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ghostgirl101 · 11 months ago

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Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅰ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.5K || Angst → Fluff ||

A/N: I had this as a big idea that I had to get down before the basic headcanons and stuff, so here's my take on our Lisan al Gaib 😎 if you like this then hit me up for some relationship headcanons and the like, I'm up for it all. Enjoy reading or watching the movie if you haven't already - I'm going again lol, and screen X is the best way to experience it fr Also I feel like I should write a second part to this lmao, if you liked what you read?

You weren't one for dreams of destiny.

The dreams you had seemed meaningless, confusing, nothing to do with what ifs and what could. Not like his.

But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.

You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.

The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.

His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.

"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."

Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.

"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."

His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.

"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.

"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."

Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.

Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.

You were absolutely perfect.

And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.

"Do you know what I am?"

You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."

"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"

You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.

"No," you decide on hesitantly.

"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."

His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.

"In this future, I am with you."

All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.

"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.

"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."

"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"

His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.

"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"

The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.

But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.

"That's unfair."

"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."

You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.

"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."

You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.

"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."

Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.

"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."

Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.

When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.

"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.

⊹⊹⊹

From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.

The first step has been made.

══════════════⊹⊱≼ part two coming soon ≽⊰⊹══════════════

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pha55ed · 2 months ago

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PR Nightmare Two || F1/F2

type :: crack

tw/cw :: pee (carlos), sexual jokes (charles, oscar), watersports (lando), small smut (lando), mpreg (lando, oscar), bear fucking (ollie), necrophilia (ollie),

contains :: carlos, charles, lando, oscar, max, ollie, paul

summary :: driver!reader is the driver's teammate which is awesome! except the fact that you're a fucking pr disater who can't shut your mouth. platonic or romantic !

xmas celly here! || f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist

Carlos Sainz | 55

After moving to Williams, Carlos was terrified that you and him wouldn't click. But was quickly proven wrong as you were extremely open despite just meeting him. He knew everything about you... Too much...

Yet again, you were trapped in an interview that was seemingly never-ending. This interview was live on Sky Sports, meaning you both had to be extra careful and stay on for much longer than usual. Although Carlos was tired, you weren't. Yapping would have been your full time job if it wasn't for your skills in Formula.

"What is a secret you haven't told each other?" The interviewer asks, expecting something along the lines of 'I ate your ice-cream once' or 'I hate when you wear crocs'. Carlos was going to reply with something similar to that but you quickly jumped in.

"I wanna pee in the ice bath so bad" You said with a desperate tone, as if you were grieving the pain of not being able to bathe in your own piss. Carlos looked at you in shock.

"What?!" He asked, his shock turning to laughter to help cope. "But you never did right...?"

"Of course not holy shit." You say, disgusted he would think so lowly of you. "But I wanna see how my pee would react the muscle-relaxants and ice and shit. Like what if I become the Hulk but yellow-"

Quickly the camera were cut and the live stream ended before you could say more. You ruined an entire live stream with over 20,000 live viewers. From that moment, Carlos knew you two would be perfect together on this team.

Charles Leclerc | 16

Doing small interviews didn't bother Charles that much. He didn't mind talking and his fanbase was lovely. But once you became his new teammate at Ferrari, interviews were now 10 times more fun.

"Did you guys have any embarrassing childhood crushes?" The interviewer asked, finally giving you both non-racing related questions.

"Oh yes!" Charles said, excited to talk about himself. "Definitely Kristen Stewart haha! Not very embarrassing, but I did watch Twilight just for her."

"That's so valid" You said relaxed, "I think mine was probably 9."

Both Charles and the interviewer looked extremely confused. "From what show...?" The interviewer asked, assuming it was something like the Umbrella Academy or Stranger Things.

Now you were confused as well, "Huh? There's no show." You repeated yourself. "9, as in the number... Like the circle and line."

"Oh..." The interviewer said, trying their best to find a way to segway this into the next question but they were cut off by Charles.

"No way," Charles said, "Maybe! MAYBE I could understand the number 8 but 9???" Now the interviewer was completely lost. "At least 8 has curves and a body, what does 9 have?"

"I know he's packin" You said with a grin "That little curved tail, curved UPWARDS? And the-"

Cameras off. Interviewers cutting you off. And Charles was deeply interested... This clip launches your duo name: Eight Eat Nine

Lando Norris | 04

"How are you helping (Y/N) adjust to being a new Papaya!" The interviewer asked innocently. Little did she know how much Lando has been enduring with you. Thankfully he recored it all and there would be a video posted to Youtube soon.

"Awful." Lando says before chuckling, almost more like a nervous break down chuckle. "Every day is hell with em' here."

"What???" The interviewer asked, thinking she got first-hand access to the newest gossip on the grid. "Did something happen?"

"YEAH." Lando said, simply nodding, not having the guts to say what you did. Thankfully, but not very thankfully to Lando, you walked into the interview after overhearing it.

"Yeah, what DID I do?" You ask, almost sounding threatening. "Don't make me show you again."

After weeks passed and rumors were rampant online. Rumors about you blackmailing him, overthrowing his family's business, kicking him out of Mclaren, and so so many more extreme rumors that you both were laughing at. Lando finally edited and posted his newest Youtube video: "Reading Fanfiction with (Y/N)!?"

Despite the thumbnail seeming like you two would be reading fan-fiction shipping you both together, instead, you found the most vile, borderline dark content, gay fics of Lando with a variety of drivers.

Thus, explaining the odd dynamic between you two. In reality, you both were perfectly fine and closer than ever. But you just wanted to play up the drama in order to rack up some views and tweets. It was awful for the PR team, but to you guys: it was funny.

Oscar Piastri | 81

oscarpiastri: got a tan and a new helmet: ready to destroy the next half of the 25' season! @.mclaren

→ yourusername: finish taking that shirt off. now.

→ yourusername: take off your pants too while your at it.

⎯→ user 01: OH MY GOD (Y/N)?????? UNDER A MCLAREN TAGGED POST TOO????

→ user 02: they're never ever going to beat the dating accusations

⎯→ yourusername: we're about to be dating once he comes home

→ user 03: thought i was a freak but (y/n)... u can have him

→ yourusername: my lovely wonder-bread, bend over for me.

⎯→ user 04: i thought this was a joke about his name sounding like pastry but she's just calling him white, isnt she

⎯→ user 05: that's her precious white chocolate delight

→ yourusername: gonna get ur fine ass pregnant

→ yourusername: raw. next question.

⎯→ user 06: i can't tell if she's tiktok typa horny or tumblr typa horny

⎯→ user 07: definitely tumblr...

No image. I'm not searching this shit up again.

Max Verstappen | 01

Tiktok is something Max tries to stay away from. Not that he hates the app, he'd just rather do something else with his time. But you, the newest and youngest driver on the grid, loved Tiktok. You were basically the marketing for Redbull despite your out of pocket videos at times.

And that included you coming up with the idea to have Max react to fans posts. An innocent idea that Max didn't mind filming content for, after all, he loved his fans. But you quickly were going to make him doubt that.

You were smart, showing him innocent tiktoks first. Fan art, cool edits, and even analysis on his best drives. As the video was coming to an end, you brought up the trend where drivers were compared to a food and a quote.

Often times Max was compared to a key lime pie, bell pepper, or an energy drink. But you then showed him THE strawberry slideshow. You knew what the ending was.

"Oh strawberry!" Max said, excited to finally get a sweet themed item. But as he swiped and saw the strawberries then coated with white chocolate, obviously implying something, he jumped back and gasped. "OH!!! Well, I didn't... I didn't expect that."

While you were dying, already posting it - he was traumatized.

Oliver Bearman | 87

Interviews were fun between you both, fans always loved it. Mainly because both of you can't keep your mouth shut. The only way to make your interviews even worse is to get Franco to join in with you guys.

But unlike Ollie's sassy comments, you asked stupid questions. Butt fuck stupid questions. Which Ollie always took serious. Think of Tom Holland answering the question about him "faking" being British or Theo Von's podcast vibes. It was the dumb American x understanding Brit duo.

So when you both were forced to create a "podcast" for Prema, aka a race preview, you both took full advantage of this time. You were supposed to be just folding laundry, but almost nothing got folded. It was just yapping and yapping.

"I got a question," You say, attempting to fold a shirt but doing awful at it.

"Hmm?" Ollie replied, picking up the shirt you just folded and undoing it. Only to fold it properly himself.

"Why is your name Bearman?" You ask. "Cause like, I know British people got like, My Little Pony names. Like how people named Smith's were blacksmiths and stuff."

"Oh well," Ollie paused to think, "I dunno actually. It's from my great grandpa so."

"Did he fuck a bear or something?" You ask, nonchalantly while Ollie instantly is confused. "Cause lowkey, back in the day I bet Bearman was a slur."

"No..." Ollie hesitated, "I highly doubt my grandpa fucked a bear. I think we probably just hunted bears-"

"So you're a family of necrophiles?" You shake your head, "That's just wrong man."

"I never said that-"

Paul Aron | 17

paularon_: Went for a run, in Italy, with a film camera🇮🇹🎥

→ yourusername: is it say yes to the dress or say yes to the SLUT???

→ yourusername: is this your soft launch for your only fans?

⎯→ user 01: i'd so buy it tbh

→ yourusername: pepemartiofficial kimi.antonelli olliebearman jakcrawford_ zane.maloney isackhadjar dennis_hauger

⎯→ paularon_: why are you @ ing the whole grid

⎯→ yourusername: to slut shame you

→ pepemartiofficial: did you lose your shirt over the summer?

→ olliebearman: go eat a burger (save somes baddies for the rest of us)

→ jakcrawford_: we get it, ur buff with a huge dick

⎯→ user 02:: how do u know that…

⎯→ yourusername: I can vouch for

→ isackhadjar: put a bra on slut

⎯→ yourusername: I don’t even think mines will fit him

#f1 #f2 #formula 1 #formula 2 #f1 x reader #f2 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri #max verstappen x reader #ollie bearman x reader #oliver bearman x reader #paul aron x reader #xmas celly!#formula 1 smau #formula 2 smau

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lazysoulwriter · 2 months ago

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Erotic and intimate - Paul Mescal.

warning: smut.

The rain falls gently outside as you step into your apartment, your heels clicking faintly on the marble floor. You feel the slight buzz of the night still lingering—tipsy from the wine, hazy from the joint you shared with friends earlier. The city lights outside your window blur into a kaleidoscope of color.

