#i just want to look up and enjoy the view

[hellokittyish]

part one here.

★ thinking about mutual masturbation on facetime with ex!satoru which starts off with you just staring at him in some sort of daze, wondering what on earth possessed you to pick up the call in the first place. this is a mistake, you know that... so why aren't you hanging up already?

but before you can dwell too long on the answer to that question, your train of thought is rudely interrupted by a particularly loud moan echoing through the speaker.

“mmh… you actually didn’t decline for once," the white-haired menace gasps out, the slick sounds of his hand gliding up and down his cock only picking up in volume as he lays eyes on you. “shit— you don't know how much i've missed seein’ that pretty face of yours, baby.”

“you’re so shameless, satoru.” you mutter, lacing your tone with as much disdain as you can muster; but the way your own hand somehow snakes its way beneath the waistband of your sweatpants and into your panties tells an entirely different tale of how this whole situation is really making you feel.

“yeah,” he muses in an unapologetic hum, making a show of tilting the camera down to give you a better view of where he's currently thumbing his leaky, blushing tip. “but… ah— so are you, otherwise you would’ve blocked my new number the second i sent you that dick pic.”

“w-well how do you know i wasn't about to press the block button right when you called me and i accidentally clicked accept instead?” you shoot back through teeth which are clenched partly in annoyance and partly in an effort to hold back letting your own pleasure show on your face.

“nah, don’t give me that bullshit,” satoru snorts amusedly, leaning in closer to the screen and tilting his head to the side, snowy lashes fluttering seductively as his bright eyes stare knowingly into yours. “if you’re not enjoying this, then i want you to show me that your hands aren’t in your pants right now rubbing that pretty little pussy.”

shit. of course he'd be able to see through you that easily — he is your ex, after all. but no... you can’t let him win just yet. so, as subtly as possible, you pull your hand from your panties and hold it up to the phone screen, hoping against hope that the darkness of your room hides the wetness of your palm.

“hah. nice try, baby,” he drawls smugly, smiling so wide now that both of his annoyingly cute dimples are on full display; and it’s deliberate, too. he knows full well they were always your weakness. “...but i can see your sweet juices coating those cute fingers from here.”

and he knows he has you right where he wants you when you still don't hang up the call like you both know you should, instead just shoving your hand right back into your panties and rubbing messy circles over your clit while keeping direct eye-contact with him — trying to beat him at his own game, are you? oh, how he's missed you.

so he picks up the pace of his jostling fist around his cock, candy-pink lower lip caught between his pearly teeth as he tries to catch even a small glimpse of your bare skin through the screen; and god, only you could make him act this pathetic, this desperate. "fuck... please, pretty, y'gotta give me something to work with here. h-how about you pull your top up just a little for toru, hm?"

and you've already let this escalate too far to back out now, so you decide to throw caution to the wind and tug at the edge of your oversized tee just enough so that your bare tits spring free, courtesy to your preference for not wearing a bra around your apartment.

"o-oh, just look at those. i missed my girls s'much. bet you wish they were in my mouth right now, huh?" satoru rasps out, balls tightening to an almost painful degree as he reaches down to pay the heavy, neglected sacs some attention by gently fondling them.

and you, having finally caved and slid a finger into your fluttering hole, can only respond with a soft whine as you reach up to knead a breast with your free hand, the image of his skilled mouth suckling on them like he always used to making your much-too-empty cunt clench around your digit with need.

and that singular sweet, sweet sound from your lips that he's been deprived of hearing for months is all it takes for him to finally bust a load all over his chest and hand, goopy white streaks tainting his previously unmarred pale skin as his entire body trembles with a pleasure only you can give him.

and when he eventually manages to compose himself enough to glance back down at the facetime and realize that you're still trying to reach your own climax, your meek little fingers clearly not enough to finish the job, satoru has the absolute audacity to lean right in close to the screen and mutter out a cheeky…

“hey, if y'want me to come over and help you with that then all you gotta do is agree to get back together with me, baby.”

taglist: @haruhatake @sheismaryy @jxeon @bonneyzsk @yozora7154 @depositodeporradogojo @ifyournameischoisanpleaseloveme @anthy-j-ander @sugarcoatedsoul @moncher-ire @fwxyz00 @trishiepo0 @just-lilita @beenathembo @channnee @tul1ps1 @awoodsysimp411 @vera4luv @silllly-jokesterr @mastermasterlist1p1 @yourfaveava @rllyobsessedgirlie @cherrycel @tomiokas-lunchbox @iwaizumisloverrr @citruswriter @jasminelee324 @kocho-catt @azewritessillystuff @suggestmename @greentea-ellie @banksxxnik @feelingtoosilly @nepotti @nonamevenus @barking4dogs-fy @mihoonz @crazytrash @phoenixflames498 @starlightmid @k0z3me @cakenpiewhyohmy @wh1msycal @resfrio @ersharyzst @loveyislost @supernovacoffeestop @ying47

[silentstaresfanficandfanart]

*raises hand* if you want that you should check out anime it's specifically doing this! this is exactly why anime is so popular! if you *want* adult cartoons that are about meaningful stories, check out anime! It's not that no one makes cartoons that are actually meaningful and aimed at adults, you just have to look outside of america. hopefully with time we see more things like this crop up but until it does, it cant hurt to explore outside of western media if you want to escape it's normal trappings! Check out the classics of anime, check out new popular things, if you want an anime that will completely reshape how you view food? dungeon meshi, if you want to see a story about superheroes who are girls and don't have to be masculine to be impressive and important, Sailor moon! (plus its funny and cute too but also does get quite dark despite what you'd expect!) If you want to see a masterpiece, Watch spirited away or another studio Ghibli movie, if you want something artistic and fascinating and dark thats going to break your heart, MADOKA MAGICA! If you want slice of life comfort that still focuses on adult experiences, you might want to try the iyasheki genre, and specifically i'd suggest "my new boss is goofy" which is a deeply touching little anime about a man who just left from a deeply abusive job and his experiences healing thanks to having a very kind and sweet silly boss who actually cares about him and his interesting coworkers and yes its serious at times, yes its silly at times, but at its core it has a lovely heart that's very touching.

If you want romance? they've got it, fantasy, comedy, and even genres like iyasheki that don't exactly exist much in western media, cartoons CAN be fun and not childish! and childish isint wrong either, you can enjoy a lot of shows aimed at kids that are actually still really solid when you're an adult like my little pony, or bluey! They really are meaningful shows that can still connect with an adult in a way that's amazing. :) I really hope you'll give it a chance! (and if you still dont like that, you can also check out korean and chinese animation though i dont recall what those are called and i dont know as much about them, but they have a LOT of amazing shows too :) ) I hope maybe this helps some to anyone who's looking for cartoons for adults to enjoy! (also reminder: Anime and manga actually have specific genres aimed at adults as well as younger people, and you can look into those if you want something better aimed at those, also horror IS a thing in anime too, you can find some amazing horror anime! So, give it a try! theres no telling what cool stuff you'll find!)

hey quick question why are all adult cartoons like that 

[ellecdc]

she sells sea shells by the sea shore

Finnick Odair x fem!reader who sells jewelry at the market [1.3k words]

CW: meet cute/ugly turned into frequent visits, district accurate, gameless au, fluff

You thank the woman for her purchase as you hand her the small paper bag containing her new necklace and matching earrings, smiling at her daughter who chose to immediately wear her new bracelet as they walked away. 

You busy yourself with putting away the cash and tidying up your displays. You had never been quite comfortable with self-promotion; desperately trying to make eye contact with those passing by who were equally desperate to avoid your eye contact, or - somehow worse - pressuring those taking an interest in your works to purchase something when all they wanted to do was look. 

Probably not the best trait to have when you make a living selling ocean themed jewelry by the beach, but alas, here you were. 

You were just about to take a seat on the wicker chair you’d purchased from a few stalls down when the sun peaking through the canopy of your stall disappears.

“Hello there.”

You hope he didn’t hear the way your neck cracked when you whipped your head up to see the handsome guy who stopped at your shop once a week without fail to buy your jewelry. 

You found yourself disappointed when the first time he bought a delicate charm bracelet he asked to have it gift wrapped, but you still enjoyed the view and banter he promised you on his weekly visits. 

“Hi.” You let out breathlessly, horrified when his eyebrows raised, encouraging you to clear your throat and try again. “Welcome back.”

His smile turns almost bashful as he shrugs one of his shoulders and busies himself with studying your inventory. “It’s all so beautiful; you make it difficult to stay away for long.” 

You look down at your feet in hopes he can’t tell how hot your cheeks are from where he’s standing.  

“What are you looking for today?” You finally ask, leaning your palms on the stand in front of you and subconsciously leaning closer to your crush. 

He seems to remember why he’s here as he mirrors your position, pursuing the options before lifting one hand to pick up a pair of earrings. 

“Maybe these?”

You nod in approval. “Those are very cute; they’d match the necklace you bought last week.”

You watch as his smile grows wider as he recalls last week's purchase.

“You’re right.” He agrees. “You’ve got a good memory.”

You make a noncommittal hum instead of admitting that you were sort of obsessed with him and replayed all of your interactions over and over in your head to the point of memorization. 

“I take it that the necklace was a hit?” You ask as you package up the earrings.

“It was.” He replies with a nod. “I still think her favourite was the bracelet I bought that first week, though.” 

You smile as you remembered the first day you’d met - or, perhaps it was seen? Seeing as you still really didn’t even know the dude’s name - he had been weaving through shoppers with his hands full of bags of groceries when two kids went running by, forcing him to dodge them which resulted in him bumping into your stall. 

He’d only knocked over one jewelry stand, but you would have thought he’d burnt your entire stall to the ground with the way he kept apologizing. He asked how he could make it up to you, but you laughed and waved him off, telling him there was nothing to make up for. 

He picked up one of the bracelets he’d knocked over and inspected it; you had assumed at the time he was looking to check that he hadn’t scuffed it, but he simply held it out to you and said he’d like to purchase it, please.

Still assuming he was just trying to make it up to you, you smiled and rang him through, though your heart fell when he asked if you offered gift wrapping. He was buying it for someone. 

However, you enjoyed his presence enough that you were more than happy to wrap up presents for his special someone every week. 

“She’s lucky.” You comment, smiling to yourself when he laughs.

“Thank you; I’ll let her know you think so.” 

You hold his bag out to him and watch as he raises a distracted hand to retrieve it, his eyes glued to a large, golden sun shaped pendant necklace. 

“That’d look really nice on you.” You try; his sea green eyes darting over to you as a dimple makes itself at home on his cheek.

“Yeah?” He asks, eyebrows raising when you nod your head yes. “Mind if I try it on?”

“Be my guest.”

Large, calloused hands with delicate fingers unclasp the necklace before he positions it around his neck, examining his reflection in the small mirror you had situated at your stand. 

“What do you think?” He asks, turning his body towards you and striking a pose.

“Gorgeous.” You agree, hardly finding it in you to feel embarrassed at how honest that answer was.

Something about his eyes turns softer even as his smile grows wider. “I’ll take it, then.” 

“There’s a smaller one, too. If you wanted to get her a matching one?” You explained, gesturing towards a smaller golden sun pendant hanging on a delicate chain. To your surprise, he lets out a laugh. 

“I’m sure she’d like that, but I think I might be a little old to be matching with my mom.” 

Your head actually tilts to the side as you pause in your movements; hand hovering in front of you as you dumbly hold the money he’d just placed in your palm.

“For…your mom?”

“Right.” He says, smiling. 

“The bracelet-”

“For my mom.” He explains.

“And…the necklace?”

“Yup.”

Your eyes fall to the bag you’d handed to him moments ago. “And the earrings too,” he continues unprompted, “all for my mom.”

“Oh.” You mumble stupidly, forcing yourself to move and finally placing the money into your small safe. 

You look back over to see him pinch his lips between his teeth, seemingly fighting against a smile though his dimples gave him away. 

“Don’t tell my mom, but, I’ve sort of only been buying her gifts as an excuse to talk to the pretty girl who runs the stand.” 

A disbelieving sound leaves your lips as a hopeful smile adorns them. “You didn’t need an excuse.”

“No?”

You shake your head. “No.” 

He makes a show of letting out a breath of relief, one hand moving up to fiddle with the new pendant around his neck. 

“Hey, what’s your favourite smoothie?” He asks suddenly.

“What?”

“What flavour of smoothie do you like? I’ll run to the juice stand and grab some for us.”

“Mango.” You offer slowly, still wondering if you should pinch yourself to confirm this was real.

“Perfect, and your name?” He asks as he starts walking backwards. You give it to him before asking him for his.

“Finnick.” He says. “Now I know three things about you.”

“What was the third?” You call after him.

“That you’re gorgeous!” He responds, and then he disappears into the crowd as he heads in the direction of the juice stand. 

You fall back into your wicker chair with a slightly hysterical laugh, eyes inadvertently falling on the matching necklace you’d just tried to sell to Finnick when you thought he had a special girl to go home to.

You rip your eyes away from it as you fiddle with the bracelets on your wrist.

Maybe one day.

[eiralunaire]

Headcanos of Damian Wayne.

1. Small Gestures of Tenderness.

Although Damian would never admit it out loud, he always feels inexplicably more relaxed when he's around his girlfriend. He often watches her in silence, observing the small details, like the way she laughs, her expression when she's focused, or how she always has something to say, even when she doesn't feel like talking. There's something about those moments that makes him feel, for the first time in his life, that war and fighting aren't everything.

2. Defender of Her Well-Being.

Damian, who has been trained to be cold and calculating, can't help but become extremely protective when it comes to her. If someone looks at her wrong, even in jest, he'll step in without thinking, making it clear with his gaze (and sometimes his threat of "don't do it again") that no one can hurt her. He's convinced that it's his responsibility to take care of her, but it's more of an internal desire to make sure nothing bad ever happens to her.

3. The Typical Sarcastic and Jealous Behavior.

When it comes to other men, Damian is relentless. Although he would never express it in an obvious way, he feels extremely uncomfortable if any kind of unwanted attention is directed towards his girlfriend. It is common for his sarcastic tone to appear when some guy talks too close to her. "Really? Do you think she wants to hear that?" he would say, with an almost imperceptible smile on his lips, as he takes a step forward.

4. Thoughtful (albeit weird) Gifts.

He is not the type of boyfriend to buy expensive jewelry or flowers (because he doesn't know how those things work), but what he does do is remember the little details about what his girlfriend likes. One day, unbeknownst to her, Damian shows up with a rare book she mentioned in a casual conversation, or with that chocolate she is known to like a lot. The truth is, he's become an expert at listening to her, not just because of his tactical intelligence, but because he genuinely wants to please her, even if his way of showing it is... unconventional.

5. Intimate Moments of Vulnerability.

When Damian is with his girlfriend, his guard is down in ways that only happen with her. It can be something as simple as watching a movie together, or lying next to her after a long day of training, but in those moments, he doesn't have to live up to his last name or his lineage. It's just him, Damian Wayne, simply enjoying her company. It's a luxury he doesn't usually get with anyone else, but with her, it's something that constantly draws him in and comforts him.

6. Interactions with His Family.

Despite his reserved attitude, Damian has found himself talking more to his family about his girlfriend, albeit in a slightly brusque manner. With Bruce, for example, his attitude towards her is a kind of possessiveness that makes it clear that he wants her in his life, but he also knows that his father will never really understand what he feels. With Alfred, however, he seems more relaxed, because he knows that the butler sees what he sometimes can't recognize: how happy their relationship makes him.

7. Subtle but Efficient Jealousy.

Damian can't help but show jealousy, although he does it in a subtle and almost childish way. For example, if his girlfriend talks a lot with another guy (even if he's a close friend), he may make comments like: "Since when are you so interested in what he has to say?" or suddenly offer to take her back to her apartment, as if there was some "urgent" business to attend to, to prevent her from staying too long with that person. It's his way of saying "I want you all to myself" without having to say it directly.

8. He Likes Deep Conversations.

Damian isn’t a man of many words, but when he’s with his girlfriend, he finds it easy to open up and share things he never thought he’d say. He likes to talk to her about topics that have nothing to do with war or fighting, like his views on the future or what he thinks about life. Sometimes, he catches himself talking more than he planned, but he doesn’t mind, because he knows he can be vulnerable with her, something he’s learned to deeply appreciate.

9. The Vulnerability of Being “The Man”.

When he’s with her, Damian feels weird about not being able to show off everything he knows how to do. I mean, with his combat skills and tactical intelligence, he could defend her from anything, but what really attracts him to her is how she calms him down and makes him feel more human. In her mind, that makes him more than just Bruce Wayne’s son or trained assassin. He makes her feel a little more normal, like any other guy in love, and that thought baffles him, but he loves it at the same time.

10. Sudden Moments of Insecurity.

Despite all his training and his confident facade, Damian sometimes feels insecure in their relationship. There are times when he doubts himself: Is he really up to par with her? Will he be enough for someone like her, who has so much to offer? Although he would never admit it, he has those moments of uncertainty that make him more human. However, as time goes on, he realizes that all he really needs to do is be himself, and sometimes, even a more vulnerable and caring Damian can be what attracts her the most.

11. The Unspoken "I Protect You".

Although he never says it outright, Damian is obsessed with the idea of ​​protecting her. If she is ever sad, he turns into a wall of ice, willing to face anything to make her feel safe. This leads to more possessive behavior, but he doesn't see it that way. It's his way of showing her that even though he's not the traditional boyfriend type, he'll always be there for her, even if that means walking away from conflict and just offering his company.

[solxamber]

Hi can I have Ignihyde for # 8, fluff or comedy. Thank you!

Anime Boot Camp || Idia Shroud ft. Ortho

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "This is non-negotiable" ; Genre: Fluff with Comedy ;

You should’ve known better. You really should have. But Idia had given you one of those rare, half-excited, half-nervous smiles, and you’d been putty in his hands.

