#yes I have lost my ever loving mind but enjoy

[samsheughan]

Sutures ↳ Chapter 10: Lore and Legacy

A/N: welp...this is it. The last chapter of fanfiction I will ever write. After 25 years of writing fic in one form or another, I am finally ready to retire. I am forever grateful to this fandom for giving me the freedom to create and write amazing stories and for the love y'all continue to give me. Thank you and enjoy!

Beta: @islayandlochs (you gorgeous babe you 😘)

“Sae young,” Jamie whispered into Claire’s hair. “How ye could deal wi’ sae much loss at such a young age…”

“You learn to pick up the pieces and move along, I suppose,” Claire replied, muffled as her face was pressed into his chest. 

-----

Their bare limbs were intertwined between the bed sheets and each other, deliberately exploring, touching and kissing, caressing and stroking, as if time had stopped just for them. Jamie was unconsciously running his fingers through Claire’s slightly frizzled curls, his other hand languidly moving up and down her back. Claire had taken particular interest in the hairs on his chest, a finger coasting through its coarse ruddiness gently. 

They had made love cautiously at first, tender and aware that the other might have potential sensitivities, but it didn’t take long for them to realize that they needn’t be gentle, or subtle. 

What they needed was each other.

“Do it now! And don’t be gentle!” 

It was all Claire had to say before Jamie lost himself completely in his desire for her body and soul. And Claire didn’t hesitate to give him the same fervor. Hearts racing, sweat gleaming, and breathless, they rode the ride of each other’s pleasure til it’s conclusion, where they laid back down, exhausted yet irresistibly happy. 

Both of them had been sexually oppressed in one form or another for far too long, that was clear. And while Jamie believed it wasn’t his business to guess what kept Claire chaste, his own sensitivities brought back memories embedded not only in his mind and heart, but in his flesh.

“It’s been a while for you, hasn’t it?” Claire had asked him.

“Since I’ve taken a woman to my bed? Perhaps. Since I’ve made proper love to a woman I desire? Well…ye might want to call me a virgin in that regard, Sassenach.”

“Oh? Is that a story you’re willing to share?”

Jamie took a deep breath, feeling the resistance of Claire’s head pillowed on top of his chest, and commended his soul to God.

“Aye. I think it’s time ye ken my true tale, Sassenach.”

Continue on AO3

[0bunnyia]

현진 ─── Painted Canvas

Lost in the gray of everyday life, you find an unexpected connection with a stranger in an art gallery. As days pass, an unspoken bond forms—until one day, he disappears. Left with only memories and a blank page, you begin to write. But fate has one last masterpiece to show you.

Pair: Artist! Hyunjin x Writer! Reader

— this is the longest fic I've ever written HUHUU, I enjoyed writing this so please enjoy reading it too!!<33 and if you ever feel like you're struggling, please don't keep it to yourself!! Please reach out to your close one!! You will pass all of it, promised!! 🙇🏻‍♀️

⚠️ : Mentions of emotional exhaustion (reader is struggling), open ending if that counts. wc: 1,1k

Alexa, play an art gallery could never be as unique as you by mrld.

It wasn't always like this, you used to believed that life is worth dreaming of—something that you look forward to. But now? It's just days to pass, draining in your own energy, wondering if anyone's notice.

The world feels muted, it's like someone took away all the color, leaving it only gray. Each day gets harder to pass, like a book with fading ink, it's story slipping away before you can hold on to it.

The sun rises and sets, each day grows harder to pass. You wondered, is life really worth dreaming of?

Then, you saw him.

It was the usual day, you groan as the sun paid its visit to you, shining through the window. The sound of bird chirping can be heard, as if they were making fun of you.

You stayed still for a second. The world outside has already begun it's day, as if it has no choice but to keep moving, while you linger on the edges of it, unwelcome.

You get out of your bed eventually, getting ready just because you have to. Tho, you don't have much to do.

Sitting in the balcony, you stare at the blank paper in front of you, trying to write something, to make sense of something. But your mind was still making fun of you, indicating that you will not be able to write again.

You decided to take a walk, leaving the darkness of your house and touch some grass. Fate must have planned something for you because you found yourself in front of an art gallery.

You were never interested in painting, it was never something that captivated you. You never understand how a few stroke of brush can be so valuable to one. You should've left, there was nothing interesting inside, you thought. But your feet betrayed you.

Taking a step into the gallery, you walk through the entrance, the cold air brushing to your skin. It feels different, like it was waiting for you. The walls are full of painting, walking through each, you find yourself stopping at the painting across of you.

Your gaze locks onto the piece before you. The colors blends away in another, making you wonder where one stops. It strokes is hard to tell where it started and where it ends. A truly captivating painting that make you stop thinking for a second. “Loving you is my safe place“ you mumble under your breath.

Safe, that word felt foreign for a long time. You exhaled, observing the painting In front of you again when you've heard a voice behind you.

“I see you've found my favorite painting“ the voice was smooth, soothing and unhurried. You turned to the owner of the voice. There you see a man standing there. He had dark eyes and relaxed stances, you forget how to breathe for a moment, admiring the man behind you.

You blinked, grounding yourself before fully turning around, facing the mysterious man. “Oh—do you come here often?“ your voice feels lighter than before. “You could say that“ he tilted his head, before gazing back to the painting, you followed his gaze.

“It feels, safe? It gives you a feeling like home, sorta.“ you spoke “Then it did it's job well.“ “Is this your first time here?“ his gaze turning back at you, you found yourself staring at his eyes. You can't lie, he has the prettiest eyes you've ever seen.

You hesitate for a moment “Yes, it's my first time here. I've never been really interested in paintings to be honest“ you have no idea why you're saying it, maybe it's his calm demeanor that made your guard down.

“cool, let me show you around!“ the stranger grab your hand and takes you around the gallery. You don't remember the paintings he explained to you, all you remember was his loving gaze to the painting. Makes you wonder, will anyone ever look at you so lovingly?

You don't know why, but your steps keep coming back to the gallery, hoping to find the same stranger. And you did, he was always there, whether just sitting on the bench or looking at the paintings there.

Each day passes, you and the stranger get closer, growing a bond that cannot be explained in words. It's something simple, like the two of you sitting at the bench while he was doodling in a napkin, but you found yourself telling your worries to him.

One day he spoke, “Even the sky gets cloudy sometimes, but it always ends up clear again, right?“.

Maybe some part of you were healing just by talking to him. You found yourself looking forward to the next day, to go to the gallery and talk with the stranger.

Until one day, everything just disappears. It was the same like every other day, you get ready and went to the gallery, except there was no one there. The gallery was closed, and you don't find the stranger around there. That's when it hits you, you never knew the strangers name, nor do you have his contacts.

You turned around and returned home feeling devastated, he was only a stranger, but why do you feel so lost?

You pick up your pen and start writing, it was only random words at first, writing everything that comes to mind. Then you remembered what he once said to you.

“every piece has a story, even the messy one.“ Then you wondered, what is your story?

You write more and more, your hand moving nonstop, turning words into sentences, and something more. You don't think, you just want to remember him through words, to hold onto something.

And little did you know, you had changed.

Days pass, and writing becomes a habit again, you spends your afternoon sitting by the windows of different cafes, just lost in your own world. Your pen moving without hesitation, ink staining your fingertips, like a quick reminder that you're still here, still waiting.

It was just a random afternoon after writing session at your favorite cafe, the winds grew colder. And you found yourself again, back to the art gallery. It was open, you stared at the building for a moment before hesitantly stepping inside.

It was still the same, the cold air brushing your skin, you stare at the painting one by one.

Until your step stop at a huge painting, it was you.

It isn’t just a painting of you—it’s you through his eyes. Your silhouette is bathed in golden hues, as if kissed by sunlight, yet there are shadows carefully placed in the corners, a quiet understanding of the storms you’ve endured. Flowers bloom along the edges, creeping toward your figure, as if nature itself is drawn to you. And then, at the bottom, faint yet unmistakable, is a signature. His.

“I see you've found my favorite painting“

[suempu]

Hiii can I either get a kabru/mithrun x gn! reader who's likes to be femmine it can be nsfw or just fluff.

I'm just curious to see how they will behave with a reader that can be feminine at times, thanks. These boys can't get of my mind!! /affectionate

(Also I'm new here but I'll be anon 🌻!!)

-> welcome !!! i hope you've liked it here so far anon <33 -> kabru and mithrun included. post canon! mithrun. possible ooc. i kept it as fluff only !!!

kabru finds it endearing, some of your mannerisms remind him of his mother with the way you dote on some of the party members. he loves your sense of style and mannerisms, you're level headed and skilled in battle even with your frills and ribbons.

you're mostly seen as someone level headed within the group, sometimes he would seek you out for advice and input whenever he's having a tough time making a decision.

"here." kabru lets out a surprised 'ah' at the flower crown suddenly placed on his hair, you smiling from above him. "you made this?" he gently holds a petal. you hum a soft 'yes' at his flushed state. kabru glances around and sees that you've decorated most of the other member's heads with crowns of their own, kuro sneezing right into mickbell's head after breathing it in. he laughs. "thank you, they're beautiful."

once he realizes that he's actually into you, he has a strong urge to be seen as your protector. something about you has him feeling beautifully masculine— not in a traditional way but he wants to care for you, be there for you, and provide for you. he's entirely devoted.

he wants to hold your face whenever you cry, kiss your scars and cuts right after a battle, and chase away any disgusting bugs for you.

when you two get together, he sometimes finds his things decorated. a baby blue ribbon right on the sheath of his sword, a flower in his satchel, small gifts that you leave and scatter around that makes his heart bloom.

"pots and vases? are you starting a shop?" you stand in the middle of his bedroom, watching him fuss around with their placements. kabru wipes sweat from his brow, breathless from the carrying, "you always bring me flowers, i thought i could put some of them here." you coo, placing a hand on your chest. "aww, really?"

he's the type of lover that would support and actively participate in the things you enjoy, and although frills and lace look anything but pretty on him (his words, not yours) he'll don it with grace if it would make you happy.

<3

elves don't really discriminate towards feminine attributes so he hasn't really minded. he loves your softness, the way you seem to smooth over his rough edges and light up the seemingly meaningless tunnel he's been walking ever since he lost his desires.

mithrun wouldn't be aware of his feelings, he knows he holds a strong sense of familiarity and concern for you, but only after the main story would he be willing to actually dig deep into his heart in order to find an answer.

he's lost a lot of motivation to do certain things he used to enjoy, so he can't help but feel his heart ache whenever your hands card through his hair, delicate fingers treating him as though he is something to be cared for.

you put up his locks in a half braid before donning your work with hairclips embellished with flowers and butterflies. he feels his chest burn, his head hurts as if he's forgetting a vital part of who he is. like a memory he cannot remember.

your eyes meet through the mirror, a hand brushing and smoothing over his head. "do you like it?" holding a proud smile on your face, his skin tingles at where you touch him. tilting his head slightly to the side, he examines your work. "it's pretty."

after bagging the guy in a relationship (lol), he's felt lighter, chest heavier— filled with warm emotions that you've blessed him.

mithrun is... casual. in a way that he's very chill. he'll let you do almost anything to him without question. he accepts whatever you give or show him, making an effort to think well before replying with words and sentiments he thinks you might appreciate or be happy with.

you gift him various ornaments, bracelets, and headpieces. he keeps them tucked away in a small chest near his pillow in the canaries' bunker to safeguard.

he once asked why, mithrun is always on missions, always in battle. why take the time to love someone like him? he feels shame, especially after everything he's done and been through.

his heart has buried his emotional turmoil, his resentment and envy. with the insecurity from his brother's success and him being robbed of the woman he used to love, he has a hard time accepting your affection sometimes.

its hard. progress is slow, especially for long life spanned species such as him to finally grasp his flaws. you take the time to reassure him, supporting his growth with overcoming his deepest fears. and although he's lost a lot, been robbed of what he had, you're the one thing he can't bear to lose.

[prythiansprincess]

What's each boys fav sex position?

— switchin' the positions for you

a slytherin boys headcanon

theo loves cowgirl. there's just something about watching you ride him that drives him insane. eye contact is a must for him. mostly because he knows how flustered you get when his dead eyes lock in on yours, drinking in every inch of your body while you rock your hips and moan his name. he can’t help but admire you as your tits bounce, his large hands cupping them softly, before taking them into his mouth, groaning as he licks and sucks and marks you up. so good bella, just like that. la mia piccola troia perfetta. theo thinks it’s hot when you lose control, smirking and chuckling to himself when your pussy clenches while he speaks dirty, filthy things to you in italian. sometimes he’ll stop midway to eat you out because it’s his nature — theodore nott is a munch through and through. he never gets tired of the taste and if you even dare say that you’re too sensitive, he’ll yank you by the ankles and pry your legs apart because you’re done when he says you’re done. countless orgasms later, he’d return you to your original position, smirking as you straddle him with shaky legs. when you’re too tired to ride, he’d hold your hips in place and fuck into you, coaxing another orgasm even though you swore you couldn’t take any more. theo knows you can. he loves pushing you to your limits. watching you fall apart and cum on his cock is his favorite thing in the world. keep those pretty eyes open, cara mia. I want to watch you cum for me.

mattheo switches between missionary and doggystyle. if you’re being good, he loves taking the lead and doesn’t mind you being a pillow princess. he’d worship and adore you, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear while he hovers over you, that endearing smile tugging at his lips in response to your giggles about his curls tickling your nose. he’d lean down and give you a sweet kiss before making you see god. if you’re being bad, then there’s no mercy in him as he bends you over a bed, a desk, a counter — it doesn’t matter where or when, mattheo will fuck that attitude right out of you and make you wish you’d never acted like such a brat in the first place. he’d spank you until you’re crying, leaving red handprints all over your ass for days to come. he’d be rough and degrading, his fingers bruising your hips as he fucks you from behind. mattheo isn’t fooled by your tears, he knows it’s not out of pain but of pleasure. he’s well aware that you purposely push his buttons to get fucked dumb, so he edges you over and over again until you’re whining and sobbing. mattheo shuts you up by hooking his arm around your neck, his bicep holding you in place as he shakes his head in feigned disappointment. not so brave now, huh princess? where did all the fire go? now you’re begging me to fuck you like the needy little slut that you are. too fucking bad. if you want to cum, you’ll have to work for it, baby.

enzo is the designated big spoon. your cuddles always start off innocent enough, but it’s not long before he’s slipping a hand into your shorts, teasing your clit in tantalizing circles and smirking against your shoulder as you arch against him for more. you’re so wet that it’s almost too easy for him to slip his fingers right in, scissoring and pumping and curling them into that sweet spot that has you seeing stars. pretty soon, you’re pliant and needy, exactly how enzo wants you because it makes it that much easier to slip off your shorts and panties before rubbing himself against your folds. just the tip, honey. let me make you feel good, yeah? you nod, biting your lip. both of you know it’s never just the tip, but it gives you a sick little thrill as enzo fucks you in shallow little thrusts, edging you until you’re teary eyed and begging him to fuck you for real. enzo coos as he licks your tears away. aw, you’re so pretty when you beg, honey. how could I say no? it’s then that enzo finally sinks in, spreading your legs so he can bury himself so much deeper. you’re sobbing from relief, nothing but a blubbering mess as his skilled fingers circle around your swollen clit.

draco is a fan of the classic. missionary is his go to. he used to hate it before he met you because of how vulnerable the act is, but when he looks into your eyes, he knows that you see him for who he truly is — the good, the bad, and the ugly. you see every part of him and you love him through it all. you trust him through it all. you’re taking me so well, darling. such a good girl. he makes sure to reassure you every step of the way, communicating how much he loves and adores you with every action. draco kisses your ankles before yanking you towards him, the backs of your thighs pressed firmly against his chest as his cock kisses your cervix, both of you groaning from how deep he is inside you. his signet ring is cold against your stomach as he marvels at the size difference. can you feel me, princess? i’m so fucking deep. a choked moan is all you can manage before his ring makes it way down to your clit, vibrating against the already sensitive nub while draco worships your body.

tom is a no brainer. this man is a sucker for doggystyle. he loves bending you over and spreading your cheeks before thrusting all the way in, smirking when you gasp at how big he is. watching his cock slip in and out of your pussy as he sets a punishing pace is so satisfying to him. tom is dark and dominant, deliciously possessive as he lays his claim on you. he knows he’s the only one who can make you feel this good. tears streaming down your cheeks, profanities spilling from your lips, and fingers clutching at the sheets as he pounds into you over and over again. tom is relentless, driving you towards the brink and release just to pull you back and repeat the process until you’re so desperate that you’re outright begging. he sneers when you fuck yourself against him, eager to take as much of him as you can. your pussy suctions him in so greedily, the warmth of your walls hugging around his cock like a vice. such a needy little slut. you’re so desperate for my cock, aren’t you? look at you, all stretched out and still asking for more. you’re shameless as you rock against him, moaning when tom spanks your ass, his handprints seared into your skin. tom lets you have your fun, but at some point, he takes the reign again by yanking your hair back, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he stills your movements. you belong to me, doll. I own you — mind, body, and soul. don't you ever fucking forget that.

regulus is a certified freak. he may not look like it, but he’s hiding a basilisk in those trousers. he doesn’t really have a preference of position. this man just loves to fuck. most of the time, the two of you do it while standing because he loves the thrill of getting caught. sex with reggie is risky. he has a huge exhibition kink and definitely gets off on the thought of someone walking in while he’s balls deep in you. there’s been countless times when you’ve ended up fucking at a common room party or at a night out in hogsmeade or even during movie nights with your friends because he just can’t keep his hands off of you. his favorite is when you’re in the restricted section with your legs wrapped around him, skirt pulled up over your waist while he thrusts, making the shelves shake behind you. reg bites his lip as you sink down slowly, his eyes nearly rolling back as he watches his cock disappear between your folds. he’s got one hand around your waist to hold you up and the other against your mouth to keep you from moaning too loud and attracting attention. he also loves dirty talking in french because he knows it gets you so much wetter for him. j'aime quand tu me regardes comme ça, mon amour. the black family heirloom ring kisses the side of your neck as regulus wraps a hand around your throat, tilting your chin as his lips meet yours in a filthy kiss. you’re mine, love. mine and only mine.

[hcdragonwrites]

Rain (a Journey to the Au Drabble)

I wrote another thing! I was touched and inspired by @journey-to-the-au ! I wasn’t expecting to finish it in one sitting but my brain was afire, and I lost track of time so swiftly. I hope you like it and I hope I did your babies justice !

“Another day in paradise.” Earth Reaching Willow spoke the words aloud, soft and sad.

Then why did it feel like another day pressed between the pages of a book? The thought came like a tidal wave to the front of her mind, stirring and shaking Willows mask of serenity just a bit. No colors or sensations, just the barest touch of description was what the South Pole Palace had become to her.

Heaven was peace - but that peace was starting to chafe Earth Reaching Willow sharply. Here she stood, Eldest Daughter to the Jade Emperor along the railing of her favorite bridge in The Garden of Heaven, feeling the softest breeze curl against her cheek. The water beneath her did not stir with the breeze. The koi swimming beneath in their burning colors of gold and orange fire had the grace of clouds, hardly stirring the silt beneath them.

‘Why can’t I be content?’

She knew why. Earth Reaching Willow was able to eloquently pick apart her own thoughts just as she could with any noblemen or Celestial counselor that brought her gifts to bribe her hand.

Knowing peace all of her existence was beginning to feel as if she were repeating the same day over and over. Reading the same passage in a book, viewing the same painting upon her fathers study wall of bobbing cranes and water dragons. The frustration rose in her. But that’s all I can do. I view the things I hear of. Read of them but I, Daughter of Heaven, will never experience them.

She let that grace her father so prided her on slip off of her as she slumped to rest her arms upon the bridge. The same breeze teased her face again and also revealed she had, surprisingly, a loose thread upon her sleeve.

Earth Reaching Willow took the thread in hand and twisted it between her fingers.

The golden royal hues of her gown were pearled in the most intricate of stitches of willow leaves and falling blossoms, reaching downward from her arms to brush against the river that wove itself across the hem of her attire in a frothing and silent roar. Her handmaidens were so scrupulous in their fussing of her that she was surprised they had missed this little thread. She tugged and noticed the thread was connected to a stylized blossom on her wrist in free fall. It was forever stuck in its descent, never moving beyond where it was perched.

“Are you rebelling against the design of your Life, little thread?” Earth Reaching Willow gently asked.

She had been taught and schooled in being the epitome of serenity, in walking with a stillness and grace that other immortals and celestials envied. Willow and her sisters danced with grace, every motion balanced and calculated. That was the true flow of peace- to balance every motion to not disrupt the water around it. All the people of earth craved this peace, this very place that Earth Reaching Willow lived in.

She plucked at the thread. I am but a stitch in Heaven's grand tapestry. Just like this thread I’m bound up and frozen in a state of existing between.

It almost raised Willows emotions above that dam she had built within herself, almost swamping her in the feeling of stasis.

I cannot succumb to that feeling. She would not. Her finger came away from her sleeve with a snap that startled her silence. The thread she had been twisting and worrying at had come free. It waved in the breeze between her fingers.

Earth Reaching Willow let it go, watching as it floated down and shattered the mirror surface of the water. Ripples rolled from its wake, the most movement Willow had ever witnessed here. The carp swam close, investigating this intruder to their watery paradise.

“Be free Little thread. Be free for both of us…”

“Should I be concerned that my bride-to-be is talking to her clothing?” A warm buttery voice called from behind her.

Willow knew this voice.

“You should be more concerned you have yet to greet me this day, Husband-to-be.” Earth Reaching Willow responded, turning. Sun Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven strode forward and took her hand to kiss it.

Of all the heavenly attendants and immortal beings in all the heavens of the worlds she knew, she was glad Wukong was hers. The Monkey King was dressed in his royal regalia, the armor shining bright in the perpetually perfect sunlight. He was dressed to impress. But it wasn’t to impress her.

Willow raised her sleeve to cover her face in mock flustered love, when really she was hiding her silent laughter. She whispered just loud enough for her dear friend to hear but too silent for any eavesdroppers to catch.

“How many are watching?”

Wukong looked up from her hand, hiding his own smile against her wrist.

“Two from beyond the wall and one from a bench beneath the pear blossom tree. I think if you entwine your hand with mine and if we make moon eyes at each other we may satisfy their curiosity.” He had a spark of mischief in his eyes.

“Done.” Earth Reaching Willow dipping her hand to clasp Wukongs fingers, laying her own kiss upon his skin.They pressed their faces close, cheek to cheek.

Playing at being head over heels in love was the most fun Willow had ever had. When Wukong and her and thought up the scheme, she had had her concerns- mainly with the retaliation from the simpering suitors that would be furious that a mere immortal had caught the Princesses attention. There had been protests of course. Then Wukong had declared his intentions, regaling the court with his great deeds and how, if he had to, he would champion himself and outdo all his previous accomplishments in the name of proving he was worthy of the hand of Earth Reaching Willow.

Well that had set the court to a flummoxed and outraged chaos. When Wukong and Willow had gotten away from the courts eyes and ears they had bent over and laughed, tears welling in their eyes. Yes Earth Reaching Willow had had her misgivings. But months down the line Willow loved the game they played. It was the most alive she had felt in all her life. She began to look forward to her days and meetings with Wukong, this handsome monkey who brought life to her she so craved.

After a time of whispering in each others ears (mostly jokes or riddles that would set the other to smiling) Wukong flicked his tail, their silent signal that they were alone.

They stayed close but relaxed truly now, smiles becoming wide and friendly instead of the flirty facade they played for court.

“We should start our own acting troop.” Wukong said, resting his arms over the bridge to gaze out on the garden.

“Oh?” Earth Reaching Willow raised a perfect brow.

“We are both actors of stunning caliber!” He said, tapping his chest with pride. “You keep pace with every act I bring to the table and have even come up with your own! Remember the Banquet of Snow?”

How could she forget? “We danced together so long that my own Father had to interrupt us! Then I fed you from my own plate and you me- I am pretty sure we left them all sick with how in love we had been.”

Wukong laughed. Willow laughed with him. He had that effect with his laughter, so warm and uncontained. The sound broke Heaven's peace in such a way it swept one up with it in a tide of warmth.

An edge of melancholy overcame Earth Reaching Willow then. I want to feel this all the time- this laughter. This light.

“Oh Wukong, I wish you would never leave.” She told him then, staring off into the water. Her thread was gone, either taken by the invisible current or plucked out of the water by some invisible attendant.

The Monkey King turned his head, ears curved forward.

“Now Willow, what has made you so sad?”

She shook her head, eyes cast to the water below.

“Don’t try and hide it from me- I know you too well now. You may be an actor but you can’t fool me. I’m your partner in crime, after all. I’ve seen all your tricks.” He jested, smile playing along his lips

“Oh have you?” Willow asked but her voice lacked the usual playful banter. Her mind had returned to the heavy thoughts of grace and perpetual serenity, of the mantle of sameness and here, with him, she couldn’t hide.

“Willow…” Wukong gently tapped her arm with his hand. “What has dampened your light ? My friend, tell me. There is no one in the Garden. It’s safe here.”

