#would you believe me if i said i was already working on this

[darknight3904]

buy me presents, baby!

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: The holiday season is packed enough as it is. On top of it all, Joel has a cute little girlfriend he just can't seem to resist spoiling...

Warnings: 18+ Explicit Smut Unprotected p in v, literally one spank, riding, missionary, Joel's a bit of a tease, pregnancy mention (no ones actually pregnant, don't worry) No outbreak au, modern au, viagra mention, unspecified age gap (mid/early-20s reader in mind), Rich older bf Joel!! I don't know how Hinge works sorry.

Word Count: 2.7k

Based on the song buy me presents by Sabrina Carpenter

Masterlist

The local mall was a buzz with what you swore was the entire state of Texas. Everywhere you turned, someone was brushing by you, mumbling an excuse me or just grunting an apology.

"Maybe we should just go home...There's so many people here." You say as you stand off to the side.

"Oh c'mon we drove all the way here, don't you wanna take a peek at some things, darlin'?"

Joel's warm southern tone sent a tingle of warmth down your spine. He was always so charming, that's how he won you over in the first place, his charm.

You'd stumbled across his Hinge profile six months ago. Your friend, Jess had jokingly set your profile to look for men over ten years older than you.

"Trust me, Dilfs are a whole different ballpark, girl!"

You hadn't believed her, after all, who would want some old half-bald, blue pill-taking man sitting across from them at dinner?

Things of course changed late one Wednesday night when Joel, 40 popped up on your screen. Not only did he have all his hair (and teeth!) but damn it he was so hot.

For lack of a better word, Joel was the perfect gentleman. He'd picked you up for your first date right at 7, opened all the doors for you, and even pulled your chair out for you to sit at the restaurant. Conversation had flowed so easily with him, that you'd almost forgotten you had just met the man across from you.

Fast forward a few months and here you were walking the mall with the head and Co-owner of Miller Construction Co. Joel's big hand cradled yours as he opened the door to Sephora.

"Said you needed some more of that lip balm you like right? Let's get it now."

You nodded and let him pull you into the store. He always did this, pulled you into stores so you could look at things. Of course, that wouldn't be a problem if he wasn't always buying half the things you picked up to admire. Hell, one time you were at Macy's with him and made a joke about the adult Spiderman onesie that was being sold, two days later it was sitting in your lap in just your size.

Jess had told you to enjoy it, to let him buy you everything your little heart desired but you couldn't help but feel guilty. You already spent most of your time sleeping at Joel's place, showering there, and eating his food. What were you even working for if you couldn't buy a measly lip balm for yourself?!

You pulled the one you wanted from the shelf. You'd run out a few days ago and your lips had begun to crack without it. Your eyes fell down to look at the price that was beside the scent

Twenty-four bucks?! That was nearly two hours of working at the shitty secretary job you had down at the local library! Whoever was setting prices at this company needed a serious reality check.

Joel's back was turned as he was staring at an array of brushes, mumbling that no one needed that many things for their face. Perfect! You could sneakily set this back on the display and-

"What're you doin'? Isn't that the one?"

Shit.

"Well yeah, but..."

"Then put it in the basket."

Joel's outstretched arm came up to present the little black and white basket he'd taken from a worker when the two of you entered.

"I just think that twenty-four bucks is too much for a little tube of lip balm. I think I'll just switch back to Carmex or Burts Bee's."

"Darlin' I'll buy it." Joel gave you a warm smile, "Let me spoil you."

"No way! You just bought me dinner!" You shake your head, thinking of your leftovers that sat in the backseat of his car.

"And now I wanna buy you a lip balm," Joel says taking it from your hands to put in the basket.

"Nope. We're not getting it." You say, pulling it from his hands and tossing it back on the shelf, "Let's leave."

Joel protests but lets you pull him from the store and back to the car.

Three days later...

Joel never liked shopping. He'd always been the kind of guy who bought the same shirt in multiple colors just because it made sense in his mind. Even when the company had taken off and he and Tommy were living comfortably instead of paycheck to paycheck, he hadn't really found an excuse to indulge and spend a lot of his hard-earned cash. Sure, he'd dropped a lot on a new car after his poor pickup truck had gotten rear-ended two years ago, damn teen drivers. Then, there was the new roof that his house needed last summer. But, both of those were easily paid off and Joel often found himself with a bank account higher than necessary.

It never bothered him, after all, it just meant retirement would come quicker, and if he ever had kids they'd have a lot of inheritance. Yes, Joel was happy living his simple lifestyle. Of course, that was until he met you...

You were just perfect in Joel's eyes. From the moment he saw you on that dating app Tommy had stuck on his phone, he'd known you were the one for him. Initially, he'd felt weird when he'd swiped on you, after all, you were so young compared to him. His fears though, they'd vanished the moment you started laughing at his lame jokes, adding your own even worse ones to the conversation. Yes, you were just perfect for him.

Now, it was December, the holiday season was in full swing and Joel found himself itching to spend some of that cash that'd been sitting in the bank for ages. He'd spent the last six months trying to keep the spending to a minimum, you always scolded him despite enjoying all of his gifts and he'd hate to make you feel uncomfortable. But after today when you'd put that little lip balm back on the shelf, he'd felt sad for you. Joel hadn't missed your small frown when it clattered back onto the display next to the others. You wanted that lip balm and, you were going to get that lip balm.

It was as if he was a man possessed. Three hours had passed since he'd walked into this mall and his arms were begging to feel a bit sore. Sure, he'd bought you the lip balm but before he knew it, he was wandering into all the other stores, looking for things that'd make you smile and cover his face in kisses. As he loaded the bags into the trunk a bit of worry crossed his mind. Had he gone overboard?

No, there definitely could be more...

December 25th, Christmas Morning at Joel Miller's

The warm scent of coffee had your eyes slowly pulling open. You groaned and pulled yourself out of bed, fumbling to pull Joel's shirt on before finding your discarded panties from last night. Whoever told you that older men needed Viagra to get it up clearly hadn't met Joel.

You padded down the steps to see Joel hunched over the stove, flipping pancakes while his beloved coffee maker brewed.

"Morning." You chirp, wrapping your arms around him, and resting your hands on his soft belly.

"Good morning." Joel's deep voice filled your ears

You greedily let your hands slip under the waistband of his plaid pajama pants. Joel lets out a hum and scoots away from you.

"Keep that up and we won't be eating or opening gifts til noon."

You roll your eyes and go to pour him his coffee.

After a delicious breakfast, Joel pulled you into the living room where your jaw nearly met the floor. Last night when you'd passed out in bed after the third round, there had been six presents under the tree, three from him and three from you. Now there had to be over triple that.

"What did you do?" You ask, spinning around to face Joel.

"What? I'm not allowed to spoil you?" Joel asks, a boyish grin on his face.

"It's like you bought the whole damn store and put it in your living room." You point out

"Not the whole store, just some of it." Joel laughs

Nearly an hour later, you were sitting in a pile of wrapping paper and bows.

"Alright, last one," Joel says, pulling a small gift bag with a snowman on it out.

You sigh in fake exhaustion, "Hand it over, cowboy."

Joel snorts and hands you the bag which a moment later you find has the lip balm you'd put back the other day.

"Went back and bought it for ya. Got a little distracted though..." Joel smiles

"Oh, only a little? Is that why there's lingerie and a new pair of boots sitting in boxes next to me?" You laugh, "Not to mention you even bought me a new frying pan."

"Yeah, just a little sidetracked s' all," Joel says, looking at the many different things he'd found for you.

"Thank you, Joel." You smile earnestly, "It's your turn now."

"Why don't ya model this for me, darlin'?" Joel asks, pushing the red babydoll dress towards you

"But what about your presents?" You pout, "I put a lot of thought into the one with the green paper."

"Give me a fashion show, it can be part of the gift." Joel coerces.

"Ugh, you're lucky you're hot, Joel." You huff, scooping the fabric up and heading off to the bathroom.

Joel lets out a long whistle as you reenter the living room, "Well, would you look at that?"

"Pervert." You scoff as he pulls you into his lap

"Not allowed to appreciate my girl?" He asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek

"You just wanted to see what my boobs looked like in red lace." You point out

Joel gives you a grin, busted.

"Nah, what makes you think that?"

Joel's lips capture yours and his hands secure themselves at your waist. Your resolve loosens as your hands curl against the soft skin of his chest.

"What about your presents?" You ask breathlessly when he pulls back

"Got everything I want right here." He says, "Let's go upstairs, this old man needs a bed if he's gonna fuck you silly."

Joel's hands are back on you the moment he kicks the bedroom door shut. His lips find yours again as his hands begin to pull the straps of your outfit off your shoulders.

Your back hits the mattress and one of Joel's big hands snakes down between your thighs.

"Still wet from last night." Joel laughs into the kiss

"Mmm, I think it was from earlier. Seeing you shirtless, cooking for me was hot." You admit

"Yeah? Y'like me cookin' for ya?" Joel asks

"Course, who wouldn't wanna see a hot old man cooking pancakes for them on Christmas?" You tease

Joel delivers a sharp slap to your inner thigh, "Not that old, darlin'."

"Sure you aren't."

You push at his shoulders and straddle him, loving the way his hands gently rest on your thighs.

You hum in delight as his hips lift and he pulls his pants off, finally exposing the rest of his body to your greedy eyes. Joel's lips ghost over your nipples, teasing them with his tongue as he lifts you up so he's notched at your entrance. Eager, you move to push him in but he stops you.

"What do ya say, baby?" Joel teases

"C'mon Joel..." You groan, "I want it."

"Ask nicely then," he clicks his tongue, "Go on,"

You huff a small breath of frustration and Joel's hands squeeze your hips.

"Please," You mumble

"What was that? This old man needs some help hearin' ya." Joel prods

"Please, fuck me, Joel." You groan, wiggling your hips as the head of his cock teases your hole.

"S' what I wanted to hear," Joel says, pressing a wet kiss to your neck

Joel's loud groan mingles with your girlish one as he lets you go to take him in. Your mind goes blank as your hips begin to rock. Joel's hands roam your body as he pinches and teases the sensitive flesh of your chest.

"C'mon girlie, give it to me." He encourages

"I'm trying." You huff, the feel of your burning thighs was slowing you down

A loud slap rings out followed by a yelp from your mouth. Joel's big hand rubs at the reddened mark on your soft skin.

"Don't worry, I gotcha, sweetheart, let me."

Your world turns as Joel lays you back down on the soft mattress, pushing your knees to your chest you're practically folded in half as he pushes in again.

"Fuck me..." Joel groans in pleasure above you.

"Already am." You laugh breathlessly

Joel shakes his head but you see the smile playing on his lips.

Rough thrusts steal your breath away as Joel begins moving his hips in earnest. The softness of his belly meets yours as he leans over you and presses his lips to yours. A hand pushes into the middle of your shared mess and a finger toys with your clit. A whimper escapes your lips as Joel groans when you tighten around him.

"Gonna let me come inside ya hmm? It'd be the perfect Christmas gift for me darlin'..."

Your brain is mush as Joel's finger plays with you while his cock relentlessly slams into you. Your stomach tightens as he continues.

"I-I'm gonna-"

"C'mon let it out, soak my fucking cock." Joel commands

As if he's magic your body yields to him and you come. A strangled groan leaves Joel's lips while your eyes slam shut.

"Good girl." Joel coos down at you, his hips never slowing.

"Joel!" You gasp, the pain of overstimulation beginning to ebb at your brain.

Joel lets out a soft moan of his own, his brow furred in concentration.

"Where?" He asks

"I-Inside" You gasp

Joel smirks, "Yeah? Gonna take it like a good girl? Let me knock ya up, pop out a brat for me in nine months?"

"Yes!" Your hips arch off the bed when his hand comes down to grind at your clit.

Joel's hips stutter against you and a loud moan escapes him as he fills you. Gentle thrusts follow as he comes down, dropping your legs as he does.

Joel flops down beside you on the bed, his chest heaves a bit as the two of you catch your breath.

"Y'okay?"

"Always." You say looking over at him with a dopey grin on your face

"Wanna go finish those pancakes?" Joel asks

You laugh, Joel was such a typical guy, thinking with his stomach, "You just fucked me and threatened to knock me up but your first thought is pancakes?"

"Well, I was gonna get a washcloth and clean ya up first, if that matters," Joel says

"Wow, what a gentleman." You scoff

"Glad you think so." Joel mumbles

You lay next to him in silence, listening to his breathing and watching his eyes flutter shut in satisfaction.

"What if we did?" You ask

"Did what?" Joel asks looking at you, "If you're talking about round two, I'll need a few more minutes, I'm not twenty anymore."

You slap his shoulder and roll onto your belly, "No, perv. I meant a baby. You were just talking about getting me pregnant."

Joel looks over at you like you've lost your mind, "Are you being serious right now?"

"Totally. You don't want a mini us running around?" You ask hopefully

"Course I do baby, didn't ever think a pretty young thing like you would want that with me though," Joel admits, pulling you towards him so you're resting partially on top of him

"Really Joel?" You scoff, "You're like the hottest guy in the world."

"Now you're just buttering me up." He laughs his head hitting the pillows behind him

"I'm serious!" You smile as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips

Soft silence flutters around you as you watch the gears turn in his mind.

"Gonna have to marry you if you start popping my kids out." Joel grins

"Of course," You laugh, "You think I'm gonna go into labor without a ring on my hand?"

Joel's nose brushes yours as he leans a bit closer to your face, practically breathing in your scent. His hand grasps yours where it rests on his chest.

"Guess I gotta start looking at jewelry then, darlin'. You're gonna have the prettiest ring in all of Texas."

"Ugh, there you go again, plotting to spend way too much money on me again." You groan in embarrassment.

Joel leans in and steals a kiss from you, the taste of pancakes and syrup lingers on his tongue as he does.

"Gotta humor me here," He smiles into the kiss, "Let me buy you presents, baby."

Consider this a mini-rant against the people behind the prices at Sephora. I'm looking at you Summer Fridays...

Want more Joel? Check out my series All Too Well.

[multipleoccupancy]

Sloane nodded thoughtfully and absorbed the single parent idea with just a small element of sadness, he knew she had lost her mother from their discussions on the constellations. He hoped it wouldn't be too painful for her to think about in the mission but he trusted her to say if it was the case. "We'll do that then, I am sure I can tug on the right strings to get them to let her in." He put on his very best sad expression, which was very convincing before he let it fade back into a warm smile for her.

"Yes I am hoping tonight will be a case of two birds and one stone." He looked to Killian and Violet, "maybe four stones, but that just means we can hit harder." He partly teased but he had promised they would do what they could to try and reverse what had been done to the student and it would start with catching and 'questioning' whoever it was behind the experiments. Fully understanding what it was Samantha was suggesting in her 'asking' idea.

He saw how he had made her speechless and he put a hand around her shoulder to pull her back into a small hug, caring and thoughtful hoping he had not upset her even as she thanked him. "They can still pick and chose who to send where," Sloane said of Delta Green and maternity leave, "perhaps you can be the person to start implementing the idea of maternity leave." He suggested with a flash of a smile. "But you should not put your life on hold for fear of things that might not even happen. You give so much to the missions and to the world that you deserve your chance to take a step back and live the life which you're protecting. You can put measures into place for your family. I have and when that time comes, just give me a clue and we'll talk through what you can do."

Theo was a little blown away at the idea of Fire Vampires looking and acting like bolts of lighting. He was struggling to work out if they were real or if Violet was perhaps being told something of a weird urban legend about them. But she had said she had captured them. It was very hard to believe, everything she said and had been through but for the rollercoaster of emotions already that night, he was happier to accept rather than question it as he went off to find the soda cans.

He picked up enough of them that they were spilling from his arms as he made his way back from the trash can. Not even batting an eye at having rummaged through it, too excited in the moment to at least feign disgust, but nice collage campus bins in the campus theatre were a safe bet compared to what he sometimes ended up picking through in New York. "Here we go," he said as he moved to the far side of the stage from her to start setting the cans out at different heights, some on the floor, some on a bench and desk.

Sloane gave Violet a smile and a very clear thumbs up for her showing him the crossbow as he nearly spoke out of the side of his mouth to Samantha. "We should probably limit the ammunition on that one." He suggested as he watched a fifteen year old waving around what had been a deadly weapon for centuries now. "I hope her aim is as good as she said it was." But Sloane made no attempt to stop either Violet or Killian, perhaps because he wanted to see if it would work and if he could and should let Violet use it in their plan.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Yes, it would be a lot more fun. "You're right," she admitted anyway, "let's try to play the teacher card first. You could tell them that you have her for the weekend but have to work late tonight. The single dad angle should mellow out whoever's in charge of the dorms." She spoke from experience.

"I bet we can finish the mission tonight," she echoed, perhaps more optimistic, or too optimistic. But like Sloane had said so himself, once they had the monster trapped, they could easily lure the man behind this awful experiment! "Whoever did this to this poor student might even know how to undo it. It'll be worth it to ask him once we have him." And by 'ask', Samantha did mean 'use force if necessary'. Which Violet would not be allowed to witness.

Sloane's words left her speechless for a moment. She blushed, teary-eyed. "Thank you," she finally managed after a few seconds, "I would like that, you know. Be a mother. But as long as I'm on the field... Delta Green doesn't really offer maternity leave." She looked at Violet and thought about how she adored her father. Then she thought about her own father. She loved him too. But she had still raised herself, in the end. "What if something happens to me? What if my kid loses me?" Her eyelashes fluttered. "I'm sorry." She knew Sloane had kids of her own.

Oh, right. This Theo didn't know about Fire Vampires. And she hoped he would never have to encounter one. "Fire Vampires look like huge bolts of lightning," she explained, "once they touch something, it bursts into flames. But as it turned out, they don't just look like lightning, they work like it too. So, they were immediately trapped inside my lightning rods." She grinned. "They seemed quite unhappy about it.

Violet trusted that he knew where to find empty cans -after all, he had been posing as a student at this university. She waited as he trotted to one of the bins, excited to try her crossbow. When she seemed to notice Sloane was looking at her, she waved in his direction and proudly pointed at the crossbow.

Samantha's smile was a little bit tense as she waved back. "If her weapon-making skills are on par with her trap-making skills... I think it will." Which was good, right? And also very worrying.

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |15 - Final|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 2.7k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Sam stood next to Tara as she got patched up in the ambulance. Sam couldn’t believe she made it out without another stab wound and that Tara only got stabbed in the shoulder. Her eyes drifted across the way to see you in the back of another ambulance, getting stitched up once again. It seemed you had been right; you tore open all of your stitches, again.

Chad was standing next to you, seeming to talk rather animatedly as he gestured around crazily with his arms. Sam was sure that when they got outside, they’d find Chad in a puddle of blood, but they didn’t, he had been completely fine. When Chad hadn’t been able to get ahold of Mindy, he said he went to go inside but the doors were all locked, so he ran to the nearest police station. By the time they were leaving the building police and medics were already waiting, a few minutes earlier and maybe Bailey and the others would have been arrested instead of dead.

“You know,” Tara said, interrupting Sam’s thoughts. She looked to see her sister was all patched up and now had a simple makeshift sling as she hopped down from the ambulance. “They’re not so bad,” she nodded in your direction. Sam followed her sister’s gaze and couldn’t help but smile. “I think you picked a good one.”

Sam let out a breathless laugh. She knew Tara was right, you were one of the good ones. They didn’t lose anyone with you by their side, you ended up getting the most hurt out of all of them in fact. Sam didn’t even want to know where they’d all be without you, she certainly didn’t think they’d make it out and she didn’t think she could handle losing any of them.

“I almost got them killed,” Sam said. She couldn’t see why you’d ever stick around; no one was crazy enough to put up with her after seeing her life. She figured you’d return to North Carolina and go back to your special ops missions; you were clearly quite good at it after all.

Tara scoffed and Sam looked back at her sister just in time to see her rolling her eyes. “You’re ridiculous,” Tara said. “They almost died for you!” She gestured at you. Sam furrowed her brow; Tara said the same exact thing she just did but in a different tone. Sam couldn’t figure out how it was any different, she was pretty sure you almost dying for her and her almost getting you killed meant the same thing.

“They’re still here,” Tara said slower as if that would make Sam understand better. Sam guessed it was obvious she was still confused because Tara threw her head back and let out an exaggerated groan. “They know everything,” she gestured widely. “And they still stayed.”

“They had a whole life before me.” Sam watched as the medic finished stitching up another one of your wounds.

“And you could be a part of it.”

“I don’t-”

“You deserve to be happy Sam.” Sam snapped her head towards her sister in shock, Tara sounded so confident when she said that. “You just got to take the chance:”

Sam sighed and looked back over at you. You stayed, you got hurt protecting her and her friends. Not to mention the fact that you also killed two people for her, probably would have done all three but you let her have Bailey. You didn’t need that kind of drama in your life, you could go back to your own life before you ever met her. Sam wasn’t even sure what a relationship with you would even look like. She worked two jobs to pay for the apartment and Tara would always be her priority. She would be stuck working dead end jobs because she never went to college, she barely got her high school diploma, but you were exceptional, you were smart and strong, you were a hero.

“Hey,” Chad said as he jogged up to the sisters. “I just got off the phone with Mindy.”

“Is she okay?” Tara asked. Sam watched Chad’s face with worry, they didn’t know anything besides the fact that Quinn apparently stabbed her. Chad had been asking for information on his sister since they got outside, several people said they’d learn what they could.

“Yeah,” Chad nodded. “She’s at the hospital, she said Gale also made it.” Sam couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, her and Gale may have had their differences, but she certainly didn’t want to see the woman die, Gale didn’t deserve that. “I was going to head down there now; did you want to come with?”

Sam opened her mouth to say yes, she wanted to see Mindy and even Gale for herself. She wanted to be able to tell Gale that they got them, that it was finally over. The words never came out though as her eyes drifted back over to you. Chad whipped his head back and forth looking between you and Sam, when she finally turned back to answer Chad he was giving her a knowing smile.

“They’re okay,” Chad said without even being asked. “Giving the medics a hard time.”

Sam couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle and roll her eyes. That definitely seemed accurate, they were probably trying to give you the best care possible while you insisted you were fine. Sam was sure the only reason they didn’t take you to the hospital was because you, once again, denied doing so.

“But you should talk to them,” Chad continued. Sam raised an eyebrow at that, she knew how much Chad liked you. Only one conversation and you had Chad vouching for you and had him telling you all about them, probably when you didn’t even ask. “They seem great!” He smiled innocently.

Sam rolled her eyes again; between Chad and her sister she didn’t know what she’d do. “We’ll meet you at the hospital in a bit,” Sam finally said. Chad nodded and ran off to a police officer who seemed willing to give him a ride.

Sam looked up just as you smiled and thanked the medic as she packed up her supplies. She looked back to her sister who gestured at her to go over to you. Sam sighed and made her way towards you. She had talked to you plenty of times, it wasn’t until you almost died trying to save her life, but since then it seemed like the two of you shared a lot. You talked about your past, Sam talked about hers, the two of you even shared a kiss when you spent the night. None of that meant you wanted anything more, if anything you’d probably want nothing to do with her.

“Hey,” you said as you hopped out of the ambulance.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked. She looked you up and down, her eyes seemed to only go to the injuries she knew you had and a the blood covering your shirt. She knew most of the blood couldn’t have been yours, it was most likely from Quinn and Ethan.

“Yeah,” you shrugged as if everything that happened to you was no big deal. “What about you?” Your brow scrunched up as your eyes searched her face. Sam hadn’t even been stabbed and yet you were asking if she was okay. “And your sister,” you nodded at something behind her and Sam glanced back to see Tara watching the two of you.

