#i couldn't find enough words to edit out

[absurdthirst]

Love Across Lifetimes {Marcus Acacius x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 20.8k

Warnings: War, death, kidnapping, attempted escape, nudity, voyeurism, attempted assault, violence, hand jobs, oral sex (female receiving), loss of virginity, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pull out game is strong, imprisonment, death by beheading, reincarnation, oral sex (male receiving), happily ever after

Comments: Sent to retrieve Caracalla's bride, General Marcus Acacius finds that you never agreed to marry the emperor. Falling in love with you on the journey back to Rome and discovering how dangerous that love could be.

A/N: Written before I saw the movie on Friday but just couldn't get it edited until now.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Marcus Acacius MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“I am getting married.” Caracalla announces suddenly, surprising his generals as they crowd around the table that has the map of the empire laid out. “Congratulations, highness.” Marcus secretly feels sorry for whatever maiden has been coerced or picked to marry the spoiled ruler, but he nods respectfully. “We had not been aware that you had arranged a union.” 

Caracalla grins. “That is why I need you, General Acacius.” He explains, pointing to a small kingdom on the edge of the Roman Empire. “My future empress is far enough away that I need you to fetch her.” He tells him. “Give her a proper escort to Rome.” 

Marcus frowns slightly as he wonders what games the man is playing but it comes off as thoughtful instead of disrespectful. “Then I will gather my men and bring your bride to you.” He agrees, trying to imagine the spoiled, haughty girl that wants to be the empress of Rome.

****

You growl as your arrow misses the target. You’ve been training every day but you are still learning how to fight. Your father wants you to be prepared to defend your people when you become queen once he passes. Your instruction adjusts your arms, “you must concentrate. Your mind is not focused.” He murmurs and you narrow your eyes, focusing on your aim after you reload and you release, the arrow hitting its target. You grin, pleased with yourself, when you hear the horns. Soldiers come rushing towards you, “we must get you somewhere safe, Princess. The Romans are here.” Your eyes widen, “here? Why - why are the Romans here?” You ask, stumbling as they escort you inside and the battle begins outside to protect you and your kingdom from invasion. 

****

Marcus wipes his brow, his skin covered in blood as he fights the men of this kingdom, knowing what his goal is, but they fight to protect their home. Why they fight when he was here to escort the princess to Rome, he doesn’t know but he had no time to ask when they attacked. He hears a battle cry and spins, swinging his sword to behead the man, his head rolling on the ground and Marcus’s chest heaves as the last of the men fall. He has won. Now, it’s time to meet the king and his daughter. The real reason he’s here.

“Do not cry, daughter.” Your father wraps his arms around your body to try to comfort you. He knows he will die, his army has been defeated by Rome and now the leader of that army will bring his head back to the emperor. “Show strength to our enemies so that they may know that we are not afraid.” The doors to the throne room are pushed open and a Roman soldier strides in, his walk confident yet weary. Covered in blood and dirt, he had not bothered to stop to clean up, eager to get this unpleasant task over with.

Marcus stands tall and watches you cling to your father. He says your name and your father frowns, “why do you want her? Surely my head is enough to satisfy the emperors.” Marcus frowns, “they informed me that she is to be empress to Caesar Caracalla. I thought this deal was arranged.” 

Your father scoffs, “then why would my men fight?” He reasons and Marcus tilts his head, “I am following orders. She must come with me to Rome.” 

Your eyes widen, “no. No. I will not. Father. Please.” You beg and he shakes his head, cupping your cheek, “be strong, daughter. Remember your training. Remember who we are.” He orders and nods to his men to grab you so he can step forward. “No! No!” You cry and your father kneels down before Marcus, “do what you must but know that I will curse the Roman Empire and her emperors.” He warns and Marcus swallows harshly, withdrawing his sword. “Make it quick.” Your father orders and you bury your face in the chest of the man holding you so you don’t see your father beheaded.

Marcus sighs as he lowers his sword. “I will not spill the blood of my future empress’s father.” He declares. The king is old and does not have too many years left, it is better to show you the mercy of Rome. Most of his soldiers are dead. “Your daughter will rule the world”, he tells the old man before he turns towards the man holding you. “Have her belongings packed and give them a few minutes to say their goodbyes.” He instructs, cursing Caracalla for what he has done. This is not a retrieval of a bride but a kidnapping.

You pull away from the men holding you, scrambling to kneel down next to your father and pull him close. You wrap your arms around him and he kisses your head, knowing he has no choice but to let you go. Your maids rush around to pack your things and soon, they are being loaded into the carriages that the Roman General brought to the palace. “You need to go.” Your father says and you shake your head, “no. No. What if - I do not know the emperor. He must be cruel. He must be, to have sent his army to destroy our people.” You choke, tears in your eyes. 

“Men may think they rule the world but they do not. It is women who are smarter, emotionally stronger. They manipulate the men to do their bidding. Be like them. You may marry a man you do not love but you will be Empress of Rome. You will have power. Power is stronger than love.” Your father murmurs and wipes your tears away. “Be strong, daughter. Rule the world.” He orders and you nod, glancing over his shoulder to where the general waits for you. 

“I love you.” You murmur to your father, knowing you’ll never see him again. “I love you too.” Your father nods, not letting you see how his heart is breaking. You try to step back but you don’t let go. Clinging to your father until the Romans step forward and grab you, dragging you away with a cry. You are carried onto a horse, the general swinging on behind you, and you sob as you are taken away from the only home you’ve ever known.

Marcus lets you cry, not bothering to offer you any platitudes or false words of comfort. He had just destroyed your home and stolen you away because his emperor wanted you. He’s sure Caracalla purposefully didn’t inform him that there had been no agreement, which angers him. Many good men had died for nothing. Marcus hands you a somewhat clean linen to blow your nose as he guides you farther and farther away from your home.

You don't say a word as you take the linen to blow your nose. You remain silent, refusing to give the General your voice as company while he begins the long journey back to Rome. Hours later, Marcus orders his men to set up camp when the sun starts to disappear beyond the horizon and he dismounts his stallion, holding his hands out to help you but you huff and kick his hands away, swinging your leg over to land on the ground with skills beyond a Roman woman. You have been raised around horses, taught to ride from a young age.

Marcus raises his brow at your stubbornness, secretly admiring it, but he knows that means you will cause trouble. He turns to his page and says, “have a bath prepared, I need to clean up, but allow our guest to bathe first.” He instructs. “She will be your future empress, so treat her with respect.”

You cross your arms and stubbornly stand there while his men work on setting up his tent and grabbing the tub that was carried on the cart at the back of the militia to prepare for you. You watch Marcus speak to his men, his body covered in the blood of your people and you clench your jaw. You don't wish to be empress to murderers, pillagers...monsters. You glance around, his men are busy and you see the horses are loosely tied up while they set up camp. You decide to take a chance. You run to the General's horse, swinging your leg over his back as you jump onto the horse, grabbing the reins to take off from the makeshift camp.

Marcus is talking to one of his men when he sees you jump onto the horse, his horse. “Shit!” The men start shouting and running towards you, spooking the other horses and causing chaos. He takes a second to admire your form, your ease in which you command the arrogant horse. Even if it’s no use. While his men scramble to stop you from escaping, Marcus plants his feet and sticks two fingers in his mouth. Emitting an ear piercing whistle that immediately makes his horse’s head rear up and change the direction he was running. Coming back to his general because he has been called.

You try to stop the horse, but he makes his way back to the general. You scramble off of him, jumping and falling into a heap. You hear footsteps towards you and you try to stand up, attempting to run but your arms are grabbed and you are pressed against the general. “Do not make another move, Princesa.” He growls, his knife pressed against your neck as his arm wraps around you and you hiss, sweat on your brow and you stop struggling, slumping in defeat.

Marcus hates how you look crumpled and broken, but he needs you to cooperate with him. Once you get to Rome, you can cause Caracalla all the headaches you wish, you will be his problem. Marcus just needs to deliver you to him safely. He softens slightly, pulling the knife away but he keeps his arm around you. “I don’t want to chain you up, but I will.” He threatens softly. “I would rather you make this easier on both of us.”

You nod, knowing you have no chance of trying to escape again if you are chained up. “Fine.” You murmur, inhaling deeply when he lowers his arms and his men gather around the horses, one of them taking the stallion back to the group. You are soon escorted into a tent, a bath full of hot water awaits you and you glance around at the soldier, “I will not strip with you standing there.” You declare with your chin raised up, “send a woman or leave me be.” You order and the soldier hesitates but steps out of the tent to speak to his superior.

Marcus sighs and dismisses his man before pulling the flap back and stalking into the tent. “There are no women here.” He tells you, making you snort. “I’ve seen the women.” You huff, crossing your arms and he frowns. “The camp whores.” He tells you bluntly. “Women who travel with the army to fuck my men. That is the kind of woman you wish to attend you?”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head. You’ve heard about the women of the night and their services but you know they are hungry for coin, for status, for power. He watches you shake your head, “then you will have to strip with a guardian. I cannot allow you to be alone since you’ll try and run again.” He says and you scoff, “you want me to display myself in front of your men? They will take what does not belong to them.” You spit and Marcus sighs, “then allow me to stand guard. I will turn my back.” He turns around to allow you modesty and you huff, unsure of when your next bath will be so you reach for the clip that holds your robes together, letting them drop to the floor, unaware that a mirror is in Marcus’s eye line.

He had meant to be true to his word, to allow you privacy, but the movement in the mirror had made him instantly tense. Anticipating an attack. Only to find your dress falling from your body and your beautiful tits on display to him. You are gorgeous, like one of the goddesses. He can see why Caracalla would send him to retrieve you for his own. He would want you, if he were in a position to have you. He clears his throat and looks away, only to be drawn back to the vision when you turn around to step into your bath.

You sigh as you sink into the water, not as hot as you like it but beggars can’t be choosers when you are facing your entire world being turned upside down. You see how tense the General is as you reach for the oils, bathing yourself with a soft hum. You want to show him you are unbothered by his presence.

Marcus keeps looking away and then finding his gaze coming back to the mirror. Watching as you slowly go through your bath. It’s incredibly sensual and his cock twitches under his tunic and armor. He has been a long time without a woman, and you are gorgeous with the fiery spirit Marcus likes.

You wash yourself, making sure you are clean for the arduous journey ahead and you stand up, reaching for the linen to wrap around yourself to dry off and Marcus is still turned away from you. You glance around, “I have nothing else to wear. I will need to redress.” You say and Marcus shakes his head, “there are tunics in the trunk. Mine but you’re welcome to one.” He says and you huff, walking over to open the trunk. You drop the linen to pull the tunic over your head.

It’s jarring to see you, to see any woman in his clothes, but Marcus grunts as he turns towards you. “Now I need to clean up.” He tells you, expecting you to demure and turn away so he can clean the dirt, sweat and blood off his skin and change into clean clothes.

You sit down on the chair that faces the bath and you stare at him, challenging him to strip off in front of you. You won’t shy away and give him the advantage even if he gave you the same courtesy. You want to irk him. Get inside his head. That’s your ticket to escape.

He watches you with a frown for a moment, but you just arch your brow and he snorts. Reaching for the thick leather ties of his chest plate to start stripping off the protective gear.

You watch the general that has stolen you from your home strip off. He’s strong, that’s evident in his form, but with each piece he removes, you see how war hardened he truly is. The deadly strength in his form has you shifting in your chair and when he pulls his tunic over his head, your throat goes dry at his exposed figure. His cock flaccid and you hate how your stomach twists at the sight of him.

He’s grateful that he’s got enough self control that his cock isn’t hard. You act like his body doesn’t affect you and he pretends like it’s nothing to be naked in front of you. “There are guards outside the tent.” He warns as he grabs his own linen and strides over to the bath, eager to clean up.

You roll your eyes at his warning and watch as he gets into the water, blood immediately turning the water red. You swallow at that. The blood of your men swirling in the water. “Is the Roman army always so brutal?” You ask, watching him wash the blood from his skin with the cloth that he grabbed.

“Your men attacked us.” Marcus reminds you. “We believed that we were simply fetching the emperor’s intended bride.” He sighs softly. “When they attacked us, we had no choice but to fight back, believing we were being drawn into a trap.” In truth, he regrets the bloodshed, and would have avoided it if he had known you were unaware of the emperor’s claim on your hand. “I don’t like killing needlessly.”

You swallow harshly, tears stinging in your eyes at the deception. Either by him right now or by the emperor you are intended to marry. “I never agreed to marry your emperor. I have never met him. What is he like? Is he cruel?” You ask, knowing some leaders can be too obsessed with themselves to do what’s right for their people.

“Sometimes.” Marcus tells you honestly. “He - has whims that drive him.” He knows that you could tell Caracalla and he would be angry at his general, but he also needs him to win the wars and claim the territories that he craves. “He will not like you running from him, he is used to being publicly adored.” He snorts, knowing how most really feel about the ruler.

You scoff and roll your eyes, “he sounds like a true Caesar. Self absorbed and focused on his own whims instead of helping the Romans achieve greatness. There’s no greatness in the vastness of the empire, there’s greatness within their people but from stories I have heard, they are starving. Taxed to their eyeballs and looking for salvation from anyone but their emperors.”

Marcus doesn’t confirm your comments, although they are true. “Then perhaps you as her empress can bring comfort to the people.” He tells you, continuing to wash. The water is murky now, but he feels better. He just needs to wash his back and his hair.

Your lip curls at the thought of marrying the emperor. You’ve heard rumors about him and his twin brother. How they make rash decisions based on emotions. “Perhaps I shall arrive and the emperor doesn’t deem me beautiful enough for his hand. Or maybe I will be too dumb. Or untameable. These are all things he should consider when picking a wife, no?” You tilt your head and look at the general’s back.

“You would think.” Marcus mumbles under his breath. “The emperor is very certain in his choices once he has made them.” Until he decides against them. He doesn’t tell you that, knowing it would be unfair to give you false hope. Caracalla wants you, so he will have you.

You huff, “I don’t know why he picked me. My lands are not conquered. My father will delegate someone to inherit the kingdom. I have nothing to offer.” You confess and Marcus grunts as he tries to clean his back. “

“I cannot claim to know what the emperor chose you.” He huffs, knowing he should have called his page into help. His muscles are sore from the fighting and he is not as limber as he might have been. He needs help to wash his back.

You see his struggle, your eyes glancing down to the knife that lays on the floor by the tub, clearly left there for him to use if needed. You see your chance. “I can assist you, General.” You say and stand up, kneeling next to the tub. He eyes you cautiously but hands the cloth to you. You grab the knife with your other hand and lean closer, starting to wash his back with the cloth. You see him relax slightly and decide to strike, dropping the cloth and bringing the knife up at the same moment.

Marcus reacts quickly, grabbing your wrist and squeezing it. “You want to kill me?” He growls, scowling at you. “Do it when you’re the empress.” He tells you. “Until then, remember that I hold your life in my hands.”

You drop the knife and he catches it with his free hand, placing it on the other side of the tub. “You’d never escape without my men delivering you to the emperor. They are on orders to take you there even if I’m dead. You’ll be delivered to the emperor. Dead or alive.” He warns even though he knows it would be his head if you are delivered dead but he won’t be looking over his shoulder the entire journey home. “Fine.” You hiss, “you’re a bastard.” You growl and he chuckles, “nothing I haven’t heard before. Now, you were washing my back?” He reminds you, handing you the cloth. You roll your eyes and continue washing his back, knowing you’ll need to make a new plan.

He can hear you fume and plot needlessly as you roughly swipe the linen over his skin. “It will take us several weeks to get back to Rome.” He reminds you. “I would rather this be a pleasant trip.”

His tone makes you clench your jaw but you know you can’t run yet. You decide to focus on your survival and you know the General is key to that. You clean his back, your eyes trailing down his chest to take note of the scars and blemishes on his skin. “You have been fighting a long time.” You observe, “you must be weary.”

Marcus hums, knowing that he is weary of war and watching men die. One day he will fall on the field of battle and his fight will be over. “It is a heavy burden to watch men die.” He tells you. “Or be the cause of their death.”

You nod, seeing the haunted look in his eyes, and you are taken back by it. You had heard about the General, whispers from men who returned from far away lands that the General was lethal but right now you see a man who is tired of war and tired of death. “I can only imagine the things you have seen.” You hand the cloth back to him now that his back is clean and you reach for the oils, deciding to help him wash his hair. Perhaps you can win him over with kindness.

“My hope is that because I have seen them, my children will not have to.” He murmurs, even though he has no children. He sighs and shakes his head. “It does not matter. Wars will always be fought.”

You pour the oils into your palms, rubbing them together and you slide your fingers through his strands, your fingertips turning red as you wash his hair. “War will always be a man’s game. If women ruled the world, there would be no war. Simply silence.”

“Women are smarter than men.” Marcus’ eyes slide closed as he leans back. “I have always thought so. You might not have the strength that I do, but you think differently.” He chuckles.

You smirk, picking up the jug to rinse his hair, “women have their power between their legs. Men’s weakness is between their legs.” You say and Marcus snorts, closing his eyes as you slide your fingers through his hair.

“My father - he’s a good man. I- I want to thank you for sparing his life.” You murmur, admiring the general up close. He has lines on his face but he’s handsome. “Do you have a wife? Children? Back in Rome?”

“No.” Marcus’s brow pinches together for a moment. “My wife died in childbirth many years ago.” He hasn’t talked about Marcella in a long time, but he feels like he owes you a little bit of himself after all he’s taken from you.

Your stomach drops and you find yourself feeling sorry for him. “I’m sorry. No words can ever take away the pain I imagine you must feel.” You whisper, finding a vulnerable part of the war hardened General.

“They are running through the Elysian Fields, waiting for me.” He murmurs. “Or with the gods.” He sighs. “Or just gone. I don’t know. But it was a long time ago.”

“I am certain they are at peace, waiting for you. You shall die in bed knowing they are there waiting.” You say and he shakes his head, “I shall die on the battlefield. Killed by a man my junior. I have accepted my fate.” He murmurs and you sigh, “and I will not accept mine.” You withdraw your hands from his hair and grab the linens for him to dry off. “I am tired and hungry. I wish for your men to bring me a tray.”

He cracks an eye open and watches you. “I cannot have you telling Caracalla that you were starved on the journey to Rome.” He snorts before he grips the sides of the tub and heaves himself up with a groan. Water sluices down his body and he steps out of the tub onto the carpets lining the floor of his tent. Taking the linen with a nod of thanks, he quickly dries himself off and wraps the cloth around his waist to move to the tent flap and opens it. “Bring food and wine.” He orders one of the guards. “Enough for me and our guest.”

Your eyes follow his form, the muscles in his back moving in a way that has your throat dry. You need wine. That’s all. Yet why did you find yourself wanting to strip the linen from his waist and see more of him? “Thank you.” You murmur, certain that his men are whispering. “You will need to be careful. I’m sure you do not want your men spreading rumors that you are nude and in a tent with the future empress. The emperor will not take kindly to not having a pure bride.”

He lifts a brow, amused and confused by your worry of his own safety. “I thank you for your concern.” He nods as he moves over to the trunk you had pulled a tunic out of to get his own. “Although I doubt Caracalla will believe that I seduced you.”

You raise your eyebrows, “and why is that? You are too loyal to your emperor to imagine you committing such treason? Or am I not pretty enough for the revered General Marcus Acacius?” You scoff, wondering why he is so loyal to his Caesar when it’s clear he is weary.

He snorts and shakes his head. “You misunderstand.” He tells you. “I am old, scarred.” He gestures to his body. “Not young or handsome, rich or powerful.” He doesn’t bring up his rank, because you don’t seem like a woman who would care about a generator. “Caracalla would believe that I was too unappealing to seduce someone of your beauty.”

His answer makes your stomach lurch and you stand up, walking over to him. He puffs out his chest, prepared for your attack, but instead, you slide your hand down his covered chest. “You are not old. You are experienced. You have wisdom. And you are handsome. Weathered but I guarantee you any woman would eagerly slide into your bed. Do not discount yourself, general. You are appealing. You could seduce if you wanted to.” You pull your hand away, “Caracalla sounds like a fool if he believes otherwise.”

Marcus knows you are trying a new tactic and he frowns slightly. Your words make his body tighten in need but he doesn’t reach for you. “Perhaps I appeal to some.” He concedes, stepping away from you and reminding himself that you are trying to escape. “I am not worried about who would want me in their bed.”

You frown when he steps back. You may have been trying to form an escape plan but you genuinely mean your words. You sigh and make your way over to the chair just as his men bring in food and wine. You are starving and you should wait to see if Marcus eats first but you highly doubt he’d poison you when his job is to deliver you to the emperor.

He thanks his men and pours two large cups of wine before handing you one. “Drink.” He murmurs softly. “It has been a long day for you and you will make yourself sick if you do not drink and eat.” The sadness that had made your heart hurt has now been replaced with a fiery glow and he has to admire it, even if he needs to squash it. The men carry out the tub silently and he sits down on the bed since there is not another chair. He will have to have one brought, but for now, he will give it to you.

��​You know you can’t starve yourself in protest, you’ll need your strength if you want to attempt an escape again. You pick up the cup, taking a sip and you have to admit the Romans know their wine. You look at the meat and cheese on offer, taking some in your free hand and you chew on it, watching Marcus as he sits on the bed. “Will I have to share the tent with you?” You ask and he snorts, “I cannot have you running off again.” You nod, strangely feeling safer being in his tent. You know his men would likely take advantage of you on your own. Men at war are monsters, and you feel better knowing the General whose head depends on delivering you safe to his Emperor, is the one sharing your tent.

Marcus relaxes as you start to eat. His body is weary and he is tired, but he still watches you to make sure you don’t try to run. “Did you have a man you were to marry?” He asks. “In your land? Is that why you would not want to be empress?”

Your eyes flick up to meet his and you stare at him for a moment. You shake your head, “no. I did not. Many asked for my hand but I wanted to learn as much about my kingdom as possible from my father, to be the best Queen I could be for them. I was focused on training and politics. Not men.” You confess, “the only man I spent time with was my stallion.” You tease, placing a grape into your mouth.

“A wise choice.” He chuckles and takes a sip of his wine. “Horses are far better than people.” He sighs softly. “For what it's worth, I am sorry that your life has been disrupted and changed.” He murmurs.

It’s clear he genuinely feels that way and you nod, “thank you. I appreciate you being so honorable. A rare trait nowadays.” You sigh and he nods in agreement. You continue eating in silence until it’s time to sleep. “Will I be sleeping on the floor?” You ask, seeing one bed and nothing else for you to lay down on.

Marcus shakes his head. “You will sleep on the bed, with me.” You huff and he lifts a brow. “I will not touch you, except to make sure you do not try to escape.” He tells you. “Would you rather be tied to the bed so I can sleep?”

“I didn’t know you were that way inclined, General.” You tease, knowing that having an attitude won’t get you anywhere. You sigh and make your way over to the bed. “If we are to be sharing a bed for weeks, I pray you do not snore.” You slide under the sheets and turn on your side, not wanting to watch him as he settles in.

Marcus sets his cup down and kneels in front of a small altar he has set up for the gods. Lighting the incense to burn through the night for the souls that had been lost today in battle. He closes his eyes and murmurs a prayer. “Keep my men safe, allow them to return to their wives and mothers.” He says, like he does every night. “If my life must be the sacrifice for that, let it be done with honor.”

You listen to his prayer and you frown, maybe he isn’t a monster. He is praying for his men to return home safely even if it means his death. It takes you back and you turn to look at him as he stands up from his kneeling position. “You are different from most men, General.” You murmur.

“I will take comfort in your words when you are cursing me for completing my task.” He frowns slightly. “The gods have forced us together and I can only hope that there is a reason for it.” He sees you shiver and frowns, “do you need another fur?” He asks, thinking you might be cold since the temperature is dropping now the sun has gone down. He runs hot so he doesn’t sleep with many blankets no matter how cold it gets.

You nod, shivering under the sheets and he grabs another fur from the trunk, placing it over you, and you watch as he slides under the sheets beside you. “Goodnight, princesa.” He murmurs and turns his back to you after blowing out the candle next to the bed. You watch him as he relaxes and you close your eyes, sleep finally taking you after a traumatic day.

Marcus stays awake for a long time, listening as your breathing evens out and he sighs. “Damn you, Caracalla.” He curses softly, knowing that he would have never fought your people if he had known you were never in agreement to marry the emperor. Guilt swirls in his stomach and he wonders what the other man will do with you once he has his prize.

You awake with a start, confused by your location until you realize where you are and what happened. You blink and your lower lip trembles but you refuse to cry. You wake up a little more and realize you have shifted in your sleep and you are curled into the chest of the General, his arm under your head, and you gasp at the way you somehow curled around each other during your slumber.

Marcus is awake, he has been for hours but he refused to move when you were nestled up against him and sleeping peacefully. “Sleep deep, princesa?” He asks, his voice rough with disuse.

You immediately shift away from him, sitting up, and you’re flustered. You had liked how it felt in his arms and that scares you. “I- I’m sorry.” You choke out, shifting away from him.

“Do not apologize.” He murmurs, missing the feel of your body against his. “It is natural to seek out comfort when you are vulnerable.” He sighs. “Even if you would not when you are awake.” He groans as he shifts to sit up. “Come, I will have water brought for you to clean up and give you a moment of privacy for you to use the pot.” He motions over to a screen that he had ordered set up for your comfort when nature calls.

He’s considerate and that takes you back. “Thank you.” You murmur and he nods, shifting to stand up with a groan. You watch him leave the tent after putting on his sandals to get his men to bring water and you use the pot during his absence. His men bring water and you clean off behind the screen and Marcus returns with food and drink. It takes a while for his men to pack up camp but Marcus looks at you when you stand by his stallion. “I’d offer you a hand up but I know you are more than capable.” He says and you chuckle, reaching for the saddle to swing yourself up onto his stallion, wearing a new tunic from his trunk.

Marcus tries not to stare at your legs, his tunics much shorter than the dresses you have undoubtedly packed away in your things. Instead of saying something, he takes his cloak off and drapes it over your legs for warmth and privacy. “My men are not used to seeing such a beautiful woman.” He explains so you do not take offense before he pulls himself up behind you and takes the reins.

You scoff, “no need for flattery, General, I am willingly on your horse. I am not running away.” You lean back against him a little as he flicks the reins to move the stallion forward.

“No flattery, but the truth.” He hums in your ear. “The whore’s fuck them. But you are beautiful, untouched. Legs on display, you will have my men fighting to touch you and then I will have to kill them.”

“To preserve my innocence for the emperor.” You murmur, turning your head and your face is so close to his. Your eyes focused on him as he blindly controls the horse. “Yes.” He rasps and you hum, “you serve your emperor well, General. Many never see loyalty as strong as that in their lifetime. I wonder what would cause you to break that loyalty, make you throw your morality to the wind.”

He doesn’t answer, knowing that you don’t expect a reply. The army moves slowly and there are times that Marcus stops with you to let you attend to your needs before catching back up with the other officers. Many horses come up to him while you ride, asking questions or informing him of different things, but Marcus handles all of them with ease and grace, aware that the road is weary for everyone.

The sun beating down on you has you weary and you find yourself leaning back against the general, closing your eyes, and his arm wraps around you to keep you in place when you fall asleep. He’s spoken to you about Rome, answered your questions, and you have told him about your people, your lands, in between riders offering him questions or information.

Marcus looks down at you and sighs. He should slow the travel down. You are exhausted and he knows Caracalla will be less than pleased if you arrive worn out. He motions for his men to approach and speaks quietly. “We will make camp early every night.” He decides. “It will take longer to get home but the men will be better rested.” He isn’t doing it for the men, but for you. Perhaps by that time, you will have accepted your fate as empress. “Have the scouts find a place to rest for the night.”

