#Paul mescal imagines

[intoanotherworld23]

A Royal Throne

Summary: There’s no throne more worthy to sit on than Lucius’s face

Warnings: explicit content, mature content, smut, oral sex female receiving, face sitting, face grinding, mention of virgin reader, inexperienced reader, horny Lucius

A/N: hi my loves I know it’s been a couple months since I’ve been on here I’ve just been going through some stuff but I am back. I hope you guys enjoy this one and I encourage all of you to reblog and comment I would like to hear what everyone thinks! Appreciate everyone who’s supported me and continues to support me! If you wish to be added to a tag list it’s fully open so please don’t hesitate to ask! Thanks everyone! XOXO

Hall of Hunks

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Tag list for Paul Mescal/Lucius: OPEN

“Come here my little dove.” Lucius waving you over to him as he sat on the bed his legs spread prompting you to step between them. This position felt so intimate and warm it was very foreign to you. “Don’t be shy with me now.”

Lifting your silk dress and placing your legs on either side of his hips to sit on his lap. To your surprise though, he lays back and wraps his arms under your thighs pulling you upward. "What are you doing?"

"I am starving." He responds back, guiding your body up towards his face. Panic ensues and your inexperience starts to show when you have no idea what he’s about to do, or if you were gonna be able to do what he wanted. Pushing your body up so you were using the stone wall to hold yourself up.

“How can you be starving when you’ve eaten enough to feed an entire army?” Confused when he starts kissing along your inner thighs his facial hair tickling against your skin. Lucius could already smell your arousal, and was even more eager to dive in.

“Do you trust me?” He questions sensing your hesitation and nervousness. Judging by the look on your face you’ve never done this, and to be honest he was excited to be your first.

The first time you and Lucius laid eyes on each other the two of you have become inseparable. Even though he was a simple gladiator, and you were of royalty. That still didn’t stop the two of you from sneaking off into the dead of night. Knowing the risk if you two were caught, but something told you Lucius would always protect you.

“Of course I do Lucius.” Staring down at his face trying to sound confident, but you know he could hear your shaky voice.

“Then just follow my lead.” His head now positioned directly above your cunt. Licking his lips as he stared so intensely between your legs you felt like you could pass out. It just now hitting you what he was wanting you to do.

Nodding with him really doubting yourself, and just hoping whatever you were about to do was going to bring him immense pleasure. Holding your dress around your waist so you could watch what he was about to do. His thick hands holding onto your hips, and guiding you to sit on his face. His tongue right up against your cunt. A heat rising to your cheeks being in such a vulnerable position.

“I don’t want to suffocate you.” Anxiety bubbling over trying to lift yourself back up, and all he could do was smirk up at you.

“Then I shall die a true gladiators death.” He says before slamming you back down on his face. A gasp slipping past your lips at the sudden movement.

His tongue working furiously inside of you thrusting and swirling in all the right places. Finding yourself shamelessly riding his face without even realizing it. Gasps and whimpers leaving your lips echoing around the room hoping none of the servants heard. Lucius’s thumbs soothingly rubbing your already sweaty skin.

“Sweet as honeyed wine.” Muffling more to himself than you, but his words still held a grip on you.

“Oh gods.” Crying out as you looked down watching as he hungrily lapped at your cunt like he was a starved wild animal. One hand keeping your dress up while the other attached to his head a tight grip on his hair. All he could do was groan which vibrated against your clit.

Your orgasm was quickly approaching, and your entire body felt like it was on fire. You’ve never ever felt anything like this before. Lucius looked up at your remarkable expression, and it had him hard as stone. He loved holding your pleasure in his grasp, and made him feel like he had unlimited power.

“I’m close.” Rotating your hips as he thrusted his tongue as deep as he could the bridge of his nose brushing against your puffy clit. It was overwhelming as it felt like the room was spinning, and the walls were closing around you.

“Let go I am right here.” He encouraged as he started to suck on your clit. Holding you down refusing to let you go, and he just keeps going. It was everything that you never knew you needed. Throwing your head back as a cry of pleasure left your lips, and your thighs squeezing the sides of his head.

Listening as his tongue lapped up your juices, your legs shaking as he eased you through your orgasm. Using his chest to lift yourself off his face your legs feeling like noodles. Lucius adjusting his position so he was sitting upright his hands never leaving your hips as he made you sit back down on his lap. Watching in awe as he wiped his mouth his beard glistening under the blaze of the candles.

“My sweet little dove.” A hand reaching up to caress your cheek with a soft smile. Hands down by his hips as you mindlessly played with the fabric of his pants. “Now tell me, are you a virgin?”

[lazysoulwriter]

No In-Between - Paul Mescal.

The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the late afternoon sun, casting golden hues over the wooden floor and the mess of pillows and blankets scattered around. You lay on your back, arms stretched above your head, staring at the ceiling with a lazy smile. Paul was beside you, propped up on one elbow, tracing slow patterns over the fabric of your oversized hoodie—his hoodie, really, but you had stolen it so long ago that it was basically yours now.

“What are you thinking about?” he murmured, his voice laced with that familiar Irish lilt that always made your stomach flutter.

You turned your head to look at him, the golden light catching in his eyes, making them look impossibly warm. “Nothing important,” you replied, but the truth was, your mind had been a whirlwind of thoughts about him. About you. About this strange, wonderful thing that had been happening between you both.

Friendship had always been the foundation. From childhood, you and Paul had been inseparable. The media loved to romanticize your relationship, painting you as the ever-present best friend, the girl always by his side at premieres, at interviews, in candid paparazzi shots of him grabbing coffee or going for a run. You had laughed about it so many times, scrolling through online articles where people speculated about your status.

For the longest time, you had denied that there was anything more. It had been easy to, back then. But somewhere along the way, the lines had blurred. A drunken kiss at a party had turned into stolen moments behind closed doors. Touches that lingered too long, glances that spoke of something deeper. You weren’t just friends anymore, and you weren’t entirely lovers either. It was something in between. Something you didn’t have a name for.

But you knew, deep down, that it was love. It had always been love.

Paul sighed, rolling onto his back, mirroring your position. His hand found yours between the folds of the blanket, fingers lazily playing with yours. “You’re quiet today,” he observed.

You smiled, turning your head toward him again. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

Your heart hammered in your chest as you considered whether to say it. It was a joke, really. A casual, offhand remark that could be shrugged off if necessary. But the words burned on your tongue, demanding to be spoken.

“If it were up to you,” you began, your voice light, teasing, “we’d be dating already.”

For a second, silence stretched between you. You almost regretted saying it, your body tensing as you prepared to laugh it off. But then Paul exhaled a quiet chuckle, shifting onto his side to face you fully.

“Yeah,” he said simply. “We would.”

Your breath hitched. You had expected deflection, teasing, maybe even an awkward change of subject. But he had said it so naturally, so easily, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You swallowed, your fingers still intertwined with his. “Oh.”

Paul smiled, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand. “Surprised?”

“A little,” you admitted. “I mean, I didn’t think—I didn’t know you actually wanted that.”

He huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Are you serious? Christ, I thought I was being obvious.”

Your brows furrowed, your mind racing through the past few months. The way he kissed you like you were something precious. The way he touched you as if memorizing every inch of you. The way he looked at you, like he was seeing his whole world in front of him.

It had been obvious. You had just been too afraid to believe it.

“So...” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. “What now?”

Paul shifted closer, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin with the gentlest touch. “That depends,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “Do you want it too?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”

A slow, breathtaking smile spread across his lips, and before you could say anything else, he was kissing you. It wasn’t hurried or frantic; it was soft, deep, full of the unspoken feelings that had been simmering between you for so long. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours.

“Good,” he murmured. “Because I’m tired of pretending.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your fingers tightening around his. “Me too.”

Paul grinned, pressing another kiss to your lips, and in that moment, you knew. There had never been an in-between. There had only ever been this, pulling you toward each other all along.

[andy-15-07]

The Emperor's Healer

PAIRING: Lucius Verus Aurelius x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 3616 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Paul Mescal Masterlist

The midday sun cast long shadows across the marble courtyard of the palace. Y/n, her hands stained with herbs and her brow beaded with sweat, knelt beside a wounded legionary. Her fingers, deft and gentle, probed the angry gash in his arm, tracing the path of the barbarian’s blade. She murmured soothing words in rapid Latin, her voice a balm to the man’s pained whimpers.

Lucius Verus Aurelius, heir to the Roman Empire, watched from the shaded portico. He had seen many healers in his time, men and women skilled in the art of mending flesh. But there was something different about Y/n. It wasn’t just her skill, though that was undeniable. It was the compassion that shone in her eyes, the unwavering focus on the patient before her, the way she seemed to pour her very essence into the act of healing.

He had been drawn to her from the moment he first saw her tending to a fallen gladiator in the arena infirmary. The brutal spectacle of the games usually left him cold, but her presence had been a spark of humanity in the midst of the carnage. He had found himself lingering, watching her move with a quiet grace amidst the chaos, her face a mask of serene concentration.

Now, as he observed her in the courtyard, a strange restlessness stirred within him. He was a man accustomed to command, to the weight of empire resting on his young shoulders. Yet, in the presence of this unassuming healer, he felt… lighter. As if the burden of his destiny could be momentarily set aside.

He straightened his toga and descended the steps, his sandals echoing on the marble. Y/n glanced up, her brow furrowing slightly in concern. She recognized the imperial insignia on his tunic.

“Your Highness,” she murmured, rising to her feet. She kept her voice respectful but without the excessive deference he was used to. It was a subtle difference, but it intrigued him.

“Please, continue your work,” Lucius said, gesturing towards the wounded soldier. “I wouldn’t dream of interrupting.”

Y/n hesitated, then nodded and returned to her patient. Lucius watched as she resumed her ministrations, her touch feather-light as she applied a poultice to the wound.

“He will recover,” she said quietly, without looking up. “The wound is deep, but not fatal.”

“You are skilled,” Lucius observed.

“I have had good teachers,” Y/n replied, her voice neutral.

Lucius leaned against a nearby column, crossing his arms. “And what of you? Where did you learn your art?”

“From my mother,” Y/n said. “She was a healer in our village.”

“And your father?”

“He was a farmer.”

Lucius nodded slowly. He sensed a reticence in her, a subtle barrier she had erected. He was intrigued, not deterred.

“Tell me,” he said, changing tack. “What is the most challenging aspect of your work?”

Y/n finally looked up, her gaze meeting his. “The most challenging?” she echoed thoughtfully. “It is not the wounds themselves, Your Highness. It is the… the spirit. Sometimes, the body heals, but the spirit remains broken. That is the hardest thing to mend.”

Lucius considered her words. He had seen firsthand the toll that violence and hardship could take on a man’s spirit. He understood what she meant.

“And how do you mend a broken spirit?” he asked.

Y/n smiled faintly. “With kindness,” she said. “With compassion. With the understanding that even the strongest among us can be vulnerable.”

