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couldeatthatgirlforlunch · 5 months ago

Note

OMG I have an idea

What if a villain hit reader with a love potion and the Yandere JL has to deal with reader being obsessed with one of them until it wears off🙏🙏😭(I LITERALLY LOVE YOUR YAN JL WORKDGHBJB)

A Day in Life: Love Pollen

Synopsis: A day in your life where you get hit with love pollen, get kidnapped, and are rescued by the Justice League.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader

Tw: 18+; PDA; Dry humping; Kinda public sex bc they're in a deserted island’s beach, so it's basically out in the open but no one’s around; Dubcon/noncon bc, you know, love-and-kinda-sex pollen; Also maybe drugging bc of that; Writer is the Justice League's weakness; Hal Jordan is a little shit; Needles; English is not my 1st language.

Word count: 2,1k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: I imagine the League’s marketing will have a hard time after this little stunt, I mean, there's no way no one caught that on camera

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

The Legion of Doom had a plan. They invaded a political event in Metropolis, with the presence of the Justice League as the president’s security team, the League being the target. First, Poison Ivy release pollen throughout the whole city, as a distraction, making people hallucinate that they were in love with one another. Crazy in love. It would be okay, if her experiment didn't cause chaos. All over the streets, some people were having sex out in the open, some were fighting and killing because of jealousy and cheating, some were committing robberies to give their “loved ones”. It was pure chaos and only the quick reflexes, powers and gadgets from the League spared the team from getting hit.

Half the team went to deal with the distraction, saving and restraining people, giving them the antidote, etc. The other half, took care of the villains. After a few hours, the Legion of Doom was taken down and the city’s security and health workers took over the job, the chaos being a lot easier to contain since they were spreading the antidote through the air, it would take at least an hour to spread it throughout the whole city, and then the ones who somehow weren't able to breath it, but mostly, just the mess left behind was the real issue.

You were standing with the rest of the crew on the event, watching the League and the politicians discoursing for the press and TV. When the mayhem started, for the first few seconds, you got startled and froze. Looking between the League, the scared crowd, and the villains invading the place. Suddenly, you breathed some thick smoke and your eyes shot to the heroes, silently urging them to do something, when your eyes locked on Green Lantern’s, the pollen’s effect kicked in. You got dizzy, something snapped, and then everything changed.

Wait, when did Green Lantern's jaw got so sharp? And his muscles so defined? Oh, and he was so big and tall. Did he do something to his hair? Wow, his ring is glowing now and he's flying. He's so cool and powerful. A true hero. Shit, he's coming in my direction. Hehe, he's using a construct to lift me and my coworkers to a safer place as if it was nothing. Imagine flying with him every day. How does he look without the mask? Ugh, must be perfect, if his jaw and lips were anything to go by. I can't even see the color of his eyes! And- and please stop looking me in the eyes and touching my shoulders and asking me if I'm okay, of course I am, I'm with you. No. Nooo. Come back here! Let the others deal with the bad guys, I'm right hereee! Nooooo!

You were depressed and deflated the whole time your soulmate was away. A journalist team from outside the city arrived at some point and you were able to watch the fight — Normally, Lois Lane would do the transmission, but she's too busy making out with her cameraman, she was in the crowd too. —. You started crying watching your lover fighting with Sinestro. When he won, and everything was fine, was when you finally calmed down and just started anxiously waiting while ignoring your colleagues strange antics, one of them even hitting on you. Didn't she know you and Green Lantern were in love?

When the League was back, the paramedics were starting to give the crew the antidote, you were next in line, however, as soon as you saw the heroes, you broke into a sprint.

— Green! — You yelled, catching everyone off guard. Even more so when you jumped and hooked your legs around the brunette’s waist, your arms around his neck, and kissed him passionately.

Hal was so shocked that it took him two seconds to reciprocate the kiss, ignoring completely the gasps from his friends. You moaned against his lips, mumbling a jumbled mess of “I love you”, “I missed you”, “was so worried”, “so glad you're back”.

Someone groaned.

— Batman, just give them that damn antidote before I lose it. — Batman grunted and Hal struggled but managed to separate your faces for a moment. You tried to push your face towards his again, but he grabbed your jaw. You kept forcing your face against his hand and whining. It was really cute, and your willingness and the previous sensation of your lips ignited something in his belly, yet, he looked to the side just in time to see Batman preparing the needle, the rest of the League sulking on the side and glaring at him.

His mind worked rapidly, ignoring the texture of your soft lips pampering kisses against the skin of his hand. When he felt the tip of your tongue, he made a decision.

A bad one.

— Yeah. I don't think so. — Green Lantern conjured several chain constructs, chaining the League's arms and ankles to the ground. It wouldn't hold off the ones like Superman and Wonder Woman who were strong enough to break it, and Martian Manhunter who could just invade his mind or use his intangibility, Flash was also pretty capable of taking him on, but Hal was smart and sagacious. Still holding you, he made a rocket construct around you both and took off.

Really, a terrible idea.

Superman and Wonder Woman, in a cry of rage, broke the chains. Diana unsheathed her sword, her feet not even touching the ground anymore, flying, ready to go after the traitor. Martian passed through the construct, while Superman went to break Batman and Aquaman free, Flash vibrated fast to rearrange his particles and also escaped.

— We need a plan. — Batman’s voice stopped the amazon warrior from going in a hunt for blood. He was already stressing over what the marketing team could do to fix this.

— A plan? We can defeat the enemy and retreat my darling if we go now! — Wonder Woman barked.

— Green Lantern is impulsive. If we go now we can destroy the whole state and hurt (Y/N) in the process. He won't give them up easily.

— Batman's right. — Superman agreeds. — Flash, follow them and see where they’re going. — The speedster nodded and took off.

Barry shook his head, cursing his idiot best friend the whole way.

Between the whole team, Hal was clearly the only one who would be okay with you falsely loving them. The rest wanted something more genuine for you. Some of them would settle for you not loving them as much as they loved you, some wanted you to feel exactly the same amount of what they felt. Hal still loved you just like them, but he always had that certain level of insecurity that craved to be better than anyone, to impress, making everything a competition, and the sensation of being the only one to have you could certainly cloud his judgment and accept your love, even if fake. He just thought he could compensate by treating you the right way, and not just using that opportunity to do whatever he wanted with you, just because he could and you wouldn't complain. He could make this about you both, and not just about him.

Either way, every one of them (thought) they deserved their fair chance at winning you over.

— Manhunter, can you still read his mind and tell what he is thinking? — Manhunter nodded and his eyes started glowing, there was a second of silence before he spoke.

— It's getting weaker as he gets more distant. It's purely impulsive thinking. Green Lantern isn't considering the consequences and means no harm against Earth or us. — Batman nodds.

— That's a shame. I mean harm. — Wonder Woman mutters, Batman glared and Superman side-eyed her. Batman turned his communication on.

— Flash, tell us when they stop moving.

— If he touches them, I will personally kill him. — Aquaman darkly states. Superman took a step in his direction, facing him head on.

— No, you won't. — The two stared at one another intently, until Batman broke the silence.

— Focus. We don't have time for this. — The dark knight stated.

— We need to be collected and work as a team to act smoothly on our plan. — Martian reminds them. Wonder Woman steps down again and sheats her sword. They all form a circle and start planning.

The sky was never this blue and the sand never this warm and soft. Even with the warmth of the sun being so intense, you were laying on a palm tree's shadow, and the air was flowing just fine. What was actually making you sweat was the dry humping you and your soulmate were doing.

You don't remember ever getting so aroused in your whole life, and can't remember ever desiring someone so much. You could kill someone if they dared to try and steal him away from you.

Hal felt you carding your fingers through his hair and pull slightly, giving him shiver, and he squeezed the flesh of your hips. You moaned against his lips at a particularly stronger wave of pleasure. The clothes were a curse, stopping you from feeling the real him, so you desperately started clawing at his clothes. Green Lantern breathily chuckled.

— Relax, hot stuff, we have time… — He whispers with a smirk. The man held your hands and laid them on the ground, above your head. You just moaned, more needy, and pushed your hips against his, eliciting a hiss from his red and swollen lips.

His hands started unbottoning your shirt and freeing the fabric out of your pants. You kept your hands were they were and watched, eyes wide open, when he descended kisses from the middle of your chest, going south, only pausing at your waistband.

As much as you wanted to feel his mouth more, seeing him so covered and not being able to properly touch him was making you restless, so you sat up, surprising him, and started pulling up the fabric at the back of his neck. Hal chuckled and shook his head, humoring your needs. He helped you take it off, then pushed your own shirt down your arms, until it was off.

You paused, admiring his adonis body. Your heart raced and eyes watered, never having seen something so perfect your whole life. Even his scars were beautiful. His chest hair and happy trail looked really soft and somehow he looked even more muscled, strong and beautiful. You wonder why you rejected him before.

Hal Jordan basked in your amazed gaze, loving to show off, especially while doing nothing. He frowned weakly, and gave a reassuring grin when you pouted, slumped and frowned.

— What's this, sweetheart? I thought you were enjoying this. — To lift your mood, he started running his hands up and down your sides.

— I wanted to see your face… — Hal remained silent for a few seconds. They would tell you their identities eventually, and that fact kept being brought up on reunions. They all knew at some point, you would have to know, to really start a relationship, yet, Batman, and his paranoia, kept them all from telling you. Sometimes, it felt like a sabotage, but mostly, it made sense, since the guy had a bunch of kids, who could be in danger if the information somehow got leaked, still, you couldn't trust to let them in, if they didn't let you in. That was the only reason you didn't trust them, of course.

Also, a face was not a name. Hal wasn't famous, so how bad could it be? Especially if it would turn you on so much, and when you looked so damn cute. His own lust was also influencing his critical thinking, which was already second place to his impulsiveness.

Hal bit his lower lip and brought his face closer to yours, a few centimeters away from having your noses touching.

— Okay… Take it off… — You let out a happy squeal and reached up with both hands. Your heart pounded with anticipation, making you go slower to savor the intimacy even more. Hal closed his eyes when he felt the gentle tug, against his wishes to watch your eagerness and your lip biting in anticipation. His heart was also pounding.

You saw his right eye closed and his thick eyebrow, when suddenly, a loud noise rang out, scaring the shit out of you and prompting Hal to fix the mask again, get up and assess for danger.

He finally fell to his senses and realized something.

He just took the worst decisions ever.

Everything happened too fast. Flash was on your side, holding a needle to your arm, and Green Lantern was being thrown around by a red and blue blur. Only the feminine rageful scream gave you the hint to who it was.

You got up, ready to die for your soulmate, when the antidote kicked in.

You threw up.

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punkshort · 6 months ago

Text

In Another Life | Part I

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader (time travel au)

Chapter Summary: Your brother and his friend surprise you after work with a handsome stranger crashing on your couch who claims to be from Ancient Rome.

Chapter Warnings: language, food consumption, major romcom vibes, mentions of prostitution, mentions of OC death, mentions of OC pregnancy, flirting, sexual tension

WC: 6.5K

A/N: this is a soft/romcom Marcus Acacius mini-series. Heavily inspired by Kate & Leopold. Also, let's just assume Ancient Romans spoke and could read English.

Series Masterlist

Time was of the essence. He had to move quick.

People would say he was a coward, no doubt his legacy would be tarnished, but if he escaped with his life, so be it.

He didn't bother with spare clothes, just an extra set of sandals and food thrown into a satchel before he crept down the dimly lit hallway, careful not to wake one of his many servants.

He loved his palace. It was a place of peace and comfort for him, but come morning, it would be ripped away and he would be thrown into the pit. A general, Rome's deadly sword and the Emperor's right hand man, would become a lowly gladiator. Trained to perform and kill for amusement.

And all because he refused to play the Emperor's sick game.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't help train another legion of young men half his age to fight and die for their vanity. For their greed. When the Emperor announced his new task, all he could think of was his unborn son. He would be of age now, had he lived. He could have been training him to die.

He padded down the stone steps softly, hardly making a sound, his combat training serving him well. He managed to get just outside the city limits while it was still dark, but he could see the glow from the sun breaking the horizon. He didn't have much time to find a place to hide. He was still too close, and no doubt warriors would be looking for him once Geta realized he had fled.

Gods above, if they found him... his fate would be far worse than one of a gladiator.

He stumbled across a small clearing, head twisted around to make sure he was not being followed when he tripped over something large and heavy.

"Oh, shit!" he heard a young male voice exclaim.

Quickly, he unsheathed his sword and aimed it toward the voice. Confusion painted his face when he saw the unusual clothing and utterly strange contraption behind him. Before he had a chance to say anything, leaves rustled and he swung is sword towards the noise. Another young man, similarly dressed to the other, emerged from the thicket.

"State your names. Quick."

"Uh..." the first man trailed off, hands raising slowly in the air. "D-Danny. Daniel. And this is... Victor."

"Dude! C'mon! You know I -"

"Silence!" the general roared as loud as he dared. "What is your business here?"

"Science! Just... experiments. And the like," Danny said hurriedly, glancing at Victor for help. He nodded.

"Yes. Experiments."

"And are you citizens of Rome?"

They paused and looked at one another again.

"We are citizens of... York," Danny said.

"It's new," Victor added.

The general looked back and forth between the two men before ultimately deciding he did not have the time to quarrel with them and they did not appear to be a threat. He dropped his sword to the side and glanced around.

"You did not see me," he said sternly, turning to leave.

"Wait!"

He glanced back over his shoulder, pausing.

"Are you running away?"

"Fleeing," Victor added quietly.

"Fleeing?" Daniel repeated.

"I do not see it fit for you to ask such questions of someone above your station," he snarled. The two men exchanged worried looks before continuing.

"We're leaving. If you're looking to jet, you can... y'know," Danny said, jutting a thumb over his shoulder towards the strange looking contraption.

"Can you get me to Greece?"

They grinned and nodded.

"Sure, dude."

The general glanced around once again, his brow furrowing when he saw the light stretching high into the sky, brightening the landscape and soon, giving his position away.

"Then I accept."

He sheathed his sword and stomped over to the men, startling them both with his intensity.

Victor turned to unlock a door, struggling a bit before it popped open and crawling inside. Danny stuck out a hand and gave him a nervous smile.

"What's your name?"

His eyes dropped down to the frail looking hand before him, then slowly, as if he couldn't decide, lifted his arm to grasp the inside of Daniel's forearm, giving him a vigorous shake.

"General Marcus Acacius."

"What the fuck?" you grumbled under your breath, rereading your brother's text.

Danny: I have a friend crashing on the couch, won't stay long

Shuffling your bag onto your other shoulder as you walked down the bustling city street, you tapped out a response.

