mysterious-moonstruck-musings

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Thanks for the reblog love @daydream-believer19! 💜😘

I Gave You My Heart❤️💔

One Shot (Complete) ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x f!Reader x Lucien de Leon

🎄Summary: You and Dieter attend his parents annual Christmas party where you unexpectedly run into your ex, Lucien de Leon. As events (and drama) unfold, you're soon wondering if you are making the right choice about your future.

🎁Word Count: 9.1 K

🚨Warnings: Angst, smut shenanigans, alcohol consumption, brief mentions of past drug abuse, shitty relationships, family drama, mentions of unplanned pregnancy. Dieter & Lucien come with their own warnings.

Shout out to my love, @morallyinept, for her wonderful character dialog database. It was nice to have that as a reference for this fic. 💜

I glanced at my watch. We were supposed to be leaving in twenty minutes, but Dieter hadn’t made it home yet due to being stuck in LA traffic. From the string of expletives included in his text messages with his ETA updates, I could tell he was beyond frustrated that filming had gone over schedule. 

He burst through the door of our Sherman Oaks home in a flurry, kicking his shoes off and undressing as he made his way upstairs toward the bathroom to shower. He was still covered in grime and fake blood from whatever gruesome scene he had been filming that morning. 

I followed behind him, picking up his clothes and biting back laughter as I watched his bare ass quickly disappear down the hallway into our bedroom. It wasn’t an unusual sight, but he typically didn’t move at a speed that would cause his ass cheeks to bounce the way they were. He was already in the shower when I entered, vigorously rubbing at his face and hair under the spray as he cursed about the water not warming up fast enough and making jokes that his dick was now shriveled up to the size of an almond because it was so cold. 

I shook my head and laughed as I threw his clothes into the hamper, “Dee, would you relax? I told your mom we might be a few minutes late. She was cool with it.”

He huffed loudly, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m just a little nervous. I haven’t been to one of her Christmas parties in years. There’s gonna be a lot of family there that I’ve been avoiding.” 

As I did some last-minute hair and makeup touch ups, Dieter stepped out of the shower. I glanced over at him, doing a double take as I noticed there was still a tinge of red in his hair near his temple. I pointed toward it, “You still have fake blood in your hair.”

He huffed out a quiet “fuck” as he threw his towel at me and stepped back into the shower, dumping more shampoo into his hand to scrub at the spot while he muttered expletives under his breath. 

By the time he stepped out again, I was pulling on my dress for the party. It was solid black and very fitted with a boat neckline and exceptionally low back. I could feel his eyes on me as I adjusted the straps to sit properly. His hands gripped my hips from behind and squeezed at the meaty flesh, “Well, the almond dick issue is solved. You look so fucking sexy in this. Think we have time for a quickie?”  

I scoffed jokingly, “No. We don’t, actually. Save it for later, lover boy.” 

He whined, “OK. Fine. I wanna fuck you in my old bedroom anyway. That bed has never seen any action. It’s time.” 

I rolled my eyes at him, “You’re so ridiculous.” 

He gave me a quick peck on the cheek then grinned, “I know, but that’s why you love me.”

He wasn’t wrong, I loved his playful and carefree side. He made me smile more than anyone else ever had. We acted like a couple of big kids most days, always having fun and not taking each other for granted. We had both finally reached a point where we were happy, healthy, and ready for life-long companionship. 

We had come into each other's lives at just the right time - him having hit his one-year sober anniversary and me finishing out therapy to deal with all of my childhood trauma. We met in the self-help section of a Barnes and Noble of all places. Both of us were looking for the same book with only one copy being found by him. After several minutes of looking for another one and coming up short, he offered to let me have it, but only if I gave him my phone number. I was hesitant at first, but it ended up being the best decision I had ever made. A year later we were still going strong and planning our future together. 

I could feel my nerves bubbling up as we got into the car. I hadn’t officially met his family, but I had talked to his mom several times when she would call. That didn’t make me feel any better though. 

I dug around in my purse, pulling out my phone to see if my best friend, Delia, had texted me back yet and found a notification from her.

Delia: Sorry, I’m just not feeling up to coming tonight. You two have fun. I’m sure they will all love you. 

I sighed and shoved it back in my purse. Dieter glanced at me from the driver seat, grabbing my hand to lace his fingers with mine once it was free.

“Something wrong?” he asked with furrowed brows. 

I shrugged, “I…don’t know, honestly. Delia’s been kind of weird lately. I feel like she’s avoiding me. I was really hoping she would come tonight. Having someone else there that I know would have been nice.” 

His hand tightened in mine, “She’s probably just busy…she does have that new job.”

I sighed again, “Yeah…true. Maybe you’re right.” 

He pulled my hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on my fingers, “Just relax, love. You’re letting the nerves get to you. I can tell. My mom is gonna love you…she already does.” 

I laughed nervously, “She hasn’t even met me…”

He smiled, “Doesn’t matter. She knows you make me happy and keep me outta trouble. That’s all she’s worried about.” 

We were quiet the rest of the way, but that didn’t stop Dieter from giving me reassuring hand squeezes and kisses. With him now focused on me, it seemed like his nerves had dissipated some, which was a good thing, at least. 

As we parked outside his sprawling childhood home in the Hollywood Hills, I couldn’t ignore the bad feeling taking root in my gut and I didn’t know why. I finally shook it off as he reached into the backseat to fetch the Christmas bouquet he had purchased for his mom. From the looks of it, we were some of the first guests to arrive as Dieter had planned. He wanted to spend some time with his parents before things got too hectic. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad idea.

We were greeted with smiling faces and hugs. Mr. and Mrs. Bravo were nothing but kind to me and mostly gushing about how well Dieter was doing and happy he was finally getting his life together. Dieter sat next to me with a shy smile and flushed cheeks as his mom doted on him. He would never admit it, but I knew it meant a lot to him that his parents finally saw him as something other than a failure. 

As guests began to filter in, Dieter took the opportunity to take advantage of his parents' distraction, citing that he was going to show me around. The minute he checked over his shoulder with a smirk as he pulled me upstairs by one hand, I knew what he was up to. 

We were both giggling like a couple of teenagers as he gave one last glimpse over his shoulder before pulling me into a room at the end of the hallway and locking the door behind us. It was like a time capsule. His parents had obviously not touched it since he moved out. The wall space was covered with 80’s movie and band posters. There was floor to ceiling shelves on one side of the room filled with books and old VHS tapes. It was very Dieter. 

I could feel his eyes on me as I inspected the room. I suddenly turned to meet his gaze with a mischievous smile, “So, where do you keep the dirty magazines and porn videos?” 

He snorted out a laugh, “Well…that all went with me when I moved out…buuut, I used to keep them buried at the back of the closet…in one of the many boxes labeled as comics.” 

I chuckled, “That sounds about like what I expected.” 

He suddenly pulled me into his arms and smiled against my lips, “We probably need to be fast, so mom doesn't get suspicious.”

His lips trailed down my neck as he backed me up against the dresser. I laughed before responding with a conspiratorial tone, “We can’t have that now, can we? She might ground you from your video games.” 

He groaned against my shoulder before spinning me to face the dresser, meeting my gaze in the mirror as his fingertips ghosted down the exposed skin of my back. I could already feel the arousal drenching my underwear as his thirsty eyes drank me up. His hands moved to the straps of my dress, slipping them over my shoulders, allowing the dress to slide down my body and pool on the floor at my feet. 

He licked his bottom lip as one hand reached around to gently knead at my breast, then pinched the nipple between his fingers. I moaned quietly at the sensation, leaning back against him as I grasped his hand and raised it to my mouth, sucking on his middle and index finger before placing them at my center. He wasted no time pulling my underwear aside to rub at the small bundle of nerves, eliciting a much louder moan from me. He chuckled against my ear, “Imma need you to be quiet, love. These walls are thin. Never know when somebody might walk by.” 

His fingers dipped lower, first one, then two disappearing inside of me to expertly massage at that blissful spot that he knew so well. I gripped his arm with one hand, while the other tangled in his messy curls. 

He hummed against my ear in that deep baritone voice of his, “So wet already, you’re always ready for me, aren’t ya honey?”

I nodded; my head dropped back against his shoulder as my eyes pinched shut. 

“Oh no, love. Keep your eyes on me.” 

My eyes met his reflection, he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he fought a smirk. He always looked so fucking sexy when he did that. I could feel his bulge pressing against my ass as he continued to work me over, grinding into me as his hot breath came faster against my ear. He had me coming undone in his arms within minutes, never taking his eyes off mine as he worked me through my release. 

He held me around the middle for support, lips grazing and nibbling at my neck until I regained my senses. I chuckled, turning my head toward him to capture his lips in a heated kiss. He pulled away slightly, just far enough that he could suck his fingers into his own mouth to taste me. All while never breaking our eye contact. I needed him immediately.

I turned in his arms, nimble fingers moving to the buttons on the front of his black dress shirt to unfasten them. He smiled down at me as I worked to remove his clothes, allowing me to take charge now. Once he was undressed, I pushed him back toward the tiny twin bed. 

“Lay down so I can fuck you like you want me to, lover boy.”  

His brown eyes rounded as he took in my words, turning giddy and scrambling onto the bed - his cock erect and bouncing as he went. I had to bite back a laugh at his excitement. His enthusiasm for sex never seemed to wane.

After he got situated, he patted at the tops of his thighs with a lopsided grin that caused his cheeks to dimple. “Alright, mount up and ride me, baby.” 

I couldn’t help chuckling as I peeled off my underwear then moved to straddle his hips. After notching him at my entrance, I quickly sank down all the way, causing his jaw to fall open from the feeling. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me in place. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re about to revert me back to my sixteen-year-old self and make me come after six seconds by doing shit like that.” 

I leaned down, giggling against his scruffy chin before placing a kiss on the bare heart shaped patch in his beard. He let out a steady controlled breath before loosening his grip and nodding for me to continue. I sat up, placing my hands on his chest for leverage and began to move. We were met with a high-pitched squeaking sound. I paused, rolling my lips together in an attempt to hold in my laughter.

Dieter huffed, “It’s not that loud…keep going.” 

I nodded and began to move again. Every time I sank down onto him - squeak, squeak, squeak. It only seemed to get louder each time. 

My right hand flew to my mouth to hold in the giggles. I couldn’t help it. 

Dieter’s eyes slid closed in defeat as he huffed out, “I guess there’s a reason this bed hasn’t seen any fucking action.” 

I finally lost it, leaning down to bury my face in his chest as I burst into laughter. My movement caused the bed to squeak again which set us both off. It continued the incessant noise as our bodies shook from the hysterics, which only served to make things worse. 

Dieter finally collected himself enough to wrap his arms around me and move to a sitting position, then twisted to hang his legs off the side of the bed. All while it continued to squeak with every movement. 

“Fuck this. I’m a big boy now. Watch me make this work.”

He stood, wrapping my legs around his waist as he did so while I tried to stifle my giggles. He moved back toward the dresser, perching me on the edge of it as he repositioned himself at my entrance and sank in. The sudden sensation of him filling me caused our chuckles to turn to a deep groan. He stood there for a moment, allowing me to adjust to the new angle.

He smiled against my lips, “See…I got this.” 

I gave him a teasing look and nodded, “Then get to it Bravo. Show me how it’s done.” 

His hips began to move, slowly at first so I could feel every inch of him sliding against me. It was already creating a delicious sensation that would soon turn me into a quivering mess in his arms. He began to snap his hips a little faster which resulted in a thumping noise from the mirror smacking against the wall. The faster he went, the louder it got, which caused me to lose it all over again. 

He stopped moving as his forehead tilted forward to lean against my shoulder, “Oh for fuck’s sake.” 

When my eyes finally met his, he was fighting a smile. “I just wanna have sneaky sex in my old bedroom, is that too much to ask?”

I snickered as I pushed at his chest for him to back away, “Ok, it’s my turn. Watch and learn.” 

I hopped down off the dresser and turned my back to him, leaning forward to place my hands on the top of the dresser to brace myself as I arched my ass toward him. I turned to look at him over my shoulder with a teasing smirk, “Mount up, lover boy.” 

He chuckled as he came up behind me, one hand grasping my hip as the other gripped the base of his cock to slide back in. I gasped at the feel of him as he leaned flush against me, lips brushing my ear as he spoke. “You think you’re such a clever girl, don’t ya.”

I nodded as his hips snapped against my ass, now panting as I muttered out some teasing words. “I know I am.”

His hands snaked around to my front, one pulling me flush against him as the other rubbed tight circles on my clit. “I guess that means you deserve to come again. Come on, love. Give me another one.” 

That was enough to send me over the edge again, causing him to grunt against my ear as my walls constricted around him. After a few more thrusts, his groans turned to soft whimpers as he spilled inside of me. His arms tightened around me as he buried his face into the top of my shoulder. We stayed like that for a couple of minutes, attempting to catch our breath and come back to reality.  

I felt his lips against my skin, placing gentle kisses before he raised his head to look at me with a blissed-out expression. “You’re so fucking perfect. I love you. Have I told you that today?”

I smiled up at him, “You have, but you can tell me that as many times as you want.” 

He captured my lips in a brief kiss before pulling out with a groan. “Lemme see if I can find something to clean you up with.” 

I stopped him, “No, leave it. I wanna keep you close tonight.” 

His brows arched as he smirked at me, “Such a dirty girl. I fucking love it.” 

I gave him a quick peck on the lips, “I know you do. Now get dressed. We’ve probably been gone too long as it is.” 

He nodded as he turned to search out his clothes, tossing me my underwear before picking up his pants. We spent a few minutes getting decent. After touching up my makeup and sorting out Dieter’s messy sex hair, we finally made our way downstairs. 

Dieter had his hands on either side of my waist as he walked closely behind me, leaning in next to my ear to whisper about how he was going to take this dress off of me again later. Neither of us paid much attention as we rounded the corner to the living room, causing us to nearly crash into a broad figure. I felt Dieter stiffen behind me as I began to murmur my apologies until my eyes met the chocolate ones peering down at me. With a smirk that was still sexy as ever, Lucien de Leon spoke in that deep raspy voice that I knew so well, “Sorry sweetheart, didn’t see you coming.” He did not seem the least bit surprised to see me.

I felt like I was going to be sick as I wondered what the hell he was doing here. I felt Dieter’s grip tighten as he pulled me closer to him, “Lucien, I thought mom said you weren’t gonna make it?” His voice sounded off, almost like it was a warning more than a question. 

Lucien shrugged as he glanced at me, “I…changed my mind.” 

