absurdthirst · 5 months ago
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The Empress and the Gladiator {Gladiator!Pero x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 14.2k
Warnings: Fingering, oral sex (male and female receiving), loss of virginity, star crossed lovers, mentions of war/death, vaginal sex, mentions of sex workers, rough sex, blood/gore, death, animal cruelty, gladiatorial games, pregnancy
Comments: Destined to become Empress of Rome, your heart has always been Pero Tovar's. When your father decides to host an gladiatorial tournament with your hand in marriage as the prize, Pero becomes the gladiator you are rooting for in the colessum.
A/N: With Gladiator 2 coming out this year, thots turned to Rome. While reader is Empress, no physicality has been described other than 'Roman'.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
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|| MasterList || Pero Tovar MasterList ||
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
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“Pay attention.” Your tutor, Maximus, tuts as you stare out of the doorway to the courtyard. Your scrolls are messy on your table and the breeze through your hair makes you long to be outside and not studying the gods. You hear the clashing of swords and watch as Pero Tovar fights his mentor, a man named Julius, while his mother tends to your needs. His mother is your matron, taking care of your needs like your own mother would if she were still alive. After her untimely death when you were born, your father had brought in a matron while he searched for another wife. He’s had two more since your mother’s death but he claims to be cursed as both women also lost their lives during birth…and their babies. The sole child of the Emperor of Rome, you are in line to be Empress. Something that has never happened. The man you marry shall be by your side and your father had petitioned the senate to allow you to rule, for him to mold you into the perfect leader for the next generation. The senate had agreed and now, you spend your days learning about Seneca and Cicero instead of painting or strolling the gardens. You have been taught to read, you know the laws of the empire, and you have been trained in all manner of war. You are preparing to become Empress of Rome. You just need a husband. Turning your eyes away from Pero, you look back at your scrolls and continue your lesson. Little do you know that Pero is also watching you. His mother, bless her soul, was widowed by his father who fought for the empire. He lost his life in battle and the Emperor let his mother stay in the palace with her son to tend to his newborn daughter. Pero knows he will be sent to train with the army soon. He will fight as his father once did. However, he will be leaving his heart in the palace with you.
****
You walk through the gardens after your lesson, Pero long gone from the courtyard, and you are caressing a flower when you hear your name. “Why are you here alone?” Pero asks, his voice gruff and demanding, “you should not be outside without an escort.”
You huff and roll your eyes, aware of and annoyed by the fact that if you were a man no one would even question you walking alone. “I am in my own courtyard.” You turn to look at the older Spanish boy. Even if you have grown up together, he has filled out with muscle and grown taller over the past few years. “I am the future Empress and I can go and do whatever I wish.” You straighten your spine even though you know your father would not approve of being alone. Too many of his enemies would seek to use you for their own gain. You frown and look around, all the servants out of sight and no one nearby to hear you. “Why are you here, Pero?”
Pero stares at you for a moment, the moonlight reflecting on your face, and he can't help but be reminded of how beautiful you are. When your face is carved from marble and the coins are gold with your profile, he will be one of many to admire your beauty. Your moxie makes him bite his lip to smother a smile and he waits until your eyes fix on him. "I am taking a stroll. Getting some fresh air and admiring the grounds before I have to leave." He sighs, looking down at the grass beneath his feet.
“That’s right, you are leaving……” you frown at the reminder that tomorrow morning he will be leaving for the war that is being fought near Constantinople. You have spent all of your formative years around the man who you have come to view as more than a mere childhood friend. You’ve never seen him as a brother and now your heart quickens at his nearness. “Tonight is your last night in Rome,” you venture softly. “You should make the most of it. Most men would be visiting the taverns, or the whorehouses that I am supposed to pretend don’t exist.” His head shoots up, eyes wide and you smirk. “Or do you prefer the company of the men in the bathhouses?”
Pero raises his eyebrows and he offers you a wry smile, “don’t you know it all, emperatriz?” He chuckles and you snort, “I even know about Hispania.” Pero is impressed by your knowledge of the reality outside of the marble walls you wander in. It will serve you well. “To answer your question, I wish to spend my last night here since I will not be able to return. My barracks will be my new home and I will miss this palace…and you.” He confesses, his dark eyes meeting yours, “I have no need for wine or for women when what I truly want is right in front of me.”
Pero is handsome, his dark eyes seemingly even darker with the same emotion that makes your core throb and turn slick with need. You aren’t unaware of what happens between men and women, even if you are untouched. Untouched beyond your own fingers between your thighs when you lay in the dark, listening to the rustle of the wind against the curtains of your bed. “Pero….” You step closer to him, biting your lip as you inhale deeply, aware your father would have you beaten and Pero executed, but you don’t care. He could die, never to return, and you don’t want to live the rest of your life without knowing what it is like to be touched by him. “Tonight, the future empress will entertain you.” You decide, telling him boldly. “In ten minutes, climb to my balcony.”
Pero’s cock twitches under his tunic and he bows his head, “I will be in your service tonight, empress.” He murmurs, knowing he could be hung for this but it’s worth it. You are worth it. No longer the little girl who used to annoy him when he wanted to play gladiator with his friends, he wants the beautiful woman you’ve become. The oils you bathe in hit his nose and he swallows, taking a step back from you. He looks around to make sure no one saw him speaking to you alone and he strides off, knowing that you will be able to make it back to your quarters alone.
The slap of your sandals accompanies the rustle of your skirts as you hurry along the columned corridor to your quarters. Servants rush to bow, but you pay them no mind as your excitement has you eager to lock yourself into your room. Bursting through the door startles your servant, Corda. “My gods!” She huffs and you shake your head. “Fetch me a tray and wine, then you are dismissed.” You instruct her, making her jaw drop. “But-“ “No buts, Corda!” You hiss, taking a breath and smiling at her to not make her suspicious. “I know you wish to spend one last night with Gavros.” You hum, smirking slightly at her guilty expression. “Fetch my food and drink and then go enjoy yourself.” Her lover is also in the group that Pero will be accompanying to the war.
She bows her head and turns, making her way out of your quarters to fetch your tray and wine. She returns a few minutes later and sets the tray down. “Good night, my lady.” She murmurs, turning and shutting the doors behind her. The gauzy drapes are flowing onto the balcony as Pero climbs the trellis to swing his leg onto the balcony. He grunts as he stumbles but recovers to stand outside of your room. “emperatriz.” He whispers, hoping no one is in your quarters.
“Pero?” You look through the sheer fabric to see him hovering outside and push them aside to usher him in. “Come in.” You command, hoping no one saw him climb up. You don’t wish for the night to be disrupted and you know that if Corda is off gallivanting, no one should come to disturb you. Everyone is celebrating the troops leaving and you are happy that your father is busy as well. He steps inside your room and the curtain falls into place, giving you the illusion of blocking out the world. “You came.”
Pero offers you a soft smile, his hands suddenly damp. “Of course, hermosa. How could I not?” He asks you, “I am leaving tomorrow and if I don’t return, I want you to know…I want you to know that I would kneel before you as my Empress, as your loyal soldier, as your friend, and if you’ll have me, as your lover.” He murmurs, not touching you. You are pure and he could be killed for even being in your quarters.
Your body trembles at his confession, knowing that you feel the same way. He can be coarse and cross at times, but you love him. Reaching up to your shoulder, you unhook the gold leaf brooch that keeps your dress on your body. Letting it fall to the floor so you stand in front of him, completely naked. “Take off your tunic, Pero.” You command, lifting your chin. “I wish to inspect my soldier.”
His eyes widen at the beauty before him. Your body bare and his mouth is dry, his cock hardening as he takes in a sight that most mortals will never bear witness to. He kicks off his sandals and reaches for the hem of his tunic, pulling it over his head to display his naked body to your hungry eyes. He stands straight, arms by his side as he awaits your inspection.
You inhale sharply, taking in the hard planes and chiseled lines of his body. The rigorous training has taken the boy's soft body and turned it into the hard sculpture of a soldier, your warrior. He has given you the power and it emboldens you to step forward, reaching out and stroking the smooth muscle of his chest. Biting your lip when you feel it move under your hand and let it drop down to brush against the thick length that juts out proudly from his groin.
Pero groans under his breath, his eyes closing as he lets you touch him how you please. He stands still, not lifting his hands to touch you. You are in charge tonight, his soon to be Empress. You will have what you want because tomorrow, he will leave and this night will be a memory he cannot share with anyone.
“Beautiful.” You murmur quietly, looking into his eyes. “This is for me.” You don’t ask, because you know that it is. Your fingers wrap around his cock and you marvel at how hard and soft he feels in your hand. “How long have you thought of me?” You ask. “Do you think of me when you visit the whorehouses? When you sink into a woman?”
"Yes." He doesn't bother lying. After tonight, you will be betrothed to another and he will likely be killed in battle. He has tonight so he will give you everything, all he has to offer. "Every time." He confesses, knowing that he paid those women to be faceless, imagining you in their place. You jerk him and he groans, letting you touch him as you please and he prays to the gods that he holds off long enough to give you pleasure.
You moan softly, loving how he responds to your touch. His confession of thinking of you while fucking making your cunt drip. “When I slide my fingers into my cunt, I think of you.” You confess. “How you would feel, how you would taste.” You squeeze him slightly as he groans your name. “How you would touch me. You know of such things, you have touched women before. Can you make my body shake in pleasure?”
He nods, throat tightening with arousal as you squeeze him again. "I can make my Empress shake in pleasure until she can take no more." He assures you, "I have learned well from the brothels. I want to show you, emperatriz."
“I am supposed to be pure, to stay pure, until I take a husband.” You remind him. “But I will not be pure.” You let go of his cock and step back. “Because I will have given my purity to my love. The one who holds my heart.” You reveal softly.
His heart pounds in his chest and he reaches for you, grabbing your waist, and he leans in to press his lips to yours. He doesn’t want to hold back knowing he could die and never know your touch. He tilts your head to kiss you, sliding his tongue into your mouth, and he backs you towards your bed.
Now that his hands are on you, he is in complete control. You moan, reaching up and twisting your finger into the short hair at the base of his skull. You can’t do much with it, but you tug gently, wishing it was longer. “Pero…” you whimper when he breaks away from his lips to kiss down your throat. “Pero, please, make me yours for tonight.”
He grabs the back of your thighs, lifting you up to carry you onto the bed. He lays you down, the silk sheets beneath you and he hovers above you, taking you in. You’re gorgeous. Aphrodite incarnate. He leans down to kiss along your throat, his hand caressing your thigh as he settles between your legs.
You should feel exposed, vulnerable, but you feel nothing but the heat of his gaze. Again, your hands slide along his skin and you map the muscles. Knowing that tonight will be a memory that you will cherish forever, keeping it locked away in your heart. “You are so….sexy.”
Pero slides his hand along your thigh up to your breast and he tilts his head so he can dip down and take your nipple into his mouth. Your words make his cock twitch and his stomach clench, knowing you find him attractive. He loves it. He loves you. Your back arches into his mouth and he bites down on your nipple, soothing the sting with his tongue.
“Pero!” Your eyes close and your back arches up from the bed to his mouth. Every pull of his mouth shoots straight to your cunt and makes it clenches. “Oh gods.” Your leg lifts and you rub the back of your foot against his leg, enjoying the roughness of his hair.
He switches to your other breast, loving the way you cry out his name. “Shush, my love. The guards will hear you.” He warns you, pulling back from your breast and he presses kisses along your stomach, settling between your thighs. Your cunt, covered by curls, has him groaning your name. You smell like the oils you use and something tangy that has him moaning as he wastes no time surging forward to slide his tongue through your folds.
Your gasp is loud, catching your breath and making your breast shake. Your hands grip the sheets and you can’t believe that he is going this. You’ve heard about the pleasure to be had, but you’ve never thought that it would happen for you.
He flicks his tongue over your clit just as the whores had taught him. He sucks your clit into his mouth, his hands caressing your thighs and he groans at the tangy taste of your arousal. You taste like honey. He pushes your thighs further apart and slides his tongue down to push it inside of you.
“Oh fuck.” You moan, clenching your jaw before you have to lift your head and look down at him between your thighs. You had expected him to just take you, but he was surprisingly good at giving pleasure. “You should just stay and spend all day doing this to me.” You moan out the praise as your hips jerk up to meet his eager tongue.
Pero lifts his head from your cunt, his chin glistening as he smirks, “I would spend every day worshiping you if it were possible, mi emperatriz.” He assures you, sliding his tongue through your folds again and he sucks on your clit. His hand slides along your thigh until he’s pushing two fingers slowly inside of you.
His fingers are thick, so much thicker than your own. Making you whimper out his name again, drowning in the pleasure that he pulls from you as he presses them deep. “Yes.” You sigh. “I love you, Pero.”
He loves hearing you say that. His fingers stretch you out for his cock. He pumps them a little faster and leans in to take your clit into his mouth, sucking. He wants you to fall apart for him, to tell him you love him enough times to last him a lifetime because that’s what he will need.
You know that it’s wrong for you to give yourself to Pero. You should have saved it for the man who would become your husband, the man who would help you rule Rome after your father dies. You don’t care, your heart belongs to Pero and you want to give him a part of yourself you can never have back. You chant the words of love over and over as he works you up, until your entire body bucks with broken cry. Your cunt bearing down on his fingers and soaking them with your pleasure.
He loves the way you soak his fingers. Working you through it, he groans into your wet flesh. His cock is hard against the sleeping mat beneath you, and he is aching to be inside of you. He groans your name and kisses back up your body until his lips find yours and he slides his tongue into your mouth so you can taste yourself.
The taste of your cunt on his lips has you moaning, enjoying the flavors mixed tongue and you want to taste him too. “Pero-“ you whimper, making him pull away to look at you as if he wonders if you have changed your mind. “Can I do that to you? Suck your cock?” You’ve heard the servants talk about it, even watched as it happened in the shadows, but you’ve never done it.
Pero's cock twitches at the thought but he can't imagine defiling you like that. Just to touch you like this is enough for him to be killed and his soul to be damned by Pluto. "I am yours for whatever you wish, mi amor, but I must warn you that you cannot do too much otherwise this will be over far too soon." He has wanted you for so long, watched you from afar, and the thought of you touching him in that way already has his stomach clenching.
You push him onto his back as you decide to take his pleasure into your hands. “You will tell me before you find your release.” You say it like it is a forgone conclusion and lean forward to press your lips to his. Then breaking away to kiss down his chest, eager to see how he reacts to your mouth on him. If you only have tonight, you want to gorge yourself on him.
His breath catches in his chest and he watches you make your way to his cock, wrapping your fingers around it and he loves the lust in your eyes. He loves how much you want him. "Fuck." He hisses when you pump his length, the foreskin pulled down to reveal the leaking head.
You preen under his rough praise, feeling the way he twitches and pulses in your hand and against your tongue. It’s thrilling to learn that he enjoys this and you open your mouth wider to take more of his length down your throat.
You moan around him and he twitches in your mouth, loving how you feel surrounding him. You feel incredible. “Fuck, hermosa.” He grunts as you explore his cock with your mouth and tongue.
Giggling slightly, you pull off of him and decide to lick him. Making him groan again. “You must love this, all the noise you are making.” You know that he can be as loud as he wants, no one is in this wing of your home beside you. You tease him and then lick him again. “Tell me what you have imagined while a whore’s mouth is on your cock.”
Pero can’t believe how naughty you are for an innocent woman. “I imagined - imagined this. You. Your mouth wrapped around my cock. My cock inside of you. You. I wanted you while I was giving them my cock, my coin.” He confesses breathlessly as you jerk his cock.
You hum, feeling slightly jealous of them, even if you cannot have a claim in this man. He is free to do whatever he wants, with whomever. Now, you just enjoy the fact that he wants to be yours. “You have me, Spaniard.” You promise, ducking your head down to take him back into your mouth.
He loves hearing you claim he has you when both of you know you only have tonight. He groans when you take him deeper and his stomach clenches. “Hermosa. You can’t - I don’t want this to end too soon.” He chokes, not wanting to finish without making you clench down on his cock.
Reluctantly, you let go of him and kiss back up his body. “You will stay the night, yes? We can do that again after?” You know men can find pleasure more than once and you hope that he is also like those fools who like to brag about being able to rut all night.
He nods, "I will stay there night then I will go before sunrise. We cannot risk getting caught." He promises and pulls you up so he can kiss you, rolling you onto your back. "Are you certain?" He asks softly, nudging his nose with yours after he pulls back from the kiss, his cock pressing against your thigh.
“I have never been more certain of anything else.” You promise. “Not the gods or the Senate could make me change my mind.” Your hand caresses his cheek, the thin strip of a beard of his face slightly patchy with youth. “I love you, Pero. Tonight, make me a woman.”
He doesn't deny you. He can't deny you even if he tried. He reaches between you to grip his cock, pulling back his foreskin to slide the head through your folds until he is positioning his cock at your entrance. He watches you as he starts to push inside of you.
You expected pain and you expected nothing. You really didn’t know what to expect but the feeling of him filling you up is exquisite. Your mouth drops open as you moan his name again, your legs pulling back to take him deeper into your body and you know that you are forever changed.
Pero feels your innocence break and he pushes into you fully, making you his in a way no other will have you. He groans and leans in to kiss along your neck, taking a moment to let you adjust and he murmurs, "I love you."
You whine and wrap your arms around his neck. Closing your eyes and sighing softly. A piece of you is forever his and you know that your heart is his until eternity as well. You might marry for your position and have children, but your heart will be this Spaniard’s. “I love you, Pero.” You promise him. “Forever.”
Your promise makes his heart clench as he starts to move inside of you. He's in no rush. Not rutting into you like he would a whore he paid his coin to. He moves slowly, watching your face as you take him. You close your eyes as he adjusts the angle of his hips and he grunts when your walls clench around him. "Mi emperatriz hermosa." He murmurs as he kisses along your neck.
You know that he is being slow with you and it’s amazing. Making you feel every ridge and vein in his cock as they scrub along your sensitive walls. It’s love making in the purest form and you don’t want to let him go. Another soldier can go fight for the Emperor and Rome. Even if you know Pero would never agree to that, finding it to be cowardice. You have tonight. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you moan his name again. “Pero.”
Pero doesn't want to leave but he has no choice. He has no future here in the palace. He must leave and forge his own path. He has to accomplish something outside of these walls. He must fight for Rome and for the Emperor and one day, he will be fighting for you. His hand finds your thigh, lifting it higher so he can sink deeper and his lips find yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth.
Your moan is breathed into him, encouraging him. Letting him know that he is making you feel incredible. Your nails scratch down his back, not hard enough to break skin, but you wish to leave your mark on him. “Pero, gods, you- you are amazing. I have loved you for so long. Watched you fight in the courtyard and touched myself thinking of how you would touch me.”
Your words make him twitch inside of you and he groans your name, “always pumped my cock thinking of you. Fucked whores with you on my mind. You have my heart and I shall be leaving it here with you forever.” He promises, “you’ll have it until Pluto takes me.” He slides his hand between you, wanting to hear you cum one more time.
He is talented and you are lucky that he has been taught ways to please you. Making you moan again when he starts to rub the flesh above your cunt. “You take my heart with you to war.” You promise him. “It is yours, even if my body must be someone else’s, you had me first and you hold my heart always.”
Pero groans, rubbing your clit a little faster desperate to push you over the edge before he finishes. It’s overwhelming being inside of you and knowing that he will have to leave tomorrow, he is desperate to hear you cry out his name. “I’m yours, hermosa. I need to feel you.” He begs against your jaw as he presses desperate kisses there.
His words make your entire body tremble. You know your core is wound tight and the next time he plunges deep into your body, you shatter. Crying out loudly, your walls squeeze him tight and the liquid hot pleasure washes through you.
“Fuck.” He hisses as you clench down around his cock. He groans your name and tries to fuck you through it but he has held off long enough. It doesn’t take long, only a half dozen more thrusts, until he is pushing deep inside of you and filling you with his hot seed.
You close your eyes, memorizing how it feels and for a brief moment, you wish that you could have him stay and fill you up everyday until his seed takes root. Knowing that a child from Pero would be your favorite, even if he was a bastard. “Perfection.”
Pero kisses you, unwilling to move even as he softens inside of you. He murmurs your name and kisses you softly, caressing your thigh as you keep your legs wrapped around him. His heart aches knowing that this is the only time he will have you like this.
You catch your breath in the silence that lingers between you, both of you lost in your thoughts as you continue to stroke his back. “No wonder people love to take lovers.” You manage after a long moment. “If it is half as good as this, I know why the soldiers immediately go to the whore houses.”
Pero chuckles, “it isn’t as good as this because this is love making. The whorehouse’s are for fucking. This is love between us.” He knows that any man listening would hang him by his balls for being so soft but this is you and it’s your only night together. He won’t deny you how he feels when he won’t get to say it ever again.
“Oh.” You melt at how intimate it is, how romantic. It is like one of the great stories that is sometimes performed for the people. “We will never have this again, will we?” You ask practically, knowing that you could never love someone as much as you love Pero. You reach up and run your fingers through his hair. “At least we got to have each other tonight. Tomorrow you leave to fight for the glory of Rome and her Emperor.”
“And her empress.” He adds, nudging his nose against yours. He pulls out of you, groaning as he shifts to lay beside you before he pulls you into his chest and murmurs your name, “you will always have my heart. I will fight for Rome and for your glory.” He promises. 
“Fight and live.” You urge him. “I hate the ‘die for the glory of Rome’ shit. I would rather you live. Live until you are an old man, gray in your hair.” You caress his chest and press a kiss to where his heart thumps in his chest. 
Pero smiles, knowing it's unlikely he would grow old and even less likely he would grow old with you. He sighs and kisses your hair, "get some rest, amor. We have the night to enjoy before I must leave."
True to his word, Pero had taken you, again and again during the night. Rest only coming in small spurts before one of you was reaching for the other. On and on until your entire body aches with a secret hurt when the darkest part of the night passes and the faintest pink hue starts to gather on the horizon. The wine has been drunk, the food consumed and the water that is always available for you to clean yourself is dirty. Your eyes are gritty with sorrow and exhaustion as you watch your lover’s naked body begin to be covered back up as he dons his clothes. 
Pero redresses while you watch him and he kneels on the bed when he's ready to go. He leans down to cup your cheek, leaning in to kiss you deeply. "Be happy, mi emperatriz. Don't wait for me. Find your happiness however you can." He urges, knowing he could never be with you. Your father would forbid it. "I love you. Siempre." He vows and nudges his nose against yours, kissing your forehead before he stands up straight and walks over to the doorway to leave your quarters. He looks back at you one last time before he sneaks out of your chambers, unaware that his mother is watching from the shadows.
Your eyes close on bitter tears after the door closes behind him, burying your face in the sheets you had shared with him. The scent of his body still lingers and you weep for the love that you know you will never be allowed to share with Rome.
Señora Tovar prepares your tray and carries it into your rooms, finding the silk sheets rumpled, two empty goblets and an empty food tray. There's no denying what happened here last night and she is glad she has prepared a tea. "Good morning." She declares as she walks into your room. She had dismissed Corda to prepare your tray herself.
You pull yourself out of the sheets at the sound of your lover’s mother, biting your lip to keep from crying even more. “Good morning.” You manage to mumble, your voice cracking slightly.
She comes over to you, setting your tray down on the bed. "I have prepared a tea for you, chiquita. We know you cannot afford for my son's seed to take." She speaks bluntly, "you must drink this and your secret will remain between us." She doesn't want to witness her potential grandchild be shunned by society. She wants the best for her son and her family, she needs to protect you as well.
Your mouth drops open in shock as you stare at her. “I- you- you know?” You ask, practically gasping the question and she chuckles softly as she shakes her head. “It was not hard to guess when I see my son sneaking out of your room looking like a man who has visited paradise and been banished.” She tells you. “He has been in love with you since you were children playing together and I know those feelings have never wavered.” You bite your lip, chin trembling. “I love him, too, mamá.” You have called her mama - like Pero - since you were young. She had been like a mother to you, but Pero was never your brother, even from a young age, your heart skipped a beat when he was near.
She reaches out to caress your cheek, "I know, amor. I know you do. He loves you too. You are meant to be together in another lifetime. Your souls will meet in another time. You cannot pursue him. It will mean his death. Let him go and keep last night in your memory, mija." She cups your cheek and offers you a soft smile, "now...drink the tea. It will ensure you aren't with child."
You don’t want to drink it, wanting for a moment to let his seed take root and defy everyone. Looking into her eyes, you sigh softly and pick up the tea. “I would carry his bastard proudly if he wouldn’t suffer for it.” You tell her before you take a sip. “I hope he comes home. Even if it can’t be to me.”
She sighs, watching you drink it. "I know, amor. You would both suffer. You know your father would never allow it. He would have Pero killed." She closes her eyes for a moment, "one day...you'll be married with a baby at your breast and you'll remember last night but you'll be happy and Pero...he will be shrouded in the glory of Rome." She hums, "you'll meet again and when you do, you'll be different people."
You know that you will not settle. You will have a man who makes you feel as Pero does or you will not take him as a husband. “Yes we will.” You hum sadly. “He will be a general of Rome and I will be her Empress.”
*****
"You cannot continue this juvenile resistance." Your father scoffs while you sit at the dining table, servants carrying food and wine to you but you reject the food and take the wine. "I do not wish to marry a man I do not love. Do you wish for me to be unhappy?" You hiss back and your father clenches his jaw. 
"You have been a maiden for years. You should have married years ago and I am too soft. I allowed you to take your time, let you find a husband within our circles but you refuse. In the senate today, we discussed a way to ensure that the empress will have a suitable husband by her side. A tournament. I wish to have every eligible man fight for your hand in an arena."
You snort and roll your eyes. “Noble men would rather lavish their days away in the baths than fight, father.” You remind him, taking a sip of your wine. “Rome grows weak and yet you think I should marry one of them? What will they be fighting at? Who can belch the loudest?” You have had excuse after excuse to not marry, waiting for word from Pero as he is off fighting, but the years have passed and your father’s patience has given way to pressure from the senate.
"Not noble men. You need a warrior by your side. Someone who can assist you with battle strategy. You have not fought for our empire and you do not have the experience for war. You need a man beside you who can advise. You need a gladiator. I have requested the warriors of Rome to compete for your hand." He declares, "the General is particularly interested in your hand."
You grimace slightly but your father doesn’t see that. The general spends more time in Rome carousing than he does with his men in battle. You find him to be rude and demeaning, although you can never find someone nearby when he acts out. “Warriors.” You think of the warrior you would want and then look to your father. “Will all warriors be allowed, or only those you choose and rig the tournament with?”
Your father snorts, "I want a man who is battle worn and worthy of your hand. Any man can compete but it will be in the Colosseum and they will fight to the death. The hand of the future Empress is worth a man's life. He must die if he fails and you, my dear, will have the strongest warrior to be your husband, your partner after Pluto takes me."
Your brow raises at the news that it will be a fight to the death and you hum again, sipping your wine. “Sport will be had and a maiden won.” You snort, secretly pleased that you are not the maiden you pretend to be. “The crowds will love you for this, father.”
Your father hums, a smug smile on his face, "they will, won't there? We will send word to all that the best can compete for the hand of the most beautiful woman in Rome. The future Empress. May the best man win." He smirks, picking up his goblet.
****
Rome has changed since he has last been here. Pero frowns as he shuffles off the horse and groans slightly as he stands straight. He thinks of you, just he does every day and his eyes slide towards the palace where you would still be. “We got here just in time!” His friend, Octavious, slaps him on the back. “There is a tournament that will be held.” The barracks are rife with the news, every man boasting that he will enter. “The winner becomes the husband of our future Empress!”
