hand had long stopped petting her horns, and yet the discomfort between her legs didn’t easily go away.

“Can I kiss you?”

You couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t, but after long years of hoping to either ask or hear that question you were ecstatic. “Yes, please.”

Tenderness was present when Wanda first slid her lips against your own. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, at best she’d heard hushed whispers through the castle about it. It was difficult to tell how to act, but as soon as you kissed back, she practically melted and allowed you to dominate her entirely – to set the pace while you danced to the same tempo.

Small mewls left her mouth as the sloppy, wet make out session didn’t easily end. Such tension had erupted through your friendship for over a decade. Your hands clung to her body as Wanda grabbed your face, both moving sensually as you moaned against one another’s lips. With each second that passed, her body grew warmer as did her desperation.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that,” you said breathlessly when she pulled back for air. Her pink lips were plump and wet, shining with shared saliva. Red hair was messy atop her head. So imperfect to some and yet a truly magnificent mirage to you. You couldn’t help but touch, brushing a thumb against her cheek with delight. “You mean the world to me. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to protect you from this,” your eyes flickered towards her tail, “but we’ll get through it together, you know that. Oh Wanda, I’m right here for you.”

Wanda’s hand was planted atop her own as she kissed you once again. So slow, so sweet, so perfect. Her shyness went through her lips, the princess attempting to hide her face afterwards but being stopped as you pressed your foreheads together.

“Forever?” She asked with exhaustion dripping from her tongue – after such a long week all she wanted to do was lay on your chest until the sunrise overcame the world.

Kissing the tip of her nose, you smiled. “Forever, princess. I’m your knight in shining armor.”

That night Wanda remained in your room, changing into your most comfortable clothes after a shower and flopping herself down on top of you. She was warm to the touch. Who needs blankets when there’s a dragon at your disposal? Even her light snores were adorable. From then on, kissing the top of her head, you knew she’d never leave your side.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Living with your relationship in secrecy wasn’t so different after all. The one thing that changed was the fact you could now kiss one another without batting an eye, that you got to call Wanda your girlfriend and make her beam every single time she heard it. She’d even strategically step under you after hearing it so you could kiss her forehead.

You’d gone weeks having little moments to yourself. Slow and heavy make out sessions occurred in your designated rooms, the gardens at night, the forest you shared, or even the empty halls of the castle. After so long of simply dancing around one another, you had more than enough time to make up for.

Wanda was particularly excited when she received a letter from Agatha with an update on her monstrous situation. She’d grown tired of needing help when bathing as she was unable to reach her back with the wings that stood in the way. You’d grown quite used to her nude body, sometimes simply bathing together, watching as Wanda played around splashing the watery bubbles while you washed her hair. She had to learn new ways to style her hair with horns in the middle for her head, all while also hiding them. All in all, she was ready to go back to being a simple human, let alone her witch status.

Dragging you along with her, Wanda went off on an adventure to the Enchanted Forest as a means to find Agatha again. She asked you if it was normal to send letters via bunny and you frowned, but all she had in mind was the small white creature who had given her the letter, his collar reading “Senor Scratchy – if lost please visit the witch’s hut in the forest and you’ll be rewarded with the ability to curse any one person of your choice.” The thing that made less sense to her was how it all fit in the tag and the legality of Agatha offering to curse random civilians if they found her bunny, but she shrugged it off while wrapping her arms around your body, head resting on your shoulder while you guided the horse into the woods.

“You know, the whole point of telling you to hide yourself was for you to actually do it,” was the first thing Agatha grumbled out as she opened the door after several insistently loud knocks from Wanda’s giddy hand. She eyed you harshly, but as her sight flickered across your face down to your exposed neck, muscular arms and body, she licked her lips. “Not bad. I have a warm bed if you’re looking for some company tonight, dear.”

“I’m spoken for,” you mustered out with wide eyes, your cheeks tinting with pink that wasn’t missed by a huffing Wanda. You grabbed her hand, tilting your head to quietly prove your point. “Sorry?”