You: It better not be Lizard.

Danny: It's not, but he's here 2

Danny: Just visiting

Fucking Lizard. You've known him since he was maybe ten years old and you were fairly certain he never matured past that age.

Given you had two extra people waiting for you in your already cramped apartment, you decided to grab a couple pizzas on the way home instead of the sushi you had been thinking about all day. Choosing to be a little selfish, you made one of them a white pizza, it being your favorite, and made your way home with the last bits of energy you had left.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you walked into that day.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you stepped into your apartment, door wide open behind you, two pizza boxes balancing in one hand as you stared blankly at the massive man standing with his back to you in the middle of the living room. He was dressed in some strange type of robe that fell just above his knee and his head was bent, looking at something on your coffee table.

When you cleared your throat, he swung around and defensively placed a hand at his waist. That was when you noticed the massive and very real looking sword at his side and your blood ran cold.

"D-Danny!" you yelled, your eyes glued to the stranger's hand. As if he finally sensed your fear, he dropped his arm and straightened up.

"Apologies-"

"Danny!" you yelled again, louder this time.

"Yeah? Hey! Sorry," Danny said, hurrying into the room with Lizard following on his heels.

"Oh, pizza? Sweet," Lizard said, reaching for the boxes and brushing past you as if an armed man wasn't standing in the middle of your home.

"Who the hell is this?!" you exclaimed, pointing towards the stranger while glaring at your brother.

"I told you already, he's a friend who's crashing on the couch for a few days," he replied, following Lizard into the kitchen, pizza the only concern at that point.

"My lady," the man began again, "please allow me to explain."

"My lady?" you repeated with a scowl. "I thought you guys stopped playing Dungeons and Dragons after high school."

"That's not -" Danny shook his head with a mouthful of pizza, "this is General Acacius."

"General?" you said quizzically, raising an eyebrow first at Danny, then towards the large man in your living room. "Be serious, Danny."

"He is!"

"I promise, what he says is true," the general chimed in, taking a step closer and stretching out his hand. You sighed and dropped your things onto your table.

"I'm too tired for this, it's been a long week."

The general frowned, hand still outstretched. "Daniel, please explain to your mistress she is not to challenge men above her lover's ranking."

You balked and gagged. "Lover?!"

"Mistress?" Danny said at the same time with a similar look of disgust. "Gross, dude, she's my sister."

Something in the general's face shifted when he learned you were siblings and he looked at you with renewed interest. "Ah, so you do not belong to another?"

You rolled your eyes and grabbed a plate, tossing a piece of white pizza on it before Danny and Lizard ate it all. "I don't have a husband, no. And that's a super sexist thing to say, I don't care if you're role playing or not."

Turning around to exit the kitchen, you were surprised to find the general somehow snuck up on you. Standing just a few feet away, you nearly ran into his strong, broad chest. He lifted a hand to tilt your chin up and whatever biting remark you had locked and loaded died on your tongue. You finally allowed yourself to get a good look at him. Dark, brooding eyes. Thick, brown curls dusted in grey, the color matching his beard. Sharp, angular nose and pouty lips.

Okay, so he was good looking. That didn't negate the weird dress and obvious mental illness.

"Your name?" he murmured softly, finger still hooked under your chin.

You cleared your throat and responded with your name, to which he nodded before dropping his hand. His gaze drifted to your plate and his nose wrinkled. "What is this you are eating?"

"Pizza?" you replied, squeezing up against your counter so you could get past him and get some space. "Help yourself."

"What is pizza?" you heard him ask Danny. You collapsed onto the couch with a groan and took a bite, fully not in the mood for whatever weird shit your brother had going on.

"It's Italian, you'll like it," Danny replied.

The three men trailed in from the kitchen to join you in the living room, your moment of peace and quiet over.

"This appears to be some bastardized version of flatbread," the general said, lifting the piece of pizza and giving it a tentative sniff. "What is this red? Some kind of pepper paste?"

"It's tomato sauce."

"Alright, enough with this bullshit please," you said, but the men ignored you.

You watched as he took a bite and almost instantly spit it out. "This is vile."

"Hey, that's authentic New York City pizza. Nothing vile about it," Lizard said. You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration.

"General - I'm sorry, I'm not calling you that. What's your real name?"

"That is my real name," he answered, cocking his head at you from the other end of the couch.

"General Marcus Acacius," Danny told you, cursing under his breath when he dropped some cheese on his shirt.

"Okay, Marcus," you began, but he shook his head.

"It is quite inappropriate for you to -"

"I don't give a shit, I'm not calling you General like I'm in the fucking army!"

The room fell quiet as you glared at Marcus, daring him to say another word. When it became evident he wasn't going to, you took a deep breath and continued.

"If you don't like the sauce, there's another pizza in the kitchen without it. Go try that," you said, voice a little softer now. He nodded and rose to go find the white pizza, leaving just the three of you for the first time.

"What the fuck, Danny?!" you whispered angrily. "Why the hell is there a guy in a dress pretending he's a fucking general in my home?"

"He is a general," Danny whispered back. "From Ancient Rome. I'll explain everything later," he said, straightening up when Marcus's footsteps approached.

"This is far better. Thank you, my lady."

"Oh, look at that. You already have something in common," Lizard said with a fake, syrupy voice. "You both love gross pizza."

"Thought you just said authentic New York City pizza can't be gross?" you sneered.

"Boom! She got you, Lizard," Danny laughed. Marcus looked around the room, confused.

"You said your name was Victor, did you not?"

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth with a napkin.

"Lizard's just his nickname. His real name is Victor," Danny explained.

"Yeah. No one calls me Victor. Just like no one calls you Marcus," Lizard explained.

"Only those dearest to me are allowed to use that name," he explained. "Such as a parent or a lover." His eyes flickered up to you quickly before focusing on his pizza once again.

"Does that make you his lover now?" Lizard teased. You kicked a foot out and jabbed him in the hip.

"Shut up," you grumbled.

"Do you not follow the proper steps to obtain a lover in your land?" he asked, genuine curiosity painting his face. "It is much more than simply calling another by a name. If a man were to deem a woman acceptable, he would make an arrangement with her father to wed." He scratched his chin in thought for a moment before adding, "unless, of course, she is a whore."

Lizard and Danny doubled over, howling with laughter while you stared daggers at them both.

"Did I say something to warrant such laughter?" Marcus asked you. You rolled your eyes.

"No, you did not."

"Rule number one, General," Danny said, gasping for air and wiping the tears from his eyes. "Don't call girls whores."

Marcus looked taken aback.

"I meant no offense. A whore is a common profession where I am from. There is no shame in it."

"Alright, can we stop talking about whores?" you asked, exasperated.

"Yeah, good idea. Let's find you some clothes to wear and we'll set up the couch so you can sleep. It folds out, don't worry," Danny told Marcus.

"My tunic should suffice," Marcus said, glancing down at his clothes.

"Uh, not in New York, man. Might stick out a little," Lizard joked, then stood to take his plate back in the kitchen for seconds.

"Depends on what side of town you're on," you mumbled under your breath.

"You can borrow something of mine," Danny said, standing up to go to his room. "You're a little bigger than me but I think I have something that'll work."

You eyed Marcus up over your plate, taking in the finer details of his appearance. "Where are you from? Really?" you asked. He turned to you with a sigh.

"Rome."

"Come on. You can drop the act, they're gone," you said, narrowing your eyes at him.

"I promise, I am telling you the truth," he replied, his gaze boring into you so intensely that it left you spellbound for a moment. "Your brother and his comrade found me on the outskirts of the city with some... contraption. They said they would take me to Greece, however it is clear this is not Greece."

"A contraption?" you repeated nervously. Oh, fuck.

He nodded. "I had never seen anything like it. I do not know what happened but once I entered, there were bright lights and a loud crack and... I must have lost consciousness. I woke in your lounge, utterly confused."

"Shit," you whispered, putting your plate down so you could angrily scrub your face with your hands. Danny, although very irritating and far too dependent on you for basic survival, was incredibly gifted. His intelligence stunned his teachers since he was three years old. He was doing long division at five and became fluent in Spanish at seven. By the time he entered high school, he had grown extremely interested in science, where he met Lizard. For years you had witnessed failed experiments and fireballs in your backyard, but you saw all their successes, as well. Since they were fourteen, Danny and Lizard talked about time travel and you always brushed them off, even when they began to build different devices throughout the years that claimed they were on the verge of a breakthrough, but of course, nothing ever came of it.

Until now.

No, that was crazy. There's no way they actually travelled back in time to Ancient Rome and returned with a Roman general... right?

"Why were you going to Greece?" you asked, tiredly dropping your hands in your lap.

He paused for a moment and you could see the hesitation in his eyes. He opened his mouth to reply right when Danny emerged from his bedroom with an armful of different clothing options.

"We'll go shopping tomorrow and find something else that will fit," he said, sheepishly handing over the clothes. Marcus slowly reached out and set them down on the cushion next to him.

"Thank you."

"Hey, I'm gonna take off," Lizard said from the kitchen doorway.

"Yeah, alright. Hey!" Danny said, swiveling around before he left. "You'll be back tomorrow, right? I need your help with the... thing."

You narrowed your eyes in his direction but remained silent. Once Marcus was asleep, you planned on having a very heated conversation with your brother, so you saved that little tidbit for later.

"Yeah, sure thing, man."

You stood to clean up the leftovers while you listened to Danny explain the concept of a pull-out couch to Marcus, then after that, a bathroom. The more time that passed, the more nervous you became. What if this was real? Was it even possible?

Quietly, you stepped out from the kitchen. Marcus was sitting on the edge of the pull out mattress, hands clasped together between his knees as he stared blankly at the floor. For the first time, you felt bad for him. If everything he said was true, he had to have been so confused and scared.

"Hey," you said softly. He lifted his head with a jolt of surprise. "Here's some water," you said, offering him a plastic bottle. He took it and frowned. "You twist the top to open it," you explained, ignoring how ridiculous it felt to tell a grown man how to open a bottle of water.

"Thank you," he replied, setting it down on the floor next to his bed.

"Do you need anything else?"

He shook his head and gave you a small smile. "No, my lady. Thank you for your hospitality."

"You're welcome," you said shyly, inching towards the little hallway that led to your bedroom. "We'll get you back home, Marcus. Don't worry."

He swallowed and smiled again. "Of course."

You smiled back and awkwardly clapped your hands together. "Well, if you need anything at all, just knock on one of our doors."

He nodded and with a sigh, began to peel back the sheets.

"Good night, my lady," he said once your back was turned. You swiveled back around and gave him a little wave, his deep brown eyes looking breathtaking in the evening light.

"Good night."

Flustered, you knocked into the doorframe on your way back to your room. Cursing under your breath and rubbing your shoulder, you slipped behind your door, finally putting an end to your humiliation.

The next morning you sipped your coffee in your kitchen as you replayed the argument you had with Danny the night before once you were sure Marcus was asleep.

"You need to get him back home. Tomorrow, Danny," you had said sternly.

"There might be a slight hiccup with that," he replied, bracing himself for your anger. "The machine needs repairs."

"What the fuck do you mean?!" you seethed as your paced around his cluttered room.

"Don't worry, sis! We can fix it! But we just need a couple days."

"How many days?" you asked with a glare.

Danny shrugged. "Two. Three."

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose.

"A week, tops."

"A week?!"

"Shh! You'll wake him up!" he scolded, pointing angrily towards the door. "Lizard's coming over tomorrow, we'll get working on it right away. Something happened on impact when we returned, I didn't factor in modern day atmospheric pressure originally, but -"

"I don't give a shit what the reason is, you just need to fix it! You have no clue what the ramifications are by keeping him here! You could alter the course of history or something!"

"You watch too many movies," Danny chuckled, but quickly stopped and cleared his throat when he saw the look on your face. "I'll fix it. Promise."

The caffeine hadn't even had a chance to enter your bloodstream before Danny woke and dropped yet another problem onto your lap.

"Do you think you can take him shopping for some clothes today while me and Lizard work on this thing?" he asked as he poured cereal into a bowl.

"So now I'm running errands for you?" you snapped.

"C'mon, don't be like that," he replied as he put the carton of milk back in the fridge. The dynamic between you and your brother was wearing thin. It was always up to you to be the levelheaded one while he just allowed the wind to take him wherever it pleased, completely carefree while you harbored all the stress of basic responsibilities.

"Try to just enjoy the adventure for once," he added before messily scooping cereal into his mouth.

"Yeah, right," you grumbled under your breath before bringing your mug to your lips and taking another sip.

"So, is that a yes?"

"Fine," you said with a roll of your eyes. "If only so I can get away from this apartment and the inevitable chaos those repairs will bring. Just don't piss off my neighbors, okay?"

"Deal."

"Good day," you heard Marcus's deep voice rumble behind you. You jumped and swiveled around, gaze flickering down briefly to take in his borrowed clothes. Danny was right, he needed something that fit.

"Morning, General," Danny said with a grin. "Sleep well?"

"Surprisingly, yes. Even with all the noise outdoors... tell me, is it ever silent here?"

"No," you both said in unison. He nodded and looked down at his tunic, which was crumpled up in his fist.

"Do you have a servant I can give this to for washing?"

"That would be me," you said, stretching out your arm. Marcus hesitated for a moment.

"The lady of the house shouldn't have to perform such arduous tasks."

"I agree, yet here we are," you said, taking the tunic and tossing it over your shoulder. "I have to put in a load, anyway."

You changed your clothes and freshened up while listening to your brother scrape together some type of meal for Marcus that he found acceptable, then pressed the button on your tiny washing machine before heading back into the kitchen.

"Ready?"

Marcus glanced between you and Danny while chewing the last piece of a baguette.

"My sister's gonna take you shopping for some clothes," Danny explained. Marcus looked down at his attire and nodded.

"To the market, then?" he asked you, trailing after you as you tossed your bag over your shoulder and walked down the hallway towards the elevators.

"Something like that."

"I have plenty of denar," he said as you jabbed the call button.

"Denar?" you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather satchel filled with unfamiliar coins. You grinned and shook your head.

"Don't worry, I got it."

"Please, your hospitality has already been gracious enough," he said, following you into the elevator when it opened.

"If you can find someone who will take that, then be my guest," you said, tapping the lobby button. He was about to say something else when the doors closed and the car violently jolted, startling him.

"What is this?"

"It's an elevator. It lifts us up and down so we don't have to take the stairs."

His jaw hung open in disbelief until the doors slid open to reveal the lobby, then he broke out into a huge smile.

"Incredible."

