#he might have not realized when he fell for her

[nativegirltapes]

when wag!reader tells basketballplayer!drew that she's going out, he wants to see her outfit, which quickly turns into more than just a quick showing . . . . .

warnings/notes: mutual masturbation kinda, phone sex, lots of teasing, drew being controlling ?, this is moreso the build up of it all, rather than the actual mutual masturbation (the build up is so much hotter imo ...) and kind of cut off at the end srryyy buuuuut hope you enjoy <3 ALSO i’m trying out something new, where i add tumblr links to show !readers’ outfit, pls lmk if you like <3

you told drew you were going out tonight, the first thing he said to that was ‘facetime me.’ via imessage. you thought maybe he outgrew his possessive phase of the relationship, but you were slowly learning that it was just a part of him. even though he told you to facetime him, he beat you to it. “jesus christ.” you mumbled to yourself before hitting ‘join call’.

“you’re still doing this?” you set your phone down on your vanity, taking a few steps back so drew could see your whole outfit, despite complaining you still complied. part of you grew hot and heavy over drew getting so possessive.

drew noticed the small things about your outfit. not the details a normal guy would; the intentional picking of your earrings or necklace, or how some nights you’d wear sluttier outfits if you and him argued a few days before. “what’s with the big jacket?” he questioned. “what? you don’t like it? you bought it for me.” you looked at yourself through the facetime call, possibly second guessing your fashion choices.

“no it’s cute. just wonderin’. spin.” drew demanded. the way he was staring so intently at the screen made you a little scared, like you might be getting in trouble for what he’s about to see. “what the fuck y/n. why is your whole ass out? jesus christ.” he snatched his phone from wherever it was stood up, you assumed he must have had his teammates around him. you rolled your eyes. “when is it not out?”

“yeah but it’s like really out today.” you watched drew get up from wherever he was sat. and wherever he went he closed the door behind him. “i’m in the bathroom.” he whispered. “okay?” you said confused, but also knowing exactly what direction this facetime was headed. “do a lil spin for me again.” drew smirked at the screen.

“are you fucking serious?” you held back a giggle. “cmonnn, don’t tease me.” drew pleaded with you. you gave in because he looked so fucking good. his basketball hat and mustache just calling your name through the screen.

you did as drew said, giving a him a lil spin, and even forcing your jean skirt up ever higher, which honestly didn’t seem possible given how high it already was. “fuck baby. you’re so fucking fine.” drew’s head fell back. you really didn’t know what you did to him, you had no idea actually, and he didn’t think that lightly. “what panties you wearin’?” drew touched over the growing bulge in his pants.

“the ones you bought me.” you said, referring to the black and pink thong he bought you just a week before. “lemme see baby.” god he was going fucking crazy. facetiming his girl in his teammates house about to jerk his shit to the mere look of you in your outfit? this might have been a new low for him.

you bent over for drew, giving your ass a little shake for him. you giggled to yourself before grabbing your phone off your vanity and running over to your bed and saying “okay my turn! bicep time!”

“really?” drew chuckled, he never understood why you liked his biceps so much, but nonetheless he flexed his arms for you in the bathroom mirror. you were lucky because today he was even willing to take off his shirt, you got to see it all; his big arms, his beefy shoulders, and his toned stomach. god, you wish you could just ride his stomach. but unfortunately you remembered you were literally on the phone. “you’re so fucking hot. wanna ride your stomach and grab your big arms.” you moaned out, not even realizing that your hand was on your clit, rubbing circles.

“yeah? what else baby?” drew groaned. you both got too lost in moment to realize you were talking each other through it … on the phone.

after you both came (in every sense of the word) to your senses, you both got kind of quiet. “okay well. bye.” you started reading for the red button. “change your out-” you cut drew off before he could finish.

[glamourscat]

FLOWERS? ISAGI YOICHI X READER

the bastard münchen vs pxg match HAS FINALLY ENDED. A lil (late Valentine’s) childhood bestie! x Isagi fic because I love him so much

Pathetic.

That’s how Isagi felt; truly and utterly pathetically in love.

It was foolish of him, really, falling for his childhood best friend. The one person who knew him better than anyone else, the one constant in his life. And yet, he had fallen anyway.

He had known you since before you could even string proper sentences together, back when the biggest problem in your tiny world was who got to play with the fluffy teddy bear. He had been there for every phase of your life, just as you had been for his.

The bad haircuts, the breakouts, the braces. The cringe stylistic choices that made you both groan whenever old pictures resurfaced. The triumphs and failures, the reckless dreams and harsh realities. Every best and worst moment you had been by each other’s side.

And because of that, maybe he should have realized sooner.

Your parents, his parents, had always teased. “You two will end up together eventually.” A statement so casual, so inevitable in their wise eyes. Maybe that was why he held back for so long. Maybe it was out of sheer defiance, or maybe it was the terrifying truth that you already saw him. Every flaw, every insecurity, every crack in his carefully built walls.

And yet, you still chose to stay.

To love someone who truly sees you, all of you, and still stays by your side? That scared the shit out of him.

But Blue Lock is over now. He felt like he had aged thirty years in that soccer prison, but it had been worth it. Because now, he was here. Walking freely through the streets with the weight of his dream in his hands. He was part of Japan’s World Cup team.

And you, his best friend, his everything, would be by his side, not just as his anchor but also as the team’s manager.

Isagi exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the selection of flowers before him.

He had faced some of the greatest strikers in the world. Outwitted geniuses on the field. Fought, struggled, won.

And yet, confessing to you on Valentine’s Day? Felt like the biggest challenge he had to yet face.

“Roses are too much, right?” he mumbled under his breath, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he stared at the bouquets like they were an opposing team’s defensive lineup. Puzzle pieces hardly connecting in his brain. “I mean… yeah, they literally scream romance, but isn’t that kind of obvious? Too predictable? Shit.”

The old lady behind the counter glanced at him, unimpressed. She had seen countless lovesick fools in this exact position before, hell, today alone and Isagi fell right into that category.

Tulips? Too plain. Sunflowers? You might think he was calling you bright and cheerful, which—yeah, fair, but what if you took it as a joke? Lilies? What do lilies even mean?!

“You need help?” the florist finally asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” he admitted immediately. “I mean—yes? No. I’m just trying to figure out what flowers match a card that I, uh, may or may not have rewritten six times… as a valentines gift. Which turned out fine! I think. Maybe. Hopefully.”

The florist hummed, giving him a long, knowing look before glancing at the selection in front of her. “Alright, what kind of message are we going for here? Romantic? Sweet? ‘I’ve been in love with you since childhood and only just realized it because I’m a dumbass’?”

Isagi choked. “Why would you say it like that?!”

She gave him the flattest stare of his life. “Because that’s exactly what’s happening.”

He groaned, running a hand down his face. “Okay, yeah, fair point.”

The florist smirked before plucking a bouquet from the display. “Here. Go with these. A mix of daisies, lavender and forget-me-nots. It says you care, but you’re not coming on too strong. Subtle romance, but meaningful. Perfect for an idiot in denial.”

He took the bouquet, staring at it like it held the secrets of the universe. “Huh. Yeah. This… this actually works. How did you—”

“Experience, kid. Now go before you start overthinking again.”

Isagi nodded, clutching the flowers like they were the winning ball in a match. Alright. Flowers? Check. Card? Done—well, kind of. Cake? As good as it was gonna get.

Now, he just had to actually go back home and give them to you.

…Oh, shit.

This was really happening.

This might actually kill him.

He is pretty sure his heart is beating faster than the last goal he scored while playing for bastard münchen. He feels like throwing up. Was this normal? Probably not. But despite everything he wants you to know. He needs you to know that at the end of the day, pathetic or not, Isagi Yoichi is in love with you. And it was damn time he did something about it.

But for his luck, as he walked out of the flower shop, he almost crashed into someone.

“I am so—“ before he could even get the words out his soul almost came out of his body.

YOU. Out of everyone, you. In front of him. With a bouquet of flowers too. Wait, FLOWERS? Who— you…. Did— who gave you those?

“Yoichi” you say, words coming out slightly higher pitched than intended, trying to act normal, but you’re pretty sure the panicked expression you were trying to fight off with a smile came off more as you were constipated, more than anything else.

“Y/n” he says, seemingly unaware of your mental state, thankfully? Or maybe you should be worried that he was so oblivious to it.

“ Are you g—“

“Who— gave you those?” He said so quickly, not even allowing you to finish your sentence.

Your eyes fall to the flowers in your arms, if your cheeks weren’t red before, you’re pretty sure they are now.

“Who gave you those?” you say, nodding to the flowers he had in his arms. Trying to change the subject.

“I asked first.”

“I asked second”

A moment of silence before you two burst out laughing from the strange moment.

“Alright— alright. On the count of three? Together?” You says amused

One. Two. Three.

“I got them from you” you two say in unison.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

That’s what his brain was screaming. He probably looked like an absolute moron, standing there with a confused expression and jaw open as he looked at you. Huh? Him? YOU GOT FLOWERS FOR HIM— AKCKEPWLCNGIVVIFNRNWPW.

“You— eh?”

That was it. That was all his brain could come up with. World-class striker, future ace of Japan, but the second you said you got flowers for him? Immediate system failure.

You smiled, shy but warm, the edges of your expression softening in that way that was playful yet so beautiful. It made his heart feel like it was about to spontaneously combust. “Yeah, you—is that so weird?”

Yes. No. Maybe. His brain was still rebooting.

“You—you got me flowers?” he repeated, as if the words might make more sense if he said them out loud.

“I mean, yeah,” you said, shifting your weight from foot to foot. The bouquet in your arms crinkled as you fidgeted with the wrapping. “It’s Valentine’s Day, isn’t it? I figured i had to be clear because you’re so dense sometimes.”

“I’m not dense!” he argued immediately.

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Okay, fine. Maybe a little dense,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, drowning out the rest of the world. “But—wait, why did you…?”

The words hung heavy in the air. Why did you get me flowers?

You took a shaky breath. “Because I like you, idiot.”

“I—wait—what?” He blinked, gripping his bouquet tighter like it might hold him upright. “Like… like-like?”

“Damn… and you say you aren’t dense” a small snort left your lips. “Yes, like-like!” you huffed, but your voice trembled a little. “I’ve… kinda liked you for a while. And I figured—if I didn’t say anything today, I’d probably chicken out forever and cry myself to sleep for the next month. Maybe two.”

“You like me,” he repeated dumbly, trying to wrap his head around it.

You tilted your head, exasperated. “Yoichi, please tell me those flowers are for me or am I about to die of embarrassment right now?”

“What? NO—I mean, yes! Yes, I like you too!” The words practically exploded out of him, way louder than he meant to. “I’ve liked you since—God, I don’t even know when. Probably since that stupid teddy bear fight when we were kids.. And—” Lord, he is rambling now. “And I have made you a card. A beautiful one, I think you will like it. And a cake. Though I burnt it the first time. Maybe the second time too. But, fuck yes, I like you too”

For a second, neither of you said anything. You just stood there, two idiots clutching flowers, blushing like middle schoolers with their first crushes.

Finally, you exhaled, shaking your head as you tried not to laugh. “Wow. We’re really bad at this.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, grinning so wide his cheeks hurt. “But, like… at least we’re bad at it together?”

You rolled your eyes, but the teasing smile tugging at your lips was impossible to hide. “Together, huh?”

“I mean… if you want that. If you want me.” He said, trying not to look more giddy than he already is.

“I wouldn’t be standing here holding flowers and trying to not burst into flames after a confession that I definitely did not rehearse in my head twenty times for you if I didn’t, genius.”

In a rush of courage, Isagi moved closer and wrapped his arms around you, bouquets squished in between your guys’ chests. You smelled like warmth and home.

“Can I—uh,” he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, “can I kiss you?”

“Yoichi, if you don’t kiss me after all that, I’ll start overthinking and we know—.”

He doesn’t need anything else. His smile shushed you, as his lips finally met yours in a kiss that was a bit messy, yet soft and sweet. You tasted like that tea you like so much. A mix of honey, flowers and sugar that makes him greedy for more. Despite being in the middle of the sidewalk and in retrospect, he will for sure be embarrassed about the pda later.

But that’s a problem for later. Because the realisation that fuck yes, he is finally kissing you, settles in. And for the first time that day, but perhaps in his entire life, his brain went completely and blissfully quiet.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[imagineweasley]

Steal My Girl

Draco x fem reader

summary: combining my two loves, one direction and harry potter!! a fun cute flirty angsty imagine with draco and y/n using the lyrics of "steal my girl."

y/n: your name

y/h: your house

y/c: your color

submit a request!

She been my queen since we were sixteen We want the same things, we dream the same dreams Alright, alright

As cocky as Draco was, he had never expected he'd be able to get someone like you. From the moment he laid eyes on you during the first train ride to Hogwarts, he knew that he was done for. Whenever Draco would tell this story to anyone, he said that it might sound crazy that an eleven year old would know, but he doesn't care because he knew it was you, from the moment he saw you.

Over the next five years, you and Draco get close, basically joined at the hip, but he can't work up the courage to tell you. Mostly because he knew that what would come out of his mouth would be terrifying, because if he told you how he truly felt about you, he wouldn't be able to hold back. The words would spill out, how he fell in love with you when you first met on the train, how every time anything funny happened, he would wish you were there and then would tuck it into his mind to make you laugh later, how he would tell you and revel in your laughter, your gorgeous laugh. How every morning he woke up thinking of you, every daydream contained you, and every night, he fell asleep with a smile on his face, thinking about you. How he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, and you two were only 16 years old. Because how crazy would that sound?

So instead of telling you, he soaks you in as your best friend. The rest of Hogwarts thanks for you this as well, because when Draco's being an asshole, there's no one who's going to shut it down faster than you, and he only listens to you. You study together, you go flying together, him giving you his Nimbus 2001 and using a borrowed Hogwarts broom so you can have the best of the best. You go on walks together when it's nice out, hole up in the common room with blankets and snacks when it's not, and nurse each other back to health when the British rain inevitably brings on the sniffles. You talk to each other about your fondest memories, your greatest fears, and life's greatest joys

It's not long until for both you, your fondest memories have become ones made together, your greatest fears have become losing each other, and your lives' greatest joys have become sharing it with each other.

Only, here's the thing. Feelings that big can never stay contained for long. One mundane day, you two are sitting in the courtyard in the spring sun, doing homework. Only he wasn't doing homework. He was watching you: the way you bite your lip when you're focusing, the way your eyebrows scrunch because you have pretty bad eyesight and sometimes after long bouts of writing, the words blur on the page. It was nice out today, but to him, today's weather felt no different than yesterday's downpour because to him, you were the sun, and as long as you were with him, everything was bright and warm.

On that day in the courtyard, the words slip out of his mouth.

"When we start our family together-"

Draco realizes a second too late what he said. It was almost like his imagination and reality had blurred together, and he's exposed himself. You look at him with some shock on your face, and he could be imagining it, but there is a knowing look in your eyes. You tell him later that this was because you had known too, that you and him were bound together, your souls were tied, and there would be a day when there would be little yous and hims running around.

So on this fateful day, you share a moment of shock, a moment of silence, and a moment when both of your walls crumble and you tackle him with a kiss, one that is six years overdue.

I got it all 'cause she is the one Her mum calls me "Love," her dad calls me "Son" Alright, alright

When you finally meet Narcissa and Lucius, you are terrified because you know how strict they are, how haughty they can be, and how strong their hatred is of anyone who is not a part of their circle.

The first meeting goes surprisingly well. You and Draco stand outside the huge doors of Malfoy Mansion, him holding your hand and running his thumb over your knuckles. He can sense your nerves, but he is calm because he knows that at the end of the day, it does not matter whether he receives approval from his parents.

