#serve god love me and mend

[ghoulmania]

Is Placebo's version of Running up that hill even in the show? Always reminded me of BH but idek if it's real...

(it's the only version I knew of until it became a meme in recent times, imagine my surprise lol)

what song used in being human uk can you not listen to without being reminded of the show?

[thebirdandhersong]

THOU AND I ARE TO WISE TO WOO PEACEABLY

[pascaloverx]

STARVE

Summary: You lost your husband some time ago while he served as a gladiator for Emperors Geta and Caracalla. General Acacius saved you from becoming an object of pleasure for the emperors. Since then, he has taken you as his mistress. In your free time, you became a disciple of Ravi, the healer, dedicating yourself to tending to wounded gladiators. All seemed to be in perfect harmony until Hanno, a gladiator driven by a thirst for vengeance, crossed your path.

Author's Note: And the gods said: Starve will be a multi-chapter fanfiction (I hope readers will follow it all the way through). Without further ado, the characters belong to Ridley Scott's Gladiator II universe, though there will be significant deviations from the film. Historical accuracy regarding life in the Roman Empire may not always be strictly observed, so I hope you can overlook that. Yes, this story revolves around a love triangle, but I will strive to satisfy everyone. This fanfiction will include adult content, violence, and potentially coarse language. Enjoy!

two four

THREE

Something ominous looms on the horizon. For days, you have been meticulously avoiding both Acacius and Hanno—a strategy that, while effective thus far, has been anything but easy. The rumors reaching you suggest that Hanno has been pestering Ravi incessantly, demanding your presence once more. Ravi, clearly exasperated, has taken to openly complaining about being forced to mediate between your "amorous entanglements," as he puts it, since your self-imposed distance began.

You had thought your withdrawal would carry no real consequences, yet this morning proved otherwise. A messenger from the emperors arrived at your doorstep, summoning you to attend the games at the Colosseum. Apparently, Emperor Geta himself wishes to extend his gratitude for your exemplary work in tending to the gladiators—his and his brother's greatest source of entertainment.

"If you wish, I could say you are unwell," Ravi murmurs as the two of you make your way toward the Colosseum.

"I cannot risk displeasing the emperors while my standing with Acacius remains fragile," you reply, touched by Ravi's unwavering support.

"You should consider mending things with one of the men in your life, for your own sake," Ravi suggests, his tone serious, ever the wise counselor.

"Hanno remains tethered to the memory of his late wife, while General Acacius refuses to release me from our former arrangement. It seems there is no simple resolution," you respond, your voice carrying the weight of your predicament, as the imposing silhouette of the Colosseum looms ever closer.

"It would be far simpler if you weren’t so stubborn. General Acacius may no longer be the ideal choice, but you and Hanno share more in common than you’re willing to admit," Ravi says with an irritating air of wisdom.

"It would be far simpler if you ceased your obstinance. General Acacius may no longer seem ideal, yet you and Hanno share far more in common than you are willing to acknowledge," Ravi remarked, his tone laden with that infuriating wisdom he so often wielded. However, the truth stands—your union with your late husband was forged more upon the bonds of friendship than the fires of passion. Before his commitment to you, he was entangled in an affair with Emperor Caracalla. That, above all, is the most profound distinction between yourself and Hanno. You grieve the loss of a cherished companion who became your husband by circumstance, whereas Hanno mourns his wife, who was, perhaps, the great love of his life.

"I shall take your counsel into consideration, my old friend, yet I beg of you to help me survive at least this day," you say, casting an apprehensive glance toward Ravi. He halts before you, placing a gentle kiss upon your forehead.

"Years ago, I vowed to your husband that I would care for you, and I shall not falter now. May the Gods watch over us," Ravi murmurs solemnly, his voice a quiet prayer as the two of you resume your path toward the arena, where the gladiators are already assembling for the commencement of the games.

Your gaze instinctively searches for Hanno, betraying a desire you would rather not acknowledge. His eyes, almost alight amidst the throng of gladiators, lock onto yours, his expression that of a man consumed by fury. You and Ravi did not take the same path as the gladiators, so it would not be prudent for you to approach him. Yet, from afar, you watch him with a quiet intensity. The courage you lack to bridge the distance is overshadowed by the boldness he possesses to close it himself.

"I shall give you a moment," Ravi murmurs, stepping aside as if sensing the gravity of the encounter. "Do not forget—Hanno may not leave the arena alive today. Be mindful to show kindness, for this could be your last exchange with him." Before you can fully process Ravi's warning, Hanno reaches you with surprising swiftness, all but sweeping you away with his commanding presence.

Hanno swiftly seized your waist with firm hands, nearly lifting you off the ground, and guided you to a secluded corner. His fury was unmistakable, reflected in the dominant grip he maintained on your waist, his hold firm enough to suggest he had no intention of letting you escape. "Have you lost your senses?" you demanded as he pressed you back against one of the great columns of the coliseum.

"I could not allow you to slip away from me again," Hanno replied, his voice low but resolute, his eyes scanning your surroundings with the precision of a predator ensuring no one dared approach.

"Our separation was necessary," you say with some difficulty, the closeness of Hanno's body to yours a maddening temptation that clouds your thoughts.

"Your master forbade you from interacting with me, and you simply obeyed, didn’t you?" Hanno says in a low, furious tone. His anger is not just visible but palpable, almost suffocating.

You seize his face with your hand, your nails pressing dangerously close to his neck. "Say once more that Acacius is my master, and I shall tear your throat out," you threaten, your voice laced with an inexplicable fury. Yet, Hanno seems to relish this, for he steps even closer, his lips curling into a wicked smile.

"I missed you, healer," Hanno replies, his eyes holding an unusual tenderness just moments before he claims your lips in a tumultuous kiss. It is as though he is consuming you, devouring you with his kiss, seeking to capture you entirely while his hands map your body with desperate reverence.

If the two of you were caught, it would mean your undoing, the end of both your lives. Yet, some part of you whispers that it would be worth it. In truth, if death awaited you for this, a kiss alone would not suffice. Each second his tongue dances with yours stirs a longing so deep it borders on madness. You yearn for him to take you, right here and now, for the feel of him within you seems the only desire worthy of risking everything. "Do not die today, gladiator," you murmur against his lips as they part, allowing you both to catch your breath.

"It will not be I who dies today, healer," Hanno says, his voice steady, before capturing your lips once more, this time with tenderness rather than desire. His grip on you tightens, as though he wishes to sink his hands into your very being, to keep your body close to his for all eternity.

"I only hope you can forgive me for what I am about to do," he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. Before you can respond, one of the gladiators calls his name, and he steps away. An unease settles in your chest, fear creeping in as you wonder what he might be planning. Yet, the weight of your obligations presses against your thoughts—you must make your way to the emperors without delay.

"For what reason is the healer present here?" Lucilla, seated beside Acacius, questions sharply as you approach the section where they, the emperors, and other guests await the spectacle.

"The healer is my guest, Lucilla," Emperor Geta interjects swiftly, extending his hand toward you in expectation. Dutifully, you step forward and kiss it. Moments later, Emperor Caracalla mimics his brother’s gesture, and you lean in to kiss his hand as well.

As you rise, your gaze catches the familiar figure of Dondus, the small monkey, bounding toward you with recognition in his bright eyes. Memories of the time you were compelled to remain near the emperors, so Caracalla could indulge his desires with your late husband, flood back unbidden. "He still remembers you," Caracalla exclaims, his voice carrying an unusual note of delight as he grasps your hand.

"It is an honor to be here," you reply evenly, though the weight of his touch stirs emotions you work hard to suppress. Behind your composed words lingers the haunting memory of the cold efficiency with which Caracalla and his brother had ordered your husband's death—right here in this very arena.

"We have been separated by the misfortunes imposed upon us by the Gods, but I believe a new chapter is now opening for us, as your skills as a healer have not gone unnoticed. Hands as talented as yours deserve to care for the well-being of emperors, my dear," Geta declares, his gaze lingering on you with a fervent intensity that borders on desire. You struggle to mask the fear swirling within you, wondering what fate the Gods have in store for you next.

The weight of his words settles heavily on your chest, but before you can gather your thoughts, General Acacius rises abruptly and moves toward the two of you. Your hand lightly grazes the fabric of his attire, halting his approach. "Is there a matter of concern, General?" Emperor Caracalla inquires, his tone laced with an air of amusement, as his fingers idly stroke Dondus, who appears entirely at ease in his presence.

"There is no matter of concern, Emperor Caracalla," General Acacius responds, his hand firmly clasping yours against his chest beneath the folds of his vestment, his piercing gaze directed at the two emperors with the weight of an unspoken warning.

“Our most illustrious general appears perturbed that we extended an invitation to his mistress to grace these games in our company without first seeking his counsel,” Emperor Geta declares with an air of calculated provocation, his words laden with mockery. The faintest smirk curls his lips, as if relishing the tension he seeks to sow.

"Ah, brother, such concerns would trouble him only if he were entangled with her. Yet rumors abound that they no longer seek solace in each other's embrace and that she is no longer charged with tending to the wounds of our noble General," Emperor Caracalla remarks, his words clearly meant to provoke. However, his statement seems to have unsettled Lucilla, who shifts restlessly in her seat.

"Brother, remember that we ought not lend credence to idle gossip," Emperor Geta interjects, rising with an air of authority. "If our esteemed General Acacius insists that we disregard his lover, let him convince us that their bond remains intact. Otherwise, let him return to his rightful place beside his wife, and allow my brother and me the honor of tending to the fair healer." As Geta’s words echo, Acacius turns his gaze toward you, his eyes locking with yours in a silent exchange. Without hesitation, he pulls your face toward his, as though intending to kiss you before the eyes of all assembled.

"Do not sacrifice your marriage for me," you murmur, your voice trembling as the weight of the moment threatens to bring tears to your eyes. The inevitability of what you feared is now unfolding before you—Acacius can no longer shield you.

"You are worthy of such a sacrifice, mea domina," General Acacius murmurs near your ear, his hand gently caressing your face. His touch carries a tenderness that momentarily threatens to weaken your resolve. Yet, you grasp his hands, steadying yourself, and move them away from your face, refusing to yield to the moment. There is a depth to your bond with Acacius, a connection forged in unspoken understanding, but you cannot bring yourself to jeopardize him.

"Perhaps it would be wiser to let the healer decide where she wishes to remain," you say, your voice steady, masking the longing within you to leave this place with Acacius. Turning toward Emperor Geta, who now sits observing the exchange with keen interest alongside his brother, Caracalla. Without hesitation, Geta seizes the opportunity, pulling you onto his lap with a self-assured ease that leaves no doubt of his authority.

Your gaze meets that of General Acacius, whose displeasure grows ever more evident. His clenched fists and the tension in his posture betray the storm brewing within him. "I believe the games are about to begin, dear General Acacius," Emperor Geta states with a sly smile, his hand firmly resting on your waist to solidify his claim. "It would be most appropriate for you to take your seat and enjoy the spectacle." His words carry a subtle provocation, a challenge cloaked in politeness.

Acacius lingers, his body taut with restraint as though weighing the consequences of striking an emperor in defense of his pride. Just as the tension threatens to boil over, Macrinus approaches, his demeanor lively and oblivious to the undercurrents. "Ah, are we all ready to witness the might of my beast? My gladiator returns to the arena today!" Macrinus exclaims, his excitement cutting through the charged atmosphere like a blade.

Acacius hesitates, his head tilting as though he is torn, unwilling to move from your side while you remain seated on Emperor Geta’s lap. Yet, Lucilla intervenes, her steps measured as she approaches her husband. She takes his hand with a quiet resolve, guiding him back to her side. A flicker of disappointment stirs within you, faint but undeniable. What else could you have expected? Acacius has always belonged to her, to duty, to the empire. He has never truly been yours.

