#because i don't think it can always be as simple as 'will of fire = bad'

[skele-bunny]

Hi have pt 3 of Mountains grief. (Pt 1, pt 2)

Guilt. (CW) Mountain/Aether/Dewdrop

CW - Mentioned Deaths

Tags: Violence, Hurt/Little Comfort, Hallucinations Due to Grief, Mountain has Anger Issues

Characters: Mountain, Ifrit, Rain, Swiss, (past) Aether, (past) Dewdrop, Misc.

(banners by @ wrathofrats . MDNI)

"Hey... Helloooo? Oh I swear, it really is like a bear in hibernation. What's that show— With the squirrel lady and dirty Dan?" Small hands touched his chest, rubbing and trying to get attention.

Another pair of hands gently caressing under his chin. "Pft, are you comparing him to that hibernation episode where Sandy went wild?"

"Yeah! That's the one!"

"I can hear you, you know." Mountain yawned, smiling softly as he opened his eyes.

His smile faded as the sources weren't there, sitting up slowly and touching his fur. Mountain looked down at his lap, quiet and trying to let himself wake up more before his alarm went off, angrily pushing the snooze button. He stood up from the bed, going to his vanity and staring at a picture. Was his mind always this fuzzy?

He elected to ignore it as he picked up the necklace with two wedding bands, slipping his own on and stepping to the bathroom.

It didn't take long for him to get dressed, throwing his hair into a low ponytail as he walked to the practice room. He stepped inside, grimacing as he once again found himself to be the last one to arrive, heads turning and little waves heading his way.

He barely acknowledged any before stepping to the tiny platform where his practice kit sat, pushing his glasses up, and grabbing sticks. He could hear Papa's voice, but it was still muffled. Everything felt muffled. Mountain glanced up and quickly did a double take as mental images merged with reality, rubbing his eyes and cursing softly under his breath.

Eyes were on him.

"Ah, Mountain?" Copia smiled nervously. "Did you hear me?"

"No, Papa. I apologize."

"It's alright. I said we'll be starting Macabre, as it's what we need to work on the most."

The earth ghoul nodded, shaking his arms out and setting himself into position. It came naturally, like always, Mountain closing his eyes and focusing on only himself.

1, 1, 3, 4— double, 2, 3, 4—

It was repetitive to a point. Simple yet complex.

"I don't know how you can read this." Dew tilted his head, staring at Mountain's sheet music.

"It's kinda like your bass... See, this could be your A... That's your E... Things like that. But imagine using your feet on your guitar."

Aether laughed, even Zephyr grimacing. "Oh, that is so nasty to think about. I don't think I want my paws anywhere near the strings."

"Mountain!"

His head snapped up, growling as Swiss was in his personal space but quickly quieting down as once again eyes stared at him.

"Hey, sorry, don't kill me." Swiss laughed a bit, half-way passing it as a joke with his hands up. "You spaced out... You were going too fast."

Heat rised to his cheeks, Mountain clearing his throat. "Sorry. Won't happen again."

His eyes caught Ifrit's semi-glare, rolling his eyes and turning back towards Copia.

"Do you have something you want to say, Ifrit?"

"No, I don't." The fire ghoul hissed back, tail flicking and staying forwards.

"Then watch your face."

He turned. "Or what, Mountain? Gonna growl at me?"

"Enough of that, please—" Cirrus tried to intervene, seeing it as useless as Mountain stood up anyways.

"Mistakes happen, Ifrit. You're not all that perfect either."

"I'm not saying I am! But this is the fifth practice in a row you've fucked us all up and it's not getting better!"

Papa stuttered but unable to get any words out as Rain and Phantom quickly moved off the stage and behind him as the two eldest continued to get more aggressive.

Mountain's nose flared. "I'm trying! Give me a fucking break! If you think you're so good, why don't you come up here and do it?"

"Maybe we do need a new earth ghoul or something— Just because you can't handle your grief doesn't mean you get to be a dick to everyone!"

Mountain slammed his sticks down, stepping forwards without care and knocking his set down—fur raised and fists clenched tightly, only stopping as Swiss stood in front and pushed against him with all he had.

"Knock it off!" The multi shouted, grunting as Mountain still pushed against him.

"Fucking let him!-" Ifrit shouted back. "Let him lose another! Then he won't have me to blame anymore!"

Swiss yelped as he finally got shoved out of the way, reaching Ifrit who ignited himself just to be punched in the face. He raised his fist again but froze as hands held his.

Rain stared up with a horrified expression, tears running down his face and shaking as he held Mountain. His breathing began to slow, unclenching his fist and stepping back, looking behind him as Phantom held Swiss' arm that was bleeding — having been cut by a symbol when he got shoved.

He turned back as Rain's hands slowly let go, trying to reach up more but unable to as Mountain stepped back again. Storming out of the practice room, tears flowing as he made his way back to the den.

"You can't let your anger define you all the time." Dew curled against his side.

"I'm trying."

He slammed into his room, gripping the vanity tightly and staring at his ring.

Aether smiled, gently dabbing a cotton ball on Mountain's fist. "Hey, I consider it a win. You punched a wall, not a person."

A scream erupted from his throat, shoving the items off before flipping the vanity, glass shattering and spreading on the floor. Ripping pictures and posters off the wall, toppling his dresser over, breaking his own plants before dropping to his knees. Mountain heaved before gripping his own hair, wailing hysterically against the mess of his floor.

Sweeping up glass, Mountain bent over and carefully picked up the photo of his departeds. Captured always in a smile, clinging to him and showing off their matching rings.

It was Aether's idea. Well, technically, Dewdrop's. Their smaller mate had always been curious about human customs, especially marriage, and it was simply Aether's idea to make it happen. Sure, having the bond marks was always comforting, but getting to look at something? Comforting even more.

He gently brushed off the broken glass, sighing in relief as the picture stayed unharmed. He placed it on the vanity where it belonged, tail wagging as he managed to set up the memorial again.

He cried over what he realized he had done.

Cupping Aether's crystals that held knicks and some of the dust on the floor, frantically trying to press pieces back together to no avail — Dewdrop's stained glass made from his scales having broke at the string. He fixed those first, then his own.

"I'm sorry for getting angry again," He mumbled. "I didn't... I didn't even try to stop myself. I'm sorry I failed."

Nothing came back as he stared at the picture again, hoping they'd accept his apology. He gripped the broom better and continued sweeping before a knock came, specifically Rain's as he couldn't call out his presence.

Mountain stayed silent as flashes of Rain's face came into view, comparing it too much of when he first met Dew and how equally terrified he had been coming out of the portal with rage.

Rain knocked again and without another answer, stayed at the door. Mountain watched his shadow before a note slide under the door and the shadow leave, hastily written and trying to squeeze as much as he could on such a small piece of paper.

He swallowed his guilt and approached, picking up the colored paper and reading it;

"Swiss is okay. Everyone is okay. Ifrit is sorry for what he said. Papa wants you in therapy. I'd like to talk to you, if you'd let me? You're not alone. I'm here for you, even if you don't know me."

-Rain.

Tail curling between his hooves, Mountain placed the note on his dresser, going back to cleaning the dirt from his plants that weeped from his abuse silently.

"I didn't mean to," Mountain sobbed, clutching his face as he listened to the gift his mates had given him. "I promise I didn't mean to."

Dirt surrounded the shredded pothos, uprooted and scattered on the floor. All he felt was forgiveness. The pothos trying to comfort it's owner that caused it's own harm.

"I read that Pothos are the most forgiving plants! So... I got you one. You can talk to plants, can't you? Maybe it'll help you feel better to talk out what you need, and the pothos will always forgive you!" Aether smiled as Dew held the pot, practically bouncing on his feet.

These didn't forgive him... None of them should. And neither should his pack.

His ears went muffled again as he picked up a vase.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[lev1hei1chou]

A What?

Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: You ask for a baby out of nowhere Masterlist Requests open!

"Hey, Satoru, I want a baby."

The man choked on his cereal. Milk splattered across the table, and he coughed, looking at you with wide, incredulous eyes. "You what?"

You grinned, loving his reaction. "I want a baby."

Gojo blinked, processing your words. "Like...a human baby? With diapers and all?"

You laughed. "Yes, Satoru, a human baby. Not a cursed spirit baby or a baby goat. A tiny human."

He leaned back in his chair, still stunned. "You can't just drop a bomb like that while I'm eating my Froot Loops, babe. Give a guy some warning."

You shrugged, leaning over to wipe a speck of milk off his cheek. "I thought you could handle anything."

"Yeah, curses and evil sorcerers, sure. But this...this is a whole new level of scary." He ran a hand through his white hair, making it stand up in more directions than usual. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious." You sat down across from him, your expression softening. "I think we'd make great parents."

He looked at you, eyes softening. "Of course we would. I mean, look at us. We're awesome."

You snorted. "Modest, as always."

"Hey, it's not arrogance if it's true." He grinned, then grew serious again. "But...a baby? That's a big deal."

"I know. But I want to start a family with you, Satoru."

He was silent for a moment, then his lips curved into a smile. "Okay. Let's do it."

You blinked. "Really? Just like that?"

He shrugged. "Why not? I've always wanted kids. Didn't think about it too much because, you know, job hazards and all. But if you want a baby, then I want a baby. Simple as that."

You laughed, feeling a wave of relief and excitement. "Simple as that, huh?"

"Yep." He stood up, suddenly energized. "Alright, let's make a baby right now."

Your eyes widened. "Satoru, we can't just...it's the middle of the day!"

"Details, details." He waved a hand dismissively. "I'm the strongest sorcerer in the world. I can make time for baby-making."

You couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. "How romantic."

He waggled his eyebrows. "Oh, I can be romantic. Just you wait."

The next few days were filled with Gojo's attempts at being "romantic." You came home to rose petals scattered all over the living room (which the cat was now batting around), a candlelit dinner (where he nearly set the kitchen on fire), and a bubble bath for two (where he splashed so much water that the bathroom flooded).

"You're really trying, aren't you?" you said, toweling off your hair after the bath fiasco.

He pouted. "I'm trying to set the mood."

You kissed his cheek. "I appreciate it, Satoru. But we don't need all this. Just you and me, together. That's enough."

He smiled, pulling you into his arms. "You're right. As always."

That night, lying in bed, he turned to you with a mischievous look in his eye. "So, about that baby..."

You laughed, swatting his chest. "Okay, okay. Let's do this."

A few weeks later, you found yourself holding a pregnancy test in your hand, heart pounding. Gojo was pacing back and forth in the bathroom, looking more nervous than you'd ever seen him.

"Okay, okay, okay," he muttered. "It's fine. Whatever it says, it's fine."

You glanced at the test, then at him. "Satoru, you need to calm down."

He stopped pacing and looked at you, taking a deep breath. "Right. Calm. I can do calm."

You held up the test, a smile spreading across your face. "We're having a baby."

For a moment, he just stared at you, then he whooped, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. "We're having a baby! I'm gonna be a dad!"

You laughed, holding onto him. "Yes, you are. And you're going to be amazing."

He set you down, his eyes shining. "We're going to be amazing."

Months passed in a whirlwind of doctor's appointments, baby shopping, and Gojo's over-the-top preparations. He baby-proofed the house, even the ceiling, "just in case the baby is super strong and starts climbing walls."

"Satoru, that's ridiculous," you said, watching as he padded the corners of the coffee table with foam.

He looked up at you, serious. "Safety first, babe."

When the day finally came, Gojo was more nervous than you. He held your hand in the delivery room, eyes wide as he watched the process.

"You're doing great," he whispered, though it seemed like he was saying it more to himself than to you.

Hours later, when the baby finally arrived, Gojo stared at the tiny bundle in his arms, tears in his eyes. "Hi there, little one. I'm your dad."

You smiled, exhausted but happy. "And I'm your mom."

He looked at you, his expression full of love and awe. "We did it."

You nodded, feeling a surge of emotion. "Yeah, we did."

[wishful-seeker]

Tips on how to avoid being unintentionally ableist

1. When a disabled person says they cannot do something, and you wish to offer solutions, do not make a solution that involves them powering through pain, or something thats not accessible to the disabled.

Example:

Disabled person: "washing dishes hurts too much and i cannot do it."

Abled person: "what if you did one dish at a time throughout the day?"

This statement is not respecting that this disabled person just said they "can't". Always respect that. No matter how simple the task would be for you.

Disabled person:" i think ill use plastic silverware so i don't make dishes."

Abled person: "plastic is bad for the environment!"

This statement shuts down the most accessible and disabled friendly option that this disabled person can actually do because of the abled persons personal beliefs. This is not helpful, and ableist.

Better yet, instead of offering solutions, ask them directly "is there anything you need that you do not have that would help you do this?" This allows the disabled person to think about what would work, and they will always have a better idea of what would work than you do.

To add on to this, when we say we have no more energy to solve a problem or do a task, or change our lifestyle, we mean it.

2. If you feel discomfort when a disabled person is talking about their health, good and bad, that is ableist. Your discomfort is coming from a place that deams disabled peoples very existence as a bad thing and you need to fix that.

For example:

Disabled person:" this week has been rough pain wise, ive been through a lot, felt like my body was on fire. Lucky i got new meds though and i think they're helping!"

Abled person: "can we talk about something else, this is a bummer."

Disabled people should be able to exist freely without worrying about your personal comfort. Do you really think its appropriate to tell someone in constant pain that their life is making YOU uncomfortable?

3. Do not treat disabled people as tragedies, do not romanticize their old life or put their current one down.

For example:

Disabled person: "yeah my life is pretty difficult sometimes, ive lost a lot but i still have happy moments."

Abled person: "it makes me so sad to see what disabled people go through :(. You used to love rock climbing and running, i would love to see you move around more again."

This statement is putting more value on the disabled persons abled past, and ignoring their life as a whole.

4. Do not avoid speaking to disabled people because it hurts to see your loved one disabled.

For example: my grandmother avoids conversations with me because it hurts her to see me in pain. While she has good intentions it leaves me being unable to be close to her. This is very isolating to the disabled.

5. Do not stop inviting your disabled friend/loved one out even if they are never well enough to attend. Unless we specifically ask you to stop asking if we can go out, good chances are we want to know you still care because again, disability is very isolating.

6. When a disabled person says certain things in their health have gotten better or worse, do not challenge this because you don't see a difference.

For example:

Disabled person: "yeah things are getting a little better"

Abled person sees disabled person using their wheelchair like usual: "i thought you said you were getting better?"

Better and worse are usually small changes only the disabled experience, its not like abled people healing from a broken arm. Better to a disabled person could mean they can stand for 10 more minutes.

7. Do not expect disabled people to ever be abled again, and again, do not put more value on an abled life.

For example:

Disabled person:"I have been using a wheelchair for 2 years."

Abled person: "oh you're young, im sure you'll be walking around in no time!"

This statement invalidates and ignores the disabled persons current life by hoping they get a more abled bodied life. Its fine to hope disabled people get better, but you don't get to decide what better looks like.

Hope this helps, stay punk.

[rottiens]

ਏਓ content. — boxer sukuna x childhood friend fem!reader. modern au, fwb, chocking kink, petnames (princess), no happy ending.

ਏਓ notes. idk i wanted to explore the idea of a jealous sukuna, unable to take control of a situation that gets out of his hands. reader may be read as a bitch,,, perhaps. but she is just as scared of her own feelings and ruin the friendship as he is ksjd felt i needed to clarify that.

Things had been weird lately. You assume that all unspoken situations end up like this at some point. At least, that's what you presume, because you've never found yourself in a position like this before. You haven't wanted to think about it too much, or at least not as deeply as the situation probably requires. You and Sukuna have been friends for several years now, and when you started this arrangement between the two of you, you made it very clear that there were no emotional ties, nothing that could bind you together enough to later separate you.

You were nothing more than friends hooking up, a deal implied from the very first time, right here in your room. The same place where it has happened over and over again. The room that holds your secrets, your shared laughter, tears and some heated arguments. It all started with a kiss that led to another, like the flutter of a butterfly unleashing a storm. The hunger of desire pushed you to sit on his lap, you were hungry and he knew how to feed you. So it has always been: you call and he comes.

Lately, however, the tension is different. Not the kind of tension you like, the kind where a simple glance can set your skin on fire, the kind of electricity that runs through even the boxing ring and makes you clench your thighs because you know what's coming next. What surrounds you now is an uncomfortable veil, laden with unspoken words that you both avoid, knowing that a conversation about it would only make things worse.

There's only one thing you're sure of: you don't want to overthink it.

Sukuna lets out a grunt of pain under the alcohol-soaked absorbent cotton. Out of the corner of your eye you notice how his hands, wrapped in white bandages, tighten and cling tightly to your thighs.

“Hold still,” you reproach him in a soft but firm tone as you lean over to reach for a band-aid on the bedside table.

Night has fallen, and you are both enveloped in the noisy calm of the city where the murmurs of other apartments and the distant bustle of the city seep through the walls. The atmosphere feels intimate, as if the outside world is just an irrelevant murmur compared to what is going on between you.

“ He really fucked you up, hm?” you murmur with a hint of concern in your voice. He growls low, resembling a dog that's been scolded, his brow furrowed as his red eyes bore into the wide cotton t-shirt you're wearing, especially the 'V' shape that exposes your collarbones and that little necklace hanging from your neck. You seem to notice, but decide to ignore how his gaze slides with restrained desire. “You never let yourself get hurt like that,” you add with a tone that mixes reproach and concern, pressing the alcohol-soaked cotton swab against his injured eyebrow.

“I was distracted,” he replies indifferently.

You gently push his shoulders to get a better look at him, noticing how he avoids your eyes, knowing you can read him all too easily. A black eye, a split eyebrow with a few fresh stitches, and a swollen lip; signs of a fight where he clearly wasn't in his best shape. “You weren't there,” he mutters, almost as if the confession escapes his lips.

So that's what this is about.

“I was busy with work,” you reply, trying to make it sound casual.

He emits a low sound, a deep purr that vibrates against your fingers as you continue to clean his wound. There's something in his tone that reveals a need he doesn't want to admit.

“I called, you weren't there.”

You sigh in exasperation.

“You're my watchdog now?” you tease, though behind the question lies a tension neither of you is willing to fully face.