He says this to you in hopes that you'll feel less like puking all over the steps. "My love, you know that no matter how this goes, it will change nothing. I love nothing more than I love you. There's no way they-" he jerks his head towards the door, "-are changing anything between us." He gives you a soft smile, and you are able to relax your shoulders and steady your breath. You smile back at him and walk in, hand-in-hand. Throughout the night, he never lets go of your hand, he doesn't even go to the bathroom even though he is bursting to go after his third glass of red wine.

At the end of the dinner, it seems you have managed to win over his parents as much as anyone can win them over. You've earned laughs from Narcissa, engaged Lucius in conversation about Quidditch, and when you and Draco rise from the table, an invitation to dinner next weekend.

Draco can't even wait one second after the door closes to grab your face and kiss you.

Everybody wanna steal my girl Everybody wanna take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one 'cause she belongs to me

Of course, when news had broken about you two finally getting together, the overwhelming majority had not been surprised. Whispers circulate about the Prince of Slytherin and the Princess of y/h, the new power couple of Hogwarts. There's one night before your relationship is public knowledge where you and Draco are sitting in the common room with Draco's Slytherin crew and Draco mindlessly places his hand on your thigh. Crabbe and Goyle, as thick as they are, immediately notice. Goyle immediately groans and throws his head back as Crabbe cheers, and you and Draco gape in confusion. You stare as Goyle stomps up to his room and returns with a fistful of galleons, which he shoves into Crabbe, who is still prancing around the common room.

"I told you, I told you, I told you!" Crabbe chants while he sticks his tongue out at Goyle. Turns out, they had made a bet on when you two would finally get together, and it's clear who the winner is.

Whenever Draco drops you off at your classes and plants kisses on your nose before saying goodbye, everyone in the class notices. Half the guys and the girls in the room are groaning inside at having missed their chance to ask you on a study date so they can show off how smart they are and win you over, spend a day with them at Hogsmeade, or take you on a romantic walk by the lake. They're annoyed that they didn't ask you out before Draco captured your heart, but what they don't know is that there had never been a chance for them anyway, because your heart had belonged to Draco from the first moment he had made a cocky remark to you and you'd rolled your eyes, amused. Your fate had been sealed from that first smile he gave you afterwards.

Kisses like cream, her walk is so mean And every jaw drops when she's in those jeans Alright, alright

Draco's favorite part of the day was whenever he'd pick you up for breakfast. You'd prance over to him to give him a little peck, and most days, he wasn't satiated by just one. He'd pull you to him for another, and of course, you'd wrap your arms around his neck and give him a sweet, long, good-morning kiss before walking hand-in-hand to the Great Hall.

He also never missed anything, especially when it came to the looks you would get in the halls. Somehow, you made walking down the hall a fashion show; the uniform sat on your curves perfectly, and even though everyone wore the same thing, you just looked different. Even on days where you got zero sleep and couldn't be bothered to do anything more than throw your hair up in something that resembled a bun, you still attracted stares. Maybe it was just your captivating aura.

Whatever it was, he felt a surge of pride whenever he caught the stares. He couldn't even feel jealous, because who wouldn't be staring at his girl? Of course your beauty, your personality, your laugh, your brains, and your witty humor would have people falling over their feet left and right. He knew from the start the price he had to pay for being with someone like you, and he'd pay that price a million times over just to be able to keep calling you his.

I don't exist if I don't have her The sun doesn't shine, the world doesn't turn Alright, alright

As much as his parents have come to adore you and care for you like their daughter, you know what they are, and you know what they made him do. You haven't seen them in a while, since the news broke about the Death Eaters. The night they burned the mark onto his skin, he showed up at your door at 4 a.m., sobbing as quietly as he could. You sit with him all night while he lays crumpled in your arms. There's nothing to say to fix the devastation. Everyone else at Hogwarts sees him as evil, but you know better. He's whispered to you in the dead of night how terrified he is of his parents and of the Death Eaters and what You-Know-Who could do to him if he showed any semblance of betraying him, and most of all, how terrified he is of losing you.

One day, he decides to do the unthinkable and breaks up with you. He's been thinking it over for a long time. At first, he thought about what if you two pretend to break up and continue to date in secret, but Draco is so scared. You-Know-Who has his ways of finding out absolutely everything and he cannot risk you even for a second. You are just a weapon to use against Draco. A pawn in You-Know-Who's game.

In between sobs, Draco clutches your hand and explains this to you, promises that when this is all over and it's safe again, you two will be together again. At first, you argue. You say that you're not scared of that white-faced snake-man, you don't want to hide! You only back down when you see what this is doing to Draco. You see that he is right, this is the only way you two could have a sliver of a chance at a future.

This is the most devastating blow your poor heart has endured, and you've endured a lot. Everyone is stunned when they stop seeing you two together, when they see your red puffy eyes and the dark circles under his.

Fast-forward. Preparations are being made for the battle, and you're taking a moment to sit on the ground against the wall of the hidden classroom you and Draco would go to whenever you needed.... privacy. The younger students had been evacuated, but you were one of the ones who refused to leave, and you were composing yourself before they came.

You hear quiet footsteps entering the classroom and jump up, wand pointed. As soon as you register who it is, you go weak in the knees.

The blonde-headed boy is standing in the doorway clutching his wand. His wide eyes soften. There is so much love, fear, panic, and grief in those eyes. You're frozen. You're just staring at each other.

There's a bang! somewhere that startles you both into action. You fly as fast as you can to him, and it's no wonder you two don't break your noses with the speed he flies to you too. His lips find yours and you hungrily devour each other to make up for the months lost. You two are holding each other so tight, clinging to each other, tangled in a mess. Your fingers run through his hair and clutch it to bring him closer, not that there is any more space to fill, and his arms are wrapped around your waist in a grip so tight it could rival the grasp of a Devil's Snare. It's only when you hear a second bang! and the first scream, that you're brought back to reality. Not even one second later, noise erupts outside, indicating the battle has begun.

"Y/n... Merlin I am so sorry-"

"Draco, I love you, you have nothing to be sorry for-"

"I love you so-"

"I love you-"

You two are cutting each other off left and right in your rushed conversation, because you don't know if this will be your last. I love yous are said, vows are exchanged in case someone doesn't come out the other end. He even has fashioned a ring out of some twine he found on the ground and slides it onto your ring finger, promising to find you as soon as this is all over, because now he has to pretend to be with them. He has to join his mother and father so he doesn't get killed for being a traitor. You link your fingers with his and make him promise to stay alive. He tells you he refuses to fight the students. He's going to try to deflect anything the Death Eaters throw at the students as discreetly as he can. You kiss him one more time. He kisses you one more time. You feel more steady now that you've been able to be with him one last time. Funnily, it's the most steady you've felt in months. With one more teary kiss, you two run out of the classroom into the chaos.

Everybody wanna steal my girl Everybody wanna take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one 'cause she belongs to me

After the battle is over, Draco doesn't even think before he breaks into a sprint.

"Y/N!" He's screaming your name over and over again, and students who saw him run to their side at the confrontation on the bridge take pity on him and point him where they saw you last. Blood is running into his eyes from a cut on his forehead and he thinks he might have twisted an ankle, but it doesn't matter. He wipes away the blood and keeps looking. He follows a crowd of people heading to the Great Hall and shoves his way inside, but has to stop to take the scene in. It's the most crowded he's ever seen it. People lay on the floor, lean against stairs, or are doing the same as him, marching through to find their friends and family. Wails fill the air when people discover their loved ones have perished, contrasted with the happy sobs as some lucky ones are able to find each other. He watches as one particular couple finds each other, the girl leaps into the boy's arms, tears streaming down both their faces. His heart leaps into his throat and he doesn't even know it, but he's crying too - he needs to find you more than a body needs water.

Then, he sees you. He sees your y/c hair first. You're bent over a student laying on the ground, wrapping a rag around a wound on their arm. For a second, time stops and everything stops moving. He can now feel his heartbeat now pounding in his head.

Y/n? Y/n. Y/N!

"Y/N!" The words finally fly out of his mouth and he runs towards you. Your head shoots up and your wide eyes meet his. You quickly get someone to finish wrapping the student's arm before you push yourself to your exhausted feet. Before you can even move, he's taken you into his arms. He plants kisses all over your hair, kisses your forehead, your nose, both your cheeks, and finally, kisses your lips.

It's a wet kiss, you're both crying. There's relief in this kiss as well as desperation, and this one feels just like your first kiss. Finally, finally, you are in each others' arms again, and although you both know the next few years are going to be hell, it seems more bearable because now you'll be able to do it together, once again.

The war tried to steal you away from him. Voldemort tried to steal you away from him, steal you from this world. But no more. Now, your lives were just starting.

[shizuturnspages]

The poor child reader khaenri'ah since she was unlucky to meet her new yandere caretakers, they have her locked in her new room and restricted of her abilities, it will be possible that the Member fatui or Knights Favonius, (bennett?) (Razor) (Columbine?) (arlecchino?) (pulcinella?) (¿childe and teucer?) (Signora?) (dottore? Sounds crazy, but you might be interested in his experiments) (mika?) , (sacarosa?) (diluc?) or (Klee? ) (There are quite a few options and scenario) meet reader by orders or chance escape and feel bad with her, play with her or manage to at least establish a relationship (such as teaching her something or reading her a story) ??? Being locked up would eventually drive her crazy xD. Basically the yandere who have been trying to get along with her for months or years? They observe how suddenly out of nowhere the reader stops causing chaos and obeys, years of effort just for nothing. Are they jealous? Bad influence? Or will they use it against you??

The Light That Found You, The Shadows That Cling

Synopsis: You had fought them for so long. Kicking, screaming, resisting—you never surrendered. Every locked door was a challenge. Every restriction was a test. They thought they had all the time in the world to break you down. But then, one day… you simply stopped. You didn’t try to escape. You didn’t fight back. You listened. You obeyed. At first, they were suspicious. Then they realized—it wasn’t because of them. It was because of someone else. And that? That was unacceptable. Pairings: [Separate] Yandere Dainsleif, Pierro, Kaeya, Albedo, Capitano x Khaenri'ahn Child

Diluc – The Unintended Saviour

He hadn’t meant to get involved.

He didn’t agree with how they treated you, but interfering? That would make him an enemy to powerful forces.

But when he saw how lifeless you had become, he couldn't ignore it.

He started small—slipping you books, warm meals, quiet moments of freedom in the dead of night.

He expected you to be wary… but you accepted his kindness so easily.

Too easily. As if you had been waiting for someone—anyone—to treat you like a person.

That realization made his blood boil.

Klee – The Little Spark That Lit Your Soul

Klee was never supposed to meet you.

But when she did? She saw a lonely child.

You weren’t mean like the adults said. You weren’t dangerous.

You were just sad.

"Let's play, okay?" she had said, pulling you into a game of knights and treasure hunts.

And for the first time in years—you played along.

You smiled.

And Klee never stopped visiting after that.

Bennett – The Unlucky Hero Who Became Your Light

He met you by accident. (Or maybe his bad luck led him to you on purpose.)

"Woah! You’re the kid everyone keeps locked up? That’s rough, buddy."

He expected you to snap at him. Instead, you just stared.

You weren’t scared of him. You weren’t angry.

You were just… tired.

And that? That wasn’t fair.

"Hey, I’ll tell you an adventure story! Ever heard about the time I fell into a pit of slimes?!"

You didn’t react at first…

But then you laughed.

And for Bennett? That was worth every bit of bad luck.

When the others saw how you changed—how you smiled for him but not for them?

They hated it.

Columbina – The Softest Lullaby in the Dark

She always found you fascinating.

But this? This was something new.

You let her brush your hair, sing you to sleep, and never once did you flinch away.

It was almost too easy.

"You trust me so quickly, little star." Her voice was honeyed, but her mind was calculating.

Who had made you like this?

And how could she use it to keep you forever?

Signora – The Moth Drawn to a Dying Flame

She had seen the worst the world had to offer.

She knew what cruelty looked like. She had lived it.

But you? You were just a child. A lost thing, full of broken pieces and sharp edges.

And yet, despite everything, you had fought.

Fought them, fought fate, fought against becoming another forgotten tragedy.

Until, one day… you didn’t.

At first, she thought it was a trick.

But then, she saw the way you lingered near Diluc, smiled at Klee, softened around Columbina.

And she realized—you had given up.

Not because of fear. Not because of submission.

But because you had found warmth somewhere else.

That was dangerous.

That was a weakness she would not allow.

"Don't be a fool, little ember," she says one evening, tilting your chin up with one gloved finger. "They won't always be there. But I will."

Her voice is gentle, but her grip is iron.

She won’t let you leave. Not now. Not ever.

The Ones Who Watched It Happen

They had tried for years to tame you.

To break you. To mold you into something manageable.

And yet, the moment you found kindness, you changed.

Not for them. For others.

That stung.

That infuriated them.

That made them desperate.

Dainsleif – The Guardian Consumed by Guilt

He had tried to be patient. To give you time.

But this? This wasn't supposed to happen.

You weren’t supposed to choose someone else.

You were supposed to trust him.

"Did I fail you?" he murmurs, watching you from the shadows.

He doesn’t know if he should feel regretful… or jealous.

Pierro – The Chessmaster Who Lost His Piece

He had calculated everything.

Your resistance. Your defiance. Your inevitable surrender.

But this? This was a variable he hadn’t considered.

"It appears I underestimated the influence of simple kindness."

His expression was unreadable.

But inside? He was furious.

Kaeya – The Smiling Mask That Finally Cracked

He had teased you, pushed you, manipulated you…

And you never broke.

But now? You willingly let someone else in?

"I thought we had something special, little star." His tone was light, but his hands were clenched.

He had to get you back.

Albedo – The Experiment That Yielded the Wrong Result

He had watched you, studied you.

Your patterns, your resistance, your growth.

But now? You were no longer the same.

And that was unacceptable.

"I must correct this anomaly," he murmurs to himself.

You were his greatest creation.

And he wouldn’t let you slip away.

Capitano – The Warrior Who Lost His Battle

He respected your defiance.

He had thought it would take years for you to submit.

And yet…

A few moments of kindness undid everything he had worked for.

That? That was a weakness he could not allow.

"You are still mine," he tells you, his voice heavy with finality.

And he meant it.

[ohtobealady]

💛 For Cobert (obvs!!!) 😁

Hi darling! Better late than never? Have an offering of an unedited mobile drabble. It’s very angsty, and I’m not sorry about that, but I do still hope you find something about it you like.

💛 reunion kiss / relief ——————————

Robert put his hand on the glass knob of the dividing door and waited a moment before he turned it. It was true he’d held her as they wept this afternoon. It was true he’d put his hand over hers in the motor as they journeyed home again. It was also true that when they returned home from Mama’s, she’d touched his arm—her gloved fingers holding the muscle—before she made her way upstairs to lie down. He’d nearly asked her then, if he should come up with her, but he was still unsure. The reconciliation was too fragile, too delicate, as if one wrong word would permanently sever whatever still tied them to one another. Holding her when Clarkson left—he hadn’t made the conscious decision to do that. He’d only seen her breaking—his Cora—and he’d gone to her. It wasn’t until he felt her soften against him that he’d realized she was in his arms, and he cried.

This was different. Joining her in her room again was different. Even though she’d looked at him across the table at dinner tonight with a gentleness that felt like the past, this was different. Going into her room again—asking to sleep beside her…if she turned him away, he wasn’t certain he could endure it.

She won’t, he told himself. His mind pleaded for him to acknowledge whatever it was that still tied them to one another. Not their past-–not anymore. It was too painful to think of the way they had been before…but perhaps their girls. Their living girls.

His heart ached.

Their grandchild.

And his heart ached more, for Cora.

Robert looked at the knob in his hand, and he turned it just as he’d done a thousand nights before. But this time, like a young, foolish boy hurrying through a churchyard, he held his breath as he went through.

Her room was dim, the blue darker than in his memory, but in the lamplight his eyes found hers immediately.

And he took in a shallow breath.

For the first time in weeks and weeks, when he looked at her, he felt her there with him again. And Robert’s aching heart broke.

