#and got thinking the building must be hungry...

[dare-g]

[importantpuppystarfish]

Repopulating the whole world with Wonyoung

Male reader x Jang Wonyoung

Plot : You are from a random country "X". World War 3 is ongoing. Genre : Survival, Romantic, Emotional. Includes: 69, rimjob, facesitting, wony pissing, breeding, lots of kissing.

I drag myself onto the rocky shore, my body aching from the endless swimming. My clothes are soaked, my breaths ragged, and my arms feel like they could fall off any second. But I made it.

The world is in ruins. World War III tore everything apart. Cities burned, people scattered, and survival became a desperate gamble. I don’t know how long I was in the water, moving from boat to boat, trying to stay afloat. But somehow, I reached this island near the Korean Peninsula.

I push myself up, coughing out of the salt water, and scan out my surroundings. The island is covered in dense trees, the sand untouched, the wind eerily silent. No signs of life.

Except for one.

A girl stands near the water’s edge, her long, damp hair flowing in the wind. She’s wearing a torn white dress, clinging to her body from the seawater. Even in this chaos, she looks unreallike -- gorgeous.

I blink. My brain struggles to process what I’m seeing.

It’s Jang Wonyoung!

The Wonyoung. The famous K-pop idol. The girl that once stood on dazzling stages, worshipped by millions. And now, she’s here, stranded just like me. Wonyoung also came to the same island through swimming to save herself from the war.

She notices me. Her eyes widen, and she steps back slightly, uncertain. I must look like a wreck, an exhausted or an average looking guy.

I raise my hands slightly, trying to show I’m not a threat. “Hey… I’m not here to hurt you.” My voice is hoarse.

She hesitates, then speaks, her voice soft yet sharp. “Are you alone?”

I nod. “Yeah… just me.”

A pause. The wind howls between us. Then she exhales and sits down on the sand. “Same.”

I look around again. No ships, no planes, no humans. Just us.

Two strangers. A famous lost idol and me.

Alone in the middle of nowhere. Wonyoung asks for my name~ "I'm Y/N!" Nice to meet u! We have a handshake.. Her hands feel soft.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pt1:

I take a cautious step closer. “How long have you been here?”

“I don’t know. A few hours, maybe. I was on a boat, trying to escape… then everything went wrong.” Wonyoung replies.

I nod. I get it. The war didn’t care who we were, celebrity or nobody, we all ended up fighting for survival.

I sat onto the sand beside her, keeping a respectful distance. My body still aches from the swim, but at least I’m alive. “We should find shelter,” I say, more to myself than her.

Wonyoung doesn’t answer right away. She’s staring at the ocean, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nods. “Yeah.”

We explore the island together. It’s small, covered in thick trees, with no sign of civilization. No food, no supplies. If we want to live, we’ll have to find a way ourselves.

We build a shelter from fallen branches near a rocky cliffside, something to protect us from the wind. It’s not much, but it’ll do for now.

I know Wonyoung is feeling hungry, I can hear the sounds from her stomach. She's embarrassed. I hunt for fruits around in the forest and give some off to her. Wonyoung smiles and thanks me for the first time.

As night arrives, we sleep inside the shelter with a distinct position from each other. I can't believe I'm sleeping nearby a famous K-pop idol!

Wonyoung must be a very clean and neat girl. As morning arrives, with no proper shelter, no soap, and no change of clothes, Wonyoung specifically start to feel disgusting. We both only got one outfit for ourselves and its also getting torn apart.

Wonyoung tugs at her damp, dirt-streaked dress, grimacing. “I can’t take this anymore. I feel gross.”

I look down at myself. My clothes are stiff with dried saltwater and sweat. “Yeah, me too.”

She crosses her arms, thinking. “We need to wash them.”

I nod, then realize the problem. “But… if we wash them, we’ll have nothing to wear.”

She sighs. “I know.”

We stand there in awkward silence, both aware of what that means.

“…Maybe we take turns?” I suggest hesitantly.

She gives me a sharp look. “You mean one of us stays naked while the other waits?”

I scratch my head. “I mean… yeah?”

She groans, burying her face in her hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

I shrug. “We don’t have a choice. It’s just us here.”

She peeks at me through her fingers. “Still!”

After a long pause, she exhales sharply. “Fine!" “This is so worse!” she mutters.

I chuckle. “At least we’ll be clean.”

She grumbles but doesn’t argue.

And so, in our strange little world, even washing clothes becomes a ridiculous challenge. But somehow, we manage—awkward, embarrassed, but surviving together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But suddenly, it seems Wonyoung has realized survival takes priority over everything else. Embarrassment, modesty—those things start to feel pointless.

To my surprise, Wonyoung just… pulls her dress over her head.

I freeze. My brain short-circuits as the gorgeous Wonyoung directly takes off her clothes near me, her medium sized breasts with pretty pink nipples, a luscious curvy figure that takes my breath away. Her natural scent is divine yet there's a hint of dirt clinging to her perfect skin. Now as soon as she also takes off her smelly and dirty underwear the same time, I see her pussy is hairy, maybe she doesn't shave it often. I keep looking in at her hungrily, finding every aspect of Wonyoung naked incredibly sexy.

She throws her dress and underwear onto a sea, standing now in nothing but her bare skin, completely unbothered. “You should do the same,” she says casually. “It’s just us, anyway.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I swallow hard, staring at the ground now. “Uh… are you sure about this?”

She shrugs. “Why not? Clothes are useless if they’re this filthy. We might as well just stay like this.”

I feel my face burning. “I mean… isn’t that a little—”

She raises an eyebrow. “What? Weird? Embarrassing?” She sighs. “At first, yeah. But think about it—we’re stuck here, just the two of us. Why should we care?”

I can’t argue with that logic. She’s right. There’s no one else. No society. No rules.

Still, I hesitate.

She smirks slightly. “You’re overthinking it.”

I exhale, then slowly pull off my shirt. Then my pants. The air feels strange against my skin, but at the same time… freeing.

Wonyoung smiles. “See? Not so bad.”

And just like that, we accept our fate. No more shame, no more awkwardness—just two survivors, stripped of everything, living in the most natural way possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As now I'm naked as well, Wonyoung starts to look at my rod standing at attention. I caught her biting her lips and smiling, which I found adorable. She playfully teases, 'I can't help it, it's so…funny!' I blush furiously and retort, 'Hey, don't laugh!'". I'm confused why the heck Wonyoung is laughing at my dick? Maybe she has never seen one before?

"You look funny naked, especially with that thing down standing out of nowhere so hard" Wonyoung teases.

I'm sure Wonyoung knows herself why my dick is hard at the moment. It only get this way when there's a pretty hot girl around. Also the fact, Wonyoung is naked herself too. Wonyoung's stomach makes a noise again, its time for food and we realize we should start hunting for survival.

Yesterday we survived on wild fruits & coconuts, and anything remotely edible that we can scavenge. But soon, we realize that if we want to stay strong, we need real food ~ fish.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wonyoung figures out that if we trap fish in small tidal pools near the shore, we can just grab them with our hands. It’s tricky, but with patience, we manage to catch a few.

Since we don’t have pots or pans, we cook the fish directly over a fire. We create a simple fire pit using dry wood and stones. We skewer the fish on sticks and roast them over the flames until they’re cooked through.

The first bite of was Incredible. We eat in silence, both of us savoring the moment. Wonyoung licks her lips, grinning. “I never thought I’d be this happy just eating a burnt fish.”

I laugh, nodding at her words.

As night falls, the temperature on the island drops, and the once-refreshing breeze turns into a chilling wind. Its getting cold. Yesterday we had our clothes but this morning, upon Wonyoung's idea, I also threw my clothes and we're both naked still.

With no clothes, no blankets, and only a small fire to keep us warm, the cold becomes a real problem.

At first, we try to endure it, huddling close to the fire, wrapping ourselves in large leaves, anything to stay warm. But nothing works.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wonyoung shivers beside me, hugging herself tightly. “This isn’t working,” she mutters, her teeth slightly chattering.

I sigh. I’m freezing too. Then, reluctantly, Wonyoung says, “There’s only one thing we can do.”

I looks at her, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

She hesitates. “Body heat. If we stay close, we’ll be warmer.”

I stare her for a second, then exhale, shaking my head. “I can’t believe this…” But then, after another shiver, I mutter, “Fine. But don’t get any ideas. I try to be positive, trying my best to be a gentleman ”

But Wonyoung seems to have something in her mind, she has been trying a little to seduce me even in this kind of survival condition ever since we both got naked.

We move closer, our bare skin pressing together. The warmth is immediate, awkward at first, but undeniable.

She rests her head against my shoulder, her body still tense. “I love this,” she whispers.

Slowly, her body relaxes against mine, and I feel my own muscles easing. The cold doesn’t bite as much anymore.

After a few moments of silence, she sighs. “You’re warm…”

I smirk. “So are you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wonyoung hugs me tigher, her chest pressing over mine. I can feel the size of her breasts, I have never grabbed them yet with my hands. I feel so good as well as her skin presses over mine more tightly..

Wonyoung and I can see the full moon together, it looks beautiful.

And just like that, we fall asleep, two survivors, pressed together against the cold, finding warmth in the only way we can.

The next morning, fever hits me suddenly. One moment, I’m fine, tired but fine. My body feels like it’s burning from the inside. My limbs are weak, my vision blurry, and every breath feels heavy.

I collapse near our shelter, barely able to keep my eyes open. Wonyoung rushes over, panic written all over her face.

“Hey! What’s wrong?” She kneels beside me, pressing a hand to my forehead. The moment she touches me, she gasps. “You’re burning up…”

I try to respond, but my throat is dry, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m… just tired…”

She bites her lip, looking around as if searching for a solution. “You’re Sick OH God!!"

Wonyoung has gotten emotional. She swallows hard, taking a shaky breath.

For the first time, I see her cry.

Even in this desperate situation, I hate seeing her like this. I slowly reach out, grabbing her trembling hand. “Hey… I’m not dead yet.” I try to smile, but even that takes too much effort.

She sniffles and squeezes my hand tightly. “You better not die,” she whispers. “I can’t be alone here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, Wonyoung stays by my side, cooling my forehead with wet leaves, giving me water, whispering words of reassurance even when she thinks I’m asleep.

And in my fevered haze, I realize something—she’s not just the famous girl I once admired from afar. She’s not just my survival partner. She might be someone special in my life.

The fever doesn’t break overnight, that day Wonyoung does all the job, cooking the fishes and finding survival resources. My body feels weak, my head heavy, and every movement sends waves of exhaustion through me. But Wonyoung never leaves my side.

She brings me water from the stream, carefully tilting a coconut shell to my lips. “Drink,” she murmurs. Her voice is soft but firm, her eyes filled with worry.

I manage a few sips before resting my head back down. “Thanks…” I whisper.

She sighs, brushing my damp hair back. “You’re burning up.”

That night, as the cold wind howls through our shelter, Wonyoung presses herself against me, wrapping her arms around my body. “This should help,” she whispers. “You need warmth.”

I’m too weak to argue, and honestly, her body heat is comforting. She rests her head against my chest, holding me close. She takes care of my body.

At some point, I groan, my muscles aching all over.

She notices immediately. “Does it hurt?”

I nod weakly.

Without hesitation, she shifts, her delicate hands moving to my shoulders. Slowly, gently, she starts massaging me, her fingers pressing into my tense muscles. She also gave me a handjob at the middle. I don’t even know if I should count it as lewd since we have been naked together and staying like this for 2 days already, but this is the first time she grabbed my dick with her hands.

“Relax,” she whispers. “You always do everything for us. Just let me take care of you.”

Her hands move down my arms, across my back, easing the knots of pain. Her touch is soft but firm, careful yet reassuring.

For the first time in days, I feel a little better.

I close my eyes, letting her warmth, her touch, her presence lull me into much-needed rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wonyoung asks, “Do you think the war is over?”

I exhale, shaking my head. “I don’t know.”

She stares at the horizon. “What if… no one is left?”

I glance at her. “What do you mean?”

She hugs herself tighter. “Last time we saw the world… there were nukes being launched. Countries were falling apart. If the war is over, does that mean someone won? Or does it mean no one is left to fight anymore?”

A heavy silence falls between us. The thought is terrifying, but not impossible.

I swallow. ���Even if there are survivors, do you think anyone would look for us? We’re on some random, uncharted island. We don’t even know if this place is on any map.”

Wonyoung’s expression darkens. “We could be doomed.”

I don’t want to believe that. But deep down, I know she might be right.

She rests her head on my shoulder. “It’s just us now,” she whispers.

I wrap an arm around her, pulling her close. “Then we survive. No matter what.”

“But if we are the only ones left…” Wonyoung hesitates. “Should we… you know… repopulate?”

The word hangs in the air, heavier than anything we’ve ever spoken before.

I swallow hard. “You’re asking if we should have kids?”

She nods slowly. “It’s what humans do, right? Continue the species.”

The idea makes sense, logically. But something about it feels too real.

I exhale. “That’s a big decision.”

She glances at me, her cheeks slightly flushed. “I know. But if the world is gone… doesn’t that mean we’re responsible for rebuilding it?”

I run a hand through my hair, trying to process. “It’s not just about responsibility. We’d be bringing a child into a world with no hospitals, no medicine, no help. It’d be dangerous.”

She bites her lip, thinking. “Yeah… but if we don’t, then when we die, that’s it. The end of humanity.”

Silence. The fire crackles between us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pt2:

Wonyoung finally sighs, shaking her head. “Maybe I’m overthinking.”

After some while, Wonyoung asks, "Do you want some special comfort?"

Without understanding what special comfort she meant, I nodded yes.

Wonyoung winks and positioned her face between my legs. Her hands reach up to gently caress my thighs, sending shivers through my body. Leaning in slowly, I suddenly feel her pink tongue extends and swirls around the tip of my dick. A soft gasp escapes her as she tastes me, her eyes never leaving mine. She takes the head into her warm, inviting mouth.

I feel my full length inside her mouth. I finally realized Wonyoung is giving me a blowjob already. Wonyoung pulls back a bit. She grins, still stroking me gently. "Mmm…you like that y/n?" She teases before taking me deep again, bobbing her head with purpose now.

"Wonyoung, are you serious right now? You're a famous idol… I can't believe ur doing this!?!" I say.

Wonyoung replies, "Well, I don't think there's anyone left in the world. We should start reproducing already!." She continues taking my length more inside her mouth.

I realize Wonyoung must be feeling emotional, and that I'm the only person in her life now. It doesn't matter if I'm attractive or not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wonyoung is absolutely magnificent as she works to please me with her lips and tongue. Her tongue dances against the sensitive under side of my dick each time I hit the back of her mouth. She gazes up at me with desire, her cheeks hollowing as she takes me deeper still. Every flick, suck and lick from Wonyoung feels heavenly, it's clear she was made for this. I can't hold back my cries of pleasure - "Oh wow, Wonyoung please stop, you are amazing at this!"

Wiping a strand of saliva from her chin after she finishes sucking my rod, Wonyoung sits up and spreads her legs wide. Her thick bush of dark hair beckons me forward. "Alright, enough pleasing you. I want the same feeling as well. Mind eating my hairy pussy now?" she commands.

"Are you serious? But I'm sick!" I reply to her command.

"Oh right", Wonyoung pauses, a look of determination crossing her face. "Can't stand or return the favor hmm?" She grins slyly. "No problem, I can adapt." She positions herself above me, her beautiful eyes twinkling. "Here, I'll just…sit right down."

And with that, Wonyoung lowers herself, her vertical lips parting as she envelops my face in her warmth. I feel her weight settle on my face as she slowly sits on my face, her pussy hair tickling my nose.

I get flashbacks of watching Wonyoung's performance through my screen at home last year before the war started. It's exactly that same ass! Now that ass is about to be buried all over my face.

As Wonyoung lowers herself onto me fully, I am enveloped by her feminine heat and scent from her ass… She is totally face sitting on me.. Wonyoung is now riding my face!

Eager to please, I decide to really explore Wonyoung's shithole. Gently I spread her ass cheeks further apart, gazing at her tight little bud. I push my tongue forward deep, pushing more deep into Wonyoung's most intimate place. Inside her anus, my tongue meets warm, velvety smooth walls that grip me gently. A faint musky scent fills my senses as I wiggle and stroke within her sensitive rim.

My tongue inside her asshole is absorbing up every sticky morsel. The taste is intense, earthy and undeniably naughty. I delve deeper, driven by an urge to clean every inch of her filthy depths.

Her inner walls clench and grip my probing tongue as I feel the wet, dirty texture inside her tight little shithole. It's a decadent mess inside here. Oh fuck, Am I really eating her wet messy holes as she commands?

Shee gasps but then urges me, "Deeper...stick your tongue in!".

I oblige, slowly working my tongue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her ass shakes over my head with a playful excitement from taking in charge, she still asks teasingly, "Is OK?"

I nod, surrendering to pleasure her. My tongue extends, lapping up her slick nectar. She tastes divine. I feel her move, grinding against my mouth harder. She shifts a bit and my tongue finds her hairy wet pussy, making her bite her lip and smile wider.

I eagerly lap up every drop of her juices, my tongue tracing her folds and circling her engorged clit. I suck the bud into my mouth, flicking it while my hands press against her thighs for balance. Wonyoung gasps, riding my face harder. I insert my tongue as deep as it will go inside her within her wetness.

Wonyoung grinds down harder, inviting me to continue. I oblige, gently probing at her holes with more intention now. The salty-sweet taste of mixing her essence on my tongue drives me wild. Wonyoung cries out, clearly enjoying using me completely.

"Mmm…you're so good with that tongue, I just can't resist returning the favor!" Wonyoung cries. She leans down, taking my throbbing length back into her mouth. Now our bodies form a delightfully lewd 69 position - me eating her treasure while she continues to suck me off.

Her hips move in a sensual rhythm, grinding her wetness all over my face as I feel the base of my shaft hit her throat each time she takes me deep.