Marcus shakes you awake gently when the horse has stopped moving. You gasp, reality hitting you once again, and you fluster, realizing that you fell asleep on him yet again. “I seem to be creating a habit. I’m sorry. You are welcome to wake me any time.” You say and he tuts, “you need your rest, princesa.” You don’t argue and you see the men starting to prepare camp. “I wish to have another bath.” You say and Marcus nods, swinging his leg over the horse and he holds his arms out for you to help you down. This time you allow it, his large hands gripping your waist as you are helped down from the horse and your chest is pressed against his, your head slightly tilted towards his face. “Thank you, General.” You murmur, patting his chest plate and stepping back, hating how your heart pounds at his proximity.

His dark eyes watch you. “You are welcome.” He nods and hands the reins of his horse off to one of the men. “Would you like for one of your trunks to be brought to my tent, or would you like to keep wearing my clothes?” He smirks slightly as he asks, secretly enjoying the way you look in his tunics.

You smirk, “I suppose I should wear my own clothes so you can have your cloak back during the rides.” You tap his chest plate, “I also would like to wear something that reminds me of home.” You murmur and he nods, calling over one of his men to retrieve your trunks. It doesn’t take long for the men to step up camp and you enter Marcus’s tent, grateful to be out of the sun, and you walk over to your trunk to open it, gathering the oils you wish to use for bathing.

The tub is brought into the tent by three men and set in the middle of the space. “We will bring hot water as quickly as it boils.” A young boy of fifteen informs you with a small blush. “The general ordered the water to be hotter than it was yesterday.”

“Thank you.” You tell the boy, knowing his mother must be worried sick about him wherever she is. You know Marcus is speaking to his men and won’t return until you are done with your bath. Two men return with pails full of steaming hot water and you thank them, watching them leave after they fill the tub. You’re just about to remove your tunic when the tent flap opens and one of the men return. “Did you forget something?” You ask and he chuckles darkly, “I wanted to see what the fuss is all about. Why did we lose men to retrieve you as our future empress? You must have a cunt made of gold.” He says and you try to open your mouth but he covers it with his palm, his other hand grabbing your waist to drag you against him. Your training kicks in and you bite down on his hand while elbowing him in the side, making him choke, and you rush out the tent, screaming for Marcus.

Marcus is talking with his men when he hears a scream of his name and instantly knows it’s you. His eyes dart towards the tent even as he draws his sword, lurching forward to race towards you as he sees your figure darting from between the tent and the men, looking behind you with an expression of pure terror. He sees one of his men chasing after you and he would have believed that you were trying to escape again if it weren’t for that scream and that you are racing towards him. When he reaches you, he throws his arm around your waist and drags you behind him roaring the name of the soldier as he plants his feet as a barrier between you and the other man. “What the fuck is going on?”

You cling to him, feeling safe with him in front of you. “He - he grabbed me in the tent. Came back alone and I tried to scream but he covered my mouth. He was - he said he wanted to know why I was chosen as empress. Said he wanted to know if I had a cunt made of gold.” The soldier scoffs, “she’s lying. She tried to escape. Bit my hand when I tried to stop her and she’s a lying cunt.”

“If she was trying to escape, she would not have screamed my name or run towards me.” Marcus growls, furious that one of his men would try to harm you. He points his sword at the man. “Tell the truth now or your death will be slow and painful.” He warns.

The soldier scoffs and rocks on his feet, his eyes narrowed towards you. “As if any man here would deny wanting to feel a virgin cunt around their cock? And the future empress? Fuck the Emperor and his ridiculous wars. We lost men retrieving this bitch. I wanted to see if she was worth the sacrifice.” He confesses, looking around to see if any of the others would back him up.

Marcus waits, giving the men time to speak up and voice their opinions but everyone is quiet. Feet shuffle and leathers creak as they stand and wait for their general’s wrath. He rocks his jaw. “I have lost men for a cause I would never have agreed with.” He admits. “But that is not her fault. And I have never condoned rape.”

The soldier scoffs, “men have taken what isn’t theirs throughout history. We need to remember that. Perhaps the General wants to save her for himself? That’s why he is kept in his tent.” The soldier digs a deeper hole and you step around Marcus. “I never asked to be taken from my home, from my people. I am sorry you lost men, so did I. I never asked for this and I certainly never asked to be taken against my will.” You stand tall, not letting the men see you are afraid.

Marcus lets you speak, knowing that it is your right. “You dared to try to defile the future empress of Rome.” He reminds the man. “Dishonoring your house, your name.” He reaches out and pulls you behind him again and steps forward. “The gods will judge you.” He declares, his sword coming up with a quick swing of his arms and he beheads your attacker without any hesitation. The headless body stands for a moment before collapsing onto the ground as his head rolls away. “Any man who seeks to take what is not his will be given the same.” His voice lifts and his words are stern. He looks back at the body and spits on it before dropping his sword.

You don’t flinch at the sight of the beheaded man. You’ve witnessed worse as the Princess of your kingdom. You never shied away from the horrors of war, knowing that you needed to experience it to lead your men. Marcus grabs your arm but you’re not scared of him as he escorts you to his tent. He releases your arm as soon as the flap to the tent closes and you turn to face him. “I’m sorry.” You spit out, worried that he’s angry with you.

“Did you try to seduce him?” Marcus demands and you hiss in anger. “No! I did not try to seduce him!” You look angry, but he can tell you are being truthful. “Then you have no reason to be sorry, princesa.” He responds quietly. “He made his decision to act like he did and it cost him his life. You did not cause it.”

You nod, knowing he's being reasonable, and you sigh, glancing at the bath. "I would like to bathe now." You say and Marcus has the man's blood splattered on his face. "You need to as well." You observe and he nods, "I will leave you." He says and you reach for his hand, "no. Can you - can you stay? I don't want to be alone." You plead softly and he nods, looking down at your hand. He turns his back to give you your privacy and you undress, sinking into the water.

Rage arms in his veins and he doesn’t dare to look into the mirror right now. Afraid of his own reaction. He hasn’t killed the man because he had attacked the future empress, he had killed him because he had dared to touch you. The possessiveness that is silent in his system is not good and he clenches his fists as he takes several deep breaths to calm himself down.

You slide your oils along your skin and it hits you. A sob escapes your lips as the reality of the past few days hits hard. You have been taken from your home, nearly watched your father be killed, nearly assaulted, and you are to marry a man you've never met. Your emotions run high and you sob, tears dropping into the water.

Marcus hears your muffled sobs and they rip at his heart. “You’re safe, princesa.” He says roughly, thinking you are overwhelmed from your attack. “No one will harm you while I live.”

His words wrap around you and you feel safe with the man tasked to take you. You are conflicted and your sobs calm, inhaling deeply as you wash your face, "thank you, Marcus." You murmur, watching his back as he stands guard.

“And I am sorry.” He confesses softly, feeling more like himself now. He doesn’t turn around and watches the tent flap for any movement outside. His back is tense as he stays turned away from you and you wash quickly, standing up, and you wrap the linen around your form. “You can look now.” You say, certain that he wants to wash off the blood of the dead soldier. “I have oils you can use.”

“Thank you.” He nods his head and starts to strip, not realizing his body is still hard. His cock jutting up in frustration and arousal. He knows you are not looking, so he doesn’t bother to turn away as he strips down.

You turn towards the tub at the same time he’s stripped and stepping in. His cock hard and your eyes widen. You have never seen a man naked like that before and it has your face heating up. “I have - the oils.” You choke, holding them out to him as he sinks into the water.

He sees how wide your eyes are and looks down. “Forgive me, princesa.” He murmurs, reaching out slowly to take the oils. “It sometimes happens on its own.” He confesses. “You don’t need to worry that I will act like the man I just killed.”

You shake your head, “no. No. I know. I just - I’ve never seen - you are beautiful.” You murmur, knowing he wouldn’t hurt you. Whether that’s for the emperor’s sake or yours, you don’t know, but you know he hasn’t harmed you.

His eyes watch you, surprised that you are saying such things to him. At least you don’t fear him. “I am just a man.” He tells you. “Thank you.”

You shake your head, “you’re a good man. You could’ve treated me badly, let your men touch him, maybe even taken me for yourself, but you didn’t. You’re a good man, Marcus.” You murmur, shifting to kneel by the tub.

He shakes his head. “Don’t praise me too quickly, princesa.” He growls softly. “You don’t know what I have thought, imagined.” His fingers curl around the edge of the tub and he looks back at you after looking away.

You frown, tilting your head in curiosity, “tell me what you’ve thought, imagined. Perhaps it will tarnish my opinion of you but I need to know.” You say, knowing you cannot hide from the truth. It’s better to face reality when you are on a journey to marry a man you do not know.

“Touching you.” Marcus confesses. “Taking you, for my own, seizing your innocence and showing you what it is like to have a man between your thighs.” He swallows harshly. “Not to have you as a prize but to experience your fiery passions and see what you could be.”

His words immediately make your stomach twist, your cunt clenching around nothing in a feeling not entirely foreign to you. You shuffle closer, placing your hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. “I had a dream earlier. When I was riding on your horse. The rhythm of the horse and you pressed against me…I imagined you inside me, taking me without anyone knowing.” You confess and slide your hand lower, your eyes watching him for any protest as your hand trails until you are wrapping your fingers around his cock. He chokes, “you don’t-” You shush him, “let me touch you, General. Show me what to do.”

He should push your hand away, refuse you, but he feels frozen in place. His cock twitches in your hand, making the water ripple slightly and you gasp while tightening your grip on him. His hand slowly uncurls from the edge of tub and he covers your hand with his much larger one and he groans softly when he starts to slowly guide you in how to stroke him.

You are fascinated by the look on his face. He looks wrecked already and you love that you are making him feel this way. You squeeze him when his hand tightens around yours, setting the pace he wants.

“You don’t-“ Marcus closes his eyes and pants slightly. “It’s- just like that.” He tells you, knowing that you will do what you like and he’s too worked up to deny you.

You don’t listen to his protest because you want to do this. “You should know by now that I never do anything I don’t want to do, General.” You smirk and continue pumping his cock.

He knows that, he knows it very well. He lets go of your hand and lets you control his pleasure as you stroke. “Admire that.” He grunts.

You feel empowered by the way he groans, withering under your touch. This powerful general is moaning your name and you control his pleasure. It’s intoxicating and makes you wet as you control this part of your destiny. “I know. You are unlike any man I’ve ever known. So strong. So powerful. Yet you don’t abuse your position. I admire that.”

He groans softly. “Real power doesn’t require abuse.” He had  learned that from Marcus Aurelias and Maximus when he was younger and he had never forgotten it.

You continue pumping him, moving your hand a little faster and his hand falls away to grip the side of the tub, his neck elongated when he throws his head back. You can’t help but lean in to kiss the skin there.

The groan he gives you is almost pained, pleasurable in the most gut wrenching way. He says your name again, trying not to rock his hips up as you touch him. “That’s it, princesa.” He praises.

You kiss his neck, loving how you can feel his pulse beneath your lips while you squeeze his cock, instinctively twisting your wrist as you pump his cock. You want him to fall apart for you.

Marcus gasps out your name softly and he feels his body tense. Knowing that he is about to cum, he locks eyes with you.

You look at him, loving the way his lip curls slightly and you pump his cock. feeling it pulse in your grip and finally, he lets out a low groan of your name. Spurts of cum hit the back of your hand and his stomach and you watch him in fascination and arousal.

He rides out his orgasm with a groan and reaches down and stops your hand. “Princesa- you have to stop.” He tells you, wondering what you thought of the first time you touched a man.

His plea makes you chuckle and you loosen your grip on his cock, letting it soften against his belly, and you reach for the cloth to wash his skin. “You look so beautiful when you fall apart.” You murmur, caressing his cheek with your other hand.

“I should not have let you touch me.” He murmurs softly. “But there is something about you that makes me reckless.”The emperor would have him killed if he ever found out, but Marcus can’t find it in himself to care right now. “Did you enjoy making me weak?”

You lower your hand and dry your other hand off on the linen, still kneeling by the tub. “I did.” You smirk at the relaxed look on his face, “here are the oils.” You hand him one, “I’m sure you want to clean up after an arduous day.” You say and you offer him a shy smile now that the lust has passed from his eyes.

Marcus frowns for a moment before he takes the oils from your hand. “Thank you.” He should touch you, to give you the same pleasure, but you don’t seem to be wanting it. “I try to be clean when I sleep.” He tells you. “I rest better.”

You nod, shifting to stand up and you grab a tunic from his trunk, letting the linen drop from your body to pull his tunic over your head, letting him see your bare back and ass. You feel his eyes on you and that makes you smirk as you turn to face him while he washes off with the oils you gave him.

He feels like it’s deliberate, you wearing his tunic again. “You like my clothes.” He notices how you show off slightly, twisting as flaunting the shorter hem with a smirk on your face. “And you wonder why I view you as mine.” He snorts.

“They are more comfortable than my clothes.” You confess, brushing down the hem, “and I like that they are yours.” You add, making your way over to his bed to sit down, watching him rinse off and he shifts to stand up, water dripping from his form and you unashamedly drag your eyes down his body. “It makes me think that I’m yours.”

He stares at you for a moment. “I could give you pleasure.” He offers, wanting to touch you. “You would stay pure and still know what it’s like to have a man touch you.” It’s a risky offer, but he wants to have some claim over you right now.

His offer makes your body warm and you arch as he reaches for linen to dry himself off after he steps out the tub. He steps towards you once the linen is wrapped around his waist and you shift to kneel on the bed, reaching for the hem of his tunic to remove it. You pull it over your head and toss it to the floor, “touch me, Marcus. I want to know what it’s like.” You order, knowing you should hate the man who kidnapped you from your home but you want him, he’s unlike anyone you’ve ever met.

His gaze is focused, intense as he admires your body. “You are beautiful.” He growls, eyes roaming from your tits to your thighs, drinking in the sight of the curls that cover your cunt. “Lay back and spread your legs.” He orders. “Close your eyes to start.”

You follow his order, laying down on the pillows of his bed. Your heart is pounding and your stomach twists with anticipation when you spread your legs, allowing him to see your wet folds. “Close your eyes.” He reminds you and you close them, shivering in anticipation.

Marcus comes over to the bed and slides his hand up your thigh and holds your waist while he leans in and presses his lips to yours gently. Kissing you softly for your first kiss and capturing your gasp and sliding his tongue into your mouth when you open up slightly.

You reach up to cup his cheek, unsure of what to do. You’ve never kissed anyone before and you find yourself too eager, knocking your nose against his. He chuckles against your lips and tilts his head, sliding his tongue back into your mouth and you moan, keeping your eyes closed.

You yield to him, giving him a sense of conquest because he knows you would not just give in to anyone. His hand slides up and cups your breast as he breaks off the kiss to move his lips down your body. “Princesa, I will make you moan in pleasure and shake apart on this bed.” He promises right before he wraps his lips around your other nipple as he squeezes your tit in his hand.

You gasp, tangling your fingers in his damp hair while he bites and sucks on your nipple. “Oh gods.” You moan, your cunt clenching around nothing and you love these sensations. It’s more than you’ve ever felt. He releases your nipple with a pop and switches to the other one, making you whimper, your legs spreading wider to accommodate him between your thighs.

Marcus kneels between your spread thighs. Kissing and flicking his tongue against your sensitive nipples and switching back and forth between them. Until your legs are pressing against his hips and your whimpers have become loud. He can smell the arousal from how wet you are becoming and he bites down on your hard nipple before pulling off of it and kissing down your stomach. “Your cunt aches, doesn’t it?” He asks, wedging his shoulders between your thighs and hooking your legs over them. “Throbs?”

You nod, lost in the haze of the pleasure he’s already given you. You open your eyes to look down at him, his dark eyes fixed on your cunt and you whimper again. “It does. I- I need - I don’t know. Your fingers. Anything.” You beg a little, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

“Nothing but my tongue inside you.” He promises, knowing he can’t risk your innocence that way. He knows he can make you cum on his tongue. “Now you can watch.” He smirks. “Watch as I service you, show you what it feels like to have your cunt eaten.”

You watch him kiss your thigh, his breath washing hot over your cunt and you can’t stop the whine that escapes your lips. “Please, Marcus.” He chuckles and grips your thigh, keeping you spread open as he leans in to slide his tongue through your folds. The sound that escapes you is almost inhuman. You’ve never felt the wet, hot glide of a tongue there and it makes you cry out.

Your scent is almost as intoxicating as your taste. Marcus groans heavily as he takes another taste with a swipe of his tongue. Settling in to bury his face in your cunt and devour you completely. It has been a long time since he has tasted a woman and you make him ravenous.

His tongue carves a path no one else has taken and your back arches as the pleasure clouds your mind. You love it. You moan his name and tangle your fingers in his hair, letting him decide how he’s going to ruin you with his tongue.

Marcus focuses on your sounds. Sliding his tongue and flicking it to pull the prettiest sounds from you and repeating the actions when you obviously enjoy it. He loves how you are giving yourself into his care and letting him show you these pleasures. Claiming a piece of you that you could never give someone else because it is his.

Your hips rock up unconsciously trying to chase his tongue but he throws his arm over your waist, keeping you still so he can push his tongue into your dripping cunt. “Oh fuck.” You curse, “Marcus. That - it feels so good.” You almost choke on your words, overwhelmed by the feelings.

He hums against your folds, his nose pressed against your clit as he works his tongue deeper inside you. Feeling the way your walls try to clench down around him and he knows you would feel exquisite around his cock, but he can’t take your innocence.

He works you higher and higher with each swipe of his tongue. His broad shoulders stretch you wide for him to have access to all of you and he sucks on your clit, making you cry out loud enough that you’re certain his men hear you.

Marcus pulls his head away and smirks at you. “Not so loud, princesa.” He coos teasingly. “The men already think I am keeping you for myself.” He dives back into your folds after you slap your hand over your mouth to muffle your sounds.

You love how he’s claiming you like this. You want the men to know you are being kept by him but you understand how that’s dangerous for you both. You feel your stomach twist with a foreign feeling, clenching and your thighs tighten as the feeling spreads until you are moaning into your hand as you fall apart for him.

Marcus continues to suck on your clit, watching you with a possessive gaze and feeling his cock harden again. He can’t take you, but he wants you to enjoy every second of pleasure that courses through your veins. Pulling away when you are whimpering, before it turns to pain, he kisses your clit once more. His mouth is soaked with your juices and he licks his lips. “Beautiful, princesa.”

You whimper, overly sensitive to his touch and you run your fingers through his hair, loving how he looks ravenous still. “I wish you could fully claim me.” You confess breathlessly, “fill me up.”

“I cannot.” He comes up and presses his lips to your softly. “Not because I do not want to.” He promises. “I would not put you in that kind of danger.”

You sigh, nodding in understanding that the emperor would want a pure woman for empress otherwise you’ll likely be killed. You caress his cheek and swing your leg over his, feeling his hardening cock against your thigh. “Do you want me to-?” You ask but he shakes his head, reaching for your wandering hand to bring it to his chest. “No. Let’s rest. We have a long journey ahead of us.” He murmurs and kisses your forehead when you curl into his chest. “Goodnight Marcus.” You whisper and he hums, “goodnight, princesa.”

**** 

Everyday, he pleasures you with his mouth, spending more and more time with you wrapped around him as you muffle your cries. Sometimes even risking touching your clit while you are riding to the next encampment. He talks with you outside the bed, having thoughtful conversations and learning about you. Falling for you. You are sexy and intelligent, far too good for the spoiled emperor, but it is not his decision to make.

You blink as you awaken before Marcus. A rare opportunity. You look at him as he sleeps, the sheets and furs at his waist and his arm is under you, making your heart flutter. You’ve fallen for the man tasked with bringing you to the emperor. He’s strong, brave, smart, and not to blame for your kidnapping. He’s loyal and follows orders but he’s been in your bed, pleasuring you. You see his hard cock, tenting the sheets and you whimper, still wet from your nightly routine of him eating your cunt. You move slowly, not wanting to startle him, and you shift to straddle him. He doesn’t awaken and you smirk, deciding to take action when he won’t. He clearly wants you and he’s too rigid to take what is already his. You shift the sheets down and grip his cock, hovering naked over him, you decide to take your fate into your own hands and position him at your entrance. You sink down, watching his brow furrow as he stretches you out with his cock.

Marcus groans at the pleasure of his dreams, although night spent dreaming of being buried in your cunt. Of filling you until you are round with his child and keeping you. Your weight shifts and you hiss slightly, breaking through his sleep until his eyes open. Marcus grabs your hips, gasping your name as he tries to lift you off his cock before the damage can be done but all he manages is to bury himself deeper as he lurches up. “What have you done? Princesa-“ he chokes out, unable to say anything else as the weight of your actions washes over him. You are no longer pure.

You giggle, bending over to kiss him softly, “I don’t care. I want you. I don’t give a shit if the emperor knows I’m pure or sullied. I will claim I had lovers in my kingdom. He sent you so far away to claim me with no knowledge of my purity. I want you, Marcus. I’m yours. All of me.” You promise, kissing his chin as you adjust to his cock inside of you.

He closes his eyes and sighs softly, hands sliding up your back gently, caressing your spine. “He doesn’t deserve you.” He murmurs quietly. He loves you, he has completely been ensnared by your grace and beauty, your brilliance and your strength. “I am yours, princesa. Completely.”

You grin, pecking his lips, “I love you, General.” You promise and start to move on top of him. “Show me. I don’t - this is all new to me.” You murmur, reaching for his hands to bring them to your hips, wanting him to guide you.

“Does it hurt?” He frowns slightly and you roll your eyes and clench down around him. “No, it feels incredible.” You promise breathlessly. “Good.” Marcus hums. “Riding a man is similar to riding a horse.” He flashes you a grin. “Roll your hips and keep your seat.”

You furrow your brow in concentration and work on rocking your hips like you’re riding a horse. You tense your thighs and moan when the sensation makes your spine tingle. “Oh gods.” You choke, “you feel so big inside me.” You grab his hand to place it on your belly so he can feel himself pressing against your womb.

Marcus growls in pleasure, watching you with dark eyes and tensing underneath you. “You feel perfect around my cock, princesa. So tight.” He rocks his hips up slightly and makes your tits bounce.

You moan when he rocks his hips up and you fall forward onto his chest, your hands pressed against his pecs and you rock back onto his cock. He feels incredible inside you and you love it. He feels like everything you’ve imagined since you started an intimate relationship with him. “Fuck.” You curse, feeling him twitch inside you and he grabs your hips, keeping you still so he can thrust up into you. “Ohhhh.” Your moan is garbled as you let him fuck you and it has your body tensing. You clamp down on his cock, eyes squeezed shut at how good it feels.

He can’t spill inside you. He can’t risk planting his seed in your womb. He plants his feet on the bed and holds you tight. “Cum for me.” He growls. “Cum, princesa.”

His words tip you over the edge, crying out as you collapse against his chest. Cunt spasming around his cock as you soak him. 

Marcus flips you over, needing to be in control so that he can pull out of you when he’s about to cum. Now that you have seen the stars, he starts to hammer into you ruthlessly. Groaning your name as he fucks you.

You watch him, jaw clenched as he fucks into you hard and fast. You are pushed up the bed and the sheets shoved to the floor as he fucks you. You cling to him, scratching down his back as he prolongs your orgasm and you want him to cum for you. “Shit, I need - want to see you cum.”

“Have to- have to pull out.” He pants, neck straining and he grits his teeth. “Fuck.” He hisses, loving how wet and tight you are. How you fit around him like armor. He rocks his hips another half dozen times and when you nip his jaw with your teeth, he’s pulling back. Quickly pulling out of your cunt and throbbing against your belly as he paints your skin with his seed. “Fuuuuuuuck.”

You can’t deny you’re disappointed he didn’t fill you up but you know it’s too risky. Arriving in Rome full of his baby would be a death sentence and you reach between you, pumping his cock to wring him dry with a moan of his name in the aftermath of your pleasure.

Marcus rocks his hips into your grip until every drop of his cum is painting your skin. “I love you, princesa.” He murmurs softly, leaning in and kissing your lips before he shifts off of you to collect a linen to clean you up.

“I love you too, my General.” You murmur, watching him as he carefully cleans your skin. You love him. That much is clear and you don’t know what the days ahead hold for you but you know you must let him go when the time comes. For both your sakes. For now, you’ll enjoy the journey to Rome.

**** 

“Princesa-“ Marcus wakes with a groan as you slip into his bedchambers he has been graciously given until the wedding between you and Caracalla. The emperor had been very pleased with your arrival and had arranged feasts and games in honor of the upcoming nuptials. All arranged to best his brother and to show off the extravagance of Rome. Tonight, Marcus had drank too much heavy wine during the feast, trying to drink his sorrows away since you will be marrying the emperor in two days time. “You should not  be here.” Every night since arriving, you have snuck into his bed and every night he reminds you that this is risky. Even as he is pulling you towards him, he knows he should push you away. You are already naked, having stripped before slipping into his bed.

“I know but I need you, Marcus. We don’t have a lot of time left before I am in Caracalla’s bed. You are dreading marrying the emperor. He’s childish, selfish, and clearly deranged. You do not want to marry him but you have no choice. He’s already threatened you when you pushed back on the wedding being so soon. You straddle him, leaning down to kiss his lips, “take me, Marcus. I want you to claim me. Show me that I belong to you.”

He cannot deny you, not when his own heart aches so fiercely because of your fates. “I love you.” He promises, reaching up and cupping your cheek as he wraps his other arm around you to roll you into your back. “You are mine. I have touched you in ways no other man ever has.”

You look up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, and you ache for him. You want to be in his bed every night. You want to be his. You don’t give a damn about being empress, you want to be his wife. Even without a title. You’re wet for him already, having thought about him all day, and he groans when he slides the head of his cock through your folds.

“Mine, princesa.” Marcus promises with a groan as he starts to push into you slowly. Rolling his hips as he savors the feel of breaking you open again. No matter how often you have had sex, he is obsessed with the way your body gives under the pressure of his cock against your walls.

You take him like you’re made for him and you think you are. You are destined for each other but unable to be together. Star crossed lovers. You throw your head back as he rocks into you, his lips finding your neck and you grip his shoulders, “I love you.” You gasp, wrapping your legs around him.

“Isn’t this sweet?” Dread races down Marcus’s spine as he hears a voice that makes him freeze above you. The voice of his emperor. Twisting his head, he finds Geta smirking as he strolls into the light from a corner of the room. “You love each other.” He hums mockingly, eyes alight with manic glee. “I told my brother that there was something between you, but he didn’t believe me.” Anger flashes across the man’s face before it’s replaced with nonchalance. “Now he will.” He declares before he raises his voice. “Guards!”

You cry out as Marcus pulls out of you and is immediately ripped off of you, guards grabbing him and you try to scramble from the bed but the guards grab your legs, pulling you back and you scream as you are held naked in front of Geta who walks over to you and grips your chin. Your lip curls in disgust and he chuckles, “my brother thought he was so clever, bringing a foreign princess to marry. He hoped you’d be pliable, dutiful, obedient. You wouldn’t be corrupted by the pleasures of Rome but it appears our great General has shown them to you. Taken you as his own despite his emperor’s orders. You’re nothing but a foreign whore.” Geta scoffs and you can’t help it. You spit at him and he hisses, his hand coming up to slap your cheek.

“Don’t touch her!” Marcus barks, but the men who are holding him are not his own soldiers, loyal to him. They are loyal to Geta, to Caracalla. The emperor turns towards Marcus with a raised brow and a smirk on his face. “I believe those were your orders, General.” He snorts. “You disobeyed.”

Your cheek stings but you don't let Geta see you cry, knowing this means your death. You doubt the Emperors will allow this to pass without punishment but you will not be a withering flower. You'll stand strong until the last moment.