“I’ll understand if you still need time apart, here. That is—” He fumbled his speech a little, not being able to bring himself to move any of his fears into words, and so instead he swallowed and started again. “I thought I might—“ and yet he could not say that either. Hope hurt nearly as much as grief did. No. He let his presence take the place of the words he couldn’t quite bring himself to say.

And he waited silently before, sitting in her bed, he saw as Cora drew in a long breath, her thin shoulders rising in her thinner nightdress.

“Oh, Robert.” Then, her towering breath came quavering out. “Stay.”

He found himself swallowing down the thick emotion choking him. This was a feeling greater than relief. Greater and more painfully dear than relief could ever be.

He worked off his housecoat as he heard Cora shifting the sheets of her bedding, and when he moved to her, he saw she’d pulled the bedclothes back, and then met her gaze.

Nearly immediately her lovely face stiffened and her mouth turned slowly into a frown, and Robert nearly fell into her bed to meet her.

She rolled to him, and he put his arms around her and held her shuddering form tightly to his chest. He felt her warm breath through the silk of his pajamas and he felt the way her face pushed into the space beneath his chin, her nose beneath the curve of his jaw, and he pulled her closer.

He cried even if what he felt was less like sorrow than it did all the weeks before. It was still grief, but softer now; his chest that Cora pressed against felt so tight and yet he found himself able to breathe with her there. Had he not been able to breathe before?

She shifted in his arms, shifted her face up to his, her temple against his jaw, and he heard as she breathed, too, taking in shaking pulls of air. And her wet lashes brushed against his cheek.

“I was so cruel.” Her voice hardly made any words at all through the tremble of her breath, but he heard her, and he shook his head against hers.

“—No, I—“

“—how can you ever forgive me?”

“Darling.”

“I was so angry that I still loved you.” Here, Cora pulled slightly away and he saw that she looked at him, her sobs controlled, her tears not. He closed his eyes, but he still heard her. “How can you forgive me? For not wanting to love you?”

Robert choked, shook, and then pulled her against him once more. He pushed his face against hers, his cheek feeling hers, and again though his chest ached, his body softened. And it was a comfort to sob against her.

“You don’t need my forgiveness,” he managed against her ear, and her head moved toward the sound, his lips. He felt them contort into a frown. “But I have needed you.”

And Cora sobbed anew, her face pushing against his, and their lips finding each other—jaw, cheeks, and tears—before he held her ever tighter and cried.

[kpopsexstories]

One-shot #21: NCT Jaemin has sex with an older woman

This is the 21th story of my broader Mixed One-shots series and the 6th and final NCT Dream MILF story. Previous parts:

Jeno

Jisung

Haechan

Chenle

Mark

Celebrity: NCT Jaemin

Sex Content: Jaemin has rough sex with a mysterious older woman who might be a crazy sasaeng.

Type of Sex: WILD

Word Count: 3.5k

When they met in the hotel corridor it was almost as if the woman had planned it. She was mysteriously lingering outside Jaemin's door, in a sexy dress too hip for her age and with a naughty smirk on her face. He found it awkward the way she eyed him when he got his key card out and opened the door, finally ready to go to sleep. Yet she was appealing and attractive which also made him curious.

His friends were long since in bed. He was the last one to turn in. The woman put a foot in the door when he tried to close it.

Jaemin's heart stopped. Uh-oh. Sasaeng alert.

She was significantly older than him. She could have been his mother. But the way she moved and dressed, in a seductive and confident way, made Jaemin feel sexually drawn to her.

He was also more than a little drunk.

She's not a fan, Jaemin thought. Maybe she's a prostitute...

“I know what you're thinking,” the woman said. “I'm not dangerous, I promise. I just happened to see you at the bar earlier.”

Jaemin struggled not to look down at her revealing cleavage. “I saw you too,” Jaemin admitted.

“Can I come in?” the woman asked. She pouted her lips heavily covered in makeup and brushed her hair to the side. She seemed to simultaneoulsy know him and want to fuck him, and to no fault of his own – well, maybe it was entirely his own fault – Jaemin fell for it.

He should have been more worried. The right and obvious thing to do would be to dismiss her and quickly close the door. But he was simply too tipsy to care and too drawn to her to let this opportunity slide. So Instead he invited her inside.

In this moment he wasn't at all scared of the sexy and sensual woman. She could rob him, kill him, over-charge him for whatever they were about to do, take private photos of him… the risks and possibilities were endless. But instead of turning her away, he stopped fighting the foot and let her in before anyone would see them.

If she was indeed there for sex he was super excited about it. Jeno had been bragging about fucking older women in the past, and Jaemin wanted to try it too.

*****

Before Jaemin knew it he was in his room and down to his underwear. A mature woman sat naked and wet in front of him. They'd been making out, passionately undressing each other, fingering and massaging each other's privates.

It felt surreal, but intriguing and fun. His young mind and throbbing dick were over the moon with joy just to be there in this moment.

The woman lay down on her stomach on his bed. She spread her thighs for him and turned her head, to see his figure as he climbed on top of her from behind.

“Fuck me, big boy,” she ordered in a deep voice.

Jaemin pulled himself up on his arms and looked down over the woman's bare back and shoulders. She wasn't young, slim or fit, but her confidence and personality made her insanely attractive. The way she exposed her rear end to him and invited him to have his way with her made his jaw drop.

He slowly thrust his hips above and behind her, his dick gliding along her slightly wrinkly cheeks, through the crack of her saggy ass. He closed his eyes and groaned as the friction produced an intense pleasure which ran from his groin to his heart.

When he moved his ass further back, the dick slipped and fell onto the mattress. When he pushed it forward it slid under the woman's body, poking around between her legs.

She raised and angled her ass so he could find the way. He reached down to aid and aim the movements of his dick. Eventually the head pushed gently into her vagina, stretched her loose but dripping folds.

When it did he couldn't hold back any longer. The realization that this was really happening, and the consequent acceptance of the fact that she was there and offering her body to him, sank in fast and hard.

Jaemin grimaced when the wet pussy devoured his shaft. When it swallowed it whole he let out a deep sigh of lust and desire.

It felt great. Amazing and wonderful. He'd been horny all night, and had been undressing her with his eyes already at the bar. Just as she had been eying and undressing him. This was just what they both wanted and needed.

Jaemin was excited about the whole situation, as strange as it was, and felt great about the fact that someone like her wanted his body and allowed his young self to fuck her like this. It made him hard as hell.

Jaemin was no stranger to sex. He liked it wild and rough. Most girls he'd ever been with were timid and careful.

Not this woman. She had come on to him strong and suggested things he'd only ever dreamed about. It was as if she could read his mind.

“Mm, yeah, fuck me big boy,” she repeated. “Yes, your big cock feels so good.”

The words triggered Jaemin. He quickly straightened his arms, a hand on the bed on either side of the hot milf, raising his upper body above her.

He quickly started thrusting fast. His thigh muscles tensed and he kept making grimacing faces of pleasure. He started groaning, wild and animal-like, as the woman's ass cheeks clapped against his groin and his dick was lubricated by her juices.

“Mm, yes, fuck me!” she exclaimed.

“Mmpfh, fuck, you're so tight,” Jaemin lied. For some reason it felt like the natural thing to say.

“Yes, right there, oh god you're so big!”

Jaemin changed his posture. He wrapped an arm around the woman's front, pushing his hand in between her and the mattress to feel her busty front. He put his weight on his elbow and squeezed her soft side, his free hand sliding down her body and onto her hip and thigh.

The woman turned her head away from the pillow and grimaced, as the weight of his body pressed down hard on her. He was muscular and fit, and his broad shoulders covered her neck and shoulder blades.

He moved his ass quickly up and down, pushing his dick deep inside her. His balls dangled between his legs, repeatedly slapping against the insides of her thighs.

“Yes, yes, YES!” she screamed.

“Huuh, Huuh, mm, Fuuuck!” he kept moaning and groaning.

The woman suddenly rolled. She turned her body sideways and Jaemin's relatively small figure fell off her. He hugged her from behind, dick still inside her, while her back and ass rolled on top of him and she climbed onto his crotch.

She put her hands on the bed behind her and arched her spine. Jaemin, also on his back, raised his head to look down at her ass on top of him, and his shaft which pointed straight up and slipped in and out of her. The head was clinging to the edge of her pussy for dear life, nearly falling out of her several times.

The woman relaxed and lay down on his stomach and chest. He reached around her front, caressing her wonderful breasts. Then his hand found its way to her vagina, where his fingers became moist from her juices and his pre-cum, as he pushed them inside and shared the space with the cock.

Jaemin relaxed too, focused on the sensation of his dick and fingers inside her. The woman started moving her hips and ass up and down, slightly adjusting the angle so the head and shaft could find her clit.

“Mmm, you feel amazing,” Jaemin whispered when he buried his head in her neck and smelled her hair. “Who are you?”

The woman didn't answer. She kept rocking her body on his a few more times, then sat up straight and turned around.

“Take me against the wall,” she said. She stood up and Jaemin's dick fell out of her and onto his lower stomach.

Jaemin was surprised at first. The woman glanced down at his dick and smiled. “Mm, so big,” she said and grabbed it, then pulled to get him to come with her. It made him forget about everything other than her.

He scooted down the bed and sat up on the edge. She took his hand as she started walking toward the wall. She faced it and he positioned himself behind her, and soon the dick was back inside.

He pushed her head against the hard surface in front of them. She stuck her ass out so he could penetrate her more easily. He widened his stance and bent his knees slightly, to get the perfect angle.

The dick pushed up and out into her pussy. When it was inside her he hugged her from behind, and kissed her cheek while he panted lowly by her ear.

“Mm, I can't believe I get to fuck you,” Jaemin moaned.

“I can't believe you want someone like me,” the woman admitted.

“Are you kidding me?” Jaemin said. “You're so fucking sexy.”

That's exactly what the older woman wanted to hear. That young men desired her. That they still found her attractive and hot. That she still had it in her, to pleasure and satisfy any man. She was not a sasaeng, and she didn't care that Jaemin was famous.

“Mm, yes!” she exclaimed when Jaemin hit her in just the right spot. It prompted him to fuck her harder.

He pushed her sideways along the wall. She grabbed on to a desk which stood beside them, and spread her legs wide behind her. The desk rattled as the violent sex continued.

Jaemin grabbed the woman's hips and stretched his arms long, leaning backwards to see all of her. He thrust hard and fast behind her, deep into her pussy. She closed her eyes and whimpered, moaning the same word repeatedly: “Yes, yes, yes, yes!”

The clasping sound of Jaemin's crotch hitting her ass again and again filled the room. The desk kept rattling and slamming against the wall. His strong arms and abs tensed and flexed, and his buff chest became even more defined as it was pushed together between his biceps.

He looked down at the shaft which went in and out at a high pace. Then he threw his head back and grunted wildly at the ceiling.

“Ahh, ahh, fuck yeah, you're so hot!”

“Yes yes, fuck me harder big boy!”

“Mm, mm, you're so fucking tight!”

“Yes, yes, JAEMIN, JAEMIIIIN!”

Jaemin reached his climax just as she screamed his name. The intense sensation made him ignore what she just said. He abruptly let go of her body and pulled out, then took his erect cock and stroke it furiously, his brain numb and unable to register anything beyond the immense pleasure.

She realized what was happening behind her and quickly swirled around. She sat on her knees and opened her mouth wide, stuck her tongue out and let his head rub against it as he jerked off.

Jaemin erupted in her face. “M-mm, mmm-mmmpfh!” he said when he came.

She quickly closed her eyes, and his sperm shot onto her lips, nose and eyelid.

He stared wide-eyed down at her, at her facial features and the makeup she'd put on, and at the cum which now covered half of it.

“Mmm, mmm,” she said when she closed her mouth around the head and licked his cock.

“Haaah, Haaah, Haaah,” Jaemin heaved loudly over her. “Ahhh, fuckin’ hell! That was incredible!”

His chest was pumping. His abs and tiny waist kept moving in and out with each deep breath. His face was red and flustered, and his dick was still large but gradually softening.

She sucked up as much cum as she could and swallowed. He grinned down at her, amazed by what she did to him, and what she let him do to her. He wrapped two fingers around the root of the shaft, and playfully slapped her face with it while grinning.

It made her cuckle. She stuck her tongue back out and licked. Then she slowly started to get back up on her feet.

She put a hand on her knee for assistance. “Mm,” she grunted and her face seemed pained.

Jaemin looked her in the eye and smirked. “Wait here,” he said and abruptly walked away from her. He went to get a towel from the bathroom. She admired his cute, tight ass, and when he returned toward her with the towel in hand, his half-hard big dick which was swinging from side to side.

They giggled and smiled at each other when he wiped the cum off her face.

“So, who are you?” Jaemin asked. Then his smile went away. Now that his mind was no longer clouded by sex and desire his heart sank a little. “I never told you my name.”

The woman realized her mistake. She suddenly pulled away from him, and picked up her dess and the thong which Jaemin had taken off her with his teeth.

She put her clothes back on. Jaemin looked on, somewhat stunned and confused.

“Thanks,” the woman said and smiled when she was dressed and put on her high heels. Then she came in and gave Jaemin a final kiss on the lips. “I should go now.”

Jaemin watched in silence. The woman bolted just as quickly as she had appeared. He just stood there, wide-eyed and with an open mouth.

Then he went and threw himself on the bed. He stared at the ceiling, naked and happy, and smiled wide to himself.

That was amazing, he thought. It didn't matter who the woman was. He was safe and satisfied. She never had her phone out and he didn't think there was ever a chance she could have stolen anything. There was probably nothing to worry about.

*****

When the boys of NCT Dream came down from their hotel rooms for breakfast they were giddy and excited. They all had a certain glow to them, and there was a good reason for it. It was afterglow, following a brief but passionate sexual experience with a hot milf.

None of them had told a soul, but they were all dying to tell their friends about the insane thing that happened last night.

“You're not going to believe this,” Jeno said confidently and with an enormous grin on his face, as everyone was finally gathered around a restaurant table.

“I have something crazy to tell you,” Jaemin interrupted, but he was happy to hold on to his secret a little longer to let Jeno tell his story first.

“Why are you so happy?” Mark teased and punched Jisung on the shoulder. “Did you get lucky last night or something?”

Jisung smirked and gave all his friends a naughty side eye. That's exactly what he did, and he couldn't wait to tell them all about it.

“Believe what?” Chenle asked and curiously looked at Jeno.

They all had something exciting to share. They all could barely wait to share it. And they were all being secretive and holding back, waiting for the right moment. A story of this magnitude deserved everyone's undivided attention.

“A woman came on to me last night,” Jeno said and grinned from ear to ear. “We had the most insane sex in an apartment she borrowed.”

Jisung became wide-eyed and a little surprised. “So did I!” he muttered and smiled wide.

Mark was curious by what his friends were telling him. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. The same thing happened to him, though in his case it was in his hotel room and the woman had brought a friend.

“Who?” Jaemin asked with suspicion and looked at Jisung. For a second he thought it was with a girl their age whom they might all know.

“I dunno, that's the crazy part,” Jisung said. ”I don't even know her name. But she was amazing!”

“What?” Mark exclaimed. He looked sceptical and tried to hide his emotions. “I met someone too. She was crazy! Such a MILF.”

He instinctively gave Jisung another playful hit on the shoulder, as if to congratulate them both on an achievement.

“Wait, this happened to me too,” Haechan said. ”She came on to me at the hotel yesterday, and came to my room too. She was older, but damn I've never had such good sex before.”

Something was starting to dawn on several of the boys, whose expressions changed from playful, naughty and proud, to serious and a little concerned.

“How much older?” Jeno asked and looked around the table, fishing for clues.

“I dunno, a lot,” Haechan said.

They all glance at each other, and Jeno reached into his pocket for his phone.

“So, who here had sex last night?” Mark asked. Everyone around him raised a hand.