Our 69 is smooth and rhythmic now, both of us falling into it as the ecstasy builds. My tongue works her clit in firm circles while I thrust my tongue as deep as possible into her tight back doorway. Wonyoung's mouth moves expertly along my shaft, her lips sealed tight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just when I think it can't get more intense, I feel a warm fluid against my chin and mouth. "Oh my god, I'm sorry!" Wonyoung cries out. But I don't pull back - I simply extend my tongue, catching her pee with every skillful lick. She trembles above me as she finishes, spent. A mixture of her fluids coats my face but I don't mind one bit, still savoring her completely.

Against my will, I'm forced to drink down her warm, tangy urine. It's strong and acrid on my tongue but I obediently swallow, NOT wanting to displease Wonyoung. She seems shy now, her cheeks flushed crimson.

"Here, let me make it better." She whispers. Wonyoung begins gently licking my face with her soft, pink tongue. She methodically cleans every inch, the bitter taste slowly fading. When she reaches my lips she takes me into her mouth again, our tongues meeting. She swallows some of her own urine back from my mouth as we have a mouthful french kiss. Her eyes closed, slipping her tongue into my mouth. There it mixes with my saliva too, a lewd, taboo French kiss. When she finally breaks the kiss, her eyes search mine - a mix of apology and invitation.

She again engages me in a deep and soulful kiss. Wonyoung breaks the kiss, her eyes glinting with newfound desire. She stands up now. "I hope you can forgive me," she purrs before sitting over my shaft. Wonyoung positions herself now ready to ride my dicm. "Now fuck me…fuck me hard, its time for reproduction already! Forget the humanity outside! Theres no one left!" she screams.

She cries out as I claim her. I watch my rod disappearing between her thighs, feeling her walls tighten around me. "Yes, that's it!, Oh my god I can't believe I'm having my first time!" Wonyoung moans as she rides my dick hard. Our bodies connect with a primal rhythm as I punish her core. I know I won't last long after that intense buildup. "Don't stop!" she gasps, pulling me deeper. I'm determined to satisfy us both.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tears spring to her eyes but she keeps crying out "Yes yes yes!".. Wonyoung is literally screaming and riding me at the middle of the island. We don’t know what's happening outside in the real world. But here, it seems we both are actually enjoying. Birds and insects are watching us fuck in the silent island. The island is full of her screams and cries in pleasure.

Wonyoung starts bouncing on my rod harder. Each deep thrust draws out prolonged, wailing cries from Wonyoung's lips: "AHH! AHHH PLEASE!". Wonyoung leans down upon my mouth for a kiss now.

She breathes, "You're taking me so well", "but I'm not nearly done with you yet until u cum inside me."

Wonyoung's forcefully kisses me deep and moans. "Ahh, please, I can't.. Cum already.!" she cries desperately, a mix of fear and excitement in her voice.

Wonyoung screams again, her voice rising in pitch as I cum inside her "OOOOHHH!"

Wonyoung feels the sticky white cum fill inside her. Its a big load. She still continues riding, but now Wonyoung feels something tear inside her… "You…you tore me," she whispers, eyes wide.

I push her away from my dick, I see a mess down in her pussy. Its full of my sperm and cum, her insides must have broken and torn apart since its her first time. "It hurts but we succeeded. I'm probably finally pregnant!." Wonyoung cries.

I get emotional too. I hug Wonyoung, and as she hugs me back, we hold each other with love, and I can feel her warmth and heartbeat. Inside Wonyoung is a complex mix of emotions and physical sensations.

I can't believe it, did I actually breed Wonyoung, the most popular K-pop girl? This feels so real, it’s definitely not a dream! Yes, thats right! If I and Wonyoung are really the only humans left, the next world generation will be descendants of us!

[sugarwarachan]

summary: A city-wide blackout leads to some questionable decisions on Eraserhead's part: for four nights in a row now, Aizawa Shouta has been watching you get yourself off. Is tonight the night he joins in? pairing: aizawa shouta x reader wc: 1.7k content warnings: SMUT mdni, dark content, stalker!aizawa, stalking, voyeurism, dubcon, power imbalance (pro hero/civilian, ya know) voice kink, dirty talk, aizawa's big dick, truly don't know if his quirk helps him see in the dark but i don't care

The watching starts before Aizawa knows how to stop it.

One minute, he’s on patrol during the worst blackout the city’s ever seen; the next, he’s looking into your room and watching you get undressed.

You stopped him dead in his tracks, all plush curves and soft skin, almost otherworldly in the cool blue dark. Maybe that’s why he stayed that first time, frozen on the ledge of a neighboring building, watching you writhe and whimper on a purple dildo.

He has no excuse for why he returns the second and the third night, only that he's hungry for more, that the cover of dark in a still imperiled city is making it easier for him to accept the dark desire churning in his veins that he needs to know exactly what you sound like when you stuff yourself full.

He takes a shaky breath, cold air stinging his cheeks. Darkness blankets the city as thoroughly as gauze, a hazy film that puts anyone with eyes that aren’t his at a disadvantage.

He can see you perfectly, surrounded in your bedroom by candles and wearing those sleep shorts that hug the meat of your ass so well he has to palm his dick roughly through his pants, grunting into his fist.

You can’t see him.

Aizawa pulls out a burner phone before he can stop himself and punches in your number. Your face scrunches adorably at the unfamiliar caller, but you answer all the same.

“Hello?”

Fuck. You’ve got a voice like heaven, soft and low and sweet.

“Hi,” is all he can think to say, and he sucks in a breath when your nipples pebble under your thin cami.

You like his voice already. That’s good. He can work with that.

“Who is this?”

You’d be lying if you didn’t already have a suspicion. Just because you don’t have a quirk doesn’t mean you don’t have senses; you clocked him the first night he watched you out in that expansive dark, the gleam of something like goggles shining in the dark.

You don’t know why you kept touching yourself, why his gaze on you made your heart race instead of reach for the phone to call the cops.

Not much good they’d do anyway. They’d just send Mr. Pro Hero outside, or someone like him.

“Does it matter who I am?”

His voice is everything you like. Deep and rumbling, a little rasp raking over the syllables and zipping up your spine.

“Guess not.” You shrug one shoulder; the strap of your cami slides down. On cue, you hear the faintest inhale of air. Dude must have fucking super vision. “Why did you keep coming back?”

You almost roll your eyes at how off-route your priorities are. There’s been a man watching you fuck yourself, and you’re hung up on specifics?

“You’re beautiful,” he says, simply, like he’s rattling off stock prices, but it makes your heart stop all the same. “Why is it you’re alone?”

You can't help but laugh. “You’re not pulling the ‘you’re too pretty to be alone’ card, are you?”

He laughs, too, a soft rumble that crackles the phone with static. “So what if I am? The only action I’ve seen you get the past few days is when that toy of yours disappears between your legs.”

Arousal knocks the wind out of you. Heat flushes up your hairline.

Another low chuckle on his end. “Embarrassed, pretty girl?”

You walk up to the window, peer out into the dark night. You can’t make anything out other than shadows.

“How many times have you watched me now?”

“You don’t know? Seemed like you were putting on a show.”

His teasing tone makes your cunt clench.

“Four days now, sweetheart,” like he’s counting down your anniversary, not how often he’s spied on you masturbating. “What were you thinking about last night that had you shuddering and gasping like that? Knew I had to get your number just so I could hear you fall apart.”

This is wrong this is wrong this is wrong is blaring on repeat in your head, but that’s increasingly falling to the wayside with every word that falls out of this stranger’s mouth. Your sleep shorts slide between your folds. Blood rushes in your ears as your heart beats in your throat. You feel so turned on it’s like every cell is alight, responding to the chemical reaction that is the man on the other side of the window.

It’s cold tonight. The window sticks just like it always does when you open it up, the cool night air a balm for your arousal-drenched skin.

You don’t address him; you’re not really sure why, but you like not knowing where he is, a figure in the dark hell bent on nothing more than watching you cum.

You settle back down on your bed, crossing your legs and groaning a little. You’re damp and sticky and so turned on it’s already starting to hurt.

“I was thinking about you,” you answer honestly. "I like your voice.” Your own shakes, with a mixture of lust and fear and excitement. “Can you talk to me?”

“Of course I can talk to you.” His voice drops another octave, takes on an even more gravelly tone. Your whole body erupts in goosebumps. “What’s my pretty girl wanna hear?”

“Anything,” you say, and you mean it. This man could probably read you the directions to a microwave meal and get you off. “You can see me, right?”

“Mmhmm,” he intones.

“Then tell me how to touch myself. Like if you were here.”

Aizawa crushes the phone in his grip so tightly he hears it crack.

You’re already squirming on your bed, sitting on your fucking hands like you’re waiting for permission. His heart kicks up against his ribs, his cock jumping violently against his uniform.

“I can do that, sweetheart.”

You smile, tuck your chin into your chest like his attention is all of a sudden making you shy. He wonders if you’re doing it to tease him, or if he’s bringing it out of you. It doesn't matter either way; he's harder than he's been in his entire life.

“Lay back down on the bed for me, yeah?” You comply instantly. “Make sure I can see that gorgeous cunt, baby, don’t be hiding from me.”

Your breath hitches. You scoot forward just enough, and the flickering candlelight plays over your skin like water. His mouth dries up at the sight.

“Spread yourself open, use those pretty hands of yours.”

You part your folds, the pad of your middle finger gathering up the arousal pooling between your legs. “Jesus—fuck—look at you, gorgeous. All that just for me?”

He sees you nod.

“You gotta talk to me too, sweetheart. Use that cute mouth of yours.”

You choke out a little whine that blacks out his vision.

“S-sorry. I don’t understand how it feels so fucking good already.”

Your hips move in little circles, chasing your release.

“How many toys do you have there with you?”

“A few. Why?”

“Which is the biggest?”

You huff out a disbelieving giggle. “You’re not doing that thing where you lie about your endowments, are you?”

The grin that crosses his mouth is wild, hungry. He wasn’t planning on touching himself tonight; only wanted to tease you in the dark until he splattered the front of his pants like a teenager. But your tone is making him ignore his earlier impulses as he tugs out his cock and snaps a photo of it, hard and heavy and leaking in his palm.

He sends it.

You’re silent for a moment. He sees your legs press together before he hears—

“Fuck,” you whimper, so desperately it’s like he can see your mouth water. “I don’t—I don’t have anything as big as you.”

His cock literally jumps in his hand. Pre-cum oozes from the tip; he stuffs it back into his briefs before he can change his mind.

“You can’t tell me things like that. Makes me want to climb through your window and stuff you full with what you really need.” The muscles in his stomach bunch as he fights for composure. “Take out that purple toy of yours. It’ll be enough for now, ‘kay princesss? Don’t whine for things you can��t have.”

It’s an admonishment to himself, too.

“Don’t turn it on just yet. Get it all nice and wet, pretty girl, I know you’re fucking dripping.”

You follow instructions in a way that soothes the miasma of thoughts in his head. Here the world makes sense again. Here he can do good.

“Can I know your name?” You pant. He watches you trace small caresses across your belly, the soft undersides of your tits.

God, he wants his teeth on you, devouring you whole.

Against his better judgement, he tells you. “Sho is fine.”

“Okay. Sho,” you breathe it out in an overdrawn sexy drawl, but fuck, even his shortened name is enough to make that low-belly punch of arousal spike.

“Inch that toy in nice and slow, honey, go on now, stop being a tease.” He watches the tip start to part you open, your ragged gasp harsh in his ear. “If I was there, we’d be stretching out your little cunt for hours, make sure you’re ready for me. I could probably sit you on just the tip of my dick and make you cum. Isn't that right, sweetheart? You're fucking shaking and I haven't even touched you—”

“Sho,” you’re pleading, and it’s making his head fucking spin. “Can I turn it on, please? Let me turn it on—”

“Of course you can, baby, that’s it, look at you.” Your legs are spread obscenely, arousal dripping from your hole, glistening on your thighs and core. “Show me you how you like it, sweet girl, show me how you want me to fuck you next time, yeah?”

Aizawa feels each shuddering gasp and keening moan like you’re there beside him. Your orgasm overtakes you, back bowing off the bed, his name like a prayer on your lips. His hips jerk as he watches you, one hand tight on the phone, the other pressing against the pulsing-hot ache of his cock as he ruts into his palm.

His phone pings a moment later as he's catching his breath, a too-dark picture of the mess between your thighs and a text:

[y/n]: Come back tomorrow <3

a/n: actively launching myself into outer space!!! part two!

[cursingtoji]

“hm hello? do you need help?” yuuji approached the lady walking the hallways so slowly she seemed lost.

“huh?” you turned and he smiled, thinking how gorgeous you looked. your uniform was a lot like nobara’s, although it was lighter, like it was slightly bleached or just worn a lot, “no, i… i go here.”

“oh are you gojo-sensei’s student too?” he was excited to meet another student, it was such a big school for just a few people.

“gojo… sensei” you repeated confused.

“oh you must be utahime-sensei’s student then? from kyoto?” he tilted his head, like a puppy.

“utahime…” you whispered, “is geto here?” you asked with a certain urgency in your voice, “geto suguru.”

“who? geto?” he scratched his head, trying to remember if he heard about a sensei called geto suguru, “i don’t think i—“

“itadori!” megumi called from outside, yuuji saw him below through the open windows of the second floor he was at, his classmate probably saw him as well.

“ah fushiguro!” he greeted his friend and turned back to you, “i’ll ask megumi, he’s been here for longer than me.”

“who you talking to?!” megumi shouted.

“her!” he pointed, you were in front of him, right by the opened window too, he couldn’t see you?

megumi even moved a bit, “itadori, there’s no one there. stop playing, we got to leave!” megumi scolded him before entering the building.

“eh?” yuuji was frowning.

“sorry, i think i’m in the wrong place” you bowed and turned away running.

“wait!” he ran after you, turning corners he thought you could’ve gone but after a few ones he reached a dead end.

“hm? yuuji?” gojo emerged from a classroom.

“gojo-sensei! there was… someone…” he looked around.

“oi, we’re waiting for you, let’s go” megumi came from where he was, grabbing yuuji by the hood of his uniform and dragging him away.

gojo watched through a window as they walked down the staircase until both boys walked out of the building.

“that was weird” you murmured from inside the classroom he was in, “that boy called you sensei” you put more rice into your hungry mouth, “does yaga know you’re pretending to be a teacher here?”

satoru closed the door, lighting another incense on the table that you used to sit. where every year on the anniversary of your death he built a shrine with food you liked.

“i thought haibara was on a mission but i saw him by the tree” you pointed behind you with your chopsticks, where, outside the classroom and behind the building remained the tree you always had lunch underneath during hot summer days.

satoru undid the blindfold, letting his hair fall as he sat in front of you, admiring how you never aged a day. after all, you couldn’t.

in fact, it seemed like you didn’t realize how much time has passed. every year you appeared and every year you thought it was still 2006, when you had two kouhais that did everything you asked, a girl best friend that insisted you smoked with her and two boys that were helplessly in love with you. the last year you were alive.

“is suguru not coming?” you asked with your mouth full.

gojo swallowed hard, “no, angel. it’s just us.”

[pukefactory]

Since yandere requests are acceptable, could I please ask for headcanons of yandere ENA (dream bqq) and female (human) researcher who by freak accident got stranded in ENA's dimension and is now trying to find her way back to her own dimension? Thank you for considering. 🖤

•☽────✧˖°˖ I KNOW YOU LIKE IT ˖°˖✧────☾•

★ Summary: A Compilation of Headcannons Featuring Yandere Salesperson Ena X Female Researcher Reader

★ Character(s): Salesperson Ena (Ena: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

★ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

★ Image Credits: @JoelG

☆ “You must be new around here.” That’s how it starts. With Salesperson Ena, grinning sharp like a lottery win you can’t return. Your arrival—a scientific accident—deeply intrigues her. A human? An organic mind with independent thought? “This could be a divinely disruptive merger of assets,” she says, practically purring as she paces around you in a flicker-dizzy showroom fantasy. You’ve barely opened your mouth to explain when she slaps a sticky “Property of Ena Industries” sticker to your lab coat and smiles. “Trademark acquired.” You laugh awkwardly. Surely she’s joking. Surely.

☆ The Meanie side doesn’t like jokes. She doesn’t like the way you flinch when the megaphones scream. She doesn’t like how your brain stutters and stalls trying to process the physics-defying structures of this dimension. “Stupid researcher,” she hisses one day, when you try to explain gravity to a cube with feelings. “You think you’re so smart, but you’re too soft to survive here. You’ll die without me, you dumb infant.” But you don’t cry. You just stare at her and say quietly, “I want to go home.” She freezes. Then, softly, she whispers: “…So do I.”

☆ Your notes are missing. Your tools vanish. Your portable interdimensional frequency reader is now a frog-shaped potato. “Coincidences,” Ena chirps, biting into a jello telephone. “You must’ve misplaced your science. Happens all the time. Why don’t you rest instead? You’re stressed. I can tell.” Every time you get closer to building a way back, something explodes or goes wobbly. Ena is always nearby. Always helpful. Always watching with that fractured glee, like she’s waiting for you to break the way she did.

☆ “You make my brain feel like a scream and a lullaby,” she says one night. She curls beside you, muttering about the frogs and the sky again. She can’t sleep unless she knows where you are. You caught her watching you once—standing beside your bed with her mitt-shaped hand resting on your throat, not pressing, just… measuring. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. She whispered, “If I hold you still, will the world stop moving?”

☆ She gets jealous. But not in the normal way. Once, a mannequin offered you a map. You took it. Ena’s smile split down the middle and her red side giggled, “Unregulated information-sharing! That’s dangerous~” then her yellow side intercepted, “TRAITOR!” and chucked the mannequin into the ocean. You’ve learned to reject help now. You look at her first before speaking to anyone. “See?” she says proudly, looping her arm through yours. “We’re synergizing.”

☆ The green face comes out when she thinks you might leave. No matter how strong she pretends to be, the minute your eyes light up with discovery—when you say “I think I found a way back,”—the green bleeds through. The cracks. The eyes. The desperation. She starts glitching around you, calling you by your first name in voices that are too soft, too shaken. Her claws tremble. “Please, don’t fire me from your heart. I—I still have stock left to sell you. Just—stay. Staystaystaystay—” She slaps herself, swaps to red again, and smiles like she didn’t just bleed neon from her mouth. “Let’s pivot from that pitch. You hungry?”