But once he followed you out onto the busy New York City street, peppered with pedestrians, bicyclists, couriers, and a sea of vehicles, then his eyes practically bugged out of his head.

"I see now where all the noise comes from," he said to you, raising his voice a bit over the commotion as you walked. It was actually endearing to see him experience the city for the first time, something you took for granted every day leaves most people in awe. It was easy to forget that.

"Stick close," you said with a small smile when you saw him tip his head back to gaze up at the towering skyscrapers.

"What is your profession, then?" he asked as he walked by your side. You noticed with envy that others on the sidewalk veered out of his way, his massive shoulders and hulking frame no doubt the reason, instead of brushing past him, like what most do to you every day.

"I write for a fashion magazine."

"Oh, so you're a poet?" he asked, intrigued. You shook your head with a small laugh.

"No. I write about romance in the lifestyle section. I have a column every month on a different topic and I also pick three reader questions to answer and publish on the website every week."

It was clear he hardly understood what you were talking about, so you stopped at the nearest newsstand and grabbed your magazine. After paying, you ushered him over to a bench and sat down while you thumbed through it.

"Ah! Here we go," you said, proudly handing over the magazine and tapping on the corner of the page.

"'Are Soulmates Real'?" he read aloud the title before frowning at you. You nodded.

"Yeah, I talk about the idea of soulmates and how it's putting too much pressure on the modern woman to find this perfect partner when in reality, they don't exist."

"And how do you know this?" he asked, clearly amused.

"I don't, but I wrote from experience," you shrugged.

"So, since you have not found a soulmate, that means they do not exist?"

"No, it's an opinion, Marcus," you explained, "the magazine pays me for my opinion and outlook on things."

He sighed and closed the magazine with a shake of his head. "I am sorry you feel that way."

"Are you saying you believe in soulmates?" you asked.

"Well, I cannot say one way or another from experience, but I like to believe they exist, yes."

"Do you have a wife or family waiting for you back home?" The thought hadn't even occurred to you before now and you felt guilty, but he shook his head.

"My wife died many years ago during childbirth," he said sadly, and your heart plummeted. "She was young and I had just made rank, so her father arranged our marriage in order to ensure a safe and comfortable life for his only daughter." He looked down at the magazine in his hands but he wasn't really reading it. He was too lost in thought.

"She was with child very quickly after we wed. I had not even known her a year by the time she passed, but the time I had with her was enjoyable. I thought very much one day we would learn to love one another," he said, giving you a sad smile. "Was not meant to be."

"I'm so sorry," you said softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "That's horrible... I don't even know what to say."

"It was a long time ago now. I never did remarry, although I had many offers. I became entirely focused on war, fighting to keep Rome and her citizens safe. It is what I was meant to do," he said, exhaling loudly and looking around. "Is this what you feel you are meant to do?" he asked, holding up the magazine. You laughed, grateful for the change of subject.

"No, probably not."

He grinned and nodded in agreement. "Yes, I imagine you are destined for much more, my lady."

"You think so?" you asked, scrunching your nose self-consciously.

He nodded, his gaze drifting over your face solemnly.

"I do."

If elevators impressed Marcus, then the escalators within Bloomingdale's practically floored him. He was so enraptured with them that you had to nudge his shoulder to remind him to step forward before he tripped when you got to the top.

"This is unlike anything I have ever laid my eyes on," he said to you in wonder, his head rolling around on his shoulders as he gazed around at all the lights and signage.

"Yeah, Bloomingdale's is special," you said dreamily. "Sometimes I get to tag along with girls from work to pick out fashion samples for the magazine. It's always so much fun."

You led him over to the men's section and turned to study his broad frame. "You're probably an extra large," you said as you began to sift through the racks, picking out various shirts in different styles and colors and draping them over your arm. He watched you without saying a word, just occasionally feeling the material between his fingertips whenever he saw something that caught his eye. When you got to the pants, you paused and pursed your lips. Glancing around, you spotted a measuring tape left on one of the registers. Grabbing his hand in yours, you dragged him over and shoved the shirts in his arms.

"Here. Hold these while I measure your waist and inseam."

He frowned for a moment but did as you asked, then jumped when you wrapped your arms around his middle with the tape.

"Sorry, it will only take a second," you murmured, ignoring how muscular and firm he felt under your hands. You took note of the number and flushed when it came time to measure his inseam. You chewed on your lip and glanced around, searching for a worker to maybe do it instead, but none were nearby.

"Okay, I'm going to have to measure the length of your leg," you began to explain. "I need to... put my hand close to..." you trailed off and gestured vaguely towards his lap and it finally seemed to click.

"Oh," he said in surprise, glancing down. He cleared his throat and nodded but you could see the pink creeping up his neck.

"I'll be fast," you assured him, "unless you prefer I find someone else."

"No, that is quite alright," he told you, standing tall and tucking his hands behind his back. Glancing around the store once more, you fell to your knees with the measuring tape. You tried not to think about it, tried not to look, but his clothes were too snug as it was and it was right fucking there.

Jesus Christ, you had to get it together. You were not lusting after a time traveling Roman general in the middle of Bloomingdale's. But it was impossible to ignore the impressive looking bulge right at eye level.

"Okay," you said quickly, standing up so fast your head spun. "Got it, let's go."

You hurriedly dropped the measuring tape back on the counter and swiveled around, looking for men's pants while trying to hide how flustered you were. You grabbed a few pairs of jeans and khakis before adding them to Marcus's pile, and avoiding his eye, you pointed over to the corner.

"You can try them on in there."

You waited outside patiently, listening to him struggle with a zipper. You had to draw the line: there was no way you would help him with that. But when he emerged from the dressing room for approval wearing a nice fitting pair of jeans and a white polo shirt, you kind of missed those tight clothes from before. You gave him a smile and thumbs up and he grinned before stepping back into the dressing room. When he turned around and you saw his ass in those jeans, you tilted your head to the side and raised your eyebrows.

Okay, the new clothes weren't so bad, either.

You picked him out two pairs of pants, an assortment of shirts, and paid before going to the intimates floor to grab some underwear, socks, and pajamas. On the way to the men's section, you passed by some mannequins wearing lacy lingerie and robes. Marcus frowned and tugged on your elbow.

"What is that for?"

You glanced in the direction he was pointing and inwardly groaned.

"It's undergarments women wear," you explained, hoping to leave it at that, but he still had questions.

"What is the purpose of the colors if they are under your clothes?"

You sighed and pinched your nose. "It's for sex, okay?" you whispered to him, looking around quickly to make sure nobody could overhear you.

"Sex?" he repeated at full volume. You shushed him, your cheeks flaring with heat, but he just gave you a bewildered look. "Why must I be quiet?"

"We don't talk about sex in public here," you told him, voice still lowered. "It's inappropriate."

"Why on earth not?" he asked, but he kept his voice soft for your benefit as he followed you into the men's section. "Nothing is more natural or beautiful than sex."

"Yeah, well, I don't have all the answers, Marcus."

"And why would a woman drape herself in such garb? A woman's body is a work of art. It is meant to be worshiped and admired just as it is. One would not hang ornaments off a statue of Venus, so why would a woman -"

"I don't know, Marcus!" you said, grabbing a pack of boxers and then a pack of white socks. "Men just like it, I guess."

He scoffed and shook his head but chose not to say anything further when he picked up the agitation in your voice.

You paid for the rest of the clothes and handed him the bag to carry as you led him to the exit. "Are you hungry What do you usually eat around this time of day?"

"It varies. I quite like fish with some bread and cheese."

You thought about it for a moment before your face lit up and you snapped your fingers.

"I have an idea."

Right around the corner from Bloomingdale's was one of your favorite bagel places. You found a table outside and made him sit then hurried inside to order two lox bagels. You almost grabbed Diet Coke but then thought that might kill him, so instead you got two waters and met him back outside in less than ten minutes.

"Try this," was all you said, handing him a warm bagel wrapped in paper and smelling absolutely divine.

Carefully, he peeled the paper away and sniffed the bagel before taking a hesitant bite. You waited, your own bagel untouched, for his reaction. His eyes snapped up to yours and a slow smile spread across his face.

"This is magnificent."

You giggled and tore into the paper covering your own lunch. "I had a feeling you would like it. Fish, bread and cheese."

He nodded and took a bigger bite. "Very wise. Tell me," he said, wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "How has no one asked your father for your hand in marriage? You are bright, strong and beautiful. I am shocked you are not taken."

You decided to let the taken comment go that time and swallowed your food before replying. "Our parents are dead, first of all. But secondly, even if someone was interested in marrying me, they wouldn't need to ask my father. They just ask the woman directly now."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "My apologies. I was unaware of your parents' passing."

"That's okay," you shrugged. "It was a long time ago. Danny was a teenager and I had just graduated high school." You looked up at him, realizing he wouldn't understand what that meant. "I was nineteen. I had to grow up fast and help keep an eye on Danny," you settled on saying, figuring that would sum it up enough.

He nodded and looked down at his food, quietly thinking over what you said. "Has a man ever asked for your hand?" he asked before taking another bite of food.

You laughed. "Uh, no."

"Why is that humorous?"

You sighed and glanced around. "I haven't exactly dated many winners." He cocked an eyebrow at you and you added, "I seem to only attract assholes."

"Ah," he said in understanding. "I am attracted to you. Does this make me an... asshole?"

Your eyelids fluttered and you nearly choked on your water. "W-what?"

"I said, I am attracted -"

"No, I heard you, I just needed a second to process what you said," you told him, feeling your heart beat loudly in your chest. He tilted his head at you curiously.

"Does this surprise you?"

You laughed and fanned the back of your neck nervously. "Um, yes, a little. People don't usually go around just announcing when they're attracted to someone. They're a little more subtle than that."

"Oh. Have I made you uncomfortable? I do apologize," he said, his deep brown eyes softening as he gazed at you across the table.

"It's okay, I just didn't expect it," you chuckled, waving him off and focusing on your food with a stupid smile stretched across your face. He watched you eat for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching as he replayed what you just told him.

"You did not say if you are attracted to me," he said, drawing your attention back up to him. "Is this because you are not, or are you being... subtle?"

You grinned and shook your head. "You have a weird way of flirting."

He smiled back, the creases next to his eyes deepening. "I told you. Where I am from, sex is not something to be ashamed of. It is enjoyable and discussed often. Unless one has devoted themselves to a life of celibacy."

Definitely not, you thought. He let the subject drop as he finished the rest of his lunch and sat back in his chair, looking around at the cars inching by and beeping their horns angrily. You remained quiet for a few minutes, debating on what to say, if you should say anything at all until you finally decided fuck it.

"I'm attracted to you, too."

His head swiveled in your direction and he grinned. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

You giggled in disbelief before you said, "you're welcome."

Something had shifted between you on the walk back to your apartment. It felt so different from just a few hours ago, and it wasn't just the shocking confession over lunch. You had learned a little more about each other, let the other in and shared personal details about your lives, trusting one another with your vulnerability. And for once, you didn't feel raw and exposed. Strangely, it felt like you could trust him. Maybe it was because you knew he would be gone in a few days and it didn't feel like you had much to lose.

However, when you got off the elevator and walked toward your apartment, the sounds of power tools and shouting coming from the other side of the door, Marcus stopped you. He plucked your hand from your side and brought your knuckles to his lips, brushing over them gently while maintaining eye contact, the entire moment making your hands tremble and your heart to flutter excitedly in your chest.

"Thank you for today, my lady. I had a lovely time with you."

You smiled shyly at him and looked down at the ground.

"Me, too," you replied softly.

And it was then you realized you very much might have something to lose after all.

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#marcus acacias x reader #marcus acacius fanfiction #marcus acacius x f!reader #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius x reader #general marcus acacius #marcus acacius fic #marcus acacius #gladiator 2 fic #gladiator 2 #gladiator 2 fanfiction #in another life fic

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andy-15-07 · 6 days ago

Text

Reunion of love

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female reader Word Count: 1335 warnings: a little smut Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The night was calm, a rare blessing amidst the chaos of war. The air carried the gentle hum of cicadas and the faint, fragrant aroma of blooming jasmine. The garden, bathed in moonlight, glowed with an ethereal radiance. Amidst the neatly trimmed hedges and the scattered marble statues, Y/N lingered in quiet contemplation, her thoughts a mix of longing and relief.

General Marcus Acacius, her husband, had been away for months, leading the legions of Rome in battle. News of his victories had reached her weeks ago, yet the uncertainty of war always lingered in her heart. Tonight, however, there was a strange anticipation in the air, a tug in her spirit that refused to let her retire to their chambers.

She wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders and gazed at the night sky, the constellations shining like scattered diamonds. A soft rustle came from the shadows behind her. Y/N turned sharply, her heart skipping a beat.

“Who goes there?” she called, her voice steady but wary.

From the shadows emerged a figure she would recognize anywhere. Marcus stood tall, his armor glinting faintly in the moonlight, his face rugged and worn yet undeniably handsome. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, and the shadow of a beard framed his chiseled jawline. He carried himself with the confidence of a man who had faced death and emerged victorious, but his eyes softened the moment they met hers.

“Did I frighten you, my love?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

Y/N’s breath hitched. For a moment, she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Then, as the realization sank in, she rushed toward him, her shawl slipping from her shoulders. Marcus opened his arms, and she threw herself into his embrace, the weight of months of separation dissolving in an instant.

“Marcus,” she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. “You’re home.”

“I am,” he murmured, holding her tightly. “And I intend never to leave your side again, not unless duty demands it.”

She pulled back slightly, her hands resting on his chest. “You’re safe?” Her eyes searched his face, looking for any sign of injury.

“I am,” he assured her. “The gods have seen fit to bring me back to you in one piece.”

Y/N smiled, though tears glistened in her eyes. “The gods must favor me, then.”

Marcus cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away her tears. “No, my love. They favor me, for they have given me you.”

She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a moment to savor the warmth of his hands. When she opened them, her smile had deepened, and her voice was playful. “You should have sent word of your arrival. I would have prepared a feast fit for the victor of Rome.”

“And miss the chance to surprise you?” he teased. “Never.”

He bent his head and kissed her, a kiss that spoke of longing, love, and promises unspoken. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them under the watchful gaze of the stars.

When they finally parted, Y/N took his hand and led him to a stone bench near the fountain. They sat together, the cool night air wrapping around them like a gentle embrace.

“Tell me,” she said softly. “Tell me everything. How was the campaign? How do you fare?”

Marcus hesitated for a moment, then began to speak. He recounted the battles he had fought, the strategies that had brought victory, and the lives lost along the way. His voice was steady, but there was a weight to his words, a heaviness that spoke of the toll war had taken on him.