Dieter sighed, now peering down at me, “I guess I should introduce you…this is my brother, Lucien.” 

Brother? What. The. Fuck. I was struggling to breathe as I gave Lucien a nervous smile, reaching my hand toward him to shake and giving him my name like it was the first time we had ever laid eyes on each other. He hesitated, still with that smirk before finally reaching out to take my hand in his to play along. 

“So, you’re the one that’s turned my brother into a good boy, ehh?” he finally said in a teasing tone. 

I gave him a tight smile, “No. Your brother did that himself. He worked for it.”

Dieter was beside me now, eyes shifting between Lucien and I with raised brows. 

Lucien gave me an amused look before his eyes shifted to his brother, “Well, good for him. I’ll be shocked if it sticks.”

Dieter scoffed, “Fuck off. You don’t know me…I’ve changed.” 

Lucien rolled his eyes in response before changing the subject. A smug look suddenly forming on his face, “I got a call back on that new Scorsese film. It’s supposed to be a big deal.”

Dieter gave him a very unimpressed stare, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m trying to care, but it’s hard. Besides, they offered me the lead and I turned it down. I have a prior commitment. I already have my Oscar, so whatever.”  

I stifled a laugh as they exchanged a cold glare. Lucien seemed to break first, “Well, I’ll let you two get back to the party. I think mom was looking for you.” 

He walked away without another word, ending the childish pissing match between them for the time being. 

Dieter huffed, “Fucking asshole. Come on.” 

After taking my hand, he pulled me through the tightly packed crowd in search of his mom. I could feel his calming warmth radiating through my skin, but mentally I was somewhere else. Ten years in the past to be specific, where I first met Lucien. 

Lucien and I had been cast as the two leads in a play at one of the local theaters. Our relationship was all consuming, passionate, and toxic. We were right for each other in so many ways, but too broken to make it work. In all the ways that he was sweet, sexy, and charming he was equally as stubborn, selfish, and sometimes cruel. Not that I had been any better. Both of us were guilty of saying things we didn’t mean to purposefully hurt the other. We really did bring out the worst parts of each other. Though I still maintain most of our problems stemmed from his constant drinking. It was only ever bad when he was drinking. It turned him into another person that I eventually learned to hate and resent.

We tried being together several times over the years. It never failed. We would randomly run into each other in some public place, immediately fall back into bed and swear to do better, but it never worked. The same issues always inevitably reared their ugly head. I willingly gave him everything, and he broke me again and again. 

Knowing our history and how easily we always found ourselves back together was igniting a fear in me. We were like magnets. It was damn near impossible for us to stay apart from each other. I ruined many good relationships for him, but I couldn’t do that now. I couldn’t do that to Dieter. 

Dieter was amazing. He was all the things that Lucien was never able to be. He was all of the best parts of Lucien plus more. Dieter gave me his love and affection so willingly. With Lucien, I had to fight for scraps. Each little morsel kept my hope alive just enough to make me believe that he loved me as much as I loved him. Those little morsels were what kept me going for years, but in the end it wasn’t enough. 

As Lucien’s star began to rise in the film industry, we finally hit a wall. He was pictured kissing some model at a Hollywood party, which made it into the tabloids, and inevitably into my hands. It was my last straw. I hadn’t seen him in person since the night I confronted him about it and ended things. He eventually became fairly well known in the film industry. It didn’t take long for him to establish his reputation as a womanizer and Hollywood fuckboy. As far as I knew, he still had that reputation, even if he was now considered to be a D-list actor. 

It was a massive effort to keep myself in the present as Dieter and I mingled with his family and friends. It didn’t help that I kept catching Lucien’s gaze from where he wandered on the outskirts of the crowd. I knew exactly where he was at all times because I could feel his eyes burning into me. It was making me anxious. I knew him and I knew he wasn’t going to make this easy on me. We had played this game too many times. 

I needed a break, so I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Upon finding a line for the downstairs bathroom, I made my way upstairs since no partygoers were permitted up there. Once I was finally alone, I let out a sigh of relief. Now focusing on my breathing to try and get my heart rate back to normal. Being away from Lucien was doing me wonders, allowing me to ground myself and fully come back to the present. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t the same person anymore. I could resist him now.

After finishing up, I opened the door to exit but was suddenly crowded backwards into the small room. My nose was assaulted with the familiar smell of Lucien's musky cologne as he turned to close and lock the door behind him. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” I hissed. 

“I need to talk to you,” he answered with pleading eyes.

I shook my head, trying to push past him. “I have nothing to say, and I can’t be here with you.”   

He held out his arm, grabbing me around the middle to stop my progress. “Baby, please. I just wanna talk, I swear.”

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest as I moved to the opposite side of the room, “Don’t call me that.” 

“Why are you with my brother?” he asked. Not even acknowledging my demand.

I let out a sardonic laugh, “I didn’t know he was your brother.” 

His brows furrowed, “How the fuck did you not know we’re brothers?”

I scoffed, “You told me your brother's name was David.”

His brows raised, “It is…legally. Didn’t he tell you that?”

I rubbed a hand down my face, “You don’t even have the same last name! How the fuck was I supposed to know?” 

He looked amused now, “You didn’t think it odd that we look so similar?” 

I let out a controlled breath, “No, I didn’t actually. I have a type, OK. I know this. I just figured you guys looked alike in the way that Elijah Wood and Daniel Radcliffe look alike…or Javier Bardem and Jeffrey Dean Morgan…or Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen.” 

He chuckled, “You do know that Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen are brothers, right?” 

I sighed, “No, I didn’t. Maybe you fuckers should keep the same last name to cut back on the confusion.” 

He was smiling at me now, “You’re still feisty I see. God, I’ve missed that.” 

I held up my hand to silence him, “Don’t say shit like that.” 

“Come on honey, you know you miss me.” That ridiculous smirk was back on his lips as I glared at him. 

“So, I take it you haven’t told my brother about me after that little stunt you pulled downstairs.” 

I rolled my eyes, “No. Not by name anyway. All he knows is that I had a problematic ex that fucked me up.”

He sucked air through his teeth, “That’s harsh. You know you can’t blame all that on me.” 

I stared at him for a beat, “No. You’re right. You just added to it and took it over the top.” 

He came closer, causing me to back up against the sink as he looked me over from head to toe. 

“You look beautiful tonight. I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you…”

I refused to look his way as he leaned in closer, “I noticed. You need to stop it before someone notices.” 

His curved nose grazed the shell of my ear. I had to force my thighs not to clench together from the contact.

“I miss you ya know? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you…but you’ve been hard to track down. Now I know why.” 

I jerked away from him, “What do you want, Lucien? Your little game isn’t gonna work this time. I’m not falling for it. I love Dieter.”

His eyes widened, “Love? Well, that’s a development. I don’t remember you saying that about any of the others.” 

I rolled my eyes, “Yes. I love him…I’m happy. We’re…getting married.” 

He scoffed, “You realize he’s been married twice already…right? This isn’t new for him.” 

That hit a nerve, and he knew it. 

“That may be true, but he wasn’t sober then. He is now. He’s got his life figured out…unlike you.” 

He feigned offense, “Hey, I went to rehab too you know. I’m trying here. Which is why I wanted to talk to you. I need to tell you I’m sorry.” 

His energy shifted. I couldn’t tell if this was another one of his games or not. I was taken off guard as he turned away from me, seeming almost pensive as he continued. 

“I know…I’m a large part of the reason that we never worked. I was emotionally unavailable, and I let what little fame I managed to gain go to my head. I broke a lot of my promises…you deserved better.”

I let out a steady breath, attempting to control my emotions. I had waited years to hear those words, eventually accepting that I never would. Yet, here we were. 

“Well, I appreciate the apology. Thank you for that.”

He gnawed at his lip for a beat before turning to meet my gaze, “Do you think…maybe we could try again?”

Anger flooded through me. He was giving me whiplash from all the different emotions he was pulling out of me in such a short time period. I shook my head, biting back a disdainful laugh. “You have got to be fucking kidding me right now.”

It was his turn to shake his head, “No. I’m not. I’m still in love with you. It was always you. I was just too stupid to see it.” 

I felt near bursting into tears, and I wasn’t sure if it was from anger, pain, or something else. “I’m not doing this with you again.” 

His brows pinched together, “You really think he can make you happy? He’s nothing but the knock off version of me. You’re attracted to him because he reminds you of me. Admit it.” 

I scoffed, “You two may look similar, but Dieter is nothing like you. He and I have connected in ways we never will. If you wanna compare…he’s the name brand version that I should have started with. You were a bad decision, a waste of my time and money, and I can’t even get a fucking refund.” 

He pursed his lips, allowing time for the words to sink in. That hit a nerve as intended.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m sure my fiancé is wondering where I am. I can’t have him finding us in here together.”  

I brushed past him to unlock and open the door. He didn’t stop me this time. I felt strangely liberated as I made my way downstairs, never having been able to deny Lucien in that way before. I wasn’t weak anymore. I was the one in control. 

It didn’t take long for me to find Dieter. His tea kettle laugh could be heard over everyone else. All I had to do was follow the sound. As I approached, he wrapped his arm around me and placed a quick kiss on the top of my head before he went back to his conversation. I loved seeing him like this. His happiness from reuniting with his family after so many years of being ostracized over his bad behavior and drug habits helped ground me.

Dieter was attentive as we continued to mingle, making sure to include me in his conversations while keeping physical contact at all times. From the way he kept glancing at me, I knew he could sense the lingering tension from my interaction with his brother. He probably just assumed it was nerves from meeting his family and hopefully didn’t suspect anything, but I knew I would have to tell him the truth. And soon. 

Though I made a point to keep my attention on Dieter, I could still sense Lucien’s presence. It seemed like the harder I tried to ignore him, the more taunting he became. He worked his way through the crowd, becoming louder and more boisterous as the evening went on. With each pass around the room, I found him getting closer and closer. Eventually, I found him chatting in the groups near us, positioning himself where he was in my direct line of sight or close enough behind me that he could brush against me in some way. His proximity was affecting me in ways I didn't want to admit. There was something sort of thrilling about our secret and his audacious behavior that was arousing. However, the moment I looked at Dieter, it all disappeared. He was my life now. He held my heart carefully. Lucien never did anything but smash it into a million pieces. 

I briefly stepped away from Dieter to grab us a bottle of water from the kitchen. As I stood with the refrigerator door open, I was surprised to feel strong hands grip my hips, then slide around my waist to pull me closer. Plump lips trailed down the curve of my neck, causing me to suck in a breath. I knew instantly who it was from the way he touched me and the feel of his mouth. My body betrayed me, reacting on instinct as it melted into his embrace. My mind finally caught up, causing me to abruptly turn and push him away. 

“What the fuck is you’re problem, Lucien?” 

His cocky grin was back, “I’m just reminding you what you’re missing, baby. I can tell; you're questioning yourself. You’re not sure what you want. I’m here to make sure you know your options.” 

I scoffed, “You’re so fucking delusional. Leave me alone.” 

I grabbed a bottle of water, then slammed the door closed as I moved away from him. Once back with Dieter, I felt distracted. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Lucien’s lips felt on my body or the way his stupid gold chains used to gently graze against my skin as he moved above me. The thoughts caused that familiar ache to form at the apex of my thighs. I hadn’t seen or sensed Lucien since leaving him in the kitchen, yet he was still having this effect on me.

I suddenly felt hot and claustrophobic at the realization. I didn’t understand what it meant. Dieter noticed, leaning in to ask if I was feeling ok as his hand rubbed soothing circles on my lower back. I nodded, “Yeah, I think I just need some air.” 

He moved to come with me, but I stopped him. “No, you stay and talk to your uncle. I’ll be fine. I’ll be right back.” 

I soon found myself on the back patio, inhaling deeply to catch my breath as the chilly night air instantly cooled my burning skin. It was a relief and allowed me to calm the storm that was brewing inside of my mind. The reaction I was having to Lucien was purely physical. It meant nothing. I didn’t love him anymore. This would feel differently if that wasn’t the case. 

Suddenly, I felt that magnetic pull. My attention was drawn to the shadows, seeing the glow of a cigarette before Lucien stepped into the light. He came closer and offered it to me. 

I shook my head, “I don’t smoke anymore.” 

He shrugged, “Suit yourself.” 

There was an awkward silence that stretched between us as he puffed away until the cigarette was done. His mood now seemed a little more somber than it had in the kitchen. 

He finally spoke, “You know…I was just watching you two together…from out here. You’re different with him…and him with you. I can tell you really care about each other…and you lean on each other for support. That’s good. I’m happy you’ve both found that.” 

I was taken aback by his words, but I couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not. 

“Maybe one day I’ll find that too. I think it would do me some good.” 

I gave him a soft smile, “It always helps to have a support system.” 

He pursed his lips in thought, “Do you remember how we used to go to the video store and rent like five movies and stay up all night to watch them in bed?” 

I nodded and smiled at the memories. It was some of our happier times together. 

“You used to get so mad at me for eating chips in the bed because of the crumbs, but then I would always find stray peanut m&m’s a week later.”

I laughed, “Chip crumbs are way worse to clean than peanut m&m’s though.” 

He nodded and chuckled, “Yeah, maybe.”

His brows furrowed, “I don’t think I’ve eaten or watched a movie in bed since you left. That was our thing. I can’t do it without you.” 

I sighed, “Lucien, don’t do this. Please.” 

He held his hands up in surrender, “Just wait. I-I-I real- I-I really have to do this…I need to get these unresolved feelings out. I fucked up. A lot. I know this. I was selfish and mentally checked out before the good parts, the house…the kids, the Christmas cards. I’m sorry for that. I just felt so much pressure about it all. I needed to accomplish too much to get us there and I didn’t think I could do it.” 

He moved in closer, cupping my cheek as he gave me that baby cow eye look that always bent me to his whim. I couldn’t move or breathe. 

“I do still love you. I meant that. I would do anything to have you back.” 

He leaned in further and paused, giving me a chance to rebuff him again, but I couldn’t. I was still frozen by him, his words, his voice, his touch…I could feel that small ember that burned for him slowly igniting into a flame as I got lost in his soulful eyes. I felt confused. I couldn’t distinguish if it was my heart or cunt talking, telling me to at least see where things go. 

When I didn’t immediately pull away, he closed the distance between us, capturing my mouth with his. His kiss was commanding, confident, and sensual. It stirred something inside me that I admit I never felt with anyone else, not even Dieter. It was feral and uninhibited in almost an unhealthy way. He broke the kiss, both of us panting as our gazes met. My resolve was quickly crumbling, and he knew it. 

