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cuppajoel · 2 months ago

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Rating: E 18+ only MDNI | Pairing: modern-day! Marcus Acacius x fem!reader Word count: 1.8k CW: modern day!Marcus Acacius, light brat-tamer vibes but not really, mostly just smut, v fingering (hey! Bring back fingering!!), one (1) p slap, p pronouns, Marcus likes roleplaying?, slight anal play, Marcus spits on ittt, grinding, he calls her my lady, legal age gap, no physical description of reader apart from she has a vagina and some pubic hair?

Summary: You start being a brat about how Marcus is old and he shows you why you should respect your elders.

a/n: hey! This is the first one shot from my “Where my Lore Started” series. This is an age gap fic based on the relationship between Monica and Richard from the TV show Friends. (See here & here for my inspo) If you’d like to take part in this wee prompt/ challenge pls do and tag me so I can see where your lore started!

graphics: @saradika-graphics

tysm to @iknowisoundcrazy for beta-ing this. This is my first fic back after like 5 months and I am real nervous to start posting again and you were so kind and encouraging! <3

Read on A03 | Fic challenge | Main Masterlist

“How’d you get this one?” you trail your finger back and forth across his collarbone, your head resting on his chest, the thump thump thump of his heartbeat soothing your relaxed body.

He exhales softly, lifting his head slightly to get a better look at the healed, raised skin. “Ummm…” His chest rumbles. You can tell he’s nearly sleeping but wants to answer your questions, just because you are the one asking them. “That one was when I broke my collarbone after jumping off the peer… the water was more shallow than first expected.” He kisses your head, his worn hand trailing up and down your arm.

“Ouch…” you chuckle on an exhale, nuzzling your face into the patch of greying hair across his chest. You let your fingers trail circles around his bare upper half, noting which spots are more sensitive and which make him twitch. “You go peer diving a lot? I guess there wasn’t much else to do in Ancient Rome…” you shift, glancing up to his face with a smirk of defiance, and begin to brace for the consequence of your teasing comment.

His eyes are still closed, the greying curls crossing over themselves around his ears. A steady, soft chuckle rumbles in his chest. “Let me tell you something about Ancient Rome…” he starts muttering into your hair, the hand that was soothing your arm stopping on your hip, his grip pulsing. “You see in Ancient Rome, people at my old age would be seen as knowledgeable… respected…” Marcus rolls off his back, flipping you both so that his weight and size hovers over your own.

“I would probably be in a position of power…” He grabs your wrist and lays it above you, pinning it to the pillow. “A position of authority- a politician… a general, maybe.” He grabs the other wrist, repeating his actions and holding them together in one of his giant hands with ease. You watch as his breath becomes heavier, his pupils dilating so that his brown eyes somehow seem darker. Your breathing deepens, chest heaving up and down. You clear your throat, unable to wipe the smile off your face.

“And yooooou…” he draws back, his eyes raking down your naked form, stopping at your now stiff nipples, down to his hardening cock which rests against your stomach, and then back up to your face. “…you would be my lady, waiting for me to get home each night…” He pumps his hips slowly, the sensitive pink crown of his dick dragging across your belly button.

”And when I get home…” he releases your wrists, dragging his blunt fingernails down your forearms, down each of your shoulders and palms you heavy breasts in his hands. He stops there for a moment, feeling the weight of them before pushing them together, fitting his head snuggly between them. “You would have ached for me. You would’ve felt so empty without my mouth and cock… and I would be famished after a hard day saving the empire.”

He flattens his tongue, dragging it slowly across your right nipple before sucking and then tugging with his teeth, only to switch and repeat the action on your left. You open yourself up, pushing your breasts further into him, causing him to exhale with a chuckle.

Using his teeth he forges a path down your sternum to the softness of your stomach, his fingertips continuing to caress your ribs, hips and pelvis, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “So being the kind and considerate person that you are…” he presses a kiss to the curls of hair on the mound of your pussy. “…my lady would feed me…”

He draws his cheeks together, gathering the saliva in his mouth before spitting directly on your clit, using his middle finger to spread it around in deep, deliberate circles. Your body tenses, all feeling and concentration now pulled to your swollen bud. Your breathing deepens, as you stretch your arms further above your head, savouring this feeling.

“Marc-“

He stops, moving his fingers away from the spot where you need him the most, causing your brows to knit and a pathetic whine to fall from you. You crane your neck forward to meet his arrogant expression. You stick out your bottom lip, hoping to appeal to his charitable side. “Nuh, uh, uh, my lady… I’m the general. Let me hear you say it.”

“Please, baby…”

Smack. A tight, sudden, sting rings through your wet cunt, sending waves of warmth through your legs and hips as Marcus smacks your pussy.

“Who am I?” He demands with a deep rasp in his voice. He cocks his head to the side, his eyes twinkling sadistically, as he tries, and fails, to hide a chuckle. Asshole.

“General, please…” you exhale, raising your hips to try and meet his mouth which hovers just above you.

“Please, what, my lady? Hmmm?” He wears a shit-eatting grin. “You need to tell me what you need. You need to feed your general. I’m starving.” He places the pad of his thumb on your now pulsing clit, not moving it, just placing an even pressure. His fore and middle fingers circling your entrance but not entering. They hover and torture.

You open your eyes and shift, placing your hands on the bed behind you and pushing yourself up onto your elbows. You steady your gaze to meet the eyes of the man who’s enjoying this way too much. “General, I need you to eat me like I’m your last meal, please…”

Without a word, Marcus begins moving the pad of his thumb, side to side like a joysick. He spreads his spit all around your clit as he groups his first three fingers together and pushes them inside you. You moan from your chest, your elbows buckling from under you, your head and neck crashing into the plush pillows below.

Marcus’ thrusts are steady, not fast and not slow- almost painfully regular but they’re deep; every time he enters, he curls his fingers to reach that spot inside of you that makes your bellybutton tingle. Still holding your gaze, Marcus lowers himself so that his face hovers above your aching core. “Ohhhh she’s so pretty.” He places a wet, opened-mouthed kiss on your clit, suckling it into his mouth.

As he pulls away, he pulls at your clit with his mouth, swirling his tongue in short, lazy circles. You plant your feet on the bed, pushing off to lift your hips, trying to follow his mouth.

With his free hand, Marcus grips you hip, pushing you back down to the bed. The three fingers inside of you still, him flexing them slightly which brings a deep, hot burn, making your stomach flip. With a whine, you stop wriggling, knowing you’ll get what you need if you follow your general’s rules.

With deliberate slowness, Marcus withdraws his fingers from you, the sounds created signalling how unbelievably wet you are for this man. One at a time he sucks your wetness from his digits, eye-contact unwavering.

He hums, eyes fluttering and smile growing before scooching himself down the bed. He lays flat on his stomach, adjusting your legs so that they hook over his shoulders, and drags you by your hips closer to his mouth. “You get so fucking wet for me, my lady… you’ve made such a mess already.” His hot breath coats you, right where you need his mouth, causing you to writhe.

Marcus flattens his tongue and licks up one side of your outer pussy and down the other side. Using the grip of your hips as leverage, he pushes his face further into you. His nose brushes your clit as his tongue circles the opening of your cunt. He holds it tense, pushing and pulling it in and out of you.

You try gripping onto the sheets by your sides to keep grounded. Don’t cum yet, don’t cum yet. It’s so good that you can feel yourself clenching around his tongue. Shifting, Marcus holds your clit in between his lips and licks using the tip of his tongue. You gasp, your hands releasing the sheets and grabbing two handfuls of his hair, pushing against him more as your orgasm comes to its peak. As you clench, you roll your hips against his face. He again finds your fluttering opening, enjoying the fruits of his labour.

The earth feels like it’s stopped and like it’s moving too fast at the same time. You lift your neck to see the artist at work just as he lifts his gaze too. He gives you a wink and you feel him smile against you before returning to his feast. “Shit Marc- general…” His eyes lock to yours, dark and still full of amusement. “I don’t know if I can keep going…” you thread your fingers through his hair, pulling so that you might have a moment to recover.

His brows furrow as he gives a simple shake of his head. “I’m still hungry… one more at least my lady.” He returns licking and sucking at your clit and you tug harshly on his locks to which he quickens his pace.

Looking past him to his tight, round, ass you can see his narrow hips shifting up and down as he grinds his cock against the bed. You feel his thick, grouped fingers push slowly into you again. They’re quick and move at the same speed as his hips.

