#New Sandals For Men

[birkenstockindia]

Discover the newest additions to Birkenstock's new sandals for men, offering the perfect blend of comfort and style. Step into the latest trends and enjoy the renowned quality craftsmanship of Birkenstock sandals for men.

[galleryofart]

Great Britain in Egypt, 1886

Artist: Walter Charles Horsley (England, 1855-1934)

Date: 1887

Medium: Oil on canvas

Collection: Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney, Australia

[kpop-bbg]

[beastsovrevelation]

The best, and most underappreciated characters in Good Omens

Ladies, the Universe is worthless without you ❤

[depoteka]

what if i will just never romantically vibe with any man i meet in my entire life. what then

[hauntingblue]

Oden is winning the bad bitch competition jesus

[waugh-bao]

The Rolling Stones at No. 9 Carnaby Street (2023)

[shoesparadise]

[punkshort]

The Farmer's Daughter

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader one-shot

Summary: Forced to sell your body after your father's farm went under, you find yourself hand picked to service the Roman army on their latest battle away from Rome. What you didn't expect was to be selected to share General Acacius's room for the duration of the journey.

Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), heavy talks of prostitution, mentions of SA but none occur, reader is a (new) prostitute, virginity loss (no blood mentioned just some discomfort), descriptions of battle wounds/blood, food and alcohol consumption, one bed trope, enemies to lovers-ish, unprotected piv sex, thigh riding, angst, possessiveness

WC: 10.2K

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

A/N: I know by this point his character is mostly referred to as Acacius in the film but I'm sorry, I can't wrap my head around someone moaning that name in bed. So let's just ignore that, okay?

How did this happen? Why did fate play you such a cruel and twisted hand?

When you were younger, you expected to be married off to be a housewife to a solider. From what you heard growing up, it wasn't a terrible life. The men were gone most of the time which allowed the women to run the household and raise children in peace. Unfortunately, your mother died during childbirth and your father, a humble farmer, passed away too early in life, leaving you and his few workers to keep the farm operating for as long as possible. To make money, you spent much of your time at the market, selling the food you made on the farm and the goods you weaved and molded from the scraps.

It wasn't enough. You lost the farm after a handful of years and you were on the brink of becoming destitute. Already you were malnourished and dehydrated, but as hard as you tried, you couldn't find work.

That was how you found yourself in a long line of women, standing silently with your heads bowed and your hands clasped as you were all throughly inspected by a senior officer of the Roman army. They were choosing their group of whores to hire to accompany the men on their next battle across the sea. You were left with no other option but to sell your only remaining asset. The thought turned your stomach, but the idea of starving to death was worse.

One by one, women were hand picked to step forward and exit the room. All in all it had to have been close to forty whores hired to service an entire army.

The odds were not in your favor if you were picked.

It came as a relief when you ended up not getting chosen. You breathed a deep sigh and lifted your chin, scanning the room of remaining women and senior ranking soldiers. You would make do somehow. At least you wouldn't be spreading your legs multiple times a night for different men after they've spent the day fighting and working up their appetite.

You turned to follow the women back out onto the streets of Rome, no doubt searching for another way to sell their bodies, when you heard a deep, familiar voice call your name. You froze in disbelief, wondering who could possibly know you, and then you slowly turned.

It was General Acacius. The fearless leader of the Roman army, but you knew him from your stand in the market. Whenever he was home from battle, he always found you and purchased more than he could possibly need, feeding you and your farmhands for weeks. He never said much and neither did you, but you had grown fond of seeing his greying curls and dark, smoldering eyes approach your stall, albeit with a new wound or scar to show for his travels.

You did not even realize he knew your name.

His eyes drifted up and down your worn tunic, noticing the stains and rips and your poor fitting sandals. Your gaze flickered nervously around the room at the other men impatiently looking to wrap up their work and begin their long journey, but remained silent, deferring to the general.

"You will come with us," was all he said, his voice booming in the small room. Your blood ran cold and panic seized your throat.

"But the choices have already been made-"

"I am paying. I believe I am allowed to decide how many whores we bring along."

You clamped your mouth shut, brows furrowing in anger. How foolish you were to assume he was a man of honor, a man who wanted to help you when he bought your meager wares in the market. As it turned out, he was no better than any other, only out to seek pleasure between your legs.

At that point, you knew better than to argue. Your fate was sealed. Begrudgingly, you forced yourself to follow after the other chosen women, walking past the high ranking officials who sized you up as you went.

The army was to travel by ship. Or multiple ships, to be exact. The women were counted off and told to stand in smaller groups, one handful of whores for each ship of hungry soldiers. When your group was assigned, you heard that familiar powerful voice come out of nowhere once again, stopping everybody in their paths.

"She is to travel on mine," General Acacius announced. A few men exchanged confused glances and Acacius grew irritated. "That one," he clarified, pointing directly at you. The other men quickly nodded and shuffled you into another group, and you thought that would be the end of it, but then he spoke again as the others began to board.

"She will stay in my chambers."

If the soldiers were surprised, they hid it well, but you didn't. You whipped around and glared at him defiantly, a litany of disrespectful curses on the tip of your tongue. Thankfully, you remembered your place and who you were speaking to and caught yourself before you got killed, but as you turned to board the ship, you noticed an amused smirk play across the general's lips.

A young solider shoved you into the general's quarters, ordering you to not go through his things or they would cut off your hands, then slammed the door shut, leaving you all alone. The rest of the women had gone below deck, most likely to a shared room that was filthy and freezing cold. You, on the other hand, had a beautiful soft bed and a roaring fire to warm yourself by a small wooden dining table. There was a bookshelf tucked into the corner and your fingers itched to pull the books out and examine them, but you didn't dare. Instead, you sat on the small cushioned bench next to the only porthole in the room, tucking your knees against your chest protectively while you waited for the inevitable.

Sleep took hold of you at some point while you waited for the general to retire. The last thing you remembered was the open sea and the glorious golden sun beginning to dip just below the horizon. When you awoke, it was dark, the only light in the room coming from the fire. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and unfurled yourself from your bench to look around, then nearly yelped when you found the general quietly sitting at the table pouring himself wine.

Your heart raced violently in your chest, knowing full well what he expected of you. And despite offering yourself up earlier that day as a whore, you had decided you would not do it for this man. Because this man came to your booth in the market under the guise of kindness that turned out to be a lie, and it simply did not sit right with you.

"I will not lie with you willingly," you announced boldly with your arms crossed. The general quirked an eyebrow and took a long sip of his wine.

"When was the last time you have eaten?"

You scowled, body vibrating with energy and ready for a fight only to be met with indifference.

"I am not hungry."

"You will eat or you will die," he said, avoiding your eye and standing to collect a plate of food by the door. He dropped it onto the table and pointed angrily at it. "Eat."

"Why?"

"You need your strength, you are frail."

"You do not like your whores thin, then?" you shot back. Acacius clenched his jaw, eyes still cast down. "You wish to fatten me up so you have something to hold onto when you force my legs apart?"

"That is enough!" he roared, fiery eyes finally finding yours and pinning you with an intense stare that had you trembling. "I will not be forcing you to do anything except eat. Now sit down, do not test my patience."

It was a combination of fear and hunger that made you obey, sinking down into the chair opposite his where the plate of lukewarm food awaited you. Acacius sat down and picked up his goblet, watching you from over the rim as you slowly began to pick at the food. You both remained silent while you ate and he drank, the only sound to be heard was the crackling from the fire and the distant laughter and yells from his men in the galley below.

He was right. You hadn't eaten in days. It was no wonder you fell asleep so quickly earlier. You wanted to express your thanks, but you were too stubborn. Instead, you finished your food and put the plate in the basin of water by the door before looking around the room once again. It was easily the nicest room on the ship. You had to imagine most of the soldiers would be sleeping in hammocks stacked on top of one another down below, but the general had the biggest, softest looking bed you had ever seen in your life.

But there was only one.

He watched you from his place at the table, studying your face as you worked out the mechanics.

"I will not force myself upon you if we share the bed," he said, dragging your attention back to him. He was still in his armor, all shiny and clean from the public celebration that took place prior to the army's departure.

"Why am I here, if not to pleasure you?" you asked. You sounded calmer than before but you were still very much on edge.

"You believe I would find pleasure in forcing myself upon a woman?" he questioned before draining his cup. You thought about it for a moment and shrugged.

"Perhaps. Yes."

He stared down at his empty chalice, your heinous opinion of him rolling around in his head and making his chest ache.

"Well, I do not," he proclaimed, standing up quickly and causing his chair to almost topple backwards. He began to unhook his heavy armor, dropping it into a pile on the floor until he was down to his tunic.

"If we were to lie together, it would be because you wish it so," he said softly with his back to you. You swallowed thickly.

"What am I to do here, then?" you asked as he began to turn down his sheets. He slid his tired body into bed and sighed.

"Whatever you like. So long as you stay in this room, you will remain unharmed."

You blinked rapidly, desperately trying to put the pieces together.

"That is all?"

"Yes. That is all. My only wish is you are safe and fed."

You couldn't help it. You had to ask.

"But... why?"

But the general rolled onto his side, effectively ending your conversation and leaving you wondering what you had gotten yourself into.

That first night, you did not share his bed. You slept on the bench by your porthole, curled up small, arms wrapped around yourself protectively until the sun rose. When you awoke, the general was gone, but a plate of food was left on the table for you.

The first week on the ship went exactly the same. You stayed in his chambers, staring out at the sea or sleeping until he returned way past dark with some food for you and a tired look in his eye. And every night, you slept on the bench, still far too distrusting of him.

The second week, the general brought a game with him at dinner time. Two cups and two wooden dice. The idea was you had to guess what you would roll. If you won, you got whatever you bet on the round. It wasn't that entertaining at first since you had only the clothes on your back and nothing else, but what you did have were stories or songs or a slight of hand trick your father taught you when you were young.

You wouldn't realize until much later that it was his way of getting to know you better.

"You released all the cows from the pasture?" Acacius repeated in disbelief. You giggled and nodded.

"I was only six years old! I thought they were being held against their will!"

Acacius laughed, the sound making you grin like a fool and your cheeks warm.

"Alright," he said once he got ahold of himself. "Go on."

You picked up the die and tossed them into a cup, giving it a firm shake and smiling when he shot you a playful wink.

You clapped the cup firmly over the table and before you raised it up, you announced, "One three and one five."

"What is your wager?"

You nodded towards his bookshelf. "One of your books."

He looked up at you in shock. "You can read?"

You gave him a fake look of disgust and nodded. "Of course I can read."

"And you have been here this whole time without picking up a book?"

"Your men told me they would cut off my hands if I touched what is yours."

His face softened and he sat back in his chair.

"No one will touch you," he told you firmly. You stared at one another, the heavy moment weighing between you, the implication of his words impossible to deny. No one will touch you because you are his.

To break the tension, you smirked and said, "So I suppose that means I do not need to wager the books?"