That cocky smirk returned to his lips as he took my hand and pulled me toward the side of the house that was hidden in the shadows. It was like my brain had switched into autopilot, entering the submissive state that he loved so much. 

After caging me in against the side of the house, his lips crashed into mine as he dipped lower to grind his hips against me. I could feel his hard length pressing against my center, and God I wanted it. I wanted him.

His lips began to trail downward, nipping and licking down the curve of my neck.

I sighed, attempting to gain my resolve as I managed to say, “Lucien, we can’t do this. It’s wrong.” 

My actions did not match my words as my fingertips knotted in his hair and held him tighter to me. I could feel him smiling against my skin, continuing to place small kisses between his words as he responded. 

“It’s not really happening. We’re just finishing unfinished business in a parallel universe.” 

I chuckled, “You’re so fucking ridiculous.” 

His lips were hovering near mine, smiling as he replied, “I know…that’s why you love me.” 

His words made me think of Dieter. That was always his response too. Lucien’s hand reached for the left strap of my dress, beginning to lower it off my shoulder before I stopped it and forced him to meet my gaze. 

“What about your brother? Your mom? If we do this, it’s gonna hurt them. I don’t think there’s any coming back from that.” 

He shrugged, “I don’t care. They don’t matter to me. I need you in my life. Please.” 

“You think I can hurt them like that?” I asked. His spell over me was quickly fading. 

“You’ll have me, baby. It’ll be ok.” 

As my eyes drifted over his stupidly beautiful face it was now obvious to me, he hadn’t changed. Not really. He might or might not be sober, but he was still a selfish asshole who only ever thought of himself. He still had a way to go before he actually had his shit together and learned to be a better person. 

He obviously couldn’t read the shift in my mood as he leaned in to suck on my neck. 

I moved my lips closer to his ear, “You know I just had sex with your brother less than three hours ago in his old bedroom upstairs.” 

He pulled away with a confused look. “What? You wanna fuck me in my old room too?” 

He was missing the point. This isn’t me. I don’t do this anymore.

“I can still feel his cum dripping out of me. Does that not bother you?” 

His brows furrowed as he turned away and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Fucking hell, do you have to be so crass about it? That’s not exactly what I wanna be thinking about right now.” 

I scoffed, “Crass? That’s ironic coming from you…and yes. If that’s what I need to do to get my point across, then so be it. I’m not that person anymore, Lucien. I’m putting an end to this now. I will not do this to Dieter…I love him too much. I’m not ruining my life for you ever again.” 

His jaw clenched, “Who says you would be ruining your life? I’m ready to settle down and have a family, a house… all the things I promised.” 

I had to bite back a laugh, “Then why don’t you do that with one of the five women you already have kids with.”

His brows arched, “Excuse me? I only have two kids.” 

He paused and grimaced, “There may be a third one, but I’m not sure what’s happening with that, yet...” 

My mouth dropped open with that news, “Oh and when were you gonna tell me about that? You’re seriously out here professing your love to me when you’ve knocked up someone else? You’re a real piece of work. You’re obviously still a hot fucking mess. I can’t believe you seriously think you can offer me more than Dieter.” 

He laughed as he crowded my space again, “Is that what it’s about? Money?” 

I pushed him away, “Fuck you. You know that’s not what I mean. He loves me and he makes sure I know it. I don’t have to beg him for affection or an emotional connection. He gives it willingly.”

He rolled his eyes, “Right, he must not give you everything you need if you’re melting in my hands so easily.” 

We were already sliding back into old habits by slinging insults at each other. This is why we didn’t work. 

“Did you miss the part where I said we just had sex? He’s much more attentive than you ever were. I’ve never had to fake it with him.” 

I could tell that was his final straw. There was no questioning Lucien de Leon’s skill in the bedroom. In his mind, he was a sex god. He wasn’t wrong. He was fucking amazing in bed, but he didn’t need to know I thought that. 

His jaw clenched as his face flushed with anger. He looked like he was considering his next words before he spoke. Obviously deciding he was going for maximum damage. 

“I got Delia pregnant.” 

I felt like a bomb had just detonated in my face, swallowing the world around us and leaving nothing but ringing in my ears. Once I regained my senses, all I could manage to get out was a strangled, “What?” 

He had his cocky asshole smile on now, suddenly playing it casual.

“Yeah, I saw her out at a bar several months ago. I wanted to ask her about you… and we just started talking…had one too many drinks…then went back to her place and spent all night fucking. We’ve seen each other on and off a few times since then. So, yeah. I knocked up your best friend.”

I hated him. I hated him for the way he had treated me and for whatever way he was about to treat her even though she should have known better. 

I scoffed, “You’re unbelievable.”

I pushed past him to go back inside. I could hear him apologizing as he followed behind me, realizing he finally took it too far. I was telling him to ‘fuck off’ just as Dieter stepped outside. Lucien and I stopped short at the edge of the patio when we realized Dieter was there, eyes shifting between the two of us as he worked out what he was seeing. 

I sighed, my eyes closing in defeat and shame realizing there was no way to get out of it, but I didn’t want him finding out like this. 

Dieter approached; lips set into a tight line as he continued to look between us. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Lucien looked at me with wide eyes. For once in his life, he was keeping his damn mouth shut. I inhaled deeply; my mouth opened but no words came out. I didn’t know where to start. 

Dieter’s brows furrowed, “You slept with my brother…didn’t you?” 

The look on my face must have told him all he needed to know as he pursed his lips and nodded in understanding. “I mean…it’s not the first time this has happened with him and someone I was dating. So, I shouldn’t be shocked.”

I stepped closer to him, “Dieter, it was years ago. Before I knew you…I didn’t know he was your brother or else I would’ve told you. I mean…I kind of told you, but I didn’t say his name. He’s the one that fucked me up so badly.”

I could see anger flash in his eyes as he shot daggers toward Lucien, realizing all the terrible things he had done to me. “I always knew you were an asshole, but damn. You need some serious help.” 

Lucien had the audacity to look offended by that before Dieter’s attention turned back to me. “And you…how the hell did you not know he was my brother? Everybody knows that.”

I scoffed, “You told me your brother's name was Richard. And you fuckers don’t even have the same last name…You know what, I’m not having this conversation again…” 

Dieter shrugged, “His name is Richard…legally. He didn’t tell you that?”   

I huffed, rubbing at my temple, “Fucking hell, you two. Maybe you’re more alike than I realized.” 

I couldn’t help the giggle that suddenly escaped as I peered up at Lucien, “Your name is actually Dick? That’s fitting…should have stuck with it.” 

Lucien rolled his eyes, “Fuck off with that.” 

Dieter snorted out laughter as he pulled me into his side, “I love you. Your so fucking perfect.” 

I sighed in relief as our gazes met, “You’re not angry with me?” 

He shook his head, “How can I be? It was years ago. Besides, I know how he is…always been more charming than me. All the ladies fall for him at some point. At least you’ve already gotten it out of your system.”  

Lucien suddenly looked disgusted as he muttered, “I can’t fucking believe this…”

My eyes narrowed at him, “Lucien, you really need to get it together…reevaluate your life. And it sounds to me that you have someone else you need to work things out with. Do right by her, please.” 

His brows pinched together as his eyes met mine. An understanding seemed to pass between us. We were done. For good. I gave him a tight smile as I nudged Dieter toward the door to go inside. Lucien didn’t move to follow, but I could feel his eyes on us until I closed the door behind us. 

A short time later, Dieter’s mom announced the news of our engagement to everyone. She didn’t hesitate to pull us in for tight hugs as she congratulated us with a wide toothy smile. I could see Lucien in my periphery, jaw tense with a slight frown on his lips and a bottle of something in hand. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Even with all the bravado and posturing, I could tell he was hurt. I didn’t doubt that he had feelings for me, but they were never enough to make him change his ways.

After Lucien left, things felt more relaxed. Dieter and I enjoyed the rest of the evening together, smiling happily as we told his parents goodbye to head home. We soon found ourselves snuggled up on the sectional next to the fireplace as we admired our first Christmas tree. Our conversation eventually turned to Lucien and our history. I helped fill in the gaps and answer any questions Dieter had, making sure he knew I was committed to him and him alone. 

“I know he’s your brother, and it may make things harder between you two, but I can never fully forgive him for how he treated me…but I do wish him well. I hope that he can get his life together and find peace.”

Dieter sighed, “He's such an almighty fuck up. And I love him…but he makes it hard. I miss who he used to be. We used to be so close…until the Hollywood lifestyle started getting to us. Everything became a competition and we both sort of spiraled out of control in so many ways. Maybe one day…I’ll get my brother back. I can’t forgive him for everything, but I can try.”

I squeezed him a little tighter, “Maybe you should offer an olive branch? Maybe he would let you help him get sober?”

Dieter pursed his lips in thought, “Yeah…maybe…”

Lucien’s POV

As I sat and watched the love of my life and brother announce their engagement to the family, a lot of thoughts and feelings were swirling around in my head. After seeing them together, I couldn’t deny they were both happy. She had chosen the better man. I accepted it at that moment, deciding it was time to move on. 

Not wanting to stick around and further wallow in my pain, I found myself outside Delia’s small studio apartment with a fresh bottle of bourbon in hand. I had been in denial about her for weeks. After our time together I was beginning to feel…something for her. She wasn’t the one that I wanted in my future, but that didn’t mean she was a bad choice. If she decided to keep the baby, she was going to be part of my future anyway. 

We spent some time discussing things and I assured her I would be supportive if she decided to keep the baby. Personally, I wanted her to. I had a sudden urge to try and make things work with her. As I laid next to her sleeping form on the bed, staring at the small christmas tree illuminated in the corner and nursing a glass of bourbon, my phone vibrated on the nightstand. I was surprised to see that it was my brother calling. I sighed, my thumb hovering over ‘ignore’ before I finally decided to answer. 

I quickly stood, moving to the bathroom to avoid waking Delia, then answered. 

“Well, well. Hello brother. To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

I could hear Dieter suck in a breath on the other end of the line, “I uhh…just wanted to check in and make sure you’re good.” 

His words and tone stirred something inside of me. This was the old Dieter talking. The one I cared about before things went to hell between us. It caused a rush of emotions that I had to fight back, inhaling deeply to collect myself before I answered,

“Yeah, I’m good…your girl really knows how to bring a man to his knees, but I’ll live. I can see that she’s happy and that’s all that matters. I’m moving on.”

Dieter chuckled, “That she can do…but that doesn’t mean she…that we…don’t care about your wellbeing. I want you to know that. If you ever decide…to try…to wanna get sober, I wanna help you. I want us to move past all the shit we did to each other and try to be brothers again.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was shocked, but I didn’t hate the idea. Deep down, I did miss my brother. I tried to cover my emotions with a snicker, “Well, isn’t this a Christmas fucking miracle. I guess this means the Bravo brothers are back…Maybe I’ll change my name again.”

Dieter laughed, “Let’s not get too crazy now…one step at a time.”  

My brows furrowed as tears formed in the corners of my eyes, “Do you think you could uhh…send me the information for that rehab place you went to?” 

I could hear the smile in his voice, “Yeah…I’ll send it right over. If you decide you wanna go…I can…take you…if you want?”

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. I had to clear the lump in my throat before I could respond, “Uh, yeah…I think I’d like that.” 

“Amazing…well…just tell me when you’re ready and I’m there, brother.” 

He sounded like he was fighting his emotions just as much as I was. 

“I will…It was…good to talk to you.”

“You too. Merry Christmas, Lucien.”

A small smile formed on my lips, “Merry Christmas, Dieter.”

After hanging up with Dieter, I didn’t think twice before seeking out the bourbon I had arrived with and pouring it down the drain. I could feel it. This was a turning point for me. A new path that I had to choose to take because I wanted to, not because it was expected. If Dieter could do it, then so could I. It was time I moved on with my life and found happiness too. 

As I snuggled up next to Delia, I could faintly envision our future together. If she was willing to try, then so was I. Maybe she was meant to be my happy ending…with the house, the kids, and the fucking Christmas cards.

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Thanks for stopping by!

I've gotta say...the speed at which I busted this out (less than 48 hours) has to be a record. And here I was worried it wouldn't be done by Christmas. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Happy holidays!🤣

👉If you're a Dieter lover (like myself) and you're new to my work, I have lots more for you to enjoy HERE. Including my mystical Christmas fic from last year. I've also got a little Frankie thrown on the masterlist too. Happy reading!💜

Tagging those who interacted with the teaser post:

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Credits: MDNI & Support banner by @cafekitsune Christmas Lights by @strangergraphics

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Ahh yes, I almost forgot about sleazy Santa Dieter…

Paging @morallyinept for this one too. 😘

And you are very welcome @probablyreadinsmut! 💜

ofc i had to draw dieter (THE robe-wearer) as santa

fanfic idea..?

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Sigh…we didn’t get enough of him. We were robbed.

PEDRO PASCAL as MARCUS ACACIUS

Gladiator II (2024) dir. Ridley Scott

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Aww. Dieter, my love. 😔

DIeter with that one line from Beautiful Boy

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Thanks for the reblog love @i-wanna-be-your-muse! 💜😘

I Gave You My Heart❤️💔

One Shot (Complete) ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x f!Reader x Lucien de Leon

🎄Summary: You and Dieter attend his parents annual Christmas party where you unexpectedly run into your ex, Lucien de Leon. As events (and drama) unfold, you're soon wondering if you are making the right choice about your future.

🎁Word Count: 9.1 K

🚨Warnings: Angst, smut shenanigans, alcohol consumption, brief mentions of past drug abuse, shitty relationships, family drama, mentions of unplanned pregnancy. Dieter & Lucien come with their own warnings.

Shout out to my love, @morallyinept, for her wonderful character dialog database. It was nice to have that as a reference for this fic. 💜

I glanced at my watch. We were supposed to be leaving in twenty minutes, but Dieter hadn’t made it home yet due to being stuck in LA traffic. From the string of expletives included in his text messages with his ETA updates, I could tell he was beyond frustrated that filming had gone over schedule. 

He burst through the door of our Sherman Oaks home in a flurry, kicking his shoes off and undressing as he made his way upstairs toward the bathroom to shower. He was still covered in grime and fake blood from whatever gruesome scene he had been filming that morning. 

I followed behind him, picking up his clothes and biting back laughter as I watched his bare ass quickly disappear down the hallway into our bedroom. It wasn’t an unusual sight, but he typically didn’t move at a speed that would cause his ass cheeks to bounce the way they were. He was already in the shower when I entered, vigorously rubbing at his face and hair under the spray as he cursed about the water not warming up fast enough and making jokes that his dick was now shriveled up to the size of an almond because it was so cold. 