“Are you fucking him?” the rawness of his question doesn't take you by surprise as it should. You knew this was going to blow up eventually, but still, the impact of his words causes an uncomfortable knot to form in your chest. You wonder if it was the shirt, visibly larger than you usually wear, that made him suspicious or if it was your growing coldness over the past few weeks. “You reek of him. Is that why you didn't come to see me, because you were fucking him?”

“Ryomen…” Your voice sounds like a gentle, almost motherly reproach, as if you're trying to stop a child about to get into trouble. Yet he receives it exactly that way: with a mixture of frustration and indignation, as if it's unfair of you to speak to him that way when all he wants is the truth.

“The fucking guy from your job,” he spits, his gaze piercing you with a mixture of anger and hurt that he rarely lets on. His hands are tense, knuckles white on your thighs.

The words hang in the air, heavy and toxic, mingling with the bitterness of everything unsaid between you. But deep down, you both know this goes far beyond simple jealousy.

Your tongue moistens your upper lip as you try to buy time, looking for the perfect excuse to deflect the conversation. But this time, there's no escape possible. You're trapped in his lap, his hands firmly gripping your ass, his face so close you can almost feel the heat of his skin.

“It just… happened. We have no strings attached, remember? It was what we agreed to. I thought we were both having fun.”

Sukuna lets out a bitter, dry laugh, laden with an irony that cuts through the air between you like a blade. His fingers sink harder into your flesh, making you aware of the tension coursing through his body.

“Do you really think I'm having fun right now?” he murmurs, his gravelly voice with an edge that cuts through you. The way his scarlet eyes pierce into you it's as if he's searching for something beyond your words, something even you don't know how to express. There's a restrained fury in his gaze, but also a hint of pain that you didn't expect to see. That glint that suggests that, perhaps, all this has gone further than either of you would dare to admit.

Your fingers slowly glide across the scarred skin of his shoulders, following the path of his tattoos, noting how each small movement tenses his musculature. You run down his naked torso, feel the warmth of his chest under your palms, then wrap your arms around his neck. You lean in close enough for your words to brush his lips in a whisper.

“Are you jealous, is that it? It's hard for me to tell when your boner is pushing against my ass,” you whisper to him with a mixture of mockery and desire.

Sukuna hates it when you use that tone, one that reminds him that, despite everything, he's always the one who ends up giving in to you. It's as if you have an invisible leash around his neck, and every time you pull on it, he comes without resistance. You lean a little closer, making sure his cock rubs directly against your pussy, barely covered by the thin set of panties you're wearing. The woody scent of the other man on your body confounds his senses, mixing rage, lust and something he doesn't want to name.

You hide in his neck, leaving a trail of kisses just behind his ear, that spot that always makes him lose control. Sukuna squeezes your ass cheeks tighter, pulling you even more into him, letting you feel every inch of his hardness.

“You have to talk to me,” you murmur against his skin, your teeth catching his lobe in a playful bite that makes his skin bristle. “I can't read what you're thinking.”

You know you're driving him crazy, that you're playing with fire, but you enjoy watching the cracks in his facade of hardness begin to appear and wonder how hard you can push before he snaps.

“Is this what you think I am to you, a dog you can call whenever you feel like fucking?” Sukuna spits out the words, his voice laden with a resentment he makes no attempt to hide. Every fiber of his body is still vibrating with the adrenaline of the fight just ended, and even though the physical battle is over, he still feels cornered, as if he's taking blow after blow.

Instead of responding with words, he lets his body do it for him. His hands scrape your skin, descending to your neck, squeezing gently to get your full attention. The pressure isn't enough to hurt you, but enough to make you focus on the burning that ignites in your clit, yearning to be rubbed and abused by those same hands that know exactly how to bring you to the edge.

“Is that what you want me to be?” he murmurs in a dangerous tone. “To let you use me over and over again? To make you cum on this thick cock until you're sobbing, crawling under me because it's too much?”

Your only response is a moan that escapes uncontrollably. You thrust your hips against him, seeking more friction, and he, despite his anger, begins to thrust from below, losing control over his own desire. This is what you needed, what you had forgotten in weeks without touching. Your nipples, hard and sensitive, are marked through the soft fabric of your t-shirt, begging for his mouth, for his teeth. There is always something about the way Sukuna holds you after he has humiliated you to the point of making you cum on his cock, an intimacy, that you find in no one else. It's that closeness that envelops you when he embraces you while you're still trembling after you've reached your climax.

“Answer me,” he growls, his fingers squeezing a little tighter, his voice demanding a confession.

“Yes… I need you to make me cum,” you murmur, unable to help the tremor in your voice.

Sukuna laughs, but it's not a kind sound. Your eyes widen in surprise when he lets go of your throat. The next breath you take is painful, immediately missing the pressure of his hand again.

Suddenly, he stands up, forcing you to be quick not to slip off his lap. Before you can process what's happening, he pulls on his blood-stained shirt, his movements calculated, as you stare at him blankly. “Jerk off and go to bed, princess,” he says coolly, adjusting his clothes without looking at you. “If you really wanna talk, come see me tomorrow after the fight. I'm leaving.”

With nothing more to say, Sukuna turns away, leaving the unresolved tension in the air and you with the feeling that, this time, the rules of your arrangement have changed forever.

[doki-doki-imagines]

Who falls for the mistletoe trick? feat. mk1 Liu Kang, Johnny Cage, Tomas, Mileena, Kuai Liang

author note: another severe case of "I'll die if I don't post them today" LOL. Hope you'll like them!

Liu Kang -He falls for it. -For real? The creator of this timeline didn't expect a mistletoe from his partner at the entrance of their shared house? -Yes, Liu Kang knew from day one that this would happen, and he waited, breath itching and hands tingling in front of the doorstep each day since December started. -You point up, a knowing smirk on your face and Liu Kang acts surprised, white eyes widening a bit before looking down at you. "What a surprise, dear one." His voice is steady, like always, but your ears twitch, a mischievous undertone you can hear thanks to the time you spent together. "You knew this would happen right?" You said now in his open arms, steps lulling you, door closing thanks to Liu Kang's graceful kick. "Maybe" He looks up smiling like a fool "Now it is time to celebrate traditions." -You are the first to get closer, your lips pressed against his soft ones, his right hand finding peace in the back of your head, pushing you closer, the other on your lower back, moving in slow circle, his fire slowly enveloping you, his tattoos hidden under the bandages glowing faintly. -Liu Kang loves Earthrealm traditions.

Johnny Cage -He doesn't fall for it, but you do for sure. -Not like you had any chance when all the ceiling is filled with mistletoes. -He welcomes you with open arms, smiling from one ear to the other knowing perfectly well that you won't avoid celebrating the tradition. -He asks for a kiss each step you make, they are fast, simple smacks. -Till, one step at a time, the back of Johnny hits the table, your body now laying on his one, not a single breath of air to separate your bodies. -His kisses trail down your neck, his moist lips leaving you warm all over, his right hand lifting one of your legs. -It's time to take the matter in a more comfortable place… -Bonus: How could you not expect Johnny to have mistletoe-themed boxers? "Since you have been so loyal to the tradition it would be bad to break them now, no kitty?" He says smirking, while you don't know if you wanna die or laugh at the situation.

Tomas Vrbada -He falls for it! Congrats, it's not easy to surprise a ninja. -Tomas knows what a mistletoe means, he remembers when he watched with his sister Christmas movies, disgust plastered on his face. -Tomas feels giddy, a warmth that envelopes him completely. -He feels like a fool, a dumb kid during Christmas, a giggle escapes his mouth "So, don't I get a kiss?" His arms are open. -'It should be the other way around' you think, but it doesn't develop further, more excited to kiss your lover. -He is so overjoyed his legs become jelly, Tomas could only dream of being so loved by someone. -A simple gesture that brought him immense joy, fingers tapping on your back, playing your skin like a piano. -"Why so happy Tomas? Did I do something funny?" You question, lips barely apart. "You just reminded me of happy memories." He replies, hands now steady on your hips, grey eyes twinkling with joy.

Mileena -She…doesn't fall for it. Not because she knows what a mistletoe hanging from the ceiling means, but because of her observation skill. -"Dear, why there is a plant on the ceiling?" Voice rasped, head bending slightly. "Well, it's a long story…" -You explain to her what it means, never looking at her in the eyes, worried she find the tradition (and you) stupid. -She smiles, 'thank god' you think, her plush lips finding yours before you can finish the explanation, making you stutter. The kiss is fast and for sure not satisfying, leaving you aching for more. -"Is this fine, dove?" her arms lay on your shoulders, keeping your bodies close, lips so close, but also so far away… "I think I'll have to show you how to do this, Empress" You finally close the distance, courage finally sparked your soul. Mileena grunts, a shiver runs down her spine thanks to her fave honorific. -You didn't exchange just one kiss that day.

Kuai Liang: -He totally did notice the mistletoe but also doesn't know the meaning behind it so he just walks by. -"Ah, mister! Stop right there" Index finger touching his chest, hidden by so many layers of clothing "It's time to pay up." one hand caresses his cheek, while the other glides in his onyx locks, smirk plastered on your face. -But…he doesn't move? His brown eyes look at you questioning. "So you don't know about the mistletoe tradition, mh baby?" "Care to explain, fireball?" His eyebrows furrow, way more focused than he needs to be. -And so you do, looking at his face getting softer and softer at each phrase, just to end up snickering, a familiar sparkle in his brown eyes. -"You really find any occasion to get a kiss from me." "Are you saying you'd rather not?" You pull away, watching him in fake annoyance, eyes glued to his to notice if he takes the bait. -He does, a kiss fierce as he is, a kiss that leaves you breathless but that you wish it to be neverending. -"Is this fine?" Kuai Liang asks, a hint of jolly in his voice. "Yeah, but I think you should do that again, you know, just to be su-" -You won't need to finish the phrase.

[fatherfushiguro]

─ ✦ NOBODY ELSE. || TOJI FUSHIGURO

overview hm, maybe you shouldve broke it off over the phone.. content warnings fem reader, no curses/modern au, rough s*x (kinda), cervix f*cking, fwb!toji, overstimulation, teasing, cunnilingus, doggy, petnames (doll, sweetheart, princess) and cheating hehe wc 1.1k

toji fushiguro is, or.. was your fuck-buddy up until recently. your first impression of toji was a stone-hearted fuckboy, never staying in relationships longer than a month, and never falling in love. your meet-ups with him were always strictly reserved for fucking, nothing more and nothing less. so when you got a boyfriend you weren’t sure how to break it to him, and you surely weren’t going to break it off over the phone.

you had been fidgeting with your hands outside his door thinking about what you’d say to him before finally knocking thrice on his door before he swung it open, “what brings you here, doll? left your panties?” he spoke before chuckling. “ah, i’m just kidding, come inside” following him inside, you sat down on his couch.

 it seemed like he was finishing up doing something in the kitchen so you had time to gather your thoughts. you never really had the chance to look around toji’s apartment, all your time here was reserved for his bedroom and sometimes the couch. 

toji finished up in the kitchen and sat right next to you on the couch, his built figure sinking you and the couch, “so what are you here for sweetheart?” he spoke in a gruff tone, your heart was pounding out of your chest at his simple question. “we can't do this anymore” the words shooting out of your mouth like fire, mind running a thousand thoughts per second while you await his response.

“oh? and why’s that” he was sitting up now, locking his eyes with yours, your flustered face and avoidant eyes. “b-because i have a boyfr-” just then, his calloused hands reached out to grab your chin “don't avoid m’ eyes doll, that's not what we do, is it?” you guys lock eyes with each other “i have a boyfriend toji, we can't keep doing this” he let go of your face, pulling his eyes back from you and focusing on the tv in front of him, his reaction leaves you puzzled “helloooo? did you hear me? i said i have a boyfrien-” he cuts you off and keeps his focus on the tv “does he fuck better than me?” his focus still on the tv, and before you can even respond to him “y’ know, does he eh, make you cum better than' me?” his gaze finally landing on you.

“you have yet to answer my question doll” you were writhing away under him. your face was smushed on the wet pillow under you, wet from your tears of overstimulation. he knew how sensitive you were, yet he decides to still tease you. he had you in doggy with a nasty arch, pounding away at your weeping cunt. he’s so big and bulky against you, his hands skimming all over your body.

“yer pussy’s still tight princess, are ya gonna leave me for some little bitch who can’t stretch ya out as i can? ah, y’ hurt my feelings doll” he repeatedly pounds against your g-spot leaving you a moaning mess unable to form a coherent sentence “t-tojiii pleasee, i can't t-take ittt” he was stretching you out so good, you knew you were done as soon as he slid himself inside your heat. you knew you should've left as soon as you told him you were dating someone. he made it so hard to let go of him.

his hands snaked down to feel you more, his fingers rubbing your clit in fast circles adding to the pleasure you were feeling. “aww, m’ baby can’t take it?” his fingers moving in on your clit faster with precision. “s-sso good, you're so good” he moves with such speed that sends spikes of desire to your core. “i thought you were better than this sweetheart" he teases.

 “d’you think yer precious boyfriend would care if i came inside of you?” his hips begin stuttering as they move with such fervor, assuring you he was about to release inside of you. if only you weren’t face down ass up in front of him, you’d be able to see his crazed face. pupils were blown, sweat trickled down his forehead, and a reddish tint overtook his face. he looked like he was drunk off of something, drunk off of you. “i don’t think he’d mind since you're mine anyways” his hips stutter a few more times before you feel your insides being filled, thoroughly. he couldn't resist from how warm your insides were and the way you clenched around him. 

the air around you two smelled of sex, your skin was hot to the touch with you having a sheer layer of sweat. there was a beat of silence, a moment of bliss, the sound of your heartbeat syncing with his.

toji collapsed on top of you before he manhandled you further onto his bed, “what’re you doing toj” you croaked out, your voice still shaky from the pressure. “i can’t just leave my girl messy, now can i?” now, toji knew he was a hit-it-and-quit-it type of guy but he for sure, without a doubt had a soft spot for you, an unwavering sense of love.  it's kinda why he even agreed to be your fwb, if we're being honest.

he kissed you from your belly button down until he was lying between your thighs, looking at your puffy, glistening folds “this needy pussy wants some attention, hm?”

him giving a kitten lick to your sensitive cunt and grinning when you whimpered, he loved when you made breathy moans and whimpers. he glides his finger through your wet slit, teasing you endlessly. his tongue latches on to your clit, suckling and swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves, lapping up the never-ending waterfall of slick coming out of you. “does yer’ boyfriend make you this wet princess?”

"please dont fuck- talk about him right now" you spoke in a meek, bunny-like voice. chuckling to himself, his laugh sending vibrations throughout your body. his tongue works its way up and down so messily, he sucks the soul out of your heavenly cunt just to get it all wet again. his fingers find relief inside of you while he suckles on your clit, putting them inside of you and curling right at your sweet spot. you let out a cacophony of sweet, honey-like moans, letting him know how good he’s doing at making a complete mess of you.

“hnn, my baby likes when i push here, right?” he pushes right at your sweet spot once again, making you squirm against him. you can feel him grin right against your cunt, “toji’, need more pl-easee, more”

his fingers leaving you empty where his tongue inserts itself, moving in and out of you so deliciously. he rubs your clit with superhuman speed, leaving you overstimulated and so close. “t-tojii m’ sso close, please keep going” the knot in your stomach was throbbing repeatedly waiting for the perfect moment to burst. before toji could make another smart comment on how wet you were, you squirted all over his face, completely soaking him in your juices.  

“ah, i bet’ya dont do that for him hm?”

authors note 愛 / i would like to thank grammarly, my sister for reading and screampied for the inspo on this theme ( ≧ᗜ≦)

created by @ fatherfushiguro. rbs appreciated, no plagiarizing allowed duh!

[valkyrieromanoff]

God bless your dad's genetics… Dilf! Anakin x son’s girlfriend!reader

NEXT

CHAPTER ONE: CRUISE

synopsis: when your best friend Luke asks you to pose as his girlfriend during his parents' 25th wedding anniversary cruise, you reluctantly agree. After all, you're single, he's desperate, and who can say no to an all-expenses-paid getaway? But what starts as a simple favor spirals into a tangled web of awkward introductions, suspicious relatives, and one undeniable complication: your growing, utterly inappropriate crush on Luke’s father, Anakin. Surrounded by the charming and chaotic Skywalker family, you’re forced to navigate the tricky waters of pretense, loyalty, and a passion you never saw coming.

warning: age gap (Anakin is 44 years old and the reader is in her early 20s), cheating, alternate universe, that's it for now, I'll add more warnings when the next chapters come out.

words: 1.1k

a/n: I confess that I've had this idea marinating for a while, and now seeing the latest photos of Hayden at comic-con, he's so dad coded. So, I decided to take a chance and start a story, I don't know how many chapters there will be yet, but I'm excited to see where it will take us... Slightly inspired by Fuck your boyfriend('s dad) by forcemeanakin, I'm obsessed with her writing… Anyway, that's it, I hope you like it ;)

CHAPTER ONE: CRUISE

you were meant for me to find

it's out of my hands

there's nothing left to do but

cruise and just enjoy the ride

“Wait a second, let me get this straight…” you interrupted Luke, raising your hands to halt his rapid-fire explanation. He’d been talking non-stop for nearly five minutes, and you were still struggling to piece it all together. “You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend at your parents’ 25th wedding anniversary? Why on earth do you even need a fake girlfriend?” You adjusted yourself on the bed, pulling a pillow against your chest for comfort, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Luke let out a long, dramatic sigh, raking a hand through his messy blond hair. “You know how my parents are… always in my business. And now with Leia bringing her boyfriend, I just don’t want to be the only one showing up alone.” He looked at you with those pleading puppy-dog eyes, his voice softening. “Come on, just this once. Please? Didn’t you say you wanted to go on a cruise someday? Here’s your chance.”

You arched an amused eyebrow. “So, what—you’re trying to bribe me now?”

Luke shifted uncomfortably, fiddling with a loose thread on his jacket. “Well, when you put it like that…” he muttered sheepishly. “Look, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I—I trust you, okay? You’re the only person I can count on for this.”