Sam rolled her eyes; Tara was relentless when she made up her mind about something. “She’ll be okay, has to wear the sling for a few day.”

You let out a knowing hum. “And Chad said Mindy and Gale made it. Guess everyone made it out,” you smiled.

“Only thanks to you.” You scoffed and let out a little chuckle as if you didn’t actually believe Sam’s words. “I’m serious.” You rolled her eyes, still clearly not ready to accept what Sam was telling you. “Hey,” without thinking Sam reached out and caressed your cheek which you almost instinctively leaned into. “You saved us, there is no way all of us would have made it out, especially with most of us unscathed.”

You gave her a soft smile, finally seeming to accept the fact that you wouldn’t win this argument. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence and Sam couldn’t help but get lost in your eyes as they stared into her own. “Your sister is staring at us,” you whispered, never taking your eyes off of Sam.

Sam felt her face heat up at that, she should have known you’d notice, you proved to be rather observant. “She’s making sure I talk to you,” Sam admitted.

“About anything in particular?” Your mouth twitched up in a smirk, as if you knew what Tara wanted Sam to talk to you about.

“I just…” the words got caught in her throat as she stared into your eyes. She couldn’t believe the person who was looking at her with so much cared had just killed two people, had killed them for her.

“Just what?” you rasped out. Sam wasn’t sure when she got so close to you, she had heard you as if you were the only two in the world.

Sam shook her head and pushed out all the voices telling her this was a bad idea and that you could still hurt her. She didn’t hesitate as she shot forward, catching your lips in a surprising kiss. She felt you stiffen but before she could pull away you grabbed her by the waist, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. Sam couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, it was even better than the first one and this time she didn’t intend on stopping you.

Eventually the two of you did have to breakaway because both of you needed to catch your breath. Sam couldn’t remember the last time she smiled so much, she bit her lip as she looked up at you shyly, as if she hadn’t just been to make the first move. She didn’t ask permission; she just went for it and the soft smile on your face was making her want to do it all over again.

“My life’s a mess,” Sam blurted out, but this time she was smiling as she spoke. “As you’ve seen,” she gestured to the chaos around them. “But, would you maybe,” Sam couldn’t help but bite her bottom lip as she was suddenly unable to look you in the eye. “Want to go out sometime?”

Sam glanced up through her lashes and was met with your soft smile. “I’d like that,” you said.

Sam smiled; it had been a long time since she asked someone out. She almost felt like she was back in high school, having her first crush. You gently put your finger under her chin and tilted her head up, so she was looking into your eyes again. Both of you couldn’t seem to help but smile as you leaned in for another kiss.

You broke the kiss quicker than Sam would like this time; she wanted to chase after your lips, but it was clear you had something you wanted to say. “Maybe I’m overthinking and rushing this,” you whispered. “Maybe our first date will go horrible, and you won’t want another.” Sam couldn’t help but silently chuckle at that, she didn’t think that was possible. “But I’m not easy to be with.” Sam furrowed her brow at that.

“I’m military, if I’m not deployed, I’m in North Carolina, I only get to come back home, to here, when I’m on leave, maybe a weekend, if I’m lucky,” you sighed, you seemed to really be stressing how little you would actually physically be able to be in the same place at Sam. “A lot of people don’t want to put up with that. You’re trying to lessen the complications in your life, I don’t want to add to it.”

Sam rested a hand on the side of your face, you closed your eyes as you leaned into her touch and Sam couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “I don’t think either of us can make any promises, or that we should,” Sam said. “But I’m willing to try.” You gave her what she could only describe as a relieved smile, as if you expected her to back down. “Let’s just live in the moment and take it day by day.”

“I like the sound of that.” You smiled and it seemed like you were about to lean in for another kiss, which Sam was more than happy to meet in the middle when the two of you were interrupted by someone calling out Sam’s name.

Sam furrowed her brow and turned to see Kirby being wheeled out on a gurney. “Oh my god,” Sam yelled and ran to Kirby’s side. “You’re alive!”

“I’m so glad while I was bleeding out, you two were making out,” Kirby mumbled, slightly drowsy from the drugs the medics gave her, or the blood loss.

“We weren’t the ones and who got ourselves shot,” you snarked.

“Hey,” Kirby pointed a finger at you, leaning up from the gurney slightly. “Remember who gave you that gun.” Sam’s eyes widened, she completely forgot you had a gun, one you didn’t tell her about. “And it seems it came in handy.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes and waved her off. “We’ll stop by and visit in a bit.”

Kirby nodded, seeming to get more sleepy the longer she laid there. “You did good sergeant.” You smiled at that and nodded for the medics to continue on towards the ambulance.

Sam crossed her arms as she stepped in front of you. She raised an expectant eyebrow at you, and you just tilted your head, as you pretended to be confused. “You failed to mention Kirby gave you a weapon,” Sam said.

“The less people who knew the better,” you defended. Sam scoffed; she couldn’t believe you were trying that with her. “And look, your sister is coming over,” you gestured to the side, effectively changing the subject as Sam glanced over and saw Tara was indeed walking over.

“So, you two together now?” Tara asked as a greeting.

“No!” Sam denied, she was sure her face was bright red after that. “We’ve barely known each other three days.” It felt like she had known you a lot longer than that, even if she didn’t count the longing stares she gave you at the gym the last three months. “But, we are going on a first date.”

Tara rolled her eyes. “Guess that’s something,” she mumbled. Sam smacked her sister in the arm and nodded towards you. Tara gave a dramatic roll of her eyes again. “You did good,” she nodded at you. “Total badass.” Sam closed her eyes and let out a long sigh, that wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. “And thanks for saving our lives,” Tara mumbled under her breath.

You took it well though and just quietly chuckled at her sister. “You weren’t so bad yourself,” you said.

“Come on,” Sam said, giving you and Tara a tired smile. “Let’s go check on Mindy and Gale.”

The three of you walked away from the flashing lights and the chaos all of you just survived. Sam couldn’t help but smile as her hand brushed against yours, until you took the initiative and took her hand within your own. She glanced at you out of the side of her eye and saw you looking ahead, the only evidence that you knew what you did was the smirk on your face.

“So,” Tara said, interrupting the peaceful silence. “How many dates do the two of you have to go on before I can meet the dog?”

Sam chuckled to herself; she should have known that would be a thing. The second Tara learned you had a dog her face lit up. Sam wasn’t sure she wanted to see your dog again; she was still a bit intimidated but based on the smile on your face and the way Tara was looking at her, she had a feeling she’d be seeing a lot more of the dog.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @acutenobody @godamnityess

@luvwanda @rqizzu @riyaexee @bella423 @rayisaknight

@assgradiangod @canyonyodeler @marsyay78

[constellations66]

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” she asked, genuine curiosity in her eyes as he craned his neck to look at her for a moment. She was a few feet behind him, attempting to stabilize herself on the ice, but failing to do so as she wobbled back and forth.

“What?” He grumbled, he knew what she said, but he was confused by her question.

“I saaaid, do you believe in love at first sight?” she asked again.

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Because I need to know if I should walk by again.” She said simply, a shit-eating grin spreading across her face as she attempted to keep her composure.

Not this shit again. He sighed to himself. He chose to ignore her cheesy line and picked up his pace slightly, their destination was now in sight as the wooden shack was going to be their safe zone for the night.

“Oh, come on, big cat,” she laughed to herself, using her chosen pet name for him that he asked her time and time again to not use, but she was fucking stubborn. It’s a code name. She’d argued. I already have one. He’d argue back. Yeah, but this one’s special because it’s from me. “You know, you should try meditating, it might help with getting that stick out of your ass.” “Or even better, you should get a massage, y’know, I know this really good place down the street from my apartment that does special massages, if you know what I mean, and I highly recommend it.” She smirked to herself, continuing to ramble on. Once again he chose to ignore her. His focus was set on getting to the safe house and getting the fuck home. She kept talking, and his body was on autopilot, giving a quick nod or a hum every few sentences as an acknowledgment of her talking.

The screech of her voice calling his name, Simon, was the last thing he heard before he watched her head disappear under the frozen lake.

“No, no, no, fuck,” he cursed to himself as he watched her struggle to keep her head above the freezing water. He acted as quickly as he possibly could, but carefully enough to not break the ice again. He fell onto his front and army crawled his way towards her panicking form, the position offered little help in attempting to lift her out but would help keep his weight distributed. Her eyes were wide with panic, her lips now turning blue and the skin on her face was bright red from the bite of the water. He finally reached her, quickly grabbing onto her arms to pull them over the edge of the ice so she was able to keep her head above the water as he attempted to get her out the rest of the way. She shivered uncontrollably, unable to say anything due to the shock of the water temperature as she looked at him with pleading eyes.

“I got you, don’t worry.” He reassured as he grabbed onto her gear and used it as leverage to pull her up and out. He carefully dragged her across the ice, getting a safe distance away before standing up and pulling her up with him. She struggled to stand on her own, gripping tightly onto his sleeve and digging her nails in for support. He turned his back to her and helped her climb up, securing her legs on his hips and wrapping her arms around his shoulders and neck. He kept one hand gripped on her thigh to keep her from slipping down, and the other held her hands together in front of his face for extra support.

Her body had stopped shivering at this point, which only made him panic as he knew her body was falling into a state of hypothermia. He could feel her ragged breathing against his neck as she attempted to cling to him for warmth but found it impossible in her soaking-wet clothes. The rest of the walk to the safe house felt like agony, for both. He kicked the door the second they approached it and was met with an empty room with a small fireplace in the corner. He gently slid her down his back and onto the floor before the soon-to-be fire. He worked quickly in pulling out his gear and knew exactly where he’d kept his fire starter. She whimpered quietly next to him, mumbling a few words out, cold, cold, Simon, cold. The fire was soon ablaze, and he let out a deep sigh of relief. His next step was getting her warm, and he knew the quickest way to do it.

He turned to her next, beginning to take off her gear one by one, her mask came first as the hat she once wore was long gone under the depths of the icy cold water. He pulled her backpack off her back and next came to her gear which he expertly tore off, throwing it to the side as he unzipped her coat with his free hand. He shimmied it off her shoulders and forced her to raise her arms as he gripped the bottom of her long sleeve shirt and tore it over her head. His arms circled around her form as he reached behind her and undid the clasp of her bra. She attempted to nuzzle into his embrace and was able to absorb a sliver of his heat for a split second before he retreated and began undoing her belt; she whimpered at the loss of contact. Her boots and socks came first as he chucked him aside with a loud thud against the wall and gripped the bottom of her tactical pants and yanked them down. He continued to work quickly and as respectfully as he could; he made quick eye contact with her before gripping onto the pair of boxers she was wearing and pulling them off. Her skin was red, and splotchy and felt like ice to the touch. He turned back to his gear and pulled out the emergency blanket that was folded neatly in the corner of his bag and threw it over her, tucking it underneath herself.

Now it was his turn to undress. He stood tall over her, quickly removing his skull mask, but leaving on his balaclava. He undressed similarly to how he did her but left on his boxers and socks. The heat from the fire burnt hot against his chest, but it was the opposite for his back, and it was exposed to the icy cold emptiness of the safe house. He positioned himself beside her on the ground, pulling up one side of the blanket, and scootched himself close to her. She immediately reacted, turning to face him as she gripped tightly onto him, her arms wrapping around his bare torso and shoving her face into his chest. He cringed at how cold her skin felt against his, gently rubbing up and down her arms to transfer his body heat to hers the best he could. Her nails drug across his skin as she attempted to pull him closer, her legs entangling themselves with his as she shivered beside him.

This went on for several minutes, her body slowly coming back up to temperature and her mind beginning to make sense of the situation. The adrenaline slowly wore off the longer she gripped onto him, her awareness of how close and how naked they had hit her like a truck and caused her cheeks to heat up. She knew he was a big guy, hence the nickname big cat. But seeing him exposed without his gear on only made her realize how much bigger he was. His shoulders were broad, and his skin was speckled in freckles, scars, and tattoos here and there. His arms were even bigger than she had imagined, his biceps were practically the size of her head, and his torso was strong, muscular, and built to withstand anything that came at him. The fire roared behind her as she admired his face through the balaclava, it wasn’t much different without the skull mask but allowed her to see a hint more of the shape of his features. His nose was sharp, and his chin jutted out perfectly. She could just barely make out the shape of his lips and smirked to herself as she admired them.

His eyes were closed and had been closed for most of the time they lay there, but he didn’t fall asleep, he couldn’t. He felt her shift slightly in his grip and he peaked one eye open and was met with her gaze. A shit-eating grin spread across her face. He knew what was coming.

“Aye, Lt,” she spoke, breaking the illusion of peacefulness he thought he had, “if you wanted to get me naked all you had to do was ask.”

[shysuccubusstuff]

husband! Zayne:

Content: SFW + NSFW hc, non proof-reading; established relationship + husband! zayne + consensual + praise kink; soft! dom into mean! dom Zayne (then back to soft! dom) : brat taming + degradation kink + praise kink + overstimulation + aftercare.

Note: So, I entered the game today and Zayne blew up my phone, one of the texts was about kaomojis and he said something about it being childish, even if he did it afterwards... I NEED TO MAKE HIM A DADDDD so freaking bad!! I'm pretty sure I already did something like this, but I just can't help it when I see such husband material... BTW Tomorrow is my birthday!! Time goes so fast :00 I hope everyone is able to rest during the holidays!!

♡ thinking about husband! zayne...

Hubby! Zayne. who proposed during one of your many outings, the sun was setting and you were sharing those old fashion snacks, laughing about how he had gotten the smaller side of the ice cream. You were still making fun of him when he suddenly got on one knee, his face completely red as he tried his best to get his severely prepared and rehearsed speech ready.

Hubby! Zayne, who makes sure to celebrate each single month , all the people in the hospital are completely aware of when that time comes, as they are able to see Zayne's uncontrolable smile during the whole week before the date. He makes sure to buy a beautiful bouquet for you, only using your favourite flowers and colours, that's the least he would do for you though. When your aniversary comes, better get ready for Zayne's constant pampering, always reserving some special place where the two of you can go together and spend some time alone, just him and you.

Hubby! Zayne, who makes sure to pay close attention to every single word you say, always answering to your rantings: "Oh, really? How could she do that to his long time fwb? Keep telling me, love."

Hubby! Zayne who prepares dinner the days that he gets home sooner than you, the table set and ready by the time you arrive home, sometimes even lighting up a few candles to give it a more romantic ambience.

Hubby! Zayne who sometimes appear without warning, he is resting his back against his car. As soon as he sees you getting out of your work, he quickly gets up, his right hand holding a plasting bag. "Just remembered you wante to go to that new restaurant, since I had time, I went and bought some take-out, do you want to go home and eat it?"

Hubby! Zayne who gets flusthered as soon as you start to think about having kids with him. He had been thinking about it for a long time, trying his best not to say it in case you felt unsure about it.

Hubby! Zayne who goes crazy just from the thought of filling your precious cunt with his essence, forcing himself not to get carried away as he keeps hitting the tip of his cock against your cervix, your insides clamping against his length making his mind foggy. What if he simply shoved you into the bed as he took away that damn condom, filling you to the brim as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

Hubby! Zayne who loves cuddling with you every single night, his sligthly cooler body quickly warming him up, maybe a bit too much, as you suddenly start to feel something poking you from behind.

Hubby! Zayne, who tries to act as if nothing is happening, slowly moving away as soon as he believes you are asleep, his hand tracing down his own body as he tries to reduce his erection as fast as possible just so he can keep embracing your body... Or so he thought.

"Zayne?" Zayne stops himself, quickly hiding it under his pants.

"...Yes, love?" You turn around, soon noticing how he had gotten away from you.

"Sure you don't need some help down there?" Zayne's face flushes, his eyes widening as he looked at you.

"...You noticed?"

"I mean, it's not exactly easy to ignore something stiff poking against my ass while trying to fall asleep, you know?" Zayne stopped your words, his hand covering your mouth as he tried to stop you from saying more embarrasing things.

"I, I just didn't want to bother you, I know you work so hard everyday so you must rest, this can wait until we have more time, there's no need to--" Zayne's words were stopped as you got on top of him with your hands massaging his chest while you started a deep kiss. "Love... we shouldn't, we have to wake up early tomorrow." Once again, you ignored poor Zayne's words, your hands quickly getting rid of his shirt, throwing it to the ground, your lips starting to make a small trail of kisses all over his neck to his chest. "You're always so..." Zayne's words were cut off, a deep breath leaving his lips before he was able to end his sentence. "...naughty." You smiled, almost a bit too happy to see him struggling under you, sadly, this soon reached its end, with Zayne swiftly changing positions, having you under his bigger frame. "Not so fun now, am I right, love? It seems I have been pampering a bit too much, now you even think that you can do whatever you want and have no consequences since I love you so much... But even brats like you should know when to behave." Zayne started to kiss you, his soft lips leaving small kisses all over you as his hands started to run under your clothes, his cold touch making your whole body shiver. "Not so funny now, uh?" With your whole body now completely exposed to Zayne it was almost impossible to stop him from finding your sweet spots. Zayne started to massage your breasts, his fingertips playing with your nipples while he sometimes gave them small licks. "Oh, they are perking up, seems I am not the only one who is weak to... someone's touch."

"You're talking too much, just-- Fuck..." Once again, Zayne's touch stopped you mid-sentence, his hands suddenly lifting your lower half and putting your legs over his shoulders, Zayne now kissing and leaving small licks all over that place, still not going for it, just teasing it. "Zayne, just, uh... please."

"Please what, love? I can't read your mind, I need you to say it to me." You clenched your fists as Zayne kept teasing you by kissing your inner thighs.

"...Please. Just... just make me feel good, I need you." That was everything Zayne needed, his mouth already moving towards your cunt, his lips kissing it and giving it a few licks before he actually started to play with your poor clit, his tongue making your whole body quiver as he started to use one of his fingers to play with your clit as he used his tongue to slowly enter you. After a few minutes, he finally introduced one of his digits, entering another as he considered you were finally ready for it. "Zayne... I need you now-- Give it to me."

"Don't rush, my love. We have all the night left." With that set in mind, Zayne ignored your pleas, having you lay with your legs wide open as he kept teasing you, stopping just before you were finally able to cum, making your mind start to feel fuzzy as he kept playing with your clit, his fingers still prepping your poor cunt.

By the time Zayne finally let your legs go, your whole body was trembling, your eyes tearing up as the overstimulation had gotten far too much, your hands fisting the sheets as you tried to avoid being heard by your neighbours. "Zayne, Zayne, please!... Just, can't think, I need you." Zayne chuckled at your pouty face, kissing your lips before he lifted you from the bed, sitting on the bed and finally letting his cock make his way inside your overwhelmed cunt, bottoming out with a deep groan.

"...You feel so nice, love." You rested your hands on his chest, trying your best to use your legs to try and lift your lower half, barely being able to take out a bit of his lenght. "Wait dear, let me help my sweet girl." As soon as he said that, Zayne's hands were already on your hips, carefully lifting you up before entering your cunt once more, kissing you as he tried to avoid your slutty moans to be heard by someone that wasn't him. Annoyed by his teasing, you tried to get Zayne to move faster, trying your best to release his grip on you, suddenly forcing you to slam yourself against him, a high-pitched whimper resonating in the bedroom you both shared. " It seems I haven't been able to put you in your place still, I suppose you really want to be treated like a brat, get fucked against the mattress while you cream all over my dick, so be it. It was foolish of me to think you would want to get pregnant while making love, you just love getting your brains fucked out by me, right?" Zayne quickly pushed you again, forcing you to face the bed as he started to slam his hips against your ass, the lewd sound reverberating in the room while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. "Speak, you always love running your mouth, why not answer me now?" Your nails digged on the sheets, Zayne pulling you by your hair without much force, just letting you breath so you could answer him.

" Sowwy--- I'm sorry! Sorry for being a brat, I love you, I love you Zayne... I love getting my brain scattered by your cock! Pleasee~... Just cum inside, don't pull out, please please Zayne!" Zayne once again teased you, turning you around just to see the face he loved so much, ashamed, you hid your face with your hands, trying your best to keep quiet as Zayne kept punishing you with his thrusts, your cunt gushing out each time he hit that special spot inside of you.

"That's my good girl, keep taking me so good, dear. You're doing such a good job, let me get you all nice and round, you will make such a good mommy... Keep cumming for me love, no need to think about anything else." So you did, your cunt pulsating as your mind was finally able to begin to clear up, Zayne's hands caressing your soft face while he kissed your wet cheeks. "You did so well, love. Promise I will pamper you the whole week, how about having breakfast in bed? We can then have dinner together in that new restaurant you keep seeing, yeah? Let me take care of everything." Nodding, you dooze off, Zayne's words resonating in your ears while he kept kissing your face.

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

Boyfriend!Sukuna was definitely not a shy man.

As someone who had tried every possible way to embarrass him, neither your actions nor your words ever worked. Every time, he’d look at you with the same seriousness—or even mild annoyance. Did you truly believe you could make him blush? It was ridiculous. There was no way someone as towering and unshakable as him would ever feel embarrassed to the point of turning red. It was simply impossible.

But for you, “impossible” was just a word.

You were leaning against his broad chest, sitting in his lap, as the two of you watched the snow falling onto the garden from your terrace. Sukuna wasn’t exactly the touchy type, but when you insisted, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for you.

“So, you’ve never been embarrassed?” you asked, your gaze fixed on the snow as it blanketed the greenery outside. Your question earned a low grunt from him.

“I was wondering how long it’d take for you to ruin the moment,” he replied, pausing briefly before adding, “Three minutes and forty-one seconds. Congrats, brat, you broke your previous record.”

His words made you laugh so hard your body shook, though Sukuna couldn’t understand what was so funny about his dead-serious comment. You were a peculiar one, that was for sure.

Suddenly, you shifted in his lap, moving to straddle him. His large hands instinctively settled on your waist, steadying you.

Who would’ve thought being held by four hands could feel this good?

As your fingers trailed through his pink, messy hair, Sukuna’s eyes fluttered shut—something he couldn’t help but do whenever you touched his hair. It always brought him an unexplainable calm, a sense of peace he found nowhere else.

“I’m good at breaking records,” you teased, a bright smile lighting up your face. Sukuna didn’t open his eyes, but you caught the faintest upward twitch of his lips—a rare, fleeting moment of softness.

“I can see that. You surprise me more and more every day, you cheeky brat.” The crimson eyes that most people found cursed and terrifying locked onto yours, though you found them utterly irresistible. While he’d never admit it, seeing you smile made everything in his world feel a little brighter.

Slowly, he leaned in, nuzzling his head against the soft curve of your neck. His lips found the sensitive spot behind your ear, and he planted a gentle kiss there, letting his teeth graze your skin ever so slightly.

“Just one touch…” His warm breath sent shivers down your spine. “One single touch is enough to turn your neck red. I’d bet your cheeks are even redder than your neck right now.”

He was right. Your cheeks were undoubtedly burning like wildfire. You knew your face had turned a shade rivaling a clown’s red nose.

“Kuna—”

“I want you right here.” His deep voice resonated through you. “Watching the snow while I bury myself inside your warm, tight little pussy.”

If you stayed like this any longer, everything he said would probably happen. You were already sore from last night. Besides, it was Christmas Day, and you wanted to do something other than just have sex with your boyfriend.

With great difficulty, you pulled his massive head away from you. If he wanted to stop you, he could have, but if he did, he’d probably have to endure you complaining to him for two hours.

Still holding his head, you scolded him, “Nuh-uh. Last night you nearly broke my back.” Furrowing your brows, you let go of his head and stood up. “I’m going to make us some hot chocolate, and don’t even try that ‘I don’t like sweet things’ excuse. I know who ate the Oreo Milka I bought two days ago.”