I shook my head and laughed as I threw his clothes into the hamper, “Dee, would you relax? I told your mom we might be a few minutes late. She was cool with it.”

He huffed loudly, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m just a little nervous. I haven’t been to one of her Christmas parties in years. There’s gonna be a lot of family there that I’ve been avoiding.” 

As I did some last-minute hair and makeup touch ups, Dieter stepped out of the shower. I glanced over at him, doing a double take as I noticed there was still a tinge of red in his hair near his temple. I pointed toward it, “You still have fake blood in your hair.”

He huffed out a quiet “fuck” as he threw his towel at me and stepped back into the shower, dumping more shampoo into his hand to scrub at the spot while he muttered expletives under his breath. 

By the time he stepped out again, I was pulling on my dress for the party. It was solid black and very fitted with a boat neckline and exceptionally low back. I could feel his eyes on me as I adjusted the straps to sit properly. His hands gripped my hips from behind and squeezed at the meaty flesh, “Well, the almond dick issue is solved. You look so fucking sexy in this. Think we have time for a quickie?”  

I scoffed jokingly, “No. We don’t, actually. Save it for later, lover boy.” 

He whined, “OK. Fine. I wanna fuck you in my old bedroom anyway. That bed has never seen any action. It’s time.” 

I rolled my eyes at him, “You’re so ridiculous.” 

He gave me a quick peck on the cheek then grinned, “I know, but that’s why you love me.”

He wasn’t wrong, I loved his playful and carefree side. He made me smile more than anyone else ever had. We acted like a couple of big kids most days, always having fun and not taking each other for granted. We had both finally reached a point where we were happy, healthy, and ready for life-long companionship. 

We had come into each other's lives at just the right time - him having hit his one-year sober anniversary and me finishing out therapy to deal with all of my childhood trauma. We met in the self-help section of a Barnes and Noble of all places. Both of us were looking for the same book with only one copy being found by him. After several minutes of looking for another one and coming up short, he offered to let me have it, but only if I gave him my phone number. I was hesitant at first, but it ended up being the best decision I had ever made. A year later we were still going strong and planning our future together. 

I could feel my nerves bubbling up as we got into the car. I hadn’t officially met his family, but I had talked to his mom several times when she would call. That didn’t make me feel any better though. 

I dug around in my purse, pulling out my phone to see if my best friend, Delia, had texted me back yet and found a notification from her.

Delia: Sorry, I’m just not feeling up to coming tonight. You two have fun. I’m sure they will all love you. 

I sighed and shoved it back in my purse. Dieter glanced at me from the driver seat, grabbing my hand to lace his fingers with mine once it was free.

“Something wrong?” he asked with furrowed brows. 

I shrugged, “I…don’t know, honestly. Delia’s been kind of weird lately. I feel like she’s avoiding me. I was really hoping she would come tonight. Having someone else there that I know would have been nice.” 

His hand tightened in mine, “She’s probably just busy…she does have that new job.”

I sighed again, “Yeah…true. Maybe you’re right.” 

He pulled my hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on my fingers, “Just relax, love. You’re letting the nerves get to you. I can tell. My mom is gonna love you…she already does.” 

I laughed nervously, “She hasn’t even met me…”

He smiled, “Doesn’t matter. She knows you make me happy and keep me outta trouble. That’s all she’s worried about.” 

We were quiet the rest of the way, but that didn’t stop Dieter from giving me reassuring hand squeezes and kisses. With him now focused on me, it seemed like his nerves had dissipated some, which was a good thing, at least. 

As we parked outside his sprawling childhood home in the Hollywood Hills, I couldn’t ignore the bad feeling taking root in my gut and I didn’t know why. I finally shook it off as he reached into the backseat to fetch the Christmas bouquet he had purchased for his mom. From the looks of it, we were some of the first guests to arrive as Dieter had planned. He wanted to spend some time with his parents before things got too hectic. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad idea.

We were greeted with smiling faces and hugs. Mr. and Mrs. Bravo were nothing but kind to me and mostly gushing about how well Dieter was doing and happy he was finally getting his life together. Dieter sat next to me with a shy smile and flushed cheeks as his mom doted on him. He would never admit it, but I knew it meant a lot to him that his parents finally saw him as something other than a failure. 

As guests began to filter in, Dieter took the opportunity to take advantage of his parents' distraction, citing that he was going to show me around. The minute he checked over his shoulder with a smirk as he pulled me upstairs by one hand, I knew what he was up to. 

We were both giggling like a couple of teenagers as he gave one last glimpse over his shoulder before pulling me into a room at the end of the hallway and locking the door behind us. It was like a time capsule. His parents had obviously not touched it since he moved out. The wall space was covered with 80’s movie and band posters. There was floor to ceiling shelves on one side of the room filled with books and old VHS tapes. It was very Dieter. 

I could feel his eyes on me as I inspected the room. I suddenly turned to meet his gaze with a mischievous smile, “So, where do you keep the dirty magazines and porn videos?” 

He snorted out a laugh, “Well…that all went with me when I moved out…buuut, I used to keep them buried at the back of the closet…in one of the many boxes labeled as comics.” 

I chuckled, “That sounds about like what I expected.” 

He suddenly pulled me into his arms and smiled against my lips, “We probably need to be fast, so mom doesn't get suspicious.”

His lips trailed down my neck as he backed me up against the dresser. I laughed before responding with a conspiratorial tone, “We can’t have that now, can we? She might ground you from your video games.” 

He groaned against my shoulder before spinning me to face the dresser, meeting my gaze in the mirror as his fingertips ghosted down the exposed skin of my back. I could already feel the arousal drenching my underwear as his thirsty eyes drank me up. His hands moved to the straps of my dress, slipping them over my shoulders, allowing the dress to slide down my body and pool on the floor at my feet. 

He licked his bottom lip as one hand reached around to gently knead at my breast, then pinched the nipple between his fingers. I moaned quietly at the sensation, leaning back against him as I grasped his hand and raised it to my mouth, sucking on his middle and index finger before placing them at my center. He wasted no time pulling my underwear aside to rub at the small bundle of nerves, eliciting a much louder moan from me. He chuckled against my ear, “Imma need you to be quiet, love. These walls are thin. Never know when somebody might walk by.” 

His fingers dipped lower, first one, then two disappearing inside of me to expertly massage at that blissful spot that he knew so well. I gripped his arm with one hand, while the other tangled in his messy curls. 

He hummed against my ear in that deep baritone voice of his, “So wet already, you’re always ready for me, aren’t ya honey?”

I nodded; my head dropped back against his shoulder as my eyes pinched shut. 

“Oh no, love. Keep your eyes on me.” 

My eyes met his reflection, he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he fought a smirk. He always looked so fucking sexy when he did that. I could feel his bulge pressing against my ass as he continued to work me over, grinding into me as his hot breath came faster against my ear. He had me coming undone in his arms within minutes, never taking his eyes off mine as he worked me through my release. 

He held me around the middle for support, lips grazing and nibbling at my neck until I regained my senses. I chuckled, turning my head toward him to capture his lips in a heated kiss. He pulled away slightly, just far enough that he could suck his fingers into his own mouth to taste me. All while never breaking our eye contact. I needed him immediately.

I turned in his arms, nimble fingers moving to the buttons on the front of his black dress shirt to unfasten them. He smiled down at me as I worked to remove his clothes, allowing me to take charge now. Once he was undressed, I pushed him back toward the tiny twin bed. 

“Lay down so I can fuck you like you want me to, lover boy.”  

His brown eyes rounded as he took in my words, turning giddy and scrambling onto the bed - his cock erect and bouncing as he went. I had to bite back a laugh at his excitement. His enthusiasm for sex never seemed to wane.

After he got situated, he patted at the tops of his thighs with a lopsided grin that caused his cheeks to dimple. “Alright, mount up and ride me, baby.” 

I couldn’t help chuckling as I peeled off my underwear then moved to straddle his hips. After notching him at my entrance, I quickly sank down all the way, causing his jaw to fall open from the feeling. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me in place. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re about to revert me back to my sixteen-year-old self and make me come after six seconds by doing shit like that.” 

I leaned down, giggling against his scruffy chin before placing a kiss on the bare heart shaped patch in his beard. He let out a steady controlled breath before loosening his grip and nodding for me to continue. I sat up, placing my hands on his chest for leverage and began to move. We were met with a high-pitched squeaking sound. I paused, rolling my lips together in an attempt to hold in my laughter.

Dieter huffed, “It’s not that loud…keep going.” 

I nodded and began to move again. Every time I sank down onto him - squeak, squeak, squeak. It only seemed to get louder each time. 

My right hand flew to my mouth to hold in the giggles. I couldn’t help it. 

Dieter’s eyes slid closed in defeat as he huffed out, “I guess there’s a reason this bed hasn’t seen any fucking action.” 

I finally lost it, leaning down to bury my face in his chest as I burst into laughter. My movement caused the bed to squeak again which set us both off. It continued the incessant noise as our bodies shook from the hysterics, which only served to make things worse. 

Dieter finally collected himself enough to wrap his arms around me and move to a sitting position, then twisted to hang his legs off the side of the bed. All while it continued to squeak with every movement. 

“Fuck this. I’m a big boy now. Watch me make this work.”

He stood, wrapping my legs around his waist as he did so while I tried to stifle my giggles. He moved back toward the dresser, perching me on the edge of it as he repositioned himself at my entrance and sank in. The sudden sensation of him filling me caused our chuckles to turn to a deep groan. He stood there for a moment, allowing me to adjust to the new angle.

He smiled against my lips, “See…I got this.” 

I gave him a teasing look and nodded, “Then get to it Bravo. Show me how it’s done.” 

His hips began to move, slowly at first so I could feel every inch of him sliding against me. It was already creating a delicious sensation that would soon turn me into a quivering mess in his arms. He began to snap his hips a little faster which resulted in a thumping noise from the mirror smacking against the wall. The faster he went, the louder it got, which caused me to lose it all over again. 

He stopped moving as his forehead tilted forward to lean against my shoulder, “Oh for fuck’s sake.” 

When my eyes finally met his, he was fighting a smile. “I just wanna have sneaky sex in my old bedroom, is that too much to ask?”

I snickered as I pushed at his chest for him to back away, “Ok, it’s my turn. Watch and learn.” 

I hopped down off the dresser and turned my back to him, leaning forward to place my hands on the top of the dresser to brace myself as I arched my ass toward him. I turned to look at him over my shoulder with a teasing smirk, “Mount up, lover boy.” 

He chuckled as he came up behind me, one hand grasping my hip as the other gripped the base of his cock to slide back in. I gasped at the feel of him as he leaned flush against me, lips brushing my ear as he spoke. “You think you’re such a clever girl, don’t ya.”

I nodded as his hips snapped against my ass, now panting as I muttered out some teasing words. “I know I am.”

His hands snaked around to my front, one pulling me flush against him as the other rubbed tight circles on my clit. “I guess that means you deserve to come again. Come on, love. Give me another one.” 

That was enough to send me over the edge again, causing him to grunt against my ear as my walls constricted around him. After a few more thrusts, his groans turned to soft whimpers as he spilled inside of me. His arms tightened around me as he buried his face into the top of my shoulder. We stayed like that for a couple of minutes, attempting to catch our breath and come back to reality.  

I felt his lips against my skin, placing gentle kisses before he raised his head to look at me with a blissed-out expression. “You’re so fucking perfect. I love you. Have I told you that today?”

I smiled up at him, “You have, but you can tell me that as many times as you want.” 

He captured my lips in a brief kiss before pulling out with a groan. “Lemme see if I can find something to clean you up with.” 

I stopped him, “No, leave it. I wanna keep you close tonight.” 

His brows arched as he smirked at me, “Such a dirty girl. I fucking love it.” 

I gave him a quick peck on the lips, “I know you do. Now get dressed. We’ve probably been gone too long as it is.” 

He nodded as he turned to search out his clothes, tossing me my underwear before picking up his pants. We spent a few minutes getting decent. After touching up my makeup and sorting out Dieter’s messy sex hair, we finally made our way downstairs. 

Dieter had his hands on either side of my waist as he walked closely behind me, leaning in next to my ear to whisper about how he was going to take this dress off of me again later. Neither of us paid much attention as we rounded the corner to the living room, causing us to nearly crash into a broad figure. I felt Dieter stiffen behind me as I began to murmur my apologies until my eyes met the chocolate ones peering down at me. With a smirk that was still sexy as ever, Lucien de Leon spoke in that deep raspy voice that I knew so well, “Sorry sweetheart, didn’t see you coming.” He did not seem the least bit surprised to see me.

I felt like I was going to be sick as I wondered what the hell he was doing here. I felt Dieter’s grip tighten as he pulled me closer to him, “Lucien, I thought mom said you weren’t gonna make it?” His voice sounded off, almost like it was a warning more than a question. 

Lucien shrugged as he glanced at me, “I…changed my mind.” 

Dieter sighed, now peering down at me, “I guess I should introduce you…this is my brother, Lucien.” 

Brother? What. The. Fuck. I was struggling to breathe as I gave Lucien a nervous smile, reaching my hand toward him to shake and giving him my name like it was the first time we had ever laid eyes on each other. He hesitated, still with that smirk before finally reaching out to take my hand in his to play along. 

“So, you’re the one that’s turned my brother into a good boy, ehh?” he finally said in a teasing tone. 

I gave him a tight smile, “No. Your brother did that himself. He worked for it.”

Dieter was beside me now, eyes shifting between Lucien and I with raised brows. 

Lucien gave me an amused look before his eyes shifted to his brother, “Well, good for him. I’ll be shocked if it sticks.”

Dieter scoffed, “Fuck off. You don’t know me…I’ve changed.” 

Lucien rolled his eyes in response before changing the subject. A smug look suddenly forming on his face, “I got a call back on that new Scorsese film. It’s supposed to be a big deal.”

Dieter gave him a very unimpressed stare, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m trying to care, but it’s hard. Besides, they offered me the lead and I turned it down. I have a prior commitment. I already have my Oscar, so whatever.”  

I stifled a laugh as they exchanged a cold glare. Lucien seemed to break first, “Well, I’ll let you two get back to the party. I think mom was looking for you.” 

He walked away without another word, ending the childish pissing match between them for the time being. 

Dieter huffed, “Fucking asshole. Come on.” 

