#*enterance of the gladiators plays*

[ienjoywritingfilth]

teach me, general

hi: i wrote this because general acacius is still making me feel hornee things®. I don't know shit about roman gladiator times, about the language, about a n y t h i n g this is just a debauched excuse to think of this man naked and fucking.

You've been promised to another man to save Rome, but you have no desire to become his wife. Marcus Acacius has been assigned to ensure you do not flee before your wedding. Things happen.

trope: enemies to lovers

pedro character: Marcus Acacius x female reader (you)

warnings: innocence kink, age gap (not specified, but he an old peepaw just how we like him) , Marcus tries to be good but we like him bad, AU as fuck because i have no idea what happens in the movie, virgin bullshit, eating out, allusions (are what whores do for money or candy) to other sex, , i think that's everything.

RATED 18+

wanna see my other stuff?

"I will not play nursemaid to a spoiled child."

Marcus sweeps the scroll from the desk angrily, standing and stalking to the window, his cape fluttering behind him. 

Commander Cassius, an older man and one of The emperor's most trusted advisors stands in the corner, his gnarled hands folded in front of him. 

"She has not been a child for quite some time, General Acacius," the commander replies, a smirk crossing his lined mouth. 

Marcus only makes a scoffing noise at that, refusing to turn around and give the older man the respect he thinks he deserves. 

"She is desperate." the commander adds, walking in Marcus direction. "She is to be wed tomorrow."

"The city talks of nothing else." 

Marcus is sick to death with talk of your marriage to a neighbouring royal family. The marriage means bountiful coin and harvest for Rome. It's a step towards unification and the future. 

But for the last several months it's all he's heard of between battles. The dress, the food, the entertainment. It's all so grating to hear about when he throws himself into daily combats. 

"She has made her feelings on the matter quite clear," the commander says with a gentle exhalation. "There is concern she will flee in the night."

"Why?"

"She has no desire to marry. No interest in continuing the bloodline."

There are rumors of course. That the Prince you've been promised to is dim, that he drinks too much, that he has an eye only for men. It's no wonder you don't look forward to such a union.

"She says she will study at the universities instead," Cassius chuckles. "A silly fantasy. She is a woman after all." 

Marcus is quiet with contemplation. He'd just returned from battle days ago. He was still weary, his patience thin. The poor reception home from his family adds to his bitter mood. 

"But she is wise beyond her years," the commander says. "She has managed escape more than once, as you well know. It was you yourself who retrieved her the night of her eighteenth birthday in the olive grove was it not?" 

Marcus rolls his eyes recalling how you screamed and punched his armour as he dragged you down from the branches, throwing you over his shoulder. You screamed until your voice was hoarse as he carried you home that evening, shouting obscenities in his ear the entire way. 

All because you'd wanted a chance to see the Gladiators. You'd begged your parents and they'd been quite clear that it was no place for you. You'd snuck out anyway, caught by Marcus before you could even get to the Coliseum. 

When he does not reply the older commander stepped forward, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder. 

"You have your orders from the Emperor."

Marcus shrugs off the older man's touch, his dark eyes sharp. 

"And why must it be me?'

'"Because, General Acacius, you are the one man that cannot be fooled by her."

The slave is at the door when Marcus knocks at your bedroom. Their face is covered; their stance cowered when they open the door widely. 

"General Acacius," the quiet voice observes eyes on the ground. Marcus is grim-faced, entering into the room.

"I have been instructed by the Emperor to keep watch tonight."

"I see," the woman nods, her face still tilted respectfully to the floor. "I was just about to fetch her dinner."

Marcus steps further into the lavish room with its bright, white walls and smooth marble floors. 

"Where is she?" 

"She is in her bed," the slave replies bowing even more lowly. 

Marcus' dark eyes move to the bed, seeing the sleeping figure's chest rise and fall through the gauzy curtains that hang on all sides. 

"The sun is not yet set."

"She is overcome. Her wishes for the marriage to be called off have been ignored."

Marcus nods, watching as the slave goes to move past him. Her feet slap the floor slowly, everything in her body suggesting an unhurried dedication to her position. 

She brushes Marcus' sleeve and he sniffs the air, a familiar scent wafting over him. Roses. 

Without warning his large hand darts out, grabbing the slave by the arm and dragging her back into the room before she can leave. The door is slammed shut, her exit blocked. 

"General-"

Marcus says nothing; he simply rips the veil from the woman's face, shaking his head in frustration as your uncovered visage stares unblinking back at him. 

He watches as you sneer, your irritation clear. 

"How did you know?" 

"Rosewater," he replies in a husky murmur. "No slave could afford to bathe in such luxury." 

You pull your elbow from his grasp, furious at being caught. You call out to the girl in your bed. 

"Amilius you are released." 

A taller woman a haggard face and wild hair rolls out of the bed. She is clearly a slave but wears an embroidered toga meant for royalty. 

"You will still be paid," you assure her as she approaches you both, her eyes on the floor. You retrieve the pouch of clattering coin from your locked cabinet, placing its heavy bundle into her shocked hands. 

"It is too much."

"Not at all," you insist. "I thank you for trying. You may keep the clothing as well." 

"You are most welcome." 

The smile the two of you exchange is sweet and Marcus is furious at the sight of it. How dare you think up this scheme and how dare this slave go along with it? 

"You are bold," he says, stepping towards her. "To defy the word of your Emperor and not expect retaliation." 

"She did it only to defend me," you break in, stepping between Marcus and the girl. "To give me a chance at escape."

"Treason," Marcus snarls, his eyes still on the girl behind you. "You will be put on trial."

Amilius shrinks back, her eyes wide. The thought of punishment like this never occurred to her. She simply follows what you tell her, as she always has. 

"I will say I drugged her," you shoot back. "I will be put on trial. I will be sentenced to death. I choose that. Anything is better than a marriage to that self important caenum!"

Your chest heaves with untapped anger. Marcus knows that this is true. You are just stubborn enough to choose death but it would mean only calamity for Rome. 

"Leave us."

Amilius nods and shuffles from the room, closing the door behind her. You watch as Marcus locks it before coming back to you. 

"So they sent the General," you say with a laugh as you remove the slave’s cloak you were wearing. You drop it into a chair before looking at him. "How fearsome a creature I must be if the strongest General in the army is sent to watch me."

"Fearsome I think not. An annoyance to be sure." 

You roll your eyes, going to the table that holds the wine and other spirits. Several chalices are there, empty and ready to be filled. 

"Some wine, General?"

Marcus shakes his head. He would never drink when on such a job. He doesn't trust you. You shrug, pouring two glasses anyway. 

Marcus is surveying your room, quietly taking in all the personal touches. He notices you position your writing desk to the east, to enjoy the midday sun. Your bed is soft and layered with furs to keep away the chill. 

You walk back over to him, holding out the larger chalice to your guest.

"Here." 

You watch as Marcus takes both chalices in hand, swapping the one you poured for him with yours. You go to deny him this but he's already taken a deep pull from his glass, smiling at you when you make no move to do the same.  

"None for you?"

You try to keep your voice even, not wishing to show your hand. 

"I find my thirst rather quenched." 

"Is that so? Or is it that I caught onto your pathetic ploy to drug my wine?" Marcus smirks, taking a deep sip.

You say nothing; you bite the inside of your cheek instead. Marcus digs the blade in a little deeper. 

 "The vial made a rather obvious noise when it hit the rim of the chalice." 

You bite so harshly you draw blood. 

Its hours later and the fire has been cracking for the better part of the evening since the sun went down. 

Marcus sits on an ornate chair before the fire, his body stoic and broad and strangely intimidating despite his continued silence. He has the chair facing you, not letting you out of his sight for even a moment. 

You sit at your writing desk, hunched over parchment as you write hurriedly. The scratch of the stylus is the only sound in the bedroom. 

Marcus exhales slowly, irritated at needing to be here at all. Knowing his luck, he'll also be forced to be at the royal wedding as well. 

You stand and take a stretch, cracking your back as you arch your spine. The flowing fabric drifts over your body pooling at your feet. Marcus takes note of your head tilted back, eyes closed. He doesn't remember your profile being this striking. He muses it is one that should be etched onto roman coins, remembered by those to come forever after. 

You walk over to him with a tired look in your eyes. 

"It is late," you tell Marcus. 

Marcus doesn't reply. He simply sits there, waiting for you to tire of whatever game you've begun. 

"I thank you for the fire, General." 

"You are most welcome."

He isn't expecting you to walk behind him pretending to stoke the fire. And he can only blame his lack of focus on his extreme lack of sleep. He'd managed none during battle and at home it seemed he was more than a little restless. 

He feels your hand slide the dagger from his hip, realizing too late. You go streaming across the room, your eyes wild when he races after you. 

"Impudice fur!"

"I have stolen nothing," you shoot back at the insult. 

The two of you circle what another in the room like your own miniaturized version of the Gladiator pit. 

"You have stolen years off my life," Marcus growls. "You have turned my hair silver."

You look at the dark hair threaded with grey in parts. 

"You have done that yourself, General, thanks to your love of bloodshed and the battlefield."

Marcus rolls his eyes. "Only a stulte would think my strategy anything other than necessary."

"If you insist," you say rolling your eyes, clearly disbelieving. 

"Return the weapon."

Marcus is strong, he is quick and you will have to submit to him. There is little else to do, aside from throwing yourself out the window behind you. The thought of that horrible childish man being your husband makes you seriously consider it.

You can't help it, thoughts of being his wife, of being tethered to such a man disgusts you. You would more readily marry Marcus Acacius if you had to. At least the man had honour and dignity.

And then all at once the answer is clear to you. You drop the knife onto the floor, hearing it clatter as you spin and throw yourself towards the large open window. 

Your feet slap against the stone floor as you fling yourself towards the open air. The realization that before you die you will know what it is to fly. 

Marcus is on you almost immediately, grabbing you around the middle before you can tumble to outside. He yanks you back, tackling your unwilling body to the ground. He pins your hands to the ground. You attempt to wrench from his grip, squirming under him. 

"Stop these foolish games."

"It is no game," you shout. "It is my life! I will choose if I live or die!" 

All at once Marcus is very aware that you are not the child he once saw in the halls or at events. The child and then teenager he found so grating with her questions that he took to ignoring her. 

"Still yourself."

You wriggle in his grip like a worm. As you do your hips graze his cock and he's shocked to find a stab of arousal hit him. 

It's as if for the first time he sees that you've become a woman. A beautiful one at that, all soft curves and kissable mouth. He stares at the damp plump of your lips and realizes that he's growing hard under his toga. 

He throws himself off of you, hunched over until he gets to the window. You're rubbing your wrists, completely unaware of what happened as you stand, glaring at him. 

"It is what is fated," Marcus barks at you. 

"How easy for you to say!" You scoff disgusted. "Tomorrow I will be the wife of a childish boor who would rather chase cock than spend a moment with me. Rome will be safe for a time, yes, but at the cost of my entire being. And you, General Acacius, will go on living your life free of restraint." 

"I come with my own shackles, believe me."

"And what is that? Too much coin for wine? Too many prostrating followers who blindly obey you?"

"A wife who married me for my title. Two stepsons with the combined intelligence of a pomegranate seed.” Marcus shakes his head. "You act as if everyone may rule their destiny but true freedom is granted to only the few." 

He can see the fight leave your body. 

But he knows you’re still upset. He moves over to your desk, needing a break from your smoldering glare. The parchment you were working on earlier sits there, writing unfinished. Marcus takes a scroll in hand, squinting down at it. 

"What are these?" 

You rush over, your face red as you rip the scroll from his hands. 

"Nothing!"

Seeing your weakness Marcus holds it up out of reach, a childish grin on his face as you leap up, trying to grasp them. But it's no use, he's taller, stronger and you fall back, defeated. 

“Tell me and I will return it to you.”

"They are poems," you mutter exasperatedly, feeling shy.

"Your own?"

"Yes."

"I wonder what about," Marcus says and he reaches into the desk to find several more scrolls. "What dress to wear to the market? How best to complain about having everything?" 

Marcus takes them in hand, a sneer evident in his face as you reach for them again.

“You promised!”

“As you promised your fidelity to the prince.”

“My father promised him. I promised him nothing.”

Marcus lets out a small huff before turning his back to you. You can see him unrolling the scroll, beginning to read.  You watch him, feeling both furious and anxious. These are some of your innermost thoughts that he’s reading.

There is a long bout of silence. You watch his broad shoulders sag, his hand flipping the page over and continuing to read. He does this through several sheets until you can't stand it anymore. 

"Give it here!"

You pause with your hand on his elbow. He's solemn, but that's not what shocks you. It's the tears that he wipes quickly away with his free hand. 

"Are you---"

"No."

You step backwards, your hands falling to your sides. You have known the general since you were a child of thirteen. Over ten years you have been in his company and only now have you seen him lose his composure. 

As a child you were convinced he didn't feel true emotions. He was always this tall, impressively stoic figure. You never spoke to him outside of your father's company. You only heard everyone talk of his skills on the battlefield, of his keen mind. The only time he truly emoted in front of you was when he ripped you from the warm embrace of the olive tree, forcing you back to your boring life. Hissing at you that you were ungrateful for all you'd been given. 

"This is very beautiful," he admits in a voice dragged over sand. "The way you describe death is very," he searches for the word. "Vivid." 

"Thank you," you reply dumbstruck. 

You've never received praise for you writing outside your friends. So to receive it in the form of your current enemy is more than a little shocking. Marcus has no allegiance to you, in fact, his response is so genuine because you know he's fighting against his inner desire to chastise or condemn. 

Seeing this hulk of a man with tears still damp along his waterline has you softening everywhere. He's looking at the pages and then back at you. 

"Have you any others?"

"Yes," you nod.

"All on the same theme?"

"A variety."

"May I see?" 

You walk to your writing table, pulling out the parchment you hide from prying eyes and pass them into his outstretched hands. You wait with your lower lip lodged under your top teeth, your fingers twisting together. You don't know why but you crave to know what he's thinking. 

You don't need to wait very long. 

"It is clear there are limitations to your skills."

He has the familiar arrogant expression on his face as he says this. You bristle sharply at his words and he notices. 

"You write of death, you write of jealousy, you write of fear,"' he says. "All of these you compose with obvious talent, with a voice I feel here." 

He taps the centre of his chest before he holds up some of the pages you laboured on. 

"But these? The poems of love, of desire? They feel false."

You take a moment to digest what he's saying. He's treating you like an equal, as if you're someone who can take the criticism. It propels you to explain instead of running away in embarrassment. 

"People want poetry to transcend them, to deliver them somewhere beautiful. How else to do that other than with poems on such topics?"

He holds up the pages. 

"It clearly does not come naturally."

"It is a challenge at times."

"You write of loss with such acuity," Marcus explains. "Why then do you describe the action between a man and woman so stiffly?"

"I have experience with loss."

Marcus stares at you, surprised.

As the daughter of the emperor he'd just assumed you'd have your fair share of romances. You're a beautiful woman and if you were anyone else but the Emperor's daughter he might have pursued you himself. 

You feel his gaze trained on you and you walk to the fire. The flames reflect in your eyes as Marcus continues to watch you. You swallow your embarrassment and look over your shoulder at him. 

"Will you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"What I am to expect on my wedding night." 

Marcus lets the scroll fall from his hand onto the stone floor. At the sound of its contact he shakes himself, retrieving them and placing them on your desk. 

"You have not known the touch of a man?"

With cheeks stained in embarrassment you shake your head. 

"I have not. The life of the privileged daughter isn't one that allows for entanglements," you sigh. "I fear for what awaits me."

Marcus thinks of your future husband, a man who doesn't want any part of you. You'll wither on the vine, ripened and juicy and waiting. 

What a waste. 

"I cannot," Marcus says. "I am simply here to ensure you do not flee."

"Perhaps I will not flee if I know what is to occur."

Marcus sighs and strides towards you. You watch as he pulls over one of the chairs you had at the window, placing it across from the chair you sit in before the fire. 