“I’m not sure if I should be disgusted or surprised. Good for you, princess. I have to say I am very impressed at least,” Agatha hummed before stepping back. “Come on in.”

During the entire meeting with Agatha all you could do was falter your eyes from her as a means to keep off any possibility of meeting her own. Not once did she look at Wanda for longer than three seconds. The poor princess kept her cool most of the time, let alone for the moments in which she puffed smoke from her nostrils, her eyes turning red along with her fingers as she took in the way the other witch looked at you.

In a matter of days, Wanda would go back to normal. Thanks to the help of a wizard, Agatha had managed to garner a spell to turn the princess back. It would take a few tries before she was able to perfect it. Rather than putting Wanda at risk, she preferred to wait.

“Couldn’t you have just put this on the letter? Did we really need to come?” Wanda suddenly questioned with apparent annoyance. She didn’t not stop holding your hand tightly, her own being scalding hot.

“And, pray tell, what would you have done if someone intercepted the letter? Say it was that brother of yours who is somehow more of an idiot than you?” Agatha said.

“How do you know Pietro?”

“I wish I didn’t, but it’s too long of a story to tell now.” She turned to you, features softening then replaced with lust. “Take care of her, darling. Make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.”

Wanda didn’t really care to hear more than that as she tugged at your hand and dragged you away. She made a show to flutter her wings fast enough to knock down a few trinkets Agatha had lying around, her tail smashing the door closed as soon as you stepped back out into the forest. As content as she was to have found another witch like her, your partner wasn’t too keen on sharing.

When you mounted the horse together, helping Wanda up by grabbing her waist from behind, she pressed her front against your back. Grinding sensually slow, she let out a rather exaggerated moan. Even in the depths of her innocence, she desperately needed to be claimed.

“Take me home,” Wanda pleaded as you hugged her tight, mind still wrapping itself around such a blissfully delicious moment. “Please, Y/N. I’m ready.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Never did you expect yourself to be rushing up the halls of the castle giggling like children as you hid from the others. Wanda raced you at first, but nearly fell on her face with the heeled boots she wore. Her wings allowed her to cheat for a few seconds as she flew past you — the two of you had gone by the riverside to practice her flying; it was fascinating how she could, at the very least, float a couple of feet above the air.

Wanda shyness came back as soon as she stood behind the door of her room, cheeks blushing madly as you pushed her up against the nearest surface. She could barely breathe as the last bit of air she held was stuck beneath her mix of excitement and fear for what would come next.

You held her tight, lips harshly taking her own for a kiss. It was different from the others. No longer did you playfully embrace each other behind the shadows, but instead hid in the home you built for yourselves. Taking the reins, you guided your beloved into the light.

Neither truly knew what to do given your shared inexperience, but you’d heard enough from the other guards to have a general idea. At first you helped Wanda relax by sensually kissing her. Your hands merely hovered over her sides before she nodded at you, giving in silent permission for you to carry on the ministrations. The cloak was pulled off before you shed her dress, being careful enough so that her wings or tail didn’t get in the way.

Surely you’d seen her body naked, but never within the lustful context. While Wanda helped you off your own outfit you stared down in awe. She placed butterfly kisses all over your neck before admiring your nude skin. Fingers found old, healed scars from battles along with bruises received in training. Wanda wanted nothing more than to kiss them all, to protect you from harm, and she did.

You two stumbled over the bed together, Wanda falling first as you caught her from above. Your breasts slid together, nipples accenting the arousal which settled between your legs. Such a perfect fit , you thought as your bodies were molded into one.

“Please I need you inside,” Wanda breathed out. You nuzzled your faces together, sharing a groan when one of your hands squeezed a supple breast gently. “Go slow, baby. We can do it at the same time.”

And that you did. After exploring each other’s bodies for long enough, kissing every bit of skin until you knew it like the back of your hands, you cupped Wanda’s sex. The wetness that met you was delightful. You wondered for a moment how it would taste, how her cunt would react to your tongue flattening against it before taking her clit hostage. You knew from that moment on neither of you would be shy to become adventurous.

