#ray marcus x you
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Hello. Vox here. 30's. She/They. Married. Requests are OPEN!
↝I write all types of fanfiction. Dark toned, smut and kink, super dark and possessive, the list goes on. You can find various themes ↝here↜. That is my new masterlist, my old one is attached. ↝What will I not write? Underage reader! Won't do it. I will call you out for it. I have a strict policy will not write minor readers so please respect that. Other than anything is really a go. ↝I ask that you please not steal my work and post it elsewhere. I cannot emphasize enough to please not do that. I do not consent to you taking my work in any way shape or form and posting it elsewhere. Reblogs are always welcomed and appreciated. Comments and loves are always welcomed as well! ↝I do not consent to minors reading or interacting with my blog or my works. ↜ ↝You can pretty much guarantee anything you click on to read here has smut so treat it as NSFW. Always read the trigger warnings before you read. Again. I do not consent to posting my work anywhere. Do not steal my work. And again, no minors interacting or anything with my work. You will find yourself blocked and I won't be nice about it. ↝Characters I will write for Aaron Taylor-Johnson.↜ ✭ Sergei Kravinoff - Kraven The Hunter ✭ Sergeant Allen "Ize" Isaac - The Wall ✭ James Frey - A Million Little Pieces ✭ Ford Brody - Godzilla ✭ Count Aleksey Vronsky - Anna Karenina ✭ Ray Marcus - Nocturnal Animals ✭ Ben Leonard - Savages ✭ Tangerine - Bullet Train ✭ Divider & Header Credit to @nyxvuxoa
↬Quiver - Smut Prompt ↬Kitchen Quickie - Smut Prompt
↬A Solitary Love ↬Honeymoon ↬NSFW Alphabet
↬The Taste of You - Smut Prompt
↬"Use My Thigh" Smut Prompt
↬I Think It's Time
↬NSFW Alphabet ↬Netflix & Chill
↬Heat Waves ↬Where You Belong ↬The Taste of a Virgin - DARK FIC. PLEASE READ TRIGGERS ↬Right here. Right now - Anon Smut Prompt
↬Eat Spit Get Dicked ↬U-Turn
↬Begging You! - Smut Prompt
#kraven the hunter#kraven x you#kraven the hunter smut#tangerine smut#tangerine x reader#sergei kravinoff x reader#ray marcus x reader#ray marcus smut#ben leonard x reader#tangerine x fem!reader#aaron taylor johnson smut#aaron taylor johnson x reader#aaron taylor johnson fanfic#bullet train x reader#tangerine x you#ray marcus x you#alexei vronsky#alexei x reader#the fall guy#alexei smut#count vronsky#anna karenina#James Frey x reader#james frey x you#a million little pieces#fanfiction masterlist#VoxMortuus
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ATJ Masterlist
Anything and everything under the cut is possibly mature in some way. It's best to always read any warning in my posts before reading the story. People under 18 are not welcome and I will not be nice about it. I do not consent to my stories being taken and posted elsewhere.
A Side Note: I am aware of how some people feel about sexualizing or "idolizing" bad guys. I am going to tell you now before you inbox me: I don't care, I have heard it before. You are entitled to your opinion and free to have it, but I don't have to agree with it. There is a block button, and you are free to use it or you can scroll on and go about your day.
Dating Ray Marcus would Include
Mine
Hot Sugar in the Afternoon
It Beats for You [WIP] - Anon Request, Moved to Drafts
Leather black and Eyes of Blue [WIP] - Anon Request, Moved to Drafts
We Are Meant to Be [WIP] - Yandere!Veronsky, Request, In Drafts
Dating Tom Ryder would Include
Love Bites
#kraven the hunter#kraven x you#kraven the hunter smut#tangerine smut#tangerine x reader#sergei kravinoff x reader#ray marcus x reader#marvel fanfiction#ray marcus smut#ben leonard x reader#tangerine x fem!reader#savages 2012 x reader#count vronsky x reader#aaron taylor johnson smut#ford brody x reader#aaron taylor johnson x reader#savages 2012#fanfic#aaron taylor johnson fanfic#bullet train x reader#tangerine x you#ray marcus x you#nyxvuxoa writes#nyxvuxoa#tom ryder fanfiction
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MAJOR FIC RECOMMENDATION
I know I don’t usually post many fic recommendations outside of reblogs but I recently read a fic that is severally underrated(I’m talking less than a thousand reads) that I really wanted to share.
“The Wooing of Marcus Flint” by rubberduckz84 on AO3
paring: marcus flint x female!oc(Adrian Pucey’s cousin)
summary: After recently coming out of a failed marriage, an older Marcus Flint finds his way at his best friends house, Adrian Pucey’s, where he meets his friend’s squib cousin that’s new to England and unaware of magic. As the two experience a whirlwind romance with an instant connection, how can Marcus continue to hide the greater secret of his world when the two begin to become close.
trigger warnings: mentions of drinking alcohol(a lot for the sake of clubbing), and brief mentions of infidelity.
Review: I really enjoyed this story, at first the story seemed to be simply a decent read. however, once you delve into the full story you become quickly immersed. The author thrives at developing Marcus as a character(despite lack of much original source material for him) and is able to create a in-depth character with likes, dislikes, wants, motivations, and overall depth. As well as showcasing him as someone who has learned from his mistakes in the past and is accountable for past misdeeds. Also the depth and characterization of Nora(the oc lead) is so good, I feel some fics lack depth to their reader insert characters but I feel like they did a great job adding a real background, interests, and characterization which makes you not only like the character but end up rooting for them. Truly I felt like I really got to know her as a person and I appreciate the humor the author used which made her such a powerful and impactful lead. I also appreciated the way the perspective was written, shifting but mostly keeping to marcus’ inner thoughts, which is rarer in fics and I enjoyed it. I felt the slow burn was so well built, and I appreciated the growth from the characters. As well as the supporting characters were great.
I do admit some of the scenes may come off as cringy(personally not necessarily I just disliked minor parts), honestly it’s just some minor scenes that you can read through and still have an overall good read.
And the most important point I have is I appreciate Marcus being written as 43 y/o and the oc being 33, I felt a lot of fics do not cater towards readers that aren’t 20 y/o and don’t take into consideration finding love later in life. I feel a lot of people fear they won’t find their partner by their late twenties, and it’s scary but I appreciate the message that you can be older like marcus(being in his 40s) and able to be at a place where he can find love because he had matured so so much and grown. It was so nice to just read a domestic fluff fic, it was definitely a feel good read. Plus Marcus is so underrated as a character and the author characterized and built him so well.
#ray rambles#rays fic recommendations#marcus flint x reader#marcus flint#harry potter fic rec#underated#fanfic recommendation#hp fic rec#marcus flint x oc#marcus flint x you#even if your not a flint fan it’s a good read
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His Love
Marcus Acacius x Reader
Summary: You were meant to marry him, thinking he is an unkind man, you kept your distance from him, but soon, you learned the truth.
As the sun cast its golden rays over the bustling streets of ancient Rome, Marcus Acacius, a bold Roman soldier, crossed paths with you, his soon-to-be wife.
At first, your heart held nothing but hate for this man, seeing him as a brute and unkind soul.
However, destiny had a different plan in store for both of you.
In an unexpected turn of events, you discovered that he was nothing like your initial judgment had led you to believe.
Beneath his hardened exterior lay a heart filled with kindness, compassion, and a burning love for you.
You wanted to explore that.
To see where it would lead the two of you.
And so, you began to spend more time together.
You ate together and even went on many walks around the city. Seeing him interact with people made you realise just how kind he was.
Watching him smile spread a warmth inside your heart.
Slowly, the walls you had built around your heart began to crumble.
Marcus's gentle words and thoughtful gestures slowly melted away your worries, allowing love to blossom inside you.
In the tender moments shared, he revealed his vulnerability and how deeply he had fallen for you.
One evening, Marcus took your hand and whispered to you.
"My love, I know that our journey together began with animosity, but I promise you, my intentions have always been pure. I am here to protect you, cherish you, and love you with every fibre of my being."
Tears welled up in your eyes at his words.
"Marcus, I never imagined that behind your cold facade, there would be such a loving heart. I am grateful for the person you have shown me, and I too must confess, I have fallen deeply in love with you."
From that moment forward, your lives intertwined as you embarked on a journey filled with love, trust, and unwavering devotion.
Your wedding was simple. Your family was there, and you had a great time.
But you were just thankful for the journey ahead of you with a husband so loving, kind and handsome.
In the years that followed, amidst the madness of war and the difficulties of life, Marcus remained your dedicated rock.
His unwavering support and unwavering love carried you through every storm, reminding you of the depth of his commitment.
Of his Love.
Taglist:
@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou
@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief
@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
#x reader#fanfiction#x female reader#Marcus Acacius x Reader#marcus acacius x y/n#general marcus acacius#gladiator marcus#marcus acacius#marcus acacius fanfiction#marcus acacius x female reader#gladiator marcus acacius x reader#gladiator marcus acacius#gladiator marcus x reader#gladiator marcus acacius x you#gladiator x reader#gladiator ll#gladiator 2#gladiator ii#gladiator movie
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Falling Fast
Pairing: General Marcus Acacius x female reader
Word Count: 1,938
Summary: Every moment spent with him pulls you closer to the edge and when you're forced to have time apart it only makes you realize how much you want to be with him.
Author's Note: Here's more for Marcus and our princess! It's so lovely to know some of you are enjoying this as much as I am, so thank you, from the bottom of my heart. All these stories can be read as stand alones but if you want to get into the finer details then you can check out the other's here, in this order: Falling First, Falling Fast, Falling for the Forbidden, Forbidden, A Warrior's Heart (this last one is in the far future). Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 😘
Warnings: sweet softness, tension, more book/poetry talk, stolen moments, a kiss
Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist
Sunlight filters through the open spaces in the roof and dust dances in the shining rays as you sit with your head bent to a book. It bores you, however, so you snap it shut and place it down on the table.
You reach for the nearest wooden ladder and start to climb. Boxes of scrolls flank you on either side but you’re in search of more poetry from your father’s rare collection of books. Most of them are on the art of war but thankfully there are some hidden gems among the rest.
You stop climbing when you spot an ornate binding and reach for it. When you open the volume, dust floats up and out, tickling your nose and causing you to sneeze. Regardless you keep turning the pages, eagerly absorbing every word while still standing on the steps of the ladder.
“Surely the Princess should not be reading in such a precarious position.”
“What?” you say with a start, searching the space.
The General stands at the entrance of the portico, his ornamental cuirass dazzling in the shafts of sunlight he walks through as he approaches.
“That’s not a safe place for you to read,” he muses with a smile playing upon his lips.
You look down at yourself as if remembering everything that has happened in the last few minutes all at once.
“Oh…well I…”
You clear your throat and clutch the wooden post of the ladder more tightly. Once the General is standing below you, he holds out his hand to offer assistance.
Your eyes stay locked on his as you place your hand in his own, the warmth of his calloused skin spreading along your arm and right down your spine. He reaches his free hand up and gently cradles your back until your feet touch solid ground.
“There,” he says quietly. “Much better.”
You continue to hold his gaze, swaying closer the longer his eyes stay focused on you and when they drop to your mouth you softly sigh.
The book slips from your hand when you reach for his arm and the sound echoes loudly, dragging you back to reality.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, suddenly breathless.
“The same thing you are Princess,” he answers.
When you don’t respond and the book remains on the stone floor between you, he bends to retrieve it and then takes your wrist, carefully placing the book in your hand.
“Escaping.”
Your breath catches at his confession and the urge to reach out and touch his face is overwhelming.
“General Acacius…”
“Marcus. Please.”
You swallow hard and with a small nod repeat his name in a whisper.
He steps closer, the sound of his name on your lips seeming to create a new spark of heat in his eyes.
“Say it again,” he murmurs, moving closer.
Your back hits the wall of wooden boxes and he places his large hands on either side of your head, caging you in.
“Marcus,” you whisper.
His hand drops to your cheek and his thumb sweeps across the soft skin, lifting your chin and pulling you closer.
The sound of heavy footfalls fills the hall outside the library and his eyes widen and with a muttered curse he steps away from you and moves quickly to a wall of scrolls across the room.
You stand paralyzed, the scent and the heat of his touch lingering.
Your father enters with a stoic expression and when his eyes land on you he scowls.
“Reading your romance again?” he mocks.
You open your mouth to answer but Marcus cuts in. “Actually, she was helping me find something.”
Your father’s head swings around to the General and his face lights up.
“Ah, there you are General Acacius!”
Before the General can say more your father continues, “I do hope she has not been boring you with her nonsense…”
“Not at all,” Marcus says. “She is a most gracious help.”
Your father looks between the two of you, his eyes narrowing.
“And just what is it, General, that you came into my private library looking for?” your father asks.
The General smiles warmly. “Your incredible collection of books on war, of course.”
A sadistic smile splits your father’s pursed lips. “Very good! Unfortunately, you are needed for more urgent matters. You will have to peruse my scrolls another time.”
With that he throws you a repulsed look and turns on his heel, clearly expecting the General to follow.
Marcus waits until the footsteps recede before taking long strides back to you.
“I am sorry,” he whispers as he takes your hand in his.
“What for?” you ask, your eyes tracking the movement as he lifts your hand to his lips.
“I will see you soon,” he promises before pulling you into his chest.
You gasp and lean into him, craning your neck as he dips his head. Your eyes close and your fingers curl against his cuirass but his warm breath merely fans your lips before he presses them to the corner of your mouth.
When he pulls away his expression is filled with yearning, and he gives your hand a squeeze before he lets it fall back to your side. Your lips are parted, and you sway on your feet as you watch him exit the library and follow in your father’s footsteps.
Days go by without a sight of the general and at the week’s end you can feel yourself withdrawing. You can’t focus on reading, every walk you take is spent searching for him, hoping you’ll cross paths and each night you lie awake until you remember nothing else but your dreams.
Dreams of the feel of his fingertips, his lips, his strong body pressed to yours…it’s enough to have you awakening with an aching need.
On one particularly uneventful evening you find yourself scouring the library for your book of Horace poetry. It’s been missing for days.
Deciding another walk might clear your head, you stomp away to the grounds near the Colosseum, wiggling your bare toes in the cool grass outside of the gladiator training school, while you look up at the clouds dancing across the blue sky.
You can hear the distant sound of the wooden practice weapons banging together and the indecipherable grunts and shouts of the training gladiators.
Then a commanding voice rings out over all the others and your breath hitches. You stand with a flurry of ungraceful movements and follow the sound to the open area where men are practicing.
Marcus walks tall between the lines, instructing and repositioning as he moves, all the while watching with keen eyes. You hide yourself as best you can behind the low stone wall and watch.
He’s a spectacle of power and grace and before you realize where your feet are carrying you, you’re standing in plain sight, eyes glued to the General.
“Princess,” one of the training men croons. “Have you come to enjoy the sights?”
Your eyes move slowly away from Marcus and land on the man who is speaking to you, and you lift your chin.
“I am merely out for a walk.”
He flexes his muscles and licks his lips as he eyes you hungrily.
Without warning you hear the crack of a hand against skin, and the man falls to his knees. The General stands above him.
“The Princess may enjoy whatever sights she wants without your commenting on it.”
He then brings his eyes to yours. “Forgive me. I hope you were not disturbed.”
“Not at all General,” you answer. “Just out for a walk…in search of some patience.”
Marcus’ eyes widen ever so slightly, barely enough for you to catch, but then you see his fist flex at his side and his lips twitch with a smile.
“I understand,” he replies. “I have been asked to oversee the training of the new gladiators and have been held up here at the training grounds…it is a test of my patience.”
With this new knowledge of why he’s been missing you smile and ask, “I hope you at least have had time do some reading?”
He steps closer, away from prying ears.
“I have actually.”
His smile is playful.
“Horace again?” you ask.
He nods with a slight incline of his head and says, “I hope you do not mind. It helps to pass the time here.”
“Not at all General,” you smile. “When will you be returning to the palace grounds?”
“Tonight,” he states. “I would like to visit the library again.”
You notice the trainees starting to get rowdy, their eyes warily darting between you and the General the longer you speak.
Marcus clears his throat and looks over his shoulder, causing the other men to straighten up and stand in line.
He starts to turn on his heel to address them but not before he says, quietly enough for only you to hear, “until tonight. Princess.”
The darkness of night blankets the sky and the oil lamp you hold does little to blot out the brilliance of the stars above as they twinkle through the openings in the library roof.
You’re staring up at them when he walks in. His footsteps are sure but quiet and when he reaches you, he takes the lamp from your fingers and sets it down on the table.
“I have never experienced a day longer than this,” he murmurs.
“Marcus,” you whisper, trying to restrain yourself from reaching out for him.
You look him over, noticing a large bandage wrapped around his upper bicep and gently lift your fingers to touch it.
“It is nothing,” he assures you, wrapping his fingers around yours and pulling you into his chest.
Tonight, he wears only a cloth tunic, and you can feel the way his muscles tense and shift beneath the soft fabric. Your fingertips glide across the wide breadth of his shoulders and then to toy with the pin holding the tunic in place.
You won’t meet his eyes and his grip tightens.
“Something troubles you,” he states.
“No,” you answer quickly, finally looking him in the eyes.
His eyebrows raise knowingly, and he waits.
“Yes,” you say this time, much more softly. “It is just that…the other night, here in the library…”
Your words die off with a sigh, but he finishes the thought for you.
“Why did I not kiss you?”
You suck in a breath.
“Princess. I would not have the first time my lips touch yours be anything less than perfection and under prying eyes I should not like to have been rushed.”
“Oh,” is all you can say as he easily walks you backward toward one of the stone pillars.
It’s cold when you back hits it, but you don’t care and instead press yourself closer to him.
“Marcus. Please.”