“Sure, Idia,” you’d said with zero hesitation. “I’d love to watch the new season with you.”

A seemingly innocent offer. A simple act of camaraderie. And then, Idia had dropped the bomb.

“Great. We’ll start from season one. It’s non-negotiable.”

Season one?

“Wait—how many seasons are there?” you asked cautiously, trying to keep the panic out of your voice.

Idia adjusted his tablet, the glow highlighting his sinister grin. “Nineteen. Not including the movies, OVAs, or the bonus material. But don’t worry, the filler episodes are only about 35%.”

Your soul left your body.

“I—uh…” you stammered, searching for an escape. “Do we really need to watch everything? I thought we were just watching the new season?”

“You can’t watch season 20 without context!” Idia exclaimed, horrified. “You’d miss all the foreshadowing and character arcs! It’s essential to the viewing experience.”

You looked at him, and there it was: the genuine excitement in his eyes, the rare spark of passion that made him absolutely irresistible. Damn your stupid heart.

“Okay,” you sighed. “Let’s do it. Start from episode one.”

Idia’s face lit up, and if you weren’t already melting, his quiet “Y-you’re the best,” would’ve sealed the deal.

That’s how you found yourself on Idia’s couch, sandwiched between him and Ortho, with snacks piled precariously around you.

“This is the start of a life-changing journey,” Ortho said cheerfully, handing you a soda. “Big Brother has been waiting for someone to share this with forever!”

You glanced at Idia, who was trying to hide his blush behind his hoodie.

“You sure we’re not biting off more than we can chew here?” you asked weakly as the opening theme of season one blasted from the giant screen.

Idia waved you off. “Nah. If we watch at 1.5x speed, skip the ending songs, and only take five-minute breaks every eight episodes, we’ll finish in about four days.”

“Four days?”

“Non-negotiable,” he reminded you smugly, tossing popcorn into his mouth.

By day two, you’d developed Stockholm Syndrome for the characters.

“NO, KAZUTAKA, DON’T DO IT!” you yelled, clutching the blanket you’d stolen from Idia’s bed.

“It’s his tragic backstory arc,” Idia explained, completely unfazed by your emotional outburst. “He has to do it for the narrative payoff in season 14.”

You groaned. “This show is going to kill me.”

“It builds character,” Idia said, smirking.

Meanwhile, Ortho was a model of efficiency, pausing episodes precisely for snack breaks and bringing you hot towels like you were at an anime spa. You were starting to think Ortho might be the MVP of this whole operation.

“Ortho, you’re a saint,” you said as he handed you a cup of tea.

“I just want to support Big Brother’s happiness,” Ortho chirped, beaming.

Idia mumbled something unintelligible and pulled his hoodie tighter.

By day four, you were fully invested.

“THE PLOT TWIST! I KNEW IT!” you screamed, nearly knocking the bowl of chips off your lap.

“Pshh, called it back in episode 47,” Idia muttered, though the gleam in his eyes said he was enjoying this more than he’d admit.

“You did not!” you argued.

“I’ve seen this, like, three times, noob,” he retorted smugly.

Ortho, who had already created a mini shrine for your endurance, clapped in delight. “You’re catching up to Big Brother’s level of dedication!”

When the final credits rolled, you leaned back with a dramatic sigh. “We did it. I can’t believe we actually did it.”

“I can’t believe you survived,” Idia said, looking at you with a mix of awe and amusement.

“Maybe a family sometimes,” you said, stretching, “is just you, your crush, and his technomantic humanoid brother.”

Ortho tilted his head. “Does that mean you’re officially part of the family?”

You froze, glancing at Idia. His face was redder than a lava eel, and he was aggressively pretending to read something on his tablet.

“Well,” you said, smirking. “That depends on your brother.”

Idia groaned, burying his face in his hoodie. “You’re insufferable,” he mumbled.

And yet, when you shifted closer to nudge him playfully, he didn’t pull away.

Masterlist

[bringbackmaes14]

My mom has her TV on in her room almost 24/7 and it's always on some news outlet or other. We talk a lot about politics and world/national/local events. And we do have a lot of varying views on a lot of things but we're both adults who are capable of saying "well we've both stated we have differing opinions and it's clear that we're actually arguing at this point and not just talking so let's put away the topic for now." But there are also other times where I'm just too overwhelmed by my own life to think about what's going on in the bigger world around me, so my mom knows to be hesitant to bring up news stuff with me (i.e. she doesn't just start talking about politics/world events with me rather she'll ask if I'm in the mindset to discuss things when she wants my opinion on something). This is all relevant.

We've always been able to talk about nearly everything from the economy to the school system to human rights to human tragedy and we've never tried to censor ourselves around each other (outside of getting too emotional with our language). But about two weeks ago when the United Healthcare CEO was assassinated, my mom, who is in her 50s, came to me and she said "Did you see that the CEO of United Healthcare got unalived?"

And I just sat there and looked at her completely confused and she was like "did you not hear about it? It's all over the news. It happened in clear view on the street." Like the problem was that I hadn't heard of the event not that my Gen-X mother had just in a real life conversation said the word "unalived".

And I told her as much. "Yes I've heard that. Why did you say 'unalived' instead of 'murdered'?

And she told me that she just thought that since I'm touchy about heavier topics sometimes (which is definitely true, that does occasionally happen) she thought it would be better to just not use the "heavy" words. I asked her if she realized, honestly, how stupid that was because regardless of the word she used, she was still talking about a murder, it didn't change the subject matter, she was only making the subject matter seem less significant and severe by changing the word to baseless internet lingo that a bunch of misguided, clout-chasing influencers spread.

She hadn't. She's doesn't use the Internet replacement words a lot, online or otherwise. This was a first. She thought this was a different situation, and a fine one to use it in, and like the above stories people shared, it's still not.

I'm allowed to say there are days where I want to avoid heavier topics because I'm overwhelmed. I'm allowed to not ever really discuss certain topics because they actually trigger me based on my own experiences. But people who are out here living their whole lives like just talking about about difficult or controversial topics, or asking questions about it, or enjoying media where it's portrayed (especially when it's actually portrayed respectfully) are being ridiculous, and they're handicapping themselves. They're never going to learn how to talk about hard things, or how to handle hard things. And honestly I feel bad for them.

Luckily, in my case, once I explained why my mom saying what she said was incredibly weird and honestly devaluing to the conversation, she backtracked and told me that (like I said above) she doesn't talk like that regularly and she has no intention to start; it's just that this was a huge news event and that day had been particularly rough for me emotionally and she wasn't sure how to approach it. So her intentions were good and I'm very lucky that she understands and also agrees that the Internet censorship language is incredibly unnecessary.

we have GOT to kill tiktok/twitter self-censorship i just witnessed a grown adult say the word “smex” out loud to our professor

[s4kura-tr3]

Ice skating! - how ice skating goes with the jjk men

Gojo satoru

The crisp winter air nipped at your nose as you laced up your skates on the bench by the rink. Gojo was already on the ice, gliding effortlessly, his white hair catching the light and his signature blue blindfold wrapped snugly around his eyes. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the attention he was drawing from passersby.

“Are you going to stand there admiring me all day, or are you coming?” he teased, his voice carrying over the soft music and chatter around the rink.

“I’m not admiring you!” you retorted, standing up and wobbling slightly on your skates.

Gojo was at your side in an instant, his gloved hands steadying you with ease. “Sure you aren’t,” he smirked, pulling you gently onto the ice.

You weren’t the most graceful skater, but Gojo made sure to keep a firm grip on your hands, his laughter echoing each time you stumbled. He glided backward with ease, as if showing off his skills, all while ensuring you didn’t fall.

“See? You’re getting the hang of it,” he said after a few minutes, his tone light and encouraging.

You narrowed your eyes. “I think you’re just distracting me so I won’t notice how much you’re showing off.”

His grin widened. “Caught me. But admit it—you like the view.”

Rolling your eyes, you gave him a playful shove, though it barely moved him. He retaliated by spinning you in a circle, his hold on you firm as you shrieked.

Eventually, you both ended up at the center of the rink, the world around you fading into a blur of lights and laughter. Gojo lifted his blindfold just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his vibrant blue eyes, now crinkled with warmth as he looked at you.

“Not bad for a first-timer,” he said, leaning in slightly.

“Thanks to my show-off teacher,” you replied with a grin.

“Always happy to be of service.” He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before pulling you into another spin, his laughter mingling with yours as the night stretched on.

Geto suguru

The first flakes of snow began to fall as you tightened your scarf around your neck, glancing over at Suguru, who stood beside you, exuding a quiet calmness that always seemed to put you at ease. His long black hair was tied back, and his sharp features softened as he smiled at you.

“Ready?” he asked, holding out a hand as you both approached the ice rink.

“Not really,” you admitted with a nervous laugh, eyeing the skaters gliding around. “I’m not great at this.”

Suguru chuckled, his warm breath visible in the cold air. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you steady.”

You took his hand and let him guide you onto the ice. His grip was firm and reassuring as you wobbled, gripping his arm for dear life.

“See? Not so bad,” he said, his voice low and comforting. He moved slowly, matching your hesitant pace.

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered, glancing at how effortlessly he moved across the ice, even while staying close to you.

Suguru leaned in, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just wanted an excuse to hold onto me.”

You shot him a playful glare. “As if you’re not enjoying being my personal crutch.”

He smirked, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you even more. “Guilty. But I’ll take care of you—always.”

As you grew more confident, Suguru led you to the center of the rink, where the crowd thinned. The two of you glided side by side, your laughter mixing with the soft hum of holiday music.

When your legs started to tire, Suguru suggested a break. You sat together on a bench by the rink, your gloved hands holding warm cups of hot chocolate. He reached over to brush a snowflake from your hair, his touch gentle.

“See? You survived,” he teased, his smile warm.

“Thanks to you,” you admitted, leaning against his shoulder.

Suguru pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his voice a soft murmur. “Anytime, love. As long as it’s with you, I’ll go anywhere—even an ice rink.”

Nanami Kento

The winter chill brushed against your cheeks as you adjusted your scarf, watching Nanami lace up his skates with precision. His beige coat and signature tie stood out against the soft, snowy backdrop, and you couldn’t help but smile at how out of place he looked at the bustling, cheerful ice rink.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked, glancing up at you with a slightly skeptical look. “You know I’m not one for… recreational chaos.”

You laughed, tugging on his arm. “It’s not chaos. It’s fun! Come on, Kento, you need a break from all your seriousness.”

With a resigned sigh, he allowed you to pull him toward the ice. The moment his skates hit the surface, he wobbled slightly, his usually impeccable composure cracking for a split second. You bit back a giggle as you held his hand.

“Don’t say a word,” he muttered, his voice calm but tinged with embarrassment.

“I didn’t say anything!” you teased, leading him forward slowly.

Despite his initial hesitance, Nanami quickly found his balance. His hand stayed firmly in yours, his grip protective as he made sure you didn’t stumble. He moved with surprising ease, his natural elegance shining through even on the ice.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He adjusted his glasses, a small smirk playing on his lips. “I may have gone once or twice. But only because someone convinced me it was good for bonding.”

“And was it?”

He glanced at you, his expression softening. “It is now.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you tightened your hold on his hand. As the two of you glided across the rink, the festive lights reflected in his warm brown eyes, making him seem even more breathtaking than usual.

When you stumbled, his arm immediately circled your waist, steadying you. “Careful,” he said, his voice low but full of concern.

You looked up at him, your cheeks flushed. “Thanks, Kento. You’re pretty good at this whole ‘not letting me fall’ thing.”

“I try,” he replied, his lips twitching into a rare, genuine smile.

After a while, you both retired to a nearby bench, sipping hot drinks as snow continued to fall around you. Nanami draped his scarf over your shoulders, ensuring you stayed warm.

“Thank you for convincing me to come,” he said, his tone softer now. “I don’t always allow myself to enjoy moments like this, but… I’m glad I did. With you.”

You leaned into him, your heart swelling with affection. “You deserve moments like this, Kento. And I’ll make sure you have them.”

His hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze as the two of you sat there, basking in the quiet magic of the winter evening.

Toji fushiguro

The rink was alive with the sound of laughter and the glimmer of lights reflecting off the ice. Snowflakes fell softly, clinging to your coat as you adjusted your child’s scarf. Megumi stood between you and Toji, his small hands stuffed into his coat pockets, eyes scanning the rink with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Megumi pouted, glancing at the skates in Toji’s hands. “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure about this, squirt?” Toji asked, crouching down to Megumi’s level.

You chuckled, kneeling beside them. “He’s determined. Just like his dad.”

Toji smirked at your comment but shook his head. “Alright, tough guy. Let’s get you laced up.” He reached out to help Megumi, his large hands surprisingly gentle as he tied the skates securely.

Once everyone was ready, you made your way onto the ice. Toji, of course, stepped on effortlessly, moving with the confidence of someone who could master anything he tried. You wobbled slightly, but his hand was there in an instant, steadying you.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he said, smirking. “Don’t want you taking me down with you.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Just focus on not showing off too much.”

Meanwhile, Megumi stood at the edge of the rink, gripping the railing with wide eyes. His little feet shuffled, but he wasn’t quite ready to move.

“Megumi, come on!” you called, extending your hand.

Toji skated over and crouched in front of him. “What’s wrong? Afraid you’ll fall?”

Megumi frowned, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. “No… I just don’t want to look dumb.”

Toji chuckled, ruffling his hair. “Kid, no one cares what you look like. Besides…” He held out his hand. “You’ve got me and your mom. We won’t let you fall.”

Hesitant but trusting, Megumi grabbed Toji’s hand, and the three of you made your way onto the ice together.

Megumi clung tightly to both of you at first, his little legs trembling as he slid awkwardly over the surface. Toji encouraged him with gruff but kind words, while you cheered him on with every step he managed to take.

“You’re doing great, Megumi!” you said, smiling brightly.

“I’m not even skating,” he muttered, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Baby steps,” Toji said with a smirk, glancing down at his son. “You’ll be zipping around in no time.”

After a while, Megumi started to loosen up, his movements more confident. Toji even let go of his hand for a moment, skating backward to give him space. “Look at that! Told you you’d get it,” Toji said, his voice full of pride.

Megumi wobbled but managed to stay upright, his face lighting up with a rare smile. “I’m doing it!”

You laughed, clapping your hands. “See? You’re a natural!”

The rest of the evening was filled with laughter and playful moments. Toji even surprised you by spinning you around on the ice, holding you close as you squealed. “Show-off,” you teased, but your heart swelled at how effortlessly he balanced being both playful and protective.

By the time you all left the rink, Megumi was bundled up and walking between the two of you, holding your hands. He was exhausted but happy, leaning his head against Toji’s side.

“You were right,” Megumi mumbled sleepily. “It wasn’t so bad.”

Toji chuckled, lifting him up into his arms. “Told you, kid. Your old man knows a thing or two.”

You smiled, resting your head on Toji’s shoulder as you walked back to the car, the three of you wrapped in the warmth of family and the magic of a winter evening.

Sukuna Ryomen

Sukuna’s estate was eerily quiet as he lounged on his throne, the flickering light of torches casting shadows on the walls. He hadn’t seen you in hours, and though he didn’t show it, the absence of your usual presence was unsettling.

“Uraume,” he called, his deep voice reverberating through the hall.

Uraume appeared quickly, bowing their head. “Yes, my lord?”

“Where is she?” Sukuna’s tone was calm, but there was a sharpness in his gaze that brooked no excuses.

“I believe she went outside, my lord,” Uraume replied, hesitating slightly. “By the frozen pond.”

Sukuna’s crimson eyes narrowed, and without another word, he rose from his seat, his towering form exuding authority as he made his way outside.

The cold winter air bit at his skin, but he barely noticed. His four eyes scanned the snow-covered grounds, his sharp senses quickly honing in on laughter—your laughter.

His lips curled into a smirk as he approached the pond, the sight before him catching him off guard. You were slipping and sliding across the ice, your movements clumsy but full of joy. Uraume stood at the edge, their usually stoic face softened with faint amusement as they watched you.

“Careful!” Uraume called when you nearly lost your footing, but you laughed it off, waving a hand.

“I’m fine! See? I can do this!” you replied, taking another step—only to slip and land on your back with a soft thud.

“Enjoying yourself, little one?” he drawled, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement.

Sukuna’s deep chuckle rumbled through the air, causing both you and Uraume to freeze. You turned your head, finding him standing at the edge of the pond, his arms crossed and a smug grin on his face.

Your cheeks flushed as you scrambled to sit up. “I… was just testing the ice,” you muttered, brushing snow off your clothes.

“Testing it, were you?” Sukuna stepped onto the ice effortlessly, his movements unnervingly graceful for someone his size. The ice groaned slightly under his weight, but it held firm as he strode toward you.

You blinked up at him, pouting. “You don’t have to make fun of me, you know.”

He crouched down in front of you, his sharp claws brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “I’m not making fun,” he said, though the smirk on his lips betrayed him. “But I don’t recall giving you permission to wander off.”

“I didn’t think you’d notice,” you admitted softly, glancing away.

His smirk faded slightly, replaced by a look of quiet intensity. “I always notice,” he said, his tone low but firm.

Before you could respond, Sukuna stood and held out a hand to you. “Come. If you insist on playing out here, at least let me make sure you don’t break your neck.”

You hesitated for a moment before taking his hand. He pulled you to your feet with ease, his grip steady as you wobbled on the ice.

“You’re actually helping?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t get used to it,” he replied, though his smirk had returned.

Uraume watched silently, a faint smile tugging at their lips as Sukuna guided you across the ice, his usually commanding demeanor softened by your presence. For a moment, the cold winter night didn’t feel so harsh, the warmth of his rare affection wrapping around you like a blanket.

Megumi Fushiguro

The chill of the winter air was invigorating as you tugged on your skates, sitting on a bench by the ice rink. The twinkling lights strung overhead made everything feel magical, but what had you smiling the most was the sight of Megumi hesitantly tying his skates beside you.