It was the softness with which he spoke that almost broke Willow. He had always been kind to her. She took just a half shuffle to the side, reaching for recomposure. If she stayed in his kindness she would have unleashed that tidal wave battering within her.

It wanted to get out.

She had to keep it in.

She took a breath.

Then another.

“Heaven is … Paradise.” The words came from Earth Reaching Willow softly. Only a bit- only a trickle of that emotion I will let forth. If I let it flow free I’ll loose that peace and I don’t want my Father to catch wind I cried in the Garden. Or to thing it was Wukong who caused it.

“Maybe a little rain or something.” Or anything her heart sang. A bird within a gilded cage.

Now that it was out- now that she had said it, her body felt lighter. A stone cast from her soul. If it had just been her, Willow was concerned she wouldn’t be able to cast off this pallor of sorrow with ease. With Wukong however, his vibrancy drew from her heart the deepest of her well locked up sorrows.

Wukongs hands were suddenly over hers, tugging Willow off and away from the bridge.

“W-Wukong what -“ Earth Reaching Willows voice faltered. Her friends face was brighter than any sunbeam she and her sisters had ever woven, some unknown emotions twinkling in his eyes.

“Come with me Willow-I have something to show you!” He pulled her off the bridge and out the garden, tail tapping in tandem to his bright smile and little laughs. “Come come- out of that stuffy garden with you!”

“Wukong what has taken over you?”

“An idea. A brilliant and stupendous idea! But it is a surprise so you must close your eyes!” He peered right into her face, mockingly stern. “No peeking! It will ruin the effect!”

Willow snorted, being swept up again in his golden glow of emotion. He is quite adorable.

“Alright alright ! I will cover my eyes!” Willow lifted her hands, covering her eyes from view. The smile dancing on her lips couldn’t be washed away by the tide of sorrow within her. Not when this burning bright flame of a person was with her.

“Wukong…”

“Not yet!”

“Wukong how much longer?”

“Not much farther! Just — oop watch your step here!”

It had been a short flight to this mysterious place Wukong had taken Willow and she couldn’t help the electrical feel of excitement ripple up her spine. Any other being covering her eyes would give Earth Reaching Willow pause. Wukong however ? This was her sweet monkey, the kind soul that had seen her trapped between unhappy marriage options and had come in to give her an escape.

She trusted him just as he had trusted her with his past, with who he was.

Wukong stopped.

“Alright Willow- let me cover your eyes now that I have you on a safe spot.”

“Don’t want me to wander off a cliff dear husband-to-be ?”

“I would be a terrible husband if I let my wife-to-be walk her way off a cliff. The Emperor would have a new monkey rug to enjoy.”

She laughed, smiling against his palms.

“You could never be turned into a rug my dear.”

“You are right- however my own mothers would make me one in his stead.” The laughter slowly faded and Willow felt Wukong lean forward from behind. He was warm against her back, the breath against the shell of her ear making her ticklish.

“Are you ready?” He asked. She couldn’t help the spark that set off in her limbs. Surprises in Heaven were always of the placibile kind. A new set of moon needles to sew with, a gown woven from the beard of a water dragon, a parasol that changed decorations by the phases of the sun- all orderly gifts expected to be given to a princess.

Wukong however was not of the Heavenly court. His gifts had never been of the ‘appropriate’ kind that those stiff backed men had presented to Willow.

“Yes.” Her breath came quickly now.

“Alright…” the Monkey King removed his hands from her face. “Open them.”

Earth Reaching Willow did.

And lost her breath.

She and Wukong were standing upon the edge of a mountain cliff, facing out to something Willow had only seen once before. The ocean sparkled and flashed beneath the warm amber sun that was beginning to set in its sea. Like scales upon a dragons skin, the ocean moved as if breathing, basking in the buttery glow of the sun. Colors came alive in the twist of the mountains beside them- upon the leaves of the trees as they refracted the sunlight. Something was rising from within her, a rush of feeling. What could it be? It was as if she had drunk too much heavenly wine, a headrush so clear and bright and so unlike the muddling effects of wine. Willow opened her mouth, to speak to gasp to thank, she didn’t know. She didn’t get a chance.

A great cloud of gray swept over one of the mountains, close enough to see its plumes of ink dark but not in the way of its storm path. Great sheets of water streamed down beneath its mass, diamond drops of water glowing like honey in the sunset. The sound! Her ears, if they could move, would have swiveled to catch it. A great Crescendo of sound, sweeter than chimes and deeper than flutes, fell with the rain. It made sound out of the colors and things before her, falling on that great oceans back, painting the mountain dark, and scenting the air with such a perfume as to be heady and intoxicating. It made her heart race, her blood feel afire. Willow took a half step forward.

“Careful love.” Wukong caught her arm, gently stopping her from getting too close to the edge. Willow turned to him and Wukong gasped. Her monkey reached up and wiped away something that was spilling from her face. A tear. She had been crying?

“Wukong …” she heard the emotion in her voice, that swelling water within her threatening to come up and drown her words.

“We call it a sun shower.” Sun Wukong replied, gesturing to the magnificence before them. “Do you like it ?”

The dam within Willow broke then. Her smile became as wide and bright as to rival the sunset before Wukong. She laughed, throwing back her head in a way he had never seen before.

“Like ? Like ? Like does not even begin to brush upon the - this - this feeling. It’s-“ How to describe this thunder within her body? Willow was eloquent and well versed in poetry. But all the poetry of the broad heavens and the words in all the languages known and unknown failed to compare what this gave to her. She could only laugh, only cry and only smile. “I Love this…”

Suddenly Earth Reaching Willow was vibrating with a radiance The Sage had only caught in glimpses when he had disarmed her within the court with his charm or wits. Wukong felt a glow of pride and love wash over him, seeing her in a way no one else had.

Earth Reaching Willow was finally alive in a way she had never been in all her eternity within Heaven's own Garden. Rain and sun, sea and sky had freed her and, if Wukong had anything to say about it, he would give her this every day for the rest of their existence together.

Earth Reaching Willow was for the earth after all. She was finally Home.

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ The radio star lost ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : Your husband was the feared serial criminal in New Orleans, Louisiana, and you where his dearly beloved wife, his right hand. So.. Oh what a despair was awaiting you soon..

Pairing : Human! Alastor x Wife! Reader

Word count : 3549 Words

Genre : Angst, Drama, Romance (a bit)

Warnings ➵ Murder, Swearing, Blood, Death, Guns,

Death penality, Corpses

a/n : Continuation of my Alastor x Wife! Reader > Till death do us part < , seeing as this isn't really a continuation, but rather a prequel, it can be read as a stand-alone, hope ya'll still enjoy it just as much as the first part!♡

Another thing in advance, this is purely fiction and shall not be seen anywhere near reality, I do not condone anything in this and it's pureply based on fiction.

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

1933'

You were like Bonnie and Clyde. A criminal duo, invincible. Or so you thought.

Alastor, your beloved husband. The man you had known for almost two decades, married for almost one decade now. You loved him dearly, even with his little quirks and tendencies. He worked as a well-known and quite popular radio host in New Orleans. Yet he had a tendency for disposing of those he deemed right, you had helped him many times already. Having found out way before you even married him, how he was a murderer, yet you found it enticing, how his mind worked, who he deemed worthy to let go.

"Dear, the meal is almost ready!" You got pulled out of your thoughts by the soft voice of your husband. It was rather unusual for the man to cook in a marriage, but your relationship was far from ordinary, so you enjoyed it. His cooking was far better than yours after all. "I'm coming!" Standing up from the couch, you make your way over to the kitchen, there he was in all his glory. His brown hair was pushed back, glasses sitting on top of his head instead of resting on his nose, and sleeves pushed up to not get them dirty, ironic considering the amount of times he got them bloody. "It smells amazing my beloved! Thank you so much!" A quick peck was pressed to your husband's cheek, as you took a seat at the table, some amazing meal steaming on the table. Alastor puts his apron away, sitting down as he slides his glasses back onto his nose.

Dinner time was always one of your favorites during the day, enjoying a warm meal while talking to your husband about both of your days.

Just after you had finished dinner, your husband took a seat in front of the piano, letting his hands softly glide over the tiles. The instrument echoed with the soft tune he was playing. Walking behind him, you lay your arms around his neck softly, swaying your body a bit to the music he played. Alastor was a talented man with instruments, being able to play a few of them, the piano being one of them. Also quite talented with the violin. "Oh my darling, what a beautiful tune as always~" Humming along now. No one heard the screams coming from the basement. The desperate screams of your next victim.

"When we're talking about music right now my dearest, Mimzy invited us to her performance tomorrow! So how about we postpone our.. plans to the day after tomorrow?" No killing and instead going to Mimzy's show? Oh yes! "Oh, how lovely that sounds! Of course!" Agreeing to his proposal. But for now, you two get ready for bed, lying down in your shared bed.

Another one of your favorite times of the day, getting to lay down with him and finally rest, letting the stress and exhaustion of the day pass. "Did I ever tell you that I love you a lot?" Resting your head on your husband's chest now, who was silently reading a book, closing it now that you were talking to him. "Many times darling and I do love you a lot too~" Alastor knew his way around words for sure, he was such a sweet talker, but that's one of the things you appreciated about him. Raising your head to face him, you take a glance at his lips, before up into his eyes, you knew how he felt about touches he didn't initiate, right now you were only cuddling because he pulled you onto him. Chuckling lowly, he lowers his head down and captures your soft lips with his. Alastor's kisses mostly were soft, like a butterfly resting on your hand or like a spring breeze. Usually, his kisses were planted on your hand or cheek, but from now and then he gave you the satisfaction of a soft kiss on the lips, which always left you giggling like you were right now. Falling asleep in the safe embrace of your husband shortly after.

The next day went by smoothly. Alastor was busy with his work as a radio host, while you took care of the house and did some grocery shopping, meeting up with a few friends of yours over tea. Shortly before you went home for the day, you visited Alastors mothers grave to leave some flowers and clean it, you sadly never met her, but your husband tends to tell you a lot of stories about her. Sitting down by the grave for a minute, you tell her a bit about what Alastor has been doing, how you were loving his cooking and music as always. It was a habit of yours, you hoped she was listening to all the good things you were telling her about him. Taking your things after a while, you bid your goodbye to his mother's grave as you make your way back home. Putting away the groceries before starting to freshen up. Loving to take your time to get ready when you and Alastor decide to go out in the evening.

"Dearest I'm home!" Hearing the lovely voice of your husband calling from the door, answering him now, how you were getting ready. Putting on your favorite dress. It was made out of a beautiful deep red color with black lace all over it, a few gems here and there. Your best jewelry could of course not be missing, most of it you got from Alastor or your own mother. "Darling I'm ready! How far are you?" Exiting the bathroom now, searching for your husband and finding him in the kitchen with a glass of whisky. "Oh my, what do I see here? What a lovely gem you are darling!" Abandoning his glass, Alastor walks over to you, taking your hand as he twirls you around, before kissing the back of your hand. Clad in a black suit, his button-up shirt underneath dark red matching to your dress, while his bowtie was adorned with a red gem, he looked lovely. "My you also look lovely dearest! Definitely going to catch some eyes!" Hooking your arm in his now, you together leave the house and make your way to where Mimzy's show will be held.

Mimzy was a great friend of Alastor, a blonde gorgeous but short lady, who performed like no other. Arriving at the place, you were led to a table for the regulars, as Alastor and you were known by the staff by now. Ordering two drinks, as you await the show. Soon lights go out and Mimzy comes out, her singing and dancing amazing like always.

"Dollface! Pumpkin!" Mimzy's voice was booming as she approached your table, giving both of you an affectionate hug. You ended up talking with her for quite a while, telling her how amazing her performance was and that you were so glad that she invited you two again. Thanking you for your kind words, her attention quickly diverted to Alastor again. It was almost always like this, she said she liked both of you, but you couldn't shake the feeling that she did have a certain distaste for you. But you decided to let it slide like always, as you listened to Alastor tell Mimzy what you two were up to since you've last seen her.

Alastor of course started to notice how you were getting irritated by Mimzy and how she was only focusing on him. "My dear, I think my lovely wife is not feeling so well tonight, perhaps it would be better to take our leave now, still thank you for having us as always. Till the next time." Alastor stood up now as Mimzy stomped off with an annoyed face, extending his hand for you. Smiling at him softly as you take his hand and let him lead you outside. A shiver ran down your spine as your arms got goosebumps, a coat was soon placed over your shoulders, looking over to Alastor who watched you with a soft smile. "Dear, next time you feel uncomfortable please do tell me and we will leave immediately, you know how much I care for your comfort." Thanking him, you take his arm as he leads you through the park to your home, it was a little longer than walking through the streets, but it was calming to walk through nature together.

"Shall we head to bed? It's been a long day and evening." Taking the coat from your shoulders at home, he hangs it on the hanger beside the door. "I love that idea, let me tell you about my day in bed, I visited your mothers grave again." You were already walking to the room as you talked to him, so you weren't able to see his eyes follow you as they softened. It saddened him you never got to meet his mother, she would've loved you dearly, just as he does. Telling him all about what you told her before, how you left flowers and also cleaned her gravestone, as you settled into bed, as he was changing into his sleepwear. Alastor was so thankful for having a caring and lovely wife like you.

The night went by fast, today Alastor would finally have a day off from work, which meant a different kind of work today for both of you!

The steps down to the basement squeaked as Alastor put his weight on them, your heels making clicky noises as you followed him down a stark contrast in sound. And there sat the victim he deemed perfect for his next case. The screams would be recorded for his personal little collection. You were getting everything ready for him, it would be interesting to watch like always. Alastor changed so much when he killed, no shimmer or glimmer in his eyes, not how he looked at you, the soft gaze replaced with a blood thirsty one. Liking it quickly, you were soon getting rid of the victim, this time deciding to bury him in a forest, you opted for the forest a few times already even though it was a bit risky, it was the easiest to get rid of them. At home, Alastor decided to take a bath, as he told you to head to bed already with a kiss on your cheek.

When he joined you in bed, he looked relaxed, cuddling up to you. Murders always ended like this, it somehow made him so calm and affectionate with you. Placing a soft kiss on your neck, as his arms hold your waist. Your hand threaded through his brown soft locks, something you loved to do. For once your beloved husband fell asleep quicker than you, making you be able to watch him sleep, not in a creepy way, but in a loving way. Alastor was often so stressed with work, yes he loved being a radio host, but it sometimes got to him. Rubbing your fingers over his cheek softly, then over the bags under his eyes before pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. Yourself slowly falling into dreamland.

Morning came way too quickly, Alastor was back to work, and while you decided to stay at home and do some housekeeping, a few rooms needed cleaning. A friend of yours stopping by to tell you how a new corpse was apparently discovered by the police, which is connected to the many murder cases lately. Tensing up a little bit when she told you how they discovered it in the forest after one of the farmers nearby saw some shadows in there. It couldn't be the corpse from last night, right? Simply agreeing with her that you would be careful, even telling her how your dear husband would never let something happen to you on his watch, which made her coo at your marriage, if only she knew..

Mid conversation your husband comes home, greeting you with a soft kiss on the cheek before he leaves for the back of your home. Your friend leaves soon after, as you go and search for your beloved. Finding him in his office, gripping the table. You knew what was about to come.

"Dear?" Approaching him, Alastor pushes everything on his table off, papers scattering, a cup breaking as pens roll all over the floor. "They already discovered it.. HOW?! I was careful! Pathetic! How dare they! Are they making fun of me?!" Worried for your husband, yet you stood still, listening to him. "I had to talk about it today! At the broadcast! Act as if I was surprised! Haha! If only they knew! Right doll?!" Turning around, his eyes were darting around the room, before falling onto you, laughing as he took your hand to pull you in. "They really think they can discover us like this! US! They are worthless! Pathetic even! Oh my dear! We truly are the greatest!" He was twirling you around as if dancing now, despite no music playing. Only his mad monologue. You've dealt with this behavior a couple of times already, knowing to just let him act and talk for now as he pleased. "Oh, what a wonderful day my beloved! I will go and make my favorite dish for us now! How beautiful!" Leaving the room now, a skip in his step, as you bend down to clean up the mess your husband caused.

Joining him in the kitchen now, as he was softly humming to the radio as he was cooking his favorite, Jambalaya.

A knocking sounds from your door, looking up, you tell Alastor you are going to get it, and upon opening it you come face to face with a detective and a police officer. "Greetings ma'am, is your husband home?" His voice was deep, you nodded, leaning the door closed as you hurried into the kitchen to get your husband. "Greetings gentleman, how may I help you?" Alastor opened the door composed as ever, drying his hands from washing them with a clean towel, as he gave the men at the door a polite smile. You retreated back to the living room, still listening to their conversation. Asking him about the murder cases, why him? It was probably only because of the radio broadcast, right? Maybe his boss told him to talk about it without the detective's permission. As the door closes and Alastor is back in the kitchen, still calm as always as you join him. "Dear? What did they talk about?" Looking up at him with worry written all over your face, he turns to you. "Don't worry your pretty little head dearest, it was nothing to be mentioned! Smile dear, you know you're never fully dressed without one!" Pushing the corners of your mouth up with his fingers now, making you smile, before shushing you out of the kitchen so he can cook. Not able to help it but worry, were you about to be figured out?

But over the course of the next few days it all calmed down again, no more police officers or detectives visiting you, which finally calmed your mind. Alastor meanwhile had found a new target, telling you about this man he met the other day and what bothered him. It was all back to normal now, which you were glad about. Till this one dreadful day.

Alastor and you made quick work of the man, your husband telling you to stay home this time to clean up and that he would take care of this on his own. You worried again, but he assured you that he would be quick, after cleaning up and getting rid of any evidence, you cleaned yourself and sat down to wait for your beloved. Yet after hours of not coming back, you grew anxious, desperate even to know what took him so long. As a knock echoes through your house, you rush to the door, opening it ready to scold your husband for taking so long, but your breath stops when a detective stands in front of you.. What happened?

He asked to enter your home, sitting you down on the couch as he took a seat opposite of you on the armchair. "Your husband got shot ma'am, he was burying a corpse, we assume him to be the serial killer at fault for so many murders lately. He passed away instantly, I'm sorry for your loss and to bring you this horrific and murderous news." Your ears were ringing. Huh? Shot? Was that man joking with you? Was he someone Alastor paid to prank you? No, he wasn't the type for these kinds of pranks. Tears were streaming down your face, burying it in your hands now, sobs shaking your whole body. If that stupid man just knew, knew how you helped your husband with everything! Stupid! "Ma'am I-" The detective started, when you darted up, grabbing the man by his hair and throwing him out of your house. "Get lost! Never show up again! Leave.. NOW!" Slamming the door shut now, he probably took this as a shock to knowing who your husband really was, but you knew that already for years. Sinking to your knees, your arms hug around you as your head hits the floor, screams and cries of agony echo through the now empty halls. Your husband, the man you loved so much was dead, just like this? What sick nightmare was this? Cries reduced to soft sobs when your throat started to hurt, by now your body was curled up into itself on the floor and like that, you fell asleep.

The next day you awoke to the sunlight, your body sore from crying and sleeping on the floor, looking around for a second, for Alastor before it doomed on you, he was dead. Shot like an animal.

Your mother accompanied you to identify your late husband, you of course clad in all black. His forehead is now adorned with a hole, the detective explaining to you that he was mistaken for a deer. Asking for some privacy from everyone, you were left alone in the room. If it wasn't for that damned hole he looked like he was simply sleeping, peacefully like the night before. Leaning down to press one last kiss to his temple. "I will always love you my dearest, for now and forever, till I join you in death."

Leaving the room, you didn't dare look back, you were going forward from now on, knowing that someday you would meet him again.

Your mother had offered for you to move back in with her, but you told her despite what he did, he was a lovely husband to you and that you weren't able to yet let go, which she understood. Back at your home, you sat down and just stared at the wall. Why did this have to happen? You could be cuddling together right now or enjoying a meal, but that would never be the case ever again. But you told yourself, swore yourself with that last kiss to his temple that you would carry on in his memory. And so you did, three more murders continued after your husband was dead, till you were discovered.

In front of the law, you were sentenced to the death due to having caused three murders yourself and helped with multiple, carried out by your late husband. You accepted it, not that anyone asked, but you would be seeing your husband again, at least you hoped you would. A few days later after the case was closed and you were sentenced, it happened.

1935'

"Alastor! Dearest! Charlie told me you wanted to see me?" Entering the radio tower with a bright smile, Alastor turned to you with his signature smile. "My beloved! You look lovely as always! Look at you, aren't you a little gem!" He was walking over to you, his red ears on his head bouncing slightly with each step he took. Closing your eyes now as he told you to do so, a sensation of something cold around your neck running through your body now. "Open up doll!" Opening your eyes and looking down, your eyes tear up. It was a necklace, that looked similar to one he gifted you on the first anniversary of your marriage. "Alastor.." Looking up at him, as a few tears escaped your eyes.

"Now now sweetheart, we don't want you crying hm? Smile dear! You know you're never fully dressed without one!" Giggling a little bit at that quote, he had used it so often when you two were alive. Not being able to help yourself, you throw your arms around his neck and pepper kisses all around his face and lastly a big kiss on his lips, you would be apologizing for suddenly kissing him later, but right now you just needed to kiss him. "I'm glad you love it dearest!" His arms are around your waist now as he laughs at the tickling kisses placed on his face, starting to spin you around as with a snip of his fingers music starts to play.

Charlie and Vaggie watch the soft moment from the door, tears streaming from the blonde's face as her girlfriend pulls her away to give you two some privacy.

[moonstruckme]

Hey Mae, you wrote a Spencer smut blurb a while ago about him helping reader speak up in the bedroom and at the end it mentions him using his handcuffs on reader. Just wondering if you would write a followup to that heheh 🌚

Thank you for requesting babe ;)

cw: smut mdni, bondage, slighttttt dom spencer but not really it's a collaborative effort haha

Spencer Reid x afab!reader ♡ 652 words

You make an involuntary whimpering sound. 

Spencer lifts his head to look at you. “You okay?” 

“Y…yeah.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Very sure.” 

Your boyfriend’s look softens. “Okay. Try not to sound so distressed, please? It makes me think you’re not having fun.” 

“Sorry.” You want to tell him that you’re not having fun, but you are, really. The bite of metal into your wrists is a welcome, if frustrating, restraint. 

“You don’t have to be sorry, sweetheart,” Spencer assures you, voice turning slow as he lowers his lips back to your shoulder. The brush of his knuckles against your inner thigh is enough to make another whimper rise in your throat. 

The handcuffs were your idea. You don’t think bringing work into the bedroom would have ever crossed Spencer’s mind, but your stomach had flipped excitedly when he’d locked them over your wrists. He was careful not to make them too tight, told you to say something if they started to rub your skin wrong, but you sort of enjoy the pressure of them each time you tug against the bed frame. 

Spencer’s curiosity is just as fervid in the bedroom as it is out. He takes his time with you, cataloguing each movement and sound. Your breath hitches, and he tilts his head, an academic. Scientific fingers explore every curve and bend. 

You’re seeping arousal from between your folds before he even gets there. 

“Spence,” you plead.

“Hm?” 

“Can you just—” You can’t say it. You know Spencer appreciates plain language, but you can’t make yourself. You push your hips up, hoping he gets the hint. 

He does. He smiles, the asshole. “Can you be patient? I’m getting there.” 

“Today?” 

“Okay, fine.” Spencer laughs as he pushes two fingers into you, their path slick and easy. You gasp in surprise. “Is this what you want?” 

“Please.” 

“I told you I was getting to it.” His voice gentles. He touches his lips to the side of your throat, fingers moving slowly in and out of you. Curling. Gently, so gently. “You know you do better when we build up to it.” 

You almost miss the days when Spencer was still shy around you. When sex made him nervous, when he didn’t know your body quite so well or feel so confident in how to make you tick. 

He’s right, of course. 

“I’m—ahh…”

“Yeah, I know.” Spencer kisses the flat of your chest. Doubtless feeling your erratic heartbeat. “You never like it when it’s happening, but you’re happy afterward. You’ll thank me.” 

It’s not violent, your undoing; Spencer takes you apart gently, with careful fingers, and then swallows the cry that escapes you like it’s his favorite flavor. 

Your wrists are lined with agitated circlets when he pushes into you. You’re well worked open by then. Time is lost to you. You gasp and roll your hips, desperate to grab him, your fists curling around nothing. 

“Hey.” Spencer’s thumb presses over your pulse, a barrier between you and the cuff. “Relax. Be careful with yourself.” 

His lips are parted, pupils blown but eyes soft with concern. You love him. It’s not the first time you’ve thought it, it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve said it, but suddenly you feel it achingly, urgently, tearily. You love him you love him you love him. 

“Come here,” you beg him in as nice a voice as you can. 

Spencer listens, because he always listens to you, really, even when you’re all tied up and helpless and probably a little delirious. His mouth covers yours with reassuring warmth. 

“Still okay?” he asks, just to be sure. 

“Yes.” You press towards him, kissing his chin, his jaw, his sweaty cupid’s bow. “Oh my god, yes.” 