Lucius found himself drawn to her, not just by her skill and her compassion, but by her quiet strength. She was a woman of simple origins, yet she possessed a wisdom that surpassed his own.

He began to seek her out. He would find her in the infirmary, tending to the sick and injured. He would encounter her in the gardens, gathering herbs and flowers. He would even contrive to be “injured” – a minor scrape on his hand, a sudden “illness” – just to have an excuse to speak with her.

At first, their conversations were formal, constrained by the rigid protocols of the court. But slowly, as Lucius persisted, a fragile connection began to form between them. He learned about her life in the village, her love for her family, her dreams of one day establishing her own healing practice. She, in turn, learned about his struggles with the responsibilities of his position, the loneliness that often accompanied his imperial mantle.

One evening, Lucius found Y/n in the palace library, poring over a scroll. The library was his sanctuary, a place where he could escape the pressures of court life. He was surprised to find her there.

“You read?” he asked, approaching her.

Y/n looked up, startled. “Your Highness,” she murmured, quickly rising to her feet.

“Please,” Lucius said, waving his hand dismissively. “You needn’t be so formal when we are alone.”

Y/n hesitated, then sat back down, though she remained tense.

“I… I learned to read from the village priest,” she explained. “He was a kind man.”

Lucius nodded. He picked up the scroll she had been reading. It was a treatise on medicinal herbs.

“You are dedicated to your craft,” he observed.

“It is more than a craft, Your Highness,” Y/n said quietly. “It is my calling.”

Lucius looked at her, his gaze lingering on her face. He saw the passion in her eyes, the unwavering commitment to her work. He saw something else there as well, something that stirred a warmth within him.

“Y/n,” he said softly, using her name for the first time. “You are a remarkable woman.”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed slightly. She looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

Lucius reached out and gently took her hand. Her skin was warm and soft beneath his touch.

“I… I have come to admire you,” he confessed. “More than you know.”

Y/n finally looked at him, her eyes wide and questioning.

“Your Highness…” she began, but Lucius placed a finger to her lips, silencing her.

“Please,” he said. “Call me Lucius.”

From that moment on, their relationship began to change. They spent more time together, sharing meals, taking walks in the palace gardens, talking for hours about everything and nothing. Lucius found himself falling in love with Y/n, with her intelligence, her compassion, her unwavering spirit.

He knew that their relationship was unconventional, that it would raise eyebrows and cause whispers in the court. But he didn’t care. He was the heir to the Roman Empire, and he had finally found someone who saw him not as a prince, but as a man.

One starlit night, Lucius led Y/n to a secluded balcony overlooking the city. The air was filled with the scent of jasmine and the distant hum of the city.

He turned to her, his heart pounding in his chest. He took both of her hands in his.

“Y/n,” he began, his voice husky with emotion. “I… I love you.”

Y/n’s breath hitched. Tears welled up in her eyes.

“Lucius,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I…”

“Don’t say anything,” he said, interrupting her. “Just… let me say what I need to say.”

He knelt down on one knee, much to her surprise. He pulled a small, intricately carved wooden box from his tunic. He opened it to reveal a delicate silver bracelet.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Y/n gasped. She stared at him, her eyes filled with disbelief and joy.

“Lucius,” she finally managed to say, her voice choked with emotion. “Yes. Yes, I will.”

Lucius rose to his feet and slipped the bracelet onto her wrist. He pulled her close and kissed her, a kiss that spoke of love, of longing, of a future they would build together.

The announcement of Lucius and Y/n's betrothal sent ripples of shock and excitement through the Roman court. Some whispered in disapproval, citing Y/n's common birth and lack of noble lineage. Others, more pragmatic, recognized the genuine affection between the couple and hoped for a positive influence on the young emperor. Lucius, however, remained resolute. He would not be swayed by the murmurs of discontent. He loved Y/n, and that was all that mattered.

The preparations for the wedding began swiftly. The palace buzzed with activity. Seamstresses worked tirelessly on Y/n’s bridal gown, a masterpiece of shimmering silk, embroidered with delicate silver thread. Jewelers crafted a diadem of interwoven flowers and leaves, a symbol of Y/n’s connection to nature and healing. The grand hall of the palace was transformed into a breathtaking spectacle, adorned with garlands of fragrant blossoms and illuminated by thousands of flickering candles.

Y/n, despite the whirlwind of activity, remained grounded. She was grateful for the love and support of her family, who had been brought to Rome for the occasion. She missed her mother dearly, but she knew her spirit was with her. She also found solace in the company of Lucius. He would often steal away from the official duties to spend a few quiet moments with her, reassuring her and calming her nerves.

“Are you nervous?” he asked one afternoon, finding her in the palace gardens, amidst the fragrant rose bushes.

Y/n turned, a soft smile gracing her lips. “A little,” she admitted. “It is all so… grand.”

Lucius took her hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. “It is grand because it is for you,” he said. “You deserve all the beauty and splendor this world can offer.”

Y/n squeezed his hand, her heart swelling with love. “All I need is you, Lucius,” she whispered.

Lucius smiled, pulling her close. “And you have me,” he promised. “Always.”

The day of the wedding arrived, bathed in the golden light of the Roman sun. The streets leading to the palace were thronged with citizens, eager to catch a glimpse of the imperial couple. Inside the palace, the atmosphere was electric with anticipation.

Y/n, radiant in her bridal gown, walked slowly down the aisle, her father by her side. Her gaze was fixed on Lucius, who stood at the altar, his eyes filled with love and admiration. He was a vision of imperial splendor in his ceremonial toga, but it was the warmth in his eyes that truly captivated her.

The ceremony was a blend of ancient Roman traditions and personal touches. The high priest officiated, reciting the sacred vows. Lucius and Y/n exchanged rings, symbols of their eternal commitment. And then, they were pronounced husband and wife.

A roar of approval erupted from the assembled guests. Lucius took Y/n in his arms and kissed her, a kiss that sealed their love in the eyes of the world.

The celebrations that followed were lavish and joyous. Feasts were held, music filled the air, and dancers twirled in vibrant costumes. Lucius and Y/n moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations and best wishes. They were the picture of happiness, their love radiating outwards, touching all those around them.

As the day drew to a close, Lucius and Y/n slipped away from the festivities, seeking a moment of quiet together. They found themselves on the balcony where Lucius had first proposed, overlooking the city bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight.

“It is beautiful,” Y/n murmured, gazing at the twinkling lights below.

“Yes,” Lucius agreed, wrapping his arms around her. “But not as beautiful as you.”

Y/n leaned her head against his shoulder, a contented sigh escaping her lips. “I still can’t believe it,” she said. “I am your wife.”

Lucius chuckled softly. “Believe it,” he said. “Because it is true. And it is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

He turned her to face him, his eyes filled with tenderness. “Y/n,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I promise to love you, to cherish you, to honor you, for all the days of my life.”

Y/n’s eyes welled up with tears of happiness. “And I promise to love you, Lucius,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “With all my heart, for all eternity.”

They kissed, a kiss that spoke of their deep and abiding love, a love that had defied convention and blossomed against all odds. They were Lucius and Y/n, emperor and healer, husband and wife. And their love story, a testament to the power of the human heart, was just beginning.

The wedding feast dwindled, the boisterous music softened to a gentle melody, and the last of the well-wishers offered their congratulations. Lucius, his arm possessively around Y/n’s waist, felt a thrill of anticipation mixed with a tender affection. He glanced at his bride, her eyes sparkling with happiness and a hint of shy nervousness. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Are you ready, my love?”

Y/n blushed, but nodded, her hand tightening on his. She was nervous, yes, but also filled with a deep longing for the man she now called her husband.

They slipped away unnoticed, hand in hand, and made their way to the imperial bedchamber. It was a lavish room, decorated with rich tapestries and furnished with a magnificent four-poster bed. But tonight, it was not the opulence that mattered, but the intimacy it represented.

Lucius closed the door behind them, the soft click echoing in the quiet room. He turned to Y/n, his gaze filled with warmth and desire. He reached out and gently untied the intricate fastenings of her bridal gown, his fingers brushing against her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

Y/n stood still, her heart pounding in her chest, as Lucius slowly undressed her. She felt a mixture of shyness and excitement as his eyes traveled over her body, lingering on her curves. When she was finally free of her gown, she stood before him in a delicate silk chemise, her skin glowing in the soft candlelight.

Lucius’s breath hitched. He had never seen her so beautiful, so vulnerable. He reached out and gently cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs caressing her cheeks.

“You are breathtaking,” he whispered, his voice husky with emotion.

Y/n’s eyes met his, and she saw the depth of his love reflected in their depths. She reached up and touched his face, her fingers tracing the lines of his jaw.

“And you are magnificent,” she replied, her voice soft and breathy.

Lucius leaned in and kissed her, a slow, tender kiss that spoke of the deep connection between them. It was a kiss that promised passion, intimacy, and a lifetime of love.

He broke the kiss and gently lifted her into his arms. Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, her body pressed against his. He carried her to the bed and laid her down gently.

He undressed quickly, his movements urgent but careful. He didn’t want to rush this, but he couldn’t deny the burning desire that consumed him. He wanted to possess her, to merge with her, to become one with her.

He lay down beside her, his body close but not touching. He wanted to give her time, to let her adjust to this new intimacy. He reached out and took her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice low and concerned.

Y/n nodded, her eyes filled with a mixture of nervousness and desire. “Yes,” she whispered. “I want this, Lucius. I want you.”

Lucius smiled, relief washing over him. He leaned in and kissed her again, this time with more passion, more urgency. His hands moved over her body, exploring her curves, awakening her senses.

Y/n moaned softly, her body arching towards him. She had never felt so alive, so desired. She reached out and touched him, her fingers tracing the contours of his body.

Lucius groaned, his control slipping. He could feel the heat rising between them, the anticipation building to a fever pitch. He wanted to take things slowly, to savor every moment, but he couldn’t deny the burning need that consumed him.

He moved on top of her, his weight supported on his arms. He looked down at her, his eyes filled with love and desire.

“Y/n,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with passion. “My love.”

Y/n reached up and pulled his head down, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was both tender and urgent. She wanted him, she needed him, she craved the feeling of his body against hers.

Lucius broke the kiss and looked down at her, his eyes filled with a burning desire. He knew that she was a virgin, that this was her first time. He wanted to be gentle, to make it as painless as possible.

He kissed her again, his tongue tracing the outline of her lips. He moved his hand down her body, exploring her curves, awakening her senses. Y/n moaned softly, her body arching towards him.

He reached between her legs and gently touched her, his fingers finding her center. Y/n gasped, her body tensing. He knew that she was close, that she was ready.

He moved his hips against hers, slowly at first, then with increasing urgency. Y/n cried out, her nails digging into his back. He felt her tighten around him, her body convulsing with pleasure.

He continued to move, his pace quickening, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He felt himself reaching the edge, the pleasure building to an unbearable intensity. He cried out her name, his body shuddering as he reached his climax.