After taking my hand, he pulled me through the tightly packed crowd in search of his mom. I could feel his calming warmth radiating through my skin, but mentally I was somewhere else. Ten years in the past to be specific, where I first met Lucien. 

Lucien and I had been cast as the two leads in a play at one of the local theaters. Our relationship was all consuming, passionate, and toxic. We were right for each other in so many ways, but too broken to make it work. In all the ways that he was sweet, sexy, and charming he was equally as stubborn, selfish, and sometimes cruel. Not that I had been any better. Both of us were guilty of saying things we didn’t mean to purposefully hurt the other. We really did bring out the worst parts of each other. Though I still maintain most of our problems stemmed from his constant drinking. It was only ever bad when he was drinking. It turned him into another person that I eventually learned to hate and resent.

We tried being together several times over the years. It never failed. We would randomly run into each other in some public place, immediately fall back into bed and swear to do better, but it never worked. The same issues always inevitably reared their ugly head. I willingly gave him everything, and he broke me again and again. 

Knowing our history and how easily we always found ourselves back together was igniting a fear in me. We were like magnets. It was damn near impossible for us to stay apart from each other. I ruined many good relationships for him, but I couldn’t do that now. I couldn’t do that to Dieter. 

Dieter was amazing. He was all the things that Lucien was never able to be. He was all of the best parts of Lucien plus more. Dieter gave me his love and affection so willingly. With Lucien, I had to fight for scraps. Each little morsel kept my hope alive just enough to make me believe that he loved me as much as I loved him. Those little morsels were what kept me going for years, but in the end it wasn’t enough. 

As Lucien’s star began to rise in the film industry, we finally hit a wall. He was pictured kissing some model at a Hollywood party, which made it into the tabloids, and inevitably into my hands. It was my last straw. I hadn’t seen him in person since the night I confronted him about it and ended things. He eventually became fairly well known in the film industry. It didn’t take long for him to establish his reputation as a womanizer and Hollywood fuckboy. As far as I knew, he still had that reputation, even if he was now considered to be a D-list actor. 

It was a massive effort to keep myself in the present as Dieter and I mingled with his family and friends. It didn’t help that I kept catching Lucien’s gaze from where he wandered on the outskirts of the crowd. I knew exactly where he was at all times because I could feel his eyes burning into me. It was making me anxious. I knew him and I knew he wasn’t going to make this easy on me. We had played this game too many times. 

I needed a break, so I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Upon finding a line for the downstairs bathroom, I made my way upstairs since no partygoers were permitted up there. Once I was finally alone, I let out a sigh of relief. Now focusing on my breathing to try and get my heart rate back to normal. Being away from Lucien was doing me wonders, allowing me to ground myself and fully come back to the present. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t the same person anymore. I could resist him now.

After finishing up, I opened the door to exit but was suddenly crowded backwards into the small room. My nose was assaulted with the familiar smell of Lucien's musky cologne as he turned to close and lock the door behind him. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” I hissed. 

“I need to talk to you,” he answered with pleading eyes.

I shook my head, trying to push past him. “I have nothing to say, and I can’t be here with you.”   

He held out his arm, grabbing me around the middle to stop my progress. “Baby, please. I just wanna talk, I swear.”

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest as I moved to the opposite side of the room, “Don’t call me that.” 

“Why are you with my brother?” he asked. Not even acknowledging my demand.

I let out a sardonic laugh, “I didn’t know he was your brother.” 

His brows furrowed, “How the fuck did you not know we’re brothers?”

I scoffed, “You told me your brother's name was David.”

His brows raised, “It is…legally. Didn’t he tell you that?”

I rubbed a hand down my face, “You don’t even have the same last name! How the fuck was I supposed to know?” 

He looked amused now, “You didn’t think it odd that we look so similar?” 

I let out a controlled breath, “No, I didn’t actually. I have a type, OK. I know this. I just figured you guys looked alike in the way that Elijah Wood and Daniel Radcliffe look alike…or Javier Bardem and Jeffrey Dean Morgan…or Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen.” 

He chuckled, “You do know that Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen are brothers, right?” 

I sighed, “No, I didn’t. Maybe you fuckers should keep the same last name to cut back on the confusion.” 

He was smiling at me now, “You’re still feisty I see. God, I’ve missed that.” 

I held up my hand to silence him, “Don’t say shit like that.” 

“Come on honey, you know you miss me.” That ridiculous smirk was back on his lips as I glared at him. 

“So, I take it you haven’t told my brother about me after that little stunt you pulled downstairs.” 

I rolled my eyes, “No. Not by name anyway. All he knows is that I had a problematic ex that fucked me up.”

He sucked air through his teeth, “That’s harsh. You know you can’t blame all that on me.” 

I stared at him for a beat, “No. You’re right. You just added to it and took it over the top.” 

He came closer, causing me to back up against the sink as he looked me over from head to toe. 

“You look beautiful tonight. I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you…”

I refused to look his way as he leaned in closer, “I noticed. You need to stop it before someone notices.” 

His curved nose grazed the shell of my ear. I had to force my thighs not to clench together from the contact.

“I miss you ya know? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you…but you’ve been hard to track down. Now I know why.” 

I jerked away from him, “What do you want, Lucien? Your little game isn’t gonna work this time. I’m not falling for it. I love Dieter.”

His eyes widened, “Love? Well, that’s a development. I don’t remember you saying that about any of the others.” 

I rolled my eyes, “Yes. I love him…I’m happy. We’re…getting married.” 

He scoffed, “You realize he’s been married twice already…right? This isn’t new for him.” 

That hit a nerve, and he knew it. 

“That may be true, but he wasn’t sober then. He is now. He’s got his life figured out…unlike you.” 

He feigned offense, “Hey, I went to rehab too you know. I’m trying here. Which is why I wanted to talk to you. I need to tell you I’m sorry.” 

His energy shifted. I couldn’t tell if this was another one of his games or not. I was taken off guard as he turned away from me, seeming almost pensive as he continued. 

“I know…I’m a large part of the reason that we never worked. I was emotionally unavailable, and I let what little fame I managed to gain go to my head. I broke a lot of my promises…you deserved better.”

I let out a steady breath, attempting to control my emotions. I had waited years to hear those words, eventually accepting that I never would. Yet, here we were. 

“Well, I appreciate the apology. Thank you for that.”

He gnawed at his lip for a beat before turning to meet my gaze, “Do you think…maybe we could try again?”

Anger flooded through me. He was giving me whiplash from all the different emotions he was pulling out of me in such a short time period. I shook my head, biting back a disdainful laugh. “You have got to be fucking kidding me right now.”

It was his turn to shake his head, “No. I’m not. I’m still in love with you. It was always you. I was just too stupid to see it.” 

I felt near bursting into tears, and I wasn’t sure if it was from anger, pain, or something else. “I’m not doing this with you again.” 

His brows pinched together, “You really think he can make you happy? He’s nothing but the knock off version of me. You’re attracted to him because he reminds you of me. Admit it.” 

I scoffed, “You two may look similar, but Dieter is nothing like you. He and I have connected in ways we never will. If you wanna compare…he’s the name brand version that I should have started with. You were a bad decision, a waste of my time and money, and I can’t even get a fucking refund.” 

He pursed his lips, allowing time for the words to sink in. That hit a nerve as intended.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m sure my fiancé is wondering where I am. I can’t have him finding us in here together.”  

I brushed past him to unlock and open the door. He didn’t stop me this time. I felt strangely liberated as I made my way downstairs, never having been able to deny Lucien in that way before. I wasn’t weak anymore. I was the one in control. 

It didn’t take long for me to find Dieter. His tea kettle laugh could be heard over everyone else. All I had to do was follow the sound. As I approached, he wrapped his arm around me and placed a quick kiss on the top of my head before he went back to his conversation. I loved seeing him like this. His happiness from reuniting with his family after so many years of being ostracized over his bad behavior and drug habits helped ground me.

Dieter was attentive as we continued to mingle, making sure to include me in his conversations while keeping physical contact at all times. From the way he kept glancing at me, I knew he could sense the lingering tension from my interaction with his brother. He probably just assumed it was nerves from meeting his family and hopefully didn’t suspect anything, but I knew I would have to tell him the truth. And soon. 

Though I made a point to keep my attention on Dieter, I could still sense Lucien’s presence. It seemed like the harder I tried to ignore him, the more taunting he became. He worked his way through the crowd, becoming louder and more boisterous as the evening went on. With each pass around the room, I found him getting closer and closer. Eventually, I found him chatting in the groups near us, positioning himself where he was in my direct line of sight or close enough behind me that he could brush against me in some way. His proximity was affecting me in ways I didn't want to admit. There was something sort of thrilling about our secret and his audacious behavior that was arousing. However, the moment I looked at Dieter, it all disappeared. He was my life now. He held my heart carefully. Lucien never did anything but smash it into a million pieces. 

I briefly stepped away from Dieter to grab us a bottle of water from the kitchen. As I stood with the refrigerator door open, I was surprised to feel strong hands grip my hips, then slide around my waist to pull me closer. Plump lips trailed down the curve of my neck, causing me to suck in a breath. I knew instantly who it was from the way he touched me and the feel of his mouth. My body betrayed me, reacting on instinct as it melted into his embrace. My mind finally caught up, causing me to abruptly turn and push him away. 

“What the fuck is you’re problem, Lucien?” 

His cocky grin was back, “I’m just reminding you what you’re missing, baby. I can tell; you're questioning yourself. You’re not sure what you want. I’m here to make sure you know your options.” 

I scoffed, “You’re so fucking delusional. Leave me alone.” 

I grabbed a bottle of water, then slammed the door closed as I moved away from him. Once back with Dieter, I felt distracted. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Lucien’s lips felt on my body or the way his stupid gold chains used to gently graze against my skin as he moved above me. The thoughts caused that familiar ache to form at the apex of my thighs. I hadn’t seen or sensed Lucien since leaving him in the kitchen, yet he was still having this effect on me.

I suddenly felt hot and claustrophobic at the realization. I didn’t understand what it meant. Dieter noticed, leaning in to ask if I was feeling ok as his hand rubbed soothing circles on my lower back. I nodded, “Yeah, I think I just need some air.” 

He moved to come with me, but I stopped him. “No, you stay and talk to your uncle. I’ll be fine. I’ll be right back.” 

I soon found myself on the back patio, inhaling deeply to catch my breath as the chilly night air instantly cooled my burning skin. It was a relief and allowed me to calm the storm that was brewing inside of my mind. The reaction I was having to Lucien was purely physical. It meant nothing. I didn’t love him anymore. This would feel differently if that wasn’t the case. 

Suddenly, I felt that magnetic pull. My attention was drawn to the shadows, seeing the glow of a cigarette before Lucien stepped into the light. He came closer and offered it to me. 

I shook my head, “I don’t smoke anymore.” 

He shrugged, “Suit yourself.” 

There was an awkward silence that stretched between us as he puffed away until the cigarette was done. His mood now seemed a little more somber than it had in the kitchen. 

He finally spoke, “You know…I was just watching you two together…from out here. You’re different with him…and him with you. I can tell you really care about each other…and you lean on each other for support. That’s good. I’m happy you’ve both found that.” 

I was taken aback by his words, but I couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not. 

“Maybe one day I’ll find that too. I think it would do me some good.” 

I gave him a soft smile, “It always helps to have a support system.” 

He pursed his lips in thought, “Do you remember how we used to go to the video store and rent like five movies and stay up all night to watch them in bed?” 

I nodded and smiled at the memories. It was some of our happier times together. 

“You used to get so mad at me for eating chips in the bed because of the crumbs, but then I would always find stray peanut m&m’s a week later.”

I laughed, “Chip crumbs are way worse to clean than peanut m&m’s though.” 

He nodded and chuckled, “Yeah, maybe.”

His brows furrowed, “I don’t think I’ve eaten or watched a movie in bed since you left. That was our thing. I can’t do it without you.” 

I sighed, “Lucien, don’t do this. Please.” 

He held his hands up in surrender, “Just wait. I-I-I real- I-I really have to do this…I need to get these unresolved feelings out. I fucked up. A lot. I know this. I was selfish and mentally checked out before the good parts, the house…the kids, the Christmas cards. I’m sorry for that. I just felt so much pressure about it all. I needed to accomplish too much to get us there and I didn’t think I could do it.” 

He moved in closer, cupping my cheek as he gave me that baby cow eye look that always bent me to his whim. I couldn’t move or breathe. 

“I do still love you. I meant that. I would do anything to have you back.” 

He leaned in further and paused, giving me a chance to rebuff him again, but I couldn’t. I was still frozen by him, his words, his voice, his touch…I could feel that small ember that burned for him slowly igniting into a flame as I got lost in his soulful eyes. I felt confused. I couldn’t distinguish if it was my heart or cunt talking, telling me to at least see where things go. 

When I didn’t immediately pull away, he closed the distance between us, capturing my mouth with his. His kiss was commanding, confident, and sensual. It stirred something inside me that I admit I never felt with anyone else, not even Dieter. It was feral and uninhibited in almost an unhealthy way. He broke the kiss, both of us panting as our gazes met. My resolve was quickly crumbling, and he knew it. 

That cocky smirk returned to his lips as he took my hand and pulled me toward the side of the house that was hidden in the shadows. It was like my brain had switched into autopilot, entering the submissive state that he loved so much. 

After caging me in against the side of the house, his lips crashed into mine as he dipped lower to grind his hips against me. I could feel his hard length pressing against my center, and God I wanted it. I wanted him.

His lips began to trail downward, nipping and licking down the curve of my neck.

I sighed, attempting to gain my resolve as I managed to say, “Lucien, we can’t do this. It’s wrong.” 

My actions did not match my words as my fingertips knotted in his hair and held him tighter to me. I could feel him smiling against my skin, continuing to place small kisses between his words as he responded. 

“It’s not really happening. We’re just finishing unfinished business in a parallel universe.” 

I chuckled, “You’re so fucking ridiculous.” 

His lips were hovering near mine, smiling as he replied, “I know…that’s why you love me.” 

His words made me think of Dieter. That was always his response too. Lucien’s hand reached for the left strap of my dress, beginning to lower it off my shoulder before I stopped it and forced him to meet my gaze. 

“What about your brother? Your mom? If we do this, it’s gonna hurt them. I don’t think there’s any coming back from that.” 

He shrugged, “I don’t care. They don’t matter to me. I need you in my life. Please.” 

“You think I can hurt them like that?” I asked. His spell over me was quickly fading. 

“You’ll have me, baby. It’ll be ok.” 