The tension lingers only a moment longer before the spectacle claims everyone’s attention. The gates to the coliseum creak open, and the gladiators march into the arena. Yet something is amiss. Their faces are obscured, smeared with what appears to be blood, masking their identities. For those with inattentive eyes, it becomes nearly impossible to distinguish one from another. But not for you. No, Hanno’s eyes—those piercing, tempestuous eyes—are burned into your memory like the sharp point of a blade embedded deep into flesh. Even amid the chaos, they find you, unyielding and unforgettable.

"Macrinus, what are the gladiators scheming?" Emperor Caracalla asks, his words slurred as he drinks from his goblet, already appearing too inebriated to speak coherently.

"My esteemed Emperor Caracalla, I have no knowledge of their schemes, but I trust it is all in service of your entertainment," Macrinus responds, his gaze fixed intently on the gladiators below. He observes them with a sharpness that contrasts Caracalla's indifference, his expression unreadable.

Your eyes instinctively seek out General Acacius, silently willing him to understand that something is amiss. He meets your gaze, his brow furrowed as though catching the silent warning you convey.

"You seem unsettled, healer," Emperor Geta murmurs into your ear, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "I am not accustomed to watching gladiators face one another, Emperor," you reply, steadying your voice. "I am more familiar with mending their wounds when they survive." The truth, however, weighs heavier on your mind—Hanno is planning something, and whatever it is, it may cost Acacius his life. A fate you cannot allow.

"Do not fret," Geta coos, lifting your chin with a deliberate gentleness that feels almost mocking. His eyes search yours, a predator relishing his control. "Guards, increase vigilance near the gladiators!" he commands suddenly, his voice sharp and resonant, slicing through the murmurs of the spectators.

"Emperor, it may not be wise to leave yourself so unguarded," General Acacius interjects, his tone firm yet controlled as he observes the guards dispersing to obey Geta's orders.

"And what greater protection could Rome offer than you, General?" Geta retorts with a smug smile, his grip on you tightening slightly, as though to assert his dominance. The tension is palpable, yet it is quickly eclipsed by the spectacle unfolding in the arena. The gates groan open once more, and three lions emerge, their emaciated forms a testament to their hunger. Their roars echo across the coliseum, a feral sound that sets the crowd alight with excitement. The gladiators ready themselves, their movements deliberate, each one measured and precise.

Your heart tightens as Hanno shouts to the other gladiators, "Remember our plan! Our enemy lies far beyond the arena!" Surely, he is plotting something, yet his precision in leading the gladiators against the lions is extraordinary. It is as if Hanno is channeling his spirit animal, his movements instinctive and deliberate.

Blood is everywhere—some gladiators brutally slaughtered by the lions. Two of the beasts have already been defeated when a revolt begins, chaos erupting as the third lion aids the gladiators in breaking through the arena gates. Suddenly, the tension in the air thickens. Panic spreads as the guards scramble to escort the emperors away from the scene.

Caught in the fray, you find yourself swept along with Emperors Geta and Caracalla, fate conspiring against you. In the madness, you lose sight of Acacius amidst the swarm of guards and gladiators. The tumult escalates into full-blown chaos until a voice pierces through the din, crying out, "Protect the Emperor!"

Before you can react, you feel the sharp pain of a blade slicing through your skin—or perhaps plunging into it. You cannot tell. Dazed, you glance down to see your blood staining your garments, and when you lift your gaze, you meet the eyes of your assailant. Hanno's eyes. You are certain.

The attack meant for Emperor Geta has struck you instead, delivered by the very man who has awakened feelings you dare not name. Tears well in your eyes as you feel your strength waning, your consciousness slipping into darkness.

[verstappensrealwife]

Reclaiming Lost Love - Fernando Alonso x Reader

[fernando alonso masterlist / f1 masterlist]

ʚɞ in which... fernando caves after a breakup, realising he can't live without reader. ʚɞ angst, fluff  ⋆⭒˚.⋆ 1100 words ʚɞ warnings: n/a

-୨♡୧-

The rift between you and Fernando had deepened, a chasm of conflicting desires. He yearned for the sun-drenched shores of a Mediterranean paradise, while you clung to the damp embrace of your homeland, England. Endless debates turned into heated arguments, each word another brick in the wall dividing your once inseparable bond.

One frosty morning, the silence between you became too heavy to bear. You made the agonizing decision to leave, to escape the suffocating grip of disagreement. With a heavy heart, you departed his Spanish abode, leaving behind shattered dreams and a hollow ache.

In the solitude of his home, Fernando's world crumbled around him. The vibrant hues of Spain paled in comparison to the vibrant memories of your laughter echoing through its corridors. The warmth of the Mediterranean sun felt cold against the emptiness in his soul.

As the bleak days of January dragged on, Fernando tried to piece together fragments of his shattered heart. But with February's arrival came a cruel reminder of what he had lost. Valentine's month, a time meant for love, mocked him with its saccharine sweetness.

Determined to mend what was broken, Fernando rehearsed his plea in the mirror, his reflection a ghost of the man he once was. "Go to dinner with me?" Each word dripped with desperation, a plea to bridge the chasm that separated you. 

Despite the bitter cold outside, Fernando's heart burned with a fervent hope as he stood outside your door, ready to lay bare his soul in a final, desperate bid for reconciliation. Flowers wilted in his trembling hands and a box of chocolates in the other, symbols of his futile attempts to win back your affections.

Just as he had steeled himself to knock on the unforgiving wood, the door swung open with a suddenness that startled even him. There you stood, framed in the doorway, your expression a mixture of shock and disbelief. He flinched at the expletive that escaped your lips, the harshness of it contrasting with the softness of your features.

"Jesus fucking Christ!-- Fernando? What are you doing here...?" Your words cut through the air like shards of ice, each syllable a painful reminder of the abyss between you.

For a moment, Fernando faltered, his rehearsed speech evaporating into thin air. He stood there, a lost soul, grappling for words that could bridge the chasm between you. Finally, he managed to croak out, "I... I came to... to beg for another chance."

His voice cracked with emotion, the weight of his longing heavy in the air. As he met your gaze, he saw the walls you had put up, the barriers that kept him at arm's length. But beneath the layers of hurt and anger, he saw something else—a flicker of something he dared to hope was still love.

Fernando's breath caught in his throat as he beheld you, a vision of ethereal beauty standing before him. Despite the passage of time and the weight of your separation, you remained as captivating as ever, a testament to the resilience of your spirit.

"God, how did you manage to get even more beautiful?" he whispered, his voice barely above a reverent breath. His gaze lingered on your parted lips, the brightness in your eyes, and the perfection of every strand of your hair. To him, you were flawless, an embodiment of all he had ever desired. "I miss you," he confessed, his voice a fragile thread woven with longing. "And- and I'd do anything for you, even if that means living here in your sad country."

You couldn't help but snort at his words, a mixture of amusement and disbelief dancing in your eyes. "Always a charmer, are you?" you teased, a hint of affection softening your tone. His shy smile in response only served to deepen the ache in your heart, reminding you of the love that still lingered between you. "I missed you too, but--" you began, your voice trailing off as uncertainty clouded your thoughts.

"Why does there have to be a but?" Fernando's voice was gentle, pleading, his eyes searching yours for reassurance.

"Because you might change your mind, Nando," you replied, the tenderness of his nickname slipping past your lips before you could stop it.

Nando. The affectionate name held a world of forgiveness, a beacon of hope in the darkness of your doubts.

"Not about this, not about you..." His words hung in the air, a promise wrapped in the warmth of his gaze. Despite the uncertainty that lingered between you, in that moment, you dared to believe him.

-

As the door clicked shut behind you, the warmth of the building enveloped you both like a comforting embrace. But while you basked in the cosy atmosphere, Fernando wasted no time in voicing his next complaint of the heat.

"God, do you ever stop?" you chuckled, watching as he aggressively shook his coat off his arms, as if trying to rid himself of the oppressive heat.

He flashed you a sheepish grin, his cheeks flushed from the sudden change in temperature. "I swear, it's like jumping from one extreme to another," he replied.

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a smile at his antics. "Well, you wanted to experience the joys of living in England," you retorted playfully, a hint of mischief dancing in your eyes. "Consider this a crash course in British weather."

You laughed, the sound filling the air with a warmth that had nothing to do with the building's heating system. 

The playful banter between you and Fernando continued as you shed your coats, the warmth of the building wrapping around you like a familiar embrace. With each shared laugh and teasing remark, the tension that had once hung between you melted away, leaving only a sense of intimacy and affection in its wake.

As Fernando flashed you a sheepish grin, his cheeks flushed from the sudden change in temperature, you couldn't help but feel a surge of fondness for the man standing before you. Despite the trials you had faced and the distance that had threatened to tear you apart, there was something undeniably magnetic about him, something that drew you in like a moth to a flame.

Leaning in closer, you caught the scent of his cologne, a heady mixture of sandalwood and spice that sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine. His eyes met yours, dark and smoldering with desire, and you knew in that moment that you wanted nothing more than to lose yourself in him.

[yowlthinks]

And if you haven't seen Much Ado About Nothing with David Tennant and Catherine Tate, oh, you're in for a treat!

“For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?” - William Shakespeare

[axelsagewrites]

Ned Stark*Wife

Pairing: Ned x f!wife!reader

Kinktober Day twenty-five: breeding kink with Ned Stark – there is a reason why Ned has so many children and it’s not as noble as many assume

Word count: 1145

Warnings: horny Ned, desperate Ned, really horny Ned, m!recieving oral, teasing, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

Ned Stark is an honourable man who serves his people and his gods to the best of his ability however his eyes were betraying him. All night he had watched as you danced around his name day feast. A southern quality of yours he usually enjoyed but tonight caused his cock to harden in his trousers. Well, that plus the sweet words you had whispered to him in his bed this morning before rushing away claiming you had ‘too much to do’.

His lords’ words fell on deaf ears since all his focus was on you tonight. When the feast began to lull, only drunken lords and giggling ladies left, Ned approached where you sat talking and giggling with friends. “Wife,” he said, his voice almost as Strained as his trousers had been all night.

“Husband,” you said, turning around giggling but your laughs fell into a knowing smirk when you saw the faint flush of his skin, “It is awfully late it not?”

“Aye,” he said, nodding to the ladies you had been sitting with, “I’m afraid I will have to steal my wife away,” he said as he helped you up from the chair and whisked you out of the hall.

“Why are you always such a little tease?” he questioned lowly in your ear, making sure no passing servants could hear.

You grinned widely, glancing over at your husband who walked very close behind you, likely to try hide the growing bulge you could feel anytime he bumped into you, “Because you like it my lord,”

The chamber door had no sooner slammed shut than your back was being pressed against it. your hands tangled in his hair while his fumbled with the strings of your dress, “I hate this thing,” he grumbled against your lips.

You laughed as you reached to unknot the ties he’d struggled with, “Liar,” you chastised, “I saw you watching me,”

He was never a wasteful man but soon he found himself ripping your dress just to get you out of. he chuckled at your gasp as his hands grabbed your hips, “Don’t worry I’m sure you can mend it,” he teased right back, giving you a taste of your own medicine as you stumbled towards the bed.

It was rare for Ned to be rough but that did not mean he was willing to wait. His hands gripped your hips tightly before throwing you back on the bed making you laugh as your back landed on the soft fabrics. Meanwhile Ned worked on pulling his tunic and undershirt over his head, tossing them in a heap somewhere with your discarded dress.

“Been thinking of this all night,” he said, his hands working on the laces of his breaches however you quickly sat up to take over. “What- “he tried to question as you pulled the fabric down, letting his already hard cock spring free.