He collapsed on top of her, his body heavy against hers. He could feel her heart beating against his chest, her breath coming in short gasps. He kissed her softly, his lips lingering on hers.

They lay there for a long moment, their bodies intertwined, their hearts beating as one. The silence was broken only by the sound of their breathing.

Lucius rolled onto his side, pulling Y/n with him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He kissed her forehead, his heart overflowing with love.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/n snuggled into his arms, her head resting on his chest. “I love you too,” she whispered back.

They lay there for a long time, wrapped in each other’s arms, lost in the afterglow of their lovemaking. The world outside faded away, and they were alone, just the two of them, bound together by the intimacy they had just shared. Y/n, still nestled against Lucius's chest, felt a profound sense of peace and belonging. She traced lazy patterns on his chest, her fingers finding comfort in the warmth of his skin.

"Lucius," she whispered, her voice soft and drowsy.

"Hmm?" he murmured, his hand stroking her hair.

"That was..." she paused, searching for the right words. "Wonderful."

Lucius chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "It was, wasn't it?"

Y/n lifted her head, her eyes meeting his. "I never imagined it would be like that," she confessed.

"Like what?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

"So... intense," she said, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. "So... consuming."

Lucius smiled. "That's passion, my love," he explained, his voice tender. "It's the fire that burns between us."

"It was a bit frightening at first," Y/n admitted, "but then..."

"Then?" Lucius prompted, his fingers gently tilting her chin up.

"Then it was like... like being swept away by a wave," she said, her eyes sparkling. "Like losing myself in the current."

Lucius leaned down and kissed her forehead. "That's what love does," he whispered. "It sweeps you away, carries you to places you never knew existed."

Y/n sighed contentedly. "I love you, Lucius," she said, her voice filled with sincerity.

"And I love you, Y/n," he replied, his voice husky with emotion. "More than words can say."

They fell silent again, but it was a comfortable silence, filled with the unspoken language of love. Y/n snuggled closer to Lucius, her body molding to his. She felt safe and secure in his arms, as if nothing in the world could harm her.

"Lucius," she said after a while, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, my love?"

"Do you think... do you think we'll have children?" she asked, her voice hesitant.

Lucius smiled. "I hope so," he said, his voice filled with warmth. "I would love to have children with you, Y/n. Children who inherit your kindness and your strength."

Y/n's heart swelled at his words. She closed her eyes, imagining a future filled with children's laughter and the warmth of family.

"I would like that very much," she said softly.

Lucius leaned down and kissed her, a long, slow kiss that spoke of their shared dreams and hopes for the future. He held her close, his body a protective shield around her.

"We'll have a family, Y/n," he promised, his voice filled with conviction. "A family that will defy all expectations, a family that will be a testament to our love."

Y/n smiled, her eyes filled with tears of happiness. She knew that Lucius would keep his promise, that he would always be there for her, that their love would endure through all the trials and tribulations that life might throw their way.

As the first rays of dawn crept through the window, painting the room in a soft golden light, Lucius and Y/n lay entwined in each other's arms, their bodies exhausted but their spirits soaring. They had found love in the most unexpected of places, a love that had defied convention and blossomed against all odds. And as they drifted off to sleep, their hands clasped tightly together, they knew that their love story was just beginning, a story that would be told and retold through the ages, a story that would inspire and uplift generations to come.

[sadprose-auroras]

'Dulcissima' - Lucius Verus x Fem!Reader SMUT

dulcissima: Latin; my sweetest

A/N: My god. I saw Gladiator 2 yesterday, and this utter filth just came pouring out of me. A major shoutout to everyone who has BEEN writing for this character, I just had to contribute my little part. Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Also take a shot every time I mention his big blue eyes and massive arms like hello I'm sorryyyy can you blame me!!! Also it starts off a bit shaky but trust me stick with it! I just can't not have some kind of backstory y'know

Word count: 3.3k

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut, breeding kink, brief size kink, cumplay, vague oral fixation, brief mentions of colonisation and injury

RATING: 18+. By clicking 'read more,' you are confirming that you are 18+

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Pressing the cloth against his skin made him wince, the muscles in his arm jump, and though you typically would not, you pulled it away.

“I’m sorry, but I must,” you said gently, and it occurred to him that nobody had treated him with such humanity and sweetness in such a long time. “It will be over soon.”

You continued to clean his wound as gently as possible, trying to ignore the heat emanating off his body simply due to your proximity. To distract him, you decided to make conversation. You were no stranger to what it felt like to be a slave. For your home to be destroyed, to be dehumanised in such a monstrous way.

“Hanno, where is your home?” you ask, as you continue to work.

“My home no longer exists,” he said with a level of defensiveness, eyes lowering to the floor. “Not as it once did.”

“My ancestral lineage hail from Aduatuci. My parents, my parents’ parents, have all been slaves. We do not know any different,” you said. “But I have dreams of a free Rome, one of hope. I have heard of it, and I know it can exist. If not for myself, then maybe for my future children.”

The lilt of hope in your voice softened his shoulders immediately, and he finally made eye contact with you.

“Numidia. Numidia was my home. I was taken as a slave as they took our land. I will not know peace until I see the world you speak of.” You nodded with understanding, carefully placing your hand on his knee. His demeanour was completely different to the survival instincts you witnessed in the stadium. He was kind, gentle.

“I believe we can fight for that kind of world,” you reassured.

Once you finished tending to him, you gathered your supplies and stood up to leave.

“May the Gods bless you, Hanno,” you said. He reached out to grab your hand as you turned to leave, a lightning bolt of electricity shooting through you. You turned back.

“Wait,” he said, letting your hand go. “Will you come and see me tonight? Please? I could do with some company.” The vulnerability in his bright eyes made your heart melt.

“Of course.”

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

Somehow, yourself and Hanno developed a bond. It became a cycle. Each time he was forced into the arena, you watched with a pit in your stomach, tears welling in your eyes. Each time he was victorious, the relief that flooded through you was incomparable. Afterwards, you would tend to his wounds, talking about your hopes and dreams for the future. He would speak of his life back home, tell you all about his childhood and his father.

Each night, you would sneak into his cell to talk more. It had dawned on you that he was your only friend. The only person who had ever understood you.

One night after a horrifying battle in the arena, you snuck in to see him. Drawing your hood down, you nodded to the guard at the door who allowed you through. He had also become an ally to you both, closing the door behind you and moving away to give you some privacy.

Hanno, or Lucius, as he had recently revealed to you was his name by birth, was sitting with his hands clasped together, gazing thoughtfully at the floor, a crease between his brows. When he saw you, his leg ceased shaking and he stood up to embrace you. His strong arms engulfed you, and you immediately relaxed at the familiar feeling. The prospect of losing the familiarity between you was becoming more and more frightening to you. An air of heaviness clouded this particular visit. It felt different this time.

“I am so happy to see you,” he breathed out, pulling away, caressing your arm. Casual touches between you were comfortable and common, especially considering you were required to touch him all the time when tending to his injuries. And yet, every single time, a shiver ran down your spine. Likewise, every time he pulled away, you could feel yourself physically tense once again. He made you feel like you could breathe.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” you murmured, your bottom lip trembling, with what you weren’t entirely sure. It was like every time you saw him, your inhibitions were lowered more and more. You spoke without thinking, acted without speaking. It was dangerous.

“Oh now, dulcissima.” His hand caught at your chin, raising your head to look at him. Your heart immediately began racing rapidly, face flushing. The endearing term all the permission you finally needed, you gently cupped his face, gazing into his stark blue eyes, his long lashes. They stood out against the dirt on his face, the stained red blood smeared across his forehead. A shiver ran through you as his eyes flickered in pleasure.

“Han-“ you began. “Lucius,” you settled on for now. You could never decide what to call him. Either way, he was still the same. Strong, tender, solid, beautiful. Yours.

“I will always be yours, can you not see? This life and the next. You cannot lose me.”  

Unable to come up with any eloquent answer, you decided actions were more powerful. As if your lips had a mind of their own, you raised up ever so slightly on your toes to kiss him, your lips slotting together perfectly. His kiss was soft and gentle as you tested out the feeling with one another, his hands moving to protectively cup the sides of your face, thumb stroking your cheek making you exhale through your nose. Your lips explored his, moving together in perfect harmony, coming up for air every few moments.

Your head was spinning with desire, everything else in the world fell away when he kissed you. His hands had moved into your hair, fingers threading through it, not quite pulling. Your hands seemed to have a mind of their own, running all over his bare back, sides and chest. The feeling of the hard muscle underneath your fingertips, especially when you could feel it jump with sensitivity, made you want to lick your wet tongue all over his body. You wanted, needed, to devour every inch of him.

Hanno’s kisses grew hungrier by the minute, hands massaging and tugging your hair now, pulling it free from its style. You moaned into his mouth, which made him pull away for a moment and press a finger to your lips.

“You must be quiet, dulcissima.” You fought the urge to buckle your knees at the sound of such a sweet term in his rough voice.

“I know,” you murmured against his finger, absentmindedly scratching your nails down his back as you spoke, revelling in the way his mouth opened slightly at the feeling, eyelashes fluttering. “I will be, I promise.”

“Do you?” he asked, finger now teasing at the entrance of your mouth. You nodded ever so slightly, taking his finger in your mouth, swirling it with your tongue. You closed your eyes, coating his finger in wetness, moving your mouth up and down exploringly.

“Mmmhmm,” you moaned as an answer around his finger. The way he was watching you with hooded eyes, bottom lip taken between his teeth, was making the wetness pooling between your thighs impossible to ignore. He gazed at you as if you hung the stars, as if you were a goddess he was worshipping.

You took your mouth off his finger with a pop, and he began to trace it down your throat slowly, leaving a trail of your own spit. You trembled under his touch, lifting your chin to allow him more access. He reached the swell of your breasts, continuing down between them. You pushed your garments down off your shoulders, arched your back to close the gap between you, chest heaving in desperation. You would feel pathetic if it was anybody else. But he made you feel so safe. You could completely be yourself, express your desires.

“My Lucius, my strong one, please,” you breathed, hungry hands now tugging at his hair. “I need you to take me. Make me forget everything. I want to only remember you.”

Without warning, he swept you up in his arms, a gasp escaping your lips, as he expertly laid you down, hovering above you. You took a moment to take him in; his pink, pillowy lips, tousled hair, scruff beard, shining eyes. Not even the midnight sky, nor a sunset, or a shimmering ocean, was so breathtaking.  

“My love,” he scanned your face, causing your heart to skip a beat. “My love,” he repeated himself, beginning to kiss down your neck over your shoulder, across the top of your breasts, sucking and nibbling. Your entire body filled with goosebumps, and you briefly considered that you were not being nearly as quiet as you had hoped. It was so difficult when he was making you feel this overcome with ecstasy.