“I’ll give you whatever you may want, my princess. I am forever your loyal servant,” you whispered when kissing your way down her face, to her neck, and ended with a craned neck swirling your tongue around a taut nipple. “I’m never leaving your side. I’ll be yours to the end of time. You’re the queen of my heart – it’s always been you.”

“I love you,” was her only response as she mirrored your moves and slid her fingers against the drenched area between your legs. The two of you moved languidly, spreading the other’s folds and tenderly massaging sensitive clits. “I’ve always loved you.”

“I love you too.”

After carefully teasing her for long enough, Wanda doing the same to you, you slipped a single digit inside. She followed along with your guidance, moaning at how awfully tight you were, your velvety walls clamping down around her finger, hugging it tightly as though you never wished to let go. Only had she done it to herself, never truly going past half of her finger given how difficult it was to arouse herself without your presence.

The two of you moved as one. You led the way pumping yourself in and out of your lover, your thumb stimulating her bundle of nerves that practically begged for attention. Small mewls and erotic sounds filled the room. While yours were subdued with the way your mouth teased Wanda’s nipples, hers were loud to cross the whole nation.

Warm wings wrapped themselves around your body to hug you closer as a tail lay snaked on your free hand that held you up. The tips of both her tail and horns glowed a beautiful shade or bright red that accented the flames from the candles she lit with the snap of her fingers.

“You were crafted by the gods themselves. Everything about you, every inch, every imperfection, is something so fucking beautiful,” you breathed out before placing kisses between the valley of her breasts. You grinded against her hand, silently pleading for more while pressing a second finger against her entrance. “I’ve wanted to have you like this for so long, to hold you tight and show you how deep my love is for you. Everything I do, every breath I take, it’s all for you. One day I will get down on one knee for you and nothing will be able to keep us apart.”

You made Wanda scream loud enough that your words were not registered by her. She arched her back, wings fluttering as the grip her tail had on you strengthened. “Y/N!”

That night you didn’t dare stop until you drove Wanda to the brink of pleasure several times. You weren’t sure how to go about it, but she was rather fond of being filled with two fingers that you thrust carefully so as to not hurt her. The princess couldn’t muster the energy to get you through a second orgasm as her finger was nestled knuckle-deep inside you. All you did was kiss her juice-coated hand, suck her finger clean, and that was enough to give her the confidence to stop hiding her blushing face to allow you to kiss her.

After having cleaned up, Wanda watching on as you changed the sheets of her bed, you lay snuggled up in bed together. She refused to leave your side for even a second. Surely the two of you had been physically affectionate during your friendship, but it was nothing compared to the love you felt when she playfully nommed on your bicep, giggling as her fangs barely touched her skin before pulling back.

“Do you promise you’ll stay? I don’t like waking up alone.” Her voice was small, frail even as it boomed through the room previously cowering with silence. Even with the darkness that settled in the atmosphere you could make out her glinting green eyes, pointy horns, and a tail that simply wouldn’t stop ghosting over your feet. “You don’t have to, but I-”

“I’ll stay. It’s okay, I like it anyway,” you shrugged with a flashed smile even if you knew she couldn’t see after having put out the candles.

“Really?”

“Yes, baby. Really.”

You didn’t prepare yourself enough for when a little ball of happiness pounced on top of you. Wanda nuzzled her face against your chest, her horns brushing against your cheek while her wings hugged you lovingly. For a moment you enjoyed the simplicity of it all. No longer was she a cursed princess or you her knight. It was just you and Wanda alone beneath the starry night — stars which resembled her strikingly alluring eyes.

The thought was enough to get you to slowly give into exhaustion.

“Y/N?” By then you had closed your eyes with the hope that if you remained silent for long enough, perhaps you could succumb to your sleep. That didn’t matter to Wanda who was driven to awaken you by shaking you around. “Y/N?”

“Yes, Wanda?”

“Are you awake?” She couldn’t get more adorable than that, you realized.