“You look nervous,” you teased, nudging him gently.

“I’m not nervous,” he muttered, though his furrowed brow and the way he was double-checking the laces on his skates said otherwise.

Once he finished, you stood and held out your hand. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

He looked up at you, his dark eyes full of doubt. “You know I’m not good at this.”

“That’s the point! You’ll have me to help you,” you replied with a grin, giving his hand a little tug.

With a resigned sigh, Megumi let you pull him onto the ice. The moment his skates touched the surface, his legs wobbled precariously, and he gripped your arm like his life depended on it.

“Why did I let you talk me into this?” he muttered, glaring at the ice as if it had personally wronged him.

“Because you love me,” you said cheekily, trying not to laugh as he stumbled again.

He huffed but didn’t argue, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

You moved slowly, holding his hands as you guided him across the ice. Every few steps, he would slip or falter, but you were always there to catch him.

“Megumi, you’re so stiff,” you said after a while, laughing. “Relax a little!”

“If I relax, I’ll fall,” he grumbled, his shoulders hunched as he concentrated on staying upright.

“You’re going to fall if you keep overthinking it!”

As if to prove your point, his skate caught on a groove in the ice, and he stumbled forward. You tried to catch him, but his weight sent both of you toppling over, landing in a heap on the ice.

For a moment, there was silence, and then you burst into laughter. “See? Not so bad!”

Megumi groaned, propping himself up on his elbows. “Speak for yourself,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward despite himself.

You reached out and booped his nose. “You’re doing great, Megumi. Really. I mean, you’ve only fallen once!”

“That’s once too many,” he said, rolling his eyes but letting you help him back up.

As the night went on, he started to loosen up a bit, though his movements were still far from graceful. You skated circles around him, giggling as he grumbled about how unfair it was.

“Stop showing off,” he said, though there was no real bite in his tone.

“Come on, you’re getting better!” you said, skating back to him and holding out your hands. “Trust me.”

He hesitated for a moment before taking your hands. His grip was firm, but he let you pull him forward, his balance improving little by little.

By the end of the night, he was still far from a pro, but he managed to skate a few feet without holding onto you. “See? You’re a natural,” you said, beaming at him.

He gave you a skeptical look but didn’t deny it, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe. But I think I’ll stick to solid ground next time.”

You laughed, leaning into his side as you both sat down to take off your skates. “Fair enough. But admit it—you had fun.”

He glanced at you, his eyes softening. “Yeah… I guess I did.”

Yuji Itadori

The winter air was crisp as you arrived at the rink with Yuji, his excitement practically radiating off him. He’d been talking about this all week, hyping up his “hidden skating talent,” though you had your doubts.

“I’ve got this,” Yuji said confidently as he tugged on his skates. His grin was infectious, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how determined he looked.

“You sure? You don’t even know if you’re good at skating,” you teased, lacing up your own skates.

“I’m good at pretty much everything!” he replied, puffing out his chest dramatically.

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Alright, Mr. Natural Talent. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The moment Yuji stepped onto the ice, his confidence wavered. His arms flailed as his skates slid in opposite directions, and you had to grab his arm to keep him from falling.

“Hidden talent, huh?” you said, grinning as you steadied him.

“It’s just… slippery!” he defended, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. “Give me a second!”

Yuji held onto the railing with a death grip as you skated beside him, your laughter filling the air. “You’re so bad at this!” you teased, watching as he carefully tried to push off with his skates, only to nearly fall again.

“I’m just warming up!” he insisted, though his wobbly movements said otherwise.

After a while, you decided to help him out, skating backward in front of him and holding his hands. “Okay, let’s try this. I’ll guide you.”

He looked at your hands, then back at you, his expression softening. “You sure? I don’t wanna crush you if I fall.”

You smiled. “I’ve got you, Yuji. Trust me.”

With your help, he started to find his balance. His grin returned as he managed a few steps without slipping. “Hey, look! I’m doing it!”

“You are!” you cheered, matching his pace. “See? You’re not hopeless after all.”

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said, laughing.

As the night went on, Yuji got more comfortable, though he was still far from graceful. He occasionally tried to show off, attempting a spin or a quick glide, but it always ended with him flailing or falling. You couldn’t stop laughing, especially when he’d pop back up with an exaggerated “I’m fine!”

At one point, he slipped and accidentally pulled you down with him. You both landed in a heap on the ice, laughter spilling out as you tried to untangle yourselves.

“This is not how I imagined skating would go,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

“But it’s fun, right?” you said, leaning against him as you caught your breath.

He looked at you, his cheeks pink but not from the cold. “Yeah. It’s perfect,” he said softly, his usual playful tone replaced with something more sincere.

You smiled, leaning closer. “Even if you’re terrible at it?”

He chuckled, bumping his forehead gently against yours. “Especially because I’m terrible at it. Gives me an excuse to stick close to you.”

By the end of the night, neither of you had mastered skating, but it didn’t matter. You left the rink hand in hand, the cold winter air feeling a little warmer with him by your side.

[kinda-indecisive]

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⋆ Face Kisses pt. II ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳

Basically how I imagine their reactions to an onslaught of face kisses from you (MC). Fluff.

Part 2: The Rafayel and Sylus Edition!

+:★:+* *+:★:+* +:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+* *+:★+:★:+* *+:★

Rafayel

Enjoying the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against your ear, you are already comfortably nestled into your spot on his lap, arms lazily hung around his neck as he continues to flip quietly through the gallery catalog over your head.

A catalog Thomas had sent Rafayel to review a week ago, which you feel kinda guilty about.

Usually, Thomas can trust you to keep Raf in check, pushing him to slough through the boring stuff so that the two of you can spend the rest of your time together doing other, more exciting things. This past week, however, you had been having a really frustrating time dealing with a particularly nasty group of Wanderers that kept reappearing at the most inopportune times and locations. And, when you showed up in his studio, he noticed something was off instantly.

He’d taken it on as his duty to pull you out of your slump of frustration, dragging you from marketplace to marketplace, shop to shop, beach to beach, hoping to get your mind off of those “creativity sucking Wanderers with bad attitudes”. And that was just on the first day. All week, he’s been there the second you wake up, chattering excitedly about where you two were off to next. And, in all honesty, having him around has kinda helped.

And although you didn’t say it out loud, he sensed this, too. Hence the only reason he has finally given you a second to breathe, curled up in his lap on the sofa, the beach breeze gently blowing at the white curtains, and the only other movement in the room being his occasional page turning.

When he hums softly in disdain at something, you are snapped out of your comfy daze.

You really do appreciate how much effort he puts in to make you feel better at times like these. And even though he insists on brushing it off as no big deal (“I already needed to make a trip to this shop, cutie, you just saved me from having to go alone” ), you know that his actions have always spoken much louder, and much more clearly, than his words.

Your heart nearly bursts at how true the thought is and you shift in his lap to look down at him.

He groans loudly, setting the catalog aside, his eyebrows furrowed as he pouts up at you, “Why are you moving around so much? I was perfectly comfortable staying how we were before and I’ll never get any work done if you keep squirming…”

He continues to pout, even when you take his face between your palms. Such a nice face belonging to someone with such a good heart. An absolutely gorgeous face, even if he does keep that indignant little scowl and crease between his brows.

You kiss this space between his brows first, which makes his eyebrows raise in surprise. But before he even has a chance to collect himself from this initial surprise, you continue planting small kisses to cover the rest of his face, making sure to leave no space neglected.

“Alright, alright,” he says once you’ve already finished, clearing his throat and turning his face away, “You’re treating me like some kind of puppy. I’m not your pet, y’know.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and pretends to be annoyed, his face still turned away. His refusal to look you in the eye, however, only gives you a better view of his bright red ears and cheeks, betraying exactly how he feels about the attention he just received.

“Oh? Well, I guess if you didn’t like that, I shouldn’t do it ever again. I admittedly still don’t know much about what kind of behavior is accepted in Lemuria. And I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything,” you say, pretending to get up from his lap.

He catches your wrist and gently pulls you back down, giving you that signature head tilt and grin when he reassures you.

“Aw, well, I get it. You are still pretty new to this Lemurian thing. Besides, it wasn’t too horrible,” he says, his hair falling in front of his eyes. He swipes it away nonchalantly, continuing, “I could maybe suffer through such treatment once or twice a month. Or a week. Or even once a day if you really felt the strong desire to. You humans and your customs are weird, but I can be a good sport about some of them.”

“No, no, there’s no need,” you continue to tease, pretending to stand once again, “I really should be more mindful when it comes to these kinds of things.”

“No, I insist. As a matter of fact…” he says, catching your wrist again and tugging you back down to sit in his lap, simultaneously managing to wrap his arms around you to prevent you from getting up again, “...dontcha think it’s my turn to give this newfound custom a try?”

+:★:+* *+:★:+* +:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+* *+:★+:★:+* *+:★

Sylus

When you arrive at the N109 Zone, it’s almost noon. Therefore you aren’t surprised that Sylus is still in his room, is still asleep, and is not quite ready to compromise that sleep for anyone or anything.

You know that technically doesn’t include you, but you don’t want to ruin his rest, so you leave him be for now. Instead, you decide to check out some more rooms in this grand house.

Your visits to the N109 zone have been much more frequent, despite this past week apart. But before this last week, you had come and gone with a frequency that Sylus had finally seemed pleased with.

In that time, you had familiarized yourself with many of the rooms of this mansion already. That being said, you could almost swear that Sylus brought in something new every single day, so there’s always something new to discover on your visits.

And now you find yourself faltering before a suit of armor you hadn’t noticed before. It must have been pure white at one time, but now has gone dark from wear, age, and transportation. The armor wasn’t made for someone of Sylus’s size, and you wonder what about it made him want to add it to his collection. You try to resonate with it to get something off of it, but nothing really happens.

Soon, however, you grow tired of the silent house and the suit of armor. You figure that a small nap never hurt anyone. Besides, it feels like you haven’t seen Sylus in ages, even though it’s only been a week. A long, tedious week of Wanderers and stuck up clients who you sometimes thought about leaving to fend off the Wanderers themselves.

Slipping into his bedroom, his bedside lamp is on. The dim light casts strange shadows around the room, but softly illuminates the man on the bed.

Walking around the bed, you crawl onto the mattress and begin to make yourself comfy, trying to do it slowly so you don’t disturb he who breathes deeply beside you. Once settled, you roll over to face him.

His normally strong features look so soft in this lighting, and his brow is furrowed slightly in his sleep, his expression one of a man concerned. Your heart aches a little as you realize just how much you’ve missed him this week despite trying to convince yourself you were better off without his incessant teasing. Reaching out, you mean to brush your fingertips over his cheekbones, but you suddenly hesitate before touching him. He sleeps so lightly sometimes and you don’t want to be the reason he can’t fall back to sleep.

But it’s already too late.

That frown of concern shifts into confusion as his eyes open—the color as bright and striking as ever—then relief when he sees you, sleepily taking your hand in his own and intertwining your fingers. Rolling onto his side, he smiles faintly at the sight of you tucked in beside him.

“I’m not dreaming, am I, sweetie?” he murmurs, his already deep voice even deeper with sleep, “It’s been 8 days and a few hours since I saw you last.”

“You keep count?” you tease as he brings your wrist to his lips.

“Maybe I do,” he says with a huff and a shrug, his still-heavy eyelids closing again. You know he isn’t asleep, however, by the sound of his annoyed grunt when you try to slip your hand out of his grasp, “Leaving already?”

“No, I just want to get more comfortable.”

His eyes still closed, he allows you to take your hand back. You start to settle in beside him, but thinking about how lovely and worried he’d looked when you first came in, you suddenly have an idea to hopefully help soothe whatever dreams he’d been having.

His brow furrows again when you take his face in-between your hands, but a smug little smile is quick to replace it as you place feather-light little kisses against every inch of his face.

He sinks deeper into the mattress as you do, his entire body relaxing as you surge with gratitude for the fact that he shares this vulnerable side with you and only you. By the time you finish, his smug smile has faded softly as he dozes off and on again.

“Hmm? Is that all?” he hums. Rolling your eyes, you chuckle, sliding back into the blankets, grabbing his arm and drawing it around you as well. Nuzzling his nose against the back of your neck, he murmurs with a voice as smooth as velvet, “Thank you, sweetie. It’s been a hell of a week and I needed that.”

“Don’t be silly,” you murmur, “Now go back to sleep, Sylus.”

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

Part 1: Xavier and Zayne Edition

A Short Little Tag List! 💕 (I hope you enjoy :))

@lemurianmaster @myeagleexpert

[forbebeandjam]

Your Fan | Bada Lee x Fem Reader | fluff, flirty

Summary: after some trauma. You’ve never been a fan of dance or music but your friends convinces her to go to a dance concert for your youtube channel. The video ends up being a big success becuse of Bada’s flirty eyes.

Word Count: 986

No warnings.

Prompt by @chloebebewebe I really hope you like it!! 🤍 it’s kinda simple 🥹

“I can spot you amongst the crowd…”

-

It was a bright sunny day. Many would take this opportunity to go out and have fun. You however, were stuck inside of your dark room slumped on your couch.

You let out a loud grunt and another scrunched paper flew across the room. As a content creator, you were expected to upload content weekly or biweekly but the week had drowned you with school finals and social events you had to attend to and you completely forgot to plan something for the week.

You heard your door open and you tired to look at your friends staring at you from the door frame.

“Y/N, we told you to be ready by six. What are you doing?” One of your friends said as she started to pick up the papers from the floor.

“You’ll have to go without me. I am really struggling right now. I think I need a nap,” you said as you flung another balled paper across your room.

“What’s the matter? Still struggling with this week’s video??” Your other friend said as she picked up the wrinkled paper.

“Yes! And I need to film today or I’ll be doomed!” You said trying to sink further into the fluffy black carpet.

“Try not to laugh challenge? Y/N, these ideas suck…” you friend said

“I KNOW!! What do I do?” You kicked like a child.

“I have an idea!!” Your friend said.

“We could take you to that dance concert you refused to go. You film for content and then post that. You’ve never done a vlog before!” She said.

You grunted. You were never a fan of concerts and music. You had never been fond of any because you were forced to do recitals and competitions as a child and you grew to hate it.

The only reason you would tolerate music was to pick the perfect sounds for your videos and even then, your friends usually did that for you.

“I don’t think I’d wanna go to that place. I really hate things like that,” you said.

“Oh, come on! This will be great for your channel. If it gets too overwhelming, we can leave and we’ll help you film something else,”

You thought about it for a few seconds. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea after all. So you took the opportunity and as soon as you said yes, your friends got to work.

They ended up dressing you in a pretty dress and shoes. They fixed your hair and forced you to do your makeup. You packed your vlog camera and started to make your way to the car.

“Before we get there, how is this going to work?” You pulled out your camera and started to film.

“We’ll get there and get our bands. Sometimes we get a little souvenir and I got us front row so we’ll get a good view of all the dancers,” one of your friends said.

You began to do your work and filmed clips of anything and everything. You got to the place and did just as your friends told you to.

Suddenly, the concert started. You never stopped filming and you tried your best to enjoy it. The dancers were absolutely amazing and you obviously cheered them on but you couldn’t help but feel a gaze on you.

Every time the dancers would stop and talk to the crowd, a certain girls gaze would fixate on you. At first you thought you were going crazy but as the time passed it became more evident.

The camera always switched between you and the stage but her gaze was never lifted off you. After the concert, both of your friends wanted to greet the dancers and send them off. Of course they dragged you with them making you hold on to the railing.

Soon enough, the tall woman that was once looking at you from the stage, immediately spotted you in the yelling crowd as if hypnotized my you. She walked right up to you and held your hand.

You were taken aback by her actions and you didn’t know if it was the warmth of her hand or her sweet smiled that made your heart flutter.

“Thank you for coming out to support us. It means a lot to have such a star like you here,” then it hit you. That wasn’t any dancer. That was Bada Lee. Renowned choreographer and winner of Street Woman Fighter 2. And she knew who you were.

Your face turned a soft shade if pink and butterflies filled your stomach.

“Oh, it was my pleasure. I really enjoyed every bit of it. Thank you for having us,” you said. Her hand never leaving yours and she started to caressed your hand with her thumb.

You felt your knees almost buckle at her actions and you swallowed the knot in your throat.

“Hope to see you again soon,” Bada said before slowly walking away not letting go of your hand till she was far away and finally had to let go.

You took a deep breath and smiled.

“Looks like someone is starting to grow fond of dance, huh?” Your friend said.

“More like growing fond of the dancer,” they giggled and you pushed them aside.

But they were right.

You didn’t want to admit it but something about Bada… more like everything about Bada made you want more. You wanted to find a way to be closer to her even for a few seconds more…

You ended up editing and uploading the video to your YouTube channel as a vlog and in a matter of hours it had tons of views and shares.

Your clips were all over Bada’s fan pages on Twitter, TikTok, instagram, and much more. All crediting you and using funny captions or imagine captions.

All you could do was giggle and hope that you’d get to see the tall girl again.

Thank you for reading!🩵

[insomniadreamzz]

Imma go combine two requests in that one.

Request 1: i was thinking if you could write something like jinx using her shimmer speed for fucking?

Request 2: If you still take requests, and when you get a chance, could you do a G!P Jinx x fem reader? The scenario I was picturing was that they are cuddling with the reader in Jinx's lap, and the reader is sort of grinding against her as they try and reposition themselves. And they're unaware of what it's doing to Jinx and eventually Jinx has enough and and fucks the reader right then and there.

———

My good girl

Mentions of G!P, smut, rough sex, overstimulation, blowjob, bratty Reader, dom!Jinx

You finally got Jinx away from her work bench, cuddling for a while now, you straddling her lap while your head rested in the crook of her neck. You loved cuddling with her, inhaling her beautiful scent. In moments like this even Jinx was calm, not being her usual bubbly self. The only thing that you could hear was her calm breathing and feeling her hand caress up and down your back. Jinx showing affection like this is a rare thing so you enjoyed every second.

