#feel free to dig through their tags
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
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hi Gina, sorry if you’ve answered this before but I was just wondering if there is anything that happened recently that makes you think they’re still together, or if you’re leaning more towards thinking they broke up.
Hi, sweetheart. I think the umbro shirt might have been the last thing that made me scratch my head.
And Louis’ outro songs were really interesting much of the year.
Louis including the 2015 Larry hug in the WAOYF music video was wild.
But, to be quite honest, I’ve said many times that these days I really can’t parse what we’re meant to see because they want us to know, and what they both do in order to keep all sides of the fandom invested.
As I’ve said before, there are days I feel more sure that they’re together, and days where I feel less so. I think I’ve just reached a point where I think it’s not helpful to either Harry or Louis to have fans having a laser focus on their private lives. Years ago I felt very sure that they needed to know they had the support and they wanted people to know—about who they are and about their relationship. I just don’t know that that’s still the case.
My feelings go back and forth. I hope they’re still together. I hate the idea that they fought for so long and couldn’t make it. But, at the end of the day, all I really care about is that they’re happy��whatever that looks like for them.
#They’re still together#That’s my tag for relationship stuff#2023 Larry moments#that’s my tag for stuff that seemed Larry-related last year#Some of it seems like a stretch to me#But feel free to dig through it all
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𝑇𝑅𝐴𝐼𝑇𝑆 & 𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑅𝐴𝐶𝑇𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑆𝑇𝐼𝐶𝑆
repost & tag away!
BOLD all that applies to your muse. italicized - applicable in some way.
eyes : blue | green | brown | hazel | gray | gray-blue | red | golden | other
hair : blond | sandy | brown | black | auburn | ginger | grey | white | other | none
body type : skinny | slender | slim | built | curvy | athletic | average | muscular | pudgy | overweight | underweight
skin : pale | light | fair | freckled | tan | olive | medium | dark | discolored | other
gender : male | female | trans | cis | agender | demigender | genderfluid | other
sexuality : heterosexual | homosexual | bisexual | pansexual | asexual | demisexual | other | unsure
romantic orientation : homoromantic | heteroromantic | biromantic | panromantic | aromantic | demiromantic | unsure
species : human | undead | shapeshifter | demon | angel | witch | ghost | incubus / succubus | werewolf | alien | mutant | android | deity | dragon | other
education : high school | college | university | master’s degree | PhD | other | none
i’ve been : in love | hurt | ill | mentally abused | bullied | physically abused | tortured | brainwashed | shot | stabbed
living situation : lives alone | lives with parent(s) / guardian | lives with significant other | lives with a friend | drifter | homeless | lives with children | other
parents/guardian : mother | father (deceased) | adoptive | aunt | uncle | foster | grandmother (deceased) | grandfather (deceased) | other | none
sibling(s) : sister | brother(s) | none | other
relationship : single | crushing | dating | engaged | married | separated | it’s complicated | verse dependent
has a(n) : developmental disorder | learning disorder | personality disorder | mental disorder | anxiety disorder | sleep disorder | eating disorder | behavioral disorder | substance-related disorder | PTSD | mental disability | physical disability | other | none
things done before : had alcohol | smoked | stolen | done drugs | self-harmed | starved | had sex | had a threesome | had a one-night stand | gotten into a fist fight | gone to infirmary | gone to jail | used a fake ID | played hooky | gone to a rave | killed someone | had someone try to kill them
Tagged byStolen from: An old blog! Tagging: Whoever would like to do it??
#🃏 || dashboard games#🃏 || memes#🃏 || headcanons#self harm tw#self harm cw#Just adding those tags real quick#But here's a pretty nice list about Martha's characteristics!#She may be 55 years old but she can be quick and vicious when she wants to be#Doesn't always remember to eat but doesn't care#Doesn't matter when you can slice and dice up a bozo like a whirlwind!#Feel free to do this too if you guys want to!#Just digging through some old stuff while trying to find memes and starters!
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me when I remember people can perceive my blog and I haven’t updated or posted this blog as much so it doesn’t match my new and improved super cool funny hot awesome talented personality
#thoughts#my post#im supposed to be studying right now i literally have an exam tomorrow but i was slapped across the face with such a strong realisation of#”oops tags can only be 140 characters😊😊” TUMBLR I WILL FIND YOU.#anyways. Had such a strong realisation of this that I couldn’t just not post about it#going back to this lowkey feels embarrassing ITS FINE. I’m cringe but I’m free.#There’s more I want to say I can just address that in another post or something I don’t want this to be convoluted or force my followers to#dig through my blog to find important stuff#anyways#sorry babes my tags are so thick and fat and voluptuous this time
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Does anyone have any fuuta fic recs 👀
#milgram#fuuta kajiyama#i crave content of my booooy#feel free to plug your own work or anything!!#usually i like finding things myself but last time i checked his tag on ao3 it was... interesting#theres nothing wrong with smut but its just not my cup of tea#and i dont feel like digging through so much of it asdfvvhh#whenever he makes appearances in other character/full cast fics hes usually watered down to 'the mean one' ;__;#i am. so sleepy today. i wanted to treat myself with fuuta content when my tasks are done#so we'll see#rose rambles
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not to continue to post ooc and be annoying buuuut what if this were an inbox call ——.
#★ * OOC / brainrot for a sushi restaurant. )#yall know the drill ! like and I'll toss gregory in your inbox#may be him being a menace of his own accord may be me digging through your meme tag#I am simply so full of thoughts and no energy so :))#( multis feel free to specify muses as well otherwise I'll just toss something vague and allow ya'll to decide !! )#I am so very much getting my second wind I slept for like twelve hours today
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Just a heads-up that the queue might run out in the next day or two!! I haven't been finding much to put in there and I've been doing a lot of sleeping lately, so it's been falling behind. I need to go through my following list and clear out inactive pages and try to get things going again. If you have any blog or tag recommendations, I'm all ears!!
#also if you have any art you wanna share feel free to send it my way so i can put it in the queue!!!#i cant believe i used to plow through 50 posts per day and still hit queue limit... middle school me was built different#i dont think queue limit is even a thing anymore or at least its more than 300 posts i think??#i havent hit it in ages#but yeah if you got blog or tag recs i would love to hear them!!#i was thinking of digging up my old 'interact with this post if you want me to draw your icon' post too.#that post was so much fun. shoutout to that one person with a guy fieri icon. you intimidated and inspired me.#idk if theyre still around. if you are reading this i want you to know that you are on the top of the list for whenever i revive that post.#its so wild to think that some of yall have been here this entire time. like you have watched me grow up online. thats so much.#ANYWAYS. queue is empty. my phone is dying. i love you. i have laundry to do#batty blogging#text
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hi! i think i’ve finally made it through your entire cherik tag after having the tab open for months and i just wanted to thank you for your presence in the fandom on tumblr. since first joining the fandom in january of this year, your blog has been such a lovely time capsule and archive for me to explore. i absolutely adore your writing (cherik and otherwise) as well, but i just wanted to express appreciation for years of diligent tagging and finding the best cherik content!
Oh wow Anon what an amazing message to get thank you!!! I hope the content on my little blog gave you as much pleasure as it's given me over the years; I can't believe it's been ten years!!! It's actually so great to know that you were able to go back and find things to enjoy from way back...there's been so much wonderful fic and art and gifsets and meta circulated by the fandom that it would be a waste to have it all forgotten. :D :D :D
#gerec rambles#please feel free to dig deep folks#i do it too sometimes#just go through my favorite tags and luxuriate in it lol
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Lmfao, you didn't have an argument against the other part of my tags (that women did all of the "men's" jobs during WWII and were forced to leave them when the war ended), so you're quoting only part of it and still not saying anything intelligent.