Y/N listened intently, her hand never leaving his. When he finished, she squeezed his hand and said, “You carry the burden of Rome, but you need not carry it alone. You have me, Marcus. Always.”

He looked at her, his eyes filled with gratitude. “I know,” he said. “And it is your love that gives me strength.”

They sat in silence for a while, the sound of the fountain mingling with the whispers of the night. Then, Marcus stood and held out his hand.

“Come,” he said. “Let us not waste this night. I have been away from you for far too long.”

Y/N took his hand, her heart fluttering. He led her through the garden, their footsteps light on the cobblestone paths. They paused by a marble pavilion, its columns entwined with ivy. There, under the canopy of the heavens, Marcus pulled her into his arms once more.

“I dreamt of this moment,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “Of holding you, of hearing your voice, of seeing your smile. The battlefield is no place for dreams, but you were my constant solace.”

Y/N placed a hand on his cheek, her touch tender. “And you were mine,” she replied. “Every day, I prayed for your safe return. Now that you’re here, it feels as if the world has righted itself.”

They shared another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate, a melding of souls that spoke of their unbreakable bond. His hands roamed her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. The intensity of the moment made her gasp softly against his lips, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss further, his tongue exploring hers with a hunger born of months of yearning.

“Marcus,” she whispered when they finally broke apart, her cheeks flushed and her breath shallow. “Take me somewhere we won’t be disturbed.”

He needed no further invitation. Without a word, he swept her into his arms, carrying her through the garden toward their chambers. Her laughter, soft and melodic, mingled with the rustle of leaves as he quickened his pace.

Once inside, the door closed behind them with a quiet thud, sealing them in a world of their own. Marcus set her down gently, his eyes roaming her form with a gaze so heated it made her shiver. He began to unfasten his armor, the clang of metal filling the room as piece by piece fell away, revealing the powerful physique beneath. His scars told stories of battles fought, but to Y/N, they only made him more captivating.

She stepped closer, her hands moving to help him, her fingers brushing against his skin. “You’re more beautiful than I remember,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

He caught her hands and brought them to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “And you, my love, have haunted my every thought.”

Their movements became slower, more deliberate, as they undressed each other. Each touch, each kiss, was a rediscovery, a celebration of their love. When they finally came together, it was with an intensity that left no room for doubt or hesitation. His hands explored her curves reverently, his lips worshipping every inch of her skin. She responded in kind, her touch igniting flames wherever it lingered, her whispered declarations of love weaving into the heady atmosphere of their union.

They moved together in perfect harmony, a dance as old as time, their passion building to a crescendo that left them both trembling. Marcus held her tightly as they reached the peak of their love, his whispered praises and endearments filling her ears.

When the storm finally subsided, they lay tangled in each other’s arms, their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts beating as one. Marcus brushed a strand of hair from her face and gazed down at her with an intensity that made her heart ache.

“You are my everything, Y/N,” he murmured. “My reason for fighting, my reason for living. I am nothing without you.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she cupped his cheek. “And you are mine, Marcus. You’ve always been mine.”

As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, they remained entwined, their love a sanctuary against the trials of the world. For this moment, they were free, and nothing else mattered but the bond they shared.

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readychilledwine · 4 months ago

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Peace in the Violence

Eris Week - Day 5 - War and Adventure

Summary - When the battle for Autumn doesn't end by your one year anniversary, Eris has no choice but to share one more night with you during the heat of war

Warnings - war, mentions of death, smut, using sex as a coping mechanism

A/N - I will be completely honest, I was most excited for this prompt for @erisweekofficial, and I almost was not going to partake this day until this happened. She is only a little thing, but I do love her and her potential.

So many people bash on the sex scenes on ACOWAR, but I don't think they see the bigger picture with them. Those scenes are meant to remind you of what the characters are fighting for. The sex is meant to be symbolic of so much more than sex. SJM, in my opinion, can not properly execute a smut scene during war. Hopefully, I conveyed what I feel those scenes are supposed to represent with this.

🍂Eris Week Masterlist🍂Eris Masterlist🍂Master Masterlist🍂

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

A rough roll of his hips had you gasping as Eris began to lose his gentleness. He was desperate to feel anything besides the looming fear of the battle that was coming. Eris was a skilled warrior, a natural fighter, and had been preparing his whole life for this, but the efforts to dethrone his father were making him question everything.

The war in Autumn had left far too many wounded and more dead. What was supposed to be a simple siege of the Forest House was now more. It was Beron with a legion protecting him. Eris with 6 High Lords in a tent waiting to call their armies. It was Beron refusing the blood duel while Eris put all of his magic into containing battle to just the area they were in to protect the fae of this court. His fae. His court.

You gasped below him before a strangled cry of pleasure tried to leave your throat. It was as if Eris couldn't hear you below him, like he was using all of his tricks to drive more noises from swollen lips. “Eris,” it was a broken call of his name, trying to pull him back to you. To remind him you were the one below him.

His wife. His mate. His love. The one he had set this very fire for.

His eyes met yours and he slowed before forcing you both to roll over, silent admission he could not be in control tonight. He wanted to laugh. One year. One year of marriage spent in bliss, and it was bliss he hoped to seek in this moment of peace you two shared.

Hands. Hands touching your thighs, your hips, your back. Hands roaming every inch of you. Desperate. Aching. Yearning. This wasn't the trip he had planned for your anniversary, but war waits for no male.

When you began to move slowly, he couldn't stop the whimper that fell through his throat.

He was seeking sex.

You had been seeking to make love.

Every bounce was at the pace he was hungry for, his hands settling on your hips to help guide you. You leaned down to kiss him, hands on his chest as he began to meet your movements, pace slowed to savor this instead of rushing.

There were no promises of this happening again, no guarantee that after battle tomorrow your husband would be in bed.

But you had tonight.

You had now.

“I love you,” the words left his mouth in a hushed tone. He needed to say them, to whisper them until his voice and words were etched in your bones.

Eris knew as he was making love to you, as he cherished you on his night, that tomorrow he may die. He knew he was the target in these battles. Not his brothers who so bravely came to his side. Not the soldiers he had been recruiting in secret. Him.

And tomorrow, before you woke up, Rhysand will have taken you to Velaris, hiding you from Beron if Eris will to fail. His mother was already there. His hounds. His wife belonged there too, safe, beautiful untouched.

He memorized every inch of you as you leaned back, pace increasing to give him what he was desperate for. He memorized every freckle, curve, the exact shade of your lips and eyes.

He memorized the noise you made as his thumb brushed your clit, the way your body seemed to shake before you could continue.

He memorized your face as you fell apart for him, forcing his own body to hold back to listen to every note in the song you began to sing.

And when he finally tumbled over the edge, you memorized his soft cry.

This wasn't how Eris planned to spent your anniversary, handing Rhysand your things as you slept clueless to what was happen. This wasn't what he wanted as he kissed you for what could have been the last time. It wasn't all he needed to say as he whispered he loved you again.

His world shifted as Rhysand winnowed your sleeping form to Velaris and he began to pull on the dark illyrian leathers he had borrowed, Azriel waiting in tow, watching Eris prepare to assassinate his father in his sleep.

Risky, unhanded, and cheap.

But war waits for no man.

Not even in his sleep.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

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baby-yongbok · 5 months ago

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Yes, Mistress

Demon!Seo Changbin x Demon Lord!Afab!Reader

✮ Genre - Explicit (non-idol) - Sub!Changbin x Dom!Reader [MDNI] ✮ WC: 3k

✮ Summary: Needy and lovestruck Changbin will do anything to be the center of attention for his mistress. ✮ CW: This is a monster fucker fic [I know, I didn't see it coming either], Unprotected sex, Anal sex, creampie, light degradation, Changbin is big like really. (I think that's all)

✮ A/N: Okay, so, I tried to finish a different Changbin fic I had to end Binnie Birthday Week but it just wasn't doing it for me so I wrote this in 6 hours. Don't ask me how I came up with it or anything I don't know the answer to any of your questions 😭So here's my first monster fucker fic (Does this fall into that category? I think it does) Enjoy! + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡

✧ Masterlist ✧

“You’re staring.” You whisper to the entity beside you. He’s been eyeing you for at least an hour. You’ve gotten good at ignoring him but the persistent heat of his pitch black gaze can get a bit heavy. “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”

Your bright eyes catch his dark ones and he shrinks a bit. He knows better than to say something like that. He knows not to play around but Changbin can be a bit of a tease. You suppose it’s all in the fun of being a hell dweller, they’re entitled to some entertainment but not when it comes to you. Not when it comes to, Mistress.

“Why would you make me nervous?” You sit up straighter in your chair, pushing your hair to the side to give him a good look at the sigil etched dark into your skin. You’ve acquired ownership of Changbin and a few other demons through the lordship of your father. They fear him of course, but you? You’re different. They’ve learned that you’re more than a bright eyed princess, you’re ruthless, and that’s what excites them. “I make you nervous, never the other way around.”

“Yes, mistress.” Changbin mutters, eyeing you like a lovesick puppy. “I’m sorry for staring it’s just that I -”

“Want attention?” You stand from your seat abruptly and the fiend watches closely. There’s no hint of anxiety or fear from him but you can smell it. You’ve grown familiar with the scent, it keeps you up at night. It drives you insane and paints a smile on your face, something like the one you have now while Changbin digs his blackened claws into the dense wood of the table in front of him.

“You want me to give you attention? You’re jealous that I’ve been calling on Minho more?” He nods, gulping heavily as his midnight pupils beg for you. “What can you give me? What are you offering me, hound?”

“Whatever you need, my mistress.” He stands before you and you glare, you can hear the remnant thumping of his damned heart as he realizes what he’s done. No one stands before you without a summons. “I’m sorry.”

He kneels promptly, Bowing his head towards your bare feet. You take this opportunity to look him over, his pitch black hair shines in the light of your common room and his ashened fingers are digging into the hardwood below him and great anticipation.

There’s a reason that you’ve been overlooking Changbin’s willingness to serve, you like him too much. He’s an annoying love sick imp who you have an undeniable attraction to. He’s the only one of your legion that is casually allowed in your common room. He’s the only one that you allow to dine with you on nights like tonight and he’s the only one who can make you feel like you’re one of them.

You want him, so much so that he pulls your demonic nature to the forefront and you can’t have that, though it is nice to indulge every now and then.

“You’re so needy that you’ve forgotten your place, hm?” You step towards him and he keeps his gaze cast to your feet. “Need I remind you who’s in charge?”

You raise a foot to his chest, pushing him back forcefully. He extends his arms behind him to break the fall and you furrow your brows down at him. “Oh, you’ve truly forgotten.” You push him again and he falls backwards.

“Mistress, I’m -” You shush him, watching as his dark pants grow an impressive tent. “You’re so in love with me, aren’t you?”

He grunts, the tent stiffening at your inquiry. “You were told that I am to be obeyed. You were told to serve me at all costs no matter the consequence. My father told you that I am your owner and you’ve made the honor to serve me your reason to breathe, haven’t you?”

“Yes, mistress. I do love you.” The sound of fabric splitting at the seams echoes through the room, you watch as his thick cock fights to free itself of its confinement. “You’re everything.”

“I know I am.” You press the ball of your foot down between his pecs, the muscles bulge and strain under your touch. Changbin watches as you let your dusk colored toes run over his stomach. He’s soft and strong under your touch and it takes so much control for both of you to stay in line. “You want to serve me?

“Yes, please.” His dark eyes nearly glow in the dim light, his smoky claws have marked your floors with proof of his wavering restraint and his raven hair is nearly smoking with a revenant flame.

Your foot stops at the hilt of his cock just as his useless pants give way to his arousal. He grunts at the bite of cool air that meets his throbbing length, his eyes snap shut in a desperate attempt at taming himself. “I’m sorry, Mistress.” He blinks up at you, sincerity glazing the pitch black.

“Don’t be sorry, my sweet.” You circle the hilt of his cock with your big toe, knocking the head of it as you make your rounds. The sounds that leak from him make you want to make some of your own. “How about you use this pretty dick to serve me, hm? How about we try a little something?”

You press your foot to his length, he moans at the contact. It’s high pitched and begging for more, begging for you. “Yes, whatever you’d like. Anything, mistress, I’m yours.”

He throbs under the slight pressure of your foot and your pussy drips at the feeling. You’ve been growing wet since he started staring so you’re certain that you’re a puddle by now.

“I’m wet.” You state simply but it’s anything but simple to Changbin. “Let’s see if you can still eat pussy correctly, then we’ll try a little something, yeah?” He nods, mumbling confirmations that you don’t care to listen to as you rid yourself of your underwear.

Strings of sticky arousal pull from your cunt to the soaked gusset of the fabric. The sight of it makes Changbin’s cock dribble with arousal. If he weren’t so thick you lick it up for him. You’d swallow his cock so perfectly that he just might get his soul back, but that’s a quest for another day.

“Eyes on me, fiend.” You position yourself over him, lifting your skirt so that you can watch his gaze flick between your pretty brown eyes and your sopping cunt. “Eat.” You lower yourself onto him and he’s tasting you before you can take a breath.

His long tongue slips and glides through your folds with expert precision. He laps at every soaked corner and flicks your swollen clit just how you’ve taught him. Growls rip through the both of you followed by panting moans spilling over your parted lips.

“Fuck, Changbin.” You lift your skirt higher to watch him. His nose rests on your public mound, tickling the hair that you’ve carefully shaped as he shakes his head back and forth with your clit snug between his blushed lips. You throw your head back, animalistic wails ripping from your chest as he sucks on the sensitive nub. This is why you can’t fuck Changbin, he ruins you.

“‘M gonna fucking cum. Gonna cum gonna cum, swallow my fucking cum.” He hums against you, continuing his blissful attack on your cunt until you’re writhing on top of him. His nails dig into the supple flesh of your thighs, leaving marks for the others to see when you summon them for a night. He might not be the only one allowed to fuck you but he know’s that he’s the best. He wants to be the best.

“Release.” You order in a breathy moan and he licks up your cunt one more time before pulling

back. You’re panting over him, eyes shut with the faintest hint of a grin. “Sit up.” He moves swiftly, grabbing you by your thighs and sitting straight up with you positioned in his lap. Your wet cunt is sitting right over his throbbing length and he has to hold his breath to control himself.

“I want you to fuck me.” You lace your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a heated kiss. It’s a clash of hungry tongues fighting for dominance and sharp teeth biting at the plump flesh of the others lips. It’s a battle that you’ll always win. “Fuck my ass.”