Acacius grinned and shook his head. "Too late, little one."

You rolled your eyes and lifted the cup, pouting when you saw two six's.

"Your turn," you said, pushing the cup to the side.

Acacius collected the dice and dumped them into the cup, shaking it while looking at you curiously from across the table and admiring the way the light from the fire flickered over your beautiful face.

"You can still take a book."

You perked up but shook your head. "That is against the rules of the game, General."

"I make the rules. Take a book tomorrow," he insisted before slamming the cup down. His large hand gripped the top of the cup, keeping it pressed tightly against the table.

"Your wager?" you asked, cocking your head to the side.

He swallowed, wondering if he should say what he wanted to say. The fear that you would pull away from him again fought against the insatiable attraction he had harbored for you for years. But the wine must have won the fight because he said, "One kiss."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and for a moment, he thought he made a horrible mistake. But then you squared your jaw and narrowed your eyes and said, "Go ahead."

He grinned, pulse thrumming excitedly in his throat when he said, "One one and one four."

But when he lifted the cup, his face fell. A three and a six.

"Ah, well," he said, shoulders drooping. He yawned and stood to collect the dice. "Better luck tomorrow."

Before you could stop yourself, you stood as well and leaned up to peck a chaste kiss against his scruffy cheek. He looked at you in surprise and you gave him a crooked grin.

"For the book."

He smiled and nodded, doing his best to hide his disappointment as you got yourself ready for bed. You had a small pillow and thin blanket to curl up with by the porthole, and it irked him that you wouldn't take more. He feared you would catch a sickness and your malnourished body wouldn't be able to fight off an infection, but you were so stubborn that he couldn't convince you otherwise.

However, the third and final week at sea had you shivering on your bench. Acacius could hardly sleep knowing how cold you were. He could hear your teeth chattering from across the room.

"I beg of you, please sleep in my bed," he said one night as you began to make your little nest by the porthole. You shook your head.

"I am fine, I swear it."

"You are not fine. Please, I will not touch you, you have my word."

You chewed on your lower lip and looked over his shoulder at his warm, plush bed. He could see your resolve begin to falter, so he offered to sleep on the bench in your place.

"No, do not be ridiculous. You have an army to lead tomorrow, you cannot be tense as a knot because you slept on a too small bench."

"I will if it means you are safe and warm," he said softly, his vulnerability taking you off guard.

"General-" you sighed, but he cut you off.

"Please. I promise I will remain on my side of the bed. Just stop being so stubborn for once in your life."

You scoffed and propped your hands on your hips. "For once in my life? And what would you know of it?"

He squinted at you and crossed his arms. "I know more than you think. I know you would not quit until you broke in that filly when you were twelve years old. I know you nearly pushed a boy down a well when he tried to kiss you in front of the whole school. I know you argued with your teacher over the correct spelling of amaranth and I know you poured every last bit of yourself into a dying farm just to keep the memory of your father alive."

Your jaw hung open in surprise, taken aback by the way he stored all of the little snippets of your life you had given him over the past two weeks only to end it with his own observation of you at the market.

You could feel yourself growing weak for him, the temptation to give in too much to bear. He had been slowly wearing you down since you arrived and perhaps he was right, perhaps you were far too stubborn because the last thing you wanted to do was go back on the proclamation you made that very first night.

So, you chose to be defiant.

"Fine," you snapped, swiveling on your heel and stomping towards his bed. "If you wish to share your bed with a whore so badly, then so be it."

Acacius rounded the bed and slipped in beside you, making sure to leave plenty of space.

"You and I both know you are no whore."

"Oh, you know so very much about me, I forget."

You tugged the heavy blankets up to your chin and tried not to audibly sigh at how comfortable it was in his bed.

"If you are a whore, tell me then: how many men have you laid with?"

You clenched your jaw, angry that he was able to figure you out so easily. Instead of answering, you rolled onto your side, your back to him, and muttered, "good night."

Acacius grinned and closed his eyes, proud of himself for besting you.

"Good night."

The following morning, you awoke earlier than usual. When your eyelids fluttered open, the first thing you noticed was the ache in your bones was gone. The large, soft bed had been enough to cure you in just one night.

Not something you planned on admitting to the general, of course.

The second thing you noticed when you sat up in bed was that the ship was not moving. It was completely still, and you could hear loud, quick footsteps outside your door and above your head. Men were shouting to one another and the clink of swords and armor were echoing throughout the halls. Then, through the walls somewhere above you, you heard the general's deep, booming voice yelling orders to his men. You threw off the blankets and hurried to the porthole, your eyes widening when you saw land and small boats being lowered into the water.

You had arrived at whatever distant land the emperors demanded Acacius claim for Rome, and the soldiers were getting ready to depart for their first fight.

You chewed nervously on your nail, curled up against the wall and peering out the window for hours until the very last boat sailed away. In the distance, you could see the general's broad back covered in armor, his dark curls fluttering in the sea breeze and his massive sword tucked dutifully at his waist.

He had left for war and didn't even say goodbye.

Why would you care if he said goodbye? Maybe if they all die, you could escape to shore and be free, find a new city and make a home for yourself.

Even you had to admit that fantasy was foolish. No matter where you went, your fate would always be the same. You had no money, no prospects, no skills and no family. Your destiny was already written and it was a miracle your first attempt at prostitution landed you in the cushy quarters of Rome's surprisingly respectful general.

Your nerves kept your feet moving all day. You tidied up the general's desk, sorting his papers and maps. You scrubbed at the dishware until they sparkled and you made the bed, fluffing up the pillows and tucking in the loose edges until you had nothing left to do. The room was as neat as possible, not a single item out of place, and yet you still floundered around looking for something to occupy your busy mind.

When the sun began to dip and his room grew darker, you went around lighting candles to allow for more light. You were in the middle of lighting the last candle when you heard a timid knock at the door.

Nobody had ever come to his chambers the entire three weeks besides the general himself. You swallowed anxiously, wondering who it could be and if you should answer when you heard a woman's small voice from the other side of the door.

You decided it was safe and opened the door a crack to find one of the whores you had boarded the ship with waiting on the other side with buckets of water and a basin.

"For the general," she said softly. You nodded and dragged the buckets into the room, trying not to stare at the bruises and dirt littering her dry skin. Your stomach twisted with guilt after she left and you locked the door. The other women were living like cattle and you were living the life of luxury. Not only was the general not forcing you to fuck him, but you were giving him sass at every turn.

It was a harsh reminder of your fortune, of what your life could be like. The thought of living the life of the women below deck frightened you, so you had decided that evening when the general returned, you would give yourself to him to show your appreciation, as well as out of fear he would soon get rid of you if you didn't give him what he wanted.

You remained at your post, staring out at the dark sea until you could see the bobbing of lanterns making their way across the black expanse, letting you know the men were returning for the night. You rushed to warm up his water over the fire, dumping it into the large basin. You poured some scented oils into the bath just as the door unlocked and opened, revealing a very filthy and exhausted looking general holding two plates of food.

"Good evening," you said, standing obediently. Acacius paused at the door, confused by your formality before closing it with his heel and setting down the food at the table. "I have a warm bath ready for you, General," you added, pointing towards the basin. He nodded tiredly and began to work on the hooks of his armor. You rushed forward to help him, once again taking him by surprise until he was stripped down to his red tunic.

"Would you like to eat or bathe first?" you asked. The general sighed and looked longingly at the bath.

"I will clean myself while you eat," he said. He pointed towards the table and motioned for you to turn around.

"May I assist you instead, General?" you asked with your back turned. You could hear the shuffle of fabric falling to the wooden floor and then a sharp hiss when he sunk down into the warm water.

"Assist me with what? Cleansing myself? I believe I can manage," he chuckled. You turned around to stare at the back of his head, his body now submerged in the water and hidden from view, but you could still see his shoulders and arms. They looked bruised and bloodied.

He didn't notice your eyes on him, of course. He was busy scrubbing the dirt and blood from his skin while he looked around the tidy room.

"It is very nice in here, you did not have to straighten up."

It was the least you could do and you knew it but said nothing.

Instead, you shakily lifted your worn tunic over your head and let it crumple to the floor. Nerves fluttered in your stomach as you slowly approached him, the general completely unaware as he continued to scrub his skin.

"I can think of another way to assist you," you said nervously as you stepped into his eyeline. His chin tilted up and he did a double take when he saw your naked form standing before him. His cloth dropped into the water and his jaw fell open in surprise, eyes wide and greedily raking over your body.

"Wh- what is this?" he stammered, gaze glued to your chest. Your fingers fidgeted at your sides under his scrutiny.

"I thought I would show you my appreciation for your hospitality," you explained. "I would like to repay you in some way for choosing me to share your quarters."

A small smile tugged at his lips as he eagerly reached forward, then stopped when he registered your words. He looked up at you questioningly, excitement falling from his face when he asked, "What do you mean, repay me?"

You shrugged and took a hesitant step forward, close enough now so he could reach out and touch your cunt if he chose.

"I realized today my fate could have been much harsher," you explained. "I have not been showing you my appreciation and respect, and in return, I wish to give you my body to use as you see fit."

Acacius frowned and turned his head away, searching for the cloth so he could continue cleaning himself.

"I do not want your body as payment, I believe I told you that weeks ago."

"You said we would not lie together unless I wished it so," you protested. "I now wish it."

"You wish to lay with me out of obligation, not desire. That is not something I want."

Embarrassment and confusion flooded your mind as you slowly stretched your arms across your exposed body, trying to hide yourself out of shame.

"I apologize-"

"Get yourself decent and eat," he commanded without looking up. His voice sounded hard and cold and for some reason, it made you want to cry. You did as you were told, dragging your dirty tunic over your head and sat quietly at his table to pick at your food. You were confused and ashamed, sitting in the tense room with him while you tried to work out what he wanted from you. The idea of wanting a man out of desire never occurred to you. You had grown up under the impression women of your station did not get to experience the luxury of desire, and instead came to terms early on in life that you always had one asset to use at your disposal.

Not one time did you ever imagine being with a man out of affection or love.

"I apologize," you tried again after he had dried off and joined you. He had changed into a clean, white tunic and was clenching a similar one in his fist.

"You may use this," he said, ignoring your apology yet again. He thrusted the tunic towards you and you fumbled when you took it from his grasp. "The one you are wearing looks as if it might fall apart the moment you step outside and feel the sea breeze."

"Thank you," you murmured, fingertips brushing over the soft and expensive material in your lap.

"I will also call for more water tomorrow so you may wash yourself," he said before biting into a chunk of bread.

Your cheeks went hot with shame, still feeling guilt over the mercy and generosity he had shown you.

"I do not know what it is to desire someone," you said after a few quiet moments. Acacius continued to chew and kept his focus fixed on his plate. "I never imagined it would be a part of my life. May I remind you we come from different worlds."

He grunted in response but you noticed his shoulders begin to relax.

"I understand. But you must stop treating yourself as a whore. You are so much more than that, I have seen it with my own eyes. And to watch you debase yourself, to think so lowly of yourself, breaks my heart."