Marcus shifts, one of your legs falling from his broad shoulders as he uses the strength of his full arm to fuck his fingers into you.

“Yes, General Marcus…” you almost laugh, the heel of the foot around his shoulder digging into his back. This seems to inspire the general. Using his pinky finger, he slowly strokes the tight muscle of your asshole, causing you only to keen further into him.

Faster and faster, Marcus thrusts his fingers deep into you whilst lightly teasing your ass. You can feel his thrusts on the mattress below you, his rhythm becoming more choppy. As if you weren’t already floating, he again sucks your throbbing clit into his mouth and your ears begin to ring. Your hips raise and you push your man further into your pussy as you fall further and further into bliss.

Marcus continues to suck as you come down from your high. Then shifting, he straddles one of your legs as he strokes his swollen, weeping shaft slowly as he cums all over your spent pussy. He wets his lower lips with his tongue when he comes, savouring your taste as he brings himself to the brink.

You shift up onto your elbows once again, looking down at the mess he’s made. You now wear your own shit-eating grin that rivals the one staring back at you. You cock your head to the side and shrug softly. “Not bad for an old guy…” you let yourself fall backwards again, ready for another lesson in respecting authority.

#marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #modern day au #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu fics #fic challenge! wmls #fic!wiar #rae is writing again ; ;#the general masterlist #the general #general marcus acacius #cuppajoel!masterlist

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myownwholewildworld · 9 months ago

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masterlist

find me in ao3 | discord: arran.macleod

well, hello there! c:

i go by the name of arran in the world wide web, she/her, based in the uk and in my 30s era. i have been writing on and off for almost 20 years now on different platforms, but this is really the first time i venture into the fanfic realm in tumblr, so please be nice! >: my first language is not english but spanish, so if you spot any spelling mistakes, i apologise in advance lol

i've been obsessed with pedrito for quite a while now, so i thought ― i love writing, i love pedro, and, above everything else, i love love love drama, so why not give in and write some fics? i'm sure i'll find some like-minded people here!

i do appreciate any feedback you may want to share with me, as well as interactions (asks, reblogs, comments, likes, anything really!). also please feel free to drop me a message if there's something you would like me to write, i'm always open to suggestions ♡

please assume all my work is 18+, so mdni! do not repost, translate, nor use my work in any way without my explicit permission either.

i'll try to keep this masterlist as up to date as possible.

love,

arran xx

(find my work under the cut!)

🤭 ― fluff

😳 ― light smut

💘 ― explicit smut

💢 ― dark/sensitive theme

🤕 ― angst

🩸 ― graphic content (violence, gore, etc)

wherever you go

series masterlist - 🤭💘��🤕🩸 status: ongoing. pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. summary: after the events of 26th september 2003, you find yourself under the wing of the miller brothers. it's the older one who catches your attention, but also the one who drives you fucking crazy. you inevitably find yourself gravitating towards him while trying to navigate this postapocalyptic word you're stuck in, with more than one unpleasant surprise...

uniformed!joel one shots

series masterlist - 💘💢 status: ongoing. pairing: uniformed!joel x f!reader. summary: a series of one shots where we get to see the one and only joel miller and all his sides... as long as he's wearing a uniform, ofc. i'm open to any requests you may have, no matter how wild! check #uniformed!joel to see what's already been suggested. come along, don't be shy!

the dark series

series masterlist - 💘💢 status: ongoing. pairing: Boston QZ!joel x f!reader. summary: in a post-apocalyptic world, Joel is a man with dark urges, ones that only you can satisfy.

a man called joel

series masterlist - 🤕💢 status: tbd. pairing: jackson!joel x f!reader. summary: joel has lost everyone he held dear: sarah, tess, ellie. and while his brother still remains by his side, joel can't help but drown in the solitude of his jackson home. the rooms are too empty, too silent, so his heart is vacant. he's truly had enough of this life, given up to the point where he's decided to end his own suffering. that is until you move in next door and slowly worm your way into his life....

“you ain’t falling asleep again”

read here - 💘💢 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: oldman!jackson!joel miller x f!reader. summary: joel takes viagra and can't keep it down. he decides you can help. and the glasses stay on.

acta, non verba

series masterlist - 🤭😳💘💢🤕🩸 status: ongoing. pairing: conqueror!marcus x ofc!reader. summary: scotland, 83 AD after the battle of mons graupius. the romans have come up to the boundaries of their empire with a relentless desire to conquer the savages that inhabit the highlands. they won't rest until the Caledonian tribes are subjugated. Marcus Acacius is in charge of your clansmen's fate, but if such fate is similar to your family's, you know you need to do something about it. as the only living daughter of the tribe chief, your people look to you for leadership. power plays, treason, deception, rebellion, war, love, heartbreak, betrayal. and two souls, destined to despise each other, trying to navigate it all.

per aspera ad astra

series masterlist - 💢🤕🩸 status: ongoing. pairing: marcus acacius x emperor's daughter!reader. summary: when your husband dies in battle, his best friend is there to console you, to help you navigate your grief as he does his own. as you become close, feelings flourish. but your father, emperor Traianus, sees Marcus' romantic advances as a way to dethrone him.

love is heartbreak

read here - 🤕🤭💘 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: marcus acacius x ageless!f!reader. summary: inspired by the age of adaline. kissed by the goddess juno on your day of reckoning, you are brought back to life, condemned to wander the earth for a century. until you meet the other half of your soul who offers you the life you yearn for. but will you be strong enough to accept such promise?

the road to rome

read here - 🤕💢🤭💘 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: marcus acacius x war prisoner!f!reader. summary: Gaul, 52 BC. Julius Caesar and his bloodthirsty army have won the final battle of the Gallic Wars atop Mont Auxois, after sieging the oppidum of Alesia for more than a month. with the war coming to a bitter end, you, the daughter of the defeated Vercingetorix of the Arverni, are taken hostage. General Acacius is tasked with bringing you to Rome, letting you believe you’ll only be an entertainment to the masses. little do you know, that’s not the case at all…

the mists of avalon

read here - 🤕🤭💘 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: arthurian!marcus acacius x cursed!f!reader. summary: you've been regent to the netherworld for as long as you can remember. as the lady of the lake, you know providence will put king marcus acacius in your path. so when he invokes you, you go to him, ready to fulfill your destinies.

the way to a great wide somewhere

read here ; easter eggs - 🤭💘🤕🩸 status: completed. pairing: beast!din djarin x f!reader. summary: cursed to spend the rest of his days in Mand'alor, Din Djarin faces a threat that may break his peace: you. -or- a retelling of the beauty and the beast story.

when the moon howls

read here - 🤭 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: javier peña x f!reader. summary: you meet javier in a café during your sabbatical. you see the man that no one does ― the one who is broken, defeated, crushed by his time as a DEA agent. so you make it your purpose to shine some light on his life, one pumpkin spice latte at a time. -or- the story of how you two fall head over heels for each other c:

when the grief howls

read here - 🤭💢 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: javier peña x f!reader. same couple as "when the moon howls". can be read as a oneshot. summary: javi and you go back to yours after your idyllic pumpkin patch date and he stays over. you comfort him when his demons catch up with him.

pretty nails

read here - 💘 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: javier peña x f!reader. summary: javi pays for your manicure 😏

wicked whims

read here - 💘 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: javier peña x f!reader. (same couple as "pretty nails") summary: javi catches you playing wicked whims in the sims and decides to make your fantasies a reality.

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javierpenaispunk · 8 days ago

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Here’s a list of some my favorite fics written by very talented people. It will be updated regularly with new fics but also with some older ones as I am trying to catch up with the ones I missed.

Some fics are tagged as mature so please do not read/interact with these works if you are under 18.

If you enjoyed any of these fics as much as I did, please take a moment to send some love to the authors ♡

• Joel Miller

• Javier Peña

• Frankie Morales

• Javi Gutierrez

• Din Djarin

• Marcus Pike

• Oberyn Martell

• Dieter Bravo

• Dave York

• Agent Whiskey

• Ezra

• Max Phillips

• Lucien de Leon

• General Acacius

(More characters coming soon)

#joel miller x reader #javier peña x reader #frankie morales x reader #javi gutierrez x reader #din djarin x reader #marcus pike x reader #oberyn martell x reader #dave york x reader #dieter bravo x reader #agent whiskey x reader #ezra x reader #max phillips x reader #lucien de leon x reader #general acacius x reader #fic recs #fic recs masterlist

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burntheedges · 8 months ago

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Roll-A-Trope Challenge Masterlist

Y'all the response to this challenge blew me away!! 🥺🥰 We are going to have so many amazing fics to read! 🧡 Check here for all of the character/trope pairings from when people joined.