“I seduced her.” Marcus confesses, hoping that you might be spared from execution. “Take my life and spare her.”

"No!" You cry and try to move but the guards keep you against them. "No. I - I let him seduce me. I should've kept my legs shut. He's a man. He took what was offered. Take me. Not him." You plead, knowing Rome needs him. They never needed you. Marcus shakes his head and Geta chuckles, his lips pouting, "awwww the lovers want to die for each other. No need. You'll die together. In front of Rome." He promises and looks to the guards, "take them to the cells."

Marcus starts to struggle, shouting at Geta and the men until he is hit over the head with a sword and crumples to the ground unconscious. Dragged away without any consideration as you are pulled out of the room, still naked, to be taken to the cells beneath the palace.

You are dragged down to the cells and you are pushed into one, thrown on the floor without any clothes given to you. You hear the door to the cell next to you open and your eyes widen, knowing Marcus will be there. You wait until the footsteps of the guard fade and you rush up to the door, gripping the bars. "Marcus." You call, hoping he is awake and can hear you, "Marcus."

Marcus groans, head pounding but he hears you call his name again. “Princesa.” He chokes out, stumbling to his feet and managing to make it to the door. His head is bleeding and his eyes can’t focus, but he doesn’t care about that. “Are you hurt?” He demands.

"No. No. Are you okay?" You ask, wanting to hear that he's not in pain. "I'm fine. Nothing I can't handle." He says and you rest your forehead against the bars, "how do we escape?" You ask, hoping he has a plan.

Marcus closes his eyes. “We don’t.” He admits quietly. “My men have been sent home, everyone here is loyal to the emperors.” He sighs. “I failed you, Princesa.”

You choke on a sob, the reality of your fate hitting you and you sink down against the door, resting your back against it. "I wish things were different. We never should have come to Rome. We could've gone back to my lands. You could've been my prince and we - we would get married, have children. We could've - we could've died in old age, in peace."

“Not in this life, my love.” Marcus knows that he must face death with strength, but tears slip down his cheeks for you. “In another life, perhaps.” He closes his eyes. “I will search for you.”

You nod even though he can't see you, "in another life. I'll love you even in death, my General. I'll find you in the next life." You promise, "I'll never stop searching." You sob and before you know it, you hear footsteps from the hall and your heart pounds. "Marcus!" You cry and you back up when the door is pushed open. "It's okay. What are you doing?" He growls when he's pushed back into the cell. "You will bathe and dress. You'll be brought in front of the emperors." The guards order and a tub is brought in, a handmaid bringing your clothes to dress you and do your hair.

Marcus prays that Caracalla has overruled Geta. That he will spare your life. “Do what they say.” He orders you softly. “Do what you must to survive.” He knows his own life is forfeit but if you live, he will die at peace.

You are silent as you dress, preparing to stand before the emperors, and the guards soon arrive to take you away. The door is opened, your hand maid crying which makes your stomach twist, but you keep your head high. You want to speak to Marcus before you’re dragged off so you step towards his door. He’s standing then and you reach between the bars to touch him. “I love you. I don’t regret a thing.” You promise, “I love you, Marcus.” You promise and the guards drag you away, making you cry out as Marcus says “I love you too. Always.” You keep your head high as you’re escorted through the halls until you are taken outside. You frown and that frown turns into panic when you approach a large platform. People gathered in the piazza with the emperors sat down in their thrones. “Ah, welcome.” Geta says your name as you are shoved onto the platform and your hands shake but you grab your robes. Caracalla walks over to you, gripping your chin, “you betrayed me. You let him touch you. I cannot have a whore for empress. I could never confirm my heir is mine. You’ll suffer for your affair. I must show Rome that we do not allow such insolence.” Caracalla hisses and you know that this is the moment you die. You refuse to let them see that you’re terrified and you are pushed to kneel after your hands are tied behind your back. You keep your shoulders back as the soldier pulls his sword from his side and you hear a cry. Turning your head, you see Marcus being dragged to the side of the platform and your strength dissolves. He is to be killed as well. “Ah, General. Please watch. You’ll see what we do to traitors to the empire. Stand there and watch her die. You’ll soon be joining her.” The emperors laugh and you have tears running down your cheeks as Marcus tries to get out of the grip of the five men holding him. “I love you.” You mouth just as the sword is brought down and it all goes black.

“Nooooooo!” Marcus howls in rage as your head is separated from your body and he struggles against the men, breaking free with one hand and grabbing for the swords they carry. Tears sting his eyes and all he can think about is avenging you. Killing the emperors that have ordered your death. “Bastard!” He shouts out, the people silent as they watch the commotion. “She was never yours! She never agreed to marry you! You kidnapped her from her home!” He shouts, wanting the people to know exactly why you had died. How you had been brought to Rome. The soldiers holding him had fallen back after he had grabbed the sword. “She was not yours to claim! She was mine!”

Caracalla raises his hand, telling the soldiers to come forward to surround Marcus as he swings the sword. "I sent for her. She was mine from the moment my soldiers left Rome to find her. She was my key to securing her lands. You had orders and you failed. You fucked her, claimed her as yours, without permission and the gods will punish you. Who wants their emperor to be justified?" Caracalla asks the crowd who cheers, "the people want their emperor to be happy. And you know what would make me happy? Seeing you dead beside her. Traitors in life and in death." He claps his hands and the soldiers move closer to Marcus.

Marcus knows he will die, that is his fate, especially now that you are already walking through the Elysian Fields. Instead of battling the men who have been ordered to kill him, he drops his sword. “Rome will consume you.” He predicts. “She will rise against you and you will fall.”

Caracalla scoffs and Geta rolls his eyes while the soldiers grab Marcus and drag him to the stage. He kneels down, jaw clenched in defiance, and he growls, "fuck the emperors." His last words before the sword comes down and his head rolls on the floor moments later. The emperor grins, reaching down to grab his head, blood dripping onto the floor. "May everyone know that this is what Rome does to traitors. Even a General and a Princess are not exempt from the hand of the law." Caracalla declares and the crowd is silent. General Marcus Acacius is dead. The Roman Empire is crumbling.

**** 

All his life, Marcus has awoken with the knowledge that he has walked these roads before. It had been present every day, even if he could not articulate it. The sense that he had smelled that scent before, or tasted that fruit is always hanging on the edge of his consciousness. The nagging sense of déjà vu that had plagued him. His grandmother had called him an old soul, one who had lived lives before and it makes sense, considering he was named after a Roman general who had betrayed his emperors for love.

You huff as you drag your suitcase up the steps to the hotel your best friend had booked for her wedding. Of course she had to get married in Rome. Her husband-to-be is from the city. She had met him during her semester abroad and now years later they are getting married. You had flown over to Italy to be her maid of honor. You take a break and wipe your brow, your dress taking up a lot of space in your case, and you inhale deeply as you drag your case up the stairs to the entrance of the hotel. "Fuck me." You pant when you walk into the glass door, your brain starved of oxygen after your climb. You hear a chuckle behind you and you groan when a large hand reaches for the door to open it. You hear him ask you something in Italian, and you frown, head hurting, and you try to remember the phrases from the book you bought with you. "I'm sorry. I don't speak Italian." You say as you turn to look at him, and your eyes widen. Your embarrassment has been witnessed by the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.

The second he sees the eyes of the pretty American, he knows that he’s met you before. In some life. It’s the instant quickening of his heart racing in his chest makes him smile. “Why would you come to Rome if you do not speak Italian?” He teases, reaching for your bag to take it for you.

He feels familiar and you wonder why, your heart pounding in your chest and your palms get sweaty as he carries your bag into the cool reception area. "Thank you. And for the record, I have been studying. Piacere di conoscerla." Your brow furrows in concentration and the man smiles at you, making you feel even more lightheaded. He grins, "pleasure to meet you." He replies in English and asks your name. You give it to him and his brow furrows, his stomach twisting. "My father is a historian. He loves Ancient Rome. He has come here many times on different trips for work." You confess, unsure why you are telling a stranger this but it feels like you've known him your entire life.

“Interesting.” Marcus licks his lips. “There was once a Princesa during the reign of Emperors Geta and Caracalla with that name.” He tells you. “Do you know the story?” He asks, wondering if you are here by chance, but he feels like you are not. “The lovers, right?” You ask, nodding and he smiles. “General Marcus Acacius fetched her from her home, stole her - from a bordering kingdom.” He had been told the story so many times as a child he can recite it by heart. “Falling for the strong and brave princesa during their journey to Rome where she was to marry Emperor Caracalla. They became lovers, star crossed, of course.” He frowns slightly, feeling an ache in his heart like he did every time this part of the story was told. “He watched as she was executed by the Emperor’s command after they were discovered but not before they had vowed to find each other in the next life.”

“How tragic and romantic. Put Romeo and Juliet to shame.” You quip and he nods, “their story was told many times during the fall of the empire. If a general wasn’t immune from punishment, then the plebeians certainly weren’t. The uprising began that day and Rome crumbled eventually.” He tells you and you nod, “I hope they found each other in another life.” You confess and tilt your head, “I still don’t know your name.” Just as the words leave your mouth, there’s footsteps down the stairs and your best friend squeals as she rushes towards you. “You’re here!” She hugs you and you hug her back, excited for her and her wedding. “And I see you have already met our best man. This is Marcus.” She says and you look at the man who helped you with your case. You murmur your name, “and Marcus. Like the story.” You offer him a soft smile and he winks at you, turning towards the groom to embrace him with a hug. “Antonio and Marcus served in the army together.” Lucille whispers as you turn to look at the men and you watch Marcus. He’s older than you, but he’s handsome. “And he’s single.” Your friend whispers and you roll your eyes, “don’t. I don’t want to be a cliché.” You whisper back and she giggles, taking your hand to drag you to the reception. She speaks in Italian to check you in and soon enough, a key is placed in your hand.

Antonio smirks as Marcus watches you walk away. “I didn’t tell you her name so it would be a surprise.” He chuckles, knowing how much Marcus enjoys telling that story of the Roman General. Marcus snorts and shakes his head. “I was watching her ass.” He tells his best friend honestly, who laughs. “She’s single.” He informs him. “Marnie made sure to tell me to pass that along.” He grins at Marcus. “I think she’s hoping that our two best friends hook up at her wedding.”

Marcus snorts, “you know I have that thing with Maria.” He says and Antonio rolls his eyes, “where you fuck her and she goes off to date men twice her age for money and she won’t commit? I love you, man, but you know that’s not serious. You want serious. You want the whole package.” Antonio knows his best friend and Marcus sighs, watching you as you walk towards the stairs with your case. “Get her case. Your rooms are next to each other. Marnie’s doing.” The groom holds his hands up and Marcus snorts but follows his direction. “Can I get your bag?” He asks and you nod, “I’m not built for this. We have elevators as big as a bathroom in the States.” You joke and Marnie beams as she looks between you. “Go settle in. We have a welcome dinner at eight and tomorrow it’s a spa day before the rehearsal dinner.” She says and you nod, hugging her before you make your way upstairs, followed by Marcus who carries your case. “What have you got in here? Bricks?” He teases and you giggle, “a girl has to be prepared for anything.” You tease and step onto the floor where your room is. You look at the numbers until you find it, placing the key card against the lock. “Thank you for carrying my case.” You say to Marcus after he places your case down in your room, his chest heaving a little and you get a little lost in his dark eyes. “You’re welcome, princesa.” He teases and your stomach lurches, your heart pounding at the nickname. “Thank you, General.” You tease, reminded of the story. His eyes widen a little and he reaches for his key card. “Turns out I’m next door so if you need anything, just knock.” He says and you nod, “thanks again.” He shuts your door and you slump down on the bed, looking up at the ceiling with a smile on your face. Maybe coming to this wedding alone wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Marcus has already unpacked his tuxedo hanging up and he sighs, feeling restless. He can hear you moving around next door and he decides to go see if you would like to sightsee with a translator. He feels drawn to you and Antonio is right, his arrangement with Maria isn’t satisfying. He needs to know if the connection he feels to you is real. He checks his hair and feels like his stomach is twisting as he knocks on your door.

You had showered and gotten changed into a sundress. The Italian sun is still hot and you are surprised by the knock on your door. You walk over to it, opening it and your heart thumps when you see Marcus standing there. “Hi.” You offer softly and he rubs the back of his neck, “hi. I, uh, I wondered if you wanted to see some of the sights. I know you’re going to be busy with wedding stuff but I have a friend who does tours and I wanted to show you Rome.” Your eyes widen at the gesture and he falters, “or not. If you’re busy.” You shake your head, “no. I’d love to. Let me just grab my purse.” You step back to grab your things and make sure you have your room key then you step into the hall with Marcus.

Marcus smiles as he guides you towards the stairs. “It has been a long time since I have walked the ruins as a tourist.” He explains. “I am an archeologist. So this is my passion and my job.”

“Wow. You know your stuff.” You grin, excited to see the sights with someone who knows so much about the ruins. You make your way downstairs and you adjust your purse on your shoulder as you exit the hotel and make your way down the stairs where you met Marcus. “No need for a gym with these steps.” You joke as you make your way down and Marcus chuckles, “we are a city of walkers but we do have quicker ways to get around.” He guides you over to his Vespa and your eyes widen, “I’ve never - this would be my first time.” You confess and Marcus opens the seat to grab two helmets. “You’ll be safe. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.” You nod and he places the helmet on your head, buckling it under your chin and you bite your lip at the feel of his hands on your skin.

Marcus feels his skin tingling when he touches you and once your helmet is in place, he smiles as he turns to climb on. “Wrap your arms around me, Princesa.” He instructs. “I would let you ride in front of me, but your pretty dress would fly up.” He’s smirking slightly, but you just nod and take a moment to settle in behind him, the weight of your arms comforting around his stomach. “I will keep you safe.” He promises.”

For some reason, his words warm you to your core and you believe him. He revs the engine and pulls away after kicking the kickstand up and you’re soon riding through the streets of Rome. Your eyes are wide at the sights and you wrap your arms around him a little tighter, letting him take you where he wants to go. You’re happy to be with him, feeling a sense of comfort like you’ve never known before.

American tourists have movies about Roman holidays so Marcus might zip through traffic a little more recklessly than he might have normally. If only to feel you squeeze him a little tighter, turning back to see your eyes wide as you take in the city he loves. Smiling like you are flying through the air. Perhaps a little romantic dreaminess in your eyes, like it’s something out of a fairy tale. He takes you around to all the famous sights. Skirting along the edges of the cars as he makes his way to the best examples of Ancient Rome, his own dig site.

You watch the city pass by until Marcus comes to a stop in an area that’s fenced off from the public. “Are we allowed to be here?” You ask, glancing around as he swings his leg over the bike and helps you over, reaching up to unbuckle your helmet. “We are allowed to be here” is all he says and you trust him as he locks the bike and takes your hand to guide you to the padlock. He pulls the key from his pants and opens it, escorting you inside the restricted area. “What is this?” You ask and he flicks on some of the overhead lamps, showcasing the dig site. “My latest project.” He says and your eyes widen, “wow.”

He watches as you look around curiously, the building had been built to protect the site and he smiles as he motions to the half excavated site. “We are right outside what would have been Geta and Caracalla’s palace.” He explains motioning to the center of the sight. “This area was their piazza, the place where they showed Rome their treachery.” He frowns slightly. “This is the spot where the general and the princesa were executed.” He hops down into the pit, to the stone platform and offers his hand to you to help you down. “Eventually, the people of Rome would have both emperors killed right here as well.”

As soon as he says the words, a sense of dread washes over you and you shiver, your head aching as a flash of a crowd looking up at you hits you. “Are you okay?” Marcus asks and you inhale deeply, nodding as you look at the site. “Yeah. Just - a lot of history to take in.” You confess and take his hand, letting him help you down to inspect the site he had excavated.

He wonders if you feel it, if the icy fingers of dread had inched down your spine. If you remembered like he had. People would think that he was crazy if he told them the truth. “We found the site a year ago.” He murmurs, his voice not carrying very far as he crouches down. “But we have uncovered so much. Look, there is a sword right here.” The first layers of the artifact have been uncovered but removing and cataloging the items had not been possible before he had closed the site for the wedding. His team would not work without him there.

You kneel down beside him, eying the sword that looks so familiar. “Incredible. Did - did you feel that? The dread?” You ask, voicing his question as the feeling hovers over you like this is an area you’ve been to before. “It’s so strange. I feel like I know this place.” You confess and glance down at the sword, “this sword feels familiar but it can’t be. It’s just my mind.”

“I feel it.” Marcus admits quietly, reaching for your hand and guiding it towards the relic. “I want to see something.” He murmurs, hoping you get the same flashback he does when he touches the sword.

Your fingertips touch the sword and you gasp, seeing an image of Marcus but he’s wearing armor, a scar on his face, and he is holding the sword, standing beside two men with blonde hair. “Oh my God.” You choke and he tilts his head, “what did you see?” He asks and you swallow, your throat dry. “You. But - but you’re wearing armor. Ancient armor. You’re standing next to two men with blonde hair.” You reveal, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Princesa.” Marcus murmurs, reaching out and cupping your cheeks as he turns towards you. “I have been looking for you for lifetimes.” He confesses softly. “Always looking, never finding you, until now.” He frowns slightly and sighs. “I was killed, right after you were, right here. Our bodies next to one another.” He sees the confusion in your eyes. “We are fated to be together again, since we were star-crossed so many years ago.”

You are confused, trying to process his words and the images become clearer. You and Marcus knew each other, loved each other, in another life. You can see the love in his eyes despite knowing each other for a few mere hours. You lean closer, “Marcus. Finally.” You murmur, pressing your forehead against his as it all becomes clearer. You have found him. Your love. “This is crazy.” You confess, gripping his wrists but you don’t love his hands, “you don’t even know me as I am now.”

“It does not matter.” Marcus hums. “I know your soul, just as you know mine.” His thumb brushes gently over your cheekbone. “I have waited so long to see you again, to kiss you once more.” All his relationships have never worked because they weren’t you, his princesa.

You can’t believe this is happening but it feels so right, like this is what you’ve been waiting for. All those relationships that fell apart because they weren’t him. You can’t help it. You surge forward to press your lips to his and you immediately feel like you’re home when his lips touch yours. It’s a feeling you’ve never experienced before.

Marcus groans into your mouth, pulling you closer and thanking the gods that he had been right. That he had trusted his instincts. “Princesa,” he growls, sliding his tongue into your mouth and deepening the kiss.

You let go of his wrists and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his body closer to yours. His tongue sliding against yours and you whimper into his mouth, flashes of the time you spent with Marcus in a past life go through your mind and make you fall in love with a man you knew all those lifetimes ago.

Marcus kisses you again and again, learning how you like to be kissed now and it fuses with the memories he has carried for his entire life. Breaking away to look into your eyes as he pants slightly. “I am sorry.” He murmurs softly. “I wish I could have protected you then.”

You shake your head, pecking his lips. “Don’t. There’s nothing you could’ve done. We were destined for death and we are here now. We are safe. We can be together. I- I live in the States and you’re here but…one of us will have to move. I do love pasta.” You confess with a smirk, “and Italian men.”

Marcus chuckles softly and lifts his chin to kiss your forehead. “How do you feel about living in an apartment that overlooks the old city?” He asks. “My place is only a few blocks from here. I’m staying in the hotel because of the wedding party and being the best man.”

“I’d say I better start learning Italian.” You grin, knowing your parents won’t understand your move but you do. There’s no way you’re going to be parted from him now. Marcus chuckles and it warms you. “We should be heading back for the welcome dinner.” He says after he checks his watch and you nod, letting him help you stand up and you glance around the place where you were killed all those years ago. He escorts you back to his Vespa and you are back in the hotel after he speeds through the small streets of the city. He holds your hand as you enter the hotel and you are soon outside your rooms, “I better get ready for the dinner.” You murmur, leaning against him and you kiss his jaw.

“You will look gorgeous, princesa.” He murmurs, turning his head and kissing your lips again. “Although I cannot say you look better than the bride, it will be bad manners.”

You giggle, “no. She will look gorgeous. God, I want to invite you into my room but we don’t have time.” You whine, sliding your hands down his linen shirt, “later. Later I want you in my bed, baby.”

Marcus hums in agreement. “Tonight.” He agrees. “No one will interrupt us. I can relearn how you taste.” He growls, leaning in and nibbling on your earlobe. “I can recall it even now, princesa.”

Anyone who could hear you would think you’re crazy but to you and Marcus, this is very real. You whimper and step back before you allow yourself to give in and forget about the reason that you’re here. You shower and dress in one of the pretty dresses you’d packed for the wedding events, grabbing your clutch, and you hear a knock on your door. You open it and see Marcus standing at your door, looking devastatingly handsome in his jacket with his shirt slightly unbuttoned. “God, this isn’t fair. Do you think they’d miss the best man and maid of honor if we went missing?” You tease, trailing your eyes along his form.

His eyes flash in amusement and even though he wants to push you back into the room and strip you out of the at dress, he extends his arm. “It’s an Italian wedding.” He jokes. “They expect it.” You beam at his offer and immediately step forward and wrap your hand around his arm. “Tell me, princesa, do you still like to ride horses?”

You nod, “I grew up riding horses. Felt instantly drawn to it and now I know why.” You squeeze his arm and he helps you downstairs to the welcome dinner full of family and friends. Marnie and Antonio see you and Marcus, their eyebrows raised as you hold hands and Marnie giggles, “I didn’t think you two would hook up that fast. But it seems my matchmaking skills have surpassed my expectations.” She teases and you grin, looking at Marcus, “it feels like I’ve known him forever.” Marcus winks at you and your friends beam until they are dragged away and Marcus takes you to the bar to get you a drink.

Marcus keeps his hand on your waist possessively as he turns towards the bartender. “What kind of drink would you like, princesa?” He asks, making you smile at the nickname. “Whatever you will have.” He nods and loves how you trust him with choosing for you. “Renato Ratti Barolo Serradenari.” He tells the bartender before he leans into your ear. “It reminds me of the wine we drank while we were traveling to Rome.”

You grin, “we drank a lot of wine during that journey and I seem to remember you drank it from me instead of a cup many times.” You smirk and he chuckles, his hand sliding a little lower, “best way to drink it.” You giggle and the bartender sets your glasses down just as a hand curls around Marcus’s arm. “I’ve been looking all over for you, lover.” She coos, leaning in towards Marcus.

“Maria.” Marcus lifts a brow as he turns towards the statuesque blonde. “I didn’t think you could come?” She had claimed that she was too busy to accompany him, and now she is here when he would want her anywhere else. “My schedule cleared.” Her bright smile is stiff, having been canceled on by her current conquest. It’s frustrating and she needs the comfort of Marcus before she starts her search for a wealthy man to marry again. “Now I’m all yours for the weekend.” She promises, dropping a kiss on the edge of his mouth before turning towards you. “Oh! Who is your little friend?” The first part of the conversation was in Italian, but now she switches to English for your benefit.

Marcus says your name, “she’s the maid of honor and my date.” He confesses, “the love of my life and I will be spending tonight with her. I’m glad you could make it Maria but tonight, I have my princesa.” He squeezes your waist and you lean into him, giving her a smile, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You don’t feel threatened, knowing Marcus wouldn’t continue his relationship with her now that he’s found you again.

“The love of your life?” She huffs in confusion, not expecting him to so blatantly turn down her company. “Princesa?” Her eyes narrow. “That nickname you moan every night in your sleep? This is her?”

Marcus nods, rubbing your hip, “it’s her. I have long dreamed of this beautiful creature and now she’s here. I am hers and she is mine.” He admits and your heart thumps, knowing this sounds crazy but you are a love story centuries in the making. You place your hand on his chest, “yours.” You promise and he smiles, kissing your forehead.

Maria is dumbfounded, unable to speak and she turns on her heel and walks away. He pulls you closer. “Apologies, princesa.” He murmurs softly. “I did not know she would show up, but I will talk with her and let her know that we are no more.” He gazes into your eyes lovingly. “No one else could ever capture my interest.”

You shake your head, "it's okay. We didn't even know this was possible until today. I cannot be angry with you for keeping company." You caress his chest, "and we know the truth. Everyone else is going to be confused." You remind him and he nods, knowing that the story is unbelievable. You are soon seated opposite each other at the welcome dinner and you stretch your leg out to caress his while everyone eats their dessert.

His dark eyes meet yours, smirking slightly as you trail your foot up his let and press against his crotch lightly. Despite the centuries apart, you are still bold and have no problem in taking what you want. He reaches down and squeezes your foot playfully while Antonio asks him a question that makes him look away from you.

Marnie grabs your attention, talking to you about the spa session for tomorrow and you half listen, watching Marcus speak to the groom until the bride nudges you. "What's up with your both? It's like you've known each other forever." She observes and you shrug, "it just feels right. Like I was meant for him." You see Marcus wink at you from across the table, caressing your foot. "Good. I thought he was perfect for you." You nod and smirk at Marcus, eager for him.

“Maria looked unhappy.” Antonio observes with a smirk. He’s never hidden the fact that he’s never cared for Marcus’s previous lover so he seems to be thrilled. “Just- don’t hurt her. Marnie will make me hurt you if you do.” He jokes, rolling his eyes, but Marcus snorts. “I would rather cut my own arm off.” He promises seriously. “She is precious and I will keep her heart safe.”

You feel bad but you are eager for the dinner to be over and not soon enough, it is. "Go. Go." Marnie orders when you hug her and you reach for Marcus's hand when you are finally free of maid of honor duty for the night. He smirks, guiding you through the crowd until you are walking up the stairs and you giggle when he slaps your ass.

He is eager to touch you again. To find out if the same things he had done to you so long ago still works. “You have no problem with the stairs now.” He teases, chuckling when you huff and roll your eyes.

You open your clutch, finding your keycard when you reach your door and you moan when he presses against you, his lips finding your neck and his hands on your hips. You lean back against him, tilting your head as you blindly try to unlock the door.

“Princesa, when was the last time you had a man touch you?” He doesn’t care that you’ve had other lovers, he just wants to make sure that he prepares you properly. He twitches against your ass and grinds against you. “Eaten your pussy like it is a luscious desert?”

You whimper at his words, "I had - my ex and I broke up a few weeks ago. It didn't work. I didn't know why but he wasn't you. I've been tested." You reassure him, "no one has ever made me feel like this and you haven't even touched me." You whine and grind back against him, the door finally opening with a beep.

“I’ll get tested.” He promises, sure that Maria wouldn’t give him something, but he will want to give you that reassurance. “This time I can wear a condom.” He guides you inside and spins you around to press you against the door as it closes. “Then I will spill inside you like I wanted to do so many times we were together in that life.”

You moan, "yes. So many times I wanted you to do it. Knock me up and claim me so he couldn't." You confess, your hands sliding up to push his jacket from his shoulders, your fingers immediately working on the buttons of his shirt when the jacket is on the ground.

He holds your chin with his two fingers and tips your head up to take his kiss, pouring himself into the way his mouth slots against yours. Pressing you into the door more firmly as he grabs your ass and pulls you up to allow your legs to wrap around his waist.

You wrap your legs around him and he turns, carrying you over to the bed, your heels dropping to the floor on the journey over and you moan when he lays you down. "I've missed this view." You tease while he shrugs off his shirt, exposing his chest.

“That bed in our tent, covered with furs to keep you warm.” He chuckles. “Although you preferred to wear me at night.” His hands slide under your dress to drag your panties down and peel them off your legs to toss away. “Wearing my tunics.”

You sigh in delight when his hands caress your legs after he tosses your panties over his shoulder. "You loved me in those tunics." You giggle and he nods, "I fucking did." You grin and his hands push your dress higher, "don't tease me, baby. I have waited many lifetimes for this moment."