"You will be wed; there will be the wedding celebration with most of Rome at your unity. Then he will take you to his chamber." 

You lick your suddenly dry lips. 

"I am no fool. I know what the day’s events will be, General. I want to know what happens in consummation."

Marcus inhales deeply. He can feel himself growing stiff. You are a delectable thing, forbidden in so many ways. He itches to touch your skin and taste your cunt. 

"He will, he will press his mouth to yours."  

"Show me."

"No."

"Please," you beg, coming to stand closer to him. "Once I know what is to come I will feel more able to conquer this fear I feel."

Marcus debates this as he stares at you. And it's his cock that does the thinking for him when he steps closer to you. 

Marcus sighs heavily through his aquiline nose. You hold your breath as he grips the back of your neck, like you're a bothersome kitten. Holding you there he lowers his face to yours, grazing your lips with his. 

You coo gently at the sensation, your nipples hardening as he wraps his arms around you. He's so broad, so muscular, you feel so vulnerable and yet safe in his arms. 

You cling to him, body immediately wrapping around his, pressing so tightly to him that you feel everything. Your hips roll against his and you shudder pleasantly when you feel his breathing hitch. 

"More," you beg. Marcus groans, his large hands coming to cup and knead your breasts as his tongue invades your mouth. 

He's murdered men, he's plotted army overtaking, and he’s attacked the unarmed, but touching and kissing the virgin daughter of the emperor? This is the most corrupt thing he's ever done. 

And you're so desperate for him, no hesitation in any part of you. You just allow him to plunder your body, his mouth moving down your jaw to your neck and then the barely concealed valley of your breasts. 

His hands move around your body, pressing and caressing and skimming until they land at your backside. You kiss him fervently, feeling his palms tug you against his hard cock.

You whimper, eyes rolling back as the two of you grind against one another. It feels so sinfully good to do such a thing. 

"That is enough," Marcus says stiffly, pulling back from you when you make that sound. He looks at your swollen lips and dazed expression. 

"Please, show me everything," you whisper. "Teach me." 

Marcus has a fairly good idea that your wedding night is going to be brief and awful. The least he could do is give you some pleasure before you're thrust into a lifetime of timid touches and non-existent intimacy. 

Just once, a sinful voice whispers. Fuck her just once to see how it feels. 

"I cannot." 

You feel insecurity wind its way around your ribs before tugging brutally. Its clear Marcus does not find you handsome enough to tempt him or he still sees you as a child. In humiliation you turn from him and take a seat before the fire once more. Your shoulder sag as you gaze down at your clasped fingers on your lap. 

You hear Marcus sigh from the window before you sense his approach. He comes to sit in the chair opposite you, his gaze so serious. 

"It would be wrong."

"But I desire it."

"It would be dishonourable." 

"Please," you beg him again, finally raising your head. "My entire life you have been there for me, coming to my aid. And now I turn to you for the final time, General. Please help me." 

"I cannot do it."

"But why?" You demand now, knowing that your patience is wearing thin. "Give me one true reason." 

He lifts his muscular frame out of the chair, crossing until he gets to you. You gaze up the length of him, not flinching when he drops to his knees between your parted thighs. 

Marcus tilts forward until his body nears yours, his hands on either side of your chair arms. His body is so warm, so broad. You fight the urge to touch his chest as his swollen mouth brushes your ear. 

"Because if I were to start, it would take the entirety of the Emperor's army to stop." 

You blink slowly, your eyes trailing over his face and body. Your entire body is fizzy, like lightning is coursing through your veins instead of blood. 

"I would pull you apart," Marcus hums against your skin. "I would draw noises from you that you cannot begin to imagine. I would have you shaking and begging for more and I would continue."

You can't breathe. 

“I would fill you with my seed, marking your womb as mine. I would do it over and over until I was spent, only to do it all again at dawn." 

Marcus groans softly, his dark eyes scanning down your toga to the swell of your breasts. 

"And even then I would not be able to cease," Marcus says as he squeezes your breasts through your toga. "I would train your mouth, your cunt, every hole you possess in the ways of pleasure. All would be mine, nothing left for another." 

You stare at him, unblinking.

"And so you see why I must refrain," he finishes huskily. "Why I cannot give you what you believe you desire."

When did he go from the scowling general to a real man with such a filthy mouth? You’re quivering all over, desperate for him to be even closer. Your eyes drop to his full mouth, aching to feel it again.

"What if that is what I crave? What if I have no desire for you to cease?"

Your fingers go to his, pulling one hand under your toga, leading him up between your silken thighs. Marcus allows it, eyes on you but his hand inching towards your centre. 

"You do not know what you ask."

"Show me, Marcus," you whisper, your mouth nearing his. "Make me yours if only for tonight."

Your lips slot between his, kissing with uncertainty as your hands go to the buttons at his shoulder. His fingers are slowly teasing your entrance as he stares at you. 

You arch as his thumb begins to circle your clit, his long fingers starting to nudge your liquid heat. 

Marcus knows that every inch of you he touches is another year in the pit if he's discovered. You are the most forbidden fruit in Rome. Yet he continues to slide two fingers to the knuckle into your core, curling them as you cry out for him. 

At the sharp sound of your cry he withdraws his fingers, glossy with slick. He stands, needing to clear his head. He feels your confused gaze on his back. 

"I cannot defile you before your wedding," he explains. "Your chastity is of the utmost importance." 

"The slaves tell me of ways to circumvent such an issue," you tell him as the cape he wears falls to the ground. 

He watches you untie his toga, urging it from his body until he stands there in nothing but his gladiator sandals. 

He is truly a sight to behold. Golden, muscled, captivating in the same way blood along knuckles shine in sunlight. You take your time to walk around him, admiring the tight taut of his ass, the breadth of his wide shoulders littered with scars and the curls that tease the bottom of his neck. 

You save his front for last, taking your time to watch the trail of hair move from his navel downward. 

His cock is hard, thick and heavy. It weeps at the tip, already so eager. It hangs there; too large for you to imagine entering you as you reach out and touch it. He hisses at the first point of contact. 

He watches as you carefully touch him, marvelling at the iron of his cock until the silk of his skin. You trace the vein on the underside, trailing it from the base to just below the mushroom head. 

You slide down to your knees, fascinated. Amilius has spoken to you of men when you’ve asked.  She has been married and has a child. You know a bit of what men like but only in theory. You lift your eyes up to see Marcus staring down at you with a heated gaze. Your hands go to his thighs, gently resting there. 

You grin before leaning forward and placing the sweetest peck to the tip of his manhood.  

Marcus growls softly in the back of his throat. His eyes close briefly before opening, looking darker than before. You watch as he takes his cock in hand, gripping it by the base and pulling it towards you. 

You part your lips, ready to take him on your tongue and are surprised when instead he drags the tip along your bottom lip, leaving a trail off pre-cum there. You lick the remnants, curious at the salty taste. He watches you with increasing interest. 

"Irrumabo," Marcus murmurs, his cock tapping against the full of your bottom lip. "Yes?"

You nod, opening your jaw. Marcus smiles, thumb tracing the curve of your mouth. 

"Not tonight," Marcus says as he shakes his head, bringing you to a gentle stand. "Tonight is your pleasure." 

He tugs the gown from your body, letting the silk pool on the ground beside you. You shiver under his gaze, noticing his length which twitches. 

Marcus feels his breath leave him as your nude body is bared to him. You look so innocent there, waiting for him, gazing nervously at him through your lashes. 

"Goddess," Marcus hisses, his hands coming to cup your breasts. "I am a condemned man for even looking at you."

He lowers his head eagerly, nipping and licking your nipples as you cling to him, urging him to take more as you arch your spine. 

"Marcus, please more," you moan. 

Unceremoniously he pushes you back to sit in your chair, your legs splayed in surprise. He drops to his knees, moving your legs to hook over his wide shoulders. You allow this, your body limp and eager to be posed by his strong arms and hands.

He looks up to see you panting, staring down the length of your body at his face between your legs. Without breaking eye contact Marcus dips forward and licks a stripe up the centre of your sex. 

Your eyes immediately shut as pleasure ripples through you. His wide hands grip your creamy thighs, holding them in place as he continues to probe his tongue deeper into your channel. 

Your hands grope the air around you fruitlessly. You don't know what to do with them. Marcus notices and he takes your wrists between his grips, forcing them to card through his hair. 

He goes back to sucking your clit and you feel your hips buck. Your fingers dig into his skull, holding the curls and you understand why he placed them there. 

"Harder," he tells you sharply as he peppers your inner thighs with sweet kisses. You tug harder on his curls and he groans softly in approval. 

You make a shuddering noise of pleasure and it dies in your throat as he pulls back from you. His eyes are stormy as he looks up the length of you to give you a disapproving shake of his head. 

"Silence, cherub. We do not need the guards coming to investigate your shrieks." 

You nod breathlessly, clapping a hand over your mouth as he continues. The sounds are muffled against your palm as he brings his hands to slide under your ass, pulling your sex deeper into his mouth as he consumes you, groaning into your cunt when you cum. 

"Marcus!" 

"Quiet," he reminds you between licks. 

As you sit there in the chair he brings you to a second steady orgasm, revelling in the muffled yips you make when you begin to writhe against his face, coating him in your essence. When your shuddering ends Marcus slowly withdraws his tongue from your cunt, gazing up at you with a dazed look.

"My husband will do this to me?" You pant; your body shiny with perspiration. "It was so pleasant. I felt the sun within my body." 

Marcus remains on his knees, his mouth glistening with your arousal. He gives you a pitying look, knowing full well that your husband to be likely won't see you past your wedding night. 

The thought enrages him as he sits there, cheek against your thigh as you give him that hopeful expression.

"No," Marcus finally admits. "I believe his actions will be more perfunctory." 

You frown.

"How? Show me."

"You ask too much."

"Yes, I do," you admit with no hesitation or embarrassment. 

Marcus gives you a calculating look before standing. You sigh, waiting for him to leave when he crouches down beside your chair, sliding his hands behind your back and under your knees and hoists you into his arms. 

"I will give you what you desire," he tells you gently. "I can deny you nothing." 

"You have denied me much over the years," you remind him with mirth. "When I tried to see the Gladiators fight and you pulled me from that olive tree?"

"And I never heard the end of it. Imagine denying this request? You'd have me hanged."

You give a shy giggle before lacing your fingers behind his neck, your mouth finding his with ease as he carries you to the bed. 

The two of you lay in the twisted blankets of the bed, bodies gleaming with sweat. Marcus did exactly as he promised. For hours he took you apart, forcing you to come on his fingers, his mouth, his cock. You took him at every turn, eyes shut and your mouth covered by his palm or his lips. 

And now that the dreamy haze bleeds into reality you find yourself frowning. Marcus, with his arms holding your body to his notices immediately. 

"What troubles you?" 

“Tomorrow I will be another man's wife," you say with tears in your eyes. "Rome will be saved for a time but at what cost? I'll never feel pleasure like this again. I'll never have you in my bed again."

Marcus feels a pull behind his ribs, and he leans forward to kiss you gently. You respond, your tears damp on his cheeks.

"Your lessons will continue," Marcus promises, kissing behind your ear. "I will make sure of it." 

"My husband--"

"Will be thankful when you are with child," Marcus tells you in a hush, his hand curving over your stomach. "My child."

Your eyes are luminous. 

"After your wedding night he will not come to your chambers," he promises. "But I will. I will drink the nectar between your legs and I will spill myself down your throat. I will have you everywhere and when we pass in public although there are no words to be uttered you will know I think only of you. That I am yours and you are mine."

He wipes away your tears with his large thumbs before pulling your mouth to his. You fall asleep in his arms, the sensation of his body there to protect you through the night. 

Marcus stirs the next morning to the sound of birds outside the window; it's cheerful and bright as the sun that hangs high in the sky. 

It feels right that your wedding day should be beautiful when you yourself are so exquisite. 

Marcus feels his cock hardening immediately at memories of last night. Of the sounds you made and the way you felt. He looks forward to a life with you, even if it must be in secret. You are something special, something like freedom.

He cracks open his eye to take in your sleeping face, but your side of the bed is empty. A scroll is there beside him in the empty bed instead, his name written. With a panic in his heart he unrolls it, finding a lock of your hair tied with a ribbon inside. He takes it, pressing his lips against it as he reads the words from your hand. 

Carissamus General. I know that as you read this you will think me a villain, but I promise that my words were true and my body forever yours. Please understand why I could not possibly allow another to touch me. Freedom is for those who take it. I leave you a piece of me in exchange for the piece of you I will carry in my heart. I owe you everything and perhaps in the next life we will have the future you dream of. Until then I wish you the same joy and pleasure you gave me. With all my love, and all that I am. 

Marcus reads the beautiful words over and over. They spin around his skull as he dresses, pulling on his toga and cloak. But instead of anger in his expression he smiles serenely. 

He's always enjoys a good chase. 

[professionalasker121]

Soundwave is playing it because he felt Megatron would appreciate the musical accompaniment.

Imagine if The Imperial March from Star Wars played every time Megatron walked into the Decepticon base-

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Howdy! Hope you're doing well!

Could you write a piece for Emperor Caracalla, in which Reader is his wife and is nearly killed when an assassin shoots an arrow at them? Like it's angst, it's Reader being unsure if they will live or not etc but maybe end with fluff?

I was thinking reader using She / Her

Totally understand if you don't want to write this tho 🤍

The lasting scar of love

Caracalla x wife!reader

warning : hurt/comfort, emotional, blood, kissing, cuddling, drinking alcohol, mention of death and torture

Summary : The imperial family consisted of the eldest Geta, his brother Caracalla and his wife, three people who formed the head of Rome. But when an assassination is carried out during a solemn festival in the Colloseum and the blood of the Sun is spilled, Caracalla's thirst for blood and fear seems to overpower all of Rome as he cares for his beloved...but how long before her life is extinguished?

info : Ahhh I'm so happy to write something like this so good and full of angst I LOVE IT. Thank you dear anon for giving me this request, I hope you are good, now everyone have fun reading ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The leaders of an empire had to be infamous, when you heard the name of the leaders you had to get heart-racing, feel fear and already ask the gods for mercy.

The Holy Roman Empire's reputation preceded it, the world seemed to belong to them, there was no land, no area that they had not conquered and taken.

The imperial brothers were notorious for their mercilessness, the elder the self-proclaimed god who judged without even listening to others, his opinion and power counted.

The younger, even if not politically and divinely knowledgeable, was all the more ruthless, a child in the body of a man, as some said, who would climb into the Colosseum himself if it meant seeing his enemy dead and mutilated.

For years, they had been spreading gold and blood across the land, showing no mercy and causing fear...only the sun in the imperial palace of Rome was like a goddess.

The sun that when you saw it immediately gave you hope for a better world, it was the mirror of reason when it came to the atrocious decisions of her husband Caracallas and her brother-in-law Getas.

But only one reason did not seem enough for all the inhabitants and nihct all the gladiators, if they had known what was conspiring in the lower ranks the three would never have even entered the Colosseum.

The high sun fell on the palace, illuminating mosaics and paintings, and the empress looked out, a smile playing around her lips as she saw the red gem that had been set into the golden ring on her finger.

Remembering his smile when Caracalla had given her the ring as a wedding gift His favorite color a blood red she thought and shook her head with a grin, her servant pausing as her mistress rose to follow her.

They all got ready, another fight in the coliseum, a great match and a look in the mirror that told her she was dressed appropriately for what was to come.

The servant looking down at her adjusted the fabric before nodding and pulling it back so as not to disturb her any further, a golden fabric with a deep dead and dark painted eyes, the red for Caracalla and the black for Geta whose eyes also looked like this.

Even though she belonged to Caracalla, she had a deep friendship with her brother-in-law, in those moments when she despaired with her loved one, when the madness became too much, Geta was there to help her, ,,The color is beautiful!” she heard a loud voice as seconds before her door opened and saw Caracalla whose clothes were more the color of turquoise and resembled flowing water.