"Paauuul," you call out, your voice playful and drawn out as you drop your bag on the plush couch. You push your hair back, the faint scent of your perfume mingling with the evening air. "Where are you?" You find him sitting on the bed you share, wearing those damned shorts, his dangerously delicious thighs on full display. It's infuriating how effortlessly hot he can be without even trying. He’s thickened in a book, almost oblivious to your presence. But then he glances up, his eyes meeting yours, and a wicked smile spreads across his face.

"My dear… I didn't even hear you come in," he says, grinning wider. "How was your night with your friends? Did you have fun?" He keeps talking as he closes the book, giving you his full attention. "Why don't you come sit on my lap and tell me all about it?"

The audacity of this man. But you go anyway—it’s exactly what you wanted, and he knows it. You sit down, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Did you know you’re absolutely delicious?" you tease, laughing softly.

"Wow!" He chuckles along. "And you’re so damn sexy too, did you know that?"

You don't bother with more banter, leaning in to kiss him instead. Who has patience for this kind of conversation when this man is yours? In the middle of the kiss, your hand delicately trails down, grazing his growing arousal. As always, the sound of his low moan tells you exactly how much control you have over him. His defenses fall completely.

"You know," you start, your voice soft and teasing, "going out without you always makes me miss you so much." You slide slowly down, heading toward exactly what you both want.

His cock springs free, harder and more ready than you even imagined. "Oh… babe," he groans when you take him into your mouth.

Most of the time, Paul is completely submissive, letting himself melt under your touch, your heat, your mouth. He loves how your lips slide along his throbbing length, the way his name tumbles out in broken moans. His hand gathers your hair into a loose ponytail, so he can watch your face while you work. It's both erotic and intimate, a perfect balance.

"Baby… please… sit on me," he pleads between gasps.

"Like this?" you ask, feigning innocence with that teasing smile of yours.

"No… no! Please… with your pussy. I know it’s wet," he stammers, a mess of moans and desperation.

"Show me I’m yours," he begs.

"You’re mine," you declare, standing to strip off your clothes, his eager eyes following your every move as he adjusts himself on the bed.

"Yes, I’m yours. Fuck… I love you."

#paul mescal #paul mescal smut #paul mescal x reader #paul mescal imagine #imagines #fanfic #paul mescal x y/n #paul mescal imagines #paul mescal fanfic #normal people #smut

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misctf · 1 month ago

Note

I just love your twink stories so much, just overall cockshrink stories of yours are immaculate. Thank you so much!

Of course! I hope you enjoy this one too!

New Year New Me

Derek grinned as his boyfriend kissed his cheek and rubbed his hand against his chest. Despite dating for two years, the passion was still there. And Derek couldn’t think of a better way to spend the New Year than with his boyfriend at a couple’s resort nestled away in the woods.

“I love you babe.” Derek kissed his boyfriend, his hands caressing his lover’s cheek.

Paul was perfect. Besides being one of the nicest and funniest guys he’d ever dated, the physical attraction was certainly there. Not to mention they were totally compatible. Derek being a total top, while Paul was a strict bottom. He loved how desperate Paul could be too- always the more submissive of the two. And as they got into bed, Derek instinctively goes to be the big spoon.

“Hey babe,” Paul says, “Would you mind if I try being the big spoon tonight?”

Derek raises an eyebrow, “You want to be big spoon tonight?” He smirks, “What’s gotten into you?” He jokes and Paul smiles deviously.

“You’re always the big spoon, I kinda wanna try it out.” He chuckles, “New Year, new me?” Derek looked at Paul with amusement, but also a hint of curiosity.

“Alright babe, we can give it a shot.”

He said with a grin, scooting over to let Paul take position behind him. As soon as their bodies made contact, Derek felt a strange tingling sensation wash over him. His skin prickled and he shivered slightly.

“What's up?”

Paul asked, noticing the change in his boyfriend's demeanor. Derek tried to shake off the feeling, attributing it to the unusual positioning. But the sensations intensified. He tried his best to ignore them.

“Nothing, I’m good.” Derek mumbled, blinking his eyes a few times.

Derek's mind began to fog slightly as the tingling spread through his body. His thoughts grew hazy and his vision blurred at the edges. Paul's arms wrapped around him, pulling him close, and Derek felt himself melting into his boyfriend's embrace.

“Feels good, doesn't it?” Paul whispered in his ear, his breath hot against Derek's skin.

The words sent a thrill through Derek, but it wasn't just arousal. Something deeper, more primal, was stirring within him. Derek nodded, thinking it odd how Paul's voice took on a somewhat lower tenure. Not to mention the confidence. Usually he liked more submissive guys. But Paul's sudden confidence made his dick stir.

“So good.” He replied, nestling closer to his boyfriend. Derek's cock hardened fully, straining against his boxers as a new kind of desperation seized him. He wanted to be held, worshipped, fucked...hard, “Mmm, I love you so much, Paul.” Derek slurred, his voice taking on a higher, more nasally tone, “You're the best thing that ever happened to me.” He pressed back against his boyfriend, grinding his ass against Paul's crotch.

“Fuck babe...” Paul grunted.

Derek moaned loudly, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy as he felt Paul's hardening bulge press insistently against his ass.

“Oh god, Paul, please...” Derek whimpered, his hips bucking back against his boyfriend's hips in a needy rhythm.

His once strong, toned body started to soften. The light dusting of chest hairs beginning to fall away, leaving him smooth. Meanwhile, Derek couldn't help but notice that Paul's arms seemed bigger somehow. The mountainous biceps that bulged as Paul held him closer seemed... wrong. But as he felt Paul's ever more prominent bulge against his ass, he simply moaned. Paul's grip tightened around Derek's waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he ground his throbbing erection against his boyfriend's pliant ass. Derek gasped, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure coursing through his veins.

“I'm going to make you mine, baby.” Paul growled, his voice low and rough with desire, “Every inch of you belongs to me now.”

As if in response, Derek's body began to shift further. His broad shoulders narrowed, his powerful muscles atrophying to reveal a leaner, more delicate frame. His hair, once dark and neatly styled, turned a bright platinum blonde and fell in messy waves across his forehead. A sweet, innocent face emerged, dominated by large, expressive blue eyes and full, pouty lips.

With each passing moment, Derek felt himself becoming less like his former self and more like a naive, dim-witted pretty boy. His once sharp intellect dulled, replaced by a vacuous, lustful haze. And yet, emotions like fear, despair, and anger dulled. He gazed up at Paul with wide, trusting eyes, his mouth slack and drooling slightly.

“Y-you're so big and strong, Paul.” he cooed, reaching back to fondle the massive bulge tenting his boyfriend's pants, “Can you please fuck me? I need it so bad...”

“Not with an ass like that.” Paul grunted, scratching at the hairs that sprouted from his increasingly larger pecs, “And what kinda fuckin' twink has a package like that? Paul groped Derek's proud bulge.

“But babe... please...” Derek pouted, “I.... oh gawd!”

As Paul's touch lingered on Derek's groin, the young man's erection began to shrink, growing smaller and softer until it dwindled to a mere nub between his thighs. At the same time, his once muscular ass flared outward, ballooning into an obscenely large, juicy bubble butt. Paul chuckled cruelly, enjoying the sight of his boyfriend's pathetic, diminished manhood. He reached down and gave Derek's swollen rump a harsh slap, watching with satisfaction as the tender flesh jiggled and quivered.

“You're such a fucking cumslut now, aren't you, babe?” Paul sneered, rubbing his thumb over the red imprint left on Derek's cheek. “Just begging to get your tight little hole filled with my cock.”

Derek whined pitifully, squirming under Paul's scornful gaze.

“P-please, Paul... I'll do anything... just use me...” He reached back to part his cheeks.

That was all Paul needed. Paul set a relentless pace, pounding into Derek's ass with savage abandon. Each brutal thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure radiating through the young man's core, making him clench and unclench around his boyfriend's invading length. Derek's cries degenerated into incoherent moans and whimpers, his mind consumed by the overwhelming sensations. Any thought of being anything other than a sex toy for his bigger, stronger, boyfriend evaporating from his increasingly duller mind.

“Harder, Paul! Fuck me harder!” Derek begged shamelessly, his voice high and breathy. “Make me your slutty little cumdump!”

As the night wore on, Paul continued to use Derek's willing body for his pleasure, fucking him relentlessly until both men collapsed in exhaustion. Now, as morning dawned outside, Derek lay curled up on Paul's chest, his small frame barely filling the expanse of his boyfriend's broad shoulders.

Despite the lingering soreness between his legs, Derek felt a deep sense of contentment and belonging. In this moment, he knew without a doubt that he was meant to serve and submit to Paul's dominance. Groggily, Derek opened his eyes to find Paul staring down at him with a mix of affection and superiority. Paul gently stroked Derek's hair, his fingertips grazing the delicate features of his boyfriend's face.

“You did so well last night, baby.” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, “Such a good little slut for me.” Derek blushed at the praise, his heart swelling with pride and devotion.

“Thank you, Paul.” he whispered, nuzzling into his boyfriend's warm embrace, “I'll always be here for you, no matter what.”

Paul chuckled, leaning down to capture Derek's lips in a dominating kiss. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a golden glow over the room, both Derek and Paul knew something had changed. But neither would be complaining all too much.

#male tf #male transformation #mental change #personality tf #twink tf

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kiss-me-muchoo · 3 months ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐬

part one: here || part two: something real

summary_ having an affair with General Acacius overseas while conquering lands turned into a problem after coming back to Rome, when you fell for a gladiator that turned out to be a missing prince.

warnings_ CRINGE, girthy age gap (legal) (I’m 20, sorry) historical inaccuracy, angst, violence, gore, animal death, sexism and misogyny, fluff but angst, a lot of canon divergence bc I said so. NO PROOFREAD, BEWARE!

note_ I can’t remember which year the movie is set in, I can’t remember many things but let me know if I fucked up too much. And listen to fallen fruit from Lorde while reading.

♪ ♫ Pedro playlist

♫ ♪ Paul playlist

✰ Index (+ fics here)

𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸

The sea was a free land. Nobody could conquer it because there wasn’t anything valuable floating around. Perhaps at the bottom of the ocean, a treasure may lay, but no man had shown the desire to dive into the deep.

The screams of the innocents are loud enough to make you feel empathy for them. But Acacius had trained you to put a mask of neutrality when leading war.

Loving the most effective soldier of Rome was your little secret. He married the daughter of an old emperor and he fought to get her privileges and prevent her from danger.

Always the insane little girl running around the palace, rambling about plants, the stars, a dream of Rome in flames. It was enough to be secretly sent to a scribe's university in Egypt for some time.