“Mistress.” Changbin groans against your lips but you silence him with another kiss. You suck his skilled tongue into your mouth. Twirling the muscle with your own before falling back into a makeout. “I’ll fuck your ass.” He mumbles as you break the kiss.

“Do you think you’ll fit?” You rock yourself over him and he melts. His claws sink into you, and his frame swells under your magnetic touch. You take his hand and bring it back to grip your ass, he grabs at the flesh leaving a harsh spank on your cheek before he brings his finger between them to rim your tiny hole.

“Fuck.” Changbin’s cock twitches against you as he presses into the tight ring of muscle. “It’ll be so tight, gonna stretch you out.” You sigh a moan and he follows.

“Let’s see if you’re right.” You move, hovering over his daunting length. He runs the tip of his dick through your folds to collect your sweet slick before he positions his swollen tip. You lower yourself down onto him, hissing at the brutal stretch. “Ah- my god, Changbin.”

“‘S too fucking tight, not gon - Holy hell, you won’t. You can’t” Only the head of his throbbing length has breaches your hole. Your legs are shaky and unstable the more you try to take. He’s barely a quarter in and you swear that you can feel him in your stomach. “Come here.”

Changbin’s hands find your waist and he lifts you up just enough for the very tip of him to stay in place. “I’ll fuck up into you, is that okay?” You agree, supporting your weight with steady hands on his shoulders. The gesture is useless since Changbin is strong enough to hold your weight times any given number but you keep your hands planted anyway.

You inhale deeply and he takes it as his cue to push up into you. You scream into the air on your exhale, It ends in a moan as more of him sinks into you. Your cunt clenches at the fullness and your sticky arousal trails back to give him just enough lubrication to aid him.

“You’re so fucking big, Bin.” He groans, bucking his hips up slightly to feel more of you. “I wanna feel you in my fucking guts. You’re gonna fill me up, gonna fuck me better than anyone else aren’t you?” You struck a chord, it’s obvious with the way that he growls beneath you.

“Fuck yes, I fuck you better than anyone.” He moves you down, controlling you by your waist as he bucks up into you. You feel the delicious burn of the stretch as more of his cock sinks in. “My mistress, I’m hers. I fuck her tight tiny hole like no one else.”

His head is thrown back, his dark eyes are shut and his mouth is parted in a silent moan. You’re almost an exact mirror of him except you’re anything but quiet. You’re moaning, panting, growling, screaming. Every sound known to man and beyond is vibrating through you at the delicious stretch of his cock.

“Mine.” He mumbles, pushing into you further. He’s fucked out, soul snatched and hypnotized by the thought of you and all that you encompass. This is what you live for. This is what it feels like to have these pretty fiends wrapped around your finger. This is euphoria.

“Shit, Changbin. Changbin you’re fucking deep so fucking- holy fuck.” You’re damn near limp in his arms once he bottoms out. He holds you against his strong chest, his arms wrap around your middle and he bucks up into you little by little.

You have no idea what spot he’s hitting. You have no idea how there could possibly be room for him this deep inside you. None of this makes sense but the pleasure coating your nerve endings doesn’t care for it to. “Fuck me, fuck me, now.”

He lifts you up on demand, helping you bounce on his cock at a pace that would be boring if you weren’t stretched to your limit. Tears stream down your pretty red cheeks, your tongue lulls out of your mouth as you pant cross eyed and fuck out in his arms. “So pretty.” He whispers, moving you on his cock like his favorite fuck toy.

“My clit, please. Touch my pussy.” Changbin maneuvers himself, one arm wraps around you to keep you bouncing on his cock while his free hand rubs at your swollen bud. You cry out above him, tears streaming and screams echoing as he holds you still to fuck up into your pretty tight hole.

Skilled fingers flick and circle your clit as you fall apart in tandem. You claw unique shapes and freeform sigils into his back as he summons the pleasure in your body to take over each and every burning inch of flesh he wishes desperately to devour.

“Cum, cum, cum.” You chant with sprinkles of his name here and there. He presses firmer circles into your clit at the warning. You look up at him with tear stained cheeks and blown pupils and he stares back at you with a shimmering darkness behind drooping lids. “Please let me make you cum, Mistress.”

He’s out of breath when he pleads to you and you’re barely breathing as still and cry out in his hold. He fucks into you slowly as you come undone. The hand that was once on your clit is carving lines into the hardwood as he tries to control his own orgasm. He helps you ride through yours, guiding you to grind on his cock until you’re finally breathing again.

Your eyes flutter open to the most beautiful image of a fucked out hellwalker that you could imagine. He’s practically drooling as he watches you. His shirt is ripped from the swelling of his frame, his hair is a tousled mess from the mindless raking of your fingers and his kiss bitten lips are quietly whispering lost prayers for him to keep his composure.

“You’re so good to me.” You run your hands through his hair and he sighs at the contact, blinking up at you. “I’ll reward you with my cunt, use me to cum.” His eyes get darker, if that's even possible, he sits up straighter against you and you moan at the way your holes clench.

“Use me and fill me with your cum, I can take it, don’t worry.” You coo at him and he keens. His arms circle you again, squeezing you tight against him as he fucks into you slowly.

“Thank you.” He whispers, fucking into you faster and faster by the second as he chants fucked out ‘thank yous’ into the air. “You’re so fucking tiny. So small in my arms I could fuck you for days, for years. Can I please? Can I please have my mistress forever? I’ve already given myself to you, I’m yours, all yours.”

He’s in his head, he’s so caught up in his mumbling that he barely processes your screaming. He’s too lost in his deep need for you to realize that he’s simply manhandling you in his hold. He’s moving you over him like a toy that he’s determined to break. “I’m yours all yours.”

A grunt that can only be recognized as inhuman erupts from him as he falls apart. Ropes of heavy, thick cum paint your walls and you find yourself coming undone again at the feeling of it. You moan into the air like a woman possessed as you squirt all over his stomach, your arousal pools and drips down with the cum that escapes your tiny hole where Changbin still has you plugged and full.

You pant against each other, skin glistening with sweat as the air around you evaporates. He’s still holding you, nails digging into your sides and marking you yet again. His back is no better, there are traces of you on almost every inch of him and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

You gather all of your strength to pull yourself away from Changbin. He helps you, guiding you up and off of his cock. You moan as you slowly start to feel empty with each inch of him that escapes. Once you’re free of his cock his cum spills from your gaping hole. He gawks at the sight, cock twitching at the way your hole clenches around nothing.

You waver a bit as you try to stand but he keeps you steady, holding you by your hips as you stand over him. He blinks up at you, his hazy gaze meeting yours. “Did I serve you well, mistress?”

You offer him a lazy smile. “Hm, I think you could’ve done better.” He freezes, eyes growing wide and that delicious smell of anxiety is rolling off of him in an instant.

“I’m sorry.” You pet his head, combing the messy hair with your fingers. “Don’t be sorry just make it up to me.”

“Of course, anything.” You take an unstable step towards him, relying on his strength to keep you steady. “Clean me up.”

His eyes flick down to your messy cunt, the mix of your and his arousal is slick against your skin and he holds back a moan at the sight. He knows that you’re fucking with him, you’re using him and it’s just what he wanted. This is the attention he was hoping for.

“Yes, mistress.”

Please Like, Reblog or Comment to let me know how you liked it! It makes my day! 💕

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fanaticsnail · 5 months ago

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Mistress snail I had a dream and I fear I can’t let it go

In theory, a devil fruit could do anything, right? The dream was that maybe Katakuri (or King) accidentally got affected by a devil fruit that could shrink things- and I think you know where I’m going with this

Like obviously at first he’s annoyed and confused- he’s gone from over 15+ ft to let’s say 8/9 but then it dawn on him that he can finally feel his darling in the most intimate way without stressing about killing them. I imagine he’d RUN home and just would not be able to leave them alone until the effects wore off

OKAY BUT THIS IS AN AWESOME CONCEPT!! I have been thinking about someone with either the ability to shrink others or grow themselves. Could you imagine if you had a devil fruit that could enlarge yourself to a gargantuan size, and Big Mom clocks it immediately.

Size

Masterlist Here

Word count: mini-fic

"Finally! A worthy partner for my children! Time to set a trap, bring them home, and have them produce all of the heirs for each of them. An army. Finally, an army." And you are forced to run while you're being tracked by Big Mom and her legion of hunters.

But what if Katakuri is sent after you to bring you in, and you're running from him as fast as you can? He can see the future, he knows where you're going and what you're doing. He knows you can take him in a fight, and he'll likely be rendered defeated in any circumstances...

...So he runs to you to help you get away.

He wants you to have a free life. He doesn't want this life for you, the life of rearing offspring of monsters with him or others as your mate and spouse. He would rather help you escape than bring you home to meet his mother.

And when he does catch up, all you're met with is calming sweetness. Laying down arms, kneeling beneath you, lowering his head and exposing his neck to you, for you to do as you will. You're taken aback and test his submission by placing a blade to the back of his neck. He's not worried, he's seen the future, he knows it's just a test of his humility.

"Let me help you run from beyond where my sister's sight can reach," he'd say with all honesty and submission, "You deserve a life worth living away from Cake Island. Let me help you."

And you accept, and he does.

But what if he gets injured protecting you? Are you going to stay and care for the man who you owe your freedom to, or are you going to take this opportunity to run?

Of course not. You'll stay and help your saviour in leather armor. You'll patch him up, soothe his skin, cleanse him of all ailments. And when your eyes meet with his ruby orbs, your breath hitches as his shroud is partially exposing his teeth.

A monster, large teeth in a mouth split up his cheeks. A monster with the heart of an angel, the skills of a knight, and those beastly eyes that will haunt your dreams with the expression of gratitude and, almost, love? Love in those ruby orbs, reflecting your own expression of love within.

You finally make it to the mirrors' edge. Brulee can't see you here, and Big Mom is livid about it. Katakuri will take any punishment from his mother, so long as you're happy and free to live a life that belongs to you. As he presents his arm out to you, gesturing for you to flee on a ship to the east, you shake your head at him.

Lowering your gaze and bowing your head, you placed your hand over your heart and grew yourself to a humble twenty feet tall, far taller than Katakuri. Looking up at you, his lips part in surprise and cheeks dusted with the glow of a pink flush. Stepping sheepishly closer, you take his extended hand and lace your fingers with his own.

"Thank you, Lord Charlotte," would exit your lips, looming over him with your great height, "I will not forget your kindness."

"Nor I will forget you. -I-I mean, the kindness of your own," he would stumble, truly at a loss for words by feeling dwarfed by you.

Leaning down, you'd press a sweet kiss to the top of his head. A kiss that is sweeter than any dessert he'd ever consumed. A kiss that would haunt him on his journey back to Cake Island alone. A kiss that he so wished to reciprocate before you fled from his grasp and hid yourself beyond Brulee's reach.

But you were gone. You were finally free to live a life that was truly yours. A life free from his mother, and belonging to you completely. He was thankful for that, and should you truly desire to see him again, he would welcome it fully.

The only place he would ever see you is when you visit him in his dreams, replaying that final moment in his mind's eye each night he slumbered.

Just my thoughts on the matter.

#one piece #x reader #ask snail #snail answers #katakuri #charlotte katakuri #katakuri x reader #one piece x reader

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bridgetotheskyyy · 2 months ago

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Yuta; Public Sex

a/n: yuta and reader fuck in paris that's it lmaooo. 18+ only. Est relationship, reader's a horn dog lmaoo. wc 1.1k

Kinktober Masterlist

“Surprise!”

You whipped your head around, the voice familiar — too familiar — to be ignored.

“Yuta?”

Yuta’s smile lit up the Parisian night as you gawked at his mere presence. “Well, surprised?”

You flung into his arms with a squeal, becoming a spectacle for the people who breezed past the two of you on the sidewalk. “How did you manage to get here?”

Yuta explained, but you barely heard. It was just supposed to be a brief interlude in his time in Africa. It took Miguel some convincing. Yuta thought it’d be nice, romantic. Blah blah. You were too happy to care.

“Maybe we should find a hotel,” Yuta said, grazing an adoring finger over your cheek. “So we can catch up?”

You smiled, deviancy overcoming reason as you pulled Yuta by his sleeve into an unbusied alleyway, unbothered by the legions of people leaving the party you’d just attended.

“Hm?” Yuta blinked. “He — Hey! What are you doing?”

You licked your lips, the months gone without seeing Yuta beginning to dawn on you as your eyes swept over his frame. “Why wait?”

Your meaning registered and Yuta’s face ran red. He glanced back at the sidewalk, the car seated on the narrow street. “But — but —“

“Don’t be such a worry-wart.” You knew the location was odd, but it was thrilling, the danger adrenalizing you

“It’s not that I’m not intrigued,” Yuta said, and you had to suppress a holler of delight. Yuta was just as kinky as you were, if not more. You wouldn’t be surprised to reach down and find a growing bulge tenting his pants at the thought.

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t thought about taking me in public,” You said. “C’mon.” Yuta sucked in a breath as you pressed against him, dangling your lips dangerously close to his. “Yu-Yu. For me?”

Yuta’s eyes darkened at the pet name. Bingo.

Nice. Romantic. And apparently it was, because the next thing you knew Yuta had you pressed against the wall, hard body keeping you suppressed there while he humped his impressive tent into the valley of your thighs.

“Missed you,” he rasped. “Missed you so much …”

You left wet, lingering kisses on the gorgeous column of his neck. “I know …” Yuta let out a moan when you ran your flat tongue across his Adam's apple, withdrawing only to attack his throat with teeth. “I missed you, too.”

“Say it again,” he begged, a hand cupping your ass, groping the soft flesh there. His previous compunctions about being seen — or heard — seemingly abandoned as his hips bruisingly buck into yours. “Say it again, please.”

You sunk your hand into his sweatpants, fishing for the perfect cock that was rightfully yours. “Yu-Yu …”

Yuta rewarded you with a moan, another harsh buck into your hand.

Your fingertips grazed his ballsack, the gesture positively come-hither, and you felt Yuta shiver around you. How easy it was to make him come apart. How you loved him.

“You’re so cute, Yu-Yu.” You brushed a finger against his cockhead. “Want me to jerk you off, make you come right here?” You asked before nibbling into his neck, stroking the cock viced in your palm.

“No …” Yuta moaned out, lurched over you, hands pressed into the brick of the wall as he rutted into you. He was a good foot taller than you; his presence overwhelming. “Wanna come inside you — please — nrgh —“

Despite the begging, Yuta reached under your skirt and pushed your panties aside, bathing his fingers in the wet of your folds.

“Na — haa! Yuta!”