Anywho, here's an excerpt from an article with sources for each of the claims:
Women Face Increased Harassment and Discrimination Working in Male-Dominated Workplaces
Male-dominated industries and occupations may reinforce harmful stereotypes and creating unfavorable environments that make it even more difficult for women to excel.
Across the globe, women working in male-dominated industries are more likely to experience sexual harassment than those working in other industries.
In 2020, nearly half (47%) of Canadian women working in trades, transportation, equipment operation, and related occupations reported experiences of inappropriate sexual behavior at work.
In the US, the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission receives more reports of sexual harassment from women working in male-dominated industries like construction, utilities, mining, and transportation and warehousing.
Women of color, particularly Black women, are least likely to report having support from their managers, which can contribute to a lack of leadership opportunities.
Women working in male-dominated industries face a variety of challenges in addition to sexual harassment, including:
Societal expectations and beliefs that question women’s leadership and managerial abilities.
Pervasive stereotypes leading women to take on necessary but rarely rewarded “office housework”.
High levels of stress, anxiety, depression, lowered self-esteem, and self-handicapping behaviors stemming from feelings of “imposter syndrome”.
Lack of mentoring and career development opportunities.
Since women are the predominant caregivers in families, they are looked at unfavorably when they need to take time off in industries commonly lacking paid sick leave, like construction.
Women use various mechanisms to cope with working in male-dominated work environments, such as:
Overworking to “prove themselves” which may eventually lead to early burn out.
Giving into pressure to act like “one of the boys,” exacerbating the problem by contributing to the normalization of a “locker room” culture.
Leaving the industry.
Women sexually harassed at work are 6.5 times as likely to change jobs, often to one with lower pay.
#tw conservatives#c'mon man#if you're gonna go through the effort to quote my tags you should probably at least make an actual point#full disclosure that i didn't vet every source in the article i quoted#because that is too much effort for a tumblr comment#but if you care feel free to dig yourself#q
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@slaughterlocked asked: sender prevents an injured receiver from getting up. — werewolf verse ?! // 100 nonverbal prompts
THE LAST THING MICHAEL REMEMBERS is stumbling his way back. Or... trying to: the excruciating steps against bursts of intense pain, his own blood coating his clothes and fingertips in an attempt to slow the blood loss, black dots pulling at his vision and the disorientation causing his hands to keep slipping until his legs gave way. He lost consciousness only moments after his body hit the sidewalk, though he must have made it far enough: he could see his father in the corner of his eye just before the dizziness overtook him.
It has been a long time since his father's presence was a comforting one.
Any of the relief that flooded through him then is gone when he opens his eyes. He's laying down, inside, though his vision is still too blurry to tell if it's his room, the living room, somewhere else... a question quickly pushed from his mind as the pain sets in. Even still, there is an undeniable pressure against his chest, constricting his lungs and giving every breath weight. Confused, Michael attempts to prop himself up on his elbows, the sudden movement sending RIPPLES of pain through his head and body. He glances down at himself, spots the bandages peeking out from underneath the fresh shirt.
The bandages... on his right shoulder, torso, leg... Michael's breathing quickens as the dots suddenly connect, the night's terror rushing back to him. It wasn't the first he had wandered alone at night, but venturing through the wooded area further away was a sort of retaliation. The wolf ( ... creature? ) that attacked him was unlike any animal Michael had ever seen in the area ( or ever ), though he was too busy running, kicking, and screaming as its teeth ripped through his flesh to get a good luck at it. The gashes from its claws are deep, but the shoulder wound is by far the worst— just to the side of his neck ( a bite ), it wouldn't stop spilling blood. Michael is certain a few more seconds would have left him dead, but it just... ran away.
Agonizing as it is, the panic causes Michael to frantically force himself up. He immediately groans, the noise weak and grating. His pulse skyrockets, too disoriented to notice his surroundings until his father is directly beside him, his hands a steady guide preventing him from standing. Michael doesn't have the energy to jerk away. In fact, he reaches out to grip his father's arm tight, as if begging for him to stay there.
"What... what... hah—" Groggy. Clearly confused ( symptom of severe blood loss ). There isn't even a point to asking, he's the one with the story. Still, it's the only thing he can force out. "What... happened?" His breathing is still fast, each rise and fall of his chest a monumental task. "I was... after I left... I don't know what...— dad?" It slips out, the vulnerability that comes with such an intense brush with death. The disgust in himself will creep in later; for now, it's all he can do to not fall unconscious again. "...Sorry. I'm sorry."
#sets this down. have a freshly turned werewolf boy :)#if only because it's much harder to injure him later but also AUUGGU HG HH//....IM INSANE#severe injuries that will end up healing way faster than any normal person should once the symptoms kick in#⁂ ・゚: and through it all the rise and fall the bodies in the streets ➛ in character#slaughterlocked#⁂ ・゚: digging in my claws to make you hate me too ➛ werewolf#⁂ ・゚: i feel more free than i have in years‚ six feet in the ground ➛ answered#injury tw#blood tw#ask to tag#⁂ ・゚: do you ever think of me and my two hands and wonder why? ➛ queue
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i'm bored talk to me
#ask box open feel free to also go through my 'ask game' or 'ask meme' tag to dig up any ask meme questions#there's only 2 ask prompt compilations actually. but they have more than enough questions!#ramblings!
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ahh i need husband doctor!rafe fucking me so hard after stressful shift at the hospital. i wanna make him feel better :(
pairing: doctor!rafe x reader
warnings: fingering, daddy kink, piv sex, unprotected sex, a bit of praising, 18+ mdni
you hummed to the music playing in the background as you cooked, jumping when you felt a pair of arms around your waist. "shh, relax, it’s just me,” your husband whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the shell of your ear. “how was work?” you gasped as his lips trailed down your neck, sucking at your sensitive skin before biting into the flesh, pulling you flush against him, his hard cock pressing against your ass through his scrubs.
“long and stressful,” he grumbled, his hands lifted at the hem of your oversized shirt, pushing it to bunch over your tits, “no panties? you just couldn’t wait till daddy got home, huh?”. your nipples pebbled from the cool air, your back arching into his chest when his large, warm palms cup and knead your tits.
“wanna talk about it?” you squeak when he pinches your nipples, his free hand moving between your legs. rafe’s thumb finds your clit, rubbing tight circles against the sensitive bud before plunging two of his thick fingers into you. you grind your cunt against the heel of his hand, his fingers pumping in and out of your slick hole.
you whine when he abruptly stops, pulling his hand away, earning a chuckle from him. he pushes you down, your stomach digging into the marble counter as he bends you over. your ears perk at the sound of rafe’s scrub pants rustling as he pulls them down, letting them pool mid-thigh, “why talk about it when i can take it out on your sweet cunt?”.
he rolled his tongue, gathering saliva in his mouth before letting a glob of spit land on his cock. rafe wrapped his hand around his shaft, spreading his spit to coat his cock as he stroked himself. he nudged your thighs, pushing them further apart, slapping the thick head of his dick against your folds as he settled himself between your thighs.
his tip nudged at your sopping hole, pulling a squeal from your plump lips when he shoved his big, thick length into you. your hands slapped onto the marble, and your knuckles turned white from harshly gripping the edge of the counter. he pounded into you relentlessly, his hips snapping into yours, watching the fatty flesh of your ass bounce with each thrust.
your hand reaches behind you in an attempt to push him away, and he yanks your wrists behind your back, pinning them down with one hand and pushing your face onto the counter while his other hand snakes between the two of you to rub your clit, “c’mon, baby, don’t push me away, i know you can take it”.
the sounds of his hips smacking against yours fill the kitchen. he pushes his weight onto your back, caging you in between the counter and his chest. the cold marble does very little to cool your flushed face and you choke out a moan, eyes rolling back from the way he was brutally thrusting into you. “good fuckin’ girl,” he grunts, your pussy clenches around him, voice becoming hoarse from crying out his name as you cream all over his cock.
