#Marcus pierce x you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theetherealbloom · 2 months

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TAKE ME DOWN TO LIFT ME HIGH

Summary: In the grand city of Rome, you, a senator's daughter, are entangled in a world far removed from your aristocratic upbringing. Your chance encounter with General Marcus Acacius, a renowned gladiator and war hero, changes your life forever.

Paring: Marcus Acacius x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, AU, PWP, Some Plot and more smut, ANGST, Fluff, SMUT, Fingering, PIV, Unprotected Sex, Exhibition Kink, Age-Gap, Ancient Rome, Canon Violence, Gladiators, Blood, Gore, Politics, Sexism (it’s ancient rome, babe), Sneaking Around, Forbidden Love, Loss of Virginity, Boobs,

Word Count: 6k

A/N: The amount of research I had to do for this was insane. I was more obsessed with Greek Mythology than Roman so I needed a refresher. Hehe, there’s not a lotttt of drama, but it leans more into the smut side and just cheesy over all plot lol and a little fun ceremony in the end. Everyone say thank you to @wheresarizona for listening to me go feral over Marcus. Go send her some love cause she deserves it :>

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

Song: Selene by NIKI

| Main Masterlist |

The return of General Marcus Acacius was an event of grand opulence. The streets of Rome were alive with screams and celebrations as he rode his golden chariot, smiling and waving at the throngs of admirers. It was as if the bloodshed and death that marked his victory were distant echoes, easily forgotten by the jubilant crowd.

"Long live General Marcus!" someone shouted.

"A true hero of Rome!" another voice rang out.

You weren't supposed to be in the crowd. Your place was at home, learning household chores such as cooking, cleaning, and weaving—the essential skills expected of a Roman matron. Yet, here you were, hidden beneath a hood, blending with the common folk as you watched the celebrated general parade down the street.

As the parade came to an end, you discreetly followed behind the procession, your eyes fixed on General Marcus Acacius. He was dressed in white and glittering gold, a stark contrast to his usual attire of blood-stained armor and weapons. Even though he was smiling and waving at the crowds, you could see the disdain in his eyes for such a grandiose display.

You had heard stories about him, rumors whispered amongst the noble families of Rome. They spoke of his ruthless acts on the battlefield, of his unwavering loyalty to Rome, and of his preferences. Yet here he was, parading through the streets in all his glory, hailed as a hero by everyone.

You couldn't help but feel drawn to him despite everything you had heard. There was something about him that intrigued you, something that made your heart race and your cheeks flush.

Your mind was filled with thoughts of General Marcus Acacius, wondering what kind of man he truly was beyond his reputation as a war hero.

As you stood there, trying to remain inconspicuous, your eyes met his. The connection was electric, almost as if the gods themselves had intervened. Marcus’s gaze was so intense that it seemed to pierce through the crowd and find you alone. He noted every feature of your face, his expression betraying a hint of fascination.

You felt your cheeks flush with heat and quickly looked away, breaking the eye contact. Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned and began to scurry home, the thrill of the encounter leaving you breathless.

Your pulse raced as you made your way through the bustling streets of Rome, trying to push aside the image of General Marcus Acacius's piercing gaze. You couldn't understand why you were so affected by a man you barely knew, but there was something about him that drew you in.

You managed to sneak back into your room, just barely slipping past the household guards. Being the daughter of a senator afforded you certain privileges, including an education that many girls your age could only dream of. Your studies typically included reading, writing, and arithmetic, equipping you with the skills necessary to manage a household and participate in society. You were also taught music, dancing, and literature, for understanding and appreciating poetry was considered a virtue for a Roman woman.

As you settled in your room, the memory of Marcus’s gaze lingered in your mind. The image of his rugged face, scarred from countless battles, and his piercing eyes was etched into your thoughts. There was something about him that was both terrifying and captivating.

A soft knock on your door interrupted your reverie. It was your handmaid, Lydia, her expression curious.

"Where have you been?" she asked, her voice low but firm.

You hesitated, then sighed. "I went to see the procession."

Lydia’s eyes widened. "The general’s return? You could have been caught!"

"I know," you admitted, "but I had to see him."

"Why? What could be so important?"

You bit your lip, unsure how to explain the inexplicable pull you felt towards the gladiator general. "I don't know, Lydia. It's just... when our eyes met, it felt like something changed."

Lydia shook her head, her expression a mix of worry and understanding. "You must be careful. The world outside is not as forgiving as the walls of this villa."

The days following the procession were filled with a whirlwind of emotions. You couldn't shake the image of Marcus from your mind. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw his intense gaze, felt the inexplicable connection that had sparked between you.

The grand villa of your father was abuzz with preparations for the evening’s banquet. Slaves hurried to and fro, setting tables with fine silverware and arranging elaborate floral displays. The scent of roasted meats and freshly baked bread wafted through the air, mingling with the delicate fragrance of flowers.

Tonight, your father, a respected senator, was hosting a dinner in honor of General Marcus Acacius. The entire house was a flurry of activity, with guests arriving in their finest attire, their laughter and chatter filling the atrium. You stood near the entrance, feeling the weight of your responsibilities as the senator’s daughter.

Your mother approached, adjusting the drape of your stola with a critical eye. “Remember, you must be on your best behavior tonight. This banquet is crucial for your father’s alliances.”

You nodded, though your mind was elsewhere. Ever since you had seen Marcus in the parade, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. The memory of his piercing gaze had haunted you, and now he was here, in your home.

"Come," your father said, his hand on your back guiding you through the crowd. "I want you to meet someone."

You followed, your heart pounding in anticipation. As you approached, you saw him standing there, taller and more imposing than anyone else in the room. Marcus Acacius, the hero of Rome, the man who had invaded your thoughts and dreams.

"General Acacius," your father began, his voice carrying the weight of his status, "allow me to introduce my daughter."

Marcus turned, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. He bowed slightly, a gesture of respect, but his gaze remained unwavering. "My lady," he said, his voice like velvet, "it is an honor."

General Marcus was the most strikingly handsome man you had ever seen. His chiseled features were framed by dark brown eyes beneath thick, black eyebrows. His long, aquiline nose and firm mouth, accentuated by a sensuously full lower lip, completed the picture of rugged masculinity. He stood tall, towering over most men, with a lean, muscular body and broad, powerful shoulders.

His hair, a captivating mix of salt and pepper, was cut short and fell in loose curls around his head, with distinguished grey patches in his beard that added to his allure.

"The honor is mine, General," you replied, your voice trembling despite your efforts to stay composed.

"Please, call me Marcus," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "We are, after all, in more intimate surroundings."

Your father chuckled, clearly pleased with Marcus's easy charm. "I will leave you two to get acquainted," he said, patting Marcus on the shoulder before moving away to mingle with other guests.

The moment your father left, the air between you and Marcus seemed to crackle with electricity. He took a step closer, the heat of his body radiating towards you. "I must confess," he murmured, his voice low and intimate, "I have been looking forward to this moment."

You swallowed hard, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. "As have I," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

Marcus's eyes darkened with desire, and he reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against your arm. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your knees weaken. "You are even more captivating up close," he said, his voice husky. "I find myself drawn to you, like a moth to a flame."

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat as his hand slid up your arm, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Do you feel it too?" he whispered.

You nodded, unable to form a coherent response. The intensity of his presence was overwhelming, his scent, his warmth, the sheer power of his focus on you.

As Marcus's hand continued to caress your arm, you felt your heart race with a mixture of excitement and nerves. You had never been this close to him before, and the realization that he was interested in you sent a wave of exhilaration through your body.

His lips brushed against your earlobe, making you shiver. "I want to know everything about you," he murmured, his voice sending sparks down your spine. "Your hopes, your dreams, what makes you laugh and what makes you cry out for mercy."

You turned towards him, meeting his intense gaze. "I want to know about you too," you said, feeling bold in his presence.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he leaned closer. "There is not much to tell," he said modestly, though the way his eyes roamed over your face suggested otherwise. "Just a soldier who has dedicated his life to serving Rome."

But there was something more behind those words, something hidden beneath the mask of duty and honor. You could sense it in the way he held himself, in the intensity of his gaze.

"I don't believe that," you said firmly. "There is so much more to a person than their profession."

Marcus's smile widened into a grin as he took another step closer to you. "You are wise beyond your years," he said appreciatively.

The room around you seemed to fade away as you became lost in each other's gaze. It was as if there was no one else in the world but the two of you.

Suddenly, a loud noise broke through the moment – someone had knocked over a vase nearby. The sound jolted both of you back to reality and Marcus stepped back slightly.

"I should go check on that," he said regretfully.

Marcus's lips lingered on your skin for a moment longer before pulling away to look into your eyes. "I promise, we will continue this conversation another time," he said softly.

You nodded, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. You couldn't wait to spend more time with him and get to know him better.

As Marcus turned to leave, you couldn't help but watch him walk away, his confident stride and broad shoulders filling you with a sense of admiration. You sighed dreamily and turned back to the feast, only to be greeted by your handmaids with teasing grins.

"What was that all about?" one of them asked, wiggling their eyebrows suggestively.

You feel your cheeks heat up, trying to hide your excitement. "Nothing," you said coyly. "Just a conversation."

As the guests were seated in the triclinium, the air was filled with the sounds of conversation and the clinking of goblets. You found yourself seated across from Marcus, who looked imposing in his formal attire. His presence commanded the room, yet his eyes frequently strayed to you, a subtle intensity in his gaze.

The evening progressed with toasts to Marcus’s victories and speeches praising his valor. You tried to focus on the conversations around you, but your mind kept drifting to the man across the table. Finally, you could bear it no longer. Under the pretense of needing fresh air, you excused yourself and slipped out into the garden.

The cool night air was a welcome relief as you wandered through the manicured paths, the soft glow of lanterns illuminating your way. The garden was a haven of tranquility compared to the lively banquet inside. You found a secluded bench and sat down, letting out a sigh of relief. The gentle rustling of leaves and the distant hum of voices from the villa created a serene backdrop as you tried to gather your thoughts.

As you sat there, the faint sound of a conversation caught your attention. You turned your head slightly, realizing that a group of senators had gathered nearby, their voices low but urgent. You recognized the voices of some of the most influential men in Rome, including your father.

"I hear that Emperor Caracalla is eager to stage a grand spectacle," one senator said, his tone conspiratorial. "He wants to solidify his power and win the favor of the masses."

"Indeed," another replied. "I heard he plans to pit some of the finest gladiators against each other. And there are whispers that General Marcus Acacius himself might be forced to take part in the games."

You felt a pang of concern at the mention of Marcus's name. The thought of him in the Colosseum, fighting for his life, was almost too much to bear.

"Emperor Geta is not pleased with this idea," a third senator interjected. "He sees it as a waste of a valuable military asset. But Caracalla is determined. He believes a victory in the arena will elevate Marcus to legendary status, securing loyalty from the soldiers and the people alike."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you processed their words. The political machinations of Rome were ruthless, and it seemed that Marcus was caught in the middle of it all.

As the senators continued their discussion elsewhere, their voices drifting away back into the villa, you felt a presence behind you. You turned to see Marcus emerging from the shadows, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath catch. He moved silently, his powerful form cutting through the darkness like a predator stalking its prey.

"My lady," he said softly, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "It seems we both seek refuge in the quiet of the garden."

"Marcus," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and longing. "I overheard the senators. They plan to have you fight in the Colosseum."

His expression darkened, and he closed the distance between you in a few swift strides. "I know," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "The emperors play their games, and I am but a pawn. But tonight, I do not wish to think of such things."

He reached out, his hand cupping your cheek, the warmth of his touch igniting a fire within you. "Tonight, I only want to think of you."

Your breath hitched as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours with a tantalizing softness. The kiss deepened, his hands roaming over your body, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. His touch was both possessive and gentle, his need for you evident in every caress.

"Marcus," you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair. "This is madness. If we are caught..."

"Let them find us," he murmured against your lips. "I would rather face the lions in the arena than be without you."

His words sent a thrill through you, and you responded with a fervor that matched his own. Your bodies pressed together, the heat of your passion driving away the cool night air. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you, lost in each other.

"Promise me," you whispered, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. "Promise me you will come back to me, no matter what happens."

"I swear it," he said, his voice filled with determination. "No matter what the emperors or the gods throw at me, I will return to you."

With those words, he captured your lips again, sealing his promise with a kiss that left you breathless.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he reached out, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. He leaned in, his warm breath ghosting over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

His voice, a velvety whisper, sent a wave of desire flooding through you as he murmured, "I want you. Here. Now."

The moon was high in the sky, casting a soft glow over the garden, as Marcus pressed you against the wall. His hands roamed over your body, igniting fires with each touch. You could feel his desire for you, and it only fueled your own.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifted you up and pressed you against the garden walls. His body hovering over yours as he trailed kisses down your neck and along your collarbone. Every nerve in your body was on fire, and you couldn't contain the moan that escaped from your lips.

With a growl of need, Marcus captured your lips once again while his hands began to explore under your dress. The feeling of his warm skin against yours sent shivers down your spine as he traced patterns along your thighs.

"Marcus," you gasped between kisses. "We shouldn't-"

"Shhh," he whispered, gently sliding your white cotton robe off your shoulders. "I can't resist you any longer.”

Marcus unexpectedly reached out his large, rough hands and cupped each one of your breasts, weighing them in his palms. Your body jolted at the sudden touch, your skin tingling under his warm heat. You could feel the calluses on his fingers, hardened from years of wielding swords and other battle weapons, leaving tiny marks on your delicate skin like a trail of fire.

As he squeezed and rotated your breasts gently, desire surged through you, igniting a deep longing within. You wanted to surrender yourself completely to him, to offer up not just your body but your very being to his every whim. The sensation was so overwhelming that you yearned to throw your head back in abandonment and give in to the all-consuming pleasure he evoked.

The protests that had escaped your lips now transformed into guttural moans of pleasure as his skilled fingers worked their magic on your most sensitive spot. Every touch sent electric shocks through your body, making you shiver and writhe against the wall. As Marcus trailed his fingertips over every inch of your slick flesh, you felt yourself becoming more and more lost in the overwhelming waves of pleasure coursing through you. With each stroke, your body arched further off the wall, desperate for more of his touch. It was like a symphony of sensations, building and crescendoing until you were completely consumed by the intensity of it all.

He slid a finger between your legs and pushed it deep inside you. Pleasure shot through your body, causing you to arch and writhe as he expertly stroked your tight passage.

"My lady, you have an incredibly tight cunt," he grunted out, his voice strained and revealing his own growing arousal. His features twisted in pleasure and his eyes glinted with a primal lust.

He firmly grasped your aroused nub and slid another finger into your tight, welcoming entrance. "We have to be quiet or we'll risk getting caught," he whispered in your ear.

You nodded eagerly, pleading, "Yes, anything. Please."

As his skilled fingers gently rotated over your sensitive clit and his other digit pumped inside your wet, pulsing core, you couldn't help but surrender to the pleasure he was bestowing upon you. From the moment his eyes locked on yours, you knew you were his to be used however he pleased, your body a vessel for his insatiable desires. With each expert movement of his fingers, you felt yourself spiraling into a dizzying state of pure ecstasy, completely at his mercy. Your flesh responded eagerly to his touch, begging for more as he claimed you as his own.

The General's gentle touch on your skin was electrifying, bringing a growing pleasure to your body that felt almost overwhelming. You could feel yourself getting too hot, too tense, and you were afraid of releasing the intense climax that was building inside you with just a single touch.

"Oh Goddess," you gasped, tilting your head back against his shoulder and shutting your eyes as your desire became sharper and more urgent.

A sharp cry escaped your lips as his long finger penetrated you, rotating and rubbing inside your core while his other fingers worked relentlessly on your sensitive clitoris. Your body squirmed against the intense pleasure, your hands grasping at his muscular arms to anchor yourself amidst the overwhelming sensations. He chuckled softly as you began to move your hips in a circular motion, still continuing to bring you pleasure with his skilled touch for several minutes. Just as you were about to reach the edge of climax, he eased off slightly, keeping his movements quick and light.

But eventually, your body tensed up and convulsed, your movements erratic and desperate, your breaths coming in short gasps. As the tension in your loins grew tighter and tighter, you let out a high-pitched wail and reached the peak of ecstasy. Your walls pulsated around his probing finger, which was now coated in even more of your warm juices.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, Marcus gently turned you to face him again. His white robe and short toga were cast aside, leaving him naked in front of you. He stood tall and proud, his lean and muscular frame on full display. But it was his erect penis that took your breath away. It was massive, thick and much longer than average, standing rigid and red above a nest of dark pubic hair.

His impressive and exposed physique took your breath away as you gazed upon it. "Oh, my Goddess!" you exclaimed, feeling overwhelmed by his sheer size.

Without hesitation, Marcus reached out and grasped your thighs, pulling you closer to him. He leaned over your body, closed his fist around his member, and guided the tip towards your still-dripping entrance.

He managed to get the thick bulbous tip of his penis through your opening. You immediately felt stretched and full. You gave him a pouting look, your hips wriggling in an effort to accommodate him. “You big brute, you’re tearing me apart.”

He clenched his teeth, sweat starting to matt his silver and grey hair at his forehead. The pleasure of being inside such a tight flesh was almost dizzying, and he had to pull in all of his control to prevent himself from plunging completely inside of you.

That would come later, he promised, once you had been well oiled by him. He pushed again and managed another inch, and slowly continued to advance his penis inside your channel.

“You’re so tight,” his voice was harsh and strained, as if in pain. It wasn't too far from the truth; she felt tight around him, almost like a vice grip. But despite the discomfort, she was so warm and smooth inside.

With a groan, he slid the thick bulbous tip of his penis into your opening. A sharp pang of fullness shot through you as your body stretched to accommodate him. You gave him a pouting look, your hips wriggling and contorting in an effort to ease the pressure. "You big oaf," you playfully scolded, though there was a hint of pleasure in your voice.

He clenched his teeth, beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead as he fought for control. The sensation of being inside such tight, warm flesh was almost overwhelming, and he had to take deep breaths to calm himself. He promised himself that he would give in completely once you were well-oiled by him.

He pushed with all his strength, feeling the resistance of your body as he slid deeper and deeper inside. The walls of your channel were smooth and slick, clenching around him like a vice. He couldn't hold back the grunt that escaped his clenched teeth, a mix of intense sensation coursing through his body. It was a pleasurable pain, like being held in a fierce embrace by someone who loved you too much - an exquisite torture that he never wanted to end. But with each slow and deliberate thrust, he knew that the pleasure would only intensify, building to a climax that would leave them both breathless.

Slowly but surely, Marcus eased his penis deeper into your body. With each inch of progress, you both felt the intensity of your connection grow stronger. Your entire body trembled with each thrust he made. When he was halfway inside you, Marcus used his fingers to stimulate your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your core throbbed with ecstasy as Marcus took advantage of your relaxed muscles and thrust deeply inside you until he was fully engulfed.

You and Marcus both groan at the same time. He quickly covers your mouth with his hand, gently hushing you. "Shh, my Carissima... I know it feels good, but we must be quiet. We can't risk your father catching us in this compromising position." The General continues to stimulate your sensitive spot, using his fingers to tease and moisten it further.

Your hips continued to rock and push against his manhood, your desire growing with each movement. You leaned back and moaned as General Marcus Acacius took full control of your body. He held onto your hips tightly as he thrust deep inside you, the pleasure intensifying for both of you. It was clear that neither of you was far from reaching the peak of ecstasy.

You let out moans and contorted your body as the large, broad, man moved back and forth between your legs. As your face twisted in pleasure and your head thrashed about, you experienced this unfamiliar sensation called sexual pleasure. Your climax came quickly and intensely, feeling like it lasted for several minutes. You threw your head back and let out a scream as the intense pleasure broke through between your thighs. A hot wave of pleasure spread throughout your body, causing your hips to writhe against Marcus'.

As your body trembled and released into an intense orgasm, you felt Marcus' muscles tighten beneath you. A deep, primal roar escaped his lips as he too reached the peak of his climax. The sound echoed through the gardens blending with the rhythmic pounding of your heart and breath. It was a moment of pure, raw passion that left you both gasping for air and tangled in each other's embrace.

As the intense pleasure slowly subsided, you became aware of the small droplets of blood trickling down your thighs and onto the grass. It was a sign that your virginity had been taken, marking the end of an era and the beginning of a new one.

General Marcus Acacius carefully pulled out of you and helped you to sit up. You could see his concern in his eyes as he looked at the blood staining his robe on the ground and your thighs.

"Are you hurt, Carissima? I didn't mean to be so rough..." he asked, his voice filled with worry.

You shook your head, still trying to catch your breath. "No… I'm fine," you managed to say.

He let out a sigh of relief and gently wiped away the blood with a nearby cloth. You winced slightly at the slight soreness between your legs but it was nothing compared to the intense pleasure you had just experienced.

Marcus held you close, his strong arms wrapped around you protectively. "You were amazing, my love," he whispered in your ear.

A flood of emotions washed over you as you realized what had just happened between the two of you. You had shared an intimate moment with General Marcus Acacius, someone who was forbidden to you because of your status as a daughter of such nobility. And yet, in that moment, none of that mattered. All that mattered was the overwhelming feeling of love and desire that consumed both of you.

Your mind was spinning, knowing all too well what would happen if anyone found out about your relationship with the General. Your father would surely punish both of you severely and possibly even sell one or both of you off.

Even with the knowledge of what had just happened, and what could, it was difficult for you to feel remorse or embarrassment. Instead, you felt a sense of contentment and fulfillment that you had never experienced before.

Marcus chuckled warmly and gave you a soft kiss on your lips. "You are truly something special, Carissima," he said with adoration in his eyes.

You blushed at his words, feeling a surge of happiness wash over you. Despite the risks and consequences, being with Marcus felt like the most natural thing in the world.

But as the reality of your situation sank in, a sense of worry crept into your mind. How would you continue this relationship without anyone finding out? How could you possibly be with Marcus when your father would never allow it? Or worse, your father having you marry someone else?

Marcus brushed his fingers against your cheek, and it felt like he could read your mind. "We will find a solution, my love. I promise I will marry you and make you my wife," he whispered to soothe your fears.

The weight of Marcus' words settled heavily in your heart. The thought of being married to the man you loved filled you with joy and hope, yet the reality of it all seemed impossible.

"How could we possibly make that happen?" you asked, your voice laced with worry.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of doubt. How could someone as powerful and respected as General Marcus Acacius be able to marry someone like you? You were just a daughter of a nobleman, while he was one of the most influential men in the kingdom.

Marcus spoke with unwavering assurance, his gaze locked onto yours. As you looked back into his eyes, all your doubts and fears dissipated. You were certain that he would do anything to keep you safe and by his side. "We will find a way, my love. I will do whatever it takes to make you my wife."

"I believe in you," you said softly, placing a hand on his chest.

Marcus smiled and leaned in to kiss you again, his lips gentle and loving against yours. In that moment, everything else seemed to fade away except for the two of you.

"But we must be careful," Marcus reminded you, his tone serious once again. "We cannot let anyone find out about us until the time is right."

You nodded in agreement, understanding the risks that came with your relationship.

"We must also gain your father's approval," Marcus continued. "It won't be easy, but I am determined to prove myself worthy of you and your family."

You couldn't help but admire Marcus' determination and love for you. Despite the challenges ahead, he was willing to do anything to be with you.

As the sun began to rise, you woke up in your room with a smile on your face. Today was the day that Marcus would finally meet with your father and ask for your hand in marriage. You could hardly believe the moment had arrived, the day you had dreamt of for so long.

Ever since he had first confessed his love for you, the two of you had been meeting in secret, stealing moments together whenever possible. The clandestine nature of your meetings had made your bond even stronger. The thought of being with Marcus made every challenge worth it.

You dressed carefully, choosing your finest gown, and adorned yourself with simple yet elegant jewelry. Your heart raced with anticipation as you made your way to the garden where the betrothal ceremony would take place. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle rustle of leaves created a serene atmosphere.

In the garden, your father stood with Marcus, deep in conversation. The sight of them together filled you with a sense of pride and hope. Marcus, in his formal attire, looked every bit the honorable and powerful man that he was—a general respected by all of Rome.

Your father turned to you, his expression warm. "My dear daughter," he began, "today is a momentous day as the gods have blessed us. General Marcus Acacius has proven himself to be a man of honor and valor. It would be a great honor for our family to be united with his."

Marcus stepped forward, his eyes never leaving yours. "It is my greatest wish to make you my wife," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I promise to honor and protect you for all the days of my life."

The betrothal ceremony commenced, a formal ritual between your two families. Your father and Marcus exchanged respectful bows, symbolizing the joining of your households. Gifts were presented, and the dowry was discussed and agreed upon. A scribe stood by, ready to document the agreement in a written contract.

Marcus then produced a small, ornate box and opened it to reveal a beautiful finger ring. "This ring," he said, "is a symbol of my commitment to you, a tradition that stretches back through the ages."

He took your hand gently and slid the ring onto your finger, his touch sending a thrill through you. The ring was exquisite, a delicate band adorned with intricate engravings that spoke of ancient craftsmanship.

"You honor me with this gift, Marcus," you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion.

Marcus smiled, his eyes full of warmth. "The honor is mine, my love."

With the ring in place, you turned to the scribe, who handed you both the written agreement. You signed your name carefully, your hand steady despite the whirlwind of emotions within you. Marcus signed next, his signature bold and confident.

Finally, the moment came to seal the betrothal with a kiss. Marcus stepped closer, his gaze locked onto yours. He cupped your face in his hands and leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, sweet kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that perfect moment.

As you pulled away, you saw the approval in your father's eyes and felt a rush of joy and relief. You were now betrothed to Marcus, the man you loved, and your future together was set.

"Let this day be the beginning of a lifetime of happiness," your father declared, his voice filled with emotion.

Marcus took your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "Together, we will face whatever the future holds," he promised.

And with that, your hearts intertwined, you knew that your love would endure, growing stronger with each passing day. The journey ahead was full of promise, and with Marcus by your side, you felt ready to embrace it all.

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aurorawritestoescape · 2 months

Text

DESTINIES INTERTWINED

General Marcus Acacius x f!reader x Lucilla

Summary: you spend a passionate night with your lovers.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, mff, unspecified age gap, soft!Marcus, soft!Lucilla, polyamorous relationship, praise, f!oral, unprotected piv, creampie, breeding, mention of lactation, power imbalance. Sorry for any inaccuracies about Ancient Rome. Pics are only for the mood, reader has hair, but no other physical description.

Word count: 3k

A/n: should I even explain myself? A horny goblin inside me wrote it. Hope you will like it! Love you all!💖

Soft Marcus kiss to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕

MASTERLIST

You hear him before you see him. His heavy steps echo through the vast halls of the palace and reach your ears even through the soft music that the servants are playing. Then the bedroom doors loudly open and he enters the room— a warrior, a leader, a conqueror, ready to discard the worries of his day, to offer rest to his mind and soul.

Lucilla and you lying on the bed, leaning on the pillows and holding each other close. You two have been kissing and talking quietly from time to time but the atmosphere, a perfect image of leisure and softness mere moments ago, gets electrified, charged with masculine energy. The servants leave immediately, knowing well that General Marcus Acacius does not allow anyone to see what he does to his women.

You can never believe how generously the gods blessed you. After a life of slavery and abuse you are now cherished as if you’re of noble descent. Even better, you feel loved.

Marcus freed you from the brutal hands of your owner and though you still are enslaved to an outside eye, you have never felt more free.

The General made you his servant first and you welcomed his order with gratitude. You were happy to serve such an honorable man. He and his wife were kind masters and they did not see an object when they looked at you. They saw a person. Not much time passed before you found yourself in bed with both Marcus and Lucilla. You three quickly became one, regularly drowning each other in pleasure and adoration. So you were not surprised when Mercus suggested intertwining your destinies forever.

You shouldn’t be nervous, having had plenty of time to get used to the General’s overwhelming presence. But his power, his strength, his intelligence and beauty struck you every single time like the first. Your heart is fluttering and you squirm against Lucilla’s shoulder, and always attentive to your mood, the woman envelops you in her arms tighter, sharing more of her warmth with you, while nothing but thin nightgowns separate your bodies.

“Soften your expression, my love. You’re scaring our little rose.”

Marcus pauses discarding his gear and turns to you, eyes piercing and dark reading your features.

“Is it the truth, my beautiful girl? Am I still a scare for you?” he asks, walking up slowly to the bed. His voice is gruff, molded by countless battles, but for the two of you it’s silky and soft.

“No, General.. Marcus,” you reply in a soft voice, big eyes looking up at the man with adoration and piety. The sound of his name on your lips and your devoted gaze do the trick— his face softens and he gives you a warm smile. You smile back shyly and Lucilla pecks your temple, laughing,

“Our General can be quite intimidating. Yet you and I know that he is as gentle as a warm summer breeze. For us.”

Marcus smirks and continues taking off his gear and undergarments and soon he’s standing naked next to the bed— a broad torso, strong, defined muscles glistening softly in the dim candle light, his big heavy cock swaying with every move. The sight of him takes your breath away.

He leans down and kisses his wife first as his chest hovers over you and the scent of rose oils caresses your senses.

Then it is your turn and he watches your face for a few seconds before he greets the beginning of a passionate night with you, planting a gentle kiss on your lips.

“How are my loves?” He asks, sitting down on the bed, facing you two, as you lick your lips, savoring his taste.

“She’s ready. Bona Dea favors us— the time is perfect,” Lucilla hurries to inform him, excitement painting her every word, “I played with her during the washing. She must come as much as possible for the seed to stick.”

Your cheeks start burning and your chest is heaving as you avert your gaze from the man in front of you but Marcus pinches your chin and gently lifts your face to his, searching for your eyes.

“Nothing to be shy about, my heart. You will give me.. give us a son, my heir and our destinies, mine, yours and Lucilla’s will be intertwined forever.”

His lips curve in a warm smile and you relax, taking a big calming breath. A whimper escapes your lips when his hand slides from your face to your chest and then belly. He puts his palm over it, rubbing it with his thick thumb and the heat of his touch, warming your skin through the sheer fabric, ignites your core and paints your face with need and desire.

“Yes, Marcus. I wish for nothing more.”

“Sweet little rose,” he coos at you and hunches down so he could press his face to your covered mound. The General takes a deep breath and you open your legs wider so he could revel in the scent of your arousal.

“Our beautiful rose,” his wife echoes, “Give her one more before we start, my love. I shall assist you.”

You turn your head to look at Lucilla’s gorgeous face, your eyes full of lust and gratitude and you reach for her to kiss you. She smiles and soon her soft lips are caressing yours, her tongue is licking into your whimpering mouth and you gasp against her lips when her husband latches onto your bare cunt.

Bunching up your nightgown over your waist Marcus is feasting on your sweet nectar, flowing generously from your clenching hole. Lucilla drew an orgasm from you mere minutes before and he’s reaping the fruit of her labor.

When he starts sucking on your puffy clit, you part from the woman’s lips and direct your gaze at the General eating you out, his lips and tongue celebrating your pussy, methodically bringing you to your high.

Overwhelmed by the sight of this man, strong and powerful, sliding his warm tongue through your glistening folds, you softly moan. Soon your whimpers fill the room as you're writhing in bed, running your fingers through his silky curls.

"She's close, my love, do not stop," Lucilla tells her husband and her hand slithers to your chest and pulls down the neckline of your nightgown.

She gently cups your breast and her fingers twitch your pebbled nipple. You moan as her touch sends a new surge of wetness to your entrance for her husband to lap up.

Marcus’s obsidian eyes flick up to the sight of his wife playing with your tits and he parts from your cunt to ask,

“Will you give me an honor to taste your milk when it’s time, my little rose? I would love your sweet breasts to nourish me, just like your little cunt is nourishing me right now.”

You moan at his words and eagerly nod, biting your lower lip, and Marcus’s slick-coated mouth curves into a content smile.

Lucilla whispers, “We love you,” against your temple and they continue pleasuring you, her hands kneading your breasts, his mouth on your soft pussy and soon you’re coming, shaking against Lucilla’s body, as she’s praising you throughout, while Marcus is quenching his thirst with your plentiful juices.

When he lifts his head his bearded chin and mustache are shining with the evidence of your ecstasy and you reach your arms towards him to pull him close and lick it off his face. Lucilla rushes to help you and soon the three of you are kissing, tongues and lips moving passionately in this lustful dance of three. You’re comforted by their bodies, caging you against each other, and you wish for this moment to last forever.

They give you only a moment of respite before Marcus takes your nightgown off and wraps his throbbing cock in his big veiny hand. He pumps it with a few languid strokes and you swallow loudly, watching his huge manhood grow even bigger. Marcus cups your cheek with a free hand and coos,

“Don't fret, little rose. You’ve taken me before. I promise to be slow and gentle.”

“Lie down between my legs, my love, so I could feel every thrust Marcus gives you,” Lucilla purrs, helping you to shift and you happily lean your back on her chest as she wraps her arms around you.

“This time it will take, I know it,” Lucilla continues, as her palms are gliding over your shoulders, breasts and belly in a calming gesture but your cunt tingles again at her soft touch.

Marcus lies between your spread thighs, his hard cock pressed to your mound, and gifts you another heady kiss, reminding you of his love and care.

“You’re strong, my love. You shall receive my seed and grow a new life for us three. You shall be mine forever.”

You breathe out a quiet ‘yes’ and he brushes your cheek with his lips at the same time pushing the tip of his cock into your soaked hole. You already feel the dull stretch and grasp Lucilla’s arms enveloping you and she whispers,

“I shall help you, little rose.”

Her hand slithers between Marcus’s and your bodies and she finds your throbbing clit, soaked with your cum and her husband’s saliva. She begins rubbing it in tight circles, murmuring in your ear,

“Relax, my precious, open up for him. Let Marcus fill you up with his seed. Sometimes I wish I had a cock too so we both could make you full with cum.”

You mewl, hearing her words, while the General thrusts in, close to bottoming out, and the fullness, the stretch that he bestows on you, quickly overwhelms you and your head whips to the side as your needy eyes search for your female lover.

“I need you,” you admit with a weak voice and she smiles down at you and moves your torso slightly to the side, freeing her chest.

She takes her breast out of her sheer nightgown and brings your face closer. You take a sharp breath at the sight of her beautiful tit and latch onto her puffy nipple. You flutter your eyes shut with pleasure, enjoying the sweetness of her skin, as she’s holding you close to feed you her breast better, while her husband’s cock prods deeper and deeper inside your wet hot cunt.

Her bud hardens in your mouth and she starts moaning while you’re licking it, swirling your tongue around and then suckling on the nipple. She knows how much you love it, the feeling so comforting and ecstatic, you whimper as your pussy gushes around Marcus’s cock.

The man grunts and growls, thrusting his fat stiffness little by little inside you,

“Oh gods, you are just as tight as our first night together. Remember, little rose, how long it took me to fully sheath my cock into your sweet cunt?” You move just your eyes to glance at him, not parting from his wife’s tit, and hum in agreement.

“I shall be slow now as well.” His voice is strained and he grinds his teeth, trying not to pierce you with his girthy length in one go, desperately wishing to bottom out but holding up for the sake of your comfort.

Finally his heavy balls slap your ass and you both moan loudly as his tip gives a kiss to your cervix. You feel so full and happy, your lips leave Lucilla’s breast and you take Marcus’s face in your hands to kiss him. The giant man moans as your soft mouth thanks him for the gift of his cock and you can’t make yourselves part from one another, reveling in the taste of your love and desire. He twitches deep inside you and not tearing his lips from yours he begins rolling his hips, fucking you slowly and gently, massaging his length with your snug walls and it feels like he fucks into your belly, into your soul and heart, so deep that you hold your breath, afraid to move, scared he will split you in two with the might of his manhood.

Judging by her soft moans, Lucilla senses his thrusts, as if he’s fucking both of you, and soon she starts grinding her pussy against your ass and you feel her wetness smeared on your skin.

Marcus’s heavy cock drugs in and out of your hole, caressing your core and pushing on the pleasure spot inside you. But you can not be that selfish as to enjoy this beautiful and hopefully fruitful night without your other lover so you part from the General’s mouth to murmur,

“Lucilla, I want—.”

“What is it, my love?” the woman behind you asks and Marcus pauses his movements to let you speak.

“I wish— wish to feel you on my tongue.”

Your voice is barely audible as shyness overtakes you but it’s loud enough for your lovers to hear.

“You wish to…,” Lucilla starts but you interrupt her. “Yes, sit on my face. Please,” you plea as you turn your head to look at her.

They’re quick to fulfill your wish and soon Lucilla gets from under you and plants her knees on the sides of your face. Her cunt is hovering over your mouth, as she’s facing her husband, who’s still buried deep in your heat. She discards her sheer nightgown and you take a sharp breath, as her gorgeous naked body blesses your vision. Her glistening folds are calling for you to taste them. So you pull her down with your hands on her thighs and, after opening up as wide as possible, you cover her cunt with the warmth of your mouth. You hungrily lick a path from her clit to her hole and gather all the wetness off her hot skin. She doesn’t let you wait long and soon she’s gushing more onto your waiting tongue.

“My little rose!” She gasps, surprised by your eagerness and lust, “So good to us,” she coos at you while her fingers are running through your hair. The woman moans when your tongue prods her hole and you slide it deeper while your hands knead her asscheeks and thighs.

“Is it nice, my love? Is our little rose making you happy?” Marcus asks his wife, who’s moving her body up and down now, fucking herself on your tongue.

“Oh, yes,” she breathes out and throws her head back in ecstasy.

You don’t see Marcus but you feel him, so much of him as he’s thrusting his cock into you with steady and deep strokes.

“You two are perfect and you’re mine,” he growls, “I am thankful to the gods for giving me both of you.”

Then you feel his big hands on your breasts and he begins caressing your nipples with his calloused fingers, making you whimper against his wife’s cunt.

“Wish your tits were full of milk already. The warm nectar would trickle down my hands right now,” he accentuates his words, kneading your breasts, “When you bare my child I shall make sure to have you on my cock and in my mouth every day, to devour your sweet cunt whenever you wish.”

His words make your heart and pussy flatter and he grunts, as his cock twitches deep in your core. Marcus increases the pace at which his stiffness is spearing you again and again and you grab Lucilla’s thighs to keep yourself from sliding up the bed.

“My love, her mouth is heaven,” the woman moans, addressing her husband and the next moment you hear their lips moving against each other. His cock, stuffing your soaked cunt, your tongue in her wet hole, the sensations pull you to the heights of pleasure and, overwhelmed with ove and lust, you come, moaning loudly, your sweet noises muffled by Lucilla’s cunt.

It sets a chain reaction and your walls, clamping around Marcus’s cock, make him explode and he begins shooting his hot load deep into your contracting core. He quickly fills you up and soon you hear the lewd noises of your cunt, squelching with his every thrust.

You desperately wish for Lucilla to come with you too and, still trembling with ecstasy under their naked bodies, you wrap your lips around her clit and suck, lick, flick it with the tip of your tongue bringing her higher to meet Marcus and you there. Soon you’re successful and she cries out your name until Marcus kisses her and drinks her moans.

When she stills, her cunt leaves your mouth and she lies down on the bed next to you.

You finally set your eyes on the General and marvel at his beauty — his strong muscles are bulging, the skin, dewy with sweat, is almost glowing in the warm candle light, his curls are tousled and some have fallen on his forehead. Your lover is panting heavily, descending from his hard climax. He gives you a warm smile as he coos,

“Look at you, my beautiful rose, your lips are coated with the evidence of Lucilla’s love for you. Let me…”

With that he leans down not pulling out and kisses you, licking the slick of your lips and chin.

“Do not spill the seed, my love,” Lucilla warns him and he hums against your mouth.

“Never, not a drop shall fall,” he mumbles, as his lips part from yours, “Your full cunt shall be plugged by my cock all night, little rose.”

You nod, barely having any strength to do so, and he carefully lies down next to you, gently turning your body on your side and you feel Lucilla’s arms embrace you from behind. Marcus’s manhood is still in your stretched hole and he puts your leg over thigh and bucks his hips to plug you better.

You revel in their warmth, adoration and love, resting between your lovers. They start talking about your future together, your baby and how they are going to take care of you two and you drift off with a happy and hopeful smile on your face.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic! Your feedback motivates me so much!❤️

Masterlist

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk

Tagging some lovelies who commented on the Wip post @ozarkthedog @fruityreads @604to647 @corazondebeskar-reads

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #marcus acacius #general marcus acacius #marcus acacius x reader #pedro pascal x reader #gladiator 2 #Lucilla

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geralt-of-baevia · 2 months

Text

Look What You Made Me Do

pairing: General Marcus Acacius x OFC (Hebe Seneca)

rating:explicit MDNI 18+

word count: 7.1k (it's a big one!)

summary: Hebe finds out her husband owes General Acacius a debt he can't pay, so the General takes her for an evening as payment instead.

warnings/tags: cuckhold, dom/sub, breathe play/choking, breast play, facial slap (nothing too harsh though), vaginal fingering, male receiving oral, big dick Marcus Acacius, female receiving oral, save a horse ride a general, ejaculating ON her, soft Marcus Acacius

a/n: alright, I saw that goddamn trailer, and this idea instantly popped into my head. i am waaaay too excited for gladiator II this fall. I've never written anything like this *ahem this filthy ahem* but I'm proud of it! There will more than likely be a part two as well!

oh and also, i TRIED my damnedest to write this from second person and I just couldn't do it. :P

I was awoken from my midmorning nap from banging on the front door. I threw my robe on myself and rushed out towards the noise. Once in the hallway, I saw two Roman guards standing at our door, more lined in perfect symmetry behind them. They stood tall and proud, their stature unwavering. My husband stood before them, looking small next to their towering figures. “Are you Octavius Seneca?” one of the soldiers asked. My husband nodded. “I am. What is this about?” The two soldiers each took a step outward. To my surprise, General Marcus Acacius walked out from behind them. He walked forward until he was almost nose to nose with my husband.

“I am done waiting Octavius,” he said, his tone stern and strong. I watched as my husband began to practically shake with fear. “G-General, I don’t have the money-” “I don’t want to hear it!” the General shouted.

My husband owed Acaicus money? I watched in horror he grabbed my husband by the collar, pulling him closer.

“You have had more than enough time to repay your debts, Octavius. Now, you will pay with more than just coin,” he growled menacingly. My heart pounded in my chest as I realized the danger my husband was in. I couldn't stand by and watch him be harmed. Summoning all the courage within me, I stepped forward. “Please, General Acacius, there must be another way to settle this debt,” I implored, my voice quivering but determined. The General's steely gaze turned towards me, and for a moment, I feared his wrath would be directed at me instead. But then, to my surprise, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“And who might you be?” he asked, his tone softening ever so slightly.

“I am Hebe Seneca, wife of Octavius,” I stated, trying to keep my ground.

“Hebe?” he implored. He dropped my husband’s tunic and began to slowly stalk towards me. “Hebe was said to be Zeus and Hera’s most beautiful daughter.”

Once he finally made his way over to me, he stood before me, just close enough that I could feel his breath against my skin.

“You bear a fitting name, for you possess a beauty that rivals that of the goddess herself,” he remarked, his voice low and filled with an unexpected tenderness. "A woman of such beauty should not be tainted by the dealings of men like your husband."

I couldn’t help but feel a shiver run down my spine at his words, a mixture of fear and something else I dared not identify. General Acacius had a reputation for being ruthless, but in this moment, there was a glint of something else in his eyes.

"General, please," I began, not daring to look away from his piercing gaze. "There must be a way to resolve this without any violence."

He seemed to consider my words for a moment, his jaw clenched in contemplation. Finally, he straightened up and turned to face my husband, who looked bewildered by the sudden shift in the atmosphere. "Octavius Seneca," General Acacius spoke with authority. "You will repay your debts, but not with coin." My husband's eyes widened in confusion, but before he could respond, the General continued, “your debts will be repaid after I lay with your wife.” The room fell silent, the weight of the General's proposition hanging heavily in the air. My heart pounded in my chest as I struggled to comprehend the severity of what he was suggesting. My husband's expression twisted in a mixture of shock and outrage, his fists clenching at his sides. A sense of thrill coursed through me, my mind buzzing with what he was proposing exactly. My head spun with excitement as I struggled to comprehend the seductive danger in his words. The General's gaze bore into mine, a mix of dominant need and alluring charm that sent shivers down my spine.

We were faced with a decision: either my husband's death, or submitting me to the general's desires. As my husband's property, I knew he would not spare his life for the sake of my pride and dignity.

“Y-Yes! Yes!” my husband shouted from behind Acacius. He turned around to look at him as he finished. “I agree! You may lay with my wife. Anything to preserve my life.”

My heart began to beat rapidly in my chest, the room beginning to spin. I fell to the couch, sitting and steadying myself as the full realization of what was to happen sunk in.

“Good,” General Acacius’ voice boomed out, “it is settled.”

My husband stood in front of me, looking as if he had aged a hundred years in the span of a few moments. My mind was still reeling. I could see the fear in his eyes, the regret that he had ever gotten himself into such a situation.

I knew I would never forgive him for this.

But there was also something in the air, a sense of danger, arousal, and desperation. A feeling that intoxicated me, even if it was terrifying. I bit down on my lip, trying to bring myself to focus on the situation at hand.

The General, on the other hand, seemed to have regained his composure. He seemed almost pleased with himself, like he had accomplished something he had wanted to do for a long time. I couldn't help but wonder what his motivations were, what he saw in me that made him feel this way.

My husband stood anxiously, waiting for the General to say something or perhaps give directions. General Acacius walked over to me again, this time standing closer to me.

“We shall see if you possess Hebe’s mercy and forgiveness, too,” he said, his voice low and husky.

“Yes General,” I replied, looking up at him. As our eyes met and locked, I couldn't help but feel a strange, electrifying connection. It was as if a current flowed between us, one that I couldn't resist.

General Acacius leaned down, his face close to mine, scenting the air around me as if trying to capture a memory. He whispered in my ear, "Tomorrow night, at the Temple of Aphrodite, with your husband. I will claim what is rightfully mine."

I felt a shiver run through me at his words, and I nodded slowly. The agreement was made, the deal was struck. General Acacius and his soldiers left, and I was left to process what had just transpired.

My husband sat across from me, silent and defeated, as I contemplated the gravity of the situation. What had once been a life of the domestic mundane, now seemed to be teetering on the edge of danger, lust, and a contract that threatened to change everything I knew.

As the sun went down, the streets of Rome were abuzz with people going about their daily routines. Octavius and I sat in silence on our couch, contemplating the deal we had made. The weight of our agreement weighed heavily on us as we each processed the gravity of the situation.

That night, as I lay in bed, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of fear and arousal. I knew that tomorrow night, I would be with General Acacius.

I closed my eyes, trying to imagine what it would be like to be with him. Would he be gentle or rough? What would his touch feel like in comparison to my husband’s, the only touch I’ve ever known.

As I lay there, thoughts and images flooded my mind. I saw us entwined, our bodies moving in perfect harmony, the General's strong, muscular arms holding me close. I could feel his lips on mine, his breath warm and sensual as he whispered filthy things in my ear. I could feel his body pressing against mine, the heat of his skin against my own, our hearts pounding in sync.

I was taken aback by the urge of desire I was now feeling, it taking place of the fear I had before. I could feel the wetness between my legs, the aching need for release. I wanted to feel his touch, to be claimed by the General.

I bit down on my lip, trying to will the thoughts out of my head. I shouldn’t be looking forward to this.

The next day, I woke up early, feeling a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. I knew that tonight was the night I would meet the General at the Temple. I spent the day filling my time with anything I could until the sun began to set, signaling it was time to leave.

I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of excitement, my body still betraying my mind. As I dressed I could feel my husband’s eyes on me, but I was too distracted to care. My thoughts were only consumed by that of General Acacius.

Soon after we left and headed in the direction of the temple. I kept my palla down over my face, too ashamed and nervous for anyone to see me walking to my inevitability. No one who passed me and my husband knew what we were doing, nor did they care. But I couldn’t help but feel judgemental eyes on me nonetheless.

Once we arrived to the temple, we entered quietly. I took my hood off of my head, laying it back atop my long scarlet hair. The temple was dimly lit, and the air was thick with anticipation. I could hear the soft whispers of the few other patrons, their breaths catching in their throats as if they sensed the impending encounter.

As we entered the small sanctuary, I saw the General at the other side of the room in front of the altar. Standing tall and proud, his eyes glinting with desire. He was a sight to behold, his muscles rippling beneath his tunic. He was a man of power and command, and the attention he drew to himself, even in an empty room, was undeniable.

My husband stayed by my side, standing quietly as he watched the General's every move. He was a mere shadow compared to the General's commanding presence, his anxiety and fear palpable.

The General's eyes met mine, and his gaze was intense, almost threatening. It was as if he was looking deep into my soul, seeing things that no one else could. For the briefest moment, I was afraid of what he might discover, how I wanted what was about to happen. How I wanted to see what he could do, what he would make me feel.

As we approached him, the General held out his hand, and I tentatively took it. His touch was firm and strong, his grip unyielding. It sent a shiver down my spine, a feeling of both dread and excitement.

“Now, just laying with you is not all that will be happening tonight,” he stated. He pulled lightly on my hand, leading me towards the altar. My heart began to pound in my chest, wondering what he had in store for us. He walked me up to the altar, before effortlessly picking me up by the waist and sitting me down on it. I watched as he then brought over a chair and sat it down a mere few feet away, facing me.

“Come Octavius, take a seat,” the General called, his voice now booming and commandeering. My husband’s eyes widened as he slowly made his way over, walking up the steps to the altar cautiously. As he sat down in the chair, the General picked up rope from the floor and quickly began tying him to it.

He bound his hands and feet tightly, making sure there was no chance of escape. Octavius' face was a mix of fear and confusion, but the General didn't seem to pay much heed to his emotions. He simply looked at me, his eyes burning into mine, as if daring me to back out of the deal we had made.

As I sat there, frozen in place, I felt a strange sense of liberation. General Acacius had taken control, and there was no going back now. I could feel the excitement building inside me, mixed with an inexplicable sense of power.

"Now, my pet," he said, his voice low and seductive, "Tonight, you will be mine. You will submit to me, and you will enjoy it."

I bit down on my lip, trying to resist the desire that was bubbling up inside me. But the more he spoke, the more I found myself leaning towards him, desperate for his touch. I looked into his dark and intense eyes, nodding in agreement.

He promptly began to unfasten my tunic, my heart now threatening to beat out of my chest. I had never been with anyone besides my husband, and now, here I was, about to be intimate with another man. But the need for this experience, for this control and desire, was building within me, making me more eager with every passing second.

The General's strong, capable hands moved with a practiced ease, sliding over my skin as he removed the garment. I felt a shiver run through me as he exposed my breasts, their sensitivity heightened by anticipation.

His eyes flashed as he took them in before reaching forward and grabbing them greedily. I let out a stifled moan as he continued, a newfound arousal building within me. I had never felt this way before – so powerless, yet so aroused.

He reached up with a hand and wrapped his thick fingers around my neck, applying just enough pressure to make me feel completely under his control. I whimpered, my body shivering under his touch. The more he controlled me, the more I seemed to crave his dominance.

He leaned in, his hot breath washing over me as he whispered, "You are mine, and there is nothing you can do to change that."

I nodded as best I could, looking at him through pleading, submissive eyes. He released my neck before giving my cheek a hearty slap, my skin stinging in the aftermath. His eyes pierced into mine, and I could see the raw hunger and desire in his gaze. With one quick motion, he pulled me towards him, my mouth now open to his.

Our tongues met, and I allowed myself to be swept away by the passion that now consumed us. I wrapped my legs around his middle, holding him close, our bodies now fully entwined. I could feel his erection through his tunic, hard and ready for me. My own desire surged within me, and my hands grabbed at him anywhere I could. He reached around and grabbed a fistful of my curly hair, pulling me away from him.

He took a step back, and began to undress, undoing his belt first and letting it fall to the floor. My eyes never left him as he peeled off his robes, his massive erection springing free. It was imposing, a sight I had never seen before. It was even larger and more impressive than I had imagined. My cunt throbbed at the thought of what was to come.

“Now, a rule,” he started, closing the space between us again, "you will address me as 'General'.” His voice was rough and commanding. I took a moment to catch my breath before responding.

“Yes, General.”

I watched with capacious eyes as his fingers trailed down my chest, over my stomach, and then slid between my legs. I gasped, my body tense with anticipation, but I spread my legs out wider for him. His fingers brushed against my wetness, making my whole body tremble.

"You are so wet for me already, my pet," he growled, his voice low and seductive. He moved close, his lips brushing my ear. “And to think I thought you were going to hate this. But don’t worry, my minx, your little secret is safe with me. I won’t tell your husband how much you’re going to enjoy this.”

My husband. Somehow I had been so enraptured by General Acacius that I had completely forgotten about my husband sitting tied up behind him.

“Is all understood?” he asked, pulling back to look me deep in the eyes once more. I nodded, chewing at my bottom lip.

Without further warning, he reached down and grabbed my hips roughly, pulling me against his erection. I gasped, my body responding to him. His hand moved lower, thumb brushing against my wet folds as he spoke.