Pero doesn't allow himself to react but he takes the scroll from his friend and reads the details. A tournament at the Colosseum - a fight to the death for the hand of the Empress. His jaw clenches and the scroll is ripped from his hand. His mother still resides in the palace caring for you. He will go see her now that he has returned and maybe he can see you. He situates his horse and makes his way through the bustling streets until he is at the palace gates. He grunts his name and he is walking through the gates to find his mother in her rooms. "Mi amor, you're home." She cries when she sees him, rushing to wrap her arms around him and he pulls her closer, holding her tight. He hasn't seen his mother in so many years and he's changed. So has she, she has gotten older but no less beautiful. "You're home." She grins, pulling back to cup his cheeks. "Mijo." She leans in to kiss his cheeks. 
"Where is she?" He asks, "I heard about the tournament." He says and she sighs, "yes. She is not happy. This has been the talk of Rome. It will not begin for a while to allow warriors to return to Rome to fight." She reveals, "she is in her rooms." 
Pero nods, kissing his mother's forehead. "I will be back, mama." He promises, knowing he needs to see you after being gone for too long. He remembers how to sneak to your rooms without being noticed and he's soon knocking on the door, heart pounding in his chest from seeing you for the first time in so long.
You sigh to yourself, almost ignoring the knock on the door. It would be Corda, having insisted that the servant wait for permission to enter your quarters if you were present. You are older and expect some privacy, a rarity here because of who you are. Setting down the wine that you had been enjoying, your sandals slap against the hard stone floors as you move to the door and open it. Making you freeze when you see a man in front of you. He’s familiar and yet so different. Darker, older and seemingly more menacing with a large and wicked looking scar bisecting his left brow. Evidence of surviving a nasty fight. The softness of youth chiseled away to leave nothing more than a fierce warrior, a man, standing before you. “P-Pero?!” You gasp, unable to believe that he is here. You know he is alive, his mother had kept you informed when she heard from him, but you are shocked by his appearance and your heart leaps with joy.
“Hola, mi emperatriz.” Pero greets you breathlessly. You’re just as beautiful but you’ve matured and you look like a leader. He offers you a small smile after a moment when you continue to stare and he knows he’s battle worn carrying scars - some visible, most invisible. “I heard about the tournament upon my arrival.” He confesses, “your father’s idea?”
At the mention of the tournament, you realize he is still standing in the doorway of your quarters for anyone to walk by and see. You know that it’s wrong, but you don’t care as you pull him into your room and slam the door behind him. He’s here. You have him back and now, with your father’s proclamation, there is a way for you to be with him. Instead of answering him, you throw yourself at him and press your lips to his desperately.
He doesn’t push you back. He’s seen war. Men die gruesomely in battle. Women and children killed. There were times when he wasn’t sure if he’d ever make it back. His hands grip your waist and he pulls you up against him, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he takes a taste of forbidden fruit.
Moaning, you press impossibly closer. Feeling the joy and passion you haven’t once felt since the day he left reigniting in your belly. You’ve not let another man touch you, remaining pure to his body alone. You know that he will have had other women but you don’t care. It had been your decision and now you are grateful that you had. Your fingers reach for the thick leather belt at his waist to untie it, not caring that he is dirty from the road, you need to touch him to make sure he is real and here again.
Pero knows he should push you away. He shouldn’t claim you again. Yet seeing you, how beautiful you are, remembering how much he’s missed you…it’s like he can’t control himself. He’s not gentle as he gathers your dress in his hands, tugging it up your body so he can caress your skin. “I missed you.” He kisses against your jaw as you push his tunic from his body.
“I prayed to Mars everyday to keep you safe.” You tell him frantically, your hands mapping his scarred body and you groan when your fingers wrap around his rapidly hardening cock. “I love you.” You declare breathlessly. “You said I should not wait, but I did. I have only been yours.” You confess. “Make me yours again, Pero.”
He groans, annoyed that you waited for him because you’ve given him hope. “I love you too. Never stopped.” He vows and guides you back towards the bed. “I’m not going to be gentle.” He confesses, his fingers sliding up your thigh until he’s sliding them through your folds.
“Don’t be.” You beg, knowing that you might be sore, but you will cherish the aches. He pushes you down onto the bed and you slide your dress up to your waist and hurry to unclip the shoulders. “I want my warrior to take the spoils of his conquest.”
Your words make his cock throb and he hisses when you expose your body. Your curves made his mouth water and he surges to dip down and take your nipple into his mouth while he settles between your thighs, gripping his cock to slide it through your folds.
“Pero…” you whimper his name, fingers digging into his longer hair and you love how you can tug on it slightly. “Tell me you didn’t marry.” You beg, gulping back a sob of pleasure when he bites down. “You didn’t find a woman while you were away?”
“I would not be here if that were true.” He assures you, “I wouldn’t betray your soul like that, hermosa.” He vows against your sternum and he starts to push inside of you. “You are still the woman I love.” He promises and you moan as he stretches you out.
Your eyes close and you feel complete for the first time in years. “Fuck.” You whimper, clenching down around him and making him hiss quietly. “That is what I have been missing.” You moan. “Move Pero, take what is yours.”
He doesn’t hesitate to start moving. No longer the younger version of himself making love to you. The desperate older man wants to fuck you, to claim you when he knows that you won’t be his to claim soon. He hisses when your walls flutter around him and he pushes deep when he thrusts back into you. His hand squeezes your breast and he nips along your neck until his lips smash against yours.
You feel the desperation and the need in his kiss, responding in kind. Your fingers drag out of his hair and you scratch down his back again as you rock your hips up to meet his frantic pace. “Pero! Oh fuck, Pero, you, harder- please, harder.”
He won’t deny you when he desperately needs this. He thrusts harder, his skin slapping against yours and his breath puffs against your skin as he pants your name. “So - so fucking perfect. Mi amor. Never stopped loving you. Fuck. I- I missed you.”
“Never stopped.” You gasped, arching up and moaning loudly. Unable to imagine anyone else touching you like Pero is. “Missed you every day. Every day.” You promise. Your body responds to his harsh thrusts and you feel your core start to clench down. Your fingers slide down to his ass and you grip it. Encouraging him as he pumps into you ever harder.
He grunts as you push him deeper and he shifts onto his knees, dragging you into his lap. His strong arms grab the back of your thighs and he lifts you up and down on his cock while he thrusts up into you. “Fuck. Fuck.” He groans, leaning in to kiss your shoulder.
You moan, wrapping your arm around his neck. Pressing your lips to his jaw as he fucks you frantically. You want this always, just him. “I love you. I love you, Pero.” You groan. “You feel so good.”
“Te amo, hermosa. I thought of - of you every day. Every fucking day I’ve been away from you.” He vows, thrusting up into you and his thighs ache but he’s desperate to feel you fall apart around him.
Every thrust pushes you closer to pleasure and you help him. Rocking down when he thrusts up, each one of you groaning and whimpering in pleasure. “I love you, I’m going to- fuck!” You cry out when he pushes deep. Throwing your head back as your cunt clamps down around him.
“Mierda.” He groans when you grip his cock inside of you and soak him. You feel so fucking good. “That’s it, hermosa. Fuck.” He pants, shifting to lay down and you shake as you shift to straddle him. “I want my Empress to ride me.” He orders, smacking your ass with his hand.
You giggle slightly, clenching down around him again from the sharp slap of your skin. Leaning forward, you press your lips to his as you start to rock your hips and moan into his mouth as you push your tongue to meet his.
He caresses your skin everywhere he can reach. Moaning your name as he watches you move on top of him. You aren’t as skilled as a whore but you haven’t done this before. Even with your hips moving a little rigid, he enjoys this far more than any whore he’s given coin to. His hands find your hips, helping you find a rhythm.
He moves you more naturally, making you moan as your tits are pressed into his face. “Pero…” your eyes roll back again and you hold tight to his shoulder as you follow his rhythm and ride his cock.
His mouth finds your nipple, sucking on it as he groans against your flesh. You’re so pliable and he loves how you take him inside of you over and over. Rocking back onto him, you let him control the rhythm and he bites down on your nipple before soothing it with his tongue.
He never wants to let you go. If he could stay in this moment, he’d stay like this forever. His cock twitches inside of you, watching as you take him over and over. His hands caress your back and he kisses up to your neck, aching to suck his mark there but he can’t, no matter how much he wants to.
“I want to feel you inside me again.” You pant breathlessly. “That feeling of your seed inside me was the best feeling I ever had.” You turn and press your lips to his, needing to be close to him in all ways.
He is selfish. If his seed takes and you marry another, his bastard will be killed. They would not allow a bastard to be the future emperor of Rome. His logic knows that it’s not a good idea but his heart and his cock desperately want to fill you up. His heart wins and he rocks his hips to thrust up into you, pushing you forward onto his chest and he wraps his arms around you. “I will fill you up. You’ll be dripping me.” He promises with a growl.
You whine his name and reach down to touch yourself, your fingers brushing against his cock as he rocks up into you. Stroking your flesh quickly as he groans your name, coming apart again with a soft cry. “Pero!”
When you clench down around him, he grabs your ass and thrusts up into you harder and faster, grunts escaping his lips as he seeks his own climax and it doesn’t take long. He hisses your name and clenches his eyes shut as he cums, painting your walls with his seed for the second time.
You moan softly, holding him tight and closing your eyes as he fills you up. The warmth spreads and makes you sigh in pleasure. “That’s so good. I love it, I love you. I want you.” You promise softly. “I- I want you for my husband.”
Pero sighs, stroking his fingers along your spine. “Your father would never allow it. Unless I win the tournament. I need to fight for you, mi amor.” He murmurs, knowing he could be killed but he has to try. He has to fight for his love.
You close your eyes, sighing softly. “Please tell me that you have become a fierce warrior?” You plead. Reaching up, you caress his face and press a kiss to the bottom of his scar. “I don’t want to lose you. I’ve lost you once before and now you are back.”
“I am a great warrior. I have survived many battles and it would be incredible to fight for a cause I truly believe in: you.” He murmurs, “I will fight for you. For us.” He vows, “and if I die…I will die knowing that I fought for us. For our future…even if I never get to witness it.” He whispers, knowing it’s a risk but how can he stand by and watch you marry someone else?
You don’t want him to fight, but if he wins, your father would have to accept Pero as your husband. “You will be the only warrior I will be cheering for.” You promise, kissing his cheeks and then his lips. “You will carry my love onto the sands and defeat all others for my hand.”
Pero nods, caressing your cheek, “for you, my Empress.”
****
He lingers in your quarters for as long as possible until his mother finds him after you are dressed. “Mijo.” She smiles, “you must go before the guards see you.” She warns and he nods, leaning in to kiss your forehead and he squeezes his mother’s hand as he passes her, knowing he cannot remain in your quarters. He must prepare to fight. “I shall prepare the tea.” His mother says and you shake your head, “no tea.” Her eyes widen slightly but she won’t argue with you.
It is a risk for you, but you don’t care. Emboldened by Pero’s return, you are ready to risk everything. “Pero is fighting in the tournament.” You hope she doesn’t get upset at you for making her son risk his life again in the deadly games. “He will win and then you will longer be a servant in this house.” You promise. “You will have your own servant to attend to you.”
His mother is not surprised to hear that her son will be fighting. She’s concerned that he might not win and she will lose her son and the woman she’s come to love as a daughter. You will not survive the loss. She offers you a smile and a nod, not wanting to voice her worry.
****
“I want to win the tournament without too many issues. You know that I am the best man to marry your daughter. Your general. I am fit for war and she will not know of the issues we face on the battlefield. You have sheltered her and she will be a weak leader. She needs a man to guide her.” Atticus, the general of three Roman army explains to your father as they sip their goblets of wine. 
“She is naive but I have trained her well in all matters. It is true she needs a man to guide her in the subject of war. Perhaps you are the best candidate.” Your father hums and the general smirks, “then shall we call off the tournament and announce our betrothal?” He suggests but your father shakes his head, “no. We must show the people of Rome that the best man won her hand. You shall fight but let me make it easier for you. Let the riff raff kill each other and you shall be a late contender. You’ll have five men to kill. Maybe less. You shall be the victor.” Your father decides and the general grins, holding up his cup, “to the glory of Rome.”
****
Pero stands with his sword and his shield in hand, helmet on his head as he stands in line. There are many men here to fight for your hand and the hold beneath the colosseum is packed full of men eager to win you and the power of Rome.
The roar of the crowds fill the colosseum and you sit under the shade as warriors file out from the catacombs below to stand in the bright sunshine to bask in the adoration of the crowds. Blood will be spilt today and you wish that none would die, but the more violent the sport, the more entertained the Romans would be. Several from the senate come to greet you, but you keep your eyes on the sands, looking for Pero. He had said he would not fight with a helmet on so you can spot him. Ever since his return a month ago, he has come to your chambers every night to tangle his limbs with yours and leave you limp with pleasure and full of his seed. Your heart is twisted with worry and hope as you wait and look for your lover. Any moment now, your father will arrive to commence the games. 
Pero remembers his promise to you to survive and win, and so he sets his helmet down before he steps up onto the sands and winces as the sun hits his eyes. The warriors line up, prepared to fight to the death for the hand of the future Empress. He’d heard many men talk about taking your innocence, leaving your blood on the sheets, and he had to stop himself from killing them before the battle and from revealing the secret he holds close to his heart. He was the one to take your innocence all those years ago. His eyes dart up to the stands where you are and his heart pounds in his chest. This is his chance. His only chance to win your hand and the approval of your father. With his blessing, you could marry and Pero would be by your side until he dies. Your eyes find him in the crowd and he stands straighter, watching your father raise his hand. The crowd goes silent and your father begins to speak. “Today, you fight for Rome, for her honor, and for the honor to be by her Empress’s side as a leader to all Romans. You must earn this privilege and if you fail, you will die. May the best gladiator win.” He nods and the crowd roars back to life when the battle commences moments later.
It’s an impossible task, pretending to be uninterested in the games when your eyes are riveted to one man. You don’t blink, don’t look away for fear of missing some small thing that could be life or death for the man you love. He is amazing, his speed and skill are obvious as he moves, his sword flashing in the sun as he cuts down his rivals.
It doesn’t take long for the first round to be over. Covered in blood and surrounded by bodies, Pero takes the chance to look up at you. You are watching intently and he knows he can’t fail you now. At least two thirds of the warriors are gone. “And now…we introduce a new element…lions.” Your father gleams with maniacal joy as the lions are brought into the arena. The crowd cheers and you gasp “no.” Pero growls, “fuck” under his breath. This just got more complicated but he will kill a fucking lion if he has to.
“Something wrong?” Your father turns and looks at you with a smirk, but you shake your head. It’s already a needless slaughter of Rome’s most capable warriors, but if you show favoritism towards Pero, you are almost sure the games will be directed towards taking him out. You don’t trust the general to not cheat and he has not even stepped out into the area yet. “The tall one.” You tell him, pointing towards a giant of a man with a golden crown of hair peeking out from under his helmet. “He seems like he would be a good husband. Provide me with strong babies to further our line.” You lie, knowing that you would never accept anyone but Pero into your bed.
Your father smirks, “he is not Roman, my dear. He’s from the west. He will not provide the line you wish to have.” Your father declares and raises his hand once again, “commence.” He orders and the warriors begin to battle once more but this time, the lions are released. Pero grunts as his sword clangs with another, the roar of the lion behind him followed by a scream of a man who gets chewed up. Pero’s heart is pounding but he fights, knowing that he can’t lose. You’ll be married to someone who would treat you like a servant when you are destined to be Empress. You need a husband who will support you.
Your heart sinks, knowing now that your father will cheat to have the man he wants you married to win these games. The servants behind you fan the Emperor and you against the heat and you know it must be sweltering down on the hot sands. You gasp when the lion closest to Pero takes a swipe at him, narrowly missing his flesh with those large claws. “Gods.” You mutter, clenching your jaw as another man is dragged down by the great beasts. A splash of blood staining the sands beneath the carnage.
Pero’s chest heaves and he’s covered in sweat. Blood streaked on his body but it’s not his own. The sun is burning but he fights to stay alive, swinging his sword over and over until he’s facing a lion. The lion roars and he grounds himself, swinging his sword. The lion swipes him, making him hiss from the gash on his arm but he ignores it, focusing on killing the beast.
Your entire body tenses and you lean forward. Watching the fight between lion and man. You see the animal cut into his arm and you press your lips together to keep from crying out. You know that your father is watching the games, but he will notice you. You pray to the gods that the lion doesn’t win as you watch the beast lunge towards Pero and drive him to the ground.
Pero scrambles to protect himself with his shield while the lion snaps his teeth at him. He struggles and he sees his life flash before him in that moment and he sees the future he’s losing. A future with you and he won’t let that go so he swings his sword, driving it into the chest of the lion who roars and swipes but stumbles to the ground. Pero pants as he allows himself a moment to regain his strength while the battle continues around him until it’s him and one other man. Your father holds his hand up and the crowd goes silent. Pero’s chest heaves as he looks up at the balcony, waiting for the next announcement. If it’s a fight to the death one on one, he plans to win. “We have a late contender.” Your father declares, “General Atticus throws his hat into the ring.” He announces and the crowd cheers when the gates open to reveal the General in his gleaming armor.
“Father!” You hiss in annoyance, knowing that Pero is exhausted after fighting for hours, while Atticus has watched from the stands and is fresh. He turns to you and smiles, “he will be a good warrior beside you.” He declares and you know that Atticus will cheat. He’s a snake.
Pero rolls his shoulders, knowing that he has to wait until the other man goes for Atticus. He can regain some strength. The horn sounds and as predicted, the other man rushes towards Atticus who easily takes him down. The man was exhausted as is Pero but he won’t lose. He can’t. Atticus smirks as he withdraws his sword from the dead man and wipes it on the sand. “Give it up. You can’t win.” Atticus taunts Pero who growls, chest heaving. The two men appraise each other for several moments and Pero waits for him to make the first move.
You are on the edge of your chair, a small scream clawing up in your throat when you see Atticus attack. The lunge and slash is too close and you see that Pero is exhausted. You grip the arms of your chair as your lover spins away from the general and puts several paces between them. The general shuffles slightly, feinting a move to the left but then goes right, Pero watching and moving with him so he deflects the attack easily. “Mars protect him.” You murmur quietly.
Pero spits onto the sand, his throat dry, and his muscles aching but he refuses to yield. The general smirks at him, “you will never have her. Oh, Pero Tovar, I have heard all about you. How you have been in love with her since you were children. She isn’t yours to have. She will be mine. Rome will be mine.” He grins and surges forward. His sword slicing Pero’s shoulder and your lover cries out in pain. The general attacks again, slicing Pero’s side and he’s exhausted. He falls to his knees, his sword in his hand and his eyes turn to you as Atticus raises his sword.
You lunge to your feet, horror making you shout out the secret you have been keeping from Pero the last week. “I’m carrying your child!” You scream out, “Fight, Pero! I love you!” The entire colosseum is deathly quiet, waiting for the death blow to be delivered, so all of Rome hears your shame. You don’t care. You just want Pero to live.
Pero’s eyes widen as your scream echoes in the colosseum. You’re pregnant. With his child. His jaw clenches and Atticus stares at him in shock, momentarily distracted, and Pero jumps onto his feet, swinging his sword and within moments, Atticus’s head rolls across the bloodied sands of the arena. The crowd roars to life and your father stares in shock as the general’s body is sprawled out on the ground, his head on the sands, eyes wide in shock.
Screaming in joy, you refuse to even look towards your father, knowing that you just ruined his plans for your future rule. Tears start to stream down your face, ecstatic that your lover has won and will now have your hand in marriage per the rules your father set down. The thunderous applause of crowds are deafening, their approval meaning that there is no way your father can change the rules again. “Pero! Pero!” You shout, the crowd picking up on it and starting to chant his name through the colosseum.
Pero pants, exhaustion seeping into his bones and he wastes no time in rushing through the stands, making his way to the balcony, and when he swings his leg onto the balcony, he reaches for you and pulls you close. Pressing his lips to yours, he sighs your name and smiles against your mouth. His hand finding your stomach between you. You can be together. Finally, your father smiles and applauds but you can sense his disapproval.
The people of Rome witness your fussing over him. The frantic kisses and the happy tears they swear everyone in the stands can see. Your hands grab his face to caress and coo over him, overjoyed by the fact that he won. The sands of the colosseum are littered with bodies and blood, signifying how hard Pero fought to win. “I love you.” You promise him breathlessly. “I didn’t tell you before because I wanted to surprise you after you won.” You admit.
“Hermosa.” He murmurs, “I will protect you until my last breath.” He vows, “you and our child.” The crowd is applauding, roaring with screams of joy and your father waves to the crowd until he gestures to you and Pero who takes your hand as he approaches the edge of the balcony. Your father claps as you raise Pero’s arm and your lover grins as it sinks in that he has won. “Your future empress and her warrior. They will be wed in two days time.” Your father announces and the crowd cheers once more. 
“Come, my love, you need to wash and rest.” You coo and Pero nods, the adrenaline wearing off and he stumbles slightly as you guide him from the balcony to the chariot waiting to return you to the palace.
The ride back to the palace is quiet, neither one of you speaking, although children and dogs run beside the chariot. The children cheer and wave and the dogs bark as they race alongside the spinning wheels. You are elated that he won, but you need to keep him close until the wedding. Your father will be furious that you had slept with Pero, but hopefully your public confession will keep him safe. Once you are back at the palace, you order food and wine to be brought to the baths, intending on taking care of your lover yourself.
You guide Pero to the private baths of the emperor and yourself, the servants fetching the trays you requested, and Pero watches as you work on removing his armor. “You are going to be mine.” He murmurs, unable to quite believe it. You smile and continue removing the armor from his body, depositing it on the marble floor that surrounds the baths.
Once Pero is naked, you take a cloth and wet it in the water, washing his wounds carefully. “It will scar.” You tsk slightly, knowing that he won’t mind the additional marks on his battle riddled body. “Your victory will be the talk of the Empire for years to come.” You tell him, dropping the cloth and reaching for your own dress to disrobe. “Now you will reap your spoils.” You smirk. “An Empress, bathing you of your sweat and blood before she rides you. Sucks your cock like a common whore. Rome will be on her knees for you.”
Your words make his cock throb, already hard from the adrenaline, and his eyes take in your body. The knowledge that you are having his baby makes him inhale sharply and he groans your name, “my Empress.  You shall want for nothing. I am yours. Rome is yours.” He vows as you take his hand to help him step into the warm waters.
The warm water is soothing and you know that your lover is thirsty, so as soon as he sits down you bring him a cup of wine. “My Spaniard.” You hum, holding it up to his lips. “My love, my future warrior and the father of my children to come.” You coo as he takes a sip.
He swallows down half the goblet and after you set it down, he reaches for you so he can cup your cheek. He presses his lips to yours and slides his tongue into your mouth, wanting to show you how much he loves you. He killed half of Rome for you.
You go willingly into his arms, wrapping yours around his neck and straddling his thighs in the water. Kissing him back with just as much passion as you can show him. You know that he’s both exhausted and invigorated and you reach for the cloth and soap. “Let me tend to you.” You murmur, kissing along his jaw as you pick up the goblet and press it into his hands to drink while you tend to him. “Relax and enjoy.”
Pero slides his hands along your back, enjoying the way you care for him. It’s tender and just what he needs after his body has been through hell and back. “Amor.” He murmurs, sighing when you kiss his cheek. The goblet of wine in his hand lowers slightly as his grip loosens. You start to wash him, his hair full of blood, and he watches you bite your lip in concentration.
You take your time, soothing his muscles with the heat and the wine. Knowing that the water feels good and being clean will feel even better. You might have been raised to be the Empress of Rome, but you want to take care of him. He has done so much for you. “My love. My brave and wonderful love.” You praise softly. “I was so scared for you. Even knowing you would win.”
Pero snorts, “you were that sure?” He asks, not believing you. “I know that you weren’t sure. Especially when those fucking lions came out. Your father…he’s a cruel man. Lions.” He shakes his head as you caress his chest with the cloth. “I thought I was going to fail when the lion was on top of me.” He admits softly, “but then you said you were with child and I couldn’t - I had to fight. Even if I was cut down. I had to try.”
“I’m glad you did.” You admit softly, leaning over and kissing his shoulder right above the wound he had taken from Atticus. “I would never wanted to be married to that man. He is just as cruel as my father, maybe more so. I have heard the rumors, and I’ve never liked him.” You soap up your fingers to wash his hair, knowing he will feel better when he is clean. “I missed my bleeding last week.” You explain quietly. 
Pero's cock twitches at the fact that he has gotten you pregnant but he remembers the way you screamed it. "You screamed it for all of Rome to hear, mi amor. The people...they will look at you as...impure and I do not wish to have that. We must marry as soon as possible." He murmurs, closing his eyes.
“I don’t care.” You promise him. “I would rather be known as impure and have all of Rome know I love you, than to be viewed as pure and have to marry Atticus.” You sigh softly. “I want to believe Rome would be happy for me. They cheered for you.”
Pero opens his eyes, "they cheered for you. They adore you. Their future Empress." He murmurs, "carrying their future Emperor. They would be fools to cast you aside when you simply followed your heart." He groans when you rub your fingers against his scalp.
You smile as you watch him relax, his eyes closed and enjoying the sensation of your hands in his hair. “They cheered for us, for we are the future of Rome.”
Pero smiles, knowing that it’s always been you. He’s never loved another. His hands sliding down to squeeze your ass as he starts to harden beneath you. “I can’t believe I get to have you. I never - siempre - I always imagined I’d have to watch you marry another.” He confesses, “but now…you’re mine.”
“I am yours.” You promise, picking up a clay pitcher to pour clean water over Pero’s hair. “And as soon as I finish, you are going to sit while I ride your cock and bring you pleasure.” You hum.
“Mmmm mi amor, I would love to let you use my body for your pleasure.” He murmurs, tilting his head back to let you wash the soap from his hair, the blood washing away. His cock is hard beneath you, “mi emperatriz, full of our baby.” He groans, his hands squeezing your ass.
“Full of your baby.” You whisper, pressing your lips to his. “I refused to drink your mother’s tea after you returned.” You admit, wanting him to know that you had no reservations about carrying his child. “If there had been no tournament, I would have asked you to flee Rome with me.”
Pero sighs, reaching up to cup your cheek, “I couldn’t ask that of you. You have been raised to lead. I could never ask you to abandon your empire.” He sighs, “but I would’ve followed you anywhere.”
“That is in the past.” You reach between you to wrap your fingers around his cock and line up so you can sink down on him. “You will be my right hand, the sword and shield of Rome.” You predict as you slowly start to take him into your body. “Leader of my armies and master of my heart. My gladiator.”
Pero’s breath hitches as you sink down onto him. His hands find your waist and his lips press against yours once more. His tongue sliding into your mouth, and he savors his victory. He was nearly killed but he survived, he won. He can enjoy his reward…you.
****
“The general approaches.” Your servant announces it as if you do not see the crowds parting for the large retinue of soldiers, the crests of the regiment held high and the confetti littering the streets for the celebration of your husband’s victorious return to the capital. Your hand idly rubs the large, swollen bump under your breasts where his child safely lies. Kicking at the noise and feeling your happiness at Pero’s return. In the last eight months, your life has changed. You married Pero, ignoring your father’s unhappiness at the union since it was the best thing for Rome. Your father had passed away in his sleep days later, making you the Empress of Rome and your baby its future heir. Pero had been made the top general of your armies and had been dispatched to bring peace to your lands. Successful, he is now returned to you and hopefully, the expensive wars will be no more for a long time. You smile at the crowds, but your eyes are fixed on the noble figure of your husband as his horse canters up the streets, his dark eyes meeting yours.