He growls out your name as he slides his hands up the curve of your waist, tucking one behind your neck and the other under your jaw. Your noses brush ever so lightly, and he closes his eyes with a deep inhale as his lips ghost along your skin.
His lips are soft and gentle as they touch your cheek, then your temple, your forehead, and finally they hover just above yours.
“Marcus…?”
“I fear that once I kiss you, I will never be able to stop.”
He breathes the words against your skin and breathes you in before his lips capture yours. It’s soft at first, tentative, but the moment you let slip the low moan at the back of your throat, it becomes insistent and intense, and you kiss him back with equal fervor.
@blackwidownat2814 @hiddles-rose @tripletstephaniescp @lizette50
#marcus acacius x reader#pedro pascal#marcus acacius#general marcus acacius#marcus acacius x you#marcus acacius x female reader#marcus acacius x y/n#marcus acacius x princess!reader#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#marcus acacius fanfiction#general acacius#gladiator 2#pedro pascal characters
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MEET ME AT THE SET | Pedro Pascal X f!reader | one shot
Written by Santa Trindade
Banner by @missyorkswhore
Made in Brazil
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader
Summary: Pedro is THE GENERAL, babe!
wc: 1.3k
rating/warnings: [oral sex m receiving] [cum in mouth] [light fingering] [Overstimulation]
a/n: @missyorkswhore wrote her first solo fic by herself! Kudos to her!!! That’s what a horny gal does staring at new stills of Pedro in Gladiator II
The shootings has been intense, Pedro tells you by messages how busy and exhausting it is, they start recording as soon as the first rays of Sun appear and only at night he returns to the hotel.
This has been your relationship, messages, backstage pics and some calls during the night.
You miss him.
"I miss you, I hope you're having fun, General."
You send him a message, hours later his phone vibrates, it's already dawn, you pick up your phone, your eyes burning with the brightness of the screen.
"Hey, I miss you too. God, I'm exhausted and happy, I have good news! It's the last week of shooting, come here, we can enjoy a few days together. Are you coming?"
You smile and type a huge YES. You talk for a few minutes and Pedro sends your flight info and hotel to your email.
Three days later you are on your way to the set, Pedro couldn't pick you up at the airport, but arrange a car to take you immediately to the set.
You enter through the back of the set, producers and employees everywhere, and in the background you can see the huge arena they created, you feel as if you were in two eras, on your left ancient Rome, on your right the current world full of cameras, phones ringing and people walking back and forth.
You walk between the trailers, looking at the doors that indicate where each actor is, a few more steps and your eyes meet the sign "Pedro Pascal -Marcus Acacius" you knock on the door but your jaw drops as soon as the door is opened. Pedro has one hand on the door and the other on his hip. He is incredibly beautiful, a white outfit with golden details, the golden drawings highlighting the middle of the white armor. Your eyes go up to Pedro's face, he wears a golden laurel crown.
-Wow... sorry, I thought it was Pedro's dressing room...
Pedro laughs and pulls you by the hand
-No love, Pedro is unavailable at the moment, only General Acacius now.
He kisses you and you feel his taste, the taste you were searching for. His right hand goes to your waist pulling you against his body, his left hand on the back of your neck, lightly pulling your hair making your head tilt back.
-God, I missed that so much.
He murmurs as he runs his lips down your neck leaving soft bites that make you shiver and moan softly.
You push him until Pedro falls sitting in the armchair behind him, he smiles as he watches you kneel slowly at him.
-I heard that in ancient Rome after battles men went for a bath place, is this the name?
And they were very well taken care of... and you're so exhausted, aren't you general?
Pedro laughs softly and caresses his cheek with his fingers going down the sensitive skin of your neck, he nods and whispers
-Yes, so exhausted.
You run your hands down his legs, the skin hot, the muscles getting tense under the palms of your hand. You don't stop looking at him, seeing how his lips become half open, his eyes getting darker and darker.
You raise your hands until the tips of your fingers meet his underwear, feeling the heat of his cock.
You pull his underwear down, taking them off by the legs and throw them on the floor.
Pedro looks hypnotized, he smiles and you go up the fabric of his clothes until his cock is fully exposed, the wet pink tip, the lateral vein pulsating while he whispers.
-Is that what you want?
He smiles debauchedly.
You nod your head, your right hand holding by the base feeling it pulsating, Pedro's eyes close quickly. His breathing changes when you lick the drop that accumulates at the tip, his thumb goes up to your lips spreading the liquid, you suck his finger, biting and making Pedro gasp his hand going straight to your hair.
-Don't play with me like that or-
Before he can complete the sentence you put his cock in your mouth, as much as you can, his bittersweet taste on your tongue, the lateral vein pulsating, the unique smell of his skin invading your nostrils.
Pedro moans and you look at him and can't hold back the moan with what you see. Pedro with his eyes almost closed, his mouth open, his breath starting to get panting and the damn laurel wreath. He looks like a fucking Greek God.
You swallow it all feeling it hit your throat. Pedro lets his head fall back and a hoarse moan comes out of his throat, his hand grabs your hair firmly, conducting as he wants, how hard he wants to fuck his mouth.
You continue the up and down movements, swirling your tongue at the tip, you can't look away, his vision with the white armor.
Pedro takes his left hand to your head, both hands guiding you, making you take him so deeply.
He bites his lip, you know he wants to moan and curse, but now it takes a little silence, only small hoarse moans escape his lips, his eyes wandering between his mouth and his eyes.
-If it continues like this I'll cum in your mouth...fuck! - he moans loudly when he feels you masturbate him while your tongue passes through the tip provoking him, you whisper
-Is that what you want, general? - you gently run your tongue over the tip of his cock, provoking the sensitive skin that makes his legs tense.
Pedro growls and pushes his head making your mouth swallow his whole cock.
-Damn, yes...don't stop, please.
Pedro's right hand finds yours on the inner of his thigh, his fingers intertwining yours, while the left hand holds your hair, preventing the strands from hindering his vision of you sucking it.
You suck for a few more seconds until you feel Pedro squeezing your hand hard, his legs shaking, moans escaping from his lips, so low that they seem growling. You swallow every drop, licking until Pedro has spasms and pulls you to his lap.
He sticks his forehead to yours, panting, he kisses your lips pulling between his teeth and smiles.
-I missed you so much.
Pedro unbuttons your pants, his fingers dipping inside your panties and feeling how wet you are.
-Shit, I need to feel you on my tongue now.
He says while biting and licking your neck.
A knock on the door catches your attention, someone says that Pedro's scene is the next one to be shoot. He throws his head back, frustrated and you laugh.
-All right, go soon General... I'll be at the hotel waiting for you.
Pedro kisses you, his middle finger dives into your pussy and he takes it to his lips, sucking while moaning as if he were tasting the best dessert in the world.
-Now I can go...wait for me at the hotel, I'll be there in a few hours.
He kisses you, fixes the clothes wearing the underwear again. He looks at you and smiles, he hugs you and kisses your forehead and then your lips.
-I really missed you.
He turns around, puts on his sunglasses and opens the trailer door, and leaves.
You can't wait for the day to end.
——————————-
Thanks for being here and read our delusional fics, likes are appreciate, comments even more. If you want to ask anything, blast it!
#pedro pascal#pedrohub#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal x f!reader#frankie catfish morales#joel miller#pedro pascal imagine#frankie morales#dieter bravo#general marcus acacius#marcus acacius x reader#marcus acacius#dbf joel miller#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fan#pedro pascal edit#pedropascaledit#pedro x reader#joel miller drabble#pedro pascal x you#pedropascal#dieter bravo smut#dieter bravo x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut
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The Empress and the General
Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female reader
Word Count: 3399
Pedro Pascal Masterlist
The Colosseum buzzed with the thunderous cheers of Rome’s citizens. The air was thick with anticipation, dust swirling in the golden rays of the sun. General Marcus Acacius, his polished armor gleaming, stood near the Emperor's platform. His piercing gaze scanned the roaring crowd, but his mind was steady, unyielding. He had long served Rome with unwavering loyalty, his reputation as a fierce warrior preceding him.
Today, however, his focus faltered as his eyes fell on her.
Y/N sat gracefully beside her brothers, Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla, adorned in a flowing gown of imperial purple and gold. Her presence was like a beacon amidst the chaos, her beauty striking, her demeanor regal. She leaned forward slightly, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and excitement as she watched the spectacle below. Marcus felt his breath hitch—a reaction he hadn’t experienced in years.
As though sensing his gaze, Y/N turned her head, her eyes meeting his. There was a brief moment where the world seemed to pause. A flicker of something—recognition, perhaps—passed between them before she looked away, her lips curving into a small smile.
Marcus swallowed hard, tearing his eyes away. He was a soldier, bound by duty. And she—she was untouchable.
Later that evening, the emperors summoned Marcus to their private chambers. The siblings were striking in their contrasting personas: Geta, the more calculating and composed ruler, and Caracalla, brash and fiery. Y/N sat quietly to the side, her expression unreadable.
"General Acacius," Geta began, his tone measured, "you have served Rome well, and we entrust you with a new responsibility."
Marcus inclined his head respectfully. "Anything for the glory of Rome, my lords."
Caracalla leaned forward, a sly grin on his lips. "Our sister, Y/N, is dear to us. As you know, the court is rife with intrigue. We require someone capable of ensuring her safety."
Marcus blinked, his composure unwavering despite the quickened pace of his heart. "You wish for me to guard her, my lord?"
"Precisely," Geta affirmed. "You will accompany her during public appearances, oversee her security, and report directly to us."
Marcus’s gaze flickered briefly to Y/N, who now watched him intently. "It will be my honor."
The following days saw Marcus in Y/N’s constant presence. Initially, their interactions were formal. She would nod politely when he escorted her, offer a soft "thank you" when he opened doors or helped her into carriages. Yet, there was a quiet curiosity in her eyes, as if she sought to understand the man behind the armor.
One afternoon, as they strolled through the imperial gardens, Y/N finally spoke.
"Do you always take your duties so seriously, General?"
Marcus glanced at her, surprised by her playful tone. "A soldier’s duty is his life, my lady."
"Surely there’s more to life than duty," she mused, plucking a flower and twirling it between her fingers.
"Not for someone like me," he replied, his voice low.
"And what is someone like you?"
Marcus hesitated. "A man who serves. Nothing more."
Y/N stopped walking, turning to face him. "I don’t believe that. You’re more than just a soldier, Marcus Acacius."
Hearing his name from her lips sent a shiver through him. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure. "You honor me with your words, my lady."
She smiled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Perhaps I do."
As weeks passed, their conversations grew deeper. Y/N shared stories of her childhood, moments of joy and sorrow. Marcus, in turn, revealed fragments of his life—his rise through the ranks, his loyalty to Rome. Slowly, walls crumbled, and an undeniable connection formed between them.
One evening, as they stood on a balcony overlooking the city, Y/N spoke softly. "Do you ever dream, Marcus?"
"Dream?" he echoed.
"Yes. Of something beyond this life. Beyond duty and titles."
Marcus looked at her, the moonlight casting her features in a soft glow. "I stopped dreaming long ago."
She stepped closer, her gaze unwavering. "Then perhaps it’s time you start again."
For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine—a life where she wasn’t the sister of emperors, where he wasn’t bound by duty. A life where they could be free.
Their growing closeness did not go unnoticed. Whispers spread through the court, and the emperors, though initially indifferent, began to question Marcus’s loyalty.
Caracalla confronted him one day, his tone sharp. "Do not mistake my trust for permission, General. My sister is not yours to covet."
Marcus stood his ground, his voice steady. "I have done nothing to dishonor her or your family, my lord."
"See that it stays that way," Caracalla warned, his eyes narrowing.
The tension only served to deepen Marcus’s resolve. He couldn’t deny his feelings for Y/N, but he also couldn’t risk her safety. Yet, Y/N, ever perceptive, sensed his inner turmoil.
One night, as they walked through the palace halls, she stopped abruptly.
"Marcus," she said, her voice firm, "do you care for me?"
He froze, his heart pounding. "My lady, I—"
"Do not lie to me," she interrupted, stepping closer. "I see it in your eyes. You feel what I feel."
Marcus exhaled shakily. "It doesn’t matter. You are—"
"Don’t say it," she pleaded. "Don’t remind me of the chains that bind us."
Her vulnerability shattered his defenses. Without thinking, he reached out, cupping her face gently. "I would give everything to be with you," he admitted, his voice raw.
"And I would do the same," she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes.
Their love, though forbidden, became their solace. They stole moments whenever they could—hidden glances, whispered words, fleeting touches.
But their happiness was fleeting. The emperors grew suspicious, and whispers of betrayal reached their ears.
One fateful day, Marcus was summoned to the throne room. Geta and Caracalla stood side by side, their expressions grim. Y/N stood behind them, her face pale.
"General Acacius," Geta began, "you have served Rome faithfully, but your recent actions have brought your loyalty into question."
Marcus dropped to one knee. "I have done nothing to betray Rome or your trust, my lords."
Caracalla sneered. "Do not insult our intelligence. Your feelings for our sister are no secret."
Y/N stepped forward, her voice trembling. "They are my feelings as well. Do not punish him for what is beyond his control."
Her words stunned the room into silence. Marcus looked up at her, his eyes wide.
Geta sighed, his tone heavy. "This cannot continue. For the sake of the empire, Marcus, you must leave."
Marcus was exiled, sent to the outskirts of the empire. But even distance could not sever their bond. Through letters smuggled by loyal servants, they kept their love alive, vowing to reunite one day.
Years later, as Marcus fought in a distant land, a message arrived. It bore Y/N’s handwriting, her words filled with hope and longing.
"Rome may keep us apart, but my heart is yours, always. One day, we will find our way back to each other."
And with that promise, Marcus held onto hope, determined to defy fate and reclaim the love that had changed him forever.
The quiet of the night was broken only by the rustle of leaves in the wind, but Y/N felt the weight of a decision that had long been simmering in her heart. The golden glow of the imperial palace, with its looming marble columns and opulent halls, had never been more suffocating. The weight of being the sister of two emperors, of carrying the expectations and responsibilities of the empire on her shoulders, had grown unbearable. Even her love for her brothers had not been enough to silence the yearning that had lodged deep within her—a yearning for freedom, for a life not defined by power or politics, but by love and choice.
She glanced out of her window one final time, at the majestic city of Rome stretching endlessly beneath the sky. But her thoughts were not on the glory of the empire. They were on the man she had left behind, the man who had once stood beside her, not as a general or protector, but as a lover—Marcus Acacius.
It had been nearly three years since her brothers had exiled him, a decision that had torn her apart. Yet, with every letter she received from him, with every fleeting moment of longing, her resolve had only strengthened. She could not bear the thought of living without him. He had become more than a soldier to her—he was her heart, her future.
The plan was simple, though dangerous. She would leave in the dead of night, with nothing but a few personal belongings and a letter to her brothers. There was no turning back once she stepped beyond the palace walls. But as she made her preparations, a sense of peace settled over her, knowing that this was the right choice.
By the time the moon reached its zenith, Y/N had left the palace behind. The streets of Rome were deserted, the bustling life of the city hushed under the veil of darkness. Her heart raced with each step, but there was no hesitation. She was driven by a singular purpose: to find Marcus, to build a life with him, far from the reach of her brothers and their empire.
The journey was long and treacherous. She had little more than the clothes on her back, but her mind was resolute. She knew the way to the small village where Marcus had taken refuge after his exile. It was a place far removed from the influence of the empire, nestled at the edges of the Roman world, where the forests were thick and the land untamed. The journey, though, was fraught with danger. There were still whispers of Marcus’s supposed betrayal of Rome, and she knew that Roman patrols could be anywhere, hunting for her.
But her love for him was stronger than the fear that clawed at her chest. She would endure whatever hardships lay ahead, for him. For them.
Days passed before she finally arrived at the small stone house Marcus had built for them. The door swung open as soon as she knocked, revealing a man who looked nothing like the polished general she had known. His once-gilded armor had been replaced with simple tunics, and his face, once smooth and youthful, now carried the marks of exile. Yet, as their eyes met, the love in his gaze was unchanged.
"Y/N..." he whispered, his voice thick with disbelief and emotion.
She smiled, tears threatening to fall. "I had to come, Marcus. I couldn’t stay. Not without you."
He stepped forward, his arms wrapping around her as if afraid that if he let go, she would vanish into the night. The familiar weight of his arms around her brought a sense of calm that she hadn’t realized she had been missing. "You shouldn’t have, Y/N. The empire... they will come for you."
"I’m done with the empire," she said softly, pulling back to look into his eyes. "I’m done with all of it. I want to be with you."
His gaze softened, but a flicker of doubt passed through his eyes. "But what about your brothers? Your family? You’re leaving everything behind."
She took his hands in hers, squeezing them tightly. "I am leaving the empire behind, Marcus. I am choosing you. I have never been happier than when I am with you. I will follow you, wherever we go."
The weight of her words hung between them, a promise that neither of them would ever break. They stood there for a long time, simply holding each other, knowing that this moment—this love—was all they needed.
In the years that followed, their life together was filled with quiet moments of happiness, but also struggles that tested them both. They built a small farm together, the land harsh but fertile, and over time, the house grew with the addition of their children.
Lucius was the first to be born, a strong-willed boy who took after his father’s fierce determination. He was quick to pick up a sword and began practicing with Marcus from the age of six. Aurelia came next, her sharp mind and quick wit making her a natural leader. Even as a child, she could take charge of any situation, and her mother often found herself marveling at the young woman she was becoming.
Cassian was a dreamer, always lost in his thoughts or in the pages of the books Y/N had secretly saved from her royal life. He wasn’t interested in swordplay or fighting; instead, he dreamed of stories and adventures. But even he had a strong will, and when the time came, he would fight for those he loved.
Junia, their youngest, was the spark that kept the family alive. With her mischievous grin and boundless energy, she reminded them all that even in the darkest times, joy could still be found.
