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rainy-day-gracie · 1 month ago

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- wedding night (2) -

A Venus & Mars mini series

pairing: General Acacius x virgin!wife!Reader

content warning(s): reader insert, no use of y/n, arranged marriage, implied age gap but nothing specific, oral (f recieving), fingering, loss of virginity, piv sex, innocence kink, self indulgent praise kink, Acacius definitely talks you through it, discussions of consent because consent is sexy mandatory, discussion of future sexual acts, AFTERCARE because aftercare is hot, general acacius is in loooooove but doesn't know it yet haha, romantic and intimate as hell, grievous historical inaccuracy because it's fucking fanfiction, canon divergent because duh

a/n: So guys. I saw Gladiator II and it was awesome and Pedro Pascal is the sexiest man alive (in my heart). However, this character's name is not Marcus. I don't know who lied, but we've all been fooled. So in this sequel, the general's name is just Acacius in order to stay at least a little bit true to the actual canon.

I definitely will be writing for these two again because holy shit I made this romantic and I love them so much.

Read wedding night (1) here!

Read bloodlust here!

---

Acacius saw heaven in your eyes, a piece of salvation he never thought he might be able to grasp with his blood-stained hands.

He glanced down your body, wrapped beautifully in your white wedding gown, gold jewelry shining in warm candlelight. For a moment, he wondered Venus herself were tricking him with her immortal seduction.

But the blush of red in your cheeks, the shine of desire in your eyes, the beat of your heart in your chest....

No immortal possibly could mimic such evidence of true, temporary, and precious life.

Acacius had been with plenty women in his lifetime, had thought he understood what desire was.

I want you, you had said.

Now, he thinks he's only scratched the surface.

---

The general-- Acacius -- peered at you like a starving man at a feast, drinking you in, turning the wheels in his head of what he wanted to do first.

He grasped your hand in both of his, studying the golden band on your ring finger. Evidence of your gods-blessed union.

"I want to see you wearing nothing.... except for this," Acacius breathed, his voice low, and dreamy, like the words were slipping from him with no control.

"I'd like that very much," you said, trying to keep your hand from trembling under his touch.

"May I strip you bare, darling?" He asked, calloused fingertips fiddling with the clasp on your golden bracelet.

"Yes."

Instantly, the bracelet fell, and then the other, and then the other. Acacius' gentle touch drove you wild, methodical and sure. He stopped for a moment, glancing at the purity ring on your pinky, and smirked in a way that nearly made your knees buckle.

Glancing back up to your gaze, he held your stare as he pulled the purity ring off. His lips were a hairsbreadth away from yours, letting you smell the sweet cherry wine on his breath.

"Kiss me," you mumbled.

Acacius' smirk remained. "Patience, darling."

He tucked the purity ring into a pocket of his tunic, and turned you around, so your back pressed against his chest. A sigh caught in your throat, realizing he had turned you both to face the full-length mirror in the corner of the bedroom.

"Answer me honestly," he said, trailing one of his knuckles down the exposed skin of your spine. "Have you ever touched yourself?"

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you shivered at his light touch. "Uh..."

"Don't you lie to me, now. It's a great sin to lie to your husband," he whispered, his teeth nipping lightly at your ear.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I- I've touched myself. I've touched... my..."

"Your cunt?" Acacius mused.

You nodded, your chest rising heavily.

"Did you… like it? When you touched yourself?"

"N-no. I've been told it is not ladylike, to... pleasure yourself in that way."

Acacius kissed the back of your neck, making you arch into his touch. "Oh, my poor darling... there's nothing more ladylike in the world. Don't worry... I will show you how."

A full whimper escaped you at that, and Acacius undid the knots of your dress with a chuckle.

The dress fell, leaving you in only your loincloth, tied at your waist. But Acacius was looking at something else.

His eyes were transfixed on your perked breasts, his mouth slightly open as he wrapped one of his hands around the soft flesh. A high-pitched sigh left your throat, and he reached around with his other hand to take hold of the other breast.

"Do you like it when I hold you like this?" Acacius murmured, his mouth at your temple. He twitched his fingertips to pinch your nipples softly, making you close your eyes in pleasure. "Look at me."

Snapping your eyes open again, he stared you down in the mirror with a small devilish grin. He pinched your breasts again, pulling an answer from you. "Yes, Acacius."

"Good girl," he praised, your cunt throbbing at the words. He let go of your breasts, untying the cloth at your hips until you were utterly bare before him, save for your wedding ring. "Lie down on the bed, darling."

He brushed a palm over your plush backside, guiding you towards the beautiful linen bed. Plenty big for two.

You obey with a shy smile, sinking into the blankets and pillows like you were always meant to fit there. Watching from your comfortable bed, Acacius loomed over the foot, undoing buttons on his tunic, and ties on his robes.

Your lips parted slightly as he exposed the tan, scarred skin of his chest, flickering candlelight bathing him in a warm glow. He studied your expressions like a hawk, watching for any sign of discomfort or displeasure.

As he unlaced the toga and loincloth, leaving him as bare as you were, you had to keep yourself from gasping.

His cock hung heavily between his legs, not even fully aroused but still bigger than anything you had anticipated. He wrapped a hand around his manhood, smirking at your expression, but mercifully saying nothing about it.

“I am curious, my wife,” Acacius began, his voice a rumble. He pulled himself onto the marriage bed, caging you in the sheets with his arms and legs straddling. His eyes never left yours. “What did they say about me? When you learned of our union, what whispers crossed your ears?”

You licked your lips, speaking suddenly a challenge. “Um, that you w-were brave…”

Acacius leaned down, pulling one of your legs over his broad shoulders.

“…and strong…”

He mirrored the motion with your other leg, leaving your weeping cunt exposed.

“…a-and…”

Acacius paused, waiting for your answer. “And?”

“General, I shouldn’t speak ill…” you moaned, wondering if one could combust with desire.

“Tell me the truth, darling. Or you won’t get what you so eagerly want.”

“Th-they said you were cruel,” you stammered, desperately, any wall of self preservation coming down. “They said you took anything you desired, washed your hands with blood, and violence was the only language you spoke. Your rage eclipses that of Achilles, and your eyes blacken every time you raise a banner. You are of Mars himself, shedding blood like you were born to it.”

Acacius’ smirk from between your legs was wicked, and he broke your gaze for the first time since lying on the bed.

He studied your open cunt with a glazed expression, like he was lost in the pleasure of staring at your slick desire.

“If I am of Mars then you are of Venus, my darling.”

His words filled you with affection, the way his knees bent on the bed almost like he was worshiping an altar between your legs.

“So pure…” he murmured, as if the words had slipped from his lips.

Your back arched like a bow as he licked a stripe up your soaking slit, sighs escaping from your throat.

Acacius hummed with delight, fucking you on his tongue lazily, drinking your desire like nectar of the gods.

You buried your hands in his hair hesitantly, unsure of what would be pleasing to him. In all the times you eavesdropped on the married women of the court, never once had they mentioned anything like… this. Never once had they mentioned any of the overwhelming pleasure racking every limb of your body. Never once had they mentioned the lightning erupting over your skin with every brush of his calloused palm.

Acacius trailed his hands down your arched torso, cupping your breasts as his mouth traced patterns over your cunt. Your breathy moans made him chuckle into your flesh, the vibrations making you lift your hips with pleasure.

Throbbing built in your pussy, clenching around his tongue as your desire jumped at every brush of his lips.

“A-Acacius, gods…” you cried out, throwing your head back as a pinnacle raced towards you.

“Relax, my darling,” Acacius breathed, bringing one of his hands down to rest at your soft inner thigh. “I’m going to put my hands on you now.”

“Oh, please,” you begged, unsure of what it was you were begging for.

“Tell me if it becomes too much,” Acacius said, and his hand on your thigh moved.

The gentle brush of his rough fingertips on your slick folds had you gasping anew, pulling lightly on the locks of his hair.

“Such a pretty cunt,” Acacius mumbled to himself. “I have half a mind to just keep you like this.”

You whined in protest, your hips chasing his touch.

“So needy for a virgin.”

You threw your head back as his finger pushed past your slick folds, reaching spots inside of yourself that you hadn’t known existed.

“Oh, so tight, my love. You truly are pure.” Acacius curved his finger, brushing against something spongy, and sensitive. A guttural moan escaped your throat, and he laughed softly. “When the pleasure peaks, do not fight it. Let it take you away, somewhere only you and I exist.”

You nodded at his command, closing your eyes as your head sunk into the linen pillows.

Unrestrained cries erupted from you as he pulled his finger out, and in, and out again, hitting that sweet spot with every push inside of your aching cunt.

When he pressed his tongue to the bud at the top of your core, he pushed a second finger deep into your slick, making you wonder if the gods truly did become man. The stretch of his fingers pricked a pain deep within, making you clench tighter around his calloused fingertips. A slight brush of his rough facial hair against your core was your ultimate undoing.

You called out his name as the pleasure rushed down your spine, into your belly, and built in your desperate cunt. He knew it, too, and continued to thrust his fingers deep inside with renewed enthusiasm. His tongue licked against your clit with hunger, tipping you over the edge.

Cries escaped your lips as the pleasure overwhelmed you, every muscle in your body going taut as the desire took over. Your cunt clenched tightly, chasing his fingers, and your spire curved with tension as the wave of lust claimed you.

Acacius watched with a lazy smile as your core squeezed with your orgasm, evidence of your desire dripping off his lips.

“Acacius… Acacius…” you breathed as the climax subsided, your body relaxing into the bed once more.

“How do you feel, darling?” Acacius asked, crawling back up to press his nose against yours. His brown eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with adoration.

In place of an answer, you buried your hands in his curly, soft hair, pressing his lips to yours. He responded instantly, capturing your mouth with the passion of love and war.

His tongue pushed against yours, pure want seeping from every brush of his lips against yours. You gasped as his hands cupped your hips gently, like he was making sure you were a solid thing he could hold in his hands. Like he was worried you might slip through his fingers.

“I want more,” you whispered against his mouth, and he nodded with his eyes closed, like he was dreaming.

“It will hurt for a moment, but I will be gentle with you,” Acacius breathed, trailing light kisses against your throat. “Tell me when there is pain, or if you wish to stop.”

You nodded against his temple, and he pulled his lips back instantly.

“Say you want me, darling. Say you will tell me to stop if you wish.”

The intensity in those brown eyes, the desperation, had you squirming with desire once again.

You held his face in your hands, tracing your thumb against his rough stubble, studying him.

Acacius' nose was utterly Roman, looking like it had possibly been broken once or twice. Every mark on him was evidence of a man that had seen the Underworld and walked away, but not without a few scars to show for it. Though he had been nothing but gentle with you, there was no doubt he could live up to his reputation of bloodletting.

Still, you held him close.

"I want you, Acacius. I will tell you to stop if I wish to." There was no hesitation, no tremor in your voice.

He sighed in relief, reaching down to his hard cock and bringing it between your legs. You whined at the sensitive touch, and he grunted at the slickness of your folds.

"So wet for me, darling, so perfect," he moaned in your ear, guiding the soft flesh of your thighs to wrap around his hips.

Tentatively, he rubbed his cock up and down your core, getting you accustomed to the blunt feeling. You whined breathlessly, near begging for him to fuck you already.

"Patience, darling. I need to go slow to not hurt you," he mumbled.

The blunt head of his cock pushed past your sensitive folds, and you dug your nails into the strong muscles of his back.

Acacius let out a guttural groan into the heated skin of your neck. "So wet, and tight."

You called his name like a prayer, your head tossed back in pain and pleasure. Over and over again, you called his name.

"A little more, easy, easy..." Acacius moaned, pushing further into your virgin cunt.

You cried out in pinching desire. "S-so much, Acacius..."

"I know, darling. We're halfway there."

You held tight to him, his rough hands on your soft skin distracting you from the stretch of your cunt around his cock. "H-halfway?"

Acacius chuckled, holding still inside of you to let you adjust. "You feel... divine. So, so perfect, my sweet wife."

A high pitched moan escaped you as he pulled back slightly, kissing your neck as he pushed farther in. You clenched around him, and his lips on your clammy skin sent a fresh wave of lust panging though you.

But Acacius stopped, and you gasped in pain again, as if he had hit a barrier in your core he couldn't push past. You knew he could bottom out if he so wanted, but not without tearing you deeply.

Instead of pushing forward, he stayed where he was inside of you, tracing his nose along the curve of your jaw.

When he spoke again, his voice was low, almost like he didn't mean for you to hear his words.

"Do you want to know what I want, darling?"

You were too breathless to answer.

Acacius continued. "I want to fuck you so well that all of Rome hears you calling my name. I want to mark you with my mouth so you may look in the mirror and think only of me. I want fall to my knees and thank the gods that gave you to me. But for now, my darling... I want you to come on my cock with your most divine cunt."

Your cunt, as if on command, fluttered, and you moaned as he was able to fill you to the hilt without a pinch of discomfort.

"Oh, yes," Acacius whispered, his tongue darting out along your pulse point. You cried out in pleasure as he shifted inside of you, holding tight to his strong back.

"You... are... perfect, darling," he panted, thrusting slowly, in and out, in and out. "So warm, and tight..."

"Acacius, please..."

"Please... what?" Acacius teased, biting your bottom lip slightly as he pushed back into you.

"More... more," you said, digging your nails into the muscles of his shoulders.

Acacius responded in kind, chuckling at your desperation. "As my lady commands."

His thrusts into your aching cunt deepened, becoming harder as you grew needy for his strength. You tossed your head back with a high-pitched cry when he was able to hit that perfectly sensitive spot inside of you, and the reaction made him even more ravenous for you.

"Oh, you take my cock so well," Acacius praised, the words making your cunt clench around him. "So, so good, my darling."

As if he knew what you needed before you did, he pulled his chest away from yours, sitting up on his knees while thrusting into you. He looped his wide arms underneath your spread legs, angling you upwards on his thighs and pulling your hips up off of the bed. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you arched your back off the sheets with a shriek of delight.

"Acacius, Acacius," you cried out, the new angle sending him deep into your core, hitting spots you hadn't even known existed.

"That's it, say my name," Acacius said with a smirk. "Say my name when I fuck you, tell all of Rome who is making you feel this good."

You couldn't stop, the falling of his name from your lips dripping like sweet honey. All you could feel was the sweat of his skin against yours, the calloused of his hands as they gripped your soft thighs closely, and the depths of your core his cock was able to reach.

"You're going to cum for me," Acacius ordered, his words coming out in pants of breath. "You're going to cum for me, because you're a good girl. You're a good girl, aren't you? Letting me fuck her virgin cunt so nicely, such a good girl..."

At his praise, your cunt tightened around his cock, back arching like a bow. As you came, he pressed a calloused hand into the flesh above your pelvis, the pressure making your high all the more intense. You cried out his name, over and over again, the two of you becoming the only people in the world as the tidal wave of pleasure overwhelmed you.

Acacius' thrusts into your aching core sped, became less focused, and you knew he was losing control himself as you came apart underneath him. Your name fell from his lips as he pressed his hand further into the spot below your belly, where his cock seemed to bulge into his palm as your cunt pulsed around him.

"Such a good girl, such a good wife," he moaned. Only when your core could only twitch in response to his strong thrusts did he slow, leaning back over you and capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

A warmth pooled within you, evidence of his pleasure. You didn't know if you'd ever felt such an intimate connection with anyone as you did with him, his kiss burning a brand into your heart as the heat of passion faded.

Acacius pulled away after a moment, breathing heavily against your throat. "Hold still a moment," he warned. His palms pressed against your hips, his cock sliding from you with a slight sting. You followed his advice, your legs feeling weak and shaky.

You studied him as he crossed the bedchamber to the washroom, his broad back dimpling with the movement. Returning with a clean cloth and a faint smile on his lips, the dimple in his cheek made your heart swell as he saw your sprawled body on his massive bed.

"Feeling comfortable?" Acacius asked, eyebrows raised with amusement.

You nod, watching him as he crossed over to you, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips as he carefully wiped your messy core.

Breaking from your lips for a moment, he pressed his nose against yours, and you cherished the gentle, intimate gesture.

"Shall I call the servants for a hot bath?" Acacius mumbled, tossing the cloth aside.

"A hot bath sounds divine, but only if we may take one together," you reply, slightly giddy.

Acacius furrowed his brows in confusion. "What is making you laugh, my darling?"

You kissed him again, long and slow. Time stood still, and it was as if you could physically feel the bond forging between the two of you, forging in a slow burn of a crackling fire. It was warm, and easy, and comforting.

You broke away, studying him in his eyes. "You are simply... not what I expected."

Acacius smiled, that damn dimple curving in his cheek.

The most feared general on the continent.

Your husband.

Acacius kissed your forehead. "You, my darling, are everything I've been dreaming of."

---

taglist (people that asked to be tagged in part 2): @marianastudiesart @joeldjarin @fallout-girl219 @shantellorraine @lanadelslay69-420 @pedrofan

my request box is open! would love to hear y'all ideas for Joel, Acacius, Javier, or Oberyn :)

#general marcus acacius #marcus acacius smut #marcus acacius x reader #general acacius #general acacius x reader #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 fic #gladiator ii fic #gladiator 2 fanfiction #gladiator ii fanfiction #marcus acacius fanfiction #marcus acacius x f!reader #gladiator ii smut #gladiator 2 smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal

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hxney-lemcn · 5 months ago

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A Confession Through Written Words — Housewardens x gn! reader

summery: you confess through a love letter, it doesn't fail to warm his heart.

tw: none.

a/n: idk I was bored

wc: 1.6k (~200 per character)

Master List

❥ Riddle Rosehearts

You had put your all into the presentation of the letter. You tried to make your handwriting as neat as possible while spilling your feelings astutely so as to not overcloud the meaning or make it look like a joke. Perhaps you were overthinking the whole ordeal, but who wouldn’t when confessing your feelings? You had managed to slip the letter into his bag without him noticing. In fact, he wouldn’t find the pristine white letter until he was getting ready for bed. At first he was confused, he hadn’t recalled receiving a letter, but it was addressed to him, and he carefully opened it, making sure to not rip the rose sticker holding the envelope closed. Riddle wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t a meticulously written love letter from you. His heart rate sped up, his face burning a bright red once he got to the end. He could barely sleep that night, not with you running through his head. The next day he dutifully wrote his own letter as a reply, handing it to you without meeting your eyes. Open it once you’re alone, yeah? He doesn’t think he can handle your reaction even though you were the first to confess.

❥ Leona Kingscholar

You weren’t sure how to approach Leona with your feelings. He tended to be a bit snarky and you were a bit sensitive about your feelings. You don’t think you could handle him dismissing you or making a rude comment in your moment of vulnerability. So what better way then to write a letter? You knew he wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t perfect, if anything he’d tease you for not saying it to his face, but you could handle that. After you rewrote the letter for the eleventh time, you decided it was good enough and you made your way to Leona’s room. He watched you lazily as you entered. You thought he was asleep, so you placed the letter on his nightstand before taking a seat on his bed. Curiosity ate at him, but he refrained from making any comments, using the guise of sleep to pull you into him so he could finally get some good rest. When you left, he took no time to rip open the letter, carelessly ripping the lion sticker in two. He couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him, even though he was the best, it was still a surprise to read your genuine feelings for him. He won’t let you worry for long, tomorrow he’ll make sure you know that you're his herbivore.

❥ Azul Ashengrotto

You had tried to confess to him before, but his suaveness had left you tongue tied everytime. Or when his suave facade crumbled into a genuine care…that left your mind reeling, unable to mutter how much he meant to you. So you wrote a letter, and even though writing how you felt was easier than speaking it…it still wasn’t easy to write. Your trashcan was filled with crumpled up papers with pencil marking scratched out. When you finally had a letter you deemed good enough, you tried to make it look as fancy as you could. Unfortunately, Floyd had snatched the letter the next day before you could even greet him. You watched him run away with genuine horror, hoping that he wouldn’t read it before Azul at the very least. Fortunately for you, Floyd held off on opening it, handing the letter to Azul with an eager smile. Jade watched on as well, somehow already aware of the predicament. Glaring at the two, Azul opened it later when he was alone in the VIP of Monstro Lounge. He had recognized your handwriting right away, carefully thumbing the pearl sticker before opening it with a letter opener. Azul could barely get through the first sentence without becoming an overheated mess. He’s another one tossing and turning that night. Instead of blatantly stating his feelings out in the open, he offers you to go on a date so you know that he’s serious about you as well.

❥ Kalim Al-Asim

You had tried to confess to him…many times. Every time you told him you loved him, he just smiled back and told you he loved you too…but you knew he didn’t understand you meant it romantically. Every hand hold, cheek kiss, hell, you both had cuddled multiple times and he never seemed to get that you were interested in him as more than just a friend! So you decided to write exactly how you felt, getting all your messy feelings out in the open. With how bubbly he was, you didn’t feel too awkward handing him the letter in person, only telling him to read it later when he’s alone. Unbeknownst to you…Kalim had almost lost your letter multiple times that day. Not that he doesn’t care for you! He’s just a bit of an air head that has too much on their mind. Please thank Jamil for hanging on to it, reminding Kalim to read it after dinner was over. When Kalim finally read the letter (after fawning over the adorable golden retriever sticker), he couldn’t contain his excitement. He almost ran straight to your dorm if it weren’t for Jamil blocking him. Expect multiple gifts the next day along with more affection than you thought was possible. Kalim needs to get his bouts of cute aggression out, and what better way than drowning you in jewels?