“Yes, Wanda.” You paused, sighing as your heart filled with love for your future queen. “What’s wrong?“

“I’m scared of the dark.” It was silly, she knew, and yet she was comfortable enough snuggling tight against you under the bed sheets. “And I love you, but I’m mostly scared of the dark.”

You pulled her closer than humanly possible, your chin resting atop her head comfortably. Wanda let out a tiny mewl, laughing as you were warmed up beneath her scalding hot wings. She was the woman you’d marry someday and you didn’t second-guess for a moment.

“It’s okay, princess. I’m right here.” You allowed your lips to linger on her forehead when kissing her. “I love you very much, Wanda – my little witchy. I’m here forever.”

Regardless of whether or not you admitted it, you had her curse to thank for having brought you together. Perhaps you’d send Agatha a bouquet of flowers or pay her a visit. Poor woman didn’t seem to interact with anything other than bumbling idiots or those who she cursed for fun; her words, not yours. Surely it was a horrid mistake that brought Wanda’s stress through the roof, but she was cured in a few weeks once her fellow witch got a hang of the spell.

She was your little dragon for weeks, but Wanda would forever be your princess; too bad she was the same person who accidentally got you cursed into a werewolf days later when practicing spells Agatha taught her.

[d0youc0py]

heyy - 🍄

Can you write something with 141 reacting to the reader going to sleep alone in another room? like just the reader wanting to be alone or they fought. the way you prefer

Hurt/comfort ♥️ your writing is my favorite

Hi! 🍄Thank you so much! I absolutely loved this prompt!

He thought you were being dramatic. Too sensitive. And he made sure to let you know.

“It was just a joke, sweetheart. Nothing more. I’m a light sleeper, you know that.” His voice was careful, yet firm.

Even though he had assured you he hadn’t meant anything by it, here you were, staring at the ceiling as pm turned into am. He had his arm snug around you, tucking you under his chin. Normally this position had you out like a light, but now you were just focusing on trying not to breath too hard.

Earlier that day the two of you were relaxing on the couch when you commented on his yawn.

“You’ve been yawning a lot, Si. Should put you to bed early.” You snickered.

“Your fault.” He yawned again. “Movin around every five second.” His tone was teasing. His fingers even brushed up and down your foot that was resting in his lap. Despite this, your heart dropped. Were you really that uncomfortable to share a bed with?

Laying in bed was growing increasingly uncomfortable. Your side ached from you spending too much time on it. Your nose hadn’t stopped itching and it took everything in your power not to scratch it every five seconds. Even your quieted breathing felt like it was shaking the bed. The guest room was sounding more and more inviting. You’d be able to flip over whenever you wanted. Scratch that nose of yours, all without having to worry about stirring the sleeping giant behind you.

You carefully gripped his arm and squirmed your way out from under it. He woke up halfway, holding his arm up for you.

“Sorry, Si.” You whispered, guilt already tugging at you.

“Don’t even think about it.” He assured in a groan. He watched with curious eyes as you disappeared down the hall, instead of going to the bathroom like he assumed you were. You must be getting water.

One minuted turned into three, then three turned into five. He huffed, rubbing a hand over his face, your side of the bed already growing uncomfortably cold. His socked feet sunk into the plush carpet as he made his way down the hall. The kitchen light wasn’t on, but the guest bedroom that was normally shut was wide open. Even in the darkness he could make out the lump of your body- already asleep.

The realization was instant. And it hurt.

“Sweetheart.” He knocked at the open door. He didn’t feel too bad about waking you up. He needed to. You gasped awake, your head springing up from the pillows. It seemed even your absence kept him awake. “What do I have to say for you to get out of that head of yours?” He hummed, plopping down next to you. He leaned over you, pressing a slow kiss against your forehead.

“I just feel bad knowing I’m constantly waking you up.” You murmured, rubbing at your eyes.

“Sweetheart, waking up to you isn’t something to feel bad about. It’s nice, being woken up just because someone wants to be closer to you. Now we are going to knock it off with all this ‘afraid to wake me up shit’ and go back to our bed, you hear me?”