“Relax my love,” you commanded him, taking his shaft in your hand and pumping softly making him groan, “and enjoy your gift,” you said before you began to trail kisses up his shaft. When his hand moved to rest on the back of your head you took your signal to sink your mouth down on his cock and Ned groaned loudly as your head began to bob up and down.

All the tension from the night plus the sight of his pretty wife using her pretty lips to suck him off made it hard for him not to spill down your throat. Instead, he did his best to hold back, not wishing it to be quite over yet but when he felt your hands cup his balls, he couldn’t help but pull you off his cock, enjoying the sight of spit trailing down your lips.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he commanded in that stern tone that drove you wild and he knew it. its why he would always shoot a knowing glance your way whenever he had to use it on a lord.

You did as you were told and felt the bed dip as he positioned himself behind you, “Been thinking about this all day,” he said, running his tip along your slit making you shiver, “So have you apparently. So wet for me,” he chuckled, enjoying how your head buried into the pillow in embarrassment.

“Not gonna waste it by finishing in that sneaky mouth of yours,” he said, lining his tip up with your hole but not quite yet pushing in making your hips wiggle, desperate for the friction, “Wanna see you dripping with it,” he said before suddenly pushing in.

You gasped, gripping at the sheets as his cock began to stretch you perfectly. He went slow at first, sinking in till he was buried inside you with a low groan. Ned tried to wait a moment, allow you to adjust, but your hips moved back, and he lost all his honour.

He gripped your hips tightly, fingertips burning flesh as he began thrusting. The bed began to jolt, the wooden headboard beginning to hit off the stone wall, but the noises didn’t matter. Especially not when he could still hear the sweet moans coming from your mouth.

His hand reached around your hips, moving to rub fast circles on your clit making you clench around him. “Fuck,” he began to murmur but he wasn’t ready just yet. His other hand moved to push your back down, deepening your arch till his cock was able to hit another spot he had found many times.

As you felt him begin to pound the familiar nerves your moans became louder even as you buried your face into the pillow. A familiar tightening spread across your stomach as your peak threatened to spill only to be encouraged by your husbands’ words.

“Come on,” Ned mumbled, his thrusts becoming messy, “Let go. You know you want to,” he said, “Just c’mon and-fuck,” he gasped as he felt your body tighten and your walls clench around him again. A loud moan left your lips as you felt your peak crash over you, but the feeling just made his thrusts harder.

Curses fell from his lips as he fucked you through your peak just to hit his own. His eyes tightened, his body tensing, but his thrusts didn’t stop till he had ensured he’d fucked his seed deep inside you, enjoying the feeling of filling you up.

Ned paused for a moment, trying to catch his breath as he felt his cock begin to go soft. As he pulled out, he smirked briefly at the sight of you dripping before collapsing onto the bed beside you. “Are you okay my love?” he asked, reaching to his bedside drawer to pull out a fresh rag.

“Yes,” you laughed as your husband moved to clean you up, “Are you sweet husband?”

“More than okay,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy  @valeskafics

[redqueenriverjoy]

Serve God... love me

and mend ♥️

[back2bluesidex]

Your Lips, My Lips - Apocalypse - JHS (18+)

Pairing: Demi God!Hoseok X Fem!Reader

Theme: Angst, explicit SMUT, open ending, fantasy au

Wordcount: 2.0k

Summary: You are lonelier than anyone he has ever witnessed. Your loneliness comes with an intensity that matches his, maybe that’s why he is so attracted to you? Maybe that’s why he wants to give you his final moments of existence?

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, loneliness, kind of philosophical, explicit sex, unprotected sex (it's a no no), it's kind of sad. NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: It's my man's birthday in less than 24 hours! Yoo-hoo! *sigh* only if he knew that I exist and I love him with my everything. *another sigh* but it's okay! Jung Hoseok, I love you regardless. And I hope you are happy and healthy.

and to my precious readers. hope you guys enjoy this short babie. let me know how is it, if you want! (also if you feel this is My Demon coded then that's right. But I haven't even watched the drama lmao!)

Hoseok can’t read humans’ minds and he thinks it's a handicap. 

No matter how much he loathes the fact, he, still, is a demi-god. One prefix in his title has pushed him down in the hierarchy, taken away his right of authority, his right of serving the verdict and he hates it all. 

But what he hates the most is that he is left with this half-assed power of sensing despair in humans but is totally unable to do anything about it. 

His hand itches to right all wrongs whenever he comes across something that should not be happening, that should be mended by the gods above. On those occasions, he curses those so-called gods a little more than usual. 

What did they say? That Hoseok meddles too much in human business? Just because he saved a 5 years old from a deadly accident? That he has no right to change their fate? That he is just a lowly god that is not even worshiped? That he is to be perished into ash as soon as he changes another human's life directly or indirectly? 

Huh! As if he cares. 

He actually does. Not that he is scared of turning into scattered dust and disappearing into air, but he wants to change someone’s life before he does. 

If he is going to disappear, then he might as well do something worthy of disappearing. 

Like getting to know you, offering you with his company and changing your fate of being alone even if it’s just for a night. 

It has been 2157 years since Hoseok has descended to earth and he has been keeping receipts of every single day. 

He has come across a lot of humans and their despair but he hasn’t done anything. He held himself back and waited for that one final occasion. 

He knew that final occasion was going to be you as soon as his eyes landed upon your figure a year ago. 

That day, he walked into this dimly lit pub to enjoy a glass of whiskey that he came to love so much and to observe some humans for his own record. 

That was then, you walked in. 

More beautiful than some of the goddesses they worship, more mysterious than those unearthly creatures and you made him more intrigued than he had been for 2156 years of his time on earth.  

And also, you are lonelier than anyone he has ever witnessed. Your loneliness comes with an intensity that matches his, maybe that’s why he is so attracted to you? Maybe that’s why he wants to give you his final moments of existence? 

Just like any other Friday night, you are sitting in your usual spot. Tonight you have chosen Gin and Lime to be your companion. 

You look as unapproachable as ever, so much so that even Hosekok feels weak on his knees while gliding smoothly towards you. 

Your eyes are trained on your smartphone when Hoseok slips beside you and heaves a little “hey” to grab your attention. 

You look up at him, your eyes meet him and he knows he is going to be one of those very few lucky men whom you don’t ignore.  

And then you smile, an unusual, non-formalitic and genuine one, and greet him back, “hi”. 

He is astonished to find you keep smiling at him, “Do you mind if I-” 

“Not at all. I have been waiting for you to approach me for a good 10 months now.” you cut him off. 

Hoseok is astonished yet again, or maybe shocked will be a better word. He knows not everyone can notice him. He is noticeable only when he actually wants to be, for instance by being noticeable to the bartenders, so that he can enjoy his drinks. 

But he never intentionally allowed himself to be noticed by you. Or maybe he did? Because all along that’s what he actually wanted? 

“Ah really? You noticed me then?” he breathes slowly, trying not to scare you away. 

“It’s impossible not to notice someone as good-looking as you. On top of that you are a regular here and you look as lonely as I am.” you voice fades by the time your sentence ends. You punctuate it with a sigh. 

He gives you a tainted smile. It’s the first time someone has caught upon his despair too. For the first time he doesn’t feel things are terribly one-sided. For the first time he is not pitying a human but resonating with her. For the first time he feels his ending inching closer. 

“I am Hoseok, by the way.” Hoseok introduces himself while ordering his usual.

“I am Y/N” you reply. Your name rings in his ears, even though he already knew who you were and what you do, but hearing you introducing yourself to him has some weird effects on him. 

“Do you always have the same thing?” you point towards his whiskey. 

“Yeah. I’m not a great fan of alcohol.” he replies calmly. 

“Oh. then what is it, you are a fan of?” 

“Humans.” 

You laugh at it. A clear, ringing laugh that sends tingles to every corner of his body. 

“As if you are not one of us.” you say breathlessly when you are done laughing. 

“Maybe I am not.” Hoseok adds quietly. 

You look intrigued now. Your eyes are filled with a playful glint that has replaced the hazy loneliness. 

“Good then. I hate human beings, even though I am one of them. Maybe I hate myself as well? Who knows.” and within an instant, your despair is back. It is now clouding above your head. Hoseok can see it clearly and he wants to blow the smoke away. 

“Why so?” He places his question delicately. 

“They have done nothing to be loved. At least not the ones I have shared or am sharing my time with.” you sigh. “Even though I am moving on with time, moving on from people and situations, I am going nowhere. It’s as if I am stuck in an endless loop of time and things keep repeating on their own accord.”

Hoseok feels your every word deep in his bones. He has been stuck in this limbo for a long time as well. Feeling people’s pain and being able to do nothing about it is even more painful. And he can’t take it anymore. But tonight he will end it all.. 

“Do you want me to change it? Do you want me to take away your despair?” he says finally, “just answer in yes or no.” his voice feels hoarse all of a sudden. 

You sit straight. It seems as if you can tell how serious he is being. And maybe that’s why you nod a yes. 

Hoseok’s nails dig into your naked waist. His lips trail down the path of your throat, painting bruises on your skin. 

You moan his name when he bites down on the crook of your neck. He feels alive after all these years. The beating of our heart, vibrates into his own chest making him want to be a human like you, for you. 

Your fingers are tangled on his jet black hair. The delicious friction of your nails on his scalp is everything. He works his way to unclasp your bra, throws it away somewhere in your dark room and sets his eyes on your chest. 

“Beautiful. So beautiful for me.” he murmurs as he takes a nipple in his mouth. One of his hands slips into your underwear and finds your sensitive bundle of nerves while the other one massages your unoccupied breast. 

“Oh Hoseok!” you sigh in containment. 

It’s been so long since anyone has called him by his name. Things feel unreal at this point.

Hoseok drives you towards your bed and gently lays you down without breaking the contact with your skin. 

Two of his fingers play with your clit while his mouth dives down the valley of your breast, reaches your naval, and heads towards you core. 

“Hoseok! Quit foreplay! I need you inside me.” You whine while tugging at his hair. Your fingers join his inside your underwear. You take his hand out, pull it towards your mouth and suck your juices from his fingers. 

Hoseok can clearly see his end approaching. But he doesn’t regret it. 

You are warm, slippery and incredibly addicting when he enters you. His cock glides smoothly through your entrance. He thrusts with a force that will satisfy you but won’t break you, reaping out melodic moans from your mouth. 

“Fuc-fuck Hoseok! You feel so-so good! I can’t- ngh” and you cum on his godly cock.

Hoseok sees stars at this point. How can a human being be this addictive? How is he supposed to leave you behind if you keep holding him back like this? How? 

He spills inside you, ropes after ropes of cum shoots inside your pussy, some even leak out and drips down your inner thigh to your bed sheet. 

Both of you are trying to catch your breath but it’s time he ends both of your sufferings. So he climbs on your bed and hovers above your freshly fucked body. Your body glistens with a sheen of sweat, he can’t get enough of you. 

“Y/N” he calls your name and you open your eyes, look directly into his eyes and offer him a weak but genuine smile. 

“I am going to kiss you now. After the kiss, I will disappear, but so does your loneliness, you despair. I will take away the pain you suffer from.” he says in a breath. 

“Hoseok..” you murmur weakly, but before you can say anything any further, Hoseok is kissing you. He cups your face and dives into the kiss. 

The kiss is full of passion and pain, rainbow and rain.. 

Two pairs of your lips mold perfectly with each other, tasting every ounce of your mouth, your life, your soul.

But Hoseok feels it. His legs are not on your bed anymore, those have started to dissipate into air in the form of fine ash. It reaches to his torso, his chest and then his face. A single tear leaves his eyes before he fades away completely. 

And all of a sudden everything is blank. 