❥ Vil Schoenheit

As much as you adored Vil, he was a bit…intimidating. His lilac gaze could pierce through the toughest metal, but it could also melt the coldest heart. You had unsurprisingly found yourself falling for the star, but you couldn’t help but feel like a fan no matter how you thought approaching him with your feelings. If anything, the letter felt like the most cliche fan stereotype ever, and even though he called you a friend, you feared he’d take it the wrong way. So you decided a letter was the best bet, that way you didn’t have to see his reaction. Yet when you had tried to sneak the letter to him, it was out of your hands in the blink of an eye and you stared in horror as Rook offered it to Vil. At first, Vil thought it was fanmail, staring at it with slight disdain, but he opened it anyway, not caring how the crown sticker tore. He barely scanned over the letter until he read your name at the very end, eyes glancing up to see your terribly anxious expression. So he reread it, this time carefully scrutinizing over every word, and although a letter wasn’t exactly how he wanted you to confess, he still felt his heartbeat increase with every lovely feeling you felt towards him. Closing the letter, he watched fondly as you fidgeted, clearing his voice and demanding you to ask him on a date properly.

❥ Idia Shroud

You had been secretly fawning over Idia for so long you felt like you were going to burst. You had wanted to confess to him for so long…but you feared that you’d break the poor man. So you decided to write him a letter…er more like a text. You weren’t sure if he’d even know how to open a letter… Poor, poor Idia. He nearly had five heart attacks when he saw your chat bubble appear for twenty minutes then disappear only to appear again. He tried to play his game, ignore the damned three dots that kept taunting him, but his eyes couldn’t stop trailing down to his phone. Do you know how many times you caused him to die? Oh boy, and when you did send it? The little blue heart at the end had nearly ended him before he even read a word! He had read and reread the text so many times you couldn’t even count, and don’t mind that he screenshotted it and saved it to a super secure private photo album so only he could see it. Don’t expect a reply. He’s too busy having a meltdown, hair burning a bright pink for the rest of the night. Do expect Ortho to ramble about how happy his brother got the night before, unsure of why but happy nonetheless. And when Ortho finds out why? Expect a text from Idia saying that he doesn’t mind your presence too much…yes Ortho forced him to say something back and yes that was him confirming that he likes you back.

❥ Malleus Draconia

Malleus was traditional to an extent, that was something anyone could tell. He also always had you feeling like you were living in a fantasy romance novel with the way he treated you. You hadn’t even thought of confessing your feelings in person, a letter seeming like a traditional and very Malleus adjacent confession. You tried your best to write with fancy curling letters…if you failed at that task…that's up to you. What stumped you was how to give it to him. In those old timey romance movies and novels they sent it through the mail…but you both lived on the same grounds. Handing it to him seemed a bit too forward, and you either didn’t trust or felt too embarrassed to ask his retainers to pass it to him. But you sucked it up and went to your safest option, Silver. Malleus was surprised to have a letter handed to him, another one to open it with a letter opener. He felt his breath hitch with each word you lovingly wrote, warmth blooming in his chest. Like the gentleman he is, he writes you a loving letter back (one that you can barely read with how loopy the cursive was), and it’s the most poetic thing you have ever read. Be prepared to cry at how much he loves you.

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endless-ineffabilities · 7 months ago

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chemical override (3)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Both having busy schedules and working in different cities, the reader and Ewan make an effort to keep contact with each other. Will Ewan ever make his feelings known? Will a possible scandal derail their budding romance?

A beautiful floral arrangement awaits you as you return to your hotel suite in LA.

Luxury red roses preserved in an elegant black velvet box, accompanied by a printed note on the side.

Congratulations on your new project, darling.

All my love, Ewan.

Your assistant had alluded to a special package having arrived just before you came in, and you're met with this.

It's the loveliest of gestures and you instantly wish to call Ewan to express your thanks. However the hour is late, the digital clock face reading 10 pm. You'd had a long day at work, having gone through the entirety of rehearsals once more. Filming will officially begin in September, and your focus is much needed as you step into a new role.

Noting the time difference - it would only be around 6 am in the UK - you decide to put off calling him for tomorrow.

It's only been a week since he first confessed that he misses you, and since then, he's had no trouble saying it each time you speak, almost as if the floodgates are opened and he's more confident in expressing himself with you.

I told you, Phia had simply said when you shared this with her.

The strong possibility of Ewan harbouring feelings for you has caused you to become distracted the past few days. If he does, why hasn't he asked you out yet? Granted, you'll be working long-distance for a while, but still.

You quickly wind down from a long day and soon find yourself comfortably huddled in blankets with your laptop propped open in front of you. Winding down, of course, includes some time scrolling on your phone or watching things without a care.

A new video catches your attention on Youtube's home page. One of the segments from Ewan's Vanity Fair feature.

Ewan Mitchell on his firsts and currents

You smile to yourself before you even realise it.

The video starts with Ewan introducing himself - "Hi, Vanity Fair. I'm Ewan Mitchell and I'm here to talk about my different firsts and currents." - He smirks at the camera. You smirk right back as if he can see you.

"So first ever role?" he says, directed by prompts behind the camera. "Technically, my first ever role was for a very small, short film called Stereotype ..." He laughs, remembering how young and inexperienced he was. "... and my current role - none other than the One-Eyed Prince. So far, my favourite as well I have to say."

He continues with his first and current favourite film, pets, song or type of music to get into character... and so on...

Then he gets asked about - his first ever and his current celebrity crush - "Uhhhmm," he looks to the side bashfully, clicking his tongue as he thinks of the simplest answer, "I don't think I had celebrity crushes growing up. It could have been some of the actors I admired, that inspired me... "

Such a classic Ewan answer, that one. You wonder how he would also dodge the question of his current celebrity crush.

"As for my current crush... well... it might be someone from the cast of House of the Dragon, actually." He smiles knowingly, as if he's aware that your stomach is in knots as you watch. Who will he say? Phia? Olivia?

"I really admire ... " He says your name, and your eyes widen like saucers. "She's an amazing actress - I think we can all agree - and a very dear person to me... "

Ewan, you sneaky charming bastard.

" ... so yeah," he shrugs, nonchalantly, but he surely knows he just sent you - and the entire fandom - into a tailspin. "I guess you could say she's my current celebrity crush."

Curious, you pick up your phone and get to scrolling. You've turned all your notifications off, not wanting to become occupied because of them during work.

Sure enough, it's an endless flurry of likes, comments, and messages.

In your most recent post, tons of people comment about Ewan's interview, trying to bring it to your attention.

hotdpolska29: girl, go watch Ewan's Vanity Fair video RIGHT. NOW.

melodygellerr: be honest, is this photo for Ewan???

peraltajake99: now she has to say that Ewan's her celebrity crush too !!!

cassiethemendler: forget Ewan... guys she's acc with jacob frickin elordi. Did yall not see the pictures

There's simply too many comments to go through. One statement and already everyone has formed their own opinion, their own conclusion about how things are in your personal life. It's one of the drawbacks of being in the public eye, and you still don't fully know how to handle it.

As part of PR for your new film, you and Jacob had been tapped to make appearances in public together, photographers hired to make it seem like the two of you are on a date.

The whole thing confused you. You're friends with Jacob, and naturally you hang out with him anyway. All this celebrity subterfuge seems unnecessary. But he was kind enough to guide you through it. "It's just part of the job," Jacob assured. "This whole Hollywood thing is silly, isn't it?"

Since you're both single actors, it wouldn't hurt for people to believe you might be dating. It attracts attention and any publicity is good as they say.

As long as you know what's true, then the public can believe whatever they want.

You end up liking and responding to some comments, and ignoring most of the other ones that pry too much into your private life. Never mind the haters, who also give their own two cents about your alleged involvements with Ewan or Jacob.

Suddenly, the screen is brightened from an incoming call from Ewan One-Eye . You are still pleased with yourself about the name. Your excitement is spiked as you press answer. Having a crush never gets old.

"Mornin', you," you greet him. 11 pm for you in LA, 7 am for him in England.

"Evening, darling," he says with a smile. He's still in bed, with one hand behind his head while the other has his phone pressed to his ear. First thing in the morning, and he feels compelled to call you. If that's any indication, the boy doesn't lie when he says he misses you every day. "You about to go to bed?" he queries.

"Mhmm," you hum, lying down and mirroring his position. "By the way, I think I've got a secret admirer or something."

"What? Who?"

Struggling to hold back a laugh, you continue, "I think you're missing the point of a secret admirer."

"Yeah, yeah," he sighs. "Anyway, what's going on? Are they bothering you?" He sounds worried already, but a bit more should be fun.

"No, but I found a box from them in my room."

"Did they break in?" He sits half-upright, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," you breathe out a tired laugh. "Ewan, I'm - " ... kidding, you want to confess, but he rambles on.

"If you need me, I can take the next flight out."

"Ewan - honey - I am messing with you. I do appreciate the floral arrangment box, by the way, thank you."

A beat of silence. He slumps back down on his pillows. A smile creeps up unrestrained on his lips. He fondly thinks that his girl almost gave him a heart attack at 7 am.

And he loves it.

"You're welcome," he replies. "And if I wasn't fully awake before, then I am now. Good work, darling."

You're pleased - he didn't deny the admirer bit of it all.

"Seriously now, thank you. They're the best surprise after a long work day."

"I'm glad you like them," he says sincerely. "Rehearsals still going on?"

"Yup, two more weeks of this, then a month-long break, and finally filming in Atlanta."

"Hmm," he says, then pauses, framing his next question as best he can. "Are you... do they... that PR relationship business, is that - "

You help him to it. "Well, technically, yeah," you respond. "But they're not laying it on thick with Jacob and I. Everything is alleged by the media and no one will make any sure statements."

When you shared the truth of the pap walk, he had a bunch of questions about it. He had sounded detached and cold at the beginning of that call. Then you complained about relationships for publicity, and he quickly got the gist. You'd think his mood took a complete 360 then.

From sounding completely disinterested with Jacob, Ewan then took to reassuring you that he's a good guy who would respect your boundaries. He's still not a fan of the whole thing, but it's your job.

And... well... it's not like he's your boyfriend or anything. What claim could he have over you?

"And something you said has the public divided," you add.

"What did I say?" he smirks, playing it coy.

"Ewan."

"You're going to have to elaborate, darling."

An idea pops up in your mind. Two can play at this game, Mitchell. "Listen, I'm flattered that I'm apparently your celebrity crush, but you can't say shit like that! I don't think my boyfriend Jacob would appreciate it. He's very protective, you know."

A full minute passes, you hear his heavy breathing on the other line. He wants to curse out at the picture you presented but holds back for you.

Then, "You're so funny, darling."

You laugh genuinely, and all his worries dissipate. "I know."

"A downright comedian."

"Thank you."

"I can't believe you're my celebrity crush," he sighs dramatically.

"You put that on to yourself, mate."

"Hmm." He sure did. He wasn't lying in that interview - you are his celebrity crush, but that seems reductive. He likes you, he misses you, he loves being around you. "The only right answer would have been you. You're the one I think about all the time."

He says things like this, so sweetly, and it's everything. It drives you off kilter that you get tongue-tied at work when you think about it.

But he hasn't said or done anything more. The flowers were a nice touch, sure. Maybe he's gearing up to it? Does he have something up his sleeve?

In the moment, it appears not. He's flirty, as he always is, but you've had a damn long day and the butterflies in your stomach are exhausted too.

"Ewan, I'm gonna go to bed."

"Oh. Right."

"Long day tomorrow. You know how it is."

"Of course. I... I miss you, darling. Sleep well."

"Mhmm," you find yourself responding, not mirroring his statement. "Bye, have a good day."

You end the call, wondering if he caught on at the end. Perhaps you sounded a bit too dismissive, but a voice in your head says, hey - if he wants you, he's gonna have to show you. It'll take a lot more than flattery and banter to win your heart completely.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

That night in London, Ewan sits in a corner booth of a pub with Tom, Luke and Elliott and it's relatively causal, with the boys just catching up over a few pints.

Until Luke mentions you and Jacob, questioning whether that whole story was real or not.

"Absolutely not," Ewan says immediately, shifting in his Adidas tracksuit as if to take up more space so the boys will pay attention. "I talked to her about it and it's all just PR nonsense, trust me."

"Look at this one gettin' all defensive." Tom claps Ewan on the back in jest.

"Well it's true," Ewan just shrugs. "They're not together."

Elliott jumps in, eager to rile Ewan up even more. "For now at least. I've heard that these PR couple things eventually get a little too real, if you know what I mean. The lines tend to get blurred."

Ewan slings his pint back, before engaging. "What do you mean?"

"Well, look at it this way," Elliott explains. "She hangs out with the guy a lot. They laugh, dine and work together. Maybe they even have to make out several times for the film. It's easy for feelings to spring up from all that business."

"Life imitates art, innit?" Luke offers.

"Yeah, maybe soon it won't just be PR. I've heard of some celebrity couples who did that," Elliott says.

Luke adds, "Wasn't there that one PR couple that got married and all? Who was it - I can't remember now - "

Tom intervenes, wary of the way with which Ewan grips his pint glass. "That's all nonsense, come on. Surely that's not a common occurence. I worked with all you guys, and I can't stand any of ya. If anything, she'll be so sick of Jacob after they work together." That earns him a laugh from the twins, who then assign him to get the next round as payment for that jibe.

Ewan stays silent, his mind whirring. Usually, the boys wouldn't mind. They know it's just his way, being a focused and observant lad on and off set. But they sense something else underneath.

The twins share a look, a bit guilty due to Ewan's expression.

Ewan looks up and reassures the table, "Hey, it's alright. Whatever she chooses to do, I get it."

"But come on, mate," Tom says. "Everyone knows you like her. Literally everyone. Even she knows it, I bet. Why don't you just make the bloody move already?"

"I dunno," Ewan starts, not sure of the answer himself, "it just didn't seem like the right time, with her being off across the pond for the rest of the year."

"So what, you're just going to let it slide? Do you want her or not?"

"Mmm, I do." Ewan keeps to himself most of the time. But Tom's got a way to loosen his taut edges.

"Well, as promised, I'm gonna get us all another round," Tom declares, earning cheers from the twins.

Two pints turned into three, then six, seven and so on. Pretty soon, the lads get properly and well smashed. Ewan's never been the biggest drinker, but when the social situation calls for it, he can put them back just as well as the next guy from the Midlands.

"So come clean, mate," Tom drawls, his arm slung around Ewan's shoulders. "Are you in love with her already or what?"

Ewan laughs, rubbing a hand over his face to wake up a little. It doesn't work - the glare of the warm overhead lights is strong and make him feel woozy.

"Could be," he says. "But that's none of your business." Smirking, he points at Luke, "Or yours," then at Elliott, "or yours."

"Hey! C'mon," Tom protests, feigning hurt. "Am I not going to be the best man at the wedding?"

"No way, Aegon the Magnanimous," Ewan shakes his head. "My brother'll be the best man."

"So there will be a wedding," Luke says. "Does the bride know about it?"

"He hasn't even asked her out yet," Elliott teases. "I triple dare you to ask her out right now. Right fuckin' now, Ewan."

"No," Ewan says, but in his sloshed out state, he secretly considers just doing it. "I gotta go for a smoke, lads. Tom was right, I can't stand you anymore."

"Oh, boo!" Tom shoves him out of the booth. "Hurry back, lover boy."

Ewan makes his way to the alley behind the pub. He's thankful that a pub at midnight offers the perfect setting to disappear into anonymity. Everyone's just as drunk or they simply don't care about celebrity culture.

He takes a few puffs of his cigarette, the nicotine quickly reawakening his nerves. Thinking back to the twin's suggestion, he thinks, why the hell not? Why shouldn't he ask you out already? Who cares about the PR shite? If word gets around that you're his, the facade about you and Jacob will get shelved.

With his cig lodged between his teeth, he has to take extra care to call you, the glare of the screen not doing wonders for his inebriation.

The lines beeps, and he's met with your voicemail. You must still be at work or just getting off it.

Still with Jacob. Something in him stirs, and it's not just the bloody alcohol.

He clears his throat, prompted by the notification to leave a message - "Hey, darling. Hey... beautiful... I guess I'm missing you and I... I miss you, isn't that funny?" he starts, proud of himself for making the joke. "I'm out with the lads right now... had a couple of pints. Maybe one too many? I don't know. And... uhhh - "

He stomps his smoke under his shoe, nervous ticks getting the best of him. Here he goes, make it or break it. "I was thinking about you. As I always do. Because I've never felt like this about anyone before. Ever. And I'm sorry it took me this long to ask, but I want to be with you. No - that's not right, it's too quick... I mean, yes, I want to be with you, but I gotta do this right. I want to take you out, properly, on a date. Will you... will you please? I've got some business stateside and I could have that scheduled sooner, and I could come see you. And we could... I just want to see you. So fucking badly, baby. I - I - okay then, I suppose that's all. Good... good morning? No - evening. You're beautiful and I just..." he sighs deeply, because words will never do you justice. "... goodbye."

The line cuts off and he tucks his phone away. Smiling to himself, he feels euphoric from getting that off his chest. The message was coherent enough, he thinks proudly, and it couldn't have sounded better all things considering.

If he could pat himself on the back, he most definitely would. He can already see it, the perfect first date with you.

The lads are going to go nuts over this, he knows for certain. He makes his way back inside the pub, a boy renewed.

A lover boy, as Tom and Phia call him.

No truer words have been spoken.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

It's 10 pm yet again when you make it back to your suite. Having notifications on your phone turned off while you're at work, you're met with a barage of messages and the usual social media frenzy.

But only one thing stands out - a voice message from Ewan One-Eye, sent just around 4 hours ago.

You settle in for the night, making sure you're all prepped to go to bed before playing it, thinking you can maybe call him afterward.

You hear the beep, and the message starts - "Hey, darling... uhhhh so hey, I - uh fuck I'm missing you right now, must be at work eh? And I miss you - " You note how he sounds drowsy but his words are punctuated. Like he's making an actual effort to simply speak. You realise he must be drunk. What's a drunk Ewan doing calling you? " - that's so funny, innit? Which suits cause I'm just a bloody joke cause I took too long... to tell you... that I... I think about you all the time, I'mcrazyboutyou y'know... I wanna be with you... withyou - " He's drunk, you keep reminding yourself that he's drunk. But the effect of his words aren't diminished. He's got you hooked. " - I got work out there too... so I'll - uhhh - see you then and... take you out then and - fuck - kiss ya... I want to kiss you so fucking badly, baby. You're perfect for me, and so beautiful, and I wish Aemond would wed your character cause - as th'twins said - life imitates art!" He snickers at his own remark, and it's the most endearing thing ever. "So... yeah, good, darling. Goodb - " and the line cuts off.

"What the fuck," is all you can speak out into the quiet room. Lying back on your pillows, you actually laugh out loud and kick your feet like a puppy-love drunk highschooler.

The sun is rising across the pond and Ewan has probably just made it back home, immediately collapsing in his bed all wasted.

But he's getting a call tomorrow - and you pray to the fictional Westerosi gods that his intentions are clear, drunk or otherwise.

Kismet is a funny thing. Once a fan of the show, you're now an actress on it, about to date the Aemond Targaryen.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Ewan's eyes flutter open. The sunlight is weakly coming in from the window shutters in his room. Confused, he glances at the digital clock face and it reads 6:18 PM.

So he slept through the whole day. Brilliant.

It's unlike him to mind his phone first thing after waking up, so he trudges to his bathroom to douse his face with cold water and brush his teeth for a good long while, trying to recall the events of the previous night.

It had the usual workings of a proper pub night with his lads, and he barely remembers the last night he got that sloshed. But anyway, all in good fun, and he genuinely enjoys their company so it must be worth the pounding headache he feels right now.

The lads... an unknown and possibly excessive number of pints... Oasis playing on the speakers... Tom generously buying a round of drinks for everyone in the pub... and of course, you.

The memory has his attention, and he thumbs through his phone as he makes his way to his kitchen to prep his staple black coffee with seven sugars.

He remembers it - kind of - leaving a voicemail, and he's pleased that he finally, finally asked you out. Never mind that it took him getting drunk off his noggin to do it.

But there's nothing from you. Not a message, nor a missed call, nor a voice note.

He tries not to let it worry him right away, but it does. Maybe you didn't hear it yet. Maybe you were too tired from work and weren't checking your voicemails.

Maybe... maybe...

His phone suddenly buzzes in his palm and he mumbles, fuck's sake, out of surprise. But it's not you calling. It's his publicist.