“Tonight, we will explore every single inch of each other's bodies. No part will be left untouched.” I shuddered, my heart pounding with anticipation.

The General's hand continued to roam my body, taking his time to explore every curve and slope. As his fingers drifted further south, they dipped between my legs again, teasing me on the outside but avoiding the sensitive area that craved his touch. I whimpered, yearning for him to touch me where I desired most.

"And you will beg for it," he said with a wicked smile. "But first, we must ensure that your husband is comfortable. He has done me a great service in escorting you here."

With that, he turned his attention to Octavius, who was still securely tied to the chair. I was left open and exposed, wanting more. General Acacius walked over, his large, muscular frame imposing and dominant. He reached down and grabbed one of the ropes tying Octavius's hands. He pulled it tighter and yanked it towards him, causing Octavius's wrists to pop painfully. Octavius whimpered in submission.

His other hand cupped Octavius's chin and lifted his head up to face him. His eyes were fierce and dominating. "Understand this, Octavius, I will claim her, and she will crave no man other than me after this. You will always pale in comparison to me. You have done good on keeping your word to me, now it is time for you to watch and learn the proper way to please your wife."

Octavius nodded, tears in his eyes. I should be terrified. I shouldn’t want this.

General Acaicus stalked back over to me, his cock still standing tall and to attention. He climbed onto the altar, settling down behind me. I could feel his erection pressing into the small of my back as he got closer, the heat of his body threatening to envelop me and swallow me up.

He reached his hands around me and grabbed again at my breasts, massaging them. I couldn’t help but lean back against him, closing my eyes, letting him enwrap me completely.

“I knew you were a lucky man Octavius, but I didn’t realize just how lucky you were,” General Acacius stated to my husband. I opened my eyes and looked at Octavius, his jaw slack as he watched the General grope me. I tried my best to play off that I wasn’t enjoying it, but I knew I was doing a terrible job.

His hands trailed down my body, resting on my thighs and spreading my legs out even wider. I felt completely exposed, and the thought of my husband watching me like this sent a strange mix of embarrassment and arousal coursing through me.

“Keep your eyes on your wife, Octavius," he ordered loudly, and my husband obeyed, his eyes never leaving me as General Acacius began to explore my body.

His fingers brushed against my folds once more, teasing me, building up the anticipation. I whimpered, desperate for more. Every inch of my body was screaming for him, and I did my best to keep it contained.

"Are you ready to be claimed?" the General asked, his voice low and seductive, "Are you ready to give yourself to me completely?"

I nodded, my heart pounding with desire. I wanted him inside me, wanted to feel him take control of my body.

"Then beg me," he demanded.

I bit my lip, trying to find the words. "P-please, General, claim me. Make me yours."

"Dear wife," Octavius whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. I could see the pain in his eyes of having to watch. But I was his to lose, and General Acacius was taking me.

The feeling of his fingers brushing against me, teasing me, brought me back from my thoughts and I whimpered in need. My breath caught in my throat as he finally touched me, sliding two fingers inside my wet folds. I cried out, his immense fingers filling me up. His free hand reached up to my throat, his digits wrapping around my neck once more. As he tightened his grip, my pussy tightened around his fingers. He chuckled softly.

He spoke quietly, his breath tickling my ear. "Looks like someone enjoys a little rough handling."

"Yes, General," I moaned, my voice barely above a whisper. "Please."

He drove his fingers deeper, hitting a spot that made me arch my back, my eyes rolling back in pleasure. His hand tightened around my throat, and I gasped for air, his fingers continuing to work their magic inside me. My thoughts were a jumbled mess of desire and fear, my body trembling with anticipation.

"You will belong to me alone, Hebe," the General growled, his voice thick with lust. "And no man will ever touch you as I will."

I nodded, my heart pounding with desire and a hint of fear at the thought of Octavius hearing our intimate, hushed conversation. How would he feel knowing his wife was a whore?

General Acacius pulled out his fingers, leaving my pussy damp and throbbing, my knees weak. I wanted him, needed him. I turned my head and watched as he got down from the altar, making his way back over to me.

Without a word, he grabbed a fistful of the back of my hair, pulling me down to join him on the floor. As my bare feet hit the cool marble, I continued down onto my knees before him. I looked up at him through my eyelashes as he let go of my hair. He grabbed the base of his cock, taking half a step closer and holding himself up to my lips.

“Suck,” he commanded, his voice low and full of power. I hesitated for only a split second before opening my mouth and closing my lips around the head of his cock. As I took him in more, I began sucking and licking, savoring the salty taste of his skin.

His hands went to the back of my head, guiding my movements, and I obeyed, taking him deeper into my mouth with each thrust. General Acacius groaned with pleasure, his hips swaying gently with my movements.

I continued to suck and lick him, my tongue tracing the veins and the head of his cock. He silently guided me, telling me what to do, how to please him. I was now his, and I would do anything to make him feel good.

"That's it, Hebe, take me in," he moaned, his eyes locked with mine. I could see the desire and possession shining in his gaze. As my head bobbed back and forth, something took over him like a fervor. He moved his hands to either side of my head, firmly holding me still as he began to fuck into my mouth.

I couldn’t help but choke a little as he started thrusting, the force of his hips driving his cock deeper and deeper into my throat. I coughed and spluttered, trying to catch my breath while he continued his violent assault on my mouth and throat.

“Look at how well your wife takes my cock, Octavius. I would say you taught her well, but I know you didn’t.”

His eyes never left me, and he knew exactly what he was doing to me. I looked up at him through tear filled eyes as he choked me with his enormous cock, Octavius watching helplessly. I could tell he was intensely jealous and I knew it was exactly what General Acacius wanted. To make me his and create a divide between us.

This was better than any amount of coin to him.

He pulled back out of me, but quickly captured my jaw in his strong hand.

“Stick out your tongue,” he told me. I did as I was told and stuck my tongue out, not knowing what he was planning. He tightened his grip on my jaw and spit into my mouth, saliva dripping down his chin, his eyes never leaving me.

“Good girl.”

My pussy was throbbing with want, dripping down onto my thighs.

General Acacius smirked as he heard the disdain in Octavius' groan, knowing full well that he had won.

I closed my eyes as he began to fuck into my mouth again, and took a deep breath as I tried to stop choking. I wanted him to dominate me, to take me completely, to own me.

He finally stopped, pulling his cock out free from my mouth, a trail of saliva and precum dripping down my chin. I gasped for air, trying to fill my lungs while I had the chance. I looked up, still on my knees before him, my eyes pleading.

He smirked down at me, his eyes glinting with satisfaction and possession. He took a step back, giving me a moment to catch my breath. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, the rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. As I sat there, trying to regain my composure, I felt the cool marble beneath me, my knees trembling. My mind was a whirlwind of emotions - excitement, fear, desire, and, most importantly, a feeling of being truly and utterly owned.

He had taken me, owned me in a way that no man had ever done before, not even my husband.

General Acacius reached down, grabbing the back of my hair again. Before I could react, he pulled me up to my feet. My legs felt like jelly, and I stumbled slightly, but he kept a firm grip on me. He led me over to right in front of Octavius. He had one more trick up his sleeve, and he intended to ensure Octavius knew that he was in complete control.

He pushed me down onto the cold marble floor, my legs splayed wide apart, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. His gaze burned into Octavius, daring him to say anything as he got to his knees and began to position himself between my legs.

My husband gulped, his eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before him. He knew that he could do nothing but watch as his wife was taken by the General in a way he never could. I felt as he dipped his fingers into my cunt, collecting wetness on his fingers before holding them up.

“Do you see this? Do you see how wet your wife is for me? She’s never been this wet for you before, has she?” he asked Octavius, emphasizing his slick covered fingers.

I looked up just in time for my husband to shake his head. The General tsked at him, giving him a look full of disappointment.

“And after this, she never will,” he stated simply. My mouth fell slack as I watched him suck his fingers clean of my juices, moaning around his digits as his eyes closed and face screwed up. He pulled them out with a pop.

“Here I was about to claim you before fulfilling my responsibilities towards you. You taste much too good for me to pass up that.”

I looked at him confused. He grabbed the same fistful of my hair and brought me back to my feet. My heart sank a little into my stomach as he brought me over to Octavius and forced me down to sit on his lap. I watched in aroused shock as he spread my legs out, hooking my knees on my husband’s tied up fists.

The General got down on his knees before us.

"You're going to watch," he growled, his tone unyielding. "You're going to watch as I take your wife, right here in this temple, in front of Aphrodite herself. You're going to swallow your pride and accept the fact that you're no longer a man, but a mere pawn in my game."

Octavius' eyes blazed with a mixture of anger and humiliation, but he made no attempt to fight back or protest. He simply watched as General Acacius moved his face closer to my throbbing, desperate pussy.

He leaned in and swiped his tongue up my slit. It was like nothing else I had felt before, and I couldn’t help but cry out at the contact. I looked down at the General, his eyes meeting mine. He searched them for a moment before finding his answer.

“…your husband has never done this before…has he?” he inquired. My eyes widened and I shook my head no. The General tsked again, shaking his head before changing his steely gaze to my husband.

“You see, Octavius, your wife has been denied the touch of a true master, and it’s time she knows the pleasures that she has been missing out on all these years."

My heart skipped a beat as I felt his tongue begin to explore my folds, his touch sending waves of pleasure surging through me. I could feel my husband’s discomfort and jealousy, but I was too caught up in the sensation of the General's expert tongue to care. As he continued to lap away at my cunt, I couldn’t help but feel that I was becoming more and more his, being dominated by him in ways I never imagined possible.

I couldn’t help but cling to my husband, moaning as the General began to suck on my clit.

“Tell him how much you’re enjoying this, how your husband could never make you feel this way, or I’ll stop.”

I looked down at him just in time to watch him slap my wet pussy. I whimpered in response, but my pussy began to throb again.

“Your tongue feels so good,” I said, quietly.

“Louder.”

“I love the feeling of your tongue in my cunt,” I stated loudly. He smirked and began licking between my folds again, it aching and begging for release.

“God, you make me feel so fucking good General,” I started, speaking between moans, “My husband could never make me feel this good. His mouth could never compare to yours.”

As his tongue circled around my clit, all I could do was cry out in pleasure. My fingers instinctively reached down and tangled in his curly hair, giving me leverage to move against his face. I wasn't sure if this was breaking any rules, but my body couldn't resist its primal urges.

General Acacius hummed a low sound of praise, his eyes never leaving my face as he continued to lap at my delicate folds. I felt a surge of arousal in that moment, knowing that I was pleasing him, that I was experiencing an intensity I had never known before. My husband sat silent and still beneath me, his eyes wide with a mixture of jealousy and orgasmic envy.

The General's fingers slipped back inside me, stretching and teasing me as if he was preparing me for his entrance. His fingers were big and skilled, moving in and out of me with a rhythm that sent shivers down my spine. I moaned loudly, my voice echoing through the temple.

He smirked up at me, his eyes burning with lust and possession. “Do you want me to pleasure you, to make you reach the peak of ecstasy like never before?”

"Yes!" I practically sobbed, my hips bucking of their own accord. The feeling of his fingers inside me, teasing and stretching, was intoxicating.

General Acacius nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. "Then you must obey me."

I could feel my orgasm building, the waves of pleasure crashing over me like a tidal wave. "I will obey," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He pulled his fingers out of me without any warning, making me whimper loudly in protest. "Tell me, does your husband have any control over you now?"

"No," I panted, my hips still writhing in need. "You do."

“That’s what I thought.”

Hastily General Acacius lifted me up from my seat on my husband’s lap, bringing me back over to the altar where we had started this precarious ordeal. He helped me get up onto the cold marble slab, my body trembling with a mixture of arousal and nerves. My husband looked on, a mixture of anger and lust simmering in his eyes.

I watched as the General laid down and pulled me on top of him, positioning me to straddle his thick thighs.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice filled with satisfaction. “Now, show your husband what he has lost.”

As if in a trance, I slowly moved up so that I could lower myself onto his hard cock, feeling the resistance as I stretched to accommodate his girth. I cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

The room seemed to warp around us, time itself seeming to slow, as if the very air itself was witnessing our union. I could feel every vein, every ridge of General Acacius's cock as it filled me completely.

The General's hand slipped under my neck, supporting it as he thrust into me, causing me to gasp and cry out again. "That's it, take me, show him what he's missing."

My eyes met Octavius', his expression full of awe and desire. The General's eyes never left mine, guiding me, urging me on.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he moaned, his fingers digging into my neck as he began to move. Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through me, combined with a hint of pain that only added to the intensity. I arched my back, raising my chest to meet the General's lips, his tongue flicking against my nipple.

I could feel my orgasm building once more, the tension rising, as General Acacius continued to fuck me mercilessly. The rhythm was relentless, and I knew my husband could see the looks of ecstasy and submission on my face.

"That's right," General Acacius hissed, his voice growing hoarse as our passion consumed him. "You belong to me now. Your body, your desire, they all belong to me."

"Yes," I moaned, my voice strained. "Yes, I am yours."

The General's eyes flashed with satisfaction as he increased his pace, slamming into me with more force now. I cried out, my body shaking as the orgasm I had been craving finally washed over me. My hips bucked wildly, my nails digging into the General's shoulders as I screamed in pleasure.

Instead of stopping, my orgasm only egged him on more. The room became filled only with the sounds of our bodies moving together, the wet slap of skin against skin, and my cries. Before I had time to fully come down from my orgasm, I began crawling towards another.

"Yes, that's it," the General groaned, “come around my cock again.”

With just a simple command from him, my body complied without hesitation, the intensity of my second orgasm almost blinding me. The world shifted, and I knew, in that moment, that I had become someone else; someone now enslaved to General Acacius, completely unable to resist his touch.

The General's thrusts grew more urgent, and I could feel his cock pulsating inside me, each contraction sending me further into his grasp. My husband, unable to take it anymore, fought against his restrains to no avail, his anger and frustration consuming him.

"Stop!" he roared, "She's mine, you don't get to take her like this!"

General Acacius laughed darkly, his eyes never leaving mine as he pulled me off his cock, and setting me back down on his thighs. My body was limp from the ecstasy, my mind foggy from the rush of emotions.

"You see, Octavius," the General began as he addressed my husband, "I have been triumphant tonight. You have lost your wife to me, body and soul. The power dynamics have shifted, and I am now the one who rules over her."

My husband seethed, but his words were trapped in his throat. He knew that he had lost, and there was no turning back now.

As for me, my mind and body were still reeling from the intense experience. I felt less like a wife or a lover and more like General Acacius's possession, an object to be used and pleasured at his discretion. It was both thrilling and terrifying.

General Acacius looked up at me, his eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and desire. He helped me down off of the altar, guiding me over to my husband.

Willingly this time, I got down on my knees in front of General Acacius, much to Octavius’s dismay.

"Now, my dear Hebe, we must make sure your husband sees that I claim you properly,” he said, looking down at me, his jaw slack with lust.

I sat back on my heels looking up at my new master with wide eyes. His words sent shock waves down my spine, as I realized the implications of what he had just said. He wanted to assert his dominance over me, in front of my own husband.

"Yes, General," I replied softly, my voice trembling as I sought his approval. He smiled down at me, and then turned to Octavius, who glared at us from his restraints.

I watched with wild eyes as he wrapped a hand around his pulsating cock and began to stroke it. I breathed out a moan as I watched, anticipating what was to come.

"Will you release on me, General?" I asked, nibbling on my lower lip. His eyebrows lifted in shock, his expression transforming into one of pleasure. He nodded in response, apparently unable to get the words past his lips.

His pace on his cock sped up, eyes transfixed on me. I reached down and grabbed my breasts. I began to play with them as I looked back up at him, his face completely transfixed with lust.

"Yes, Hebe," General Acacius breathed, his voice thick and insistent. "You. Are. Mine."

With this declaration, he burst, releasing his seed all over my chest and face. The sheer volume of it was incredible, and it glistened in the dim temple light.

I couldn't help but feel a thrill of arousal as I watched the General's release. I felt a strange sense of triumph, too. I was the one who had made him lose control, who had made him submit to his own desires.

"Untie him," the General commanded, his voice holding a hint of dominance that I found incredibly erotic.

Without hesitation I went over to my husband and tugged at his restraints, my muscles weak and sore. Once my husband was freed he glared at General Acacius, a mixture of anger and desire in his eyes. "You can't do this to me," he said, his voice shaking with rage.

The General simply smiled. "Oh, but I can. And I did."

I watched as he beckoned my husband closer, and he slowly approached, his face a mixture of shock and betrayal. He beckoned me over with his other hand, his expression softer towards me. Once over to them, General Acacius reached out and grabbed the back of Octavius's neck, pulling his face close into mine.

"Kiss her," he ordered, his voice deep and commanding. I was still covered in his seed, my lips included.

Octavius hesitated for a moment, his face a perfect picture of conflict. But then he leaned in and reluctantly pressed his lips against mine, his tongue probing deeply and swirling the seedy taste of General Acacius around my mouth. I could sense the betrayal in his kiss. And as he continued to kiss me, I couldn't help but despise it. All I wanted was the General's kiss, craving it with every fiber of my being.

"Control yourself," the General warned. "Show her who the real man is, and prove to her that you are worthy of her respect."

Octavius released me and turned toward General Acacius, his eyes blazing with determination. "You have no idea what you've done," he growled. "But this ends now."

He turned on his heel and bolted for the door we had entered through, leaving me with General Acacius naked and used.

The General watched my husband leave, his expression dark and intense. "You did the right thing," he said softly, "but now it's time to get cleaned up."

I looked down at myself, still covered in his release, feeling slightly embarrassed and vulnerable. I tried to wipe it off, but it was too much for me to handle alone. That's when the General stepped forward, his eyes soft and gentle now.

"Let me help you," he offered, his voice filled with tenderness.

I nodded, feeling both grateful and aroused by his willingness to care for me in this intimate way. He carefully scooped up some water from one of the basins nearby and began washing me, his hands gentle and steady.

As he cleaned me, I couldn't help but feel closer to him than before. It was a strange sensation, given the intensity of our passions and the taboo nature of our position.

Gently he helped me put my tunic back on, wrapping my palla around me skillfully. Once I was dressed, he captured my face in his hands. His eyes bore deep into mine, his face gentle and caring. I would have never expected this side of him, but I was completely enamored by it.

"You did well, Hebe," he whispered, his eyes never leaving mine. "You are a true conqueror in your own right."

I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at his praise, and a tinge of sadness at the thought of leaving his side.

"What's next?" I asked, a hint of trepidation in my voice.

General Acacius smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief and desire.

“Whatever we want, Hebe,” he told me, “I promise you this: You are mine now, and I will protect you at all costs."

#marcus acacius #general marcus acacius #marcus acacius smut #marcus acacius x female reader #pedro pascal #marcus acacius fanfiction #gladiator ii #gladiator fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #ppcu fanfiction #pedrostories

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probablyintensemuses · 3 months

Text

Tiny Little Good Things-

A. Aretas

PAIRING: ARMANDO X READER

synopsis: You and Armando get sent on a mission to stop a vicious drugs and arms dealer. Chaos ensues and you two find out why the lines between love and hate are constantly blurring for you both.

theme(s): eventual smut (+18), gore and blood, cursing, graphic imagery, angst, enemies to lovers, Armando is a dick and really hot when he speaks Spanish.

warnings: there is smut in this fic as well as many bloody scenes, if you can’t handle either, I wouldn’t read on!

authors note: hi, yes I know this fic is long as shit, but I felt it was necessary for what unfolds. There is more than 12k words here, so sorry to all my short attention span people. ❤️love you, k bye!

word count: 12.5k

“Ramos Malik, age thirty-seven and Miami’s biggest up and coming arms and drug dealer.’ Kelly says, fingers gracing her iPad as she swivels through pictures, displaying them on the plasma screen ahead.

“He’s a big fucking problem. 3D printing' slugs that are hitting the streets faster than crack in the seventies.’ Mike Lowery, head of AMMO, interjects. “Shells the size of a thumbs, sharper than lions teeth, are being pulled out of rival gang members, bystanders, and law enforcement all around the city.”

You turn in your chair, pushing away from your computer screen. “So, how do we stop him?”

Dorn rounds the steel table, a slab of guns, gear, and tech, gently taking the iPad from Kelly’s hand, and you don’t miss the way she blushes. It’s cute, those two. Kelly and you had grown close ever since you joined AMMO as their new technical analyst months ago. Dorn gave up the position, wanting to be present in the field—mostly to have Kelly’s six—he and his therapist had been making great progress and he felt it was time to be more than the brawny guy in the chair.

So that lead to you taking over and eventually many girls nights full of red wine, cheese, and pillow talking. A slip of a wine-jaded tongue later and you were the first on the team to know of their love affair. Sometimes you desired to have that of your own, but life and fate, as Marcus would say, hadn’t given that to you yet.

“Good question, followed by an even better answer.’ Dorn sails and the screen changes and a new scene plays. “This is Moxy, a new club on the strip. It’s where Ramos Malik and his crew hang out. Rumor has it he’ll be there tonight, and we're going to bind him with a sting.”

Intrigued you stand. “You need me to make inconspicuous body cams, don’t you?’ You gasp and breath deeply, a smile spreading on your face. “God I love it when you guys want me to make inconspicuous body cams.”

Dorn coughs and Kelly looks off to the side, biting at her nails. Mike walks over slowly, slapping a hand onto both your shoulders.

“Now, we know how much our sweet little, non-violent, girl here loves to just stay in her lane and chill here while we get into all the bloody action.’ Mike massages your shoulders, displaying you off to the group like a fresh piece of wagyu. You scan the crew's faces—mischief, panic, fear—but the one that snipes you the most is the one of Armando Aretas. He sits perched on a table on the far side of the room, combat boot clad feet planted on a chair as his brown eyes pierce into you, sending tiny, invisible sparks flocking on your skin. You suck in a sharp breath and look away. He always stared, so why did it bother you now?

When your ears finally stop buzzing, you dial back into Mike's speech. “But this time, it’ll be different. You’ll be out in the field.”

As if you were just tased, you jut away from his grip. “What?”

“Ramos can sniff cops a mile away. It’s what makes him so good at what he does.’ Marcus cuts in. “He knows our faces, too. The only face he doesn’t know, is yours.”

You take another step back, heart racing, completely stupefied. “So you want me to go and trick that bastard…by myself?!”

“No! Never!” Mike says. “Armando will be with you.”

A clatter echos through the room, all eyes snapping to where Armando was sitting, the little black stool wobbling on the floor. “The fuck I will!” He growls.

Your eyes narrow and you jut your chin up. What the hell was he so mad for?

“Okay, son, calm down. It’s a simple sting operation. If you’re careful, it’s an in-and- out kind of thing.”

Armando circles close, and out of habit you cower behind the wall of Mike and Dorn. You may have a high IQ but you’re no match physically for anyone on this team, especially not Armando. You’ve seen what he can do countless times. He was the silent beast, he always just stared and hardly spoke. No matter how much you tried to warm up to him, make him feel accepted, you two just never clicked.

You thought it might just be his past, how he was manipulated by his father and lied to by his mother, that made him so closed off, but with the way fury rumbles off of him so strong right now, pushing you deeper into Dorn and Mike, it makes you think there’s more unspoken. And if so, what?

Caged between Mike and Dorn Armando finds your eyes again, scolding your cheeks hot with his glare. It was as if he needed you to not only hear his words but feel them too. “I’m not going on any mission with the princesa. All she does is type and sit in that fucking chair all day. It’ll be suicide.”

Mike takes his son's shoulder, massaging them similar to how he’d done your own. “She’s the only choice right now, okay? She’s just the arm candy to fill out the picture we’re setting for Malik, alright?”

For some reason his words— “just the arm candy?”and “the only choice right now,” —sting. You may not be skilled in the field or in combat, but you were vital to this team and you spent months trying to prove your strengths otherwise. When you first joined the team, everyone insisted on making you their baby bird, some wounded thing they needed to protect in a gilded cage. You were the new young and stary-eyed cop, and they are all jaded-old bags who need someone to shelter. It happened authentically and you still couldn’t shake the box they put you in. You aren’t helpless, you are capable and strong and maybe this is what you need, an opportunity outside to finally prove yourself.

“If he doesn’t want to do it, I’m sure there is someone else in the field we can find.’ A surge of confidence flushes through you as you push past the Mike-Dorn barricade, chin help up high with defiance as you brush past Armando. “Whatever the case, I’ll do it. I can do it. I’m capable Mike, so let’s see my cover.”

A smirk peels on Kelly’s face as she passes you your file. “Okay, Ms. Bad-ass. I’m loving this energy.”

Armando scoffs, planting himself next to you, his broad shoulders brush up against your frail ones. The slight gesture sends a hear through you. Quickly you scoot away, no need to sweat through a perfectly good cardigan over mean-ass Armando Aretas.

You flip through your file. You’ll be playing Jenna Combs. A twenty-six year old dancer and model who is the new girlfriend of—

“You hijos de puta’s got me playing myself?” Armando argues. “What kind of shit disguise is that?”

Dorn shrugs. “It’s not. That’s the point. The Aretas name is still feared and no one knows you’re in with the cops. It’s a pretty believable story, you need new armory and he can supply it.”

“Last anyone in this circles heard, you was killing cops and slinging a new dope empire. Just get em’ to confess to making this bullets and where he does it, so we can get em’ off the streets for good.” Marcus chimes in with a smile.

Armando’s grumbles a few curses under his breath before his attention turns and latches onto you. Suddenly you feel hot again, like a solar flares are swallowing you whole. Armando’s eyes rack over your form, slow and tentative.

His gaze latches onto your lips before he says, “And she’s supposed to be my date? Suicide mission.”

“For who? You or me? Because the way I see it, with your attitude you’ll be made in minutes.”

The gap between you and Armando closes in an instant. Your faces mere inches from each other. His cool breath trickles down the crest of your neck and frosts the tips of your ears when he whispers, “Careful when you speak to me, Princesa. You’ll be alone out there with me, and anything could happen to you.”

Was he…threatening you?

Your balls must have really dropped in the matter of minutes, because instead of keeping quiet and apologizing, like you normally would if you managed to anger Armando, you bite back.

“Stop calling me that.” You grit your teeth.

“¿Por qué, eh?’ Armando whispers, pulling back from you and taking a seat on a nearby stool. His eyes are drunk with a flavor you can’t distinguish. “Only princesas get to sit up in their castle all day, shielded, while everyone else goes out and does all the heavy lifting.”

“I never asked to be shielded!’ You stamp your foot, moving in on him with a swiftness. Armando invites your challenge with grace, folding his muscular arms slowly over his wide chest, watching you stalk nearer.

You don’t know how, but you find yourself in between him, his legs two thick gates around you. Where it should bother you, in the moment it doesn’t because It’s your turn to invade his space. In this moment, the great Armando Aretas doesn’t scare you.

You poke at his chest with each syllable. “Rather you like it or not, Aretas, this princesa is going on this sting with or without you, and I don’t give a shit what you think, not anymore. Cool?”

A small smirk pulls on his face as he peels your finger off his chest, the digit so small in his his hand, his movements making you keenly aware of your closeness.

“Cool.” He stands, boxing you in with his large build before brushing past you and walking out of the compound.

You watch as the last bits of daylight leave with him as the door slams closed. This confidence was like adrenal coursing through you and suddenly you felt tired and zapped, being strong is exhausting. You take a seat, pulling at a loose curl atop your head, thoughts burrowing into your mind like a splinter.

To this day, you couldn’t understand the hatred he had for you. In the begging, when Mike had negotiated a deal with the D.A’s office and the department to allow Armando to work for AMMO, not wanting his raw talents to go to waste, no one trusted him. But still, you gave him a chance, because you knew how it felt to be the underdog and you didn’t want the same for him. Still, in his own fashion, he warmed up to the others…but never to you. But maybe he was right, everyone else here has put so much of themselves of the line, risked it all for the greater good, and what have you done? Nothing. You haven’t saved anyone or changed a life. You’ve sat and watched from the comforts of the compound. Their eyes and ears, that’s all.

You push to standing and gather your file. You may not be the strongest, or fastest on the team, but you had strengths and you’d make use of them tonight for once, no matter what.

Suddenly snickers and chuckle fill the room, bouncing off the walls of your mind and bringing you back to the room glazed with the smell of oil and pinesol.

Marcus breaks through the laughter. “Next time you two want to engage in some foreplay, ask for the room first.”

Your skin nearly peels off at his words. You could burn alive right now.

You and Armando?

“Never would that ever happen.” You shiver at the thought of being with any man, let alone him.

Armando is a mean man. A mean man you suddenly have to trust you life with.

But if that’s the case. Why does your heart not fall to your feet at the thought?

###

“You’ve memorized your role, right?” Kelly asks, tightening the final fixings of your dress.

“Yes,’ you nod. “I’m Armando’s new girlfriend, Jenna. I don’t speak, I just sit quietly and listen. I shadow him, basically. Anything he does, I do.”

“Good girl.’ Kelly winks. “One last thing.’ She digs into her pockets before brandishing a small knife. “Here, just in case things go south.”

Your eyes widen and you nearly flinch. “I thought you and Mike said this was an easy in-and-out kind of deal.”

Kelly sighs. “Nothing like this is ever easy. All things have the potential to go south.’ She grabs your face in her hands. “I just want my girl safe, that’s all.”

Reluctantly, you accept the knife, shoving it into your purse. “What about Armando? Isn’t he supposed to protect me—I mean Jenna?”

“And he will,” Kelly assures. “But you can never be too sure.”

You nod. “Right, whose to say he won’t abandon me if shit oops off,” your snicker is laced with fear.

Kelly walks you out of the compound and toward the front where you’ll be meeting the rest of the team. “He won’t. Trust me.”

“He did allude to it early, Kels.”

Kelly rolls her eyes, stopping you and giving your curls one last fluff. “Aretas is all talk when it comes to you, don’t take him for a grain of salt.”

You frown. “What’s that supposed to be mean.”

Kelly smirks. “See for yourself.”

She steps out of the way and in the shinning exterior of Mikes Ferrari, you see yourself.

Do you look like a slut, yes, but nonetheless gorgeous.

Your curls are loose and defined, a cascade of shea butter and hibiscus around you. Your makeup is layered, yet light, elevating your high cheekbones, wide lips, and honey-brown eyes. And your plum colored dress pops against your warm-brown skin, somehow making even your thin body look full and figured.

You look fucking hot.

And for the first time in forever, you feel fucking hot.

Apparently you’re not the only one who thinks so as a whistle breaks loose in the yard.

“Goddamn girl!’ Mike claps. “If I wasn’t some old dog, I’d ask you on a date myself.”

“I’ll keep my comments to myself,’ Marcus smiles. “You know Theresa be listening.” He looks over his shoulders, head on a swivel.

“Dorn don’t say a word.” Kelly scolds her boyfriend, Dorn holds his hands up in defense.

“Staying silent.” He whimpers.

Your cheeks flush. “Stop, you guys.” You giggle. “This was all Kelly, besides you know I look better in a cardigan and jeans.”

“I agree.” A voice emerges from the darkness. A wide berth breaks before you as Armando strolls over.

Your throat goes dry and suddenly your head is dizzy with a feeling hard to explain, as you take him in.

He’s fresh with a new hair cut, faded low on the sides and thick, raven black up top. His beard is full and more manicured, enunciating the sharp cuts of his jaw.

He’s graced in a suit, black-on-black. The undershirt unbuttoned exposing much of his chiseled chest and the gold, cross necklace that dangles there. His suit jacket fits perfectly over the swells of his biceps and his pants expose every aching muscle in his thigh.

Like gravity, it’s hard to pull your eyes away from him. But somehow you become the void of space and manage to.

You can’t say the same for him though, because despite his insults that same burning, tingling sensation finds its way tip-toeing down your back and to the swell of your ass. One quick spin and you catch Armando’s eyes lifting from your backside to face you.

“I thought I looked better in a cardigan?” You say, breathing heavy.

Was he just? No…

Armando swings open the passenger door for you. “Get in.” He grumbles.

Not wanting to test his patience, you oblige, taking a step into the Farrier.

Armando closes the door behind you before climbing into the passenger side.

At the window, Mike approaches.

“Get in ask Ramos about the bullets, say you heard about them from word of mouth and you’re interested in them. You’ll pay top dollar. Once he confirms he can give them to you, we’ll move in. Got it?” Mike explains to Armando before turning his attention to you. “And for you, just be silent, pretty, and say nothing, okay?”

“Won’t be hard for her.” Armando grumbles as he starts the car.

You roll your eyes, ignoring his comment. “You guys will tail us, right.”

Dorn nods. “You should be fine though, you’ve got Armando.”

Armando reeves the engine, slowly idling off and away from your friends. And for some reason, when you whip off, you can’t help but wonder if he was right. This was a suicide mission, just not for him.

Fuck.

###

The drive is silent and smooth. You really could see why Mike insisted on such expensive cars, they rode well.

Your heel-clad feet tap against the bottom of the car, humming a tune in your head, making you realize just how much this ride needed some music.

Slowly, you turn to face Armando. His eyes are focused on the long road ahead, his jaw is clenched and he doesn’t seems to be paying you the slightest bit of attention.

As smooth as you can be you carefully lift your hand up and turn on the radio. Soon enough Ariana Grandes, The Boy is Mine, blasts from the radio.

You squeal and find a small groove with your fingers against your purse, humming the lyrics and bopping your head to the beat. The song is just reaching its second run through the chorus when the radio goes dead.

You turn, seeing Armando’s hand leaking from the controls. Annoyed, you give him a look before turning the radio back on, louder this time.

Armando’s jaw clenches tighter, like he might actually collapse through it with his bite force. He slams the radio off…again.

This time you don’t bite your tongue.

“Would you stop doing that!” You shout.

“No.”

“Why not? I was listening to that.”

“I don’t care. I need to focus.” Armando grumbles.

“Focus on what?”

“I don’t know, Princesa, making sure we both come out of this alive, because I damn sure can’t count on you to do that.”

His words bite, but if he wants to play a snake you have venom for him. “Why don’t you like me, huh? What have I ever done to you?” You hide.

Armando stays silent, his knuckles whitening as his grip strengthens on the steering wheel.

You snap at him. “I’m not talking to myself, Armando. Why do you hate me, huh?!”

“Cállte!” He shouts

You don't know much Spanish, but you’ve heard him say it enough to know it’s time to walk away from the conversation.

So you do, resting your head against the window seal, counting the number of streetlights you see flash and shimmer as you zoom by.

When you were younger your mother couldn’t afford fancy candles so she used a flashlight instead. You imagine the streetlights as just that, wishing that one day you’d know what you did to anger Armando so much.

Not soon enough, the car comes to a halt. The only sounds filling the cabin are those of Armando undoing his seatbelt.

Annoyed, you don’t even look at him as he speaks. All he’s done is tear you down in the past few hours, you’re done giving him the energy you need to conserve.

“When we go inside, don’t say a word. I don’t care how many questions he throws your way, you don’t say shit. Am I clear?”

Slowly, you turn towards him. Your mouth is scrunched and your eyes filled with no sympathy for the devil in front of you.

“Crystal.” You whisper, venom leaking off your tongue as you speak.

Armando’s chest rises and falls as he takes in your anger. He squeezes Mikes keys between his hands, and you you really do your best to ignore the heat that unfurls inside of you when he bites his plump lip between his teeth and runs a hand over his dark, full beard.

You adjust in your seat, because despite his constant cold front, It looks as if he has something to say. You wait in contemplating silence, the only sounds in the cabin being your breathing and Armando’s hesitant taps on the keys.

Part of you just wants to go in a get this over with and never speak to him again, but another part is desperate for him to say something meaningful to you. Something like the things you say to him before a mission.

“Don’t die.”

“Come back in one piece.”

“Be careful.”

“We should all have pizza when you come back.”

You knew how scary things could get on missions and you just wanted your team to know you were there, to take away even a slither of the darkness clouding them in that moment. And for your first time, you thought Armando might do the same—say something meaningful—but he doesn’t.

In a flash he’s out of the car, handing the keys over to valet, threatening them about what will happen if any scratches and dents are found.

You take in a deep breath and look down at the camera, disguised as a gold necklace resting above the cut of your breast.

“You guys getting all this?” You whisper, stepping out of the car.

“Do you mean Moxy, or your fight with Hotmando?” Dorn says over the earpiece.

You come to a halt. “Shit, I’m sorry guys. I’ll keep it professional, okay. From here on out, I won’t let him get to me…that’s not what’s important.”

“Good, get in and come back to us. I need my girl and our wine down Sundays.” Kelly says.

You smile, making your way over to wear Armando stands at the mouth of the nightclub, hoping he heard your words.

The sour look on his face as you walk through the door he holds open for you—sure to flip my hair as you do, giving him a nice taste of your leave in conditioner—tells you he certainly did, and perhaps he didn’t like what you had to say, but nonetheless…

He wont bother you anymore. Not tonight, at least.

Inside Moxy tore hit with a wave of a scent that nearly makes you gag—weed, sweat, and criminal activity. The club its self is large in scale, high ceilings with rope dancers stringing off the tops and flashing red and blue lights melting to make a purple haze over the club. Smoke and bubble guns are in constant effect and you’re pretty sure you can feel the bass of Wiz Khalifa’s Black and Yellow in your thoracic cavity.

From what you can see there are three floors, the first and second appear to be where the actual clubbing takes place. You watch the sweaty bodies corralled into dance floors, babbling nonsense either too drunk or too high for their own good.

But above, on the third, it is caged in and covered by glass. Yellow lights, different from the multi-colored ones below, remain at a halt and big , burly men with guns at their hips wander the halls. No doubt looking to take out any threat that comes for their boss—Ramos Malik.

“The glass. It’s bullet proof.” Armando says, eyeing the scene above, just as you do.

You would praise him for the impressive catch. But you’re Jenna now, and Jenna doesn’t speak.

“Any sign of Malik?” Mike asks.

“Not yet,’ Armando places a hand on the small of your back, making you flinch. “But we’re about to find out.”

Never moving his hands from your waist, Armando guides the two of you through the sweaty pillage of bodies and towards the elevators.

The ride up is quick, quiet. That’s not shocking. But what is shocking, as soon as the elevator comes to a screeching halt, Armando grabs your hand in his, completely engulfing your own with his size.

The burning sensation wraps up your wrist and shoots straight to your cheeks where you flush.

“What are you doing?” You gasps, trying to pull away. You did not sign up for this kind of role play.

Armando turns to look at you. “If you’re my girlfriend, we’ve got to play the part. Other than that you just look like someone who I brought out on a hit with me.” He squeezes your hand.

You suck in a deep breath at the motion, looking away.

“What’s wrong, princesa? This too much for you?” For a second, you thought he meant the fact that he was holding your hand, and in that case he wouldn’t be wrong, but soon enough the doors open and you shortly realize what he means.

The two burly men from early, dapper in black and white suits, wait outside the elevator, fingers in the triggers of their guns.

“Aretas.’ They nod, tuning your attention to you. “Whose this?”

“My girl, Jenna.” Armando says, gruffly.

One of the men nods, motioning you forward. You swallow, backing up a bit, hesitant on what to do.

Armando nudges you forward. “Esta bien bebe.”

You nod and walk towards them. They grab you up, calloused hands running up and down your body, and your pretty sure they linger to long on your untouchables on purpose.

Sweat begins to pile in your hands as a thought burst into your mind. What would happen if they found the knife Kelly gave you? She’d shoved it in a pretty good spot, but still, these guys were being thorough…and not in a good way.

You make eye contact with Armando as one of the guards continues to fill you up with what feels like excessive force.

In a blur, Armando pushes off the wall with his foot, slapping a hand on the guards shoulder.

“She’s clear, eh?”

The guard nods.

Armando grips his collar and pulls him in close. “The why the fuck are you still touching her, hm?”

The guard swallows, fear evident in his eyes.

“Just covering the bases, that’s all, sir.” He whimpers.

“Cover the bases again like that with my girl, and I’ll cut your fucking hand off and feed it to your other fat fuck of a friend.” Armando notions to the guard behind.

The guard nods and swallows, caressing his hand.

“The boss is this way,” he guides us with a motion.

Armando grips your hand once more, leading your down the long hallway.

“You okay?” He asks, holding his gaze forward.

You look up at him, even in heels he still manages to be taller than you. “Don’t pretend to care.” You scoff.

That makes him halt, conjoined with him you have no choice but to face each other. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, yet no words come out.

You roll your eyes, looking past his shoulders. Inside the bright room, you can see a shadow of Ramos. “Let’s just get this over with.” You say.

Armando’s gaze lingers on your longer than you’d like, giving you the shivers despite the fire leaking off him.

Soon enough, he pushes open the door and you follow behind him.

The room is small, club girls linger around either serving drinks or being felt up on. Ramos’s men, stand at each corner of the room searching for the next threat to their boss. Luckily they haven’t figured it is you yet.

“Armando Aretas,” Ramos claps his hands, jumping off of the white couch he’s sat on.

He stalks over, cigar between his lips, and you take him in. He is nowhere near as stalky as Armando, and his curly blonde hair is put up into a bun, exposing the undercut beneath. You can’t catch the colors of his eyes because they are covered by dark, Fendi shades.

His business definitely makes money, and lots of it. His three piece black and burgundy suit screams it all.

“To what do I owe such great pleasures?” He bows, lifting your hand up and placing a kiss on the back. “That goes for you too, sugar.”

Armando squeezes your hand a bit tighter at the pet name. You want to bite back and tell him to go easy, but you’re on stage now, and for your own safety and his, it’s best if you don’t break the act.

“I’m in the business of buying something from you. Streets are hot down in Mexico right now, and I need to establish some new territories…with a little force.” Armando says smoothly, sometimes you forget he was a hardened criminal not too long ago.

Ramos clicks his tongue between his teeth. “Ah. Come sit.” He motions you two over to one of his coaches.

“Good job. Keep em’ talking.” Mike says over the coms.

Armando takes a seat across from Ramos and you do the same.

A chuckle leaves Ramos’s lips. “I don’t think your pet likes you very much,” he motions to the space between you two.

Armando smacks his lips. “Nonsense. Ven aquí, bebé.”

You swallow and scoot towards him. When you’re close enough, in one swift moment, Armando’s slips you in his lap, running a rough hand up and down the exposed parts of your thigh, sending shivers down your spine and goosebumps all over your body.

What the hell was happening.

Ramos chuckles, pouring himself and Armando a drink. He pushes it across the glass table, just out of reach.

Armando gives your ass a light slap, you turn and flare your nose, giving him your best “don't push it,” it glare.

He ignores it.

“Tráeme eso, mamá.” He says, motioning towards the glass.

You pick up the tumbler, suddenly realizing what he’s playing at. Ramos is watching because he isn't convinced. So you suck up your pride and do some convincing.

You grip Armando by his chin, rubbing the pad of your thumb in circles over his gruff beard before putting the glass against his lips, assisting him as he drinks.

Never once do his eyes leave you as he swallows the amber liquid, and the shivers that were once in your spine travel lower, much lower. You have to blink away the awful, dirty thoughts of you being in place of the glass out of your mind as you swipe away the spillage off his beard and plump, pink lips.

When you turn, Ramos’ shoulders drop and his smile is so wide it’s nearly reckless.

“So you’re in the business of buying my most popular product from me?”

“That’s right.” Armando says, a hand still caressing you slow and smooth.

“I am curious, though,’ Ramos takes a swig of his drink. “How did you hear about it?”

Armando shifts, the movement forcing you closer to his center. Your eyes go wide as saucers, your new position doing nothing for the growing pain massing within your heat.

“I’m an Aretas. Nothing in the streets goes past my ears…nothing.” Armando's confidence radiates off of him.

“Very well,” Ramos chuckles. “Let’s establish two parameters of this deal, then. One, you pay me before I give you any product. Two, you get caught with my product, you don’t tell a soul who you the fuck got it from. Sounds good?” He smiles.

Armando nods. “Just one thing,’ his hands enclose over your hips, sliding you off to the side, as he leans forward. “How do you make them? The bullets.”

Ramos frowns. “Why? You trying to steal my swag or something, Aretas?”

Armando chuckles. “Nah, just curious.”

“Feed his ego, he’s going to talk.” Kelly says.

“I mean, they're sharp, large, fast, quiet. It’s impressive. I just want to know how you do it before I invest any of my money into it.” Armando leans back, arms spread in a wide arch on the back of the couch.

“In our world now, with a little money, the right connections, and a fuck ton of fortitude, anything you can think of is a possibility.’ Ramos says, lighting another cigar. “It’s rare and hard to get everything right. But if you really want to know how I do it,’ he leans in, voice dropping to a whisper.

Armando does the same, you make the conscious effort not to. Instead you play with your necklace, making sure the camera catches his face and his face only when he confesses.

“It’s a three—,”

A sudden buzz swallows the conversation whole, swirling it down the dirty sink it had come up from. The buzz echoes once more before you realize where it comes from…your purse

Fuck.

Ramos straightens, likes a dog on guard, eyeing you fiercely. Your chest rises and falls with a weight heavier than gravity as your ringtone continues to blare out for everyone to hear.

Ramos licks his lips, like he’s hungry for what comes next. “Well don’t be shy, Ms. Jenna, answer the phone.”

You swallow and tuck a curl behind your ear. “I don’t think that’s appropriate right now. Let’s just finish up the deal—“

In a blur of fury, Ramos stands brandishing a gun, pointing it right at your chest.

“Make you perra answer the fucking phone, or I put holes in you both.”

“Answer the phone,” Mike calls to you. “Do what he asks.”

Armando gives you a cautious look as you slip your phone out of your purse. Your fingers are shaking, so answering takes a few tries but when you finally do get it, you see that it’s your sister calling.

“Make sure it’s on speaker too.” Ramos demands, clocking his gun.

You inhale deeply, press the speaker button, then answer, “Hey, sister, this isn’t really a good time.”

“Hey, I know you’re probably working late and all, but this is kind of important. My routers are not really working and I have a date with that guy, David, I told you about and I really need my tv to work.” She explains.

You bite your lip and lick the sweat that forms around them. “Have you tried turning your tv on and off again? You know I’m not really a whiz at that tech stuff.”

A pause, then your sister erupts in laughter. “Girl, are you high?’ She laughs. “You’ve been messing with wires and the internet since we were kids. That’s the whole reason twelve wanted you anyways”

Your hear sinks the moment she says those words, you hang up because the last thing you want is for your sister to hear you die.

“Well fuck me, Jenna, I’ll be damned.” Ramos growls, pushing his gun into your skull.

You pierce your eyes shut, brace for the burning impact of the bullet and pray for a quick death.

But it never happens, instead in a swift motion Armando pushes you off to the side causing you to collapse onto the ground. He makes a quick sweep of his leg, sending Ramos crashing onto his ass and the bullet that was meant for you soaring up and hitting the rafters, lodging into some wood.

Your breath is heavy as you watch all out war unfold before you. Armando takes on five men at once. The first man takes two tumblers over the head and one shard of glass to the neck, scarlett liquid oozing from the wound before he drops like dead weight beside you.

You let out a scream, backing away from the scene that moves like a riptide before you.

“Get out of there, now!” Kelly screams in your ear.

“I—I can’t just leave him!” You shout back.

“You have no training! We’re coming in, go, now!” Mike yells.

You gather yourself, undoing your heels, still watching Armando skillfully take out guys and keep clear of the gunshots that ring in the tiny room. You watch as he dropkicks one man, then shoots him in the face before stalking over to another man, dishing out a few punches, before finally gutting him with a knife.

He’s still on the move when you finally slip out of your heels. More of Ramos’s men are filing in and the fight expands,moving from the small room you were just in into the hallway where any innocent person could be hurt.

Unlike most times you weren’t in your gilded chair. You were in the field and you would help as many people as you could. So, you don’t think, you let the adrenaline cloud you as you bound down the hallway in hopes to get back downstairs and direct clubbers from the chaos.

Setting the golden elevator in your sites, you push faster. People below were already screaming, running wild. Who knows what could happen? How many people could be trampled and hurt. This only fuels you, quickening your stride. You nearly make it but a gunshot slows you, and the body of a bleeding girl drops before you, putting you into a full halt.

“Oh my god,” your voice is breathy and shaky.

“Why are you still in there!” Dorns’ voice becomes a far void as you rip at the bottom of your dress and use the fabric to compress her wound.

Two gunshots to the chests. The girl, who can’t be any older than yourself, gurgles blood which sprays onto her porcelain skin and leaks into her brown hair, sticking strands to the marble floor.

The girl coughs, sending blood splattering onto the side of your face, and claws at your arms, streaks of crimson standing out against your brown skin.

She murmurs, but it’s hard to hear.

You press deeper into her wounds. “Shh, it’ll be alright,’ You tell her “guys, I need a medic on the third floor when you get here. She’s…she’s in really bad shape.” You whimper.

The girl whines again, her eyes open and closing in two second intervals.

she raises her arm pointing a shaking finger in the direction behind you.

You wipe your eyes, blood no doubt trailing on your face now.

“What?” You croak. “What is it?” You turn around and see Ramos Malik limping over to you, a large knife in his hand.

You stand, putting distance between him, yourself and the girl.

“You’re a real bitch, you know that?’ An injured Ramos says, limping toward you with his knife pointed. “Trying to get me caught up in some trap, but you weren’t even smart enough to shut off your phone!” He screams, lunging at you with the knife.

You tumble backwards, your back and head hitting the marble floor with the weight of you both. You cry out as pain sears through you, especially your hand.

It takes you a moment of readjusting to the bright lights and sounds to realize why. You caught the fucking knife in your hand.

You scream, as Ramos pulls it from your palm in a slice. Your hand open and bleeding, you cry out and roll away from another vicious attack by Ramos.

He growls and lunges at you again, grabbing a tuft full of your curls. You beat at his legs with your good hand, squirming in his grip. He pulls at your hair, making you scream, lowering his knife to your neck, pressing inward.

You let out an animalistic scream, pressing your thumb into the oozing wound on his leg. He screeches, falling to his knees.

Wasting no time, you crawl away.

You think you’ve gotten far enough.

You rise up on your knees and push the elevator button, but the cold hand on your ankle snatches you back.

You claw at the marble floors, leaving a trail of blood, as Ramos drags you like a rag doll. He stops, flipping you over and planting his weight on top of you.

You flail, kicking the ground and scratching at his face, desperate for him to let go. But he doesn’t. Instead, he cages you with his legs and wraps both hands around your neck, applying so much pressure that your vision blurs.

Under his grip, your breaths become distant and faint. Your muscles relax, and your eyes bulge. Turning your head to the side, you can barely make out the flashing blue and red lights from outside.

The team is here. But you're not sure they'll find you in time because Ramos is relentless, and the air in your lungs is vanishing. Your skull feels like it’s being crushed, the pressure intense.

You feel yourself slipping away, losing focus on your surroundings. Ramos moves your head to face him, and he’s a mass of incoherent clouds above you, the only clear thing are his dark, empty eyes.

“Look at me, baby. I like my victims to look at me before they die,” he growls, spit slipping from his mouth. “I hope Aretas finds you like—”

Ramos drops, and oxygen rushes back into your lungs like a clap of thunder.

You shudder on the ground, scraping at your neck and slapping your chest.

Warm hands engulf your cheeks, and it takes a minute for the blur to leave your vision. When it does, you see Armando before you, a smoking gun at his side.

“¿Estás bien, mamá?”

His voice barely registers before oxygen slips from your lungs again, and you slump over, hitting the ground.

Armando scoops you up, and even though it should be a relief, you can’t help but be saddened by the way your team jumps over the girl you couldn’t save.

Darkness swallows you whole as your team swarms you and Armando.

###

“The stitches will dissolve on their own in time as your wound heals itself.’ Kelly says, tightening the last of the bandages on the hand Ramos had sliced.

“Thanks, Kelly.’ You smiled softly, rubbing at the soreness that still lingered all over your body, especially your neck.

Ramos and his men had been arrested, not on the charges the team had planned, but still, getting him locked away for attempted murder of a police officer and soliciting drugs would have to be good enough for now.

Kelly rubs your shoulders, a soft sigh leaving her lips. “I’m really sorry this happened to you,’ she says, eyeing your injuries, the bandages on your knees and hands, the purple-ish bruise on your neck, and the small scratches and scrapes all over your body. You definitely weren’t as hot as you were that night.

“It’s okay.” You smile. “I’m still here, so.” You shrug.

“You were brave that night, saving that girl. We’re all so proud of you.” Kelly says.

You shake your head. “But I didn't save her, Kels. She died. Right there, she bled out.’ Tears start to rim your eyes as the memories of the girl and her blood in your hands flare in your mind. “Fuck,” you cover your eyes with your palms. “I could hardly save myself that night…if it wasn’t for Armando, I’d be dead.”

You sniffle, taking a seat on a nearby stool. “I’m not cut of for the field, and I don’t think I should ever do it again.”

Kelly swarms you. “No. Don’t say that.’ She shakes her head. “We’ve all been there, helpless, but that’s why we’re a team. We cover each other's six when shit gets rough. So don’t feel bad, we won’t let you.”

You nod slowly, trying to let her words penetrate your soul so that you could really believe them. But right now, you couldn’t. You put everyone at risk because you made a rookie mistake by leaving your phone on.

