#how did they force-feed him it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonycries · 3 months ago

Text

THIS P*SSY DEPRESSED!

Synopsis. Don’t worry, he knows exactly the solution when you’re upset - fúck it out of you, of course!

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, FÉRAL GOJO, cheering you up, oraI (fem receiving), breéding, MAJOR overstím, PRAISE, THEY’RE SO DOWN BAD, lowkey sweet, slight exhíbitionism (Toji’s), mean Geto, síxty-nine, chokíng, making Choso cry mhm, spítting, pússy-slappíng, cúmplay, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. You’re loved n’ I hope y’all have a good leak day <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Noise complaint(s)

Any time Toji decided to visit you in your cute lil’ apartment, so did a few complaints from your neighbors.

It wasn’t because of his intimidating presence, or those deadly glares of his - targeted at everyone but you, or even because of the way his large frame unapologetically blocked every doorway in your building.

No, they were noise complaints.

“So that’s what’s got my girl so mm- upset?” Toji has the audacity to chuckle - chuckle - so raggedly at that syrupy pout of yours he’s kissing away. “Usually you and this sweet pussy-” He cups a palm at your glistening cunt, smearing your sweet, sweet juices in a glossy sheen down his wrist. “-are so happy to see me, n’ now you want to keep her quiet? All because some blue-balled loser just moved in next door and got jealous overhearing your pretty moans?”

At your nervous nod, he clicks his tongue gruffly, “Makin’ you all upset like this, tch-” Leaning down to whisper, until his sharp canines graze dangerously against your earlobe, “He’s about to find out that he hasn’t heard even half of it.”

“But Toji!” you’re squealing, fingers scrambling to clamp your already-deliriously sagging mouth shut. “I told you- we have to mmpf- be quiet. He seemed so grumpy, and-”

You’re being cut off with Toji nudging the divot of his fat head against your g-spot, until all those complaints are lodged in your quivering chest by a moan. Teasing, “Talking ‘bout another man when m’trynna make you feel better, doll? Bold today, aren’t ya?”

“N-no I was jus-” Barely-audible babbles drag out of you at the heavenly stretch of your pussy lips. Toji’s muscled chest heaves up and down at the way your pussy lips addictively swallow up his leaky cock, slobbering down, down, down his length till it glistened in the dim lighting. Your legs kicking up in the air when he insistently feeds your cunt inch by greedy inch.

Again. And again and again and so needy. Depraved.

But it still wasn’t enough for him.

“Aww, come on, woman.” He’s rolling his eyes, that tiny scar curling up in a devilish grin when he pries away the hand on your mouth. “Why’re you lyin’ to yourself like this? I know you wanna heh- scream my name as much as this cute cunt of yours is right now. Do it.”

As if to confirm his point, Toji’s pushing apart your puffy folds to let your gaping pussy squelch! even louder at each of his bullying thrusts. Tight ring of muscle taking each and every smack of his sharp hip bones so well, the riotous creaking of your bed following shortly, headboard just slamming into your poor wall despite being bolted onto it.

It was already so loud.

“I don’t hngh-” you let out a feverish gasp when each roll of his hypnotic cadence gets too much. “I don’t wanna give off a b-bad impression…I just want the neighbors to like me.”

Heart clenching in his chest at how cute you are, how sorry your voice sounds, he finds his irritation flaring once again at whoever this bastard was that had you doubting yourself this way.

“Doll– they’d be fuckin’ stupid not to. And I’d beat their asses, too.” Two soft pads of his fingers come to smush your cheeks together, forcing you to stare up into his darkened emerald eyes. “But my poor baby’s still ngh- upset, no?” When you’re hesitant with your answer, they slide down to your neck - just barely putting a bit of leering pressure, “Answer me while m’still being nice, doll.”

It’s all you can do to choke out a shrill, “Yes.” He can feel your walls clenching around every ridge and prominent vein down his shaft so tight with every sultry, mewled-out word. “H-he was really sweet! But it made me- a bit- jus’ a bit.”

“See?” And Toji sounds so smug, predatory tone bleeding into the way his harsh rams pick up to an obscene speed. A thumb of his dips down to swivel over your neglected clit, wrenching out those candied moans he loves so much. “Nothin’ wrong with makin’ my girl feel better after a shitty experience. N’ if anyone has anything to s-say, they can come complain to hngh- me.”

“B-but-”

“Ah ah-” Toji kisses sloppily at your lips trying to press together and quieten, sucking on your lower lip. “What did I say just now? Loud, pretty girl.”

And it’s like a dam breaks open right then and there, you’re arching your body off the bed like such a slut to press your bare tits against Toji’s pecs. Sensitive. Faster. “Toji- oh fuck, m’so-”

“Heh, louder. I don’t hear you losing your beautiful voice yet.”

Keening, “M’so close. Fuck- g-gonna cum all over your cock.”

He’s cupping his ear so mockingly, hips still stuttering and thrusting forwards without a moments’ faltering. “Still can’t hear you, m-ah not gonna let you cum if you’re not loud enough, y’know.”

You were sure your sinful noises were traveling through the heavy, plastered wall now. Picking up in pitch and speed with every double-attack on your sweet spots everywhere. Spearing the lewd curve of his dick into you, he’s fucking you into the mattress so mean - meaner that usual. Rugged muscles of his toned waist flexing when he jostles and thrusts unforgivingly. Your voice is hoarse at this point, “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck Toji m’cumming. I’m-”

Every other loud moan is drowned out by the ringing in your ears, Toji’s own soft rasps filtering through the white-hot pleasure running down your spine.