“daddy’s not done with you, i’ve got all night”.
tagging a few moots: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @cameronsprincess @nemesyaaa @drewstarkeys-world @justafangirls-blog @bunnyrafe @starkeyisthelastname @sturnioloshacker @shawtycoreee @drewsarms @heartsforvin @userchai
#𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀𝓈 ༉‧₊˚.#doctor!rafe#rafe prompt ;༊#doctor!rafe x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron smut#rafe smut#rafe cameron prompt
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plug!chris catching you riding his pillow ᡣ𐭩
coming to your place after a long day of dealing was a natural thing for chris to do. so when he and some of his friends that tagged along with him had no more clients left, they suggested an evening at some fancy restaurant to spend their money. chris, of course, quickly waved them off because he wanted to spend his time with his pretty little girlfriend after being so busy the past few days.
so imagine the surprise he felt as soon as he heard the most lewd noises coming from your bedroom . . noises that he’d recognise anywhere.
he feels like a perv, but that’s the least of his worries.
chris peeks through the small gap between the doorway and your conveniently opened door; it’s just enough for him to see just how perfect you look. the pillow, the one he usually sleeps on, between your thighs, a wet spot visible on its pillowcase, your tits free from any restraint, with your finger cradling them gently, and your face . . . fuck, your face.
your have the most vulgar expression imaginable. god, you’re better than any wet dream he ever had. your face is tilted to the side, eyes closed with pleading brows pinched upwards. your cheeks were dusted with the prettiest shade of red. his fresh love hoodie is bunched up and being held up by your teeth to expose your pretty tits bouncing every grind of your hips you take, and you’re letting out the cutest little muffled whines and moans.
it’s no surprise that your boyfriend gets hard instantly, hands flying to his crotch with no hesitation as he unzips his pants, sliding down just enough to take his cock out. his bony fingers wrap around his leaky cock and hisses lowly. his eyes were solely trained on printing the beautiful image right into the depths of his mind.
a pitiful pout grows on his lips. he can tell that you’ve been going at it for a while now from how much you’re panting and how you lean forward on your hands every other minute because of the annoying, yet delicious burn in your fleshy thighs, and chris wishes he could be under you instead of that damned pillow, holding you down because he knows how much you squirm on his dick and pistoning his hips into you just right.
there’s no doubt in his mind that he’s definitely not going to do that, but chris wants to savor the thrill of this a little bit too . . . wants to watch you pleasure yourself without him.
you roll your hips so expertly that chris feels even more jealous of that inanimate object, imaging your slick stained on the pillow glistening on his dick instead. the hurried movements, how you know when to push down further and how to keep the steady rhythm, how your face twists in exquisite pleasure with no care for the world—your boyfriend can barely stop himself from cumming right then and there.
chris strokes himself to match the roll of your hips, teeth digging in his bottom lip helplessly as he feels himself getting closer, just like you do. your hips get more erratic, humping the pillow faster and faster while your muffled whines get louder and longer. chris grips the doorway with his free hand to not go through it and disturb you, completely head over heels from how fascinating you look.
the only thing he’s late to realise is that you’re not even watching anything lewd to help you reach your high, and that becomes clear when you start crying out his name in a high-pitched tone that makes him go weak in the knees.
he thrusts into his own fist uncontrollably, but reluctantly gains the ability to stop himself only after seeing your heavenly closed eyes open, the fucked out look taking over your face as he grips his shaft tighter to not cum in the hallway right then and there.
you cum with a strangled cry of his name, gripping the sheets with shaky hands to ground yourself.
you came thinking about him. that alone makes chris wonder if he should kick his feet up high and giggle like a schoolgirl or burst into the room and fuck your sensitive pussy ‘til your cum completely coats his cock. he chooses the latter.
you pant heavily, little moans slipping past your lips as you lazily rock your hips against the pillow. chris doesn’t let you bask in the post-orgasm haze, however, because he’s barging into your room unceremoniously. with zipped pants of course!
squealing in surprise, you yank your blanket over your body, nervously looking at him with big, startled eyes while he casually strolls over to your bed, hands hidden in the pockets of his jeans and keen eyes focused only on you.
“chris. . i-i can explain!” you try to reason, but when your boyfriend simply smirks at you, you know you should stop talking.
“explain riding my pillow?” he’s only teasing, but it still makes you stutter and stumble over your words. you pout for moment, pulling your hoodie over your body before curling further into your blanket in sheer embarrassment. there’s an apology spilling out of your lips, but chris tuts at you condescendingly as he grips onto the blanket and pulls it away from you.
“fuck you lookin’ at? i want you to do it again.” there’s a smirk rising on his lips as he watches your eyes widen and your lips part to protest.
“but!—“
“nah, you wanna be a slut and ride my pillow. all i’m asking is for you to do it again, a’ight? then maybe, i’ll fuck you if you’re good.”
#raestromboli ᡣ𐭩#chris sturiolo fanfic#chris sturniolo drabble#chris sturniolo headcanon#chris sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo drabble#matt sturniolo headcanon#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt stuniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolos#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#sturniolotriplets
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being dilf!logan’ babysitter.
cws/tags: smut, mdni! dilf!logan. single dad!logan. unspecified age gap. babysitter!reader. unprotected p in v. fem!reader.
Logan threw the key into his heart years ago. He doesn’t even remember the last time he felt some romantic feelings for someone.
Then you come up—and his stomach starts to flutter in a weird way that he can’t even comprehend. He thought he was too fuckin’ old to yearn for someone like you, someone so young and oblivious.
So clueless that in fact, you barely notice the schedule mix-ups.
Not the mix-ups where you’re too busy to babysit, or when Logan doesn’t need babysitting for a while and he forgot to tell you.
No. It’s the mix-ups that are intentional.
You’re scheduled to babysit—but when you arrive, there is no Laura. She’s out of the house or having an extra lesson for hours. Or when she has a cold and your job is just to check up on her and sit in the living room most of the time.
Hence Logan understands why you paid no mind to it, since you are getting paid no matter what; alongside the added extra tip. Which satisfies you.
But it does not surpass the satisfaction you feel the first time you are left alone with Logan.
The day right after Logan wrecked your cunt, there was radio silence. Everything was back to how it was before—as if he didn’t whisper those words to you, “Pussy tastes so fuckin’ sweet.” and “Such’a pretty girl, y’know that?” and “Ya’ sure y’want an old man like me, sweets?” His reserved persona leaves you feeling immature and unprofessional— not knowing what he truly feels.
Until came the time when Laura was out at a friend’s house for the day, and Logan told you to come over for lunch since he’s free for a few hours, and suddenly you two have the house to yourself.
Suddenly Logan has you laid on his bed—on the sheets you picked out for him—his cock pounding you in a delicious stretch.
You can only speak in high-pitched whines and dig your nails into his back that you know will leave a mark, but he doesn’t care, his face depicts a concentration that shows his old wrinkles—that shows his utter self-control and desperation.
“Takin’ such a good care of us. Of me.” He’d say while his large girth was still filling you up to the brim. It only took you minutes before you arched your back on the bed to meet his thrusts. Electricity sparks through you and your mouth opens in a voiceless cry as you come on your boss’ dick for the second time.
“Tha’s it. Take what ya’ need, sweet girl.”
And surely not the last time.
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine smut#old man logan x reader#old man logan#logan by nina <3
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✨Guiding Light✨
Marcus Acacius x fem! reader
A/N: I was immediately inspired to write this after I saw the pictures drop Monday, and I conjured this up in one night. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem and @joelmillerisapunk for beta reading 🩷
Summary: You watch Marcus avenge himself week after week in the pit of the arena, but how much longer will it take to make you snap? How much longer can you go on watching when he’s the only man you want?