„I love you.“ You whispered, your breath tickling her a little, she pressed a kiss on your forehead. „I love you too.“ You loved hearing her say that, slightly shifting on her lap to reposition yourself a little, feeling how Jinx‘s body tensed up but she didn’t say anything yet. You did move again, your crotch grinding against hers and you leaned up to have a better view of her now, you could see her cheeks being flushed red and her expression showing a little bit of weakness. You didn’t think about anything not innocent so you didn’t really understand why she looked at you like this.

„What? You okay?“ You giggle innocently, placing a soft kiss on her lips, as you do so you shifted again. „Ngh…fine that’s enough.“ Jinx groaned as she flipped you over, now being on top of you as she pushed you into the mattress. „Don’t you think I noticed this?“ She grumbled as her hands pinned yours down, she was being serious but you still didn’t get it. „Noticed what? We were cuddling.“ You mentioned and she let out a little sigh before pressing her clothed crotch against yours, making you feel her bulge.

Your cheeks instantly heat up, surprised by her getting excited so fast. „I-…I didn’t think you would get that hard because of a little shifting.“ Your words made her grunt, rolling her eyes annoyed. „Yea sure. You grind against me and think I won’t get hard? Nice try love, I am gonna give you what you deserve for lying to me. You know I hate being lied on.“

Even though you didn’t lie at all to her and just wanted a innocent moment with her without thinking about your own movements and what they would cause, you felt excited to see what she will do to you so you just played along with her. Telling her you didn’t do it on purpose won’t work on Jinx anyways if she is stuck in her own mindset. That’s what you learned about her very fast.

„Mhh…so you wanna put your little brat in her place?“ You just went along with the little game, not knowing what it would cause. „So? You’re so confident aren’t you? Let me fuck that confidence out of you then.“ She said with a husky voice, sitting up to remove her pants to let her hard cock free. Before you could react she grabbed you by your hair, making you sit up and shoved her cock inside of your mouth. „That’s it…use that bratty mouth on me.“ Jinx groaned as she moved her hips, letting her cock slide down your throat, making you gag a little bit on it. You tried your best to please her, letting her go all in and as fast as she wanted, your tongue swirling around her cock, hands placed on her hips to keep you up.

When she had the feeling she shut you up enough, only hearing your muffled moans and looking into your teary eyes, she decided to pull on your hair as she made you lean back a little, her cock and your mouth being connected by a string of your saliva as you looked at her beautiful pink eyes glowing of excitement. „That’s my good girl…I am not planning on giving you the pleasure to swallow it this time. I‘d rather want to make a mess out if you. Brats do deserve that.“ Her smirk was very evil, you knew that look on her face. She really meant what she said.

Jinx removed your pants and panties as well along with your shirt, wanting to have you fully exposed to her, smirking playfully as she gazed down at you, spreading your legs to see you being dripping wet for her. Your own hands move to your breasts, wanting to touch yourself but Jinx didn’t like that idea, giving you a little slap on your wet pussy which made you whine out loudly, whimpering after. „No touching. I am gonna touch you, your hands better stay away if you don’t want me to slap you again.“ She commanded you before adjusting herself properly between your legs, moving her cock inside of you deeply without a warning, making you moan out. „Ah! Fuck Jinx!“

Jinx only smirked playfully at your reaction. „Didn’t I tell you I will fuck the brat out of you?“ She didn’t wait for you to get used to her size as she started thrusting her hips inside of you, both of you ending up being a moaning mess, your tummy making a little bulge each time she thrusted into you made her know she was just hitting the right spot. Her eyes started glowing a lot again, a sign that showed whenever she used her shimmer which made her thrust into you in a inhuman speed, making you moan uncontrollably as your legs clenched around her, reaching your orgasm as your juices spilled all over her cock.

Jinx didn’t think of stopping yet, throwing her head back as she moaned out loudly, little strings of pink light following her eyds as she moved her head back. „J-Jinx! Stop!…I-I can’t-…ahh!“ You try to beg her to stop feeling overstimulated, not even able to form proper words, your whimpering moans cutting of your words. Jinx loved everything about this, looking down at you with such a needy gaze, you were wondering how she could keep herself from cumming.

„Naw…I am sure you can baby. You are my good girl. You can take it.“ She encouraged you, still pounding into you hard and fast, filling up the room with lewd wet sounds. Your juices helping her to slide in even more easier. „Hnng! You are so good for me, taking my punishment so good huh? Yes that’s it, good girl, my good girl.“ She groaned in between her moaning, biting her lower lip, a sign she was close and so were you, cumming again with a whine, your legs trembling underneath her, arching your back, tears of pleasure running down your eyes and finally Jinx reached her high as well, pulling out to cum on your lower tummy, making a mess out of you. „God…so sexy for me…“ She mumbled under her breath, jerking herself off on you before she leaned down, running her tongue along your wet folds, tasting your juices mixed together, feeling you twitch when her tongue reached your clit.

Jinx was satisfied for now, seeing you all done as you are still not ready to form words, being out of breath. „Next time don’t be so bratty and I will cum inside you instead~“ She said with her usual playful voice like she didn’t just dominate you and fucked you breathless.

She positioned herself back beside you, pulling you close to her chest as she began to be her soft, loving self again towards you, whispering so softly to you. „You’re mine, remember that.“ You just nod, feeling your body already feeling sore and she knew that, keeping you close to her until you both eventually fall asleep in each others arms.

[venomous-qwille]

Hi Qwille!

So I was wondering because I’m struggling with this myself- how did you continuously improve with art when you were first still building upon your skills? Like to get to a level that could be professional?

And I think I mean this in more of a mental capacity way. I tend to get angry at the fact that I’m not better by now and feel like I struggle by the skin of my teeth to improve from where I’m at every time, even if objectively speaking I’m already better than people would expect me to be.

I just feel like there’s a better way to go about it than being fueled by anger or spite. I enjoy art, and I’m proud of my work, but I don’t know how to *not* be angry at myself for not being better at it. How do you accept self criticism with grace when it comes to your work? Or how did you, when you were younger? If that’s a question you’re willing to ask, of course! Thank you <3

Hiya! So, I'll start out by saying that this is absolutely the hardest part about learning to draw/paint. The continuous failure and discontent with the work we produce is a constant struggle that is, I believe, the main reason people stop trying to learn at all.

It's okay to get angry and sad, it's okay to be dissatisfied. It's a very cruel joke that, as artists, our eye will improve faster than our ability to draw. We are constantly chasing a carrot that is being pulled further away from us. For me: my improvement was not constant. There were several points where I didn't draw for years, because of other life factors and because the art I was creating brought me no joy.

Things had to change when I decided that I wanted to do art professionally. I needed to improve and improve fast, so I bent a lot of time towards studies. I found that the things I got better at the fastest were the ones where I found studying to be really fun. I really enjoy copying master paintings- especially the nineteenth and twentieth century realists. Finding fun in doing them for the sake of doing them really helped me improve fast because it wasn't stressful- I was just creating art I liked, even if they were copies.

I think accepting that the main joy of art is in the creating, not the result, really helped me be at peace with my artwork. Also, becoming a professional artist and realising that I didnt own what I created- and that I was subject to the (often questionable) tastes of my commissioners/art directors/stakeholders really allowed me to unlatch my emotional self from my work.

Every piece is a step, sometimes you will hit your bellcurve, make the best thing you are currently capable of making- and fuck that feels good- but often you wont, and you wont know why you dont like it. Learning to enjoy the push towards those small moments, the slow improvement as you gradually grasp new skills, learning to love learning, that is the most curative thing. Once I started to enjoy failing, because it meant I was learning- and once I started forgiving myself for not picking everything up straight away- I was much, much happier.

It's okay for it to be hard and your emotions are valid. Forgive yourself for having them and try to find something you enjoy about the process. Recontextualise your mistakes as what they are: not a failure, but just another step up the giant mountain of your art journey. There is always a higher peak. The journey never ends. Stop looking at the top and just enjoy the view and the mountain air. (And for fucks sake don't compare yourself to other people. They're not even climbing the same landmass.)

[seitmai]

Wow I just have many thoughts...

All you could do was offer a prayer to the Gods for him.  The next time you saw him, he was no longer a barbarian gladiator hailed from a distant land, but the new – and rightful – Emperor of Rome. His name was not Hanno, but Lucius Verus Aurelius, and he was the son of the recently passed Queen Lucilla, whom Rome still mourned. 

Seems like the prayers worked 🤭

You would have helped him disrobe too, already used to it from your days of serving Geta, but he chose to do so himself. He was not quite used to his every need being attended to, self-sufficiency deeply ingrained in his being. Mostly, he waved away other servants, leaving you instead to care for him personally. 

I feel like he would be overwhelmed with so many people there to help him, so he just keeps the bare minimum or rather the people he really want to have around him

Neither place felt like home, just the past and the present, and perhaps he was viewing things the same way. You could imagine, even understand, the bittersweetness of returning to a place one thought they might never see again. 

They probably share those feelings about home 🥺

He had the barest of smiles on his handsome face, but you could tell it was genuine. You felt one corner of your lips tugging upwards, but you looked away out of propriety. Even if you were in the same room, you were leagues apart, and it would do you no good to try to imagine otherwise.

Ahhh those shared glances 🥰

“Ovid, Sappho, Horace…” You became a little flustered as he raised his eyebrows. “My mother was a bit of a romantic.” “And you?” It was your turn to huff with amusement, looking down at your hands. “I don’t believe I inherited that trait, no.”

Oh he is probably so disappointed by that 🙈

The truth was that in a place such as Rome, love was quite hard to come by. You didn’t actively search for it, its ephemeral nature making you less inclined to, but you were no complete stranger to it. You’d never let it take root, though, for it was not something you could afford to have. 

Everyone deserves love though 🥺🫶🏻

“What about you, Dominus?” “Me?” he said. “I suppose… I’m not entirely sure anymore. I used to be, at one point.”

Let's find it again 😌

Your face heated up at the mere thought of it. “I could never be so bold…” “I insist,” he said, holding up a hand as you began to stammer again. “Perhaps only when it is just the two of us, if you’d prefer.” “I will certainly try my best,” you said with an awkward grin, trying to keep your composure. He chuckled. “Good enough for me.”

I'm just in love with this little conversation 😍

He enjoyed the mellifluous sound of your voice, so at odds with your serious expression when you were concentrating. To have him as your sole audience was already titillating,  but the fact that he paid close attention was even more of a rush.

To have someone listen to you and wanting to hear your thoughts is just such a great way to show love 🥹

During the day, you anxiously looked forward to those handful of hours in which everything else disappeared. No speak of Rome, politics, or bitter memories, content with being each other’s brief escape.

That's just so cute 🥰

Yet he never made you feel inferior, often encouraging you to share your thoughts and opinions with him despite your reticence. You would even dare to say he cared, or at least that’s what you wanted to believe.

🥹🥹🥹

He glanced over his shoulder at you as you silently trailed behind them, but you didn’t meet his gaze.

Not the glance over the shoulder 🥺

“Ah, perhaps in the future, when I have more time to worry about such things,” he said, politely noncommittal. “But I appreciate the offer.”

He said "yeah thanks, but no thanks" just more politely 😅🤭

Even so, it was clear he had not wanted you to be hurt, and you were very thankful for that. You offered him a small smile and some tension seemed to leave his shoulders.

He really made sure she knows his feeling about this meeting!!

On the wall behind, there was a recently completed fresco of a gladiator riding a chariot pulled by two horses. For another wall, he had commissioned a portrait of Vesta, goddess of the home and the hearth, but it was still a work in progress. He was particularly proud of that one, an unspoken gift for you, his muse.

A fresco for his past as a gladiator and one for the future his wants, his muse😉

“I hope I haven’t tired you too much,” he said, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back. “You can take the rest of the evening off from reading if you’d like, but I would still appreciate some company.” “Well, I still need to draw your bath and…” “Somebody else can take care of it,” he cut in with a shrug, not preoccupied. You hesitated. “What would you have me do instead, then?” “Just sit back down, relax for a moment,” he said, getting up. “Here, you can have my chair. Much more comfortable.”

Urgh im swooning, he just wants her to relax and take care of her 🥰🥹

You froze as his face hovered mere inches away from yours, his breath fanning over your cupid’s bow. Delicately, he removed a stray eyelash that had been resting on your cheekbone, and he pulled back a little so you could see it on the pad of his finger. “Make a wish,” he said.

All you could do was stare at him for another breathless moment that seemed to stretch on infinitely. You licked your lips nervously, drawing his eyes there before they returned to hold your gaze. Your heart was like a nervous bird fluttering wildly in your ribcage. Your mind was mostly blank, but the one thought that popped up was ‘I wish he would close the distance right now.’

Valid reaction

“Lucius,” he pleaded, loathing the title. “Say it, please.”

The pleading 😮‍💨🥰

“Lucius,” you said finally, though your eyes still spelled defiance when you glanced at him. “Is it not obvious? We both know it’s impossible.” Your lower lip trembled slightly. “I have a heart, too, you know? I don’t want it to be broken.” “I know that, of course I know that!” He said, placing his hands on your shoulders and crouching in front of you. “I have no intention of breaking your heart.”

😭😭😭

“I do not care for such things. I would never demand them of you. Even if we cannot marry, I will not marry anyone else that isn’t you,” he said with a firm, determined shake of his head. “But I can still give you my name, along with your freedom. That’s all that matters to me.”

Urgh I just love that you can truly feel how he means it 🥹🥰

“I have been thinking of nothing else since I met you. I’ve already made the arrangements… I suppose I just didn’t want to ruin the surprise.” “You honor me,” you said, smiling despite the tears. “You always have.” “Why shouldn’t I?” He asked. “You have given me more than you think. You brought me the peace I have been so desperately seeking for a long time.”

🥰🥰🥰

“I-I don’t even know how to thank you.” You placed a hand over his. “If you desire to give me your name, then I shall give you mine in return.” You told him your name, the real one, which you had been hiding ever since your Roman name was given to you. He had never asked you for it, knowing that one’s name was the only thing one could truly own in this world. And now for you to give it freely… He repeated it, testing its shape on his tongue, and smiled radiantly.

I'm crying this is just so good 😭🥰

You knew by the disarming earnestness in his eyes he wasn’t just offering the name, but himself, as well. His whole heart in the palm of your hand, should you choose to care for it. You felt as if you had already made that choice a while ago, when you first recited Virgil back to him.

They shared their names to now entrust each other's hearts 💕

“I will,” you said with an elated chuckle. “Of course I will.” He took your hands in his, kissing both of them. “Then first thing tomorrow, we will make it official.”

He is just so excited for her, especially because he has thought about it for a while🥹

You leaned your forehead against his, your noses brushing as he tilted his head back. This time, it was you who brought your lips to his with a tentative sort of tenderness, propriety still at the back of your mind. He responded in kind, letting you set the pace so as not to scare you off. If you weren’t shaking so much, you might have noticed he was shaking, too.

 both if them shaking just shows how emotional and meaningful it is for the both of them 🥹🥰

Perhaps you had inherited the romanticism, after all. 

🥰🥰🥰

The air smelled of night-blooming jasmine, the fresh sweetness of it bringing you a sense of tranquility. You leaned against the windowsill, looking up at the stars and trying to piece together constellations. The world seemed drastically different now that you had your freedom, so vivid, so open, so alive. You even noticed it in your posture and the lightness with which you walked, as if you were floating. Lucius had said you were radiant with it.

I love that he not only noticed it but also adressed her new aura 🥰

He’d insisted on taking care of you the same way you’d cared for him, eager to show you his gratitude. You had been hesitant at first, but at his unwavering conviction, you relented, curious how it might feel to be spoiled. All that day, he had served you reverently, taking time off from his duties to focus solely on you.

You shook your head, desire making you a little more brave. “I… I would love some help undressing, though.” His spine straightened, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “With pleasure.”

Ahhhh it's happening!!

He crouched to slowly pull the hem of your long tunic upwards, rising with it. You lifted your arms so he could get it over your head, the fabric falling to the floor unceremoniously. Your eyes were fixed on his face, drinking in his expression as he took a step back to get a better look at you. The bare expanse of your skin robbed him of breath, his eyes roaming over every curve and plane of your figure. He wanted to sink to his knees again and lay his forehead at your feet in worship, but he stood still, his fingers twitching at his sides. “Have I told you enough times that you are beautiful?” He said. “I don’t think it has been enough.”

Oh, he is so ready to worship her even if it's just laying at her feet

You nodded, silently granting him permission. He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your lips before standing up. He took it upon himself to bathe you, starting out by scrubbing your scalp. You leaned into his touch, eyes closing in bliss. He smiled at your soft, pleasured hum, and vowed to elicit as many more as he could. 

I've had a head massage before, so I get it 😌

His eyes fell to your lips, slightly parted with want. He grasped your chin with his free hand, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “I have been thinking about this for a long time,” he said, leaning in to brush his nose against yours. “But I hadn’t wanted to touch you until now, when you actually felt like you had a choice in the matter.”

This is just one of those key elements in this story that I love so much!! Him giving her his name, showing how much he values her and giving her time and space to truly make up her own mind if she wants this, it's just perfection 🥰👏🏻

You clutched his wrist tighter, his thoughtfulness only making you want him more. All those hours he must have spent yearning, unaware that you were stuck thinking of him too. As emperor, he had the right to take whatever he wanted, but having previously been a gladiator, he understood the monumental importance of bodily autonomy. Very few people in Rome had such a privilege and he couldn’t bear the thought of being the one to rob you of it. 

A truly good man ❤️‍🩹🥹

Gently, he set you down on the bed and pulled away to remove his tunic. This time, you were not meek about his nakedness. You brazenly stared at him, eyes mapping out the lines of his muscles, the pink, raised skin of his scars, and the soft trail of hair on his abdomen that seemed to suggestively point downwards. 

