#Their son who is heavily into men

[warrior-of-storms]

Current To-Do List (tangled threads edition)

Finish second draft of Investigation chapter 3 (then send it off to the beta(s))

Finish chapters 2 & 3 of if it would only get it through to you

Finish/edit Nobody's Son, Nobody's Daughter

Finish flip the record and start over

Plot/draft X-Men story

Plot/draft the WandaVision/Billy, Tommy, & America story

Visual timeline?

Patrol playlists

[grimmweepers]

— ☆ contents: sfw, dad!sukuna handling the morning routine with your girls while you're away, fem!reader, vague hair descriptors for your babies (mention of messy hair and braids), maybe a little ooc, 0.8k wc | masterlist

"Please do our hair, Papa!"

And just like that, their adorable cheeks and flashy grins worked their magic, turning the rare morning without you into a delightful little circus.

It was honestly a travesty, a cosmic joke of the highest order that Sukuna—a man of men, built like he was meant to father sons upon sons—had been blessed with two daughters. And not just any daughters but two miniature versions of you.

You used to get so stressed leaving him alone with them but as they grew into their little personalities, you realised it wasn’t the girls you needed to worry about—it was him.

Sukuna stood in front of the mirror, holding a comb in his hand like it was a foreign weapon, and your youngest, who was perched on a stool in front of him, frowned when she saw that after all his awkward attempts, her hair was still a wild mess.

"Mama doesn't do it like this," she said matter-of-factly. All of four years old but already an expert in hair etiquette, apparently.

He sighed, glancing at her in the mirror with a look of defeat. “Well, guess what? Mama’s not here,” he gruffed, although his mouth twitched upward in amusement, "So you’ve gotta deal with me.”

She pouted as she crossed her little arms, scrunching her nose while giving him the tiniest glare. Sukuna chuckled at the sight. She looked just like you.

“But Mama doesn’t hurt me,” accusatory eyes pierced into her father as if the tugs at her scalp were intentional.

He stopped, deadpan, like he was facing the toughest opponent of his life. “You think I’m trying to hurt you on purpose?” He pointed at the comb, “This thing’s got a mind of its own.”

Your eldest daughter, who had been lounging on the futon and flipping through a picture book, piped up with a smirk, “Mama says you need to be gentle, Papa.”

“Gentle?” he muttered under his breath. She heard him regardless and nodded back at him.

Another dramatic exhale left his lips. He started again, much slower this time, painstakingly working the brush through his daughter’s hair. “Alright, princess, by the time I’m done, you’ll look so pretty, Mama's gonna be jealous. She might even eat you.”

The youngest giggled at that, wiggling in her stool as Sukuna brushed through the last tangle without any major casualties. As he tied off the braid with a ribbon, he stepped back, standing tall with his hands on his hips, impressed with his own work. “There,” he said with more confidence than he probably should, “Nailed it.”

She gave him a sidelong glance, still skeptical but he could see the admiration she was trying to hide, “It’s… okay,” she declared her final verdict. She was acting like it wasn’t the best job though her tone said otherwise.

Meanwhile, your eldest, still on the futon, didn’t miss a beat. “Mama would’ve done it faster.”

Of course, they adore you. Everyone did. But when you weren't around, Sukuna—who could wipe out an entire army with a single swipe and set whole villages aflame—found himself outmatched by a hair comb and two pint-sized versions of the love of his life. It’s no wonder you were able to tame the girls.

But he caught your eldest sliding a thumbs up from behind her book, her way of saying—It looks good, Papa.

And he thinks maybe he’s doing alright. Although, if you were here you would’ve probably swooped in and rescued him long ago whilst being heavily amused by his struggle. Of the two of you, it wasn't difficult to figure out who was more gentle and patient. He swore you could do motherhood in your sleep and he already knew you would tease him later about this.

“You’re thinking about Mama, aren’t you?” Your eldest asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, catching him off guard.

“What makes you say that?” He blinked at her. That slyness? Maybe she took after him more than he'd realised.

She shrugged with all the wisdom of a seven year old who’s already figured out her father. “You always get that look on your face when you’re missing her.”

Sukuna shook his head, “Well, your Mama makes this look easy.” He went back to inspecting his youngest’s head knowing deep down it was far from the flawless work you would’ve done, “Okay, princess. You’re good to go.” She beamed at him and hopped off the stool, happily oblivious to the way the ribbon had already started slipping.

As soon as she scampered off to grab her stuffed bear, he turned his attention to his eldest again, who was quirking her eyebrow and looking every bit like you.

“Listen, kid. Don’t think you’re getting out of this,” he pointed at the stool while giving her a playful glare, “Your turn.”

a/n: holding all of your hands during these trying times. this has been sitting in my draft since august so im glad it's finally out huehue

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[rafecameronssl4t]

Family man || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: first glimpse of Rafe and his first daughter Madeline!!!

Warnings: slight angst?

Word count: 1,358

A/n: will be writing more about readers birth soon dw!!

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The sound of approaching heels echoed down the hall, drawing closer until they stopped outside the door. Barry’s conversation with Rafe came to a standstill as the two men glanced at each other. Barry raised a curious eyebrow, while Rafe’s sharp gaze fixed on the door. His fingers tightened around the glass of scotch before he swiftly brought it to his lips, downing the amber liquid in one go.

As the glass returned to the table with a quiet clink, the door creaked open, revealing you holding Madeline in your arms. Leo, trailed just behind, his small hands tugging at your dress. “My, my, Mrs. Cameron. Looking good,” Barry remarked with a playful grin, his eyes lingering on you longer than Rafe appreciated.

A quiet tension filled the room, unnoticed by Barry but evident in the subtle narrowing of Rafe’s eyes. You offered a polite smile, always composed. “Thank you, Barry,” you replied evenly, stepping further into the room, feeling Rafe’s gaze on you, cold and sharp.

Rafe rolled his eyes, clearly unamused by Barry’s remark, his irritation simmering beneath the surface. “What are you doing here? I’m busy,” Rafe muttered, the frustration lacing his voice unmistakable as he lazily flicked the unlit cigarette in his hand. Your eyes instinctively followed the movement, a silent reminder of a habit you yourself had let go of since the children were born.

You took a breath, your tone firm yet careful, “Can you watch the kids for a couple of hours?” Rafe’s eyebrow arched in disbelief. His voice dripped with incredulity as he spoke, “Don’t we have nannies for this exact reason?” Before you could respond, Leo’s little fingers reached for the glass of scotch perched precariously at the edge of the table.

Without hesitation, you slid it out of his reach, ignoring the whine of protest that followed. Rafe’s lips twitched, amused by his son’s curiosity. He exchanged a brief, knowing glance with Barry before turning his attention back to you. “She’s sick,” you replied, your voice edged with impatience. “I have an appointment.” You reached for the cigarette between his fingers, plucking it from his hand and placing it in the ashtray.

Your fingers brushed briefly against his, but neither of you acknowledged the touch. Instead, you handed Madeline to him, watching as his rough exterior softened momentarily. He cradled your daughter, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she babbled contentedly in his arms. Rafe’s annoyance resurfaced, though it was quieter this time, buried beneath the calm façade he wore so well.

“And I have a meeting,” he sighed, bouncing Madeline gently on his knee. “Cancel your appointment. I doubt it’s that important.” “I can’t,” you shrugged, the weight of his dismissiveness settling heavily on your shoulders. You leaned down to lift Leo onto a chair, keeping your movements deliberate, even as you felt his blue eyes boring into you. This wasn’t the first time he’d brushed off something important to you, and it likely wouldn’t be the last.

As you straightened up, Rafe’s gaze lingered, his irritation now mingled with something more complicated. His protectiveness over the children was undeniable, even as his reluctance to engage with the responsibilities of fatherhood crept into moments like this. You saw it in the way he held Madeline, in the way he looked at Leo, and you knew beneath his cold exterior was a man who loved his family in his own flawed way.

Rafe glanced at Leo, who was now sitting contentedly on the chair, playing with a toy you’d handed him, oblivious to the tension brewing in the room. The smile Rafe had worn moments ago slipped away, replaced with a hard look as he shifted his focus back to you. “And what’s this appointment that’s so important you can’t reschedule it?”

Rafe’s voice was cool, and though his tone lacked the bite you’d grown used to, it still carried the weight of condescension. You straightened, refusing to be diminished under his gaze. “It’s a doctor’s appointment. For me.” You paused, allowing the words to sink in. “I didn’t think I needed to run it by you.”

Rafe’s expression flickered—something shifted in his eyes, but only for a second before the mask slid back into place. He exhaled, frustrated but knowing he couldn’t argue with you on this, at least not outright. He wasn’t a fool; he understood the importance of your health, especially since having Madeline.

But Rafe wasn’t one to back down easily, especially when his pride was on the line. “I’ll make sure the nanny is back tomorrow,” he muttered, bouncing Madeline a little more vigorously now as she giggled at him. “But don’t make a habit of leaving them with me when I have work. You know what kind of pressure I’m under.”

You blinked, stunned by the blatant disregard. Even now, holding your daughter, the reality of his responsibilities as a father seemed secondary to him. Still, you swallowed your frustration. Raising a fight wouldn’t change anything; it never did. “Don’t worry,” you replied quietly, bending down to kiss Leo on the head. “It’s just for today.”

Rafe’s eyes remained on you, scrutinising, calculating as if searching for something in your face—whether it was submission or defiance, you weren’t sure. You had long learned how to mask your emotions, presenting a calm, poised exterior, even when you felt anything but. Barry, who had remained silent for a while, shifted in his seat, clearly sensing the thick tension between you both.

“Hey, it’s just a couple of hours, man. You’ll survive,” he joked, attempting to lighten the mood, but his words caused Rafe to glare at him. Rafe redirected his attention back to you who was at the bar cart, pouring two glasses of water for the kids. Rafe gave Madeline a small smile as she babbled happily in his arms, bouncing her lightly on his knee.

“You’re lucky I love these two,” he mumbled, though his tone carried more warmth now. The sight of his daughter always seemed to soften him, and for a brief moment, it almost felt like things were normal between the two of you. Almost. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Leo standing beside the chair now, looking up at Rafe with wide eyes. He tugged at his father’s sleeve, and Rafe glanced down, his cool exterior melting ever so slightly.

“Come here, buddy,” he said, hoisting Leo onto his lap beside Madeline. The two children giggled, and for a second, the tension in the room dissipated, replaced by the soft, innocent sounds of their laughter. Barry, who had been watching the exchange with an awkward silence, finally spoke up, trying to lighten the mood. “Look at you, Rafe. Mr. Family Man,” he teased, though even he seemed cautious, sensing the fragility of the moment.

Rafe rolled his eyes, though a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. You watched the scene unfold in front of you—Rafe, sitting there with both kids on his lap, the hard edge in his voice softening as he spoke to them. It was moments like this, fleeting as they were, that reminded you there was still something beneath the cold exterior. Something worth holding onto, even if it was buried deep.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” you finally said, tickling Madeline's tummy and kissing Leo's forehead before you move towards the door. Rafe didn’t look up, his focus now entirely on the kids, but you could feel his silent acknowledgment. It wasn’t exactly an affectionate goodbye, but it was enough. As you reached for the doorknob, you heard Rafe speak again, his voice quieter this time.

“Don’t be late,” he said, though there was less command in his tone now—more a request than a demand. You nodded, glancing back at the three of them. Leo was giggling as Rafe whispered something in his ear, and Madeline was now nestled comfortably against her father’s chest. For a moment, you allowed yourself to feel a flicker of warmth, a brief glimpse of what could have been if things were different between you and Rafe.

[writingoddess1125]

The old men of One Piece finding out they have a child with you. Pt. 2

Due to popular demand I have a part two for you guys!

Shanks, Buggy, Mihawk xFemreader

Healthy Mix of Angst and Fluff

Support me on Ko-Fi

Part 1 <- -> Part 3

Buggy

The crew was quick to follow orders, Cabaji grabbing you as others grabbed your sons. Dragging you from the restaurant you called a home and out onto the streets, screamed fill the air as the village was being ripped apart. Your boys crying out in fear as the crew harshly brought you onto the ship you once were apart of.

You yelped as you were thrown into Buggy's room. Your boys being tossed in as well, you quickly grabbed Dee and Bee and brought them to your chest. Running your hands through their hair as they sobbed against you, shaking like a leaf and terrified.

"Ssshh it's okay my loves it's okay" you whisper trying to soothe them, holding them tightly to try and ward away the bad dream. After a few hours they finally fell asleep, You carefully rolling up and placing them on Buggy's large bed. It wouldn't be best to let them sleep in your arms since they were fairly large and when asleep could kick and roll. You couldn't risk injury if you were going to escape with the twins.

You tucked them into the big stripped bed and sighed- Surrounded by more of this circus shit made them look way more like Buggy then you cared to admit. Smoothing Dee and Bee wild blue locks with your hand you sighed heavily. Trying to come up with a plan to escape- but the plotting was short lived as the bedroom door opened.

Buggy stared at you and then glanced at the boys as they slept soundly in his bed. He was holding a large tray and set it down on the side table, meeting your eyes as he picked up a fork and took a bite from each both and even a bite of the bread, before taking a seat clearly wanting to show it was safe to eat and feed the children. You looked at the food it was 3 healthy servings of pasta with fresh bread and 3 drinks, 2 milks and a ale. You looked at him in question but you didn't dare voice anything. Instead gently shaking the twins awake-

"Eh? Mom?..." Dee mumbled as he rubbed his sleepy eyes. "Dinner is here" You say calmly, holding a bowl out to Dee who gently took it in his tiny hands before waking up Bee with a bit more force and doing the same. Splitting the bread in half and giving each half to your sons to make sure they had full bellies.

You ate your own food, Watching as the twins hungrily ate there like they hadn't had a meal before, havjng to make sure they didnt mess up the nice bed. However you kept glancing back at Buggy, feeling his eyes on you.

He sat across the room stull, watching you closely as you wiped their faces clean with your dress and handing them their drinks and even taking your own ale and sipping it. You saw Bee wat hibg Buggy closely, the two staring at each other silently.

"What are you looking at Old Man?-" Bee snapped as he glared at Buggy. You snapping your finger quickly at him.

"Attitude-" You hissed in warning. However heard a shuffle to see Buggy snorting a laugh and turning away to giggle-

"Damn these really are my Kids- I was at least 90% sure before but now it's 100%!" He laughed, actually Wiping the tears from his face.

"Mom what is he talking about?" Dee questioned first, raising a brow at the Clown in their room.

"Yeah and whats with hi-" You smacked your hand over your sons mouth. Knowing that the following question would lead to a fight you didn't have the strength for.

"Boys this is your father... Buggy the Clown. He's a Pirate Captian"

"Our Dads a clown-" Bee deadpanned as his face looked at you in what can only be described as confused horror. You sighing mentally by this, as Dee stared at Buggy suspiciously.

"How do we know?-" Dee started, But Buggy pulled the hat from his head and bandana to show his blue locks that were identical to their.

"Our Dads a Clown!?" Bee said again this time

"I'm a porate clown-" Buggy shot back as he frowned at the boy. The two locking in gaze of equal stubbornness and attitude.

Dee started to say"Is that why you took us?" But was cut off gloriously by Bee"If you're our dad then you suck! Why did you grab mom by her hair and make her cry!" He proclaimed, Jumping up on the bed and pointing to Buggy angrily. You urging the boy to sit down, But Buggy's gaze softened.

"I apologize- I didn't see it was her or else I would have never raided you town. Instead just picked you three up to take with me" He admitted calmly. The seemed to take the wind from Bee's sails as he sat back down- You also surprised to hear Buggy apologize or be so vulnerable.

"I want to have you three here with me and be apart of my children's life" Buggy started as he stared at you- You started to protest but he held up a hand.

"60 Days, that's all I ask. If in 60 days you don't want me in their lives I'll drop you and the boys off at a Marine Base with some berry. Enough to be comforble for the rest of your lives"

It was a good deal- a damn good deal. It's not like you had a berry to your name or a place to return to. That and he genuinely seemed interested in the boys, you gave a defeated sigh.

"Alright... 60 days- then we will talk from there" Buggy smiled at hearing you agreeing to this. Excitement shining in his eyes as he jumped up from his seat.

"Perfect! You all rest here. I'll leave and bring some supplies for you all" Buggy said calmly as he stood up and quickly left, a grin plastered on his face as he left you.

You should have known that Buggy was planning something. For the next 3 days it was like he turned the ship into a child's dream. There was suddently a absurd about of toys, sweets, every game imaginable too seemed to have suddently appeared. Buggy all to happy to shower the twins in anything they asked for, played any game they wanted.

You inwardly sighed as you watched the twins start to warm up to Buggy, More like clinging to him. Bee seemingly the most interested in him while Dee seemed to just love sailing. Having to be coaxed down from the crows nest were he would hide all day. At the mess hall however is were they fit in the best- It was like Buggy had cloned himself the two perfect best friends, aka himself.

Dee had taken to keeping his hair up due to his time in the crows nest and also had become more confident- pushing his brother back whenever he messed with him a bit too much- As for Bee it was like Buggy 2.0- Loud, flashy and ready to find trouble. It had been only 3 days but so much had changed, Currently it being evening dinner time.

Sitting next to Buggy in the mess hall, who had made it a habit of keeping you close you glared as your son then Buggy who was just laugjing "Benny (Y/L/N) get your monkey ass here right now!" You yelled as you saw your son running down the tables of the mess hall. Singing a made of sea shanty that the rest of the freaks were actually drinking and singing along to.

"Let the boy have some fun (Y/N)! It's not like he's hurting anyone- Besides what's the worse that can happen! Stop with the snooty attitude" Buggy proclaimed with a laugh, you saw Dee get a mischievous look in his eye before slipping under the table. You give a sarcastic smile, knowing your twins all too well.

"Fine then, I won't be snooty for the next hour whatever they damage you gotta clean" You proposes with a smile. He laughed and nodded.

"Deal! Finally now we can have some fu-"

And like a symphony of madness all hell broke lose. Dee had popped put from under the table and grabbed Bee's foot nid step. The singing child falling into a massive bowl of mashed potatos which managed to spray everywhere- coating all the people at the table in potatos and the floor which made a few Crewmates who had been walking slip and slam into tables flinging more food and creating more mess paired with a hunk of cake landing right in Buggy's face. Wiping the frosting as he watched the two boys make a run from the mess hall cackling like two Imps.

"Boys!!" He yelled, trying to wipe more of the pink frosting from his face. You smiled and handed him a napkin.

"Have fun Captian!~" You said with a grin and patted his shoulder as Buggy sat there red faced and glaring at you half heartedly. As if taking your cue, you got up and left. Giggling as you hear Buggy snap at some crewmates to grab something to help clean the mess.

Deciding to take the time for yourself you went to the main deck. Leaning against the rails as you watched the dark waves of the ocean and the setting sun. You couldn't lie and say you didn't miss the ocean, or the time to yourself. You stood there watching as the sun set and plunged the ship into darkness, the lanterns of the ship turning on as well as the ship seemed to be sailing in darkness.

"Enjoying your free time?" A deep voice snapped you from your thoughts. Seeing Buggy walking towards you, his face washed of makeup and hair in a ponytail. Having clearly just bathed after getting the mess hall cleaned.

"Yeah, I forgot how nice it is being on this ship.. How are the boys?" Buggy smiled at hearing you enjoying yourself before shrugging.

"Got them washed up and put them to bed.....They seem to like me" He boated, seemingly proud he had formed such a strong bond.

"That they do" You reply. Watching as he put his hands in his pockets a bit awkwardly, that tough Captian Facade crumbling a bit under his own anxiety.

"(Y/N) Why did you leave?... Was it me? Were you ashamed of me or-" He started, the back of his hand brushing against his nose as the enxiety slammed into his chest.

"What?.. No that's not why I left Buggy- I was scared. How the hell was I suppose to go through pregnancy on a ship? Hell the labor?! That was 36 hours to give birth to both of them!" Buggy winced at the thought, you leaned against the railing and stared at him.

"It was the fact that I couldn't predict how you would react and no idea how to raise a baby here. So in a village with at least some stability seemed like the best option- Even if it ment having to do it alone"

You admit, Buggy messing with his gloved hands. Sadness bleeding through his gaze as he sighed.

"I suppose- I can see your point... but I would have put everything on hold if I knew-" Buggy admitted, before rubbing the back of his head a bit hesitantly.

"You know- We only got 60 days and I've been wanting to take a vacation. Drop off the crew maybe for a bit and I know this really nice island" Buggy said casually. Your eyebrows raising at hearing this- He wanted to stop pirating just for you and the twins?

"What?-" You started but he cut you off quickly. "I mean it would only be a little bit of course- unless something urged me to stay a bit longer. However I think being on the open ocean can be damaging for super long term- I mean the meals can cause scurvy and who knows what else" He quickly justified, even at this distance you could see his ears turning red. You couldn't help but giggle at this, which caught his attention quickly.

"I'd like that Buggy.. But I don't want to take you away from what you love" you say, Watching Buggy take a hesitant step towards you.

"Who knows... 60 days can quickly turn into eternity.. if you want it to.. and i lost what i loved once- Ill never let that happen again" He said locking eyes with you which made you smile brighter.

Shanks

It had been 3 weeks since Shanks arrived- and it had been one journey, The man clearly loved to be a father. Willing to do anything for Vivian, her having the powerful pirate wrapped around her little finger and not even knowing it.

Shanks having let his crew take the time for essentially a vacation on his dime while ge stayed in your guestroom. Excited every morning to wake up and play with his daughter. He bought her so many toys, a chest full of pretty dresses, a giant stuffed monkey and a play wood sword since she had been so interest in his.

She had even taken to tying her favorite green ribbon on his sword since "It looks pretty" and he didn't have the will power to take it off. So for the most part, it had been complete and total bliss.

It was early morning when you heard some loud Noises coming from the kitchen area of your home- Getting up from bed and put on your robe and walked to see what all the noise was.

You stood in the kitchen with a raised eyebrow, the only word fitting this situation was- Hilarious. There sat Shanks, sat on the floor with his back leanes against the oven holding a old muffin. His eyes were covered in a thick layer of green glittery eyeshadow (from your makeup bag) hot red lipstick that was sneered on other parts of his face. Some bows randomly scattered in his red hair. His coat that usually covered his missing arm dropped over your daughter who was still in her baby blue tight gown and she was dragging behind her as she adding things to the spread on the floor. A bag of sugar, some water, a scattering of teabags and whatever had been in the fridge- including half eaten sandwiches and cupcakes which Shanks was currently chewing on.

"Starlight, I don't think there is anyway you can make the wate- I mean tea any sweeter" He said calmly, Watching Vi try to pour more sugar into her little China set with her chubby hands. Shanks cringing a bit at this as she poured him a cup and handed it to him.

"See! Now it's perfect!" She chimed and giggled loudly. He gave a smile as he set aside his muffin and sipped the tea, trying to suppress the cringe from the unholy amount of sugar that was mixed with water and a hint of a poor teabag.

"It's delicious Baby Girl- Fantastic" He choked out, working through a smile as he forced himself to take another sip. You couldn't help bit to laugh, which brought the attention of both Red Heads.

"Mommy!" Vivian chimed loudly running towards you still wearing Shank's cloak and you scooped her up carefully.

"I must say Shanks, you look fabulous" You said with a smile. Shanks Grinning up at you as he sat on the floor.

"I always thought I'd look good in green" He said, Gesturing to the sloppy eyeshadow. Rolling himself up to his feet as he smiled down at you.

"By the way are you ready for today?" You raised a brow-

"Oh boy what do you have planned?" Shanks only gave a wide smile before grabbing a box from the kitchen table and holding up a lovely yellow sundress for you and a similar one for Vivian.

"Fun day out!"

Shanks hadnt beem kidding about a fun day, staring with a lovely resturant on the island, sailing, having in a meadow and then time out at the park the sun started to set. Shanks held Vivian who was passed out against him, walking back to your home. The two of you talking about the time you two where together in the past.

"Thank you (Y/N).." He said softly, Smiling as he watched the sun set and the two of you walked up hill.

"For what?" He smiled brightly at you "Making me the happiest man in the world" You couldn't help but blush at hearing this. Looking away bashfully as you came up to your home, Seeing a man standing there a bit awkwardly.

"Yasopp! Glad you stopped by, This is (Y/N) and my darling daughter Vivian. She's asleep right now but I'm sure she'd love to meet ya"

Shank smiled brightly at seeing his fellow crewmate. However the look on Yasopp face said otherwise.

"Its lovely to meet you (Y/N)... but Captian- we have to talk.." He said softly, Shanks frowning at the tone he gave before gently passing Vivian to you.

"I'll be in a sec" He said, nodding you quickly head inside to get Vivian ready for bed. Yasopp and him talked outside, Shanks looked angry. Staring at the letter and running his hand through his hair clearly stressed. You finished cleaning Vivians face and got her in her PJs, tuckering her in for the night. In the hallway you could hear the should of bottles shifting, turning to see Shanks in the kitchen grabbing the bottle of whiskey you kept on the top shelf- his face twisted in anger as he plopped on the couch.