As my eyes drifted over his stupidly beautiful face it was now obvious to me, he hadn’t changed. Not really. He might or might not be sober, but he was still a selfish asshole who only ever thought of himself. He still had a way to go before he actually had his shit together and learned to be a better person. 

He obviously couldn’t read the shift in my mood as he leaned in to suck on my neck. 

I moved my lips closer to his ear, “You know I just had sex with your brother less than three hours ago in his old bedroom upstairs.” 

He pulled away with a confused look. “What? You wanna fuck me in my old room too?” 

He was missing the point. This isn’t me. I don’t do this anymore.

“I can still feel his cum dripping out of me. Does that not bother you?” 

His brows furrowed as he turned away and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Fucking hell, do you have to be so crass about it? That’s not exactly what I wanna be thinking about right now.” 

I scoffed, “Crass? That’s ironic coming from you…and yes. If that’s what I need to do to get my point across, then so be it. I’m not that person anymore, Lucien. I’m putting an end to this now. I will not do this to Dieter…I love him too much. I’m not ruining my life for you ever again.” 

His jaw clenched, “Who says you would be ruining your life? I’m ready to settle down and have a family, a house… all the things I promised.” 

I had to bite back a laugh, “Then why don’t you do that with one of the five women you already have kids with.”

His brows arched, “Excuse me? I only have two kids.” 

He paused and grimaced, “There may be a third one, but I’m not sure what’s happening with that, yet...” 

My mouth dropped open with that news, “Oh and when were you gonna tell me about that? You’re seriously out here professing your love to me when you’ve knocked up someone else? You’re a real piece of work. You’re obviously still a hot fucking mess. I can’t believe you seriously think you can offer me more than Dieter.” 

He laughed as he crowded my space again, “Is that what it’s about? Money?” 

I pushed him away, “Fuck you. You know that’s not what I mean. He loves me and he makes sure I know it. I don’t have to beg him for affection or an emotional connection. He gives it willingly.”

He rolled his eyes, “Right, he must not give you everything you need if you’re melting in my hands so easily.” 

We were already sliding back into old habits by slinging insults at each other. This is why we didn’t work. 

“Did you miss the part where I said we just had sex? He’s much more attentive than you ever were. I’ve never had to fake it with him.” 

I could tell that was his final straw. There was no questioning Lucien de Leon’s skill in the bedroom. In his mind, he was a sex god. He wasn’t wrong. He was fucking amazing in bed, but he didn’t need to know I thought that. 

His jaw clenched as his face flushed with anger. He looked like he was considering his next words before he spoke. Obviously deciding he was going for maximum damage. 

“I got Delia pregnant.” 

I felt like a bomb had just detonated in my face, swallowing the world around us and leaving nothing but ringing in my ears. Once I regained my senses, all I could manage to get out was a strangled, “What?” 

He had his cocky asshole smile on now, suddenly playing it casual.

“Yeah, I saw her out at a bar several months ago. I wanted to ask her about you… and we just started talking…had one too many drinks…then went back to her place and spent all night fucking. We’ve seen each other on and off a few times since then. So, yeah. I knocked up your best friend.”

I hated him. I hated him for the way he had treated me and for whatever way he was about to treat her even though she should have known better. 

I scoffed, “You’re unbelievable.”

I pushed past him to go back inside. I could hear him apologizing as he followed behind me, realizing he finally took it too far. I was telling him to ‘fuck off’ just as Dieter stepped outside. Lucien and I stopped short at the edge of the patio when we realized Dieter was there, eyes shifting between the two of us as he worked out what he was seeing. 

I sighed, my eyes closing in defeat and shame realizing there was no way to get out of it, but I didn’t want him finding out like this. 

Dieter approached; lips set into a tight line as he continued to look between us. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Lucien looked at me with wide eyes. For once in his life, he was keeping his damn mouth shut. I inhaled deeply; my mouth opened but no words came out. I didn’t know where to start. 

Dieter’s brows furrowed, “You slept with my brother…didn’t you?” 

The look on my face must have told him all he needed to know as he pursed his lips and nodded in understanding. “I mean…it’s not the first time this has happened with him and someone I was dating. So, I shouldn’t be shocked.”

I stepped closer to him, “Dieter, it was years ago. Before I knew you…I didn’t know he was your brother or else I would’ve told you. I mean…I kind of told you, but I didn’t say his name. He’s the one that fucked me up so badly.”

I could see anger flash in his eyes as he shot daggers toward Lucien, realizing all the terrible things he had done to me. “I always knew you were an asshole, but damn. You need some serious help.” 

Lucien had the audacity to look offended by that before Dieter’s attention turned back to me. “And you…how the hell did you not know he was my brother? Everybody knows that.”

I scoffed, “You told me your brother's name was Richard. And you fuckers don’t even have the same last name…You know what, I’m not having this conversation again…” 

Dieter shrugged, “His name is Richard…legally. He didn’t tell you that?”   

I huffed, rubbing at my temple, “Fucking hell, you two. Maybe you’re more alike than I realized.” 

I couldn’t help the giggle that suddenly escaped as I peered up at Lucien, “Your name is actually Dick? That’s fitting…should have stuck with it.” 

Lucien rolled his eyes, “Fuck off with that.” 

Dieter snorted out laughter as he pulled me into his side, “I love you. Your so fucking perfect.” 

I sighed in relief as our gazes met, “You’re not angry with me?” 

He shook his head, “How can I be? It was years ago. Besides, I know how he is…always been more charming than me. All the ladies fall for him at some point. At least you’ve already gotten it out of your system.”  

Lucien suddenly looked disgusted as he muttered, “I can’t fucking believe this…”

My eyes narrowed at him, “Lucien, you really need to get it together…reevaluate your life. And it sounds to me that you have someone else you need to work things out with. Do right by her, please.” 

His brows pinched together as his eyes met mine. An understanding seemed to pass between us. We were done. For good. I gave him a tight smile as I nudged Dieter toward the door to go inside. Lucien didn’t move to follow, but I could feel his eyes on us until I closed the door behind us. 

A short time later, Dieter’s mom announced the news of our engagement to everyone. She didn’t hesitate to pull us in for tight hugs as she congratulated us with a wide toothy smile. I could see Lucien in my periphery, jaw tense with a slight frown on his lips and a bottle of something in hand. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Even with all the bravado and posturing, I could tell he was hurt. I didn’t doubt that he had feelings for me, but they were never enough to make him change his ways.

After Lucien left, things felt more relaxed. Dieter and I enjoyed the rest of the evening together, smiling happily as we told his parents goodbye to head home. We soon found ourselves snuggled up on the sectional next to the fireplace as we admired our first Christmas tree. Our conversation eventually turned to Lucien and our history. I helped fill in the gaps and answer any questions Dieter had, making sure he knew I was committed to him and him alone. 

“I know he’s your brother, and it may make things harder between you two, but I can never fully forgive him for how he treated me…but I do wish him well. I hope that he can get his life together and find peace.”

Dieter sighed, “He's such an almighty fuck up. And I love him…but he makes it hard. I miss who he used to be. We used to be so close…until the Hollywood lifestyle started getting to us. Everything became a competition and we both sort of spiraled out of control in so many ways. Maybe one day…I’ll get my brother back. I can’t forgive him for everything, but I can try.”

I squeezed him a little tighter, “Maybe you should offer an olive branch? Maybe he would let you help him get sober?”

Dieter pursed his lips in thought, “Yeah…maybe…”

Lucien’s POV

As I sat and watched the love of my life and brother announce their engagement to the family, a lot of thoughts and feelings were swirling around in my head. After seeing them together, I couldn’t deny they were both happy. She had chosen the better man. I accepted it at that moment, deciding it was time to move on. 

Not wanting to stick around and further wallow in my pain, I found myself outside Delia’s small studio apartment with a fresh bottle of bourbon in hand. I had been in denial about her for weeks. After our time together I was beginning to feel…something for her. She wasn’t the one that I wanted in my future, but that didn’t mean she was a bad choice. If she decided to keep the baby, she was going to be part of my future anyway. 

We spent some time discussing things and I assured her I would be supportive if she decided to keep the baby. Personally, I wanted her to. I had a sudden urge to try and make things work with her. As I laid next to her sleeping form on the bed, staring at the small christmas tree illuminated in the corner and nursing a glass of bourbon, my phone vibrated on the nightstand. I was surprised to see that it was my brother calling. I sighed, my thumb hovering over ‘ignore’ before I finally decided to answer. 

I quickly stood, moving to the bathroom to avoid waking Delia, then answered. 

“Well, well. Hello brother. To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

I could hear Dieter suck in a breath on the other end of the line, “I uhh…just wanted to check in and make sure you’re good.” 

His words and tone stirred something inside of me. This was the old Dieter talking. The one I cared about before things went to hell between us. It caused a rush of emotions that I had to fight back, inhaling deeply to collect myself before I answered,

“Yeah, I’m good…your girl really knows how to bring a man to his knees, but I’ll live. I can see that she’s happy and that’s all that matters. I’m moving on.”

Dieter chuckled, “That she can do…but that doesn’t mean she…that we…don’t care about your wellbeing. I want you to know that. If you ever decide…to try…to wanna get sober, I wanna help you. I want us to move past all the shit we did to each other and try to be brothers again.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was shocked, but I didn’t hate the idea. Deep down, I did miss my brother. I tried to cover my emotions with a snicker, “Well, isn’t this a Christmas fucking miracle. I guess this means the Bravo brothers are back…Maybe I’ll change my name again.”

Dieter laughed, “Let’s not get too crazy now…one step at a time.”  

My brows furrowed as tears formed in the corners of my eyes, “Do you think you could uhh…send me the information for that rehab place you went to?” 

I could hear the smile in his voice, “Yeah…I’ll send it right over. If you decide you wanna go…I can…take you…if you want?”

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. I had to clear the lump in my throat before I could respond, “Uh, yeah…I think I’d like that.” 

“Amazing…well…just tell me when you’re ready and I’m there, brother.” 

He sounded like he was fighting his emotions just as much as I was. 

“I will…It was…good to talk to you.”

“You too. Merry Christmas, Lucien.”

A small smile formed on my lips, “Merry Christmas, Dieter.”

After hanging up with Dieter, I didn’t think twice before seeking out the bourbon I had arrived with and pouring it down the drain. I could feel it. This was a turning point for me. A new path that I had to choose to take because I wanted to, not because it was expected. If Dieter could do it, then so could I. It was time I moved on with my life and found happiness too. 

As I snuggled up next to Delia, I could faintly envision our future together. If she was willing to try, then so was I. Maybe she was meant to be my happy ending…with the house, the kids, and the fucking Christmas cards.

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Thanks for stopping by!

I've gotta say...the speed at which I busted this out (less than 48 hours) has to be a record. And here I was worried it wouldn't be done by Christmas. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Happy holidays!🤣

👉If you're a Dieter lover (like myself) and you're new to my work, I have lots more for you to enjoy HERE. Including my mystical Christmas fic from last year. I've also got a little Frankie thrown on the masterlist too. Happy reading!💜

Tagging those who interacted with the teaser post:

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Credits: MDNI & Support banner by @cafekitsune Christmas Lights by @strangergraphics

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Why does this do something to me though? 😮‍💨

PEDRO PASCAL as GENERAL ACACIUS Gladiator II (2024), dir. Ridley Scott

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Love! 😍😍😍

@probablyreadinsmut, you might enjoy this. It’s Dieter, buuut…close enough. 😏

ofc i had to draw dieter (THE robe-wearer) as santa

fanfic idea..?

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

I would not have been upset to see that helmet more…

the helmet was on for 3 seconds (thank god)

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

PEDRO PASCAL as General Marcus Acacius Gladiator II (2024) | dir. Ridley Scott

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Best part of the movie…the sassy bitch came out.

PEDRO PASCAL as GENERAL ACACIUS Gladiator II (2024), dir. Ridley Scott

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

I…literally…have no words…

I think this just re-wired something or like…changed my brain chemistry.

I literally held my breath at the end because I did not know how that was going to go.

Fuck. Ok. 😮‍💨💀

That’s my review. 😅

𝐈𝐈𝐈 | Marcus Acacius x Fem!Reader x Lucius Verus Aurelius | ~13k wc (woops) | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Lucius Aurelius, the stepson of wealthy and renowned architect Marcus Acacius, falls in love with you, Marcus's personal assistant. However, you're already in the midst of a tangled affair with his stepfather. (based on)

Tags: modern!au, family drama, they're both arrogant architects with egos out of this world, reasonable age gap between marcus and reader, infidelity (sorry lucilla), porn with plot, dirty talk, degradation (slut, whore), spanking, oral (f&m receiving), facial, unprotected p in v sex (this is fiction be smart irl), anal, spit as lube, cum eating, creampie kink, baby's first mmf threesome, double penetration, jealousy!, possessiveness!, but the boys are learning how to share, everyone is kind of shitty, some latin (carissime/dear, praecantrix/enchantress, dulcissima/sweetest), no use of y/n, reader has long hair, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!

A/N: i sense a pattern occurring with this specific pairing and i ain't mad at it! ridley scott knew what he was doing when casting these two hunks. this is for my love @almostempty, always on the frontlines of the threesome fic movement 🫡 okay, i hope you all enjoy reading and let ya girl know what you think 🖤

Marcus’s lips curl into a slow, smug smile as he watches you. “Come on, my carissime,” he murmurs, a gravelly caress against your heated skin. “You can do better than that. I know you can.” His large hand cups the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, tugging just enough to make your scalp tingle.

He brushes the stray strands from your face, his touch tender despite the edge of authority in his tone. He wants to see you—wants to savor the way your lips stretch around the thick girth of his cock, the way your cheeks hollow as you struggle to take more of him.

Drool drips from the corner of your mouth, and your eyes flutter upward, catching his smoldering gaze. His golden flecked eyes darken as he drinks you in, and you can’t help but admire him from your position between his powerful thighs.

The streaks of silver weaving through his dark brown curls and beard catch the light, a testament to his age and masculinity.

His chiseled features, strong and weathered, are the kind you’ve explored endlessly—memorizing every dip and ridge with your lips and fingertips. 

Marcus is more than handsome; he’s devastating, a man aging like fine wine—complex, intoxicating, and wholly addictive.

He’s right, of course. You can do better. You’ve done better. But Marcus’s cock always demands a moment of adjustment, a slow surrender to its sheer size and delicious thickness. It’s a challenge you relish, evidence of your enthusiasm to satisfy.