But even as they created a life for themselves, the shadow of the empire was never far behind. Marcus had hoped to fade into obscurity, but his past as a general would always haunt him. And soon, the empire came calling once more.
The years that followed Marcus and Y/N’s decision to live outside the empire were filled with both challenges and moments of quiet happiness. As they watched their children grow, the family created a life rich in love, rooted in the simplicity of the land they had chosen to call home. It wasn’t the grandeur of Rome, nor the power of an empire that shaped their world—it was the warmth of their shared moments, the strength of their love, and the joy of raising their children together.
It was early in the morning when the first rays of sunlight pierced the horizon, casting a soft glow over the land. Marcus and Y/N stood side by side in the garden, their hands intertwined as they watched their children play in the fields. The air was fresh with the scent of wildflowers, and the sound of laughter filled the space between them.
Lucius, now a young man of seventeen, raced after his younger siblings, Aurelia and Cassian, who were in pursuit of a butterfly that fluttered just beyond their reach. Junia, ever the energetic one, hopped in circles, her giggles ringing out as she watched her brothers and sister. It was moments like these that made everything worth it—these simple joys that, even in their most difficult days, filled the family with a sense of peace.
"You know," Y/N said softly, her voice carrying the weight of years of love and gratitude, "when I imagined a life with you, I never imagined this. A home filled with laughter, with children, with peace."
Marcus smiled, his eyes softening as he watched their children. "I never imagined it either. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything."
He leaned down, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "You are my greatest treasure, Y/N. I never knew what it was to truly live until I had you beside me."
Y/N leaned into his touch, her heart swelling with love. "And you, Marcus. I never knew what it was to be truly free until I found you."
They stood there for a moment, silently watching their children. The world outside their home may have been filled with turmoil and uncertainty, but here, in this moment, they had everything they needed. A family, bound by love, and a future that stretched ahead of them, full of possibility.
Later that afternoon, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, the family gathered around a small table outside, their meal simple but filled with warmth. The fire crackled in the background, casting a soft light over their faces. The children chatted excitedly about their day—Lucius had learned how to fish, Aurelia had discovered a hidden grove of trees, and Cassian had spent hours reading the stories that Y/N had brought with her from the city.
"Father," Lucius said, his voice carrying the weight of a young man who had already learned the value of hard work, "how did you know what to do when you were in the army? How did you make those tough decisions?"
Marcus looked at his son, his heart swelling with pride. "It wasn’t always easy, Lucius. The weight of those decisions… it was heavy. But every choice I made, I made with the hope that it would protect the people I loved. And now," he added, his voice softening, "I make my decisions based on the same love, but this time, it’s for all of you."
Lucius nodded, understanding the depth of his father's words. He had learned much from Marcus—not just in skill, but in honor, duty, and love. Aurelia, ever the wise one, placed her hand on his arm.
"Father," she said, "you’ve taught us so much about what truly matters. You’ve shown us how to live, not just survive. And that is something we will carry with us forever."
Cassian, who had been listening intently, looked up from his book. "I think the best lesson you’ve taught me is that it’s okay to dream, even if the world doesn’t always understand. I used to think I had to be like everyone else, but now I know I can be true to who I am."
Marcus smiled, his heart full as he looked around at his children. He and Y/N had given them more than just survival. They had given them a home, a sense of belonging, and the freedom to be themselves.
As the evening wore on, the family sat around the fire, the sounds of nature enveloping them. Marcus reached for Y/N’s hand, squeezing it gently. "Look at them," he said quietly, his voice full of awe. "They’re so full of life, so full of love. We’ve created something beautiful, haven’t we?"
Y/N smiled, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "Yes, we have. They are our greatest creation, Marcus. Our legacy."
Aurelia, ever perceptive, leaned over to her mother. "Do you ever miss Rome, Mother? The life we left behind?"
Y/N paused for a moment, considering her daughter’s question. "Sometimes, I think about it. I think about what could have been, what we might have had. But when I look at this," she said, gesturing to the family gathered around the table, "I know we made the right choice. I have everything I need right here."
Lucius smiled at his mother’s words, his expression thoughtful. "And so do I. I wouldn’t trade this life for anything."
Marcus looked at his children, his heart swelling with love and pride. He had come so far from the man he once was—the soldier who served Rome without question. And now, he was a father, a husband, a man who had built a life worth living, a life where love was the greatest force of all.
As the stars began to twinkle above, and the sounds of the night enveloped them in a peaceful quiet, Marcus stood and held out his hand to Y/N. "Shall we, my love?"
She took his hand, standing beside him as they walked slowly into the night, their children’s laughter echoing behind them. There was no grand empire waiting for them—no throne, no titles, no power. But they had something far more precious: each other. And together, they would face whatever the future held, knowing that as long as they had each other, they would always have everything they needed.
Some time later, the family found themselves gathered in the warm glow of the fire again, the flickering light casting soft shadows across the room. Lucius had returned from his training, Aurelia had spent the day working on their garden, and Cassian, with his book in hand, had wandered out to join the family.
Marcus stood before them, a proud smile on his face. "Your mother and I were talking, and we think it’s time you all start learning about what comes after this life. What comes after the days spent in the fields and the gardens. It’s time you understand that family doesn’t just mean those we’re born to—it means those we choose to protect."
Lucius nodded, his eyes gleaming with a deep understanding of his father’s words. Aurelia set her tools aside, her mind already turning with thoughts of how she could help. Cassian, ever the thoughtful one, placed his book down gently.
Y/N glanced at Marcus, her eyes filled with love, then turned to their children. "We’ve built something strong together. But the world outside this farm won’t always be as kind. You must remember that the true power lies in love and the choices we make—what we give to one another, what we protect with all our hearts."
And as they sat together in the warmth of their small home, surrounded by the peace they had built, they knew that their greatest legacy would be the love they shared, the family they had created, and the lessons they would pass on to the generations that followed.
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yes! love me some mortal x immortal??/god type couples, i think they're cute. It's always sad though when they realize one will outlive the other, unless they do some magical stuff to make the human live just as long or if maybe the god person turns into a human.
I think it'd be so cute for nymph reader to accidentally slip up again before her and marcus officially meet, but she's not quick enough to disguise herself or hide again before marcus sees her so he chases after her and then it's like love at first sight ❤️
Hi, sweetie.
Your idea inspired me to write this…. You can take this as a prologue to Nymph. I thought Marcus could be younger (maybe Javier Peña style?). I hope you like it.
Warnings: fluff, some nudity, not much going on, mythological figures treated in a simple way
A/N: hope you will be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes
nymph. [prologue] l General Marcus Acacius
Nymph [masterlist]
For a moment he thought he was daydreaming. He had to, because his eyes had never seen anything more beautiful.
All the glory of Rome, with all its provinces, with its cities of marble and gold, were nothing compared to what appeared before his eyes.
A being. A woman. Light and luminous like the rays of the sun, so different from what surrounded her, and at the same time seeming to fit there as if she had been created for this place.
He shouldn't be in this place. Marcus immediately felt as if he had sneaked into a temple where men were forbidden to stay, or as if he had spied on something that was supposed to be a closely guarded secret.
That day his legs carried him to these areas outside the camp. He didn't know why, as if the warm wind was pushing him for fun into the thicket of the forest. And when he stood behind a large and old oak tree, he saw the silver surface of the lake and her in front of him.
Beautiful as early morning, naked, sitting on the shore of the lake with her face turned towards the sun. He should have retreated and forgotten about it, but he couldn't help himself.
He took a step forward, very quietly so as not to scare the woman away, but when he passed a blackberry bush, a wild bird got scared and flew out of the branches with a screech.
The girl heard this and immediately stood up abruptly. In the full sunlight, he saw her naked figure, standing proudly, although fear flickered in her eyes. She was like one of the statues in the temples.
Marcus raised a reassuring hand, approaching "Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you."
She didn't say anything. She only gave him an angry look and reached for the flowing robe that was lying on the nearby stones. The soft material wrapped around her body, hiding the beauty of her body from his eyes.
"Are you a goddess?" he asked.
You looked at him over your shoulder. "If I were a goddess, you'd be dead or blind for daring to watch me bathe, mortal." you mocked him.
"So maybe you're a mermaid?" He was already close to you.
The light robes glowed with their own light. It was hard for him to believe that you were real.
"A mermaid?" you laughed. "You really don't know much about the world, but you're sweet." you turned to him with a smile on your face. "I'm a nymph, soldier."
He watched you carefully. Brown, gentle eyes looked at you with reverence. Dark hair, strong body and sun-kissed skin. You've seen many men, this one was really handsome.
"My name is Marcus." His voice was pleasant, low and warm. "I'm Marcus Acacius. I command the Roman troops stationed nearby."
You nodded. "You're everywhere. Even here." you gave him your name though, and he repeated it as if he wanted to check how it tasted on his tongue. "You are not the General of these troops. You are too young."
Marcus frowned dark eyebrows, arrogance flashing from his eyes "I am over thirty years old."
"Still young." you smiled gently and approached him "I am older than the oldest oaks of this forest, than the lake you are looking at." your hand moved over his chest hidden behind his clean, black armor "I knew the heroes of your myths, I served the gods you worship. You are still young, Marcus."
He couldn't take his eyes off you. Every move you made, every grimace, every smile, he wanted to remember it all. His heart was beating hard in his chest, you had to feel it.
"You mortals are truly funny." you continued, your hand sliding to the hilt of the sword at his side. "You confuse sirens with nymphs, you blame gods for your decisions, you call monsters those who weren't."
"Who do you mean?"
Your amused gaze traveled to his handsome face. "Like Medusa."
Marcus rolled his eyes and groaned. "That Gorgon? She was a monster with snakes instead of hair."
"She was a beautiful woman. Neptune possessed her in my lady's temple, which is why Minerva was angry. It was a sacred place." you replied, and although your words were strong, he didn't see the anger in your eyes. You were amused by the naivety of this soldier. "Don't judge a woman for the actions of a man, even if he's a god. She had every right to fly into a rage. Rome does the same, and you serve it. Remember the wrath of Medusa, Marcus."
Your fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. A warm hand rested on yours. Marcus tilted his head slightly.
"If you want to disarm me, you have to give me something in return." he said, a small smile appearing under his dark mustache.
You raised your eyebrows slightly. "Oh, really? What's that?"
"A kiss. One small kiss." His soothing voice penetrated your heart. "Prove to me that you're real."
You considered his words for a moment. Your sisters had often told you about how sweet and handsome mortals tried to charm them just to possess their bodies. Marcus seemed different to you though. You didn't know why, but you liked him.
"That's a big ask." you said, lifting your chin proudly.
"That's also a request from a little boy, as you called me."
You shook your head in disbelief. His impudence was captivating. Finally, you nodded. With your free hand, you reached for his smooth cheek. The skin was warm, you felt his breath on your lips, you could almost hear his heartbeat.
But it wasn't you who gave Marcus a kiss, it was he who stole it from you, pressing himself into your lips as if he wanted to taste the forbidden fruit at all costs. His hand slid into your hair and pulled you closer so that you wouldn't accidentally slip away from his lips.
Warm, soft lips caressed yours, and as soon as you parted your mouth, Marcus took the opportunity and slipped his tongue in, deepening the kiss.
Your legs almost buckled under you. You'd never experienced anything like it. Your body gave in to each kiss, wanting more and more. The solid hilt of the sword in your hand provided your only stability.
Eventually, however, Marcus had to draw his breath. It was at that moment that you drew his sword in one fluid movement and took a few steps back.
"You are too careless for a Roman soldier." You declared, raising his sword towards him.
"You can stab me with it, my sweetest." He replied, his eyes shining in ecstasy. "My life is complete now, I can die."
"You don't know what you're saying."
"My life is a blink of an eye to you. To me, you are equal to the gods."
He noticed your eyes widen, your chest heaving in a sharp breath. The blade trembled, too heavy for your unskilled hand. Marcus caught it and pulled you to him.
When his hand rested on your cheek you let go of his sword, which fell softly onto the grass. His touch was warm, gentle, tender. For a moment you thought that he couldn't be mortal, he had too much power over you.
"How can I live without being able to taste your lips every day?" he asked "Do something about it, or I'll go mad..."
"Your life is a blink of an eye to me..." you whispered feeling his lips brush the corner of your mouth "I'll have to live until the end of the world hungry for your warmth."
You let him experience the taste of your lips again. And Marcus seemed insatiable with you. Strong arms held you tightly, protecting you from sinking to the ground. It lasted maybe minutes, maybe hours.
Marcus spent the whole afternoon with you, talking and listening, laughing and feasting his eyes on the sight of you. His heart was filled with feelings he couldn't name.
However, his life called him to fulfill his duties to the Empire. He reluctantly reached for his sword.
"Will you be here tomorrow? I want to see you again."
You looked at him with tenderness. "I will be. And I will wait for you."
"Promise me."
"I promise."
He kissed your hands with reverence, feasted his eyes on your sight one last time, and then disappeared into the darkening forest, leaving you full of feelings unknown to you.
"My dear child..."
A familiar, calm voice floated to you from nearby. You felt a warm breeze and soon Minerva, your lady, stood by your side. Her armor gleamed in the last rays of the setting sun.
"I didn't think mortals could be like this." You said, staring at the place where Marcus had disappeared. "No one warned me about this..."
"A great future awaits him. His destiny must be fulfilled." the goddess spoke gently.
"Marcus will do great things. Many lives are already tied to him..." your voice broke, tears welling up in your eyes "My lady..."
Minerva looked at you softly, her eyes full of infinite wisdom. No one and nothing could hide from her.
"Take this from me." you whispered, with each word your heart shattering into pieces "Take from me what doesn’t belong to me. Take him."
"Do you know what you are asking, child?" Minerva's face was gentle but determined "You don’t know his full destiny. This mortal loves you, his heart is pure. He will come here tomorrow, for you."
"My lady, we are not destined for what we both desire... And I don't want to watch life slip away from his eyes. Please..." tears were already running down your cheeks, but you didn't feel ashamed, it only proved what you felt "Please make him forget about me and take him out of my head too. It was a beautiful day, but I don't want to take away what is destined for him..."
"Are you sure? Will you deprive yourself of this love?"
You nodded. This decision was painful, but you couldn't do otherwise. Marcus was supposed to have a bright future, full of victories and glory. There was no place for you there.
"Let it be so, child." the goddess's hand, hot as the sun's rays, touched your cheek, Minerva leaned down and her lips brushed your forehead "Forget it, it is my will. Let this feeling fly away from you if it is not meant for you. And tomorrow, when he opens his eyes at dawn, he will no longer remember what happened here. May destiny be fulfilled."
When the first rays of sunlight crept lazily into the camp tent, Marcus rubbed his eyes and stretched on the bed. A strange feeling of emptiness and loss filled his heart. He had the impression that he had lost something precious, something that he would never get back.
nymph. [1/2] l General Marcus Acacius
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#pedro pascal#general marcus acacius#marcus acacius#marcus acacius x reader#gladiator ii#joel miller#gladiator 2#general acacius x reader#general acacius#Nymph series
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The Panic of Love (one-shot)
Synopsis: Emotions don't come easy to Carmen. They never have. But when his feelings come to a boiling point, it's not like a pot on a stove you can close. They spill out. And change everything. The question is - is he ready to face that change?
Pairing: Carmen (Carmy) barzatto x fem!roommate!Reader
Genre: fluff, a bit of angst, SMUT (softest smut I've ever written)
Warnings: swearing, Carmy being hard on himself, SMUT
Word count: 7929
The weather channel was a goddamned fucking liar, and the weatherman too.
When Y/N finally entered The Bear, she was soaked to the bone, teeth chattering, and every possible expletive on the tip of her tongue because all the weatherman had said was it’d be cloudy. Not a fucking hurricane in sight. What a load of bullshit that had been.
It was a Saturday, her day off, unlike Carmen’s, the man who’d been her roommate for the past year, and when he’d left early in the morning, the Chicago sky still dark and void of any sun rays, she’d said she’d stop by for some of Marcus’s doughnuts and maybe a sandwich to take back home.
Carmen had raised a brow at her. “You know if you want a sandwich, all you have to do is ask, right?”
Y/N scoffed, rolling over and snuggling into her pillow. “You spend your whole day cooking food. I’m not going to make you work when you’re home.”
“No, really, I don’t mind –,”
“Nope.” She just shook her head. “Home is for relaxing, not working. Besides, kinda wanted to go on a walk today anyway. This will give me a reason to.”
Now though she wanted the weather channel to get struck by lightning. And the weatherman too.
“Well, you look like you just crawled out of a sewer,” Richie, Carmen’s cousin who he run The Bear with, said with a smirk.
The thunder that rumbled outside matched the look on Y/N’s face. “Fuck off, maybe?”
Richie just chuckled. “Coffee?”
“Yes please,” she sighed and eyed the menu above. She’d been to The Bear a few times, even before she’d gotten Carmen as a roommate, but always liked to try something new. Maybe a staple this time. “Carmy said Marcus was working on some doughnuts?”
Richie hummed in confirmation while he poured her a to-go cup of steaming bean juice. “Just in time for the batch to come out, actually.”
And it was like those had been the magic words as she saw Carmen with a big pan enter the front of the house, placing the still-warm circles of heaven behind the glass. He was about to rush back into the kitchen, but he lifted his gaze for just a split second, Y/N’s Y/E/C eyes meeting his striking blue ones, and stopped dead in his tracks.
“The fuck happened to you?” His tone wasn’t harsh, more so concerned as she surveyed her from where she was leaving an unmistakable puddle underneath her.
“Went for a swim?” She shrugged. “There was nothing in the morning news about a bloody tsunami, so I didn’t take an umbrella. It only started raining when I was halfway here. It’s not like I was gonna turn back around.”
Richie put her coffee on the countertop with a smirk, as he eyed Y/N and his cousin. He turned his mischievous eyes towards her. “How many?”