“Not teasing.” He huffs. “Appreciating.” He reaches under your arm for the zipper to your dress. “We have all night. Nothing to stop us or come between us.” He reaches for the strap and drag them down to expose your tits to his delighted eyes. “Watching you bathe that first time made me ache. Wanted you then.”

You lift your hips so he can drag your dress off your body and you shiver in anticipation. "I would've taken you that night. I hated you for kidnapping me but also thought you were incredibly strong and handsome. I would've let you fuck me but I was pissed at you." You smirk until his hands find your tits, squeezing them to make you moan his name.

He loves that you’ve retained all your memories, or recovered them. Knowing that while you have to learn about each other now, you do know the people you used to be, the history you shared. “I was still denying myself.” He settles down between your thighs and presses his nose against your bare cunt. “No hair.” He hums, inhaling your scent with a grin. “But you still smell the same. Let me see if you taste the same.”

You can't believe how many memories are coming back to you when hours ago, you didn't know the man between your thighs existed. His tongue slides through your folds and you moan, closing your eyes as your fingers tangle in his hair.

He can almost smell the smoke from the camp fires as he licks into you. Tasting you again and twitching against the sheets of the bed. Groaning as he holds your thighs and pulls them apart even more to devour your cunt properly.

You lift your thighs a little higher, your hands cupping your tits as his tongue makes your mind go blank. "Fuck." You pant, "that's so good." You compliment him as his tongue slides through your folds like he's been there a thousand times and in a way, he has.

Marcus doesn’t hesitate to push his tongue inside you, remembering how much you had loved it and he grunts in approval when you whine in pleasure. Wanting to make you cum like this once more. His fingers dig into your thighs as he eats you ravenously.

His nose presses against your clit and you whimper, one hand coming down to run your fingers through his hair. He is pushing his tongue into you like a man starved and your thighs press against his head, wanting to keep him between your thighs.

He feels your stomach heave and he throws an arm over your waist to keep you pinned to the bed. Loving how responsive you are and desperate to cum you appear. Trying to roll your hips down to his tongue.

You haven't felt like this before and your body is so heated, overwhelmed by how he's making you feel. You moan, your chest heaving as he slides his tongue up to suck on your clit. "Oh God, yes!" You cry, your walls starting to flutter around his tongue.

Marcus growls into your folds, throbbing in need as you soak his mouth and chin. Loving how your thighs squeeze his head harshly while your back bows up.

He laps at you, working you through it, and you whimper, "fuck. You are so good. I need to see you, Marcus. Need to see you again." You plead, lowering your thighs from his face.

Marcus stretches tall and climbs off the bed so he can unbutton his pants. The suit he had worn didn’t require a belt and his shoes were toed off near the door. Leaving him to pull down his pants and boxer briefs, letting his hard cock spring free.

You groan, shifting onto your knees and after he kicks his pants aside, you shuffle closer as he stands at the foot of the bed. "Fuck. So thick." You moan and you grip his cock, leaning in to take his cock between your lips.

Marcus moans, reaching down and caressing your cheek, “still so damn eager.” He chuckles, eyes fluttering from the way your tongue presses against the sensitive head of his cock when you roll the foreskin down.

You moan at the salty taste of his cock as you take him deeper. You have memories now of doing this many times but right now, it’s your first time in this lifetime and you are eager to enjoy it.

He doesn’t rock his hips, letting you set your own pace and he admires the length of your lashes as your eyes flutter up at him. “So beautiful.” He coos, caressing your cheek again. “My princesa is beautiful in every lifetime.”

His words have you dripping and you start to rock your jaw, watching him until you move a little faster and you close your eyes in concentration. Your palms dig into the mattress as you keep yourself upright while you take his cock down your throat.

Marcus grits his teeth, enjoying the pleasure of your mouth, but he wants to be inside you. He wants to have your walls squeezing him tight as he makes you cum. “Good girl.” He hums, pulling back.

You whine when he starts to pull you off his cock, spit dripping down your chin, and he grabs your waist to shift you to lay down against the pillows. "Want to be inside you." He murmurs and caresses your leg, "let me grab a condom." He says and walks over to his bag, shuffling until he's walking back to the bed, kneeling on it as he opens the packet.

He knows that as soon as he gets his results back, he will be discarding the condom, but he needs to do this. He pinches the tip and holds himself while rolling the rubber down his length. “Dreamed about this.” He groans, leaning forward and kissing you again.

You cup his cheeks, your heartbeat in your ears as you watch him settle between your thighs. "I love you." You murmur, unable to believe you've been reunited like this. He shuffles closer and you gasp when he starts to push into you. "You okay, princesa?" He asks and you nod, "perfect. I feel perfect." You promise, wrapping your legs around him.

He groans, the way you squeeze him changing from the placement of your hips. You are hot and tight, perfect and he feels like he’s come home. “You are so wonderful, princesa.” He praises breathless as he starts to slowly pull back to surge forward again.

You let him rock into you, take control, and you caress his shoulders and back. “No scars.” You observe, “not battle hardened.” You murmur, sliding your hands down his chest.

He can’t tell if you are disappointed or pleased, but he continues to thrust, picking up the pace and smirking when you whimper. “Feel good, princesa?”

You nod, “so good. I’ve missed you so much.” You confess even though this morning you had no memory of him. Now, you can’t imagine your life without him. You try to rock up to meet his thrusts and you caress his skin, “I’m so happy you are unharmed.” You answer his unspoken question .

“Life is more complicated but easier.” He huffs, turning and scattering kisses over your shoulder. “We are free to love, to go where we wish.”

“I know. Imagine explaining the Internet.” You joke breathlessly and he chuckles against your skin, continuing to rock into you. “Fuck. And modern birth control. I got an IUD so no unexpected - I really thought that was going to happen to us back then.” You confess, “then I would’ve been killed.”

“It was not meant to be.” He presses his lips to yours again. “Maybe in this life.” He grinds into you, stealing your breath on a moan as he chuckles against your lips.

“We are together in this life.” You murmur against his lips and you moan, sliding your tongue against his as he rocks into you. It’s everything that’s been missing from your life and you love him. God, you love him. You whimper when he adjusts his hips and hits something delicious inside you.

“There?” He groans your name into your mouth and slides down to his elbows, pushing his arms under you because he needs to feel closer. It’s not enough, it might never be enough. He concentrates on that spot, wanting to see you fall over the edge and have a new memory of you.

You nod, your mouth falling open as he rocks into you and you pant, your walls fluttering around his cock. "Shit, baby. I - fuck. You're gonna make me-" You choke as you fall apart, clamping down on his cock and pulsing around him.

Marcus hisses, gritting his teeth while you soak him in your juices. Loving how you are coming apart for him. “Fuck, fuck.” He groans, trying to fuck you through it but his thrusts are harder.

You slide your hands down to his ass, squeezing, “cum for me, General. I want to see you cum.” You plead, groaning when his face screws up and he twitches inside you, spilling inside the condom. You slide your hands up his back and whimper, loving how he looks when he cums for you.

Marcus strains over you, working himself through it with a grinding circular motion of his hips until he is collapsing into you. “Fuck.” He pants. “Perfect, princesa, you are so perfect.”

You sigh, loving how he feels on top of you, your hands caressing his back as he presses you into the mattress. You feel complete, like you’re where you were always supposed to be. 

**** 

“You may now kiss the bride.” The priest declares and you grin, looking at Marcus. His face is bright and he surges forward to press his lips to yours, spinning you to dip you as he smiles against your lips. The city of Rome as your background along with a beautiful sunset. Marnie and Antonio stand either side clapping and you kiss your husband. It may have taken many lifetimes but you and Marcus finally found each other again. No one, not even an emperor, can separate you now.

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

If you are up for it could write more Justice League x Assistant reader?

That scenario did things to me honestly, and I can't find anything similar 😭

Maybe reader calls in sick and the each JL member goes to check on them unanounced (reader never told them were they lived but of course they'd know *sideeyes batman*) which end up on all the members questioning and pointing at each other *cue spider man meme*, because why are you at my darling's- I mean our Assistant's house!

Reader kicks everyone out except the gourmet chef batman brought to cook reader some chicken soup.

A Day in Life: In Health and Sickness

Synopsis: A day in life were you, the Justice League's assistant, find out that sickness and a bunch of obsessed superheroes are just too much to bear all at once.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader; Platonic!Alfred Pennyworth

Tw: Nonconsensual (not sexual) touching; A single mention of obscene acts; Kinda breaking and entering; Reader gets physically restrained; Kinda forced infantilization? But not really, just humiliation; Some members of the League might be out of character bc I don't know them well enough; I was sleepy while revising and editing this so I might fix any mistakes I didn’t see later; English is not my 1st language.

Word count: 2,6k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: Thank you so much for your compliments and the request!! Your suggestion really gave me inspiration to write as soon as I saw it. It's not exactly what you asked for but I hope it's the same vibe and you like it!! Also I’ve seen all the requests for a part 2 of “He's My Collar”, but as stated here, I didn't answer bc I’m working on it! I just didn't have any ideas yet!

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

Whatever hit you today, it sucks. Yesterday, in the afternoon, you had a mild throbbing in your head, but not exactly a headache, at night, fever hit you, alongside a cough. Medicine helped enough but today you still felt a little warm, your head hurt, your nose was somehow stuffed and leaking at the same time. You've been awake for an hour and still just couldn't get yourself to care for your basic needs like showering and eating, let alone go to work, so you called in sick. At least you would have some piece for a day.

Or that's what you thought, until you heard some tapping on your window, scaring the shit out of you, and saw Superman outside with a sympathetic smile and holding a pharmacy bag, a crate of water bottles and food.

Ugh, of course you couldn't actually have some peace.

You took a deep breath to prepare yourself and got up, walking towards you bedroom window, and tried sticking your head outside, hoping he wouldn't enter your home if you kicked him out before, but before you could do anything else, he supersped inside and suddenly was at your side, making you dizzier.

— Hey! I heard what happened. How’re you feeling? — The alien’s face showcased his concern on his furrowed brows and he took a step too close (any step in your direction taken by one of the heroes was already too close for you), extending his arm forward to place the back of his hand in your forehead. You took a step back but he didn't seem to mind.

— Uh, I'm fine. You didn't need to come here. — Superman shook his head.

— I wanted to help. Here, I brought som- — Doorbell. The hero looked in the direction the sound came from, most likely using his X-Ray vision to look through the walls and doors, and squinted his eyes. Oh boy. — You called someone? — His voice is weirdly calm, contrasting with the way he abruptly starts marching out of your room and to the door.

Earlier you thought the fast exertion of movements would be too great for you, but apparently adrenaline was on your side, enough to follow him around as if you were the visitor inside your own place.

— I didn't. — You respond flatly and holding back a groan from annoyance, since you also didn't invite him.

Superman immediately opens the door as soon as it's within his reach and what's on the other side surprises you more than when you got the job at the watchtower.

— Superman. — Batman didn't seem surprised, but he also never showed emotions other than anger. — (Y/N). This is Penny-One. — He is surely referencing the old man well dressed on his side. — He is here to take care of you. — You raise an eyebrow, almost speechless.

— T-Take care of me? — You helplessly watch them invading your residency, painfully aware there's nothing you can do. Superman crossed his arms.

— This is not necessary, I came here to do just that. — Superman’s protest unfortunately doesn't give you any hint of how this will all turn out, nor does it scare Batman and his friend away..

— You have your own responsibilities. — Batman simply states. — You should go.

Penny-One simply turns to you.

— It's a pleasure, Miss/Master/Mx (Y/N), even in your condition. Master Batman talks a lot about you. — You don't know what to stay and it probably shows, since no one waits much for your reaction before Penny-One is moving towards your kitchen and Batman and Superman continue with their argument.

You just go and sit down on your couch, questioning your life decisions and escape plans, which will have to wait until this damned curse leaves your body (and your home).

Your hands raise to rub your face and maybe give you some clearance, maybe wake you up from this nightmare, but keeping your eyes closed and sitting down only remind you of your condition. You feel worse or is it just your spirits? Either way, you let your body slide down until your side rests on the couch cushions, arms hugging your own body to try to have some warmth back. When did it become so cold?

At least their voices were low, as if trying not to bother you, it's a little soothing, especially with the promise of having food. Your eyes hurt just from staying open so you don't. At some point, some type of fabric is thrown over your body and a hand combs through your hair. You are too weak to do anything.

Next time you open your eyes, it's due to disturbing noises, your head is no longer on the arm of the couch and instead is laying on someone’s bare thighs. A pair of hands is running through your locks, and a really nice smell is in the air.

Did you fall asleep?

That would explain why your head is on fucking Wonder Woman's lap and she is looking at you lovingly. Also the fabric from before is Superman's cape.

You quickly shoot up, although just as fast, four or five pairs of hands, coming from seemingly out of nowhere — startling you even more — push you back down, you don't go without struggle, and soon, all hands disappear, green lights catch your attention and you can't move your body a single inch anymore. Somehow, you ended up restrained by a green and bright cocoon, as if you were soon to be a butterfly, only your face is free. Green Lantern’s construct.

— Hey, hey, calm down, hot stuff. I know she’s scary and you would never want to be close to anyone else but me, but you still need rest. — You're turned to the ceiling against your wishes. For some reason the fact that your whole body is covered doesn't give you the comfort nor the protection it should give you, instead, it reminds you of how vulnerable you are.

Your wide and paranoid eyes try to search for anything, since your head is being held in place. You can see Wonder Woman above you, glaring at something outside your line of vision, you are still in her lap. A bit of Aquaman’s blond hair on the bottom of your vision. And Batman, towering over you and the amazon, just observing as always.

— You can release them now, Green Lantern. — It's Superman's voice.

— He is not going to. — You see Batman saying at the same time another voice speaks the same sentence, making all of them turn in the direction of the sound, somewhere you can't see, but you recognize the voice. — He thinks they're weak and incapable of making decisions. — I'm sorry, who is weak and incapable of making decisions here? — He also wants to prove he is the only one capable of protecting and taking care of (Y/N), and impress them so they will fall right into his arms, call him a hero and give him a kiss… And other obscene things. — Batman smirks. Wonder Woman and another new and deep voice loudly laugh, the masculine voice being more obnoxious. Someone scoffs indignantly.

— Okay. Get out of my fucking head or I will make you. — The Lantern's voice sounds angry and you hear hurried footsteps. They wouldn't fight right here, right?! Right beside your sick body and in the middle of your crumpled apartament… It would make such a mess…

— I wasn't inside your head. Your thoughts were too loud, it's like you are screaming in my ear.

— I will make you scream! — You hear Superman superspeeding, probably getting in between the fighting duo.

— Ha- Green Lantern, calm down. No one will make anyone do anything here.

The agonizing feeling of restriction grows.

— WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE? — You scream in a husky voice, panting right after. Everyone is silent and the next second, the construct moves you around until you're sitting up, back to the back of the couch. You are still being held and manhandled, but at least you're not in someone's lap and you can see something other than your ceiling.

Martian Manhunter is standing a few meters away from you, Superman by his side. Wonder Woman was still sitting beside you and doesn't look like getting up any time soon, Green Lantern makes his way to sit down on your other side, placing his arm around you, gladly you can't even feel it. Batman is still standing on the side of the couch, his cape covering his body. Aquaman is sitting in your armchair, his face laid on his hand, watching amused, if not a bit annoyed.

It's so weird seeing all of them, suited up, in the middle of your living room, and in plain daylight.

— We came here to nurse you back to health. — Wonder Woman speaks.

— Uhh, don't you think this is a little too much? — The heroes look at each other as if looking for the issue.

— I mean, yeah. I could do it alone, but for some reason when I got here, these freaks had already broken into your house. — Freak Lantern says, pointing an accusing finger at the other freaks in question, the trinity, Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman. — Those two came in later. — He nodded at Martian Manhunter and Aquaman, not giving them a single look, his eyes solely on you. Like everytime he insists on overly making eye contact with you, it's a bit uncanny. — Worry not, beautiful. I will kick them out for you. — Superman and Wonder Woman snort at his arrogance.

— You could go with them. I'm fine, I don't need help. I’ve been taking care of myself for years and can still do it. — You've been nice long enough, they crossed the line, they invaded your apartment, which is so unprofessional, and you need to set limits. They just look at you with pity.

— I am are aware of my neglect. — Neglect? — But it's going to be different now that we are reunited… — Uh? What is Manhunter talking about?

— Exactly. History has proven how men are unreliable and indifferent to others. I'm the only one you need, darling. — Wonder Woman caresses your face. — I don't even know what they think they are doing here…

— What are you doing here, princess? Don't you have mommy issues to fix or a guy named Steve Trevor to talk to? — The amazon furrowed her eyebrows and glared at the one sitting on your other side.

— Don't listen to him, (Y/N). I left Steve a long time ago, when I met you. — Girl, why? Go back to your man! Leave me alone! — What about Aquaman? Doesn't he have a kingdom to rule? — The man in question dismissed her answer with a hand movement.

— I’m protecting Atlantis’s future by making sure none of you get any ideas and (Y/N) survives their illness. — Batman shook his head.

— I’ve already made sure they're taken care of. You shouldn't be here. There's more important matters for us out there.

— Then why aren't you there?

Their battle of egos is just too fast for your slowed down brain to process and try to formulate any form of strategy. Before their banter gets worse, the older man from before reappears.

— Your soup is ready, Miss/Master/Mx (Y/N). — Penny-One seems unbothered by the commotion around you, walking in with the source of the heavenly smell. Your mouth waters.

— Let me do it, Penny-One. — Wonder Woman gently offers and takes the bowl from him, along with the spoon. The Justice League makes sounds of disgust when they start watching her spoon feeding you (they wanted to be in her place).

You groan, complain, try to wiggle out of the construct but nothing works, especially with your fatigued and sick state. If you weren't claustrophobic before you might be from now on. You are clearly uncomfortable and practically begging to get out but for some reason they just won't listen. It gets to the point where as soon as you finish your soup — after realizing, again, that with those people it's just easier to surrender —, and take your medicine, Green Lantern’s temper apparently gets done with your whining and resistance, and he simply makes another construct. Now you have a pacifier in your mouth. It's your limit.

They start fighting again because some of them find it degrading, some like to hear your voice even if they know how close to cussing them out you are, and some think it's cute and prefer your quietness over your cries.

You can't move. You can't spit it out. You can't bite it off. You can't ask for help.

Green Lantern is rubbing your cheek while — slightly — mocking you. Wonder Woman is cooing at you, while trying to convince the Lantern to stop with his antics. Aquaman is clearly expressing he is on the Lantern’s side. Batman, Superman and Martian Manhunter are threatening him.

Frustration gets the better of you and the dam breaks loose. Now you are wrapped, with a pacifier and crying. Like a baby. In front of your bosses. In front of people who think you are vulnerable and need them. They're practically keeping you hostage. You didn't want them here. You told them no, countless times, and they just blatantly ignored your boundaries.

You have a pa-ci-fi-er. In. Your. Mouth.

And they are talking. They are ignoring you. They're been doing it for hours. No. Months. That's abuse.

This is the most emotion they ever got out of you and it immediately quiets everyone down. They're just staring at you, shocked. This whole thing is just a shitshow. A disaster. They're a curse. You are cursed.

It's so distracting that it makes Green Lantern lose his concentration, which is what fuels his ring’s power, and the constructs start dissipating.

You immediately get up and put as much distance between you and the team, who all have wide eyes and maybe had just now realized the gravity of the situation, while thinking about control damage.

You are searching desperately for how you could effectively kick them out, while also experiencing just the aftereffects of a new trauma, when it looks like it will get even worse. Flash zooms into the apartment.

— Hey, (Y/N)! Sorry I took so long! Busy Day. N-Not that I wouldn't quit anything and everything just to help you. I just now saw the notification that you took a day off today! W-What… W-What are you guys doing here…? — The speedster noticed after his rambles the he is not the only one in the middle of your living room, and points at the whole team, who is on the complete opposite side of you. They also point at him.

— You’re late. — Batman states.

— Slowest man alive. — Green Lantern calls out his friend.

Flash looks around as if gathering his thoughts and notices your distressed state. He turns completely to them, his back to you and him being between you and his team.

— What did you do to them? — At his demand, all of them start pointing at each other and giving some sort of explanation or their side of the story at the same time, turning it into unintelligible sounds, until your yell interrupts them.

— GET. OUT!

— But-

— OUT!

— But, (Y/N)-

— NOW! GET OUT NOW!

They grumble but comply. Penny-One, who was totally unfazed during the while ordeal, just sighs, and starts making his way with them. Until you take a timid step toward him and stop him.

— N-Not you… I-I mean the soup was really good and I don't think I will have the energy to cook later… I-If it's n-not bothering you… — The older man smiles placantinly at you.

— Of course, dear. I'm getting paid either way, might as well just finish my job here.

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@wandalfnation

[dewwinchester]

stitches | d.w.

synopsis: dean texts you for help, and you drop everything for him.

requested by: @dingo-ate-my-hot-lettuce-crazy

pairing: pre-series!dean winchester x reader

word count: 1.6k+

warnings: fluff, some angst, john winchester, blood, wounds/injury, stitching up wounds, typical spn series warnings. no use of y/n, no pronouns used!

a/n: if john winchester has no haters, i'm dead <33 also, it's currently 12am, so if the editing is a little wonky, pls forgive me

You gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white as you navigated through the torrential downpour hammering down around you and your car. The rain was relentless, blinding you as it pounded against the windshield. The smell of wet asphalt filled your car as the tires slipped on the rain-soaked road. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears – a mixture of adrenaline from trying to avoid a horrific car wreck and anxiety from the message still illuminating your car in a dim light.

I need your help.

It wasn’t a message you were expecting. Normally, in your line of work, pleas for help came in the form of a frantic phone call or a scream in the dark. They never came in the form of a random text message.

And they never came from Dean Winchester.

You were having a relatively normal night, working a case and staking out a couple of vamps, when your phone buzzed with several messages from Dean. First, he asked if you were busy. Then, he asked if you were nearby. Moments later, he sent you an address to a motel. Then, came the message that caused you to leave the stakeout completely and go frantically speeding down the road.

Your tires screeched as you rounded a corner. The neon light of the motel soon appeared ahead, its reflection dancing across the many puddles on the asphalt. You pulled into the first parking spot you saw and stepped out of your car. The rain immediately soaked you to the bone, wetting your hair and your clothes, sending a chill through you, but you couldn't find yourself caring as your eyes scanned for Dean's room number.

The motel was rather seedy-looking – more so than normal. The wooden palings were splitting, and the paint was chipping off the trimmings and walls. There wasn't any other car in sight. You wondered just how bad things were if Dean had found himself in a place like this.

Once you found his room, you practically ran over to the door and threw it open, not bothering to knock. Your eyes immediately landed on Dean, who sat on the edge of one of the beds, his back to you. A wave of relief washed over you – he was alive – but the sight of his tense shoulders and the untouched beer bottle in his hand kept your anxiety simmering.

You closed the door behind you and took off your saturated jacket, leaving it next to Dean's leather one.

"Hey," you said with a sigh, "You okay?"

Dean responded with a curt nod but said nothing more. You stepped closer to him and placed your hand gently on his shoulder. He flinched at the touch, and you felt a pang in your chest. When you finally got close enough, you quickly scanned his face. The bags under his eyes were darker than usual, and his normally sharp gaze was clouded with exhaustion. HIs hair was wet and spiky, and his lip trembled from the cold.

Your eyes continued to trail down to his side, where his shirt clung to his skin, dark and wet with blood. Three jagged and deep gashes spread across Dean's side. His shirt was torn.

Your eyes widened as panic once again surged through you. You frantically looked around for anything you could use to stop the bleeding. You grabbed the first towel you could get your hands on and pressed it to his side, grimacing when Dean winced in pain.

"Jesus, Dean. What the hell happened?"

"Werewolf," he gritted out.

"I think you're gonna need stitches."

There was no first aid kit in sight, so your mind began running through alternatives. You could go to the front desk and ask if there were any supplies, but asking for anything more than a simple band-aid would cause suspicion, and the last thing you needed was someone knocking on the door asking too many questions.

You could use dental floss. You had known plenty of hunters that used it in the past and not had a problem, but you weren't sure there were any needles…

"There's a sewing kit in the bathroom."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "You read my mind."

“One of my many talents.” 

----

Needle, thread, dental floss, tissues, water. You looked over the supplies in front of you, mind racing at a million miles an hour. Despite being a hunter yourself, you weren’t exactly a natural when it came to stitching wounds and performing first aid. In fact, the sight of too much blood caused your head to throb and your legs to go numb.

Dean had already taken off his shirt, leaving you to see the full extent of his injuries. The gashes started at the top of his ribs and curled around to his left shoulder blade. Blood continued to trail down his back, causing your mouth to go dry. Pins and needles tingled your toes, and the room began to spin…

You shook off your thoughts and shifted your weight between your two feet, hoping to get some blood flow back there. You put your thoughts and discomfort behind you and prepared to begin. 

“This isn’t gonna feel great,” you said, trying to control the shake in your voice. 

“Not my first time,” he replied. 

You grabbed the needle and thread, and – with shaky hands – tried your best to thread the cotton through the eye. You sat behind him, deciding to start around his shoulder. With a damp cloth, you tried your best to clean around the area, whispering apologies whenever Dean flinched. 

“What happened?” you asked quietly, using your gentlest touch to guide the needle through. 

“I told you,” he said through gritted teeth, “werewolf.”

“Yeah, I know, but…” you trailed off. “Where’s your dad?” 

Dean clenched his jaw, and you immediately knew you had touched on a rough subject. Throughout the time that you had known Dean, you had learnt his relationship with his father was far from healthy. John Winchester was not your favourite person in the world. In fact, you and Dean had gotten into plenty of arguments about him in the past. 

“He’s not here.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you said, continuing your stitching. “Why isn’t he here?”

“Do we have to do this–?”

“--Yes.”

Dean sighed, scrubbing his hand down his face. The anger and tension radiating off him was palpable, his shoulders were tense and his breathing was heavy. You finished stitching the first gash, and tied the thread off with a neat little knot. Instead of immediately moving on to the next one, you moved around and knelt in front of Dean so you were eye level. You placed a hand on his right knee and traced gentle circles into his skin with your thumb. You raised your eyebrows, sending him a look that was simultaneously stern and empathetic.

You just wanted to know he was okay.

“We’d been stakin’ out the thing for weeks,” Dean began. “We finally pinpointed it to this boathouse. Dad was sure that it was in there, so he sent me in first to sweep the area.”

“And…?”

“Turns out it was a lot smarter than we thought,” Dean said, a dejected smile on his lips. “It was waitin’ there for us. Dad knew, but I didn’t.” 

“Then why did he send you in there?”

Dean shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you. But the thing had me on the ground before I even realized what was goin’ on. Put it’s claws in me and ran.”

You shuddered. 

“Dad didn’t stay,” Dean continued. “The second he realised it jumped ship, he went too. Left me with my phone and wallet… I walked here.” 

“What?” 

If Dean’s anger was palpable, you were damn-near irate. You pressed your lips together, trying to control yourself from spewing all sorts of profanities. If you had it your way, you would have marched your way up to John Winchester and given him what for. You would have knocked his lights out if Dean had let you. 

You stood and pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes.

"He – you? God!"

"Alright hot-head, calm down."

"No, I will not calm down!" You spun on your heel, turning to face him again. "Your own father left you for dead!"

"He's done worse."

You laughed bitterly. "That doesn't surprise me."

"Alright," Dean sighed, raising a hand to stop your tirade. "I'm okay! I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Oh yeah, you're the pinnacle of okay."

"Your sarcasm isn't helping."

You shook your head. Angry tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you were too stubborn to let them fall.