“Okay.” Spencer links his fingers through yours. Pushing you back, but staying close to you. You shudder at the contact. “We’re okay.” 

“Just stay here, please.” 

“Where do you think I would go?” 

[monstacheol]

𝓓𝓪𝓭𝓭𝔂'𝓼 𝓗𝓸𝓶𝓮

❀Pairing: C.SC x afab! reader

❀Summary: When your husband goes on a two-week business trip, you are left alone in the comfort of your shared home until your heat hit unexpectedly. With Cheol away, you have to break this heat soon before he comes back. Turns out….he came back sooner than you thought.

❀WC: 4.3K (Originally supposed to be 2K words but I wrote too much.)

❀Warning: Dom! Alpha Seungcheol, Sub! Omega Reader, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe everyone), mild dirty talk, breeding, mention of a baby, pet name: (y/n): baby, princess, sweet girl; Cheol: cheol, daddy( a few time) (I'm missing out a lot. Let me know and I'll add more.)

❀Taglist: @kyeomiis @onlywonwoorideul @scoupsieee @jimintopiaaaa @gyuguys @rissepuffs04 @yawnozone

❀Notes: It has been a while since I wrote smut, especially an omegaverse one, so I don't know if this is good. I worked hard on it the best I could. Please bear with me. I am rusty and my writing style has changed. It is also proofread and edited. I edited it the best I could. So if there is any minor grammar error, I'm so sorry. If this is any good, I'll write the next prompt I had in mind. One of two or three that I have before school starts for me. So I hope you enjoy it and if it's awful (I think it is but that's my opinion because I was stressing about it for weeks), I'm so sorry and I hope to improve soon. Please comment, like, reblog for support.

You were curled up on the bed, panting, hot, and wearing nothing but your husband's t-shirt and your fingers stuffed inside as you were surrounded by your husband's clothes in your lovely nest. Your mind was lost in a daze as you could smell his scent flowing around you, leading you to fuck yourself in bliss. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten as you imagined his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, and his breath on your skin. You moan softly, feeling the intensity building up inside you. The fantasy of him being there with you pushed you over the edge, bringing you to a shuddering climax that left you breathless. But you didn't stop. You couldn't stop. You kept pumping yourself, imagining how he would do it.

How did we come to get to this point? How did this even happen? Well…

"Two weeks," you question.

Your husband nods his head as he adds, "Yes, two weeks."

A two-week business trip alone here in your home. You knew that your husband would be taking an upcoming business trip, but you didn't know it would be this long. You anticipated a few days at most, not the entire two weeks. The thought of being alone in the house for that long makes you feel a bit anxious and lonely as you pout.

"I know that look. You're pouting," Seungcheol said with a teasing smile.

In denial, you softly argue, "I'm not pouting; I'm just... not used to you being away for so long," you reply, trying to mask your disappointment. Seungcheol chuckles, knowing how much you will miss him. He then wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close. As I breathed in his scent of cherry and sandalwood, "It will be alright. I promise to call you every day and make it up to you when I get back," he reassured you, kissing your forehead.

You knew he was right, but what to do in a house by yourself? You and your husband have always been together. You were first college sweethearts, meeting each other through a mutual friend. Then, the moment you both graduated, he gave the sweetest proposal, and you've been inseparable ever since. But after three years of marriage, this will be the longest he has ever been away. You can't help but feel anxious about being apart for so long, but you have to make the most of it. Maybe you can hang out with your friends more often, or take Kkuma to that park she likes to go to. Perhaps you can finally finish that project you've been putting off. The possibilities are endless. He finished packing his luggage for this journey, and after he was done, you both walked to the door. You could hear tiny steps coming behind you as Kkuma followed closely. You both stopped at the entrance doorway as Kkuma sat there below your feet, looking up with those big eyes. Your husband kneeled down to pet her and show her lots of affection.

"Kkuma. Be a good girl, princess, while Daddy is away. Make sure to look out and take care of Mommy," Seungcheol cooed as he ruffled her hair, trying not to ruin the cute pink bow he placed on her head. He stood up from his kneeling position, and he turned to you, still pouting.

"You promise to call," you assert, looking up at him. Seungcheol smiled down at you, his eyes filled with love and reassurance. "Of course, I promise," he replied before kissing you.

"Don't worry, I will be back before you know it," Seungcheol assured you with a smile, grabbing your face and pecking your lips.

That was nine days ago. And now, here you are, sitting on your shared bed, surrounded by his clothes. In heat. Trying to relieve yourself before your husband returns. The first day without him was fine. You got your daily message from him, telling you how he misses you and sending you pictures, and you always responded. You even get to spend time with your friends. The second day went without a hitch as well. Then the third, then the fourth. But on the fifth day, you felt off. You sensed that something wasn't right. You felt tired. You didn't feel like yourself. You care less about eating or drinking and more about just lying down and resting. You tried to shake off the feeling, but it persisted. It was then that you realized that, you were about to go in heat. You didn't think it would happen so soon and on the day that your husband was gone. You gasp as your fingers pump inside you vigorously, the pleasure building as you give in to your body's desires. You came so many times, leaving the bed and your panties soaked with your release, but it wasn't enough. You need more. You crave for him. You need his touch. You need him.

"Cheolie," you whimper.

"Y/N," you heard.

You froze as you heard the voice you didn't expect to hear. You look up to see your husband staring there, wearing only casual clothes with a surprise on his face.

"C-Cheol. "W-What are you?"

"You're in heat, aren't you?" Seuncheol asked.

You didn't say anything, but your silence said it all for him. "My poor baby," he said as he stepped closer to you. He climbed into the bed toward you, his hand reaching out to gently touch your face.

"Left alone, all hot and bothered. Missing your Alpha so much that you made a nest out of all of his clothes. So much that you have to finger yourself just to feel a little relief. It must hurt, doesn't it?" Seungcheol said as his hand brushed through your hair.

Tears trickled down your cheeks as you nodded. "It hurts so much, Daddy," you said as you reached out, clutching his shirt. "P-Please," you begged.

Seungcheol shushed you gently, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. "It's okay, baby girl. I'm here now, baby. Daddy's home. Daddy will take care of you," he whispered soothingly, kissing your head.

You buried your face in his chest, inhaling his scent, making your head spin. He pulled away to drape kisses across your face until they finally landed on your soft lips. You melted into the kiss as it became passionate and intense, completely losing yourself in the moment. You wrap your arm around him as he deepens the kiss, laying you down on the bed. The kiss became electrifying. His hands traced the curves of your body, causing you to gasp in pleasure, allowing his tongue to explore every inch of your mouth. His lips then traveled from your jaw to your neck. You couldn't help but lose yourself in the passion of his touch.

"My sweet girl," Seungcheol murmurs into your neck as he inhales your scent. Your sweet scent of (whatever scent you want it to be). He groans softly, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You were going crazy. Him. His touch. His scent was intoxicating. It was enough to make you go wild. You never wanted it to end.

"I've missed you so much," he murmurs, his voice filled with longing. His lips attacked your neck, kissing, biting, and sucking, which you were certain would leave a mark. You uttered a soft gasp, feeling a rush of desire and anticipation coursing through your body. His hands gripped your waist tightly, pulling you even more.

"Miss you so much that I came back early to surprise my darling wife, and what do I see? You in heat, wearing my shirt, fingers inside that pretty pussy of yours, smelling so irresistible." He presses his lips against your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down your collarbone. He grabs h̶i̶s̶ your shirt, pulling it over your head, revealing your naked body underneath, just for him. "It's enough to send me into a rut," he whispers huskily.

His words made your pussy clench. God, do you need him? You reach out for him, grabbing his shirt. "Cheollie. Your shirt," you whine.

Seungcheol faintly chuckles. "What? What do you want?" he teasingly asks. You grab his shirt and pull on it. "I want it off," you whisper, your voice filled with desire.

Seungcheol obliged, removing his shirt and throwing the piece of clothing on the floor, not caring where it landed, revealing his well-toned chest and toned abs. Was this man gorgeous or what? You couldn't resist running your hands over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin.

"Like what you see, baby?" Seungcheol asked with a smirk, his eyes full of mischief.

You nodded eagerly, unable to tear your gaze away from him as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours, and you couldn't resist kissing him back. The kiss deepened.

His large hands cup your breasts, massaging them with care, and then he leans down to attach his lips to one of your nipples as he toys with the other. You arch your back in response, a soft moan escaping your lips as his touch sends shivers down your spine. He continues to suck and bite your sensitive flesh, making you squirm with pleasure as he repeats it to others.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him close and feeling his cock pressing against the front of his pants, hard and ready for you. You gasped as you felt the fiction of him grinding against you. "Cheol," you whimper.

He looked up at you with a smirk. "Patient baby," he whispered before teasefully biting your nipple. You pouted. You want more. You need his lips. You need more. You need to feel him inside you. He releases your swollen nipple with a 'pop' before trailing kisses down your stomach to the waistband of your panties. You knew you were going to get exactly what you wanted. He hooked his finger on the waistband of your panties, pulling down slowly until they were completely off, revealing your wet core. You could hear a sudden, small curse fall from his lips as he saw how wet you were.

"Baby, you're dripping so much," Seungcheol murmured. You gasped as his fingers traced the outer edges of your folds. "How many times did you cum?" he whispered, his voice husky with desire. You felt a surge of arousal at his words, your body responding eagerly to his touch. "So many," you admitted breathlessly.

Seungcheol softly chuckled at your cuteness. He lightly blew on your wet heat, causing you to shiver and whine. He then grabbed your thighs to place them on his shoulder, placing kisses along your inner thighs and making you shiver with anticipation. "Then allow me to make you cum some more," he whispered seductively as he trailed his lips up towards your core.

His tongue dips between your slick folds, eliciting a moan from your lips. "You taste so sweet," he growled before diving back in with fervor. The intensity of his actions sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making you arch your back in ecstasy. His tongue traced from your dripping hole to your clit, as he sucked on the sensitive bud, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. Your hands grip his hair as he continues to expertly work his magic. "Please don't stop," you beg, desperate to reach the peak of ecstasy.

"Feels good," he murmurs. "So good," you whisper, feeling the tension building within you. He groaned against your core, the vibrations adding to the overwhelming sensation. If there's one thing that Seungcheol loves the most, it's pleasing you until you're a quivering mess of pleasure and desire. He could eat you all day if you let him. The way he makes you feel is unlike anything you've ever felt before, and you never want it to end. Seungcheol's skilled tongue continued to work its magic; you could hear the knot in your stomach tighten. You were close.

"I'm close," you gasp, your body trembling with anticipation as he brings you to the brink of release. He muttered, not even letting up, "Let go, baby."

His voice was low and husky, and his words sent a shiver down your spine as you finally let go, the intensity of your release washing over you in waves of pleasure. Seungcheol continued to please you, drinking everything you had to offer, his skilled tongue never faltering in its movements. As you came down from your high, he leaned up to your lips to kiss you, tasting yourself on his tongue. He pulled away for a moment to pull on the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, revealing his hard, throbbing length. Your mouth watered as he wrapped his hand around his cock and slowly stroked it. "You want it?" he asked, his voice husky.

You nod eagerly. "Beg for it," Seungcheol growls.

"P-please. Cheol," you begged, your voice filled with need and desperation.

"Please, what?" he titillated, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "Please put it in, Daddy. I want to feel you. I want you inside me so bad. I want you to knot me up. I want you to fill me up completely with your cum," you whimpered. Your body ached for his touch, aching to be filled with pleasure.

"You want Alpha to cum inside? Want me to fill you up? Give you my knot. Fill you up so deep with cum until you are swollen with my babies? You want that, don't you?" He whispered seductively, his voice low and husky. You nodded eagerly. Just the thought of him breeding you and filling you with his cum just sent shivers down your spine. You want it so badly right now.

"Please, Alpha," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. The anticipation of feeling him inside you was almost unbearable. "What a good girl, asking so politely," he compliments.

His hands roamed over your body, teasing and tantalizing you as he positioned himself between your legs. With a smirk, he leaned in close and whispered, "I'll give you everything you want, my sweet Omega."

With a low growl, he slowly pushed inside you, making you gasp and arch your back in pleasure. He groans as the feel of your tightness envelopes him. "Fuck, you're so tight, princess," he murmurs.

As he began to move in a slow and steady rhythm, you felt every inch of him pulsating within you, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. The sight below Seungcheol was so mesmerizing. Just seeing you writhing beneath him, your eyes fluttering and your lips parting in silent ecstasy, was enough to drive him wild with desire.

With each thrust, he could feel your body responding eagerly to his touch, igniting a fire within him that only grew stronger with each passing moment. His thrust began to pick up speed as your moans grew louder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room with an intoxicating rhythm. "Alpha," you moan. Your voice is filled with desire and need. You are in ecstasy right now.

Seungcheol's name on your lips only fueled his passion further, pushing him to give you everything you craved. As he continued to move inside you, the intensity of your connection soared to unforseen levels, rendering both of you breathless and lost in the moment. The two of you were intoxicated by each other.

He lifts your legs to place them on his shoulder, deepening the penetration and intensifying the pleasure. The change in angle allowed him to hit all the right spots. "T-There," you utter. "There?" he reiterates, his voice husky with desire. "Yes, right there," you moan as he hits that sweet spot inside you, making your body tremble with pleasure. He chuckles slightly as he repeatedly hits that spot, causing you to lose control of your senses. Your hands grip the sheets tightly as your hips move in perfect sync with his thrusts, the sensation becoming more intense with each movement. The way your moan was mixed with the squelching sound of your wet cunt was music to his ears.

He paused his movement to pull out, leaving you to whimper in protest. He lifts you up and changes positions. His back presses against the headboard, and you now sitting on his lap. Holding your body in place, he lines his cock up with your entrance and slowly enters you again, filling you. Your body takes over, and you ride him with wild abandon, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. "That's it. Good girl," he mutters as his eyes roll back, biting his lips.

Your moan mingles with his groans, creating a symphony of pleasure that echoes through the air, heightening the intensity of the moment. His hips thrust upward, meeting yours in the middle, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrusts deeper and harder. "Alpha," you whine.

With his half-lid eyes, he saw the pure ecstasy on your face. Drinking in your fuck-out expression and my god, you look beautiful. Stunning. Gorgeous. There were so many words he could use to call you right now. But right now, at this moment, you were the most exquisite sight he had ever seen. You were everything that he had dreamed of, and so much more. And he could fall in love with you again and again and again.

Your bounces become more urgent, and your breath comes in short gasps. "So good. So deep," you whisper breathlessly. "You like that. You like your Alpha cock deep inside you, don't you?" His words send a shiver down your spine as you nod eagerly, unable to form a coherent response. His eyes lock with yours. He leans in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers as he continues to move inside you with a relentless rhythm. The kiss deepens as his hands grip your hips, pulling you closer to him.

Seungcheol's hand reaches between your bodies as his thumb finds its way to your clit, rubbing small circles that push you closer to the edge. You moan at his touch. Pulling away from the kiss, your gaze is locked on his half-lidded gaze, a gaze full of desire and intensity. You felt the coils in your stomach tighten as the pleasure built, and your body was on the brink of ecstasy. You were close, and he knew it. His lips twitch into an amusing smirk, the corners crinkling with amusement. "That's my girl. Such a good girl for me, riding me so beautifully. Are you close, baby," he whispers huskily.

"I'm close. So close, Cheol," you gasp out as your climax approaches. Seungcheol's movements become more urgent as he whispers in your ear, "Let go for me, princess. Let me feel you come apart around me."

As you cry out his name and finally reach your peak, "That's it, baby. Let's go. You're so beautiful when you cum," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, as you ride out the waves of pleasure crashing over you. Your body trembles in his arms. Your cunt clenches around him as he continues to move inside you, prolonging your ecstasy. "Fuck!"

Seungcheol groans at the feel of your walls pulsating around him. Seungcheol holds your body close, flipping you back into your previous position, laying you on your back. His hand grips your hips tightly as he pounds into you relentlessly, his own desire evident in his intense gaze. You arch your back in response, reacting to his movements with equal fervor, surrendering completely to the pleasure he bestows on you. The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, mixed with your moans and his grunts. Seungcheol's pace became more erratic as he chased his own release, his movements becoming more desperate and erratic.

"Fuck. Are you ready for Alpha knot?" he growls, his voice low and husky with need. You nod eagerly, your body trembling with anticipation as he finally locks you in place with a deep, primal thrust. His knot thickens and swells, filling you as you cry out in ecstasy. In that moment, you are overwhelmed by the feeling of being claimed by your Alpha, and you can't help but surrender to the primal pleasure coursing through you. His primal growl, his fast, aggressive pace, and the feel of his knot locking inside you send you over the edge, bringing you closer to another orgasm. His breath ragged against your ear as you clung to him desperately.

"C-Cheol," you begged, your voice filled with desperation and desire. You feel his body tense up as he releases it inside you, filling you with his warmth. The sensation of his release triggers your own, sending you both into a state of blissful ecstasy. You cling to him desperately, lost in the overwhelming pleasure of being claimed by your Alpha. Your bodies were entwined in a tangled mess of limbs and heavy breathing, totally exhausted by the raw intensity. The room is filled with the scent of sweat and sex.

Seungcheol waited for his knot to swell down before he could pull out and collapse next to you, completely depleted. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a tender embrace. Pushing your hair to the side. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. His hand caresses your waist gently. You nodded. "I'm fine."

Seungcheol smiled, relieved to hear your response. He placed a kiss on your forehead. You were so happy to see him. If this was ever a dream, you never wanted to wake up. Your husband is home. Early... Wait. Why is he back here so early?

"Wait. You came back so early. I thought-."

"Ah," Seungcheol interrupted. "We ended up finishing up early, and instead of me staying for the next few days, I decided to go home. I wanted to call you to let you know, but I wanted to surprise you. Turns out you surprised me," he chuckled.

Oh, so that's why. You didn't expect him to come back early, nor were you expecting your heat to come either. But you were glad. "Welcome back home. I'm glad you're back," you replied, grateful for his presence. Seungcheol thanked you, pressing a sweet kiss on your lips.

"I'm glad too. I felt awful leaving you here on your own without anyone. So I was thinking, " Seungcheol started. Your eyes turn to him, curious about what he is going to say next. His hand grabs your hand, twirling around your wedding band on your finger before he places a kiss on the back of your hand. He looked into your eyes and finally said what he wanted to say.

"I was thinking, and I know we have talked about this so much, but why don't we start trying for a baby? I think we are ready to take that big step," he said, looking at you with a hopeful expression.

His sudden suggestion stunned you. A baby. A baby with Seungcheol. This. This was a huge decision. And you know you both talked about it during your marriage and said that you both would give it some thought. But now, faced with the reality, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the weight of such a life-changing decision. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts, before responding to Seungcheol's proposal.

"Now before you answer, if you don't want to, I won't force you, and I will wait as long as you want. Whatever you decide, I will respect it. But just know that I love you so much, and I want to take that next step with you in our marriage. I want to be the father of our children. Plus, I think Kkuma will love having siblings to play with," he added.

You giggled at his last response. Deep down, you knew that you had always dreamed of starting a family with him. From the moment you said, 'I do', you knew he was the one you wanted to share your life with and raise a family with. And this. This new chapter of having a baby together would be the perfect step. "I love you too, and I can't imagine a future without you by my side," you finally said, feeling the weight of his words sink in. "Let's start planning for our family together," you joyfully say.

Seungcheol smiled back at you, his eyes shining with joy as he held your cheek, placed a gentle kiss on your lips, and then placed a few more. He smiled softly at you, looking into your eyes, before flipping you over on your stomach on all fours, causing you to squeal. "C-Cheol," you say.

"What? You didn't think this was over?" Seungcheol responded with a mischievous smile. You could feel his lips tracing kisses across your back. His lips trace up your back, making you shiver, and you cry out in protest.

"B-But. Shouldn't we take a break? You just returned from your trip," you mentioned between breaths.

Seungcheol just chuckled and disregardingly ignored what you had just said. His hands roam your body as he leans over, his chest pressing against your back.

"We both know your heat doesn't end there. If we want that baby, we need to keep going. I did promise I would make it up to you, and I intend to keep my word," he whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

His hand grabs your face, turning you to look at him with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"We got all night, baby, and I want… No, I NEED to make sure you're nice, full, and swollen with my baby. And Daddy will make sure that happens," Seungcheol whispered with a devilish grin.

You softly moan in response, feeling a rush of desire and anticipation. Seungcheol's lips curled into a knowing smile before he pressed them against yours, sealing the unspoken agreement between you. It was then that you realized that the night was far from over.

[miabebe]

My Girlfriend Faked Her Amnesia (Wen Junhui)

Reverse Trope Series Installment 4

It wasn’t always that life gave one the chance to hit reset, but now that Jun had gotten it, he didn’t have long before time ran out - 10 days to valentine's day which meant 10 chances to make his amnesiac girlfriend remember him again. But it wasn’t going to be a cakewalk - after all, how could one be reminded of the past if they were only pretending to forget?

Pairing - Wen Junhui x afab! Reader

Word Count- 29k

Genre - Heavy angst, romance, hurt comfort, mild humor and as usual, yes, smut - This piece is lowkey inspired by the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind!

Warnings - Car accident, mentions of blood, memory loss, hospital setting

A/n - Hello my loves! This is my bit for the Lonely Hearts Cafe Collab hosted by the wonderful @camandemstudios, my first ever collab! Please do also check out the stories by all the other writers - everyone has been working super hard on this! I hope you enjoy this piece and leave your thoughtsss :) To be added to the reverse tropes taglist, please comment under this post :)

Smut warnings - This is only the first half (12k) of the story and there is no smut in it yet. Warnings will be added for the second half!

The End: 27th December 2024 

"Careful!" 

You quickly swerved to the side of the road, the car screeching to a stop as the honking truck zoomed past you.

Fuck. Gripping the steering wheel tight, you let out a sigh of relief, your wandering thoughts returning to the present. That was close. 

The man beside you mumbled something under his breath as he unbuckled his seatbelt before alighting the car and opened your door, wordlessly asking you to get out.

You complied, allowing him to take over your role as the driver and quietly slid in the passenger seat.

Adjusting the mirror he glanced up and down the snow clad road before driving off into the darkness. Again, without saying a word. 

That's how things had been between the two of you for a while now. Silent. 

Some might say that after nearly 10 years of being together, the two of you didn't need words to communicate anymore, you just understood each other so well. But only you knew the reality - there was nothing left to say. Everything was at the edge of falling apart. 

You glanced down at your hands, fingers fidgeting. Yes it was cold but it was the emptiness that bothered you. 

Your boyfriend shot you a look before his hand hovered over the controls of the car. 

"Are you feeling cold?" 

See, he didn't understand. He never seemed to understand. And you were tired of explaining but a tiny voice in your head said to try just once more. 

"My mum was asking why there's no ring yet?" Caressing the fingers of your left hand, you looked up, far off at the skies where the morning sun still hadn't made its way up. 

“And what did you say?” 

You turned to him, not hiding the incredulous expression donning your face, “What am I supposed to say Jun?” He looked straight ahead, eyes more focused on the road than required. “How does one answer a question like this?” 

His Adam's apple bobbed with his gulp. “That....we’re not ready?” 

“And looking at us, who will buy that?” 

Jun kept quiet again, perhaps because he knew you were right.

The two of you had been together for the majority of your lives which meant your families, friends, colleagues all were a consistent witness of your relationship. Even over the last week, when you were spending Christmas with your family at the ski cabin, your sister wouldn’t stop talking about how you two were perfect for one another. She didn’t know that behind closed doors, in the privacy of your room, the two of you slept with your backs facing each other.

Jun sighed, noticing you were getting lost in your thoughts again. “Why do we have to justify ourselves to anyone anyways Y/n? This is our life-” 

“You’re right, there’s no need to justify anything to anyone. But you can tell me why, right?” You half turned towards him, leaning against the car door. “You and I can talk about why we’re nearing our thirties and still haven’t made any decision about getting married?” 

“Jesus, twenty five is not considered thirties Y/n." He rolled his eyes exasperated. "Besides, what does age have to do with marriage? Getting married should be something that we decide because we want to spend our lives with each other.”

You blinked at him. “Then do you not want to spend your life with-”

“I did not say that.” He glanced at you before quickly looking back at the road. “Of course, I do. Baby, you and I live together, we do everything together, we are as good as married-”

“So then a wedding would just be a formality right-”

“No, it would be a show!” You flinched a little as he raised his voice, annoyed. “It would be to show the world something, to prove to others that we are committed and will last through it all, as though signing a few documents is a guarantee of that.”

“Marriage isn’t just about that Jun. Do you have any idea how many things will become easier - buying a house, getting loans, so many logistics-”

He scoffed, shaking his head slowly. “That’s what marriage is to you? A practical, logical, legal binding?” 