It’s been two weeks since you had that weirdly realistic dream. You can still remember his face, his voice but somehow his name has slipped out of your memory. As if he himself doesn’t want you to remember what he was called. 

Or is it just you? Is it because your loneliness has become way too overbearing for you now that you are making up sex scenarios with non-existent perfect men and hallucinating them everywhere? 

You should book an appointment with a therapist. You need it. 

“Excuse me, Ms. Y/N?” the voice comes from right beside you. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice that the bus stop wasn't empty anymore. 

“You dropped your employee ID on the way” the voice speaks again as the man comes to stand before you. 

“Oh shoot! Thanks a lot.” you take your ID from him and look up with a smile. 

But it vanishes and you are shocked to find out that the man of your dream is standing right before you. 

The voice, too, is similar. The only difference you can find is that this guy is filled with boisterous energy, he is less dark than the man in your dream. 

“Did I scare you? You look like you have seen a ghost?” the man laughs. 

“I- I ah..” you fumble with your words, “you look like someone I knew.” you laugh back awkwardly. 

“Oh I see.” he pauses for a bit, “I am Hoseok, By the way.” he continues, extending a hand towards you. 

“Hi Hoseok. I am Y/N” You wrap your palm around his. 

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie @violetsiren90

[cashmere-caveman]

serve god, love me and mend is such an absolutely insane piece of television actually. directly paralleling mitchell and his relationship to his housemates (mostly george, but annie too!!! i will not stand for annie erasure) with carl and his gay lover and foreshadowing the doom he will bring upon them by holding them dear while trying to keep clean explicitly Because he is trying to stay sober for them and he loves them is so. like the mixed record of their addict rep aside. the queercoding that they cooked up in the bbc writers rooms back in the aughts was something else wdym george got jealous that mitchell, a century old vampire, has lived w other people before and then u have a whole story about one of those guys in question and his human live in boyfriend and the story is how they tried to live the exact same way mitchell is doing it rn and it ended in disaster death and heartbreak. and then one season later mitchells situation with his live in human (werewolf) boy best friend and girlfriend ends in disaster death and heartbeak. for the exact same reasons

[mothiir]

romancing the lion

You are not going to be courted in any sense of the word - you think you’ll get knightly romance? Nope, you need to study your history and realise that most of the courtly romances were told to entertain and had no more bearing on actual Caliban courtship than mills and boon has on today’s dating scene. Even if they were the norm, the lion is a feral child of the wastes who believes he is quite literally gods gift. He’s not doing any of that.

instead, the first indication of his interest is going to be indistinguishable from literal kidnap. You’re a serf? Well done, you’re not serving him exclusively. You’re a noble woman? Congrats, you’re now a serf serving him exclusively. Diplomat? Guess. And try telling him no. Go on. Try it. This is a promotion you do not get to say no to.

does this mean that he is now nice to you - absolutely not of course it isn’t. He isn’t nice to anyone. He doesn’t even really have the words for the feelings he is feeling for you. This applies to him in the 30th millennium and the 41st btw. Either iteration is equally bad with emotion. The older version of him is less likely to start killing people you love so you’ve got that going for you.

the fact is that now you have his total attention and that means you get ordered about constantly because his love language is acts of service which means you will be serving. Think the princess bride but a little less wholesome. “Mend my armour. Make my food. Prepare my beard oil. Spend time with my watchers.”

At this stage you probably think he is planning to kill you. He can’t stop staring at you. Every little thing you do seems to to infuriate him. You’re not to know that this is his brand of cuteness aggression.

he will kill things for you. Like a cat dumping dead lizards on a doorstep. It’s what he’s good at and it’s how he shows affection. If you have enemies they are now dead. If you are a normal person with no mortal enemies he will just kill the biggest scariest things and ensure you see him do it. Do you feel aroused yet?

when he takes you to his bed he will be under the impression he has been incredibly obvious with his intentions and you will be completely taken aback

he is not suave. His pick up line is: “come to bed with me.” Or: “come to my chambers to see to my needs.”

he’s a virgin. War always took priority over sex for him. He will try and mount you without any prep, flipping you onto your front and clambering aboard.

he will blame you for not being open for him. For being too tight to fit him. He’s seen women give birth he knows how this works.

(he saw one woman give birth once and has extrapolated)

40th millennium him will be a little less grumpy about this but will still insist that you are doing something wrong. You will have to coax him through the business of foreplay which should be easy enough as long as you suck his dick. As soon as he realises that’s an option he’ll be happy to hold off on actually penetrating you as long as you keep licking

Will get annoyed at you for walking too slowly and carry you. There is no choice in this

basically be prepared for the most aggressive care you’ve experienced in your life - on the one hand he will yell at you for being stupid and human and frail, on the other he will carry you on his shoulder like a tame kestrel and hand feed you “because you’re too foolish to take care of yourself”

[danosrosegarden]

I am patiently. Waiting for Vulnerable Sub Wesker

(Words I Never Thought I'd Say)

angst/suggestive drabble underneath the cut! ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

{gn!reader, ~500 words}

{this is my first time writing for wesker, so if this is very much a "he would not fucking say that" situation, please just avert your eyes and ignore me. i come in peace, fear, and admiration for all RE writers. <3}

there's no comfort in vulnerability. there's no crackling campfire warmth to be felt from slicing yourself open and letting all your grotesque guts spill forward. you crush anything that doesn't serve you well and you push its corpse all the way down in the ground. nobody sees you when you're not efficient because nobody has the fucking right. at least that's how wesker saw it. so why it felt like something missing was finally locking into place whenever he was beneath you, he really had no idea.

that bothers him. the not knowing. the not being able to explain. it burrows underneath his skin and he can feel its maggoty writhing. you and this entrancing power you hold over his head feel so entirely right, and it all disarms him fiercely.

it would be simple to abandon. he could convince himself quite easily to saw at the strings of whatever this relationship was and cut you loose. but then, he knew it would eat at him. it would gnaw at the wrinkles of his brain and chomp on the marrow of his bones...where were you? what were you doing? were you safe? were you...accompanying someone else? god, why did he care at all?

intrigue. that's what he first chalked this all up to be. simple intrigue. you weren't fearful, you didn't bow down. that sparked a gleaming flame of curiosity within him. but he felt the seed growing roots. this was something more.

maybe whatever this was didn't need explanation. it was foolish to let his guard down this low. he knew. but there was simply no ignoring how gentle you were with him. your fingers brushed against his skin with a soft intimacy the likes of which he'd never knew he desired. that's the unfair advantage--care and compassion and warmth and love were probably concepts you'd been bottle-fed and raised upon. and he wasn't aware how desperately he needed your tender touch until he'd felt it.

it was almost mechanical, the way everything within him relaxed and glazed over when your fingers were in his hair or your body was wrapped up and tangled with his. there was no way to bring himself to care about the work--meticulous plans, cold calculations--none of it mattered in those moments. that's why you were a screaming neon warning sign. the skull and crossbones label on a sour smelling bottle of chemicals. you were dangerous.

you're confused. you feel the stitches of your heart start to snap and unravel whenever he does this. he becomes warm, gooey putty in your hands, offering the quietest sighs and holding you with the most gentle but protective grip, and then he shoos you away to an arm's length when it's over. you can't help but wonder if this was all a knotted ball of messy blunders. a series of unfortunate events. you wondered if you'd look back at this man and the memories like they were bad movies. the corners of the film would be curled with age, blackened by the nights you wished you'd never indulged in.

there was no way to break even for either of you. the truth was that you'd already melted and mended together in a strange, strange way.

[hell-drabbles]

Raphael 1

Summary: Out of boredom, Raphael let’s you take a bite out of him. Out of boredom, Raphael accidentally discovers a new kind of ecstasy.

(Man, imagine how weird it must be to be a stray angel or demon watching Raphael get ripped apart by the Companion while enjoying every moment of it.)

What is stopping Raphael from just taking a bite out of you? It’s not as if, in the state you’re in now, you would have the consciousness to stop him from ripping you apart and stuffing you down his throat.

Your strength was, in the end, less than that of a naturally crafted angel. You could topple buildings onto him in your blind rage, but in the end, Raphael would come out unscathed. He was made by the loving hand of God, after all. Such things wouldn’t leave so much as a bruise.

But, what was he doing, under you? Why was he letting you dig your fingers into his ribs? Why was he letting you sink your teeth into his shoulder, letting you have a taste of him when no one but God should be allowed the privilege?

Perhaps it was boredom. Raphael’s tongue has long since stopped enjoying the taste of demons and angels. No different than any of the food served in Heaven. Nothing more than textures that serve to fill his stomach. He only continues because of that momentary it brings, the cries and praises that blend together in his head just by the act of taking a bite out of those people.

And, just to escape that haze of monotony, he let you pin him down. He let you ravage him in all of your angelic rage.

But his blood brings nothing. He sees it flow down the cobblestone street, hears the wet, almost plastic breaking of his ribs as you pulled him apart.

Ah, how boring. How well and truly boring.

But then you stopped, froze in place as though ice replaced your blood. You sat up and the golden dancing rings in your eyes had vanished.

All Raphael could see was the wide-eyed stare of a horrified human.

Your jaw loosened and out fell a piece of himself. It landed right on the back of his tongue, bathed in your saliva. Bathed in both your hungry angelic grace, and your horrified, clear, lucidity.

Bliss flooded over his tongue, made his throat tingle, and his body sing. He closed his mouth, chewed slowly as you shoved yourself off him. You spat out over the road as demon after demon were slaughtered by his angel army, as Raphael’s body slowly mended together.

And when he could chew no more, Raphael swallowed it down with a shivering sigh.

“Hey,” you didn’t look to him, continuing to spit his blood out, but he didn’t care all that much. He could lick it up later. “Do that again. Bite me, and feed it to me.”

You didn't hear him. You froze over once again, shivered, then slumped. And the rings in your eyes spun in all their kaleidoscope patterns. Ah, you can't hear him anymore, head filled with the leftover light of God.

Well, he can ask again later, when you're both back up in Heaven.

[kaeyahiya]

"Unrequited Enemies" (NSFW)

-------- ••• ------- ✧ °✧° ✧ -------- ••• -------

Pairing: Ayato x Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW/Explicit content, use of y/n if that bothers you,use of feminine parts, enemies to lovers (kinda), swearing, and mentions of marking, a little bit of angst, a little bit of smut

Disclaimer: This is intended for adult viewing only, I have plenty of SFW content on my master list so please check that out instead. I am strongly discouraging and actively not condoning the consummation of this content for anyone who is a minor.

Word count: 5687 OH MY GOD???

Authors note: This is LONG the longest thing I think I've written to date. This counts as like a full fic, should be like a multi chapter type beat. It's a long read but dare I say this might be my best work yet. Anway, I haven't written anything for Ayato bc he was a faceless ncp before I went on my hiatus.... I am also in love with man and couldn't stand the thought of this. Hence I'm writing a self serving fic bc I'm incredibly selfish rn and need some of this man in my life. Also I enjoy a good enemies to lovers troupe sue me!! ALSO ALSO THIS IS GENDERED HAHAHAHA finally if you see my master list it's all been GN so ha I did it. Anyway enjoy me being selfish 🧍🏻‍♂️(edit) Future self here... This took me almost a month to write, this turned into a novel and I apologize....

This will also be crossposted on my A03 probably bc of the girth of this beast. You can read it: Here if you prefer that interface better

-------- ••• ------- ✧ °✧° ✧ -------- ••• -------

Working under the Kamisato's was a blessing. Truly it was. You considered yourself exceptional in hospitality and an ace seamstress. That's how the Kamisato clan sought you out.