You were to blame for all the carnage, all the bloodshed and chaos.

Armando was right, it was a suicide mission. And it was all your fault.

Kelly’s phone ringing thrusts you out of your thoughts.

She reads the screen number and looks at you. 'I got to go,’ she motions. “But if you need me, call me, seriously.”

You nod and wave her goodbye. You turn and fully expect to hear the compound's heavy, steel doors slam shut and lock, but they never do.

On high alert you turn and meet eyes with Armando. He’s in his typical black on black, head to toe. The only thing different about him is the white bandage covering the bulge of his arm.

You try not to stare too hard at the way his black shirt clings to his body, flexing every taunt muscle as he strides down the steps and towards you with a force.

Refocusing, you work on the project at hand—Dorns broken drone. You mesh wires together and a spark comes alive, something like the sparks you feel when Armando takes a seat next to you, leaving up against the steel work table.

“So that’s it, eh?” He says, staring at you. “Gonna ignore me.”

You keep fussing with your wires. “Not sure there is much to say.”

Armando chuckles bitterly. “I’m sure I could find some words. How about we start with, lo siento or soy un maldito idiota.”

You slam down your tools and turn to face him, fire blazing in your eyes. “I don’t even know what the fuck you just said.” You growl.

Armando stands, towering over you. “I’d be happy to translate for you, princesa. It means you fucked up and cost alot of people their lives.”

You flinch at his words, more reality of your mistake clouding over you. “You don’t think I know that? I’ve regretted my mistake every night when I cry myself to sleep because all I can see is that girl's face.

Your voice wavers. “Her blood.”

“If you feel like that then you should have listened to me when I told you that mission was suicide.” He growls.

“Fuck you.” You spat, walking away.

Armando catches your forearm, pulling you back towards him. “I’m not done, so don’t walk away from me.”

“Let me the hell go!” You try jerking from his grip but it’s no use, you’re stuck, stuck taking his abuse.

“No, you need to know that it was your fault out there. That your place is in the chair,’ he motions to your desk behind you. “You can’t handle the field, you’re not built for it.”

The need to prove him wrong boils in your gut causing you to lift your hand and swing it out towards Armando’s face.

Bad idea.

He catches your arm with ease and now both your limbs are in his hands. You try to snatch away, but Armando keeps you steady, pulling you closer until the two of you are breaths away from each other.

The heat in your chest spreads like wildfire as you watch Armando’s eyes linger on your bruised lips, then trailing down slowly to your hands and legs, accessing all your injuries as if they matter to him.

“Besides,’ he trails on, his index finger glazing cautiously over the ring bruise on your neck. “If it wasn’t more me out there, princesa, you’d be dead.”

“I didn’t think…”

“That’s the point,’ Armando holds you steady. “You didn’t think, and you not using your head almost got you killed. And if you would have died I—.”

There's a quivering pause in Armando’s voice, his eyes slam shut tight. You don’t know what to make of this, one second he hates you and the next he cares if you’re dead or not. Armando is a mystery you’re too tired to decode.

You jerk from his grasps once more and this shocks his eyes back open.

“Are you done?” You manage to say.

Armando licks his lips, slowly releasing you from his grasp.

“I’m done,’ he says, backing away from you.

You hold onto the steel table for support, the scorch of his touch slowly fleeting.

You hear the steel door crack open and turn to watch him leave, but he’s halted at the precipice, “One last thing, stay in the chair next time. It’s where you belong.”

With that he leaves, the steel door slamming shut and your confidence crumbling down.

You tried your hardest to not let Armando affect you, but he does. His words cut you deeper than Ramos’s knife. Maybe he was right, maybe you should just stay in the chair. But what if there was another time they needed you in the field? Could you just say no without feeling immense guilt? Probably not.

So when you write your resignation and leave it on your desk and walk away from the compound, you do it because you can’t stand to see the people you care about get hurt, all because you’re not a good enough cop.

###

“Okay, seriously! Are you really going to be that stupid and go back into the house where you know the killer is! Come on Noah!” You shout at your television screen.

It’s been a week since you put in your resignation and the amount of discourse behind it has resulted in you shutting off your phone and locking yourself inside, watching shitty horror movies to pass the time.

Because if you step foot outside, you’ll be mobbed by friends from the department and your friends from AMMO who, to say the least, weren’t happy about your resignation.

All but one.

Not that he mattered anyway.

They all hated that you quit, saying you needed to come back immediately and talk this out. But you couldn’t.

How could you face them when you were such a coward and created all that chaos? They worked so hard to save lives and keep order and you did nothing but fuck shit up.

It was time to jump ship before someone else got hurt in the crossfires of your neglect.

The thought pushes you deeper into your plush green couch that sits far back into your home, well renovated garage. But hey, Miami is expensive, and this place was renting out, so you just renovated it. A little love all around and it became an actual home.

You let loose a small smile looking around, the walls, once bare and industrial, now are splattered with a lively palette of bright yellows, deep blues, and playful greens. They are decorated with framed posters of all the things you love: vintage video games, classic sci-fi movies, and beloved comic book covers, each one a nod to your past. Strings of fairy lights crisscross the ceiling, casting a soft, whimsical glow that contrasts beautifully with your high-gear equipment scattered throughout.

Your floor is a patchwork of colorful rugs, each with its own story. Some are intricately patterned, those are the ones your parents gifted you, while others are simple yet bold, adding a splash of color to the room. Together, they might be your favorite part of the whole place, just because they keep your bare feet warm on lazy nights like these.

In one corner, a plush, oversized bean bag chair sits next to a low coffee table cluttered with all your retro memorabilia – old gaming cartridges, Rubik's cubes, and a couple of well-worn graphic novels.

The heart of your home garage is the tech haven. Your large, custom-built desk stretches along one wall, supporting your impressive army of monitors in various sizes. High-end computers hum quietly, their cases glowing with neon lights. Cables and wires, though numerous, are neatly organized, snaking their way through the room in an orderly fashion.

Shelves above and around the desk hold a treasure trove of tech gadgets and components – everything from VR headsets and drones to soldering kits and spare parts. A 3D printer sits in a place of honor, its latest creation still cooling on the print bed.

Your home made you feel complete, but still after you quit you do feel a little empty. You miss the small talks at work, the laughter, the bickering, the teasing. It just wasn’t the same alone. But again, it was for the best, because if there is one thing you know—keeping your family safe is the most important thing, above all.

And you’d hate to be their reckoning.

Flipping open your laptop you continue to scroll through your job search.

“What do you think, Chester?’ You say to your golden retriever. “Tech support job? Or maybe we go dark and get into hacking for higher companies.”

Chester whines, fidgeting in his spot next to you.

“You’re right, no going bad. Tech support it is.’ Chester rummages around a bit more before springing over your coach, darting towards the door. “Hey, I can work from home with this one!” You say.

Chester’s barks ring out, bouncing off the walls relentlessly.

You stand and make your way over to what’s got him so riled up. At the door, you bend down and pet him, still doing nothing to soothe his barks.

“Chessy, what’s wrong, huh?” You grab his collar, pulling him towards the door and opening it.

You stick both your heads out the door, turning them left and right, the only thing you see and hear is darkness and the bad storm slamming outside. You pull back inside and Chester sticks to you like glue. “See, nothing to worry about.’ You squat down to love on your dog, who's growling like crazy right now. “We aren’t like Noah, we don’t go into scary houses for fun. We’re safe here, Ramos is gone. ” You pat his head, but that only makes him bark more.

“Chester, enough already.” you stand, moving towards the kitchen and getting yourself a glass out of the cabinet, flicking on the sink, and filling it with water.

Your just about to take a sip when a loud crack of lighting explodes, illuminating your dark house, revealing a cloaked figure behind you.

You scream and drop your cup, shards exploding on the ground around your feet. Chester is in a full on frenzy right now, and rightfully so. Could this be Ramos’s men, did he send them to finish you off?

“You’re one crazy bitch, you know that?”

“Look at me, baby. I like my victims to look at me before they die.”

You scrape at your neck, the tender bruise making you hiss as if the pressure of Ramos choking you has never left.

The figure steps forward and you screech, ripping a butcher knife from your kitchen sink, and pointing it at them.

“Back the fuck up!” You scream. “I’m a fucking cop!” You take wobbly steps back, watching Chester go up the figure and sniff them…then roll over?

Chester by no means is an aggressive dog, but he loves you, and if he sensed you were in danger he’d protect you with his life. So when he begins to receive pets from the intruder, you lower your knife.

“Kelly?” You say, she knows Chester, you’ve brought him to the compound many times before, but she’s the only one on your team who has a key to your place.

The figure doesn’t answer, they just move over to the corner of the kitchen, flipping on the light.

Your shoulders drop the moment you see his thick beard and warm-brown skin peeking from underneath his black hoodie.

Armando.

“How the fuck did you get in?” You cross your arms over your chest.

Armando shrugs off his jacket, tossing it onto your kitchen stools. “It’s not exactly a place with state of the art security.”

“I could have killed you, Chester too.”

Armando snickers. “You and your pooch wouldn’t have done a thing.”

You grumble, crossing the kitchen landscape and moving towards the coaches. “What do you want, you're interrupting my movie night.”

Armando follows, hot on your trail. “I can see that. By the way, is that hello kitty on your pajamas?”

You look down and groan. Of course you’d be wearing something totally embarrassing when your least favorite ex-coworker breaks into your house.

“Stop switching the subject. Why are you here?”

Armando rustles in his pocket before pulling out a paper and shoving it into your hands.

You’re careful to unfold it because there is rain damage from the storm, but when you get it open, despite the smooshed ink on the page, you see it’s your resignation letter.

“Okay, and?” You shrug.

“Okay, and, take it back.” He says.

You chuckle. “You’re joking, right. Like you have to be joking.”

Armando’s face is straight. “I’m not.”

You plop down on your couch. “I’m not taking it back, I'm already looking at different jobs.”

A scoff leaves his lips. “So that’s it, eh? You’re just going to run away.”

You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh. “Weren't you the one who told me I should quit?”

“I never said that. I said you needed to stay in the chair, and still, you did the opposite of that.” He says.

You stand. “What’s the point of saying I’m a cop, if I don’t actually save people. You said that entire night was on me, so I backed away from the situation and now you’re mad?”

Armando sits quietly for a moment, tapping his leg against the ground. “I never said quit.”

“It doesn’t matter what you said. I did what I felt I needed to do.”

Armando scoffs, turning in his seat. “Yeah I can see that, real egoísta if you ask me.”

You stand, marching over towards the kitchen. “You know I have no clue what you’re saying.”

Armando turns, follows you, taking a seat at the bar. And before you know it, just like that compound before, you're caged between his legs.

“I called you selfish.”

You let out a gasp. “How the hell am I selfish?”

“Because you left the team!”

“I left the team to keep everyone safe! Not because I’m selfish!”

“We're safe! And we’ll be safer knowing that you’re safe, too, especially with some of Ramos’s associates still out there! I—we need to keep tabs on you.”

You stumble back. “What?’ You swallow. “Are you telling me my life is in danger? That Ramos will send people after me?”

“It’s a possibility we’re considering,’ Armando says, his eyes never leaving you as you sit across from him. “But if you come back to work we can keep you safe.”

“And what’s to say they won’t come for me any other time?” You croak. “Being in that compound doesn’t guarantee my safety.”

Armando rubs a slow hand over his face. “But I can.” He says, hardly above a whisper.

“You. Protect me?”

“Why is that so far-fetched?” He says.

“Armando, you hate me.”

“You keep putting words in my mouth, princesa, and I don’t like it.”

“I’m not putting words in your mouth. It’s just, actions speak louder.’ You shrug. “Ever since you got into AMMO, we’ve been the least close out of everybody. No matter how hard I tried, we just never connected. So yes, I’m sorry if I find you putting yourself on the line for me, unprovoked, a little hard to believe.”

Armando stands, his frame opposing against yours. He lifts his shirt and you hiss at what you see. Bandages, dried blood, and purple bruises litter his torso.

You look away but he catches your chin with his thumb, pulling your attention back to him.

“I wouldn’t put myself on the line for you,’ he said, pulling his shirt back down. “I already fucking did.”

“I never asked you too.” You mutter, looking away ashamed that you caused that.

“You didn’t have to.’ He sighs. “I couldn’t stand to see you get hurt.”

“What?” You turn, slow tears building, blurring your vision now.

“I didn’t want you to go out there because, as much as I try to hide it, I care about you.” Armando says, hot brown eyes melting into you.

You blink, stalling and stepping back. Armando…cares about you? Those two things shouldn’t even be in conjunction and your brain can’t process that they are.

The man in front of you has never been anything but harsh towards you, now he comes to your home in the middle of the night begging you to come back to work and confessing his feelings for you.

You truly must be dreaming…this can’t be real. Not that you’d be mad if it was. Despite all your bickering and misunderstandings, you still held a soft spot for Armando. You could see he was trying to be a better person, a more open person, regardless of his flaws.

And there were moments when he was kind to you, like opening doors for you, walking side by side with you to your car late at night, never forgetting to get your lunch along with the teams if you couldn’t make it. You knew he had a nice side to him and that’s why you showed him yours time and time again. Showed him it was okay to be vulnerable, but now he is, truly is, and you can’t even compute it.

“Why would you say something like that?” You swallow, something weird stirring inside of you, making you step closer towards him.

Armando does the same, closing the gap between you two. “Say what, princesa? The truth.”

You don’t mean to, but you whimper as the nickname leaves his lips. You look down, heat flushing in your cheeks. “Please don’t call me that.”

Armando scoops your chin with his index finger, your eyes latching and twinkling under the soft glow of your house's lights. “¿Por qué? no puedo manejarlo.”

“No.” You breath, studying every bridge and sharp angle of his face. This close, his beauty is unbelievable.

Armando’s thick, kept beard, is just as dark as his hair. His brown eyes are surrounded by a shade of full lashes, and his plump pink lips, glistening in the soft light. Armando Aretas was hard to resist and that’s why you feel yourself falling closer into him.

Like your mind is on autopilot, your hands fall to his chest, resting there and feeling every muscle he’s worked so hard for.

“I can see that.” Armando smirks. “I can also see that you care for me, too.”

“I—,”

“Want me to show you how I know?” He whispers, lips touching your ear and making you gasp.

You nod. There was no point in resisting him at that moment. Not that you wanted to either.

In one swift motion, Armando bends down and then you're airborne. His hands rest underneath your thighs as he carries you to your bedroom.

Walking over, your eyes never leave each other. You open your mouth to speak as a thought holds you captive.

“Is this why you said all those mean things? To discourage me because you didn’t want me to get hurt?” You ask, caressing his face in your hands.

Armando leans into the touch, nodding his head just as you two pass through the door of your bedroom.

He sets you down gently and you cling your arms around his neck.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” You ask.

Armando’s hands encircle your waist as he sighs. “I didn’t know how. I was just so angry that they’d even ask you to do something like that anyway.”

“And you were angry because you liked me?”

Armando nods.

“And when I was pretending to be Jenna…were you acting then, too?”

Armando chuckles, biting his lip, you look away to keep from melting. “You mean when I smacked your ass? I might have taken advantage of the situation then.”

You hit his chest and laugh. “I can’t believe you. That’s a violation!”

Armando leans in close. “I’d be happy to violate you some more, princesa.”

You chuckle lightly and wither out of his grip, taking a seat on the bed.

Armando frowns, sitting next to you. “What’s wrong? Was it something I sa—,”

“No. It’s fine. It’s just…I’ve never actually been with anyone before.”

Armando stills. “Oh. I was just joking with you,” he stands. “I can leave.”

Quickly, you grab his wrist, pulling him back. “No. I don’t want you to.’ You stand, taking his face in your hands and pulling him close. His lips are inches from yours and you can feel his nose brush against yours. “I want you to show me, just like you said.” You moan, placing your lips onto his.

Armando shutters, placing a hand on the nape of your neck. He opens his mouth, swiping his tongue over the bottom of your lips, asking for entry. You oblige and he slips inside, turning the kiss hot and fierce.

Armando swallows every moan you release, gripping your hips and pushing you back against the bed, his weight gently hovering on top of you.

He uses his legs, he spreads you open, you gasp at the motion allowing him access to your neck.

Like a man starving, Armando attacks your neck with hot-trailed kisses, lingering sucks and suckles, and licks that drive you wild, the heat between your legs pulsing now with desire.

“Fuck,’ you gasps and he palms over one of your breasts, sucking on the tender spot beneath your ear.

“Te gusta ese, bebe?” Armando whispers against your skin.

You shake your head “Yes.” You whimper.

Armando leans back, pulling at your top. “Let’s get this off of you, eh?”

You sit up just enough, allowing him access to pull the fabric off of you.

In a flash he peels your shirt off of you, leaving you bare in front of him.

Impulse has you covering yourself, but Armando reaches out, slowly moving your arms away from your chest.

“Don’t hide from me, mama.” He says, eyes darkening when he finally has a full view of your boobs.

“Mierda, you’re so beautiful baby.” He moans.

You shutter as he talks one breast in his hands, rubbing circles with it, while the other he latches his plump lips onto, sucking at your nipples.

The sensation causes your head to snap back and a deep, repressed moan to fly from your lips. Armando was doing the lords work with both his hand and tongue.

You squirm, squeezing your legs together and stimulating your spot, making your pants leak with want.

You had never had to opportunity to be with a man before, but in this moment you wanted nothing more than to fuck Armando.

“Fuck me,” you moan out. “Please.”

Armando chuckles, the sensation against your nipple makes you hiss. “Estás tan impaciente, princesa.’ He smacks your ass. “But eh, if that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get.” He smirks, pushing you down against the bed.

He hovers on top, snatching his shirt off. All of his rippling muscles on display before you. You bite your lip at the site, hoping to see more and soon.

“If you want me to fuck you, will have to get rid of these, no?” He pulls at the strings of your pajama bottoms.

You nod, eager to have him inside of you.

In a blur, Armando pulls off your pants, tossing them to the side.

If you thought you saw darkness in his eyes when he saw your boobs, the look he has now is nothing in comparison. His eyes are nearly pitch black as he takes in what is soon to be his.

Armando spreads open your legs, hissing once he gets a glimpse at your glistening cunt.

You moan just at the thought of bearing it all in front of him.

“God, fuck.” He says, pulling down his pants and revealing a surprise of his own that makes you gasp.

Though covered in boxers, you can see just what he was working with. And to say the least, he was huge, and thick.

“Come here, baby.’ He moans, pulling you by your thighs to the edge of the bed. “Let me taste you.” He says.

You watch as Armando’s head lowers between your legs and the second his mouth touches your pussy, you fell back into the bed.

His mouth makes quick work of you, versing between sucking on your clit and licking your slit in a rhythm that builds a euphoria inside your gut.

The force of his tongue against your pussy and the pressure of his lips wrapped around your swollen clit has your back arching and screaming out.

Your toys had nothing on Armando.

“Please,” you whimper and try to squirm, but Armando holds you in place, slapping your ass twice as hard as a repercussion.

With each pass of his tongue, circling arcs on your pussy you can feel yourself climbing to the edge. Armando must feel it too because he puts the cherry on top when he sinks a thick finger inside of you.

“Oh my—ugh!”

You’re a whimpering, whining mess. The sheets beneath you turning a new shade of green as you soak them with your slick.

Armando adds another finger in for good measure only adding to the build up in your stomach. Each pump, suck, and lick causes a buckle to snap inside of you and a high only the man eating you out right now can give you is climbing.

You reach higher, and higher. Your orgasm just around the bend.

One last pump and suck, and you come undone, all over Armando’s face.

Armando comes back up from the floor, crawling over top of you. With the little moonlight that shines into your bedroom you can see yourself covering his beard, droplets of cum covering most of it.

“Taste yourself for me.” He growls, lowering his lips into yours.

You latch on and a sweet, yet neutral, flavor slips onto your lips as you and Armando kiss in a harmonious rhythm.

You never let go from his grasps as your hand travels down. You grab a hold of his massive, bulging cock.

Armando hisses and whimpers as you begins to stroke it with a various pressures: soft, hard, slow, the soft again. He shutters above you, his faces desperate and pleading.

“You’ll make me come like that.’ He breaths, gripping your hands. “I thought you were a virgin?”

“I am,’ you hiss, still squirming. “But I think it’s a bullshit construct. I’m still highly sexual,’ you say, pulling at his cock, bringing it forth. “And I want to be highly sexual with you.”

Armando bites his lips, pulling you into his lap. “Eres un problema, princesa.”

“I know,” you say, kissing him once more.

You rock back and forth, feeling his cock press against your needing pussy. The pressure making you both shake in anticipation.

Armando breaks the kiss. “Do you have a condom?”

You shake your head. “No, but I’m on birth control.”

He nods. “Good, you’re going to need it.”

He flips you over so that he is on top. Finally, he reaches down and slips out of his boxers, his cock, thick, long and full, springs to life and you can’t help but moan. Your pussy is aching with the need to be filled.

Armando spreads your legs open, angling the tip of his cock with your pussy’s pulsing entrance.

“Are you sure about this, baby?” He asks.

“I’m sure. Now fuck me, please.”

Armando obeys, slowly slipping his cock inside of you.

You hiss at the burning, stretching pain, digging your nails into his back as he pushes in, your pussy swallowing him inch by inch.

“Mm,” you croak.

Armando stops. “Are you okay?” He shakes

You grip at his ass, forcing him inside deeper, despite the burn you’re desperate to feel all of him. “Don’t stop.” You moan. “Please keep going.”

Armando pushes in further and deeper, tearing you open, until you’re fully stretched and he’s reached the depths of your ocean.

You two stay still for a moment, him allowing you time to adjust to the new stretching sensation and his size.

You lean up to kiss him. He deepens it, molding his mouth to yours, before slowly moving.

You moan, holding onto him as he picks up the pace, thrusting into you faster.

You can feel the pain melting into pleasure the more he pounds into you.

Harder and faster you begin to feel yourself loose control, your euphoria coming to hit its second peak.

“Fuck me, ugh! Please, Armando!” You shot, lifting your legs, granting him deeper access.

Armando grips the tiny mound between your hip and leg, using it as leverage to drive his thick cock deeper into your soaking wet pussy.

Animalistic groans leave his lips as he drives into you at an unholy pace. The sounds of skin slapping and drawn out, breathy moans fill the room, reaching a devilish peak when you scream out, coming and pulsing around his cock.

Armando follows you not shortly after, his dick pulsing and pumping his spillage into you.

He rolls off of you, taking you in his arms and placing a sweaty kiss on your forehead.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He murmurs on your forehead.

“Okay.” You smile, your legs sore and your middle aching.

Armando lifts you up bridal-style and carries you into the bathroom.

Soon you’re surrounded by steam and soap as you two bathe each other down.

Showered, you two snuggle in bed, a burning question still at the forefront of your mind.

“Armando?” You say.

“Hm,’ he is hardly awake at this point.

“When did you realize you cared about me?” You ask, angling your head to head to get a good look at him.

Armando chuckles, stroking your curls you have yet to put in a bonnet. “I think I always did. I was just scared.”

“Scared? Of what?”

“Maybe that you wouldn’t see me the way i see you.” He sighs. “I see only the good in you, and maybe that makes me a blind man, but I’m certain you’re a woman who can see through facades, and you wouldn’t see any goodness in me.”

You sit up. “That’s not true. Armando, of course you’ve done terrible things, but that’s not what I see when I look at you.”

Armando takes a hold of your bandaged hand, placing a small kiss on the palm. “So what do you see?”

“Now? I just see you, and all the tiny little good things that I love.”

A small smile graces Armando’s face before he leans in, kissing you softly. You sigh against his lips, not wanting this moment to end.

Though you two had some struggles, you wouldn’t have this pairing any other way.

You just wished you’d checked your blind spot early to see all the little signs you were missing.

#armando aretas #bad boys ride or die #bad boys for life #armando x reader #armando aretas x reader #hot #fic #angst #smut #bwwm love #blackoc #fanfiction #fanfic #jacob scipio

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leona-hawthorne · 4 months

Text

SELFISH / mattheo riddle

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary: he dreams of you after you leave him because of his addiction

warnings: angst, addiction, drug use, swearing, mention of vomit (super brief), established relationship, mattheo and reader live together, post-war

words: 4.4k

a/n: i went to the melanie martinez concert yesterday! yay! anyways here’s a depressing fic for you <3 also i can’t lie, this was kind of inspired by that one line in chloe or sam or sophia or marcus by taylor swift (included at the end)

navigation mattheo riddle masterlist

The dim light of the kitchen amplified the feeling of darkness threatening to take over your soul as you sat perched on the counter, silk robe slipping off your shoulder. The sweet scent of fresh cookies flooded your nostrils each time you took a breath, the tray resting on top of the stove. An ice pack was pressed to the burn you’d just attained as you were taking the cookies out of the oven.

It seemed baking was one of your many ways of running from your problems instead of solving them.

Mattheo would be home soon. And unbeknownst to the poor boy, you were currently contemplating how to do it. How to leave him.

Maybe you should just leave now, before he returns. No fuss. Or maybe you could spend one more night in his loving arms and then leave a note on the fridge and quietly slip out at the first cracks of light. But that seemed cruel. You knew what you had to do. You had to tell him face to face. That’s what’s right, isn’t it?

If only it wasn’t so hard.

At heart, Mattheo Riddle was a selfish man.

He was selfish when you kissed him for the first time and he greedily pulled you back in. He was selfish the first time he saw you talking to another boy and got his knuckles bloody because you were supposed to be his only. He was selfish when you gave him your body for the first time and he ravished it from dusk to dawn. He was selfish when he continued to love you during the war, knowing his very being compromised your safety. And he was especially selfish when he didn’t flush the powder down the toilet each time after you washed him of his own fucking vomit. He was even more selfish because he didn’t want to let you go.

You were the light of his life, and as much as he wanted to tell himself that he didn’t know how he’d managed to snuff out your bright candle, that was a lie. With each action he took, with each time he ignored your teary eyes as he grabbed the bottle, there was a gust of wind blowing your once fiery spirit out. He felt as though a knife was being stabbed into his chest over and over and over again, piercing the tissue of his heart and breaking him down. He just couldn’t stop.

“Matty, please,” begging, your whispers would break apart, your voice trembling even in the quietest of tones. He’d shrink down to the floor with you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as your palm clamped over your mouth to silence your whimpers, his glazed eyes would look back to the drawer, unable to stop himself from walking to it.

Guilt, guilt, guilt. It was the only feeling he’d known for a long time now. Guilt, eating away at him as he stumbled home with dilated pupils, your beautiful soul straying from judgment and instead leaning his arm over your shoulder. Guilt, gnawing at his quivering fingers as they drew a new line of white, your muffled sobs leaking through the bathroom door. Guilt streaming down his cheeks in the form of tears as he held you in the aftermath, whispers of false promises that both of you knew were fake but wanted to believe anyway.

The sound of the front door creaking open shook you from your daze, furrowed brows relaxing and pulling your nails away from your teeth. You don’t move. You don’t get up to greet him. Even him walking through the door was a rocky road of memories for you. Sometimes, he’d come home with a smile and a kiss. Other times, he’d return with red eyes and arms that refused to hold onto you for help walking.

”Y/N?” His deep, tired voice called out.

”Kitchen.” You yelled, eventually hearing his footsteps approaching you. Still staring at the floor, you see his feet come into sight as he stands in front of you.

”You’re adorable, you know? Making my favorite cookies for when I get home.” He commented, giving you a lazy smile and a long kiss on the top of your head. “What happened to your finger?” He asked, concern filling his eyes as he saw the ice pack on your hand. You ignore his question.

With a shake of your head, you finally look up so your eyes meet his. “Um… Matt, baby, we need to talk.” Your voice is quiet as you contemplate which words to use. His face sours, lips curling downwards into a frown. “Okay…” He swallowed nervously.

You take a moment to really study your boyfriend’s face and lo and behold, his eyes are red. No surprise. Your expression doesn’t morph into shock or horror or concern. This is your usual now.

“What did you and Theo do today, Matt?” The question sounds innocent but Mattheo knows it is anything but.

“That’s what you wanted to talk about?” He chuckled nervously in an attempt to dodge your question.

”No, but I asked you a question.”

His head tilts down, staring at his feet embarrassedly, and after a long moment of silence, he answers. “You know.”

You huffed quietly, the sound a mixture of a bitter laugh and a scoff. “Yeah, I know… That’s actually what I wanted to talk about.”

His head snapped back up in an instant, eyes filling with fear that he desperately tried to cover up as his feet shifted around, the wooden floor creaking under him. You averted your eyes, unable to meet his fearful gaze as you just decided to be straightforward with it.

“I can’t watch this happen anymore, Mattheo.”

He stumbled back a bit, as if your words were a physical blow. “What?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you continue. “I’m done.” You got down from the kitchen counter to walk away but his hands were already grabbing at your arms. It was like his blood had turned to gasoline, your words the match. He’d been speechless for many moments, his brain going blank as your words settled in and became the only thing occupying his mind, bouncing around the corners of his skull with a groundbreaking echo. Anger, despair, and most of all, fear. Fear that he’d finally pushed you too far, that you were finally leaving. His hands grabbed at you in a desperate attempt to ground himself, to lock you to himself. “No, please—”

“Stop, Mattheo.” You mutter, your voice breaking. His hand froze, his heart clenching in his chest as your voice hit his ears. He hated the way you said his name. There was no love or warmth in it anymore. Just a cold, sharp edge.

“We can talk about this.” He pleaded, his voice becoming low and desperate. “Please, Y/N. Just let me explain.”

“This isn’t something we can fix with a fucking conversation, Mattheo. Not anymore.”

“We can try!” He insisted, his grip on your arm becoming a little firmer. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, and he wasn’t going to let you go without trying to fix this.

“Mattheo, we have tried.” You let out a broken sob.

“I know I messed up. And— and I’ll do better. I’ll stop, I’ll do anything.�� He said, the desperation seeping into his voice. “Please, Y/N, I’m begging you.”

If it weren’t for the fact that you’d heard similar words leave his mouth many times before, you may have broken and given in.

“That’s not how that works and you know it.” You utter quietly, teary eyes darting back up to his.

He swallowed, suddenly feeling a mixture of anger and hurt wash over him. “You’re not even willing to fix it.” He spat, his grip on your arm tightening.

He hated the way you spoke to him, like it was so easy for you to walk away. It tore his heart out of his chest. “You don’t get to act like you’re better than me, because you’re not. You’re just a coward, running away instead of facing this like an adult.”

With a sniffle, you bit your tongue and said, “Maybe. But I can’t take this anymore, so I don’t care.”

He flinched at your words, the pain stabbing at his heart as he realized that to you, it was that simple. A part of him wanted to say something more, to convince you to stay, but he knew he couldn't do anything to change your mind. He didn’t deserve for you to change your mind.

And so, with a frustrated, heartbroken glare into your eyes, he abruptly took a few steps back away from you, the walls he’d spent ages lowering for you closing back up, the years worth of trust and progress shattering within an instant.

“Fine. Go ahead. Run away. See if I care.”

You swallowed and walked to your guys’ shared bedroom to pack your things, hoping the walls are thick enough to muffle your sobs.

He watched you walk away, feeling like a dagger was plunging deeper and deeper into his heart with every step you took. He wanted to run after you, to hold you in his arms right then and there and sink down to the living room floor with you, but the cold reality of everything that had happened hit him, and he stayed rooted in his spot, unable to move.

Sitting against the gray wall, he couldn’t even look at you as you walked out the door with your bags clutched in your shaking hands. After you left, he sat there for what felt like hours. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think. His mind was filled with an overwhelming mix of anger, resentment, betrayal, but most of all, an excruciating amount of just simple childlike sadness. It felt as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest.

And hours later, still in the same dumbstruck position, in the hazy depths of his mind, he could swear he heard your pretty voice, felt your gentle fingers tracing the outline of his face as they’d done so many times before.

Finally, he decided that he needed to do something, anything to distract himself from the painful emptiness. So he did the only thing he knew how: he went to the white nightstand beside what used to be the both of yours’ bed to take out the one thing he knew would quiet his pounding head.

His fingers brushed against the bottle, and his heart leaped as he recognized the familiar feel of its cylindrical shape. He pulled it out, his eyes widening with relief as he held the bottle in his hands. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He hastily opened the bottle as he walked towards the door leaned against it.

Soon enough, a sudden lightheadedness washed over him, and he sat there for a moment, enjoying the light fuzzy feeling inside his head. It helped to erase all the terrible thoughts that were plaguing his mind, making him feel like he was floating. He reached for another pill, but as he was about to take it, a voice at the back of his head started scolding him.

“What are you doing?”

He flinched as he heard the voice in his mind, his hands still clutching the bottle. He looked around, even though it was clear that the voice wasn’t coming from anywhere in his room. He tried to ignore it, shaking his head and popping another pill into his mouth.

But the voice didn’t go away. It grew louder, demanding he listen to it.

“Stop!”

He began to recognize the voice as yours.

He let out a frustrated groan, rolling his eyes at the voice. “Please shut up, I need this right now!”

But the voice kept echoing through his head. “But Mattheo, you’re hurting yourself. You’re hurting me. Don’t do this to us.”

Jesus, had he really gone so crazy to the point that he started hearing voices and talking to himself in an empty room?

Reluctantly, he laid the bottle back down beside him.

“Good job, pretty baby. Go drink some water.” Your voice murmured in the back of his head.

He felt a pang in his heart at the way you spoke to him. He missed having your hand gently soothing his cheek, your soft kisses planted on his skin. He missed you, even though he was trying his best not to, to just be mad. Hearing your voice in his head, so soft and gentle, was making him crave you even more.

He sniffled loudly, blinking away his tears before they could fall. He couldn’t help but obey.

Without wasting another second, he stood up and huddled off to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. As the cold liquid flowed down his throat, he couldn’t help but feel like you were there with him. He could almost imagine you standing beside him, softly stroking his hair like you had done countless times before.

Sauntering back to the bedroom with his eyes glazed over, he laid back down in the bed, pulling the quilt over his body. The fact that it was riddled with your scent didn’t help to soothe his aching chest. A tired, defeated sigh escaped his lips as he sunk into the soft mattress. His body felt heavy and fatigue washed over him, making it increasingly hard to keep his eyes open. He couldn’t help but wish it was you beside him instead of your pillow, your body pressed against his like it usually was every night.

Just as he was about to close his eyes, the voice spoke up again. “Go to sleep, my love. I’ll watch over you.”

His eyes snapped open and he sat up a bit straighter, his heart racing. God, you’re not really here, are you? You can’t be.

He shook his head, trying to convince himself that it was just his mind playing tricks on him. But the voice continued, growing even more fond.

“Relax, darling. Don’t overthink it. Just rest and I’ll see you in your dreams.”

Your voice in his head was so gentle, a soothing balm over the wound in his heart. He hesitated for a few moments before laying back down. He let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift off into a deep sleep.

But before he lost himself to the dream world, he could have sworn that he felt a gentle pair of lips grazing over his face.

In his dream, he found himself in a beautiful garden, surrounded by bright, colorful flowers. The air was filled with the sweet, fruity scents, and the warm sunlight danced on his skin softly. He stood there, taking a moment to drink in the beauty of his surroundings, before seeing a familiar figure in the distance.

You were walking towards him, dressed in a simple sundress. Your hair gently moved with the wind, and your eyes shimmered under the sunlight, resembling a star in the night sky. You were gorgeous, more beautiful than any flower in the garden.

He couldn’t help but smile as you approached him. He reached out for you, wanting to touch you and see if you were real. But as soon as his fingers brushed against your skin, you vanished, leaving him standing alone in the garden, all silent except for the sound of the gentle breeze.

His heart sank with confusion and disappointment as he realized he was alone again. He let out a frustrated scoff, kicking the grass as he began to look around the garden for you. Finally, he spotted you again, standing under an elegant archway.

He quickly closed the distance between the two of you, his hands reaching up to cup your face. He was relieved that he could touch you again. He softly caressed your cheeks, staring into your eyes with admiration. “I missed you so much,” he whispered, his voice filled with longing.

But before he could say anything else, you vanished once again. He gritted his teeth, frustration bubbling within him as he yelled out your name. He began desperately running around the garden, searching every corner until he spotted you sitting under a cherry blossom tree.

His heart leaped in his chest as he ran towards you, but as soon as he reached the tree, you disappeared once more. He felt his frustration reach its peak and he let out a groan of annoyance, his fists clenching as he yelled angrily.

“Stop disappearing on me! Let me hold you, damn it!”

Just as he was about to give up hope, he suddenly noticed you standing behind him. You were smiling, a kind and loving smile gracing your lips as you said, “Catch me if you can, pretty boy.”

His eyes widened as soon as he heard your voice. He slowly turned around to face you, his heart thumping rapidly as he realized you had really appeared. He reached out to grab you, but just as he was about to wrap his arms around your waist, you suddenly sprinted off, your laughter filling the air.

Despite the initial shock, he broke out into a huge, boyish grin. Without hesitation, he began chasing after you. He was laughing, feeling more alive than he had in weeks. As time flew by, the two of you ran through the flower garden, chasing each other like little children.

Finally, after a long chase, he managed to catch you. He pulled you close, wrapping his strong arms tightly around your body. He let out a satisfied laugh, his eyes filled with warmth and affection as he whispered, “Got you now.”

His heart swelled with happiness as you wrapped your arms around him too, your body pressed securely against his. He buried his face into your hair and breathed in your scent, feeling overwhelmed with contentment.

He let out a gentle sigh before pulling away just enough so he could look down at your face. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before murmuring, “I love you, darling.”

You pulled away slightly to look into his eyes, mirroring his look of contentment. “I love you too, beautiful boy,” you whispered as you gently caressed his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, relishing the feeling of your fingertips against his skin.

But when he opened his eyes, he was met with the image of your figure fading away, a startled gasp escaping him. “No! Come back!” He called out, but you were gone. He frantically looked around the garden, only to find that he was alone once more. He felt your absence like a physical ache, and a sense of longing washed over him.

He stood there, his heart feeling heavy and lonely as he whispered your name, hoping for you to come back. But there was no sign of you, no response to his calls. He sank down onto the grass, feeling lost and desperate. The sun continued to shine, almost as if mocking him and his misery.

He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to regain a sense of comfort, but it wasn't the same. He missed you, longed for your presence. He couldn't bear being alone anymore. The garden around him, which had been so beautiful and filled with life, now seemed empty and boring without you.

He closed his eyes as he lay flat on the ground. Suddenly he felt a kiss on his cheek. His eyes snapped open to see you standing above him with a teasing smile.

A mix of disbelief and happiness washed over him as he saw you standing there, a playful smile gracing your lips. He sat up straight, looking up at you with a mixture of relief and confusion. “You’re back,” he whispered, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

“What do you mean? I never went anywhere?…” Your voice echoes through the garden as you tilt your head in confusion, looking down at him.

He furrowed his brows, a bit confused by your answer. He looked around at the garden, which was now eerily quiet, then back at you. “But you disappeared. I was chasing you and you vanished.”

“Don’t be silly. I’ve been here the whole time.” You giggled, toying with the straps of your dress.

The confusion in his eyes only deepened as he listened to your words. He was starting to feel a bit disoriented, like he was stuck in a twisted dream. “No, you weren’t,” he insisted. “I lost sight of you for a moment, and then I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“Oh, beautiful boy. Are you seeing things again?” Your gentle voice echoed throughout the open field.

As he heard the echo of your voice, he felt a pang in his chest. There was something amiss, something that didn’t feel right. “I don’t understand… Are you really here, or is this just my imagination?” he asked, his voice filled with a hint of desperation.

“I’m whatever you want me to be,” You murmured, looking out at the swaying flowers with an innocent smile.

Frustration started to bubble up in him as he heard your ambiguous answer. “That’s not an answer. I need to know if you’re really here or if you’re just a figment of my imagination.” He stood up from the ground and stepped closer to you, his eyes fixed on your face, searching for any signs of truth in your expressions.

Your innocent smile morphed into a playful smirk, angling your head up to look at him. “Catch me,” You say before running again.

He watched you run away, a mix of frustration and determination now etched on his face. He let out a huff and began chasing after you once more. He was tired of feeling powerless and confused, and he was determined to catch you this time.

As he ran through the garden, the flowers of different colors and shapes passed him in a colorful blur. He pushed himself harder, ignoring the occasional thorns and leaves that clawed at his skin. His focus was solely on you, his eyes locked onto your figure as you darted through the garden.

He tried to strategize as he ran, trying to anticipate your next move. You were nimble and elusive, like a butterfly fluttering just out of reach. But he refused to give up. He zigzagged through the garden, trying to cut you off. He was getting closer, he was sure of it.

Finally, he saw an opportunity to cut you off as you headed towards a narrow path between two rows of tall bushes. He pushed himself to sprint even faster and managed to get in front of you, blocking your escape route.

He stood there in front of you, panting heavily from the chase. His chest was heaving, his eyes locked onto yours. “Caught you, darling,” he said breathlessly, a hint of triumph in his voice.

“Come back to me, Mattheo,” You whispered.

The sound of your voice was like a bandage to his tired soul. He stepped closer, closing the gap between them. He reached out and gently took your hands in his, his fingers intertwined with yours. "I'm right here, darling," he whispered back.

“No… You’re not. This isn’t real.”

He furrowed his brows, confusion and a tinge of hurt evident on his face. "What do you mean? Of course, this is real. We're here together, talking, touching. How can it not be real?”

He looked down at your intertwined fingers and lightly brushed his thumb over your knuckles, as if trying to convince himself of your tangible existence. "I can feel you," he murmured. "I can feel your skin against mine. How can that be unreal?"

He lifted one of your hands to his chest, placing it over his heart. It was hammering against his ribcage, his pulse strong and steady. "Can you feel that?" he asked quietly. "Can you feel my heartbeat? That's real. I'm real."

“No, you’re not, sweet boy,” You whisper, your body slowly fading away.

His eyes widened in alarm as he watched your form start to disappear once again. "No, no, no, no, you can't leave me!" He clutched at your hand tightly, unwilling to let you go. "No, you must be real. You have to be!" Panic and despair welled up inside him as he saw your body fading. He gripped tighter onto your hand, desperately trying to keep you with him. "Please, don't disappear," he pleaded, his voice trembling. "I need you. Don't leave me alone again."

“Wake up,” is the last thing you whisper before disappearing from his grasp.

His eyes snapped open, and he jolted upright in his bed. He was bathed in sweat, his heart racing and his breaths coming out in pants. He sat there for a moment, disoriented and confused. It had all felt so real, yet now he was back in his cold, empty room.

He raked a hand through his messy hair, raking his mind over the dream he had just had, searching for answers.

He couldn't shake the feeling of melancholy that had settled over him. He could still remember the way you had felt in his arms, the warmth of your touch and the sweet melody of your voice. He could still see your captivating smile and the sparkle in your eyes. But it was all just a dream.

He ran a hand over his face, feeling both physically and emotionally exhausted. He looked around at his room, which now seemed even more hollow without your presence. He let out a deep sigh, feeling more lonely and empty than ever.

It was clear he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep in the bed you once shared so he ambled back to the kitchen sleepily and grabbed one of the cookies you’d left in one hand, a bottle in the other, chugging it with no reaction to the sting.

Stumbling to the sofa and collapsing down, now with his system in overdrive, he couldn’t help but selfishly hope you’d come back and save him from falling deeper into oblivion.

But he knew you wouldn’t and most painfully of all, he knew that he deserved it.

You needed me but you needed drugs more and I couldn’t watch it happen

I changed into goddesses, villains, and fools

Changed plans and lovers and outfits and rules

All to outrun my desertion of you

And you just watched it

If you wanna break my cold, cold heart, just say “I loved you the way that you were”

If you wanna tear my world apart, just say you’ve always wondered

— Taylor Swift

375 notes · View notes

itsonlydana · 8 months

Text

"I Didn't Know That I Was Starving Till I Tasted You" | hobbit

➛ pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑

➛ When you get stood up by your date all you want to do is morph with the couch, eat ice cream and watch Pride & Prejudice. It's a shame your roommate/best friend Thranduil doesn't agree with those plans.

➛ warnings/tags: modern!au, roommate!au, friends-to-lovers, chef!thranduil, swf, kissing

➛ words: 9,3k

➛ an: sooo let's ignore that i said i wasn't writing anymore <3 i'm still not taking request but i have a few fics that i'll post over the next few weeks!

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

The sound of keys turning in the lock sounds through your apartment before the door opens and closes, making you wince.

The piano music playing through the expensive stereo system is loud enough that you could blame your reaction for not reacting to it. After a brief moment, a deep voice echoes from the hallway, marked by an incredulous "Huh?" and followed by an urgent "What?" accompanied by hurried footsteps.

"Hello?! What– what are you still doing here? You should be dressed up and in a cab by now!"

Your roommate and best friend Thranduil rushes into the living room, you can see his tall figure out of your peripheral vision.

Not that it would change where he stands.

You don't bother to turn around and continue to hide between the mountain of pillows and blankets you had accumulated on the couch, watching the movie playing on the big screen in front of you.

"Uhh– Mister Bingley arrived from the North," you comment on the happenings of the Bennets' house, a spoonful of ice cream held to your mouth.

Thranduil steps closer, dropping his coat and a bag on the wing chair next to the couch. "What–"

Instead of answering his question, you let the ice cream melt on your tongue, mumbling a "5000 a year?" with a mouth full of chocolate.

"Talk to me, woman!"

"He's single!" you sigh happily and throw a dramatic hand in the air.

Before you can lower it again, Thranduil snaps and snatches your hand, cold fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling you towards him. Finally, you look up to him and are confronted with your very baffled-looking best friend.

"If you don't tell me why you aren't on the way to the fabulous third date with Marcus-"

"Jake."

Thranduil rolls his eyes at the interruption: "Fine, why aren't you on the third date with Jake right now and instead sulk on the couch watching Pride & Prejudice again? I thought we promised to take a break from watching it anyway."

You push out your lower lip, pouting. "I'm not sulking," you say in a tone so drawn out it completely defiles your statement. Thranduil doesn't say anything, he just lets his gaze slowly wander over the blankets you are buried under, to the half-eaten ice cream bucket to the TV where the Bennet sisters are currently caught eavesdropping on their parents' conversation. He doesn't need words to express himself, the judgment is silent in words but loud in the raise of his dark eyebrow.

"Fine," you groan, admitting defeat. "He canceled."

Thranduil's gaze softens as he sits down next to you on the edge of the sofa and he slowly drops your hand from his grip. "He canceled," he repeats, eyes falling back to the ice cream.

"He canceled," you confirm with a sigh "Just like I predicted- so I don't know why I even bothered to dress up. I even bought that stupid dress just because he wanted to go out to this new fancy Italian place. He canceled and because I waited 15 minutes for him to not show up, standing outside - in the cold might I add- I think I am allowed to sulk a little!"

In the end, you had talked yourself into quite a rage and fall back into the pillows, your arms crossed in front of your chest. "And no, you said I should take a break from watching that movie but since you are not my mother I am allowed to watch whatever!"

You pierce him with a glare but only for a moment before you deflate.

"Sorry for getting all bitchy there," you shuffle around, hands searching for the remote to stop the movie.

"It's alright," Thranduil says and cocks his head. "Now that you are done, am I allowed to go after him and nail his balls to the ground for standing you up?"

A smile tugs on your lips as you shake your head. "No, you are not. I'm sure he has his reasons." The reason wasn't spelled out in the message but after hopping around in the dating scene for a while now, you know what ´I'm sorry but I don't think we really fit. You are a great person though!´ means.

It was nothing new, though it hurt the same as it did the first time.

"Well, unless there was a sudden death in his family I don't see a reason why he couldn't have canceled before the date," he huffs "-you know like a normal person would do"

You shrug your shoulders. "It's done now. Maybe it just wasn't supposed to happen."

"No, it wasn't. Not with a guy like him," Thranduil shakes his head, the long braid of silver blonde hair getting even more disheveled by the movement. "You deserve a man that doesn't cancel, doesn't let you stand outside in the cold!"

"Yes," you sigh again, staring wistfully at the TV "my Mister Darcy."

"He was literally the reason why Elizabeth ran out into the rain and cold," Thranduil responds deadpanned and you throw a pillow in his direction which he elegantly catches.

"I will not stand for this Darcy-hate! Ugh, you are such a bad friend," you whine, "I got stood up and you are making fun of one of the two people who have never let me down.. one person now that you decided to be a meanie!" You once again pout.

This time it works, a little too well because suddenly Thranduil looks at you with that one look of him, the one that breaks through every defense you could build up. He looks at you like you just told him you were dying, all the compassion he can find in his otherwise cold heart spilling out of his cerulean eyes that wander over your face.

"You know you have every right to feel sad about the date not happening," he says carefully, tilting his head slightly in a way that oozes pity, "You were looking forward to it, you even bought a dress for it. Let me cheer you up, I can cook something for you and we can watch a movie later or we can go out and drink until I have to hold your hair in the bathrooms." He smiles softly, sincere and it makes you want to jump up from the couch and hide in your room.

You two didn't do sincere; you bantered, you made jokes on behalf of the other and you most certainly did not comfort each other after a failed date. Your friendship needed lightheartedness, it thrived on sarcasm and arguments about everything and anything that came to your minds.

But the offer is tempting, especially the cooking part. Thranduil is a chef, working in his own restaurant; 'The Green Leaf' and he did a damn good job at it. Most nights, like this one, he comes home and cooks for you because apparently, Goldfish crackers were not as good for your diet as one part of the name misled you to believe and even though you made fun of Thranduils diet as well, fully vegan and with a distaste for anything that made life worth living like chocolate ice cream, he knew exactly how to whip up a meal that had you salivating.

You stare him down, weighing your options. Option one was to remain on the couch where you would shovel the ice cream down until you would inevitably get sick, watching Pride & Prejudice and mourning the never-happening and probably very boring date you would’ve had.

Option two would entail a doubtlessly very delicious meal as well as the possibility of getting drunk as fuck in a bar.

The choice comes easy.

"Okay," you agree and raise a pointed finger at him as a victorious grin spreads on his lips "But-" you wiggle the finger "you will not do this out of pity because I do not need pity from a man!"

Thranduil's grin only seems to grow, lightening up his eyes "No of course not. No pity here. I promise!" He stands up from the couch in a hurry, grabbing the bag he had left on the chair. When you don't move except to reach for the remote again, he shakes his head. "Leave Mr. Darcy for another day, you have to change!"

"Change?" you ask bewildered, looking around the apartment. "I thought you were going to cook here and not at the restaurant. Why would I need to change now?"

Thranduil scoffs, turning his back to you to walk towards the kitchen, his voice growing louder as it's accompanied by the sound of the fridge opening.

"Because I know you spent the entire day planning your outfit. You said you bought a new dress and I will not cook you an entire meal for you to sit there in your sweatpants!" he calls out and you throw your head against the couch with a groan that has Thranduil leaning out of the kitchen door

"You want the food, you follow the chef's orders," he copies the raised finger in your direction "Don't be a brat, get your butt off the couch and into your room before I have to spank you! I'll call you when you can come out."

The threat is met with you sticking your tongue out and one second thinking you could defy the order but that is until he fakes a quick step back into the room and you peel the blankets away squeaking "I'm moving! I'm moving!" while stumbling through the living room. "Jeez"

Despite knowing he would never hurt you the thought of Thranduil spanking you has you blushing a ridiculous amount and you don't turn around so he doesn't see it.

"But just so you know, I will wear the dress but only so I don't have to squeeze myself into it after dinner when we go out!" you yell over your shoulder instead and you swear you hear him chuckle before you slip into your room and close the door behind you.

The sweatpants land on your bed, followed by the sweater you had put on after getting the text message from Jack. You remain in your underwear, which you hadn't been bothered to change and stare at yourself in the mirror of your wardrobe. You are confronted with the blush the spanking comment had left on your cheeks and down your neck, and you scowl at the image.

He is your best friend and roommate.

Get a grip!

The dress you had bought for the date still hangs on the wardrobe door, a short, and black number that wasn't something you would normally wear but when you had stalked the Instagram Account for the place you would’ve eaten at today, nothing already existent in your closet had seemed fitting.

Staring at it now you question the length as well as the relatively deep front and back. After all, this was a normal dinner with your best friend, right? Yes, you would maybe leave for a club or bar after this and you had worn all kinds of clothes for a night out with Thranduil in your company but this dress had been bought for the sole reasons of looking sexy and with the hopes of getting lucky.

You shake the thoughts away and grab the hanger with the dress on.

This was a normal dinner with your best friend and this was just a dress. He had seen you in other skimpy clothes and literally any other form of dressed as well as undressed on several accidental occasions. There is no need to think this over and fall into an endless spiral of doubts.

With a nod to yourself for this mature thinking, wow, aren't you a well-functioning grown-up? – you slip the garment over your head, pinching and twisting the fabric until it sits to your satisfaction.

The hem barely covers your thighs, just doing enough so it wouldn't flash your bottom at the slightest movement but showing enough leg for you to feel powerful. The same was with the deep neckline. Bending forward was not an option, though it would draw eyes on you, hopefully.