“Gods, she has gotten big.” He murmurs to himself, riding up the steps of the palace where you are standing and he swings off of his horse as the crowds close in below you. A servant takes the reins as Pero strides over to you, his hands cupping your cheeks to kiss you deeply in front of the people of Rome. The crowd cheers and Pero caresses your bump. “I’ve missed you, emperatriz.” He murmurs, nudging your nose with his. “I missed you too, my gladiator.” You whisper and he smiles, waving at the crowds as he steps back to take your hand. “I need you now.” He demands, escorting you into the palace and you try to keep up as he guides you to your quarters.
Pero’s long strides eat up the marble flooring between the front of the palace and the quarters you had taken for yourself after your father passed. The furnishing had been replaced and the room to the side that had been used for his mistresses had been turned into a nursery for your future child. His eagerness to touch you has you giggling as you are practically dragged along the corridor. Despite your advanced pregnancy, it’s obvious that your husband desires you. “I have missed you between my thighs, husband.” You tease.
“I missed you more than you can imagine, amor.” Pero pushes the doors open, slamming them behind you when you’re inside and he wastes no time dropping to his knees on the marble floor and pushes your dress up your body. His hands caress your bump and he surges forward to bury his face in your curls, his tongue sliding through your folds.
“Pero!” You cry out in pleasure as your sensitive body reacts to his skilled tongue. You had learned so much about each other’s bodies when he had returned and you were sneaking him into your bed every night, but after your marriage, your couplings became even more blissful. Pero is an attentive and giving lover, you don’t doubt that he had been faithful to you while he was away for so many months despite knowing that others take their ease with the whores that follow the army. “Fuck, your tongue is so good. I have missed you beside me at night.”
He groans, missing your tangy taste, and he hisses as he flicks his tongue over your clit. Your bump prevents him from seeing you but he groans as you tangle your fingers in his hair. He’s dirty from the road but he doesn’t care as his hands slide along your legs, caressing your skin while he works you over with his tongue.
Pero eats your cunt eagerly, with a hunger that sometimes takes your breath away as he pushes your body towards pleasure. “Pero.” You whine, holding steady to his shoulders when he lifts one of your legs to his thigh to delve into you deeper. “Make me cry out and then I want you deep inside me, want to feel you fill me up again.”
He wants to push you over the edge. Sucking on your clit, he can feel how close you are and you tug on his hair. His cock is aching for you and he wants you to cum for him. He flicks his tongue over your clit and pushes it deep inside of you, his nose pressing against your clit.
Your stomach heaves and your fingers dig into his hair and tug when you come apart. “Pero!” You scream his name, your eyes rolling back as you soak his tongue in your pleasure. It makes your legs tremble and threaten to buckle but you know his strong arms will keep you upright.
He grips your ass, keeping you upright, and he works you through it, loving the way you moan as you come back down to earth. He caresses your skin and lowers your leg back down. “Come on, amor. I want to be inside of you.” He stands up and takes your hand to guide you over to the bed. He unclips his breast plate and sets it down, his leather tunic swaying as he works on untying it to expose his body to your eager eyes.
“My love, my gladiator.” You moan, his strong body always making you feel desperate for him. He is still strong, even if he is not as lean as he was when he had left you before when you were nearly still children. His cock is hard and jutting out proudly, making you moan. “After you have bathed, I want to be on my knees for you again. Have you sit on the side of the baths while I take you down my throat.”
Pero knows he won’t win if he argues with you that you shouldn’t do that in your condition so he doesn’t protest. “Hands and knees, mi amor.” He knows that’s the most comfortable position for you right now. He kneels on the bed as you shift onto your hands and knees, the baby bump beneath you as your toes dig into the bedding. Pero pumps his cock as he shuffles closer and he positions himself at your entrance before he starts to slowly push inside of you.
Your eyes close, cunt squeezing him tight as you moan his name. You’ve never had another lover but you know that no one else would be as good as your husband. He twitches inside you, making you whimper. “I want it hard, Pero.” You beg. “It won’t hurt me and I crave the ache.”
His hands caress your back down to your ass, pushing your dress higher to expose more of you and he groans when your walls flutter around him. “I love you. Mi emperatriz.” He vows, “I am yours. I serve only you.” He promises and he rocks into you a little harder like you want.
You moan quietly, loving how he adores you. Anyone else would have been hungry for what power you could provide to him, but Pero doesn’t care about that. You are his priority. “I love you.” You gasp out. “You are my Emperor. I give everything to you.”
Pero groans, leaning over you to press his lips to your neck. “I love you. You are everything.” He never wanted to be Emperor. He never wanted the power. He only wanted to be with you, to have you. Even if it meant running from Rome. You’re his life. “My Empress.” He murmurs, rocking into you a little faster, his hand sliding down your bump until he’s pressing his digits against your clit.
You moan his name again, frantic to cum around his cock after so long without him. Pleasure rockets through you and you push back against his thrusts eagerly. “Pero- Pero, I’m going to cum!” You cry out, seconds before stars burst behind your eyes and you clamp down around his length.
He grits his teeth when your walls grip him. He fucking loves it. He’s missed you so much. This is why he could never fuck a whore. No one has ever made him feel like this. He pants against your back as he rocks into you, “fuck. I- I’m gonna fill you up.” He grunts, pushing into you a half dozen more times until he cums, painting your walls with his hot seed. “Te amo.” He pants, breathing you in.
“I love you too.” You slowly roll to your side, Pero still buried inside you so he can stroke your belly and both of you can relax. “You are home now. No more wars until our second child is at least five.” You hum, knowing the people of Rome are tired of costly wars.
“Your empire is secure. Your people love you. We shall be legendary. Our family, our children will be remembered forever.” He murmurs, caressing your belly and he kisses your forehead. “You are my Empress. I would die for you. I would kill for you.” He vows and you stroke his cheek. He already killed for you. Your gladiator. You and Pero were always meant to be and the history books will write of your epic love story. The Empress and her Gladiator.
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gingernut1314 · 3 days ago
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Good Omen
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Kyojuro Rengoku x F!Reader
Summary: The Rengoku genes are hard to fight against, but your newborn child finds a way.
Warnings: gendered terms (wife, husband, female, male), reader has a baby (not shown)
Word Count: 840+
A/N: First time writing for Kyojuro and I don't know why I haven't before this because I LOVE that man too much. He is one of my many, dearly beloved husbands ✋😩. I hope you all enjoy!
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You had pushed out a carbon copy of Kyojuro Rengoku.
You had thought maybe--maybe your genes would stand a chance in the creation of your child.
You thought that maybe the sweet new life you would bring into this world might have your nose or your eyes or even your cheekbones.
You, of course, thought wrong. 
You didn’t know why you had hoped so passionately for your child to look like you, not when the entirety of the Rengoku line looked like one person had transported himself through time to live with himself from various different ages.
Bushy and wild yellow hair already grew from your sweet babes head. Bright, red and yellow-rimmed, owl-wide eyes blinked up at you. Pointed nose, high cheekbones, strong grip around your finger, and small but dark eyebrows.
This baby was your husband's clone, just as he and his brother had been clones of their father, and their father a clone of his father. 
The one thing you had gifted your baby--the one thing that seemed to have fought tooth and nail through the overwhelming power of Rengoku genealogy had you worrying your lip between your teeth. 
Your baby was born female. 
Female when generation after generation of Rengoku and Flame Hashira had been male. 
You couldn’t help the bit of panic that wound tightly in your chest as you turned your gaze from your baby to your husband, who burst into your room eyes shining and smile so wide you thought the corners might brush the lobe of each ear. 
“How is my darling wife?” Kyojuro’s voice boomed through the room, making your midwives cringe and shush him. You, nor it seemed your child, cared. You were used to it, comforted by its consistent optimism, and your baby seemed to feel the same way. 
Kyojuro noticed the shushes and whispered an apology back. A whisper that still managed to be projected further than your midwives cared for. 
“Sweetheart,” You started as Kyojuro gracefully knelt next to where you sat. 
“Yes?” He murmured, softer now that he was leaning closer to gaze upon his baby. You moved her so that you could present her sleeping face to her father. 
“The baby…she’s--well she’s a girl.” You heard Kyojuro take a small inhale of breath and your panic spiked. There hadn’t been a single girl in his family for generations. Not one and here you were, giving him a female heir. 
You had never known your husband to grow angered. To get mad at you but--maybe this was the line? Maybe it was the line and you were panicking to know what he was thinking. 
“Perfect!” He boomed spooking the midwives, some of who gave strangled yelps. “Perfect!” He repeated proudly. “A girl? Are you sure?” He turned to look back at you in his excitement, yellow and red eyes--they were brimming with tears as they looked at you. You felt your own eyes burn in relief. In your utter love for the man kneeling beside you. 
“Yes, I’m sure. You’re not mad?” Kyojuro gave a barking laugh at such a thought.
“Mad? No. I’m ecstatic!” You gave your own laugh, your tears spilling from your eyes. Kyojuro brushed his calloused thumb over your cheeks, clearing them both of the racing droplets. “You know there hasn’t been a single female Rengoku since the beginning of our family line.” You nodded, giving a humming “mm-hmm” that caught in your throat, which had tightened painfully in your fear. “Many believed we were divinely blessed for this, but I always felt it was a curse.” 
“Do you want to hold her?” 
“More than anything.” Kyojuro beamed. You gently passed your baby to her father, her dark brows furrowing at the sudden change. 
Kyojuro never once took his eyes off his child. Didn’t stop to brush his own tears away as he took in every last detail of your daughter's face, a look of such love in his eyes it was overwhelming. 
“You are special. A good omen.” He whispered down to her. “And I love you. Oh dear--how my heart bursts for you.” 
Your own heart felt like it would flutter so hard it would explode right from your chest at the words he gifted his daughter. He was a good man and already a good father.
You brushed your own fingers over his cheeks, clearing them of his tears and running them through his wild hair. 
“Want to invite Senjuro in?” 
“Only if you wish, dear.” You nodded your head and Kyojuro took a few more, unhurried minutes to hold and watch over his child before passing her back to you. As soon as she was securely within your hold once more, he was popping up to his feet. 
“Senjuro!” He called, giving the midwives another frightful start. You watched your husband rush out of the room, lips in a near-painful smile as you chuckled at his excitement. “Senjuro! My baby is a girl! She’s a girl!” 
You had been completely foolish to worry. 
You and your daughter were in very good and loving hands.
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bungalowbear · 1 year ago
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Wolves of Tokyo: Savage Good Boy
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Pairing: alpha!Fushiguro Toji x omega!f!reader
Summary: Pressured to choose a husband, you make a rebellious choice after a stranger comes to your rescue.
Warnings: abo dynamics, misogynistic themes, some violence, creepy alphas, love hotel, smut (fingering, p in v, knotting), biting, mutual bonding, mdni
Word Count: 8.5k
A/N: Here goes my first nosedive into abo. This is going to be a whole series with different jjk men and their readers. First up is Hana! But even though I’ve given her a name it’s more to make writing/reading easier the further along we get. I try to be as inclusive as I can therefore there are no physical descriptions, so anyone can read and hopefully picture themselves. Enjoy!
Series Masterlist / Playlist
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There are many wolf clans in the city of Tokyo. But the Gojo, Kamo, and Zen’in families stand above all others. Power, wealth, and status are the pillars that have supported them for generations.
Your family is less prominent, just one rung below, though sought after for its long history of birthing powerful and gifted offspring. A blessing, your father says, the heavens bestowed upon your clan. But you’ve only ever regarded it as a curse.
Not only do you have the unfortunate luck of being born a woman, but also an omega. You’re even more unfortunate to have been born to your father, the head of your clan and the one forcing you into an arranged marriage.
“Do you know how many omegas would kill to be in your position?” he asks, voice tinged with frustration.
“Probably, like, a ton.”
You’re upside down on the sofa, legs hanging over the back and face looking out through the floor to ceiling windows of the living room. Your father’s penthouse offers an enviable view of the city. Among the patchwork constellations of lit windows of office buildings, you marvel at Tokyo Tower, turned upside down from your position, shining in all her glory.
“And yet you treat this with such contempt?”
Your father’s voice interrupts your city gazing. You hear his heavy footsteps echo against the hardwood floors as he comes to block your view. You refuse to raise your eyes to him, already familiar with the image of his crossed arms and rigid posture when he scolds you.
“Forgive me, father,” the words roll off your tongue dry and indifferent, “for not being so eager to sell myself off like some prized cattle.”
“You can’t keep pushing this meeting off,” he argues. “The other clans are getting restless. Soon they won’t be asking, but demanding.”
You roll your eyes and sit up so your feet are planted on the floor and your head is upright again. This time you turn your gaze up at your father, not cowering under his stern expression.
“You realize we don’t care about any of this, right? Satoru and I have been friends since we were children, and we both agree this is so archaic. Choso spends more time at that animal shelter than at home.” Your hands clutch the edges of the seat. A sour taste settles on your tongue. “And I’d claw my own eyes out before marrying Naoya. He’s the only one you’ve all successfully indoctrinated into this misogynistic bullshit.”
Pushing off the couch, you stride past your father and plant yourself beside the window. You pull your legs against your chest and rest your head on your knees. Your father’s footsteps come closer. His hand reaches toward your head and gives you a gentle pet, but you shake him off and scoot further away.
“What am I going to do with you?”
You can hear fondness creeping in his voice, but you won’t allow it to sway you.
“How about not forcing me to marry someone I don’t want to,” you quip.
Your father sighs.
“Our clan has kept itself alive and thriving for generations through marriage pacts. If we—”
“Maybe we don’t have to anymore,” you interrupt, looking at him with imploring eyes. “It’s a new time, father. Things are different now.”
“Not for us.”
He looks at you like you’re a child again. A sad smile that suggests you don’t understand anything about the way the world works. But you do know, and it’s not a world you want to live in anymore.
You and Satoru talk about the changes you want to make within the top clans. And you’re committed, you want to see it happen, but sometimes it seems impossible. At times you feel so small and so lonely. As a male alpha, Satoru doesn’t fully understand your fears, just like you don’t his. And you know he gets insecure like you do. The only difference is that he has someone to confide in, to support him unconditionally. You don’t. Which is why it’s so important for your husband to be someone of the same mind as you. Not someone who will keep you trapped underneath his thumb.
“If mother was here she’d be on my side.”
You huff, burying your head in your arms. You feel the warmth of your father next to you as he comes closer again. This time when he puts his arm around you, you don’t move away.
“If your mother was here she’d want you to make a smart decision.” He speaks with a sorrow you can’t fully comprehend. You lost a mother, but he lost a wife. A mate. “She’d want you to be protected and provided for. Each of the clans is offering that.”
“Wouldn’t she also want me to be happy?”
He chuckles. “You’re just like her.”
You lift your head. He stares at you with glassy eyes.
“Beautiful and wise,” he says. A loving smile curves his lips. “And stubborn.”
Your father’s expression turns somber. You already know what he sees in your face, in every feature that composes your physical identity. You see it every time you step in front of a mirror. A near identical copy of your mother. A living, breathing reminder that she once walked the earth, long enough to give you her likeness.
“I miss her,” you say, dropping your head onto his shoulder.
“So do I.”
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You make sure your father is asleep before leaving the apartment. You close the door carefully behind you and take the elevator to the lobby. It’s nearly midnight, the usual time you step out, and your neighborhood is as you anticipate, quiet.
The walk to the train station is quick. You tap your fare card on the reader and head underground to catch the last local train to Shinjuku. You’ll most likely have to take a cab home, but you’ll figure that out later. Conversations with your father always leave you mentally drained and the only thing you can focus on right now is getting your hands on some yaki udon.
Once you arrive at your station, you exit up the stairs and onto the street. The diner isn’t far so you keep your head down and let your feet lead you along the familiar route.
It’s a bit crowded for a Thursday but you don’t mind. You can blend in better. Disappear among the mixed scents of the other designations that crowd the sidewalk. You mostly catch the sweetness of omegas in the air. They travel in groups and you assume they don’t have mates of their own. It’s rare for an alpha to allow their mate to be out this late. Thankfully, you don’t have that problem. Not yet, at least.
You’re not sure how long you can keep stalling your father. You understand he pressures you only because he’s pressured by the other clans, but you don’t understand why he doesn’t just stand up to them and refuse. You don’t know what he’s so afraid of. He’s already been through the worst time of his life.
The death of your mother was the lowest point not only for you and your father, but also the entire clan. Only with her absence were you able to realize the influential woman she was and what she meant to the other branches of the family. Their support through your grief and your father’s brief depression, their unwavering loyalty and devotion, their presence the purest form of unconditional love, was the foundation your mother built that gave the clan a foot to keep standing on.
You and your father had endured your mother’s death with the clan by your side. When the mourning period ended you promised yourself you would be a leader worthy of your family name in return for their support. You’d be as resilient as your father, and as influential as your mother.
But the only way you can achieve that is through the right opportunity. Clearly your father won’t be the one to make one happen for you, so you have to find it yourself.
A voice calling out stops you in your tracks. As your mind clears itself of your previous thoughts your ears listen for the voice again. You look over your shoulder at the opening of a dark alley and wait. After a few seconds you hear the same cry for help.
You backtrack a few steps and peer into the alley. Cautiously, you enter and follow the whimpering sounds and scared scent of an omega. There are several overhead light posts lining the walls, and it’s beneath one of those lights you see a woman cowering beneath two burly men with her hand pressed against her red cheek. She peers between the two with tears in her eyes and finds your gaze, relief pouring out of her as if you’re an angel come to her rescue.
“Hey!”
You shout, too fast for you to think about the consequences. But it gets their attention and gives the omega the opening needed to get away. One of the men tries to grab her but she quickly evades him and sprints away toward the other end of the alley.
“Big mistake, girl.”
They turn to you and you realize too late that they’re both alphas. Angry and irritated alphas. And you’re alone with them.
You try to make your own escape, but a harsh grip on your arm pulls you back. You’re shoved against the wall and the space is too narrow to put any distance between you and the increasingly overwhelming spicy tang of their combined scents that fill your nostrils.
“What do we have here?” The one that holds you in place has shaggy brown hair. He inhales deeply, closing his eyes with a salacious grin. “Another little omega to play with?”
In the brief moment his eyes are shut, you shift your feet so that your right foot is slightly behind your left. Using all the force you can muster, you thrust the palm of your right hand up and into his nose. He steps back with a shout, hands flying to his face as blood trickles out between his fingers. The other man steps around his friend and roughly pins your shoulders to the wall.
“A feisty one, eh?” His bald head shines beneath the light post as he leans in close. He takes a good whiff of you. “Doesn’t matter. I can smell how scared you really are. A little sour mixed in with all that sweetness. Just how I like it.”
His nose inches toward the sensitive gland on your neck and your body revolts. You’ve acted mostly on instinct so far, but you’re intentionally defiant as you gather a pool of saliva in your mouth and spit it all out onto his face.
“What the—” He jerks back, wiping away your attack with the back of his hand. An angry growl crawls out of his throat as he raises a hand to strike you. “You little bitch.”
You shut your eyes, waiting for the sting of his palm to sharply make contact with your cheek.
But it never comes.
Your eyes open and your brow furrows at the hand hovering in mid air above your face. When your gaze lowers you realize it’s because another hand has it locked in place.
You didn’t hear him, couldn’t even sense him approach, but this new person is no doubt another alpha. Your lips part in awe at the size of him. He’s massive, towering over you and the others. His broad frame is intimidating and his arms and chest are barely contained beneath the fibers of his plain black t-shirt.
The bald alpha tries to pull away but the grip he’s in is too strong. In a flash, your savior turns him around with a yank of his arm and sends a powerful kick to his backside. The smaller man goes flying forward onto his hands and knees. His friend with the still bleeding nose helps him up from the ground, and they both turn back to the giant of a man now standing between you and them.
“What the hell, man?” the bald one complains. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“Now it does.”
The deep timbre of your savior’s voice makes your knees shake. It suits his powerful presence and makes you thankful he’s on your side.
All three alphas seem to be locked in a staring contest. But while the two become visibly nervous the longer it goes on, their opponent’s cool expression doesn’t waver. He folds his arms and his muscles strain against the short sleeves of his shirt. The two others seem to come to a decision and start backing away. They spare you a quick glance, and your savior a scowl, before they turn and escape down the alley.
You watch from behind the alpha’s frame until the two round the corner and are finally out of sight. Letting out a sigh of relief, you step away from the wall. But it’s short lived when the remaining alpha turns his sharp gaze on you.
“Be more careful next time you decide to play hero, yeah?”
His shirt looks too small for him, and you wonder if it’s on purpose to show off his insanely fit body. You notice a hole in the left knee of his sweatpants that sit low on his hips and the white socks dusted brown with dirt slid into a pair of black slides. Your gaze snaps up to his face and zeroes in on the scar at the corner of his lip, then to the black strands of hair that fall in his face, shading a pair of emerald green eyes. You decide that despite his semi-homeless presentation he’s actually very attractive.
“Thanks,” you say. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
He looks down his nose at you, appraising you like you just did him. You wonder what he sees. You wonder if the smirk that pulls at the corner of his mouth is meant to unnerve you, entice you, or maybe both. And you wonder why, since you run on instinct so much, do you go against your designation’s expectations and make so much trouble for your father.
“You hungry?”
He tilts his head. “What?”
“I was heading to a diner,” you say. “Let me buy you something. It’s the least I can do.”
His eyes narrow for a second as he contemplates your offer. Though you already know what his answer will be.
“Sure.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Whatever.”
You smirk and motion for him to follow you. The noise from the street is a welcome reprieve from the dark and quiet alley, but being back on the sidewalk means navigating through the crowds again. You’re so used to walking alone, swiftly weaving through bodies, that you almost forget your new companion. You look over your shoulder to make sure you haven’t left him behind and your brows rise at the empty space behind you.
He is only about five or six steps behind, but his broad build and being several heads taller than nearly everyone on the street makes them steer clear and create a path for him to walk unimpeded. Your eyes meet and he grins. The way his scar stretches and his eyes narrow make him look dangerous, and like he’s certainly aware of his presence.
You hum, curious about who this man is, and turn your head forward to continue walking. Several blocks later and a right turn onto a narrow street, the diner finally comes into view. Kanji characters glow in red neon above the entrance.
“It doesn’t look like much,” you say when you’re standing in front of the dark wood sliding door. “But they’ve got the best curry you’ll ever eat.”
He doesn’t say anything as you slide the door open and wave him in first. You weren’t close enough before to notice, but when he ducks his head and passes in front of you into the diner you catch his scent. Cypress with an underlying hint of spicy cinnamon fills your senses and you have to shake your head to keep from focusing on it too long.
You enter after him and slide the door closed. He looks over the menu options on the ticket machine to the left of the door while you peer past him to the long counter. The sound of running water in the kitchen stops and a familiar face appears from behind the corner. When Momo’s brother sees you he says your name.
“Welcome.” He smiles at you warmly. Then his eyes cut to the large man beside you, who doesn’t take his focus off the food options, and tilts his head in silent inquiry. But you shake your head and he understands that now isn’t the time for questions. “Sit anywhere you’d like. Momo will—”
He pauses, looking around the diner with a frown for his sister. It’s a narrow room with a counter that spans almost the entire length of the space with room on each end to exit through the doors. The right wall is lined with tables that seat two and leaves a small aisle in between for passage along the length of the diner. The back door leads to the restroom, which is a separate room in the alley with easy street access, and where you’re certain his sister is.
You chuckle, knowing when Momo reappears she’ll be in for a scolding. Turning your attention to the machine, you feed it several notes and select your udon and toppings.
“Get as much as you want,” you say.
Your companion doesn’t hesitate to start pressing buttons, choosing a bowl of ramen and the large portion of curry. After he selects an order of gyoza and tempura the money slot blinks green and you slide in more notes. He looks at you with raised brows, probably not believing your initial offer, before he makes his final selections of yakitori and two beers. You add another yakitori and a beer for yourself before accepting your change and fishing out the tickets from the dispenser.
“Let’s take a seat.” You turn to the alpha beside you. “I’m sure—”
Suddenly the back door slides open and all eyes are on the flustered omega as she enters the diner. She straightens the apron around her waist before swiftly closing the door, but not fast enough that you don’t catch the blur of white hair dash behind her. When she looks up you can see the smudge of gloss around the corners of her mouth and you have to hold back your giggles.
Her mouth splits into a wide grin when she spots you and hurries around the counter toward you. With a tilt of your head in his direction, the alpha follows your lead down the aisle and toward a table along the wall.
“Hey, Momo,” you greet your friend. You lift your hand and use your knuckle to clear away the stray gloss on her skin. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” she answers, shyly averting her eyes. Her hands smooth down the front of her apron. “Really good.”
You raise your brows in amusement, lips parting to tease her, but Momo takes the tickets from you and tears them in half before scurrying off to the kitchen. You watch her go with a fond shake of your head.
“She’s cute.”
Your attention shifts to the alpha now seated at the table. He grins while making the observation. His gaze lingers on the entrance of the kitchen, where the low murmurs of Momo’s scolding reach your ears.
You take the seat across from him.
“Thank you,” you say, “for, uh, helping me back there.”
“You always pick fights with alphas?”
You think about your father and the clan heads, always aware of the power they hold. You’d learned about it all from Satoru growing up, your only confidant in this repeating generational cycle, and yet you refuse to give in. All your life you knew what awaited you and you took every chance to delay it. Ever since your mother’s death you wanted something more for yourself. You wanted a different future.
“Yeah.” You smile to yourself. “I guess I do.”
“Pretty stupid for an unmated omega.”
He scoffs. You roll your eyes.
“We’re not helpless, you know.”
“You got in a good hit, so maybe not helpless.” He chuckles, tilting his head down to narrow his eyes playfully. “Still a weak little thing though.”
“I literally made him bleed.”
The smirk he gives you makes him look less intimidating.
“You’re not like other omegas,” he says.
It’s not a question. Ever since you met him you’ve felt his calculating gaze on you. Not heavy or intense, but just there. A silent presence that maintains its patience, watching and studying and waiting for the right time to take action.
“Here you are.” Momo appears with your beers, placing them on the table with a steady hand. She looks from you to your companion. “Who’s your new friend?”
“I ran into some trouble,” you vaguely explain. “He was kind enough to get me out of it.”
She frowns. “Trouble?”
You wave off her concern. “It was barely anything.”
Momo turns to him, bowing her head in gratitude.
“Thank you for taking care of my friend. I’ll bring some dessert, on the house.”
“Momo, I can—”
You start to decline her offer, but the deep, rich voice of the man across from you cuts you off.
“I appreciate that, sweetheart.”
Momo perks up before flitting away with a promise of ice cream. You watch the alpha as he eyes Momo’s backside. You clear your throat.
“She’s spoken for. And your competition won’t fold as easily as those creeps in the alley.”
“Just lookin’,” he says, reaching for his first beer.
You take your own beer in your hands, bringing it up to your lips for a sip. You eye him over the rim, take in everything about him. His hair, his face, the bored expression he near constantly wears. The more you see, the more familiar he looks.
“So…what’s your name?” you ask.
“Why do you wanna know?” he counters.
“Isn’t it normal for me to want to know the name of my knight in shining armor?”