☆ She keeps trying to make this a “date.” Everything is a date. Running from hollow-eyed puppets? A “team-building exercise.” Getting ambushed by memory-hungry toads? “Picnic! How romantic!” You don’t want to play along. You want out. But one day you do laugh. Just once. And she looks stunned. Like she won a prize. “…That was real,” she says, breathless. “You actually… felt something good here. With me.” Then she cries quietly when she thinks you aren’t looking.

☆ She talks to your reflection. Not to you. To the warped version of you in the chrome-tar mirror across the lounge. “You understand, don’t you?” she whispers to it. “She’ll see one day. I can reshape her. Add value. Reduce her chaos.” Your reflection nods. Smiles. You don’t. You back away. But when you turn around, Ena is right there. “Mirror, mirror,” she whispers, tilting her head. “You know who’s best for her.”

☆ You try to run. Of course you do. She lets you. Of course she does. She’s watching through vending machines and forgotten satellites, trailing behind in corridors you swear weren’t there before. “Oh noooo, you’ve escaped! What a tragedy!” she shouts with that smile too wide. “Guess I’ll have to hunt you, cage you, peel open your ribcage and climb in like a very silly sleeping bag—!” She tackles you softly when she finally catches up. Presses her cheek to yours. “Don’t be mad. I only chase what’s mine.”

☆ You ask her, “Why me?” You shouldn’t have. She chuckles then she cups your face in both mismatched hands, staring so close you can see binary errors flickering in her pupils. “Because,” she breathes, “You fell into this world. That’s not science. That’s fate.” She leans closer. Her smile is unhinged. “And I will make you love me if it kills me.” …And for a terrifying moment, you think she means it literally.

[silverskyeline]

ੈ♡˳ 'yearning' - 18+ old man logan x gn!reader

summary: you're not his to think of, but he thinks of you anyway. OR old man logan jerks off in his limo thinking of you. (1k words) tags: masturbation, kinda angsty, logan doesn't think he deserves you, whiny and desperate logan, he lowkey whimpers a little, he imagines fucking you in different positions.

you're not his to think of, but he thinks of you anyway.

parked where no one will find him, engine switched off, interior sheltered in darkness, logan. . . thinks. of you. about you.

he can't help it, not really. he's tried to get you out of his head, had other pretty things bouncing on his cock, but none of them you. can't admit it, got no one to admit it to anyway, that it makes him mad - a rippling rage that bubbles beneath the surface of his scarred skin. the kind of anger that makes your fingers twitch for something, anything.

perhaps in time, logan will learn that it is not truly anger he is feeling, but yearning.

a particularly heated throb to his cock has him shifting in his seat, sighing exasperatedly as you flit through his mind. his brows flinch downwards, a scowl he wears all too well settling upon his face. he's too old for this, far too old to be indulging in some stupid fucking crush. if you could even call it that. logan wouldn't. but god, why couldn't he stop fucking thinking about you?

logan catches a glimpse of himself in the rear view mirror, shooting himself a scolding look. but it's futile. he does this dance every night, fights with himself until he gives in to the thought of you.

reluctantly, with a trembling hand, he begins to palm his hardening cock. his shoulders slump in relief, head melting back against the headrest as he gives in to his desires. he's tired, but hungry, tongue swiping out to wet his lips as he works to loosen his tie, unbuttoning his shirt as though it'll help him breathe. it won't. because the tightness remains. it's deeper, more than just surface level.

nothing will set him free, he thinks, trapped in a prison of his own making. would fucking you even fix him? he doesn't know, will never know. you're not his to think about, he reminds himself.

but your name falls from his lips as his large hand cups his clothed crotch, squeezing and grinding his length against his palm. the sight must be pathetic, logan thinks, but he'll continue to indulge in this escape he's created.

it's not enough though, he needs more. fingers fly to his belt, unbuckling and shoving a hand beneath the waistband of his boxers. he finds his dick, hard and ready, aching. god, it would just feel so fucking good to sink into you. he wonders how you'd sound, creating a symphony in his mind as he tries to calculate the exact pitch of your moans. you'd sing for him, sing real fuckin' loud, pulling gasps from your lips as he fucked you the way you deserve to be fucked.

logan strokes himself, long slow, agonising strokes that send shivers trickling down his spine. each pass has his thumb gliding up, brushing across his sensitive leaking tip, earning a low, rumbling groan from the back of his throat. he squeezes, his veins throbbing against his palm, free hand gripping the door handle for support as he fucks fervently into his fist.

and he imagines you, ass up, on all fours, head thrown back in ecstasy. he imagines you on your knees, those intoxicating, pleading eyes boring into his desperate gaze from below. but the imagery that really makes his knees weak is the one where you're on your back, pleading against his just out of reach lips for him to go faster while his firm hands hold your knees beside your head, folding you in half in the backseat of the limo.

"holy fuck," he grunts, a light pink flush falling across his cheeks and partly exposed chest. logan was gonna cum soon, could feel it building as his cock twitched in his harsh grip. how many times had he done this? he's lost count, because he thinks of you too often. far, far too often.

he finds himself pleading, begging into the air, hot desperate whispers and whimpers that dissipate into the clammy air of the limo. logan isn't one to beg, but with you, in these fantasies he's created. . . how can he not? you're too fuckin' perfect, too perfect, too good for him too.

the older man whines, a hopeless sound as he approaches release. wants to fill you, in whatever warm hole you'd let him, but instead here he is about to cum into his palm while thinking of you like some sort of teenager. it's stupid, this is all fucking stupid. but he can't stop.

his chest rises and falls rapidly, mouth falling open as quiet moans and filthy pleas and whispers of your name slip from his lips, bucking up into his hand at a feverish pace. his eyes flit to his own in the mirror, catching sight of his lust-filled expression and hazy eyes, but it only spurs him on, stroking his cock faster. he's in too deep.

all it takes is your face to drift into his mind one last time and he's exploding, cock spurting white hot ropes of cum across his hand, painting his suit pants. "that's it," logan groans to himself, accompanied only by fogged windows and the stillness of the night, "that's it, take my fuckin' cum. . ."

he works himself through his release, strokes slowing on his thick, cum-slicked shaft as his body relaxes. the cloud of lust at the forefront of his mind parts, leaving a bitter taste of loneliness in his mouth.

because every night he goes to bed alone, his sheets craving the scent of you, a place you'd fit so perfectly, he thinks. but he won't allow himself. it's easier this way - to keep you at a distance. so he'll remain the desperate old man getting himself off in his limo to thoughts of you just to get through the day if that's what it takes to keep himself safe. his heart's been broken more times than he can count, and he thinks. . . no, he knows once more will kill him. if he's lucky.

you're not his to think of, but he'll think of you anyway. and a dying part of himself that allows for childish things such as hope, yearns for you to think of him too.

[tiktaalic]

pa said the well's run dry he said the bank came out yesterday and said we're gonna have to sell the blog and get work in the city like the rest of folks less we can come up with something real quick. he was all ready to sign the papers today but i begged him to wait to give me time to find something anything and he sighed and said he could give me a week and not a minute more. and i nodded and i cried because he was right when he said there was next to nothing i could do and even if i did find a miracle. all our neighbors shuffled off weeks months years ago because the posts dried up and the bank came knocking. i break open my piggy bank hoping there's enough drafts in there to tide us over. i sit there. and i have to decide if it's worth spending everything i have just to buy us an extra day. and i know this extra day will consist of walking around mute and shellshocked. and i decide. it's worth it. i give pa all my drafts and he looks at me and shakes his head and his voice cracks when he says i better keep hold of those for getting settled in the city. i could fight him. i don't. i leave all my drafts on the table and storm out the back door. there must be something. they must have just missed it. pa says he knows this blog better than anyone. but i grew up here, same as him. and as much as he loves it, i love it more. when i was seven years old he tore the place apart looking for me after i wandered off. but i wasn't lost. i'd found a tag to play in, happy as could be. he never found me, or the tag, i just wandered back out when i got hungry. it's pa's blog, but it's my home. i know where the creeks and streams and ponds are. i know if i look hard enough, i can find a new posting well.

day one, i strike out. i wake up before dawn. i come in after dusk with no posts to show for it. pa's boxing up our plates when i walk in. he doesn't say anything. i don't either.

day two, i wander a further. yesterday, i was following a map with areas of interest marked in order of likelihood of success. today, i pick a direction and walk. i have more to show for it, if only barely. i get home with one bucket of posts. pa tells me i should keep them.

day three i wake up because pa's dragging furniture into the yard for a yard sale. when i ask him what he's doing he says he'd rather be paid flop drafts by our neighbors than flop drafts by the bank. i walk back inside. get my map. i get home after midnight with empty hands.

day four. when i wasn't looking, the cold single minded determination turned into fear. i'm realizing i'm running out of time. i'm realizing the reason pa didn't put up a fight is because he knew there was nothing out here. i could kill him. what kind of farmer depends on one well? my heart isn't in it today. i head out after noon. i'm back before dusk. there's been a stack of empty boxes sitting outside my room since pa told me the news. i haven't touched them. tonight, i take one and put away some of my things.

day five. there's more ground to cover. it's more out of a sense of completion than anything. so that when we're in the city, i can say, i did everything i could. i looked everywhere. this was the only option. i stop midday for a rest. the ground i put my palms on is curiously softer than the rest. i dig. it comes away easily. it turns into mud. heart thudding in my ears, i keep digging. the mud gives way to a trickle of posts. ears roaring. i keep digging. hands covered in mud. the trickle turns into a stream. i start yelling for pa. i'm too far from the house for him to hear me, but i'm not thinking about that right now. i'm thinking about the posts in front of me, clear and fresh. text posts. gifs. amvs. there's enough to live another twenty years on this blog. i splash my face. i laugh. i fill my bucket. i'll have to bring more. we'll have to get the pump set up. because there are enough new supernatural posts here for me and my children to build a life.

[missadangel]

The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x OC)

All Chapters List

VI. The Battle

this is the longest chapter i ever wrote , it was pain in the ass, so please be nice, reblog and hit a like, if you enjoy thank you :)

lupus est homo homini

A man to a man is a wolf. 

T. Hobbes

Temple of Saturn…

Saturnalia was by far the most joyous Roman festival; the Roman poet Catullus famously described it as ‘the best of times’. The festivities were so exuberant that the Roman writer Pliny is said to have had a soundproof room built so that he could work during the raucous celebrations. During Saturnalia, business and commerce would come to a standstill. Schools and courts were closed and normal social practices were suspended. The feast was celebrated with sacrifices and a public banquet in the Temple of Saturn in the Roman Forum.

People decorated their houses with garlands, even the exteriors of official buildings were decorated with greenery. People were dressed in different colours for this day, unlike their daily and official clothes. The streets of Rome were lively and colourful today.

You travelled to the temple with your half-brothers, Caracalla and his mother Julia Domna in the flamboyant carriage in front, and you and Geta - at his insistence - in the carriage behind them. Even though you felt that Geta was treating you more cordially now, you still couldn't be completely sure. But he was certainly different from Caracalla and his mother, they had a ruthless side that never changed, and you were sure that you could not trust them under any circumstances. 

Already the ostentatious temple was crowded with people, the Romans seemed to be enjoying the day of festivities.  They were shouting your names with great enthusiasm as you got out of the carriages and greeted them. One of them was handing you a bouquet of flowers when one of the guards blocked him. You told him to move away and thanked him as you took the flowers, he was so surprised and happy that he started dancing with joy. His mates joined him and chanted your name. Geta gave your arm a gentle but firm grip. 'You have to be a bit more careful. You never know what they'll do.'

'It's just a few flowers,' you replied. 'And why would they hurt me?'

He smiled, but his eyes showed his concern. 'You're so naive, sister. There's so much you have to learn. Let's get these ceremonies over with, I'm dying to get to the banquet.’

As you walked up the stairs of the temple, you noticed that he was still holding your arm. 

'Are you feeling better now?' you asked, trying to pull your arm back, but for some reason he wouldn't let go. It bothered you. 'Could I just ask you to let go of my arm, please?'

He paused and looked at you with his light brown eyes. He looked like he wanted to tell you something, but it was hard to know what emotion he was feeling. All of a sudden, he smiled. "I think the disgusting herbal concoction worked.'" He took his hand away and started up the stairs faster. You tried to keep up with him, but he was too fast, and Caracalla was waiting for him at the top of the steps. '"You're slow," he grumbled. Julia squinted at you and went inside. It seemed like you were going to have to get used to that look.

After the ceremony of sacrificing a young pig in front of the statue of the god Saturn, just between the tall white pillars inside the temple, Geta approached you as you prayed to the great statue then gestured you to outside and walked towards the stairs to leave, followed by Caracalla, who took his mother by the arm. You'd have to get used to walking side by side with them, but it still felt a bit strange. People were coming to the temple to sacrifice, just like you, and they were all turning to look at you and greet you. 

"I want to get to the palace for the banquet as soon as possible," Geta said, sounding a bit impatient.

"You must be hungry. You were busy this morning," he said quietly. 

You looked at him and said, "Yes, you're right, thanks again, by the way, much appreciated, highness."

"Oh, these stairs... Hold out your arm," he said in a commanding tone.

Geta was wearing a white and black toga with gold embroidery and it was very elaborate. He looked like he was struggling and didn't like you looking at him hesitantly. "Aren't you going to help me?"

You forced a smile and held out your arm for him to take. It was starting to feel a little strange that he wanted to touch you all the time, but you didn't object because you wanted to be on good terms as brother and sister.

You noticed an old woman approaching you just after descending the steps. One of the guards pushed her away and she fell to the ground. Geta ignored her, as did Caracalla and his mother. It bothered you so much that you let go of Geta's arm and walked over there.

You ignored the guard's warning and helped the woman off the floor. Her clothes were torn, dirty and old; she must have been a beggar. You felt sorry for her.

'What are you doing?' Geta was upset.

The woman bowed her head. 'My lady, thank you.'

You turned to Geta. 'Could I possibly borrow some coins?’

‘Get away from her, look at the way she's dressed, she's filthy.’ He was looking at her with a disgusted expression.

‘It's festival day and as emperor, shouldn't you embrace all your people?’

He opened his eyes wide. ‘Embrace? I can't even lay a hand on her!’ He balled his hands into fists and pulled them back as if trying to hide them.

‘I meant metaphorically,’ you rolled your eyes at him.

Geta took a moment to compose himself and gestured to one of his slaves, who came running over with a pouch full of coins. You took it from him and presented it to her.

'May the gods bless you, Lady Aurelia!' she said, falling at your feet. You graciously took her by the hand and lifted her up.

‘That is enough,' Geta said, grasping your arm and drawing you closer. As the woman prayed joyfully, the crowd began to murmur. 

“Long live Emperor Geta!” The crowd began to chant, "Long live Lady Aurelia!"

Geta was taken aback not by the fact that they were shouting his name, but rather by the proximity of the crowd. It was the first time he had ever felt so close to the people on the street.

'Please be sure to wash your hands thoroughly when you arrive at the palace,' he muttered.

You giggled and looked around as he greeted the people, but you did not see the general. He had said he was coming to the banquet anyway, so you got into the carriage with Geta, hoping to see him there, and you thought about him the whole way.

Domus Severiana…

As the sun began to set, casting the courtyard and kitchen of Domus Severiana in a golden glow, preparations were underway with great enthusiasm. The slaves were meticulously preparing a selection of exquisite dishes and beverages for the guests who were expected to take their place in the main courtyard. Julia was there to oversee the proceedings, offering guidance and encouragement to ensure everything was just right. Caracalla was already relaxing in one of the armchairs in the courtyard, enjoying an apple. When one of the slaves unfortunately stumbled and dropped the tray, he reacted with amusement, but then proceeded to issue a firm reprimand. While this was taking place in the main courtyard, you were in your room, discussing attire with Decima, when the door to your room suddenly opened. You were startled when Geta rushed in, as you wearing your long, thin tunic.

"Even if you're the emperor, it's always worth being polite, don't you think?"

He smiled. "Watch your tone. Who says I'm interested in your body anyway?" He looked away as a slave girl walked in. The girl was carrying a light turquoise silk cloth in her arms.

"You always wear the same style of dress, your hair the same way, you don't look like a princess. You should take some care of yourself. So this girl, what's her name, what's your name?”

“Nerissa, your highness-”

"Oh, whatever!" he interjected. "Make sure you dress her and do the princess's hair with care." He turned to you. "She's got amazing hands-on skills. You wouldn't believe what she can do. She's really talented," he said with a grin. 

She giggled. “Anything for my emperor.”

‘I'm assuming your whore friend isn't that talented,’ he said, narrowing his eyes, looking at Decima.

‘Please don't call her that,’ you snapped.

‘'Weren't you supposed to take her on my behalf? She's my slave, I can call her whatever I want,’ he said smugly.

It was true anyway as it was his name on the documents.

‘Still, courtesy is a virtue, brother.’‘

"Not for me,’ he said, grinning. ‘Get dressed now,’ he said, clapping his hands. “Join me in the main courtyard when you're done,” he said to his slave, then turned to you. “You too, sister."

You inhaled deeply when he left, you didn't like him barging into your room like that and talked badly about Decima.

He was acting like a naughty little child, as usual. 

'Please excuse him,' you said Decima.

She shook her head. 'Never mind, I'd rather put up with a lot of insults here than there as a whore. I'll always remember what you did for me.’

You gave her a hug. She felt like your real family; you valued her a great deal.

'He was right though, you need to get dressed,' Decima said, and with the help of the other girl they began to dress you. 

Meanwhile, you were thinking about Marcus. You were wondering if he'd arrived already. You hadn't seen him since morning and now you were getting impatient. Your answer to his marriage proposal is already set in your mind. But you were also worried about how Geta and Caracalla would react – it was hard to predict what they'd do.

'You were certainly born to be a princess, my lady,' she said, looking at you. 

Decima smiled. 'Indeed.'

You looked in the mirror and thought you looked pretty good in the turquoise gold embroidered dress and shawl, which matched the gold bracelets on your arms and the necklace around your neck. Geta was right – the girl had done your hair perfectly. One of the braids had gone over the top of your head like a crown and was pinned into the hair at the nape of your neck. 

'You're really talented. My brother was right.’

She gave a shy smile. 'I'm really pleased to be able to help prepare such a beautiful lady as you.'