You put the discarded jewelry back on again, a subtle choker necklace and a pair of more flashy earrings with - sadly fake- diamonds dangling and catching the light in them. The makeup is done quickly as well, some touches of a brush on your jawline, some lovely shade of lipstick on your lips, the movement of routine flows through your body with no need to really think about it.

After spraying some of your favorite perfume on your neck and behind your ears you wait.

Sitting on the edge of your bed you wait and you definitely don't think back to Thranduil's statement. No. Never.

Maybe a little bit.

Because when he calls out for you a fifteen-minute heads-up, you feel the blush coming back and the suspicion confirms itself at the last look in the mirror. You raise your head, challenging the woman in the mirror with an arch of the eyebrow before walking out the door and into what could only be described as a fever dream.

The living room is dark, the moss green curtains pulled closed except for a small gap where the afternoon sun filters through into the flat. The dining room table is clear from all the jackets, mail and stuff that accumulates throughout the day and week that are usually thrown on it and instead, there are candles.

Candles!

Candles in silver candleholders, like actual burning candles. Next to the expensive-looking candleholders is a vase filled with lavender, full and flourished purple flowers that fill the room with a soft and dizzying smell.

Suddenly you are very glad you are not in your sweats anymore, there is a heat rising in your body and setting your cheeks aflame.

Fidgeting with your hands you quietly step forward into the room to the kitchen, your eyes flittering from the table to the cleaned-up sofas and then you can see Thranduil rushing from the counter to the stove.

His back is turned to you, offering you a view of broad shoulders and arms flexing beneath the white shirt he had changed into, and even worse, the tight black pants he now wears, showing off his long legs and- you look a little higher, checking him out and blushing like it's a guilty pleasure.

Of course, the pants would show off his perfect arse as well.

You shouldn't stare.

No matter how magnificent the sight is.

And oh, it surely is magnificent.

You snap back into reality, take a lavender-filled breath, and walk into the kitchen.

It's a beautiful kitchen, not one of the reasons you had first checked out the apartment but one that had tipped the arguments for it in the end. And you are glad it did, because when you had taken roommate applications Thranduil simply waltzed into it, nodded and offered you the first year of rent with 25% on top of it if you would remove the pop-into-the-microwave-Lasagna from the freezer and never dared to buy something like that again.

His brisk and bold and sometimes very harsh attitude would've maybe frightened any other person off but you had seen the money, the prospect of a cook as a roommate and a handsome one at that, and had held out the contract with one hand while the other threw out the lasagna.

And look where that had brought you.

The kitchen is now filled with more vegetables than you have ever seen in one place that isn't a market, there is nearly always a pot with something ready for you on the stove and the fondest memories you have with Thranduil are baking Christmas cookies, throwing flour into each others faces so that your hair had been colored white like Thranduils, or you learning how to cut vegetables under his stern gaze because "No, you can not cut a carrot the same way you cut the bell pepper!"

Now here he is again, creating a memory that will never let you go.

You let your eyes wander over the stove, where one pot is cooking rice, the other has some onions caramelizing with garlic from the smell of it and Thranduil has one pan in his hand, throwing some cut tofu into the air while he brushes some oil onto white dough stretched into hand-sized bits.

He is fully in his element, maneuvering what seems like a three-course meal without any help or breaking a sweat. Setting down the pan with the tofu (hadn't that been a fun journey of convincing until you had let him cook that without any protest?) he wipes his hand on the towel thrown over his shoulder and turns to the cutting board on the kitchen island. He has even more flowers on the island, pink gerberas and white orchids stand next to his array of mint, basil and rosemary.

You have no idea what has gotten into him, there have never been this many flowers in your apartment except for the few ones some of your dates had bought you and even then they landed in the trash a couple of days later.

Sometimes Thranduil had even said he had confused them for some swept-in leaves after you asked him where the last bouquet went.

The man was truly an enigma.

"Smells good in here," you say and lean over the stove.

Thranduil clicks his tongue against his teeth. With a soft growl, he presses out a "Move," not sounding really annoyed but disturbed by you being in his way and with a giggle you move away to grant him free access to the pots.

"What is on the menu today, Chef?" you ask as you hop onto the island. No matter how much space Thranduil needs for cooking, he always leaves that one spot on the corner free for you to sit on.

"Tofu Tikka Masala you noisy girl," Thranduil doesn't turn around and for a minute you want him to see you, see the dress you have put on but then your gaze falls onto his back again and you blush.

Thank god, he didn't turn to find you checking him out, again.

"Couldn't you have waited until I told you the food is ready? Now I have you sitting around here, distracting me, even though I don't have a lot of time to begin with."

You know he is lying. He had told you more than once that you were a pleasure in the kitchen. Not at the stove but looking pretty sitting on your spot on the island and not touching a thing.

"Well, we could have ordered some pizza," you tease him, and he grunts. When he still doesn't turn around, you lean forward, a smirk on your lips. "Or we could have gone out to 'Oakenshields' and-" The rest of the sentence dies on your lips as Thranduil's whole body snaps around and you nearly squeak when he leans into your space.

Nose against nose, he stares you down, cerulean eyes holding yours without any playfulness in them. "You are on very thin ice," he says quietly and while you know he still doesn't mean it like that, you squirm under the gaze and sudden rush of adrenalin that his proximity is causing your head to swim.

"Yeah?" you ask breathlessly, sounding way too excited for your own good, and you try kicking him against his chin but he catches your leg before it hits him, and as soon as his hands grab the bare skin he lets go again, falling back like it had shocked him physically.

Cerulean eyes drop, leaving your face that suddenly goes up in flames and for a second you can see his breath hitch, his chest moving at the sharp inhale of air as he takes you in. The moment builds up, the atmosphere between you changes and charges with something and for this short, stopped moment in time you allow yourself to think:

'What if?'

Then a timer goes off, distant at first but growing louder when Thranduil's face shifts back to the usual calm facade that reflects not a thing of what is going on in his head. He sniffs, hiding behind his dark eyebrows when he lowers his head and pats you gently on your thighs.

"I'll rather perish than go to 'Oakenshields'," he rasps, the raw edge in his voice the only remnant showing that he was affected by whatever that had been between you.

Then he turns around and pushes the tray with dough into the oven.

He covers it up professionally with the joke, of course, because Thranduil Oropherion could never have been seen with feelings that go deeper than what any human would consider barely amiable.

Yes, he is your best friend and he makes an effort around you to not be the coldhearted asshole he is too, for example, Thorin Oakenshield, owner of the restaurant slash bar that the last critic had called a "serious opponent in the gourmet chef world".

Thranduil took the news so well that he had a furious meltdown of cooking for nearly 20 hours to create a menu that he would serve the critic to show him Thorin was not to put anywhere near him on a culinary level before he threatened to buy the paper the man was working for and fire him.

He only calmed down when he found out the critic had persisted to order his own wine choices and not the ones Thranduil had carefully paired with each course so he had decided that the man had no taste whatsoever and he couldn't give a shit about what he had said.

You had seen the irony in his statement and the state of him, tired, overworked, still behaving like a diva and you had just stifled a laugh and helped him clean the mess in the kitchen.

It was one of those moments that shows you he cares more than he leads on, about life, about people, about what the world thought of him but when it comes to love the man is as warm as deep diving naked in the antarctic would be.

He can be nice, living with him was pleasant and it got a whole lot more comfortable when you got to know each other better.

He makes jokes, he shows you how much he appreciates you through his food, you two watch movies together, go out, get drunk, get home and giggle when one of you trips on the doormat and after a few months he even lets you fall asleep on him when you came home crying because a date didn't go well.

You had seen him drive home in a frenzy when his mother had called him about his younger brother breaking his leg climbing trees, and he had another friend, Bard, with whom he had a friendly get-together every now and again; it was only the romance part he never talks about, never shows, never ever makes room for.

While you go out for dates- he works.

When you meet someone at the club you dance, you make out, you go home with someone else- Thranduil just ignores any woman or man who talks to him.

Thranduil's love life (if existent) is a mystery to you and that makes it even more confusing why he had looked at you the way he did just now. Why would he suddenly decide to buy flowers, to cook you an entire meal because you had been stood up and play-dress up?

Your brain is steaming with these thoughts by the time you catch up with reality again, a snap of fingers in front of your face pulls you back and you blink, slightly dazed. Thranduil stands next to you, body facing the cutting board in front of him but you can see him sneaking a peek towards you out of the corner of his eyes.

"Do you know what you want to do after dinner yet?" he asks, slicing some cilantro and parsley.

His long fingers wrap around the shiny knife elegantly, drawing your gaze in and keeping it locked onto the movement of him cutting a lemon in half and drizzling a few drops of juice into the bowl with the herbs.

You try not to stare at the few drops wetting his palm.

"We should go out," you say, voice wavering in between a question and a hoarse croak. You swallow and move your head before your eyes follow a few seconds later, blinking up at Thranduil. "There is this new rooftop bar- they opened a few days ago and are still baiting people in with the two-for-one drink offer."

Thranduil smirks, leaning his hip against the counter and wiping his hand on the towel. "Ah, yes, because that went so well the last time?" he inquires, eyebrow raised teasingly.

"I couldn't possibly know what you are talking about, Thranduil," you purse your lips, suppressing the smile just barely that threatens to spill out at the memory of the last time you went to a new bar, trying out the "new and never been done before"-drinks the small hipster bar had promised you and that'd ended up being the worst cocktails you ever had.

"You still owe me for the trousers I had to get dry-cleaned because you missy-" he half-threateningly holds out his pointy finger again, "you missed the toilet"

"You could have shoved me in the right direction!"

"Ah yes, blame the man that saved you from throwing up all over your date," Thranduil turns away again, adding coconut milk and chopped tomatoes into the pot with the garlic and onions.

"Occupational hazard of being my friend," you say, giving him the brightest and most dearest smile when he holds out a spoon he'd dipped into the curry, before leaning in and wrapping your lips around it, letting the flavors swirl over your tongue.

Then a low hum leaves your throat, a sound not only shocking you but also Thranduil by the looks of it.

By the look of him.

There is a sudden pink covering his face, right around his nose, showing off his prominent cheekbones in a way that lifts the gorgeous feature even more. It is such an unusual sight, Thranduil, blushing, that you are taken aback by it and the spoon slips out of your lips, nearly falling when Thranduil pulls it out of your mouth, clearing his throat suspiciously loud and rough that it sounds physically hurtful.

He steps back, hiding behind a "Good then?" that you can only agree to with a low "Yes" because– firstly you could never correct him on the taste of something he prepares, he knows your taste well enough to always get the spices perfectly adjusted to your preferences, and secondly your head is blissfully empty for any other answer.

The moment passes, gets drowned out by another timer going off, followed by Thranduil shifting into chef-mode as you endearingly call the shift in his demeanor into a controlled acrobat when he starts handling all those pants and pots, stirring here, tasting there, focusing on everything all at once with a concentration that nothing could penetrate.

You sit back and watch him with a soft smile, observing him as he pulls the bread out of the oven, and exchanges the tray with two dark green bowls out of the cabinets to warm them up in the leftover heat.

He moves with a grace that you surely could not copy, all of his long limbs knowing exactly when to push the rice away from the burner, ducking away when the steam of pouring the hot water into the sink would have given your face a free steaming and all that while looking extremely put together with his tight pant- braid! and white shirt he didn't even bother protecting with an apron like he always forces you to wear.

It's frustrating and attractive how much confidence he oozes in the kitchen. You wonder how the cooks managed to do their job without dropping to the floor and praising him like the godly being he seems to be.

He looks perfectly put together when he finishes plating up and ushers you back into the living room, where you are forced to sit down while he disappears into the kitchen and brings the plates and bowls, shaking off your offer to help every time you can barely start the question.

So you do what is expected of you and you wait, brushing off some hair of your dress- long silver blond strands that you twirl around your finger.

The kitchen light gets dimmed and Thranduil comes into the living room one last time, holding a bottle of wine in his hands that by the looks of it, and by that you mean expensive as fuck, must have been nicked from the restaurant.

He fills your glass, then his own and finally sits down on the other side of the table.

Before you can say something, he raises his glass, "To this evening."

You smile and raise your glass to his, "To Marcus-" Thranduil's eyebrow twitches but you only smile wider "Thank god he canceled, I much rather spend this night with good food and good company"

A deep chuckle accompanies the soft 'clink' of your glasses. You take a first sip, holding Thranduil's gaze over the rim and over the flicking fire of the candles that illuminate his face just right. The wine is smooth, and refreshing as it wets your suddenly dry throat.

You use the plate in front of you as an opportunity to look away without it feeling like you are fleeing from his gaze, even if the thought is heavy in your stomach.

"Everything looks delicious, Thranduil," you say, gesturing to the bowls with the rice and tofu tikka masala, the dough that turned out to be naan that he placed on a wooden board between the flowers and the candle.

Thranduil gives you an appreciative nod, grabbing a naan and ripping it apart. "I tried to make something that comes close to your planned meal of chocolate ice cream," there is a mocking tone in his voice, a drawl on the words chocolate ice cream that is the perfect mix between friendly teasing and his true disgust towards it.

You let out a giggle, following his example of dipping the naan into the curry. "Oh, you are so gracious for trying but we both know that ice cream is high above this. It doesn't even fall in the same food category to be able to compare. If you truly look at it, it's its own category"

"Never mind everything I have said, I've forgotten that I'm talking to the person who thinks a cup of coffee counts as an entire meal. How very stupid of me"

"Not everyone can start their morning looking like you do and have the energy to go out for a run and then cook breakfast," you shoot back, the realization of the compliment slipping out pours onto you when you see Thranduil's lips curve into a very self-satisfactory grin.

"So you are awake to notice," he leans back in his chair, popping another piece of the bread into his mouth and looking so smug that the urge to kick him is rising in you again. "You simply choose to act like you are non-responsive until you've had your coffee."

Instead of kicking him, you roll your eyes and fill your spoon with rice.

Yes, that was one way to put it.

The other would be that you are simply too scared you would say something very stupid and inappropriate when you watched him do his yoga in nothing but very tight pants while you sat on the couch and pretended to stare into empty space that just coincidently was very close to his arching form in front of the window.

"Yes, I live by the rule that coffee comes before any man."

"How rude, to consider me 'any' man," you want to say something but Thranduil is quicker to continue, shutting you up with that gorgeous smile, "Am I not the only man in your life right now who you don't leave on read after a while?"

"That is a very low bar to measure yourself with"

"Darling, those men you date offer nothing but low standards."

You nearly choke on the wine you'd reached for when Thranduil says these words, this term of endearment he casually throws into the sentence, far too confident to be a slip of tongue, far too soft to be meant as mocking.

He said it as if it had never not been there, as if it wasn't completely out of character. For a moment you consider reaching over the table to poke him, to make sure he is really here and not some (very accurate, word class if it truly was one) robotic imitation.

There is a glimmer of mischief in his eyes that only seems to twinkle brighter the longer you stare at him and you wonder if he feels like he has won the discussion or if he can hear your brain mulling over the 'darling'.

Either way, he doesn't comment on it further, not on this nor the matter of your dating.

Why he thought to do so in the first place was a mystery to you, another piece of the puzzle that was this evening. He had made comments about the men you were seeing before, subtle phrases made after glancing over to your screen and the conversations you were having, never really cruel but you wouldn't say that they were particularly nice either.

Sometimes when you came home from a night out, you never brought them back to your flat, Thranduil would simply raise an eyebrow, not saying anything and so much at the same time.

You dig back into your food and like always conversation flows naturally between you. Pushing the teasing and the sizzling of something warm in your stomach that you had felt in the kitchen away into the back of your mind you let yourself enjoy the moment, the comfort of sitting at the table, a nice dinner in front of you and the home-y feeling that was in the air.

Curry and naan fill your stomach as the wine settles in your head and laughter slips your tongue.

Empty plates get pushed aside, forgotten on the side of the table until later, making room for you to prop up one elbow and let your cheek rest in the palm of your hand as Thranduil talks about his newest ideas for his restaurant.

The candles flicker, coloring both your faces golden as the last bit of sunlight sneaks away from the tiny crack in the curtains.

After another glass of wine and some well-coordinated cleaning up, a hand-in-hand process of taking the plates into the kitchen where you load the dishwasher and Thranduil wipes down the pots and pans in the sink, Thranduil throws you out of the kitchen again.

You hop into the bathroom, spend a few minutes staring at yourself in the mirror and try to think about the outcome of this evening.

A few hours ago you had been ready to go out with someone else but right now, in the dim light that is too bright to conceal how flushed your cheeks are and too dark to be the glimmering sparkle in your eyes, there is not one thought wasted on any other guy.

It's a complicated feeling, being confronted with the crush you'd harbored on Thranduil for a while now and while it wasn't always easy to keep it at bay, it had been nowhere near as hard to keep your focus on the big fat label of 'friendship' that was the only thing ever to be between you.

Yes, you know that that label should hamper the want.. the need to kiss the ever-living daylight out of Thranduil when he stared at you across those flickering candles but who wouldn't want to do that to an attractive man showering you with attention he had given you today?

Any normal-thinking person would.

At least that is what you tell yourself, that these feelings are normal because he is attractive and not just because you are attracted to him.

Back in the living room, you fall onto the sofa, legs stretched and feet propped onto the small table in front of the couch, and fight the urge to cuddle into the pillows more than necessary. Any deeper and you would for sure fall asleep and with how your evening is going, that that would be a shame was an understatement.

"Thranduil?" you call out when another minute passes and the noises of washing up had quietened down and Thranduil still wasn't out of the kitchen again.

"One moment," his deep voice responds with a subtle grunt, "You can begin your search for a bar and please don't let it be the rooftop bar you mentioned earlier."

On another day you would have chosen a bar or even a club to go to, especially after your stomach did that traitorous summersault at the sound of his voice again.

Tonight, with your cozy little apartment smelling like fresh flowers and curry and your mind clinging onto a possessive and dangerous thought of 'What if..'´ you suddenly can't think of anything worse than going out with Thranduil.

Going out would mean that Thranduil's attention wouldn't be on you alone anymore.

"Thranduil?" you call out again, "Let's stay in and watch a movie."

"What?" He pops his head out of the kitchen and you giggle at the sight of soap bubbles on his nose as he wipes his hand over his surprised face. He rolls his eyes, lifting one arm, - oh god his sleeves are rolled up, exposing far too much skin and veiny arms for you to think clear- and wipes the soap away. "I thought you wanted to go out."

"No," you draw the word out, still hung up on the smooth-looking skin, "We talked about going out or watching a movie," shuffling your shoulders into the pillows you smile at him "and I think we should watch a movie. It has been a while since we did that."

Thranduils face softens and he cocks his head, "It has," he agrees, the tenderness in his eyes reaching his voice.

With Thranduil running his restaurant and your work demanding more of you there hadn't been a lot of time you had sat down and watched something together recently.

You still had your mornings full of nursing coffee and yoga and the evenings where you weren't on a date or Thranduil away on business you had gone out together.

The summer with all its warm and sunny days and bars filled with cool drinks and long evenings fading into soft blue nights had been fun- that didn't mean you didn't miss cuddling into a blanket on the couch and watching a movie with Thranduil where you spend the entire time making small comments only to annoy him.

"How about you sort out what movie you want to see and I'll fetch us a snack?" he proposes and you let out a hum. Thranduil starts to turn away, then halters, "And if you could find anything other than 'Pride and Prejudice' I would be very grateful."

You did, in fact, not search further for the movie that you had started earlier.

Something that Thranduil comments with a loud "God, please do not do this to me," when he reenters the living room.

Stubbornly, you shake your head, your finger dancing over the buttons on the remote control. "You won't know if you like it or not if you never stay to watch it through! What if this is your movie? You say you don't have a favorite movie, Thranduil- this could be it!" Your arms flare in the air, pointing the remote to the screen while you try your best to sound as motivational as you can under the skeptical raise of his eyebrow - though the corner of his lips twitch, betraying his amusement however hard he wants to look self-assured in his completely (unreasonable) hate for the movie you consider one of the best of all time.

It's only when he saunters closer that you see what he holds in his hands and it momentarily lets you forget the never-ending argument.

"Ice cream!"

He laughs deep and rough, always a bit darker and richer when he has drunk wine, his voice and tone taking on the velvety edge that clouds your mind just as much as the alcohol.

"That was much more enthusiastic than the reaction to the soufflé I made you a while back. Should I take offense? Is this your revenge for my dislike of this Darcy that you so obsess about?"

Sticking out your tongue you grab one of the two buckets he holds out to you, as Thranduil takes his place on the couch; always on the longer side where he could stretch out his long legs. "Do not disrespect the man of my dreams or I will buy the mac-just-add-milk-cheese," you open the lid of the carton box, reaching over to the table to place it there.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Mhm, I wonder if they still have the ones that only need water?"

"Please just press play you vicious woman," Thranduil pokes his finger into your side, admitting defeat with a desperate sigh and opens his own box of ice cream. When he sees you staring at it, he rolls his eyes. "What now? Can't a man enjoy something sweet once in a while?"

"A man yes," you snort "But you-" you poke him as well, "you're always on me when I buy ice cream and now you eat.. what is that..?"

Leaning into his space you ignore how Thranduil swats at you gently like he wants to get rid of a fly "It's chocolate, no way! My, my, should I call your health insurance and warn them that we will need a checkup? Maybe a brain-"

"Goodness gracious!" Thranduil groans, a sound that reverberates through you as you are still leaning into him, one hand propped next to his thigh, "Will you shut up or do I have to do that for you?"

That does shut you up instantly.

Not a sound leaves your mouth - left wide open as if he had simply pressed paused on your whole body - and you slowly turn your head away from him and back to the screen.

Now, while he did shock you enough with his words to let the teasing about the ice cream slide back down your very much dry throat, you can't help it to at least attempt to have the last word.

To calm your racing heart if not to for the sudden lack of thoughts, "Only if you swear to watch the whole movie without talking shit about Mister Darcy"

"Half of it and a little bit of shit-talking?"

"All of it and none of that!"

"Just let me make my comments and I will buy you your ice cream next time."

You squint your eyes, challenging him to stay with the offer and consider if it's worth it.

You could easily buy your own snacks, you did it every day you went grocery shopping anyway but there was a satisfying pleasure in knowing that the great Thranduil, hater of all sweets, would not only pick out ice cream for you, but pay for it as well.

Maybe he would even throw in something else as well, if you agreed to him and let him make his jokes.

In the end, you were simply grateful that he was here, sitting on the couch to watch a movie he knows means a lot to you, despite his dislike for it, and maybe that was enough..

"Deal!"

Finally, you eagerly press play, allowing the soft piano music to fill the room a second time this day.

While you can't help but smile, muttering the words into the spoons full of ice cream, Thranduil is less mean than you thought he would be. In the beginning, you could see him rolling his eyes whenever Mr. Darcy came on screen - something you commented with a sigh and a giggle - but like you always predicted, he soon relaxed into the cushions.

His face softens, just like his comments, mouth corners turning up as he watches the discussion between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth in the reading room.

In one particularly dramatic scene, you turn to Thranduil with wide eyes. "See? See? Mister Darcy is just misunderstood. He's so in love with Elizabeth, but he doesn't know how to express it properly."

Thranduil rolls his eyes playfully. "Oh, please. He just needs to learn how to be less insufferable."

You lean closer to him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know, you could learn a thing or two from Darcy, Thranduil."

He scoffs. "Me? Like what?"

Despite the tone he lifts one arm so that you can really lean into his side and you follow the invitation. Drawing your legs up, ignoring that the hem of your dress rides up your thigh, you scoot into Thranduil's space and rest your back against the length of his chest. His arm remains on the headrest of the couch.

You grin. "How to sweep a girl off her feet. Be a little less aloof and a little more... passionate–" your voice wanders into a wistful sigh, words getting lost as you watch with bated breath as Mister Darcy helps Elizabeth into the carriage.

There is a deep rumble behind you, a hot exhale of breath hitting the back of your head and while it seems like Thranduil wants to say something, he remains silent.

When you slightly turn your head, you see him watching the screen with a look in his eyes that you can't pin point.

"Why exactly does he flex his hand like that?" Thranduil quizzes with what sounds like genuine interest and you nearly bounce off the couch in excitement.

"Okay so there are multiple ways that this could be interpreted, some think it represents his armor cracking because he has been so buttoned-up, closed-off all the time and now his muscles betray the character he is putting on," you start, the words tumbling out of your mouth fast and rushed now that Thranduil shows his interest "It's like he is unraveling slowly but surely."

"It's also the first time they touch," you add.

Thranduil cocks his head, "It is?"

The grin on your face grows wider and you nod enthusiastically. "Yes! It's the first time they touch and it's pure skin to skin contact which was totally scandalous in their time, hence the gloves and long sleeves. Imagine going on through your life with these walls built around you as a way to protect your heart and then there is this infuriating woman."

"I can't imagine," Thranduil throws in yet it's so quietly that you nearly miss it.

Nearly.

Your tongue trips over a few words as you continue speaking, caught on what Thranduil had said under his breath as if it had been meant for only him, "-well and she.. she is rebellious. She does not follow the etiquette of wearing gloves, she speaks her mind freely and she contradicts everything that you have been taught," you count on your fingers "And she must have been the first woman in a long time that has touched him like that, even if it's as simple as using his help getting into the carriage"

"Mhm," Thranduil raises the arm that isn't behind you and taps his lips. "And you find that moment important for their building romance?"

"Without a doubt in my mind."

"Alright."

And with that, the topic is dropped and you both return to watch the movie.

That is until Thranduil's arm drops lower.

At first, you think it could have been unintentional, physics and gravity and all that stuff being the reason that his arm fell or slipped from the headrest on your shoulders.

It happens, maybe it had been tiresome to leave it up there, stretched away at such an angle. That is what you tell yourself in the few seconds where his arm simply.. stays still.. but then his arm bends at the elbow and the movement is so slow, so careful that your brain has enough time to forget the movie and focus on how delicately wary his hand comes into contact with the naked skin of your arm.

At first, it's just his fingertips.

Trembling ever so slightly they ghost over your biceps, giving the impression that he is still unsure on how to proceed and you wait, trying your hardest not to flex your arm and maybe scare him away and it's the hardest thing - this kind of touch was rare.

The waiting and effort are worth every second of agonizing stillness because following the tips is the hot palm of his hand, curving around your upper arm and holding you.

Your senses are aflame like the candles, lavender clouding your mind, cold ice cream melting on your tongue as the rough skin of his fingertips trails over your arm in the smallest circles.

Reflecting on the previous conversation there is one sentiment burning its way through your body, bringing with it all the moments of today, his hands on your leg in the kitchen, the storm of emotions crackling through his eyes like thunder, splitting his facade like lightening, the way he had reacted on spoonfeeding you the curry, the tension.

This has to mean something.

This has to be something.

You make up your mind to confront him about it even before he opens his mouth for the next commentary again.

"Darcy sure has a fantastic way to show his love," his tone was dripping with sarcasm.

"Nothing screams more 'I love you' than separating the sister of the woman you love from your best friend because you think the family is far too poor and lacks social etiquette," he scoffs, seemingly being his normal self and you would have believed him if his eyes didn't dart towards you, hinting at a touch of nervousness in those cerulean seas which lack the usual confidence.

"Maybe he is unsure how to tell her that he loves her," you say, holding his gaze.

"Well, there are other ways than this," Thranduil says, pointing toward the screen where Darcy is now standing painfully awkward in Charlotte's home that Elizabeth visits.

While you know that he is trying to follow Elizabeths advice of simple conversation, Thranduil doesnt seem to make that connection.

"Why aren't you out and about flirting with women?" It is a slip of the tongue, led on by the teasing you are so used to yet it comes out far too soft, far too wobbly. Quickly you add to the question with what is half cough, half laugh: "Huh, I mean if you are so sure that Darcy is doing something wrong, you should be picking up women, right?"

Thranduil raises an eyebrow in confusion. He opens his mouth, slightly tilting his head. "What? Why should I do that?"

Now you wonder if he was more stupid than you thought or if you heavily missed him having a girlfriend. Or not a girlfriend, or a partner. Were you that ignorant? Did you miss anything he told you about his sexuality?

"I–" you stutter "I didn't want to pry. I´m sorry. I.. I'm just wondering why you never go out on dates"

"Oh," there is a solemn look on his face "Ah, I had hoped this wouldn't come up for a while longer," He pauses, glancing at the TV and a feeble smile has the corner of his mouth twitching.

You don't have to follow his gaze to know that Mister Darcy has just followed Elizabeth into the rain; the only scene Thranduil has ever watched with you.

Maybe you had been ignorant before but the resigned tone in his voice is loud and clear. "We don't have to talk about it!" you rush in, "Really. No need to converse. Let's just watch the movie alright?" Without thinking about it, your hand moves to his chest, a reflex to gently pat him that dies when you feel the hard thumping of his heart through his shirt.

"I could never date someone, let alone think about a woman the way I think about you."

There it was again, the casualness that had tainted the 'Darling' from earlier. You would have laughed, hell, it is already bubbling up your throat when the heaviness of his confession crashes down on you and all that leaves you is a choked sound and a sudden lack of air has you gasping.

The combination of both hurts but not enough to cover the flutter in your stomach.

"What?" you ask not because you didn't understand him, you had heard every word, every syllable clear and distinct, but because you can't believe that you had heard it.

Your hand still rests atop his chest, feeling the heartbeat- hard and fast.

The same way he suddenly pressed his mouth on yours.

It happens quickly, leaving no time for you to react how you want to react and the only thing you can do is gasp.

The kiss ends as swiftly as it has started at the sound yet Thranduil doesnt withdraw completely. His mouth hovers over yours, his breath ghosting over your dry lips. There was a question in it, the same that is in his eyes when you gather the courage to look up.

Thranduil wasn't this hesitant, he was efficient, confident and so fucking sure of himself that his lack of those qualities right now spoke just as much as the kiss itself.

In the background, you hear rain but all you feel is your mind clearing up like the sky after the downpour.

Without further hesitation, you nod and Thranduil lunges forward again, this time with enough force that you lose your balance - or maybe it was the feel of his lips on yours that prevented you from catching yourself as you fall backward and crash into the pillows.

As far as first kisses go, most of the ones you had with guys were significantly worse. They were usually awkward, sometimes even uncomfortable because you weren't yet attuned to each other, but you weren't kissing a strange guy in a bar here.

You were kissing Thranduil.

You had been friends for years, you had seen each other in the most embarrassing situations, he had probably been confronted with your unclothed body more often than others, and if there was one thing he had noticed, it was what disappointed you about your dates.

And while he kissed you silly and stupid you were happy about exactly this perceptiveness.

His hair falls around you like a curtain, his chest presses against yours and you get so used to the weight of his body on yours like it has never been different.

And you hope it will never be any different.

"Shit," Thranduil groans against your lips, and you open your eyes, smiling up at him in a daze.

"What?"

"Now-" he kisses you again "Now that we got this out of the way.." Another kiss, a soft bite on your lips and you are so fucking glad to know that no woman has experienced this from him in a while. You are getting addicted to his kisses fast "..can you please stop dating these assholes and let me take you out for a real dinner?"

You nod hastily and lift your head to catch his mouth again. You only let him go for another second, when the perfect place pops into your mind - the last thought for the rest of the evening probably.

"Let's go to 'Oakenshields'"

#thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil fanfiction #lord of the rings fanfiction #the hobbit fanfiction #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings x you #lotr x reader

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mybworlds · 2 months

Text

Animae duae, animus unus

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader | W.C. 4.6K

Summary: Your father marries you to General Acacius, the most powerful and feared man in Rome after the Emperor.

Warnings: use of you, arranged marriage, unspecified age gap, constraint, loss of virginity, SMUT, pinv, masturbation, sub/dom dynamics (?), Marcus is neither a bad or a good guy here, he's a man of that time (almost!).

A/N I think I completely lost my mind seeing the trailer, folks, so a new idea about General Marcus Acacius crossed my mind. I studied a while ago about the condition of women at the time of Roman age, but a few things could change and not to be historically accurate.

"It's a great honor. For you and our family." that's what your father told you when he decided you should get married.

You should have married a man you don't know at all, a man much older than you, a man whose name alone was enough to make everyone tremble. He's best known for his skill in using the sword, for being a great orator and for being in close contact with Emperor Geta and his brother Caracalla.

You know nothing about the General, you saw him once or twice, you still remember those meetings and what you felt. They made you dress with great care, they made you wear your best tunic, there was a lace that tightened your waist to enhance your figure even more. You were accompanied by your mother and a handmaid in the presence of your father and the man to whom your father wanted to give you in exchange for a better social position and other favors. When you arrive to the triclinium, your father and another man were eating while lying down. Their eyes fell on you and you heard your father introduce you to the man.

The man left the bunch of grapes he was nibbling and came towards you. You only glimpsed the movement as you were told to keep your head down and be submissive in order to make a good impression to him.

You were sure you looked very nervous at that moment, you were afraid. You didn't know who you were supposed to marry, you didn't know anything about him, but you were sure of one thing: you didn't love him.

He wore a finely adorned white and red tunic with two eagles sewn on the chest, a crimson waist belt, a cloak of the same colors and boots. You saw his hand lift and then reach for your chin, he squeezed it and made your head lift so your eyes met. He certainly has very beautiful eyes, in that light they seemed to be honey-colored, but what he did you didn't like at all because he started to to examine you as if he wanted to pierce you through, you could barely hold his gaze.

"Is she all right?" you heard him ask your father, turning slightly towards him.

His voice was confident, deep, raspy and for some reason it made your skin crawl. You looked at him sideways and noticed how tall and broad he was.

"Y-yes, sure, General." your father replied concerned to the idea he could miss the opportunity to make a leap forward in society.

"She's shaking." the General noted, looking back at you and almost piercing you with his gaze.

"She's just a little nervous." your father replied again almost coming alongside the General looking so short next to the man.

The General began to walk around you and observe every little detail of you as if he were looking at a horse at the market and deciding whether to buy it or not. He didn't touch you except for your chin, but you still felt overwhelmed by his gaze and his physical presence.

"I'd like to hear her voice, Tracius." the General said again, turning to your father who swallowed, almost intimidated by the man's tone of voice.

Your father called you almost abruptly, making you suddenly raise your head and inviting you to say something nice to the General. Something that wouldn't make him miss this opportunity, of course.

You didn't know what to say to the General, you were so intimidated by him, all you managed to ask him was how he was. You didn't know if it was correct or appropriate to ask a man of his social status to ask such questions in public, but you had no idea he'd have asked to hear you speak.

He smirked and looked at you with an amused look as if you had just performed a pantomime. You didn't know whether to feel offended or whether to smile too at his strange reaction. When in doubt, you lowered your head and waited to know what you had to do to please your parent.

"General, she will be an excellent wife and will certainly be able to please you. Whatever your desire is, she will be able to satisfy it." your father said as if you weren't even there.

"I'm sure." he said, you didn't know what his expression was since your head was down and the heart in your chest was beating furiously with fear and discomfort.

"So it's decided, General?" your father asked, you recognized that tone of voice: he was scared, but not because he feared for your fate, he was just afraid of losing this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

"Sure." the man replied, then the two men moved towards the triclinia and you were dismissed.

That same day they decided what advantages would come from your marriage union, if children were born there would be even more opportunities and then naturally under which moons will your union take place.

It's the night before the wedding and you don't know what to feel, how you should feel, you're in your room and you feel a deep discomfort. There is a lot of shouting outside, the slaves go back and forth. Tonight is your last night here, in your bed, in your room, in your house. From tomorrow you will no longer live here, but you will live in the domus of General Acacius. You will be his property.

The next day, after barely eating anything, you are joined by a couple of maids who help you undress and bathe in a scented water. Subsequently, according to an ancient custom you wear a very white tunic with a belt at your waist. The white represents your purity and virginity and the belt is a sort of lucky charm for your union and with the hope that the marriage with the General will bring the arrival of many children. They comb and braid your hair into a complicated hairstyle, then make you wear lots of jewelry and only then, when you look at yourself in the mirror, you realize you're trembling for fear. You don't want to, but you can't escape.

They then place a crown full of beautiful flowers on your head. You remember when your father still allowed you to run along the meadows to pick wild, fragrant flowers. Oh, you were so happy then!

They then place the veil on your head, completely enveloping your figure. Your world completely changes color and turns orange. The maids smile at you, perhaps you should force yourself to smile, but your muscles are paralyzed.

When you leave your room for the last time, you hear singing and festive music coming from outside and when you leave, you find General Acacius followed by a procession of friends, relatives and powerful people of Rome waiting for you.

The General wears an even more elegant toga than last time. His toga is a splendid golden and white color. On it there is the symbol of two golden eagles embroidered on his chest. The cape on his shoulders falls softly along his back greatly enhancing his strong presence. He gives you a long silent look. His gaze is serene, but serious.

A first seal is placed which symbolizes your union from a formal point of view and with which you formally become a property of the man at your side. The sacrifice of an animal then takes place, followed by other ritual phrases. You feel completely dazed, you hear and pronounce everything you have learned by heart, you know what needs to be done, but the anxiety and fear are paralyzing you.

You lift your veil and raise your head to meet the eyes of the man you are marrying.

His gaze is serious, he scrutinizes you carefully. It's difficult to understand or guess what he thinks, while you on the other hand are certainly visibly tense and scared.

His hair is a mass of dark curls, his beard patched and peppered with gray. All in perfect contrast with his tanned skin. He smells of oils and incense.

Your join your hands and therefore with these rituals your union is official. You try to smile, but you're sure that a grimace rather than a smile has appeared on your face. Your groom smiles at you and smiles at the procession that had accompanied him to your house.

A lavish banquet follows accompanied by music, the presence of poets, musicians who enrich the event, you and your husband are sitting next to each other. Your husband has two of his servants taste and drink before starting to eat and sip his wine. He notices your gaze, even if you do everything you can to keep it down or elsewhere, and then he addresses you for the first time without your father present, "You can never be too careful, my wife."

You swallow and nod and then look away, at your father. He's happy, he's toasting and eating his fill. He argues with another man and talks profusely.

"Do you want it?" your husband asks you, handing you a cup of wine which you take in your slightly shaking hands, he must have noticed because he adds, "Have you ever drank before?" you shake your head "Drink little and slowly, I want a wife who will be present on the wedding night."

You look away and witness a dance where a victory in battle is being staged to praise and exalt your husband's abilities.

It's dusk when you definitively leave your home, when you are torn from the arms of your mother to whom you cling one last time, then you are taken to your husband's house, and from today your house, by a small group of guests. The General is no where to be found.

A great noise surrounds you, many torches light the way to your future domus, many songs accompany your journey. You are confused, disorientated and also a little intrigued by the idea of having caused so much joviality along the dark streets of Rome with that event.

The procession stops in front of the General's domus who is there in front of the door waiting for you. You reach him and before you can enter you must perform yet another ritual and lastly you and your husband seal your union in front of the procession with one last sentence "Ubi tu Gaius, ibi ego Gaia", now you can cross the threshold of your husband's house into the arms of two guests who lift you up.

You are in what is now your domus and now you have to consummate your marriage.

Your husband is in front of you and seems to want to devour you, he caresses your cheek possessively, you look at him with fearful eyes and then he walks away to take off the ornaments worn during this long day.

From here you can no longer escape. You are in the bedroom and a maid takes all your jewels, bracelets, flower crown, hairpins off of you. The handmaid talks to you, she tells you how and what to do with your husband, how to satisfy him, but you know nothing of all this and you are afraid.

You find yourself praying, keeping your eyes closed in an expression of almost terror. You didn't even realize that the man came back and the handmaid went away.

Your husband is in front of you, he searches your eyes and finds them full of fear, "Don't worry," he tells you, "no one has ever complained." you swallow feeling your heart pounding in your chest “You are my third wife, you know?” he tells you, as he lowers his eyes to your belt and slowly runs a finger between it and your robe.

You shudder. You don't know if it was because of the gesture or because he confided in you that you are his third wife. You'd be curious to know what happened to the other two women before you, but his hands are untying the belt which falls to the red carpet at your feet.

"Watch me." he orders and you obey. You are his now. You must obey. There is no other way.

You look at him. His tanned skin seems to stand out even more between these four walls, in your bedroom.

His eyes follow the movements of his hands as they move your tunic aside, opening it with a deliberate slowness.

You're trembling and when he looks up at your face he can see and feel all your tension himself because his hands remain still on your hips.

"You don't have to be afraid, I don't want to hurt you. But you know it has to be done, right?" his voice is hoarse, but velvety.

You nod. You would like to run away, but your father has now given you up to him, you are his from now on. And he wants to own you.

"I want to hear your voice, please. It's not your father here, but your husband, and your husband wants to hear your voice." the tone of voice is delicate, but authoritative.

"All right." you simply reply, looking first at his face and then at his hands which are still on you.

"That's better." he comments with a small grin on his face "You're scared." he adds and his is not a question, but a statement. One of his hands leaves your side and goes up your stomach, your ribs, just touching your breast, then reaching your neck and finally your cheek. "You don't have to. I don't want you to have any." his voice is always authoritative, but his eyes are characterized by a great sweetness creating a strange contrast.

"I'm sorry." is the only thing you can think of to say. You lower your head.

"Watch me." He calls you back and you obey "You are a beautiful woman, you are my wonderful new wife." he adds, tightening his grip on the back of your neck.

You almost jump at that sudden gesture, you tremble and your heart beats hard in your chest. You don't know what to expect, you just know that you will be in pain and that he will almost certainly not be kind to you.

His hands push the edges of your tunic away, exposing you to his sight. His gaze is focused and he seems to appreciate what he sees. He then slides your tunic off your shoulders onto the floor and you are left with only two pieces of thin fabric covering your breasts and your privates.

He devours you with his gaze, he scrutinizes you as if he were a predator who is deciding how and when to attack his prey. His eyes are shining and you don't know what to do or how to behave.

"Come." he says, taking your hand and leading you towards a bed full of flower petals. “Sit down.” he orders.

You're scared, you feel your hands and arms as if they were lead. Tears begin to gather in the back of your eyes. You can't cry. You do not have to cry.

He takes your chin between his fingers, forcing you to suddenly lift your head upwards. He's huge, he towers over you. You feel even smaller around him.

"You're beautiful. You have the softest skin I've ever touched, darling." he says, touching your shoulders and then your arms. Your skin crawls as you follow your husband's hands with your gaze. He caresses you gently, while his gaze devours you.

"Undress me." he orders you and you, opening your eyes wide for a moment, obey with trembling hands. You bend down to untie his shoes, then sit back down and reluctantly untie his belt. You look at him for a moment before standing up and lifting his robe off over his head.

Naked he's even more impressive. Massive. Muscled. Although he's significantly older than you, he shows no signs of sagging with age.

"Have you ever seen a man?" he asks, probably noticing your quizzically look.

"N - no " you reply feeling an ever-increasing tension rising inside you at the thought that he will soon be on top of you and inside you.

"Do you even know your body? Do you know what you like and what you don't?" he asks you, perplexed and almost impatient.

You shake your head, “I – I've never had this urge.” you reply and he cocks his head to the side in surprise. “Sorry, General.” you add.

"General?!" he repeats, slightly widening his eyes and raising his eyebrows in a surprised expression "Here, in our room, I don't want formalities. In this room for you I'm Marcus."

Marcus.

"When we are in public you will call me husband only, okay?" he continues, caressing your lower lip with his thumb. You nod.

"Lie down." orders you Marcus. You lie down and put your head on the pillow. If you weren't so scared you would appreciate the softness of the bed and the softness of the pillows, but you're too focused on other things at the moment.

Marcus reaches you and it is in that moment that you see him and perceive him in his total might.

He places his hands behind your knees and opens your legs and then slides in between them. You swallow in fear.

"My wife doesn't have to be afraid of me." he tells you before bringing his face closer to yours. You almost gasp when he rests his forehead against yours. Then, he slowly places his lips on yours.

You've never kissed anyone, you don't know exactly what should be done or how you should feel about it, you just know that you have to please your spouse.

You feel his tongue caress your bottom lip and then ask for permission to enter yours, you don't want to, but you can't help it. You part your lips and his tongue enters between your lips exploring your mouth and seeking your tongue. You slowly imitate what he's doing even though, you're sure, you have a disgusted expression on your face. His kiss tastes like wine and spices, it's not a bad taste, maybe the problem is you who can't appreciate that gesture.

His muscular arms are on the sides of your face enveloping you completely.

You don't know exactly where to put your hands so you leave them at your sides.

He brings first one of your hand and then the other to his bare hip. All without interrupting that kiss, you interrupt it a few moments later by turning your head, but he takes your chin in his hands and searches for your lips again, while he caresses your bare side with one hand, his hand goes up to your breast and then goes down again and caresses your thigh and leg.

His lips move along your jaw, chin and then rest on your neck where he leaves a trail of wet kisses. You tilt your head to the side, he continues to kiss you softly your collarbones. Although your head is on the side and tell yourself again that you don't want to, your body reacts to his ministrations.

You exhale deeply, closing your eyes, your husband's lips — Marcus' — are on your breast, even though it's still covered. It's a hot cold sensation you're experiencing. You've never experienced anything like that. It's a feeling that almost scares you.

Your husband reaches up a little and first tears the fabric covering your breast and then he does the same thing with the other piece of fabric. You flinch in fear. Now he will take you by force, you think. You turn your head and wait to feel pain.

Marcus stops kissing you and looks at you. Your head turned sideaways, some of your hair covering your face. He moves them away before saying your name and drawing your attention back to him.

"Even if your head says no, your body is saying otherwise, my beautiful young bride." Marcus tells you "I know you don't know or love me," with this phrase he gets your attention, "I don't know or love you either, but time will surely help us." he adds, "I know you're scared, I know you're inexperienced, and I'm sure you know you're going to be in pain." you nod "I assure you that I'll do everything I can to make you feel as little pain as possible."

You appreciate it. You really appreciate it. The fear for the last gesture he made is slowly fading. You don't know if it's a trick to make you relax, but if it is, he's succeeding.

"Now I'm going to do something, I don't want you to hold back." you frown and look at him questioningly "It's not unpleasant, but it might seem strange to you at first."

He gives you a quick kiss on your lips, you close your eyes instinctively, then you reopen them when you feel his hands first and then his lips exploring your body.

That feeling again. It's not pleasant, but it's not the other way around either. It's strange.

His lips linger on your breasts, more precisely on your nipples which stiffen in response to his cares.

You moan feeling your skin crawl and close your eyes. You feel so strange. You frown, keeping your eyes closed. You thought that by now your marriage was already consummated and he had already left you alone with your pain but instead. . .

He leaves your breast and then moves his lips down to your belly, then goes down between your legs. You gasp when you feel the now torn piece of fabric being pulled away from your intimacy which is now completely exposed to his lustful gaze.

“Is it now that you're going to hurt me?” you ask, raising your head towards him. He raises his head and you see his eyes — now decidedly darker — staring at you and then he shakes his head.

He lowers his head towards your intimacy again and places a kiss there before starting to lick you.

You jump and instinctively move to close your legs, but he grabs your ankles and reopens your legs, exposing you again to his expert tongue.

It's the strangest sensation you've ever felt, it almost tickles you and at the same time it causes strange cramps in your stomach. It almost feels like you're on fire. A small moan escapes you, or rather more than one. If before, you would have liked him not to touch you, now it doesn't seem so unpleasant anymore, on the contrary.

His tongue seems to want to dig inside you and you arch your back throwing your head back with a sigh.

"Marcus?" you name him.

He shows no signs of stopping, in fact this gesture shakes you more and more.

"I feel strange, I think - I think there's something... wrong." you moan almost scared from the unknown sensation you are feeling with him.

Marcus raises his head breaking that contact "What are you feeling?" he asks as he dives into your folds again.

“I have a weird feeling here,” you respond reaching for his big hand and bringing it to your stomach, you jump when he focuses on a specific area of your womanhood.

"Oh, Marcus. . ." you groan "By Jove!" you start to moan uncontrollably and only then you realize that you are completely wet in your intimacy.

Then your vision blurs and you can almost see sparks behind your eyelids.

Only when this unknown tension leaves your body and you relax completely against the mattress, Marcus stops and moves back onto you.

You look into his eyes looking for something, but you don't even know what. He smiles at you tenderly, taking your hand in his and intertwining your fingers. You tremble, but not from fear. Now.

He kisses you and this time you return the gesture with less uncertainty. He places a hand in your hair for a moment in an affectionate gesture, then he sits down on his knees and you observe his body curiously: his toned arms, his chest, his soft belly and then your attention is drawn to what you have only seen once in a painting, his virility.

It's really big, its tip is red and seems to be crossed by many veins, you're attracted to it and he must have noticed your look, "Do you want to touch it?"

You nod, “May I?”

"You are my wife." it's his answer. You sit up, putting aside the uncertainty and even a hint of fear, then you reach out a hand towards him.

It's huge, you touch his tip and he jumps, you look up at him looking for confirmation. He takes your hand and wraps it around his huge manhood. You can't touch your thumb and forefinger, it's so big.

"Like this." he whispers guiding your movements back and forth along his cock. When he understands that he can abandon himself to your ministrations, he releases your hand and abandons himself by closing his eyes.

You didn't think the evening would go like this. You didn't believe he was so patient and taught you so much. You didn't believe that caressing him would give you so many shivers and that it would make him harden more and more in your hand. You didn't think you'd ever see an expression of abandon and pure bliss painted on his face. Everything's magnificent. He is magnificent.

He grunts and groans as he throws his head back, some of his curls fall onto his sweaty forehead, his eyes are closed and his lips parted. At this moment he almost reminds you of a Greek god which you could admire in a painting when you once visited Athens a long time ago.

“Now stop,” he orders you. You obey, observing the tense features of his face, he lowers his head and looks at you. Now his eyes are two black pools that seem to want to swallow you. "Lie down." he adds and you obey.

In this position and with his manhood in his fist he reminds you a lot of the statue of the god Jupiter seen in the temple a few moons ago.

He lies on top of you, he caresses your face and moves a lock of hair behind your ears "Now I'm going to hurt you a little." he warns you "Are you ready?"

You don't know if you really are, but now you want to live everything to the fullest. You nod.

You see your husband spread your legs just a little more, then he squeezes his manhood in his fist and aligns it with your intimacy. You hold your breath as you see his manhood approaching you.

"Watch me." he says in an authoritative tone and you obey, eyes widening when the tip of his cock begins to dig in with greater force than his tongue had done before.

You try to maintain eye contact, but you're feeling a burning pain, tears build up in the back of your eyes and your skin crawls. Marcus places a hand on your cheek and then gently kisses your other cheek first, then kisses your forehead, your eyelids, your mouth and then all over again.

You feel full. Full of him. You're out of breath, your eyes are still closed and you're still holding your breath. "You're very good." he tells you, kissing your lips again. He caresses your hips, “Baby, I need to move.” he warns you.

You open your eyes, you're still out of breath, a tear rolls down your cheek which Marcus promptly wipes away by kissing it "It's okay, my sweet wife. You are going to be okay."

You gulp looking at his dark eyes, while he slowly starts to move. You squeeze your eyes for the pain, but you don't want Marcus stops. He pushes inside of you once, twice, three times before you start to moan and not for the pain. You raise your head hiding it in the crook of his neck, while he pushes with greater force back and forth. He places his hands on your hips to soften the blow.

You groan feeling on fire again, "It's almost done," he warns you moaning while he tightens his grip on your hips, "I'm coming, baby." he adds and then he release a long whine in your ear before to collapse on you.

"Remember," he says "I am yours and you are mine. Forever. And forever I will take care of you. I will do everything in my power to always make you feel safe and, if we can, loved."

#marcus acacius x f!reader #marcus acacius fic #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius #general marcus acacius #general acacius #marcus acacius fanfic #the gladiator 2 #the Gladiator II fanfic #the Gladiator II fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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atinylittlepain · 5 months

Text

Little Pinch

nurse!marcus pike x f!reader

she needs to get bloodwork done. one small problem, getting bloodwork done never goes well for her, especially not when she's distracted by the very kind, very handsome nurse doing it.

wordcount | 3.3K

content info | 18+ discussions of getting bloodwork that includes needles, fainting, nausea, mostly fluff, nurse marcus to the rescue, this is just a fun time, also an un-beta'd time so like, be nice pls

a/n | shoutout to the girls (gn) that pass out every time they get blood work done (me). I have to get new labs tomorrow morning, and writing this is how I coped with that prospect :') this one is for the fainters, the thin veiners, the "just do it in my hand"-ers - i see you, i am you, gawd bless

..........................................................................

Here’s the thing, this never goes well. It wasn’t always like this though. She has a vague memory of being a kid and taking it like a perfect champ, testing for mono after a rash of cases at school. But then, well, something changed.

It runs in her family. Thin veins that are hard for even the best nurses to find, lots of oh, I just lost it, and well, let’s try your other arm, and always, ultimately, hands? Should we try the hands? No, the nurses never listen when she tells them to just start with the hands, and without fail, somewhere around the third or fourth time they try to get the needle in, a cold sweat breaks, and the room starts to filter through a fuzzy pinhole of vision. It’s embarrassing, she thinks, because, really, she has no problem with needles. Can watch it go in, no issues with piercings, et cetera, et cetera, but getting blood drawn? Yeah, forget about it. She usually comes to with paperwork around her feet that she had been holding, and a well-meaning nurse pressing a damp paper towel to her forehead and breathing the remnants of her lunch over her face and alright, hon? Usually a box of apple juice and an escort out to her car to make sure she doesn’t go offline again.