Your breath caught in your throat and you felt tears begin to well up, quickly threatening to spill down your cheeks. How could you have been so wrong? How could you not see the man for who he really was? He was a man who was gentle, kindhearted, protective and most importantly, cared very deeply for you. To what extent, you were unsure, but if he wanted you to desire him and he saved you from being used by countless other men, he certainly must have harbored stronger feelings than you ever thought possible.

"Alright."

His dark eyes flicked up to yours when you spoke.

"I will not debase myself," you said flatly. The corner of his mouth twitched before he looked back down at his food.

"Very well. I am pleased that has been sorted," he replied before shoving his plate off to the side and standing to collect the cups and dice. "Shall we play a few rounds before bed?"

You grinned and nodded, gathering up your plates and dumping them in the water by the door to clean later before joining him back at the table. And somehow, the awkwardness from the evening faded away after a few rolls of the dice.

It had been two weeks docked off shore on some foreign land. You hadn't left his room in over a month and you were beginning to feel insane. You told him as much early one morning when he was dressing for battle. It was still dark outside. Acacius had mentioned he wanted to arrive on shore before dawn so that he might get into position under the cover of night.

"When I return tonight, I will take you up on the deck for some fresh air," he promised as he cinched up his armor. "Do not leave this room when I am not here."

"Why not? Are your men not with you during the daytime?" you asked from his bed.

"It is not my men I worry about," he explained, sheathing his sword after lacing up his sandals.

"Then what do you worry for?"

"I worry about everything," he confessed. His hand was on the doorknob poised to leave, but he stopped to turn to you one last time. "I do not trust the soldiers from this city not to try to climb aboard the ships whilst we are gone. It is important the ships appear empty."

You nodded in understanding before burrowing back in his sheets and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of you looking comfortable and radiant in his bed.

"Behave, my dove, and we may dine on the deck tonight," he said, making you smile wide. He slipped quietly out of his room and locked the door behind him, fearful if he lingered any longer, he may not leave the ship the whole day.

You spent the afternoon reading and bathing and cleaning the general's dirty clothes in the extra water he had brought up after he left. You weren't sure how it happened, but the two of you had fallen into a life of domesticity amidst war without even sharing so much as a kiss.

What surprised you the most was you enjoyed it. You enjoyed tending to his things and cleaning what you could during the day, and then caring for him at night when he returned all bloodied and tired.

It had not once crossed your mind that he may not return until it happened.

That night, you saw the lanterns bobbing over the water, your signal to begin heating up his water for a bath. Your hair smelled like the expensive oils you poured into his water from your own bath earlier. You smiled to yourself when you thought of smelling like him, and him of you.

Heavy footsteps landed on the wooden floorboards above your head and outside your door. At first, nothing seemed amiss. Acacius usually didn't come to his room right away. He typically visited the wounded soldiers in the infirmary, making sure they were well tended to and fed before doing his rounds, assigning a night crew, and then finally gathering food for you both before retiring for the evening.

But more time passed than usual. You could tell because your stomach began to rumble and his water grew lukewarm. You paced around the room, ears straining to hear the voices from the other soldiers, trying to discern anything from their muffled conversations.

It wasn't until two hours went by that you heard a sharp rap at the door and a man's voice echoing on the other side, announcing he brought you food.

Your blood went cold and you wondered if you should open the door, but then you remembered Acacius told you he wasn't worried about his own men, the underlying message being that his soldiers would never touch what was his. So after a moment's hesitation, you swung open the door.

"Here," a young man said, shoving one plate of food towards you. His face was stained with dried blood and dirt and you frowned before taking the food and thanking him softly.

"Where is the general?" you asked timidly.

"He fell in battle," he grumbled before turning away. Your heart plummeted as you reached out and grabbed his shoulder, taking him by surprise.

"What do you mean?" you exclaimed. Fear and adrenaline mixed with something foreign coursed through your veins as you felt your lower lip tremble. The solider shook you off with disgust before stepping back.

"He was struck down. Last I saw of him he was lying still on the battlefield."

When he saw the look of despair on your face, he took pity on you.

"Others were assisting him, his body will return to Rome," he assured you before giving you a firm nod and disappearing down the long hall, leaving you to collapse into a fit of sobs behind the locked door.

The feeling you had in your chest was similar to the way you felt when your father passed, but something was different. It felt like a piece of you went dark, like you may never smile or laugh ever again. Grief consumed every fiber of your being and you found yourself crawling into his bed, face streaked with tears so thick you could hardly see your hands reach for his pillow. You pulled it tightly against your chest and you curled up around it, muffling your wails until your head began to pound and your body felt weak.

You drifted in and out of sleep, tossing and turning until the room grew cold and the fire dissolved into embers. You stood and wrapped a blanket around yourself, sniffling and shuffling over to the fire to stoke the flames wearing the general's spare tunic he had gifted you. After a few minutes, the fire roared back to life and you sat back with a heavy sigh.

Just as you were wondering what you would do come morning and how you would ever be able to move on without him, you heard footsteps approaching. You whipped around in fear and tightened your grip on the blanket. With the general no longer around to protect you, you had assumed the other men would eventually come looking for you, but you had to admit you didn't expect it so fast.

You curled yourself into a ball on your old bench, staring at the doorknob, expecting to see it jiggle and eventually forced open from the other side, but to your surprise the lock clicked quietly and the door slowly creaked open.

When you saw the general appear, limping and bloodied but still alive, you practically screamed. You jumped to your feet and rushed over, moments away from throwing yourself into his arms before you caught yourself.

"Acacius," you whispered in disbelief, the informality slipping easily past your lips for the very first time. He gave you a tired smile and locked the door behind him.

"I apologize for missing dinner," he said. You laughed as two fresh tears trickled down your cheeks. Your hands hovered nervously over his armor as if you weren't sure where you could touch him.

"Apology accepted," you replied before gingerly unhooking the armor around his shoulders. He groaned with relief when you lifted the heavy metal off him and set it against the wall by the door to polish another time. When you turned back around, you gasped at the blood that had seeped through his tunic, staining the yellow fabric a dark red.

"You are hurt," you whimpered, then hurried around his room for clean cloths, healing oils, and salves he kept in his desk. "Take that off and sit down. Allow me to tend to your wound."

He wordlessly lifted the ruined tunic over his head, wincing slightly when the wound at his side pulled, and he sat down at the table just as you instructed. You collected some of the unused water from his bath and set it over the flames to warm up before scooping up some more and setting it on the table next to him.

"They stemmed the bleeding on the boat," he explained. "It just needs to be cleaned and perhaps -"

"I will handle this. You just rest and eat," you told him, pushing your plate of uneaten food in his direction. His eyes fell onto the food and he frowned.

"It is untouched," he said, "why did you not eat?"

"How could I when I thought you were dead?" you snapped as you brought a soaked rag to his side and began to gently pat at the nasty looking gash.

Acacius took a bite of food, the flavors melting onto his tongue and making him groan. He didn't realize how hungry he was and before he knew it, he had eaten all of the food except for the grapes. You were leaning across his lap, bandaging up his wound with intense focus. He sighed contentedly, basking in the warmth from the fire and the soft touch of your hand on his skin. He could already feel his strength beginning to return.

"That should hold," you said, sitting upright to inspect your work. He glanced down and raised his eyebrows at the neat little bandage you had adhered to his wound.

"You did a very good job. Where did you learn such things?"

You shrugged and began to clean up the salves and oils. "On a farm, many accidents happen. You learn quickly how to tend to a wound."

He smiled and sipped from the wine you had poured for him while watching you move around the room, disposing of his soiled clothes and rags and then bringing the bucket of warm water over to the table with a fresh cloth.

When you pulled the other chair closer and sat, fitting your legs between his knees so you could reach him, he began to protest.

"You do not need to -"

"I want to," you said, cutting him off with a warm, wet cloth on his aching shoulders. His eyelids fluttered with a groan, leaning back into his chair and giving in. It felt so wonderful to be washed by your hand, to have you so close and safe while tenderly caring for him. It was all he had been dreaming about for years, ever since the first day he saw you at the market.

"So many scars," you whispered, swiping the cloth down his broad, strong chest. His breathing stuttered when you reached his stomach and he tensed.

"I have been in many battles," he murmured with his eyes still closed. You hummed to yourself and continued to work, diligently and carefully scrubbing away the layers of blood and grime until you cleaned everything you could see.

"Can you lean forward, General?" you asked, "I would like to cleanse your back."

He nodded and with a grunt, sat upright so he could lean forward. You stood from your chair and positioned yourself behind him, taking great care with every swipe of your cloth, afraid of unearthing a new wound under all the filth.

"Back to general now, are we?" he asked.

Your hand paused on his shoulder blade. He sensed your confusion and he chuckled.

"When I first arrived, you called me Acacius," he explained.

"Oh," you breathed before continuing your work. "That was disrespectful, I -"

"No, I quite liked it," he said before you could finish apologizing. "You may call me Marcus when we are alone, if you prefer."

Your eyes widened and although he couldn't see you, he could tell you were surprised.

"That would be highly irregular," you finally said softly, putting down the wet cloth and picking up a bottle of perfumed oil. You sprinkled a few drops into your palm and you rubbed your hands together. "That name should only be used by those closest to you."

He opened his mouth to respond but when your slick hands found his shoulders and your fingers began to dig into the knots in his muscles, he moaned and felt himself go lax.

"Oh gods, that feels incredible," he rasped. The deep timber of his voice sent a wave of arousal right to your core. You continued to work on his back and shoulders, privately marveling at his broad frame and firm muscles under his scarred, bronzed skin. He was truly something to behold. So strong, handsome, and fearless. Yet also kind and gentle. The proximity of his body and the ricocheting emotions you had experienced that evening had you reacting to him in a way you never had before. It was confusing and strange yet also exciting, and the noises you were drawing from his mouth with every roll of your thumbs was causing a dull ache to form between your thighs.

You blinked and cleared your throat, trying to shake the heavy curtain of lust that clung to you.

"What happened out there? One of your men informed me you were dead."

Marcus sighed and sat up straight, the angle causing you to drop your hands from his tight shoulders. One of his massive hands reached back to take yours so he could lead you to stand in front of him, between his knees.

"They had called a truce. They requested to discuss terms of surrender, so I called off my men and went to speak with their king," he began, his hand still engulfing your own as he gazed up at you with his soft, dark eyes. "It was a trap. They ambushed me when I got out of range. It must have been twenty of them," he continued solemnly, his thumb brushing against your wrist as he spoke. "I slayed them all, one by one, but once I took down their final solider, an archer took aim from the wall. I was able to dodge the arrow but I was not quick enough," he chuckled and looked down at his wound. "I am not the young man I once was."