Lady Ayaka was kind, the easy one to put it bluntly. Her tasks were normal simply as asking you to clean her linens or making small repairs on her formal wears. (Which Thoma would normally jump in to help, cleaning and sewing was also his forte). Genuinely, she was the nicest noble person you've ever seen, still managing to keep an air of excellence and gracefulness to her despite her overly kind nature. 

Working there is what kept you and your family fed and you were able to have a safe haven during the Vision Hunt Degree when being a vision holder yourself was hard to avoid.

However, working under the Kamisato's wasn't easy work by any means.

The head of the household was where the issue lied when it came to your work. Kamisato Ayato, you swear had it out for you since you arrived to work for them. One day he'd have you doing mundane tasks like taking inventory of the spices in the kitchen, and the next it would be making him tea over and over until it was the exact temperature he liked.

Not to mention all the constant repairs on his clothes you'd have to do, whether it be taking care of personal matters or training with his sister he'd always come back with piles of clothes in need of huge repairs.

You probably would have punched the pretty smirk off of "Lord Ayato's" face if it wasn't for poor Thoma keeping you afloat. You feel bad but while he cooks, you normally lament your frustrations to him. He'll occasionally offer his support or advice, since after all he's your senior and also a fellow outsider of Inazuma.

"Miss, your presence is requested in Lord Ayato's office." the guard locks eyes with you. You want to groan in agony, you were hungry and tired but still you mustered a smile. " I'll head over right now, thank you."  You say with a small bow. Once the guard exits you you finally let out a long groan looking to Thoma for support. "Can't you go instead, at least you can put up with his nonsense." You sigh exasperated.

After one particularly frustrating day of repairing both Lord Ayato's and Lady Ayaka's training wear entirely and aiding another with mending their Shinai Practice Swords (The bamboo ones, commonly used in kendo??), which were almost beyond repair. You find yourself once again in the kitchen with Thoma going on and on about the day before a dreaded guards men enter.

Thoma chuckles. "I believe a 'Miss' was summoned, I'd be scolded if I showed up, besides I'm cooking. Unless you wanna deliver food to the entire staff and the Lord and Lady." You wrap him lightly on the back of his shoulder. " Fine, but if I wind up dead it's your fault." You joke. You excuse yourself and exit the kitchen; then head for your doom, Lord Kamisato's office.

-

You stand outside his office, the dimly lit Shoji (those paper sliding door things?) showing the silhouette of menace himself just waiting for you.  "(Y/N) here My Lord." You grit your teeth. "You may enter." You can almost hear the sadistic smile in his voice. Sliding open the door you're immediately confused on why you are here.

Ayato looked right as rain, clean and on top of that his office looked organized and practically sparkling (you'll have to thank Thoma for that later), boba tea full, and a small before dinner snack fully eaten. What more could he need at this hour. "Ah yes, Miss (Y/N)" his eyes lock with yours. "I've seemed to have spilled ink on my clothes. I need them cleaned immediately before dinner is finished." Though the room was dimly lit, you could clearly see there was no ink anywhere on Ayato's clothing.

"My lord I don't-" before you can even finish getting the word's out, Ayato takes the ink on his desk and proceeds to dump its contents all over his clothing. All the while that signature sadistic smile plastered on his face. You face contorts, you try to conceal the seething hot rage from pouring out of your mouth. (Un)Luckily Ayato speaks first. "I'm sorry you were going to say something? Go ahead, I apologize for my clumsiness."

Your mouth opens but you quickly close it. You're dumbfounded. His informal attire is mostly white, similar to his training attire, getting ink of that amount out in such a short amount of time would be nearly impossible. As you continue to stand there in silence you can see Ayato absolutely blossom with happiness.

A few more seconds pass until you collect yourself enough to speak calmly. "I'll fetch you some other clothing to change into while I tend to your..." Your eyes narrow at him. " Accident. " Words laced with venom at the end. He nods, smiling. " Go ahead, I'll be right here. Do be quick though, I hear ink is a pain to get out the longer you leave it. " He smirks.

You bow rigidly before bolting out the door to his quarters to grab him some fresh clothing.  Returning to the lion's den, you announce yourself once more. "You may enter," Ayato calls out again. Sliding open the door he promptly stands up this time.

You don't say a word but hold out the clean clothes to him. "My my, that was fast." He smiles. You don't answer but begin to turn to exit so he can change in private.  "No need to be so shy. You're practically one of my retainers at this point. "

You quickly turn around deciding to face the door instead of him, face red with embarrassment this time. You hear the rustling of the rest of his clothes. After a few awkward quiet moments with your thoughts filled with annoyance and somehow Lord Ayato's bare chest and perfect stupid abs, he finally speaks again. "I'm dressed." You pivot to see him again, back in pristine condition, however not bothering to pick up the ink stained clothes off the ground.

Retainer??? Since when? Where's your pay raise? That's all that runs through your mind as you stare at him dumbfounded. You don't realize until you snap out of your train of thought Ayato has already started stripping, his bare chest on full display. "Miss (Y/N) I don't mind if you watch, but watching me so intensely is unnecessary." You didn't think that smirk could get any bigger but it does.

You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding in and kneel to grab the stained clothes scattered around his feet. You go to grab a sleeve and the bastard has his foot still on the article of clothing. Giving it a little tug as a hint to move, Ayato simply looks down at you with a smile. "Oh my apologies, didn't realize I was standing on it and hindering your precious time to get those pesky stains out." He steps out of your way and plants himself back to his desk. Asshole is all that runs through your mind as you gather the clothes.

Once again you quickly excuse yourself and rush to the medical bay to grab some balls of cotton and rubbing alcohol. Storming back into the kitchen you decide you need to get this frustration out and combat this stain at the same time.

-

You definitely startle Thoma as you slide open the Shoji with little to no care of its fragility. "Listen I'm sorry, Lord Ayato is fucking awful."  You say holding up the stained clothing to accentuate your point.

You recount your encounter with the Lord of the house to Thoma all the while desperately scrubbing the ink out with the rubbing alcohol. "He's a sadist Thoma, he hates me I'm sure of it. Why on earth would he do this." Thoma turns to the area of the table you're vigorously scrubbing at ,now almost finished with dinner at this point, offers you a pot of cold water and soap to help you finish cleaning the stain. "That's just Lord Ayato, and hey maybe it was a genuine mistake."  He shrugs. "Thoma, I saw him pick it up and dump it on himself."

You move over a bit to let Thoma work his laundry magic. Taking the garment from you, which was now almost its original color, he washes it in the aforementioned cold soapy water. After some more scrubbing he pulls it out. Looking as radiant as it did on Ayato before he went and soiled it.  "Thoma I'm sorry for roping you into this... I appreciate you." He smiles nudging you softly. " Stop that, you'd do the same for me if I needed that level of help. " You're glad Thoma is always here to save your ass. 

"I may have done the best I can but it won't dry before dinner, since I'm almost done with it." You grab your Anemo Vision and wave it in front of him and he lets out a 'Oh yeah...' before he smiles radiantly. "You got this then, dry it quick and as soon as you're done I'll serve dinner. Hopefully that'll buy you a bit of time. " You bow to Thoma, thanking him profusely. You exit the kitchen before running to the courtyard to swiftly dry the Lord's clothes with a little help from your Vision.

-

After making quick work of drying the clothes. (Thank you Anemo Archon). You inspect the clothes one last time and decide they are pristine enough for him. Carefully folding them, you proceed to slide down the hall to Ayato's office once more. 

For the final time of the night you announce yourself. "Miss (Y/n) back so soon?" he says as you enter. His eyes narrow in on the clothes in your hands. "I'm more than pleased with your speediness. However, folding them will definitely crease them." You wordlessly unfold the clothes, gesturing to the creaseless stainless garments. "I see... Very well then, I will change after dinner."  

His eyes light up again and you regret opening your stupid mouth. "Ah yes, Thoma should be along with my dinner soon. My arms are awfully tired from writing documents all evening..." There it is again that fucking sadistic grin. "Stay here and feed me will you?" You can't stop the words from spilling out of your mouth. "What? Why?" Clapping a hand over your mouth. He didn't like that, you can tell as you watch sadism on his face fade to confusion. "Because you serve under me and I'm telling you to do so." 

Taking the clothes from your hands, Ayato purses his lips briefly as your fingers touch during the exchange.  You grimace at him, typical of him to be disgusted by touching you even for a millisecond. You quickly rearrange your face before asking the dreaded question. "Can I help you with anything else my Lord?"

Right. You forgot. You're supposed to be like Thoma, a loyal dog who does what it's told. Maybe that's what you're supposed to do but this was an outlandish request. However, knowing the wrath of Kamisato Ayato, you flop yourself in the corner in defeat, not bothering to put up a fight. You press your knees up to your chest, glancing at Ayato's, once again, happy smirk. He too proceeds to sit back down, at his desk.

A heavy silence fills the room as Ayato resumes his work. You want to yell at him, kick and scream, but overall you just wanted to cry. You're so embarrassed for what's to come and your mind is reeling. The tears brimming your eyes burn as you try to continue putting on a strong front. You refuse to let this asshole see you cry.

Thoma must be taking his time because amongst the scribbling mixed in with silence you have a lot of time to think. You evaluate your position. You signed up for this, but did you really? A maid sure, but dealing with a sadistic brat? No, that wasn't in the job description. Or maybe that was the plan all along, maybe it just happened along the way? You weren't sure at this point and you felt bitter and defeated.

"Lord Ayato?" Your voice comes out horse. "Hmm?" He questions. "Why do you trouble me with the most torturous and utterly embarrassing tasks?" You stare him down. He looks shocked you dare question his authority. He opens his mouth to answer? maybe yell at you? But as if the Archons themselves are taunting you, Thoma announces himself. "My Lord you dinner is ready, may I enter?" Ayato fixes his gaze on you for a second longer than needed before responding to Thoma. "Thoma. Yes, you may enter." He answers 

Thoma comes in hands full of all of the dishes Ayato requested tonight. He almost doesn't see you in the corner for a second but being the loyal retainer he is, the actual retainer of Ayato, he says nothing but shoots you a sympathetic glance. "Thoma, please let Miss (Y/n) help you with the rest of your food deliveries. I wish not to be disturbed the rest of the night." Ayato says using a voice he normally only uses when talking with other officials. It's cold, a lot colder than usual. The blood drains from your face and a knot forms in your stomach, you fucked up big time.  

-

Three days. It was three days of terrifying tranquility, free of summoning from Lord Ayato.

Lady Ayaka assured you, as well as your job, were fine. The looming anxiety however had you on edge, you couldn't sleep fearing you'd be assassinated in the middle of the night. After all Kamisato Ayato hated being questioned, the only thing you were sure he hated more was you. Death would be the only solution right? 

You were in the courtyard, it was evening and everyone was eating dinner. Thoma approached you gently tapping your shoulder. "Dinner is ready for you in the maid's quarters... But uh, Lord Ayato wishes to see you in his quarters before dinner." He says sheepishly. You groan looking to Thoma “If you don't see me tomorrow, assume the worst." You joke but deep down felt your stomach drop. It had been three days of not seeing him, who knows what kind of punishment you'd receive. 

Thoma gave you a reassuring smile as you bid him farewell and headed from the courtyard to the personal quarters of Kamisato Ayato. It's not like you haven't been there before, but something still felt off about addressing your punishment not in his office but your room. 

So there you were, standing in front of the looming door to the man who was about to decide your fate. You swallow hard before addressing your arrival. "My Lord, (Y/n) here. Thoma said you requested my presence..." Your voice came out a lot shakier than you'd like to admit. Frankly you were terrified. There was, what felt like, an eternity of silence before he finally responded. "Come in."