His desperation was hard to ignore. You exhaled slowly, shaking your head. “Fine, I’ll do it,” you said, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips. “But only because of the all-inclusive package. Don’t think this means I approve of your ridiculous plan.”

A grin split across Luke’s face as he lunged forward to hug you. “Thank you! Seriously, you’re saving my life here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, pushing him back playfully. “But if this backfires, you owe me big time.”

Luke hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right, um… about that. I might have already put your name on the guest list.” 

Your eyes narrowed as you shoved his shoulder. “You what? Idiot.”

---

Now, a few days later, you found yourself standing on the pier, the midday sun beating down mercilessly. You checked your phone for the third time, scrolling through messages with a faint scowl. Still no word from Luke. If he left you waiting much longer, you were seriously going to kill him.

“Hey!” His voice cut through the buzz of the crowded dock. You turned to see him jogging toward you, a backpack slung casually over one shoulder. He looked a little too cheerful for someone who had left you baking in the sun.

“You’re late,” you called, crossing your arms as he approached. 

“Fashionably,” he quipped with a smirk, completely unbothered by your glare.

“thought you’d forgotten about me,” you teased, elbowing Luke lightly in the chest as he finally reached you.

Luke shrugged, offering a sheepish grin. “Blame my parents. They were running late because my dad accidentally packed the wrong suitcase for my mom. Total chaos—everyone was scrambling to fix it.”

You chuckled, imagining the scene. Though you hadn’t met Luke’s family yet, you’d heard plenty about them over the years. His parents were something of a legend in his stories: the perfect, if sometimes chaotic, couple who’d married young and raised twins.  

Padmé Amidala, Luke’s mother, was a force of nature. A federal deputy and professor of International Relations, she somehow juggled her demanding career with being a devoted wife and mother. Strong, brilliant, and endlessly busy, yet always managing to prioritize her family.

Anakin Skywalker, Luke’s father, was no less impressive. A retired army general, he’d left his military career after the twins were born to focus on raising them. Luke often spoke of how his dad spent hours tinkering in their garage, restoring vintage cars and building gadgets—a far cry from his days in uniform.

“Come on, let’s get moving,” Luke said, snapping you out of your thoughts. He grabbed the handle of his own suitcase and motioned toward the massive cruise ship docked ahead. 

You followed, letting him lead the way. The pier was packed with elegantly dressed guests, most of whom were likely Padmé’s colleagues—senators, representatives, and a mix of politicians from all corners. The line to board snaked back farther than you could see. 

“Do we really have to wait through all this?” you asked, eyeing the crowd and clutching the handle of your wheeled suitcase. 

Luke shot you a sly grin. “We don’t wait in lines.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he veered off toward the front of the queue, guiding you toward a set of stairs reserved for VIPs. You followed, struggling a little as your suitcase bumped against the steps. 

"Luke, get your girlfriend's suitcase," a strong, masculine voice called out from behind you, deep and commanding yet tinged with warmth. "Otherwise, she'll think I didn’t teach you how to be a gentleman."

Startled, you turned toward the source of the voice just as Luke, already at the top of the stairs, groaned in exasperation. He glanced back with a tired expression but made no move to help. 

“It’s okay, really, it’s not heavy,” you mumbled shyly, gripping the handle of your suitcase a little tighter. But as your eyes met the man addressing Luke, the words caught in your throat. 

Your lips parted slightly in disbelief. Gods… what a man. 

Standing before you was, without a doubt, the most stunning man you’d ever seen. Anakin Skywalker. His angular face was framed by sandy blond hair, slightly tousled with subtle waves that gave him a rugged charm. His piercing blue eyes—so vivid and expressive they seemed to pull you into a storm—were framed by faint lines that hinted at years of experience and a life well-lived. His presence was magnetic, his confident stance and the faint smirk on his lips radiating an almost effortless allure.  

“Come on, I insist,” Anakin said, his voice softening as he stepped closer. He reached out and gently took the suitcase from your hand before you could protest. His touch lingered just briefly, and the warmth of his hand sent a flicker of heat up your arm. “Not heavy, huh?” he teased with a wink, his tone laced with amusement.  

You managed a weak nod, your heart racing as you watched him carry your suitcase up the stairs with ease. Every movement was graceful, effortless, as though he hadn’t spent years off the battlefield but still carried himself like he could command a room—or a galaxy. 

Luke rolled his eyes at his father’s display, muttering under his breath. “Show off.”

Ignoring him, Anakin reached the top of the stairs and set your suitcase down carefully before glancing back at you with an easy smile. “Welcome aboard,” he said, his voice warm and inviting.  

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to keep your expression neutral, but your mind was racing. What the hell have you just gotten yourself into?

[loveemagicpeace]

🦁Star Notes🦁

U can see the death when u look at the Capricorn rising. They have this death look. The devil look. What I also find fascinating about them is how much respect they have for themselves. They will never, ever allow you to disrespect them. And they know how to mark their border. The power that they have when they are silent is amazing.

I always know when someone is virgo rising cuz they have that angry look. They often look as if they are angry, but in reality they are not at all. In fact, they often worry about how they look in front of others. But they will always give their opinion or give advice if you ask them for it.

I feel like sagittarius rising are the one when they will always start a conversation or a debate when they meet someone. They also tend to look for intelligent people and will be very attracted to someone who has good thinking and communication skills. They really appreciate these things on a person. And they really like to joke, so you can laugh a lot with them.

The difference between Taurus & Libra. Libra rising like nice clothes but more elegant clothes, more expressed beauty and in a way they like simpler things. Taurus rising sometimes likes that it is more extra, especially if they have fire placements in their chart and they like jewelry, trainers. Taurus can sometimes go overboard with jewelry and really wear a lot of it.

The most transformative house you can have is the 8th house. Whenever you have transiting planets in the 8th house, the energy of that house is visible. You feel as if you are going through an emotional transformation and perceive things around you very deeply but at the same time beautiful, because you know that something beautiful always comes from something deep. The 8th house shows the awareness of what is really important to us deep down, and we begin to perceive relationships differently than seeing which relationship we really feel and which one we don't. What deep down we really need and brings us satisfaction. How others can meet our needs. How far we will go for others. It shows sacrifices for others and how others sacrifice for us. This house also shows everything we can gain from others and what we share with others. Usually during this time we share a deep pain with others and go through a difficult time with a person (or there is someone who helps us in need or we help them). We share a soul with another person.

I have seen many couples who are Cancer & Gemini. And I notice that many times the relationship works in the long run. They really hit it off together and find a lot in common. Both of them are somehow inclined to look for family and people with whom they can connect and create a home. I would say that someone with placements in the 3rd house is not so unstable (but the person just needs a lot of communication and understanding). They are mainly looking for someone with whom they can talk a lot.

Capricorn rising are very sincere people and I think they are one of the people who will never think of themselves as something more than others. They hold their value and respect and will not give everyone their energy because they have the mindset that not everyone is worth their energy. But they will never consider themselves to be something more (they are actually very simple people).

A lot of people who have taurus sun or 2nd house sun, venus are very materialistic. Maybe it won't be seen on the surface, but many times there are people who will spend a lot on money (especially because the sun represents the ego and it is in a way what guides you, where you are the most egocentric and stubborn, at the same time where you will work the most selfish).

9th house represents long journeys. Traveling across the sea. The sign and planets you have here represent how you look at the world and what places you like to travel to (also a sample of trips, what excites you the most). For ex.: pluto in 9th house - you like to travel to places that are dark, raw and you have a lot to see from other cultures as well. You like places where you can explore myths and legends. Places where the truth is presented to the wolf (for example, kurti parts of the city, poverty, etc.) you like to learn through history. Sun in 9th house- you will like to travel to places that inspire you (especially sunny places, places that are very stimulating). Places where you can find your joy, you can return many times to the places you used to go as a child. Places that bring you sunshine. Venus in 9th house- you like to travel to places that are lovely, rich. You also like to travel to trendy places.

Libra rising people always have some enemies who talk behind their backs, they can often attract people who wish them ill or are jealous of them. I have noticed many times that it can also be their relatives or brothers and sisters who do not allow them certain things. Often the relationship with them is not so good either. They have Pisces in their sixth house, which means they are very self-sacrificing when it comes to work and everyday things and routine.But mostly at work, so many people can use them when it comes to work or they also have hidden enemies at work. In their 12th house is virgo which also means that people never really know what kind of work they do, or people are jealous of the work they have.

People with earth mercury are usually very pessimistic. Their thoughts are often too realistic, and they often do not believe in things they cannot see or touch. Mercury is how you perceive things and how you think. People with fiery mercury are optimistic, positive and quick-thinking (which means they will quickly change their thinking or decide on something quickly. People with watery mercury think from an emotional point of view and will always perceive things and people emotionally. They are also the best at manifesting and They dream a lot and usually everything comes true.

Sometimes having Neptune in the 1st house is like being constantly in a meditate state. Things are sometimes not real to you and at the same time Neptune is part of your personality here and you can be very delusional and almost always in your own world. You are 80% in your world and 20% in reality. Even as a child, you can create your own world in which you live and it seems to you that you are living in two different worlds.

Fire venus/mars always want to have everything clarified in relationships. They will never leave without saying their last word.

Saturn in the fourth tends to restrict the flow of fourth-house energy so that one feels that nurture is limited or curtailed. Uranus signifies that the flow is erratic, unpredictable, or occurs in unusual ways. Neptune often gives the feeling that the nurturing flow is weak, without vitality, or occurs on an abstract, nonphysical level. Pluto in the fourth does not particularly restrict the flow of energy; in fact it may increase it to the point where one becomes trapped or bound by its effects, resulting in the persistence of infantile issues or behavior into adult life.

A large number of planets in the seventh indicates someone who feels incomplete alone and strives to fill the void with close partnerships or intimate confrontations. Such people function better in interaction with another. They may even encourage others to become dependent on them, thereby maintaining the relationship they need. The seventh is not really a Venusian house, contrary to what is implied by those who equate the seventh, Libra, and Venus. Venus does refer to relationships, but only ones that are loving and warm. The seventh house has no such inherent connection with love. Most planets in the seventh merely signify the kinds of energies experienced through relationships.

Saturn in the eighth resists transformations, which is why the older astrologers associated this placement with a difficult death. It is not so much a sign of a difficult death as of resistence to the idea of any kind of change.

Venus in Cancer- venus is how u love and they way you love. For example, if you are a man you may not propose marriage until you have some reliable means of earning a living; if you are a woman you make sure you won't end up sharing your lover's poverty or struggling to support him.but also how u want to be loved. As a Venus-in-Cancer person you are romantic and sensitive. Being loved is more important to you than almost anything else.

Venus in Taurus- you are affectionate and romantic, but you don't give your love away too quickly. To you, love does not exist without sex. You are very demonstrative and generous toward a lover, sometimes too much so.

Venus in Scorpio-being in love is an all-consuming experience for you. There is a profound intensity to your emotions. Your sex life is passionate and demonstrative. However, you also put love on a spiritual plane. Your deep need is to possess a lover wholly, to make your partner surrender to you body and soul.

Venus in Sagittarius-You like to experience the excitement of love in the same way you search for diversion in the rest of your life. You want passion and this is very important for you when it comes to love. Venus-Sagittarians are high-spirited, outgoing, and highly imaginative. You tend to attract powerful and influential friends. Luck in creative affairs surrounds projects undertaken in foreign countries or far from home.

Venus in Capricorn- are as careful and cautious about love as about anything else. Sometimes even too much. They can also be hard to open up. When in love, you are loyal, faithful, and dependable. There is a dichotomy between your emotional life and your sexuality: You have earthy passions but keep them separate from your mental attitude. Venus in this position indicates a personality that is jealous, possessive, and fearful of rejection.

-Rebekah✨🌻🦁

[obsessedwrhys]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Wolverine x Deadpool x F!Reader

ᯓ★ Being in a polyamory relationship with these two. (A dream inspired this AHAHHA–) fluff, lots of bickering between the two, funny/goofy shit, bit of jealousy/possessiveness, reader is fem!!

This whole relationship is a mess.

I'm talking never getting a moment of peace kind of mess.

For example this one time you drove the Honda Civic.

Nobody understood why you were the one behind the wheels 'cause now you're ramming into everything with Logan grabbing on the handle for dear life while Wade is having the time of his life at the back.

"Stop the damn car before we crash, bub! Yer gonna kill someone!" Logan shouted and at the same time Wade was screaming out the lyrics to "Highway to Hell" by AC/DC.

Did I mention how different these two are with you?

Wade loves it when you run to hug him, he would swing you around a couple of times with your legs wrapped around his waist.

As for Logan, he prefers something less than that. A simple hug is enough and you can't complain much about it because the way he completely engulfs you in his embrace always made your chest flutter.

It's no surprise that they are protective over you.

Like when you were captured by some troops in the void. The fire guy, Johnny Storm, couldn't help but try to flirt with you. He figured why not shoot his shot right?

"Hey..." He'd say, flashing you a cheesy smile.

And seeing his attempt to charm you, you couldn't help but find it amusing and chuckle.

Clearly the two didn't like it.

Which is why that may or may not be the reason why Wade decided to out the man and get him killed 🤷‍♀️ I guess we'll never know 🤔

You and Wade enjoy pulling pranks on Logan.

The sight of him being pissed off pleases you both.

There was this one time you guys swapped his whiskey to a non-alcoholic drink and you can imagine his frustration.

"WADE!!" But he can never get mad at you. He just can't.

Even Wade complains about this privilege of yours.

"Seriously Lo?! You're gonna get mad at me and not our lovely prank partner here? Come on man, we're both guilty parties in this crime scene. If you wanna get angry, at least share the spotlight :("

Cue you sticking your tongue out at Wade as he pouts with puppy dog eyes.

All jokes aside, the two love and support you dearly.

I like to think Logan is more of an old romantic and Wade is the adventurous type.

That's why it can sometimes take a while for them to decide what to get as a present for you.

"Why the fuck would she want a pillowcase with our faces on it?" Logan asked with genuine disgust in his eyes.

"Why wouldn't she?! It's cute as fuck, and you can never have too many pictures of us together. Besides, it's a lot cheaper than buying a life-sized statue of me for her bedroom, although that's an option too, I hear Wolverine-shaped body pillows are all the rage these days" Without realising, he continued on muttering nonsense to himself which had Logan roll his eyes.

"I'm buying her the leather jacket and it's final" Not letting Wade say anything, he'd walk off to the cashier with him left behind. His action causing him to get irritated.

"What about the budget?!?!" He'd raise his voice but Logan simply ignored him. Fed up, he stomps on his feet as he points at his back.

"Fine, you big lug!! I'll let you have your way this time. But don't come crying to me when she dumps us for a pair of more decisive superheroes!!" He'd shout.

In the end you appreciated the gifts you got for your birthday. Each gift speaks for their character.

You guys definitely have lazy days.

Days where you'll lounge around in pajamas and watch cheesy romantic comedies together, complete with a pile of blankets and snacks.

Expect there to be lots of laughter, cringing, and the occasional eye rolling. Not to forget how you three would start making fun of the characters and the cliche plotlines.

Logan clearly struggles to sit through the entire movie marathon and you always have the to be the one to pull his arm to prevent him from leaving.

"Gimme a break, bub. It’s the same damn thing every time— the good guy wins, the bad guy loses. It’s like they think we got the emotional range of a rock"

"Gee, what a buzz kill. But are they wrong though? You practically live like a rock!!" Wade laughed with Logan letting out a scowl.

Thank goodness you're dating them or else they'd be fighting almost all the time.

In the relationship you're the peacemaker

No but seriously Wade calls you that and the nickname has stuck to you.

You enjoy sleeping in the middle with the two on either sides. Half of the time you always wake up with the two fighting over you.

Just imagine Logan pulling you closer to him but before he could even do that, Wade would be quick to pull you back to his embrace despite them both being asleep.

You like to think it's their reflexes. That even when sleeping they're still fighting with each other 😭

However you absolutely adore the two.

Logan will MELT when you kiss his knuckles. Especially when you do it with your eyes locked to his. He will literally go feral for you.

And Wade? He absolutely loveloveloves it when you baby him. It's his guilty pleasure. Hold him close with his face placed against your chest and he swears the voices in his head finally quiets down. That's why you're his angel.

Also, the two really enjoy showering you with kisses. You can barely ever hold back a smile with the two smooching every surface of your face.

Will do anything to get your praise.

The competitiveness is too much.

Oh Logan got you a bouquet? Well Wade got you a bouquet made of tacos. Who's the better one now huh? 😋

To be fair Wade is Wade. There's nothing you can do about it... but that doesn't mean Logan is ever gonna let him get his way.

"Where's Wade?" You'd ask, watching Logan sink on the sofa beside you.

"Don't know... could care less..." He'd say, wrapping an arm around you to snuggle with you. In the other room Wade has been stuffed inside the closet. Completely restrained and duck taped.

All I can say is that dating them is all fun and love. Literal baby girls.

[mofongomuncher]

HER

(Ekko x reader)

❥ cast : ! Ekko, Jinx, reader ¡

Ekko slammed the door behind him so hard it rattled the frame, his breathing ragged.

"What the hell were you thinking Y/N?" he growled, his voice sharp enough to cut. He didn't even look at her at first, pacing back and forth, his fists clenching at his sides. "Do you have a death wish, or are you just stupid?"

Y/N flinched at his tone, but her own anger was already steaming beneath the surface. "Don't talk to me like that..." she snapped, straightening up.

"I just saved your life."

"Saved my life?" Ekko whirled on her. His dark brown skin glistened with sweat, the usual vibrance in his eyes replaced with irritation. "Do you even realize what you just did? You don't "save" someone by throwing yourself into a fight you don't even understand?! You could've gotten yourself killed!"

"I wasn't going to stand there and watch her kill you Ekko!" Y/N fired back, stepping toward him, her voice trembling now.

"What was I supposed to do? Let her put a bullet in your cranium?"

"I had it handled!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the small space.

"You stepping in didn't help—it made everything worse! You always think you're helping...but you're not! You're just another person I have to worry about, another liability!"

Y/N recoiled as if he'd slapped her, tears now already pooling in her eyes. "Liability?" she repeated, her voice low. "That's what I am to you hm? A liability?"