He laughs before taking a large gulp of his beer, slamming it down onto the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He tilts his head to look at you through half lidded eyes. You’re sure he’s trying to be seductive, and you have no doubt he can be, but after countless alphas from various clans trying to attract your attention you’ve built up a sort of immunity to pretty words and manipulative men.
He pouts when you show no sign of wavering.
“Doesn’t matter,” he huffs.
“I think it does,” you insist.
Like with the alphas in the alley, you’re caught in a staring contest with the man before you. But after a minute of you matching his impassive expression he smacks his teeth. He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest.
“What’s it to you anyway?”
You shrug. “You look like someone I know.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say. “You’ve got the same eyes.”
He hums.
“And the same hair,” you add.
He raises his brows. His green eyes light up in mock interest.
“Even got the same frown.”
“Wow,” he leans forward, propping an elbow on the table and resting his chin in his large palm, “the same frown.”
“He’s like a carbon copy of you. Almost like you could be father and son.”
At this, he straightens up. His expression hardens and he eyes the diner warily, as if he’s been unknowingly lured into some nefarious den.
“Who are you?” he asks.
“I asked you first.”
You wait for his answer, patient as you take another sip of beer. He clenches his jaw.
“Toji,” he finally answers.
“Family name?”
He hesitates. It seems any answer he has prepared for you won’t allow him to remain anonymous. But he could also give you a fake name, though something tells you he won’t.
“Fushiguro.”
He whispers the name, one you’re familiar with. You nod your head.
Before Fushiguro, he was Zen’in. Everyone knows the story of the alpha who deserted his clan after years of being ignored and put down by his family. An alpha who couldn’t shift into his wolf form was considered a blemish on the Zen’in name. But what Toji lacked as a shapeshifter he made up for in his human form. Physically stronger, faster, sharper than nearly any man or wolf, he made a name for himself as a hunter. You don’t know how you feel about him hunting other wolves, but from the stories you heard he was quite impressive.
“Okay,” Toji says, “so what’s your name?”
You tell him your full name, then add, “But my friends call me Hana.”
He scoffs. “So we’re friends?”
“We can be.”
“Why do your friends call you Hana?” he asks instead.
“Because they think they’re funny, dubbing me the blooming flower of my family.”
He chuckles, scratching at his chin. “So what’s the daughter of a clan leader doing sneaking around at night?”
“Needed to clear my head.” You trace a line down the side of your glass, breaking through the condensation. “I’m expected to choose a husband soon.”
“Right.” Toji nods. “Your family has the golden womb.”
You scrunch your nose at his wording. That’s all you are to any of them. A pawn. An object. You could just run away, you think. You’d ask Satoru to lend you some money until you get settled somewhere far away, then you’d live your life free of clan traditions. On your own terms.
But you know it’s nothing but a fantasy. Even if you ran they’d send someone to track you down and bring you back. Someone like Toji…
You lift your gaze to the alpha, and slowly an idea begins to form in your mind. You recall a thought you had: find your own opportunity.
“What do you think about marriage?”
“The first time wasn’t so bad.” Toji shrugs. “Second time was more for convenience.”
“You know,” you pause, gauging his expression, “they say third time’s the charm.”
His brows pinch together. He’s obviously puzzled.
You smile. “What do you say?”
“Marriage? To you?” He points a thumb over his shoulder. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head back there?”
“Think about it. If we get married your family will have to bring you back into the fold. You’ll be bankrolled by them again and I’ll get to rub it in all the clan leaders’ faces that I found away around their ancient tradition.”
“What makes you think I want their money?” Toji frowns. “Or would even go back if they asked?”
“Well, word around the packs is that you’re a bit of a gambler, so whatever money you acquire on your own is yours to do with as you please,” you say, waving your hand dismissively. “And if you don’t want to go back to your family then you can live with me. I’ll take care of your food, housing, and other essentials.”
“And be, what? Your sugar baby?”
“Essentially.” You chuckle to yourself. “Also, I’m sure they’ll want a stake in decisions about our children. That’s going to be so much fun.”
“Eh?” Toji scowls. “Now we’re talking about children?”
“Obviously we’ll have to have at least one,” you say. Avoiding children is hard in your position, but becoming a mother is not entirely out of the question. Having a mother like yours, a part of you had always been eager for your turn. “And I’m curious to see how they’ll turn out. I’ve heard stories about you. With your strengths and my “golden womb” perhaps our child will turn out to be very powerful. God, I can just picture the looks on the faces of those old men.”
Toji smirks. “You’re a spiteful one aren’t you?”
“Since I’m an only child, my father will pass on his business to whoever I marry.” You’re talking to yourself now, your future laying itself out before your eyes. “And after he does you’ll tell him you aren’t interested in running the company, then you’ll announce that you’re turning it over to me. I know everything about that place. I’ll keep growing the company, make sure the clan continues to prosper, and start making changes from the inside. Of course you’ll be free to do your own thing.”
You pause, really looking at Toji now and see a glint in his eyes as he stares back at you. You can tell he’s considering your offer.
“What about divorce?” he asks.
“You’ll have to sign a prenup, so there’s really no benefit for you if we get divorced. My father will also make sure that I have full custody of any children we have. You’ll essentially be right back where you are now. Just older.”
He’s silent as he rests his cheek in his palm.
“I’ll make sure you won’t want for anything.” You express the same sentiment your father did to you. How strange, you think, an omega offering protection and security to an alpha. “And if you want to see Megumi, I can ask—”
“No.”
“No?”
“I’ll do it. I’ll marry you.” Toji pointedly avoids your gaze. “But we don’t have to involve the kid.”
Your heart clenches. You wonder if he’ll be this indifferent to your own children.
“Okay.” You extend your hand across the table. “It’s a deal.”
Toji’s hand is warm around yours as he takes it and gives it a firm shake. Momo comes back to your table with your small feast. You thank her and she’s off again. Toji already has chopsticks in hand, but before he can take the first bite you speak up.
“For my father to accept this betrothal we’ll have to show him we’re serious. That there’s no going back.”
Toji looks at you with ramen hanging in front of his open mouth. “How do we do that?”
You smirk.
“With a little bonding time.”
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After your meal, you pay for a cab to take you and Toji to Love Hotel Hill in Shibuya. You’re dropped of at the entrance of the hotel, but before going inside you take hold of Toji’s elbow and turn him to face you.
“This is your last chance to back out,” you tell him. “If you walk through those doors with me there’s no going back.”
Toji’s head pushes back slightly. His brow furrows and he looks almost��offended. His lips part and he looks like he’s about to speak, but then his brows rise. His eyes scan your face and you wonder what he sees.
Does he see how hopeful you are? Does he realize that you’re both desperate for the same chance to change your lives?
“Don’t worry, omega.” He smirks, taking your hand that’s still touching his elbow. His thumb brushes over the inside of your wrist. A tingle zips through your arm. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Relief washes through you and you smile. You don’t think much of it as you wrap your arm through his, pulling you close to him as you walk through the automatic glass doors of the hotel.
The lobby is empty except for the reception desk where you know an attendant sits behind the opaque window. The rest of the space is finely decorated with warm overhead lighting, lush green plants, and a long leather couch placed against the far wall.
Your shoes tap softly against the tile as you and Toji step up to the board on the right wall lit up with pictures of available rooms to choose from. There are a few themed options, but you and Toji decide on a standard room for the night. So you choose a room on the top floor along with the “stay” option then go to the reception desk to pay. After you exchange notes for the key card a soft feminine voice bids you a pleasant stay.
After thanking the attendant you and Toji move to the elevator. He pushes the call button and you stand, your arm still around his, and wait. When the bell dings to signal the elevator’s arrival you prepare to step forward, but when the doors open a couple is already inside. The man removes his hands from the woman’s hips. He clears his throat and she giggles. You avert your eyes as you and Toji step aside for them to exit. When you’re inside and the elevator doors are closing you can hear the sounds of their infatuated exchange as they walk through the lobby and back out into the world.
You and Toji ride to the top floor in silence. The key card weighs heavy in your hand and you can’t help the racing of your heart as the numbers above the doors keep climbing. When the doors open you and Toji move at the same time to step into the hallway and toward your room.
Not only are you on the top floor but also in the north east corner. Although the walk to your room seems a mile long, it gives you the sense of greater privacy feeling so far away. There are no sounds from the other doors you pass that you can detect. Knowing Toji’s heightened senses, you wonder if he hears anything. You peek over at him but his face sits in the same flat expression.
When you arrive, you swipe the key card above the handle and enter the room. There’s a small area at the entrance where you both take off your socks and shoes. Toji is barefoot in less than a minute while you’re still bent at the waist working your shoes off.
Once you’re done and are upright again you stride further into the room. It’s not unlike any other pricey hotel you’ve stayed at with its marble counters and hardwood floors. The only difference would be that there’s only one window with the curtains pulled shut for privacy. You do, however, like the large circular bed in the middle of the room.
It’s on a raised section of the floor, and instead of hardwood the bed is surrounded by soft carpet. It’s sunken into the platform and dressed in white bedding. A round light fixture hovers directly above, like a spotlight on the main event.
It excites you. So you follow the feeling and waste no time getting everything prepared just the way you like it.
“Feel free to grab anything from the bar,” you say over your shoulder.
You hear the mini fridge open and close then the hiss of a bottle opening. You feel Toji’s eyes on you, watching as you flit around the room and grab towels from the bathroom along with extra blankets from the closet by the door. You toss them onto the bed and arrange them to your liking before jumping on top and rolling around your makeshift nest.
“What are you doing?” he asks, coming to stand at the edge of the bed. He takes a sip of his bottled beer.
“I want to make sure it smells like us before we get started.” You roll around a bit more. Spread your arms and legs out like you’re making a snow angel. “Come here.”
When he doesn’t move you crawl on your hands and knees and take hold of his arm. You try pulling him down to you but he doesn’t budge. Not a single inch. You try again, but are only met with Toji’s laughter.
“Told you already,” the smile he gives you is nothing short of mocking, “you’re a weak little thing.”
Your lips press together tightly, not appreciating the way he taunts you. So when your hand lets go of his arm and your fingers glide over to tease at the hem of his sweatpants you grin triumphantly when he jerks away.
“Oi!”
You giggle at the scowl Toji throws your way. He downs the rest of his beer and tosses the bottle onto the floor carelessly and it rolls away onto the hardwood. Your eyes follow him as he purposefully walks in an arc to get to the other side of the bed before plopping down onto it, landing on his back with a huff.
“You have to roll around so your scent gets everywhere,” you say.
“M’not a child.” He crosses his arms under his head, shutting his eyes. “Not gonna roll.”
“Fine.”
You surprise him for a second time by swiftly darting across the mattress and straddling his hips. His green eyes fly open and he looks at you like you’re absolutely insane. But you pay him no mind as you grab the edges of the blanket beneath him and fold each end over his front. You hold them closed tightly and sway him a little back and forth. You’re impressed with yourself that you can even manage that with how huge he is.
“Having fun?” Toji deadpans.
“A little,” you admit.
Next, you grab a towel from behind you and place it over his head, rubbing hair with it like you would if you were drying it after a shower. Toji says something but it’s unintelligible beneath the towel.
You pull it away from his face. “What was that?”
“Said it smells nice.”
“Really?” You give it a whiff. “What’s it smell like?”
“Like a plum. Tart with just the right amount of sweetness,” he says. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip. “Smells like you.”
“You’re not going soft on me now are—”
You gasp when Toji’s hand shoots out to take hold of your arm. He presses his nose to your wrist, inhaling deeply. The intimate action makes your lower belly erupt with butterflies.
As if sensing your reaction, Toji sits up. His face hovers just an inch away from you and he holds onto your hips to keep you from scooting backward. Your noses touch, lips just barely brushing. Lust swims in the pools of his green irises and you see your own eagerness reflected in them. You spend several long heated seconds exchanging warm breaths before you lean in, closing the gap and pressing your lips to his.
It starts out slowly, both of you acquainting yourselves with the taste and feel of each other, before it picks up. You’re not sure which one of you initiated it, but when the kiss turns needier and hungrier neither of you protest. You moan when his tongue passes through your lips, the wet muscle hunting for more of your taste.
The heat between you starts to rise and your mind tells you that you’re both wearing too many clothes. Your hands scramble to the hem of Toji’s shirt and start tugging until he raises his arms and you pull it over his head. Your lips are disconnected for a moment, but find each other again when his torso is bare.
Your hands wander the expanse of his sculpted chest, fingers pressing into firm muscle hidden beneath hot smooth flesh. Your touch ventures further down to his stomach where you explore every dip and crevice of abdominal muscle etched to perfection. You pull a gasp from the alpha beneath you when your fingers ghost over where the thin trail of hair on his lower stomach disappears into the waistband of his sweatpants.
Toji growls into your mouth before taking the bottom of your shirt and jerking it upward, impatient in his movements. You lift your arms and he rips it the rest of the way off you, leaving only your bra to cover your chest. The shirt is discarded before Toji attaches his mouth to yours again, but he doesn’t stay there. Hot lips start making their way lower, leaving a wet trail down your throat until his teeth are nipping and teasing at the gland on your neck. You gasp at the sensation and feel the vibrations of Toji’s laughter against your collarbone.
“Asshole,” you say, breathlessly.
He smiles against your skin, not bothering to argue, as his hands settle on your waist and give a firm squeeze. “Stand up.”
It’s not an alpha command, but you move as if it is. Your feet sink into the mattress and you hold onto Toji’s shoulders for balance. He undoes the button and pulls down your zipper, and in one motion he has your bottom half completely bare in front of him. His face presses into your hip as he helps you get each foot free.
Now you stand only in your bra, watching as he tugs down his sweatpants to reveal himself to you. He’s half hard but you can already tell he’s definitely the largest you’ve ever had. While he works his pants off you reach behind and undo your bra, letting it fall off your arms before you toss it onto the floor to land with the rest of your clothes.
Toji’s touch is on you again. Warm, calloused hands brush up and down your thighs before hooking at the back of your knees. He pulls you down so you’re once again straddling him. He kisses you, briefly but with more fervor, before he leans his head down and takes one of your nipples in his mouth.
You bring a hand to the back of his head, fingers threading through the strands as you keep him close. A whimper escapes you as the tip of his tongue expertly traces circles around your sensitive nub. Your lower body clenches when he moves to your other breast, lips firmly attaching themselves and giving a light tug.
Your free hand reaches down between your bodies to take hold of Toji’s cock. His base is nestled among a patch of dark curls, and the more your hand works up and down his length the more of him you feel. Mentally, and maybe physically, you’re drooling at his girth. And the thick vein running on the underside of his shaft makes you eager to have him inside you already, so you pump him earnestly until he’s fully erect. You keep at it until suddenly he swats your hand away.
“Toji? What—”
Your words catch in your throat when his hand suddenly dives in between your legs. Toji’s fingers run through your folds, humming in satisfaction with how soaking wet you already are. He only gives a single teasing prod at your entrance before he plunges two thick fingers inside you.
Gasping, your hands clutch onto his biceps. You pant as his long fingers reach deeper than you ever could on your own. He sets a fast pace from the start, making you choke on your own moans as he finger fucks you without mercy. His fingers curl to find that special spot inside you that has you sinking your nails into his skin. And when his palm presses down on your clit your heart literally skips a beat. Every precise movement of his fingers has the coil tightening in your belly, has you teetering on the edge.
“I’m almost—” You let out a whimper. “I’m close.”
“Yeah, you are.” Toji pushes his nose against your cheek, tongue licking at the curve of your jaw. “Can feel how tight you’re squeezing my fingers.”
You’re almost there. Just a little bit more and then you’ll—
The tension, the heat. It’s gone. The end you were so close to capturing is suddenly ripped away. You stare at the pair of fingers that should be inside you, but instead are shiny and glistening before your eyes.
“Toji.” You whine as your bottom lip juts out into a pout. “Why’d you do that? I was—”
But your protests are silenced when Toji shushes you. He lowers his slick covered hand and you watch as he strokes himself. You swallow as he delves back through your folds for more lubricant. Your hips twitch at the contact and your pussy clenches hungrily around nothing as it waits for Toji to finish preparing himself.
“Don’t worry, omega.” Toji’s voice is barely above a whisper. A soft promise just for you. “I’ll give you what you want.”
You raise your hips as Toji lines himself up with your entrance, pressing his tip against you before slowly entering. Your breathing comes in short spurts as you try to adjust to his size. Each inch burns but it soon gives way to pleasure when he bottoms out.
You’re both panting when you’re fully seated on top of him. Toji leans back on his hands, green eyes staring up at you.
“Take it,” he says. “Take what you need.”
You lean forward, holding his face in your palms, and kiss him. When you lift your hips, you whine into his mouth and bring yourself back down. You plant your hands on his shoulders and set your pace. You pull back as you bounce on his cock, feeling the familiar tightness once again.
“That’s it. Keep going.” One of Toji’s hands comes to rest at the base of your neck, a subtle guide to your actions that barely registers in the back of your currently one track driven mind. “Doing so good, omega.”
He’s called you that several times tonight, but you can’t help clench around him when he says it now. Full of pride and encouragement. A primal instinct in you is reacting to this man, this alpha, and you like it.
Suddenly, Toji pushes forward and pulls you to his chest, one arm around your waist while his other hand takes hold of your chin and points it upward. His mouth hovers over your exposed flesh, over the sensitive gland on the side of your neck. He doesn’t need you to tell him when, you can feel the way you’re coming together.
You slam down onto him once, twice, and then you cry out as the tight coil within finally snaps at the same time Toji sinks his teeth into you. Sharp canines pierce your mating gland, sending a shiver down your spine.
Blood trickles out of the wound and Toji laps away at the trail of crimson, leaving none behind. You wrap your arms around him. You want him closer, as close as you can be.
You feel dazed, like the world has shifted on its axis. Your head drops as a fog clouds your mind, struggling to conjure up any other thought besides Toji. But all you feel is the hot aftershocks of pleasure coursing through you as the familiar scent of cypress and cinnamon surrounds you.
The world shifts again and this time you land on something soft. You blink your eyes open, realizing you’re on your back now. Toji hovers above you. His broad shoulders take over your field of vision so all you see is him. His black hair hangs in sweaty strands down the sides of his face. Those emerald green of his eyes are locked onto you. It makes your heart flutter.
“Alpha.”
Toji’s expression softens when you call to him. Plead for him. He lowers his head to nose at the mark he’s just made. You flinch, still sensitive.
“Did so good for me, omega.” His praise makes you keen. You arch your back to touch your chest to his. “Now it’s my turn.”
He’s still hard inside you, not having found his release yet. He wraps your legs around his waist and starts moving. Like earlier, he doesn’t wait to set a quick pace. His hips pound into you as he chases his own pleasure.
Whimpers escape you as he bullies your sensitive pussy. He braces his forearms on either side of your head, caging you in. Instinctively, your arms wrap around his back, keeping him trapped inside your locked limbs.
“I’m gonna…fuck,” Toji hisses in your ear. “Wanna cum inside you.”
“It’s okay.” You hold onto him tighter. “M’on birth control.”
After your admission his thrusts turn erratic. You feel the swelling at the base of his cock grow larger and larger. He’s hot and heavy inside you. All around you. He’s overwhelming but you don’t want him to stop.
“Almost there,” Toji grunts.
“Please, Alpha.”
Toji moans, both from your plea and the way you tighten yourself around his cock. Your body wants him. Can’t get enough. You’re his and now it’s time to make him yours.
One last powerful thrust sends Toji over the edge. His knot swells inside of you, sealing you both together, as his hot seed paints your walls. He sighs, heavy and satisfied as he continues to gently rock into you.
The haze of your mind is beginning to clear. Your body slowly becomes heavier even as small shocks of pleasure continue to jolt through your system. You raise a trembling hand to the back of Toji’s head. Taking a fistful of his hair, you sharply yank his head to the side and bite down hard enough to pierce the gland on his neck.
Toji grunts. His body stiffens as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. You smooth a hand down his back as you lick away any remaining blood, and his body gradually relaxes until he’s pressing his full weight on top of you.
You huff, trying to shift to get a better chance at not suffocating. But when you pull away a little too quickly, you both hiss when there’s a harsh tug at where your connected.
“Sorry,” you apologize. Your hands are quick to soothe, helping Toji adjust his body so you’re both comfortable. “How do you feel?”
Toji still has his face hidden in your neck. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to.
Although the bonding isn’t as potent as it would be during your heat it doesn’t lessen the connection you’ve created with this man. You both cling to each other as you struggle to take it all in, anxious about how this decision is already changing you.
Instincts you’ve ignored until now are already clawing their way out of the deep pits of your subconscious. The urge to soothe, to nurture, to submit is nearly overpowering. It will completely consume you if you let it.
Toji’s large hand is splayed out across your rib cage, thumb caressing the curve of your breast. His mind races while his heart beats wildly as he clings to you. His actions aren’t lining up with who he’s been up to this point. He’s never been the type to attach himself to anyone or anything. Thankfully, you feel his building resolve to chip away at the unwanted bits of his new appetite as a bonded alpha.
You sigh, relieved you made the right choice, as you card your fingers through Toji’s hair until his breathing evens out and he’s fast asleep.
But you stay wide awake well into the early morning. How could you surrender to sleep with all your life’s new possibilities waiting for you to conceive of them?
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Dividers by @rookthornesartistry.
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frogchiro · 1 year ago
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okay wait why am i now just hearing about butcher/slasher ghost, and why am i foaming at the mouth!!!???! like ripping apart pillows, tearing down walls, doing flips—RAHHH i am officially OBSESSED!!
i read it and thought of texas chainsaw massacre, but it’s the 2006 one so like simon is an absolute menace but he sees a pretty lady who’s new to town and his cold killer heart just can’t help but swoon :((( and she’s so polite, nervous, and timid because it’s so different in this town and simon with his cursed blessed keen sense of smell
OH MY GOD BUT SLASHER GRAVES IN A SMALL TOWN DOWN IN TEXAS!!!?
so sorry if this is a lot!! 😣 i’m just a little obsessed 🤭🤭 either way, have an amazing day!! stay hydrated and make sure to eat 🩷🩷
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HOW THE FUCK DID I NEVER THINK OF SLASHER GRAVES
My dear, I know that you probably expected Butcher!Ghost but I'm highjacking this ask now and writing slasher Graves because oh my god-
The setting I imagine to be in a small southern town in Texas, and I imagine it to be like one of those creepy, small southern gothic towns with the old abandoned churches, houses and old beaten up signs that say "His return is near" or "God is watching you", you get the idea.
And there we have Philip Graves who owns a big ranch passed down for generations in his family, and by big I mean HUGE. Enormous pastures, corn fields, cows, horses, pigs and all that which means he and his name is quite well know in the area which admittedly makes his...hobby a lot easier than you'd think. Graves has friends in high places and he's buddy buddy with the town's sheriff, basically the golden child of the town which means that both the police and the sheriff will turn a blind eye to the "sudden disappearances" of people, be it locals or newcomers to town.
But the thing is that Philip Graves is bored. Bored out of his mind and nothing seems to excite him anymore, not even the desperate hysterical screams of his victims do the thing anymore. Sure he definitely has the money, the looks that refined well with age, he's respected and liked in the community but the truth is-he doesn't give a shit about it.
I imagine that Slasher!Graves is an incredibly arrogant man, and while he may put on a pleasant facade, his accent a thick and purring drawl and his southern charm do the trick he's a whimsical and capricious prick who gets easily bored and when he does...Well let's just say that it doesn't end pretty.
So imagine how surprised he was when he was in town once in his pickup truck, cowboy hat low on his brow as he watched the cars go by when suddenly his eyes were caught by a bus, one of those that travel for very long distances and the only person who got out was you. To say that Philip's interest was piqued would be an understatement; what's a pretty soft little thing like you doing in this bumfuck nowhere in Texas?
A pretty young lady, seemingly around 20, who looked like a lost little lamb, but just what were you doing here? Everything about you screamed that you're obviously not from here and while he could see even from a distance that you tried to act confident, his sharp blue eyes saw right through that act-you were scared shitless and more than lost. Were you here to visit someone? Or maybe...you are running from something? Whatever the case was, you definitely caught his attention in more than one way.
You just looked...so soft, so pretty, lovely he'd even say and I'm sorry but this Graves that we're talking about would definitely be a little misogynistic :(( He's old fashioned, maybe it comes with his age or maybe due to how his pa raised him but the further he observed you the more he he couldn't help but think about how such a pretty young lady like yourself should be married off already to a nice gentleman, getting provided for like you deserve and in return takin' care of your husband too; bringing him beer, cookin' and popping out a kid or two :((
His train of thoughts got interrupted only by a loud booming voice calling out his name cheerfully and when he turned around annoyed to see who was interrupting him, it turned out to be old Michael, an old friend of his pa. He greeted him politely but when he turned around to watch you a little more it turned out that you already wandered off, sneaky girl.
Philip cursed under his breath but on the other hand he decided to just ask the sheriff about you since he knows that the man has access to all the information about any newcomers to town. It looks like his bored streak came to an end <3
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lady-of-endless · 6 months ago
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Ghiaccio x reader romantic headcanons (SFW+NSFW)
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Author's Note: I'm so soft after this, it's pathetic. You voted for this to get posted first so here it is. Sorry that it's all over the place but so is my heart. Hope you will enjoy it! Warning: longer than my usual posts because I love him.
Other general and random headcanons are here.
(SFW)
- He doesn't have a type, he doesn't care if you're a ray of sunshine or a badass. All he cares about is trust and if you can stick with him and his harsh exterior when everything goes wrong. However, if you are also a Passione assassin like him, things will go more smoothly than having feelings for some outside of the mafia. He already thinks that having feelings for someone is a double-edged blade because of his occupation but it would be even worse if you're not in Passione as it can endanger both of you more.
- Ghiaccio generally feels a lot. He goes through many emotions and thoughts at once, and that's why he needs to lash out so often. But when it comes to feelings about you, they're so contradicting that he can't even get rid of them by letting them out at once. For example, he rolls his eyes at your antics and then the next minute he stares at your smile like it's the cure for anything in this world. You're both the bane of his existence and his personalized paradise. Ghiaccio isn't the type to be confused about his feelings, contrary to the general belief, he knows the meaning of his feelings. However, he prefers not to think about why he wants your presence, as it might trigger something he knows exists deep inside him. A complicated feeling.
- You will have to be the first one to confess. When you do, Ghiaccio's whole body freezes (and not because of his Stand). He stares at you in disbelief and a slight hint of terror crosses his eyes. Why terror? Because he realizes that he was falling for you too for long before. He craves this kind of happiness but he is also scared of it. He lets your words sink in for a while.
"Say it again..." He demands, staring at you.
- He loves that you can stand up against him when he teases you as a form of affection he's comfortable with but he can't get rid of a constant thought from the back of his mind. The thought that one day, his words would hurt you, that one day you'll get sick of him being like that.
- Ghiaccio doesn't fall in love easily but when he reaches that point, his intensity is directed to this new feeling. Expect his love to be intense but profound and honest. He didn't get the chance to care for someone so deeply and he wants to do it right.
- If you ever get severely injured and you're recovering, no one will get him to leave your bedside. When he first finds you like that, he will shake you by the shoulders, calling out your name with palpable despair in his tone. He will stay by your side constantly, demanding more coffee from Melone and a break from any mission from Risotto, only to watch over you. It's unhealthy and he will deny everything once you get better. The thought of losing the one who accepts, understands, and loves him, makes him sick with worry.
- Typical ice meets fire trope, but not as you think. Ghiaccio is all about ice, even his name means that, sure, but he has fire inside of him that keeps him going, keeps him on the edge every time. It's a fire that matches your calmness which is grounding for him. Sometimes, the roles switch, so there will always be a contrast.