A sight to be seen, I'm sure 🤭

He kissed you again, and again, and again. You were so close to him that the lines of your bodies became indivisible, but it still didn’t seem like enough.

🥰🥰🥰

Neither of you lasted very long, but it didn’t matter, as you were nowhere near spent. Lucius, still in the afterglow of his orgasm, lazily began to kiss you all over, wanting to discover every mole and freckle, every tender spot that made you squirm, and every other little detail that made you you. 

Aww rats just so cute, I love tender little moments like that (especially after some other things happening before 🤭)

After, you lied side by side, facing each other. You’d still not had your fill of him, but you needed to gather your strength for the long night ahead. You shared a breathy chuckle, as if still in disbelief it had finally happened, and he kissed your sweat-slick forehead.

I'm a true sucker for post-sex laughter and giggles shared together 🥰

He was just as grateful to have found you, his peace, his solace, the woman who would always guard his heart. He murmured your name reverently, a reminder that you were his, and he was yours.

I just loved this so so much 🥹🥰👏🏻

Imperator

Also on AO3

Pairing: Lucius Verus Aurelius x Fem!Reader

WC: 6.7k words

Summary: Once, you only had the memory of the curious barbarian poet, entertaining guests at a party with both violence and verse. But it's not until you see him again, now as emperor, that you get to know the man underneath the titles.

Warnings: Minors DNI this fic is 18+, power imbalance (emperor/servant to freedwoman), mutual pining, slow-ish burn, sort of forbidden love?, lots and lots of fluff good lord, some jealousy, some angst, lovey dovey smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), maybe some historical inaccuracies lol (I care a lot okay), and iii think that's it but lmk if anything else!

--------------

"Love will enter cloaked in friendship's name."

– Ovid.

-------------

“The gates of hell are open night and day. Smooth the descent, and easy is the way. But to return, and view the cheerful skies, In this the task and mighty labor lies.”

That was the first time you had ever heard him speak, the deep timbre of his voice riddled with contempt. Moments before, he had killed another gladiator, his blood spattered on him like a gruesome adornment. But there was no savagery in his fierce eyes, no mere bloodthirst in the sneer directed at Emperor Geta, your Dominus. His glare was even, like a cold, blue flame that promised not just violence, but retribution as well.

You’d recognized the poem immediately, just as taken aback as everyone else. Nobody moved, the room’s collective breath held in anticipation of the inevitable repercussions of such an offense. Emperor Geta made the slightest move to raise his sword and you gripped the decanter of wine tighter, but your face remained impassive.

“Virgil,” supplied Macrinus, trying to placate him with a broad smile. “He was taught poetry just to amuse you, Imperators.”

There was another momentary pause in which neither twin was sure if they should believe him. But then, Caracalla snorted, standing up to clap the taller man’s shoulder.

“A poet,” He said, laughing. “That’s genius, Macrinus.”

“Yes, certainly very amusing,” Geta said begrudgingly, his jaw clenched. 

He and the gladiator had not stopped staring at each other for one moment, like two vipers poised to strike. 

“Good, I thought you’d like that,” Macrinus said, approaching his fighter to grasp his shoulder, perhaps in warning. “We live to serve you both.”

“Well, I look forward to seeing your poet at the upcoming games in the Colosseum,” he spits out, throwing the sword aside with a loud clatter. “Let’s see how his verses work for him then.”

Macrinus nodded at his steward to take the gladiator away. He was smiling, seemingly amused, as the steward approached him. As he was being shoved back to the atrium, his eyes took one last baleful look around the room. For the briefest second, you thought his eyes met yours, striking you like a piercing arrow, but then he was gone. 

You had no time to dwell on it though, as Emperor Geta returned to his seat and raised his glass to be refilled. But that didn’t mean you would forget so easily, even if your paths might never cross again. All you could do was offer a prayer to the Gods for him. 

—--------------------------

The next time you saw him, he was no longer a barbarian gladiator hailed from a distant land, but the new – and rightful – Emperor of Rome. His name was not Hanno, but Lucius Verus Aurelius, and he was the son of the recently passed Queen Lucilla, whom Rome still mourned. 

He was not cruel like the twins had been, rarely raising his voice, much less his hand. His demeanor was usually calm, but sometimes he stalked the halls restlessly, as if unsure what he should be doing. He still rose with the sun and trained for a couple of hours in the morning, already used to the routine he’d had as a gladiator, but after that, it was all politics. Endless scrolls of parchment to pore over, meetings to hold with the senate, and lending a patient ear to the populace’s needs. The weight of an empire was on his shoulders, and yet he didn’t bow under it. 

During the day, you served his wine and silently hovered around for anything else he might need. At night, you drew his baths, kept his torches lit, and prepared his bed. You would have helped him disrobe too, already used to it from your days of serving Geta, but he chose to do so himself. He was not quite used to his every need being attended to, self-sufficiency deeply ingrained in his being. Mostly, he waved away other servants, leaving you instead to care for him personally. 

There were times when you caught him looking at you as if you seemed vaguely familiar, a furrow in his brow when he couldn’t place you. You couldn’t fault him for not remembering you from Senator Thraex’s party, but there was a certain thrill at having piqued his curiosity regardless. Still, you kept your head down and offered no hints, as was your place. 

Until one night, while he watched you add aromatic oils and test the bath’s temperature, he finally asked the question that had been on his mind for days.

“What is your name?”

You were startled at first, not having expected him to address you at all. You told him your given Roman name, Domicia, and bowed your head respectfully. He pushed himself off the doorway and stepped into the bathroom, humming thoughtfully.

“Of the home,” he said, referring to the name’s meaning. “Are you Roman? Is that your real name?”

You shook your head in answer to both questions. “I have been in Rome for many years now, though.”

“I have not,” he said, a note of melancholy in his voice. “Yet I grew up here, in these very halls…”

He trailed off, looking around absently, lost in his memories. You could not begin to imagine what he had been through, what he had seen. You had heard of his being sent away as a child, with absolutely no choice in the matter, and could empathize with him. 

All you had ever known was a humble life in your native country, until you were stripped of your freedom and brought to the capital of Rome. Neither place felt like home, just the past and the present, and perhaps he was viewing things the same way. You could imagine, even understand, the bittersweetness of returning to a place one thought they might never see again. 

“We are honored and grateful to have you back, Dominus,” you said. “I hope things have been to your satisfaction.”

“I have no complaints,” he said, yet he sighed. “Though becoming accustomed to being here, in my current position, is going to take some more time.”

“If there is anything I can do to make it easier for you, please let me know.”

He inclined his head gratefully, your eyes meeting for a moment. “Thank you, Domicia.”

He had the barest of smiles on his handsome face, but you could tell it was genuine. You felt one corner of your lips tugging upwards, but you looked away out of propriety. Even if you were in the same room, you were leagues apart, and it would do you no good to try to imagine otherwise.

You stood up, grabbing the decanter from a nearby table to have it refilled. “Your bath is ready now. Would you like refreshments other than wine?”

He nodded and you bowed, making your way out. By the time you returned with more wine and a platter of olives, bread, and cheese, he was already in the bathtub, leaning back with his eyes closed. Your feet padded softly on the mosaic floor to avoid  disturbing him, and you left his refreshments on the table near the tub.

You settled at one side of the room just in case he might need anything, staring off into the middle distance and letting your mind drift. He glanced at you sidelong, his curiosity having only grown after your brief conversation. He still had that nagging feeling that he had seen you somewhere before, but he didn’t want to ask outright.

You felt his gaze on you but pretended not to, keeping your eyes averted. You thought again of the poem he’d recited, how different his demeanor had been then. You wondered what other verses he’d been taught, and if you might ever hear him recite anything again. He had a voice for poetry, somehow turning the words into a sort of enchantment, keeping one entranced.

“Doesn’t it feel… strange sometimes?” he said suddenly, staring up at the ceiling. “When things settle and you realize how far you have come? How much you’ve had to sacrifice for it?”

You hummed in agreement, waiting for him to say more. 

“Sometimes, I even wonder if it was all worth it.”

Still lost in a haze of verses, you spoke before you could even think it through.

“Fortunate is he whose mind has the power to probe the causes of things and trample underfoot all terrors and inexorable fate.”

He sat up, surprised. “You know Virgil.” Recognition finally dawned on him. “You were at that party, weren’t you?”

You nodded. “Your words then were just as sharp as your blade.”

He huffed, leaning against the edge of the tub as he remembered his barely contained hatred. “Were you taught poetry to amuse, as well?”

“No, I used to read it with my mother when I was younger.”

“Who else have you read?”

“Ovid, Sappho, Horace…” You became a little flustered as he raised his eyebrows. “My mother was a bit of a romantic.”

“And you?”

It was your turn to huff with amusement, looking down at your hands. “I don’t believe I inherited that trait, no.”

The truth was that in a place such as Rome, love was quite hard to come by. You didn’t actively search for it, its ephemeral nature making you less inclined to, but you were no complete stranger to it. You’d never let it take root, though, for it was not something you could afford to have. 

“What about you, Dominus?”

“Me?” he said. “I suppose… I’m not entirely sure anymore. I used to be, at one point.”

His haunted expression told you not to press him for details, so you just nodded sympathetically. The two of you lapsed into silence, the weight of tragedy hanging between you. You’d had a lot more time to become numb to your circumstances, but it was clear the pain he was experiencing was still fresh. 

“I will be forced to remarry eventually.” He sighed heavily. “Produce heirs to carry out the lineage, show Rome a unified front.”

“Well, whoever you marry shall be the most fortunate woman in the empire.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, looking over at you. “You really believe so? You’re not just flattering me?”

“Of course,” you said, giving him a cryptic smile that made him laugh again. “I’m perfectly serious.”

“Oh, I am sure you are.”

After some time, he rose with a small splash, prompting you to immediately approach with an outstretched towel. His nudity barely registered in your mind, having already glimpsed him a few times. You wouldn’t dare to look at him directly, even if you were more than a little curious. You tensed as his fingers barely brushed yours in the exchange, but you quickly stepped back to give him more room.

He wrapped the towel around his waist, water dripping down his sculpted arms and chest. You went to start tidying up, studiously keeping your eyes on your task. He watched as you picked up the refreshments to take to the main chamber, a part of him wishing you would look at him instead. 

“One more thing,” he said and you immediately turned around. “Please, I want you to call me Lucius.”

Your face heated up at the mere thought of it. “I could never be so bold…”

“I insist,” he said, holding up a hand as you began to stammer again. “Perhaps only when it is just the two of us, if you’d prefer.”

“I will certainly try my best,” you said with an awkward grin, trying to keep your composure.

He chuckled. “Good enough for me.”

—-----------------

Weeks passed, and while Lucius still hadn’t managed to get you to call him by name, he had certainly gotten you to open up more. In the evenings, the two of you swapped more poetry, often sharing your own interpretations of the verses. At some point, he even had scrolls fetched from the library for you to read to him. He enjoyed the mellifluous sound of your voice, so at odds with your serious expression when you were concentrating. To have him as your sole audience was already titillating,  but the fact that he paid close attention was even more of a rush.

During the day, you anxiously looked forward to those handful of hours in which everything else disappeared. No speak of Rome, politics, or bitter memories, content with being each other’s brief escape. You still held yourself at a certain distance, though, always aware of the chasm between you. Yet he never made you feel inferior, often encouraging you to share your thoughts and opinions with him despite your reticence. You would even dare to say he cared, or at least that’s what you wanted to believe.

You wouldn’t necessarily say you were getting attached, for that would be too unrealistic of a fantasy, but you could not deny the butterflies in your stomach that often appeared while around him. His easy, handsome smile, the kindness in his eyes, his patient indulgence when listening to you, and the effort he put into making you laugh…

But the spell was abruptly broken the day he received a visit from his friend Ravi, who had brought someone for him to meet – a respectable Roman lady. A widow, as it happened, just like Lucius. Her hair was perfectly styled, falling in ringlets that framed her lovely face. She wore a lavender-colored dress with a matching veil, much fancier than anything you’d ever owned, and was adorned with golden jewelry. More importantly, she was freeborn, and thus a perfectly good candidate for marriage.

You swallowed hard, otherwise keeping your expression neutral. You hadn’t thought he would start meeting potential brides so soon, and you certainly hadn’t expected how it would make you feel. At least, Lucius also seemed surprised, not expecting his friend to try to set him up without consulting him first. Still, he assumed the role of gracious host and welcomed them warmly, leading them out to the gardens. He glanced over his shoulder at you as you silently trailed behind them, but you didn’t meet his gaze.

The three of them reclined on the couches of the outdoor dining area, shaded by a wooden pergola. It was a beautiful sunny day, the birds singing accompanied by the gurgle of the large fountain at the center of the garden. A gentle breeze stirred the foliage, carrying the faint, sweet smell of a dozen different flowers. 

You served them wine and hovered close by as another servant brought them food to snack on. Lucius had deliberately sat across from where you stood just so he could keep an eye on you. You’d withdrawn into yourself, trying your hardest to remain indifferent instead of worrying about whether the meeting went well or not. If it did, then you had to be happy for him, but if it didn’t… Well, at least that would buy you a little more time, if nothing else.

“Such a lovely garden,” the lady, Ilaria, said as she looked around. “One could never tire of such a view.”

Lucius nodded absently but said nothing, as if he hadn’t heard her.

“I could see you fitting in perfectly with all the other flowers here,” Ravi cut in, smiling with as much charm as he could muster to make up for it.

Ilaria inclined her head, modestly waving off the compliment. “Oh, you flatter me, Ravi.”

He gave Lucius a subtle, pointed look to encourage him to follow his lead. Lucius sat up and cleared his throat, only just focusing on the conversation. He had been trying to get your attention as subtly as possible, but he hadn’t been successful. 

“Er, yes, it’s always a treat to spend time out here. Certainly helps to clear the mind.”

Ravi shook his head a little and tried not to snort with amusement, thinking he was a lost case. Ilaria smiled, unbothered, taking a handful of grapes from a platter and popping one into her mouth. 

“I’d wager there is much on your plate, Imperator,” she said. “And having to manage the household staff on top of everything else… Must be a little overwhelming for you, no?”

“Well, I am a very busy man, yes, but it hasn’t been all that bad,” Lucius said. “I’ve certainly had a great deal of support to see me through.”

His words managed to reach you, softening you up infinitesimally. This time, when he glanced at you, you finally looked back. The ghost of a smile was on your face, but you quickly looked away before it could actually manifest.

“I see. Well, I’m very glad to hear that,” Ilaria said, sharing a curious glance with Ravi, who looked slightly apologetic. “Though perhaps you have considered that having someone run the house for you would take a big burden off your shoulders. I would be more than happy to lend a hand if you’d consider it.”

His eyebrows raised slightly at her boldness, not missing the eagerness in her gaze, poorly concealed behind her innocently helpful demeanor. He certainly did not want to get her hopes up, but he smiled graciously to soften the blow.

“Ah, perhaps in the future, when I have more time to worry about such things,” he said, politely noncommittal. “But I appreciate the offer.”

Her smile wavered and then froze, not wanting to seem too disappointed. “Of course, Imperator.”

For the remainder of their visit, Lucius let them do most of the talking, any remarks he made were studiously polite and yet still a little aloof. Finally, after a few hours, he excused himself, needing to return to his duties. Ravi seemed hesitant, like he wanted to stay behind and speak to him privately, but he would have to wait for another day. He escorted them both out, thanking them for visiting, but he did not exactly invite Ilaria to return to the palace. Her disappointment was more palpable then, but she hid it with as much grace as she could muster.

When they were gone, he turned to you with a shake of his head and a sigh, grinning with bewilderment.

“I do not enjoy being ambushed,” he said as if he felt the need to explain himself. “Decent enough as she seemed.”

You bowed your head in agreement, more relieved than you would like to admit. You had no real reason to have been upset earlier, given that there was nothing between you except for a certain kinship. Even so, it was clear he had not wanted you to be hurt, and you were very thankful for that. You offered him a small smile and some tension seemed to leave his shoulders.

He inclined his head towards the eastern hallway leading to his study. “Come, I would like you to read some documents to me. I can get work done faster that way.”

The tablinum was spacious but cozy, with a door to one side that led to a smaller patio. Before, the twin emperors had never used the room, but now it seemed well lived in. There was a mess of scrolls and wax tablets all over his desk that he still hadn’t let you organize. On the wall behind, there was a recently completed fresco of a gladiator riding a chariot pulled by two horses. For another wall, he had commissioned a portrait of Vesta, goddess of the home and the hearth, but it was still a work in progress. He was particularly proud of that one, an unspoken gift for you, his muse.

You lit the oil lamps in their alcoves, bathing the room in warm light. Lucius sat at his desk with a heavy exhale and scanned his notes to remember where he had left off the previous day. You sat on a stool beside him, unfurling the scroll he handed you and resting it on your knees. The texts you read didn’t always make sense to you, but you understood their importance. The fact that he was entrusting you with such work was an honor you did not take for granted.

“Start in that middle section. There is some stuff I would like to revisit,” he said, taking up his stylus. 

You nodded, finding what he was referring to and starting right away. You read to him for the next couple of hours, only stopping if he needed you to repeat something or in case he needed more time to make his notes. A few times during the latter, you glanced up to take in the focused furrow of his brow, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he pondered. You wondered what he might be thinking about, wishing he would impart some more knowledge on you. 

Outside, the sun was beginning to set, shadows deepening in the corners of the room. Another servant brought him dinner, but he didn’t seem too hungry yet. He handed you his cup of water when he heard you clear your throat a few times, insisting when you were reluctant to take it. 

When he was done for the day, he stretched his arms over his head with a groan and slumped in his seat. You neatly rolled the parchment back up and stood so you could stretch your legs. 

“I hope I haven’t tired you too much,” he said, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back. “You can take the rest of the evening off from reading if you’d like, but I would still appreciate some company.”