"Yeah..." he snapped, frustration thick in his tone. "You're reckless, you don't listen, and you have no idea what you're even doing. You think you can just walk into my life, into my fights, and just fix things?"

"Don't you dare talk to me like I don't understand! I've been by your side through everything! I've fought for you, bled for you, and this is what I get? You calling me a liability because I tried to save your ungrateful ass?"

Ekko froze for a moment, his shoulders stiffening. "You don't get it, okay?" he said, his voice quieter but no less sharp. "This isn't just some fight. It's—it's her."

The words hung in the air like a bomb waiting to explode. Y/N froze, her heart sinking. "Her?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Ekko turned away, his broad shoulders slumping as he ran a hand down his face. "Jinx..." he said, the name slipping out like a curse and a prayer all at the same time. "She's not just some random enemy Y/N. She's..." He stuttered.

"She's not who she used to be. And seeing her like that—it messes me up.."

Y/N stepped closer, her tone sharp with pain.

"What does that even mean Ekko? That you still care about her? That you still love her?"

Ekko's eyes widened, his breath hitching. He opened his mouth to respond, but the silence stretched painfully between them.

"That's it, isn't it?" Y/N said, her voice cracking as tears spilled down her cheeks. "You're still in love with her. That's why you don't want me stepping in. You're not afraid for me...no—you're afraid for her."

"Shut up..." Ekko said, his voice low and strained, his expression crumpling for just a second.

"No.." Y/N snapped, her anger laced with heartbreak. "I'm not going to shut up. You're still in love with her Ekko. Even after everything she's done, after what she did to the firelights?!"

"It's not that simple." his voice broke slightly. "You don't know what it's like Y/N." His voice dropped, trembling now. " I still want to save her."

Y/N let out a bitter laugh, her tears coming harder now, her vision blurring. "And what about me huh?" she asked, her voice quieter.

"What am I to you Ekko? Just someone to fill the void until she decides to randomly come back?"

He flinched at her words, guilt flashing across his face. "What—That's not what this is.." he said, his voice soft and desperate. "I didn't mean—"

"Didn't mean what?" she interrupted, her voice cracking. "Didn't mean it like that? Because you did, Ekko....You know you did."

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut.

It was true.

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out, but she backed away, shaking her head.

"I've given you everything." she whispered, her voice trembling. "And it's still not enough...It's never going to be enough, is it?"

Ekko's his voice softened. "Please, don't say that."

Y/N wiped at her eyes, her chest tight with the weight of his words. "I'm sorry Ekko. I tried. I really did try... but I just can't do this anymore."

She turned away, her body trembling as she made her way to the door.

Ekko's voice stopped her before she could leave.

"Y/N please!" he said softly. "I...I'm so sorry."

Y/N didn't look back. Her hand reached for the door handle, and stepping outside.

The door clicked shut, and Ekko was left standing there, staring at the place where she had stood just seconds ago. The weight of her absence settled heavily in the room. His fists clenched at his sides, his body still trembling as the reality of their argument hit him.

He let out a shaky breath, his tears threatening to fall once again. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. But no matter how much he wanted to fix things, he just couldn't do it, not for jinx, not for Y/N.

She was gone now, they both were.

And he couldn't do anything about it.

More stories will be added on Wattpad soon!!

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ʀᴏᴍᴇs ʀᴜʟᴇ

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Marcus Acacius x Wife!reader | WC : 10k | Proof read : NO | Navigation | Notifications | asks : OPEN | Under a False Alter

Summary: The deeper levels of both you and Marcus are revealed to one another

Warnings: DUB-CON (Forced/Arranged marriage), ANGSTY, gladiator battles, gore, blood, PTSD, scars, injury, corrupt people, exploitation

A/n: Hey everyone, the new part is finally posted! I've been really busy lately. For those who don't know, I'm a teaching assistant and I also coach cheer and dance at our school. I've been busy getting stuff done for that, so sorry for the wait. Please enjoy! P.S. Sorry, I didn't have time to proofread. (i combined your asks in my own way but sadly there no smut @theamunsonsworld?)

The last day of your honeymoon dawned with a soft, golden light that bathed the villa in gentle warmth. As you and Marcus made your way back to your father's villa in a horse-drawn carriage, the rhythmic clatter of the wheels on the cobblestones filled the silence. Marcus watched the passing scenery, his eyes distant and thoughtful.

Breaking the silence, Marcus turned to you, his brow furrowed. "You know," he began, his tone serious, "when your father brought up that ridiculous expectation over dinner, I had to stop myself from laughing."

You looked at him, surprised. "Laughing? Why?"

"Because," Marcus said, leaning back against the cushioned seat, "the idea that we could just decide to have a child on a whim as if it were that simple, is absurd. Your father lives in a world of his own making sometimes."

You let out a bitter laugh, the weight of the conversation settling in. "He’s always been like that—demanding, controlling. It’s as if he forgets I’m a person, not just a means to an end."

Marcus nodded, a sympathetic look in his eyes. "The expectations of Rome can be suffocating. But we can try to live differently, take our time, even find ways to see your mother."

A spark of hope flickered within you. "It sounds wonderful, but it feels like a distant dream."

Marcus shifted closer, his voice firm yet gentle. "It doesn’t have to be. We can make it a reality, bit by bit."

Your gaze fell, the words heavy on your tongue. "I’ve been rebellious my whole life, Marcus. But the truth is, as a woman, I have no choice. I’m trapped in these roles."

His hand found yours again, squeezing gently. "You’ve always had a fire in you. That spirit is what drew me to you."

A wave of emotions crashed over you, frustration mingling with gratitude. "Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it. Fighting, resisting, when it feels like nothing ever changes."

"You’ve already changed so much," Marcus reassured you. "And together, we can push further. We can find ways to see your mother. She deserves to know you’re thinking of her."

Your heart ached with longing, the image of your mother vivid in your mind. "I want that more than anything. To have her back in my life, even if only for a while."

Marcus smiled, his expression softening. "We’ll figure it out. Maybe we can travel under the guise of visiting trade routes or exploring new markets. There’s always a way."

You looked at him, a smile breaking through despite everything. "You always find the silver lining, don’t you?"

He chuckled, his eyes bright. "Someone has to. Besides, it’s easier with you by my side."

You felt a surge of gratitude for Marcus, for his understanding and support. "Thank you, Marcus. For everything."

He smiled softly, his eyes filled with warmth. "We're in this together. No matter what happens, we'll face it together."

As the silence settled between you, Marcus’s gaze turned contemplative. "Have you ever thought about having kids? I mean, not now, but in the future."

You blinked, slightly taken aback by the question. "Kids? I suppose I have, but not for a long time. I'm only eighteen, Marcus. There's so much I want to do first."

Marcus nodded, understanding but curious. "What do you want to do before that?"

You sighed, the weight of your dreams pressing against the confines of your reality. "I want to see the world, and experience things beyond the confines of my father's estate. I want to spend time with my mother, and really get to know her again. And... I want to build something with you, something that’s ours, without the shadow of my family's expectations hanging over us."

Marcus's curiosity was piqued. "An addition?"

You nodded, a determined look in your eyes. "I want us to live in the villa. The one where we honeymooned and where I spent my childhood. It holds so many memories, and it's the one place that feels like home to me."

Marcus's expression softened. "The villa? That place is beautiful. I can see why you'd want to make it our home."

"It's more than just beautiful," you explained. "It's where I felt happiest, where my mother and I had some of our best times before everything fell apart. It feels like a safe haven, and I want to create new, happy memories there with you."

He squeezed your hand, his eyes searching yours. "And you think having kids would interfere with that?"

"Not interfere, exactly," you clarified, trying to articulate your feelings. "It's just... I want to be ready. I want to be in a place where I feel secure and happy, where I know I can give them the love and stability they deserve. And right now, I'm not there yet. We’re not there yet."

Marcus tilted his head, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "So, you're saying you need more time to figure things out? Typical."

You narrowed your eyes at him, a playful glint in your gaze. "And what's that supposed to mean, exactly?"

He chuckled, his laugh a warm, familiar sound. "Just that you're always planning, always thinking ahead. Sometimes, I think you should just live in the moment a little more."

You huffed, a mock frown forming on your face. "Oh, and I suppose you're the expert on living in the moment?"

"Absolutely," he said with a grin, leaning back and folding his arms behind his head. "I am the very definition of spontaneous."

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a smile. "Right, because nothing says 'spontaneous' like planning out our every move on this journey."

"Hey, that was different," he defended, though his eyes twinkled with amusement. "I was being responsible, making sure we didn't end up stranded in the middle of nowhere."

You shook your head, laughing softly. "You know, sometimes I think you just like arguing with me."

He leaned forward, his expression turning serious but his eyes still warm. "Maybe I do. But only because I care about you. And I want to make sure we're on the same page about our future."

You softened, feeling the sincerity in his words. "I know, Marcus. And I appreciate it. I really do. We'll get there, together. But right now, I need to focus on the present, on getting my mother to the villa and figuring out our next steps."

Marcus nodded, his expression resolute. "Then that's what we'll do. Together."

The carriage came to a halt after the long journey. You were back at your father’s palace. The first person in your line of sight was Aurelia, standing tall and poised beside your father. Her presence always brought a mixture of emotions—resentment, bitterness, and a grudging respect for her unyielding confidence. Your father, ever the imposing figure, stood with his arms crossed, a stern expression on his face.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as Marcus helped you down from the carriage. His hand was a reassuring anchor in the sea of emotions swirling inside you. Your mind raced with thoughts—fear, anticipation, and a deep-seated dread. The memory of the villa, your mother's isolation, and your father's control weighed heavily on you. And now, the nagging worry that you might not be pregnant gnawed at your insides. You had to face them both with a facade of calm.

Marcus’s grip on your hand tightened slightly as you approached your father and Aurelia. He had always been your guide, your support, and now was no different. His presence gave you the strength to lift your chin and meet their gaze head-on.

“Welcome back,” your father said, his voice cold and detached. “I trust your journey was uneventful.”

“It was fine, Father,” you replied, forcing a polite smile. “Thank you for asking.”

Aurelia’s eyes glinted with a mixture of amusement and malice. “You look well,” she said, her tone dripping with false sweetness. “I’m sure the trip was good for you both.”

Before you could respond, your father turned his gaze to Marcus, his eyes narrowing. “Did you manage to fulfill your duties, Marcus? I trust you took full advantage of the... solitude?”

You felt Marcus stiffen beside you, his grip on your hand tightening. “Our trip was about more than just that, Sir,” Marcus replied evenly, though you could sense the tension in his voice.

Your father wasn’t satisfied. “More than that? Do you understand the gravity of your position, Marcus? My daughter’s primary responsibility is to produce an heir. Have you been diligent in your efforts, or have you been wasting time?”

Anger flared inside you, and you stepped forward, your voice sharp. “That’s quite inappropriate, Father. Our trip was about reconnecting and planning our future.”

Your father raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Your future is already decided. You are to produce an heir. Everything else is secondary.”

Marcus intervened, his voice calm and measured. “With all due respect, Sir, building a strong foundation for our future is essential for the well-being of our potential children. It ensures they are brought into a stable and loving environment, which, in the long term, benefits your legacy.”

You bristled at your father’s invasive question, but Marcus’s reasoning was sound. Your father’s eyes flickered with a hint of consideration before hardening again. “Your pretty words won’t change the facts. An heir is needed. Quickly.”

Aurelia’s laughter cut through the air, sharp and vindictive. “Now, now, let’s not get heated. We’re all family here, aren’t we?”

You shot her a glare, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, yes, family. How could I forget?”

Aurelia continued, her tone saccharine. “Your father only wants what’s best for you. We all do.”

Marcus stepped in, his voice calm but firm. “We understand the expectations, but we also need to live our lives the way we see fit. The stability and happiness of our family should come first.”

Your father’s eyes narrowed further. “You will do as you’re told. You owe it to this family.”

The tension in the air was palpable, and you felt your frustration boiling over. “I owe this family nothing. I’ve been controlled and manipulated my entire life. I won’t stand for it any longer.”

Aurelia stepped closer, her presence imposing. “Let’s not forget our manners, dear. We all have roles to play, and you must play yours.”

Your temper flared at her condescension, the years of resentment bubbling to the surface. “And what exactly is my role, Aurelia? To be paraded around like a prize, while you sit here on your high horse?”

Aurelia’s smile was icy. “Careful, sister. Your jealousy is showing. Not everyone is cut out for greatness.”

You took a step forward, hand twitching with the urge to slap her. “Jealousy? Of you? Don’t make me laugh.”

Before you could act on your impulse, Marcus gently but firmly grasped your arm, pulling you back. “Enough,” he said quietly, his voice a mix of warning and concern.

Aurelia’s smirk widened, sensing victory. “Always the temperamental one. It’s a wonder Marcus puts up with you.”

You were about to retort when a maid hurried into the courtyard, her face pale and anxious. “My lord, my lady,” she addressed your father and Aurelia, glancing nervously at you. “I have urgent news.”

Your father’s stern expression softened slightly. “Speak.”

The maid took a deep breath. “Lady Aurelia is with child.”

Aurelia’s triumphant smile was instantaneous, and she looked at you with smug satisfaction. “Looks like I’ll be fulfilling my role just fine.”

You felt as if the ground had dropped from beneath you. The news hit you hard, a mix of emotions swirling inside you—anger, hurt, and a deep-seated fear of being overshadowed.

Your father stepped forward, his gaze heavy with expectation. “I hope to hear the same from you soon,” he said, his tone a blend of command and disappointment. “But for now, I have work to do and a marriage to finalize with your mother. We’ll speak more of this later.”

Marcus tightened his grip on your arm, sensing your rising fury. “Let’s go,” he murmured, practically dragging you away before you could lash out further.

As you walked briskly away from the courtyard, you seethed. “How dare she? How dare he?” you muttered, your mind racing with thoughts of betrayal and injustice.

Marcus slowed his pace, his expression one of deep concern. “You can’t let them get to you like this.”

“How can I not?” you shot back, your voice trembling with emotion. “She always wins, always gets the praise, and now this? And Father... he doesn’t even see me.”

Marcus stopped, turning to face you fully. “I see you. I’ve always seen you. And I love you for who you are, not for any role you’re supposed to play.”

His words were meant to comfort, but the pain of your father’s disregard and Aurelia’s gloating was too fresh, too raw. “It’s not enough,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “I need to be more than just... tolerated.”

Arriving at your bedchamber, you muttered under your breath, “He wants to finalize the marriage with my mother. To bind us even more to his plans.”

Marcus closed the door behind you, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and determination. You stood there for a moment, the weight of everything crashing down on you, before the rage started to build. The anger that had been simmering all day erupted like a volcano.

“Gods, Marcus, I can’t take this anymore!” you screamed, your voice breaking with the force of your emotions. “Every single thing he does, every decision he makes, it’s all about control. He treats us like pawns, like we’re nothing more than pieces on his chessboard!”

Marcus watched you, his face stoic, but his eyes were full of understanding. He knew you needed to get it all out, to release the torrent of fury that had been building for so long.

You began to pace the room, your hands clenched into fists. “He wants nothing to do with my mother, and now he’s probably scheming to marry her off to some other noble. It’s like she’s just another tool to be used! And Aurelia—gods, I hate her. She’s always gloating, always scheming. She thinks she can replace my mother and secure her own power. And now, she’s pregnant before me. Pregnant! Not that I want to be pregnant, but she’s doing it just to spite me, just to rub it in my face!”

Your movements became more erratic, your pacing more frantic. “And my mother, what will happen to her? She’ll be left with nothing. Nothing! While Aurelia parades around, acting like she owns everything. She’s pregnant, Marcus, and everyone will fawn over her, praise her, while I’m just... just here. Expected to play a role, to be a good little pawn in his game.”

You stopped pacing abruptly, turning to Marcus with fire in your eyes. “And do you know what I want? I just want to be with you. I want to fuck my new husband without having to think about heirs and duties and all this... this bullshit! Is that so much to ask?”

Tears of pure rage welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You wiped them away furiously, refusing to let them fall. “I hate him, Marcus. I hate the way he makes me feel, the way he manipulates everything to suit his own needs. And I hate that I feel so powerless against him.”

Marcus stepped closer, his hands outstretched, but you waved him off, needing to continue venting. “And it’s not just him. It’s everything. The way Aurelia gloats, the way the servants look at me with pity, the endless expectations and demands. I can’t even breathe without feeling like I’m disappointing someone. It’s suffocating!”

Your voice broke as you continued, the tears finally spilling over. But they weren’t tears of sadness—they were tears of anger, of frustration, of sheer, unadulterated fury. “I’m so tired of feeling trapped, of feeling like I’m not good enough. I want to live my own life, make my own choices. I want to be free, Marcus. Is that too much to ask?”

You turned to him, your chest heaving with the effort of releasing all your pent-up anger. Marcus stepped forward and pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. You resisted at first, but then you let yourself sink into his embrace, the fury still burning inside you but tempered by his presence.

“I love you,” Marcus whispered, his voice steady and calm. “I love you for who you are, not for who you’re supposed to be. You’re not alone in this. We’ll find a way.”

His words were few, but they were like a balm to your raging soul. You clung to him, letting the tears flow freely now, your body shaking with the force of your emotions. “I just want to be free,” you whispered, your voice broken but determined.

Marcus held you tighter, his hand gently stroking your hair. “We will be,” he promised. “We’ll find a way to break free from all of this. Together.”

You cried into his shoulder, your tears soaking his shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just held you, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions. Slowly, the fury began to ebb, replaced by a weary resolve.

“We’ll get through this,” Marcus said softly, his voice full of conviction. “One step at a time. And we won’t let him win. Not now, not ever.”

You nodded against his shoulder, the fire inside you still burning but now directed towards a purpose. “We’ll fight,” you agreed, your voice steadying. “We’ll fight for our freedom, for our future. Together.”

Marcus pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands. “Together,” he echoed, his eyes full of love and determination.

You took a deep breath, feeling a new sense of resolve. The road ahead would be difficult, but you were ready to face it. With Marcus by your side, you knew you could overcome anything. And you would—no matter what it took.

As you pulled back from Marcus, your eyes met his, and you felt a flicker of hope. But then reality crashed back in. “But what if things don’t change, Marcus? What if life in Rome is just more of the same? More schemes, more manipulation?”