Upon your return, not much had changed, only that your father, once lead of the council, then the wise of Rome had died. Consequently, your evil stepbrothers were crowned emperors. They named you a soldier and made sure you were at every battlefront, hoping for your death.

But your general trained you well, and with months of practice, you ended up tangled up with him on his sheets in Greece.

Adultery was considered a crime in Rome and you’d give the perfect reason to your brothers to burn you like a witch. Or worse, to send you to fight at the arena of the Colosseum.

But the people who accompanied you and Acacius overseas were loyal and couldn’t care less if you had an older man fucking you each night. They only cared about you being a good soldier on the battlefront and being a good princess in Rome.

With a couple of hours left to be home again, you had your wounds checked. Conquering Numidia was one of the last African cities to be marked by the Romans and your brothers desperately wanted to own it. Only a few burns scattered across your leg and your shoulder needed stitches were the price to pay.

The wooden floor creaked and the general turned around alert but as soon as he saw you, he seemed to calm down.

Your arms wrapped around him and he immediately had to lean and kiss you. His lips tasted like devotion, peace, and lust. Acacius always grabbed your hips first. Then he moved to your waist, only to end up caressing your cheeks as his lips kept marking you his.

“What did the doctor say?” asked Acacius as he gasped for air.

“Nothing to worry about…” You nodded at him and he turned his back to you again, looking at his open windows, to the sea.

“What about yours? How is the scar on your nose?”

“It’s fine. Could’ve been worse” You walked towards him, sensing he had bathed like you as well, his hair looked perfectly curly and you couldn’t help but smile.

You could stay looking at the horizon forever, just because he was by your side. The sound of the waves calmed your mind after another day of calamities brought by war.

“For those who chose the sea, greatness waits at the end of the rainbow,” you said smiley. But the general remained stood silent.

“Those are ludicrous tells, the truth is that even war has infected the sea as well.”

“Because we chose to fight, then yes, the sea is also an arena. But if we chose not to, the way will not depict war” his eyes kept looking at you, completely fixated and even threatening, like Acacius was trying to understand how much you were judging him.

“We do this because we don’t have any other choice, princess y/n,” Acacius said, finally turning to look at you.

“We could run away, to the south, the islands of the Tyrrhenian Sea are empty, nobody wants to live there” your voice trembling, nervous and waiting for his response. He stared at nothing, probably thinking. And that made you uneasy.

“I can’t leave Rome, I have to go back to…” he said coldly.

“Your wife….Right”

Silence. Even the sea seized the sound of the waves.

“Haven’t you told her?”

“What’s there to be told? I said this was only a thing of passion and lust” You bit your tongue at his harsh words.

“Was it? Would you say that all those nights you shared your past with me meant nothing, Marcus?”

There it was. His most personal name, that one nobody used. The general got closer to you, paying attention to your face. Princesses did not have scars, but you did. He wanted to say so much, but he couldn’t. You noticed how his fingers were about to trace the pink scar on your chin but he moved away.

“I was drunk most of the nights, doping the pain” Finally your eyes crystallized.

“Do you love Lucilla, General?” His steps stopped then turned around to face you one last time.

His eyes looked doubtful but soon landed on his feet.

“… I do love her” you nodded, holding the tears and bursting out of his room in anger.

“Of course you do”

Your disappointment was so evident that Acacius was able to look at your face reddening and tears falling freely. He could only sigh and go back to pack his things and get ready to arrive in Rome again.

If only you knew…

…

The crowds of Rome couldn’t stop screaming your name. It was “PRINCESS Y/N!” and “ACACIUS!” everywhere.

You were no hero, you just wanted a peaceful life in a free Rome with the man you loved. And you can feel his hand brushing yours while his left salutes the parade of people chanting both of your names. The truth is you have no purpose but to serve your brothers and pretend that is your life.

The twins always hated you. Their mother was a wealthy woman but yours was the emperor’s true love. The twins used to pull your hair and always picked poisonous berries to give you as a meal while being toddlers. It got worse as everyone noticed you were your father’s favorite. And with him gone, you were utterly alone in the world.

Your clumsy steps made you arrive later. There was no crown for you waiting like it had been for Acacius. Geta and Caracalla were talking to him. And when you noticed the sword in the general’s neck, your face went serious.

“Do not forget the privileges we’ve made for your wife” you heard Geta saying.

“Same benefits we’re making for your whores, frater” The twins turned to look at you, quickly releasing Acacius and going straight to you. Their golden armors were a mere matter of display. They could barely wield a sword. They were bad with the bow and arrow and their reflections were poor too. They were good with numbers and shapes, but that wasn’t much in the city they shaped. One full of segregation and violence.

“Dear, soror… you’re back…” you think Geta gets closer to hug you, but his hand has raised and he gives you a sharp slap across the cheek.

“Dazzling and with such a big mouth as always” he added while you looked down, your cold hand against the reddening skin and sending him the worst look you had.

“Leave the princess alone, emperor. We should be focusing on the games ahead. We brought many slaves that some of them could fit as gladiators” Acacius said, looking affectionately at you, with disguise.

Caracalla only laughs in your face and his monkey reaches you for some seconds, but your brother pulls him away quickly. You wonder how far his disease has spread. Before leaving Rome, he was completely against seeing a doctor.

“Acacius is right, Geta. Let’s focus on the games” the twins agreed but sure, they had to humiliate you one last time.

“Alright then. But the next time I see you, dear y/n… I don’t want to see your hair down freely. You look like a whore and not the princess of Rome” he whispered loud enough to make everyone hear. But finally, the twins were gone.

“Are you alright?” The general asked but you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t need your help, Acacius. I’ve dealt with Geta and Caracalla since the day I was born. Which was before we met you” he sighed, understanding you were still mad from your last conversation. He appreciated your free hair, long and healthy despite the fires you went through while in combat.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt. It’s enough they sent you to serve in the war when you should be here, safe from the horrors”

“Go home to your wife, Acacius. Your dinner will be cold…” you spit out with a bitter tone before walking away, disappearing through the walls of the palace.

…

Standing naked, dripping, and waiting for servants to dry you up, you stare at the dress hanging in your room. It had been months since you wore a dress, used to armor and tight braids, and the sensation of the fabric felt odd.

As a kid, you wished to befriend your servants, but they remained professional and apologetically brushed away your questions. Which made you feel even more lonely while they dressed you up; placing gold jewelry and rings with quartz, spraying perfume, and cleaning your teeth. Geta and Caracalla always stole the sweets from you as kids, you thanked them because instead, it was Caracalla who ended up with a decayed tooth and a gold one as a replacement.

“You’re ready, princess,” said one of the servants and you smiled at her as a thank you.

The whole time while you and your brothers awaited to arrive at the Colosseum, you ignored them. You sneaked away as soon as you arrived. Knowing the place like the palm of your hand, you took a secret passage, in hopes to go and tend your horse to delay the entertainment as long as you could.

Gladiator fights were of no interest to you. But the people loved it. Their ignorance made you understand why they hadn’t tried to throw your brothers from the thrones.

But being months away made you forgetful of the architecture of the Colosseum, forgetful enough to end up in the cells of gladiators. Looking perplexed, you gulped nervously. There were indeed many slaves brought.

Being the only woman there made you the center of attention. Even worse when you looked exactly like a princess would do.

“Princess y/n, What are you doing here?” Asked one of the high-rank soldiers, running towards you.

“I wanted to tend my horse. It was brought here by accident” you replied, eyes wandering through the cells, noticing the people inside them were full of new people, probably from Numidia. You wonder if they recognized you.

Your eyes met the ocean-blue ones of a man, he certainly recognized you as he looked at you with anger. You gulped once again, looking away from him. But his gaze had been so strong that you didn’t hear a servant come running from the end of the hallway.

“A TIGER ESCAPED! A TIGER ESCAPED! CLOSE THE DOORS!” he screamed and soon everyone went into panic mode. You didn’t have enough time to process what he said and do anything. You stood there confused for some seconds. The violent roars of the animal could be heard closer. You looked around trying to find a weapon.

“Stay behind me, princess,” said the same soldier but you didn’t trust him so you went to grab a bow and arrow. The prisoners yelled and quickly you understood they were having a private show. They hated you for being Roman, and they thought they would see you dying.

But you wouldn’t give them that satisfaction as much as you sympathized with them.

The tiger appeared, big and imposing. The animal was angry, visibly distressed, and ready to attack.

You had killed men, but an animal was different. There was no exact description of what to do. Just pure instinct. So you try to calm yourself before the tiger spots you and the soldier, who are the only ones that remain vulnerable. The guards closed the entrances as protocol, unbeknownst that you were there. And it had been too late to use the secret passage.

You felt the same man’s eyes on you and indeed, he looked carefully at you, probably wondering what would be your next move.

“PRINCESS, STAY AWAY!” The soldier screamed when the tiger came running towards you two.

The tiger jumped and threw the soldier, roaring as it tried to kill him. So you ran away in hopes of aiming at the eye of the animal to gain time. Your hands shaking and you could feel your legs get tangled up in the fabric of your dress. But your nervousness isn’t visible as your hands work on getting ready for the arrow. You don’t have time to calculate, the tiger has already bitten the soldier’s fingers.

You hit it very near the eye and the animal roared even louder, in pain. That’s when you spotted the sword the soldier had left behind, where you threw yourself to, as the tiger had tried to attack you again. The man with blue eyes pushed the sword towards you from inside the cell and you didn’t even look to thank him, you only grabbed the weapon and rolled to the right before the animal could scratch your face and kill you.

You heard the soldier cry out in pain but you couldn’t help him. Thinking you could end the beast chasing you, you failed, sinking the sword in the ribs of the animal. You felt a deep scratch in your arm and you cried out. Anger quickly builds up as you know you had to get out of there before everyone at the coliseum found out. The tiger roared one last time and before it could throw you to the sandy ground you grabbed another arrow and directly pierced the eye of the animal. Blood starts pouring and before the tiger can try to bite and break your neck, your hands end up in its mouth.

The fangs were dangerously digging into your hands and more blood started coming. Scarlet droplets fell all over your face and you didn’t care. You screamed in pain and pulled all the strength in your body to put the pressure on your arms and hands. The men inside the cells cheered and made you even more angered. Until you had torn open the tiger’s mouth, breaking its jaw and killing the animal.

Breathe….

Pushing the dead animal aside, you sighed, resting on the dirty floor for a couple of seconds before taking a long breath and standing up.

Every man inside each cell looked at you quietly. What’s there to say?