As you walked off the terrace toward the kitchen, you called out loudly, “Be a good boy, Sukuna, and maybe I’ll let you have me on the terrace later.”

Magic words didn’t always have to be “please.” After all, the word “please” didn’t even exist in Sukuna’s vocabulary. But if he had to pick one magical phrase, it would undoubtedly be “good boy.”

Those two words were enough to make your supposedly unshakable boyfriend blush furiously and feel his heart race in his chest.

It wasn’t the first time you’d called him “good boy,” but every time you did, he somehow managed to hide his face, avoiding your gaze.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who made others kneel at his feet, who inspired fear with his towering figure and unmatched strength, could turn into a shy mess with just two simple words from you: “good boy.”

a little note: can i get a little commotion for my red ribbon divider 😌

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

[ahqkas]

“WHEN YOU’RE LOST IN THE DARKNESS, LOOK FOR THE LIGHT — dick grayson.

PAIRING dick grayson 𝒙 fem!reader SYNOPSIS he was completely frustrating. him with his cheeky grins and perfect teeth. maybe that’s why it didn’t anger you when he took an interest in you WORD COUNT 5.6k WARNINGS / TAGS artist!reader, cursing, mention of reader’s hair, unedited NOTES yes the title is inspired by tlou & yes i compared dick to a blue jay. i decided to mix 2 different reqs ( req 1 & req 2 ) because they worked well together for me soo i hope it’s okay! © ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

IN ART, WHAT WE WANT IS THE CERTAINTY THAT ONE SPARK OF ORIGINAL GENIUS SHALL NOT BE EXTINGUISHED.

Said Mary Cassatt, and her words had echoed in your mind for as long as you could remember. There was something comforting in the idea that creativity—pure, untouched, and entirely your own—could endure even such cruel punishment as darkness. Darkness was a language you understood well, especially living in Gotham, where shadows devoured the city inch by inch until there was nothing but colorless void. The darkness wrapped itself around you, slowly seeping in to claim your soul as well, like the chill of a cold winter night creeping into your bones.

But even in a city this unfair, you believed there was still some beacon of light. Hidden, of course, but not extinct.

And so, you painted. You drew. You created. Every stroke of your brush and pencil felt infinite. Art was the closest thing you felt to immortality, and you clung to that belief like a child did to innocence.

Your small apartment was more than just a simple place where you lived. Every inch of the space bore a trace of you and of your determination to carve something special into the world. The walls, once peeling and beige, were now alive with color. A breath of life you granted the old home. It wasn’t much, your apartment, but it was yours.

The darkness couldn’t quite reach you there, and the light found you within your search for it.

It was late past midnight when you met him. The hour of the night was silent despite the fact you were living on one of the most dangerous streets of Gotham. Silent, but far from safe. The full moon hung high in the sky, its pale light struggling to pierce through the dark clouds that blanketed the whole night. Every so often, the moonlight would break free and shimmered a silver beam that barely softened the shadows.

You sat curled up on your old, beaten couch in your living room, aching legs tucked beneath you. The thrifted mustard-yellow couch sat beneath a gallery wall you’d arranged with so much focus you were unmistakably proud of the piece. The light from the fairy lights strung above the paintings softened the sharp edges of your apartment.

The pencil between your fingers moved along the paper with practiced movements of an artist as you clutched the sketchbook close to you with your free hand. You brought the drawing of a blue jay to life. Its small, delicate body was perched on the middle of the page, its head tilted slightly to the side as if caught mid-movement. The blue jay’s wings began to take a lively form beneath your hands.

You loved sketching birds—the way they had an open opinion of freedom in their feathers, how they could fly away from the weight of everything below on earth.

The quiet was broken by a dull thump.

Your pencil stilled, the sharp tip pressing into the delicate beak of the blue jay as you tilted your head towards the sound. It came again, heavier this time, right outside on the fire escape under your living room window. Living in Gotham meant you knew better than to ignore suspicious and strange sounds, especially at this hour.

Setting the sketchbook down on the coffee table, you slid off the couch with a pounding heart and bare feet padding softly against the wooden floor. The window was already cracked open, letting in a cold breeze of night air. It prickled at your skin and sent a wave of goosebumps down your spine.

You moved with an intention to investigate, your hand gripping the window frame when you leaned forward slightly to catch a glimpse of the intruder. Before you could fully stick your head through the opening, something shifted — a flash of movement so sudden that you instinctively took a step back to avoid bumping your head. Then, just as quickly, a figure shot up from the darkness surrounding your fire escape and you watched as his top half leaned against the window frame with effortless grace.

Anyone could recognize the symbol gracing his chest.

Nightwing was on your fire escape, practically with one of his halves in your apartment.

You blinked at him, startled at the unexpected visit from Gotham's (wait, wasn’t he supposed to be in Blüdhaven?) acrobatic vigilante. He stared back without shame. His face was partially illuminated by the soft glow of your fairy lights and his forehead, plus the top of his eyes, were hidden beneath the dark strands of his hair. Damp with sweat and light spray of rain. The black domino mask was doing little to hide the attractiveness of his handsome face, although it did not tell you his identity. Or the color of his eyes. The white lenses didn’t show any signs of life, it would be almost unsettling if it wasn’t for the other features of his face.

His jaw was sharp, the bone ready to cut through glass, and his lips held a shadowy grin in them. His chest heaved as if he’d just ran a marathon, or in his case, as if he’d just been in a chase. And his suit—a sleek, midnight black with that striking blue emblem—was marred by faint fabric tears and streaks of grime.

When he spoke up after a minute of analyzing you, his voice was breathless but warm, like he hadn’t just scared the life out of you by his entrance. “Hey. Sorry about the dramatics. Mind if I, uh, come in?” He glanced over his shoulder briefly, as though checking to see if someone had followed him.

You swallowed the lump that formed in the back of your throat, fingers still gripping onto the windowsill. You were pretty sure the surprise and disbelief etched into your face could be completely seen. “What? You’re joking, right?” those small words stumbled past your lips in a sharper tone than you intended. “You can’t just—“ gesturing vaguely to the fire escape he was standing on, you trailed off for him to finish the sentence himself.

But instead of an answer, Nightwing simply offered a grin, all perfect teeth. It was the kind that felt like it was meant to disarm you and melt you into a puddle at his feet. A swooning, pretty puddle.

“Technically, I can. But I’d prefer not to freeze out here while we debate it.”

Your reply to his cheeky comment died in your throat the moment you heard it—an angry bellow from somewhere below, followed by the unmistakable sound of boots thumping against the wet pavement. The voices were low and animalistic, only growing louder by seconds. Whoever they were, it didn’t take a genius to figure out who they were looking for.

Shooting him a pointed look with one of your eyebrows raised, you realized it was useless as he was already halfway through the window, ducking inside easily. He didn’t so much as flinch when his heavy boots hit the floor with a faint thud. You could only watch the trail of dirt and grime he was leaving behind himself. The sounds from outside faded into muffled whispers when he closed the window, and effectively scanned the room with a quick glance.

“You really have a way of making an entrance,” you mumbled under your breath as you gave him space and moved back towards the sofa. The sarcasm wasn’t meant to reach his ears but with the way one corner of his lips tugged up, you knew he heard every single word. Did this guy have super hearing?

The faintest glint of amusement danced on his features, despite the lack of emotion in his hidden eyes. You could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed and his lips quirked up. “It’s part of the job description,” he replied to your remark casually, as if crashing into strangers’ apartments was just another Tuesday for him.

With a sigh, you shook your head and leaned back against the arm of the couch, watching him move around the living room. He didn’t sit, didn’t relax, didn’t even pause long enough to breathe out the weight of his situation. Instead, his gaze grazed over everything in clear sight — your paintings on the wall, the cluttered coffee table and its content, the pencils scattered across your notepad.

He was strange.

“What are you doing?”

“Just checking,” his response came quickly, he was probably distracted by the hand brushing against the edge of the window frame as he double-checked the latch.

You watched him carefully and tried to not let his presence throw you off. There was something unbelievable about seeing him there, in the heart of your apartment of all places, where every inch of the space was yours. Technically, he was in your territory now.

“Don’t worry,” Nightwing added with humor etching his voice when you didn’t say anything. “I’ll be gone before you know it.”

“Take your time,” the dripping sarcasm got out the exact same reaction from him just like before, and you watched as he smirked at you, the corner of his mouth tugging upward in a way that told you he was far too used to getting under people’s skin. Cheeky bastard.

This inspection of his lasted for a few more minutes before his pacing slowed down and his masked eyes landed on your beaten couch. The faint amusement in his features shifted, softening into something more thoughtful as he approached you. You stiffened when he got close enough. The light scent of cologne hit your nose from the proximity.

Gloved hand reached for your notepad, and you watched him again when he started tracing the soft pencil lines of your sketches. You seemed to watch him a lot tonight, but you didn’t dare to interrupt him. He was still a stranger and you lived alone. The vigilante could take you down without breaking a sweat, no comment.

The blue jays stared back at him from the page with their wings outstretched mid-flight, the faint smudge of pencil giving them a sense of movement, like they could lift off the paper and fly toward their freedom at any moment.

“You drew these?” the question slipped before he could think of it and the raw quietness of his tone surprised you.

You hesitated before you gave him the answer. “Yeah, I did. What, are you secretly an art critic, too?”

His lips twitched, but his eyes stayed on the sketches. “Blue jays,” the murmur was more to himself than to you. “They’re nice.”

“Nice?” you echoed back at him, a small smile ghosting your lips upon hearing his praise. “That’s your verdict? Nice?”

This time, his wide grin returned as he glanced at you from your artwork. You decided on the spot that you liked this look on him. He could be all sharp edges and rough words, but the genuine smiles and clever remarks were a part of him, too. “Hey, I don’t know the first thing about art. But they’re good. Really good. Why blue jays though?”

You shrugged your shoulders, crossing your arms around yourself tightly. His clear interest in your work made you feel strangely exposed. “They’re . . . free. They can leave whenever they want, fly away from everything. I guess I like the idea of that.”

Nightwing was quiet for a moment, his masked gaze flicking back to the page like he was seeing something more between the colors and lines you’d drawn. He really was strange. “Makes sense,” he said finally. “They’re tough, too. Survivors.”

For a man who’d just come crashing through your window, being chased by a bunch of angry goons, he suddenly seemed relaxed. The birds meant more to him than he was letting on.

“Guess that explains why you like them.”

“What, you think I’m a blue jay now?”

A smirk made its way to your lips, and you felt a slight hint of satisfaction brewing inside you. You finally got him. “You said it yourself. Tough. Survivors. Seems fitting.”

It was a strange image, seeing someone who carried so much weight on his shoulders standing here, in your little apartment, admiring a simple sketch of a bird. Most people assumed he was a machine under the suit, someone who did their job because it had to be done. But you saw the life in his smile and heard the feelings in his voice. Red flooded his system like any other human being possessed. A beating heart and marred skin. He was human, even under all that armor.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, effectively breaking the silence that followed your cheeky remark. “I’m glad my art could distract you from the mad mob outside.”

That earned you a genuine laugh, low and rich. You noted he had a nice laugh. Everything about him was nice, though. Maybe it was because it was the first time seeing him from up close or maybe it was simply that he got your attention.

⋆.˚ 𓅆 . . .

The next few days were rather busy. You had more work on your shoulders and your family kept pressing about your upcoming visit (spoiler alert; you didn’t really plan on visiting them). Your family members lived far from Gotham, which you were particularly glad for. One boring and busy day went after the other, and so did you with your life. You weren’t going to admit it, but you missed the sudden excitement the cocky vigilante brought with him. It was something new, something that wasn’t boring.

The wind carried a chill that nipped at the exposed skin of your face, numbing your cheeks in the process. The streets of Gotham were alive despite the coldness the new day brought with itself—the city never really stopped, even when it probably should have. Your tea sat untouched beside your half-eaten croissant, warm steam curling lazily above the porcelain cup, while your hand moved steadily across the pages of your sketchbook.

You were drawing another blue jay. This one was perched on a thin branch, its head cocked slightly with ruffled feathers as if caught in the same breeze that howled right now. The pencil lines of your drawing were sharper this time, more confident, though you weren’t sure why.

Maybe it was because you couldn’t stop thinking about them—the blue jays.

It wasn’t like this hadn’t happened before, your thoughts fixating on a subject, but this time it felt different. Ever since that night, when Nightwing had stood in the heart of your living room and held your sketch like it was something worth admiring, you’d been thinking about them more and more often. Birds had always represented freedom to you. A fleeting kind of beauty, one that wouldn’t last long. But now they carried something else. Something more.

You found yourself replaying his words in your mind while you shaded the curve of the blue jay’s wing, your pencil working instinctively as the low conversations and local sounds of the café faded into a hushed whisper. The bird began to take shape, its tiny body beaming with life.

The next thing you knew, the chair you were sitting on rocked slightly and your bag was violently jerked from the edge of the table.

It took you a second to process what had happened. One second, your purse was there, sitting by your side, and the next, it was gone. Snatched by a blur of unidentified movement. Your heart skipped an uncomfortable beat as you whipped your head towards the stranger, catching sight of the thief bolting through the crowded street.

Panic started to settle in. Your bag. Gone. It was gone. Everything was in there—your money, your keys, your ID. The grip of your fingers on the pencil in your grasp tightened while adrenaline surged through your veins. Without having any second thoughts, you shot to your feet. The chair scraped loudly against the floor and you bolted after him.

“Hey! Stop!”

The thief was already halfway down the block when you finally pushed past the crowd with alarming speed. Your boots moved without any more thinking. He wasn’t particularly tall, but he was quick on his feet, his figure darting between pedestrians who shouted in surprise and yelped in confusion when he pushed into them to clear his path. Your lungs burned as you tried to push against your limits and keep up with him. The strap of your bag was swinging wildly in his grip.

“Stop!” you shouted again, although you doubted he would listen. He wouldn’t. People around turned to look at the chaos, but no one made a move to help. It was Gotham, after all — everyone looked after their own self.

The thief rounded a corner, successfully disappearing into an alley, and you felt a pinch of dread forming in your stomach. You didn’t know this part of the city well, and the narrow alleyway clothed in shadows sent a wave of goosebumps down your spine. Hesitation brewed in you for a moment before you made up your mind. Fuck it. You didn’t care that chasing him was reckless. You didn’t care that you had no plan for what you’d do if you actually managed to catch up to him. All you knew was that he had your bag—your life—and you weren’t about to let him get away with it.

Whoosh!

You barely registered the sound at first. Your focus was entirely on your thief, the dark shade of his jacket disappearing deeper and deeper, just beyond your reach. The puffs of air left your lips in a sharp shape and the cold air didn’t help much. But you didn’t stop running. You couldn’t stop.

Then, out of nowhere, a dark blur descended from above, landing right in your path.

“Whoa, hold it!”

The familiar drawl of his voice ringed in your ears before you saw him. You skidded to a halt, nearly losing your balance as his figure stepped into the sight. His arms were outstretched to block your way, and you felt a sudden burst of frustration upon his appearance. After all, you still had a bad guy to catch.

“Move,” moving to the side, you tried to sidestep him and start your chase again. Key word—tried. He shifted smoothly, following your movements like a mirror.

“Not happening,” he interrupted you firmly. “You can’t go running after some guy who might be armed. You don’t know what you’re walking into.”

“I don’t care. He has my purse—my money, my keys, everything! I have to—“

“You have to stay here,” Nightwing cut you off again, and you pushed the urge to strangle him away. His presence was infuriating, even though you could see every muscle in his jawline tightening and tensing. He was holding back, that much was evident.

“I don’t need your help.”

His hands shot out the moment you tried to brush past him again, gloves catching your biceps in a firm hold. It wasn’t painful, nor would leave any marks in the form of bruising, but he held you in a grounding manner. Almost as if he wanted to calm you down.

“Yes, you do,” the glint of seriousness in his gaze made you halt in your argument. He meant every single word. “Look, I get it. You’re pissed, you’re scared, and you feel like you have to do something. But this guy could have a knife, or worse, and you’re completely unarmed. He’s probably long gone by now, too. I’ll track him down and get your stuff. That’s a promise, Blue.”

You swallowed hard as the fire that fueled your intentions died a little bit. He was right, even though you didn’t want to admit it.

“Fine, but you better catch him.”

A small, reassuring nod and a gentle squeeze was all you received from the masked vigilante before he released you and took off after the thief. A moment later, you realized he gave you a nickname.

Blue.

⋆.˚ 𓅆 . . .

The thick steam from your earlier shower still lingered in the bathroom, curling faintly in the air and clinging along the tiles and the edges of the mirror as you massaged moisturizer into your skin like you did every night. It was a routine by now. One you were excited to participate in. Your favorite playlist hummed softly from the phone propped up on the counter near the sink, the melody blending with the occasional rustle of the city outside your window.

Gotham was quiet tonight. No sirens. No shouts. Just silence.

You signed and leaned against the counter as you let the coolness of the white cream soothe your skin. The events of this day were rather . . . unpleasant. Your purse was gone, and the thought of all the things you’d lost still made your chest ache. Your keys, your ID, even your favorite pen you always kept in the front pocket—all gone, snatched in a moment. But at least you were safe. Nightwing had made sure you didn’t dive head first into what could have been a disaster.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him, either. The way he’d swooped in like some kind of a movie hero. For a man who lived his life surrounded by constant danger, he’d had this unmistakably calmness about him, like no problem was big enough to not handle.

Reaching for a soft towel, you patted your face dry with it when you finished the last step of your nighttime routine. A moment of realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

Your sketchbook.

Your heart sank deeply in your chest, and you froze, gripping the towel tightly. You’d left it at the café. It must’ve been sitting there on the table, untouched, while you chased after that thief like a reckless idiot. You would be lucky if you found it where you’d left it lying as there was a possibility of a tired barista throwing it away.

That notepad wasn’t just another notebook to you. It held weeks, months, of drawings—ideas, experiments, half-finished sketches that no one but you had seen. And the blue jays he praised . . .

The day’s exhaustion weighed heavily on your tense shoulders as you finally made your way to your bedroom. You switched off the light in the hallway, plunging your apartment into darkness save for the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the cracks in the blinds.

A dark shadow caught your eyes the second you stepped into the room and your heart nearly leaped out of your chest. There, casually perched on your windowsill was Nightwing, dressed in shadows.

His grin was the first thing you recognized on him, the wide stretch of his lips almost haunting in the darkness. His teeth appeared almost sharp, like canines of a predator. But he wasn’t here to hunt tonight. One gloved hand held your bag, dangling it from his fingers as if presenting you a beloved prize.

“Miss me, Blue?”

“Are you insane?” hissing, your palm resting against your beating heart. “You can’t just show up like that!”

A delighted laugh rumbled deep in his chest as he stepped inside like he didn’t invade your personal space and almost gave you a heart attack. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

He tossed your stolen (now found) bag on your bed with a flick of his wrist. It took you a moment to process what you were seeing but when you did, your panic gave away to stunned disbelief. “You got it back?”

“Of course. I promised you.”

The smug look on his face softened after those words left his throat. You crossed the room in quick steps, rushing to get your hand on your belongings. Once it was in your hold, you rummaged through the inside. Everything was still there—your keys, your wallet, even the blue pen you favored so much. Relief flooded your system and you finally felt your shoulders relaxing. It was all returned.

You glanced at him from the bag, suddenly feeling somehow embarrassed. “I—I don’t even know what to say.”

“How about ‘thank you, Nightwing, for saving the day’? That would do,” the arch of his eyebrows told you he was enjoying this, if only a little. Smug bastard.

Rolling your eyes, you felt your lips tugging into a smile anyway. “Thank you for getting me my bag back. Happy?”

“It’s exactly what I wanted but yeah, very.”

A minute of silence stretched between you, one that wasn’t entirely comfortable but during that time, you studied him. He was leaning against the edge of your bed, just shy away from your side.

“You’ve been drawing them a lot, huh?”

“What?”

“The blue jays,” Nightwing gestured towards your desk with his free hand, the other behind his back. He looked strange, amusing even, but you didn’t dare to point it out. You followed his movements, eyes sliding toward your desk full of stray papers. He was right, the wooden space was filled with your recent works, and among them were multiple pieces of those blue birds. “You were working on them that night. At the café, too.”

Your lips parted slightly to voice your confusion, but the words didn’t come. He had noticed? And kept track of it? You didn’t know if you should feel creeped out or honored.

You didn’t get to react much before he perked up. “Oh, almost forgot,” pulling the occupied hand from behind his back, you noticed he held a small book in it.

Not just any book, though. Your sketchbook.

“You went back for it?” the disbelief dripped from the tone of your voice as you reached for the notepad. Your fingertips brushed against his gloves when you did so, and a spark of light crossed through you at the faint touch.

“Figured you’d want it back,” he tried to act nonchalant, shrugging his shoulders without a care in the world, but even if you knew him for such a short period of time, you could tell he was just acting. The subtle tone of his voice betrayed him, along with the rosy dust painting his cheeks. Your thumb traced the broken spine of the notepad. The thought of him chasing down your thief, retrieving your stolen stuff, and then returning for your more personal thing left you speechless. He didn’t have to, but he did—again.

He was so close to you now that the faint scent of rain and city clung to him, mixing with his natural fragrance. You could inhale it all while you saw everything, too—the sharp line of the bone in his jaw, the slight furrow of his brows like he was constantly deep in his mind, and even the way the moonlight caught on the pink dusting the top of his ears.

His pose shifted lightly, in a way that made the space between the two of you feel almost nonexistent. Your instinct told you to move, but your feet didn’t move.

“You’re . . . really something, you know that?”

Your heart beat against the bones protecting your ribs so loud you swore he could hear it. The white lenses of his black mask flickered all over your face, almost like he wanted to memorize every delicate detail, like he wanted to count every lash on your eye individually.

“You barely know me.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, “but I think I’m starting to.”

No response made its way past your lips. It died at the base of your throat, and no one could rip it out of you.

His hand reached out in your peripheral vision, slowly, like he was giving you an option to stop him whenever you felt like. There was no force between you, just purity of the actions. When you didn’t stop him, he moved bolder and louder, long fingers tracing the curve of your cheek before brushing against the damp strands of your hair. He pushed it back behind your ear, his touch lingering even there.

You could feel his breath mingling with yours, becoming one.

And then, just as you felt the unmistakable pull towards him, Nightwing pulled away. He took a step back like he remembered who he was.

“Take care of that,” he nodded towards your hold that clutched your sketchbook.

You opened your to say something, anything because what the fuck was he doing when he jumped out of the bedroom window, leaving behind the what ifs if he stayed with you.

⋆.˚ 𓅆 . . .

The rooftop had become your favorite spot to disappear from your responsibilities. The view was magnificent with how the city stretched out in every direction and you could see everything. The chaos was muted up here, replaced by singing of the birds and occasional flutter of wings. This place was comforting.

You sat cross-legged on the concrete with your sketchbook propped in your lap, pencil in hand and mind open to new ideas. But the paper brewed alive with yet another drawing of a blue jay. Something about them had rooted itself in your head.

Pausing in your work to glance up at the sky, you were greeted by the most remarkable sight. Caught by the horizon where the sun dipped lower, brushing its streaks across the rooftop in a golden orange. The light breeze tugged at your hair, and you reached up to tuck it behind your ear. You managed to smudge a piece of graphite along your cheek upon the gesture. Your sketch was coming along slowly today; your mind kept wandering off and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched.

Which you were correct about.

“Nice view,” a familiar voice drawled.

You flinched upon the sound, nearly dropping the tools on your knees as you whipped your head toward the source. There he was, perched on the edge of the rooftop, the sunset behind him painting him like some sort of an angel. Nightwing.