He’s fucking you through wave after wave of high, gifting your bruised g-spot with a thorough, sly pistons of his still-swollen cock. Something that didn’t bode well for you, you already knew.

“Tha’s it. Yeahh, that’s it-” A hand cups the back of your head gently, even though his slamming staccato was anything but. “Loud. Jus’ like that- shit, gonna make him jealous. Have him regret makin’ my girl upset, fuck-” An irritated banging sounds from the other side of the wall right above your headboard - your neighbor. “Fuck, just watch I’ll give him a real show.” Still throwing jagged hips your way, ram after ram. “What’s the fucker’s name again?”

“He- he said his name was Shiu.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Sweet, sweet treat

“I can fix it.” your husband eyed that droopy bowl of frosting and back to your candied, icing-glossed pout. He can’t help but plant a sweet, sweltering kiss on them, just groaning out, “We can do it together.” Barely managing to break away and breathe out, “S’gonna- turn out- perfect, my love.”

Which is how you find yourself splayed out so shamefully on the cool granite countertops of your kitchen, your soft cotton dress only pulled lazily to the side. Nanami’s knees seated firmly on the hardwood floors, face tucked in between the heavenly sweet folds of your already soaked cunt.

“Oh- oh fuck, Ken–” he makes you let out a honeyed drawl with every drag of his hot tongue up and down your soppingly wet slit. “Y-you’re gonna get the- ngh- counter dirty!”

So what? He thinks, and it only takes a flicker of surprise in your half-lidded eyes for him to realize he accidentally said that out loud. Not used to those uncharacteristically brash sentences, but Nanami was so drunk off your addictive juices right now.

Tipping his head back, back, back to let them make their slow, sultry journey down his throat. He’s slurring out proudly, “I’ll clean the mess after I cheer up my upset lil’ wife, okay?”

With this, he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Adding to the glistening gloss that traveled down your folds - and Nanami couldn’t help himself but kiss at the mess he’s made. Over and over and-

“F-fuuuck, jus’ like that-” You’re keening when he’s alternating between hollowing his cheeks out with methodical, never-ending sucks on your sensitive clit and just peeking inside your needy hole with his tongue. “You’re too good with your hngh! -tongue, Ken–”

It’s impossible to run away - and he knew that, too. Every little inch you backed on the counter had him just dragging you back twice as much. Hot tongue clashing and angry to part your swollen pussy lips.

You can only thread your fingers through his neat blond hair even tighter when he surges back forward. Pussydrunk. Groaning at the lewd smack of his tongue dipping in and out of your puffy folds, Thumb circling around your throbbing clit, “And you’re too sweet, darling. Even sweeter than-” He pools your slick on two thick fingers of his, coating a glossy sheen of obscenity all the way from his rounded tips to the gold wedding ring glinting in the dim light. Before popping them in his mouth to take such long, cleansing drags without even a shred of abashed hesitation, “-that icing of yours.”

“I know–” you’re babbling in disappointment, the full force of your failed attempts at baking something special earlier this evening hitting you once again at full force. “Ugh, what a waste. I can’t even-”

A syrupy beat passes. One. Two.

And at that very moment, you’re feeling the maddening stretching of your gummy walls being forced to their very limits. Whirling your dazed gaze down to spot that Nanami was now standing, belt unbuckled, tugged down just enough that you were reeling from the pressure of his fat head just barely kissing past your fluttering hole.

“That’s my wife you’re talkin’ about.” he growls, low and satiny. Hands steadying on the two sides of your trembling thighs, his grunts catch in his throat when he thoroughly sinks his swollen length in. Never-ending, dizzying. A quick frosting-coated glide of Nanami’s fingers on your lips, and he’s pressing another lingering kiss on your slack mouth. Tasting you and the sweet icing and you, “And I don’t let anyone talk about her that way, my love.”

Now, usually, Nanami was a man of patience - liking to prepare and play around with your pretty pussy as if you were his favorite toy. Molding your plush walls like clay to take his massive cock.

But now, oh now Nanami Kento was anything but patient. Shit, he didn’t even know if your snug walls could take him right now.

Hands curling up into painful fists far away from the curve of your hips, as if he was trying to stop himself from just grabbing your quivering body and just slamming himself inside you until he reached your lungs, your heart, that stupid brain of yours that loved to overthink.

“Don’t you ever fuckin’ say anything bad about my wife. You’re perfect.” he breathes, greedy hazel eyes looking like they could devour you whole. “The frosting is perfect, the anniversary cake is perfect, your smile, your mind, you-” You’re being attacked by a flurry of kisses being gifted on every inch of your face that could be reached, “You you you- I love you.”

If you were in the right state of mind, you’d have responded back in a heartbeat. But right now, he’s not waiting a split-second longer before bullying the rest of his swollen, filthy cock in. Solid inches being shoved inside to force your walls to accommodate, stretching out so maddeningly across every divot and upwards curve down his shaft.

In and out in and out in and-

Your nails tear across his favorite blue button-up, down his muscled shoulders, down to that speckled yellow tie you’d gotten him a few years ago.

“You’re so- hngh-” you squeal, tugging Nanami closer by his tie. Making him bully past your narrow opening even deeper, slick walls squeezing so tight at how his weepy red tip presses right on top of your g-spot.