"Hello, good evening. How are you doing?" he greets cordially.

"Ewan!" she exclaims. "Finally! I've been trying to get a hold of you all day."

"Oh, right," he says guiltily, "I'm so sorry, I just had a long night and - "

"I know, Ewan, I know. The whole country - no - the whole world knows by now. Bloody hell, it's always The Sun, isn't it? Those idiots, I swear."

He straightens at that. If a tabloid is involved, it can't be good news. "What's happened?"

His publicist sighs, ready to relay the news, "The Sun did a story on you and the other cast members. About having a wild night out in the pub. It's useless fodder, really, nothing wrong with having a night out."

"Right, right... but - " Ewan says, sensing there's something more. Something worse.

"There's a picture of you with a girl - "

"What?"

"I think I've seen her before. She must be a cousin of the Tittensors? You know her, of course."

"I... I don't - "

"Anyway, according to the paper, you and her were flirting it up a storm at the pub. She had her arm around you and everything. Do you want to look it up now? I can give you a moment. I'll stay on the line."

"Fuck," Ewan mutters to himself as he does a quick search of his name. The headlines make him wish he never did so.

House of the Dragon Stars On A Wild Night Out: INSIDE SCOOP!

EWAN MITCHELL SPOTTED WITH MYSTERY LADY

Aemond Targaryen IN LOVE? See PICTURES Inside!

"I don't think I remember her," he swears to his publicist, "I was just drinking with the lads and there might have been others that joined us but I - what the fuck - I don't - "

"It's okay, Ewan," she reassures him. "We can deal with this. This bullshit just comes with the job, as you should know. It'll be fine."

No, it's not fine.

Because it dawns on him why he hasn't heard back from you.

"Fuck."

💌 next chapter

Taglist: @sprinklesprinkle888 @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @uwuuness @strbellz @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @rhaenys-nyra @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @cardiganlovesblog @strangersunghoon @darktrashsoulbear @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @chixnugg22 @athenafaes

Not drunk Ewan thinking his voice message sounded a lot better than it did! 😂

The story will extend further than 3 parts, as it turns out! In the next one, the reader and Ewan will be reunited - any guesses on what will happen?

Comment and let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist 💕

#ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell imagine #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #chemical override #aemond targaryen x reader

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pleasureable · 2 days ago

Text

Pink Goes Well with Purple

Summary - After entering in a series of death games, a popstar fallen from grace finds comfort in a certain purple haired stranger.

Warnings - mentions of reader having pink hair (hence the title lol), ooc Thanos?, bad writing, please excuse any grammatical errors, this is pretty short

A/N - this is my first ever attempt at writing fanfiction for a character so I know this story might be hot ass, I just really wanted to jump on the Thanos bandwagon since he's one of my favs from this season and there's not enough fics on here for him to quench my thirst lol

Once a universally loved popstar, the emotional distress caused by the separation from your ex-boyfriend caused you to fall down a rabbit hole of sex and drugs, not to mention the $70,000,000 lawsuit you were slapped with after punching a paparazzi for putting his camera just a tad bit too close to your face. The heavy fallout from the legal battle was enough to make the whole world turn its back on you. Essentially blacklisted from the industry as a whole, you were desperate to rebuild your image (or at least get your money back) in any way you possibly could.

That's when you were approached by a man in a suit offering you $100,000 if you beat him in a game of ddakji. Managing to win 2 out of the 3 games played, you were given your $200,000 as promised by the suit-clad man standing before you.

"You know, I have a simple solution to your debts." he said. You were confused as to how he knew you had debts, you didn't recall mentioning your financial situation to him, at all. You tried to brush his comment off, maybe he had seen your name in a tabloid mentioning your lawsuit somewhere and he recognized you.

"How do you know I'm in debt?"

No answer, he just pulled a card out of the inside pocket in his suit and handed it to you. "We don't have many spots left so if you're interested, please call us as soon as possible." Then, he was gone.

You spent the rest of the day looking at the brown business card given to you, you took notice of the shapes that were on the front of it. The simplistic design of the card was weirdly intriguing. On the back, a phone number. On one hand, you didn't want to be wasting your time. On the other hand, you needed money in order to rebuild your life. So, this could either be the biggest scam or the biggest blessing of your entire life.

Fuck it, you dialed.

You didn't really know it at the time, but that phone call would unleash a chain of events that would change your life, forever.

That's how you winded up in the situation you were in now. Transported to a room designed to simulate a courtyard, a giant doll on the other side of the room.

Suddenly, you heard a voice come up from behind you, "Hey señorita" the deep voice spoke. Turning your head around, your eyes were met with the sight of a tall, purple haired man. "Knew I recognized that pretty pink hair from somewhere. You're that singer that socked that paparazzi guy in the face; Y/N, right?"

"Yes, Y/N. Who are you?" I said back. "You don't know who I am?" He said, a twinge of pretend hurt in his voice. "Am I supposed to?" You always had a slight dislike for people who expected everyone to know who they were. Clearly, this guy was one of those people.

"No, but we can get to know each other. Tell me about yourself, beautiful."

"Are you flirting with me?" a slight smirk began to form on your face. While his attitude was a bit off-putting, he was pretty cute.

"Yo, pink hair, you're so fine

like a bouquet of flowers, all intertwined

You're the rose to my thorn, the petal to my stem

Red, orange, yellow, green

I'm a legend, Thanos"

You giggled at his comically bad attempt at freestyling. "Thanos, huh? I guess that would explain the purple hair. Although, you're not as hideous as the titan."

"I'll take that as a compliment, petal."

Masked men wearing pink jumpsuits began to round up every other person who was dressed in the same blue-green sweatsuit as you and Thanos; you did a quick head count, confirming the amount of people to be about 400. Once a female voice on the intercom explained that you were all going to participate in a game of Red Light Green Light, the big robotic doll began to recite the games' chant.

Red light, a bee had landed on the neck of the girl standing in front of Thanos while the doll was scanning the room for movement. ''There's a bee on you, don't freakout." Instantly, the girl began to swat at her neck in an attempt to get the insect off. While the scene unfolding was slightly amusing to watch, your heart felt like it had stopped once a single bullet pierced her forehead. Her blood had splattered onto Thanos's face, and you watched as his face dropped once her body hit the ground.

Green light, Thanos picked up his cross-shaped necklace and opened it, revealing an array of colorful, circular pills. "Want one, petal? They'll help you relax." Red light, you stood still while staring at the pills in his hands; you had been clean for a little over 3 months now, but pill popping had never sounded better. "Fuck it, give me one."

Green light, he quickly placed a blue colored pill in your hand then grabbed an orange pill for himself. He grabbed your hand and started to lead you both further across the courtyard. Immediately, you began to feel the effects of the mysterious pill you had just ingested. As you continued to advance through the game, your vision became nothing but a colorful kaleidoscopic blur. The sudden energy burst allowed you and Thanos to quickly cross the red finish line, jumping, dancing, and twirling together on the way there.

After the game was over, the remaining players were all taken back to the room where your bunk beds were. You and Thanos were standing against a wall together, giggling at seemingly nothing. "Stick with me from now on, petal. I'll protect you." He said, finishing his statement off with a playful wink. "THE Thanos wants to protect me? Wow, I'm so fucking lucky" you chuckled. "I'm serious! I wouldn't want anything to happen to my flower now, would I?"

You just looked at him with a slight smile. His nickname for you made you blush, your cheeks taking on a subtle hue that matched your hair. He had such a way with words, you couldn't help but be totally charmed by him. "Fine then, let's team up. Thanos the Mad Titan and Y/N, Popstar Fallen from Grace; world's greatest duo." Your words made him smile like an idiot. He loved your company already.

"Of course we're the world's greatest duo. Pink goes well with purple, petal."

#thanos x reader #choi su bong x reader #choi seunghyun #squid game #squid game x reader #thanos #choi su bong #t.o.p #squid game 2

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rainyyynightssss · 9 months ago

Text

Twisted Wonderland

Reacting to you trying to go back home

Characters: Overblotters

Notes: Yandere/Toxic themes involved

"Crowley thinks he might've found a way for me to get back home!"

Riddle Rosehearts

He looks at your smiling face and something in him breaks. He should be happy for you, he really should. This is what you had wanted from the beginning. To see your family and friends. To be free of magic and almost getting killed by overblots.

But you should've been happy here. He'd order his card soldiers to keep the rose garden in prim condition for you to gaze upon whenever you visited. The birthday parties always included a dish you liked. You got along well with Trey and Cater. Sure, Riddle was strict with his rules, but he grew more lenient with you. Surely, you could see that.

"That's wonderful news. And you're...happy to leave?" He tries not to let his voice crack as he grips one of the legs of the table they had just used to share dinner together. Apparently for the last time.

"Of course, I'll be happy to see everyone back home. It is a bittersweet feeling though. I'll miss you all." He chooses to ignore the 'all' part of your phrasing for a moment. You'd miss him and isn't that enough reason not to go?

"We'd all miss you as well....I, especially,-"

"But I think it'll be good for me to go and be back with my family, you know?" You add and he tenses again. He knows well how important family could be, and he also knows how burdensome they are. His mother forced him to adhere to strict guidelines, and while it shaped him into the respected house warden he is today, it also made him afraid. Terrified, even, that everything would go wrong if the rules were not followed.

Perhaps that's what you needed. A healthy dosage of fear and some rules to keep you in line. You were his perfect rose, blooming and unblemished. You had always managed to drag him away when he got too deep in his studies and talked him down when his face became as red as the flowers in his garden. But now your edges have grown frayed. You're trying to go back to your roots but he'd rip you out of the ground, thorns and all, to keep that from happening.

"Right. Well, it's gotten quite late and it wouldn't be proper for you to walk back to Ramshackle this late at night." He sensed your confusion even before you could voice it. You've taken plenty of late-night walks before and this would hardly be on the top list of most dangerous things you've done at the school.

"I can walk back-"

"I insist. I couldn't let you go...to your dorm! This late." Riddle shakes his head and covers his blushing face with a hand as he stands up from the table. "I have a room for you. If you'll take it?" He offers his hand to you, hoping you will miss the small trembles.

You smile at him again and take his hand, sending warmth even through his gloves.

"Just for tonight." You nod. Riddle gives you a small, though tight at the ends. His rose didn't need to know about the details of their stay, only that it was going to last longer than they thought.

"Of course. Although I must make sure you have an adequate stay. Rules indicate that guests should have the most hospitable experience, no matter how long that takes to fulfill." Riddle answers with ease and you see nothing wrong with it. His rose would blossom even more under his careful watch.

Leona Kingscholar

"And?"

The notion of you leaving was laughable to him. You had already managed to barge your way into his life, ruining his plans at the Spelldrive competition, ruining his nap routines, and ruining his pride as a prince. And he wouldn't have it any other way. Though the latter is still mostly kept intact.

You look at him, seemingly flabbergasted by his dismissal.

"And...that means I'll likely be leaving soon." You tell him. He sees your small frown. You must think he doesn't care that you're leaving. But it was quite the opposite. As much as he would never admit it to himself, he cares so much that he denies any possibility of it happening. He knows you don't actually want to leave.

Leona watches you sit up from his bed that both of you had been lying in for the past few hours. He grasps your wrist before it can leave the sheets. His grip is tighter than usual. Leona had always been like that. He demanded respect and expected you to follow. You, of course, were not so willingly submissive to him but that made it all the more fun for him to make you.

"Ruggie isn't going to be back 'till later tonight. I've got more sleep to catch up on. Especially after you bothered me last night." Leona tugs your wrist to bring you back closer to him while he rests his other arm under his head. Last night you had came to him, clearly anxious about something and didn't want to be alone. Anyone else he would have turned away with a scoff, but he's found over time that he has a hard time refusing you. As long as it didn't involve you trying to run away from him.

"Are you even listening to me?" You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks.

"I have and it sounds like a buncha nonsense. Go back to sleep and maybe you'll forget your dumb ideas in the morning." Leona grumbles and pulls you to his chest. He hears you huff but you don't resist, lying back down beside him. He doesn't know exactly why you're having these kinds of thoughts but it doesn't really matter to him. If you want to run, he is glad to give his precious prey a chase.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul's hands freeze in the air, his fork and knife about to cut into the juicy salmon that had been plated beautifully in front of him. He glances up at you, his smile also frozen on his face, as you were just talking about how much you enjoyed Night Raven College and the Mostro Lounge. All until you abruptly switched to this topic he thought he was doing a good job at evading.

"Ah, isn't that...delightful?" His words would have come off as calm to anyone else, but you notice the slight strain in his voice. You always seem to see right through him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you-"

"Upset me? No, quite the contrary. I think it's wonderful the headmaster has finally secured your passage back home." Azul muses and goes back to cutting his salmon, though it's obvious that his cuts are a bit more jagged.

"Yes... he said it could be any day now." You respond carefully. You try to offer him a smile as you take another sip of the drink he gave you on the house. He could see the small ounce of hope in your eyes of going back to your world. That wouldn't do.

"Is that so?" Azul takes a bite of his food, swallowing before adding, "It's really too bad you won't be able to go then." He continues eating, ignoring your confused eyes as if he didn't just say the strangest thing.

"Why wouldn't I be able to go?" You ask slowly. "I mean, the transportation might be difficult but-"

"It has been a while so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you forgot." Azul sighs and dabs his face free of any smudges with his napkin. "You may not step out of the bounds of Night Raven College by any means, including the Dark Mirror."

"According to who?" You let out a disbelieving laugh.

"According to Article 3 Section 5 of the contract you signed." Azul takes another bite of the salmon, not letting himself react when you slam a hand on the table.

"What contract?! I never signed anything!" You snapped. He remains as calm as ever. This time, you couldn't read him, couldn't even see his eyes through the glint in his glasses.

"You must remember when you agreed to work in the Mostro Lounge for a couple months. I had you sign an employment contract. I warned you about reading it through to the end. A suggestion I don't give to most poor, unfortunate souls in this school." Azul answers.

He did indeed give you the small packet to look through and recommended reading it all. It wasn't his fault that Floyd made a commotion in the kitchen just as you started reading the end portion. Azul urged you to sign it while he dealt with the mess that Floyd undoubtedly caused and you did, just missing the statement that required you to be on-call even after your employment ended, and being on-call meant you always had to be within a certain range of the lounge.

"You can't be serious." You utter quietly with wide eyes, realizing exactly what he was talking about.

"I'm afraid I am. But don't fret too much. I think you'll come to like it here." Azul smiles again. A smile that's hardly recognizable.

He watches you jump up from the table and storm out of the lounge, passing confused customers who glance back at him. He takes a drink from his glass. Azul isn't worried about you walking out. You couldn't leave here, leave him, anyway. And if you tried to hide from him, he would just send Jade and Floyd to hunt you down. You have become one of his prized possessions, and he isn't going to let you go that easily.

Jamil Viper

"Really? It's about time." Jamil comments as he starts chopping the vegetables you prepared in a bowl.

He had invited you to try some new recipes with him that he'd then distribute to the Scarabia students. For the past few months, you had been inviting yourself into their kitchen, much to Jamil's annoyance. You always offered to help him and he always declined, especially when it came to Kalim's meals. He was not going to lose his job over a pretty face. You respected his refusals but you still liked to watch him for some odd reason. Today, he finally decided to let you help him.

He appears to be half paying attention to your words while you're stirring the stew. "Haven't you been waiting a while?"

"I have. Crowley's been pushing off researching but I finally made him go through with it!" You look quite proud of yourself and if Jamil wasn't so irritated, he might have thought it was cute.

He simply hums in response and continues swiping his blade through the onion, each cut sharper than the next. He should be fine with you leaving. People come and go, after all. It would make things easier for him as well. He would stop getting distracted so easily, riddling his fingers with knicks from the blade when his thoughts drifted off to you.

"Kalim also promised to help me pack my stuff. He's eager for me to see my family." He sees you smile absentmindedly as you stir. Jamil's hand clenches tighter on the knife.

"Of course he did." He mutters to himself. Kalim got everything we wanted, didn't he? He got the wins, the praise, the Housewarden title. And now he was going to send you off. Jamil bet he was even encouraging you to go and like always, Jamil would just have to accept it. Only this time, he wouldn't. Jamil never got anything he could have to himself, always having to share with Kalim. You would be the one thing he could keep just for him.

"That reminds me, I needed to ask you something," Jamil says and you look back at him. He takes a step closer to you and leans forward, whispering the name of his unique magic. His lips widen into a smirk as he watches your irises fade to red.

"You'll be staying here, won't you?"

Vil Schoenheit

He raises a perfectly trimmed eyebrow as he works to pluck yours with tweezers.

"Hm? That's not the line, darling," Vil says. In your hands is the large packet of paper that contains Vil's script for his upcoming film. He had asked you to practice lines with him. You agreed and in exchange, you asked him to put some makeup on you. It was something he's been wanting to do anyway so he obliged. All was going well until you dropped this bombshell on him.

"I know, I was trying to figure out how to tell you and I accidentally just blurted it out," You sigh.

"Mhm. And Crowley has- Close your eyes, now - provided a way for you to get back home safely?" Vil asks as he moves on to your eyes, brushing an eye shadow across your lids that matches your skin.

"I don't know if anything about that man is safe, per say, but he did seem pretty confident about this." You respond as you keep your eyes closed for him. Vil shakes his head with a small 'tut'. The headmaster didn't exactly have a track record for reliability. He voiced exactly this to you.

"Crowley may just end up sending you on a one-way ride to nowhere. There's no telling where he could send you, why not wait for a few trial runs?" He places a hand under your chin. "And besides, why do you need to go home so badly?" Vil puts the palette back down and takes a tube of lipstick in his hand.

"Well, I want to see my fam-" You're forced to stop talking until he finishes applying the lipstick, "I want to see my family and finish everything I had going on there."

"If that's the case, I don't see what you could do back home that you're unable to here. And if you want to see your family, shouldn't you make sure your travel is safe so you can get back to them in the first place?" Vil questions as he wipes the small smudge of lipstick from the bottom of your lip with his thumb.

"That's...true." You nod reluctantly. Vil smirks a bit as he moves his hand towards the back of your neck, his thumb tilting your head up so you can look at him properly.

"Correct. And if I'm not mistaken, you've built quite the life here, haven't you?" He watches you slowly nod and he soothes the back of your neck with gentle fingers.

"You really want to throw that all away?" Vil looks down at you with questioning eyes even though he already knows the answer. You shake your head.

"No...but I also know that's something I'll have to do if I want to go home." You tell him firmly. Vil lets out a sigh and turns away from you for a moment.

"If you say so, but at least let me leave you with a parting gift." He turns back towards you and presents a small perfume bottle with a fancy font across the lid that you can hardly. It would no doubt cost hundreds in the market.

"My own creation that I've been working on. You're the first to have it." Vil says as he hands it over. You take it with a bright smile.

"Thank you! I'll try it on as soon as I get back to Ramshackle." You respond excitedly as you move to stand up from his makeup chair but he places a gentle hand on your wrist.

"I'd like to hear your critique as soon as possible. You are my perfect model, after all." He says with a glint in his eyes. You didn't seem to have any problem with that and sprayed a few spritz of the perfume on yourself, promptly passing out in the chair. You would get it through your head eventually that you belong here. You just need a little more convincing.

Idia Shroud

"Hold up, what?"

Your sudden words caused him to press the wrong button and his character gets brutally killed by one of the forest monsters in the game. You wince and put down your controller, turning towards him on his remarkably soft couch.

"Yeah...sorry to tell you so late but it looks like it could be soon." You say and Idia tosses his controller to the side, facing you as well.

"So you're gonna go? Just like that?" He asks in shock. You only recently just started playing video games with him in his room. Before, you had to practically beg him just to play a game with you when you were both in different dorms. It took a lot of convincing but he soon gave in after some persuasion from his brother. Once, you showed up to his room to see if you could play in person and he stared at you with wide eyes for about five seconds before slamming the door in your face, apologizing later over text.

He was unbearably anxious around you at first but he got used to the idea that you wouldn't judge him so easily. So he showed you another side, his more competitive and ill-mannered side to see if that would make you go away. And you still didn't. You instead embraced him for it. So why now were you just going to forget about all that?

"I-I mean I have to," You were clearly caught off guard by the intense look in his eyes, "I have a home and a family and friends-"

"Yeah, yeah, sure but what about everything you have here?" Idia insists.

"Everything I have here?" You ask.

"Y-Yeah, those first years, Grim, your dorm, me- many other things!" He stammers out. It would be way too cringe to mention himself deep down he hopes he's one of the things that could keep you here.

"Of course I'll miss everyone, but I miss everyone back home too," You say. Idia sighs deeply as he throws his head back on the couch.

"You're reallly set on this, huh?" Idia asks. You bite your lip and nod.

"But I still-" You try to add but he cuts you off.

"No, I get it. I wouldn't wanna be around me either." Idia sighs again. You look at him with wide eyes and fervently shake your head.

"No, it's not like-"

"You must have better friends back home if you're so desperate to see them again." He adds as he looks away with a frown. You don't notice him peeking back at you. You sigh and tilt your head so you can fully meet his gaze.