"I just wish you would understand that you deserve better," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "You could leave his ass behind any time you like -"

"Oh yeah? And then what?"

You paused, and looked down to your feet. 

"You could come with me?" 

For half a second, Dean smiled. “You and I would kill each other in half an hour.” 

He was right – but you’d never let him admit it. 

“Why’d you text me then?” You asked. “If we’re just gonna kill one another–”

Dean shot you a pointed look. 

“– I’m serious.” You said. 

Dean stood up with a groan and walked over to you. You stood with your arms crossed, a slight frown creasing your brow. Nothing could be heard but the rain that battered against the windows and the thundering of your own heartbeat in your ears. 

Dean tucked a strand of your wet hair behind your ear, “You’re the first one I thought of… The only one I wanted here.” 

A blush crept onto your cheeks and you shook your head fondly. “You’re fantastic at changing the subject.” 

Dean winked, but his smooth-talking was soon replaced by a painful scowl. 

“Let’s finish this up later, shall we? I’d rather not bleed to death.” 

You helped Dean back to the bed and prepared to finish stitching him up. You knew this was far from over – with Dean, it never was – but for now, you would focus on the rain that pattered against the roof and the relief that Dean was with you, safe. 

[scottiexmariee]

Ok so I've been loving all if the stuff you've been putting out so far, it's literally so good!!! My request is how the lads would react to you falling down the stairs and I'm talking like a long stream of stairs (totally not bc I fell down the stairs today while watching sylus edits hehehe)

First of all, omg, I am so sorry but I giggled. I hope you're okay!

Here you go, anon. I hope this is what you had in mind! Do me a favor and ban yourself from watching Sylus edits near stairs!!

How the boys would react to you falling down the stairs

Characters: Xavier x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Sylus x Reader Warnings: Stairs are your biggest op.

(little bit of falling, little bit of fluff. Lots of love for anon)

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.9k

☆ Man would be mortified.

☆ He turned his back for two seconds, next thing he knows you're takin a tumble

☆ Would most likely ban you from being near stairs by yourself again

☆ “You can take down wanderers, but lose a fight against stairs?” 

☆ Would let you lean on him for support the rest of the night (he knows it hurt)

The elevator to your shared apartment building had broken down. By the time the two of you had arrived home to find that out, it was 11pm, and far too late for maintenance to come out to fix it. You were stuck taking the stairs until maintenance arrived tomorrow morning.

Normally, this wouldn't be an issue. However, your day had been excruciatingly long, and the stairs were more of an obstacle and a hinderance than they should have been. Your body was sore, your legs felt like jelly, and you really hated stairs in general.

Xavier looked down at you, stifling a laugh at the exasperated expression on your face. "I could always just carry you," He offered, extending his hand.

Whether it was your pride or your stubbornness, you couldn't accept. "I'm fine," You insisted, although it sounded like you were reassuring yourself more than Xavier. "You're tired too. Go ahead, I'm right behind you," You would very quickly find out that your last statement aged like milk left out in the sun.

Xavier shot you one last skeptical glance before he turned and began walking up the stairs. You followed suit, doing a decent job until you stepped wrong and lost your balance. Your arms flailed, successfully grabbing on to nothing. The only audible indication that you were about to fall was the startled gasp that left your mouth, which caught Xavier's attention with just enough time left to helplessly watch you fall.

You stumbled backward, colliding with every single one of the 13 steps on your way down. Every single stair caused a painful shock and an even bigger dent to your ego.

Xavier was kneeling by your side in an instant.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice laced with concern. He helped you sit up, carefully eyeing you for any visible injuries. You were very sore, but luckily not seriously injured. At most, you'd likely be bruised in the morning.

You let out a huff of air, stifling a pained grunt in the process. "Well, that was embarrassing,"

Xavier stared at you, wide-eyed and looking like he was 3 seconds away from calling an ambulance.

"Xav. I'm alright," You insisted, twisting to lift yourself up.

Xavier intervened, quickly scooping you up before you could get to your feet.

"No," He said, shaking his head. "You're banned from stairs,"

With that, he began walking back up the stairs you'd just tumbled down. While you were nearly dying from the embarrassment, Xavier actually didn't mind carrying you. In fact, he'd rather carry you up and down every flight of stairs you encountered for the rest of your life if it meant he wouldn't witness another fall like that again.

Once you were safely at the top, he gently set you down outside of your apartment, making sure to keep hold of you in case you were unsteady on your feet.

"I can stand," You assured him. You were still heavily embarrassed, but ultimately thankful that he was so sweet.

He kept an arm on you until your door was unlocked.

"Is it too soon to say you should have accepted my offer the first time?"

You shot him a glare, although it lacked any real heat.

"I think I should stick around for the night, just in case you happen to encounter anymore stairs,"

❅ Professional Zayne mode engaged immediately

❅ Depending on how bad the fall was, you're getting a full body exam before you're even allowed off the floor

❅ and that's not it, either

❅ You think you might bruise? Cold Compress. 15 Minutes. Now.

❅ Man will be stressed for the rest of his life any time you're in the same vicinity as a single stair

Zayne had lost track of the amount of times he'd warned you to be slower coming down the stairs. Every single time you came down them, two at a time and at a speed that was less than acceptable, he'd get heart palpitations, convinced that this was the time you were going to fall.

It was coming, and he knew it. He warned you. You, however, tore through the house like a woman on a mission. You had a habit of learning the hard way, and you're simply too prideful to take his warnings seriously.

Until about 30 seconds ago.

You don't even remember what you were going to tell him. You'd been upstairs, he'd been downstairs. You raced down the stairs, coming in hot, and somehow miscalculated a step about halfway down.

That fall that Zayne had warned you about numerous times was finally a reality, and damn it was painful.

Zayne, from the kitchen, heard what sounded suspiciously like a body bouncing off the stairs and immediately stopped what he was doing to come check on you.

He rounded the corner, and there you were in all your glory: dazed, disoriented, and sore with a bloody lip serving as the cherry on top.

"Don't move," He said gently, kneeling at your side. With well trained eyes, he began looking you over. "Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere," You groaned. It was true. 30 seconds ago you were having the time of your life, and now you felt like you'd been hit by a semi truck.

The next 10 minutes consisted of Zayne thoroughly checking every limb, asking you to answer various questions ("what day is it? What year is it? Time? Count backwards from 10. What comes after W?") and forcibly holding an icepack to your lip.

He ended up carrying you to the couch, gently laying you down so he could continue what he was doing while simultaneously babysitting you.

He did not hit you with an "I told you so,"

Not yet, anyway.

However, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't looking for a house that didn't have stairs.

❀ He'd hear it from the other room and think a tree fell on his studio or something

❀ "Is it storming? I swear I heard thunder,"

❀ He'd make sure you were okay, but he's definitely teasing you about it later

❀ "I'm looking for a new bodyguard. Mine can't even handle a staircase,"

❀ definitely makes a moment post later on

❀ ^ "thought it was storming earlier. turns out it was just (Y/N) getting in a fight with stairs and losing. 10/10 ambience though,"

❀ on a separate occasion, I can see you both falling at the same time and blaming each other for it

While Rafayel was occupied with his current project, boredom had gotten the best of you. You began exploring the studio, surprised to find a set of stairs that you hadn't noticed before. Upon further inspection, they lead to an attic.

Curiosity killed the cat, so they say. You couldn't help yourself.

Was Rafayel an attic man? What sorts of trinkets did he stash up there? The questions were burning too hot to go unanswered.

Unfortunately, it was mostly old paint supplies and boxes of random decorations that had been retired. You were left a little unsatisfied, but you had gotten an answer.

As you began to retreat, you realized the stairs felt a lot steeper than they did on the way up.

It didn't take long for you to lose your footing. The sounds that filled the air were a symphony of thuds and curses.

After laying on the ground for a few minutes, trying to recover, you opened your eyes to see Rafayel standing above you.

"You good?" He asked, kneeling down. "I kinda thought you died,"

"I'm not good, but I'm not dead."

He gently checked you over and then extended a hand to help you up.

"I think you should stay away from stairs," He drawled, leading you toward the couch. "and I also think you should sit here and recover from that,"

You plopped on the couch, too tired to protest.

Rafayel studied you for a moment longer, wanting to make sure you were truly alright before he began the teasing. It was his way of lightening the mood. "Are you sure you're alright?"

You reassured him that yes, you were alright. He sat next to you, casually tossing an arm around your shoulders.

"Good, because we need to talk about your Bodyguard skills. You need training or something. You just lost a fight to some stairs,"

⟡ He was never worried about you around stairs before

⟡ but he's absolutely having remodeling done within the next 24 hours now

⟡ you are getting absolutely BABIED by this man the second he comes to your aid

⟡ You're not even lifting a fork, sweetie

⟡ You're getting tossed over his shoulder and carried like a sack of potatoes if stairs can't be avoided in the future

⟡ You're not going to get hurt again if he can help it

At times, Sylus thought it was cute when you shut your brain off around him. He knew that it meant you felt safe, and it filled him with warmth whenever he stopped to think about it.

He'd place a tactical hand over the corner of the table when you bent down to pick something up, just in case you bumped your head again, you'd hit his hand instead of the corner.

He'd gently guide you when you weren't paying attention to where you were walking, too engrossed in your conversation to look for obstacles.

You really only did it when you two were at the base. Sylus didn't mind, though. In fact, it was almost endearing, the way you were comfortable enough to turn off your spatial awareness.

He couldn't always be around to steer you away from obstacles, though.

And you, unfortunately, had a habit of walking around while looking at your phone instead of where your feet were going.

You'd done it again today. But this time, it had caused a problem.

You were walking down the stairs to get a drink, completely fixated on a video you were watching, not a single worry in the world about the steps. Sylus had chided you for it before, but it had never been an issue....until now.

You stepped too far forward and immediately ate shit the rest of the way down the stairs. Your phone clattered to the floor, ending up several feet away. Mephisto witnessed the entire thing and had the nerve to squawk at you.

To add insult to injury, Sylus just so happened to be rounding the corner just in time to see your disheveled figure crumpled on the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

He was careful not to jostle you when he knelt down.

"Can you move?"

You wiggled your fingers, your toes. Flexed your wrist, rotated your arms. Despite the horrendous pain in your side, you could still move. You answered his question with a nod.

He picked you up as gently as he could, holding you princess style with both arms, being extra careful.

"Were you on your phone?" He asked, already eyeing the evidence on the floor. The screen was shattered, but the sound of the video you'd been watching was still coming through the speakers. He'd warned you about walking distracted before, but was usually there to be a hero. Not this time.

"Maybe,"

He refused to get more than three feet away from you for the next several hours, constantly offering to get you various things you may need. Water? He's on it. A snack? You bet. Heating pad? Consider it done.

If you had known that accidentally falling down the stairs would cause Sylus to get all soft and cradle you like you were made of glass for the next few hours, you'd have fallen on purpose a lot sooner.

[lvlyghost]

Remnants

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: You got hurt and Simon finds out.

WORD COUNT: 1.0k

TW: bruises, slight angst. reader missing simon. also fluff think that's it. lmk if i missed any. also poorly edited and not proofread. mind the english!🤭✨🤍

A/N: this is so self indulgent. embarrassing how much time it took to get out because i've had this idea for two weeks now. anyway enjoy!💛

Masterlist✨

Laying in bed until it was late was part of your daily routine when Simon was off on deployment. Too tired to even get up when he wasn't around to wake you at 7:00 a.m.

He was a morning person unlike you.

You remember the days he would drag you against him by the waist mumbling something about being too late to be in bed, to which you had groggily bit back and slapped his arm in a playful manner. Then he would be gone for months, leaving nothing but an empty bed and the absence of his deep voice to fill your ears. Feeling that made your eyes well with tears and your heart ache. What if I don't see him again? What if that was the last time I ever felt his touch?

Shaking your head you pull yourself out of the comfort of your shared bed, taking a quick bath before preparing yourself a nice breakfast.

Winter is starting to settle in and your favorite thing to wear is his black hoodie. The one that swallows you entirely. It smells like him, it's almost like being embraced by him.

"Come on don't cry now." rubbing your eyes with the hem of the sleeves. Traitorous, salty droplets spilling down. "Jesus." Taking a deep breath you calm yourself and the ache gradually stops.

The kitchen is somewhat cold despite the heater turned on. You watch as the coffee brews —the one he dislikes— you smile again although small. Barely a quirk of your lips at the thought of him looking intently at you as you take a sip and offer him one.

'Bloody incorrigible.' He had muttered.

But you had seen him smiling that day as well, as different as you both were from one another, the love you two held couldn't be denied, nor broken.

That's why when the front door creaks open your eyes widen, legs moving faster than your brain can register. Socked feet dragging across the wooden floor nearly slipping. Simon stands stall, the door closing behind him as he lowers the black duffel bag on the floor.

"Are you really back?" Your lower lip trembles, the emotion too heavy to hold it back.

"Come here, love." You lunge forward, collapsing against his body. Simon's quick to catch you with strong arms holding you. Bodies pressed together. He can finally let himself breathe. The smell of your home, the smell of that awful coffee you love, the aroma of your shampoo and perfume that drives him absolutely crazy. He pulls his mask off and his mouth is soon against your soft lips. Oh how he missed you. He missed this, his girl softly caressing his face standing on your tiptoes. Simon grumbled, when he feels the air shift and you pull back, his brown eyes glimmer with devotion.

"Don't worry there's tea for you. Plenty. I made sure of that for when you returned." He inhales deeply, kissing you once again on the forehead. Taking his hand you lead him to the kitchen to serve both the breakfast you've been working on. "How are the boys?" You ask taking two mugs out of the top cabinet.

"A bit more scarred than before but they're good." He comes behind you lingering close —too close— to your back. "Price wants a reunion. Told him I'd let you decide."

"You already know I'll say yes." He hums watching you pour some water in the kettle and waiting for it to boil. "Black or chamomile?"

"Black." You try to move around as much as you can with him caging you from behind. Giggling when he once again kisses you on the temple. "Alright, let me see you again..."

Simon grabs you by the forearm it's not hard, it's gentle but firm. Firm enough to hurt your neglected limb. You shriek, a loud 'no' leaves your lips as you stumble back and away from him, soothing the place where he had touched you. It hurt so much but you quickly regret your reaction knowing it'd spark something within him.

Simon's eyes go wide, then his brows furrow so hard you can see the small line that could leave a permanent mark on his forehead.

"What was that?" He growled. The distance you put between you and him is cut off by his long strides.

"It's nothing, I- I swear." You trail off, searching for an explanation. But he's smart and he won't let this pass.

Few things could make him lose his temper, you lying about your wellbeing was one of the top on the list.

"Show me." He demands and the way his eyes pierce through every part of you leaves no room for discussion.

Rolling up your sleeves you hold out your forearms. Simon's jaw clenches so hard you're certain he's cracked some of his teeth. Eyes set on your damaged limb; red and purple bruises on your skin. They're so fucking big and he has to remember how to breathe and control his emotions. "How?" His eyes shot back to yours, awaiting.

"I promise it's not what you're thinking Simon."

"Don't give me that. I asked you a question." he takes one of them careful not to press too hard as he brushes his thumb over one of them. Fucking hell. It's swollen.

"Just work Simon. I had to carry big boxes and you know I'm not that strong, that's it. So stop thinking the worst, yeah?"

Sighing he lets go of your arm, the anger slowly ebbs and he feels fucking tired. He thought the worst. No one could blame him, it was in his DNA.

"Next time let me know beforehand, bloody hell love."

You give him a quick hug.

"I still might have to have a talk with your cunt boss."

You snort.

"No you won't." You declare, motioning for him to follow back. "Tea's ready."

Oh, but he would definitely pay him a visit.

[iarchmybaculaa]

18+!

Tags/warnings⚠️: Alcohol consumption, club setting, misunderstandings, angst if you squint, long haired Jungkook, Reader is a brat, angry Jungkook, unprotected sex (please do not practice that irl), rough sex, spitting!, breeding kink

Word count: 3.6k

🎧 : Sticky Rice-Lil Gnar, Reminder-The Weeknd, Party Monster- The Weeknd

For my loves: Tasara & @hobicakess 🩷

Beta’d by Shaq🫶🏾

A/N: I randomly found an edit in my gallery that inspired this whole thing. HEAVILY unedited bc I’m extremely sleep deprived rn so pls be nice!

Fic takes place about 4 years before "All mine" ! Enjoy?

Being married to Jungkook has single-handedly disproved every doubtful remark you've heard from everyone trying to convince you that it would be ill-advised to get married so young.

Contrary to what you've been told, the spark between has not died. In fact, you think that you find something new to love about Jungkook every day.

His love has never once not been intentional and gentle. You've never experienced being with someone who is so in tune with your body, with your mind, with your soul. Jungkook sees loving you as a competition; his only rival being his past selves.

There is no adventure that Jungkook would want to experience without you. There’s no bridge he wants to cross without holding your hand; no dance he wants to do without you beside him….or rather bent over in front of him as you are now.

The low lights of club Euphoria had switched to a dangerously deep shade of red, casting a sinful glow on your already ridiculously seductive face. Your eyes were low, whether it was from the few drinks you'd had earlier or the thick cloud of hookah smoke that floated around the club, Jungkook didn't know.

What he did know however, was that he had the most beautiful woman in the world throwing her ass back against him, in a dress so tiny that your cheeks were becoming more and more exposed as he thrust his hips forward to meet yours.

You move in sync with the music, your bodies in perfect harmony as the people around you become a blur. In that moment, it's just you and Jungkook. You and your husband.

You feel the cool air travel further up your legs as you dance. You reach behind you to pull your dress down, more out of habit than anything. You hear Jungkook groan as your hand ‘accidentally’ presses against his crotch, and you can't suppress the small giggle that escapes you.

It's a low sound, so realistically, Jungkook can't hear it that well over the near deafening music…But he sees the way your body shakes a bit. You shake the same way when you laugh at your own jokes or Jungkook's clumsiness; and he knows you well enough that he can practically hear the sound in his head.

Fuck he's in love with you.

He's so lucky to have you. He can't wait to live the rest of his life with you, to have a family with you, to take you home and fu-

His train of thought is cut off by the harsh vibration of his phone in the pocket of his slacks. He grabs your waist to stop your movements, and you stand upright. You raise a questioning brow at him.

“It's Namjoon hyung” he mouths, pointing to the phone at his ear.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. Namjoon had been on a work trip to London for the past few ( painfully long) weeks, and he still refuses to acknowledge the time difference. You two have grown to accept it, even if it means that he calls Jungkook at the most ridiculous (sometimes inconvenient) times.

The crackle of the receiver lets Jungkook know that Namjoon is talking, but he can’t make out a word he’s saying. Jungkook quickly realizes that he couldn't possibly have this conversation inside the club, so he gestures towards the door.

“I'm going to take this outside,” he says with his lips pressed up to your ear. “Do you want to come with me? Or will you be okay ‘till I get back?”

“I'm a big girl!” You pout up at him, pushing his glasses further up his nose with your pointer finger . “I’ll be fine, go take your call! Tell Joon I said hi.”

He nods and plants a quick kiss on the crook of your neck. He strokes the side of your face with his thumb and promises to be right back, before he turns on his heels. You watch as his head disappears into the crowd, leaving you standing alone and regrettably bored.

With Jungkook gone, you have nothing else to do since you two had come alone. You think standing around in a club like someone with a lost shadow would be incredibly lame. So you do what any unoccupied, married person in a club would do, you make your way to the bar to get a drink…or two.

By the time Jungkook gets back you're just a little tipsy.

You're not a stranger to alcohol per se, but unlike Jungkook who's been around enough liquor to know what blends would be good for you (strong enough to make you feel good, but not enough to make you lose your inhibitions); you don't know much (not enough if you ask him). You think of calling him, but your phone is in your purse… perched on jungkook’s shoulder.

So you do the most logical thing you can think of, and you order the prettiest sounding drink on the menu. Who can blame you?

You’re just a girl.

~

Two cups of Serendipity later, you're back in Jungkook's arms feeling absolutely giddy and incorrigibly horny.

The lights in the club are a dark blue now, and the music is even louder. Jungkook looks exactly the way he did when he left.

Sexy as all fuck.

Long hair tucked behind his hair on one side? Check.

Denim shirt? Check.

Tattoos? Double check.

Damn.

MINE! MINE! MINE!

You're not sure where he put his glasses, but you make a mental note to ask him before you leave. You do not need a repeat of the Geum putdwaeji Sikdang* incident. You know from experience that Jungkook and contacts don’t mix; and it would take over three weeks for them to get replaced…Not a fun time.

And right now? All you want to have is fun.

Jungkook’s mouth is moving, but your brain is moving too fast (or too slow) to read his lips and you can’t hear him. But his hands pull you toward him by the waist and you lean into his touch.

Your back is turned to his front as you move slowly against him the second you hear “she’s saying baby saenggakaji ma” float over the speakers.

Jungkook moves in sync with you as he always does, but his hands remain at your waist, almost rigid. His touch is shy and..Timid? His hands don’t trail up towards your breast, or towards your belly button. You find it odd, and downright ridiculous.

You grab his hands to take them upwards, and you’re instantly confused. There’s ink on both his hands? You pause.

When did Jungkook get a sleeve on both hands?

His lips brush faintly against your ear, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the absence of the cool metal of the rings that should be in his lip.

You don’t hear a thing except the erratic beating of your heart.

Then the inconceivable happens.

Jungkook stands in front of you, arms folded across his chest and eyes glaring at you through his glasses. The lights above you start flashing, and they bounce off his shiny, silver lip rings.

But if Jungkook is in front of you…who the fuck is behind you?!

You think you might faint.

As confused as you might have been about the situation, you knew two things for sure:

1. You needed to get as far away from not- Jungkook as possible

2. You're screwed.

Not-Jungkook seems to realize your mistake, and moves his hands from your waist so can step away from him; you rip yourself away from him as if his touch burns.

You open your mouth to say something to Real- Jungkook, but your brain goes blank.

You're too dunk for this.

Jungkook gives you a quick once- over to make sure that you're unharmed, before taking a gentle hold of your wrist. He tucks you behind him as he gives Non- Jungkook a piece of his mind.

The ringing in your ears has become so loud can't even hear the music anymore, much less their argument. Your brain feels like it's been doused in water, and you feel an unwarranted giggle making it's way up your throat. You swallow it down.

Now's not the time.

From what you can see, Real Jungkook and Not-Jungkook are having a very spirited conversation. Real Jungkook seems to be holding his composure quite well, until Not-Jungkook says something that causes his jaw to tick and his hands to form fists at his sides.

But instead of throwing a punch, Jungkook takes a deep breath and walks away, pulling you behind him.

Not- Jungkook waves at you.

You don't wave back.

Jungkook is silent as he leads you out of the club and towards your car. You say nothing as he opens the passenger door and watches as you sit inside.

“Do your feet hurt?” He asks

You shake your head at him. Still, he couches on his knees and unbuckles your heels, giving your calves a brief massage before he straps you into your seat. He closes your door and grabs a bottle of water from the back seat. He hands it to you as he settles behind the steering wheel.

“Drink.” He commands. His voice isn't necessarily angry but you can hear something bubbling beneath the surface. The restraint he's exercising is audible in his voice, and for some strange reason…it excites you.

He pulls out of the parking lot slowly, careful not to accelerate too fast so your water doesn't spill.

The fog around your brain is almost completely lifted by the time you've finished the bottle. Jungkook glances at you for a moment, and releases a satisfied hum when he sees the crumpled plastic in your lap.

He doesn't smile though.

His jaw is tense and his body is rigid in his seat. He isn't touching you and you don't like it.

“Jungkook,” you say, reaching over to touch his thigh

“Are you sure?”

You look at him confused. “Am I sure about what?’

“Are you sure I'm Jungkook?”

There it is.

You have the audacity to scoff at him.

“ Of course I'm sure it's you Jungkook. Don't be ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?! You were literally grinding your ass all over some random dude you thought was me but I'm being ridiculous?!”

Your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. You know that Jungkook has all right to be upset, fuck you're upset at yourself for making such a terrible mistake. Jungkook has all right to reprimand you, but your mouth just won't cooperate with your brain. All the brat inside you heard, was Jungkook rubbing in something that you were already very embarrassed and flustered about and it just didn't seem fair.

If you thought about it…This was all Jungkook's fault really!

“ Well it's not my fault that you look like every other Korean dude with a perm!!”

The car comes to an abrupt stop as Jungkook slams the breaks.

“Excuse me?”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms at your chest. Jungkook’s eyes flick down to where your tits are bulging, but only for a moment of course.

“Stuttering is your thing Jungkook. You heard me.”

“You’ve actually lost your fucking mind.” Jungkook marvels at you, completely in disbelief at your misplaced attitude.

“I should have bent you over my lap and spanked your ass raw in that fucking club for everyone to see… But I let you off so easy, because I knew you made the mistake because you were drunk; and this is the thanks I get?”

“No.” You quip, “I’m not thanking you in any way.”

The tension between you is as thick as it was during the first 3 months of you two flirting with each other. You were both in college, desperately holding on to the title of “study partners ” even though you kept finding yourselves in compromising positions.

You were both playing a timeless game of cat and mouse. A metaphorical tug of war. Jungkook would push and you would pull; now it appeared that you were having a rematch.

He sucks the pierced side of his lip into his mouth.

You want him so bad.

Jungkook’s eye twitches.

“You’re asking for it, you know that?” He asks, face so close to yours that you can practically taste him on your tongue.

“Give it to me then.” You challenge.

Jungkook leans forwards, and you close your eyes in anticipation of a kiss.

But Jungkook doesn’t kiss you. Instead, he sinks his teeth deep into your neck, though not hard enough to break skin.

You moan at the sting, reveling in the way his soft tongue soothes his claim.

He pulls away and runs his thumb over your lip, eyes darkening.

“Did he kiss you?” He grits out.

You frantically shake your head no.

It's then that you realize just how bad this could have truly been for you. Jungkook was right. You were getting off easy.

Jungkook pries your mouth open.

“Tongue out.” he says.

You loll your tongue out and look up at him expectantly for what you know is coming. Jungkook looks directly into your eyes as he spits into your waiting mouth. You swallow without being told to; it's almost like a reflex.

Jungkook is pleased.

“Who does that taste like, baby?”

“Tastes like you,” you reply.

Jungkook hums.

He grabs your hand and brings it over to his lap. Your breath hitches when you feel the telltale rigidness of a boner in his jeans. Your heart skips a beat as you realize how painfully hard he is.

You need him.

“What does that feel like, baby? Hm? Does that feel like me? Or are you not sure?”

You whine as he rolls his hips up into your palm. “It feels like you Jungkook, I want it.”

Jungkook’s face contorts into one of mock contemplation.

You hate when he gets like this, when he pretends to consider giving you what you want when you both know it's not going to happen.

"You want to know what I think?" he muses rhetorically.

"I think I've let you get away with a little too much lately. I've always told you that your mouth is going to get you in trouble, but I've never made good on that promise, have I?" He chuckles darkly. "Maybe it's time I change that, hm?”

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest and you feel a shiver of anticipation zoom down your spine.

“Unzip me.”

Your body is in autopilot as you undo his zipper and lean forward to take him inside your mouth.

He pulls you backwards by your braids, and brings his hand around your throat.

“You're gonna take me in your mouth and you're going to keep it there until we get home.” He growls out at you

“No licking, no sucking, no moving. By the time we get home I'll be tattooed so deep in your fucking brain that you'll never mistake someone else for me ever again.” he bites out.

But in true Jungkook fashion he brushes his lips gently against yours, then he shoves his dick down your throat .

The ride home is filled with the obscene noises of you trying not to choke on Jungkook's cock.