Word Count: 6.2k
Rating: Explicit 18+ only MDNI
Tags: Yearning, a little angst, soft dom! Marcus, feelings, confessions, jealousy, unprotected piv, oral (male/female receiving), fluff, reader’s nickname is Starlight
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
The arena is drenched in dark crimson colors as the clash of silver armor and jagged swords collide in unison. The audience is obnoxiously loud as their rowdy shouts and chants fill your ringing ears.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
You can basically feel your heart trying to break free of your insides that pound uncontrollably as you watch Marcus take out another large fighter from his right with only one jab of his shiny sword that catches sunlight and reflects in your wide eyes.
Come on, Marcus. Win, stay alive!
You swallow back a trembling whine as you sit on the edge of your seat, fingernails digging into the tough stone as you watch the man you yearn for take another blow to the back. You gasp as you watch Marcus flip the fighter over and finish him off with one slice of his silver sword, barely any sign of pain or fear in his vision that’s focused on taking out every single enemy that stands in his way of freedom.
You sigh out in relief, fear flooding your veins as your eyes stay glued to every careful move he makes in the arena of death.
He stands in the middle of the expansive, gruesome arena, dodging left and right, taking out man after man, completely pulverizing anything and anyone that gets in his way. He’s the best in the game, the most experienced fighter, the champion that never falters, never loses. So why are you a complete mess when he’s in that pit of death?
You’re not lovers, not exactly. You’re his plaything, the woman he calls to his bedchamber after every battle, every night that suits his needs. He doesn’t care if you’re asleep, doesn’t care if you’re in the middle of other pressing matters, doesn’t give a fuck because you’re his property that he can do whatever he wants with. And you have to admit you find that sort of… hot. You’ll do anything for that man. He can use you all he wants, as long as that means you have him.
Your pulse thrums in your neck as you watch him completely dominate the arena. The blazing sun rains down on his broad body, leaving him in damp, silver armor, sweat glistening down his tanned skin, greying curls sticking to his forehead, dirt covering every inch of his muscular arms, his sculpted legs, his large hands.
You so badly wish you could be every speck of that dirt right now so you could lick up and down every inch of him until you were completely consumed in him, until you could see nothing but him for all eternity, until he melded his own skin with yours as you fused into one.
When the crowd chants and the last man falls to his death, the only man left standing is him, General Acacius, the man you’re completely wrapped up in. You have to pull yourself back together as your core burns hot, slick collecting just thinking of what he’ll do to you later tonight. You know he’ll take you, hard.
His golden flecked chocolate eyes find yours in the crowd in a heartbeat, a celebratory smirk curling against his plush mouth as darkness and trouble swirl through those beautiful eyes. You know what that means. He’s won you, and he wants you, now.
When your eyes leave his, you see the emperor’s daughter, Mina, looking over his broad body with those bright blue eyes, her ashy blonde hair flowing down her back, and she’s nearly drooling over his victory, thinking that she can get him with her daddy’s command.
You flare hot with jealousy at the thought of Marcus and Mina tangling together, their skin caressing over each other’s in his large bed draped with gold sheets that swallow their bodies whole till they’re nothing but shadows dancing in the midst of the night.
You see it now. The long walks they take in the gardens, the secret slurs in each other’s ears over dinners with the entire court, an arranged marriage as he fights for her love each time he’s in the arena.
It’s only in your head, only a sick mirage your jealous mind has conjured up. He barely glances her way half the time, his heated gaze only locked on you each time you’re in the same vicinity. It’s stupid really, the hate you feel for her because you could never measure up to a rich, beautiful goddess like herself. You don’t come from royalty, barely have a cent to your name, and that is why he could never love you, you think.
Mina has it all, and you’re just… you.
You swallow the lump in your throat as the audience still shouts and whistles from every direction as Marcus is called out and awarded as the winner of today’s events. You want to stay, but you get up quietly and leave, knowing he’ll want you waiting in his chambers when he’s finished.
He’s safe. That’s all that matters.
You quickly leave behind the bellowing noise of the arena, trading it for a quiet walk through the rose garden, past the trickles of clear blue fountains, entering into a quiet overlay of towering architecture that’s trimmed in carved stone and marble pathways. A place you could never even dream of setting foot in on a regular basis. You’re just a commoner, not royalty, not wealthy, not anything but his to take. And that will have to be enough. For now.
You slip past some guards, heading straight for his bedroom, his sanctuary so to speak. He calls it that because you are what he worships night after night in those sheets, inside those marble walls, against his broad body that makes every vibration buzz through your nerve endings. He is what makes this city even tolerable.
You throw the double doors open wide and slam them shut, letting the glow of the sunlight fade through the cascading window overlooking the city. The room smells of spice and aroma, the golden curtains sparkle as the sun kisses the see-through fabric and dips against the silky sheets that are bathed in a majestic golden hue. The king sized bed sits front and center as his grand bathing chambers lay to the right, just inside the hand crafted door that’s threaded with gold.
This room, this place is exquisite, and you can’t believe the emperor is letting Marcus stay here after their falling out that happened just weeks ago. But the best fighter gets to stay in these living quarters. They get money, a title, a chance at freedom from the arena if they’re lucky. That’s what Marcus is fighting for. To be free from this hellish prison, and you just pray to the gods that no one will take him from you. You’ll surely wither and fade away the moment something goes wrong in those walls of torture and murder because he’s all you know anymore here in Ancient Rome.
Before you can delve into anymore feelings, you hear the crash of doors being opened behind you, and then you hear the disposal of swords and shields being tossed in a heap on the floor, then you hear the deep, ragged breaths of the one you’ve been waiting for. Marcus.
You try to twist around, but strong arms envelop you from behind, and a warm breath blows huskily down the shell of your ear. “Enjoy the show?” he smirks as his meaty hands find the back of your long gown and rip, tugging it free as it falls to the floor around your ankles.
Your mouth drops open as warmth blooms in your core, hot and heavy like the room begins to feel. “Marcus! I liked that dress,” you pout.
He grabs the back of your hair and tugs playfully while one hand snakes around your waist and pulls you flush to his silver armor, making you gasp as he cups your bare breasts and starts kneading them together, like he needs you right this very second and can’t wait any longer to get his experienced fingers on your burning skin.
“I’ll buy you another one. Not like I don’t already have one hanging in my closet,” he teases, pinching your pebbling nipples together as a slight moan leaves your lips.
“Needy thing, aren’t you?” he chuckles, pulling you closer as one hand slips down and ghosts over the sheer panties, the only thing left on your bare body.
“For you, yes,” you whine, stifling a moan as his calloused thumb glides over your clit, sending a shiver down your spine as you fight to keep standing upright.
“Greedy thing I see, wanting to come already?” he teases as he tugs his hand away from your slick center and rips your ruined panties in half, leaving you completely bare and absolutely wet with desire and famished for his touch.
“Turn around,” he instructs with a bite as he assesses you from head to toe, licking his bottom lip in anticipation the moment he sees how drenched you are for him.
Your gaze drops over him, still clad in silver armor, his leather wristbands splattered in dried blood, his Caliga boots biting into his toned shins, the leather kissing his muscular thighs. He quickly loses the wristbands and stalks toward you, backing you up till your back is pressed into the corner of the bed, chest heaving as the possibilities swarm your hazy mind.
“My armor, unthread it,” he demands as his dark brown eyes pierce into yours as sweat glistens across his tanned forehead, dirt still caking his dark skin as he stands fresh from a win of a long day in the arena. “Now,” he growls as he loses his patience while you stand there staring like a lovesick puppy.