Your hands waver as you pull the Shoji door open. It was almost pitch black inside Ayato's room. He was sitting under a Kotatsu with his dinner finished. His eyes immediately fixed on you as you entered. "Miss (Y/n) please sit. There's something I'd like to discuss with you." Fuck. Your family will be so upset if you lose this job, what will you do for work, where will you live? Sure you hate Ayato but you for the most part enjoy your job and- No no no you can't spiral right now. 

You suck in a composed breath and take a seat opposite him under the Kotatsu. "What is it, my Lord?" You ask meekly. He closes his eyes, sighing. "I.. You see.." He's uncharacteristically fidgety. "My sister has brought it to my attention that I've been causing you much strife lately." You want to laugh, lately he says, it's been since day one but okay sure. You grit your teeth. "As you said before, I serve under you. It's my duty, I suppose." You respond promptly. As much as it hurts your pride to admit you needed this job. You belong here and you won't go down without a fight. "I see." He says, sighing again. 

" (Y/n)... You loathe me do you not?" He locks eyes with you, as if boring directly into your soul. " My Lord, of course not. I'm grateful to serve the Kamisatos." He shakes his head. " Miss (Y/n), from the moment you arrived here you've seemed to take a disliking to me. I'm just trying to understand what started it. Please be cooperative." 

Huh? You? You're the problem in this situation? You know what fuck your job. "Kamisato Ayato, I do believe from the moment I arrived here you've made me do the most outlandish things and have, frankly, acted like a brat. If anyone hated anyone first it'd be you." You bang your fist on the table of the Kotatsu. "I'm a mere maid trying to make a living, not a babysitter or a toy for a spoiled noble's amusement." 

He has the audacity to laugh. "I'm sorry I seem to be missing the joke here my Lord. Please share so I too can laugh at the very serious call concerns I just raised." You glare at him. He smiles trying to suppress his laughter. "(Y/n) no one has ever talked to me like that before..." You pause. You've never seen Ayato look so pleased in your presence before. 

"Shamefully I'll admit, I enjoyed hearing your true feelings about me." He fidgets under the Kotatsu again. "For the record, I never hated you. I enjoy teasing you, and I'll admit I take things to an extreme. For that I apologize for the suffering I put you through." You're stunned at his apology. The head of the Kamisato clan apologized to you? " My Lord I..." Your words catch in your throat and all the anxiety built over the past three days spills out of your eyes. The one thing you swore you'd never do happens, you're crying in front of Ayato. 

Instinctively Ayato rushes to your side of the Kotatsu kneeling next to you handing you his handkerchief. You take it and turn away from him as you try to repress your sobs. "(Y/n) I'm so sorry, I didn't realize... I..." He turns you to face him. His face is almost unrecognizable, maybe from the blurry vision of your tears, but his face laced with pure concern and gentleness. "I apologize for being so bold to ask but my I... Hug... You?" H u h?  Your world feels like it's been turned upside-down. Ayato is being nice to you, and the craziest part is you kind of enjoy how it makes you feel. A half hour ago you would've never dreamed you'd be in this situation. 

You cautiously nod and Ayato gently pulls your much smaller form into his chest. You sniff, still calming down from your episode. Ayato gently strokes your back. It sends shivers down your spine but you don't... hate it?? You're conflicted at this moment. A man who was once so cruel to you is now being the perfect gentleman. 

While battling your thoughts Ayato fills the silence. "When my sister and I were young, she would often hurt herself by accident. While she cried, I'd hold her like this until she would calm down." You hum softly. You're unsure what to say. This whole situation feels like a twisted dream. You feel like any moment you'd wake up in your bed and the sinister Ayato you'd known up until now would return.

You glance up at him, his eyes are closed as he still is gently stroking your back. He looks peaceful, a small gentle smile on his face. You dare even concur he looks rather handsome like this. Your face turns red as you now realize the situation you're in. Kamisato Ayato is holding you. Even worse, you're enjoying it.

One of his eyes opens and peers down at you. His smile gets wider but remains gentle still. "Feeling better?" He asks. "I think so. I apologize for my outburst My Lor-" "Ayato..." "Huh?" "You can apologize but please use my name, not my title." You snort with a smile, there's the Ayato you know. "I apologize for my actions Ayato. For the record as well, I don't hate you either." 

You pause for a brief second confused by your own confession, then words continue to spill out of your mouth. "I think I hated the way you treated me and just assumed you hated me. Besides you'd make me do silly things and would cause problems just for me to fix, making my life harder, it was frustrating but..." Ayato tips your chin up from his chest. You both stare at each other in silence.

Whatever rambles you had in your mind vanished and all you can think about now is how pretty his eyes are and how you never noticed until right now.  Ayato leans down, your lips inches apart from his, you can feel the heat of his lips radiating on to yours. "May I be bold once more Miss (Y/n)?"  You say nothing, you're absolutely frozen so he continues. "I think I did all of that because I'm positively enamored by you." Then closes the gap between the two of you, kissing you.

His lips are soft and as his hand moves from your back to your waist you find yourself kissing him back. It's gentle but tender, all that pent up rage for the man you once loathed melts and in this moment it feels like you two are the only ones in the world. He pulls away first. You stare at him, he looks positively breathtaking now. His other hand runs a finger over your bottom lip then joins his other hand on your waist. "If you hate it please tell me to stop, and I will." You shake your head. "Please... Continue."

-

His lips meet yours again this time with more passion. You wrap your arms around his neck and gently part your lips. Ayato takes this opportunity to deepen the kiss further, sliding his tongue gently into your mouth. His hands wonder about your body while he kisses you. You can't deny the sparks that follow in the wake of his touch. 

You part briefly to catch your breath and Ayato uses this as an opportunity to explore your neck. You tilt your head to the side giving him more access. He chuckles softly at your action. "So responsive." He teases against your neck. "Please keep your thoughts to yourself and keep kissin-" He bites down on your neck leaving whatever grip you had planned to die in throat and gets replaced with a soft moan. He lavishes the bite with his tongue and you're positive that's gonna be a mark you'll have to cover tomorrow morning. He tugs at the corner of your kimono staring into your eyes asking for silent permission to continue. 

Taking the hint you boldly slide down the shoulder of your kimono to let him continue. He smirks as continues his conquest from your neck to your newly exposed collarbones. Placing soft kisses on them while making quick work of sliding the top half of your kimono off, leaving the excess fabric to hang around your waist. The cold night air hits your skin leaving your exposed top half covered in goosebumps. Ayato reaches around to your back feeling for the clasp of your bra. "May I?" His voice comes out soft, filled with lust against the shell of your ear. "Please." You whimper.   He skillfully unclasped the bra freeing your breasts from the confines. Instinctively you cover your, your face bright red with embarrassment with another realization Kamisato Ayato, your boss, is about to see your naked body. 

Ayato wraps a warm hand around your wrist, planting a kiss on the inside of it. "If you're nervous we can stop here. If not..." His eyes wander to his bed, which is partially skewed from your vision due to the folding screen for Ayato's privacy sake. "No I want to continue... I just..." You laugh. "I don't want this to affect my job you know?" Ayato chuckles back. "I promise you it won't." You blush slowly unfolding your arms. "In that case..." He smiles, that's all the permission he needs and in one swift motion stands up and hoists your half clothes body over his shoulder, like you weighed nothing. 

He takes a few steps and throws you on to his bed, one you've made many times before and one you'll probably have to make again after this. He takes advantage of you getting comfortable to take off his top. You're once again faced with Ayato's bare torso, this time you are able to ogle at it as much as you'd like. "You're staring again." He says with a smug expression, climbing on the bed now towering over you. "Am I not allowed to My Lord?" You quip back. 

He raises an eyebrow and then you see that expression on him that you used to loathe, that sadistic smile. "I suppose I'll allow it tonight. I'll even do you one better." He once again grabs your wrists, this time places your hands on his bare chest, abs, shoulders. But Ayato being Ayato was in control of your movements Giving you the satisfaction of feeling his smooth skin but not giving you control to do so as you please. "Ayato..." You whine. He just laughs before releasing your hands and leans back down to kiss you again. 

While kissing you his hands wander to your breasts giving them a little squeeze. You can feel him smile in the kiss when you let out a small moan. "Sensitive?" He asks. You nod in response, worried your words will betray you. His kiss trails back down your neck to your breasts this time. Taking a nipple in his mouth and biting and suckling on it you can help but cover your mouth and whine in pleasure. He takes his other hand and messages the other breast pinching your other nipple occasionally. 

Your core was practically aching for friction at this point you wiggle your hips. Ayato's attention shifts again. "How cute.. Someone's needy." He says after releasing your breast from his mouth. He shifts his attention to untie your obi to get the rest of your pesky kimono out of the way. When he does you catch a glimpse of the sizable bulge in his pants. "I could say the same for you." You tease. "Can you blame me?" He responds as you lift your hips so you can let him discard your kimono on the floor. "Besides, your one to comment when your panties have a wet spot." He states bluntly as he slides off the bed dragging you by the hips to set you at the side of the bed. 

Ayato plays with the waistband of your panties eyes once again meeting your asking for silent permission to go on. As if you would stop him now. He must take your silence for reassurance because he drags your panties down your hips and discards them somewhere with your kimono. He parts your legs and spreads your pussy open. "You're soaked..." He sounds breathless as he stares at your glistening hole. "Don't stare!" You protest as you attempt to close your legs, admittedly flustered. Ayato, of course, overpowers you by keeping you legs spread and plants a firm's kiss on your clit. 

He takes his time eating you out. Making sure to tease all the spots he gets a good reaction out of you. Your grip on the beds' silken sheets will tear somehow. Ayato looks up at you making eye contact with you before sucking on you clit particularly hard. You almost cum right there. After a one more delicate kiss on your core he brings his fingers up to your mouth. "Suck on these for me please." He says. Instinctively you take his fingers in your mouth. The flush across his face as you tease the tips of his fingers is something you'll definitely be thinking about later. 

Once Ayato decides you've soaked his fingers enough he gently pulls them from your mouth. You let out a whine and Ayato takes the opportunity to spread your legs a bit wider. "Oral fixation... Good to know." He teases. Taking his now wet fingers he gently prods at your damp fold locking eyes with you as he slowly inserts a finger into you. You bring a hand out to cover the guttural moan that spills from your mouth. 

Ayato looks up at you, eyes boring into yours. "You better keep your voice down, we don't want the entire estate to know I'm giving my 'disobedient maid' a punishment. " He winks, and you click your tongue at him. Ayato quickly slides another finger into your hole before you can come up with something to throw back at him. 

Ayato scissors his fingers, opening you up for him. You feel close, that all too familiar high. "C.. close" is the only thing you can muster without being too loud, you were just so sensitive. He smiles sinisterly at you, rudely ripping his finger from your aching core. "Not yet, I want you to cum with me inside you." He bashfully explains. To think Kamisato Ayato is blushing, you still honestly can't tell if this is a fever dream or not.

While in your own thoughts Ayato shed the rest of clothing and you finally get to see his cock. It's definitely not going to fit... He's going to split you in half. You move to get off the bed to 'return the favor' but Ayato stops you. "Next time... I need you right now." Pushing you back down on the bed he grabs some oil stashed under his bed and lubes up his dick. Pumping it a few times for good measure. The anticipation is gnawing at you, as he runs his length in-between your folds. 

You open your mouth to tell him to hurry up, but his lips catch yours and he inserts himself into you. Ayato takes, what would have been an earth shattering groan, from your lips as he lets you adjust to his size. Pinning your arms above your head he peppers your face with kisses as your pain slowly morphs into pleasure. Eventually the pain stops and you relish in the feeling of being full, the glee of that gets old pretty fast and now all you want is Ayato to rail you into high heaven. 