Marcus sighed his brow furrowing in thought. “Life in Rome will have its challenges, no doubt. The politics, the power plays—it won’t be easy. But we’ll navigate it together. We’ve faced worse before, and we’ve come out stronger.”

The truth of his words resonated with you, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. “I just wish we didn’t have to play these games. I want to live, Marcus. Really live.”

He nodded, his expression serious. “And we will. We’ll find moments of peace, places where we can be ourselves. Just like the beach. We’ll make our own freedom, carve out our own happiness. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside you. “I’m just so tired of fighting. Tired of always being on edge.”

Marcus pulled you close again, his embrace strong and reassuring. “I know. But you’re not alone in this fight. We’ll face it together, and we’ll find a way to create the life we want. No matter what it takes.”

You leaned into his embrace, feeling a mix of exhaustion and determination. The road ahead was uncertain, but with Marcus by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope. Together, you would face whatever challenges came your way, and together, you would find a way to break free from the chains that bound you.

“My lord, there’s—” the guard started, but you pulled away from Marcus, not wanting anyone to see you so vulnerable.

“What is it?” you snapped, your voice sharp.

The guard hesitated, clearly taken aback by your tone. “There’s a situation in the courtyard. Your father demands your presence immediately.”

You exchanged a worried glance with Marcus before standing. “Fine. Tell him we’re coming.”

As the guard left, you turned to Marcus, your earlier anger rekindling. “This never ends, does it? He won’t even let me have a moment of peace.”

Marcus squeezed your hand, his touch reassuring. “We’ll handle it. Together.”

As you walked with Marcus toward the courtyard, the weight of unspoken words hung between you. Your frustration bubbled up, manifesting in a sharp, sarcastic tone. “Another grand announcement from my dear father. How thrilling.”

Marcus squeezed your hand gently, trying to calm the storm inside you. “We’ll face it together.”

In the courtyard, your father stood at the center, flanked by Aurelia and a handful of stern-faced servants. His piercing gaze locked onto you and Marcus as you approached.

“Well, isn’t this just a picture-perfect family moment?” you said, your voice dripping with irony.

Your father’s expression hardened. “Enough. This is a matter of utmost importance.”

You sighed, preparing for yet another lecture, but your father’s voice turned icy and commanding. “We’ve received correspondence from the Emperor. He demands your and Marcus’s presence at the palace immediately.”

Marcus’s calm demeanor shattered as he took the letter from your father’s outstretched hand. His face paled as he read the contents.

“What does it say?” you asked, trying to peek over his shoulder. But Marcus remained silent, his eyes fixed on the letter, brows furrowed in concern.

Your father’s voice cut through the tense silence. “You are to leave at dawn. Be prepared.”

Marcus nodded stiffly. “We will.”

As you turned to leave, Aurelia’s mocking tone echoed behind you. “Do try not to disgrace the family.”

The knot in your stomach tightened with each step you took away from the courtyard. “Marcus, what’s in the letter?”

He didn’t respond, his silence only amplifying your anxiety. When you reached your chambers, he finally turned to face you, worry etched into his features.

“Marcus, what’s going on?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair. “The Emperor has summoned us. This isn’t a polite request; it’s a command. Refusing isn’t an option.”

Your heart raced as you processed his words. “But why? What does the Emperor want with us?”

Marcus’s expression darkened. “It’s about the gladiators. He wants my insights on the performance of the newest recruits.”

You blinked in disbelief. “Gladiators? Why does he care about your opinion on that?”

Marcus’s laugh was bitter, a sound you rarely heard from him. “Because I wasn’t always a general. I was once a gladiator. The Emperor thinks my perspective is valuable.”

Sarcasm bubbled up as you tried to cope with the mounting fear. “So we’re just part of his entertainment now? I know how gladiators work, Marcus.”

His eyes flashed with a sudden coldness, his voice slicing through your sarcasm. “No, you don’t. You’ve never been in the arena, fighting for your life. You’ve never faced that horror.”

You recoiled at the intensity of his response. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just...”

“Just what?” he snapped. “Think it’s easy? Think it’s something I want to revisit? The Emperor wants to parade my past, to judge others as I was judged. It’s a matter of life and death for those men.”

Your anger melted away, replaced by a creeping fear. “Marcus, I’m sorry. I didn’t understand.”

He cut you off, his voice low and fierce. “I want nothing to do with that life. But I’m not foolish enough to disobey the Emperor again.”

You stared at him, your own emotions swirling inside you. “So what do we do?”

Marcus was like a stone wall as he spoke, his voice steady and unyielding. “We go. We play their game. The upbringing you despise, the training that shaped me—it has to be on full display. Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla are not kind rulers. They won't hesitate to use anyone for their own gain.”

A bitter laugh escaped you. “You just saw me scream and yell. I’m not exactly the epitome of grace and strategy.”

Marcus’s expression softened for a moment, a hint of a smile touching his lips. “You’re more than you realize. But we need to be careful. They’re not just rulers; they’re predators. We have to show them strength, unity.”

You shook your head, the weight of it all pressing down on you. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, Marcus. I won’t let them drag you back into that life. I won’t let them take you away from me.”

He reached out, cupping your face in his hands. “I love you,” he said, his voice filled with fierce tenderness. “But we have to be smart about this. We need to present a united front, show them we’re not to be trifled with.”

You nodded, your resolve hardening. “Together, then. We face them together.”

Marcus pulled you into a tight embrace, his warmth grounding you amidst the turmoil. “We’ll get through this,” he whispered. “We have to.”

As you and Marcus entered the grand hall of the palace, the air was thick with tension. The towering pillars and opulent decorations did little to mask the underlying menace that seemed to permeate the room. Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla sat upon their thrones, their eyes narrowing as they took in the sight of Marcus and you approaching.

“Well, well, if it isn’t our esteemed gladiator,” Geta drawled, his voice dripping with condescension. “And his rebellious bride. How charming.”

Caracalla’s gaze was colder, more calculating. “It’s been some time, Marcus. I trust you’ve found civilized life to your liking?”

Marcus’s face remained impassive, but you could feel the tension in his body beside you. “I serve as I am commanded, Your Majesties.”

Geta smirked, his eyes flicking to you. “And your wife. How interesting that you chose to marry someone with such a... colorful history. Tell me, my dear, do you still harbor those rebellious thoughts?”

A chill ran down your spine at his words, and you forced yourself to remain calm. “I am loyal to my husband and to the throne,” you said, hoping your voice didn’t betray your fear.

Caracalla leaned forward, his gaze piercing. “We shall see. Loyalty is tested in the most unexpected ways.”

Your mind raced as you tried to gauge their intentions. The emperors had made Marcus a gladiator, using him for their entertainment and power. Now they were testing you both, probing for any signs of defiance. You knew this was more than a mere audience; it was a test of your loyalty and a way to ensure you posed no threat to their rule.

“I understand your concerns, Your Majesties,” Marcus said, his voice steady and controlled. “But I assure you, we have no intention of going against the throne.”

Geta chuckled the sound grating on your nerves. “Intentions can change. We simply want to make sure you remember where your loyalties lie.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a surge of fear. This was your chance to protect your mother, to ensure she wasn’t caught in the crossfire of political games. If you could gain the emperor’s favor, perhaps they would leave her alone. As the conversation continued, your mind churned with thoughts of her. She had always been a pawn in these power struggles, and you couldn’t bear the thought of her suffering because of your actions. You needed to be careful, to play their game and show them you were no threat.

But despite your efforts to remain composed, your nerves betrayed you. Your hands trembled slightly, and you felt a cold sweat break out on your forehead. You glanced at Marcus, hoping for some reassurance. His eyes met yours, and in that moment, you found an unspoken comfort. His presence was a steady anchor, grounding you amidst the storm of your emotions.

Marcus noticed your fear, and though he didn’t say anything, his hand subtly brushed against yours, a silent promise that he was there for you. His strength and unwavering support bolstered your resolve, giving you the courage to face the emperors.

Caracalla’s gaze shifted between you and Marcus, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “We shall see how well you fare under scrutiny. Your loyalty will be tested, both of you.”

Geta’s expression darkened. “Do not forget, Marcus, that we made you what you are. And we can unmake you just as easily.”

Marcus’s jaw tightened, but he remained composed. “I am aware.”

The emperors exchanged a satisfied glance, clearly enjoying their display of power. “You are dismissed,” Geta said, waving a hand dismissively. “Remember, we are always watching.”

As you and Marcus turned to leave, your heart pounded in your chest. The encounter had been a stark reminder of the precariousness of your situation. You were walking a tightrope, balancing your need to protect your family with the constant threat of imperial retribution.

Once you were outside the hall, you let out a shaky breath. Marcus pulled you into a quiet alcove, his hands gently cupping your face. But instead of finding solace in his touch, you saw the fear in his eyes, a deep-rooted terror that mirrored your own.

“Marcus,” you whispered, your voice trembling, “are you alright?”

He tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m fine,” he said, but the lie was thin, transparent.

You took his hand, feeling the tremor in his fingers. “No, you’re not. You’re scared.”

Marcus’s eyes darted away, his shoulders tensing. “I can’t go back to that life,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t be their pawn again.”

You felt a surge of protectiveness, the same anger that had fueled you the day before now burning on his behalf. “We won’t let them do that to you,” you said fiercely. “I won’t let them.”

His gaze snapped back to you, a mixture of fear and desperation in his eyes. “How can you be so sure? They’re the emperors. They can do whatever they want.”

You squeezed his hand, pulling him closer. “Because we’re stronger together. And we won’t let them break us.”

He took a shuddering breath, his eyes searching yours. “I don’t want to go back to that place,” he said, his voice breaking. “The things I did, the things I saw...”

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight. “You’re not alone, Marcus. I’m here with you.”

For a moment, he clung to you, his body shaking with the force of his emotions. Then, he pulled back, his eyes haunted. “Sometimes, it’s like I’m still there. Like I never left.”

You felt a pang of fear for him, a deep concern that he was showing signs of something you couldn’t quite understand but knew was serious. “We’ll get through this,” you said, your voice steady. “But right now, we need to get to our room. You need to rest.”

He nodded, his grip on your hand tightening. Together, you made your way back to your chambers, the weight of the day pressing down on you both. Once inside, you closed the door and guided him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Talk to me,” you urged gently. “Tell me what’s going on in your mind.”

Marcus’s eyes were distant, as if he was seeing something far away. “It’s like... like I can hear the crowds again. Feel the sand under my feet, the weight of the sword in my hand. The fear, the anger—it all comes rushing back.”

You knelt before him, taking his hands in yours. “You’re not there anymore. You’re here with me.”

He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “But I’m not, am I? I’m always going to be that gladiator to them. A tool to be used, a spectacle to be enjoyed.”

Your heart ached for him, for the pain he was reliving. “Marcus, look at me.”

His eyes met yours, and you saw the depth of his fear, the scars that ran deeper than you had realized.

“You’re not just a gladiator,” you said firmly. “You’re my husband. You’re a general, a leader, a man with a future. And we’re going to get through this together. We’re going to show them that they don’t control us.”

He took a deep breath, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he admitted. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

“You are,” you said, your voice unwavering. “And when you feel like you can’t go on, I’ll be here to hold you up. Just like you’ve always done for me.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “You’ll never have to find out,” you murmured. “We’re in this together, no matter what.”

Marcus held you for a few moments longer, then pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your shoulders. “Can we talk about something else?” he asked, his voice tinged with weariness. “I need to take my mind off all of this.”

You nodded, offering a small smile. “Of course. Actually, when I was in the carriage, I was brushing up on my Latin. Just in case the emperors decided to make things even more difficult by not speaking English.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “The carriage? I was wondering what you were saying to the driver.”

A laugh broke through his tense demeanor, the sound lifting some of the weight between you. “Latin, huh? How’s that going?”

You shrugged, feeling a bit more at ease. “Not too bad, actually. Although, I think I might have accidentally told the driver that his mother is a donkey.”

Marcus chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. ���Well, I’m sure he appreciated the compliment.”

You playfully swatted his arm. “Hey, I’m trying here! Besides, it’s not like I had much else to do.”

He shook his head, still smiling. “Come here,” he said, his voice softer now as he pulled you into his lap, guiding you to straddle him. His hands settled on your hips, and you could feel the warmth of his body through your clothes.

You relaxed against him, your arms looping around his neck. “I missed this,” you admitted, your fingers tracing gentle patterns on his skin. “Just being us.”

“Me too,” he murmured, his hands moving up your back in a soothing motion. “It feels like everything’s been so chaotic lately.”

You nodded, resting your forehead against his. “But we have each other, and that’s what matters.”

He smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Always.”

For a while, you sat there in comfortable silence, the tension from the day slowly melting away. You exchanged light-hearted banter, your bickering and teasing gradually returning to the easy rhythm you both cherished.

“Remember when we first met?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips.

Marcus’s eyes lit up with the memory. “How could I forget? You were trying to run away from our arranged marriage and fell off the horse you were riding.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I was so determined to escape. I didn’t even realize how dangerous it was.”

He chuckled softly. “You were fierce, that’s for sure. Maybe I should teach you how to ride properly.”

You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Are we still talking about horses?”

Marcus’s grin widened, his eyes darkening with playful intent. “Depends. Do you want a lesson?”

You leaned in, your breath mingling with his. “Only if you promise to be a very hands-on teacher.”

He kissed you back, his hands tightening on your hips. “Oh, I’ll make sure you get all the practice you need.”

You pulled back slightly, your expression turning more serious. “Marcus, can I ask you something?”

He nodded, his gaze steady. “Of course. Anything.”

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “What do you think about kids? How many would you want? And… do you have any names in mind?”

Marcus looked thoughtful, his brow furrowing slightly. “I’ve always wanted a big family,” he said slowly. “Maybe three or four kids. I think it would be nice for them to have siblings, to grow up with a sense of family and support.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. “I’d like that too. And names?”

He smiled, a distant look in his eyes. “I’ve always liked the name Alexander for a boy. And maybe Lucia for a girl. Strong names, with history and meaning.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of contentment. “I like those names. They feel… right.”

He hesitated for a moment, then looked at you with a mixture of concern and vulnerability. “Is there something else on your mind?”

You bit your lip, feeling a bit nervous. “Actually, yes. I was wondering… could you stop cumming inside of me every time we… you know, make love?”

Marcus blinked, clearly taken aback by your request. “Why? Is something wrong?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just… I want to make sure we’re both ready when we decide to have children. I don’t want to rush into it because of… well, an accident.”

He looked relieved, then thoughtful. “I understand. I just… I guess I hadn’t really thought about it that way.”

You smiled, cupping his face in your hands. “I love you, Marcus. And I want us to build our family together when we’re both ready.”

He nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You’re right. We should be deliberate about this. I promise, I’ll be more careful.”

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”

He kissed you back, his hands moving to cradle your face. “I love you. More than anything.”

You rested your forehead against his, feeling a deep sense of peace. “We’ll get through this, Marcus. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

He nodded, his eyes filled with love and determination. “Together.”

You sat in the coliseum, the roaring crowd around you a stark contrast to the turmoil within. The naval battle below was a spectacle of chaos and violence, the clash of cannons reverberating through the air, each blast sending shockwaves that you could feel in your chest. Ships collided with bone-jarring force, the sound of wood splintering and men shouting echoing through the vast arena.

The emperors insisted on your attention. Emperor Geta’s voice cut through the noise, a chilling command. “Watch closely, my dear. This is the true essence of power.”

You forced yourself to turn back to the spectacle. A cannonball ripped through the hull of a ship, sending debris and bodies flying. The water turned red with blood, the cries of the dying blending with the roar of the crowd. Your stomach twisted, and you clenched your hands in your lap, willing the nausea to pass.

You tried to focus on the details, finding yourself strangely drawn to the movements and strategies of the combatants. You rooted silently for the ship you wanted to see survive, your heart racing with each close call. The emperors watched you closely, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and amusement. They seemed to thrive on the chaos, their power evident in the way they manipulated those around them.

Emperor Caracalla leaned in, his voice dripping with malice. “Do you see how they struggle? Like ants in a flood, all their efforts meaningless. Yet, it's so entertaining.”

You nodded absently, your mind half-focused on the battle. The cruelty of the emperors was a constant presence, but you found yourself oddly captivated by the sheer spectacle of the naval engagement. Each cannon blast, each desperate maneuver, drew you in deeper.

Marcus was away, speaking with the other generals, his face drawn and pale when he returned. He immediately noticed your distress. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low and urgent.

You shook your head, unable to find the words. He took your hand, squeezing it gently, his own fear and worry evident in his eyes. “I hate this,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “But I can’t look away.”

Marcus’s eyes darkened with understanding. “That’s their power,” he said softly. “They make us complicit in their cruelty.”

Emperor Geta’s voice interrupted your exchange. “Ah, Marcus. Come, sit with us. Enjoy the show.”

Reluctantly, Marcus guided you to sit beside him, his grip on your hand tight. The emperors’ attention shifted back to the battle, their comments filled with a sickly admiration for the carnage. “Look at that,” Geta exclaimed as another ship went down, “such bravery wasted on a lost cause.”

Caracalla chuckled darkly. “Indeed. It’s fascinating how they cling to hope even in the face of certain death.”

Marcus’s jaw clenched, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and sadness. He leaned in closer to you. “They won’t talk about the true cost,” he said, his voice barely audible. “The lives lost, the families left behind. To them, it’s all just a game.”

You nodded, your hand tightening around his. The brutal display below was more than just a show; it was a reminder of the emperors' absolute power and the fragility of your position. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and the deafening roar of the crowd, a relentless assault on your senses. You could barely focus on the battles, your mind racing with fear and the need to stay strong for Marcus.

The next gladiators entered the arena, their expressions a mixture of determination and resignation. As they clashed, you tried to avoid looking at the bloodshed, but the emperors' voices cut through your resolve. "Watch carefully," Caracalla commanded, his tone devoid of empathy. "This is where men are forged."

Marcus’s hand trembled in yours, and you could feel his heart pounding as if it were your own. He kept his eyes on the fighters, but you could see the haunted look in his gaze, memories of his own time in the arena flooding back. His muscles were tense, every fiber of his being screaming to protect you, to fight against the fate they were trying to impose on you both.