You smiled back. 'Now, you can go to my brother. He seems to like you.'

Her cheeks flushed a little. It would be a good idea for you to get to know her better, since Geta seems to like her.

'Let me know if he's not feeling well, okay?' 'But you've got to keep it between us, can I trust you?'

'Of course, my lady.' She nodded.

Once she'd left the room, Decima came over to help you with your earrings. She still had bruises on her face.

'Have you been using the ointment I prepared for you?’

‘Yes, thank you, Ay-, my lady.’

‘Call me Aurelia when no one's around.’

‘I suppose, I'll have to get used to it.’

She combed the hair that was falling on your shoulder. 

'You stay in the room and rest for today.’ You said to her.

Although she was a bit reluctant at first, she agreed. It was already a very busy day, so no one would notice.

As you left your room and headed for the stairs, you found that the weight of the fabric made it a bit difficult to move your legs freely. You made your way down the stairs, grabbed hold of the gold-embroidered railing for support. As you strolled towards the main courtyard, your heart started to beat faster when you heard the sounds of masculine laughter coming from inside. Geta and Caracalla were sitting at the banqueting hall, enjoying the food and drink that was laid out in front of them. The members of the Senate, the patricians and their wives were already settled in their seats. Julia was sitting next to Caracalla, chatting with an older member of the Senate.

As soon as you entered the hall, you were the focus of everyone's attention, and the murmuring ceased. Even the slaves paused in their activities to observe you, but then they resumed their tasks. Geta stood up and approached you. "Look how gorgeous my sister is. Would you come and take your seat?" He gestured to the seat next to him. You smiled at him and did as he said, the murmuring had returned, now everyone was looking at you and chatting. But the only person you wanted to see, Marcus, was nowhere to be seen, and you looked around with a hint of disappointment. 

"My lady." Your cousin Gaius came over to you. "May I speak to you privately for a moment?" he held out his hand.

"Leave my sister alone and let her eat something, Gaius," Geta said, a little annoyed. He was still chewing the morsel in his mouth, and you pursed your lips to try to keep from laughing. Caracalla already laughed for you.

"That's alright, brother. I'll be right back," you said and stood up. Gaius seemed a little annoyed that you ignored his hand, but he regained his composure quickly. You were not particularly curious about what he was going to say, but it might be a good way to pass the time until the general arrived. As you walked slowly with Gaius from the main courtyard to the one close to the entrance, you realized he was becoming increasingly excited. 

"You look beautiful, Aurelia."

"Thank you," you replied, your gaze fixed on the entrance door. You wonder why he isn't here yet.

"I hope you don't mind me mentioning that I've kept your father's letter for years. I have been eagerly awaiting the opportunity to open it for quite some time. Hoping desperately.”

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it seems that after your mother's passing, your relatives in Leptis Magna were interested in offering you their protection. However, your father, my uncle, felt it was best to take a different approach, sending you away I mean.”

You were unexpectedly touched by the mention of your mother and found yourself standing in front of the statue of your father. "He was hopeful that you would return and reclaim your birthright, and that your brothers would accept you. Given my familiarity with them and the Empress, I believe he gave me this assignment," he said, looking at the statue. "I am truly honored to have been assigned the task of protecting you. I hope you will allow me to be of service to you in the future."

“In the future?”

Gaius smiled. "I would be able to protect you more easily if you would allow me to marry you."

You were momentarily at a loss for words. As you considered how to decline his proposal without offending him, you observed a figure moving across the main courtyard towards the banquet. It appeared to be a man wearing a red shawl over his shoulders. It seemed likely to be him. However, when he soon disappeared between the columns, you couldn't help but frown. You felt a desire to pursue him.

"My lady, will you not answer?" Gaius was waiting hopefully.

"Sir Gaius, I am truly flattered, but I am afraid I am unlikely to accept your offer."

“May I ask why?" His voice betrayed no hint of curiosity. Again, it seemed as though he already had an idea of the answer. You were not interested in engaging in a similar manner.

"I'm obliged to tell you that my heart belongs to someone else. I'm sorry, sir.”

He seemed rather unsurprised, which might give rise to some suspicion.

"I'm just asking you to think a little more, take your time."

"No matter how much I think about it, I'm fairly certain my answer won't change."

Gaius seemed angry.

"I would like to return to my brothers now," you said, your voice calm and measured. 

"As you wish, but I am a very patient man," he said with a smile and accompanied you towards the banquet hall.

You returned to the courtyard, your eyes seeking out his presence. You were relieved to see him right in front of Geta and Caracalla, and your spirits were lifted. Acacius looked quite splendid, wearing a long red shawl over his white tunic embroidered with gold and a large circular brooch pinned to his collar. 

He appeared to be engaged in conversation with the emperors. He was holding a wine glass of a blue hue. When Geta and Caracalla turned their heads towards you, he looked back. When you met his eyes, you smiled. He observed you with great interest.

"My lady," he greeted you.

"General Acacius, welcome," you nodded.

The General's attention was drawn to Gaius as he approached from behind, narrowed his eyes. "Sister, you might be interested to hear what General Acacius said to us." Geta said to you in a slightly louder voice.

”What is it?" You looked at the general and realized he was smiling.

"He wants our permission to marry you, how kind of him!”

“He always is." Caracalla said, leaning back in his chair and grinning. His slaves sitting around him, watching curiously.

Your cheeks were flushed, and you looked at him to explain, but Gaius interjected.

'General Acacius had the opportunity to speak with you first, and it was with the same intention that I wished to speak to your Majesties.'

Geta raised his eyebrows and looked at Caracalla, who seemed to display a certain degree of animosity whenever he saw Gaius. Julia muttered something. Caracalla responded to his mother's words with a lighthearted laugh. 

"I have already given you my answer, Sir Gaius," you said, looking at Geta. You were hoping he would reject him.

Acacius placed a hand to his chin and smiled in a way that seemed to indicate he was trying to suppress his laughter.

"As I told you I'm a patient man, my lady."

"Cut it off! I've had enough of your love intrigues!" Caracalla cried out in frustration. Macrinus was supposed to bring a gladiator. Where is he?"

"This is like a fight, brother. Don't you think? Two gentlemen against each other over a princess. Impressive.” Geta grinned.

The atmosphere was palpably tense as Acacius and Gaius exchanged unpleasant glances.

"I am here, your highness," Macrinus declared, appearing behind you. He was flanked by the gladiator slave you had seen earlier at his villa.

He gave Gaius a quick glance, then came to stand beside Geta.

‘My lady, please have a seat,’ the General said, gesturing towards the chair.

You smiled at him and did as he suggested, and he stood beside you. One of the slaves handed you some wine. You would have liked to talk to Marcus, but there were too many people around. Besides, he seemed to be watching Macrinus' gladiator with some unease. Geta and Caracalla, on the contrary, looked excited.

"So this is your gladiator?" Geta asked. 

‘It is.’

‘Very well, let's see what he can do.’ Caracalla grinned. 

At Macrinus' signal, the gladiator made his way to the center, and the people around him shifted slightly to give him space. 

Both men saluted the emperors and promptly drew their swords and advanced towards the gladiator, but he was swift and agile, evading their attacks and seizing one of the men by the elbow. He then disarmed him and struck him forcefully in the face with the back of his elbow. As the man was momentarily disoriented, the gladiator swiftly retrieved the sword and advanced towards the other man. The sound of swords clashing echoed through the hall, and a sword fight commenced between the two. The other man approached from behind, but the gladiator was able to avoid both the sword blow and the man's attack. He then grabbed the man by the waist, threw him to the ground, and hit him repeatedly in the face. 

Your entire body was visibly tense, your hands firmly grasping the fabric of your dress. Caracalla sat up in his chair and watched intently, so something like this could only excite him.

When the man collapsed, bloodied and unconscious, the gladiator managed to overpower the other man with his sword and quick footwork. Unfortunately, this left them both without swords. The man was more physically fit and appeared to be more determined than the gladiator. He advanced towards him and grabbed him by the belt and then by the waist and threw him backwards with some force to the ground, which resulted in one of the tables full of food being knocked over. You felt yourself becoming increasingly tense as the food and drinks were scattered around, and you saw the general moving in front of you. Guests were murmuring and applauding, but they continued to watch with interest.

The gladiator was covered in blood, but he was smiling. He quickly wiped the blood off his face with the back of his hand and waited for the man to make a move. When the man made a sudden advance, shouting, the gladiator responded by moving swiftly to strike at his leg. When the man faltered, the gladiator took the opportunity to strike him several times in the face with his chin, attempting to knock him to the ground. However, the man remained standing. At that moment, the gladiator took the sword from the ground and, in a swift and decisive move, drove it through the man's stomach. You were taken aback as blood spattered everywhere from the man's abdomen. Some of the people in the hall expressed their shock and dismay, while others were visibly excited.  Geta and Caracalla expressed their admiration for his performance, and their slaves joined in the applause. The gladiator respectfully placed his sword on the ground and bowed his head in deference to them. The air was filled with a distinctive, pungent odor of blood. You felt a queasy sensation in your stomach, not due to the smell of blood, but because the blood was still flowing from the cut in the abdomen of the man lying lifeless on the ground. While the majority of the people present were expressing their approval with cheers and whistles, you and the general were the only ones who did not join in. 

Geta stood up and gave a little clap. "That's fantastic!" "I love it!"

"I'm really looking forward to the new games," Caracalla said.

"Whenever you wish, Your Majesty," said Macrinus with a smile.

"Tomorrow!" Geta piped in excitedly.

"Your Majesty, shouldn't we wait until the festival is over?" Julia came over to him.

"No, it'd be too long. How about the last day of the Saturnalia?" "It would be a great way to end the festival," Caracalla said with a grin.

"My brother always has great ideas," he said, grinning at him.

You turned your head to look away as the guards pulled the bodies of the men out of the ground. Macrinus and Gaius went over to the gladiator and started talking to him about something. The general had noticed your nervousness.

"My lady, would you like to go for a walk?"

“Your face has gone white, sister.” Geta was looking at you with a grin. Caracalla laughed, “As a Medicus, shouldn't you be used to see blood?”

You stood up. “I need to get some air,” you said and looked at the general. “General Acacius, accompany me, please.”

He nodded and bowed to the emperors before following you.

There was still blood on the ground outside, so you decided to walk the other way. Soon the General came up to you.

“Are you alright?” there was concern in his voice.

“Yes,” you lied. “I'm not used to this and I don't think I want to get used to it.”

"Perhaps you would like to hold my hand?" he enquired, holding out his big hand towards you.

His eyes were warm, looking at them, you felt a sense of relief from the tension you had been feeling.

The only other people in the courtyard were the slaves, who were enjoying the day. The sounds of musical instruments soon filled the main courtyard, creating a festive atmosphere. When you held Acacius' hand, you felt your skin warm, touching his skin always gives you a reassuring warmth. "So you mentioned to my brothers that you wished to marry me," you said as you walked through the garden in the east courtyard. 

"That is correct," he said with a smile. “But, I would like to hear your answer before they say anything."

As you strolled past the garden fountain, the soothing sound of the flowing water was a welcome respite from the slightly more vibrant melody playing in the courtyard.

You moved to stand in front of Acacius, holding both hands and looking into his eyes.

"I would be honored to be your wife, General."

The brown of his eyes shone brightly, and as he took a step towards you, you involuntarily stepped back, for some reason his devastating gaze had that effect on you. He couldn't help but seem to like it, he raised his hands and cupped your face in his palms. Your cheeks blessed by his touch. 

"I should be the happiest man on this auspicious day," he said softly, brushing his lips against yours. Then he kissed you gently. 

Your lips were pleased to meet his lips again, and a heat spread through your body under his lips. Marcus lowered his arms and took hold of you around the waist, pulling you closer to him. You brought your arms up and wrapped them around his neck, and the kiss became more passionate. You both yearned for each other's bodies, whispering your desire through your lips. Marcus forced to stop himself when his hand reached your shoulder, his lips stilling under yours and turning into a smile, his moustache tickling your upper lip. Breathless, opened your eyes to met his eyes, his hands still on your waist, yours still on his thick neck.

"Perhaps we should save the rest for our wedding night, my lady." He said with a hint of mischief in his voice. He was gently running his fingers through your hair with one hand. "Patience is my best friend yet my worst enemy." He kissed a strand of your hair in the palm of his hand. You slid your hands to his broad shoulders.

"My enemy for sure," you said, frowning. He laughed merrily, caressed your nose with his nose, and kissed your forehead. "You always manage to cheer me up, my lady." The music from the main courtyard was getting louder. Marcus took a step back and held out his arm.

"Maybe we should head back to the banquet?"

You gave a slight nod and took his arm. The music evoked memories of your time in Egypt.

Vicius, your uncle, was mindful of the fact that festival days were not the ideal time for you to be out and about, but he was ultimately swayed by your persistent requests. Even if you were unable to fully observe the other girls dancing through your large black cloak, you still enjoyed being there. As you observed the girls dancing in the main courtyard, a young slave approached you at a brisk pace.

"General Acacius, the Emperors want to see you."

Marcus nodded and turned to you. "I'll see what they want. Would you like to come?”

Shaking your head. ”I'm not quite ready to go in there yet.”

"As you please, my lady.” He agreed.

You watched him as he took his leave of you, releasing your hand and entering the banquet hall. You were curious as to whether this was a decision about marriage, but you felt it would be best to wait until Macrinus and his gladiator had left. 

As you made your way towards the slave girls, who were dancing with evident joy, you came to realise how happy they were. Today was a day of freedom for them, as they were able to enjoy the same food and drinks. They were not expected to do much work today. Geta's slave, the one who dressed you, approached and respectfully inquired, "Lady Aurelia, would you like to join us?"

"Dancing? I've never danced before."

"It's really quite simple. Just allow yourself to become absorbed in the rhythm of the music.”

You noticed she was taking her time deciding whether to take your hand, so you smiled and grasped it. "Then go ahead and teach me."

She giggled, pulling you towards the others.

When you approached them the slaves stopped dancing and looked at you, a little unsure and curious.

"Why did you stop?" "Go on, I want to dance," you said with a encouraging smile.

They looked at each other, smiled back, and started dancing again. Another girl took your other hand, and you all formed a circle. Then they stood facing each other and guided you as you passed through each other. The girl who was Geta's slave was right—it was easy to dance when you let yourself go to the rhythm of the music. It felt great to experience something you'd wanted for so long but hadn't had the chance.  

"You're doing great, my lady." The girl replied with a smile.

"It's so much fun," you said with a smile.

When you switched places with the girl, dancing again, you suddenly noticed that people were gathering around you. 

"It looks like our sister is enjoying herself," Geta said, coming up behind you. You stopped and looked at him with embarrassment. Gaius and the others were standing next to him, smiling and observing you. But you found yourself glancing at the general standing behind them. He was smiling, but it seemed like he was lost in thought. The joy he had when he was with you was gone. Something bad is definitely going on, you thought.

"Our ideas of fun and yours are quite different," Caracalla muttered.

What was the fun in watching people cutting each other?

"Yes, I think it is," you replied.

"Then I'm afraid you're not going to like what I'm about to say," Geta said, coming up to you. 

Your eyebrows arched, seeking clarification on his meaning.

"As a family, we have been pondering the matter of two marriage proposals and have reached a decision." He gazed at Caracalla.

Caracalla laughed, which was a pretty clear sign that whatever he had to say wasn't going to be something you would like. 

"Two candidates, two rivals, one fight and the winner gets the girl. How does that sound?”

"It's a real battle.” Geta grinned.

You swallowed hard, your ears were betraying you. You couldn't make sense of what you were hearing.

“What is the meaning of this?"

Geta placed his hand gently on your shoulder. "Of course, our cousin Gaius is not a warrior. He is, after all, a politician, so it seems that Macrinus' gladiator will stand for him. General Acacius is a formidable opponent, as you may know.”

You felt your whole body go numb in shock. 

"That man's rage is more than enough to rival the General," Caracalla snapped.

"We'll see." Geta replied.

"There's got to be another way," you said, your voice trembling a little.

"The decision has been made. What are you worried about?" I'm sure it'll be a great game.

"Please, brother," you said, looking at Geta with pleading eyes, but he seemed determined. He made you walk a little away from them, with Caracalla accompanying you.

“Come now, sister, don't you trust the General's great fighting skills?”

The general's expression was solemn when you looked up at him from afar.

"If you choose Gaius, you might find yourself widowed pretty quickly. I'll take him out before he gets to Leptis Magna," Caracalla whispered, cruel smile appeared on his face.

Geta snickered. “Of course she won't choose that cunt,” he said, looking at you.

"If you are certain of my choice, why do you play this game? Does my decision not matter at all?"

Before Geta could reply, Caracalla spoke up. "You have accepted us as your family. Decisions like this are made between family. You should show some respect to us.”

"Besides, they should be worthy of you. You're not just any person. You're a Roman princess. Let them fight for you." Geta chuckled.

This made you even angrier. You wanted to slap them both. Everything was a game to them. But you hated that you had to risk losing Marcus because of their childish but dangerous games. You felt your chest hurt.

The festival was over for you, there was no more joy, no more fun. For the rest of the night all the laughter and music did nothing but torture you. Marcus was also silent and his face was expressionless as he looked at you from a distance.

The city was enjoying a well-deserved rest on the first night of the festival. It seemed that everyone and everything had decided to sleep, except you. Your mind was preoccupied with a particular thought. Marcus. The thought of losing him for such a silly pastime felt so wrong.  From your position on the bed, you gazed upwards at the moonlight that was gently filtering through the long window of the spacious room. The gold-embroidered part of the curtain caught your eye when it came into contact with the reflected light, as it shone gently in the moonlight. You decided to get out of bed, as you felt you couldn't sleep anyway. You thought it might be a good idea to get some fresh air. You exited the room and proceeded towards the balcony within. The view from the balcony at night was quite amazing. The Circus Maximus, the hippodrome where horse races were held during the day, appeared to be resting peacefully. The Tiber River, which flows into the sea between Palatine Hill and Aventine Hill, appeared to shine brightly in the night darkness, as though bathed in moonlight. Just beyond the river was a dirt road, the very same road you had traveled many times in a carriage towards the General's villa. 