"You have to leave.. don't you-" You finally blurted out, watching him open the bottle with his teeth and take a sip. His eyes shiny with unshed tears, he nodded soberly as he took a hard swig of the drink.

"Shanks you can't finally meet her and just leave her life-" You stressed, anger bubbling in your chest as you stared at him. He sat slunched in the chair a swirling of different emotions in his eyes.

"They need my help.. and I can't risk it (Y/N).... I can't risk them finding out about you and Vi... they would kill you both" He whispered, shock slamming into you. Your eyes drifting to Vivian's room were she laid sleeping.

"...How long will you be gone" You whispered finally, sitting down on your sofa sadly.

"I don't know..." He whispered, defeat written on his face. Holding the bottle out to you, which you took and started to sip before passing it back.

"When do you leave?" Shanks took another heavy swig of the drink and held it out to you. "Tomorrow morning..." You nod at this- Taking another sip of the whiskey.

"...I-Is she going to hate me?" Shanks whispered, Looking up at were he knew Vi was. You shook your head "She doesn't have it in her heart to hate.." You said softly. He nodded at this and messed with the ribbon she tied on his sword, staring at it hard.

"I love her (Y/N).... so much it hurts.." His voice cracked. But he instead stood up, taking a heavy breath.

"I'm going to get some sleep... you should as well" He said softly, Turning and walking back to the guest room. Leaving you alone with the whiskey bottle, as you put it back in its rightful place. You could have sworn you heard hushed sobs... but left them be and went to cry in your own bed as well.

In the morning, the nice breakfast was made. Shanks feeding Vivian her oatmeal and letting her talk his ear off, you knew he needed this moment. Needed to have this with her. Once breakfast was finishes the three of you started the walk to the docks, Vivian holding Shanks hand as they talked about the pretty ocean.

Walking to the docks he saw the ship being loaded up, Vivian staring in awe at the massive vessel and giggled at the sight of all the men who stared at her and gave friendly waves. Shanks taking a deep breath to look at you both. Hurt shining in his eyes as he swallowed a hard lump in his throat. Kneeling down he looked at Vivian, his hand cupping her chubby cheek as he took a shaky breath holding back tears clearly. "Princess, I've got to go for a while.."

"But why?... you just got here?"

"I know baby girl- But, see there is this trouble maker- His name is Luffy. Think of him as your big brother, he needs my help.. And I don't want to put you and your Mommy in danger while I go get him. So I have to leave-"

He said, Biting his bottom lip for a second as he let a few tears roll down his cheek. Reaching into his pocket and pulling out a solid gold coin- it was quite large and he carefully handed it to Vivian. Her little fingers holding the big coin and touching the detailed design thay decorated it, his Jolly Roger.

"But I promise I'll be back.. but until I do- you have to keep this with you. It's special, it will protect you from Pirates- And when I come back, and I promise I will. I'll trade you that coin for your ribbon back okay?"

He said softly, watching Vivian smile up at him at the promise.

"Okay Daddy.." She said softly before jumping and hugging around his neck. He held her tightly, wrapping his arm around her as if he didn't want to let go.

"Captian-" Yassop said softly, Shanks nodding and carefully standing up. Handing Vivian to you a bit reluctantly, Vivian own eyes starting to water. You held her close as tears rolled down your own cheeks. Shanks leaning in and kissing the tears on your face and one gingerly on your lips.

"I'll see you two again, I swear" He said softly, Stepping back as he followed after his crew. The crew somber like their Captian as he boarded, yelling out commands to set sail. Looking back as the ship began to leave the harbor, Waving at the two of you. Vivian waving back gently as tears rolled down her chubby cheeks clutching the coin close to her chest.

You and Vivian standing on the docks as you watched the ship sail and disapear over the horizon. You sniffles and wiped your eyes of the tears you didn't know had still been running down your cheeks.

Your daughter looking at you and wiping your tears, giving you a smile just like Shanks "Don't worry Mommy.. Daddy said he'd be back"

Mihawk

You stood in your tiny kitchen, rubbing your temple as the days situation settled on your bones. Your son standing next to you chopping vegetables silently, Clearly ignoring the elephant in the room.

"Alucare- Do you want to-"

"No" He cut you off quickly, quickly cutting down on a carrot like it had wronged him. You sighed at this setting the kettle on the stove to start a pot of tea. Knowing damn well what was coming- right on cue there was a knock to the door.

Turning you went to let in the Warlord, he looked like a kicked puppy. Awkwardly standing there at your door with his hat removed, his eyes glancing up at you hesitantly.

"(Y/N)..." He said softly, surprising you that he had even remembered your name. He stepped to the side, inviting him into your home and guiding him to your dining room were he took a seat at the kitchen table.

You took a seat as well, Alucare not turning from preparing the vegetables. A awkward silence following the trio as there was only the sound of chopping.

"Mihawk.. It's been a while" You finally speak, the Warlord nodding in agreement. Silence falling over you two again.

"Oh for God's sake. Alucare sit down please, we are going to get this out" You said, Hearing the shuffle of your son moving from his spot and sitting next to you. You couldn't help but stare in awe- The two sitting across from each other made it seem like they were looking at some odd mirror, they looked almost identical except for the age and minor changes.

"Mihawk this is Alucare, your son. As we can clearly can see. Alucare this is your father Dracule Mihawk"

You introduce, swallowing thickly as the two continued to stare at each other. Silence falling again over you all, Mihawk sighed and rubbed his temple. Turning his eyes away from this odd sort of staring contest.

"Alucare.. That's a good name.. How old are you?" Mihawk asked, staring at his child for a moment before Alucare looked away.

"I'm 16..." He said softly, Mihawk nodding at this before his eyes landed on you.

"How come you didn't tell me- I would have been here, helped you. I have a home and more" He asked, his eyebrows betraying him in pure confusion and he frowned. You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck.

"I was scared- How would it look like if some random person claimed to have some famed Warlords child.." You mumbled, still embarrassed by the whole ordeal. "Besides it wasn't even until after are alleyway escapades that I understood who you were-"

"I see..." Mihawk sighed as he stared at Alucare again, who seemed to grow a bit uncomforble at the direction of this conversation.

"Alucare do you wish to ask something of your father?-" You encouraged. Wanting to create a olive branch between the two.

"What is there me to ask? It's not like it's a secret that we are related or his reputation. The only thing I would wonder is how you found out about us-" Alucare said a bit dismissively, you felt genuine surprise at this. He had never shown anyone disrespect before until now-

"There were rumors of you that traveled to a Marine Base I was at- how a child looked like the famed Mihawk... eyes and all" Mihawk clarified. Alucare only rolling his matching yellow eyes at this, standing up from his seat.

"I'll be dismissing myself. Thanks for the talk" He said calmly, walking out the back door and slamming it shut behind him. You sighed and looked to Mihawk

"Hes normally not like that, I don't know what to say" You admit. But the Warlord just stood up with a understanding nod.

"Hes angry... that I understood.. I'll return" He said before following out the back door as well.

Standing by the grove of trees next to the house Alucare let the cool blade of the knives brush over his fingers, sighing as he quickly released the blade at lightning speed at the carved target on the old tree hitting bulls eye. Alucare walking to retrieve the lone blade and repeat the process.

"Impressive shot-" The deep voice only belonging to Mihawk sounded behind the teen. Alucare glancing back at the man as he resumed his position and went back to throwing his blade.

"Thanks I suppose-" Alucare mumbled as he continued to task. Mihawk sighing softly as he glanced at the sky.

"What is the true reason you resent me- One that you don't wish to express with your mother around" He finally asked, staring at the sky. Alucare faltering in his movements for a moment, keeping the blade in his hands for a moment.

"If you had been anyone else she wouldn't have had to suffer so much-" He admitted, his eyes showing a deep sadness as he sighed "I saw the way they looked at her, despite her smiling and ignoring it.. how she acted as a human shield for me. Because we share blood- How she would sit on the bed after working day and night to put that home over our head... how tired she was and then emotionally carying the brunt of people looking at her in either pity, fear otlr disgust for my sake"

He admitted, throwing the blade once again watching the blade stick deeply into the tree the handle being the only thing that showed. Mihawk quietly listened and clenched his hands.

"I understand... if I had known I would have protected her... I would have protected you- Nothing I can say can make up for 16 years of hardship... but I do apologize" Mihawk said, bowing his head gently.

Alucare looked at him silently for a moment. Looking away for a moment and went to grab the blade.

"...How do you sharpen a blade-" Alucare asked, In his own way accepting Mihawk apology and extending a form of communication. Mihawk gave a hint of a smile on his lips as he stepped forward.

"I can show you-"

Tag List-

For all the people who requested Pt. 2

@lunanight1021 @lolavegas20 @cuteastrash @thatcharmingmushroom @marsilis @thesadvampire @amecchii @zaphira-san @matronofthevoid @mothmans-left-nipple

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Baki Head Canons:

My Kind Of Love

Yandere Hanayama Kaoru x Fem Reader

TW: arranged marriage/ forced relationship, yandere, stalking, etc

You were the adopted daughter of another yakuza family, one that was engaged to Hanayama Kaoru since birth. Your fate long decided for you…

Hanayama wasn’t a bad person per se, for the son of a yakuza family. The only issue was that he hardly spoke. Nope. Hanayama often stared at you while you did all of the talking… he was a silent yet intimidating presence. Especially as the two of you grew older.

As a child, he’d often sit beside you. You used to think he was shy, so you’d talk with him in a soft tone. You were gregarious compared to his taciturn self. Yet you never made him feel unwelcome so he would always turn up for every ‘play date’ your parents set up. It made you think he tolerated you… how wrong you were.

When he grew old enough to get his back tattoo, he had spoken to you briefly. “I have something important to do, but I will be back.” You had thought that was odd, but you smiled at your fiancé. “Okay, Hanayama. I’ll be waiting for you then so be safe.” You thought it was kind of cute how his ears turned pink… who knew he could blush.

When you saw him again, you were shocked by all of the scars that littered his body, yet you didn’t nag him. No, you simply held him and smiled at him. “Thank you for keeping your word.” You failed to notice how his heart hammered in his chest when your fingers lightly traced over the scabs on his face. “Those will be some pretty gnarly scars, but they’ll make you look cool.” You had no idea what you did to this man…

When his mother’s health began to deteriorate, he had you at his side. He was such a large teenager, yet he looked so small when he’d fold himself up into your lap. You often ran your fingers through his dark locks and softly reassured him. He still hardly spoke, but you finally caught him with a small smile on his face.

When his mother passed, he was prone to bursts of anger yet he never showed that side of himself to you. No. You were precious to him… more precious than anything in the world. And you deserved to be protected and pampered. He began to seek advice from Kizaki about romance after that.

Now that the two of you were in your twenties, he’d often pull you into his lap. He still hardly spoke but he would make you be near him in anyway possible if the two of you were alone. It was quite odd.

Sometimes you’d swear you would spot his men trailing behind you if you were out and about, yet they were gone when you’d turn around. There was no way your stoic fiancé was stalking you… right?

He’d gift you bouquets of roses and invite you out to dinner with outfits he’d pick out. You would receive handwritten notes of love that borderlines obsession. There was no way Hanayama wrote those, you didn’t even know if he actually liked you. Hanayama hardly spoke after all…

His stabs at romance were interesting to say the least. Hanayama’s actions were loud. His gifts were extravagant and borderline gaudy, yet you didn’t mind. You were engaged after all. And that wedding date was rabidly approaching…

The wedding was grand, large, and heavily guarded. And Hanayama’s hand tightly gripped yours in an inescapable hold. It was nerve wracking to say the least.

And the minute it was time for that honeymoon, you were rushed off quickly. Hanayama practically dragged you to the suite, his breathing ragged, his scarred face flushed, and his black hair a bit disheveled. Was he okay? You’ve never seen him so expressive.

It wasn’t until he had you all alone that he began to rip at his clothes like a madman. You barely had the first button undone before he was on you. His fundoshi the last garment on him. His lips eagerly pressed against the side of your neck.

“Hanayama? We really don’t have to-“ your voice was stuck in your throat when he pulled away to stare at you with his dark eyes.

“I’ve waited so many years to hold you like a man.” Hanayama muttered. “I’ve held back for so long and now you’re finally mine.”

You’re peppered with more impatient kisses while his thick fingers made quick work of your wedding dress. “I love you so much, my beautiful wife.”

How were you to know that your fiancé actually loved you this entire time? Not to mention, how sore his kind of love would leave you after tonight…

[scarlet--wiccan]

Agatha All Along, the highly anticipated follow-up to WandaVision, begins airing this week on Disney+. Now is the perfect to revisit some important information about both shows and the context in which some of Agatha's new characters are being introduced.

WandaVision primarily followed the character Wanda Maximoff and expanded on her family history by introducing her late parents as well her twin sons, who are born from magic and age rapidly over the course of the series.

In the Marvel comics source material, Wanda is part of a large, multigenerational family of Jewish and Romani characters whose stories frequently reflect the systemic violence and oppression that both communities face-- including Romani Holocaust victims, who are critically underrepresented in both education and media. In the MCU, these identities and histories are completely erased, and the characters are all played by white actors. Alternate versions of these characters also appear in the Fox X-Men films, and are similarly whitewashed.

The Romani people are a racialized minority that originated as a South Asian diaspora, and who face severe systemic oppression in Europe and North America. The modern Romani population is quite diverse, but they are not of white ethnic origin, and despite the fact that Wanda and her family have historically been drawn with white features, they are minority characters and ought to be considered as such.

Depictions of witches and witchcraft are often entwined with antisemitism and anti-Romani racism. In pop culture, witches and fortunetellers are typically portrayed as visual stereotypes of Romani women. In the real world, fortunetelling is a profession born from survival work, one which Romani families are often heavily policed and racially profiled for practicing. While Wanda usually subverts these tropes, they are often played straight elsewhere in the superhero genre, and any story about witches, especially one featuring Romani characters, needs to be critiqued in this context.

Agatha All Along introduces viewers to a new cast of characters, including Lilia Calderu, played by Patti LuPone, and the enigmatic "Teen", played by Joe Locke, who is heavily speculated to be an incarnation of Wanda's son, Billy.

In the comics, Lilia is a member of a prominent Romani family in Wanda's community. Often lauded as the "witch queen of the gypsies," Lilia embodies many racial stereotypes about Romani women. In Agatha All Along, Lilia is depicted as an older Sicilian woman, however, being portrayed as a batty fortuneteller with a tawdry psychic shop, she still embodies an offensive trope. Although Lilia is far from "good" representation, this is not an improvement-- if anything, it's even more exploitative.

Billy was raised in a Jewish American household and places a very strong emphasis on his Jewish identity, in addition to having Romani heritage. His identity as a young gay man is always presented in conjunction with this heritage, not in spite of it. Though there is a significance to Locke being a gay actor playing a gay character, his casting-- if he is indeed playing Billy-- is not authentic. White gay representation should not supersede racial inclusivity, and it is not an excuse for whitewashing or Jewish erasure.

Marvel Studios recently announced that the character Doctor Doom will be played by Robert Downey Jr., who is returning to the franchise after many years in the role of Iron Man. In the source material, Doom is also a Romani character with a very similar background to Wanda's. This identity is central to Doom's character-- although he is written to be both morally and politically challenging, the liberation of his people has always been a primary motive.

Clearly, this type of whitewashing is an ongoing pattern in the MCU franchise. Although "Teen's" identity is still unconfirmed and Lilia may, ultimately, be of little consequence, they are part of a larger problem, and Agatha All Along needs to critiqued in that context.

[k-hotchoisan]

hello dearest 🥰

hard hours are open? so are my legs for this:

thoughts on writing a full story?

love you and your work, have a blessed new years ❤️

7 minutes of compensation

<seonghwa x fem!reader x yunho>

Coming back upset and disappointed at how your date turned out, Seonghwa and Yunho decide on a way to compensate you, in their own pretty little way.

Rating: R - explicit

Genres/Warnings: pwp, smut, 3some, oral (f receiving), riding, orgasms, fratboys!ateez, pet names, unprotected sex, face fucking, cream pies, dacryphilia, fingering, reader is a brat and it's deserved, pussy slapping (only once)

Word count: 3.6K

a/n: super late on this one, but this prompt was perfect for @atzhouse frat boys event <3 enjoy and indulge heavily 🩷 also thank you to my lovely @bro-atz for helping me develop the plot i could kiss u to death!!

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @jeon-ify

You were gonna fucking kill them. The both of them. As much as you adored them as your roommates, you swear they fucking sucked at matchmaking, or either that, their fraternity has men that are less than subpar. 

Unfortunately for Yunho, he happened to be in the line of fire, and he got the heat first—meeting your cold gaze, then your sharp eye rolls which truthfully, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him until you blocked his path, arms folded tightly across your chest, your bottom lip sucked in from sheer annoyance, and even though Yunho pretty much towered over you, for once, you don’t feel small. 

“Is it a thing in your little groupie that none of y’all can even reach the bare minimum of being a man?” You spit, narrowing your eyes, tilting your head. 

Yunho scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. “I’m not following, y/n”, he replies. Even though you know he’s being honest, unfortunately, he’s still part of the stupid fraternity, and technically he seconded introducing this poor excuse of a male to you.

“Where’s Park Seonghwa? Is he hiding from me because he fucking knew that son of a bitch was a sorry excuse of a man?” You grunt, attempting to push past Yunho, who quickly grabs you by the shoulders before you actually start acting on impulse and causing some property damage. It works. Barely.

“Hey, hey. Y/n, you need to tell me what happened before you decide to burn our dorm to the ground,” Yunho says, trying to meet your glacial eyes. God, Yuhno is so fucking lucky that he has a personality of a cotton ball because that’s what he could turn you into in an instant just with his gentle voice and soft demeanor. You kind of knew it wasn’t really his fault that the male he and Seonghwa introduced ended up being completely a piece of shit, but still. 

No. You weren’t about to falter at Yunho’s warm gaze and the way he’s leaning into you, his hands firm on your shoulders. Deep inside, you knew Yunho was the last person to be unreasonable. 

Your hard stare is slowly softening and the hostility is slowly dissolving much to your dismay, but you still hold your pout, now turning more cranky than mad.

You decide taking a deep breath to start your complaint would be the right way about it, especially since it helped with hiding your tears that were just threatening to fall. 

At that moment, Seonghwa emerges from his room, having heard the commotion from the common space, his face as clueless as Yunho’s. Yunho turns away from you, the grip on your shoulders lightening as he stands up straight to look at the older male. 

Seonghwa’s stare blank as he shuts his door, “I heard my name. What’s going on?”

Now there the three of you were—on your bed, Seonghwa on your left, Yunho on your right, the both of them exchanging glances at each other, not wanting to break the silence or you’d end up breaking their necks. Your arms are still crossed, and your expression now a pout rather than some intention to commit murder within the dorm. You made them sit with each other in complete silence while you decided to take a shower to hopefully wash off the vexation, obviously to no avail. At least you smelled nice.

“The guy the both of you introduced”, you huff another deep breath, “not only fucking sucked in bed but tell me why none of you told me he was fucking someone else?” 

Another exchange of glances, this time with panic and confusion swirling in their eyes. You stand up and face them, your hands on your hips.

“We swear we didn’t know”, Seonghwa is the first to respond, his hands raised defensively. “He said he was interested in you, and we just…”

“Linked the both of you up, since you offhandedly mentioned that he was pretty cute”, Yunho continues. 

You smile, which doesn’t reach your eyes on top of dripping with anything but kindness or satisfaction, well, given the complete fuckery your stupid date put you through. You lean forward, stroking Seonghwa’s jaw, and for a moment, he seems entranced by your gaze, growing slightly breathless for a split second.

“Did you know who he was fucking?” You ask, and it comes off as a rhetorical pop quiz question, which both Seonghwa and Yunho knew better than even trying to guess, lest you have their heads in your arms by the time this is over. 

Seonghwa’s tongue slips out, wetting his plump lips out of nervousness. Sometimes you think Seonghwa looks absolutely delectable when he stares up at you with his doe eyes. You watch him shake his head. 

Then you let go of the poor man, leaving him to catch his breath on top of having the smell of your body soap almost shutting the rest of his senses down.

“His ex-girlfriend”, you spit, accompanied by a roll of your eyes. Both males had expressions that were equivalent to being a deer in headlights, which slightly cushioned your hostility because it seemed that they genuinely didn’t know about this. 

“I’m sorry to hear about that”, Yunho says, and there’s a glint of guilt in his eyes you barely catch. His hands reach out to yours, hoping to appease your anger slightly, and Seonghwa mirrors his reaction.

“Y/n, I’ll make sure he never contacts you ever, alright?” Seonghwa follows, his fingers gently stroking yours, making a mental note to bash his fraternity mate into the wall when he has the chance to. “Yunho and I will make sure of that.”

“I can’t believe he fucking fumbled a chance like that”, Yunho mutters. 

You remove your hands from the two males, crawling towards the headboard, letting your head rest on the endless amount of pillows, both Seonghwa and Yunho trailing you with their eyes, watching the way your shorts were riding dangerously up your thighs. 

“I want compensation, from the both of you”, you remark, your eyes darting to your phone screen, gradually getting distracted as your anger slowly dissipates. “On top of him being a piece of shit, he fucks like a loser. You have guys like that in your fraternity to represent how y’all fuck or what?” 

It takes less than a millisecond for Seonghwa’s gaze to darken, which you don’t notice until your phone gets snatched from your hands. You are about to part your lips to complain, that is, until you see the poison dripping from Seonghwa’s gaze. Before you can register it, a pair of arms lift you from below, and you’re facing Seonghwa, while being seated on Yunho’s lap. Yunho’s arms are wrapped around you, and you realise you’re trapped. 

“No, Angel. We don’t fuck like that piece of shit does”, Seonghwa corrects you, his voice calm and almost angelic, if it wasn’t for the fact that his tone is tinted with anything but. 

“We fuck better.”

“You shouldn’t lump us with guys like him, that hurts our feelings y’know”, Yunho chimes behind you, his voice tickling your ear. 

Seonghwa’s lips are inches away from yours, “Believe me, we’ll compensate you fully.”

You feel your heart hammering in your chest, the tension in the air climbing up in levels at a rapid pace. Seonghwa doesn’t intend to give you the time to form your thoughts before his lips are on yours, gentle yet greedy, growing more possessive by the second, and you let yourself melt into his lips, his touch, his seduction. 

Soft moans escape your lips the more Seonghwa lets his tongue swipe yours and your lips. Fuck. Yunho’s fingers snake underneath your shirt, sending goosebumps all over your abdomen until he reaches your tits, and his fingers begin to roll your nipples against his fingertips as he alternates between squeezing your full tits, enjoying the whimpers you’re voicing while Seonghwa makes a mess out of your lips. Your mind is slowly slipping, and the next thing you’re feeling is the way your panties are getting soaked by the second. 

Seonghwa pulls back, licking away the string of saliva connecting both of your lips, watching your lips swollen and your face flush, with a smile on his face. 

Yunho’s hands leave your tits, and he brings up your shirt past your shoulders while Seonghwa pulls off your shorts, exposing the pretty wet patch on your panties. 

“Look at you, so pretty and wet for us”, Yunho hums, his hand reaching down past your panties, and you gasp at the feeling of his fingertips drawing circles on your wet clit. He does it so painfully slow and you swear he’s doing it on purpose. 

“Yunho-“, you mutter breathlessly, your hands grabbing his muscled arm. Seonghwa pulls your panties to the side, revealing your soaking pussy, just begging to be filled up. Yunho shifts his hands from underneath your panties to where Seonghwa had pulled them to the side.

They weren’t about to let you have your way, at least not yet. 

“Now, are you taking back what you said about us fucking like losers?” Seonghwa asks, guiding Yunho’s fingers going back to circling between your clit and your sopping hole. You swear you were about to lose your fucking mind. 

You stare at Seonghwa, eyes slowly getting glazed out the more Yunho’s fingertips grazed along your clit. 

“No.”

Yunho’s hand makes impact on your cunt, making you gasp, your eyes blowing open from the shock that climbed along your spine, the sound wet and loud. 

“Wrong answer, dollface”, Yunho hisses into your ear, barely giving you a second to catch your breath before his fingers plunge into your cunt, your head falling back against his shoulders, a broken curse slipping past your lips.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet. You’ve just been thinking of this, haven’t you?” Yunho curses, feeling your soft walls squeeze against his fingers whenever his fingers enter you on top of the pretty squelching sounds your pussy was making for him. 

Yunho presses against your g-spot, and you jolt slightly, your legs spreading wider on instinct accompanied by another moan, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the two males.

Yunho’s suddenly fingers pull out and you’re ready to protest from the denial, until you feel something harder and thicker pressing against your spine. Shit. 

Seonghwa unlocks your phone and taps on the timer app, filtering through numbers before he shifts the screen to your view.

“We’ll make you cum in seven minutes as compensation, Angel”, Seonghwa promises. He looks so confident too. “If we don’t, then you can do whatever you want with us.”

“But if we do, you’ll take back your words, and we’ll do whatever we want with you, with your consent of course”, Yunho adds. 