“Yes, sir,” you nod as your fingers get to work unlacing the gold threads of his armor, making sure your movements are swift and cordial, knowing he doesn't like waiting too long to have you.
His eyes follow you with every turn, every move, like he’s some kind of wild animal that’s stalking his prey, ready to pounce and devour at any minute. You have to keep your eyes off his as you unfasten his belt, the silver armor falling to the floor as you tug it off his broad body until he’s standing only in the leather material that covers his upper thighs and the boots that shine against his banged up ankles.
You stand there a minute and admire the gorgeous fighter that stands in front of you. Tall, extremely handsome, greying curls slicked back with the sweat from the sweltering sun in the arena, dirt etched across sculpted, tanned skin, eyes the color of bright sunlight and charcoal mixed together to make the prettiest honey-glazed eyes you’ve ever seen in your life. This man is like a god, and you’d happily get down on your knees and worship him at his beck and call.
His blazing eyes slide down your bare body and end at what’s left on his, nodding for you to finish the job. “Well, don’t just stand there. Finish undressing me,” he bites out with scalding irritation, clearly ready to forget his long day in an arena where hyenas bark at him day after day. He wants a release, and that release is you.
You quickly tug the leather material down his legs, taking his underwear to the floor as his hard cock stands at attention against his sculpted abs, his coarse, wiry, dark hair trailing down the base of him as you gulp with wide-eyes.
He’s so big, so thick, so very… god-like.
He sits down on the wooden chest that’s sprawled at the end of his bed, spreading his muscular legs wide as he points to his dusty battle boots. “Knees on the ground, Starlight,” he instructs firmly with a gravelly tone that makes you clench your thighs together.
“Yes. Of course, Marcus.”
“Sir,” he corrects as you bend down and start to unlatch the straps of his fighting boots, slowly stripping them off as you toss them to the side.
You idly sit there on your knees, one arm twisting around the back of his thigh as you spread him wider, almost drooling at the sight of his thick cock dripping precum around the angry red tip. Your mouth parts open, and you lose all train of thought. The only thing you want is to choke on that beautiful cock till he tells you to stop.
He strips you from your fantasies as he grabs a fistful of your hair, leaning down as he bites out slow, deliberate words. “Are you just going to sit there, or are you going to be a good girl and wrap that pretty little mouth around my cock?” His eyes twinkle with a seductive glare, and his dirty words melt all the way down to your heated core until you can actually feel them around your aching clit.
“Yes, sir. Wanna be your good girl,” you pant as you lick your bottom lip in anticipation.
He smirks and sits back as his rough hand guides you forward. “Then get to work,” he growls, tugging you forward with his hand wrapped around your hair until your lips meet his dripping tip.
You take your tongue and run it flat up the base of him, following along the bulging vein as you lick up the salty precum that gushes around his swollen tip.
Gods, he tastes so good, even after a long day in battle without a bath. You actually prefer to go down on him like this when his musk is drenched around the coarse hairs at his base, sweat pooling down his glorious body as you bathe in the aroma of him. Battle and all, this is when you like him most, when he completely takes charge and dominates you around his chambers, instructing you with filthy words and crude actions. This is how you like it. All hot and sweaty and desperate and messy.
He groans as you take him deeper, hollowing out your cheeks as you fill your throat with his thick cock, gagging around his massive size as he starts to bob his hips, fucking your throat in steady strides as his large fingers wrap around your soft waves.
“That’s it, right there, atta fucking girl,” he moans, tipping his head down to yours as he watches you through the black pits that consume his wide eyes.
“Look at me,” he demands as he pulls you back up to breathe, letting a bead of saliva connect to your plump lips from the tip of him as you suck in a deep breath, feeding your lungs as you look up into eyes that could eat you alive.
“There she is, my good little Starlight. Sucking my cock just the way I like it, yeah?” he coos, threading his fingers through your hair and stroking the back of your neck like you’re a well trained dog on a leash just waiting for their master to give you orders.
“Mhm. You just taste so good, all hot and sweaty,” you purr as your hand slides down the base of his shaft, squeezing his balls as he grunts in pleasure, tightening his grip on your neck as he pushes you back down.
“Yeah? Put those pretty lips to action then, gorgeous,” he growls.
He takes you to your limits, cock throbbing as you choke and gag around his thick length, drool dousing him as he fucks you hard and deep, taking exactly what he needs after going through hell and back himself in one day.
You groan, tears licking your eyes as you swallow the salty taste of him, letting him move you at his leisure, making your body do exactly as he pleases. Before you can get another good taste of his deliciousness, he pulls you off and throws you on your back in the silky sheets, watching him grab some of the gold cords from his armor.
Your breath escapes you as he crawls over your body, the dirt caking his broad arms as his hungry eyes nearly devour you whole as he carefully binds your wrists to the headboard, stilling your writhing legs as he starts to slowly spread them.
Your heart is beating wildly like ocean tides collide with your body, and your core is humming for Marcus to touch you in every single place he can get his filthy hands on you.
He takes the tips of his fingers and melodically strokes them down your neckline, skating between your peaked breasts, teasing along your inner thighs until you’re a writhing mess beneath him. “Marcus, please,” you beg, nearly panting his name raggedly as you beg for his touch.
“Sir,” he corrects sternly as he stares at you with dark eyes in warning.
“Sir,” you apologize with a meek voice.
He chuckles and drags his finger higher, teasing around your drenched folds as he hikes one leg over his shoulder, your other folding around his back.
“Now, I want you to look up and watch, can you do that?” he asks as you tilt your head and swallow a gasp as you stare into the reflection of you and Marcus in between the sheets that will soon be soaked.
“Want you to see what belongs to me, what I own,” he growls dominantly as he sinks down to his elbows and breathes in your musk deeply as your pussy shutters at just the feel of his hot breath.
You groan in waiting, and then his mouth is on you in a flash. He licks a thick stripe up your center as your wrists tug at the golden clasps, your fingernails digging into your skin as you moan in pure ecstasy when his tongue circles meticulously around your puffy clit.
“Oh, yeah,” you whine as the feel of his thick fingers curl up inside you, reaching that sweet spongy spot that makes you dizzy every single time.
He chuckles as he pulls you down further, your bound wrists biting into the cords as he swirls his tongue exceptionally fast, groaning at the taste of you as his messy curls fall against your thighs. You want to reach down and lace your fingers into those beautiful locks, want to hear him groan as your nails dig deep into his scalp as you moan his name around the spacious chambers of his living quarters, but you’ll work with this for now, until he says otherwise.
He pulls your bundle of nerves into his warm mouth, sucking and teasing as he looks up from under hooded eyes and stares at you playfully with his pupils expanding into dark pits the more he feasts on you.
You buck into his mouth as his fingers plunge in and out of you, creating the most obscene wet noises that reverberate off the marble walls. He releases your buzzing clit with a pop, licking the slick from his lips as he groans at the sweet taste of you.
“This is exactly what I needed, Starlight. Needed to drink you down, taste the savory flavor of this sweet pussy, needed to drown in you,” he pants as he dives back in, licking and sucking and fucking two thick fingers inside your dripping hole until you start to see black dots flick across your vision.
“Yes, come for me, Starlight,” he purrs, his gravelly voice melting your insides into warm lava as you snap and let the white hot heat take control.
You throw your head back into the plush pillow and let your moans fill the room as you clench around his thick fingers and release everything you have to give him.
“Just like that, Starlight. Fuck, yes,” he growls as he licks you clean, lapping up all the slick until you’re completely spent off the way he just demolished you.
You feel his broad body climb over yours, carefully untying you from the headboard as your arms fall slack to your sides. You feel as if every wave of ecstasy just crashed into you, the high tides pulling you out to sea as you agreeably follow the darkness. Marcus pulls you out of the lapping waves and carries you back to shore where it’s safe and warm by his side.