Pulling off him with a gasp, you let your hand slide up his spit slick shaft, jerking him with gentle pressure. A web of saliva bridges your lips to his flushed, throbbing cock, and you purse your lips, spitting onto him, the sound obscenely loud in the quiet room.

Marcus watches you, his lips quirking into a crooked smirk, pride and desire flickering across his sharp features.

“Look at you,” he praises, his thumb brushing along the corner of your mouth, wiping away a strand of drool that’s smudged your lipstick, dragging it across your cheek.

The adoration of the gesture is at odds with the thirst in his eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust as he takes in the way you work for him. “Messy little thing. You love this, don’t you?”

Your answer comes in the form of a teasing smirk, your tongue darting out to swipe at his head. The salty tang of his precum dances on your taste buds, and you slap his cock against the pink muscle, the soft thud making you dizzy.

Your lips then glide over the pulsating, veined flesh of his cock and the weight of him on your tongue sends a deep pulse of heat straight to your cunt. It has you shifting slightly on your knees, your own arousal dampening the thin fabric of your panties, making you crave friction, relief—anything. 

But you know better than to touch yourself without his permission. Marcus thrives on control, his mastery over your pleasure woven into every fiber of his devotion to you.

So though the temptation to sneak a hand down to your needy clit is overwhelming, you revel in the sweet agony of denial, knowing he’ll make the eventual release all the more shattering.

His fingers tighten in your hair, tugging just enough to elicit a muffled moan. The sound vibrates around him, making his cock twitch as you hollow your cheeks again and draw a deep breath through your nose.

Inch by inch, you let him slide deeper, the bulbous tip nudging your uvula, tears pooling in your eyes, the tip of your nose brushing against the coarse hairs at his base.

“Such a praecantrix,” Marcus growls, the Latin rolling off his tongue with an edge of mockery. You love when he speaks to you in the dead language, a relic of his fascination with ancient Roman culture. It feels intimate, and you savor the way he wields it like a weapon meant only for you.

He’s told you as much—that this language, with all its history, is yours alone. 

“So eager to fall to your knees and please a married man. That’s my favorite thing about you, sweetheart. Such a dirty fucking slut.”

The degradation spills over you like molten heat, pooling low in your belly. It’s cruel and intoxicating, and it makes your pussy ache with a mix of shame and desire.

You choke on him, the stretch of his cock testing the limits of your throat, but you don’t pull back. He loves the power, the control, the sight of you struggling yet determined to take everything he gives.

Whether it’s your mouth, your cunt, or on those nights when he’s feeling particularly depraved, your ass—he relishes pushing you to the brink and watching you rise to meet him.

And so what if he’s married? You’ve justified it a hundred times over in your head. His wife should’ve done a better job keeping him satisfied. She shouldn’t have let a man like him go hungry, his appetite desires more than what’s waiting for him at home, which left him roaming, seeking out someone—you—to feed his ravenous needs.

If she couldn’t keep him, that’s not your problem. You didn’t steal him; he came willingly, like a moth to your flame.

You know your role as the other woman. You play it well. During the day, you’re his personal assistant: poised, professional, efficient. You keep his schedule flawless, his coffee perfect, and your interactions just cool enough to deflect suspicion.

But here, in moments like this—when his cock fills your greedy mouth and his filthy words drip into your ears—you’re anything but restrained. You’re his, entirely, bending to his every whim, doing whatever it takes to please him.

No love bites are left where she might see. No lingering perfume to betray you, no smudged lipstick to stain his crisp, tailored shirts. You stay in your lane, as he expects of you, and in return, Marcus makes you feel like an empress—his empress, even if it’s only in secret.

The thrill of being his secret indulgence, his escape, burns hotter than any guilt you once felt. The wrongness of it, the illicit danger of fucking another woman’s husband, only fuels the lustful fire.

You know you shouldn’t. You’ve tried to stop.

The one and only time you tried to end it, it lasted a pathetic seven days. This so-called breakup was spurred on by a friend’s misguided advice.

So, you’d sat him down over a quiet dinner in one of your usual haunts, a restaurant miles away where no one could recognize you, your stomach twisting as you broke the news.

Marcus’s reaction had been icy, his fury masked by a veneer of composure that was somehow worse than an outburst.

The wrinkles on his handsome face deepend before he stood abruptly, throwing down enough cash to cover the bill without a word, leaving you alone to call an Uber, tears dampening your cheeks as you wondered if you’d just lost your job, your lover—or both.

The following days were a cold war. At work, he was stoic and distant, his orders sharp, his reprimands cutting. He barely looked at you, and when he did, his gaze was devoid of the heat you’d grown addicted to. The sting of it was worse than you’d anticipated.

You hated it. You hated yourself for hating it, for craving the attention of a man who wasn’t yours to begin with.

Then, on the eighth day, Marcus snapped. It was late, the floor empty except for you, hunched over your computer. He appeared without warning, dragging you into his office, closing the door with a sharp click.

Before you could speak, he was on you, his hands gripping your hips, his body pinning yours against the cool glass window that overlooked the city.

“You thought you could walk away from me?” His voice was a low growl, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re fucking stupid if you think I’d let my favorite pussy go without putting up a fight.”

That night, he took you hard and fast, his words filthier than ever, his grip bruising and possessive. He made it clear that you weren’t going anywhere—not unless he said so.

And no, he wouldn’t leave her for you. He’d told you as much, his tone unapologetic, almost cruel. But that didn’t matter, not when he was deliciously buried inside your pussy, making you scream his name against the glass.

Now, here you are again—on your knees, his cock filling your throat, his hands tangled in your hair as he reminds you, with every vulgar word, exactly where you belong.

You bring your hand up to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your palm as you keep up your rhythm, your other hand gripping the base of his cock to keep him steady.

The combination draws a sharp hiss from him, and his grip in your hair tightens, holding you in place when his hips start to move in earnest thrusts that force him deeper into your throat as he uses you for his pleasure.

You surrender completely, your body alive with need and your heart racing in sync with his labored breaths.

“Fuck, you’re going to make me come,” he warns, his head tipping back against the leather of his chair. The deep timbre of his voice resonates through you. “You want it, don’t you? My good girl wants every fucking drop.”

Your answer comes in the form of a pornographic moan, your nails digging into his meaty thigh as you nod.

A dull ache spreads across your jaw as you work over his cock, bobbing eagerly, losing yourself in the head you’re giving.

You feel the familiar tightening of his balls, the telltale sign that he’s close, and it spurs you on. Your rhythm grows more frantic, more desperate, sloppy; your lips glossy with saliva as you pop him out of your mouth to lavish attention on his cockhead. You tease the sensitive ridge of his frenulum with slow, deliberate licks, kissing and sucking, worshipping this unit of a man above you.

The muscles of his thighs flex beneath your hands, his body trembling with restrained power. 

Marcus’s growl deepens and he quickly pulls you off his cock. The sharp tug makes you moan, your neck arching gracefully, putting you on display for him like a prized possession.

He stands, towering over you, his broad shoulders and commanding presence casting a shadow that feels consuming. His dark brown eyes bore into yours, appetence and dominance swirling within them.

You stare at him from your position on your knees, swollen lips parted, spit and precum gleaming on your mouth and chin. 

Your breaths come shallow and quick; you know what he wants, so you begin to jerk his cock with both of your fists, twisting your wrists with a skill honed from all the times you’ve gotten him off like this, the wet and lewd sounds of your action having you moan slightly and his grip on your hair tightens.

“Just like that, carissima, milk my cock.”

He comes with a guttural groan, his head thrown back, Adam’s apple bobbing, and you gasp as thick ropes of his release paint your face, splattering across your cheeks, your lips, even your lashes.

You instinctively dart your tongue out, catching the salty taste of him, savoring his essence as though it were nectar from your favorite fruit, giggling softly.

The sight of you, defiled and glowing with satisfaction, makes his hips jerk forward involuntarily, a man undone.

You stroke him through the aftershocks, his cock softening in your hands as you lean into his touch. His grip on your hair loosens, his large fingers threading through it more gently now, brushing it away from your face as he admires his work.

“What a sight, so beautiful on your knees like this, covered in my cum.” Marcus muses, his voice hoarse as his chest heaves. He swipes through the mess on your face, collecting his spend before pressing his fingers into your mouth. You hum, sucking them clean with the same devotion you’ve given his cock.

The taste of him, warm and heady, sends a thrill down your spine.

When he offers you his hand to help you up, you accept it, your knees stiff and aching from kneeling on the rug beneath his desk.

“Your son will be here—” you start, your tone shifting back to professional, delivering the message you initially came in here for before getting… distracted.

“He is not my son,” Marcus snaps, the venom in his voice cutting through the room. He’s buckling his belt with sharp motions, his jaw clenched so tight you can practically hear his teeth grinding.

You don’t flinch—it’s not the first time you’ve seen his temper flare when his stepson is mentioned, and it won’t be the last. Instead, you adjust your tone, correcting yourself smoothly. “Lucius will be here within the hour to discuss the Anderson project.”

You smooth down your work pants, fingers brushing against the creases, and glance into the reflective surface of the nearby cabinet. You already know a trip to the restroom is in order to fix the telltale signs of his rough affection—your swollen lips, disheveled hair, the smudge of mascara beneath your eyes.

Marcus doesn’t respond right away, but the scowl on his face deepens, his broad shoulders rigid as he adjusts the cuffs of his shirt.

The tension between Marcus and Lucius is legendary, an animosity born out of years of neglect, betrayal, and a battle for control over the Aurelius family legacy.

Marcus makes no effort to mask his disdain for his stepson, and Lucius returns the sentiment with equal fervor. Their interactions are charged, each conversation laced with thinly veiled insults and simmering resentment.

Lucius’s childhood, from what you’ve gathered, had been a mess of abandonment and rebellion. Shipped off to boarding schools before he hit puberty, a move orchestrated by his mother, who, by all accounts, seemed eager to rid herself of the burden of raising a troublesome son.

The expulsions came next, one after the other, as Lucius acted out, a desperate bid for his mother’s attention. It never worked. She was too preoccupied with the luxuries of high society to care. Especially not after she married Marcus and skipped her son’s college graduation altogether, solidifying a wedge between them that even time couldn’t mend.

Years later, Lucius had returned with a vengeance, polished and poised, armed with degrees and accolades in both architecture and engineering.

He was ready to reclaim what his grandfather left behind—what Marcus had taken over when he married into the family. 

Lucius wasn’t content to sit on the sidelines. He had marched in and demanded his rightful place—a share in the architectural firm that had been in his family for generations.

You remember that day vividly, the drama unfolding like a soap opera in real-time in the conference room as lawyers from both sides tried to hammer out the details.

Lucius had made it clear that he wasn’t asking for permission—he was taking what was his. Marcus, in contrast, was a picture of barely restrained fury, his fists clenched on the table, his voice cold as he tried to shut his stepson down. 

But the younger man didn’t retract, and by the end of the meeting, he had secured his position as a partner.

For you, the spectacle was captivating, a battleground of egos and legal jargon. Sitting at the edge of the room, your notepad in hand, you watched it all unfold with barely concealed amusement. 

If anything, you’d felt a buzz of anticipation, knowing the tension would wind Marcus so tight he’d take it out on you later. The thought had made you giddy, your pen sliding between your lips as you nibbled on it, your tongue swirling absentmindedly.

You couldn’t help but fantasize about what was to come—the sharp crack of Marcus’ palm against your ass, the growl in his voice as he delivered brutal backshots.

What you hadn’t noticed at the time was Lucius’s gaze on you. Those icy eyes of his watching every flick of your tongue, every scrape of your teeth against the pen.

“Very well,” Marcus says finally, dismissing the topic with a wave of his hand. “Send him in when he arrives.”

As you turn to leave, his hand shoots out, catching you by the elbow. He pulls you close, his body radiating heat against yours. His thumb swipes over your swollen bottom lip before pressing into your mouth, forcing it open. 

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten what I owe you, dulcissima,” he murmurs, all dark and seductive. “I’ll take good care of you later tonight. Midnight. Our room.”

The promise in his tone sends excitement through your veins, your thighs pressing together instinctively.

As you start to nod, your mind remembers one tiny detail from his schedule. “You have dinner reservations with Lucil—”  you begin, her name barely leaving your lips before his thumb presses down harder, silencing you with a whimper.

“Don’t say her name,” his eyes narrow, daring you to defy him, “and don’t you worry about that. I’ll be with you. Midnight.”

Midnight. Our room—a luxury suite in one of the hotels he designed, cloaked in opulence and secrecy. It’s where he comes to you after being with her, and sometimes, where he leaves you to go back to her.

The sting of it is subtle now, dulled by repetition. You’ve taught yourself not to dwell on the fact that his hands on you tonight might still carry the scent of her.

You try not to wonder if he kisses her the way he kisses you, if he whispers sweet nothings in her ear the same way he does when he’s buried inside you.

You don’t want to know. It’s easier to exist in this bubble of ignorance where you can pretend you’re the only one who matters.

Instead, you nod obediently, giving in to the charade you’ve chosen. The playful edge returns, and you bite down lightly on his thumb, your teeth grazing the skin in a way that has his lips twitching into a smirk.

Marcus leans in to press his lips against yours passionately, how you like it, lingering just long enough to make your heart ache. It’s maddening how he kisses you—like he means it, like he loves you.

And maybe, in his own twisted way, he does.

You sit behind your desk, eyes averted as she lounges in the small sitting area, waiting for him to finish his meeting.

She’s here to capture Marcus’s attention. It’s a game you’ve grown accustomed to—her attempts to reclaim parts of him she craves—the passion, the primal connection—all things he reserves for you.

And as petty as it is, part of you revels in knowing how little he gives her. What’s left of his affection after he’s spent it all on you is scraps at best.

She may have his last name, his ring, the sprawling mansion he designed and built for her, but none of it holds a candle to the way he devours you in the secrecy of your shared nights.

The door to his office creaks open, and Marcus steps out, his brow furrowed in the perpetual scowl he wears like armor.

She rises from the loveseat, moving to him as though pulled by an invisible string. Their embrace is brief but intimate enough to make your stomach churn. You keep your focus on the glowing screen of your computer, scrolling through emails that blur together as you strain to block out their presence.

Smug satisfaction only goes so far, and the familiar pang of jealousy gnaws at the edges of your confidence.

Their conversation floats toward you: lunch at the country club, a round of golf, insular activities that reek of old money and class—worlds you’ve only glimpsed from behind the scenes, arranging his reservations, managing his calendar, ensuring his whims are catered to. 