Five guards open the main entrance and look confused at the mess, then at you tending the heavily injured soldier.

“Bring a doctor,” you tell them and they nod without asking more questions. Only one comes to your side.

“The games are about to begin, princess. I must escort you back to where you should be” Trying to catch your breath, you nodded.

“Do not say a word about this mess” The guard only bowed his head in agreement.

The least you could do was to put some bandages around the bloody hand of the soldier. Then you cleaned yourself and noticed you were a mess.

Giving that soon-to-be gladiator one last look, you tried to thank him with your eyes for what he had done to help you. He understood, giving you a cold nod.

And as you walked towards the royal platea, you wondered if that was the slave your brothers mentioned. A poet…

“Oh heavens! What happened to you?” Asked Lucilla as soon as you tried to take a seat beside Geta. Then everyone turned to look at you in horror. You noticed Acacius looked worried and he couldn’t keep his eyes away from the blood in your dress and bandaged arm.

“An accident” you replied politely at the woman, not in the mood to face the wife of your ex-lover.

“You look horrible,” said Caracalla.

“It won’t; happen again, frater” you tiredly answered, sinking onto the chair, ignoring Acacius’ eyes on you.

Soon you are surprised to see the gladiator who helped you in the arena. You don’t face him when he ends up winning and he looks at you. But you do notice Lucilla’s behavior and quickly you have connected the dots.

What an odd coincidence…

…

This time, you checked the animals first, then you made sure nobody had seen you entering the cells, but you went where the mysterious gladiator of blue eyes rested.

“Barbarian, monkey eater, slave, gladiator…. Prince of Rome, How may I call you? Hanno or Lucius?” Soon you had him inches away from your face. At that moment, you had time to appreciate his features. He was handsome and looked pretty much like he belonged to Roman royalty. But his gaze was fueled by anger and pain.

“What do you want?”

“I know Lucilla came before me. She had been waiting for you ever since I can remember” he looked at you with cold eyes and unbothered. But you knew he was curious about you too.

“What do you care? You’re the princess, you support all of this” his anger was palpable, it was part of his way of fighting you had noticed.

“Who did you lose?” You asked.

“My wife” he replied after a little silence, you nodded apologetically. He didn’t believe you.

“My father was a friend of your grandfather, part of the council. Now I realize that when he was elected emperor, he started hunting you down. I’m sorry”

“You don’t. You joined their cause and you fight proudly on the battlefront. I saw you…” you chuckle sarcastically.

“The twins you met the other day are my half-brothers. And they have tried to kill me since I was born. They sent me to war as punishment, but Acacius trained me well enough to survive each battle”

“So what? Should I pity you?”

“No, please don’t. But I don’t support any of this. I want to be a free woman and be with the man I love but I don’t think I’ll live enough to make it happen” he seemed interested in your words but pretended he wasn’t. Either way, you kept talking.

“You can’t kill Acacius. He’s leading a rebellion against my brothers” he stood quiet, trying to taste the lies in your words. But you seemed very truthful.

“Interesting that you want his head when all I’ve wanted is his heart” Through the cell his eyes sparkled and looked tentatively at you, for some seconds you got too attached to them.

“What about Macrinus?” The old man had been trying to gain your brother’s trust and you thought that was suspicious.

“Don’t trust him. Stop sharing any detail that could tell him what you want or fear”

“I don’t trust you either”

“You shouldn’t,” you said, a little smile unconsciously appearing on your face. And to your surprise, Lucius smiled too. There was something about you that he found lovely. You seemed honest, but he couldn’t trust you yet. So he cursed once you had left, you had him looking forward to meet you again.

…

Across the room runs a large table filled with food. A variety of fruits, bread, lamb, duck, pork, and lots of wine. Your hands float around the punch though, reminding you of the first time you tried Egyptian beer. You ended up drunk with Marcus Acacius, laughing on the sand and soon both ended up naked. You frown, trying to forget that messy night.

“You’ve been oddly quiet these past days,” said Lucilla appearing by your side, grabbing more fruits and placing them on her plate.

“I’ve been busy”

“Have you met Macrinus?” She said pointing in disguise at the man who laughs with some senators and your brothers.

“He’s been around for some time. But I don’t like him” you confessed.

“I’ve also met his poet gladiator” you added, opting to not look at her eyes because she responded very shocked.

“What?”

“He wants to kill Acacius for the death of his late wife, avenge his homeland, etcétera etcétera. I told him not to because we plan to free the city. You can’t proceed with the nonsense of taking him out of the Colosseum. Your son can’t be the alibi to start a revolution, Lucilla” you said whispering. She gasped in shock, wondering how you knew already. All while you carefully watched if any of your brothers or that nosy man were looking. Not even Acacius was looking.

You sigh, shrugging and looking at the woman.

“As soon as he came out wielding that sword in the arena, your face said everything. Then just by hearing his mysterious backstory. It was obvious, Lucilla” She didn’t say anything else, so you continued.

“I shall repeat myself once again. You won’t encourage Acacius to get your boy out of the Colosseum.”

“Why not?” you chuckled at the woman.

She was very pretty, sweet and caring. No wonder why the general loved her.

“You and your husband were lucky that I found out one of your maids heard everything and was about to spill it”

“What did you do, y/n?” She asked tired, thinking destiny was so meticulous and how you had ended up in such a position to hear and stop the maid before chaos unleashed.

“Let’s say I granted her eternal silence,” you said, Lucilla sighed, understanding. And before she could thank you, you spoke again.

“Wait till Lucius is in the arena to save him. And stop looping Acacius into this madness, you’ll make him get killed” She understood everything by the way your eyes looked at her. It shocked her, but she remained calm as you left to sit at the table. Only a woman in love spoke with a mix of venom and sweetness like that.

Taking a seat beside the General, he turned to look at you.

“What were you talking about there with Lucilla?” He asked in a very low but deep tone.

“Just gossiping about Senator Brutus and his new wife…” he knew you were lying but tried to act normal.

“Princess y/n… How true are those rumors about you breaking the jaw of a tiger?” asked a scribe, making you look away from Acacius, Lucilla returned to the table and your brother was already laughing at you for something you couldn’t hear.

“Well… it’s true, domine.” The table burst into laughter. Only the general and his wife remained silent.

“You did what?” Asked Acacius looking at you in horror.

“A princess shouldn’t be in combat” added Macrinus, making you set your eyes on him.

“Oh I am a princess but I’m also a soldier, domine. And I have to thank my brothers because they made me a woman capable of wielding more than one weapon by sending me to war” The twins stopped laughing. Geta sipped from his wine and returned to you.

“That’s true. While you were there getting battle scars, Caracalla and I focused on diplomacy, ensuring we gained more land” You want to laugh at his face. The council did that, not the twins.

“Did you ensure the poor were stable by cutting from the rich? Did you do the math to financially cover each branch Rome rules, Geta? Or did you and Caracalla just point at lands on a map to get like prizes?”

“y/n…” Acacius whispered your name, trying to make you stop. The tension has risen very quickly.

“You have one task, soror. To give us India. A woman shouldn’t even be speaking on the table” Caracalla said when you were about to stand up and burst out. Marcus grabbed your hand under the table.

And immediately calmed you down.

“I’m only saying you should wisely rule this great empire. Do not let it fall…”

Soon the chatting turned into drinking after the awkward moment. When most of the men were getting drunk you returned to the table, cautiously grabbing food again. When you looked up, you encountered the image of Acacius kissing Lucilla. And it made your blood boil.

In a thick piece of fabric, you placed bread, some fruits, cheeses, and a small piece of lamb.

“What are you doing?” you nearly screamed when you noticed Acacius standing by your side.

“I’m grabbing food”

“Isn’t it a little late to eat again?” He wasn’t judging you, he never would, but he was very curious.

You would start up a little fire after seeing the painful image of him kissing his wife.

“It’s not for me…” before he could ask you you sprinted away. His blood boiled too, his hand firmly grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“What are you playing?” He asked.

“Playing? I’m definitely not”

“Is this some kind of punishment for what I told you days ago?” You sighed.

“I didn’t mean to say it was nothing. But… you have to wait, y/n” Acacius whispered and you chuckled.

“I’ve waited long enough to realize you will always be trapped in a marriage with two different kinds of love. And Lucilla will never love you like you want because her heart will always beat for that gladiator whose name was carved from the Colosseum”

You had raised your voice, Lucilla was looking at you two, and everyone else was drunk. So you violently flinched away from the man, who looked at you with a mix of pain and rage.

You leave and he immediately sends a guard to follow you in disguise.

“We must talk,” Lucilla said to Acacius, taking his hand.

He nodded.

…

What did that man have that made you feel safe? He didn’t protest when you walked inside his cell. He didn’t demand you to go away. He quietly lets you inside, talk, and explain yourself.

Two visits filled with food from your dinners were enough to let him know you had no intention of killing him. Your curiosity must’ve been too big, his eyes too attractive, and an odd vibration that warmed your chest.

To be honest, you had no idea why you came back to him. You just felt something. And you hated to admit it.

“If the emperors have made your life so difficult, Why didn’t you leave?” Lucius asked. He had eaten everything you gave him and was sitting beside you on the dirty floor.

“Every time I tried to escape, I couldn’t make it far enough. So I stayed and accepted my fate. To serve them will keep me alive ” he nodded, finally understanding why you hadn’t revealed yourself against the evil emperors.

“You didn’t come down here just to talk”

“I didn’t. I- I guess I just want to believe you’ll do something greater than I have always tried. Everyone talks about your rage but I think you quite act like a prospect hero… with honor” you revealed and wanted to cut your thong like you did with that old maid. You hated oversharing. But instead, Lucius chuckled and you frowned confused, expecting him to talk.

“You reminded me of my wife…”

“How so?”

“She said similar things to you” Most unexpectedly, you blushed. Thankfully the darkness of the cell made it unnoticeable.

“I’m trying to find a way to get you out of here before your mother does something rushed”

“I was very harsh with her”

“How couldn’t you? I would have behaved the same way. But she loves you and she doesn’t want to let you go just when she found you” Lucius smiled once again, making you remain still, unsure of what to do next. Soon you realized the sun was very close to coming up again.

How many hours had you spent talking with the rightful Prince of Rome?

“I must go, Geta and Caracalla will know I spent the night away,” you said standing up, trying to clean the mess your dress had become.

“Will I see you again before that revolution happens?” You smiled, walking back near him.

He was tall, you had to completely raise your head to face him.