Biting your lower lip you let out a deep breath. “If you think it should mean much more or that it should be made purely on emotions then what’s stopping you? Or do you not love me anymore-”

“Why would you say that?” He groaned, like he was tired of this conversation. “I do love you, more than anything. Which is why I want you to be able to focus on yourself without taking the burden of a marriage. I want you to fulfill all the dreams you have for your career, for your professional growth-”

“Jun, I can do all of that while being married too-”

“Marriage changes people! It changes priorities, it changes expectations-”

“So that’s what you’re afraid of? Expectations? Because I expect you to be a bit more responsible? To get your act together-”

“It won’t stop at that will it?” He sighed. “This is all our life is going to be - First it’ll be about dividing household chores, who’ll do dishes, who’ll take out the trash. Next it’ll be about finding the perfect house and having children-” 

“We’ve talked about this and you said you didn’t have a problem with having children Jun.” You snapped at him, triggered at his words. “I’m not getting any younger here-”

“And I’ve not grown up!” He slammed the wheel with his hand. “I do want to have kids someday but not now, not any time soon. I… I can barely look after myself, how am I going to look after a child? And if I’m incapable it will mean that you will have to carry the burden of it all - of raising the child, of me and of yourself and I don’t want that for you.”

You fell silent again, realising that the conversation was going just like it always did.

You would go on to insist that you were ready for whatever was to come and the time was right now, Jun would insist that he isn’t willing to let you take on so much and that marriage shouldn’t be about timing, it should be about wanting to be with each other. You would then claim he’s being too emotionally driven about this and he would claim that you were being too practical and the conversation would just be about the two of you justifying your point of views, reaching no conclusion. 

This is what happened every single time. This was what was going to happen again now. And frankly, you were tired of it. 

“When did we start wanting such different things?” You glanced at the road that disappeared into the darkness. The early morning light was not enough to illuminate the path ahead. “I thought…. we were perfect for each other, that we were meant to be. After nearly ten years, where did it all go wrong?”

You didn’t mean for it to sound hurtful, but Jun had always been the sensitive one.  

“Just because we’re not in the same frame of mind right now, doesn’t mean all the years we shared mean nothing.”

“But what does it mean?” You smiled sadly. “We aren’t growing, we aren’t able to help each other grow, what was the point of it all? Ten years and…. we achieved nothing.” 

It was like you were leaving arrow after arrow to pierce his heart - he knew you were the reasonable kind - always planning, always making lists, always marking milestones. Whatever you were saying now, had to be the result of a moment of frustration, not because you were questioning the love that you had for each other…. right? 

You weren’t regretting this, were you? 

He let out the breath he was holding. “Then maybe it would have been better if the last ten years didn’t happen at all.” 

Please say I’m wrong Y/n. Please say prove me wrong, please say we’re worth it. 

Although you were never really one to be driven by emotions, Jun always was. The one who never forgot anniversaries, the one who always tried to make every moment special, the one who always reminded you that you were not each other’s habits but each other’s love. Had things gone so far that the man who savoured every moment of being in love with you, thought it was better that you never met? 

“Is that what you really think?” You whispered, ignoring the feeling of something pricking the back of your eyes. 

Jun turned to you surprised. How could you even think that? Of course not-

“Careful!” 

Headlights beamed from right across, but this time, Jun’s quick swerve was not enough. 

As the car skidded wildly, with a sickening crunch it slammed into the side of the oncoming truck, the momentum sending it toppling over, rolling violently onto its roof with a screech of metal. As it came to a stop, the sun rose from above the clouds far away and steam rose from what was remaining of the crumpled vehicle. In the heavy stillness that followed, alongside the eerie whisper of the wind, streams of red mixed with the white of the snow. 

Your boyfriend’s hand extending towards you was the last thing you saw before everything went black. 

The Afterlife: 31st December 2024 

Pain. 

Unbearable pain. 

That's what was searing through his body, over and over again. Everywhere, in every inch…. Just pain. 

Perhaps because he hadn’t stopped running. 

Jun had been running in the forest for what seemed like forever. Where to? He had no idea. Where from? He didn’t know that either. 

All he knew was he was looking for something he had lost. Something clearly precious to him. Something he couldn’t live without. 

Yet ignorantly, he kept running. Until....

Jun.

Your voice echoed around him like a soft whisper. Finally stopping by the lake, he looked around, frantically trying to find you. 

It was then, across the frozen crystal clear waters he saw you - beautiful as ever, the only bright thing in the dark, daunting woods. 

He wanted to go to you, he wanted to be with you but the slippery ice didn’t let him take a step forward. 

Instead, you took a step back. 

Then another one. 

Then another. 

Jun continued to call out your name, trying to stop you from receding into the shadows but in vain. Slowly you disappeared into the darkness, the black of the woods engulfing you as Jun fell to his knees, the ice cracking under him. 

Shutting his eyes, he attempted to stop the pain but it only got worse. It was just pain, pain, pain. 

When he opened them, white flickering lights were strangely swaying above him. 

Blinking, Jun tried to see clearly but just then, the ice finally gave away, submerging him into the cold waters. 

As the icy waters of the lake dragged him down, Jun felt his eyes slowly shut again and your name was the last thing he remembered.

The Awakening: 27th January 2025 

The blur flickering light of the ceiling became clear as the rhythmic beeping of machines slowly pulled him from the depths of unconsciousness.

Head throbbing and body aching, an unsettling sense of disorientation washed over him, like he had been asleep for too long. Slowly raising himself on his elbows, Jun looked around, eyes finding the strange setting of a hospital room, the overwhelming smell of antiseptic finally hitting him. 

Shutting his eyes again, he tried to recollect what happened, how he ended up here……

“Y/n…” 

The argument. 

The crash.

The sight of your eyes fluttering shut as blood trickled down your face. 

“Fuck.” He mumbled, looking at all the tubes and wires attached to him, holding him back. Without an ounce of care, he tugged them off, triggering the loud alarms of the machines but before his feet even touched the cold tile of the floor, the doors flung open and a handful of people donning impeccably white coats spilled in, looking worried.

“Sir, please don’t-”

“Where’s Y/n?”

“You need to calm down, you’re not ok-”

He grabbed the collar of the man before him. “Don’t tell me to calm down. Where is Y/n?”

“We…” The doctor looked terrified. “Who is Y/n?”

Annoyed, Jun tugged on his shirt harder. “The car crash, there was a woman with me in the car, in the passenger seat, where is she?” 

“What woman?” The man stuttered, looking at his team confused. “You were brought to our hospital alone.” 

Shocked, Jun loosened his grip, allowing the doctor to quickly move back, putting himself at an arm’s distance. 

Alone?

“That’s not possible….” He muttered. “She was with me, she should be here…” 

“The accident happened in the countryside so you were taken to the nearest emergency care but your injuries were too severe so they shifted you here, to the city hospital.” The doctor looked at him slightly hesitating. “Maybe there was a woman with you, but she wasn’t brought here. Either her condition wasn’t serious enough or she didn’t….”

Eyes narrowing, Jun looked at the shivering man before him. “She didn’t, what?”

“S-she didn’t make it-”

“How dare you?” He spoke between gritted teeth, charging towards the doctor, only to be quickly held back by the nurses around him. “How dare you even suggest something like that-”

“Mr. Junhui, I was only stating the possibility-”

“What you’re saying is not possible-”

“Sir please, your heart rate is getting erratic-”

“I don’t care, I need to find her-”

“You can’t leave.”

“Stop me if you can.” Jun pulled himself free from the grip of those around him, leaving for the door, glaring at the crowd challengingly. 

Only one of them dared to step forward - a woman, one not wearing a doctor’s coat, looking at him with sympathy rather than fear. 

“Sir please….” She whispered softly, slowly approaching him, ignoring the worried looks of those around her. “I understand your worry and I’m so sorry for this but you need to calm down…. I have no other choice.” 

Jun frowned as she neared, maintaining a strong, unavoidable eye contact, the contents of her hands completely missing his vision. Before he could understand what was happening, there was a prick in his arm, hands reaching out to him and the flickering light blurred again as his eyes shut. 

28th January 2025

“Let me go.” 

The events from about 24 hours ago had repeated again. 

The fluttering lights, the machines, the wires, the tubes, the doctors - everything happened in the same sequence except there was one difference this time. When Jun tried to pull on the wires and swing his legs off the bed, he found all four of his limbs restrained. 

“Please.” He whispered. “I need to find Y/n.”

“Sir, there really was no woman brought along with you.” The woman’s eyes reflected the same sympathy they had since the day he had been wheeled in. “We got your records from the emergency center you were taken to.” 

Pulling out a bunch of papers from a file, she placed it on his lap. “There was a woman with you but she was discharged from there within a week.”

“A-a week?” Jun stuttered, looking around. “How long has it been since the accident?” 

“Almost…” She looked at the papers thoughtfully. “Almost a month. You’ve been unconscious all this while, you sustained a traumatic injury to your-”

“What about Y/n?” 

Stepping up and reading through the papers, the doctor from earlier spoke with his expertise. “She had a severe injury on her head too but she gained consciousness about a week after the accident and she…. just left.” 

“Just left?” It felt as though something cold was just dumped on his head. “Just left me?” 

“Mr. Jun, we’re not sure what exactly happened but….” The woman looked at him uncertainly. “The last few weeks that you were here, no woman has come to visit you. Y/n hasn’t been around.” 

Jun let out a shaky breath, “She probably didn’t know I was here. She… she must be looking for me, she must be so worried. I should go to her-” 

“You’re not well enough to leave.” The doctor spoke from behind the woman, worried even though Jun’s movements were restrained. “I wouldn’t suggest-” 

“I don’t want your suggestion. I want you to open these-” He tugged on the belts. “-so I can go.” 

Everyone exchanged looks, shifting in their places.

“Open them!” 

“Again, I’m sorry Mr. Jun.” The woman approached him slowly, an injection clearly visible in her hand this time. “This is for your good.” 

Once again, everything became blur before it all went dark. 

31st January 2025

“She didn’t pick the call.” The woman without a coat, who’s name Jun learnt was Mira, walked up to him. “Again.” 

Sighing, Jun looked outside the window. The streets were busy - cars were going up and down, people were walking about, some laughing, some stressed. But everything was moving, everyone was moving. Only his life had come to a standstill. 

“Do you remember anyone else’s number?” 

Jun shook his head. “Who even memorises numbers these days? Everything is stored on my phone-”

“-which broke in the accident.” She finished for him. 

“I only remember my girlfriend’s number because she forced me to remember it in case of emergencies like these.” He chuckled softly, walking up to the wall with the pictures of the two of you stuck all over. He ran his fingers over the picture of you hugging him from behind, head resting on his shoulder. “She was always so well prepared, always a step ahead….. except now.”

When Jun woke up 3 days ago, Mira had been there to tell him you were nowhere to be found. She had looked for you at home, which had been abandoned for over a month, at the library where you often worked on your projects, at the stores where you preferred to shop, at the park where you jogged every morning. You were nowhere. 

Your family was nowhere to be seen either - the house was locked and the neighbours claimed they had gone somewhere overseas. There was no trace of you at all - it was like you had vanished into thin air, like you were just a mirage, a dream. 

“I wish I could help Jun.” Mira walked up to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, looking around his apartment. “I’m sorry the only thing I could assist you with is getting you back home. But I had someone clean up the place so it should be more habitable now.” 

“Thank you Mira, for everything.” He muttered, slowly moving her arm away, tearing his eyes away from the photographs. “I’m sorry, I… I think I should….. shower, I smell like the hospital.” 

She nodded as Jun disappeared into the washroom, wordlessly asking her to leave. Grabbing her bag, she shot him one last sad look as she hesitatingly made her way out. 

Standing before the mirror, Jun sighed at his reflection - he had never seen himself look this lifeless. Wincing in pain, he removed his shirt slowly, pulling it over his head - almost healed gashes and wounds were littered all over his torso. 

The memory of an injured you flashed behind his shut eyes.

“Where are you Y/n?” He whispered, trying not to let his voice shake. “Come back to me.” 

Jun glanced at the small coffee shop across the road, one he had never seen before, the hanging sign board slowly swaying in the cold wind - Lonely Hearts Cafe. 

So many things had changed over the last month. He, who was the biggest homebody known to mankind, could not bear to stay in his house for another minute. Not where every inch of it was filled with the essence of you, where everything was a reminder of you. A part of him was relieved that there were pictures and traces of you were everywhere - that meant you were real, not a figment of his imagination…. but that also made your absence hurt more. 

He had spent the last few hours wandering the streets mindlessly, trying not to let everything outside the haven the two of you built together remind him of you too. 

But there you were, in your favourite pizza shop on the corner of the street, munching on a slice. Just as he approached, shocked and frantic, you disappeared, like you were never there. And then he saw you again, at the hairdressers this time, getting just the ends trimmed, like always. And then you were by the butchers, petting that little dog you adored. And then by the lake, glancing at the frozen waters, vanishing as usual when he approached to stand by you. Even though you weren’t really around, his eyes found the memories of you everywhere - it was like he didn’t know a life without you. 

There was no life without you.  

The cafe he was currently staring at was perhaps the only place that Jun knew he wouldn’t see you. It looked new, like a business that had just freshly found itself in this vicinity but something about it was also whimsical and fairytale-like, as though it was someone’s old dream came true. Jun had never been a coffee kinda guy - Chinese tea was usually his go-to beverage so it didn’t make sense why he felt this strange urge to go in. Maybe because he knew he wouldn’t be haunted by your absence there.

At first, he took a step ahead, attempting to go towards it but he was unable to take another - he didn’t want to not see you. Even though it hurt, he’d rather see the memories of you everywhere than familiarise himself with a life without you. 

So shaking his head, he turned away, heading back home, going back to everything that reminded him of you when…… something caught his eye. 

At first, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him again because there was no way…. 

Inching closer, ignoring the oncoming traffic and the screaming drivers, he crossed the road, standing right before the large glass windows of the shop. Slowly raising his hand, he wiped the condensation off the frosted glass, catching a clear sight of what was inside. 

You. 

There you were, walking about in a little checkered apron, placing cups of coffee on the table as you flashed your bright smile at those who were seated. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jun turned around, fists tightened painfully. You’ll disappear again, just like all those times before, you’ll disappear again, he was just imagining this, projecting his innermost desire. You weren’t really here….right? 

But the sound of your laughter told him he was wrong. Quickly turning back, he caught sight of you again, making your way to the counter, putting cash into a large glass jar on the wooden shelf. 

As though in a trance, Jun walked over to the door and pushed it open, eyes not leaving you as you laughed and scribbled something down on a notepad before walking to the tables with a bounce in your strut he had never seen before. 

Just as your name found itself on the tip of his tongue, you stopped your tracks and turned around, eyes finding him walking in, lips curling with a wide smile. 

“Hi sir, welcome to Lonely Hearts Cafe.” Clutching the notepad to your chest, you beamed at him. “Do you want to take a seat or get a drink to go?” 

“Y/n…” He whispered, barely able to hear himself, taking a small step ahead.

“Oh I almost forgot,” You softly smacked your head. “If you’re interested, we’re having a small valentines special event, for singles. Any two people who get the exact same drink will be paired to sit at the same table. It’s kind of a ‘if your tastes match, maybe you guys will too’ sort of concept?” 

Given he was staring at you with a vacant expression, you blinked at him like you weren’t quite sure if he understood. 

Jun didn’t understand. Why were you behaving like he was a stranger? Like you didn’t know him. 

Maybe…. this wasn’t you.

“So…” Tucking your loose fringes behind your ear, you tried searching his face for an answer. “What would you like?” 

Jun’s eyes flickered to the healing gash on your forehead, the night of the accident, flashing in his mind again. 

It was you. There was no doubt it was you. 

And so without a second thought, Jun took two big strides, pulling you towards him, wrapping his arms around you tightly, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Excuse me?! Sir-”

“Where have you been?” He muttered, not realising you were struggling to break free from his grip. “I’ve been looking for you-”

“Get off me!” Using all your strength, you pushed him off you, causing the man to take a few staggering steps back, shocked. 

All heads in the cafe turned towards the two of you, a strange silence descending upon the room before hushed whispers broke out. Flashing a fake smile at everyone, you quickly grabbed Jun by his wrist, leading him out of the cafe, shutting the door behind you. 

“What the hell was that?” You glared at him. “Sir, I don’t know who you think you are, but that was unacceptable.” 

Jun blinked at you confused. “I thought….I thought-” 

“I don’t care what you thought.” You crossed your arms looking stern, all the warmth from earlier having left your being. “If I ever see you in my cafe again, I swear to god I will call the cops.”

“You…” Jun looked at you incredulously. “You’ll call the cops on me?” 

“Most definitely.” 

It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense. Why would you call the cops on him? Were you mad at him about something?

Jun’s racked his mind, trying to think of the last conversation the two of you had. The night of the accident. He couldn’t remember all too well, but the image of you glancing at your empty ring finger flashed in his mind. 

“Is this about….getting married?” You frowned as Jun ran his hands through his hair. “If it really means this much to you then, fine, let’s get married. I just wanted it to be-”

“Married?” You looked at him like you couldn’t believe what he was saying. “Why on Earth would I marry you? I don’t even know you-”

“Jun!” 

At the sound of his name, Jun turned around, only to find himself being slammed into the familiar chest of a tall, lanky man. The fragrance of expensive perfume immediately told him who it was - His best friend Minghao. As Jun tried to break free from his friend’s untimely interruption, Minghao held him tight, whispering in his ear. 

“Don’t say a word.” 

“Mr. Xu.” You glanced at the intertwined figures of both men, eyebrows furrowed. “You know this man?” 

“Y/n.” Breaking free, Minghao threw his arm around Jun, flashing a hard smile. “This is Jun, he’s a dear friend. Sorry if he said anything or got out of line - he was just discharged from the hospital after a big accident, he’s a bit disoriented.” 

“Oh.” You looked at him up and down as though it all made sense and you were unable to decide whether to feel sympathetic or stand your ground. “Mr. Jun, I’m sorry you went through all that but whatever you did, that was not appropriate at all.” 

“Y/n what-”

“Yes of course.” Minghao squeezed Jun’s shoulder, shutting him up. “He won’t be troubling you again.” 

“If you really do need a cup of coffee, there are a lot more shops down the street that I’m sure will suit your taste.” You took a step back, reaching for the door again, expression unreadable. “Please don’t come back to me.” 

With that you pushed the door open and disappeared into the cafe allowing Minghao to finally let go of his friend who turned to him, beyond confused. 

“What…. What was that?” He pointed at you, waiting the tables again inside, like nothing happened. Like he didn’t exist. 

“Jun…” Minghao let out a shaky breath, looking carefully at his friend. “Let’s go home, I’ll explain everything.”

“No.” Shaking his head frantically, he reached for the door again. “I’m not going anywhere without Y/n.” 

Moving quickly, Minghao put himself in between, blocking the way. 

“Please.” He held his hand out. “Y/n, she…. she won’t come with you.”

Jun looked at him incredulously. “Why not?” 

“Because she doesn’t remember….” Minghao spoke slowly, watching his friend’s face carefully. “She doesn’t remember you.” 

The throbbing pain was back. 

Actually, it never left. The pain was always there, it was him who had suppressed it under everything else. But with the revelation of things, it became unhinged, freely coursing in his being, hurting everywhere. 

Minghao poured Jun another cup of tea as the two men sat at the dining table, the latter still clutching a photo of you, trying to make sense of all that he was told. 

“She….she doesn’t remember me at all?” He frowned, still confused. “Because of…. you?” 

“Because she doesn’t want to.” Minghao corrected his friend, yet again. “Jun, it was her choice to do the procedure.”

The procedure. 

Minghao had spoken all about it in great detail for the last half an hour. It all went over his head though, Jun didn’t register a single piece of the information thrown at him except one thing - the procedure was to remove memories. 

Yes apparently that was a thing. A new initiative by Minghao’s company - a simple medical procedure in which one could choose to erase their memories of a certain period of time. A process straight out of the sci-fi books - one so ridiculous, Jun would have never believed it if it weren’t coming out of his best friend's mouth. 

That his girlfriend had gotten all her memories of him wiped from her mind. 

“It makes no sense.” Jun shook his head. “Why would she want to forget me? Why would she choose to…”

Minghao looked at his friend staring at your photo sadly. He had always known Jun to be someone full of life - he was ambitious, passionate and always bursting with energy. But now he looked like the whole world had come crashing around him. 

“I’m sorry Jun.” Minghao could feel the guilt eating him on the inside. “All of it happened in my company, right under my nose but I had no idea Y/n had gotten it done till it was all over. Maybe if I had reached the clinic just a little earlier, I could have stopped them from injecting the serum-”

“No Hao, whether you could stop her or not, it won’t change the fact that Y/n wanted to….” Jun swallowed the bile rising in his throat. “She didn’t want to just leave me or walk away from this relationship, she wanted to erase its entire existence from her life. To pretend like it never happened. But why…”

“I wish I knew Jun.” Minghao shook his head softly. “All I know is that this choice mustn't have been easy for her - to forget you she had to have the last 10 years of her life removed. That’s how far she was willing to go to…”

Minghao's words rang in his ears. 

10 years….

Maybe it would have been better if the last ten years didn’t happen at all.

The night of the accident…. that's what he had said. 

Oh god, was that why you….

What had he done? 

“Jun?” Minghao snapped his fingers before his friend's face. “Where are you lost-”

“This was a mistake.” Jun shook his head. “This was all a horrible misunderstanding. I didn’t mean…”

“Mean what?” 

Jun couldn’t even recall why he had said that. It was like his brain was suppressing the stupidity from recurring. 

“I need to talk to her. I need to fix this.”

“How exactly-”

“I’ll marry her, right this instant if that’s what it takes-”

“Jun no-”

“Hao, yes.” He turned to his friend, determined. “I can fix it. I can talk to her and sort this out. Just help me put her memories back again-”

“That’s not-”

“-and I’ll make her see how much I love her-” 

“Jun, that's not possible.” Minghao raised his voice, interrupting his friend’s rant. “Dealing with memories isn’t child’s play. It's one thing to remove them, but to restore them? That’s impossible.”

It felt like everything around was shattering. “You mean she won't ever….”

Minghao shook his head, delivering the final blow. “She won't… ever.” 

Jun stared at the photo in his hand. 

Minghao, who had insisted on staying the night, had hit the shower, his tea sitting cold in its cup. 

Cold draft was blowing in through the open kitchen window. The tips of his fingers were frozen but they were not colder than the thing wrapping around his heart, eating it away.  

Minghao’s last words as he was lingering by the door rang in his ears. 

“Y/n chose to forget you Jun, she chose to restart her life. Maybe it’s best that you do too.” 

Restart his life? Pretend like you didn’t exist and move on? How on Earth was he supposed to do that? 

He glanced at the room around him - at the pictures of you on the walls, at the vase you brought back from your trip to spain, at the coasters you always made sure to use, at the rug you specifically had made to match the couch, at every single thing in his life that was a testament of you. How was he supposed to forget all of it? 

But the truth was, you had forgotten it all. You had walked out of his life, your home and everything the two of you had built together over the last 10 years. None of this around him meant anything to you anymore. 

You had built a new world for yourself, one which Jun had reached, lost in his thoughts. The cafe, the coffee, the customers, the infectious smile on your face, the little bounce in strut, the way your hair fell over your shoulder as you’d turn - you had built something that had no trace of him but more importantly, you looked so happy. Jun couldn’t remember the last time he saw you smile this wide, or even laugh at something stupid. The winter was harsh on the city outside but everything around you seemed so warm. 

Maybe Minghao was right. Maybe it was best that he forgot it all too. 

1st February 2025 

“Where do I put this?” 

Jun turned to Mira who was holding up a bunch of books in her arms. 

“They're all cookbooks, but I'm not sure whether to put it in the box with her law books or in the one with magazines.”

“We can just leave these out.” Taking them from here, Jun walked into the kitchen. “We don't have to put away everything.” 

Sighing Mira followed him. “Jun, boss said everything. Everything that belongs to her, everything that reminds you of her.” 

Jun stared at the books in his hands. Two hours ago, he was sprawled on the couch half asleep, your scarf wrapped around his hand, a frame with your photo in his arms. Much to his annoyance, the consistent ringing of the bell forced him to drag himself to the door and standing on the other side was Mira. 

Jun didn't think he would ever have any reason to see her again but apparently, Mira wasn't just a random hospital staff who helped him - she was in fact Minghao's employee, a psychiatrist who worked in his Memory Wipe project and was asked by him to look after Jun till he came around, as a favour. That day when she left the apartment, she had immediately told Minghao about all that happened - that's how he found his friend declaring he was ready to marry you in front of the coffee shop. Mira though, had no idea about you or that you had your memories wiped - she only found out when Minghao, who left early in the morning for a meeting, sent her over to Jun’s house with a new phone and a contract. A contract to obliterate the last 10 years of his memories. 

“You want me to erase her existence?” Jun furiously muttered into the phone. “How did you even think-” 

“Will you be able to survive with her memories?” Even though he couldn't see his face, Jun knew Minghao was donning a sorry expression. “It'll kill slowly you, Jun. Not being able to be with her, not being able to forget her, not being able to move on. If I had to name something worse than hell, this is it.”