“Well, I still need to draw your bath and…”

“Somebody else can take care of it,” he cut in with a shrug, not preoccupied.

You hesitated. “What would you have me do instead, then?”

“Just sit back down, relax for a moment,” he said, getting up. “Here, you can have my chair. Much more comfortable.”

You were about to protest, but he gave you a look that said it was not up for discussion. You pursed your lips, uncomfortable at the idea of being idle, especially while taking up his seat. Still, you obeyed and sat down, hands folded on your lap. Feeling a little bold, you looked at him as if to say ‘satisfied?’ and he huffed in amusement.

“Wait, stay still,” he murmured suddenly, leaning down.

You froze as his face hovered mere inches away from yours, his breath fanning over your cupid’s bow. Delicately, he removed a stray eyelash that had been resting on your cheekbone, and he pulled back a little so you could see it on the pad of his finger.

“Make a wish,” he said.

All you could do was stare at him for another breathless moment that seemed to stretch on infinitely. You licked your lips nervously, drawing his eyes there before they returned to hold your gaze. Your heart was like a nervous bird fluttering wildly in your ribcage. Your mind was mostly blank, but the one thought that popped up was ‘I wish he would close the distance right now.’

You gently blew the eyelash away, your wish scattering into the air alongside it. The Gods must have decided to grant it immediately, for he did not pull away, instead slowly leaning in. His lips brushed yours tentatively and you closed your eyes, rejoicing for the barest second before you forced your face to turn away.

“We shouldn’t…” you murmured, the words hard to utter when a desperate want clung to your throat like honey.

“Why not?” He whispered.

“It’s not– I’m not…” You vaguely gestured towards yourself, unsure of what the right words were. 

He pulled back to look at you better. “Was I too presumptuous?”

You shook your head. “Not at all.”

“Then what is it?” He pressed.

“Dominus, please.”

“Lucius,” he pleaded, loathing the title. “Say it, please.”

“Lucius,” you said finally, though your eyes still spelled defiance when you glanced at him. “Is it not obvious? We both know it’s impossible.” Your lower lip trembled slightly. “I have a heart, too, you know? I don’t want it to be broken.”

“I know that, of course I know that!” He said, placing his hands on your shoulders and crouching in front of you. “I have no intention of breaking your heart.”

“Surely you understand where I am coming from, though.” You sniffed, keeping tears at bay. “I am not wife material, like the lady Ilaria. I have nothing to offer, no dowry, no family name, or even an inkling of Patrician blood. ”

“I do not care for such things. I would never demand them of you. Even if we cannot marry, I will not marry anyone else that isn’t you,” he said with a firm, determined shake of his head. “But I can still give you my name, along with your freedom. That’s all that matters to me.”

You gasped, the shock of his words akin to a bucket of ice water being dumped over you. Now you let the tears spill over, like a dam had finally burst. He kissed them away, his hands cupping your face gently.

“I have been thinking of nothing else since I met you. I’ve already made the arrangements… I suppose I just didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“You honor me,” you said, smiling despite the tears. “You always have.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” He asked. “You have given me more than you think. You brought me the peace I have been so desperately seeking for a long time.”

“I-I don’t even know how to thank you.” You placed a hand over his. “If you desire to give me your name, then I shall give you mine in return.”

You told him your name, the real one, which you had been hiding ever since your Roman name was given to you. He had never asked you for it, knowing that one’s name was the only thing one could truly own in this world. And now for you to give it freely… He repeated it, testing its shape on his tongue, and smiled radiantly.

“Pairs rather well with Lucia Veria, if I do say so myself,” he said with a proud chuckle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “If you’ll have it, that is.”

You knew by the disarming earnestness in his eyes he wasn’t just offering the name, but himself, as well. His whole heart in the palm of your hand, should you choose to care for it. You felt as if you had already made that choice a while ago, when you first recited Virgil back to him.

“I will,” you said with an elated chuckle. “Of course I will.”

He took your hands in his, kissing both of them. “Then first thing tomorrow, we will make it official.”

More tears flowed as a result of an overwhelming rush of both gratitude and love. You had tried to ignore your feelings, not uprooting them but instead silently letting them grow unacknowledged. For once, it had seemed worth the risk of heartbreak. After all, the love hadn’t stemmed from something as fleeting as lust, but a mutual understanding and respect. It was more than you could ever ask for, and yet everything you desired.

You leaned your forehead against his, your noses brushing as he tilted his head back. This time, it was you who brought your lips to his with a tentative sort of tenderness, propriety still at the back of your mind. He responded in kind, letting you set the pace so as not to scare you off. If you weren’t shaking so much, you might have noticed he was shaking, too. 

In that kiss, there was the promise of mutual devotion, sweet and sincere. You were still holding each other’s hands, as if afraid you might drift apart if you let go. You understood then why odes were written about this feeling, as all-consuming as the churning waves of the sea. All those verses had never resonated with you more. 

Perhaps you had inherited the romanticism, after all. 

—------------------

The air smelled of night-blooming jasmine, the fresh sweetness of it bringing you a sense of tranquility. You leaned against the windowsill, looking up at the stars and trying to piece together constellations. The world seemed drastically different now that you had your freedom, so vivid, so open, so alive. You even noticed it in your posture and the lightness with which you walked, as if you were floating. Lucius had said you were radiant with it.

He’d insisted on taking care of you the same way you’d cared for him, eager to show you his gratitude. You had been hesitant at first, but at his unwavering conviction, you relented, curious how it might feel to be spoiled. All that day, he had served you reverently, taking time off from his duties to focus solely on you.

You couldn’t help getting flustered at all the attention, his ardent gaze like a caress every time it met yours. His touch had so far been entirely chaste, but even the smallest, most innocuous contact was heightened with anticipation. The brush of his fingers over yours when he handed you something, a guiding hand on your lower back, even a touch on your shoulder to make you aware of his presence.

There were a few sneaked kisses in both the garden and the tablinum, each one of them leaving an undercurrent of warmth under your skin that promised more. It was like a slow, drawn-out game of chase, neither of you in a rush to reach its conclusion. If anything, it only made you want each other more. 

After the sun had set, when the two of you drifted along as if in a drunken stupor, Lucius went to prepare a bath for you in his chambers. You were nervous and exhilarated, every moment spent waiting for him to be done an exquisite agony. Until finally, he poked his head around the bathroom door.

“It’s ready now,” he said, beckoning you with a smile.

You followed him into the bathroom, hands wringing anxiously. Flower petals were scattered on the mosaic floor, leading towards the steaming tub. Flickering candles bathed the room in a warm glow, making your shadows dance on the wall. You looked at each other, both knowing what the next step was but hesitant to initiate it. He averted his gaze first, gesturing towards the door.

“Would you like me to give you some privacy?”

You shook your head, desire making you a little more brave. “I… I would love some help undressing, though.”

His spine straightened, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “With pleasure.”

He crouched to slowly pull the hem of your long tunic upwards, rising with it. You lifted your arms so he could get it over your head, the fabric falling to the floor unceremoniously. Your eyes were fixed on his face, drinking in his expression as he took a step back to get a better look at you. The bare expanse of your skin robbed him of breath, his eyes roaming over every curve and plane of your figure. He wanted to sink to his knees again and lay his forehead at your feet in worship, but he stood still, his fingers twitching at his sides.

“The evening star is the most beautiful of all stars,”  he said in a low voice, quoting Sappho.

Warmth spread from your chest to your face, and you smiled coyly as another verse came to mind. “Come to me once more, and abate my torment…”

You offered him your hand, which he took, and he led you to the tub. You daintily stepped in, sighing contentedly as you sank into the water’s enveloping warmth. He knelt next to the tub, leaning against it with one arm propped on the edge. 

“Have I told you enough times that you are beautiful?” He said. “I don’t think it has been enough.”

You huffed with amusement, looking down as you fought a geeky grin. “Well, about a hundred times with just your eyes. A few times out loud, though.”

He chuckled. “I suppose I’ll have to show you in other ways, too… If I may.”

You nodded, silently granting him permission. He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your lips before standing up. He took it upon himself to bathe you, starting out by scrubbing your scalp. You leaned into his touch, eyes closing in bliss. He smiled at your soft, pleasured hum, and vowed to elicit as many more as he could. 

Things took on an almost ritualistic quality, with him focused entirely on his task. You were loose limbed, letting him move you about as he used a cloth to scrub your skin. He didn’t try anything that might be deemed unsavory, though you let his tender, reverential touch reach places no one had touched in a very, very long time. But he didn’t linger, to your slight frustration, not wanting to jump into things too quickly. The flames of your desire were stoked slowly, warmth running through you like sweet wine. 

When he was done, he helped you step out of the tub and immediately got to drying you off with a towel. You caught his eye for a moment, his pupils blown wide with equally fervent desire. You stopped yourself from clutching his arm, wanting to anchor yourself to him, but he could still tell you were growing restless. He kissed your shoulder, tapping the tip of your nose playfully with his finger.

“Not done quite yet,” he murmured, not missing the way you involuntarily pressed your thighs together. “You’ve always been very patient.”

“For the first time, I fear it might be running thin…” you said, to which he smiled. 

He grabbed a small glass bottle of rose oil and lathered some in his hands. He anointed your body with it, the heady scent of one of Venus’s favorite flowers permeating the air. As he reached your chest, you took hold of his wrist and brought his palm to rest over your heart. He felt it beating rapidly, your chest rising and falling with each panting breath.

His eyes fell to your lips, slightly parted with want. He grasped your chin with his free hand, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

“I have been thinking about this for a long time,” he said, leaning in to brush his nose against yours. “But I hadn’t wanted to touch you until now, when you actually felt like you had a choice in the matter.”

You clutched his wrist tighter, his thoughtfulness only making you want him more. All those hours he must have spent yearning, unaware that you were stuck thinking of him too. As emperor, he had the right to take whatever he wanted, but having previously been a gladiator, he understood the monumental importance of bodily autonomy. Very few people in Rome had such a privilege and he couldn’t bear the thought of being the one to rob you of it. 

You kissed him in response, much fiercer, hungrier, than all the other kisses you had shared so far. A desperate sound escaped his throat and he clasped you against him tightly. Swiftly, he scooped you up into his strong arms and carried you out to the bedchamber as he would a bride.

Gently, he set you down on the bed and pulled away to remove his tunic. This time, you were not meek about his nakedness. You brazenly stared at him, eyes mapping out the lines of his muscles, the pink, raised skin of his scars, and the soft trail of hair on his abdomen that seemed to suggestively point downwards. 

His shoulders were squared with pride at your ogling, a sly smile on his face. He’d had an inkling before of your attraction, but to see it on full display was narcotic, and he felt himself pulse with an aching need.

“Come closer,” you said softly.

He did, climbing over you, his warmth immediately enveloping you. You hid your face on the junction between his neck and shoulder, embarrassed at all the thoughts rushing through your mind.

“What is it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow with amusement.

“Nothing,” you said, voice muffled against his skin. “I just… I do not think you realize how badly I wanted this, too. I-I don’t want to ever stop.”

He chuckled indulgently, nudging your head so you’d look at him. “Neither do I.”

He kissed you again, and again, and again. You were so close to him that the lines of your bodies became indivisible, but it still didn’t seem like enough. Your knees hiked up to his hips in a silent plea, but he did not give in quite yet, wanting to prolong things for as long as he could.

Still, unable to resist a little bit of mutual torment, he slid upwards until his hips were aligned with yours. You gasped as you felt the velvety underside of his erection against your slick folds, each small movement making you tremble. Your brows furrowed and your lips parted in a wanton expression, your eyes shiny and half lidded as you looked at him.

“Lucius,” you whimpered. 

“I know,” he murmured soothingly, kissing your neck. “I know.”

Neither of you were willing to break apart from your embrace, so there wasn’t actually much of a preamble. Feverish, he sank into you slowly, your nails digging into his biceps as he stretched you open. That first round was frantic, almost animalistic, all the pent up longing finally being released. His body rolled over yours with the power of the sea’s waves, leaving you awash in ecstasy.

Neither of you lasted very long, but it didn’t matter, as you were nowhere near spent. Lucius, still in the afterglow of his orgasm, lazily began to kiss you all over, wanting to discover every mole and freckle, every tender spot that made you squirm, and every other little detail that made you you. 

He settled between your thighs, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive bundle of nerves. You tried to prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, but he wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you closer. 

“What are you– Oh,” you gasped at the first flick of his tongue, the entirely new sensation disarming you. 

He tasted his essence mixed with yours, a groan rumbling in his chest. You tightly grasped the sheets under you, arching against his face. You bit your lip to stop yourself from making the most undignified sounds, but it was hard to focus, especially as his fingers were added into the mix. Your body burned brighter than any brazier, his arms pinning you down as he conquered you with his mouth. You shattered once more, crying out as he helped you ride it all the way through. 

After, you lied side by side, facing each other. You’d still not had your fill of him, but you needed to gather your strength for the long night ahead. You shared a breathy chuckle, as if still in disbelief it had finally happened, and he kissed your sweat-slick forehead.

“Now that was poetry,” you said jokingly, making him laugh again. 

“You put every verse to shame, my love,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You kissed his palm, adoring, and tangled your legs with his. A swell of emotion unlike anything you had ever felt rose within you. It was as if he had awakened a new part of you that you hadn’t known was dormant, bringing you back from an existence that consisted solely of drifting through days that blended into one another.

He was just as grateful to have found you, his peace, his solace, the woman who would always guard his heart. He murmured your name reverently, a reminder that you were his, and he was yours. You drew closer to him, like a moth to flame, and pushed him onto his back, straddling him. His hands came to rest on your hips and your eyes were full of mirth as you held his gaze.

“As it happens, I find myself compelled to compose some more with you.” You grinned playfully, hands sliding up his chest. 

He mirrored your grin, not minding the idea one bit. “Relentless, just like the great muse Calliope.”

“Well, when inspiration strikes… It can’t be helped, can it?”

“No,” he said. “Not when it comes to you.”

------

[winchesterwild78]

On the Eleventh Day of Christmas

Master List

Characters:  Ben/Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, Self esteem Issues, Light Smut, Pregnancy,

A/N: Day 11 of my holiday fics. I hope you enjoy this short series. I’m really excited about it. All work is my own, please don’t take it. Reblogs and likes are welcomed. 

I do not own the rights to the characters I use, these will not follow the story lines of the series the character appeared in. This is a work of fiction.

I gave Ben’s mom a name in this even though she’s not named in the series. 

Written fast and edited fast, please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

I sat on the couch touching my swollen belly. Feeling the little kicks of my baby girl growing inside me, I smiled. 

Ben and I had been married for over three years and I finally convinced him to try for a baby. 

I desperately wanted to have his baby. I’d wanted to since the moment I met him. Well, maybe not the exact moment, but pretty damn close.

He and some of Butcher’s team showed up at my office to take care of some business and he was focused on my co-worker, April most of the time. She’s gorgeous, long legs, thin, long blonde hair and very busty. 

I’m the complete opposite, well I do have boobs, but many exes said it was because of the extra weight I carried around. 

I was a little jealous of April, especially when Ben finally asked her out. She giggled and said yes, then they left. In the middle of the day they left to go on a “date”. 

Hours later when she came back her stockings were gone, makeup smudged, and her hair was really out of place. 

I felt a pang in my chest and couldn’t figure out why. I heard April giggle at her desk as Ben whispered something in her ear. 

I sat at my desk trying to focus on the mountain of work I had to finish before I left for the weekend. 

I grabbed my coffee cup and sighed, it was empty. I stood and walked to the breakroom. Hearing her giggle over and over in my head made me feel worse. 

What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve never formally met him, but everyone knows who he is. There was something about him that made me want to be with him and only him. It was crazy. 

I was lost in my thoughts trying to figure out how to push him out of my brain. This feeling of wanting him was crazy. I’d never even spoken to him. I didn’t hear the heavy footsteps behind me as I bent over to grab the creamer from the refrigerator. 

“Damn, now that’s a gorgeous view, doll.” My eyes went wide and I stood and turned. There he was, looking incredible. His voice sent a shiver down my spine. Which he noticed because of the smirk it drew on his face. 

I bit my bottom lip, unsure of what to say or do. I turned back to my coffee and started to finish making it. 

“What’s your name, doll?” “Y/N, and you’re Soldier Boy.” “Ben, you can call me Ben.” “Nice to meet you Ben.” By this point I was turned and facing him. 

Taking in his perfectly trimmed beard, his strong jaw, his piercing green eyes, plump lips. Oh god I could feel myself getting aroused and my heart rate picking up.

He stepped closer, “You okay, darlin’? Your heart is pounding.” I just nodded and my breathing became shaky. 

He stepped closer, inches from me, “You sure about that?” I made eye contact with him and held my breath. Oh god I would have his babies right now.

He asked me questions about myself and my life, and I just freely gave him everything he wanted. Hell I would have given him anything he wanted right there in the breakroom. 

His hand gently touched my cheek and I leaned into it. I bit my lower lip. I’d never felt like this with anyone. 

As he was closing the distance between us, April walked into the breakroom. She gasped, “What is this? Soldier Boy, what about us?!” She didn’t call him Ben, interesting.

He turned and looked at her, “There is no us doll. We were just having a little fun.” Her face turned red and her jaw clenched. 

She looked at me, “So you think you can seduce THE Soldier Boy? Girl please. I’m half the woman you are. Why would he want you when he’s had me?” 

I felt the pang grow in my chest. The cruelty of people making fun of my weight wasn’t something new to me. It's been happening since my teen years. Even now as an adult the judging looks, the snide comments and sideways glances seemed to be a constant. This time however, it hurt to my core. 

She was right. Why would he, a man built like a Greek God want me when he’s had her and so many other beautiful women. 

I felt the sting of the tears in my eyes. I turned away as I felt the tears fall. 

Ben crossed the room to her and grabbed her shoulders, pinning her against the wall. “Don’t ever talk about her like that again. She’s gorgeous and twice the woman you are, and she’s mine.” 