"I cried for hours," you admitted quietly. His eyes darted up to yours again, holding his breath as you spoke. "I had never considered you would not return to me at the end of the day. However, when I got word you had died-"

You paused when a sob got lodged in your throat. You knit your brows together, hoping to stave off your tears while Marcus patiently waited. Eventually, you gave him a watery smile and lifted your free hand to cup his cheek.

"I felt a grief I never thought I would feel again," you said, voice shaking. His eyes searched your face, watching the way your anguish rolled through you at the memory. He swallowed tightly and, with his other hand, gently gripped your waist.

"Tell me," he whispered, "did you feel these things only because you feared for your safety if I was not here?"

You shook your head as one singular tear trickled down your cheek.

"No," you breathed, "it was because I felt like a part of me died, too. Because I could not imagine my life without you."

When you saw the joyful look in his eye, you quickly closed the remaining distance between you, leaning down the rest of the way and slanting your mouth desperately over his. He moaned and dropped your hand so he could cup the back of your neck, pulling you even closer so you were forced to straddle his lap.

"Do you know what you do to me?" he groaned amid kisses that were growing increasingly messy as the heat between you grew. "How badly I want you? How long I have waited?"

Your mind was blank. You couldn't think of a single thing to say, but Marcus didn't give you a chance to respond, anyway. His tongue slipped past your lips, greedily swirling in tandem with yours and forcing your jaw to open wider. The hand on your waist dropped to flatten against your lower back and he pressed you forward so not even a sliver of moonlight could sneak between your bodies.

Underneath your gifted tunic, you were bare. When you joined the other whores all those weeks ago, they told you there was no use for undergarments, that the men would just destroy them if you bothered to wear any, so just like all the others, you never did. It had never been a problem until that very moment, when Marcus had you writhing in his lap, hips stretched wide and cunt free to rub against his thigh. When you first made contact with his leg, the firm muscle brushing against your sensitive clit, you jumped in his lap and moaned into his mouth.

"Tell me, sweet thing," he murmured when he finally broke the kiss. You were panting heavily, eyelids drooping with need as you gazed down at him. "I know you have not sold yourself to a man, but have you ever laid with one before?"

You shook your head and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, holding him close. His lips brushed up against your throat and he began to suck on the sensitive skin there as both of his hands fell to your hips. Gently, he rocked you back and forth, sliding your slick, bare cunt over his thigh. He heard you sigh and smiled against your skin when your head dipped backwards in pleasure.

"Does that feel good?"

"Yes," you whispered, voice raspy and thick. "Oh, yes, it feels... heavenly," you told him with a sigh.

"Good," he grunted, "keep going. Do not stop until you come. I will need you soft and wet before you take my cock."

"Yes, General," you replied obediently, making his cock jump behind his thin loincloth.

Marcus tugged at the back of your loose tunic, stretching the material across your breasts so your hardened nipples poked through. With a low growl, he lunged forward and wrapped his mouth around one, cloth and all. His teeth added a surprisingly tantalizing amount of pressure that had you gasping for air as your hips quickened their pace over his thigh. You must have been leaving streaks of arousal all over him but something told you he didn't mind.

"You desire me, yes?" he questioned when he switched his attention to your other breast. You nodded feverishly, face tilted towards the ceiling as you chased your pleasure.

"Yes," you gasped, "yes, Ge- Marcus."

He groaned so loudly you thought he might wake up the whole ship.

"Fuck, say that again."

You smiled and circled your hips faster, grinding down onto his thick leg. You were so close, you could taste it.

"Marcus," you whined, "oh, Marcus. I cannot wait to feel you inside of me. I just know you will make me feel so good, will you not?"

Suddenly, his hand was back on your neck and his mouth was pressed tightly against the underside of your jaw, not unlike a wild animal pinning his prey against his sharp fangs. You could feel his hot puffs of air fanning across your skin and his teeth scraping your throat. His intensity might have frightened you if you weren't on the brink of an earth shattering orgasm.

"I will make you feel so good, you will never want to take another lover again," he said darkly. The hairs on your arms stood up but you continued to rut yourself as fast as you could against his thigh, your own chest heaving as you fought for air. "And if I have it my way, you never will," he added.

His words were what tipped you over the edge. You cried out his name and clutched at his shoulders for support as your orgasm rolled through you, covering him with your slick.

Your body was still trembling in his arms when he lifted you up and carried you to the bed. You blinked rapidly in response, poised to argue with him about potentially reopening his wound, but before you could get a single word out he had tossed you onto the sheets and climbed on top of you, caging you in.

"Before I ravish you, my sweet, what do you know of coupling?"

You scoffed. "I am no fool, I know how it works."

Marcus chuckled at your snark and sat back on his heels to peel your tunic over your head, exposing yourself entirely to him. A groan rumbled through his wide, bare chest as he stared down at you hungrily, all spread out and ready for him.

"I cannot lie. Ever since you first stood before me naked, your beautiful body has consumed my every waking thought."

"It shows incredible restraint, then, for you to share a bed with me each night," you teased, eyes dancing playfully as he stripped himself of his loincloth.

"You have no idea," he growled, falling back onto his forearms. The tip of his nose nudged against yours affectionately. "I have waited years for this, my sweet."

The idea of any man pining after you, let alone the mighty General of Rome, was a strange and foreign concept.

"I am just the daughter of a poor farmer," you muttered, fingers brushing his peppered curls behind his ear.

"Your station means very little to me," he replied, looking down between your bodies so he could notch the thick head of his cock at your opening. "The heart wants what the heart wants."

Your pulse quickened when you felt the slight bit of pressure he applied. Knowing how it worked was one thing, experiencing it for the first time was another.

"I-I was told it may hurt," you said meekly. Marcus's eyes found yours and he tenderly cupped your jaw.

"Yes, that is true, but I promise it will not last long," he assured you. You swallowed and nodded before spreading your legs wider and hooking your ankles around the backs of his thighs.

"Tell me if it is too much," he murmured. He pressed your foreheads together, lips hovering above yours, ready to soothe you from the pain.

"Go on, then," you said bravely.

Slowly, he breeched your opening and sunk one inch inside of you. You gasped and dug your heels harder into his thighs, but Marcus held steady.

"Speak," he demanded after a few seconds of listening to your heavy breathing.

"It stings," you admitted, "but it is not... unpleasant."

He nodded and pecked a chaste kiss against your lips before giving you another inch. You whined and squirmed a bit but once you settled, he took it as his cue to continue. It went just like that until he finally found himself fully seated inside of your tight heat.

"The worst is over, my sweet," he told you.

You wiggled underneath him, moving this way and that until you got used to the feeling of him inside you. Your hands wrapped around the backs of his biceps and you stretched your neck so you could bite and nip playfully at his prickly jaw.

"I enjoy being full of you," you admitted shyly, eliciting a grunt from the back of his throat.

"Good," he grumbled before drawing back his hips and slowly easing himself back inside your warmth. "Because I intend on having you full of me as much as possible. I fear I will never have enough now that you have given me a taste."

Your jaw dropped open when he began to move faster, gently and steadily working you open, carving a space for himself inside of you forever. The only thing you wanted was to have him as close as you could, so you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face against his neck, molding your bodies together as one.

"My sweet girl," he panted, mouth hunting for yours. "You feel better than I ever dreamed. So fucking tight and wet. I cannot believe my fortune, that you would give yourself to me. I wonder if I did indeed die in battle and have ascended to the heavens."

The stretch was divine, his heavy length dragging in and out of you and nudging against a spot that made your stomach clench and your head grow fuzzy.

"Do not say such things," you scolded him breathlessly. His hips stilled for a moment, waiting for you to continue. "Do not jest about your death. My heart cannot handle it."

His eyes softened and his mouth crashed against yours with a groan, overcome that you would feel so strongly for him. He began to roll his hips again but kept his mouth latched onto yours, swallowing down your whimpers and moans.

"I will never leave you," he whispered against your lips. His thrusts grew quicker but he tried his best to be careful and not drive himself too deep for fear of causing you pain. "I will always return now that I have you waiting for me. I shall be invincible in battle."

You laughed lightly, dragging your mouth down his throat and tasting his freshly perfumed skin.

"Was that all it took for you to become immortal?" you teased.

"Yes," he hissed, "a cunt as snug and perfect as yours is all a man needs to give him purpose."

His hand slithered between your back and sheets, pressing his palm firmly against your spine so you arched underneath him. His knees spread wider so he could get better leverage, and he began to roughly snap his hips. You gasped and grabbed onto his hair, giving it a sharp tug and making him groan. It was lewd yet somehow romantic, hearing the sound of your skin slapping together in the otherwise quiet room.

"Does it hurt?" he managed to ask through clenched teeth.

"No," you whimpered inbetween the soft moans he drew every time his cock slammed back into you. "Oh gods, Marcus, please-"

"What do you need, my love?"

He sounded breathless, his voice slightly strained, and your chest burst with pride. You loved the idea of being the one who made such a strong man so very weak.

"I- I am not sure," you admitted truthfully. "It feels so wonderful, but it is different than before."

As it turned out, you didn't need to figure out what you needed because Marcus knew. Somehow, he managed to know your body better than you. He knew how to make it sing and thrum just for him.

His hand snuck between your bodies and the pad of his thumb found your clit. He rubbed firm, slow circles over the sensitive bud, and his name instantly flew from your mouth, loud and wild. You likely could be heard from shore, but Marcus never shushed you. In fact, he smiled and worked his thumb faster, drawing out more delicious moans with every stroke.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured while sucking a mark into your neck. He could feel your lower belly begin to tense and heard your breath waver, so he circled his hips faster, cock greedily plunging in and out of your soaked cunt, chasing his release with reckless abandon now that he could feel you were close.

"I have obsessed over you for years. Dreamed of having you all to myself, just like this," he continued. He could sense his words had a great effect on you. Your walls fluttered and pulsed around him when he admitted his deepest secrets, so he kept talking.

"Long nights spent on the cold ground in the middle of war, I would dream of you. I would wonder what you would be doing back in Rome. I would pray you did not find a husband while I was away."

Marcus gasped when your cunt gripped around him so tightly that it took his breath away. "The thought of you belonging to another was enough to drive me insane," he groaned before capturing your lips with his.

"I am yours," you rasped when he pulled away, and when your eyes locked, he could see the adoration he felt for you reflected right back. "For as long as you will have me, I am yours."

Marcus's eyes slid closed in bliss after hearing the words he so longed to hear. "Come for me, my love. Come for me and when we return home, I shall make you my wife. I will take care of you. I promise you will never go hungry again."

Your hands grappled with the back of his head, fingers threading through his unruly locks as you pulled him down for a searing kiss. He muffled the sounds of your orgasm, cries of his name dying in your throat while your body bucked wildly beneath him.

It only took a few moments before he joined you. With his hand roughly squeezing your hip, he yanked you towards him. His body stilled, pumping you full of his seed while your tongues danced together in tandem until his shoulders sagged and you began to shake.

Marcus flicked the sheets so he could toss them over your trembling bodies. He planted kisses along the side of your head and jaw, then brushed the hair away from your face until your breathing leveled and your eyes reopened.