She couldn't help but turn and the fabric fluttered, the golden tooth flashed as his hands wandered over the fabric and his cheeks turned pinker as she gave him a kiss, ,,You look like flowing water my king,” she replied, tracing the shiny fabric, a nice job by the closer she had to give them credit once more.

The pair held each other in their arms as footsteps echoed through the corridor again and Appollo himself appeared to stand before them, ,,Brother! Majestically divine,” the younger one said, looking fascinated at all the gold attached to Geta and the fine work on the black fabric.

They were the blood in the water who took the hand of the flowing water which was overlooked with a smile of burnt wood and a god as the three made their way to the colloseum.

Caracalla held her hand, pride in his gaze and he kissed it again and again, which she returned on the tip of his nose, the two sat side by side on the throne and Geta made the announcement

,,An overwhelming fight,” she said, pointing to the sharks in the water and seeing Caracalla nod. Sharks were his idea, at first he wanted to pick up a crossbow himself but she and Geta couldn't persuade him to go for sharks, a decision that would mean fewer deaths, at least in the ranks of the audience.

The three of them sat down excitedly, wine goblets in her and Geta's hands, while Caracalla was much too jittery as the ships rowed out, she hadn't seen him this excited for a long time and Geta was eager to see who won...it was no secret that he wanted to see the "poet" dead.

She herself was almost indifferent, the Colosseum amused her husband, quenched his thirst for blood, she herself was entertained and Geta could live out his fantasies, it was helpful and as long as everyone was happy she would be too - besides, Caracalla was sweet bobbing up and down next to her when another one died.

It relieved her to see him like this, not delirious but simply happy and that was what mattered to her.

Horns blistered, wood creaked and sharks swam faster as arrows were shot at each other and after a few moments the first landed in the water and she knew that some bets were already lost or won.

It was another fight to the death, only on a different scale.

The battle was in full swing no one wanted to give in and even though the ships had reached every part of the Coloseum by now, the battle had wedged itself right in front of the stage. Directly below the imperial family who were looking down with anticipation for an end, anxious to see who would win.

,,Shoot! Kill them!” she heard Caracalla shout again and Geta had also put his goblet aside, she stifled an eye roll sometimes they both seemed to be children.

Two adults who could forget all their worries when they were here, a nice moment because they weren't bothered by the worries of the realm.

She was about to take a sip of wine, her hand went to her husband's, his blue eyes glanced at her, a happy expression met hers as the air was filled with a whirring sound and a scream could be heard.

There was a clink as the goblet slipped from her hand, the drink mingled with her blood on the floor, Caracalla's scream followed as je jumped up and stood in front of her to protect hiw wife and Geta's screaming command as he tried to pull his family away.

The arrow from the crossbow, shot with such force, had almost nailed her to the stone throne. Caracalla tore her away from it but did not pull the arrow out, too quickly would she continue to lose blood, too quickly would he fall into madness as the sanity of a frightened loving man struggled with his madness to burn Rome to the ground.

It...is...all...right she thought, wanting to say it but not making a sound as her hand went to her neck and she felt the unnatural inside. The blood stained her hand warmly as she coughed on a breath something seemed to block her air, she didn't see the blood flowing from her lips, the same color as her tunic.

As Caracalla pulled her along trying to be careful. It seemed as if the gods were beside her, as if someone was carrying her, as if she was numb, everything around her was melting and her hand felt strange as it slipped from Caracalla's grasp.

As if she had no control anymore, not seeing the blood trail that stretched from the throne into the hallway, the guards now supporting her as her body gave way, no breath reaching her as she slowly realized that something was probably stuck in her throat.

Blue crying eyes searched hers, his voice told her something and she saw Geta tear his brother away from her, but what they were arguing about she didn't know, her eyelids too heavy and the feeling of drowning even though she wasn't in the water too strong for her to move. Would she end up like this?

But who would protect Caracalla? A fear welled up inside her, arms holding her tighter, gripping her painfully, her voice like a distant echo as she spoke Caracalla's name, not knowing if he even heard it before the world around her was shrouded in darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A never-ending darkness for her, her unconscious body carried into the palace by the imperial guards, the medics attending to her as quickly as they could.

While the doors remained closed and nothing could be heard from the room for hours, it was the cries of Rome that resounded all the louder as Geta gave orders for security and arrests, while in the Senate it was Caracalla who returned to the Colosseum with sword, crossbow and torch and a group of soldiers.

For every hour that passed, the corpses of every single gladiator piled up in the arena, for every word he cut and shot more into the body, for every lie, for every false word he burned more and more.

There was no smile on his lips, no golden tooth flashing, no giggle and no desire for more, it was the sense of revenge and justice he wanted...he would kill all of Rome if it brought back his love.

Only when he had just shot the last one in the throat with the crossbow arrow late at night did the news of her awakening reach him, at least she was no longer in immediate mortal danger.

He ignored the words of his brother who told him to wait, ignored Dundus who jumped out of the way and doors were flung open as he entered her chamber.

Torches lit the room, the smell of blood hung heavy in the room and herbs only slightly masked it, ,,My heart, my sun I am here, you are awake, the gods have shown mercy” he said hastily as he sat down at her bedside, slightly bent over her as he took her hand and looked anxiously at the bandages on her neck.

It had taken hours to close the wound, using one bandage after another until she had stopped bleeding to some extent.

Her eyes still heavy, the pain burning and she slowly took heavy breaths as she slowly saw him clearly, ,,Are...you...hurt?” she asked slowly, gasping, trying to sit up, he seemed overwhelmed, afraid of hurting her even more.

Guilt and fear met her concern that was still for him, her fingers weakly stroking his cheek and leaving kisses on it as he laughed bitterly, ,,I made them all pay, sacrificed them one by one,” he assured her, seeing her touched look.

The blood that stained him, the blood of hundreds she had brought back and he would have given so much more, ,,So kind-hearted” she whispered and he laid his forehead against hers, holding her while his warm hands held her cold ones.

With every apology he tried to make, with every death he told her, she seemed to come more to her senses hours passed as he held her body, trying to give her his warmth.

Leaving gentle kisses on her battered body, ,,I will not lose you, the king and his sun belong together” he reminded her of her own words and the smile on her face matched his.

Over the next few days, the emperor stayed with his wife, only allowing his brother and the doctors to visit, who continued to care for the empress with everything they had.

Every day he continued to sacrifice gladiators, convinced that the gods had to listen to him, a concept that prevailed when the last of the gladiator's blood was drained and the sun of Rome was declared healed.

Although still weak, she managed to stand up with the help of her husband, holding on to him he instructed her to do one step after the other, ,,Wonderful! You are stronger than all the gods!” he exclaimed as she walked towards him and he took her in his arms, gently stroking the scar on her still bruised skin.

Turning her head away, not wanting to blame him, he stopped her, ,,That's over, I'm healed Caracalla,” she reminded him, seeing the piercing look in his eyes.

He held her gently, resting his forehead against hers again she heard the soft chuckle as he left a kiss on it, one on the tip of her nose, her lips before he placed a quick but loving kiss on her scar.

,,Rituals of our love...you survived, the scar shows our strength” he held against it and as much as it hurt, the fear and memory when she looked into that hopeful face.

The look in his bright eyes and the love on her body, he loved her, loved her for everyone, she couldn't help but smile and return the kiss.

No one would be able to kill the king and his sun, the leaders of Rome would continue to be three and that would not change, because even love could not be killed, it only made everything stronger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@potatoesenpaii , @cottoncandiescupcakes , @k-yurieee , @somepallings , @abundance-of-fic-reblogs

[getamuses]

Authors notes: No warnings, nothing smutty here (minors not welcome to interact with this account)

Summary: Geta’s just kind of a dick tonight & you’ve gotta snap him out of it (again)

Pairings: Geta x Future Empress

Divider by: sweetmelodygraphics

Before you entered his life, Geta always had trouble controlling his anger. He even found it difficult in times when you were not immediately in his presence. When he’d be in meetings with the senate, one off hand remark could send him into a rage. Because you were a comfort for him in these times, he was quick to order you to be in the room during his meetings with senate.

You were never in main focus, the senate didn’t even approve of you joining their meetings but wouldn’t dare argue with their emperor. Knowing you were there & all he would have to do is look over his shoulder while you sat in the background arranging floral displays, or letter writing sometimes if Caracalla joined meetings, you’d even play with Dondus, was enough to help calm him in stressful situations.

On one particular night he’s really fuming. One of his worst fits in a while. You lost track of time in the garden picking flowers for the arrangements you wanted to put together for the Cubiculum so you weren’t there during what proved to be a particularly stressful senate meeting.

Soon after the success of capturing Numidia, during the gladiator games, he & Caracalla ordered Persia to be concurred for Rome now. He sent men out to fight this battle weeks ago & it’s taking longer than he had expected. Typically it would only take a few days to conquer an area. Many Roman soldiers have perished & there is pressure to send more to fight. The senate had voiced their concerns that the people of Rome grow hungry but the emperors don’t care. They want the glory for Rome at the cost of whoever they need to have pillaged & plundered. Rather, they demand it.

You had heard the commotion from the garden. Things were being smashed, Geta was shouting. “WHAT IS THE TIME?!” you shouted to the two servants who were collecting flowers with you. You dropped your basket of flowers & quick made your way back into the palace. Knowing that something set him off, you knew this wasn’t going to be fun.

When you walk into your shared chamber, there’s wine & shards of smashed wine glasses & vases on the floor. He’s on a rampage throwing things throughout the room. He’s then screaming about the mess & why no one is attending to clean it up.

The servants can’t keep up with the growing mess, so they stand in the corners of the room waiting & hoping he’d either dismiss them or he would leave the room, once he was done or gone from the room they could remedy his mess. They’ve done it before many times in his & Caracalla’s fits of rage.

You’re a bit shocked at the mess & can’t hide the shock on your face. When he notices your presence, he stops his screaming & turns away from you. He seems a bit embarrassed. To be reacting like a child who has been denied a toy or a sweet. You’re no stranger to his anger, but you hadn’t seen him cause such a mess like this before.

“Leave us” you order the servants, who don’t hesitate to leave the second the words pass your lips. “Your anger is not becoming of you my love, look at this mess you have created” you say carefully looking down to walk through the shards of clay & glass that blocked your path to him. “They were not dismissed by me & should be here to clean up this mess! How dare they retreat at the behest of a consort & how dare you think you can order anyone in my house! You are not even my empress yet! To think you have any power now is foolish! You won’t even have any IF you do become empress” he snapped back taking a gulp of wine he hadn’t yet smashed to the floor.

“If” he said… you recount to yourself, that word hurt. Never in your year together had he ever uttered questioning in your union. He pledged only his irrevocable love for you in the last month of becoming engaged to be married. Concubines & whores were banished to even be in his eyesight from the second he asked you for your hand. He wasn’t going to fuck this up, but now in a fit of anger, he made you doubt that love.

“This room, the items within it, & I are not the cause for your anger tonight Geta. You cannot smash all of your possessions because the senate & your army have angered you”. You’re standing behind him now, his back to you facing out the balcony over looking the flower garden he had planted for you over looking the sea. You reach your hand up to touch his shoulder but he flinches away in a huff.

“Do not speak to me as if I am a child! I am the Emperor of Rome! You are here to serve & satisfy me, not to lecture me!” he quickly spins back to face you spilling his red wine on the floor. “I will no longer allow any of you to attempt to take control from me!”

He’s screaming & as he’s coming closer to you, you no longer recognize the brown orbs you’ve loved since you met. The brown in his eyes has been suddenly replaced by a deep black. You’d never seen him like this before. What did he mean that he wouldn’t allow anyone to take control from him? Who was trying to take his power from him?

“Geta, my love” you speak quietly & with a bit of a hitch in your throat. “You know I am not here to take anything from you. You are my emperor, my soon to be husband. You are scaring me now. Come back to me my love. Break this spell.” You slowly reach to take the glass of wine from his hands to replace it with your hands. You interlock your fingers with his & it seemingly starts to pull him right back to you. “Break this spell” he quietly repeats back. Words he would soon start using to calm his brother during his demented hysteria.

Your hands are now at each side of his jaw. Thumbs slowly tracing back & forth to help soothe him & bring him back to you. Looking deeply into each other’s eyes & the familiar brown orbs start to return.

“Geta what did you mean when you said you weren’t going to let anyone take control from you? Who is trying to take your control?” you questioned hoping this wouldn’t reanger him. “The senators talk of treason, treachery, they say Caracalla & I are losing the trust of the Roman people. Gracchus suggested we give up our thrones to Acasius & Lucilla. This is my birth right. I am the emperor, I have the trust of my people.”

Noticing he’s becoming a bit agitated, you shush him running your hand up & down his back & along his arm. “I wouldn’t worry about that my love, the people love you. You needn’t worry about Acasius or Lucilla. They are past their time of ruling.”

“Where were you tonight? Why were you not with me during this meeting” he’s nearly whispering at this point now. His voice hoarse from the screaming. He’s leaned in closely now he’s rested his head on your shoulder.

“My love, I am so sorry the time slipped away from me. I was in our garden picking flowers I planned to put in the Cubiculum for you to celebrate your success. I did not mean to be in garden for so long”. He lets out a small hum.

You’re running your fingers through his hair & along the back of his neck which you know he loves. He’s entranced at this point. Your touch could easily calm him in any situation, this time was no different. You bet he definitely didn’t hear a word you just said but that doesn’t matter. He’s content now.

“Did you pick any of those white ones I liked? You know the ones I want to crown you in when we are married” he quietly asked not moving from his spot on your shoulder. “They’re called lilies & yes I have plenty of them as I know they are your favorite. There is a whole row of them in the garden” you’re still stroking his hair & feeling how heavy his body is getting you know you’re starting to lull him to nearing sleep.

You slowly lift his head up & have him stand upright, he needs a second to rebalance himself & hold his own weight again. Taking his hand in yours, “Come my love, let us sleep in a different room tonight, I will have this mess cleaned up for you by morning. For now let us take rest.”

“I’m sorry for what I just said before. I did not mean what I said, you WILL be my empress. Soon. I promise.” He wasn’t the best emperor far from it, but he was yours.

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

*clears throat.* Good evening, and thank you for your time. So the idea is along the lines of this. In this world, nothing is truly what it seems. Marcus finds himself in The Library of Alexandria (My HC is Marcus also likes to read to relax.) where our reader is a scholar from Greece. The two of them start to talk philosophy (Or anything you'd like to come up with.) and whatnot. Marcus is turned on by this, he values intelligence. They have sex and well, reader isn't who we think! Reader is actually the Greek Goddess, Chaos; and basically says something along the lines of "I think I'm going to stick around for a while, so in exchange for us doing this again; and worshiping me. I will do whatever I can to allow you to win your battles, even if it seems all is lost." (My apologies if this makes no sense!)

My God

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Marcus Acacius x Greek Godess!F!reader | WC : 4.1k | Proof read : YES | Navigation | Notifications | asks : OPEN |

Summary: see ask above

Warnings: Exhibitionism , oral F, p in v, breeding kink, worshiping, marking (scratching), kinda sub Marcus

A/n: I'm very very proud of this fic i really like it

Life in Rome was never easy—a place where survival often meant aligning with power, brute force, or sheer luck. But Marcus was different. He never let the harsh realities of Roman life define him. Instead, he focused on the pursuits of the mind—education, knowledge, and the arts held a deeper allure for him than the roar of the Colosseum or the blood-soaked sands of the battlefield. It was this quality, among others, that drew you to him. You admired his intellect more than any gladiator's victory or war hero's tale.

You found yourself drawn to Marcus not just because of his intelligence, but because of the way he made you feel—respected, seen, and, dare you think it, understood. There was a quiet strength in him, a confidence that didn’t need to assert itself through violence or intimidation. He was different from the others, and you couldn’t help but feel that he saw something different in you too.