For long after the call ended, Jun stared at the contact papers on the coffee table, his mind disturbed. As much as he didn't want to distance himself from you, could he really live with the fact that you'll never be his again? It had been barely 2 days since he was awake and he was already at the verge of losing his mind. Maybe it was better he too forgot it all. 

But it also pained him to think that if both of you forgot everything, then there was no one who truly knew the kind of pure and unwavering love the two of you shared over the last ten years. At least for the sake of those, he had to stay strong, he had to live with this. But could he really? 

And it was thoughts like this that had him rooted to his chair for over an hour. 

“You don't have to decide now.” Mira interrupted his cycle of thought, tired of watching his unmoving figure. “The procedure is simple. I already have the 10 year formula ready in your name. All you have to do is just come by the centre when you're ready - one injection and it'll be done.” 

As much as Jun was grateful for the time, there was one thing Minghao wanted him to do immediately - clear the apartment of anything and everything that belonged to you. That's what the two of them were in the middle of right now as Mira glanced at the cookbooks in his hands. 

“Jun, whether or not you want to get the Memory Wipe, you need to get rid of all these things. You won't ever move on otherwise-” 

“They're cookbooks.” Jun rolled his eyes, placing them on the shelf of the kitchen. “Has it not occurred to you that I might use these myself?”

Mira stared at him like she didn't believe him but Jun ignored her. There was no way he was going to get rid of every last bit of you. What would be left of him then? 

All your clothes were packed and stashed in the store room, all the pictures of the two of you were taken down, your books, your things, everything was sealed and locked away. Except a few that Jun refused to let go - the lavender cream you used every night, the harmonica you loved to play, the cookbooks you swore would make you a better chef than him. Jun didn't have the heart to walk away from all of it just yet. 

Giving up, Mira began walking away. “I'm going to put her shoes away.” 

“Wait.” Aligning the books hurriedly, Jun quickly ran over to the closet. “Maybe just leave those heels.” 

Mira looked exasperated. “What use could you possibly have of women's footwear?”

Nothing. Jun just loved those black stilettos you wore to work - the sound of them against the wooden flooring was what told him you were home everyday. 

“Jun, this whole thing isn't just about you getting over Y/n. If you plan to do the Memory Wipe, you especially need to do this” Mira stood up sighing. “Imagine losing 10 years of your life and coming home and finding a woman's things all over. You won't remember her, you won't know what happened, you won't have any answers, it'll drive you mad. Please, listen to me, you need to get rid of it all.”

Jun turned away, peeling his eyes from the closet as Mira put the last of your footwear in the boxes, looking at him sadly. 

“How did Minghao even design this procedure?” Jun glanced at the contact papers fluttering on the table. “I knew he was indulging in some biomedical R&D, I had no idea it was this intense.” 

Mira chuckled. “Biomedical R&D barely covers the scope of what he does. Let's just say the Xu enterprises dabble in a lot of things and the Memory Wipe is their latest project. Actually its just undergoing it's last clinical trial - it’s not even advertised or available for the public.” 

“How did Y/n get to know about it then?” Jun frowned like it didn't make sense. “Minghao never talks business with me and I'm sure he's never mentioned it to her either. Then…”

“There were a bunch of lawyers involved in the legal aspects of the clinical trials.” Mira confessed, shrugging. “Maybe she heard from someone in the fraternity.” 

“Funny.” Jun smiled sadly. “Y/n has never been one for office gossip. She just liked to get her work done and head straight back home. It was always about efficiency and not wasting time.”

Mira smiled. “That's an admirable work ethic.” 

“Right? I wish I had that.” Jun glanced out of the window at the snow tumbling out of the sky. “Maybe she wouldn't have had to work so hard if I did.”

“What do you mean?” 

Jun glanced at Mira who had joined him, before continuing to stare out. 

“Y/n always believed in working hard. For her, a job was simply a means to make money. She didn't associate it with dreams or passion, it was just… survival? Me on the other hand, ever since I was a child, all I wanted to do was be an actor. I spent the last, god knows how many years, chasing that dream, picturing myself before the cameras, walking down red carpets. If I look back at my life, all I see are auditions and rejections and more rejections.” 

“It's not wrong to want to live your dream.” 

“No it's not but I don't know how right it is to live with your head in the clouds. Y/n always had her feet on the ground - that was the only reason we survived through it all.” 

“So your story is the ‘opposites attract’ kind?” 

“I guess.” Jun laughed softly. “We were polar opposites actually. She hates talking, I'm always chatting away. She's a mess, I'm neat. She hates doing household chores, I love doing them. Even in food, she loves sweet things, I like them spicy. Our preferences in anything, be it music or movies or where to go or what to wear, they were always so different but I guess….that's what made things fun. Sometimes she'd adjust for me, sometimes me for her, and though things weren't going our way, we were happy because we were making each other happy.” 

“Wow.” Mira let out a breath. “I always thought being in love with someone entirely from me would be difficult to handle.”

“If I'm being honest, there were times it did get difficult.” Jun wiped the condensation off the window with his hand, catching sight of your cafe across the street. “Y/n lived life like it was a checklist. Graduating high school at 18, then law school at 23, first job at 24, marriage at 25, three kids by the time she's 30, retired by 55, starting an organic farm business at 57 and then dying whenever - she had her whole life planned. Me on the other hand, I… live in the moment, go where life takes me. Everything around us is so uncertain, think about the accident”

Jun’s voice shook as fragments of it flashed in his head.

“We could have died, life as we know could have ended, so what's the point in deciding everything so prematurely? I take life by the day, I enjoy every moment - one day I'm doing martial arts classes for kids, one day I'm teaching old women some Chinese dishes, one day I'm doing a modelling contract. End of the day, I still make money to feed myself and pay my bills, I just don't go to bed having the next 10 years of my life planned and somehow….. I think that's what drove us apart. That's why she…” Jun let out a deep breath. “That's why she decided to start afresh. Her practicality and my emotional disposition just… didn't find any middle ground.” 

Mira softly placed her hand on Jun's shoulder, caressing it with her thumb. Clearing his throat, he took a step back, tearing his eyes away from the coffee house. 

“We should probably continue with the packing.” 

Mira nodded as she followed him, the two of them sorting things silently this time. Normally Jun wouldn't ever let go of a chance to talk about you, but now, given he had to speak about you in past tense, Jun couldn't bring himself to talk about you over and over again. Minghao was right, it was all just getting harder and harder.

And so, the next few hours were navigated in mostly silence and occasional questions. By the time the sun had begun to set, the two of them were done - all of your things had been neatly packed and put in the store room, the door locked, keys stashed in Mira's pocket for safe keeping. A couple of things had been piled by the door to be thrown out, Jun's take out dinner had arrived and Mira was lingering by the door, ready to leave. Yet the contract papers were sitting on the table, like an elephant in the room. Unable to hold herself back anymore, Mira sighed. 

“Jun, I know Minghao left the choice to you but as a professional and as someone who cares about you, I think it's best you…. " She gulped. "sign the contract. I've seen some couples after the clinical trials, trust me, you don't want to live this weight-” 

“Mira,” Jun’s voice left him between gritted teeth. “It's been barely 2 days since I got to know about what Y/n did. I haven't even decided if I am to be sad or angry or stay or move on.” He shut his eyes, running his hands through his hair. “The only reason I agreed to keep her things away or allowed someone else to even touch them was because one, I trust Minghao more than anything and two, if I really want to, I know I'm strong enough to break the door of that storeroom and get everything back. But what you're asking of me, is a permanent change. Please just…. Let me think things through at my pace.” 

Mira blinked at him, her hand on the handle of the door, unmoving. 

“Thank you for your help yet again Mira, but I think it's time you go.” 

And before the apology even left her mouth as she stepped out, Jun shut the door behind her, leaning against it.  

He just needed some time. That’s all.

Or at least that's what he thought but in just a few hours, he realised he didn't. 

Yesterday was perhaps bearable because Minghao, although he didn't speak much, was there in the house. Today though, heating up his food all alone, sitting at the table by himself, walking around his house in the dimness of the night lights, staring at the empty walls and empty shelves - it was all too much. Jun couldn't bring himself to go another day like this, forget the rest of his life. 

Taking a deep breath he sat on the couch, pulling the papers towards himself, then pen in his hand shaking. 

He wasn't strong enough for this - he couldn't go on without you. 

Finally making up his mind, he gripped the pen tight and signed the contract. There was no other way. 

But the universe said otherwise. 

If Jun had just turned around and gone to his room, things would've gone down very differently. Maybe if he decided to sleep instead of clearing the dishes and throwing the trash, he would've never thought about clearing all the boxes that Mira left by the door. Maybe then he wouldn't have come across that box. 

At first glance when he opened it, it seemed like odd bits of trash - there were pieces of paper, little trinkets, bills and what not. He was just about to throw it when his eye caught the familiar logo on one of the bills - the Lovers Cavern. The first Michelin star restaurant that Jun had taken you to on a date. Frowning, he ran his fingers through the contents of the box, recognising them one by one. Carnival and movie tickets, the crinkled wrapper of the ice cream he loves, the magnets from your first road trip together, the dried corsage from your first dance together…. everything was a thoughtful piece of the time the two of you spent together. 

You had been carefully saving them over the last 10 years. 

Jun stared at it wordlessly, lost in thought. He had never taken you as one for sentimentality. Hell you didn't even like taking photos or recording videos of your time together, he was always the one who had to pull you in, forcing you to smile. He had always assumed those small moments meant nothing to you but this box told him a different story - you had been treasuring them all these years in your own way. This relationship wasn’t just part of a checklist, you had been emotionally invested in it since the beginning, since 10 years. 

Jun could only imagine how much his words must have hurt you that day…. Clearly enough to make you take such a big step. You didn't walk away because you wanted to. You walked away because of him. His words made you…. it was his fault. 

Walking over to the window, Jun glanced at your cafe, watching as you stepped out with a couple of bags in your hands, turning off the lights and locking the door. As you balanced your things in your hands, waving for a cab, Jun slowly realised….. Minghao was wrong. 

His only options weren't to either live with your memories alone or forget you and move on. There was a third one. One that Jun was about to choose. 

He was going to get you back. He had done it once and he could do it again. 

Jun was going to make you fall in love with him all over again. 

2nd February 2025 

Rubbing the back of your sore neck, you sat down at the benches outside the cafe, enjoying the cold. 

One might think you were stupid for sitting in the snow clad street in just a small dress and an apron but the heat of the coffee was getting unbearable. Sipping on your own coffee, you glanced at the hustle and bustle down the street. Everyone looked so busy, like they were navigating life with a purpose. This coffee shop had always been your purpose, the dream you had been living for almost a month now yet something felt unfulfilled. Something was missing. Before you could figure out what, a voice broke you out of your reverie. 

“Is the same drink, same table offer still going on?” 

Raising your head, you let your eyes find the man who interrupted the few minutes of your me-time.

“Mr. Wen Junhui.” You cleared your throat, letting the annoyance show on your face. “I believe I had asked you not to enter my shop?”

“You did.” Jun nodded, sitting down beside you, a few feet away. “And I did not enter your shop - technically I'm outside.” 

You glared at him, eyes narrowed. 

“Well since you're such an ardent follower of what I say, you shouldn't be sitting with me either because-”

“Because I need to have the same drink as you, right?” Jun cocked his head at you, raising his cup. “And I do.” 

“There's no way.” You chuckled, taking a sip. “I can assure you, you don't.” 

“Correct me if I'm wrong,” Jun took a sip, smiling to himself because he knew he was not wrong. No one knew you better than him. “But I think that's a caramel macchiato with hazelnut cream.”

Lips slightly parted in surprise, you stared at him. 

“M-maybe.” You muttered, taking a sip yourself. “But I still don’t think it’s the exact same-”

“Yeah, it might not be exact.” Jun shrugged nonchalantly. “Not like I’m lactose intolerant or anything but I felt like taking it with oat milk today.” 

The cup nearly slipped from your hand. You were lactose intolerant. You always took your coffee with oat milk. 

Choosing not to tell him that, you simply continued to stare at the busy crowd. Jun let out an inward sigh of relief knowing he had earned the place to sit next to you. 

“Y/n…” Clearing his throat, he corrected himself. Baby steps Jun. “Ms. Y/n I uh actually wanted to apologise about that day.”

You turned to him, eyebrows slightly furrowed. 

“I had actually just gotten out of the hospital that day and I don’t think the anesthesia wore off completely so I was apparently just going around and…. proposing marriage to various women.” 

You raised your eyebrows like you didn’t believe him. 

“It’s true, I spent the whole day today saying sorry to every business owner on this street…. And drinking the same coffee order as them. I think I’m going to have a tough time in the bathroom tomorrow….” 

Scoffing, you turned away from him and if Jun didn’t know you better, he wouldn’t have known you were hiding a tiny smile. 

“Again I’m really Ms. Y/n, I wish that didn’t happen and that we could have a fresh start. I was really looking forward to having coffee here.” 

Letting out a deep resigned breath, you stood up, chugging the last of your drink. Tossing the cup in the bin, you turned to him, clasping your hands before you politely, giving him a small smile. 

“Mr. Wen Junhui, welcome to Lonely Hearts cafe. We’re a small business that opened just a month ago so we’ve got some really good deals on coffee and cake. We even have a Valentine’s day event - you get to share a table with the person who has the same drink as you. I hope we see you around.” 

Returning your smile, Jun got up, giving a small shrug. “That Valentine’s day event is interesting - I would love to… be seen around.” He chuckled, holding his hand out. “It’s nice knowing you Ms. Y/n.” 

Glancing at his outstretched hand, you slowly took it, wrapping your fingers around it. Somehow on the cold winter day, there was a strange warmth radiating between the two of you. 

“It’s nice getting to know you too Mr. Jun.” 

3rd February 2025 

“You know, you don’t look like someone who enjoys coffee.” 

Jun turned at the sound of your voice, finding you right beside the door he just walked in. You had a tray in your hands and an amused smile on your face. 

“What makes you say that?” 

“The face you made yesterday?” You laughed as you walked in, Jun following behind you. “I’ve never seen someone look so disgusted while drinking coffee.” 

Jun suppressed a smile as he leaned against the counter. “Oh so you were watching me.” 

Rolling your eyes, you walked towards the machines. “I happened to see.” 

“The one yesterday was just too sweet.” He shuddered, recalling the taste. “My taste buds were dying.” 

“Well obviously it was sweet, it’s caramel.” You pulled out a piece of cake, putting it on the counter as a waitress walked over, taking it. “Did you expect it to taste like Malatang?” 

Oh Jun would love some Malatang right now. 

“No, but something told me your coffee would taste much better than that one.” 

You chuckled, pulling up a cup. “Is that going to be your order for today?’ 

“Nope.” Jun shook his head. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.” 

“What I’m having?” You frowned, confused. 

“How else will I be able to share a table with you?” 

Jun could tell you were holding back a smile. “And why would you want to do that?” 

“I thought coffee with a side of conversation would be nice.” 

“I’m working.” 

“I’ll wait.”

“I only get off at 5.” 

“I’ll wait.” 

“And then I need to head straight home.” 

“I just need 10 minutes.” 

You raised your eyebrows like you were trying to figure out what his intentions were. Meanwhile, he looked at you determined, like he’ll wait for a lifetime, if that’s what it took. Sighing you pulled out a piece of cake and set it before him. Then changing your mind, you quickly swapped it for a couple of lemon biscuits and slid it to him. 

“They’re on the house.” 

And with that you tightened your apron and walked away, leaving Jun staring at his favourite biscuits on the counter. 

“Do you need any help?” 

You looked up from the table you were cleaning at Jun who was still here, his coat discarded, cheeks flushed red and eyes tired. 

“I have staff Mr. Jun.”

“She left.” He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Told me to inform you.” 

“Huh.” You frowned. “She always stays till I close for the extra ten I hand her every day.” 

Jun remained silent, looking away.

“You paid her.” 

“I was just helping her go home fast.”

Sighing, you straightened yourself, crossing your arms. “Okay what is it, what do you want?” 

“I told you, a conversation.”

“Well that’s what we’re having right?” 

“Right…” Jun cleared his throat, unsure how to frame his sentences while you continued to look at him expectantly. When he didn’t say anything, you rolled your eyes and continued cleaning up. 

“I was thinking…” You held out the tray, making him quickly free his hands to hold it as you began stacking plates and cutlery on it. “You’re a woman.”

“Are you doubting it?” Frowning, you walked over to the trash can, Jun right behind, struggling to balance everything. 

“No! I mean I wasn’t thinking if you were a woman, more like I was thinking since you’re a woman and I’m a man….” 

Jun trailed off completely lost about where he was going with this till you relieved him of the weight in his arms, placing the tray in the sink. 

“Mr. Jun,” You untied your apron, tucking it on the rod of the drawer. “You only have 10 minutes.” 

“Okay okay.” Jun recomposed himself, watching you pack up your things for the night.  Looks like he just had to get straight to the point. “Yes I have 10 minutes right now, but my worry is, we only have 10 days.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“It's Valentine's in 10 days….” Jun muttered below his breath trying to gauge your reaction. 

“Are you…” You narrowed your eyes at him unsure. “Is this your way of asking me out?” 

“No god,” Jun groaned, running his hands through his hair. “I swear I planned it so much better in my head-”

“Don’t.” 

And with that one word, you crushed everything. All the hope, the longing, the yearning.  

“Look Mr. Jun, normally I wouldn't go into the details but I don't want you to think I'm blowing you off but about a month ago, I got a Memory Wipe. I lost the last ten years of my life and I’m still trying to come to terms with how much things have changed.... I’m just not ready for any kind of commitment.”

“But….” Jun blinked at you confused. “You smiled…”

“Sorry?” 

“Yesterday and today…. I thought, you might also…” 

“Mr. Jun.” You sighed, donning your jacket, zipping up. “You’re a good looking man, you’re sweet and I can tell you’d be a good conversation but I didn’t mean for it to be more than that. I just assumed it would be some harmless flirting.” 

“I don’t want it to just be harmless flirting.” Jun shook his head. “I want something more. I like you and I want to-” 

“Like me, why?” You looked at him confused, grabbing your bags. “We’ve barely spoken more than 5 sentences to each other.”

We’ve been in love for more than 10 years Y/n. 

“I can’t explain it, it just…. feels right.” 

“Well I can’t function based on your whims and feelings, can I?” 

Jun stood frozen as you turned off the lights and opened the door, stepping out. Grabbing his jacket he followed you, watching you lost in thought as you locked the door before you turned to him. 

“Look, you seem like a nice guy and I’m sure you’ll find someone. It just can’t be me, I’m not in the space for it.” Adjusting the bags in your hands, you shot him an apologetic look.  “I’m sorry Mr. Jun.”

And with that you walked away, your figure moving further and getting smaller as cold winds returned to the city. For some stupid reason, Jun hadn’t anticipated this - he didn’t think about the possibility of you rejecting his advances. He just assumed the two of you would fall into the comfortable pattern of dating each other and everything would slowly return to normal. Your disappearing self was telling him otherwise….

No. 

Jun couldn’t allow this to happen. He couldn’t lose this chance.

“Wait!” Pulling his jacket over his shivering body, he ran to you, half tripping on the way. “Wait, please.” 

And you did, looking at his panting, coughing self standing in your way, trying to catch his breath. Searching your bags, you handed him a bottle of water but Jun ignored it, looking at you questioningly. 

“If whatever happened to you a month ago, didn’t happen, would you agree to go out on a date with a guy like me?” 

“I….” You looked around confused. “I don’t know.” 

“Do you have any other reason not to give us… to give me a shot?” Crossing his fingers, Jun tucked his hands in his pocket. “Any other reason to say no?” 

“Not really, no.” 

Bingo. 

“I’m sure the aftermath of the Memory Wipe hasn't been easy but life won’t stop just because you want things to pause.” Gulping he looked at you expectantly. “Look Y/n I too am in a space where things are difficult where I want to hit rewind, but I realised maybe it’s better to hit restart and I want to try that with you.” 

“Jun I…” 

“Here’s my suggestion, just hear me out.” He clasped his hands, ignoring the cold drafts. “Give me 10 days, just 10 days to change your mind about us. I know I can do it, I know I can make you see I’m worth it, that we’re worth it.” 

“You’re really not going to take no for an answer are you?” 

Jun shook his head, his face falling. “No I…. I don’t want to force you. I was just suggesting-”

“What if I’m not convinced in 10 days?” You sighed, looking at him unsure. “Will you leave the idea of ‘us’ behind and not pursue me anymore?" 

“It won’t come to that-” 

“If it does.” 

“If it does,” Jun took a deep breath. “Then you’ll never see me again. I promise.” 

And with that you went silent, like you were considering it. Jun prayed to all possible forces in the universe - please say yes, please say yes, please say yes. 

“Okay.” You agreed, slowly nodding your head. “You have 10 days. If I’m not convinced, then on the 10th day,  we’re done and we’re never seeing each other again, deal?” 

Smiling on the inside, Jun ignored the little victory lap his head was doing. “Deal.” 

“And you’re sure this will work?” 

Phone against his ear, Jun nodded confidently.

“Positive.”

“What if you’re just setting yourself up for heartbreak again?”

“I’m not.” Jun rolled his eyes. “I know I can get her back. This time I’ll be better-” 

“Haven’t you noticed?” Minghao voice was filled with caution. “She’s somehow not the same. The Y/n you knew was a hard core, cut throat lawyer. This Y/n is a barista who sells coffee and the idea of love.” 

Jun hummed in thought. “Maybe. But deep down, she’s still my Y/n and I’m her Jun. I know her better than anyone else, I can do this-”

“And if you can’t?” 

“Then I’ll live with it. But I can’t let her go without trying.” 

“And what if it still doesn’t work?” 

“I don’t want to consider that possibility.” 

“Jun be realistic. How on Earth do you plan on convincing a woman who thinks you’re a complete stranger, is struggling with her amnesia, and more importantly doesn’t want any commitment, to date you?” 

Jun sank into his couch, staring at the ceiling.  

“I have no idea.” He confessed.

“Exactly, what if things get worse for you-”

“Can you just for once be a tad bit more positive?” Jun sighed. “Look at the bright side of things. Like for example, Y/n knew I didn’t like coffee-”

“-you make the most disgusting face known to mankind when you drink it, anyone would know-”

“-and she knew I like malatang-”

“-you’re Chinese Jun. I think that was a safe guess-”

“-and she knew lemon biscuits were my favourite dessert.” 

This time Minghao went silent. 

“Nothing snarky to say?” 

When Minghao continued to keep quiet, Jun frowned, sitting up. 

“Hao do you think she… remembered?” 

“That’s not possible....” 

"You don't sound as sure as last time." Jun noted.

Minghao let out a deep breath, like he was frustrated. “Theoretically, a memory restoration is not possible but hearing you I.... I can't tell for sure - we're also still not done with the clinical trials so I cannot exactly negate the possibility."

"So,,," Jun's eyes widened. "You're saying there is a chance she might remember everything?"

"A really really small chance.....” Minghao emphasised. "Or it could just be that since Y/n has known you for ten odd years, some her actions are just reflexive - ingrained in her subconscious after years of habit." 

"But you're saying there's a small chance she might remember me again?"

Minghao sighed. Clearly, his friend wanted to just hear one thing.

"Yes. Perhaps if she's repeatedly exposed to you or to something of her past, she might remember certain things again-"

"Enough to make her want to come back to me?"

"I cannot promise that-"

"But I can try." Jun whispered, the cogwheels in his mind turning. "I have to try and Hao, I think I know exactly how."

"How-"

Cutting the call Jun tossed his phone aside and quickly grabbed the box he had stashed below the tea table, opening it. He ran his fingers again through all the memories you had saved, a small smile forming on his face.

Jun had 10 days to win you back - that meant he had 10 chances to remind you of all the good days the two of you shared. 10 memories he could recreate, ones that you yourself had stored in this very box. 10 ways he could prove 'us'..... was truly worth it.

And just like that, Wen Junhui knew exactly how to make you fall in love with him all over again. 

You stared at the photo hanging on your wall, arms crossed, eyes slightly damp.

You look so happy,....he looks so happy. 

Just like he did when you agreed to give him 10 days to woo you. 

Sighing you tore your eyes away and stared at the ground, blinking the tears away. 

“Just 10 days," You whispered, voice shaking. "….. and all of this will be over.” 

A/n - This fic is tbh very long and overwhelming so I thought its best to have it out in parts? I hope you enjoyed this part and stay tuned for the next too! Thoughts in comments and reblogs are very much appreciated my loves <3

[riki-dazed]

Best friends can kiss, right? -- PART 1

3:00 AM -- Finding Hope · part 2 · fluff · wc: 792

"I'm so tired," You sigh, watching Riki search for another song on the computer that he's currently sat in front of.

The both of you had spent the last couple of hours together in his personal studio, turning the tight space into a full blown karaoke room. All that you hoped for tonight was that no one would come knocking at the door, considering that Riki already had to sneak you into the company building.

Your body falls backwards against your sofa, yes, your sofa. The tiny, barely-seats-two one that Riki had cramped into the corner of his studio, just so you'd have somewhere to sit, or sleep on, when you'd visit him. You loved that about your best friend the most, his overly thoughtful and sweet nature. To Riki, your comfort and happiness has always been at the top of his priorities list.