He chuckles, it’s so endearing how you’re already too cockdrunk to speak. One engulfing hand on your shoulder is all it takes for you to be sprawled back on the cool counter. Nanami’s pummeling cock bullying so deep inside your hot core it’s the only thing you can think about - nothing but him.

“How about, after-” Another dredge of sweet sweet frosting is dabbed along your lips, your heated skin. All for Nanami to lick sultrily, “-we’ll make the cake together, hm?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Just use me, baby.”

Those shallow, sultry words are falling from Choso’s rosy lips before he even realizes it - ringing like sheer melodies over the heady smacking of skin-on-skin where he’s bullying his fat cock into you.

After a few seconds of his sloppy, stuttering rams sending the gooey puddle of cum and slick spreading further and further on the sticky, silken sheets below you - the words finally register.

“Use you, baby?” you purr, batting your lashes in a way that has him gulping. Feeling his aching shaft twitch against your gummy walls, swollen balls squeezing so so angrily with how much seed he’d been gushing out tonight. “You want me to use you?”

Each thrust of his is lingering, rolling forwards to push you further and further up that pooling mess. He can’t think, he can’t even breathe. And it takes everything in Choso to groan out, “Yes yes- fuck, please.” You’re feeling him place a trail of wet kisses up to the nape of your neck, big tears clinging to his dark lashes, “If my- hngh- if my girl is upset, I want her to use me. Ruin me till she forgets all about it.”

It only takes a split-second for you to immediately flip around your positions, pinning a whiny, pliant Choso so harshly down onto the plush mattress.

“Hngh- oh, baby—” He bounces slightly at the sheer force. Dewy eyes rolling to the back of his head at the slobbering sheen of cum dripping down his long, long length. Bucking up his quivering hips till you’re speared all the way down on his cock, clit hitting the tufts of black at his thick hilt. “Fuuuck—.” He’s groaning raggedly, like a mantra, two big arms tugging your body stuck to his sculpted front. Nodding half-lucidly, “Yeah- yeah just like that. Whatever you want with me.”

Your pace was unforgiving - barely even giving him a moment to spew out those pussydrunk promises before rocking your hips up and down up and-

“Use you, huh?” you echo back his own words, the sheer need dripping in them having Choso bow his body upwards to pummel into you in a matching feverish pace. You’re humming, thinking back to those stupid pick-up lines the creepy new manager at work had snided just today. It was harmless, but oh how Choso would kill him if he knew. “Well then, don’t mind if I do.”

With a pained keen, he’s surging upwards onto his elbows, craning his head to mesh your honeyed lips with his. “Mmm- mpfh yeah, exactly like this.” Mixing out such throaty groans with your gasps, so desperate to please you with the way he plants two feet on the bed, thrusting up hazily to find your sweet spots, “S’this any better? How do you- ngh how do you feel, baby?”

You’re letting out a drunken giggle with how he’s the one asking - when really it should be you. Because your sweet boyfriend looked so ruined, eyes wrecked with tears. Milky skin a canvas for possessive red marks from your nails. Kiss-bitten lips spit-glossed and permanently parted in ecstasy, only slacking further every time your snug channel dragged down him.

“Much better, forgot about m’day already.” you’re hissing into his open mouth. “So fuckin’ gorgeous n’ mine, that bastard doesn’t know what the fuck he’s ah- talking about.”

Choso had no idea what you were talking about - though, he thinks his mind is too much of a hot, gooey mess to understand right now. Still so needy to please. Only being able to babble out a stupid, “Yours- fuck m’yours.”

And despite being the one setting the tempo, you can only let out such whiny groans at the sheer stretch Choso’s swollen cock is causing you. By the way he’s molding your gummy walls to each and every throbbing vein decorating down him.

“Sh-shit m’so close, baby.” he whines, a fresh wave of tears streaming down with each overstimulating smack! of his tight, overworked balls against the curve of your ass. Lazily, like he’s moving through molasses, Choso’s drawing messy patterns on your pulsing clit - not even circles, brain too fried to. “M’so close fuck- I need you to- I need-”

“Shhh shhh.” you coo, running a hand through his dark strands, damp with sweat. “Cum f’me, Cho~”

“Hngh!” He can’t stop his hips from bucking up ferally, crying out, “But- I can’t. Wan’ you to feel better. Need you to cum f’me. Use me-”

“Cho.”

“Please-”

“Choso.” you warn, narrowing your eyes, deciding to tease him a little with shallow, repetitive grinds of your hips up and down. Toes curling at the friction of his creamy seed sloshing around inside. “Cum.”

“Hngh- but-” he’s thrashing upwards, so addicted to the rough collision of your sensitive spots against his fat head. Pulling out such fucked-out moans from you already, “But m’spposed to be making you feel happy-”

Your fingers deftly find themselves on Choso’s temping throat, right above his racing pulse. You tighten your nails just enough to leave five matching crescents to match the rest of his marked-up body.

“Cho–” you puff in a sultry groan against his ear. “All I want is for you to fill me up right now.”

And then he’s spilling into you in thick, hot dredge after dredge of his potent seed - before you’ve even finished your sentence. It overfills your pre-painted cunt, that obscene white slopping out of your slit and onto where your hips rocked against your boyfriend’s even harder. A creamy white ring forming mouthwateringly. Relentlessly.