“I need to feel your skin on mine,” you whispered, tugging at his clothing. He lifted himself off you, standing before you. He removed his loincloth, tossing it aside, his erection standing before you. Your mouth watered as you took the sight of him in, face becoming impossibly hot. His manhood was proportionately large and thick, much like the rest of his broad, toned body. It made you feel so delicate in comparison. Various images flashed in your mind’s eye. A large, strong hand coming down hard on your ass. The other wrapped around your throat. His back muscles flexing as he pounded into you from behind, his hand over your mouth to keep you from screaming.

“You are so-“ you began to say, but couldn’t find the right words. Before you could finish your thought, he moved towards you again.

“Can I undress you?” he asked, hands moving steadily down your clothed body. You nodded vigorously.

“Please,” you squirmed, fluttering your lashes at your love. He motioned for you to sit up so he could pull your tunic off your head, placing it on the floor. You were left entirely bare, and if it were anybody else in front of you, you would feel self-conscious. But the way his fingertips gently stroked your sides, his big blue eyes bore into yours with care and understanding, made you feel like a goddess yourself.

“I want to worship you,” he began, covering his body with yours, mouth covering one of your breasts. “Lay you on an altar and pray over every single part of your body,” he murmured as he took your nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue. You gasped, hands gripping his shoulders for stability.

“Tell me what else,” you whispered.

“Well,” he said between wet kisses over to your other breast. “Once I worshipped you, my goddess,” he said as he began to suck on your other nipple, tweaking the first with his fingers, making you arch your back. “I would then ravage you,” he said, not giving you a chance to respond except to moan into his mouth as he kissed you, the kiss all tongue and desperation. His beard was scratching at your delicate skin deliciously. You ached to feel this on your thighs.

You began to grind against his body as you kissed, attempting to relieve some frustration. You could feel his hardness pressing into your stomach, and it made your mouth water.

“Lucius,” you groaned into his mouth, perhaps a little too loudly.

Shhhhhh, he placed his hand over your mouth, tutting at you. He kept his hand there, his other one tracing a line down your stomach. Your entire body was shaking as you spread your legs apart, drops of wetness falling down your thighs.

“Quiet, my love,” he whispered, one singular finger finally, ever so gently, tracing your folds. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, bucking up into his hand. You needed more.

He noticed his reaction, groaning to himself. He couldn’t help but give you what you wanted. He used two fingers to apply more pressure, running up and down your soaked folds, hitting your clit and making your body twitch each time. He watched in amazement as you writhed in both desperation and pleasure, guiding his hand with your bodily movements.

Something switched in you at that moment, and you pushed his hand off your mouth, flipping yourselves over so you were now hovering above him.

“I need you in my mouth, lest I die,” you said breathlessly. He looked amused at your dramatics, but you felt his cock twitch against you.

“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” he said, and you both chuckled. Wordlessly, you turned yourself around so your pussy was over his face, his cock standing proudly in front of you. It was throbbing, looking almost painful. It made you love him even more, that he wanted you this badly.

“So beautiful,” you murmured, using your thumb to swipe the precum dribbling out of his head, licking it curiously. His deep growl was animalistic, and you felt his nails digging into your ass as he took you in his mouth, devouring you just as he promised. Simultaneously, you moaned as you licked a stripe up the underside of him, spitting a generous amount before slowly taking him into your mouth.

Being unable to see him only made you feel closer, as you could feel his mouth reacting to what you were doing. At the same time, his suctioning and licking of your pulsing clit, licking up and down your folds, was making you groan against him, the reverberation contributing to his pleasure. You began to grind your hips against his face in rhythm with your head bobbing up and down, eyes fluttering open and closed in bliss. His beard scratching against your inner thighs was painfully delicious, even more so than your imagination. You could barely breathe with how fast you were taking him in your mouth, but you did not care.

When he took your clit between his teeth and gently tugged, you gasped in pleasure, making you gag. You pulled him out of your mouth, a line of spit following. You felt the vibrations of him laughing against you. You turned around so you were face-to-face again, your legs trembling.

“Did that feel good, my darling?” he asked, unable to help himself from drawing circles on your bundle of nerves with two fingers as he spoke.

“I-Oh-So-G-Good,” you choked out.

“Would you like me inside of you?” he asked, teasing your entrance with his fingers.

“Yes, please,” you begged. He wasted no time in flipping you over once again, using his strength to pull your legs up onto his broad shoulders, your ankles intertwining behind his neck.

“I am yours, yours, yours,” he repeated like a mantra. “Yours,” the last one came out with a groan, as he swiftly entered you halfway. Your breath was taken away in the best possible way, his thickness impossibly stretching you out.

“You’re so big,” you moaned, shaking your head, inadvertently clenching around him. He gritted his teeth.

“It feels so right. So right to be this close to you. I need you every day, every night, all the time,” he rambled, as he pushed all the way into you, bottoming out. You nodded rapidly in agreeance, finding it difficult to speak.

“Is that okay?” he asked, intertwining your fingers together above your head. You nodded again, licking your lips. Your mouth had gotten a little dry from hanging open in pleasure.

“I want you to fill me up like this forever,” you answered, tossing your head side to side deliriously. “I will always need you.”

Something flickered in Lucius’ eyes. He dropped one of your hands, instead pinning both of your wrists down with one hand. He used the other hand to draw circles on your clit, as he began to move inside you. Slowly, gently at first, but not for long.

Before you knew it, it felt as it he was going to split you apart. He was grunting with each thrust, your promises to keep quiet entirely forgotten. The rhythmic sound of your wetness as he moved in and out of you echoed throughout the cell, and it was quite possibly the most melodic sound he had ever heard. You could feel him deep within you, hitting your cervix which took your breath away each time.

Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, the veins in his arms protruding out. You moved your hands so he was no longer holding your wrists down, and he complied immediately. You needed to touch him. With shaking hands, you ran your fingertips all over his chest and stomach, feeling the muscles flexing with each thrust. You worked your way up over his shoulders, up his neck and into his hair, then back down to his arms. You dug your nails into his biceps, surely leaving marks.

“Fill me up with your seed, dulcissime,” you echoed his sentiment from earlier. “Make me ripe with a child so that we may carry on a hopeful legacy for generations to come.”

He groaned, profanities escaping his mouth in a deep, guttural voice.

“Say that again,” he demanded, fingers still circling your swollen, aching clitoris.

You gripped his hair in your hands, pulling him close to whisper in his ear.

“Get me pregnant, dulcissime. I need your hot, sticky seed inside of me.”

This undid both of you. You reached for one another, mouths slotting together in harmony. You stifled your moans with kisses, as you felt him spill inside you and warm you up. The feeling sent you over the edge, as you pulled his hair even harder to steady yourself. A warmth flowered all the way from your sternum to your extremities, your pussy pulsing around him as you rode out the high. Your entire body felt like it was floating, spots clouding your vision.

“My love, my darling,” Hanno murmured, his stomach rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. You kissed again, as he cupped your face gently.

Wordlessly, he gently, achingly, pulled himself from inside of you, and you both watched in awe as the point where your bodies met were no longer together. His seed was dribbling out of you, coating you and making you itch.

“Can I clean you up?” he asked gruffly, barely waiting for an answer as you sighed out, “God, yes,” as he moved down your body so his face was crowding between your thighs. He licked a swipe up you, making your entire body twitch with aftershock. You practically screamed, the overstimulation almost too much to handle. Almost. You shoved your fist into your mouth to stifle the noises.

You watched through hooded eyes as he licked up every drop of his own seed, grinding onto his face, chasing the pleasure. You were delirious, not a single thought in your mind beside Lucius. When he was finished, he wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb, and you moaned out loud at the sight. He returned to kiss you once more, and you could taste the familiar taste on his tongue, making your stomach swoop with desire.

Pulling away for a moment, he rolled over onto his back, pulling you with him so you were folded into his side, leg draped over his, his large arms engulfing you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your sweaty temple, wildly juxtaposing his actions from mere moments ago.

He gazed down at you with those incredible eyes, sighing blissfully. He moved a piece of hair from your face as he spoke his next words.

“I hope you know I meant every word, dulcissima. I want to build a future with you, for you, for our children. I vow to always protect you.”

You pressed a sweet kiss to his lips.

“We will build our home together,” you replied. And for the first time, the future you imagined, a future full of hope and possibility, felt closer than ever before.

[ay0nha]

Don't Bite the Hand That Feeds | Lucius Verus Aurelius

SUMMARY: "Your brethren trust you, you are the embodiment of redemption.” They spoke around Lucius, spewing anything in hopes of saturating his mind.  “Where is your image of hope? Where is the person who will relieve you of the grief you share with your people? Where is your Empress?"

PAIRING: Lucius Verus Aurelius x f!reader (arranged marriage for political reasons)

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

WARNINGS: canon-typical things, not much, mentions of alcohol, old-timey language, Google-accurate Roman empire things, dancing, arranged marriage, talks of lineage, angsty-ish, quotes from various people like Nina Simone and Octavia Butler sprinkled into dialogue,  etc. 

A/N:  I quickly wrote this in a few days with the amazing help of @astrd00. This is just sort of an introduction to my fic idea so apologies if it's a little boring. Arranged marriage trope sort of colleagues to friends to lovers. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future parts. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE comment it really helps me to keep going! More to come, enjoy!

The Latin translates to: a water drop hollows a stone, not by force but by frequent falling.

Everyone clung to the fog of death in the air with stiff fingers, unwilling to let their proof of newly promised freedom go. They celebrated in the streets, disregarding the savagery that occurred only months ago. The public enjoyed the amnesia, looking to Lucius not solely for responsibility but as a new object to place culpability. 

Yet, the heaviness permeated Lucius’ marrow. He hid it well behind the mask of authority. Even a sharp eye would miss the way it restrained him, intentionally ignorant of a flaw in their new leader.

It might have even been seen as a strategic move, a way to humanize the gladiator who seemed to defy the Gods. Strategy outside the arena was new, different from the portrayed brute that dusted his hands with sand. What lay in his palms now was similar to that of a child’s heart, beating rapidly with a not-yet-known burden of life. It was heavy and warm, begging for unwavering loyalty from its possessor. 

Lucius remained delicate with his hold, but the heart wanted more from him. Strength and honor would soon no longer suffice. It needed sustenance worthy of devotion and destruction. His eyes were steady on this phantom heart until those around him required his attention. 

“Emperor—” A magistrate repeated, voice raising enough to tease an echo. The new title sat heavily on Lucius’ shoulders, contorting his body into a position that mimicked Atlas.   “Our suggestion should not be taken lightly, it is for the prosperity of your Rome.”

Scrutiny wasn’t found in his tone or bitterness behind the remark but rather in genuine regard. However, there was an intention behind the ownership of Rome, a hint at the generational promise.  

“The public can wonder, speculate, but they do not see beyond the issue.” He continued, watching the twitch on Lucius’ face. “You may not like the mere thought, but gutta cavat lapidem, non vi sed saepe cadendo.” The magistrate paused, his words lingering. “How much longer until Rome is hollow once again?”