Truthfully, the deal was a matter of pride rather than anything else, and you being sandwiched by your hot roommates on top of it? Just the cherry on top. 

“Fine”, you agree, and Yunho, tips your chin to face him, lowering himself to press his lips on yours before passing you over to Seonghwa, who also seals the deal with a kiss. 

“That’s a good girl”, Seonghwa hums, pressing his thumb against the corner of your lips. “Yunho should fuck you, right? Since he was the first person who caught your heat.” 

“But he’s-“

“It’ll fit, dollface. I’ve seen the dildos you fuck yourself with. My dick will fit you just perfectly”, Yunho cuts you off, leaving your heart to slam against your chest. 

Yunho lifts you up as he positions you right about his thick cock before he lowers you down, completely splitting you open as his cock fills you up all the fucking way, leaving your thoughts and sanity somewhere else by now. 

“How are you feeling, Angel?” Seonghwa even has the courtesy to fucking ask.  Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, both from pleasure and pressure. 

“So fuckin’ full. Fuck”, you mutter, your mind in a complete haze as you attempt to adjust to Yunho’s size. Seonghwa swallows hard at the way your pussy is just stretching to fit Yunho in plain sight before he starts the timer. 

Then he lowers himself to your filled cunt, and licks up your clit, making you jerk.

Oh boy, these two are definitely about to drive you crazy.

Your head falls onto Yunho’s shoulders as you try to pace your breathing, but with Seonghwa at your cunt lapping your cream while Yunho has your pussy filled? It seemed like an impossible mission. 

As Yunho fits into you, dragging against your walls and pressing dangerously close to your g-spot, Seonghwa’s slow and wet licks against your clit only stimulated and soaked you more to widen up to further fit in Yunho—now a complete cycle of hell of Seonghwa eating your pussy out making Yunho’s cock sit deeper in you which in turn made your clit all the more sensitive towards Seonghwa eating your cunt out. You were sure you wouldn’t last long at this rate. 

A quick glance at the timer—two minutes had passed, and yet it felt like an eternity from how much stimulation you were getting. Soon enough, you were confident that time wouldn’t even exist as a whole. 

Your body shudders in pleasure once more when Seonghwa licks another stripe up your cunt, trying to hold your composure, only for it to be broken down when Seonghwa’s wet lips suck on your clit, your mind blanking out from the sensation. 

“Such a good fucking girl for us, y/n”, Yunho’s gentle voice barely registering in your head. He glances at the timer. “Four more minutes for us to break you. You know it’s okay to just let go and ruin your bedsheets right? We’ll wash them for you.” Jesus fucking Christ.

The numbers on the timer on your phone continue to descend agonisingly slow and the looming, ticklish feeling of an orgasm is just threatening to spill over at any moment. Your mind begins to drift off, shrouded in the mist of pleasure, with Yunho, low moans as the icing on the cake whenever he feels your walls squeeze around you, his praises sounding like a hymn. 

Seonghwa switches between his tongue and fingers, the only denominator is him making sure to send you off the edge, casting his gorgeous eyes upwards to meet yours, watching your reactions like a hawk. The cream around the base of Yunho’s cock grows thicker every time he pulls out from your stretched hole.

At the sixth minute, you realise you are a lost cause—Seonghwa licking and grazing his fingertips against your wet clit while Yunho has his cock balls deep in you, hitting deep fucking spots in your cunt. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck”, you cry out, your eyes screwed shut, barely processing Yunho’s kisses down your neck as he stuffs you full once more. Seonghwa pulls back, licking your cream off his lips before they pull into a smirk, then making sure he overstimulates and sends your whole body into an orbit with his fingers on your clit. Stars scatter and burst into your eyelids, you barely were able to keep them open when your cum spurts out of you, alongside your cries about feeling so fucking good while you screamed both of Yunho's and Seonghwa’s names, diluting the cum from Yunho who fills you up warm seconds after. 

Both men watch you unravel in complete awe and adoration. They should have done this sooner if they knew your cunt would be this fucking good.

“Six minutes and fifteen seconds”, Seonghwa brings up your phone with a smile. “You did fare pretty well, Angel.”

He lifts you off Yunho’s cock, his cum trickling past your trembling inner thighs, and Yunho groans from the sensitivity, giving his wet cock a couple of pumps. You were not in any position to complain, not when your body is barely recovering from your high, because you’re on your stomach, facing Yunho’s thick cock, your eyes rolling back once more when you feel Seonghwa’s cock stretching you open once more. Your face buried in the sheets, your fist digging into the fabric, your ass automatically lifting to accommodate Seonghwa.

“Fuck. You’re still so fucking tight, Angel. Were you waiting for me to fuck you next? You’re just begging for me to fuck Yunho’s cum out of you, aren’t you?”

You could only muster a weak whine of Seonghwa’s name before Yunho’s cock gently taps on your cheek. You look up at Yunho, your eyes completely glazed out, realising your mouth suddenly feeling very empty.

As Seonghwa slides his cock out of you, your phone suddenly lights up, the vibration catching both boys’ attention. Yunho glances over and cocks an eyebrow when he sees the caller ID flash across the screen. He looks over at Seonghwa who catches his eye, then nods to his older friend to pick up the call. Seonghwa reaches over, even as he’s still fucking his cock in you, and slides answer.

“Hey.”

“Hello? Seonghwa Hyung? Isn’t this y/n’s phone?”

Seonghwa glances down at you, ass still bouncing off his fat cock while taking Yunho’s cock in your mouth, your body twitching from time to time on top trying to fit Yunho in your mouth. 

“Y/n’s not available right now. She’s a little…preoccupied.”

There’s a pause for a moment. 

“O-oh. ‘Cause I was meaning to talk to her about the ex-girlfriend thing and-“

“H-Hwa”, you whimper, feeling your brain short-circuiting every time his hips snap against yours, feeling your brain up with nothing but just cock. Seonghwa returns your look with nothing less than affection before he bothers to focus back on his friend’s endless amount of excuses for acting like a piece of shit.

“You don’t need to anymore, dude.”

“What? Wait I don’t-“

Seonghwa smirks into the phone. “She’s not interested anymore—Ah fuck, that’s it Angel.”

“What the fuck is going on there?!”

Seonghwa only chuckles in reply, hitting the loudspeaker for Yunho to reply him, “Don’t worry about y/n, she’s well taken care of. Better than however the fuck you did, that’s for sure.” Yunho strokes your jaw, encouraging you to fit more of him in your mouth, biting back a curse when look up at him with doe eyes, spit and precum just coating his cock every time you bob your head.

“We definitely need a little talk when we see you. Until then, maybe learn to fuck better”, Seonghwa adds, before disconnecting the line, ignoring the sudden myriad of messages barging and spamming your inbox from said male. Well, you were busy. 

Seonghwa’s attention snaps back to you once more when he feels your cunt squeeze around him, and the way your pussy is just endlessly creaming on his cock is just driving Seonghwa closer to his high, partnered with the obscene sounds bouncing off the walls he knew his fraternity brother definitely heard.  

“That’s a good fucking girl. You’re doing so well for me. Fuck. I’m gonna cum. So fucking close, Angel”, Seonghwa hisses, his thrusts becoming more erratic, cock mindlessly hitting deeper spots of your poor cunt before he feels you completely let go and cum right on his cock as well, his warm cum filling up your cunt.

Yunho isn’t faring any better, his eyes are glazed out at the way your throat is closing around his cock every time he slips it in, and when your eyes roll back with your mouth covering the entirety of his cock, clenching him again at the back of your throat, Yunho can’t help but cum down your tight pretty throat with a strangled groan, along with praises of you taking his cock like his good little girl, and how you’re taking all of his cum so well, which only makes your mind buzz with pleasure on top of both of your holes being filled up. 

Yunho jerks back slightly on instinct from the overstimulation, before his hands cup your jaw to assist you pull out. Cum dribbles down the corner of your lips from your futile attempt to swallow it all, but Yunho simply grabs a handful of tissues for you to spit in should you need to. Then his lips press onto your forehead, his voice like honey in your ears as he praises you for taking him and Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa on the other hand, had pulled out of you, swallowing hard as his cum mixed with Yunho’s seeps past your folds, dripping onto his half hard cock. Seonghwa thinks he could go another round, but not now. The thought of ruining your pussy over and over again is definitely the most enticing to him,   but he makes mental note to delete and block the twat’s number on your phone while you go wash up. 

The exhaustion is slowly kicking into your body, considering you’ve never been fucked this good, but Yunho insists to wash you up before you rest in either one of their rooms, which you don’t put up much of a fight against, considering the state of you right now. 

Yunho, slightly displeased that Seonghwa insisted on snuggling on his bed as well, the three of you sharing Yunho’s bed, with you in the middle. As Seonghwa combs through your hair with his fingers, you suddenly remember the phone call. 

You look up to both of them and ask, “Who called just now?” Evidently, you were so deep into your pleasure that who called didn’t even register in your mind, the faint memory of the dull vibration of your phone being the only thing you recall. 

Yunho and Seonghwa exchange glances before their eyes shoot back to you. Yunho forces a smile and Seonghwa continues to stroke your head, slowly lulling you into an exhausted slumber. 

“No one important. Someone we can thank for being able to compensate you, darling”, are the last words you barely process before you fall asleep in their arms.

[retiredteabag]

An Uninformed Narrative

Synopsis: You had lived in Stardew Valley for a year before you met the hunter from the adventures guild, Sukuna Itadori. It did not take long for him to catch your attention but you couldn't help feeling as if his affection resided anywhere but you.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

This is a Sukuna stardew valley au, heavily inspired by @tearzintheclub's similar series with butcher!sukuna, I highly recommend reading their work, they are super kind and were a big motivation for me to make this!

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

You had been dying for a decade before coming to the valley, still, unmercifully, alive. The bitter years you spent milling away on a computer, endless days blurring onto the next. A monotonous cycle of tireless work for a corporation that left you unfulfilled, complacent, and depressed. Holed up in a city you did not even like.

It was corrosive, only now, a year later, could you look back and realize that life didn't begin for you until you moved to your grandfather's farm.

It had been hard work. You knew it would be. Still, the labor it took to keep up with crops and farm animals had been more than you anticipated. But you had friends now, and goals. And that was more valuable than anything.

One year ago, when you came to the valley, romance was quite possibly the last thing occupying your mind. Only now, being able to comfortably settle into your home, could you allow yourself to think about things other than the prosperity of your land and the health of your animals.

That brings us to now.

You had read books about the Stardew Valley mines back in the mountains north of town. Harvey, the village doctor, had warned you of its treacherous depths. Having focused most of your efforts on farm/house maintenance, you had not traversed into dangerous territory beyond upgrading your tools and acquiring bug meat.

This is why, after a whole year of living in the valley, you were surprised to receive a notice in your mailbox from "The Adventurers Guild", an initiation of sorts, requesting you to slay 10 slimes to be granted entry.

You had thought about it all evening. By the next morning, you felt up for the challenge. After taking care of the chores you left you made your way up past the carpenter's shop, dropped off a fish you caught the night before to your friend Linus, and entered the mines.

It had been scary but you protected yourself well and acquired some gems and geodes to show for it. It was late when you made the trek home, but you were determined to enter the adventurers guild the next day.

It had been a delight to meet Gil and Marlon, the two men who ran the guild. They sold weapons and protective gear, offered rewards for monster slaying, and purchased monster loot. Still having some on you, you traded them in for the cash. With a smile on your face, you decided to go into town to buy some icecream for Yuuji, Jas, and Vincent.

Penny, the town's teacher, had the kids in the museum for lessons until 2 PM, so you traveled quickly to meet them in time.

Penny was always a delight. Kind to everyone, even if they did not deserve it. She was so good with the kids as well, and dedicated much of her time to their education.

You had met Penny just a few days after moving to the town at the local flower shop in the Cidersap Forest. You had learned she was quite fond of Poppy flowers and the owner of the little place, Jin Itadori, was unbelievably generous, always interested in hearing about your farm, and always willing to give out a flower or two.

Yuuji, being the florist's son and Penny's student, became a quick friend of yours and always wanted to talk whenever you came by the shop. Of course, you never minded and listened intently whenever the boy felt like sharing a fun fact about the flora in his home.

--

Time passed with the changing of the seasons and it wasn't long before fall was upon you.

Ever since entering the mines and joining the Adventures guild, you have been thinking about the quests Marlon and Gil have sent you on. Though it is dangerous, scouring the mines for the flesh of monsters, it brings you a thrill to know you are doing something good for the community.

A post had gone up on the community board in town about collecting bat wings and bringing the population down to a manageable level the other day, and in your spare time, you had been working on completing the quest.

It was late one night when you began to make your way back up to the mountains from the mine's elevator, you had quite the collection and enough time to sell it at the Guild before making your way home.

"You've been keepin' busy." Marlon greeted you as the wind pushed the door open along with your arm.

You smile at the man, unloading the backpack of your finds. "Well there's always something to do around here." you reply.

"True as the day is long...." Gil rocked back and forth in his chair, pretending to hear your conversation.

"I must say I'm glad to have you 'round. The quest board in town seems to be worked through much faster now." Marlon takes the post you handed him and the 200 bat wings, he was just about to hand you the payment when the door to the Guild swung open.

The hinges seemed to rattle with the shock of the large man's blow of it. He's huffing, yanking a balaclava up and over his face.

He has thick, pink hair and bright red eyes, he's enormous, having to duck just a bit so as not to hit his head on the door frame.

You looked at him, a bit shocked at his garish entrance. He looks so familiar, but his face is covered in tattoos. A unique style you've never seen before, certainly not in Stardew Valley

Despite being at the counter yourself, the lumbering man strides right up next to you, a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. And just then, you have a thought.

Was he doing town board requests too? He was clearly not from the village, you would have met him by now. But Marlon does not spare him much of a glace, even when a stack of bones and a collection of rings is placed on his counter.

"Those damn haunted skulls are somethin' else." The man looks at Marlon with a gaze of distaste but the Guild leader just laughs. The large man doesn't look at you once.

Despite the chill of fall present in the air, he has sweat glistening on his exposed neck, he runs a hand through his hair and you can't help but notice how handsome this man is. The only thing, who was he? And why was he monster hunting in the Valley's mines?

"You got a problem?" Shocked from your thoughts, you look up. You hadn't meant to stare but upon his antagonized question your eyes bulge a bit.

"No! No, no, sorry..." You turn away, collecting the gold Marlon left out for you, ready to turn and leave when the man behind the counter made a gesture with his hand.

He called your name, "This is Sukuna, likely haven't met em' have ya? He's real reserved and all."

So he lives here? How could that be? "Oh, it's nice to meet you!" You go to shake his hand but he just looks you up and down, effectively dissuading that desire.

"So you're the rookie taking all the board requests in town, hmm?" He looks so domineering, still, even having just met him, you can reasonably assume that's just what his face looks like.

You shuffle where you stand, "Er... maybe so, yes... I'm sorry, I didn't know that was your area..." You wave your hand to the array of loot he had seemingly just acquired. He scoffs.

Marlon looks to you, "Sukuna is our most tenured monster hunter-"

Gil interjects from his rocking chair, "If ever there's a board request this here man can't handle, I know hell's right about frozen over."

The man before them did not crack a smile. A shiver went down your spine.

"I see, well, I live on the farm behind the Cidersap Forest-"

He cuts you off, looking almost annoyed, "I know who you are."

Oh.

Okay...

"Gotcha, sorry, well... it was nice meeting you." Sukuna stares at you for a moment before turning back to the Adventurers Guild leaders.

The awkwardness of the moment was painful, you already know youll be obsessing over this first impression for the next month or so and your shaking leg is telling you it is time to escape the embaressment before this man shuts down any more small talk.

You wonder if perhaps Sukuna is upset with you for "taking his job". Or maybe he had a bad day. If he really had been hunting Haunted Skulls, he had probably been dangerously deep in the mines.

Even though his gaze had been piercing, his frown looked permanent, and his tattoos gave off a highly intimidating look. You could tell there had been no malice behind his demeanor. And that, would be a small comfort as you mulled your way through the darkness.

You spent the whole walk home thinking about the large man. You had been everywhere in Stardew Valley yet had never met him.

He must live out of town, you thought as you checked the weather for tomorrow.

Rain. That meant another day in the mines. You needed an upgrade on your equipment if you were going to continue supplying for your growing crops' demands. That meant plunging deeper into the depths of the mine.

Sleep pulled at you even still, just as your eyes fell shut the memory of the pink-haired man popped back up into your brain.

His shirt stuck nauseatingly to his toned chest, his neck glimmering in the firelight of the guild, and those eyes. The red, sharp eyes he had looked you up and down with.

"I know who you are."

It was a small town. Even if you were from the outskirts. It was a shame though... having not met the man before... he certainly seemed interesting.

You shook the man from your thoughts as your dog climbed into the bed and the two of you began to doze off.

Unknown to you, a long and unexpected day awaited you at dawn.

[punkshort]

In Another Life | Part I

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader (time travel au)

Chapter Summary: Your brother and his friend surprise you after work with a handsome stranger crashing on your couch who claims to be from Ancient Rome.

Chapter Warnings: language, food consumption, major romcom vibes, mentions of prostitution, mentions of OC death, mentions of OC pregnancy, flirting, sexual tension

WC: 6.5K

A/N: this is a soft/romcom Marcus Acacius mini-series. Heavily inspired by Kate & Leopold. Also, let's just assume Ancient Romans spoke and could read English.

Series Masterlist

Time was of the essence. He had to move quick.

People would say he was a coward, no doubt his legacy would be tarnished, but if he escaped with his life, so be it.

He didn't bother with spare clothes, just an extra set of sandals and food thrown into a satchel before he crept down the dimly lit hallway, careful not to wake one of his many servants.

He loved his palace. It was a place of peace and comfort for him, but come morning, it would be ripped away and he would be thrown into the pit. A general, Rome's deadly sword and the Emperor's right hand man, would become a lowly gladiator. Trained to perform and kill for amusement.

And all because he refused to play the Emperor's sick game.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't help train another legion of young men half his age to fight and die for their vanity. For their greed. When the Emperor announced his new task, all he could think of was his unborn son. He would be of age now, had he lived. He could have been training him to die.

He padded down the stone steps softly, hardly making a sound, his combat training serving him well. He managed to get just outside the city limits while it was still dark, but he could see the glow from the sun breaking the horizon. He didn't have much time to find a place to hide. He was still too close, and no doubt warriors would be looking for him once Geta realized he had fled.

Gods above, if they found him... his fate would be far worse than one of a gladiator.

He stumbled across a small clearing, head twisted around to make sure he was not being followed when he tripped over something large and heavy.

"Oh, shit!" he heard a young male voice exclaim.

Quickly, he unsheathed his sword and aimed it toward the voice. Confusion painted his face when he saw the unusual clothing and utterly strange contraption behind him. Before he had a chance to say anything, leaves rustled and he swung is sword towards the noise. Another young man, similarly dressed to the other, emerged from the thicket.

"State your names. Quick."

"Uh..." the first man trailed off, hands raising slowly in the air. "D-Danny. Daniel. And this is... Victor."

"Dude! C'mon! You know I -"

"Silence!" the general roared as loud as he dared. "What is your business here?"

"Science! Just... experiments. And the like," Danny said hurriedly, glancing at Victor for help. He nodded.

"Yes. Experiments."

"And are you citizens of Rome?"

They paused and looked at one another again.

"We are citizens of... York," Danny said.

"It's new," Victor added.

The general looked back and forth between the two men before ultimately deciding he did not have the time to quarrel with them and they did not appear to be a threat. He dropped his sword to the side and glanced around.

"You did not see me," he said sternly, turning to leave.

"Wait!"

He glanced back over his shoulder, pausing.

"Are you running away?"

"Fleeing," Victor added quietly.

"Fleeing?" Daniel repeated.

"I do not see it fit for you to ask such questions of someone above your station," he snarled. The two men exchanged worried looks before continuing.

"We're leaving. If you're looking to jet, you can... y'know," Danny said, jutting a thumb over his shoulder towards the strange looking contraption.

"Can you get me to Greece?"

They grinned and nodded.

"Sure, dude."

The general glanced around once again, his brow furrowing when he saw the light stretching high into the sky, brightening the landscape and soon, giving his position away.

"Then I accept."

He sheathed his sword and stomped over to the men, startling them both with his intensity.

Victor turned to unlock a door, struggling a bit before it popped open and crawling inside. Danny stuck out a hand and gave him a nervous smile.

"What's your name?"

His eyes dropped down to the frail looking hand before him, then slowly, as if he couldn't decide, lifted his arm to grasp the inside of Daniel's forearm, giving him a vigorous shake.

"General Marcus Acacius."

"What the fuck?" you grumbled under your breath, rereading your brother's text.

Danny: I have a friend crashing on the couch, won't stay long

Shuffling your bag onto your other shoulder as you walked down the bustling city street, you tapped out a response.

You: It better not be Lizard.

Danny: It's not, but he's here 2

Danny: Just visiting

Fucking Lizard. You've known him since he was maybe ten years old and you were fairly certain he never matured past that age.

Given you had two extra people waiting for you in your already cramped apartment, you decided to grab a couple pizzas on the way home instead of the sushi you had been thinking about all day. Choosing to be a little selfish, you made one of them a white pizza, it being your favorite, and made your way home with the last bits of energy you had left.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you walked into that day.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you stepped into your apartment, door wide open behind you, two pizza boxes balancing in one hand as you stared blankly at the massive man standing with his back to you in the middle of the living room. He was dressed in some strange type of robe that fell just above his knee and his head was bent, looking at something on your coffee table.

When you cleared your throat, he swung around and defensively placed a hand at his waist. That was when you noticed the massive and very real looking sword at his side and your blood ran cold.

"D-Danny!" you yelled, your eyes glued to the stranger's hand. As if he finally sensed your fear, he dropped his arm and straightened up.

"Apologies-"

"Danny!" you yelled again, louder this time.

"Yeah? Hey! Sorry," Danny said, hurrying into the room with Lizard following on his heels.

"Oh, pizza? Sweet," Lizard said, reaching for the boxes and brushing past you as if an armed man wasn't standing in the middle of your home.

"Who the hell is this?!" you exclaimed, pointing towards the stranger while glaring at your brother.

"I told you already, he's a friend who's crashing on the couch for a few days," he replied, following Lizard into the kitchen, pizza the only concern at that point.

"My lady," the man began again, "please allow me to explain."

"My lady?" you repeated with a scowl. "I thought you guys stopped playing Dungeons and Dragons after high school."

"That's not -" Danny shook his head with a mouthful of pizza, "this is General Acacius."

"General?" you said quizzically, raising an eyebrow first at Danny, then towards the large man in your living room. "Be serious, Danny."

"He is!"

"I promise, what he says is true," the general chimed in, taking a step closer and stretching out his hand. You sighed and dropped your things onto your table.

"I'm too tired for this, it's been a long week."

The general frowned, hand still outstretched. "Daniel, please explain to your mistress she is not to challenge men above her lover's ranking."

You balked and gagged. "Lover?!"

"Mistress?" Danny said at the same time with a similar look of disgust. "Gross, dude, she's my sister."

Something in the general's face shifted when he learned you were siblings and he looked at you with renewed interest. "Ah, so you do not belong to another?"

You rolled your eyes and grabbed a plate, tossing a piece of white pizza on it before Danny and Lizard ate it all. "I don't have a husband, no. And that's a super sexist thing to say, I don't care if you're role playing or not."

Turning around to exit the kitchen, you were surprised to find the general somehow snuck up on you. Standing just a few feet away, you nearly ran into his strong, broad chest. He lifted a hand to tilt your chin up and whatever biting remark you had locked and loaded died on your tongue. You finally allowed yourself to get a good look at him. Dark, brooding eyes. Thick, brown curls dusted in grey, the color matching his beard. Sharp, angular nose and pouty lips.

Okay, so he was good looking. That didn't negate the weird dress and obvious mental illness.

"Your name?" he murmured softly, finger still hooked under your chin.

You cleared your throat and responded with your name, to which he nodded before dropping his hand. His gaze drifted to your plate and his nose wrinkled. "What is this you are eating?"

"Pizza?" you replied, squeezing up against your counter so you could get past him and get some space. "Help yourself."

"What is pizza?" you heard him ask Danny. You collapsed onto the couch with a groan and took a bite, fully not in the mood for whatever weird shit your brother had going on.

"It's Italian, you'll like it," Danny replied.

The three men trailed in from the kitchen to join you in the living room, your moment of peace and quiet over.

"This appears to be some bastardized version of flatbread," the general said, lifting the piece of pizza and giving it a tentative sniff. "What is this red? Some kind of pepper paste?"

"It's tomato sauce."

"Alright, enough with this bullshit please," you said, but the men ignored you.

You watched as he took a bite and almost instantly spit it out. "This is vile."

"Hey, that's authentic New York City pizza. Nothing vile about it," Lizard said. You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration.

"General - I'm sorry, I'm not calling you that. What's your real name?"

"That is my real name," he answered, cocking his head at you from the other end of the couch.

"General Marcus Acacius," Danny told you, cursing under his breath when he dropped some cheese on his shirt.

"Okay, Marcus," you began, but he shook his head.