“You don't think… she's a fan?” Haechan asked, suddenly looking worried.

“Was she a milf?” Jaemin added to the line of questions. Everyone nodded in agreement while they turned their heads from side to side.

“Did you know her before?” Jisung asked.

“No,” they each muttered.

“Never met her,” Jeno concluded. He opened the photo app on his phone and found what he was looking for. “Is this her?”

Everyone leaned in to see as he held the phone up. They stared at the face and body of a mature, naked woman flaunting her saggy skin on a bed.

“Yes!” Jaemin exclaimed.

Mark burst out laughing. “That's her!”

“What the hell?” Chenle said and frowned.

“Does anyone know who she is?” Haechan asked.

“No,” Jaemin said and his eyes widened. “But she did know my name. I'm pretty sure I never told her.”

Renjun, who was the only one who had remained quiet and clueless throughout the conversation, leaned in close in front of the others. How come everyone had had sex except him? He got a good look at the screen and suddenly reached out. He grabbed the phone and abruptly yanked it from Jeno's hand.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” he exclaimed, so loud that several guests from other tables turned to look.

“What?” Chenle asked. Everyone was suddenly looking at Renjun, confused and surprised by his horrified expression.

“What is it?” Haechan asked.

“Do you know her?” Jeno added.

“Did you have sex with her too?” Mark wondered.

Renjun looked flabbergasted. “No!” he erupted, visibly distressed and suddenly turning red.

“Then what is it?” Jeno asked.

Renjun didn't know what to say. He felt like he wanted to die. This was horrible, and he could kill the woman for what she'd done.

“Tell us!” Haechan ordered.

Renjun looked around the table, shock and horror on his face. “That's my fucking mom!”

They all became quiet. For several seconds they just sat there, stunned as they processed the revelation. Then they all burst out laughing.

“This isn't funny!” Renjun exclaimed.

But they all thought that it was. It had happened and there was nothing they could do about it now. Had they known they probably wouldn't have gone through with it. Probably. But at the same time, they had all just had some of the most amazing sex of their lives.

“We're sorry,” Mark said, tears of laughter in his eyes.

“Yeah, we didn't know,” Jeno said and rubbed his eyes. He couldn't stop giggling.

“She was amazing,” Jaemin teased.

Renjun hit him had on the arm. “Fuck you!” he said with a serious expression on his face. But the laughter was contagious, and no real harm had been done. He eventually burst out in a big smile, totally embarrassed but also somewhat amused by the whole ordeal.

*****

None of the boys ever saw the older woman naked again, or if they did they'd never admit to it. Some of them felt shame, though if anyone should be ashamed it was her. She was the one who had come on to men much younger than her, knowing very well who they were: the friends and colleagues of her son.

Any and all occasions in which parents were present and they met again became an awkward affair. The boys never knew if they should gawk at her large bosom, come on to her for a second round, or pretend they didn't know her. Behind the scenes, however, they all giggled and joked about their experience with Renjun's mother. What else could they do?

She wasn't at all ashamed though. All she felt was young, hot and desired. And that was really the only thing she was after.

[nie7027]

OMGGGGGGG I HAD NEVER WATCHED THE SPECIAL OVA DEDICATED TO NAOYA AND KOU!!!!

ITS SO PRECIOUS!!!!!😭😭😭

[evilkitten3]

btw i decided to restart my undertale replay bc i wanted to play through in japanese (both the practice and out of curiosity) and. i gotta say the way they handled the fonts for sans and papyrus was not what i was expecting

[guubiiz]

trein...

[suad-khaled]

Can you imagine being stripped of safety at the happiest moment of your life? I’m Suad, a young mother from Gaza, where I gave birth to my son Khaled amidst the chaos of w@r.

When I first heard his cries, I felt indescribable joy, but soon I was overwhelmed with fear. How would I protect him from the hor/rors surrounding us? Each day presents a new challenge from food and water shortages to a lack of medical care.

My family and I have faced repeated displ@cements, searching for a safe haven away from the bomb@rdments. I struggle daily to provide Khaled with his basic needs while our health deteriorates under these harsh conditions.

I urgently need your support to secure shelter and medical care for Khaled. You can be part of our story, as every bit of help makes a real difference.

If you can share my story or offer support, I would be forever grateful. Hope exists, but we need you to help us achieve it. Thank you for your understanding and big hearts.

Please share my story; it might reach someone who can offer support. If you’re unable to donate, sharing my story would mean so much. You can spread the link across your social media and reblog my pinned post. Additionally, sharing my account can help others follow our updates and support us.

I’ve been verified by Nabulsi, El-Shab Hussien, and NorthGazaUpdate, 90-ghost, and I’m listed on the vetted list on 279 line.

- Our story began with the birth of my son Khaled amid difficult circumstances; the joy was tinged with fear due to the surrounding situation. Link1 Link2 Link3

- Khaled fell seriously ill, and we had to take him to the hospital. These moments were filled with tension due to the lack of medical services and difficulty accessing them. Link1 Link2

-We experienced multiple displacements due to the surrounding dangers, facing daily threats to our lives and being forced to keep moving. Link1

-Khaled's health deteriorated significantly, and he required daily nebulization sessions to alleviate his condition, but power outages prevented us from providing the necessary treatment. Link1

-With the deteriorating conditions, we are suffering from significant financial pressures due to rising prices and a lack of resources, making it exhausting to meet our basic needs. Link1

I have come to realize that I can’t face these conditions alone. Every bit of support, whether through sharing my story or posting these updates, means so much to my family and me. I kindly ask you to help spread my story, as everyone who reads it may be a bridge to the support we desperately need.

Thank you for your understanding and your big hearts

@mushroomjar @heph @daily-spooky @blu-berry-blast @blu-berriez

@neptunerings @neatleaf @fancysmudges @brokenbackmountain @mothblyatebanaya

@aleciosun @fluoresensitivearchived @khizuo @lesbia @transmutationdice

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@imjustheretotrytohelp

[arolesbianism]

I have such a love hate relationship with Ellie. On the one hand I have my petty grudge against her, but on the other hand shes so sillyyyyy being Jackie's lil lackey did her so many favors in my mind she's not only a lil shit but also a lil teachers pet I love her

[ghostedbunnie]

nightmare in the daylight

knight!ghost x fem!reader

based on my prompt that you can find here.

warnings: non-con/dub-con, size kink, spanking, oral (f.receiving), fingering (f.receiving), thigh riding, biting, creampie, breeding kink

a/n: i feel so rusty so please be gentle i rewrote this way too many times, it was a lot longer and had more plot but i might just end up writing pt.2 if there is interest, I added a tag list for those who wanted to see this! 🫶

Ghost hadn't anticipated encountering a robbery on the forest trail while en route to collect his king's future wife. It was unexpected but not unwelcome; he was yearning for a skirmish, for blood and broken bones. The recent tranquility had left him restless. These bandits wouldn't pose much of a challenge, but they would at least satisfy his craving.

The skies began to pour as soon as he dismounted from his horse, startling the highwaymen. They were engaged in a one-sided fight with a few knights who had undoubtedly been sent to protect the carriage on its way to his kingdom. Before any of them could react to his arrival, heads started rolling. Chaos erupted once more, with screams of terror cutting through the forest and startling the remaining fauna.

After the final enemy fell to a sword through his abdomen, Ghost approached the carriage with slow, deliberate steps. As he opened the door, he was taken by surprise as a curtain was thrown into his face and a shard of glass was aimed for his neck by a scrawny, wild-looking maid. Despite your trembling, there was a fierce determination in your eyes, a vow that you would not give up without a struggle. Beneath his face plate, the corner of his mouth curled up, and with a wry snort, he deflected the shard from your bleeding hand. Seizing you by the back of your neck like a feisty kitten showing its claws, he pulled you out of the carriage and dropped you onto the chilly, muddy ground. As he turned back to the carriage to retrieve the princess, he realized she was no warrior; she had fainted at the sight of his imposing figure silhouetted against the moonlight.

As he carries your mistress to his horse, you launch at his back, kicking and screaming, trying to make him let her go. He unceremoniously deposits her on the horse like a sack of potatoes. Finally, he turns back to catch your hands, which have been beating at his back, with one of his much bigger hands. Your eyes go wide with terror as the reality of your position with this beast sinks in. He can't help but relish in the look of you now, wet hair sticking to your face, wild eyes, and scratches on your cheek from the broken glass. You look like a tasty meal for his beastly appetite and he's been starving for far too long. You are unaware of it but attracting his attention will be the worst mistake of your life. As he draws you closer with your bound wrists, he whispers into your ear so that you can hear him over the pouring rain, “Yer brave but stupid, girl.” After that, he hits the back of your neck and everything goes black.

The next thing you know, you are standing in front of the king who explains the entire situation. However, somehow that doesn't help the sinking feeling in your stomach, especially when the king mentions a reward for the behemoth of a man towering over you. He is still covered in blood, and daylight doesn't make him any less terrifying. He stalks around like a nightmare in black leathers that hug his form tight and emphasize his width. As if sensing your thoughts, he takes a step closer, taking up more of your space, and before you can move away, you catch the last words uttered by the king: “You brought me, my bride, Ghost, it's only fair you get a reward. Take your pick - anything you wish for will be yours.”

A weighty, gloved paw settles on the nape of your neck, causing you to startle. "I'll take 'er." Your mistress immediately starts to protest but despite her objections, the king simply nods and smiles, disregarding you entirely. You have no option but to allow the beast, that he called Ghost, to guide you away with a firm hand on your nape.

After navigating through several twists and turns, you find yourself in an unremarkable room. It contains only the absolute necessities—a bed and very little else. The one thing that draws your attention in the room is the sizeable tub that is still emitting steam, indicating it was just filled a few minutes ago.

Silently, Ghost pushes you towards the tub, and you promptly begin to retreat away from it. You refuse to bathe in his presence. Even though you are just a servant, you are still a virtuous lady.

“Either you go voluntarily or I'll throw you in kickin' and screamin'.” He growls and then says, "I'll relish it either way." You can sense the predatory undertone in his voice. You're fighting a losing battle, as going willingly gives him complete control, yet resisting might provoke an even more... primal response.

You break free from his hold, realizing that he let you go willingly. 

"Can you... turn around?" he scoffs, moving to a chair that creaks under his weight. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he gestures for you to proceed. Though you want to scream or lash out, you hold back, sensing that he's waiting for you to lose control. Instead, you turn around and slowly peel off your muddied and torn dress. As you reach the chemise underneath, you sneak a peek and notice he has removed his helmet and face plate, revealing short dirty blond hair, black coal marks around his eyes, and prominent scars cutting through his lips and brow. Despite his broken nose, he remains strangely alluring, which frightens you. Hastily, you turn back, slide the chemise down, and attempt to hide under the steaming water.

"Good girl," he growls, satisfied with your obedience. Just as the relief that maybe this is all he wanted starts to sink into your bones, it's replaced with dread when you notice he starts shedding his clothes too. He loosens up his dark, blood-stained leathers with ease and deftness you wouldn't expect from a man his size.

"What are you doing?" Panic is evident in your question, but it doesn't seem to bother him at all.

"Can't bathe with my clothes on," he answers matter-of-factly. Once again, a wave of indignation courses through you, but it's quickly overshadowed by a pang of heat that forces you to rub your thighs together underwater. Your eyes can't help but stay glued to him, just as he did to you when you were taking your dress off. He is now down to his breeches, and when he pulls them down his thick thighs, you audibly gasp when you notice he is not wearing anything underneath. This earns you an amused chuckle, especially when he catches you looking again through your fingers.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, but before your thoughts can drift to what lies between his powerful thighs, he steps into the tub with you. Water spills over the edges, though he doesn't seem to mind. He pulls you close, turning you so your back presses against him, your body nestled between his legs, leaning on his firm chest. The light tickle of his hair brushes against your skin, and his strong arm rests across your stomach, fingers splayed making you feel even smaller. The contact makes you squirm, but as you try to pull away, you only stir the hardening length behind you, making you flush with heat.

“Relax,” he grunts into your ear, more command than a suggestion.

“How can I possibly –ah.” Your reply gets cut off by a moan as his other hand falls from the edge of the tub and wanders between your legs. Your attempts at closing your legs seem futile even with one hand he is strong enough to force his way in and drag his fingers through your folds nearing the opening. Your spine arches instinctively and he answers with a nip to your neck and jaw, while forcing a finger up to the first knuckle in. 

“Gotta loosen you up a bit, pet.” You have no choice but to surrender to his touch as he sinks his finger in and curls it, drawing a moan out of you before you clap a hand over your mouth to keep the sounds in. But all that decorum is forgotten when he adds a second one and scissors them before slowly prodding you with the third making you see stars. The tension building in your body suddenly snaps, sending you reeling, legs going numb and your fingers digging into his arm still wrapped around your stomach. 

With your mind hazy from your first-ever orgasm, you don't even register that he pulls you out of the bath, drying you, and carrying you to the bed in the center of the spacious room. Your body already half asleep.

His gravelly voice pulls you out of your post-orgasmic haze. “Naive, little thing.” Suddenly he is trailing hungry, open-mouthed, and nippy kisses down the length of your body. Marking your neck and collarbones with angry red marks, biting down harder than necessary on the underside of your breast leaving behind imprints of his teeth, and making you hiss when the pain mixes with the pleasure, he licks a trail down your stomach and in a moment of clear-headedness you try to fist his hair and tug him up and away from your center but his hair is cut too short for any leverage. When you lock eyes with him, between your legs forcing them open with hunger and lust written all over his face you try to get away just for him to deliver a loud smack to your outer thigh before dragging you closer and licking a stripe through your folds with a loud guttural groan that you feel more than you hear it.

His thumb circles your clit while he alternates kissing, sucking, and fucking you with his tongue. When your squirming in an attempt to get away turns into grinding your hips against his face, his other hand rests on your stomach adding slight pressure and making you cry out which only spurs him on. The sounds that reverberated through his chest were nothing short of animalistic and when your second orgasm shot through your core, you fell limp against the sheets with a moan that would make you blush if at least half of your brain was still functioning properly. A new wave of panic sets in when you realize that he isn't stopping. On the contrary, he probes you with his fingers in addition to his tongue. You can feel the coil in your lower belly tightening again, heating up with his ministrations.

You plead with him, saying you can't take anymore just for him to disregard it with a growl, “You've got plenty more in ya.” 

You've lost count of how many times you came when he manhandled you around onto your hands and knees propping your hips up with a pillow. You turn to look at him with heavy-lidded eyes and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him standing behind you with his massive hand tugging at his thick, angry-looking, and leaking cock with his eyes glued to your core, still pulsing and wet from all your previous orgasms. Without warning he grabs your hips, aligns the blunt head of his cock with your entrance, and pushes in. Your fingers dig into the sheets from the sheer stretch as you mewl and whimper when he drags himself all the way to slam back in. Everything is too much and not enough at the same time, with every thrust his fingers dig into your hips and you are sure there will be fingerprints left with how hard he is gripping you and the idea makes you wetter. Prompted by the delicious drag of his cock your walls keep tightening around him, as he pushes you closer and closer to your release. One of his muscular arms circles your waist, his chest flush to your back, as his other arm comes to rest next to your head with one of his legs still firmly planted on the floor and the other resting next to you on the bed for better purchase. This new angle combined with the gravelly grunts so close to your ear become your undoing and you hurtle full-force into another mind-numbing orgasm with Ghost following close behind.

“Come f'r me, pet.” Again, not a suggestion but a command and who are you to refuse him? So you do as he says, pussy fluttering from the aftershocks as he fucks you through it, thumb circling your clit before he fills you up, not allowing you to move an inch, keeping your hips propped up and when he pulls out which drags another set of whimpers from you he meticulously pushes his spend back with thick, calloused fingers. “Gotta make sure it takes.” 

If your consciousness weren't slipping away, you'd likely be alarmed, but instead, your eyes begin to close again, and this time, sleep claims you.