“See?” Choso couldn’t - vision blurry, ears stuffed with cotton. “I don’t care what any sleazy manager has to say, you’re perfect for me.” A gentle kiss is placed on his pouty, worried lips and shit you still didn’t show any signs of slowing down, overstimulating him to tears. You trace his furious marks, “N’ pick me up from work tomorrow in your skimpiest muscle tee~”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Overtime?

A lewd smack! is all that’s ringing in your ears right now, so loud over the distant hum of the photocopier. Accompanied shortly by Geto’s sing-song rasp of, “Heh, missin’ our reservation for this- Are you the one havin’ a bad day or am I?”

Before you can answer, you’re being gifted with another mean kiss of your boyfriend’s palm against your bulging pussy. Smack! Lingering on the nudge of where he could feel your sloppy hole mending around his girthy shaft, before dancing upwards to grip your hair in a sultry hold.

Pulling your entire weight up, up, up like he didn’t care about the way he was treating you like some ragdoll right now. Up to drag his lips towards your ear, “Doesn’t matter, because m’still fuckin’ you just the same.”

“S-Sugu–” your breaths crack with need when he’s pushing in a harsh thrust to slam back into the very bottom of your poor pussy. Eyes darting to the tiny window of your office photocopy room, “Sugu, we’re going to get caught.”

“And yet, she’s still hah- sucking me up as sluttily as ever.” he grins, tilting his head back to get those long, inky strands out of his face. He chuckles at the obscene sight of your cunt stretched to her limits, struggling, and drooling a sweet, sweet gloss down his length. “What’s with the ngh- attitude now? You said you wanted to feel better about working overtime so here we are.”

You bite down on your lower lip to hold back your moans when his fat tip draws a solid, straight line across your bruised cervix. Slamming forwards to have you scrambling forwards into some more important paperwork you really should be looking over right now.

“I did but-”

“Problem solved then.” Geto lets out a low whistle, sounding so utterly smug when he pulls your hips deeper into his. “Now let me make this shitty workload hah- so much better for you, gorgeous.”

Honestly, when you told your dear boyfriend that you’d have to cancel tonight’s date because of a sudden deadline for tomorrow, you felt guilty. Working after everyone else had left, spewing out upset little apologies until he told you he’d come over to the office to “help you take your mind off of things.”

You just didn’t expect it’d end up like this.

Smack!

Geto scoffs, “Aww documents have you zoning out on me again, pretty girl? Take a break, didn’t I tell ya you don’t have to worry about work and all those stupid things when you’re with me?”

Your knees weaken involuntarily when his gruff question is followed by such an unapologetic crash into your ravaged g-spot. Thankfully being held up by one of Geto’s strong arms to fuck yourself back all the way from his red, weepy tip to that see-through ring dredged up on his thick base. Somehow, you’re managing to gasp out, “N-no, I was just…”

“N-n-no, you were just zoning out, that’s what.” he’s mocking your answer in an overly-dramatic higher pitch, adding a few extra moans you were spilling with every harsh slam after slam of his hips. “What did I tell you now, relax. Let me fuck this shitty overtime and that shitty boss outta ya cute lil’ head, gorgeous. You and her-” His red-rimmed eyes, drunk on the feeling of your slicked walls enveloping him, lock on the sight of his curved dick disappearing so easily in and out of you. “-don’t have to worry about a thing right now.”

It was that same little promise - the one he’d whispered over and over into your sagging open mouth when he’d first ambushed you in the photocopy room. Bending you over the nearest flat surface before ramming into you all those thick, greedy inches of his long-needy cock.

And here he still was.

Splatters of your syrupy slick coats his toned pelvis with every jagged thrust, fucking you so deep - so disrespectfully - into the office desk. Your feet don’t even touch the ground now, mind spinning and syrupy. Geto’s bending his own to angle up exactly to hit the bullseye of your sweet spots. All those familiarly mapped-out areas to drive anything and everything out of your mind but him and the temptation for more more more-

Click!

Both of you are raising your heads in sync at the distinct clamor of an opening door somewhere in the office - shit, was someone doing patrols at this time?

Your jaw drops open in shock - and the feeling of your boyfriend sliding two slender fingers to your pulsing clit. Drawing rough, skimming circles on the bundle of nerves. He has you jolting and arching your back right into him, his arms - exactly where he loved to have you.

“Now we’re-” your words come in strangled little stutters, mindlessly bouncing your ass back onto his cock. Feeling the sinful tremors run down your spine with each slam, “-we’re really gonna get hah- caught. And I’m not even halfway through my project yet.”

And Geto - that smug bastard - sounds amused. He thinks he’ll have a ah- talk with your boss later about piling on workloads later. But for now, he sounds so fucking content when he’s musing, “Better cum fast before they give you more than overtime, pretty girl.” Before planting a deceivingly chaste peck on your lips, “Though, I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to havin’ a cute lil’ housewife to spoil all day either.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - QUIET TIME!

“Oh, Kuna–”

“Now that’s music to my ears.” Sukuna smirks darkly, lips searing in a trail right down your arched spine. Two inhumanly large hands massage down your back, pulling you against his sculpted front. “So much better to hear you say m’name than complain about some fuckin’ eugh-” His tone trembles in distaste, “-office drama.”

Scoffing, “No need to be so mean, Kuna. You really should’ve heard what Mrs. Smith down at-”

That little tangent earns you a sharp smack! to the fat of your bare ass, cupping the little tremors with a chuckle. He hums with a mocking lilt in his baritone voice, “You’re testing my patience~” Sukuna goes back to kneading at the stressed knots in your body. “Shut up and let me massage you, woman.”