Your eyes are watering and your nose burns from how hard you've been breathing through it. Your chest feels hollow and your jaw aches, but you're too fucked out to care.

Jungkook's cargo pants are thoroughly soaked from the way your saliva has dripped all over him. You're sure it's beginning to get uncomfortable for him to sit like this: cock hard and throbbing and in your warm, wet mouth. Yet, he sits perfectly still; unmoving.

His breaths come out in slow, controlled gasps, and it becomes exceedingly clear to you that It's taking as much effort from Jungkook not to snap his hips upwards and fuck your throat; as it is for you to not give him an actual blowjob.

The realization is absolutely riveting.

When Jungkook pulls into the driveway of your flat, he lifts your chin up , and his dick slides out of your mouth with a wet plop.

You both try to catch your breath, chests heaving and hearts thumping. Jungkook tucks himself back into his pants, and takes a deep breath before he gets out of the car.

Like the gentleman he is, he walks over to the passenger side of the car and holds your door open for you. But when you don't make any efforts to get up, he bends down and looks expectantly at you.

You pout at him and point to your feet.

You're barefoot. Of course.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, grabs you by the waist, and tosses you over his shoulder. You squirm a bit, and Jungkook promptly delivers a warning slap to your ass which settles you completely.

He opens the front door and kicks it shut behind him, waiting until he hears the security alarm activate before he moves towards your bedroom.

He tosses you on the bed and flicks the light on. Your chin is slicked with spit, you tits are spilling out of your dress, and the curly hair in your braids are sticky to the thin sheen of sweat on your face.

You look a mess.

A hot, beautiful mess that Jungkook made. His pride swells, along with another part of him.

Jungkook turns his back to you as he takes his shirt off.

“You know I love you right?,” he asks, putting his glasses on the nightstand. He tosses his shirt onto the ground and walks over to the bed. “You know that there's nothing in the world that could ever make me stop loving you?” He asks, now face to face with you as he strokes your chin.

‘I do,” you reply, your voice comes out more of a whine than you actually want it to.

“That's great baby, because this is going to feel like I fucking hate you.”

***

You both cry out when Jungkook finally slips inside you.

You've come to accept that no matter how many times you've taken him, how many times you will take him you'll never not be taken aback by the way his cock stretches you.

The lights are on, and so you can see Jungkook in all his glory. You can see way his biceps bulge and the way his abs tense. You the way his face contorts as your pussy practically suffocates him.

“ You like what you see baby?” He taunts, “had to make sure that you can actually see who's fucking you hm? Wouldn’t want you to make another mistake now would we?”

He spits the word out as if it pains him to say, and translates that pain into a vicious snap of his hips that has you lurching forward, clawing at his chest.

His thrusts are all the same. Carefully calculated and deliciously hard. His tips brush against your gspot with every fluid movement of his hips, and all you can do is whine and beg.

At one point Jungkook slows down to a torturous pace. Pulling out of you the moment he's just shy of your gspot. You can't handle being teased, you won't. You decide to up the ante.

“Jungkook,” you moan out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he grinds into you “please make me cum daddy”

Jungkook freezes and his hips stutter.

You've never called him that before.

For a moment you regret letting it slip out of your mouth. That's until you see the crazed look that comes into Jungkook's brown eyes.

He wraps his hand around your throat and starts pistoning his hips into you.

“Daddy huh?” He grits out as your juices start leaking down your thighs and unto the skin of his stomach “ is that what you want baby? Wanna make me a dad? Hm? Maybe that way people will keep their fucking hands off you huh?”

“Jungkook please!” You scream, tears pooling in your eyes from how desperately you want the sweet release you've been denied.

“You gonna let me put a baby in you princess? Gonna let me stake my claim on you for everyone to see?” He demands as he stills to a stop inside you.

“Fuck, Jungkook yes! Please I'll do anything you want just please!” You cry

Jungkook finally drives his cock upwards, it's curved head hitting your gspot at the perfect angle. Your orgasm rips through your body so violently that you sink your fingernails so deep into Jungkook's bicep that you break skin.

You cum in spurts, coating him in a thick sheen of your arousal. Jungkook cums with you, no longer being able to resist the pleasure that your body was bringing him.

Jungkook's cum spills out of him in a long, steady stream. You feel the warmth as it seeps inside you, and you clench around him reflexively, determined to keep all of it inside.

“You wanna have my babies so fucking bad.” Jungkook mumbles into your hair, voice hoarse and laced with fatigue.

And do, you mean to say, , though it never actually comes out of your mouth.

Instead, you hug jungkook to your chest, legs wrapped securely around his waist as sleep consumes you.

Fin.

[beelmons]

Luxury Reading Nights | SR

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

cw: fingering, free use, don quixote lines

Summary: Spencer calls you to provide some of your now rather popular services.

A/N: i missed spencer and i love free use!!

The most amazing part of the lifestyle you had chosen to lead was always the vast variety of men's sexual desires.

Some enjoyed getting a little rough, some dressing you in questionable outfits, some even were as far as to use you to serve them, all previously established, all with consent.

It was the wonder of 'free use', you were, at the end of the day, nothing but a tool. That's what made it so exciting.

But with Spencer, oh, Spencer, he was surely an odd one.

"Stop moving, I can't read" he ordered, his voice firm, but he was still polite about it.

He had you bent over his lap while he sat on the couch, your body was stripped naked the second you had entered the apartment. Your back was used as a book rest as he read.

His hand was the reason you were squirming so uncomfortably. You had been overstimulated for the past five minutes or so, and he kept torturing you, over and over.

It started with a call. He had a rough case and needed to unwind, which he often did with a good book. Soon, you were on his lap, kissing his lips and feeling his clothed groin against your wetness, and that's when it turned torturous.

No, he wasn't rough. Au contraire, he was extremely gentle. Annoyingly so. He began to massage your buttocks once you were across his lap, not once touching you where you were aching to have him inside.

"Ooh, I love this line" he suddenly blurted out "Too much sanity may be madness — and maddest of all: to see life as it is, and not as it should be." tilting his head, he tried to catch a glimpse of your face, womdering if you were as impressed by it as he was.

Little time did he give you, because his thumb began to run over your slit. It was slow and careful, like a caress.

You moaned in complaint. You needed more, so much more.

"You look beautiful like that." he praised, and it only heightened your arousal.

He went back to his book and his thumb kept up its pace, and it wasn't only when he reached half the book that, without warning, slid one of his fingers inside of you, while his thumb part-timed on your clit.

"I always thought Cervantes was a bit insane himself," he began to explain his theory "Takes a madman to write a madman." and without any further word, continued the assault on your cunt.

You couldn't speak from how delightful it felt. Despite reading a complex book, he was definitely paying attention to every movement of his hand, every crease of your insides, he was trying to find the one spot.

Minutes later he was kind enough to add another finger, this knuckles curling inside of you. But he was still going slow and that's when you figured: he was using your pussy as a stress ball. Not to your enjoyment but his, nonethless this was even more arousing.

His pace began to quicken as he turned on the pages, and you could tell he was reaching the end of the book, and you were reaching your limit. But it was on your terms and conditions that you only came when he said a certain word.

"...are even now tottering..." he had begun to recite near your ear what you assumed was the end of the book, but you weren't paying attention at all. You wanted to hear it. The word you needed the most as his fingers sped up their insertion. "...doubtless, doomed to fall forever." he continued.

There was something enchanting and sweet about his voice, as if he were telling you a lullaby.

"Farewell." he finally said.

Like thunder through the sky, a long moan resonated as you came. Knowing what he had done, his free hand quickly removed the book from your back. Old edition, he was not going to risk it getting soaked in your juices the same way his hand now was.

He continued to thrust, helping you get rid of the wave. "You okay?" he asked concernedly, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your naked back. "Sorry, I really wanted to finish the book." he apologized as he removed his fingers from inside of you.

You were still panting and flushed from the overstimulation, but you gave him a gentle nod "Are you feeling better?" you asked. You had noticed his tension since you arrived but decided to keep it quiet.

"I'm on cloud nine." he simply said with a handsome, gentle grin.

[imsilay]

LETHAL pt.2

NSFW! mdni +18, cw: stalker!König, obsessed König, masturbating, possessive behavior somnophilia, drugging (lmk if i forget anything)

word count: 1.1k

summary: he was picky and he picked you.

read first chapter here

EDIT: next chapter is posted here

art cr: Tava_tavatic on twt

His hands desperately pulling you close to his body. the way your curves matched his perfectly drive him mad. He bit down your lower lip, just to draw some reaction out of you. It worked perfectly when a soft little moan escaped from your lips unconsciously. His heart was about to burst out of his chest. Were you dreaming about him? Was that little noise you made was for him? Could you feel how he was getting turned on by just a little kiss?

He knew you wouldn’t wake up but he tipped his head back and swallowed thickly trying to be as quiet as possible. “What are you doing to me, Maus? This isn’t fair.” he licked his lips, eyes darkening when he tasted you on his lips again. It wasn’t fair that how much he wanted you, it wasn’t fair that how he had do fight with the voices in his head. They were screaming to possess you, to take you for himself and hide you from the whole word. He deserved you. He deserved only you. All that pain and suffering was just to met you. You were his prize.

He nuzzled his head into your neck bathing in your scent. His arousal was painful but relishing your scent was much important than his needs. And he had other plans. Now was the time for feeling your body and your intoxicating scent even if it made his cock painfully hard. You were vulnerable, yes. But he didn’t wanted to take advantage of the situation. Well maybe he could take a little advantage of it. His hands on your hips moved back to your waist. The perfect spot for him to wrap his big palms. You were soft, warm, cozy. You were his home.

He kissed the soft skin of your neck as his fingers caressed your waist. Suddenly you sighed and turned yourself on your back. Still asleep. His body froze and heart skipped a beat. One of his hand was between your body and your soft mattress, while the other on your belly. He sucked a sharp breath to stop himself from moaning. You were just perfect that every subtle moment of yours made him crazy. It was just that you laid on your back with his hands on you. That was what it seemed from outside. But in his sick mind you offered him your body with moving in a position that he planned to put you. Did you felt his presence in your sleep and decided to tease him with doing that? Were you really that cruel?

His cock twitched in his pants, his boxers already wet with precum dripping from his tip. He could no longer control himself. It was time for the main part of his plan. His hands moved to your back and unfastened your bra. When your breasts come to view his head spin. He saw them before to be honest. It was when he was lucky enough to catch your curtains open while you got dressed. You would hit him with a bat if you find out how many times he cum that day.

With shaky hands he started kneading them until you were moaning softly and your nipples hardening. He licked his lips and kissed one of them, eventually started sucking and moaning as he grounded against the mattress for any friction to ease his painfully hard cock. He showed the same attention to your other bud and caressed your waist while doing so. When he decided it was enough he reluctantly left your breasts.

He wasn’t looking at your face when he pulled down your shorts along with your panties. He let out a low groan when he saw your wet pussy. Waiting for him, all wet and ready. Even though he knew it was wrong and he shouldn't do it, he couldn't stand to see you like this and not take advantage of the situation. His hands left your body momentarily to undo the buckle of his belt, before he pulled down his pants along with his boxers. “Es tut mir leid, Maus. But i need that.” he mumbled and grabbed your panties, wet with your arousal.

He positioned himself between your legs, his gaze focused on your pussy, wet with arousal. His cock was huge, it was big even when he was soft making a small tent on his pants. He hissed when he saw how big he was for you. Your tight little cunt was just driving him crazy. Of course he wouldn’t fuck you now. It would be a waste. He wanted to fuck you when you’re conscious enough to scream his name as he fucked you dumb. He wanted to make sure everyone knows that you belong to him by making you scream his name, over and over until he is convinced.

He fisted his twitching cock and jerked off with your panties around his cock. “Scheiße, Maus.” he whimpered as he fucked his palm. He didn’t last long when you was this close to him and he had a perfect view of your pussy, he cum so hard, it wasn’t like any of his orgasm. He made sure to paint your cunt and belly with his cum. You had no idea how beautiful you looked when you were covered with his cum.

He was panting heavily and sweating after cumming that hard. Your panties also was covered with his cum. He put it on his pocket and grabbed the one he brought with himself. It was the same ones that he ruined. He had planned all of this. He pulled his phone out and snapped a photo of you covered in his cum before cleaning your body carefully with a wet towel. He could do it with his tongue as well but he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop if he did.

So here he is getting you all cleaned up and dressed just as you were before he arrived. There was no trace of the things he had done to you. When he was ready to leave he couldn’t help but kissing your delicious lips again. He was right. You tasted divine. He would come back tomorrow for the second phase of his plan.

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3

also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)

i’m in love with stalker König, that’s why i enjoy writing this so much.

[pedroscowgirl]

In safe hands

Aaron hotchner x (fem)reader

(could be read as gn reader but aaron calls reader princess if you're fine with that)

Masterlist

warnings: fluff /slight angst but also a lil suggestive! so minors dni, mentiones of surgery, reader is high on anesthesia, secret relationship, lmk if i forgot something

Summary: After undergoing surgery, you wake up to find Hotch by your side—and under the influence of anesthesia, you accidentally let some unfiltered, unholy thoughts slip

wc: 1.7k it's a small one srry

A/n: i was actually planning on writing some crazy naughty stuff but i couldn't bring myself to ruin the sweet moment so. Edit: this was an ask from a friend :))

The world was a haze of muted colors and soft lights as your eyes fluttered open. Everything felt… heavy, yet oddly light at the same time. The last thing you remembered was the searing pain, the sound of shouts around you, and the warmth of Aaron’s hand gripping yours as you were rushed into surgery. Your head was spinning, and the sterile smell of the hospital filled your senses, reminding you that you were safe now. But that comforting thought wasn’t fully real until your eyes found him.

Aaron was there, sitting at the edge of your bed, his normally composed face lined with worry. His dark eyes softened the moment he saw you stir, as though some enormous weight had just lifted off his shoulders. His hand moved, almost instinctively, reaching out just enough to brush against your blanket-covered arm. You knew he was keeping it subtle, keeping his usual public reserve, even though you longed for his touch to be closer. You didn’t mind. Just knowing he was there was enough.

“Aaron…” you murmured, his name slipping out in a breathy whisper, almost a plea. A sleepy, lopsided smile tugged at your lips as you raised your hand weakly, the gesture an open invitation. And he understood instantly. He moved forward, his hand enveloping yours with a tenderness that, even in your groggy state, sent warmth spreading through you.

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning close enough that his familiar scent, clean and comforting, washed over you. “Are you okay?” There was a hitch in his voice, and his gaze searched your face for any sign of lingering pain.

You felt a giggle bubble up, uncharacteristic but unstoppable under the heavy influence of the anesthesia. “Yes,” you said, your voice slurred but light with relief. “But gosh, I really am so horny for you right now.” The words tumbled out, raw and honest, before you even registered what you were saying. It was as if, in this dreamy, half-awake state, you couldn’t help but speak exactly what was on your mind.

And for a beat, the world felt perfect.

Then, as your senses sharpened, you became acutely aware of the quiet—unnaturally quiet. You blinked, focusing past Aaron, and that’s when you saw them. The entire BAU team stood around your bed, a collective look of utter shock written across their faces.

JJ’s mouth was slightly open, her eyes wide and sparkling with a mix of surprise and excitement. Beside her, Morgan was struggling—and failing—to hide a grin, while Garcia looked as though she’d just stumbled onto the juiciest secret of the decade. Reid was there, too, his head tilted in deep thought, clearly recalculating every recent interaction between you and Aaron. Emily was one of the first to piece things together, thanks to her observant nature and razor-sharp intuition, and her expression quickly shifted from mild surprise to amusement.

Embarrassment surged through you, but Aaron didn’t let go of your hand. His grip was steady, grounding, and as you looked up at him, his expression remained calm, even gently amused. You caught the faintest hint of a smile as he glanced down at you, his eyes crinkling at the edges in that rare, quiet way that he reserved just for you.

Morgan was the first to break the silence, clearing his throat and crossing his arms with a sly grin. “So… looks like there’s a little something we missed here?”

Your cheeks flushed, but Aaron gave your hand an encouraging squeeze, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your knuckles. He wasn’t going to leave you to face this alone. You took a deep breath, glancing at each member of your team, your family, before you spoke.

“Guess… the secret’s out,” you said, your voice still a bit wobbly from the anesthesia but carrying a hint of humor.

“Oh my God,” Garcia burst out, clapping her hands together with a gleeful little jump. “This is the best plot twist of all time! I knew something was going on! Didn’t I say something was going on?”

JJ let out a little laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “You two… Really?”

Aaron, ever composed, only smiled, his face calm as he finally addressed the team. “Yes,” he said simply, his deep voice carrying just a hint of pride. “We’ve… kept it quiet for a while.”

“Quiet?!” Garcia’s eyes were practically shining. “This is FBI-level stealth, boss man!”

Emily cleared her throat, causing everyone to pause and look her way. "Well, well, well," she said, her voice teasing but not unkind. "Hotch, I never would have pegged you for a rule-bender. But hey, I’m impressed.”

Reid, still analyzing the situation, gave a little nod, murmuring as he looked back and forth between you both, “I suppose that does explain the slight change in body language I’ve observed between you two over the last few months…”

Aaron raised an eyebrow, a subtle, almost playful challenge directed at Reid. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”

Reid’s cheeks turned pink, and he adjusted his glasses. “Well, um… no,” he replied, with a sheepish little smile.

Morgan crossed his arms and chuckled, nudging JJ with his elbow. “Man, Hotch, I never thought I’d see the day! But you know what? I’m happy for you both. Really.” His grin was genuine, the teasing look in his eyes replaced by one of warmth and respect.

With the laughter and light-hearted jabs filling the room, the awkwardness melted away. The anesthesia-induced embarrassment faded, replaced by a sense of belonging, of trust. This team—your family—was nothing but supportive, and you felt a profound sense of relief and gratitude that they knew now.

Finally, you turned back to Aaron, who had never let go of your hand through it all. His gaze was soft, a glint of humor still in his eyes as he leaned down just slightly, murmuring so only you could hear, “Guess we’ll have to get used to a little less privacy.”

You smiled up at him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I think I can live with that.”

“Alright,” he said, his voice as steady as ever, though a hint of relief softened his tone. “I think it’s time for everyone to let the patient get some rest.”

The team murmured their goodbyes, each leaving their own quirky remarks. JJ gave you a warm smile, mouthing “we’ll talk later,” while Garcia blew you a playful kiss, winking at you and Aaron as she left.

But Morgan lingered a little longer, crossing his arms and giving Aaron a mischievous grin. “Take it easy in here, Hotch,” he said with a laugh, then pointed a finger at him. “And behave, alright?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the anesthesia still making your giggles sound a bit loopy. Morgan winked at you before finally heading out, and with that, the room fell silent, leaving just you and Aaron.

The laughter faded, and the quiet settled around you both. Aaron still held your hand, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your palm. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, his gaze softened, his brow still creased with the worry he hadn’t quite shaken. He let out a long, shaky breath, his thumb pausing as he looked down at you.

“You scared me,” he admitted quietly, his voice a low murmur. “When I saw you go down…” His jaw tightened, and he closed his eyes for a moment, as if replaying that moment was too painful. “I felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

Your heart twisted at the vulnerability in his voice. You’d never seen him like this—Hotch, the stoic, unshakeable leader, allowing himself to show this depth of emotion. You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, your fingers weak but wanting to comfort him in any way you could.

“I’m right here, Aaron,” you said, your voice a little hoarse but filled with as much warmth as you could muster. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He looked back at you, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a small, relieved smile. Leaning down, he brushed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment as if grounding himself in the fact that you were safe and alive.

Then, unable to resist, he moved lower, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. It was tender, slow, filled with all the things he couldn’t say. When he finally pulled back, his hand still cradling yours, he looked at you with an expression so full of love and relief that it made your heart skip a beat.

You smiled up at him, feeling a little cheeky despite everything. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice soft but playful. “Now you need to fix it.”

Aaron’s brows rose slightly, and a hint of a smirk crossed his face as he realized exactly what you meant. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur. “When you’re better, I’ll treat you like the best pillow princess that you are.”

A laugh bubbled up, and you reached up to lightly tap his arm, both touched and amused. “You’d better keep that promise, Hotchner.”

He chuckled, his own tension easing a little as he looked at you, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “I don’t make promises lightly. You know that.”

And in that moment, as you lay there under his warm gaze, you felt the absolute certainty that you were cherished, protected, and loved in a way you never imagined.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added): @looking1016 @pear-1206 @doe-eyed-diva @ssa-aaronhotchner @sweetpinkchampagne @totallyjovialblaze @pastelpinkflowerlife @donttrustlove @actualdeemon @jencole214 @fandomawesomeness @devilslittlehelper @mrs-ssa-hotch @gamingfeline @rousethemouse

[venusbyline]

Reddish ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 11, oct.

— pairing: Emily Prentiss x girlfriend!reader x Jennifer "JJ" Jareau

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: threesome FFF

— summary: You and JJ accidentally woke up Emily during the night and both of you have to apologize to her properly.

— word count: 2.1k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 11th day, female!reader, Jemily!married couple, threesome (female/female/female), throuple, scissoring/tribadism, fingering, oral (female receiving), overstimulation, face-sitting, praise kink, light degradation, squirting, hair-pulling, finger sucking, nipple play, breast worship, butt worship, curse words, argument, safeword (no use), age gap (older women/younger woman), mommy kink, voyeurism, grumpy x sunshine x sunshine, canon divergence, Mistress!Prentiss, Mommy!JJ, dom!Prentiss, switch!JJ, sub!reader. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917

— crossposting: AO3

Emily was sleeping soundly after a stressful case. Her body tense under the covers, her sleep disturbed with random nightmares. Random victims. Random Unsubs. Anything that was bizarre enough for a BAU agent.

She was trying to hold on to her sleep despite the macabre dreams. Bad sleep was still better than nothing. A peaceful night was a gift she had not felt in a long time, and she did not plan on letting it go.

At least not until she heard the soft moans that sounded from the other bed in the hotel room.

Emily huffed, turning to her side and placing the pillow over her face with a failed attempt to remain focused on simply lying down and sleeping. She was not in the mood to listen to you and JJ having fun when she was so tense, when her body was disturbing her due so much stress.

As selfish as it was, Emily wanted the two of you to just shut up so she could go back to sleep, which was impossible when she started hearing the slick sounds of your pussy rubbing together with JJ's. "You guys are so fucking annoying, you know that?" The older agent grunted, gripping the pillow tighter, finding it increasingly impossible to muffle the sounds when the other two women seemed so focused on climaxing.

"S-sorry, Mistress..." You managed to whimper, feeling a little bad for waking Emily, but your hands remained on JJ's hips as the blonde spread her legs a little wider to have more flexibility to move herself.

Taking a deep breath, Emily removed the pillow from her face and turned to look at both of you, having a perfect view of JJ smirking to her while holding your leg open, her breasts bouncing as she moved. Emily could not observe you very clearly in that position, but she knew you were lying down and also naked, your hands grabbing JJ's hips and encouraging her to go faster. "You're being too soft on her. I bet she was the one who woke you up just because she couldn't sleep." Emily declared to JJ, who let out a little chuckle, knowing that her wife was right.

"Oh, you know our little girl... always so needy." JJ purred, stopping moving and watching your eyes widen at the break in expectation. You were so close to cum and she just denied you that out of nowhere.

"NO!" You sobbed, trying to rub against her but not being able to get it right underneath her. "Please, Mommy! Please!"

JJ reassured you, stroking the top of your head as she got off of you, your swollen and soaked pussy being quite a sight. She knew how much you needed that orgasm, but she also knew that annoying Emily was not very smart. "You already came once this night, little girl."

Emily rolled her eyes when you whimpered at JJ's argument. "A greedy whore." She grumbled, sitting on the bed and crossing her arms. "You're spoiling her too much. That's why she's like that. Always like a bitch in heat." She did not seem to mind when you lifted your head back, a sad pout on your reddened lips. "Don't give me that look. I was trying to sleep and you woke me up with your pathetic moans."

JJ watched the slight argument between his wife and their girlfriend with some amusement. The blonde stroked your hair for a moment longer before looking at Emily. "You're tense." She argued and Emily snorted, but remained silent, looking away at the room windows. "Now that you're awake, maybe we both should apologize to you for disturbing your sleep."

An excited look appeared on your face as Emily raised an eyebrow, considering the situation for a few seconds before sighing, patting the bed. "Okay, come here."

You got up from JJ's bed quickly, making the blonde laugh as you approached Emily's bed, your body naked, cheeks flushed and hair disheveled. Not even Emily could hide her smile as she caressed your face when you sat down in front of her.

You leaned closer to her hand, pouting sadly when she let go of your face and gestured for JJ to come closer, which her wife did without blinking. When the two of you were already sitting in front of Emily. She pulled JJ by her long hair, grabbing the blonde strands tightly and bringing her wife's lips to hers. You watched it all, rubbing your thighs together as Emily used her other hand to press JJ's breast, the soft skin squeezing and leaving a brief palm-shaped rosy mark.

When Emily left the blonde to look at her again, you let out a sigh when you saw the thread of saliva that connected their lips. "You ate her out." Emily tsked at JJ when she noticed your pussy's taste during the kiss, then turned to you. "Is that how you came the first time, little girl? With Jennifer's pretty lips on that greedy little pussy of yours?"

She said with a mocking tone and you nodded pathetically, opening your legs so the two women could get a view of your pussy, your own fingers beginning to trace circles on your clit to tease Emily further.

"Spoiled cunt..." She growled, hearing your giggle as she grabbed you by the hair too, before ordering. "I want you to eat me out while I taste Jennifer." She warned beforehand and you nodded in anticipation. You do not worry about the possibility of not cumming for the second time that night. You knew Emily too well to know that even if she was annoyed that you had disturbed her sleep, she was not going to deny you an extra orgasm. Emily Prentiss was not as heartless as she pretended to be.

You settled between her legs, pulling her pajama down, smirking at both the lack of panties and the sight of her dark pubic hair glistening with her arousal. Emily lay down and straightened up better, spreading her legs so you could be more comfortable, while JJ stayed next to her for a while, taking off Emily's shirt and kissing her lips for the second time.

You smiled when JJ's fingers connected with Emily's nipples, her breasts fuller than JJ's but with less pointed nipples. When Emily moaned as soon as JJ started caressing her soft mounds, you took that as good encouragement to begin your task. You left soft kisses on Emily's thighs, her skin shivering due the contrast of your mouth on her thigh and the rougher way JJ caressed her.

"Be a good girl and don't tease me..." Emily scolded you with a sigh, grabbing your hair once again so you could get closer to her already wet pussy.

"Did you get horny like that just listening to us scissoring?" You teased, earning a low growl from Emily and a giggle from JJ.

"Don't tease our Mistress." The blonde said, leaning down enough so she could take Emily's pink nipple into her mouth, licking it and looking at her with amused eyes as the older woman sighed with pleasure.

Your tongue teased Emily's wet folds, savoring the sweet taste of her juices that were dripping while JJ sucked Emily's breasts, her face buried there like a starving woman. You ran your lips through the dark hairs, licking up the drippings there before returning to the folds, now focusing on her clit. The little bud was already so swollen that Emily moaned loudly when your lips closed around it, sucking lightly. "Holy shit..." She arched her back upwards, growling when JJ took the opportunity to nibble on her sensitive breast. “You fucking whore.” Emily gripped JJ's long blonde hair, and you watched JJ's teasing actions weaken while you sucked Emily's clit.

"Sorry, Mistress." She whispered hushedly, her mouth now kissing Emily's collarbone apologetically, a more submissive version that only Emily could get out of her.

Instead of answer to her first, Emily turned to you, stroking your hair as you batted your eyelashes, your little mouth now reddish from sucking her clit. "Use your fingers, princess."