“This order is a fallacy.” Lucius finally made contact, eyes surveying those around him. “There is a need for trust, yes. And yet, you ask for deception?” 

“You misunderstand us, Emperor.” Another member of the senate spoke, hoping to alleviate tension. “There would be no deception in this union, only fortification of the reigning; an image for the people to find themselves in.”

 “Your brethren trust you, you are the embodiment of redemption.” They spoke around Lucius, spewing anything in hopes of saturating his mind.  “Where is your image of hope? Where is the person who will relieve you of the grief you share with your people? Where is your Empress?”

—

You smiled through the wine-fueled chattering of the ceremony, appeasing those who had just witnessed your union, but your focus moved beyond the conversation and revelry.  Above you was a darkened sky that mimicked night. Rain poured down, tempting you to fall prey to its numbing hold. 

The Gods are favoring your union, you were told when the sky opened. Divine intervention.  

But you knew the Gods were fickle, always testing your will against temptation. It was a test sent for you, one that an elaborate wedding and an emperor declaring your shared existence hid well. 

So you ignored the call of the humidity, being dutiful to your new role as empress. People bowed to you and nearly cried at how beautifully you paired with your new counterpart. Even as you sat on the marble throne beside Lucius you couldn’t deny their exactness. 

“Don’t worry, they’ll soon pass out from the wine.” You spoke softly, eyes ahead at your guests as you spoke to your husband. His grip on your hand fidgeted exposing his anxiety.  

Lucius paused, determining if honesty was worthwhile. His self-awareness was enough to remind him how unfamiliar he was with the environment that consumed his senses. 

“It is for them.” You nodded ahead to the crowd. The room was hot from the amount of bodies swirling around.   “Remind yourself of this when their faith falters.”

Lucius looked at you, attention trained on your profile. Even with a soft veil over your features, you were so absolute. 

“I know my purpose here. You are still learning yours.” You continued. “All I ask of you is that when they falter you place your trust in our bond.”

“I will place it where it is due.” There was your gladiator. The defiance comforted you. 

“Those around you are untroubled by that; all they crave is to spit on the fallen. It doesn’t matter if you are one of them, they are quick to turn.” You sharpened. “Be careful; join the sinful and you will be remembered with spite and desperation.”

You spoke of hidden things, of politics that lingered like venom in the bloodstream of the empire. Lucius knew not to mistake your words for ulterior motives. You were direct in your vows to further his image of a new Rome, it was why you were chosen to be by his side. Your mind was clear. You read the room perfectly, unraveling every detail of what was inherited. 

“My legacy does not motivate me,” Lucius stated. His ears attuned to you and you only, enraptured in how deeply you spoke as if it was a common thought. “I will not look to them for fame.” 

“You will, conscious or not. And once you do, you will not be able to look away.” You smiled pitifully as though you knew something he didn’t. “Just as they watched you fight, you misunderstand the impact of what is before you.”

“You believe that little of me?” There was a swirl of censure in his chest despite the small smile pulling at his lips.  

“There is opportunity to win, but that is a fool’s goal—

“To win?” Lucius scoffed. “Even you have been mislead, then. Thinking that there is a conquest waiting to happen.”

“I do not wish to insult you.” Your thumb adjusted against his fingers. It was in your nature to be candid, but at times you placed your frustrations unfairly. You softened. “Your promise of growth will help amend this.”

Lucius wished to pull away from you. He needed to think, to be separated from the feigned festivities adjoined to love. This was love; love created not between two people, but shared by you and him for Rome. 

That was not to say you were birds of a feather. 

Your strengths were found in your experience. Although young, you were no novice to how to hold your chin high while delivering truths to the senate. You learned from your uncle, an official who raised you on the true meaning of government. You were clever. The public viewed you as such. You were of noble status and fit to stand before them. 

What you lacked was a specific connection that Lucius brought to the people. He was one of them, raised humbly, hands worn from the earth’s harvest and war forced upon him. Lucius spoke well to them, building comradery with every way of life. 

“I would never ask you to compromise your beliefs. I know better than to think you’d behave.” You teased at his rebellion, hoping the guard that was up would calm. “Besides, a well-mannered lover is an offense.”

 “We are not lovers.” It was sterile in tone but revealed emotions long since buried.

“And we are not enemies.” You were quick, reading between his words to find the insult. 

“My lord!” A raspy voice begged for attention. “My lady!” 

You stood, bowing politely to the affluent man before you. He took advantage of the night; jewels adorned every finger that pulled at the elaborate fabric of his outfit. 

“It is time.” The rasp withered when he lowered to speak to you directly. His arms went wide as if inviting a hug, but he spun skillfully to face the audience. 

“Time?” Lucius looked to you. 

The man boomed over the forgotten rain. ““It is time!” 

Standing, you didn’t release Lucius’ hand. There was resistance on his end, wanting to remain sedentary and silent to wait out the rest of the night. 

“Our dance.” You answered to his wide eyes. Your guests cheered, clearing space. “It is customary to rise together and move as one. It will complete the ceremony.”

He rose at your words, not much of a choice otherwise than to follow. 

The fabric of your dress swam behind you, kissing the floor with each step toward the middle of the marble floor. The dress looked like water cascading down your body, hiding each bend and swell of your body. Yet, it highlighted something else, something deeper. It was subtle but powerful, like the way a garden seemed to breathe life into a space. 

“May the rain create a river to fertility.” The man held a contagious grin that spread around the room. 

Prosperity and posterity.  This is what they wanted. Lucius alone was not enough. The bloodline was more important than a single figure. It hadn’t needed to be discussed as it was the obvious forethought for your unification. 

The officials of the republic were more concerned about your fecundity and frame than the knowledge you held. It was a typical belief, one that you expected. Your fingers itched to bring your willingness to support the new decree to play and if this was your path to it, so be it.  

You remained clinical at the thought. It was a means to an end rather than something to be meditated on. The way Lucius hardened at the man’s words told a story from another perspective where the political became personal. You did not miss the ring on his pinky that rubbed against a new gold one. 

“Does the great gladiator know how to dance?” Your voice flowed to Lucius only knowing the opportunity rarely presented itself. 

The music shifted from something fast-paced to something more melodic that would encourage you both to move swiftly but attractively. You knew your words would hit a nerve, but it was strategic to motivate Lucius’ hesitant hands. 

“It is a back and forth. A push and pull.” You guided your hand to press against his palm, meeting together as if you were to pray. “Just like the arena, no?”

Lucius’ eyebrows pinched together. Not out of curiosity or frustration. He was genuine in his response. 

“Rarely is a touch this…subdued.” Soft.  

“Shall I spin you in circles, then?” Your painted lips were easier to see now that Lucius was close. He saw as they rose through your veil with the quip. “Disorientate you to the point of submission?”

Your arms weaved behind your back still connected to Lucius’. The dance was simple, one practiced as children. There were very few steps and wistful gestures that even the familiar still enjoyed. 

“Those are my only options? Coercion or blind fealty.” 

It left little room for interpretation or defiance. The statement came without hesitation but held pent-up sentiment veiled by familiar poise. You vetted his blank gaze for proper determination of his upset. 

It was odd to see Lucius so close, your memory had failed to cast such a strong light on him. Once overgrown hair had been trimmed to only curl at the nape of his neck. Dirt was cleared from every line of his face.  He was still rugged, but you saw through the exterior to find a boy.  

A boy who had been stripped of child-like wonderment and care. Instead, he held his broad shoulders high and an expression that lingered from his exile. Lucius’ skin perked every time your dress acted as a barrier between the two of you, a warning that whatever you offered had to be earned.  

“I do not ask much of you, Emperor...” You put it simply, knowing your worth and wisdom. You needed to be promised his word that against anything you would be beside each other.  “...so I will not ask again.”

“You are not satisfied with the trust of the marriage alone,” Lucius stated his question like an observation. “You wish I promise myself to you in ways which I may not be able to provide.” 

“Able or willing?” 

Your faces were close, noses mirroring each other as you turned on beat.  You could feel the warmth of your frustration start in your chest, only to spread across your skin as goosebumps.  

“The past and the future press so hard on either side that there’s no room for the present at all.” You spoke again before he could answer.  “You must decide where you belong.” 

The music returned to Lucius’ ears. Its melody weighed down your words, letting them settle deeply in his mind. His head spun with thoughts busy on reasoning.  Perhaps he was too guarded for his own good, but he’d gotten himself this far relying only on himself. He had held in a great deal. Often he felt he couldn't speak until the waters overflowed their banks and broke through the dam. 

Those around him garnered support, but this was different. You understood what freedom was; it meant no fear. Fear rolled right off of you. Fear was like a pet to you: something you picked up to get a better look at but that you soon grew tired of.

The music slowed coming to an end. Lucius removed his hands from your body but didn’t venture far. His calloused fingertips followed the seam of your soft veil to meet the laced end. Once there, he gently revealed your true manner. 

Your features were accentuated by an internal glow. There was no modesty in your gaze, it shattered any notion of strength. There was no insight into your emotions. What Lucius found was someone gifted. It was a marvel he hadn’t heard of you until you presented yourself as the wise option for him to marry. 

Although you ran in many circles, your name wasn’t whispered among the council. They didn’t believe beauty and wit could fit within the reach of a woman. Yet, here you stood. A new challenge to be accepted. Lucius resisted the urge to swallow quick breaths as if he were going to endure a blow from Viggo. His body agitated in preparation, but looking at you so wholly all he could muster was concession.

 “You have my word.”

[starkwlkr]

linger | paul mescal

an: FOR 🇮🇪 IRELAND 🇮🇪 yes this is named after a cranberries song ily dolores o’riordan rip

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f1gossip red bull driver, y/n l/n, was spotted out in los angeles with her group of friends. while taking photos with fans, someone asked her if carlos did give paul mescal her phone number and she replied with “I’m still waiting, i think paul’s taking his sweet time.”

it’s rumored that paul will attend the las vegas grand prix, do you think these two will meet? will we have a new couple making their paddock debut? let us know in the comments!

y/nstyle i better not see paul mescal fans attack y/n

formulaelle i’m going to start gatekeeping

mescalstyles you’re going to gatekeep a famous driver? A FAMOUS DRIVER? because she’s rumored to be in a relationship with an actor

formulaelle and i’ll do it again

francolapinto no

maxsupermax excuse me?

russellgeorg3 WHY IS HE HERE

y/nupdates um what??

ferraridepressionclub no to what? i need answers

francolapinto no

ferraridepressionclub ok king

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liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and others

scuderiaferrari vegas brings out the stars!⭐️

f1elllyyyy one step closer to paul and y/n meeting omg

yourusername i love ireland 🇮🇪🍀🍻

carlossainz55 i heard ireland loves you too

charles_leclerc i want to go to ireland

leclercstype dude i don’t think they’re actually talking about the country

charles_leclerc i still want to go

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Las Vegas Grand Prix

The second Carlos introduced Paul and Y/n, he declared himself Cupid. The Irishman and the driver could not stop talking even though Y/n had media duties to attend to. Carlos excused himself once Y/n started talking about wanting to visit Ireland soon, with Paul offering to show her around.