“Seriously? Do you ever not sneak up on people?”

The cheeky smirk made its usual appearance on his lips when he hopped down from his spot, taking slow steps towards you. It was impossible to stay annoyed at him, with that face and easy charisma. “Where’s the fun in that?”

With a roll of your eyes, you couldn’t help but smile a little. “What are you even doing here?”

“Patrolling,” he replied casually to your question, just like he did the night he came to return your bag. Trying to act all nonchalant, but deep down he cares. You know that. He’s acting again. You could tell by the experience and by the tone of his voice. It suggested otherwise from his answer. His masked eyes shifted to your knees, noting the open book. “Another blue jay?”

“I’m trying to capture the way they look when flying. It’s harder than it seems.”

You watched him while he watched your drawings. The vigilante crouched down beside you, his knee bumping against yours softly, almost as in unsaid greeting. He was saying hello while you responded hi back. “You’re getting better.”

Silence draped over the two of you after that sentence left his throat, this one much more comfortable than the one you experienced the week before in your apartment. His elbows were resting on his knees, which bumped into yours from time to time in a silent gesture. Your eyes found the white lenses behind the domino mask.

“You’re not gonna disappear this time, are you?”

“No.”

Your sketchbook lay forgotten in your lap as you gazed into the void of his eyes. You couldn’t read the emotion in them but you somehow could tell every single feeling brewing inside him. It was written across his face, open like a book.

“You’re staring,” you whispered.

“So are you,” his reply was quick, like he knew exactly what to say the moment you spoke up.

A faintest tug at your lips brought the corners up in a smile, but it faltered the moment he leaned in, taking up your personal space inch by inch. He was moving slowly, giving you the opportunity to pull away, to reject him and his touch if you wanted to. But you didn’t.

His palm hovered near the curve of your cheekbone close enough to feel the warmth seeping through the glove. He cocked his head slightly to the side, as if silently asking you a question he was too caught up in to say aloud.

“You’ve got graphite on your cheek.”

“Do I?”

He brushed his thumb across the smudge, wiping it away. He didn’t pull away once your skin was clean.

You noticed the way his eyes briefly dropped to your lips before flicking back to meet yours, searching for an answer he so desperately wanted to hear.

If you didn’t want this, he’d pull back. You knew he would.

But you didn’t want him to.

Leaning in, you closed the little distance between you, and that was all the answer he needed. His lips met yours firmly, pressing against yours like a puzzle, like they belonged there. Your hands gripped at him, fingers moving to the base of his neck to grab a handful of his black hair and pulling slightly to deliver a message.

Although the darkness around you enveloped you, clothing the day in dark, you felt a spark of light every time his lips pressed against yours more urgently, licking and biting his way inside to get a taste of you. You felt it when his gloved hands tangled in your hair, tugging you impossibly close to make you his.

His forehead came to rest against yours when you eventually had to pull away for a fresh breath of air, both his and your breaths uneven.

“Tell me I’m not gonna regret this.”

“You won’t.” That was a promise.

Because when you’re lost in the darkness, you should look for the light.

[boysbeware2]

all the old tptm girl journal entries w the new (if anyone wants to see them again and compare them)

please proceed with caution as many of these could be upsetting to read

disposable girl (jordyn)

(old)

i cant fucking stand this. i try so goddamn hard to make friends, to be attractive to people, to be even somewhat appealing to them etc etc. it never works. i thought it would get better the older i get. thats what i was told. guess what! i was fucking lied to!!! im alwasy left out of EVERYTHING i never get invited to shit and my own friends ignore me all the time. everyone looks at me weird. i cant go in public anymore im so fucking terrified of everyone. nobody fuckinf wants me, man. im so close to doing something stupid i feel so gross and ugly and dumb i should actually just die id be doing everyone a favor LOL

(new)

man, i havent been on here in forever. the internet is kind of dumb. what is there to say? my friend group celebrated our outpatient graduation anniversary the other day, that was pretty nice. we’re all trying to figure out housing stuff, nora’s been helping with that. freyja + mayra + kairi found a place already (how are they so responsible??) and the rest of us are trying to find places near them so we can visit more often. i never expected to have such a big group of friends. if you told me 2 years ago that i’d be living like this, i wouldn’t believe you. it’s still surreal to me. i’m not sure what i did to deserve them. same goes for my girlfriends. i don’t wanna say who just yet, we’re still figuring things out, but i’m just so thankful for them. i feel so lucky to have a second chance at life. i really didn’t believe people when they said it would get better, and then it did. how funny…..

irreverent girl (kairi)

(old)

I do not want God to see me anymore. I do not want anymore eyes on me. This is near unbearable. I have no one to turn to. My mother is in the church. Many of my friends are in the church. They would tell me to find hope through Christ. They would tell me to pray to Him. They would tell me that He will save me. He must not remember He made me, and if He does, He simply does not care. I know this is unbecoming of me, and I don't mean to be dramatic. I am simply depressed, nervous, and I cannot tell what's real and what isn't anymore. I know I'm supposed to hear God speaking to me, but I do not, and I am tired of straining my ears. I just want to see a doctor. I want some kind of tangible solution. I do not want to pray anymore. Praying hurts. I only do it when I am afraid, but I am afraid much of the time. I don't want to be unheard anymore. I do not want to hold out hope for someone who does not act like they're there. I am hurting. I am hurting. I am hurting. Belief is hurting me. The idea of God is hurting me. I need an out. I am hurting.

(new)

When I have a job and money and I can move away from my shitty Mormon parents

splitter girl (tahira)

(old)

theres something so broken in me thats beyond saving. so i dont know why i keep trying to be saved. i meant to kill myself when i was 18. i didnt. all ive wanted to do lately is kill someone or something. i havent. im too much of a pussy to plan anything concrete, no matter how much i hate everyone around me. no matter how much i get off to videos of people dying or how much i love cutting myself i cant actually take action against other people. i am fucking purposeless. i was born from evil and i will always be evil and i cant even live up to that. i hate myself i hate myself i HATE myself and the universe hates me too. i dont know what to fucking do at this point. i talked to one of my friends about wantingto die and they said smthn about hospitalizing myself. maybe. i dunno. i dont know what else there is for me/. my eyes are fucking burning from lookign at my computer for so long adn not getting any goddamn sleep. i am not a good person. i dont think i can be helped but i just dont wanna fucking keep goign to school and being around people and pretending like everything is norma;l. i cant keep doing it. what the fuck is wrong with me whagt happened. why cant i be loved or feel love for other people when did something change in me that switched the aggression and affection parts of my brain. im hyperventilating ill be back. maybe

(new)

getting myself onigiri from this one good boba place 2nite bc im 8 months clean…… its the little things~ ^^

fainéant girl (freyja)

(old)

i know i dont hate being disabled... i just hate being disabled in a society that makes existing difficult... but sometimes i really just dont want to be disabled anymore. i dont want my family to lecture me about how i could be helping out more, or how i should get a job. i dont want teachers to keep asking me whats wrong or the fuckin uni counselor to try to get me hospitalized. i dont want to be in so much pain anymore, to feel so exhausted that i cant even do so much as prepare food for myself, let alone do anything meaningful or fulfilling. its not fair. i shouldnt have to stay inside and sit in the dark all day,. i should be able to have friends. to talk to people and to go out with them and to feel like i am alive. its lonely and traumatic to suffer through this and on top of that no one around me understands, and they never fully will. i am tired of trying to justify my existence to everyone, to explain the pain that i am in and why i shouldnt have to experience it. i know the problem isnt me. i know i live in a world that isnt built for me. but if the world cant change then sometimes i truly feel that i should just stop living in it. my lifespan is already shorter than everyone else's anyways. what difference does it make

(new)

my qpps didnt seem to appreciate me playing Alien Kids Alien Rap for them. Do they even love me

caliber girl (nora)

(old)

唉～It is 3 AM and I should go to sleep but I can’t. I have a work zoom meeting early in the morning and I gotta hit the gym also because I haven’t done leg day in like… weeks. Oh well, it doesn’t even matter. My value is depleting but I don’t think I care anymore. The turnaround date for my code is also in a couple of days and I haven’t made any progress. I keep getting the same error and I’m too tired to figure out what’s wrong. I might get fired at this rate LOL(笑). If that happens, I think I’ll just consider ending it all. Not that anybody will miss me. God I sound so weak and pathetic right now. When did it get like this. How did it get like this. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse before and this is nothing. Ugh, why is it so hard to breathe? My chest hurts and I feel like something is wrong but I don’t know how to make it go away. Should I call someone about this? No. No one is awake or around to help. I’ll be fine. I’ll just sleep it off. Shake it off… shake it off…

(new)

My Tamagotchi beeped during a meeting fml

chocolate box girl (morgan)

(old)

i thought i was doing better but i cant stop thinking about them. their touch, their interests, their smile, everything. the worst part is that i miss them, after all of what they've done to me. i was 13. i dont even feel justified calling it rape since our relationship was so muddy... they never yelled at me or was angry at me, they just got so sad when i tried to speak my mind, and got all my friends to hate me when we finally broke up. i never said no so i feel like im insulting actual survivors by feeling violated. i wasnt even trying to get into a relationship with them, it just happened... i feel like everyone around me wants me in the same way they did, even though im an adult now and i dont even try to make myself appealing. i wish i could trust people not to take advantage of me, and i feel disgusting and selfish for feeling like everyone has ulterior motives of getting me to fall in love with them, or worse. that's so self centered of me. i dont know how long i can keep doing this

(new)

girl help i cant stop looking at anime figures on japan yahoo auctions !!!!!

taxidermy girl (mayra)

(old)

I don't remember ever not having a sex drive, is that normal ? I was born and then it was all downhill from there, something happened to me sexually i think, I don't know what happened, because I don't remember much, but something happened and I was beaten for it and yelled at and my mother hated me, and now I am an adult and I try to have sex, and I'm not there mentally, even if my body is participating, I feel like I am in the past again, being beaten and yelled at . I want to keep trying, I want to have fun, to feel safe in someone else's arms, to reach the heights of pleasure, but my mind scares me so much, I haven't been able to eat anything today because I feel so horrified by my body . If I was good I would have been born as a nonsexual being, no parts, no desires, no instincts, a blank slate, too empty to be enjoyed . Do you know what it feels like, to have your mother tell you people want to sexually abuse you when you are a child, and then to be made fun of by your peers for being so ugly, to have your middle school and high school classmates joke about how much they don't want to have sex with you ? I am illicit and undesirable at the same time, I am everyone's last option, I am nothing and still too much, rotting deer meat on the side of the road . I wish I had been born as something beautiful and pure, I wish I could start over, that whatever that initial sin was had never been committed .. I want to start over

(new)

Went to a kink event the other night and everyone was so nice … The low lights were fucking with my vision so one of the hosts helped me navigate the place . I ❤️ you random disabled ally with a pup mask on

chemical girl (joy)

(old)

LMAOOOOO im too angry and miserable to be around. i think i just need to give up at this point because theres clearly like. something broken inside me that cant be fixed. that has 2 be it because i try to talk and i just sound cold, i try to make a joke and it comes out overly edgy and unfunny, i try to be like everyone else but its too much. i cant even be a collection of the positive traits i see in others, i try to replicate it and it comes out warped and wrong. im either fucking enraged or in abject misery or way too happy and nobody can keep up with me. the thing is i dont even blame them. i wouldnt want to be around me either. do u know what thats like? being someone you wouldnt want to know? i keep hoping that one day ill wake up and suddenly be normal, the mood swings will be gone and everyone will like me and i wont do stupid shit that pisses them off. but i know that day isnt coming. theres no hope for me and i want to say sorry to everyone who has ever had the misfortune of knowing me but i know it wouldnt do anything. theres nothing i could ever do to make myself right

(new)

i need to convince my gf to take me to Round One again soon

refraction girl (nataana)

(old)

i don't want to do this anymore. i'm going somewhere better

(new)

talked with my psych and i’ll be starting TMS soon, it’s some thing where they put magnets to ur brain and it’s supposed to treat depression.. trying to temper my expectations bc i’ve tried so many treatments that just do nothing for me, but i’d be lying if i said my hopes weren’t riding on this. i want to confidently say i’m glad to be alive. i feel like i’m getting closer to that

nurse parallel/machine girl (xiomara)

(old)

I am so excited... Tomorrow my experimental outpatient treatment plan begins!!! I'm beyond delighted. I have complicated feelings about my DID being in remission, but it's nice to feel stable enough to be in charge of something this big, and to not have terrible gaps in my memory anymore. I still don't remember everything that happened to me, but maybe I don't need to. At this stage of my life, I feel content. I can confidently say everything was worth it. I want to help others feel that way, too. I think I can.

(new)

I’m meeting up with a new friend tomorrow… I feel nervous, but it’s a good nervousness, I think!

[peppermintquartz]

Hondo calls Deacon after dinner. "Hey. Kinda need to talk with you?"

"If it's about what you were asking me in HQ earlier this week, I'm not talking about it with you, Hondo."

"I saw you with Rocker today."

Hondo can't believe what he is saying even as the words spill out. The image of Deacon kissing Rocker's hand is seared in his mind and he still feels thrown by it. The sheer concept of Deacon divorcing Annie is already so far beyond what Hondo thinks is possible, and he's currently awash in disbelief that Deacon is actually cheating on his wife. He won't be able to work with Deacon until they have a proper conversation.

Deacon inhales sharply. Then he says, "Text me a location, I'll see you there."

---

Deacon arrives ten minutes late.

"You and Rocker?" Hondo says as an opener.

"Yes," Deacon says.

Hondo rubs a hand over the top of his head. "Hell... Deac, why? How and why?"

Deacon tilts his head and studies Hondo coolly. Then he says, "I'm gonna need a drink to get through this." Standing, he goes to the bar and grabs a beer, bringing one along for Hondo as well.

When he sits down again, he doesn't look at Hondo for a long moment. It's uncomfortable. Hondo can't recall the last time he was uncomfortable in Deacon's company. Finally, Deacon exhales, low and resigned.

"Listen, Hondo. Me and Donovan... It's not something either of us expected, but it is how it is. If you're gonna tell me to break it off, that it'll hurt our careers - his more than mine, let's be honest - and all of that... We've already gone over it."

"Donovan," Hondo echoes flatly.

"Yes, Donovan." Deacon's gaze is as steadfast as it has always been.

"Wow." The beer is cold in his hand and he sets it on the table, cocking his head to look at the beads of condensation roll down the side of the bottle.

Deacon takes a long swig of his beer. Then he leans forward on his elbows. "Hondo. How long have you known me? Hmm? Do you think I would do anything this serious without having considered alternatives? That I haven't tried any other avenue?"

"That's not what I am trying to say, man. I'm just... I'm just shocked. You and Annie have been together ages, and-and I always thought of you two as, I don't know, the ideal."

For the first time since Hondo confronted him almost a week ago, Deacon looks tired. "i thought so too. It happened so suddenly and I wasn't prepared for... for this storm. I've prayed, fasted, gone to confession. Therapy. Hell, Donovan kept telling me to go back to Annie, and every damned time, when I was hurting or scared or upset or just... pissed off, I think of him. I think of him. And I feel better."

That's not something Hondo expected to hear. "But you love Annie," he says, hoping that means something. "Don't you?"

"I do," Deacon says. Resignation colors his expression and his tone. "I will always love her. She's the mother of my kids, and she has been my staunchest supporter and I have been happy to support her in her career too. And honestly? I would've forced myself to remain in the marriage, for the kids if nothing else, but it's come to the point I dread going home. I dread it."

"So you hooked up with Rocker? Deac, it's a crisis in the marriage, that's not worth cheating on Annie."

A strange expression flits over Deacon's face. He narrows his eyes and asks, "How long do you think I've been with him?"

"Two months? Ten weeks?"

"Over a year and a half."

"Almost two years?" How has he missed the signs? Or did Deacon and Rocker really manage to pull the wool over everyone's eyes? It has to be the latter because there was no way, no way, that gossip of the two of them in an affair wouldn't set HQ on fire. "Since when?"

"Since Sydney. You know, the one Hicks said you weren't allowed to attend after all that drama in Thailand?" Deacon leans back in his seat and he traces patterns in the condensation on the table.

"Did he seduce you? Did he, uh, I don't know. Did he get you drunk, or-or something?"

Deacon chuckles. "Wow. You're really trying to paint him as the bad guy, huh." He sighs. "Sorry, but, uh, I was the one who jumped him. The only thing he did wrong was not to punch me in the mouth after I kissed him." Deacon blows out a breath and laughs quietly again. Then his expression grows pensive as he regards Hondo. "He's not the one to blame. Every time he pulled away, I went after him. Hell, at some point he could've torpedoed my career by arresting me as a stalker. I chased after him. Couldn't stop thinking about him and couldn't cut ties with him. I don't know how to explain it."

There's a lot Deacon isn't saying. Hondo drinks his beer in silence for a while, trying to digest the information. "You said he pulled away."

"Yes, several times." With a small shrug, Deacon adds, "He went out of his way to schedule opposite shifts from 20-Squad. We fought about it. At one point I wanted to quit SWAT because I couldn't bear it. He talked sense into me, and then he made me promise to go our separate ways, told me to really work on my marriage."

Hondo raises his eyebrows. His eyes fall on the empty space on Deacon's ring finger.

"I tried. But every time I held Annie or kissed her or, heck, even just holding her hand... It didn't feel right, not anymore. Sleeping next to her while thinking of another was a special kind of torture." Deacon takes a long gulp of his beer and shuts his eyes. "I feel like such a failure admitting that out loud."

What can Hondo say to that? He doesn't have the right words for this. Nichelle would know how to approach the matter with more tact.

"I tried to focus on giving Annie what she needed, what she wanted. Focused on the kids. But I soon realized it was too late for that. The the affair was over for more than three months - a hundred and eleven days - when I finally decided that I was done lying to myself. I can't live a lie for the rest of my life... so I decided on divorce."

Hondo shakes his head in disbelief. "Really? You'd give up on your marriage and your family for him?"

"Hey. What's that tone? 'For him'?"

"Deac. It's Rocker. He's always been, like, mini-Mumford. He's competitive and cocksure and he snipes at us whenever he can."

"And he always shows up for us when we need him. And don't act like we don't like poking him in his sore spots either, okay? We're no angels." Deacon scratches the tip of his nose. "You only see him at work, Hondo. I'm not gonna go into details, but he's a completely different guy out of the uniform."

"I'm taking your word for it," says Hondo, slightly chastened, and then adds with a little smirk, "And I am not interested in hearing about him out of his uniform."

"Shut - You know I didn't mean it that way." Deacon's laughing now, shaking his head. Then he shrugs and rolls his eyes. "Okay, I did mean it that way. A little bit."

"Ah, no, I don't need to hear any of that."

That weak joke cracks the ice that was growing between them, and somehow Hondo breathes a little easier.

"But... is divorce really what you want?"

"It wasn't an easy decision to make. When I decided I had to tell Annie, I sat in my car and cried. I was a wreck. All I wanted was to go home to Donovan and I couldn't. So I cleaned myself up, got back to my house, kissed my kids as they slept, thinking that maybe, maybe looking at them, I could change my mind. And then I saw Annie in our bedroom and I knew I'd passed that point. You've no idea..." Deacon's stoic mask slips a little and the heartbreak is evident. "I love her. I do. But I can no longer bear to be with her. So I told her I wanted a divorce."

Hondo can't wrap his head around it. He loves Nichelle and he means to keep loving her as his wife for as long as he can. He can't picture walking away from Vivienne either.

Deacon clears his throat. "And the next day, she asked me again, if I meant it. And I still did. I still do. I wish... I wish it had never come to this." His lips twitch. "I fled the house and I went straight to Donovan's and for the first time in months, I felt like I could breathe." He scoffs and shakes his head. "All those times when I judged people for not upholding their marriage vows, for infidelity... And now I'm an adulterer, about to live in sin with my boyfriend."

Hondo hissed in a breath. "Divorce is one thing, but... Deacon, your faith means so much to you. The church - annulment of marriage is a really difficult thing for Catholics, right? And the kids. They're gonna be so confused," he says. "My father walked out on my mom and us for someone else, and we hated him for decades. I don't want that for you."

"I don't want them watching me grow increasingly resentful of their mother and of my marriage, Hondo." Deacon sighs. "As for the church, well. There are ways. I'll try to find the best way to give Annie the best chance at love in the future, with someone who'll love her the way she deserves, the way the kids deserve. As for my faith? Well, God will decide. If He says that I'm to be damned for my sins of loving Donovan, then let it be so."

From anyone else, it may sound melodramatic. But Hondo knows that Deacon genuinely means it. His friend has devoted himself to his faith for decades, and his roots in his belief are strong; for him to make this decision must have been harrowing.

"Custody?"

"I'll let Annie decide if she wants full or partial custody. I don't plan to fight her on anything, as long as I still have visitation rights at the very least." Deacon smiles bitterly. "It's a relief, being able to talk openly about all this." He clinks the neck of his beer bottle against Hondo's. "Thanks for, I don't know. This."

Hondo chews on the inside of his cheek. "So today, at the cafe with Rocker... You plan on coming out with him."

"We're talking about it. And he's..." A smile that's light and tender spreads over Deacon's face. "He tried to talk me out of the divorce, like you. But he's also happy about me choosing him. He's not exactly sure how to feel." He sighs. "I've put him in a tough spot for almost two years. I hate that so much. He's not meant to hide in the shadows and I selfishly forced him there."

"Does Annie know it's Rocker?"

"Not yet. She knows it's a man I'm involved with. But she will, soon, once Donovan and I decide how to proceed from here." Deacon looks at Hondo. "Or do you plan to tell her?"

For a moment, Hondo deliberated the choice. Eventually, he shakes his head. "I think that's something you need to tell her in person."

"Yeah. Yes I do." Deacon sighs. "I know I'm destroying something I've built for over ten years. I know Annie and the kids are gonna hate me and Donovan for a long, long time, if they ever forgive me." His mouth twists.

"So why do it?"

"Because I know that it's not a mistake. Nothing inside me - my mind, my heart, my conscience - says it's a mistake to see it through." The older man sighs. "I'm not trying to convince you. I'm not trying to convince anyone. I just know this is what I'm supposed to do. What I do regret is putting them through all of this. I feel guilty that I am choosing my own happiness over theirs, and ashamed I waited until I could no longer bear it to force this upon them."

Hondo finishes his beer. "I don't know if I can support you through this, Deac. I really don't."

"You don't have to." Deacon pauses and considers his words. "Support Annie and the kids. Especially the kids. I don't know if Annie will let me talk to them once I start the paperwork, but I need them to understand that I will love them with every fiber of my being till the end of my days." He reaches across the table and wraps his hands around Hondo's wrist. "Please."

"I can do that. Nichelle and I can both do that."

Deacon tightens his grip and smiles. "Thank you."

[honeygrahambitch]

"He is...he is..." Will said as he looked at the pictures taken at the crime scene. "Frustrated. He is not trying hard to impress with his murder spree, he is angry and he wants to draw our attention, it's not his design that matters, it's... something else." Will added as he paced back and forth in Hannibal's dining room, trying to put together everything he knew. "He is feeling...fuck if I know."

Hannibal sighed softly and started arranging the pictures into a pile.

"I am not done, let me pull myself together." He said as he rubbed his eyes with his palms.

"It's more than enough for tonight." Hannibal replied and as soon as ge gathered the pictures he headed towards Will and placed a hand on his forehead.

Will did not try to escape his touch.

"You're burning."

"One of my dogs got lost last night and I went to look for him. It was cold."

"Why didn't you stay home today? You could have come here, I would have cooked for you and made sure you are actually taken care of." Hannibal said and realized he might have overstepped.

"I can take care of myself."