You wake to a heavy weight pressing down on your back, and it takes a moment for your mind to catch up with the events of yesterday. When it does, your entire body flushes and you attempt to move out of bed, only to find it futile. You're pinned beneath strong arms marked with scars—some from arrows, large and small, and others older, circular, and still appearing raw.

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted as a thick, muscular thigh presses deeper between your legs, forcing them apart. Without much thought, you begin to grind against it, a primal urge stirring within you. Despite the lingering soreness from yesterday, a fresh wave of need starts to build, and any trace of resistance fades in the face of overwhelming pleasure. It feels shameful, but you can't stop the tentative movements, slowly finding a rhythm—until the sudden flex of his thigh makes you gasp, your eyes rolling back.

“So needy,” he growls close to your ear but there's no trace of anger in his voice, if anything he sounds pleased. “Come on, ride it harder.” He punctuates the sentence with yet another flex of his thigh and a nip to your neck, making you shudder but follow through with his command. As you grind back against his thigh you take a note of his cock stirring, resting heavy and hard between your bare ass. You push against it absentmindedly and find yourself pinned under him, your legs still held apart with his thigh that's now embarrassingly slick with your arousal. The visual of it makes you turn your head away, eyes closed and whimpering. Ghost doesn't like that. His massive paw of a hand grabs at your cheeks, your lips puckering involuntarily while he grunts at you to keep those eyes open for him. As he licks into your mouth, it suddenly dawns on you—this is your first kiss. You had already let this beast inside you before even sharing a kiss, and everything felt so out of order, that it made you want to scream and cry. Instead, you settle on throwing your hands around him and clawing at his back as he aligns himself with your needy, sore pussy and thrusts to the hilt without so much as a warning.

Even after yesterday, the burn of the stretch to accommodate his length makes fresh tears spring up into your eyes and roll down the apples of your cheeks. You swear you see his scarred lips twitch up into a savage smile at the sight of them before he licks them clean off your cheeks with a satisfied groan. In retaliation you dig your nails deeper into his sturdy back, hoping to break the skin and leave a mark that only ends up urging him to fuck you harder, faster. The sounds reverberating in the room drive you crazy; over them, you don't even notice a soft knock at the door but whoever it was scurries away registering the sound of the moans he wrings out of you with one particularly hard thrust that pushes so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Effortlessly he manhandles your legs on his shoulders to hit a different angle. As you struggle with the overwhelming feeling of fullness he leaves a deceptively soft kiss on your ankle before he folds you in half again and wrestles another mind-shattering orgasm out of you and succumbing to one himself, painting your insides with his spent. Pulling out, he doesn't bother moving, he simply rests his head on your chest between your breasts, squeezing the air out of your lungs with the sheer size of him. “Rest now, pet. Plenty of time for more o' that later.”

At that moment, you know there is no turning back; you've been taken, branded from the inside out. You wonder if this is truly so horrible, perhaps this nightmare of a man will drive away all the other nightmares plaguing your mind.

Or perhaps he is even more dreadful than your imagination could have ever conjured.

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[goldsbitch]

Kiss with a fist

To his twins, the world is ending. To Lando, it’s another exhausting reminder that parenting might actually be harder than racing.

or - No boys allowed near the girls from now on, especially not his rivals' son.

warning: dad! Lando, none, fun, domestic 3k word count stand alone part of Norris Family Polaroids

//

There is a loud crying sound coming from the room the seven year olds share and Lando has never felt so old in his bones. He'd just come back from an exhausting race and those don't exactly get easier with age. In times like these, he longs for the days when he was in his first years in F1, blissfully unaware of just how capable and seamless his body was. Anyway. No time to sulk in. One of his daughters is in distress and the day he does not respond to that will be the day he willingly puts himself up in jail.

He gets up from the couch and rushes over to the kids room. The crying is not stopping and when he enters it somehow starts clicking all in. He kneels down and hugs Maya, who looks like is determined to cry her eyes out. Meanwhile, Olivia is sitting on her bed, exceptionally quiet and has never looked more suspicious in her life, ever.

"We need to keep a closer eye on Liv, I think she's teasing Maya too much these days" he recalls Y/N saying over the phone one late evening. It was an early morning call for him, due to the timezones, but he remembers it clearly. He brushed it off, telling his wife that it's getting late over back home and that she should go and get some sleep while she can. But right now, assessing the current situation, he is not so sure about his previous judgement. Long gone is the time he was scared of being a bad parent, of fucking up. He's come to realization that he will inevitably fuck up - not in the same way as his parents, but in a completely new and original way. The fact they were blessed with twins making it that more likely to happen. He's hugging and caressing one daughter, while eyeing the other. Olivia has this look in her face and his stomach sinks down deeply, because he has seen this look before. In the mirror, many times. He was what most would consider a peaceful quiet child. Unless it was him and his sister alone. He'd tease her mercilessly, wait for her to start crying and then play innocent. His parents fell for that so easily.

And now, he's looking at his own daughter, who stares right back at him, and they both know. He shakes his head, making sure Maya does not see and while it does make him mad, it makes him less mad that it should. Because ultimately, he knows that him and his sisters grew up just fine and this teasing eventually stopped. Still, his other daughter is wallowing in his arms and he can't ignore that.

Maya is the first one to speak. "Daddy...I don't want to have a baby," she leans back from his embrace and pouts at him in a way only seven year old know how. So raw, honest and unfiltered.

Lando must have misheard her. “Come again, sweetheart?”

He brushes few tears away. At least she’s not sobbing anymore and is focused on trying to get the words out. “I don’t want to have a baby, I’m too young for that”.

It’s hard not to agree with that. She is seven years old.

He smiles gently, trying to somehow untangle this. "Why would you have a baby?" Another stream of tears and cries follows and she wraps herself in his arms again. He sighs, as it is does not get easier with time to hear your little daughter cry and he looks up to Olivia, who's still sitting on her bed. He's not mad per say, but he's silently asking her to help him find an answer to this all. This is the first time that Liv's expression shakes up and cracks away, hinting on either guilt or at least a sorrow she feels at the sight of her own twin crying. Good, Lando thinks. He tries as much as he can to avoid automatically blaming her for anything without having enough information about the situation. But, his it's hard to ignore his intuition.

He turns to Maya again. "Sweetie, why would you have a baby? You're so young?"

Maya's voice trips over her own sobs, but she finally speaks again. "I...I kissed a boy today."

Now - hold on. First of all, why is his seven year old daughter kissing some boys? He feels himself tense up. Of course he knew this days would come, but he was silently hoping for ten more years of keeping his little angels as they were. Just young, tiny kids running around playing tag. Not kissing boys, girls or whomever. "Who did you kiss?" he can't stop himself from asking, silently hoping he does not know the parent of said boy, because there is no way of preventing himself from making the "concerned parent phone call". Monte Carlo is small, there is only few nursery schools around here. It's an everyone sort of knows everyone kind of situation. "Maya, don't worry - you're not in trouble," he adds, trying to make sure he keeps up on having his daughter willing to tell him stuff like that. She is not in trouble - the boy is. Lando used to be a boy. He knows what's up.

Maya's lip is trembling and her eyes are wet. He can't bear that sight. "Sweetheart, you're not pregnant. I'm sure of that," he consoles her and after few moments of deep thought, she seems to believe him. She ask once more for confirmation. His answered is interrupted by his other daughter, who now looks equally concerned as Maya was just a minute ago.

"But she is pregnant. That's how it works. Boys at the playground said so," she speaks, oh-so-sure of her claims. He face is serious and has a sense of fatality around it. He begins to understand how other children would fall so deeply under this spell.

Ah, Lando thinks and the penny drops. He runs his hands through his hair and has to chuckle just a bit. He doesn't want Maya to think he’s making fun of her, but the absurdity of the situation is too much. He leans back on his heels, looking between his two daughters. Maya’s face is still flushed from crying, and Olivia is sitting with her arms crossed, looking like a pint-sized prophet of doom.

He clears his throat, trying to sound as serious as possible. "Okay, let's get something straight out of the way. Kissing someone is not how you get pregnant," he speaks and his mind briefly flashes to the panic he and Y/N felt the moment they found out she was pregnant with the twins. It's been a long time ago and enlightening journey since, but he can somewhat understand the sentiment. He tries to ground his children down some more. "Look at me and Mommy. We kiss all the time and she is not pregnant, right?"

Olivia seems intrigued. "So, how do you get pregnant?" He looks at her and curses himself for walking right into that one. It's clear in her face and maneurism that she is going to be a very difficult teenager one day. "Ask Mommy when she comes back," he blurts out, not at all prepared for that talk. He's also already mentally ordering apology bouquet for his dear wife for throwing her under a bus like that. He turns to Maya again. "Anyway, you don't worry. You're not pregnant," he caresses her cheek and once she really does seem more calm, he asks. "Now - who kissed you?"

Maya glances at Olivia, and Lando notices his other daughter watching with laser focus. Olivia’s lips are pressed tightly together, her expression that of someone who knows something and is dying to spill it.

“Do you want me to tell him?” Olivia asks suddenly, looking unable to contain herself any longer.

“Liv,” Lando says with a sigh, shooting her a warning look.

“What? I already know who it was,” Olivia says, folding her arms across her chest with a dramatic flair that only a seven-year-old can pull off. He averts his gaze to Maya, who looks like is ready to fess up.

"You're not in trouble," he says and hopes he can keep up on his promise.

She tenses up and something tells Lando he actually does not want to know. "It was Lucas." Too late. “Lucas,” he repeats, his voice carefully neutral.

Maya nods slowly, her cheeks flushing pink. “Lucas Verstappen,” she specifies. Lando feels his stomach drop. Max Verstappen’s son. Of all the boys in the world, it had to be Lucas, the mini version of the Verstappen gang and what one would call a true heir of their infamous blunt approach to life. If this is true, it marks the beginning of a lifetime of headaches. His poor, sweet little daughter - one he'll have to protect until forever.

"And she kissed him too!" Olivia nearly screams out, letting her opinion on this known by the judgy tone.

Lando eyes grow wide and he silently thankful for Olivia spilling it like it is. Maya's guilt ridden face gives it away all. "Maya, honey, aren't you a little young to be kissing boys?" he asks rhetorically, because of course - his little angel should definitely not be doing that.

"I would never kiss a boy! They are gross and annoying," Olivia blurts out, ever-so-competitive. He's not sure what scares him more, Maya who's running around kissing boys or Olivia, who reminds him of himself more each passing day. Let's see about that, Liv, when in ten years I'm warding off boys from your window, he thinks, but does not say it out loud.

"He kissed me first!" Maya defends herself and snuggles into Lando's embrace more. He sighs. It's not been the quiet chill down he expected to return to.

"Okay, ladies. Let's all calm down. How about some ice-cream?" he offers, hoping that cheap bribing will buy him some time to think. The sudden cheers confirm it and he's adding another five flowers to the bouquet for Y/N, knowing she won't condone this.

//

He's watching his daughters munch on the impromptu ice-cream sundae, both of them sitting silently on the kitchen counter, apparently dead set on destroying their pajamas with colorful stains.

The name Verstappen still rings in his ears. They're suppose to have a little family get together tomorrow and for some reason, that's starting to increasingly bother him.

He excused himself for a moment and goes to the balcony, making what he fears is one of the first distressed "my daughter kissed someone" call in his life - and not the last one. Headache. That's what it is.

The phone rings twice before Max picks up, his voice sounding tired and politely annoyed.

“Lando. What’s up, mate? Is it urgent, I'm kind of dead tonight.”

Lando takes a deep breath, trying to sound calm. Oh, you and your son will be dead very soon.

"Hi Max, yeah, it sort of is," he murmurs, trying to think his strategy through. "We have to cancel tomorrow, something came up." Genius. That's who he is. Now, he just has to move his family away from Monte Carlo and make sure Maya never meets Lucas Verstappen ever again. Problem solved.

Max doesn’t miss a beat. "Cancel? What do you mean cancel? Lucas has been talking about seeing the girls all week." Of course he has. Lando groans internally. Of course Lucas has been excited. This wasn’t just any hangout. This was apparently the next chapter in their little playground romance.

"Yeah, not gonna happen, mate," Lando insists, leaning on the balcony railing, running a hand through his hair, overlooking at his dearest angels, who will need his infinite protection. "We can’t do it. Something came up. Okay, bye."

Max is quick enough to speak before he manages to hang up. "Wait, what? If it's a problem for you and Y/N, we can just take care of the kids, no problem."

Is it the whole Verstappen family that wants to take his precious daughters? Lando knows he might be overreacting, but he is a tired man with a resposibility over two seven year old. Cut him some slack.

"No. Canceled. Bye," he says and kills the call. There, all sorted. He immediately goes on figuring out some back up activity for the family, something that will sound so exciting that they will all forget about the Verstappens.

Max calls him right back and he does not pick it up.

The young father goes on putting the girls down, everyone is now calm and there are no more pregnancy scares. He is good at this. Everything is great. Just as the girls are tucked into bed, eyelids drooping and calm finally restored, Lando’s phone buzzes once more. He glances over at it, expecting Max to be trying again. Instead, he sees Y/N’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hi, love,” Lando answers, trying to sound casual. He winks at his daughters, who are always excited when Mommy's around. “How’s dinner?”

“It’s nice,” Y/N replies, but her tone has an edge, the one where he knows she’s about to interrogate him. “How’s everything at home? The girls okay?”

“They’re fine,” Lando says quickly and decides to leave the kids bedroom, so that he can pace around, as he always does when Y/N sounds like that. “All good here. No problems.”

There’s a beat of silence. He can feel her narrowing her eyes through the phone. He can hear the rush of the restaurant she's at, so her calling him must have a pretty good reason.

"Mm hm. So why did you cancel tomorrow’s hangout with Max and his family?"

Lando rolls his eyes, his brain scrambling for an answer while cursing Max mentally. Ugh. “Uh… something came up?”

"What "something," exactly?" Y/N presses, her voice filled with wonder.

"Just… things," Lando says vaguely, mentally kicking himself.

"Things," Y/N repeats flatly. "Lando, Max is suspicious. He just called me, distressed, asking what was going on, and now he thinks you’re mad at him."

This fires him up again. "Well, I am mad at him! So he got that right." Saying this makes him feel like the child in this scenario. Headache. Again.

Y/N sighs. "Did something happen on the track?" he asks patiently.

"What?" he asks, confused. He shakes his head. "No, no, it's um...The girls don't want to meet Lucas tomorrow, that's all."

Even he can't believe his tone.

"The same girls that spent the whole of yesterday excited about the bouncy castle they have at home?" she speaks with almost annoyed tone now. Lando groans, resting his forehead on the cool countertop. He does not have an answer. Just as he's about to fill her in on the whole kissing debacle, he continues. "Look, unless they're sick or something, can you please call Max and talk this out? I'm at the dinner and I can't just spend it all on the phone with my husband and his friend. Call him and talk it out."

Why is life so hard on him? "Do I have to? Can’t we just-"

"Lando," Y/N interrupts firmly. "You canceled without an explanation. You absolutely have to."

"Fine," he says, defeated. "Have a nice dinner, honey. I miss you," he concludes genuinely.

"Me too," Y/N says, her tone softening slightly. "I’ll check in when I’m on my way home. Love you."

"Love you too," Lando mutters, hanging up. He stares at his phone for a moment, then reluctantly dials Max’s number again.

It rings twice before Max answers, his voice dripping with faux innocence.

"Hey man. What the fuck?" Verstappens - always the pleasure.

"Max," Lando starts, rubbing his temple. "How are you? All good?" he asks politely, like the Brit he used to be once.

"What the fuck do you mean, how am I. You cancel out of nowhere and now Lucas won't talk to me, so yeah, great night off for me," he hears unfiltered tone coming through the speaker. He can't say it does not please him a bit.

"Well, it's late, he should be sleeping anyway," Lando let's out of his mouth before he thinks that through, ragging Max even further.