I'll link each one as they're posted. Under the cut you'll soon find fics for Dave York, Dieter Bravo, Din Djarin, Dio Morrissey, Ezra (Prospect), Frankie Morales, Jack Daniels, Javi Gutierrez, Javier Peña, Joel Miller, Marcus Acacius, Marcus Moreno, Marcus Pike, Max Phillips, Nathan Landry, Oberyn Martell, Pero Tovar, and Tim Rockford! And so many amazing tropes!!

Last updated: 3/29/25 | Fic count: 57!

Dave York

Audience of One by @katareyoudrilling | 3k | Dave x f!reader Trope: famous person AU

Can You Remember Who You Were? by @punkshort | 9.1k | Dave x f!reader Trope: reincarnation

Danger Zone by @almostempty | 6k | Dave x Lana Kane (you) x Sterling Archer (crossover with Archer (TV)) Trope: snowed in

Down Bad by @schnarfer | 6.1k | Dave x f!reader | part 2 Trope: only one bed (and bonus, it's a coffee shop AU!)

It's Only Make Believe by @jennaispunk | 7k | Dieter x f!actress!reader Trope: fake dating

Sunshine & Rainbows by @jeewrites | 10.1k | Dave x f!reader Trope: amnesia

Dieter Bravo

Broken Hearts Mended by @bitchesuntitled | 6.1k | Dieter x f!reader Trope: time travel

Just like the Picture by @nerdieforpedro | 936 | Dieter x gn!reader Trope: landlord

late night. by @trulybetty | 6.3k | Dieter x f!reader Trope: enemies to lovers

Teleportation and Blue Whiskey (part 1) by @davnittbraes | 1.5k | Dieter x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator

this protector by @perotovar | 3.1k | Dieter x Din Trope: only one bed

Din Djarin

Familiar yet Foreign by @whxtedreams | 3.7k | Din x f!reader Trope: fake marriage

New Home (Part 1) by @weirdoneattheparty | 2.1k | Din x f!reader Trope: friends to lovers

something worse by @corazondebeskar-reads | 3.2k | Din x f!reader Trope: enemies to lovers

The Long Way Round by @din-cognito | 3.17k | Din x gn!reader Trope: road trip

Dio Morrissey

Crimes Against Each Other by @crowandmousewritingco | 2.9k | Dio x trans!reader Trope: enemies to lovers

Ezra (Prospect)

To Leave the Green by @cas-readsandwrites | 2k | Ezra & Cee, gen Trope: time loop

Frankie Morales

a kiss, my panacea by @skittlesfics | 917 | Frankie x gn!reader Trope: sickfic

Better Love by @docharleythegeekqueen | 3.4k | Frankie x reader Trope: snowed in

Dreamers (part 1) by @beefrobeefcal | 3.4k | Frankie x reader Trope: soulmates | now with Part 2!

Forever starts tonight by @sawymredfox | 3.6k | Frankie x f!reader Trope: pining

GOING DOWN by @aurorawritestoescape | 3.4k | Frankie x f!reader and Joel x f!reader Trope: exes

I Like You A Latte by @inept-the-magnificent | 752 | Frankie x f!reader Trope: coffee shop AU

I'm Yours by @ashleyfilm | 3.2k | Frankie x reader Trope: secret relationship

To Feel Your Body Against Mine by @flightlessangelwings | 4.5k | Frankie x f!reader Trope: secret relationship

Jack Daniels

i'd give anything for more time by @penvisions | 2k | Jack x f!reader trope: time loop

If I should die before you do by @maggiemayhemnj | 1.7k | Jack x f!reader trope: soulmates

Life's a Dance by @wordywarriorwrites | 2k | Jack x reader Trope: didn't know they were dating

Lucid Dreams by @fhatbhabiee | 3.2k | Jack x reader Trope: friends to lovers

Javi Gutierrez

Things You Knew by @eff4freddie | 8k | Javi G x reader Trope: soulmates

To Make a Day for You by @yopossum | 3k? | Javi G x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator

Javier Peña

3 sides of a man by @milla-frenchy | 3.3k | Javi x f!reader Trope: secret relationship

between two floors by @glowingxeyes | 1k | Javi x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator | there’s a part 2 and 3!

GOING DOWN by @almostfoxglove | 3.3k | Javi P x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator

good guys, bad deeds by @miss-oranje-disco-dancer | 3.9k | Javi x f!reader Trope: only one bed

Joel Miller

Birds of a Feather by @whocaresstillthelouvre | 5.3k | Joel x f!reader Trope: snowed in

Besties by @butterphii | >1k | Joel x f!reader

drive by @kedsandtubesocks | 2k | Joel x f!reader Trope: road trip

For Better or Worse by @captainredspade | Joel x f!reader Trope: fake marriage

Fragile State by @galway-girlatwork | 2.5k | Joel x OFC!Tara Trope: amnesia

Galway Girl by @yxtkiwiyxt | 7k | Joel x f!reader | part 2!! Trope: soulmates

If You're Reading This by @crowandmousewritingco | 4.5k | Joel x nb!reader Trope: epistolary

It Had To Be You by @jobean12-blog | 4.8k | Joel x f!reader Trope: enemies to lovers

Wish by @hotgirlbedtimescenarios | 1.7k Trope: time travel

Marcus Acacius

Searching for the stars by @the-mandawhor1an | 2.7k | Marcus x f!reader Trope: time travel

Marcus Moreno

Through Every Lifetime by @joelalorian | 4.5k | Marcus x f!reader Trope: reincarnation

Marcus Pike

Pike's Place by @pedges-world | Marcus x reader Trope: snowed in | series!!

Max Phillips

A Little Broken by @clawdeewritesfanfic | 3.2k | Max x f!reader Trope: pining

Time After Time by @grogusmum | drabble | Max x f!reader Trope: reincarnation

Nathan Landry

consensus ad idem by @sunshinehaze1 | 4.9k | Nathan x f!reader Trope: snowed in

Oberyn Martell

sweet and sour by @iamasaddie | 5.5k | Oberyn x f!reader Trope: fake relationship

The Correspondence of the Contagious by @crowandmousewritingco | 1.4k | Oberyn x gn!reader x Ellaria Trope: epistolary

Pero Tovar

Memories made, memories lost by @avastrasposts | 7.9k | Pero x f!reader Trope: amnesia

nothing is sure by @tinytinymenace | 2.5k | Pero x OFC Trope: didn't know they were dating

Tim Rockford

|Bump in the Night| by @dc418writes | Tim x black!reader Trope: friends to lovers

Keep Quiet by @auteurdelabre | Tim x f!reader Trope: secret relationship

When Only Memories Remain by @artsy-girl-76 | 3.4k | Tim x f!reader Trope: "shop" AU

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whoredyceps · 2 months ago

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whoredyceps's masterlist

♡ a complete list of my work that stays updated ♡

all 18+ content marked with .ᐟ

⤷ Joel Miller

➯ "oh lover boy!" - a secret admirer

▸ summary: you are new to the neighborhood, and you've become friends with your neighbors— a spunky little girl and her reserved father. before long, you notice mr. miller has taken to you more than you realize. when a letter with no address ends up in your mail box, you get down to the bottom of it.

➯ "oh lover boy!" - "i can't stand you."

▸ summary: joel made the mistake of telling you he was having trouble with his generator, and you offered to help.

➯ "oh lover boy!" - "you're so full of shit." .ᐟ

▸ summary: when you confess something you've always wanted to joel, he decides to indulge.

➯ "oh lover boy!" - "stop distracting me."

▸ summary: you try to work from home with a cold, but joel isn't having any of it.

➯ "oh lover boy!" - possessive

▸ summary: you and joel spend a friday night at the bar, which ends up with bloody hands and a hospital visit.

⤷ Javier Peña

➯ "oh lover boy!" - "it's okay, i couldn't sleep anyways."

▸ summary: you're having a bad day. only one person can make you feel better, but he's in another country. you take a chance and give him a ring.

➯ "oh lover boy!" - "just stay near me. please."

▸ summary: the casino's all fun and games for you, but for javier, it's a harsh reminder that lady luck isn't always on his side.

➯ "oh lover boy!" - "i love you."