"Are you alright?"

You nodded and gave him a weak smile. "I am tired."

Marcus withdrew his hips, sliding his softening cock out from your clutch. You cried out in pain and he instantly jolted out of bed to soak a clean rag in some leftover warm water, then hurried back to press it between your legs.

"Better?"

"Yes," you sighed. "Thank you."

He gave you a quick kiss and slid back under the covers. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest so he could nuzzle your hair and murmur sweet nothings in your ear.

"Must you leave me in the morning? Can you not spend just one day recovering from your wound?"

Marcus kissed your bare shoulder and shook his head.

"The war is almost done. Tomorrow, I will make them surrender so we may sail home and start our life together."

You grinned and burrowed deeper under the covers. "Did you mean that?"

"What is that, my love?"

"When you said you would make me your wife," you said sheepishly. "Or was that just your mind getting lost to desire?"

"No, I meant every word," he said before rolling over and snuffing out the candle next to the bed. "When we return to Rome, I will make you my bride. You will bear my children and I will watch them play in the garden with you by my side."

You hummed and closed your eyes. "That sounds lovely."

You had very little idea of the politics in Rome and how the highest ranking general of the Roman army could possibly announce he was going to wed a poor farmer's daughter, but you knew deep down if Marcus wanted it, he would somehow make it happen. You knew this because his determination always won, on and off the battlefield.

After all, you were living proof of it.

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Season 3

Wrong Hotel Room

Kara was walking around this hotel. It seemed like your normal Marriott type hotel but it held a weird magic power that could effect the people staying there in various ways.

Kara went into her room and as she went in she saw the things in her room change. Her clothing became folded up male button up shirts. Khakis. And she looked at her shoes on the ground changing into size 13 men’s shoes.

Kara was shocked but in the coming moments her body began to grow and get larger. Muscles filled out. Her breasts became pecs, as a dusty of hairs appeared on them and went down to her hardening stomach.

He felt a pulling sensation as his new cock formed between his thickening legs, as his feet began to grow and expand. The toes thickened and heels became calloused. They broke out of his small sandals, as Kara looked the mirror to see his face changing in front of his eyes.

Hank watched as his hair receded and finished changing. His face aged and changed as his features became more mature and into his 40s. His hairline receded upward, as blue trunks appeared on his legs. Hank’s mind quickly reset as he stared at himself in the mirror.

“Time to get a swim in” he said thinking about going to the hotels pool.

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Soft Feathers, Softer Kisses 🦉

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I'm soooo excited for y'all to see this!!!!

My first time writing for Telemachus and EPIC in general so please go easy on me 🥲

This was born from my need to smooch Tele. He's so cute 🥹

*the art is not mine, I got it from pinterest, if anyone knows the artists lmk pls!*

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You're betrothed to the prince of Ithaca. His father is lost at sea and 108 suitors are pushing his mother to choose a new king. When one of them insults the queen, a fight breaks loose, and you end up fiercely defending your lover with a determined owl at your side.

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The sound of your sandals on the smooth palace floor echoed off the marble walls, the fabric of your chiton that wasn't bunched up in your hands was brushing against your legs while you hurried towards the hall.

The commotion had managed to make its way through the entire building like a breeze of the salty sea air.

Still, the news reached you later than you'd have liked.

Worry and anger twisted in your chest, a feeling like countless arrows piercing your heart. Your lungs were burning, no breath managing to get enough oxygen in your blood.

You had to hurry.

They would eat him alive.

You were well aware of the suitors. The 108 men who'd grown stubborn roots in the palace and refused to leave without getting a chance.

The king had been gone for so long, leaving his throne empty and his family behind. It had been two decades since he sailed off to war.

Not many believed he was even still among the living, instead thinking he was slaving away in his place in the Underworld.

The queen managed to keep the kingdom from ruin for years, ever since her beloved left, and yet they insisted on a new a king, a new man to wear the crown and sit upon the throne.

A new man to take Penelope as his wife.

The moment they showed up at the gates you'd stared at them with disgust, boring into them with your sharp gaze.

None of them were fit to lead, let alone rule an entire kingdom.

The queen stalled and stalled, the hope of her husband's return heavy on her heart.

However, the suitors soon grew impatient. Causing havoc within the walls of the palace, pounding on Penelope's doors, threatening bloodshed if she didn't choose a new king.

And now, your betrothed, the prince of Ithaca, was caught in the middle of it all because he was cursed with a heart too big for his body.

When you turned the corner of the hallway, you were met with a sight that made your heart shatter and wrath boil in your veins.

The suitors had circled Telemachus, leaving him trapped with no way out while Antinous stood over him, broad shoulders throwing shadows on the face of your beloved.

He was beaten and bloodied, heaving while trying to fight back.

Although a small, proud smile cracked on your face when you saw some of the men limping or nursing their bruised eyes.

Even Antinous was left with crimson streaks dripping from his mouth, staining his teeth. Your feet were carrying you further in their direction, a mindless action.

Panic struck you when Antinous raised his hand to deliver another blow.

Without thinking, you called out to him, rage tinting your voice accompanied by the angry grinding of your teeth.

"Antinous!" You yelled, a scowl on your face as you forced your way through the ocean of suitors.

"Get away from him!"

The giant man lowered his hand with a deep chuckle and turned to face you with a smirk that made the previously boiling blood to freeze.

"If it isn't the little princess. Come to save your prince, have you? I swear it's the other way around."

The grin that sat on his face, his bloodstained teeth exposed, made bile rise up your throat.

The men chuckled, making Telemachus' head fall forward in shame.

You payed them no mind, rushing to your lover.

Giving Antinous a look that could kill, you kneeled down next to Telemachus and cupped his face, a worried crease forming between your brows while you gently brushed your thumb over the blooming bruise on his cheek to soothe it.

"Look at you.. you're bleeding!" You gasped, quickly using your chiton to wipe away the blood on his face.

"I'm fine, I promise."

Telemachus gave you an unconvincing smile, followed by a wince. The worried look on your face tugged at his heart.

You looked like you were about to cry, and he hated to think that he was the reason.

"You're not fine. You're bruised and-and what if you broke a bone? How did this even happen? They knew there'd be consequences if they-"

the words just spilled out of you, the concern for your lover was something you could no longer contain.

He cupped your cheek and smiled weakly.

"My love, please. I assure you, I'm alright-"

He was cut off by Antinous, a scoff falling from his split lips. You scowled again and rose from your knees, a panicked expression appearing on your beloved's face.

"No, don't-"

Telemachus grasped at your hand, only for you to gently tug it from his grip as you approached Antinous.

Only when you made your way over to the grinning man did you notice a big owl circling the suitors, flying high towards the tall ceiling.

You spared it a glance, noting the magnificent coloring of its feathers and the bright eyes filled with something you could only describe as a sense of justice.

Not once had you see such determination in an animal, but it managed to put your mind at ease a little.

"You filthy dog! Who do you think you are?! He is your prince, whether you like it or not. And you have no right-" you snarled, raising your hand to point a finger at him.

He quickly caught your wrist in his fierce grip, a deep frown sitting on his face.

Antinous glanced at Telemachus, who was holding his aching side trying to pull himself off the ground, before averting his eyes back to you.

"He doesn't look very princely to me."

The smirk he sported was enough to make the fire in your chest spread even more.

"You-" you sneered only to be interrupted by Antinous again.

"What? Hm? What will you do?"

"Stop." Telemachus heaved, supporting himself on a marble pillar.

You didn't let yourself be intimidated by him and rivaled him with a look just as sharp.

"There's a special place in Tarturus for you, Antinous. If he'd even allow it." You spoke quietly but firmly, feeling satisfaction bloom in your heart at his reaction.

Antinous scowled, tightening his grip around your wrist.

"He," he began, "is dead."

You smirked, a scoff making its way past your lips.

"You better pray to the gods. Lady Tyche is not on your side. You'll be lucky enough if he even grants you a way to the Underworld. I hope you have enough gold on hand. Because the only way you're getting across the Styx is in pieces." You spat at him, venom dripping from your tongue.

Antinous bared his teeth, fury blazing in his eyes as he raised his other hand in the air, presumably to strike you.

"Get."

Telemachus' voice boomed through the hall, a scorned look on his face.

"Your hands. Off of her." He sneered, pushing himself away from the pillar.

"Do you want another beating, boy?" The giant man roared, almost crushing your wrist in his hand.

Down came your feathered friend, swooping in with its sharp claws and a chilling screech, successfully tearing open a new scar across Antinous' eye. He cried out and dropped your wrist, clutching his face instead.

The other men quickly drew their swords, swinging at the bird, only to miss and receive a peck from its beak against any vulnerable spot.

The owl evaded the suitors' weapons with such grace and struck back with such vigor that you were almost mesmerized.

"Α��άπη μου." *(my love)

Telemachus' gentle call for you snapped you out of your haze.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, worried Antinous had caused you any harm. You stared at him, your lips parted.

"I... no. No, I'm alright. We should leave." You said hurried, supporting his weight while you dragged him down an opposite corridor.

You spared the suitors and the mysterious owl a last glance, a smirk tugging at your lips at the sight of 108 men being defeated by a bird.

Antinous caught your gaze, and he snarled at you, still holding his eye.

"Next time.." he called out after you, "you're dead."

The threat sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine, but he was quickly put back in line by the owl, who promptly delivered a peck to the top of his head.

With a small smile playing on your face, you led your beloved back to his rooms to take care of his wounds.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Back in your chambers, you knelt in front of Telemachus, a worried crease between your brows while you gently held a damp linen cloth to his swollen and split knuckles.

The pure white fabric was stained with the crimson blood of your lover, a sting in your heart.

Telemachus sighed and took your chin in his hand, tilting your head to look him in the eyes.

"Λουλούδι μου, your expression pains me. I'd rather see your heartwarming smile." He spoke with a small grin, hissing when his busted lip reopnend and the blood began pouring once more. *(my flower)

Quickly, you pressed the cloth to his mouth, a deep frown on your face.

"And your state pains me. You-... You could've died. These are vicious, feral men, and as much as I don't doubt your ability to stand your ground, 108 against 1.... the odds weren't on your side." You replied, such sadness in your eyes it made Telemachus' heart ache.

"I wouldn't be able to live with myself if..." you sighed deeply, tears threatening to fall from your lashline while your head fell forward.

His gentle hands cupped your face, the rag in your grasp long forgotten.

"But I'm okay. I promise you, my love, it's barely a scratch." A smile cracked on his face and you couldn't help but chuckle, followed by a sniffle.

"You have a larger heart than all those men combined." You whispered, pressing your palm right above his beating heart.

Telemachus cupped your hand and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fell shut at the sensation as you melted further into his touch.

"Besides," he broke the silence, a smirk on his lips, "I had help."

He glanced towards his balcony and you followed his line of sight, being met with the owl resting contently on the railing, curiosity in its bright eyes.