“The final day of the games is closer. I’ll bring you more food and I’ll try to see what will the next encounters look like”

“Thank you. I judged you too fast…” he said and you chuckled.

“You still have time to change your mind”

You didn’t notice when he closed the distance. Just when his face had been inches away from yours, you gasped.

But neither of you two protested, your lips touched his at the same time.

Tasting the wine you brought him made you feel intoxicated. No intrusive thoughts appeared while you kissed him.

You could only taste his passion, his need to take control. But all his hidden softness too. One of his hand caressed with softness your cheek and the other grasped your neck.

“Stay safe, Lucius,” you said as you moved away from him.

…

The whole day was lost because you spent it sleeping. Only when you woke up for dinner, did you learn you had missed the games of the day. But Lucius was alive at least. You dreamt of his kiss but when you woke up you had an odd sensation in your stomach. Confusion filled you and then… ache.

As you brushed your hair, you got lost looking at a red candle. It had been a present from your father some years ago. A red candle to be lit whenever you felt like you needed to feel love, he had said.

The wise emperor had wished to see his daughter with her true love. Just like had always wanted but couldn’t.

There was a broad shadow that you spotted through the mirror. It made you pull out a silver knife and point a the figure.

Soon the cape was removed and you sighed but also gasped shocked to see Acacius standing in the middle of your room.

“What are you doing here?” You asked worriedly, standing up and hurrying to close your windows.

“You had spent all these past nights in the Colosseum,” he said, sounding a little angered.

“Now you’re spying on me, Acacius?” He sighed exasperated.

“What are you doing with that gladiator?”

“What do you care?” You asked with defiance.

“He’s going to get you in trouble, princess y/n” Your eyes pierced his, but you decided to move away, leaning against the towers of your bed.

“He deserves more. And not only him, but every slave we brought and all those we left in ruins” you admitted, looking at the fire of the candle.

“They do, but it’s not our duty, at least not yet. We need to focus on the plan we have…” you wanted to roll your eyes and yell at him, his wife could’ve ruined everything and he was only paying attention to you.

Only paying attention to you?

“Stop going to see that man”

“His name is Hanno and I’ll visit whenever I desire” you spit out with bitterness and you knew he was angry. Acacius clenched his jaw and sighed once again. Under his cape rested his armor, his hair messy, and his scars fading.

“Why? Because he makes you feel things?”

You remained quiet. As simple as it was, his question took you by surprise.

“I-… I don’t know. I had no reason to go back to him, but I did it anyway”

“Oh heavens, y/n. Don’t you see that I’ve always told you to wait? Because I’m counting every golden coin I have to give you that house on the island you always point at. To leave Rome with you…”

It took you on a curve. You didn’t know what to say, only the tears wanted to be present.

His hands found your hips and his lips seek yours. Sometimes, while being overseas, you two would argue. And the only cure was to be silent and kiss after a day of ignoring each other.

This time feels different. You feel so confused.

His forehead softly bumped yours and you two stayed like that for some time.

“If you had those ideas to fulfill with me. Why do you remain married, Marcus?” He smiled.

“That’s different, satis. I was set to marry when you were very young. I just can’t undo it.”

“Why do I feel like you’re only doing this because you feel pressured?”

“It’s not like that”

“Either way you wouldn’t tell me that you love me. So it’s in vane…”

“BUT I DO LOVE YOU!”

You frowned, biting the inside of your cheek. For a moment you thought you could only hear how your heartbeats slowly thumped. What you wanted to hear for years had been delivered. It felt good, even right to hear it. And when you were about to believe it, something clicked.

“No, Marcus. You just realized you hate the idea of me falling in love with someone else. Even worse when it’s the son of your wife”

Without the strength to say anything else, you moved away. Your feet quickly dragged you out of your room, and then out of the palace.

You walked through the streets of Rome, seeing all the hunger, poverty, the lack of love from the government.

By midnight you arrived at the shore. The warm sand cured your bolting mind.

There was an imminent battle coming up. You had a place in the rebellion. And yet you had to be only thinking in two men. Who had made a mess of you in a matter of days.

You had nothing with any of them. It was just the causality of what they made you feel. Only one had made you feel utterly in love once. A little boy that always carried for you as a kid. No tears, no pain, just that little boy being your other half.

But there was no little boy now.

Lucius made you feel like the woman you would’ve been if you had escaped Rome years ago.

Acacius made you feel adored like the woman you turned into wasn’t as bad as you thought. He believed in you.

But it wasn’t enough. None of them were enough. Your mind was spiraling and you realized you were sobbing in the middle of the dark. You can hear and faintly distinguish the sea. You had cracked, like the fallen fruit every poet and philosopher always mentioned.

And even when you knew you had to only focus on the war, you still didn’t know what to do. You barely knew the men that had you losing it.

_________________________

Taglist: @stargirl-mayaa @willowpains @nicolebarnes

I don’t love the ending but I genuinely don’t know who should reader end up with. PLEASE SEND IDEAS!!

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #gladiator x reader #lucius verus x reader #lucius verus #paul mescal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius

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sinofwriting · 7 months ago

Text

Clingy - Ollie Bearman

Words: 1,211 Summary: Ollie just wants to touch his girlfriend. Which is a bit of a problem when the public doesn’t know about your relationship. (Requested)

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Ollie Bearman adores his girlfriend. The sky is blue, Charles Leclerc is a future world champion, and Ollie Bearman adores his girlfriend. Those are facts of life as far as he is concerned.

But honestly he dares anyone to not adore her. She’s perfect. Her eyes shine, lighting up and nearly glittering. She listens attentively to everything and everyone. Her hand perfectly fits in his. She always has a sarcastic comment on hand. He has hundreds of thousands of things he loves about her, adores about her, and they all make her perfect.

And it’s hard for him to pick one thing he loves the most about her. There’s the excitement on her face that greets him every time they see each other. Or how she rubs at his earlobe when they fly together. Maybe it’s how she knows all of his favorite things, from snacks, candy, music. But really, it’s the way she lets him cling to her.

He always has to be touching her. It embarrasses everyone they know, the way he just clings to her, gluing himself to every inch of her that he can. His parents, his mom especially, pleads with him to give her space, to let her breath, but he can’t help but touch. Her best friend, every time she sees them, always groans, telling them to get a room. Dino’s face screws up in disgust, usually mock. And she just laughs, running a hand over him, leaning more into him, silently letting him know that it’s fine and that she wants him to touch.

But now, she won’t let him touch, cling, and he pouts.

“Baby,”

He whines, reaching out for her, but she stays where she is.

“Ollie, if you touch me now, you won’t stop.”

“I know.”

Her hand comes up to rub at her chest. “And you can’t do that or fans will find out.”

He shakes his head. “They won’t! We’re only around Prema and they all know not to post photos of us.”

She looks unsure.

“No fans will be able to see us. Please let me hold you. And I’ll stop as soon as we leave this area.”

She still looks unsure but opens her arms, stepping forward and he quickly meets her.

His arms wrap around her tight, hands finding their way underneath her shirt, to get some much-needed skin contact.

“This is so much better.” He breathes, eyes closing as he lets the feel of her wash over him.

Thirty minutes later when they move to go to Prema’s motorhome, he doesn’t stop touching her. His arm slung around her shoulder, keeping her close as he kept dipping his head down to brush his lips across the top of her head, no matter how difficult it makes it to walk. He’s so wrapped up in her, and her in him, they both fail to notice the person taking a picture of them.

Then later when it’s dark and all the fans and press are gone, only the teams are allowed to still be at the track, a group of them all go to where the fans sit on camping chairs and blankets, sitting on the grass somewhat close together.

“This is nice.” She murmurs.

He smiles, moving a little so she can rest against him. “Isn’t it? We don’t get to really ever hang out like this. I mean at restaurants and clubs, sure. But there’s never this many of us at the track together and chilling.”

She looks around at the drivers that came with.

Dino, Paul, Jak, Christian and Pepe are all throwing something at each other. Luke watches them and is clearly trying not to laugh as they keep nearly dropping whatever they are throwing. Dennis is fiddling with his phone that’s connected to the speaker he brought, Arthur standing behind him also looking at the phone screen.

“It’s a good group.”

He laughs, “well, I would hope so since they are all my friends.”

“You have more than I thought. Track friends.” She clarifies. “When we first got together, I thought maybe you’d have two or three. But you’ve got nine, they all are amazing.”

“It’s too bad Fred couldn’t be here.”

“Yeah.” She agrees. “But we’ll see him next week.”

He doesn’t really think about the day. It was just a normal Thursday, it was whatever. He went over the data he needed to, did a few interviews, did some funny stuff for socials. The two things that stick out are her being there and him being able to cling to her and the hangout they had.

He wakes up on Friday to his girlfriend not beside him, but rather standing at the foot of the bed. “What happened?”

“A fan took a picture of us yesterday. And Christian posted a few photos on his Instagram story last night and in the very background you can see us.”

“Fuck.” He breathes.

“Yeah.”

“We’ll just have to be a bit more careful today.” He finally says, sitting up.

She gives him a look, “I think it might be best if I stay here for the rest of the weekend, or just stay away from the track.”

“What? No!”

“Baby, I love that you want to touch me all the time. I would never change that about you.” She tells him, moving onto the bed and holding his hand. “But, we are supposed to be secret. And y’know, we tried me coming to a race and now we know that we can’t do that.”

He thinks about her words for all of a second before shaking his head. “No.”

“Ollie.”

“No.” He tells her. “I know that we were supposed to wait until like August to be public, but it’s not like everyone doesn’t already know that I’m signed with Haas for next year. And I’ve already signed the contract with them. They can’t rip it apart because of this.”

He sighs when she doesn’t say anything, carefully taking her face in between his palms. “Let me worry about what Haas might or might not do. This is on me after all for being clingy.”

Her hands come up, fingers wrapping around his wrists. “I love that you’re clingy.”

Ollie smiles, blood rushing to his face at the quiet words. “It will be okay.” He tells her, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “Promise.”

“Okay.” She agrees, smiling at him. “Just promise me that you won’t put your hand in my back pocket.”

His eyes widened, “You can’t ask me to do that. That’s like asking me not to kiss you.”

Her nose wrinkles as he presses a kiss to it. “I can ask that. I don’t think we need pictures of us with your hand on my ass.”

He pouts, hands moving from her face to her hips, giving them a squeeze. “But it’s so nice.” He whines before sighing. “Fine. But only if I can put my hand under your shirt.”

“Well, I can’t deprive you of everything.”

“Exactly.” He grins.