I lifted my head and turned to look at him. His eyes met mine and instantly softened. Did he really just call me his? What the hell?!

He let April go and she left the room. Ben walked back over to me and his thumb gently wiped the tears away. “God you’re beautiful, Y/N. Even with a red splotchy face.” He chuckled and I smiled. 

“Ben, why did you tell April I’m yours? I’m not.” “I know, darlin’. I want you to be mine. I can’t explain it, but I feel drawn to you. I understand if you don’t feel the same. We did just meet and I did just fuck your co-worker.”

There it was again, that pang of jealousy filling my soul. I couldn’t ignore it.

That was over 4 years ago, and the day I took a chance on Ben. Fast forward to now, and here I am sitting on our couch in our house, watching him fight with the Christmas tree and lights on Christmas Eve. 

“Why the fuck do we need a damn tree up, Y/N? It’s Christmas Eve.” I rubbed my belly, “It’s for her, Ben. Plus a Christmas tree with twinkling lights is beautiful at night and I can’t do it alone.”

“She’s not here yet, why does she need a tree?” I rolled my eyes, he could be stubborn sometimes, but I knew he was in trouble once our daughter was born. That rough, tough, grumpy man will turn into mush when she’s here. She already has him wrapped around his finger. As evident by the extravagant nursery he created for her. 

I tried to get off the couch, but being almost 9 months pregnant it was proving rather difficult. Ben stopped what he was doing and walked over to help me up.

He helped me stand and chuckled, “What’s so funny, Ben?” “Nothing, I love seeing your belly swollen with my baby. Even if you can’t stand on your own anymore.” 

Emotions and hormones got the better of me and I started to cry, “I know, I’m fat. I’m so sorry I look like this and you don’t want me anymore.” 

Ben’s eyes shot back to mine, “Don’t say that! You’re so fucking beautiful and you’re giving me a baby. I love every (he kissed my lips) inch (he kissed down my neck) of (he kissed my collarbone) your (he gripped my hips) body (he kissed the top of my breasts that peaked out of my shirt). 

My cheeks flushed red and I felt my arousal growing. Sex with Ben was always amazing, but since I’ve been pregnant it’s been different and at times primal. 

As soon as Ben found out I was pregnant a primal instinct in him took over. His need to protect became stronger. When we had sex he was gentle but dominant at the same time. As my pregnancy has progressed we’ve had to be creative with positions due to my growing belly. Ben’s favorite recently was me on top or he behind me, cradling my belly. 

Ben began kissing me deeper and walking me backwards towards our room. “Ben, we really should finish the tree.” “Nope, I’m gonna finish what I started.” He practically growled. 

Once in our shared room Ben began removing my shirt and pants. His hand slid between my legs. “Damn, sweetheart, you’re dripping wet.” I smirked as I felt my arousal running down my thigh. 

Ben began to undress as I sat on the side of the bed. I tried to grab the blanket to cover myself, but he pushed it away. He lifted my chin, “Please don’t, you’re so beautiful and I love every inch of you.” 

I bit my lip. He always had a way of making me feel so beautiful and desired. One of the many reasons I fell in love with him. 

Ben undressed and laid back on the bed, motioning for me. I laid beside him, the best I could and his hands trailed up and down my body. 

“Ben, I need you.” He grinned, “I need you too baby.”

My hand slid down his torso and to his thick, hard cock. My thighs clenched together. 

He helped me up and I straddled him. Taking his length in my hand and I lined him up to me. We both moaned as he bottomed out. 

His fingers are holding onto my hips and digging into my skin. I moved my hips as he thrusted up. Each thrust pushed me close to the edge. I knew I wasn’t going to last long. 

“Ben..I’m so..close.” “Mmm, let go baby.” My body responded to him and before I knew it I was cumming hard. 

“Damn baby, you soaked me.” He chuckled. I felt the warmth of my release all over me and him. The bed became soaked under Ben and I kept feeling it. 

I stopped moving. “What? What’s wrong, Y/N?” “Ben, I think my water broke.” 

Ben helped me up and I could still feel the liquid coming out of me. “Y/N, you’re not due for about 2 weeks.” “I know, I just think we should go to the hospital.” 

Ben cleaned off and helped me get dressed then got himself dressed. He helped me to the car and I climbed in. 

Arriving at the hospital we saw a ton of people waiting to be seen. Ben stormed up to the front desk, “We need a doctor NOW! My wife is in labor and she’s not waiting out here with all these sick people.” Ben growled. 

The nurse looked up at him then over at me as the contractions started. 

She grabbed a chair and had me sit. Ben was by my side as they pushed me to the labor and delivery floor. 

Once I got changed and hooked up the doctor came in and confirmed I was in labor. 

Ben began pacing the floor. “Isn’t it too early?” Ben asked the doctor. She shook her head no and told him everything looked perfectly normal. 

“Normal?! She’s having a supe baby and she’s 2 weeks early. There’s nothing normal about that!” 

The doctor looked at Ben and then back to me. “How are you feeling?” She asked me. “The contractions aren’t that bad yet, but they are getting closer together.” 

She glanced at the machine tracking my contractions and nodded. “Well, let’s check to see how dilated you are.” 

Propping my legs up in the stirrups she checked my cervix. I winced in pain and Ben was at my side holding my hand. 

“Can’t you be a little more gentle doc?” Ben’s voice boomed in the room. 

“Ben, it’s okay. She didn’t hurt me. It’s just uncomfortable. Baby, you have to calm down a little. I need you, she needs you.” 

He ran his hands through his hair, “I know. I just don’t like to see you in pain and I caused this situation.” 

“Benji, look at me, please. She is worth all the pain in the world. Before too long we will be holding her in our arms and all of this will be over.” Ben’s eyes softened and he kissed my forehead. “Sorry doc. I know I can be a dick sometimes. She’s just everything to me.” 

The doctor nodded and smiled, “I understand, and your reactions are perfectly normal. I promise you I’m going to take care of your wife and baby.” 

He nodded and she left the room leaving us alone. 

There was a comfortable silence between the two of us as we listened to her heartbeat fill the room. She was less active as the contractions came closer together. 

A few hours later the doctor came in and said it was time. I took a deep breath and grabbed Ben’s hand. 

“Are you ready to meet our daughter, Ben?” He smirked and nodded. 

After what felt like forever the sound of a tiny cry filled the room. The doctor laid our baby girl on my chest and Ben cut her cord. It was love at first sight. 

She had a great set of lungs, sandy blonde hair and piercing green eyes like her father. 

When the nurses took her to clean her, measure and weigh her, Ben was standing over them. 

He kept asking questions and the nurses were so sweet answering him and even let him help. 

“Why are you wrapping her so tight? She looks like a burrito. That can’t be comfortable for her. Is she breathing? Why’d she whimper?” 

I giggled seeing him hover. The nurse handed the baby to Ben and he walked over to me with the biggest, proudest smile on his face. 

It reminded me of why I fell in love with him. His softer side not many people get to see. 

He sat down beside me and smiled down at her then at me. “You did amazing, sweetheart. Look at what we made. She’s perfect, just like her mama.” 

My heart filled with so much love and joy, seeing him hold her. He was made to be a father. 

“Ben, we have to name her.” “Yeah, we do, but how do you give a name to someone so perfect? I can’t think of one that does her justice. It has to be perfect.” 

I smiled, looked over at the time and realized it was Christmas Day. “Ben, how about Noelle?” 

He looked at me and then down at her and smiled. “It’s perfect. Noelle Grace” 

I smiled. Ben didn’t talk much about his mother, but I knew her name was Grace. “Perfect” I smiled at him. 

He handed her back to me and I held her tight. “My little Noelle Grace. Merry Christmas, baby girl, and Merry Christmas, Ben.” 

Ben leaned down and kissed me and then her, “Best Christmas present ever. Merry Christmas, Y/N. I love you.”

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[justmeinadaze]

Kai (Part of the I'm In Control Universe)(Steddie X You)

A/N: I told you I was working on this :). This is literally pure fluff. Just Steddie being dads. This is a mix of some conversations followers and I have had about these two in this universe mixed with some asks.

Please Enjoy <3

Warning: Part of this universe

No smut, very light angst, mentions of readers uber religious parents and wishing they accepted her and her family. Their son gets sick so mentions of a simple surgery, baby boy has a nightmare and Steve soothe <3. Like I said...Just straight pure unadulterated fluff.

Word Count: 2957

Donate to me <3

“Hey, little man. Oh my goodness, that’s a big yawn.”, Steve coos as he finishes carefully putting on his newborn son’s diaper while you and Eddie were passed out on the living room couch. “Alright, buddy, there we go. Oh, oh, oh, I know.”

As the little boy grunts in what Steve perceives as annoyance, he places him against his bare chest and softly bounces him a bit as he heads towards the patio doors to look out at the morning sun just barely peaking over the water across the beach. 

“It’s a beautiful view, huh? Your mommy loves the beach. When your daddy and I were looking for a nice, big house, we knew we wanted something near the water. Your name means water…or sea rather…in Hawaiian. Kai. We took mama there for our sudo-honeymoon and she had so much fun swimming. The tour guide told us that and she thought it was a gorgeous name. We did to, buddy. Yeah we did.”, he grins. “Kai Matthew Munson-Harrington.”

Placing his palm on the back of the boy’s head, Steve tilted down to kiss his forehead and inhale is baby smell that you pointed out all the time.

“I love you so much.”

The man’s smile grew when Kai shifted, nuzzling a bit more into his neck. 

His father took that as a silent “I love you to, dad.”

***

“Whenever we dream, that's when we fly So here is a dream for just you and I.”

Eddie sings softly as he holds the bottle to the baby’s lips as his son looks up at him with wide eyes as if hanging on his every word. 

“Oh, here we see the wizard staring through the glass And he's pointing right at you Now you can see tomorrow, the answer and the lie And the things you've got to do, yeah.

Okay, dude. You all done? Yeah?”

After placing the bottle beside him on the table, the metalhead tosses the rag over his shoulder and carefully positions Kai over it before firmly patting his back the way the doctors showed them. With a couple more pats, a strong but subtle burp escaped the baby’s lips making Eddie laugh like a little kid. 

“Good job, buddy. That was a burp that can only be rivaled by your mother.”, he teased as he brought the boy back down so he could look at his little face and wipe his mouth. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

Kai’s big eyes continued to run over his father’s face while Eddie continued to talk absently. 

“I can play that song you know. ‘Sacred Heart’. Wanna hear daddy play it?” The metalhead beamed as the baby cooed and he careful rose to his feet to place him in his little lean back rocking chair. 

Grabbing his guitar and sitting in front of him, Eddie began slowly strumming the tune, smirking when Kai flinched in surprise at the noise before waiting for his father to do it again. He granted his wish and began to fully play while keeping his own eyes on his son as his fingers played what he knew by heart. 

“Oh, sometimes you never fall And, ah, you're the lucky one But, oh, sometimes you want it all You've got to reach for the sun.”

The boy kicked his feet excitedly as Eddie continued, beaming with pride that his son enjoyed hearing him play. 

***

Steve snapped a picture from behind your brother’s shoulder as he jumped up from behind the sofa causing a four-month-old Kai to laugh uncontrollably while you held him up with his feet balancing on your knees. 

“Where’s Matthew? Where did Matthew go, baby?” 

Your son looked around including at his dad to find his answer but jumped in your grasp when his uncle seemingly popped up out of nowhere before cackling.

“Boo!”

“Oh my goodness!” 

Kai collapsed into your chest as he continued to giggle while Matthew sighed happily, coming around to sit beside you both. 

The front door opened as Eddie came through and placed his things by the door. 

“Hey, baby. How was recording?”

“It went pretty good. We just have a few more songs to run through. Hey, Matt—”

“Hello, darling.”, your brother cut him off. 

The metalhead playfully glared his way before coming around to kiss you and the baby in your arms. 

“Little miss and little dude.”

Kai smiled and pointed towards Eddie who got the message as he took his son from your grasp. Seeing Steve outside, he opened the backdoor and you smirked as you watched the three boys you loved interact.

“I can’t tell.”

“Can’t tell what?”, you ask.

“I can’t tell whose genes he has. Can you?” When you shake your head, he gently swats at your thigh. “Liar.”

“I’m not lying. I just…I have a feeling but I don’t know for sure and honestly it doesn’t matter. They are both Kai’s father.”

Matthew grins as he playfully wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer so he can kiss the top of your head. 

“I, um, I did what you asked… Sent mom and dad a picture of Kai.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Dad’s reply was the calmest of course.”

“What did he say?”, you whisper already prepared for the answer.

“He said…your son is beautiful and has a cute smile. That…he can’t wait to meet him one day and that you are going to be a wonderful mother.”

Curling further into his side, you beam up at him with tears glistening in your eyes. 

“Liar.”

***

“Dada.”

Steve grins at the sound of his eighteen-month-old while continuing to flip through his camera’s settings without looking up. 

“Hey Kai. Did you and mommy have fun visiting TJ?”

“Ma…Mama…”

“Oh my God, Y/N, look how big he’s gotten!”, Avery squeals from his spot the other man had placed him in within his studio under the lights. 

“I know! My baby.”, you whine as you hug him closer before placing him on his feet and holding his little palm to guide him towards your friend. “How are you two doing? Get some good shots for the article?”

Your former client grins wide as he opens his arms and you let your son go to waddle his way. With a big hug, he lifts him into the air as the man you love snaps a quick picture. 

“Oh yeah. ‘Diamond Studio’s most successful owner.’ My mom was incredibly proud.”, he beams.

Steve glances your way just in time to see your eyes fall before you softly smile and praise your friend. 

“Alright Av, I think I got everything here. I’ll send them to the editor of the magazine and they’ll choose from there.”

“Thank you so much, Steve. I really appreciate you doing this.”

“Thank YOU for recommending me.”, he chuckles as he watches him hand Kai back to you.

“You should go visit TJ and ask him how he enjoyed his visit with his grandson.”, you tease as you playfully widen your eyes. “Oh yeah. He called him grandpa and I about died.”

As soon as the boy left, Steve came over to kiss your forehead before guiding you on to his set.

“Dada.”

“Yes, my love. That’s dada.”, you encourage as the man brushes some of his son’s hair from his face. 

Backing away slowly, Steve knelt down and balanced his elbow on his knee as he took a photo.

“What’s running through your mind, pretty girl?”

When you heavily sigh, Kai’s big eyes scan over your face as you smile down at him and his father takes another picture. 

“I know it’s silly but…Avery’s parents understood when he came out and explained to them what he did for a living. I just wish…”

“…your parents understood to.”, Steve finished for you and you nod. “That’s not silly, babe. For you both, you and Kai, I wish they weren’t so stubborn but that’s not your fault. They are missing out on so many amazing experiences including getting to know their grandson.”

Your eyes closed as your trembling lips kissed the baby’s forehead and Steve’s camera clicked. 

While messing with the settings, he came over to where you were and showed you the last picture he took. 

“This right here is one of the many things Eddie and I love about you, honey. In this one photo, I see a beautiful woman and mother who would do anything for her son because she loves him with all her heart. A heart that isn’t closed off and closed minded. A heart that loved two stubborn assholes and helped us grow into who we are now. We wouldn’t be where we are today without you, baby. Neither would half the people you employ and watch over like Avery. If they can’t see that, Y/N, then fuck em.”

Steve pulls you to his chest as you begin to cry but little hands pushing at you both elicit a small laugh. As you lean back, his tiny palms touch your cheeks as Kai pouts out his lips and lightly headbutts you as he tries to kiss your forehead.

***

Eddie holds his two-year-old son to his chest as you three wait for the doctor to come back with the results. Kai fusses in his sleep causing the metalhead to make sure he was alright as he continued to pet his head. 

“You don’t think they gave him too much medication, do you?”

“Eddie—"

“He’s just really little, Y/N, and that was a big shot of liquid. What if they gave him too much—”

“Baby, it’s ok. He’s ok.”, you comfort as you rise to your feet to sit beside him. “They said it would bring down his fever and help with the pain. At least he’s finally sleeping.”

“Alright, family, thank you for waiting. It looks like little Kai does have another ear infection so Miss Y/L/N, we’ll move forward with what we talked about with putting tubes in his ears. It’s a short surgery—”

“Surgery? It’s that bad that he needs surgery?”, Eddie interrupted. 

“It’ll be extremely fast, at most thirty minutes, and once we’re done you can take him home. We put him under and insert the tubes to drain the fluid—”

“Put him under? I thought you said it was short but you have to put him under? Isn’t he too little for that?”

“Eddie, baby, he’ll be ok. This will help him in the long run so he won’t be in pain.”, you try to soothe as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

“Can we be in there with him?”, Steve asks.

“Of course, but, um, we only allow, um, two…”

“Ok, let us know when everything is ready.”

After the doctor leaves, the pretty boy places himself in front of you with a big smile. 

“You two stay with him and I’ll wait here for him to come back. Maybe I can see if they’ll let me start signing paperwork so we can leave as soon as possible.”

“Steve—”

“I think it would be good for them both for you to be in there, baby.”, he whispers making you smile as well as you two glance the metalhead’s way as he hugs Kai tighter. 

“I just hate him being in pain. If I could take it all away and feel it for him I would.”

Gently running your fingers through his hair, you tilt up to kiss his cheek. 

“That’s one of the many reasons why you are an amazing father.”

***

A three-year-old Kai taps Steve’s arm rousing the man from a sound sleep. 

“Hm…wha…hey, hey, buddy. What’s going on? Are you ok?”

“I had a bad dream.”

“You had a bad dream? Ok.”, the man groans as he pulls back the covers and allows the boy to climb in beside him who giggles lightly when he wraps his strong arm around him to flip him over to face you and Eddie. “Do you want to tell me about your nightmare?”

Your son takes in the sight in front of him, you asleep with the metalhead’s own limps circled tightly around you. 