“You see that? That’s all me.” Carlos told Charles as they walked back to the Ferrari garage.

“Well isn’t that nice of you,” Charles chuckled then looked back at the potential couple. “Do you think Y/n will let me join her if she goes to Ireland?”

“Mate, let it go for now. You’ll go there eventually.”

INSTAGRAM

liked by pascalispunk, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername ireland, you are beautiful

carlossainz55 ireland the country, right?

yourusername yes. . .

charles_leclerc take me next time?

yourusername ofc charlie ❤️

bigbreadpedlar another visit soon?

yourusername only if i get you as a tour guide

bigbreadpedlar i’ll see you soon then x

y/nstyle ARE WE SEEING THIS??

mescalupdates UMM WHATS GOING ONN

carlossainz55 something beautiful now shut up and appreciate what i have done for you

mescalupdates girl what

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[multific]

The Crown’s Weight

Lucius Verus x Reader

Summary: Your marriage was for politics. But he couldn't ignore your presence, especially your kindness.

The Emperor's chambers were filled with ornate details that spoke of duty and power. 

At first, that’s all your marriage to Lucius had been, a strategic arrangement, nothing more. 

Yet, over time, the lines of duty began to blur.

Lucius carried the Empire with unwavering strength, much like how he won in the Gladiator games, but you began to notice something else underneath his facade. 

At first, your moments together were brief, a quiet exchange during a meal or a passing glance. He barely looked at you. 

Slowly, something deeper began to form. Something, you didn't notice at first.

One evening, you found him on the balcony, the moonlight glowing on his handsome face. 

You hesitated before stepping closer.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked, your voice hesitant.

His head turned slightly, and he gave a small nod. 

“Not tonight. The weight of the Empire doesn’t lift at night.”

“It’s a heavy burden to carry alone.”

His gaze lingered on you, a flicker of something unspoken in his eyes. 

For the first time, you reached out and touched his arm, a simple gesture that seemed to break through the walls he built around him.

“Thank you,” he murmured, the words quiet but genuine.

From that moment, the nature of your relationship shifted. 

Another time, you had found him alone in the library, the strain of his duties evident in his posture. 

You placed a cup of tea beside him, and his fingers brushed yours.

"Thank you," he would say. No other words were exchanged that day.

Another time, you walked through the gardens together.

A simple walk, which he invited you on.

“Which flower do you like best?” he asked suddenly, his voice softer than usual but not unnatural.

“That one.” you pointed at the lilies. "I like their colour." 

The next day, you found a vase with the same flower on your desk. He didn’t leave a note, but he didn’t need to, you it was Lucius who sent them.

These small moments developed into something deeper, even if neither of you had said the words. 

But the Empire often found its way between you, sparking tension.

After one particularly heated argument about a decision for the provinces, you paced your chambers, your frustration palpable. 

Lucius entered, his expression was wild.

“I’m trying to protect the future of this Empire!” he snapped but didn't yell.

“And I’m trying to protect you!” you shot back. “You can’t do this alone, Lucius. You don’t have to.”

The silence that followed felt like an eternity. Then, his features softened, and he stepped closer.

“This marriage was supposed to be for the Empire,” he said, his voice quieter now. “But somewhere along the way, it became something more.”

“What do you mean?” Your heart raced as you processed his words. 

“I mean,” he said, his hands gently cupping your face, “I love you. Not just as my Empress, but as the one person who truly knows me. The real me.”

“I love you too, Lucius. It is why I worry so much." you admitted and it felt so good to say those words aloud. Because you did love him.

He pulled you closer, his hand resting on your hip as the other held your face.

The kiss he gave you was tender yet full of emotion, a promise that you weren’t just a partner in duty but in love.

When he finally pulled away, he didn't move back and looked into your eyes. 

“Whatever comes, we’ll face it together.”

“Together,” you echoed his words. "I have to ask you to share your worries with me. It is too much burden for you to carry. I understand you are... strong, but I'm your wife. I want to help."

"I will if you promise we will share sleeping chambers from now. We are no longer how we were when we met. I wish to sleep with my wife."

"I thought you would never ask." you smiled at this.

You always loved his strong he was. You used to watch him fight, his body was impressive. Little did you know that his mind was also like that.

But here he was now, an Emperor.

Gladiator II Collection

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief  

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen @brevlada24

@mel-vaz @akamitrani @ange-olras @nicholaschavezslut69

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[bigbaddie45]

Y’all ever read such a good fic with a nice plot just with so many spelling errors?!? Like TF you mean he was “grinong” in her ear or “taiek” her by the waist??

[vivwritesfics]

Silly ask, Lucius finding his partner adorable while doing the most mundane tasks

"Can you leave my chickens alone, please?"

Hanno looked up at you, a grin on his face. Moving away from your chickens, he pulled you into his arms and kissed your neck. "Is this better?" He asked between kisses, making his way towards your mouth.

Your hands came to hold his cheeks. "Much," you answered, your thumbs moving over his cheeks.

He held his hand over your own and kissed your palm, his facial hair scratching at your skin. You loved it, though. Loved the feel of it everywhere.

Against your shoulder, when he held you from behind and kissed your skin. Against your wrist as you bathed together, kissing along your arm. Against you ankle as he kissed down your leg, climbing between your thighs.

"One day I will marry you," he said and leaned in to kiss you. He towered over you, broad shoulders and thick muscles. You couldn't get enough of it, enough of him. He rested his forehead against your own, fingers moving through your hair.

Your response was to kiss him again. You wanted to marry him as much as he wanted to marry you. The problem was your father. He was the one that hated Hanno, the one who wanted him to stay away from you.

Your moments were stolen. The two of you, hidden away as you kissed each other. Getting wrapped up in each other while your father was away, selling the goods you had.

One day you would marry him. You couldn't see your life going in any other direction. Hanno was your everything. Your light in the darkness. Sometimes it felt like your life hadn't really begun until you met him (intense, I know).

He stood back and let you work, watching. There had been several times before where he had tried to help you to work, only to be shooed away and placated with a kiss.

And then the Romans landed.

[4ever-feral]

Umm Yes, I’ll take both please & thank you 😩

[intoanotherworld23]

His Delicate Flower Of Rome

Summary: when Lucius found out you were Marcus Acacius’s daughter he knew he had to have you, and when the opportunity was right he wasn’t holding back

Warnings: explicit content, mature themes, smut, unprotected sex, slightly dom Lucius, submissive reader, smidge of spanking

A/N: hello my lovelies! I was genuinely surprised that there isn’t more fics of Paul or Lucius out there so I wanted to write something for him, and hope everyone likes it and share your thoughts on if I should keep writing for him! If you wish to be added to a tag list please let me know! Or if you have any requests do not hesitate to submit it to my inbox! Don’t forget to reblog and comment! Thank you! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

"That's it flower, that's a good woman." Soft praises echoing in your ear as you sank down on Lucius's erect length. His calloused hands caressing your skin so tenderly. "Are you feeling all of me?"

"Mhm." Struggling to find the right words as you concentrated more on adjusting around his cock. Twisting your face in an unusual manner he couldn't resist as he leaned forward to place light kisses on your heated cheeks and temple.

"Do the gods hold your tongue? Can you not speak?" Keeping his voice deep and low as his words teased you.

"Lucius please." Whimpering pathetically as you continued to grind your hips back and forth. Lucius chuckling at how eager and desperate you were for him.

"Do you enjoy fucking gladiators? Does that moisten your thighs? Does your father know what a whore you are?" He taunted you as you bit your bottom lip realizing that his words held more truth than you wanted. Soon as Lucius found out you were Marcus Acacius's daughter he wasted no time in seducing you. "I've been longing to feel this cunt around me for too long."

He loved the feeling of your skin touching his. The way your body had molded into his so perfectly. A fierce bloodthirsty champion of the arena was holding you like a delicate flower. Lucius was enjoying this way more than he intended, and was already planning on never letting you go.

"Gods you are tight." Large hands holding the fat flesh of your thighs his thumb stroking your skin soothingly. Feeling so warm and incredibly deep. "You have not been fucked the way you should be."

Nodding your head in agreement unable to speak as you wrapped your hands around his thick neck. Beginning to tremble as you moved your legs to raise yourself better. Lucious guiding your hips now as he looked down to where you two were connected.

"Take it easy I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself." Noticing how aggressively you were bouncing on his cock. Even as his hands swatted your backside in warning you still continued to ignore him. So lost in the clouds you didn't want to come down.

"I can do it Lucius." Assuring him with such innocent eyes he couldn't help but smirk at how badly you wanted this. "Gods you are so big."

"Fuck." He grunts before pulling your body on top of his as he laid along the bed. He was surprised how soft it was considering he had been sleeping on stone for so long.

Gasping as he lifted his knees and started to pound into your cunt with absolutely no mercy giving you exactly what you wanted. His lips warm and desperate as they peppered kisses along your neck and shoulder. His hands keeping a firm grip on your ass using it as leverage.

"Oh gods." Crying out as he growled in your ear with such animosity it had a shiver running down your spine.

"The gods will never make you feel like this." Hissing into your ear and in just mere seconds tears are glistening in your eyes with such intensity. "Only my cock can bring you to such pleasure."

"Yes, my champion." We're all the words Lucius needed to hear before he suddenly flipped you on your back his cock never slipping from inside you. Grabbing your legs and placing them on his shoulders, as he got right back into the same rhythm.

Drilling into your sweet spot as he leaned forward slightly his face right above yours. Lucius was oozing with confidence in everything that he did. Whether it was in the colosseum or the bedroom. Bit surprised that a man like him would want anything to do with the generals daughter.

"I'm close." Informing him as your body started to shake a fire igniting in the pit of your stomach. Head tossed back in complete ecstasy as you couldn't hold back anymore.

"Let go I am right here." Cooing into your ear like he was revealing his secrets. His deep and seductive tone was sending you right over the edge.

"Oh gods." Crying out as your orgasm was swiftly approaching still sensitive from your previous release by his tongue. Lucius looking down at your remarkable expression unable to look anywhere else. Loving that he was the one in control, and held all this power in your pleasure. It made him feel like a god.

Your senses were extremely heightened, and feeling overwhelmed and vulnerable. Not sure how much longer you could hold on. Lucius could sense this, and he knew what would help relieve you.

"Let me see those beautiful eyes." He instructed to which you immediately followed not seeing that he was reaching a hand down between your bodies to your puffy clit. Rubbing rapid circles making you scream hands scratching along his back surely leaving marks.

Your ribcage rising and falling with each quick breath. Hands falling down to your side feeling loose and numb. Stomach trembling from the resounding orgasm you just experienced. Your battered cunt was so sore from being stretched and abused. Feeling his hands gently caressing your trembling thighs as he stayed still inside of you.