You wiggle your hips as a gesture to show him you're ready and he smiles down at you. "Use your words... Ask me what you want." He's a fucking sadistic asshole. "Please?" You whine. "Please what? (Y/N), you always have something to say, why are you so shy now?" You hate him, tears of desperation fill your eyes. " Ayato please fuck me, I need you to fuck me. I can't-" You choke back a moan as Ayato slides all the way out of you and rams his dick back into you.  He buries his face into your neck. "Good girl." He praises before leaving yet another hickey you'll have to cover later. 

He sets a steady pace snapping his hips into yours. You can only imagine how fucked out you look right now. Ayato looks like an Archon himself above you, his furrowed brow and the sweat glistening on his forehead. To think you hated this man a few hours ago... Now look at you, completely at his mercy. The soft grunts he lets out next to your ear you wish to engrave in your memories forever. 

Ayato hits that spot inside you that makes your vision blur and you can't suppress the whine that spills out this time. "Ther..Fuck...There!" Ayato hones into that spot, causing you to fall over the edge. He gently thrusts in and out of you helping you ride out your orgasm. With the combination of your soft whines and how tight your climax made you, he pulls out and comes all over your stomach. 

With no strength left Ayato collapses, gently, onto you. "Noooo" you whine weakling. " My stomach is a mess now you're messy too." "I'll call for a maid to bring me a towel." You smack him and he laughs, rolling off you. He pushes himself up off the bed and grabs a small towel from a drawer. Gently tending to your cum covered stomach before attending to himself. You curl up on his bed, as you watch him as he grabs your clothes along with his. "So next time huh?" You smirk. "Pardon?" He freezes for a moment. "I owe you one, so you know... This doesn't have to be a one time thing." He clears his throat. "I wouldn't be opposed to that, I suppose."

 You push yourself up to grab your clothes from him but immediately regret it as every muscle in your body refuses to cooperate with you. You fall back on the bed Ayato chuckles softly. "Rest for a bit before leaving... Leaving too hastily will definitely cause more suspicion than leaving now anyway... " He lays back down on the bed pulling your body into his. "I didn't take you for a cuddler My Lord." You joke, followed by a yawn. He laughs, stroking your back just as softly as he did when you were crying. "Rest for a bit. I promise I'll wake you up in a bit." You nod sleepily into his chest. "Just for a bit is fine." You mumble before drifting off to sleep in Ayato's arms.

-------- ••• ------- ✧ °✧° ✧ -------- ••• -------

OH MY GOD I FINISHED IT HAHAHAHA GET ABSOLUTELY FUCKED PAST ME. If you read all of this I both sincerely apologize and thank you for reading my self serving fic. I hope you enjoyed it even a tiny bit.

[mrsdesade]

My Precious (headcanons of Loki comforting you in his own ways)

Timeline: unknown

TW: no one

Pairing: Loki x fem!y/n

Notes: this is for anyone who needs comfort and a gentle lover who is always here for you, enjoy your meal sweeties 🤍

"In this vast cosmos, you are my constant, the North Star guiding me through the realms. And I'll be yours. Never forget that."

his charming whispers would echo with sweet promises, assuring you that in his heart, you're the most precious gem.

in moments of darkness, he would create illusions to show you again your favorite memories, hoping to bring a smile to your face.

"Loki, what's your favorite thing about me?"

"Your unpredictability my dear; like the shifting winds, you keep me intrigued."

he'd surprise you with handwritten notes, each filled with poetic expressions of his love and admiration.

he would playfully steal kisses, leaving you blushing and breathless.

Loki would use his magic to create a sanctuary where you could escape the chaos, finding solace in each other's company.

his mischief would take a romantic turn as he arranges candlelit moments under the stars, declaring his affection in subtle gestures.

during sleepless nights, he'd stay by your side, sharing stories from unknown realms.

he would gift you trinkets from distant lands, each holding a hidden meaning that only the two of you share.

when doubts cloud your mind, he'd assure you with a touch, his eyes revealing a sincerity that goes beyond his mask.

Loki's laughter would be your favorite melody, and he'd find joy in creating little mischief that brings a sparkle to your eyes.

"Oh Gods...the way your eyes light up when you're truly happy."

during quiet moments, he'd express his vulnerability, allowing you to see the depths of his emotions and insecurities.

Loki's love would be a unique experience, with surprises around every corner, making each day an exploration of passion and connection.

he would use his shape-shifting abilities for making you laugh.

"Your laughter is a symphony, and I aim to be its most avid listener."

in times of sorrow, he'd wipe away your tears with a gentle touch, promising to mend the wounds with the magic of his affection.

he'd compose love letters in ancient languages, showcasing his intellectual prowess as a unique expression of his devotion.

Loki's wit would shine through in personalized riddles and puzzles, turning mundane moments into playful challenges.

as a gesture of protection, he'd subtly use his magic to shield you from the rain, ensuring that not a single drop touches your skin.

"If I could, I'd rewrite the stars to tell our love story."

in moments of self-doubt, he would be your loudest cheerleader, boosting your confidence.

he would craft enchanted jewelry imbued with his magic, symbolizing your bond and serving as a constant reminder of his unwavering affection.

Loki's mischievous grin would soften into a tender smile when he watches you achieve your goals, proud of you.

he'd weave spells of tranquility around you, creating moments of calm where the troubles of the world can't touch you.

"In a universe of infinite possibilities, I chose you, and that choice is my greatest triumph."

That's it! Hope you find the comfort you needed; and writing fluff for him is always a pleasure for me! Kisses 💋

[pascaloverx]

STARVE

Summary: You lost your husband some time ago while he served as a gladiator for Emperors Geta and Caracalla. General Acacius saved you from becoming an object of pleasure for the emperors. Since then, he has taken you as his mistress. In your free time, you became a disciple of Ravi, the healer, dedicating yourself to tending to wounded gladiators. All seemed to be in perfect harmony until Hanno, a gladiator driven by a thirst for vengeance, crossed your path.

Author's Note: And the gods said: Starve will be a multi-chapter fanfiction (I hope readers will follow it all the way through). Without further ado, the characters belong to Ridley Scott's Gladiator II universe, though there will be significant deviations from the film. Historical accuracy regarding life in the Roman Empire may not always be strictly observed, so I hope you can overlook that. Yes, this story revolves around a love triangle, but I will strive to satisfy everyone. This fanfiction will include adult content, violence, and potentially coarse language. Please interact with this chapter.

The chapter will contain inappropriate language and explicit adult content. Minors should not interact.

four

FIVE (+18)

When you return to the palace of Emperors Geta and Caracalla, riding General Acacius’ horse, you find him waiting for you—as if, by fate or intent, he had anticipated your arrival. His gaze lingers on you, heavy with expectation, as though he has spent a lifetime waiting for this moment. Dismounting, you hold his stare, sensing the hesitation in him, the unspoken questions that hang between you.

"Whom shall I speak to now—General Acacius or Marcus Acacius?" you ask, standing tall, unwilling to betray any sign of the turmoil within you.

"Is there a difference between them?" Acacius replies as he steps forward, soothing his horse with practiced ease. You do not answer—not with words. Instead, you dare to close the distance between you, reaching out to touch his face, tracing the sharp lines of his jaw with your fingertips. At your touch, he closes his eyes, as if savoring the moment, as if it has been too long since he last felt such tenderness.

"General Acacius would stand before me now to speak of his wife, her son, and the inevitable consequences of what is to come," you murmur, your voice softer now, your fingers still resting against his skin. "Marcus Acacius, however, would stand before me to ask how we might mend what has been broken." His eyes open then, piercing and searching, locking onto yours.

His lips move toward yours, slow yet deliberate—but you turn away at the last moment, evading him. "Tell me what it is you want, Acacius," you demand, stepping back, retreating from him in more ways than one.

You stride quickly toward the chamber Emperor Geta has granted you, convinced that Acacius will let you escape. But you are mistaken. He follows. Through the halls, past the watchful eyes of guards and servants, he keeps his pursuit measured, careful not to attract undue attention. Yet his presence is inescapable, his intent unmistakable.

"You ask what I want, then flee from me," General Acacius murmurs near your ear as he catches up, his grip firm around your arm. He does not harm you, yet the strength in his hold sends a shiver through you. There is something dark in his gaze, something simmering beneath the surface—perhaps, in his anger, you might awaken his passion.

"Your cowardice surprises me. I always took you for a woman of courage," he taunts, pulling you closer, forcing you to face him. Without thinking, you strike him. Your hand lands hard across his face, the force of it splitting his lower lip. Blood beads at the corner of his mouth.

"I suggest you leave, General Acacius, lest I lose all restraint," you warn, your voice cold with fury at his insult. You tear yourself free and at last reach the sanctuary of your chamber. Surely, after everything, he will let you be. But he does not. Instead, he stands before you once more, his eyes ablaze with something raw, something relentless.

"Tell me—how do I mend this?" General Acacius asks, his gaze fixed upon you. You have no answer. You cannot even name what exists between you, let alone mend it. But your body speaks in ways your mind cannot. Fingers curling into the fabric of his tunic, you pull him down to you, claiming his lips in a desperate, unrelenting kiss.

Your hands trail from his neck to his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as you pull—hard—forcing him to break the kiss with a sharp breath. A flicker of something dangerous flashes in his eyes, but before he can reclaim your lips, his hands glide down your back, rough palms pressing firmly against your skin through the fabric of your toga. Then, with a sudden, possessive grip, he squeezes your ass. A gasp escapes you at the sensation, his touch igniting something primal within you. In response, you push him back, guiding him toward the bed without breaking the kiss. When the backs of his knees meet the edge, you shove him down, watching as he falls onto the mattress, his chest rising and falling with barely restrained hunger.

Only then do you part from his lips. Slowly, deliberately, you begin to strip away your toga, the fabric slipping from your shoulders. Acacius does not simply watch—his hands follow, tracing the path of the cloth as he helps you shed it, his touch unhurried, reverent. As the last barrier between you falls away, you climb onto him, straddling his body with deliberate slowness, savoring the way his breath hitches, the way his fingers tighten against your skin. His hands hold your waist and move up, caressing your body. He feels his way down your body, passing through your belly and moving up until he touches your breasts. You let out a moan as you feel his hands gently squeezing your breasts. You slowly grind under Acacius' body, feeling his cock getting hard. He was still dressed but you could feel him getting more and more turned on by you, moaning muffledly as you grinded on top of him.

"General Acacius, your wife requests your presence at your residence," one of the guards announces near your chambers. You and Acacius exchange a glance, both waiting for something—he, perhaps, for permission to leave, and you, for a sign that he wishes to stay.

"I need to..." General Acacius begins, his voice almost drained of strength. Before he can finish, you seize him, capturing his lips in a kiss as if it were the last—a raw, bruising clash of mouths, your nails digging into his face, intent on leaving a mark. He might find it bothersome, but if he does, he does not show it. Instead, he bites your lip before pulling away, savoring the sting he leaves behind.

"If you must return to your wife, then you have no further need for a mistress," you say, shoving his face away before swiftly pulling your toga back over your body.

"Let this be the first and last time we indulge in such folly, General Acacius." There is nothing more to say to him. You turn on your heel and leave your own chambers with hurried steps, unwilling to linger in the remnants of his presence. Without thinking, you walk through the palace corridors, the weight of the night settling upon you.

❈-❈-❈-❈-❈-❈-❈-❈❈-❈-❈-❈-❈-❈-❈-❈❈-❈

"Where has my companion been all this time?" You turn at the voice, already expecting it to be Emperor Geta. What surprises you, however, is the state he is in—visibly intoxicated, unsteady on his feet, his garments stained with wine.

"I was tending to an unresolved matter," you murmur, stepping toward him. He stands just outside his chambers, swaying slightly.