She shakes her head, but there’s a smile playing on her lips as she gets off the bed, extending a hand out to him. “C’mon baby, let’s get ready for our first appearance as a couple.”

#f2 imagine #formula 2 imagine #ollie bearman imagine #ollie bearman x reader #f2 x reader #formula 2 x reader #sins fics

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whosscruffylooking · 2 months ago

Note

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.

#paul mescal x y/n #paul mescal fic #paul mescal x reader #paul mescal #paul mescal imagine #paul mescal x you

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justnatoka · 3 months ago

Text

Jealous? Nah.

David x GN! Reader

Word count: 872

Prompt: "OH you're jealous!"

David was in a particularly foul mood tonight. The cheery atmosphere of the boardwalk seemed to just flow by him without any effect, as if a dark cloud was hanging around him, shielding him from all the fun. The boys noticed it too. Their leader has been quiet for a while, chainsmoking one cigarette after another.

The more attentive among them – meaning Dwayne – quickly figured out what was going on. All he had to do was follow David’s gaze to where it has been fixated for a while. From where they stood, they had a perfect view of one of the vendors selling jewelry. And in front of that vendor were you and Michael.

You were talking away about one thing or another, picking up a bracelet and turning it around in your hand, all the while seemingly having no idea how Michael’s eyes were lingering on you. He was leaning towards you, taking in your words with attention, smiling every once in a while at something you said.

David wanted to bite someone. He tried to convince himself it was only his imagination, that there was no way Michael would be so bold as to go after his partner. He also didn’t believe that you would reciprocate if he did. Still, when you started laughing at something Michael said, the melodic sound travelling to them above the white noise of the boardwalk, something in David’s chest tightened aggressively. He didn’t even notice his hand was clenched into a fist until Marko addressed him.

“Hey, man, you okay?”

David blinked a few times, trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling that was growing in his gut.

“Yeah, I’m good. Why?”

Marko hesitated for a moment.

“I don’t know, dude, you looked like you wanted to kill someone.”

David scoffed, and took a drag of his cigarette.

When they didn’t get any further response, the boys reluctantly settled into conversation once again, leaving their leader to sink back into his less than pleasant thoughts. He couldn’t help himself, his gaze wandering towards you. Then he almost crushed his pack of smokes as he saw Michael holding up a necklace between you, seemingly trying to decide how it would look on you, smiling warmly at you when he came to a favorable conclusion. David snuffed out his finished cigarette, and instantly ripped out the next one from the package with decidedly more force than needed. He was on the verge of getting up to go and break Michael’s hand.

That was the moment Paul decided to loudly voice his realization.

“OH you’re jealous!”

Silence fell over the group as they all stared at him. Dwayne wanted to bury his face in his hand. Sure, Paul could be surprisingly observant, even when he was high as a kite, it was something he had surprised them with on a number of occasions. However, he seemed to just fuck up the timing every single time.

“What?”

Paul sensed the warning tone in that single word. He shrunk under the intensity of David’s glare.

“I mean…,” he started hesitantly, “am I wrong?”

The accusation – and the possibility of it being right – didn’t sit well with David. He wasn’t the type to get jealous, he told himself. Why would he be? And especially at Michael? Ridiculous.

You slowed your steps as you approached the group, immediately sensing the tension in the air.

“What’s going on?”

Four heads whipped in your direction and you almost took a step back. You didn’t miss the tightness in David’s jaw before it was replaced with a much softer expression.

“Nothing, kitten, everything’s fine.” He held out his hand and you took it without hesitation, sighing in contentment as he drew you in close to his chest. “Did you find something you like?”

“As a matter of fact I did! Or more like Michael did,” you corrected yourself and David’s gaze darkened for a moment.

“Did he now?” He felt a smug satisfaction at the visible chills that ran down the boy’s spine as he glared at him over your head.

“Yes, and see? It looks like you.”

He dropped his gaze between the two of you and there, in the middle of your palm sat a small pendant in the shape of a bat on a simple silver chain. It had little yellow eyes, and the spiked up hair at the top of its head looked remarkably like his own. He blinked at it in silence for a few long seconds, and you seriously started to worry that he didn’t like it.

You yelped in surprise when he suddenly drew you into a hug. It was rare for him to show this much physical attention in public, so it took you a moment to realize what was actually happening before melting into his embrace, a knowing smile secretly stretching on your lips.

“Will you help me put it on?” you asked him after he finally broke away from you, his hands lingering on your hips.

“Of course.” The fondness in his eyes as he looked down at you filled your heart with giddy warmth. It confirmed that you chose wisely, because seeing him like this was worth everything, even a little jealous misunderstanding.

Tags: @stinkydove @pandemoniavenus

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

#tlb 1987 #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys david #tlb david #tlb david x reader #drabble

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n0vazsq · 2 months ago

Text

Found the way | PA17 x Reader

pairing . . . soulmate!paul aron x soulmate!mixed!race!reader

summary . . . Meeting your soulmate after talking telepathically for years certainly was something.... especially when he's a race driver and you're an intern working in the same place

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 1.4k+

warnings . . . none! just a note that i'm going to refer to paul by his name, but reader doesn't know what his name is until they met!! conversations in their mind are in italic!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . wow. this was something to write.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . For as long as you could remember, you and Paul had been connected. It wasn’t something you had asked for, but it felt like it was always meant to be. Every day, you heard his voice in your head, clear as day.

The first time it happened, you had been terrified. You were alone, walking home from school, and suddenly, you heard a voice in your mind.

"Hey, are you okay?"

You had frozen in place, looking around, trying to figure out who had spoken to you, but no one was there. It took weeks before you realized that the voice in your head wasn’t a hallucination or some kind of weird glitch in the world.

It was Paul.

He explained to you that he had the same ability, and he was just as confused as you were. The two of you quickly learned that you could only communicate telepathically, no spoken words, no physical contact, just thoughts exchanged in the quiet spaces of your minds.

And so, over time, you both built a connection. You got to know each other in the most intimate, invisible way. You shared everything. The good, the bad, the joys, and the fears, without the hidden stuff that often came with speaking out loud.

You’d both learned to help each other when things felt overwhelming, offering support when life was too hard to navigate alone. But there was always this unspoken rule; you couldn’t tell each other your names.

At first, it didn’t matter. You both laughed about it, making jokes and creating silly aliases. You had ended up calling him Blondie because of the way he described his hair; golden in every way, from the light shine to the warmth it seemed to radiate.

He’d called you Curls, a teasing nickname for your wild, curly hair. It became your thing.

He was Blondie, and you were Curls, and for some reason, it was perfect.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t both curious. You wanted to know more about him. You wanted to meet him, see what he looked like, hold him close when he had a hard day. But there was always that one, simple rule; no names.

And yet, after years of talking like this, you both had grown closer than anyone else in your life. You had supported each other through heart ache, listened to each other’s frustrations, and celebrated each other’s victories. You couldn’t wait to finally meet in person.

"I’m counting down the days, Curls. I just know you’ll be even more beautiful than I imagined." Paul’s voice echoed in your mind one night, his thoughts filled with affection.

"I can’t wait either, Blondie. I swear, I’ve been dreaming about it." You closed your eyes, smiling, already imagining the moment when you could finally hold him, feel his warmth. "It’s all I think about."

The world outside of your telepathic connection seemed so small. Conversations with friends and family felt distant, almost irrelevant. All that mattered was you and Blondie. But you couldn’t help the anxiety that gnawed at you, what if he didn’t like you in person? What if it was awkward?

"Do you think it’ll be weird when we finally meet?" You asked, the uncertainty creeping into your thoughts.

"No." Paul’s response was immediate, confident. "I’ve been talking to you for years, Curls. It’s going to be perfect."

You had talked to him about your job internship, how you were working behind the scenes in the paddock for a Formula 1 team, assisting with everything from logistics to preparation, and experience to complement your course in motorsport management.

You’d mentioned how exciting, yet nerve wracking, it was to finally get the opportunity to be in such a fast paced environment, learning from professionals in the industry. You’d also shared how there was a possibility, just a small one, that you and he could meet face to face for the first time during the race weekend, though you hadn’t expected it to happen so soon or so unexpectedly.

And now, here you were, standing in the bustling paddock of a Formula 1 race, running around trying to do your job done amidst all the excitement. You were barely keeping your focus, distracted by the knowledge that you were just a few meters away from meeting him, your soulmate, the person who had been in your head for years. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt as nervous as you did.

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

You were walking with a team member down the crowded pit lane, carrying a stack of equipment for a quick setup. As you navigated the sea of people, your foot caught on the edge of a toolbox, sending you tumbling forward.

You braced for impact, but before you could hit the ground, a pair of arms shot out, catching you in mid fall.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was go-"

Your heart skipped a beat as you collided with his chest, the impact leaving you breathless. You instinctively looked up into his eyes and froze.

There was something… something so strangely familiar about this person. His bright blue eyes locked onto yours, and everything else seemed to fade away. It was as if you had always known this person, and the realization hit you like a wave.

This was him.

"Curls?" His voice was low, hesitant, but somehow it sounded exactly the same as it did in your mind. You felt a jolt of recognition.

"Blondie?" you replied, nearly breathless. You weren’t sure if you’d said it out loud or thought it, but the words came so naturally.

His eyes widened in disbelief. "You-how-how are you here?" He looked around, clearly trying to piece together the situation.

You smiled, heart pounding in your chest. "The internship."

For a moment, neither of you knew what to say. The shock and joy of the moment hung between you like a heavy blanket, but the connection you felt in your chest was undeniable.

You had been waiting for this day for years, and now that it had finally arrived, you were left speechless.

He held you at arm's length, still unsure, his fingers lightly brushing your arms as though confirming you weren’t just a figment of his imagination. "I-I didn’t expect… This wasn’t how I thought it would happen. I thought we’d… I don’t know… meet some other way."

You laughed, a sound that felt more freeing than anything you had ever experienced. "I didn’t expect it either. But here we are."

"Yeah," he said, grinning now. "Here we are."

And just like that, you both stood there, in the midst of the busy paddock, overwhelmed by the realization that everything you had shared in your minds for years was now physical, real, and right in front of you.

"What's your name, then? Mine is Paul."

You told him your name, smiling when he repeated it, as if testing the way it felt on his tongue.

Paul’s gaze softened as he stared at you, the same intensity and adoration you had always felt from him radiating in his eyes. "I’ve waited for this moment for so long. It feels… unreal."

You reached for his hand, your heart fluttering as your fingers brushed his. The sensation was electric, like every piece of you had clicked into place. "Me too," you whispered. "I’ve always known it was you, but now I can see you, and it’s more than I ever imagined."