“The gods have surely blessed me on this night.” Speaking trying to catch his breath as he smiled down at you.

“Seems the gods bless you every night.” Moving from underneath him his cock slipping out as he laid next to you. The only sound you could hear was the water fountain outside of your room, and the crackles from the fireplace. Expecting Lucius to gather himself, and never speak to you again.

“Take comfort in my arms, and I will hold you while you sleep.” Pulling your body against his before you could say anything. The unexpected gesture made you feel something that you’ve never felt before. “Sleep my delicate flower.”

[lazysoulwriter]

texts with boyfriend!Paul.

trying something new! hope you like it & tell me what u think, please! <3 (im still learning how to use this fake texts app, sorry if somethings weird idk)

[andy-15-07]

Hiii! Would you do a fic with Paul/Reader with both of their family’s for a holiday or event or something? Maybe with kids?

A Family Complete

PAIRING:Paul Mescal x reader

WORD COUNT: 991 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Paul Mescal Masterlist

The sterile scent of the hospital room mixed with the faint, rhythmic beeping of the monitor beside Y/N's bed. She squeezed Paul's hand tightly, her face flushed with the effort of another contraction. Paul sat at her side, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles, whispering soft encouragements in her ear.

"You're doing amazing, love," Paul murmured, brushing damp strands of hair from her forehead. His heart raced with anticipation and worry, but he kept his voice steady, his presence a grounding force.

Y/N let out a sharp breath, her grip on his hand tightening. "Paul, it hurts so much. I don't remember it being this intense with Liam."

Paul leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers, his other hand resting on her rounded belly. "I know, darling. But you're strong, and she's almost here. We're so close. Just breathe with me."

Hours passed in a haze of pain, whispered words, and the occasional rush of medical staff checking monitors and offering reassurances. Paul never left her side, his hand a constant anchor.

Finally, the doctor gave the go-ahead. "It's time to push, Y/N. You're doing great. Just a few more pushes."

Paul positioned himself beside Y/N, his voice steady despite the lump in his throat. "You've got this, sweetheart. Just a little more. Think about meeting her."

With a final, guttural cry, Y/N gave one last push. The room filled with the sharp, beautiful sound of their daughter's first cry. Tears blurred Paul's vision as he looked at Y/N, her face a mixture of exhaustion and relief.

"She's here," Paul whispered, his voice choked with emotion. The nurse placed the tiny, wriggling newborn on Y/N's chest. Her skin was warm and soft, her cries quieting as she felt the familiar heartbeat beneath her cheek.

Paul kissed Y/N's temple, his tears falling freely now. "She's perfect. You're perfect. I love you so much."

A few hours later, Liam arrived, holding Paul's hand tightly, his eyes wide with curiosity and excitement. Paul lifted him gently onto the hospital bed beside Y/N.

"Liam, meet your baby sister," Y/N said softly, shifting to make room.

Liam's gaze settled on the tiny bundle cradled in Y/N's arms. He reached out tentatively, his small fingers brushing over the baby's delicate hand. The baby grasped his finger instinctively, and Liam's face lit up with awe.

"She's so small," he whispered, his eyes full of wonder. "What's her name, Mommy?"

Y/N and Paul exchanged a glance, smiling. "Her name is Isla," Paul replied, his voice filled with pride and love.

Liam leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss on Isla's forehead. "Hi, Isla. I'm your big brother. I'll protect you."

Later, both families arrived, their faces beaming with excitement. Paul's parents, Dearbhla and Paul Sr., entered first, their expressions softening the moment they laid eyes on Isla. Dearbhla's eyes filled with tears as she approached Y/N, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

"She's absolutely beautiful," Dearbhla whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She leaned down to kiss Y/N's forehead and then turned to Paul, pulling him into a tight hug. "I'm so proud of you both."

Paul Sr. stood beside Paul, his hand resting warmly on his son's shoulder. "You've done well, son. She's perfect. Just like Liam."

Y/N's parents, Margaret and James, followed shortly after, their faces glowing with pride. Margaret rushed to Y/N's side, her eyes shimmering with tears. "Oh, darling, she's an angel," she breathed, gently stroking Isla's tiny hand.

James, usually stoic, had a rare softness in his eyes as he bent to kiss Y/N's cheek. "You did great, sweetheart. She's beautiful."

The room buzzed with quiet laughter, soft coos, and heartfelt words as the grandparents took turns holding Isla, marveling at her tiny features. Liam proudly introduced his sister to everyone, his little chest puffed out with pride as he recounted how he held her finger.

Paul wrapped an arm around Y/N, pulling her close as they watched their families surround them with love and warmth.

"Look at what we've made," he whispered, his lips brushing against her temple. "Our beautiful family."

Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, her heart full. "Our perfect family."

Later that evening, after the room had quieted and the families had left, Liam nestled beside Y/N on the hospital bed, his little fingers gently tracing Isla's soft cheek. Paul sat nearby, his heart swelling with love as he watched his family.

"Mommy," Liam whispered, his eyes bright and curious, "why is she so tiny?"

Y/N chuckled softly, brushing her fingers through his hair. "Because she was just born, sweetheart. You were this tiny once too."

Liam's eyes grew wide. "I was? Did I cry like Isla?"

Paul leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, smiling softly. "You did, but as soon as I held you, you stopped crying. Just like Isla when Mommy held her."

Liam leaned closer, his nose almost touching Isla's. "I think she likes me. She held my finger. That means we're best friends, right?"

Y/N laughed softly. "Yes, it does. You’re her big brother, her first best friend."

Liam pondered this, then whispered, "I'll teach her how to draw dinosaurs and build the best Lego towers."

Paul reached out, ruffling Liam’s hair gently. "She’s going to love that. You’re already the best big brother she could ever have."

Liam smiled proudly, snuggling closer to Y/N, his hand still resting protectively on Isla’s tiny form. Paul’s gaze softened as he watched them, his heart overflowing with gratitude and love for the family they had created.

"I love her so much already," Liam murmured sleepily, his eyelids growing heavy.

Y/N kissed the top of his head. "And she loves you too, sweetheart."

Paul reached over, gently stroking Y/N’s arm and brushing a kiss to Isla’s soft head. "I love all of you more than anything."

In that quiet moment, surrounded by the warmth of their love, Paul knew his heart had never been fuller.

[whosscruffylooking]

Helloooooooo, I hope you are well, I was thinking if you could make a little imagine about Paul Mescal x actress wife, what his life would be like (Maybe with children😭)

Of course! Hopefully this is something similar to what you were looking for. If not, send another request! 💕

The morning sunlight poured through the large bay windows of your home, casting a golden glow across the hardwood floors and filling the room with warmth. You were seated at the kitchen counter, cradling a cup of coffee as you flipped through a script, your eyes scanning the words half-heartedly. Your focus was pulled every few seconds by the sound of tiny, quick footsteps pattering across the floor.

“Look, Mama!” your two-year-old son, Theo, exclaimed, holding up a stuffed lion triumphantly as he waddled toward you. His bright blue eyes—so much like Paul’s—sparkled with joy.

“You caught him, huh?” you said, setting the script down to lean forward, feigning amazement. “The king of the jungle doesn’t stand a chance against you.”

Theo beamed, his curls bouncing as he climbed into your lap with the stuffed lion. He pressed it into your chest, clearly ready to start another game. Before you could entertain him further, the sound of Paul’s voice drifted in from the hallway.

“Has anyone seen my coffee?” he called, his tone playful.

Theo immediately wriggled out of your arms and bolted toward the voice, his tiny legs moving as fast as they could. “Dada! I have lion!”

Paul appeared in the doorway, wearing a soft gray sweater and black joggers, his hair slightly tousled from the morning. His face lit up when Theo barreled into him, clutching the lion and giggling.

“Well, if the lion is here, then everything’s fine,” Paul said, scooping Theo up effortlessly. He glanced at you over Theo’s shoulder, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Good morning, my love. Have you seen my coffee?”

You raised an eyebrow and gestured to the half-empty cup sitting on the counter beside you.

Paul grinned sheepishly. “Right. Forgot about that.” He walked over, still holding Theo, and leaned down to kiss you. It was a quick kiss, soft but affectionate, the kind of casual intimacy that came so easily now after years together.

“Busy morning?” he asked, his gaze flickering to the script on the counter.

“Just trying to make sense of this new role,” you said, sighing as you slid the script toward him. “It’s good, but the character needs work. They’re a little one-dimensional.”

Paul placed Theo on the floor, ruffling his hair before picking up the script. “You’ll figure it out,” he said confidently, flipping through the pages. “You always do.”

You smiled at him, appreciating his quiet reassurance. Paul had this way of making you feel capable of anything, even when you doubted yourself.

Theo, meanwhile, had wandered off to his play corner, where a train set and blocks were scattered across the rug. You and Paul watched him for a moment, a shared sense of wonder filling the space.

“Sometimes I can’t believe he’s ours,” Paul said quietly, his voice laced with awe.

You glanced at him, your heart swelling at the sight of him watching Theo with such love in his eyes. “Me neither,” you admitted. “He’s the best thing we’ve ever done.”

Paul looked at you then, his expression soft but intense. “You’re the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you laughed lightly. “You’re too smooth for this early in the morning.”

He shrugged, a teasing glint in his eyes. “What can I say? I’ve had practice.”

The premiere had been a whirlwind of flashing cameras, laughter, and the hum of excitement that came with the release of a highly anticipated film. You and Paul had walked the red carpet together, his hand resting protectively on your lower back, guiding you through the crowd of photographers and reporters. You’d both been dressed to perfection—him in a tailored black tuxedo that emphasized his broad shoulders, and you in an elegant, curve-hugging gown that made his eyes linger a little longer than usual.

Throughout the night, you couldn’t resist teasing him. It started with a subtle touch—a hand brushing over his thigh during an interview or leaning a little too close while whispering something playful in his ear.

“Do you have any idea how distracting you are?” he murmured at one point, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You glanced up at him with a mischievous smile, batting your lashes. “Distracting? I’m just enjoying the night.”

His lips twitched into a smirk, but the look in his eyes told you he wasn’t fooled.

By the time the premiere had ended and you’d finished mingling at the afterparty, the tension between you had built into something palpable. Paul’s hand never strayed far from you, his touches lingering just a bit longer, his gaze flickering to you every time you laughed or leaned in close to speak with someone else.

The car ride back to the hotel was quiet, the city lights casting soft shadows across his face. He reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his and holding tight. You caught the way his jaw clenched slightly, his gaze fixed out the window as though trying to keep his composure.

The suite was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city lights filtering through the curtains. The weight of the evening still lingered, a blend of champagne, laughter, and the subtle tension that had been simmering between you and Paul all night.

Paul closed the door behind you with a soft click, loosening the tie at his neck as he turned to you. His eyes swept over you, taking in every detail—the way your gown shimmered in the dim light, the way your smile curved just so, a knowing look dancing in your expression.