▸ summary: when the party's over, who do you call for a ride home? your good old fashioned lover boy.

➯ "oh lover boy!" - and they were roommates!

▸ summary: late night, come home. work sucks, i know. you and your roommate, javier, face the end of the day together.

➯ "oh lover boy!" - in the middle of the night

▸ summary: it's a night of mistakes from the amount of shots you do to the dialing the only number you can remember. will your ex-situationship save you, or are you destined to stumble your way home?

⤷ Oberyn Martell

➯ "oh lover boy!" - the morning after .ᐟ

▸ summary: everyone talks about their night in oberyn's bed, but they seem to leave out what happens the morning after.

➯ "oh lover boy!" - leather and lace .ᐟ

▸ summary: the sound of wedding bells are in the air! not for you and oberyn, but your sister. it's time to face the music— a place you abandoned without hesitation long ago, as you travel home for a wedding you promised to attend.

➯ "oh lover boy!" - anniversary .ᐟ

▸ summary: it's been five years since you first found yourself in the prince of dorne's bedchamber. you have something special planned for oberyn, and he's more than happy to celebrate the best way he knows how.

➯ "oh lover boy!" - "we could get caught-!" .ᐟ

▸ summary: there's nothing you despise more than feasts held in the king's landing. rubbing elbows, the scrutinizing stares of those around you, everything about it. good thing oberyn's good at getting your mind off of it.

⤷ Din Djarin

➯ "oh lover boy!" - fuzzy pink handcuffs .ᐟ

▸ summary: the mandalorian is on another bounty mission. he expects to find who he's looking for, not himself cuffed in your bed.

➯ "oh lover boy!" - "for you, i would."

▸ summary: your time had run out, and the bounty hunter has come to collect his target. is he ready to face the music?

➯ "oh lover boy!" - a forgotten date .ᐟ

▸ summary: the bounty hunter is good on his word— on his own terms. you try to stop holding out hope, but that's easier said than done.

➯ "oh lover boy!" - "are you sure you want to do this?"

▸ summary: the mandalorian sought refuge with you, and now it was your turn to seek refuge in him.

➯ "oh lover boy!" - "i missed you."

▸ summary: home is where the heart is, and the space cowboy returns to you after a long bounty.

➯ cataclysmal

▸ summary: you've tried everything to get a coworker to stop asking you out. not even human resources can help you. your only hope is din, who offers to play the role of an less-than-savory ex-boyfriend to get the guy off your back. will the punk tactics work?

➯ whelve

▸ summary: it's friday night, and you just want to let loose and forget about the feelings you've started to develop for your neighbor. when your friends suggest you all drop by the bar that said neighbor works at, you know you're in for a bizarre night.

⤷ Frankie Morales

➯ "oh lover boy!" - love at first sight

▸ summary: a special delivery for the catfish, in the form of heart cookies— and a baby's nap interrupted.

➯ "oh lover boy!" - puppy love

▸ summary: an easy sunday morning with two lovesick fools

➯ "oh lover boy!" - honeymooners

▸ summary: as you enjoy your tropical getaway with your new husband, you reflect on how you got there.

⤷ Marcus Acacius

➯ "oh lover boy!" - a bouquet of flowers

▸ summary: general marcus acacius returned from war donned in laurels and accolades, as he did every time he conquered another land. instead of celebrating with his men and the people of Rome, he chose to spend his time with the one he had been courting for some time now.

➯ "oh lover boy!" - good night

▸ summary: it's late, and you can't remember the last time marcus had come to bed. will one last plea work?

➯ "oh lover boy!" - love letters

▸ summary: you feel yourself going stir crazy while the general is amidst a conquest in the name of rome. when the bounties of his success are returned, you receive your own reward.

⤷ Agent Whiskey

➯ "oh lover boy!" - a blind date

▸ summary: your best friend told you to show up in your best dive bar attire on a friday night, only for her to bail. by luck— or something else— you find a handsome cowboy looking for some company.

➯ "oh lover boy!" - old wounds

▸ summary: first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes jack daniels unsure if the two of you are making the right choice.

➯ "oh lover boy!" - "i'm too sober for this."

▸ summary: the world hates to see a well-versed woman, but not jack daniels. you explain your thesis to him, but he quickly realizes he didn't go into academia for a reason...

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andy-15-07 · 3 months ago

Text

The Wedding

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female reader

Word Count: 1381

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Warnings:smut

The air crackled with anticipation as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the Palatine Hill. In the heart of Rome, amidst the grandeur of the imperial palace, preparations for the wedding of General Marcus Acacius and his beloved Y/n were in full swing.

Y/n, resplendent in a gown of ivory silk that shimmered like moonlight on water, waited nervously backstage. Her heart pounded a frantic rhythm against her ribs as she gazed at her reflection in the polished bronze mirror. Her hair, a cascade of raven tresses, was adorned with a delicate wreath of lilies, their fragrance a sweet counterpoint to the nervous flutter in her stomach.

Marcus Acacius, his armor polished to a blinding sheen, stood before the altar, his gaze fixed on the entrance, a mixture of anticipation and apprehension etched on his rugged features. He had fought countless battles, faced death countless times, but nothing, not even the roar of the Coliseum, could prepare him for the tremors that shook his very core as he awaited the arrival of his bride.

Finally, the doors of the basilica swung open, and Y/n emerged, a vision of ethereal beauty. Acacius's breath hitched. She was more breathtaking than he could have ever imagined.

The ceremony was a blend of Roman tradition and personal vows. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the murmur of prayers. Emperor Geta, his face etched with a genuine smile, officiated, his voice resonating with gravitas.

"Marcus Acacius," Geta began, his voice booming through the basilica, "do you, before these witnesses, take Y/n to be your lawfully wedded wife, to cherish her, to honor her, and to love her faithfully until death do you part?"

Acacius, his voice strong and unwavering, declared, "I do."

Geta turned to Y/n, his gaze filled with warmth. "Y/n," he intoned, "do you, before these witnesses, take Marcus Acacius to be your lawfully wedded husband, to cherish him, to honor him, and to love him faithfully until death do you part?"

Y/n, her voice trembling slightly with emotion, replied, "I do."

Geta, with a flourish, declared them husband and wife. The crowd erupted in cheers, and the strains of a joyous hymn filled the basilica. Confetti rained down, showering the newlyweds in a cascade of color.

Later that evening, within the opulent chambers of the imperial palace, the air throbbed with a sensual tension. Y/n, her wedding gown discarded, wore a simple chemise of the finest linen, its delicate fabric clinging to her curves. Marcus , his armor exchanged for a toga of midnight blue, watched her with a gaze that burned with a primal hunger.

He approached her slowly, his hands reaching out to cup her face, his thumbs gently tracing the contours of her jawline. "You are more beautiful than I ever dreamed," he whispered, his voice husky with desire.

Y/n, her breath catching in her throat, leaned into his touch, her fingers tangling in the thick strands of his dark hair. "And you, my husband," she murmured, her voice a silken caress, "are more than I ever dared to hope for."

Their lips met in a searing kiss, a desperate, yearning embrace that ignited a fire within them. Marcus pulled her close, his body pressed against hers, molding perfectly to her curves. He tasted the sweetness of her lips, the faintest hint of wine lingering on her breath.

He carried her to the four-poster bed, its silken sheets invitingly rumpled. He laid her gently upon the soft mattress, his gaze lingering on the gentle rise and fall of her breasts, the delicate curve of her hips.

He shed his toga, revealing his broad, muscular chest, his body honed by years of rigorous training. Y/n reached out, her fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, the calloused texture of his palms.

He lowered himself onto the bed beside her, his body radiating heat. His hands roamed over her, exploring every inch of her skin, eliciting shivers of pleasure that rippled through her.

He kissed her again, a slow, sensual exploration that left her breathless. His tongue traced the contours of her mouth, teasing, probing, igniting a fire within her that threatened to consume her.

He moved lower, his lips finding the sensitive skin of her neck, his breath hot against her skin. She arched against him, her body pleading for more.

He unfastened the delicate straps of her chemise, the silken fabric falling away to reveal the full glory of her breasts. He cupped them in his hands, his thumbs circling their peaks, eliciting a soft moan from her lips.

He lowered his head, his lips finding the tender flesh of her breasts, his tongue swirling around the hardened nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through her entire body.

Y/n cried out, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. He looked up at her, his eyes burning with desire, and saw the raw, unbridled passion reflected in her own.