Hannibal arched an eyebrow in a loving way. He sighed relived when Will laughed.

"As self-reliant as I am, when I was driving to work this morning I considered just coming straight to you. And I know you would have hidden me from Jack Crawford."

Hannibal's heart skipped a beat. Will had wanted to seek shelter in his home.

"I would definitely have. Why didn't you?"

"I can't just run away from work whenever I feel like it." Will said as he tapped the edge of the table with his fingers. He was fidgeting. "Besides, you can't plan your life around my problems."

What if he would just inform him that all his problems paled when it came to him? He would indeed abandon everything if Will needed something from him.

"I can certainly try. I made pancakes this morning." Hannibal said, earning another smile from Will. "Just know that I could never mind your unplanned visits."

"Thank you. If you did, you would be the worst husband in the world, anyway."

"I already feel like the worst husband in the world since we are living in two different states, darling. The least I can do is to make sure you don't ignore your fever."

"I believe the most beautiful aspect of our relationship is that we get to keep it just for us. I don't want them to know." he said, referring to Jack, Alana, Chilton, Freddie Lounds even. "They don't deserve to know."

The last sentence melted Hannibal. Even though he would have preferred to tell everyone about the fact that he has the most wonderful husband in the world, he agreed to Will's perspective. Those people really did not deserve to know. Not only because of the judgmental glances, neither of them cared about that. It was the fact that they wouldn't understand.

"Did you find your dog?"

"Yes. So stupid. Found him with a frozen squirrel. He was quite disappointed that I wasn't impressed."

"I get just as excited about my prey."

"You do." Will agreed. "I hate to say this but would it make you happier if I spent the night here?"

Hannibal thought he hadn't heard it well. He grabbed Will's hand and held it to his chest, as if he was trying to check if he had been indeed genuine.

"So you get to take care of me. And I don't feel like the worst husband in the world. And you too."

"Then neither of us is the worst in the world. Yes, that would make me very happy." Hannibal left a kiss on Will's hand.

One day I might stop driving back to my place, Will thought as for a second, the simple thought of making this man happy felt enough.

[shamelessexplosions]

I'm about 8 years late with this but one thing in the Civil War dispute I have never seen anyone from either side point out (and I could just be completely wrong on this):

There is no indication Steve actually knew Bucky killed Tony's Parents

Steve knew it was Hydra because, and as far as I am aware ONLY because of Zola's little exposition scene in Winter Soldier where he shows a bunch of newspapers clippings of things Hydra is responsible for, including Howard and Maria Stark's death.

I repeat: things HYDRA is responsible for. So, yes, Cap knew Hydra killed the Starks, and knew Bucky was working for Hydra. That does not mean, because of that little exposition scene, Cap decided, 'oh yes, in the last 70 years Hydra has only had one man doing all their assassinations, so that must mean Bucky killed Howard and Maria.'

The thought it might have been him could have occurred to Steve, but either way, that would be a theory, and not something Steve has any reason to tell Tony.

For further proof, this exchange from Civil War straight after Tony & Steve watched the security footage:

Tony: "Did you know?"

Steve: "I didn't know it was him."

Tony: "Don't give me that shit, Rogers. Did you know?"

Steve: "...Yes."

To me at least, that 'yes' means Steve knew Hydra, as an organisation, killed Stark's parents, and he elected not to tell Tony, which he is shown to have found out in Winter Soldier so we know that. But his initial statement, "I didn't know it was him", we have no evidence wasn't entirely truthful.

(Whether Tony hears that 'yes' as 'yes I knew Bucky killed your parents' or 'yes I knew your parents death wasn't an accident/orchestrated by Hydra' is ...debatable, but either way I can't see any reason to believe Steve meant the latter, especially since he has already said he knew it wasn't Bucky specifically.)

Why didn't Steve tell Tony Hydra killed his parents?

I can think of a few reasons, whatever side of the Civil War divide you are you can probably come up with more:

1. Steve knew Zola was trying to distract Steve and Nat when he showed those newspapers, so was just trying to keep them engaged, and hinting there might be more to the death of an old friend and get Steve emotional would be a great way to do that. Steve might have suspected it was true, but with no actual evidence he didn't want to open Tony's old wounds.

2. The avengers were going after Hydra post-Winter Soldier, and Steve was worried about what Tony might do/how reckless he might be/didn't trust him enough to risk telling him the people they were targeting killed his parents.

3. It was more than 30 years in the past. If Steve didn't know it was Bucky, it would be likely the person who did it (or at least authorised it) was long dead or unfindable (again, 30 years cold case, no evidence except in a bunker in nowhere siberia that Zemo spent a year searching for when he knew exactly what he was trying to find), so there would be no justice to get, so it would be only hurting Tony for no reason.

But the point is there are a lot of reasons Steve wouldn't tell Tony (admittedly a lot aren't very good or wishful thinking, and Steve probably should have said something, but it is a common theme across the MCU that Steve doesn't always have as much faith in Tony as he should (and then sometimes Tony builds Ultron because he got scared and you can understand why Steve might not trust him when emotional), I'm not here to idolise either of them or say either were completely right in this movie, just point out one thing I see a lot of people complain about). A lot of those reasons don't hold if Steve knew that it was Bucky, and we will never know if Steve might have told him if he did, but you can't blame Steve for not telling Tony something he didn't know himself.

[dollishmehrayan]

# GINGERBREAD HOUSES AND KISSES GALORE ── .✦ ( a drabble of building a gingerbread house with dick because why not )

a/n: can’t believe it’s already like 20th December and I haven’t wrote a actual fic && I’ve hadn’t done anything Christmas cheer either, tags: (dick grayson x fem!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

The kitchen was filled with the warm, inviting aroma of ginger and cinnamon, a testament to the holiday season. A soft glow illuminated the room as twinkling fairy lights draped across the windows. You stood at the countertop, a wide grin on your face as you opened the giant box of gingerbread house components. This was your annual tradition with Dick Grayson, and you were determined to make this year the best yet. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got!” you exclaimed, pulling out the pre-baked gingerbread panels, icing tubes, and an assortment of colorful candies. “I hope you brought your A-game, Grayson. Last year’s house was… well, let’s just say it resembled a sad little shack.”, “Hey, that was an artistic interpretation! This year, I promise you a mansion!” He rolled up his sleeves with exaggerated flair, the playful smile never leaving his face. You both got to work, establishing your mini gingerbread empire on the countertop. Dick was in charge of the assembly, carefully applying icing like a glue that held everything together. You, on the other hand, were the creative mastermind, directing the candy placement like a conductor leading an orchestra. “Let’s put the gummy bears in the front yard!” you suggested, shoving a handful of them toward him. “I thought we were going for a classy look? Gummy bears don’t exactly scream sophistication,” he teased, winking at you. You feigned offense, placing a hand dramatically on your heart. “What’s wrong with gummy bears? They add character! Besides, they can be the cheerful neighbors.” With a laugh, Dick complied, placing the gummy bears and popping one in his mouth, then placing around the doorstep of your half-finished gingerbread house. The two of you continued your banter, throwing ideas back and forth, with Dick keeping the house standing while you sprinkled candy canes and m&m’s like they were confetti. “Okay, but hear me out,” he said, looking serious for a moment. “What if we made the roof a little more… eclectic?” He held up a handful of marshmallows, a smirk playing on his lips. “Eclectic? You mean lopsided? Remember my last attempt at the roof? It looked like it had been through a windstorm!” “Exactly! Let’s give it some character!” He threw a marshmallow at you, and you ducked just in time, laughing as it ricocheted off the wall and landed on the floor for haley to eat. Through giggles and playful jabs, the gingerbread house began to take shape, each candy placement a step towards completion. You found your heartwarming joy in the simplicity of the moment just you and dick, surrounded by sweet chaos and laughter. Once the house was finally assembled, you both took a step back to admire your masterpiece. It was a bit crooked in places, and the roof did have a slight lean, but it was the most beautiful gingerbread house you had ever seen. It was yours, and it was perfect. “Okay,let’s take a picture!” you declared, grabbing your phone. Dick wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as you both posed with the house. “Say ‘gingerbread!’” he called, “No wait-“ and as the camera clicked the photo came out blurry but you both burst into laughter, your cheeks flushed with happiness. The rest of the night was spent sipping hot chocolate, munching on leftover candy, and reminiscing about past holidays. As the warmth of the room enveloped you, you felt content, knowing that these moments with Dick would always be your favorite memories. “Next year,” you said, leaning against him, “we’ll go for a full gingerbread village.” dick chuckled, his voice soft. “Only if I get to make the lopsided roofs again.” “Deal,” you replied, snuggling closer, the cozy atmosphere wrapping around you like a warm blanket, knowing that as long as you were together, every moment would be sweet. ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

[iheartsteve0704]

The Family Stone - Agathario AU

Rating: Teen & Up

Summary: Wanda brings her girlfriend Rio home for Christmas. The only problem is that she's not really Wanda's girlfriend and Rio is helplessly in love with Wanda's older sister, Agatha (who she can't even look in the eye).

Note: This is loosely based on the movie The Family Stone (2005)!! This is also not beta read, I'm sorry haha but I will probably go back and fix things!

“This is stupid, Wanda! Just tell them the truth!” Rio said as she jogged circles around Wanda who was struggling up the large hill. It was an unbearably hot day in California but somehow Rio still convinced her going for a run was a good idea. 

“I can’t! My mom thinks- and my sisters they- ugh please, Rio! Just this one last time. Please!!” Wanda had to stop, panting as she put her hands on her needs to catch her breath. She looked up at Rio and gave her an exaggerated pout. 

“No! Wanda, would they truly give a fuck if they knew you were single??” 

“I don’t know! I think my mom would be a little disappointed yeah but the point is that I told them like 2 months ago that you’d be coming with me so I cannot go back now! They’ll just bombarded me with a bunch of questions and grill me non-stop and it’ll truly be hell for that entire week.”

“DID YOU SAY 2 MONTHS AGO???” Rio’s jaw dropped, eyes almost building out of her head. She looked at the girl who has become her best friend in this shitty town and found that she couldn’t say no. They met years ago in a shitty bar and both got wasted and shared their deepest darkest secrets and they never spent a day without each other. They were like sisters at this point. That’s why fake dating her felt so weird. “Fine. Fine! But you fucking owe me.” 

“Yay!! I love you!” Wanda jumped up and kissed Rio on the cheek, who quickly wiped it off with the back of her hand. 

“And I’m out after this, I swear! This is the last time!!” Rio warned and Wanda just nodded her head as she tried to bite back her triumphant smile. 

----------------------------------------

“I can’t believe Wanda is really bringing her!” Agatha scoffs as she picks away at her salad. “She’s so… eccentric.”

She watches as her mom, Lilia, shuffles around the kitchen and tosses ingredients into a bowl. Agatha sees the slight up and down movement of her mom’s shoulders and knows she got a good chuckle out of that one. 

Wanda was the baby of the family and she is also the most MIA. She lives a luxurious life abroad doing business of some sorts when she’s not living it up in California. She rarely visits home and rarely answers her phone. The Harkness girls only found out Wanda had a girlfriend because one of the red head’s friends had tagged her in a questionable Facebook photo with a mystery brunette hanging off her arm. They kept grilling Wanda over the phone until she just admitted it. 

The youngest Harkness was similar to the eldest, hard to please and hard to tie down. So when Lilia caught word of her youngest’s new found love life, she was over the moon. Practically already imagining their wedding in her mind. 

Agatha found Wanda’s girlfriend, Rio, strange to say the least. No one has met her other than Agatha, for a brief moment in New York when Wanda was in for work and Rio had tagged along. Rio seemed antsy, almost nervous but Agatha was nothing but kind to her. The entire night was odd, Rio barely holding conversation with her or coding she existed. While it was only one night, it had been a long one and Agatha had told the rest of her family of the cautionary tale countless times, which they had all gotten a kick out of. 

Lilia doesn’t even bother wiping away her smirk when she turns around to grab the flour and address her eldest daughter. 

“Agatha, your sister is welcome to invite anyone she wants. Plus she’s pretty from the photos you’ve shown us.”

“She’s pretty? That’s enough for you? We don’t know anything about her! What if she’s like a serial killer???”

“Oh shush. We should just be happy your sister has finally found love!” 

“Love? Jesus, Mom. Do you really think that’s what this is?” 

“Well she’s inviting her home for Christmas. She’s never invited anyone home for the holidays before! And they’ve been together for over a year, right? Maybe she’ll ask for Grandma’s ring…”

“Grandma Evanora? She was a cunt. You were the one who told us that!” 

“She was! But the ring is to die for and Jen didn't want to give it to Alice! Someone has to take it or else I'll bring it to a pawn shop soon and move to Costa Rica!" They laugh together. 

“I don’t know about marriage. Rio is just so weird! And it felt like they had nothing in common! I mean come on Mom, you weren’t the one who had to endure that painful dinner with them. She kept doing this weird mouth thing where she’d poke the side of her cheek. And I swear to god that girl was staring into my soul! She wouldn’t even talk to me! She was so quiet, I felt like she was silently planning my demise.” 

“Oh be nice, Aggie. But… perhaps she was. You should probably sleep with one eye open, just to be safe.” Lilia tries to bite back a smile but they both end up laughing when the front door swings open. 

“Mom? Agatha? We’re here!!!” Jen says as walks through the door first with her wife, Alice, following behind with their adopted teen son, Billy. 

When they reach the kitchen it is a jumble of hugs and welcomes and then Jen is going up to Agatha and punching her hard in the arm before bringing her into a tight hug. 

“Hey loser, missed you kind of sort of.” Jen said as she hugged her sister and Agatha melted into her arms.

“Ew getting soft on me, Jenny? Grow up.” Agatha jokes and tickles her sister's sides before Jen playfully shoves her away. 

“And how’s my favorite nephew!” Agatha looks Billy up and down, taking in his new appearance. 

“I’m your only nephew Aunt Agatha.” Billy beams at her. 

“I see we’ve gone… goth!” She notices upclose that he is clearly wearing eyeliner and one singular hoop earring. 

Jen shoots her a warning look. 

“I um love it!” Agatha tries her best to be supportive and Billy must buy it because he just smiles widely and starts talking about his different rings and what eyeliner he likes using. 

“So is it true Aunt Wanda is bringing her weird girlfriend?” After talking Agatha’s ear off, Billy steals a bite of her salad and addresses the rest of the room. 

“Billy.” Alice turns and gives him a warning look. 

“What! It’s what Aunt Agatha keeps telling us! She’s weird!” Billy argues and then Alice turns to Jen for help but the woman tries and fails to hold in her laughter. 

“Yes she’s coming. Unfortunately” Jen chuckles and earns a smack painful smack on her bicep. Agatha and Billy laugh at Jen’s comment. 

“You two behave.” Lilia warns but there’s no bite to her voice. 

“We need to be open minded guys! It’s not easy being an outsider.” Alice adds.

“You’re one to talk! Mom welcomed you into this family the first week you guys started dating. Literally gave you the blessing to marry Jen the first time you came over for family dinner. ” Agatha says, stealing back her salad from Billy. 

“Okay! Whatever! I just mean let’s give her a chance!” Alice rolls her eyes. 

“Sure.” “Okay.” The two Harkness sisters say at the same time and Lilia gives them a warning look. 

“We’ll behave! Geez!” Jen puts her hands up in defense. 

“We’ll be perfect angels, mother.” Agatha’s voice is laced with sarcasm which earns her a whipped towel to the arm.

A car door slams. 

“Ooo! That must be them!!” Billy gets up from his seat next to Agatha at the kitchen island and moves towards the living room to peek through the curtains of the window. The women all follow behind him and do a poor job at pending not to catch a glimpse of the couple. 

They watch as Wanda steps out of her expensive car wearing a pressed suit, heels, and gucci sunglasses and then there is Rio. Rio who is wearing a chunky knit sweater that has probably seen better days, a pair of well worn jeans, and combat boots. They couldn’t have looked more dissimilar. 

Agatha had to check herself because she found herself lingering in Rio. The way her dark hair kept falling into her face. The last time she had seen her, her hair was bob length and now it was well past that and really suited her. Then her big brown eyes that she remembers so well that rarely met hers but she’s seen in photos. And then the way she looked so cozy in her outfit. Agatha convinced herself she was just noticing things about the girl. That was all. 

Wanda is directing Rio to pull their bags from the trunk and doesn’t even bother to help her as she starts making her way to the front door. The women, and Billy, panic and move around to all sit somewhere around the living to make it seem like they weren’t just watching them. 

“Family! Your favorite child is finally here!” Wanda says playfully and bounds through the door. They all go to hug her, Lilia holding onto her baby a little longer than the rest.

They all turn their heads when they hear the loud bang of suitcases hitting the floor. An awkward Rio stands in the doorway, expression unreadable. 

“Guys, this is Rio. My… girlfriend!” Wanda smiles over at the brunette. 

They all introduce themselves and Rio acknowledges them with a polite nod and smile, very limited words. Billy looks over at Agatha and they share a look, biting back laughter. Then Lilia tries to go in for the hug and before Rio could reject, she’s being crushed into a tight embrace. 

When it’s Agatha’s turn, the younger woman freezes and she can feel her cheeks start to turn pink. She stares at Agatha momentarily with a gaped, surprised expression and wide eyes before her gaze casts down to the floor.

Agatha watches this happen but assumes it's her nerves, Agatha was a very intimidating presence that she’s been told about time and time again. Lilia gives a pointed look to her eldest daughter who sighs dramatically and takes a step closer to address Rio. 

“We’ve met once before but you probably forgot since it was so long ago. I’m Agatha.” She tries but the younger girl just glances down at her feet and says nothing. Agatha cocks her eyebrow up at this. Everyone stands there uncomfortably. 

“Okay then!!! Everyone is here and must be starving! Go ahead and pick your rooms and freshen up, I’ve left fresh linens on the bed but let me know if you need anything else. I’ll have dinner ready in half an hour.” Lilia claps her hands together and it gets everyone moving throughout the house. 

Everyone has dispersed but Agatha and Rio. Agatha, being the first to arrive, was already settled in and decided on reading her new book. 

Agatha can feel a pair of eyes on her and she knows they belong to the younger girl. After a moment, out of the corner of her eye, she couldn’t help but watch Rio struggle to gather Wanda’s luggage. She looks away when she hears the faint footsteps of Rio going up the stairs. 

----------------------------------------

Later at dinner, the Harkness girls are all catching up and having a ball while doing so. Telling stories about their separate lives and then laughing until their stomachs ache over reliving old ones. 

When the conversation dies down, Lilia takes it upon herself to lead the next conversation. 

“So Rio, tell us about yourself! What do you do for work?” Lilia looks over at the brunette who was slouched in her chair and extremely quiet this whole time. 

Rio looks up and she looks almost startled to be called on. She tries to paint on a smile and looks around the table until she realizes Agatha is staring right at her and brown eyes looks down at her plate as she pushes around the food nervously before speaking. 

“I’m a botanist.”  Rio’s voice is small but sure and all the women around the table hum and nod their head at her answer. 

“What? Like you work at Home Depot or something?” Billy asks but both his mom’s end up smacking him on the back of the head. 

Agatha snickers at the comment but Lilia kicks her under the table. 

“Rio actually works for the government! She leads the botany team at the US Forest Service. She’s a big shot, aren’t you honey?

“Well that’s very impressive! What a cool job!” 

Rio smiles at Lilia but doesn’t elaborate, choosing to look back down at her plate.  

“Agatha is a teacher!” Jen says and Agatha looks up at her in question. “Agatha, didn’t you tell us you were teaching your kids about trees?” 

Agatha glares daggers at her but Jen just smiles over at Rio. 

“Oh that’s nice. It’s important for kids to learn about nature and how to treat our planet.” Rio addresses Agatha, looking at her briefly before looking away again. Everyone waits for Agatha to say something but it never comes so Jen clears her throat. 

“So Agatha, guess who we saw on the way here?” Jen looks over at their oldest sister, mischief glimmering in her eyes. 

“Oh god, who?” Agatha rolls her eyes in response, knowing she’ll hate whatever is to come. 

“Dottie! And she looks great and I heard she’s single again.” 

“Oh I loved Dottie! She always let me check out as many books as I wanted at the library. She actually still does! I think she’s holding out for you, Aggie.” Lilia smiles at her daughter who rolls her eyes again in disgust. 

Wanda laughs and glaces at Rio beside her  and sees the brunette white knuckling the fork in her hand. She raises her eyebrow at the action and gives Rio’s shoulder a little shove, which seems to knock her out of her thoughts. Rio gives her best friend, and fake girlfriend, an unconvincing smile. 

“Well she can keep holding out because that’s never going to happen again.” Agatha says as her mom and sisters groan. 

“You’re not getting any younger, sweetheart.” Lilila says from the goodness of her heart but still it pisses Agatha off. 

“Well thanks mom!” 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it! I just mean you deserve a nice woman in your life to make you happy! Or man! If that’s of interest to you!”

“Oh fuck no! No men. No thank you. No offense, Billy.” 

“None taken. I get it. Straight men are a nightmare.” He says and everyone erupts into laughter. 

Agatha looks over at Rio and assumes she’s staring at her again but instead she’s laughing at something Wanda whispers into her ear. Agatha pushes down the disappointment she feels inside because it’s stupid, why should she feel that way.

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Rio offers to do the dishes after dinner and Billy volunteers to dry. The rest of the Harkness ladies are cooped up in the living room, laughing loudly at a stupid story they tell every time they’re together but never gets old. 

“Hey. It’s nice having you here.” Billy says sweetly and it genuinely makes Rio smile. 

“Thanks. It’s nice being here. Your family is so great.” 

“They are.What’s your family like? Are they upset you aren’t spending the holidays with them?” 

“I don’t- um. My family, they passed when I was super young. I grew up in the foster system and then aged out and that was pretty much it. No other family other than… Wanda.” Rio says and she means it. Wanda was her best friend, her family.

“Oh I’m sorry.” Billy feels flustered but Rio offers him a smile to know it’s okay. “I was in foster care too. For a long time actually. My parents died in a car crash and I didn’t have any other family. I thought I was just going to age out, like you, but on my 10th birthday the agency told me two lesbians wanted to adopt me and I met them and couldn’t say no. Alice and Jen, they’re just the best.” He smiles to himself, recalling back to that special day. 

“That’s sweet. I’m happy for you. They seem like really great mothers.” 

“They really are.” Billy kept the wide smile on his face when he looked over to the living room where his moms are cuddled together on the couch.

“You’re nice to talk too. It just feels easy. You remind me so much of my Aunt Agatha.” 

“Oh? How come?” Rio keeps her voice neutral, busying herself by washing off a plate that was already clean. 

“I don’t know. Something about your energies are similar. I think you’d get along with her if you gave her a chance. She’s not as scary as she pretends to be. She’s a big softie. Promise.” Billy says and Rio just nods her head. 

Rio chances a glance into the living room and catches Agatha throwing her head back in laughter. She looked so beautiful it made Rio’s chest contract in her chest. She then saw movement to Agatha’s left and caught Wanda watching her with a curious look. Rio quickly looked away and went back to washing the dishes.

—————————————————

When everyone is turning in for the night, Rio walks into the bedroom she’s being forced to share with Wanda (since they are a ‘couple’) to find Wanda sitting on the bed with her arms crossed and a knowing smirk on her face. 

“You’re into her! Aren’t you!!” Wanda whispers but still gets shushed by Rio.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” Rio covers her hand over her mouth, tackling her onto the bed. She releases her hand when Wanda tries to bit it and they end up sitting next to each other. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Surreeeeeeeeeee.” Wanda raises her eyebrows. “How did I not know this! How long?! Oh my gosh you need to tell her!”