“Four,” she replied, putting her hand in the inside pocket of her jacket where her wallet sat. Even that was soaked through. “And the Italian beef sandwich as well, please.”
Carmen stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, and Y/N couldn’t deny that the way his biceps flexed was anything short of salivating worthy, so much so she had to avert her gaze towards the box Richie was filling.
“You gonna make her the sandwich, cousin?”
“Not if she plans on going home with it.”
“Why not?” Y/N snapped her head towards him, her tone like an offended child’s.
Carmen scoffed. “As if I’d ever let you go out in that torrential rain.” He nudged with his chin to the weather outside. “Give me a plate, she’ll have it in my office.”
“Carmy, I’m not the Wicked Witch of the West. I won’t melt.” Y/N sighed but gave him a soft smile.
His own lips tugged up at the corners, voice much more gentle now. “And I’m not gonna let you get sick. Now come on. You can eat the sandwich in the office and put the clothes on the heaters to dry out. I have some spare ones I can give you.”
“Bear,” she started, but he already had put the made sandwich on the plate and was waiting for her to follow.
With a deep sigh, Y/N hung her head and grabbed the box of doughnuts and her coffee.
“Sorry for the puddle,” she said over her shoulder to Richie.
“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll just tell everyone you peed yourself.”
All Y/N did was flip him the bird before entering the kitchen.
She’d met the chefs a few times when Carmen had invided her to family, and she truly loved each and every one of them. Sydney, Tina, and Sugar had even added Y/N to their group chat, but their interactions in real life were limited to moments like these or when they came to Carmen’s and her apartment to try out some new recipe on a day off. Carmen usually regretted introducing his roommate to them because absolute chaos reigned then.
“You do know swimming in clothes is dangerous, right?” Marcus called from the back of the kitchen where he was rolling out some dough.
“Ha ha, very funny. Just remember,” she shook the box in her hands in his direction. “The fate of your doughnut recipe is in my hands.”
“Be gentle with me, I’m sensitive,” Marcus said, making Y/N snort, and Sydney rolled her eyes from where she was concentrating on chopping up some vegetables but waving at her in greeting nonetheless.
“Don’t you look like a New York rat,” Sugar chuckled as she appeared from the freezer, Tina on her toes.
“Thanks, it’s my new aesthetic,” Y/N batted her eyelashes, and she would’ve continued to stand there and talk with everyone else had Carmen not nudged her in the side and wrapped an arm around her waist, turning her towards the office.
“You need to get in some dry clothes, and then you can blabber about. Don’t need you to catch death.”
Y/N looked at him, raising a brow. “Yes, because I act as if I’m dying when I get the sniffles. Not you. No, never you.”
“Just get in the office.” But the smile on Carmen’s face was unmistakable.
He placed her sandwich on top of a stack of papers, not really caring about them and went to rummage in his backpack where he’d put a spare pair of sweats and a jumper, he’d worn underneath his jacket that morning. Winter was approaching Chicago, so layering was starting to become a standard.
Carmen sat down on the chair, untying the laces of her boots. “Come on, step out of them. Socks too.”
Y/N did as told and tried to keep her thoughts at a PG-13 kind of a place, but Carmen, almost on his knees before her, did horrible things to her mind. Horrible, terrible, salacious, delicious things.
She put her hands on his shoulders and rested against them, hopping out of the squelching boots and letting him put some warm woollen socks on her feet he’d also placed in the backpack with him.
Once that was done, he went to the heater and put the wet boots and socks below it, giving Y/N the change of clothes and showing where the bathroom was.
When she was back in his office, not without a sly look from Syd, to which she just grumbled, “Don’t you dare start,” he pointed at the chair and made her sit down.
“Now you’ll eat your sandwich and doughnuts, drink your coffee, and I’ll let you leave only when the rain stops,” he instructed her like she was one of his chefs.
“But I feel bad,” Y/N whined. “It’s already shitty enough I’ve intruded on you and taken you away from work, I don’t want to inconvenience you more as is.”
His brow furrowed immediately at her words. “Don’t say that. You’re never an inconvenience, you hear? Never.”
For a moment, it seemed like he was going to say something more, but shook his head no. “Eat your food, drink your coffee and relax, okay?”
“Okay,” Y/N whispered back with a gentle smile, her heart thudding just a bit harder against her ribcage at his words, at his caring. “Thank you, Bear.”
With a small nod and a smile, he left Y/N and ventured back into the chaos of The Bear’s kitchen.
Suddenly, the sandwich tasted a million times better.
***
When he finally got home, Carmen was exhausted. Those couple of hours Y/N had spent at The Bear with him were the most reprieve he’d had from stress in ages. Though he was upset she’d gotten soaked through and not looking forward to the cold she was gonna get after braving that weather, he couldn’t deny the warmth that’d settled in his chest when he’d seen her face at the front of the house. However, all those warm feelings turned into dust when he saw what Y/N had made for herself for dinner.
“What the fuck is that?”
Y/N jumped back from the fridge, a hand against her heart. “Jesus fucking Christ, Carmy! You scared me shitless. When did you come home?”
“I asked, what the fuck is that?” His eyes didn’t waver away from the plate on the counter. Two string cheeses, five pickles, a Reeces Pieces cup, a dollop of Biscoff spread and some breadsticks. It was like the world’s worst charcuterie board to which Y/N was just about to add two slices of pepperoni.
As if in slow motion, Y/N turned her head to look at the plate and then back at him. “Girl dinner?” the statement came out more like a question.
“Girl what?”
“You know, girl dinner.” She shrugged, closing the fridge, and plopping the round pieces of meat onto it.
“No,” he shook his head. “Absolutely not. First, you come to the restaurant soaking wet and probably have pneumonia, and now this sort of bullshit? Not on my watch.”
He tried to reach for the plate, but Y/N was quicker, grabbing it and sprinting underneath Carmy to the sofa.
“Y/N, give it to me, and I’ll make you something of substance.”
“This is substance.” She popped a pickle in her mouth and chewed it.
Carmen huffed, placing his hands on his hips. “Why the hell are you so against me making you some normal food, yet instead you eat… that.”
“What do you mean by that? This is a fully balanced meal – main course,” she pointed at the savory things, “and dessert,” at the sweet things. “Perfectly balanced as all things should be.”
“Don’t quote Thanos at me,” Carmen shook his head. “That’s not doing you any favors right now. Now, give that to me, and I’ll make anything you want.”
Y/N moved the plate behind herself, still standing atop the couch and squinting at him in a challenge. “Make me.”
Something rushed through his body, a flash of heat so intense it almost took his breath away. And call him crazy, but he was almost a hundred per cent sure he saw something glint in her eyes as well, a certain need, but he shook those thoughts away.
Carmen sighed and hung his head. “Please give that plate to me, okay?”
“And what if I want my pickles and cheese?”
“Why do you want to torture me? What did I ever do to you?” but he said that with a chuckle, and his heart skipped a beat as a smile bloomed on Y/N’s face.
“And I told you in the morning,” she hopped off the couch and popped a half a Reece’s in her mouth, “I will not let you cook for me. You’ve done enough of that at work, so sit down and just relax. I won’t perish like some sickly Victorian child if I don’t have proper dinner every now and then.”
He glowered as she passed him and poured herself a cup of water. “And how many times have you exactly had this “girl dinner?””
They continued on like that for close to two weeks – he’d get home, and Y/N would rush to hide what was on her plate before he scolded her. It all came crashing down one evening when he’d walked inside the bathroom, ready to take a shower after a gruelling day at work when he noticed the changes.
“Y/N?” he called out, still holding the shirt and pants he’d taken off in his hands, eyes scanning the little shelf of his stuff. “Can you please come in here?”
He heard the quick pattering of feet before a breathless Y/N appeared around the corner, a strappy sleep top and shorts on with a half-eaten pickle in her hand. Her and her damned pickles. “What? What’s wrong?”
“That.” He nudged his chin towards the shelf. “Where’s all my stuff?”
“That is your stuff.”
“No,” his brow furrowed. “I literally have one shampoo bottle. This is like – twenty different things. Where did they come from?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not twenty, it’s exactly how many one person needs. Besides, you ran out. So, I went to the store and got you some.”
Carmen stammered, still scanning the bottles, but his heart was beating faster in his chest now. She’d gotten them for him without him even asking. She’d thought of him when she’d gone out to the store. He stuttered for a second before looking at the girl leaning against the door frame, chewing on the last bits of the pickle. “At ��� at least let me pay you back.”
“Absolutely not,” she scoffed, truly offended now. “You don’t let me eat "girl dinner", which, by the way, I enjoy, but I digress. So, don’t think I’m gonna let you use that 10-in-1 abomination." She pointed at two matching bottles. "Shampoo and conditioner, both specifically for curly hair because god knows what you’ve been doing to them is abuse. Body wash and face wash, and no, they cannot be used interchangeably.” She pointed at the other two bottles, explaining what was what and turning around to where on the towel rack three fluffy ones had been placed, all different sizes and colors. “A towel for your body, one for your hair and one for your face.”
“That’s way too many towels.”
“No, that’s precisely the right amount of towels,” she emphasized.
“Y/N…”
“Okay, fine. If you don’t want any of this, no problem.” She shrugged. “Can I go eat my pickles and cheese strings then?”
Immediately, his exasperated look turned into a dark scowl. “Don’t you fucking dare.” He’d already popped a handmade pizza in the oven and had simply allowed Y/N to snack in the meantime. No "girl dinner" on his watch.
All Y/N did was smirk. “Thought so. It’s called a compromise, Carmy,” she squeezed his bicep. “You take care of me, I take care of you, simple as that. Besides, I ran out of my stuff, so it made sense to pick up some stuff for you too.”
And with a peck on his cheek, Y/N left the bathroom, going to rummage in her closet for a blanket for their movie night. But Carmen just stood there, looking at the place where she’d just been.
You take care of me, I take care of you.
Those words echoed in his head like a broken record.
But that’s what they had been doing for one another, wasn’t it? He took care of her, she took care of him.
He made sure she ate proper food and gave her some spare clothes that one morning so she wouldn’t have to brave the rain and get sick. He’d let her stay in the office, clad in his jumper and sweats as she waited for her socks and shoes to dry out. He held her on the nights when the heating turned off in the apartment, and she was shivering in her bed. He helped her through insomnia-filled nights Y/N tended to have when stress from work wound her up to the point she could barely function even though he was dead tired himself.
And Y/N... she always made sure he didn’t bottle up his emotions. She was there for him, listened to his rants, held him when he needed just that, and made sure he always had food in the fridge, not just some pathetic scraps he put together for his own meals. She helped him do the laundry and never complained when instead of their set movie night, he simply came home and collapsed half on top of her on the sofa, dead tired from the shift at The Bear, running her hands over his tired muscles and letting him drift off to sleep in her safe embrace.
They took care of one another.
But not just that.
No.
Not for him.
Because Carmen knew - to him it meant so much more.
He knew he was completely in love with her and would do anything to make sure she was happy.
He peeked out from the bathroom and into the living room, looking at Y/N, how she flitted around the room, leaving chaos behind herself, but god, did he love that chaos. Carmen hadn’t even realized up until that moment, how much he wanted to see her strewn about clothes on the couch, her scattered shoes and used mugs on the countertops. Because it made him feel like he was truly home. Not just in a house he stayed at. Home.
She was his home.
Carmen had entered the living room, standing by the couch and watching how Y/N pulled the pizza out of the oven, dicing up some basil to sprinkle on the still bubbling cheese and tomato sauce while adding some burger sauce on the half she’d claimed as hers, leaving Carmen’s half free for him to add what he wanted.
She turned around in search of the pizza cutter and lifted her eyes, their gazes locking. “You okay, Bear?”
He just stood there, unable to move or speak as his mind ran a mile a minute. And then a string wrapped around his chest and started to tighten. And he couldn’t breathe anymore.
Carmen doesn’t remember when exactly he dropped to his knees, pain shooting up his legs from smashing onto the tiled kitchen floor, but he didn’t drop fully. Y/N’s hands were instantly on his shoulders, palms rushing to cup his face as she tried to figure out what was going on. He didn’t doubt she found pure panic in his eyes. Instantly, she knew what to do.
“Breathe with me, okay?” She took his palm and pressed it to the centre of her chest, his fingers splayed against the skin. “Just breathe.”
And he tried to mimic her, focus on how her chest rose and fell, matching his own breathing to Y/N’s. Feel how her heart beat underneath her skin.
Pathetic, he thought. He can’t even tell the girl he’s in love with his feelings without having a full-blown panic attack.
“Carmy, breathe,” she soothed, pulling his forehead to hers, letting him ground himself in the physical contact Y/N provided. She was solid. Real. There.
Bit by bit, he felt the huge wave of panic recede, but it lingered, like a tsunami waiting to break and rip everything away in its wake.
“What happened?” her voice was low as if she was talking to a wild animal afraid to spook it. “What brought this on?”
“I don’t – I,” he took in greedy gulps of air as Y/N rubbed his back. “I can’t…”
Because he couldn’t. It would ruin everything, wouldn’t it? They had such a good thing going not only as roommates, but as friends, and him confessing he was in love would just shatter that bit of normalcy, and stability he’d managed to create.
Besides, Y/N would never feel the same way about him. Yes, she was kind and sweet and always made sure Carmen took care of himself, but that’s just who she was as a person.
Her grip on the back of his neck tightened, stopping the spiral his mind was falling into.
“Talk to me.” She whispered. “Please, Carmy, talk to me. I need to know what happened so I can help you.”
“I can’t tell you,” he finally got out in between gasps of air. “I can’t. Please don’t make me say it.”
He was shaking his head, but not pulling away. Not that she’d let him, as her nails slowly and gently scraped along the nape of his neck.
“What’s so bad that you can’t tell me?” Y/N murmured.
“It’s not,” he huffed, trying to get a grip on his words. “It’s not bad… I – I don’t think it’s bad…”
“Then why can’t you tell me?”
He bit down hard on his lip, taking a moment to collect himself. “Because it will change things. And I’m scared of how it could change.”
“But change isn’t always so bad. Just look at The Bear, look at how good the restaurant is doing.”
“This is nothing like the restaurant.”
“Then how is it?”
He thought for a moment, eyes closed, focusing on Y/N and her presence.
“Bear, please talk to me. You just had a fucking panic attack seemingly from nowhere, and I’m – I’m scared,” she pleaded.
His eyes snapped up to meet her incredibly worried ones, and yes, scared. She tried to read whatever was on his face, to find an explanation as to what had set it off.
“I – I’m terrified. I’m so fucking terrified,” he whispered.
“It’s okay to feel that way. But I’m here, okay? I won’t let you go through this alone.”
He took in a shuddering breath, breaking their eye contact because he couldn’t do it, not if she was looking at him so intensely. The words were barely audible, but she most definitely heard them. “I’m in love with you.”
There. He’d said it, and he couldn’t take those words back. They were out in the open, and the ball was in Y/N’s court. But to his surprise, her forehead didn't move from his. He could feel the light puffs of air as she breathed out, a slight stutter in the pattern. “And why were you so scared to tell me that?”
“I – I don’t,” and his brain started to swirl again, but Y/N was there, her gentle fingers playing with the small hairs at the nape of his neck, grounding him back in reality. Carmen took a deep breath. “I’m so scared. Of what you’ll say. I can’t lose you, I can’t lose one more person I love. But I also know you deserve so much better than what I can offer. I’m a mess. I can’t afford much. I can’t give you what you deserve. I can barely deal with my emotions, and I have so many issues I sometimes wonder how I’m not completely on my own… But… and I know how selfish this sounds, but I don’t want you to want better… I want you to want me the same way I want you… how need you.”
“Carmy,” Y/N sighed brushing her hand against his cheek. “You will never lose me, alright? Never. As long as you want me around you, I’ll be here. I think you could kill someone, and I’d be there for you to help and get rid of the body. As for that other thing…” she bit her lip. “I don’t think I could ever find anything better than you. Nor do I want to. Not when I already have found you.”
That’s when his eyes finally opened, her Y/E/C ones gazing at him. She gave him a shy smile. “Call us two pathetic clichés for falling for the roommate, but the thought of you going on a date with someone else would probably send me into a complete spiral. Because I do want you the same way you want me. If you’ll have me.”
And that horrible, suffocating tightness in Carmen’s chest released. It was like after years of barely breathing, he could finally get a breath in, and the air tasted so fresh, so filling, it was intoxicating. A drowning man finally coming up for air.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Y/N chuckled, her thumb brushing against his cheek. “I don’t buy shampoos and body washes and all that shit just for anyone. They were fucking expensive.”
His responding laughter was light. He felt so fucking light, it was amazing.
“I really want to kiss you,” Carmen’s voice was more confident, though still tentative as if he was afraid to push further and cross some boundary, eyes flitting to the ground.
He could hear her small intake of breath before Y/N said, “Well, I’m definitely not ever going to be opposed to that.”
Gradually, his palms roved over her waist and settled against her cheeks, their eyes not breaking away from one another.
Another wave of fear rushed through him, but when Y/N’s fingers splayed themselves against the small of his back, trying to push him closer to her, those fears were diminished. For a minute, he just breathed her in, drank in the feeling of having her so close to him, but when he finally kissed her, when he finally had her lips against his, he pretty much melted. The way her hands wove around his neck and into his hair, as if Y/N couldn’t get closer to him if she tried, was as close to heaven as he’d ever get in this life.
“Can I take you to bed?” His head was spinning as he pulled back for a breath, lips craving to be put back on Y/N’s, but he’d die if he at least didn’t ask. Carmen was trembling so bad he had to bury his face in her neck for a moment to steel himself.
“Are you sure?” Y/N asked, breathless, chest heaving, fingers digging into the bare muscles of his back.