The other thing is, unfortunately, she’s pretty sure her little fainting, fading thing has gotten worse over the years. A conditioned response, she thinks, that cold sweat starts the second she walks into the waiting room, already anticipating what comes next. And today, well, even worse than some of the others. Twelve hours fasted, and no, that certainly won’t help her case, no matter how much water she downed before she came here, no matter how tight she squeezes her fist in the hopes of pumping even one vein up enough to be tenable. She looks at the woman sitting across from her in the waiting room, reading a back-ordered issue of Cosmo, flipping and flippant and really, why can’t she be like that? Why can’t she be normal like that? Instead, her heel is doing a frantic tap, whole leg jerking with it, and everytime she checks her watch she feels her heart creep a little further up into her throat.

If she’s being honest, she thought about canceling her labs. No, doc, all good, doc, don’t need to know, doc. And then a friend pointed out, frustratingly, that avoidance is only going to make it worse. Right, so, right, so right, so, here she is. And here’s the nurse opening the door and right, calling her name, and it’s a man nurse, male nurse, though she’s pretty sure she’s not being PC by making that specification in her mind because really, twenty-first century, and really, anyone can be a nurse. But not anyone, right? Lots of schooling, right? Right. She realizes a bit too late that she hadn’t responded to the nurse calling her name, jerking up out of her chair and trying for a smile that she thinks probably looks more like constipation. And that’s just great because now man nurse, sorry, just nurse, probably thinks she’s constipated and she’d rather not have the, actually, very handsome, just nurse, thinking that on top of whatever she’s got going on that necessitates lab work she also can’t take a shit. Right.

“We’re going to be in this room right here.” Handsome just nurse has a nice voice too, deep but kind, and a strong jawline, and a patchy beard but she likes that it’s patchy, and he’s tan and he’s got one of those big watches that tells you how hard your heart was beating on your run and he probably runs in the afternoon after clocking out of the needle-in-arms gig and that’s probably why he’s so tan, probably has a golden retriever who runs with him too, because he looks like a golden retriever guy, dark flop of wavy hair and that smile and oh, oh, he just asked her a question and now she’s supposed to answer it.

“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” He smiles, nods, being nice, at least, about her whole scared prey animal situation. She presses her palm down hard on her knee to keep it from bouncing any more.

“It says on this order that these labs need to be taken fasted. Can you confirm to me that you haven’t had anything to eat or drink besides water in the last twelve hours?” Oh yes, yep, she can confirm that for you, Marcus, his name is Marcus, says so on his little lanyard badge. Thanks for the easy one, Marcus, pitch right down the middle, Marcus, with your nice smile and your clipboard and your, well, needles and tubes. But before he can get started with his, well, needles and tubes, she makes a strangled, sort of despondent sound because in situations like these, she comes with a warning label.

“I should let you know I have, um, bad veins? Honestly, you can just start with my hands, I don’t mind it. And also, I’m a fainter, yeah, so, it happens every time, just so you know.” And usually, usually, her spiel is given very little notice, mmmokay, hon. Sure, they’ll lay her back, how merciful, so she doesn’t crack her skull open on the way out of conscious orbit. That’s about it, though. But this time, she thinks, might just be different.

“Okay, thank you for giving me the heads up. If you’re sure you’re alright with starting with the hands then it’s fine by me to get it done that way.” So, so fine, Marcus, and maybe, just maybe, she thinks she might not pass out this time. He sets the exam table at a reclined angle and she wills her rigid spine to settle against it, trying to find the balance between breathing so deeply she starts to get light headed, and not breathing at all. In case you were wondering, yes, she is on medication for anxiety, it just doesn’t seem to presently be working.

“Just gonna feel around a bit here for a good one.” She only feels a little insane for the kick and clench in her heart when he takes her one hand in both of his, because he’s just palpating the back of her hand to find, as he said, a good one. Yes, the word for it is palpating, and there is certainly nothing romantic nor, hello, sexual about anything that’s called palpating. But, hey, taking wins where she can get them, and even through the latex gloves, his hands are warm and big and very know what they’re doing about the whole thing. And she’s no expert, obviously, but he’s got a very nice, very visible vein in his forearm, and she bets phlebotomists love him, bets that when he gets blood drawn, he’s in and out no problem, bets that even she could draw blood from him. Nope, nothing sexual about that, nothing weird about that, right? Right. Nothing sexual either, when he ties off the tight band around her arm and she watches his one bicep flex a little with the effort.

“I can count you down, or you can look away and I’ll just get it done, whichever you prefer.”

“Uh, no preference, I’ll just look away and you can do whatever you want to me.” Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. She realizes exactly what she just said a bit too late, him, Marcus, nice nurse Marcus, letting out a laugh that fizzles out into a cough. Great, now she’s made her fucking phlebotomist uncomfortable, possibly one of the last people you want to make uncomfortable. But if that, whatever that was, lingers, he doesn’t show it, already swiping an antiseptic wipe over the back of her hand and pulling his little cart of tubes closer to himself. And she knows this part, she’s good at this part, letting her eyes sweep up and to the right, because he’s on her left, and willing whatever vein he decided is a good one to stay a good one. Little pinch, little prayer, she lets out a held breath when he says a quiet alright and keeps the needle exactly where it is. Hallelujah.

“This might take a little longer, just because we’re drawing from your hand.”

“I’ll bleed as fast as I can then.” At the very least, he laughs, even though she wishes she had kept that one to herself.

“Do you live around here?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Sorry, I’m trying to distract you.”

“Didn’t they teach you how to do that in like, phlebotomy school?” She still has her eyes turned up and away, only a little wince when he switches out one tube for another. He hums at her question.

“Not really, I could ask you about the weather, is that better?”

“It’s cloudy. Not much of a conversation starter.”

“Well, why don’t you ask me something, since you’re such an expert on starting conversations.”

“Do you have a golden retriever?”

“What?”

“Sorry, you just, you look like the kind of guy who’d have a golden retriever.” Another tube clicks into place, but she’s not paying any attention to that now.

“Uh, no, no golden retriever. I do however have a very old, very deaf pit mix named Lucille.” Goddamnit, somehow that’s hotter than the golden retriever.

“Great name.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. She came with it when I adopted her.” God. Fucking. Damn it. What next, is he a volunteer firefighter on the weekends?

“Alright, that’s the last one.”

“Wait, really?” She chances a skittish glance but, sure enough, the needle is out.

“Yep, just let me get a band-aid for you and you’re all set.” Is he? Is she? Really? Going to make it out of here with no blackout? She considers, very briefly, as Marcus is smoothing a band-aid over the back of her hand, whether it’s possible to put a phlebotomist on retainer.

“If you want to sit for a minute and make sure you’re feeling alright before getting up that’s totally fine. I can also get you water or juice if you’re getting lightheaded.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine actually. Which, hey, thanks for not making me faint and stuff– that’s a first for me in a very long–” Oh, oh, stops herself mid-compliment because oh, oh, maybe stood up too fast, because the room is going a little dark, a little sideways, cold prickle and nauseous and–

“Easy, easy, I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” His voice is a little fuzzy around the edges. To be honest, he’s a little fuzzy around the edges, though she knows right away what happened. No, not her first rodeo, like she blinked and then came to in a strange sprawl on the end of the exam table. Marcus presents a dixie cup to her, holds it right in her line of sight because clearly, she’s still a little slumped, still a little vacant, and a little warm, actually, which is new, and a little pleasant, and, oh, it’s because his arm is curled around her shoulders, firm palm held there to help her sit up. Oh. He smells like clorox and something woodsy, and it shouldn’t, but it kind of works.

“You feeling okay?”

“Mmmhmm.” She’s afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she doesn’t keep her lips pressed in a thin line, mmhmms again when he asks if she can sit up on her own, only a little despondent when he takes his arm away.

“So, you really weren’t kidding about that happening every time, huh?”

“Nope, wish I was. It’s– I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“That you had to deal with that.”

“You don’t have to be sorry about that, it’s part of the job. And actually, you fainted about as perfectly as I could’ve asked you to.”

“I didn’t know you could faint like, well.”

“Right before you went down you said I’m gonna faint. That’s a lot better than getting no heads up and turning around to find my patient unresponsive on the ground.”

“Oh gee, I bet you say that to all your patients.” Lord, if there was ever a time to put her out of her misery it’d be now. She probably still looks green from her little trip to outer space but sure, flirt with Marcus, handsome nurse Marcus who just watched you absolutely eat it. Kick your feet and bat your eyelashes while you’re at it.

“I take it you’re feeling better then? Are you okay to walk out to the front desk?” And the rest is, mercifully, easy. He walks her to the front desk, squeezes her shoulder and gives her a good job today that she likes a little too much. She makes a mental note to herself to never come back to this clinic for any future bloodwork, lest she make a fool of herself all over again in front of a man who, with any luck, she will never see again.

…

“Yes, this is she speaking.” This is she speaking in the middle of the cereal aisle with a half-filled grocery basket at her feet. She sets her gaze on a hyper-realized image of a granola cluster (now with real strawberries!) while the woman on the other end of the phone tells her that her lab results came in and were sent over to her doctor.

“Oh, great, thank you for letting me know. Do you know– did things look okay?”

“We don’t interpret the results, ma’am. Your doctor will go over that with you.” She doesn’t quite catch that, doesn’t catch the woman’s ma’am? either, a little preoccupied with staring down the aisle, because is that? Is he? He looks good out of the scrubs.

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry, no, um, of course. Thanks again.” If the woman had anything else to tell her, it’s a little too late for it, already hung up, and she’s trying to decide if she wants him to see her, or if fleeing immediately is the best course of action. He probably wouldn’t even recognize her, she thinks. It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole ordeal. And actually, she’d prefer if he didn’t recognize her. Oh yeah, the one who, well, ate it. But it seems the choice has already been made for her, because he saw her, walking down the aisle toward her, with his chin tilted down and part of a smile like he isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure. He says her name like a question. Guilty as charged.

“Marcus, right?” Like she forgot his name, ha. His smile stretches, a little brighter, palm to the nape of his neck, and while she got the golden retriever part wrong, she totally clocked the rest, watch on his wrist and nice-looking athletic shorts and just-right-tight t-shirt with the little swoosh on the chest. She thinks his hair might even be a little sweat-damp, curled ends nearly getting in his eyes. In other words, she’s a goner.

“How have you been since we– you, well–”

“Since I passed out on you?” Yeah, that, he laughs out and yeah, she likes him, sue her.

“Just for the record, I believe it was you who said I passed out perfectly, so.” Shrug, so, he takes a step closer, leans in a little like he’s going to tell her a secret. In the cereal aisle, of all places.

“Just for the record, I really don’t say that to all my patients.”

“No?”

“Nope, just the nervous, pretty ones.”

“I was not nervous.”

“You weren’t?”

“Nope.”

“Are you just gonna blow past the other thing?”

“What thing?”

“The pretty thing.”

“Yep.” Something a little giddy, like being back in high school, shared, shit-eating and smug grins. He shakes his head and she rolls her lips back in her mouth to stop her smile from getting any cheesier.

“So, you do live around here then?”

“Mm, yeah, I do. And so do you?”

“I do.”

“Nice, nice.”

“Lovely weather we’re having.”

“Wow.”

“What? I’m making conversation.”

“You’re still not very good at it.”

“I’ll keep working on it for you.”

“Sure, okay. What kind of cereal do you get?”

“What kind do you think I get?”

“You look like a Kashi guy, if I’m honest.”

“Somehow I feel insulted.”

“Well.”

“You’re not even right either.”

“No? What do you get then?” He just smiles, steps away and reaches up to the top of the shelf and she is very grateful to General Mills for being located on the top shelf because his shirt rides up just enough to see a bare hip. In cheerios we trust.

“Apple cinnamon, seriously?”

“What? It’s a classic.”

“Actually, you know what, that tracks.”

“What do you get?” She waggles her basket in front of him in response, goods already procured.

“Peanut butter chex, respectable choice.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

“You know, I’d say we’re pretty good at this conversation thing.”

“Yeah, we’re not bad.”

“Do you want to do this again sometime? Not in the cereal aisle?”

“What, you mean like in the produce section?” He smiles at that, rolls his eyes, his basket lightly bonking against hers.

“I was thinking more like dinner, or drinks if that’s your thing?”

“I might be free on Saturday.”

“I might also be free on Saturday.”

“Well, sounds like we’re both free on Saturday.”

“Can I get your number?” His lockscreen is a picture of a dog. Lucille, he tells her, before she was very old and very deaf. She can’t help how big her smile gets at that.

“Text me, and we’ll do this whole conversation thing again.” I will, he says, phone tucked back into his pocket, though he seems to think twice before asking her can I see something really quick. Not entirely sure what he means when she nods, but then his hand sort of hovers over her forearm, may I? He really does have nice hands, she doesn’t think twice about nodding again.

“Oh yeah, we didn’t have to use your hand. I could have totally gotten it from here.” His hand curled around her elbow and his thumb lightly pressing into what she can only assume is a vein, and he says it so earnestly that she can’t help the incredulous laugh that rises up in her chest.

“Really? You’re still stuck on that, huh?” He smiles something sheepish, pad of his thumb rubbing an apology into her skin before pulling away. She didn’t really want him to pull away.

“Sorry, occupational hazard, I guess.”

“Kinda weird, you know.”

“Did I just ruin this whole thing?”

“Mmm, no, I kinda like it.”

“So, Saturday?”

“Looking forward to it, Marcus.”

#marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike fic #marcus pike au #marcus pike angst #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you

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sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 2 months

Note

I thought something about Marcus Acacius. He throws a party as a king where he calls some servants from the palace to dance for him, 4 girls, one of whom is the lucky one. The girl drives Marcus crazy with her movements and her gaze. And at the end of the dance when she collapses at his feet he gives her a handkerchief meaning she is called to have fun together in the bedroom. Before all that, for context, said servant is seen by Marcus in his room cleaning it, she being very shy and fragile in front of him. Since then, there has been an attraction between the two. pleaseeeeee😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

𝓟𝓞𝓦𝓔𝓡

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Summary: The moment Marcus saw you, he knew you had to be his.

Warnings: DUB-CON/NON-CON (Exploitation) SMUT, unprotected pinv (wrap it before you tap it), Implied age gap, Slight Voyeurism, Spitting, misogyny, cream pie, Oral

A/n: Okay, so I might make this a series. You'll see why ;)

The grand chamber of Marcus’s quarters stood in hushed elegance, the soft rustle of fabric and faint sounds of cleaning the only disturbances. You worked alongside Zera, the other maid, the sunlight filtering through ornate windows casting intricate patterns on the polished wooden floor. The scent of fresh linens mingled with the lingering hint of Marcus’s cologne, an omnipresent reminder of the man you served.

As you meticulously dusted the shelves, each deliberate movement betraying your nerves, you couldn't shake the unease. This was your first time in Marcus’s private quarters, and the stories you had heard about him made your hands tremble ever so slightly. Zera noticed your apprehension and gave you a reassuring smile, her experienced hands moving deftly over the surfaces, silently guiding you through the task.

Just as you smoothed the last crease on the bedspread, a sound behind you made your heart skip a beat—a throat clearing. You froze, breath caught in your throat. Slowly, you turned to face the source.

Marcus stood in the doorway, his presence commanding and intimidating. Tall, with a chiseled jawline and piercing eyes that seemed to see right through you, his dark hair impeccably styled, he exuded an air of authority that made your pulse quicken.

"Good afternoon, ladies," he said, his voice smooth and authoritative. Zera immediately curtsied, and you followed suit, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "Good afternoon, sir," you both murmured in unison.

He stepped further into the room, his gaze sweeping over the immaculate space. "I see you've been thorough," he remarked, a hint of approval in his tone. You dared a glance up and saw him looking directly at you. "What's your name?" he asked, his eyes holding yours captive.

"I-I'm..." you stammered, feeling incredibly small under his intense scrutiny. You gave him your name.

He repeated it, as if savoring the sound. "And what do you do here?"

"I'm a maid, sir," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I help with cleaning and maintaining the household."

He nodded, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Good," he said. "I appreciate diligence and dedication. Keep up the good work."

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment as he turned his attention to Zera, giving her a few more instructions. But then, unexpectedly, his gaze returned to you. "I have a feeling I'll be seeing more of you," he said, his voice low and enigmatic.

Marcus then looked back to Zera. "Zera, how long has she been with us?" he asked, nodding in your direction.

Zera straightened up, her expression respectful but relaxed. "She's been with us for a few months now, sir. She's a quick learner and very diligent."

"I see," Marcus replied, his eyes flicking back to you. There was something in his gaze that made your pulse quicken—a mixture of curiosity and something more that you couldn't quite place.

He turned his full attention to you again. "There’s a gathering this evening," he said. "A small party. I hope to see you there."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Me, sir?" you asked, hardly believing what you had just heard.

"Yes, you," he confirmed, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I'd like to get to know all the members of my household better."

Before you could muster a response, Marcus nodded once more, then turned and left the room, the door closing softly behind him. You stood there, still processing the encounter, the electricity of his presence lingering in the air. Zera nudged you gently, a knowing smile on her face. "Looks like you've made an impression," she said softly.

Zera led you out into the corridor where two other maids, Lara and Anya, were waiting. They exchanged curious glances, having overheard part of the conversation.

"Did he just invite you to the party tonight?" Lara asked, eyes wide with excitement.

You nodded, still in a daze. "Yes, he did."

Anya clapped her hands together. "That's wonderful! You should feel honored. These parties are very exclusive."

You looked at them, puzzled. "What exactly happens at these parties?"

Zera smiled warmly. "It's a small, private gathering. Usually, it's just Marcus and a few close friends. Only four maids are selected to attend, and it's considered a great honor."

Lara added, "You'll be there to serve, but also to... entertain. It's a chance to be close to him, to get special attention."

Lara chuckled softly. "Remember the time he invited me to one of these parties? I was so nervous, but he was incredibly kind and made sure I was comfortable. He even gifted me a beautiful necklace afterward."

Anya nodded, her eyes dreamy. "I've attended twice. The first time, I was too shy to speak much, but the second time, I felt more at ease. Marcus has a way of making you feel like you're the only one in the room. He listens, really listens, and his attention is... intoxicating."

Zera's smile widened as she added her own experience. "When I was chosen, I was scared out of my wits. But Marcus was patient, always checking if I was okay. He even taught me how to dance that night. It felt like a fairy tale. And the privileges afterward were amazing—new clothes, better quarters, and a sense of being valued."

You listened, a mix of nerves and anticipation swirling within you. The way they spoke of Marcus, with such admiration and fondness, made your heart beat faster. The night ahead seemed both daunting and exciting.

Anya squeezed your hand gently. "You'll do great. Just remember, it's not just about serving him—it's about being present, enjoying the moment, and letting him see who you are."

Lara's eyes twinkled with excitement. "And who knows? Maybe you'll receive a beautiful gift too. He has a knack for choosing the perfect ones."

Zera's expression softened. "Just be yourself, and remember, we're here for you. If you ever feel overwhelmed, you can always come to us."

The anticipation hung thick in the air as the evening settled over Marcus’s grand estate. You joined the other four maids in the lavish hall, your nerves simmering beneath a façade of calm. Each of them was strikingly beautiful, their confidence making your insecurities rise. You felt like a shadow amidst their brilliance, the thought of standing among them in Marcus’s eyes filling you with a sense of inadequacy.

But Zera’s words echoed in your mind—just be yourself. With a deep breath, you resolved to do just that, hoping it would be enough.

The party began, an intimate gathering with Marcus at the center, surrounded by a few of his close friends. The maids, including you, served drinks and delicacies, moving gracefully around the room. You kept to the side for most of the night, watching the lively conversation and laughter. Marcus’s presence was magnetic, drawing everyone in, his every word and gesture commanding attention.

You were busy refilling a guest's glass when Marcus’s gaze landed on you. Your heart skipped a beat as he smiled, a slow, deliberate smile that sent a thrill down your spine. He beckoned you over with a casual wave of his hand.

You approached him, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "Yes, sir?" you asked, your voice steady despite your racing pulse.

"Enjoying the evening?" he inquired, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel as if the world had narrowed to just the two of you.

"It's... lovely, sir," you replied, struggling to maintain your composure under his piercing gaze.

"Good," he said, his tone teasing. "I noticed you've been hiding in the shadows. Afraid to join the festivities?"

A smile tugged at your lips. "I didn't want to intrude, sir."

"Nonsense," he murmured, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "A beauty like you should never be in the background."

Your breath hitched at his words, the compliment washing over you like a warm wave. "Thank you, sir."

Marcus's gaze held yours, his eyes darkening with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher. "Tell me," he continued, leaning in closer, "do you enjoy dancing?"

Your heart pounded in your chest. "Yes, sir."

A wicked smile curved his lips. "Good. I think it's time for some entertainment."

He turned to the room, his voice commanding as he addressed the guests. "Ladies and gentlemen, I believe it's time for a dance."

The other maids gathered, their faces lighting up with excitement. Marcus's eyes flicked back to you, a challenge in his gaze. "Join us, won’t you?" he asked, though it was more of a command than a question.

You stepped forward, joining the other maids. The music began, a sultry melody filling the air. You moved in sync with the others, your body swaying to the rhythm, feeling Marcus's eyes on you the entire time.

As you danced, you felt a heady mix of nerves and exhilaration. The other maids were graceful, their movements confident and fluid. But you, despite your initial hesitance, found yourself lost in the music, your body moving instinctively, your eyes occasionally meeting Marcus's intense gaze.

The dance ended with a flourish, and the room erupted in applause. You stood there, breathless, your heart racing. Marcus's eyes never left you, a slow smile spreading across his face as he approached.

"Well done," he said, his voice low and smooth. "You have a natural grace."

"Thank you, sir," you replied, feeling a blush creep up your neck.

Marcus's smile deepened, his eyes never leaving yours. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, an intricate design of fine fabric. With a slow, deliberate movement, he offered it to you.

"For you," he said, his voice a mix of command and tenderness. "A small token of my appreciation."

You took the handkerchief, your fingers brushing against his as you did. The touch sent a jolt through you, and you could feel the eyes of the other guests on you, but all you could focus on was Marcus. "Thank you, sir," you said again, your voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Keep it close. Tonight, after the guests have left, you will be summoned to my quarters. There are things we need to discuss."

Your heart raced at his words, the implication sending a thrill through you. "Yes, sir," you replied, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions inside you.

He straightened, his eyes still holding yours for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the party. "Enjoy the rest of the evening," he said, his tone returning to its earlier casualness.

You nodded, clutching the handkerchief tightly in your hand, the delicate fabric a reminder of what was to come. The rest of the evening passed in a blur, your thoughts consumed by the anticipation of your impending meeting with Marcus. The other maids occasionally glanced your way, their expressions a mix of curiosity and envy.

Later, in the dim light of the maids’ quarters, you sat with your heart pounding, the evening’s events replaying in your mind. Zera and the others had already retired for the night, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the occasional creak of the old building settling. Just as you began to wonder if you had misunderstood Marcus’s invitation, there was a knock on the door. You jumped, your heart leaping into your throat. You opened the door to find one of Marcus’s guards standing there, his expression unreadable.

"Marcus has requested your presence," he said simply.

You nodded, swallowing hard. "Thank you," you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly.

The guard led you through the winding corridors of the grand estate, the flickering torchlight casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. Your mind raced with possibilities, a mixture of excitement and nervousness swirling within you.

When you reached Marcus’s quarters, the guard stepped aside, allowing you to knock softly on the door.

"Enter," came Marcus's voice from within, smooth and commanding.

You pushed the door open and stepped inside. The warmth of the room and the familiar scent of Marcus’s cologne enveloped you. He stood by a table, a decanter and two glasses set upon it. His silhouette was framed by the moonlight streaming through the window, casting an ethereal glow around him.

"Close the door behind you," he instructed, his voice low and inviting.

You did as he asked, the soft click of the door closing sounding like a prelude to something monumental. Your heart raced as you stood there, feeling both vulnerable and empowered under his intense gaze.

"Come, sit," Marcus said, gesturing to a chair near the table.

You walked over, your steps measured and deliberate, and sat down. Marcus poured a rich, amber liquid into one of the glasses, then handed it to you.

"Drink," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You took the glass, the coolness of the glass contrasting with the warmth of your fingers. You brought it to your lips, the liquid smooth and heady as it slid down your throat. The warmth spread through you, calming your nerves.

Marcus poured himself a glass and took a sip, his eyes still locked on you. "I’ve noticed you," he said, his voice a low, seductive murmur. "You have a quiet grace about you, a determination."

"Thank you, sir," you replied, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks under his scrutiny.

"Tell me about yourself," he continued, leaning back in his chair, his posture relaxed but his gaze intense. "How did you come to work here?"

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "I came from a small village," you began, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. "I wanted to find a better life, to serve in a household like yours."

Marcus nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly as he listened. "And what have you found here?"

"Opportunity," you replied honestly. "A chance to learn, to grow. The work is hard, but it’s rewarding."

He smiled, a slow, almost predatory smile that sent a shiver down your spine. "I admire your honesty," he said. "And your dedication."

He reached out, his fingers brushing against the back of your hand, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "You’ve done well tonight," he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "And I’d like to reward you."

Your breath hitched at his words, the promise in his tone making your heart race. "Thank you, sir," you managed to say, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Marcus's hand lingered on yours, his touch gentle yet commanding. "Do you enjoy serving me?" he asked, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel exposed.

"Yes, sir," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I do."

He smiled, a slow, seductive smile that made your pulse quicken. "Good," he murmured. "Because I enjoy having you here."

He stood, his hand slipping from yours as he moved to stand behind you. You felt his presence, the heat of his body, the intoxicating scent of his cologne. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I want to see more of you, to know you better."

Your heart raced, a mixture of excitement and nerves swirling within you. The reality of the situation settled in—you were not just any maid; you were standing before Marcus, your employer, a man whose power and authority were absolute. The need to impress him, to prove your worth, weighed heavily on you.

Marcus's hands rested lightly on your shoulders, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He slowly slid your tunic down, exposing your shoulders to the cool night air. His fingers brushed against your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"You are beautiful," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "And so very intriguing."

You shivered at his words, your nerves mingling with a growing desire. "Thank you, sir," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned you to face him, his eyes dark and intense as they roamed over you. "You seem nervous," he observed, his voice soft but commanding.

"I... I want to please you, sir," you admitted, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and honesty.

Marcus's smile was slow and predatory, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. "And you will," he said, his voice a low, seductive murmur. "But there's no need to be nervous. I already see something special in you."

He moved closer, his hands trailing down your arms, sending a shiver through you. "Relax," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "Tonight is about discovery."

You nodded, trying to steady your racing heart. His touch was both comforting and electrifying, his presence overwhelming yet thrilling. You felt his hands slide down your back, pulling you closer to him. The proximity made you acutely aware of every breath, every heartbeat.

Marcus's lips traced the curve of your neck, his touch gentle yet possessive. "Tell me," he murmured, his voice a tantalizing whisper, "what do you desire?"

The question caught you off guard, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts. "I... I want to be valued, sir," you confessed, your voice trembling with vulnerability. "I want to be seen."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "You are valued," he said, his voice firm but tender. "And you are seen."

He leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both gentle and demanding. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a whirlwind of desire and emotion. His kiss deepened, his hands roaming over your body, exploring, claiming.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with desire. "You have a fire within you," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "A fire I intend to stoke."

His words sent a thrill through you, a promise of what was to come. You felt his hands slide to the hem of your tunic, lifting it slowly, his touch deliberate and tantalizing. The fabric slipped over your head, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his eyes roaming over you with a mix of admiration and desire. He stepped back, his own tunic falling to the floor, revealing the chiseled lines of his body. His gaze remained locked on you, filled with a raw, almost primal intensity that made your pulse quicken.

As he moved closer, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, the magnetism that drew you in. He reached out, his fingers trailing down your arm, leaving a path of fire in their wake. "Tell me," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper, "are you experienced?"

The question hung in the air, laden with implications. Your heart raced as you met his gaze, the vulnerability in your answer making you feel exposed. "Yes, sir," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.

A flicker of something dark and possessive flashed in his eyes. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Who was he?"

The question, more of a demand, sent a shiver through you. You hesitated, the memory of your past lover surfacing. "A man from my village," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "But he means nothing to me now."

Marcus's grip on your arm tightened slightly, his possessiveness palpable. "Good," he growled softly, his breath hot against your skin. "Because from now on, you belong to me."

The intensity of his words sent a thrill through you, a mixture of fear and exhilaration. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "I want to see you touch yourself," he commanded, his voice low and commanding.

Your breath caught in your throat, the request both shocking and tantalizing. You hesitated, your eyes searching his for reassurance. His expression softened slightly, a hint of encouragement in his gaze. "Show me," he urged, his voice a seductive murmur. "I want to see how you pleasure yourself."

With trembling hands, you reached down, your fingers skimming over your own skin. Marcus stopped you mid-motion, pushing you onto a plush couch in the room. He loomed over you, an imposing force, as you began to trace delicate lines across your chest, down to your stomach, and even lower. You delicately traced the lips of your pussy, collecting the small amount of wetness beginning to grow. It wasn’t enough friction, so you brought your hand to your mouth and sucked on two fingers softly before bringing them down to circle your clit in sweet and deliberate circles.

Your mouth formed a soft "O" at the feeling, as your movements brought a soft look and feel of pleasure to your body.

“Have you ever been tasted?” The question caught you off guard, and your hand stopped.

“Tasted?” you echoed.

He chuckled. “Yes, tasted.”

He got onto his knees. “What’s that?” you questioned.

He smirked and spread your legs. “Allow me to show you.”

He peppered soft kisses on your thighs before spitting on your clit, making you moan. But even the moan was cut off as his warm mouth began attacking your body. You felt his tongue flick and suck everything he could. You’d never moaned so loudly in your life. He was devouring your pussy, kissing and biting it with an intensity that made you writhe.

You couldn’t sit still. You covered your mouth and whimpered. “Already this wet for me, huh?” he whispered, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. “Spread yourself for me, baby.”

Your chest was heaving as you moved your trembling hands to comply. You spread yourself open, the vulnerability making the moment even more intense. Marcus’s eyes darkened with desire as he watched you.

“Good girl,” he murmured, before diving back in. His tongue was relentless, swirling around your clit, teasing and torturing you with expert precision. You could feel every flick, every stroke, as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, your hips bucking against his mouth. The pleasure was overwhelming, building with a ferocity that left you gasping. You could feel yourself teetering on the brink, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

Marcus pulled back just enough to speak, his voice a low, seductive growl. “I want you to come for me, baby. Let me hear you.”

His words were your undoing. With a cry, you shattered, the orgasm crashing over you in waves. Your body trembled, your muscles contracting as the pleasure washed over you. Marcus continued to lap at you, drawing out every last bit of your climax until you were spent, lying limp and boneless on the couch.

He moved up your body, his lips finding yours in a deep, possessive kiss. You could taste yourself on him, the intimacy of the moment making your head spin. “You taste incredible,” he murmured against your lips. “I could do that all night.”

You shivered at his words, the promise of more to come making your pulse quicken. “Thank you, sir,” you managed to whisper, your voice shaky with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

He smiled, a slow, predatory smile that sent a thrill through you. “You’re welcome, my sweet. But we’re not done yet. I want to see everything you have to offer.”

He pulled your legs to be flush against his thighs, his strength and control undeniable. You finally dared to look at him in all his glory, and the sight took your breath away. His dick was huge and intimidating, with a slight tilt to the left. The mere sight of it made your heart race, a mix of fear and anticipation swirling within you.

With a deliberate slowness, he rubbed his dick up and down your slick entrance, coating it in your orgasm. The sensation was almost too much, making you gasp and writhe beneath him.

Then, he began to press into you, the thick head of his cock stretching you in a way that made your eyes roll to the back of your head. The pressure, the fullness, it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

“OH FUCK, MARCUS,” you cried out, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them.

He chuckled at your sudden drop in formalities, his amusement mingling with the raw desire in his eyes. “That’s it, baby. Let it all out. No need for titles here.”

The stretch was deliciously painful, a burning sensation that morphed into pleasure as he filled you completely. He paused, allowing you to adjust to his size, his eyes never leaving your face. The intensity of his gaze made you feel exposed, vulnerable, and yet incredibly aroused.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. “So tight, so perfect.”

You whimpered in response, your body trembling as you struggled to accommodate him. He began to move, slow at first, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure through you. The friction, the heat, it was overwhelming. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to ground yourself.

“Faster, please,” you begged, your voice breathless.

Marcus obliged, his pace quickening, his thrusts becoming harder and deeper. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure. Each stroke pushed you closer to the edge, the coil of pleasure tightening in your belly.

“You like that?” he growled, his breath hot against your ear. “You like being fucked by me?”

“Yes, oh god, yes,” you cried out, your body arching beneath him.

He drove into you with a relentless rhythm, his hand finding your clit and rubbing it in circles that matched his thrusts. The dual sensations were too much, pushing you over the edge into a mind-shattering orgasm. You screamed his name, your body convulsing around him, your vision going white with the intensity of your release.

Marcus didn’t stop. He continued to pound into you, chasing his own release, his hand still working your sensitive clit. The overstimulation was almost painful, but you relished it, craving more of the pleasure-pain.

“Fuck, you’re incredible,” he groaned, his movements becoming erratic. “I’m going to come.”

You tightened around him, wanting to push him over the edge, wanting to feel him lose control. “Come for me, Marcus,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Fill me up.”

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he spilled his seed. His groan of release was primal, his body shuddering against yours. You felt the warmth of his cum filling you, the sensation pushing you into another smaller orgasm.

He stayed inside you for a moment, both of you catching your breath, the room filled with the scent of sex and sweat. Finally, he pulled out, his cum dripping from your swollen pussy. He looked at you, his eyes dark with satisfaction and something more—something possessive.

“You’re mine now,” he said, his voice a low growl. “No one else gets to touch you like this.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and you felt a mix of exhilaration and apprehension. You had never been claimed so fiercely, never felt so desired. But a question lingered in the back of your mind, one you couldn’t ignore.

“Will you be seeing any other maids?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The thought of him with someone else, touching them the way he touched you, sent a pang of jealousy through you.

Marcus’s expression softened slightly, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “No,” he said, his voice firm. “I don’t taste the others. I’ve seen you around, watching you, waiting for this moment.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he continued, “I’ve been planning this, waiting for the right time. You’re different, special. I want you to be my mistress.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. The idea of being his mistress, of belonging to him in such an intimate way, was intoxicating. You looked up at him, your eyes wide with wonder. “You’ve been waiting for me?”

“Yes,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck. “From the moment I first saw you, I knew I had to have you. No one else compares to you.”

His hands roamed over your body, caressing your skin with a possessive tenderness that made you tremble. He pulled you closer, his mouth capturing yours in a searing kiss. You melted into him, your body responding to his touch, craving more.

He broke the kiss, his eyes burning with desire. “I want you to understand something,” he said, his voice low and intense. “Being my mistress means you belong to me. Your body, your pleasure, it’s all mine.”

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions inside you. He smiled, a slow, predatory smile that made your pulse quicken.

“Good,” he said, his hands sliding down your body. “Now, show me how much you want to be mine.”

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zapreportsblog · 1 year

Note

The Volturi kings meeting reader who is a deep sea mermaid and is just amazed because she didn’t know there was more than just the dark ocean she lived in

❝curiosity killed the cat or mermaid in this case❞

✭ pairing : volturi kings x mermaid reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (y/n) is what’s known as a mermaid, an mythical creature that humans believed to be made up fairytale stories. Her clan always warned her to never wander to close to the oceans surface for bad things happen to mermaids who do, if only she had listened.

✭ authors note : I already pre wrote this story in my head from when I seen this request :) the first twilight masterlist got filled up so I made another

✭ twilight masterlist 2

(Y/N) was a mermaid unlike any other in her clan. While her fellow merfolk were content with their deep-sea existence, she had an insatiable curiosity about the world above the ocean's surface. The shimmering sunlight that filtered down from the top always fascinated her, casting dancing patterns of light in the depths where she lived.

However, (Y/N) had been warned time and time again by her clan about the dangers that lurked near the surface. They spoke of mysterious creatures that roamed the shallows, perilous storms that could send a mermaid spiraling into the abyss, and humans who were relentless in their pursuit of the underwater world.

Despite the warnings, her desire to explore the surface world only grew stronger with each passing day. She spent her free moments studying the patterns of light, listening to the songs of seagulls above, and dreaming of what lay beyond the boundary that separated her from the surface.

One fateful day, her curiosity became too powerful to resist. She decided to venture closer to the surface than she ever had before, her heart pounding with excitement and trepidation. She swam upwards, her tail gliding effortlessly through the water, until she found herself dangerously close to the surface.

As she breached the water's edge and her head broke through to the surface, (Y/N) marveled at the world above. The sensation of the sun warming her skin was unlike anything she had ever experienced. The world was different up here—vast, open, and filled with colors she had never seen in her underwater realm.

But her joy was short-lived. Just as she was about to dive back down to the safety of her underwater home, a sudden, painful tug on her tail sent shockwaves of fear through her. She struggled against an unseen force, but it was too late. (Y/N) had been captured in a fishing net.

Panicking, she thrashed and twisted in the net's grasp, but it held her firmly. Her heart pounded in her chest as she realized the gravity of her situation. She had ventured too close to the surface, and now she was at the mercy of whatever creature had ensnared her.

As the moon hung high in the night sky, casting an eerie glow over the Volturi's ancient castle, Ronaldo, the traveling Norman vampire, stood before the imposing gates, seeking an audience with the Volturi leaders. His request had been granted, and now he wheeled a large, water-filled tank into the dimly lit chamber where the Volturi convened.

The room was shrouded in shadows, and the Volturi leaders, Aro, Caius, and Marcus, sat upon their thrones, their crimson eyes piercing the darkness. (Y/N), curled up in the tank, shimmered like a moonlit pearl in the dim light, her beauty and strangeness taking the Volturi by surprise.

Aro, the most enigmatic of the three leaders, leaned forward, his eyes fixated on the captive mermaid. "What do we have here?" he inquired, his voice dripping with curiosity.

Ronaldo, ever the salesman, grinned and began to recount the legends of mermaids from human lore. He spoke of their captivating beauty, their ethereal songs that lured sailors to their doom, and the countless tales of their existence. His storytelling skills were as smooth as his negotiations, and he had the Volturi leaders captivated.

"What is it you desire in exchange for this extraordinary creature?" Aro asked, his gaze never leaving (Y/N).

Ronaldo's eyes gleamed with a mixture of desperation and cunning. "My freedom," he replied without hesitation. "I know you have been hunting me for my past transgressions against your kind. I will hand over the mermaid to you in exchange for my release."

Aro's fingers steepled in thought as he considered the offer. He was intrigued by the prospect of possessing such a rare and mystical creature, and Ronaldo's freedom seemed a small price to pay. "Very well," he agreed. "We have a deal."

Ronaldo breathed a sigh of relief, his gamble having paid off. He knew that his own fate had been hanging by a thread, and the mermaid had become his lifeline.

Once the transaction was completed, Ronaldo left the chamber, the tank left ominously behind him. Unbeknownst to him, Aro had no intention of letting him escape unscathed. The Volturi had their reputation to uphold, and no one defied them without consequences.

After Ronaldo had left the castle, Aro gave a sinister smile. He turned to his loyal guards, Demetri and Felix, and issued a chilling command. "Follow him. Ensure he doesn't make it far. Oh and make sure Ronaldo does not survive his very unfortunate…accident.”

With unwavering obedience, Demetri and Felix departed, their dark forms disappearing into the night as they set out to fulfill Aro's orders, leaving the fate of Ronaldo and the mermaid hanging in the balance.

As the realization dawned that (Y/N) was scared, Marcus, the most taciturn of the Volturi leaders, spoke up, his voice carrying a hint of empathy. "She's terrified," he observed, his eyes focused on the mermaid's curled-up form in the tank.

Aro, however, was not one to be deterred by fear. He was determined to have the mermaid as part of his collection, and her fear was an obstacle he intended to overcome. "Fear won't do," he declared, his voice commanding.

With a flick of his hand, he summoned some of the lowly guards that stood nearby. "Fix up the garden," Aro ordered them. "Prepare a suitable place for our new acquisition."

The guards hurriedly obeyed, scurrying to the Volturi's garden. There, they prepared a large, elegantly designed pond, its waters reflecting the pale moonlight. Once the garden was to Aro's satisfaction, they wheeled the tank containing (Y/N) to the pond's edge and carefully lowered it in.

As soon as the tank was submerged in the saltwater pond, (Y/N) sensed her opportunity for escape. She wasted no time and swiftly swam out of the tank, her lithe form disappearing into the depths of the pond. Her mermaid instincts guided her, and she found solace in the cool, familiar embrace of the saltwater.

Aro, not one to be outwitted, addressed (Y/N) directly, his thoughts projecting into her mind. "Dear mermaid, I mean you no harm. We merely seek your company and your unique presence." His words were accompanied by a sensation of reassurance and curiosity.

But (Y/N) was not easily swayed. Her instincts and her fear of the unknown prevailed. She refused to heed Aro's words, choosing to stay hidden at the pond's bottom, her tail camouflaged among the aquatic plants.

Aro's efforts to cloak her presence and win her trust proved fruitless, and he could only watch as the enigmatic mermaid remained hidden from sight, her secrets and her destiny her own to protect.

Days turned into weeks, and (Y/N) found herself settled in the Volturi's garden, beneath the moonlit sky, surrounded by the grandeur of the ancient castle. The kings of the Volturi had made it a habit to visit her, each with their own approach to her peculiar presence.

Aro, ever the strategist, was persistent in his attempts to communicate with her. He visited the pond regularly, his thoughts reaching out to her. "Dear mermaid," he would say, "I am genuinely curious about your kind. Do you have a name?"

However, (Y/N) remained steadfast in her silence. Her oceanic gaze remained fixed on the pond's depths, her secrets guarded by her enigmatic presence.

Caius, on the other hand, was a man of few words. He would visit the pond and simply stare at her for hours. His crimson eyes bore into her, and she could feel the weight of his scrutiny. There was an intensity about him that sent shivers down her spine, but he never spoke a word to her.

It was Marcus, the third and often overlooked leader of the Volturi, who approached (Y/N) in a different manner. He would sit quietly nearby, bringing books from his extensive library. He read out loud to her, his deep voice resonating through the garden.

The books he chose were tales of ancient love and legends of the sea, and he read them with a melancholic grace. He didn't ask questions or seek answers, but his presence was a soothing one. It was as if he understood the mermaid's need for companionship, even if it was only in the form of his voice.

As the nights passed, (Y/N) grew accustomed to the routine of her existence within the Volturi's garden. The vampire kings' visits were as mysterious as they were intriguing, and the ancient castle held more secrets than she could fathom. Yet, she remained a silent enigma, her presence a source of fascination and curiosity for the Volturi leaders.

A month had passed since (Y/N) had been captured by the Volturi, and her time in their garden had settled into a peculiar rhythm. She had grown accustomed to the vampire kings' visits, and although she remained mostly silent, their presence had become a strange sort of companionship.

On this particular evening, as Marcus sat beside the pond with a book in his hands, (Y/N) decided to break her silence. The book in question was an archaeology tome, filled with intricate details about ancient civilizations and their mysterious ruins.

Curiosity had finally gotten the best of her, and she swam up to the surface of the pond, her azure eyes fixed on Marcus. "What is that book about?" she asked, her voice a melodious echo.

Marcus turned to her, his eyes holding a hint of surprise. It was the first time she had spoken in his presence. "It's a book about archaeology," he replied in his deep, soothing voice. "It delves into the mysteries of ancient civilizations and their remarkable ruins."

Intrigued, (Y/N) pressed further. "Tell me more," she urged.

With a nod, Marcus closed the book and set it aside. "This book, in particular, discusses the Mayan ruins of the Holy Land. The Mayans were a fascinating civilization, known for their advanced knowledge of astronomy, mathematics, and intricate city planning."

As he spoke, (Y/N) listened with rapt attention, her curiosity piqued by the wealth of knowledge Marcus possessed. The world of the surface, so distant and unknown to her, seemed to hold countless wonders waiting to be explored, and the vampire's words painted vivid images in her mind.

For the first time since her capture, (Y/N) felt a spark of connection, not just to the vampire before her, but to the world above the surface, a world of ancient civilizations and untold stories waiting to be discovered.

The next day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Aro paid his customary visit to the garden. He approached the pond with his usual air of intrigue, expecting the same silent presence from the mermaid.

But as he drew near, (Y/N) surprised him by speaking. Her voice was soft and tinged with a hint of curiosity. "You are back," she said, her eyes fixed on him.

Aro, taken aback by her words, responded in kind, "And you are speaking."

They sat in a brief, somewhat awkward silence, both processing the unexpected turn of events. Aro's fascination with the mermaid had only grown since her arrival, and now her ability to communicate added another layer of intrigue.

After a moment, (Y/N) felt compelled to break the silence once more. She hesitated for a moment before finally revealing, "My name is (Y/N)."

Aro's crimson eyes studied her, a faint smile touching his lips as he absorbed this newfound information. "It is a pleasure to finally know your name, (Y/N)," he replied.

But before any further conversation could unfold, (Y/N) suddenly felt a wave of shyness wash over her. Without another word, she swung her tail and gracefully slipped beneath the surface of the pond, disappearing into the depths once more, leaving Aro alone by the water's edge, pondering the enigma that was the mermaid named (Y/N).

As the moonlight cast a silvery glow over the Volturi's garden, (Y/N) found herself seated on a large rock by the pond. Her mermaid tail glistened as she meticulously cleaned it, her slender fingers running through the scales with care.

Caius, drawn by his usual fascination with the mysterious mermaid, had come to watch her again. He approached her quietly, his crimson eyes fixed on her as he observed her delicate task. But this time, a pressing question weighed on his mind.

"How did you get captured by a coward like Ronaldo?" Caius asked, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity and disdain.

(Y/N) paused in her task, her gaze shifting to meet Caius's piercing stare. She took a deep breath before answering, "My clan has always warned us not to venture too close to the surface. But my curiosity got the best of me, and I swam higher than I should have. That's when Ronaldo captured me."

Caius listened intently to her explanation, his features impassive. He, too, had a sense of disdain for Ronaldo, but he was more interested in understanding (Y/N)'s perspective.

"Do you ever miss your clan?" he asked, the question surprisingly gentle.

(Y/N) nodded, her eyes momentarily clouded with sadness. "Every day," she admitted softly. "I miss the deep ocean and the songs of my kin."

Caius, for all his coldness, seemed to sense the depth of her longing. He didn't press further but simply nodded in understanding. With that, he turned and left the garden, leaving (Y/N) to her quiet contemplation by the pond, as the mysteries of her past and her future continued to intertwine with the enigmatic world of the Volturi.

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rustboxstarr · 1 year

Text

🏖Grown Ups🏖 part 1

Summary: You've been pulling away from Eddie recently its not until summer vacation that you finally find your way back to him.

Pairings: Dad!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!Mom!Reader

Warnings: Holy hell prepare yourself -> worrying about R potentially cheating, angst, talk of sex, slightly derogatory talk of sex, Gareth is a womanizer (Sorryyyyy needed someone to be!), alcohol consumption, thoughts of sex, thoughts tiddie fucking, kissing, Eddie being kinda desperate and horny for sex but trying to be respectful, nudity, R has tattoos, nipple and belly button piercing, body insecurity (Don’t worry Eddies just being a weirdo, she loves herself otherwise!), smoking, Steve being an insightful mama hen and apparently knows how women function (Steves a sweetheart, we want all men to be like Steve), light confrontation, looming anxiety, drunken accidental grinding, groping, R being to drunk to remember ALMOST having sex , threats of violence, tiddie sucking, hickeys, oral f receiving, fingering, squirting, interruptions, talk of oral m receiving, Smut P in V, no cut offs or dividers, sorry forgot to put them in. I tried to stay away Y/N I rly did but I think it slipped in once or twice (Sorry not sorry 😈)

Wordcount: Short and sweet only 22.2k........ (Yeah this fic quite literally ripped the idea in my head and sprinted away with it like it was wanted for murder (Get it? HAHAHAHA (Explaining my jokes, I love myself))

A/N: So I was watching Grown Ups (2010) the other day and thought it was so funny when all the guys talk about how little they have sex with their wives, but then it spiraled and got slightly angsty but personally I love this! Character list and ages under the cut :)

Love yas!

Part 2

Drawings I made for the fic for some visuals 😊

Grown Ups masterlist

Check out my other works!

Max (35), Lukas (35) - twins Eric (6) and Billy (6)

El (35), Mike (35) - no kids

Dustin (35), Suzie (35) - Willow (11 months)

Eddie (41), You (40) - Ophelia (10) and Roxette (7)

Gareth (37) - single, no kids

Luke -unnamed freak (39), Simone (38) - Tom (5) and Oliver (3) - not that it matters but Simone is african american so the kids are mixed incase it might be nice to visualise

Jeff (37), Tracy (45) - Ariana (16) (Tracy's daughter)

Will (35), Winter (33) - no kids

Steve (40), Nancy (39) - Mercy (11), Lousie (9), Rachel (7), Marcus(5), Bianca (3) and Dustin (2)

Jonathan (39), Charlotte (41) - Emma (6), Charlie (4) and Lilly (2)

Robin(39), Vickie(39) - no kids

Argyle (40), Eden (38) - no kids

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Summer 1998, the sun was shining bright against the pastel blues of the sky, temperatures rising all over the country, it was the best time of the year, 10 year old Ophelia and 7 year old Roxette were off school for the summer holidays, you had your 6 weeks off and Eddie took leave from work, cashing his holidays in broken up during the 9 weeks of summer to be with you and his kids. Mid june and the Munson family had gotten the chance to rest for the first 5 days before the roadtrip to Dustin’s late granny’s lakehouse in Muskegon, the five hour road trip delayed with multiple food stops, toilet breaks, a few car boot sales which signs had caught you eye, one mall trip to stave off Roxy’s crying when she realised she forgot to pack her bathing suit and a few leg stretchers to keep both the kids from going crazy in the backseat.

Ophelia had grown up to become a relatively quiet kid, calm, never too temperous and always content with following around with the grown ups plan, god knows how, neither you nor Eddie were ever people to be considered calm and peaceful. In your youth running around being chased by Hopper after breaking into abandoned places, caught drunk encouraging Eddie to piss on the large bronze statue situated in front of the mayor's office, shoplifting, vandalism, disturbing the peace, there had even been one time where Hopper had knocked on Wayne’s trailer door, two embarrassed soon to be adults stood behind him, wrapped up in blankets with not a single other article of clothing on for modesty after giving you both a ‘ride home’ as you liked to joke.

The straight defiance of US laws simmered down after Ophelia came along but partying, loud obnoxious jokes, crazy schemes and dramatic displays of affection were still something very normal for the two of you. Well normal up until the last six months or so where it had simmered down. The both of you were still cuddly and giggly and chummy with each other, but lately it seemed you both had drifted apart, admittedly you more than him.

Roxette however seemed to have taken to both of you, couldn't sit still, always loud, always on the move, yup she was the embodiment of both yours and Eddie’s personalities, the same reason as to why the five hour road trip pushed 9 hours. Roxy could barely handle the 20 minute drive to school…

Up at 8 am packing the kids into the car with plenty of books, comics, cd’s and toys you set out. Eddie at the wheel of your 95 Mitsubishi Mirage while you cozied under a blanket next to him, head lolling on your shoulders threatening to tip you over until you adjusted yourself to sit up against the window as you let that comforting dull, cloudy feeling overtake you and drift you off to sleep. In the back Roxette was fast asleep while Ophelia bobbed her head in tune to Tupak Shakur’s latest album R U Still Down? playing in the round silvery cd player Eddie kept in the glove compartment, staring out at the trees whizzing past the window.

The clock was nearing 5 pm when the car pulled off the bumpy road -with Eddie in the passenger seat- over the gravel parking lot to what Dustin had called The Henderson Castle. A quaint surprisingly large cabin in dark mahogany wood panelling, green chipping edging and beams matching the green steps to the bright blue double doors. Lake Michigan painted the horizon behind the garden, a small private beach next to a short dock attached to a boathouse and a sailboat tied to the wood panels, a rack of 5 canoes resting on the old water stained wood. Wooden beach chairs and plastic loungers framed in by the litter of trees and behind a picnic table and worn down monkey bars.

Eddie took to emptying the boot of duffle bags and food bags while you urged Ophi and Roxy out of the back. Cars of different prince rages surrounded them as things were retrieved out of the vehicle, “Well well well look who decided to show up!” Dusting grinned from the front door, carrying a little girl on his hip who tucked her head into his shoulder in shyness.

Matching grins were shone at the 35 year old as he descended the steps to greet you “What's up man!” Eddie patted him on the back in a one armed hug before he went around to give you a proper hug. “Hi! I’m Roxette” your daughter said excitedly, Dustin bent down to talk to her “I know, we've met before” his voice was sweet and mischievous as he stuck out his hand for Roxette to shake.