“You’ve been enjoying yourself, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice low and teasing as he stepped closer.

You arched a brow, tilting your head. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

He chuckled softly, his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer. “It means I’ve been counting down the minutes until we got back here,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple.

You smiled, your fingers resting against his chest as you looked up at him. “Well, here we are,” you said, your voice just as soft, just as playful.

Paul leaned down, his mouth grazing your ear as he spoke. “A night without a baby,” he began, his voice a mix of humor and something deeper. “Maybe we can make another one.”

You laughed lightly, the sound dissolving into a breathless hum as he kissed the corner of your mouth, his hands sliding to your lower back. “That’s quite the plan,” you whispered, your heart racing as his lips traveled down to your jawline, then back to meet yours.

His grin was mischievous, his eyes darkening with a mix of affection and desire. “Well, I’m nothing if not ambitious,” he teased, guiding you gently toward the bed.

When the backs of your knees met the edge of the mattress, he leaned in, his forehead brushing against yours, his breath warm and steady. His hands moved to cradle your face, his thumbs tracing gentle circles against your cheeks. His eyes searched yours for a moment, a flicker of something tender and unspoken passing between you before he closed the distance.

His lips met yours softly at first, the kiss slow and deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every second. You let your hands slide up his chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer. The two of you desperately claw at each other’s clothing, tearing them off and discarding them without a thought.

The kiss deepened, growing more urgent as Paul tilted his head, his lips moving against yours in perfect rhythm. His hands slid down to your hips, tugging you flush against him as he leaned over you, the mattress dipping beneath your weight.

You sank back onto the bed, bringing him with you, his body warm and solid against yours.

The room was cloaked in the kind of quiet that felt sacred, the only sounds the soft rustling of sheets and the steady rhythm of your breaths mingling in the stillness. Paul’s hands moved over your skin with an unhurried tenderness, fingertips tracing patterns as if he were committing every curve, every detail, to memory. His touch sent warmth blooming beneath your skin, a quiet intensity in the way his hands lingered, his palms firm but gentle.

There was a certain rhythm to the night, an unspoken language in the way you moved together. His lips found yours again and again, soft and seeking, while the heat between you built steadily, growing in waves. The quiet gasps, the way his name slipped from your lips like a whispered prayer, filled the space between you, creating a melody that was yours alone.

Paul’s forehead rested against yours at times, his breath uneven as he murmured your name, each syllable carrying the weight of his devotion. The peaks you reached together were like fleeting moments of euphoria, your bodies and souls intertwined in a way that felt endless, infinite.

When the stillness returned, it wasn’t empty. It was full of something deeper—a profound sense of connection that only seemed to grow with every shared moment. His arms wrapped around you as the night stretched on, his lips brushing your temple in the quiet aftermath.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion, his words a vow as his hands continued their soft, soothing paths along your back.

The room was yours, the night infinite, and the world outside didn’t exist. In Paul’s arms, with his breath steadying against your skin, you felt completely and utterly whole.

[ladybirdswritings]

HUNTRESS, FIC — emperor geta x reader.

DESCRIPTION: the blood of the emperor’s brother is on your hands, a betrayed huntress facing death in the colosseum. your every move watched by the vengeful emperor who loathes you as much as you despise him. but amidst blood, betrayal, and survival, hatred begins to twist into something dangerous. NOTES - little enemies to lovers fic !! leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33 | next part

one;

The thrum of hundreds of drums cocooned your ears in an awful medley, vibrations snaking like vines across your very skin.

Here and now, standing before scorching iron twisting into mangled gates, you allowed a chill to kiss your skin.

You were afraid—very afraid—and for good reason. But even so, gladiators didn’t cower before their fate.

It was a good thing that wasn’t what you were.

This was all just an unfortunate consequence of one painfully violent decision.

For my brother… you had whispered into the chill of the winter season as you plunged a gold, ornate blade into the chest of the wrong ginger.

Sure, the younger one was no better than the older. Even so, it was not his crimson you had wished to coat your hands with, for he had not killed Pietro. Geta had.

And Geta would kill you too. Whatever growled beyond these iron gates was no better than a gruesome death.

“Huntress,” Lucien called, clad in bronze armor and pleated wraps. You winced.

“Don’t call me that.”

But he paid you no mind as he stepped forward, wrapping your lanky arm in a cuff of gold.

“It’s what you are, what you must be, if you intend to slay whatever beast lurks beyond these gates. Listen to me: do not be foolish in there. Do not give them a show. You run, and you hide in the very dirt if you must. Here.”

With a worried glance toward the guards, he hastily pulled out three violet berries and pressed them into your palm. His calloused skin guided your hand to wrap around them.

“This is poison. You squeeze, and it erupts into a sea of death. Use these, and you may survive.”

May.

It was too awful a word—too insignificant.

“Bring out the girl!” a horrid, broken voice roared to his many peasants. The iron groaned in deep complaint as the gates began to part.

It was then that you felt every bit the weak, fearful girl you truly were. Your doe-like eyes locked on Lucien’s. His palms gripped your biceps, a huff of frustration escaping him as he scanned your face—perhaps to remember it. Then he leaned forward to press a warm kiss to your forehead.

He was saying goodbye.

“You will survive,” he murmured against your skin. All you could do was nod with a gulp as he pulled away.

Facing the liquid gold rays of the sun now blinding you, you stepped through the gates.

Despise was not a strong enough word to describe just how much these people loathed you.

So destroyed over the death of half of their precious emperors. You scowled at the thought—the same emperors who kept them on pretty leashes.

Slickened tomatoes crushed beneath your boots as you limped forward. You were no better than Pietro here, and it seemed as though history was only going to repeat itself.

Bruised beneath the bronze armor, thirsty and starved, they had purpled your skin, nearly dislocated your hip, and robbed you of any sustenance that could aid you in this impossible battle.

They had cheated, just as they had with your brother in this awful colosseum.

You would die on the very same dirt as your brother had—your twin.

Even so, a vicious grin tugged at your lips when your eyes locked on the lone ginger emperor scowling down at you. His jaw was taut, his arms littered with veins, but his eyes—they gave him away. Dark. Exhausted.

Even if you were to stain his dirt with your blood, he would remain as you were now: a lone twin. His brother in the dirt, too.

Perhaps your revenge had not been such a disaster after all.

“Traitorous whore!” he screeched at you, and the peasants roared in agreement.

His words were no bother. You’d fight well enough—and when you died, you’d die with a smile.

“Bring out her death!”

Vibrations crawled up your calves as you squeezed the oak wood bow clasped in your hand—your only weapon.

The gates opposing you parted, welcoming two awful horns held back only by frayed rope and a growling man atop the beast.

“He shall impale you as you impaled my brother!” Geta growled from his castle above, his voice guttural and animalistic.

“BEGIN!”

His roar was so vicious you swayed on your feet.

Perhaps the bow was meant to deter you from survival, but you were grateful for it now. With your weak bones, you had no chance of surviving close battle. No chance of escaping a sword fight or a seething rhinoceros.

But your bow—you could fight from afar.

Thrum-thrum-thrum-thrum. The beast neared closer, working into a charge so vicious it drowned out the crowd’s excitement. You could feel Geta’s eyes scorching your skin.

He did not simply want you dead. He wanted you mangled.

“HUNTRESS—KILL THEM!” Lucien roared from behind the gates, snapping you back into the present moment.

Your purpled hands trembled as you grabbed an arrow and loaded your bow. You had to treat this as any other time—locked away in the forest with just you, the glades, and your bow.

A rhinoceros could be no different from a fawn, right? Animals—all the same. And you were starving now, just as you had been all the other times you hunted.

Closer, closer. You steadied your rapid breaths best you could— imagining doe-eyes approaching as opposed to horns and squinting as you found the place between the beast’s brows.

Closer.

Even closer.

A moment more and you’d lose your shot, so you released the tension-bound arrow.

Laughter—cruel, cold, and entirely at your expense—rattled the stadium.

Your eyes fell to the ground, where the arrow landed not two feet away from your boots.

No, no, no.

Your fingers trembled against the string. It was loose.

Bastard.

Your eyes flicked to Geta’s, cold and swimming with satisfaction. He had rigged your bow.

And the beast was still charging.

“HUNTRESS!” Lucien’s cry was lost on your ears as you steadied your feet. Your heart hummed like a bird in your chest.

You hissed as sharp pain licked the flesh of your wrist. Violet trickled from your cuff.

The berries.

Crying out in exasperation, you shook the berries free.

You would be impaled in a moment, but at least the poison would piss the wretched thing off.

With a cry, you crushed the berries in your palm, tossing the violet liquid into the air just as the horn grazed your bronze armor.

And you waited.

No darkness or light found you.

A screech so awful it could have burst your eardrums shook the colosseum. The beast reared back, thrashing in a violent dance before collapsing to the dirt.

Its tongue slack, its eyes white, it crushed the man commanding it.

You breathed then. For the first time.

As your eyes lifted, you found a flicker of awe in Geta's gaze-beyond his rage.

The colosseum roared in disbelief as Geta flipped the fruits and wine before him, storming away.

And you breathed.

Alive.

[fallinlovewithmyflaws]

Sneak Peek - Lucius Verus x OFC

“Do you know who I am?” Aurelia enters the small dark cell, the man they call ‘Hanno’ facing away from her, his features hidden to her prying gaze. Aurelia can’t help but notice his muscular back covered in a mixture of sweat, dirt and blood. Hidden beneath the grime, she can see the telltale brand of a slave, freshly burned into his skin.

“You should not be here.” Despite the many years that has passed, the man in front of her still holds signs of nobility and royal birth, in his voice and the way he holds himself, confident and unyielding.

“I know I should not, yet here I am. Do you remember me or not?”

“You are not easy to forget, Elia.” A nickname, her nickname, one that she has not heard in 16 years.

Aurelia slowly but surely places her hand into the rough calloused hand of her childhood companion, encouraging him to turn towards her. ‘How different his hands are,’ she thinks. It tells her an untold story of the laborious life he must of led after he was forced to flee Rome. The moment he turns to face her, their eyes connect, the burn behind Aurelia’s is instant, for those blue eyes are ones she could never forget. Not even if she wanted to.

“I thought I lost you.” Tears silently cascade down Aurelia’s cheeks while her dainty hands gently trace along Lucius’ features, trailing from his brow down towards his bearded jaw. Time has changed the boy she remembers, yet she can still recognise his boyish features in the man before her.

Both their eyes rake over each other’s faces, drinking in every changed detail. Aurelia immediately notices when Lucius’ eyes drift down to her lips, a movement she subconsciously echoes. The air in the small cell has changed, crackling with unsaid tension.

This is a little sneak peek of something I am writing for Lucius Verus and an original female character. It will follow the movie as much as I can. Hopefully you enjoy it and more than welcome to comment and like it! If you would also like to be tagged when I post the entire thing, let me know!