Your gaze stays on Riki as you watch him scroll through one of his spotify playlists, your head resting on your arms in which are slumped over an armrest. Eliciting a hum of approval, he finally decides on a song after a few moments. The slow, soft melody that engulfs the space causes your eyes to flutter closed. It was a familiar sound, one of your favorites. You hear your best friend humming along to the tune, the sound of his soft tone further pushing you into a sleepy trace. It's about time the both of you finally took a second to calm down, to breathe.

Baby, it's three AM, had you on my mind...

"Here," A deep voice cuts you out of your trance, you blink your eyes open, "Lean on me, it's comfier,"

You glance over your shoulder towards the direction where the voice was coming from, suddenly finding Riki's body sat beside yours on the little sofa. You give him a small smile as you pick yourself up and off the uncomfortable armrest, you nuzzle yourself into his side. His body's warm, the fabric of his hoodie soft against the skin on your face.

He smells good, too.

"We should probably go home soon," You murmur against him, your eyes closing shut yet again. Who knows what the time must be, though, you're too comfortable and cozy to even care about it at the moment.

"Later," The boy beside you replies, his voice barely above a whisper as his hand snakes its way around to the side of your waist. He pulls you into him.

You nestle closer into Riki, enjoying the warmth of his embrace, and the comfort of his presence. Every other irrelevant thought within your mind fades away as you focus on the soft music playing through the speakers. The feeling of contentment envelops the both of you.

Cause baby, if I find a way, I'm sure of it, this love won't stray...

"..just give me a chance to say I love you, and I need you, now are you here to stay," Riki sings along quietly, his deep voice is as soft and as smooth as a cloud.

Despite the late hour, you have nowhere else that you would rather be than right here.

Wanting you more and more, I can't help but think of what we could be...

Without a single thought behind your actions, the lyrics suddenly cause you to lift your head off him. As you meet Riki's gaze, you find yourself getting lost within his sharp eyes, seeing a reflection of the emotions swirling within your own chest. Neither of you exchange a single word, yet a silent understanding engulfs the space between the both of your bodies, a mutual recognition of something unspoken, yet deeply felt. You feel the weight of the lyrics echoe within your mind, and stomach, in the form of a hundred butterflies.

As you continue to scan your best friend's face, you see a vulnerability in his expression. It's as if he's laying bare his soul before you, offering you a glimpse into his unspoken feelings.

"This feels dangerously intimate," You murmur out of the blue, the sudden seriousness had caused you to almost start feeling awkward. You and Riki were barely ever a serious pair when together, you needed to lighten the mood somehow..

Riki can't help but shake his head over your sudden remark, he lets a chuckle escape his lips. You smile at his heartwarming reaction, yet you can't shake the feeling that had just engulfed you moments prior.

You can't help but realize that perhaps the both of you had been dancing around the edges of something more profound than mere friendship.

"Best friends can kiss, right?"

Your eyes grow wide as Riki catches you completely off guard with his sudden question, your smile drops off your face.

...

Copyright © 2024 riki-dazed. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green, part 30

masterpost

It was easy to see why a super hero powered on the sun was from Kansas. Danny had spent more time outside over the last few days than he had in years. Miss Martha had started joking that Danny was turning into a lizard by the way he had taken to lounging on any warm surface if things were still for more than a minute. He couldn’t really deny it either; his favorite spot was the metal roof of the barn.

“Brother!” Damian called from somewhere down below.

“I’m up here!” Danny shouted back.

“Yes, of course you are,” Damian said, the words more a grumbled aside than anything.

(Danny thought that Damian was a little sulky about not being able to fly like him and Jon could.)

(But Damian was way better with the animals, so.)

A little bit later the doors on the hay loft opened, followed the sounds of Damian climbing up onto the roof. Danny stayed right where he was and waited for Damian to settle next to him.

“What are you even looking at?”

“The clouds,” Danny said with a little shrug and wave towards the distant thunderheads.

“Why?” Damian said, as incredulous sounding as he ever let himself be.

“Because it’s fun to see things in them.”

“…is this a ghost thing or have you fallen off the roof and hit your head?”

Danny laughed.

Damian scowled.

“Nope. It’s just, like that one there, to the right of the really big one,” Danny pointed. “It looks like stegosaurus.”

“…right, so you have fallen off the roof and hit your head.”

“Hey guys!” Jon chirped as he floated up over the edge of the roof. “What are you doing?”

“Cloud gazing,” Danny said at the same time as Damian said, “Engaging in delusions.”

“Oh sweet,” Jon said and sat down between Danny and Damian. He always seemed to like that, to wedge himself between the two of them so that he was touching both of them. “Oh, that one is totally a boa constrictor who ate an elephant.”

Damian turned to give Jon such a look of being done that Danny dissolved into laughter again. Danny didn’t think Jon got why he was laughing, but that never stopped Jon from joining in. The sounds of their trailing giggles were a distinct contrast to Damian’s long suffering sigh.

“Why do you enjoy being up here so much?” Damian asked, eventually. He didn’t lay down like Danny and Jon but leaned forward onto his knees.

Danny hummed back in question.

“Both of you can fly. You can be so much higher than this roof with ease,” Damian said, “so why do you enjoying being up on a roof like this?”

“Oh, well, it’s like you being up on the Manor roof, isn’t it?” Danny asked after a moment.

“I can’t fly, Brother,” Damian said as if Danny had stupidly forgotten that.

“Duh, but you swing. You can’t fly but you can fly. It’s some of the same reasons you like to be on the Manor roof even though you can be up on top of skyscrapers,” Danny said. “The Manor roof is somewhere safe.”

After a moment, Damian gave a little noise of understanding.

“And also,” Danny continued, “I miss the sun. I didn’t get to see it for so long that I think I’m still making up lost time. The sun here is closer to the type of sun I used to remember. It’s different in Gotham with the clouds and smog and ocean.”

“You can always come here!” Jon said. “Ma and Pa both like you so they wouldn’t mind. Like, if you need sun like this, you can come here.”

“I can’t just show up here,” Danny said, even though the offer made him smile.

“Sure you can! Seriously, they love you already. I can totally tell because of what they got you for your birthday.”

“My what?” Danny asked. It wasn’t his birthday, his birthday was in—oh. His new birthday. Annalise’s death day.

“Wonderful job, Jon,” Damian bit, more harshly than Danny thought was really fair. “The party was supposed to be a surprise.”

“I never said there was a party!” Jon argued. “You’re who just gave that away!”

“Birthday presents, or so I have learned, necessitate a birthday party where family is involved.” Damian said.

Danny thought it said more that Damian had to learn that fact.

Jon huffed. “Ma and Pa aren’t Danny’s family! Though, like, okay, they would have totally adopted Danny if Bruce hadn’t so that might not be the best argument ever.”

“How about I just pretend that neither of you mentioned a present or party or anything,” Danny said, hoping to cut off any arguments. Even though Danny secretly thought that they enjoyed arguing with each other, when Damian and Jon got going they really go going. It was getting late enough that Danny wanted to head it off before the argument was the rest of the night.

Jon snapped his mouth closed before cautiously saying, “That would be easiest.”

“Tt. Fine, that will work,” Damian said.

Danny nodded definitively. “Good. Now come on, Dami, tell us what one of the clouds look like.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“N—”

“Come on, Dami,” Jon urged.

“Just one,” Danny bargained.

“One cloud,” Damian agreed after a ridiculously long pause. After an even longer pause he pointed to a cloud with the tiniest of smirks and said, “That one there looks like a cloud.”

Jon and Danny both booed so loudly Clark came out into the porch to see what was going on.

(There may have been a cow tipping incident early on in the visit that Danny blamed Jon for.)

(Mostly.)

---

AN: Big time skip this chapter! But it gets us to the last parts we need to cover~ This = the first part of chapter 19. I think we will have a short epilogue after this chapter.

[sugarushwriting]

cherry popper aftermath

hesseung x reader

adult content featured

it’s been about a week since you let popular playboy and fuckboy lee heeseung take your virginity. and every since then you couldn’t stop thinking about him—mainly his dick.

“just ask him to be your fuck buddy.” your friend shrugged nonchalantly.

“i can’t just do that, can i?” you asked, your fork playing around your food.

“of course you can! pretty sure it won’t be the first time he heard it from a girl.”

your heart sank thinking about the other girls he’s been with and possibly have the same arrangement with. would he want another? would he want you?

his words stuck in your mind, but obviously he only said that because he was so lost in the moment fucking you, right?

you sighed. “i guess i’ll ask the next time i see him.”

and that day came sooner than you thought. literally the next day. but you were least expecting to run into him at the senior citizen center you volunteered at.

“heeseung?” you squeaked, playing uno with a resident as he came up behind her.

“hey,” he greeted your name with a big smile. “surprised to see you here.”

“i could say the same thing for you.” you mumbled and heeseung laughed.

“didn’t think a playboy would like to spend extra time around older people?”

“not really.”

“oh mr heeseung is the best. he flirts with all us women here like it’s his job.” the woman, elena, said with a smile.

“well don’t tell the others, but you’re my favorite miss elena.” heeseung replied smoothly.

elena smiled, probably enjoying having a young, handsome guy flirt with her openly.

a resident assistant came by to tell elena it was time to gather in the dining hall as dinner was about to be served.

“you two youngins behave now.” elena pointed with a smile and walked off.

you and heeseung were left alone. “what do you usually do here other than interact with them?” heeseung asked.

“i usually help in the stock room.” you replied.

heeseung held out his arm, signaling for you to go on and he’d follow.

you walked down the long carpeted hallway to the stockroom that was near the kitchen. as usual, the stock room was empty of people, but full of cups, blankets, pillows, and other things usually needed.

“i usually just take notes of what’s low and what can wait to be ordered for a while.” you told heeseung, grabbing a notebook you kept in there.

“what should i do?” heeseung asked, shocking you to the max.

“um, you can refold the blankets and towels? they do get quite messed up with the assistants going in and out at a fast pace.”

heeseung nodded and got right to work while you did the same with your task. you both worked in comfortable silence, each of you taking hidden glances at each other.

more so heeseung taking in sneaky glances of you while you worked. he loved the way your jeans hugged your legs, but even more so, loved how your shirt was the opposite—baggy and worn out. definitely opposite of clothing he seen you in at the party.

the party where he took your virginity. and ever since, he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. even when his dick was in another girl, he only thought about you.

let’s say, since you, he’s only been with one other girl and he accidentally moaned out your name.

he’s been to himself since then. he urgently went to his friend and roommate jay, actually terrified that he was only thinking of you.

“either you like her for some reason or you want her as your sex buddy only.” jay stated to heeseung. “it could also be because you took her virginity and you have a virginity or corruption kink, weirdo.”

“don’t call my kinks weird.”

imagine to heeseung’s surprise seeing you here, just after he told himself he would try to work up the courage to ask you if you wanted to fuck again.

heeseung knew most girls had high sex drives, they were just easier at hiding it.

heeseung cleared his throat, you looked up to him with a weird look. “yes?” you asked.

“oh, um, i had a question.” he said with a stutter.

the lee heeseung, nervous? no way.

“go ahead.” you nodded politely.

heeseung took in a deep breath, annoyed with himself as he was being nervous. “would you maybe want to fuck again?”

that caught you off guard. “oh, well—,”

heeseung cut you off, “i mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to. i mean, i just, i had fun with you at the party you know, and wouldn’t mind doing it again.” he rambled.

you chucked, heeseung looked at you ears going red. “i’m not laughing at you, i promise. i, um, i was gonna sort of ask you the same thing. i told myself the next time i see you i would, but i didn’t expect it to be so soon and here of all places.” you explained.

heeseung smiled. “you want to fuck again?” he whispered.

you nodded. “i was going to ask you to be fuck buddies, since my friend said that was something to ask you.”

heeseung nodded. “absolutely.”

“it’s just,” you began, twirling the pen in your hand nervously, “i want to be your only fuck buddy in the meantime, heeseung.”

“ok.” heeseung agreed instantly. that was no problem as he’s only been able to think about you. even better, if you only wanted to be fuck buddies with him, no other guy had a chance of getting you to bed.

“really?” your eyes lit up and heeseung nodded. “oh, so, um, when do you want to start?”

“now.” heeseung groaned, putting the blanket he was folding down, and stalked over to you.

your eyes were wide with shock, pen still in your hand, the notebook on the shelf next to you. heeseung grabbed your face in his hands, and leaned down to kiss your lips tenderly.

you kissed him back, soon heeseung’s kisses becoming intense with need. he pulled away, but stayed close to where you could feel his breath against your skin.

“have you been playing with your pussy baby? you shook your head, you itching with need. heeseung groaned, “mhm baby, that pussy is gonna be tight for me again.”

heeseung quickly captured your lips again, pushing you against the nearby wall. he removed his lips, as those and his nose traced down any skin visible to him, and he got on his knees to unbutton your jeans.

“mhm, i know i wanted to eat this pussy baby, but i’m so desperate to have my cock buried in you.” he says, his forehead leaning against your lower belly, his face right in front of your jean covered lower half.

your hand ran through his hair, a smile coming to his face as he pulled your jeans down to your ankles, along with your underwear.

he teased your cunt with his tongue, but quickly got up, cursing to himself for that. you all were in a public place and could be caught anytime.

“lean down baby.” heeseung helped position your body to where is was now leaning against a shelf for support. your chest and head rested against the towels there, as heeseung grabbed your bare ass in his hands.

“heeseung,” you moaned as his finger traced your folds and clit.

“shh baby, we can’t get caught, okay?” heeseung cooed, grabbing your hair in his hands for a makeshift ponytail.

he aligned his tip with your cunt, and slowly pushed in. again, he was met with resistance and tightness, but his mouth dropped open so wide at the pleasurable feeling of you clamping around him.

he had to hold in his moans as well. you buried your face into the towels, keeping the noises from your mouth muffled.

heeseung slowly inched into you, enjoying the way you gripped him, welcoming him in. he began rocking and thrusting, your pussy making noises for him, wetness covering him.

“fuck, i love this pussy.” he moaned quietly, and picked up his pace with the thrusts. the shelves began rocking with your bodies as well, your hands gripping the other items next to you.

heeseung could still hear your muffled moans through the towels, and even got turned on from that.

his hand went down to play with your clit, your orgasm coming close.

he leaned over your back, his body covering yours. his breath tickling against your neck, as he attached his lips to your shoulder and began sucking.

his pace never faltered. “i’m close baby.” heeseung sighed and you nodded in agreement, not trusting your own voice.

soon, you both came with each other, heeseung forgetting to pull out. “fuck, baby, i didn’t pull out.” he groaned against your shoulder.

“s’fine, on the pill.” you mumbled in relief. heeseung stayed buried in you, dick still hard, as he peppered kissed over your neck, shoulder, and cheek. then, he grabbed your chin to lean your head back so his lips met yours for a few pecks.

“so good for me.” he sighed and kissed your ear, before leaning up from you, and removing himself from your pussy.

heeseung helped you clean up and pull your pants and underwear up. you now felt embarrassed at just having sex in public with heeseung.

have you had no shame?

heeseung pulled you in for a kiss. “can’t wait to get you back home to really treat your body right.”

you smiled, “can we not do it in jay’s bed this time?”

[pascaloverx]

STARVE

Summary: You lost your husband some time ago while he served as a gladiator for Emperors Geta and Caracalla. General Acacius saved you from becoming an object of pleasure for the emperors. Since then, he has taken you as his mistress. In your free time, you became a disciple of Ravi, the healer, dedicating yourself to tending to wounded gladiators. All seemed to be in perfect harmony until Hanno, a gladiator driven by a thirst for vengeance, crossed your path.

Author's Note: And the gods said: Starve will be a multi-chapter fanfiction (I hope readers will follow it all the way through). Without further ado, the characters belong to Ridley Scott's Gladiator II universe, though there will be significant deviations from the film. Historical accuracy regarding life in the Roman Empire may not always be strictly observed, so I hope you can overlook that. Yes, this story revolves around a love triangle, but I will strive to satisfy everyone. This fanfiction will include adult content, violence, and potentially coarse language. Enjoy!

one three

TWO

Days, perhaps more, have passed. You and Hanno have been meeting in secret, seizing moments when there was no sign of General Acacius. All that you were permitted to know was that he was recovering in the company of his beloved wife, Lucilla, who made it clear she wanted no trace of your presence near her husband. The absence of Acacius weighed upon you more than you cared to admit. To be denied access to him felt akin to holding your breath for far too long. Yet, your clandestine encounters with Hanno had proven to be a welcome distraction, enough to keep your mind from lingering too deeply on what you could not change.

"Your gladiator is requesting your care, Y/N. And while we are on the subject, your encounters under the pretext of physical care will soon spark rumors," Ravi remarks as he steps into the chamber where he keeps his healing tools. "General Acacius will be the first to rage if he learns of your escapades. Should Emperors Geta and Caracalla grow suspicious, they may presume you are seeking a new lover. Not to mention the possibility of Macrinus taking offense at your growing closeness with his gladiator." You remain crouched, organizing a collection of herbs, a faint smile tugging at your lips. Hanno needs you—or rather, he has summoned you for yet another session of personal defense training.

"Ravi, believe me, I am well aware of the risks I take in daring to draw close to Hanno. Yet, I choose to take them—something no one of sound mind would do. General Acacius will not always be there to save me in the future. Lucilla has made her stance on my involvement with him abundantly clear. You do not see him here, concerned for me, do you? Precisely for that reason, I must think of the future." You speak as you search for the garment General Acacius once left at your disposal, should you ever need to fight.

"Since you are so determined to take such risks, be cautious. The guards will bring Hanno to be treated, and you will have only that time to practice—whatever it is you two practice," Ravi warns, much as he does each time you and Hanno meet, repeating the same cautions.

"I shall change my attire. If you would, dear friend, make Hanno comfortable until I return," you say, rising and moving toward the exit of the space where you and Ravi have tended to countless gladiators. "If all goes well today, I shall be one step closer to becoming more than a healer or a lover. I shall be the closest thing to a warrior I can aspire to be." Ravi nods, though a hint of worry lingers in his expression. He is the closest thing to an ally you have.

Time rushes by when one is on the brink of doing something forbidden, but you no longer concern yourself with the consequences. You are resolute to take control of your destiny, even if that control is but a sliver. Once dressed, you secure the dagger Acacius once gifted you in a hidden compartment of your attire. It is your small but vital secret, and you are steadily improving in its use.

With purpose in your stride, you make your way swiftly to where Hanno is awaiting you. When you arrive, his eyes brighten at the sight of you. "I see your delay is justified; you look prepared for battle. Let us see if you can land a blow," Hanno says, advancing toward you with a predatory gait meant to intimidate.

You meet his gaze with an unflinching smile. "Save your words for when we’re truly facing off, gladiator," you reply, following him to the familiar training grounds. It is the very arena where countless gladiators sharpen their skills, preparing for the moment they will stand before the emperors in the grand coliseum.

As soon as you step into the center of the training grounds, Hanno strikes without warning. His sword arcs toward you, narrowly missing as you instinctively step back. At the start of this combat practice, both of you wield swords, though your grasp on its use remains novice.

"Have you lost your sanity, Hanno? I wasn’t ready," you exclaim, fixing him with a glare of irritation. He advances on you again, silent and relentless, as if transformed into a stranger intent on attack. His gaze is unwavering, his resolve sharp.

"When you’re defending yourself, no one will wait for you to be ready, nor will they show you mercy. I want you to see me as you would see any foe who dares strike at you," Hanno declares, his sword slashing toward you again. You react, relying on your defensive maneuvers, retreating step by step until a strategy for counterattack begins to form in your mind.

"I’m not so sure; you seem to be enjoying this far too much," you retort, timing your movements before landing your first offensive strike. It catches him off guard, a flicker of surprise flashing across his face. The gap between you narrows, charged with the thrill of the fight and something deeper, more electrifying.

"I am enjoying it just as much as you enjoy patching me up with that brute strength of yours, healer. Now, focus," Hanno says, parrying your blow with unnerving precision. It’s like a dance—each movement perfectly countering the other. You attack; he defends. He strikes; you block. The rhythm between you is almost hypnotic, an eerie harmony born of tension and skill. But then, in a risky maneuver, Hanno manages to disarm you. Your sword flies from your grasp, landing far out of reach. Now standing mere steps apart, your eyes meet, both of you breathing heavily. It feels like the end for you, so why not take a chance?

With a surge of reckless determination, you rush toward him, channeling all your strength into an attempt to topple him. In your mind, it isn’t Hanno you’re facing—it’s an enemy, someone who would do you harm. Your unexpected move catches him off guard, and he falls to the ground. By sheer luck or fate, his sword slips from his grip as well. Now, you find yourself on top of him, both of you unarmed. The air between you is charged, your breaths mingling as silence envelops the space.

"It seems I have bested the great gladiator of Macrinus," you say, pressing your body lightly against his, a triumphant smile on your lips. Hanno smirks, his hands firmly gripping your waist as he swiftly reverses your positions, pinning you beneath him with effortless strength.

"Do not be deceived, healer," he murmurs, his piercing gaze locking with yours. But you are not so easily subdued. With a practiced movement, you draw the hidden dagger from your vestments and press it against his neck, the blade gleaming in the dim light. "Your presumption is touching, gladiator," you retort, your tone both teasing and sharp.

"What will you do next, healer?" Hanno asks, his breath warm against your face. The tension between you ignites instantly, palpable and undeniable. Before you can respond, he pulls your face closer to his, his lips capturing yours with a fervent intensity, as though he means to consume you entirely. At first, you almost resist Hanno’s kiss—it feels forbidden, a boundary you should not cross. Since your husband’s passing, Acacius was the only man you had kissed. Yet, as Hanno’s tongue ventures into your mouth, you find yourself surrendering, the kiss quickly becoming mutual.

In truth, Hanno is devouring you, but you refuse to let him take the upper hand so easily. You tug at his hair with force, pulling him closer, demanding his full attention. The kiss deepens, its intensity increasing to the point of no return. You want him to feel your hunger, to know that you wish to consume him just as much. For all its forbidden allure, you crave this moment—not because of duty or obligation, but because you want it. You want to know what it feels like to kiss someone you shouldn't, to rebel against every expectation tethering you. Your husband was not forced upon you, but your marriage had been a safeguard. Becoming Acacius’ lover served a similar purpose. But with Hanno, nothing feels safe. And perhaps that is why you let this moment unfold. There is no security here, no veil of protection. If you and Hanno are caught, Acacius could kill him, both the Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla could execute you, and the repercussions would be endless. Yet, none of that matters as your lips clash with his in this reckless, intoxicating dance of defiance.

The kiss is all-consuming, so intense that, for a moment, it steals your breath. You pause, pulling away to recover the air you desperately need. Yet Hanno seems unsatisfied, his eyes locked on you with an intensity that threatens to unravel your resolve.

His hand cups your face, fingers tracing over every detail as if committing you to memory. When his thumb brushes over your lips, he murmurs softly, "Your lips remind me of hers, my beautiful Arishat." Reality strikes like a sharp blade. He is with you, yet his mind lingers on his late wife. The weight of that truth is unbearable. As he leans forward, seeking your lips once more, you push him away, creating the distance you now desperately need.

"I will not be her replacement," you think, your resolve firm. "Nor Lucilla’s substitute." Avoiding his gaze, your shame and frustration burn within you. Rising quickly, you make your way toward your quarters. You and Ravi must always be prepared to tend to the wounded, so your rooms are close to where the gladiators train and where Ravi keeps his healing tools.

"Healer," Hanno calls out behind you, his voice firm yet laced with something softer. He follows after you, refusing to let the moment end so abruptly.

"Gladiator," you say, turning to face Hanno. Your body nearly collides with his, but you take a step back, halting the chase that had ensued. "Our training is done. I think it would be wise for us to part ways now, so as not to confuse..." You pause, searching for the right word to define what you might be confusing, only for Hanno to step abruptly closer, almost closing the space entirely.

"I am not confused about anything, healer," he says, his tone firm yet sincere. "I was lost momentarily in a memory, but I assure you, I knew exactly who I was kissing." He takes another step forward, his presence overwhelming.

"The act itself is already a problem, gladiator," you reply, struggling to maintain composure under his intense gaze. "We should not have kissed." Before he can respond, both of you hear footsteps approaching. In an instant, Hanno’s hand moves to your waist, pulling you behind him as though to shield you from whatever danger may come. Ravi appears, nearly running toward you, his face etched with worry.

"General Acacius has been seen heading this way," Ravi announces, his voice hurried and panicked. "The guards are murmuring that he’s coming to see you, Y/N. I suggest we get Hanno out of here immediately, and you prepare yourself to receive him."

The mention of Acacius sends a cold dread through you. Him encountering Hanno now would spell disaster. "Tell the guards who brought Hanno to retrieve him from here," you instruct, your voice steady despite the storm brewing inside. "Hanno and I will change out of these combat garments, and I’ll distract Acacius while the guards take Hanno back to his cell. Ravi, I’ll need your speed."