And oh you should’ve learned your lesson - should’ve taken this rare, sweet little moment you’d gotten from your rough boyfriend. Should’ve done anything other than huff out, “Ugh, if only you’d heard what she said, ruined my whole-”

“Lift your hips.”

Your eyes widen at the sudden interruption, “Wh-what?”

“Lift your hips goddammit.”

It’s all you can do to mindlessly head his gruffed out words, legs stuttering and shaky when you get up on all fours. A gasp rips from your throat when Sukuna shuffles into the gap between your pliant body and the silken bedsheets. Not stopping until his hot breath was puffing against your sopping slit, your eyes mere inches away from his massive erection. Throbbing thickly and outlined with precum through his boxers.

Your mouth waters, “K-Kuna what-”

“So it really takes this to get me back on your mind, huh, brat?” he’s cutting you off with another branding smack on your ass - this time, the very rounded tips of his thick fingers just grazing against your dripping folds. “Couldn’t stop talkin’ about some fuckin’ Mrs. Smith even when I’m right here.”

“Are you jealous?” you muse, brows turning upwards in confusion. “Because I can assure you-”

Before you can run your mouth again, Sukuna’s cutting you off with one hand reaching down to wrap around your throat. The other pulls your shaky hips down to sit on his face.

“How’s this for jealous?” He grunts, an obscene slurping noise pouring into your hazy bedroom, eyes rolling to the back of his head at this messy kiss with your needy cunt. “Gonna make you forget about those shitty people. Just focus on me.”

You’re managing to wrangle your greedy gaze over your shoulder to spy his lewdly wet smirk, glistening down with a glossed cover of your slick. They’re so pretty, so kiss-bruised in your favorite shade of pink when they wrap around your throbbing cunt to give a harsh suck. “What? Got a problem, woman?”

You wine softly in protest, your lower lip jutting out in a pout that makes his clothed cock just coat down his fat tip with syrupy precum. Opening your mouth to retort and-

In all of two seconds, Sukuna’s hand snug around your throat drops down to tug on his boxers. Tall, angry erection hitting your parted lips with a soft thwack! It doesn’t stay there for long - no, because you feel that familiar pressure back on your throat again, and his achy cock being bullied down, down, down your throat.

“Actually, don’t answer that.” he’s letting out a strained groan, sanity dancing away with every clench of your tight throat around his glistening shaft. Holding you still with the hand on your throat, Sukuna’s powerful thigh muscles strain when he��s fucking up into your heavenly mouth slow, sultry. Spitting to coat him in all your sweet saliva, “Consider this quiet time, just shut up and take my cock.”

Your eyes are watering, Sukuna’s girth rubbing against every part of your plushy mouth. Swirling a pool of salty precum on your tongue. You can’t do anything but keen brokenly around that warm weight when long, thick fingers are spreading your puffy folds to wrangle his long tongue in deeper. Textures of his tastebuds grazing over and over against your spongy entrance - your clit.

“Hngh- mmpf-” you’re jutting your hips traitorously. Dragging your slobbering pussy up and down his thorough lips, giving longing, drunken licks up from your weepy base to your hot clit. “Kuna-”

He breaks away with a sinful smack! Your sensitive bud being tugged along with snapping strings of delicate precum and slick.

“Mhm, that’s what I like-” he’s slurring out words mixing together with need. Free hand coming down to toy your clit between two rolling fingers. And you could tell how much he liked this, fat shaft twitching animalistically inside your mouth. Nudging his leaking head at the back of your throat, it’s only with how long you’ve been with Sukuna that you manage not to gag. “-to have you shut up on my cock this way. That pretty mouth is better used for something other than rememberin’ some shitty people when you’re with me. They can fuck right off with the disrespect towards my woman.”

It’s all you can do to keep your jaw slacking further and further with every dragged-out smack of Sukuna’s heavy balls against your face. His hips using you like some glorified cocksleeve, ruthless in his pace. Molding your mouth to the shape of him while he does the very same with yours.

“F-fuuuck-” you manage to gasp out through the drooling edges of your lips. “It feels so- ngh–” Moans getting lost when Sukuna flicks your throbbing clit slowly, nudging with the very tip of his dark fingernails. “You’re being so-”

“So loud.” he finishes your own sentence for you. Grinning a grin that sends shivers up your spine, right to where he was stuffing your mouth shut with all long inches of his cock. Murmuring dangerously around your sloppy hole, “Interrupt quiet time again and you don’t get to cum, brat.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Unmistakably depraved.

“Fuuuuck, sweetheart.” Gojo’s whispering, over and over. As if he can’t - won’t - manage to articulate anything else right now. The honeyed words wrenching out of him with each sticky crash of his shaft down your sloppy slit in this firm mating press. “Do you know how hngh- long I’ve missed this sweet cunt?”

You don’t have to answer, and the echoing smack! of his too-sensitive balls against the curve of your ass is enough of one for him. Making his eyes gleam with such a feral glint, traveling straight to where he was pressing in bullying little grinds past your clamping walls.

It’s been so long - too long - about a whole week since your pussy-whipped boyfriend was able to have his fill of you.

A soft pad of his thumb rolls in a languid circle over your needy clit. Sending white-hot shockwaves that have you jolting the balls of your feet to greedily swallow up even more throbbing inches of him.