With each brutal kill, the emperors’ excitement grew. They leaned forward, shouting encouragement and jeering at the combatants, their faces alight with sadistic pleasure. "Ah, there it is!" Geta exclaimed as a particularly gruesome decapitation took place. "Such skill, such beauty in the art of death."

You pressed closer to Marcus, trying to shield yourself from the horror unfolding below. "We have to find a way out," you whispered, your voice trembling. "We can’t let them do this to us."

Marcus nodded, his eyes never leaving the arena. "I know," he said, his voice strained. "But we have to be careful. They’re watching our every move."

The next fight began, even more savage than the last. You felt as if you were trapped in a nightmare, unable to escape the relentless violence. Marcus’s grip on your hand was the only thing keeping you grounded, a lifeline in the sea of blood and death.

The emperors’ voices grew louder, their laughter echoing around the coliseum. “You see, Marcus,” Geta said, turning to him with a predatory smile. “This is why we miss you. Your fights were always the highlight, full of glory and gore. These men… they lack your finesse.”

Marcus stiffened beside you, his grip on your hand tightening. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the barely controlled fear and anger simmering beneath the surface. His breath was shallow, his eyes darting nervously around the coliseum. The confident warrior you knew seemed to have vanished, replaced by a man haunted by his past.

Caracalla leaned in, his gaze fixed on the arena below where a mere boy, no older than twelve, was being led out. The tiger, a majestic and deadly creature, prowled on the other side, its eyes gleaming with hunger. “Tell us, Marcus,” Caracalla said with a sinister gleam in his eye, “who do you favor? The boy or the beast?”

A chill ran down your spine, and you found your voice. “This is madness,” you protested, your voice trembling. “He’s just a child!”

Geta’s gaze snapped to you, his eyes cold and unfeeling. “Silence,” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. “Marcus will speak for himself.”

Marcus’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking between the boy and the tiger. He looked like a man on the edge, torn between his desire to protect and his fear of the consequences. “Neither,” he said finally, his voice shaky. “This isn’t a fight. It’s a slaughter.”

Caracalla’s laughter was a harsh, grating sound. “Oh, but that’s the beauty of it, isn’t it? The unpredictability, the thrill of survival against impossible odds.”

You wanted to scream, to protest further, but the emperors’ power was absolute. You could only watch in horror as the scene below unfolded. The boy looked terrified, his small frame trembling as he faced the tiger. The crowd’s bloodthirsty roars grew louder, drowning out any semblance of reason.

“Perhaps,” Geta said, his smile never reaching his eyes, “Marcus should fight instead. Show us once again why he was the best.”

Marcus’s hand tightened around yours, the pressure almost painful. You felt his body tremble, each muscle tense with a mixture of fear and anger. His eyes were fixed on the boy and the tiger, a haunted look replacing the confidence you once knew. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, betraying the inner turmoil he was desperately trying to contain.

“No!” you exclaimed, unable to contain yourself. “He’s not your puppet. He’s not here for your entertainment.”

Caracalla’s eyes narrowed, his gaze locking onto you with a predatory intensity. “Such spirit,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Marcus, you are a lucky man.”

The words seemed to cut through Marcus like a blade. He turned to you, his eyes wide and wild. “Stop,” he hissed, his voice low and trembling with fear. “Just stop. You’re making it worse.”

You felt a pang of hurt at his harsh words, but you knew he was scared. You squeezed his hand, trying to offer comfort, but he pulled away, his gaze flicking nervously between you and the emperors.

“Perhaps,” Geta said, his smile never reaching his eyes, “Marcus should fight instead. Show us once again why he was the best.”

Marcus didn’t protest this time. He didn’t argue or try to reason with them. He simply stood there, his body rigid, his face pale. You could see the fear in his eyes, the memories of past battles and bloodshed that haunted him.

“Marcus, please,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Don’t do this.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and desperation. “I have no choice,” he said softly. “They leave me none.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "What exactly are the terms?" you asked, your voice firmer than you felt.

The emperors exchanged amused glances. Geta leaned forward, a predatory smile on his lips. "If Marcus wins, he may choose any residence owned by us as a treat for his newlywed wife. A generous offer, wouldn't you say?"

"And if he loses?" you pressed, your stomach twisting with dread.

Caracalla's smile was a twisted mockery of kindness. "If he loses, he will fight for all of Rome again. But this time, he will take the place of the boy who is supposed to fight the lion."

Your blood ran cold at the thought. "This is madness," you whispered, barely able to contain your horror. "You're talking about a man's life as if it's a game."

"Everything is a game, my dear," Geta replied, his tone dripping with condescension. "And Marcus knows the rules better than anyone."

Marcus stood there, his face pale, his body trembling with a mix of fear and determination. He looked at you, his eyes pleading. "I will do what I must," he said softly. "For us."

“No, Marcus, you can't,” you protested, your voice breaking. “There has to be another way.”

He shook his head, his expression pained. “I have no choice,” he repeated, the words a hollow echo of resignation.

Before you could say more, the emperors' guards stepped forward, their grips firm and unyielding as they held you back, you struggled against them, your desperation mounting. “Please, don’t do this,” you pleaded, your voice rising in panic. “He’s not your pawn!”

Geta's cold eyes locked onto you, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Such fire,” he mused, almost to himself. “But Marcus knows his duty.”

Caracalla laughed, the sound grating and malevolent. “Watch closely, my dear,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “You might learn something about true power.”

You felt the blood drain from your face as Marcus turned away, walking slowly toward the arena's entrance. The boy and the tiger were being led back into their cages, the boy’s terrified eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before he disappeared from view. Your heart ached for him, but it was Marcus who now faced the same deadly fate.

As the gates closed behind Marcus, you were left standing at the edge of the arena, your hands clenched into fists. The crowd’s roars grew louder, their bloodlust palpable. You sank into your seat, your body trembling with fear and helplessness.

Moments stretched into an eternity, each second marked by the deafening cheers of the spectators. Finally, Marcus emerged, clad in armor and wielding a sword. His face was a mask of determination, but you could see the fear in his eyes. He looked up at you, and you mouthed silently, “I believe in you.”

The gate opposite Marcus creaked open, and the tiger was released. It prowled forward, its muscles rippling under its striped fur, eyes locked onto Marcus with predatory intent. The crowd’s cheers reached a fever pitch, a cacophony of excitement and anticipation.

“Look at him,” Geta murmured to Caracalla, his voice barely audible over the din. “Still has that fire in him, even after all this time.”

Caracalla nodded a twisted smile on his lips. “It’s what makes him so entertaining. Let’s see if he still has the skill to match.”

You clung to your seat, your heart racing as you watched the tiger circle Marcus. Every fiber of your being was focused on him, silently willing him to survive. The arena seemed to shrink, the world narrowing to the deadly dance between man and beast.

Marcus moved with a cautious grace, his sword held steady. The tiger lunged, and he sidestepped, bringing his blade down in a swift arc. The tiger snarled, more angry than hurt, and the battle truly began.

Each clash was a test of Marcus’s skill and endurance. The tiger’s powerful swipes and lunges were met with precise parries and counterattacks. The crowd roared with every close call, their bloodthirsty excitement a constant backdrop to the deadly struggle.

Geta leaned closer to Caracalla, his eyes gleaming with interest. “He’s slower than he used to be,” he commented, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“But still formidable,” Caracalla replied, his gaze never leaving the arena. “Let’s see how long he can keep this up.”

Your eyes never left Marcus, every movement of his sword, every step he took etched into your mind. You saw the strain in his posture, the weariness beginning to show. But you also saw his determination, the fire that drove him to protect you and fight for your future.

The tiger lunged again, and Marcus sidestepped, thrusting his sword into the beast’s side. The tiger roared in pain, but it wasn’t enough to bring it down. Marcus circled, his breathing heavy, his eyes focused on the next move.

You bit your lip, your hands gripping the edge of your seat. “Come on, Marcus,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the crowd. “You can do this.”

The emperors’ eyes were fixed on the battle, their expressions a mix of amusement and anticipation. “He still has some fight in him,” Geta remarked, his tone almost admiring.

Caracalla smirked. “Let’s see if he can finish it.”

With a final, desperate lunge, Marcus brought his sword down with all his strength. The blade struck true, piercing the tiger’s heart. The beast collapsed with a final roar, its body twitching in its death throes.

The crowd erupted into cheers, their bloodlust satisfied. Marcus stood there, panting and covered in sweat, his eyes searching the crowd until they found yours. He nodded once, a silent promise that he would come back to you.

Geta clapped his hands, a smile of satisfaction on his face. “Well done, Marcus,” he said, his voice carrying over the noise of the crowd. “You have earned your reward.”

Marcus approached, his steps unsteady but his resolve unwavering. “We did it,” he said softly, his voice filled with relief and love. “We made it.”

As soon as he reached you, your emotions overwhelmed you, and tears began to fall. You couldn’t hold them back any longer. The fear, the violence, the constant threat—it all came pouring out. Marcus wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as sobs wracked your body. “It’s over,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm. “We’re safe now.”

You buried your face in his chest, feeling the warmth and strength of his embrace. For a moment, it was just the two of you, the world outside fading away. But the respite was short-lived. The emperors, ever impatient, approached with their questions.

“What residence do you desire, Marcus?” Geta asked, his tone dismissive of your pain. “You must choose.”

Marcus looked up, his eyes hardening with determination. “A residence close to the villa near Calacari,” he said firmly. “It’s secluded and secure.”

Caracalla nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Very well. It will be arranged. Now, go and clean yourself. The blood is rather unbecoming.”

Marcus turned back to you, his eyes filled with concern. “Let’s get out of here,” he said gently, guiding you towards the bathhouse.

The bathhouse was a haven of calm, the warm steam rising in gentle curls, a stark contrast to the brutal scene you had just left. Marcus began to strip off his bloodstained clothes, wincing with each movement. You stepped forward to help, your fingers trembling as you undid the clasps and buttons. As his shirt came off, you gasped at the sight of new scars marring his skin.

“Marcus…” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. “You’re hurt.”

He shook his head, trying to reassure you. “I’m alright. It looks worse than it is.”

You gently traced the lines of the scars, your touch soft and tender. “I hate seeing you like this,” you said, tears welling up again. “I wish I could take your pain away.”

Marcus smiled, a hint of his usual playful self returning. “You already do, just by being here with me.”

You helped him into the warm water, your movements careful and precise. As he sank into the bath, he let out a sigh of relief. You joined him, sitting beside him and gently washing away the blood and grime. The tension in his body gradually eased, though the pain was still evident in his eyes.

Despite the sadness, you couldn’t help but try to lighten the mood. “You know,” you said with a small smile, “I think I’m starting to enjoy taking care of you like this.”

Marcus chuckled softly, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. “I could get used to it,” he replied, his voice low and filled with warmth.

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Once we’re back in our own bed, I’ll take even better care of you,” you whispered, your tone both sweet and flirty.

His eyes darkened with desire, but as he tried to pull you closer, a sharp pain made him wince. “Maybe we should wait until I’m a bit more recovered,” he admitted, his voice strained.

You nodded, understanding and concern in your eyes. “Of course,” you said softly. “I just want you to be comfortable.”

Marcus smiled, his love for you shining through the pain. “We’ll have plenty of time for that,” he said, his hand gently caressing your arm. “Right now, let’s just be together.”

You sat in the bathhouse, the warm water soothing your tired bodies, the world outside momentarily forgotten. The future was uncertain, but as long as you had each other, you knew you could face anything. Marcus’s presence was your anchor, and together, you would find your way back to peace and happiness.

As you rested your head on his shoulder, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. The storm had passed, and now, it was time to heal and rebuild. With Marcus by your side, you knew that anything was possible.

After a long while of comfortable silence, you finally spoke, your voice soft but firm. “Marcus,” you began, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. “You can never, ever go silent on me like that again. Do you understand? The fear of not knowing what you were thinking, what you were feeling—it’s unbearable. If you ever do, you’ll have something far worse than a lion to face.”

He looked at you, his eyes wide with surprise, then slowly nodded. “I promise,” he said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. “I will never shut you out again.”

You leaned in, pressing your forehead against his. “Good,” you whispered. “Because we face everything together, remember?”

“Always,” he replied, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace.

The weekend from hell was over. Between Aurelia's pregnancy and the gladiators, you and Marcus were emotionally drained. But one question still lingered. "Why the emperor's residence near Calacari?" you asked as the carriage rolled along the uneven roads, taking you away from the horrors of the coliseum.

Marcus looked at you, his eyes softening with tenderness. "It’s not just for us," he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "It's for your mother."

You frowned, confusion knitting your brow. "My mother? Why would you care about where she lives?"

He took a deep breath, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently. "Remember when you told me about your father? How you feared he might leave your mother with nothing? I couldn’t bear the thought of her being alone, vulnerable. This villa isn't on the water but further inland, so it won’t worsen her fear of the sea. She can live there with or without him, and she can stay by us whenever she wants."

You blinked, absorbing his words. "You thought of all that?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Marcus nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yes. I want her to have a safe place, a sanctuary. Just like I want for us. Life under Rome's rule is too cruel, too unpredictable. We deserve a place where we can be happy, away from the chaos."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you fought to keep them from spilling over. Instead, you leaned in and kissed him passionately, pouring all your gratitude and love into that one kiss. When you pulled back, you whispered, "Never ever go silent on me like that again, Marcus. You scared me. You’ll have something worse than a lion on your hands if you do."

He chuckled softly, a genuine smile breaking through his weary expression. "I promise," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I won't go silent on you again."

The carriage hit a bump, jolting you both, and you clung to Marcus, who winced in pain. "Are you alright?" you asked, your concern immediate.

He nodded, though his face betrayed the discomfort he felt. "I’m fine," he said, but his voice cracked, revealing the truth. "I miss the days when our biggest worry was a petty argument or growing pains. Now, I can't even have my wife on my lap without feeling like my body is falling apart."

Your heart ached for him, and you placed a gentle hand on his cheek. "We'll get through this, Marcus. Together. We’ll find peace and happiness, away from Rome’s cruelty."

Marcus sighed, leaning into your touch. "I hope so. I dream of a life where we can wake up to the sound of birds, not the roar of the crowd. A place where we can raise our children without fear."

You smiled, the vision of that future giving you strength. "We’ll make it happen. We’ll build that life, one day at a time."

Marcus smiled back at you, his eyes twinkling with a glimmer of hope. "I believe you, but how soon are we talking?" he asked, a playful tone creeping into his voice. "I don't think I can stand another day in Rome's chaos."

You chuckled, feeling a bit lighter. "Patience, my love. We’ll get there. But first, we need to survive the next few months."

Marcus groaned dramatically. "Months? You're killing me. I was hoping for days, maybe weeks."

You playfully swatted his arm. "Oh, stop it. You know it’ll take time to arrange everything."

He grinned, leaning in closer. "I guess I'll just have to endure your company in the meantime."

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. "Endure, huh? Is that what we're calling it now?"

His expression softened, and he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "I wouldn't trade a moment of it, not for anything," he said softly. "Even if it means dealing with your father’s wrath when we get back."

You sighed, the reality of your situation creeping back in. "He’s not going to take the news well, is he?"

Marcus shook his head. "No, probably not. But we’ll face it together. Just like we’ve faced everything else."

You nodded, drawing strength from his unwavering support. "Together," you echoed, the word a promise as much as a reassurance.

[amymbona]

idk if this is gonna make sense but do yk the game twister? like with the colourful mat and you always end up tangled with each other?

so hear me out- you and art are playing together with patrick being the person that spins and tells you guys where to move.. but instead hes just trying to put you guys into sexual positions since he knows art has a fat crush on you😵‍💫

just ends in either you teasing art while playing or patrick getting you guys to fuck eventually (like making up his own rules - if you fall you take off a piece of clothing - etc.)

I RLLY HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE IM SORRY ITS KINDA LONG

FUUUUCK USER YOU'RE A GENIUS.

You're genuinely so into the game, and end up squatting with your arms crossed in front of you, while Art's face is like directly behind your ass. He can see the lace of your panties where your shirt rode up with the stretch of your back and he has to physically resist the urge to kiss the soft skin there.

Patrick, seeing it all, smirks and spins the wheel, but completely ignores whatever it lands on. "Right hand on green, Art."

"Oh, okay," Art gasps with almost child like innocence, searching for the right spot. And the only suitable one seems to be on the front of your own hand.

So he does the only possible thing, extending his right arm to place his palm on the green circle, completely enveloping you from the top. His chest presses into your back and you catch the tiniest hint of his boner pressing into your ass.

"Left foot on yellow, Y/N," Patrick commands, not even bothering to spin the wheel.

You try to do so, the top of your head bumping into Art's chin, and your back practically molds against his chest as you extend your left leg behind yourself. "Fuck, I'm gonna fall."

"Just hold it, Y/N, don't be a pussy," Patrick mutters with a roll of his eyes, loving the way you two are pressed together. "Ready for another round, Art?"

Eventually, the two of you end up tangled in a mess, limbs intertwined. At one point, your crotches rub together, like really really hard and Art thinks he might cum right there. Luckily for him, your legs give up under you and you fall straight on your bum, complaining about a lost game.

The boys know how much of a competitive girl you are, and evening something as simple as twisted is able to ignite the fire that burns on your heart. And the good friend Patrick is, he decides to give you another chance to prove yourself.

"How about a new rule, hm? If you fall, take something off," he offers, crossing one leg over the other were he's sitting. "We can continue until you're both naked."

He's an asshole, a proper fucking asshole. But Art makes sure to get on his knees and thank him next time when they're alone, because - fuck - the moment your bare boobs bounce in front of his face is like seeing a real angel descend from the sky. He's almost naked as well, just in his boxers now, his boner very much waving hello at you.

The positions you end in are even more awkward. At one point, Art end up on all fours, but in the other way, so his bum is just barely lifted off of the ground, with you hovering above him, legs spread on either side of his head. His cock is throbbing in his pants and his eyes are so wide at the sight of a wet pool of arousal soaking through the pink cotton of your panties.

"Art," Patrick hums, an amused expression on his face as he keeps studying the scene in front of him. "Mouth on pink."

Art's eyes snap towards his friend. "What?"