You prayed to Jupiter, hoping that he might consider allowing you to live there as his wife when he won this fight and married you. Then your gaze shifted to the silhouette of the Colosseum, the imposing structure that had previously inspired a certain ambivalence in you. Now, it seemed to stand before you as an adversary. All the battles and games that were fought in it were not enough to take the warriors who died in all the battles and games. It also seemed to want to take away the most valuable person in your life.

You were startled as you heard footsteps approaching behind you.

"I wonder what could have disturbed our princess's sleep?”

Turning your head, you noticed Julia standing beside you, clad only in her long tunic, a style of dress you were not previously accustomed to seeing her in.

Without making eye contact, she approached and placed her arms on the balustrade. You felt a certain degree of nervousness each time you saw her, and the fact that you were alone with her at this late hour only served to heighten your unease. Her long black hair was waving with the light wind of the night. She was a beautiful woman, though her eyes and lips showed a few wrinkles. Cruel beauty.

"You must be thinking about him," she murmured before you could answer.

It was pretty clear to her, even without you telling her. She was a smart woman, so you were sure she realized it the first time she saw you and the General.

"Are they taking revenge on him?" you asked.

“Because he hid you in his villa? Perhaps, but for my sons, a game is a game. Now he's part of it. Things would have turned out differently had you chosen Gaius. But the General decided his own fate from the moment he asked their permission to marry you.”

You didn't answer, despite all the feelings growing within you. 

"Tiberis (Tiber River),' she murmured. You don't know how happy I was when I found out you had drowned in that river. All my worries were gone."

You remained unresponsive, a shiver ran down your spine, but it was not from the sudden wind.

“But one day you appeared, with your golden hair, the same cheeks that my husband couldn't get enough of kissing, and those innocent hazel eyes, just like the way you looked at me when you were a child, like a stupid, poor kitten. I don't know how I didn't notice the first time I saw you, I must have been so sure you were dead. I must be getting old, I suppose,” she said with a laugh. 

It was as if she was having a friendly chat, which made you more nervous. As your eyes roamed the dark silhouette of the Colosseum, you realised that your real enemy was right next to you.

“Are you sure you won't regret rejecting Gaius and not going to Leptis Magna with him?” She looked at you with a hint of mockery in her eyes, but her voice was almost pleading. 'If you're smart, that's what you should do.’

You closed your eyes tightly, took a deep breath and suppressed all the curses that rushed to your tongue. ‘You wish the General to lose? I thought you trusted him?’

‘There are many soldiers in the Legates with his potential, he's not irreplaceable.’

She approached you as you were trying to control your anger. "You are the one who made him a target. You are responsible for what has happened to him and what will happen to him. Remember that, Aurelia." You could hear the hint of a threat in her voice as she said your name.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as she walked back the way she came. You were already blaming yourself. Hearing the same words from her mouth, as if from your own conscience, increased your pain even more.

Marcus... You didn't even want to consider what you'd do if something happened to him. You thought about your uncle and how he handled it when his wife passed away. He was really dedicated to his work. He felt that his only purpose in life was to try to save more people. But you weren't like him. You were sure your body couldn't handle that kind of pain. You didn't feel as strong as he did. You shook your head and tried to push these thoughts out of your mind. 

You needed to be strong for him. But how could you possibly do that? How were you going to watch him out there fighting for his life when the very thought of it was enough to make your heart ache?  You'd never seen him fight before, but you'd heard so much about him that you had some hope. Still, your worries held your hopes captive and not releasing them. You let your thoughts torture you for a while longer, accompanied by the sound of crickets echoing in the silence of the night, and finally you walked to your room to try to sleep.

Temple of Mars…

The day of the fight.

The temple was relatively quiet when you arrived with Decima in the early hours of the morning. You had come here to sacrifice five pigs to Mars, the god of war. You bowed down in front of the great statue of Mars, which stood in all its majesty in the corner between the protruding tall columns inside, and joined your hands in prayer.

"My Lord, Mars, I beg you to bestow upon me the life of your son Marcus, the man I love, and grant him a victorious outcome today. Juno, the goddess of marriage, I implore you to remove all obstacles that stand in the way of me marrying the man I love. Venus, the goddess of love, I ask for your strength to fight for my love and to guide me to make it stronger. Fortuna, I ask that your fortune favour us today. Jupiter, the god of gods, I beseech you, my lord, to sharpen his sword, to give strength and power to his hands and arms, and to grant him victory. And bring him back to me safe and sound.”

You opened your eyes and saw your tears dripping on your hands, which you'd clasped together on your chest. Decima touched your shoulder and wiped your tears with her thumb.

'The gods will help him, don't you worry anymore.'

You nodded, feeling certain your prayer would be answered, now all that remained was to wait, and time was your worst enemy.

The last person you wanted to see was coming up the steps of the temple. Gaius noticed you and approached you, his smug smile infuriating you.

'My lady, I believe you've come to pray.'

'That's right, that's why I'm here, but I wonder if I might ask why you are here? I thought you weren't going to fight for yourself?" you asked sarcastically.

"I'm the one who has the advantage with the power of thought. Physical strength is of no consequence against it."

"Then perhaps you've come to the wrong temple. You should go to the temple of Mercury."

"My lady, I am in the right place because I have come here to ask Mars to grant General Acacius absolute defeat.”

You clenched your hands into fists, your whole body filled with rage.

‘Once he's out of the way, there'll be no more obstacles between us. It'll be easy to get rid of Caracalla and Geta. Their names will be forgotten. Think of the power you and I will have if we marry.’

After a long period of frustration, you finally lost your temper and slapped him in anger. Gaius wasn't upset. In fact, he seemed amused as he touched the spot where you had slapped him. The imperial guard who had been protecting you interposed himself between the two of you. 

‘I'll never marry you, sir, don't even dream of it.’

‘It was your father's wish, I was with him when he wrote the letter-’ This time his eyes were sharp as he looked at you.

‘I'm not my father!’ The people praying on the steps of the temple turned to you when they realised your loud voice.

‘And he's not here, I'm Aurelia, and I decide my own life. Don't you ever threaten me again. Or my brothers. Especially the man I love.’

The imperial guard stepped forward nervously noticing people approaching you.

‘Princess Aurelia!’ 

You turned your head when someone called out your name. They quickly gathered around you, looking at you with sincerity and admiration. Gaius seemed uncomfortable with them.

One woman approached you and said, "My lady, we've heard that the General Acacius will fight for you, so we pray for his safety and survival.”

They had come here with the same intention as you, which made you very happy.

'The General has saved this city many times, we're grateful to him,' someone said.

'We're still breathing thanks to him!' another shouted. You looked at Gaius with a smile, a smile he knew the meaning of ‘Suck it’.

‘I think you’re done here, Sir Gaius.’

The crowd regarded him with a certain degree of displeasure, and some of them advanced towards him. Gaius retreated, nearly losing his footing on the stairs in the process. As he made his way out of the area, the crowd turned their attention to you. 

“Thanks to your prayers, General Acacius will hopefully achieve a victory today at the Colosseum.”

The crowd responded with joyous shouts. They were now shouting his name. As you smiled at them and descended the stairs, you noticed a familiar face ahead. Octavius was standing by his horse and, upon recognising you, approached you with haste.

‘My lady, you summoned me. 

You asked for him before you came to the temple because you wanted to speak to him about something.

'Yes, thank you for coming by.'

'Of course, my lady,' he bowed his head respectfully.

You gave him a smile. 'It seems you were right all along.'

He looked at you, surprised. 'I beg your pardon, my lady?'

“You always called me a lady, and you were right. I was. You were always kind to me, Octavius. Even when you knew I was a slave, you were always respectful, and I'm grateful to you for that.”

“The pleasure's mine, my lady. But may I ask why you wanted to see me?’

'As a good friend of the general, I wanted to ask you to take me to him before the fight.’

Octavius’ expression changed. 'My lady, with all due respect, this is no place for women.’

You looked at him with absolute determination. 'Otherwise I wouldn't have asked you to accompany me, would I?'

The Colosseum…

Hours before the battle…

The Colosseum had lots of rooms and underground passages. This was where animals and gladiators were kept, waiting to meet their fate in the arena above. It wasn't a straightforward place to get into, especially not for a woman.

Octavius was pretty nervous about letting you into this underground tunnel. If you'd asked the royal guards to do it, it'd probably have got back to Geta or Caracalla, who'd have wanted to stop or prevent you. But you had to see him before he steps into the arena.

However, your plan was about to be thwarted. The guards at the entrance to the large iron gate were quite big and stopped you. 

'There's no room for women here, so you'd better go back.' 

Even if you wore a cloak, your clothes and hair showed your physical features. So you decided to remove it.

"I'm Princess Aurelia. Let me through, please. I'd like to speak with General Acacius."

The guards looked at each other, unsure of what to do. Did they think you were lying?

'Why would a princess come with only one soldier?' one of the guards asked.

'I'm the general's second-in-command, Octavius. Let us through, now.' Octavius ordered.

'My lady!''

You heard a familiar voice and looked in that direction. It was Macrinus.

His voice came from inside, and soon he appeared at the door.

'How dare you keep the Princess waiting at the gate? Let her through, now!'

The men immediately bowed their heads, apologised and opened the gate.

'My lady, I think you're here to see the General?' His smile made you feel uneasy, as it always did.

Octavius picked up a torch and followed you at a safe distance, each sound echoing off the narrow walls as he travelled through the stone tunnels. 

"I understand your wish to see him for the last time.”

You stopped suddenly, your footsteps echoed through the cave-like walls.

"Sir Macrinus, if I may continue with Sir Octavius for the rest of the way."

Macrinus smiled and said, 'As you wish, my lady. I'm done here anyway. I'll see you upstairs in the stands.' He walked towards the door. You continued on your way, not letting his confident demeanour unnerve you.

'Oh, by the way, don't be scared when you see the tiger ahead, he can smell fear,' he said before walking out the door.

You couldn't believe your ears. Did he mean it metaphorically? You looked at Octavius, who didn't look surprised.

‘It's in a cage, don't worry,’ he explained.

‘Tiger, a real tiger?’ You raised your eyebrow.

‘Yes. There are many animals here, stay close to me, my lady.’

A little later, you came to a roundabout where another iron gate was waiting for you. This time, you could hear lots of voices coming from the corridors. You could hear lots of men, swords being sharpen, doors opening and closing, and a roar. When you saw the corridor where the animals were kept, you had a bit of a shock. The tiger was there, a big one, much bigger than you'd imagined when you'd heard its name. And it was just as scary. You stood there, frozen in fear, locked in its green eyes, as if it was trying to find where the fear was hiding inside you. It was an amazingly beautiful and an extremely dangerous predator. A moment later, it let out a roar as if it had found the fear. Octavius grabbed you by the shoulders as you jumped back, trembling with fear.

'Are you alright, my lady?' Let's head back if you're not feeling well.

You couldn't help but laugh hysterically. 'It's beautiful.’ you swallowed hard.

Octavius confused.

You tried to pull yourself together quickly and concentrate on the reason you had come here, but the tiger was so beautiful that you couldn't take your eyes off him. Before long, one of the guards prodded the tiger's hind leg with a spear. The animal let out a roar in pain but then collapsed and rested its huge head on its front legs.

The guard bowed to you and said, 'It's a dangerous animal, my lady. You shouldn't get too close.'

You nodded at him, but it was hard to believe that such a beautiful and dangerous animal could be so close. You could stare at it for hours.

'My lady, this way,' Octavius said, pointing  the other corridor. There were gladiators and other warriors in this corridor. All waiting to fight resting in dungeons, conditions were unfavourable. As you passed through them, you bowed your head, feeling their curious eyes on you. 

You felt regret taking off your cloak, because you were wearing a elegant dress that left your arms and neck exposed, and revealing that you belonged to the imperial family. You had Geta to thank for that, after all, lately he loved to interfere with your attire. 

“A princess?”

“Look at this beauty.”

“I would gladly die for you, my beautiful lady.”

A few masculine whistles and laughs, murmurs, you could feel your cheeks turning red, your mouth got dry. Hearing a few dirty comments, Octavius kicked the iron bars of the cell where they were being held.

“Shut the hell up!”

You fellt relief to move from this corridor to another, quieter one, where you saw a familiar face. It was Cato, the General's squire.

"My lady, sir." He greeted you. 

Instead of iron bars, there was an iron door and an armoury. It was filled with swords, axes, bows and arrows, shields and many other implements of war. 

"Is the General inside?" Octavius asked.

"Yes, I just helped him put on his armour," he said and knocked on the door.

You were nervous and excited, and when the door opened, Octavius nodded then looked at you.

You walked through the door with quick steps, met his eyes. The eyes you had come all this way for.

His eyes showed surprise and then anger.

“I'll leave you two alone.” Octavius closed the door and left to avoid her harsh gaze.

“What are you doing here,” he came toward you, so attractive even in his anger.

“I needed to see you, before...” you swallowed, unable to finish the sentence.

“It's not appropriate for you to be here, how could you do that?”

The general seemed to be wearing his leather armbands. 

“Let me,” you murmured and approached him. 

He held out his arm for you and waited, all the while keeping his eyes on you.

Once you finished, put your hands on his broad shoulders. Under your hands you felt the material of the leather armor he had just put on. It was the same armor he wore when you first met, with gold detailing on the edges and a medusa on his chest. His expression softened at your touch. 

"You always act without thinking," he said with a hint of disapproval.

"I've heard that before," you replied with a smile.

He placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him, his eyes tracing the outline of your lips. You could feel his gaze on them.

"You are my only weakness, your presence is the only thing that distracts me."

"Perhaps it would be best if I waited here for you? I don't want to watch anyway.”

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I'd like you to sit there and watch me." He cupped your face between his hands, and you could feel your heart beating faster. "Because, my beautiful princess,, it's only you who gives me strength."

Marcus pressed his lips to yours and kissed you gently.

"I prayed in the temple for you to win," you whispered. "Marcus, you have to win. I can't bear to see anything happen to you."

"I will win, my lady. For you, for us." He kissed your forehead and embraced you.

You prayed the gods for the last time as you resting your head on his chest, your body in his arms. Suddenly the sound of drums startled you. Turned your head in the direction of the sound, accompanied by the sound of the crowd and whistles. Marcus pressed his lips to the top of your head and pulled himself back. 

“It's time, you'd better go now.”

You nodded. “I love you, Marcus.” your voice was shaking.

One of his heart-melting smiles appeared on his face.

“I love you more, my beautiful Aurelia.”

Ima Cavea… (tribune that reserved for the Emperor and senates)

“Sister, where were you? You were almost late.” Geta scolded you. You were pleased that Julia was sitting next to Caracalla, while you sat in one of the gold-embroidered seats belonging to the royal family next to Geta. The farther away from her the better it was for you. However, Gaius was sitting right next to you and smiling at you in a way that made you feel uneasy. You turned your head away from him and looked at Geta.

“What happened to your face?”

He rolled his eyes. “War makeup, if you hadn't gone to the temple earlier I would have given you this makeup too, tough luck sister.” he said pursing his lips.

“Good thing I preferred to go to the temple then,” you muttered. 

He laughed. Caracalla whispered something in his ear. Geta leaned toward you with a mischievous expression. “Would you like to give the opening speech?”

You gave him a stink-eye. He grinned with all his teeth at your expression. 

“Okay, I'll do it.”

He stood up and took a step forward, raising his arms in salute as the announcer announced his name to the crowd.

“People of Rome! We are gathered today for an epic closing to the last day of the festival. The day's champions of the auspicious ceremony, incredibly talented gladiators, will fight and stand for our beloved cousin Gaius Septimius Severus Aper!”

“He forgot to mention ‘consul ordinarius’ title of mine.” Gaius said, offended.

“No one cares,” you snapped.

Caracalla laughed hard, Geta joined him in, both looking at you like ‘good one’. You ignored them, not in the mood for jokes.

With the sound of drums and trumpets, the iron gates opened with roar and four gladiators entered the arena. You weren't an expert in fighting and you didn't have a lot of experience as a spectator, but you had a pretty good idea of what to expect. But why were there four gladiators? Caracalla stood up and came to Geta, applauding with excitement and joy. The gladiators stood in position in front of your tribune with their shields and spears and gave the salute.

“Ave Imperatores, morituri te salutant!” Hail Emperors, those who are about to die salute you!”

“In fact, you should salute both us and our sister today,” he beckoned you to him. You opened your eyes wide, not expecting surely. Julia let out a hissing sound, and the senators murmured behind you. As you stood up, the crowd started to cheer louder. You took Geta's hand, tentatively at first.

“Princess Aurelia!” Crowded shouted.

You whispered to Geta as the crowd chanted your name.

“Wasn't there supposed to be a one-on-one fight?”

“That would be boring, wouldn't it, my dear?”

"Clearly you haven't had the opportunity to observe the General in combat before, Caracalla said, leaning towards you behind Geta. “Hurry brother, call him to show up, lets get them started at once,” he whined to him, clapping his hands.

Geta nodded, “And the man who will fight against them is known and respected by all of you, The Glorius General Marcus Acacius, commander of the southern armies, General of the Six Legions and protector of Rooome!”

Geta's loud cry was pretty deafening.

The soldiers who opened the other door for their General greeted him and wished him good fortune. The crowd roared as Marcus, sword in hand shining under the sunlight, the sands of the arena turning to dust beneath his feet as he stepped in front of the gladiators. You experienced a range of emotions simultaneously, including excitement, tension, fear unease. 

Marcus turned towards you, put his sword on his shoulder, nodded. 

“Ave Imperatores, ave Filia Regis, morituri te salutant!” Hail Emperors, hail Princess, who are about to die salute you!”

Even though the word ‘about to die’ hurts, you smiled at him, and he bowed his head in response. 

“Begiiiin!” Geta shouted.

“Gods bear witneeeeess!” Caracalla joined him.

The crowd went wild with excitement, and the beat of the drums grew louder. Since the gladiators were discussing strategy and walking away from him Marcus turned to face the other way, looks very calm. It didn't seem fair that they had spears, swords at their waists and shields in their hands, but Marcus had only a sword. Had he specifically chosen it himself? It didn't make sense, and you were almost angry with Marcus for it. But you were about to be wrong. 