Without hesitation, Ravi nods and rushes off to summon the guards. You, in turn, push Hanno toward a secluded area where he can change out of his training gear. "Change in there and wait for me," you instruct firmly. Noticing the swords in his hands, you swiftly take them from him despite his protests. With no time to spare, you carry the weapons back to your quarters while Hanno remains in the area where you and Ravi usually tend to injured gladiators. In the quiet urgency of your chambers, you hastily change your attire, your mind racing with the precariousness of the situation. Hanno waits silently, the gravity of the moment clear to both of you.

"Do you fear what might happen should General Acacius discover your association with the gladiator who recently sought his life?" Hanno asks as you enter the room where he waits patiently to be taken back to his cell.

"I do not fear for myself," you reply, adjusting your tunic with calm precision. "I fear that if you and he meet, there will be unnecessary bloodshed. As I’ve told you before, if you wish to kill him, do so in a duel—before the people of Rome. Sate the appetite of Emperors Geta and Caracalla as they watch you strike at each other in a frenzied battle for glory in the name of the gods."

Hanno listens intently, his expression thoughtful as he steps closer. Without a word, he helps you smooth the folds of your tunic, his touch deliberate yet gentle. "Will you tell him of our association, then?" he asks, finishing his adjustments and letting his hand linger briefly as it grazes your cheek.

"What is there to tell?" you counter, meeting his gaze with resolve. "Our association is no one’s concern." A smile spreads across Hanno’s face, slow and satisfied, as if your answer pleased him greatly.

Moments later, Ravi appears, his expression tense. "The guards are near," he informs, his tone clipped. His gaze shifts between you and Hanno, briefly noting the closeness between you, though he chooses to remain silent. With a small nod, Ravi turns to Hanno, gesturing for him to follow. Hanno casts you a lingering look before allowing Ravi to lead him toward the guards, leaving you behind with the weight of the encounter still pressing on your chest.

You wait patiently for General Acacius to arrive, though his delay stretches longer than anticipated. The thought suddenly strikes you—he might already be in your quarters, as he has been on previous occasions.

"Would you care to explain," his voice calls out, smooth and laced with quiet reproach, "what reasons led my beloved healer, whom I hold in such high regard, to abandon me to the care of Ravi instead of tending to me herself?" Turning toward the source, you find him stepping into view, pulling back the mantle that had concealed his face and form. His approach is measured, deliberate, and his gaze briefly flickers to the swords you had left behind without considering they might draw his notice.

"You should have sought explanations from your wife, General Acacius," you reply, your tone calm but firm, though the effort to keep it so is greater than it seems. "It was she who instructed me, in the presence of the guards no less, to withdraw from tending to your care." His footsteps pause near the swords, his attention drawn to their gleaming edges. The air between you grows heavier as his eyes shift back to yours, narrowing slightly as he regards you. You remain steadfast, though the distance you keep from him feels tenuous, as if he could close it with the simplest of steps.

"I was not informed of such a decision; I would never have allowed my care to pass from your hands to another's," General Acacius speaks softly, his tone a mixture of calm and yearning as he moves toward you with deliberate caution, yet there is a palpable hunger in his eyes.

"General, whether you authorized it or not is irrelevant," you reply, holding your ground though the weight of his presence begins to press upon you. "Lucilla no longer wishes for us to remain close. Surely, you remember that when all this began, you told me that if your wife were ever to object to our association, even if it was merely for appearances, it would end."

Your words are firm, yet the truth they carry sinks heavily into your own heart. You know now, with certainty, that the chapter of your life entwined with Acacius is nearing its inevitable conclusion.

"Those words were spoken before we became what we are today," Acacius responds, his voice steady yet filled with a quiet intensity. "Surely you know I have no intention of abandoning you." He steps closer, his gaze unwavering, his nearness suffocating in its allure.

"Do not worry for me. Your pity is no longer necessary, Acacius," you say, though the ache in your chest betrays the pain these words bring. Deep down, you have long feared that what he felt for you stemmed from nothing but pity.

"I have never pitied you," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with conviction. "Perhaps I felt empathy for your pain in the beginning, but after that—everything was real. Your presence makes me a better man." His hand reaches up to touch your face, tenderly tracing its contours as if to soften your resolve. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, an intimate gesture meant to draw you back to him, to coax you into his embrace once more.

"You owe your loyalty to your wife, not to me," you say, your voice faltering slightly under the weight of his gaze and the warmth of his touch. "We must no longer allow ourselves to feel anything beyond what is proper, Acacius." Even as you speak, your resolve weakens beneath his touch, his words a balm and a temptation all at once. He seems heedless of your protest, intent only on closing the distance between you.

"Lucilla has my loyalty, but you... you have my protection. I will not leave you unguarded," Acacius says, his lips almost brushing against yours, his voice weighted with emotion.

"Then you should know that my loyalty is no longer yours exclusively," you reply, steadying yourself as you deliver the words. You feel the sharp recoil in Acacius as he steps back, his expression hardening, though disbelief flickers in his eyes.

"I am involved with another," you continue, forcing the lie to your lips with a strength you did not know you possessed. "It may mean that I will no longer require your protection in the future." Your words are a dagger you wield with precision, for you know that to continue as his lover would jeopardize his marriage—a risk you cannot allow, no matter the desires that linger within you.

"Who would dare attempt to claim you, knowing that you are mine?" General Acacius demands, his voice edged with irritation that betrays a rare crack in his calm demeanor. His gaze narrows, his presence no less imposing, but the fury brewing beneath his words sends a shiver through you. You realize the fire you have kindled within him may burn brighter than you anticipated.

"Someone who does not fear the wrath of General Acacius," you say, your voice steady despite the undeniable pull of his proximity. You desire him, undeniably so, but you know you must not have him.

"It is clear that our involvement must end—now. Before it concludes in disaster," you declare, watching as Acacius processes your words, his gaze shadowed with an intensity that seems both pained and unyielding.

"Then let it be clear to you," Acacius responds, his tone laced with an unwavering authority, though no threat lies in his words. "Whoever dares to encroach upon what is mine will meet the edge of my sword without delay. Our bond will not be severed while either of us draws breath, Y/N. Keep that in mind." His declaration is resolute, not spoken as a plea but as a statement of his immutable commitment to you. It leaves you breathless, the weight of his words pressing against the fortress of your resolve.

"You cannot protect me forever, Acacius. Just as I cannot heal you forever," you murmur, stepping closer, your desperation palpable as though silently begging him to release you—to let you go before you both reach a precipice from which there is no return.

"Mea domina," he whispers reverently, stepping closer and pulling down the fabric covering your shoulder with deliberate care. His lips press softly against the exposed skin, lingering as if to seal a silent vow. The tenderness in his touch conveys more devotion than desire, a gesture that leaves you caught between longing and regret.

"I would die if necessary, but I will not abandon those I hold in the highest esteem. You and Lucilla are my priorities, and I will relinquish neither of you. If you place so much faith in this new interest of yours, let him come to me bearing a sword, and he shall find his end," he declares, his voice unwavering and resolute, his words resonating like a solemn oath.

Acacius lifts his hand to gently cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as his lips trace a path of soft kisses along your temple, down to the curve of your jaw, and finally your forehead. His lips linger as if memorizing each contour of your face, avoiding your mouth deliberately—a clear boundary, or perhaps his way of expressing silent reproach for the words you have spoken. The kisses feel like a claim, yet also a farewell—his way of both cherishing and punishing, of reminding you of his commitment while withholding the one intimacy he knows you yearn for. The intensity in his gaze as he pulls back speaks volumes, as though he is willing you to see the depths of his resolve. "At times, it feels as though battle is all you truly understand, Acacius," you say, holding his gaze with a penetrating look, as if unraveling the depths of his thoughts.

"I am a man of honor," he replies, his tone firm yet measured. "I will not seek out the man who dares to involve himself with you, but neither will I stand idle should he attempt to take what is rightfully mine." His presence remains close, commanding and resolute, as though he seeks to claim not just the space but the moment itself. With deliberate care, Acacius reaches out, his hand brushing your face in a touch that is at once gentle and laden with unspoken meaning. It lingers, as if he wishes to commit every contour of your features to memory.

Without another word, he steps back, retreating from your chambers with the disciplined stride of a general accustomed to carrying the weight of empires. His departure leaves the room heavy with unresolved tension, the air thick with the echoes of what cannot be spoken. Alone, you are left to ponder the tangled web of emotions and loyalties binding you to both Acacius and Hanno. The weight of your entanglement bears down upon you, as inevitable as the arena’s call to blood and glory.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

The Best Interruption.

my masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here x

authors note - seems like the perfect idea to me so enjoy huns 💗

word count - 1k

in which, harrys been in his at home office for the majority of the day, and your little one is getting antsy after not spending time with there best friend, so when he’s typing away and answering emails, they stroll into the office, crawling onto his lap.

Harry sat at his home office desk, surrounded by a sea of papers and instruments. He'd been cooped up in there for most of the day, lost in the creative whirlwind of composing new music.

And it was now nearing two o clock.

With a cup of tea steaming gently beside him, Harry's fingers danced across the keyboard as he typed out an email to his manager, Jeff. Each keystroke was deliberate, each word carefully chosen to convey his vision for the upcoming project. He glanced out the window, watching the world go by outside, a brief distraction from the task at hand.

Lost in the melodies swirling around his mind, Harry remained unaware as the door to his home office cracked open ever so slightly. His focus was firmly fixed on the task at hand, oblivious to the world outside his creative bubble.

Unseen by her immersed father, his two-year-old daughter, her dummy nestled in her mouth and her favourite baby blanket trailing behind her, ventured into the room.

With careful steps, she approached his chair, her small fingers reaching out to touch the soft fabric of his joggers.

Quietly, she stood beside him, her eyes wide with curiosity as she watched him work. She held her bottle of warm milk tightly under her arm, her little face a picture of innocence and wonder.

Finally, as if sensing her presence, Harry's gaze flickered downward, and he found himself met with the sight of his daughter standing beside him.

With a chuckle, Harry glanced down at his daughter, her giggles filling the room like sweet music.

"What are y’doing in Daddy's office, you little minx?" he teased, his voice filled with affection.

Giggling even more, his daughter squirmed in his arms, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Daddy's office fun," she declared, her words slightly muffled by her dummy.

Harry smiled down at her, his heart swelling with love.

"Well, I suppose you're right about that," he admitted, gently adjusting her on his lap. "But s’nearly nap time f’little munchkins like you."

She pouted playfully, but Harry could see the telltale signs of tiredness in her drooping eyelids.

"Nooo, not bedtime," she protested weakly, her hand reaching up to play with the cross necklace around his neck.

Chuckling softly, Harry wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close against his chest.

"Yes, bedtime, m’sunshine," he murmured, tucking her baby blanket around her. "But we can have some cuddles first, okay?"

Settling against him, his daughter nodded sleepily, her eyes fluttering closed as she nestled into the warmth of his embrace. Harry pressed a kiss to the top of her head, feeling her soft breaths against his skin.

"Where's Mama?" he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

"In kitchen," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper, a sleepy smile playing on her lips.

Harry chuckled, the sound filling the room with warmth.

"F’course she is," he said fondly. "She's always busy taking care of us, isn't she?"

As his daughter drifted off to sleep in his arms, Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight of her peaceful face. Gently stroking her hair, he whispered, "Y’my little angel, you know that?"

She mumbled something incoherent in response, her thumb finding its way to her mouth as she snuggled closer to him.

Leaning back in his chair, Harry let out a contented sigh.

"You're right, sweetheart," he murmured, more to himself than to her. “S’is nice, just you and me."

She stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open at the sound of his voice. With a sleepy nod, she spoke the words,

"Milky."

Harry's smile widened as he reached for her bottle, a warm sense of nostalgia washing over him.

"You want your bot-bot, huh?" he asked gently, his fingers wrapping around the familiar shape of the bottle.

His daughter nodded again, her eyes bright with anticipation as she watched him prepare her drink.

"Alright, m’sunshine," Harry said softly, lifting the bottle to her lips. "Here you go."

She grasped the bottle with both hands, her tiny fingers curling around it as she took small sips, her cheeks flushing with contentment.

Watching her drink, Harry couldn't help but marvel at how quickly she was growing up. It seemed like just yesterday she was a tiny bundle in his arms, completely dependent on him for everything.

Though his daughter was perfectly capable of holding it herself, he liked the feeling of being needed, of taking care of her like he did when she was a baby, so he helped her hold the bottle, and the notsalgia hit him like a train.

She glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling with gratitude as she leaned into his touch.

"Tank ou, Daddy," she murmured, her voice soft and sleepy.

Harry smiled, his heart swelling with love. "Anything f’you, m’sunshine," he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Harry didn’t know how long it had been but it wasn’t long before his little mini-me was snoozing against his chest, soft snores falling from her mouth.

It must have been about another ten maybe fifteen minutes.

"Harry, have you seen—" your voice spoke as you entered the room, but he quickly put a finger to his lips, his expression a silent plea for silence.

"Shhh," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "Look."

Your eyes followed his gaze, and as you glanced down, you breath caught in your throat. There, fast asleep against Harry's chest, was your daughter, her dummy nestled in her mouth, an empty bottle of milk resting on his desk.

A smile spread across your face as you stepped closer, your heart swelling with love at the sight of your family.

"Oh, bubba," you whispered softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your daughter's face.

Harry smiled up at you, his eyes shining with pride and affection.

"I think she wanted t’help Daddy with his work," he said quietly, his voice filled with warmth.

Your daughter stirred slightly in her sleep, mumbling something incomprehensible as she snuggled closer to her father.

"Hey," you whispered, leaning in closer to your husband and pushing some hair out of his face, "I'm sorry if she interrupted your work."

Harry shook his head, a warm smile spreading across his face.

"Why are you sorry?" he asked, reaching out to stroke his daughter's cheek tenderly.

"She's the best interruption."

[sinstear]

she won’t admit it face to face, or say it out loud but abby likes to watch. she wasn’t sure when that started, but she enjoys to watch. maybe it could have been that night when she woke up to the muffled sounds beside her at crazy hours of the morning, looking over to her left to find you slumped next to her, eyes fluttered closed, eyebrows pinched forward in a tight frown, soft breaths slipping past your lips and your hand shoved down the front of your boxers, rubbing at your clit like it was going to detach itself from your body if you didn’t fix the fuckin’ problem you had been having all godforsaken day.

but it started for her then, almost like it was waiting for the time to crawl out, and from that night, she steals little glances here and there when she does catch you touching yourself, never once owning up to the fact she enjoys watching you pleasure yourself a little too much. abby never understood the reasoning behind it, not once really taking time to ask herself why, but the following night she had found an answer. kind of, maybe? it started with her scrolling through her photos on her computer, your shared computer. you both had nothing in there to hide, right? nothing to be of surprise? wrong.

the more she scrolled, the more her breath hitched in her throat at the series of photos, photos that were of her, she didn’t have to click on them to know that the messy blonde hair, glossy eyes, and swollen lips were her and once she clicks the small arrows, pulling her to more and more pictures, her eyes widen and her cheeks flush a deep red when she’s scrolling onto a sudden video and the sound of her breathless whines and whimpers ring out from the speaker, she’s done for.

“christ,” she murmured, eyes glued to the way her body trembled beneath yours. her eyes can’t leave the way your fingers thread through her hair, tugging her head back, growling incoherent words against her ear. abby’s fascinated with the way your free hand always manages to pull her back hips and back against your cock, whimpering out about how badly you wanna make her a mama, fucking into her harder with a harshness that was still laced and intertwined with your gentle and caring side.

she was quite literally watching a video of herself getting fucked into the mattress by you.

“s’prettiest pussy ever, hm? takin’ me like the good girl i know you are.” in the back of her mind, she remembers the smug look on your face, the lick of your lips, and the innocent question, “can we record it the next time? want you to see how pretty you look when you get fucked” that fell from your lips. abby didn’t hesitate to agree, but somewhere she forgot that you asked that. “baby, do you know where i put my—” abby scrambled to close the lid of the laptop, slightly struggling, and almost dropped it on the floor when she heard your voice. “are you good?” you chuckled, eyeing her up closely. 

“y..yes m’good. what have you lost?” abby hopes and prays that you don’t catch onto what she’s doing, but you’re moving closer to her by the second and once your hand is grabbing the laptop, her eyes go wide and she’s reaching up for it. “no!”

 “stop being a brat, what are you hiding— oh.” the sounds of her moans and a mixture of your grunts and growls fill the room again, and this time abby is shrinking back into the couch trying to save herself the embarrassment of being caught by you. “see you found my little gift to you then. do you like it?” you’re smirking, placing the laptop in the middle of the coffee table and sitting beside her. both sets of eyes on the laptop screen, shamelessly watching. “i think you look breathtaking,” you murmured, twirling a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

“i love it.” abby breathed out, squirming around more beside you. “yeah? i think you wearing your cute glasses would have made it even better but you always ‘lose’ those, so.” “i can find them for next time.” she choked out, the feeling of your hand dragging up her leg and squeezing the fat of her thigh with a guttural hmm had her gasping softly and practically curling herself into your side.

“next time? doesn’t need to be a next time when i can fuck you like this right now, my girl.” 

“please?” abby fucking whimpers at your question and nods her head quickly. 

“yeah? want me to fuck you like i fucked you last night? split you open on my cock, make you a mess, and see how many times i can make your pretty pussy cum? might be a new record with how fast i can make you cum lately. just a cock drunk slut, hm?” your hand squishes her cheeks together and you grin at the elicit whine you pull from her mouth. “yeah, course you want that, all you need is your mouth and pussy stuffed to stop being a brat.”

[juletheghoul]

vita nova

a/n: So. This is a big one lol. It’s not the end of their story, it’s just a different chapter. I still welcome any and all requests for them, taking place before, and after this chapter. These two have become so important to me and a lot of you and I am so happy to delve into any aspect of their lives. (for the ritual, I borrowed heavily from one of my favourite shows but added my own little twists. Things I thought would add to the story.) This takes place directly after the last chapter and I’ve incorporated a few of the asks into it, hopefully you enjoy. Can’t wait to see what you all thought!

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, body worship-Marcus gives his girl a nice massage, *FEELINGS* Huge shift in their relationship, grief, deals with loss (miscarriage), talks of infertility, ancient religious practices (physical examinations)- let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 7.6k (😅)

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist series masterlist

--

His fingers reach out and slide across the apple of your cheek.

“I’d like to hear you speak my name.” It’s not an order, it’s a statement and for a moment you’re lost. “I can see the conflict on your face. This is not a test, there is no punishment, I would hear my name on your lips, it is something I desire greatly.” He sits back, waiting for your wits to catch up.

“I do not wish to cause offence, you are my Dominus, and I will obey but never have I been commanded to do this.” Your hands shake a little, and you know it is partly with trepidation, partly with a feeling that is too big, too impossible to contain.

He smiles, not unkindly and he persists, a fountain of patience.

“I am not commanding you, I am asking you.” He takes your hand in his, and presses it to his lips. When his eyes meet yours again there is something in them you don’t think you’ve ever seen, something that looks like devotion. 

Although nude, although still feeling the spectre of him between your legs, never have you ever felt so naked, so exposed as you do under that look.

“Marcus…” it’s a whisper and he smiles, eyes focused on your mouth. 

“Yes, I do like the sound of it in your voice, I would have you call me by my name.” He pulls you forward, guiding you to sit on his lap. “I would call you love, if you would let me.” He presses his lips to your neck, his hands a comforting sweep from your neck down to your hip. 

It feels as though you’re in a dream. This cannot be the same Marcus you were sold to years ago. This cannot be the man that left to smother the rebellion, this man is someone else, someone softer, someone sentimental and it is hard to reconcile the person you’d come to know, and the creature that holds you close. The person who skims his nose across the base of your throat.

“I have thought a lot about what is truly important to me when the wound was fresh and death felt close enough to carry me off, and it is not glory. It is not the whims and wants of the Emperor, it is not the worship of the men under my command or the amount of coin I have earned by slicing through the battlefield." There is a fire in his eyes, burning with the words he speaks almost angrily.

"It is this. It is my home, and the comfort of your embrace. It is waking up of a night and feeling you holding onto me, seeking me out for warmth. It is the sound of your laughter when I make a jest, when you cry out in pleasure when I take you.” He frowns, sighing as he confesses something you had not known you’d been hoping and praying your whole life to hear. 

“I do not wish to be your Dominus, I wish to be more, I wish for you to be more. I wish for you to be mine, truly mine as I am yours.” 

“But I am yours Dom—“ he winces but you catch yourself, swallowing the lump in your throat at his words, “—Marcus. I am yours. Mind, body and soul, I belong to you.” 

“I own you, as I own all of those who serve under the name of Acacius. I wish for you to be here with me because you desire it, not because you are beholden to me.” His eyes search yours for comprehension, just as yours search his for the truth in his words.

“You wish for me to love you, truly love you not just as a happy slave loves their master, but as a woman loves a man?” Your fingers twirl a curl near his neck, something to focus on so you don’t go mad with joy.

“Yes. Is this something I could hope for? Is this something you could feel for me? I have been known to be a man of few words, and I know of my reputation. I am well aware of my dark moods and of my brutality. On the battlefield I am all that and worse but that is not my true heart. I know that I am older as well, but I could be a good man to you-“ you press forward, cutting off his words with a kiss. That he would think you don’t already love him is absurd. 

“Does this mean yes?” He presses his lips to yours again, softer, his arms holding you tighter still.

“Yes. I am sure that I am dreaming but if that is so then it is the best dream I have ever had and I never wish to wake. I care not that you are older, you are already a good man to me, better than any have been before. When you ask me to stay with you, to lay with you, to sleep beside you my heart swells, to think that you would feel for me even a shadow of what I feel for you is enough to sustain me for the rest of my years.” It’s more honesty than you’ve ever given and he drinks the words down like a man dying of thirst. 

“Then you are free. I release you from my service. You are yourself, a free woman and I invite you, I beg you to stay here with me. To live in this house and share with me all that I have.” Your jaw drops and he smiles wide, gifting you with a rare glimpse of the dimple in his cheek. 

“I have nothing to offer you Dom-Marcus.” You shake your head, annoyed at how difficult it is to drop the title and call him by his name. 

“I have no dowry, no father to broker any kind of union-“

“I have no need of a dowry. I have more than enough coin to sustain this house, and anything you may need or want.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, his eyes lighting up with mirth and happiness. 

“You really wish to have me here as more than a slave?” You run your fingers through his whiskers, smiling when he turns his face to press his lips to your palm.

“Yes, I wish to have you here with me, to share this life with me and to let me love you, let me be a good husband to you. Let me spoil you, my love.” He pushes you back so you both lay on his bed, tucking you in under his chin to hold you close.

The word husband, the word love makes your head feel as light as a feather. That you would go from a mere slave, to the wife of the General and favoured son of Rome is almost laughable. And so you do. You laugh, harder than you’ve ever laughed in your life. Your belly aches with the strength of it and it’s with a smile of his own that he inquires as to the source of your mirth.

“This must be a dream, I will wake up in a moment, and laugh about this. Only in a dream would you speak so openly about marrying me. Only in a dream would I swiftly rise from slave to the wife of the General of Rome.” You kiss his chest, “when I wake you will be my Dominus once more and I will just be your girl.” You smile at him, but he gives you a sad look.

“This is not a dream my love, and you will always be my girl, but not in the way you think. I will have the papers drawn up for your freedom in the morning, and we will discuss a wedding should you want one. If you wish to simply live our lives intertwined then I am happy to oblige you, although a formal marriage would make things easier.” 

The smile lingers, but the levity of his words sinks in, he is serious. 

“This is real then. You desire me as more than I am and I am truly free…?” You pull away, leaning on your elbow to watch his face. He nods, his hand rubbing at your shoulder, then your arm before it settles on the curve of your hip. You bite your lip, curious.

“If what you say is true, and I am indeed free, would you let me deny you? If I wished to leave on the morrow, and seek my fate outside this house, would I be permitted to do so?” You watch his face and he frowns, letting out a deep sigh. 

“If you wished to leave at this very moment, I would send you wherever you wished to go, with a heavy heart, a full purse and tears in my eyes.”

“You truly mean this then, I am free to do as a please, and you truly love me.” You press closer, tucking yourself back under his chin and take in the comforting scent of him, cheeks aching with the strength of your smile.

“Yes my love, I truly mean this. Will you stay?” Hearing him call you his love releases a whole army of butterflies in your belly. 

“Yes, I have no wish to be anywhere else. I have no wish to be with anyone but you.” You rise up, a thought striking you with a momentary fear. “But what will people think? You are the General and I am but a slave, you have scores of noble women vying for you, the ear of the Emperor and friends of proper birth. Not to mention the matches you’ve denied, Lavinia-” You spit out her name and he laughs a deep laugh, pulling you close once more. 

“What people think is their business, not mine. I care not about them, or Lavinia, you have nothing to worry about, it is you I want. No one else.” He strokes at your back again, lifting your knee to drape around his hip. 

“I have my hands full with you as it is, I must be mindful of my love's greed for me, hm? How am I to give any of my attention to anyone else when you seek to keep me for yourself? Did we not discuss this before my love? Don’t I belong to you?” He shifts, and settles between your legs and all at once the craving for him hits you like a boulder. 