- Ghiaccio is extremely honest and it's both a blessing and a curse. Sometimes this will spark some arguments and sometimes it will fix them by being honest about his thoughts. His words are straightforward and his intentions are clear. He's not trying to be subtle and he's not trying to hide anything.
- Ghiaccio is not afraid of showing affection, he's not a coward, but he's just learning how to express it more efficiently. He's analytical and this applies to gestures of affection as well, he'll take his time to observe what you like the most and what you don't. Please be grateful for that.
- However, whatever you might like, his preferred love language is banter and physical touch, in private. He is a blunt man, but that doesn't mean he's extroverted to have words of affirmation as a love language. Don't expect compliments from him but don't be surprised when he encourages you in a way that might come off as intense.
You might be frowning in the mirror, fixing your looks, and he'll come from behind you to tell you in an annoyed tone
"You're already pretty as hell stop fussing about it for fucks sake." and then roll his eyes and give you a kiss on the forehead.
But that's it, don't expect more words from him. Ghiaccio is also touch-starved because no one dared get close enough to him to touch him affectionately so when you do, he finds himself wanting more. But he's also curious about how it feels to touch someone like that and that's how it starts. He discovers that he enjoys giving it more, the feeling, your reactions, and everything about it.
- How do others see it? Many don't see a change in his usual behavior besides the fact that he always glances over you for many reasons. Risotto is presenting a mission? Ghiaccio looks at you for a reaction. Are you fighting a target? His eyes are on you. You do your usual stuff around? He's observing you. Are you not feeling well? His eyes follow you until you two are alone and he asks what's wrong. In conclusion, he gets more thoughtful.
(NSFW)
- Ghiaccio is quick to discover that getting intimate with you clears his mind and gets him sharper. Letting out his strongest and boldest emotions with you, the one he trusts the most and loves, clears his mind. It's just an observation, he already enjoys getting physical with you too much to care for other benefits.
- He's touch-starved, so he's relatively easy to fluster and he hates that. It doesn't take a lot for you to turn him on. One day, you notice that the lenses of his glasses are a bit dirty and feel bold enough to do something about it. If you decide to just take them off without warning and wipe the lenses casually like nothing happened, he's shocked. This audacity of yours gets him bewitched. So, Ghiaccio is a simple man regarding turn-ons, just show him that you care about those little things about him and show some willingness to take risks and he's done.
- His hair is unexpectedly sensitive. Play with his curls and it will make him shiver. He'll become all yours in that moment.
- Despite what everyone thinks, he'll never accept letting his anger out on you in bed. But that doesn't mean that his mannerisms will be soft either. With Ghiaccio, is hard to predict how it will go. Most of the time it will be rough but also slow and deep.
- He's a genuine switch but leading to dom. He is fine with you taking the lead from time to time but having control over you is much more appealing. He enjoys being a brat tamer but he's also a whining brat.
- He has a ridiculously high stamina. Seriously, where does he store all this strength? He's also motivated. Seeing you frowning a bit when you move your legs the next day is stroking his ego.
- So, because Ghiaccio is intense in bed too, aftercare is a must. Aftercare consists of him putting your pieces back together by throwing a blanket over you, making you tea, and holding you to his chest as he stares at the ceiling (don't worry, it's a good sign, you blew him away). However, shortly after that, he's knocked out, getting the best sleep of his life.
- He doesn't leave marks on purpose but he just can't help it. Surprising enough, he's not as possessive as you'd expect, to leave marks to show that you're his. No. Ghiaccio just enjoys hearing your gasp coming from the bathroom as you notice the aftermath of his desire. He smirks to himself like a brat.
He might be a fan of quickies and he's also the one to come up with the idea. After the session, he goes on with whatever he had to get done like he hadn't destroyed you earlier. It's both hot and annoying.
- Vocal, of course, a lot of grunting, and growling. It goes hand in hand with his primal tendencies. You'll get used to the consensual biting, hair-pulling, pushing down. He lives for raw passion when it gets too much to handle.
- Any kinks? Temperature play is something you already expect him to enjoy. For him, it's about how ice - something that has been in his life for years since he got his Stand, meets an element of you - your warm skin. Besides your reactions, he is hypnotized by how the heat of your skin melts the ice and how dewy it looks afterward. Other than that he's not very experimental because his almost aggressive passion is enough.
- Of course, he takes off his glasses but he hates that because his point of view gets blurry, and can't enjoy your details. However, you can't be able to stop him from wearing them when you're on top. That's a sight he needs to see clearly.
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chaussetteblanche · 1 year ago
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I had this idea in my head for a while; With Kit Connor x gf reader, where she comforts him when he was pressured to come out
thank you <3
pairing : kit connor x reader summary : you are by kit's side as he deals with being forced to come out word count : 900 words warnings : swearing
note : the fact that some so-called "fans" watched the show and had the nerve of accusing him of queer-baiting and pressured into coming out when he was only eighteen is just disgusting to me, check yourselves y'all
You'd been dating Connor for a while. Being an actor, you'd met at some party he had attended with the Heartstopper cast. You'd met Yasmin first, and had immediately hit it off. She was unbelievably funny and down-to-earth. She had introduced you to the rest of the cast, and, naturally, you'd been drawn to Kit. You had exchanged numbers through shy smiles and shaky hands, the rest was history.
Dating someone in the acting world was both a blessing and a curse. As an actor, Kit understood and could relate to your struggles with roles, management, fame, social media... just the industry in general. You bonded over similar experiences as bisexuals who could pass as straight and who didn't always bother with labels or clarifying their sexualities. But as an actor, he was also often on the move, filming thousands of kilometres away from you or in a different time zone altogether.
But even with all this, being with Kit was easy. You both clicked, you just worked. You communicated your feelings and needs and even though you'd had your fair share of arguments, you loved him more than anything. He made you and your life so much better.
So you can imagine that when people he started being accused of queer-baiting and being pressured by people who missed the meaning of the show entirely to come out, you didn't take it well. You loved Kit with all your heart and would tear the world to pieces just for him.
"I just can't believe these people! How dare they? How can they just- sit there and demand this of you!" you'd ranted one night. "You're eighteen for Pete's sake! You don't owe them or anyone anything! Fucking cunts, it's just ridiculous that they think so!" Kit watched you from where he was sitting on the couch, running a hand over his face. You sigh, licking your lips as you trudged over to him. "I'm sorry," you speak softly, standing in between his legs. He looks up at you, shaking his head. "You've got nothin' for apologize for, luv," "But I shouldn't go off like this, it's not fair to you, this negative energy..."
He pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. Your hand immediately goes to his hair, gently scratching his scalp as the other wounds itself around his shoulders. "I would make them vanish off the face of the Earth if I could, I swear, I-" "You did all you could, my love, it's already more than enough." He meant the countless posts you'd made concerning his situation as well as other actors', speaking up on the issue in many interviews... He was right, you'd done everything in your power. But it still wasn't enough. And it was killing you.
"But it's not, though. They just won't stop! Where is their bloody decency? And you don't deserve this, any of this. It's so unfair." "I know," He lifted his head up to look at you. Your hand cupped his jaw before you kissed him deeply. "I can take it," he assured against your lips. You pulled away, frowning. "But you shouldn't have to. It's so unfair. I wish we could just shut them all up, tell them to fuck off." "But you've done that already, haven't you?" he chuckled. "Yes, but clearly the message didn't get through." He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. "Stop worrying about me. I'll take care of it." "What will you do?" "I don't know yet, but I'll figure it out."You'd seen the tweet before you'd seen him. He was supposed to come over to your place for Halloween, you were planning on attending a party together, dressed as Shaggy and Velma. You were halfway through getting ready. You had your outfit on and were just getting started on your makeup when your phone started blowing up. Confused, you picked it up, seeing Kit's tweet everywhere. You slapped a hand over your mouth, scrolling down Twitter. Even though you were furious at the people who had brought him to this, you couldn't help but feel proud of him for taking control of the situation and coming out on "his own terms", if they could be qualified as such.
Your doorbell rings and you all but run to open the door. Outside stands Kit, looking absolutely beaten. You bite your lip, eyebrows furrowing. "I just saw," you breathe. He walks in and pulls you into a big hug, sighing shakily into your hair. You rub his back. "Oh, baby," you coo, "I'm so sorry, you don't deserve any of this,"
You usher him to your couch, closing the door and start making some tea. You set both your cups down on the coffee table, sitting down next to him. You take his hands in yours, caressing his knuckles. "How do you feel?" "I- I'm just disappointed, I guess. I thought people, especially after watching the show, would be more understanding, empathetic... just- more human, I guess." "Yeah, people are disappointing." "But I wanted to be the one to say you, you know? I didn't want that taken away from me, I didn't want to be outed." "And you were totally right, you took control of the situation and I'm so proud of you. You changed the narrative." He gave you a small smile.
Kit laid his face in your lap, hugging your thighs. "It still sucks, though," he spoke, voice muffled. You nodded, running a comforting hand up and down his back. "Yeah, it sucks. Do you wanna stay here tonight and watch some scary movies?" "Yes, please."
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tswhiisftteedr · 6 months ago
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Not to be rude but you accidentally put val's story in vox's masterlist instead. Srry I didn't feel comfy dming you. Nothing against you at all I'm just a coward wanting to hide in anon haha. Ig while I'm here could I get vox general hcs pls?
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What the Tv do? ☆ Vox General Headcanon + Drabbles (SFW & NSFW)
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☆ Vox General headcanon + Vox x Gn!Reader(Employee!Reader??):
Some general thoughts about the tv man and also his relationship with the ‘reader’. This is silly, this is fun, fluffy and smutty.
Warnings: Mature Content, Not Proofread, Drinking, Death(literally overdose on coffe nothing gruesome), Drug use(c0caine and others substances), Sadistic Tendencies, Dub-Con, Power Imbalance/Power Play, Obsessive and Possessive Tendencies and Acts, Stalking, Voyeurism & Exhibitionism, Boss x Employee, Pet Play?(Just collaring and slight animal based pet names), Valentino.
Words: Total: 5496 = Sfw - 2609 + Nsfw - 2887
Note: I only wrote 1 drabble, i might add more if people request it about the specific headcanon they want more on. so I’m not good with request like these, I like when they are more specific so I have sort of something to base my writing on, so sorry if you anon or people don’t like what I’ve wrote, r.i.p. >:/ Though tell me if you want more!!
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☆ more under the cut. ☆
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SFW:
☕︎ Coffee addict and 𓏊 Alcoholic
Vox is the figurative and quite literally incarnation of the ‘don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee’ phrase.
But we’re talking coffees instead of coffee with him — two cups straight out of bed to be precise. When totalling the day’s consumption, Vox indulges on average, 6-7 cups of 10 oz coffee; in addition to his morning coffees, he likes to have a mid-morning cup, then two during lunch and finally 1-2 cups during the afternoon depending how late he is working.
Is this per say, ‘healthy’? No, not at all, Vox couldn't care less — worst ‘worst’ case scenario, he quote on quote dies, the coffee he had intake ends up intoxicating him due to the splurging amount of it, turning this mondaine drink into a lethal liquid for the overlord’s body. His heart would stop, sub-consequently, him and his body would be out.
Though the good thing — or bad, it all depends on your angle — about hell is that in about the span of 10 minutes his body will have fully regenerate and be back open for business. Some sinners call it it a curse, he calls it a blessing, as this part of the ‘eternal punishment’ practically makes him immortal.
So is he going to work on regulating his caffeine intake? Obviously not!
Worst thing he gets from his ‘little problem’ is a heart attack, and they don’t permanently keep him down. — Sure, they hurt like a bitch, and he would rather not be having them at all to be truthful.
But he honestly he doesn’t see his bimonthly cardiac arrests as that steep of a price to pay. (Honestly how can such a smart businessman be so dumb about his health. * face palming and baffled at the idiocy of it all *)
Now when alcohol is the subject of conversation, Vox takes a slightly different approach, albeit one still characterized by overindulgence.
You see, he prides himself on being the epitome of a charming, classy, and self-controlled casual drinker, compared to his drunkard of a pattern —Valentino— our lovely show host with anger issues and both inferiority and superiority complex is a sophisticated and savvy man.
However, beneath this facade of self-control, which he upholds quite well to the public eye, hides his obvious alcoholism issues.
While he may not be stumbling and blubbering around, picking fights,— in most instances at least— Vox is certainly what you might call a “day drinker."
In fact, this is actually a canonical trait, which was displayed in episode two of the show; Him discussing with others Vees on how to deal with the radio demon’s comeback, a drink in hand.
I presume thatit was a scotch on the rocks due to it’s colour but also it’s historical relevance in relation to Vox’s person— Scotch whisky poured over ice, gained popularity in the 1950s primarily in Western countries such as the United States, the United Kingdom, and Canada.
It became a symbol of sophistication and leisure, often enjoyed in upscale bars, clubs, and lounges frequented by the affluent and fashionable crowd of the era.
Additionally, its popularity was bolstered by the rise of cocktail culture during the mid-20th century, as well as the increasing availability of Scotch whisky in international markets. — this fits quite nicely Vox’s character as it is both a drink of his time on earth but also one that remains relevant in the contemporary era.
It easily mirrors Vox's overarching desire to maintain relevance and significance, both in the present and in the ever-evolving future.
The overlord definitely adhere to ‘it’s five o’clock somewhere’ religiously. Though he does prefer to enjoy his daily drink around 5 p.m. PRT (Pride Ring Time).
He will occasionally enjoys a drink with his lunch, often opting for wine, although this isn't a regular occurrence for the man.
As someone constantly under stress, with his mind racing to keep up with the ever-changing trends and opinions in hell, Vox is a type to indulge in a nightcap or two before bed.
It helps him unwind and achieve the relaxed state of mind necessary for a restful night's sleep.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Sleep
While the notion of ‘Vox's dreams playing on his screen while he's asleep’ is an amusing concept for fanfiction or artwork, I personally find the idea of ‘the VoxTek logo bouncing around like the DVD logo’ to be more fitting for Vox.
Before delving further, it's important to note that initially, it wasn't necessarily the VoxTek logo projected on his screen; however, I'll address this shortly.
The reason I lean towards the DVD logo concept is because I find it unlikely that Vox's screen would be completely black during sleep. A completely dark screen would imply the device is completely off, no energy is being received or given by it, which would suggest that it is no longer alive. Having some activity on Vox’s screen while asleep would signify that his program is still active, indicating he's still functioning, essentially alive.
Now regarding the widely shared headcanon, I have my own personal take on it.
When Vox first manifested in hell, his 'real name' appeared on screen. By 'real name,' I mean the one he had on Earth, which I believe wasn't Vox —That name seems too futuristic for a person born in the early 1900s or the kind of name you'd associate with a 1950s businessman— Vox is a name he chose for himself after death, symbolizing a fresh start, though I do think that his real name might also have started with a V.
(This perspective extends to other 'Vees' as well, although Velvette seems more plausible as a given name, I suspect it might not be her original one. Valentino, on the other hand, feels like a name assigned to him, but he too might have adopted a new one after death.)
Initially, Vox was unaware of his old name appearing on his screen while he slept since he wasn't conscious during that time. It wasn't until about half a year into his time in hell, during which he introduced himself as Vox to everyone, that one of his acquaintances pointed out this aspect of his physiology. Something along the lines of "Who's V———?" or "Why does V——— show on your screen while you sleep?" triggered a cascade of reactions in him.
Firstly, he panicked, realizing that people had access to his old identity. Secondly, he was puzzled by this phenomenon since no TV he had encountered displayed such behavior, which was normal considering DVDs weren't invented before 1996. — Hell sure was weird, he possessed technological features as part of his physiology before they were even invented— Lastly, this revelation instilled in him a new fear of sleeping.
This behavior stemmed from Vox's desire to construct a fresh existence in hell, complete with a new identity, image, empire, etc. The thought of others accessing his old name and exploiting it to uncover details about his past, including his behaviors, weaknesses, and tactics, filled him with dread.
As a result, he became hyper-vigilant, refusing to sleep unless he was certain of his solitude, fearing the potential repercussions of his former identity being known.
It wasn't until the mid 1960s that Vox had finally managed to upgrade his system, replacing ‘V———‘ with 'Vox'. However, even after this upgrade, he still harboured reservations about sleeping around others for about a year or two. He feared a potential glitch that could revert his screen to displaying his previous name.
Around the late 1970s he had made an adjustment to this aspect of his body once more, replacing 'Vox' with the VoxTek logo after a certain moth had suggested it.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sexuality
Our beloved Tv Demon a canonical bisexual man, but I personally believe that while he may have bisexuality as his sexual orientation, — his attraction to men was something he only came to realize after death. Although there were subtle hints of his attraction to the same gender based on how he felt about them, he unfortunately didn't grasp them while still alive;
It would have been the late 1950s, and Vox had been in hell for about a year or two. In his earthly life, he had been with his fair share of women, and even in the "surprisingly not so fiery pits of the underworld," his ability to attract partners hadn't diminished much once got over his TV head appearance and let place for his charming and savvy persona to take over.
His love life seemed unchanged, perhaps with occasional exploration of new kinks, until that fateful night of October 11, 195X...
Vox had gone out for a drink after a grueling day at work, back when he was still toiling away at a low-paying job in an electronics factory, toasters, vacuum, etc. Despite the shitty work he had to go through, he had the perk of taking home broken scraps, which eventually played a role in his rise to success. But let's refocus on his night out, shall we?
He walked into his newfound favorite spot, a comedy bar where he sought solace in laughter and libations after a hard day. Arriving just as the performer began their set, he headed straight to the bar for his usual whiskey on the rocks, with nothing else on his mind. It wasn't until the comedian delivered a particularly hilarious joke that Vox turned to look at them and found his attraction piqued.
It was evident that they were a man with the specific style flashy outfit and makeup they wore. The voice was also a dead giveaway. The person now standing on stage, delivering one funny punchline after another, was a drag queen – a stunning one in Vox's eyes.
He couldn't tear his gaze away; there was something irresistibly captivating about the humorous individual on stage.
After the performance, as they made their way to the bar, Vox seized the opportunity. He introduced himself, and they exchanged pleasantries. They shared drinks and engaged in lively conversation, making for a truly enjoyable night that ended with a bang, quite literally.
In the morning, as clarity returned, Vox couldn't help but feel confused. He had never been attracted to men before, so he initially chalked it up to the alcohol or the fact that his night companion appeared so feminine that he mistook them for a woman.
However, as memories of the night flooded back, he couldn't deny his genuine attraction to every aspect of his partner, even the unmistakably male parts.
Initially, it felt strange to Vox as he reflected on the experience. However, after hours of deep contemplation, everything started to fall into place.
Vox realized he had always felt an affinity towards men, though expressing it as "liking men" might have appeared odd to outsiders. When he used that phrase, it wasn't in the context of sexual or romantic attraction but more of an admiration.
Yet, upon further reflection, he acknowledged that his feelings surpassed mere admiration.
He had never entertained the idea of it being anything akin to sexual or romantic attraction, but his recent encounter forced him to reconsider as he contemplated his life and the events of the previous night.
Vox liked men;
— Vox had always been drawn to the men of his time who exuded masculine confidence and assertiveness, finding their presence alluring and desiring to be in their company constantly.
He liked when they wore classic masculine fashion, such as tailored suits with narrow lapels, fitted jackets, and straight-leg trousers. These outfits oozed sophistication and professionalism, and Vox admired the attention to detail displayed.
Additionally, he liked when men would add classic accessories like fedora hats, skinny ties, cufflinks, and pocket squares to their outfit, they added to the polished and stylish appearance.
The preppy style also appealed to Vox, as he admired men who wore V-neck sweaters, button-down shirts, khaki trousers, and loafers. This style exuded a sense of casual elegance and refinement that he found attractive.
He also had a penchant for rebellious men who embraced a non-conformist aesthetic, often seen in leather jackets, denim jeans, white T-shirts, and motorcycle boots.
Vox liked when men were smart and witty, could keep up with the conversation and also teach something along the way.
Vox liked men who exuded strength and athleticism, finding their ability to handle themselves physically appealing. For instance, witnessing a fistfight between coworkers would stir his emotions, initially attributing his excitement to the violence of the altercation.
However, he would inevitably find himself gravitating towards the winner, intrigued by their display of strength and skill, and feeling drawn to them in some inexplicable way. There was something about winners that captivated him and sparked his desire to get closer to them.
He like men who were daring, adventurous, and unafraid to push boundaries, they appealed to his sense of excitement and thrill-seeking.
He liked men who were ambitious, goal-oriented, and willing to pursue their dreams with determination might have resonated with Vox on a subconscious level.—
After his one-night stand, Vox was determined to clarify things once and for all. Following another grueling day of work, he ventured out again, this time to a gay bar, seeking the company of someone who embodied the traits he found most appealing in men, wanting to ensure it wasn't just the alcohol or the femininity of his previous partner. Without delving into detail, let's just say he had quite the night and afterward, there was no doubt in his mind: ‘he liked women, and he definitely also liked men.’
Following that experience, Vox began seeing more individuals of the same gender. However, he still held onto the notion that while he might be attracted to men, he didn't believe he would be interested in them as anything more than sexual partners. That was until he met Alastor...
Initially, Vox approached the radio demon seeking friendship or perhaps a partnership, given Vox's burgeoning company and rising status as an overlord. However, he soon found himself enamored with Alastor. Unfortunately for Vox, his feelings were not reciprocated. After that, Alastor distanced himself from Vox, leading our TV host to regard his old love as an enemy.
In response to the rejection, Vox decided to cease seeing men altogether, engaging in a series of short-term relationships with women. However, he soon realized he was simply idealizing Alastor and shifted his focus from woman to men for meaningless relationships, attempting to prove to himself that any other man was better than "that Bambi bitch."
But this approach only intensified the emptiness he felt. Recognizing the detrimental effects of his frantic behavior on himself and his company, Vox resolved to regulate and get back on a more business focused path.
The fact that rumours began circulating about his supposed "homoerotic relationships," was also a big push into getting back on track, as a word like that getting out was detrimental to business, since being gay was still stigmatized even in hell, during this time period.
It was around the late 1970s, with the rise of gay rights activism, that Vox began publicly dating men. Coincidentally, this was also when he met and began his business partnership (and more) with Valentino.
𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Names
Vox has a penchant for using endearing or patronizing nicknames, regardless of the gender of his employees. He will refer to them as "sweetheart," "doll face," or simply "doll."
In moments of frustration or when faced with resistance, he's not shy about using terms like "little girl" or "little boy," or even "kid," to belittle those who question him.
Additionally, he might employ terms like "Princess" or "your highness" as forms of condescension, no matter the gender of the person he is addressing.
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NSFW
𓊔 Party
Despite Vox's obsession with his and the Vees' image, when it comes to partying, he becomes a total animal — I’m talking ‘The Wolf of Wall Street’ type of wild.
Lavish gatherings marked by obscene spending and excessive drug intake, especially cocaine.
Vox typically indulged in doing lines off his desk or the luxurious crystal table in the lounge. However, what truly exited him was snorting lines off someone, getting his rocks off at their inability to refuse his advances and delighting in the control he exerted as he pinned them down to prevent any squirming.
The slight anxious tears and nervous mewls from whoever served as his snorting surface always stirred something within Vox. While he would grow irritated if they moved too much, the subtle signs of fear, such as the wetting of their eyes and trembling breath, would quickly reignite his unstable emotions. He found himself intensely aroused by their scared state, and more than once, he acted on these desires…
Drabble:
You were a VoxTek employee, more specifically; Vox’s secretary.
As Vox's secretary, navigating Alastor-related tantrums and enduring the grueling hours could be incredibly taxing, but the job itself had its perks.
Thanks to your position in the company, you enjoyed luxurious accommodations in the finest suites the V Tower had to offer.
Despite the challenges, Vox could be surprisingly pleasant, his charismatic charm reminiscent of his earlier days when his hypnosis wasn't as potent. And beneath the unconventional exterior of his TV head, there was no denying the appeal of his well-built physique.
Given the close proximity and constant interaction with Vox, it was inevitable to develop a small crush on your boss. His magnetic presence and the fact he was practically the only person you interacted with regularly since he requested you to work closer to him about three months ago only fueled this infatuation.
You liked your boss, but at this moment, you couldn't stand him;
It was 3 a.m. on a Sunday, the one day of the week you were supposed to have some semblance of off-time, with the luxury of sleeping in until noon.
But instead of enjoying your well-deserved rest in bed, you found yourself reluctantly entering the elevator, begrudgingly making your way to the usually closed-off top floor of the building.
Why? Because you had received a threatening and slightly slurry phone call from your boss, demanding your immediate presence or else face termination.
With your livelihood seemingly hanging in the balance, you complied without questioning, even though you loathed every second of it.
After punching in the code provided, you entered the lounge area of the top floor to find all three Vees lounging about. Valentino was enveloped in smoke, while music filled the air.
"Y/N! So glad you made it! Come 'ere," Vox exclaimed, his gestures frantic, urging you to approach quickly. He appeared laid-back, friendly, and strangely excited, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor of coldness and condescension.
Confusion clouded your expression as you approached the couch, unsure of what to make of Vox's sudden change in behavior. Velvette, noticing your bewilderment, chimed in with an explanation. "He took some MDMA before he called you — actually, he couldn't stop blabbing about your ass once that stuff kicked in," she divulged matter-of-factly, adding another layer of peculiarity to the already bizarre situation.
‘Ah, he’s high — that explains the weird friendliness.’ You thought to yourself.
But before you could dwell on it too long, Valentino's words snapped you out of your thoughts, "Yes, little Voxxy over there couldn't stop talking about how much he wanted his little secretary with him right here. He just had to call you, despite it being the middle of the night. I'm sorry you're losing your beauty sleep right now, cariño," he said, his tone tinged with insincerity from false remorse. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he finished speaking, adding to the surreal atmosphere of the moment.
“Val, Vel! You can’t tell them that! Or they’ll, they’ll… fuck!” Vox began to say, but something mid-sentence seemed to frustrate him.
Before you could question it for too long, Valentino answered that question for you. “They’ll figure out you have a little crush on them. Aww, don’t worry papi, it’s not like they can say no to you either way,” the moth darkly announced, frightening you, as it was technically true that you had to obey whatever order your boss gave you; it was in your contract after all.
To your somewhat relief, Vox scoffed at his part-time boyfriend's comment, as if to convey that he wouldn't behave in such a manner.
"Shut the fuck, Val!" Vox began, his frustration evident, before redirecting his attention back to you. "And you, lay down on the table." Confused by the request, you briefly wondered if he was joking, but the seriousness etched on his face made it clear that he wasn't. Resigned, you followed his instruction and laid down on the table as he commanded.
As soon as you complied, a smile spread across Vox's face. "Good, good. Now be a good little secretary and stay still as I do some lines off you, m'kay?" he instructed.
Before you could process anything or say something, he pushed your shirt all the way up, ending just under your chest, and tugged your bottoms down slightly — exposing your whole stomach.
Attempting to voice your discomfort, you were promptly shushed by Vox. "Shhh, you're being a table for me right now, and last time I checked, tables don't talk, now do they, sweetheart? So be a doll and shut up," he said, eliciting laughter from the two other Vees.
You complied with his instructions and remained silent as you felt him pour some powder onto your abdomen. Knowing the drugs he usually made you order on his behalf, it was probably coke.
With that, he quickly formed about three lines and began snorting them. The sensation felt odd and somewhat ticklish to you, but what you didn't expect was for him to lick the parts of your belly where the powder had just sat — long lines that started from top to bottom, causing you to squirm involuntarily.