“Are you insane?! I’m here as YOU’RE fake girlfriend! Remember?!” Rio reminds her and it seems to bring Wanda back to reality who makes an ‘O’ shape with her mouth in realization. 

“Fuck, yeah. You’re right.” Wanda taps her chin before looking back at her with a wide smile. “BUT YOU DO LIKE HER! YOU DIDN’T DENY IT! Oh my god. If you guys get married then you’re forced to be in my life forever!! OH MY GOD WE WOULD ACTUALLY BE SISTERS!!! AND THEN WE COULD-” Wanda’s voice is getting louder and louder in excitement until Rio grabs one of the pillows and shoves it over Wanda’s face, effectively silencing her. For only a minute before she resurfaces. 

“So when??” Wanda smiles and Rio just groans and leans back onto the bed and covers her face with her hands. “WHEN DID YOU START LIKING HER!!!???” 

“If I answer you will you finally shut up?!” Rio glares at her but Wanda’s smile persists, nodding her head. “When we met her for dinner like a year ago.” 

“THAT LONG AGO?!??! OH MY-” Wanda can’t finish her sentence because a fluffy pillow meets her face again. 

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Late at night, Agatha is scrolling aimlessly on her phone when her door cracks open. She’s about to reach for the baseball bat behind the dresser when Wanda and Jen all sneak into Agatha's room. They squeal as they snuggle under the covers and into their older sister. Agatha complains about their cold feet and hands but secretly loves it. They lay in silence for a couple of minutes just enjoying each other's company as they stare blankly at the ceiling. 

“Can I ask you something?” Agatha asks, turning her head towards Wanda, who nods her head. 

“What’s Rio’s deal?” Agatha starts and the mention of the girl makes Wanda look over.  “She doesn't acknowledge my existence. Does she just hate me so much that she can’t talk to me directly?” 

Agatha looks at her baby sister who worries about her bottom lip between her teeth before looking back up towards the ceiling. 

“She spoke to you a little!” Jen tried but Agatha looks at her “okay yeah it was… weird.” Jen comments and Wanda groans, shoving her face into the pillow below her.

“She just seems pretentious to me. Like she thinks she’s better than us.” Agatha adds.

“Better than you, you mean.” Jen adds and Agatha pinches her side. 

“Yeah whatever. I don’t like that she keeps staring at me and not saying anything. It’s just… unsettling.” 

“She’s nice but it takes a minute for her to warm up to you but she’s a great person. No matter what you guys think about her. Just give her a chance.” Wanda makes it a point to look at Agatha when she says the last part. “She could surprise you.”  

Agatha rolls her eyes before pulling the covers tighter around herself and snuggling closer to her sisters until they all fall asleep. 

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In the early morning, Lilila is walking around the house looking for her girls when she finds them curled up in Agatha’s bed like when they were little. It warms her heart so much and she can’t help but whip her phone out and take a photo. She blames her age for forgetting to turn her sound off. 

The girls stir awake and audibly and dramatically whine when they see their mom smiling in the doorway, phone in hand. 

“MOOMMM!!!!!!” The girls shout and Lilila laughs before taking a few more photos and putting her phone away. 

“Okay! Okay! My goodness! Still my little witches!! I’m going to get breakfast started my loves, it’ll be ready in about an hour. Go back to sleep.” She smiles, looking over her kids one more time before closing the door and making her way downstairs. 

She turns the corner into the kitchen when she’s startled by Rio sitting at the kitchen island sipping on some coffee. 

“I’m sorry.” Rio says looking quilty and starting to get up from the stool to leave. 

“Hey! No, it’s okay!” Lilia recovers. “Please stay! I was just going to get breakfast started.”

“Would you like some help?”

“Oh that would be so lovely, thank you Rio.” 

They cook together with ease. Rio slowly drops knowledge of her amazing cooking skills that thoroughly impress the mother of 3. Lilia also learns that Rio actually is a lot more talkative than she lets on and that Rio is actually a really nice and funny girl. While all that is true, she doesn't quite understand how Rio fits with Wanda. Lilia can see now more than ever how different they are but she decides to put that on the back burner for now. If anything, Rio seemed more similar to Agatha. They had a similar sense of humor and something about Rio reminded Lilia a lot of her eldest in a way.

“My Jenny and her wife Alice have been together for 8 years now and they have a lovely son, who you met yesterday. And now Wanda has you and all that is left is my Aggie.” Lilia says, smiling over at Rio who was flipping a pancake on the stove top. 

“Has she ever um-” Rio stutters over her words but Lilia gets what she’s asking. 

“Aggie has always been a tough cookie. She’s a hopeless romantic, don’t tell her I said that to you but I think she’s really waiting for that perfect person. You know?”

“And do you think it was that Dottie person you mentioned last night?” Rio asks. 

“Oh no.” Lilia chuckles. “We just like to mess with her. Dottie was Agatha’s first girlfriend and things got super messy when Dottie broke up with Agatha to be with a boy she swore she didn’t like.” 

“That’s messed up.”

“Yeah it was.” Lilia thinks it over. “Since Dottie, she hasn’t brought anyone else home or mentioned someone so we just all assume she isn’t seeing anyone serious at the moment. Unless she’s hiding a secret family inside her tiny apartment in New York.” 

“Are you talking shit about me again, mom?” Agatha yawns when she walks in, stretching her arms above her head and causing her t-shirt to ride up to expose her midriff. Rio’s eyes go to the exposed skin and she swallows a lump in her throat, looking breathless before clearing her throat and looking back towards the stove. Lilia watches this all unfold and raises her eyebrow. 

Jen walks in with her arms draped around Billy and Alice and Wanda follows behind. Wanda awkwardly walks up next to Rio and kisses her on the cheek. 

“So I was thinking of doing something fun tonight.” Jen says as she walks over to the coffee maker and pours her and Alice a cup. 

“Ew.” Billy, Agatha, and Wanda all say in unison. 

“Not that your pervs. I mean go out! I think we should go to Mephisto’s tonight!” 

“That gross hometown bar? We’re bound to see at least 18 people Agatha’s slept with or ghosted.” Wanda says and it earns her a scolding glare from her older sister. 

“Yeah no, I’m not stepping foot in that place. You’re out of your fucking mind, Jenny.” 

----------------------------------------

Mephisto’s was so fucking crowded. Of course it was, it was Christmas so that meant everyone and their mothers would be back home for the holidays looking to escape their families and get wasted. 

“This is hell on Earth. Why are we doing this right now???” Agatha looks around and doesn’t even try to hide the disgust on her face. 

“Oh come on! It’ll be fun!!” Alice hugs Agatha and tries to get her to smile but it doesn’t work. “I’ll get us all a round of shots!” 

“Okay now you're talkin my language, sister.” Agatha finally lets up, smiling as Alice and Jen walk over to the bar. Now it was just Agatha, Wanda, and Rio. 

Wanda was too busy typing away on her phone to acknowledge they were even there and Agatha resumed her mission of figuring out what Rio’s problem was with her. Agatha turned in Rio’s direction and took in her form. She was wearing tight black jeans, those ratty combat boots again, and a tight low cut black long sleeve that (Agatha hated to admit this but she was a woman lover, sue her) did great things for her chest. Rio looked pretty. 

Just when Agatha was going to try to make conversation with the younger girl, a short red head in a tight tank top approached them and all but threw herself onto Wanda. 

“What the- Nat?! Is that you??” Wanda pulled the figure back and smiled widely at the tiny red head in front of her. 

“Long time no see stranger.” Natasha winked at Wanda which caused the taller redhead to laugh nervously, a response both Agatha and Rio both had never seen before. 

Natasha brings Wanda into another hug that lasts a little too long and looks a little too intimate. It’s Agatha who clears her throat and makes the two separate, giving Wanda a murderous look and tilting her head towards Rio. 

“Shit sorry! Nat, this is my um my girlfriend, Rio.” Rio just gives Natasha a tight lipped smile and nods her head. 

“Lucky girl, Rio. Would you mind if I had a little dance with your girl?” Natasha is already pulling Wanda towards the dance floor before Rio could even answer. 

Agatha shakes her head and rolls her eyes before checking on Rio, who doesn't even look bothered at all by what just happened but Agatha still feels the need to say something, anything to break the awkward tension. 

“Hey. You look really nice tonight!” Agatha offers a warm smile but when brown eyes finally meet hers they are unreadable. It makes Agatha’s smile falter and before she can apologize or say anything, Rio is pushing past her and walking towards the exit. 

“What the hell did you just say to her?” Alice and Jen arrive back as soon as she leaves with a tray of shots. 

“Nothing. I don’t even- excuse me.” Agatha is frustrated and finds herself following Rio’s trail. 

When the cold air hits her, she sees Rio leaning against the car they all arrived in smoking. Agatha, filled with anger, approaches her with a scowl on her face. 

“What’s your fucking problem?!” Agatha shouts and it scares Rio, who jolts back against the car and causes her cigarette to fall into the snow below her. “I’ve been trying to be nice to you this whole time but you have some fucking stick up your ass and can’t even look me in the eye because what? You’re so much better than me? It’s below you to even acknowledge my existence???” 

In response, Rio just scoffs looking away and shaking her head. 

“Huh?! What is it then? What’s your fucking problem with me, Rio?!!” 

Rio finally looks over at Agatha and for a minute she swears she sees something flicker in those brown eyes, something she knew she shouldn’t want.

“Nothing, Agatha.” Rio FINALLY speaks to Agatha but it’s not enough. Rio goes to walk past her and back into the bar when Agatha roughly grabs her wrist and pulls her back, making their bodies collide together. Agatha’s breath hitches at the contact and Rio’s eyes gaze down at Agatha’s lips. Agatha reaches up, cupping her face gently with her breath becoming shallow. Then something takes over her when Rio melts into her touch, her face pushing into her hand. Agatha finds the courage to bring her thumb to Rio’s plump lower lip and the way Rio’s eyes bore into her own create a fire within her. It’s Rio who starts to lean in when the loud sound of giggles tumble out of the bar and they force themselves a part. 

Agatha looks over and see’s Wanda and Natasha practically intertwined, leaning against the building and kissing. Agatha makes it a point to pull the car keys out of her pocket and relock the car, making Wanda’s head snap up and knowing she’s been caught red handed. 

Rio pulls Wanda aside. Tells her this is stupid, that Wanda should be able to fuck Natasha without feeling obligated to keep up the fake girlfriend facade and Wanda just agrees, being tired of the act (horny). She lets Rio break up with her that night, loud enough for her sisters to hear. 

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The next morning, Rio is lugging her own suitcases down the stairs and heading towards the front door. 

“Rio, you don’t have to leave! Please stay for Christmas. No one should spend the holidays alone. We can even padlock Wanda into her room if it’ll make you feel more comfortable.” Lilia jokes with a warm smile and it does make Rio chuckle. 

“I love Wanda.” Rio says and she means it. “I always will. No bad blood, I promise. Thank you for welcoming me into your home. It meant so much, thank you again Ms. Harkness.” 

“Please! It’s Lilia! And at least let… ah Agatha! There you are dear. Can you drive Rio to the train station please.” Agatha just came down the stairs, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. When she sees Rio with her suitcases it seems to fully wake her up.

“Yeah. Of course.” Agatha doesn’t even let Rio get a word in before grabbing one of the suitcases and going out to her car. 

The ride is eerily quiet except for the soft tunes of the Christmas radio. They arrive at the station after a few minutes and sit in silence. Rio suddenly goes to pull the door open but Agatha speaks up. 

“I’m sorry about Wanda.” 

“It’s fine.” 

“Is it?”

“Yeah. We weren’t meant to be.” Rio says truthfully, fiddling with her fingers. They fall quiet again when Rio reaches for the door again. 

“Are we going to talk about it?” “Thanks for the ride.”

Rio lets go of the door handle and makes an action to look over at Agatha but instead looks down at the console between them. 

“Agatha.” 

“You almost kissed me last night.” Agatha tries to duck down and look at Rio. “Hey. Can you please look at me.” Agatha slowly reaches out, her pointer finger touching Rio’s chin and tilting her head up until brown eyes meet blue. Agatha can drown in those eyes if Rio would let her. 

“And you almost let me.” Rio’s voice is barely over a whisper.  

Agatha’s eyes soften and her eyes fall to Rio’s lips. Agatha lets out a shaky breath before leaning in. Her breath hitches when Rio cups her face with her right hand. 

“Agatha. I need to tell you something.” Rio starts but a loud knock is heard on the driver’s window. 

They pull apart and Agatha turns a murderous look towards the window and sees Dottie smiling and waving from the other side. Agatha closes her eyes, letting out a sigh, before rolling the window down. 

“Dottie. What do I owe this pleasure?” Agatha says with an annoyed tone that Dottie doesn’t seem to catch on to. 

“I heard you were back in town but I had to see it for myself! How are you? You look really… hot.” Dottie smirks, leaning on the window and purposefully flashing her cleavage towards Agatha who rolls her eyes and leans back in her seat to create space. 

“My train is here.” 

Rio rushes out of the car before Agatha could stop her. 

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When Agatha gets back, everyone is in the living room. Wanda is sitting in the arm chair that had been moved to the center while everyone takes their turns berating her. 

“I knew you were a cunt but this is next level, Wanda!” Jen scolds and Lilia smacks her arm for the bad language. 

“Sweetie, you should’ve just broken up with her instead of cheating! Cheaters are the WORST type of people and I know that isn’t you. Wanda you are better than that!” Lilia says desperately, looking at her daughter with so much disapproval and it makes Wanda sink in her seat. 

“I’m actually disgusted with you. I can’t even look at you!” Jen adds and Wanda puts her head in her hands, staring at the ground. 

Agatha makes her presence known, walking into the living room with caution and they all turn towards her. Wanda sits straighter in her seat when she sees the look on Agatha’s face. 

“She told you. Didn’t she?” Wanda asks and they all look at her in confusion. 

“What are you talking about?” Agatha asks. 

Wanda sighs and comes to terms with her actions, realizing it’s better to confess than be seen as a cheater (which she’d never be). 

“She was never my girlfriend! Okay!” 

“WHAT?!” The Harkness women shout and stare at the youngest. 

“What the hell do you mean by that?!” Agatha gets closer, crossing her hands over her chest. 

“I mean… ugh. Okay. So. We were just pretending to be together to get you guys off my case. We never dated. We never even hooked up. She’s strictly my best friend. That’s it.” Wanda explains and the room falls quiet. Agatha moves to sit on the couch where Alice and Billy resided, cradling her head in her hands and thinking. 

“You didn’t have to do that, my love. We don’t care if you’re seeing someone or not. It doesn’t matter. So long you’re happy.” Lilia softens and smiles at her youngest, who smiles back. 

“I told you, mom. You owe me $30 bucks.” Billy whispers to Alice and Agatha whips her head up to look at her nephew. 

“You knew???” 

“It was kind of obvious. From the lack of PDA to the way Rio would practically drool when you walked into a room. I mean I thought we ALL knew.” Billy says.

“Drool? What are you talking about? Don’t be ridiculous. She’s like 10 years younger than me.” Agatha asks and Billy just stares at her. Agatha looks around the room for help and they are all giving her the same look. 

“I did notice her oolging you too and thought it was odd since at the time I thought she was with Wanda but it makes a lot of sense now.” Lilila agrees, sitting on the arm of the chair Wanda was sitting in. Moving the red hair out of her face and kissing the top of her head. She whispers ‘my baby’ into her temple and the youngest throws her arms around her waist. 

“Agatha.” Wanda speaks up and they look at each other. “She likes you. A lot. That’s her problem with you. The problem is that she’s liked you since we met for dinner all that time ago. The problem is she likes you too much.” 

Agatha’s mouth falls open, a whole new world has just been opened to her and she feels frozen in place. 

Then before she can comprehend what is happening, she is being pulled up from her seat and shoved into the car. They all manage to fit into Jen’s van and they zoom down the street. 

“Where are we going!?!? It’s Christmas morning?!” Agatha asks, still in shock of what was happening. 

“We are getting you the girl!!” Billy smiles as she says so, pointing to the train station once they arrive. 

Agatha’s eyes widen and she shakes her head. 

“No.” Agatha says weakly. 

“What? You don’t like her?” Wanda raises her eyebrow. Agatha doesn’t say anything but looks down at her ratty uggs boots they shoved onto her feet before leaving the house. “Then go get her!” 

“Her train already left. I saw it leave.” Agatha said, feeling her heart break at the memory. Trying to get rid of Dottie but she wasn’t fast enough. 

They fall silent, taking in the moment but then Alice sits up in her seat. 

“Wait. Isn’t that her?” Alice says and they all crowd the left side of the car windows until Agatha pushes her way through to see and it is her. Rio sitting sadly on a bench, kicking her feet and wiping away a tear. 

Agatha is pushing through the bodies and throwing herself out of the car. She rushes the station and all but body slams into Rio and brings her into a tight hug. 

Rio is alarmed at first, scared she was just attacked by a stranger but she notices the hair and the waft of her scent and melts into her arms. They stay there for a moment before Agatha pulls back and cradles her face in her hands. 

“What about Dottie?” Rio’s voice is so small and then Agatha laugh and Rio starts to shrink away.

“There’s nothing there. She’s no one. I promise.” Agatha says, watching the way Rio looked so unsure at first but finds confidence after Agatha’s confession.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Agatha says, voice laced with longing. 

“Well I was fake dating your sister.” Rio says plainly but a small smirk on her face. 

“You’ve really liked me all this time?” Rio just nods her head and Agatha settles with a sweet smile on her face. 

“Sorry if that’s lame.” Rio laughs, looking down at her sneakers but Agatha forces her eyes up. Face serious. 

“It’s not.” Agatha assures her. “It’s romantic.”

“I- You’re so beautiful, Agatha.” Rio says almost breathlessly and Agatha can’t help herself when she crashes her lips together and kisses her deeply and it immediately feels like coming home even though this is their first kiss.

Rio throws her arms around Agatha’s neck and Agatha tilts her head, changing the angle of the kiss and slides her tongue inside. They are making unholy noises in a public space but they don’t care. They only pull a part when they hear the sound of a loud horn and people cheering. They look over and see the Harkness clan hanging out the window and cheering them on. 

----------------------------------------

Two Years Later:

“Class please welcome our guest for today! My special friend, wildness explorer Rio!” Agatha stands at the front of the class, clapping along with her students who all cheer when Rio walks in in a silly outfit Agatha made her wear. She has on tan khakis, a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a red scarf wrapped around her neck. Agatha wanted her to wear a boy scout sash too but Rio drew the line there. 

Rio planned on being bratty about the situation but once she saw the excited faces of Agatha’s first grade class, she couldn’t find it within her anymore. They were all so cute and ecstatic to be learning about nature and it warmed her heart. 

She settled at the front of the class, asking them to join her on the reading carpet, as she read to them a kids book about plants. She was using silly voices for each character and it made all the kids giggle. She glances over at Agatha, who was biting back a wide smile as she watched her with loving and adoring eyes. 

Agatha had on her big glasses, that were now slipping down her nose, and Rio's heart felt like it was bursting through her chest and she hated to admit this (it being inapropriate in this moment) but she was always endlessly turned on when she slide her glasses on her face.

When the last bell rang indicating the end of the school day, the kids didn’t want to part with Rio but Agatha promised she would be back soon. Once all the kids had been picked up or shipped onto a school bus, Agatha started to gather her stuff as Rio collected the things she brought to the classroom. 

“Oh wilderness explorer Rio?” Agatha sing songed and Rio turned, to see the woman all ready to go. Perched on the side of her desk, arms crossed, not even hiding that face that she was checking Rio out. She crooked her finger, asking Rio to come closer. 

Rio smirked, leaving the books on the floor, and slotted herself between Agatha’s legs. Agatha pulled her in closer, roughly by tugging on her neck scarf, and kissed her simply before pulling back a little. Rio tried to go in for another but Agatha put a hand on her chest, stopping her. 

“When we get home, I want you in our bed with this-” Agatha tugs again on the scarf, “on you, nothing else, and I want you to put a baby in me.” 

Agatha bites the bottom of her lip, knowing the darkening look in Rio’s eyes. She yelps when Rio kisses her hungrily and then grabs Agatha’s bag, slinging it over her one shoulder and picking up Agatha and slinging her over the other. Rio’s smacks her as playfully before leaving the comfort of Agatha’s classroom and bringing her home. 

Much, much later when Agatha is happily fucked and staring down at her sleeping girlfriend, she reached over for her phone and pull up her mom's contact.

Agatha: Hey Mom! So about Grandma's ring...

[seitmai]

Wow I just have many thoughts...

All you could do was offer a prayer to the Gods for him.  The next time you saw him, he was no longer a barbarian gladiator hailed from a distant land, but the new – and rightful – Emperor of Rome. His name was not Hanno, but Lucius Verus Aurelius, and he was the son of the recently passed Queen Lucilla, whom Rome still mourned. 

Seems like the prayers worked 🤭

You would have helped him disrobe too, already used to it from your days of serving Geta, but he chose to do so himself. He was not quite used to his every need being attended to, self-sufficiency deeply ingrained in his being. Mostly, he waved away other servants, leaving you instead to care for him personally. 

I feel like he would be overwhelmed with so many people there to help him, so he just keeps the bare minimum or rather the people he really want to have around him

Neither place felt like home, just the past and the present, and perhaps he was viewing things the same way. You could imagine, even understand, the bittersweetness of returning to a place one thought they might never see again. 

They probably share those feelings about home 🥺

He had the barest of smiles on his handsome face, but you could tell it was genuine. You felt one corner of your lips tugging upwards, but you looked away out of propriety. Even if you were in the same room, you were leagues apart, and it would do you no good to try to imagine otherwise.

Ahhh those shared glances 🥰

“Ovid, Sappho, Horace…” You became a little flustered as he raised his eyebrows. “My mother was a bit of a romantic.” “And you?” It was your turn to huff with amusement, looking down at your hands. “I don’t believe I inherited that trait, no.”

Oh he is probably so disappointed by that 🙈

The truth was that in a place such as Rome, love was quite hard to come by. You didn’t actively search for it, its ephemeral nature making you less inclined to, but you were no complete stranger to it. You’d never let it take root, though, for it was not something you could afford to have. 

Everyone deserves love though 🥺🫶🏻

“What about you, Dominus?” “Me?” he said. “I suppose… I’m not entirely sure anymore. I used to be, at one point.”

Let's find it again 😌

Your face heated up at the mere thought of it. “I could never be so bold…” “I insist,” he said, holding up a hand as you began to stammer again. “Perhaps only when it is just the two of us, if you’d prefer.” “I will certainly try my best,” you said with an awkward grin, trying to keep your composure. He chuckled. “Good enough for me.”

I'm just in love with this little conversation 😍

He enjoyed the mellifluous sound of your voice, so at odds with your serious expression when you were concentrating. To have him as your sole audience was already titillating,  but the fact that he paid close attention was even more of a rush.

To have someone listen to you and wanting to hear your thoughts is just such a great way to show love 🥹

During the day, you anxiously looked forward to those handful of hours in which everything else disappeared. No speak of Rome, politics, or bitter memories, content with being each other’s brief escape.

That's just so cute 🥰

Yet he never made you feel inferior, often encouraging you to share your thoughts and opinions with him despite your reticence. You would even dare to say he cared, or at least that’s what you wanted to believe.

🥹🥹🥹

He glanced over his shoulder at you as you silently trailed behind them, but you didn’t meet his gaze.

Not the glance over the shoulder 🥺

“Ah, perhaps in the future, when I have more time to worry about such things,” he said, politely noncommittal. “But I appreciate the offer.”

He said "yeah thanks, but no thanks" just more politely 😅🤭

Even so, it was clear he had not wanted you to be hurt, and you were very thankful for that. You offered him a small smile and some tension seemed to leave his shoulders.