He smiled, a tender, almost shy expression that made your heart swell. "So, you’re actually here… and I’m not dreaming?"

"I’m here, Blondie, or Paul," you reassured him softly. "And I’m never going anywhere else."

And then, without thinking, you both moved closer. You didn’t need words to tell him how much this moment meant.

You simply leaned in, your lips meeting his in a kiss that felt like the peak of everything you had been waiting for. Soft at first, but as if everything else in the world had faded, you deepened it, feeling a connection so deep it was almost overwhelming.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Paul rested his forehead against yours, his grip on your hands tight. "I can’t believe it. You’re here. We’re here."

You smiled, the weight of the years of waiting slowly lifting off your shoulders. "We’re here," you agreed, "and I’ll never leave."

He kissed you again, this time more passionately, as if he never wanted to let you go. And in that moment, you knew, more than ever, that no matter the distance, no matter the years, the connection you had was real.

You had finally found your way to each other.

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dumbbitchenergy17 · 1 month ago

Text

Viral

Plot: A viral clip of you practicing a fight scene has Paul entranced

Word Count: 1.5K

Pairing: Paul Mescal x Reader

Warnings: fake fight scene, Paul obsessed with his girlfriend, laughter giggles, potential spoilers to Where the Wild Things Are [read here]

—————

The press junket for Gladiator 2 had been an exciting time traveling around the world visiting the sights and promoting a great project they made. While Paul was enjoying this work vacation it would have been a hundred times better if his girlfriend was with him and all the friends she made with the cast. But you were off bouncing between working in Canada or California for the TV series and film you had the joy of being a part of.

Paul unintentionally was starting to tune out the interviewer fiddling with his cuffs his mind drifting to thoughts of his girlfriend.

“This is a question for the both of you,” the interviewer’s voice drags Paul back into the moment, “If you could add anyone into the Gladiator world who would it be.”

It’s instantly when Paul says, “My girlfriend.” This causes a burst of loud laughter from both the interviewer and Joseph who was in the interviews with him.

“I would also want your girlfriend in this film,” Joseph jokes and Paul flushes with embarrassment at how fast he responded.

“Well you have worked with Y/n before,” the interviewer mentions and Joseph nods.

“She’s a delight to work alongside. She gave a hundred-ten percent effort into a Quiet Place, I’m sure Paul can confirm with her other works. I’d think she would’ve been a fantastic addition to this film.” Joseph explains and Paul nods a smile across his face.

“Paul I’m sure it would be exciting to be working alongside her?” he directs his question at him.

“I’d love to work with her, like Joe said she’s dedicated to every project and takes a deep care into every character she works with.” The compliments flow easily from him. He could spend hours praising you for your accomplishments and anything involving you. He was probably your biggest supporter outside of your own family or Pedro one of your closest friends.

“Well this is a perfect segway to more of a comment since you both know or worked alongside her,” the interviewer says swiping on their tablet, “Obviously you both know of her being cast for The Last of Us spin-off show with Y/n playing the lead with your gladiator co-star Pedro Pascal. Well this morning she posted a little behind-the-scenes sneak peek to a sequence, I was able to get Pedro’s comment on it.” That both piques their attention as he turns the tablet around for them to see before starting the video.

The video shows the open stunt space with you standing in the middle, “Ready?” whoever is behind the camera says and you give an enthusiastic thumbs up. On the outskirts of the frame is two stuntmen who look twice your size.

“Alright and fall!” Your body hits the mat hard groaning as if thrown off a horse before it’s a fluid dance. One of the men rushes up to use holding a fake hatchet and swinging it down on you but you swiftly move out of the way. The choreography is seamless as you disarm the hatchet as the stuntman pulls out a knife and it drags across your shoulder. You swing the hatchet with a growl and fake hit the guy's jaw as he falls onto his back where you drive the knife into his throat.

You stumble up to your feet the hatchet still in your grasp and coming up before you is the other stuntman holding a fake rope throwing it over your neck and starting to drag your back the camera following you two. One of your hands grasp the rope fighting violently in his hold with your other hand you drive the hatchet into his leg. Use both of your hands to keep the rope from choking you.

“Bam!” Someone behind the camera yells and the stuntman ‘choking’ you drop to the ground as you fall forward onto your knees coughing heavily while scrambling to grab the hatchet from the side. Pedro with a prop rifle appears as you swing the hatchet to defend yourself but are disarmed by him. You pause recognizing him as Joel before he pulls you to your feet putting pressure on your shoulder ‘wound’.

“Cut!” Immediately the tense energy fades as your pain expression turns joyous as people applaud and cheer at the performance. The ‘dead’ stuntmen get up patting your back and you look over at the camera.

“One of many fight scenes completed!” You smile throwing up a piece sign as Pedro wraps an arm around your shoulder before the video ends.

“Holy shit,” Joseph mumbles and Paul is silent state of awe. It was always a joy to see you act or see your work. But you felt completely natural in this role like it was crafted for only you to play.

“The video was posted this morning and has already gained millions of views. I know if I’m ever in an apocalypse I’ll want her protecting me.” the interviewer says and Joseph and Paul laugh at the comment.

“Yeah that was brilliant really,” Paul is at a loss for words and Joe elbows him.

“Starstruck Paul?” That makes him and the interviewer laugh.

“How could you not be,” He says pointing at the still frame of you and Pedro, “She’s a daredevil to the core, you know Joe if there’s a crazy stunt or anything that potentially causes harm she’s begged not to perform it. But the whole world has seen she’ll always end up doing it.”

Joe nods, “She’s an adrenaline junkie is what she is. During the final scene where my character and hers are running from the pack of Death Angels on the dock. In the film where she trips and I don’t know where it came from like a seasoned pro just completely breaks her fall and rolls through it then is back running until we jump into the water.” Joe shakes his head in still wonder.

“Because she’s a stuntwoman in her past life,” the interviewer says making the two men laugh.

“I’ll be sure to pass along that comment,” Paul chuckles, “But most likely she always likes projects with fight scenes or complicated stunts. Her working on both The Last Of Us and The Mandalorian and Grogu is feeding her craving.” With that, the conversation filters back into the film, and other topics are more focused on the actions.

Paul and Joseph are given a short break before the next interviewer comes in. His hairstylist tweaks a few stray hairs when he feels a buzz from his pocket. A smile crosses his face, seeing who was calling. In your contact photo from your first date together, you’re giving your best smolder while wearing his sunglasses.

“Ahhh, it looks like the loverboy’s got a special call,” Joe teases from his seat. Paul rolls his eyes but answers Facetime. His smile brightens when he sees your wide grin fill the screen.

“Hi, hope I’m not interrupting anything.” You say and he shakes his head.

“No just got a break before the next round,” he says, shifting the camera slightly to Joe.

“Hi Y/n!” He sends a wave with you happily responding giving an exciting ‘Hi Joe!’

“What are you up to?” Paul asks bringing his phone back to show him trying to decipher what he was seeing. You were dressed casually like you were going to exercise wearing one of his graphic tees.

“Got some weapons training, they’re going through all the stuff from pistols to archery. Just wrapped up with archery I’m a pretty decent shot which sucks cause it's the weapon I use the least.” you laugh panning the camera around, showing him the range you were in, “I feel like I’m being trained for war with all the shit I’m trying. Like I completely forgot she uses an automatic it’s very intimidating.”

Paul smiles at your rambling, “Hey if we ever get into an apocalypse you’ll be skilled in all that while I got my sword and skirts.” He prides himself on causing your laughter through the phone, even Joe laughs at his joke.

“If you’re wearing those skirts at the end of the world I’ll protect you with my life,” That makes Paul chuckle, “Alright I gotta go the group just came back. I love you and I’ll call you tonight, well your version of tonight.”

“I love you too, wait baby!” He calls out almost forgetting before you hang up, “I saw your video very impressive.”

You bit your lip to stop the smirk covering your face, “Thank you, oh, and quick news for the Mandalorian they just worked up this stunt where I get wired up and thrown out a window I’m so excited!” Paul and Joe can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of your enjoyment. If someone heard you out of the context that you’re excited to get thrown out a window they would be concerned.

“Well enjoy getting thrown out a window babe,” Paul says and you give exaggerated goodbyes and kisses before he hangs up. Joe gives him a smug look shaking his head,

“Your girlfriend’s crazy you know that.”

Paul can’t help but laugh and sigh dreamily, “Yeah I know.”

#where the wild things are series #tlou fanfiction #tlou #paul mescal x y/n #paul mescal fanfic #paul mescal x reader #paul mescal #lucius verus #lucius versus x reader #gladiator movie #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x platonic!reader #pedro pascal fandom #pedr

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keepingitformyself · 24 days ago

Text

older (and wiser): ii

A/N: second chapter! i don’t know when the next time will be that i update. i start uni in a few days and i also am working through a personal issue i have to deal with. anyway— every place that’s mentioned like coffee shops, restaurants, etc..are real so if you’re ever interested in looking into those you can! cus they’re real! ALSO in case anyone hasn’t noticed the face claim for paul is paul mescal. please also keep in mind that this is based off of “past lives” meaning it will follow SOME key moments in the film. not all, just SOME. so if you haven’t seen it i’d recommend it, it’s a great film!

synopsis: you and wanda meet for coffee.

pairings: wanda maximoff x reader

genre: angst, some fluff

warnings: oh gee

part i

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

you don’t know what to make of it when you hang up the call.

walking back into the living room, phone in hand, you gulp down your feelings, trying to process the aftermath of what had just happened.

paul looks up from the book in his lap, already closing it and setting it aside as you come into view. his eyes immediately catch the scrunch of your brows.

“talk to me,” he says softly, reaching for your hand and gently pulling you to sit next to him.

you want to escape the moment, but there’s nowhere to go.