“So wet already,” Yuta rocked into your trembling hand. “And yet I’ve hardly done anything …”

You released his cock, doing what you could to suppress your writhing. You pulled his trousers and boxers around his thighs. You squeezed his forearm between your thighs to try and stop him. It wouldn’t do for his long, talented hands to play with your pussy. He wasn’t alone. You didn’t want to come until he was inside you, until he was the one to do it.

Yuta kissed you. You sighed, running your tongue over his. All the while too distracted to detect Yuta gripping his cock — until you felt his cockhead circle your tight hole.

“Mmf!”

Yuta buried himself inside you. Your head thudded against the wall as you took his huge cock. Yuta groped at your breast through your flimsy cami, fondling the tit while he thrust into you. All before growing tired of the distance between his hand and your skin and tugging your top down. Thankfully braless, his hand married with your tit again, trapping a nipple between two fingers.

You squealed when he bottomed out. “Oh, fuck.” This was undoubtedly your favorite part about bringing Yuta to his limits. His aggressive thrusts never failed to take you by surprise. For such a demure gentleman, he had no problem bullying your pussy like this — his cockhead knocking into your cervix as though intent to drill itself through. Or maybe it was the desperation grown out of distance that made him so particularly feral this time.

“So good …” Pants nearly pooled around Yuta’s ankles, his hips snapped into you, again and again. You saw him gaze down a second before his hand drifted south to tease your clit. “So good …”

You were delirious, back smacking into the wall with each powerful thrust.

“Fu — fuck!” You grabbed hold of Yuta’s shoulders at the sound of approaching footsteps. “Yuta — I — someone’s coming —“

“I don’t care,” Yuta replied, husky admission a brief interlude from the kisses he left on your skin. It was worthless to attempt to warn him anyway; if he was willing to fuck you this ferociously knowing he could be seen then the prospect of being seen would only spur him on farther. Yuta hiked your leg leg up over his shoulder to pound you more efficiently. “Let them see. You’re so beautiful …” Yuta’s words blew heated and hurried in your ear. “You’re mine …”

You let out a moan, too loud for comfort. Yuta’s tight circles over your clit, combined with the unrelenting bullying of his cock inside you, kept the meat of your attention. Even as a group of people passed by in your periphery, you only closed your eyes, hands running over your boyfriend’s back as he brought you closer to the edge.

Yuta’s drawn-out groan, how he buried his face in your neck, was how you knew he had come to his end. Knowing Yuta was painting your walls white with his spent, still fucking you through his own orgasm, using you, was enough to send you coming along with him. His mouth came over yours before a harpy-esque scream could escape. You clenched down around him, the pleasure centered in your clit painful.

Yuta slumped against you. You were sure your embrace around him was the only thing keeping him vertical.

“I guess this is the story,” You began breathlessly, petting his raven-black hair, “of how my boyfriend was okay with us getting banned from visiting Paris ever again.”

“Hm …” Yuta kept you hanging for a proper reply for some time. Then: “Maybe.”

You snorted as he withdrew to give you space to rearrange your clothing. “If they catch us.”

#kinktober 2024 #kinktober #yuta smut #yuuta smut #yuta x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader

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liwysz · 17 days ago

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8 days to fall in love with your rival

Charles Leclerc x Max Verstappen

Chapters: 5/10 | Words: 13,373 | Started posting: 2024/12/09

The rivalry between Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen was the fiercest in the world of sim racing. Each commanded their own virtual empire, with legions of fans ready to defend them at any cost. Streams were veritable battlefields, full of provocations and questionable moves during multiplayer events, fueling the drama between the two even more. The intensity of this rivalry was what kept the sim racing community alive. Between Twitter barbs, live taunts, and edited clips full of sharp commentary, everyone knew that Charles and Max couldn’t even “breathe the same air” in the virtual world. For viewers, watching their interactions whenever they had the chance to play against each other was like watching fire and gasoline meet over and over again — explosive, chaotic, and impossible to ignore. All of this changed after a certain announcement appeared. or: my Lestappen Christmas fic project

F1 Masterlist | Lestappen Masterlist | Meet me :)

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couldyouimagine-that · 6 months ago

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Saving Grace

Genre; action, hurt/comfort

Word count; 2.1k

Warnings; canon typical violence, arguing

Pairing; Lucifer (Supernatural) x Reader, Gabriel (Supernatural) x Reader

The reader and Team Free Will plus Gabriel and Lucifer are outnumbered by a legion of angels. Lucifer and Gabriel decide at the same time they need to protect the reader.

Another Lucifer and Gabriel story because I love writing the two of them. This was a really fun one!

Masterlist

The angels were everywhere. You were trapped in a warehouse full of them, each armed to the teeth with steel and fury. Castiel’s powers were completely gone, yet he fought on beside Sam and Dean. Your own angelic blade flashed in your hand, your movements practiced and almost automatic. But you were getting tired. This fight had been going on far too long – there shouldn’t even have been a fight to begin with. With Lucifer and Gabriel in the ring, the legions you faced should have been smoke in the air by now. You couldn’t understand how the angels trying to kill you had access to their powers, but the two archangels on your own side didn’t. From their halting looks of confusion when a snap of each of their fingers did nothing, neither did they.

That left all of you fighting hand to hand, and even with six of you, there were still too many to take on. You flung yourself around towards a torn cry of Dean’s name, seeing Castiel trying to wade through the fight towards your fallen friend. You and Sam quickly followed suit, but the angels closed rank. You couldn’t even see Dean; you had no way of knowing how badly hurt he was. Your only indication was that he didn’t get back up. Distracted in trying to lay eyes on him for just a moment, you felt a searing pain across your shoulder blade and back. The wound didn’t feel too deep, but a slash from angelic steel was excruciating. You stumbled, taking a glancing blow from your left that had your feet out from under you, and there was just enough time to see you would fall directly onto the tip of another angel blade –

The air around you fell silent and still.

Your breathing was ragged, the blood on your back soaking through your shirt. You had lost your weapon somewhere in the melee, your trembling hand instead clutching cloth. Someone gripped your other wrist, deadly silent. You forced your eyes open to see what your forehead was leaning against, almost reeling back when your mind supplied a person, a man, Lucifer. His arm encircled your waist to keep you steady and a second hand alighted on your uninjured shoulder. Lucifer was watching the space directly behind you with an unreadable expression. You turned your head as much as your rattled state would allow to find Gabriel holding your arm, staring back at his brother in exactly the same way. Gabriel broke first to look at you.

“You alright?” He asked cautiously, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes caught on your back. You swallowed harshly and tried to nod. Your grip on Lucifer’s jacket tightened and you were surprised that he let you lean against him more heavily as you tried to regain your bearings.

“What happened?” Your voice was hoarse even to your own ears.

“Fight got too much.” Lucifer sounded oddly subdued, enough so that you made the effort to straighten and see his face. His gaze was unfocused, though it snapped to you as he offered a short smile. “We decided to get out of there.”

You stepped back, finally, and cast around for your friends. You recognised the rusted hallways as one of the entrances to the main floor where you had been just moments prior, but Sam, Cas, and Dean were nowhere to be found. You thought back to what had happened just before you had been teleported out, a dark pit opening in your stomach. Movements frantic now, you located your blade and snatched it up from the grimy concrete floor.

“And what, you just left them there?”

You turned quickly between Gabriel and Lucifer, imploring either of them to prove you wrong. Of course, for once, they stayed quiet.

“Oh no, no, no-”

Injured shoulder be damned, you grit your teeth and set off at a sprint, shoving between your saviours. You knew they had just watched you go without even needing to see it. You careened round a corner and took out an unsuspecting angel standing guard, then on through a set of double doors and another corner. And this time, you skidded two a halt. Ten more angels, blades ready and moving as a singe military unit stood between you and saving your friends. You thought humourlessly that if you believed God truly cared, this would have been the moment you decided to pray. Instead, you let out a roar and charged at the one leading the way, walking slightly apart from the others. Those behind her were arranged in lines of three, shoulder to shoulder and completely blocking off the corridor.

You dispatched two quickly, but that gave the others time to circle around you. You turned to face each, trying to put on a show so they would know you weren’t afraid, that you could take them. You were, and you couldn’t. And they knew it. When three came at you simultaneously, you launched yourself towards the closest one, eyes shut as you prepared for the onslaught of agony which would inevitably lead to your death.

It never came.

You slammed your hands down over your ears at the overwhelming, high-pitched ringing which split straight through your skull. Your eyes narrowed to slits at the onslaught of piercing white light, but you were even more shocked once you could see again. The expanse of a perfect white wing curled around you, protecting you from your attackers. You traced its arch back to Lucifer, who had already killed the three angels nearest to you. You turned at a cry of pain from behind you, seeing Gabriel had just about taken care of the rest. Gabriel faced you with all the self-importance of a king.

“I just dragged your ass out of there and saved your life, and this is how you repay me, with a suicide mission?!”

“We, brother,” Lucifer corrected in a low, warning tone. His wing now seemed more like it was keeping you in place, rather than protecting you from harm. Your first instinct was to lash out at them both, but you tamped down on it. You needed to be practical and Gabriel was right – you would never get to your friends in time.

“How is it that they can use their powers, but you two can’t?” The archangels stopped their fighting before it could really get under way, each giving you an assessing look. “Cas is still cut off from heaven, right? So he can’t do anything anyway. That means they’ve done something specifically to block of the power of archangels.”

You stepped back from Lucifer, gaze down, mind whirring. There shouldn’t have been anything powerful enough to tamp down on their abilities to start with, and you had never heard of anything that could filter out an archangel’s power but let through that of an ordinary angel. You thought through every sigil you had ever encountered, but not one of them fit. You couldn’t imagine it was a magical object, and even if this could be achieved with witchcraft, the angels wouldn’t deign to use it. That left –

“Got it! There’s warding somewhere, that’s blocking out most of your powers. It’ll be in Enochian, and there’s already so many angels here that I bet you weren’t able to sense it when we came in.” Again, they said nothing. “Come on, please – we need to find it before it’s too late!” They weren’t going to help. You were getting desperate, but pleading for their help had no effect. A scream pierced through into the corridor and you lost what little sense you had left. “You both cared enough to pull me out of there. If you care about me at all, you’ll help me find that warding!”

Gabriel looked from you to Lucifer, and some sort of silent understanding seemed to pass between them. You blinked and they were both gone, and moments later, so were the sounds of fighting from the main floor. Heart in your throat, you sprinted for the entrance. The corridor flew past, yet it seemed that your every step lasted a decade. Rusted old hinges shrieked when you shoved open the doors and burst into the warehouse, to find it almost empty.

Dean was curled over, just barely holding himself off the floor on his elbows. Castiel was on his knees in front of him, blade held forward defensively and his free hand behind him, hovering by Dean’s shoulder. Sam was still on his feet a few paces away.

“What happened?” Dean groaned roughly, trying to look around to see where the angels had gone. You swallowed when you realised that the shadows floating towards the ceiling and gathering in the corners of the room weren’t shadows at all. They were the dust that was left of the angels themselves.

Your steps echoed loudly as you ran towards your friends. You felt certain your relief was palpable, but the others were as wary as you had ever seen them.

“Where’d they go?” Dean tried again, slowly sitting himself up. Castiel looked as if he wanted nothing more in the world than to reach for the injured hunter and fold him into an embrace. The soft flap of wings signalled the return of Lucifer and Gabriel, and Sam took a few defensive steps forward in front of his brother.

“Ah, you’re welcome,” Lucifer intoned expectantly, staring directly at you. Castiel turned to him, saw the direction of his gaze, and leaned towards you immediately, voice urgent.

“Y/N, what did you do?”

“Nothing, Cas. It’s fine-” His hand landed on your shoulder, grip tight, as if trying to convince you of an imminent threat you didn’t believe was there.

“What did you agree to?”

“Nothing!” You took a deep, calming breath. “I realised there was some kind of warding around this place that was allowing all of the angels to access their powers, but not the archangels. You three were surrounded, and Gabriel and Lucifer found the warding, dismantled it, and destroyed the angels who were attacking us. That’s it.”

Dean groaned as he sat further up and Castiel’s concern became split between the two of you. He moved back a little towards Dean, supporting the hunter’s back even when he tried to wave Castiel away. He was too weak to manage.

“You’re not hurt,” Dean ground out, less of a question and more of a confirmation. You nodded, the yes quiet in the back of your throat. “Then what happened to you? Cause you disappeared and I thought one of ‘em had taken you down.”

You found yourself faltering. Lucifer, the devil himself, and Gabriel, two of the only four archangels to have ever existed, had decided simultaneously that your puny little human life was worth saving? You, the only human of untold billions to have lived throughout time that not one, but either of them had ever cared enough to save – you couldn’t even believe the words in your own mind. Dean prompted you again when you failed to answer and you still couldn’t come up with a reply. Aside from being unbelievable, you doubted Lucifer at the very least would want you to tell the Winchesters and Castiel of all beings what he had done, presumably on the spur of the moment. becoming uncomfortable in the silence with everyone’s eyes on you, you looked over to Gabriel for support, preferring your chances with getting help from him than his brother. He seemed to sigh silently.

“They almost did.” Gabriel watched you cautiously as everyone turned to him. “I was close enough to get Y/N out of the way in time.”

“And what about him?” Dean gave a disparaging tilt of his head in Lucifer’s direction.

“What, you thought I was just gonna let my little bro walk out of a fight without following?”

That wasn’t what had happened; Lucifer had been trying to save you too. But you certainly weren’t going to say anything, and it seemed that neither was Gabriel.

Dean still seemed suspicious, but there were other more important things at hand. Sam and Castiel helped him to his feet. Gabriel snapped his fingers and you all instantly appeared back at the bunker. Your head swirled from the chosen method of long-distance transportation and you pitched to the side, reaching out for the nearest available object to stop yourself from falling. When you straightened after a moment of regaining your bearings, it was to see Lucifer smiling smugly down at you. He held his forearm parallel to the ground in such a way that you were leaning on it without drawing anyone else’s attention. You apologised quietly and stepped back in time to see Gabriel staring at his brother yet again. Somehow, you felt sure that having gained the attention of them both couldn’t lead to a good end.