"It is quite inappropriate for you to -"

"I don't give a shit, I'm not calling you General like I'm in the fucking army!"

The room fell quiet as you glared at Marcus, daring him to say another word. When it became evident he wasn't going to, you took a deep breath and continued.

"If you don't like the sauce, there's another pizza in the kitchen without it. Go try that," you said, voice a little softer now. He nodded and rose to go find the white pizza, leaving just the three of you for the first time.

"What the fuck, Danny?!" you whispered angrily. "Why the hell is there a guy in a dress pretending he's a fucking general in my home?"

"He is a general," Danny whispered back. "From Ancient Rome. I'll explain everything later," he said, straightening up when Marcus's footsteps approached.

"This is far better. Thank you, my lady."

"Oh, look at that. You already have something in common," Lizard said with a fake, syrupy voice. "You both love gross pizza."

"Thought you just said authentic New York City pizza can't be gross?" you sneered.

"Boom! She got you, Lizard," Danny laughed. Marcus looked around the room, confused.

"You said your name was Victor, did you not?"

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth with a napkin.

"Lizard's just his nickname. His real name is Victor," Danny explained.

"Yeah. No one calls me Victor. Just like no one calls you Marcus," Lizard explained.

"Only those dearest to me are allowed to use that name," he explained. "Such as a parent or a lover." His eyes flickered up to you quickly before focusing on his pizza once again.

"Does that make you his lover now?" Lizard teased. You kicked a foot out and jabbed him in the hip.

"Shut up," you grumbled.

"Do you not follow the proper steps to obtain a lover in your land?" he asked, genuine curiosity painting his face. "It is much more than simply calling another by a name. If a man were to deem a woman acceptable, he would make an arrangement with her father to wed." He scratched his chin in thought for a moment before adding, "unless, of course, she is a whore."

Lizard and Danny doubled over, howling with laughter while you stared daggers at them both.

"Did I say something to warrant such laughter?" Marcus asked you. You rolled your eyes.

"No, you did not."

"Rule number one, General," Danny said, gasping for air and wiping the tears from his eyes. "Don't call girls whores."

Marcus looked taken aback.

"I meant no offense. A whore is a common profession where I am from. There is no shame in it."

"Alright, can we stop talking about whores?" you asked, exasperated.

"Yeah, good idea. Let's find you some clothes to wear and we'll set up the couch so you can sleep. It folds out, don't worry," Danny told Marcus.

"My tunic should suffice," Marcus said, glancing down at his clothes.

"Uh, not in New York, man. Might stick out a little," Lizard joked, then stood to take his plate back in the kitchen for seconds.

"Depends on what side of town you're on," you mumbled under your breath.

"You can borrow something of mine," Danny said, standing up to go to his room. "You're a little bigger than me but I think I have something that'll work."

You eyed Marcus up over your plate, taking in the finer details of his appearance. "Where are you from? Really?" you asked. He turned to you with a sigh.

"Rome."

"Come on. You can drop the act, they're gone," you said, narrowing your eyes at him.

"I promise, I am telling you the truth," he replied, his gaze boring into you so intensely that it left you spellbound for a moment. "Your brother and his comrade found me on the outskirts of the city with some... contraption. They said they would take me to Greece, however it is clear this is not Greece."

"A contraption?" you repeated nervously. Oh, fuck.

He nodded. "I had never seen anything like it. I do not know what happened but once I entered, there were bright lights and a loud crack and... I must have lost consciousness. I woke in your lounge, utterly confused."

"Shit," you whispered, putting your plate down so you could angrily scrub your face with your hands. Danny, although very irritating and far too dependent on you for basic survival, was incredibly gifted. His intelligence stunned his teachers since he was three years old. He was doing long division at five and became fluent in Spanish at seven. By the time he entered high school, he had grown extremely interested in science, where he met Lizard. For years you had witnessed failed experiments and fireballs in your backyard, but you saw all their successes, as well. Since they were fourteen, Danny and Lizard talked about time travel and you always brushed them off, even when they began to build different devices throughout the years that claimed they were on the verge of a breakthrough, but of course, nothing ever came of it.

Until now.

No, that was crazy. There's no way they actually travelled back in time to Ancient Rome and returned with a Roman general... right?

"Why were you going to Greece?" you asked, tiredly dropping your hands in your lap.

He paused for a moment and you could see the hesitation in his eyes. He opened his mouth to reply right when Danny emerged from his bedroom with an armful of different clothing options.

"We'll go shopping tomorrow and find something else that will fit," he said, sheepishly handing over the clothes. Marcus slowly reached out and set them down on the cushion next to him.

"Thank you."

"Hey, I'm gonna take off," Lizard said from the kitchen doorway.

"Yeah, alright. Hey!" Danny said, swiveling around before he left. "You'll be back tomorrow, right? I need your help with the... thing."

You narrowed your eyes in his direction but remained silent. Once Marcus was asleep, you planned on having a very heated conversation with your brother, so you saved that little tidbit for later.

"Yeah, sure thing, man."

You stood to clean up the leftovers while you listened to Danny explain the concept of a pull-out couch to Marcus, then after that, a bathroom. The more time that passed, the more nervous you became. What if this was real? Was it even possible?

Quietly, you stepped out from the kitchen. Marcus was sitting on the edge of the pull out mattress, hands clasped together between his knees as he stared blankly at the floor. For the first time, you felt bad for him. If everything he said was true, he had to have been so confused and scared.

"Hey," you said softly. He lifted his head with a jolt of surprise. "Here's some water," you said, offering him a plastic bottle. He took it and frowned. "You twist the top to open it," you explained, ignoring how ridiculous it felt to tell a grown man how to open a bottle of water.

"Thank you," he replied, setting it down on the floor next to his bed.

"Do you need anything else?"

He shook his head and gave you a small smile. "No, my lady. Thank you for your hospitality."

"You're welcome," you said shyly, inching towards the little hallway that led to your bedroom. "We'll get you back home, Marcus. Don't worry."

He swallowed and smiled again. "Of course."

You smiled back and awkwardly clapped your hands together. "Well, if you need anything at all, just knock on one of our doors."

He nodded and with a sigh, began to peel back the sheets.

"Good night, my lady," he said once your back was turned. You swiveled back around and gave him a little wave, his deep brown eyes looking breathtaking in the evening light.

"Good night."

Flustered, you knocked into the doorframe on your way back to your room. Cursing under your breath and rubbing your shoulder, you slipped behind your door, finally putting an end to your humiliation.

The next morning you sipped your coffee in your kitchen as you replayed the argument you had with Danny the night before once you were sure Marcus was asleep.

"You need to get him back home. Tomorrow, Danny," you had said sternly.

"There might be a slight hiccup with that," he replied, bracing himself for your anger. "The machine needs repairs."

"What the fuck do you mean?!" you seethed as your paced around his cluttered room.

"Don't worry, sis! We can fix it! But we just need a couple days."

"How many days?" you asked with a glare.

Danny shrugged. "Two. Three."

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose.

"A week, tops."

"A week?!"

"Shh! You'll wake him up!" he scolded, pointing angrily towards the door. "Lizard's coming over tomorrow, we'll get working on it right away. Something happened on impact when we returned, I didn't factor in modern day atmospheric pressure originally, but -"

"I don't give a shit what the reason is, you just need to fix it! You have no clue what the ramifications are by keeping him here! You could alter the course of history or something!"

"You watch too many movies," Danny chuckled, but quickly stopped and cleared his throat when he saw the look on your face. "I'll fix it. Promise."

The caffeine hadn't even had a chance to enter your bloodstream before Danny woke and dropped yet another problem onto your lap.

"Do you think you can take him shopping for some clothes today while me and Lizard work on this thing?" he asked as he poured cereal into a bowl.

"So now I'm running errands for you?" you snapped.

"C'mon, don't be like that," he replied as he put the carton of milk back in the fridge. The dynamic between you and your brother was wearing thin. It was always up to you to be the levelheaded one while he just allowed the wind to take him wherever it pleased, completely carefree while you harbored all the stress of basic responsibilities.

"Try to just enjoy the adventure for once," he added before messily scooping cereal into his mouth.

"Yeah, right," you grumbled under your breath before bringing your mug to your lips and taking another sip.

"So, is that a yes?"

"Fine," you said with a roll of your eyes. "If only so I can get away from this apartment and the inevitable chaos those repairs will bring. Just don't piss off my neighbors, okay?"

"Deal."

"Good day," you heard Marcus's deep voice rumble behind you. You jumped and swiveled around, gaze flickering down briefly to take in his borrowed clothes. Danny was right, he needed something that fit.

"Morning, General," Danny said with a grin. "Sleep well?"

"Surprisingly, yes. Even with all the noise outdoors... tell me, is it ever silent here?"

"No," you both said in unison. He nodded and looked down at his tunic, which was crumpled up in his fist.

"Do you have a servant I can give this to for washing?"

"That would be me," you said, stretching out your arm. Marcus hesitated for a moment.

"The lady of the house shouldn't have to perform such arduous tasks."

"I agree, yet here we are," you said, taking the tunic and tossing it over your shoulder. "I have to put in a load, anyway."

You changed your clothes and freshened up while listening to your brother scrape together some type of meal for Marcus that he found acceptable, then pressed the button on your tiny washing machine before heading back into the kitchen.

"Ready?"

Marcus glanced between you and Danny while chewing the last piece of a baguette.

"My sister's gonna take you shopping for some clothes," Danny explained. Marcus looked down at his attire and nodded.

"To the market, then?" he asked you, trailing after you as you tossed your bag over your shoulder and walked down the hallway towards the elevators.

"Something like that."

"I have plenty of denar," he said as you jabbed the call button.

"Denar?" you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather satchel filled with unfamiliar coins. You grinned and shook your head.

"Don't worry, I got it."

"Please, your hospitality has already been gracious enough," he said, following you into the elevator when it opened.

"If you can find someone who will take that, then be my guest," you said, tapping the lobby button. He was about to say something else when the doors closed and the car violently jolted, startling him.

"What is this?"

"It's an elevator. It lifts us up and down so we don't have to take the stairs."

His jaw hung open in disbelief until the doors slid open to reveal the lobby, then he broke out into a huge smile.

"Incredible."

But once he followed you out onto the busy New York City street, peppered with pedestrians, bicyclists, couriers, and a sea of vehicles, then his eyes practically bugged out of his head.

"I see now where all the noise comes from," he said to you, raising his voice a bit over the commotion as you walked. It was actually endearing to see him experience the city for the first time, something you took for granted every day leaves most people in awe. It was easy to forget that.

"Stick close," you said with a small smile when you saw him tip his head back to gaze up at the towering skyscrapers.

"What is your profession, then?" he asked as he walked by your side. You noticed with envy that others on the sidewalk veered out of his way, his massive shoulders and hulking frame no doubt the reason, instead of brushing past him, like what most do to you every day.

"I write for a fashion magazine."

"Oh, so you're a poet?" he asked, intrigued. You shook your head with a small laugh.

"No. I write about romance in the lifestyle section. I have a column every month on a different topic and I also pick three reader questions to answer and publish on the website every week."

It was clear he hardly understood what you were talking about, so you stopped at the nearest newsstand and grabbed your magazine. After paying, you ushered him over to a bench and sat down while you thumbed through it.

"Ah! Here we go," you said, proudly handing over the magazine and tapping on the corner of the page.

"'Are Soulmates Real'?" he read aloud the title before frowning at you. You nodded.

"Yeah, I talk about the idea of soulmates and how it's putting too much pressure on the modern woman to find this perfect partner when in reality, they don't exist."

"And how do you know this?" he asked, clearly amused.

"I don't, but I wrote from experience," you shrugged.

"So, since you have not found a soulmate, that means they do not exist?"

"No, it's an opinion, Marcus," you explained, "the magazine pays me for my opinion and outlook on things."

He sighed and closed the magazine with a shake of his head. "I am sorry you feel that way."

"Are you saying you believe in soulmates?" you asked.

"Well, I cannot say one way or another from experience, but I like to believe they exist, yes."

"Do you have a wife or family waiting for you back home?" The thought hadn't even occurred to you before now and you felt guilty, but he shook his head.

"My wife died many years ago during childbirth," he said sadly, and your heart plummeted. "She was young and I had just made rank, so her father arranged our marriage in order to ensure a safe and comfortable life for his only daughter." He looked down at the magazine in his hands but he wasn't really reading it. He was too lost in thought.

"She was with child very quickly after we wed. I had not even known her a year by the time she passed, but the time I had with her was enjoyable. I thought very much one day we would learn to love one another," he said, giving you a sad smile. "Was not meant to be."

"I'm so sorry," you said softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "That's horrible... I don't even know what to say."

"It was a long time ago now. I never did remarry, although I had many offers. I became entirely focused on war, fighting to keep Rome and her citizens safe. It is what I was meant to do," he said, exhaling loudly and looking around. "Is this what you feel you are meant to do?" he asked, holding up the magazine. You laughed, grateful for the change of subject.

"No, probably not."

He grinned and nodded in agreement. "Yes, I imagine you are destined for much more, my lady."

"You think so?" you asked, scrunching your nose self-consciously.

He nodded, his gaze drifting over your face solemnly.

"I do."

If elevators impressed Marcus, then the escalators within Bloomingdale's practically floored him. He was so enraptured with them that you had to nudge his shoulder to remind him to step forward before he tripped when you got to the top.

"This is unlike anything I have ever laid my eyes on," he said to you in wonder, his head rolling around on his shoulders as he gazed around at all the lights and signage.

"Yeah, Bloomingdale's is special," you said dreamily. "Sometimes I get to tag along with girls from work to pick out fashion samples for the magazine. It's always so much fun."

You led him over to the men's section and turned to study his broad frame. "You're probably an extra large," you said as you began to sift through the racks, picking out various shirts in different styles and colors and draping them over your arm. He watched you without saying a word, just occasionally feeling the material between his fingertips whenever he saw something that caught his eye. When you got to the pants, you paused and pursed your lips. Glancing around, you spotted a measuring tape left on one of the registers. Grabbing his hand in yours, you dragged him over and shoved the shirts in his arms.

"Here. Hold these while I measure your waist and inseam."

He frowned for a moment but did as you asked, then jumped when you wrapped your arms around his middle with the tape.

"Sorry, it will only take a second," you murmured, ignoring how muscular and firm he felt under your hands. You took note of the number and flushed when it came time to measure his inseam. You chewed on your lip and glanced around, searching for a worker to maybe do it instead, but none were nearby.

"Okay, I'm going to have to measure the length of your leg," you began to explain. "I need to... put my hand close to..." you trailed off and gestured vaguely towards his lap and it finally seemed to click.

"Oh," he said in surprise, glancing down. He cleared his throat and nodded but you could see the pink creeping up his neck.

"I'll be fast," you assured him, "unless you prefer I find someone else."

"No, that is quite alright," he told you, standing tall and tucking his hands behind his back. Glancing around the store once more, you fell to your knees with the measuring tape. You tried not to think about it, tried not to look, but his clothes were too snug as it was and it was right fucking there.

Jesus Christ, you had to get it together. You were not lusting after a time traveling Roman general in the middle of Bloomingdale's. But it was impossible to ignore the impressive looking bulge right at eye level.

"Okay," you said quickly, standing up so fast your head spun. "Got it, let's go."

You hurriedly dropped the measuring tape back on the counter and swiveled around, looking for men's pants while trying to hide how flustered you were. You grabbed a few pairs of jeans and khakis before adding them to Marcus's pile, and avoiding his eye, you pointed over to the corner.

"You can try them on in there."

You waited outside patiently, listening to him struggle with a zipper. You had to draw the line: there was no way you would help him with that. But when he emerged from the dressing room for approval wearing a nice fitting pair of jeans and a white polo shirt, you kind of missed those tight clothes from before. You gave him a smile and thumbs up and he grinned before stepping back into the dressing room. When he turned around and you saw his ass in those jeans, you tilted your head to the side and raised your eyebrows.

Okay, the new clothes weren't so bad, either.

You picked him out two pairs of pants, an assortment of shirts, and paid before going to the intimates floor to grab some underwear, socks, and pajamas. On the way to the men's section, you passed by some mannequins wearing lacy lingerie and robes. Marcus frowned and tugged on your elbow.

"What is that for?"

You glanced in the direction he was pointing and inwardly groaned.

"It's undergarments women wear," you explained, hoping to leave it at that, but he still had questions.

"What is the purpose of the colors if they are under your clothes?"

You sighed and pinched your nose. "It's for sex, okay?" you whispered to him, looking around quickly to make sure nobody could overhear you.

"Sex?" he repeated at full volume. You shushed him, your cheeks flaring with heat, but he just gave you a bewildered look. "Why must I be quiet?"

"We don't talk about sex in public here," you told him, voice still lowered. "It's inappropriate."

"Why on earth not?" he asked, but he kept his voice soft for your benefit as he followed you into the men's section. "Nothing is more natural or beautiful than sex."

"Yeah, well, I don't have all the answers, Marcus."

"And why would a woman drape herself in such garb? A woman's body is a work of art. It is meant to be worshiped and admired just as it is. One would not hang ornaments off a statue of Venus, so why would a woman -"

"I don't know, Marcus!" you said, grabbing a pack of boxers and then a pack of white socks. "Men just like it, I guess."

He scoffed and shook his head but chose not to say anything further when he picked up the agitation in your voice.

You paid for the rest of the clothes and handed him the bag to carry as you led him to the exit. "Are you hungry What do you usually eat around this time of day?"

"It varies. I quite like fish with some bread and cheese."

You thought about it for a moment before your face lit up and you snapped your fingers.

"I have an idea."

Right around the corner from Bloomingdale's was one of your favorite bagel places. You found a table outside and made him sit then hurried inside to order two lox bagels. You almost grabbed Diet Coke but then thought that might kill him, so instead you got two waters and met him back outside in less than ten minutes.

"Try this," was all you said, handing him a warm bagel wrapped in paper and smelling absolutely divine.

Carefully, he peeled the paper away and sniffed the bagel before taking a hesitant bite. You waited, your own bagel untouched, for his reaction. His eyes snapped up to yours and a slow smile spread across his face.

"This is magnificent."

You giggled and tore into the paper covering your own lunch. "I had a feeling you would like it. Fish, bread and cheese."

He nodded and took a bigger bite. "Very wise. Tell me," he said, wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "How has no one asked your father for your hand in marriage? You are bright, strong and beautiful. I am shocked you are not taken."

You decided to let the taken comment go that time and swallowed your food before replying. "Our parents are dead, first of all. But secondly, even if someone was interested in marrying me, they wouldn't need to ask my father. They just ask the woman directly now."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "My apologies. I was unaware of your parents' passing."

"That's okay," you shrugged. "It was a long time ago. Danny was a teenager and I had just graduated high school." You looked up at him, realizing he wouldn't understand what that meant. "I was nineteen. I had to grow up fast and help keep an eye on Danny," you settled on saying, figuring that would sum it up enough.

He nodded and looked down at his food, quietly thinking over what you said. "Has a man ever asked for your hand?" he asked before taking another bite of food.

You laughed. "Uh, no."

"Why is that humorous?"

You sighed and glanced around. "I haven't exactly dated many winners." He cocked an eyebrow at you and you added, "I seem to only attract assholes."

"Ah," he said in understanding. "I am attracted to you. Does this make me an... asshole?"

Your eyelids fluttered and you nearly choked on your water. "W-what?"

"I said, I am attracted -"

"No, I heard you, I just needed a second to process what you said," you told him, feeling your heart beat loudly in your chest. He tilted his head at you curiously.

"Does this surprise you?"

You laughed and fanned the back of your neck nervously. "Um, yes, a little. People don't usually go around just announcing when they're attracted to someone. They're a little more subtle than that."

"Oh. Have I made you uncomfortable? I do apologize," he said, his deep brown eyes softening as he gazed at you across the table.

"It's okay, I just didn't expect it," you chuckled, waving him off and focusing on your food with a stupid smile stretched across your face. He watched you eat for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching as he replayed what you just told him.

"You did not say if you are attracted to me," he said, drawing your attention back up to him. "Is this because you are not, or are you being... subtle?"

You grinned and shook your head. "You have a weird way of flirting."

He smiled back, the creases next to his eyes deepening. "I told you. Where I am from, sex is not something to be ashamed of. It is enjoyable and discussed often. Unless one has devoted themselves to a life of celibacy."

Definitely not, you thought. He let the subject drop as he finished the rest of his lunch and sat back in his chair, looking around at the cars inching by and beeping their horns angrily. You remained quiet for a few minutes, debating on what to say, if you should say anything at all until you finally decided fuck it.

"I'm attracted to you, too."

His head swiveled in your direction and he grinned. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

You giggled in disbelief before you said, "you're welcome."

Something had shifted between you on the walk back to your apartment. It felt so different from just a few hours ago, and it wasn't just the shocking confession over lunch. You had learned a little more about each other, let the other in and shared personal details about your lives, trusting one another with your vulnerability. And for once, you didn't feel raw and exposed. Strangely, it felt like you could trust him. Maybe it was because you knew he would be gone in a few days and it didn't feel like you had much to lose.

However, when you got off the elevator and walked toward your apartment, the sounds of power tools and shouting coming from the other side of the door, Marcus stopped you. He plucked your hand from your side and brought your knuckles to his lips, brushing over them gently while maintaining eye contact, the entire moment making your hands tremble and your heart to flutter excitedly in your chest.

"Thank you for today, my lady. I had a lovely time with you."

You smiled shyly at him and looked down at the ground.

"Me, too," you replied softly.

And it was then you realized you very much might have something to lose after all.

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[afro-hispwriter]

My Dornish Love

Aemond Targaryen x Martell!reader

Warnings- arranged marriages, heavy implications of masturbation

Wc- 2.3k

I don’t intend for this to be the only part, but we’ll see.

part 2

-

A marriage proposal between Martells and Targaryens isn’t unheard of. But the Martells always refuse in the end. They were far too stubborn and prideful the council members would think. 

There was a war coming, and everyone knew. The greens need all the support they can get. And having Dorne on their side can turn things around heavily. Dorne may not have large numbers of fighters, but their skills make up for it. 

When Qoren Martell received a letter from Queen Alicent in hopes that he would accept a marriage between his eldest daughter and her second son. Everyone expected the prince to decline, but he surprised everyone by agreeing. It was a tour for her to get to know the Prince but it was clear the decision had already been made regardless.

When you, the princess, found out. You were furious.

“I don’t understand, we have never accepted anything that would mean having Dorne become part of the kingdoms.” You paced in front of your father.

“And it is time to change that.” He says and you huff. 

“You know why they’re doing this, the Targaryens are on the brink of yet another war and they are making sure to bring everyone into it.” 

“We don’t know that.” 

“Yes we do, and you’re putting me in it.” When he didn’t respond you turned away to start walking away.

“Its simply a tour to see if you are compatible, Y/n. You and your brothers will be sailing for Kings Landing in two days, be ready.” 

-

Those two days came by quickly. Your handmaidens had some of your things packed for those three weeks and the ship loaders were finishing up. 

“What if I don’t like him?” You ask your father as both of you wait on the docks.

“Then you don’t marry him.”

“Im sure the decision is already made. This tour is just a formality.” You cross your arms. “You won’t even be there.”

“Your brothers will be there in my place.”

“What if he is cruel? Targaryen men are said to be cruel.” 

“Then I'm sure his death will be deemed a mere accident.” His voice almost had an amusing tone. A shipmaster called out that everything was ready. Qoren grabbed you by your arms and turned you to face him. “Write to me.”

“I will.” Your lip quivered and he kissed your forehead before grabbing your hand to guide you to a boat. Your brothers, Ryon and Deziel jumped in after you.

“Don’t miss us too much,” Deziel says waving at the man and Ryon rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t destroy Kings Landing,” Qoren says and walks away with his hands behind his back.

-

Aemond knew this conversation would come. This is what he was waiting for. He would do his duty, and he hoped the Dornish woman would agree. 

“I'm sure you hear how unprincipled the women of Dorne are, brother.” Aegon laughed next to Aemond. “They are wild in the brothels now imagine the princess herself.” Aemond continued to ignore him and paid attention to his book. “But I'm sure you know enough thanks to me.” Aemond tightened his hand on the book. “But I never see you have fun so you might have to rely on your betrothed.” 

Aemond slammed the book shut and stood up. 

“They will be here soon.” He says and starts walking out of the library. 

“The ship was only recently spotted and even then they are still a few days out. Don’t get your cock in a bunch.” Aegon mumbled the last bit into his cup. “Or maybe you can’t wait to stick-.” He was cut off by the library door slamming shut. 

-

Once the ship flying the flag of House Martell was seen on the Blackwater. The people of King's Landing were eager to see the Princes’ and the Princess themselves as most of them had only seen Dornish merchants.

The royal family went by carriage. Alicent gave her children one of her talks about being on their best behavior. It was mostly pointed at Aegon who sat there bored, Helaena sat fiddling with a bracelet, while Aemond looked out the windows. The carriage stopped just a few feet from the docks and a queen's guard member opened the door. Alicent stepped out first, followed by Helaena, then Aemond, and finally Aegon. 