He really made sure she knows his feeling about this meeting!!

On the wall behind, there was a recently completed fresco of a gladiator riding a chariot pulled by two horses. For another wall, he had commissioned a portrait of Vesta, goddess of the home and the hearth, but it was still a work in progress. He was particularly proud of that one, an unspoken gift for you, his muse.

A fresco for his past as a gladiator and one for the future his wants, his muse😉

“I hope I haven’t tired you too much,” he said, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back. “You can take the rest of the evening off from reading if you’d like, but I would still appreciate some company.” “Well, I still need to draw your bath and…” “Somebody else can take care of it,” he cut in with a shrug, not preoccupied. You hesitated. “What would you have me do instead, then?” “Just sit back down, relax for a moment,” he said, getting up. “Here, you can have my chair. Much more comfortable.”

Urgh im swooning, he just wants her to relax and take care of her 🥰🥹

You froze as his face hovered mere inches away from yours, his breath fanning over your cupid’s bow. Delicately, he removed a stray eyelash that had been resting on your cheekbone, and he pulled back a little so you could see it on the pad of his finger. “Make a wish,” he said.

All you could do was stare at him for another breathless moment that seemed to stretch on infinitely. You licked your lips nervously, drawing his eyes there before they returned to hold your gaze. Your heart was like a nervous bird fluttering wildly in your ribcage. Your mind was mostly blank, but the one thought that popped up was ‘I wish he would close the distance right now.’

Valid reaction

“Lucius,” he pleaded, loathing the title. “Say it, please.”

The pleading 😮‍💨🥰

“Lucius,” you said finally, though your eyes still spelled defiance when you glanced at him. “Is it not obvious? We both know it’s impossible.” Your lower lip trembled slightly. “I have a heart, too, you know? I don’t want it to be broken.” “I know that, of course I know that!” He said, placing his hands on your shoulders and crouching in front of you. “I have no intention of breaking your heart.”

😭😭😭

“I do not care for such things. I would never demand them of you. Even if we cannot marry, I will not marry anyone else that isn’t you,” he said with a firm, determined shake of his head. “But I can still give you my name, along with your freedom. That’s all that matters to me.”

Urgh I just love that you can truly feel how he means it 🥹🥰

“I have been thinking of nothing else since I met you. I’ve already made the arrangements… I suppose I just didn’t want to ruin the surprise.” “You honor me,” you said, smiling despite the tears. “You always have.” “Why shouldn’t I?” He asked. “You have given me more than you think. You brought me the peace I have been so desperately seeking for a long time.”

🥰🥰🥰

“I-I don’t even know how to thank you.” You placed a hand over his. “If you desire to give me your name, then I shall give you mine in return.” You told him your name, the real one, which you had been hiding ever since your Roman name was given to you. He had never asked you for it, knowing that one’s name was the only thing one could truly own in this world. And now for you to give it freely… He repeated it, testing its shape on his tongue, and smiled radiantly.

I'm crying this is just so good 😭🥰

You knew by the disarming earnestness in his eyes he wasn’t just offering the name, but himself, as well. His whole heart in the palm of your hand, should you choose to care for it. You felt as if you had already made that choice a while ago, when you first recited Virgil back to him.

They shared their names to now entrust each other's hearts 💕

“I will,” you said with an elated chuckle. “Of course I will.” He took your hands in his, kissing both of them. “Then first thing tomorrow, we will make it official.”

He is just so excited for her, especially because he has thought about it for a while🥹

You leaned your forehead against his, your noses brushing as he tilted his head back. This time, it was you who brought your lips to his with a tentative sort of tenderness, propriety still at the back of your mind. He responded in kind, letting you set the pace so as not to scare you off. If you weren’t shaking so much, you might have noticed he was shaking, too.

 both if them shaking just shows how emotional and meaningful it is for the both of them 🥹🥰

Perhaps you had inherited the romanticism, after all. 

🥰🥰🥰

The air smelled of night-blooming jasmine, the fresh sweetness of it bringing you a sense of tranquility. You leaned against the windowsill, looking up at the stars and trying to piece together constellations. The world seemed drastically different now that you had your freedom, so vivid, so open, so alive. You even noticed it in your posture and the lightness with which you walked, as if you were floating. Lucius had said you were radiant with it.

I love that he not only noticed it but also adressed her new aura 🥰

He’d insisted on taking care of you the same way you’d cared for him, eager to show you his gratitude. You had been hesitant at first, but at his unwavering conviction, you relented, curious how it might feel to be spoiled. All that day, he had served you reverently, taking time off from his duties to focus solely on you.

You shook your head, desire making you a little more brave. “I… I would love some help undressing, though.” His spine straightened, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “With pleasure.”

Ahhhh it's happening!!

He crouched to slowly pull the hem of your long tunic upwards, rising with it. You lifted your arms so he could get it over your head, the fabric falling to the floor unceremoniously. Your eyes were fixed on his face, drinking in his expression as he took a step back to get a better look at you. The bare expanse of your skin robbed him of breath, his eyes roaming over every curve and plane of your figure. He wanted to sink to his knees again and lay his forehead at your feet in worship, but he stood still, his fingers twitching at his sides. “Have I told you enough times that you are beautiful?” He said. “I don’t think it has been enough.”

Oh, he is so ready to worship her even if it's just laying at her feet

You nodded, silently granting him permission. He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your lips before standing up. He took it upon himself to bathe you, starting out by scrubbing your scalp. You leaned into his touch, eyes closing in bliss. He smiled at your soft, pleasured hum, and vowed to elicit as many more as he could. 

I've had a head massage before, so I get it 😌

His eyes fell to your lips, slightly parted with want. He grasped your chin with his free hand, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “I have been thinking about this for a long time,” he said, leaning in to brush his nose against yours. “But I hadn’t wanted to touch you until now, when you actually felt like you had a choice in the matter.”

This is just one of those key elements in this story that I love so much!! Him giving her his name, showing how much he values her and giving her time and space to truly make up her own mind if she wants this, it's just perfection 🥰👏🏻

You clutched his wrist tighter, his thoughtfulness only making you want him more. All those hours he must have spent yearning, unaware that you were stuck thinking of him too. As emperor, he had the right to take whatever he wanted, but having previously been a gladiator, he understood the monumental importance of bodily autonomy. Very few people in Rome had such a privilege and he couldn’t bear the thought of being the one to rob you of it. 

A truly good man ❤️‍🩹🥹

Gently, he set you down on the bed and pulled away to remove his tunic. This time, you were not meek about his nakedness. You brazenly stared at him, eyes mapping out the lines of his muscles, the pink, raised skin of his scars, and the soft trail of hair on his abdomen that seemed to suggestively point downwards. 

A sight to be seen, I'm sure 🤭

He kissed you again, and again, and again. You were so close to him that the lines of your bodies became indivisible, but it still didn’t seem like enough.

🥰🥰🥰

Neither of you lasted very long, but it didn’t matter, as you were nowhere near spent. Lucius, still in the afterglow of his orgasm, lazily began to kiss you all over, wanting to discover every mole and freckle, every tender spot that made you squirm, and every other little detail that made you you. 

Aww rats just so cute, I love tender little moments like that (especially after some other things happening before 🤭)

After, you lied side by side, facing each other. You’d still not had your fill of him, but you needed to gather your strength for the long night ahead. You shared a breathy chuckle, as if still in disbelief it had finally happened, and he kissed your sweat-slick forehead.

I'm a true sucker for post-sex laughter and giggles shared together 🥰

He was just as grateful to have found you, his peace, his solace, the woman who would always guard his heart. He murmured your name reverently, a reminder that you were his, and he was yours.

I just loved this so so much 🥹🥰👏🏻

Imperator

Also on AO3

Pairing: Lucius Verus Aurelius x Fem!Reader

WC: 6.7k words

Summary: Once, you only had the memory of the curious barbarian poet, entertaining guests at a party with both violence and verse. But it's not until you see him again, now as emperor, that you get to know the man underneath the titles.

Warnings: Minors DNI this fic is 18+, power imbalance (emperor/servant to freedwoman), mutual pining, slow-ish burn, sort of forbidden love?, lots and lots of fluff good lord, some jealousy, some angst, lovey dovey smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), maybe some historical inaccuracies lol (I care a lot okay), and iii think that's it but lmk if anything else!

--------------

"Love will enter cloaked in friendship's name."

– Ovid.

-------------

“The gates of hell are open night and day. Smooth the descent, and easy is the way. But to return, and view the cheerful skies, In this the task and mighty labor lies.”

That was the first time you had ever heard him speak, the deep timbre of his voice riddled with contempt. Moments before, he had killed another gladiator, his blood spattered on him like a gruesome adornment. But there was no savagery in his fierce eyes, no mere bloodthirst in the sneer directed at Emperor Geta, your Dominus. His glare was even, like a cold, blue flame that promised not just violence, but retribution as well.

You’d recognized the poem immediately, just as taken aback as everyone else. Nobody moved, the room’s collective breath held in anticipation of the inevitable repercussions of such an offense. Emperor Geta made the slightest move to raise his sword and you gripped the decanter of wine tighter, but your face remained impassive.

“Virgil,” supplied Macrinus, trying to placate him with a broad smile. “He was taught poetry just to amuse you, Imperators.”

There was another momentary pause in which neither twin was sure if they should believe him. But then, Caracalla snorted, standing up to clap the taller man’s shoulder.

“A poet,” He said, laughing. “That’s genius, Macrinus.”

“Yes, certainly very amusing,” Geta said begrudgingly, his jaw clenched. 

He and the gladiator had not stopped staring at each other for one moment, like two vipers poised to strike. 

“Good, I thought you’d like that,” Macrinus said, approaching his fighter to grasp his shoulder, perhaps in warning. “We live to serve you both.”

“Well, I look forward to seeing your poet at the upcoming games in the Colosseum,” he spits out, throwing the sword aside with a loud clatter. “Let’s see how his verses work for him then.”

Macrinus nodded at his steward to take the gladiator away. He was smiling, seemingly amused, as the steward approached him. As he was being shoved back to the atrium, his eyes took one last baleful look around the room. For the briefest second, you thought his eyes met yours, striking you like a piercing arrow, but then he was gone. 

You had no time to dwell on it though, as Emperor Geta returned to his seat and raised his glass to be refilled. But that didn’t mean you would forget so easily, even if your paths might never cross again. All you could do was offer a prayer to the Gods for him. 

—--------------------------

The next time you saw him, he was no longer a barbarian gladiator hailed from a distant land, but the new – and rightful – Emperor of Rome. His name was not Hanno, but Lucius Verus Aurelius, and he was the son of the recently passed Queen Lucilla, whom Rome still mourned. 

He was not cruel like the twins had been, rarely raising his voice, much less his hand. His demeanor was usually calm, but sometimes he stalked the halls restlessly, as if unsure what he should be doing. He still rose with the sun and trained for a couple of hours in the morning, already used to the routine he’d had as a gladiator, but after that, it was all politics. Endless scrolls of parchment to pore over, meetings to hold with the senate, and lending a patient ear to the populace’s needs. The weight of an empire was on his shoulders, and yet he didn’t bow under it. 

During the day, you served his wine and silently hovered around for anything else he might need. At night, you drew his baths, kept his torches lit, and prepared his bed. You would have helped him disrobe too, already used to it from your days of serving Geta, but he chose to do so himself. He was not quite used to his every need being attended to, self-sufficiency deeply ingrained in his being. Mostly, he waved away other servants, leaving you instead to care for him personally. 

There were times when you caught him looking at you as if you seemed vaguely familiar, a furrow in his brow when he couldn’t place you. You couldn’t fault him for not remembering you from Senator Thraex’s party, but there was a certain thrill at having piqued his curiosity regardless. Still, you kept your head down and offered no hints, as was your place. 

Until one night, while he watched you add aromatic oils and test the bath’s temperature, he finally asked the question that had been on his mind for days.

“What is your name?”

You were startled at first, not having expected him to address you at all. You told him your given Roman name, Domicia, and bowed your head respectfully. He pushed himself off the doorway and stepped into the bathroom, humming thoughtfully.

“Of the home,” he said, referring to the name’s meaning. “Are you Roman? Is that your real name?”

You shook your head in answer to both questions. “I have been in Rome for many years now, though.”

“I have not,” he said, a note of melancholy in his voice. “Yet I grew up here, in these very halls…”

He trailed off, looking around absently, lost in his memories. You could not begin to imagine what he had been through, what he had seen. You had heard of his being sent away as a child, with absolutely no choice in the matter, and could empathize with him. 

All you had ever known was a humble life in your native country, until you were stripped of your freedom and brought to the capital of Rome. Neither place felt like home, just the past and the present, and perhaps he was viewing things the same way. You could imagine, even understand, the bittersweetness of returning to a place one thought they might never see again. 

“We are honored and grateful to have you back, Dominus,” you said. “I hope things have been to your satisfaction.”

“I have no complaints,” he said, yet he sighed. “Though becoming accustomed to being here, in my current position, is going to take some more time.”

“If there is anything I can do to make it easier for you, please let me know.”

He inclined his head gratefully, your eyes meeting for a moment. “Thank you, Domicia.”

He had the barest of smiles on his handsome face, but you could tell it was genuine. You felt one corner of your lips tugging upwards, but you looked away out of propriety. Even if you were in the same room, you were leagues apart, and it would do you no good to try to imagine otherwise.

You stood up, grabbing the decanter from a nearby table to have it refilled. “Your bath is ready now. Would you like refreshments other than wine?”

He nodded and you bowed, making your way out. By the time you returned with more wine and a platter of olives, bread, and cheese, he was already in the bathtub, leaning back with his eyes closed. Your feet padded softly on the mosaic floor to avoid  disturbing him, and you left his refreshments on the table near the tub.

You settled at one side of the room just in case he might need anything, staring off into the middle distance and letting your mind drift. He glanced at you sidelong, his curiosity having only grown after your brief conversation. He still had that nagging feeling that he had seen you somewhere before, but he didn’t want to ask outright.

You felt his gaze on you but pretended not to, keeping your eyes averted. You thought again of the poem he’d recited, how different his demeanor had been then. You wondered what other verses he’d been taught, and if you might ever hear him recite anything again. He had a voice for poetry, somehow turning the words into a sort of enchantment, keeping one entranced.

“Doesn’t it feel… strange sometimes?” he said suddenly, staring up at the ceiling. “When things settle and you realize how far you have come? How much you’ve had to sacrifice for it?”

You hummed in agreement, waiting for him to say more. 

“Sometimes, I even wonder if it was all worth it.”

Still lost in a haze of verses, you spoke before you could even think it through.

“Fortunate is he whose mind has the power to probe the causes of things and trample underfoot all terrors and inexorable fate.”

He sat up, surprised. “You know Virgil.” Recognition finally dawned on him. “You were at that party, weren’t you?”

You nodded. “Your words then were just as sharp as your blade.”

He huffed, leaning against the edge of the tub as he remembered his barely contained hatred. “Were you taught poetry to amuse, as well?”

“No, I used to read it with my mother when I was younger.”

“Who else have you read?”

“Ovid, Sappho, Horace…” You became a little flustered as he raised his eyebrows. “My mother was a bit of a romantic.”

“And you?”

It was your turn to huff with amusement, looking down at your hands. “I don’t believe I inherited that trait, no.”

The truth was that in a place such as Rome, love was quite hard to come by. You didn’t actively search for it, its ephemeral nature making you less inclined to, but you were no complete stranger to it. You’d never let it take root, though, for it was not something you could afford to have. 

“What about you, Dominus?”

“Me?” he said. “I suppose… I’m not entirely sure anymore. I used to be, at one point.”

His haunted expression told you not to press him for details, so you just nodded sympathetically. The two of you lapsed into silence, the weight of tragedy hanging between you. You’d had a lot more time to become numb to your circumstances, but it was clear the pain he was experiencing was still fresh. 

“I will be forced to remarry eventually.” He sighed heavily. “Produce heirs to carry out the lineage, show Rome a unified front.”

“Well, whoever you marry shall be the most fortunate woman in the empire.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, looking over at you. “You really believe so? You’re not just flattering me?”

“Of course,” you said, giving him a cryptic smile that made him laugh again. “I’m perfectly serious.”

“Oh, I am sure you are.”

After some time, he rose with a small splash, prompting you to immediately approach with an outstretched towel. His nudity barely registered in your mind, having already glimpsed him a few times. You wouldn’t dare to look at him directly, even if you were more than a little curious. You tensed as his fingers barely brushed yours in the exchange, but you quickly stepped back to give him more room.

He wrapped the towel around his waist, water dripping down his sculpted arms and chest. You went to start tidying up, studiously keeping your eyes on your task. He watched as you picked up the refreshments to take to the main chamber, a part of him wishing you would look at him instead. 

“One more thing,” he said and you immediately turned around. “Please, I want you to call me Lucius.”

Your face heated up at the mere thought of it. “I could never be so bold…”

“I insist,” he said, holding up a hand as you began to stammer again. “Perhaps only when it is just the two of us, if you’d prefer.”

“I will certainly try my best,” you said with an awkward grin, trying to keep your composure.

He chuckled. “Good enough for me.”

—-----------------

Weeks passed, and while Lucius still hadn’t managed to get you to call him by name, he had certainly gotten you to open up more. In the evenings, the two of you swapped more poetry, often sharing your own interpretations of the verses. At some point, he even had scrolls fetched from the library for you to read to him. He enjoyed the mellifluous sound of your voice, so at odds with your serious expression when you were concentrating. To have him as your sole audience was already titillating,  but the fact that he paid close attention was even more of a rush.

During the day, you anxiously looked forward to those handful of hours in which everything else disappeared. No speak of Rome, politics, or bitter memories, content with being each other’s brief escape. You still held yourself at a certain distance, though, always aware of the chasm between you. Yet he never made you feel inferior, often encouraging you to share your thoughts and opinions with him despite your reticence. You would even dare to say he cared, or at least that’s what you wanted to believe.

You wouldn’t necessarily say you were getting attached, for that would be too unrealistic of a fantasy, but you could not deny the butterflies in your stomach that often appeared while around him. His easy, handsome smile, the kindness in his eyes, his patient indulgence when listening to you, and the effort he put into making you laugh…

But the spell was abruptly broken the day he received a visit from his friend Ravi, who had brought someone for him to meet – a respectable Roman lady. A widow, as it happened, just like Lucius. Her hair was perfectly styled, falling in ringlets that framed her lovely face. She wore a lavender-colored dress with a matching veil, much fancier than anything you’d ever owned, and was adorned with golden jewelry. More importantly, she was freeborn, and thus a perfectly good candidate for marriage.

You swallowed hard, otherwise keeping your expression neutral. You hadn’t thought he would start meeting potential brides so soon, and you certainly hadn’t expected how it would make you feel. At least, Lucius also seemed surprised, not expecting his friend to try to set him up without consulting him first. Still, he assumed the role of gracious host and welcomed them warmly, leading them out to the gardens. He glanced over his shoulder at you as you silently trailed behind them, but you didn’t meet his gaze.

The three of them reclined on the couches of the outdoor dining area, shaded by a wooden pergola. It was a beautiful sunny day, the birds singing accompanied by the gurgle of the large fountain at the center of the garden. A gentle breeze stirred the foliage, carrying the faint, sweet smell of a dozen different flowers. 

You served them wine and hovered close by as another servant brought them food to snack on. Lucius had deliberately sat across from where you stood just so he could keep an eye on you. You’d withdrawn into yourself, trying your hardest to remain indifferent instead of worrying about whether the meeting went well or not. If it did, then you had to be happy for him, but if it didn’t… Well, at least that would buy you a little more time, if nothing else.

“Such a lovely garden,” the lady, Ilaria, said as she looked around. “One could never tire of such a view.”

Lucius nodded absently but said nothing, as if he hadn’t heard her.

“I could see you fitting in perfectly with all the other flowers here,” Ravi cut in, smiling with as much charm as he could muster to make up for it.

Ilaria inclined her head, modestly waving off the compliment. “Oh, you flatter me, Ravi.”

He gave Lucius a subtle, pointed look to encourage him to follow his lead. Lucius sat up and cleared his throat, only just focusing on the conversation. He had been trying to get your attention as subtly as possible, but he hadn’t been successful. 

“Er, yes, it’s always a treat to spend time out here. Certainly helps to clear the mind.”

Ravi shook his head a little and tried not to snort with amusement, thinking he was a lost case. Ilaria smiled, unbothered, taking a handful of grapes from a platter and popping one into her mouth. 

“I’d wager there is much on your plate, Imperator,” she said. “And having to manage the household staff on top of everything else… Must be a little overwhelming for you, no?”

“Well, I am a very busy man, yes, but it hasn’t been all that bad,” Lucius said. “I’ve certainly had a great deal of support to see me through.”

His words managed to reach you, softening you up infinitesimally. This time, when he glanced at you, you finally looked back. The ghost of a smile was on your face, but you quickly looked away before it could actually manifest.

“I see. Well, I’m very glad to hear that,” Ilaria said, sharing a curious glance with Ravi, who looked slightly apologetic. “Though perhaps you have considered that having someone run the house for you would take a big burden off your shoulders. I would be more than happy to lend a hand if you’d consider it.”

His eyebrows raised slightly at her boldness, not missing the eagerness in her gaze, poorly concealed behind her innocently helpful demeanor. He certainly did not want to get her hopes up, but he smiled graciously to soften the blow.

“Ah, perhaps in the future, when I have more time to worry about such things,” he said, politely noncommittal. “But I appreciate the offer.”

Her smile wavered and then froze, not wanting to seem too disappointed. “Of course, Imperator.”

For the remainder of their visit, Lucius let them do most of the talking, any remarks he made were studiously polite and yet still a little aloof. Finally, after a few hours, he excused himself, needing to return to his duties. Ravi seemed hesitant, like he wanted to stay behind and speak to him privately, but he would have to wait for another day. He escorted them both out, thanking them for visiting, but he did not exactly invite Ilaria to return to the palace. Her disappointment was more palpable then, but she hid it with as much grace as she could muster.

When they were gone, he turned to you with a shake of his head and a sigh, grinning with bewilderment.

“I do not enjoy being ambushed,” he said as if he felt the need to explain himself. “Decent enough as she seemed.”

You bowed your head in agreement, more relieved than you would like to admit. You had no real reason to have been upset earlier, given that there was nothing between you except for a certain kinship. Even so, it was clear he had not wanted you to be hurt, and you were very thankful for that. You offered him a small smile and some tension seemed to leave his shoulders.

He inclined his head towards the eastern hallway leading to his study. “Come, I would like you to read some documents to me. I can get work done faster that way.”

The tablinum was spacious but cozy, with a door to one side that led to a smaller patio. Before, the twin emperors had never used the room, but now it seemed well lived in. There was a mess of scrolls and wax tablets all over his desk that he still hadn’t let you organize. On the wall behind, there was a recently completed fresco of a gladiator riding a chariot pulled by two horses. For another wall, he had commissioned a portrait of Vesta, goddess of the home and the hearth, but it was still a work in progress. He was particularly proud of that one, an unspoken gift for you, his muse.

You lit the oil lamps in their alcoves, bathing the room in warm light. Lucius sat at his desk with a heavy exhale and scanned his notes to remember where he had left off the previous day. You sat on a stool beside him, unfurling the scroll he handed you and resting it on your knees. The texts you read didn’t always make sense to you, but you understood their importance. The fact that he was entrusting you with such work was an honor you did not take for granted.

“Start in that middle section. There is some stuff I would like to revisit,” he said, taking up his stylus. 