You were all hustled into the house where a large group of people were scattered around the kitchen, dining table to your left and living room to your right behind the kitchen, all hollering in delight as your family of four stepped over the threshold. Hugs were exchanged as well as ‘took you long enough’s and ‘did you learn to read the clock in your three years of senior year’s, soon enough a wide spread of food, carefully put out by Dustin's wife Suzie had been devoured and catch ups had been exchanged.

Dustin had taken the duty of showing everyone to their rooms, Jonathan’s three kids, Emma, Charlie and Lily, Luke’s Carl and Tom, Steve and Nancy's six nuggets Mercy, Lousie, Rachel, Marcus, Bianca and Dustin, Max and Lucas’s twin boys Eric and Billy, as well as Ophelia and Roxette were all given the privilege of sharing the well lit and cozy basement. 17 kids with the exception of Willow who had her own little bed with Dustin and Suzie and Ariana, Jeff’s 16 year old step daughter who got her own room, were all over the moon, excited about causing as much ruckus as they could. Parents and couples alike all directed upstairs to the second and third floor for their own bedrooms in the impressive lakehouse.

The time on Eddie’s watch showed 11:32 as he took it off and placed it on his temporary nightstand for the next week when you crawled under the patchwork cover and got yourself comfortable on your side. Teeth brushed, clothes changed, good nights said and bags unzipped it was time to turn in for the night. Something about being on the go for 8 and a half hours and then making conversation in a room full of 39 other people was extremely exhausting and it caught up to you as your head nestled into the plush worn cotton pillow.

You heard Eddie yawn loudly behind you as he no doubt flung his balled up fists out in the air, stretching like a cat by the side of the bed. He rustled behind you until you felt the cover lift and a warm body dip into the mattress, humming as he scooted over to wrap his arms around you and hold your back to his chest. You bathed in his embrace, happy and content cuddling up with your husband until, you felt him move again to press his hips against your. A soft grunt escaped your lips as Eddie pushed his hard on to nestle between your ass cheeks, on display from the back of your threadbare t-shirt riding up.

“Mm Eddie I’m really tired” you groaned quietly, nestling further into his arms wrapped around you. You heard him sigh and had your eyes been open you would have undoubtedly rolled them at his reaction “We’ve been on the go since 8 am, I’m really not in the mood” you further explained “I know baby” Eddies breathed slightly disappointed, in the back of his mind he had hoped that the change of scenery might get you exited, possibly put a stop to the dry spell you had seemed to be going through. “Lets just go to sleep yeah?” he whispered, fingers crossed that his disappointment and slight annoyance at his idea being wrong couldn't be detected in his voice. You hummed in agreement as Eddie slackened behind you and fell asleep.

The morning had been hectic, starting off already at 7 am when both girls rushed in to find their clothes, awakening you as they spoke loudly “Girls you know this” Eddie sighed as he tiredly sat up on his side of the bed, pulling his warm grasp away from you “Knock on the door, don't just barge in” he was slightly exasperated as he told them off “But were on vacation!” Roxette whined as she paused in rifling through one of the bags “Yeah well the rule still applies”. Even though it might be mostly your fault it was still funny that he was dictating a rule set in place so they wouldn't walk in on you having sex when you actually hadn’t even had sex in god knows how long.

The reason why you were mostly at fault for the fact was that yes you were the first to cool down with initiating it but you didn't accept Eddie’s advances even when he tried. But recently you just hadn’t been in the mood, work had been hectic and you barely had time for each other, to top it all off lately you’d just felt a dip in your confidence. The fact that you were now in your 40s just seemed to catch up with your busy brain, you didn't look the way you did when you and Eddie first got together, or even the way you did just a few years ago. You'd always been on the bigger side of scales but that never bothered you, in fact your looks weren’t even the problem, objectively. It was the way you felt inside, old, tired, unnatractive, it had caused you to pull back from him, curl in on yourself and throw yourself into being a mom and a good boss.

Eddie had to keep reminding himself that there wasn't a chance in the realm of possibility that the reason you were staying late at work had anything to do with anything other than work. Something he found himself telling his brain a lot whenever your nearest colleague Greg resurfaced in his mind. Greg was a sweet lovely man who worked just below you, but it was hard to remind himself of that as he thought about the many hours you spend at work alone with him. Even though he was a good kind soul he was undoubtedly attractive, even though he knew you were loyal to your husband and he to his wife and even though he knew he was more your type than Greg was it was still a constant bicker in his brain.

–

The rest of the morning was even worse, such a drastic change from lounging around the house or almost falling asleep on a blanket in the yard as you attempted to read. Kids were everywhere, everyone was talking, moving around and trying to get to the food served for breakfast, it was stressful to say the least. You were used to large crowds, parties, concerts and other events but now it was just too much, and it seemed to show as Eddie wrapped his arms around your shoulders behind you, planting a kiss to your temple as you talked to Tracy, Jeff’s wife. You appreciated the gesture, even though you hadn’t been all too close to him recently and it was clearly beginning to frustrate him he was still there for you, something that made your heart squeeze.

Finally around noon the pace had slowed, some kids were occupied with games and crafts inside while your own played with Luke's, Steve and Nancy's kids in the water. Splashing around happily as Nancy floated around nearby while you took the chance to get to know Luke's wife Simone and Jeff’s Tracy better. Eddie, Steve, Gareth, Jeff and Luke all lounged around on the chairs pushed into the sand just as it turned to grass behind them.

“So Gare, still sad and single?” Jeff chuckled as he sipped a matching cool beer to the rest “Hah! Sad? I’d take being single any day over commitment and fuckin’ kids” he scoffed, legs spread wide as he tanned under the sun in baggy ombre trunks. “Hey having kids aint that bad” Steve grinned “Oh sure, I bet it's a riot being woken up at 5 am by 6 little assholes every morning” he chuckled.

The sun was high up in the sky, water glittering under the shine as it splashed around by the kids shrieking and laughing. “Ugh, had to remind mine to knock on the fucking door this morning, both of them just waltzed in like they owned the place” Eddie supplied as he looked over at you. Stood by the waters edge laughing at a story Simone was telling, his eyes scanned down your frame quickly, lavender purple full briefs that came up to your waist, just below that glittering jem butterfly hanging from your belly button, a ruching detail at the front and a matching purple halter top to match. He had to look away before he began oggling at your round curves at the way the haltertop bikini pushed your tits up to each other, fuck he would have loved to kiss all the way down your throat and over your chest.

“Ooh ‘fraid the kids are gonna walk in and be scarred for life by your pasty white ass?” Gareth laughed at his joke as his eyes flicked over to you too. “Pffft” Eddie deprecatingly shooed “Nah man, that hasn't been a risk for like ages” he took a large gulp of the cold beer in his hands “Now that I think about it, hasn't been a risk since like before christmas”

“That's what marriage does to ya, too high on the feeling of new love and sparkly lights of wedding planning till they dim and she sees your ugly face at the altar” Gareth sat up to inspect Eddie slightly, Eddie laughed along with the others “Man shut up” he managed through a smile.”She's not pregnant is she?” Luke piped up as everyone was now looking over at the subject in question.

From the corner of your eye you noticed the attention and turned slowly with a soft confused frown, Steve and Luke smiled at you as Jeff quickly averted his gaze, Eddie giving you a forced smile before he slapped Gareth's hand down which was waving at you, fingers wiggling as a seductive smiled painted his features. Your frown deepened as you awkwardly waved back and turned back to the other moms.

Eddie's face switched from annoyed to questioning as he turned from Gareth to Luke “What?” his brows pinched as wrinkles formed on his forehead. “Well when Simone is pregnant she gets kinda distant, doesn’t wanna do anything” he further explained. “Nah man she’s not pregnant, she's got an implant”

“Eh, dont beat yourself up about it, me and Nancy barely have any time for ourselves let alone fucking” Steve waved him off. “Yeah well she's had six kids, probably sick of your junk by now” Jeff chuckled, an eye roll from Steve in return.

“I dunno, she's just busy, got alot on with work and the kids” he pushed his sunglasses further up his face as the sun resurfaced out of a cloud. He did not want to mention Greg and listen to Gareth's lude comments or let any of the others feed him delusions. You were not cheating. “Who knows, maybe she's sick of your junk too. Tell ya what, send her my way I’ll get her walking out a happy woman” Gareth smirked wickedly. “If you don't shut your mouth I’m gonna come over there and beat the shit out of you” he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees to look over at Gareth who put his hands up in surrender.

“Apart from Steve am I the only one not getting some action” before Gareth had a chance to open his mouth Eddie pointed at him “and you shut up” he sneered. “I mean Ariana’s like 16 so she's never really home, so we do.. get the house to ourselves quite a bit..” Jeff answered sheepishly “Great” Eddie turned to Luke “Mine are fuckin’ 3 and 5 but I mean we have some time sometimes” Luke shrugged “How often is sometimes?” Luke cleared his throat and dropped his voice to an awkward tone “Like.. two… three times.. a week” he looked out at the water.

“Jesus christ, so it's not like a normal thing?” he slumped back in his chair, looking back at you, smiling widely as you now stood splashing water at Roxette, not on the beach anymore. “Have you talked to her?” Jeff asked “I mean no not really, but she's made it obvious she doesn’t wanna do anything, so I've just kinda backed off” he looked back at his friend. “But you've tried like starting something?” “Yeah, less and less now but yeah”

“You tried getting her drunk?” Gareth chuckled but fell dead silent as Eddie began to lean forward about to get up and smack him “Chill chill!” he held his hands out in front of him, awaiting the attack. “I just meant loosen her up a little, get her relaxed maybe put her mind off things”

“You're a dick” Eddie flipped him off “He does kind of have a point, maybe she’ll relax a bit” Luke cleared his throat “We could I dunno all sit ‘round the fire after all the kids have gone to bed. Then she might not have to worry about that ya know?”

“I mean I guess, but isn't that like a complete asshole move, get her drunk just so I can get her into bed?” he made a slight look of disgust at the thought “Not drunk, just a little I guess tipsy?”

The conversation continued for a while before the topic changed to Jeff's new job, all sat in the sun basking in the light, soaking it up and talking about nonsense. Ophelia and Roxy came out of the water and Eddie watched as you dried them off lovingly and led them up to the house. He was nursing his fourth beer, head starting to go a little fuzzy as Simone too sent Tom and Oliver up to the house, Nancy was left throwing Bianca around in the water as the other three laughed and all shouted me! me! Me!’s, Dustin the two year old splashing happily by the waters edge. Simone and Tracy made their way up the sand to sit with the guys.

Tracy told Jeff she was going to check on Ariana as Simone plopped herself down in Luke’s lap happily giving him a kiss following up with a giggle when she pulled back “Jesus how many beers have you drank”. She sat mostly quiet as they all continued, now about some recent U.S news, jumping in to add to the conversation as she draped her arm around Luke's shoulders.

Eddie had his back to the house as he opened his fifth beer and leaning back even more into the chair, he didn't see as you came back out of the house walking down towards them. Only laying eyes on you as you rounded his chair at the end of the row of them facing the water, barely registering you before you stood before him. As the others continued talking he looked up at you expectantly, waiting for you to say something, assuming you had come to ask something of him. His heart skipped a beat as you inched closer to him, his fingertips grazing your thigh. “Can I sit?” you ask with a sweet smile, his cloudy brain was too gone with the cool fizzing beer to register that you had spoken as he broke out in a grin witnessing your happy face, it warmed him to see you, you being happy made him happy. He suddenly realised you had talked to him and shook his head attempting to look up at you more serious, you giggled softly at him as he straightened his face up, but hearing those sweet little noises of content made that dopey grin fall right back into place “I said, can I sit?” your voice was so sweet it made his whole brain stop.

“Oh, yeah” he chuckled as he sat up properly, hands itching to touch you. His dopey grin became even dopier, even wider as you turned and bent down to place yourself in his lap, legs coming to curl up and feet slot between his thigh and the space under the armrest. When you settled Eddie’s hand holding his beer settled over your thighs and his other came around your waist, wrapping around you and pulling you towards him to lean against his chest. He almost died as he saw your smile widen at the action and nestle into him, and then even wider as he placed a kiss to your shoulder. He was on cloud nine at the fact that you were sitting in his lap, smiling away. You haven't sat in his lap for a long looong time and the fact that you did it so easily made his heart squeeze and his head spin.

“Oh Simone you never got to tell me about your trip!” you exclaimed as the conversation quieted down “Oh right! So-” she began to recount her crazy trip to Japan she had taken a few weeks ago for work as Eddie took another sip of his beer, light shock painting his features as you took the bottle from him and took your own gulp while you listened intently. The sun was almost right behind Simone and you began to squint as you tried making eye contact with her, you turned to look down at Eddie for only a second before you realised he had his sunglasses on. Casually you reached up a hand to pull them off him and place them on your nose, Eddie chuckled at the action which made you giggle slightly as you continued listening.

With no glasses on now, everything was a lot brighter, he settled into the new position and calmed down from his excitement and finally got a chance to register what you were wearing. A floral short white skirt he had seen before, he remembered well, because last time you had worn it was last year dropping the kids off at Steve’s for a sleepover. Oh he remembered it very well, last time your worn it you'd snuggled up to him on a blanket in the far end of the garden, hidden by trees and bushes, only to be seen from the house and gotten a little bit frisky, teasing turned to tickling which turned to Eddie lying on top of you pounding into you at a furious pace with your panties pushed to the side.

The memories flooded back to him and he realised that if he just moved his hand on your waist down a little bit, and then a little bit more he would find the hem of it and could slip his hands under the fabric to rest his broad palm on the fat of your ass, give you a little squeeze. Before he had time to consider it his eyes cast a glance at your top. Fuck. That brown crochet halter top that he had seen you curled up on the couch making as you watched tv in late January. From his position he could see right over you, tits pushed together by the way the triangles tied behind your neck, could see that one little freckle he always liked to give a kiss, could see that little scar almost hidden on the right. Fuck he wanted to grab them, and kiss them, and suck on your nipples to draw that one little whine at first contact, no he wanted to watch them bounce up and down in you bra as you rode him, no! He wanted to watch them bounce up and down as he sat back on his calves thrusting into you so aggressively that your tits would bounce up and slap you in the face and make you roar out laughing, NO! he wanted to hover over your ribs as you looked up at him with that twinkle in your eyes as you held your tits together, mushing around his cock slipping back and forth in the lube he kept in his nightstand. FUCK.

He had to look away, something, something that could find his attention, yes the tag on the bottle you were holding, yeah he was gonna read that. Now is not the time to get hard you asshole, she’s only just sat in your lap, for the first time in ages! on your dick… like right on it… no, fuck, you piece of shit, she’s gonna feel if you get hard and she’s not gonna be happy about it. Well she is smiling, she seems really happy.. Yeah so don’t ruin it fucker, remember last night? Yeah exactly. He was fighting with himself as he pretended to read the beer bottle, eyes following as it moved from its place on the arm rest with your hands loosely wrapped around it, followed it up to your lips as he saw you laugh and press your lips to the rim.

Oh shit those lips he wanted to kiss so badly, wait maybe he could? That's ok right? Kissing? We still kiss? It's not like we don't kiss? Fuck it, if he wanted to kiss his wife, he was going to kiss his wife.

As you brought the bottle back down to the armrest Eddie moved on instinct, his body working faster than his brain, his hand slunk out from under your arms and up to cup your cheek, causing you to turn to him in question, eyebrows raised awaiting him to say something. He didn't say anything, he only began to pull his hand back, slowly bringing you with him. He closed his eyes, it felt like forever, forever forever forever, until suddenly soft lips on his. Everything was in slow motion as if the world stopped around him as moisturised soft plump lips met his own, barely a craze, just a touch and then more, closer, lips pressing slowly to each other and then at its destination, pressed against your lips in a kiss that made him explode inside. Suddenly your lips drew back and so did you.

It was just a peck, a simple peck, but it made his heart stop, as well as time, the world and just about everything else around him. A sigh escaped his chest in content as he opened his eyes to see you smile down at him, his own smile quickly matching yours before you drew back and looked back to Simone. His brain was swimming around in a pool in his head, everything was a daze as he watched you lick your lips and grin slightly, turning to him again to whisper “Taste like beer” that cute nose in a scrunch as you spoke to him.

The daze halted as he chuckled “You too” which earned a smile from you and moved his hand back to splay across your thighs. Finally he turned to the rest of the group and lay notice to Steve a knowing wide grin directed at you, Simone in full ramble as Luke looked up at her in awe, Jeff listening in, and Gareth with an evil smirk on his lips, staring right at him. Eddie's smile faded and was replaced with a sneer directed towards his friend. Gareth's eyes flicked to you and back to Eddie as he mouthed an ooh which made Eddie's loose grip on you tighten immediately and pull you even closer to him, this time not easing up on his hold but insistent on holding you close, as if shielding you from Gareth.

Lunch came along not soon after, thankfully not as hectic as breakfast as Dustin and Suzie had grilled a bunch of hotdogs of various diets and put them all on one table along with bread, ketchup, mustard and dried onions. Everyone free to get drinks out of the various coolers around the kitchen.

The rest of the day was very similar to the morning, everyone hustled outside once the temperatures dropped a few degrees. Both you and Eddie had kept an eye on the girls as you mingled with all the parents and friends around the beach until eventually you walked up to Eddie placing your hand gently by his elbow to tell him you were going to go further up and lie down on a blanket and read in the grass. Eddie had taken the role of watching over the kids as they swam in the lake, at first only watching from the waters edge as he spoke to Dustin and Mike until he ran out on the jetty and cannonballed right next to Roxette, hitting the bottom immediately and landing right on his ass bouncing up to be splashed back in the face by Ophelia. She screamed in laughter as he picked her up and threw her away from him.

When he came up again water dripping down his skin he rejoined Steve and Lucas, as Lucas turned to tell Max something Steve nudged him and cocked his head behind him to the grass “Your wifes asleep” he chuckled as he motioned for Eddie to see you on your stomach, face resting in your crossed arms and book falling from your loosened grasp on it. “Go, I’ll look after the kids” he grinned as Eddie turned back to him. “You sure? I don't wanna-” “Yes I’m sure, just go spend some quality time with your girl” he grinned “Doubt it’ll be much quality time seeing as shes passed out but yeah ok, thanks dude” Eddie patted him on the back as he trudged through the sand, grabbing his towel on the way and patting himself dry.

Yup you were fast asleep he noticed as he got to the blanket and heard your soft snores, he bent down and picked your book up, dog earring the page, closing it and tossing it down into the grass. He groaned softly as he crouched down, falling flat onto his back next to you. Propping his head up on one hand while the other lay limp against his stomach he stared up at the sky through his now retrieved sunglasses. His gaze broke to turn and look towards you as he heard you stir in your sleep, you twisted your hips to pull the leg facing him up in a bend, knee nudging his hip. You seemed to relax for a few seconds before you grunted and turned to fully lay on your side, hands coming to press together and hold your head up only slightly.

Once again you relaxed and Eddie watched you amused with a smile on his face until suddenly an annoyed groan left you and the hand not forced against the ground slipped out from under your head shooting out in search of something. You blindly slapped lightly at the blanket before moving and slapping again, and again until your pinky came in contact with his skin, you hand lifted and slapped lightly against Eddie's chest, he had to fight the snort that threatened to fall from his throat as he watched you.

Finally your hand seemed to find the right place on his chest but surprisingly enough you didn't relax again, instead still hazy with sleep and with your eyes closed you moved on the blanket towards him, forcing your hips forward until you were flush against him. A heavy head thudded to his chest forced an oof to spill from his lips and a thick thigh moved and dropped heavily to drape across him.

You nestled up against him and finally you seemed to relax.

Eddie was beaming, the hand previously on his stomach searching for his towel to prop it up under his head and letting him wrap his arms around you to hold you to him. Soft breathing matched up to an even rise and fall of both your chests as Eddie soaked you up. The happiness he was feeling didn't last though, soon enough he too had fallen asleep under the hot sun and your skin against his.

Both of you awoke with groans as something landed on you, a very wet, very excited Roxette. “Why are you sleeping it's swim time!” she squealed as she rolled off Eddie and sat up. You groaned in pain as you too sat up “Cuz mom and dad are tired Roxy, so please don't jump on us” you told her as you stretched, Eddie doing the same from the ground. “But mom I wanna go play!” she stood up jumping up and down “Ok ok I’m coming hang on” Eddie was about to say something when you stood up and were whisked away by his daughter.

Dinner was tapas, everybody had brought a dish or some sort of food from the store ready to eat from the get go and was set up this time by someone other than Dustin and Suzie. You talked happily to Robin, Nancy, Will and his boyfriend Winter as you all set out plates, cutlery and food for tiny hands to grab excitedly. You ate in conversation with most of the hellfire club as you sat next to Eddie on a worn leather couch, pressing up to him and letting him give you the occasional kiss to your temple or lips, smiling the whole time. Eventually your plate was finished off and Eddie felt you slump against him after putting your plate on the table. His hand wrapped around your shoulders to rest your head on his for a while until eventually you leaned up and told him you were going to lay down for a bit.

You left with a squeeze to your hand and a sympathetic smile from your husband. You were planning on just having a lie down or maybe a quick nap but suddenly your clothes were to hot and too tight and too stifling so you quickly changed out of them and threw on the same ragged t-shirt from last night, falling onto the bed, not getting too comfortable because you didn't really want to fall asleep. The universe didn't seem to hear you though and soon you were fast asleep on top of the bed.

That's how Eddie found you after putting the kids to bed an hour later, knowing they wouldn't sleep with all the excitement of the other kids around but getting them to brush their teeth and change into their pyjamas. They had asked Eddie where you were and why you weren't saying goodnight so Eddie had to explain “Moms not feeling very well so she's resting but she’ll probably come say night night later”. When you told him you were going to your room it seemed like you just needed some quiet but that was clearly not the case when he found you like a log atop the covers.

He sighed, you needed your rest, the past year of work was clearly catching up to you but yet again he couldn't help the slight disappointment when he found you, he'd gotten hopeful and excited from the day, you'd been a lot more touchy than you ever had been the past few months, cuddling up to him, stealing kisses and it seemed that whenever you were near him you had a need to have some sort of contact, whether it be pressed up against him or his arm around you or even just your hand on his arm or thigh but he had to accept that you were too tired and needed to sleep.

Carefully he pulled the covers from under you and placed them back on you as you adjusted in your sleep to lie on your side. Just like yesterday he got in next to you and wrapped his arms around you as the big spoon. Falling asleep to the scent of your hair which his nose was nuzzled against.

This morning the girls actually knocked, waking Eddie from his light slumber to hum a yes at them to come in. Slowly you roused and sat up in bed to listen to your two excited girls tell you all about the cup phones they all made yesterday after dinner and how they had them crisscrossed around the room to talk to each other as Eddie rounded the bed, giving a kiss to your forehead before leaving the room to take a shower.

You were more relaxed at breakfast now that you knew what was coming and you even enjoyed it, sat at the dining table in conversation with Argyle and his girlfriend Eden, Winter and Jonathan's wife Charlotte who got the group's attention by balancing her cereal bowl on her 8 months pregnant belly which you found out would be her and Jonathan's fourth.

Across the room Eddie sat in an armchair next to Steve and Gareth “So you and your girl seemed to be very close yesterday” Steve leaned over and dropped his voice, “Yeah pay off? She put out?” Gareth grinned “That threat of me beating you ass is still on the table” Eddie stared at Gareth who only chuckled “But to answer your question, no she was asleep by the time I got to our room” Eddie shrugged, even if Gareth could be an assshole when it came to women he didnt want it to show that he was disappointed, it would only egg him on.

“Maybe we could do that bonfire thing tonight?” Steve suggested lightly “Besides I wouldn't mind some fun with Nance, she gets so exited when shes drunk its fuckin hilarious” he grinned and looked over towards how wife “Last time she was jumping around imitating a bunny she saw on kids tv” the other two laughed at the picture.

“Sure, we’ll go into town get some drinks, I think Dustin said he only had beer” Eddie shrugged happily.

Today was not the different from yesterday, things to do inside and people down at the beach splashing away. “Hey” Eddie bent down to talk to you as you sat on the couch playing shoots and ladders with a few of the kids after lunch “so were all having a bonfire night once the kids have gone to bed” Eddie smiled wide at your happy smile “so me and some of the guys are heading into town to pick some stuff up” you nodded and gave him a kiss before he headed off with Will and Dustin.

Dinner passed and you were pleasantly surprised that tiredness hadn’t overcome you. All the parents tucked their kids into bed and made a clear point that if anything were to happen they were just outside and to come get them if they needed to.

Eddie called your name with a yo you in here? as he knocked on the bathroom door nearest your bedroom, instead of answering him you unlocked the door and peeped out an intense stare directed his way “Sorry you can't come in without a warrant” you broke out into a grin as you went to shut the door, Eddies hand grasping onto the wood and forcing it open in a fit of giggles as you tried to fight him. Finally he stumbled in, almost knocking you over and catching you in his arms.

He locked the door behind him as he looked down at you “Mmm you smell nice” he hummed as his eyes took in your bare face, damp to match you hair, you giggled “Just had a shower” you explained as you slid out of his hold to pick your clothes off the floor. Eddie was slightly miffed as you brushed past him in just your towel and unlocked the door but he followed nonetheless.

Walking behind you as you tread carefully over the floorboards, hips swaying from side to side as you walked, Eddie leaned back to get a full view of you, hair wet and dripping water over your shoulders, thighs peeking out from under the towel, only long enough to cover your ass, eyes rolling to the back of his head as the towel pulled up slightly to reveal a peak of the bottom. Within an instant his hands circled your waist and picked you up, leaning back on his feet to pull you up off the floor. You squealed at him to let you down as you giggled, only dropping you back down to land softly when he thought he might fall over backwards from bending to steep.

“What was that?” you whispered as you began walking again, Eddie awkwardly tumbling along with his arms still around you “You just looked so liftable” he whispered back biting your cheek mischievously. You snorted an ok and opened the door to your bedroom.

Today you had been in a good mood, it seemed the long night sleep and absence of pressure to be productive had taken to you and you were still on a high from it. So pleased that you didn't even let your mind work up into a frenzy as Eddie let you go and flopped onto the bed.

You didn't think anything of it as you dropped the towel to change, the fact that Eddie hadn’t seen you naked since before christmas didn't even cross your mind.

Stood with your back to him you rooted through your bag to find a comfortable pair of sweats and a hoodie, preparing for the cold outside now that the sun had gone beyond the horizon. Eddie sat up straight in an instant. Eyes bulging wide and trained on you as the towel dropped to the floor when you found your clothes. He swallowed thick as you moved to another bag to look for underwear.

Holy shit. You were naked, like fully naked, no towel, no nothing covering you. Fuck he hadn’t seen this sight in over six months and here you were bathed in the moonlight and dim lighting of the old ceiling lamp, gold cast over your body, spotlighting the smooth skin, and rolls of your back, the stretch marks and cellulite of your thighs, the dimples in your back, every little colour and inked tattoo that showed in your skin. All out for him to see, all for him.

You turned with your clothes clutched to your chest to see a pin straight Eddie with wide awestruck eyes, mouth open in shock. “What?” you chuckled confused as you walked over to the foot of the bed, dropping your clothes onto the fabric. Eddie's brain stopped working as your front was revealed to him, soft breasts sloping down in a natural drop, a sliver of metal and nipples almost out of sight, round and calling to him like two beams of light in the night, your soft stomach spilling down, a patch of hair covering your puffy mound, framed by your soft doughy thighs. Fuck he just wanted to grip and suck and lick and kiss everything he saw right now, matter of fact he wanted to get down on his hands and knees and worship the ground you walked on as well as whatever higher entity out there that had created you.

You started to grow slightly uncomfortable under his gaze, suddenly feeling extremely exposed, an urge to cover yourself growing strong. In a rush you reached for your underwear to pull the black brazilian cut lace panties over your ass and hips. You looked over at Eddie again to see his mouth open and close as he blinked, awfully resembling a fish, it only encouraged you to get dressed faster, clasping the black bra and spinning it around to pull the straps up your arms. Once again you looked at Eddie, whose expression still had not changed, you threw the t-shirt over your head and jumped into your sweats, pulling the hoodie over yourself as you looked back. “Umm” Eddie started but trailed off “I'm going to the bathroom” you blurted out and within seconds you had practically ran out of the door.

Eddie stayed still, blinking and trying to wrap his head around what he had just seen. Finally he snapped out of it and shook his head, falling over on his side with a loud groan, pulling at the sheet to cover his face. What is wrong with you?! Your wife is naked for the first time in fucking forever and you just sit there?! He groaned even louder as he smushed his face into the comforter.

Finally you came to the realisation that you had just been naked in front of Eddie for the first time in a really long time, you rushed back into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet with your face in your hands. Well clearly you weren't just ugly on the inside now, you were ugly on the outside too. Why else would he just sit there and stare at you like you'd grown a second head? UGH what were you going to do?! You had finally loosened up, you were happy within yourself for the first time in ages and felt comfortable around Eddie again, you clearly should have had more control over yourself. He no longer found you attractive, Jesus Christ why were you kidding yourself?

A knock on the door broke you out of your spiral as you weakly asked a yes, the person outside of the door cleared their throat. It was Eddie. Oh, no, no no no no no. “Um, uh you wanna go down? Uh Mike just said the fire is lit” his voice sounded strained, uncomfortable. He was uncomfortable because he’d seen you naked and didnt like it, and now you had nowhere to hide AAAARGHHHH. “Yeah sure” your voice was broken as you spoke.

Slowly slowly you stand, slowly slowly you step towards the door, and slowly slowly you turn the nob. Eyes pinned to the floor as you walk out of the door, you see Eddie's feet as you walk past them and walk down the hall, you hear him follow behind you. This is the worst feeling, so much worse than coming home late from work hungry, or being in too big of a crowd, or too tight clothes on a hot sweaty day, this unease is so much worse.

Time ticks by slowly as you feel like you're walking to your execution, feet dragging across the floor shameful as Eddie walks behind you. Anxiety, heartbreak, stress, unease, insecurity all bubble up in your chest, threatening to bubble up to the surface through hot tears if you let yourself. You feel it in your chest, plummeting down to your stomach and spreading all through your body like slim black vines as if a disease, darkening everything inside you. Until a touch, a slight intentional braze of fingers that send sparks, gold touching at your hip and overpowering some of the black. Gold vines take over throughout your hip as you feel a soft hand grasp onto it, guiding you down the stairs.

Another spark of gold bleeding out into your vines on the other as Eddie holds softly onto your hips as your feet hit the ground floor. Gold vines that threaten to overpower the black and meet in the middle just below your belly button. Your breath hitches and speeds up in anxiety.

One hand leaves your hip and the gold dies off as quickly as it came, as the first on your right hip slips to hold the small of your back, the gold follows, bleeding from its starting point and stretching as you bend down to slip into your sneakers. The hand never wavers as Eddie leans down to slip his own shoes on, the heat from it causing the gold to continue without the order of touch, spreading slowly through your back, creeping up your spine in a shiver.

He opens the door to near 20 people scattered around a brazen fire, reds and oranges contrasting the deep dark blues of the sky and the shade its cast around them all. You step cautiously down the now dark green stairs, feet hitting the gravel before they hit grass as you veer off to the side away from the parking lot. “Hey” Eddie whispered beside you as you walk, coming to a stop as you turn to look up at him. Eyes glassy and scared at what his words might do to you. Just as he opens his mouth “Hey!” Robin runs over and pulls you off by the arm so she can show you something.

Eddie stands frozen, What just happened? he was about to apologise to you for being so weird. His feet drive him forward however and before he can think it over he’s by the mass of people, eyes zoning in on the table of drinks set up he makes a beeline for it. Pouring a shot of tequila he downs it, and then a second, before he can get ahead of himself he picks up a beer can, popping the tab he scans the crowd. His eyes find Steve not far away and quickly he's marching over “I need to talk to you” he says with a grip on the man's arm almost pulling him away from the scene.

A few metres away from the nearest cluster of figures he stops “Dude what's up?” Steve chuckles, confused “I just saw her naked” is all Eddie can say, Steve's confusion just deepens on his face “For the first time in over like six months” he widens his eyes willing Steve to understand. “Oh, oooh how’d it go?” Steve grins. “Fucking terrible!” Eddie shouts exasperated, quickly straightening up with eyes wide turning to see if someone heard. Everyones too fixated on their own conversation as he looks over at the people around the campfire but he finds you at the drinks table with Robin and Nancy cheering you on as you seem to be taking three shots in a row.

He turns back to Steve “How was it terrible?” Stevs confused again as he stares up at the taller man “Because Steve, she took her towel off and I just sat there” Steves face shows once again that he doesn’t understand “I just sat there, gawking at her like I’d never seen tits before, like some fuckin’ teenager” he grits. “Oh. Wait so walk me through it” he took a swig of his own can, some fruity cider. “Ok. So she was in the room, well actually, no, here” Steve frowns at Eddie's backtracking “So she was in the bathroom so I knocked on it and she stuck her head out grinning saying I needed a restraining order” Steve smirked but chose not to make a comment “And so she liked tried to close the door and I tried to open it and get in. Ah before you say anything it was just like flirty fun, nothing weird” Steve nodded “And she was all giggly, then we left the bathroom and I like picked her up and she was all giggly then too” “Ok ok” Steve nodded along “Then when we got to the room I just sat on the bed and she just like dropped the towel while she was looking for her clothes, then she turned and I think she said something I can't remember, but then she started like pulling all her clothes on, said she was going to the bathroom and ran off” he finished his recounting of the recent events with a few large gulps of his beer, almost downing half of it.

“Sounds like you freaked her out dude. Did you like explain why you were being so weird?” Steve tipped his head back to finish the rest of his cider. “Well I was gonna but then Robin just came up and ran off with her” both of them looked over to see you now stood with Robin, Nancy, Max and El a large glass of wine in your hand.

“Just go up and talk to her now, explain” Eddie screwed his face up at the thought of pulling you away to awkwardly explain why he just sat there “Listen, Nancy gets insecure about her body sometimes maybe she is too” Steve shrugged as they looked back to each other “She's like never ever insecure though, and I don't even think its hiding, she likes her body ya know” the rest of Eddies beer was slung down his throat. “Yeah but you might have made her insecure dude” “Ugh don't say that!” Eddie groaned, his beer was gone he needed something to fiddle with, to distract him, patting his pockets he found his packet of cigarettes, ones he usually kept out of view so the kids wouldn't see him smoking. He flicked his zippo and took a long breath once the cigarette was lit.

“I’m serious dude, it's not just the first time you've seen her naked it's the first time she's been naked in front of you, might be kinda scary”

“Since when do you know all about women?”

“Wel-”

“Don't start” Eddie held his finger up to silence him.

“Just go talk to her ok?”

“Fine, but I’m gonna finish this up first, think you can go get me a beer? Don't really wanna look like im ignoring her”

“Sure” Steve walked off as Eddie turned his back to the fire to crane his neck back in frustration, looking up at the sky.

“Steve used to be like that with me” Nancy giggled in the huddle as Steve walked up to grab a beer and another cider. “I used to be like what?” he grinned as he leaned over the table “Butt out dingus” Robin stuck her tongue out “Nothing babe” Nancy hid a grin behind her solo cup as she looked away. Steve narrowed his eyes in suspicion at his wife “It's just girltalk” you smiled at him which made Steve's face break out into an expression you couldn't read.

“Alright well” Steve spun on his heel and power walked back to Eddie “You better talk to her now, I’m pretty sure I overheard the girls talking about it” Steve rushed as he forced the cold can into Eddie's hands. “Oh for fucks sake” he groaned as he took the beer and began walking over to the table. He saw as Robin awkwardly hushed the group as she laid eyes on him which made his nerves bubble up, yeah they were definitely talking about it.

“Drink all that beer that fast?” Robin chuckled as Eddie neared “Mmhmn no” Eddie held his unopened can up for show as he arrived behind you “Can I talk to you?” he bend down as he dropped his voice lower, breath fanning over your ear as he spoke. “Ok” you whispered back meekly. He had no idea about girl code, and had absolutely no clue what the looks all the others were giving you meant as you set your plastic wine glass on the table and turned to walk away from them.

You walked silently side by side as he nonverbally steered you towards the cars, the three shots and half glass of wine causing for a pleasant buzz, dampening some of the anxiety you felt “Um you want a beer?” he asked quietly as he held out the can towards you when you came to a stop by your own car “No thanks” you mumbled as Eddie seemed to cage you in at the hood of the car. You frowned surprised when he flung the can behind him to softly roll into the grass, he needed his hands free for this and he hadn't had a chance to drink it before he came over.

“So what you wanna talk about?” you fiddled with the string of the cuffs of your worn out hoodie which was actually Eddies as you leaned back to prop yourself slightly on the hood of the car. “Um I just wanted to uh tell you I'm sorry for just like sitting there super awkward before” he looked down at you as you stared into his stomach unwilling to meet his gaze. “If I’m being honest I was just like shocked, we haven't really uh done.. that, in like a long time and it was just sudden” he saw you physically curl in on yourself which made him freak out “No no not like bad sudden, good sudden” you finally met his gaze, looking up at him confused “Fuck, I just mean like I’ve missed you and my brain just like short circuited” he tried to get you to understand.

A breath he didnt know he had been holding finally escaped his lips as he saw a small smile tug on your lips “I dont wanna make you like uncomfortable, but when I saw you I was just like, holy fuck, she’s naked and I think this is the best thing I’ve ever seen” the grin that spread on his face was a relieved one as you snorted a laugh “Im serious, like baby” his hands came to rest on your shoulder “You are so fuckin’ sexy and just every part of you is like some greek goddess has sculpted you or something. I’m totally ok with us not being intimate, even though I do miss you I just want you to feel safe and comfortable, and for you to be happy but I really do miss you. Obviously I miss you like as a person, you're my wife, and the mother of my children and I love you so much, but like above that fuuuuuck I miss being with you” he groaned as he thought about how long it had been.

Something swelled within you at his words, you wanted to laugh at his phrasing of being sculpted by a greek goddess but the meaning behind the words were just too flustering and sincere. And following up with that stupid wording he knew made you weak in the knees, mother of my children, yeah you liked that. You were the mother of his children, his wife.

“I’m sorry” you whispered as Eddies hands travelled down to rub up and down your arms “It’s just been a lot recently, in my head and work and all and I pushed you away I’m sorry” Eddie manoeuvred his knee to push yours apart so he could stand between them and be closer to you “Don’t say sorry, you have nothing to be sorry for. We’ve both just been shit at telling each other things” as he towered over you you craned your neck back to see him properly, a grin spread across your face as you said in a whiny voice “Communication is key”.

Eddie laughed and brought his arms to wrap around your shoulders, pressing your face into his chest as he hugged you, kissing the top of your head as your own arms wrapped around his waist. You both lingered for a while as you hugged each other tight until Eddies arms loosed and he pulled back to look down at you again “While I do want to know what's been going through your pretty little head lately, why don't we go enjoy the fire and talk more when we get back?” you nodded with a smile. Eddie turned to walk back with you but spun around as you called his name. “One more thing” “Mm?” you grasped onto the fabric of his sweatshirt and pulled him down towards you.

Lips meeting his in a desperate hungry kiss you wrapped your arms around Eddie's neck as his hands went to your hips, holding you softly to keep himself upright. He thought you were just going in for a long kiss when you broke off but soon enough your lips were back on him again as your fingers snaked through his locks. Another kiss and a tug at his hair had him groaning into your mouth as his hands squeezed tighter at your hips. A few more kisses and he felt your tongue poke softly at his lips telling him to open them. He pulled you flush against him as tongues swiped at each other, his hands moving from your hips past your back to grab angrily at you ass, pulling you up to stand and pushing your hips against his, forcing his hard cock against your mound, groaning at the contact and pressing even harder against you.

You pulled away from his lips and quickly out of his grasp “Ok now I’m happy” you laced your fingers with his as he stood dumbstruck, you began walking pulling him along with you “What??” his voice was slightly loud as he stumbled along after you “What? I said one more thing, that was my thing” you turned to grin at him wickedly “Oh you little-” he let go of you to run after you and lift you up off your feet as you squealed. The second he let you down you ran off with Eddie hot on your tail, tackling you almost immediately and turning you in his hold to face him so he could attack your hips with wiggling fingers, laughing as you shrieked from the tickling.

He ceased his attack on your sides as you stepped closer to the group, wrapping his arms around you once again and stepping up behind you to join the group around the drinks table. Steve gave him a knowing smirk as you bent over still attached to Eddie to retrieve a beer for him from the cooler on the ground and your wine, you giggled as he shoved the hand hold the ice cool beer under your hoodie to press against your warm stomach, fighting to move his hands away from you. “OOH smores! Come on!” Robin beckoned the group to sit in the half circle of logs around the fire, all squeezing together to fit as Robin planted herself on the ground to fish marshmallows out of ita bag.

“May I interest you in a shot of everclear mi ladies?” Gareth grinned as he stumbled over to you, Eddie, Nancy and Steve on one of the longs “Nah nah” Eddie waved the hand not wrapped around you in dismissal, “We got kids you dummy, gotta get up in the morning” Steve rolled his eyes at him. “More for me!” Gareth swiped all four each one after the other “I am NOT on duty to take care of this one!” Eddie held a hand up in the air as Gareth finished his last one. “Whaaaat? You don't wanna be my daddy?!” Gareth whined as he toppled over onto Eddie, Eddie’s hand coming to push him off, pressing hard against his stomach while everyone else laughed.

“Go sit down you drunk” Eddie motioned for Gareth to sit down next to Steve. “Oh hey Rob’s can you get me a vodka coke?” You smiled as the woman in question pushed herself off the ground, she gave you a thumbs up as Eddie leaned in “Vodka? How much have you drank already?” His breath fanned once again against you ear as he spoke to you in a low murmur “Eh its fine, I’m not planning on getting drunk” you waved him off “Mhm” Eddie hummed sarcastically as you grinned up at him.

“Jesus Robin how much did you put in here” your face scrunched up as you took a sip, you didn't particularly mind the taste of alcohol but you hadn't expected it to taste so incredibly strong “Like 80% vodka 20% coke” she grinned a dopey mischievous grin as she found her seat again “Chug it ya wont taste it” her grin widened even more “Come on chug chug chug!” she clapped her hands together as a few of the girls chimed in “You don't have to” Eddie searched your face with serious eyes “No no it's fine” your grin matched Robins as you looked up at him before swallowing the whole of the contents in the red solo cup. You cheered along excitedly as you crushed it and threw it down onto the ground.

Eddie felt you sway slightly as you sat up straight, well it seemed like the getting tipsy had gone a little too well, no doubt by the end of the evening you would be hammered and pass out again on the bed. It's fine he told himself, we’ll just do something.. another day. “Yo lets go get the chairs it's getting kinda cramped over here” Dustin walked over with Lucas and Mike on his tail “Oh sure. You gonna be ok?” he bent down to ask you as you stared up at the sky in a daze. “Huh? Oh yeah yeah” yup you were definitely drunk as you tried to focus your eyes on his face, he had a slight suspicion Robin hadnt put one single brand of vodka in your cup before handing it to you. “Nance could you..” he trailed off as he motioned to you, asking her to keep an eye on you, she nodded happily as he stood up, hands hovering around you to make sure you didn't fall over.

When he saw you could sit by yourself he grabbed into his sweatshirt by the collar and pulled it over his head, the fire was getting too warm for him, dropping it down next to you to occupy his place he got up and followed the others down to the edge of the beach.

“Oh!” you squealed as you planted a hand on his hoodie to feel the square cardboard box, digging through his pocket in mass concentration you managed to free the cigarettes and flipped open the top to see his zippo and a few cigarettes. Pulling the zippo and a cigarette out you turned to face Nancy, Tracy and Simone again as you lit the cigarette. Happily taking the next red solocup handed your way by Tracy. Taking a long breath and giggling as the nicotine swam up to your head, mind feeling floaty as you swayed from side to side, even more so as you sipped what seemed to be more vodka coke, this time not as strong.

“Aw man who let you-” Eddie cut himself off as returned a few minutes later, plucking the zippo and carton out of your hands after placing a chair down in the half circle of logs. You cackled as you watched him shove the packet out of view, this time into his jeans “Baby you know how you get when you smoke drunk” he grabbed into your free hand helping you stand up as you sucked down your second cigarette, almost empty solo cup left behind on the log. He led you back to the chairs to see one empty chair left “Really dude?” Gareth grinned as he spread out into the chair next to the empty one, revelling in Eddie's annoyance “Fine” Eddie breathed “Wait here” he told you as he turned to get his sweatshirt.

Gareth mumbled something to you as you swayed, trying not to fall over “What?” you almost shouted as you leaned forward, placing your hands on the armrest of Gareth's chair and dropping your head down to hear him. He said something again but your mind was too fuzzy to understand as you brought the cigarette back up to your lips. “Gareth stop flirting with my wife” you heard Eddie grit behind you as his hands slithered around your hips to bring you down with him as he sat down in the chair. “Whoo!” you squealed as you fell into Eddie's lap, flinging your hands into the air as if you were on an amusement park ride.

When you’d brought them back down you took another drag of the cigarette, closing your eyes as you exhaled, falling backwards onto Eddie's shoulder as your head began to spin back and back with the kick.

Eddie chuckled as he plucked the tobacco from your fingers and began talking to Will and Winter, he knew this was going to happen, everytime you drank and smoked your head began to spin, same with weed and smoking, if he wasn't careful enough you would fall flat on your ass with the dizziness. Suddenly you shot up, leaning forward “Oh Ophi loves that magazine!” you must have picked up on Winter talking about some fashion magazine Eddie hadn't heard of before. Soon you were in a deep conversation about the fashion industry and how hiphop had had an effect on it but within seconds Eddie zoned out.

You kept swaying back and forth, body vibrating with laughter as you flung yourself from side to side varying between leaning over to listen intently as catching up with your brain to form words. You were clearly quite out of it, wrapped up in your conversation and thinking nothing of it but Eddie did. The first few times you moved he didn't pay it any mind, but soon you were almost squirming above him, no longer just swaying but moving your ass, soon enough you were situated right on his crotch.

Eddie tried to pay attention to what Will was telling him, he really did but you just kept moving around, pressing even harder against him as you relaxed and dropped your weight down. The friction was just too much. Can she feel this? Does she even know she's moving so much? No she can’t feel I’m hard she’s too drunk. Fuck please don’t realize, shit. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, subtly trying to press you up against him more. What are you doing there’s people around! Fuuuuuck, you moved a little just as he pulled you flush to his chest and now he was situated right between your cheeks, pressure coming from all sides. He snapped his head when he heard you hum, could you actually feel him? Were you doing this on purpose?

Suddenly you turned your head and before he even had a chance to think about it your lips were on his in a hard kiss. As you broke apart he pulled away to frantically look around, Will and Winter were no longer next to you, he noticed them at the drinks table, now talking to Suzie, everyone else were in conversation all in their own worlds, drinking or making smores. Gareth had passed out next to him, Steve listened with a grin as Nancy talked excitedly, Jonathan and Charlotte were whispering to each other, matching smiles as their noses pressed to each others.

He found your eyes again, looking down at him with a drunken smile, eyes darting down to his lips with your pupils blown wide as glossed over, he gulped. That was a sight he hadn't seen in a long time, the want, need, in your eyes as you looked at him. You leant down again, capturing him in a sloppy kiss, he groaned into your mouth as you wriggled in his lap, turning to face him better. Hands coming up to wrap your arms around his shoulder as you sat twisted to face him. Lips smacking against each other desperately, hands planting firmly on your hips and squeezing, trying to twist you, and pull your chest to his.

Finally you broke apart with a heavy breath, Eddie's closed eyes opened slowly to admire your face with a smile. Before he had the chance though, you were sliding off him and getting to your feet with a grin, Eddie groaned and toppled over, hands coming to his crotch as his forehead almost nudged his knee. It had been a natural reaction, to cover his boner, now that he had he realised hiding it just made his problem all the more noticeable. He gave Steve the finger as he cackled at him just as you skipped off saying something about getting a drink.

Clearing his throat he had no other option but to follow his drunken wife, he reached for his sweatshirt that had been hung on the armrest and pulled it over him, making an effort to pull it down low in the front. Reluctantly he pulled himself out of the chair, his slow steps turning into large strides as he saw what you were doing. Within a second he was next to you pulling the bottle of everclear out of your hands “Hey!” you whined as you set your solo cup down. “Babe this is 95% alcohol, and I am not having you throw up all over me tonight” he set the bottle down and gathered you in a hug.

“Mean, you dont wanna take care of me? I see how it is” you joked as you made a show of untangling yourself from him, only making Eddie hold onto you tighter. “Of course I wanna take care of you” I’ll show you how fucking good I can take care of you “But I’d rather have you not throw up if I can” you made a mocking whine which caused a chuckle bubble up from Eddies chest.

“Let's get you some juice or something yeah?” he grinned down at you as you nodded “Jesus christ all these drinks and not a single thing alcohol free” he frowned as he inspected the table, all the mixers now gone. “There's some cartons inside” Dustin chipped in “Thanks dude”.

So Eddie was turning you in his arms to hold at your hips as he led you steadily up to the house, laughing as you stumbled and almost tripped over your own feet, slowly he led you up the steps and through the door. “Okay” he breathed as he walked you to the kitchen island, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up to sit on the wood “Oh my god!” you squealed as he lifted you “I forgot you could do that! Do it again!” you squealed. Eddie shushed you quietly “I will if you keep your voice down a little, the kids are asleep downstairs” he pecked your lips as he turned to open the fridge “Oh riiiight” you leaned towards his back with an exaggerated whisper.

Just as Eddie turned he saw you about to fall over the edge, shooting a hand out to catch your arm, placing the juice on the table and coming around to hold onto both your arms and coax you upright. “Ok my little fall risk whose like a newborn baby that can't support its head” you snorted loudly as Eddie grabbed the juicebox next to you and poked the straw through the seal. Legs pressing up against the table to stand between your thighs, keeping you sitting up “Here, drink this” he held out the juicebox to you, which you took and drank all within one breath, slurping noises within the carton as you finished it.

Wiping your mouth you looked back up to him with a wide grin, collapsing into his chest and mushing your cheek to the green fabric. Eddie chuckled as his hands came to circle your back “I think it's time for you to go to bed yeah?” he whispered as you pushed yourself closer to him humming in agreement “But you have to carry me” Eddie laughed. He hadn’t carried you for a while, but he’d like to think he was still strong enough, lean muscles hidden under all his clothes from hard work at the auto shop. The only thing was that you were very drunk and he was afraid he’d drop you. “Ok” he whispered, marvelling in your giggle as he bent his knees and wrapped his arms around your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder.

“What? You told me to carry you” he drummed on your ass as he began walking past the dining table earning a drunken laugh from you.

Somehow he managed to make it up the stairs and down the hall, throwing you playfully onto the bed, just as he was about to pull away from you to stand up two hands fisted at his sweatshirt, pulling him onto the bed sloppily as your lips connected to his. As you continued kissing him he moved, never disconnecting his lips from yours as he lay himself between your thighs.

His brain stopped as he heard your soft moan against him as he pushed himself flush against your clothed cunt. He needed to hear that sound again. He thrusted his hips hard against yours to hear your moan again this time slightly louder, quick to muffle it by kissing you harder. One of his hands on your hips travelled quickly under your hoodie to first at your breast over your bra. FUUUUUCKKK he hadn’t gotten to feel your tits in so long and now that he did it felt like fucking heaven.

Grabbing onto you desperately as he set a pace of thrusting his hard cock against you, sloppily swiping his tongue against yours. Soft groans and moans from both of you muffled by each other as you made out. Eddie couldn't begin to explain how good this felt, kissing you, touching you, it was too much for him. His pace quickened against you as you pulled at his hair, other hand pulling at the hem of his sweatshirt. Getting the hint he sat up on his calves to rip his shirts off, cock throbbing with eagerness as your hands travelled lightly over his happy trail, past his stomach and up his chest, hand grabbing at his neck pulling him back to you.

His lips connected to yours again as he cupped your face and let your hand trail up his side and grip at his shoulder. He pulled away to breathe, staring down at your face, eyes blown wide and filled with lust, kiss bitten lips, hips squirming for friction against him. You were drunk, he knew he shouldn't be doing this when you were drunk but he couldn't help himself, he hadn't felt you in ages and now that he’d gotten a taste he couldn't stop himself.

Sitting up again he pulled at your hoodie, urging you to sit up so he could pull it off you, nimble fingers eagerly unclipping your bra before pushing you back against the bed. Breath cut short as his nose pushed against your cheek and his lips connected to yours. His hips gave a particularly hard thrust as his hand went back to squeezing at your now naked breast, barbell piercing pinched between his fingers as his other hand propped him up, causing you to moan against him as the zipper of his jeans caught against your clit, igniting a fire within your core you hadn't felt for a while.

Your moan egged him on to thrust even harder as his lips relentlessly kissed yours. He heard a knock at the door but chose to ignore it, he had you here, in your bed for the week, topless, kissing him, moaning for him, wanting him, there was nothing he would do to stop this moment. The knock came again and he pulled away yelling an angry “WHAT?!” into the room. Aggravated and annoyed that there was something outside of this room, the world that had stopped around him, that needed him more than you did right now, more than he needed you.