A few ships had already docked. Mostly merchants were eager to set up their shops or make deliveries. The ship said to be carrying the princess and the princes docked and a plank was lowered. A herald of Dorne stepped out first and looked at the family. 

“Prince Ryon, Prince Deziel, and Princess Y/n Martell of Dorne!” People cheered loudly and clapped as they watched the three of you step off the boat. 

You grab Deziel’s hand and he helps you step off. The guards stepped off after and cleared a path. Ryon and Deziel kept their hands on the hilds of their swords as they began walking.

“I see the Queen and her children,” Ryon says and juts his chin over the hill. You looked over and saw the red-headed woman and the three silver-headed princes and princess. 

You looped yours and Deziel’s arms together and Ryon led you up the steps. You instantly saw the man who is your betrothed. He stood tall by his family, hands behind his back and a stoic look on his face. 

“The terrible, Prince Aemond,” Deziel whispers in your ear and you roll your eyes.

“Stop, I'm sure they are just rumors.” 

“Sure.” 

Ryon opened his arms with a smile.

“Your grace, how well it is to see you.” He says and grabs Alicents hands with care and brings them up to his plump lips. 

“Prince Ryon, the last time I saw you, you were a child.” She says with a slight blush. 

“Yes, well as you see. I have grown quite a bit.” If you knew your brother, you were sure he gave the queen a wink and his charming smile that makes so many women and men fall at his feet. Alicents face went redder and Ryon squeezed her hands before releasing them. “As much as I enjoy your presence, your grace, I was hoping to see the Hand. Speak to him about my sister and your second son.” Ryon flashed a look at Aemond.

“My father has other matters but I assure you, the Princess will be taken care of.” Ryon looked around before nodding.

“My brother will ride with all of you to the Keep as well. I still have other matters to deal with for my father.” 

“Of course.” The Queen says then looks at Aemond. “Aemond.” She gave him a tight-lipped smile and he knew what that meant. He stepped forward, his long legs had him in front of you. 

“Princess, I'm glad you are here.” His voice was cold but his face was neutral. He grabbed your hand and kissed it softly. You squint your eyes at him before smiling brightly.

“Prince Aemond, it is lovely to meet you.” 

“Hmm.” He dropped your hand and held his own back behind him. He stared at you, mostly taking you in while trying not to linger on your cleavage. Did you have a belly piercing? 

“Oh darling you should cover up a bit, someone brings the princess something to cover up.” Alicent urged and you instantly frowned.

“No it's alright your grace, I wear clothes like this all the time.” She gave you a tight-lipped smile before nodding.

“Well we best get back, you must be exhausted.” Alicent walked back to the carriage and Aemond stayed by you.

“Apologies about her, she is very modest.” He says and you shrug.

“Well, she is going to have to get used to it.” You say to him softly so nobody can hear. You received no response making you roll your eyes. 

“Let's get you home Princess.” You frowned.

Home?

-

When you sat next to Aemond in the carriage, your perfume hit his nostrils. You smelled heavenly, like fruit with a twinge of the salty sea. Nobody spoke on the road back to the Keep. 

But you and Deziel admired the outside. You had never been to Kings Landing so it was all new territory for you. It made you nervous. 

The horses stopped in front of the Keep and the door popped open. The Queen and Helaena left first, then Aegon, followed by Deziel, and finally you and Aemond. The castle was huge, you and Deziel started at it in awe. 

“It's quite ugly.” He says quietly you gasp and slapped his arm. 

“Deziel! Don’t say things like that.” Everyone looked at you in confusion so you just smiled reassuringly.  

“Our handmaiden, Thea.” Alicent beckoned over one of the servants. She was a pretty girl, with brown hair, fair skin, and green eyes. “I have assigned her to your service, she will lead you to your temporary chambers until a decision is made. Your brother as well will be shown his way.”

“Thank you, your grace.” She squeezes your bicep before leaving to go inside.

“Princess, would you like me to show you your room? I'm sure you are tired.” Thea asks and you nod.

“Lead the way.” She gives you a big smile before turning around. You start to follow her and you see Deziel had already been led away. You locked eyes with Aemond who stood by the horses now, watching you. “I will see you later, Prince Aemond.” 

-

“Your things will be brought up shortly princess, would you like me to draw you a bath in the meantime?” Thea asks and points to the small tub in your new room. 

“Yes and if you have any salts that would be greatly appreciated.” They did a small bow before leaving. You were finally alone, even if it were for a couple of minutes. Your new room was only a bit bigger than the one back in Dorne but extremely boring. 

You took the liberty of stepping onto the balcony to see where you would be living. The view was beautiful. Birds flew and you could see how tiny the small folk looked. 

It all still looked so sad, maybe it was the time of day but it made you miss Dorne all the same. They came in with some help to fill up the tub with warm water. She then dumped some soothing salts into the water.  

“Would you like help in undressing princess?” She asks and you shake your head. 

“No, that's quite alright, I will send for you once I'm ready.” She bowed and left. You hovered your hand over the water, letting the steam hit it. You slipped the material of your dress down your shoulder and it pooled at your feet. You kicked your flats off so they clattered on the floor. You grabbed the edges of the tub and slowly settled into the water. 

The warm water was welcoming after being at sea for over a week. You could have slept in it if it weren’t for a knock on the door. 

“Come in!” You yelled out and the door creaked open and you heard footsteps.

“Princess?” It was none other than your betrothed.

“Over here, Aemond.” You say and turn your head to face the panels that cover the tub from sight. 

“I wondered-.” Aemond rounded the corner and the second he locked eyes on your state, his long legs had him behind the panels again. 

“My apologies, I will leave you to your business.” He said and there was a slight shake to his voice.

“Cut the shit Aemond.” You say and he freezes. “Come back, I want to talk to you.” He didn’t move but you could see the top of his head. “I want to see the face of a man I might marry when I talk to him.”

“You’re not decent princess.”

“Oh stop being so honorable for 5 minutes please.” He heard the water move around. Aemond sighed before rounding the corner and revealing himself again. His breath hitched when he saw your figure, you sat facing him and the lack of bubbles gave him a clear view of your breasts. “Soak it in my prince, who knows how long it will be before you see me like this again.” 

Aemonds face turned pink at your words and suddenly his boots were the most interesting thing in the world.

“You stand strong but standing in the presence of a naked woman you shrink.” His fists squeezed. “Would you like to feel the touch of a woman?”

“What did you want to talk about my lady?” He says harshly, making you smirk. 

“I want to talk about our potential betrothal. Regardless of our choice, its clear this is dire enough that we need to get married but I will ask you , Aemond.” He looked up, this time his eye solely on your face. “Will you sleep with anyone else?”

“No, I will remain faithful to you during this as long as I receive the same from you. This isn’t Dorne.”

“I am aware, Aemond.” You frown. “I would like to get to know you though, maybe something good can come out of this.” His jaw tightened but it then relaxed.

“Of course, my lady.” 

“Y/n.” You say. “Call me by my name Aemond, we are going to get very close.”

“As you wish.” Aemonds hands went behind his back. 

“As much as I enjoy having you here, I'm sure they are close to bringing my things, so I can either make room in this tub for you or you best be on your way.” You say and grab the bar of soap and washcloth. “Or you can watch and just hide.” There was an amusing look on your face. 

He let out a ‘Hmm’ and gave you a small smile. 

“Another time, Y/n.” Your name rolled off his tongue so fluently. Aemond walked away until he made it to the door and shut it behind him. 

“You will be the death of me Aemond Targaryen.” And your hand dips into the water to find a home in between your legs.

-

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always greatly appreciated, they help me keep going!

[tamayakii]

a son for a son.

notes: I changed a thing or two of what happened in the show, basically putting Maelor in cause i still cant believe they didnt put him in it (same thing with Daeron) this can be read as a stand-alone fic or paired with the Their Angel series. pairings: Otto x reader (romantic), Helaena x reader (can be viewed as one sided or platonic) warnings: Otto & reader have a son, SPOILERS FOR HOTD S2;E1!!!

The candle light illuminates the room, flickering against the stone walls of your and Helaena’s chambers. You had moved into her living spaces the night that Aemond had come back from the Stormlands, a sick smirk upon his face as he waltz into the small council room.  

And when your husband had shown no remorse for your brother's actions, no sympathy for your dead nephew? You couldn’t stand to look at him, matter of fact, you couldn’t bear to look at anyone. The grief toppled upon the hatred you had towards everyone who had played a part in usurping your sister’s throne. 

The twins and Maelor were already asleep within their beds, and your own son blinks his big owl-ish eyes at you. He looked so much like his father, even at two years old, a little wisp of white tangled within his brown locks- almost emulating Otto’s salt and pepper hair.

“Why can’t I..?” Alerion fumbled over his words, tiny hands curling over the cotton blanket, trying to fight his heavy eyelids as they dropped low. Chuckling lightly as you brushed his hair aside, he was quite stubborn. Especially as bedtime neared and sleep hovered over him. “Because I said so, besides; don’t you want to play with your cousins on the morrow?” Your reasoning seemed to reach him, Alerion’s brown eyes slowly shutting as he murmured. Sighing, reaching around your back to unclasp your heavy necklaces, you couldn’t help but smile as your son unconsciously pulled the blanket closer. 

The recent days weighed heavily on you; the war was impending. With no word from Rhaenrya, Rhaenys and Meleys helping guard the gullet with the hundreds of Velaryon ships, war was going to burst like a bloated goat. 

Perhaps if you were more active in the small council, you would’ve stopped the rats that sat in those seats. Staring at the necklace as you set it down, dark jade glimmering in the light. Helaena’s soft reflection reflected in the deep sea of green. It hits the table with a soft thud.

As you hear steps incoming, you simply assumed it was Helaena. She always had a sense for when you were upset, coming to you like a doe, with her big purple eyes and soft face filled with worry. 

Or perhaps she came to take you to bed. Since your move, Helaena was delighted to have you close, and near-ordered that you sleep in the same bed, just as you did when she was a little girl. “Quiet! Quiet!” The voice made you turn around, and your gasp died in your throat. Fear laced through your veins like a snake coils around its prey, freezing your body like the north. 

A strange man holds a dagger to Helaena’s throat, her blood dripping over the steel. Her eyes were wide with fear. The man's eyes flicker over to you. “Move and I'll cut her throat.” He spits, slowly dragging the blade, causing more blood to leak. Nodding as the tears well in your eyes, heart beating against your rib cage. The blood roars in your ears like a thousand horses stampeding. 

Another man comes in, a bigger and scarier man, and your heart stops. 

“A son for a son.” His words were all muddled until he said those five words, a son for a son. Helaena offered her necklace to the men, trying to convince them to run off with its worth, but the bigger man snatched it from her. “It’s not a son.” He turns around and looks at the twins in their beds, sleeping ever so peacefully. Gently, you reached back for Alerion’s crib. Shaking hands gripping the wood with a grip tighter than death and yet you were too weak to fight these men off, in the past week and a half, you’ve neglected your meals within your grief and even if you didn’t, you’d sooner be dead on the stone floors of the Red Keep with your sons fate unknown. 

The men came to the realization that they did not know which twin was the boy, and for a brief moment you felt elated that perhaps they would give up their mission, but all hope vanished when Helaena pointed at Jaehaerys.

“Helaena..” You whisper, lips trembling and you can't help but feel bile come up your throat as the men storm to Jaehaerys, the bigger one covering his mouth, covering his scream. Helaena shakes as she makes a move to her daughter and youngest son, and you do the same.

As you hear the splatter of blood, a sob escapes your throat, your hands trembling as you hurriedly and carefully retrieve Alerion from his crib. Helaena runs out first, holding her children close to her and you’re not too long after her. 

Whilst Helaena makes a mad dash down the stairs, you run onward. Climbing up the other pair of stairs, Alerion stirs in your jumbling hold. Whining at the rude awakening and you try to shush him over your crying, 

“Shh.. shh.. Alerion,” The halls rushed past you as you ran, the skirt of your night-dress threatening to trip you. Only thoughts of protecting your own son ran through your frightened mind, fearing that perhaps he would be targeted too. 

The doors to Otto’s chambers slam open and a flurry of fabric and hair falls to the floor in sobs. The man looks at the sight bewildered, but soon he realizes it is you, his wife, that refused to look him in the eye. Surely, you had come to beg for forgiveness, having come to your senses. 

But as you look up at him, your son in your arms, cradling him like he was about to shatter- he knew something was wrong.

“They killed him.. They kill the boy!” 

[absurdthirst]

Serving the General {Marcus Acacius x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: Mentions of servants/slaves, mentions of war, mentions of blood/injuries, washing, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, rough sex, power imbalance, unprotected sex, cream pie, cum eating, oral sex (male and female receiving), analingus, anal fingering, cock riding, slight breast play, hurt/comfort

Comments: Coming back from battle, Roman general Marcus Acacius has you waiting for him. Serving him to clean his wounds and soothe his soul with your body.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Marcus Acacius MasterList ||

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.

The sounds of the battle are muted, the tent you are in is far from the front lines. Smoke from the fires being tended by servants and slaves alike is heavy in the air. You can almost forget the clashing of swords and the sounds of the catapults being launched against the fortified town. The clanking of steel and screams barely rise above the crackling of burning wood and the rustle of fabrics as men and women move throughout the camp. 

You aren’t rushed. The large cauldron in front of the tent has already been filled by others, hot and ready for when the general returns. If he returns. Your face doesn’t show the worry that you carry, the fear that one day the man that you are serving won’t return. 

The heavily carpeting floors of the tent are luxurious. The furniture better than some would have in their homes, carted from one encampment to another, providing comfort and a sense of home for the high ranking and lauded general. He has been honored by the emperor, by Rome, with servants and treasures, riches bought by the cleverness of his war tactics and the strength of his sword. 

The tub has been brought in, soaps and perfumes set out at the ready for his return. Wine and food will be brought in, other servants retreating so that you can care for the general in private, as was his custom after returning from battle. 

Waiting is the worst part. Pacing around the large tent, wearing the simple silk gown that he prefers you in. Your sandals are nothing more than a quiet whisper over the threads of the ornate fabric, hauled in from the east. The jewelry on your body displays your elevated status. You are not a slave and are more than a servant, but you are not a wife. You are Marcus Acacius’s mistress and his constant companion. 

Marcus grunts as he stumbles through the encampment towards his tent. He had suffered a few swipes and bruises during the battle but he emerged victorious. He is eager to sink into a bath before he sinks into you. You will be waiting and that makes his battle hard fought. He imagines coming back to you, your sweet, relieved smile, and he fights harder. He will kill whoever he needs to to make it back to you. He cannot marry you. You aren’t of his status. Below a plebeian, you are not eligible to marry but he keeps you by his side. Selfish, he supposes, but you’re his lifeline. Long ago he lost his first wife who died in childbirth along with his son and he vowed to never marry again. He enjoys your company and he loves you in his own way but he still mourns his childhood love. He locates his tent and pushes the linen aside to stumble inside, his eyes immediately finding you.

“Marcus!” You rush over to him, throwing your arms around him. When it is the two of you, you are allowed to be emotional, to show him how you feel. Sometimes you think that he prefers that over being in the company of others and having to hide your emotions. His arms around you are strong and exhausted, the battle long and brutal. You pull back and frown when you see a cut on his cheek, his temple, the blood of others on his skin mixed with the dirt and sweat. “Let me tend to you.” You coo, fingers reaching for the ties of his armor. His nod is weary and you don’t call for anyone to help you, wanting to serve him yourself. His wounds fussed over and cleaned by your hands and his aches and pains soothed by your body.

He nods, unable to pretend that he isn’t battle worn and exhausted. He wants to relinquish his body to your touch. You work diligently to remove his armor and he’s soon left in his bloodied tunic while you guide him over to the steaming bath. You remove his tunic and he’s not ashamed to be half hard, his body running on adrenaline and the idea of being inside you again. “Come on, General. Get in.” You demand softly and he hisses when he steps into the water. “Too hot?” You ask and he shakes his head, “no. No. I'm just - too old for this.” He sighs as he sits down in the water.

There is gray in his hair and lines on his face, but he is still strong and healthy. A lifetime of war has worn him down and you know that he is tired of the constant battle for lands that Rome seems to be fighting. “You will feel better once you are clean, well fed and fucked.” You murmur, reaching for the cup of wine you had poured and pressing it into his hand before you pick up the cloth and soap.

Marcus closes his eyes as you start to wash him, “every day more men die. Fathers, brothers, sons. There’s nothing I can do except battle onward for the Emperor’s orders. How many men must die at my hand?” He whispers, hating how torn he is while fulfilling the oath he made to the emperor.

You understand the frustrations that Marcus feels. He sees the death and destruction that war has wrought, the emperor only seeing the glory of Rome in the crimson red of the blood spilt. The cloth swipes away the dirt and washes the blood clean, but you know that it will continue to stain his soul. Every bite of his sword into flesh weighing heavily on his mind and heart. “As many as it takes for you to live.” You murmur softly, keeping your touch gentle when you see a bruise near his ribs where his armor had saved his life. “You save your men with your tactics and your presence in battle beside them. If you were to fall, the army of Rome would suffer.” 

Marcus knows that what you are saying is correct but he can’t help but feel hopeless as he tries to reconcile the losses on the battlefield, knowing he will be delivering the news of their deaths to their families upon arrival back in Rome. “And the Emperor would fall.” He whispers, knowing that even saying that is blasphemy.

You don’t say anything, knowing that you shouldn’t have even heard those words being spoken from his lips. You move to his face and carefully clean up the cuts, blowing on the wounds when he winces. “Drink your wine.” You urge him. “I will refill your cup when it’s dry.” 

He grabs the goblet, taking a large gulp of wine and he hisses when you rub into his neck where he has his worst injury. “Nearly chopped my fucking head off but I managed to dodge it.” He admits nonchalantly like the violence doesn’t bother him anymore.

You want to lean in to kiss the wound, but it will need to be sewn up first but it can wait for now. “You are lucky that it did not end up that way.” You wring out the water and dab at it again. “I will get it closed for you and the paste put on it after you rest.” You promise, even though you know that he doesn’t care about scars. A lifetime as a soldier, his body is a roadmap of battles and injuries. 

He downs the rest of his wine, setting the goblet down as he looks at you with those dark eyes. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you. “Have I told you how beautiful you look?” He asks softly, wanting a moment to let you know how much he appreciates you.

Your eyes slide down, slightly embarrassed by his words. You know that he desires you, every time he touches you it’s with a rough devotion. He brands you with his touch. You look back up to find him watching you still. “I always want to please you.” You murmur softly. 

Marcus tuts, reaching up with wet fingers to grip your chin. “It’s not all about pleasing me. I want to please you. I wish I could give you more. Give you all of me but there are pieces that are lost. I no longer own those pieces to give to you.” He confesses like you don’t know this. “And society-” You add but he scoffs, “fuck society. Noblemen still die. No one is above the gods. I do not care about society. I simply wish to protect you.” He admits, “if I die…” He says and you open your mouth but his dark look stops you from speaking. “If I die, you must return to Rome. Atticus promises me he will make sure you return unharmed and there you will find my domus and you will remain there with my coin until the day we are joined in death.”

You don’t want to think about a life without him. You have been with Marcus for too many years. Your heart belongs to him. “I think that if you were to die, I would follow not too long behind you.” You admit softly, reaching out to cover his heart with your hand. “My heart is yours, just like my body.” You know that he cares for you, he has made that obvious even if he could not give you everything. 

Marcus offers you a rare smile, one that is only reserved for you, and his heart thumps when you assure him that you love him, that you are his. “Even so, I want to make sure you are protected and looked after in my absence.” He says as he reaches for your hand and presses a soft kiss to the back of it. “Wash me, mea columba.” He orders, wanting to wash the battle from his skin.

You nod, picking up the rag again and and you are thorough, washing his feet and then sliding the cloth up his thighs. “You survived.” You remind him, biting your lip as your fingers inch up. You know that he is half hard under the water, already thinking about how he is going to take you. He always does, after every battle, he comes back to this tent and works out the rest of his adrenaline on your body, leaving you a sweaty, cum filled mess on his bed. “Now you get the spoils of war.”

He chuckles, reaching for the decanter of wine to pour himself another glass. “You are my spoils of war? My gold? My treasure?” He smirks as your fingers trail up his thigh while you wash him. “Corculum.” He murmurs, watching you with rapture as you lean over the tub, “I want you.”

“You have me.” You promise him, leaning back and reaching for the gold hoop that holds up the delicate folds of your silk dress. It’s an ingenious design, slip the hoop from around your neck and the front of your dress falls, revealing your tits to him. You stand and let the dress fall to the floor and are completely naked under the thin dress. 

Marcus’s eyes trail along your body. You take his breath away every time he sees your figure. “Bella.” He murmurs, calling you beautiful. He wonders sometimes how he is worthy of touching you after his hands have taken so many lives. “Let me finish washing. I want to be clean when I’m inside you.” He declares, reaching for the cloth.

You watch him just as eagerly as he had watched you. Water cascading down his broad body as he stands to wash his cock. Watching him harden under your gaze and you know that he is eager to take you. “Bella.” you murmur softly, repeating the same endearment. While you can never call Marcus yours in any kind of social setting, you know that the general seeks out your company above those that would gladly throw themselves at the powerful man. 

He washes quickly, making sure he is clean, and he steps out of the tub. Water dripping from his body as his cock throbs for you. He wastes no time reaching for your body, pulling you up against him as he surges forward to crash his lips to yours.

A man of Marcus’s experience has a strong appetite. For food and wine, for sex. He knows exactly how he wants to pleasure you and take his pleasure from you. You give in to him and melt under the force of his lips, wrapping your arms around him and moaning when he picks you up and carries you the few steps to the bed to lay you down. 

He cannot be soft now. He will be later when he's fucked the adrenaline out but for now, he slides his fingers through your cunt. Pleased when he finds you wet enough to take him, and he positions his cock to push into you in one thrust, his body covering yours.

Your cry is silent, mouth open on a scream that could not be heard. Cunt clenching down around him while your fingernails dig into the meat of his shoulders. Filled with him until you cannot think of anything else but the way that his cock drills into you. “Marcus.” You gasp out when you finally catch your breath. 

Your gasps makes him smirk and he grabs your wrists, keeping them together in one of his large hands so he can keep you still. He starts to rock into you, a harsh pace, unrelenting and unwilling to give you time to breathe when he so desperately needs to assure himself that he is alive.

You love the way he needs you. Driving into you again and again with sharp snaps of his hips. You take it, every thrust that has you gasping and moaning. Your body trembling under the force of his need. He needs more, he needs everything and you whimper his name again and again, watching the way his jaw clenches and tights above you. 

He grunts as he pushes into you over and over. He's relentless, wanting to lose himself in you. An orgasm is the only time his mind goes blank. He doesn't get drunk enough to forget the cries of the men he has killed. He squeezes your wrists in his hand as he rams into you. "Fuck you are so tight." He hisses, bending down to bite on your neck.

You shiver when he bites down on your flesh, moaning as he fucks you. The bed groans and sways under the force of his thrusts. “Marc- Marcus.” You pant out raggedly, pushing your legs up on his hips, and wanting more from him. You turn your head, kissing his temple over and over again. “I love you.” 

He can't say it back, the memory of his wife and child haunting him so much that he could never allow himself to love again, but with you...he is close to that feeling. He grunts out a soft noise, pushing into you and feeling your body absorb the brunt of his thrusts. "Shit." He hisses, getting closer and the adrenaline surges as he pants out your name.

He never says the words, but you don’t take offense. You know about his wife, his child that he had lost. The pain and suffering that he endured until you had come into his life. Becoming his comfort. “Yes.” You whimper. “I -” You cry out, stiffening underneath him as your body lights up in pleasure, driven to that peak by the rough way he loves you. 

He hisses when you clamp down on his cock, making him struggle to push into you but he manages, thrusting a half dozen more times until he’s spilling against your walls. “Fuckkkk.” He pants, closing his eyes as he rests his forehead on yours, his mind blissfully blank.

You whimper his name, rocking your hips as he slows his thrusts until he collapses into you. Lifting a leg up over his hips, you hold him closer even as he holds your hands. He will release you when he’s ready and you can stroke and soothe his skin for the rest of the night if that is your wish. “My general.” You murmur softly. 

Your voice soothes him, keeps the horrors of his mind at bay. He breathes in the oils you bathe yourself in and he presses a soft kiss to your neck, letting you know how he feels about you without saying a word. You hum, running your fingers through his hair and he grunts, letting go of your wrists. He shifts rolling over so you are on top of him and his soft cock slips out of you. “Sit on my face, corculum.” He orders, wanting to hear your cries of his name.

He is greedy tonight. You know that he doesn't care that his seed drips out of your cunt, wanting to indulge in his pleasures. He is filthy when he wants to prolong the night and make your voice hoarse with crying out his name. The soldiers around his tent will hear every scream and cry, smirking when you emerge from the tent in the morning and carrying tales of their general’s virility to the campfires as they boast as if it was their own cock being used. Leaning down, you press your lips to his before your thighs frame his head and you wait for the first swipe of his tongue. 