“Come here, Starlight. Just lay back and take the pleasure,” he purrs as he glides his massive cock into your slippery folds, spreading you wide as he starts to rock his hips back and forth, feeding himself inside you as your walls clench up around him.
You lay back into the dampening sheets as his body presses you deeper into the mattress, his hands tangled in your hair, your own legs wrapped tight around his broad back as you moan with every stroke of his cock. You feel the pressure inside you coiling tight, feeling as if you’ll come undone again at any second. This is what you love, what you revel in, what you need most in this world. It’s him.
You lay sprawled in the damp sheets, bodies tangled together like magnets colliding as you stare up into the wide mirror, the motions of his broad body reflecting in your wide eyes as you take the pleasure again and again.
“Marcus,” you cry out, pleading for him, begging him not to stop as you watch him take you harder, your nails dragging down his back with every deep thrust he gives you as he kisses the back of your cervix repeatedly.
“Yeah, feels good, doesn’t it, Starlight?” he coos against the shell of your ear as he traces his lips up up up until he’s hovering straight over your lips, his mouth teasing as he nips at your bottom lip.
“Marcus,” you repeat, your heart straining for him to kiss you.
Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. It’s all you want, all you need. Like air to fill your lungs, he’s all it takes.
It takes him less than two seconds to collapse his lips onto yours like he’s as desperate for air as you, like he might die if he doesn’t fill the space between the two of you. You moan into his mouth, tasting salt and sunlight crash against your taste buds as his tongue licks inside your panting mouth. He groans into the kiss, tangling his large tongue with yours as you chase him and let him swallow you down like it’s his last night to live.
He deepens the kiss, pulling you flush to his chest as he turns you around while still inside you, landing on his back as he laces his fingers through your locks, moaning your name with every lick and every taste he takes from you. It’s like the gods have blessed you, bringing you this man, this mountain of a man that feeds your every need. And gods, you don’t think you will ever get enough of him.
He disconnects from your swollen lips, resting his sweat covered forehead on yours as he concentrates on his swift strokes inside you, planting his hands firmly on your hips as he takes you for the ride of your life. “Yeah, that’s it, Starlight, You’re almost there, I can feel how much you’re squeezing. Let it out, let me feel it,” he growls through clenched teeth, trying not to fall apart before you do.
He speeds up his thrusts, filling you fuller than anyone else has before, rutting into you at just the right angle where you can feel him start to uncoil all your tethered connections as your body slackens against his hold on you.
One more hard, long thrust and you’re done. “Marcusssss,” you moan, feeling the heat slide down and spill over his entirety as you fall flush into his strong chest. He takes initiative and thrusts deeper, much harder than before, desperate to chase his own release.
He threads his brows together and groans your name quietly, his lips lingering over the shell of your ear as he takes three more breaths and then spills ropes of hot white cum inside your sticky core.
You moan together in ecstasy, bodies entwined as he empties his seed inside you, chests heaving with exhaustion as he carefully pulls out from inside you and collapses on the bed with a thud, your body slack against his as the damp, dirty sheets shift around your naked bodies.
After a few seconds of ragged breaths, he pulls your back flush against his sweaty chest and drapes an arm around you, holding you close as you let the sun slowly slip behind dark clouds that paint the sky violet colors.
“You need a bath,” you giggle as you lace your fingers through his.
“So do you,” he chuckles, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a huff. “Just let me lay here a few more minutes. I’m exhausted,” he murmurs as he pulls you as close as humanly possible to his warm chest. You cozy up to him and sigh, relaxing into his warm touch, reveling in this soft moment that seems more rare than nights you get him all to yourself.
The room is sweltering, his scent clinging to every part of your body as you bathe in the smell of sweat, dirt, spice, and something that smells a lot just like him. He’s like your very own glass of fine wine, the perfect combination of class and just downright filth. He’s just… perfect. Perfect for you, the only man you truly want. And maybe that’s because you’re in love with him. Maybe that’s why you cling to him as much as you can, afraid he’ll be taken from you at a moment’s notice.
You can’t lie to yourself, you’re absolutely terrified each time he steps into that arena, knowing the emperor wouldn’t even bat an eyelash if a man slaughtered him to shreds. You fidget against the damp sheets, cringing at the thought of blood filling his lungs, his body parts pulled apart by barbarians as he takes his last breath and slips into the dark abyss.
You clamp your eyes shut, thinking of Mina dragging him off to get married, thinking of him choosing another woman over you once he’s offered to cut ties in the arena if he marries someone with a higher title. You tremble at the thought of him leaving you all alone, like you never meant anything to him, like you were just a ragdoll for him to control whenever he wanted, like you don’t mean a damn thing other than knowing you’ll always be there at his command when he wants to blow some steam off from the arena.
You fight the uncontrollable tears that lick the backs of your eyes, plead to not break down in front of him, beg the gods to have some mercy on your soul if you were about to lose this man. You can’t lose him; you won’t lose him, unless he walks away and tells you to stay like a helpless dog losing their only person they know will take care of them.
You can’t stand it, can’t hold in the emotions any longer, so you let them flow, feeling the tears like icy shards spilling down your burning cheeks.
“Hey, hey, hey. Are you crying?” he asks with alarm in his deep, gravelly voice.
“No,” you croak out as another tear falls like raindrops on the bed.
“Hey now, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong,” he pushes softly, turning you around till you’re facing his direction, concern laced in his soft brown eyes.
You stare at him with sad eyes, nervously twisting your fingers in the silky sheets that are now covered in grime and sweat. You can’t tell him you’re scared to lose him, you just… can’t.
“Starlight, talk to me. Tell me what it is.” His fingertips brush off a falling tear, and you shake your head slowly.
“It’s nothing…”
He cups your chin and tilts your head up to where your eyes are aligned with his, and in those eyes swims the most sincere gaze he’s ever given you in his entire life. “It’s not nothing if it’s making you cry. Now talk to me. I’m right here.”
His fingertips feel like velvet dragging across your cheek, soft brown eyes weighing into yours as he gives you his full attention. And it’s no use now hiding your feelings; you need to just clear the air and get it off your chest.
You take a deep breath and focus before you choke your words out. “I’m scared, Marcus.”
“Scared of what?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows as he hears you out.
“Of losing you…”
He sighs and runs his thumb gently down your jawline, stroking it up and down as the soothing feeling seems to settle your nerves. “Oh, Starlight. You’re never going to lose me.”
You swallow the thick lump in your throat, holding back tears as you shake your head. “I could lose you any day in that arena. The things they put you through, the people you have to kill, the absolute horror you have to go through just to stay alive!”
His eyes go wide, but he lets you continue. “I don’t want to watch you die, Marcus! I don’t want them to keep feeding you to the wolves like you’re some kind of mindless entertainment for the city of Rome!”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, slowly opening them back up as he cups the back of your neck. “I know, baby. I know…”
Baby? That’s new….
“Just trust me that I know what I’m doing, and that I’ll fight like hell to win my freedom back,” he sighs, his eyes glistening with a look like pain etched in the crevices of those golden brown irises.
“What if your freedom meant taking a wife, marrying someone with a title…” you whisper, barely able to lock eyes as he scrunches his forehead together.
“What?” he asks with lines mapped against his tanned skin, considering your ridiculous question. “What do you mean take a wife with a title?”
“Someone like Mina,” you murmur quietly.
“Mina?” he asks with wide eyes.
“She’s been obsessed with you ever since you first stepped into that arena. The way she looks at you… she could have you with a snap of her fingers if only she asked her father. And Marcus, I don’t want…”
“Whoa there, slow down. Mina? Where is all this coming from? I have no interest in Mina.”