The soft pet name made you smile and nodded, resting your lips for a few moments and using your thumb to apply gentle circles there. Emily bit her lip, and played with your hair as if you were her loyal puppy. "Good girl..." She whispered, sticking her fingers inside your mouth so you could close your eyes and suck them for a few minutes, but without losing focus on your goal. With your thumb still rubbing her clit, you stuck two fingers inside Emily's hole, not daring to go gently, because you knew how much she liked rough sex.

"Damn, little girl... You're so good for me..." Emily moaned, looking at JJ with a little smirk. "Come here..."

JJ returned the smirk and adjusted herself into the necessary position, each of her legs on one side of Emily's head before slowly lowering herself down, a loud sigh escaping when Emily wasted no time and began licking her pink pussy, the nails painted red squeezing and scratching the blonde's breasts.

Unlike you, JJ had not cum yet, but her core was already wet and sensitive from rubbing against yours before Emily woke up. Despite not having reached any orgasm, JJ was stimulated enough that Emily's licks made her start to moan loudly, her hips riding faster, the tip of her wife's nose causing a delightful friction on her clit.

Without stopping the moves of two fingers inside Emily, you lowered yourself to taste her again, enjoying her moans muffled by JJ's pussy. It was quite a sight. From where you were positioned, you could see JJ sitting on Emily's face, her beautiful ass wiggling on top of the brunette.

You held yourself back from squeezing JJ's buttocks, and instead you chose to increase the speed of your hand, the fingering becoming so fast that Emily had to take her mouth off her wife's clit for a few seconds to moan loudly, her walls tightening your fingers before she cums hard while you sucked her bud too.

Not waiting for Emily to recover from her orgasm, you continued tasting her juices, just as JJ pulled her hair to bring her face back between her legs. Emily was a little bewildered by the situation. An orgasm by itself would not make her so exhausted, but she had only recently woken up, so her view was still blurry when she let you and JJ use her practically like a sex doll, the blonde rubbing her own pussy on Emily's face without much care and you fingerfucking her pussy and licked up her release that continued to flow.

Emily would definitely think about a severe punishment for you two later, but at that moment she allowed her girls to do whatever you want. When she noticed that JJ's moans were starting to get louder and her ride started to lose rhythm, Emily gently slapped you on the head, which left you a little confused at the moment, worried that she was trying to signal the safeword, but your fear went away when she raised one knee, the habitual position made you sigh in relief and you placed a soft kiss on her leg before fitting yourself there, your wet pussy meeting hers sensitive and almost sore.

You knew Emily was already very overstimulated, so your movements were gentler, rubbing against her gently and whining, one of your hands holding her hip and the other squeezing your own breasts. It did not take long for JJ to moan Emily's name and cum, squirting on her wife's face and making you cum right away after that view.

Just as you scissoring your clit against Emily's again to prolong your new recently reached orgasm, JJ also pushed her luck, rubbing her soaked pussy all over the brunette's face, panting and laying down next to her right after.

You sighed by the overstimulation and got off of Emily, seeing her cheeks flushed and wet from JJ's squirt and also seeing how reddish her pussy was now. You placed a soft kiss there that made her shiver. "That's enough, princess." JJ scolded you and stroked Emily's damp hair, making you pouted sadly, but nodding and lying down on Emily's other side.

"Thanks, Mommy. Thanks, Mistress." You whispered to both of them, placing a soft kiss on Emily's lips, which she responded with a weak tired smile. "You want me to draw us a bath?"

Emily slowly shook her head, stroking your hair. "Don't. Right now I just wanna rest and sleep next to my two favorite girls." She smiled at you and then at JJ, letting each of you settle in next to her, the smell of sex filling the hotel room, even though neither of you cared. JJ placed Emily's head on her own chest, caressing her black hair and you hugged the brunette's waist, head resting on her shoulder until the three of you fell asleep.

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[bunny-jpeg]

kink-o-ween - day eight

sergio perez - hate sex

cw: smut/pwp, hate sex, rivals au, mclaren driver!reader, rough sex, cow girl position, dirty talk/degrading language, bickering, hickies, breast play, mild choking

kink-o-ween: formula one edition - call of duty edition

toe to toe.

wheel to wheel.

lips to lips.

you were both the second fiddles on your respected teams, and while most were on the heels of norris and verstappen. you and perez had your own little, bitter rivalry.

"perez." you words bit as sergio invaded your space. your arms were crossed further as you looked at him. he almost had you backed into a corner. you weren't scared of that second rate red bull driver.

and he wasn't scared of mclaren's worst mistake. he looked at you, his dark eyes seemed to peer into the deepest parts of your soul. your expression became more sour as he said to you, "hello, little bird."

"you raced well." he said, "what a surprise. i expected worse heading into this weekend." he remained close, he wasn't letting up the space nor would he be scared by you.

you feigned an expression of shock as you replied, "oh, is the mighty checo giving little old me a compliment? did you hit your head?"

he made a face and leaned in closer, your gaze was squared with his. he replied, "it is possible. especially when you're did so good." he reached down and grabbed your ass, "when you're a good girl."

you frowned, "you shouldn't be calling women that, perez. you're like what, pushing fifty?" you raised an eyebrow at him and didn't even react to his hand on your ass. instead you pushed up further against him.

"you're a little old to be acting like a princesa. you're almost eighteen now. time to act like a big girl." you were in your mid-twenties, but sergio couldn't tell that by the way you stomped your foot.

but sergio thought it was endearing. and honestly couldn't get enough of you, even when you were a mocosa. he pulled you in as close as he could get, and kissed you on the lips.

you leaned into it, even though this could easily be a horrible violation. you held onto his shoulders and leaned into the kiss. when you eventually pulled away, you looked at him.

he admired the colour of your eyes and how aroused your gaze looked. he kissed you again and you held onto him tighter. in the quiet corners of the tracks.

"your room or mine?" you asked.

sergio kissed you again, his hand groped more of your ass as he laid his kisses on you. when he pulled away replied, "max will be out tonight, i'm sure you can guess why."

you held onto the front of the man's racing jacket, "you're a real pain in my side, perez."

he chuckled and replied, "i bet you do, little bird. i bet you want to kill me." then kissed you again.

in his hotel room, sergio was enough for a romantic to pour you some wine. but it was quickly forgotten in favor of you and him chewing one another out. your biting words were like yapping dogs. even when sergio's hands were up your blouse you still insulted him.

you two would buck against one another. and it would always lead to the same location. the bedroom. with your blouse and pants off and on the floor of the bedroom, sergio picked you up and got you down on the bed.

"you make me sick, perez." you snipped, "can't find a woman your age, so you have to go to someone younger? ugh, pathetic, old man." you groaned when he put his face between your breasts and bit at the tender skin. you tugged his dark hair as you arched your back against him.

"i make you sick? what about you, little bird." he rubbed his clothed cock up against against you, he kept you pinned under him and you squirmed a little. he worked to get your bra off and you did little to resist him getting it off of you.

"i make you sick, perez?" you bit, "you're a perverted old man." you were less than seven years younger than him. you clawed at his back while he continued to bite at your chest, it left ugly bruises across your breasts.

he looked up at you, dragged his stubble across the bites which made you nipple hard. your toes curled as he chuckled against your warmed skin, "you enjoy the attention. you like when i hate you." he kissed your jaw and kept you pinned down onto the bed.

"fuck you."

"no, no." he said as he got between your legs and rubbed the knee of his jeans up against your partially clothed pussy. he could almost feel your wetness between both layers of fabric.

he soon stripped you of your panties and marveled at the sight of your pretty nude body. he undid his belt, then grabbed you by on hand then the other till they were at your front. he then wrapped the belt around your arms to keep them in front of you up to your chest.

he admired your beauty, it was such a shame that you had such a mouth on you. you'd fair much better with the men if you just shut up and smiled. sergio thought you'd look perfect on your knees and quiet.

now you were simply bound onto his bed, pressed between him and the bed as he got the rest of his clothes off. it was a quick series of movements with little struggle.

"i'm going to fuckin' ruin you." you said as you squirmed against the belt around you. you leaned up to get in his face but, he simply grabbed your face roughly into a kiss.

the kiss was searing and left you hot all over. you moaned against it and struggled more. he pressed his weight further against you, as he slotted himself between your legs. his cock up against your pussy. he rubbed himself against it a few times which made you shudder.

"not if i ruin you first." he said, "make you perfect for me." his voice was a low purr and it made you shudder, paired with the weight of his cock against you.

"in your dreams, checo. how about you try that trick on someone dumber." then you winced as you felt his cock push into you. he then planted his hands on either side of you.

"you will be dumber when i'm done with you. maybe i'll try then." then rocked against you. you kicked out your legs a little as he thrusted into you. he kept his gaze on you, you felt warmed under his attention and it made you heart beat in your ears.

he pulled you in for another messy kiss. you whined against him and struggled against the belt. you wanted to claw up his back, make him embarrassed for the weekend.

"you look better like this." he said, "under me. i don't know why you're wasting someone else's chance at greatness. was your team so desperate for someone they picked you. the worst of the grid." his words were biting.

you made a face at him, "oh yeah? how does it feel to be in a shadow of a man almost ten years younger than you? a fuckin' baby face. your red bulls' test dummy. the guy who makes max verstappen look good." your voice got a little tighter as his pace picked up.

"yeah? well at least i didn't need to suck dick to get where i am. i worked hard, you just became a whore." then the two of you heavily made out once more. you two were hate fucking. it wasn't sex, it wasn't even fucking. it was hating with a mutual assured destruction.

but yet, you couldn't get enough of one another. with the blood in your ears, you felt a similar high to be on the track. except instead of cars, sergio was fucking you into the sheets.

"i'm a whore?" you snapped, "you are the biggest whore i've ever seen. you'd happily kiss max's balls if it meant that you'd get another pathetic season trailing in the back of the grid. you're a dog they should've put down years ago."

that got sergio going, he fucked into you harder. he watched you struggle more against your binds and licked his lips are the sound of your pathetic noises.

were so cocky on the grid, where was all that bite now? instead you were taking his cock perfectly. you were laid under him, bound by his expensive leather belt while he fucked you roughly. you were going to be littered with bruises come morning as he rutted into you.

he grabbed you by the throat and said, "you're pretty when you're quiet. you have the loudest mouth on the grid. you bark like an animal, but you can't back it up with any wins. you are the weakest excuse for a driver i've ever seen."

you wanted to bite his hand, you wanted to kick and bite him. but the pleasure was in your brain and made everything feel hazy. his words bled into your blood and made you more aroused. you hated him, you hard sergio. but yet, he left your body yearning for more.

"if i'm the most pathetic, then you haven't looked into a mirror for a while. red bull only kept you because you make their golden boy shine even brighter." you groaned and clenched your fists as you felt the thrum of pleasure in your blood.

you knew you were close, your legs kicked out a little more as you arched your back. you clenched your fists once more as he continued to fuck you. his cock hit against all the right places, you gasped and whines.

sergio basked in it, the knowledge that he made you feel this way. that no matter how many times you snapped your jaw at him. you'd always become so submissive in the bedroom. he watched you com apart, you arched your back further against sergio.

his kisses continued as he fucked you through your orgasm. it was hot and managed to keep you quiet enough as he continued to bully your cervix. when you relaxed post-orgasm, you became much more agreeable.

he continued to work your body, "see, this is how i like you. why do you bother being a driver when you can ride me all night." his words were biting and left a shiver through you as he continued to fuck you.

you groaned as he continued to move against you. with a few more thrusts of his hips, he pushed his cock as deep as he could inside of you. he finished inside of you and watched your body arch against him. you were divine under him, especially when his brain was full of the after feelings of pleasure.

"fuck, sergio." you panted as he undid your arms. freeing them from the belt. you grabbed him and pulled the man into a searing kiss. he melted into you, "jesus christ."

"see, you can be good." he said as he laid beside you and you wrapped your leg over his hip. the two of you kissed some more, for now you'd two would be a little bit agreeable for a short while. he kissed at your temple as you laid next to him, "my little bird."

his little rival. <3

[skz-bee123]

Telling Skz your ex texted you

Stray Kids reaction

A/N: So here's another reaction after a very long time. I hope it tuns out alright, I haven't gone through and edited it so if there's any mistakes, no there isn't. Jisung's one is again quite short, I don't know why this keeps happening to me but I find him very hard to write, hopefully a one-shot of him will make up for that (I've got a few ideas, I just need to write it out first). For Seungmin's part, the ending is a bit iffy but other then that, enjoy!

Word count: 5.2K

Bang Chan

"Hey babe?" You called out to your boyfriend who was in the kitchen getting himself a drink.

"Yeah?"

"My ex texted me, what should I text back?"

It goes silent for a couple moments before you call out to him again, "Channie?"

Loud footsteps make their way into the lounge and you see Chan, with a look of annoyance on his face as he makes his way over to you.

"What the fuck does he want?" Chan says as he stands in front of you.

"Just wanted to know if we could meet up." You respond.

Chan goes quiet and you wait for him to speak, watching him as you see his brain ticking over.

"He...wants to meet up?" Chan finally speaks.

You nod your head in confirmation.

"Hasn't that dickhead already put your through enough already? Why is he wanting to talk to you again?" Chan sits down next to you and grabs your hand. "I'm not going to be one of those boyfriends that tells you you can't go, because ultimately it's your choice. But...sweetheart...he put you through hell, he doesn't deserve to see you ever again."

Chan sighs before speaking again, "like I said, it's your choice. Either way I support you, I just personally think that you should ignore him, block him, just get rid of him."

You stay silent for a while before your phone dings again. You look down at it before pulling up the contact of your ex. You block him.

"I did it." You finally speak up.

"What did you do?" Chan asks, grabbing your hand.

You give Chan's hand a squeeze, "I blocked him, I don't know why I hadn't in the first place."

"It's alright baby, I get why you couldn't before."

"Yeah...but I've got you now so, I don't need him anymore."

"That's right, you've got me. And I'm not going anywhere."

Lee Minho

You had gotten a text from your ex.

You chewed on your bottom lip, making it raw and hurt as you agonised over what to do.

You knew you should just delete the messages that kept coming in but just couldn't work up the courage to do it.

You and your ex had not ended on good terms, he was borderline abusive and it took you awhile to work up the strength to leave him. When you finally did, you weren't the same person anymore.

You often got scared by loud shouting and raised hands always made you cower. Minho, you boyfriend of 7 months, knew all about this. He knew about the type of person your ex was and helped you break out of your shell again. He helped you become the person you once were before your ex took that away from you.

Despite all of this, Minho has never been a super protective boyfriend. He never really made a move to go out of his way to protect you, he's never actually really had the need to. Until now.

You were starting to feel anxiety making its way through your body, it clung to you in the most uncomfortable ways possible, squeezing the little bit of air out of your body.

You wanted to tell Minho, why? You weren't even sure yourself. To vent? For advice? To get him to deal with your ex? You don't know. All you know is that your shaking hands and fast-racing heart needed to be with him.

You make your way into your room where Minho was laying on your bed, watching his phone.

Minho looks up at your over the top of his phone before he goes back to watching. A few moments go by and you don't move from your spot in the doorway and Minho pauses his phone and places it down beside him, sitting up and looking over at you.

"Y/n-" Minho goes to say but is cut off from your phone ringing.

You look down and see your ex trying to call you. A sniffle escapes from you as tears well up in your eyes.

"I-" You try to get the words out but you're overcome with tears.

Minho stands up from the bed and makes his way over to you, he grabs your hands and pulls you over to the bed, sitting you both down. Minho gently wipes away your tears and looks at you with a concerned look on his face. "What happened?" He asks.

"My ex texted me." You whisper out, looking down at your hands.

A moment of silence passes before Minho speaks, "What did he say."

"That he wants to talk. He wants to meet up with me and apologise for how things were. he wants to see if we can work things out and get back together."

It goes quite between you two and you look up. Minho's face is blank as h stares off to the side, whatever he's thinking or feeling right now, you can't tell.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you with this." You mumble out.

Minho's face whips around to face you and he opens his mouth. Before he gets the chance to say something, he is once again cut off by your phone ringing.

You feel even more tears well up in your eyes as you see it's your ex trying to call you again. Before you even get the chance to decline the call, your phone is swiped out of your hands.

You watch as Minho answers the call and places it up towards his ear.

"This isn't Y/n." Minho says. There's a moment of silence before he speaks again. "Her fucking boyfriend dickhead."

You watch as a look of pure anger forms on Minho's face, "now you listen here you fucking piece of shit. You contact my girl one more time and I promise you that I'll find you and make your life a living hell. Do you understand me?"

Minho seems to be satisfied with himself as he ends the call, blocking the number of your ex. He throws your phone over to the side of the bed and runs a hand through his hair before looking at you.

"You're not a bother Y/n."

Hearing this confuses you, "huh?"

"Before that son of a bitch called, you said you didn't want to bother me with this. Y/n, you're not a bother to me."

"I just...I just didn't know what to do. You just never really seem to care about this stuff so I just assumed..." you trail off.

"I don't care?" Minho looks at you with a hurt look on his face, "you really think I don't care about you?"

"NO!" You quickly scramble to explain yourself. "I know you care about me but you just never really seem to care about you know...other guys...and like what sets me off and that. I'm sorry, I don's really know what I'm saying."

"Baby..." Minho starts, bringing his hand up to your face. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way because it's far from true."

"Huh?"

"Before you met the boys, I had a long talk with them. Of course I didn't tell them everything but a few basics. You know how they can get with new people they meet, they're loud and touchy. I didn't want them to overwhelm you so I told them to just watch themselves. Even now, sometimes I know that they can get a bit much so I step in. I step in and make up reasons to excuse us because I know you need to have some space but you're too scared to say anything."

"I'm always watching you baby. Always." Minho continues. "It kills me to know what you went through and i know that although you're doing so much better, somethings things set you back. And that's okay. But I know that these setbacks really affect you, so I watch you. I watch so that if you need me to step in, I will. I always will, baby."

"I'm sorry, I really didn't know." You say.

"It's alright baby. You mean to much to me and it hurts me to know you're upset."

You push Minho down onto his back and lay on top of him, putting your head underneath his head, snuggling into his chest. You feel his arms come up to wrap around you protectively as Minho places a kiss on the top of your head.

"I love you Min." You whisper out as your eyes fall close, exhausted from today's events.

"I love you too baby, so much more than you'll ever know."

Seo Changbin

It first happened when you were getting ready to go out for breakfast with your boyfriend, Changbin. You had just finished putting your coat on and was waiting for Changbin to come out of the bathroom so that you both could leave when you got the text.

At first you didn't quite know who it was from, simply thinking it was from a wrong number, so you just brushed it off, not giving it a second thought.

The second time it happened, you and Changbin were walking back from breakfast. It was this time that it clicked to you who exactly was texting you. Blocking the number, you thought that that would be it. Of course though, you were wrong.

All throughout the day you had been receiving text messages from you ex, some pleading for you to take him back, others threatening you for leaving. It left you with an uncomfortable feeling inside of you and you were not quite yourself.

You thought you had been quite good at keeping it to yourself, but your boyfriend, who had noticed right away that something was up, thought that you would come to him when or if you needed too.

But after going to entire day with you looking over your shoulder, Changbin was currently very worried. Worried enough that he decided that if you weren't going to say anything to him, he was going to have to make the first move.

You both were currently sitting down on a park bench, just watching the scenery, it was just reaching sunset.

"Baby?" Changbin calls out to you.

"Yeah?" You turn towards Changbin with a smile on your face.

"Something's been bothering you all day and I've been waiting for you to come to me about it but you haven't. I just don't like seeing you so uncomfortable."

"Nothing's wrong."

"You've been constantly checking your phone and looking over your shoulder, I'm worried baby."

You start to chew your bottom lip and Changbin notices this, he reaches a hand up and gently pulls your lip out from your teeth with his thumb. "None of that love, you'll just hurt yourself. Tell me what's wrong?"

You open your mouth to say something but suddenly your eyes widen as you look over Changbin's shoulder and you're squeezing his hand. Changbin looks over his shoulder and watches a man walk towards you both.

Not quite recognising him but at the same time feeling that this man is somehow familiar to him, Changbin still protectively moves in front of you and watches as the man stops in front of the both of your. He completely disregards Changbin and speak to you.

"Babe, I've been texting you all day. How come you haven't been texting me back huh?" The man speaks.

Changbin turns towards you and all he sees is fear written all over your face and that's enough for him to feel an immense amount of anger well up inside of him.

The man steps forward and reaches out to grab your hand but before he gets the chance Changbin grabs his wrist.

"I don't know who you think you are. But she is not your 'babe'. Changbin speaks with venom in his words and pushes the man's hand away.

The man turns towards Changbin with annoyance, lacing his voice as he speaks. "And who are you?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm Y/n's boyfriend. And you are?"

"Whatever, Y/n babe. Comeback to me, yeah? We can talk about it." The man, who Changbin now recognises as your ex, takes a step towards you and at this Changbin stands up, shoving the man away.

"You take one step closer to her and I swear to God you're going to regret it. Leave and don't contact her again, do you understand?" Despite being shorter than your ex, Changbin was bigger.

"I said. Do. You. Understand?" Changbin says putting emphasis on each individual word.

Your ex nods his head before turning away and walking off. It isn't until your ex is completely out of sight that Changbin sits back down and turns towards you. Noticing the silent tears rolling down your face, Changbin pulls you into a hug.

"We don't need to talk about it now. But I think we need to have a talk later, yeah?" Changbin mumbles into your hair.

You pull away from Changbin and start to apologise. "I'm-" but before you could even finish your sentence you're cut off by Changbin.

No, none of that. Let's just go back home, make some hot chocolate and cuddle while we watch movies, okay?"

You nod your head at him and he stands up, gently pulling you up with him. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Hwang Hyunjin

"Jinnie?"

You wait for an answer only to receive none. You sigh and make your way over to the bed where your boyfriend was wrapped up in the blankets.

"Jin?"

You see Hyunjin's eyes look at you before he turns around so his back is facing you. You sit down on the bed next to him and tug at the blankets. You feel a smile form on your face as you feel Hyunjin tug the blankets back from you.

"Baby."

"Oh am I still your baby huh? I thought you had replaced me." As Hyunjin says this he turns to look at you. Noticing the big smilie on your face he just pouts. "And now you're laughing at me."

You flop onto him, wrapping your arms and legs around Hyunjin. "I'm not laughing."

"On the inside you definitely are."

"Okay maybe that's true but it's only because you're so cute."

Hyunjin narrows his eyes at you suspiciously.

"Baby, you know that I love you right

and that me texting my ex, who I am completely over by the way, would never change that? Beside you, my love, are a lot more handsome.” 

Hyunjin sighs and a smile finally makes its way onto his face. “I know. But it definitely doesn’t pain me to hear it again from you.” 

You roll your eyes at him painfully. “Well if that’s what it takes to stop you from your dramatics, that I’ll tell you over and over again.” 

“Dramatics?” Hyunjin looks at you offended. “I am NOT dramatic.” 

“Jinnie, you are the definition of dramatic.” 

“You know what? For that, I’m not speaking to you again.” Hyunjin gently pushes you off him and rolls over so he’s facing away from you as your laughter sounds around the room.

Han Jisung

“You’ve been staring at your phone for a while, is everything alright?” 

You turn to look up at Jisung who had asked you that question, you smile at him softly before replying, “Yeah, Minjun texted me.” 

“Minjun, your ex?”

You nod your head before looking back down at your phone, replying to a text Minjun sent you. 

Some time passes and you’ve noticed that Jisung has been really quiet, you look up at him to see him staring off, a spaced out look on his face. 

“Ji?” You gently call out for Jisung. 

Jisung snaps out of the daze he was in and looks at you, “Yeah?” 

You move closer to where Jisung is sitting and grab his hand, rubbing your thumb over his. “You were staring into nothing, just wanting to make sure you were okay.” 

“You…your ex.” Jisung mumbles.

“What about him?” 

“How come you’re talking to him?” 

“Oh, you know how he ended up dating one of my friends after we broke up?” 

Jisung nods his head. 

“Well he wants to propose to her, just asking me for some advice on how to go about it.” 

“Oh.” You see Jisung visibly relax and you place your head on his shoulder, snuggling into him. 

“You don’t have to worry Ji, I would never leave you.” 

“I know, I guess I just got into my head a bit is all.” 

With the hand that’s holding Jisung’s, you bring it up to your lips, and place a kiss on his hand. “I know my love, that’s why I’m always here to bring you out of it when you get too far.”

You feel a kiss being placed on the top of your head as Jisung mumbles, ‘I love you’ into your hair. 

Lee Felix

You and your ex ended your relationship on good terms. At the time you both just realised that you weren’t right for each other and agreed that maybe being a couple just wasn’t good for you both.

Your ex ended up getting a promotion at work and had to go overseas for some time. You were extremely happy for him but ended up losing contact.

That’s why when your ex texted you out of the blue, you were surprised yes, but also happy. 

“What’s got you all happy, my love?” 

You looked over at Felix who walked into the living room where you were sitting on the couch. 

“Do you remember Minjun?”

This causes Felix to stop in his tracks. “Like..your ex Minjun?” 

You nod your head, “Mhm.”

“Yeah I do. What about him?” 

“He’s back in Seoul and asked if we could meet up.” 

“Oh.” 

You look up from your phone then and over to Felix.

“Lix.” You call out softly. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” Felix smiles at you, although you could tell it was forced. “Are you gonna…meet up with him?” 

“Probably, it would be nice to see how he’s doing.”

“Oh..that’s-that’s good then.” 

A bit confused, you slowly nod your head. “Uh yeah, it is. Are you sure everything is alright?” 

“Yeah, everything’s fine, really.” 

You stare at Felix for a moment before continuing on. “Well, Minjun is officially back to live in Seoul now. He’s worked his way up and is now extending his branch more.” 

“You certainly know a lot about Minjun.” 

“We’ve just been texting, trying to find time to catch up.” 

Felix goes really quiet then. You could tell something was bothering him but he just wouldn’t admit it. Getting a bit worried you sit closer to Felix and grab his hands. 

“Lix..what’s wrong? And don’t say it’s nothing, because it obviously is something.”

Felix doesn’t look at you as he speaks. “You and Minjun.” 

“What about us?” You asked, slightly confused.

“You both were very close.”

“We were.”

“And he’s a very handsome guy who is back and wants to meet up with you.” 

It suddenly clicks in your head what was up with Felix. Reaching over, you gently grab Felix’s face in your hands and turn his face to look at yours. “Lixie.” 

“Yeah?”

“I love you so much.” 

Felix eyes widen as you say those words, neither of you had spoken them outloud before, so this moment meant a lot. “You love me?” 

“I do.” You nod your head. “Very much, and some silly old ex isn’t going to change that okay?” 

“Even if he’s really handsome.” 

“In my eyes, no one is more handsome than you. And I will fight anyone who says otherwise.” 

Felix lets out a soft laugh, “I love you too.” 

You smile at Felix before leaning in and placing your head on his chest, closing your eyes. You feel Felix run his fingers through your hair as you feel him relax underneath you. 

“Don’t overthink it okay? I love you a lot and that won’t ever change.” You say, your words muffled from your face being stuffed in Felix’s chest. 

“I know my love and I love you a lot too.” Felix says before closing his eyes and falling asleep with you held tightly to his chest. 

Kim Seungmin

You and Seugmin were just chilling on your couch. He for once had a few days off and chose to spend it with you. It was silent between both you had, had been for the past couple of hours until you broke the silence.

You had been debating with yourself whether or not you should speak to Seungmin about this, but seeing as he was your boyfriend, you decided that you should. It would honestly make you feel better if you did. 

“Hey Minnie?” You finally speak up.