He groans at the creamy mess he’s left between your thighs and he hisses, lifting his head so he can slide his tongue through your folds. He’s desperate to make you cum for him on his tongue. His calloused hands grab your ass to pull you down onto his face, wanting to be suffocated by you.

The first gasp of his name is loud, your hips rolling at the gentle pressure of his hands on your ass. Dragging your cunt over his face, his beard becoming drenched in a mixture of your juices and his moans of pleasure being absorbed into your body. Marcus has always been a very giving lover, wanting to hear your cries of pleasure to drown out the screams of pain and death that echo in his ears. “Marcus!” 

Your scream makes his soft cock twitch and he works his tongue inside you, his nose pressed against your clit. He groans at the way you grind down onto his mouth and he closes his eyes, absorbing your taste and your sounds to memory for when you eventually come to your senses and leave him.

You rock back on his face, your head tilted towards the sky and your hands sliding up to cup your breasts. His hands squeeze your ass, making you moan as you move. It’s indulgent and wicked, your body already slick with sweat as he devours you from below. “General,” you whimper. “You are so good at making me shake.” 

He loves hearing your praise and he laps at you like a dog, messy and uncaring as he desperately seeks your orgasm on his tongue. He wants to hear you scream his name again.

You grab on to one of the tent poles by the bed, hanging onto it as you ride your general’s face. His tongue pushed deep inside you. Glancing back, you see that his cock is still not hard again, so if you cum, he will seek another orgasm from you until he’s recovered. “Gods!” You squeal when he pulls his tongue out of your cunt and sucks your clit into his mouth. “Marcus!”

Your squeal of pleasure makes him hum with contentment and he groans against your clit when you roll your hips, chasing your pleasure, to extend it. He caresses your ass when you are still on top of him and he grabs you, shifting you until you are kneeling on the bed. "Going to make sure every bastard outside this tent knows who is making you cum like this." He hisses as he kneels behind you and bends over to slide his tongue through your sensitive folds until he is circling his tongue around your puckered hole.

Marcus has used every hole you possess, not allowing you to keep any part of yourself from him. You gasp out, but he just holds your hips firm in his large hands as he tastes you. You can and will let him do anything he wants, knowing that he is used to getting his way. He loves pushing you, making you wanton for him. “I- your tongue.” You moan, dropping down to press your face to the bed.

He grunts into your ass, loving the way you grind back onto him and he presses his thumb against the slick puckered hole as he slides his tongue back into your pussy, wanting to taste you again.

Your toes curl when he breeches the ring of muscles with his thumb, moaning like a whore while his tongue curls inside you. Eyes closing as you let him do what he wants. “I- I want to suck your cock.” You pant out. “Make- make you feel good.”

“Not yet.” He rasps as he pulls back from your cunt for a moment. “Going to make you scream my name all night.” He promises and dives back in, lowering his head in an awkward angle so he can suck on your clit. Every injury he endured is in the back of his mind as he focuses on you and how you taste.

He should be relaxing, letting you take charge of his pleasure, but that is not the kind of man Marcus is. He leads his men to their deaths and now, he pushes you towards orgasm. His hands are always engaged. His mind focused on nothing else but accomplishing his task, whether it is one he sets for himself or handed down from his emperor.

He sucks on your clit for a while until he’s dragging his tongue back through your folds, his thumb now pushed into your ass and he works it in and out, loving your sweet cries of pleasure but he wants to hear you fall apart for him.

Your gasp of his name is all you can manage. Your body rocking from the force of his thrusts of the thumb into your puckered hole. Cheek smooshed against the soft blankets, you feel your entire core start to tighten with that familiar draw. “Marcus- you, I’m going to -“ you babble, so close to the edge that you feel as if you are going mad.

He groans into your wet flesh when you babble, wanting you to cum for him. He ducks down to suck on your clit and that sends you over the edge. You cry out and he smirks around your bundle of nerves as you cum for him again.

You don’t hide your sounds. Making sure that your cries aren’t muffled in the least. The men near Marcus’s tent will know how talented their general is.

He loves that you let his men hear you, hear how he’s pleasuring you. He’s groaning and working you through it before he withdraws his thumb and playfully bites down on your ass. He’s half hard as he flops to lay down on the bed beside you.

You moan and quickly cover his chest to kiss his lips. “Let me pleasure you now.” You murmur, kissing his jaw and then down his chest. “Celebrate my general’s win by sucking his cock and then riding him until he cums.”

He groans when you take his cock into your mouth, hardening in your mouth as he watches you with dark eyes. “Fuck.” He hisses as you watch him as you take him deeper. “You are so good for me.” He murmurs in awe.

You would pull off his cock and tell him that he deserves everything good, but he would never believe you. Regret weighs him down with the mantle of responsibility so you try to ease his burdens or make him forget about them. You hum around his shaft and hold his hips while you work him deeper with every bob of your head.

He bites his lip after he curses again. Your mouth is his Elysian Fields. His heaven. The thing he thinks about when he’s in the baths alone when he’s in Rome. “Fuck.” He reaches down to caress your cheek, loving the way you are covered in jewels he bought you to claim you in the only way he can.

You lean into his touch, humming happily as his thighs tense and tighten. You slide your hand up to wrap around the base, squeezing it and pumping it as you work the head of his cock. Swallowing around his shaft makes him bite out another curse. You love when he lets you pleasure him, your cunt clenching around nothing.

“I don’t want to spill inside you.” He warns you, wanting to have you ride him just as you promised. He taps your cheek, knowing you’ll spend all night sucking his cock if he lets you but he desperately wants you to ride him so he can watch you cum again.

You pout slightly as you pull off his cock, the thin strands of your saliva keeping you connected until it breaks. “You do want to spill inside me, just not my mouth.” You tease, holding his cock and keeping the foreskin rolled down as you move to straddle his hips. “My general.” You coo as you line up and sink down on his length.

He watches you with the same concentration he applies during battle. Focused on where he disappears inside you with ease and he hisses when your wet walls grip him. “I want you to take what you want, amica mea.” He demands, his hands finding your hips to squeeze the flesh.

You love when you ride him, when you get to set the pace and rock your hips as you take him deeper. Marcus lays under you, his back cushioned against the bed and you lean forward to let your breasts sway in his face as you roll your hips and squeeze him tight inside your body.

He slides one hand down to squeeze your ass and the other sliding up to squeeze your breast. He loves the way you rock your hips, your cries of pleasure making him twitch inside you. "Fuck, that's it. Look so beautiful." He murmurs, looking up at you before he surges up to take your nipple into his mouth.

The sounds of the camp around you are audible, but all you can concentrate on is the feeling of his mouth on your breast, suckling on your nipple. “Marc!” You moan, pushing your hips back a little harder as you slam down on his cock.

He bites down on the bud and he slaps your ass cheek, loving the way you moan his name for the whole of the fucking Empire to hear who is making you feel like this. "That's it." He growls, kissing your sternum.

Marcus Acacius is a fierce soldier and general, just like he is a fierce lover. Your body responds to his touch like a wildfire is spreading in your blood. Making your hips speed up and you bounce faster on his cock, riding him like you would his giant war horse if you were trying to outrun a barrage of arrows. “Marcus- I- Marcus!” You scream out, body stiffening in pleasure as you start to cum.

When you clamp down on his cock, he hisses at how fucking tight you get, and you collapse forward onto his chest. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." He grunts, wrapping his arms around you, thrusting up into you. He works you through your orgasm and loves the way your wails continue as you ride your high.

Turning your head, you press your lips to his skin, kissing his shoulder and up his neck. “I love you.” You moan softly. He won’t return the sentiment, he can’t, but you can say it for the both of you. “Cum for me.” You urge softly. “Fill me up.”

He wants to hold off again but your cunt is squeezing him and you are kissing his neck. "Fuck, amor." He lets his emotion slip as he thrusts up into you until he is pulsing, painting your walls with his seed.

You whine softly, loving the feeling of warmth as he floods your womb. Kissing his pulse and panting against his skin. “You are perfect.” You praise him. “The gods have blessed me when they gave me to you.”

He grunts as you shower him with sweet words and for a moment, he wishes he was a simpler man. A plebeian who could marry you and bring you into daylight, but he can’t. You are his mistress and you are hidden in the shadows because of who he is, what he is. His hands caress your sides as he relaxes beneath you, body aching now the adrenaline has worn off.

“Sleep.” You coo, feeling his breathing start to slow down. His body is slipping into the boneless exhaustion. He will need to eat, but he can rest for now and you will take care of whatever he needs when he wakes. The general has fought hard today and deserves the comforts you can afford him. You kiss his chin and then his lips. “Sleep, my love.” You urge him softly. “Roman glory can wait.”

[kakiastro]

Astrology Observations and notes of all things Cancer related

This how cancers act when they’re home alone😅, just vibes and music😅

In honor of Cancer season, If you have Cancer, 4h, dominate Moon aspects placements, this post is for you !

-besides Crabs, other animals such as Elephants, Wolves and Bears are also ruled by the moon

-cancers are known as the nurturing sign and they most definitely can be, however, they struggle with being feeling vulnerable. Due to their sweet aura, they attract all kinds of people but it takes a lot for them to come out their shell.

-Cancer energy can also be very cold when they get angry. I know they are known as being “cry babies” but from what I’ve researched and seen, they can turn cold like sub zero, they turn into their sister sign capricorns(dark side of cap) 😭🤚🏽 they have the memory of an elephant, they’ll remember what you did to them forever in this lifetime and the next 50😭

- people who have Mars Cancer do NOT play when it comes to protecting their family members. Their anger is down right terrifying because how sweet and naive they appear. Oh no, they turn full on gangsta if you hurt anyone they love. 🤺

- I noticed you all are named after someone in your family or you get told that you act like a certain family member. You may be named after a women in your family or get told you act like her in someway

-motherhood may be a big theme in your life. This can include your own mother, friends who are mothers, working with mothers. Even if you don’t want or have kids, motherhood is still apart of your life somehow. Maybe being a mother to your own mother, the mom friend, the cool auntie that gives off mom vibes, mom to your siblings.

-Moon/Neptune aspects may struggle with fog memory. They can remember the big things in their life but have trouble with the small events. Taking pictures or journaling can help with this. I also notice they have these random moments where they remember the most random things at random times😅

-Moon/Sun aspects have such a powerful energy about them. You really light the room

-Cancer rising either have a face shaped like 🌝 or like🌛

- speaking of Cancer risings, them dimples! They deep like the moon craters

- acne problems, it’s even worse during adolescence but it does get better as you get older but you may occasionally break out. I also notice you guys have oily skin.

- Venus Cancer loves them a home cooked meal. They’re the type to go home to their mom or grandma for dinner. They may have a family recipe that’s passed down to them or they create one and pass it down to there kids

-they have a hard time with letting material things go especially if it’s sentimental to them. To the outside world it’s junk but to them it’s treasure. I get it tall I do lol

- Moon 11h attract a lot women as friend groups. Strangers may feel too comfortable with telling their personal business unprovoked

- leader of the family, it doesn’t matter what your role is, you are the one that holds the family together, people may be heavily dependent on you especially emotionally. You may be the first person in your family to accomplish something big.

-Cancer Suns may be the firstborn or firstborn daughter or son(not always). They are born during a time when their parents were especially father was ready to settle down and start a family. They could be born during a time where the family was going through some sort of emotional event and you were the fresh start. Will either feel more emotionally connected or feel disconnected due to trying to live up to his efforts and family ideals.

-Cancer moon feel a deep connection to their mothers theses are the type of children that will live with their mom into adulthood. Even if they move out, they calling they momma lol. Maybe very dependent emotionally on mom. If they don’t have a good relationship with mom, they will get will partners who can feel that void. It’s a lot harder for men with this placement.

-Moon/Jupiter comes from families with such strong belief systems and ideals. They carry these ideals into adulthood, it may be hard to break away from them. They may have a belief that they family viewpoint is everyone’s. They have to leave there nest and see the world for themselves and realize their family viewpoint may be short sighted. This can be triggering because you wonder what else were you not accurately taught.

-if you have 28°, that’s matriarch energy

-have you noticed Cancer starts in June which is the 6th month. 6 in astrology is ruled by Virgo. Summer months are chaotic because your starting a new routine for the season lol

-it’s also interesting that Cancer is the start of Summer season. All the kids is out of school and at home. This is one of the rare times of the year where families are vacationing and spending time together. Visiting other cities and countries. Cancer literally rules home countries and cities y’all lol

I’ll stop here but happy Cancer season and birthday Cancers

[asumi2020202]

Was I truly that Bad?

Pairing: Dad!Daemon x reader

Summary: Whilst fulfilling the wishes of his Queen, Daemon accidentally hurt you beyond repair. He regretted it till death.

A/n: This idea just recently popped up in my head. So I wrote it down hehe. Anyways, this will have the ending same as Helaena's. Thank you for reading.

Note:

There are some changes in the storyline.

It is short, I don't really know if I like it.

____________________________ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ_____

All throughout the realm, you were the only one acknowledged as a true born child of Rhaenyra. You had silky white hair, and violet eyes like you mother and... Father

Rhaenyra had a you in secret. You were conceived after the birth of Jace but before the birth of Luke. Everyone knew you were Daemon's daughter since his affection was not really secretive.

You were offered to Aemond Targaryen to 'fix' the rift between the family much to your father's dislike.

The Hell broke loose when Luke died because of your husband and his dragon.

You had a son with Aemond. He was the only light you had after receiving the news of Aegon's coronation.

Aemond tried to be there for you when Aegon said that you would not leave your room. He wanted to keep you hostage knowing you were the Queen and King consort's daughter.

_________________________________________

"He has white hair and one eye. Should be easy enough to find." Daemon spoke.

The man before him stayed silent for a second before replying "What if we can't find him?".

Daemon only looked him in eye before giving further information.

_________________________________________

You were in the nursery, singing to you child when suddenly someone entered.

You thought it was a maid or Aemond. So you turned around only to find a rat catcher.

You were going to scream but he put his dagger on your throat before you could. You son was still in your arms.

The rat catcher smirked as another man entered.

"Who's she?" The other man asked.

"She's the Queen she is." Replied the rat catcher in a whispering manner.

"A son.. for a son he said."

"I know but look in her arms. That's the prince's son."

The rat catcher released your throat before saying " we ain't here to hurt ya. We only want the boy."

You looked visibly shocked and fear stricken.

"I have a necklace..... It is of great value." You spoke as you tried to removed it with one hand. The taller man tore it off you neck before saying "thats not a son."

"Kill me please. I beg you don't hurt my child." By now you were already crying. The rat catcher forcefully took your son from your hands.

In front of your very eyes you saw your little boy's head getting separated. The men hastily put his head inside a bag before leaving.

You started to sob heavily. Having difficulties breathing.

Aemond barged through the room after he heard your screams and wails. Alicent, Aegon and Otto were present too. Alicent wanted to throw up.

Aegon was sad. He always did love you. He wanted your mother to betroth you to him but he was already betrothed to Helaena. Now that he saw you like this, desperately trying to wipe the blood that oozed out of your son's body, he felt hurt too.

From that day forth, you didn't eat, sleep or even bathe. You were completely dead inside. More so when you got to know that the one who sent them was your father. Grief blinded you.

_________________________________________

The green council had decided to send you and the Dowager Queen to the funeral after they caught one of the perpetrator.

The people tried to reach for you as they saw your son, Baelor's body. The way the 1 year old boy's head was stitched with his neck.

The cart which held your son's body fell in a hole in the road. People tried to approach you and touch you, giving their condolences. You desperately clutched on Alicent's cloth as she tried to help you through your panic attack.

You couldn't hear anything. Only a ringing in your ear as you knelt in your and the Dowager Queen's cart. The last thing you heard was

"A curse! A curse on Rhaenyra the Monstrous!"

Someone cursed your mother. Soon all went black as your vision faded.

_________________________________________

"How could you do this Daemon?! To our sweet child!" Rhaenyra shouted, fury and sorrow flooding through.

"I told them specifically for Aemond. Shes my daughter as well, I know I did wrong. It was a mistake.

I was there that day. The day she was forced to attend the funeral. I am hurt as well knowing my daughter lost her son!" Daemon replied.

"You will never understand what a mother feels when she loses her child. My little girl lost her only child. Alicent reached out to me in secret! She told me that my girl is not even eating properly! She's down with a heavy fever..." Rhaenyra argued. She was crying.

Daemon had made a grave mistake. He never wanted to hurt you. He never meant for his grandchild to die. Right in front of your eyes. He wanted to kill Aemond for Luke's death, yes. But he wanted to kill Aemond so you could be free. So you could come back to your family. He never wanted to bring you pain. You were his daughter, his little zaldrīzes.

________________________________________

The black council was going on and on with what move they should play. Rhaenyra was getting frustrated.

Rhaenyra's personal maid, Elinda came in. She bowed before all, her eyes watering. As Rhaenyra was going to ask her what happened she said

"The princess is dead." All stopped. Everything and everyone silent. Rhaenyra stood still.

"A raven came in just n-now.... It said that Princess y/n jumped off of her window. H-her body was stabbed by Maegor's blades...." Elinda cried as she said. Leaving the room quickly.

The lords all left the council. Only Rhaena, Baela, Jacaerys, Daemon, Rhaenyra and Rhaenys were there.

Daemon couldn't comprehend anything. Her daughter..... Dead? No she wouldn't do that. A dragon's flame cannot be extinguished so easily.

Rhaenyra fell on the floor as Rhaenys supported her. She felt fury. But all she could do was cry. Her sweet girl. Her little Y/n. It was as if only yesterday she was tugging on her skirt and now she's....... dead.....

Jacaerys didn't know what to do. His little sister was dead. Consumed by the grief of the death of his nephew. First he lost Luke now y/n...

Baela and Rhaena cried that entire day. Blaming themselves for not protecting you as elder sisters should.

_________________________________________

Daemon was going to Harrenhal. As he was about to mount Caraxes, as guard came in and handed him something.....

....it was a necklace..... The same one he had given you. He felt a tear fall down his cheek. His heart hurt. So much. Yet he couldn't express it.

_________________________________________

Daemon had conquered Harrenhal. He was walking inside his leaking room when he heard his door being violently knocked on.

After picking up his sword, he carefully came down the stairs outside his room. He found a room.

He saw a figure humming while sitting infront of the fireplace.

As he got closer, the figure spoke to him

"I'm a bad child aren't i? You hate me. I always disobeyed everyone. But I only did so to be with you." It was you. His eyes watered. You were wearing the necklace he gave you.

He shook his head no. He didn't hate you because you disobeyed. He loved you for it.

"Why did you punish me so much ? Was I truly that Bad...... Kepã?" He heard you say as he got closer. He saw you stitching your son's head while crying.

His sword fell from his hand as he woke up. He opened his eyes to see a tree. He turned around and saw a woman.

_________________________________________

It was tough. But he did it anyway. He jumped off of Caraxes and landed on Vhagar.

Gripping the Dark Sister tight in his hand, he stabbed it straight through Aemond's right eye.

He saw as Aemond fall in the water. He stumbled as he fell off. Caraxes took Vhagar inside the water.

As Daemon slowly fell from the sky , all he could think about was you.

How he wished he could watch you grow. You were only seven and ten. To young to die.

Before his eyes flashed all the times that you ran away from your septa and hid behind his legs.

The little infant wouldn't stop crying until she was in his arms.

The little toddler first took her steps only to hug her father as he picked her up.

His little y/n. The one who died because of his one mistake.

His eyes were getting blurry and all he saw before he fell in the water was your face, the same face from his dream. Crying. Stitching his grandson's head.

He clutched your necklace tight in his arms as tears gathered in his eyes. His eyes were shut tight. And as he cried...

He repeatedly heard you cry and say

"Was I truly that Bad.............kepã?"

-Lillian

[junkissed]

leaning on the everlasting arms

member — childhood best friend! pastor's son!joshua x f reader genre — angst, smut, some fluff, bible college au word count — 10.3k (my first fic over 10k wowie!!) synopsis — as kids growing up in the same church, you and joshua were inseperable, until you got to an age where it was considered immoral for girls and boys to be friends. when you find him again just before graduation, he's different than you remember; but so are you. content warnings — female reader, she/her, reader is implied to be smaller (i'm sorry), discussion of gender roles & religion, no religion is mentioned by name but it's heavily implied to be a form of christianity, reader & shua are both seniors in college, reader wears skirts/dresses but not really by choice, this whole thing is pretty blasphemous oops smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, virgin!joshua x virgin!reader, mutual masturbation, phone sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (reader receiving), hints of a voice kink, size kink, praise, begging, really vanilla missionary but it's hot, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, angel) notes — although i am no longer religious, this is partially based off of my own experiences with the extremely traditional christian church i was raised in. however, please keep in mind that this is fiction and does not reflect my beliefs nor joshua's beliefs so don't take the plot too seriously. this piece is not meant to discuss whether certain religions are "right" or "wrong" so please do not comment/send me asks trying to start a debate! we're all just here for a little sexy time with shua it's not that deep note #2 — for those who aren't familiar, the title is the name of a hymn and i thought it was funny bc joshua big sexy arms hehehe

as far back as you could remember, joshua was your closest friend.

his father was the pastor of the church your family went to, and as luck would have it you were both in the same grade, so it wasn’t long before you became inseparable. you saw him at minimum three times a week: sunday morning, sunday evening, wednesday evening.

you spent most of your childhood together. sitting next to each other at every service, sharing your bibles with each other whenever one of you left them at home, sneaking donuts away from the box at the table outside the sermon hall that was supposed to only be for the adults.

you did everything together, and told each other everything. that is, until you reached middle school. boys and girls weren’t allowed to sit in the same services anymore, and you had to stay in separate buildings for every church camp and conference. 

the worst part was you didn’t even understand why. what did they think you were gonna do with him? kiss him? no amount of money in the world could get you to do that! joshua was your best friend. who else were you supposed to climb trees and build forts and sneak donuts with? kissing was stupid.

when you asked your mom about it, she told you the same thing everyone else did: about how men of god had a different path and needed to hear different messages in order to grow up to lead their own churches one day. you thought it was stupid. what if a woman wanted to lead a church, why are men the ones that have to do it? but she would just shake her head and tell you it's just the way things work in the church, you'll understand when you're older.

you were allowed near him less and less until the only time you were able to see him was at the after-service brunch with his family, and even then that began to happen less and less as the years went on.

and of course it was church rules, so there was no arguing with them because that would mean arguing with god, and who were you to question his authority? there would be no special exception for you, no matter how much you protested to your mom that you would never, ever think about joshua like that. in a fit of anger one day you blew up at her, shouting that she had had friends of the opposite gender when she was in high school, so why couldn’t you? it wasn’t fair. but she had just sighed and stared out the window, clearly ending the conversation. many years passed before she finally told you about her life before she came to church, recalling all the times she had been hurt by men she had loved and trusted. you understood then why she had wanted to keep you sheltered and safe, but you still didn’t agree. but then again, if you had been allowed to do what you wanted then maybe things would never have ended up the way they did. perhaps you have her to thank.

back then, all you could do was hold on to the little time you had with him until eventually you stopped seeing him altogether. 

more summers passed and you started spending all of your time memorizing bible verses with your fellow “women of christ”, missing the way you used to spend your time with your best friend.

but then you went off to bible college like had always been planned for you, and everything changed. instead of continuing to follow the strict schedule that was laid out for you, you finally got a little taste of freedom, and you realized what you’d been missing all this time. everything that you’d been taught was sinful, evil, wicked, was what brought you more pleasure than you’d ever known was possible.

you still had to pretend to be a good girl for the people around you, who, for reasons you couldn’t comprehend, were still dedicated to their life of purity. or at least they acted like it. maybe everyone was secretly just like you, hiding their sins behind a friendly smile and a firm handshake every sunday morning.

you weren’t hurting anyone with the things you did in private, and the feeling of rebellion was a kind of satisfaction you didn’t know you were allowed to feel. you were an adult, making your own choices now and facing whatever consequences that came with them.

there was only one consequence. for some reason, all the impure thoughts you had always centered around joshua. no matter what dirty books you read or videos you watched, the man you always pictured giving it to you was joshua.

you hated that after all these years, everything still came back to him. you fought it, tried imagining actors or celebrities in his place instead; characters from your books and movies and shows, anyone but him. you wanted to save whatever memories you had left of him, think of him in a good light like you used to when you were younger, but the way he plagued your mind was worse than the ones in the book of exodus.

but now, in your final year of college, you thought you had finally gotten yourself under control.

that is, until you were leaving one of your bible lectures and all the control you’d convinced yourself that you had crumbled away in mere seconds when you saw a startlingly familiar face standing by the door. a face you hadn’t seen in far too long. 

“joshua?”

“hey,” he says with a smile, like no time has passed at all. like it’s been hours since you’ve seen each other, not years. 

there are so many things you want to say, so many things you want to ask him, but you’re frozen in place. why is he here? where has he been? how did he find you again?

“it’s been a while,” he says with an awkward laugh when you don’t say anything.

you nod, still in a daze. “yeah. quite a while.”

he smiles. “well, anyway, i’ve got a meeting to go to in a bit, but… i just wanted to see you.”