She knew he’d never had a relationship, and what he’d just done – the confession, the kiss - had been a huge step on its own. But when he finally pulled back, and she scanned his eyes, looked deep into them, Carmen knew all she saw was one hundred per cent conviction. He couldn’t deny the pleasure it elicited in him as he felt a shiver run through Y/N’s body at that, her pupils blowing so wide it almost swallowed the Y/E/C color, two black desire-filled pools devouring him.
“Never been more sure of anything.” His voice was low, and soft, but steady, unlike his heart.
Her responding kiss was more than enough of an answer.
Carmen was shirtless, so he thought it to be only fair if he rid Y/N of her shirt, but she was a lot quicker and had it yanked over her head in a split second, so much so he barely noticed the disconnect between their lips, and then she was back on him again. They kissed for a little bit more before he practically itched to take it to the bed.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and helped her stand, and Y/N hissed.
Worry instantly ate at him, making him pull back and scan her from head to toe. “What’s wrong?”
She straightened out, rubbing at her knees. “Making out on the kitchen tiles does nothing for your knees.”
Once again, that tightness starting to coil around his heart, released as he intertwined their fingers and led her to his room. It was simply closer. Carmen could have done with the couch, but he thought she deserved their first time to be on an actual bed where he could properly show just how deep his feelings ran. If saying what he felt was so difficult, maybe showing would be easier for him.
Along the way, he’d rid her of her bra, letting his hands explore Y/N’s body and figuring out what made her sigh and moan and what she didn’t like, so he could focus on doing exactly what made her lose her mind.
He helped her shimmy out of her shorts and threw them somewhere over his shoulder as they stumbled into the room, and she plopped backwards onto the bed.
Carmen leaned over her, hands resting by her head while Y/N pulled him back down to kiss him again. He knew his vices, like cigarettes, but this had to be the newest one, the strongest one he knew he’d never be able to quit now that he’d gotten a taste. Never wanted to quit.
A shrill ring stopped them dead in their tracks. It took him a moment to understand it was his phone ringing.
“Stupid fucking piece of shit,” he grumbled as he peeled himself off Y/N and rummaged through his jacket pockets to find the offending piece of technology. Not even looking at who was calling, he turned the phone completely off so there were no more disturbances.
When he turned back around, he found Y/N kicking her underwear to the ground and crawling onto the duvet.
“I wanted to do that,” he murmured, seeing her naked on his bed.
Y/N raised a brow. “Would you like me to put them back on?”
“Absolutely fucking not, I’m not an idiot.”
Her responding smile made his heart soar.
In an instant, he was back atop her, kissing and grabbing at whatever he could before he slowly traveled down. Carmen relished in the hitch in her breath and the soft way she pleaded his name.
He could spend forever like that – worshipping against her skin. He didn’t need water, didn’t need food or anything else as long as Y/N allowed him to do stay by her side.
Digging his fingers into her thighs, Carmen spread them wide as he made his way down her body before he found himself right where he’d wanted to be for ages now.
“Carmy, wait,” she breathed out, and he instantly stopped, worry blooming in his chest.
“I -,” she huffed. “I want tonight to be about you. It should be about you, not me.”
“Oh, believe me,” he smiled, kissing and biting down on the inside of her thigh before soothing the bite with a kiss, and Y/N’s hips were already rolling up to meet his mouth. “All of this is for me.”
She could do nothing but whimper out, “All for you, only you, Bear,” and let her eyes roll to the back of her head as he finally put his mouth on her.
Maybe later on, he’d confess how many times he’d actually thought about that moment, of having Y/N’s legs over his shoulders with her hands brushing his hair out of his face and tugging at the strands. How he’d dreamt of letting his tongue lick into her and finally taste the best dessert on the planet. Or how he’d once seen her early in the morning with nothing but one of his shirts, that’d gotten mixed up in the wash, a simple pair of cotton panties on and nothing else. He’d had to go back inside the shower and jerk himself off, otherwise, he’d be sporting a raging hard-on for the rest of the day.
But now – now he’d just be enjoying the moment. Revelling in how Y/N’s heels dug into his back, how she tried to pull him closer to herself as if she wanted them to mould together. Relishing in how her nails scraped against his scalp, his tongue circling around her clit while her hips gently rolled against him in a slow rhythm. But most importantly – how she sang his name like a prayer, how she sighed and moaned it into the night air, a symphony only for him to hear.
“Carmy, shit!” Y/N gasped when two thick digits joined and slowly slid inside her.
He lifted two lustful eyes to watch how her mouth dropped open, breasts heaving, and nipples hardened to points, but the most divine moment was when she opened her eyes and looked down at him.
Their gazes met, and it took just a couple of thrusts of his fingers for the Y/E/C eyes to roll to the back of her head, and she was squeezing tight around him, cumming with a moan of his name.
Carmen didn’t let go. He helped her ride out the high, tongue licking and sucking everything Y/N offered like he’d been a man in a drought. Only when she gently tugged his head away, did he let go of her swollen clit.
“Too much,” she whispered out, trying to regain some sense of bearing while he kissed the inside of her thighs. He rested a cheek against one while she carded her fingers through his hair, strands stuck to his sweaty skin.
Finally, Y/N glanced down at him. She extended an awaiting hand. “C’mere please.”
Carmen couldn’t say no. He’d never be able to say no to her. He didn’t want to. If she asked him to kiss her, he’d kiss her breathless. If she asked him to drop to his knees, he’d worship the ground she walked on. If she asked him to say he loved her, he’d give his heart to her on a silver platter. Or maybe not. It was already in her hands, and for the first time in his life, he knew someone would carry it on velvet hands, take care of it, and love it like he’d so desperately hoped.
Y/N moaned when his tongue invaded her mouth, hands cradling his face, the remnants of her orgasm still on his tongue. Her hands grabbed at his ass as if offended he was still in his boxers as she pushed her fingers behind the band and tried to shimmy them off him.
A light chuckle escaped him at her frustration, so to stop her torture, he helped her out by removing the last bit of clothing left between them. Now they were skin to skin with nothing else separating the two.
“Condom?” she asked.
“Shit, I don’t have any,” he muttered, pulling back from the kiss.
“Neither do I.”
For a moment, everything stood still. “Listen, we don’t have to do this,” he said, nervousness overtaking his body. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to just because of what happened right now.”
“I mean,” she huffed, playing with the hair on the back of his neck. “I’m clean. Are – are you?”
Carmen snorted. “I think it’s fair to say, I am clean since I haven’t been with anyone in forever… not like this.” Another wave of anxiety rolled over him, but Y/N instantly quenched his fears of inadequacy that threatened to overtake him.
“I mean, maybe you’re some midnight Casanova I just don’t know about it.”
That made him smile, and a little bit of anxiety left him.
“We don’t have to go any further than this if you don’t want to, but I’m on the pill, and I don’t mind.” She pecked his lips. “We go at your pace.”
“And what if – what if I want to go further? What if I want it to be with you? All of it with you?”
He saw Y/N swallow and nod. “Then we go however far you want. Just as long as you’re sure about it.”
“I just…” He struggled to find the words before settling on a thought. “Can you just… guide me?” he asked, brushing a finger against her collarbone. “Help me make you feel good?”
“It should be good for you too. So…” She pulled him down for a kiss, biting on his lower lip and making him groan. “Don’t worry too much about me. You just gave me the best head I’ve ever had. Now I want you to feel good too.”
Carmen just nodded before he leaned down and placed soft kisses against her neck. He was so overwhelmed by love, by the care Y/N showed him, that he thought he might cry, but she didn’t let him get to it.
When soft hands wrapped around his length, he automatically thrust into the palm, pleasure running through his blood.
She guided him closer, and he took it as a sign to slowly run his cock through her folds. Y/N was already wet from her first orgasm, but as he nudged himself inside, he saw her wince.
“I’m sorry,” he immediately apologized, but she shushed him.
“Just take it slow.” She gave him a small smile. “It’s okay.”
He swallowed. “Are you sure?”
Y/N nodded, giving him a kiss. “It’s just been a while.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re not gonna hurt me.” Y/N placed her palm against his cheek. “You could never hurt me.”
After a moment of reassurance, he locked his eyes on her face once more and slowly started to push in again. She helped along, angling her hips a bit more up as he slowly, taking his time, let himself slide into her, Y/N’s walls stretching and adjusting to his girth and length. Carmen felt every ripple, every squeeze and flutter and had she not been begging for him to go all the way in, he probably would’ve just cum then and there.
Finally, their hips rested flush against one another as he slid all the way in. More sweat sprung along his skin, as Carmen tried to hold himself at bay, letting Y/N adjust. The last thing he’d ever want to do is cause her any type of pain. Even make her a tiny bit uncomfortable, so he’d wait until she said she was ready.
She lifted his head from where he rested it against her shoulder, giving him a long kiss. “You can move,” she whispered, gliding her legs up his and letting them cross against his lower back. “Please move.”
And although Y/N'd said to not worry too much about whether she was enjoying herself, Carmen couldn’t do that. Every spare second was spent looking at her face, watching how her eyebrows scrunched in pleasure or how her mouth opened in a moan of his name, because her being in pleasure gave him pleasure.
More sweat sprung along their skins, covering them in a small layer of perspiration, and Carmen kissed Y/N’s chest taking in the salty taste, biting at her neck, her lips and arms, while drowning in the feeling of how her nails dug into his back, and her teeth bit against his shoulder as if she needed to muffle screams of pleasure, marking him as hers.
Every flutter and squeeze against his cock sent more and more ripples of bliss through him, but it was the way she sighed his name, so full of adoration and pleasure and love, that did it for him.
White exploded across his vision as the tight coil that’d been rolling together in his abdomen finally released. His fingers dug into Y/N’s skin harder, anchoring him to the moment and not letting him slip away, making him tether himself to her and what had just transpired, while she tumbled along, a high-pitched whine ringing through the night, her hips locking his in place as she rode out her own orgasm.
It felt like it took ages for him to come back down to reality, chest heaving, tightly pressed to the woman’s underneath him, his hands digging into the soft flesh of her hips with his mouth open in a faltered breath.
His whole body felt like it was made of jelly, his bones turned liquid, and the only thing keeping him from melting fully was Y/N’s soft motions as she dragged her fingers across his back, soothing where her nails had dug into his back so deliciously.
“Was that – was that good… for you?” the words were timid, his eyes unsure as he searched Y/N’s face for any signs she hadn’t enjoyed it.
Her hand lightly rested against his cheek, eyes still closed, a blissful smile on her face. “Ask me that again when I remember how to speak English.”
Carmen’s heart fluttered, and a bashful smile bloomed on his kiss-swollen lips. “You are speaking English.”
Finally, Y/N’s eyes opened, a glazed, almost drunk look to them. “Really? Because you’ve definitely scrambled my brain. Holy shit, Bear.”
He chuckled and leaned in to press a kiss against her lips, a satisfied hum escaping her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and using his body as a blanket.
After a bit of coaxing from him, Y/N relented and let him go, so he could make sure she went into the bathroom and peed. He might not have much experience sexually or relationshipwise, but he knew the basics and didn’t want her to get a UTI.
He waited for her by the door, and when she exited, probably having expected him to be in bed, the soft smile on her lips made the butterflies in his stomach roil.
“Hungry?” Carmen allowed himself to touch her, a gentle finger running along her collarbone. “We still have that pizza. It’s probably cold by now though.”
She shrugged. “I’ll never say no to pizza.”
“You did yesterday.”
“Because I’d already eaten!”
Carmen scoffed. “A jar of olives is not a meal!”
***
The next day was Sunday which meant Y/N still had a day off, and Carmen had promised he’d sleep in with her even though he needed to open The Bear. They’d spent the rest of the night talking and kissing and having more mind-blowing sex, only drifting off when the sun began to rise. But their rest didn’t last long.
She woke with a start, ripping herself away from Carmen’s warm hold, the cold air instantly making goosebumps appear on her skin. He was up in an instant as well, a warm palm settling on her back as Y/N glared through the wall to the front door.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” she grumbled rubbing at her eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with people.”
“I’ll get it,” Carmen mumbled, a bit more awake as his natural body clock had already brought him out from the deep slumber. Pressing a kiss against her shoulder, a pleasant shiver ran through her body, as he helped her lay back down beneath the duvet. “Be back in a second.”
Y/N could hear his feet patter against the floor as he went to the small cupboard and fished out some clean underwear. Call her a perv, but she couldn’t not take a peek and admire Carmen’s ass. A smirk came on her face when she realized she’d left some marks there as well, reddish half-moon imprints of her nails settled deep into the skin. Though it didn’t seem he minded it one bit.
Snuggling deeper into the bed, she closed her eyes and waited for Carmen to come back and join her, though once she heard who was at the door, Y/N knew that wouldn’t happen.
There was slight murmuring for a couple of moments when a loud cackle interrupted the Sunday morning peace.
“Fucking finally, cousin!” Richie’s voice boomed across the apartment and into the bedroom. “Y/N, I hope he treated you right!”
“He treated me perfectly,” she hollered back, understanding there would be no sleeping in anymore. She grabbed one of Carmen’s shirts, fished out a spare pair of his boxers and entered the living room where she found the two – Richie outside in the hallway with the smuggest grin on his face, Carmen with an adorable flush to his cheeks, as he crossed his arms and looked down at the ground, slightly shuffling.
“And I would like a repeat of it,” Y/N grumbled, “but that won’t happen because if you don’t leave right now, I will spend the rest of my life in prison for murder, and I highly doubt they’d let Carmy come on such visits.”
Richie lifted his hands in mock surrender. “I just came to check on dear cousin here. He's never missed his opening shifts, and his phone was completely off. But now I see he was… preoccupied.”
Y/N groaned looking at the clock. She knew it was early, but not six a.m. early. “Murder is illegal, murder is illegal, murder is illegal,” she chanted under her breath as she put on a coffee pot to brew. “Why the fuck is murder illegal?”
“Relax,” Richie chuckled. “No need to resort to violence, I’m already leaving. See you at the kitchen? Actually,” he snapped his fingers and pointed at Carmen. “I’d rather not. We’ll take care of it. You two crazy kids enjoy yourselves.”
“Richie, no I’ll be, there in a couple of hours, just let me -,”
“Nope,” he interrupted his cousin. “Syd will be more than happy to take the lead. Especially, after I tell her why our Carmy was late.”
The aforementioned man dragged a hand down his now scarlet face. “Can you just fucking leave then?”
“I’m going, I’m going.” Richie retreated, and Carmen had almost closed the door when he called out, “Use protection!” and chucked a handful of condoms through the slit.
A louf “fuck you!” was the response he got, and the door finally closed, though they did hear a muffled “I’d rather you fuck each other!” before footsteps retreated down the staircase.
Y/N huffed, taking two cups and filling them with the now-ready coffee, adding two sugars, milk and a dash of brownie syrup to hers. “How upset would you be exactly if I decided to just lightly maim your cousin?”
“Can I help?” Carmen asked with a raised brow, and that elicited a snort from her as she leaned to rest her back against his chest, while two large arms snaked around her waist, and Carmen placed his chin on her shoulder.
“I like my clothes on you, but I gotta admit,” he shyly murmured. “Kinda liked it when you were without any better.”
Y/N’s eyes glimmered as she looked at him through her lashes over her shoulder. “You have every chance to remedy that. I mean, you do have the day off.”
Carmen leaned in and pressed a hot kiss to the side of her neck, the feeling of his lips against her skin making her sigh in pleasure. “I guess I do, huh?”
She felt his body relax against hers, rough fingers skimming her stomach as he swayed them to a song only he heard.
“Come on,” Carmen murmured, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips, his own tasting of the coffee he’d drunk. “Let’s get back into bed.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
They spent hours cuddled up, soft voices interrupting the quiet air of the Chicago morning. Soft words turned into soft moans into soft gasps and pleas and, before long, they were naked again, bodies moving in sync as they reached their peaks together.
And again in the shower, where he slipped into her from behind, after Y/N had washed Carmen’s hair with the new shampoo and conditioner she’d gotten him.
And then on the kitchen counter where he let his tongue explore between her thighs once again, as he made them breakfast despite all her protests of it being his day off and how he shouldn’t be anywhere near a stove.
And then on the sofa where she rode him until she couldn't scream and didn't have a voice anymore as some mindless show played on in the background.
By the time evening came around and they plopped hot and sweaty onto Y/N’s bed because Carmen’s sheets still needed to be changed after the previous night’s escapades, they were satiated and happy.
And undoubtedly very much so in love.
Tags (crossed out wouldn't take):
Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstrange
A/N: I am back on my bullshit and I am obsessed with this man!!! Why did I wait so long to watch The Bear!!! UGGGGHHHH!!! He makes me go feral!!!!
P.S. what did you think? I might make more parts with these two :)
#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#carmy#the bear#the bear hulu#carmen x reader#carmen imagine#carmy x reader#carmy imagine#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmy smut#carmen berzatto smut#carmy x you#carmy x y/n#carmen berzatto x y/n#carmen smut#carmy angst#carmen angst#carmen berzatto angst#carmy fluff#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy the bear
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sry if you've answered this before, but do you have any fave or recommended poems centered around or related to disability?
thanks for your patience, i do! i'm including some of my favorite books below, as well as some individual poems.
i've also written some disability-themed pieces/books. Some pieces I've written that may be of interest include these two and these two in Electric Lit, Diagnostician's Note in Protean, RUNNING in X-RAY Lit, Late Summer Dispatch in Princemere, Headcase! in the New Orleans Review, and to a specified fate) and these two in The Institutionalized Review.
books (all of the authors listed also have individual pieces published that are worth checking out!)
Hannah Emerson, The Kissing of Kissing
Twoey Gray, Electrodaughter
Bhanu Kapil, Schizophrene
Sam Sax, Madness
Bettina Judd, Patient.