"Look, I'll talk to Crowley, see if he can push it back a bit." You tell him. He looks at you curiously.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna pressure you if-"

"No, it's okay. I want to spend more time with you and everyone anyway." You give him a small smile and he smiles back. He could play the pity card all day if it meant you'd stay.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus pauses in his steps, looking at you with a wide, curious gaze.

"You're leaving?" He utters. The two of you had been enjoying your nightly walks together back to Ramshackle. After one too many fights and attacks happening after hours on campus, he thought it best to escort you back home. He could easily teleport you both back to your dorm, but it gave him a good excuse to be around you more.

"Yes, hopefully it'll be soon. I'm excited to go back!" You smile enthusiastically and Malleus can only offer a grimace back.

"I suppose you could say I'm a little surprised. I thought you were happy here. Did I assume wrong?" He asks as he continues walking you to your dorm. Normally you would have never been able to keep up with his pace but he always kept a slower one for you.

"Oh no, I am happy here. My friends have been wonderful and I'm glad I'm friends with you. There's just some things I could do without." You mention offhandedly as you gaze up at the moon. He looks down to see it reflected in your eyes. The moon is wondrous but all he can see are the eyes that pinned a man who could never yield so deeply. You managed to befriend a dragon who is intimidating in every manner. That kind of connection isn't so flimsy that it could be dismissed by thoughts of departure.

"Things such as what?" Malleus perks up at the idea of solving one of your problems. As powerful as he is, there are a number of things he can't help you with. He couldn't do anything about your assignment getting deleted after your internet 'crashed' or about the friendship problems you once had with the Heartslabyul boys, but he's always eager to listen, just as you always do with him.

"It's just some rowdy guys from Savanaclaw who are still mad about the Spelldrive competition. They've been bothering me a bit but it's not a big deal." You tell him and he stops the both of you this time with a hand on your shoulder.

"Bothering you? For how long?" Malleus didn't mean to turn his hard glare on you but he couldn't help the fury building up inside of him. Many of the students already noticed your looming shadow that often followed you around like a lost puppy, which was usually enough to keep them from trying anything. Malleus isn't naive enough to believe that students at this school are always on their best behavior when he has his own business to deal with in the Diasomnia dorm. However, he swiftly and discretely took care of any nuisances that he happened to notice. He didn't think you were keeping anything from him.

"Like I said, it's not-" You try to soothe him but his glare only hardens.

"For how long?" Malleus repeats and he doesn't plan to a third time.

"For about a month now...but I can handle it myself!" You insist but he ignores the latter half of your sentence as his face morphs back into a gentler one.

"So that's what's been burdening you? I wish you'd have told me sooner but it's no matter. I'll take care of it." Malleus assures you.

"I mean that's one thing, but I have other reasons-" He cuts you off with a pat on your head as the two of you stop in front of Ramshackle's doors.

"You don't have to ruminate on it any longer. Do try to tell me about any other troublesome students in the future. I'll handle them and anyone else who tries to ruin your happiness here at Night Raven College." He vanishes in a flurry of lights before you can say a word. Any serious notion of you leaving is unthinkable to him, and if you do come up with more reasons, he'll make sure to take care of those as well.

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thoughtsfromlayla · 10 months ago

Text

26 Ways of Taking You: A for Aphrodisiac

Summary: On a quest to save your little brother, you and your fated companion Dream of the Endless, run into a small problem in Aphrodite's Temple.

Notes: ~2.2k words, GUYS! I finally wrote a fic that wasn't below 500 or above 5,000 words, it just doesn't need any random side characters... or a definitive plot.

Warnings: MDNI - 18+, dubious consent, sex pollen, aphrodisiac (duh), porn without plot, unprotected sex (get tested yearly guys), P in V, no foreplay just straight fucking, Dream is a red flag but he's my red flag. I am willing to die on that hill.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

B for Breeding

“A temple of Aphrodite?” You question as you walk through the marbled entrance. The overwhelming smell of roses fills your senses and the honks of swans disappear as you cross into the building.

Morpheus follows closely behind. The drizzle of rain seemingly bounces off his coat and hair leaving him dry like the Sahara. On the other hand, you, the poor human with no otherworldly affiliations, were soaked to the bone. Your light jacket and sundress stuck to your skin until it became itchy and you quickly take off your jacket to dry easier in the momentary shelter.

You miss the way Morpheus stares at your exposed shoulders and legs. His eyes run up and down your body, to the way the dress sticks to you like a second skin.

“Aphrodite loved Ares, unlike her vowed husband. But such is the game of gods.” Morpheus explains and peels his eyes away from you.

You lean on a large pillar that supports a large brazier, one of many others. The heat helps you warm up and the shivers slowly leave your body as it dries your clothes.

“So, Ares is… here?” You say without much confidence.

When the fates set you out on this quest to find your brother, you hadn’t even packed your lunch yet. They just threw you to the wind and then gave you Morpheus as a guide. As for him, it was so “He could get out of the house more” as his older sister has explained it to you.

So, here you were, soaked in summer rain and sharing conversation with Dream of the Endless on a quest to find your kidnapped brother - all of which happened since this morning. The everything bagel and cream cheese you had for breakfast sat uncomfortably in your stomach, the same stomach that was screaming at you to eat something as your journey had left you to skip the midday meal.

“Ares is behind this gate created by Aphrodite,” Dream sighs as if he were spelling out the obvious. “Yes, it is a possibility.”

You simply roll your eyes. For someone who is almost infinitely older than you, he certainly didn’t act like it. Feeling warmer and dry you started exploring the temple, running your fingers across the divots in the carved stone much like the climbing ivy that decorated the walls.

At the end of the temple stood a magnificent statue of Aphrodite herself, wrapped in cloth and her hair flowing in the wind. Beneath her pedestal, you could make out a rectangular outline made out of large roses.

“Hey! The door!” You exclaim in excitement. As much as you hate to admit it, Morpheus was right. He usually was right but you’d rather keep that comment to yourself, in case the ego inflates any more of his head and he drifts off. Which, would unfortunately leave you on your own to solve these puzzles.

Morpheus appears behind you, peering over your shoulder at the door.

“Seems like a hidden mechanism. It would be wise to not touc-”

You press your palm onto the center of the door and it gives away to the pressure of it.

“You fool!” Morpheus seethes out and you tense.

It seems like a trap, now that you think about it. With bated breath you wait, slowly inching yourself closer to Morpheus in hopes that the King of Dreams may be able to protect you if something were to go wrong.

Yet, nothing.

The door slides back into place, the sound of marble against marble scraping against each other in the otherwise completely quiet sanctuary. The quiet atmosphere stays peaceful for a few seconds but ends when a yelp escapes you when the roses suddenly go into full bloom, the petals giving a “floosh” right in your face, its sweet pollen dusting both of your bodies. You stare wide-eyed at it waiting for anything else to happen. When nothing did, you let out a sigh of relief and turn to Dream with a smile.

“See, nothing to worry about.” You shrug with your palms facing upwards. The two of you stare back as a golden engraving appears on the door.

“One from two, enter together.” You read out loud while trying to dust off the shimmering pollen, sneezing when some enter your nose instead.

Great, a riddle but nothing comes to your mind as you think. Morpheus glares at you still and his eyes drift down to the palm that touched the door.

“Your hand is glowing,” He states.

You look down at your open palm and panic. The skin is bright pink and as Morpheus has stated, glowing. You scream at your hand and shake it aggressively. When the glowing still doesn’t reside you scream again and face the palm towards Morpheus’ face and shake it aggressively to grab his attention.

“Enough,” He commands and grabs your wrist. The grip is stern but it doesn’t hurt and the warmth of his skin calms you down.

It is now that you realize that the skin doesn’t actually hurt. There’s no burning sensation or pins or needles, nothing. Morpheus takes a closer look at your hand and you can feel the exhale of his breath fanning your palm. It tickles and you try to pull away, but his grip doesn’t relent.

“What? Do you see something?” You ask, your other hand is clenched in on itself as a way of grounding yourself.

Morpheus doesn’t entertain you with an answer and instead brings his face closer. A sound that you didn’t know you could produce comes out from your throat as you feel the warm, slick feeling of his tongue on your palm.

“Wha..mm” Your words fall short and he licks again and a whimper leaves your lips. You look up at him, his eyes are closed as he inhales deeply.

He brings your hand to his cheek and leans into it. When you release your hand and he lets you, you see that your glowing mark has smeared to his cheek. You come in closer, nervous about marking the Endless but he stops you again. He peers at you, all silver gone from his eyes and instead blown pupils pull you deep into their voids.

His hands find themselves around your waist and you place your hands on his chest to stop him from invading any more of your space. It doesn’t and he advances still. His brooding act doesn’t help with voicing whatever he could possibly be thinking.

“Hey, what’s gotten into you,” You release a moan at the end when he presses his nose to the junction of your neck. The hot breath released from his mouth had your lower regions start to grow hot and slick.

When his tongue licks the length of your neck, your fingers grasp desperately at the lapels of his jacket, holding on tight as your knee buckle beneath you. Morpheus smelled like grass after a summer thunderstorm and he stood sturdy like an old oak tree.

You whisper his name and his grip tightens more, bruising and unforgiving.

He groans into your neck. “Aphrodisiac.”

Of course, Aphrodisiac, named after the goddess Aphrodite, the very goddess you are trying to please and solve her riddle. The thought crosses your mind momentarily but it is quickly cut short by Morpheus’ continued administration. The pink stain spreads further on Morpheus, anywhere and everywhere you touch him. Your cheek was pink as well, where he touched yours and markings of his tongue glowed pink as he continued his kisses down your neck and across your collarbone.

“Oh, gods,” You moan into his hair as he dives deeper towards your chest. Your body is turning hot and you can’t tell if it’s just the aphrodisiac or the way he is touching you. Perhaps it’s neither, perhaps it’s both. Either way, you can’t stop the sounds that escape your lips.

He presses forward and you step back until your back hits the pedestal and Morpheus’ large frame follows, trapping you between a rock and a harder place. You can feel his erection pressing against your stomach, hot and heavy and begging to be released.

With restraint, Morpheus pulls back and pants into your neck. Your own breath was ragged, your tongue felt heavy when you speak.

“Please,” You whisper, your hands travel down his chest, pink smearing along his black shirt, and cup his erection.

He looks at you now, eyes peering into your soul asking you if you really did want this. You nod, not trusting your voice for a second time.

“Say it,” He commands again, his forehead pressed against yours. “Say it,” He whispers in a plea.

You tip your head up and respond with the strength you have left. “Yes,” You murmur against his lips, barely brushing yours with his own.

He seals the deal with a kiss and hands once again go to your waist. He grabs you, hoisting you up and your legs immediately wrap themselves around his lean torso. You impatiently grind your heat into his as he dips his hands below your dress line and moves your undergarments to the side.

It was rushed, it was sloppy and it was nowhere near romantic, yet you’ve never felt so much excitement. No one was near but the peering gaze of the daunting Aphrodite statue made you feel exposed. Morpheus doesn’t bother to warm you up for him and the heat of his cock presses against your cunt. He pushes forward and it stings. Tears swell in your eyes at the intrusion, his cock splitting you open as he sets a rhythmic pace.

“Forgive me, forgive me,” He chants into your ear but the words fly in one ear and out the other. The pleasure the Dream Lord was giving you more important and present in your mind.

Your hand reaches into his hair and grabs onto his roots. A groan sings from his throat and you can’t help it when your lips connect to his Adam’s apple. You leave bruising kisses along his neck and continuously feel the vibrations of his moans, each one low and gritty.

Morpheus felt like he was about to lose his mind if he didn’t quickly finish the two of you off. His body felt like it was on fire and his head pounded in his skull with ideologies of fucking you until you were nothing but a pile of pleasure. When your nails grip his shoulders, he welcomes the pain and bites down on your collarbone to suppress his wanton moans.

You were too sweet for him, a type of innocence that he didn’t want to taint. Tears well up in his eyes as he realizes that he did it without him even knowing. The aphrodisiac completely consumes the two of you. He loved it, the feeling of your legs wrapped around his waist, your grip on his hair, your moans filling the space and echoing around the temple, but were not his to take.

“More, more, more,” You moan, head thrown back towards the ceiling and he couldn’t deny you the pleasure.

His thrusts become ferocious, slamming into you harder and harder until you were just a babbling mess in front of him. Your words range from his name to curses to simple pleas. The contractions of your cunt spasming around him make him falter for a moment but he presses on. When your orgasm reaches you, your scream is muffled by his open mouth kiss. His thrusts turn sloppy and uneven before he finishes as well and you feel the way his cock pulses within you. His semen drips out of your spent hole and mixes with your release on the polished marble floor.

Your body deflates as the orgasm finishes and you’re left panting and leaning on Morpheus as your thighs tremble around his waist. The door behind you opens with an ungodly scrapping sound and you look behind you. Lust was still evident in your eyes but you were pulled back to the real world again.

The aphrodisiac wore off and a blush rose high into your cheeks. You push against Morpheus’ chest not wanting to be in his space, asking him to put you down, but quickly realize that it was a bad idea when your knees buckle and you start to fall.

Morpheus grabs onto you to steady you and you murmur a thanks, too embarrassed to look at him in the eyes. The aphrodisiac has made you look at Morpheus in a different light, but there were more important matters at hand. You take one steady breath and readjust your underwear and dress, Morpheus releases his grip on your arms as you go to turn towards the open door.

Beyond the door is nothing but darkness with a slight wind blowing out towards you and the smell of metal and leather comes into your nose. Before you can go, Morpheus’ fingers wrap around your arm again.

“Should we… talk about it?” He asks in that low voice of his.

You look back at him, somehow finding the confidence to look at him in the eyes. You find that they are full of adoration and passion that it turns your eyes downwards again. You’ve heard the rumors of what it means to be the lover to Dream of the Endless. It is rainbows and butterflies, the world at the edge of your fingertips, but one wrong move, and you are cast away like you were less than nothing. You think of Nada, Queen of the First People, who is still condemned to Hell for declining his promise to make her queen of the Dreaming.

It’s too much, you have your brother to save, and there is no room to talk about love.

“Later,” You say instead. You still need his help and if the promise of ‘later’ keeps him around long enough until the end of your quest, then so be it.

“Very well. Later,” He repeats then follows you into the realm of Ares.

B for Breeding

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Want to be added to my tag list for my future fics? Comment, send me a message, or a DM and I'll add you!

This is going to be a 26 part series, all porn, no plot hehe ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)

Until the next fic,

♡ Yours, Layla

#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #the sandman fanfic #the sandman x reader #dream of the endless x reader #sandman x reader #morpheus smut #lord morpheus #morpheus x reader smut #the sandman x reader smut #dream x reader smut #sandman smut #sex pollen #aphrodisiac #no plot whatsoever #26 ways of taking you

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the-eb · 4 months ago

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new "things I noticed in the Walpurgisnacht Rising trailer" post: coherent edition

I'm going with the theory (laid out very well here) that the extra Homuras we keep seeing around are the Clara Dolls, either presenting in a different way or having matured into witches themselves. With that in mind:

These two shots show the same doll, Nekura, judging by both the headband and the wavy tips of the hair that homura doesn't normally have. Her eyes are also red, and she's wearing the black collar with white outlines reminiscent of her Doll form.

This looks to be Ibari, though I'm not 100% sure on that, given the colour of the hair. Probably just the lighting. Her role as Pride also fits with the imagery of her scrutinising the audience here, likely Homura in context.

Could also potentially be Noroma (Blockhead), though I don't think the visual fits quite as well. She is said to "laugh at the witch with her eyes," though, which would match with what she's doing here.

Though this Homura has her original purple eyes and white collar, the unusual headband and especially the engraving on the mirror ("Stupid Venus") make me quite confident that this is Manuke (Stupid-Looking). The band isn't a 100% match, but this also makes sense given that Manuke is representative of Homura during the time between the main series and Rebellion, matching with what's shown in the mirror. The headband is also tied in the same way as Madoka's ribbon was in her hair, which might explain the lack of resemblance to Manuke's headwear.

Not much to say about this shot, other than that the style and colours of those stairs combined with the familiar pattern around them resembling Oktavia's tail make me think this is a shot from within her labyrinth.

Other than the clear Icarus symbolism, the main thing worth noting about this shot is the streak of red in Homura's hair, extending out from underneath Madoka's ribbon (or its replacement). Probably an extension of the ribbon symbolically too, showing how bound she is to Madoka.

Unless these are Magia Record characters I'm unaware of, I think that the unadorned ring and black fingernail marking lend credence to the idea that these are the magical girls who once became witches in the original series. The only one I really have a guess on is this girl, where the fact that she's watching over a kintsugi glass holding the garden where Homura and Kyoko met in rebellion, the roses on her purse, and the glasses lead me to believe that this is Gertrud, the Rose Garden Witch. Her Adelbert familiars are said to have 2.5 vision.

This book appears to contain images of witches and their familiars. I managed to spot familiars belonging to Charlotte, Elly, possibly Patricia, Gertrud, and Oktavia, as well as Izabel and Elsa Maria themselves, though I'm sure there are more.

There's a single frame flash of Oktavia here!

The symbolism of the teacup next to the pool of blood makes me assume that this is Mami (or Candeloro!), though maybe I'm flanderising her. The rim of the cup and saucer do have a pattern faintly reminiscent of a flower, which reinforces this a little.

Please feel free to respond with alternate readings/other things you've spotted in the trailer! I crave knowledge

#pmmm #puella magi madoka magica #madoka magica #walpurgisnacht rising #walpurgis no kaiten #in other news this movie looks really really good #and i am not going to be normal before OR after winter 2025 #homura akemi #sayaka miki #i suppose?#long post

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esmedelacroix · 1 year ago

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Mr. O'Hara

ta!miguel o'hara can't resist student!reader's charms⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

cw: dom!miguel o'hara, age gap, smut, overstim, unprotected p in v, oral f! and m! receiving, slapping, creampie, pwp kinda

a/n: hey lovies, this is a little something I wrote like a year ago about a different character and it's one of the first things I had ever written so I took and revised it, and made it about Miguel. I hope you all like it, enjoy...

wc: 2k

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You were a college senior when you first entered Mr. Choi’s Biology Class. It was a relatively easy class but every now and then you would get entirely distracted by Mr. Choi’s teacher assistant Miguel O'Hara. He graduated from your department the year before and he was now doing his master's. Since Mr. Choi had been out for a month and most likely be gone for more to come, Miguel had been teaching your class.

This meant you were busy staring at his muscular biceps that bulged out of his button-up shirt, his forearms that flexed when he wrote on the board, his hair that was always styled perfectly, and his sharp jawline that looked like it could cut through steel. Instead of taking notes and asking questions, you daydreamed about him.

So it was no surprise when Miguel returned your midterm with a bright red F on the front. He held the test result paper to your face to grab your attention seeing that you were lost in thought once again. He placed the sheet of paper on your desk and motioned toward the exit of the classroom.

“My office, now please,” he said in a stern tone of voice.

Miguel paced back and forth collecting his thoughts before closing the door. You sort of knew Miguel before he graduated the year prior so you had expected him to be chill about you failing one singular test. You couldn’t figure out why he was so disappointed in your grade, and not any other students' because the whole class had failed. He ran a hand through his hair and took off his glasses to look you in the eyes; the tension grew thicker as the two of you stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity.

"What did you want to talk to me about Mr. O’Hara?" you had asked him, trying to sound as clueless as possible.

“Well, believe it or not, you were at the top of this class at the beginning of the semester, and please just call me Miguel,” he said as he leaned against his desk.

“Well, I knew I was good at Biology but I didn't know I was at the top of my class,” you said genuinely dumbfounded.

“So what's going on? I feel like you’re always daydreaming and zoning out in class nowadays. Your grades are slipping and I don’t want this to happen to you, I know your potential as a student.” Miguel said, as his expression softened.

“Well if you are as worried about my grades as you say you are, can’t you just raise them?" you asked with a blank expression.

"Well yes, I could if I wanted to be kicked out of school," he said, sounding sarcastically.

"It's just a few points," you said in a sing-songy tone as if you were teasing him.

"I can’t, it is a violation of school rules and unfairness for other classmates," he said.

"But, if I sleep with you, will you raise my score?" you asked as you sat back in the chair across from him looking up at him with fuck me eyes.

"Um, no?" Miguel said cheeks flushed with the bold proposition you had made.

"Come on, I know you had a little crush on me last year, your buddies on the soccer team told me," you said as the corners of your lips rose at his slightly embarrassed expression that he was trying to mask with confusion.

"Just, leave my office please," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You sure you don’t want this?" you asked as you traced your collarbone pulling his eyes to the tight button-up that showed some of your cleavage that you were sporting.

“Can you please leave? A no is a no." Miguel said as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his gray trousers, and turned away from you as you left the room trying to hide his obvious boner.

"Okay big guy I'll see you this weekend at your place," you left his room leaving the door open a crack.