That evening in the Library of Alexandria, the air was thick with the scent of parchment and the faint aroma of the sea beyond the walls. The library was a sanctuary, a place where the chaos of the outside world faded away, leaving only the soft rustle of scrolls and the whispered voices of scholars deep in thought. You had been there for hours, lost in a text that demanded every ounce of your focus. But as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting golden light through the high windows, you noticed something peculiar.

One by one, the other patrons began to leave, their departure almost synchronized, as if they were being summoned elsewhere. A soft murmur of voices drifted away, and soon, the library was nearly empty, save for you and a few lingering souls. You couldn’t help but whisper to yourself, “Aphrodite must have sent Cupid, because this feels like a sign.” The idea that the goddess of love might have a hand in this sudden solitude made your heart flutter.

And then, as if on cue, Marcus entered the room.

He moved with the same quiet grace that you had come to associate with him, his presence immediately commanding the space without a word. His eyes scanned the room briefly before settling on you, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. You could feel your pulse quicken as he approached, his footsteps barely audible on the marble floor.

“Good evening,” he greeted you, his voice soft but warm, like a familiar melody.

“Good evening, Marcus,” you replied, a small smile playing on your lips as you tried to keep your voice steady despite the nervous excitement thrumming through you.

He settled into a seat across from you, a scroll in hand, but it was clear his attention was more on you than the text. “I’ve been thinking about our last conversation,” he began, his tone casual but thoughtful. “About how philosophy shapes our understanding of the world. It’s fascinating, don’t you think?”

You nodded, eager to engage with him on a topic that was close to both of your hearts. “It is. The way ideas can influence how we see everything around us—it’s like unlocking a new way of thinking. I’ve always loved how philosophy challenges the status quo.”

Marcus’s smile deepened a glint of admiration in his eyes. “That’s what I appreciate about you,” he said, his voice lowering slightly. “You don’t just accept things as they are. You question them, you seek to understand them. It’s refreshing, especially in a world that so often values power over thought.”

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze, the sincerity of his words making your heart skip a beat. “I’ve learned a lot from you, Marcus. You’ve opened my eyes to so many new ideas, and I’m grateful for that.”

He tilted his head, his expression softening. “And you’ve done the same for me. It’s rare to find someone who not only values knowledge but also understands its importance in shaping the world. You have a gift, and it’s something that should be nurtured.”

His words made your heart swell, a mix of pride and something deeper stirring within you. The way he spoke to you, with such respect and admiration—it was something you hadn’t experienced before. “You’ve always treated me with kindness, Marcus. More than anyone else,” you confessed, your voice soft but sincere.

“I’ve only ever treated you as you deserve,” Marcus replied, his tone firm but gentle. “You’re intelligent, capable, and deserving of every opportunity that any man would have. It’s a shame society doesn’t always see it that way, but that doesn’t mean we can’t change things, one step at a time.”

His words resonated with you, a reminder of why you had been drawn to him in the first place. He wasn’t just a man of knowledge—he was a man of principle, someone who believed in equality and justice. It was a rare quality in a world dominated by power and greed. “I wish more people thought like you,” you murmured, almost to yourself.

“Perhaps one day they will,” Marcus said, his voice filled with quiet determination. “But until then, we’ll keep learning, keep questioning, and maybe, just maybe, we can inspire others to do the same.”

You smiled, a warmth spreading through you at his words. “There’s a book I’ve been meaning to read,” you said, your voice a little lighter now, as if the conversation had shifted to something more personal. “It’s the sequel to the one I suggested to you last time we spoke. I’ve been eager to see how the ideas develop, how the story progresses.”

Marcus’s eyes lit up with interest. “Ah, yes, I remember. The way you described it made me curious. I’ve been looking forward to seeing where the author takes the arguments in the sequel.”

You nodded, excited to share this with him. “It’s on the top shelf,” you said, gesturing toward the tall bookcase that loomed over you. “I’ve been meaning to grab it, but…”

Marcus didn’t wait for you to finish. He was already moving toward the shelf, his long stride carrying him effortlessly across the room. “Allow me,” he said with a soft smile, reaching up to retrieve the book. As he stretched, his body leaned closer to yours, his presence warm and comforting.

Your breath caught as he handed the book to you, your fingers brushing his as you took it. The air between you felt charged as if something more than just a book exchange was happening. Marcus didn’t move away, didn’t break the connection. Instead, he leaned in closer, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the realization of how close you were, of how much you wanted this moment, making your thoughts spin. You had admired Marcus for so long, not just for his intelligence but for his kindness, his respect, the way he made you feel seen. There had been so many moments, so many little things that had led to this—his smile when he caught you lost in thought, the way he listened to you as if every word you said mattered, the quiet conversations you shared in the library when no one else was around.

And now, here you were, standing so close that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, his presence enveloping you like a gentle embrace. Your mind raced with memories, with all the times you had felt this pull toward him, this undeniable connection that you had tried to ignore but could no longer deny.

As Marcus leaned in, his movements slow and deliberate, you knew this was the moment you had been waiting for, the moment you had imagined so many times but had never dared to hope would actually happen. His lips hovered just a breath away from yours, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

But there was none. You wanted this, wanted him, more than you had ever wanted anything. And as his lips finally met yours in a soft, tender kiss, you felt a wave of emotion wash over you—a mix of relief, joy, and something deeper, something that made your heart feel full and complete in a way you had never known before.

I owe Aphrodite big time, you thought, a fleeting smile curving your lips against his. Little did Marcus know, the goddess of love wasn’t the only divine force at play. Chaos, the very essence of unpredictability and passion, lurked beneath your skin, a secret you hadn’t even discovered yet. But that would come later—right now, all that mattered was the way Marcus was kissing you, as if he had been waiting for this moment just as long as you had.

The kiss deepened, turning feverish as months of unspoken tension finally spilled over. You clawed at each other’s clothing with an urgency that surprised you, your fingers trembling as you fumbled with the ties of his tunic. His hands were no gentler, grasping at the fabric of your dress, tugging it down your shoulders as his mouth moved hungrily over yours. The world around you seemed to blur, the lines between thought and sensation fading until there was nothing left but the press of his body against yours, the heat of his touch.

Marcus’s hands found your waist, and with a low growl of need, he pushed you back against the nearest bookshelf. The impact sent a few books toppling to the floor, their thuds barely registering in the haze of your shared desire. Neither of you cared about the mess, too consumed by the fire that had ignited between you. His lips moved to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses that made you gasp, your back arching instinctively into him.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as he continued his assault on your senses. The scent of old parchment and sea air mingled with the heady musk of passion, creating a dizzying blend that only heightened the intensity of the moment. Your breaths came in short, ragged bursts, the sound filling the otherwise silent library.

Marcus’s hands roamed your body with a desperation that matched your own, his fingers brushing over every curve, every inch of skin he could reach. His touch sent sparks of electricity dancing along your nerves, each caress stoking the fire that burned between you. And when he finally claimed your lips again, the kiss was no longer tender but fierce, demanding, as if he needed you as much as you needed him.

You could give a fuck about who might see you, or what they might think. The world beyond these walls ceased to exist the moment you started unraveling under Marcus's touch. His tunic was already halfway off, hanging loosely around his shoulders, but you were far beyond caring. Your own dress was falling away, your breasts now on full display for him, and the hunger in his eyes made you feel like the most powerful woman alive.

Marcus’s lips traveled down your collarbone, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. He continued his descent, kissing down to your stomach, his breath warm and teasing against your skin. His hands were already at your waist, gathering the fabric of your dress into a bundle. He paused only to give you a slick grin before ducking his head beneath the fabric. The anticipation alone was enough to make your knees weak.

Then you felt it—the hot, intoxicating breath of his mouth, so close to where you needed him most. Your breath hitched as his lips found your clit with a precision that made you moan in surprise. You had to commend him for finding it so easily, his tongue darting out to taste you. His hands moved slowly, deliberately up your thighs, as if savoring every inch of you.

With a sudden motion, Marcus shifted your hips, lifting your legs to rest them over his broad, bare shoulders. The position left you completely exposed to him, vulnerable and aching for more. His mouth worked against your sensitive clit, licking and sucking with a skill that had you gripping the shelf behind you for support. The pleasure was overwhelming, making you a moaning mess as more books tumbled from the shelves, though neither of you cared.

His tongue was relentless, teasing you mercilessly. He started by focusing on your clit, making you shiver with each flick, but soon his motions became wider, exploring more of you. Before long, he was licking up and down the entirety of your pussy, his movements growing bolder, more insistent. You could feel him getting closer to where you needed him, his tongue dipping into you, desperate to go deeper.

The fever of his actions made you grind against his face, your orgasm building fast and hard. "Good gods above, Marcus," you gasped, your voice trembling with the intensity of your pleasure. He hadn't taken a breath, his mouth still worshiping your pussy as if he could die right there and be satisfied. Your legs began to shake uncontrollably, but Marcus kept his hands on your knees, holding you open as he moved faster, his tongue diving in and out of you with a frenzy that had you seeing stars.

When your orgasm hit, it was like a wave crashing over you. You could feel it building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped, sending you over the edge. You rode his face, every muscle in your body tightening as the pleasure ripped through you. Marcus didn’t let up, his mouth sloppily lapping up your juices as your body trembled, struggling to stay quiet as your arousal overwhelmed you. He knew it, and the wicked gleam in his eyes told you he wasn’t making it any easier.

Finally, he emerged from beneath the fabric of your dress, pulling it down roughly, leaving you naked before him. His breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he caught his breath, and you could see the glistening of your juices on his lips, chin, and cheeks. The sight of him, his rugged face wet with your arousal, only made you want him more. Without a word, you grabbed the fabric still hanging around his waist and yanked him in for a kiss, loving the taste of yourself on his tongue.

Your hands roamed his body, guiding him backward until you found a random chair in the room. With a firm push, you made him sit, his muscles tensing under your touch. At first, he leaned back, expecting you to straddle him, but you had other plans. Instead, you knelt before him, your hands moving to lift the fabric at his waist before pulling it down. He lifted his hips to help you, but when his hand reached for your breast, you pulled away, fixing him with a smirk.

“Let’s get this straight…” you murmured, straddling his lap but keeping your hips closer to his knees than to his cock. You began to palm him, feeling the heat and hardness of him beneath your fingers. He let out a low groan, his eyes darkening with lust. “You may be the one with the dick…” you leaned down, spitting on his cock, watching it glisten in the low light. “But I’m the one in power.”

You didn’t give him time to respond, your hand guiding his cock to the wetness between your legs. You ran the tip of his cock down your pussy lips, teasing him, teasing yourself, before slowly lowering yourself onto him. The stretch was glorious, filling you up in a way that made your breath catch. “This dick…” you moaned as you took him deeper, your body trembling with the effort to take all of him. “Is for me… only me.”

You began to grind your hips, feeling him press deeper inside you with each movement. His hands were on you again, roaming your body, before one found your breast. He brought his mouth to your nipple, sucking it softly, and you arched your back, pressing yourself against him. The pleasure was intense, his mouth hot and wet against your sensitive skin, his other hand steadying you as you rode him.

“My true god,” Marcus murmured against your skin, his voice thick with reverence. The words sent a thrill through you, knowing how true they were, even if he didn’t. You were Chaos, the embodiment of primal power, and he worshiped you without even knowing it.

You pushed his chest back, starting to build momentum, bouncing onto him with increasing speed. You could feel his eyes on you, watching your breasts, your body moving in time with his. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you, before they drifted higher, tracing the curve of your waist, the swell of your breasts. “So beautiful,” he whispered, more to himself than to you, his voice full of awe.

Your body was beginning to tire, the exertion of riding him making your muscles burn, but you didn’t care. “Marcus…” you moaned, catching his full attention. “Fuck into me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Repositioning himself, he began to thrust up into you, meeting your hips as they bounced. The movement was rough, desperate, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts. You clawed at his chest, your nails leaving red marks as you leaned over him, your eyes locked with his.

You could tell he was holding something back, the tension in his body, the way his jaw clenched. “Are you going to cum?” you asked, your voice breathy and full of need. He nodded, his breath coming in ragged pants.

“Cum…” you lifted your body slightly, before slamming down onto him again. “Cum with me, Marcus.” You bounced faster, matching his pace, feeling him hit that perfect spot deep inside you with every thrust. “Marcus, I need you to make me cum.”

His hands tightened on your hips, holding you steady as he pounded into you, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. You could feel your walls tightening around him, your orgasm building again, higher and higher. His cock was hitting all the right places, sending shocks of pleasure through you, until you were on the edge, ready to fall.

With a cry, you brought your hand to your clit, rubbing it in fast, tight circles as you rode out your orgasm. The pleasure was almost too much, your body convulsing, trembling as you came, the feeling overwhelming. You heard Marcus groan deeply, his own orgasm hitting him as your walls clenched around his cock. You felt the warmth of his cum flood into you, filling you to the brim, the sensation making you shudder with aftershocks of pleasure.

He kept thrusting, riding out his orgasm with you, until finally, he stilled, his hands loosening on your hips. You were both panting, your bodies slick with sweat and trembling from the intensity of what you had just shared. Without thinking, you leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his, breathing in his scent, grounding yourself in the warmth of his body.

Marcus’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as if afraid you might disappear. His breath was still heavy, his chest rising and falling against yours as you both came down from the intense high of your shared pleasure. For a moment, you allowed yourself to simply exist in that space, feeling his warmth, his steady heartbeat against your own. But the weight of your true identity, the secret you had been holding back, pressed at the edges of your mind, refusing to be ignored.

You shifted slightly in his embrace, tilting your head to look up at him. His eyes were half-lidded, softened by the afterglow, and when he caught your gaze, a small, contented smile curved his lips. He looked at you like a man who had found something precious, something worth holding on to. The thought made your heart ache with a strange mixture of guilt and affection.

“If you continue to worship me like this, Marcus,” you whispered, your voice still tinged with the breathlessness of your climax, “you will have many great wins in the future.”

He chuckled softly, a light laugh that vibrated through his chest. “Worship you?” he teased, his tone playful as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “I think you have that the other way around. I’m the one who’s been utterly undone by you.”

You smiled at his words, but there was something deeper in your eyes, something ancient and powerful that flickered beneath the surface. “Oh, Marcus,” you murmured, brushing a hand through his hair, “you don’t even know the half of it.”

His brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing his features. “What do you mean?” he asked, his tone turning more serious as he searched your eyes for answers.

You pulled back a little, just enough to look at him fully. The room seemed to grow still around you, the air thick with an unspoken tension. For a moment, you considered holding back, keeping your secret buried for a little longer. But then you remembered who you were, what you were, and the time for hiding was over.

“I’m not just a girl from Greece,” you began slowly, watching his expression carefully as the words left your lips. “I’m not just a student, studying philosophy and the stars.”

Marcus’s confusion deepened, his grip on you tightening slightly as if trying to anchor himself in this sudden shift in the atmosphere. “What are you saying?” he asked, his voice a whisper now, tinged with the first hints of unease.

You took a deep breath, feeling the power within you surge, the ancient energy of Chaos that had been dormant for so long. The room seemed to darken around you, shadows stretching and shifting as if responding to the force of your true nature. “I’m from Olympus, Marcus,” you said, your voice steady, resonating with a power that was impossible to ignore. “I am not just a mortal woman. I am Chaos, the primordial force that existed before all things. The void from which the universe was born.”

The color drained from Marcus’s face, his eyes widening in shock and disbelief. He pulled back, but not out of fear. His hands trembled slightly as they remained on your hips as if he couldn’t quite reconcile the woman he had just been inside with the god you claimed to be. “Chaos?” he repeated, the word almost foreign on his tongue. “You… you’re a goddess?”

You nodded slowly, the truth of your identity settling in the air between you. “I am,” you confirmed, your tone gentle, trying to ease him into this new reality. “I have walked this earth in many forms, but this—this is the form I chose to meet you, Marcus.”