You did hear him.

“John, enough! I’m tired of arguing with you, I’m ready to go to bed.” You growled. He followed closely behind you towards the bedroom, unbuttoning his white dress shirt.

“Yeah, let’s just go to bed and forget all of this happened.” He mumbled from behind you. You began tugging off your clothes, throwing a glare his way.

“Don’t do that.” You chided, throwing you clothes on top of his in the hamper.

“Do what?” He gruffed back.

“Mumble things under your breath.” You explained. He tsked and rolled his eyes at you. The action caused another flare to ignite in your stomach. He reached into his dresser and pulled out a nightshirt, tugging it over his head. He reached back in and grabbed one for you, holding it out to you expectantly. It was your favorite shirt of his to wear.

“I’m not wearing that.” You spat, turning away from him. You marched to your shared bed and grabbed your pillow, beginning to make your way down the hallway.

“Where are you going?” He stopped you. His large frame taking up the whole doorway.

“John”-

“Love.” His voice was calm and you hated it. He should be more upset. Upset that you were upset with him. “Don’t go”-

“Why should I liste”-

“You need to stay in bed with me. That’s where you belong.” He said it as though it was a fact. “I know you’re not too happy with me right now, but you aren’t sleepin away from me tonight, honey. Now let’s go brush our teeth.”

*this is so dramatic*

Johnny had fucked up. He admitted it too. Yet it seemed no matter how many apologies flowed from him- you were determined to put a rift between the two of you. At least that’s how he saw it.

You yawned next to him on the couch, your hand brushing some hair out of your eyes.

“Gettin sleepy?” He hummed. You smiled softly, nodding your head.

“Should probably head to bed.” You yawned, stretching as you stood.

“You remember where it is?” It was a snotty comment. Distasteful. You had been sleeping in the guest bedroom for the past week. He was able to choke down his hatred for it the first few days, but after you referred to it as “your room” all grace had been lost.

“You just can’t help yourself can you?” You growled, not bothering to wait for an answer.

“Just don’t understand why you’re so hell bent on punishing me.” He shouted after you. You stopped, turning on your heels.

“Punishing you?” You snarled. “The only one getting punished in this situation is me John. I know to you I’m being dramatic but I really don’t know how I can trust you after all those shitty things you said to me.”

His chest twisted and his hand scratched at his shirt.

“I don’t know what else to do, sweetheart.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft and it made you feel worse than you already did. “I’ve apologized in more ways than one and I’m still not getting through to you. I’m not saying I’m giving up, I just miss you. I know lashing out at you isn’t the answer.” He sighed rubbing at his face. He was exhausted- that was evident just by looking at him. You were his safe place- his favorite person in the whole world and he hurt you. “I made a mistake saying nasty shite to you, but I hope you remember everything before that. We’ve been together for years and I hoped I’ve showed you just how much I love you in that time.”

By the end of his speech tears were rolling down your cheeks.

“Dammit, Mac.” You huffed. You moved forward quickly, practically flinging yourself at him. He reciprocated immediately, wrapping his arms tight around you with no intention to let you go. He wouldn’t let go till you forgave him.

You woke up to two arms wrapping around you.

“Ky.” You grumbled sleepily.

“You took so much medicine, I didn’t think you’d wake up.” He whispered back. You were sick and the last thing you wanted to do was get Kyle sick. He rubbed his hands over your stomach, the action already lulling you back to sleep.

“I just don’t want to make you sick.” You murmured. He ‘tsked’ at you, pulling you even closer to his warm body. You wished it was easier to stay away from him. He was the perfect temperature for your chilled body and he smelled like vanilla and coffee.

“I’d wear it like a badge of honor.” He smiled against you. You rolled your eyes.

“You just always find a way to make everything romantic don’t you.”

“Well I had to get you to fall for me one way.”

“Are you going to be this cheeky when you get sick?” You hummed.

“I wasn’t planning on it, but challenge accepted.”