Vox didn't appreciate your movement, because ‘how dare his table move?’. In response, he firmly gripped your waist on both sides and forcefully slammed your hips against the table as a warning to ‘stop moving’.
However, his claws dug into your skin, causing you to cry out slightly. Upon seeing the small tears in your eyes, his mood shifted once more, from aggravation to something more lustful.
He relished the sight of you with tears in your eyes, so he decided to inflict a bit more pain. With a predatory glint in his eyes, he bit at your sides, knowing that you couldn't retaliate due to the hierarchical difference between you.
His bites started from the top, gradually getting lower until they ended up just above your crotch. With a slight, heavy breathing, he remarked, "Now what do we have here? A snack for me? You shouldn't have." As he removed your bottoms, leaving you in your underwear, a slight moist patch formed due to the position you were in.
Sure, Vox was an entitled asshole, but god, did he look and sound incredible when he was being mean and bossy. How could you not get aroused, especially when his face and long tongue ass were so close to your intimate parts.
"You want me to play with you, darling?" Vox asked in a manner that almost made it feel like you had a choice. There was something about it that suggested he might respect your decision if you said no—sure, he wouldn't like it, but he definitely had this thing where he wanted you to want him, to beg for him, to need him. Forcing himself on you wouldn't align with that desire.
You nodded, but he tutted at you, wanting a verbal answer. "No, no, no, it's 'Could you please, sir?' or 'Would love to, Mr. Vox,' or 'Please, I need you, Vox.' You've got to speak up if you want me to do anything to you, got it, dollface?" he clarified, emphasizing the importance of explicit consent, whether it was due to genuine respect for your boundaries or just his enjoyment of your yearning for him, it was a bit unclear. However, knowing Vox, he probably just got off on your embarrassment.
"Yes, sir," you said, feeling embarrassed. "So? Do you want me to give some love to these," he asked, tracing the outline of your underwear, "lovely parts?" He perked up.
"I would love for you to, sir," you managed to speak out. With a 'perfect' from your boss, he was now eagerly devouring you with his tongue, sending small pleasurable shocks through you as he did. No part of you down there was left un-licked.
Just as you were about to reach that sweet, sweet release — Vox removed himself from you, causing you to whine at the loss of pleasure.
"Don't worry," he said, but before you could complain too much, Vox lifted you up and threw you onto the couch, your face soon hitting the satin pillows. As you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, you felt your hips being repositioned, leaving you face down and ass up.
Vox quickly pumped his cock a few times, not needing much as it was already hard from the sight of you writhing due to his tongue. Getting close to your ear, he whispered, "Cuz I'm not done with you, dollface."
Then he promptly shoved himself inside of you. Thankfully, whatever he was doing with his tongue a couple of instances ago had prepped you, because, woof, did the stretch sting.
After giving you a few moments to adjust, he began pounding you into tomorrow, playing with your front and sending small shocks here and there. With no regard for his colleagues sitting right beside him —or should I say colleague, as in singular—Velvette had left as soon as he began working you with his tongue. However, Valentino remained, watching the scene unfold with keen interest.
Your soon came undone due to his rough ministrations, but he was far from done with you...
⫘⫘⫘ Ownership, ⛌⛌⛌ Humiliation & Collar
If you haven't already figured it out yet, Vox is a sadist. He thoroughly enjoys power dynamics and the act of humiliating others.
Continuing from the previous headcanon, picture yourself as either hired as his secretary or as a low-ranking demon in his company who catches his eye. If you're the latter, he'll undoubtedly arrange for you to be transferred to work closer to him.
But anyway, my point is, as soon as you're in his close proximity, he'll literally makes you his bitch on call in the blink of an eye. And obviously, you can't refuse because, one, he's your boss; two, he's an overlord; and three, he's Vox.
Who would refuse that hunk? Even if you weren't initially attracted to him, you'd find yourself becoming so after a couple of weeks, even if it's just some weird mild attraction—you're still into him.
Once he's got you in his grasp and has fucked you at least once, this is when he begins to play with you. He'll make you start wearing a vibrator under your clothes at work, ordering you to remove your clothing every morning and show him, to ensure you did it. Then he'd send you on your merry way.
If he wasn't physically with you, he'd be watching you through his cameras.
And every time you would be talking to someone and he deemed it too long, you weren't paying attention to him, or you were zoning out/getting distracted, he would turn the vibrator on to 'get you back on track'.
Though he did like to sometimes turn the vibrator on just to tease you. For example, you're in the middle of telling him about a shift in his appointment in a room full of people, and he would suddenly turn it on to fuck with you.
He also has a huge thing for pulling you by your soul chain. He just loves, loves, loves summoning it out of nowhere and just tugging you along with it.
For instance, you could be telling him about some issue concerning a recent project, and he would tell you to come closer so he could hear better.
As you walk closer towards his desk, he deems your pace too slow. Without warning, he summons and tugs at the chain around your neck, causing you to fall to the ground.
In an attempt to brace the fall, you put your arms out, catching yourself and ending up on all fours.
But as you try to get up, he would tut at you, ordering you to “Crawl to me.” You’re humiliated, but you still do it as he watches you like a hawk, a satisfied grin on his face.
If you also happen to scrape or bruise yourself when you fell and some small tears form in your eyes, let me tell you, he would get so bricked up as soon as he noticed them.
And of course, he would make you blow him, though it would end up with him face-fucking you, as it usually did.
He would also hold your head down as he dumped his cum down your throat, then he would pull your nose with his free hand, saying that “you don’t get to breathe until you’ve swallowed it all.” And of course, you would do it because you don’t want to literally choke to death on your boss’s dick.
Once he was sure you had swallowed it all, he would finally release you, allowing you to take some air in. Then he would make you stick out your tongue, and he would spit in your mouth, making you swallow that too.
𐂯 Training
He liked using small electrical charges as a ‘training method’, and this method has two stages. This would happen after he already had you as his personal toy— I mean, ‘secretary’.
At first, he uses electricity to reprimand you whenever you weren’t paying attention to him, questioned him, said no to things, or did anything that he considered as bad behaviour.
He would shock you, making you associate ‘bad behavior’ with pain, so you would end up automatically correct yourself before you even do or say something.
If you take a bit too long to ‘adjust’ to this new way of acting, he might resort to a little bit of hypnosis, but he would prefer not to.
He gets off on the fact that he can train you to behave just with his words and actions, without the help of any special ability.
Anyways, when he is sure that he has drilled into you what proper behavior is, he’ll employ phase two. He’ll start training you to enjoy the sting of his electricity.
So, whether he's fucking you, giving you head, touching you, or basically providing any sort of pleasure, every time you would be close to reaching your peak, he would send jolts of electricity through you, gradually increasing the dosage over time.
Things would get to the point that a small shock from him would be enough to get you turned on, and bigger shocks would be able to literally make you cum.
ฅ Pet
For the most part, he wouldn’t see secretary!reader as a partner. It’s only after a while, like a year or more, that he would start considering it.
He views them as his romantic interests, but not on his level. To keep face with the other Vees, even though they both knew about his crush from the beginning because he was so obvious with it, he would call you his pet.
Sometimes literal ‘pet names’ like puppy, kitty, bunny, etc. (Personally, I would love for him to call him his bunny <3.)
What he calls you all depends on your appearance and behaviors. For example, if you manifested with a more feline appearance, he would call you his kitten or kitty. If you didn’t have animal-like features but for example, were very needy, had a tendency to follow around, and were a sucker for praise, he would likely call you his puppy.
𓌏 Punishments
Besides using electric shocks, he is definitely into spanking as a form of punishment—whether it involves pulling down your pants or lifting your skirt, spanking you for every ‘transgression’ you’ve committed is something he’s totally down for.
It can be a really strange experience if you weren't a masochist to begin with because he'll end up having you conditioned to enjoy physical punishments;
For example, he would be spanking you, and you find yourself getting turned on, arousal literally leaking due to his rough treatment of your behind.
Edging and overstimulation are also big in his book, though each has its own set of circumstances where they would be implemented.
For instance, if you weren't paying attention to him because of someone else, he would overstimulate you to the point where you couldn't think about anyone but him, asserting his superiority over whoever had your attention.
If you weren't paying attention for any other reason, he would edge you, because ‘how dare you ignore him when he should be the most important to you!’.
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six-eyed-samurai · 7 months ago
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AGAIN AND AGAIN - A REINCARNATION AU
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A/N: Help, what have I done? Sorry if this doesn't fit the characters, I was writing it sleep deprived and as neutral as possible. Support me and my poetry (that I came up with in the shower)
Heavens blessed me with you
The Knight, who when your parents announced you would marry you off to some elderly Lord, kept true to his word and took you away, escaping into the clashing colors of freedom and love in another kingdom far, far away, only for your world to darken into black and white once more when your enraged parents caught up and had him executed; it was now your turn to keep your side of the oath and join him in the afterlife when you drank the poisoned chalice.
In every rebirth
The Roman General who passed by you, lashing out any "potential buyer" when he walked disgusted through the slave market - he bought you freedom and yet somehow you stayed with him forever willingly cuffed by shackles of affection...until he died of an assassination and you were hung for having an "affair" with someone of higher class, but not before you both screamed to whatever god that would listen to come back to each other once more.
I promise I'll find you
The Baker who's never cared a penny about the other air headed girls from his small British village until you, a young noble lady recently moved into the old Baskerville Manor, turned up requesting his help in setting a banquet. Excuses after excuses pile up from both sides in an attempt to extend your brief time together but soon, oh, too soon, you leave as per your family's orders and he's left to wonder how you're doing now, because after years and years of searching they refused to let him in.
Through tears, death, dreams and mirth
The White American who finds you working day in day out at the laundry lady's for little to no pay, so from his not so small tips grew to slipping love letters through the pockets of his clothes, but soon you're fired and bade to leave for your skin colour and he's still bitterly cursing the townspeople for their blind racism.
And I know it's just a gamble
The Hockey player who grins at you who always shows up to his games in every match until he asks you out on an ice skating date, but alas, how could he have known that the day you finally showed up in his jersey, much to his delight, would be the day a crazed fan clubbed you on the head with his own hockey stick, much to your doom? He left the industry as cold as the rink.
Unfair, repeated roll of dice
The F1 Racer who whines about the most ridiculous problems happening to his car and making bad impressions of the other drivers just to see his beloved mechanic even crack a smile - no oil or dirt stained on you could ever dim that brilliant smile when you both went on a joyride together into the sunset...oh, wait, his death on the track did.
But in this temporary, fleeting
The Roommate who knows exactly what you want for breakfast every morning, and soon it spiraled into having a meal together for lunch and dinner too, especially when he added candles and rose petals! You still make your coffee the same way he did even after your studies took you abroad and both of you decided it was for the best to break up.
Moment in fast ending time
The Landlord who did NOT expect such a cute little you to move on when he decided to make a little cash on the side renting out his spare room...never mind, it's still on rent because now you've moved into his room. He managed to save your photo album from the charred remains of your house though...although he couldn't save you.
Tell me, oh tell me
The Drug dealer who just recently entered your big brother's gang, who protected you with his scrawny body every time any sexually frustrated asshole came to harass you. Your declarations of love didn't come in heartfelt words or gifts but a smoked joint with each other. You both didn't get delusional, because why should you when your fantasies were right in front? It was the same when you overdosed after someone ratted him out and sent him to a life sentence in prison.
Darling love of mine
The Mafioso who charms you with his suave words and cool under fire attitude, causing you to giggle and kick your feet whenever he came back to your door with flirtations and blood on his face from those who disrespected the mob boss's goddaughter. It was the classic romantic Italian dinner when he got down one one knee...except for the part when his rivals arrived to gun him down and you're left staring at his broken body and shattered ring.
You're just as lost
The Neighbour who had no idea the babysitter for the kids next door would be so goddamned FINE - if only he hadn't fumbled and stumbled over his words in the elevator! But that's alright, even little Ray and Katie are rooting for him and you! Your first date might not be fancy, but he was more starstruck in awe of you than he was of the night sky as you sat on top of the roof.
In paradise
"I feel like I've know you all my life."
"In every lifetime?"
"Maybe!"
And somewhere deep inside, you both knew it for certain: the endless cycles of pain were finally broken.
"I'm so glad of whatever karma that I did in my previous life got me to meet you!"
"You better continue it in this life so I can see you in the next one!"
Not karma, actually, but a series of broken promises finally repaired.
***
Sukuna, Giyuu, Kokushibo, Gojo, Takemitchy, Mikey, Ranpo, Nikolai, Kirishima, Hawks, Kakashi, Nishinoya, Kuroo, Toji, Kazutora, Nanami, Eren Yeager, Gyutaro, Kunikida, Zuko, Yuta, Inumaki, Levi, your favourites!
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reythenerdypisces · 8 months ago
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things that I overlooked in PJO the first time / small, funny things I noticed during my reread
Part 3: The Titan's Curse
The truth was I was kind of disappointed to hear that she liked her new school so much. It was the first time she'd gone to school in New York. I'd been hoping to see her more often.
I tried to concentrate on little things, like the crepe-paper streamers and the punch bowl - anything but that fact that Annabeth was taller than me, and my hands were sweaty and probably gross, and I kept stepping on her toes.
"The General?" I asked. Then I realised I'd said it in a French accent. "I mean... who's the General?" I want this part to be in the show
"Sweet! Let's go! [to CHB]" said Nico. this breaks my heart. he was so excited in this book
Tyson thought Annabeth was just about the coolest thing since peanut butter (and he seriously loved peanut butter).
"How would you kidnap an immortal goddess? Is that even possible?" "Well, yeah. I mean, it happened to Persephone." "But she was like, the goddess of flowers." Grover looked offended. "Springtime." you tell him grover
"That's some serious danger you're facing." Connor Stoll said. (I liked how he said you and not we.) I'm just imagining the rest of the campers not bothering to go on quests cause it's always the same few demigods and they don't care, they're just chilling safe at CHB while Percy and Annabeth do their things
The creature looked at me sadly. "Moooo!" But I couldn't understand his thoughts. I only speak horse. Percy Jackson speaks two languages: English and Horse
With a shiver, I realised that five hundred or a thousand years from now, Bianca di Angelo would look exactly the same as she did today. She might be having a conversation like this with some other half blood long after I was dead but Bianca would still look twelve years old. ouch
"It wants to kill us!" Thalia said. "Of course." Grover said. "It's wild!" "So how is that a blessing?" Bianca asked.
"That's us," he said. "Those five nuts right there." "Which one is me?" I asked. "The little deformed one," Zoe suggested.
When she smiled at me, just for a moment she looked a little like Annabeth. I know everyone talks about this part but I can't help but bring it up again, they are so cute
"Woah, first of all, I never said anything about love. And second, what's up with tragic!" little does he know. also, Percy is so incredibly insightful in this book but he's also so jealous of Annabeth and Luke and so upset about the idea of her joining the hunters yet still can't figure out that he likes her
"Seven hundred feet tall," I said. "Built in the 1930s." "Five million cubic acres of water," Thalia said. Grover sighed. "Largest construction project in the United States." Zoe stared at us. "How do you know all that?" "Annabeth," I said. "She liked architecture." I cannot explain how much this little bit means to me.
The girl I'd just tried to slice in half yelped and dropped her Kleenex. "Oh my god." she shouted. "Do you always kill people when they blow their nose?" Rachel's here!!! I love her
Five minutes later, Zoe had me outfitted in a ragged flannel shirt and jeans three sizes too big, bright red sneakers, and a floppy rainbow hat. someone draw this and tag me. what an outfit
Suddenly it occurred to me: this had happened to her before. She had been cornered on Half-Blood Hill. She'd willingly given her life for her friends. But this time, she couldn't save us. How could I let that happen to her? he is the most empathetic, wholesome guy, I love Percy
"Can't this go any faster?" Thalia demanded. Zoe glared at her. "I cannot control traffic." You both sound like my mother." I said. "Shut up!" they said in unison. I kind of wish we got more Thalia and Zoe interactions... they would've made such a great enemies to lovers dynamic, if Zoe didn't die
"Get away from my daughter!" Dr Chase called down, and his machine gun burst to life, peppering the ground with bullet holes and startling the whole group of monsters into scattering. "Dad?" yelled Annabeth in disbelief.
Grover went off with his satyr friends to spread the word about our strange encounter with the magic of Pan. Within an hour, the satyrs were all running around agitated, asking where the nearest espresso bar was.
"No," I said. "I choose the prophecy. It will be about me." "Why are you saying that?" she cried. "You want to be responsible for the whole world?" It was the last thing I wanted, but I didn't say that. I knew I had to step up and claim it. "I can't let Nico be in any more danger." I said. might I remind you this boy is 13/14 and has the whole world on his shoulders (both literally at some point and figuratively)
I feel like these are just getting longer and longer but again, I will be back for part 4!
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obsidianstrawberrymilk · 1 year ago
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A short list of things I would have changed in HoO
It takes place ten ish years after the end of PJO. Percy and Annabeth aren’t a part of the seven but instead appear as cool older mentors to help out the Lost Hero trio. They both have careers and live in New York and go to Sally’s house for dinner every weekend.
Caleo isn’t a thing. In fact, let’s not even mention Calypso. At most we mention she was freed after the last war as idk proof demigods have some power or something.
More than 1 Asian character. Give this one ADHD and dyslexia bc shocker Asian kids can be disabled as well.
For that matter a properly disabled character. I have a deaf OC I would use if I rewrote the series.
Leo is aroace. His arc is about learning that his self worth doesn’t have to be tied to the people around him and his friends love and care about him and he doesn’t need romance to be complete. His flirting is overcompensation bc he doesn’t feel romantic or sexual attraction and is afraid he’ll be alone forever.
Drew and Piper become friends. Drew’s mean girl bullshit is outdated and boring and it would have been a lot cooler to see her icy exterior thaw and her help Piper with her charmspeck (explaining how Piper learned how to use it to begin with) and take on an older sister role
Neither Leo nor Piper become head councilors to their cabins because that’s dumb
Keep the chapter title style from PJO. It was so fun and one of the highlights of the series for me. The relatable nature of PJO in general was kinda lost in HoO and it’s a shame bc there was such a variety of characters for people to identify with there.
Give Reyna a girlfriend or at least a homoerotic friendship that can become an actual relationship in the next series or something
Frank is 14 and he and Hazel aren’t dating, they just have mutual baby crushes on one another.
For that matter what the fuck was ‘Frank is magically not fat due to Mars’s blessing’ bullshit? Frank is a fat character who stays fat but learns to be confident in himself and his body type.
Stop The Adultification of Hazel 2k23. Hazel is 13, she’s the youngest member of the seven and despite her trauma I think that should be obvious. I think emphasizing her relationship with Nico could be fun here - he’s in his 20s so him taking a more ‘that older sibling who toes the line between parent and sibling’ role here could be fun.
Also, I don’t want Hazel to have Hecate’s blessing or whatever. Between her being a magical horsegirl and the daughter of Pluto there’s already a lot of room to expand on her powers that was never used - I think doing more with her cursed jewels and metals powers and her learning the other aspects of her powers, like Shadow Travel, would be fun.
Instead I think having a daughter of Hecate as a part of the Seven would be cool, because we could still have a witchy character with mist manipulation and magic powers.
Give Jason an actual personality, please. Bro’s been a child solider practically since age 2 and has spent his whole life with the weight of other teenagers’ lives on his shoulders as praetor - give him perfectionism issues and anxiety. We’re told that he’s spent his whole life helping others compromise instead of being his own person - show that. Let his arc end with him deciding to try and live a mortal life and find out who he is beyond being a war general.
Show us that Octavian’s a piece of shit, don’t just tell us.
Leo and Piper are the ones who fall into Tartarus. Nothing romantic ever happens but we get heavy emphasis on their friendship and we get to see their grief over Leo’s mom and Piper’s grandfather respectively
Piper’s grandfather has died a few months ago and she cut her hair herself when her dad didn’t want to let her due to that (correct me if I’m wrong but it’s a tradition in Cherokee culture to cut your hair when a loved one dies, correct?), which is why it’s all uneven. A lot of her insecurities stem from going from growing up in rural Oklaholma (not in a reservation bc there aren’t any there) without much money to suddenly being catapulted into a millionaire Hollywood lifestyle and having everyone criticize everything about her and be really racist, all while her Dad drew farther away from both her and her grandfather. Her arc would be reconnecting with both her culture and Dad and learning to find who she is and her self worth again.
They defeat Gaea in a way that isn’t so anticlimactic and fucking stupid
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strawhatkia · 1 year ago
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luvr boy.
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INCLUDES ! izuku midoriya x black!fem!reader
GENRE ! fluff
SYNOPSIS ! general relationship headcanons with izuku !
WARNINGS ! cursing, fem!black! reader, we still in high school y’all, a little uraraka slander (read to understand), edited
WORD COUNT ! 1.6k
A/N ! another repost, i had to break it up bc it was a lot of text - izuku motherfucking midoriya. the blasian himself. isaiah niggadoriya. him with a black female? him with a melanated goddess? i think it god’s greatest gift to give izuku ‘deku’ midoriya a beautiful, melanated, healing black woman and for me to write about it.❤️🥰 also, i hate the way uraraka is written and i will not hold back
reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍
MAIN MASTERLIST | BNHA MASTERLIST | TAGLIST
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— ☾⋆⁺₊ 👊🏻 📗✧
pretty boy- the prettiest 
alright!! let’s start with wash day!!
…nigga did not know shit-
 poor baby grew up with inko, bless her straight headed soul, so he had no clue how to probably take care of his hair
all he had was h e a t  d a m a g e
“zuku, how do you do your hair?” “huh?” “like what do you do?” “uh well, nothing really, i just wash it, that’s it.” “…” “what? why are you making that face- IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY HAIR?!?”
everything…everything is wrong…
aight sis, grab yo detangler, rat-tail comb, hard brush, sulfate-free shampoo, co-wash, conditioner, deep conditioner, protein treatment, all your oils, patience, and strength
and for the love of everything that is great- throw away his 3-in-1 before he give me a fucking heart attack
chile- you couldn’t even see his fucking scalp. his hair was so matted and curled up tightly together that it hurt to look at it 
don’t let him go out this house like this no mo, hear me?
but it’s nothing you can’t fix, give the lil boy head some TLC and watch them curls pop!
first wrap that towel around his shoulders, put a pillow on the floor and sit him down in between ya legs and start the marathon of old all might and black people movies you gon’ be there for a while
lil boy would not sit still and he was tender-headed pick a struggle; at this point it was either get popped by you or suffer the pain from his scalp…he chose the latter
mans almost fell asleep while you was shampooing his hair and when you put the hot oil treatment on his scalp- slumber  
after everything, you twisted his hair and gave him a bonnet
“uhm...why are you giving me a hat?” you almost slapped the taste outta his damn mouth
after explaining, he put it on; little did he know it was an expect copy to yours, just a different size
“baby, we’re matching!” ”yes, izu, we are. do you wanna take pictures?” you have just made his night. 
the pictures were posted all over insta and has them pinned on his account you betta bet mina was all in the damn comment section ; later, he would print them out and put them on his desk so he can look at when he sat down or went to bed
when you took his hair down the next day, he went to the mirror and baby had stars in his eyes
“it looks so cool!” “i’m glad you like it, izu”
he talks about you to all might all the fucking time to the point they both know you better than ya damn self
which is really annoying because all might be wanting them "one on one" talks and it will irk you to talk to him because everything will be "but young midoriya said..."
to be honest, he went to all might for love advice....don’t ever let him do that again. mans was using the most corniest lines but since it was izuku, he got away with- tell me you not cheesing thinking about him saying the "roses are red, violets are blue line" with the cutest blush...im waiting
golden hour, his favorite time of the day
this man will drop everything just to see you at golden hour like when the sun is just starting to set, he will rush into ya dorm room just to watch you
it's like therapy for him to see you relaxing under the setting sun and see your brown skin shining, i just feel like this time would be the time he reminds himself that he is incredibly lucky to have you and will literally do anything to keep you relaxed like this
"zuku babes, what are you looking at?" "nothing~" "whew boy you are so far gone" "hm?" "oh! uh...love you !" "hm, love you too~"
side note: ...if you hear a camera click, don't be surprised
izuku loves affection, giving and receiving
his giving love languages is acts of service and a lil bit of quality time; his receiving love language is physical touch and words of affirmation
so it’s important that you meet in the middle and give him praise, shit works like a charm
go up to him, pat and rub his curls and tell him that he did a good job and one of two things will happen
one: he'll tear up a lot and ask if you're sure or two: he'll blush really fucking hard
as for his giving love, he'll just kinda follow you now until he is told to leave. don’t do that. just don’t.
let him leave on his own, you'll make him feel like he's bothering you otherwise 
ask him for cuddles, he’ll drop almost anything he is doing to do so
even if you just drop hints about it, he’ll just smile and just take you somewhere quiet before sitting down or laying down to take a nap with you (nap dates with zuku !)
i think my heart just busted outta my chest i love him so fucking much
if you wanna match his acts of service, when he’s sick or just really busy at hero work studies, take notes for him in class. he will love you forever i promise. 
and best believe, that he wants your attention on him at all times
remember them head pats? let’s say you give them to todoroki or tsu for doing some reason
poor thing is definitely sitting in a corner somewhere sulking
he doesn’t want to get upset because that’s his friends and he's glad that you are getting along but he would be lying if he didn't feel a little salty about it
later on, he will ask for some and if you refuse for any reason, he’ll look at you like you just tore out his heart…cause ya did
and GOD FORBID if you give more attention to bakugo instead of him…it is now in God’s hands
he’s throwing you over his shoulder and walking away from bakugo, not before throwing him a glare which later on ensues another fight between them
he only did it because he doesn’t like you getting too close to bakugo, no matter how much he cares about him being his childhood friend
i would like to think there's always that underlying fact that yes, you can handle yourself, but he also knows just how capable bakugou is and lowkey does not want to risk it
please remind him that you do love him and that he is a good boyfriend with all the hugs, cuddles, and all that other good shit
he loves to write about you in his notes, he has AT LEAST 4 notebooks about everything about you as well as somethings he wish to say to you and a little souvenirs from moments between you two that he found special
he has a special item from the time he figured out that he loved you and wrote down in detail what happened and how he felt about it 
when you find these notebooks, do not, i repeat, DO NOT tell him that you found. just take the damn notebook while you can and run
give it back and you'll never see it again.
but most definitely tell him about all the things you read and watch him turn bright red
“so, you did get jealous when I gave Sero that hug the other day?” “HUH?!?!? H- H- HOW DID YOU FIND OUT!!?” “*holds up notebook marked ‘Y/n L/n’* Maybe because wrote about it…in detail” *cue the screams of embarrassment and horror*
nah but the amount of times the boy has gone off on a tangent about the little things he loves about you in there will get you flustered-
for drama sake, let’s talk about uraraka
short story: you almost knocked that bitch teeth in
long story: yes, deku used to like her and yes, she almost got him but that did not work out and guess who got him first ! tbh, you started out good friends with uraraka apart from the dekusquad but she never told you about her lil crush until it was too damn late !  
and little miss thing was not happy about it; “after all this time…he gets with her!!”
i think you noticed at first her lil sly ass actions and remarks but don’t give in, let her make a fool of herself and watch her run around in circles
be calm and stay two steps ahead, it will work out in your favor ! and it did !
the next person that noticed was tsu, however, she was on your side about this because she hates petty shit and people so what uraraka was doing was not to her liking at all ! 
the other two, iida and shoto, caught on to it (iida wanting uraraka to at least remain civil and shoto just watching from afar) but deku remained oblivious for a while
he just wanted to be friends with everyone so he kinda just...didn't notice or thought she was mad about something else
i feel like uraraka would get beside herself and start saying reckless ass shit to express her frustration but it would only end up with her getting her ass beat and shunned from the group until she got her act together
you can guess what she said but all imma say is….she really lost her god damn mind and paid the price
what's worse is she really did try to make it seem like you stole from her...but dum dum was the one who didn't speak up? until the very last minute? which...sounds like a personal problem? sssoooooo, stay mad?
everyone in class did figure it out and it was just lowkey sad to see her get so messy but in the end !
izuku loves you very much and would do anything for you 
you are his happiness and he’s thinking about spending forever with you
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©STRAWHATKIA ━ all rights reserved. all content published on this blog belongs to starsoir. please refrain from copying, stealing, profiting off my works, or using my works for asmr related work. i don’t allow my works to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.
reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍
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wanna read more ??
lip gloss, lil mama. | f. | multiple characters
boyfriend. | f. | katsuki bakugo
love you more when the day is new. | f. | multiple characters
taglist : @mypimpademia @sevvnt @cosmiles @megurulvr @miirene
izuku taglist: @cosmiles
519 notes · View notes
necropaint · 9 months ago
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My Personal Alastor Headcanons
Not because I'm a simp or anything ahahahah.... All SFW aside from some cursing of course. :)
I am sleep deprived and stupid so some of these maybe shit and have terrible spelling errors. My mind is running at 3% and some of these were spontaneously made up because that's how my mind works. Enjoy.