"You stop giving me instructions on how to raise my child and act like an adult for a moment, would you?"

"If someone should act more adult, it's Lucas," Yeah, Lando. Great comeback. Wow. The eight year old should act more like an adult.

Max manages to brush over that. "Did he do something to the twins? You need to tell me these things, how am I suppose to fix it if I don't know what happened? Or if something has even happened?"

It's hard to fight that logic. Especially after the evening Lando has had today. Lando sighs. There’s no way out of this, so he decides to just rip off the band-aid. "Maya told me… that Lucas kissed her. The silence on the other end is deafening. "And she kissed him back," Lando adds, cringing.

Max’s response is immediate: he bursts into laughter. "Oh, my God," Max wheezes. "Lucas and Maya? That’s amazing."

"It's anything but amazing, Max,” Lando snaps, pacing around again. "She thought she was pregnant because of something the kids on the playground told her! Do you know how much emotional damage I’ve endured in the past hour?"

Max is still laughing, clearly delighted. "Mate, you’re overreacting. They’re small. It’s harmless."

"This is the first boy she’s kissed, Max!" Lando argues. "Your son is now part of her origin story!"

"Oh, please," Max says, still chuckling. "What do you think is going to happen? They’ll run away together? They’re kids, Lando. Relax. It's normal for the to do this."

"I can’t relax," Lando grumbles. "And what’s worse, Olivia is now convinced she’s never falling in love because, and I quote, "boys are gross.""

Max cackles again. "Honestly, that’s probably for the best. Liv’s smart."

Lando's cup of patience, small one to begin with, is truly overflowing.

"Alright, alright," Max says, finally calming down and sensing that teasing Lando is not the way to go about it tonight. "Look, Lucas is a good kid. He probably just thought Maya looked pretty and didn’t know how else to say it. I’ll talk to him, alright? But you don’t need to cancel tomorrow over this."

Lando hesitates, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He knows they would all team up against him anyway. He lost this one. "You’re sure he won’t try anything else?"

Max snorts. "What, like propose? No, Lando, I don’t think so. He’s seven."

Fine.

//

The sound of children’s laughter fills the Verstappens’ backyard, the air warm and bright with sunlight. Like it's all mocking Lando specifically. The infamous bouncy castle stands in all its glory. Lando leans against a chair at the patio table, his arms crossed as he surveys the scene with the intensity of investors watching their car getting overtaken on track.

Maya and Lucas are bouncing together, grinning ear to ear like they’ve completely forgotten the events of yesterday. Meanwhile, Olivia stands off to the side, arms crossed and nose wrinkled in distaste, looking like she’s silently judging the entire scenery. She’s probably drafting her manifesto on why boys are, indeed, “gross.” Lando feels proud. At least one of his daughters is strong enough not to fall for cheap boy's tricks. Not even Y/N seems to understand the gravity of the situation. No matter how long Lando spent trying to explain it to her. Cute, that's what she called it. He hopes this is not a precedent. For now, he stands alone.

"You’re watching them like a prison guard," Y/N comments, nudging Lando gently as she sits down beside him.

"And for good reason," Lando replies, narrowing his eyes at Lucas, who’s apparently successfull at making Maya laugh. "He’s already made a move once. I’m not letting it happen again." He will sit happily sit in every playground they happen to encounter each other at.

Y/N hides her smile behind her coffee cup. "I think we’re safe for now. They’re just kids, Lando. You don’t have to treat Lucas like he’s some F1 rival trying to steal pole position from you."

"He is trying to steal something," Lando grumbles under his breath. Max strolls over, holding a plate of snacks, like the responsible dad he pretends to play, and looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Enjoying the show?"

Lando gives him a side-eye glare. "You think this is funny, don’t you?" Max smirks, popping a grape into his mouth and just nods.

"Your son traumatized my daughters yesterday," Lando fires away.

Max rolls his eyes. "And now they’re bouncing around like best friends again. Kids bounce back back. In this case, literally." Oh, he thinks he's so funny.

As if on cue, Lucas lands a little too close to Maya, sending both of them tumbling onto the floor of the bouncy castle in a fit of giggles. Lando tenses, halfway out of his seat before Y/N grabs his arm.

"Relax," she whispers. "It's fine." "For now," Lando protests, settling back reluctantly. From across the yard, Lucas suddenly stands up and calls out: "Mr. Norris!" Lando freezes, his eyes narrowing as the devil child approaches him. "What?" Lucas grins, holding up a flower he’s picked from the garden. He's rushing over to his and hands it to Lando, eyes filled with expectation and anticipation. "This is for Maya!" Speechless Lando accepts the flower, albeit confused as to why he's handing the flower to him and not to Maya, if she's the supposent recipient. Lucas flashes one look towards his father and in the corner of the eye, Lando can see Max nod approvingly. They really have all teamed up against him. Everyone is watching them and waiting for something exiting to happen. Olivia, the only one having Lando's back, lets out an audible groan loud enough to be heard across the yard.

"Oh, come on," she says, throwing her hands in the air. “This is ridiculous. I’m never falling in love. Ever!”

Y/N snorts into her coffee, Max doubles over laughing, and Lando buries his face in his hands. Meanwhile, happy Lucas runs back to the bouncing castle.

"Why is my life like this?" he wonders, looking up the sky for answers. None come. Y/N pats his shoulder affectionately. "Because you’re the dad of two amazing girls. And one of them might have a little crush. It’s not the end of the world."

"It’s the beginning of the end," Lando mumbles dramatically. Max grins, leaning closer. "You know, if Lucas and Maya end up together, we’ll officially be family. Imagine that, Lando," he pauses dramatically. "Maya Verstappen."

Lando's stomach turns upside down, he groans and turns to Y/N. "We're moving to another continent."

The domestic afternoon continues, adults laughing and talking - apart form Lando, who sits in his observant position, regularly sighing, back leaning and forth in his chair. It’s going to be a long, chaotic road ahead. And it looks like he's the only sane person around - in his opinion exclusively.

----------------------- note: fire up them ideas for this pseudo series!!! love you all

[rizzanon]

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m.list | prev | next

The door slammed open so hard it reverberated through the sterile hospital room. Bruce didn’t flinch. He barely blinked. He just sat there, slumped in the hard plastic chair, his hand resting on yours—cold and lifeless beneath his touch.

“What the fuck am I looking at?”

Bruce didn’t answer, didn’t lift his head.

“Bruce.”

Nothing.

The last fraying thread snapped. The figure crossed the room in a hearbeat, and the next thing Bruce registered was a fist colliding with his jaw.

Crack.

Bruce hit the ground with a heavy thud, his head snapping to the side as the impact split his lip and bruised the skin around his cheekbone. He didn’t move to defend himself, didn’t even try to stand. He just lay there on the cold tile, blood pooling in his mouth, the metallic tang sharp on his tongue.

He deserved this.

“Get up,” Jason spat, towering over him. His chest rose and fell like a man drowning in rage. “Get the fuck up!”

Bruce pushed himself into a seated position, back against the chair he’d fallen from. Slowly, he wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Jason…”

“What the hell happened? Tell me, Bruce. Tell me why—“ Jason’s voice shook as he gestured wildly toward your body. You, lying there on the hospital bed, covered with a sheet up to your chest. Still. Too still.

“Tell me why the hell am I looking at her like this?!”

Bruce closed his eyes for a moment, his own voice hoarse, like gravel scraping against stone. “She went after a drug ring. Alone.”

Jason froze. A muscle ticked in his jaw, his eyes blazing. “What?”

Bruce hands dropped into his lap, empty and useless. “She tracked them down herself. She found out where they were moving shipments. I don’t know when she left—by the time I realized, it was already too late. She—“

“And you let her??!” Jason’s shout rang through the small room, loud enough that the walls almost shook. He pointed at Bruce, his hand trembling. “You let her go after them?! Alone?!”

“She didn’t tell me.”

“She didn’t tell you?” Jason’s voice cracked, raw and vicious. He let out a bitter, humourless laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me, Bruce? You’re BATMAN. You’re supposed to KNOW when this kind of shit is about to go down!”

Bruce finally lifted his gaze to Jason, his face haggard, the bruising around his jaw already deepening. “She didn’t tell me, Jason,” he repeated quietly, like the words were an admission of failure. “She went on her own.”

Jason’s fists clenched at his sides, knucles white. “You should’ve known she’d do this! You should’ve stopped her! You’re supposed to keep her safe—that was your job!”

Jason’s voice cracked again on the last word, and Bruce couldn’t meet his eyes.

“She made her choice.”

“Bullshit!” Jason snarled, stepping forward like he might hit him again.

He should, he thinks.

“She shouldn’t have had to make that choice. She wouldn’t have done it if she thought she didn’t have to. She—“ Jason’s voice faltered for the first time, his fury cracking around the edges, breaking apart into something more brittle. He turned his head sharply toward your still form, his chest heaving.

Jason’s voice dropped, quiet and shaking. “She’s dead.”

The words hung in the air, terrible and final.

You were dead.

His sister was dead.

Jason let out a shaky breath, raking a hand through his hair. He turned toward the wall, his vision blurring, the tight knot in his chest turning into something he couldn’t contain. Before he knew it, his fist collided with the drywall, the sound loud and violent as it split under the force.

“Goddamnit!” Jason’s voice broke, raw and thick, the cracks in the wall mirroring the fractures in his heart. His chest heaved, his legs suddenly feeling too weak to hold him. He stumbled back a step, then two, before his knees hit the ground.

Bruce didn’t move.

Jason leaned back against the cracked wall, his forehead dropping against his knees as he struggled to breathe through the sickening weight pressing down on him. His voice was barely audible now, a broken rasp.

“She’s dead,” he whispered again, like saying it out loud would make it easier to believe. “Damnit, Bruce, she’s gone. She’s gone.”

He was furious at Bruce. For allowing this to happen. First him, then Alfred, and now… you.

He was furious at himself. If he’d just been there…. If he hadn’t stayed away like a selfish coward, like he thought pushing you away would protect you, like he thought pushing you away would make you drop the mantle, maybe—maybe—this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe you wouldn’t be lying there, cold and lifeless.

“Goddamnit,” Jason choked out, his fingers gripping his hair as he tried to keep himself from shattering completely. “I should’ve stopped her. I should’ve been there.”

Bruce, still on the floor across from him, watched Jason quietly. His voice, when it came, was low and rough. “I promised myself I wouldn’t fail her.”

Jason’s head snapped up, his eyes red-rimmed, furious. “You did. You failed her.”

He bowed his head down, and gritted his teeth. “….And I did too.”

With that, Jason fell silent. He stayed there, crumpled on the floor, staring at your lifeless form as the weight of it all—your death, Bruce’s failure, his own failure, his regrets—settled over him like a suffocating shroud.

And for the first time in a long time, Jason didn’t know how to pick himself back up.

The night was deceptively calm, a quiet blanket over Gotham that felt almost serene. But Dick’s heart was anything but that. It hammered in his chest like a war drum, each beat fueling the storm that raged inside him. In the shadowed alleys and dimly lit streets, he moved like a storm, tearing through the remnants of the drug ring that belied the peaceful night.

Every punch, every kick was driven by something deeper—something raw and consuming. His movements were precise, brutal, and unrelenting, each strike a wordless scream of anguish. This wasn’t just justice. It wasn’t even revenge.

This was the drug ring you had been chasing. The one responsible for your death.

And Dick wasn’t stopping until they felt the full weight of what they had taken from him.

One of the thugs came at him with a crowbar, swinging wildly. Dick ducked low, his movements precise, and drove his elbow into the man's ribs. The thug stumbled, wheezing, but before he could recover, Dick caught him with a roundhouse kick to the temple. He went down hard, blood streaking his face.

Another rushed him from behind, but Dick anticipated it, pivoting sharply and catching the man's wrist mid-swing. He wrenched it back with brutal efficiency, the crack of bone echoing in the alley. The man screamed, but Dick silenced him with a punch to the throat, sending him crumpling to the ground.

A third lunged at him with a knife, slashing at his chest. Dick sidestepped, grabbed the thug by the wrist, and twisted hard enough to disarm him. The blade clattered to the ground as Dick's fist connected with his jaw, snapping the thug's head back. He didn't let up, grabbing the man by the collar and slamming him into the nearest wall.

“Where are the rest of you?” Dick snarled, his voice venomous. The man whimpered, struggling against his grip, but before he could answer, another figure charged at Dick.

This one didn't even make it close. Dick spun, releasing the man he'd been holding and delivering a brutal flying knee to the newcomer's chest. The thug crumpled on impact, choking and gasping for air. The alley was littered with bodies-groaning, bloodied, broken.

But it wasn't enough.

It would never be enough.

Dick's eyes locked on the last thug, the one who'd been cowering in the shadows, trying to make a quiet escape. His boots crunched on the asphalt as he closed the distance, his heart pounding in his chest like a war drum. The man froze, wide-eyed, as Dick grabbed him by the front of his jacket and slammed him against the wall.

“Where's the rest of your crew?” Dick growled, his voice low and dangerous.

“I-I don't—“

The man's excuse was cut off as Dick slammed him against the wall again, harder this time.

“Don't lie to me,” Dick hissed, his grip tightening. His knuckles were already sore and bloodied, but he barely noticed.

“Where are they?”

The thug whimpered, trembling under Dick's glare. “Warehouse... on 14th... Please, man, I'm just—”

“Shut up.” Dick's voice was ice, his eyes dark with fury. He raised his fist, ready to deliver another blow, but a voice crackled in his ear, sharp and commanding.

“Nightwing!”

Dick froze, his fist hovering in the air.

“Dick, that's enough!” Barbara's voice was firm, but there was a crack in it—a tremor that cut through the haze of rage clouding his mind. “They're down. He's down. You've got what you need.”

For a moment, Dick didn't move, his chest heaving, his fist still trembling in the air. Then, slowly, he let the man drop. The thug collapsed to the ground, coughing and clutching his chest, too terrified to move. Dick turned away, his hands shaking as he secured the thugs with cuffs. He didn't bother calling it in to the GCPD. He just fired his grappling hook and ascended to the nearest rooftop, the wind whipping at his face as the adrenaline began to fade.

And then the guilt hit.

The rooftop was silent save for the distant hum of Gotham below. Dick leaned heavily against the ledge, staring down at the city that had taken so much from him. He pressed two fingers to his comm.

“Oracle,” he rasped, his voice raw. “You there?”

“I'm here.”

There was a beat of silence before Dick spoke again, his voice trembling. “I should've been there, Babs. I should've been there for her.”

Barbara's breath hitched over the comm. “Dick—”

“I was supposed to protect her.” The words came out sharp, biting, the anguish behind them bleeding through. “I'm her big brother, Barbara. I'm supposed to protect my family. Protect her.” His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms hard enough to break skin. “But I wasn't there. I wasn't there, and now, she's...” His voice cracked, the rest of the sentence dying in his throat.

Barbara's voice was soft but steady. “You couldn't have known, Dick. You were-”

“Don't,” he snapped, his anger flaring again. “Don't tell me I couldn't have known. I should have known. I should've been paying attention. I was in Bludhaven, dealing with lowlifes while she was...” He trailed off, his chest heaving as he struggled to find the words.

“She was dying, Babs,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I wasn't there. (Name) is dead.”

Barbara was silent for a moment, and when she spoke, her voice was laced with pain. “You're not the only one who feels this, Dick. Don't act like you're the only one who lost her.”

Dick let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You don't get it—”

“Don't I?” Barbara's voice cracked, sharp and raw.

Dick froze, his breath catching.

“She died as Batgirl,” Barbara said, her tone trembling with emotion. “She died wearing my mantle. Do you think I don't blame myself for that? Do you think I don't feel like it's my fault she's gone?”

Dick turned, guilt twisting in his gut as he heard the crack in her voice.

“She was under my guidance,” Barbara continued, her voice rising. “She was wearing my symbol. That's on me, Dick. Just like how you thought Jason’s death was on you.”