“Yes, this is true, you do belong to me.” You pull his lips to yours, channelling all of your devotion and love into the kiss, your body responds to him quickly, as does his. His cock hardens against your belly and it’s with a moan that he adjusts himself and slips inside the mess he’d already made not moments before the conversation had began. 

“This little cunt is the only one I want, the only one that makes me harder than stone and the only one fit for the gift of my seed.” He raises one knee for leverage but keeps his pace slow and steady. 

“I only want you, Marcus-” His name feels so forbidden in your mouth, but the look on his face at the sound of it urges you to moan it. His movements are languid, he is in no hurry to bring about his end and you savour the feel of him deep inside, the sound of your name, your true name in your ear, the feel of his hands clutching at you as though you’ll float away. 

“Gods above, the power you have over me, woman.” He burrows his face into the crook of your neck, his thrusts turning into a slow grind and the pressure against your clit is just right, just enough to stoke the already raging fire steadily building in your core. 

“I’m already so close Marcus, I’m so close–” Your fingers clutched at him, and his steady, unabashed moans in your ear only push you closer and closer to your flutters. 

“Later, I will use my mouth again, would you like that?” He bites at your ear and you nod frantically, whispering a repeated chant of yes, eyes closed tight. “Soak me, I want to feel this little cunt gushing on my cock and in my mouth-” He reaches down and slips his hand between you, swirling around the sensitive button and shoving you into your peak with a deep groan. 

He shoves himself in deep enough to hurt a little and you feel the spurt of him filling you again. With a hiss, he rolls his hips still, pushing past the point of discomfort to watch his seed spill out around himself. 

Later, when the house is silent and you are curled up beside him swimming in the euphoria of his confession, another thought occurs to you. One that dumps an entire basin of ice cold water onto your warmth.

“Marcus, may I ask you something?” His breath is steady, and for a moment you think he might be asleep, but his hand moves from its place on your leg, stroking softly as he mumbles a sleepy hmm?

“What of children?” You drew patterns onto his chest, a nervous gesture because this was something you’ve never discussed with anyone.

“What of them?” His breath tickles at the crown of your head. 

“I—I do not think I can carry them. If we were to marry, you would have none to carry on your name.” This will be the true ending of the dream you think, he will rethink his madness and take back the freedom he’s given you. He will take back his declarations and marry another. The servitude you can handle. You’d enjoyed your life here. The love, the affection however, that you cannot handle being stripped of.

“Why do you say this?” His thumb sweeps across your skin, soothing.

“I have lain with others before, you yourself have filled me more times than I can count and it has never taken root, despite my blood coming every moon’s turn.” You’re thankful for the darkness then, the idea that he might be displeased with you over something you could not change would break your heart in two.

“Do you want children?” There is no anger, no disappointment in his voice, and for that you are grateful. It coaxes you to be completely honest.

“I haven’t given the matter much thought. In other houses where I served I took measures to never be with child for fear that it would be taken away from me, to be sold off while I remained. I feared for the mood of whichever Dominus I served, some were married and I couldn’t know how the Domina would react to a child being of her husband by a slave. I felt blessed that it never came to that.” You took a deep breath and let out a deep sigh. He listens, his breath even and calm, his heart a steady thump under your ear. 

“Then when I came into your service and we began our trysts, I was less prudent about my measures. I thought surely it would happen, with how often you gave me your gift. But the Gods have seen it fit to deny me the option. Being a slave, I thought it best.” He strokes at your leg draped across his middle. 

“You have not answered the question my love.” His tone is gentle, but firm. “Do you want children?”

“I do not know, but if I am correct and cannot give them to you, will you still want me to share this life with you?” It is a miracle your voice does not break asking the question. a few heartbeats pass, and your own pulse races, hopeful, and terrified.

“I want you regardless of any children you can or cannot carry. Being a soldier means playing a game of chance with death. I have been truly blessed, and have not fallen in battle and yet I think it would have been harder for me to be the man I had to be if I had a child pulling at my thoughts. I am old enough to have come to terms with the truth that I might not ever be a father, and I have made my peace with it.” His hand slides up the curves of your body, feeling it’s way across the map of your skin, a map he has memorized and lands on your chin, tilting it towards him to find your lips in the dark. It is a soothing press and it does much to calm the melancholy in your heart. 

“This does not change my love for you. This does not make me reconsider or rescind anything I have offered. If you find that you do want children after all we will deal with the matter then. Whether we have to find a medicus to advise, or a servant of the Gods to guide us, or make sacrifices–whatever the price, I will pay. Does this calm you?” He presses kisses to your cheeks, his lips wet with the silent tears that streak down your face. 

“Yes Marcus, yes.” You press your face into the crook of his neck and weep, letting go of the last vestiges of fear that had clung to you, before the great mouth of sleep opens up and swallows you whole. 

-

Marcus was never one to sit idle. His word was his bond and the next morning found you asleep in his bed, well past the hour you’d been expected to rise and go about your duties on a normal day. 

With a slight panic in your chest, you move quickly to find and tend to him, almost knocking over a tray filled with fruits and bread, soft eggs and freshwater. The panic swells, someone else had tended to him and he had not eaten. Flashes of his declarations fill your mind but it seemed like a dream, some wine-fueled madness and without his face there to greet you it is hard to feel like any of it was actually real. 

You find him in his study, brow furrowed and buried in a stack of parchment. When his eyes raise and find you, they crinkle with happiness. 

“I expected you to sleep a little longer, I kept you up.” He smiles, quill forgotten and it’s with a slight trepidation that you step forward, unsure how to refer to him but he is quick to see the turmoil on your face. “Did you eat? I had food brought to you–I would have broken my fast with you but I wanted to start the paperwork for your freedom.” 

“It wasn’t a dream then, it really happened?” He frowns for a moment, almost hurt but he lets out a sigh and beckons you closer. 

“Apologies D–Marcus–” You stand between his legs, hands on his shoulders and he shakes his head to forestall your apology. 

“You have nothing to apologize to me for. I can understand that it is difficult for you to suddenly stop feeling the way you have felt in this house, but I need you to know that you no longer serve me. You are equal to me in all things. This parchment–” He taps at the one closest to him before pulling you to sit across his lap, “-proclaims it. I feel it here–” He brings your hand to his heart, the steady thump of it pressing at your palm. 

His eyes search yours, a vulnerability you had only ever seen in them during the worst of his injury shines back at you. 

“I would implore you to remember it, feel it, know it here.” His hand presses against your chest, your slightly wilder, racing heart jumping against his hand. 

“Yes Marcus, I will remember it.” His lips press to yours, lingering, tasting, trapping your bottom lip in an unhurried but wholly reassuring kiss. 

One of the other slaves comes in, interrupting your embrace.

“Apologies Dominus, Domina–I will come back.”

“No need, what is it?” He smiles at the look of shock on your face, but holds you tight to him.

“The food is yet untouched, shall I dispose of it?” The shock at the new title freezes you in place. The implication that he had already informed the house of his decision to free you, of the new order of things only cements the idea that he is truthful in his declarations. The slave is another woman, older than you and it feels almost wrong to have her refer to you this way. 

“Would you share the meal with me, my love?” He presses a kiss to your shoulder, asking instead of commanding, and it takes a moment for your wits to catch up. You nod, unable to find your voice.

“Bring it here, we will break our fast while I finish my work.” He sends her off with a nod and you sit, silent still. “You will adjust.” His voice is soft, understanding and you sigh. 

“Will I? Seems so strange, just yesterday I was on the other side. Do not misunderstand me, I have never felt joy like this in all my life. I am full to the brim with love for you, but freedom is a foreign concept to me. I will need time.” Your fingers thread through his soft curls, mind racing at how quickly things have changed for you. 

“It is a big change, but you have all of the time you require. Once we have broken our fast, we will go out and find some more appropriate clothing for you to wear.” Your eyes widen again and he laughs, not unkindly. “My love, you cannot wear these tunics anymore, much as I love how easy it is to undress you, they are not for the lady of the house to wear. From now on you will dress as a proper Roman woman, a wife and the lady of this house, your house.” He smiles and you let out a breathy laugh, the insanity making you dizzy. 

“Gods above. This is madness.” You laugh, the absurdity of it all filling the entirety of your body, until the door opens again and the food is placed in front of you. 

“Dominus, Domina, if that is all?”

“That is all, you may tend to your other duties.” He dismisses her, and together you eat.

-

The clothing is hard to get accustomed to, surprisingly enough. It is of the highest quality, of that you can be sure but it is so much heavier than your tunics, the utilitarian square of cloth was practical and comfortable. It was made for the working people, to be unencumbered while you fulfilled your duties. 

You shift, feeling slightly awkward as you hold the fine fabric to your body. 

“How do you feel, my love?” He smiles from his place on his chair, watching with an amused smile as you fidget in your new robes. 

“The fabric is… very fine.” You turn to face him, holding the smile to your face despite your discomfort. He laughs, not unkindly. 

“That is not what I asked you, how do you feel in them?” He rises and closes the distance between you, his big hands landing soft upon your shoulders. You sigh, instantly calmed by his touch. 

“I do not know how I feel. It is perhaps the finest thing I have ever worn but how am I to move? How am I to…” Your voice trails off, frowning at his patient expression. 

“How are you to fulfil your duties? You have no duties, except sharing the running of this house with me. I know, it is a lot to adjust to but you will, I promise you.” His lips press to your forehead, and you nod.

-

The news of his union spread throughout Rome like a wildfire. 

Gifts arrive, seemingly from every corner of the empire. Baskets overflowing with fruit, wine, fine cloth, dates and figs and flowers of every colour. Jars of honey, beautiful pottery, and a whole stack of letters. 

Part of you fret over how people truly saw things, beneath the veil of courtesy, but as the months go on and the reception to your union to Marcus is mostly accepted with good grace, it is easier to fall into your new role; your new life. Marcus is true to his word, the whispers, the looks of others as you step out together are nothing to him. He pays no one any mind. No one but you. 

Sitting beside him, having his big hand dwarf yours as you listen to him make conversation with all manner of proper Roman citizens is strange to be sure, his reassuring touch though, his kind eyes make it bearable, make it almost normal to be amongst such elevated company. The most difficult thing to get accustomed to is being served. 

Your eyes always drift to whoever is pouring for you, or serving the food you eat, begging them not to resent you for your elevated status. He squeezes your hand then, guiding you softly back to him and away from the worry. 

- Months pass - 

The women tut at you being in the kitchen, again. You shine your brightest smile while skirting around them, piling a small plate high with figs and honeycomb.

“Domina, I beg of you, let us tend to you!” A rather matronly woman who prepared meals and ran the kitchen sighs, defeated yet hopeful.

“Apologies, I could not wait and since I already know my way around—“

“Do not apologize! This is your husband's house, your house! Let us do what we do, go on and tend to him.” She gently, but firmly shoos you out of the kitchen, a smile on her face despite her exhaustion of your antics.

You smile around a bite of fig, the craving for them so strong that you’d found yourself in the kitchen before your own attendant could catch up with you. She follows you, no doubt exasperated until you dismiss her. Your relationship with Marcus has progressed naturally, ordering people around however, still did not come easy.

“Those look delicious.” He smiles, finding you as he comes out of his study.

“They are the best this season I think, I came to share them with you.” You offer a smothered fig to him, feeding him from your own hand and he accepts it happily. Your body comes to life when he licks the honey from your fingers. 

“I think you are right.” He takes another, smaller one from your plate and eats it whole, “I must procure more, you have been really favouring them of late.” He presses a sticky kiss to your mouth, guiding you through your halls to sit in the breezy peristyle.

“I have, more than any other time. I want for nothing else in truth. Nothing else is sitting right at the moment.” You laugh, smiling around another sweet mouthful. 

“I can think of something else, something I would love to cover in honey and devour.” He presses soft kisses to your neck, hand sliding down your arm before palming at your breast through your robes. You wince at his slight grip, and he moves away, frowning.

“Did I hurt you my love?” He searches your expression, worried his strength and desire for you had gotten the better of him.

“No no, I am just a little sore. I think my blood may be upon me, it is a little late.” You kiss his cheek, but his eyebrows raise. For a moment, he is quiet, staring at you and then the plate of figs.

“How late?” His hand drifts lower, landing on your belly and for a moment something inside you clicks, eyes widening in stunned surprise.

“Oh!” You stare down, feeling the way he held you and sudden hot tears spring to your eyes. Your hand presses against his and something huge, something you had not known you held inside bubbles up. “Gods, I do not know!” An almost maniacal laughter escapes through the tears and still, he holds you. 

“I will call for a medicus, we should know for sure but aside from that, how do you feel?” He holds you close, big hand pressed to your womb while the other rubs soothingly at your back. 

“I have no words! I am shocked, and overwhelmed. In truth I do not know, this could be nothing but a little lateness I know, but the cravings have been so strong, the soreness, my eating habits, the desire for you—“ he laughs, good natured. 

“Yes, you have been insatiable of late, much to my delight.” He presses his lips to your temple. “This is something unexpected, but welcome. I am beyond joyful to think you might carry our child even now.” He smiles, his eyes shining with truth.

“I confess I am happy too, I did not think it possible, perhaps the Gods have blessed us, Marcus.” You all but tackle him in a hug, figs forgotten in the warmth of his embrace. 

“I pray it is so.” You whisper into his ear, fear that you may be wrong tinging the edges of your words.

“As do I, but if we are wrong, there is nothing wrong with it just being the two of us.” He pulls away, his hand cupping your cheek to look you in the eye.

“Hear me now my love, nothing will change if we are wrong.” You nod, praying deep in your heart that you aren’t. 

-

The medicus did his examination, and jubilation bloomed throughout the house. At long last, his seed had taken root. 

Never had you seen him so happy, never had you seen him shed a tear and yet he does. He held you as tightly as he could, without causing you pain and cried his joy into your skin. You both shed happy tears, holding each other and basking in the glow of knowing that soon, a child would be born of your love. 

It was still early, and the medicus provided Marcus with a list of precautions, instructions on how to prepare your body for what was to come. He recommended rest, and solutions for the nausea that might afflict you. He gave Marcus oils to rub on your belly as it swelled and suggested foods that were suitable and healthy. He took them seriously, and did as he was told. 

The joy was not to last though. 

The Gods had not blessed you, and your child bled out of you not a week later. 

Marcus did not show it, but you could feel his devastation. The pain in his eyes, to see your lost, heartbroken expression was enough to rival your own. He held fast however, unwavering in his love, solid and stoic while you fell apart in your shared bed. The only soundtrack being your soft cries, and his gentle reassurances. 

Those were the darkest days in your life, the depths of your despair at the grief such a contrast to the joy of carrying his child, the fruit of your union being so unfairly ripped away had left a mark on the both of you.

It also brought you closer together. 

Months passed, and then an entire year, and while exceedingly happy in your union, the loss had awoken a want that you hadn’t felt before. The desire to carry a baby, to see a beautiful child with his eyes, or his hands. To see the both of you on their face, and know that there would never be a child so loved.  

-

The silver in his hair glints in the candlelight as he splashes water on his face, already undressed and prepped for bed. The strength in his arms, the breadth of him, the smooth golden skin you were free to touch and caress taunting you as you lay in your shared bed. Your eyes track errant droplets of water as they slide down the planes of his chest, much like your tongue had done on more than one occasion. 

“Marcus.” 

“Yes my love.” He wipes at his face, blowing out the candles before slipping in beside you. 

“I want us to try to have a child.” Your hands slid across the soft skin of his belly, sliding up to trace the map drawn out by the water. “I know we will need help, but I want to try.”

For a moment he is quiet, pensive and the trauma of what happened fills the space between you, until he pulls you in and presses his lips to your temple. 

“I will find someone to guide us. I will do everything in my power to give you what you desire but I must know that you will be content, should the Gods choose to deny us once more.” His tone is gentle, yet firm. You could see it then, the misery of not accepting the fact that maybe children just were not in your future, it was not fair to either of you to dwell if it did not happen. 

“If the Gods deny us, I will drop the matter. I do not wish for us to suffer, not with how happy you make me.” You tuck your head under his chin, and he holds you tighter still, all of him such a comfort as you have ever known. 

“I pray they reconsider, and that we are successful, but if they do not and for the rest of our days it is just you and I then I am beyond happy. You are all I need.” His lips find yours in the dark, and despite the nerves fraying at the thought of failure, you smile into the kiss. 

-

He wouldn’t tell you how much it cost him to summon the priestess. All he did was smile, wave his hands and say never you mind, no matter how many times you asked him. It had to be considerable, judging by the way her dark halo of hair is adorned in what looks like a crown, by the way her face is painted in gold, her robes dripping in jewels and glass beads. 

Your teeth chew at your bottom lip as she arranges her various bottles and statues of the Gods she served across your table, her attendant placing different bundles of herbs and dried powders within her reach, grinding away at a fine powder in preparation. Marcus sits next to you, his hand in yours as you wait with baited breath. 

She turns to you fully then, coming closer to inspect you. Wordlessly she take your hands within hers, and studies your palms. Next she take Marcus’ hands, and studies the lines she sees there as well. 

“How often do you engage in intercourse?” Her voice is deeper than you thought it would be, soothing and confident. 

“Often. Many times a week.” Marcus answers for you, a furrow of concentration on his brow. 

“And seed has never taken root?” Your gaze follows hers to the acolyte at the table, a nod is exchanged and a pinch of something is added to a bowl, followed by a dark liquid. 

“Once.” It comes out as a croak but you push through, “but the baby was lost soon after.” His hand squeezes yours, reassuring. 

“Have you been with other men?” She gives a sidelong glance at Marcus, unsure whether you will answer truthfully. 

“Yes, before our union. It never resulted in anything.” 

“Then it is the womb we must tend to.” She nods again, a command you cannot parse and more elements are added to the bowl. “We must ask the Gods to reconsider the gift they’ve withheld.” She adds another pinch of something to the bowl while the acolyte moves about the room. 

“Remove your underthings, and lay back. I must inspect the physical form to make sure your body is suitable for the carrying of a child.” She gestures, and you do as she says. Shimmying out of your bottom layers before laying on the chaise, Marcus shifts so that your head rests on his lap. Your heart races as she approaches, spreading your thighs with warm hands. 

Your eyes find his, and his hand holds yours tightly as she does her inspection, uncomfortable and a little awkward, but painless. 

“The vessel is suitable, we will pray Juno accepts our plea.” She dips her hands into a fresh basin of water to cleanse before bringing the bowl to you. A dark, murky liquid swirls within it, smelling of wine and earth, summer rains and overripe fruits. 

“Drink.” She nods, and you do as she says. The taste is slightly bitter, slightly acidic but you swallow every last drop. 

“I pray that Juno has blessed you. You must copulate within the hour, but the body must be honoured.” She speaks directly to Marcus now.

“This is a ritual, you must worship her, as though she is the goddess herself. I will leave anointing oils and a candle with the flame of life. The seed must be in place before the flame goes out.” She takes a candle from her attendant, the shape of it a bit of a shock when it’s placed in your hand. It’s the shape of a man’s cock, smaller than Marcus but impressive nonetheless. 

“We will leave you to it. Use the oils on her skin, on your hands, on every part of you that meets with every part of her...” She raises her eyebrows, saying what she means without being vulgar. 

“Gratitude.” He nods as she gathers her things quickly, leaving you with your heart in your throat, and a flutter in your belly. 

The sun is low in the sky when he guides you to your bed. The candle burns as he gently strips you of your robes, his hands careful, purposeful. A shiver runs through you, crawling down the line of your spine when he gets you down to your skin, naked as the day you were born in the soft golden light. Your hands move to undress him, but he circumvents you, pressing your hands to his lips in quiet denial. 

“You, my love, are to be worshipped. I will do the work.” Love swells inside you for him, just like the arousal flows syrupy thick throughout your limbs. 

Wordlessly he leads you to the bed, arranging you comfortably on your front as he straddles your thighs. The oil is neither hot, nor cold when it hits your lower back. His hands though, they are warm and solid, so big they span wide enough to cover a large swathe of your back at once. You melt into the bed as his hands work the oil in, sweeping from your lower back up to work the knots out of your shoulders, pulling involuntary moans with each pass. 

He stiffens against the swell of your ass, and his hands move towards it as he does. He massages the globes of your backside, his big hands spreading you open for his gaze and it only rockets the arousal higher and higher, your slick pooling at the mouth of your cunt as the oil slips down towards it with every pass. His lips press to your shoulder, as his cock, hot and hard slips along your skin. 

“Turn for me, on your back my love.” 

It’s so hard to move from your place, your body feels like it’s become part of the bed. For a moment, the urge to ask him to take you just like this fills your mouth, but you ignore it and comply. The dying sunlight adorns him in gold and it pulls a smile from your lips, his beauty, his strength, his love shine brighter than the sun itself. 

More oil pours down from the bottle in his hand, pooling in the well of your belly button before he dips in and spreads it across your skin. His eyes focus on his hands, working the oil in soothing circles at your womb before moving up and spreading the warm slip of it over your breasts. 

He focuses there a while, kneading at the pliant flesh, letting it spill between his big fingers, flicking and circling your nipples until they stiffen, hard as pebbles. Your heart races as he pinches and pulls at the peaks of your breasts, the soft moans and liquid arousal slipping out more and more as he continues his thorough worship. 

He moves down, opening your thighs and draping them over his own where they press up against you. He slips between your spread legs, fitting himself in the cradle of your hips. His cock is so heavy it barely bobs, resting hotly on your soaked cunt. His hands slip down your thighs, more oil drips from his fingers onto your skin. From your knees up to where you need him most. 

“Marcus, please-” You whine, so aroused, so wet the ache of it hurts. He tuts softly, a playful, lust blown smile on lips as he cups your cunt with one big hand. “I need you, I need you inside me.” You pout, tilting your hips up into his hand. He lets you, grinding his palm against your core for a moment before he pulls away and then he pours the oil on himself from high on his chest.

It’s like he’s casting a spell, the oil drips down the golden expanse of it towards the dark patch of hair at the base of his cock. 

He rubs the oil across his chest, down over the soft belly and finally lower still, stroking at his cock with ease as he readies himself to love you. He is a weapon, oiled and ready to rut so like the gladiators you’ve seen in the arena, shining and powerful as they prepare to fight for their lives. 

There will be no fight here though, only the wet, open invitation of your cunt as you lift and spread your legs wider, resting your feet on his thighs to make it easier for him, tempt him into finally giving you what you so desperately want; no, need.

More oil drips onto where you gape for him, you bite your lip, eyes flicking towards the candle. Already it had burned half way. 

The slip of his cock against your cunt feels like a blessing from the Gods, and when he slides inside to the hilt, it’s like a homecoming. It is the sight of him triumphant after a battle, it is the early mornings when you rise before him and bask in the sound of his deep, even breaths. It is the feeling of his lips on your shoulder at night, it is the sound of your name in his mouth and devotion in his eyes. 

His big hands hold onto the meat of your hips with a slippery grip as he drives himself forward, filling you just like you want him to. His eyes flit from where he spears into you, up to the way your breasts bounce with every heavy thrust. Never have you felt so beautiful, with the oil shining on your skin, with his hands on you, with his cock deep inside, with the taste of your climax on the tip of your tongue. 

He moves his hand down as if to cup your cunt once more but his fingers trace the lips of your sex to feel you stretched around the girth of him. Your mind buzzes like the wings of a bee to feel how he touches you, fingertips gliding against your swollen little clit, driving you to madness with lust and love for him.

You need him closer. 

You beckon to him with open arms and he falls on you like he’s been knocked down. His mouth claims yours in a messy, vulgar kiss. 

“Fill me Marcus, love me, make me yours.” Your nails curl into his waves, legs gliding around his waist to lock above his backside. Warm, slick skin slipping against warm, slick skin.

“You are mine my love, all mine, and everything I am is yours, all fucking yours—“ he groans, thumb swirling at your clit, around and around and around until you burst like a ripe berry under him. With an obscene moan and a wet squelch, you take him down into the depths of pleasure with you. 

He swells, hard as steel before pulsing spurt after spurt inside you, filling you to the brim. 

He does not move, and neither do you. 

His weight does not bother you, and when he tries to spare you from the heft of him you only dig in your heels. 

“I do not wish to smother you, I am quite bigger-“

“I like it, stay.” You hold on tighter, relishing his huff of laughter before he indulges you. In the almost holy afterglow, nothing could be more important than to be surrounded by him, filled by him. To have his body covering yours, his softening cock inside, his taste in your mouth and his seed deep in your womb.

“I pray that this has worked. That we have honoured the Gods and that they bless us.” He shifts slightly, only enough to look you in the eye. “But if they have not…nothing has changed. I would still be the happiest man in all of Rome, in all the world to share this life with you. Just you.” His words are a warm fan across your face, a warm bath for your heart, a soothing remedy for a nervous belly and you drink them down as such.

The candle is forgotten, the priestess a distant memory, all that matters is him.

You cannot trust your voice, and so you nod. With watery eyes and a trembling smile. You nod. 

-

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