He stared at you, his mind racing to catch up with the revelation. The weight of your words, of what they meant, seemed to press down on him, and for a moment, he looked lost. “But… why? Why me?” he finally managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reached out, cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Because you are more than just a man, Marcus. You have a strength in you, a light that draws even the gods. And in you, I saw something… someone worth revealing myself to.”

His breath caught, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deceit, but all he found was truth. “This is why you’re so different,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “Why I’ve been so drawn to you…”

You nodded again, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Yes. And if you continue to worship me as you have, if you continue to show me the devotion you’ve shown tonight, I will see to it that you have many victories, Marcus. In battle, in life… and in love.”

He was silent for a long moment, absorbing your words, the enormity of what you were offering. Finally, he spoke, his voice filled with a reverence that hadn’t been there before. “I don’t know what to say… What can a mortal offer a goddess like you?”

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips, tender and sweet, before pulling back to look him in the eyes. “Just be you, Marcus. Be the man I’ve come to admire. That’s all I ask.”

His arms tightened around you, pulling you close once more. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” he murmured against your hair, “but I’ll do everything I can to prove myself worthy of you.”

You smiled, the warmth of his embrace chasing away the coldness of your true nature, if only for a moment. “You already have,” you whispered, allowing yourself to sink into the comfort of his arms. For now, you were content to let him hold you, mortal and god, two beings intertwined in a world that suddenly seemed much smaller.

[in1-nutshell]

OK, we've seen how Soundwave takes care of other people's children.

But now I think it's time to see him as a parent. Could you write a story about a Soundwave x daughter with the opposite personality?

Another daughter to add to the list!

Will be adding her official canon name later on.

You can find it in the link at the bottom of the 'WELCOME' page.

Hope you enjoy!

Soundwave with a daughter with the opposite personality

SFW, Familial, Platonic, Cybertronain reader

TFP

Since the beginning Buddy had always kept Soundwave on his pedes

The first time they met cemented that fact.

Soundwave and Megatronus were walking back to their quarters when they spotted something moving in the ruble.

They didn’t think of anything at first, maybe it was a turbofox in the trash heap.

Soundwave froze in his tracks when he heard the familiar sounds of chirping coming from one of the bins.

Soundwave went closer and froze when he saw a sparkling inside the bin playing with some wires.

Before he could do anything, the trashbot had grabbed the bin with the sparkling in it.

Soundwave: “Megatronus!”

Soundwave started climbing on the large trashbot. Megatronus: “Soundwave what are you doing?!” Soundwave trying to reach the bin: “There’s a sparkling in the bin!” Little chirps get louder. Megatronus: “By the Allspark!” Later… Orion walking to the gladiator’s quarters. Megatronus: “Orion!” Orion smiles as he turns around: “Mega—By the Pious Pool! What happened to you two!?” Megatronus and Soundwave were covered in dirty and scraps. Soundwave had a little bundle in his arms. Orion: “Is that a sparkling?” Soundwave: “Yes.” Orion: “How did all of… this happen?” Megatronus and Soundwave: “Trashbot.”

Soundwave had originally planned on taking her to the nearby orphanage the next day.

He was a gladiator for Primus sake!

He wasn’t fit to be a caretaker.

But all that changed when he was outside the doors of the orphanage.

The little chirps and buzzes from the sparkling grew louder as he drew closer.

Soundwave’s servo ghosted over the handles of the doors looking down at the sparkling.

The sparkling had gently placed both their servos on his faceplate.

Megatronus in his habsuite sharpening his blades. Soundwave enters the room. Megatronus without looking up: “I see you’ve finally return—” Soundwave: “Hold please.” Megatronus looks up and is shocked to see the sparkling from the day before being thrusted into his faceplate. He quickly holds the giggling sparkling: “I thought you were going to return her?” Soundwave: “She’s mine now.” Megatronus: “What?” Soundwave: “Mine.”

It was difficult to keep the sparkling safe within the arena and quarters.

For one, Soundwave and Megatronus had made more allies within the gladiator ranks to help keep watch of the little one, especially when inspections came around.

And two, this sparkling was highly energetic, clumsy, and accidental prone.

Thankfully if Buddy liked the babysitters, all they had to worry was the sparkling getting a new dent from touching a smooth surface.

However, if she doesn’t like them, Buddy is going to hide.

No one has been successful in finding the sparkling.

It’s only when Soundwave is at the front door is when she comes out.

When Soundwave has repairs done, it’s usually Uncle Megatronus and the minicons who watch over her.

Soundwave enters the habsuite ready to pick up Buddy. He sees Megatronus lightly tossing Buddy in the air with Lazerbeak playfully hovering nearby. CLICK! Megatronus freezes hearing the click pulling the sparkling closer to his chassis. He turns to see Soundwave with a picture him and Buddy on his visor. Megatronus: “Soundwave… delete that.” Soundwave: “I’ll delete it.” Megatronus: "Good—” Soundwave: "After I send this to myself and to Pax.” Megatronus: "Soundwave! He doesn’t need—I mean—no one needs to see that!” Soundwave: “Too late.” With Orion… Orion nearly spits out his energon cube seeing the picture. Ratchet looking at him with some concern: “You all right Pax?” Orion coughs a bit before showing him the photo. Ratchet nearly glitches seeing it.

On certain inspection days, Buddy is sent to Uncle Orion and Uncle Ratchet until the inspection is over.

Soundwave is not as close to the bots as Megatronus is, but he trusts Megatronus enough to let her go.

He still has no idea what made her love the two bots so much.

Buddy loves her little family.

But things started to change when Megatronus finally got his movement going.

The movement for change.

The movement that made Soundwave take a vow of silence.

Buddy understood to a point it was to help Uncle Megatronus… but that didn’t mean the transition was smooth.

It got easier to read Soundwave’s frame movements over time, but to say it was a pain to understand at first would be an understatement.

Soundwave pointing to the top of the shelf. Buddy: “I can get it for you!” Buddy starts piling some boxes and data pads to reach the top of the shelf. Buddy holding something: “Is this it?” Soundwave shakes his helm before pointing again. Buddy throws the object over her shoulder and grabs another object: “How about this thing?” Soundwave shakes his helm before looking at the pile shake. He starts rushing to the pile as it falls. Buddy shrieks as she falls. BAM! The two end up falling in the heap. Buddy suddenly bursts out laughing. Soundwave had a box stuck on his helm.

Buddy didn’t quite understand what had happened between Uncle Megatronus, now Megatron, and Orion, now Optimus Prime.

All she was told was that Orion was a traitor and any of his follwers were now considered the enemy.

Buddy took those words to spark.

While she could not agree with everything the Decepticon’s did, she was still a Con through and through.

Buddy wanted to join the spy division just like her father, but it was immediately denied by both him and Megatron himself.

Megatron: “Buddy, this is just getting repetive at this point. Our answer is no.” Soundwave: “No.” Buddy pouting a bit: “If I can just get a chance to prove that I can be just a good spy—” Megatron: “Buddy, you do not have the necessary skill set a spy has.” Buddy waves her servos back: “What makes you say that!” Buddy’s servo bumps into a passing drone, who in return bumps into several other drones in an almost domino effect before a bucket goes flying and lands on her helm; she yelps a bit trying to get it off only to smack face first into the wall. Megatron and Soundwave wince at the display. Soundwave walks over and carefully plucks the bucket from her helm. Buddy looks at him with a sheepish expression. Soundwave: “You have… your… answer…no… spying for… you.”

Instead, Buddy gets partnered up with Breakdown in overseeing the Vechicons.

It wasn’t a bad job really.

Most of the Vechicons were nice and she rather enjoyed working alongside Breakdown.

Breakdown doesn’t mind working with the youngest Con on the Nemeisis.

In a way it was refreshing, especially after dealing with Starscream.

Since buddy worked so close to Breakdown, it was only natural that she’d get close to Knockout.

Knockout cares for the kid, he does.

But by Primus does he nearly get strokes every time she comes into the medbay with new dents or something on her frame.

Knockout finally finishing cleaning his tools. Knockout: “Finally! Its was about time I—” KNOCK! KNOCK! Breakdown enters in with Steve and a large crate wheeled behind them. Knockout: “Did we get new equipment?” Buddy from inside the crate: “Not yet.” Knockout jumps a bit before looking inside the crate. Buddy was at the bottom of the crate in a slightly cramped position. Knockout looking at Breakdown and Steve: “And pray tell how did… this happen?” Breakdown and Steve both give each other a look. Breakdown: “Its best you don’t know.” Buddy: “If its okay with you guys, I’d really like to feel my pedes on the floor and not so close to my helm.” Knockout sighs before looking for the chainsaw: “Can’t wait to hear this story.”

[multiversed-daydreamer]

Slow

Pairing: Gladiator!Acacius x Sex Worker!Reader

WC: 2801

Summary: "Simply, I spend my days surviving off of quick reflexes, by night, when my life is not in danger, I wish to take my time, and enjoy you as long as possible.”

Tags: Dom/sub, mild bondage, P in V, vaginal fingering, nipple play, orgasm control, squirting, multiple orgasms.

A/N: First take on this character. Saw all of the hype for our dear general and had to jump in on it. Some of this story is basses on this post.

~

He’s always angry, even when he wins. You can’t say you blame him, not when someone coming from a life of prestige he had, to now a slave, a spectacle for the people. Former General Acacius watches you as you enter into his chambers, well earned by the repeated victories he’s won, and close the door behind you. He stands near his bed, head tilted to the side just slightly so he can watch you. His face is bruised and there are a few cuts on his arms but he had clearly been cleaned up since his most recent fight. For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other, waiting to see who makes the first move. He does, he beckons you forward with a jerk of his head and speaks to you with a low voice. “Come.” The soft command wasn’t what you expected from a man with his reputation, but it calms your racing pulse just a little. 

As you approach, his eyes fall from your face to scan your body, though if he likes what he sees, he gives no indicator. Once you’re close enough, he reaches out to caress your face with a large, calloused hand. “Strip.” He says it in the same soft tone, a quiet confidence radiating from him as he keeps his eyes on you. His hand drops from you as you begin to undress. Your bright orange toga falls to the floor, leaving you nude for him to see. You did not wear undergarments, why would you when you knew what men bought you for? His dark eyes dance over your body, glittering with desire. His hand comes to your waist, tracing your skin reverently. “Such a beautiful girl.” He hums as his fingers reach up to toy with a nipple, pinching and pulling on it until it stands at a peak. You gasped at the feeling, a hand reaching up to grab his wrist. His dark eyes flicked back up to meet yours, pausing for just a moment before his massive hand curls around your own and he pulls it down. He gathers your other hand as well, trapping them within one of his as he reaches back up to give your other nipple the same treatment. You whimper as he toys with your chest, his voice reaching your ears in the same low, commanding voice. “You are mine tonight. I’ll touch you how I please.” You nod, whimpering when he pinches your nipple a little more harshly, but his voice remains steady and calm. “Is that understood?” 

“Yes!” You gasp out as you struggle to stay still. He smiles at you then, his hand lifting from your breast to curl under your jaw, raising your face to his. 

“Good girl.” He whispers before leaning down and capturing his mouth with yours. Acacius’ kiss was demanding, fingers digging into your jaw, his teeth scraping across your lower lip before his tongue pressed into your mouth, tasting you with a breathtaking hunger. You try to move your hands to tangle them in his curls but he holds fast, keeping you in place as he takes what he desires. He pulls away with your lip caught between his teeth, he tugs at it playfully, a low chuckle leaving him when a noise leaves your throat. He releases you and pushes you towards the bed. “I want you on your back, in the middle of the bed.” He says, watching as you obey him. He stays at the edge, completely dressed still. 

“Won't you join me?” You tease, arching and squirming sensually on the sheets. Letting him get a good view of your body. 

He nods. “I will.” He reaches for a long leather belt that cinches his tunic together. He unbuckles it and lays it on the bed. “Hands above your head.” You hesitate for a moment, eyeing the belt next to you, already guessing where this is going. Slowly, you do as you’re told, lifting your hands to press your knuckles against the iron bars of the headboard. 

He crawls above you, taking the belt and looping it around your wrists and a bar of the headboard. Once he has you secured, he backs off, watching you as he strips the rest of his clothes off and joins you on the bed, nude and … beautiful. Gods, he’s beautiful. Broad shoulders and chest, big arms and hands, strong thighs. You feel yourself responding to him, for once eager to be taken by your current buyer. His cock was nice too. Thick and longer than average but not enough to scare you off, just enough that you know you’ll enjoy it. You spread your legs for him almost without thought, watching his hands skim over your calves and up your thighs, ignoring your core for now and tracing over your stomach. You moan and arch up into him. He’s warm and his touch is firm, his fingers splay out almost possessively over your body. One hand curls around the back of your knee. Raising it to settle over his shoulder. You shiver at the feeling, whining, knowing already he’s going to take you nice and deep and it's probably going to leave you sore tomorrow.

The hand on your stomach moves down, his thumb pressing to your clit just enough to have your hips jumping up into him. He shushes you, one hand moving to pin your hips to the bed while the other presses on your clit again, slowly moving side to side just to see how you respond. You hum your encouragement, trying to coax him into speeding up his hand or pressing down a little harder on your clit, but he had you trapped and he remains at his slow, testing pace. 

“Please, more,” You beg. Some men like it when you submit and beg for it like you’re desperate for their cocks. He doesn’t seem at all affected by your pleas. 

“You’ll get more when I give it. Fret not, little one, you’ll get more than enough. We have all night together, no?” He chuckles at your impatience and you groan, liking the pleasure you get, but unaccustomed to being teased in such a way. Usually, you were the one teasing, not the other way around. You tell him so too and it pulls another chuckle from him. “Not tonight.” Though he does finally move on from your clit, sliding your hands through your slit, he groans when he feels how slick you are. “You enjoyed being teased. Are you normally this aroused by your buyers, little whore?” 

You shake your head. “Normally my buyers are focused on themselves.” You whisper out, trying to remain in control of yourself enough to keep your voice level. You are a professional after all. He smiles at your response, twisting his head until his mouth brushes up against your calf and he nips at your skin. It doesn’t hurt but you whimper at the feeling of his teeth on you. 

“Oh, this is pleasurable for me. Look at you, a little teasing and you’re so pliable for me.” His fingers tease your entrance and you immediately try to press against him. He watches you with bright eyes, his cock hard and throbbing between your legs. “Do you get aroused when you tease others?” He asks as he continues to withhold the pleasure you crave from him. 

“Not truly. It is a job, more for their benefit.” He nods and finally gives you what you want, sliding a finger inside of you. His fingers are thick and it curls up to rub against something that brings a yelp from you. He grins, victorious. 

“You’re awfully sensitive for a whore.” He comments casually, his finger taking up a slow, torturous pace.” 

“My buyers don’t usually torture me. It’s a bit startling.” You’re fighting not to lose yourself, but it's hard when he is so calm and patient, clearly enjoying drawing it out in a way that most others enjoy finding the quickest release possible. 

“Torture you?” He laughs at the words. “No, little one. Simply, I spend my days surviving off of quick reflexes, by night, when my life is not in danger, I wish to take my time, and enjoy you as long as possible.” The hand on your hip moves to your stomach, once more his fingers splay possessively over your skin. He adds a second finger inside of you and you groan at the feeling. It’s just enough to make you feel full without stretching anything. 

“Feels good.” You whisper. 

He watches you closely. “Yeah? Good enough to climax?” He asks curiously. 

You shake your head. “Too slow. If you were to speed up, yes.” He chuckles, but his fingers stay at the same pace. 