You gulp, eyes dropping to the twisted sheets as you feel your heart stutter in your chest. “I overhear her all the time. The way she swoons over you, the way she dreams that one day you’ll notice her in the arena. And then… and what if you want to get married? Not even to her, but to someone with money, a title, someone royal, maybe someone that’ll get you out of here quicker? What if you…”
You close your eyes tight, afraid you’ve spoken too much, afraid you’ve ruined everything as you lay in a heap with your heart pounding in your chest like a ticking time bomb. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did that, if you saved yourself from the brink of death. But I… I don’t know what I would do if I lost you, too. If you were to choose someone else…”
You let the tears collect in your eyes, feel them slipping down your face as you try your best not to throw anything else frantic and chaotic into the stormy clouds above Rome. You’ve already said too much, too fast. You weren’t supposed to say anything.
He lifts his head and stares at you, wordlessly assessing your fragile features as his eyes turn a soft brown, eyebrows knitting together as his eyes become glossy like yours. “Starlight, no. I don’t want Mina, I never did. And I would never ever leave you for someone else, even if it got me out of that pit faster. The only woman I want to see is you. If I haven’t made that clear before, I’m sorry. But… baby, you belong to me. You’re mine.”
“I’m… yours?” you ask carefully, your tears spilling over the edges uncontrollably as you cling to his chest.
“Of course you’re mine, Starlight. You’ve been mine since the first day I locked eyes on your beautiful face,” he whispers, curling a lock of hair behind your ear as you breathe in deep, surrounding yourself in the very essence of him as he tells you exactly how he’s felt the whole time this has been going on. “I’ve been yours longer than you know.”
You whimper out a sigh, threading your fingers through his tousled hair as you stare into starry brown eyes that you’d really like to slip in and stay for all eternity. “Really?” you ask with wonder in your eyes.
“Really,” he nods. “Do you know why I call you Starlight?”
“No,” you whisper quietly, shaking your head as a fresh tear streams down your skin. He catches it with his thumb and caresses your cheek gently as his calloused fingers soothe your cloudy thoughts.
“Because you’re the brightest thing I see every single time I step into that arena. The only thing that keeps me fighting week after week in that bloodbath is you, so I can get back to you.”
His answer leaves you completely breathless as you suck in warm air, your body still as you look longingly at the man that starts devastating wildfires in your heart.
“Me?” you ask in a shaky breath.
“You,” he nods with a smile. “The very first time I stepped into the arena, the first thing that crossed my vision was your eyes. Those beautiful, sparkling eyes were the only thing I focused on, the only thing that kept me from losing myself on that battlefield was you.”
You gasp, his deep words taking the breath from your lungs as he confesses about the first time he noticed you, saw you, really, truly saw you. You weren’t invisible to him. You were never invisible. “Marcus…” you say shakily as he strokes your jawline lovingly. “But… I… I’m just a simple woman. I have no titles, no money to my name, no prospects. I’m just… me,” you state slowly.
He sighs, cupping his hand around the back of your head as his fingers lazily stroke through your strands gently. “I don’t care, Starlight. I don’t care about money or titles or really anything about an important name. What's life of riches and freedom if I can’t have you?”
You swear your heart blooms like lush roses in your chest as you hear those words repeat again and again in your mind. He wants you, he wants you.
“I want you,” he repeats, as if he can hear the sounds of doubt play in your mind like a music box that won’t stop spinning.
He cups both sides of your face and looks at you with pure intent in his glossy brown eyes. “I want you every day, every minute, every second, and I burn for you in that arena,” he promises as his lips graze over yours delicately. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you sitting in the audience all wide-eyed and beautiful. And I want you even more now that I have you, want you by my side every minute of every day because I can’t stand the thought of losing you. And I’ll fight like hell to earn my freedom back because I love you.”
He loves you.
“Marcus, I…”
He crashes his lips against yours, a hot, needy, yearning kiss that nearly sends you soaring into the night sky as his lips surge like fire through your very veins. It’s soft like snow, kissing at your eyelashes as you let him pull you flush to his chest, needing to be as close as possible as love burns through your bodies, connecting them together as if this is the very first time you both ache to collide together.
“I love you, Marcus,” you whisper against his lips.
He pulls you on top of his chest and sinks his mouth down on yours, slowly slotting his tongue in your mouth, drawing lazily circles as he drinks you down as you allow him to take all of you. Whatever he wants, whatever he needs from you he has. He tastes like the stars that shimmer in the sky, and you’ll be his entire galaxy, his Starlight that’ll guide him off the battlefield of the arena and back into your arms where he’s safe from harm.
When he disconnects from your mouth, he stares at you, his soft brown eyes shimmering up at you as he runs his calloused fingers tenderly through your hair. “You’re mine, Starlight.”
“I’m yours,” you repeat, smiling down at him as he brushes his lips against your forehead, kissing you with love written all over his touch as he pulls you up from the bed.
“Come on, my love. Let’s go take a bath,” he says softly as he picks you up and carries you to the bathing chamber, his strong arms cradling you against his warm chest as he places a lasting kiss to your forehead.
All your worries are shed, all false pretenses are gone, everything you were mourning over is suddenly lifted off your shoulders as they fly away into the night sky. This man is yours, and he’s never ever planning on letting you go.
Starlight shines brighter than any Roman Empire games, and you’re his guiding light back home.
#marcus acacius#Pedro Pascal#marcus acacius x reader#gladiator 2#gladiator 2 fanfiction#marcus acacius x you#pedro pascal fandom#marcus acacius smut#marcus acacius x f!reader#marcus acacius x female reader#pedro pascal characters
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hi hello we're out here!!! you're not alone!!
Do I need to become a one person fandom for The Archive Undying? Is anyone else here can anyone hear me?? The Archive Undying?!!?!!!!! Sunai? Sunai anyone? Veyadi??? Hello???
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Rough
Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader
Genre: Smut, 18+
Warnings: Cheol’s hands, fingering, spitting, minor pain kink, pussy slapping, teasing/begging, thick dick cheol, unprotected sex, creampie, minor breeding kink, mating press, soft(ish) dom Cheol, strength kink, he’s wearing a watch and his chain, praise
Length: ~2k
Note: an ode to Cheol's hands, and his c*** i needed a cigarette while looking at pictures of his hands for this fic. everyone rot with me @gyuswhore @wonustars @ourdawnishotterthanourday @seokgyuu
Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)
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The lights of the TV illuminate you and your boyfriend’s intertwined forms resting on the sofa. Seungcheol’s hands busy themselves, fingers digging into the sore cords of muscle twisted along your legs. He thinks nothing of it, focused on the drama unfolding on screen while you focus on the cool metal of his watch licking just above your knee.
He smiles when you jump, the tickle of his fingers sending bubbling laughter into the space between you.
“What?” He asks, as if he doesn't have all your weak spots committed to memory.
“Nothing.” you mumble.
“Want me to stop?”
A shake of your head is the only reply Seungcheol needs before he pins your flailing limbs and goes about his business once again.
His hands always feel incredible. They’re always warm, always gentle despite what lurks beneath the surface. And they’re always on you, in some way or another.
The roughness of his palm or dig of his fingers are second nature after years of them glued to your body. Whether they’re holding you close or stroking across your cheek as he wakes you with sweet kisses. Heating the small of your back while he guides you in a crowd, or tangled with your own as he whispers his deepest secrets into the dark late at night. You love every part of him but his hands show you a million different ways he feels the same.
You try not to react as he massages up your thighs, the sinew of muscles seizing before they melt under his careful ministrations.
Every sigh through your nose is a tell Seungcheol is well accustomed to; what you like and what you love. Because he knows you like when he focuses on the curve of your quad, or the meat of your calves until they’re putty.
But you love when he pushes his hand under your oversized shirt and stretches the muscles deeper inside until you vibrate with want.