You nodded, finding what he was referring to and starting right away. You read to him for the next couple of hours, only stopping if he needed you to repeat something or in case he needed more time to make his notes. A few times during the latter, you glanced up to take in the focused furrow of his brow, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he pondered. You wondered what he might be thinking about, wishing he would impart some more knowledge on you. 

Outside, the sun was beginning to set, shadows deepening in the corners of the room. Another servant brought him dinner, but he didn’t seem too hungry yet. He handed you his cup of water when he heard you clear your throat a few times, insisting when you were reluctant to take it. 

When he was done for the day, he stretched his arms over his head with a groan and slumped in his seat. You neatly rolled the parchment back up and stood so you could stretch your legs. 

“I hope I haven’t tired you too much,” he said, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back. “You can take the rest of the evening off from reading if you’d like, but I would still appreciate some company.”

“Well, I still need to draw your bath and…”

“Somebody else can take care of it,” he cut in with a shrug, not preoccupied.

You hesitated. “What would you have me do instead, then?”

“Just sit back down, relax for a moment,” he said, getting up. “Here, you can have my chair. Much more comfortable.”

You were about to protest, but he gave you a look that said it was not up for discussion. You pursed your lips, uncomfortable at the idea of being idle, especially while taking up his seat. Still, you obeyed and sat down, hands folded on your lap. Feeling a little bold, you looked at him as if to say ‘satisfied?’ and he huffed in amusement.

“Wait, stay still,” he murmured suddenly, leaning down.

You froze as his face hovered mere inches away from yours, his breath fanning over your cupid’s bow. Delicately, he removed a stray eyelash that had been resting on your cheekbone, and he pulled back a little so you could see it on the pad of his finger.

“Make a wish,” he said.

All you could do was stare at him for another breathless moment that seemed to stretch on infinitely. You licked your lips nervously, drawing his eyes there before they returned to hold your gaze. Your heart was like a nervous bird fluttering wildly in your ribcage. Your mind was mostly blank, but the one thought that popped up was ‘I wish he would close the distance right now.’

You gently blew the eyelash away, your wish scattering into the air alongside it. The Gods must have decided to grant it immediately, for he did not pull away, instead slowly leaning in. His lips brushed yours tentatively and you closed your eyes, rejoicing for the barest second before you forced your face to turn away.

“We shouldn’t…” you murmured, the words hard to utter when a desperate want clung to your throat like honey.

“Why not?” He whispered.

“It’s not– I’m not…” You vaguely gestured towards yourself, unsure of what the right words were. 

He pulled back to look at you better. “Was I too presumptuous?”

You shook your head. “Not at all.”

“Then what is it?” He pressed.

“Dominus, please.”

“Lucius,” he pleaded, loathing the title. “Say it, please.”

“Lucius,” you said finally, though your eyes still spelled defiance when you glanced at him. “Is it not obvious? We both know it’s impossible.” Your lower lip trembled slightly. “I have a heart, too, you know? I don’t want it to be broken.”

“I know that, of course I know that!” He said, placing his hands on your shoulders and crouching in front of you. “I have no intention of breaking your heart.”

“Surely you understand where I am coming from, though.” You sniffed, keeping tears at bay. “I am not wife material, like the lady Ilaria. I have nothing to offer, no dowry, no family name, or even an inkling of Patrician blood. ”

“I do not care for such things. I would never demand them of you. Even if we cannot marry, I will not marry anyone else that isn’t you,” he said with a firm, determined shake of his head. “But I can still give you my name, along with your freedom. That’s all that matters to me.”

You gasped, the shock of his words akin to a bucket of ice water being dumped over you. Now you let the tears spill over, like a dam had finally burst. He kissed them away, his hands cupping your face gently.

“I have been thinking of nothing else since I met you. I’ve already made the arrangements… I suppose I just didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“You honor me,” you said, smiling despite the tears. “You always have.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” He asked. “You have given me more than you think. You brought me the peace I have been so desperately seeking for a long time.”

“I-I don’t even know how to thank you.” You placed a hand over his. “If you desire to give me your name, then I shall give you mine in return.”

You told him your name, the real one, which you had been hiding ever since your Roman name was given to you. He had never asked you for it, knowing that one’s name was the only thing one could truly own in this world. And now for you to give it freely… He repeated it, testing its shape on his tongue, and smiled radiantly.

“Pairs rather well with Lucia Veria, if I do say so myself,” he said with a proud chuckle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “If you’ll have it, that is.”

You knew by the disarming earnestness in his eyes he wasn’t just offering the name, but himself, as well. His whole heart in the palm of your hand, should you choose to care for it. You felt as if you had already made that choice a while ago, when you first recited Virgil back to him.

“I will,” you said with an elated chuckle. “Of course I will.”

He took your hands in his, kissing both of them. “Then first thing tomorrow, we will make it official.”

More tears flowed as a result of an overwhelming rush of both gratitude and love. You had tried to ignore your feelings, not uprooting them but instead silently letting them grow unacknowledged. For once, it had seemed worth the risk of heartbreak. After all, the love hadn’t stemmed from something as fleeting as lust, but a mutual understanding and respect. It was more than you could ever ask for, and yet everything you desired.

You leaned your forehead against his, your noses brushing as he tilted his head back. This time, it was you who brought your lips to his with a tentative sort of tenderness, propriety still at the back of your mind. He responded in kind, letting you set the pace so as not to scare you off. If you weren’t shaking so much, you might have noticed he was shaking, too. 

In that kiss, there was the promise of mutual devotion, sweet and sincere. You were still holding each other’s hands, as if afraid you might drift apart if you let go. You understood then why odes were written about this feeling, as all-consuming as the churning waves of the sea. All those verses had never resonated with you more. 

Perhaps you had inherited the romanticism, after all. 

—------------------

The air smelled of night-blooming jasmine, the fresh sweetness of it bringing you a sense of tranquility. You leaned against the windowsill, looking up at the stars and trying to piece together constellations. The world seemed drastically different now that you had your freedom, so vivid, so open, so alive. You even noticed it in your posture and the lightness with which you walked, as if you were floating. Lucius had said you were radiant with it.

He’d insisted on taking care of you the same way you’d cared for him, eager to show you his gratitude. You had been hesitant at first, but at his unwavering conviction, you relented, curious how it might feel to be spoiled. All that day, he had served you reverently, taking time off from his duties to focus solely on you.

You couldn’t help getting flustered at all the attention, his ardent gaze like a caress every time it met yours. His touch had so far been entirely chaste, but even the smallest, most innocuous contact was heightened with anticipation. The brush of his fingers over yours when he handed you something, a guiding hand on your lower back, even a touch on your shoulder to make you aware of his presence.

There were a few sneaked kisses in both the garden and the tablinum, each one of them leaving an undercurrent of warmth under your skin that promised more. It was like a slow, drawn-out game of chase, neither of you in a rush to reach its conclusion. If anything, it only made you want each other more. 

After the sun had set, when the two of you drifted along as if in a drunken stupor, Lucius went to prepare a bath for you in his chambers. You were nervous and exhilarated, every moment spent waiting for him to be done an exquisite agony. Until finally, he poked his head around the bathroom door.

“It’s ready now,” he said, beckoning you with a smile.

You followed him into the bathroom, hands wringing anxiously. Flower petals were scattered on the mosaic floor, leading towards the steaming tub. Flickering candles bathed the room in a warm glow, making your shadows dance on the wall. You looked at each other, both knowing what the next step was but hesitant to initiate it. He averted his gaze first, gesturing towards the door.

“Would you like me to give you some privacy?”

You shook your head, desire making you a little more brave. “I… I would love some help undressing, though.”

His spine straightened, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “With pleasure.”

He crouched to slowly pull the hem of your long tunic upwards, rising with it. You lifted your arms so he could get it over your head, the fabric falling to the floor unceremoniously. Your eyes were fixed on his face, drinking in his expression as he took a step back to get a better look at you. The bare expanse of your skin robbed him of breath, his eyes roaming over every curve and plane of your figure. He wanted to sink to his knees again and lay his forehead at your feet in worship, but he stood still, his fingers twitching at his sides.

“The evening star is the most beautiful of all stars,”  he said in a low voice, quoting Sappho.

Warmth spread from your chest to your face, and you smiled coyly as another verse came to mind. “Come to me once more, and abate my torment…”

You offered him your hand, which he took, and he led you to the tub. You daintily stepped in, sighing contentedly as you sank into the water’s enveloping warmth. He knelt next to the tub, leaning against it with one arm propped on the edge. 

“Have I told you enough times that you are beautiful?” He said. “I don’t think it has been enough.”

You huffed with amusement, looking down as you fought a geeky grin. “Well, about a hundred times with just your eyes. A few times out loud, though.”

He chuckled. “I suppose I’ll have to show you in other ways, too… If I may.”

You nodded, silently granting him permission. He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your lips before standing up. He took it upon himself to bathe you, starting out by scrubbing your scalp. You leaned into his touch, eyes closing in bliss. He smiled at your soft, pleasured hum, and vowed to elicit as many more as he could. 

Things took on an almost ritualistic quality, with him focused entirely on his task. You were loose limbed, letting him move you about as he used a cloth to scrub your skin. He didn’t try anything that might be deemed unsavory, though you let his tender, reverential touch reach places no one had touched in a very, very long time. But he didn’t linger, to your slight frustration, not wanting to jump into things too quickly. The flames of your desire were stoked slowly, warmth running through you like sweet wine. 

When he was done, he helped you step out of the tub and immediately got to drying you off with a towel. You caught his eye for a moment, his pupils blown wide with equally fervent desire. You stopped yourself from clutching his arm, wanting to anchor yourself to him, but he could still tell you were growing restless. He kissed your shoulder, tapping the tip of your nose playfully with his finger.

“Not done quite yet,” he murmured, not missing the way you involuntarily pressed your thighs together. “You’ve always been very patient.”

“For the first time, I fear it might be running thin…” you said, to which he smiled. 

He grabbed a small glass bottle of rose oil and lathered some in his hands. He anointed your body with it, the heady scent of one of Venus’s favorite flowers permeating the air. As he reached your chest, you took hold of his wrist and brought his palm to rest over your heart. He felt it beating rapidly, your chest rising and falling with each panting breath.

His eyes fell to your lips, slightly parted with want. He grasped your chin with his free hand, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

“I have been thinking about this for a long time,” he said, leaning in to brush his nose against yours. “But I hadn’t wanted to touch you until now, when you actually felt like you had a choice in the matter.”

You clutched his wrist tighter, his thoughtfulness only making you want him more. All those hours he must have spent yearning, unaware that you were stuck thinking of him too. As emperor, he had the right to take whatever he wanted, but having previously been a gladiator, he understood the monumental importance of bodily autonomy. Very few people in Rome had such a privilege and he couldn’t bear the thought of being the one to rob you of it. 

You kissed him in response, much fiercer, hungrier, than all the other kisses you had shared so far. A desperate sound escaped his throat and he clasped you against him tightly. Swiftly, he scooped you up into his strong arms and carried you out to the bedchamber as he would a bride.

Gently, he set you down on the bed and pulled away to remove his tunic. This time, you were not meek about his nakedness. You brazenly stared at him, eyes mapping out the lines of his muscles, the pink, raised skin of his scars, and the soft trail of hair on his abdomen that seemed to suggestively point downwards. 

His shoulders were squared with pride at your ogling, a sly smile on his face. He’d had an inkling before of your attraction, but to see it on full display was narcotic, and he felt himself pulse with an aching need.

“Come closer,” you said softly.

He did, climbing over you, his warmth immediately enveloping you. You hid your face on the junction between his neck and shoulder, embarrassed at all the thoughts rushing through your mind.

“What is it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow with amusement.

“Nothing,” you said, voice muffled against his skin. “I just… I do not think you realize how badly I wanted this, too. I-I don’t want to ever stop.”

He chuckled indulgently, nudging your head so you’d look at him. “Neither do I.”

He kissed you again, and again, and again. You were so close to him that the lines of your bodies became indivisible, but it still didn’t seem like enough. Your knees hiked up to his hips in a silent plea, but he did not give in quite yet, wanting to prolong things for as long as he could.

Still, unable to resist a little bit of mutual torment, he slid upwards until his hips were aligned with yours. You gasped as you felt the velvety underside of his erection against your slick folds, each small movement making you tremble. Your brows furrowed and your lips parted in a wanton expression, your eyes shiny and half lidded as you looked at him.

“Lucius,” you whimpered. 

“I know,” he murmured soothingly, kissing your neck. “I know.”

Neither of you were willing to break apart from your embrace, so there wasn’t actually much of a preamble. Feverish, he sank into you slowly, your nails digging into his biceps as he stretched you open. That first round was frantic, almost animalistic, all the pent up longing finally being released. His body rolled over yours with the power of the sea’s waves, leaving you awash in ecstasy.

Neither of you lasted very long, but it didn’t matter, as you were nowhere near spent. Lucius, still in the afterglow of his orgasm, lazily began to kiss you all over, wanting to discover every mole and freckle, every tender spot that made you squirm, and every other little detail that made you you. 

He settled between your thighs, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive bundle of nerves. You tried to prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, but he wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you closer. 

“What are you– Oh,” you gasped at the first flick of his tongue, the entirely new sensation disarming you. 

He tasted his essence mixed with yours, a groan rumbling in his chest. You tightly grasped the sheets under you, arching against his face. You bit your lip to stop yourself from making the most undignified sounds, but it was hard to focus, especially as his fingers were added into the mix. Your body burned brighter than any brazier, his arms pinning you down as he conquered you with his mouth. You shattered once more, crying out as he helped you ride it all the way through. 

After, you lied side by side, facing each other. You’d still not had your fill of him, but you needed to gather your strength for the long night ahead. You shared a breathy chuckle, as if still in disbelief it had finally happened, and he kissed your sweat-slick forehead.

“Now that was poetry,” you said jokingly, making him laugh again. 

“You put every verse to shame, my love,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You kissed his palm, adoring, and tangled your legs with his. A swell of emotion unlike anything you had ever felt rose within you. It was as if he had awakened a new part of you that you hadn’t known was dormant, bringing you back from an existence that consisted solely of drifting through days that blended into one another.

He was just as grateful to have found you, his peace, his solace, the woman who would always guard his heart. He murmured your name reverently, a reminder that you were his, and he was yours. You drew closer to him, like a moth to flame, and pushed him onto his back, straddling him. His hands came to rest on your hips and your eyes were full of mirth as you held his gaze.

“As it happens, I find myself compelled to compose some more with you.” You grinned playfully, hands sliding up his chest. 

He mirrored your grin, not minding the idea one bit. “Relentless, just like the great muse Calliope.”

“Well, when inspiration strikes… It can’t be helped, can it?”

“No,” he said. “Not when it comes to you.”

------

[thunderg]

Sweather Weather | Kim Taehyung x Reader

a/n: Hi! if you enjoy it, please like it, reblog it and comment, this helps me to keep going <3

Genre: Fluff, Normal au, Soulmates.

Warning: None...i think.

Wc: 1412

The store was quiet. It was noon, which meant there were no customers, allowing him to work with serenity and pay attention to the smallest details: the smell of the flowers, the soft ray of sunlight illuminating the room. He was in his element, so much so that he allowed himself to hum a song while preparing an order for one of his clients.

Taehyung had always loved flowers. He knew some considered it unmanly, but he didn’t care anymore, not when this job allowed him to be surrounded by beautiful things.

–Must be something~ –he sang as he placed the arrangement on the table.

Since he was a child, he had felt a special fascination with beautiful things. It wasn’t an obsession, but his appreciation was so evident that it was impossible to ignore. His mother often told him that in a past life, he had been an artist. Although said lightly, that statement always stirred up a strange feeling in him, a kind of nostalgia he couldn't quite understand.

He never wanted to investigate why he felt this way. He believed in cheesy things like fate, and hoped that someday, fate would clarify the doubt that tormented him. Yoongi, one of his older friends, had always thought his beliefs were stupid and childish. It wasn’t that the man was bad, he just... had very strong opinions. If you didn’t get along with him, you’d never earn his favor.

On more than one occasion, he had tried to convince him that things like love at first sight weren’t as pathetic as he thought. Of course, he had wasted an entire day of his life on the attempt. Fine, maybe he was a little stubborn on the subject, but who could blame him? His love for beautiful and cheesy things had grown so much that, by now, it was impossible to ignore—even for himself.

It was almost sad that, despite being someone well-versed in all the things women supposedly liked, he had never found the love of his life. Sure, he’d had a girlfriend or two, but nothing special, nothing that made him feel those butterflies in his stomach that everyone talked about. He longed to smile like an idiot just thinking about that special person.

Every day, he had to watch people get the things he longed for, with the bouquets he put so much effort into. Was he cursed? Was he so unpleasant to the female population? He sighed, defeated. It wasn’t worth thinking about, he tried to convince himself. However, this whole issue tormented him more than anyone would care to admit. Dying alone didn’t sound appealing at all.

The sound of the bell at the front door interrupted his train of thought. He lifted his head, almost gasping when he saw who entered the store. Damn, had he died or was he seeing an angel? The strangest part was that her face looked oddly familiar. Was she a model? It didn’t matter, his heart was racing, his hands were sweating, and his throat had dried up. How would he speak to her in this state?

The girl timidly approached the counter. At moments like these, he regretted not having hired someone to help him. She was so beautiful that it made him want to flee to the farthest corner of the room. He mentally prepared himself to be disappointed, to hear that she just wanted to order a bouquet for her cute, rich European boyfriend with golden retriever vibes. He almost scoffed at the thought.

–G-Good morning –she murmured, quickly correcting herself when she saw the clock on the wall–. Sorry, good afternoon.

Taehyung bit his lower lip, trying to hold back a smile. She was so adorable, embarrassed. It made him want to scream with joy. He took a deep breath and put on his commercial smile.

–How can I help you, miss?

The young woman nervously fiddled with the hem of her sweater.

–W-Well, I need a flower arrangement.

Here it comes –he thought–: "for my boyfriend." He was already ready to dismiss his fleeting crush.

–My friend’s boyfriend is having a dance recital, and she asked me to buy some flowers here.

He gave a soft clap, unable to contain himself. To his relief, it passed off as excitement to start working.

–What flowers do you need? Do you have something in mind?

She clumsily took out her phone, almost dropping it in the process.

–She needs lilies and pink peonies, with a card for a message… please –she said, looking at him with puppy-dog eyes.

Done. Now he was a puddle melted by this girl’s cuteness. How could someone be so beautiful and yet so adorable? It was unfair.

–Right away, miss.

As best as he could, he gathered the necessary flowers for the bouquet. He bit his lip; this bouquet had to be perfect. He didn’t want to look like a fool in front of her. He wanted to curse when he saw his hands trembling. This would make the task more difficult. He took a deep breath; he could do this, he had been doing this for years. He adjusted his glasses and continued. Once he managed to make something decent enough to justify the years he’d spent working, he took a card—small, discreet, just enough to be pretty. He grabbed a pencil and then looked at the girl.

–Alright, what should I write? –he asked.

She blushed furiously as she checked the order for her friend, avoiding his gaze in the process.

–G-Glad to have you by my side... –she swallowed nervously and whispered something more.

–Could you repeat that, miss? I didn’t catch it.

–I said… or have you on top of me, whichever you prefer.

She covered her face, letting her hair fall like a waterfall, as extra protection for her gaze, visibly embarrassed by her friend’s message. This time, he couldn’t contain his laughter.

–Wow, your friend is original –he smiled as he finished writing the card.

The girl stammered an apology, clearly embarrassed. He gently shook his head, amused by the situation, but when their hands brushed while he handed her the bouquet, a sensation hit him like lightning. Suddenly, images that didn’t seem his own but were terribly familiar formed in his mind: the sound of rain hitting the windows, a warm hug, a kiss that seemed to contain all the love in the world.

In that memory, he was hugging her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder, where the soft sweater of the girl cushioned the contact. Her scent made him feel at home, and her presence filled him with a calm that made him drowsy. The gentle tapping of the rain accompanied the moment, while she, in silence, tenderly stroked his hands, enjoying both his company and the warmth he provided.

–I’m freezing, Tae. You shouldn’t hug me, you’ll get cold –she murmured, concerned.

–It doesn’t matter, I like being able to share my warmth with you –he responded with a calm smile. He loved knowing that, despite how old and worn-out his sweater was, it could still keep them both warm: him and the person he loved.

He took her chin and kissed her as if it were the last kiss they were going to share. And even if it were, Taehyung was sure of one thing: even if a thousand lives passed, he would make sure to find her in each and every one of them. His soul and his body belonged to her completely.

He regained his senses when he heard the girl shriek in surprise at the accidental contact.

–What was that? –she asked, stunned, while taking a step back.

He looked at her with a mix of amazement and happiness.

–We’ve found each other again, darling –he said with a soft laugh.

Suddenly, everything made sense. His purpose in life, all those inexplicable passions and desires. Everything clicked when he saw her again. He felt complete, as if the missing piece of his life had finally found its place. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, as if everything he had been searching for in his life had finally made sense. His heart was beating fast, but also with an unexpected calm, as if he were finally in the right place, with the right person. He would never be alone again, nor would he have to long for the ghost of a memory. She was there, in front of him, looking as unreal as the first time. And although he still didn’t know what would happen next, he was sure of one thing: he wasn’t going to let her go this time.

Masterlist

(Banners of @cafekitsune)

[anitalianfrie]

So. You once believed tumblr to be your safe space, your archive, your goldmine. Instead, thanks to "unforseen" circumstances (fuck you dorna), you now fear for the safety and integrity of your blog and you want to know if there's a quick way to download a lot of posts without having to do it manually (I spent half an hour yesterday doing it. Do not recommend)

Fret not my child, and welcome to

How to save the posts under a whole tag in five easy steps!

Needed preface: while this method works great for images, videos, and gifs, the same thing cannot be said for text post, which will be saved in unreadable html. I mean, you can always feed the file to a compiler, I guess. Or painstakingly copy paste everything on word. Maybe it could work on ao3 too, actually, I should check.

ANYWAYS.

Step 1: go here, and download the zip file. Once you've done it, extract it, open it, and run the program, that inside the folder will look like

this. (the one in the centre. so that we're all on the same page)

Step 2: once you've done it, you'll run to me saying "cate anitalianfrie, this graphic interface looks like a relic from the nineties!" to which I'll answer, yes, but it works and that's all that matters. Then, you'll open the settings (gear on the botton right of the page) , go to the page named "blog" and where you see the option "tags" put the tag you want to download the content from.

(it's located in the bottom right section of the page)

the space will be blank. put the tag without the "#", and with the spaces.

if you want to download from more than one tag at a time, you can! just beware that it's not an intersection of the two tags (aka: not downloading the post that have both tags) but a union (aka: WILL download posts with one, the other or both tags). if that's still fine by you, put a "," between a tag and the other (ex: "my gif, cate.txt").

SAVE BEFORE CLOSING THE SETTINGS

Step 3(optional): the program automatically saves in the folder blog inside the folder your program is in. if you wish to change this, go to the "general" page of the setting. at the top, you'll see this:

go to browse and select the floder you want to put your posts in. (ps. obviously your download location will be different than mine. i've already changed it. the standard would have been C:\User\your_username\wherever_you_extracted_the_zip\Blogs)

SAVE BEFORE CLOSING THE SETTINGS

Step 4: past the link of your blog as https://www.your_blog_name.tumblr.com or https://www.tumblr.com/your_blog_name (ex: https://www.anitalianfrie.tumblr.com, https://www.tumblr.com/anitalianfrie) in the little space down on the left,

and press "add blog" on its right

Step 5: click two times on the blog (it now should be at the top of the page) and click "download"

And voilà you're all set! Wait for the machine to finish the crawl and enjoy your newly downloaded content