He moved lower, his hands exploring the silken expanse of her thighs, his fingers tracing the delicate curves of her hips. She gasped, her body arching against him, her legs instinctively opening for him.

He entered her slowly, tenderly, his body filling her completely. Y/n cried out, her head thrown back, her fingers digging into the sheets.

He began to move, his strokes slow and deliberate, deepening with each thrust. Y/n moaned, her body arching against him, her hands gripping his back, urging him on.

The room filled with the sounds of their passion – the soft cries of pleasure, the rhythmic thud of their bodies moving as one. They reached for each other, their bodies entwined, their souls intertwined.

The world faded away, leaving only the intensity of their shared pleasure, the raw, primal connection that bound them together. They moved as one, their bodies a symphony of movement, a testament to the power of their love.

Finally, they reached their peak, a wave of ecstasy washing over them, leaving them breathless and spent. They lay entwined, their bodies bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, their hearts beating in unison.

He pulled her close, his arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly, as if he feared losing her. "I love you, Y/n," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.

Y/n, her head resting on his chest, replied, "I love you too, my husband."

They lay there for a long time, content in the aftermath of their passion, their love a beacon in the darkness, a promise of a lifetime of happiness together.

The next morning, the sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. Y/n stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She found herself nestled in Marcus's arms, his chest a warm, solid wall against her back.

She smiled, remembering the night before, the intensity of their passion, the way he had made her feel like the only woman in the world.

She turned in his arms, her gaze meeting his. He was already awake, his eyes filled with a tender amusement.

"Good morning, my love," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

"Good morning," she replied, her voice soft with affection.

They lay there for a while, simply enjoying each other's presence, the silence filled with the unspoken words of their love.

Finally, Marcus leaned down and kissed her, a gentle, lingering kiss that sent shivers down her spine.

"We should get up," he said, his voice a low rumble. "We have duties to attend to."

Y/n reluctantly pulled away from him, her fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. "Yes," she agreed, "but I wouldn't mind staying here with you forever."

Acacius chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Perhaps another time, my love," he said, his voice laced with a playful warning.

Y/n laughed, her heart light and carefree. She knew, with a certainty that settled deep within her soul, that their life together would be filled with joy, passion, and adventure.

As they prepared to face the day, they knew that their wedding night was just the beginning of their journey together, a journey filled with love, laughter, and the promise of a lifetime of happiness.

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theetherealbloom · 4 months ago

Text

IF THERE'S NOTHING LEFT - CH.3

Chapter Three: Where Passion Meets Insane, Where Pleasure Kisses Pain

Summary: You, a skilled healer, are brought to Rome by Senator Gracchus under the pretense of treating gladiators and Roman elites. You work with General Marcus Acacius to fight against the cruel reign of the twin emperors. Through danger and shared hope, your connection becomes a source of strength as you both dream of freeing Rome.

Paring: General Marcus Acacius x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, ANGST, Fluff, SMUT, HEAVY SMUT, Age-Gap(ish), Ancient Rome, Canon-Typical Violence, Gladiators, Blood, Gore, Romance, Politics, Alternate Universe, Eventual SMUT, Slavery, Sexism, Misogyny, Guilt, PTSD, Rebellion, Empires, (Very Light) Strangers-to-Enemies-to-Friends-to-Lovers, Crowds, Shouting, Animals, Duels, Loose Historical Fiction, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, Virgin Reader, PWP,

Word Count: 6.6k

A/N: I was like… HRMMMM, do I write more canon plot or… and then I realized what was gonna happen in the next few chapters LMAO so here’s a little smut breather and very little plot. HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO YA’LL!! Hope you are all safe and warm!

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: “Slut!” (Taylor’s Version) (From the Vault) By Taylor Swift

gif by @pedrohub

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist |Main Masterlist|

LUCILLA'S VILLA – NIGHTFALL

The taste of his kiss lingered on your lips, intoxicating and relentless, as if Marcus had poured every unspoken thought, every repressed feeling into the way his mouth moved against yours. His words echoed in your mind—I’d burn the world to ash just to feel the heat of you. It sent a shiver coursing down your spine, igniting something deep within, something you couldn’t deny any longer.

His hands, rough from years of battle, cupped your face as if you were something delicate. But there was no gentleness in the way he kissed you now, no hesitation in the way he pressed his body against yours, backing you against the cool stone wall. The chill of the marble was a stark contrast to the feverish heat building between you, and it stole your breath, made your head spin.

“Tell me to stop,” Marcus murmured against your lips, though his hands betrayed him, sliding down your sides, mapping every curve with reverence. His voice was raw, his breath heavy. “Tell me, and I will.”

But you didn’t want him to stop. The storm of emotions you’d been carrying—the fear, the anger, the longing—crashed over you, and for once, you let yourself drown. You pulled him closer, your fingers twisting in the fabric of his tunic, desperate to feel the solidness of him beneath your touch.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered, the admission barely audible but heavy with meaning.

Marcus groaned, a low, guttural sound that reverberated through your chest, and his restraint seemed to snap. His lips found yours again, more demanding this time, his teeth grazing your lower lip before he soothed it with his tongue. Your knees threatened to buckle under the weight of it all, but his strong arm slipped around your waist, holding you steady, keeping you pressed firmly against him.

His free hand moved to the tie of your tunic, his fingers working deftly to loosen the knot. The fabric slipped from your shoulders, pooling at your feet in a whisper of silk. The cool night air kissed your bare skin, but it was nothing compared to the warmth of Marcus’s touch as his hands roamed, calloused yet gentle, reverent as they traced the curve of your spine, the dip of your waist.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed, his voice rough with awe. His forehead pressed against yours, his dark eyes searching your face as if memorizing every detail. “You don’t even realize, do you?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words were stolen by his lips, trailing a searing path down your jaw, your neck, the hollow of your throat. Each kiss was deliberate, lingering, as if he was savoring the taste of you, the feel of you. You gasped as his teeth grazed your collarbone, a sharp contrast to the softness of his tongue that followed, soothing the sting.

“Marcus…” you whispered his name, a prayer and a plea, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging just enough to make him look up at you. His gaze burned, dark and smoldering, filled with a hunger that made your breath catch.

“Say it again,” he urged, his voice a gravelly whisper. “Say my name.”

“Marcus,” you repeated, your voice trembling, and the way his name fell from your lips seemed to unravel him completely.

He lifted you effortlessly, his hands firm on your thighs as he carried you across the room. The faint flicker of the lantern cast shadows on the walls, dancing in time with the pounding of your heart. He laid you down on the soft cushions of the divan, his body covering yours in an instant, his weight grounding you, anchoring you to this moment.

The room was cloaked in the soft glow of lantern light, their flickering flames painting golden shadows over the marble walls and silk-draped furniture. Outside, the distant chirping of cicadas filled the balmy Roman night, but inside, the air was heavy, dense with an unspoken need that had simmered for too long.

Marcus knelt before you, his strong hands resting on your knees, thumbs brushing your skin with a reverence that made you shiver. His armor had been shed, and in its absence, he was entirely human—scarred, broad-shouldered, and devastatingly vulnerable in the dim light. His dark eyes, which had once commanded armies, now looked up at you with quiet devotion.

"Do not hide from me," he murmured as you instinctively tried to press your legs together. His voice, roughened by years of shouting orders in battle, softened into something low and coaxing, almost tender. With a deliberate motion, his hands slid higher, spreading your thighs once more. “Where do you think you’re going? There is nothing about you I do not wish to see. Nothing that is not worthy of my adoration.”

Heat bloomed in your cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation, as his words wrapped around you like a silk thread. “Marcus, I—” you started, but he silenced you with a kiss to the inside of your knee, then another, trailing higher with each one.

“Don’t be shy,” he said, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your thigh. “Not with me. Never with me.”

Each kiss he pressed to your skin was deliberate, each touch of his hands a quiet plea for you to trust him. “Do you know how many nights I have lain awake, tormented by the thought of you?” he murmured, his voice thick with longing. “I have fought battles, stared death in the face, but nothing has ever made my heart quake as you do. You are more than perfect—you are divine.”

Your breath hitched as his lips traveled closer to your center. His hands slid beneath you, lifting you slightly as he positioned himself, his gaze locked onto yours, unyielding in its intensity. “I’ve been wanting to taste you,” he admitted, his voice husky and low, like a prayer whispered in a temple. “To know the sweetness of you, like honeyed figs kissed by the sun.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

His answering smile was tender, his lips brushing against the crease of your thigh as he spoke. “More certain than I have ever been of anything. Let me worship you, my love.”