“You’re not watching the movie.” He whispers into your ear, nose following the curve of your jaw to the place he knows drives you wild.
“I'm a little distracted right now.”
And just like that the thick fingers stuffed in your cunt freeze before retreating. You can’t close your thighs to stop it due to the hand pinning your leg down to his lap with bruising force. But he can’t prevent your free leg from kicking in protest as you beg him to stay.
Seungcheol pinches the inside of your thigh until it stings, “Stop.”
You know that tone. It’s the one that warns you if you keep going, you won’t get what you want; what you need. Seungcheol isn’t a stingy lover but he likes to play and this is his newest game. If you can play along long enough he’ll make it worth your while.
“Eyes on the TV.”
With a harsh swallow you turn back to the screen. Once your boyfriend is sure you won’t look away, his hand returns, three fingers stretching you at a snail's pace. When he’s worked them all in, no longer cautious of your initial discomfort, he stops; focused on curling up against that spot he’s always found with embarrassing ease; pressing until your legs shake and you actually do start dripping into his lap. If it wasn’t for the fabric of your shirt, he could see everything.
The hand on your thigh joins in, the pad of his finger drawing rough circles of your clit. It’s fast and it's dirty but you keep pretending to watch the TV while Suengcheol does as he wants. Your mind is so numb you don’t even realize he’s pushed away the blanket and ruched your shirt up your hips to leave you bare. Not until you hear him spit and feel it land on your exposed clit framed between his fingers.
“Fuck,” you whimper, nails digging into the upholstery. “Please.”
But he’s not done yet. A swift slap to your pussy sends stars in your eyes and your body ten feet in the air if not for the man forcing you in place.
“Just relax, baby.”
You try. And Seungcheol respects your effort because every muscle he worked into submission over the past ten minutes jumps alive under your skin but you sit still in his lap and take what he gives you like he knows you can.
He kisses your cheek before whispering, “I love you.”
Each word burns into your skin, licks through your blood. He loves you, and you love him and all he wants to do is take care of you. So you try and let him even if it means madness.
Seungcheol watches you pretend to watch the movie once again, but your mind focuses on the sound of debauchery echoing between your thighs. If you looked down you know what you’d see. The way your pussy clings to his fingers with every stroke out, how they glisten with your arousal, every squeeze; everything.
All the teasing is enough to make your eyes gloss. Especially when he adds a fourth finger and tells you how perfect you are, how you were made for him, and if you cum right now he’ll give you his cock but you have to earn it.
You want to feel his lips suck around your clit until you're nothing more than an empty shell but you’ll happily settle for the swipes of his fingers. It’s obscene how wet you are and how loud your ruined cunt is over the blasting speakers.
“C’mon pretty girl,” he coos into your ear. “Come for me.”
The coil winds and winds until it snaps. All the edges ripple, the world blurs. Every breath hurts from the punch in your stomach forcing bolts of electricity through your nerves.
And Seungcheol doesn’t stop. He keeps going until you’re crying. Only to kiss away each tear with praise and soft lips. You barely crack your eyes open, watching his fingers disappear between his lips, sucking away the mess before he gives you a taste on his mouth.
Eyes shut and boneless in his arms, you let him push and pull you just the way he wants. Your body’s only protest in the exhaustion Seungcheol’s fucked into you with his hands. But it’s not enough to keep you from taking him again.
It never is.
When the jostling stops, you find him kneeling before you. He hasn't bothered to remove his clothes, or yours. Just forces your shirt over your breasts and his pants down until he's bare. Thick thighs frame an equally thick cock you know like the back of your hand.
If your boyfriend thinks you’re beautiful then he is other worldly in the glow of the LED screen.
Hands anchored on the back of your knees, you spread out for his eyes only. Seungcheol’s mouth waters at your wrecked pussy, soaked and swollen from his attention, begging to be split on his cock. The drooling tip of his length taps against your clit, sending you deeper into the spiral, each nudge making your muscles twitch until he uses his thumb to catch on your opening and force himself through the mind numbing clench.
Seungcheol goes slow, pressing forward only a millimeter at a time, barely giving you a taste before he pulls back and starts again. If the way you’re positioned didn’t prevent you from rushing him forward than the fist around his cock would as he teases you until you're begging and he’s puffing up with pride at how desperate you are.
Just when you think he’s ready to give in, almost flat against one another, he pulls out.
“I sweat to fucking god if you don’t fu—ckkkkkkk,”
Sheathed to the base in your heat Seungcheol finds paradise, dick twitching with every breath. The rough skin of his palms circle your ankles, spreading them up and out of the way so he can lean forward and give you what you want; your pussy stretched to the brim on his cock while he fucks every last thought out of your head.
“Move.” You mewl, barely human, shaking under his weight.
Settling your legs over his shoulders, he folds you in half, freeing the hands you love so much to do as he pleases. One lands just above your head to keep him from completely crushing you and the other cradles your jaw, thumb brushing across your lower lip before he meets you with a kiss.
His tongue glides against your own, fucking your mouth as his hips curl in time. Every thrust forward forces the air in your lungs up your throat to be swallowed by your boyfriend. He strokes you to life, pinned in place, helpless, glowing.
Seungcheol groans as he fucks you harder. “Fuck, you take it so well.”
You're shaking, vibrating from the synapses firing through every inch of your being. Chin dipped, you watch him wreck you, creaming around the base of his length like he’s fucked you for hours rather than minutes.
You’ll come like this, without any pressure on your clit; just the delicious drag of his thick cock in your walls, crushed under his weight and entirely at his mercy. Helpless Seungcheol latches his hand you yours, intertwines your fingers, and cants against like he’s possessed.
Eyes rolled as you go limp, you reach for his face and whimper into his mouth, climbing higher and higher until you hit the ceiling. Your hands are everywhere, anywhere in reach as you fail to ground yourself against the wave of pleasure rolling through your veins. And it all shatters with a whimper of his name.
He’s perfect and he’s yours and you don’t know what you did to earn him but you know you could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve him.
You try to break through the noise. But it just serves to make things worse because the only thing the man on top you likes to see more than you desperate for him is you coming on his cock. The arm above your head collapses, sending all of his weight on you, forcing him deeper into your guts until you can taste him on the back of your tongue. The wet clap of his balls against your ass with each rut forward rockets you into the deep end.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Seungcheol bites into your jaw. “That’s it. That’s my girl. Fuck, you’re so good. So good.”
It’s blinding, eyes cinched so tight fireworks float in the darkness; Seungcheol’s moans blending with the rush of blood fleeing your brain. He’s feral with the satisfaction of your orgasm, how you wail beneath him like your neighbors won’t hear and know you have a man who pleases you in every way imaginable. Like you want everyone to know his name.
“Cheol,” you whisper, all breath. So quiet he wouldn’t hear you if he wasn’t dialed into your every move. “Want…” you pant. “Want you…”
Seungcheol presses as deep as he can before letting go; stuffing you with his cum, grinding into your pussy with every jerk of his cock until it spills around where he splits you and slips down your ass.
His eyes never leave yours, watching you take every drop of his affection like you were made to. Like he was the one made to give it to you. Even with your thrashing, you never look away.
A final pathetic noise scratches the inside of your throat when he’s done. Seungcheol won’t pull out but he will pull away, yearning to see the mess between your bodies. Cum and arousal smears your bellies, your thighs, the base of his cock still inside you. Eventually he'll pull you up to wash off and you have no doubt the cushion will be beyond repair.
When he’s had his fill, he collapses into your chest, arms twine around your back as he kisses you with every ounce of devotion he can spare. Until you can feel his love down to the tips of your toes and through every last cell in your body.
And because showing you isn’t enough, he tells you again and again while he fills you once more in the comfort of your shared bed.
-
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