📻 Viv let us play with Alastor's sexuality and so I hc he is demisexual (totally not me projecting and basing it off my own experiences, nahhhh...) and he rarely falls for anyone, but when he does he falls HARD.
• That being said, the flirtation begins. He is terrible at it... He respects boundaries and is incredibly respectful but he 100% butchers pickup lines because he genuinely thinks our generation likes those.
- "If you were a vegetable you would be a cucumber."
- "Do you have an extra heart? Mine was stolen."
- Can demons have strokes? That's probably what you are saying
- Angel Dust hears and DIES. Surprisingly gives some solid advice.
- "Stop with the pick-up lines. Just be yourself and it'll work, trust me, ya weirdo..."
- So he does. AKA secretly follows you, will randomly spawn to open doors for you or pull out chairs, chivalry isn't dead, dear! Also tells you about his grizzly murders in his lifetime, if anyone disrespects you prepare for your knight in shoulder pads, will be slick and dedicates one of his radio shows to you and plays an old song from his day. Makes you SWOON. Angel is proud.
- Also likes dates to Cannibal Town and introduces you to Rosie. She thinks you are the cutest thing in the world, prepared to be coddled by both.
📻 He likes to play dress up with you if you let him. Picking out your wardrobe is SO fun for him.
📻 Is a top tier cook. Usually prefers meat and will cook that for you, but if he finds out you are a vegan/pescitarian/etc he will do that. Gets excited when you compliment his cooking.
📻 HE HAS A SECRET TAIL HE IS ASHAMED OF AND I WILL NOT HIDE IT. I LOVE WHEN POWERFUL CHARACTERS HAVE A MILD INCONVENIENCE THAT MAKES THEM LESS SCARY.
📻 He learns words and if it's not from Rosie... Be prepared because it gets bad and gets cringe.
- "Ah! Darling, I heard some demons today as I was on a stroll, they were from your era. What is a mee-mee?"
- "I see... I see. They also said the word "gyatt" to a woman, I assume that is a compliment, so my dear, you have a-"
- You stop him right there, explains what that means and he short circuits. He walks over to the corner and just places his head against it. "I would like to be alone for a while..."
- "If mama knew I said this she would beat my ass to next Tuesday..."
📻 I know it says he's not big on touch but I HC he really doesn't care. He never seems to show any recoil from it, but maybe its just if its strangers?
📻 Will educate you on everything he knows on the macabre and morbid.
📻 Will FORCE you to sit down and check out vintage stuff. Watching TV? Not anymore, there is a microphone cane through it. Charlie has bought you like six phones now...
📻 He is overall an attention seeking puppy.
📻 Does things that get him praise. He WANTS his ego boost and knows you'll give it to him.
📻 Gossips with you about everyone and anything, listens to you rant and will give some genuinely good advice unless its like about an ex or something.
- "Simple, dear! Just kill them."
📻 Jokingly (?) tries to get you to sell your soul to him.
- "All in jest, don't worry! I think the look on your face is HILARIOUS!"
📻 If he sees you upset he tries to make you smile.
📻 If you are short he will put things on the top shelf and stifle a laugh as he watches you try to get it. Bless Husk and Angel for getting it for you.
📻 Angel is the only male he doesn't really have a problem with, hence when he hears about Valentino he has a bit of anger, also just because he thinks hes gross and perverse. Someone like that doesn't deserve to be breathing.
📻 Whiskey is his forte. VERY picky with his drinks, he doesn't like the cheap stuff like Husk does. A lot of people say he drinks wine but I imagine he only likes the hard stuff.
📻 He is the type of man to leave the toilet seat up. Vaggie has voiced her opinions on it.
📻 When he got Niffty out of that toilet he probably waited until the bubbles almost stopped. He's a little bit of an asshole.
📻 Actively pranks Husk. Someone save the cat-man...
- Switches his alcohol with non-alcoholic and sees how long it takes him to realize or get drunk even though he's not.
- Plays poker against him but will actively cheat to make sure he wins 100% of the time.
- Puts cucumbers down to scare the shit out of him.
📻 Since he is a deer demon (a Stag at that) he is VERY territorial, especially of the Hotel. This is HIS home. Will never admit it though.
📻 ✨Sweet Southern Boy✨ (Not really a HC I just wanted to say that, nor is he really sweet)
📻 He hides his accent. It will come out though when he is extremely extremely angry or when he is extremely relaxed.
📻 Will wake you up by staring in your face, you may or not have screamed once.
📻 Bullies Sir Pentious. He's still pissed about him ripping his tailcoat and he holds a grudge.
📻 Also not a headcanon but doesn't mind personal space, will come into the bathroom as you shower for conversation and draw on the steamed mirror. If you ask him to stop he will and completely understands.
📻 Sits and stares at a wall sometime.
📻 Gets everyone to taste his coffee, it is mostly coffee grounds.
📻 Has ate a dog demon on more than one occasion. Unapologetically.
📻 You know those compilations of like people getting hurt on youtube? If he used the internet that shit would be the funniest thing in the world to him.
📻 Uses 1920s slang to confuse everyone.
📻 Jealous.
- Plationic: Um... He's your best friend, right? Why are you giving attention to others when he is RIGHT THERE. Oh? They can do that, well he can do it ten times better. Watch what else he can do! Yeah, he's the coolest, right?
- Romantically: Time to butt heads and flex every possible way. Will RUIN the person's confidence, the psychological warfare begins. He is the better one and he must make it known. If they start flirting with you, blood will be spilled.
📻 When people try and lecture him it goes in one ear and out the other.
📻 His hair tufts are his ears, that may actually be canon, not sure.
- If he gets comfortable enough and you scratch behind they he MELTS. It scared him at first but once he first fell asleep it was nice.
📻 Will tell you about his mother constantly. Bases a lot of his morals and being a gentleman off how his mother taught him and treats women like ✨queens✨
📻 I HC one of his biggest problems with Lucifer and why they had tha number was because he was absent in Charlie's life so much and since his dad left him and his mother he believes absent fathers are the worst. He believes you have an obligation AS A FATHER to be the best you can be and raise your child.
- Absent father? Will bully so hard. He hates them to a fault, even if it wasn't their fault. He refuses to take criticism on it and its one of the things he is most stubborn about. Man got some daddy issues he doesn't want to talk about.
📻 His daddy issues lead to abandonment issues.
📻 His mom passing away will make him be extra attentive if someone he cares about is sick.
- Will check in and only really care if it's the girls.
- Will probably tell the guys to suck it up. Rip.
📻 Touch and affection starved and just doesn't show it. I don't care if it's not in character, let me project my issues in peace.
📻 Says the most out of pocket shit just for shock value.
📻 Rosie teaches him things he isn't allowed to say.
📻 His favorite body part to eat is the heart. He thinks it's poetic.
📻 Owns a record player because of course he does.
- If you want him to try modern day music, you best be getting vinyls.
- If you pull up Spotify he will feel betrayed.
- "So... My radio show isn't good enough? You need some... Application to play music for you?"
- Will guilt trip you and not feel bad. You already use phones and social media, like... Will only indulge if you play HIS type of music, and even then he will bitch about how it sounds better on the record player and how he play it on his show instead.
- I clearly know nothing about how radio shows work and I don't care.
⚠️Mildly suggestive depending on who you are:
📻 Likes boobs, he just likes sleeping on them. He was a mama's boy and he probably rested his head on his mother's chest all the time growing up.
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hotdaemondtargaryen · 4 months ago
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GAYLE RANKIN INTERVIEWED BY VULTURE MAGAZINE.
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Alys’s motives are unclear, and her expanded interactions with Daemon are a change from Fire & Blood, in which all that’s written of their relationship is “Whatever her powers, it would seem Daemon Targaryen was immune to them, for little is heard of this supposed sorceress whilst the prince held Harrenhal.”
(She’s also seemingly no longer a wet nurse with breast milk “that flowed so abundantly” it “nourished countless babes born of other women at Harrenhal.”)
Yet her willingness to call Daemon on his shit — Rankin says “no” ten times when I ask whether Alys cares about his obsession with being called “Your Grace” instead of “my prince” — and her unapologetically spooky aura give the character a decidedly different feel from the original in George R.R. Martin’s source material.
WHETHER ALYS IS CAUSING DAEMON'S VISIONS OR JUST INTUITING THAT HE'S HAVING THEM, SHE QUICKLY IDENTIFIES THAT HE'S MADE A LOT OF MISTAKES WITH THE WOMEN IN HIS LIFE. SHE CALLS HIM OUT ON HOW HIS STRATEGY FOR THE RIVERLANDS IS HURTING WOMEN IN PARTICULAR. DOES ALYS HAVE A GUIDING PHILOSOPHY CONNECTED TO A KIND OF FEMINISM?
"Yes, absolutely."
"It’s hard not to."
"It’s the perspective I come from as a person on the planet."
"As an artist, I’m really curious about uplifting women and disenfranchised peoples of all kinds."
"That’s part of what this show is about, if this is like the female Game of Thrones."
"Olivia and Emma do an incredible job of paving the way for nuanced stories about women in power, and Alys comes in as an extra foil to that narrative."
THERE'S SO MUCH AMBIGUITY, RIGHT? WHETHER SHE IS INSPIRING DAEMON'S DREAMS, WHETHER THE MEMBERS OF HOUSE STRONG ACKNOWLEDGE HER AS A BASTARD RELATED TO THEM. WHEN YOU'RE PLAYING WITH THAT MUCH MYSTERY, HOW DO YOU DEFINE THE BOUNDARIES OF THE CHARACTER FOR YOURSELF?
"It’s a thing I was struggling with every day."
"How do you play someone who is mysterious? How do you ground them, and make her a person with wants and needs and desires? As this season unfolds, you start to feel like there’s a story there, a person and a history."
"I know it."
"It was really personal."
"That was a lot of work I had to do privately, and hopefully we’ll feel and see more specific details at some point."
WHAT KIND OF STUFF DO YOU THINK ALYS GOT UP TO IN HARRENHAL BEFORE DAEMON SHOWED UP?
"I do believe she’s a maester of sorts, and a healer in many senses of the word."
"Whether or not Alys’s potions are actually potions, she’s kept Harrenhal on its feet for generations, in terms of just like, keeping people alive — or not."
I DO LOVE THE LINE SHE SAYS THE PREVIOUS MAESTER "JUST NEVER SETTLED IN."
"Well, there wasn’t enough room, you know." [Laughs]
"It’s a pretty hard job keeping Harrenhal afloat, keeping everybody safe and well, and keeping control."
"It’s a powerful space in and of itself, maybe one of the most powerful, and to have this woman running it, essentially, is really fascinating to me."
"She’s kind of like the First Lady of Harrenhal, if there was a government."
"She knows all the really wonderful spots to go swimming and do fun, pleasurable things."
"She’s spent a lot of time figuring out how to be by herself, but that’s like a blessing and a curse after 400 years."
YOU'VE SAID ALYS "DESIRES TO BE KNOW," AND THAT'S PARTIALLY WHY SHE MAKES THIS OVERTURE TO DAEMON. DID YOU SEE THAT AS A DESIRE TO BE KNOWN PERSONALLY, OR SHE WANTS TO BE RECOGNIZED FOR WHAT SHE'S DONE TO KEEP HARRENHAL GOING?
"It’s both, but they’re in competition with one another, which I think is inherently female."
"How are we to be as women in this world? Are we allowed to be vulnerable and also ambitious? Is there room for them in our society?"
"There’s something about her that’s trying to prove maybe there is, but it’s a fight."
THE HARRENHAL SET IS SO DETAILED. WAS THERE A SPECIFIC ASPECT OF THE SET DESIGN YOU CONNECTED WITH?
"My workshop was so specific."
"I hope we get to go back there."
"I loved how tactile it was — I had a bunch of ingredients that I could build the potion with."
"It was very comforting and it made me feel like I had been there for centuries."
"It felt very lived in and feminine, like a sanctuary, you know?"
"This tells me something about this person, that they have fought hard to build something for themselves, an identity."
WHAT WAS THE SUBSTANCE YOU WERE WORKING WITH YOUR MORTAR AND PESTLE?
"It was blackberries and crushed-up rose petals and some other dried fruit, I think dried oranges."
"It got to a point after so many takes where I was like, I have to stop adding things into this, I really don’t know what’s in this now, which is amazing for the scene."
"I’ll let the audience decide whether or not it’s on purpose that she lets Daemon see that she’s tasting it first. But who knows what Alys can withstand?"
"It’s an interesting question about daring him on and seducing him in some way, too."
THERE IS FAN THEORY THAT ALYS AND THE RED PRIESTESS MELISANDRE FROM GAME OF THRONES ARE THE SAME CHARACTERS. DO YOU HAVE A REACTION TO THAT?
"I would say that there are no other characters that have been repeated in the House of the Dragon world, so I’m not sure why we would start now."
YOU'VE TALKED ABOUT FEELING DRAWN TO GREEN AS A COLOR, PARTIALLY BECAUSE OF YOUR BIRTHSTONE, PERIDOT. IS THERE A SPECIFIC COLOR THAT YOU ASSIGN TO ALYS?
"Purple."
"The dress I wear — that’s like her uniform, really — is purple."
"Purple is actually quite a royal color, and I like it because it’s neither green nor black, and it’s not attaching itself to any side."
"Alys has her own identity and she travels in some ways right down the middle."
"It’ll be interesting to see where we go in terms of her color palette."
HARRENHAL IS IMPLIED TO BE INCREDIBLY HAUNTED. DO YOU HAVE A FAVORITE PIECE OF HAUNTED-HOUSE MEDIA?
"I recently rewatched the Kristen Stewart movie Personal Shopper, by Olivier Assayas."
"That movie undoes me: There’s something so grounded and realistic about it that I could imagine that happening to me."
"There’s something weirdly Harrenhal-y about it, too, because of the water and the kind of damp, echoey, very subtle beginning of the presence."
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actiniumwrites · 2 years ago
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𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃
synopsis: you attempt to come to terms with the way cyno feels about you, not realizing you’ve completely misinterpreted his feelings
characters: cyno x gn!reader
wc: 1.1k
warnings: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, misunderstandings, insecurity
notes: so this is very loosely based on a dream/nightmare i had like week ago with this person i’ve liked for about 2 years now. it was an incredibly vulnerable dream and i’ve been wanting to write for cyno for a little bit now so i felt like this was a perfect opportunity :D
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Burning.
It’s all you could focus on as you walk next to the General Mahamatra. The burning sensation stinging your eyes. Not even the painful silence holds your attention.
Neither of you were speaking. And if you were being honest, you were glad. Not because you’re mad or upset with him or don’t want to hear his voice. No. It was just too painful. Your head is hung toward the floor and your eyes are half shut to help keep the tears at bay. Cyno couldn’t see them, you think. You don’t want to make him feel bad.
You wince when a sniffle leaves your nose abruptly, almost uncontrolled. If Cyno hadn’t realized you were silently crying to yourself before, he was bound to notice now. It’s okay, you think in a pathetic attempt at reassuring yourself, he was going to notice at some point.
Part of you hoped he wouldn’t, but you knew it was inevitable. You only wished that it could have been closer to your house. That way you could just run off if things got too embarrassing and cry yourself to sleep in the comfort of your own home.
How unfortunate for things to not work out that way. Although it seemed things often didn’t for you. Nothing new.
“Tissue?” He offers quietly.
You aren’t sure where he pulled it out from — maybe he had already known this was coming when he offered to walk you home, you hoped not though. You take it anyway.
“Thank you,” you whisper quietly, just quiet enough to disguise the sadness in your voice.
“So, do you want to tell me what’s wrong now or should I just ask around later?” he asks bluntly when you’re done. You notice he hadn’t been looking at you at all. Maybe your mood was ruining his too.
“I’d rather not,” you say.
His voice changes when he speaks again, almost as if it’s breaking away. It’s more vulnerable and you don’t like it. It isn’t something you’re used to, it’s unsettling almost, and reaffirms your feeling that something is wrong, “Please, just tell me what’s wrong.” His voice drops to an unusual whisper, like you aren’t supposed to hear what he has to say next, “I hate seeing you like this.”
“I’m sorry.”
It’s the the only thing you can think of to say to him. In your current state, with a clouded mind devoid of any logic, you don’t know what else you could have said.
“…Sorry? What could you possibly be sorry for?” Cyno switches tones in an instant, more interrogational like he was just a general and you weren’t his friend. Like you were strangers. Like he couldn’t see what’s right in front of his face.
You go quiet again, save for the occasional sniffle and the rustling of your hands desperately trying to keep those pesky tears off your face. You never answer his question and Cyno doesn’t utter a word. His patience had always been both a blessing and a curse.
When your house appears up ahead, Cyno stops without you realizing. He catches you by surprise when his hand reaches for your own and pulls you back toward him. It’s dark outside and the city lights aren’t doing much to illuminate the area around you, but Cyno’s serious expression is as clear as day.
You won’t be able to avoid his questions this time.
His hand doesn’t leave yours, but it’s gentle and he’s careful not to hurt you or make you feel pressured in any way. The last thing he wants to do is scare you off, something he’d done since he met you.
He pulls you a little closer to him and your chest is almost touching his as he speaks, “I know I can be intimidating and I’m not the gentlest person alive but, you know you can tell me when something is wrong, right? We’re friends and if I did something to upset or hurt you, I want you to tell me so I can fix my wrongs.”
Your eyes don’t meet his as you sigh and attempt to pull back, “No, I just— it’s not fair, okay? If you’ve already made up your mind then I don’t understand why you’re still hanging around me! I get it, there’s better people out there and it was stupid for me to think I ever had a chance with you, but you don’t have to pretend to like me when you really don’t.”
It’s silent again and somehow it’s more uncomfortable this time around.
“What?” Cyno asks out of shock, uncharacteristically stumbling over his words at your sudden outburst, “I don’t- I don’t understand?”
Your bottom lip starts to tremble again and the burning sensation returns once more. This time you can feel a lump building at the back of your throat. With a defeated whisper, you drop his hand and walk back toward your house, “Forget it.”
Cyno catches up to you in a heartbeat and stands directly in front of you, blocking you from getting to your house, “Will you please just explain all of this to me? I’m not sure if there’s been some sort of miscommunication between you and me or someone else but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Someone at the Akademiya told me to give up on you! That you liked someone else and were just keeping me around until you could make a decision,” you explain, tiredly giving in to his questioning.
“Who told you that?” his tone changes. It’s angry, bitter even, but he tones it down when he notices your freaked out expression, “I want you to listen to me. There isn’t anyone else. There never has been, never will be. I know I’m stoic and people have a hard time telling when I’m being serious or when I’m joking, but I’m being serious when I say that you are the only person I’ve ever had real feelings for.”
His confession catches you off guard.
“Cyno, I-“ you stop to swallow the lump in your throat, “You really mean it?”
“I swear on my life,” he says firmly and a small smile appears on your face. Cyno feels his heart rest peacefully in his chest at the sight of it. It had felt like an eternity since you last smiled around him.
The light hanging over your porch shines carefully over his features and illuminates the softness of his crimson eyes as he stares at you.
“May I?” he asks, staring down at your lips.
You nod and, just like that, his lips are pressed against yours. He can feel you smiling into the kiss, and as he pulls back, he’s smiling too.
“Don’t ever doubt my love for you again.”
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ridiasfangirlings · 1 month ago
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i feel like it gets glazed over in a lot of the fandom etc but the main 3 of homra are genuinely so well written imo
rewatching r:b makes me think abt how mikoto is geniunely emotionally smart the way he read yamata and his view on fushimi, then again with totsuka i just the way hes written and how you can see the different sides of him
idk i just thought it needed appreciation
To be honest when I first watched K I didn’t like Mikoto very much, I thought he was hard to read and just didn’t have a lot of interest in him. The side materials really helped though, I agree that he’s actually written very well as a character. I like that he’s such a contrast to Munakata, where Munakata saw being King as answering a question for Mikoto it was like equal parts blessing and curse — it both allowed him to protect the people he cares about and gave him a group of people who he wants to protect, but at the same time this power always puts them in danger and Mikoto has to dull himself to keep from losing control. He’s very focused on living freely and doing as he pleases, but it’s not like he’s unaware of the consequences either. One of the things I really like about the King and the Traitor short story (besides, like, all of it) is how when Fushimi berates him for being selfish Mikoto is just like ‘yup,’ like he kinda wanted someone to say that to him and he actually appreciated Fushimi being honest. And in general Mikoto caring about people — especially Fushimi — while looking like he doesn’t is great, in both the aforementioned short story and in LSW when he shows up after Hisui is defeated, I think it’s very clear to literally everyone but Fushimi that Mikoto cares about his well being. Mikoto puts on an image like this violent barbarian but he’s clearly very perceptive in his own way and does understand his people.
Totsuka I think tends to get flattened down by fandom some and it’s a shame because I love the duality of Totsuka. Like on the one hand he’s a tragic cinnamon roll who dies to start the story rolling, but he’s also someone with his own selfishness and flaws and he’s keenly aware of both how other people see him and his own feelings. He’s internalized the idea of himself as someone who ‘doesn’t hold onto anything’ and thinks that seeing Mikoto be King is the only thing he truly wants, and seems to treat it flippantly when Anna says he’ll die if he stays near Mikoto — but when he’s actually dying he regrets, and he’s upset, because he did truly want to stay with everyone. He can switch between being friends with everyone in Homra on equal footing and ‘seeming like he’s watching over them,’ he clearly tries to get Fushimi and Yata to understand each other and make up but he’s also very aware when he’s pushing Fushimi’s buttons and keeps doing it anyway. He can be friends with everyone but also cruel when he wants to be, and he thinks of himself as selfish because he wants Mikoto to be King more than Mikoto himself wants it. My favorite part of Totsuka is that he could have been this perfect innocent angel martyr but he’s actually a much more complex and interesting character than that. 
And of course poor Kusanagi, with his dead friends. Honestly if there’s one complaint I have with the writing for the Homra trio it’s probably in Kusanagi, because he’s great but I don’t think the series follows through with him enough. I’ve complained before about Circle Vision giving the dreams to the wrong people, Homra’s dream should have 100% been Kusanagi’s and taken time to explore his grief, because I feel like the show at large glosses over it. Like that whole movie was everyone else being like ‘yeah so this is a dream’ and basically everyone except Sukuna and Kusanagi accept that. Kusanagi would normally be one to immediately notice it though, it’s just he clearly doesn’t want to because he wants his friends back. I love that Mikoto and Totsuka stay behind with him a bit and drink with him but I really wanted more of that, justice for Kusanagi. I like everything that they do with him before that, especially in Side Red where we get the first hints of it with Kusanagi and Shiotsu talking about ‘when your King crumbles what will you do.’ I think Kusanagi in particular has the hardest role in the trio, because Mikoto’s accepted he’ll likely die eventually due to being a King and I think Totsuka’s always assumed he’d die first, while Kusanagi is the one who really has to accept that he’s going to be the one to survive.
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tojisbbg · 2 years ago
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𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙
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❝and i am the idiot with the painted face, in the corner, taking up space.❞  
♡ izana kurokawa ♡
pt. 1
a/n: i love putting mikey and izana stans through pain lolz. 
content: royal! au, prince izana x princess y/n (reader), arranged marriage, shitty/toxic parenting, angst, cheating, izana’s a jerk, swearing/cursing, maybe smut (?), strangers to enemies to lovers, not checked for grammatical errors. 
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
nothing ever lasts forever. 
you looked at the roses that were becoming shriveled up, slowly withering. the cold, unforgiving winter was soon to come. the grassy fields filled with flowers and little creatures of mother nature would be embraced by cold arms, blanketed with snow. 
you bitterly grimaced at how this pathetic flower was used as a symbol of love. ironically, it fits. 
love?
no such thing truly exists, and even if it does, it’s either fake or bound to die in the future. 
you leaned down, picking up one of the sorrowful roses from the royal garden, looking at it with pity. while plucking off the petals, you accidentally pricked your finger from one of the thorns on the stem. 
you were startled from the short-lived pain, looking at your index finger as you saw the small droplet of the crimson red liquid. 
“you truly are evil.” you whispered, throwing the stupid flower on the ground just like any other worthless piece of trash. 
“princess! what are you doing out here in such weather?! you’ll catch a cold!” one of the maids rushed in, concern and fear written all over her face. 
“could i never get a second of peace and quiet? what is it that you need?” you harshly spat out, knowing that these stupid women didn’t care for your actual well-being. 
they were ordered to for the sake of their pockets being filled. 
of course, the world had to revolve around money and green of us filthy human beings. 
“the king and queen has requested for you.” she spoke with a low voice, eyes not meeting your glaring ones. 
“tell them to fuck off.” you bluntly replied, getting up to walk towards the orchid tree that was located way far back towards the end of the garden. suddenly, you felt the maid drop on her knees, holding one of your legs. 
“what the fuck, get off of me!” you tried to wiggle her off, but she shook her head in refusal. 
“please, princess! your father has already threatened all of us to have our heads chopped off because of not having you follow your daily routine. you must come or else our lives are at stake!” she sobbed, making you look down at them with a disgusted expression. 
“you sick morons.” you grumbled under your breath, agreeing to head inside which made her thank you as if you were god himself granting her a blessing. 
the maid escorted you to your parent’s room, afraid that you might not stay true to your words. regardless, you decided to have it her way to save her sanity. after reaching the door of your parent’s room, the maid knocked on the door before entering. 
“the princess is here, your highness.” she informed before taking her leave which was your cue to enter. you closed the door behind you, seeing the both of them sitting on the edge of their bed, looking at you with a small smile. 
“why did you call me?” you asked, cutting straight to the chase. you knew that your parents were filled with bullshit, all they cared about is being the most powerful kingdom to ever exist. 
power, money, fame. 
they wanted it all and it made you sick to your stomach. your morals and view on topics that were flaming hot to them largely differed. you just wanted to live a simple life, and it’s not that you’re an ungrateful brat. 
you just have the world’s shittiest parents. 