“oh,” you say. what else is there to say? what can you say to make up for the years lost that you’ll never get back?

he looks at his watch, the conversation clearly coming to an end.

“can i give you my phone number?” he says. a deep shade of pink creeps into his cheeks but he either doesn’t notice or purposely doesn’t acknowledge it. “maybe we can talk sometime, catch up.”

“i– yeah,” you manage. god, it’s so good seeing him again. “yeah, that would be really nice.”

you’ve given up on homework for the night, spending your entire afternoon in a daze since you ran into joshua.

so many years, yet you still can’t get his smile out of your head.

you close your eyes, hand dipping below the waistband of your pajama pants automatically. it’s frightening how easily you’re able to bring up a picture of him in your mind, so much clearer than before now that you’ve seen what he looks like all grown up.

and grown up, he has. you had been too stunned to get a good look at him while he was in front of you, but the way he’d changed was immediately apparent and the image in your brain now feels almost unreal. 

his hair was a little longer and a little darker, and he was much taller, with broad shoulders that looked way too perfect in a suit jacket. but his face hadn’t changed a bit. maybe his jaw was a little bit sharper and his smile lines were a little bit deeper, but his eyes were the same ones you had always known. 

your hand slips lower and lower until you’re gently running the tips of your fingers over the panel of your underwear covering your pussy, moaning quietly when you feel how wet you are already.

no wonder it’s been so hard for you to focus all day. you’ve been too busy pushing away thoughts of joshua burying his fingers in your tight, wet cunt, cooing about how good you’re being for him and how long he’s waited for you.

automatically you feel your other hand grabbing for your phone, desperate to hear his voice again. you hadn’t said more than a few sentences to him earlier, but you feel like you’ll go crazy if you don’t hear him while you’re in this state. so needy for him and only him, and he doesn’t even know it.

your fingers shake as you press the buttons, knowing you’re about to get yourself into a whole world of trouble but not being able to stop yourself.

“hey.” he answers on the second ring. his tone is deep and husky, and your breath catches in your throat for a second, not used to hearing him talk like that; the last time you heard his voice was long before puberty, and you’re still navigating how to talk to this older, sexier joshua.

your first thought is to wonder if his morning voice sounds equally as sexy, but you’re immediately pushing it out of your head when you hear what sounds like him stifling a yawn.

“sorry, did i wake you? it– it’s not important,” you start, ashamed of how needy you are that you’d call him in the middle of the damn night, unprovoked, like some kind of bible group booty call.

the regret is already starting to set in. he probably hasn’t changed as much as you've built him up in your mind, probably still the obedient gentleman he was before. he’s probably already well on his way to being the head of a church, so of course he wouldn’t be thinking about you like that—

“no. it’s fine,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. “always have time for you, sweetheart. what’s up?”

you shove down the butterflies that flutter up in your stomach at the name he calls you, a nickname he always called you when you were kids because he was taught it was always polite to talk sweet to a lady. 

except it feels so much different now. talking sweet to a lady as kids was easy, innocent. but one wrong word now would completely change the meaning behind those pretty words of his, and you aren’t sure how to feel about it.

“i… just– it’s been so long, joshie,” you whisper, surprised at the sudden feeling of tears springing up behind your eyes. you didn’t mean for this to happen— you didn’t mean for any of it to happen. not back then, and certainly not now.

he lets the line go quiet, finally sighing into the phone after a long pause. “i missed you… so much.” he murmurs your name, and the way the rumble in his voice goes straight through you immediately reminds you why you called him in the first place.

your free hand toys with the hem of your underwear again, fighting to keep down the whimper that threatens to escape you. “missed you too,” you breathe out. god, you can’t believe you’re doing this. but for the first time in years, the man you’ve been picturing in your head is right here with you, fulfilling some of your fantasies that you never thought could ever come true.

somewhere deep in your stomach you feel guilty about it, getting off to the thought of him and he doesn’t even know it. would he want to know? would he be okay with it? would he hate you forever if he knew?

he clears his throat, snapping you back to attention and you realize you must’ve been silent for a while, thinking.

“um, so, what are you doing?” you ask, trying to seem casual, but it comes out as anything but. nobody calls anyone this late at night and asks what they’re doing without having a dirty reason for doing so. 

all you can do is hope he’s either too innocent to pick up on it, or that he doesn’t believe you’re the type of person who would call for something like that. you wonder if he still thinks of you as that perfect little obedient church girl he grew up with.

“nothing, just–working on… stuff,” he replies awkwardly. clearly he doesn’t want to go into detail about what he’s doing, and you’re already afraid you’ve interrupted his sleep; you’re mentally kicking yourself for all the blunders you’ve made, and you haven’t even been on the phone for five minutes.

“what are you doing?” he asks back, and you freeze, trying to come up with some excuse, anything. fuck, think of something!

“h-homework,” you sputter out, attempting to hide your unconfident answer with a cough.

apparently it works, because he hums in response, the line falling quiet. you hear the rustling of papers on his end, and you press your fingers harder against your cunt, heartbeat racing in your ears.

your fingers brush against your clit a little rougher than you intend, and a little whine escapes your lips, catching you off guard. you slap a hand over your mouth, hoping it had been too quiet for him to hear and he hadn’t been paying attention.

“are you…?” he asks suddenly, and your cheeks flush, caught red-handed in your sinful act.

you clear your throat, praying (both metaphorically and literally) that he doesn’t notice anything off about you. “am i what?”

his silence on the other end of the phone speaks volumes.

“joshua, oh my god, no, i–”

“what did you just say?”

you freeze. “what… did i say?”

when he speaks again, his tone is even. “don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”

that nickname again, and now you know he’s doing it on purpose. innocent, pretty words, completely changed in a split second.

you let out a short laugh, scrambling to find a cover. “must’ve forgot then.”

he hums. “i remember you spent a whole month trying to memorize the ten commandments. we must’ve been what, eight or nine? you wouldn’t have forgotten. i may not have seen you since we were kids, but i’ve still known you most of my life.”

“it was an accident, you know how it is. just slips out. of course i remember them all.”

he tsks, and it feels like your heart stops. “did you forget that lying is a sin, too? you’re two for two now, wanna try for a third?”

damn him! damn his good memory and damn his stupid witty comebacks and damn the way he so quickly manages to unravel you.

you scowl and don’t respond to his question, your silence enough of an answer for joshua to know he’s right.

“why did you call me tonight?” he asks calmly.

you answer truthfully this time. “just wanted to hear your voice again. i really did miss you.”

the phone goes quiet again, and for a second you’re afraid he’s hung up, but then you hear him exhale. “it’s late. what are you doing?”

“i’m in bed, josh. don’t worry, father, i’m not staying up past my bedtime.”

he chooses to ignore your remark. “in bed doing what?”

you give him a half-suppressed laugh. “in bed laying down. what else would i be doing?”

“well, with the way you were trying to hide your moans earlier, i would’ve figured you were doing something more exciting. but if you’re just laying down, then i don't want to keep you long, might as well hang up…”

“no!” you squeak out, cutting him off. you swallow, trying to collect yourself as you repeat the word. “no. fine, whatever, you caught me. but– please, stay.” you can hear the plea in your voice and you know you should be embarrassed at how pathetic you sound, but you aren't. the only thing you can think about is joshua, joshua, joshua, and how good it feels to talk to him again.

“i’m here,” he says softly, and you let your eyes close with a sigh, relieved he’s not going to chastise you. but as much as you’ve both changed as you grew up, deep down you knew he wouldn’t. you figure you could do just about anything and he wouldn’t try to tell you what to do. he’d always been like that, and it’s what you’d loved about him; he never tried to control you or shame you for not acting like the perfect little angel everybody wanted you to be. 

you couldn’t say the same about others in the church. maybe that’s why you’d started to drift away from them and why joshua’s friendship coming to an end had left you so devastated. he had been the one and only person you could always count on, and they had not.

“are you still there?” he asks gently, and you realize you’ve been quiet for too long thinking.

“yeah,” you say finally.

“are you still touching yourself?”

you pause, stifling a gasp, taken aback by his forwardness. hearing him say it out loud made everything seem so real, the realization setting in about what you’re actually doing. “n– no.”

and it’s true. your hand has long since dropped away from your pajama pants, too nervous about being discovered to continue.

“well, why not?” he says. “don’t stop on my account.”

your mouth falls open. “i–”

“clearly you wanted something from me when you called. what is it, sweetheart? i can’t help you if i don’t know what it is you want.”

your brain practically short circuits at that, and it takes a very long minute for you to collect your thoughts into a coherent sentence. you want a lot of things, but you don’t know what’s okay to say or not or if he even wants to keep going. which is a silly thought, because he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want to know. it dawns on you that maybe… maybe he’s curious, maybe he’s thinking about you, too.

“what kind of help?” you ask, still testing the waters. you think you have an idea of what he means, but you ask anyway. you’ve never done anything like this with anyone else, only by yourself; not because you didn’t want to, but because you didn’t want it to be with someone who wasn’t joshua.

“you said you wanted to hear my voice,” he says, and you swear his tone has dropped an octave. “then let me talk to you.”

you whine a little, still holding back but not putting in as much effort to hide it. “m’kay.”

“would it make you feel better if i told you i’m hard right now?”

you suck in a breath. “yeah?”

“yeah,” he says. “just thinking about you.”

you feel a rush of emotion at his admittance. pride? satisfaction? whatever it is, it makes your cunt throb, knowing that just the thought of you can get him going.

finally you dare to slide your hand down your pants again, unsurprised when you find your underwear sticking to you with how wet you are. you’re soaking, and you haven’t even done anything yet.

“hold on,” you manage, putting the call on speaker as you set your phone on the table beside your bed, scrambling to shove your pants and ruined panties off and onto the floor.

once free, you pick up your phone and turn off the speaker, holding it to your ear with shaky hands.

“all ready now?” he asks softly, and it reminds you of what he used to say before you’d play pretend games together. always making sure you were ready. he was hot back then, too, and you mentally curse yourself for never realizing it sooner.

you hum. “mhm. comfortable.”

“good,” he says, and you can almost hear him smiling. “go ahead and do whatever you’d like. but i want you to tell me what you’re thinking about right now.”

you squirm a little on the bed as you start to circle your clit with your fingers. “thinking about you, joshua,” you sigh, finally beginning to feel relief.

“yeah?”

“yeah. you look even better than i thought you would,” you groan, picking up your pace a little as you slip your index finger inside your walls.

he chuckles. “oh, really?”

“mhm. god, i never thought i’d be doing this. especially not with you.”

“and why is that, baby?”

the name makes you shiver. you’d imagined him calling you it many times, but hearing him actually say it is completely different.

“because—” you whimper, losing your train of thought when your brain suddenly pictures his fingers inside you instead of your own. “i’m so close already, please—”

his tone is gentle but firm. “i want you to stop now.”

“but– ah, feels so good, shua,” you say, moans spilling out of you, finally letting him hear everything you’ve been holding back.

you hear him curse in that low voice through the phone, and your hand stills for a split second in shock, your eyes widening. as far as you knew, he never swore. but then again, there were a lot of things he never did that you're discovering about him now. looks like you weren’t the only one who changed over the years.

“that’s not my name.”

you sit up a little in confusion, pushing your phone closer to your ear to make sure you’re hearing him right. “huh?”

“my name is joshua. if you’re gonna moan like a sinner about how good it feels when i tell you how to touch yourself, you better use my name properly.” he sounds almost angry, but it only spurs you on even further.

you let his words sink for a second before responding. “yes, sir.”

“fuck,” he moans, he actually moans, and if you weren’t already so far gone you would’ve stopped to listen closer, to ingrain the noise in your brain so you never again forget how he sounds. “what did i just tell you?”

“what, you don’t like being called ‘sir’? thought you wanted to be a pastor, joshua,” you say with a smirk, and you know he hears the mischief in your voice, daring him to give you what you want.

it’s probably a good thing he’s not physically in the room with you, because there's no way you would have been able to muster up the courage to say something like that to his face. you wouldn’t have dared to even look him in the eyes, but being on the phone gives you a head rush. because with only his voice and not seeing his face, you can convince yourself that he still isn’t real, that this whole phone call and even your meeting earlier had just been an elaborate figment of your horny imagination, your denial being the only thing saving your last shred of dignity.

“didn’t realize you’d grow up to be even more of a brat than you were before,” he scoffs, and your cunt pulses. 

“what are you doing right now?” you say, a little desperately. the change of subject isn’t very subtle but you don’t care. you won’t lie, you’ve been curious since the start of what he’s doing but he’s been so focused on you he hasn’t said anything about himself. you want to know everything about him— how he’s moving his hands, where he puts pressure, what he thinks about to get himself closer and closer.

he grunts unceremoniously. “i’m fucking my hand and pretending it’s you.”

“me too,” you whimper, closing your eyes as you focus on the movement of your fingers.

after a while he stops responding, and you can hear his heavy breaths over the line matching with your own gasps for air as you curl your fingers inside of you. you figure he must be getting close, but you ask him anyway, because you want to hear him say it.

“yeah– fuck, so close,” he chokes out, and the way his voice gets higher as he lets out a whimper is what finally makes you come undone.

with a moan of his name—his full name—you cum, clenching around your fingers as you struggle to keep your hand moving. your wrist is starting to cramp up a little from the position you’ve been in, but the pleasure coursing through you is more than worth it. it’s almost dizzying, more powerful than any orgasm you’ve had before and when you finally remove your fingers from your aching cunt your head is spinning and your heart is pounding.

you can hear a muffled string of curses through the phone and you know he’s right behind you. thoughts of him sitting on his bed run rampant in your head, imagining his stomach covered in milky cum and his pretty, pretty lips parted as he catches his breath.

the silence is heavy as you feel yourself come back down from your high. you struggle to find something to say after… whatever that just was, so you say the only thing that’s on your mind.

“i really did miss you, joshua,” you say quietly. unlike before, there’s not a hint of teasing in the way you say his name now.

and he sighs contentedly, finally hearing his name on your lips like he always wanted to. “i know. i missed you too.”

you both say your goodbyes and good nights quickly, still basking in enough of the remnants of your orgasms to not be too awkward about it. but after you’re settled in bed (for real, this time) and about to fall asleep, you can’t help but wonder if things between you and joshua will ever be anything but awkward.

a memory surfaces: you and joshua running around at the park behind the church after a sunday evening service, no older than kindergarteners, laughing and playing until you collapse on the grass. your mom called for you both to get ready to go home, and no you’re not allowed to have a sleepover because it’s a school night but maybe this weekend if his mom is okay with it. before you ran off, he thrust his pinky out towards you and you shook on it, making a pact to always be best friends, even when you can’t have sleepovers. it didn’t ever occur to either of you that there might come a day where you wouldn’t be best friends.

you don’t remember what prompted him to make the pinky promise, but you know he’s never broken it. and you can only hope that he hasn’t forgotten it.

it’s a few days later at one of your bible study groups when you see him next, and yet again you’re caught off-guard like a deer in headlights.

you’re sitting with a group of other ladies, annotating material for a test you couldn’t care less about when you hear your name called out– a familiar deep voice you can only pray doesn’t belong to who you think it belongs to.

oh, but it does belong to him, alright. it feels like you’ve gotten the wind knocked out of you when you turn around and see joshua standing behind you, a warm smile on his face that makes you doubt anything ever happened. maybe it really was all just a delirious dream, too many years of yearning built up into one intense wet dream.

he puts a hand on your shoulder lightly, turning you away from the rest of the ladies. “hey, can we talk somewhere?”

and oh shit it was definitely not a dream.

your cheeks burn as you excuse yourself from the table, packing up your bible and pens and shoving everything in your bag as quickly as you can. you can almost hear the snickering already, the gossips whispering to each other that you must have done something unspeakable if the top-student, pastor’s son, joshua hong has to speak with you privately. ah, if only they knew.

you only wish you could go back there and wipe the smirks off of all their faces and tell them about what the perfect little gentlemen they all pretend they don’t have crushes on was doing on the phone with you last night. you wouldn’t do that, not in a million years, but just the thought of it is satisfaction enough. 

joshua leads you down the hall to a room that looks like an empty office. he opens the door for you, then closes it softly behind you.

“whose is this?” you ask, glancing around the room. 

“it’s… mine,” he says almost shyly, gesturing idly to a little engraved nameplate on the desk. joshua hong, pastor’s assistant. because of fucking course he would be.

“oh.”

he clears his throat, and in that moment you realize he’s just as nervous as you are. “listen…” he starts, taking a pause. “about the other night–”

“are you gonna kick me out?” you interrupt.

his brows knit together in confusion. “what?”

“are you gonna expel me?”

“no?” he says, still looking at you, baffled. “why would i do that? i don’t even think i have the power to, even if i wanted. which, for the record, i don’t.”

you don’t reply, focusing your gaze on the carpet instead.

he frowns. “is that really how you think of me? that i just go around tattling to my dad? from that… conversation, i thought it was clear i’m not like that anymore.”

the tips of your ears are burning at the memory of all the things you said to each other over the phone. but it never occurred to you that maybe he was just as sinful as you had been.

you stay quiet, the silence stretching on as shame and embarrassment and a hundred other emotions swirl in your mind and you struggle to figure out what to say.

luckily for you he fills the silence himself. he exhales, looking down at a stack of papers on the desk. “god, you… you don’t know how much i missed you. i thought about you all the time.”

“so did i,” you manage to whisper. “in more ways than you know.”

he gives you a teasing smile. “oh, i have a feeling i do know.”

you hold back a cough and look away, focusing your attention on a painting of flowers on the wall. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“if that’s how you wanna play this, fine.”

your curiosity piques, and you look back at him. he motions to the seat in front of the desk, wordlessly asking you to sit. hesitantly you do, and he starts to sit down at the swivel chair behind the desk, but you clear your throat and he glances up.

“can– can you not sit over there?” you ask softly. “feels like i’m being scolded.”

his expression softens a little, and he rolls the chair back into place, opting to sit next to you instead. “of course.”

except maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to do that, because now he’s sitting toe to toe with you and the closeness is overwhelming. at least on the other side of the desk there was enough distance for you to shrink and hide behind, but here, sitting like this, he can see all of you. and you don’t particularly want to be seen right now.

the tension is palpable as he takes his seat, still watching you. you take the moment to study his features: the slope of his nose and the gentle curve of his lips, the way the light catches on his long eyelashes and the way his broad shoulders look in that perfectly tailored sunday morning service suit.

“i always liked you,” he starts, and your gaze shoots up to his eyes. you open your mouth to ask something, but he shakes his head and you immediately fall silent, letting him finish. “i was almost glad when they made us go to different sunday school classes, because i wouldn’t have to sit there and pretend i didn’t have the craziest crush on you.”

“joshua, i–” you trail off, not even knowing what to say.

he pauses, as if debating his next words. “and i know it’s wrong, but i couldn’t get you out of my head when i… y’know.” his cheeks are flushed but he doesn’t look away from you, eyes searching your own for any hesitance or any sign that you don’t want this.

it’s then that you realize that the boldness you had felt hiding behind your phone, he had felt it too. saying words alone in your room at night was easy. sitting in public, in the daylight, and saying those same words to his face was so much scarier. and knowing that you’re both feeling awkward and shy and a little uncertain of how to talk about it gives you the confidence to keep going.

“when you would what?” you pry. you already know the answer but you want to hear it come out of his mouth anyway. you’ve already heard him say it, but something about sitting in his office, in a church, speaking such filth ignites a spark in you that’s completely different from the spark you felt a few nights ago.

he clears his throat and looks you in the eye, maybe gaining a little bit of that confidence, too. “when i would jerk off i would always wish it was your sweet little mouth instead of my own hand.”

you inhale sharply, and that’s when he finally breaks eye contact, his guilt-ridden gaze shifting to the wall behind you as his cheeks burn redder. “i didn’t feel good about it. felt like i was doing it without your permission, and i didn’t want that. i–”

“yes,” you say hurriedly.

he stops short at your interruption, instantly looking back at you. “yes…?”

“yes, you have my permission. whatever you want, joshua, always.”

his eyes narrow, almost imperceptibly, but you recognize it. even after all these years, after so much has changed, you still know his tells. you wonder if he still knows yours.

he murmurs your name in response, almost like a warning. “don’t say stuff like that,” he says, letting out a shaky breath.

“why not?” you ask, feigning innocence. but you know exactly what you’re doing, and you know exactly how you affect him: the same way he affects you.

he looks up at you. “you really are just as much of a brat as you were back then, aren’t you?” he says with just a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“why don’t you find out?”

he groans, leaning back in his chair. “do you know how long i’ve wanted to kiss you?” he says finally.

“probably just as long as i’ve wanted to kiss you,” you counter, and he raises an eyebrow.

you both stand up at the same moment, closing the distance in less than a second. 

you stare at his chest in front of you to avoid his eyes, until he brings up a hand and gently tilts your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“are– you gonna get in trouble?” you breathe, heartbeat pounding in your ears as you stare at his perfect, perfect lips.

he hums, and it sends a shiver down your spine at the close proximity. “are you still giving me permission?” he asks, and you quickly shake your head yes. 

“always.”

he smooths his thumb across your cheek. “then i won’t be in any trouble at all."

and then his hand moves to hold the back of your neck and he's tilting his head and bringing his lips towards yours and then finally, after years of dreaming about it and even more years of denying it, you're finally kissing joshua and there's so many things happening at once that you can't seem to focus on anything because your mind is so full of everything and nothing and joshua and it all just feels so right.

you’re melting in his arms and falling into his touch and enjoying every fucking second of it. your heart speeds up when his hands slide behind your back, wrapping around your body to pull you closer to him, pressed chest to chest.

he pulls away to kiss you again, and again, and again, and you decide you’d be content to be like this forever, standing in his office in the church building making out like you’re the only two people on earth. 

but finally his lips leave yours, and he takes a tiny step backwards, heaving out a shaky breath as he looks you in the eyes. “what are we gonna do now?”

your heart plummets, doubts racing through your mind. did he not like it? does he not like you? did you really just ruin everything? why did he stop? why did he ask that—

but all your questions are answered in an instant when he coughs and you look down, finally noticing the prominent bulge in his dress pants. oh. that.

when you look back up at him his cheeks are flushed bright red, and he immediately begins to apologize.

“shua,” you call out to him, repeating his name the way you know he likes. “joshua. don’t worry about it. it’s fine.”

in fact, you find it incredibly flattering, that just a few kisses and gentle touches could get him this worked up. maybe it really has been you all along.

with a surge of confidence, you step back towards him, wrapping your arms around him and leaning to kiss him. “are you busy today?” you murmur, your cheek brushing against his.

he shudders, hands automatically finding your waist and pushing your hips against his own. “no. are you?”

you sigh, kissing the corner of his mouth. “not anymore.”

“fuck,” he curses, his grip on your body tightening “you really want to…?” he asks, almost shyly, as if he’s in denial this is really happening.

“absolutely,” you say, and you’ve never meant anything more in your life.

in a second he’s got you shoved against his desk, sending papers flying to the floor as he lifts you by your ass to sit you down on top of it. your kisses turn rougher and needier, your hands grabbing at anything you can reach to ground yourself: his hair, his shoulders, his back.

finally he breaks free, dropping to his knees in front of the desk. “please, let me eat you out.”

you moan out loud, probably too loudly for the thin walls of the office. but the visual of him on his knees to do anything other than pray drives you mad, and you need more of him, desperately. “joshua, please.”

he pushes your skirt up your thighs, moving it out of his way so he can stare eye to eye with your pussy. you whimper and instinctively try to hide your face in embarrassment, but something tells you he wouldn’t like that, so you resist, keeping your hands firmly planted on the edge of the desk.

“fuck, you’re soaking,” he says, his voice broken. “you’re so perfect.”

his hands reach up to tug at the hem of your underwear, and he looks up at you, silently asking for permission to continue. you nod eagerly, lifting your hips off the desk so he can slide them off of you, revealing your glistening entrance.

he whines at the sight, pretty lips parted in shock? awe? as if he can’t wait to taste you. he pushes his face into your pussy, gently at first, but when you moan and bring your hand up to his hair he dives deeper.

the moment he attaches his mouth to your clit, you jump, gasping as you try to shut your legs around his head but his large hands keep you held open. his tongue explores every inch of you, moving back and forth, up and down, mapping out your cunt with his mouth. 

“fuck, never dreamed you’d taste so good,” he sighs against your pussy, leaning away to take a breath after what feels like forever.

your legs are shaking and your cunt is throbbing as you also try to catch your breath. you’re not used to being touched like this and you’re definitely not used to being touched by joshua. so many thoughts running through your head and not a single one of them coherent enough to put into words. all you can do is weakly whine out joshua’s name and tug on his hair, pleading for him to keep going. you need release, and you don’t want it from anyone but him.

he stands up, his pants wrinkled from kneeling on the floor but still tented with a bulge so uncomfortably large you feel dizzy just thinking about it. you don’t even know if he’s going to fuck you or even if he wants to, but god you want to see his cock so bad. too many restless nights spent thinking about it, and now you might finally have the chance to see it in front of your face.

your mouth waters at the thought, and you start to slide off the desk, but joshua stops you. “what are you…?”

you look up at him, eyes blown wide with lust and you don’t even attempt to hide your eagerness. “please let me suck your dick. joshua, please.”

he whines, running a hand through his hair. “god, i want that so bad, but… i don’t think i can last if you do, and i was really hoping to fuck you.”

you close your eyes and roll your head back, moaning at his vulgar confession. but he sighs, and he sounds almost defeated, and you look back at him quickly, afraid he’s suddenly changed his mind.