“Seriously I won’t do it!” he called out.

. . .

Despite all of that denying Miguel had your legs spread across the armchair in his bedroom. His room had a huge ceiling-to-floor window overlooking the bright city lights. You looked out at the buildings that your teary and hazy eyes perceived as colorful dots. You were already three orgasms into the night, he never got tired of lapping at your folds and fucking you with his tongue alone.

Constantly letting you know that you tasted too sweet to be true. His calloused fingers circled your aching clit as he slipped his index finger into your wet, creamy cunt. He didn’t once let you touch herself; letting him eat you out was the reward that would make him give you that A+. He wasn't eating your pussy and making you squirt to make you feel good, he was doing it for his pleasure. He continued with both his index finger and his middle finger pumping them in and out of your sex. You watched as each muscle on his arm flexed as he fingered you.

Your hands gripped at the arms of the red velvety chair. You felt high on the feeling of him sucking your clit and fingering you. You couldn't help but squeeze around him as he added a third finger and pressed his forearm across your stomach holding you down as your legs began to spasm and your hips jerked up.

The wet, squelching, lewd sounds of Miguel's fingers going in and out of you filled the room, as your moans serenaded him, turning him carrying vibrations from his hardening erection threatening to bust the button of his slacks. Miguel brought his fingers to his mouth making sure he didn’t break eye contact with you. After licking all your juices off his fingers, he shoved them into your mouth, locking eyes with you as you sucked his fingers tasting a mixture of his saliva, your slick, and the whiskey he had beforehand.

His bulge was painfully visible through his trousers. "Take this off," he commanded, tugging at the hem of your pink button-up.

You slowly unbuttoned your shirt and tossed it on the ground along with your skirt, and panties. He smirked to himself, biting the inside of his cheek as he picked you up and took a seat on the armchair setting you on his lap. "Help me take my clothes off," he ordered with a smirk, enjoying how willing you were to do what he asked.

You unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside then you slid his pants and boxers off of him and watched his cock spring up and hit his stomach. You took a moment to take in the sight before you. Miguel sat back in the chair spreading his legs and motioning for you to kneel in between them just like he did to you moments before. "Are you going to stare at me or are you going to get to work?" he asked as he cupped your chin with his hand and slapped you across the face with the other.

You wrapped your hands around his warm veiny shaft. Your thumb and your fingers barely met when you wrapped them around his cock; he was that big. You licked the precum that was leaking from his screaming red tip earning a low groan from him. You slowly rubbed him in an almost teasing manner trying to assess how you were going to fit him in your mouth let alone your vagina.

“Miguel, you’re so big I don’t know how this is gonna fit-” you started.

“But you're going to take it anyway, right?” Miguel asked, trying to swallow his moans with his speech as you slowly stroked his length.

He grabbed you by the hair and guided your mouth onto his cock. You only had the tip in, but your mouth already felt full. He pushed your head down even further on his cock bobbing your head up and down.

You could feel him getting warmer and feel his length twitching in your mouth against your tongue. He pushed your head further to the base of his cock and you gaged on it. Tears burned your eyes as they fell down your cheeks. Mascara falling with them making a mess of your eye makeup. You slowly lifted your head, his cock leaving your mouth with a pornographic 'pop' sound.

You took a moment to catch your breath before stroking his cock at a speed you knew he'd love. You got up and straddled him with both of your hands on his broad shoulders supporting yourself. You kissed a line from his jaw to his neck. You lined his tip up with your sopping-wet cunt practically dripping on his aching cock with her love juice.

You slowly slid down his cock with a prolonged moan feeling the near-painful stretch. He could feel your tight pussy almost ripping his cock off when you started to move. You slowly moved up and back down again easing yourself into the feeling of his huge cock stretching your walls.

You felt like your body was going to rip in half but after a while, the pleasure completely washed over the pain. Miguel leaned his head back beads of sweat dripping down his neck and chest as you began to ride out your high. He was meanwhile mesmerized by your tits bouncing along with you as he tried not to explode in you right then and there. You frantically rode Miguel feeling your legs shake as a wave of pure pleasure and bliss washed over your body as you experienced the most intense orgasm of the night. Miguel started to pound his hips into you at an ungodly speed riding out his high. With one final thrust, he released his cum deep inside you. Tip kissing your cervix as he filled you up with his babies.

“Miguel,” you moaned breathlessly as you were barely able to think any thoughts but him.

Your body plopped against his, wet, sweaty skin stuck together as the two of you panted

“That was only the beginning, and you call me Mr.O'Hara got it?” he said as he lifted you up with him and brought you to the giant window outlooking the entire city. Your legs were wrapped around his waist as he suddenly put you down and made you face the window. He pressed your naked body against the cold glass. Your nipples hardening at the sudden temperature change. You jumped startled by how chilly the glass was against your hot skin. He turned on the fireplace nearby and whispered in your ear, “ I want the whole world to watch when I fuck you”

The hairs on the back of your neck jumped after feeling his warm breath hit your ear like dry ice. There was nothing nice about what he was saying it was cruel a cruel promise that he would fuck you so good you'd question if you've ever actually had sex before. Moisture pooled in between your legs at the thought of it.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You want me to show them how good of a slut you are huh?” He asked as his finger circled your clit and her and kneeled on the beige carpet floors bringing you down with him bending you over doggy style. You pressed your hands against that cold glass and moaned,

"Yes, Mr. O'Hara, show them all how good I am for you,"

. . .

As all the students filed into the class, you couldn't help but notice that your name was number one on the end-of-trimester grades list. So much for all that, 'I'll lose my job' crap. Besides there's nothing Miguel wouldn't do after a fuck like that.

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goodomensafterdark · 9 months ago

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Writers Guild Presents - Tethered - Ch 7 - Memories

Big thank you to @gleafer for accepting to let me use this piece as illustration to this chapter! Go support her on Patreon -we promise that your loins will catch on FIRE ;)

Written by NegotiationReal6508 on our subreddit!

Chapter 7 of work in progress

TW/CW: Angst, Discussion of attempted suicide, implied character death, panic attack, some light smut.

Summary:

Crowley wakes up in a mental hospital with no memory of how he got there. Without his demonic powers, neither the doctors, nor the people who claim to be his family will believe he is who he says he is. With the evidence against him mounting, his only lifeline to the real world is a cryptic note left by an unseen messenger. The longer he stays in this hospital, the harder it becomes to recall for sure, is Crowley really a demon of Hell? Or has his entire existence been nothing more than a delusion conjured by a grieving mind?

Excerpt:

Crowley stood in a noisy airport at the arrivals gate holding a bouquet of red roses, fidgeting nervously. All of his usual laidback swagger was buried under a blanket of anxiety, his spine was a solid metal rod. He was always a little bouncy when Aziraphale came to visit, but this time was different. Crowley hopped his feet up and down like the floor was burning hot sand. He juggled the little box in his jacket pocket as he stared at the sliding glass doors, willing the familiar head of blond hair to appear through them. Were the roses too cliché? Maybe he should have gotten the peonies instead. Too late now.

“There, I see him.” Crowley turned to the young man beside him. “Are you recording?”

“Yeah, it's on,” said Adam.

“Right, here he comes.” Crowley shook out his shoulders and trilled his lips. He knew he looked ridiculous, but it was an airport; no one ever looked their best at an airport. He moved towards the beacon that was Aziraphale’s gleaming smile. His heart thudded like hoofbeats in his chest. Breathe, he reminded himself. Breathing and walking, those were the two main requirements at the moment. He had no idea what his facial expression was, he just hoped he was smiling too. God, Aziraphale was so gorgeous, even after eight hours on a plane. How was that even possible?

“Hello, my darling!” Aziraphale greeted him.

“Hi,” said Crowley, because that was about as eloquent as he could manage. He unceremoniously handed the bouquet to Aziraphale.

“Oh my!” Aziraphale chuckled. “Flowers? What's the occasion?”

And there was Crowley’s opening. Aziraphale was reaching out his arms for an embrace but Crowley needed to do what he came to do first. He bent down on one knee, and pulled the little box from his pocket.

Continue reading on AO3

Or start from chapter 1 - Dies Lunae

Special thanks to my beautiful betas: u/KotiasCamorra, u/Paperclip_Ninja

#good omens after dark #goad #good omens #good omens fanfic #writers of after dark #writers guild presents #good omens fanart #artists of after dark

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magnificentstrawberryomen · 2 months ago

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halloween party (noah sebastian x reader)

18+, mdni, nsfw, Ghostface and Halloween-themed

It is October 31st, meaning it is both Halloween and my room mate Noah’s birthday. Every year we celebrate it at the same time, along with me, the rest of the band and some other friends and crew-members.

I start to get ready, and I had decided I wanted to be an attractive vampire this year for Halloween. I wear a fancy white blouse with a black leather corset on top, with rose detailed designs on it, making it look chic like and perfect for the costume. Underneath that I wear a short leather skirt, black thin tights and long, warm black socks for over my matching leather boots, detailed with spikes and chains. My black hair is styled a bit messy and my make up is dark with red, matching with the blood colored lipstick on my lips, that I smug a bit on the edges. When I look at the reflection of the mirror, I look satisfied and am ready for the party.

When I leave my room to head downstairs, I hear Noah's door open and close, making me smile in excitement.

“Hey birthday guy—“

I want to greet him, but as soon as I see what he is dressed up this year, which is Ghostface, I am stuck in my tracks. My lips part as I slightly swallow, my eyes taking in Noah, feeling my cheeks slowly flush. No way he is dressed up as Ghostface, my all time favorite horror character, someone I secretly swoon about sometimes, since I might… have a thing for masks.

Noah clearly notices me eyeing him up and down, as he then amusingly asks, “Like what you see, y/n?” His voice is a bit muffled by the mask.

“Eh, yeah, you—you look very cool as Ghostface,” I stumble, swallowing once again, quickly tucking strands of hair behind my ear as I then move past him, downstairs down to the kitchen, making me suddenly very aware how short my skirt is again as I move.

He follows me down to the kitchen, feeling his stare burning behind me, feeling like it's completely taking me in, making me heat up even more.

“When will the others arrive again?” I then ask once we are in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water out of our fridge and taking some quick gulps. Our kitchen and living room is decorated and in the Halloween spirit, something I loved to do for Noah since I love both decorating and Halloween.

Noah stands next to me, and I notice a slight smile present on his face under the mask by the bright lights in the kitchen, looking around at my decorations as well. “You have outdid yourself this year once again,” he comments, before remembering my question. “They should be here in like 20 minutes.”

I smile up at him, appreciating his compliment. “Thank you, always try my best.”

I turn to put the bottle back into the fridge, and when I then turn back around to Noah again, his mask is off, revealing his messy hair that is slightly pulled back, and in combination with the gloves and robe he is wearing I almost choke in my own breath.

“Jesus Christ,” I then mumble underneath my breath as a I move myself to the couch before I can embarass myself even more.

Noah and I have been roommates for a year now, being kind enough to rent and share his space with me, and if I’m being honest I have found him attractive from the start. But since we became good friends and he is mostly away on the road with his band, I decided to let the possibility of something more blooming between us go.

Noah lets out a low chuckle as he notices me looking flustered as he sits down right beside me, clearly being very much aware of the effect he has on me. “You okay?” he asks, a slight smile on his face as he tilts his head at me.

“Yeah,” I mumble, as I then watch him for a moment, my eyes ranking down to his costume again. “I can imagine that being warm inside,” I then nod to his outfit, flushing once again, so I quickly flick my eyes down to my lap. Damn, I hate being so flustered so fucking easily—I shouldn’t and I know that it’s wrong, but he looks even ten times hotter with that damn costume on.

He raises an eyebrow at my comment. “You’re not wrong,” he shrugs, before he lets his eyes move down to my outfit as well.

“I can imagine yours is a bit heavy as well,” he then comments, his eyes raking over my corset.

“Oh, it's okay,” I shrug with a sheepish smile, looking down at my white blouse and corset on top. “There’s a chance that I’ll take the blouse from underneath the corset off later this evening though, since the house will be pretty crowded and stuff.”

Noah nods slowly at my statement, the image seeming to flash before his eyes for a moment. “Maybe I should take my robe off for the same reason,” he then jokingly comments, winking in my direction, before he gets up from the couch again, heading to the kitchen to get himself something to drink.

Oh, you definitely should, I mentally think to myself, feeling heated by his wink, and then quickly shake the thought away in embarrassment.

Twenty minutes later, Noah’s friends and band members arrive, all wishing him a happy birthday and some of my friends join us later. Even though Noah insisted that he did not want some special moment with a cake and candles he had to blow out, we of course did exactly that, and even though he rolled his eyes and pretended to be grumpy with his arms crossed in front of his chest, I could tell by the sparkle in his eyes that he secretly enjoyed it.

Later that evening, I’m sitting on the couch talking with some friends, laughing and drinking, and I feel Noah stealing some glances from me sometimes, making me blush and I stare back whenever I have the confidence. Now he just smugly smiles a bit, leaning against the counter with his Ghostmask off again, gloves wrapped around his beer, and my mind already goes to the most unholiest things so quickly—how the cold of the leather gloves would feel around my throat for example—

I clear my throat and quickly shake the thoughts away, trying to concentrate on the conversation with my friends again, mentally slapping myself against the head. I'm the worst.

But then, I feel someone sitting next to me, and almost jump when it's Noah, looking at me with an amused expression and some glint in his eyes that I can’t quite unravel yet.

“Noah,” I smile, “hi.”

He lifts his beer at me in a greeting gesture before smirking and turning his full attention to me. “How are you enjoying the party, Little Vampire?” he asks, coming up with a nickname right there on the spot, making me both blush in amusement and flattery.

He then leans back into the couch with a slight grin, before taking a sip from his drink. “Nice to see you didn’t cover your neck tonight.”

I can’t help but chuckle at his little joking comment. “Well, could say the same about the people around me, right? Need something to feed from after all,” I joke back.

He amusingly laughs at my remark, for sure noticing the redness once again spreading across my cheeks by the way his eyes seem to gleam even more.

Noah then leans in a little, making me let out an uncontrollable nervous breath, his eyes lingering on my lips for a moment before he looks into my eyes again, a mischievous glint now in his own dark ones.

“But have you found someone to feed of off yet? You’ve been eyeing me all night I’ve noticed.”

My eyes widen a little as he says that, my heart racing up a little, and I sheepishly smile at him.

“Have I? Oh—“

I blink as I don't know how to get the words out of my throat for a moment, and then proceed to quickly shake my head as my blush keeps spreading on my face, answering his question. “I have not found someone yet to feed, no—“

A smirk plays on Noah's lips as he notices my reaction, deciding to take it one step further. “Well you know… since it’s my birthday, I can give you a gift…” he then whispers into my ear.

Goosebumps appear on my skin as heat spreads now almost everywhere in my body at this point, and I slightly gasp at the feeling of one of his leather gloves then sliding up on my thigh.

“Aren’t people supposed to give you a gift when its their birthday?” I then answer back, looking at him through my lashes, the feeling of him squeezing the flesh of my thigh as well already unraveling so much inside of me already.

He lets out a playful hum, letting his hand travel further up now to my hip. He leans even more forward, his dark brown eyes trained on my lips again first before looking back into my eyes.

Then to my surprise he brushes his lips past my ear, his breath grazing my skin, making me hold my own. “Well… my birthday wish from you is to give me what you want most.”

A shaky breath escapes from my with red, blood colored painted lips, and I slightly turn my head to his face so our noses slightly brush against each other, faces dangerously close, making me able to feel his soft breathing through his nose brushing against my face.

I decide its now or never, wanting to take this chance, wanting him.

“How about you help a helpless vampire out and be my victim for tonight?” I whisper back, smiling slightly.

A slight grin forms on Noah's face as he hears my request. Leaning back a little he locks eyes with me for a moment before standing up, holding out his hand. “Follow me.”

With both nerves and excitement I take his hand, letting him pull me along towards the staircase that leads up to our apartments bedrooms, my heart pounding in my chest as we walk up side by side.

My mind is already spinning with nerves, desire and excitement. As soon as we reach his bedroom, he closes it behind us once we are in, and when he places his Ghostface mask back on his face again my eyes slightly widen, and the arousal between my legs begins to spread. Oh, he knows what he’s doing.

Then, Noah grabs me and pins me against his door, his hands resting behind me on each side of my body. He tilts my head at him, the mask making him look somewhat scary and yet mysterious—mysterious enough for me to become more flustered than ever. His eyes wander down to my lips, seeing the need to press them against mine but he clearly wants the game to continue first, just a little bit longer—by sliding his knee up between my legs, resting between my thighs.

I whimper as he does that, heart racing even more, and I need to hold onto his biceps for support because of the heat already being spread between my thighs, making me light headed with desire—and of course his biceps feel hard and trained, just like they normally already look like, and it makes me ache for him even more.

Noah smirks at the feeling of me holding onto him. “Already so needy and wanting for me,” he says into my ear, his hands sliding down my sides, feeling the lace of my corset underneath his fingers. He presses up against me with his knee to gain a little bit more friction against my core, making me let out another gasp.

“Noah,” I can’t help but gasp out his name, making me flush a little.

He leans his face against my neck, slowly taking off his mask again to let his lips hovering over my skin, his breath grazing the area gently, before pressing a small peck to the skin. “I can only imagine the sounds I can get out of you tonight.”

His teeth tug at my earlobe, before moving down towards my jawline, placing another kiss there. I groan, then wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him even more against me, making me able to feel his excitement growing, and it makes everything inside of me flush and heat up, and the desire for him grow. The thought that I’m the one that makes him feel this needy, makes me feel even more worked up.

Noah's hips push against mine, his head now buried in my neck, kissing the skin, even teasingly biting the skin at various places, not hard enough to cause any real harm, but enough to cause red marks that’ll stay for a while.

“Aren’t I the vampire here though?” I can’t help but teasingly grin at that.

Pulling his face out from my neck he looks into my eyes, the corners of his lips pulling up into a smirk as I say that. “I think you’re forgetting that tonight is my birthday, not yours, little vampire, and I get to do what I want… and right now, all I want is you.” He leans in towards my face, his lips just inches away from mine—so close, yet so far.

“And this is only the beginning of your gift to me.”

My doe eyes widen as I look up to him, eager and desperate, and I still stubbornly lean to his neck despite his words, placing a few kisses before marking some bits of his skin. I feel him shiver underneath my touch, a low groan escaping his lips, making my heart beat even faster.

When I pull back with a smug smile, I say, “Vampires still need to be fed, birthday or not.”

He takes a small step back from me, his dark eyes raking over my body slowly, a smirk creeping on his face. “Take off the corset.”

The fast beating of my heart goes up to the pulse of my neck as he asks me that, a confirmation of where I hoped this night between us would go, and I quickly nod as I then take off the corset, leaving me in just my thin white blouse, revealing the outline of my chest, and a fire builds up in the pit of my stomach by the way he watches my every move.

Noah then takes a slow step towards me, placing his hands on my hips and pulling me close towards him, hips rubbing against mine again. I start to breathe heavily, hands trembling as I feel nervous yet excited.

Lifting my chin, he presses kisses to my jawline again, nipping at the skin here and there as well and it makes me softly moan, the other hand slowly moving up to my chest, as it goes underneath the fabric of my blouse. I enjoy the feeling of his warm, large hand there, making a ragged breath escape from my lips.

His fingers graze across my collarbone, feeling my skin underneath, and the touch is so light, almost like a feather is touching me. His lips trace up from my neck to my ear, nibbling on my earlobe gently again. Then, he takes a step back, my eyes locked with his, before he speaks.

“Get on the bed, now.”

I eagerly nod at him, walking towards his bed, sitting down at it and already taking and kicking off my own boots without him having to ask me to, since I’m getting desperate and needy for him by the minute—I’ve fantasized about a moment like this for embarrassingly too long, and now that it’s finally happening I want it now.

Noah then watches me lay down on his bed, eyes raking over my frame, taking in what was going to be his gift for tonight. He walks over to me before straddling my hips, taking his gloves off with his teeth before letting them fall onto the ground. The sight of him doing that makes my eyes nearly pop out, it being one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.

Leaning down, Noah places teasing kisses on my cheek, then jaw, and slowly moving down to my neck again, his hands working on unbuttoning my blouse. His lips kiss every little part of exposed skin down from my neck, to my collarbones and then down to my chest, making me whimper and shift my hips against the mattress in anticipation—and I already feel like I'm getting taken to cloud nine.

He lets his tongue run across my skin, tasting me as he unbuttons the last few buttons of my blouse, making me gasp. He pushes the fabric off my arms and down onto the floor, then pulling back, looking down and taking in the sight of my skin and exposed chest. He licks his lips as his hands glide up to my sides, caressing the soft skin.

“So, so gorgeous,” he whispers in the dark, almost more towards himself it seems, his eyes drifting back up to meet mine after.

It feels like I’m exploding with fuel and desire inside, being lit up with every touch and look of him, making my heart hammer inside of my chest from nerves but especially excitement. My hips start to grind against his a bit, making me able to press a little against his bulge, and I have to bite back a amused smile by that, as I feel myself drooling between my legs by the feeling at the same time.