“Fuck, forgot how tight you s-squeeze me when I do that.” Gojo eyes dance to the back of his head with every bottom-out hit against your clingy mess of a cunt. Crashing so messily onto every velvety inch of your cunt. It only takes a few drags of your slobbering walls down his length for your dear boyfriend to run his mouth, “Forgot allll about this because of some- hngh- some mournng for a fucking fictional character-”

“My favorite character, Toru!” you exclaim, through furrowed brows. Both of you are shocked at the fact that you’re still managing to speak in coherent sentences - just means he hasn’t fucked you good enough yet, he muses with his syrupy, pussydrunk mind. “He was my- my favorite and he died and-”

You’re immediately being shut up by two sweet lips planting on your own, immediately moving to suck on your tongue so filthily. “Well, I’m your favorite boyfriend-” Your only, but semantics. Gojo whines - whines, “Shouldn’t I- hngh- be more important?”

As if to help you make your decision, he’s burrowing his cock in such needy thrusts. And Gojo can’t help but crane his neck to bite down on your frantically racing pulse, feeling himself salivate with how well you’re milking each and every single vexing ram of his hips. Just spearing the hotly saturated tip into your spongy g-spots, so fucking big that every stroke feels like a brush against your throat, an indent into the plush walls of your pussy, wrapping and molded around his girth.

Another bite to your neck at your silence - sharp canines just shy of drawing blood. And you swear Gojo’s eyes spark with an unnatural lightning blue when he devours you with a greedy stare, “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“You a-are.” Is all you can gasp out, but that’s not enough for the great Gojo Satoru. You’re instantly earning a rosy pout and a loaded smack! right on the bullseye of your glistening clit, faintly you think you hear the crackle of jujutsu. Thighs burning at the sheer stretch of being folded down, down, down until your knees knocked against your tits. “You’re more- hah! Fuck fuck fuck don’t– you’re more important!”

This seems to soothe your jealous boyfriend a bit, but it still doesn’t stop him from placing such brutal thrusts on your poor, ravaged pussy. Bruising. Sloppy.

You’re whining so brokenly, “Fuck, right there- feels too good- hngh!”

“Mhm, exactly what I thought.” Another explosive slap to your sensitive nub, humming with power, and Gojo throws his head back at how much it makes you gush so wetly around his thick hilt. “Now, was that- ngh- was that so hard?” Spitting out little profanities into your lips, as if the man he was jealous over wasn’t a few pixels, “The f-fucker- Had to wait a whole week before I got to comfort my sad girl? I’d kill him myself.”

You can’t even formulate a response to that - not even if you wanted to. Because with increasingly sloppy drags of his cock against your walls, Gojo only grows more and more heated.

“Fuck- makin’ my girl so upset. Gonna fuck all thoughts outta him for ya.” Babbling out little curses a mile a minute, swift pace bruising your spring cervix, your g-spot. A thin trickle of drool trails messily in-between your clashing kisses, only growing every time he’s ramming into your gripping cunt. “Gonna make you cum- make you mine.” Difficult, even with how you were clinging onto his every rough, angled thrust, and you don’t think Gojo even realizes the possessive little spanks he’s repeatedly leaving on your puffy clit. “Won’t you cum like a good girl f’me, sweetheart?”

He’s moaning at the sloppy way you listen to his ragged plea, letting out such pretty moans into the heady air when you fall back into your high. Toes curling, jolts of needy pleasure running down your spine, such a mess.

It makes Gojo falter in his tempo, it makes the sharp bones on his toned hips slam into you even harder, stuttering and rutting forwards like some animal in heat that can’t bear to do anything but be buried well inside you. It makes him cum.

“Oh- fuck, Toru s’in so deep.” You mewl, too cockdrunk to say anything else. To feel anything but the slow, sultry filling of your quivering cunt. Rope after rope of his hot cum painting the mess of your branded walls inside, and each time he’s fucking his cum even deeper you feel a lewd whimper of his name leave you. Vision tinging with need, with the feeling of being so overfilled you could barely breathe. “Oh- oh my god I feel it coming-”

Your words hitch in your throat when Gojo - cock still angry and twitching with faint wisps of trickling cum - plugs a slender finger into your bulging cunt. Stopping the overflow, the grins, “Hope you’re on the pill, my girl, because we’re not done until you forget.”

A/N. Ouu y’all should’ve seen the way I was CACKLING writing Toji’s ending.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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boobearymuch · 1 month ago

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A Rising Sun

Summary: Thirteen missed calls and twenty unread text messages. Not even Mephisto could track you. “You’re really starting to worry me here, kitten.” Sylus pressed the phone to his ear, eyes glued to Mephisto’s live feed as he soared through the N109 Zone’s darkest alleys, “If it was something I did, let me make it up to you.” Tags: Sylus/Reader, gender-neutral, slight angst, hurt/comfort, reader is mc, established relationship Word Count: 1.8k A/N: requested by @hrts4hanniehae read on ao3 | masterlist

Crystal clinked loudly against a mahogany table as Sylus put the empty glass down with a seething glare. He would’ve slammed it were it not for your sleeping form just several feet away, however. Your chest rose and fell under his satin sheets, and he counted each breath like a rosary bead; you’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine. He unstopped a priceless bottle of whiskey and poured himself another drink, but the tremor in his hand sloshed amber liquid over the sides. Sylus huffed but didn’t bother wiping up the mess. Instead, he downed the whiskey in one go and squeezed his tired eyes shut. The burn was nothing compared to the chill down his spine when he found you.