“You’ll finish.” He says it casually, like he knows it to be a fact. You whimper, the display of confidence making you clench around him. “You’re fighting me. Stop. Let me have you. What is the point of having you for the night if you don’t do what I want you to?” His hand was steady but there was more insistence behind each press inside. His fingers curl to rub against that spot deep inside of you every single time and you can feel a heat that starts in your cheeks and travels down your body until it settles in your core. Your moans go up an octave and are far less contained. You squirm against his belt but he’s relentless. “There you go.” He murmurs praise as you begin to tremble. You’re getting closer to that peak that you rarely reach with buyers. It’s strong too, built up over the course of the past hour or so of being teased into submission. You writhe and your body tenses, fighting the belt and his hands to try and push yourself harder on his fingers. “Do you need another one?” He asks softly, a queer smile playing on his lips. 

You nod. “Yes, please. Please, I need.” You gasp breathlessly. Two of his fingers already make you feel full. The addition of the third brought on a stretch that makes you whine, it burns so good. He resumes his pace, slow but hard and you crumble under him. He curls his fingers over and over again, his thumb brushing over your swollen clit with every deep, inward press. You cry out and you see colors behind your closed eyes as pleasure explodes over your entire body. Your climax leaves your legs shaking as he fucks you through it, murming soft praise into your knee. Dark eyes watch you with a growing delight as you moan and writhe under him. 

“You’re ready for my cock now, little one. Needed three fingers in you to cum.” He pulls his fingers out of you and readjusts the leg on his shoulder, the hand that’s still slick with your juices reaches toward your knee, pushing your legs further apart so he can line his thick erection up with your entrance. He uses his thumb to rub the head of his cock up and down your wet slit, causing you to whimper every time it nudges up against your clit. He watches with a barely there smirk on his face, delighting in your sensitivity. 

“Please. Want your cock.” The begging is genuine this time, fed up with the general's teasing. He laughs, notching the head at your needy hole and slowly pressing his way inside of you. You whine at the stretch, the head flares out like a mushroom and it stings as he gets the fattest part in. The rest of his shaft isn’t much of a reprieve, he’s thick and heavy and you whimper as he slowly presses himself inch by inch inside of you. 

He groans quietly, shifting his weight more over you, one hand braces by your head, and the other caresses your jaw gently. “So tight, even after I stretched you first.” By the time he finally settles all the way inside of you, you’re hardly breathing. He’s so deep inside you swear you feel him in your stomach. 

You whisper his name, pulling at the belt. “Let me touch you, Acacius. Please.” He hums, leaning down to capture your mouth with his. The kiss is just as slow and deep as the rest of his movements, and just as thorough too, tongue swiping into your mouth languidly. The hand on your jaw kept your head still as he enjoyed your mouth. When he pulls back, there's a fire in his dark eyes, and his mouth is opened, breathing heavily.

“Next time.” He promises. “I don’t want to be rushed tonight, that’s why I tied you up in the first place.” He starts moving, just as slow as he had his fingers, but when he slides back in he rolls his hips against you, grinding into your clit as the head of his cock kisses your cervix. It makes your thoughts scatter. 

“So slow.” You taunt breathlessly, hoping it’ll speed him up, but all he does is shift the hand on your jaw to shove two fingers into your mouth. You groan when you taste your arousal on him, sucking at his fingers as he fucks into you deep and slow. 

“That’s right, nice and slow, and you’re going to take it.” He whispers, groaning as you whimper under him, clenching down on his cock, aroused by his dominance. His angle shifts as he presses over you, his cock sliding against that sensitive spot. You moan around his fingers, body tensing at the sudden spike of pleasure. One side of his mouth lifts at your reaction, determination settled in his eyes as he finds that spot again and again. “Is that the right spot?” You nod, whimpering as he scores against it yet again. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and curls them back around your jaw, watching you intently as he continues to slowly drive you insane. When the tension snaps, it's like a searing fire spreads through your whole body starting from your core. 

“Ah!” You yell out as your body clinches up and trembles under him. His grip tightens around your jaw, moaning as he watches you fall apart under him. 

“Told you so.” He gasps out, his hips grinding roughly into your pelvis as he coaxes you through the orgasm. “Knew you could do it. Just had to let me get you there.” When he resumes his thrusts, just as slow as before, you jerk at the sensitivity. You rarely finish with a buyer, let alone twice, and he’s still going. 

“Are you close?” You whimper at him, his thrust back inward strikes against your g-spot. He stays quiet for a moment, simply watching your face as he fucks into you. 

“Why? Need to be elsewhere?” He asks, knowing damn well you’re his for the whole night. 

You shake your head. “It-it’s too much. Need a break.” Your body jerks as he refuses to give in. 

“You’re still coherent, can’t be that bad.” He whispers down to you, his fingers stroking your jaw gently. “One more. Then I’ll give you a break.” You whine but nod anyway. He smiles, “Good girl.” He whispers. Then, finally, he speeds up a bit, coaxing his own climax closer. His hand finally falls from your jaw to reach between you, fingers circling your clit. You writhe, shouting out as he brings you closer to your next orgasm. You’re so sensitive, it hits quickly, squelching out of you as he pounds into your hole relentlessly. You gasp and cry, trying to close your legs as you soak his cock in your release. 

Acacius grunts, the sight of you squirting on him makes his hips stutter a bit. “Oh, I didn’t know you could do that trick.” He groans as his thrusts slow again before he’s pressing as deeps as he can into your body and holding there as his cock pulses and he releases inside of you. He holds himself there for a moment, coming down to his elbows, his forehead resting on yours. He gives you another deep kiss before reaching up to untie your wrists. You make a tired note that he doesn't remove the belt from the headboard, but that’s something future you will worry about. He rolls off to the side, watching you as you rub your wrists. “Rest.” He says. 

You squirm, shifting to get to a dry area of the bed. “Do you have a spare sheet?” 

He nods. “I do, but only one, and I want to make you do that again so it’s best if we wait to change it.” You nod, eyes drifting shut. You were definitely in for a long night.

~

A/N: Thanks for reading! This is to @sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts, thanks you for all of the encouragement while writing this and for blessing me with your own Marcus Acacius fics during!

[chosoisamalewife]

Gojo and male reader smut

Top!Gojo x bottom!male!reader

A/N - bottom!Gojo gladiators if yall want me to write something different than let me know. Because this one and the bottom!gojo was similar but positions switched

A/N - I don’t see enough soft gojo and I adore this man so much so here we are

Warnings - MDNI, PWP, gojo is a soft dom,praising,overstimulation,anal,oral,rimming,cum swallowing, gojo calls reader pretty, beautiful, pretty boy /hinting at round 2 ✌️

The sound of heavy panting and sounds of screams from a horror movie filled the living room. What started as a cuddly movie night with your boyfriend has now shifted to you on his lap making out. Your hands were on the nape of his neck playing with his undercut. Satoru had his hands on you controlling the way you grinded on him. Y'all were basically panting in each other's mouths.

He moved his lips from yours letting you get proper air in your lungs. His mouth went to your throat biting and sucking on your skin. He marked every part of you that he could get his lips on.

He pulled away to get your shirt off of you. He stared at you raking his eyes from your shoulders all the way down to your v line. "Fuck" was the only word he said before he continued his actions.He licked a strip up your sternum to your mouth pressing a passionate kiss on your lips. His tongue swiftly entered your mouth beginning to dance with your tongue. He bucked his hips against yours causing you to groan against his mouth

"Off" You mumbled against his lips as you fiddle with his shirt hoping he got your intentions. Which it was obvious he did when he pulled away from you allowing you to maneuver his shirt off. Now it was your turn to attack his neck and chest with bites. Satoru let out a shaky sign as your tongue dance around his nipple for a few seconds before you continued down his torso. One thing about Satoru not only was he a pretty face but an even gorgeous body. He had that type of beauty that you would go to war for.

You sat on you knees infront of him pressing kissed right above the hem of his sweats. One of his hands went to your face softly making you look at him "Don't tease me beautiful. " He caressed you face as he spoke gently and breathlessly towards you.

"I wouldn't dare" You said smiling at him. You pulled down his sweats freeing his large cock. You kissed his thighs before taking the head in your mouth. You wrapped your lips around the head as you lick his slit, tasting his pre-cum. You stared up at him with pleading eyes.

"Fuck please don't look at me like that. I want to be gentle with you" You hummed around his cock causing him to shudder at the vibrations. Satoru could be rough at times usually when he is stressed and frustrated. Fucking your face until you are sobbing. He would hold your head down against the mattress as he ruins you from behind. Other times he is gentle with you, talking gently with you and taking you lovingly.

You took him deeper in you mouth bobbing your head. You couldn’t help but to gag each time he hit the back of your throat "Just like that baby. Fuck you're so pretty." Satoru closed his eyes leaning his head back enjoying the feeling of his cock in your mouth. "Stick your tongue out, I'm going to fuck your mouth a little bit okay. I'll be gentle." You stuck your tongue out leting his cock rest on it. A smile formed of your boy lips as he placed his hand on the back of your head. Your head was hold still as he begin to grind his hips up. His moans sounded like heaven, so breathy and pretty. Tears begin to form on your water line.

His heavy cock began to throb against your tongue as his moans began to increase. His chest arching up and his pretty blue eyes rolling to the back of his head. You wrapped your lips around his cock and he began to cum. His cum spilling all into your mouth.

You swallow his cum before standing up to remove your sweats, he watched with heavy eyes when your hard cock sprung free. He stood up in front of you cupping your face in his hands "I'm sorry if i was to rough baby. " He wiped the few tears that life your eyes away

"No you were gentle, I promise." You smiled at him before pressing your lips against his.

He softly moan into your mouth when he tasted himself on your tongue. “Ass up"” he softly ordered against your lips. He gave you quick peck on the lips as you moved onto the couch. His large hands gripped and kneaded at the flesh of your ass before spreading your cheeks apart. Your jaw went slacked at the feeling of the tip of his tongue circling your rim. He repeated the same actions of circling your rim and dipping the tip into it.

He knead your ass harder as he flatten his tongue against you giving your hole long deep licks. The wetness of his mouth start to run down onto your balls leaving a slight uncomfortable feeling due to how neglected your cock was.

He brought his index finger to your rim letting it get wet with spit. He pushed it in making you groan and hiss at the slight stretch. He pumped it gently in and out of your hole listening to your soft groans

“Please, please I need your cock inside me” Your voice shook as you begged. His index finger was pumping and curling faster now. The feeling was pleasurable but not enough.

"I know baby. I want to be inside you now but I got to stretch you out first." He pressed feather light kissed on your spine. His middle figner joined in making you gasp. The feeling of them inside of you made you just want to grind against the couch for an ounce of of pleasure. This went on for a another minute before he stopped and pulled his fingers out of you. You felt a soft smack on your ass as you felt him set on the couch.

"Ride me pretty boy. " You climbed back into the position from the beginning of the night. You spit on your hand and then took his cock in your hand lining it up with your entrance. You winced the moment the head stretched your entrance. You began to grip his shoulders and you sanked down on him slowly giving you time adjusting to his size. "There you go baby. No need to rush, we have all night."

Your breathing picked up when you felt his cock fully inside you. He sat more up so yall for pressed chest to chest. You began to move slowly lifting your hips up and down on his cock. His hands rested on your hips but not controlling your movements

Once you were used to the stretch more you began to pick up the pace earning and groan out of your and his mouth. You tumbing over rsring your face in his neck mote and more his cock hit your prostate.

"I love the way you ride me baby." He said breathlessly. "You need me to move your hips baby?" You nodded against him. His hands tightened on your hips has he began to bounce your ass up and down on his cock. Your moans picked up loudly against his shoulder due to the feeling of your rubbing against his abs. And the feeling of his cock against your prostate. You could tell he was close too by his noices. "Look at me baby." You lifed you head up to look at him. You were so beautiful to him. Your eyes glossy and your mouth adjacent. Your chest heaving up and down. "You about to cum baby? Cum with me baby. Come on I got you." You nodded your head as your body shook cum spurting out getting on both of y'al. . He came inside you as he fucked you through your orgasm. Yall set there for a bit catching y'all breaths.

"I'm glad we covered the couch with a blanket just incase." You sated at your cum on both of y'all chest.

"I know you're very messy." Satoru peck your nose

"Says the one who's cum is probably getting on the floor"

"That isn't my fault baby." He raised his hands up in defense. "Plus we have a mop. " You smacked his shoulder in response.

"Whatever we have to clean up." You tried to escape from his grasp but his hands on your hips were to strong.

"How about we do this in the bed and then clean up."

"You are a pain in my ass." You kissed his lips."But of course we can"

"Good because I rather be in your ass then a pain." He laughed as he lifted you up.

"I fucking hate you"

Sorry I thought I scheduled this to be posted but turns out i didn't 😬🧍‍♂️

[fawninthesnow]

𝐎𝐟 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐝 & 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝: PT 2, Scales & Weights

Lucius Verus x fem!

Summary: Former Gladiator, Emperor Lucius, takes his rightful property-- the wife of his conquered enemy.

Warnings/Contains: fem character, slow burn, f4m, smut, unprotected sex, spit as lube, cock warming, public hum!l!, h@nd jobs, no proofreading, etc

a/n: slowburn warning!

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“Well.”

“I hope I didn’t disturb your rest too harshly. We are only a few hours from the palace.” She hummed with acknowledgement, looking out at the fields of olive trees and barren grass. Animals crossed their path as did the occasional commoner, praising and thanking the emperor for bringing peace to the land.

“What will be my purpose?” The woman asked, a solemn expression in her eyes and a frown on her lips.

“I have yet to think it over.” She frowned and looked behind them at the tens of men on horseback. “They're happy, don't worry.”

“And how do you know that?”

“They are headed home, that is why.” There was a moment of silence between them. “You believe me to be a liar?”

“No, my Emperor. May gods rest his soul…but I was once a slave to the Emperor Geta.” He frowned, “…two years ago, I was brought to this city in chains. Nothing has changed.”

“This city is different, very different from when the twins ruled. Might I add, you are no longer in chains.”

“I don’t believe that to be true.” She said softly, watching children splash in the fountain at the city entrance. A young girl of a honey complexion splashed water towards the guards and emperor. For a short second, she paused, her fingertips dripped water onto the smooth, hot pavers. She stared curiously at the woman behind the emperor’s back.

As the campaign of men entered, crowds of hundreds and thousands surrounded the men, tossing petals, spices, dyes, food and even undergarments. The young woman concealed her face with a head wrap and bowed her head behind the emperor. Shouts and screams came from every direction. Music played loudly for all the city to hear; some people even danced about in circles. When they arrived at the city steps, the emperor stepped off his horse and helped the young woman and her child off. “Watch your step.” He said, walking ahead of her to greet the senate. He waved at the people, sending his blessing to them before marching into the palace.

Without a second passing, the man was greeted by his servants. He removed his armor and unsheathed his sword. “Take her to the bath in my quarters, then leave her there.” They took his clothes and guided him to the bath.

The young woman held onto her child as the servants guided her down a different hall. She admired the tall ceilings. The floors are adorned with intricate mosaics, depicting elaborate scenes of mythology, nature, or battles. Surrounding the atrium past the entrance, the walls are richly decorated with frescoes, showcasing vibrant colors and complex patterns. Scenes from daily life, gods and goddesses, as well as mythological tales. In every room, tall columns, made of marble stood strong, only making her feel smaller. When they entered the emperor’s quarters, she was led to an outside bath, it steamed and was full of soapy bubbles. Along the sides, bowls and bottles of soaps, oils and flower petals.

One of the servants offered their hands out to lay the child down. “No. Do you have a cradle? I want her beside me.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Although she soaked in the water, she watched her child in the large cradle, protected from bugs with netting. Time passed as she relaxed, her eyes fluttering closed.

The sun began to set over across the empire, a wine red and hazel orange. The emperor slowly walked over to the woman, stroking her fluffy hair that his fingers got tangled in. He smiled at the flowers in her curls. Each petal seemed to fall off its stem as his fingertips grazed them. She jumped awake, covering her bosom instinctively. “Calm down, calm down. You fell asleep.” He offered her a robe and turned around. She rose from the milky water and tied the robe around her. “The uhh, the palace children, they wanted to welcome you, but you were sleeping.” He gestured to the flowers in her hair.