And then his mouth was on you, and the world around you ceased to exist. His tongue moved with slow precision, tasting, teasing, as if savoring every moment. The first deliberate stroke sent a shiver through you, your hands flying to his hair, tangling in the dark curls.

“Marcus,” you gasped, his name tumbling from your lips like a plea.

“Speak my name again,” he murmured against you, his lips curling into a smile before he kissed you there once more, his tongue delving deeper. The sounds he made—low hums of satisfaction, quiet groans of need—mixed with the sinful wetness of his mouth on you, creating a symphony that left you trembling.

“You taste of the gods’ own nectar,” he said between strokes, his voice rough yet reverent. “Do you feel how your body responds to me? Do you see how beautiful you are in this moment?”

Your legs wrapped around his broad shoulders, pulling him closer, holding him in place as your hips moved of their own accord, chasing the pleasure he so expertly provided. His strong hands gripped your thighs, his thumbs pressing into your flesh as he guided your movements, his tongue unrelenting in its worship.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice muffled but insistent, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice cracking with desperation.

“You are magnificent,” he praised, his lips glistening as he spoke. “Every part of you—every sound, every tremble, every gasp. You are shaped by the gods themselves, and I am but a humble man, unworthy of such a gift.”

His words were your undoing. The wave of pleasure built steadily, cresting higher and higher until it finally broke, crashing over you with an intensity that left you gasping for air. Your back arched, your cries echoing through the villa, shameless and unrestrained.

When you came down, Marcus was still between your thighs, pressing gentle kisses to your skin as if soothing you, his hands rubbing slow circles over your hips. He rose then, his broad form towering over you as he began to untie the fastenings of his tunic. The fabric fell away, revealing his body in its entirety—sculpted muscle, battle-worn scars, and a thick, throbbing length that left your breath hitching anew.

Your gaze faltered, nerves creeping in despite the intimacy you had just shared. “General—” you began, your voice trembling.

Marcus knelt beside you, his hand cupping your cheek as his eyes softened. “What is it, my love?”

“I…” You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. “I’ve never… I’m a virgin. My maidenhood—it’s still intact. I’ve never been with anyone before.”

A flicker of something passed over his face—surprise, perhaps, followed swiftly by understanding. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “My Carissima,” he murmured, his voice filled with quiet reverence. “You honor me with your trust. I will not hurt you, I swear it. If this is too much, if you wish for me to stop—”

“No,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “I want this. I want you. I just… I don’t know what to do.”

He smiled then, a small, reassuring smile that melted your fears. “You need only let me guide you,” he said, his lips brushing against yours. “Let me show you how deeply I cherish you.”

Positioning himself between your thighs, Marcus moved with painstaking care. His hand guided himself to your entrance, his other hand cradling your hip as he pushed forward slowly, inch by agonizing inch. The stretch was intense, the fullness overwhelming, but his murmured reassurances kept you grounded.

“You’re mine to touch,” he groaned, his voice rough with restraint as he stilled, giving you time to adjust. “And no one else’s. My Carissima, my heart, my everything.”

When you nodded, he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, building a rhythm that sent sparks of pleasure racing through you. The intensity of it all—the closeness, the way his body fit against yours—was almost too much to bear.

“You feel like heaven,” he rasped, his lips brushing against your temple as his pace quickened. “The gods themselves could not have fashioned a more perfect being.”

“Marcus,” you moaned, your nails digging into his back as the pleasure built once more. “You’re… so good. You feel so good.”

“And you,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion as he thrust deeper, “are mine. Forever.”

As your release swept over you, his followed, his body trembling as he spilled into you, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. He held you close, his forehead resting against yours as the world faded away, leaving only the two of you tangled together in the quiet aftermath of your love.

"You are everything to me," he whispered, his voice a soft rumble. "And I will spend the rest of my life proving it."

The air in your quarters was warm and hushed, the faint sounds of the countryside drifting through the open window. The two of you lay tangled together on the soft linen sheets, your head resting on Marcus’s chest, the rise and fall of his breathing a steady rhythm beneath your ear. His arms wrapped securely around you, one hand stroking lazy patterns along your back while the other cradled your hand against his heart.

It felt as though the world had paused just for the two of you. Yet, even in the quiet, questions tugged at the edges of your mind. You shifted slightly, tilting your head up to look at him.

“Marcus?” you murmured, your voice soft.

His dark eyes, softened by the glow of the nearby lantern, met yours immediately. “Yes, Carissima?”

You hesitated, unsure of how to frame the thoughts swirling in your mind. “Earlier,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “When you said… when you spoke of marrying me. Did you mean it?”

His brows furrowed, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “Of course I meant it,” he said, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “Do you think me a man who speaks empty words?”

You shook your head quickly, biting your lip. “No, it’s not that. I just… it’s hard to believe.”

Marcus shifted, propping himself up slightly on his elbow so he could better look at you. The hand on your back moved to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly over your skin. “And why is it so hard to believe, my love?”

“Because you’re… you. A celebrated general, a man of honor and renown. You’ve seen the world, led armies, stood before emperors. And I’m just…”

“You are not just anything,” he interrupted firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You are extraordinary. You are kind, brave, intelligent, and more beautiful than even the gods could have imagined. The stars themselves dim in comparison to you.”

Your cheeks flushed at his words, your fingers toying nervously with the edge of the blanket. “You make me sound like a goddess.”

“To me, you are,” he said simply.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound lightening the weight in your chest. “Marcus, you could charm the toga off anyone.”

He grinned, his hand sliding down to rest against the curve of your waist. “And yet, it is only you I wish to charm.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your smile. “Do you always speak so eloquently, or is this a skill you’ve honed just for me?”

“Only for you,” he admitted with a teasing smirk. “Though it seems my words are not enough to convince you.” His expression turned serious again, his gaze locking with yours. “Let me make it clear: I meant every word I said. I do not take such vows lightly. If you would have me, I would make you my wife, not just in words but in every sense. I would bind my life to yours, as surely as the gods bind the heavens and earth.”

Your heart swelled, his declaration filling you with a warmth you couldn’t describe. “You really mean it?”

Marcus leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I swear it,” he said softly. “I am a man of honor. And I will honor you for the rest of my days, if you’ll let me.”

You reached up to trace the line of his jaw, your fingers brushing over the faint stubble there. “You’re serious,” you said, more to yourself than to him.

“Deadly serious,” he confirmed, his lips quirking into a small smile.

For a moment, you just stared at him, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his eyes. “You’d really want to marry me?”

“By Jupiter, woman,” he said with a laugh, his head tilting back in amusement. “How many times must I say it before you believe me?”

“Well, you’ve had a long career of convincing people to follow you into battle,” you teased, unable to help yourself. “Maybe you’re just good at persuasion.”

Marcus grinned, his fingers tracing circles along your hip. “It seems I’ll need to work harder to persuade you of my love. Perhaps I should start planning the wedding now. Lucilla will help, I’m sure. She’ll insist on flowers—too many, knowing her taste.”

“Marcus!” you exclaimed, laughing as you lightly smacked his chest.

He caught your hand easily, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “What? It’s only practical. We’ll need to secure a date, find a priest…”

You shook your head, your laughter bubbling over. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me,” he said, his voice filled with warmth and certainty.

You sighed dramatically, though your smile betrayed you. “I suppose I do.”

His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. “Good,” he murmured against your hair. “Because I love you. And I’ll spend every day proving it, until there is not a soul left in Rome who doubts how much you mean to me.”

The two of you lay in silence for a while, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm embrace. Eventually, your voice broke the quiet.

“What about the villa?” you asked, a playful glint in your eye.

“What about it?” he replied, his tone light.

“I think we woke everyone within a mile,” you said, your cheeks flushing slightly at the memory.

Marcus laughed, the sound deep and rich. “Let them hear,” he said, his lips brushing against your temple. “Let them know that the gods themselves would envy what we have.”

You laughed softly, curling closer to him. “You truly are impossible.”

“And yet,” he said again, his voice low and filled with love, “I am yours. Entirely.”

You smiled against his chest, your doubts melting away in the warmth of his embrace.

The morning light streamed gently through the open window, casting a golden glow over the room. The scent of olive oil and faint lavender lingered in the air. You stirred slowly, the warmth of the sun on your face a quiet beckon to wakefulness. But what truly brought you back to consciousness was the solid, comforting weight wrapped securely around your waist.