A low groan escapes Noah's lips as he looks back down between the both of us, getting stimulated by my movements. His lips then find my jaw again, teeth scraping the skin before pulling back to look into my eyes. He gives me a dark, smug look before he stands up from the bed, his hands slowly taking off his robe and the long sleeved shirt he wears underneath, letting it slide down his body as it falls to the ground by his feet. “Tell me how much you want me, sweetheart, so I can give you everything and more.”

And Jesus fucking Christ—he’s a sight, a goddamn hot, tattooed and worked out sight as I let my eyes roam over his exposed chest, flushing madly by it

“I want you,” I whisper as my eyes go back to his own darkened ones again, “for so long. Even more… like this.”

His lips curve into a smile as he slowly steps back towards me again, moving his hands down to his pants, slowly unbuckling the belt while looking into my eyes that slightly widen in anticipation. “How long have you waited for this?”

“Too long to admit,” I mumble, my eyes going down to his belt. “It's embarrassing.”

Noah slides his pants down his legs along with his underwear, letting them fall to the floor as well before slowly climbing on the bed, hovering over me once again, making my heart rate rise madly. His hands slide down my body, down to my skirt, his fingers hooking into them as I continue to look at him.

“It’s okay, I have too. And I know how needy you are right now, sweetheart.” He kisses my jawline, hands slowly pulling my skirt down my body, leaving me in only my panties.

“You–really?” I stumble as I hear his words, and all the fire in me burns up again, making me need him so badly, and wanting him, craving him, more than ever before.

One of his hands caresses my thigh, feeling the soft skin underneath his lean fingers, before slowly gliding up to my covered center. He watches his hand as it moves slowly over my panties, his fingers grazing my core, applying a teasing but light pressure, making me squirm.

“Of course,” he says in response, a devilish grin on his face, eyes looking down at where his hand is touching, and God, it's another hot sight. His other hand goes to remove the rings he wears on his fingers, the chunky silver ones I've grown to love so much, and I get more needy for him by the minute, making my body tremble with eagerness.

I look down at our naked bodies, making me heavily flush again but also dampen with even more in anticipation. Once his rings have made their way onto the nightstand he leans down towards my ear again. His lips ghost over the skin of my neck, trailing down as he speaks, “Are you sure you’re ready to be mine?... To let me take you in every way possible? To make you completely mine?”

He nips at the flesh before pulling back a little to look into my eyes. I whimper desperately at his words, chest rising up and down heavily, my arms already wrapping around his neck.

“Yes,” I breathe out in response, my eyes then looking at his lips.

Noah's right hand cups my cheek, gently caressing the skin with his thumb, and then finally pressing a soft kiss to my lips—it’s slow, passionate, and full of desire. Soon, his tongue grazes my lower lip, teasingly asking for entrance which I instantly give him, before moving his other hand to my waist and starting to slide my panties down my legs, all while never breaking the kiss.

I moan deeply in our kiss, my legs already slowly opening for him in pure eagerness as he then throws my panties away once they are fully down. His tongue slips into my mouth, swirling with mine as he groans against my mouth, the taste of him sweet and heavenly.

Noah's hands then slide across my thighs, his teeth grazing my bottom lip as he pulls it back for a second to look at me, before leaning down and kissing me once more, and God, it kills me and makes my anticipation and need for him grow even more and more. His right hand slides up my thigh, his fingers feeling the warmth of my center before rubbing against it gently.

My back arches slightly, eyes squeezing shut by the pleasure, and my jaw drops as sounds of pleasure begin to escape me. Noah can't seem to help but moan into my mouth in response, it makes him feel how badly I need him. He breaks the kiss and moves down to my jawline, then slowly down to my neck, leaving a few bruising bites behind, and I know they'll show tomorrow when I get up.

My panting and moaning get heavier and heavier with the more pleasure he gives me, his movements teasing at first, but then speeding up—leaving me a trembling mess. I can feel myself getting close, and Noah is being able to know by my desperate sounds and the way I move underneath him.

His lips pull away from my neck again, and he slowly slides down my body, placing kisses against my skin as he goes, his lips coming to rest at my chest. His left hand moves up my side towards my arm, pinning it down against the bed, before doing the same with the other arm. And now he has me underneath him, completely at his mercy, making my heart speeding up even more, with lips parted as I look at him with anticipation, as I'm about to get closer and closer to the edge.

Noah continues to work his fingers against my core, lips kissing all the way down my chest and then towards the inside of my thigh, leaving a faint trail of marks behind as he goes. His teeth graze the skin while his dark, lustful eyes never leave mine.

“Please,” I then breathe out as his mouth goes closer to my center, “I need you there—”

He listens to my pleas as a grin forms across his face. “Such a needy thing you are,” he chuckles softly against my sensitive skin. His eyes look back up to mine before looking at my aching core, making me shift even more in need.

“But, I will give you what you desire,” he then hums. His tongue flicks out, teasingly licking a slow, but broad trace, making me sharply inhale.

”Fuck,” I heavily pant out, making my back arch even more. I feel him smirk as my hips buck against his mouth as he hears the sounds of me falling apart beneath him. The hand that was holding my arm down moves up towards my head, gently lacing his fingers into my hair before pulling it, and he looks up again at me.

“Be good and take it,” he then commands with a low voice, it being enough to make me moan out loud again.

“I’ll take it,” I pant in response, “fuck, I’ll take it all—”

Noah hums against my core, slightly vibrating against me, driving me crazy. He then looks up at me through his lashes, watching my face contort and twitch in pleasure. His left hand then moves to the desk next to his bed again, taking one of the gloves off it and sliding it on again, making my eyes widen. Oh god—he has definitely noticed what those gloves did to me the whole evening.

I see him having to hold back a grin at my reaction, confirming that. “Look at you baby, already looking wrecked,” he teases, his eyes and lips leaving my enter to look up at me, his gloved hand now moving down to my core, slowly rubbing me, and I gasp and squeeze my eyes shut at the feeling of the leather against me.

“Oh God Noah,” I choke out, feeling myself getting even closer to the edge, and his lips curve into a mischievous grin.

“And now look at you, begging me already,” he taunts after a dark, amused chuckle follows. “I’ll give you what you want, darling, but only if you say my name. That’s the only way you’ll get what you need.”

“Noah,” I desperately choke out, my voice sounding needy, practically shaking as I say his name, and he chuckles softly at how vulnerable and exposed I am right now. “I’m so close, please—“

“That’s my pretty thing,” Noah hums, his lips going back to my aching center, continuing to devour me with his tongue, and I let out the most desperate sounds, and soon enough I grab and pull his hair, hitting my edge, hard and with trembling legs he needs to hold with both his hands.

The sounds I'm making are almost loud enough for the others, and the realization makes my climax feel even more pleasurable and hot to me. Noah pulls away from my center, looking at me, taking in my dazed expression.

“What a pretty thing you are, y/n,” he praises me as he crawls over and hovers over me again.

I blush yet roll my eyes at the same time, chuckling lightly. “Yeah yeah,” I playfully respond as I swat his chest, and he joins my laughter.

“Now roll over for me, and make me wish you an even better happy birthday.”

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sweetbitterbitten · 2 years ago

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@threecardtrick continued from here

she plucks roughened weeds of their spoils with as much ruthless rivalry as would one defeathering a defeated chicken in county fair competitions; a rip in her grip and then deposited without care or backward glance into a pitch black pot. she stirs one handed, other on her hip, turned catty-corner to his inquiry, interest momentarily piqued. “i can’t say as i have...would this red then be wreathed into a gown of perpetual wear? molded to my every curve and cut as bright as rubies spun upon a line slick as spider’s silk?” there is no reason she can see why one bliss should not bleed into another.

#threecardtrick #possible character ;; rose red

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rainy-day-gracie · 4 months ago

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- wedding night (1) -

A Venus & Mars mini series

pairing: general marcus acacius x virgin!wife!reader

content warning(s); dual pov, arranged marriage, implied age gap but nothing specific, period typical misogyny (Ancient Rome), mentions of violence/warfare, mention (1) of sexual violence (not against reader), mentions of pregnancy, attempted bedding ceremony, reader has hair that can be pinned back, steamy kisses, crazy amounts of sexual tension, discussions of consent because consent is sexy mandatory, virgin!reader, SOFTTTTT marcus acacius, romantic and intimate as hell, grievous historical inaccuracy because it's fucking fanfiction, canon divergent because duh

a/n: this has been living in my head for weeks now, along with every new photo we get of general marcus acacius because of course. this can be read as a prequel to bloodlust, or read entirely on its own. the reader insert is written as the same character in each fic.

this will be part 1 of the wedding night, and part 2 will include smut :)

---

You considered bolting as the sun rose on the morning of your wedding day. Stealing one of the nobleman's horses, putting as many miles as you could between yourself and the General's country house.

But, from what you've heard about the General, there would not be a corner of the earth that he would not find you in.

Your palms were clammy with sweat as the handmaidens pinned your hair back into a style of a bride. You wondered how they couldn't possibly hear the quick, panicky beating of your heart as each moment brought you closer to what you considered a life sentence.

General Marcus Acacius is venerated like a god in Rome, and anywhere else. Men boast about his wartime accomplishments as if they were their own, and ladies whisper about his scarred face like they would a demon within the walls.

So many rumors swirling around the Emperor's most esteemed general.

His hands were permanently stained red with blood, he burns the heads of his enemies in sacrifice to the gods, he kills men with icy calculation, takes women with fiery passion.

You could only imagine what kind of monster was waiting for you at the altar.

---

Marcus was in no good spirits on the day of his wedding, the marriage forced on him almost as much as it was forced on his...

Gods above, his bride.

The idea of having a bride was almost as foreign as you yourself were, since never once had Marcus even considered marrying anyone. With all the bloodshed and near-death experiences, he never exactly considered himself a man that was meant to be a husband. Or a father, for that matter.

Marcus tried not to shudder at the end of the aisle as the chorus began singing, sounding all to close to a death march.

At the sound of the choir, you entered into the wedding hall, for all gods and men to see.

His bride.

The world seemed to be brighter, the flowers bloomed more beautiful, and Marcus' vision turned clearer as you stepped into his sight.

For a moment, he forgot all about the blood of men on his hands. The shame that burdened him was cast off. Maybe he wasn't completely condemned to the Underworld.

The very possibility of you being his bringing him more relief than any wine or fine lady. The possibility of you being in his life was... redeeming. Redefining. Remaking.

One look, and he made a vow, but not to you. To himself.

If any harm were to come to you, he would unleash the fury of the gods upon them. He would protect you to the end of his days. Honor you, and serve you, however you may wish.

---

Fear coated your every nerve as you beheld your soon-to-be husband.

Nothing could have prepared you for just how mighty General Acacius was. Tan, broad, and mighty, dressed in fine white robes similar to yours. His bare hands were strong, made for swinging axes, throwing punches, and taking what he wanted. At the altar, he seemed to be near brooding, speaking his vows quietly, his voice like a roll of thunder.

You managed to keep your voice steady while you spoke your vows, but there was nothing you could do to keep your hands from shaking as the priest brought out the rings.

The general reached for your hand, and you were unable to keep from trembling.

His touch was warm on your skin, his calloused fingers surprisingly gentle as he slid the gold wedding band onto your finger. You found the nerve to meet his brown eyes, finding something utterly unreadable as he held your gaze. Could it be... fondness?

Gods, he was beautiful.

His touch steadied you, though you still exchanged rings with a thundering heart.

"In the sight of Gods and men, you are now Husband and Wife. You may kiss your bride, General."

The priest's words echoed in your head.

Husband and Wife.

The general leaned forward, an unspoken question in his warm eyes.

Swallowing, you gave a near imperceptible nod.

For such a harsh man, such a dominating man, his kiss was utterly... soft. Tender. Almost coaxing.

After a moment, he pulled away first, and you could've sworn he lingered, cherishing the air between you... before turned to the cheering wedding party.

In an instant, he changed, switching from the gentle kiss of a lover to a commanding force, a man that drinks in praise like fine wine.

A mighty man, indeed.

---

Marcus tried his best to not feel too wounded that his new wife was completely terrified of him.

He felt the thundering pulse in your hand as he slid that ring on, and he wondered if you saw the wedding band as a chain, a set of shackles. It's all too true for other women in Rome.

You barely spoke to him during the wedding feast, only giving small nods and forced smiles in between sips of wine. He had a good feeling you were resisting the urge to swallow it down in one gulp.

Marcus couldn’t help but study you— at first innocently, taking in the curve of your lips, the shine of your eyes, the polite smile you gave when someone offered congratulations.

Damn his dirty mind. As the night went on, and the celebrations continued beyond what he would’ve liked, he tried, and failed, not to eye your body as a means of distraction from the rowdy feast.

It started with your neck. He traced the slope of it with his eyes, marking every freckle and curve. He prayed to all the gods that you would want him to leave his marks on you.

Downward, he peeked slightly at your breasts whilst cursing himself. Of course, they appeared perfect beneath your wedding stola, and he wondered what manner of sounds you would make when he took them into his hands, into his mouth.

And then… Gods, those hips—

“Time for the bedding ceremony!” Emperor Geta jeered, pulling you from your seat with a firm jerk of your elbow. His eyes were greedy, scheming. “Let us see what is underneath that—“

Your face flushed with either embarrassment or fear or both. And that was all Marcus needed to see.

“There will be no bedding ceremony.”

Marcus lowered his voice to a deep warning, the kind that has sent men running for their lives.

Geta scoffed, still holding to your elbow. “It’s a wedding, Acacius, it’s your wedding. Don’t you want to show off the prize of your latest conquest? Distribute the winnings? Strip down that—“

Marcus stood, towering several inches over Geta’s slimy face. “I said… there will be no bedding ceremony.”

Geta kept his hands on you, and Marcus’s vision tinged with red hot fury.

His voice was a rumble, a threat in itself. “It’s my wedding, is it not? And I say there will be no bedding ceremony.”

People were watching now, the feast gone silent at this standoff.

Marcus knew how to pick his battles, cut his losses. But when staring down Geta, the most powerful man in the empire, he realized that for you, he would pick every single one if it meant he kept you safe.

The moments that passed were crackling, the tension between the two men sucking all the air from the celebratory hall.

Geta saw something in Marcus’s unyielding gaze, something that told him he would not win this fight, and decided the bedding ceremony wasn’t worth the scrutiny.

As the Emperor walked away, Marcus took your hand, and led you to your marriage bed.

—

You couldn’t find the words.

The general nearly trembled in rage on the walk to the bedchambers, but still, he maintained that odd gentleness, holding your hand as if it were the most delicate thing in the world.

Servants opened the grand doors as you entered, showing a large room with a massive four poster bed and elegant tapestries lining the walls—

Then the doors shut. And you were left alone with the legendary, bloodletting general.

And you still couldn’t find the damn words.

You knew what came next. The husband will take what is now his.

In this case, you expected your husband to take you in the same way he took lands for the empire— violently, mercilessly, with the intention of forging new legacy, through a son of Rome.

“Before you ask, my General, I wish to assure you that I am untouched,” you blurted, quoting what your mother taught you to say before you were to be… intimate. “I am pure, though I can only hope to be worthy—“

“Darling wife,” the general said quietly, so different from the commanding force from the feast. He held your hands in his, leaning down and kissing your knuckles in reverence.

You went silent, shocked at the soft fondness in his tone.

He peered at you with curiosity, and almost amusement. “The only thing I wish from you is for you to call me by my name, not title. No general, no lord, but my name. I hear it so little nowadays that I will look forward to hearing it from your lips.”

“As you wish… Marcus,” you breathed, eyes locked on his.

Marcus let out a little sigh, like he was relieved. “It’s much prettier when you say it.”

You drop your head in bashfulness, more confused by the moment. The way he spoke so kindly, so fondly.

“You know what is meant to happen tonight?” Marcus asked, almost hesitantly. You nod, undeniable fear curling in your stomach. “I need you to understand something, my darling, so listen very carefully.”

He pulled you toward the bed, sitting you both down on the silken sheets. His eyes on yours were discerning, and intent, like he was searching for something within your stare.

“I will never, ever, force myself upon you. Not in this life, or the next, or the next. I know what you might’ve heard about me, and much of it is true, but never would I take a woman without her permission. You belong to yourself, and if you never should like me in your bed, I will honor that to the end of my days."

You blinked at him in confusion. "So, you do not... you do not want me?"

Marcus exhaled sharply, looking down at your intwined hands. "That... that does not matter."

"Why not? A husband has the right to take what is his--"

"No man has any right to take a woman's body for himself, husband or not. What... what do you think is to happen tonight?"

Heat rises to your face, embarrassed at the question. By the look on his face, he was embarrassed, too.

"I don't... I don't know how it works, but some of the other wives at court say that the consummation of marriage is one of the more... painful duties of a wife. What you are meant to do to me... it's painful," you murmured, and quickly begin stammering. "B-but is it a great honor to serve you, my--"

"May I kiss you, darling?"

Some candles had been left burning, illuminating him in a warm glow. Marcus's eyes were soft, a rich, chocolate brown in the light of your bedroom, and something about them made your core flutter like one of the candles.

"Yes... yes, please."

Marcus smiled softly, and moved his hands to the sides of your neck. They were scarred, and calloused... and so warm.

His lips met yours almost hesitantly, like he was holding himself back. They were tender, tasting of sweet wine. Fingers curled lightly into your pinned hair, pulling you closer as his chest pressed against yours.

You moved your mouth with his, suddenly feeling the need for... more. You didn't know what, but you just knew you needed it.

His tongue slipped against yours, and the groan that left his throat left your pussy throbbing.

"Marcus--" you gasped, losing your breath as his lips traveled down to your neck. You could've sworn he moaned in response, sucking at your pulse point, leaving it a delicious shade of red--

"Do you want me to keep going?" He gruffed, trailing light kisses along your throat.

Oh, gods, how you wanted him to. "Yes, but..."

Marcus withdrew instantly at your seemed hesitation, pulling his mouth away but keeping his hands in your hair.

"I'm fearful," you admitted, holding his tunic to keep your hands from shaking with both desire and nerves. "Not of you, but... the rest of it."

Marcus nodded, swallowing. "We could continue kissing, if you like."

You laughed lightly, the nerves mellowing for a moment. "I'm not sure I'm prepared to have you in that way, but I know that I want to. I know that I... I want you."

Marcus's soft eyes shone with fondness, but had a wicked edge to them, like he was plotting something.

"I know I want you as well, darling. I promise, I will make sure you are prepared to have me... perhaps even over-prepared."

Your brows furrowed with confusion. "What do you mean?"

The general smiled. "I'll show you what I mean."

Part 2 here!

#marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius smut #general marcus acacius #general acacius #gladiator 2 fanfiction #gladiator 2 fic #marcus acacius x female reader #marcus acacius x y/n #marcus acacius fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction

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fandoms-x-reader · 7 months ago

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Flirting

Requested By: @midnightskyeneko

Headcannons

Summary: How the love interests flirt with you. ~Suggestive at times~ Bonus Characters: Solomon, Simeon, Diavolo

When it comes to Lucifer’s flirting style, there’s only one word to describe it - polite.

Given your past with Lucifer, he would prefer to take the more subtle approach to flirting. He would rather you not pick up on his signs of flirting than think he has pushed too far.

Lucifer will give you compliments in a respectful way. He will tell you that you look beautiful or he will commend you on how well you are doing in your academics.

That’s his version of flirting. He has a reputation to uphold after all. He can’t very well be as forthcoming as Asmo or as embarrassing as Mammon.

He feels the need to make his emotions known through traditional courtship. Dinner, flowers, Demonus, and such. He will pull out all of the stops to impress you and make his feelings known.

He appreciates it when you make an effort to let him know you share the feelings. Holding hands, pressing closer to him when it’s cold, or telling him how much you enjoy spending time with him. He’ll enjoy any type of affection, verbal or non-verbal.

The two of you were at a dance that was being held at Diavolo’s castle. It was a celebration of one of the many anniversaries the Devildom had.

You were dancing with Lucifer, one hand holding yours as the other rested on your waist. He pulled you close, taking in all of your features. Admiring how attractive you were.

Your scent intoxicated his senses as he tried to take in as much of you as he could. He was falling down a dangerous hole and he couldn’t stop himself from the temptation that overtook him. He was a demon, after all.

“Would you care to spend the rest of the night with me? Perhaps ending in my bedroom?” Lucifer asked with a smile as his black and red eyes looked deep into yours,

Lucifer’s candor took you by surprise and you pressed your cheek into his shoulder to hide the intense blush that rose to your cheeks. “Don’t tease me,” you told him as you did your best to hide from him.

Lucifer smirked at your expression. He enjoyed the feeling of you pressed against him, doing your best to hide the emotions that were trying desperately to escape.

He held you close before replying, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Mammon is an absolute mess whenever you flirt with him. He does not handle it well. It can be something as simple as giving him a compliment to something more daring like thanking him with a kiss on the cheek. It didn’t matter how you flirted, it always elicited the same reaction from Mammon.