Dick flinched at the name, his chest tightening painfully. That was a low blow. A low moment in his life in which he didn’t want to go through again. But here he was—

“So don't you dare think for a second that I don't understand,” Barbara said, her voice breaking now. “Because I do. I know exactly how this feels for you. Every second of each day, I feel it. And it’s killing me inside.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Finally, Dick spoke, his voice barely audible. “I can't lose another one of us, Babs. I can't. Jason came back, but she...” His voice cracked again. “(Name)’s not coming back.”

Barbara's voice softened, though her pain was still evident. “I know.”

Dick closed his eyes, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him like a physical force. “This is my fault, Babs” he admitted, his voice trembling.

“Not just yours… mine as well,” Barbara replied, her voice thick with emotion.

For a moment, neither of them said anything, the silence between them heavy with shared grief.

there was too much fluff (mlb asks + uf trio asks) posted tdy, i needed to balance it out 🥰🫶 i love it when dick goes feral in the comics lol (its hot)

taglist (1/2): @tricksters-maze @dusk-muse @quethekillerqueen @silverklaus @isupportorbitalbombardment @nxdxsworld @vanessa-boo @coffeeaddictxd @moonsbluekingdom @yuya-bubbly @percythebitchwitch @anonymousdisco @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @redsakura101 @what-0-life @idkwhattoputhete @secretyouthcomputer @witch-waycult @allycat4458 @dazed-lavender @eclecticfurylady @wizzerreblogs @marsmabe @daddysfangirls-dc @hoeinthehouse @beeweensblog @ilxandra @agent-nobody-knows @thethingwiththefeathers @mochiivqi @pix-stuff @narration-ator @nebulousmoon3990 @delias-stuff @froggy-voidd @jjsmeowthie @kore-of-the-underworld @nen-nyy @juthesillylesbain @vikkus-main @emilylouise123 @blueiones @horror-lover-69 @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wassupbroski55555 @reallyromealone @plsfckmedxddy @sea-glasses @203moonysello @luvly-writer @dovey-quacks2332 @love-theangel @hotdinoankles @vebbiewuzhere @animegirlfromvietnam @estreiiuh @simply-lovely78 @twismare @ssak-i @g4bbi3xx @alor-thes

[gyaruhana]

Can you do a smut fic where readers dating thanos and she nearly dies in red light green light, and they realise how dangerous the games are and fuck like it’s their last night together? Im talking pure need and lust, desperation after realising the stakes of the squid games

Thanos / Choi Su-bong - I love you

Synopsis: After witnessing so much death and realizing you may both be next, you decide to fuck in the bathroom.

A/N: combined this with two other requests asking for bathroom sex.. i hope that was okay !! also not entirely proof read..

Warnings: smut content, fingering, praise, he's more gentle tbh

You had never feared death before. It always seemed so far away and it was the least of your concerns considering the debt you and your boyfriend, Thanos, share after betting it all on some coin a youtuber recommended. Never once in your life had you thought you would actually die. You always imagined that you'd die at an old age in a fancy house- maybe even with a kid or two. Point is, you didn't think about death because you really didn't see any need to.

Until today that is. 

You and your boyfriend had come across a great opportunity to earn lots of won by playing a few games. Considering you had already earned quite a bit from a game of ddakji, it was a no-brainer to agree to a few games. At the time, it didn't seem suspicious because the salesman who offered the card to you had given you plenty of won without a catch. 

Although you were knocked out with a gas when you entered the designated car together and practically kidnapped, neither of you thought anything about it- too excited at the idea of making money to pay off your debt with a few games. Any money goes a long way to finally paying off your debt so you can focus on getting your dream life.

Idiotically enough, you also didn't find any suspicion in the guy yelling something about how you'll be shot if you move. It actually made you and Thanos laugh at the ridiculousness of it as you both assumed he was just some drunk making up shit to scare people. How wrong the both of you were.

By the time everyone had made it to the halfway mark with plenty of time to spare, Thanos saw a bee land on some girl and made a comment about it. The girl immediately let out a scream and moved to try to get the bee off of her. It was amusing to watch until the sound of a gunshot rang through the air and her body fell to the floor. 

The smile on both your faces dropped immediately as blood pooled around her now-dead body. You and Thanos stood deadly still as people started to scream and run away out of fear. Every gunshot made your heart drop further because that could be you or him. The idea one of you might die right now was sickening for the both of you. 

The moment the sound of shooting stopped, the doll turned out and called green light again. Thanos quickly reached for his necklace while walking forward, desperately needing to be high right now so he could try to pretend like this wasn't really happening. Meanwhile, you didn't move a muscle - too afraid you might die here. You didn't want to be shot too.

The doll turned its head and called out red light making everyone freeze again. Another gunshot rang out making you flinch but thankfully the doll didn't notice the small movement. When it turned around again, Thanos put the pill in his mouth before closing his necklace and looking behind him. You still weren't moving, making him worry. You didn't have time to just stand there, you had to get going and make it to the end.

“What are you doing? You have to move,” Thanos spoke out as he gestured for you to come over to him. He kept still when the doll announced red light again but he kept his eyes on yours. He couldn't have you just stand there until your inevitable death. The moment the players could move again, Thanos ran toward you and grabbed your wrist before pulling you along with him. 

With Thanos dragging you along, you both managed to make it to the end before the time ran out. The relief the two of you shared was only there momentarily. You may have survived this game but what's to say you'll survive the next game? There was no guarantee. In fact, you weren't even confident in yourself that you'd survive the next game. After all, you only got through this because Thanos had dragged you to the end. 

As if sensing your fear, Thanos looked at you and cupped your face with his hands. “Don't look so stressed, baby. We're fine,” he spoke as he gently caressed your cheek. You gave a small smile at his words but the fear didn't disappear. He let out a sigh before tapping your cheek twice and removing his hands. He knew there wasn't much he could say to make this any better. It was a lot to handle, that was for sure. The only reason he was calm was because he had popped a pill the moment the first person died. 

As the players were slowly led back to the main room which they had awoken in, Thanos took your hand to keep you close to him. Despite the drugs he had taken, he was still pretty stressed about the whole ordeal. Mostly because of you. He couldn't fathom the idea of you getting shot like those other idiots in the last game. He'd definitely go crazy if you got hurt so he needed to keep you close to him. 

Even after you were already in the room, his hand still kept a firm grip on yours as if you might disappear should he let go. You didn't mind though. If anything, his hand squeezing yours was a huge comfort. A silent reminder that he wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon. It made you feel significantly calmer to be close to him.

He led you to the back of the room and sat you down on the bed before sitting down next to you, his legs crossed with his hand still in yours. He looks at you for a few moments, analyzing your face and trying to read your thoughts. He didn’t like the way your eyes lingered on your lap instead of him so he raised a hand and tilted your chin upwards to make you look at him.

“Baby, you good?” he asks even though he already knew the answer to that question. You were quite far from good after all the blood you had seen. “Am i good?” you say sarcastically, mocking his own words. “Of course, I’m not! I just saw people die! Too many! Fuck, that could’ve been me or you,” you speak, your stress about the whole situation evident in your face and tone. “You gotta relax. We’re fine. Besides we’ll get out of here soon,” he says reassuringly as he looks at you with worry.

You let out a sigh and shake your head as you look to the side- away from him. It was quiet for a few moments as Thanos waited for you to say something else, knowing that you were thinking something. “What if we don’t?” you finally say as you look back at him again. “Don’t say that,” he speaks as his face hardens slightly at the idea that you might die. Fuck, he couldn’t bear the thought of you laying lifeless. “Not saying it doesn’t make it any less of a possibility,” you respond with a frown. He knows that you’re right. It’s a possibility that he can’t just ignore.

“I swear on my life that I will protect you,” he says with a sincere look on his face. It didn’t make you feel any better though because swearing on his life in a game where he could actually die wasn’t a good thing. “Don’t say that,” you speak, repeating his earlier words as your face hardens. You didn’t want him to even think about sacrificing his life for you. You couldn’t see what you’d do without him. 45.6 billion was useless if he couldn’t be there with you to spend it. 

“Okay,” he says with a small smirk as he raises his hand in mock surrender. “I’ll swear on the sun and the moon instead,” he said as he lowered his hands. His words were enough to make you smile a little. Him swearing on the sun and the moon was plenty more significant then others may think. He swore on the sun and the moon he’d treat you right when he first asked you to be his. He swore on the sun and the moon to always be there for you after a particularly bad day when you lost your dad. Most of all, he swore on the sun and the moon that he’d buy a nice house and you could get married and live happily ever after together. He never ever took the name of the sun and moon in vain and that’s why hearing him say it now made you feel just a little better about the current situation.

Thanos looked behind himself for a moment before back at you. “Hey.. if swearing on the sun and moon isn’t enough for you, I could show you how serious I am,” he says with a small smirk. It didn’t take an idiot to know what he meant by that. “..what exactly does that mean?” you question even though you already knew exactly what he meant. There was a spark of desire in his eyes that matched yours as his hand gripped yours tightly. “I don’t have to tell you for you to know,” he says before standing up and pulling you up from the bed with him. 

He drags you towards the door on the right side of the room and bangs on it loudly. “Hey, open up. Bathroom needed,” he says and the door opens after a moment. “Ladies first,” he says with a smirk as he steps out of the way to let you go in first. You shake your head, an amused smile playing on your face as you walk in. The guard led you both down the hallway and to the bathroom. Thanos didn’t waste any time in pushing past that door, dragging you behind him. 

With his patience wearing thin, he quickly pulled you into a kiss. It was unlike his usual kisses that were rough and involved his tongue jammed down your throat. This kiss was more passionate as if he was trying to say something words could never convey properly. He quickly pushed you back into one of the stalls and kicked the door closed behind him, locking it with one of his hands. He spun you around and pushed your back against the stall wall. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he mumbles after pulling away momentarily. He stares at you silently - memorizing every feature of your face. He could never get enough of how pretty you were. It felt like a miracle someone like you was with a dickhead like him. He couldn’t help but admire you. “..What? Is something wrong?” you say as you look at him with concern. You didn’t expect him to just stare at you out of nowhere and it was a little embarrassing. 

He shakes his head as he snaps out of his trance. “No, sorry. Just thinking about how fucking lucky I am,” he says before kissing you again like it’s the last time he could ever get to kiss you. In his mind, it damn well could be. One of you really could be dead by tomorrow evening and then that was it. He’d never see you smile or laugh again or look at him like he was the most important thing in the world. The thought was sickening. No matter how confident or cocky he’d act, he was still just Choi Su-bong. And Choi Su-bong was undeniably yours.

You put your arms around his neck as you kissed him back - the feeling of his hands on your waist keeping you in the moment and erasing any memory of the earlier events just for now. His hands slipped under your shirt to feel your skin before he pulled away from the kiss and opted for leaving kisses on your neck instead. He sucked at the skin so delicately and slowly, trying to savor his time with you as much as possible. His lips paused for a moment when they hovered over your pulse point before he kissed the area and bit it softly to mark you right above your pulse so he could feel your heart beat quicker - a silent confirmation that you were still very much alive. 

His hands trailed down to the waistband of your pants before he tugged them down till they dropped to the floor. His hand then pulled your underwear down too, not wanting to waste time with foreplay with the limited time you two shared together. His index finger gently traced over your clit making a moan escape the back of your mouth. “You’re already wet for me? God - I can just skip ahead then, yeah?” he says as he pulls his hand to pull his pants down along with his boxers. 

“Not even a little prep?” you question as you look at him. He laughs quietly before nodding his head. “Fine, but you better cum quick - I need to feel you,” he speaks as one of his hands finds its way to your hole again. He carefully rubs his fingers back and forth before slipping in a finger. His free hand went to cover your mouth when a moan escaped as he couldn’t risk the guard outside the bathrooms hearing and breaking up this moment with you. 

“Gotta be quiet, baby,” he says as he starts to finger you. You nod your head as you try to keep as quiet as possible. He inserts another finger and begins to quicken the pace in which he thrusted his fingers in and out of you. He kept his eyes on your face, loving your reactions to his fingers deep inside your aching core. He had always observed you like this but there was something different about it now that you two had each other to lose. Everything was so much more passionate than usual. You found that your release came much quicker this time around as you released on his fingers. 

“God, you’re so good for me,” he says as he pulls his fingers out slowly before bringing them to his mouth and tasting you. He held eye contact with you as he sucked his fingers clean before leaning down and kissing you again, his hand finding its place on the back of your neck to keep you close. He slowly lined himself up with you, his tip rubbing against your entrance making him let out a small groan. 

He slowly pushed into you, burying his face into your neck as he stretched you out with his dick. He let out a heavy huff at the feeling of being inside you. It felt euphoric. You were so unbelievably tight as he continued to inch himself further in. You let out a moan that was muffled by his hand as he finally pushed in the rest of his dick with one stroke. “You good?” he asks as he pulls his head away from your neck and looks at you. You were still for a few moments before you nodded your head - finally adjusting to the stretch.

The moment you nodded your head, he slipped out before thrusting right back in. He let out a low groan as he repeated the movement over and over, making sure you could feel every inch of his cock deep inside you. You leaned your head back against the stall door as he thrusted in and out of you with a quick pace. His hands grab at your hips roughly to keep you still while he thrusts in and out of your tight hole. “God.. Holy fucking shit,” he mumbled under his breath as the sound of skin hitting skin echoed through the bathroom. He loved being deep inside you like this. It felt so fucking good. Even more so now because it was a way to reassure himself you were still here with him and not one of the many corpses he saw earlier.

The thought you could be dead soon spurred him on to fuck you harder. He hated that possibility. He didn’t want to think about that. He just wanted to think about you. How your head was thrown back, how your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, how you tried to keep quiet but struggled because he made you feel so good. He loved every fucking part of you - you were perfect.

"Fuck - I love you. Do you hear me? I love you so fucking much. Please say it back" he spoke as he thrusted into you quickly, his pace getting sloppy as he drew ever-so closer to a sweet release. God, he wanted to fill you up with his cum but he needed to hear you say that you loved him like he loved you. He needed to know you cared for him and wouldn’t leave him anytime soon. You nodded your head before forcing yourself to look him in the eyes. “I-I love you too,” you speak and the groan he lets out is so loud.

He immediately releases with one last thrust, making sure his cum spills deep inside of you. You released along with him with a moan and you both stilled. It was quiet for a few moments aside from the heavy breathing that filled the bathroom. He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes as he came down from his high. His hands slowly trailed up from your hips to your face as he gently held your cheeks in his hands.

“I love you,” he repeats as he opens his eyes and looks into yours. There was very much a different kind of look in his eyes this time. A look that told you how much he really meant what he said. There was a hint of fear in his eyes too as he genuinely feared that he may lose you sooner or later to these stupid games.

“I know,”

[rainy-day-gracie]

- wedding night (2) -

A Venus & Mars mini series

pairing: General Acacius x virgin!wife!Reader

content warning(s): reader insert, no use of y/n, arranged marriage, implied age gap but nothing specific, oral (f recieving), fingering, loss of virginity, piv sex, innocence kink, self indulgent praise kink, Acacius definitely talks you through it, discussions of consent because consent is sexy mandatory, discussion of future sexual acts, AFTERCARE because aftercare is hot, general acacius is in loooooove but doesn't know it yet haha, romantic and intimate as hell, grievous historical inaccuracy because it's fucking fanfiction, canon divergent because duh

a/n: So guys. I saw Gladiator II and it was awesome and Pedro Pascal is the sexiest man alive (in my heart). However, this character's name is not Marcus. I don't know who lied, but we've all been fooled. So in this sequel, the general's name is just Acacius in order to stay at least a little bit true to the actual canon.

I definitely will be writing for these two again because holy shit I made this romantic and I love them so much.

Read wedding night (1) here!

Read bloodlust here!

---

Acacius saw heaven in your eyes, a piece of salvation he never thought he might be able to grasp with his blood-stained hands.