It showed on his face, the annoyance which dropped immediately as well as his heart as he heard the low scared whisper “Daddy?” his forehead dropped to yours as he closed his eyes, breathing out a sigh “Yeah?” he called without moving from his comfortable position against you. “Um.. I peed” the voice whispered shamefully, Roxette on the other side of the door, no doubt clutching her teddy bear close to her as she called for her dad.

Eddie sighed against you as you let out a low giggle, the whole situation was kind of funny. Eddie straining against his jeans and boxers, frustrated and only thinking of you naked below him and his daughter interrupting to tell him she peed herself.

“Coming!” he moved slightly above you, staring down in to your eyes as he whispered “Don't go anywhere I’ll be right back” a hard kiss to your lips as he scrambled off you, making no effort to cover his bare chest as he walked to the door, opening it and slipping out you heard Roxy on the other side of the door ask curiously “Where’s mom?” “Uh she’s sleeping”. Boner gone, and everything else that surrounded you, gone for the moment as he took his daughter into the bathroom, placing her in the shower as he ran to retrieve a fresh change of clothes and bedding in your room, groaning as he saw you now on the bed in only a pair of panties. Rushing as fast as he could to change the sheets, his daughter and then soak them all off and hang them up outside to dry.

The five minutes he thought it would take stretched to a near half hour as he was caught up having to explain to multiple people why he was hanging bedding up and then staying with Roxette as she begged him to stay till she drifted off.

Finally he made it back to your room, taking a heavy breath in preparation before opening the door, heart dropping as he found you naked atop the covers, on your side, and fast asleep.

He loved his daughters but could they be more of a cockblock?! He went through the same motions as yesterday, tucking you in and shuffling in next to you to wrap his arms around you. He had to remind himself that there were five days left of this trip, plenty of opportunities to get you alone.

You woke up confused, head throbbing and.. naked? Why were you naked? You frowned as you tried to remember last night: Getting dressed and feeling insecure, shots, talking to Eddie about it, more drinking, something in the kitchen and oh right you and Eddie made out shirtless but you couldn't remember anything else. “Hey Eddie” you nudged the man behind you who groaned “Eds” your shook him slightly “What?” he grumbled behind you “Did we have sex last night?” you turned in his arms to face him as he opened his eyes “We were about to but Roxette peed herself” he murmured, there was a hint of annoyance and frustration in his voice as he recounted last nights events before nuzzling into your shoulder and pulling you tighter against him. “Oh” you breathed as you hand found his back, “Total cockblock” he mumbled against your skin drawing a snort from your throat.

So you were about to have sex with Eddie last night, for the first time in over six months. You found as you thought about it that you weren’t totally against that idea, it felt strange thinking about it, for so long you’d set up walls to block him out and now you felt like you didn't want them there anymore. They were in your way.

A knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts “Just a minute baby!” you called as you scrambled to get away from Eddie, turning to look down at the floor, Eddie's Metallica t-shirt that lay inside his sweatshirt was the closest, you hastily pulled it to you, throwing it over your head as you sat up against the headboard. “Yeah come in!” you called to the door as you felt Eddie's hand fall limp on your thigh.

Ophelia and Roxette shuffled through the door, Ophelia going straight for her clothes and Roxette climbed onto the bed, laying her head in your lap and onto Eddie's hand. “Dad moooove” she shoved at his hand as he grunted in his sleep, flicking his hand in an attempt to move her head away “Daaad” she whined as she pushed at his hand, his hand slid down to hold your knee instead.

“I heard you had a little accident, you ok baby?” you stroked her hair as she settled back in your lap “Mm peed myself” she pouted “But no one saw so I think its ok” she told you. “And your dad cleaned you up you ungrateful” Eddie mumbled the rest of his sentence into the pillow as he rolled onto his stomach. “Oh, yeah dad helped”

Soon enough everyone was dressed and downstairs, “So!” Dustin clapped his hands together, gaining the attention of the room “Today is waterpark day!” he referred to the plan he had already set in place. Kids excitedly shovelling food into their mouths after the walkthrough of the day before running to their parents rooms to get dressed and ready.

Roxy was very excited about her new swimsuit, a blue flowery two piece with a blouse resembling top, but huffed when Eddie told her to come over so he could put sunscreen on her before they went out because she’d want to jump in the water as soon as they got to the waterpark.

Bags were packed, cars were started and everyone changed as 10 cars and two minivans rolled out onto the road. Setting up camp in a cluster of beach chairs under parasols plans were made. All the kids were very excited, making it quite difficult to get them all gathered and keep them from running off. “Mom I don’t wanna wear the floaters!” Roxette whined as you blew the arm puffs up for her. “Baby you have to” popping the cap closed you started with the other “But Ophelia doesn’t have hers!” She stomped on the ground “Yeah but Ophelia's older she knows how to swim” you explained as you coaxed her over to stand between you knees “I can swim too! No! I don’t wanna!” She ripped her arm away from you as you held it “Baby look a bunch of the other ones are wearing them” you pointed over at the other parents putting arm puffs on their own kids, Eddie stood nearby lathering sunscreen on your eldest. “Fine!” She whined as she let you pull one up her forearm “Be good and you’ll get an ice cream later” you grinned as her face broke out into a toothy smile “Ok!” She happily accepted her fate and let you put the other arm puff on her.

Argyle and Eden excitedly signed up for chaperoning the kids as well as Robin and a cautious Vickie, Lukas, Mike, Dustin and Suzie joining in as they set off with the kids for a waterslide, Steve and Eddie telling them they would catch up with them.

You, Nancy, Simone, Tracy, her daughter Ariana, El, Max and Charlotte all huddled together on the beach chairs, lounging as you looked over the waterpark. Will and Winter walked off to get some fancy waterpark drinks that caught their eye as Eddie, Steve, Luke, Gareth and Jeff looked over the map of the waterpark.

“Oh what a beautiful day!” Nancy smiled brightly as she sat down with baby Dustin in her lap, Simone undid her beach wrap and sat down in a cheeky black bathing suit with straps lining up to her hips, halter top neckline with an open back. “Oh it is hot!” she commented as a few of the other girls cheered at her. “We really doing bathing suits?” Charlotte asked cautiously “Oh come on girls we don't know these people who cares?” Simone smiled brightly as she took her sunglasses off and dropped them onto her wrap on the ground, “Yeah you're right who cares? I've been working on this six pack all spring!” Charlotte pulled her cover up off, thrusting her pregnant belly for show under her punch pink pregnancy dress bathing suit “Yeah baby got front!” she laughed as the girls cheered her on, “Come on Y/N its your turn to strip!” she grinned as she sat back down “Oh no I don't know” you shyed away.

The swimsuit you were wearing today was not one you were extremely comfortable in, it had been a gift from your friend and you brought it with you just in case, but your bikini had been haphazardly shoved into a ball in your room out of sight and out of mind and therefore not washed deeming it unwearable as it began to smell. This one was a blood red one piece instead, the hem was high on your hips and practically a thong at the back, low cut in the back and round cups pushing your tits together above an upside down triangle showcasing some skin and the undersides of your boobs. “Oh come on! Like Simone said no one cares!” Nancy grinned as she clapped, the others joining in and clapping along. “Oh ok!” they cheered as you stood up and made a show of dropping your towel and filing it onto your chair, even going as far as a little spin.

Not far away Gareth whistled, causing the group of guys bent over the map to look up, Eddie with his back to you asked “What?” following Gareth's eyes, turning around to see you throwing your towel away and spinning around. He swallowed. Have I seen that before? I don't think so, is it new? his eyes scanned your body, cheeky thong tucked between your ass cheeks, tits pushed together round. “You sure you still set on this marriage thing? Cuz if not I’ll happily take her off your hands. Get her on her knees for me.” Eddie turned back around to see Gareth grinning.

“Alright that's enough” Eddie lunged “No!” Gareth screeched as he ducked and took off towards you all, scuttling between plastic lounge chairs to stand behind yours which you now occupied. Eddie stopped by your feet as Gareth hopped from side to side “What’s going on?” you asked confused, other girls chiming in as Eddie matched Gareth's movements “If you say one more word I will personally see to it that you're six feet under by the end of the day” Eddie gritted through his teeth. “Eddie!” you shouted, shocked at his words.

Gareth suddenly became bold “Nah you're too much of a softy” he grinned as he stilled and leaned over the back of your chair, making a show of peeping down you to look at your tits “HEY! Stop looking at my wife!” he shouted, making you turn in confusion to look up at Gareth who quickly disappeared out of view as he ran again. Eddie followed him shouting “You wanna see how much of a softy I am?!” and just like that both of them were out of sight.

You turned back to the rest “What was that?” they all shrugged telling you how they had no clue, you sighed and stood up walking over to Steve. “Can you tell me what's going on?” you crossed your arms, sweet Steve looking you directly into the eye as he awkwardly murmured “Uh Gareth said some things that upset Eddie so” he shrugged “What did he say?” you frowned “Uh you don't wanna know” Steve brought a hand up to rub at his stubble. Rolling your eyes you walked off in search of Eddie, who was now running through a children's pool.

“Eddie!” you shouted sternly causing him to stop in his tracks and turn to you “Come here” you stated frustrated. Eddie turned to Gareth who also stood frozen, back to you, to Gareth and finally back to you. He sighed and trudged towards you.

“What the hell is going on?” you crossed your arms again, watching as Gareth faking nonchalance walked off behind him. “Gareth uh was just annoying me” he brought a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck “So you chase him?” you inquired “Well yeah” Eddie turned to give Gareth an angry glare as he neared the group again. He set his gaze back onto you, your facial expression telling him that that wasn't an answer and urging him to explain “Ugh, he, he just kept saying some things, and I told him to stop and he still didn't” he set his hands onto your hips as he looked down on you.

“What stuff?” you asked exasperated, Eddie opened his mouth “And don’t tell me I don’t want to know” you held a finger up to him, his mouth closed again, you could see his brain working to think of something to say “Just, well some things about your body” your face softened into scared hurt, Eddie understood instantly that you though Gareth had been making fun of you, your size, but he didnt know how to explain “Fuck sake, he kept saying how he was gonna” he closed his eyes annoyed “Fuck you and shit” he breathed.

The snort that left your throat caused him to open them again “Baby, just because he says that doesn't mean it's gonna happen” you placed a soft hand on his cheek. Immediately his mind brought up Greg, stupid fucking Greg who had him doubting himself. -doesn’t mean it's gonna happen, doesn’t mean it's gonna happen, doesn’t mean it's gonna happen. He softened against your touch, nothing was going to happen, not with Greg, not with Gareth, not with anybody. “I know” he sighed, more of an admittance to himself “I just don't like him talking to you about that” he continued as he stepped closer to you, leaning further into your touch “Yeah well he's a pig, but it's just harmless stupid jokes baby” you leant up on your toes to give him a kiss.

“I’m only for you remember” you held your hand up to him, wiggling your fingers up to show off your engagement ring and wedding band.

Eddie hummed, why was he ever worried? You were his, you were married to him, had his babies, you’d been with him since you were 16 and him 17 for god's sake. Maybe it was the time spent together that had him worrying you had gotten bored of him, but no, it was the time together that only made the two of you stronger. You’d always been attached at the hip, stuck to each other like glue since his first senior year. Yeah you had your rough patches but you always found your way back to each other in the end.

Taking your hand and placing a kiss to the back of it before kissing your lips. “Now come on, you can buy me a gelato cuz it's too damn hot out here” you grinned as you took his hand. “Mm know something that's hotter” he snapped the elastic at your hip against your skin as he captured your lips in a kiss again.

Rejoining the group you stood with Eddie behind you, whose hands wrapped around your waist as his chin dropped to your shoulder. “Gareth, you're disgusting” you sneered “Anybody want ice cream?” you grinned to the rest, Eddie snorted behind you as the rest laughed. Soon enough you were back in your lounge chair leaning onto Eddie's chest as you sat between his thighs, happily eating your gelato while talking to Tracy, Ariana and Max.

You had so much fun going on slides with Eddie and the kids, throwing Roxette around in the water, your two girls fighting to get the other off each parents shoulders, slurping on ice cream, chatting with everyone and it wasn't as hard as you'd all though getting each kid into their respective car and away from the fun, all exhausted from the day and ready to go home. Dinner had been munching on whatever snacks there were around the house as kids were put to bed by nightfall.

“Damn forgot to brush my teeth” Eddie sighed as he walked into the bedroom with a towel low on his hips, tattoos on display under the same gold light Eddie had seen you in. “Ok well I’m dying for a shower so you're gonna have to do that while I’m in there” you told him as you brushed past him in a throw over beach dress, bathing suit still on. You didn't see Eddie grin behind your back as you clutched your toiletry bag on your way down the hall, quickly snapping up his things before following you.

“Oh I don't mind” he breathed as he caught up to you, you turned, rolling your eyes at him playfully as you pushed open the door, locking it after letting Eddie through, “Think I can join you?” he grinned down at you as the hand not clutching his toothbrush and toothpaste came to rest on your hip “Pretty sure you just showered baby” you smiled as you pulled away from him, pulling your dress over your head as Eddie flung his things into the sink. “Mm can’t be too clean sweetheart” he smirked as he crowded you from behind. “I’ll let you join me if you just think about this first” you turned around “You really wanna have sex for the first time in a shower in a home that's not even ours?” you began pulling the straps of your bathing suit down.

Eddie looked off into the distance thinking it over “No you're right” he sighed “Wait wait wait, you're saying we're gonna have sex?” His eyes found you eagerly as you stripped of your bathing suit and stepped into the shower, looking back with a cheeky smirk. Eddie groaned and fell back against the sink as you turned the water off. Fuck… YES! It was happening! It was really fucking happening!

You pulled the shower curtain closed, putting you out of view as Eddie turned and began brushing his teeth. He sat down on the toilet lid waiting for you to finish and it felt like the time droned on forever, even though it was just 10 minutes. His head perked up excitedly as you stepped out, reaching for your folded towel on the counter and wrapping yourself up in it. “Ugh fuck you’re so sexy” Eddie breathed against your ear as he wrapped around you from behind, you giggled as you picked up your stuff and unlocked the door. Walking slowly down the hall Eddie pressed his painfully hard cock against you, the evidence of the daydreaming he had been doing while you were in the shower.

“Can't wait to get my hands on you” he whispered as you made your way down the hall. Eddie wasted absolutely no time as you got to your room, pulling the towel off you and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes roaming the various ink splatters littered over your body, shining oh so beautifully in the dim light of the room, soaking in every inch of your undeniably perfect body. “Funny I’m usually the loud one but I have a sneaking suspicion you might beat me to it this time” you grinned as you let his towel fall to the floor. “Oh do you now?” his hands went down to grab a handful of your ass “Mhm you're gonna have to be quiet” you whispered as he captured your lips in a kiss.

Blindly he led you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the mattress, falling onto it, instinctively spreading your legs to make room for Eddie. “Fuck” he made an audible groan as his hard cock came in contact with you slick wet folds, pressing into you. “Ugh fuck I’m not gonna last long baby” he breathed as he broke apart from you “Would be surprised if you did” you panted as Eddies lips began kissing down your jaw and throat, lingering on occasion to suck harsh bruises into your skin, more than on occasion, he seemed to be doing it with every kiss.

You let out a breathless moan as his lips wrapped around your pebbled nipple, sucking lightly as his hand came up to give similar attention to the other. Two metal balls cold on his muscle as he licked at your pierced nips. He didn’t hover there long though, he continued his descent kissing down your body till he slid to his knees on the floor, hands wrapping strong around your hips to pull you to the edge as he kissed your things.

“Ughhhh fuck I’ve missed this” he groaned as he spread your folds “Missed sex or missed staring at my pussy?” You grinned down at him as you sat up on your elbows, he looked up at you mischievously “Both” and without warning he dove in, licking a broad strip from your hole up to your clit. Your head fell back as a moan ripped through you, you know Eddie had taken to pleasuring himself but above not doing anything with Eddie you weren’t doing anything alone, the feeling of Eddie's warm tongue rolling through you a second time was almost overwhelming.

A third long lick before he focused on your clit, shorter even licks right in the nub had you gripping the sheets. His lips wrapped around you, sucking hard as his tongue flicked up and down, your hand came to snake between his damp curls and tug harshly causing Eddie to groan as he went faster.

“Shit baby, we- we gotta be quiet” you forced out a strained whisper between pants as the vice grip on Eddie's roots tightened, all Eddie did was hum in response as one of the hands snaked around the backs of your thighs holding you to him lifted. The hand that had previously been gripping onto the bed sheets for purchase whipped away to hold a tight fist against your lips, biting down hard on your knuckles as you felt a long thick finger slip easily into you.

“Mm fuck” you whined against it as he pushed a second in, pumping in and out furiously as his tongue flicked at an angry pace. Just as you were about to open your mouth to say something a harsh knock sounded at the door. Startling both you and Eddie as he pulled his mouth off you, head dropping down to rest his head on your mound “You gotta be fucking kidding me” he gritted through his teeth.

You took a deep sigh as you slackened your grip on his hair, other hand coming down to the sheets to half push yourself up. “Hang on baby, mommy’ll be right there” you called strained to the door as Eddie knocked his head on your mound, the hair tickling his forehead, fingers still deep inside you. “Uh it’s just me, Steve” a deep voice sounded from the other side.

“Oh” you fell back down on the bed, “Uh yeah?” you managed to even out your voice as you spoke, “No no don’t come in!” You shouted as you saw the doorknob turn, hand held out in the direction of the door as if to stop him. You sighed as it flung back into place “Uh I was just looking for Eddie” he tried keeping his voice down as he called through the door “What do you want?” Eddie hollered as he raised his head, irritation dripping from his voice “I was just gonna talk to you about uh my car, we talked about it earlier”

“Yeah yeah I’ll take a look at it tomorrow” he set his chin pushing down onto the sparse hair on your mound again as he looked over to the door Aalright great I was just-“ “Steve I’ll be knuckle deep in your car tomorrow right know I’m knuckle deep in something else” he called, the offended gasp you let out as you scolded him “Edward!” with a light slap to the back of his head only had him grinning up at you smug. “Haha alright dude see ya tomorrow” Steve laughed on the other side as he heard the smack “Ok BYE Steve!” Eddie almost shouted.

You both listened intently as you heard heavy footsteps lead away from the door “Eddie rea- ooooh shit” you broke off as Eddie set his lips back onto you, pumping his fingers in and out of you equally as fast if not faster than he had before, resuming his tackle on your clit as if nothing had happened.

With each pump he worked faster and faster until his hand was working at an angry pace to get you to the edge, your hand pulled harder at his hair as you writhed beneath him turning to sink your teeth into the comforter. You whined as you felt that familiar feeling boil in your core, only egging Eddie on as he sucked harder.

“Fuck I’m-I’m c-close” you whined as your hips inched away from him, Eddies fingers sinking into your skin in a bruising grip and forcing you back to him “Shit shit shit!” was all the warning as a spray of warm liquid hit him in the face, causing him to reel back. Watching in awe as you drenched his neck, chest and hand into a furious squirt.

Within seconds it slowed to a stop as well as Eddie's fingers as he watched you panting heavily in front of him. Eyes bulging he watched as the hand that had previously ripped away from his hair to grip the sheets and fall slack next to you as you sunk into the mattress panting heavily. “Holy fuck” he breathed as he himself panted, getting to his feet and looming over you, hand falling out to keep him raised off you as his other held your shoulder gently, smoothing over your skin as he went to cup your cheek, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss, pausing your panting to kiss him back.

The skin previously dried from his shower now soaking pressing against you as he fell onto you, both hands coming up to hold you in place as he pulled you to him, head lifting from the bed to meet him. The long kiss broke apart and you fell back onto the bed, breathing slowing as you gathered yourself.

“Scootch up baby” Eddie whispered as he pushed himself off you “Hm?” You hummed as you opened your eyes, hands pushing into the patterned throw as you pushed yourself off the foot of the bed and up to land against the pillows. Eddie crawled up the bed, hand pushing softly to part your knees and make room for him.

Finally your daze melted away as you looked up to find Eddie on his calves, hand wrapped around his throbbing cock as he stared down at you in awe, slowly pumping himself, each stroke revealing his angry red tip dribbling a hefty amount of precum.

You chuckled breathlessly “Don’t want me to return the favour?” Eddie shook his head furiously as he toppled over to rest on top of you “Uh uh” he breathed and without warning lined himself up with you thrusting himself into the hilt. He let out a loud groan while you gasped in surprise. “Aaahahahuuuuh fuck” he complained breathlessly as the hand on his cock slithered up to grab at your hip.

“Shiiit feel so good baby” his breath fanned against your ear as he buried his face in your shoulder, setting a slow pace of his hips, lips attaching back to your neck. The low whine of your throat only made Eddie speed his hips up “Baby, s-s’too big” Eddie laughed as you whined “Mm been a while?” he pulls his face out of the crook of your neck to grin down at you. As you roll your eyes Eddie plants both of his hands just below your armpits, leaning down to kiss you as he places one hard thrust into your hips, the head of his cock hitting that spot inside you he liked to call the danger zone for some stupid reason, actually the reason being that it either caused you incredibly pleasure, or incredible pain depending on what position you were in. This particular position was the former, and it showed as you moaned loudly against him.

Braking off the kiss he moved a hand to plaster over your mouth as he thrusted another hard thrust, somehow managing to hit even deeper inside you, his head nuzzling back into the crook of your neck to leave bruises all along the expanse of your throat. Muffling the second loud moan as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, mouth dropping in pure pleasure. Eddie hummed in agreement as he thrusted again “Mhm yeah thats the spot, fuck” he was now setting a slow pace of hard thrusts, each time inching deeper inside you as your hands pulled angrily at the roots of his locks.

Your left hand moved from the grip near his neck to circle around his arm, fingers pressing harshly into the skin of his shoulder, nails digging in to leave small crescent moons into the inked slightly tanned skin. The same tattoo which had Eddie moaning in something other than pleasure as he first lay down on his back after a five hour appointment, complaining that he had to lay on his stomach till it healed.

Now as you touched the ink Eddie only groaned as your nails scratched at his shoulder blades, hard thrust transitioning to quick smacks of his hips against yours, skin slapping against skin. That would have been the only sound apart from moans that would have been heard if it weren't for “Eddie the bed” you panted as the old wood and springs began squeaking with each of Eddie's movements. “You know how many beds I had to listen to rattling last night?” he pulled away from his attack on your reddening neck to stare down at you, panting between each word “Yeah it's our turn” he dove back in to suck hard at your collarbone.

His hips were now at a furious pace, how he hadn't cum already he had absolutely no clue but somehow he had managed to hold off. That was until he felt your walls squeeze tightly around him, the burning in his belly he’d been ignoring became reality all too quickly. Hips working faster as he pulled off your collar to look back at you, hand still collapsed over your mouth, neck craned back into the pillow to match your eyes practically looking at the back wall. “Fuck ba- shit” he broke off in a groan as you squeezed harder around him “S-Sweetheart, n-not gonna last loOoong!” he tried to whisper but failed miserably as your ankles locked behind him pressing him further into you.

Bed squeaking, skin slapping, throats groaning and moaning in blinding pleasure echoed all around the room as Eddie's movement stopped, bottoming out inside you in a loud groan as hot spurts of cum painted your walls.

For minutes both of you just lay panting, a jumble of limbs as both of you tried to catch your breath. It was nice, lying tangled up with Eddie, naked and sweaty, totally counteracting your shower but it was nice, until it got too hot. You pushed Eddie off you, a reluctant grunt sounding from the back of his throat as he pulled out “Where you going?” he whispered as he felt a dip in the bed next to him while he lay eyes closed on his back. “Gonna open a window it's boiling in here” you stepped cautiously over the floorboards as you opened the old window, sighing as cool night air hit your skin. You looked back to see Eddie fucked out and spent with his eyes still closed on the bed and awkwardly picked up one of the towels discarded on the floor and whipped yourself off.

Eddie peeked his eyes open as he saw you walk over to the duffle bags, dropping both towels on the bench “You-you getting dressed?” there was a hint of nervousness to his voice as he sat up, as if the prospect of you putting clothes on was like you closing yourself off again. “Relax I’m just putting on some underwear” you chuckled as you fished out a pair of forest green brazilians and pulled them over your legs.

Eddie fell back against the bed again, laughing as he felt a pair of clean boxers hit his face. Pulling them on he hopped back onto the bed with a wide grin, beaming at you like a child receiving a bag of candy or their favourite toy. “What's got you so happy?” you chuckle as you nestle up to him, pushing his hands away as he was about to wrap them around you, turning to lay on your side and rest your head on his chest instead of his face buried in your shoulder.

“Oh you know my stock shares went up” his joke earned a laugh as he held your waist and trailed his fingers up and down your arm. The giggle you let out had his smile cracking wider and his arms holding you to him tighter. “Yup I stiiill got it” he smirked as you slapped his chest lightly.

For once it seemed neither of you were woken by any distractions, Eddie roused slowly face mushed against your hair as he pulled back to see that during the night the both of you must have moved and he was now back to spooning you just like every other night. As the numb feeling of sleep tingled away he squeezed his fingers to find his hand cupping your breast. He chuckled as he heard the low whine from your throat, the sound jogging his memory.

Oh fuck, hed gotten to touch you, fuck you, even made you squirt! That wasn't even something normal when you were having sex on a regular basis. Memories of being inside you, a tangle of legs, you pulling at his hair, sucking at your neck, all swam to the forefront of his mind. Leaning over he found himself stunned by the amount of deep purple and brown hickies that littered your skin, he couldn't even count them on his fingers Jesus Christ. Dark marks going all the way from just below your jaw all the way down to an inch or so away from your nipples, when did he even have time to do all that?

He was torn from his thoughts as you stirred, turning in his grasp to lay on your back, eyes slowly opening to see Eddie hovering above you, dopey grin painting his face. Your hands went up to the hem of the comforter when you frowned, lifting it up you peeked at what was hidden, frown dissipating to realisation as you whispered an “Oh right” which had Eddie snorting and dropping his forehead on to yours.

“Mm morning handsome” you hummed as his lips pulled away from a deep passionate kiss “Morning beautiful” he croaked, head pulling back in shock “Beautiful” he croaked again, voice strained, he cleared his throat “Beautiful, there we go” he laughed as you giggled, those sweet noises once again having his heart doing flips in his chest.

“So beach day again or you wanna do something else? Dustin mentioned a hike” Eddie rolled off you to lie on his back as you propped yourself up on an elbow next to you “Hmm well I am torn, can either watch you hopp around in that sad little excuse for a bathing suit you wore yesterday or stare at you ass in those bike shorts, it really is a tough decision” he grinned down at you, snorting you told him “Well my regular bikini is all dry now so don't worry you don't have to watch me hopp around in that other one” Eddie shrugged “Probably for the best, not easy hiding a boner in swim trunks, trust me” he widened his eyes.

Ophelia and Roxette strolled in not much later to find Eddie getting dressed as you had wandered off to the bathroom.

“Why are you wearing a hoodie? It's like 90° outside” Lucas threw his hands out as he plopped down next to you on the couch, everyone eating an assortment of fruit, cereal and toast. Eddie snorted from the other side of the table which had both of you turning towards him, Lucas with a confused frown and you with a warning glare “I’m just cold” you explained weakly “How on earth are you cold?” Mike sat down on the arm of the chair El was occupying. “Uh I just am?” “Oh come on, just take it off” Mike shrugged.

“I-I’d rather not” you tried taking a bite of your toast to signal the end of the conversation, “Yeah she's gotta hide those massive hickies” Gareth sauntered over to hang of the back of Eddie's armchair taking an animalistic bit of a baconstrip “Not doing a good job by the way” you pulled the hood up further around your neck as the people around the living room area all turned to you. “Whats a hickey?” Jonathan's son Charlie piped up “Oh it's like a-” “Gareth” you turned to him to glare at him too who held his hands up in defeat “It's just a bruise sweetie, like when you fall and hurt yourself” Charlotte waddled over to pat her son on the head, everyone on the couch scooching up to make room for the pregnant lady.

“Eh no one cares babes just take your hoodie off, you must be boiling” Charlotte smiled happily as she waved you off next to you, sighing you set your plate down and pulled the hoodie over your head, “Jesus christ!” the room erupted in laughter as near 20 hickeys in a steady flow down to the hem of your tanktop was revealed. You forced a straight tight lipped smile and gestured your hands out. Gareth slapped Eddie on his shoulder as he laughed “Didn’t know you had it in ya big guy” chuckling he stood up straight behind him “Mm thanks” Eddie grumbled as he finished the rest of his cereal.

“Seriously what did you guys do yesterday?” Mike laughed, “Didn't you hear them?” Gareth imitated a high pitched version of a bed squeaking as you curled in on yourself. Roxette hurried over and climbed into you lap as she laughed “What is uncle Gareth doing?” the supposed uncle in question was in the midst of thrusting his hips back and forth, thankfully not making any lude imitations of moans “He's just being silly” you explained as you wrapped your arms around her. “Oh god” you sighed amused as Charlie and Lucas's son Billy copied Gareth's movements “Would you please refrain from teaching my kid that stuff? He’s four” Charlotte complained as she grabbed her son by the arm and yanked him to her “Yeah dude stop, no one wants to see that shit” Lucas chimed in.

Soon enough almost everyone was outside gathered by the beach, save from Charlotte who went inside to rest, Jonathan following her and trusting Dustin to keep an eye on his kids. Blankets and towels were spread out in the sand and grass as the same group from the first day lounged on the chairs now back in their place from bonfire night. Kids splashed in the water as well as adults, some lying tanning in the sun or forcing sunscreen onto stroppy children.

Roxette and Ophelia ran up jumping excitedly as you pulled your shorts down to tan, begging you to come jump off the jetty with them. After some faux complaining and getting a rise out of Roxy you agreed, laughing as they ran off in front of you. Walking past Eddie caught his attention immediately, the rim of the beer bottle he was holding falling away from his lips as it seemed that the world stopped around him and watching you move in slow motion. Teeth showing in a happy laugh, fingers wrapped around the hem on each side of your bikini bottoms, securing them to your hips, thick thighs rubbing against each other with each step, tits in a soft bounce from your movements. Faded ink tattoos mixed with fresher ones glittering in the sunlight as it sat high up in the sky. The quick one second of a flash of a smile towards him was the equivalent of an hour as you turned and continued walking.

The laughter and chatter died around him as if he was submerged under water simply listening to the sounds of the ocean. In the back of his mind he thought he may have cooled down with his rapid heart beat and tensing in his thighs whenever he was around you in anything close to the line of modesty after you’d finally had sex, but no. If anything his heart was beating even faster than it had before in his life, not even the muffling of his chest could hide the beats from sounding out around him, much less hide the feeling of his swim shorts tightening around him.

Sitting up straight from his wide legged slackened position he stared in awe at the plush thickness of your thighs, to your concealed mound up to the soft rolls of your tummy, slight jiggle of the fat around your arms and bounce of your tits, and Oh. My. God. As he zoned in on the particular area which consumed his mind most of the time he saw those faint outlines of hearts, pressing against the lavender fabric, had it not been for the sun beating down on you he most definitely would have seen the shape of your hardened nipples framed so perfectly by those little diamond encrusted silver hearts.

Since this morning you had switched your nipple piercings, at some point, without his knowledge, and he knew you knew those little hearts were his absolute favourite of all the body modifications you had. She’s put those on for me. The hearts disappeared out of his view as you veered off to the small wooden dock, the globes of your ass swaying from side to side with every step you took, following your girls down as they desperately jumped up and down in waiting for you.

Just as quick as the moment came, it was gone, as he watched you disappear under the surface of the water, cannonballing in with a large splash, Roxette eagerly on your tail, copying you and cannonballing in only a few inches away from your face. You laughed as you splashed her back, clapping as Ophelia too resurfaced.

“Yo you listening to me?” Gareth slapped Eddie's arm in an attempt to regain his attention, not having noticed you walking by, he turned away from the small dots of your heads floating in the distance. “Hm? Oh right Zander yeah what about him?” Gareth repeated his comment about how their boss at the auto shop had slipped up with a recent purchase that was vital in the repair of a snazzy Rolls Royce he had been working on.

Eddie's attention drifted way off from the conversation again as he saw you swim up to the ladder and pull yourself up. Water dripping off your body as you shoved your hair out of your face. Time slowed again as you dipped your fingers into the hem of your bottoms, pulling at the fabric to lay back properly over your ass from the water forcing them up to nestle between your cheeks as you jumped into the lake. The action wasn’t graceful, in fact it was far from it, but from the edge of the beach where Eddie sat currently having an out of world experience it was the sexiest, hottest thing he had ever witnessed you doing. Even though he couldn't see it he just knew the skin of your ass would jiggle as the elastic snapped back against it.

“Seriously dude!” This time Gareth shoved him, almost spilling the beer in the bottle over his lap, most definitely making the little situation with the raging boner straining against the mesh a lot worse had it gone further than sloshing around the neck.

Somehow he managed to regain focus and partake in a conversation which mostly consisted of slagging his boss off, coupled with a few swares which had several moms turning their heads in a glare. And somehow he managed to calm down and let his mind focus on other things as his cock slowly softened beneath the black and blue fabric.

“So Edward Munson” Steve grinned as he walked over the sand and slapped his friend on the shoulder “Don't let Nancy hear your wife calling you that, she'll start walking around calling me Stephen” he grimaced as Eddie turned from Gareth chuckling at his comment. “Seems something you did was successful” he walked over and sank down into the chair Gareth previously occupied, walking off to answer Jeff calling him over.

“Seems so” Eddie raised his bottle in a mock cheer as Steve uncapped his own “Seriously dude you gotta tell me how the fuck you manage to hold out that long” he leaned in, deepening his voice so no one could overhear. “What hold out for six months? a hellofalot of polaroids and dirty magazines and taking alleged showers” Eddie’s smirk matched Steves as he chuckled, Steve let out a loud obnoxious snort “No, bro, you're like 40 years old-” “41” Eddie grimaced as he cut him off “Right well 41, I’ve never in my life heard a bed make so much noise, you were going at it for like 30 minutes with constant eek eek eek” it was Eddies turn to snort now as Steve copied Gareth's form of imitating the bed squeaking.

“Do 50 hour weeks at an auto repair shop and maybe you'll catch up to me” Steve laughed as he spread his legs and sunk further into the wood. Ophelia ran up dripping cold water all over him as she hung off the armrest of his chair “What's up rugrat?” Eddie ruffled her already tousled and drenched hair “Dad wanna come play princess with me, Mercy, Louise and Emma? Roxette doesn't want to, says it's for girls. Even though she is one which I don't understand” Ophelia mumbled the last sentence as a low rumble left Eddies chest in the form of a deep chuckle “Not right now sweetheart, daddys talking to Steve right now but maybe later” he offered an apologetic smile towards his daughter. Even though he loved her, he wasn't quite fond of having her smear her moms makeup on his face as he wore a blanket for a dress, he was banished from wearing your dresses since he almost flashed Roxette while jumping on the couch.

“Okeeey” Ophelia grumbled and ran off to join Steve and Jonathans daughters who were already pulling at Charlottes arms. His gaze turned from his eldest to find you stepping off the jetty and making your way through the sand towards him. It was almost uncharacteristic how quickly he switched from trying not to upset his daughter to hungrily watch you in motion. Sure he drifted off and lost focus sometimes, ok a lot, but this wasn't something normal for him, he didn't even hear as Steve barked out a laugh beside him at the change in demeanour, before he even got a chance to let his eyes drift up and down your body you were stood in front of him, lips moving as you talked but not a single word registering to him.

He straightened his back and fought with himself as he desperately tried not to let his eyes roam your body and instead look into your eyes giving you his full attention “Huh sorry what?” Steve barked another laugh beside him, you giggled “I just said hi” you reached over behind him to grab your towel on the back of his chair, “Oh hi” Eddie breathed as your tits hovered two inches away from his nose, suddenly all the air had left the sphere around earth and he had to sputter to find his breath.

A pressing matter swam to the front of his mind and ripped him out of his trance “Where's Rocky?” he whipped his head around to look behind you and scan the beach “She’s inside, Arianas showing her the wonders of The Notorious B.I.G” you ran the towel over your head, squeezing the water out of your hair “Great first Tupac now B.I.G, you know I really had hope for her, she was listening to Mötley Crue and everything” the brown bottle raised to his lips as he took a sip of the now luke warm beer, he scrunched his face up in disgust and propped the drink into the sand.

“Hah relax babe, she still obsessed with Mötley Crue, not that I’m very happy about it, the day she starts fangirling over them is the day I divorce you” Eddie scrunched his face up again, soft lines forming on his nose as his brows furrowed “Im kidding!” you held your hands up. With your towel in your hand and arms out by your sides Eddie was fighting for dear life to keep eye contact with you, if only he had his sunglasses on.

“Oh yo the car” Steve cut into the admittedly mundane but to Eddie, it was a heart squeezing conversation with his wife “Oh right!” Eddie made to stand up as you moved out of the way, eagerly you took his place as the seat next to you vacated with Steve standing to join him.

It was your turn to oggle now.

For the first time since December, watching Eddie pull at the neck of his threadbare t-shirt was exhilarating. Unbeknownst to you you were falling into the exact same trance Eddie had been, where the world fell silent and time stopped. Your eyes widened as you saw the sun bleached fabric float over his skin, inch by inch revealing that faint happy trail and that toned v-line pointed down like an arrow towards the price you were now dying to win over. Toned abs revealed themselves slowly next to a set of sleek inked hips, twigs and vines littered with roses winding down the v-line, roses matching the ones that sat under your right breast, peeking out from under your bra. A demon head and a spider showed on his left peck, hovering above a large majestic dragon protecting its four ribbed eggs, each symbolising a different person he admired and loved deeply, a constant reminder that he never wanted to lose them. Ophelia, Roxette, Wayne and you.

Tattoo sleeves windled from his shoulders down to his wrists, puppet masters, bats, more dragons, daggers, dice and so much more all woven perfectly together resting under the surface of the soon to be golden brown skin. Formerly pale now tanning shining under the brightness of the sky, reflection of the water sparkling at his sides.

It was your turn to not register a word as Eddie spoke “We’re just gonna go have a look at Steve’s car, I’ll be back in a bit” you felt your neck twist as you followed the collections of tattoos on chiselled muscles past you where a hand dropped his shirt onto the arm of the chair and back behind you, leaning in your chair and twisting uncomfortably to follow the wide spread wings connecting to a female form, organs on show and hands displayed to its side, a tribute to his musical hero and favourite album In Utero by Nirvana.

You felt like a teenager caught staring at her crush as you whipped around to look back at the beach when both Steve and Eddie turned to look back at you.

“Dude she was totally checking you out?” Steve slapped him on his chest as they tread through the grass “What? Who?” Eddie turned to see you quickly pull back in your chair “Who do you think idiot?”.

Part 2!

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boizandgurlzinthehouse · 10 months

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃-𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒.

pairing: coriolanus snow x toxic!fem!reader

summary: someone always throw a spanner in her works, to achieve her biggest dream —being coriolanus’ lover, wife and claiming power. luckily, y/n is not on the loser side when it comes to playing.

trigger warnings (overall): mastermind!reader, toxic!reader (for real, she’s doing nasty things), reader’s family is a bit fucked up, reader is obsessed with coriolanus snow, lying, swearing, blood, violence, killing people, hunger games stuff, i just love volumnia gaul, reader hates lucy gray and everybody who’s around coriolanus, mental health problems mentioned such as psychotism, domestic violence mentioned, drugs, mention of sexual fantasies.

trigger warnings (in this part): toxic!reader, reader meets lucy gray for the first time, reader hates arachne, DEATH, blood, cruelty against people, reader is obsessed with coriolanus snow, lying, swearing, unhealthy body image, drugs, SMUT, p in v, fingering, poorly written smut.

prologue. part 1. part 2.

y/n squirmed on the inside.

it was strange, but not unusual. y/n always squirmed when she went to the zoo, seeing animals in locked cages was not her kind of pleasure. it didn’t help that the media was there too, so she had to play nice in front of everyone. probably she could never warn lucy gray, not to mention that in front of coriolanus. if she ever said a word about executing her from the picture in any sort of ways, lucy gray was surely the tricky bitch who would spill it to him. and that was the last thing she needed. y/n sighed, blinking a couple of times before she turned to the grid of the cage the tributes were held –being nice to not to get unveiled was truly a tiring thing. but at least, lucy gray wasn’t the one who got to go to dinner with coriolanus. no, not on her watch.

“are you feeling okay, y/n?” did she look not okay? that can’t be possible. even if her uterus were eating her up and her corset tried to pierce her ribcage, y/n’s rule that she should never look like a damsel in distress, she just shook her head.

“everything’s fine, corio. will you introduce me to lucy gray?”

so here we go.

safe to say, lucy gray was pretty good looking. y/n had to admit this, she could state anything about anybody, but being pretty was really objective, based on the standards. of course, not as good- and well-looking as someone from the capitol, anyone could always judge if a person was from the capitol or one of the districts. even people from the first and second district were much more… chav. lucy gray was skinny, underfed and messy, how could she ever compare with y/n? nevertheless, she had to make sure that lucy gray doesn’t think of herself as though she believed she was. it was important for het to not become a main character in her game. y/n saw the whole world as a big, never-ending set of games, because it was, depending on how seriously people took it. because in the world, there were many games. games about money, about power, about life and death, and about control. and lucy gray wasn’t the one who had connections. but now wasn’t the time to beef, if lucy gray blows off at the games, coriolanus will never get the plinth-prize, and y/n didn’t had that much time and space to find out something for that, too. so lucy gray had to survive. y/n just had to make sure that the end justifies the means, and she was nothing but a tool to get money and power.

sejanus was already showing food for marcus. shit, sejanus… y/n’s mind was bugging, she still didn’t know what to do with him. if her game was a table of chess and coriolanus was the rook on the table, then sejanus was the queen… or the king. he could take a simple checkmate on all of her moves, no matter what. yes, sejanus was following coriolanus with getting food to his tribute, but only one bad move from him was enough to screw up all of her plans. and sure, he had noble parents, and he could pull out his head from the hook, but not coriolanus. and against the fact with the two being good friends, blood was still thicker than water.

“lucy gray, this is my good friend, y/n y/l/n.” and his soon-to-be wife and lover.

“hello, y/n.” act casual, act natural. don’t talk about feeling sorry for fucking around the mayor’s daughter and her lover, this isn’t announced. never let them know you did research all night.

“hi, lucy gray. how are you feeling? probably… not so good because of this cage.”

“i’m pretty fine, thank you. just hungry a little bit.”

“oh, i brought you food. y/n and i thought about getting you food.”

“yes. you have to be strong for the games.” if you dare to die, i’m going to kill you myself. how could anybody do this small talk for so long? words didn’t came into her mouth, she wasn’t the type who could talk for hours about nothing. there were days when she was alone with the maids in the house, or upstairs, and she didn’t talk for days if nobody bothered her.

“thank you so much.” lucy gray whispered, taking the cookie, offering one to her. y/n looked at the cookie, then her. looking at the cameras, she shook her head. eating a cookie with a tribute? if somebody sees this, she will be treated equally as the other students, and she won't let it. she was now a working woman, one of the workers of volumnia gaul, what would she say if she saw this?

“oh, no… i can’t eat cookies. i just had breakfast.” she wasn't in the mood to eat cookies with this girl, watching how arachne played with her tribute was more interesting.

“you said you skipped breakfast because you slept in.” looking at coriolanus, y/n slapped herself in her mind. her bleeding days were killing her brain, and no medicine could make her concentrate enough.

“uhm, yeah, but i ate at work. really, we bought the cookies and the food for you, so–” what the fuck was with her? were the pills she took yesterday night too strong?

“y/n, did you eat or not?” coriolanus’ question and his worried face made her… satisfied. not because he was worrying about her, but because he was busy with her. y/n blinked up, shrugging her shoulders. thinking about he’s gonna be worried about her when they’re gonna be a couple, even pregnant, it was pure pleasure.

“it’s alright, corio. i will eat when i get home, and i will eat at night, on our date.” she whispered, audible enough to lucy gray. holding his hand, she hoped she reassured her. “really, it’s nothing. let’s… care about lucy gray, she’s your tribute.”

as coriolanus crouched down to her, y/n wanted to do the same, but lucretius flickerman was faster, approaching her with his loyal cameramen.

“...and what a surprise that we are seeing a true noble, a noble from the noble, y/n y/l/n! tell me, how are you here?” he asked, y/n tried not to look into the camera as he almost showed the microphone into her mouth.

“i just accompanied coriolanus and the others from the school. as well as they’re his friends and classmates, they’re my friends, too.”

“how cute! tell me y/n, if you could bet on one of the tributes, perhaps even supporting them, who would you choose?” tricky question, tricky question! if everybody sees this, hyping up coriolanus wasn’t a bad idea.

“i think… it’s a good question. some of them, such as marcus and lucy gray. i think they’re good. marcus seems strong, and lucy gray… she surely knows more than just singing.” she wanted to punch the cameramen, everybody could surely see how white her teeth were.

“it’s really interesting… also, we heard a rumor that you work with volumnia gaul now. is it interesting to see how the games improve?” trying not to furrow her eyebrows, y/n looked at lucretius.

“my work at dr. gaul and everything that happens there is strictly confidential. i can’t say anything about the games, but it’s gonna be really entertaining.”

“thank you so much, lady y/l/n! now, let’s see how–”

clunk! the sounds of iron and glass clashing catched the showman’s ears too, looking into the direction. y/n couldn’t decide to laugh or look terrified at the sight of the blood that was mounting from arachne’s neck. standing at the grid of the cage, she saw as coriolanus hurried to help arachne. he was still running to help her, a really, really good man… y/n knew why she loved him.

“what the hell happened?” lucy gray whispered to her, making her shake out from her state. looking at her, y/n clenched her jaw.

“i’m going there. stay away from that girl who stabbed her.”

stepping to the scene, y/n crouched down too, caring about not touching the soiled ground with her silk skirt, wondering about the color of the blood. a big pool, arachne’s life. one hand still around the bottle, she was smart enough to keep it in, but she couldn’t like with a broken bottle in her neck forever! sardonic slut, making jokes of everyone, licking up and kicking down. i know you talked about me when i wasn’t near, calling me a psycho, and that i was my parent’s pet and mentally disabled for being a private student. the truth is, i never could stand that perfidious snake-face of yours. how could you ever face the mirror in the morning without breaking it with your eyesight? without spitting on yourself?

“y/n, what are we gonna do?” coriolanus asked her. his hands were shaking, one at her neck. she brushed arachne’s hair, trying to patch up the blood with her handkerchief, wiping her eyes like she was crying. everybody was rushing from them and the cage, peacekeepers were surrounding them.

“i don’t know, dear… i am so sorry, arachne was such a good friend of yours…”

“somebody help, please!” he cried out, making her look away, to the exact point as one of the men shot the stabbing tribute girl in the stomach. well, at least lucy gray didn’t have to worry about her any longer. “what the fuck is happening, y/n?”

“i don’t know, i don’t know!” she knew exactly. just as the peacekeepers grabbed coriolanus’ and her arm to drag them away, y/n signed them to let her go. “i just… i just want to look at her, please, for the last time.”

“you only got one minute. your little friend stays here.”

stepping over arachne’s body, she lowered down to see the light gone from arachne’s eyes. as her hair covered her face, y/n tried to press down the smile as she thought about her list. look at you, arachne… mocking everybody, and now you became the prey? deep down, you wanted to die like this, didn’t you? as a victim. so everybody can forget how sordid you are. nobody will ever know the truth about what you did, playing with that filthy girl’s food, what did you think she will do? jump around and beg for you? now, everybody only can say how clever and beauty you were, how hard you tried to get the fucking plinth prize, cracking their hands as they look at each other at your funeral. nobody will ask why the girl stabbed you, thanks to the contrary of the capitol and the districts, but hey, that’s why we love being distinguished, isn’t it? and don’t worry, i’ll keep your secrets, and you don’t even have to thank me crane, because i am a good friend. a really good one.

reaching for her eyelids, y/n slowly pulled them down. she was never near a dead body, and the thought of it disgusted her a little bit. she wasn’t a killer, she was… a gamer. a really good one. the blood almost spilled on her shoes, how filthy.

turning back to coriolanus as they walked out, she leant her head on his shoulder. instantly thinking about the date, would it be morbid to kiss upon their dead friend’s corpse? arachne has nothing to do with this. well, she had nothing to do with this.

“are you okay, dear?” she asked from him, looking up to him.

“yes, it’s just… i still can’t perceive what happened. and you, are you okay?” coriolanus muttered as they sat down on one of the benches in the park. cars were honking, wheels clashing against the gravel; the ambulance arrived. a hearse could be better, but y/n couldn’t blame them. it was strange to see clemensia and arachne get out of the picture, they were sidekicks for too long.

“i am okay, thanks.”

“you just saw her dying, and went back, why did you do that?” looking at him, coriolanus shook his head. “i’m sorry y/n, i shouldn’t ask you that, it’s just… i was so terrified, maybe i am still right now.”

“i just… wanted to say goodbye. arachne was a little bit mocky all the time, but… she was a friend. a good one.” her sound was a little bit catatonic in her head, all the time she told a lie.

“you are right. sorry for asking this, really, i didn’t have the spirit to go back there.”

“don’t worry, corio. maybe she shouldn’t play with that girl… you know how cruel the games can be.”

“you are right, y/n. the games are stressful for everybody.” y/n nodded, reaching for his hand.

“do you have the stomach for tonight? i know this is horrible, but… maybe we can get each other into a better mood.”

looking at her, she tried to smile a little bit. not a too big, unnatural smile compared to the fact that somebody just died, and not even a poker face like she didn’t fucking care about what happened.

“of course i have the stomach, it would be my pleasure, y/n. i just have to go home to change.” coriolanus answered, making y/n truly, truly happy.

“it’s really good to hear.”

a death is one thing, but the future is another.

she had to make the move, arachne’s death could slow down things. hortensia pulled her hair a little bit, curling it with little clips, swirling her locks around heated sticks. this night had to be perfect, exactly because of what happened. running through her eyebrows with a clipper, she looked at the clock –she had still an hour, her clothes laid on her bed.

“you are gonna be so beautiful, miss y/l/n.” the maid praised her as she lined her eyebrows, spraying perfume on her wrists and behind her ears. morphia did the same when she was meeting timothé, and they were together, didn’t they? rubbing nacre powder over her eyelids, she was ready.

“could you pull my corset tighter, hortensia? please.” standing up, she held onto the pillar of her bed.

“are you sure, miss y/l/n? i’m afraid that–”

“i am sure, hortensia. we will be afraid if coriolanus snow won't like my appearance.”

it was painful. feeling her bowels sticking together, framed by her bones that dug into her stomach and lungs, but at least she looked desirable.

“are you feeling alright, miss y/l/n?”

“of course, i’m fine. thank you.” she muttered as the maid helped her pick up the clothes. a red dress, slightly slit up but not too long to look like a prostitute, a couple of black heels, not too high to fall in them. suddenly the door creaked, it was her mother. a glass of wine in her hand, she leaned on the doorframe, a silly smile on her face.

“look at my little girl, hortensia. isn’t she beautiful and adorable?” she asked, making the maid turn to her.

“she’s beautiful, lady y/l/n.”

“she already told me that, mommy.” y/n muttered, a little bit annoyed at the fact that her mother looked up and down on her like a piece of meat. sure, everybody always measured her like she was one, but her own family could at least have a little dignity for each other.

“it’s natural that you are stressed. is that a corset on you?” lorelei asked, placing down her cup to brush out the dress, the wrinkles on the waist area were long gone.

“thanks.” y/n responded.

“i was just as terrified as you before i met your father, i can tell you, y/n. but it went well, because the three of you are here, aren’t you?” she giggled, making y/n roll her eyes.

“don’t you have to watch the tv, mommy?” she turned to her as hortensia cleaned her shoes.

“i know you don’t want me here, my dear. and it’s perfectly fine that you want to concentrate on your little date today.” it’s not only a stupid little date, it’s the whole matter of my future. “also, i know that you want to marry coriolanus snow, but honey, is he really worth it?”

y/n turned, crouching in front of her mother; holding her hand as hortensia walked out, she knew her more than her mother. y/n could bear many things, but questioning her love was the main thing that set her mind on fire. looking at the place her mother stood only a couple of minutes ago, the hole of the butter knife got her eyesight. she looked like her mother too much, staring at her was like staring at the life she could get, but so much better.

“mommy, please. if you want to question me, talk with father about it. otherwise, never doubt me, ever.” talking with long, stiff words, y/n brushed her mother’s hand. “do you understand me?”

for a moment, she thought that her mother was gonna slap her, but instead, lorelei giggled. as she searched for her glass.