"Yes," you chuckled, rising to your feet and walking towards the creature, gently dragging Telemachus behind you by his hand, "your mysterious feathered friend. Care to introduce me?"

"Right. Her name's Ath-"

he was cut off when the owl screeched at him and furiously flapped her wings. He startled and chuckled nervously, clearing his throat.

"I-I meant A... Alena. Yes. Her name's Alena."

If an owl had shoulders and they could sag, this is what you'd imagine it'd look like.

You laughed softly, watching as the bird narrowed her sharp eyes at Telemachus. He swallowed thickly and gave her an awkward smile.

"Well, Thank you." You said sincerely, smiling when the owl bowed her head at you.

What a curious creature.

"We should get you some ointments for those cuts and bruises."

You turned back to your beloved.

"I told you, I'm totally fi- ow."

He winced, holding his side that would undoubtedly bloom with purples and blues come evening. You sighed softly and shook your head at him.

"You're too sweet for your own good sometimes."

You caressed his cheekbone and pressed your lips to his in a gentle kiss, minding his injuries. He hummed into the kiss, resting his hands on your waist.

Lost in your embrace, the owl made another sound, something closer to the typical hoot, averting your attention to her.

She ruffled her feathers and with a last glance at the both of you she took off into sky. With a content expression you watched her glisten in the afternoon sun.

Telemachus had a bright smile on his face and waved after her, watching as she flew into the sunset, disappearing behind the horizon.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Please let me know what you thought! <3

More of my stuff -> 💫

I think you wanna see this @withonly-sweetheart @allysunny 👀

Thank you so so so much to @vampkennedy for assisting me with the translations 🩷

[spurbleu]

just something about soap with an older woman makes me nuts

blistering tongue during a summer past her prime, with too much money to know what to do with it. hangs her accolades on the subtle clinquant walls of her yacht, next to the successful divorce paper. smokes like a sailor despite never setting foot on a boat smaller that 33 feet.

sends out an ad for brawns with a cleaning history. the grime in the divots of her boat floor have begun to bother her sandals. it calls for firm arms and knuckles that bleed.

the brief letter that mentions a heavy salary reels in nearly 20 men from the homes of their rich fathers who’ve implored them to “invest in the working world”. it isn’t until johnny eagerly squares past the competition that she’s convinced someone has elbow grease.

despite the oafish appearance, he’s sharp. cleans thoroughly. the first time she checked his work was the last time she doubted him. then she watched for fun. those shorts she bought him do look so nice while he’s beaten by the sun and her requests for new lemonade.

cleans up nice when she helps him with his buzz, teaches him how to use the razor correctly (not quite used to a barber job that takes longer than five minutes). softens when he gives her a peck on her cheek before leaving, with a gentle “see ye taemorrow, miss” at the threshold of the stern.

ruminates giving him a raise.

speaking of, he keeps forgetting his envelope on his way out. she doesn’t blame him, hard to remember much of anything after fucking for hours. surprised he didn’t fall asleep- first man that’s ever been able to keep up and then some.

turns out an old dog can learn new tricks.

[whateveriwant]

The 141 in a reverse harem

18+ content, GN!Reader, Reader is the ruler of an ancient kingdom

Soap

The moment you step into their communal quarters, Soap is always the first one to greet you, almost Iike he was sitting right beside the door

But nooooo, don't be silly. Of course he's not been impatiently waiting since your last visit. Though, you were 28 and ¾ minutes later than normal, not that he's been counting or anything

As you walk around their dwelling deciding on who to take back to your chambers for the night, he's following closely behind like a little horny whiny puppy

More than once, he's accidentally stepped on your robes because of just how close he likes to trail after you

Oh, but he's so terribly sorry! Here, let him make it up to you! Please, please let him make it up to you!

Because he tries to hog the limited time you spend with the men, it's earned him more than a few elbows to the ribs from his biggest “rival” in the group: Gaz. And speaking of which…

Gaz

Always trailing a little less desperately closely behind is the newest member of the harem: Gaz

Though he may be the youngest of the four, that doesn't mean he's any less experienced in these types of matters (and the young ones are always the most eager to please, aren't they)

Have you had a good day, darling? He knows you're very busy running a kingdom and all, so he for one is grateful you've taken time out of your hectic schedule to visit them

Oh, but your shoulders look so tense, darling! He can rub them for you if you'd like

And your poor feet! Those sandals of yours look awfully uncomfortable. Why doesn't he head back with you so he can show your full body the love it deserves

While he and Soap can't help but bicker when it comes to vying for your attention, on the rare occasion, the two have been able to put aside their differences and work together, if you know what I mean

Price

Unlike the two younger men, Price feels no need to fight for your time

No, he knows you'll eventually make your way over to him, swaying your hips in that way that makes him salivate like a dog

As the oldest and the longest resident of the group, he's become somewhat of a right hand of yours; almost like a concubine turned consultant, if you will

While of course he loves nothing more than to get down to the nitty gritty with you, these talks of yours are truly the highlight of his day even when they're entirely polite in nature

Why yes, he has done something different with his beard, thank you for noticing. He got some new oils from the market yesterday. Do you like it? Isn't it soft? Just wait until you feel it between your thighs

No matter who you're taking to your bed for the evening, Price always escorts you to the door of their quarters, leaving you with a kiss to the hand goodbye. Until next time, starlight

Ghost

Last but certainly not least is the man you have the most… interesting dynamic with, to put it one way

It's funny, really. He likes to pretend the sweet taste of you doesn't haunt his every waking moment, and you like to pretend that there was anyone else on your mind the second you walked through the door

But oh, he sees that you've arrived yet again... Well, this book of his is super interesting, so he's just going to sit in the corner and read, and absolutely not watch you out of the corner of his eye

What was that? No, he's not holding it in his lap for any reason. And no, his pant legs aren't shorter than normal. Why would you think that?

Oh, but the moment you hold your hand out for him, he has to stop himself from immediately tossing the dumb book aside and hauling you over his shoulder like some sort of rabid beast

Instead, he takes his time standing from his seat, almost indifferent as he takes your hand and lets you lead him back to your chambers

It's all a farce though, of course. Nothing makes his pride swell more than having you scream his name for the whole palace to hear, echoing all the way back to where the three other men are left to sit and mope

[megamindsecretlair]

Said I Wouldn't, Part 2 - Final

Pairing: Dad!Terry Richmond x Virgin!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. Cursing, teasing (fem receiving), oral (female receiving), PIV, reader is tied up, virginity loss, mentions of Christian religious themes, breeding kink if you squint. All consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: Babysitting for Terry had its perks. You were able to see his gorgeous ass every night before heading off to your own house next door. But you thought your life was over when Terry caught you in his bedroom. The long-awaited talk clears up the air, but like magnets, it’s not long before you find yourself at his mercy. It’s not such a bad place to be.

Word Count: 5,680k

AO3 Link | Part 1

A/N: I...refuse to apologize for this one. I am so over the moon feral for this one. Like I make myself sick. LOL. I truly hope you enjoy! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You wrung your fingers one by one as you hovered beside your front door. Terry texted you earlier in the day to tell you that Troy would be spending the night at a friend’s house. You weren’t sure what that actually meant for the talk you were supposed to have.

Was it good news? That he wanted to explore the arrangement more? Become more of a full service nanny? Because not gonna lie, you were totally here for it. Or was he still going to give you “that talk”, that said you couldn’t do this again and it wasn’t fair to Troy who looked up to you both? Was he trying to ensure that you weren’t going to cry, scream, and throw up where Troy could see? 

There were too many variables and now you regretted telling him that you wanted to speak today. You should’ve thrown on your big girl panties and talked then. Talk after you were begging to be fucked. Begging. God. That man had you begging for dick. 

You wore your virginity as a source of pride at this point. While everyone told you horror stories about their first time or were so sex crazed that they were keying men’s cars, you saw your virginity as some rebellious act. Perhaps it was a way to feel empowered by your decision as opposed to beholden to it by circumstance. In any case, it was something you chose to keep over and over again.

The truth of the matter was that people expected big girls to accept whatever gremlin limped onto their doorstep. As if you weren’t allowed to have standards. As if you weren’t supposed to love your body enough to not treat it like trash and let everyone in. The body is a temple but only for certain girls. Yours had to be a McDonald’s drive through at three am in the hood. Fuck that.

Your sandals slapped against the hardwood floor as you tapped your foot waiting for Terry’s car to pull into the driveway. The anticipation was slowly killing you, bit by bit. Questions ran through your mind and sure, you could come up with possible answers. But after being caught yesterday, it was quite clear that you were terrible in an emergency. Your flight or fight response was all fucked up. 

The familiar sound of Terry’s car rumbled closer until he pulled his truck into the driveway. You peeked out of the window and watched as he got Troy out of the car and went inside. 

You checked your phone but Terry hadn’t said anything else. You sighed and tapped your phone against your thigh. You hadn’t known what to wear to something like this. A skirt to show you were open for business? A dress so it was less obvious? Pants so that he didn’t think that was all you wanted? Decisions, decisions. 

You opted for another bodycon dress. Fuck it. It’d become your Wednesday night outfit so it may as well work today as well. This time it was a deep navy blue that lowkey made you feel like a mermaid.

The biggest decision weighing heavily on you was the fact that you were about to hand over your virginity, if Terry was open to it. Willingly too. Sure, you knew the man for close to a year now and had plenty of nights where you stayed for dinner. But this was…serious. 

Perhaps too serious. You carried your virgin card for so long and once you spent it…that was it. There was no returning it. It should frighten you. Right now, you were mostly nervous. You liked and respected Terry. Felt safe enough with him to allow him to finger you like there was no tomorrow.

Your body flushed with heat remembering how tightly his hand gripped yours. You sighed and leaned against the wall, remembering the huge bulge in his shorts as he rubbed it against your ass. The deft way his thick fingers played with your pussy as if he were stroking a kitty. 

The slam of Terry’s door tore you away from your thoughts as you watched Terry get back in his truck with Troy. He backed out of the driveway and your heart jumped in your throat. 

Was it like this for other girls? Did they have all this anticipation when they lost their virginity? After a while, you stopped asking your friends questions. Stopped wanting to know every detail because you felt creepy asking. But there weren’t exactly books you  could read up on the matter. You could watch all the porn in the world, touch yourself all you wanted, but it was different being with a man. Especially one as sexy as Terry. 

Truth be told, you just didn’t want to fuck it up. 

Your phone buzzed and you swiped it open to your conversation with Terry. 

Terry (Troy’s Dad): Dropped off Troy. Be there in 10.

You: Okay, chilling in my room. Let me know when you’re here.

Liar, liar. You were too nervous to sit, eat, or burp. You were working yourself up so you took a few deep breaths and waited for Terry to arrive. 

Ten minutes sharp, Terry’s truck pulled into the driveway. You shrieked and backed away from the door. A minute later, Terry rang your doorbell and you hopped in place. This was it. You were either about to get fucked or put down like Old Yeller. 