He glanced down your body, wrapped beautifully in your white wedding gown, gold jewelry shining in warm candlelight. For a moment, he wondered Venus herself were tricking him with her immortal seduction.

But the blush of red in your cheeks, the shine of desire in your eyes, the beat of your heart in your chest....

No immortal possibly could mimic such evidence of true, temporary, and precious life.

Acacius had been with plenty women in his lifetime, had thought he understood what desire was.

I want you, you had said.

Now, he thinks he's only scratched the surface.

---

The general-- Acacius -- peered at you like a starving man at a feast, drinking you in, turning the wheels in his head of what he wanted to do first.

He grasped your hand in both of his, studying the golden band on your ring finger. Evidence of your gods-blessed union.

"I want to see you wearing nothing.... except for this," Acacius breathed, his voice low, and dreamy, like the words were slipping from him with no control.

"I'd like that very much," you said, trying to keep your hand from trembling under his touch.

"May I strip you bare, darling?" He asked, calloused fingertips fiddling with the clasp on your golden bracelet.

"Yes."

Instantly, the bracelet fell, and then the other, and then the other. Acacius' gentle touch drove you wild, methodical and sure. He stopped for a moment, glancing at the purity ring on your pinky, and smirked in a way that nearly made your knees buckle.

Glancing back up to your gaze, he held your stare as he pulled the purity ring off. His lips were a hairsbreadth away from yours, letting you smell the sweet cherry wine on his breath.

"Kiss me," you mumbled.

Acacius' smirk remained. "Patience, darling."

He tucked the purity ring into a pocket of his tunic, and turned you around, so your back pressed against his chest. A sigh caught in your throat, realizing he had turned you both to face the full-length mirror in the corner of the bedroom.

"Answer me honestly," he said, trailing one of his knuckles down the exposed skin of your spine. "Have you ever touched yourself?"

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you shivered at his light touch. "Uh..."

"Don't you lie to me, now. It's a great sin to lie to your husband," he whispered, his teeth nipping lightly at your ear.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I- I've touched myself. I've touched... my..."

"Your cunt?" Acacius mused.

You nodded, your chest rising heavily.

"Did you… like it? When you touched yourself?"

"N-no. I've been told it is not ladylike, to... pleasure yourself in that way."

Acacius kissed the back of your neck, making you arch into his touch. "Oh, my poor darling... there's nothing more ladylike in the world. Don't worry... I will show you how."

A full whimper escaped you at that, and Acacius undid the knots of your dress with a chuckle.

The dress fell, leaving you in only your loincloth, tied at your waist. But Acacius was looking at something else.

His eyes were transfixed on your perked breasts, his mouth slightly open as he wrapped one of his hands around the soft flesh. A high-pitched sigh left your throat, and he reached around with his other hand to take hold of the other breast.

"Do you like it when I hold you like this?" Acacius murmured, his mouth at your temple. He twitched his fingertips to pinch your nipples softly, making you close your eyes in pleasure. "Look at me."

Snapping your eyes open again, he stared you down in the mirror with a small devilish grin. He pinched your breasts again, pulling an answer from you. "Yes, Acacius."

"Good girl," he praised, your cunt throbbing at the words. He let go of your breasts, untying the cloth at your hips until you were utterly bare before him, save for your wedding ring. "Lie down on the bed, darling."

He brushed a palm over your plush backside, guiding you towards the beautiful linen bed. Plenty big for two.

You obey with a shy smile, sinking into the blankets and pillows like you were always meant to fit there. Watching from your comfortable bed, Acacius loomed over the foot, undoing buttons on his tunic, and ties on his robes.

Your lips parted slightly as he exposed the tan, scarred skin of his chest, flickering candlelight bathing him in a warm glow. He studied your expressions like a hawk, watching for any sign of discomfort or displeasure.

As he unlaced the toga and loincloth, leaving him as bare as you were, you had to keep yourself from gasping.

His cock hung heavily between his legs, not even fully aroused but still bigger than anything you had anticipated. He wrapped a hand around his manhood, smirking at your expression, but mercifully saying nothing about it.

“I am curious, my wife,” Acacius began, his voice a rumble. He pulled himself onto the marriage bed, caging you in the sheets with his arms and legs straddling. His eyes never left yours. “What did they say about me? When you learned of our union, what whispers crossed your ears?”

You licked your lips, speaking suddenly a challenge. “Um, that you w-were brave…”

Acacius leaned down, pulling one of your legs over his broad shoulders.

“…and strong…”

He mirrored the motion with your other leg, leaving your weeping cunt exposed.

“…a-and…”

Acacius paused, waiting for your answer. “And?”

“General, I shouldn’t speak ill…” you moaned, wondering if one could combust with desire.

“Tell me the truth, darling. Or you won’t get what you so eagerly want.”

“Th-they said you were cruel,” you stammered, desperately, any wall of self preservation coming down. “They said you took anything you desired, washed your hands with blood, and violence was the only language you spoke. Your rage eclipses that of Achilles, and your eyes blacken every time you raise a banner. You are of Mars himself, shedding blood like you were born to it.”

Acacius’ smirk from between your legs was wicked, and he broke your gaze for the first time since lying on the bed.

He studied your open cunt with a glazed expression, like he was lost in the pleasure of staring at your slick desire.

“If I am of Mars then you are of Venus, my darling.”

His words filled you with affection, the way his knees bent on the bed almost like he was worshiping an altar between your legs.

“So pure…” he murmured, as if the words had slipped from his lips.

Your back arched like a bow as he licked a stripe up your soaking slit, sighs escaping from your throat.

Acacius hummed with delight, fucking you on his tongue lazily, drinking your desire like nectar of the gods.

You buried your hands in his hair hesitantly, unsure of what would be pleasing to him. In all the times you eavesdropped on the married women of the court, never once had they mentioned anything like… this. Never once had they mentioned any of the overwhelming pleasure racking every limb of your body. Never once had they mentioned the lightning erupting over your skin with every brush of his calloused palm.

Acacius trailed his hands down your arched torso, cupping your breasts as his mouth traced patterns over your cunt. Your breathy moans made him chuckle into your flesh, the vibrations making you lift your hips with pleasure.

Throbbing built in your pussy, clenching around his tongue as your desire jumped at every brush of his lips.

“A-Acacius, gods…” you cried out, throwing your head back as a pinnacle raced towards you.

“Relax, my darling,” Acacius breathed, bringing one of his hands down to rest at your soft inner thigh. “I’m going to put my hands on you now.”

“Oh, please,” you begged, unsure of what it was you were begging for.

“Tell me if it becomes too much,” Acacius said, and his hand on your thigh moved.

The gentle brush of his rough fingertips on your slick folds had you gasping anew, pulling lightly on the locks of his hair.

“Such a pretty cunt,” Acacius mumbled to himself. “I have half a mind to just keep you like this.”

You whined in protest, your hips chasing his touch.

“So needy for a virgin.”

You threw your head back as his finger pushed past your slick folds, reaching spots inside of yourself that you hadn’t known existed.

“Oh, so tight, my love. You truly are pure.” Acacius curved his finger, brushing against something spongy, and sensitive. A guttural moan escaped your throat, and he laughed softly. “When the pleasure peaks, do not fight it. Let it take you away, somewhere only you and I exist.”

You nodded at his command, closing your eyes as your head sunk into the linen pillows.

Unrestrained cries erupted from you as he pulled his finger out, and in, and out again, hitting that sweet spot with every push inside of your aching cunt.

When he pressed his tongue to the bud at the top of your core, he pushed a second finger deep into your slick, making you wonder if the gods truly did become man. The stretch of his fingers pricked a pain deep within, making you clench tighter around his calloused fingertips. A slight brush of his rough facial hair against your core was your ultimate undoing.

You called out his name as the pleasure rushed down your spine, into your belly, and built in your desperate cunt. He knew it, too, and continued to thrust his fingers deep inside with renewed enthusiasm. His tongue licked against your clit with hunger, tipping you over the edge.

Cries escaped your lips as the pleasure overwhelmed you, every muscle in your body going taut as the desire took over. Your cunt clenched tightly, chasing his fingers, and your spire curved with tension as the wave of lust claimed you.

Acacius watched with a lazy smile as your core squeezed with your orgasm, evidence of your desire dripping off his lips.

“Acacius… Acacius…” you breathed as the climax subsided, your body relaxing into the bed once more.

“How do you feel, darling?” Acacius asked, crawling back up to press his nose against yours. His brown eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with adoration.

In place of an answer, you buried your hands in his curly, soft hair, pressing his lips to yours. He responded instantly, capturing your mouth with the passion of love and war.

His tongue pushed against yours, pure want seeping from every brush of his lips against yours. You gasped as his hands cupped your hips gently, like he was making sure you were a solid thing he could hold in his hands. Like he was worried you might slip through his fingers.

“I want more,” you whispered against his mouth, and he nodded with his eyes closed, like he was dreaming.

“It will hurt for a moment, but I will be gentle with you,” Acacius breathed, trailing light kisses against your throat. “Tell me when there is pain, or if you wish to stop.”

You nodded against his temple, and he pulled his lips back instantly.

“Say you want me, darling. Say you will tell me to stop if you wish.”

The intensity in those brown eyes, the desperation, had you squirming with desire once again.

You held his face in your hands, tracing your thumb against his rough stubble, studying him.

Acacius' nose was utterly Roman, looking like it had possibly been broken once or twice. Every mark on him was evidence of a man that had seen the Underworld and walked away, but not without a few scars to show for it. Though he had been nothing but gentle with you, there was no doubt he could live up to his reputation of bloodletting.

Still, you held him close.

"I want you, Acacius. I will tell you to stop if I wish to." There was no hesitation, no tremor in your voice.

He sighed in relief, reaching down to his hard cock and bringing it between your legs. You whined at the sensitive touch, and he grunted at the slickness of your folds.

"So wet for me, darling, so perfect," he moaned in your ear, guiding the soft flesh of your thighs to wrap around his hips.

Tentatively, he rubbed his cock up and down your core, getting you accustomed to the blunt feeling. You whined breathlessly, near begging for him to fuck you already.

"Patience, darling. I need to go slow to not hurt you," he mumbled.

The blunt head of his cock pushed past your sensitive folds, and you dug your nails into the strong muscles of his back.

Acacius let out a guttural groan into the heated skin of your neck. "So wet, and tight."

You called his name like a prayer, your head tossed back in pain and pleasure. Over and over again, you called his name.

"A little more, easy, easy..." Acacius moaned, pushing further into your virgin cunt.

You cried out in pinching desire. "S-so much, Acacius..."

"I know, darling. We're halfway there."

You held tight to him, his rough hands on your soft skin distracting you from the stretch of your cunt around his cock. "H-halfway?"

Acacius chuckled, holding still inside of you to let you adjust. "You feel... divine. So, so perfect, my sweet wife."

A high pitched moan escaped you as he pulled back slightly, kissing your neck as he pushed farther in. You clenched around him, and his lips on your clammy skin sent a fresh wave of lust panging though you.

But Acacius stopped, and you gasped in pain again, as if he had hit a barrier in your core he couldn't push past. You knew he could bottom out if he so wanted, but not without tearing you deeply.

Instead of pushing forward, he stayed where he was inside of you, tracing his nose along the curve of your jaw.

When he spoke again, his voice was low, almost like he didn't mean for you to hear his words.

"Do you want to know what I want, darling?"

You were too breathless to answer.

Acacius continued. "I want to fuck you so well that all of Rome hears you calling my name. I want to mark you with my mouth so you may look in the mirror and think only of me. I want fall to my knees and thank the gods that gave you to me. But for now, my darling... I want you to come on my cock with your most divine cunt."

Your cunt, as if on command, fluttered, and you moaned as he was able to fill you to the hilt without a pinch of discomfort.

"Oh, yes," Acacius whispered, his tongue darting out along your pulse point. You cried out in pleasure as he shifted inside of you, holding tight to his strong back.

"You... are... perfect, darling," he panted, thrusting slowly, in and out, in and out. "So warm, and tight..."

"Acacius, please..."

"Please... what?" Acacius teased, biting your bottom lip slightly as he pushed back into you.

"More... more," you said, digging your nails into the muscles of his shoulders.

Acacius responded in kind, chuckling at your desperation. "As my lady commands."

His thrusts into your aching cunt deepened, becoming harder as you grew needy for his strength. You tossed your head back with a high-pitched cry when he was able to hit that perfectly sensitive spot inside of you, and the reaction made him even more ravenous for you.

"Oh, you take my cock so well," Acacius praised, the words making your cunt clench around him. "So, so good, my darling."

As if he knew what you needed before you did, he pulled his chest away from yours, sitting up on his knees while thrusting into you. He looped his wide arms underneath your spread legs, angling you upwards on his thighs and pulling your hips up off of the bed. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you arched your back off the sheets with a shriek of delight.

"Acacius, Acacius," you cried out, the new angle sending him deep into your core, hitting spots you hadn't even known existed.

"That's it, say my name," Acacius said with a smirk. "Say my name when I fuck you, tell all of Rome who is making you feel this good."

You couldn't stop, the falling of his name from your lips dripping like sweet honey. All you could feel was the sweat of his skin against yours, the calloused of his hands as they gripped your soft thighs closely, and the depths of your core his cock was able to reach.

"You're going to cum for me," Acacius ordered, his words coming out in pants of breath. "You're going to cum for me, because you're a good girl. You're a good girl, aren't you? Letting me fuck her virgin cunt so nicely, such a good girl..."

At his praise, your cunt tightened around his cock, back arching like a bow. As you came, he pressed a calloused hand into the flesh above your pelvis, the pressure making your high all the more intense. You cried out his name, over and over again, the two of you becoming the only people in the world as the tidal wave of pleasure overwhelmed you.

Acacius' thrusts into your aching core sped, became less focused, and you knew he was losing control himself as you came apart underneath him. Your name fell from his lips as he pressed his hand further into the spot below your belly, where his cock seemed to bulge into his palm as your cunt pulsed around him.

"Such a good girl, such a good wife," he moaned. Only when your core could only twitch in response to his strong thrusts did he slow, leaning back over you and capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

A warmth pooled within you, evidence of his pleasure. You didn't know if you'd ever felt such an intimate connection with anyone as you did with him, his kiss burning a brand into your heart as the heat of passion faded.

Acacius pulled away after a moment, breathing heavily against your throat. "Hold still a moment," he warned. His palms pressed against your hips, his cock sliding from you with a slight sting. You followed his advice, your legs feeling weak and shaky.

You studied him as he crossed the bedchamber to the washroom, his broad back dimpling with the movement. Returning with a clean cloth and a faint smile on his lips, the dimple in his cheek made your heart swell as he saw your sprawled body on his massive bed.

"Feeling comfortable?" Acacius asked, eyebrows raised with amusement.

You nod, watching him as he crossed over to you, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips as he carefully wiped your messy core.

Breaking from your lips for a moment, he pressed his nose against yours, and you cherished the gentle, intimate gesture.

"Shall I call the servants for a hot bath?" Acacius mumbled, tossing the cloth aside.

"A hot bath sounds divine, but only if we may take one together," you reply, slightly giddy.

Acacius furrowed his brows in confusion. "What is making you laugh, my darling?"

You kissed him again, long and slow. Time stood still, and it was as if you could physically feel the bond forging between the two of you, forging in a slow burn of a crackling fire. It was warm, and easy, and comforting.

You broke away, studying him in his eyes. "You are simply... not what I expected."

Acacius smiled, that damn dimple curving in his cheek.

The most feared general on the continent.

Your husband.

Acacius kissed your forehead. "You, my darling, are everything I've been dreaming of."

---

taglist (people that asked to be tagged in part 2): @marianastudiesart @joeldjarin @fallout-girl219 @shantellorraine @lanadelslay69-420 @pedrofan

my request box is open! would love to hear y'all ideas for Joel, Acacius, Javier, or Oberyn :)