“They are kind.” She looked around for her infant who was once in the cradle—

“She has been changed and fed…she is now asleep in your quarters. Yasmeen, she’s lovely when awake.” The panicked woman calmed her breathing, “Please get dressed.”

“Would you excuse me?”

“Of course.” Lucius left his quarters. She looked at the blue dress with gold ribbons to lap around her bosom and waist, as well as a thin, pale blue shawl for her head and shoulders. In a dish beside the clothes were gold jewels and hair accessories. She brought the shawl over to cover her eyes to conceal what bit of identity she had to hide and left the bedroom, her curly hair flowing beneath the cover. The emperor met her in the hallway, standing over her. “You look…healthy.”

The young woman dismissed his awkwardness and looked around in search for her daughter. “…Yasmeen.” She said softly as if calling her into her slim arms.

“Right, she’s right this way.”

In a room in the middle of the palace, children giggle, some sleep and other play. Women in white togas watched after the boys and girls. As the two entered, the women, as well as the olden children, bowed to the emperor. On the lap of a woman with braids down her sides, Yasmeen played with wooden beads. Upon seeing her mother, the girl reached out, nearly whining for her attention and embrace. She thanked the woman before taking the girl into her arms.

When the young woman turned around, the emperor was gone. “Emperor? My Lord?” The women in the room continued to watch after the children, speaking in their foreign tongue. Outside the door, she called out for him again. “Emperor?” After a moment of silence in the halls, she closed her lips.

Barefooted, and silent, the young woman explored the palace. Without knowing her, staff would bow, seeing her in the Emperor’s blue. She pushed open large doors that led to chambers, lounging spaces, and meeting rooms. She wondered her way downstairs and outside to a courtyard of flowers, greenery and sculptures of men and women in the nude. She would her way to the center of the south courtyard. There, a large, marble fountain cascading water from each tier pool.

“Stupid thing!” The voice of a boy spat loudly. The young woman turned, her eyebrows tilted downward her eyes. “Stop moving!” She curiously went around the maze of plants to the sound of his voice. “Oww!”

His back was to her as he crouched on the ground, his toga loose and filthy from its original warm orange and yellow. “What are you doing?” She asked.

“Ahh!” He jumped from her and hissed.

“My gods!” She stepped back from him. When he moved from the way, she noticed the two animals at his feet. A monkey and a hedgehog.

“Leave me alone!” He said without looking at her, plucking quails from his legs. She kneeled beside him and helped to take the quails out before wrapping his bleeding calve with her head scarf. “Who are you?”

“My name is [].”

“I’ve never seen you before.” The monkey jumped on his shoulder, eating nuts and seeds from his pocket.

“What are your intentions? Because it seems you are here to just hurt yourself.”

“No! I’m a scholar.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes! And I am experimenting.” She tilted her head. “A monkey-hedgehog? Tsk, isn’t it obvious? How come no one’s ever thought of that? It would be so cool! A monkey with spikes upon its back! Or even a soft hedgehog!” He looked around, “Where did the hedgehog beast go?! Small but fast! Perfect qualities!”

“Yes, you’re very smart but…I don’t think it’s even mating season.”

The boy gasped, “Youre right! Haha…when is mating season?”

The young woman shrugged, pretending not to know in order to protect the rest of the animals in the garden. “Is that your monkey?”

“Yes, yes, it is.”

“Does it have a name?”

“I call it stupid.”

She frowned, “That is not very nice. You should come up with a respectable name.”

“Nuen is his actual name.” The boy laughed at the woman. “Why are you holding a baby?”

“This is my child, Yasmeen.”

“But why are you holding her? There are people here that do that kinda stuff.” He playfully held his monkey as she did her daughter.

“Do women do not tend to their children here?”

“Huh? Tend? I dunno. I guess I have never seen a woman in Emperor’s blue carrying one of them.”

“What is emperor’s blue?”

The boy scrunched his face in confusion and disgust. “Obviously, it’s what you are wearing.”

“I know that. What does it mean?” He sighed loudly, his hand went to his hip, “You are mighty flamboyant…your attitude is one for the history books.”

“Haha! Every emperor’s color represents them. If you are given the color to wear, it means a lot! No one is allowed to make or buy it. It is given. Better?”

“Yes. What is your name?”

“Gallus! Lord Gallus!”

“Well, it was nice speaking with you, Lord Gallus…and Nuen.”

“Bye!” He waved as she made her way back inside the palace.

She lay across a loveseat, playing with Yasmeen’s hands. The girl babbled to herself, placing her hands on her mother’s face. “Are you trying to hide me? Is that right?” Yasmeen giggled and continued to play with her mother’s features. With her small fingers in her mother’s curls, the girl raised then dropped her hands.

“My Lady? The emperor requests your presence at the Pantheon.” The woman stood. “We will escort you there by lectica.”

Pt 2: End <3

More on my Master list!

follow & like pls

[wigglermansblog]

Transformers and DnD

I came across DnD (Dungeons and Dragons) animations on my YT page and I was thinking— the Autobots in LL saw you playing an interesting game with your human buddies and got curious about it. They ask what DnD is all about and you told them what it is and how to play it.

I don't know how DnD works, but I can assure that Swerve would be 100% be a BARDtender (get it?). Megatron of course is a gladiator riding a horse, Ultra Magnus would be paladin/knight, not sure about Rodimus, maybe a rogue? Y/n would be a wizard ofc, since wizards are chaotic.

-------------------

DM : So, on your first adventure you and your group come across a town in a dire need of help. Once you enter the town, the townspeople instantly crowded your group asking for money.

Though, the group itself is lacking in money and very poor after a certain someone decides to use them on a useless artifact *looks at Rodimus*

Megatron : We don't have any money in our inventory and we couldn't help them financially, what should we do?

Ultra Magnus: The best way we could help is doing quests that they have here.

(Y/n), steps up : Ahem, stand aside gentlemechs! Allow the professional do their work! There's only one way to solve this problem! and that is—

(Y/n), raises their hands up and says : I cast FIREBALL!

The others : (Y/n)! NO!

[dragonridernoobie]

Hello, hello, it's me again!

(This is a continuation to the last order)

when the Succubus Reader was on the ship, she took out everyone's nerves, interfered, did all sorts of stuff, which made them angry at her

But then the Decepticons began to notice that she often disappeared for several hours. They decided to follow her because they thought she was going to the Autobots. Before that, they had attached a bug to her to spy on her deposit, with the help of crystals they opened a portal (yes, with the help of Asmodeus crystals, you can move through portals) They went through the portal, thinking that they would end up at the Autobot base. But when they entered, they saw an orphanage. They entered it, and in one of the rooms they saw a reader who was playing with children. They were surprised, as it was the first time they saw the reader from the soft side.

When the reader noticed them, he asked, "What the hell are you doing here?!"

And when the children noticed them.... The reader grinned and said, "If you like to pry into my personal life so much, then this is your punishment)"

* When the reader said this, she moved away from them and children ran up to the Decepticons, started asking them to play with them, grab them and do what children do*

How would Megatrosha and his team handle this?

In fact, I just want to see how they will run away from the children)))

Awsome picture!!! Also, I'm so sorry if this takes so long! Also megatrosha??? XD

Decpticons X Demon Reader (Part.3)

When the decpticons released (Y/N) after they gave them what they want. They made sure to send a small spy with (Y/N). Soundwave making the spy as always.

They never saw where the autobot base was since the single and camera would cut out every time (Y/N) goes through the portal they made.

Soon, they started to notice how the single would always pop up in a random part of a city in Washington. It was at a strange building that definitely looked like it couldn't hide autobots.

So, they turned into their human forms and walked towards the building. They see the name "orphanage" and they where confused.

They walked in and saw no one at the front desk. They kept walking through the halls but they come across a huge door.

When they slightly opened it, they saw (Y/N) playing with some children. They were handing out toys they got (and totally dident steal), and the kids were excided.

The decpticons took a step in the room, confused and also interested in why (Y/N) was doing this. When they walked in, they opened the door a bit more for all of them, which caused the doors to creek.

When (Y/N) looked up, expecting to see another kid, they saw them. The quickly grew mad. "The hell are you doing here!"

The kids looked at them confused but seemed interested in these random men. They asked (Y/N) who they were, and (Y/N) got an evil look.

"They are story tellers. Go ask them."

The kids run over to all the decpticons and ask them for stories and who they are. The decpticons look surprised, scared, annoyed, and lost. Megatron gives (Y/N) an annoyed look but decided to do this since they don't want to make a scean and cause attention to make the autobot know they have human forms too. So, they decided to tell stories of cybertron.

Megatron

He told the children about the great megatronus!

He told then that he named himself after then and how he used to be the best Gladiator out there!

He would show them his human muscles.

He would tell them his story and gives them advice.

He told them that they should not let anyone control you and fight for what you want.

He made sure to lift some kids above his head and the kids are smiling.

For once, he is smiling, a real one.

Soundwave

Soundwave can't talk.

So he decided to the best next thing.

Play cartoons on his face mask.

Since the kids are all around him, he just sat there and let the kids watch.

At some point, he set some kids snuggle up close to him while watching the show.

Eventually, he took a screen from his bad he always had and set up a TV.

Making a mini theater for them to watch cartoons.

Starscream

He would hiss at the childrean.

He does not like them one bit.

When they still came close and talked about how he looks like a pilot and that he looks so cool.

He obviously wouldn't know what to do but he would smile.

He would grab about how much of a flyer he is.

Saying that he used to lead a flying force on cybertron.

He would tell them his great battles and his best flights.

Knockout/Breakdown

You know these two.

They are both couples.

They are in love with these kids.

They each teach the kids something diffrent.

Knockout will be telling the kids how to dress, clean, and how to make themselves look 💫fabulous💫~

Breakdown would show the kids how to fight and lift up heavey objects.

He would lift kids above his head and pretend to use them as weights.

Making the kids laugh.

He would also let the kids take over him, they are to strong for him!!! 😜

Shockwave

He would have no idea what to do.

He would tell the kids he has no intrest in them.

He would so co fused when the kids wouldn't leave him alone and started to ask questions.

Like how he had a robot arm. (Since you can't really be human with a cannon arm. So he has a robotic arm that can turn into a blaster)

He would say a few things about his arm, saying that it was part of his form.

He would awnser any questions the kids asked him.

Shockwave went from mad scientist to teatcher.

While the decpticons hang with the children, telling them stories and playing with them. The whole time this is happening, they dident notice (Y/N) recording them.

Later, the autobots see the recording, and they are surpised, worried, and laughing. Worried because they have human forms, surpised since they are Bing nice to the children, and laughing because they are being taken over by human sparklings(children).

Optimus though, was smiling. Not just any smile, a real one.

Since in that video he dosent just see megatron. He sees his old friend again.

There is still hope.

[charlosvibesonly]

Racing Hearts - Part 5

pairing : max x fem! driver/reader

it's the race. no mistakes this time.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

The dim light in the storage room painted shadows across Max's face as he cornered you, his presence looming. His eyes, once warm, now held a glint of intensity, and his hands, which once felt comforting, now gripped with an undeniable force. His gaze penetrated deep, and the room seemed to shrink with the weight of unspoken emotions.

"It's this headstrong nature of yours that I really like," Max uttered, his voice dropping into a low, serious tone. The compliment hung in the air, both sincere and unsettling.

"But we can't have two winners. You pull a foolish trick in the next race, and you will regret it," he whispered, the words sending a shiver down your spine. The proximity, the seriousness in his eyes, left you momentarily breathless.

Then, as abruptly as he had cornered you, Max released his grip, letting you go. The door closed behind him, leaving you alone in the room. The echoes of his words lingered, and the contrast between the current tension and the shared bond of a few weeks ago felt like an emotional whiplash, almost breaking you down.

The Mexico Grand Prix loomed ahead. This was the race. No mistakes.

As you slid into the sleek cockpit, you caught Max's piercing gaze. His eyes, once warm, were now cold, sending a shiver down your spine. You couldn't afford to let his intensity unsettle you; the race demanded your full focus.

The lights dimmed, and the engines roared to life. The race commenced, the cars hurtling down the track in a synchronized dance of power and precision. Pit stops unfolded, tires screeched on asphalt, and the fierce competition played out in each carefully calculated maneuver.

The Mexico Grand Prix, notorious for its high-altitude challenges, became a theater of strategy and skill. The commentators narrated the unfolding drama, dissecting every move with fervor.

"Here in Mexico, the stakes are high, and the racers are relentless. Verstappen and Y/N are neck and neck, trading positions like seasoned gladiators."

The race progressed, each lap intensifying the struggle for supremacy. As the final laps approached, your heart raced with the anticipation of the imminent showdown. Max, fueled by the warning he'd delivered earlier, clung to your tail, ready to exploit any vulnerability.

Approaching the last lap, the tension reached its zenith. The commentary box crackled with excitement.

"This is it, folks! The Mexico Grand Prix has delivered an edge-of-the-seat experience. Y/N and Verstappen are on a collision course, the finish line drawing near. Hopefully, this race gives us our champion."

The cars thundered down the straight, and Max, with the aid of DRS, closed in. Wheel to wheel, the race entered a heart-stopping crescendo. 

In the cockpit, you held the steering wheel tightly with determination. Beside you, Max's car loomed, threatening to tip the scales with each passing second. The finish line lay ahead, a ribbon waiting to crown the victor. The crowd was on the edge of the seat.

Who could cross it first? 

[mtvjedi]

can i complain about gladiator 2. i’m gonna!!!! here is your official spoiler warning!!!!!

i knew frankly nothing of the plot before i went to see it i ONLY saw it because of pedro pascal and paul mescal (and denzel) so in that sense it was a good movie. in all other senses it was…………. well……….. a movie. why was lucius beat for beat maximus from the original movie but written worse. birthright stolen from him, wife murdered by the roman army, forced into being a gladiator due to the whims of powerful men, eventually becomes Thee leader of the gladiators, overthrows the current emperors/government/etc. except we have the added “plot twist” of him being maximus’ son AND marcus aurelius’ grandson. double nepo baby. i say plot twist because it was obvious to probably literally everyone who knows even a tiny bit about the original movie.

it is very obvious that they cut basically everything important from the plot because nothing connects. the ONLY plot line that has any kind of follow through is denzel’s so no shock he was the best part of the movie. side note i knew once they cast him that he wasn’t going to be playing some silly goofy mentor character so him turning out to be more important wasn’t surprising but his true motivations were and, again, the only coherent plot line in the movie. he was a slave, he bought his freedom, he got rich, and he did what he had to do to get his revenge. his and paul mescal’s relationship was the most interesting one because you were a slave but now you’re buying slaves and potentially sending them to their gruesome bloody deaths in the hopes that someday one might be powerful enough to help you overthrow the emperors??? did you KNOW paul mescal was lucius when you found him or was that simply pure dumb luck???? “the dream of rome is dead” ???? great continuation of the first movie because truly like what was supposed to happen post russell crowe killing joaquin phoenix and then immediately dying. who was in charge after that. side note: why were there like. full scenes from gladiator in there as flashbacks.

pedro pascal was like. kind of exactly the character i expected him to be. but again it feels like there’s MORE that they could have done with him. i understand why he had to die and it WAS interesting to pit him against paul mescal in the arena and then have the praetorian guard actually kill him to show how the emperors were losing control of the people, enter denzel, but. idk it felt like there was something missing from his character. i was actually convinced that the guy who put young lucius on the horse and sent him away would turn around and be pedro pascal and that would’ve been like an interesting little i saved your life please show me mercy here’s how i connect to the story besides being your stepdad type thing but here we are i guess.

poor paul mescal, truly. i thought he was as good as he could be with what he was given. his whole character just felt disjointed. like, it makes sense up until he’s revealed to be lucius. captured from his home, forced to watch his wife and eventually his friend/mentor die in front of him as a direct result of the roman empire, forced into slavery, doesn’t want to kill other slaves but eventually has to because he, like denzel, has an axe to grind with rome. but then he actually gets to rome and appears to not remember anything about who he really is, his mom figures it out in 0.2 seconds, and he suddenly remembers everything? had he ever even forgotten it? if he hadn’t forgotten, what was his plan back in his city? did he really love his wife? if he had forgotten, how does he remember everything so quickly? why does he hate his mom if he was 12 when she sent him away, aka old enough to understand what was happening? like, him in the first half and him in the second half are completely different characters and there’s not much of a bridge to connect them. there’s no explanation. honestly i kinda thought the real plot twist was gonna be that he actually was just some random kid and not actually lucius. like he just Becomes this character at the end without any real growth!!! he forgets about his wife and his friend! he has the chance to kill pedro pascal but he just……… doesn’t, for whatever reason. i kinda thought he was gonna die at the end because there had been so many little flashback moments to his wife crossing into the afterlife like russell crowe walking in the field to his wife and kid but i was gonna be really pissed if he died because then it’s just like exactly the same as the first movie where like who’s gonna lead??? you’re gonna be in the exact same spot in 20 years again!!!!!

idk it was just so long but nothing like. happened. it’s like a half baked gladiator remake but there’s so much CONTENT missing. overall, cheesy, the “dream of rome is dead, but we can rebuild it for all of us” or whatever thing was a little heavy handed, 10/10 for denzel washington, fun to watch if you don’t wanna think about the plot, pedro pascal and paul mescal as beautiful as expected.