You walked to the front door and opened it. Terry smirked when he saw you. He wore a black polo shirt with the first button loose and black pants. The short sleeves cut into his thick muscles, veins running down his arms and his tattoos on bright display. 

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” you said. 

He jerked his head so you closed and locked the door behind you and followed him over to his porch. Terry opened the door and allowed you to enter first. He turned on lights as he entered behind you and you walked forward, pulling your arms behind your back so he wouldn’t see how nervous you were.

You were an adult. You could handle rejection. Even though you really wanted it to be the opposite. 

“Have a seat. Want water or somethin’?” He asked. 

“Naw, I’m good,” you said. If you ate or drank anything right now, you would hurl. You made a beeline to the couch, somehow the safest spot in the house. Sitting down, you pretended that this was just another day. Right.

There was nothing routine about the way Terry watched you. His eyes didn’t miss a beat as you settled onto the couch. Terry rubbed the back of his head before he came to stand beside you.

Instead of sitting on the couch, Terry scooted in front of you and sat on the coffee table. His legs trapped yours and you stiffened, noticing that you had nowhere to run. No way to escape. He managed to cage you without you even having a clue. 

“First, I wanna apologize,” Terry said. 

You stiffened your shoulders so they wouldn’t drop with disappointment. Ah. That conversation. One you were all too familiar with so you nodded your head and kept your face neutral. You weren’t going to embarrass yourself. Not even for the likes of Terry Richmond.

“You really don’t have to,” you said. Really. You weren’t in the mood to listen to how this was all a mistake, he should’ve known better, he deeply regrets his actions…

“Stop,” Terry said. 

You lifted your eyes to his striking ones and he smirked. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I want to apologize because we should’ve talked first before I attacked you.” 

You took a deep breath. “You don’t know what I’m thinking,” you said, poking your bottom lip out. It was exactly what you were thinking and you resent the fact that you were so easy to read. “And you didn’t attack me.” 

Terry only smirked. Bastard. You wanted to get into a battle of wills to calm your racing heart and your sweaty palms. But he was too mature. And you were too in love. 

Terry leaned down and grabbed your left leg, pulling it into his lap. You gasped as he pulled off your sandal. He pulled up your dress until he exposed your calf and then he started to massage it. 

You hummed and sunk further into his couch, letting his magic fingers weave a spell into your skin. His fingers dug into your muscles and you rolled your eyes back, face scrunched with pleasure. 

“Had I known…shit, I don’t know. I had been drawn to you for a while but didn’t want to overstep,” he said.

You licked your lips and nodded. “I get it. Have you seen yourself in the mirror?” 

Terry chuckled. “Only every day,” he said.

“Never thought I’d be jealous of a mirror,” you said and grinned. 

Terry pressed into your calf and it made you moan. You caught yourself and hid your face. Terry chuckled and stopped. “Don’t hide from me,” he said. 

You sighed and lowered your hands. “You’re impossible to stay cool around,” you said.

He chuckled and went back to massaging your calf. His fingers were so long and big, you watched as he kneaded your leg until you were indistinguishable from jelly. He lowered your leg and then picked up your left leg, removing your sandal, and went to work with his massage. 

“You’re impossible to forget,” he said and flicked his hazel eyes to yours. His fingers continued to turn you into an absolute puddle, your panties growing damp with each dig of his thumbs. “I look forward to seeing you when I’m on my way home. There’s days I wake up and nearly put a hole through my bed because I’m so hard.”

“Shit,” you sighed. How was this your life? How was the sexiest man in the world telling you that he was distracted by you? You, who’d rather lounge in PJ’s all day and snack than eat a proper meal?

“I meant what I said. That you drive me up the wall,” he said. 

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. “Does…my being a virgin bother you? I’d completely understand…” 

“Doesn’t bother me at all,” he cut you off. 

You nodded. Cool. Cool. Everybody’s cool. Except you were ready to jump into the nearest volcano. “I really didn’t mean to snoop in your room. You’ve seen you, but I wanted to know more. I wanted to know more of you. Not just that you’re Troy’s dad,” you said. Your heart thumped in your throat and threatened to clog up your vocal chords. But if you were going to ask this man to knock the sonic coins out of you, then you had to be grown enough to communicate.

Terry nodded. “I get that. Find anything interesting in my room?” He asked. 

You took a deep breath. There was not a chance in hell that you were going to fess up to stealing his shirt. But the way he asked, the way he tilted his head, the permanent smirk on his lush, pink lips… Your guilt made you think he knew but you didn’t know for certain and you didn’t need another reason for him to toss you on your ass. So you shook your head. “Only confirmed my suspicions…that you’re an old ass man.”

Terry erupted into a rare, full belly laugh. His fingers danced on your calf and you giggled with him, loving the way his face transformed from a serious robot to a more open expression. “I’m an old ass man?”

You nodded your head. “Anyone who reads Clive Cussler is an old ass man, sorry. I don’t make the rules,” you said and shrugged your shoulders. 

Terry lowered your leg to the floor. He adjusted himself on the coffee table, widening his stance so that he could grip your knees and spread them. Your lips parted, watching the determined expression on his gorgeous face. 

He drew your dress further up your legs, so reminiscent of yesterday that you wondered if it was a secret turn on for him. He exposed your legs, pooling the dress at the top of your knees. Your sweaty thighs tingled and your breaths grew rapid. You didn’t know where to look. His hands or his eyes. 

“So if I’m an old man, what does that make you?” He asked. He walked his fingers across your thighs, pressing down in random spots. Sometimes he touched a tender knot and it made you moan. He got closer and closer to your pussy and then he flicked his eyes to yours. 

He paused, waiting for his answer. You took a deep breath to release that pent up anticipation. You didn’t know what came next. Only that you would cease to be unless he continued to touch you. Unless he kept going and never stopped. 

“Someone with an old man fetish,” you said. 

Terry chuckled and then continued his slow torture, sliding his hands to the hot core of you. His thumbs traced your pussy lips outside of your panties and you moaned, biting your lip. 

“I’m a gentleman but nothing about these fucking thoughts are holy,” Terry breathed. 

“If I let you off the hook for the night…ahh,” you moaned when Terry pressed into your clit. 

“It’s your first time,” he whispered.

“Pretend it’s not. I won’t break,” you whispered back. 

Terry stood up and grabbed you by the wrists to pull you up with him. He moved lightning fast, so fast you didn’t have a chance to blink before he crushed his lips to yours. You sighed, rolling with it, as his lips moved expertly over yours. Heavenly. 

God. You made your peace with being single and a virgin for a long time. Thought you would be well into your 40s until you gave in and settled. How fucking wrong you were. How could you ever go back to your existence now that you knew the taste of his lips? The feel of his hands caging your face and keeping you close? 

Terry pulled away with one last lick to your bottom lip. He rubbed his nose against yours. “Trust me, okay?” 

You nodded. “I trust you,” you promised. 

Terry pulled you by the hand to follow. Your dress dropped down to your ankles as you walked behind him back to the scene of the crime. You ought to feel some type of way, but for now, you were just turned on. Turned on, nervous as hell, excited. There were too many emotions trying to contain themselves in your body and you weren’t sure what to focus on. Your mind spun with..fuck, just about everything. Too many to name.

You focused on him. Just him. His large hand in yours, the clothes on his back, the broad sweep of his shoulders, and his short haircut. You focused on the long length of his body as he moved and that round, juicy ass you just wanted to take a bite of. If it were an apple, it’d be the one Adam and Eve risked heaven over. 

Terry pulled you into his room and then closed the door, though there was no one else there. Still, it felt more intimate to do so like he was pulling you into his lair and you loved every second of it. 

He stopped in the middle of the room and turned around to face you. “You can say no, okay? If I ever do anything you don’t like,” he said.

You smirked. “I begged you to fuck me yesterday. I think it’s safe to say there’s almost nothing I wouldn’t like,” you said.

“Almost nothing?” He asked. He stepped closer, caging your face with his hands once more. He kissed your forehead and then trailed kisses down your face until his warm lips found yours. You kissed him, licking his bottom lip. He groaned and closed what little distance there was between your bodies, slipping his tongue into your mouth. 

“I’m not telling,” you said and giggled.

“Oh, it’s like that?” He asked. 

You nodded and your lips brushed against his. “Yeah, it’s like that,” you said. 

Terry grinned, showing off his enchanting smile. He turned you and pushed you towards his bed and then helped you out of your dress. He helped take off your bra and panties, teasing you as he revealed your body. 

He gripped and played with your titties and nipples, rolling them between his fingers and pinching here and there. Tingles slipped down your thighs with each swipe of his tongue on your body, teeth on your flesh, and fingers on your skin. He stepped away briefly and then returned with a crimson scarf. You giggled, it looked just like the one you lost a few months ago. 

“On the bed,” Terry commanded, his deep voice making you snap to attention. He kissed the back of your neck. You peeked over your shoulder and smiled, climbing onto the bed achingly slow. 

He slapped your ass to make you move faster and you giggled, scooting to the middle of the bed. You flipped over and Terry kneeled on the bed and waved for you to present your hands. 

“Okay?” He asked.

Was it okay? Was this man serious? You were a virgin but you weren’t crazy. Of course it was fucking okay. This was only your biggest fucking fantasy come to life. Well…maybe top 3. You did have a disturbing fantasy of wanting him to grab you by the neck and give you back shots until you screamed for mercy and he ignored you. Listen, your imagination was all you had, okay?!

“Okay,” you said and nodded. 

He made quick work of tying the scarf around your wrists in a complicated knot. He didn’t leave you much slack between your hands and you tested the knots but it held firm. “Where the hell did you even learn how to do this?” You asked.

“Marine Corps,” he said with a wink. He stepped back from the bed and then gave you a show. He gripped the ends of his shirt and took it off in one fell swoop. His abs moved and stretched, showing off all that hard work he put in the gym. Fuck, he was huge. 

His arms bulged and you grew even more wet just watching his body move. He tossed his shirt on the floor and then tilted his head while his hands went to his belt. His fingers moved quickly and soon, his belt slipped through the loops and you gasped. The things he could do to you with that belt….

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” you said.

Terry’s smirk curved his lips as he unzipped his pants and shoved it and his briefs off of his narrow hips. His dick bobbed as he moved, a veritable one-eyed monster slapping against his inner thigh. His balls hung heavy, huge, swinging as he stepped out of one pant leg and then the other. 

Your mouth dropped open as you stared…and stared. What the hell were you thinking?! Your first time and you had to find the biggest, largest, most humongous dick to take? 

“It’ll fit,” Terry said, not bothering to hide his amusement at your expression. 

“Are you sure? ‘Cause…damn,” you said. 

“Want to back out?” 

“No, no, no, no. I…you have a very big dick, sir,” you said. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it. You knew a lot about anatomy but apparently not enough. This had to be like those BBC porno videos you sometimes took a gander at. It always seemed like the men were going to break their partners in half. Other times, the women took all that big dick and you were always left wondering how in the world. 