#supernatural reader insert #supernatural #supernatural lucifer #supernatural lucifer x reader #spn lucifer #spn lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #gabriel x reader #lucifer #spn gabriel #supernatural gabriel x reader #spn gabriel x reader

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zorosbeau33 · 9 months ago

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Alpha Laxus Dreyar + Courting Headcanon

❖ Fairy Tail, Laxus x Gender Neutral Reader

❖ Headcanon, Fluff, Comedy

❖ Tw: Mentions of fighting

❖ wc: 1777

❖ @tojiseviltwin @kimnamshiks ❖ Masterlist Natsu~❖

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

I was supposed to do a strictly Courting Headcanon but uh I got distracted...SO I shall put a strictly nsfw courting (and maybe some more bonus sfw) headcanon on my to-do list X.X Sorry

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

We are going to do Laxus post his first fight for this one~ Because we love character growth in this universe~

Laxus is an alpha, a seemingly calm alpha with a selective and secretive short fuse.

He has no time anymore for meaningless violence. Laxus is too busy looking towards the future and doing whatever is within his power from behind the scenes to make the lives of his guildmates better

However if you purposely put yourself in his way, by threatening his assumed fairy tail this man will assert himself as the alpha and without letting that sink in he will strike

One blast of lightning is all it takes to fry most, and just to be a disrespectful shit, he will let his scent out so they are stuck smelling like the alpha who kicked their ass so easily and warning any of their buddies there is a Fairy Guardian ready to kick ass if they try to lay a hand on them

Unlike Natsu or Rogue he is not hiding or ignoring his alpha status, he doesn’t necessarily think it makes him better than anyone anymore. However He knows that secondary gender often leads people to be naturally stronger in terms of strength and scent

He is very mindful of how much force he puts into everything, from opening doors to helping someone up who fell. It would bother and upset him if he accidentally caused injury to someone who did not deserve it

Unlike how Natsu just has a generally lower scent unless he’s angry, Laxus’s scent is strong and he has gone through time to learn how to keep it calmer and not overpowering for those around him. In fact it is a rather grounding and calming scent that makes you feel you can rely on this man

He takes pride in his scent but understands not everyone wants to smell him 24/7 so he hardly ever pushes his scent out(except as a power move on assholes), and never scent marks not even the Thunder legion

Although awkward when it comes to expressing affection, Laxus is a very passionate alpha it comes across in the tiny turns of his lips, the stance he takes to protect others, and the crackling of his lightning (it differs in fights against guildmates vs enemies you can feel his ferocity)

This goes for shows of affection to his guild mates too, he plays with them like a jock big brother would the youngest sibling. He treasures them but also this usually comes through him unintentionally teasing them or pissing them off by how he interacts with them

Alpha Laxus is not looking for power, he is looking for a family. A place to rest and a place he can protect with everything inside him

If he is needed to lead then he will but it will not be from the thought of I am alpha so you will listen, but because he wishes to protect and he will serve the role of protector (not alpha) but protector for those who he has come to accept as family regardless of their secondary genders, primary genders, sexuality, or magical ability

He has learned to protect the strong as well as the weak and he cherishes each one even if he does not know them personally all that well, when family views them as his family thus he will protect them

As for Laxus as an alpha to be with you, well you must be a member of Fairy Tail plain and simple, or someone Fairy Tail sees as family

If you are seen as family but a part of another guild it won’t work for him. He has to be able to protect you and while he does see other guilds as friends he can’t trust them with your safety

Civilian? Oh guess who just got the best gig ever? Working at Fairy Tail! Congratulations~

He is a quiet partner at first, he speaks with his body and actions. You’ll need to learn to notice his glances because they speak volumes about whether he is watching you lovingly, worried for you, or just perplexed by your behavior.

Same for his body positioning, he tends to linger closer to you not like hovering beside you, but same side of the room as you. Sitting just a seat or two away, or positioned so he can be beside you in an instant if anything happened

Laxus is not huge on PDA, he just is a bit awkward because he doesn’t really crave skinship in the way many do

He prefers to gently fix your hair as a way of giving you affection before moving on to the next objective. Or cup your cheek and smile for a moment before he walks away to go get you food or one of his jackets

He will on occasion stand just a half step behind and to the side so he can rest one of his gargantuan hands on your hip and bask in your presence

Laxus will actually commit murder if he sees you crying. The snarls and way he snaps you up into his arms is terrifying enough to his guild members let alone the stranger who had hurt your soul thusly

He feels helpless but will be there to hold you and offer soft words of encouragement and protection. This is one of the times you would hear him give you verbal affirmations without having to ask for them. He will get revenge for you unless you stop him

If its because of unfortunate events, nature is nature after all Laxus will steal you away to somewhere safe preferably your nest so he can just be a strong shoulder to cry on, and later cook for you. Expect the best cuddles, kisses, and home-cooked food, unintentionally becoming more like husband material by the day

It's much later on in your relationship when he starts to act on certain alpha impulses

One of those is kissing you, he found you too cute before and he was in no rush to claim you. If you wanted him like he did you it would happen in time

When he finally acts on it, it is probably after a heated battle or moment where he feels he had nearly failed to be the man (not alpha) he wanted to be for you and is so desperate and filled with all the love he has been storing up inside for you

It’s a claiming and dominant kiss and later he will apologize if that wasn’t the sort of kiss you wanted your first kiss with him to be

Now he seeks you out sometimes tugging you in gently by your hips or cupping the back of your head while he presses slow claiming steamy kisses to your lips (or if he is feeling needy or worried about you to your throat by your scent glands)

If someone in the guild is getting too close or handsy expect his jealousy to leak out slightly in a small scent flare and him coming over to kiss your forehead and cheek and suggest you both go “-get a drink” “show him that thing you were talking about” or if they really pushed it “to our Home”

Another impulse he is acting on? Scenting for the first time in years! He wants to leave his scent lingering on you so that you know he is never too far away

It does ward off others as well, being an alpha but it was more because it's his way of claiming his mate as a man who is terrified to lose you and his family again

The times it is as an alpha is if you have to go into battle and either of you are worried about the other's safety. He hopes his alpha scent could deter any harm that might come to you, he knows it can't always but even if it helps a little it's worth using his secondary gender then. Please scent him back, it helps calm his mind that you will be okay while he has to fight. He also fights six times harder with your scent on him subconsciously fighting to defend his mate with all the deadly precision he has learned over the years as an s class wizard

If he knows you are okay with it he will often wrap you up in some of his clothes

It tickles his heart seeing you drowning in his huge things

He’s unaware of it but the others see that alpha light in his eyes when you wear something of his. All the pride and love of an alpha watching their mate but they really want to tease him for this behavior he's unaware of

Alpha status can sometimes be used by him without thinking if it can make your or the guilds lives easier or safer. It is less OOO I’m a big scary alpha and “Oh? Scared of alpha’s huh? Then get the fuck out of here before I show you what an alpha really is, scum.”

Would not appreciate being referred to by his secondary gender, it brings up bad memories and discredits his actual prowess and growth. Use his name, or his position as a s class Fairy Tail wizard not “Alpha”.

Is re-assured if you like his secondary gender but it's something he wouldn’t realize he finds relieving until it happens and you tell him as such. Although he would still prefer if it was not one of your favorite things about him

Not the greatest at understanding what the other positions need, but he is trying to learn every single day. Has gone to the library to try and find books that aren't archaic so he can be sure to provide the family or you with whatever you require at any time. He still gets surprised by things, like why your little clicks and prrts can grab his attention from across a battlefield. Doesn’t realize that is his mate's way of calling to him and him alone and he is responding to it the right way, he may ask you to be more careful about when you make those noises after he accidentally gets distracted by it while you were cheering him on and Natsu socked him in the jaw

I’ll do a more courting one but I think this is more than I had meant to do for just him as an alpha lol XD Heres a few little more but I’d be willing to do a courting headcanon, or nsfw mate headcanon if people are curious

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saintmurd0ck · 1 year ago

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lakeside dreamin'

masterlist

pairing: jedi general anakin skywalker x f!reader

summary: anakin reminisces about your lives together while he's away fighting in the clone wars

warnings: heavy angst, mentions of canon events in TCW, canon typical mentions of warfare, some smut/spice, mentions of sex, minors DNI 18+ only

a/n: to the one anon who requested this maybe a year ago? i saw clone wars anakin and it was over for my brain 🫠 anyway love you guys and leave a comment or reblog if you liked this! 🥺

song pairing: love on the brain (rihanna)

The war was taking its toll.

Day after day, planet after planet, all Anakin knew now was his place on the battlefield. And his role in leading the victory for the Jedi and the Republic, even though their dogma preached peace, not violence. Every skirmish brought a new kind of horror to his once uncomplicated life, whether it was watching Separatist droids and clone troopers alike, cut down as easily as marsh reeds, or the simple fact that his relationship with the Force was dwindling towards something impure. Something he couldn’t make sense of, and would surely raise more questions than answers if he were to confide in his Masters. It wasn’t that he contemplated reaching towards the Dark side, or thought of the kind of evil only the Sith could endure; it was more like an isolating numbness that spread from within, and before long, Anakin felt the cloud settle over his mind.

He was tired of seeing smoke — the kind that billowed in every direction, stinking of despair and lost hope on his front, despite the war turning to the Republic’s favour. It was the sound of unending blaster fire and the repetitive ignition of his lightsaber that haunted his nightmares, and with only the company of his clone legion, his Padawan Ahsoka and the occasional appearance from Obi-Wan, he felt himself starting to slip.

He was overwhelmed, and encumbered with burden.

Never before had he experienced such guilt, anger and suffering — towards his army, towards the civilians caught in the crossfire, and towards his relationship with you.

The secret life the two of you led, away from the Order, felt like something out of another galaxy, another lifetime. It was as if eons had passed since he’d last seen you, and yet the world was constantly evolving — not towards freedom, but into a more destructive version of its past. Even for a Jedi General (and, one could argue, because he was a Jedi General), Anakin had little comfort, and much less sway in which systems he visited and what he took part in. Seeing you was absolutely out of the question, but it wasn’t like he bothered to even ask, out of fear of inviting a lecture from Obi-Wan, or Maker-forbid, an audience with Master Yoda.

At least things like facilitating training for the Onderon rebels allowed him to feel more of himself, and to an extent, a sort of unity with the Council, but all of that was quickly replaced by the more sinister side of the Separatist Alliance, such as the trainwreck on Zygerria. Liberation didn’t exist there. Not until Anakin showed up.

It was these events that really compelled him to look inwards, to not just seek the Force’s guidance, but to use it in tandem with a coping mechanism that would get him through the war.

And so the vignettes began. Slowly, at first.

It started off as little glimpses of your life together, slices of euphoric nostalgia that weaved their way into Anakin’s being. He didn’t realise just how much he yearned for you; not simply the way your skin felt on his, but the pureness of your energy, the reminder that good truly did exist in this world. As much as these images were a solace to his sanity, they brought about a sense of malaise. Contrition, actually, if he sought the Force for the purpose of clarity. Even though it all existed in his head, allowing himself these indulgences felt like once again, he was breaking Code.

But could it really have been that bad, if it honed his focus? If it drew him back to the bigger picture, of the why? Reminding himself of who it was he fought for didn’t erase the atrocities, but it gave him that flicker of hope, knowing that the sum of his actions equalled a better world for you.

And some selfish, miniscule part of him figured that if he could lead the victory, he’d be pardoned when the Order inevitably found out about the life the two of you shared. It isn’t as if no-one already knew. He was sure Ahsoka was aware. Rex, too. He doubted when it came to Obi-Wan, but then again very little got past his Master.

While the memories of you lay fresh before his eyes, they seemed to sharpen at specific points throughout the day; often in the thick of battle, or when he woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in a cold sweat, nothing but thin shafts of moonlight illuminating his body. It’s like they were stitched perfectly amongst the real action, scattered at perfect intervals that jerked his body into manoeuvre.

The sweetest images had always featured the lake.

Armed with nothing more but his wits, his back pressed against the cold, wet stone in a cave on Vanqor, he reminisced about that first night with you by the lakeside. The sweet smell of wildflowers carried in the breeze, heightened by his affinity for the Force. He recalled the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore, and how the two moons cast their milky glow upon the shimmering surface of the water. And you — radiant, almost ethereal in the soft light, and the way your lips brushed against his neck, filling him with the kind of heat that flooded all at once. Not even the screech of the pursuing gundark could have interrupted this moment in time. He felt his breathing go ragged, because he remembered what happened next. He gritted his teeth, thinking about the way he moved inside you, and how you tangled your fingers in his hair, pressing chaste kisses to his mouth, his chest, whispering his name in sinful bliss. The gundark didn’t stand a chance. Not when Anakin’s motivation for getting out alive laid in sweet promise, embedded in these visions.

His name felt the most natural rolling off your tongue, nevermind that that was truly the last real thing he possessed, unmarred by time and the influence of the Jedi. In that moment, when you’d taken him over the edge with you, crying his name so loud he swore someone had heard, he knew he’d give it over to you if you’d asked.

He thought of the lake again when he was in Felucia, crouched low amongst the sillum. His lightsaber grew heavy in his hand, the ridges suddenly awkward in his palm, but the grip he’d started to lose on his lifeline gave rise to something he couldn’t ignore.

It was another temperate day and the sun had created the most brilliant reflections on the surface of the lake. With the grasses and trees swaying in the wind, Anakin closed his eyes, reaching out with the Force. He didn’t prod or poke, but rather he cast a wide net, a delicate caress, to connect with the life that teemed. It sang to him in a multi-layered harmony, acting as a prominent reminder that the Force flowed in all living things. And when his eyes fluttered open, he watched you carefully as you walked towards the water, your feet crunching on the smooth pebbles that made up the beach. You turned around to give him a dazzling smile, moving with deliberation to slip off your clothes. Your laughter echoed in the crisp air as you dived into the lake, disappearing under a swathe of emerald green, only to resurface in the middle with a large grin plastered to your face. He didn’t hesitate to jump in, to shed his clothing on the spot. A shudder ran down his spine at the thought of what happened shortly after.

Sometimes it was hard to return to the present, to remember that he’d sleep alone that night while you were only just waking up, systems away, most likely after another fitful slumber. There were times where he thought these visions would serve no other purpose than to derail him, when the temptation of your touch shadowed his desire for victory. These moments guided him to channel the Force within, so as to remind himself of why he was doing this in the first place. Because it was more than just a coping mechanism. It was an anchor. A thrumming pulse point. A gentle acknowledgement of the life he wanted to come back to.

It’s then that he wondered when enough would be enough, when the war would come to a stalemate, as it so often did in their history. The tide was turning, and he knew it.

And there it was again, that kernel of hope, that ember of light that shone in the depths of his soul. Even reduced to a ghost in his memory, you were tangible, so tangible now. He wouldn’t let the Separatists win. He couldn’t, because there was too much at stake. And so if thinking of you, in these ways, helped him remember that, he wasn’t going to stop.

Not for anyone.