It's obvious what Patrick is referencing. And he's so fucking proud of himself for it. "You heard me, man."

"C'mon, Art," you almost whine impatiently, wiggling above him. Your full thighs jiggle and Art has a back time holding back a moan.

"Oh- okay," he swallows heavily, with a hesitant nod pressing his lips to the pink cotton of your panties. A breathy moan is heard above him, such a calm sound.

Art really can't help himself. He can't wait for any other instruction from his friend, he can't even hold himself back now that his face is smushed against your arousal. He licks a thick stripe and sucks in the sticky wetness that has soaked through the fabric, slowly losing himself in the sweet taste. Patrick chuckles at the eagerness and you do too, but with much less harshness. The sound is almost sweet, caressing Art's fluffy, fuzzy brain and encouraging him to keep going.

"Left foot on green."

Patrick announces and Art feels your thighs squeeze tighter around his head as you reposition yourself. His whole head is buried in your lap, the tip of his nose rubbing little circles over your clit as he breathes in the moisture. Little beads of sweat glisten on his pink cheeks, the feel of your plush skin against his ears making him feel like he's drowning. Like he can't breathe.

"Mhm, Art," you moan above him, grinding your pelvis down to meet him halfway. By now, his lips are fully latched onto your cunt, suctioning it into his mouth and sucking and sucking and sucking.

Locked in the awkward position, his hands and feet somehow remain within the colourful circles, and so do yours. It's almost admirable how you manage to stay unmoving, only the subtle grind of your hips and nodding friction of Art's head happening.

The smug bastard Patrick is, he's enjoying the whole thing, the sight something so beautiful and downright pornographic. He's almost tempted to whip out his phone and record the two of you, because he's sure there's not a single video like this on the hub. That could be a hit!

But he's not that much of a bitch. So all he does it palm his dick and dost it through his pants, the sight of his best friend's angel curls drowning between your plush thighs being just enough to get him hard.

[surielstea]

Give ‘em a show

Based on this request.

Pairing: High Lord!Eris x High Lady!Reader

Summary: The autumn court celebrates the equinox with a great rite of their own, what happens when the High Lord finds out Reader left the Forest House in search for him?

Warnings: Smut | minors dni | p in v | reader and Eris are both aroused by a higher power (?) | breeding kink | riding | public sex (on throne) | dirty talk | praise | cream pie | multi-orgasm

A/N: Sorry this took me forever, but I’m really happy with how it turned out so I hope you guys enjoy! 🧡🧡

6.2k words

It was the most festive day of the year in autumn, the equinox. When both night and day are perfectly divided and everything feels at peace. We called it Mabon. The peak of nature's abundance.

The holiday usually entailed freshly harvested crops and feasts to satisfy an entire continent. People gathered to the crop fields and pray, whether it be for good fortune or the wealth of the earth it didn't matter. They honored the soil beneath their feet as much as any other living thing. Similar to Calanmai in the spring there are bonfires in every direction, dancing surrounding the pits.

This was also the day high Fae reinforced the wards around their homes, seeing it as a new beginning.

Some prefer to stay at home and pray to the gods of fire, knelt by the flames that warmed them, having a simple meal of bread and grain. I, however, did not. During the day I'd plant fresh herbs and seeds, placing them in the richest of soils then saying a soft prayer until they began to grow. My harvesting powers have always been my favorite, being able to merely look at a seed and turn it into a blooming flower in the blink of an eye would forever be my favorite party trick.

During the night of Mabon however, I indulged myself in the finest of whiskeys and got drunk as all hel, claiming it was a tradition and a night of commemoration.

"All done?" Eris asked as I came back into the Forest House, my knees covered in dirt from kneeling in the gardens.

"All done." I gave him a small smile and he mirrored it while taking my wide-brimmed sun hat from my head.

"As cute as you look, you need to go change." He hands me the hat and I blink up at him confused. "Or have you forgotten your duties as High Lady?" He arched a manicured brow and I rolled my eyes.

My traditions would be different this year. It was Eris' first year as High Lord, meaning he'd have to put on a show to make sure everyone knew just how powerful he was. Whatever that meant. This also means my job was no longer getting drunk off my face but rather waiting alone in our bedroom where we'd consummate in order to release the power of the High Lord and grace the land with it, allowing harvests and crops to grow until the next Mabon.

"High Lady or not, I'd like to spend my night in a pub with my friends, not some stuffy room with your advisors." I scowl and a smirk tugs at his lips as I drape my hands around his neck.

"A lady of her people." He hums and my grin widens.

"Does that mean you'll let me have my holiday?" I bat my lashes at him.

"I can't," He sighs.

"Eris," I whine. "You're high lord now, fuck me in front of the rest of them for all I care just let me enjoy myself." I plead and he gives me a sorrowful gaze.

"It'll only be a few hours, you'll survive." He placed his hands on my waist and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"But what if you find some other girl on your way to me? I don't like the idea of you roaming this court half naked for just anyone to see, Eris," I dramatically fall into his chest, he tightens his hold on me as if I'm actually going to fall.

"Trust me, all I'll want is you," He guides me back upright so I can stand on my own. "Now go get dressed." His hold on me loosens and I give him the nastiest scowl I can muster.

"Fine, but only because I love you." I excuse as I place the floppy hat atop his head, I think the pink bow brought out his eyes.

"Love you too," He smiles sloppily as I leave his hold, the sun hat remaining on his head as I move away from him, his hand coming down to pat me on the ass, as if encouraging a faster rate, making me toss a glare back at him.

In between now and the beginning of Mabon's night festivities I passed the late afternoon stuck in a meeting room, which was as boring as I thought it was going to be. I spent the entire time drawing the high lord in front of me, making sure to match the glint in his golden eyes to his crown, pure regality as he sat in front of Advisors that used to be in his father's corner.

It's been past an hour, the sun reaching the horizon had told me so, I could already smell the scent of smoke from the bonfires and I knew my time was being wasted. "My lady, are you listening?" I snap to attention, clutching my sketchbook from beneath the table and looking at the male who had snapped his fingers at me, earning a low grumble from Eris as a warning.

"Yes," I answer on instinct.

"Really?" Eris leans forward, muscular forearms resting against the wooden table.

"Mhm." I nod with slightly tinged cheeks, I could never lie to Eris, something about the mating bond, or rather just him, in general, had me somehow giving myself away.

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you Fawn?" He narrows his gaze on me and it takes everything in my power to not give in, tell him that every word since greetings has gone in one ear and out the other. All this information was useless anyway, old rules that Beron followed. Not Eris. I don't understand why my mate entertained these old males.

"You know what?" A bright grin spreads over my features as I stand, my chair pushing back against the floor as everyone looks up at me.

"All of you may take an early holiday, enjoy the night, and spend time with your families." I dismiss and they blink up at me.

"Really?" One of them babbles.

"Yeah, really?" The high lord glared at me and my grin widened.

"Really." I nod.

"With all due respect, you're not one to be giving orders around here." The eldest of them scoffed and my smile faltered, I had never expected to hear that in my own court.

"She's your high lady and you will do as she says. Now go before I change my mind." He shoos the male away. Eris may not have liked me cutting the meeting short but he wasn't going to tolerate any discourtesy against me, it may have been wrong to use it to my advantage but all I wanted to do at the moment was curl up by the fire with a freshly poured glass of wine. Second best to getting hammered at the pubs like I would've been doing this time last year.

"You heard him, go." I make hands that send them away and they all scramble off, shuffling out the door with a haste I haven't seen in a while. I smile softly as the last male disappears.

"You are a cruel female." Eris leans back into his seat at the head of the table. I grab my sketchbook and walk down the long stretch of the meeting hall until I'm right beside him.

"Cruel? Or smart?" I tilt my head as I hoist myself up onto the table in front of him.

"Show me what you were drawing that entire time." He places a ringed finger on the top of my pencil and I flip to the page of his half-shaded figure, flipping around to show the male his unfinished portrait. A satisfied grin spreads over his lips as he sees that he is the subject, but he shouldn't be surprised because he is always the subject.

"Is this whole book me?" He flicks through the pages and I pull back before he can see all the drawings of him I sketched from memory on a particularly desperate night when he was gone on a mission.

"Don't be so full of yourself, I wasn't going to draw any of those old males." I roll my eyes and he chuckles. "Plus I was listening, I could draw you with my eyes closed," I confess and he raises a brow, his lopsided smirk making me feel warm inside. "Now can you please just get this celebration over with then come back to me?" I place the sketchbook beside me and look back at him.

"And what will you do while I'm gone?" He places his hands on my hips, a soft look in his eyes.

"Lots of drinking." I shrug, taking hold of his crown and making it crooked atop his head.

"You're quite the drunk." He grumbles and I chuckle.

"I'm a tavern keeper's daughter, what more do you expect?" I grin innocently and he shakes his head in disbelief.

"Alright, come with me," He slips his hand into mine and guides me out of the meeting room.

I intertwine our fingers, occasionally bumping into him, the comparison of his steady figure, walking with only solid steps and articulated movements contrasted to my bounding, my arm brushing his with every step. It was a silent kind of intimacy, our dynamic.

"This my cell for the night?" I ask as we stop in front of our bedroom, a grand suite that seems more like an apartment.

"Don't act like I'm locking you up," He sighs, crossing his arms.

"You're right, I could easily sneak out," I taunt and he narrows his eyes on me.

"I'm not going to put guards outside these doors, however, if I learn that you've left I will find you," He says, his tone shifting from playful to menacing all in one sentence. "And depending on where you are, I might just fuck you in front of all of them," His words sink to my core, it wasn't much of a warning if it was my idea to begin with.

"Don't threaten me with a good time," I smirk up at him, mirroring his.

"I'll be back for you, soon," He promises, free hand coming to my jaw, the other still preoccupied with mine. His thumb rubbed over my jaw, pressing with a pressure that told me he didn't want to see this room empty when he returned.

"I'll be waiting," I sigh, leaning into his hand. He frowns.

"I'm sorry Fawn, but I doubt I'll be able to control myself with you so near," He shifts back to his usual self, the compassionate one.

"I understand, it's okay," I mumble, even if this was the last place I wanted to be during the holidays. He leans down and presses a yearning kiss onto my lips, the kind full of promise of what was to come later tonight.

He pulls away with a reluctance I immediately recognized. Whatever power that was going to consume him tonight was already forming, I could feel it through the bond like someone on his side of the tether was sparking embers.

"Don't leave this room." He warned one last time and all I could do was nod and then watch him leave.

I had never wanted to leave a room more in my entire life.

Eris forgot to put his shields up on his side of the bond and it was driving me fucking mad. I could feel the power of him, flowing through the very floorboards beneath my feet. His arousal was immense, or perhaps it was mine— I wasn't sure. Maybe being High Lady had its own effects, maybe it made the mated female just as willing to consummate with the High Lord. The intense heat running up and down my spine reminded me of when Eris and I had accepted the mating bond, The Frenzy that took over both of us full throttle, I had managed that because he had been so near at the time, it had only lasted a few moments before he was touching where I needed him most but this, with him so far, gods this was unbearable.

I looked out the window like an animal eagerly waiting for their owner to return, but I couldn't see anything beyond the maple trees, only the smoke of the bonfires and all that promised with it.

I leaned my forehead against the cold window, it relieved me for only a split second before the heat of my body returned.

It started less than an hour ago, bloomed right at my core, and has only grown since. It would reach my head soon and I don't know what I'd do at that point. I had already put the fire in the hearth out but it felt as if I was the furnace and embers were still popping against my bare skin that mistook me for kindling.

I had practically stripped to my socks, but even my undergarments had been too much to bear. I wore a silk slip with a lace trim that was lighter than a feather and softer than anything I had ever felt before but on my burning skin, it felt like a winter coat.

If the window was cold then outside must've been colder, autumn air sweeping over the continent and beckoning at my very window, who was I to keep it out?

I pushed the window open with a grunt in agony, the sweet feeling of the light breeze kissing against my skin practically made me crumble in relief.

I latch the window all the way open and lean my head out the sill, the sound of music and cheering in the distance suddenly became so prominent but it was hard to hear anything over the blood rushing to my ears, dizziness consuming me as I grip the ledge of the window, something buried deep inside of me yearned for him in the direction of the music, and now that my head was out the window my body seemed to think I was teasing it, what it wanted so much closer now that the line to the outside world was crossed, the feeling so intense I thought I might start coughing up blood.

I grunt, attempting to talk myself through the pain, telling myself repeatedly that I've endured worse, that I was stronger this, that Eris would be back any moment now and— and oh gods, Eris. It was a mistake to let him cross my mind because all of a sudden he consumed every thought I could conjure, my mind in his hands and he was gripping it, not willing to let go.

I decided I didn't give a fuck if Eris was mad if I left the house, the pain I was enduring was horrific and the only way to relieve it was to disobey exactly what he ordered me to do. Don't leave this room. I slipped out the window with gasps of pain, landing on the soft grass. I was just grateful to be located on the first floor, close enough to the ground to jump from without shattering the bones in my legs.

Hounds rush up towards me before I can even take my first step.

They looked as if they were about to bark, to alert their owner that I had left the house but they saw my desperation, hel, they probably smelt it.

Rivin, the eldest of the shadow hounds rushed up to me first, staring up at me with a cock of his head, clearly concerned for my well-being. "Can you take me to Eris?" I murmur, praying the dog can understand me, I bring my hand to his snout and he chuffs, licks the palm of my hand then takes off running towards the sounds of the music.

I tried to stay as close as I could to the dog, he had taken the route through trees and behind stands, which I was grateful for since it kept me out of sight, however, it made it a lot easier to lose him amongst the trees. But he always came trotting back after a minute without him in my sights.

Eventually, the dog stopped in his tracks, his front paws prancing at the floor and communicating that he had finished his job. I creased my brows and looked around my surroundings but before I could talk to the dog again he ran off with the rest of his pack, back towards the house.

I had only just realized that whatever heat that was suffocating me in the Forest House had dissipated, still lingering below the surface but no longer unbearable.

I huffed, unsure what to do in the middle of the forest with a feeding wretchedness in the pit of my stomach.

I decided on heading towards where the largest plume of smoke was coming from, I had seen the set up of Mabon hundreds of times and knew this was the way to the throne, knew Eris must be sat upon it.

I hadn't explored Mabon much during previous years, I was always a barmaid for my father's pub, it had gotten crazy business during the week of Mabon so he needed any help he could get, funnily enough, that's how I met Eris.

I shake my head at the memory, thinking about Eris was almost painful, it felt like something was being carved out of me every moment I was without him.

I seethed a string of curses as I continued my trudge through the trees, staying in the shadows and avoiding the eyes of any drunk wanderers. I doubted they'd recognize me as their high lady anyway, Eris was the only one who ever saw me outside of my gowns and robes, this lacy slip was practically lingerie compared to the heavy dresses I often wore.

Lucky for me it had blended in with the other girls perfectly, in fact, I had seemed more covered up than most. Once I had made it out into the open area I spotted Eris immediately. On the throne, as expected, his legs spread wide and I wanted nothing more than to put myself between them.

He was shirtless, forest green paint smeared onto his body in tribal patterns of lines and dots, but he was glistening in sweat, drops running down the side of his face, through the grove of his abdomen. I didn’t want to think about who had the honor of putting that paint into those very groves, I only wanted to think about being the one to wash it off.

Heat pooled in my stomach as his eyes found mine from across the way, my body went rigid as he trekked his gaze down it, then so slowly back up, taking in every bare inch as well as every clothed part of me, like he was wondering just how perfect I looked underneath.

My knees shook as he lifted his hand and with two fingers waved me over. Waves of heat wash over me at every step I take closer, the power that radiated off of him left me defenseless, and the pain I had experienced earlier subsided entirely in favor of morphing into arousal.

Once I reach the dais I curtsy with a playful smile. "I thought I asked you to stay inside?" He purred, his voice rougher than usual, making my legs tremble.

"I missed you," I shrug, attempting to keep my composure but he opened his side of the bond entirely as soon as I was done speaking and my knees buckled. So, much, power.

It surged at my fingertips, blazed down my spine, and coiled in my abdomen. I couldn't imagine how Eris felt if I was only receiving an influence of it.

"C'mere," He lifts his hips, readjusting them in his ornate throne and I almost choke on my own tongue. He was going to push me over that dangerous edge and he didn't even need to say anything to do it.

I take the steps up the dais and I realize the silence in the crowd save for the music, people were watching, and couldn't keep their eyes off of the two of us. The offering between High Lord and Lady, the melding bond between us so clear on a night like this that any outsider could see that golden tether just as well as he or I could.

"On my lap, Fawn," He glances down to his thigh and I swallow thickly. "Oh, don't tell me you've become shy all of the sudden?" He smirks at the idea. I had told him I was willing to let him fuck me in front of all these people— still was, and yet sitting on his lap was the line to the path that I wasn't sure I could come back from.

My coaxing arousal won the battle and I took my final steps toward him, closing that distance, his hand came to the back of my thigh and I nearly melted at his touch, my body quivering in reaction because gods, if I had felt like a kindling fire earlier then he was a fucking inferno.

His fingers singed with flames but I felt none of the added heat as I took my place on his lap, straddling over his thigh and wrapping my arms around the nape of his neck, pulling him so close I wish I could've melted right into him, slotted myself into each of his grooves and stayed there, impossible to clean, impossible to get rid of.

My lips came to his neck without any forethought, I didn’t have control over my own mind, it was entirely consumed by him, his intoxicating scent of cinnamon, clove, and now an undertone of something different, something just as mouth-watering as the way his hands felt on my bare skin.

I fought the thoughts that told me to rip my dress off and decided to put my hands to better use and rub them down his chest, pressing my palm into his abdomen as I continued kissing his neck. I sucked and licked and nipped without caution, I didn't care if others were watching, he had never been more powerful than he was in this moment, both over others physically and over me mentally.

The domination running through his veins was attractive, so damned powerful and yet he knew how to control it, to conceal it beneath his skin rather than flaunt it, and he shared a fraction of it with me, a simple kernel of it was enough to send me spiraling.

"What are you doing? Dance," Eris spits at his subjects and they immediately do as he says, the music picking up in a crescendo of rushed notes to meet his demand.