"And is there a matter more pressing than the amusement of your Emperor?" he slurs, his hand brushing against your shoulder as if he might need it for balance.

You meet his gaze, embers still smoldering within you from what Acacius had awakened. "Tell me, dear Emperor Geta, how may I entertain you?"

A slow smirk plays upon his lips as he toys with the fabric at your shoulder, his fingers trailing lazily along the edge of your toga. He leans in, his breath warm against your ear. "Dance for me," he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine. He lifts his free hand—the one not clutching his wine cup—offering it to you. Without hesitation, you take it, and he leads you into his chambers.

He settles into a curule seat, watching you with lazy anticipation, waiting to be entertained. Slowly, you begin to move, each step deliberate, as though you were a serpent lulling its prey into a trance.

"Undress, healer," he commands, his voice thick with amusement as he watches you sway before him. You meet his gaze, feigning surprise at his demand, though in truth, the sooner you are bare, the sooner you might smother the fire burning within you. Holding his eyes, you begin to remove your garments, one piece at a time, casting them aside until nothing remains between you and his hungry stare.

Now fully exposed, you feel the weight of his gaze upon you—devouring, indulgent, as though he is savoring every inch of you before even laying a hand on your skin. You run your fingers over your breasts, just as gently as General Acacius did before. Still being watched by the watchful eyes of Emperor Geta, you pass one of your hands under your pussy, which by the way you touch it, is already wet.

"What would you have me do, my glorious Emperor?" you murmur, your fingers trailing over your own skin as you await his command. He gestures with his hand, beckoning you closer. "Crawl to me," he orders, his palm extended, as if expecting you to kiss it once you reach him.

With measured grace, you obey, moving toward him on hands and knees, your body ablaze with anticipation. Reaching him, you press a lingering kiss to his hand. His fingers trace your face, his thumb brushing over your lips, coaxing them to part. You look up at him, holding his gaze as you take his thumb into your mouth, sucking lightly, teasing.

Then, without breaking eye contact, you rise onto his lap, his hands cradling your face. As you settle against him, aligning your body with his, he draws you in, capturing your lips with his own. The kiss is unhurried, deliberate—his tongue first teasing your lips, offering you the taste of wine, before deepening into something more consuming. His mouth claims yours, intense and languid all at once, until he moves lower, trailing kisses down your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth. Then, suddenly, his kisses cease. A moment passes before you realize—Emperor Geta has fallen asleep.

❈-❈-❈-❈-❈-❈-❈-❈❈-❈-❈-❈-❈-❈-❈-❈❈-❈

You had to put Emperor Geta into his bed with some difficulty. Dressing yourself once more, with the fire in your body left unsatisfied, was driving you to madness. You tried to lie down in your own chamber, pleading with the gods to grant you peace, to lull you into slumber. But nothing could quiet your soul. Tormented, you realized there was only one man who could ease this torment.

With the urgency of a lion hunting its prey, you sought out Hanno—or Lucius. It hardly mattered which name he bore, so long as he could quench this unbearable thirst. When you arrived at the place you had visited only hours before, a guard informed you that he was in the secluded bathing area. You hurried toward him, barely containing the anxiety coursing through you. Would he set aside the sting of your earlier rejection? Would he forget, even for a moment, the ghost of the wife he had lost?

And then, as your gaze met his—the blue of his eyes illuminated by the reflection of the water—your heart pounded against your ribs. Your breath came uneven, lost in the anticipation of what was to come.

"Why have you returned?" Hanno asked the moment he saw you approach. He was bare, of course, and surely wondering what had brought you here to seek him out.

"I need your help," you admitted, feeling suddenly exposed despite the distance between you. You held his gaze, though he seemed to be trying to decipher your distress.

"Allow me a fleeting indulgence," you implored softly, averting your eyes in shame. "One that will mean nothing." He said nothing. His silence unsettled you further. You covered your face with your hands and raised your voice. "Forget it. I shouldn’t be here."

Then came a sound—the unmistakable shift of Hanno rising from the water. You didn’t dare look, but you felt his presence drawing nearer. "Do not say that," he murmured, his breath ghosting over your skin. His voice echoed in the quiet chamber, where only the two of you remained. His wet hands closed over yours, gently pulling them from your face, leaving you with no choice but to see him—bare before you.

His wet body was erect in front of you. Showing you that his cock was slightly hard. The marks of physical fights on his defined body, making him look tougher. "Don't you want to touch me?" Hanno asks when he notices that you were analyzing his body in such detail. You turn your head to the side, contemplating the idea of giving up, but as an instinct, your hand goes towards his chest, caressing his wounds.

"I need you to keep in mind for this moment that by agreeing to do this with me, I will be the one taking you. I don't know if I could bear the idea of you thinking about your late wife," you whisper as if you are confiding a secret but in reality you are just being vulnerable.

"Believe me, healer, I know it is your hands touching me," he murmured, grasping them gently before pressing a kiss to each one. "I know it is your eyes upon me," he continued, his lips brushing over your closed eyelids. "I know it is your lips I desire," he whispered before claiming them in a swift, urgent kiss.

Though fleeting, it was the most ravenous kiss you had received in what felt like an eternity. His hunger consumed you, possessive, unyielding—stealing not only your breath but your very ability to think. His arms coiled around you, pulling you flush against him, leaving no space between your bodies. "And I know it is your body here, so close to mine," he breathed against your lips as he broke the kiss. With deft hands, Hanno began stripping you of your garments, undressing you with an ease that left no room for hesitation. Hanno's fingers begin to trail down your belly, stopping above your pussy. He makes a circular motion under your pussy, as if he wants to tease you. A moan escapes your lips as you feel his fingers enter your pussy without delay. As his fingers moved in and out of you, sometimes using his thumb to stimulate your clitoris, you rested your head on his shoulder, holding on to his arm as he thrust his fingers in you.

In a drawn-out moan you managed to say, "Hanno, please," as if you were begging him to take you, eat you, consume you; do every possible carnal desire with you. His whimpering takes effect as Hanno carries you to where he was previously bathing. As soon as your body and his come into contact with the water, he advances on your lips. He gets closer as he kisses you, holding your thighs to make it easier for you to open your legs so he can position himself. When Hanno's cock starts to enter your pussy, you let out a loud moan. It had been so long since you felt someone so intimate that it took a moment for you to get used to it.

"If you want we can stop," he whispers against your face. You don't answer anything, you just move your hands down to his ass and start holding it there, helping with the movements,as a way of showing that you want him and you definitely need to feel him inside you. He kisses your lips as he thrusts his cock into you more quickly than before. Each thrust increased the excitement you were feeling, as if you needed much more to be able to satisfy yourself.

Hanno's lips move from sucking your lips to sucking the skin on your neck and then to sucking your breasts as if he was thirsty for them. The sensation of his lips sucking one breast at a time was provocative. His thrusts into you only intensified as the sensations he was making you feel were making you shiver with pleasure. After taking his time sucking every visible part of you, Hanno returned to take your lips with his thirsty kiss. He even pulled your head a little, but specifically your hair to intensify the kiss, leaving you almost without reaction.

You dig your nails into his neck and back, moaning with each thrust as their pace increases.You help with the movements, using your hips to force more proximity between your pussy and his cock. When you feel a strong wave of pleasure coming, you throw yourself into Hanno's arms, biting his neck and gripping his shoulders tightly. It's an aggressive, intense feeling of pleasure that makes you almost scream as you feel that Hanno is close to feeling the same.

"Being in you, it's like being at peace," Hanno murmurs as he continues to cling to you. He gives one more thrust and then throws his head back slightly with a moan. He seems for a moment lost in his own pleasure while you are recovering. You grab him, pulling him into a kiss, soft and intense. "I want more," you murmur against Hanno's lips as soon as you break the kiss.

"I will do whatever you want to satisfy you, healer," he says still inside you. However, he pulls away, taking his cock out of you, making you gasp with the sensation. But it doesn't take long for him to turn you around, grabbing you from behind, running his hand over your ass. He doesn't wait long and manages to put his cock in you, taking you hard. You get lost in the sensation of him fucking you from behind, which is surprisingly tasty but a little painful. As he thrusts, you get used to the sensation, feeling his balls slapping against your ass as he thrusts his cock inside you.

His lips kissing your neck as he holds your hair back, pulling it as he thrusts his cock into you precisely and slowly. It's as if he wants to savor every thrust he gives you while with his hands he now massages your breasts. "I like feeling you inside me, Hanno," you murmur between thrusts. He kisses your back, while his hands guide your waist, helping with the movements. It doesn't take long before you feel Hanno melt inside you, with intensity. There is a pleasant pleasure in feeling it like this, still inside you. He kisses your neck and then helps you turn to face him.

"And I feel like I could die satisfied if I were inside you, healer," he murmurs, his hands wrapping around your neck as he pulls you into another kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, lost in the sensation of his strong arms holding your bare body against his. His lips claim yours with a lingering intensity, the kiss stretching on until he finally breaks away, trailing his mouth across your cheek and down your neck. The soft, teasing caress makes you smile—something tender amidst the fervor. Then, with commanding ease, he grips your waist, his touch deliberate as his fingers glide over the curve of your backside. You are still trembling with sensitivity, yet instinct tells you this bath with Hanno is far from over.

[scart-t]

Never Be Alone

Pairings: Neuvillette x Fem!reader

a/n: i love Shawn Mendes and yes its a song inspo Hydro dragon Hyrdo dragon Dont Cry~

After they had been together for some time, Neuvillette and Y/n often found solace in each other's company, especially after long days in court. One evening, as they sat sipping their tea in comfortable silence, Y/n broke the quietude.

"You seem troubled, Neuvillette," she remarked softly, concern evident in her voice.

Neuvillette sighed, his brow furrowed with the weight of the day's burdens. "There is a case that weighs heavily on my mind. The evidence is conflicting, and the truth eludes me."

Y/n reached out, gently placing her hand over Neuvillette's. "You've always had a knack for uncovering the truth, my dear. Trust in your instincts, and the gods will guide you."

Neuvillette's gaze softened as he looked into Y/n's eyes, finding comfort in her unwavering support. "Thank you, Y/n. Your faith in me means more than you know."

Their conversation shifted to lighter topics as they continued to enjoy each other's company, the bond between them growing stronger with each passing moment.

As the moon rose high in the sky, casting a soft glow over Neuvillette's chambers, he couldn't help but feel grateful for the presence of Y/n in his life. She was his rock, his confidante, and his greatest source of strength. And as they shared a tender embrace, he knew that together, they could weather any storm that came their way.

As they sat together, basking in the warmth of their shared affection, Neuvillette recounted tales from his youth, stories of his journey to becoming the Chief Justice of Fontaine. Y/n listened intently, captivated by the trials and tribulations he had faced along the way.

"It was a long and arduous path," Neuvillette began, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "But every challenge I encountered only served to strengthen my resolve to uphold justice and honor."

Y/n's eyes sparkled with admiration as she leaned in closer, hanging onto Neuvillette's every word. "You truly are an inspiration, Neuvillette. Your dedication to justice is unmatched."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Neuvillette's lips as he reached for Y/n's hand, intertwining their fingers together. "And you, my dear Y/n, have brought light into my life in ways I never thought possible. Your kindness and unwavering support have sustained me through the darkest of times."

Their conversation continued long into the night, filled with laughter, shared dreams, and whispered promises of a future together. It was moments like these, where time seemed to stand still and the outside world faded away, that Neuvillette cherished most.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows of his chambers, Neuvillette felt a sense of peace wash over him. With Y/n by his side, he knew that he could face whatever challenges the day ahead might bring.

And as they watched the sunrise together, a sense of hope filled their hearts, for they knew that as long as they had each other, they could overcome any obstacle that stood in their way.