Jane Shi, Leaving Chang'e On Read
David Wolach, Occultations
Petra Kuppers & Neil Marcus, Cripple Poetics
Phil Smith, Writhing Writing: Moving Toward a Mad Poetics
Edited Anthology: Beauty is a Verb: The New Poetry of Disability
some poems i love (* marks those I have edited/helped bring into the world!):
Jess Silfa, Keeping Up
Dane Lyn, Stoner Termites*
Andy Jackson, Disfigured Fame
BEE LB, Two poems
torrin a. greathouse, SICK4SICK
Nora Hikari, The Fictive's Address
Matthew Tuckner, Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, With Figurative Language
Isaac Pickell, In The Psych Ward*
Zachariah Claypole White, OCD Sonnets
Evan Reynolds, [ABJECTION]*
Jesse Rice-Evans, Snow Moon
hope you find something you like!
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Blades of Fate
marcus Acacius x f!reader / lucius x f!reader
Summary: Lucius and you are celebrated champions of the arena, each with their own unique force. Marcus Acacius returning from a victorious campaign, attends a grand gladiatorial event where he witnesses your bravery firsthand and something about you captivates him.
w.c: 4,4k
warnings: messy writing, angst, mentions of blood, mentions of violence, and mentions of arranged marriage, tension
a/n: okay, I had two days off from work and I still have post london depression, but I finally wrote something and I had no idea what the plot of this was or is, but I was dying for writing something about this two characters and I out them both here. Okay I have no idea what plot gladiator II will follow so this is the only thing that came to my mind. Perhaps some events or details of the story will not fit with the history events of the Roman empire and gladiators, but still this is just for fun. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. I hope you like it and have fun reading 💌.
dividers by: @/saradika-graphics
The sun hung high in the Roman sky, casting golden rays over the Colosseum's colossal structure. The massive stone amphitheater, a testament to Roman engineering and grandeur, was alive with the roar of the crowd. Citizens from all walks of life, from the lowly plebeians to the esteemed senators, filled the seats, their cheers and shouts blending into a symphony of anticipation.
The blood of past battles stained the sand in the heart of the arena, a silent witness to the countless lives lost for entertainment. Today, the atmosphere was electric with excitement, for the arena was set to witness a spectacle unlike any other. The gates on either end of the battleground creaked open, and out stepped two of Rome's most revered gladiators.
Lucius, tall and muscular, with a presence that commanded respect, raised his sword to the cheering masses. His sharp and focused eyes scanned the crowd before settling on his partner. You, a gladiatrix of unparalleled skill, moved with a grace that belied the brutality of your fate, matching the rage of your lover. Your lithe form was clad in leather armor, and your hair was braided back to reveal a face marked by determination and a fierce will to survive.
Seeing a woman fight wasn’t something common, but you had won your respect and reputation, and besides Lucius, you had become nothing but stronger, a team, as the two champions you were destined to be.
A hush fell over the Colosseum. The only sound was the distant call of a hawk, circling high above, as if it too were a spectator. Then, with a sudden crash, the gates on the opposite end burst open, and their opponents emerged—a team of seasoned warriors, each one a formidable foe.
The only sound was the distant call of a hawk, circling high above, as if it too were a spectator. Then, with a sudden crash, the gates on the opposite end burst open, and their opponents emerged—a team of seasoned warriors, each one a formidable foe, determined to bring down the beloved gladiators.
The battle began with a clash of steel and a flurry of movement. Lucius and you fought with seamless coordination; your movements synchronized as if you were one entity. Lucius's strength and brute force were complemented perfectly by your agility and precision. The two of you moved through your opponents like a tempest, leaving a trail of fallen adversaries in your wake.
High above, in the VIP stands, General Marcus Acacius watched intently. His stern face, weathered by years of warfare and command, betrayed no emotion. Known for his ruthless efficiency and strategic brilliance, Marcus had seen countless battles, but there was something about these two gladiators that intrigued him. Your skill was undeniable, but it was your unspoken bond, your mutual trust and respect, that caught his attention.
As the last of your opponent’s fell, the crowd erupted in deafening applause. Lucius and you stood victorious, your chests heaving from exertion, but your eyes were sharp and alert. You raised your weapons in salute to the crowd and then, as one, turned your gaze towards Marcus.
From his seat, Marcus leaned forward slightly, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Arrange for a private meeting," he instructed his aide, his voice carrying the weight of command. "I want to see if their skills match their reputation."
The aide nodded and hurried off, while Marcus's gaze remained fixed on the two of you. There was something about you both—a spark that he couldn't quite place. He intended to find out what it was and how it could serve his own purposes.
As you and Lucius exited the arena, you exchanged a smile. Another victory, another day of survival in a world you didn’t choose but were destined to be part of. You reached out, gently touching his arm. “We are a team,” you said, trying to convince yourself that the love you had for him was bigger than the exhaustion you felt.
Lucius looked down at your hand on his arm, then back at you. “Yes, Dulcissima,” he said softly. He closed his eyes; there was a sort of pain evident on his face. “But I want us to be free from all of this," he admitted.
He opened his eyes, searching for yours once more. The anger had faded, replaced by a deep sorrow. "Dulcissima,” the nickname, slipped from his lips once again. “I want us to get married, and I want to make you happy.”
You stared at him in disbelief, the weight of his words sinking in. “Lucius,” you whispered, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotions.
Lucius took your hand in his; his grip was firm yet tender. "I’ve been thinking about this for a long time," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Every time we step into that arena, I fear it might be our last. I don’t want to lose you, not without having truly lived with you."
Your heart ached at his words. You had always known the dangers of your life as a gladiatrix, but hearing Lucius speak so openly about his fears brought a new depth to your own anxieties. "I want that too, Lucius," you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. "But how can we ever be free?"
Lucius's eyes darkened with determination. "We’ll find a way. There has to be more to life than this constant struggle. We’ll fight for our freedom together."
Before you could respond, a group of soldiers approached, their stern faces in stark contrast to the celebration that surrounded you. The leader, a tall centurion with a scar running down his cheek, addressed you both. "General Marcus Acacius has requested your presence for a private meeting. Follow us."
You and Lucius exchanged a quick glance, both sensing the gravity of the situation. With a nod, you followed the soldiers through the winding corridors of the Colosseum, your minds racing with thoughts of what the general might want.
The soldiers led you to a grand chamber within the Colosseum, its walls adorned with intricate tapestries and bronze statues of Rome’s greatest heroes. General Marcus Acacius stood near a large table, studying a map spread out before him. As you entered, he looked up, his eyes locking onto yours with keen intensity.
"Welcome," Marcus said, his voice smooth and commanding. "I wanted to speak with you both personally. Your performance in the arena today was nothing short of extraordinary."
"Thank you, General," Lucius replied, his tone respectful but guarded.
Marcus nodded, a slight smile playing on his lips. "And honor Rome you have. But I sense that there’s more to your partnership than just skill and survival. There’s a deeper connection, one that could be of great use."
You felt a chill run down your spine at his words. "What do you mean, General?" you asked cautiously.
Marcus leaned forward, his eyes piercing. "I’m offering you an opportunity—a chance to fight for something greater than yourselves. To serve Rome in a way that could ultimately lead to your freedom."
Lucius’s grip on your hand tightened slightly. "We’re listening," he said, his voice steady.
Marcus gestured to the map on the table. "Rome is expanding, but with that expansion comes the need for strong, capable leaders. I believe the two of you could be valuable assets in securing our borders and maintaining order. Prove yourselves in the upcoming challenge, and I’ll ensure that your skills are recognized. There could be a future for you beyond the arena, one where you have a say in your own destiny." He paused. "However," he continued, a glint of challenge in his eyes, "I propose a new test of their mettle. A special event, where our gladiatrix will face my finest soldiers in a mock battle."
A murmur of excitement rippled through the hall. You felt a surge of determination at the general's words. This was more than a mere challenge; it was an opportunity to prove yourself further in the eyes of Rome and its most powerful figures.
You stepped forward, your voice clear and resolute. "I accept your challenge, General. I will show you and all of Rome what a true gladiator is capable of."
Marcus nodded, a satisfied smile on his lips. "Very well. The event will be held in two days' time. May the gods favor the brave."
Lucius, standing beside you, gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "We’ve faced worse," he whispered. "You’ll show them all."
Your heart raced at the prospect. Could this be the chance you and Lucius have been longing for? Is there a way to escape the bloodshed and find a life together, free from the chains of the Colosseum?
"We’ll do it," you said firmly, meeting Marcus’s gaze with unwavering resolve. "We’ll prove ourselves."
Marcus’s smile widened; satisfaction was evident in his eyes. "Good. The challenge will take place in two days. Prepare yourselves, and may the gods be with you."
As the banquet continued, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this challenge was more than just a test of skill. It was a pivotal moment, one that could alter the course of your life and your bond with Lucius. And in the shadows, the ever-watchful eyes of Marcus Acacius followed your every move, already plotting the next step in his intricate game.
The next two days were a blur of intense preparation. You and Lucius trained tirelessly, refining your techniques and strategizing for the upcoming mock battle. The anticipation in the air was palpable, both among the gladiators and the spectators who eagerly awaited the spectacle.
On the morning of the event, the Colosseum was packed with spectators, their cheers echoing through the grand structure. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the excitement of the unknown. This was no ordinary battle; it was a test that would determine your fate and perhaps even reshape your destiny.
Marcus stood on a platform overlooking the arena, his presence commanding respect. He raised his hand, signaling for silence. "Today, we witness a display of courage, skill, and determination," he announced, his voice carrying across the Colosseum. "Our gladiatrix will face my finest soldiers in a test of strength and strategy. Let the battle begin!"
The gates creaked open, and you stepped into the arena, your heart pounding with a mix of nerves and adrenaline. Across from you stood Marcus’s elite soldiers, their expressions hard and focused. You glanced at Lucius, who stood at the edge of the arena, his eyes locked onto yours with unwavering support.
"Together," you whispered to yourself, drawing strength from the bond you shared with Lucius.
The clash of steel rang out as the battle commenced, a whirlwind of movement and noise. You moved with a grace and ferocity that left your opponents reeling; your every strike was precise and powerful. Despite the odds, you fought with everything you had, driven by the desire for freedom and a future with Lucius.
As the battle raged on, you felt a surge of energy, pushing yourself beyond your limits. You danced around your opponents, using your agility and speed to outmaneuver them. The crowd's cheers grew louder with each successful strike, their excitement fueling your resolve.
Finally, as the last soldier fell, a hush descended over the arena. You stood victorious, your chest heaving, your body bruised and battered but unbroken. The crowd erupted in applause; their cheers were a testament to your triumph.
Marcus descended from the platform, his eyes filled with admiration and something else—something deeper. "You have proven yourself today," he said, his voice carrying a note of respect. "Your skills and determination are unmatched. You are a true warrior."
You nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. "Thank you, General," you replied, your voice steady despite the exhaustion.
Lucius rushed to your side, his eyes filled with pride and relief. "You did it," he whispered, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I knew you would."
As you stood there, basking in the glow of victory, Marcus stepped closer, his gaze intense. "There is more to this than just a test of skill," he said quietly. "I see potential in you—a potential that could change the course of our future."
You looked at him, curiosity and apprehension swirling within you. "What do you mean?"
Marcus smiled a hint of mystery in his eyes. "All in due time. For now, rest and recover. We will speak again soon."
In the days that followed, you and Lucius were treated with newfound respect and admiration. The other gladiators looked up to you, and the soldiers who had once seen you as mere entertainment now saw you as formidable warriors. Yet, despite the praise and the promise of a brighter future, a sense of unease lingered in the air.
One evening, as you were returning to your quarters after another grueling day of training, a sudden commotion caught your attention. The sound of clashing steel and muffled shouts echoed through the corridors. You hurried towards the source of the disturbance, your heart pounding with a sense of impending danger.
As you rounded a corner, you were met with a chilling sight. Lucius was engaged in a fierce battle with a group of unknown assailants. His movements were swift and deadly, but he was outnumbered. Without a second thought, you drew your weapon and rushed to his aid, your determination burning brighter than ever.
Despite your best efforts, the sheer number of attackers overwhelmed you. You fought valiantly, but the odds were stacked against you. A sharp pain exploded in your side as one of the assailants landed a brutal blow, and you fell to your knees, your vision blurring.
Lucius's voice echoed in your ears, filled with desperation. "No! Leave her alone!" But his cries were in vain. The attackers overpowered him, and as darkness closed in, you felt yourself being dragged away.
When you awoke, you found yourself in a dimly lit cell, your hands bound with a rough rope. The cold stone walls pressed in around you, and the air was thick with the scent of dampness and decay. You struggled against your restraints, but they held firm.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor, growing louder with each passing second. The door to your cell creaked open, and Marcus stepped inside, his expression unreadable.
"You’re awake," he said quietly, his voice carrying a note of regret.
"Why?" you demanded, your voice hoarse. "Why did you do this?"
Marcus sighed, his eyes dark with emotion. "It wasn’t supposed to be like this," he said, stepping closer. "But there are forces at play here that even I cannot control. I had to act quickly to protect you."
"Protect me?" You spat, your anger flaring. "By taking me hostage?"
He knelt beside you, his gaze earnest. "Yes," he said softly. "There are those who see you as a threat and who would stop at nothing to eliminate you. I couldn’t let that happen. This was the only way to keep you safe."
You stared at him, your mind racing. "And what about Lucius? What have you done to him?"
Marcus’s expression tightened. "He’s unharmed for now. But there are conditions. You must stay here, cooperate with me, and in return, he will be spared."
Your heart ached with the weight of his words. The future you had envisioned with Lucius seemed to slip further away with each passing moment. "What do you want from me?" you asked, your voice trembling.
"I want you to trust me," Marcus said, his tone sincere. "I know it's a lot to ask, but I need you to believe that I’m doing this for the greater good. Together, we can change the course of history."
You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of deceit. Instead, you found only a deep, unyielding resolve. Despite your anger and fear, a part of you wanted to believe him and trust that he had your best interests at heart.
"I’ll cooperate," you said finally, your voice steady. "But if anything happens to Lucius, I swear I will make you pay."
Marcus nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his features. "You have my word," he said. "Lucius will be safe.
The next evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the cell, Marcus arrived with a tray of food. He set it down on a small table and took a seat across from you. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice gentle.
You shrugged, picking at the food. "As well as one can feel in captivity," you replied, a hint of bitterness in your tone.
Marcus sighed. "I understand your frustration," he said. "But believe me, this is the only way to ensure your safety."
You looked up at him, your eyes searching for his. "And what about Lucius? How long do you intend to keep us apart?"
"Until it’s safe," he answered, his gaze unwavering. "There are those who would see you both dead. I need to neutralize that threat before I can reunite you."
You frowned, the weight of his words sinking in. "And how do I know I can trust you?"
“Because I wouldn’t hurt you,” he said, leaning forward towards you, his expression earnest. "I have given you my word. I will do everything in my power to protect you.”
“And Lucius,” you said.
“I don’t care about Lucius.” He confessed, “But if you ask me to protect him, I will.”
You recoiled slightly at Marcus's confession, his words echoing in your mind. "You don’t care about Lucius?" You repeated it, disbelief coloring your tone.
Marcus hesitated, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again. "Not in the same way I care about you," he admitted quietly. "But I understand how important he is to you. If protecting him means protecting you, then I will do it."
You took a deep breath, trying to process the storm of emotions swirling within you. Marcus’s honesty was unexpected, and it stirred something in you, something you could decipher.
"I appreciate your honesty," you said finally, your voice steady despite the turmoil in your heart. "But my loyalty lies with Lucius. He’s... he’s a part of me."
Marcus nodded slowly, his expression somber. "I understand," he said softly.
You looked your gaze with his; an electric feeling passed through the both of you, but you ignored it, not wanting to commit treason towards Lucius.
“I don’t like this life, you know?” Marcus began, his voice carrying the weight of the weariness of years and sincerity. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze searching yours as if seeking understanding.
You nodded slowly, feeling a surge of empathy for the man before you, the man who seemed to be different from his strong exterior. "I can imagine," you replied softly. "The burden of command, the weight of decisions that affect so many lives..."
Marcus sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping slightly. "It’s not just that," he admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I’ve seen too much bloodshed, too much senseless violence. In these gladiatorial games, they glorify death while the people cheer on."
His words resonated deeply with you, stirring up memories of battles fought and lives lost in the name of entertainment. "I never wanted to be a fighter," you confessed quietly. "I wanted... I wanted a life of peace, of freedom."
Marcus’s gaze softened, a flicker of understanding passing between you. "Yet here we are,” he murmured. “Bound by duty, by the expectations of others.”
You nodded, the weight of shared experience forging a fragile bond between you.
"I’ve spent my life in service to Rome, sacrificing countless lives for its glory. But lately, I find myself questioning the cost."
You nodded slowly, sensing the weight of his words. "I understand," you said quietly. "I’ve felt that way too, at times. I never wanted to be what I am now—to live and die by the sword. But I grew up with Lucius, and we shared the same resentment and anger at the hand life dealt me."
Marcus’s gaze softened, a flicker of understanding passing between you. "We’re more alike than you realize," he murmured. ”
"I never imagined my life would turn out like this," you admitted, a pang of vulnerability in your voice. "But every battle, every victory—it’s shaped who I am."
Marcus reached across the table, his hand resting gently on yours. "You’re stronger than you know," he said earnestly. "And you deserve more than the chains of the Colosseum."
You met his gaze, seeing a depth of compassion and empathy that surprised you. "What about that?" you asked softly. "What do I deserve?"
“To be caressed and protected,” he replied, not taking his eyes from yours.
His words stirred something deep within you—a yearning for tenderness and safety amidst the chaos of your existence. "And you?" you pressed gently, your heart racing with uncertainty and anticipation.
Marcus’s expression softened further, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features. "To find redemption," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "To make amends for the lives I’ve sacrificed.”
You nodded slowly, the weight of his confession settling between you. "We both seek something more," you said softly, reaching to cover his hand with yours. "Perhaps we can find it."