As one of the gladiators ran towards Marcus, he took a defensive stance, kicked the sand off the ground with the tip of his toe and darted towards him. In a swift and decisive move, he dodged his attack by spinning as if he was dancing and struck him hard with his sword from behind. Marcus quickly picked up the shield that had fallen from his hand and turned to the others, your eyes fixed on the sand where blood from the cut spread across the floor of the arena. You stared with your jaw dropped.

Geta and Caracalla looked at each other with laughter. They cursed and commented, their eyes fixed on the action. You observed Gaius, seated next to you, appearing somewhat disgruntled, which prompted a smile to emerge on your face. Yet you tensed again as the three remaining gladiators circling around Marcus. He glanced at each of them, ready for any attack. One of them roared and charged at him, pointing the tip of his spear at him, the long spear jabbed, but Marcus grabbed the tip of his shield, shoved it aside and charged at the gladiator, his great sword flashing. The gladiator swung his spear back, then thrust again. The metal screamed as the tip of the spear slipped from Marcus' shield, cutting the surface and leaving a long, shiny scratch. Another gladiator lunged with his spear, but Marcus turned quickly, allowing it to pierce the shield, but the gladiator could not get it back out and Marcus took advantage of it and swung his sword at him, cutting his exposed leg off. The man let out a cry of pain as blood began to flow from his wound, spreading across the sandy ground. Marcus made one last move and rushed after the other, cutting his neck and the gladiator's lifeless body sprawled on the sandy ground. Other gladiator grunted furiously. He made a ponderous charge to hack at the Marcus's head. He avoided him easily. The crowd roared, whistling and Geta gave a hysterical laugh and clapped. You were uncertain as to how much more nervous you could become. You felt your heart beating in your throat. The two remaining gladiators exchanged glances and signalled to one another. Marcus observed them with his keen gaze, considering the most strategic approach to the upcoming confrontation, taking the movement of their feet into account. One of them made a quick lunge for his stomach, but Marcus was thrown back and it was ineffective. Marcus cut him, but not where he wanted, he missed.

Then, dodging at the last moment as the gladiator lunged for his right breast, he lunged for the tip of the spear. Marcus was close enough to strike suddenly, his sword gleaming in a blur of steel. The crowd screamed as well. As the tip of the spear was useless, the Gladiator threw it away and drew his sword, but Marcus was much faster, grasping quickly the spear that the other gladiator he had just cut down had left on the ground and thrusting it deep into his groin. The gladiator groaned in pain and staggered backwards, struggling to stand and finally collapsing to his knees. The last remaining gladiator, the banquet-show gladiator, Macrinus' and Geta's favourite, lunged angrily at Marcus. Geta stood up excitedly, Caracalla leaned forward to see better, and you put your hands together and began to pray. He was the gladiator you feared the most. 

Metal met metal with an ear-splitting clang, sending the Marcus reeling. Gladiator followed, bellowing. They didn't use words anymore, just animalistic roaring.The gladiator was the first to move, throwing his spear at Marcus as he ran, missing. This time he drew his sword and lunged at him with a roar, throwing his shield at him as well, Marcus paused in the blink of an eye as the pain of the struck shield caused his elbow. But the sword was making several thrusts at him, and Marcus's retreat turned into a flight backwards, only inches in front of the great sword that cut through his chest, arms and wrist. You jumped to your feet, Marcus' cuts weren't very deep, but they were enough to make you cried out. 

Marcus heard you, but he had to pretend he didn't. He was determined to concentrate and get it over with. He ignored the pain of his cuts and looked at the gladiator, who was smiling triumphantly at him. 

Rejoice now while you can, Marcus thought.

He memorised the gladiator's footwork and swiftly planned his attack. The gladiator made the first move, his shiny sword grazing the surface of Marcus' shield with a deafening sound. Marcus seized the opportunity and brought his sword down on the gladiator's head. But it was a ruse. As the gladiator raised his sword to retaliate, Marcus slashed his muscular thigh and kicked him to the ground. The gladiator was dazed by the fall, and Marcus stepped on his hand with his foot, taking the sword from him and hurling it across the arena.The crowd cheered, and Geta gave a standing ovation and shouted with joy.

'What a battle!'

'It's over too soon,' Caracalla grumbled. You were starting to relax a little, but the blood dripping from Marcus's shoulder wasn't helping. When he glanced back at you, you smiled and hoped he saw it.

The crowd suddenly started shouting in unison. 

‘KIll! KIll! KIll!’

Marcus looked at Geta. With his arm outstretched, everyone eagerly awaits his decision. But you could already see it in his honey-coloured eyes. Geta turned his thumb down.

The crowd went wild again, cheering and screaming. Marcus looked down at the gladiator, who was barely breathing, lying on the ground. He raised his sword and the man closed his eyes. Marcus may have fought like a beast, but he was no bloodthirsty villain. He brought the sword down swiftly and it stabbed through the sand right next to the gladiator's head. The crowd fell silent. Murmurs replaced the shouts. Geta frowned. Caracalla leaned down from the balustrade in frustration. 

‘What the hell is he doing?’

‘Kill him!’ Geta shouted. 

You were so moved by Marcus's behavior that your eyes filled with tears. 

Soon the crowd was shouting the chant once used for the great General Maximus. 

‘Marcus the merciful!’

Marcus smiled at them and made a gesture of respect, honouring his former commander.

'That's just like him,' Geta commented.

Caracalla made a face. You were happy and proud of him, you couldn't be more in love with him.

Marcus walked towards to you while the crowd chanting his name and his new nickname. 

'My Emperors, I fought for you and I won, and I believe I have a right to claim what is rightfully mine.' His eyes shifted to you. It was hard not to throw yourself from where you stood into his strong arms.

Geta laughed, applauding him.

"Naturally, our champion will receive what he deserves." He gazed at you and said, "Let us begin preparations for the wedding of General Acacius and our sister Princess Aurelia at once."

You felt a slight blush come over your cheeks as the crowd expressed their enthusiasm by chanting and cheering your names. Caracalla sat back in his throne and appeared to be somewhat disgruntled. Gaius had already departed. Then the iron gates of the arena opened, and the General was surrounded by his soldiers, who embraced him joyfully, including Octavius. Geta was observing you as you smiled at Marcus with joy, and he was surprised to realise that for the first time in his life he was experiencing a sense of happiness for someone else. 

@myownwholewildworld @orcasoul @pedroslut4eva @immyowndefender @lailathepedritofan @screechingchildfury @shinymusicpanda @somedayheaven @ivoryandflame @negrita2345 @music-lover09 @javiismyhsbnd @idontcareihavenoidea @jisungandpedrolover @mmkkzz @ro-nahime-things

if anyone wants me to tag them please comment :) thank you all <3

[buck-star]

Workouts | Bucky Barnes

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Firefighter!Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> You can’t get enough of Bucky’s glistening body after a workout.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 886

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> 18+, Minors DNI, smut, sir kink (mentioned once), oral (male!receiving), deep throating, burning house (mention), sweaty Bucky, fluff

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> I keep on going back to that gif of Sebastian as Hal Carter (the way his abs and chest glisten from his sweat is mouthwatering) So kinda like a fluffy and smutty 🤭🤭 firefighter/Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes + Gym sex/Car sex (after the gym) (PS: Feel free to ignore this ask 😌😌) @amathslutsguidetofandom

𝐀/𝐍 -> HOW CAN I IGNORE THAT ASK!!!! This let me feel things I didn’t know I could feel like that. And congratulations you just unlocked a new kind of Bucky I can’t resist anymore: Firefighter!Bucky/Lumberjack!Bucky both are so hot. Feel free to sent a request with one of them. They are just so 🫠🫠 And thank you for the request I hope you like it. Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> Fandom-Free Bingo: Frosty Edtion | G5 | Firefighter AU | @fandom-free-bingo

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Sweat is running down his cheeks, slowly trailing down his neck, and all over his high-defined abs. Your boyfriend is just doing his workout for the day. You're sitting on the bench next to his uniform. Your eyes are focused on him, and you just can't get enough of the way his muscles flex when he moves. He looks hot in a way he shouldn't, at least not while he is doing a workout.

How good must your boyfriend look when he is running into a burning building wearing his uniform, which defines his body so perfectly? Bucky would run into a building, and the flames of the fire would get bigger and bigger, but it didn't stop the firefighter from getting into the building. The sweat would run all over his forehead when he got into the room where the people were standing. Bucky would lift the big shelf, which just crashed down, and he would help them get out of the room before he let go of the shelf and turned back to get out of the building. But before he takes another step, he hears another sound - a meow from across the room. Bucky wouldn't think twice when he saw the little kitten sitting on an armchair, waiting for someone to get her out of the building.

'Hi, my precious little baby. Come here; let's get you out of here.'

He would make his way through the room and pick up the little kitten. Bucky wouldn't mind the rising heat in the room; he would mind the sweat running down his whole body. He would get the little fur ball and get out of the building. When he would take off his helmet, the sweat would have soaked his hair already, and he would slide his hand through it, shoving it out of his face.

"What's in your pretty mind, doll?" Bucky asks, looking up from where he is lying on the ground.

You smirk, your cheeks heating up, especially when you see his sweaty hair clinging to his face. His cheeks are red as well, and his abs are flexing when he does another push-up. Bucky's t-shirt's way already in their place somewhere on the ground. So you have the best view of his sweaty but tensing, high-defined abs.

"I-I'm hungry," you mumble with a soft smirk.

Bucky knows exactly what you mean and what kind of hunger you're feeling. The desire in your eyes tells him that, as does the way your lips are slightly parted while he does his workout.

"Love that, don't you?"

You definitely do, with the way his body is glistening and shining in the light of the sun, which shines into the gym.

"Let's give you your snack then," Bucky says, getting up from the ground.

He makes his way over to you, his hand sliding through his beautiful brown hair. He wipes it out of his face, and his steel-blue eyes darken softly when he sees the way you swallow harshly.

"What do you think about a thick, hard snack?" He asks and places his hand underneath your chin, tilting your head up so you have to look into his eyes. "Wanna have that salty snack?"

You nod, licking your lips, when Bucky leans closer to capture your lips with his. The kiss is short but passionate, and your eyes are filled with lust when he lets go of you. Your hands slide along his thighs while you push him slowly away and get on your knees in front of him. The bulge visible in his pants, your hand gliding over it, and you earn a groan from Bucky. Bucky smirks at you, his hand sliding into your hair and gripping it softly. You slide down his sweatpants with his boxers, and his hard cock springs free. Pre-cum is leaking from his tip, and you lick your lips, smirking when you look at his length.

"Like what you see, doll?"

"Always, Sir."

Bucky groans and pulls your head closer, tugging at your hair while the tip of his cock presses against your lips. You part your lips softly, your mouth watering for a while now, and now you have your favorite snack - Bucky. He pushes his dick inside your mouth; the warmth of it immediately welcomes him, and he throws his head back. Your fingers dig into the soft skin of his thighs. You take his cock completely into your mouth and down your throat. Bucky groans when you gag around him, swallowing his dick down your throat.

"Good girl, taking my dick like a good slut. Such a slut, aren't you?"

You nod, letting his dick slide out of your mouth, then you twirl your tongue around his tip. You love his taste - the salty taste of him. Bucky smirks at you; the way you look up to face him makes him go crazy. So innocent with his dick in your mouth.

"You look so fucking innocent, but sucking my dick little the good girl you're for me." Bucky mumbles and pushes his dick back down your throat.

He loves the warmth and tight feeling, even though he prefers your tight little pussy. Your tongue working along his shaft over his vein makes his groans get louder and more pre-cum dripping on your tongue.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬.

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @nicoline1998enilocin @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

How OP men would react after finding out you have an aggressive stalker || Katakuri and Rob Lucci

Katakuri watched you dive into a bush as his chief of staff, Rock, entered the courtyard. He stared at you and asked, "What are you doing?" Only for you to shush him and swat at him to leave you alone.

"Ah, there you are, Katakuri. I just dropped off the list of candidates for new crew members in your office." Rock declared, approaching his superior. "I say..." He added, sniffing the air with his mousy nose, "Do I smell tuberose? Was your assistant just here?"

Katakuri eyed the bush you were hiding in to see you giving him a pleading look. The Sweet Commander sighed, "Yes, they were, but they had to deliver some paperwork to Mama for me. So they won't be back until tomorrow." The large man didn't like lying, but if it was for you, he'd do it, even though he didn't understand why you were hiding from Rock.

Rock's expression turned dour at the news, and he replied, "I see, well then I must take my leave of you, sir, I have a mountain of paperwork to attend to." The Minister of Flour's Chief of Staff gave him a quick bow, and he hurried out of the garden. Once he was out of sight, Ktakuri said, "Why are you hiding from Rock?"

You stuck your head out of the bush and grumbled, "Because anytime he's near me, he tries to smell me. It's so creepy."

"Smells you? Katakuri echoed in confusion, "Does he know he makes you uncomfortable?"

"Do you think I haven't told him to stay away from me?" You snapped as you stumbled out of the bush, "he doesn't listen and thinks I'm just playing hard to get. I've even punched him, but he just enjoyed it."

Katakuri crouched down, pulled leaves out of your hair, and hummed, "I'll look into it."

It took him two days, and quite a lot of resources, but Katakuri had a full background on Rock. The sweet commander could only read a few pages before he had to put down the report. Rock was a despicable man, and Katakuri did not want this vile man around him, let alone allow him a seat of authority. He leaned back in his office chair and sighed, he now needed to find a replacement for Rock, yet another task on his ever-growing list of things to do.

The pensive atmosphere in the Minister of Flour's office was shredded by the racket of someone scuffling up the side of the building. Katakuri got up and looked out the window to see Rock clinging to the gutter pipe by what, he could only assume, was your bedroom window and peaking in. When Rock had one foot on the pipe and one foot securely on your window sill, Katakuri watched in horror as Rock reached one hand into his trousers while peeping into the room. The sweet commander wasted no time using his mochi powers to yank the pervert backward. Rock lost balance and fell three stories to the gravel floor of the courtyard.

Rob had just returned home from a mission, the sun was shining, and a crisp sea breeze made his hair and cloak flutter around him. He took a deep breath before he spotted you in the crowd. Rob huffed in amusement, you were always so insistent about greeting him the moment he stepped off the boat. Not that he minded, it just meant he could initiate his coming home ritual sooner. Rob scooped you into a tight embrace, taking a deep lungful of your scent, pleasantly noting that he didn't smell anyone else on you. As soon as he touched you, Rob felt eyes on him, some were just the people around the two of you, but one set in particular had his hackles up. These eyes felt like they were piercing him with malicious intent.

"Welcome home," you sighed into his shoulder, eagerly hugging him back.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, looking around for the owner of such a piercing stare. You looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest, and replied, "uh huh, where do you want to eat?"

"I was thinking Star Dancer," Lucci replied as he pulled away from you, "They have garden seating, and it's such a nice day, it'd be a waste to spend it inside."

You grinned at him and laughed, "You're only picking Star Dancer because they are okay with Hattori sitting with us out there."

Rob blushed and huffed, "That's not true, I know you love their food too. Plus, it's the only restaurant nice enough to take a stunning beauty, such as yourself." He kissed your knuckles and grinned at you. "So, can I take you out on a date to Star Dancer?"

You giggled, "Of course," and you allowed him to take your hand, and lead you to the restaurant. Rob tried to shake off the feeling of being watched, but it wasn't until you arrived at Star Dancer that the feeling dissipated.

When you and Rob finally got home, it was around midnight. The moment he stepped inside, Rob knew something was wrong. He could smell a stranger who had been inside. Lucci blocked you from entering and asked, "Has anyone been to the house recently? A workman, or something?" When you shook your head, he gritted his teeth and growled, "Go to the neighbor's house and ask them to call the police, I think there's been a break-in, I'm going to check it out in the meantime." He stood at the door of your home and waited until you and Hattori entered the neighbor's residence, before going in.

All the lights were off inside, but that wasn't a problem for Rob, thanks to his Zoan fruit, he could see quite well with just the pale blue moonlight flooding in from the windows. In agent mode, Rob took in his surroundings, the house was quiet and everything was still except a few of the sheer curtains fluttering in the breeze from the open window. Rob inspected said window, the lock was broken from the outside with a sharpened flathead screwdriver, that was discarded on the floor nearby. Rob sniffed the curtain, and a pungent smell filled his nose, he followed the scent trail to your bedroom, which had been ransacked. The contents of your dresser, closet, and laundry hamper had been strewn all over the room. Your bed was a mess and had a tangy sour smell emanating from it. Rob wrinkled his nose in disgust, who ever broke had made themselves far too comfortable in your home for his liking. He noted that in the heaps of clothing scattered around the room, Rob couldn't see a single undergarment.

Lucci's thoughts were disrupted by a soft clinking in the adjoined bathroom. The large man turned his attention to the door that stood ajar. His sharp ears heard someone distinctly mutter, "Come here, come to Papa, I'll wrap this cord around your pretty little neck before you even know what's happening."

Rob's skin rippled as he transformed into his Zoan form, anger causing his hackles to stand on end. He charged the door with such a force that it cracked in two. A scrawny man threw himself back with a shrill yell. The leopard man towered over him and growled, "Well, well, well, who do we have here?"

The man scuttled backward, and cried, "Don't hurt me!"

"I'd kill you here and now," Rob hissed, lifting a clawed hand that glimmered in the moonlight. "But that would make a large mess, and your blood would undoubtedly stain my tile floor."

"Your floor?... This is your house?" The man stammered.

Rob paused, wondering if this pathetic man had accidentally broken into the wrong house.

"I thought they live here alone?" The man added.

Lucci asked, "Do you mean the one whose photo hangs in the hall?" When the coward nodded, Rob sneered, "That's my partner, and you've fucked up big time."

"I've never seen you here before." The man countered, "If you really loved them, you'd never leave someone so special."

Rob grabbed the man by his collar and threw him into the bedroom. He grumbled, "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm a Cipher Pole agent. Now start cleaning while we wait for the police to show, everything better be back in the spot you found it by the time you're done." When Lucci flipped on the light, the intruder started to shriek at the sight of his Zoan form.