#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker angst #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fic #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction #the clone wars fanfiction #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin fanfiction #x reader #rhi writes 💻

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purple-writer8 · 9 months ago

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Long Story Short - ACOTAR

“And he’s passing by, rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky. And he feels like home, if the shoe fits walk in it everywhere you go.”

warnings: war, war injuries, past relationship tension, new mating bond, self doubt, angst (but like not a lot), allusions to sex

1.9k words

Part 2 to Closure

Masterlist :)

You fought in the Winter Court battle along with Thesan and the Dawn Court’s Peregryn legion. You were a skilled warrior, trained by Rhysand himself— you used to love training, now you despised those memories.

Looking into the mirror in your bathchamber, you flinched as your fingers grazed over the purple bruises forming on the side of your face. It wasn’t pretty, it was horribly gnarly looking. A Hybern warrior had given you a hard blow to the face, beating you to the ground. If it wasn’t for one of the Peregryn warriors, Thesan would have probably needed to plan a funeral for you.

It was all a blur. One day you were mourning Rhysand and your failed romance, the next you were fighting in a war alongside him and all of the other courts. You had told Azriel that you did not care to make amends, and you meant it. But this was for a greater good.

A soft knock came upon the bathchamber, making you snap out of your haze and exit to find your brother standing there. Thesan looked miserable. Your brother was a protector, ever since you knew reason, and this war— the casualties— took a steep toll on his mental health. “Why are you here?”

He was supposed to be back in the war camp with everyone else. You only left because you did not wish to heal and sleep amongst Feyre and Rhysand. The wounds in your heart still needed time to heal.

“Azriel is hurt.” Thesan looked distraught. You could not explain the way that your heart plummeted at those three simple words. For some reason, it made your heart ache— the thought of Azriel hurt. “It’s his wings. I could not heal them… they are not the same as Callan’s. Will you try?” Thesan asked, and instantly you nodded. Your healing abilities were good, almost as good as his. You could try.

Your brother grabbed you and in a blink of an eye, you were winnowed away.

A chill ran down your spine when you winnowed into Azriel’s tent. He was screaming, Rhysand holding him down as he writhed in the bed— his wings shredded in a horrible manner. You felt yourself freeze, eyes wide— it was like you could feel his pain— and you would do anything to stop it. You would rather take on his pain than let him feel it.

Rhysand was there too, but for the first time ever, you didn’t even glance at him. No, instead you rushed to Azriel, kneeling besides him. There was something in your heart, something that made you strain, that broke you— all because you saw him in pain.

He stopped his thrashing when your hand reached for his face, his hazel eyes widening by the bruise that overtook your own face. “What happened?” He asked, as if he weren’t the one with shredded wings.

“Nothing. I am fine,” you assured him, feeling like he was truly gravely worried for your wellbeing. His eyes remained on you, searching all over your body for more injuries. “I am not the problem, please sit so I can heal you. Please,” you begged him, feeling like you couldn’t breathe the longer you stared at his wings.

He sat up, and you got to work.

You spent all night working on his wings, and by dawn they already looked much better than when you had come in. Azriel had fallen asleep, and he had slept peacefully for many hours all while you watched over him. You did not sleep at all, you were sick with worry.

“Thanks for coming, I know that you took a harsh beating in Winter,” that velvety voice you had once worshipped whispered from the doorway. To turn and see Rhysand there, in Azriel’s tent, made you angry.

You almost wanted to tell him to leave, but you were in no place to make commands. This was still his camp. “I came for Azriel. He doesn’t deserve this,” you responded bitterly and you meant it.

Ever since that talk the two of you had in your balcony, you had become obssesed with the shadowsinger. For some reason, you could not get him out of your head, even in the battle, while killing and fighting— you thought of him. “Well, I thank you. Thesan was drained after the battle and struggled to heal him… when he said you would do it… I doubted,” Rhys confessed, his violet eyes drifting to his sleeping brother.

“You think I am so selfish that I wouldn’t heal him just because he is your friend?” You asked, and you truly tried to reel in your emotions, but they were too strong for you to control. It wasn’t even about Rhys, you realized, it was about him thinking you wouldn’t help Azriel.

“You can sometimes be selfish, yes.” Rhysand shrugged, and you wanted to lunge foward and strangle him for suggesting you were selfish. He was the epitome of selfishness, and here he stood— accusing you after you came and healed his brother.

You had tried avoiding him ever since Thesan told you the Dawn Court would fight alongside him against Hybern. You tried picking your battles, and decided Rhysand was not a battle worth fighting, yet here the battle stood, picking you.

You decided to ignore the dig, your gaze drifting to the still asleep shadowsinger and asking, “how did he get so hurt?”

“He went to save Feyre’s sister from the Hybern camp,” he replied, and you could not explain the jealousy that surged within you at the mention of Azriel saving that girl.

Those freaks of nature bring more harm to Prythian than good, you wanted to tell Rhysand about his mate and sisters, but once more figured it wasn’t a battle worth picking.

A groan escaped the shadowsinger, and instantly you ran to his side, helping him sit up in bed. His facial expression was one of pain, and you knew taht he was trying his best to mask it. But you knew... you felt his pain.

“How are you?” Azriel croaked, his voice more hoarse than usual due to all of the pain filled screams he let out the night before. You scoffed in disbelief, “me?! I am not the one whose wings were torn apart.”

He winced at the reminder, but still his hazel eyes did not leave yours. “You healed me…” he said in the gentlest of tones, making your heart skip a beat. You frowned, wondering why in all of Prythian your heart was thundering inside your chest.

“Will he heal fine?” Rhysan’s icy tone snapped you out of the trance Azriel has you in. You turned to him and nodded, scowling at the High Lord. “He will heal completely but he will not be able to fly for a while.”

Azriel protested, saying how he felt fine. Though one cold glare from you made him sink back down unto the bed. Rhysand noticed this, how you were able to tame down Azriel with just a look. “For how long?” The High Lord asked.

“For a few weeks, at least. For the health of his wings, he can not fight anymore battles…” you trailed, looking at Azriel with a solemn expression. You somehow knew he wanted to fight, to protect his family and Prythian.

“How is Elain?” Azriel asked Rhysand, and you snarled. You had always been a jealous female, but always over Rhys, never over anyone else.

“Fine. Shaken up but fine, everyone is fine… we will be meeting up later today to discuss some things. Join us, Az…” Rhys’ violet eyes shifted to you, “you may as well.”

“Thanks for the permission,” you mumbled sarcastically.

Rhysand stared at you. A cold, unforgiving glare, then soon after you felt those talons you had once adored caressing your mind. He wasn’t looking for a way in, no, he was reminding you who he was— what he could do. You didn’t say anything, only glared at him as he left Azriel’s tent.

A beat passed and you turned to the shadowsinger, “I’ll get you some food.” You were quick to your feet, and before Azriel could protest, out the tent you went.

You didn’t understand your new and— quite blinding— feelings regarding the Night Court’s shadowsinger. You’d known Azriel for almost a century, and you had never cared for him further than for friendship. And now, suddenly, you felt as if you had been stabbed when Rhysand said he had been hurt because he went to save another female.

Was this your mind’s sick way to get over Rhysand? You stood over a pot of rice that boiled on top of a bonfire, filling a ceremic pot you had found with rice and chicken for Azriel.

Azriel. While you swooned over Azriel, some Ilyrian warrior snatched the plate from your hands and walked off. You shouted an obscenity, but the male’s glare made you shrink back into yourself.

Fuck your life. You looked back to the pot that had been cooking and realized that plate contained the very last of the rice and chicken. You couldn’t let Azriel starve.

You groaned and got some more rice from a nearby sack, throwing it in the boiling pot and letting it cook. A yawn escaped your lips as you watched the rice cook, then a few minutes later— it was ready for him. You served him a big bowl and went back to his tent.

You went inside, only to find Azriel squirming in bed, his large wings twitching uncontrollably. You gasped, setting the bowl down and rushing to him. “What happened?!” You shrieked as you tended to him.

“It’s nothing, really. I just stood up too fast,” he tried keeping it cool, but you knew well that he was hurting. You looked up at his face, and you gasped when you felt it.

A mating bond snapping inside your soul. So strong it almost sent you flying to the floor.

“What the fuck?!” You asked in shock, your chest rising and falling in a heratic manner as you stared up at the Ilyrian male. He looked devastated, solemn as he looked at you. “Im sorry…” he whispered, and you frowned.

“Why would you apologize?” You asked, still reeling from the knowledge of who your mate was. “It is disappointing, I know. To be mated to me instead of who you always wanted. If you wish to reject me…”

“Why would I reject you?” You asked in shock, your mind running an entire marathon as you thought about everything that this meant. Azriel was your mate… Rhysand’s brother was your mate. You had known him for ninety years and you never felt the bond, no… because you were in love with someone else before ever meeting him.

“Why would you accept me?” You reeled from his words, and your heart— you could feel it— begged you to accept him.

Because you thought back to the years you lived in Velaris, to your interactions with Azriel and the Inner Circle.

One Winter Solstice, before Under the Mountain, you and Rhysand got into it— and it was bad— one of the biggest fights you had ever had. You had left the townhouse in a hurry, not even putting on your shoes and coat. Rhysand demanded you to come back, his voice thundering in your mind over and over again. You didn’t. You were so mad, you sat in a small Velaris coffee shop— freezing to death— until Azriel appeared.

He held your shoes and a coat. You wondered if Rhysand had sent him, though he hadn’t— because Rhysand was still ordering you back in your mind.

As you recalled the many times Azriel only ever showed you kindness and gentleness, you took the bowl of rice you had made, handing it to him.

His hazel eyes widened in shock. He looked at the bowl, as if it was the most grandiose thing in the world. “You are serious?” He asked, his tone soft and gentle.

“Please eat, Azriel.”

Two Years Later

Losing Rhysand felt like falling off a precipice. Loving Azriel was like climbing right back up that hill. It was absolutely everything. Your mate was… perfection reincarnated. He swooped in. Just when your life could not get worse— he came in and turned it all around.

You never thought in a million years that Azriel would be, could be your mate. You had pined for Rhysand for ninety years for cauldron’s sake. But now… now you only ever thought of your doting mate, of the male that taught you that love could be something beautiful, something that you didn’t have to beg for or ask for. It was given freely, willingly.

You were currently sitting on your bed, preparing the final touches for Azriel’s winter solstice gift. It was already noon, and he had spent the day with his family in the Night Court as you had asked him to. He had wanted to skip his family’s celebration, but you didn’t let him.

Your relationship with the IC was still difficult, you and Rhysand were not yet completely healed from your ninety year tryst— but regardless of that, you never wanted Azriel to push his family away. Even though Rhysand and him had definitely grown apart.

Rhysand didn’t care about the bond, that was what he claimed. But then he grew hostile, and always sent Azriel on long missions— away from the Dawn Court where you resided, or he didn’t let Azriel visit you. He wasn’t jealous, obviously. He had a mate and now a son. Rhysand just did not think you were enough for Azriel.

You hummed a solstice tune as you fixed up the little gift box, and just as you finished it, your beautiful mate winnowed into your room. You squealed, lunging at him and wrapping your arms around his neck, eagerly kissinng him.

Azriel chuckled, “my angel seems happy to see me.” He hugged you back, despite the flowers he held in his beautiful hands. You nuzzled your face into his chest, warmth and love engulfing your senses instantly. Azriel was your home.

He kissed the top of your head as you pulled away. “How was it?” You asked him, watching as he moved to his dresser, carefully discarding all of his leathers. “Good, but would have been better if my angel mate was there,” he groaned the last part, still upset he didn’t spend winter solstice morning with you.

“Your angel mate was preparing your gift and spending the day with Thesan in the village,” you answered in a chirpy manner. You did not care that he hadn’t been there in the morning. All you cared was seeing him, period.

You watched as he changed his leathers into more comfortable clothing, salivating as you ogled the way his muscles flexed with any sort of movement. After he was done, he turned to you, a smirk adorning his handsome face, “ready for your gift?”

“Are you my gift?” You asked excitedly, making him laugh as he grabbed a tiny box from his discarded coat pocket and strided across the room towards you. Cauldron forgive you, but this male was your religion. “No… well… later.” He said, his voice gentle and soothing as always.

His loving arms wrapped around your waist, pressing you closer into his figure. You looked up at him, smiling as he leaned down to engulf you in a passionate kiss. “I go first,” he whispers as he pulls away and hands you the velvety sapphire blue box.

You squealed and opened it to reveal two sets of keys. You smiled, eyeing the pieces of metal before looking up at Azriel with inquiring eyes. “I bought us a house in Velaris… near the hills…” He trailed off.

He eyed you for your reaction and then his wings twitched in excitement, “and a home here, in the city.” At that statement you gasped.

“What?!” You shrieked, eyeing the keys in sheer shock. He had bought two houses?! For you?!

“We can never agree on a place to live. You don’t want me away from my family, and I don’t want you away from your brother. So I figured… we split our time as we wish… I’ve spoken to both Rhysand and Thesan and they have agreed, we can go and come as we please. We get to live together without sacrificing our lives in our home courts.” Azriel explained, and the way he spoke made your insides flutter beyond remedy.

“You are serious?” You asked in shock, not expecting such a thoughtful and frankly, expensive gift. Azriel nodded, “all I want is to be near you. I will buy a home wherever you want as long as I have you. I know you don’t want me to leave my family… and I would hate for you to have to compromise for me…”

“I… fuck, my gift is so bad.” You cursed, rubbing your temple as happy tears swelled your eyes at the thoughtfulness of your mate. Thoughtfulness a partner had never given you in the three centuries you had lived.

“Angel, you are the only gift I will ever need. You know that. This bond… is everything I ever wanted, and more.” Azriel kissed your forehead as he soothed you. You rested your head on his chest until he asked, “is my gift the leather cuffs I wanted for my armor?”

“Yes.” You groaned.

“Fuck yeah, angel. Cassian will be so jealous when he sees what Nuan came up with.” You giggled at his words and handed him the box.

You watched as your mate eagerly opened and then put on the brand new mechanical cuffs. They were black and blue, and had some features that apparently would make him a more unbeatable opponent. “I feel like this is so bad compared to the TWO houses you just gave me.”

“Sweetheart,” he frowned, “you think I kid when I say my mate is my most exquisite, excellent gift?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, only for him to tackle you to the bed, his wings flaring wide as he peppered your face with sweet kisses all over. “You are all I have ever wanted.”

You laughed gleefully and gave in to your loving mate.

Long story short, you survived.

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @wallacewillow0773638 @lilah-asteria

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