It would start with blushing, as he became a stuttering mess. Then once the initial shock passed, he would follow up by saying something like, “Of course you would think that about the Great Mammon.” Or, “Of course you’d want to kiss me on the cheek.” And then a very adamant denial of anything ever happening would top it all off.

It was an adorable sight watching Mammon get flustered by the smallest things you do. And, it only gave you motivation to do them more often.

Mammon would be sitting across the class from you, watching as you would gently play with your hair. He wondered if you knew how cute you looked when you did that. The second you caught him staring, you flashed him a confident smile. Mammon would immediately turn away, blushing.

If you send him a wink as well, he’ll blush twice as hard.

He invited you over for a movie night and suggested a horror movie - even though he hates them. You made sure to sit as close to him as possible. “So you can protect me,” you defended and Mammon melted.

“Of course you’d want the Great Mammon to protect ya.” You swore he said some version of that same line more than he said anything else.

Still, you couldn’t help but notice the way his arms fell around you anyway. His cheeks were stained pink for the first few minutes, but when he realized you were okay with his affections, he eventually relaxed.

Besides, it was just the two of you there so no one would make fun of him or tease him about this moment later.

You were getting a bit tired after a while and Mammon took notice. “Do you want to go to sleep?” Mammon asked you, pausing the movie to talk to you.

You shook your head before replying, “I don’t feel like going back to my room yet.” You were exhausted and the last thing you wanted to do was get up and leave.

“You could spend the night with me,” Mammon suggested, his eyes lighting up at the idea. And although he had pure intentions, the way he spoke the sentence came off more suggestive than he meant it.

Mammon’s eyes widened as he realized the mistake in interpretation and he opened his mouth to come up with a defense but stopped when he noticed the way you were avoiding his gaze as your cheeks were red.

Mammon had never seen this side of you. He was usually the one that looked like this while you sat across from him with a proud smile.

Now, he understood why. He was savoring every moment of your flustered reaction. Did the idea of staying with him make you that excited?

Mammon was now determined to be a bit more forward with you. He wanted to see you blushing at the things he said more often. But, only when the two of you were alone. He couldn’t let his brothers see how adorable you were when you were like this.

Levi fits in his own category when it comes to flirting.

He’s not particularly good at it, mostly because his words are a mix of jumbled phrases. And yet, his sincerity in the feelings he’s trying to get across is so endearing that his charm somehow ends up coming off anyway.

He’s pretty shy when you are flirting with him. He’s so used to thinking negative thoughts about himself that when you compliment him it comes as a shock. He’s not quite sure how to react; but, it’s mostly a combination of stuttering or blushing.

Levi tries to take the subtle approach to flirting back with you. He’ll compliment your skills in a game or tell you that you remind him of one of his favorite anime characters.

He’ll get more confident as time passes, getting a bit more straightforward with his actions and words. He wants you to feel as flustered as you make him.

He went to Asmo for advice on this. Asmo is the Avatar of Lust, so he could help him with his love life right? Of course, he also made Asmo swear to not tell any of their other brothers.

Asmo suggested that Levi make a more intimate move on you to get you to understand his feelings for you. And, as an otaku there was one thing in particular that came into his mind. It may be bold, but if it got his feelings across, then he was willing to try it.

You were in his room, standing near the wall as you started looking through some games to find one for the two of you to play.

Levi took a deep breath. It was now or never.

In a instant, Levi moved over to you and had you pushed up against the wall, his hand slamming against it next to your head.

You let out a gasp as your cheeks immediately turned red. Levi did his best to remain confident. He had seen kabedon in anime. He read about it in manga. But, doing it in real life was different.

“L-Levi,” you stuttered out, wanting to hide your flustered expression, but he was too close to turn away.

Then tension was thick between the two of you as Levi stared into your eyes.

“Ooh, yes! That was the perfect gesture, Levi!” Asmo squealed and you both immediately looked over at him. How did he get in?!

“Ah! Asmo, get out!” Levi yelled, backing away from you quickly. “But it was just getting good!” Asmo pouted.

You moved away from the wall, trying to regain your composure. You did not expect that from Levi.

Levi was nervous and blushing but he felt accomplished in his goal.

In regards to the five flirting styles, Satan is a sincere flirt.

He may not make as many flirtatious compliments or actions as some of his other brothers would. Asmo.

But, that doesn’t mean he isn’t trying just as hard.

He believes in flirting through building your connection. He wants to get to know you.

He’ll take you somewhere quiet and intimate so that he can ask you questions. What genre of books do you like to read? What are your hobbies? Where do you like to go in your free time?

He prefers intimate actions over quick and playful ones.

You would reach for a book on the top shelf of the library. You were just a bit short, having to stand on your tiptoes to reach it and Satan would notice your struggle.

He would come up behind you, one hand gently resting respectfully on the small of your back while the other grabs the book for you.

“Is this the one you wanted?” he asked, handing you the book. You would smile up at him and nod your head. Your body was pressed against his as you told him, “Thanks, Satan.”

That was the end of the interaction. Short and sweet.

The interaction may not have lasted for long, but he knew it was only a matter of time before it happened again. The two of you had a habit of longing looks and lingering touches.

You were at the cafe with Satan, sitting next to him at a table as you waited for your drinks to be made.

He was helping you study for a particular class but he kept losing focus.

Your eyes were trained on the pages in front of you as your eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration.

And while you were concentrated on the work, Satan was concentrated on you, noticing an eyelash that had fallen on your cheek.

He debated just saying something, but ultimately decided on gently rubbing his thumb over your cheek to remove it.

You blushed slightly and stared at Satan as he raised his hand for you to see the eyelash that was resting on his thumb. “Humans believe in wishing upon a fallen eyelash, right?” Satan asked.

You nodded your head and he brought his hand closer, allowing you to make a wish. You closed your eyes, stating a wish in your mind, and then gently blowing the eyelash off Satan’s finger.

When you opened your eyes, Satan was smiling at you. His eyes were full of love as he told you, “I made a wish too.”

You raised an eyebrow and he added, “I wished for a kiss.” You immediately turned away from Satan, smiling as your cheeks felt hot. “Satan,” you said with a small chuckle, as you tried to regain your composure.

He had heard that you weren’t supposed to tell other people your wish. If you did, it wouldn’t come true. So, maybe his wish wouldn’t come true because he voiced it. He was okay with that. It was worth it enough to see the way you got flustered.

He hoped to make you flustered more often. He would be pulling out all of the cheesy tricks he’s read about in his books to get you to smile and blush at him again.

Asmo is obviously a very flirty person in general. He loves giving compliments almost as much as he loves receiving them.

And he especially loves it every single time you compliment him. He always wants more. Tell him his hair is on point. Tell him his outfit is very trendy. Tell him that his beauty compares to no one. It feeds his ego.

He’ll always have his own compliment or flirty remark to come back with though.

“Thanks, Y/N, but look at you.” Asmo only used his sing-song voice to heavily emphasize something, and when it came to complimenting you, he always made sure to emphasize that point.

The two of you got so comfortable with sending flirty comments back and forth, that it pretty much became second nature. It was completely shameless flirting. It didn’t matter who heard it.

To the brothers, the frequency of the flirting made it seem like you and Asmo were in a competition to see who could flirt the most. And if it was a competition, you and Asmo were tied and neither one of you was backing down anytime soon.

Asmo particularly liked it when the two of you were alone. The stolen glances and amorous statements that were made in secrecy, for only him to hear. They may have been small comments, nothing too serious, but it made him feel special.

“Your skin is so soft!” you complimented Asmo as you gently rubbed your finger over his cheek. You had just helped him take off a face mask and it left his skin completely smooth.

“I can’t wait to see what yours feels like!” he replied, switching positions so that he could help take yours off as well. His eyes traced every movement that his hands made as he made sure to get all of it off.

Asmo was amazed by how beautiful you were. His hand gently rested against your cheek, cupping it softly. The warm contact felt nice and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch.

“So?” you asked, looking into his eyes. Asmo pursed his lips for a moment, as he contemplated what to say.

“Your skin is really soft. But��I bet your lips are even softer,” he replied, leaning in dangerously close. His lips were mere inches away from yours as his eyes locked with yours again. “Should we find out?”

A blush immediately rose to your cheeks as you tore your gaze away from Asmo. “Stop it,” you said quietly, gently pushing him away.

Asmo wasn’t offended that you pushed him away. Instead, he was smiling at your flustered appearance.

“You look so cute when you blush!” Asmo said, making you blush even more. You normally didn’t have this reaction to Asmo and he adored it. He teased you about it a bit more before deciding to drop it. For now.

He now knew the trick to getting you to blush and you can be sure he’ll be using it every single chance he gets.

Beel isn’t big on using his words. So, when he flirts, he prefers to use physical touch or actions to convey his emotions.

He wasn’t the one to go to if you wanted a lovey dovey speech about yours and his relationship. But, if you wanted a hug, he gave the best ones. If you just wanted to be held, his arms were always available.

Beel was fine if you gave him a flirty comment or compliment. He may blush a little but he enjoyed being the target of your affections. As long as you followed it up with some form of physical contact.

The Devildom was having a food truck rally and Beel couldn’t be more excited. He invited you to come along with him. He wanted to try all of the different foods that were going to be offered and he wanted you to be his partner in crime.

You were the faithful accomplice, following Beel to each and every food truck that he wanted to try. Beel would smile as he offered to share each dish he got with you and in exchange, you would share what you got with him.

You finally made it to the last truck which happened to be a dessert truck. Beel looked at the menu, his eyes wide as he read the name of each item. You could tell that he couldn’t wait to get his hands on the sweet delicacies.

There was just one problem though.

A frown fell on Beel’s lips as he out-turned his pockets, realizing he didn’t bring enough Grimm. You gave him a small smile before offering to pay for dessert. You couldn’t let the Avatar of Gluttony leave without getting his fill of sweets.

Beel thanked you graciously before ordering everything he wanted. You ordered an ice cream and then joined Beel at the nearby table. You began eating your ice cream as Beel scarfed down the desserts he got.

When he was done, he looked at you and noticed that you had gotten a bit of ice cream on your cheek, near the corner of your lips.

Beel leaned in close, gently rubbing the ice cream off the corner of your lips with his thumb before licking it off. It looked too delicious to resist.

An intense blush rose to your cheeks at his actions and the two of you maintained eye contact. Noticing your reaction, Beel said, “Sorry, did you want that?”

You shook your head no and Beel smiled at you. “We should share food more often.”

You and Belphie had a very playful relationship.

One flirty comment here, and another cheeky touch there. Anyone who didn’t know you would swear the two of you were in a relationship.

And that was just the way Belphie wanted it. He loved it when people looked at the two of you like you were together. Because that meant there were less and less people who were looking at you like you were for the taking.

But, there was always one thing that bothered Belphie; and, it was the way you always seemed particularly unbothered. No matter how flirty he was with you, whether it be by words or touch, you seemed to reciprocate his comments and actions without a moment of hesitation.

Belphie wanted you to melt, he wanted your heart to skip a beat. He wanted to make you flustered. And it was his goal to do so.

Belphie had decided to take you to a movie. The two of you sat in the back of the theater. It was perfect, because it provided entertainment and the perfect lighting. So if Belphie needed to take a nap, he could do so without anyone else noticing.

But, he couldn’t fall asleep. He was too focused on you. You looked amazing in this lighting and he enjoyed watching your reactions to each scene in the movie.

He did everything he could to be close to you. He would hold your hand or let his hand rest on your thigh. He would lay his head on your shoulder, his arm reaching over the armrest to wrap around your waist. You leaned into his touch, but kept your eyes trained on the movie.

Eventually, he got tired of fighting for your attention and sat up, whispering in your ear, “You know, we could go home. There’s about a hundred more interesting things I’d love to do with you that don't involve a movie.”

You turned to Belphie and locked eyes with him, noticing the intense look in his eyes. He was serious. Your heart sped up as you turned your attention back to the movie, your mind racing with thoughts as your body betrayed you by blushing furiously.

Finally. Belphie smirked as he looked at your nervous appearance. This is the reaction he was looking for and he was proud he finally achieved it.

“Are you flustered?” he teased and you blushed even more. “I’m paying attention to the movie,” you defended.

“Fine…we’ll talk about it after,” Belphie replied with a smile, snuggling into you. Tonight was going to be a long night.

After getting to know Solomon a bit better, you quickly came to realize that he liked to flirt. And after all his years being alive, he was good at it. He enjoyed being close with you and calling things like his “adorable apprentice.”

He would use his magic to his advantage as much as he could. Were you feeling down? One magical touch later and he was handing you a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Missing the human world? He’ll bring you back up there for a quick trip.

Being as old as he is, he is a traditional flirt. He enjoys old-fashioned dates such as a candlelit dinner or going out dancing.

You enjoyed going out with Solomon and you loved flirting back with him. You would compliment him on how great of a sorcerer he is. You would tell him that you were glad he was the other exchange student that got brought to the Devildom.

The only thing you wouldn’t compliment him on was his cooking.

You were sitting across from Solomon at a dinner table in Ristorante Six. You and Solomon were having a nice date when he decided to try and take things a step further.

He leaned forward in his chair a bit and gently took your hand in his. You looked into his eyes and Solomon told you, “Everyone’s always fighting for your attention, and here you are on a date with me…I think I’ve fallen for you myself.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you noticed the sincerity in his eyes and you looked down, blushing deeply. Solomon smiled at your reaction and noticed how you didn’t pull away from him.

So, you only get nervous if he’s seriously flirting with you. Solomon takes note of the way you try to hide your smile and blush and can’t help but find it adorable.

In all his time, he’s never found someone he enjoys making flustered so much.

Simeon was an angel so most people would assume that he was pure or innocent.

In your experience, neither of those were true.

Simeon definitely upheld the angel title through his kind nature and good heart. But he was not innocent.

In fact, you got the impression from Simeon that he had some wild stories to tell. He was just waiting for the opportune moment to share them.

Simeon was polite when he flirted with you, complimenting you on your beauty and trying to make a genuine connection with you instead of trying to make more sensual advances.

But, that didn’t stop him from making a cheeky comment here and there. And it always took you by surprise.

You flirted back, enjoying the way his red cheeks lit up his tan skin. You thought he looked even better when he was blushing like that.

Simeon agreed that there was something special about seeing someone you have affections for, nervous - their cheeks rosy. But, he wanted to see what that looked like on you.

You were taking a walk around the garden with Simeon. He stopped for a moment when he noticed a particular flower. He carefully picked it off the bush before turning to you. He gave you a smile as he gently tucked it behind your ear.

He frowned slightly when he pulled away and you furrowed your eyebrows. “What is it?” you asked him. Did the flower not compliment you?

“That’s the most beautiful flower in the Devildom and it still doesn’t compare to your beauty,” he replied.

His words hit you hard as you immediately began blushing. “Simeon,” you muttered, smiling at how smooth the angel was.

Simeon smiled back, finally able to see how you looked when you were flustered. He continued as if he didn’t do anything wrong, interlacing his fingers with yours as you finished your walk.

Diavolo was the ruler of the Devildom. Whatever he wanted he got, and what he wanted more than anything was you.

So, he did whatever he could to win your affections. If there was something you wanted, he would buy it as soon as he was able to step away from the castle and he would hand deliver it to you.

If there was somewhere you wanted to go, he insisted on being the one who took you. He wanted to be the one who got to see the ways your eyes lit up when you experienced something new for the first time.

You showered Diavolo in praise. Whenever he was feeling down or questioning his decisions, you were always there to assure him he was doing an excellent job and that he was a wonderful ruler.

Your words always stirred something within him. He never found someone he deemed fit to rule the Devildom beside him until he met you. A seemingly simple human.

He wanted to express his feelings for you. So, he invited you out to the balcony. The view overlooked the many lights of the Devildom that stretched out far away from you. It looked never-ending from here.

“Y/N, there is a reason I asked you out here,” Diavolo started, gathering up the courage to say what he wanted to.

You turned to face Diavolo, allowing him to speak without being interrupted. “I wanted to thank you,” he added, turning to face you as well now.

He stepped forward, gently cupping your cheek before telling you, “I would be lost without you.”

You blushed at Diavolo’s words as he maintained eye contact. “I-I haven’t done anything special,” you stuttered out, your mind clouded by his proximity.

Diavolo let out a laugh as his hand dropped from your cheek to slide down your arm to interlace his hand with yours. “You’ll never know just how much you have done.”

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year ago

Text

The Bucket List || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: Life changes in the blink of an eye with a diagnosis and you are forced to face your mortality with the help of Charles Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, implied smut, grief, implied character death.

WC: 5.8k

Story || Death Scene || Two Years Later || Bucket Moments || Five Years Later

The winter break was meant to be a time for Charles to relax but one simple act had put an end to those plans. It had been a little joke between lovers while you were getting dressed. Charles had seen an opportunity and taken it, cradling the swell of your breast in his palm and giving it a quick squeeze.

“Honk, honk!”

You gasped at the sudden pain that flared and rubbed at the aching area. Charles was immediately sorry, apologising profusely as he brushed your hand aside and massaged it gently for you.

“It’s ok, Cha, this one’s been a bit tender lately.”

“What do you mean?” His concern was palpable and his hand flattened so the palm was pressing into your flesh. You couldn’t hide the wince at the spot he touched and he couldn’t hide the fear in his eyes.

“What?!” You stepped away and grabbed your breast, almost immediately feeling what he felt as your heart began to hammer hard in your chest. “It’s probably nothing, boobs are lumpy all the time.”

“Yeah…” he murmured distractedly. “We should probably check just to be sure. Right?”

You tried to nod casually but it was too hurried. “I mean, just to be sure.”

Everything moved quickly after that. The exhaustion was no longer jet lag. The low red blood count was no longer anaemia. The lump was no longer just fatty tissue.

“What happens now?”

You looked at your boyfriend, but his eyes were fixed on the doctor who had been explaining the test results. Charles had done all of the talking while you sat in a state of shock. You didn’t even feel like you were inside your own body but floating somewhere in the room and watching from outside.

“We could take a biopsy to be certain but the tests so far are quite conclusive and I wouldn’t recommend waiting. We could fit you in to remove the tumour in the next couple of days and have you home for Christmas.”

You knew this already. He had spoken about removing the lump. You couldn’t bring yourself to call it a tumour because, benign or malignant, it made it too real. Removing the lump was the extreme simplification of what he really meant. Mastectomy. Double to be precise. The risk was too great to leave the other breast untreated, apparently.

“We’ll take the surgery as soon as possible.”

You blinked at Charles, waiting to see if he would even look in your direction before making such a decision but his chin was resting on the tip of his steepled fingers. He leaned forwards, digging his elbows into his knees as he always did when he was deep in thought.

“No,” you rasped. “I can’t do it.”

“Yes, you can,” Charles replied without even looking at you. He had hardly looked your way since the first appointment a week ago.

“I’ll give you two some time to talk,” Doctor Hall said softly as he rose from his chair and left the room, the click of the door closing too loud in the heavy silence.

“It’s my body, Charles,” you whispered, your throat too hoarse to manage anything louder.

“I know that, but this is your life we are talking about.”

“We don’t even know for certain that it’s…that it’s…”

“It’s cancer,” he said with a sigh, “not saying it doesn’t change the test results.”

Your eyes burned, your tear ducts working overtime all week. The harsh lines on Charles’ face softened as he saw them well on your waterline before spilling over. Pulling you into his lap, he cradled your head to his chest as you ruined yet another one of his shirts with your makeup and tears.

“Mon amour, we will get through this but we have to trust the doctors.”

“I won’t have boobs,” you whispered as your voice broke.

Charles curled his finger under your chin and tipped it back as he searched your eyes for the answer. He found what he was looking for and dropped his forehead to yours with a shake of his head. “You will still be the most beautiful woman in the world. And I need you in the world, mon amour, do you understand that? I need you to fight this.”

A few days turned out to be just one after the oncology department received a large, anonymous donation. The private room in the hospital was filled with bouquets from friends and family, their floral scents were almost able to erase the tart smell of bleach. You still felt numb to the entire experience and Charles watched on with concern as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror.

Your reflection was the same, yet it wasn’t. Permanent marker pen lined the skin that would soon be permanently marred. The outlines accentuated what would be taken from you and you turned to your side profile, trying to imagine waking up without the pieces of your body Charles had loved.

“The surgeon said there are options, if it’s really that important to you,” Charles said as he pushed off the doorway he had leaned against and walked into the room. “But you don’t have to think about that now.”

You let him drape the surgical gown over your arms and they fell limp at your side while he tied the bows to keep your modesty. “Come and lay down with me,” he murmured as he took your hand and led you to the bed. You hadn’t been sleeping well, neither of you had.

It was narrow but Charles made space for you to lay in his arms with his chest pressed to your back. Monaco was alive outside the window you faced but the sounds didn’t reach you. Instead of watching the cars on their journeys you turned your eyes up to the cloudless sky and spotted the gulls that danced in the salt air.