“it was wanda.” you admit, your voice laced with an uneasiness that made you feel unsure of what he might say.

paul’s lips part slightly as quiet consideration washes over him. his gaze shifts to the side, and he seems lost in thought.

after a few seconds, he finally says, “oh.”

of course, paul had previously known of who wanda maximoff was to you. it was brought up fairly early in your relationship, both of you drunk on cheap whine, over a lazy night in when it felt like it was easier to be honest than anything else.

he knew there was an ex. he knew that much. an ex that had left you with the unbearable weight of what once was and how good it could be. something in you told you he deserved to know. so you did, you told him and you ended in tears laying against his chest.

fortunately, that night did very little in scaring him off.

wanda was your first—and last—real relationship in college, and coincidentally the one that also impacted you the most.

having her at your side built you up in so many ways. she inspired you so much during your time together. creatively, emotionally, or spiritually. you felt so much around her, so much for her, and she was just as equally showing of that.

there were so many sides of her that you enjoyed experiencing, so many sides of you that had come out because of her. it was something so equal in tenderness and intensity.

to you, wanda maximoff was like a paradox of ideas you felt you could actually understand.

but it wasn’t perfect. the end of your relationship with wanda had been devastating. you were both just months away from graduating when everything began to come apart at the seams. wanda had been cast for the lead in a series that would require her to go overseas for six months, while you had been offered an internship to shadow journalists abroad. you were both doing things you loved, and maybe not together, but you knew this was needed.

and despite your insistence that you could make it work long distance, wanda wasn’t sure she could handle being so far from you. for nearly three years, the two of you had been inseparable. the idea of such a drastic change felt impossible to her.

you agreed it would just be a break—nothing permanent. you promised you’d be back together in no time. but the distance only made things harder. wanda became incredibly hard to reach, always busy, always consumed by work.

it took a toll on her, and she became emotionally unavailable in a way that left you feeling more alone than ever.

determined to salvage what was left, you decided to fly out and see her. wanda had promised to meet you, had said she’d gotten the day off just for you.

you planned a whole dinner in your hotel room, excited to finally see her again. but wanda never showed up. you waited and waited, your heart sinking with every passing hour. when you finally heard from her, she chalked it up to being busy, apologizing profusely.

but it wasn’t enough. her inability to show up had made something clear: the relationship you both claimed to have cherished wasn’t there anymore. so, you ended things for good.

“why did she call?” paul finally asks. his voice careful where you feel like your answer to his question is one he isn’t fully sure he wants to know.

you put your hand over the one that holds yours, biting your lower lip as you find the words to say what you need to. how does one say that their ex misses them? and wants to see them?

“she wanted to see how i was doing,” you start. “i told her about everything, us being engaged, she said she saw and congratulated us.” you smile faintly, recalling the words, but it falters as you contemplate your sentence. “she wants to see me. she was…pretty insistent on it.”

“and what did you say?” paul’s curiosity is evident, though his tone remains measured.

“i said yes to meeting up with her.” you admit. you grip his hand tighter, bringing his palm to your lips and kissing it, as if letting him know that he has a say in this too. “but if you don’t want me to, i wont meet with her.”

paul remains deep in thought as he stares at your entwined hands. he could say no, could ask you not to go, but he knows that’s not who he wants to be. he wouldn’t want to keep you from something that might heal a part of you you’ve never fully recovered from—especially when it’s a part so closely tied to who you are now.

looking at you through his lashes, he smiles softly. your thumb hasn’t stopped rubbing the back of his hand. he’s certain none of this could ever truly hurt what you’ve built together. not when he has you now, so wholly.

“i want you to go see her.” he says finally, his words tinged with a gentle lilt. his eyes soften, and he adds, “if there’s even a chance that it’ll give you closure, or just help you carry less weight, then i think you should. i trust you.”

your eyebrows rise in surprise at his words. “you want me to?” you repeat.

“uh…well, no. it’s not that i want you to. it’s that i wouldn’t want you not to, d’you see? does that make sense?” he pauses, running a hand through his hair.

“look we’re gettin’ married soon, and i love you. from what i’ve heard about wanda, she meant a lot to you.in a way, she led me to you. i wouldn’t want to hold you back from somethin’ that might be good for you. if seein’ wanda is that, then you have my full support.”

your eyes lock with his, a grateful smile on your face at his understanding. you lean over to kiss his cheek,

“than you,” you murmur softly.

——

wanda was the first to arrive at the café you’d picked out. you’d agreed to meet by 2:15, but wanda had been restless, unable to stay in place once she reached her hotel just hours earlier.

caffè reggio felt enigmatic in its own way. the compact space, with small tables scattered across the room, gave it an almost congested feel, but the patrons kept to themselves, creating an atmosphere of quiet solitude.

the low lighting added an intimate touch, the kind wanda found herself grateful for; a setting that made sense for seeing you after all these years. still, she hadn’t expected you to choose a place that felt so…secretive. not that she was complaining.

as soon as she sat down, a server approached her with a gentle greeting and offered to read her the menu. she listened half-heartedly, her mind preoccupied, and eventually settled on an espresso martini and a dessert she barely registered.

“will that be all?” the server asked politely.

wanda hesitated, glancing at the watch on her wrist. it read 1:57 pm.

“actually,” she said, chewing the inside of her cheek, “i’m meeting someone in about fifteen minutes. could you come back in ten and fix me a vanilla latte for them? double shot, please.”

the server nodded, jotting it down before retreating.

the minutes felt like a drag as wanda waited. each minute passing made her heart feel heavier. she’d waited in the quiet corner she’d picked for the both of you. alternating between anxiously biting her lip as she stared out the window, or checking her phone for the time.

for a second, she feels grateful no one has seemed to notice her, making it easier to revel in her own anxious energy in peace.

when you finally entered, wanda exhaled quietly, her chest tightening as everything seemed to slow. she took in the sight of you, cataloging every detail. your hair was longer, your features more defined, carrying a depth of experience that hadn’t been there before her. for a moment, wanda froze, torn between wanting to disappear completely or letting you see her as she was.

but then your eyes met hers, and you smiled. a smile that was so familiar, it sent a deep ache through her chest. she rose quickly, her arms stiff at her sides, unsure whether to offer a handshake or reach for a hug.

you decided for her, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around her shoulders. your left hand brushed slightly against her back as you said, “it’s good to see you, wands.”

wanda tries not to break into to tears immediately at having you in her arms, of seeing you, of breathing you in. it’s all overwhelming in it’s familiarity.

you pull away first, looking up at her with a soft smile until you decide to sit on the chair across from her. wanda remained standing a beat longer, awkwardly smoothing her pants before sitting down.

“how…how are you?” she asked, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap.

“i’m really good.” you replied, taking a sip of the latte she ordered for you.

“that’s good.”

the words hung in the air for a moment, and you both began speaking at the same time.

“what have—”

“it’s really good—”

you both broke into quiet laughter, the sound cutting through the nervous energy. it felt shared, familiar, like all those years ago.

“you go first,” you offered, tone light.

wanda smiled nervously, glancing down before meeting your eyes again. “i just wanted to say…it’s really nice to see you again.” her voice was soft, almost hesitant. “and…you look good.”

“thank you,” you replied sincerely. “you do too.”

there was another pause, and you leaned forward slightly, gaze steady. “how have you been?”

wanda shrugged, a faint smile playing at her lips. “working. that’s really all i know how to do.”

you frowned at the self deprecating comment, shaking your head slightly. “you know, i’ve actually kept up with your work over the years.”

her brows furrowed in surprise. “really?”

“oh yeah,” you said, grinning triumphantly. “paul and i caught an early screening of his three daughters. it was incredible. it even brought him to tears—more than me, actually.”

wanda couldn’t help but smile, though she faltered slightly at the mention of his name. “he knows about us?”

you nodded, your expression gentle. “yeah. he’s a fan too, by the way.”

“that’s…kind of strange,” she admitted with a soft chuckle. “but also really flattering.”

the moment of levity passed, and wanda hesitated before asking, her voice quieter now, “when’s the wedding?”

your smile shifted, still warm but with a hint of wistfulness. you looked away briefly, as though picturing the scene in your mind. “next september, ideally. paul’s parents have this farm in ireland. it’s got these sprawling green fields and so many goats.” you chuckled lightly, glancing back at her. “it’s beautiful that time of year.”

wanda nodded, a faint smile on her lips as she absorbed your words, though her chest felt heavier with each one. “that sounds…lovely,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“i’ll send you a postcard,” you joke, a light laugh escaping your lips. wanda forces a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. she wishes the context were different, that the distance between you wasn’t so vast, so final.

the silence lingers for a beat too long. it’s palpable, heavy with everything that’s been said—and everything that hasn’t.

you don’t why the next words come out of your mouth.

“you should come over for dinner.” you offer, your smile easy and disarming. you don’t want this to be hard for wanda. anyone could see there’s something still there. and you know wanda—you know her tells. there’s something she wants to say but can’t. this is your way of making her feel better about feeling it, regardless of if you can even help it.

“pardon?” her brows furrow. “to your place?”

you nod as casually as you can. “when do you leave?” you ask.

wanda looks away for a second, clears her throat. “i haven’t booked a returning flight yet,” she admits sheepishly. “was kinda hoping i’d find a reason to stay.”

you nod, smiling knowingly, but you don’t comment.

“come over for dinner,” you say again. “paul is an excellent cook.”

wanda almost smiles, recalling all the times you tried to cook for her but failed miserably. she was usually the one that did the cooking. it’s strange—comforting, even—to think that someone else is now treating you that way.

still, she hesitates. the idea of being in the same space as him, in the home you’ve built together, feels almost unbearable.

“only if you’re sure,” she says.

you sit up straighter in your seat. “it doesn’t have to be weird. i think you’ll like him. he’s a really good man, and i’d really love for you to meet him. and he already thinks you’re talented.”

wanda looks down at her hands, still processing your offer. “you’d really want me there?” she asks, voice above a whisper.

“of course,” you reply sincerely.

wanda shakes her head, her expression caught between hesitation and yearning. “i don’t know.” she says. “that kind of sounds like a lot… and i don’t want to make things awkward. for you or for him.”

you shake your head as if she had just said something silly. “it won’t be. paul knows about us, and he’s one of the most understanding people i’ve ever met. he’s never been anything but supportive.”

wanda let’s out a short laugh, the kind that almost cracks. you think you see tears forming, glinting faintly in the windows light.

“he sounds perfect.” she murmurs, a hint of sadness evident.

“he’s not perfect.” a soft chuckle. “no one is. but he’s perfect for me.”

wanda smiles sadly. “okay.” she nods. “only if you’re okay with it.”

“i’m more than okay with it.” you assure her.

a faint smile tugs at her lips and wanda nods. “thank you,” she says softly.

“thank you,” you reply, warm and firm. “for coming all the way to new york. for wanting to talk.”

you start to gather your things, ready to head out. “i do have to leave now,” you say with an apologetic smile. “i’ve got a meeting with an editor in half an hour.”

once you’re standing, you look directly into wanda’s eyes. “thank you for the latte. it was great seeing you.” you say, and mean it. “i’ll be in touch.”

and with that, you’re already on your way out the door.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagines #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch x reader

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