“I-I can’t find mommy.”

“She’s right there, honey.”, Steve answer groggily as he lazily points towards you. 

“No…in my dream…mommy gone.”

The man’s eyes fully open as he glances down to take in Kai’s nervous features as he reaches for your hand that on impulse you hold. 

“Mommy would never leave you, bud. She loves you so much.” He nods but Steve still sees the slight hesitancy as his dream plays through his expressive little eyes. “Did you know daddy and I lost mommy once? Not because she left or disappeared but because we were stupid.”

Kai’s head turned to look at his father, fully enthralled as he waited for him to continue. 

“Yeah, we thought we were protecting her so daddy and I left.”

“How can you keep mommy safe if you weren’t there?”

Steve chuckles lightly and through the darkness he notices Eddie smirk as well. 

“That’s a good question, little man. Like I said, we were stupid. But…we realized our mistake and did everything we could to get mommy back. We realized that she loved us dorks for who we are and just wanted to be there for us. We were terrified to let her in but when we finally did it was the best thing we ever did.”

“Why?”

“Because we love her and…”, he pauses as he kisses the boy’s forehead. “…we love you. You two are the best things to ever happen to daddy and me. We’d never let anyone hurt you or mommy. No one is going to take her away and no matter what the three of us will be here for you, Kai.”

The boy’s head turns as you sigh in your sleep before jostling you slightly as he crawls between you and Eddie’s arms to curl up against your chest. 

“Everything ok, baby?”, you mumble when you feel his hair brush against your chin. 

“I love you, mommy.”

“I love you to, honey.”

Steve watches with a smile as you kiss the back of your son’s head and you both drift off to sleep. 

***

“Hey, Y/N? Can we talk, baby?”

“Uh oh.”, you joke as your eyes meet your four-year-olds across the lunch table and he giggles your way. 

“Get out of here, butthead, so we can talk to mommy.”, Eddie jests before helping the boy to his feet and you three watch as he scurries to the tv in the living room.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, little miss, of course.”, Steve begins as they both sit on either side of you. “We wanted to talk to you about our careers when it comes to porn. We, um, we were thinking about retiring.”

Your eyes widen in slight surprise as your gaze shifts to the other boy who nods at his friend’s statement. 

“Ok, may I ask why?”

“Kai.”, Eddie answers as he leans forward to take your hand in his. “We’ve been doing this for a little over ten years? I think. Because of porn, we were able to find you and have the best life we could ever dream of, sweetheart. Now we want to focus on him and something he can be a part of. I love bringing him to the studio with me and seeing him light up when I play or sing.”

“I like bringing him to our shoots. He talks to everyone and sometimes during sessions they’ll ask if I can take a couple with him. He’ll strike a pose and it’s so cute. I love being able to do that with him.”

You smile softly as you glance towards your son who laughs at something he sees on the television as he jumps up and down, clapping his hands. 

“I understand. I’m not sure what you have to do or if I have to do anything. I’ve never had a client retire. I’ll call TJ later and ask him.”

“Are you alright, baby?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. It’s just kind of weird, you know? You were my first clients and technically my last ones. It’s like…a part of my career is fully retiring to.”

“But look at where you are, sweetheart. You own your own agency and manage agents who take care of so many clients the same way you did. Avery owns a whole fucking studio and was in a magazine praising how amazing he is. Steve is a rockstar in the photography field and always booked up. We’re about to release an album that people already seem excited for which is so surreal to me.”, Eddie laughs and your grin his way. 

“None of that would have been possible without you.”

“Mommy?”, Kai calls as he runs up to your side and rubs your arm as you try to quickly wipe your tears. “Why you make mommy cry!?”

Both boys laugh lightly as you lift him off the floor and sit him in front of you on the table. 

“It’s happy tears, baby, I swear. Daddy and dada were just…being too sweet to me…”

“Don’t…don’t they always?”

“Yeah, they do.”, you grin as you kiss his forehead.

“Hey, can I get one of those?”, Steve jests as he stands, leaning towards you as he tries to kiss your lips but Kai’s little palm stops him as he tries to push him away.

“MY mommy! You don’t get kisses, dada.”

“Pfft like you can stop us.”, Eddie jokes, suddenly beside you as he hastily kisses your cheek before running towards the living room. 

“HEY!”, he shouts, climbing off you to chase after him.

You and Steve smile as he kisses your other cheek and follows both boys out the back door towards the beach. 

##############

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[jaune-submissive-and-breedable]

Merry ChristmAss

(Canon divergence, obviously)

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"Thank you all for inviting me over for Nondescript Winter Holiday, Ms Rose" Jaune said as he sipped his hot coco. A large blush covered his face as he sat on the living room sofa. "And this hot cocoa is amzing, Ms Belladonna"

Flanking him from all sides were Team Rwby's mothers, sipping hot chocolate and chatting with the flustered blonde. After the fall of atlas, his Everafterian adventure, and the the shell shock of returning home, he was glad to have some company in during the winter festivies. With Ren and Nora enjoying their own date and team RWBY no to be found, he'd being lying if he wasn't a little happy that their mothers invited him to spent the holidays with them. Even if it was a little weird.

"Think nothing of it, Jaune" The chirper and perky voice of Summer Rose said. She sat down a platter of cookies infront of him, giving him a generous view of her bust before she headed back to the kitchen "It's the least we can do for you since you've been keeping our girls safe all this time~"

To his left sat Kali Belladonna. She place a gentle had on his thigh and smiled, "And no need to be so formal my dear, we are all friends here, so first names are fine~"

*After all you won't be speaking for long* She thought as she decretely licked her lips.

Jaune sipped more hot cocoa and sighed. True he was present for aa lot of their adventure, but in truth he didn't feel worthy of their praise and addoration. In fact, ever since he got back he's constantly began doubting himself as a hero. If he was a hero, why was everything so hard, why couldn't he protect anyone.

As if she could sense his inner termoil, Willow took up residence on his right. Placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, she leaned in and kissed his cheek, her other hand rubbing his other thigh.

"Jaune..." she started, "You may not know it, but you've change alot more lives than you believe." A blush graced her pale as she continued, "I can say for certain you've change mine."

From the other side, Kali watched with a cheeky smirk. "Easy there, Willow....Otherwise he might not want the present we got him~"

Jaune perked up at the word present. Even though he's been through hell, a fairytale world with an annoying cat, and the faced down the immortal grimm queen, he's still a child at heart.

"You got me a present?!" He squeeked, barely containing as he bounced in his seat. The sight and reaction of the boy sent pangs of lust through the bodies of Willow and Kali. Both women leaned into his side and began attempting to calm him down.

Hearing the commotion, Summer returned with a smile on her face. " I never tire of seeing kids jump for joy during nondescript winter holiday~" She sat on the coffee table in front of him as she continues "Yes, we got you a gift......In fact, I think IT'S TIME!!"

Jaune was confused as to why she yelled, but quickly came to the assumption that his friends were in another room with his gift. He kept is innocent smile until he saw two figures walking into the room. One being Raven Branwen, bandit queen and biologic mother of Yang. The other the immortal grimm queen herself, Salem.

"Surprise~~" she sang with a smirk as she watched Jaune get up to confront her, only for Willow and Kali to pull him back into his seat.

"Now now, that won't do~. And i came all this way just for you too~" she pouted playfully

"What is she talking about?!" Jaune demanded as he looked at the other three present.

The women smiled and rose from their positions joining Raven and Salem in front of him.

"Well...I know who stressed you've been lately, and I know we all grow tired of this war. I swear Ozpin is just gonna get our children kill in his wars, just like he did my Tai.." Summer growled before her smile returned "so I made a little with Salem here, and she agreed to stop her war on Ozpin..But." she booped his nose again "You have to do something for her~"

While his training and experiences told him to run and get reinforcments, his curiousity told him to wait and see what the grimm woman wanted. If he could end the war without anymore blood shed, he do it. Even if it ment his sacrifice.

"Alright, what does she want me to do?" he replied, patiently waiting for a reply.

Salem smiled and chuckled at his agreence. She closed the distance between them and pulled his chin upwards so his gaze met hers. "Tell me boy are you familiar withwhat your generation calls "Cake"?"

He nodded slowly.

At his confermation, she stood up and turned around, the rest of the women joining her. Before he could ask what they were doing or what this had to do with her request, he watched as each of them dropped their bottoms exposing their fat milfy ass to him.

"Ah...a....aa..." he stammered repeatedly, making the five women giggle.

"As for what you must do, dear boy, You must devour my "cake" until I'm thoroughly satisfied~" Salem purred

"And as a reward for your heroic deed, you can eat all of ours for dessert~" Kali purred next, giving her bellabooty a mighty slap to make it ripple.

Jaune sat on the sofa dumbfounded. After everything he's been through, everything he's seen, nothing could have prepared him for this. He had five curvy milfs standing with their asses out and telling him to eat them. He pinched himself to ensure he wasn't dreaming or still in the Everafter. He would slap himself until a shadowy tentacle wrapped around his arms and dragged him forward until he kneeled before Salem's massive pale moon.

"What are you waiting for?" She teased as she looked down on him. She placed one of her deceptively strong hands on his head and pushed him into her ass.

"Bon appetite~"

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Yes, I made an entire prompt around this image I had commissioned.

Anyways, please support the artist Prayforcummies. They did a really great job on it, and I should probably get one for team RWBY and Cinder since, you know...Salem's here

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Interesting facts about how Gringotts vaults work...

How you access Gringotts vaults is interesting, and felt oddly inconsistent to me throughout the books, so I want to take a look at it. As in, all the times Gringotts vaults are accessed and how they are accessed. Becouse a lot of fanon and Weasley bashing fics put a lot of emphasis on vault keys, but I don't think vault keys are that important, especially not with the older vaults.

In the books, we only see vault keys in Philosopher's Stone and after that they are shockingly absent.

“Morning,” said Hagrid to a free goblin. “We’ve come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter’s safe.” “You have his key, sir?” “Got it here somewhere,” said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter... [...] “Got it,” said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key. The goblin looked at it closely. “That seems to be in order.” “An’ I’ve also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore,” said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. “It’s about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen.” The goblin read the letter carefully. “Very well,” he said, handing it back to Hagrid, “I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!”

(PS, Ch5)

Our first encounter with Gringotts is in PS, even this early we see two means of identifying yourself as someone who should have access to a vault:

Vault key - for Harry's trust vault from his parents

A letter from the vault owner.

This suggests that the key, rather than the only means of opening the vault, works as an identification method to show the owner gave the key to access the vault to whoever is trying to access it or is accessing it themselves. I will note it's odd the goblin doesn't identify Hagrid or Harry as who they are since a key could hypothetically be easily stolen.

It's why the letter seems to make more sense. It's a letter of temporary power of attorney signed by Dumbledore that gives Hagrid the right to access a vault in his possession. This is actually something that makes way more sense than the key, which I'll come back to later.

But the point of it all, is that Gringotts cares more about identifying who the person is and that they're allowed to access a vault than if they have a key. The key seems to be just one tool to do so.

The vaults were reached by means of small, goblin-driven carts that sped along miniature train tracks through the bank’s underground tunnels. Harry enjoyed the breakneck journey down to the Weasleys’ vault, but felt dreadful, far worse than he had in Knockturn Alley, when it was opened. There was a very small pile of silver Sickles inside, and just one gold Galleon. Mrs. Weasley felt right into the corners before sweeping the whole lot into her bag. Harry felt even worse when they reached his vault. He tried to block the contents from view as he hastily shoved handfuls of coins into a leather bag

(CoS, Ch4)

In CoS, we don't see anyone bringing up a key, and it's likely they just identified themselves in the bank by other means. As I mentioned, what matters is a person's identity, not the key.

At the beginning of PoA we see further evidence of how the key isn't really that important:

Once Harry had refilled his money bag with gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts from his vault at Gringotts, he had to exercise a lot of self-control not to spend the whole lot at once. 

(PoA, Ch4)

As Harry's able to access his vault without it.

And Harry seems to be aware he doesn't actually need a key to access his vault, since he plans to do so when on the Knight Bus:

The sky was getting a little lighter. He would lie low for a couple of hours, go to Gringotts the moment it opened, then set off — where, he didn’t know.

(PoA, Ch3)

So the fact a key isn't really needed for vault access at Gringotts is common knowledge in-universe.

But the most interesting implications regarding vault access, come from the ending of PoA:

There is something I never got around to telling you during our brief meeting. It was I who sent you the Firebolt — [...] Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your name but told them to take the gold from my own Gringotts vault. Please consider it as thirteen birthdays’ worth of presents from your godfather.

(PoA, Ch22)

This is from the letter Sirius sends Harry at the end of the book and the implications are fascinating to me. I stumbled upon this quote when looking for something else and decided to draft up this post just because of it.

Like, Sirius sent a letter to Gringotts with Crookshanks, identifying himself as Harry (did he forge Harry's signature? Did he do something else? Do they have magical signatures?) to access his own vault. This has so many implications.

Again we see what Gringotts cares for is the identity of the person asking to access the vault, not any magical vault key.

Either the signature Gringotts has for Harry is incorrect or Sirius leaned to forge Harry's signature. both options could be hilarious for fic purposes.

Harry, at the age of 13, can access his own vault and Sirius' vault with just his identity.

That last one implies two things:

There is no minimum age for Gringotts vaults access or, if there is, it's something low, like 11 or 12. This means wizarding children are essentially treated as adults when it comes to banking since Harry had to exercise self-control over his own money at the beginning of PoA and there were no vault rules or laws that would limit his access to it.

Sirius made Harry his heir before he was sent to Azkaban. It was always my headcanon, but this is evidence of it. I mean, if Harry wasn't Sirius' heir there would be no reason for Sirius to be able to use Harry's identity to access his own vault legally.

Now, I know Weasley-bashing fics love to use the fact Molly buys Harry stuff with money from his own vault as evidence of theft:

“Look, here’s the stuff Mum got for you in Diagon Alley. And she’s got some gold out of your vault for you . . . and she’s washed all your socks.”

(GoF, Ch10)

But that doesn't seem to be the case. Harry isn't surprised she did it, and Molly told Harry she would be buying him things the day before. It's possible he even gave her a letter to let her access his vault himself. If Harry wasn't aware of it happening, I think he would have mentioned it's odd. Harry's pretty perceptive and not stupid, so I think it's likely he had given his permission to that since he knew of the plan ahead of Molly going to Diagon whenever it happened.

(Mostly I think JKR didn't feel like writing everyone shopping in Diagon Alley again every book so it was an excuse to have it happen off-page)

The final occasion of vault access I want to examine is with the Lestrange Vault in Deathly Hallows:

“Madam Lestrange!” said the goblin, evidently startled. “Dear me! How-how may I help you today?” “I wish to enter my vault,” said Hermione. The old goblin seemed to recoil a little. Harry glanced around. Not only was Travers hanging back, watching, but several other goblins had looked up from their work to stare at Hermione. “You have . . . identification?” asked the goblin. “Identification? I-I have never been asked for identification before!” said Hermione. “They know!” whispered Griphook in Harry’s ear, “They must have been warned there might be an imposter!” “Your wand will do, madam,” said the goblin. [...] “Make him press his hand to the door!” Griphook urged Harry, who turned his wand again upon Bogrod. The old goblin obeyed, pressing his palm to the wood, and the door of the vault melted away to reveal a cavelike opening crammed from floor to ceiling with golden coins and goblets, silver armor, the skins of strange creatures

(DH, Ch26)

Again, what Hermione is asked for is identification, not a key. From Griphook's reaction, it seems asking for identification is usually not necessary. I assume, usually Gringotts goblins have another way of knowing who stands before them, it would explain why the characters are never really asked for a key after book 1 — the goblins just recognized Harry and let him enter. (I'd get to why they didn't in PS later)

Also from the above quote, we see that a Gringotts goblin can just magically open even the oldest, most high-security vaults, making the vault key from the first book completely moot. We also don't really see keys used since then in, well, any of the books. We do see Harry mention it in DH:

“I think he would have envied anyone who had a key to a Gringotts vault. I think he’d have seen it as a real symbol of belonging to the Wizarding world....”

(DH, Ch24)

But no one seems to be using them.

I think having a key to a vault means you have the physical key, yes, but it's more symbolic than something you have to have with you to open your vault. It's like a token that says you have vault number 687, not that it's the only means of accessing the vault since clearly, your identity is enough.

So, the question is, since vault keys or wand IDs aren't the usual means to identify oneself, how do goblins know? How do you usually identify yourself? How do they know who can access which vault just by looking at them? And why was the key asked for in PS?

Well, I have a bit of a theory/headcanon/speculation about this based on the evidence I mentioned above:

A Gringotts key is essentially a signifier for the ownership of a vault (goblin ownership, the vault is borrowed by wizards, and whenever vaults switch hands wizards likely have to pay for them again).

In book 1, the key was needed since Harry has never stepped foot in Gringotts before. The key acted as an identification for Harry who didn't have a wand yet and who the goblins just met for the first time.

After Harry was identified once, the goblins just recognized him. As they do everyone else. (Since a letter from Dumbledore saying Hagrid can access his vault is enough, they didn't ask Hagrid for any identification (not that he has a wand he can give them)).

I believe goblins just have a brilliant memory for faces and once someone enters the bank once, they are remembered from then on. (I also assume you need to sign something so they have a handwriting sample to identify your writing by. Which they also have a great memory of).

I think goblins are just magically really good at remembering details. It fits what we see about goblin-made artifacts which are very detailed and ornate. How goblins just remember who owes what and who took what. So, I think the identification method at Gringotts is goblins' really good memory.

That's why The Thief's Downfall is important. It removes enchantments that change someone's appearance which is how goblins identify people.

All this means Sirius learned how to forge Harry's handwriting to buy him a Firebolt, which is a fun concept. (Where are all the fics of Sirius being brilliant at forgery?)

This is a bit of a random tangent, but I found it interesting.