“I lo-.”

Charles’ chest shuddered with the breath he took before he kissed your temple and whispered, “Don’t.”

“I need to tell you.”

“We promised, not until you wake up.”

“But what if I-”

“Don’t,” Charles begged, a wet drop falling into your hair. “Please.”

A knock sounded at the door but you kept your eyes firmly only the white feathers of the bird that landed on your windowsill outside. Charles pressed his lips to your temple once more before releasing you from his hold and climbing off the bed.

“I’ll be right there when you wake up, mon amour.”

“I…I’ll see you soon.”

He smiled sadly as you caught yourself from saying what you wanted to say, that sad smile remaining while your bed was wheeled away. You craned your neck as you were taken further down the hall, wanting to memorise the way he looked in case it was the last time you had the chance.

As promised, you woke up bleary eyed and groggy to those gold and green eyes, his hands holding yours tenderly as he sat beside your bed.

“Hi, beautiful,” he greeted as his smile brightened your day. It was a true smile, one you hadn’t seen for over a week, one that crinkled the corners of his eyes and revealed the dimples in his cheeks. “I love you.”

You felt drunk as the anaesthesia still circulated your body and you were sure you slurred the words you had been banned from telling him before. “I love you.”

You dozed in and out of consciousness until the pain relief began to wear off and breathing itself hurt. The bandages across your chest irritated your skin and the stitches pulled with every little movement. Charles noticed it all.

“I’ll see if they can give you anything for the pain.”

You caught his hand before he could leave and winced as the IV line in your hand tugged uncomfortably. “I’m hungry.”

Charles chuckled, knowing you would be after eating nothing before the surgery, and cradled your cheek gently. “Maman’s on her way with your favourites. I’ll be right back, baby.”

Charles arrived back with a large bag of hot dishes from your favourite restaurants around the city and the promise that the nurse would bring some medicine around soon.

“We’ll have someone come and move you up to the ward shortly,” the kind nurse said after she had given you another dose of pain relief. “You’ll be able to see your visitors there.”

You thanked her since you knew your parents would have been waiting with Pascale, Arthur and Lorenzo too. Charles had been keeping them updated since you woke up and his phone was constantly going off with notifications from your friends.

“How are you feeling?”

You placed your fork down into the empty bowl and Charles whisked it off your lap and tidied up the rubbish with the need to keep himself busy. “I don’t know,” you admitted as your head began to clear from the anaesthesia. “Two weeks ago we were partying in Baku and now we’re here. I still don’t know how this even happened. What if they made a mistake? This was all done so quickly.”

Charles carefully tucked the sheet back around your body after helping you to lie back down. “Mon amour, this is one of the best hospitals, they wouldn’t have done this unless it was the right decision for your health.”

“I know, I know. I just don’t know how to feel anything right now, except confusion.” You took his hand as he sat back into the chair beside your bed and kissed his knuckles. “How do you feel?”

“Me?” His brows pinched together as if he hadn’t been thinking for himself, and he really hadn’t. All of his thoughts and feelings had been focused on you. “I’m relieved, I suppose. You are here, I get to kiss you and hold your hand. That is good.”

You smiled at the hope in his voice. “I don’t remember a kiss.”

“Ah,” he hummed with a nod as he leaned closer until his lips were so close you could feel the heat of them as he whispered, “This one.”

You were warned that day two would be the hardest. The hard drugs had worn off and what you were supplied with took away the dull throbbing ache when you were stationary but did nothing to prevent the sharp pain of moving.

Charles had just lifted you back into bed after helping you go to the bathroom when the surgeon arrived with a forlorn look on his face. Immediately you felt the air leave the room.

Doctor Hall started with the good news, that the surgery went as planned with minimal bleeding from the tissue removal, but then there was a pause. Your fingers tightened around Charles hand as the doctor flipped the piece of paper on his clipboard over and clicked the end of his pen.

“When we began the removal of the tumour we found that the shape wasn’t exactly as we expected from the ultrasound.” He drew an oval shape on the paper before adding webs spindling off in all directions and pointing to them. “We removed as many of the tentacles as we could find but they are invasive and so we would like to start chemotherapy as soon as you have recovered from the operation.”

Charles' knee shook the bed as it bounced nervously. “Chemo?”

“Does this mean it is definitely c-cancer?” you stumbled over the word as you said it aloud for the first time.

The doctor nodded. “We were quite sure before but pathology confirmed it with the sample we sent.”

“What about Christmas?” you asked. “Can I still go home for Christmas?”

The doctor nodded again and you exhaled in relief. Christmas had been organised to be held at your house for months and it would give you a chance to do something normal after your life had been thrown off the rails. You needed this Christmas.

“We will schedule you in for after New Years, but you wouldn’t want to delay it much further than that.”

“Thank you,” Charles choked out for the both of you as you fell silent and he left. “What are you thinking so hard about, beautiful?”

“The menu. It needs to be special. And I want to invite everyone.”

“What, slow down, what are you talking about?”

“Christmas, Cha, I need to start planning now.”

Charles knew you were deflecting, pouring yourself into a future task so you didn’t have to think about the present. You had already gone through enough, so he bit his tongue and took a second to clear the thoughts he wanted to voice. Instead, he asked, “who, exactly, is everyone?”

“Slow down, you’re meant to be relaxing,” Charles warned as you rushed around the house for a last minute tidy up. “Don’t hurt yourself, baby, let me help.”

“I love you, but please leave this to me. I know where everything is.”

“I do too,” he exclaimed, falling silent when you picked up a remote that had stopped working. You had asked him to get the batteries for it the night before, but he hadn’t been able to find them.

“Second drawer in the kitchen,” you said as you tossed it to him and folded the blanket you snuggled under with him every night. “But you knew that right.”

He sent you a charming smile as he backed out of the room. “Of course, honey.”

You chuckled at his retreating figure. “Thought so.”

You had just finished lighting the scented candles around the house when the front door opened and Arthur breezed into the living room.

“Merry Christmas, ma chére. Shouldn’t you have your feet up?” he tutted as he kissed your cheeks, careful not to hug you since your chest still hurt.

“Merry Christmas, Tuthur.” His smile lifted at the old nickname and it only grew as you said, “You know how well your brother cooks. Be glad I don’t have my feet up.”

Everyone arrived steadily after Arthur and as the night grew colder every seat in the living room was taken by your guests. You could have imagined it being just like every other family Christmas as you sat on Charles lap and listened to Joris recount how he had spent the winter break so far.

You could have imagined it being just like every other family Christmas, but it wasn’t.

You were self-conscious in a way you never were before. The dresses you had loved so much were now something you couldn’t bear to wear as it accentuated the changes in your body. You had taken one shopping trip with Pascale so you could buy some presents but by the time you had got home there was a photo circulating the F1 WAG pages. The comments had nearly made you sick as they compared your flat chest to that of a young boy, or joked that the championship wasn’t the only thing that was lost at the end of the season.

You knew it was only a matter of time before the truth came out but you doubted they would feel any remorse, anyone who could say such things through a keyboard didn’t have the emotional capacity to feel guilt.

When midnight came and went, so too did the guests. Tipsy and jolly, they said their goodbyes and well wishes until the house fell quiet except for the music playing softly from the speakers. Charles pulled you into his arms and gently rocked you side to side as you laid your head on his chest. “Merry Christmas, mon amour. I didn’t know what to get you this year, so I was absolutely selfish and got this.”

Charles stepped out of your embrace as he dropped to one knee and held a ring out. Similarly designed to his mother’s, the ring was timeless and elegant with a large princess cut diamond. “Will you make me the happiest man and marry me?”

You had waited years for the question but the answer that fell from your lips went against every fibre of your being. Your hands covered your mouth but there was no silencing the words as they hung in the air. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Confusion slapped Charles’ pink cheeks and he swallowed twice before his voice could work again. “Why not?”

“You know why,” you whispered.

“No, I don’t.”

“Because I’m sick, and I don’t want to make plans if I’m not going to be there to…I just don’t think now is the right time.” You took the ring from his fingers and sighed with longing. “It’s beautiful, Char.”

“Hold on to it for me,” he said as he stood up and closed your hand around it. “When you beat this, I’ll be waiting, mon amour, however long it takes. I’ll wait for you.”

You held the ring tight as you closed the distance and put all the words and emotion you couldn’t articulate into a kiss, deepening it until you were breathless and needy. “Come to bed,” you breathed against his lips.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He looked pained by the very idea, or maybe it was the weeks of celibacy after your surgery.

Lacing your fingers together, you took a step towards the stairs and gently tugged him to follow. “You could never hurt me.”

The moment had been weeks in the making as the chemotherapy took its toll on you. For days after the treatment you had been ill and Charles had been at your side with a bowl ready for when you emptied the contents of your stomach. Then your muscles ached and you could barely hold your own weight up to walk. Just when you thought the worst had come to pass you felt the first strands come loose.

“Hello, my dear,” Pascale answered your call, only to be met with a hiccup. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“M-my hair,” you stammered as you looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Charles had been out shopping but you saw his face appear behind you as you turned to show him what filled your gripped fist. “It’s my hair.”

“I’ll be over shortly, just let me lock up the shop,” Pascale soothed before ending the call.

“I just brushed it,” you hiccuped as you touched your hair again, more of it floating to the tile floor. “It won’t stop.”

“I know, baby,” he murmured as he took your hand and brushed the hair from your palm. “Maman will know what to do. We’ll get through this like we have everything else, together.”

Pascale promised she could have a wig made for you if you wanted one but it was already late in the evening and you knew she was exhausted from working all day. You did however accept her offer to shave the rest of your head so at least the patches of missing hair didn’t stand out as much. Charles had sat with you in the bathroom and held your hand the entire time before asking his mother to shave his next.

“No, I love your hair,” you argued as he pulled his shirt over his head to save it from getting covered in the short dark strands.

“I told you we are doing this together,” he replied as he kissed your knuckles and nodded to his mum to proceed.

It took a while to get used to the smooth feel of skin on your head but you came to prefer it to the wig that Pascale crafted, somehow finding hair that was almost the exact same shade and texture to your natural hair. The moment you got home from any outing you would pull the wig off with a grateful moan just as you used to do with your bra.

“Are you going to be alright? Maman said she can come and stay with you.” Charles sat on his suitcase so he could zip it closed before looking up to where you sat in bed with a book on your lap. “I don’t like leaving you here alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” you reassured him. “It’s only for two nights.”

His team had let him get away with having one extra night at home before going to Bahrain for the 2024 pre-season testing, but it was still too long away from you in his eyes. You would have been with him but you were due some follow up tests.

“You’ll be so busy you won’t even have time to miss me,” you teased, spurring him to climb onto the bed and cage you beneath him.

“I miss you every second we are apart.”

You recognised the number calling your cell phone because you still had nightmares from the last time they rang. A pit of dread was already opening in your gut as you hovered your finger over the green button. You debated not answering the call but if you didn’t answer it then he would try Charles’ number next - and he needed to focus on driving.

You wished you never answered the call.

You had been quiet the entire drive from the airport to the hotel Charles was staying at. He wasn’t one to push you to talk before you were ready but he was certainly worried when he reached across the gearbox and placed his hand on your lap. He spared a glance to you as he gently squeezed your thigh but still you didn’t react, or take his hand, or even blink.

You didn’t remember the walk from the car to the hotel room. You were busy thinking about how you were going to break Charles’ heart, something you had never imagined you would have a hand in. You never wanted to hurt him, you loved him more than life itself, a life that was going to be shorter than you had once thought.

Charles stood quietly in the doorway to the bedroom, your suitcase still in his hand. He watched as you pulled your wig off for the first time since leaving Monaco and listened as you sighed heavily. His feet only carried him closer when you pulled a piece of paper from your pocket and held it out silently.

“What’s this?” Charles asked as he unfolded the note you had written on the plane. You had almost 10 hours to think of everything you wanted to do while you could and his eyes scanned over the list. “Baby, what is this?”

“It’s my bucket list.”

“A bucket list?”

“It’s a list of what I want to do before I die.”

“I know what a bucket list is!” He took a breath and ran his hand over the fuzz that had grown back on his scalp before lowering his voice as he shook the paper. “Why am I holding yours?”

His green eyes blurred with tears as you bit your lip and looked at your feet. He was already shaking his head in denial, wet droplets soaking into the list.

“My results came back…”

“Non, non, baby, non…”

“I’m sorry, Charles,” you choked as he fell to his knees and let the paper fall to the floor. His arms encircled your hips and you cradled the back of his head to your stomach as he cried against you. You finally let your own tears fall, the tears you had held back since you received the news. “I’m so sorry.”

Charles missed testing the next morning as he held you in his arms. The tears had long run out but the sadness still remained. He had laid with you all night as close as your bodies would allow and together you had seen the sunrise over the desert. He had listened to you quietly recount the doctor’s words but most of it made no sense to him.

Metastasized. Stage four. Terminal. The information ruined him.

“How long?” he finally asked. He looked at the paper that was still on the bedroom floor before clearing his throat and trying again. “How long do we have?”

You didn’t know if answering him would help or not but he was waiting for an answer as you rolled over to face him. The last three months had taken a toll on him and dark circles rimmed his eyes and they no longer held the same brightness. They were only going to dim more at the news. “Six months, maybe a year.”

He was silent, but you knew it wasn’t because he hadn’t heard you. Emotions warred behind his eyes before he climbed out of the bed and walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

You hated the silence but the screaming was worse. The painful wail echoed around the room and you felt it shatter something deep in your chest, before something shattered in the bathroom.

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you held yourself together while Charles fell apart.

You weren’t sure how long he screamed at the universe, how many times he asked it why, what he had done to deserve to lose someone else he loved. You weren’t sure how long it took him to clean the blood from his fist and wash his face of the tears before he unlocked the door and slipped back into the bed.

“Whatever you want, mon amour,” he promised as he unclenched your hands and curled his body around yours. “Anything you want to do, we’ll do it. We’ll do it all together.”

You stood at the edge of the lookout and smiled at Charles as he took the photo, another one for the memory box you were making together. Charles kept his promise, taking you everywhere around the world with him to tick off the items on your bucket list.

You had watched him win his home race for the first time and gone to a couples cooking class.

You visited all the Disneyland Theme Parks you hadn’t been to before: the Tokyo one when he raced in Suzuka, the Chinese one when he raced in Shanghai and the Floridian one when he raced in Miami.

Charles had taken you to Iceland to camp under the northern lights and to Pamukkale in Turkey where the blue waters were meant to work miracles. It hadn’t cured the illness that ravaged your body but each activity you crossed off cured some of the sadness in your soul.

“It’s bigger than I imagined,” Charles commented as he looked up at Christ the Redeemer. “What size shoes do you think he wears?”

“Well you know what they say about big feet.”

Charles’ head fell back with a laugh. “You cannot say that about Jesus.”

You fluttered your eyelashes innocently as he stepped closer to take a photo of you together. “I was going to say he wears big socks, get your head out of the gutter.”

“Of course you were, mon amour.” Charles’ lips curled up in amusement and you relished the way his eyes crinkled before you rose onto your toes so you could kiss him before the smile faded.

The flash of his camera captured the moment and you reluctantly pulled away as the sun began to set on another day spent living. The days were getting tiresome, your energy flagging as the medication changed from treating the illness to managing the pain. You had read enough to know that time was running out.

“We should get going, don’t want to miss our flight to Vegas.”

“About that…” he trailed off as he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and placed it in your hand. “I made a list of my own.”

Marry the woman of my dreams.

“I can only do it with you by my side.”

—

Pascale had created a beautiful headpiece for your wedding but when it came time to leave you hadn’t been able to place it on your head. A year ago you had only dreamt of the day you married Charles and in all those imagined scenes you had your hair styled up like she had crafted on the wig with pearl pins and a delicate tiara. But a lot had changed in a year, you had changed.

“Oh, sweetheart, you look beautiful,” she said as she wiped her eyes. Your own mother was speechless as she pulled you into her arms and held you tight.

“I’m going to ruin my makeup if you two don’t stop crying.”

“Honey, let her go,” your dad said softly as he placed a hand on your mother’s shoulder. “It’s time.”

Your throat felt as if it were closing and for a second you held on tighter before you both opened your arms. “I love you,” you said to them all as you looked at the proud but sad smiles on their faces. “Thank you for making this possible, for both of us.”

Your father grabbed the wheelchair you had been using, the exhaustion sometimes too much for you to handle, but you shook your head. “I’m going to marry him on my own two feet.”

You knew Charles had a lot of help organising the wedding because there was no way he could have done it on his own. The entire paddock had come to a standstill at the end of Media Day and you found yourself walking down a makeshift aisle on the grid to the starting lights.

Hundreds of friends joined your families on the track and you had no doubt that Charles had flown them all there at his own expense.

“When you said married in Vegas, I thought you meant the White Chapel,” you whispered with a giggle.

Charles' smile grew at the sound and he took your hands in his. “That’s something tacky Pierre would do.”

“Hey,” the groomsman objected beside Charles. “Elvis isn’t tacky. Focus on your own wedding, mate.”

You laughed at the exchange before Lorenzo cleared his throat and your eyes widened as you realised he was the celebrant. “Is this legal?”

“The online certificate I got says so,” he said with a wink. “But if you’ve changed your mind I can skip the legal bits.”

Your eyes lit up with amusement. “No way, I’m not going to miss having you as a brother-in-law.”

“And I thought we were here because you wanted to marry me,” Charles joked. He had waited so long to marry you but now that the moment was here he was in no rush for it to end. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, where you were lighthearted and smiling. Where you weren’t lost in thought but present in the moment, with him.

“I do,” you said with a grin before peeking back at his older brother. “Does that count, can I kiss him now?”

Lorenzo wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s not quite, shall we get started?”

Charles could hardly keep still with his excitement. “Ready, baby?”

You reached into a hidden pocket in the dress and pulled out the engagement ring he proposed at Christmas with. Slipping it into your finger, you gave him a serious nod. “Now I am.”

—

“Good morning, Mrs Leclerc.”

You smiled as Charles kissed your shoulder blade and rolled you over to face him. He had already showered and dressed for the day before climbing back into bed with you and you peeked at the clock to see he would almost be late.

“You should be at the track already,” you hummed between the sweet kisses he peppered across your skin.

“Wasn’t going to miss watching you wake up as my beautiful wife for the first time.” His smile wavered as he kissed your forehead before pressing the back of his hand to it. “How are you feeling?”

“A little tired, but last night was worth the lack of sleep.”

He smirked and traced your lips longingly with his eyes. “Definitely worth it. But you don’t feel hot or cold?”

“Focus on FP1, Cha,” you said with a little push for him to get out of bed. “You’re going to be late.”

He playfully nipped your collarbone before getting off the bed and blowing you a kiss. “Rest up, mon amour, I’ll come back between the practices.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, more than the moon and the stars.”

“Hopeless romantic.”

“Love of my life. Fire in my loins. The apple of my-“

“Go away!” You tossed a pillow at him before falling back into the warm blankets with a laugh that turned to a yawn. “Profess your love to someone else and let me sleep.”

“Never,” he chuckled quietly as he watched your chest rise and fall into a steady rhythm. “It will only be you.”

Your health deteriorated rapidly after Vegas and your doctor urged you to return to Monaco, but you weren’t ready to leave just yet. There was only one thing left on your bucket list and it was within your grasp. Charles and Max were neck and neck in the championship but you had faith your husband would triumph in the end. So instead of heading home you remained by his side in Qatar and Abu Dhabi, letting him hire a medical team as a trade off for ignoring your doctor's advice.

It wasn’t just the season coming to an end and you could both feel it as Charles prepared for the final race. You didn’t have the strength to go to the track and see him start from pole, the prime position for the championship deciding race. You barely had the strength to stay awake for the whole race but you fought against the heaviness in your body and scanned the screens that had been brought into your room.

Pride made you heart light as you watched the world through Charles’ eyes. The onboard camera was clear ahead, all his competitors in his rear view, and as the laps passed by his lead grew wider. Charles was flying and he was taking you with him.

Charles took a seat on the centre podium as confetti rained down and fireworks exploded overhead. He wiped the sweat and champagne from his face before reaching into his race suit and grabbing the pen and paper he had tucked away.

Putting a strike through the last line he held it up triumphantly to the camera. “We did it, mon amour, we did it.”

You smiled as if he would see it and closed your eyes as you lost the battle. “I’m ready to go home now.”

The Bucket List:

Sleep under the northern lights

Swim with sharks

Skinny dip (not with sharks)

See Christ the Redeemer

Bowl a strike

Go to every Disneyland once

Ride an elephant

Go to India for the colour festival

Win an escape room

Learn to whistle

Have a mud bath

Teach Charles to cook

Watch the Grand National horse race

Get a tattoo

Learn to use chopsticks

Throw beads at Mardi Gras

Have my palm read

Try absinthe

Ride a luge

Go to a rage room

Join the mile high club

Catch a fish

Make a will

Bathe in healing waters

Charles Leclerc - World Champion

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