The touch of your hands and the electricity were enough to make you guilty of sin.
"One of my men has uncovered a plot against you," Marcus confessed while holding your hand. "There are those who believe you and Lucius pose a threat to the stability of Rome. They’re planning an attack."
You drew in a sharp breath, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. "Who would want to harm us?" you asked, your voice tinged with concern and disbelief.
Marcus shook his head grimly. "Enemies within the Senate, rivals who see you as a symbol of defiance," he explained. "They fear the influence you hold over the people, over the rebels.”
You glanced at him, a mixture of fear and gratitude swirling within you. "What do I do?" you asked quietly, realizing the gravity of the situation.
Marcus’s gaze hardened, a flicker of determination crossing his features.
"What do you propose?" you asked, a sense of foreboding creeping over you.
Marcus took a deep breath, meeting your gaze with resolve. "An arranged marriage," he said quietly. "Between you and me."
You stared at him, stunned. "What?”
"Think about it," Marcus said, shifting closer. "As my wife, you would have the protection of my name and my position. It would make it much harder for our enemies to harm you. And it would give us the legitimacy and power we need to navigate the political landscape of Rome."
"But what about Lucius?" you demanded, your heart aching at the thought of betraying him.
"I would ensure his safety," Marcus promised. "He would be free, and you could see him. But we must present a united front to the world. This is the only way."
You turned away, struggling with your emotions. The thought of marrying Marcus, despite your growing bond, felt like a betrayal to Lucius. Yet, the logic of Marcus’s proposal was undeniable.
"Please, think about it," Marcus said softly, his voice filled with sincerity.
You spent the night wrestling with conflicting emotions, torn between loyalty to Lucius and the pragmatism of Marcus's proposal. As dawn broke, you found yourself standing before Marcus once more, a decision forming in your mind.
"I've thought about it," you began slowly, meeting Marcus's intense gaze with determination. "I... I agree."
Marcus's expression softened with relief, yet he remained composed. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice laced with concern for your well-being.
You nodded, steeling yourself against the ache in your heart. "Yes. It's the best way to protect both of us, and Lucius too. We need to do this."
A weight seemed to lift from Marcus's shoulders, replaced by a renewed sense of purpose. "Thank you," he murmured, stepping closer to take your hands in his. "You won't regret this. I'll make sure to be the best husband.”
As Marcus took your hands in his, a sense of finality settled over you. The decision was made, driven by a combination of necessity and the undeniable connection you felt with him. Despite the pang of guilt for Lucius, you knew this was a path you had chosen for the safety and future stability it promised.
"I need you to know that my heart belongs to Lucius," you replied softly, meeting Marcus's earnest gaze. "But I’ll believe you’ll prove me right."
A faint smile touched Marcus's lips; relief and determination shone in his eyes. "We'll face this together," he said, his voice steady with conviction. "I'll ensure that you're protected and that we navigate these turbulent times with strength and unity."
Marcus nodded solemnly, his gaze unwavering as he listened to your heartfelt confession. "I understand," he replied softly, his voice tinged with both acceptance and a hint of sadness. "I will do everything in my power to earn your trust and respect."
You felt a surge of gratitude towards Marcus, appreciating his understanding despite the complex emotions involved. "Thank you," you murmured, squeezing his hands gently. "For being so understanding."
A sense of mutual respect and determination filled the space between you, a silent agreement to face the challenges ahead. Marcus's commitment to protect you and navigate the political intricacies of Rome gave you a measure of reassurance in the midst of uncertainty.
"We'll announce our intentions and make preparations," Marcus continued, his voice regaining its usual resolve. "Our marriage will be more than just a shield; it will be a symbol of unity and strength."
As you nodded in agreement, a sense of resolve settled within you. Despite your heart belonging to Lucius, you knew that this alliance with Marcus was necessary.
When Marcus left your side, you looked up at the sky, promising heaven and God that Lucius would be your only love, just as the weight of your decision settled in your chest—a blend of duty and sacrifice for a greater cause—for your freedom. Despite the practicality of your alliance with Marcus, your heart still yearned for Lucius, a truth you held onto in the quiet moments.
Unbeknownst to you, Marcus observed you from a distance, his gaze fixed on you with a newfound sense of purpose. As he watched you under the vast Roman sky, a resolve hardened within him. He had made a commitment to protect you, but now he harbored a deeper ambition—to win your heart.
#marcus acacius x f!reader#marcus acacius x female reader#marcus acacius x y/n#marcus acacius x you#marcus acacius x reader#general marcus acacius#general acacius x you#general acacius x reader#general acacius#pedro pascal#angst#gladiator 2#marcus acacius#marcus acacius imagine#pedro pascal character fanfiction#lucius x f!reader#my writing
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idk if you’ve ever seen death proof by quentin tarantino but in the movie three girls are basically going a on road trip to a lake house and they run into this guy who’s basically been stalking them and he ends up killing then with his car. i was wondering if you could write something like that with ray marcus. but instead of him killing them with his car (or at all) you could maybe do something else.
✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Ray Marcus x F!Reader ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Nocturnal Animals ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 1.4k ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧ Speeding Cars | Scared Reader | Swearing | Angry sex | Unprotected P-in-V | Dub-Con? | Mention of Creampie | Rough sex | Sex on the hood of Ray's Car | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I'm glad I know you and your likes! ✧*̥˚ IMAGE & DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ TAGLIST FOR R.M.: *̥˚✧ @earth-elemental18 @f4irylid @nyxvuxoa-writes ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Aaron Taylor-Johnson Masterlist *̥˚✧
It was like every other night, you leave your job, and you just drive. You enjoyed the roads at night, they were clear, they were empty, there was no one out to get in your way, just you and the open road. But tonight, there was something different, as you kinda speed down the road you decide to take a different turn. Wanting to take the longer way around, a car pulls out turning on their lights, keeping his high beams on, it's kind of blinding in your rearview mirror.
You squint a moment and then you move your mirror enough so it's not too troubling. You speed up a bit, but he starts riding your rear end.
"Fuck man, get any closer and you'll need to buy me dinner and pull my hair." you scoff.
As you keep driving you put a little more distance. Checking your mirror, you realize that he's backed off a bit. Letting out a breath you turn your music up, your thumbs strum against the wheel and you begin to sing along. You forget about the driver behind you while you enjoy the empty road.
You had a moment to enjoy the road again, your guard going back down as you press your foot into the pedal a little more. But it wasn't much longer till the highbeams were back to feeling like they were inches away from your vehicle, shining brightly in your rearview mirror. You go to speed up a bit, wanting to put some distance, but your car jerks with another tap at your bumper.
"What the fuck?" You state to yourself as you proceed to speed up again trying to get out of the reach in a matter of a way.
It was a raw moment of adrenaline as he speeds up on you again. You had no clue what was going to happen. One moment you're enjoying your drive, next thing you know you've got someone on your ass from what felt like nowhere. You slow down, maybe he'll speed around you, but no luck. Snarling you look back into your mirror before you motion for him to go around, but that doesn't work.
You try and speed up, but he bumps your car again. Out of instinct you reach your hand out the window and flip him off as you speed off. Okay, probably not the smartest move. Your heart begins to pound. You proceed to put the petal to the metal and try and zoom past so he's no longer behind you, but this straight road was going to possibly be the death of you. Your heart racing, your radio turned down, no cell service.
"FUCK!" you scream and begin to beat on your wheel. "Come on asshole! COME ON! Fuckin' try me!" you snarl.
Like a bat outta hell, he speeds up on you and he pulls up and pulls up enough to fishtail you causing your car to spin into the dirt. Your heart is pounding, your mind is racing, and you don't know whether to fight or freeze. It takes you a moment to respond as your call stalls from the spinning. You hear nothing but a high-pitched buzzing in your ears, unsure of what to think, what to say, and then it hits you, you have to fight.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" you scream out of your slightly opened window.
Getting out of his car he moves to your slightly opened window and looks at you.
"You've ran into my car..." He states
"I ran into your car? Are you fuckin kidding me? What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you snap.
"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?" He asks.
At this point, you damn well know he's trying to get a rise out of you when he starts to chuckle. You get out of your car and you move to the front of his and you slam on his hood.
"What the fuck are you doin?" He askes you.
"What the fuck are you doin?!" you snap back.
He walks around to the front of his car and you go to run off but he grips the back of your neck and pulls you back to him and he snarls and points to the hood of his car.
"What the fuck was that?" He snarls.
"That?! That was fuckin mild compared to the shit you just pulled!" you go to slap him across the face but he catches your hand and throws it to the side so you shove him instead.
You watch him stumble back a bit but not enough time to get away. You attempt to slap him again.
"I fuckin swear to fuck girl, you go to hit me one more fuckin time..." he snarls.
"What? What the fuck are you gonna do about it?" you push.
"I will have no issue putting you in your fuckin place." He growls.
"Oh? How you gonna do that big boy?" You look over him and you present yourself as if you're going to attack.
He shakes his head. "Bitch I'll have you screaming for this whole desert to hear if you keep it going." He smirked.
"I fuckin dare you. Go ahead... try me." You press.
"You want to get fucked don't you? Girl, I fuck you, you'll be comin back for more."
"I fuckin said try me." you snarl you step forward and throw your hand across his face, making contact the sound of the slap echoed.
He grips your arm and shoves you against the hood of his car, bending you over and grips at your frame before he hikes your hips up and makes quick work of your clothes and grips at you before you realize it, he's shoved himself right between your legs and made himself quite comfortable with you.
You snarl, but fuckin hell, he's packing some serious heat in the below the cock department. Your jaw clenches as he starts to thrust into you with this heated fever. It was this rapid thrusting that caused you to gasp. Gripping the top of the hood of his car you snarl as he continues picking up his pace.
You close your eyes a moment, feeling this anger pulse through you, you jerk your hips back and start to fight but not in the way of getting him off of you, a way of working out your anger.
"Oh there she is... Fight be Darlin' I like it when they fight." He growls through his motions.
Reaching back, you grip at his shirt and pull him to you as you move your hips up and back, as if grinding against him. He reaches for your hands and pulls them behind your back. A snarl escapes you as if hiding your small whimpers.
He picks up on those small whimpers and he starts to thrust harder, thrusting upward he smirks watching your face in the reflection of the windshield. Deeper thrusts causes you to moan a little louder. The moans were nice, but no, this man wanted you to scream.
Did you want to give him that win? No, no you didn't. You snarl and start backing your hips up into him as if fighting back, a low snarl escapes you as he slams his hips against your ass and he lets out another snarl as you moan.
It wasn't until he moved in a different angle that he found that sweet spot and you bite your lip, and your hips buckle.
"That's the spot isn't it Darlin'?" he asks.
You moan a little louder as he continues to thrust. You moan louder as he thrust harder against that sweet spot and there it was, that win. That sweet spot caused you to scream.
"That's it... scream louder for the whole world to know." He mused with a soft chuckle to his voice.
You feel your legs start to shake, your eyes flutter as you feel yourself getting wetter as he rides that spot.
"Fuck!" you moan louder.
"No, scream. Don't fuckin moan. Fuckin scream." He snarled.
You can feel him work you, stretching you at a new angle, and it wasn't long before you were giving him frequent reoccurring back to back screams. It was as if they wouldn't stop pouring from your mouth.
Pulling a little harder, thrusting a little more you feel yourself building to that finish.
"Come on Darlin'. Show me how good of a job I did. Make a mess." He coaxed.
"FUUUUCK!!" your voice echoes across the surface of the surrounding area.
"That's a good girl." He chuckles as he gives a few more needed thrusts before be gives his own finish deep within you, filling you to the bring where you are oozing and snarls.
This moment stuck with you, but he was also right, he won, every night after work, you take the same route, and have the same race, and a much needed finish, damn near tradition at this rate.
#ray marcus x reader#ray marcus x you#ray marcus smut#Ray Marcus#Ray Marcus x f!reader#Ray Marcus Angst#Ray Marcus Fluff#ray marcus x reader smut#nocturnal animals#aaron taylor johnson smut#aaron taylor johnson fanfic#aaron taylor johnson x reader#aaron taylor johnson#smutty smut smut#smut fanfiction#smutty smut#smutty#voxmortuus
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[𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝙸𝚗 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜]
This is an updated WIP list as of 7/24. In case you are curious to if your request is in my drafts or not, you can always check here and see if something sounds similar or if you are tagged in your request progress.
[𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚂𝙴𝙳] I want to take some time to catch up on what I have. As soon as requests are open again, I will post that they are open and that my WIP list has been freed up.
This does not indicate the order that they will be done. I write with my flow, so one may flow better than the other one day. But they will all be done as soon as I can get them.
Aaron Taylor-Johnson Requests:
• Ray Marcus x Fem!Reader - Ravishment Anon Prompt Request, CNC, in drafts. • Ray Marcus x Fem!Reader - Backseat Anon Prompt Request, Car sex, in draft. • Tangerine x Fem!Reader - Title Pending Anon Continuation Request, Reader Learns More, In Drafts. • Yandere!Count Vronsky x Fem!Reader - Title Pending Mutual Request, themes pending, smut, in drafts. • Ford Brody x Fem!Reader - Leather Black & Eyes of Blue Anon Request, Childhood Friend, Angst, Smut, in drafts, started. • Ben Leonard x Fem!Reader - Title Pending Anon Request, Hidden Feelings, Smut, in Drafts, Started. • Tarzan!Kraven x Fem!Reader - Title Pending Requested by @rvmanoffbarnes, in the wilds, smut possible, In drafts.
Jake Gyllenhaal Requests:
• Detective Loki x Fem!Reader - She's the Tear in My Heart Anon Requested, possessive Loki, relationship drama, in drafts.
Cillian Murphy Requests:
• Jackson Rippner x Fem!Reader - The way you Break Requested by @voxmortuus, Dark!Fic, Dead Dove, in drafts, started.
If you have questions about your draft or want to even just chat about it. Feel free to send me a message or an ask.
Normally Pinned - F.A.Q. - ATJ Masterlist - Multifandom Masterlist
#nyxvuxoa writes#fanfiction#dark fic#tangerine x you#tangerine x reader#ray marcus x reader smut#ray marcus x you#cillian murphy x reader#jackson rippner x reader#aaron taylor johnson fanfic#aaron taylor johnson smut#aaron taylor johnson x reader#jake gyllenhaal x reader#jake gyllenhaal smut#work in progress
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Volturi Guard (Felix & Demetri) X Fem! Human reader sunshine and great beauty headcanons.
Summary: You are their human partner and you have otherworldly beauty in addition to having a very happy and sweet personality, how would they be with you?
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Demetri Volturi:
You were unreal, it couldn't be anything else. Even the first time he found you, that cloudy afternoon in Italy, he didn't know whether to be more surprised to see such beauty or to be surprised to have found you.
Even after going with Marcus and him taking their bonds of relationship for granted, even after you moved with him to Volterra, even after you were together, Demetri couldn't believe you were so ethereal.
You caught him off guard. Not in his hundreds of years did he believe that the day would come when someone special to him would come along, he hadn't given it that much importance until now, until you came along. He had seen the way Marcus looked when he remembered his former partner, the only time he seemed to be "alive", even the way the cruel Caius saw his wife seemed to be that deep and pure. Demetri could now understand what it felt like, what it felt like to find that person.
Being human, you seemed to be so perfect in everything you did that it was fascinating for him to watch you do even the smallest thing. He could see the sunrise in your eyes, hear your laughter forever, watch you sway back and forth in those cute summer dresses, you were the most precious thing he had ever owned.
It was something different, a breath of fresh air in that place, Demetri liked it. You were a different beauty, something he had never seen before. He was used to the women of the guard, so cold and seductive, but you were different, you were like a ray of sunshine in that darkness. You didn't have to try hard to look good, people seemed delighted to see you, nor did you have to try hard for a good comment or a nice outfit, your sweet personality did all the work and your face made anyone mesmerized by you.
It wasn't just because you were his soulmate, but the fact that you were as beautiful on the outside as you were on the inside. Others only saw you for your exterior, they were drawn to how you looked and, although that also happened to him, Demetri understood that there was more to you than just being a pretty face.
When a stray dog or cat passed by on the street you couldn't help but stop and get them food and take care of them while your soft hands touched their tender fur, when an elderly person was in trouble you were there to help without separating until you met your goal, when anyone was down you were always there with your cheerful smiles and kind compliments to make them feel better. Demetri watched all this and couldn't be more fascinated, more proud. So proud to have a partner like you.
Having a good rank in the guard made things easier, so he made sure from the first moment you moved to Volterra to give you the best, that's what he wanted. Sometimes leaving you impressed by his great memory and even the least significant thing for you, even if it was a silly thing, Demetri kept it in his mind.
As much as he would like you to be together, each other's personal space was important and he knew that, which is why he made sure to get you your own room, a nice, spacious one with big windows so it could be quite bright, all so you could decorate it to your liking later. He remembered how you had told him that your favorite part was the garden, which is why he made sure the room faced the garden when he opened the windows. It was all worth it if he saw your beautiful smile again. Although that didn't take away from the fact that you would see him walk through your door more than once a day.
Demetri wanted to be everything you had always dreamed of, he wanted to adore you and love you in every way and for you to know it. Being a gentleman and giving compliments were already a part of him, not as frequent before he met you, but they were, so now that you were with him he would let you know from the first hour of the morning how much you meant to him. Going on picnics with you somewhere away from other people and see you so dreamy when you see him skin shine in the sun was something he loved, as well as cuddling up to your chest at night and hearing your clear heartbeat, feeling your warm body.
He would make sure to let you know every moment how much he loved you, how important you were to him, because you were. He could almost feel as if his heart was beating again. It was because of you. He felt alive again. It was strange, but he loved the feeling, only if it was with you.