"Stop screaming!" Rob roared, smacking the man upside the head, causing the intruder to fall over. There on the floor, Lucci could see his favorite pair of your underwear, sticking out of this man's pants pocket. Rob could feel a vein throbbing in his temple as he yelled, "Empty your pockets!"

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

[andhumanslovedstories]

Do you know the Langston Hughes poem "Let America Be America Again"? I think you would enjoy reading it.

I know it's cool among leftists to hate America and wish it harm, and yes it's built on a LOT of harms, but your post resonated with me. It's the country we have, and it IS our duty to keep the freedoms we have and extend them to everyone.

god Langston Hughes is always hitting

Let America Be America Again

Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed— Let it be that great strong land of love Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath, But opportunity is real, and life is free, Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There's never been equality for me, Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.")

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark? And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart, I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars. I am the red man driven from the land, I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek— And finding only the same old stupid plan Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope, Tangled in that ancient endless chain Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land! Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need! Of work the men! Of take the pay! Of owning everything for one's own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil. I am the worker sold to the machine. I am the Negro, servant to you all. I am the people, humble, hungry, mean— Hungry yet today despite the dream. Beaten yet today—O, Pioneers! I am the man who never got ahead, The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream In the Old World while still a serf of kings, Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true, That even yet its mighty daring sings In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned That's made America the land it has become. O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas In search of what I meant to be my home— For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore, And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea, And torn from Black Africa's strand I came To build a "homeland of the free."

The free?

Who said the free? Not me? Surely not me? The millions on relief today? The millions shot down when we strike? The millions who have nothing for our pay? For all the dreams we've dreamed And all the songs we've sung And all the hopes we've held And all the flags we've hung, The millions who have nothing for our pay— Except the dream that's almost dead today.

O, let America be America again— The land that never has been yet— And yet must be—the land where every man is free. The land that's mine—the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME— Who made America, Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain, Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain, Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose— The steel of freedom does not stain. From those who live like leeches on the people's lives, We must take back our land again, America!

O, yes, I say it plain, America never was America to me, And yet I swear this oath— America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death, The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies, We, the people, must redeem The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers. The mountains and the endless plain— All, all the stretch of these great green states— And make America again!

[astrotruther]

.°Mars in the Sheets₊˚🔞

♈️ Aries Mars | 1st House

They want it fierce and unfiltered. They’ll catch your gaze with that determined, fiery look, then suddenly press you against a wall and kiss you with all they've got. They love to lead and go all in, which can feel almost primal. Spontaneous, hands-on energy—literally, can't keep their hands off you. Fast and intense—sex is a conquest.

2H – Physical touch is everything—slow but hungry. 3H – Dirty talk, teasing, mental stimulation—words fuel arousal. 4H – Emotionally-driven, protective, needs to feel safe first. 5H – Passionate and playful—sex is a game they intend to win. 6H – Focused on technique, enjoys pushing their limits. 7H – Dominant yet responsive—loves a partner who challenges them. 8H – All or nothing—sex must be transformative, almost destructive. 9H – Adventurous and open-minded—loves trying new experiences. 10H – Power is an aphrodisiac—status and control fuel desire. 11H – Unpredictable, experimental—loves breaking the rules. 12H – Hidden intensity—looks calm but secretly obsessive.

When They're Into You: They’ll make the first move, no hesitation. You’ll know they want you because they’ll tell you straight up—or just grab your hand and pull you in.

🎬 Scenario: A heated argument that turns into a passionate kiss. The sound of a door slamming before they turn back and press their lips to yours, breathless.

♉️ Taurus Mars | 2nd House

Their love language is all about sensation—long, lingering touches that make you feel adored. They’ll run their hands down your arms, lips grazing your neck, savoring every moment and every inch. Think low lights, silk sheets, and cozy, indulgent textures. They'll pull you close on the couch, gently pressing their forehead to yours before a lingering kiss that feels like home. Sex is about claiming and being claimed.

1H – Sensual, slow-burning, needs full-body connection. 3H – Slow seduction—whispers, teasing, anticipation. 4H – Needs emotional warmth—intimacy must feel like home. 5H – Loves deep, passionate pleasure—enjoys taking their time. 6H – Knows exactly what pleases their partner—patient and skilled. 7H – Prefers harmony—sex must feel beautiful and mutual. 8H – Dark, intoxicating, secret desires—obsessed with control. 9H – Natural stamina—wants to experience sex in different places. 10H – Status-driven—sex is power, dominance, and legacy. 11H – Experimental but selective—only opens up to a chosen few. 12H – Erotic but private—fantasies stay locked in their mind.

When They're Into You: They'll find subtle ways to touch you—a brush of the fingers, resting their hand on your thigh. Their patience is unmatched, and they'll savor every moment.

🎬 Scenario: Candlelight flickering, soft music in the background, hands trailing over silk sheets. A deep, unhurried kiss that leaves you dizzy.

♊️ Gemini Mars | 3rd House

They'll surprise you, coming up from behind and wrapping their arms around you, whispering something mischievous in your ear. They love the build-up: playful teasing, flirty comments, and clever words that drive you a little wild. Expect variety and constant switches—they’ll play with your hair, steal kisses, then lean back to see your reaction. Communication and spontaneity are their turn-ons, keeping things light and exciting. Dirty talk, sexting, teasing—it starts with the mind.

1H – Restless and playful—sex is a fast-moving exchange. 2H – Touch-starved but needs constant variety. 4H – A mix of emotional depth and fun—craves intimacy but avoids attachment. 5H – Flirty, playful, thrives on mental foreplay. 6H – Overthinks but perfects their technique—loves variety. 7H – Needs a smart, engaging partner—boredom is a turnoff. 8H – Talks their way into their partner’s deepest desires. 9H – Loves spontaneous, uninhibited sex—new places, new cultures. 10H – Sex as an accomplishment—loves a challenge. 11H – Kinky, open-minded—thrives on breaking norms. 12H – Secretly wild—hidden desires even they don’t understand.

When They're Into You: Expect nonstop teasing, stolen kisses when you least expect it, and flirtatious banter that keeps you guessing.

🎬 Scenario: Laughter between kisses, a game of tag that turns into being pinned against a wall, whispered secrets in the backseat of a car.

♋️ Cancer Mars | 4th House

Cancer Mars is all about tender, protective energy—they crave a safe, private space where they can let down their walls. They want to wrap you up, both physically and emotionally, and keep you close. They crave intimacy. They love skin-to-skin contact and meaningful kisses. Sex is a very private matter for them.

1H – Intense and protective—sex is deeply emotional. 2H – Needs security first—then, they become devoted. 3H – Soft-spoken seduction—melts through words. 5H – Passionate but private—only opens up in trust. 6H – Takes care of their partner’s needs—subtle but intense. 7H – Feeds off emotional connection—sex must mean something. 8H – Possessive, deeply bonding—once in, they never let go. 9H – Needs emotional adventure—craves deep conversations and intimacy. 10H – Power and protection turn them on—loves to be needed. 11H – Surprisingly wild but only in trusted circles. 12H – Deep, hidden cravings—needs to feel safe before opening up.

When They're Into You: They’ll make sure you feel safe and wanted. Late-night check-ins, forehead kisses, and a quiet but undeniable devotion.

🎬 Scenario: A late-night drive, soft rain pattering on the windows, fingers intertwined on the gear shift. A long hug that turns into an even longer kiss.

♌️ Leo Mars | 5th House

Leo Mars brings a lot of passion and a little flair—they want it to feel like a scene from a romantic movie. They’re not afraid to shower you with attention, and every touch is meant to make you feel like you’re their one and only. It’s romantic, playful, and a little larger-than-life. Flamboyant, confident, lives for romantic tension.

1H – Fiery, passionate, unforgettable—sex is a performance. 2H – Slow but dominant—needs admiration to feel turned on. 3H – Dirty talk, mind games—aroused by praise. 4H – Wants deep emotional warmth—intimacy must feel special. 6H – Loves to please—perfectionist about satisfaction. 7H – Seeks a power couple dynamic—sex is an event. 8H – Dark, obsessive, intense—demands full surrender. 9H – Adventurous—thrives on bold, risky encounters. 10H – Career-driven, but behind closed doors? Dominant. 11H – Unpredictable, rebellious—hates routine. 12H – Secret exhibitionist—wants to be worshipped in private.

When They're Into You: They’ll show you off, give you their full attention, and make every moment feel like a scene out of a movie.

🎬 Scenario: Dancing in the kitchen at midnight, a spontaneous dip-and-kiss moment.

♍️ Virgo Mars | 6th House

They’re the type to pull you close and hold you in their sleep. Virgo Mars loves the little things—they pay attention to what makes you feel good and lean into it. Think soft whispers, gentle touches, and a quiet intensity that feels endlessly comforting. They want to make sure every detail is just right, creating an atmosphere where you feel secure and comfortable. Subtle but intense lovers.

1H – Skilled and meticulous—they study their partner’s needs. 2H – Slow, sensual, deeply focused on pleasure. 3H – A perfectionist in seduction—words turn them on. 4H – Needs to feel safe—intimacy is soft but deep. 5H – Picky, but once in, they’re completely devoted. 7H – Love must feel right—they take their time choosing. 8H – Secretly kinky—obsessed with the details. 9H – Needs stimulation beyond just the body—mental attraction is key. 10H – Controlled but intense—always leaves a mark. 11H – Detached yet secretly obsessive—choosy about partners. 12H – Deepest desires stay hidden—locked behind layers.

When They're Into You: They remember the little things—your favorite drink, how you like to be held. Their devotion is in the details.

🎬 Scenario: The smell of fresh linen, fingers tracing invisible patterns on your back, quiet mornings with sleepy kisses.

♎️ Libra Mars | 7th House

They’re all about creating that perfect balance—your legs draped over theirs, your head on their shoulder, while they run their fingers up and down your arm. They love to keep things harmonious, so expect gentle caresses, romantic eye contact, and sweet gestures. Everything about their touch feels like an invitation, one that pulls you in with grace and elegance. Passion needs to be equal.

1H – Seductive, charming—sex is an art. 2H – Luxurious lover—loves slow, indulgent pleasure. 3H – A master of words—flirting is their weapon. 4H – Needs emotional intimacy to fully open up. 5H – Passionate but elegant—loves the romantic build-up. 6H – Focused on mutual satisfaction—perfectionist about pleasure. 8H – Drawn to deep, soul-binding sex—intensity must be mutual. 9H – Adventurous, playful, enjoys new experiences. 10H – Magnetic, irresistible—sexual energy feels high status. 11H – Open-minded, experimental—loves exploring fantasies. 12H – Secretly craves total surrender—hidden depths of passion.

When They're Into You: Every touch feels like an invitation. They’ll take their time, making sure every glance and movement is perfectly timed for maximum effect.

🎬 Scenario: Champagne glasses clinking, slow dancing under fairy lights, the feeling of silk against skin.

♏️ Scorpio Mars | 8th House

Scorpio Mars craves intense connection—they want to merge with you on a soul-deep level. Think of a quiet room, whispered secrets, and an energy that’s both passionate and mysterious. They’ll hold you tightly, maybe pulling you even closer when you think they can’t. Every touch feels like a promise of something deeper. Your soul belongs to them.

1H – Dominant, intense, you’re theirs—seduction is psychological. 2H – Slow, possessive, stamina for days—sex must feel earned. 3H – Dirty talk that penetrates the soul—turns minds inside out. 4H – Emotionally binding—sex must feel like an unbreakable tie. 5H – Dark, passionate, hypnotic—lures lovers in like a trap. 6H – Extreme focus—makes sure their partner is wrecked. 7H – Drawn to power plays—obsessed with control. 9H – Sex must expand them—thrives on forbidden experiences. 10H – Uses sex as power—irresistible yet untouchable. 11H – Secretly taboo-loving—acts detached, but their mind is wild. 12H – A ticking time bomb—secret cravings they don’t admit.

When They're Into You: Their gaze alone will make you weak. They’ll pull you in with an unshakable magnetism.

🎬 Scenario: Low-lit rooms, the scent of leather and warm skin, a whispered “come here” before they pull you into their arms.

♐️ Sagittarius Mars | 9th House

Sagittarius Mars is playful, free-spirited, and loves exploring new ways to connect. Expect spontaneous, fun-loving energy—they want to keep things light, full of laughter, and open to discovery. They crave excitement and connection that feels genuine and unrestrained. They enjoy sex in different places, different cultures, with different rules.

1H – Unpredictable, playful, fast and wild—loves the chase. 2H – Sensual but restless—needs constant excitement. 3H – Flirty, teasing—words turn them on more than touch. 4H – Warm yet detached—loves deeply but won’t be trapped. 5H – Sex is a sport—playful, high-energy, always fun. 6H – Surprisingly attentive—a pleaser but in their own way. 7H – Loves a challenge—needs a partner who pushes back. 8H – Unapologetically blunt about desires—zero shame. 10H – Seduces through status—sex is a conquest. 11H – Open-minded, freaky, will try anything once. 12H – Secretly insatiable—needs spiritual connection but avoids it.

When They're Into You: They’ll keep things exciting, always finding an excuse to pull you into a new adventure—whether that’s a road trip or a stolen kiss under the stars.

🎬 Scenario: Barefoot runs through the sand, kissing on a Ferris wheel, the thrill of being caught in the rain together.

♑️ Capricorn Mars | 10th House

Capricorn Mars is grounded, sensual, and all about taking their time. They don’t rush; they want to make every touch meaningful. Whether it’s a light graze of their fingers or a lingering kiss on your forehead, they bring a steady, controlled passion that makes you feel safe and desired. Their biggest turn-on is power. Status = aphrodisiac.

1H – Controlled but feral underneath—dominant in a quiet way. 2H – Stamina of a god—slow, calculated, makes it last. 3H – Silent but deadly—lowkey filthy mind. 4H – Needs deep trust—sex is sacred and serious. 5H – Passionate but reserved—a beast once unleashed. 6H – Obsessed with perfecting their partner’s pleasure. 7H – Needs a serious partner—sex must be earned. 8H – Boundaries don’t exist—completely takes over. 9H – Loves breaking limits—challenges their partner sexually. 11H – Freaky but in private—secretly loves pushing societal limits. 12H – Kinky but no one knows—hidden dark cravings.

When They're Into You: They’ll take things slow, but when they decide they want you, you’ll know. Their energy is steady, confident, and all-consuming.

🎬 Scenario: A strong hand at the small of your back, lingering glances across a crowded room, a deep, grounding embrace after a long day.

♒️ Aquarius Mars | 11th House

They’ll surprise you with a sleepy, spontaneous kiss in bed, lips brushing against yours as they mumble sweet words you can barely make out. Aquarius Mars is quirky and unpredictable; they love keeping things fresh and new. Expect unconventional moves, a bit of playful teasing, and a level of comfort that lets you be yourself without judgment. They’re into experimentation and letting you see every unique side of them. In bed, they have no shame in trying everything.

1H – Unpredictable, experimental—thrives on shock factor. 2H – Detached but deeply physical—only commits when obsessed. 3H – Sexually rebellious—dirty talk + unexpected moves. 4H – Emotionally unpredictable—one day passionate, next day cold. 5H – Sex is an experiment—playful, no rules. 6H – Lowkey obsessive about perfecting pleasure. 7H – Attracted to strange or unconventional partners. 8H – Freaky but detached—doesn’t belong to anyone. 9H – Thrives on sexual freedom—hates being tied down. 10H – Secretly dominant—power and status fuel desire. 12H – Hidden fantasies no one expects—kinkier than they admit.

When They're Into You: They’ll surprise you, pulling you into spontaneous moments that feel thrillingly out of the ordinary. They want to keep things unpredictable.

🎬 Scenario: Kissing in the middle of a busy street, neon lights reflecting in their eyes, hushed conversations at 2 AM that turn into something more.

♓️ Pisces Mars | 12th House

They’ll pull you close in a hug, holding on just a bit longer than usual, as if they’re trying to melt into you. Pisces Mars brings a dreamy, otherworldly vibe—they want every touch to feel meaningful and almost ethereal. Expect soft whispers, lingering glances, and a vibe that feels like stepping into a fantasy. Their touch is gentle, tender, and makes you feel like the rest of the world has faded away. They can be the most intoxicating and unforgettable lover.

1H – Dreamy, hypnotic—sex feels like a different reality. 2H – Slow, sensual, almost trance-like—pleasure is an art. 3H – Seduction through soft whispers and teasing. 4H – Deeply emotional—sex must feel like melting into someone. 5H – Passionate but fluid—mood-based, needs the right vibe. 6H – Subtle but intensely giving—sensitive to every reaction. 7H – Needs romance and fantasy—love must feel like destiny. 8H – Seduction is spiritual—loses themselves in their partner. 9H – Drawn to taboo experiences—loves the unknown. 10H – Power is seductive—but they hide their intensity. 11H – Freaky but dreamy—sex is a fantasy come to life.

When They're Into You: They’ll make you feel like you’re in a dream. Their touch is soft, their gaze full of meaning, and their presence feels like a warm current pulling you under.

🎬 Scenario: A kiss in the rain, fingertips brushing like they’re painting poetry on your skin, lying together in a sea of blankets, lost in a world of your own.

[puckinghischier]

thinking about comforting nico during this weird playing period.. he comes home upset and frustrated with not only the team but with himself.

he’d be so mopey, just kind of dragging around, not really saying much. mumbled answers to your questions, saying he’s not hungry, no input on what to watch. he’d kind of just go lay in your shared bedroom, headphones-in-and-staring-at-the-wall, kind of mopey.

you’d pad softly into the room, knowing you had to bust him out of the slump somehow. he had every right to be frustrated and upset, but you hated seeing your bright boy so down and dark.

he’d have his head leaned back with his eyes closed, legs stretched out in front of him with his hands resting clasped on his stomach. you softly crawl onto the bed to sit cross-legged beside of him. you poke at his soft belly a few times to get his attention.

peeking one eye open, he raises his head and removes one ear bud.

“what’s up?” he flatly asks, so unlike himself.

you smile at his fuzzy hair, his lack of properly drying it before slipping a beanie over it to leave the rink evident.

“let’s go for a drive,” you propose.

he scrunches his nose up at your suggestion, not interested in the slightest at getting back out into the cold air and riding around the city he keeps disappointing.