Thirteen missed calls and twenty unread text messages. Not even Mephisto could track you. “You’re really starting to worry me here, kitten.” Sylus pressed the phone to his ear, eyes glued to Mephisto’s live feed as he soared through the N109 Zone’s darkest alleys, “If it was something I did, let me make it up to you.” The begging in his voice grew more obvious as the voicemails went on, “—Please. Just let me know you’re okay.” Sylus drew closer to the hologram, helpless, as Mephisto investigated another possible location, “I can’t…” Another dead end. The mechanical crow cooed softly before swooping into another street, and Sylus heard his voice catch in his throat, “...I can’t feel you anymore.”

Beep. The call ended, leaving a loaded silence in its wake.

He considered leaving yet another voicemail when Mephisto turned a sharp corner and pointed his eyes at a dark figure slumped against a wall. No, no, no. His worst fears were realized when the crow perched himself on your knee and cawed loudly, as if scolding you for causing so much trouble. Then his lens panned over the blood. So much blood. Sylus couldn’t recall the ride there, which car he took, how fast he was going. Trivial details, to be frank. Your name was the only thought in his mind, the only language he understood—you, you, you. Sense returned to him when he clutched your limp body in his tight embrace, and you groaned weakly in his arms. “I’m here,” Sylus sighed against your ear, “Always here.”

The sheets of his bed rustled as you shifted your weight, and Sylus shot you a look. “Sylus,” You called weakly, and winced as you sat up.

“Don’t lean on your arm.” Despite your discomfort, his narrowed gaze remained fixed on the empty glass in his hand. He made no move to approach you, “You’ll disturb the bandages.” Out of the corner of his eye, he watched you take note of the gauze wrapped around your bicep. The bleeding stopped a while ago. “That wanderer missed your artery by a hair,” Sylus drawled, and your confused gaze met his cold look, “Your luck never ceases to amaze me.” Then he stood, your confusion morphing into panic, “Let Mephisto know if you need anything.”

“Sylus, wait—” You outstretched your hand, the bandaged one, and immediately hissed in pain. Sylus froze, but like before, remained where he stood, “How long have I been out?”

His lip twitched. “Three hours now,” A beat, then he was reaching into his pocket, “Here.” Your phone bounced against the mattress at your feet, and Sylus watched you pick up the shattered screen. Wincing, you turned it on, and he quietly studied your distress.

“I’m sorry,” You began softly, but Sylus forced his eyes to the floor. He couldn’t stand the guilt in your eyes, “I got so caught up I didn’t—”

His raised hand cut you short, “Don’t.” And he turned away sharply, “Just focus on resting.” The lump in his throat was difficult to swallow around, so he grabbed the leftover whiskey and rushed out.

Cooling down with some vinyl records had been his first instinct. Dusting them off, running his fingers over the plastic covers, then finally settling on just one. Fretting over their display was a nervous habit of his, his go-to when he needed a distraction. But it proved too difficult to position the needle correctly with trembling hands, and Sylus watched the needle stutter over the grooves with a grimace. Instrumentals kicked in over the stereo quietly, but it still wasn’t enough to drown out his swirling thoughts. He should be with you right now. Tending to your every need and shushing you gently to get some rest. Instead, he hid away with his records, inhaling and exhaling to relax the tight ball in his chest. You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine.

He repeated this useless prayer to himself to prevent other thoughts—darker thoughts—from bubbling up. It didn’t work, though. “Sylus?” His eyes widened at the sound of your voice, before they suddenly narrowed in suspicion. As if on cue, Mephisto breezed to his perch in the corner of the room, and Sylus shot the crow a withering glare. So much for keeping you away from him, damn bird. Mephisto only pricked his feathers innocently in response. Your bare feet then padded across the room, but Sylus refused to turn around. You shouldn’t have to see him like this. “Sylus, would you please look at me?” You insisted again, stronger this time, “Are you angry?”

Usually, he craved your bluntness. Right now, he resented it. “I should have locked him in his cage.” Your steps drew closer, and Sylus concentrated on the spinning vinyl.

Your tired sigh gripped his heart. “I heard your voicemails,” You announced quietly, “It’s…It’s okay if you are. You have every right to be.”

It’s just so like you to put his feelings first. As if he had been the one bleeding in an alley for hours. Sylus pinched the bridge of his nose, “And if I was?” He turned to face you, finally, and noted the half-step you took back. Sylus couldn’t help the scowl that tugged at his lips, “Why aren’t you?”

You frowned at him and rubbed your arm distractedly. “I…feel bad for making you worry. I’m sorry, and I totally understand where you’re coming from.” You then tugged nervously at your clothes, avoiding his sharp gaze, “I would be angry with me too, believe me. Especially after I said I’d be more—”

Sylus couldn’t help it, a humorless laugh erupted from his bitten lips. You only stared in bewilderment as he raised a hand to cover his mouth, “Angry at you…?” He shook his head as another wave of trepidation passed through him, “You misunderstand,” Then his voice fell ominously low, “I’m not angry at you.”

Surprise gripped your expression, “I don’t understand, then. Why are you angry?”

“Why?” It was Sylus’ turn to give you a bewildered look, “Why?” The answer was so obvious, he almost felt ridiculous spelling it out for you. Through gritted teeth, he tried anyway, “Because I failed to protect you, that’s why.” That lump in his throat returned, so he promptly shut up. His words clung to the air for several moments, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off you now. A flurry of emotions overwhelmed you; perhaps you were realizing that, yes, he did fail you tonight. That realization never quite reached your eyes, though. Instead, you slowly shook your head before falling back to get comfortable on his couch.