“you are much more determined than morphia, my dear. i hope your date will go well, the chauffeur is yours tonight. if snow comes too, then… don’t make much noise. your father won't be here tonight anyway, but i’d like to get some sleep.” she said, turning out on the door, closing it. hortensia asked if she could come in, making y/n nod. looking onto the picture where she and coriolanus stood, she didn’t even realize her heart was nearly beating out of her ribcage. picking up her white, snow-like stole, spraying perfume on herself, hortensia straightened her dress, escorting her down the stairs.

the place coriolanus offered wasn’t a big deal, but that’s what she needed. as long as they could talk without one of her father’s workers or her mother’s friends interrupting them, it was fine. helping her take off her stole and pull out the chair for her like a gentleman, y/n asked for an easy meal. not being able to think with a full stomach was one point of that, but the other was the meaning of the meal. watching his father’s guests taught her that when somebody wanted to have breakfast, lunch, dinner or even a fucking tea party, it wasn’t about food, no. food was just the cloak to cover up nasty things.

“are you feeling alright?” coriolanus asked her as they got their food. y/n dug into hers, then looked up at him, smiling. he didn’t look like a half-god; he looked like apollo himself. the dim light sculpted his cheeks and his lips, y/n wanted to dig into his hair between two messy kisses, and although she was a virgin, she could imagine how it was like to have him thrust into her, giving out the animal-like noises she remembered in her dreams.

“of course, this is a really lovely place. i am so happy that we are here, i wanted to do this for so long.” she answered, placing down her fork as she held his hand.

“for so long? how long, y/n?” he teasingly smiled, making y/n look away. for a lifetime, baby.

“from the moment… you helped me up in the hall of the college.”

“so from the moment we first met?”

“no, we met before! i…” will the truth hurt him? “...i noticed you at a dinner we attended with my family.” she was fourteen, and coriolanus moved things in her like nobody else. probably that was the time when the chemicals in her brain made her difficult, nearly banging her head against the wall as she couldn’t even understand herself.

“which one?”

“two years ago.” a little lie couldn’t hurt anybody.

“it’s gonna surprise you, but… i noticed you too, y/n. i wanted to talk to you, but you had to escort your sister, and my grandma said that it’s not appropriate.”

“really? that’s so… inevitable, don’t you think?”

“i don’t know about these things so much, y/n. but i think you are so beautiful.”

“thank you so much. you look also handsome, coriolanus. and… i want to talk about something, something that… can really, really influence our future.”

“really?” he asked, making y/n slightly lift her eyebrows. oh god, be not only a fling, y/n.

“yes, of course! you know, my family takes marriage really seriously, and…” seeing the slight worry on his face, y/n held his hand again. “i really don’t want to rush you, my dear. it’s just, my father gave his blessing when i told him that we are going on a date.” well, he’s not really, but he will. cyril will even thank her when she’s gonna be the first lady of panem.

“that’s wonderful, y/n! you know, i’d never guess that, because, you know… how me and my family, and my father–”

“corio, please. what happened in the past didn’t depend on you. it was a real, gigantic catastrophe.” those wankers took everything away from us. “who would have guessed what’s gonna happen with the thirteenth district? your family bet on the wrong horse, but sometimes, it happens.”

“i know, but it’s still my job to get money to help my family.” coriolanus answered, taking a sip from his wine. “you know, y/n, this plinth-prize thing is tiring me out as hell, and i really don’t know what to do. it can seem like i’m in control, but all i see are walls and i keep clashing into them. i knew i had a big chance to get that prize, and i hoped that things would turn out in a good way, but… i don’t know, it’s like a curse.”

y/n nodded, leaning on her hands, brushing the ring on her middle finger. her ring finger was reserved from the moment she saw coriolanus.

“i hope i’m not boring you, y/n, but–”

“no, of course you don’t! it is my pleasure that you share your concerns with me, although i can’t do much. i wanted to offer my help, but things happened too fast, and volumnia has eyes everywhere. i still don’t know what she’s going to think about today, when i lucretius asked me up. being asked before cameras is not my type.”

“don’t worry, i don’t like him either. but he’s gonna present the whole games, so i have to get used to it.”

“you will, my dear, and i have no doubts about that.” she smiled, eating some more. trying to get her foot more comfortable as the heels burned her soles, she accidentally knocked into coriolanus’ legs, making her look up at him. “oh my, sorry, it’s just…”

“don’t worry, y/n. does your feet hurt in those heels? i can’t comprehend that even when tigris are wearing them, they look awful to walk in.”

“no, it’s perfectly fine.” noble people doesn’t have to dig in the mine or sweat in the factories, but as hard to swallow a pill, the hard work is still their task –redistribution between districts and control all the twelve districts are really hard, while they have to wear uncomfortable shoes and suits, smiling every time even if the question is the most humiliating shit ever. deep down everyone in every district knew that if the capitolium lashed out, there wouldn’t be the slightest hope of survival.

“if you say so… and, how is the work with volumnia?”

“well, i can’t tell you secrets, but… she’s pretty okay.” she’s an animal. she would be ready anytime to pull my stomach out through my throat if i’d tell anything about what’s going inside there. “her ways are interesting, i admit that, nevertheless, she’s a mastermind.”

“i’d like to work beside a mastermind, or to talk with a mastermind.” silly boy, he was already dating with one right now. but even y/n didn’t know that. she never knew any other mindset than hers.

after dinner, coriolanus paid and helped her out of the restaurant. the city lights were dim and almost turned off, but the night didn’t end, not for them.

“thank you, corio. this was a lovely, lovely night.” she whispered, putting her hand on his shoulder as they stood before each other. she imagined as they stepped out from even such a little restaurant, photos flashing around them, people admiring them as they sat in the car to go home to a big castle or mansion.

“thank you for coming, y/n. and give my greetings and thankfulness to your father.” leaning down, more like supporting than holding her jawline gently with his fingers, he pressed a kiss on her forehead, y/n’s knees brushed in her excitement. only coriolanus could bring out this state from her, nobody and nothing else. she was a diamond under pressure, and coriolanus was the last push she always needed to be more perfect. as he ended the soft kiss, y/n pursed her lips, looked at his eyes, then his lips. and the next move surprised her even, tearing her soul into pieces in a good way.

coriolanus lifted up her face by her chin to kiss her. so this was it? this is what true love feels like? this is what fulfilled love and devotion feels like? he was so soft, she wanted to bite into his skin, but instead, her lips just brushed his, slimming down her hand to his chest, as he softly grabbed her neck to make her stay. oh my, y/n thought, sighing as she sipped a fresh bite of air through her nose. she didn’t want to end this, no. not tonight. god knows when they can be together again, be together like this.

behind them, a car honked. despite being a good chauffeur, helius isn’t the best at timing, y/n thought as she almost rolled her eyes annoyed by her chauffeur, brushing coriolanus’ face to make him stop.

“this is your car? sorry, i’m…”

“come with me, corio.” she whispered, brushing her lips against his chin.

“are you sure about that? your parents–” y/n grabbed his hand, slowly dragging him to the car as helius opened the door for them. coriolanus helped her get in, as the car started to drive, y/n turned to coriolanus. they began to kiss again, she tried to brush her tongue to his, but now he was the one who pushed her away gently, trying to brush his hair to look somehow collected. “y/n, your parents are home? i can’t be respectful enough if they see that i’m eating up their daughter.”

“my father isn't home, and my mother is sleeping now. please, dear…” she tried to lean over him, it was impossible because of the height difference. coriolanus smiled, brushing her face.

“how could i say no to you after this?” he said, letting her bury her lips into hers for the rest of the ride. arriving home, y/n nodded to helius as he could now retire for the rest of the night. stepping up on the marble front garden fastly, she opened the door. placing her finger before her lips, she signed to coriolanus to be quiet, hurrying up on the stairs to her room. y/n was glad that hortensia did her job and tidied up the place, so all they had to do was lie down and continue what they began.

“you are so beautiful”, coriolanus moaned as he peeled down his coat and his jacket, y/n threw her stole onto the dressing table.

“you are so handsome”, y/n whispered, kicking off her shitty but glamorous shoes, helping him unbutton his shirt as she kissed his jawline. something strange took over her mind; if someone asked her what she’s going to do tomorrow, she couldn’t answer, couldn’t form even a single thought. it was so animalistic, just as she hovered over coriolanus, sitting on his hips as she tried to unzip her dress, as coriolanus reached for it to help her, y/n remembered that she had a corset on. leaning away from him, she faced the mirror on the dressing table.

“what’s the matter, y/n? did i do something?” he asked, reaching after her as she tried to pull it off without him noticing, but it was impossible even for her. “y/n, what are you doing? is that… holy, you wear a corset?”

“yes, but… don’t worry, it’s just because…” who the fuck was her? she wasn’t bragging, why did she slip apart? she stopped her thoughts as coriolanus crawled behind her, helping her unzip her red dress, kissing her hair from behind.

“y/n, i hope you know that you don’t need that.” coriolanus muttered, grabbing the ropes of the corset to ease it around her form. kissing her hair again, then moving around to get to her cheeks. as he reached her lips, the corset was undone, thrown into the corner of the room. “it can stay there, love. look at yourself, how beautiful you are, the girl i fell in love with.”

looking into the mirror, it always saw makeup and craziness, and now… look at yourself, y/n, getting what you wanted. is this how the world works? is this how the university rewards me for my efforts, my sacrifices? y/n look at coriolanus in the mirror, the red dress holding the last bits of her breasts, turning to him, she let him get over. peeling off her dress, by an instinct, brushing his clothed cock with her knees, hearing an elated whine from him. she knew he was a virgin, she was too, but she moaned louder when coriolanus brushed her naked breasts, playing with her nipples while kissing her. it was so new, so unusual, and yet, everytime his fingertips touched her sensitive buds, she felt her blood striking down to her core.

“do you like this, y/n?” he asked, making her hiss, nodding as she looked up at him.

“yes… please, corio… i want you…” she gasped, trying to reach for his cock even if she didn’t know what it was going to feel like. coriolanus smiled shyly, reaching for her hips to lift it so he could take off her underwear. y/n wasn’t shy, and this was the first real pussy he ever saw, and if it depended on her, the last one, too. so, how could he compare her to any other girl?

“i want you, too. but… i heard that it can hurt.” he kissed her, and a slight pain striked her core as she felt something crawl up. she accidentally bit down on his lips too hard, drawing blood. “i’m sorry, y/n, i just thought that–”

“please don’t stop,” she cut into his words, grabbing his hand to guide it back. if his fingers were this long and stretching her out this much, how is she going to fit his perfect cock into her cunt? it was painful at first, but it changed to pleasure, she hoped coriolanus felt the same silk on the inside, the silk she felt every time she fingered herself. the impulse grew in her stomach, similar to the way when she was fingering herself, but it was another impulse. erratic, something she wanted to scoop up into a bowl and drink from it. coriolanus stopped, pulling his fingers out, y/n grabbed his wrist to lick herself off. it was messy, but she swore she saw his pupils dilated as he looked at her.

“i think it’s time for me to take this off too, isn’t it?” he asked, pulling down the waistband of his underwear. she hadn't seen so many cocks before, but he was so… beautiful. not too short, not too long, curling up a little bit, almost touching his abdomen from the excitement. y/n hoped that from the previous actions he got hard, because that’s what the girls always talked about at girly nights, but seeing the pre-cum dripping down on coriolanus’ cock got her mouth watering.

“do you want me to pleasure you?” she asked, already leaning up on her elbows. coriolanus shook his head, kissing her as he guided her to lay back down.

“no, love. it’s not about you, it’s just… i don’t think i’m going to last long even if we begin this,” he whispered, y/n giggled as coriolanus rolled his eyes joyfully.

“this is my first time too, corio.”

“i know, and i’m trying to make it hurt as little as i can, but please don’t be mad at me if–” y/n grabbed his chin, making him face again.

“how could i ever be mad at you?” she asked silently, brushing her forehead to his. coriolanus held her hand, grabbing his cock with the other, placing it to her core. y/n held onto his shoulder, just as in her dream.

“i hope you will enjoy this just as much as i do.” he whispered, kissing her, slowly slipping inside. y/n felt like she was teared apart, hissing, pressing her thighs to his waist. even a tear slipped from between her lashes as she tried to hold in the agonizing scream. she knew this would turn intp pleasure and sparks too, but it was so fucking unbelieveable to realize.

“should we stop, y/n?” coriolanus asked, his sound husky from the thigh feeling, burying his head into her neck. y/n shook her head, slipping her fingers into the hair on the back of his head.

“just keep going, it will be good, i believe”, she muttered, and with that, he began to thrust. the first dozen were painful, as if his cock tried to murder her, but after a little time, it eased up, and she caught herself softly moaning as their lips melted into each other again. “you can be faster if you want”, y/n whispered, making coriolanus nod, an adorable look on his face from trying to concentrate and not cumming. when he first hit the spot where she could never reach, y/n almost clawed into his back from the pleasure. she understood why people loved to make love; the way his cock filled her pussy was so natural and so perfect, her heartbeat and his moans thrumming in her ears, his big hand grabbing into hers stronger and stronger, not letting her lift up hers, ever, pinning down and dominating her. another tear striked from her eyes, but this was because of happiness, pure beatitude.

“i’m… ngh, love, i’m not going to last long”, coriolanus moaned, hitting her pleasure spot again and again, making y/n’s abdomen curl tighter and tighter. she felt as if she was a bomb ready to explode, reaching down with her free hand to her clit, circling it. it was too much, feeling how pubic lifted and fell every time he pulled out, only thrust into her, y/n turned her head so she could last longer, but it didn’t help, coriolanus was everywhere, in her mouth, her cunt, her hand, her ears and her eyesight, even in her mind.

“i’m…ah, corio, i’m going to cum, love…” she tried to say, his cock giving her the finishing move to push her over the edge. everything turned to white and black at the same time, she felt the pleasure and pressure blowing up in every cell of her body, striking through her veins to get the sensation from head to toe, thighs pressed to his side to make him go deeper, she felt her mouth opened, a silent scream coming out as a long, ragged, guttural moan. feeling him slowing down, she knew coriolanus reached his high too, laying his head on her collarbone, breathing heavily. for a moment, y/n didn’t know where she was, she only felt the softness under her, his body upon hers, and the last, tingling feeling in her pussy.

coriolanus pushed himself down from her, laying beside her on his back, placing his hand on his chest. y/n looked at him, panting, smiling as she could, kissing his face.

a couple minutes later she was dressed in a robe just as him, the blanket covering them. y/n laid on his chest, looking into the fire, grabbing one of his hands as he stroked her hair.

“this was fantastic, y/n. thank you so much, for everything.”

y/n rolled her eyes, kissing his skin as she smiled. this wasn’t the soft smile she formed in front of him, this was the smile she formed when she was alone, but the darkness kept her secrets. for a moment, clemensia and arachne long forgotten, even sejanus’s and lucy gray’s face faded as there were just the two of them.

“you don’t have to thank me for anything, corio. i am glad that you are happy.”

a/n: i'm really really really tired but i couldn't let you down girliez!! i hope you liked it, i passed my test but i'm gonna have another )): nevetheless, i'll try and write more and more parts because i have plans, so don't worry <3

taglist: @champomiel @stelleduarte @diamondsbestie @tomriddles-wh0re @ikeryn @americanprometheuss @themorriganisamonster @cybersry @marihoneywk @randomgurl2326 @jxynotfound @velunis @theoriginalwife000 @coconut-dreamz @lukepattersin

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow icons #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow #hunger games x reader #hunger games imagine #hunger games fic #hunger games fanfiction #ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #ballad of songbirds and snakes imagine #ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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underdark-dreams · 1 year

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I'm a slut for hurt/comfort and I'm obsessed with this trope tbh: Can we get Rolan/Tav where Tav gets downed in battle? (Obvs they can be brought back bc scrolls and revivify and what have you, I just want that sweet sweet angst.)

Rolan x Unnamed Fem!Tav: she/her

Whoo boy, we may have angst'ed too close to the sun with this one. Can't say much else without getting choked up--just love Rolan even when he's in pain. Thank you for this request!

Life, Death, Resurrection

During the ambush at Last Light Inn, the young wizard stares down the very real possibility of his dear one's death. A bittersweet night seen through Rolan's eyes.

Tags: Fem Unnamed Tav, Angst, Major Injury, Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2,430 [Read on AO3]

It was like the very skies above had cracked open to let the hells stream through.

Everything roared around Rolan all at once—nightmares on wings descended in ambush through the roof of Last Light Inn, the din of screams and ripping flesh and thudding bodies against the floor overwhelming his senses before he could gather them.

Only reflex saved him as a winged horror stretched its claws high above to strike—then was pushed backwards by the thunderous force from both his hands. An arrow from Lia’s bow whistled past his ear, close enough that he felt the rush of air against his cheek.

“Fuck is happening—!” She yelled aloud to no one, another arrow already notched against her bowstring. Lakrissa sprinted in to form a line with her despite the bleeding gash on her bow arm.

Jaheira burst through the fray with eyes like steel. “Harpers, to the cleric!” The druid hit the ground on four paws—powerful teeth tore through one hellish creature’s translucent wing like it was parchment, its shrieking figure hurled against the back wall by the panther’s jaws—

Rolan wasted a precious second glancing to Isobel’s quarters above. He saw the flashes of rapid-fire spellcasting, heard the vicious scrape of metal against metal, and grasped Jaheira’s meaning in an instant. All the chaos on the lower floor was just a diversion to occupy their forces—the cleric’s room was the true focus of the ambush. And she was up there somewhere.

“Die and I’ll kill you both,” Rolan shouted to his siblings as he broke for the stairs. The blunt end of Cal’s spear swung past him in response, landing a killing blow on the ghoul Jaheira had just flung past their heads.

Supportive forces from outside the inn walls were rapidly gathering. Harper Skywin's crossbow bolt sang true through the wide front doors, piercing one monster's throat a moment too late, its claws already dripping with the warm blood of the disemboweled Harper on the floorboards.

Dammon rushed across the threshold just as Rolan's boots reached the first step. Their eyes met for only an instant as Rolan dashed upward. Behind him he heard the sharp sizzle of flesh as the smith’s blade, still glowing from the fires of his furnace, seared through the belly of the creature standing over its kill.

Rolan reached the balcony just as yet another winged ghoul touched down outside the cleric's room. He threw handful after handful of icy shards through its chest, overcome with impatient fury. Finally its impaled body fell back over the railing with a death rattle. He wheeled round in the doorway to face the scene within.

The colossal Flaming Fist's greatsword swung outward in a reckless circle—his face was disfigured by necrotic energy, dark unnatural wings sprouting from between his shoulders.

She and her companions flanked him on all sides—Rolan watched her face reflect the radiant magic of her own sword as it slashed for Marcus's shoulder. Shadowheart's arms guided a blinding bolt into the Fist's back, while from the corner Isobel called down healing energy upon her allies as rapidly as she could. The fight was nearly theirs.

Rolan joined to aim a spell through the fray, channeling every bit of the Weave he could reach to bind and weaken the monster. Marcus roared in frustration as he felt their numbers rapidly turning the tide against him.

Several things happened all at once. With a raging strike, Karlach swung her battleaxe down upon the Fist’s neck to cleave at the exposed gap in his armor, landing the death blow that would bring him to his knees.

And in the same instant—maybe because his savior was closest, or just the last face Marcus glimpsed in death—Rolan saw the Fist's hand raise toward her too late to intervene. A final burst of necrotic magic pushed out from his collapsing body, rushed through her chest, exited like black smoke from between her shoulder blades.

Her mouth formed a soft “oh!” of surprise. In the next moment, Rolan watched her figure crumple and fold over itself on its way to the ground, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“No—” The hoarse word barely escaped his throat. The Gods couldn’t be so fucking cruel to take her now, not after she’d just given him back the only family he’d ever known—

Rolan scrambled toward her through pools of cooling blood, kneeled where she lay. An iron fist gripped around him. "Wake up," he ordered her limp and unresponsive body, even as he gathered it in his arms. "Damn it, wake up!"

All the rest of them standing around him were forgotten. Somehow he was stumbling down the stairs with her, rushing into the barracks that had rapidly begun filling with the other wounded and bleeding. The rest of them could wait; she must be the first.

He laid her body out on the nearest empty bed. Not body—he corrected his mind in a wild panic—her eyes would open and she would live. Right now, her features lay so still it filled him with dread.

Why was no one descending instantaneously to heal her? He would’ve shouted if he could find his voice. Isobel was practically on death's door herself—Rolan watched her slump against the wall and wipe dark blood from her mouth. He turned away, unable to bear the fucking sight of her anyway, not after what her life may have just cost him. He cast around desperately for the Sharran.

Shadowheart was beside him in a second, already peeling off her bloodied gloves.

"Please," he begged. "Tell me she's not—"

Shadowheart's hands gripped his shoulders, vice-like. "If you want her to live, go. I need to concentrate." Her words broke through, and Rolan stumbled backwards in mute obedience.

Only his other fears for Cal and Lia could have drawn him from the room. He found them gathered around the central hall with the rest of the able-bodied, wiping the infernal blood from their weapons and taking stock of the casualties in a daze. The three of them all held each other wordlessly. Through the heat rising from the open hearth, Rolan glimpsed Alfira and Lakrissa doing the same.

With that concern eased, his mind was consumed with the one that remained. He paced across the hall in an effort to follow her companion's warning to stay away for as long as he could stand.

Once he couldn't, Rolan returned to the makeshift infirmary to stand helpless at the foot of her bed. Shadowheart took no notice of him; her eyes glowed blank as her hands directed a powerful flow of magic into her patient's chest. In this wan light, Rolan found her features more fragile and delicate than he’d ever seen them.

As the ritual came to an end, Shadowheart leaned across the unconscious figure to check the pulse at her wrist.

"How is she?" Rolan asked, terrified of the answer.

“She’ll be all right,” the cleric told him as she rose to take her leave. “But that was powerful magic; her body needs time. She probably won’t wake for hours.” He ignored the note of suggestion in her voice.

"I'll stay with her," Rolan said, final. Shadowheart didn’t question him as she moved away toward the next injured.

Rolan slumped cross-legged on the floor near her shoulder. From this angle, he could see the rise and fall of her chest under her tunic. Her bloodied half-plate lay against the wall behind him; no doubt Shadowheart had removed it to heal her wounds. Her breaths were shallow but steady.

Rolan found his own chest rising and falling in tandem, as if he might lend her some of his strength by doing so.

At the long table near the center of the room, he heard Jaheira's Harpers grouping around her in deep conversation about their next move. Marcus had been with them since the beginning, Rolan was aware—which meant that Ketheric Thorm had been one step ahead of their strategy this whole time. Rolan heard her name brought up several times in urgent excitement. She was their secret weapon. She could infiltrate Moonrise Towers this very night, and she still wouldn't be expected.

Rolan closed his eyes against the incessant discussion. He couldn’t care less about Marcus, or Thorm, or Isobel, or the entire Shadow Curse itself for that matter. There they all stood alive and well, plotting the next bloody feat she was meant to undertake, as if her spent body wasn't fighting for life in the bed a few steps away. Angry disbelief rose in his throat.

"For fuck's sake," Rolan interjected through them, "can't you all just let her rest for one fucking night?"

Surprised faces turned toward him. He didn't care if it branded him a traitor to their cause, didn't care what they thought of him at all, as long as she was left in peace for once.

It seemed Jaheira was the only one wise enough to understand. "The cub's right," she decided. "We regroup at dawn. Tonight, we rest."

Once the Harpers had filed out of the room on her orders, Jaheira turned back to him from the doorway. “Look after her,” she said, almost with gentleness. Rolan didn’t need the druid or anyone else to tell him that. But he said nothing as she left the room.

Rolan was finally left alone with his thoughts as the fire in the stone hearth behind him burned down to coals. Before long all the other infirmary occupants were sound asleep, drifting away to join the one beside him. From across the dark room Art Cullough whispered the same snatches of his halting song.

Rolan’s weary back ached despite his resolve to keep watch over her. He’d only rest his head for a little while, he told himself. He folded his arms on the edge of her mattress and lay his cheek across them so he could still face her, one hand brushing against hers. He took it without thought.

Her hands were cold. It didn’t worry him; he knew by now that they usually were. Many times in the past she’d laughed with embarrassment whenever her hands met his skin for one reason or another. Nevertheless, he wrapped her fingers under the warmth of his palm.

Rolan closed his eyes as he listened to her soft breath rise and fall.

He awoke some hours later to the sensation of something tickling his hand. Rolan raised his head groggily, realizing through the dark that it was her thumb brushing across his knuckles.

“Rolan?” Her voice whispered.

“I’m here—” He straightened up, trying to see her face through the dim light. His bent legs had gone painfully numb under him.

“What time s’it.”

He had no clue, just having awakened himself. “Past midnight,” he guessed, judging by the spare red glow of the coals in the hearth.

“Where’s Isobel?” She croaked out.

Rolan’s relief at hearing her voice again was colored with disbelief that she was already asking after others. “She’s fine, asleep upstairs. How do you feel?”

“It was Ketheric’s orders,” she explained, ignoring his question. “Taken alive…why he sent Marcus.”

To Rolan’s mind that didn’t begin to explain the attack, but he couldn’t care about all that now.

“It’s over,” he assured her. “Your companions are all safe. Everyone’s sleeping off the fight. You should too.”

He heard her sigh in relief, and then the sound worked itself into a pained cough. “Feel like Karlach clocked me in the ribs,” she winced.

“Should I get Shadowheart?” Rolan was ready to wake her friend without delay. He had half-risen before her fingers clenched against his to keep him where he knelt.

“Stay,” she requested, then added almost shyly, “please.”

Rolan was back beside her in an instant. Wherever she wanted him, that’s where he’d be. He settled himself against the edge of her bed once more, their hands still connected.

She was quiet for a long moment. “I suppose now we take the fight to Moonrise Towers.”

“By all the Hells,” Rolan muttered. He wasn’t upset at her—just at every other circumstance that weighed and pressed down on her shoulders. “Don’t you think you can take one night for yourself before you have to rush off and save us all again?”

She shifted against the bedding. “The element of surprise won’t last forever, Rolan. You know that as well as I do. The sooner we dispatch Ketheric, the sooner we can finally make our way to Baldur’s Gate, all of us.”

Rolan knew she was appealing to his personal motives, but he resisted. “Think about yourself for once,” he instructed her. “Just rest for now. Sleep. Gods know you deserve it.”

She fell silent for a while. Rolan tried to make out her expression in the dim light; he wondered if he’d been too harsh.

“Oh, just come here,” she said suddenly. “My back hurts just looking at you.” With a soft grunt of effort she scooted to the far side of the bed; Rolan realized she was making a spot for him.

He hesitated only for a moment before climbing up beside her. The mattress was firm and lumpy, but after the unyielding wood floor, it felt soft as a cloud against his stiff limbs. She settled on her side to examine him up close.

“Your face is all bloody,” she said. Her eyes reflected just enough firelight that he could make out their expression of concern.

Rolan glanced down at himself, realizing his skin and clothing were still flecked and stained head to toe from the night’s battle. His face must be in a similar state. “I don’t think it’s mine,” he answered honestly.

“Goodness,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “What a dashing hero.” Rolan couldn’t make out if she was teasing or serious, and wasn’t sure which possibility made his heart thump faster. He deflected by bringing her knuckles up to his lips.

Rolan felt her sigh again in reaction, more relaxed this time.

“Rolan?”

“Mm.”

“Hold me for a while?” She asked quietly.

He didn’t need to be asked twice. Rolan’s arms slid under and over her, drawing her frame near to him. Her head bent to his chest as he held her close. Her brave, reckless, kind, vulnerable self.

Before very long, her breathing reached the heavy cadence of sleep. Rolan drifted toward unconsciousness not far behind her. It was dreamless; his arms held all he could want.

#rolan x tav #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #bg3 fic #angst #hurt/comfort #injury #fem unnamed tav #underdark-dreams #soitbe-soitis #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 spoilers

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saintmuses · 9 months

Text

❝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪❞

Pairing:

Emmett x Abbott!Reader

Summary:

When the world ended, she couldn’t stop thinking about the man who she would always talk to at the baseball games, wondering if she would ever see him again.

Warning(s): SMUT. Age gap (Emmett is in his late 30s and Reader is in her early 20s). Both POVs. Minor angst (barely). Slight degradation. Thigh grinding. Praise kink. Breeding kink. Flashbacks in italics. Minors, dni! Note: Emmett is single and does not have children. I also tweaked some of the events from the movie in this as well as giving the Colony leader a name because I don’t recall if they ever did.

Word Count: 5.7k

Y/N Abbott was walking through the bustling crowd as she could smell the hot charcoal heating up hot dogs and hamburgers to the point it smelled charred.

It was the summer when she came back from her junior year at a university in Chicago.

She heard her name being called; she turned her head to see her mom walking towards her with a small smile. “Hey Y/N, your dad wants you over there with Regan and Beau.”

Y/N turned her head to see Regan waving at her along with her dad at the stands; Beau was idling by them, playing with a toy he had in his hand. She chuckled, shaking her head fondly. “Alright,” she murmured softly, turning her head at her mom in acknowledgment before striding over to where they were.

She walked up the stands, maneuvering between spots she could fit through so she could sit by her family. She ruffled Beau’s hair as she passed him, Regan reached out and tugged her hand firmly to sit next to her.

Y/N grinned, “you got something you want to say?” She signed to her sister as she eased herself down onto the cool metal bench.

Regan shook her head, ringlets bounced along with the movement. “I can’t tell you right now, but I will later.” She signed back to her quickly.

Y/N tilted her head slightly, “oh. You got me curious now. Is it about a guy?” She signed discreetly, asking her the typical question that every teenager experienced at least once in their lifetime.

Her sister nodded her head in a quick affirmative action.

Y/N smirked before dragging her attention from her sister to her brother, Marcus who was waiting in the line for his turn to bat.

“Oi! Lee, who’s this?” A curious but loud voice could be heard from behind her.

She turned her head to see there was a man sitting at the top row of the metal tiered bleacher with some sort of shortwave radio placed next to him.

Her dad chuckled beside them, “you haven’t seen her until now because she didn’t want to be around us anymore, but this is the oldest Abbott.” He grinned with mirth in his eyes as he explained in a form of a joke causing Y/N to roll her eyes.

“Dad…” she muttered, feeling a secondhand embarrassment from the introductory speech before she focused on the man before her.

He was wearing the dark colored cap with a denim blue form fitting dress shirt; a tattoo could be seen peeking out on his upper bicep underneath his shirt. However, what drew her attention was how intense of the color of his eyes.

Icy blue.

She could feel her cheeks staining in slight pink when she noticed that he was raking his eyes over her, a small but genuine smile as he raised his hand to her in a form of a handshake.

She reached out, clasping it with hers. His skin was calloused in some areas which told her that he had done some extensive labor for a living.

“I’m Y/N,” she said quietly.

His eyes were piercing as he spoke to her with a low voice, “nice to meet you, I’m Emmett.”

She nodded in acknowledgment before releasing his hand, turning her face to the baseball field in front of her.

Y/N didn’t think someone like him would pique her interest since he resembled to one of those mechanic guys at the only mechanic shop in Millbrook town. However, her eyes kept straying from the baseball field to him every now and then as she kept telling herself he did not fit in her type.

On day four hundred and seventy-four, Y/N found herself nearly yelping when she felt a hand wrapped around her mouth, her eyes widened in sheer terror in response when she saw a man in a filthy but familiar cap and rugged bandana covering half of his face.

He whispered inaudibly into her ear, shushing her very gently. “I got you.”

She immediately recognized his voice, being able to place the owner as Emmett. The man who never left her mind.

She swallowed and nodded, somehow looking at him gave her a sense of relief, then he took her where he sent her mom and her siblings down in the underground of the foundry as they hid from one of the Death Angels as what her dad and the media called them such as.

She could tell what happened to him for four hundred and seventy-four days had left him with a severe cynical outlook on life, so jaded that he would say that people weren’t the same anymore ever since what happened on day one.

It was all in his eyes. The sense of tiredness, caution, and coldness in his depths.

Not without a slight regret when his gaze were on her as he told her mom that they could not stay here.

And not without a sense of disappointment she felt when she realized she may never see him again when they leave after the dawn began to break.

Only the rest of the day and night then they would need to disappear in the morning.

It wasn’t until late at night when her sister woke her up with a brief touch on her shoulder.

Y/N was once a heavy sleeper until the death angels invaded the Earth and now, she woke up to random little noises wondering if it was her last moment.

Her eyes blinked blearily to see Regan beckoning her towards the vault. She looked around the dark dinky space after she propped herself up from her spot, observing her mom as she slept next to the makeshift crib and Marcus was sleeping on the floor by it as well.

She then walked across the space quietly before climbing in the vault, closing the heavy circular door, only leaving a few inches before turning to face her sister.

Regan was sitting at the end of the vault with the dimmed lantern, a map of New York in front of her and the radio next to her. “I have an idea.” She signed to her, eyes peering at her expectantly.

Y/N gave her the green light to express her idea as she sat there. Regan began to animatedly sign with eyes lightening up, pointing at a nearby island miles off the mainland of New York, referring to the potential connection of the song Beyond the Sea to the radio tower where the survivors were able to reside at. Theorizing that if she could travel across the water and use her cochlear implant to help to emit the high frequency signals to weaponize against the creatures roaming on Earth.

Y/N was already shaking her head, immediately rejecting the idea. “You can’t go,” she signed firmly.

A pause as Regan stared at her, then displeasure rang in her eyes.

Before she could respond, Y/N signed emphatically, “mom would worry about you whether if you’re in one piece or not. She has a baby to consider now, and she can’t take care of him if she worries about you.”

“Then you do it.” Regan’s hands were expressing her defiance sharply.

Her instinctive response was to say no because she did not want to leave her family behind. What if something were to happen to them while she was gone? What if something happened to her if she ventured out on her own.

She was going to tell her no until her dad’s scream echoed in her head. She paused; her dad would’ve wanted her to do it. To give the humanity a better chance of living after everything had been said and done.

After packing a few things that was required for survival. She placed the backpack on her back as she looked at her sister by the opening space of the foundry facing the direction they would’ve gone to if it had not been for the surprise bear trap and Emmett.

The moonlight was casting shadows on them, illuminating the darkness that the light hadn’t reached.

“You swear to not say anything and pretend not to know where I’m going?” She asked, eyebrows raising.

Regan nodded firmly; her pinky finger held out in front of her. Y/N sighed with a small smile before raising her pinky finger to return the gesture, clasping around hers loosely then she was gone, returning to the underground.

She inhaled softly, looking at the other direction where she knew Emmett was residing above the abandoned factory as he watched over the overgrown grass covering railroads before returning her gaze back to the other side.

When the dawn broke the horizons, symbolizing four hundred and seventy-five days since the day one, Emmett ventured down the tower before returning to the underground. He heard the rushed footsteps below him as he climbed down the steel ladder.

“Y/N is gone,” Evelyn whispered frantically, eyes glimmering with slight panic. His jaw clenched down in fear, if he had more strength added to his jaw, he would’ve had an astounding dental bill.

Stoically, he stared at the blonde-haired woman while he was dealing with the simmering fear that was causing an inner turmoil in his mind.

She continued, “She must’ve left in the middle of the night when we were sleeping. I don’t know where she went.”

His eyes strayed from her as she continued to talk, landing on the children who were watching him with skepticism and caution. The young boy was hovering the baby as he checked on him. However, the teenaged girl was gnawing her bottom lip as her eyes barely twitched which was a dead giveaway as if she was unfazed by the news. His gut instinct had rattled at the sight of her.

A simple of the fact Regan was hiding something which meant she knew where Y/N was going.

Paper rustling slightly as Y/N aimed a flashlight at the map to see how far she ended up going from the Foundry to the abandoned building on the side of the railroad. Squinting her eyes at the words as it was eerily dark and the bright light from the metal object was not helping a bit.

Her head snapped to the right when she heard a slightest noise from somewhere. It wasn’t loud enough for a creature to come, but she knew it had meant something was lurking in the darkness.

She slowly pushed herself up from the wooden floor, standing as she aimed the flashlight in specific corners of the building.

She swallowed as the noise edged closer to where she was at.

All of sudden, a large hand clasped over her mouth and the other hand wrapped around her waist as their arm pushed them into a broad chest. Lips pressing against her ear, whispering into it before she could struggle. “Hey, hey, it’s me.” The hushed sound of his voice made her relax in his hold as she sighed inaudibly into his palm. His skin felt warm against her lips as he hadn’t released her from his chest.

Then he whispered gruffly, his fingers dug into her skin lightly as to emphasize his emotional turmoil. “Why the fuck would you leave?”

She told him the idea her sister had with her cochlear implant. Explaining everything that occurred earlier in the morning before she left. She pointed at the map, trailing her finger from the location of where they were at to the island where Regan’s theory had a chance to be proven.

The sun rays were shining through the dirty windows the next day as she was shaken on the shoulder by a heavy movement, she opened her eyes confused until she saw him above, kneeling next to her. He mouthed that he found the Marina where the boats would reside at.

The sun was setting below the horizon by the time they arrived at the bridge before he helped her to prop herself up on the steel beam of the bridge so she could see what Emmett had found.

There were ships and boats docked at the harbor in the distance, resembling hope that they were closer to finding a solution to the end of Death Angels.

Before the world fell apart that day, she was on the edge of her seat watching the baseball game.

“Hey, Y/N. I have a question for you.” A voice spoke up from behind her, and her lips curled before settling in a blank expression when she turned her head to see Emmett looking at her with a grin on his face.

“What is it?”

“How do you sign the word dive?” Emmett asked, blue eyes shining with mischief and curiosity.

She pursed her lips as she raised one of her eyebrows, “I’m going to need more context than that. Are you referring to swimming or a situation related?”

“Whatever you want to show me, sweetheart.” He said it casually, shrugging.

Her breathing hitched slightly; red stained her skin in response. He only said the word ‘sweetheart’ whenever her family were not around them.

She cleared her throat, chuckling slightly. “Situation wise, I would just spell the word or explain it differently in sign language. You, however, are not ready for the spelling part.” He let out a low rumbling of laughter at her teasing. She ignored how her heart went pitter patter as she continued, “swimming wise, you just do this.” She demonstrated the sign for the word he requested.

He mimicked the sign in the exact form, and she nodded, a little pleased. Realizing she was a little too pleased that she had to look away due to the indescribable expression on his face with unknown emotions in his orbs as he stared at her.

He could tell she was angry at him for how he was barely reacting, stoically looking at her. Oh, but his eyes were glimmering in pure feral rage at the treatment as one of the rugged filthy bandits dragged her down the wooden dock, away from him.

No one touched her and got away with it, not on his watch.

He internally beckoned for her to look back at him, and somehow…somehow his prayer was answered when she turned her head to look at him once again, and he immediately clasped his palms together in a form of prayer, but he pushed his hands upwards, tilting forward before aiming down in a curve to resemble a diving position. The one thing he had always remembered before death came calling for thousands. Her eyes once twinkled in amusement as she taught him how to sign the word dive.

Who knew he would’ve been signing the same word over almost two years later, and he was filled with a sense of relief when she realized what his game plan was in terms of getting them out of the danger.

She struggled with the man who was holding her in a death grip until they edged closer to the edge of the dock before she pushed against him and threw herself into the water.

Emmett charged at him, wrapping the fishnet around his neck before maneuvering him to the metal pole, tying it to the point it had the man choking on the material around his neck.

He knew he had to get rid of the others. He could’ve left them alone he supposed but after what happened with Y/N, he wasn’t going to let them live, and there was only one way to do it.

He pulled out the weapon out of his pocket, and immediately felt a twisted sense of satisfaction of stabbing the hunting knife into the man’s thigh before twisting it in his flesh, relishing in his screams.

Once he spotted a Death Angel charging towards them while destroying the others, he released his hand off the handle of the weapon, moving away from the wounded man, and lunged himself off the dock, into the cold water below.

The chopped wood were crackling and burning in the fire pit as Y/N used the spoon to scoop the hot liquid with chopped vegetables before bringing it to her mouth. She hadn’t had a true decent soup that didn’t come straight out of the metal can in a long while.

There were sounds of laughter and animated words shifting the surrounding which she was not used to. She was used to the quiet and few moments of screams during their final moments, and now she was sitting in front of the bonfire as people were being lively as if Death Angels had not arrived to destroy those moments.

She felt a sensation of someone’s eyes boring into the side of her head, and she dragged her gaze from the bowl to see Emmett sitting across from her, observing her with a small quirk of his lips graced on his face. When they arrived the Island, they were able to take a shower and clean up themselves, and with the option being available to him, he was able to trim his beard which made it more tame rather than unruly.

She looked away shyly, focusing on her soup once more. Her heart skipped a beat when she noticed Emmett standing up from his spot from her peripheral vision before he walked over to where she was sitting at.

She cleared her throat when he sat down next to her, placing the wool blanket on her that was originally wrapped around him. “Thank you.” She mumbled before putting down the ceramic bowl onto the bench next to her. It had felt weird speaking without mouthing the words or whispering.

He was shaking his head, “no need to thank me.” He mumbled, staring into the firepit before looking at her. “Regan was right, and-“

“We were wrong?” She asked lightly, looking at him. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, I almost thought of her to be wrong too.” She smiled wryly, “you couldn’t anything but not believe after everything that had happened.”

The next day the Colony leader, Darius took them to the radio station building to test her sister’s theory by placing the cochlear implant next to the broadcaster signal after wiring it to the microphone.

Darius informed her gently that if they were to stay on the island permanently, there were several options for living.

A few cabins in the woods up north of the island and a beach house on the east shore.

“I would like to go for the beach house,” she blurted out, blushing when she realized that she sounded a bit too thrilled at the prospect of living in a beach house especially when she had a family back in the Foundry.

Darius gave her a slight smile, “It has four bedrooms and two bathrooms, and it’ll need some fixing but-“

She shook her head and said, “I don’t care.”

Y/N had always loved staying at the beach houses whenever the Abbott family took vacations to beaches, she would sit at the deck facing the ocean whenever they were at and listen to the waves as it met the shore.

She turned her head at Emmett, “I mean…if that’s okay with you. If you don’t like the idea of a cabin then-“ she was rambling that he had to raise his finger to press against her lips to make her stop.

“I’ll stay with you and help you get the place get all fixed then I’ll go for the cabin.” He murmured with a small smile with amusement in his eyes as he gazed into her eyes. “We can go back for your family after that, yeah?”

She stared at him before her lips curled in return while nodding. “Yeah.” She said quietly.

For approximately two weeks since life had become different, there was nothing to do that they were able to get the house fixed up.

Despite the beach house was restored, Y/N never ended up telling Emmett to go to the cabin that could’ve been his, and he seemed like he didn’t want to leave either.

They had made plans to return to the Foundry the next day and bring her family to where she and Emmett had been living.

Y/N was wearing sleepy shorts and a large t-shirt she had found in the laundry hamper. She had been standoffish towards Emmett all day since she woke up from her lustrous-filled dream of him holding her down and fucking her into the mattress. Poor Emmett was confused because he did not know what he did wrong, and she could not tell him why she had been acting off with him.

However, she was able to make him feel better when she offered a movie and snacks kind of night.

They settled down on the sectional couch as they watched a movie that they hadn’t watched before on a television box.

She had been lucky to find the sectional couch under the tarp when she had arrived at the beach house. It was huge; she would sit in the middle of the couch, almost closer to Emmett, and he tended to gravitate towards the chaise part of the furniture. Her heart did a little trill at the idea of him having a favorite spot on her furniture. It was almost domesticated-like in a way, making himself at home.

The noises emitted from the television speakers as the film rolled on.

She started shifting in her spot as hot and heavy scenes began to play. That was not what she wanted to see today of all of the days.

She was horny and maddeningly frustrated which Emmett picked up on.

“Are you alright?” He asked, concern in his voice as he turned his head towards her.

“Yes,” she said sharply, refusing to look at him while feeling a slight sense of regret since she hadn’t meant it in that tone.

Eventually her eyes strayed from the fuzzy television screen to the slight tan but hairy skin of his thigh that wasn’t covered by his basketball shorts.

A small whine accidentally escaped her throat while the feeling of arousal began to build making her shift in her spot some more at the sight of his lower thighs.

Before she could calm herself down, she was stunned as she felt hands wrapping around her waist and lifted her up from her spot, dragged onto the top of his thighs where she was sitting partially on his leg while her back was propped against the couch.

Feeling surprised that she momentarily forgot why she was whining and shifting in the first place as she looked at him with wide eyes.

Emmett narrowed his eyes at her, blue eyes flashed with unknown emotion, “behave.” He warned her with a stern tone as he laid his right arm on the back of the couch and his left rested on top of his other leg.

The feeling of shock faded as lust came back with vengeance, she swallowed before turning her head away to face the screen.

Then one character said something so out of left field when it comes to the woman. Said something about wanting to make her his in vivid details. The horniness increased a bit.

Emmett chuckled slightly, “hearing it on tv just makes it sound terrible.” He muttered with slight disgust in his voice.

Then she quietly asked, almost timidly. “What if you say it to someone?”

He blinked at the screen before turning his head to look at her. His eyes raked over her expression before a smirk slowly appeared on his face. “Then it would not be terrible because it means it’s true. Those actors don’t mean a damn thing what they say on tv. Feelings on tv is all artificial unlike people with real feelings.”

They stayed in the position for a little while longer while her arousal began to worsen over time due to proximity, watching the movie until Emmett shifted his leg which shifted the sleepy shorts under the curve of her ass.

She bit down her bottom lip in response, ensuring that he did not mean to do that. So, she maneuvered herself until she could sit further away from his thighs and closer to his knees which was a mistake because he had moved his leg again, nudging his knee which shifted her shorts again and she knew her wetness had seeped through. After all the sleepy shorts and underwear, she was wearing were flimsily thin.

His eyes widened in shock as he looked down to see a slightly glistening spot on his lower thigh. Then his light blue eyes darkened into a storm. “So, what you’re telling me is that you’ve been mad all day because you’re horny?” He asked, slightly in disbelief as he stared at her.

She blushed, refusing to answer him.

However, he did not need an answer from her. It was as obvious as the blue sky. He lightly dragged his tongue across his bottom lip, inhaling slowly. “Show me.” His words rumbled.

She stared at him in surprise as her breathing got caught in her lungs before she let out a low whimper.

He reached over while spreading her thighs, grabbing her towards him before his index and middle fingers curled into the shorts to pull aside the fabric to see her panty-cladded cunt. Unfortunately, the fabric was a light color so he could see how sopping wet she was.

He rumbled lightly at the sight of it, intensely transfixed on the fabric. “Your pussy’s soaking wet. How long have you been like this?” He murmured, inquiring with a question in his gaze.

She hesitated, her eyes trained on him as his ring and pinky fingers lightly grazed against the underwear which she had felt it through the fabric, and she shuddered in response as the sensation.

“Tell me, sweetheart.” He commanded while the motion of stroking her cunt became more firm through the fabric.

She closed her eyes at the pet name, “I’ve been feeling like this all day…” she mumbled, exhaling slowly as she opened her eyes.

He hummed before he finally pushed the thin damped fabric with his index and middle finger along with the shorts before using his other hand to push a finger into her.

Her hips buckled in response, gasping as she said, “I’m sorry.”

He chuckled nearly breathlessly at how tight she was, “don’t be sorry.” He murmured softly, “you’re just needy, craving for someone to touch you…” he trailed off, licking his lips as he leveled his gaze with hers hungrily. “Only my touch, right?”

She nodded frantically, “only yours.”

He gave her a self-satisfied smirk before pushing another finger into her cunt, “you’re tight.” He rumbled. “Have you been touched?”

“Only with my fingers and toys before…everything happened,” she mumbled shyly. Realizing it made her sound inexperienced when she told him.

He inhaled sharply, “fuck.” He groaned. It sounded guttural as if it rumbled in his chest making his voice sound hoarse.

She frowned. “Is that a bad thing?”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “no sweetheart. I wasn’t expecting that, but…” he trailed off before continuing. “It actually makes sense,” before curling his fingers upwardly to brush against the spot inside her making her whine in response. “You’re such a needy little slut.”

Her lips parted before she bit down her bottom lip as the degrading comment sent shivers of lust down in her veins.

He withdrew his fingers before maneuvering her into his lap as he sat up on the couch. He then removed her shorts and underwear down her legs before throwing them off to the side, and gruffly told her to start riding his thigh.

She stared at him with wide eyes, “y-your thigh?”

He nodded expectantly, looking at her with darkened gaze. “I want to feel your pretty little pussy rubbing on me.” He purred softly with a hungry grin. His fingers flexed on the curve of her ass.

She closed her eyes before she started to grind her hips onto his hairy thigh slowly to get used to the sensation.

“Keep your eyes open and look at me,” he growled, digging the pads of his fingers into the smooth skin of her flesh.

“I can’t.”

He began to urge her hips, moving her back and forth. “Yes, you can. I want you to see whose thighs getting you off, sweetheart.” He cooed softly.

She could only stutter as she opened her eyes reluctantly, and he chuckled at her response. “Such a needy slut,” he said teasingly as she kept rolling her hips onto his thigh desperately. His eyes then darkened once again before releasing one of his hands from her back to reach her jaw. He gripped it gently, but possessively. “My needy slut, aren’tcha?”

She nodded frantically, and he groaned heavily before smashing his lips onto hers with a force that knocked the air out of her lungs as he kissed her. Shoving his tongue into her willing mouth, edging them into a kiss that borderline filthy before easing them into soft and pliant kisses. “You didn’t think I know?” He breathed against her lips, “that pretty little thing like you wanted me as much as I wanted you for so long?”

He then dragged her off his thigh as he resumed to kissing her, igniting a sense of disappointment within her before he rolled her over under him on the cushion. He then reached down to the edge of the shirt, pushing the fabric up until her breasts were bare for his hands to touch and squeeze.

She jerked her head away from his greedy mouth, needing air to breathe which didn’t deter him because he continued with his lips trailing down her jaw, leaving wet streaks behind before dragging his lips to her neck. Pulling back before observing the shirt that bunched up above her breasts, “the shirt’s too big on you.” He pointed out with a frown painted on his lips.

“I stole it from your laundry,” she whispered shyly as if she committed a crime which she did not other than theft.

He groaned, “you’re mine.” He said gruffly before easing the shirt off of her body before taking his shirt off as well.

She felt her lips trembling slightly at the sight of his bare chest, “I’m-I’m yours.”

Emmett then removed his basketball shorts along with his underwear before placing himself on top of her between her thighs.

She felt his cock lying on top of her pelvis, it was very warm, and she could feel the ridges on underside, making her realize that it was big and heavy. She whimpered at the thought of being split apart on his girth.

He dragged his cock back and forth on her skin before he gripped it to rub the thick tip against her cunt, collecting the wetness along with it. He then pushed it downward until it caught in her hole. His breathing hitched at the feeling, and he was not even inside her yet.

He pushed his hips; the thick tip parted the opening until it latched onto it fully making him growl softly at the feeling. Her walls were forced to part to accommodate his size when he was finally flushed against her.

Y/N whined at the feeling of being full. “Emmett,” she breathed, her fingers itched to hold onto something, to curl her fingers into it.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to her ear. “You’re such a good girl, taking my cock so well.” He murmured, praising her before he started thrusting, dragging his cock back and forth in her cunt.

The couch shifted slightly along with the force of the thrusts Emmett was using. His cock rubbed against the walls of her cunt, eventually rubbing against the spongey spot in her before he used one hand to slither down between their sweaty bodies, touching her cunt.

He was able to wring an orgasm from her with a playful but slightly harsh rubbing on her clit which sent her over the edge with a loud whine.

“You have to pull out,” she mumbled urgently after realizing he did not know she was not on any source of protection. How could she? After the world ended, no one really had the time to be safe especially with sex.

He chuckled hoarsely, “you don’t want my babies?” He asked, a teasing tone in his voice as he said it in her ear. “Don’t want me to fill that pretty pussy of yours with my cum?”

She whimpered as her walls clenched down on his cock as a response to the idea of him filling her up to the brim with his cum. “We just started this fifteen minutes ago.” She pointed out softly, referring to the moment they crossed the line together.

He pulled his head back to look down at her with stormy eyes, “I know, sweetheart.” He breathed before continuing, “but look where the world is at now, no one is going to say a word when they have more things to worry about. Besides…being pregnant with my babies…well, sweetheart you would look very pretty, not that you weren’t to begin with.”

“What if we don’t work out?” Y/N asked, voicing her fear.

He raked his eyes across her facial expression before peering into her eyes. “All we have to do is try because I meant what I said. You’re mine and I’m not letting you go. Okay?”

She then nodded.

He looked at her to see if there were still any more doubts she had, preparing himself to convince her, but he did see none which made him sigh in relief. “Good because I can’t hold back anymore,” he rumbled before he proceeded to fuck her thoroughly, slamming his cock into her with assertive strength to remind her that she was his.

His balls slapped against her cunt as he thrusted into her forcefully, wanting her to feel everything as he grunted, “my pretty girl.” Followed by, “all mine now.” He groaned into her ear when he felt her walls squeezing around his girth. “So good for me, sweetheart.” His hips began to stutter in an irregular manner indicating his impending orgasm, “I’ll take such good care of you.” He slammed into her as far as he could before spilling into her with a guttural groan.

#Emmett #emmett x reader #Emmett x you #Emmett x y/n #a quiet place #a quiet place 2 #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy

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