Seungmin just hums not looking up from his phone but letting you know that you had his attention. 

“My um…my ex texted me.” 

“Nice try Y/n.” 

You look at Seungmin confused. “Huh?” 

Seungmin, still not looking at you, answers “I’ve seen this over tik tok. I know you’ve been getting me good with your pranks but this time it’s not gonna work babe.” 

You go quiet for a bit, silently cursing yourself for all the pranks you’ve pulled on your boyfriend. But this time, it wasn’t a prank, your ex had actually texted you and it had left you feeling uncomfortable. 

Not quite knowing what to say you just turn into yourself, staring off into space. 

“Y/n?” 

You look over to Seungmin to see him watching you. “Hmm?” 

“Something’s wrong.” Seungmin doesn’t ask, he states.

You don’t say anything and this causes Seungmin to move closer towards you, grabbing your hand. 

“You weren’t pranking me were you?” Seungmin asks. “Your ex actually did text you.” 

You just nod your head and show him the text messages from your phone. You watch as a wave of anger washes over his face before turning towards you, locking your phone and throwing it gently towards the side. 

“I’m sorry.” You blurt. 

“What are you sorry for?” 

“For always pranking you, it’s not..I mean I just…I don’t know. I guess I thought they were funny but…” You say turning your face away from Seungmin but Seungmin’s fingers gently turn your face to look back at him. 

“They are funny. I might not show it, but the joy it gives you when you successfully prank me, makes me happy. And besides, all your pranks are completely harmless.”

“I guess so.” 

You watch as Seungmin sighs before he leans forward and places a small kiss on your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds. “Why don’t you let me deal with this douchebag of an ex and then we can talk about all the pranks I know you have planned for the members, I’m more than willing to be an accomplice.”

“Yeah?” 

“Oh yeah baby, the two of us together? The boys are not gonna know what’s hit them, and let’s just say, it’s gonna be amazing.” 

Yang Jeongin

Your ex texting you had been completely out of the blue. Your relationship had ended because of the fact that he was moving, needing to move countries because of work and you couldn’t because your own responsibilities kept you where you were. 

So your relationship ended on mutual terms. Over time, the two of you did end up losing contact with each other, simply because of time differences and the fact that you had found someone new. 

You had been at the boys practice, having finished work for the day, you decided to drop by and watch them. And although you and Jeongin weren’t heavy on the pda, it was obvious that Jeongin needed you there. Not saying it out loud but sending you a smile and a squeeze to your hand was all it took for you to stay longer than orginially planned. 

It was while the boys were dancing that you recieved the text from your ex. 

The conversation with your ex went as so:

Ex: Hey Y/n, haven't spoken for a long while now. I’m currently back in Seoul and was wondering if you wanted to meet up?”

You: Oh Minjun! How have you been? It’s been what, 3 years since you’ve last been back to Seoul?” 

Ex: Yea, it’s been awhile. But the company has been quite successful and they’ve made a branch here in Seoul, I was made to move with it, and oversee it all.

You: Wow, that’s amazing, I’m proud of you.

Ex: Thanks! So about that catch up? What do you say?

You: Yeah of course! Just let me know what you're free and we can sort something out.

You and your ex organise a time and date to meet, you're so engrossed in the conversation with your ex that you don’t even realise that the boys are on a break and that they’re currently trying to get your attention.

“Y/n!”

Your name being yelled causes you to look up and you notice all the boys, obviously taking a break have sat all around you and are looking at you. 

“Yeah?” You smile at them all before looking over at Jeongin who was calling your name.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past couple of minutes.” Jeongin says. 

“Oh sorry Innie, Minjun texted me and I’ve just been making plans with him.” You respond, grabbing Jeongin’s hand and bringing it onto your lap, showing him the messages between you and your ex. 

“How’s it going so far?” You turn to the boys as Jeongin reads through the messages. 

“It’s going, that’s all I can really say at the moment.” Chan speaks for the rest of the boys who all nod their heads. 

“Well I know you all will get there, I mean, you always do.” 

Jeongin hands you your phone back, not saying anything as you continue to talk with all the boys.

“Ok, I know we all noticed it but I’m gonna be the one to say it.” Jisung says, interrupting the conversation you were having with Felix. 

You turn to Jisung with a raised eyebrow, “noticed what?” 

“Jeongin.” Jisung points towards him. 

“What about him?” You asked confused.

“I’m not the only one right?” Jisung ignores your question and asks his own. 

The other members all nod their heads. You turn to look at Jeongin but don’t notice anything wrong with him. 

“What’s wrong with Jeongin?” You ask again. 

“Ever since you mentioned at Minjeon? Minjin? guy, and then letting Jeongin read the messages the obviously happened between you both, Jeongin’s had his jaw clenched and a far off look on his face.” Seungmin finally answers you. 

“Oh Minjun? He’s my ex, he just texted cause he wants to meet up.” You smile, completely oblivious. 

“Your ex? You ended on good terms then?” Chan asks. 

You nod your head. “Yeah, he had to move countries because of work but I couldn’t leave home because of school and work. So we both decided to break up. He’s currently back in Seoul, for the first time in 3 years, just texted me and asked if we could catch up.” 

“What else did you guys text about?” 

“Oh he just mentioned about going to the cafe where we had our first date, it ended up becoming one we went to all the time.” You smile at the memories. 

“He also called you pretty and that he couldn’t wait to see you in person. Said he missed you a lot.” Jeongin speaks for the first time. 

You turn towards him with a confused look. “He didn’t call me pretty but he did say that he missed me and wanted to catch up.” 

You look at all the other boys and notice them glancing at each other. “I’m sorry, have I done something wrong?” You ask nervously.

“No love, it’s just that, he was your first boyfriend right?” Chan smiles at you. 

You nod your head, “yeah, he was my first and then i’ve been with Jeongin ever since.” 

“Alright well, from what I’m getting here, your ex doesn’t have a new partner?” 

“Not that I know of. But we haven't spoken in a while, so maybe.” 

“Okay, so let’s say he doesn’t, and from the look on Jeongin’s face after he read the messages. Your ex was trying to flirt with you.” 

“What?!” You exclaim in shock. You quickly grab your phone and read through the messages, realising that it did indeed look like your ex was flirting with you. 

“Jeongin I…I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. I wasn’t flirting with him, I promise.” You quickly rush to explain. 

Jeongin doesn’t say anything, just clenches his jaw. With a nudge from Chan, Jeongin speaks. 

“No baby, it’s alright, I know you weren’t flirting with him. I was just jealous I guess.” Jeongin reaches over and brushes some hair away from your face, letting his hand rest on your face. 

You reach a hand up and grab Jeongin’s one that was resting on your face. You smile at him before speaking. “I can cancel my hang out with him if you want?”

“No baby, you don’t have to do that on my terms. I know you were looking forward to catching up with him.”

“Yeah, but you’re obviously uncomfortable about that and I would rather just not go.” 

“Why don’t you just text him and make it clear that you’ve got a boyfriend? You can still go and hang out with him, just as long as he knows you're taken.”

“Taken but the most amazing guy ever.” You grin, a toothy grin at Jeongin.

Jeongin laughs under his breath a little before leaning forward and placing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you," he mumbles into your head.

“I love you too.” 

Plus a little extra of the boys looking at your both with heart eyes. 

“Omg they’re so cute.” 

“I know right, like can you believe we raised him to be like this.” 

“Yeah and Y/n, what a cutie.”

“Ahh I just wanna squeeze their cheeks.” 

A slapping sound can be heard as Minho looks down at Felix, Jisung, Hyunjin and Changbin who were fangirling over the two of you. 

“They're obviously having a moment, leave them alone.” Chan says. 

“Exactly, Jeongin’s very private when it comes to his relationship with Y/n, let’s just leave them alone.” Seungmin says. 

“Awww, but they’re just so cute.” Felix whines. 

“Yeah! Even you all must admit that this is just so heartwarming to watch.” Jisung says. 

“Maybe it is, but let’s leave them to it alright boys.” Chan says as he rounds the pouting boys up and walks them out the door. 

As all the boys leave, Chan and Minho linger in the door, a soft smile on both their faces. 

“They are really cute though.” Chan says to Minho. “Makes me want to wrap them up and protect them both from the world.” 

“I know how you feel, come on your old man, let’s get these kids some food. Then we’ll bring some back for the two lovebirds.” Minho says with a small smile on his face as both he and Chan leave both you and Jeongin in the dance practice room to spend some time together. 

[nowoyas]

Trying to make sense of the Nanowrimo statement to the best of my abilities and fuck, man. It's hard.

It's hard because it seems to me that, first and foremost, the organization itself has forgotten the fucking point.

Nanowrimo was never about the words themselves. It was never about having fifty thousand marketable words to sell to publishing companies and then to the masses. It was a challenge, and it was hard, and it is hard, and it's supposed to be. The point is that it's hard. It's hard to sit down and carve out time and create a world and create characters and turn these things into a coherent plot with themes and emotional impact and an ending that's satisfying. It's hard to go back and make changes and edit those into something likable, something that feels worth reading. It's hard to find a beautifully-written scene in your document and have to make the decision that it's beautiful but it doesn't work in the broader context. It's fucking hard.

Writing and editing are skills. You build them and you hone them. Writing the way the challenge initially encouraged--don't listen to that voice in your head that's nitpicking every word on the page, put off the criticism for a later date, for now just let go and get your thoughts out--is even a different skill from writing in general. Some people don't particularly care about refining that skill to some end goal or another, and simply want to play. Some people sit down and try to improve and improve and improve because that is meaningful to them. Some are in a weird in-between where they don't really know what they want, and some have always liked the idea of writing and wanted a place to start. The challenge was a good place for this--sit down, put your butt in a chair, open a blank document, and by the end of the month, try to put fifty thousand words in that document.

How does it make you feel to try? Your wrists ache and you don't feel like any of the words were any good, but didn't you learn something about the process? Re-reading it, don't you think it sounds better if you swap these two sentences, if you replace this word, if you take out this comma? Maybe you didn't hit 50k words. Maybe you only wrote 10k. But isn't it cool, that you wrote ten thousand words? Doesn't it feel nice that you did something? We can try again. We can keep getting better, or just throwing ourselves into it for fun or whatever, and we can do it again and again.

I guess I don't completely know where I'm going with this post. If you've followed me or many tumblr users for any amount of time, you've probably already heard a thousand times about how generative AI hurts the environment so many of us have been so desperately trying to save, about how generative AI is again and again used to exploit big authors, little authors, up-and-coming authors, first time authors, people posting on Ao3 as a hobby, people self-publishing e-books on Amazon, traditionally published authors, and everyone in between. You've probably seen the statements from developers of these "tools", things like how being required to obtain permission for everything in the database used to train the language model would destroy the tool entirely. You've seen posts about new AI tools scraping Ao3 so they can make money off someone else's hobby and putting the legality of the site itself at risk. For an organization that used to dedicate itself to making writing more accessible for people and for creating a community of writers, Nanowrimo has spent the past several years systematically cracking that community to bits, and now, it's made an official statement claiming that the exploitation of writers in its community is okay, because otherwise, someone might find it too hard to complete a challenge that's meant to be hard to begin with.

I couldn't thank Nanowrimo enough for what it did for me when I started out. I don't know how to find community in the same way. But you can bet that I've deleted my account, and I'll be finding my own path forward without it. Thanks for the fucking memories, I guess.

[bamfkeeper]

Just some silly Nightcrawler thoughts~ 18+ minors dni under cut

Warnings: needy Kurt, a bit subby but changes at the end?? a lot of teasing, denial, begging and all that good stuff :) afab reader, i didn't take the time to edit this because it was just a silly thought lol

Wc: 1.4k

Sometimes I imagine how needy Kurt would be for you if you teased him a bunch. Like, teasing him all day around the mansion so his suit felt extra tight in the crotch. He had to sit awkwardly to hide his obvious problem he had and you just smirked at him because you know why he's sitting that way.

He's super whiny and he pokes you, trying to get you to come with him to another space because he needs to get rid of this thing between his legs.

Can you imagine he finally sits down on the bed after practically tearing off his uniform and his cock springs free, that pretty thing. It throbs, he whimpers as his head is puffy and purple, weeping warm, sticky beads.

"Bitte...bitte, do not tease me any further....I cannot handle it." he begs, his accent heavier as he cannot focus on words, but the incoming sensation you are going to give him. His poor lip trembles as you reach for him, your hand wrapping around his length and you gently stroke. However, a simple stroke isn't enough to satisfy the needy teleporter.

"Ah...." he whines in frustration, his head throbbed and leaked down his cock, his cheeks were such a pretty violet as he looked at you desperately. "Bitte..." he whined out again, more strained because he was yearning for your touch so badly. His hips bucked up slightly, trying to silently encourage MORE than what you were giving him.

"Shh, you are so cute like this, Kurt." you tease softly, your voice was so evenly set despite the situation, it made him whine again. His head hit the pillow and he stifled his noises by biting his lip. You could only grin, your index finger pressing the tip of his dick, finding that tiny slit where all those precious, pearlescent beads were leaking out. "I didn't expect you to be this desperate for attention..."

"Nein!" he whined, glaring down at you with a pout, "It is your fault...you have been teasing me all day..." he sat himself up on his elbows, his tail curls slightly as it lazily lays limp on the bed. "I beg you...do not make me suffer any longer." he tried to keep his voice steady, but that little tremble crept in and waved his voice off, letting you know just how much he was feeling.

His dick jumped, his lips parted slightly as he watched your finger make small circles along his puffy head. "Liebe!" his hands tightened around the sheets beside him, his face more flushed than ever now.

"You need to be patient, Kurt...I am taking my time with you. Now be good...lay back and let me play with you." your voice held such a promise, so honeyed and sweet, he couldn't help but listen. His bottom lip trembled as he focused on how tantalizingly slow your finger moves across the soft flesh of his tip.

You leaned down, his pretty cock was too good to resist for long. You placed a kiss on his head, letting your tongue come out and lick over it. The skin was so hot, he was clearly struggling with his needs. You could feel the blood flowing into his cock as you held it, pumping through the veins rapidly as his body demanded.

He had been teased all day, on the verge of tears, the poor thing. You couldn't keep him in this state, especially when he had been doing so well. So you suckled on his tip, letting your tongue swipe up and down along the tiny slit. You tasted his precum, not all that salty or bitter, mild enough for you to lap and lick at him without hesitation.

When you finally took him into your mouth, he couldn't help but let out a soft cry, the satisfaction of finally getting some stimulation after all your teasing was like heaven itself. He moaned and whimpered, shaking slightly on the bed. His tail twitched, the spade ticking back and forth as his chest rose and fell rapidly. He peeked his eyes open, looking down at you taking more of him in your mouth.

Your bobs started slow. You took your time to really suck him, your tongue cradling the underside of his cock and pressing harder as you neared his tip. You let out a soft moan around his dick, he shut his eyes and turned his head away from the delightfully sinful sight. "You are tuning me into a sinner, liebe..."

You pull off him, smiling and licking your lips, "You told me everyone is a sinner," you retorted playfully.

"J-Ja, but...nngh...you are infecting my mind with these...intense desires..." he looks back down at you and his tail had moved behind your head, gently pushing you back towards his dick.

"You act like you were fully innocent before we met." you complied to his gesture, but only for a moment as you took him into your mouth again. "Mmn...you taste delicious." you praise him and he whimpers and squirms even more while your mouth works wonders on him.

Imagine how he might beg, how he would tremble as he approaches his orgasm. Do you give it to him, do you deny him? Watch how his eyes widen and he tries to hold on tighter as he feels your mouth slide off his dick to deny his impending burst, and he cries out with frustration and denial.

"Nein!! Nein, why did you stop!?" he cries and falls back on the bed, his pitiful noises filled the room as did the musk of his arousal, his cock was so swollen...the buildups being denied were making him extra sensitive.

"I want to finish, bitte, don't stop next time..." he whined, his bottom lip pouting out. "Bitte, fräulein...I need to..."

Imagine rubbing yourself on him, your folds gently caressing his dick as you slicken him up further, he watches his tip peek out every little roll you give. He is so incredibly desperate by now, it takes all his strength not to give in and slam you down on him.

You listen to his beautiful noises, his whimpers and whines, his trembling begging as he tries desperately to control himself, but at this point of your relentless teasing he couldn't hold himself back. When you finally sink down on him, you gasp and moan as he stretches you and fills you to the brim.

He wants to drill up, but he stays put.

He wants to plant his feet into the mattress, grab your hips, and let his body take over, but he doesn't.

You began to bounce on him, skillfully bouncing and rolling your hips as he lets out more noises for you. "Ah, aah, liebe, you are...practically milking me, it feels so good..." he mewled, his hands grab your plush hips and he pants, meeting your bounces with the press of his own hips.

Imagine how he absolutely loses it when he gets close, you might slow your bounces but at this point, he can't take another denial. His fur bristles, his teeth bare slightly as he grabs onto you much tighter. "Nein, liebling, not this time..." he says in a quieter voice, he holds your body close, his tail wrapping around you and he does push up into you.

Those needs from before unleash and he begins to thrust upward, your bounces being met with his desperate bucking, grinding his cock deep inside you until it repeatedly kisses your cervix over and over again.

"I will finish...I will get my peak, and you will let me," he buried his nose into your neck, inhaling your scent as he continues to bring you down to meet his thrusts. "Ah, I'm close..." he mumbles, his lips sloppily kissing your neck and leaving hungry nips. You are helpless against his wonderful thrusts, it feels so incredible you can only hold onto him in return as he is driven by the extreme desires you gave him.

He pants and huffs hard against you, you can feel him throbbing and swelling inside as his orgasm rapidly approaches. "Need to...can I...bitte, Ich muss kommen..." he rasps, his movements falter as his hips thrust erratically.

"Come for me, my love, you can." you whisper encouragingly to him and he can't hold it back any longer. He bites down on your neck and he cries into your skin as he drives his cock as deep as possible, releasing hot, thick ropes of cum into your womb. He pulls back and thrusts a few more fast pumps into you as he rides out his orgasm.

You feel so full, he keeps pumping out cum and filling you until it seeps out around him. Imagine how he shudders as it drips down his balls and you continue to bounce on him.

Anyway. My thought turned into a big ramble. Thanks for reading lol.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[buckyandgeraltsupremacy]

remus x shy!reader

author: sj

warnings: fluff; reader is in hufflepuff; not edited lol

let me know if you want a part 2 cause i love writing for remus rn

masterlist

part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

---

you shared a lot of classes with the marauders. you weren’t even sure they knew your name. but even though you thought they didn’t know you, there was one marauder who always noticed you. remus could spot you in a crowd of one hundred. his eyes always searching for a yellow tie and your h/c hair. he thought you were so smart and always watched you take notes in every class admiring how focused you were on your studies. to be honest, that’s one of the reasons he always went to the library to study, he knew you’d be in there as well.

james had noticed this little thing remus had for you as early at 3rd year. he watched remus silently watch the hufflepuff girl with h/c hair. he didn’t try to intervene until they were older, still watching him pine over the same girl that had remus’ attention. he didn’t really know what to do so he told sirius and of course he knew exactly what to do.

you were sitting in potions after class had ended, classmates filtering out and gathering your things when someone came up to you and started talking to you. low and behold it was sirius.

“hey! i’m sirius” he said, shoving his hand towards you. you nodded, waking yourself out of shock that a marauder was introducing himself to you like they weren’t the talk of the school.

“y/n.” you replied, shaking his hand.

“great. my friend remus, you know remus right? tall, lanky, always holding a book, he’s sick and is always draining on and on about how smart you are so i thought i’d ask you for notes for him. id give him mine but i didn’t take any.” you cheeks turned red at the idea of them talking about you, much less remus thinking that you were smart.

“um. yeah. i can do that, let me copy them onto another piece of parchment and then you can take them to him.”

“perfect! come by the gryffindor common room anytime tonight and we’ll be there!”

when you finished up copying the notes that night, you stopped by the gryffindor common room to drop off the notes. you didn't have the password so knocking on the portrait would have to do. you stepped back and the door swung open to reveal sirius giving you and oddly big grin.

"come on in, love! so lovely of you to drop these notes off for poor remus." he ushered you inside and you stepped through looking around the room. you quickly found the rest of the marauders sitting by the fireplace, james, peter, and a tired looking remus. his eyes widened when you walked through the door, instantly shooting to james and peter and back to you.

"had a surprise for you remus. i know how much you love your notes, so i thought i'd ask for some from the master herself." sirius said, pushing you towards the group. your cheeks burned as you dug through your bag on you shoulder to find your copy of notes for him. you finally found them and took a few steps forward to remus who was sitting up straighter as you got closer.

"here you go. i just copied them from the notes that i took today. i hope they're good enough. i'm not sure what your normal style is that you're used to so i this helps." you said in a rush, looking down at your notes. you extended them towards the boy sitting by the fire. he reached for them.

"thank you so much y/n! you really didn't have to do this. did sirius make you any threats or force you do this?" he asked, lowering his voice slightly. you lightly laughed as a shocked sirius gasped and muttered some words you couldn't understand.

"no, no. i promise i did this of my own free will." you said, glancing up at his eyes. his smile reached his eyes once your eyes met and you instantly felt warm inside.

and so thats how your relationship started to form with the marauders. they soon started coming up to talk with you during classes and inviting you to sit with them at meals when they noticed you sitting by yourself.

your favorite though, was when you'd be in the library and remus would ask to sit at your table. he would work with you silently and you'd trade questions about homework back and forth, eventually even recommending books to each other.

you even got so close to them that the boys started including you in the teasing. one specific day, the boys found you and remus reading in the common room together. you were sitting on the ground in front of the coffee table and he was sitting behind you on the couch. the boys came in loud and instantly disrupted the calmness. sirius came bouding over to you and sat across the coffee table on the floor.

"i thought of one for you." he said, slapping his hands on the table. you jumped at the abrupt sound and leaned back on to remus' legs. the boys had been trying to figure out a good nickname for you so you could join their fun nicknames, but you weren't an anigmus like they were so there were lots of options but not of them really were fitting you quite right.

"what is it?" you asked, relaxing against remus' legs.

"flea. its perfect. you're small, quiet and annoying." you gasped and immediately sat up in protest.

"no! thats horrible i don't want to be called a flea, you git!" you exclaimed.

"but it just fits so well, flea. i can't deny how perfect it is for you." you started to protest, but a big hand stopped you. the hand, from remus, wrapped around your shoulder and guided you back to his legs, scooching you to between his legs and under him. his hands grabbed your shoulders and started to work there, massaging your tight shoulders.

"we're not calling her flea." remus insisted. you shivered and you hoped he thought it was from his hands and not his commanding voice. james then spoke up.

"what about hoppers?" you tilted your head and looked up at remus to hear his response, not protesting that one.

"she sure is as cute as a bunny and the size of one too. i vote yes." he said, looking down into your face. james nodded his head and sirius huffed.

"i still like flea better but hoppers will do when you don't annoy me, flea." sirius grumbled. you rolled your eyes and relaxed into remus' touch more, your eyes closing. unbeknownst to you, his small smile grew as he continued to massage your shoulders.

[felassan]

David Gaider on Alistair, under a cut for length:

"Ah, Alistair. Depending on who you ask, he's the adorable woobie with the biggest heart or the irritating, over-used man-child. Yes, he is indeed all of those things. Good characters have flaws to go with their virtues. Ugly spots. That is literally their humanity. He was a bit of a bear to write, at the outset. James (Ohlen, the first creative director on DAO) had this idea he needed to be a grizzled Warden veteran - older, distrusting. Everyone hated him instantly. I call this the Carth Onasi Problem, and suggested to James that maybe I try something else. My observation says that the characters who are generally liked the most are the supportive ones. Enthusiastic. Funny? Sometimes, sure, but that's *not* required. I need to digress. See, at the time James had this (regrettable) period where he believed everything could be derived from a formula. He even sold this idea to the founders, Ray and Greg. Google 'BioWare formula'. Anyway, how this relates is because James thought the DAO cast needed a Minsc: a comedy character who would become super popular and, ideally, the icon of DA. "Isn't that Alistair?" you ask. "Arguable," I say, "but no." James had me to up a huge list of 'comedic archetypes' and I wrote some possible dialogue for each one. Then he had the team vote. The winning archetype? The Buffoon - like Homer Simpson or Peter Griffin. James was pleased. I was not. "The problem," I said, "is I don't find the Buffoon funny." 😅"

""But you're a professional." "Sure, I *can* write him... but comedy isn't science. I need to find him funny. If I write him, the only comedy I'll mine is where he makes fun of himself." James took that on board and then passed the character onto someone else. The result? Oghren. I rest my case. So back to the supportive character: that was my thought for a new Alistair. It was a special case, after all - the DAO PC was thrust into a terrible situation. They needed someone who had their back. A bud. A *likeable* bud. I was watching Buffy at the time, and my thoughts drifted towards Xander. Now, I know Joss Whedon is persona non grata these days, but this was 2006, OK? I was watching Buffy and thought, "man, Xander is such a wasted character" and considered how to fix him. Then I realized this might work for Alistair. Plus, I wanted to see if I could replicate the Whedon vocal patter. That was the new Alistair: a more useful and likeable yet equally dorky version of Xander. We had very strict rules in DA about language: no modern speech styles, colloquialisms, any words that came into use in our world after 1900 got severe side eye... but Alistair? Alistair got a blanket pass. Was it great that the lead writer's leading man got to break the rules? I guess not, but it's my opinion that you can break those kinds of rules - selectively, in small doses. Too much and you break the illusion. And it worked. Alistair was an instant hit. Not just with the team, but with the fans."

"Confession time? Yes, I knew Goldanna wasn't meant to be Alistair's mother. But neither was Fiona, originally. I think fans caught wind of some revisionism at work, and OK it's true. I had a more Arthurian idea for his birth but I stopped liking it... yet not soon enough to go back and make edits. Should I have just left it be, left Goldanna as his mother? Maybe. It was one of those writer things I just couldn't let go of and I probably could have used someone to sit me down and go "Gaider, please. Just stop." I still like Fiona, and where I took it. But I probably shouldn't have gone there. Casting Alistair was SUCH a chore. He required a weird mix of devilish charm, but with enough sincerity and adorkableness it didn't come off as smarmy. Every audition went full smarm... until Steve Valentine up and appeared out of nowhere. In the midst of a batch of audition files, there he was. We brought Steve in "just to try out", and he pulled it off. Even the "frog time" line, which (seriously) nobody else could. And when he got to the romantic lines, Steve's voice turned into pure butter without, again, sliding into "oh, he's slightly creepy". Both Caroline and I were sold. And he was so gloriously easy to write. It's a well I'd probably return to... a bit too often, maybe? Maric, then Anders in Awakening, and then Alistair kept popping up in future games and the comics because, yes, he was pretty much the breakout comedy character of DA. Which still makes me happy. 😁 CORRECTION: Goldanna was someone Alistair thought was his *sister*, and her mother his mother. Look, it was almost twenty years ago, OK? 😅 --- I actually had a whole scene written in DAI where Fiona tells him, but the requirements were so specific for them both to be in Skyhold and it seemed like it'd be relevant only to a small small sub-section of fans (and confusing to everyone else) so it was dropped. Rightfully so, I guess."

[source thread]

User: "The Buffy vibes were strong in DAO and I was very happy with that at the time. What I loved about DAO was the mix of dark themes entwined with bits of levity. That's how I like my angst. Dark, broody with a side of ha-has and y'all delivered in DAO for sure." David Gaider: "That's a me thing. I like going dark - really dark - and then pairing it with light, comedic moments. It provides peaks and valleys in the tone, and prevents either from becoming overwhelming. Hey if it worked for Shakespeare (alas, poor Yorrick), it can work for DA, right? 😉" [source]