You fluttered your eyes open, greeted by the sight of Marcus’s bare chest rising and falling steadily as he slept. His strong arm was draped over your side, holding you close to him, as if even in sleep, he couldn’t bear to let you go. The golden rays of dawn played over his tan skin, highlighting the faint lines of battle-worn scars and the softer edges of his relaxed expression.

A slow smile spread across your lips as you tilted your head slightly to take him in, his dark hair tousled, his face softened by the peace of slumber. For all his strength and stoicism, here, in the quiet sanctuary of the villa, he looked impossibly serene.

Careful not to disturb him, you shifted slightly—but not enough, it seemed. His grip around you tightened instinctively, and you heard his voice, rough with sleep, murmur against your hair.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

A laugh bubbled from you, light and soft as you turned to face him. “I didn’t realize I was trapped,” you teased, raising a brow.

His eyes opened lazily, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “You are, Carissima. And I’m afraid I cannot let you escape.”

“Oh? And what if I must escape to eat? Or bathe?”

His smirk deepened, and he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his stubble brushing against your skin in a way that made your breath hitch. “I’ve already anticipated your needs,” he murmured, his lips moving against your skin.

“Have you now?” you asked, feigning skepticism.

“I have,” he confirmed, leaning back just enough to meet your gaze. “I’ve asked the servants to prepare a bath for us. And breakfast.”

Before you could respond, your stomach grumbled loudly, breaking the intimate moment. You froze, wide-eyed, as Marcus let out a deep, rumbling laugh that vibrated through his chest.

“Ah,” he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “It seems your body agrees with me.”

You groaned, hiding your face against his chest. “How mortifying.”

“No,” he said, tilting your chin up with gentle fingers so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “How adorable.”

You gave him a playful glare. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you’re smiling,” he pointed out, his thumb brushing over the corner of your lips.

You rolled your eyes, though the warmth in your chest couldn’t be denied. “Perhaps because you spoil me.”

Marcus’s expression softened, his hand cupping your cheek. “It is no less than you deserve,” he said, his voice low and earnest.

Your heart swelled at his words, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned up to kiss him. It started soft, a gentle press of lips that carried the unspoken gratitude and affection you couldn’t quite put into words. But as his hand slid into your hair and his other arm tightened around you, the kiss deepened, a shared warmth spreading between you.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing a little heavier. His forehead rested against yours, his lips curving into a small smile. “Your smile,” he said quietly, “is brighter than the sun itself. How could I not kiss you?”

You laughed softly, your fingers tracing idle patterns along his shoulder. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

“It’s a skill,” he admitted, his tone light with humor. “One I intend to use often to keep you smiling.”

Your stomach grumbled again, and you couldn’t help but laugh, burying your face against his chest. “Perhaps we should take advantage of that breakfast you mentioned.”

“Agreed,” he said with a grin, shifting to sit up and pulling you with him.

He pressed a quick kiss to your temple as he rose, his hand sliding down to help you to your feet. “Come, Carissima. A bath awaits us, and after, I’ll ensure you’re well-fed. Today, I will spoil you completely.”

“And tomorrow?” you asked, teasing.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss. “Tomorrow, I’ll do the same. And every day after.”

Your heart felt impossibly full as you let him lead you toward the promise of warmth and comfort, his hand never letting go of yours.

LUCILLA'S VILLA, COURTYARD — DAY

The courtyard was bathed in sunlight, the warmth of the morning offset by the gentle breeze rustling through the olive trees. The scent of fresh herbs and blooming flowers mingled with the distant hum of the villa’s daily activity. Marcus held your hand firmly in his as you walked together, his presence as steady as the ground beneath your feet.

Several servants paused in their tasks to glance your way, their gazes filled with curiosity, but none dared to linger under Marcus’s protective glare. A few exchanged knowing smiles, their approval subtle but apparent.

You leaned closer to Marcus, your voice low. “They’re looking at us.”

“They will look,” he replied simply, his tone resolute. “But they will also understand. Let anyone question our bond—I will silence them with ease.”

You smiled at his fierce protectiveness, but your attention was soon drawn to the sight ahead. In the center of the courtyard sat Lucilla, resplendent in a flowing gown of pale blue, her golden hair catching the sunlight. Across from her was Macrinus, impeccably dressed and deeply engaged in conversation with the former empress.

You hesitated, your steps slowing. “Did you know they were here?” you murmured to Marcus, keeping your voice just for him.

His brow furrowed, the faintest hint of annoyance flashing in his dark eyes. “I did not, Carissima.” His gaze lingered on Macrinus, and you could almost hear the unspoken tension in his silence. “I wonder what Lucilla is plotting this time.”

As you approached, Lucilla’s sharp eyes flicked up to meet yours, her expression poised and welcoming. “Ah,” she said, her voice smooth as honey. “The villa’s esteemed healer and our dear General Acacius.” She gestured gracefully to the table. “Do join us. It is not often we are graced with such esteemed company.”

Marcus’s jaw tightened ever so slightly, but his grip on your hand remained firm as he guided you to the table. Lucilla’s greeting was pointed, her choice of words deliberate. She seemed to delight in the subtle power play, her eyes gleaming with quiet amusement as she gestured to the seat beside her.

“Good morning,” you said politely, offering a small smile as you sat. Marcus settled beside you, his movements measured and deliberate, like a lion circling its prey.

“Good morning,” Macrinus said, inclining his head toward you both. His tone was polite, though his gaze lingered a fraction too long on you before flickering uneasily to Marcus.

“Macrinus,” Marcus greeted curtly, his voice a low rumble. He did not bother to hide his displeasure at the man’s presence.

Lucilla sipped delicately from her goblet, her smile as serene as ever. “Macrinus was just sharing his thoughts on the upcoming games and his gladiators. Always such a wealth of information.”

“Indeed,” Marcus replied, his tone flat, his focus unwavering on the man before him.

Sensing the brewing tension, you leaned in slightly toward Marcus and murmured, “Play nice.”

He glanced at you, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “For you, Carissima, I will try.”

Macrinus, perhaps sensing the unspoken battle of wills, rose from his seat and bowed politely. “I should take my leave. My gladiators await.”

Lucilla stood as well, her expression betraying nothing but grace. “I’ll see you out, Macrinus.” She turned to you and Marcus, her gaze lingering for a beat longer than necessary. “Enjoy the courtyard. I’ll return shortly.”

The pair departed, leaving you and Marcus alone amidst the tranquility of the courtyard. You exhaled softly, feeling the tension dissipate with their exit.

“Did I seem too harsh?” Marcus asked after a moment, his voice quieter now, reserved just for you.

You shook your head, smiling. “Not harsh. Just… protective.”

“Good,” he said, his tone resolute. “Because protective is precisely what I mean to be.”

His fingers brushed against yours where they rested on the table, a subtle but deliberate gesture that sent warmth coursing through you.

“You must really dislike him,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Marcus huffed a small laugh, leaning closer. “I simply dislike anyone who looks at you longer than they should.”

“Jealous, General?” you asked, tilting your head to meet his gaze, your smile playful.

He smirked, the tension from earlier melting away. “I am a man, Carissima. And you are far too radiant for anyone to gaze upon without desire. My jealousy is merely… natural.”

You laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained, and Marcus leaned in to press a kiss to your temple. “Your happiness,” he murmured, “is all I care for.”

As you reached for the bowl of ripe fruit in the center of the table, your stomach growled audibly, breaking the tender moment. You froze, cheeks warming, and Marcus chuckled, a deep, rich sound that made your heart flutter.

“I see your appetite is as fierce as your wit,” he teased, plucking a honeydew slice and offering it to you.

“You’ll never let me live that down,” you said, accepting the fruit and taking a bite, the sweetness bursting on your tongue.

“Never,” he agreed, his smile softening as he watched you. “But only because I adore every part of you.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. Marcus reached for another slice, his movements unhurried and deliberate, as if there was nowhere else he’d rather be than here, with you.

“Lucilla’s plans will wait,” he said again, his voice softer now, as if solidifying his earlier declaration. “The world can plot and conspire all it likes. Right now, my only concern is you.”

The table before you was laden with fresh fruits, warm bread, honeyed figs, and steaming bowls of spiced porridge. Marcus sat beside you, closer than necessary, his every movement deliberate and steady, as if he had all the time in the world.

You reached for a piece of bread, but Marcus intercepted, plucking it from the platter himself. He smeared a generous layer of honey over it and held it to your lips, his expression unwavering.