“is that how you were taught to speak to people, y/n?” you father snapped back at you, clearly displeased by your response. 
“i don’t even speak to anyone in general, so who cares?” you commented with a shrug, making your mother sigh in disappointment. 
“well, you will eventually one day in the future. you’ll inherit the throne, have a husband and lead your joined kingdoms until you pass it down to your kids.” she explained to you with a soft tone, nearly making you gag. 
“me? marriage? as if.” you laughed, but your parents only looked at you with a serious expression. your voiced died down, now looking at them with nothing but shock and disbelief. 
“why are you both quiet? tell me it’s a joke, what’s wrong with you?” you angrily scoweled, but they remained quiet. 
“y/n, you’re no longer our little girl anymore. you’re a young woman now, who’s ready to fulfill her duties as the future queen and as someone’s wife.” your father tried to caress your cheek in a loving manner, but you swatted his hand away, on the brink of tears. 
“how dare you! does my voice or opinion not have any worth to you guys? how can you decide such a big thing for me without even thinking about if i want it or not!” you raged, wanting to dig yourself a small grave right on the spot you were standing in. 
“you don’t have a say, y/n! what don’t you understand?! you must get married, it’s an order by our law and nature. you’re a princess for god’s sake!” your mother scolded you, getting fed up from such childish behavior from you. 
“then fuck being a princess, i’ll run away.” you threatened, your tears streaming down your face as your heart ached. 
“you know that’ll never work, so stop being immature and try to accept things as how it is.” your father snickered, making you wanna rip your hair out. 
“then i’ll end my life.” it was a rather rash thing to say, but it caught the attention of your parents, especially your father. he clutched onto his chest, breathing heavily, which alarmed your mother. she quickly rushed to his side, laying him down on the mattress while you watched with a blank expression.
“how dramatic. he should’ve signed up to become a theater entertainer than be a king.” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“y/n! that’s enough.” your mother said through gritted teeth, fanning your father who coughed like a man that’s been smoking thirty cigars a day. 
“if you both are done wasting my time, may i leave?” you yawned, getting bored of the same kind of shit that you had to go through nearly every day. 
she didn’t bother looking up at you, ignoring your words as a way to indicate that she didn’t care. 
“could’ve just said yes, y’know.” with that being said, you turned your heels and walked out, making sure to slam the door extra hard to piss them off even more. 
you giggled after hearing the noise echoing through the empty halls, knowing for sure that your parents are probably talking shit about you right now. you hummed a small tune as you walked to your room. 
“they’re crazy to think that i would actually agree to this shit.” you talked to yourself as you began to strip out of your gown, throwing it on your bed before walking inside your bathroom. 
you shoved a finger inside the tub, checking if the temperature was right. you grinned in content, feeling the warmth of the water as you eagerly stepped in, lowering yourself slowly. 
you couldn’t help but feel sorry for yourself. there are thousands of people out there who wished to be in your spot right now, living the life as a princess. 
but, they only see your life from a small glass window, not being able to peak further deep inside. 
they think that just because you bathe in luxury every day, your life is perfect. what they don’t see is how trapped you feel, how your parents are so controlling over your life, almost as if you were their very own puppet. 
why?
you were hidden away from your whole life, envying the lives of commoners. you were homeschooled while everyone else went to public schools. you had no friends nor were you allowed to explore the village because it makes you appear improper. you have to wear bigass, itchy and uncomfortable gowns every day. 
you hated it, absolutely hated it with every fiber in your body. if only all of your problems could be drowned like this, then maybe life wouldn’t have been so bad.
“i don’t care what it takes, i won’t be getting married.” you promised yourself, sinking deeper into the tub until you were completely submerged in the water. 
...
“no, no! you can’t do this to me! i’m your fucking daughter, not a puppet. please, don’t do this. i’ll do anything, just don’t give me away.” you pleaded to your mother as you sat on your bed, dressed into the wedding dress that the maids successfully had shoved you inside. 
“y/n, my baby, please just listen to me. your father and i love you so mu-”
“bullshit! absolute bullshit, stop lying to me! god, all you both ever do is lie! fuck, i hate you guys so much.” you wept, not caring that you had streaks of mascara running down your face. 
“you need to understand that your father isn’t in the best condition to rule the kingdom. his heart problems are getting worse, and i won’t be able to take care of everything all by myself. joining our kingdom with the kurokawa’s would lessen the burden on us.” she tried to reason, taking a napkin to wipe away your ruined makeup as you looked up at her with glossy eyes, seeing not a single hint of care or adoration. 
her eyes looked empty and you knew that these people would not hesitate to sell you off like some kind of livestock if they needed some money. 
“you guys disgust me. all you care about is your benefits and never about me. you want me to get married? fine, i’ll get fucking married. since you guys along with that fucker that agreed to this shit basically ruined my life, i’ll make sure to return the favor.” you smirked, getting up as you grabbed the smashed bouquet of flowers. 
“y/n-”
“don’t wanna hear it.” you cut her off, walking off to head downstairs where the chapel was. you saw your father waiting down by the stairs for you, looking at you with a horrified face. 
“y/n? your makeup is-”
“does it look like i care? are you gonna walk me down the aisle or should i go by myself?” you impatiently said, making your father’s jaw drop from the sudden change of attitude. you avoided eye contact with him, not being able to bear the sight of how your father looked pleased with the change of heart you had, completely overlooking the fact of how your eyes screamed in despair. 
“of course not, dear. come on.” he heartily chuckled, linking your arms together before leading you inside the chapel. your body burned with hatred, every step that you took felt like your legs were chained with weights. 
“you could hate me all you want, y/n, but one day you’ll realize that everything that i have done for you is for the best.” your father said, his words completely flying over your head as you knew that it would be no use of saying anything to him. 
it’s too late anyways. 
the doors opened, a blinding ray of light hitting you as you could picture the chapel looking as beautiful as ever, knowing that your mother hired the best in town to decorate everything. however, you kept your eyes on the ground, being led up the few step as your father finally let go of your arm. 
the priest began to read the wedding vows and midway there was a pause to allow the exchange of rings to occur. 
your soon-to-be husband extended his hand, waiting for you to place yours on his palm. his skin was tan, long slender fingers with a few veins being painted on the surface of his hand as well. with a heavy heart, you lightly placed your hand on his, making sure to have minimal skin-to-skin contact with him. 
“izana?” the priest called out, and for the first time, you’ve heard what your husband’s name was. 
“yes?” he answered, his voice deep and smooth like honey. 
“do you take y/n as your wife, promising to stay by her side through better or worse, sickness and in health, till death pulls you both apart?” the familiar lines were recited, making your vision become a blur with tears. 
those vows, these same sacred words to prove one’s faith and love to each other, it wasn’t meant for you or this izana guy. you had the right to wait for your knight and shining armor, your romeo and your prince charming. 
“i do.” izana said firmly, his voice not shaking at all as he was ready to seal the deal. 
“y/n?” the sudden intrusion of the voice startled you as you were deeply indulged in your train of thoughts. 
“what?” you blurted out without any thought, hearing gasps around the room as you swore at yourself before muttering a quick apology to the priest. 
“that’s quite alright, dear. do you take izana as your husband, promising to stay by his side through better or worse, sickness and in health, till death pulls you both apart?” the same lines almost seemed taunting you know, as if it was mocking your situation. you were thankful that the veil was covering your face, as your face was now covered with streaks of your dried tears. 
it was never supposed to be this way. 
you shouldn’t be up here getting married to some stranger whom you’ve never met before. as the crowd began to silently gossip among themselves, you felt like your knees would give up any minute from how anxious you felt. 
you had two choices. 
you still had the chance to run away, maybe even go abroad to another village far away from here and keep your identity hidden until you could get on a ship to go overseas. 
you don’t take izana kurokawa as your loving husband whom you swear to spend the rest of your life with through sickness and in health. 
you’re no princess, and you’re most certainly not qualified to be a queen who should rule such a vast kingdom. to all those stuck up people that are like loyal dogs under royal laws, you’re their puppet that’s being trained to become a loyal dog just like them. 
but you weren’t one of them nor did you wish to become like them. you’re not a dog who’ll abide by the rules, trained to serve their husband and a piece of land. 
no, absolutely not. 
you were a caged bird who wished to be free. you read many books that were stored in the castle’s library. there are about 18,000 species of birds out there, roaming freely to their heart’s desire. 
beautiful and colorful wings that allow them to explore different place in the earth. you wished to be like them, you too want to spread your wings and take a leap of faith in life. you want to go to the amazon forest, see the creation of mother nature. 
and you knew well enough that in order to do that, you must take a risk. it was a 50/50, but at this point, who cares about the odds?
“i do.”
...
the wedding was over and you were now headed towards the kurokawa kingdom, which wasn’t too far off from your own. it was a two hour car ride, you thought you would be able to rest in the comforts of your own room for the night. 
to your dismay, your parents had other plans. 
they had the maids pack up your things and have it waiting for you already at your new “home”. to you it seemed like your parents were only counting how much time was left till you would finally depart from them. 
assholes. 
it was an awful wedding. 
all the dishes that were served were shit that you were forced to eat as a child. it’s true that you were a picky eater but you weren’t always like this. the castle’s diet consisted of eating only clean foods to prevent health concerns like obesity or heart problems since they both ran in the family. 
to which you weren’t against at first. 
but you could vividly remember how when you went down to the village and stopped by a small udon shop to try their delicious meat udon special, your mother soon arrived and ripped you away from the shop before threatening to have you skip dinner. 
she would give the same lecture about how men like women who have a nice figure, long lucious hair along with a shy and soft demeanor. 
to which you would simply just walk off while she kept on going off, pretty much talking to herself since you didn’t even bother to listen to her bullshit. 
the guests were snobby, from both sides of the family. while izana was busying himself on entertaining those fools with a charming smile and soft eyes, you gave everyone who tried to approach you a death stare.
izana kurokawa. 
after you both exchanged your vows, it was time to show the god awful crowd the love and devotion you both have towards each other. 
a kiss. 
you were going to kiss izana kurokawa, who was now your husband. you were going to kiss a man whom you’ve never seen or heard of before until an hour ago. 
gentle hands lifted your veil as you slowly looked up, eyes meeting for the first time. it felt like time had stopped, you couldn’t stop staring at him. 
he was gorgeous. 
the title of a prince was meant for izana kurokawa. he was responsible, kind and caring. snowy white hair that was parted, mesmerizing amethyst eyes with soft white lashes, honey glazed skin and a small smile on his lips. 
izana bent down, his face hovering above yours as you could feel his warm breath fanning over your flesh. you closed your eyes, waiting his lips to meet yours. 
however, no such thing ever happened. 
his lips weren’t touching yours, barely brushing against them to say the least. yet, the guests roared with cheers and you soon came to realization. you opened your eyes, only to see those same lips curl into a smirk as he lazily eyed down at you. 
izana kurokawa was not your husband because he too didn’t want to fulfill that role in your life. 
you were not his wife nor would you ever be. 
“we’re here, sir.” the drive came to a stop as the driver announced the arrival to the destination, pulling up to the castle doors. izana hummed in acknowledgment, as one of the guards opened the door for him. without a word, he left with the slam of the door, leaving you alone in the car. 
“what a fucking jerk.” you grumbled to yourself, hearing the driver faintly chuckle as you shot him a glare from the backseat, knowing that he’d see it on the car’s rear mirror. 
“the hell are you laughing at, huh?” you boldly spoke up, making him look back with a small smile. 
“princess, do not be so naive. our prince is not like those whom you’ve read about in tales like cinderella or sleeping beauty. it’s not my place to talk ill about our soon to be king, but you’ll find out soon enough, so don’t be deceived.” he warned, making you harshly gulp. 
the driver was nice enough to pull the door open for you, offering a rough hand to help your get out of the car since your dress seemed like it weighed over a thousand pounds. 
the kurokawa kingdom was north from your own kingdom, but you never thought that it would make this much of a difference in weather. your wedding dress was sleeveless, making the cold breeze hit your skin as you shivered. 
you noticed how the castle was built on a hill, the grass was barely alive, most likely due to the cold weather. it was a mountainous area after all. 
“shall we?” one of the butler interrupted your thoughts, waiting with the door opened as you nodded. 
you entered the castle doors, seeing how the interiors were nothing like your boring castle design. it was purple and gold, art works of famous artists hung up on the wall of angelic beings, and the halls smelled faintly of lavender. 
“shall i take you to your room, prince-”
“that won’t be necessary, we have to talk about a few things. don’t worry, i’ll take it from here.” izana cut him off, walking down the grand stairs. 
“of course, sir.” the butler bowed his head before leaving. 
“we have nothing to talk about. it’s nearly midnight and i’m tired, i want to go to bed.” you groaned, trailing behind him as you were now in the living room. 
“there’s some rules that you must follow now that you live with me.” he informed, sitting down as he crossed one leg over the other. 
“how lovely, i came from one prison to another. life truly loves me, huh?” you bitterly chuckled, crossing your arms over your chest as you glared at him. 
“how pitiful.” faux sympathy was painted all over his features, making your blood boil. 
“hey bitchface, who do take me as? you think that just because we’re married now, you could do whatever you want with me as you wish? please, don’t make me laugh.” you giggled, getting up as you walked over to him. izana’s face remained unfazed with his previous smug look. 
you bent down to come at eye level with his sitting stature.
“i never listened to my own parents rules, so, the fuck made you think that i’d listen to yours?” you taunted, cocking an eyebrow as he maintained eye contact with you. 
“unlike your parents, i could have you out of this castle with the snap of a finger. i’m not as sympathetic nor do i give a single shit about you like your parents. you are their child whom they tolerated, but to me, you’re nothing but a nobody. so, mind your tone when speaking to me.” izana strictly said, giving you a sarcastic smile as he was able to see that he made his point across. 
you sighed as you walked back to the sofa, plopping down while you waited for him to open his shitty mouth once again to tell you about his so-called rules. 
“your room is located on the east wing of the castle and my room is in the west wing, so there shouldn’t be a reason why i should ever see yo-”
“first of all, how fucking self-centered are you to even think that i’d go to your room? you think i’m some kind of bimbo who’ll be all dolled up on your bed or clean up after your ass? i’d rather die than go to you.” you angrily spat out, in complete disbelief that this jackass had the audacity to even think of you like that. 
“well that’s a relief, it’s good that you aren’t stupid. the problem is, your manners are so shit.” he scoffed, looking at you like you’re some kind of alien. 
“weren’t you taught to never cut people off mid sentence? especially, to your husband.” izana mocked, tilting his head to the side as he knew he was slowly pushing all of your buttons. 
“you want me to ruin the price worthy face of your so bad, huh?” you kissed your teeth in annoyance. 
“anyways, you should almost never come to my room unless absolutely necessary. we have many maids and butlers, so feel free to ask them about any concerns. second, i really don’t give a shit.” he blurted out, making you choke on your spit. 
“what?” you gasped. 
“you don’t understand basic english? i said, i don’t give a shit. you’re free to do whatever you please with yourself, you could go wherever you want with whomever you want. your life doesn’t concern me nor should mine concern you. we didn’t marry each other out of love, nor do we consider each other as husband and wife. just don’t make things too obvious. deal?” he stuck out a hand, looking at you with anticipation. 
“you got yourself a deal, prince jackass.” you stood up and began to make your way to your room. 
all you wanted to do was just sleep everything away. you wanted to drift inside a good dream where there was no mom or dad, no izana, no royal duties and no sadness. 
just you and only you. 
...
you rolled around in bed, not wanting to open your eyes and have the bright sunlight hit your sight and blind you. but, soon enough, someone barged into your room and it nearly sent you into a coma. 
you eyes went wide as you sat up, startled when you saw a few of the maids coming in. you grumbled under your breath, looking at them with a pissed facial expression. 
“god, don’t you people know how to knock?” you scolded, making them apologize as you let out a sigh. 
“it’s past lunchtime, your highness.” one of them informed you, making you look at them like they had three heads. 
“what?!” you screamed, sitting up as your hair was a tangled mess. you were still in your wedding dress, too tired the night before to even have the energy to take it off. 
“your bath is ready and breakfast has been served as well. lord kurokawa has gone out for royal duties if you were wondering.” the butler from yesterday butted in, making you scoff. 
lord kurokawa? what an arrogant asshole. 
“yeah to hell with him, i don’t care where he is.” you yawned, getting up as you shooed everyone out of your room. you hated noise, especially during mornings. 
mornings were meant to be peaceful and silent, relaxing and slow. they were only meant for you and only you. you stripped out of the poofy gown before detangling your hair and removing the remaining makeup smudged on your face. 
when you stepped inside the bathroom, a gasp of nothing but pure amazement and shock left your lips. it was a gorgeous bathroom, everything covered in marbel and polished. the bathtub looked like a swimming pool, making you quickly rush over to fill it up with hot water. 
as you sunk your naked body in the water, a blissful sigh left your lips as your eyes rolled back. 
this really hits the spot. 
you leaned back, closing your eyes as you began to fall into deep thought. you wondered, how would you spend the rest of your days in this castle? a part of you wished that izana was a little more friendlier, then perhaps you could’ve had a platonic relationship of enjoying life. 
well, that wasn’t that case, and maybe you liked it that way. 
you finished your royal bath and the rest of the consisted of you lounging in the castle. you had to admit that izana’s criteria and choice of the cooks had to be one of the finest, as both breakfast and lunch almost made you ascend to heaven. 
living away from your parents did rise some perks, and to make things even better, izana wasn’t around majority of the times. you were free to dress however you wished, no need for fancy dresses that squished your ribcages and made it hard to breathe. 
for once in your life, you were sitting in the living room with a huge bucket of ice cream in your lap while wearing a pair of shorts and tank-top. 
and no one could tell you shit about it. 
you heard the front door open, indicating that someone has arrived home. one of the maid’s rushed to your side as you shoved a huge mouthful of the sweet dairy treat in your mouth. 
“your highness, lord kurokawa has arrived.” she notified, making you lazily hum at her as you were more concerned about the plot of the drama you’re watching. 
“cool.” you shrugged before shooing her away, not caring that your fake husband came back from his royal duties. 
“is dinner ready?” the deep familiar voice questioned the butler who was removing his very expensive winter coat. 
“yes, sir. allow me to help you freshen up.” the butler offered, making izana hum in agreement. 
“god, do you wipe his ass after he takes a shit too?” you snickered, making the butler gasp as he looked at you with wide eyes. however, izana remained unfazed before turning to you with a small smirk. 
“oh, that’s not his job but my wife’s. however, it seems like she’s too busy being a pig.” he fired back, making you shoot him a hateful glare. 
“annoying piece of shit.” you mumbled under your breath before averting your focus back onto the huge tv screen. izana left to freshen up before sitting in the dining space, eating by himself. 
you couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him, knowing that he lived inside this castle by himself all his life and did pretty much everything alone. you didn’t know much about the kurokawa family, but you knew that izana was the last person in the bloodline to exist because his family was brutally murdered years ago in a war that nearly killed your father. 
your thoughts would soon be gone as you saw the man right in front of you, arms crossed over his chest. 
“go to bed, every electrical device that makes noise in this castle must be turned off. i have very sharp ears, so even the slightest sound will awaken me.” izana ordered, making you scoff. 
“well, i’m so sorry sleeping beauty, but that seems like a you problem. shove some cotton balls in your ears and go to sleep.” you replied, seeing his jaw lock in annoyance, making you internally high-five yourself. 
“you’re infuriating.” he grumbled, turning his heels before heading upstairs to his room. you laughed to yourself in satisfaction, throwing a few more popcorns in your mouth as you continued to watch your show. 
---
you groaned in pain, rolling over until you fell to the ground with a yelp. you winced in pain as you rubbed your ass. 
“fucking hell.” you cursed, not realizing when you fell asleep on the sofa. you heard a chuckle coming from behind you, opening your sleepy eyes to see the white haired fool sipping his tea while laughing. 
“i knew that was gonna happen, you stupid little girl.” izana shook his head in disbelief, continuing to fill out some paperwork. you stood up and marched your way towards him, glaring down at him. 
“you absolute jackass. this is why no woman would ever fall in love with you, stupid piece of shit.” you threw insult after insult at him, yet he seemed unfazed by your comments. 
“what a rough way to start your morning. you should go brush your teeth to get that bad breath and language out of your mouth.” he smirked, making you gasp in embarrassment as you covered your mouth, forgetting that morning breath exists. 
“i hope you choke on your tea and die.” you said in a muffled voice, rushing up to your room to freshen up so that you could give him a proper piece of your mind. but, to your dismay, by the time you came downstairs he was already gone. 
“coward.” you mumbled to yourself, settling down at your seat as the maids served you breakfast. you decided that you’ll have an outing to yourself today at the village, wanting to experience an adventure you never got the chance to fulfill. 
“excuse me, would you please drop me off by the village today after breakfast?” you asked izana’s butler, to which he gave you a polite smile. 
“it would be my pleasure.” he replied, making you contented with the answer as you finished your meal. 
you decided to dress in common clothing, a simple white dress that fell below your knees; decorated with strawberries. 
“you look lovely, my lady.” the butler complimented, and you thanked him, excited to try new things out. 
after reaching the village, you bid the butler goodbye as he promised to pick you up before sunset. 
your first stop was the flower shop, eyes glimmering at the colorful plants. there was roses, dhalias, petunias, marigolds and so much more!
“hello miss, how may i help you today?” the lady spoke, startling you a little. 
“your flowers are gorgeous! may i take a smell?” you asked, the lady giving you a warm smile before nodding. 
you went ahead and took a sniff of every one of them, sighing in bliss at the sweet scent of each of them. nature’s creation was truly heavenly and it made you wish if you could just run away to the woods and live in a cottage; away from the evil that resided in society. 
your eyes fell on the lilacs, sitting ever so prettily in the bouquet. you couldn’t help but think of how the color struck you and made you think of your evil husband. 
“would you like to buy any of them?” the lady asked and you nodded you head. 
“i’ll take those lilacs, please.” you said with a small smile, convincing yourself that it was because these pretty purple flowers would look great in the vase on top of the dining table. 
your next stop was to try all the food stalls, looking at your pocket watch and noticing how it was nearly lunch time. you decided to indulge yourself, ordering a bowl of seafood udon for yourself and a side of braised duck meat. 
your parents would’ve killed you if they saw you eating like this. 
but right now, food is life. 
you ate to your heart’s happiness, closing your eyes as you could feel tears of joy forming at the corner of your eyes. you’ve never tasted food this delicious before and it made you appreciate yourself for keeping your will to live still strong. 
you slurped the noodles like no tomorrow, gulping down the broth right after. you lipstick was gone, the corners of your mouth messy with the broth as you sniffled from the heat of the food. you quickly cleaned yourself up, not wanting to look like a pig in front of other although you did eat like one just now. 
you properly disposed the items and continued your little journey. 
suddenly, a weeping little toddler clung onto your legs. you bent down, trying to level your eyes with her glossy ones. 
“mama?” she cried, making your heart shatter. 
“did you lose her, honey?” you spoke with a soft voice, seeing the little girl nod her head. you embraced the tiny human, carrying her as you tried to calm her down. 
“let’s go find your mama then.” you smiled, patting her back as you began to walk around with the little girl in your arms. 
“ice cream!” you heard her squeal, amking you hum as your eyes followed the direction she pointed in. 
“oh, you want one?” you asked, to which she eagerly nodded, making you chuckle as you walked towards the small shop. you got the little girl a strawberry cone while you got mango. 
“so yummy.” she giggled, making your heart swell from her cuteness. you were walking towards the small flower garden, wanting to take a little break and finish your ice cream. 
until you noticed a familiar figure sitting on the bench with another person. you got a closer look and indeed it was izana.
with another woman. 
you saw him holding her hand while laughing, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she giggled. they both were sharing a slice of cake and you saw the way his eyes sparkled every time she breathed. 
was he always this sweet? how he tenderly caressed her skin like she was porcelain.
a foreign emotion of jealousy brewed inside you, a sudden wave of rage filled your insides. it was then that izana’s eyes fell on you, his smile dropping as he saw you with the child in your arms. 
“y/n?” he called out your name, and it sent chills down your spine as it felt so new to hear him call you without any insult. 
“izana.” you said his name back, making him swallow harshly. 
“do you both know each other?” the woman next to him asked, she looked and smelled like a princess, when you looked like a commoner. izana’s eyes begged you to make up some lie, to which you gave him a sly grin. 
“why of course we do, right izana?” you taunted, making the silver haired male grow nervous. 
“honey, i can explain.” izana turned to the woman, but she looked suspicious. 
“there’s nothing to explain. we’re cousins, that’s all. stop making everything so weird all the time.” you giggled, making your very much husband sigh in relief, not wanting his mistress to find about his little secret marriage. 
“ohh, nice to meet you. is that your daughter?” his mistress asked, and you contemplated on being truthful, but you wanted to spite izana more. 
“yup, this is my little princess. isn’t she the cutest?” you kissed the little girl’s head, making the woman squeal. izana’s eyes widened, not expecting you to lie like this. 
“she sure is! wow, you’re so young to be a mom though.” she commented, making fake sad eyes. 
“yeah, well, my husband loves me enough to give me such a precious gift. anyways, i should head back now. it was, uh, great meeting you.” you gave her a fake smile before throwing a side glare at izana. the expression on his face is one you couldn’t decipher, but you decided to not pick on it. 
you walked a good distance away from the horrid couple, until you felt the little girl squirm in your hold. 
“mama! mama!” she urged and you placed her on the ground, watching her run to the figure in the distance. 
“oh, my baby!” you heard the lady cry, picking up her daughter a kissing her lovingly. 
“thank you so much for keeping her safe, miss.” she noticed your presence, giving you a grateful smile. 
“no worries.” you nodded your head, ruffling the little girl’s hair before bidding them goodbye. 
---
you reached home, your mood not as uplifting as you had planned. you kicked your sandals off, walking towards the dining table as you placed the lilacs down. one of the maids rushed in, excited to see the bright and beautiful purple flower. 
“are these for lord kurokawa?” she asked, making you scoff. the thought of izana made your blood boil, especially after the shitshow that took place earlier. 
“no, you may dispose those in the garbage. i don’t want to see a single petal on my sight.” you strictly ordered, grabbing your purse to make your way up to your room. there you bumped into izana, who seemed like he’s been standing there the entire time. 
“move, fuckface.” you grumbled, shoving him to the side as you stormed upstairs. you felt him grab your wrist, turning your head to meet his lilac ones. 
“the hell is wrong with you? why are you acting like i’m diseased?” his eyebrows furrowed, making you roll your eyes. 
“say what you have to say because i want to rest.” you ignored his question, making him let out an irritated sigh. 
“since you already know about mai, i don’t think i need to explain myself further-”
“oh, don’t worry. i think i have enough brain cells to piece together that the almighty lord kurokawa has a side bitch.” you snickered, making him glare at you. 
“watch your mouth.” he scoweled, making you grin. 
“make me.” you challenged, watching him ball his fists as your words made his skin crawl. 
“you know what, i don’t even know why i thought i could have a simple conversation with you without wanting to murder you. your parents invited us for dinner this weekend, so act accordingly.” izana informed you before leaving, heading back downstairs. 
“got it! i’ll make sure that they don’t find out about your secret fuck buddy lover that you’re two-timing with, lord kurokawa.” you said in a mocking voice, knowing how much he probably wanted to kill himself right now because you wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. 
you didn’t know why the situation with izana and his mistress got you so riled up. 
you knew that he’s not in love with you nor are you in love with him. 
yet, the idea of him with another woman made you furious. 
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