“not really in the mood,” he shakes his head, going to put the bud back in his ear until you grab his arm.

“please?” you give him your pouty eyes, hoping they’ll work now just like they do every other time.

reluctantly he agrees, tossing a sweatshirt on and covering his messy hair with a hat.

you bundle up yourself, slipping on a pair of comfy shoes before meeting him at the door, his hand reaching for the keys resting on the hook on the wall.

your hand beats his, though, grabbing his car keys before he can.

“you’re passenger princess tonight, bud”

he rolls his eyes, holding open the door so your smug self can walk out, making your way down to the drafty parking garage and seating yourself in the drivers seat of his lush mercedes.

pulling out of the garage, you turn the radio on to play whatever he was listening to last, some swiss rap you couldn’t understand the words to playing softly through the speakers. nico isn’t talking, just looking at the various lights and buildings as you drive through the quiet city.

most of the traffic from the game is already dispersed, giving you an easy ride to the mystery destination you didn’t tell him about.

you half expect him to figure it out based on your pattern of turns and familiar surroundings, but he must really be in his head, because when you park his car on the street outside of your destination, he’s still staring, unaware that the car even stopped moving.

“hey, neeks, come back to me,” you softly touch his arm, startling him a bit.

he looks over at you, almost like he forgot where he was, relaxing once his brain registered there was no threat. just you, looking over at him sweetly, as you always do.

“sorry, got lost thinking,” he mumbles, a little embarrassed. you smile at his accent shining on “thinking”, the subtle slip of his lips when pronouncing the word one of your favorite things about him

“s’alright. we’re here, though, so we gotta get out of the car.”

his thick eyebrows furrow in confusion, turning to look out the window to figure out where “here” is.

once he sees the familiar logo on the building right next to your parking spot, he looks back over at you.

“are they even still open?” he asks you, his tone lifting in a hopeful tone you haven’t heard for days.

you shake your head yes, trying not to grin like an idiot as his small show of excitement. “called them before we left, asked if they’d stay open a little bit longer for a special customer.”

the small, swiss owned bakery was somewhere you and nico had found on one of his few days off, simply setting out to explore the city with no plan in mind. on your lengthy walk, the sky had unexpectedly opened up, drenching both of you to your core. you ran into the closest storefront you could find, needing cover from the downpour.

the second your soaked figures trampled into the store, you were met with some of the most delicious smells you’d ever encountered in your life. the small space was empty, other than a plump older woman cleaning a display case of some of the most delicious looking pastries you’d ever seen.

“oh je!” the woman exclaimed when she saw the state of the two of you.

you thought the expression has sounded familiar, but couldn’t place it before she started speaking again.

“oh you poor kids, please, come sit, let me get you something to dry yourself,” the woman insisted, pulling out a couple of chairs at a small table, rushing off to find something dry to give you.

you heard her voice conversing with someone, a language you definitely had heard before, while you took your seat in the wooden chair.

she came back out to the two of you with warm dish towels, allowing you to at least rid your face of the excess water. nico was eyeing her suspiciously as she was bumbling about her husband making both of you a hot tea and something warm to snack on with it.

when he started speaking swiss german to her, you had no clue what was being said, but you loved the way he melted into being able to use his native language with someone who understood him and spoke it back. a tall, thin old man came out of seemingly nowhere in the middle of their conversation, two mugs of tea in hand.

the older man joined right in their conversation, his kind face just as excited as nico seemed to be.

the two of you ended up sitting in the small bakery for longer than anticipated, the rain long gone before you made your exit. the conversation had eventually switched back to english, the woman explaining how they had moved to the states many years ago, their dream of owning a bakery in the city finally coming to fruition a couple of years ago.

nico was amazed at the selection of swiss desserts they had, and praised their recipes as being reminiscent of his mothers. the couple insisted you take a whole hoard of stuff home, wanting nico to have a piece of home to enjoy.

the hidden gem ended up being a frequent weekend destination for you and nico, making a visit at least once a week when he’s home. the shop was so small and off the beaten path that nico never had to worry about someone spotting him there, going and sitting and conversing with his new friends for hours as you sat and watched their animated conversations.

you even found yourself frequenting the bakery on your own when nico was gone for any length of time, needing your own pastry fix. always being welcomed with open arms, you never left without a special pastry just for nico to have when he returned home.

which is what lead you here tonight, wanting to bring him even the smallest bit of comfort you could.

“schätz, did you really?” he uses the term of endearment you loved the most, having heard the shop owner utter it to his wife several times during your visits. “you shouldn’t have, they need their rest.”

you roll your eyes at his insistence on never wanting someone go to any extra lengths for him. he never wants anyone to be inconvenienced for his sake, even during times like these when he deserves to be made to feel special.

“hush, they insisted on it. you know how they are, too stubborn for their own good,” you wave off his concern, the concerned tone of the woman fresh in your mind when you called and explained the situation. “they even told me they were making something extra special for you tonight, so i hope you’re hungry after all that skating.”

nico doesn’t react to your words, staring at you so intently you were beginning to squirm at the gaze.

sensing your shift in body language, nico breaks the loud silence of the car.

“i love you, you know that?”

you giggled at his words, because of course you know that. he tells you all the time. every day. as often as he can.

“yes, neeks, i know that. and i love you too.”

he shakes his head slightly.

“no, i mean it. i love you so much. you…you always know what to do when i’m being a pouty mess. you never fail to make me feel better by just being you, but when you do things like this, even though i’ve been closed off and pouty this whole week because of the team and how our game is right now, even when i don’t deserve it, you still always manage to know exactly what i need.”

he grabs your hand in the middle of his small speech, needing to touch you so you can feel his words and his sentiments.

“well, you do deserve this. you always do. especially with how things have been going for you lately, because you’re giving it your all, always. and i’m proud of you. win or lose, i’m so proud of you, nico.”

you squeeze his hand in yours, emphasizing your point.

nico can’t stand how far away you are from him all of a sudden, reaching over and pulling your face across the console to meet his, consuming himself in you. the feeling of your lips on his melts away any thought in his head about his job and is filled with only you. the taste of your fruity chapstick, the softness of your face in his hands, the smell of your perfume still left over from earlier.

he tries to tease your lips open with a swipe of his tongue, but you give a small laugh as you pull yourself back.

“alright now, can’t be doing all that, now. you’ve got a hot, home cooked swiss meal waiting on you i promised some very eager people you’d be by to try ten minutes ago. don’t want them to think we flaked, do you?”

“oh god, i hope it’s traditional fondue,” he groans at the idea. “i’m sorry, baby, but this american version is shit, and i can’t pretend to like it anymore,” he completely switches up on you, taken over by the thought of food, completely unaware you’d already expressed to the owners how it was his favorite, a hot pot of the cheesy dish awaiting him behind the door he’s speeding towards.

[moonstruckme]

i would KILL for a spencer reid x bau!reader who greets each other after a case is over like the taylor/travis post-concert video 🙏

Thanks lovely!

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 453 words

By the time he gets off the jet, Spencer’s exhausted. The team had spent all of the previous night working the case and then arresting the killer in the early hours of the morning, and he hadn’t even been able to catch a wink on the five-hour flight back from California. The sun is too bright, his back hurts from hunching over a desk all night, and he really, really wants to demolish some takeout from the Chinese place across from his apartment. 

None of that matters when he enters the building and sees you already on your way to greet him. Your walk turns smoothly into a run as a smile breaks out on your face, and even though he’s ready for it, Spencer makes a little “oof” when you throw your arms around his neck. 

You squeeze him tight, an almost inaudible squealing sound coming from the back of your throat as you press your head into his neck for a split-second before pulling back and kissing him. Spencer smiles against your lips, and you have to stop when it catches, your teeth clacking together. 

“Missed you,” you say, beaming up at him. 

He keeps one hand around your waist while using the other to clear the hair from your forehead, dropping a kiss there. “Missed you more.” 

“Not possible.” You give him another squeeze, going up on your tiptoes to hook your chin over his shoulder. 

“Does this have to happen every time?” Prentiss asks, brushing past the two of you. 

Spencer can feel your silent laughter under his palm. “Only as long as I’m on desk duty,” you say. You lower yourself to the ground to send a pointed look in Hotch’s direction. 

He doesn’t look up from his phone, large fingers punching comically tiny buttons as he texts. “One more week,” he says, going up the stairs to his office. 

You’re disappointed but not surprised, frown evaporating when Spencer laughs at you. He palms your face, tilting it up for another quick peck. “Did you really think you were going to sway Hotch with PDA?” 

“Worth a try,” you chirp, chasing him for more, but Spencer dodges you and you hit his chin. You’re fine with that, and you kiss it again to show it. “Bribery’s all I’ve got.”

“Once your hip has healed, we’ll be happy to have you back out there with us.” 

You hum. “Sure, whatever. Hey, want to grab takeout from that place across the street on our way home? You must be hungry.” 

Spencer’s hand traces a path down the inside of your arm until he gets to your hand, intertwining your fingers as you walk towards the elevator. “You have no idea.” 

[eldritch-spouse]

Santi (and the icons) with a darling that, every time they have sex, as soon as they get inside you, via fingers, tongue, or dick, they immediately cum. No matter what they do, no matter how much endurance they have, they immediately cum so hard they have to stop for a bit. And every time they can go again, the same thing happens, and they don't know why. (I'm dying imagining the look on Cero and Kaly's faces).

[YO I FUCKING LOVE THAT. WOAH. You triggered something in me anon.]

Santi can't say this happens to him often. Or at all, honestly. It's the first time he's ever penetrated anyone and immediately finished. When he's not clutching you for dear life, grunting and moaning from the suddenness of his own orgasm, he spends a few moments wondering how this happened while watching his own cum drop to the sheets between your legs. This is about one of the most disappointing things he could do to a customer. But it was also probably one of the best orgasms of his entire life, if he's being honest. Somehow, someway, with heated cheeks, Santi apologizes smoothly and suggests focusing on you for a while now (mostly because, even if he's not flagged, he's still out of it). Hahah, guess he was reeeally hungry love... He's going to work to build more endurance, you deserve to get fucked properly without him blowing his load instantly.

There are so many things Rinx expected, but not this. The Icon shudders and garbles a noise like he's being choked when possibly the harshest load of his life leaves him, gripping you so hard it bruises. As the Icon deflates, he wonders how long it must have been to make this happen. Ultimately, he chalks it up to romantic feelings actually being the cause of his quickshot moment, growing increasingly embarrassed when it keeps happening. To the point where Rinx might spend a lot more time in foreplay stages, to both ensure you're having a good time and to let himself enjoy acts like thigh-fucking or even a simple handjob. He can't often resist the thought of just sliding into you for an instant orgasm though, it's a little too tempting when you're just at arm's length. He'll only work on it if you express disappointment.

Cero freezes. It wasn't just the scandalous noise he made, the beastial drooling or even the jitter of his hips as he had no choice but to hump through the quickest orgasm of his life. It was that he did this with you, the one person he cares to truly impress in bed. Cero doesn't fail in bed. He's got an enviable cock and he has stamina, he knows what to do, he's no novice- Yet there's nothing but shame in him when he feels his own seed seep through you, coating his dick and thighs mockingly. He doesn't even allow you to look at his face, shoving you on the bed face-down and working relentlessly to make you cum before you can think about saying anything. If you're smart, you won't tease him about it. For your own good. Cero immediately starts cockwarming sessions to try and fix this somehow, desensitize himself, but as soon as either one of you shifts too much, he'll buck and blow it inevitably. He hates this.

Livius is another one that freezes. He's also never had this happen to him. And, as far as he knows, he can't physically force himself to be a quickshot in order to mimic anyone. He's going to pay very close attention to how you react to this, because there's no way you're not feeling the bucket load he just drilled into you. His go-to response is to immediately shift into a demeanor that you might like. Whether it be domineering and harsh or pathetic and desperate, he seeks to overwhelm you enough to forget that even happened. When this repeats itself, adding further stress to Livius, he vows to fix it by changing you, instead of himself. How alien. Fine. If he must cum every time he enters you, then maybe you ought to suffer the same fate, then the two of you will truly be in synch, right? It's only a matter of time until he finds a way to achieve this.

Kalymir sees this as a defeat. You've defeated him by completely catching him by surprise. He may have snarled his climax and slumped for the briefest of moments, exhaling almost softly against you, but a rage so hot consumes him that the King gives you absolutely no second to mock him. He may be pretty spent, and the overstimulation is almost hurting him, his legs are certainly trembling a little- But Kalymir will keep fucking you through his orgasm, a gross and sloppy sound ringing as he makes it a point to have you climax as quickly as possible too. The more this happens, the more frustrated he gets, though the orgasm is always satisfying and good. He tries fucking you in every position, in every other hole, it's pointless. At some point, Kalymir just builds endurance to keep rutting you through his first orgasm, not even counting it. He always kind of ends up sweating like a pig and collapsing somewhere though. Doesn't matter, it's a workout.

You might think Zizz is a quickshot simply because he's the King of sloth, but he himself is kind of bothered by this. There's nothing he loves more than taking sex slow, you might be trapped with him for hours at a time. So he grunted and spasmed when he was forced to orgasm as soon as you took him in. He'll take a bit longer to recover from it, letting you sit plugged with his load for a bit, but Zizz doesn't freak out. After all, he has time, he can play with you and your now sloppy hole for a while, waiting to recover. Zizz accepts this rather well, and even your jabs are welcomed, but expect his own jeering and getting cum-soaked fingers in your mouth if you talk too much. He grows to like the sensation of immediately marking you, before any real fucking happens. Zizz is also lazy enough to grab you for a quick orgasm, then let you decide if you want to continue or just leave the encounter there.

Vorticia has no idea how this even happens. All she did was eat you out. She can't possibly be that desperate for sex. She tries to mask it as well as she can so that you don't notice it, but it's hopeless, she's always been very vocal as a woman when she comes. Fortunately, it's easier for her than it is for a male to keep going, so she simply punishes you for any snide comments and makes sure to proportion an equally pleasurable experience. She'd like to know why she keeps orgasming basically untouched just by inserting anything in you, but it's a brand new sensation, and she'd be lying to say that it doesn't feel amazing. Instead of being deeply embarrassed, the Queen experiments, thinking that maybe she can create an even more intense instant orgasm by perhaps penetrating you with an engorged clit. You will never leave these encounters without your own share of course, but Vorticia usually gets several.

Vesper takes it in stride. He knows he's not a quickshot, you just have insane potential. Your body is so perfect!! He himself has made many people cum as soon as they enter him, as soon as they touch him, it's only fitting that you sport the same talent. He relishes in this, always eager to milk as many orgasms as he can out of both you and him, he even uses his magic to augment the experience, to make it so that both you and him are constantly going over the edge from the smallest stimulus. It's an addicting loop that drives him completely feral and usually destroys any room the two of you get started in. This is technically kind of bad, because Vesper will exhaust you dangerously and might thrust himself into spontaneous ruts, bursting out of the mansion to ravage the streets after a lengthy time with you. The King will not stop singing your praises, always eager to take you to some of the most challenging people he knows, just so he can see the looks on their faces when they instantly bust their load.

[russellsppttemplates]

Charles cooking for the kids and they are not the biggest fan of his cooking

"Mama isn't home?", Hervé asked as Charles parked the car in the garage, the spot where you parked your car empty.

"She's having dinner with her friends", Charles explained. As much as he loved spending time with his family in their own bubble, he would be lying if he said that he wasn't looking forward to having his kids' undivided attention on him for the night.

"We might get lucky tonight, maybe she left something made already for us", Hervé mumbled as he got out of the car, "might not be that bad after all", Amélie completed his sentence as she hopped off her seat while Charles carried Thomas up on his hip, walking up to stairs and letting the kids get comfortable in house clothes while he prepared their snacks.

"Do you have any homework, Hervé?", he asked as he cut up some fruit, waiting on the toaster to jump so he could add the bread to their plates.

"No, Ms. Rouvière said we had been well-behaved today, so we didn't get any", your son said as he sat on the stool, making silly faces and playing with Thomas and his building blocks.

"I'm very hungry!", Amélie ran inside the kitchen, sitting on the stool and waiting for her plate as Charles distributed them, "are you, amour? I have this here, and if you want more, let me know and I'll make it. I just don't want you to waste food, that's all", Charles smiled as he kissed the top of her head.

When dinner time came around, Charles had the kids set the table and patiently wait for him to bring the pots and pans to the table, "do you think the pasta will be hard like last time?", Amélie asked her older brother, "I heard mama tell him to leave it longer in the stove", Hervé reasoned, "maybe he did listen to her this time".

"It looks okay... I guess", Amélie added, seeing the pasta on the pot before looking at the giggly Thomas on his high chair, "at least you get the soup mama made for you", she shrugged. Amélie almost always joined you in the kitchen when you batch cooked soup for your little one. Because it made your routine easier, you would often make a big batch and store it in single servings so meal time for Thomas would be easy and you could do it without a hitch everyday.

Granted, the pasta bolognese wasn't the best they've had, but the pasta was considered al dente and the meat wasn't too flavourful, but better that last time where it was too salty.

"It's a good thing papa always let's us have two rounds of dessert", Amélie giggled as Hervé gathered the plates to leave them at the spot on the table where you usually sat, "maybe mama will bring some leftovers", he smiled.

When you got home, the two older kids were first to greet you, "Hi mama!", they said, "Papa is upstairs putting Thomas to sleep", Amélie offered as she looked for something. "You didn't bring anything from the restaurant?", she asked, "no, amour. I ate the last slice of cheesecake they had for the night actually", you said, quirked brow at her question, "did papa not cook the pasta again properly?", you chuckled.

"It was okay, didn't taste of much, but better than tasting bad, I guess", Hervé shrugged his shoulders much like you had done.

"Amour, you're back!", Charles announced his presence, kissing your lips, "did you have a good dinner?", he asked.

"It was good, but I must say I'm feeling peckish, maybe some cookies would be nice", you pouted, prompting him to get them for you.

"This is just once, okay?", you tutted to both kids as they nodded, asserting that eventually you'd have to leave something for them next time you had dinner out without them and Charles was the one in charge of the food.

(Thank you for your submission ✨️)