“Open,” he commanded softly, his tone leaving little room for argument but still laced with warmth.

You arched a brow, smirking. “Am I incapable of feeding myself, General?”

“No,” he replied, his lips curling into the faintest of smiles. “But where is the pleasure in that? Let me serve you for once.”

You gave in, parting your lips to take a bite. The sweet honey melted on your tongue, and Marcus watched you intently, his gaze darkening as if committing the moment to memory.

“Perfect,” he murmured, as if to himself.

You swallowed, tilting your head at him. “You’re staring, Marcus.”

“Am I?” he asked, unabashed. His tone was rich with amusement, his eyes never leaving yours. “Forgive me, Carissima. I’ve spent a lifetime studying maps and battle strategies. I never imagined something—someone—could captivate me so utterly.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you felt a warmth that had little to do with the sun. You plucked a ripe fig from the table and held it to his lips. “Your turn, General. Or is it only the conqueror who gets to indulge?”

His smirk widened, but he leaned forward obediently, his lips brushing your fingertips as he took the fruit. The touch was deliberate, lingering, sending a shiver through you. “Bewitching,” he said after swallowing, his voice low and reverent.

“You keep saying that,” you teased, though your cheeks warmed.

“And I will say it again,” he replied, turning slightly in his seat to face you fully. “The gods and goddesses must have woven you from starlight and fire, Carissima. How else could you hold a man like me captive with just a glance?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You, Marcus? A captive? Never.”

He reached for your hand, his fingers rough but careful as they laced with yours. “Oh, but I am,” he said, his voice dipping into something almost vulnerable. “Do you think me a man who often takes what he desires for himself? My life has been devoted to duty, to others. But you… you are different. For the first time, I am conquering not for Rome, but for myself.”

Your breath caught as he leaned closer, his other hand brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “And what will you do once I am conquered?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

His lips twitched into a smile, his gaze dropping to your lips. “Cherish you,” he said simply, his voice heavy with promise.

Before you could respond, he closed the distance, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was as gentle as it was consuming. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin as if you were something fragile and precious.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he sighed softly. “You undo me, Carissima. Do you know that?”

You couldn’t help but smile, your fingers brushing against the rough stubble on his jaw. “And here I thought I was merely feeding you breakfast.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. “Breakfast, perhaps. But your very presence sustains me in ways I cannot explain.”

Your stomach growled again, breaking the moment with a comical twist. You covered your face, laughing, and Marcus threw his head back, a genuine, hearty laugh escaping him.

“I see my attentions have distracted you from more pressing needs,” he teased, reaching for another slice of honey-drizzled bread. “Eat, my love. I’ve already asked the servants to prepare more if this is not enough. You must be well-fed.”

“You’re relentless,” you said, shaking your head but smiling brightly as you accepted the bread.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple, his voice soft. “Only for you. Always for you.”

As you ate, he continued to feed you bites of fruit and bread, his gaze never straying far from your face. The affection in his every action was undeniable, and you felt your heart swell with a happiness you hadn’t thought possible.

And as the sunlight warmed the courtyard and the day unfolded, you found yourself thinking that perhaps, just perhaps, the gods had indeed had a hand in your meeting this remarkable man.

LUCILLA'S VILLA — EVENING

The quiet evening air carried the scent of lavender and olive oil from the flickering lamps. You stood in the middle of Lucilla’s villa, the cool stone beneath your bare feet grounding you. Marcus’ hand gripped yours tightly, his calloused fingers steadying both of you as you awaited the news Lucilla had summoned you for. The stillness between you felt heavy, the weight of anticipation palpable.

Lucilla stepped into the room, her hooded cloak trailing behind her like a shadow. She paused as if collecting herself, then removed her hood, revealing a face etched with worry and something deeper—a mother’s anguish. Her eyes flicked between the two of you before she looked heavenward, her lips moving silently, perhaps in a prayer to the gods for strength.

When she finally spoke, her voice was steady but thick with emotion. “Lucius is alive.”

The words struck like a thunderbolt. You inhaled sharply, your hand instinctively tightening around Marcus’. His brow furrowed deeply, the weight of her statement sinking in. “Are you certain?” he asked, his voice low and cautious.

“I know my son,” Lucilla said firmly, though her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I spoke to him tonight.” She stepped closer, her composure faltering as she added, “He may be lost to me for what I’ve done... but he lives.”

You glanced at Marcus, his jaw tight as he processed her words. His grip on your hand became almost protective, pulling you a step closer. “The third day of games is tomorrow,” he said grimly. “Most fighters won’t survive.”

Lucilla nodded, her tears now spilling freely. “Acacius, you must help him.”

Marcus’ expression hardened. “Help him?” he asked, his voice measured.

“Yes!” Lucilla exclaimed, her desperation breaking through. She looked at him imploringly, her hands trembling as she clutched at the fabric of her cloak. “I failed him then. I know I did. But I cannot fail him now.”

Marcus stood rigid, his silence heavy with conflict. “The army is in Ostia,” he began, his tone even but his words deliberate. “If we wait a few days—”

“He could be dead by then!” Lucilla interrupted, her voice cracking with urgency. She stepped closer, her hands reaching out as though trying to physically pull him toward her cause. “Acacius, I would willingly give my life for Rome, but I will not give my son’s.”

Her words hung in the air like a plea to the gods themselves.

You finally found your voice, stepping forward just slightly, your free hand reaching out to rest gently on Lucilla’s arm. “What is the plan?” you asked softly, your voice carrying the strength of someone who understood both loss and resilience.

Lucilla turned to you, her expression softening but still filled with despair. “There is no plan,” she admitted. “Only hope. Hope that you will do what I could not.”

Marcus let out a slow exhale, his eyes narrowing as he considered the weight of the task ahead. “If we are to act,” he said, his voice firm, “we act now. No hesitation, no missteps.”

You looked at him, your heart swelling with both admiration and concern. “Marcus…”

His gaze shifted to you, softening for just a moment. “I will not stand idly by while an innocent man dies,” he said, his tone resolute. “Especially not Lucius.”

Lucilla nodded, a flicker of hope returning to her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Marcus turned to you fully then, his hand releasing yours to cradle your face. “I will do this,” he said, his voice low but unyielding. “But you… you must stay safe.”

Your eyes searched his, seeing both the unshakable general and the man who had claimed your heart. “And if I said no?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

A hint of a smile tugged at his lips, though his gaze remained serious. “Then I would spend the rest of my days ensuring your safety, even if it means carrying you out of harm’s way myself.”

You couldn’t help but smile despite the weight of the moment pressing against your chest. “Then I suppose I shall try to stay out of trouble,” you said softly, though a glint of defiance sparked in your eyes. “But I will help you, Marcus, and you cannot stop me.”

His expression flickered with something between amusement and frustration, but it softened almost immediately. “Carissima,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, like honey drizzled over flame. “You are the most stubborn woman I have ever met. And I have led legions.”

His hand cradled your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. His gaze bore into yours, not with the command of a general, but with the quiet reverence of a man hopelessly, irrevocably smitten. “But I would not have you any other way,” he added, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead.

The tenderness of the moment struck you like a warm tide, soothing yet unrelenting. You closed your eyes, feeling the press of his lips against your skin, a silent promise that spoke louder than any oath.

When he pulled back, his fingers lingered for a moment, tracing the curve of your jaw before dropping to your shoulder. His touch was grounding, steadying you amidst the chaos swirling around you both.

Lucilla’s voice broke through the quiet, calling your attention back to the task ahead. Yet even as you turned to face her, your eyes found Marcus’ once more.

As the three of you moved through the villa, the air seemed charged with energy. Fear and uncertainty hung like a shroud, but beneath it all was something more profound—a determination, an unspoken bond tethering you to him.

You glanced at Marcus, the firelight dancing across his features, his profile sharp and commanding. But it wasn’t the image of the general that held your heart—it was the man beneath. The one who had whispered your name like a prayer and held you as though you were the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth.

Where passion met insanity, where pleasure kissed pain, you felt the pull of something greater, something that transcended the fleeting world of men. If the oceans roared and struck, if the Elysian Fields itself lost its light, you knew without hesitation that you would stand at his side.

You let your breath hitch for a moment, clinging to the fragile, beautiful thing you dared to call love. And in the stillness of that resolve, you tightened your grip on Marcus’ hand, silently vowing to meet whatever came with him, no matter the cost.

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