I smiled against his shoulder at how much authority he held, my hips involuntarily winding over his thigh and I let out a soft, pleasurable sound. He grunts in return.

"If you keep making those sounds we're not going to make it back to our bedroom," He warns lowly beside my ear and I rut my hips again at the perfect sound.

"I don't know what's wrong— fuck," I'm cut off by my soft moan, his muscled thigh providing just the right amount of friction against my clit. "I don't know what's wrong with me, but I need you to fuck me now," I plead and I sense a sudden change in his demeanor.

"Now?" He hums and I can hear the smirk in his voice. Damned bastard. "In front of all these people?" He intones and I nod helplessly.

"However you want me, wherever, just— gods do it now," I beg, continuing to wind my hips over his thigh.

His foxlike smirk doesn't falter as his hands grip my hips, halting my needy movements only to guide me down onto his thigh himself, my core aching as he does so. I cry out at the feeling, it shouldn't have felt this good, it's never been this intense, even when our mating bond clicked I hadn't been so consumed by his fire that was so dangerously out of control and feeding into my own.

"I need you inside of me," I murmur, coming to the conclusion that this torment will not subside until he finds release inside of me, the mother herself was impelling us to consummate, to breed, and I was more than willing to oblige for her.

"Eris," I grip at his shoulder, paint smearing onto my hands, soiling my nightgown. But I didn't care, any piece of him spreading onto me felt like it was a gift from the gods, and I needed more. "Please, fill me," I beg into the warmth of his neck.

"You want me to come inside you? Want these people to watch while I give you an heir?" He taunts, his words ghosting against the shell of my ear. I reply with a pitiful whimper, unsure what to retort with because he was right. I didn't care who was watching, as long as they knew I was his and he was mine.

"Yes," I pant, my hand coming to the back of his neck. "That's exactly what I want," I plead, the rutting of my hips not slowing for a moment. "Show them I'm yours,"

My words seemed to push him over that fine line and he had obeyed. His rough hands grip my waist, pulling me over his hips so I was no longer straddling his thigh but rather angled just above his cock that was strained in his pants, the confinement so tight it almost seemed painful.

“Yeah?” He hummed and I nodded helplessly. “You want everyone to hear just how pretty your moans are when you’re sitting on my cock?” He asked and I whimpered, feeling powerless under his stare. Whatever heat that had been affecting me tonight had doubled over with his arousing words.

“I can’t be gentle with you right now,” He gritted through clenched teeth, the tip of his nose drawing a line up the side of my throat. “Can’t, control myself right now,” He murmured in warning and I smiled at the idea of having an effect on him as much as he did on me.

“I don’t want control,” I sigh against the side of his neck. “I need you now controlled or not, so please, Eris fuck me,” I begged and with one last kiss to my neck he obliged.

With an expert hand, he tore my underwear right from my hips, pulling the lace off like it was nothing. My heat was now left bare but it didn’t stop me from grinding down onto his bulge. I was staining his pants with my slick, dripping down onto him and he groaned as my wetness seeped through the material.

“Fuck, you’re drenched,” He admired and I nodded with purely innocent eyes, the kind that silently pleaded for him to fill me until he was satiated.

All I felt was hunger, and I could tell by the way flames alighted in his gaze that he felt it too.

Quickly, he removed his leathers and his cock springs up, smacking against my soaked folds, my pussy leaking over his length. The heat between us must’ve been record-breaking, I felt like a candle burning all too fast, making a mess of wax that he was too slow to clean.

The moment I felt his tip prod at my entrance my nails dug into his shoulder. I still didn’t know what it was that was wrong with me, I had never experienced an ache quite like this, the kind that only he could patch over.

“Please,” I cry, my cunt weeping as I crave for him to sink his length into me. “Show them how good you fuck me,” I mewl and perhaps it was the taboo factor of it all, how thrilling it was to have an audience while I rode him, but that had been his breaking point before he gripped the tops of my thighs and pushed me down onto his length.

My breath catches in my throat as I stretch around him, around every inch of him. He was so very large, and on any other night he’d need to fuck me with his fingers first, make sure I was ready for his member without the pain, but tonight we are both so needy that any foreplay was thrown out the window the moment I left our bedroom.

The pain was disguised as pleasure as he helped guide me lower onto him, it hadn’t been unbearable since I was slick with a natural lubricant, my arousal dripping down my thighs and onto his, as I took him deeper and deeper.

I swore he met places he’s never touched before, and fuck was it more than anything I had ever wanted.

This feeling was the god ecstasy prayed to, and I was blessed by it.

“That’s it, just like that, fuck yourself on my cock Fawn,” He encourages and I gasp out my moan, finally reaching his base, pressing against it with mine.

“Your court is watching, give ‘em a show for me,” He purrs, and so I do exactly that.

I begin to lift on his length, my knees buckling at the action but I ignore the pain and favor it for the pleasure as I drop down onto him, wielding gravity as my weapon. He lets out a low grunt and I do it again, continuing the action over and over again, bouncing on his cock just like he asked.

“Fuck, so good for me,” He praised, his eyes blazing with an untamable fire. “Such a good girl,” He sighs, his head craning back, leaning into his golden throne as his hands slip beneath my nightgown.

He didn’t take the dress off, because there were simply just some things he refused to let anyone else see, and though I was getting off on having an audience he wasn’t going to let everyone else get off on it too. He grips my hips tightly from beneath the slip, his callouses scraping against my soft skin, burning it with an unyielding pain, the kind that brings pleasure with it.

His cock seemed just as hot as I continued to fuck myself on it, the vein on the underside pulsing so feverishly I could feel it. The head of him pressed right into that sweet spot and it was a miracle I hadn’t come yet, gods he was going to send me over that edge any second now.

My lips connect with his, and he responds to the familiar feeling on instinct, his tongue slipping beneath my lips and tasting every fraction of me he can get his mouth on.

I moan onto his tongue every time he presses that deep spot inside of me, my noises only adding to the sound of skin slapping and the lewd sound of my pussy taking every inch of him. Our own music drowned out the symphony playing for the others.

“Eris, I can’t,” I pant against his lips. “I’m gonna come,” I warn and he smirks.

“So soon?” He taunts and I nod pitifully, continuing to rut my hips over his.

“Please, it hurts,” I whine, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. And it did hurt, it hurt to not be granted that release I craved so desperately.

“Go ahead, make a mess all over my lap,” He allows and I would’ve wept at the words if my orgasm hadn’t consumed me first.

It felt like pure fire, setting me aflame and impossible to control. It was the kind of climax that lingered for hours on end, the kind that left my legs jolting and my eyes struggling to open. I let out a loud moan, so loud that if the dancing fae hadn’t known what had been happening, they did now. “You did so well baby,” He hums as I slowly come down from my high but I don’t have the strength to lift off his cock, and I definitely didn’t have the willpower to continue my movements. My thighs were burning and I hadn’t noticed until my climax settled.

“You done?” He coos and I nod, but the tone of his voice tells me it is him who is nowhere near finished with me, his member still hard inside of me evidence of that.

He didn’t warn me before he winnowed us back to the Forest House, the same position except he was no longer sitting on the throne but rather our bed.

I whine, falling limp against his shoulder. “I can’t take anymore, Eris,” I sigh and he shakes his head.

“Oh, no baby you said you wanted an heir and I’m going to give one to you.” He flipped us over so I was splayed out on my back, sinking into the mattress with my legs hooked around him.

“Eris I’m not on a tonic— fuck,” I try but he felt so much deeper in this position.

“Does it feel like I care?” He sighs into my hair and I shake my head no. “That’s right, now be a good girl and stay true to your word,” He demanded and I swallowed thickly, nodding while he lifted one of my legs up to hook on his shoulder, spreading my legs wide as I clamped down onto him.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to fill this pretty pussy, squeezing me so tight,” He grunted and I lost all cohesive thoughts, strings of moans escaped me as he rolled his hips down onto mine, his full balls slapping against my folds as his pace quickened.

“More,” I plead.

“Yeah? You want me to fill you don’t you?” He says and I was quick to show my agreement by squeezing around him tighter. “You just can’t wait to have my babes, isn’t that right?” He grunted into the shell of my ear and I nodded with a hum of restless accord. “Your tits are gonna be so fucking swollen,” He sighs and I clench around him at his dirty words. “You like that?” He kisses up my neck.

“Mhm, want your seed in me, Eris,” I whine and he twitches, a sign he’s nearing his climax.

I was hungry for his warm release, ached for it to fill my every crevice, let it seep into my womb.

I met his thrusts with my own sudden desire, sending my hips down onto him while he drove his cock right into that spongy bundle of nerves.

“I’m close,” He grunts.

“Me too,” I whimper, my legs locking up as my orgasm races to meet me.

My hands go into his hair and I pull at his short locks as my second climax finds me and I’m squeezing around him tighter than ever before. My walls flutter around him, and my pussy twitched as he continues his fast pace. He groans at the intense convulsions around him and suddenly his release is spurring out into me, kissing my cervix as he does so, his seed shooting out on a straight path to my womb.

“Fuck,” He sighed while guiding my leg down from his shoulder, and with a few more languid, slow strokes of his cock he finishes, slipping from my heat and falling down onto the bed beside me, both of us out of breath and settling over the action we had just committed to.

I clench my thighs shut, keeping his warm seed nestled inside of me. “Good?” I ask and he flips onto his side, arm slinging over my sweat-slicked body, pulling me into him.

“So good.” He presses kisses to the top of my head and I flip around to face him, my eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“I think I like this High Lord stuff,” I say, my hand coming to his cheek and he chuckles, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.

“I think so too,” He whispered against my mouth, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Alright, let’s get you cleaned up,” He sat up, pulling me with him and I groaned. “You can sleep after, I promise, Fawn,” He said with a gentle tone that rivaled his earlier rough grunts.

“Eris please, just lay with me for a few more minutes,” I huff stubbornly and he shakes his head, hauling me from the bed and taking me to the connected bathroom.

“I’ll lay by you all night after I clean you up. Sound like a deal?” He says, settling me down onto the cold counter that sent shivers up my spine and I lazily nodded, looking up at him. He grins and leans closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“I love you,” He whispers and I match his smile.

“Love you too, Eris.” I look up at him with only honesty in my gaze. “Now hurry up, I’m tired,” I grumbled and he chuckled.

“Alright, alright.” He shakes his head in disbelief, wetting a cloth with warm water before beginning to clean me up, treating me with utter tenderness after he gave me the two best orgasms of my life. This male was going to be the death of me, and I was going to love every moment of it until that day.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @cauldronboilme27 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @ireallywannasleep127 @cumuluscranium @adharanotfound @azrielsmate3 @aelincaddel @hiddlestonspassionsackx @dee-writes-smut @secretlyhers @pit-and-the-pen @mybestfriendmademe @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @circe143 @bubybubsters @joshysloshy@username199945 @notsarareallynot @vixenshiftsvrs @mahealanipunea @pey2618 @loving-and-dreaming @andreperez11 @nerdy4itall @whatsupbi8 @one-big-fangirl

[ferrarifinnick]

Who do you think has the highest sex drive in THG?

ooo i love this anon. we're getting right into it. original series cast below but i could be convinced to do a tbosas version hehe. also colour coded for convenience. nsfw ahead. proceed with caution.

includes: gale, finnick, peeta, katniss

most to least: biggest sex drive, highest first and lowest last.

i think gale uses sex as an emotional outlet. he isn't a talker. he's a shouter, screamer, shake them till they listen kind of man, but he doesn't use talking as a way of resolving that raging fire burning within (and it burns more often than it isn't). for settling his anger—because we know gale's primary emotion is anger—he's predictably simple. animalistic in a way. when he's biting at the little things, shunning you with that big cold shoulder, it only means one thing. and that thing is between his thighs, furious but so in need of your attention, even if gale acts as if that's the last thing he wants from you. but when you settle on your knees under the dinner table, your whole body fitting between his long, thick legs, he only has to look down at your patient smile to set aside his pride and unzip his pants.

don't let finnick fool you. he might peacock and flaunt himself half naked to the world, but behind closed doors, when the prying eyes are shut out, he drops the façade. not entirely. he still likes the attention he can draw from you with just a little wink, a lick of his lips. but what he really likes, what really gets him is the no strings attached affection you bless him with. the gentle squeeze of his hand before you turn to your side to fall asleep, as if to say goodnight my love. brushing your finger over his cheek to catch a stray eyelash, then letting him blow it away to make a wish. these moments of recognition, of being seen as a soul, not just sex, are the moments that get him, and they happen at the most unexpected times. you think he's sexually spontaneous, but in truth he just can't control the impulse to express to you just how much he loves being seen as human.

peeta has an extraordinary sex drive. he is ready to go in the flashiest of flashes, no questions needed, but i put him here because–for the most part–he won't express this. he understands that expressing his desire constantly might send the wrong message, and the last thing he wants is to pressure you or make you think he only wants what's in your pants. that's not to say he doesn't make the first move, because he almost always does, but rather that he picks the right times to do it. when you're giving him signals that you want him, need him, he'll show you exactly how much he needs you, too. might even get you to touch the proof of his need. or lick it. or suck and fuck it.

katniss finds herself longing for emotional intimacy more than physical, and so i think she would easily go long spells without sex quite happily. there will be moments where she'll be consumed with such primal need for your skin on hers that she will wordlessly wrap you around her, hoping you'll catch on to her plea. and you do, because although katniss can provide and protect, she needs so desperately to be guided in sex. she needs to be taken care of, even if she can't bring herself to ask for it. moments like these are few and far between, but when they happen, they matter.

share your thoughts! like, comment, reblog. submit smutty requests. love <3

[jweekgoji]

Will you write for some Yandere!Orion Pax x reader? 👉👈

Yandere!Orion Pax/Reader [TFO/hcs]

tw: yandere themes, gn!cybertronian!reader, very brief mention of murder/death, mostly soft!yandere!Orion, overprotective, dependent behavior. word count: ~1000. a/n: i love making headcanons.

Orion is an obsessive, clingy and overprotective yandere that's for sure.

Orion is focused on you 24/7 in his mind, every time he's going out with someone else, he will constantly think of you. He's not having a fixation on you, like D-16 would with his darling, more like a thoughtful «I wonder if they will like it if I give it to them» or «if I COULD transform, I would be carrying them around everywhere!». His thoughts are mostly innocent, even though they often lead him to cause even more trouble. He will seek out a thousand risky stunts to do just to impress you, and he doesn't really care if Darkwing will beat him up because of it.

It is no secret that Orion is clingy. I already described it in other posts, and I will ramble about it again, but that silly guy does NOT know how to keep his servos to himself. Yandere Orion just can't comprehend the fact that you may not like it. You can find it weird, rude or just not tactile, and if he finds out, that's a pure torture. At first, he might find it funny and not take it seriously, you're probably in that «edgy, no nonsense and independent» phase some bots have, so he finds it his own personal goal to warm you up to him.

If you're somehow still adamant about it, I can see him trying to restrain himself from just squishing you against his frame the second he sees you in the same room with him. Cogless tiny Orion will be a sweetheart, so he always finds a way to satisfy his own needs without crossing the line. One day it's a simple touch on your shoulder, then he will try to hold your servo if lucky, and maaaaybe even give you a tiny peck on the cheek as soon as you look away from him. Touch is his love language!

Yandere cogged Orion/Optimus is a huge sweetheart but when he's tired and emotionally drained, the only thing he wants is to wrap his arms around you and hold you close to himself. Stay like that and don't say a word, it's not like you have a chance to escape.

Orion doesn't look like a person who thinks about his own safety. You will watch him running around Iacon from another trouble he got himself into, and he will even drag D-16 with him. Even though in his mind, it's for a better cause, If you're really close and dear to him, he also wants you to be the part of this adventure because he desires the better future for everyone and for both of you specifically. Together.

As Orion, still young, idealistic and naive bot, I never see him taking away your freedom. If you wish to tag along with him on the race, even though it's the most dangerous thing ever, especially with both of you not having any t-cogs...he will gladly accept it! As yandere Orion always cares about your well-being, but it's never the boring «I will lock you up just so you will always be safe» type of overprotectiveness. He neglects his own well-being to the point where he will gladly lose an arm or a leg if it means protecting you, and he doesn't care that he might die because of it.

You should constantly remind him to check Ratchet at least for once, but he will jokingly dismiss it since he's more concerned about that tiny dent on your frame. How did you get it? Do you need him helping you to polish? Orion already drags you to medic, meanwhile he is standing there holding broken metal pieces of his own body and like “that's just a scratch!”.

We all saw how Orion got protective over Elita once she was fired by Darkwing. His first thoughts are "yeah, I will NOT let that slide" even though he is two times smaller than their supervisor. Orion is a fighter for justice, for his darling he's a true gentleman, or...tries to be at least.

He's not that type of yandere who will murder someone if they hurt you, because his own beliefs are strong and unclouded. Yes, in the heat of battle, when it's either your life or the life of the enemy, he will never hesitate to end them, but even then he feels guilty about it (especially if we talk about young Orion/Optimus). If he actually ends up hurting someone, he will be devastated, and might as well take a long time to process it all.

How did it happen? How could he let this happen? He fights for freedom, for everyone, no matter if they're enemy or not, they all deserve at least a one chance for redemption. There will be a time when Orion blames himself for it, it corrupts his spark slowly, to the point where he thinks of himself as unworthy of you.

As much as Orion is an inspiring, he's self-conscious. The more not-so-happy events you go through together, the more he becomes dependent on you. You're a part of Orion's life, he can't shine brightly without his little satellite.

Yandere!Orion would constantly need you by his side. It doesn't matter where he is going, as long as he is with you. During his lowest moments, he wants you to reassure him and give him that comfort that will keep him at bay. He didn't mean to hurt anyone, but that worry and spark of rage blinded him, leaving his own servos dirty in the stranger's energon.

Young Orion is one of the softest yanderes to deal with. He still has to learn a lot about his own place in this world, his motivation, and his strength. Everything felt so easy when you were just two cogless bots, but the more time passes, the harder it is to deal with more complex feelings. Jealousy, disappointment, and regret. At the end of the day, you're the only person to keep him sane and not to collapse from the responsibilities on his shoulders. The problem is, it is too hard to get rid of that dependence.