You were about to find out. 

Terry chuckled and then kneeled onto the bed, climbing on until he was able to plant himself between your legs. He hummed and tilted his head, assessing the wet state of you, as he looked between your pussy and your face.

This was the closest you ever allowed a man and you expected to tense up. Shut down. Close off. But you just wanted more. You wanted him. 

“If I do my job correctly, you won’t worry about that,” he said.

You took a deep breath as a fresh wave of desire passed over your skin. Fuck. He was killing you. And he hadn’t even done anything yet. “Big words,” you said, unable to resist.

Terry leaned onto his elbows and then got comfortable. You watched every inch of his body move into position. Since he was on his stomach, you got to see the expanse of his back and the curve of his ass. He lifted one leg on the bed and let his other leg stretch out behind him. 

Fuck. 

Terry gripped your thighs and pushed them further apart. You cried out, but Terry only pushed more until you were fully bare. You did clean up your pubic hair, but still…uneasiness creeped in. Did you…smell right for him? Should you have cleaned up more? 

Terry’s thumbs pushed into your inner thighs as he brought his face closer to your pussy. He took a deep breath and then sighed with a deep moan. His eyes were trained on yours as he opened his mouth and let his tongue prove you wrong.

The rush of warmth from his breath dueled with your cooling essence and you jerked as his tongue pushed through your pussy lips. His tongue searched for your clit and when he found it, he teased the little nub out from hiding.

“Oh…fuck…” you moaned. No wonder women wanted that. Fuck. You weren’t going to be able to live without it. You’d dream about this. Wake up in a cold sweat, body aching to be ate out just like this. 

Terry’s perfect hazel eyes finally closed as he moaned and feasted you with abandon. He ate sloppily, messily, the slurp and suckling near echoing in the room. Your body tingled and jerked as licked and licked. 

“Shit, shit, oh fuck,” you said. You couldn’t stop talking. Couldn’t stop moaning. You see now why he had to tie your hands because you were ready to push his damn head away. He was too good at this. Not that you really had anything to compare it too, but fuck, you would never allow some mediocre man between your legs. 

It had to be Terry. It had to always be Terry. He moaned and his shoulders dipped. The bed jerked and you looked down to see him practically grinding into the bed. 

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you said.

Terry moaned. “Taste so fuckin’ good,” he said between your legs. He flattened his tongue against your pussy and dragged it from entrance to clit and back again. You closed your eyes and rolled your hips. 

Terry’s hands on your thighs increased pressure, holding you still, while he devoured your pussy. Pools of your desire leaked from your needy hole and your fingers dug into the scarf. Your finger caught on something but you were too far gone to pay attention.

Not when his mouth was glued to your pussy. Not while his tongue flicked against your clit. Your pussy throbbed in time with your heartbeat as he used that masterful tongue to bring you closer and closer to the edge. 

Your belly flipped and your moans turned to pathetic stutters as he locked in, finding a rhythm that had you ready to sing church hymns. “Terry, fuck, Terry, please,” you begged. He had to slow down. He had to ease up. 

Terry didn’t say a word. He just growled and kept going, massaging his thumbs into your thighs. He leaned back to slurp and swallow and then he latched right back on. 

“Fuck!” You moaned. You threw your head back and came on his tongue, thighs shaking. This was infinitely more powerful than anything you managed to achieve on your own. It was like the clouds breaking apart and seeing heaven for a brief moment. Enough to kiss the pearly gates before you were snatched back by Terry continuing to lick you while you came back down.

Your legs were weak and spent as he slowed his licks. Your fingers tore at the scarf even though there was no way to escape. No way to run. Terry moaned one last time before finally letting go of your poor, abused clit. It throbbed as if it missed him just that fast. 

A spit chain still connected his mouth to your pussy and you watched as he licked his glistening lips. He used the back of his hand to wipe the rest of it away, plus whatever spilled to his chin. Your head flopped back onto the bed. “Fuck.”

Terry chuckled. “No more shit to talk?” He asked, out of breath. 

Your fingers still played with the scarf as you looked towards the ceiling. Part of his headboard was in view but hell, your mind was still back in heaven. And he wanted you to answer? Well, you weren’t one to back down. So you took a few shuddering breaths. 

“I can’t even try right now, to be honest,” you said. You had a laundry list of shit you could talk about to diffuse the situation. Jokes you could pull from your back pocket. But you were too damn spent. 

Terry got off of the bed and then circled around to his nightstand. He withdrew a fresh box of condoms and you dazedly watched him. He cast his eyes towards you. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy,” he murmured. 

You giggled. “I mean, I’m still jealous of your mirror,” you said.

Terry chuckled while he grabbed a condom and went to work opening the package. You lazily fiddled with the scarf, not wanting him to see how nervous you were. Part of him was right though. He ate you out so well, you weren’t even scared of that monster tapping against his thigh. 

Terry climbed back on the bed once he had the condom fully on his erect dick. You watched him as your finger caught on something jagged and hard. You brought the scarf to look at and noticed the same burn pattern that had been on your scarf. The same scarf you lost…

Terry climbed further onto the bed, grabbing your legs to pull you into position. He placed your legs around his hips and then lined himself up, getting the condom wet with your juices.

“Terry…” you said, looking between the scarf, his hands, and that dick.

“Hm?” He asked. 

“Is this my scarf?” You asked.

Terry cocked his head and a smirk slowly spread across his lips. “You left it once and I couldn’t find it in me to give it back. I figured it was only fair. I know you took my shirt,” he said.

“Wha-”

Terry pushed in just as you were about to ask your question. He managed to slip in way further than you were expecting and your belly caved in, trying to get used to him. To his size. To the delicious, burning stretch. Like yes, it fucking hurt. But not as much as you thought it would. 

You moved your hands against his chest, pushing at him, but he held still, no longer moving. “You have to breathe,” he said. 

You forgot how to breathe. Your lungs no longer worked. There was a dick inside you. Terry’s dick was inside you. And fuck…you lied earlier. This was heaven. It was a little hotter than you imagined, but you could forgive the temperature as long as he stayed inside you like this. 

Terry called your name and leaned down until his stormy oceanic eyes swam into view. “Breathe. I’m not gon’ tell you again.”

You nodded and took a shallow breath. You took a few more until you were able to take a full one and then another. Your thighs shook around his hips. 

“Talk to me,” he commanded. 

“I’m okay. I’m okay. Keep going. Please, fucking move,” you said. 

Terry leaned down into a push up and pressed his lips to yours. He withdrew and then pushed slowly back into you, working his way inside. Fuck. He was right, he did fit. But only just. 

His kisses were nice distractions from the slight burn and pain, but it was more because you were still tense and less because he was doing anything wrong. He just felt too damn good. 

“Fuck,” Terry moaned, breaking away from kissing you. He dropped his sweaty forehead to your shoulder as he worked himself in further, deeper, stretching you to the point of no return. 

You shivered as you moaned. There was no way you could walk away from this. No way you could return to normal. Not after he slapped those heavy balls against your ass and buried deep down to the hilt. It was like every stroke claimed a piece of your soul. Every moan tied your body to his. 

“T-Terry,” you said, a bite of panic reaching your own ears. It seemed way too intense. You wanted to ask if it was normal. You weren’t going to be that girl. Like you were going to obsess over him simply because he was your first. You knew you would never forget this. But with the way you were feeling…

“This pussy is mine,” Terry growled and then he bit your shoulder. 

You cried out and jerked, tears springing to your eyes as he was able to move more freely. Slip more easily. Leave your entrance completely, leave you feeling downright empty, and then he’d slam right back into the hilt. 

Tears spilled down the sides of your face, right down to the bed beneath your head. You moaned as your pussy throbbed on his dick.

“Don’t stop,” he begged, increasing his strokes. 

You throbbed again and again and listened as Terry’s moans turned wild, haphazard, and his strokes grew less precise. 

“Mine. Mine,” he chanted, low under his breath and some type of demon seemed to take hold. He slammed his hips into yours. You wanted to touch him. Claw at him. The only thing you could do was grip his hips with your thighs and welcome him in. Accept him in a place no one had been allowed in before. 

“Tell me it’s mine,” he said. He leaned up and kissed you sloppily, teeth clashing against each other as he stroked deep. He moved his lips to your jaw, to your neck, and then to the top of your chest.

Your belly flipped as if he were literally pulling the orgasm from whatever deep well he managed to find. Your moans increased, high pitched, and near screaming. 

“It’s yours,” you breathed. “Fuck, it’s all yours. It’s only yours. It’s fucking yours!” You screamed as you fell apart on his dick. 

You cried and whimpered, body shaking from another powerful orgasm. Like it was the final seal tying you two together. Surely, that wasn’t normal? 

Fuck normal. You were all his. “Mine,” you whispered. 

Terry cupped your cheek and pressed his forehead to yours. “Yours,” he said and then groaned, stroking a few more times before he cursed as he came. His dick throbbed and you felt the warm heat of him inside but the condom still separated you two.

You wondered what it would be like to be fully claimed. To have no barrier between you. Nothing to keep you apart as he bathed your insides with his hot, thick cum. You wanted it where it belonged. Buried deep inside you. Pregnancy be damned. You wanted it all. 

Terry groaned as he finished and he huffed, leaning his weight off of you so he didn’t crush you to pieces. 

You were both sweaty, gross messes. You looked at Terry and he smiled at you. “Okay?” He asked.

“I mean, I’m probably not going to walk for the next week…or two. But yes, I’m okay,” you said. 

He chuckled. He slowly withdrew from you and you groaned, instantly feeling sore and empty as he left you. Now you knew why you always waited. Because fuck. If it wasn’t like that you would have never been satisfied. Never knew how intense it could be. 

“And I meant that shit too,” Terry said, climbing off of the bed to dispose of the condom. “You’re mine. I can’t explain it. But if that scares you…”

“It doesn’t,” you rushed to say. It was intense and scary in a way you hadn’t prepared for, but he didn’t scare you. Belonging to him didn’t scare you. It was perhaps why every interaction felt so charged with him. There was a pressure being around him this past year, like an overfilled cup that could spill over at any moment. 

“You’re mine.”

Terry grinned and left the room, returning with a warm washcloth. “Oh!” You gasped as the warm cloth soothed some of the ache between your legs.

“C’mon. We’ll take a bath. It’ll help,” he said. He untied your scarf from your hands and rubbed circulation back into it. It still tripped you out that he kept it. 

He helped you to the bath and he ran the water while you talked about nothing really. Just this feeling now that the bubble popped. As if the universe itself had been trying to push you two together and you finally listened. 

As you took the bath with him, you discussed how you would keep it quiet for now. Let Terry divorce his wife, let Troy get used to the idea of you two dating, let you get your degree. 

It was all very adult. All very mature. But with his thickening dick swelling against your ass, you were anything but mature as you enjoyed each other over and over again. After all, you belonged to each other now. Time was no longer a factor to you. 

The end.

WHEW. I'll see myself out. The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 1

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