“Come sit with me.” You patted the area next to you and watched him expectantly. Sylus stared. You always did find new ways to surprise him, somehow. He fought three wars in his head—before losing them all—and hesitantly took his place by your side. The big, bad Onychinus leader avoided your soft gaze. “What happened tonight, neither of us is to blame.” Your voice fell hush, and he didn’t need to look at you to know you saw right through him, “You can be angry, but please don’t hold a grudge.” You scooted yourself closer to take his hand in yours, and his eyes numbly flicked to your linked fingers.

“If Mephisto hadn’t found you…I didn’t know what to think.” His voice trailed off, and he swallowed thickly, “Your aether core. I couldn’t feel it.” His thumb caressed yours gently, “Fear like that isn’t easy to forget.”

Guilt brimmed in your eyes again, and he wished he hadn’t said anything. “You found me,” You began fiercely, “And I’m okay now, thanks to you. Because of you. You could never fail me.” Your words only deepened his scowl. It should never have gotten to that point in the first place. You should never have been in that position—alone. Your interlocked hands tightened, “Sylus…” Your murmur, spoken like a wish, was accompanied by a sudden warmth between your palms. He inhaled sharply as he watched your hands glow, evols linking as you resonated with his. The feeling was difficult to explain. Resonating with you blanketed him in a warmth like no other, like he was morning dew glowing under the rising sun. Like it was the first and last time he’d ever feel sunlight. You were alive. You were well. And if you harbored any ill will toward him, then resonating wouldn’t have come so naturally to you. He’s glad it did.

The resonance ended all too soon, however, and the light of your evols dimmed to nothing. Sylus’ record played softly in the silence. “Thank you,” He murmured at last, feeling calm for the first time that evening, “...And I’m sorry.” You made it difficult to stay upset. You had no idea how much power you held over him—over his mind and body alike—how easily you could mold him like putty in your precious hands. Right now, though, you guided those precious hands to his chin and looked him over properly. The dark circles, the disheveled hair, the cracked lips; you drank all of it in and let worry settle in the crease of your brow. He hid his embarrassment behind wisecracks, “Like what you see? A picture might last longer.”

You shot him a look, “You should take a shower, you’ll feel better.” Your expression then softened, and your thumb caressed the side of his smirking mouth, “But hurry, so you can join me in bed.”

He swore he felt traces of your evol smoldering within him, “Easy, kitten, you’re still recovering.”

Amusement sparkled in his ruby eyes when you abruptly pulled away, flustered, “You know what I meant!” Tsk, it was too easy sometimes. Sylus tried and failed to hide his smile before unexpectedly lifting you off the couch, “Sylus—”

“I’ve got you—yes, I do, now stop squirming,” Hanging on with your good arm, Sylus held you tighter than he’d ever done before. Letting you down would never be an option again. “Save the struggling for later, sweetie.” You merely huffed and settled into his secure embrace, but your free hand clutched his shirt just as tightly. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Morning dew, meet rising sun.

#sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #sylus x you #sylus x y/n #love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus qin #sylus l&ds #sylus lads #sylus lnd

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lilacgaby · 3 months ago

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prohero!katsuki awoke in the middle of the night to the sounds of the baby monitor. you were beside him, utterly exhausted from taking care of your newborn the entire day. so, as you moved to go sooth your baby, he gently pushed you back down, "i got it babe." he said, before walking over to the nursery.

as he walked down, he was slightly nervous. your baby was only a month old, and in that time he had never done this alone. you were always there, guiding the two of them as he rocked the baby in his arms.

but now as he eyed your baby, fussing and crying because it was the only way they knew how to communicate, he felt his instincts take over. he took the baby into his arms as gently as he could, his son almost fitting in the palms of his two hands.

he tried to coo at the baby like you did, the noises feeling odd on his voice. but after a while of rocking the baby back and forth, he decided to take his own approach. he spoke normally to him. "hey little guy, you gotta calm down so we can figure out what's wrong with ya."

it seemed to work, his son's cries turning into gurgles of interest. "yeah bud, are.. you hungry? wait you can't answer. shi---oot. shoot." he walked him down to the kitchen, getting the bottle ready like you showed him, and feeding the baby.

after getting a meal, his son started to get sleepy once more. but just like his mom, he refused to go to bed for some reason, almost forcing his eyes open.

katsuki sat in the very comfortable chair you two bought for the nursery, and continued talking to him. "you're just like your mom, stubborn. lucky i love you two."

the baby fell asleep to the sound of katsuki telling the story of the villain he fought today. "-- and it ended in me winning, like always. after all, i can't be your dad if im a loser right?" before his son fell asleep, they made a noise as if to say they agreed.

what he didn't know though, was that his storytelling had soothed you to sleep too, the baby monitor mirroring his words to you. when you awoke to his lack of presence, you went to investigate.

the sight that awaited you was adorable. your two boys were asleep, peaceful and snoring as your son settled in katsuki's chest, and katsuki settled in the backboard of his seat.

you let them sleep in a bit longer.. but not before filling up your camera roll with photos of them. after all, love for sleep and being photogenic must run in the bakugo genes right?

#AKXJJD i love. him.#lilac speaks꧂#bakugo drabble #bakugo oneshot #bakugo #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski #bakugo x you #katsuki x you #mha x you #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x reader

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punkshort · 4 days ago

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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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