“i’m not—prepared,” he admits, and you tilt your head in confusion before it sinks in what he means.

“ah. don’t suppose you would have any condoms lying around, would you, mr. pastor’s assistant?” you ask playfully, and he shoots you a glare.

“brat,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear it, and your walls clench in response. “no, i don’t have any. not interested in anybody else, so… no reason to.” he looks like he has more to say, more serious things to say, but he keeps his mouth shut, his eyes searching your face nervously.

your stomach flips at his words, feeling your cheeks heating up. you hadn’t thought you would ever get this far, and especially not with him. because of the kind of school you were at, it wasn’t like the people here were doing the kind of things you’ve been doing—at least not publicly. even if you’d wanted to hook up with somebody (which you didn’t), everyone in your vicinity would shame you for even bringing it up. you may have experience with yourself, but anything with anyone else is completely new territory for you.

you fall silent, not sure how to continue the conversation as all your newfound confidence begins to crumble. what were you thinking? caught up in the heat of the moment, saying things you weren’t sure you meant. you were in love with him: that much you were sure of. but everything that comes after that is too new, too scary, at least for right now. you can barely even comprehend that he just went down on you, but you know you enjoyed it and honestly, you’d give anything for him to do it again. but there’s too much going on inside your head for you to even begin to process that right now.

he calls your name and you blink, looking back at him anxiously. “we… don’t have to. right now, or even at all,” he says gently. the tips of his ears are burning red but his voice is calm and steady.

“joshua, i want to,” you start, clasping your hands tightly together in your lap to give you something to focus on other than the way he’s watching you so intently. “but i– don’t know how.”

“neither do i, baby,” he says. the nickname makes you shiver; even though it’s not the first time he’s called you that, especially after the other night, you’re still not used to it. but somehow it’s comforting, and it makes you relax knowing that he’s still the same person you grew up with, the same person that knows almost everything about you. you’ve both changed so much, but deep down you haven’t changed at all.

he pauses when you don’t say anything back. “we’ll wait, then,” he says and wraps his arms around you, lightly at first but then squeezing when you don’t try to pull away. “we have all the time in the world. no need to rush.”

“we… do?” your voice is laced with uncertainty.

he smiles. “of course. i let you go once already, i’m not letting it happen again. never again.”

you turn your head away from him and hide your face, flustered by how sincere he sounds. he hums, and you can hear the pout in his tone so you fight your embarrassment and turn back towards him to ask the question that’s been weighing on your mind since you first saw him days ago. “this is gonna sound so stupid, but… shua, what are we?”

first you were childhood friends, you were best friends, and then you were nothing. right place, wrong time? and then you were… doing something on the phone together, whatever you could call that. and now you were just sitting on top of his desk, sweating from having almost had sex. how do you even begin to put a label on this?

“well, i’d like to be yours,” he says shyly, and just like that all your questions are answered with six small words. you realize it doesn’t matter what label you have; as long as you have him, that’s all that matters.

“yes,” you breathe, lifting your eyes to finally meet his and you see all the love in his eyes threatening to spill over.

he reaches up to brush a piece of your hair out of your face. “i’m just glad i finally have you back,” he says with a soft smile as he watches you. “we’ll go slow, we’ll wait— whatever you want. whatever it takes not to lose you again.”

you bury your face in his chest with a whine. you’re hiding again, but even the uncomfortable scratchiness of his dress shirt can’t pull you away from him.

“besides, i don’t want our first time together to be in my stupid little office,” he chuckles and holds you tighter against him, pressing a kiss to the top of your head that makes your heart flutter. “you deserve better than that.”

you stay there for a long moment, hugging him like it's the last time you'll ever see him. but this time you know it won't be the last. it's the first, the first of hopefully many, many more.

when you feel like you've been standing there too long, you clear your throat and lean your head back to look at him. "so, um… now what?"

he pauses, those pretty lips turned up in a smile. "do you have plans for lunch?"

"no, i just had that study group you pulled me from. i'm free for the rest of the day."

his smile widens. "perfect. you still like grilled cheese, or did you grow out of that, too?"

you laugh, putting your chin on his shoulder as you hug him. "i haven't changed that much, shua."

after taking a while to collect yourselves (waiting for his erection to go back down so you can leave together without looking suspicious), you walk out of joshua’s office the happiest you've felt in years.

he'd wanted to hold your hand, too, but you were still anxious about anyone seeing you together that you'd refused him until you made it to his car. you were probably just being paranoid and no one would care about two responsible adults talking to each other, but all the time you'd spent hiding from your peers had put you on edge.

so, it wasn't until you were safely out of the church parking lot and in the driveway of his apartment complex that you let him touch you, kissing you over the cupholders with his hands gently holding your neck.

it took everything in you not to climb over the center console and sit on his lap in the driver's seat and kiss him as hard and as deeply as you really wanted, but you knew once you started you wouldn't be able to stop. and besides, he still didn't have any condoms. it didn't bother you either way, since you'd been taking birth control since high school to help with your periods, but if it was what he wanted you'd be more than fine with it.

you don't know what you'd been expecting the inside his apartment to look like; probably some tacky cross-stitch bible verses or a wooden cross hanging on the wall, but his apartment just looked like… a normal apartment. a very clean apartment, actually, though you weren't surprised. he'd always been a neat, organized kid, and it looked like that was one thing he hadn't grow out of.

you watch as he puts his keys on a hook by the door, following him into the kitchen and sitting at one of the chairs.

he grins at you as he opens his refrigerator, pulling out the ingredients for your lunch before taking out a pan.

"shua…" you interrupt him, standing up and walking towards him slowly. "you're not— really thinking about grilled cheese sandwiches right now, are you?"

he hums, eyes following your every movement as the pan sits cold and abandoned on the stove. "there are… other things on my mind, yeah."

"so why are you still trying to make grilled cheese sandwiches?"

by now you're close enough to stand toe to toe with him, and you're sure he can feel the heat radiating off your body when he wraps his hands around your waist, backing you against the kitchen counter. "because i wanna make you lunch. maybe i just wanna spoil my girl a little bit."

a shiver runs down your spine at the new name he calls you. never in a million years did you think this is where you'd end up.

"i think you have all the time in the world to spoil me later, joshua," you mumble, leaning in closer and closer until your lips touch.

in a flash he's hoisting you up and sitting you on the counter. his mouth never leaves yours as you slide your legs around his hips to drag him closer, kisses growing deeper and more desperate now that you can finally be alone together.

his hands slide down your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt and only breaking apart for a second to slide it over your head before his lips are crashing against yours again. 

your hands find his hips, experimentally tugging on his belt to see his reaction. immediately he pulls away from you, 

cheeks flushed and breathing heavily. "sweetheart, i still don't have any condoms. if you really want to now, then we gotta run to the store first."

“i’m on the pill,” you burst out, hoping he gets the message. maybe he has some other reason for wanting to, but you're too impatient to wait for who knows how long it'll take to go to the store, and you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off him for that long. you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off of him for even a few seconds.

his face goes blank as he processes your words, struggling to understand if you’re saying what he thinks you’re saying. “you’d let me…?”

you grab onto his arms, a desperate attempt to pull him closer, to feel more of him. “raw, yes, joshua. just—please, i need you,” you beg him, cunt throbbing with neglect as you wait for him to answer. 

he buries his face in your shoulder with a groan, gripping his hands underneath your thighs and sliding you off the counter.

with a shriek you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as he starts to walk out of the kitchen carrying you. "joshua! what the hell are you doing?"

his face is still pressed against your shoulder, and you can feel his lips tickling your bare skin as he speaks. "i'll fuck you on my kitchen counter any day of the week, baby, but i want to have you for the first time in my bed, please?"

his voice is low and whiny, just as desperate for you as you are for him and it makes you moan with excitement. 

he finds his way into his room, stumbling a little when he accidentally runs you into the wall instead of through the doorway, but you just giggle and kiss him harder until he finally drops you on his bed, immediately unbuttoning his shirt.

you run your hands along his chest as he leans over you, feeling the toned muscle that feels almost wrong to be seeing. his physical changes are much more obvious to you now that he's like this, and you know the image will fuel your fantasies for weeks.

your hands move to his belt again and this time he allows it, letting you unbuckle it and toss it away before slowly lowering the zipper. he's already hard again, and your heart races when you put a little bit of pressure on the seam and he lets out a guttural groan in response.

his arms flex as he reaches down to slide your skirt off, and you help him and kick the fabric away, leaving both of you in nothing but your underwear.

joshua pauses, letting his gaze wander your body as you look away shyly. he hums and you look back at him in confusion. "don't hide from me, sweetheart, please," he says, but it comes out more like a whine; not like he's asking, but like he's begging. it's honestly the hottest thing you've ever heard, and even with your nerves he makes it hard to resist.

"dreamt about this for fucking years. years," he moans as he leans over to kiss your chest, reaching behind your body to undo your bra and let it fall away. you whimper when he brings his hands up to cup your breasts, wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples as he starts to slowly grind against your clothed pussy. you can already feel yourself soaking through your panties, and you're sure he can feel it, too.

his hands are like nothing you've ever felt, and you roll your head back against his pillows, arching into him as he massages your breasts with his large hands. you'd noticed them before, but you hadn't realized just how big they were until they were on top of you and made your body seem almost tiny beneath his massive palms.

"shua…" you breathe, tentative hands reaching up to touch his shoulders.

he looks up at you, mouth covered in spit. "yes, angel?"

you whimper at the nickname. no angel you'd ever learned about in sunday school had acted like you are right now, begging a man to fuck you. and on top of that it was before marriage, too; surely if there was a god they would be extremely disappointed in you. but right now you didn't care if the entire universe was disappointed in you, as long as joshua hong wasn't.

it takes you a few more seconds to build up your courage, but finally you open your mouth and tell him, "joshua, please— fuck me."

he slides forward to kiss you again, before sitting back and repositioning himself between your legs. "anything you want, sweetheart."

he lines his cock up at your entrance, and just before you think he's about to push into you, he looks up at you instead. 

"i love you, so much," he says, and you have to fight the urge to hide your face as you grin and giggle like a fucking schoolgirl; like the past version of you would have, if she'd had any sense and figured everything out sooner.

and, like always, he asks, "ready?", and you nod, and it's better than you could've ever imagined.

the whines that leave his mouth drive you close to the edge already as he begins to thrust into you, slowly, gently, just a little bit at a time but it still leaves you gasping from his size.

he keeps moving at a snail's pace until you reach up, fumbling to grab at his bicep as tears nearly spill out of your eyes and beg him, "joshua, more, please."

he leans over you, pressing his body flat against yours as he starts to rock his hips faster, and you cry out from so much pleasure and so much emotion hitting all at once.

"wanted you so fucking bad, for so long, and now you're finally here," he whispers, his thrusts never faltering despite how close in proximity he is to your face.

you whine as your hands claw at his back, digging in as you struggle to hold on and he curses again, pushing into you harder.

"you said i was better than you imagined," he groans, one hand coming up to caress your cheek. "but you're even better than i imagined. you're a fucking angel, so fucking beautiful."

you gasp his name, falling into your orgasm from his words alone as you clench impossibly tight around him. you always thought of him as the nice kid, the rule follower, but here he is, fucking you through the hardest orgasm of your life and saying such filthy things in between praises and compliments.

"jo-oshua, please!" is all you can manage, still struggling to recover before he crests into his own high with a whimper. his eyes scrunch up as he releases inside you, eyelashes fluttering and sweat dripping down his temples, and you think it's the most beautiful sight you've ever seen. 

a constant stream of curses fall from his lips and you swallow them with yours, kissing him as if you're afraid he might disappear into thin air if you don't hold onto him tight enough.

his breaths are shallow when his mouth falls away from you, resting his forehead on your shoulder with a long exhale.

"god…" he starts, then stops and laughs, and you have to tug on his hair to make him face you again.

"what are you laughing at?" you say, cheeks growing hot when he looks at you with droopy, hooded eyes and a lopsided smile.

"nothing," he laughs. "just god. what a funny word."

"and why is that, baby?" you say as you try to hold back a smile, testing out the nickname.

he grins. "because it gave me you. or maybe it didn't. who knows?"

you finally laugh along with him, remembering what he'd said to you on the phone that feels like years ago. "don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”

the church is humming with activity as you make your way to the front pew, carrying two donuts in your hand. people greet you as they mingle about the hall, talking and laughing. some wave excitedly when they see you, others simply smile and offer their hand for you to shake with a friendly “good morning and god bless!”

being a pastor’s wife isn’t something you ever imagined yourself doing, but then again, a lot of things in your life you never imagined doing. you never imagined seeing joshua again, and you never imagined marrying him, either. you certainly didn’t imagine taking over your father-in-law’s church when he retired and decided it was time for joshua to take his place as head of the church. you always knew he would someday, whether he wanted to or not, but you’d be happy to spend the rest of your life by his side no matter where he was or what job he had.

you’d been almost nervous when you decided it was finally time to tell your parents you had been seeing each other, but to your surprise they had been overjoyed at the news. both his family and yours were “just so glad when it happened to be you!”, saying things like “we’d always known it would happen, back since you were children!”, and “so when are we going to get some beautiful little grandchildren to take to sunday school!”

it had been five long and happy years since that very first phone call, and every minute you spend with joshua has been the best of your life.

you walk up the steps to the stage where your husband is waiting, flipping through his notes for the morning’s sermon. you hand him his donut with a grin, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. he smirks at you, imperceptible to everyone else but you can tell what it truly means.

everybody in the congregation always talks you’re the perfect example of a happy, god-loving couple. such nice looking people, so well put together. but behind closed doors, they’d be horrified by the things you say and do together. wolf in sheep’s clothing, as is your husband’s favorite parable to preach.

it’s not the life you imagined, but it’s perfect to you and him.

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[theoihalioistuff]

ARES IS NOT THE PROTECTOR OF WOMEN IN GREEK MYTHOLOGY.

He is never presented as such in any source, there is no evidence such a role was ever assigned to him in any account, and as far as I'm aware this popular yet unattested assertion is born from the echo-chambers of tumblr. In fact quite the opposite could be argued. TW for sexual assault.

This baffling claim seems to originate from a sort of shallow examination of the way Ares "behaves in myth", and the following arguments are the most frequently presented:

1. Ares protects his daughter Alkippe from assault, and is therefore morally opposed to rape. (Apollodorus 3.180, Pausanias 1.21.4, Suidas "Areios pagos", attributed to Hellanikos)

Curiously this argument is never applied to, among other examples: Apollo for defending his mother Leto from Tytios, Herakles for defending Hera from Porphyrion (or his wife Deianeira from Nessos), or Zeus for defending his sister Demeter from Iasion (in the versions where he attacks her), etc. The multiple accounts of rape of the previously mentioned figures did not conflict with these stories in greek thought: they're defending family members or women otherwise close to them. This sort of mentality is not uncommon even in contemporary times, e.g. a warrior may have no ethical problem killing men, but would not want his own family or loved ones to be killed. The same goes here for sexual assault.

2. There are no surviving accounts of Ares sexually assaulting anybody.

The idea that the ancient greeks pictured that, among all the gods, Ares was the only one who shied away from committing rape is baseless and borders on ridiculous. In this case absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.

The majority of surviving records regarding Ares' unions are presented in a genealogical manner, and do not go into details on their nature. This is the case for most works of mythography, where specifics of sexual encounters are to be found elsewhere. However, common motifs present in other accounts of rape also appear in stories concerning Ares' relationships, e.g. tropes like shape-shifting/the use of disguises, the victim being a huntress, secrecy, and the disposal of the concieved child, are to be found in the stories of Phylonome and Astyoche respectively:

Φυλονόμη Νυκτίμου καὶ Ἀρκαδίας θυγάτηρ ἐκυνήγει σὺν τῇ Ἀρτέμιδι: Ἄρης δ᾽ ἐν σχήματι ποιμένος ἔγκυον ἐποίησεν. ἡ δὲ τεκοῦσα διδύμους παῖδας καὶ φοβουμένη τὸν πατέρα ἔρριψεν εἰς τὸν Ἐρύμανθο

"Phylonome, the daughter of Nyktimos and Arkadia, was wont to hunt with Artemis; but Ares, in the guise of a shepherd, got her with child. She gave birth to twin children and, fearing her father, cast them into the [River] Erymanthos." (Pseudo-Plutarch, Greek and Roman Parallel Stories, 36)

οἳ δ᾽ Ἀσπληδόνα ναῖον ἰδ᾽ Ὀρχομενὸν Μινύειον, τῶν ἦρχ᾽ Ἀσκάλαφος καὶ Ἰάλμενος υἷες Ἄρηος οὓς τέκεν Ἀστυόχη δόμῳ Ἄκτορος Ἀζεΐδαο, παρθένος αἰδοίη ὑπερώϊον εἰσαναβᾶσα Ἄρηϊ κρατερῷ: ὃ δέ οἱ παρελέξατο λάθρῃ: τοῖς δὲ τριήκοντα γλαφυραὶ νέες ἐστιχόωντο.

"And they that dwelt in Aspledon and Orchomenus of the Minyae were led by Ascalaphus and Ialmenus, sons of Ares, whom, in the palace of Actor, son of Azeus, Astyoche, the honoured maiden, conceived of mighty Ares, when she had entered into her upper chamber; for he lay with her in secret" (Homer, Iliad 2. 512 ff)

In neither of these cases is a verb explicitly denoting rape used, though it is heavily implied by the context. The focus of the action is on the conception of sons, the nature of the interaction is secondary.

Other examples are found among the daughters of the river Asopos, who where (and here there's no confusion) ravished and kidnapped by different gods to different parts of the greek world, where they found local lines through children borne to their abductors and serve as eponyms. Surviving fragments from Corinna of Tanagra tell us:

"Asopos went to his haunts . . from you halls . . into woe . . Of these [nine] daughters Zeus, giver of good things, took his [Asopos'] child Aigina . . from her father's [house] . . while Korkyra and Salamis and lovely Euboia were stolen by father Poseidon, and Leto's son is in possession of Sinope and Thespia . . [and Tanagra was seized by Hermes] . . But to Asopos no one was able to make the matter clear, until . . [the seer Akraiphen reveals to him] 'And of your daughters father Zeus, king of all, has three; and Poseidon, ruler of the sea, married three; and Phoibos [Apollon] is master of the beds of two of them, and of one Hermes, good son of Maia. For so did the pair Eros and the Kypris persuade them, that they should go in secret to your house and take your nine daughters." (heavily fragmented papyrus. Corinna fr. 654)

"For your [Tanagra's] sake Hermes boxed against Ares." (Corinna fr. 666)

It seems that, similar to the myths of Beroe or Marpessa, the abducted maiden is fought over by two competing "suitors", and though we can infer that the outcome of the story is that Hermes gets to keep Tanagra, apparently by beating Ares in a boxing match, we don't actually know what happened or how it happened. In any case, Ares does mate with another daughter of Asopos, Harpina, who bears him Oinomaos according to some versions (Paus. 5.22.6; Stephanus Byzantium. Ethnica. A125.3; Diodorus Siculus 4. 73. 1). There is little reason to suppose that this encounter wasn't pictured as an abduction like the rest of her sisters.

The blatant statement that each of his affairs was envisioned as consensual is simply not true.

3. He was worshipped under the epithet Gynaikothoinas "feasted by women"

This was a local cult that existed in Tegea, the following reason is given:

"There is also an image of Ares in the marketplace of Tegea. Carved in relief on a slab it is called Gynaecothoenas. At the time of the Laconian war, when Charillus king of Lacedaemon made the first invasion, the women armed themselves and lay in ambush under the hill they call today Phylactris. When the armies met and the men on either side were performing many remarkable exploits, the women, they say, came on the scene and put the Lacedaemonians to flight. Marpessa, surnamed Choera, surpassed, they say, the other women in daring, while Charillus himself was one of the Spartan prisoners. The story goes on to say that he was set free without ransom, swore to the Tegeans that the Lacedaemonians would never again attack Tegea, and then broke his oath; that the women offered to Ares a sacrifice of victory on their own account without the men, and gave to the men no share in the meat of the victim. For this reason Ares got his surname." (Paus. 8.48.4-5)

As emphasised by Georgoudi in To Act, Not Submit: Women’s Attitudes in Situations of War in Ancient Greece (part of the highly recommendable collection of essays Women and War in Antiquity), "it is not necessary to see the operation of an invitation in the bestowal of the epithet Γυναικοθοίνας on Ares". The epithet is ambiguous, and can be translated both as "Host of the banquet of women" or "[He who is] invited to the banquet of women". In any case no act of divine intervention occurs, and the main reason for the women's act of devotion lies principally in recognising their decisive role in the routing of the Lakedaimonians. It's they who preside/participate in the feast of war, the men are excluded.

Also this a local epithet that isn't found anywhere else in Greece. As such it would be worth reminding that not every Ares is Gynaikothoinas, in the same way not every Zeus is Aithiopian, not every Demeter Erinys, and not every Artemis of Ephesos.

4. He was the patron god of the Amazons

He was considered progenitor of the Amazons because of their proverbial warlike nature and love of battle, the same reason he was associated with other "barbaric" tribes, like the Thracians or the Scythians. In this capacity he was also appointed as a suitable father/ancestor for other violent and savage characters who generally function as antagonists (e.g. Kyknos, Diomedes of Thrace, Tereos of Thrace, Oinomaos, Agrios and Oreios, Phlegyas, Lykos etc.). Also he was by no means the only god connected with the Amazons (they were in fact especially linked to Artemis, see Religious Cults Associated With the Amazons by Florence Mary Bennett, if only for the bibliography).

Similarly, Poseidon was considered patron and ancestor of the Phaiakians mainly because of their mastery over the art of seafaring (and was curiously also credited in genealogies as father to monsters and other disreputable figures).

On another note I have found no sources that claim he taught his amazon daughters how to fight, as I've seen often mentioned (though I admit I'd love to be proven wrong on that point).

5. Finally, the last reason Ares could never be portrayed as a protector of women is because of his divine assignation itself

The uncountable references to his love of bloodshed and man-slaying don't just stop short of the battlefield, but continue on to the conclusion and intended purpose of most waged wars in antiquity: the sacking of the city. The title Sacker of Cities as an epithet of Ares (though it is by no means exclusive to him) is encountered numerous times and in different variations (eg. τειχεσιπλήτης or πτολίπορθος), and the meaning behind the epithet is plain. Though it is hard to summarise without being reductionist, the sacking of a city entails the plundering of all its goods, the slaughtering of its men, and the sistematic raping and enslavement of the surviving women (to name only a small few of the literary references see The Iliad, The Trojan Women or The Women of Trachis). There is little need to emphasise that war as concieved of in ancient greece, especifically the brutal aspects of war Ares is most often associated with, directly entailed sexual violence against women as one of it's main concerns. The multiple references to Ares being an unloved or disliked deity are because of this, because war is horrifying (not because his daddy is a big old meany who hates him for no reason, Zeus makes very clear the motive for his contempt in the Iliad (5. 889-891): "Do not sit beside me and whine, you double-faced liar. To me you are most hateful of all gods who hold Olympos. Forever quarreling is dear to your heart, wars and battles.")

Ares was only the protector of women inasmuch as he could be averted or repelled (e.g. surviving apotropaic chants):

"There is no clash of brazen shields but our fight is with the war god, a war god ringed with the cries of men, a savage god who burns us; grant that he turn in racing course backward out of our country’s bounds, to the great palace of Amphitrite or where the waves of the thracian sea deny the stranger safe anchorage. Whatsoever escapes the night at last the light of day revisits; so smite him, Father Zeus, beneath your thunderbolt, for you are the lord of the lightning, the lightning that carries fire." (Shophocles, Oedipus Tyrannos, 190-202)

"And let no murderous havoc come upon the realm to ravage it, by arming Ares—foe to the dance and lute, parent of tears—and the shout of civil strife." (Aeschylus, Suppliant Women 678)

~~~~~

All that being said, this is a post about Ares as conceptualized and attested in ancient sources, made specifically in response to condescending statements about how "uhmmm, actually, in greek mythology Ares was a super-feminist himbo who was worshipped as the protector of women and was hated by his family for no reason, you idiot". It is factually incorrect. HOWEVER, far be it from me to tell anyone how they have to interact with this deity. Be it your retellings, your headcannons or your own personal religious attachments and beliefs towards Ares, those are your own provinces and prerogatives, and not what was being discussed here at all (I personally love art where Ares and Aphrodite goof around, or retellings where he plays with his daughters, or headcannons that showcase his more noble sides, etc.)

~~~~~

I've seen that other people on tumblr have made similar posts, the ones I've seen were by @deathlessathanasia and @en-theos . I have no idea how to link their posts, but they're really good so go check them out on their pages!