Felix Volturi
In all his centuries as a vampire he would never have imagined for a second that you would come into his life, thinking that he could find his special someone and be worthy of something as beautiful as you made him feel confused. He is supposed to be the executioner of the Volturi, he is someone reckless, no one wants to cross his path or have anything to do with him and Felix only wants to do his job in the guard and feed, so when you finally get to him the surprise is inexplicable.
You were the complete opposite of him, you were so gentle, so compassionate with the people around you, whether they were nice to you or not, you lived in the moment and tried to enjoy yourself without worries. So worried about him when he returned from some mission, so considerate. Felix believed that this was something of destiny, what a great move.
But he adored you, Felix loved it when you spent quality time with him chatting for hours about your lives, listening intently with shining eyes when you heard him talk about his life throughout the centuries, he adored cooking together even if the result with him wasn't the best if only he could hear your laughter again when you saw his dish, he adored that you didn't see him just as a guy with threatening brute force.
Seeing you smile was one of the best things he could have seen, if not the best. Your personality was a respite from all the cruelty that was the Volturi, it was something Felix admired, how you remained so positive and radiant despite knowing how things were there.
He couldn't stop looking at you. So sweet, you were so sweet that Felix could feel almost dizzy. He was with you, you were so wonderful, he adored you, there was no one else in his eyes. Every mission he was away from you on, he just wished it would end soon so he could get back into your arms, smell your rich fragrance of that soft cologne that Felix loved, and hear your voice.
When he had nothing to do, Felix really enjoyed staying with you doing whatever, no matter what, as long as you were there everything was like lying on a cloud. Seeing you frown when you focused too much on the movie that was playing was something he really liked, watching and studying your features. Surprising you with gifts like your favorite food, clothes he knew you liked but hadn't managed to get yet, pretty jewelry, whatever you liked, he wanted to give it to you.
Holding your hands was something fascinating, as common as it sounded, feeling the heat, feeling the blood run through your veins, seeing how his larger hand was able to cover yours so protectively, was something Felix would love. Maybe that's why after every mission he doesn't let go of your hand for a long time.
After so many centuries with people around him only being terrified of him, he didn't want to seem so intimidating to you, although he knew that didn't intimidate you, even so Felix could bring out his softer side, maybe also his more vulnerable side if he is confident enough and at the right time. It would be difficult for him to be too soft or romantic, don't get him wrong, he loves you very much, but it wasn't something he was given nor was he used to, so he could be, but to a certain point.
Even so, the things he usually liked the most were hugging you many times while he picks you up and spins you around the room, without a doubt that made him smile and laugh more than he ever had. Because when he was with you nothing could be better.
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#demetri volturi#felix volturi#volturi#demetri volturi x reader#felix volturi x reader#volturi x reader#headcanons#volturi headcanons#demetri volturi headcanons#felix volturi headcanons#twilight#twilight x reader#twilight volturi#twilight volturi x reader
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Meet me at the set l Pedro Pascal/General Acacius X f!reader l
Written by: @missyorkswhore & @umadosedepascal
Made in Brazil
Pairing: Pedro Pascal/General Acacius X f!reader
Rating/Warnings: (oral sex m receiving) (cum in mouth) (light fingering)
wc: 1.3k
You and Pedro have already been in a relationship for months, sometimes you accompany him on work trips and when he told you about the shooting of Gladiator ll he immediately called you to stay with him for a weekend off.
The shootings has been intense, Pedro tells you by messages how busy and exhausting it is, they start recording as soon as the first rays of Sun appear and only at night he returns to the hotel. This has been your relationship, messages, backstage pics and some calls during the night. You miss him.
"I miss you, I hope you're having fun, General."
You send him a message, hours later his phone vibrates, it's already dawn, you pick up your phone, your eyes burning with the brightness of the screen.
"Hey, I miss you too. God, I'm exhausted and happy, I have good news! It's the last week of shooting, come here, we can enjoy a few days together. Are you coming?"
You smile and type a huge YES. You talk for a few minutes and Pedro sends your flight info and hotel to your email.
Three days later you are on your way to the set, Pedro couldn't pick you up at the airport, but arrange a car to take you immediately to the set.
You enter through the back of the set, producers and employees everywhere, and in the background you can see the huge arena they created, you feel as if you were in two eras, on your left ancient Rome, on your right the current world full of cameras, phones ringing and people walking back and forth.
You walk between the trailers, looking at the doors that indicate where each actor is, a few more steps and your eyes meet the sign "Pedro Pascal -Marcus Acacius" you knock on the door but your jaw drops as soon as the door is opened. Pedro has one hand on the door and the other on his hip. He is incredibly beautiful, a white outfit with golden details, the golden drawings highlighting the middle of the white armor. Your eyes go up to Pedro's face, he wears a golden laurel crown.
- Wow... sorry, I thought it was Pedro's dressing room...
Pedro laughs and pulls you by the hand
- No love, Pedro is unavailable at the moment, only General Acacius now.
He kisses you and you feel his taste, the taste you were searching for. His right hand goes to your waist pulling you against his body, his left hand on the back of your neck, lightly pulling your hair making your head tilt back.
- God, I missed that so much. He murmurs as he runs his lips down your neck leaving soft bites that make you shiver and moan softly.
You push him until Pedro falls sitting in the armchair behind him, he smiles as he watches you kneel slowly at him.
- I heard that in ancient Rome after battles men went for a bath place, is this the name? And they were very well taken care of... and you're so exhausted, aren't you general?
Pedro laughs softly and caresses his cheek with his fingers going down the sensitive skin of your neck, he nods and whispers
- Yes, so exhausted.
You run your hands down his legs, the skin hot, the muscles getting tense under the palms of your hand. You don't stop looking at him, seeing how his lips become half open, his eyes getting darker and darker. You raise your hands until the tips of your fingers meet his underwear, feeling the heat of his cock.
You pull his underwear down, taking them off by the legs and throw them on the floor. Pedro looks hypnotized, he smiles and you go up the fabric of his clothes until his cock is fully exposed, the wet pink tip, the lateral vein pulsating while he whispers.
- Is that what you want? He smiles debauchedly.
You nod your head, your right hand holding by the base feeling it pulsating, Pedro's eyes close quickly. His breathing changes when you lick the drop that accumulates at the tip, his thumb goes up to your lips spreading the liquid, you suck his finger, biting and making Pedro gasp his hand going straight to your hair.
- Don't play with me like that or-
Before he can complete the sentence you put his cock in your mouth, as much as you can, his bittersweet taste on your tongue, the lateral vein pulsating, the unique smell of his skin invading your nostrils. Pedro moans and you look at him and can't hold back the moan with what you see. Pedro with his eyes almost closed, his mouth open, his breath starting to get panting and the damn laurel wreath. He looks like a fucking Greek God.
You swallow it all feeling it hit your throat. Pedro lets his head fall back and a hoarse moan comes out of his throat, his hand grabs your hair firmly, conducting as he wants, how hard he wants to fuck his mouth. You continue the up and down movements, swirling your tongue at the tip, you can't look away, his vision with the white armor.
Pedro takes his left hand to your head, both hands guiding you, making you take him so deeply. He bites his lip, you know he wants to moan and curse, but now it takes a little silence, only small hoarse moans escape his lips, his eyes wandering between his mouth and his eyes.
- If it continues like this I'll cum in your mouth...fuck! - he moans loudly when he feels you masturbate him while your tongue passes through the tip provoking him, you whisper
- Is that what you want, general? - you gently run your tongue over the tip of his cock, provoking the sensitive skin that makes his legs tense.
Pedro growls and pushes his head making your mouth swallow his whole cock.
- Damn, yes...don't stop, please.
Pedro's right hand finds yours on the inner of his thigh, his fingers intertwining yours, while the left hand holds your hair, preventing the strands from hindering his vision of you sucking it.
You suck for a few more seconds until you feel Pedro squeezing your hand hard, his legs shaking, moans escaping from his lips, so low that they seem growling. You swallow every drop, licking until Pedro has spasms and pulls you to his lap. He sticks his forehead to yours, panting, he kisses your lips pulling between his teeth and smiles.
- I missed you so much. Pedro unbuttons your pants, his fingers dipping inside your panties and feeling how wet you are.
- Shit, I need to feel you on my tongue now. He says while biting and licking your neck.
A knock on the door catches your attention, someone says that Pedro's scene is the next one to be shoot. He throws his head back, frustrated and you laugh.
- All right, go soon General... I'll be at the hotel waiting for you. Pedro kisses you, his middle finger dives into your pussy and he takes it to his lips, sucking while moaning as if he were tasting the best dessert in the world.
- Now I can go...wait for me at the hotel, I'll be there in a few hours. He kisses you, fixes the clothes wearing the underwear again. He looks at you and smiles, he hugs you and kisses your forehead and then your lips.
- I really missed you. He turns around, puts on his sunglasses and opens the trailer door, and leaves.
You can't wait for the day to end.
#pedro pascal#pedrohub#gladiator ll#marcus acacius x reader#marcus acacius#general acacius#pedro pascal character fanfic#fanfic#joel miller x female reader#joel miller#frankie catfish morales#agent whiskey#oberyn martell#javier pena x reader#pedropascaledit#pascalispunk#pedro pascal fandom#pedro x reader
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Can't Help Falling
Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female!princess!reader
Word Count: 1,748
Summary: The more time you spend with the General, the more you fall in love.
Author's Note: I love (and hate for them) the idea that they have to be sneaky all the time and the library is a place of escape for them both so I thought having something a little extra naughty but also sweet would work. The poem I used in this story can be found HERE. You can read more about Catallus if you like. The library I'm referencing is the Ulpian Library and you can find info on it HERE and HERE. I'm pretty sure my timelines are all wonky but we can just pretend it all works out bc yay fanfic! 😁
Warnings: it's soft and sweet, semi public sex, fingering, oral (male rec), a lovely poem and a pretty library.
Marcus Acacius Masterlist
Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist
With silent footsteps you hurry across the stones, passing the Colosseum as it towers above you and blots out the brightest rays of the setting sun. The streets of the city are still very much alive with crowds but as you get nearer to the Forum of Trajan their voices start to fade and the warm breeze carries only the sounds of singing birds.
The Ulpia library is the same as you remember with long columns lining the courtyard and natural light filtering through every open space. There are people walking slowly along the walkways, books in hand and completely oblivious to your presence.
Even now, though you’ve spent such time together and watched him train and fight, it still feels like the breath rushes out of you when you see him. He stands taller than everyone around him, and as his dark eyes scan the courtyard, you take the time to enjoy him.
His tunic drapes across his broad shoulders, showing off his arms and legs and the ornamental stripes show off his status as General. He wears nothing on his head today and his curls blow freely in the breeze, giving him a slightly more relaxed look that makes you smile.
He turns and finds you then, standing and staring until you drop your chin under the intensity of his gaze. When you look up again, he smiles and discreetly crooks a finger at you, beckoning.
As you draw closer, he whispers, “you were staring Princess.”
“And you were not?” you shoot back, enjoying how his eyes sparkle with mischief.
Footsteps approach and you grow quiet, feigning interest in the architecture around you. A man passes by and greets the General before his eyes fall on you.
You’re recognizable even under your cloaked disguise so you quickly turn away and play shy.
It seems to appease the man and he walks off with his book.
“I have not visited this place in too long,” you tell Marcus.
With a quick look around, he gently presses his palm to your lower back and leads you deeper into the library.
“I figured as much,” he answers.
When you enter the main library room the smell of parchment and dust assaults your senses, and you breathe in deeply.
Marcus smiles and takes your hand, leading you to one of the niches where hidden inside there is a bookcase lined with scrolls and books. He plucks one from the collection and continues walking, tucking you both behind one of the floor to ceiling columns.
The bookcases press in on you from both sides and the tight quarters force you closer to him.
“Have you read any poetry by Catallus?” he asks.
“Not much,” you admit.
Anticipation spreads along your tingling skin when his lips meet the shell of your ear and he whispers, “not much…or not any?”
When you meet his eyes, he has his answer.
“He’s most known for his words on romance and love…”
You reach for the book, but he keeps it from you, his smile growing as confusion takes over your expression.
“We are going to read it here.”
“Here. But Marcus…”
“And you are going to read it to me.”
You swallow heavily, but when his palm flattens against your cheek and his warmth spreads along your skin you breathe him in and lean into his touch.
“I would have you laid out on my bed reading each and every night but given our circumstances, this will have to do.”
“Just reading General?”
His jaw clenches and his fingers press into your skin before he drags your mouth up to his. The book is smashed between you when he hauls you closer and kisses you with such urgency it steals your breath.
“One night very soon you will be mine and I will have you not out in the open with the fear of being caught but in safety where I can hear every sound of pleasure that I draw from these beautiful lips.”
The calloused pad of his thumb runs along your lower lip and his eyes wander over your features.
“Stunning,” he whispers.
Your breathing is heavy, and you grab his wrist, steadying yourself.
“Marcus,” you purr. “I fear I no longer care who hears or sees, I need you. Each night is torture.”
Because of the tall niches of bookcases surrounding you, you’re invisible from across the room, but if anyone were to walk down from the other side of the library, you would be exposed.
He bends to kiss you, starting with the corner of your mouth and humming at the contact.
“You know I could never allow that. I despise even the idea of any other man laying eyes on you.”
He turns you to face the rows of scrolls and reaches around you to open the book, stopping at a specific passage, and then moves your hand to hold it open. His finger points to the title: “Come Live With Me and Be My Love.”
“Read,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear.
You tongue wets your lips before you start:
“Come live with me, Lesbia, and be my love, And ignore the wagging tongues Of wilted crones and toothless geezers..”
His large hands ran up beneath your tunic, over your hips and across your stomach.
“You are so soft,” he murmurs into your neck.
Your words stutter and he stops his ministrations.
“Princess,” he orders.
You continue, willing your voice to stay steady.
“Suns rise and set, rise and set again, But we, when our brief light is blacked, Must sleep forever, and then forever.”
One of his hands smooths down your side and between your thighs. He teases the wetness he finds there, hissing out a curse when you spread your legs wider for him.
You try to focus on the words in front of you, blinking down at the book.
“Focus,” he whispers.
“So kiss me, Sweet, and kiss me plenty: First a thousand, then a hundred kisses; Then catch your breath and kiss me more: Another thousand, another hundred…”
His lips meet your neck, and at first he presses them softly against your skin then more firmly at your pulse point where he feels the hammering of your heart.
Without any warning he slips a finger inside you and starts to pump it slowly in and out. You groan, needing more and pushing onto his hand.
“Quiet,” he reminds you.
His drags his finger out and teases your clit with small and focused circles.
“Keep reading Princess.”
“I cannot,” you whimper as your hips roll. “I just…Marcus, please!”
“You can,” he says simply and pushes two fingers inside you. “Or we can stop.”
You begin reading again in a tight, stuttering cadence that drives him crazy.
“Still thousands yet till we've lost all count And must begin again, keeping Envious others guessing the sum Of how many kisses much we love.”
You string the words together and although they’re filled with a soft tenderness it does nothing to quell the heavy feeling of lust that rushes through you.
“Touch yourself,” he demands.
“Marcus,” you gasp and the book slips from your fingers.
With shaky trepidation you reach down between your legs and rub his hand brushing against yours as he pushes his fingers in and out of you.
Your legs shake and you squeeze around his fingers, your cry of pleasure muffled when his free hand covers your mouth.
When your muscles stop trembling, he keeps his fingers buried inside you and stifles his moan with his mouth pressed to your neck.
The library is now completely silent, and you realize you have no idea how loud you had been. Did you whisper each word you read? You were so completely lost in him you had no idea.
He pulls his fingers free, releasing a quiet grunt, and turns you to face him.
His lips meet yours in a desperate kiss and when you reach down to take him in your hand he sucks in a breath.
“Princess?” he asks, his eyes dark.
“It is my turn to touch you. Please Marcus.”
As if your name on his lips is his undoing, he releases you and places his palms flat on the bookshelves in front of him.
You drop to your knees, and he trembles.
“Remember, you must be quiet,” you warn with a mischievous grin.
He sucks his teeth when your hand circles around him and gently glides along his hardness. He waits, fingers digging into the wooden shelves and chest heaving, until you wrap your mouth around the tip of him.
Whatever string of words leave his lips are unknown to you and when the first taste of him hits your tongue you moan and take him deeper.
He keeps his eyes locked on you, imprinting the image onto his brain. His hips begin to rock, and he slowly pushes himself deeper, clearing trying to restrain himself.
You roll your tongue and use your hand, pumping and sucking as much of him as you can until he’s groaning a warning above you, the rhythm of his hips stuttering and slowing as he spills down your throat.
When you release him it’s with reluctance and only because he gently takes your arm and drags you up his body. He stares at you and your swollen lips then kisses you hard enough to have your back hitting the bookshelf behind with a thud.
He instantly slides his hand along the curve of your spine in a soothing manner, the only apology he can manage without breaking away.
“You are spectacular,” he breathes against your lips. “I would keep you here with me forever.”
“But I must go,” you say quietly. “My father will surely know of my absence should I stay any longer.”
He nods and reverently brushes his thumb across your cheek before stepping slowly back.
You’re nearing the exit of the library when he reaches for your hand and pulls you into a darkened alcove.
“Just one more,” he murmurs, right before he brings his lips to yours.
It’s soft and sweet and he lingers, not wanting to be the one to pull away.
“A thousand kisses will never be enough,” he whispers against your lips.
You swallow and meet his eyes again, sweeping your fingers through his messy curls.
He presses his hand over yours as you cradle his cheek then brings your knuckles to his lips.
“Until next time, Princess.”
@hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @tripletstephaniescp
#marcus acacius x reader#pedro pascal#marcus acacius#marcus acacius smut#marcus acacius x you#marcus acacius x female reader#marcus acacius x y/n#pedro pascal x reader#marcus acacius fanfiction#marcus acacius x princess!reader#general marcus acacius#gladiator 2#gladiator 2 fanfiction#pedro pascal characters
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