[ladyredmoon13]

DCXDP prompt

The Meta Games

What originally started as a group of local teens challenging each other to see who would pay for milkshakes. Changed and grew into one of the largest sporting events the world had ever known.

The Meta Games, in the beginning, was nothing more than a town full of bored adolescents coming up with their own source of entertainment. In a place like Amity Park could you blame them?

The teens would come up with fun challenges and even obstacle courses to prove who was the best. The Games weren't even closed off to non-metas. So if you were willing to play, you could. Just don't go complaining if you got hurt.

Hell, Danny Fenton and Valerie Grey regularly take turns in the winning spot from time to time. If they could try and succeed, why not everyone else?

As the years passed the event got bigger and bigger. Blowing up into a sensation when an out-of-towner stumbled upon the event and thought it was the coolest thing he'd ever seen.

Soon they had sponsors, funding, and celebrity guests. Of course, then they had to make an actual rule book on how to play just to make the games official/legit. But seeing how the rules were what they were in the beginning(plus some red tape) and very easy to follow. Nobody minded.

Things were fine. That is until The Meta Games caught the Justice Leagues' attention. Contestants, both Meta and non, have gone missing at the games. No one knows where they are going and as they look deeper into the events hosted city's a worrying pattern emerged.

They were always participants but never the winners. Most had extraordinary abilities but others had athletic prowess. Add in the fact that the games were hosted in the same town every year and said town was known for its 'ghost attacks'. Then it wasn’t exactly looking good.

Even so, more information was needed. Whether they liked it or not they needed to go undercover.

_____________________

Danny looked down at the flyer in his hand and scowled. The Meta Games were in a week and he couldn't even be happy about it. To focused on the fact that one of his friends was missing.

He had told Wolf a month ago about how excited he was about participating in the last MG he could before going off to college. He had been intrigued and after Danny explained that the event was open to 'anyone' and 'everyone'.

He eagerly left to go sign up himself. That was weeks ago and there was still no sign of him. He had talked to witnesses who put him at the sign-up booth and Tucker was able to pull up footage of him entering but never leaving.

Something was wrong, and it had something to do with the games themselves. Sure they might have started out innocently enough, but now he's thinking something else saw an opportunity and corrupted them, so to speak.

Either way, he was investigating this. He's just glad that not only did he already have a cover story and his friends in the stands to have his back, but that Ember was the host for this year. Win-win, really.

Not to mention this year's thyme is pretty good. The Justice League, sounds like if would be interesting.

------------------------

Roulette looked down at all the applications on her desk and smiled. Just a few more fighters and she'll be ready to open her new brawls up in the underground. This time, bigger, better, and bloodier then they ever were.

Looking at one application in particular she smiled. One of the original contestants had signed up, a veteran if you will. One that had ended up on top more then the others. Oh Mr. Fenton, what a beautiful opportunity you are.

~So basically Roulette takes over what was a legit competition for fun and prizes and uses it to supply fighters for her illegal fights in her underground gladiator fights behind the scenes.

The League who don't know what is up with this kid and wondering just what he's up to while simultaneously trying to make sure he's not the next target.(No, Batman you can not adopt him.)

Both Danny and the League know something isn't right and investigate. Danny with the help of his friends and other ghosts(who want Wolf back safe and sound. Yes, they are worried).

[batsplat]

well bat you can’t just drop that you’re a signed up expert on the 2006 250 cc szn and not share WHY (unless you already have ofc…..I’m so sorry tumblr search is so ass) please divulge!! I see bb Jorge domination from the wiki 👀 also Aleix…Dovi…and Chaz Davies entered under like 5 different teams omfg what was going on w Casey’s bestie that year

JORGE DOVI TITLE FIGHT JORGE DOVI TITLE FIGHT omg, I'm like the #1 scholar of 2006-07 250cc era (admittedly another one of those fields where I'm not exactly getting a lot of competition on this website, guys please they're so funny). my short thesis for their 250cc vibe is here, where I described it as the huis clos of teenage motorcycle racing. which!! it is

also jorge categorically did NOT dominate that season, he scored only 17 more points than dovi!! but the thing is that jorge wins WAY more races than dovi does (the races dovi win are pretty cool, mind) - it's as close as it is because jorge is a bit less consistent and also tends to stink up the place in the wet. and then 2007 is a way more dominant season... still, broadly everyone's very impressed with dovi because the consensus is that dovi's honda is way way inferior to jorge's aprilia. see from the 2008 season preview (x):

MotoGP has received a welcome injection of young blood this year, and all of the rookies have been fast. The first question we hoped to see answered is the duel between Jorge Lorenzo and Andrea Dovizioso. Last year, Dovi managed to make Lorenzo's life very difficult, despite being on vastly inferior machinery. This year, the Italian is only on slightly inferior equipment, and will be hungry for revenge. Lorenzo, for his part, will want to make his mark on the series, and get a good finish to establish his place in the hierarchy, which he feels is really at the very pinnacle.

(this is also what sets up dovi being late noughties motogp forums' darling, like I cannot emphasise enough how much they LOVED that guy in 2008. plucky underdog syndrome)

it's a big dovi story point that him sticking with honda during 250cc is like,, a real act of loyalty. and initially it gets paid off when he gets the repsol honda ride in 2009, and then it gets rather less paid off when it all becomes a bit ugly in 2010-11 (more on that here). so it's not even that dovi's defeats during 250cc reflect BADLY on him.... but. but!! the joy of it is that these two SO clearly do not fuck with each other that the vibes are just consistently DREADFUL. in really fun ways!! you've obviously always got these great podium photos where one guy aggressively does not want to be there

generational vibes mismatch

it's also just so AWKWARD because dovi just doesn't really care to engage with jorge AT ALL and jorge is playing out all these sports movie narratives in his head where dovi is like,, his great teenage rival who he learns so much from fighting before joining the big leagues. dovi is not interested in being jorge's great teenage rival. and jorge is just so dramatically undersocialised that his attempts to sidle up to dovi and engage with him are consistently very funny to watch. cf something like sepang 2006... jorge is always trying so so hard. not always clear WHAT he's trying but he sure is trying

and 2007 adds another great twist with this, where jorge shows up with increasingly zany celebrations. so dovi's not only being beaten but he's also having to watch his title rival like,, show up in full gladiator kit. which is just. not dovi's vibe. regular reminder that jorge had a dovi mask made but unfortunately never used it:

as far as WE know, he still has that thing. anyway please just take a moment to picture dovi's reaction to jorge lorenzo showing up with a mask of his face. just let that image sit there for a moment in your mind's eye. appreciate it

what dovi had going for him those years was, a) the power of his contempt and distaste for jorge, and b) the ability to remind everyone of how underpowered his bike was. and both of those things were perfect to very much GET to jorge, like it genuinely would've been easier for him if dovi could've had the decency to openly despise him. he wants some feisty rivalries!! not dovi just staring at him like he's dirt on his shoe and then turning away omg. here's jorge about dovi in 2008 (from the longer post about the jorge/dovi feud):

'play the victim' godddd you can really picture dovi doing his factual neutral little just :) telling :) it :) like :) it :) is :) lines about how shit his bike is while jorge is having so many emotions he's going to explode. you get the sense jorge felt dovi was always looking down on him, like it's SUCH an unpleasant vibe... and jorge basically confirmed that's exactly what was going on when he said the following in 2018, during their teammate stint:

DURING MY WHOLE CAREER TRIED TO UNDERMINE MY MORALE likeeee this goes SO far back... jorge seeing dovi as this kind of condescending know-it-all who has always thought he's smarter than jorge... it's such a horrid little dynamic with two fundamentally clashing characters repeatedly trapped together, all of jorge's brash earnestness constantly colliding against the wall that is dovi's cold disinterest. funny in every single iteration, I'm so so glad they got to be title rivals for two years to consolidate their life-long loathing of each other. now THERE is a reconciliation that is not happening any time soon. anyway, if literally a single person is interested in more in-depth discussion of the 2006-07 250cc seasons and the actual races therein, lmk

[kpopsexstories]

QUICK FIX #10: NCT Ten gives you a wild ride missionary style while sweating profusely

Member: NCT Ten

Content: Missionary, Rough

Type: WILD

Word Count: 1.4k

This story is part of my Quick Fix Dirty Kpop Imagines series. Check it out for more smut and other members and groups 😊

Despite a reputation of not being into girls, Ten was a bit of a womanizer. You knew this before the first time you had sex, and were totally okay with his playboy style. He was always nice to you, sweet and caring, and all you wanted was to rip his clothes of anyway. It didn't matter to you that you were far from the only person he was sleeping with.

You were, however, surprised by the way he was in bed, and it was definitely a positive surprise.

In a dimly lit hotel room, you sit by the foot of the bed when Ten leans in to kiss you. He's been romantic all evening, and the kiss is gentle and sweet. But when you kiss him back, it's like a switch flips in Ten's head, and he suddenly becomes eager and full of lust.

It's obvious to you that he's likely been hoping for this moment all night, and that sex has been his goal all along. That's okay, because so is yours.

When the lust takes over, Ten doesn't hold back. He grabs your ass and swiftly pull your legs, causing you to fall backwards onto the bed. He stands up between your knees, quickly climbs on top of you, and starts squirming excessively while he sucks your face.

With eager movements and his hands all over you, you kiss and make out as if you've wanted nothing else all night. His sudden passion turns you on, and Ten is not the only one groping and grinding his partner. He's incredibly horny, and so are you.

The clothes quickly begin to come off. One at a time and with great haste, you both remove items from each other's bodies. Soon, Ten is down to his underwear, and your bare breasts are out for him to play with.

After removing his pants, Ten comes back down on you with force. His boner under the briefs poke you between your legs, eager to slide inside you. You lift your ass to pull your panties over it, and Ten lies on his side to help you slide them all the way off your feet.

Once you're completely naked, Ten pulls down his briefs to free his cock, and slides them down his thighs. He doesn't bother to take them all the way off. When he climbs back on top of you, you quickly feel the head of his shaft penetrate you.

You let out a groan of pain, surprised by how fast and forcefully he's entered you. Once the pain has settled, however, his cock feels amazing inside you. You're so wet, it glides and rubs against your insides like a rock on an icy lake.

When he's inside you and grinding on top of you, Ten wastes no time on foreplay. He scoots up on the bed and lifts your ass again, throwing you higher up on the mattress. Without pulling out and despite his slim and skinny figure, he moves your body with the strength of a gladiator.

He places the palm of his hand firmly on the mattress next to your shoulder, stretches his arm and locks it in a straight position. His chest hovers high above you, while his ass and pelvis slam you deep into the bed sheets.

You spread your legs wide and raise your feet in the air, panting heavily. Your body shakes and the bed begins to pound against the wall. Ten doesn't moan, but let's out quick and short breaths of air with each hard thrust, as he fucks you fast and forcefully.

To your surprise, the speed and passion of Ten's movements are a turn-on for you. The unexpected change in him is thrilling, and despite the lack of care for your pleasure and preferences you're thoroughly enjoying the ride he's putting you through.

And despite the high speed, Ten proves to be durable. He's definitely fit and used to physical activity. Perhaps he's thinking of your pleasure after all, as he manages to keep going at this pace for a good ten minutes, without even breaking a sweat. He only slows down briefly to catch his breath and kiss you, but that's it.

Your pelvis becomes sore, as you spread your thighs wide for this long. His endurance is insane, you think to yourself while your hips are getting weaker from the repeated pounding.

Around the ten minute mark, however, there's another change in Ten. It's subtle this time. He suddenly lowers himself onto an elbow, grabs your hair and pulls it, and puts his other hand on your boob. He squeezes like a toy.

"Ouch," you say when he handles you a little too hard.

"Sorry," he says and eases his grip. "It's just that you're so fucking sexy."

His ass never stops moving. It goes fast up and down. But he suddenly feels more aware of you, more into you somehow, as he's finally enjoying more of your body than just your pussy.

You like the change. You wrap your arms around his back, and legs around his strong thighs, and squeeze and release alternately to aid his cock and help him penetrate you deeper.

You begin to whimper under his weight. “Ah, ah, ah, ah,” you repeat with each passionate push inside you. The bed is still shaking violently. “Ah, ah, ah, ah!”

Now, Ten is beginning to sweat after all, another change that indicates that his orgasm is getting closer. His body feels hot, and his forehead becomes shiny in the low light. His face looks relaxed, but his eyes are closed and his mouth is wide open.

He eventually opens his eyes and stares into yours. You see the passion in them. Without changing his relaxed expression, he looks at you as if he wants to eat you up.

When the sweat builds up, a clasping sound begins as your stomachs slam against each other. A drop rolls down Ten's forehead and falls onto your neck, and sweat has accumulated near his ass crack. You feel it with your hand, and you're no longer sure if you're sweating yourself or if it's all Ten's moisture that covers your body.

That's when Ten finally comes, and one last change happens in him. When he orgasms, he pulls your hair even harder, causing your head to tilt back. His thrusts instantly slow down, and become more abrupt and wild.

His face twists. "Uurgh, uuurgh!" he groans as he shoots his loads into you.

He pulls your hair harder still, and forces his dick deeper inside you with each excessive thrust. He stays inside you until he's completely empty, then pulls all the way out only to thrust hard back in.

When it's all over, he's sweating profusely but shows no other signs of exhaustion. He doesn't collapse in your arms, nor pull out to relax. He stays inside you, thrusting occasionally, while groaning and breathing heavily above your face. He doesn't let go of your hair, nor reduce the tension in his muscles, though the time between each push gradually becomes longer.

For a moment, you aren't sure if he's actually finished at all, or if he's still coming inside you. Surely he must be empty by now, you think when he's thrusting into you for the twentieth time. It feels great to have him on top of and inside you, but you can't help but think that you're done.

Eventually, you're the one to lower your legs and relax, showing Ten that the wild ride has come to an end. Ten finally releases the grip of your hair, and stops squeezing your boob so hard.

He looks at you and smiles. You lift your head to kiss him, and you make out for a few minutes. Finally, Ten becomes relaxed too, and stops thrusting altogether.

After several minutes of breathing deep but slow into your neck, you begin to wonder if he's ever going to pull out. The sweat on his back has dried up, and the feeling inside you has changed as his cock has grown slack. You turn your head to face him, and he smiles back at you.

For a few seconds, neither of you say a word. Then you feel another change between your legs, as your lips tighten around Ten's shaft. He's getting hard again, and he grins and lifts his head above yours.

“Ready for another round?” he asks.