You expect him to brush her off, as he often does, leaving her deflated while he buries himself in work—or in you.

But he doesn’t.

“Clear my schedule for the day and remain on standby in case anything should arise.”

His indifference lands like a slap. You glance up briefly, meeting his gaze, and catch the slight twitch of amusement tugging at his lips before leaning in to kiss her.

He’s enjoying this, you realize. Playing you, toying with your jealousy, rubbing it in just enough to sting.

He knows you can see the way he openly parades her, the casual ease with which he can show her off to the world while you’re relegated to the shadows. Lavish gifts and extravagant outings are hers for the taking, while your rewards are delivered in hushed whispers and midnight rendezvous.

Your smile is syrupy sweet, the kind of false cheer that could rot teeth. “Of course, sir. Enjoy your day together,” you chirp, each word coated in venom he’ll detect, even if she doesn’t.

Marcus doesn’t spare you another glance as he guides her toward the elevator, his arm snug around her waist.

The pang in your chest tightens, sharper than usual. He’s not usually like this with her—so overt, so public. This new display of affection unsettles you, sends your thoughts spiraling down dark avenues.

Are they mending things? Rekindling their marriage?

A cold panic begins to rise, but you quash it down, clinging to the task at hand. You bury yourself in clearing his schedule, canceling meetings, rearranging appointments.

It’s easier to focus on the practical than to confront the gnawing fear that you might no longer hold the place in his life you once did.

Some time later, the sound of footsteps approaching pulls you from your task, and when you glance up, it’s none other than Lucius stepping into view. 

He breezes in like he owns the place—well, technically, part of it is his—and you pause the music playing through your earbuds, slipping one out as he approaches your desk.

“He’s not in,” you inform him, polite but curt. “Won’t be until tomorrow. If it’s urgent, I’m sure you have his personal number.”

He doesn’t reply immediately, instead perching himself on the edge of your desk. His fingers idly play with one of the trinkets decorating your workspace, a polished glass paperweight that catches the light and casts fractured rainbows across his dexterous hands.

You narrow your eyes at his intrusion, taking a moment to really look at him. Where Marcus is the epitome of old-school refinement, pressed suits in muted tones and custom leather shoes, Lucius is his foil.

He’s all rich silken shirts in bold colors, stylish sneakers, and enough jewelry to make him gleam under the office lighting.

Rings adorn on his fingers, chains glint at his neck, and his pierced ears and tattoos add that touch of rebellion he’s infamously known for.

He’s hot, undeniably so, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed before.

There’s always been a charge between the two of you, a flirtatious undercurrent in the way he looks at you, the subtle innuendos in his words.

You’ve never acted on it—how could you, not with a man like Marcus whispering promises of ruin and rapture. Your secret lover waiting behind closed doors.

But today… after the way he flaunted her in front of you, the bitterness curdling in your chest craves a taste of some sort of retaliation. It’s irrational, you know, but something inside you itches.

And maybe, just maybe, Lucius is exactly what you need to scratch that itch.

“Then why are you still here?” He finally speaks, partially amused, as those piercing blue eyes lock onto yours. They’re sharp, assessing, and your cheeks warm slightly under the weight of his gaze.

“A busy man like him has a busy schedule that precedes him,” you reply, keeping your tone professional. “It doesn’t organize itself.”

His lips curve into a slow, knowing smile, one that makes your body hum. “Ah, ever the dutiful assistant. He’s lucky to have someone like you keeping his chaos in check.”

You shrug, forcing a nonchalant air, though his attention feels like a spotlight. “It’s what I’m being paid to do.”

He tilts his head, the movement almost predatory, gaze giving you a not so subtle once over. “It must be exhausting, though. All work and no play makes for a dull life. When’s the last time you took a break?”

Your brows pinch together. “Why do you care?”

“Because,” he drawls, leaning closer, his cologne—a mix of citrus and something spicier—hitting your senses, “I don’t think someone as pretty as you should spend her days buried in schedules and emails.”

“Flattery doesn’t work on me.” A damn lie.

“Oh, I’m not trying to flatter you.” He smirks, his confidence maddening. “I’m simply stating a fact.”

Before you can form a retort, he straightens, brushing invisible lint off his shirt. “Join me for lunch,” he says, and it’s not quite a question. “You look like you could use a little indulgence.”

Your brain immediately shouts no, warning you of all the ways this is a terrible idea, but your pride, bruised and still licking its wounds from earlier, nudges you forward.

“Lunch?” you ask, raising a skeptical brow. “You and me?”

“Why not?” he replies, his grin boyish but undeniably charming. “Unless you’ve got a better offer.”

You know agreeing to this is risky, a slippery slope, but thinking of Marcus coming back to find out you’ve been out with his stepson stokes a spark of defiance you can’t quite ignore.

“I don’t. And if you’re paying, there’s this new place I’ve been dying to try,” you’re playful with it, standing and grabbing your bag, ignoring the little voice in your head screaming at you for potentially girlbossing a little too close to the sun. “If this ends up being a waste of time, I’m billing you for the hour.”

Lucius gives you a smug smile, his satisfaction evident as he steps aside to let you pass. “Don’t worry, beautiful. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“Oh fuck, just like that,” you moan, your breath hitching as your orgasm crests, fingers gripping the edge of the counter tightly.

Between your spread thighs, Lucius works you with his mouth, his tongue sliding through your folds with obscene skill. His strong nose nudges your clit, each brush sparking jolts of pleasure that leave you trembling.

The cold mirror at your back is a sharp contrast to the heat that’s overtaken your entire being, a reminder of where you are—some ritzy bar’s fancy men’s restroom, the door locked behind you.

Lunch had been harmless enough—until it wasn’t. A few drinks at the bar loosened both of your tongues, flirtatious words became heated looks, and before you knew it, Lucius leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, “I think we both know how this is going to end.”

You hadn’t argued when he tugged you toward the restroom, your body tingling with the thrill of doing something so reckless, so delectably wrong. But that’s kind of what you’re into, isn’t it?

The moment the door clicked shut, his mouth had been on yours, kissing you with a fervor that made you forget about everything.

“Been wanting this for so long,” Lucius mutters now as he pulls back, licking his lips, glistening with your sweet slick. His hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider as his darkened blue eyes flick up to meet yours. “Not fuckin’ fair that he gets everything.”

You’re too far gone to care about his words, your head lolling back against the mirror as his lips press a trail of kisses up your inner thigh. “Fuck, Lucius,” you pant, your hands reaching for him, needing more. Your fingers find his dark curls, tugging lightly as he stands, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that’s all heat and desperation.

His tongue slips past your lips, and you moan at the lingering taste of yourself there. Your hand slides down between you, palming the thick length of him through his pants, and he groans into your mouth, his fingers returning to your pussy, teasing your puffy clit until you’re a whimpering mess.

“Are you going to fuck me right here?” you ask breathlessly, biting your lip as you look up at him through heavy lashes.

He groans, his large hand cradling your jaw, tilting your face up to look at him. “What do you think? Turn around.”

He relinquishes his hold on you, stepping back just enough to give you room, and you obey, spinning to face the mirror, your reflection staring back at you. Your cheeks are flushed, lips swollen, and eyes hazy with lust. Behind you, Lucius’s hands are already lifting your skirt, one you’d chosen specifically for Marcus this morning, knowing how much he loves you in pretty, feminine things.

But he had barely spared you a glance before he left with her, and now the thought of him feels distant, unimportant.

He lets out a low whistle, his hands kneading the soft flesh of your ass, admiring the sight of you bent over for him.

You shut your eyes, willing away any lingering thoughts of Marcus as his fingers trace the slick seam of your pussy before dipping inside, his touch confident and practiced.

“Look at yourself,” he commands, his free hand pressing firmly on the small of your back, arching you further. “Eyes on the mirror.”

Your lashes flutter as you meet your own reflection again. His fingers pick up their pace, his chest brushing against your back as he frees himself from his pants. Your breath catches when you feel the thick head of his cock glide through your folds, replacing his digits at your entrance.

You wag your hips playfully, earning a sharp smack to your ass, the sting blooming with heat, and it makes you giggle, the sound light and sultry.

“Are you always this giddy to get fucked?” Lucius teases, his tone dripping with amusement as he lines himself up.

“Only when it’s someone who knows what they’re doing.”

He laughs, a deep, wicked sound, before gripping your hip with one hand and guiding himself inside you with the other. The stretch is exquisite, stealing the air from your lungs as he sinks into you inch by inch, his girth filling you completely.

He’s not as thick or as large as Marcus, but the way he feels inside you is undeniably satisfying, and judging by the expert way he used his mouth, you’re eager to explore the rest of his talents.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans, his head falling forward, his nose nuzzling into your hair. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

You cry out, eyes rolling to the back of your head, your fingers scrambling for purchase on the marbled counter as he starts to move with pure vehemence.

Every thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through you, his pace building until you’re nothing but a mess of moans and desperate gasps.

The sight of him fucking you from behind, his mouth agape, brows furrowed, has your pussy clenching around him. His strokes are deep and hard, each one making the edge of the countertop dig into the front your thighs, but you don’t care. It feels too damn good.

The universe has an impeccable way of fucking with you, and it does so spectacularly when your phone buzzes in your purse.

The ringtone you’ve assigned to Marcus echoes through the luxurious restroom, shattering the moment and flooding your veins with icy dread.

“L-Lucius, stop,” you whine, your voice betraying how little you actually mean it. His thrusts are hitting just the right spot, and you can barely think straight, let alone care about the consequences of missing Marcus’s call.

Lucius pauses, though not in the way you hoped—or feared. He slows, grinding himself against you, his length pressing deliciously into your g-spot.

Leaning over your bent form, he rummages through your purse until he retrieves the still-ringing phone. “Go ahead,” he holds the device out to you with a cocky grin. “Answer it. Wouldn’t want to upset the boss, now would we?”

You hesitate, staring at the phone like it’s a ticking bomb.

The position you’re in—physically and metaphorically—feels impossible to navigate. When the ringing threatens to stop, instinct gives way, and you snatch the phone from his hand and answer, pressing it to your ear.

“Hello?” Your voice is shaky, breathless, and you pray he doesn’t notice.

“Where the hell are you?” Marcus’s tone is sharp, tinged with irritation.

Your breath hitches. He’s back at the office? He said he’d be gone all day. Panic bubbles in your chest as Lucius’s hips roll lazily, burying himself deep inside you as if to prove a point, and you fight not to moan.

“I-I went out for lunch and to run a few errands,” you stammer, gripping the counter for dear life. In the mirror, Lucius’s smirk deepens. His hands slide up your body, cupping your breasts over your blouse as he pulls you upright against his chest.

He moves your hair aside and starts placing soft, teasing kisses along your neck, his facial hair grazing your skin and adding to the maddening sensations.

“How long are you going to be?”

“Not much longer,” you manage, biting your lip as Lucius’s fingers find your clit. “Do you… need something?” The slow, torturous circles make your knees buckle, and you have to mute the phone to let out a strangled moan.

“Yes,” Marcus replies, oblivious to your plight. “I need you back here. I ran into a client while I was out, and…”

Whatever else he says fades into static as Lucius speeds up his ministrations, his fingers and cock working in perfect harmony to unravel you. Your free hand flies to his wrist, a silent plea for mercy, but he just grins against your neck.

“Just let me finish this call,” you whisper, your voice desperate and pleading.

“No,” he growls through gritted teeth. “You’re going to come all over my dick while you’re on the phone with him.”

Before you can protest, he presses you back down against the counter, resuming the relentless rhythm that slips a film of haze over your vision. Your hand trembles as you unmute the call, your brain scrambling to form coherent words while Lucius fucks you like he owns you.

“...so get back here to pull the prints,” Marcus finishes.

“Okay,” you rasp, gripping the edge of the sink for dear life, the sound of skin meeting skin threatening to echo over the line. “I-I’ll be there soon.”

There’s a long pause, and your heart pounds in your chest, more from the overwhelming sensation between your legs than Marcus’s impending suspicion. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you blurt out, squeezing your eyes shut as his fingers press harder against your clit, tipping you dangerously close to the edge. “I—I have to go. I’ll see you at the office.”

Without waiting for a response, you hang up and toss the phone onto the counter.

Finally, you let go, your high pitched moans spilling freely as your orgasm crashes over you. Your walls clamp down around Lucius’s cock, and you throw your hips back to meet his thrusts, chasing every last bit of pleasure.

“Oh fuck me, I’m coming!” you cry out, your voice echoing through the restroom.

He groans, his hands gripping your hips as he delivers a few final, punishing thrusts. “There we go,” he practically purrs, satisfied.

He pulls out at the last second, stroking himself until his release coats the supple skin of your ass. He exhales sharply, a triumphant grin spreading across his face as he watches you shudder beneath him.

For a moment, the room is filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing. Then, he chuckles, stepping back to grab a few tissues. “You’re a fucking masterpiece,” he murmurs, gently cleaning you up.

You let out a weak laugh, your legs still trembling as you brace yourself against the counter. “That was way too close.”

He shrugs, tucking himself back into his pants and leaning against the sink, watching you fix your skirt and smooth your hair in the mirror. “I don’t really give a shit,” he replies, his tone so nonchalant it borders on arrogance.

“Yeah,” you give him a sidelong glance. “I figured as much.” You straighten your appearance, making sure to fix every little imperfection and evidence of what just transpired. 

“When can we do this again?”

You hadn’t thought this far ahead, too caught up in the heat of the moment to consider what might come next. His proposition is tempting, dangerously so, and you hesitate, weighing the risks.

Marcus is married after all, and while he’s never outright told you not to see anyone else (not that you wanted to, either), the possessiveness in the way he fucks you and how he treats you when it was just the two of you makes it clear he wouldn’t be thrilled. 

It’s not necessarily the smartest move to hookup with his stepson, considering the messy family history, but that’s really none of your business.

And the alternative? What, meeting some awkward Tinder match with a small cock who can’t get over his ex? No, thanks. You’d pick Lucius any day of the week. 

“You tell me,” you concede. What Marcus doesn’t know won’t kill him. “I don’t want Marcus to know about us. He’d pop his lid—and as fun as that would be for you, I don’t need that drama in my life right now.”

He reaches for you, his hand curling around your waist to pull you closer until you’re standing between his legs. His hands rest lightly on your hips, his thumbs brushing the fabric of your skirt. “It shouldn’t be any of his business who you fuck.”

You bite down on your tongue, gently pushing his hair back, running your fingers through the soft curls. “I know, but that man is complicated. You, of all people should know that.”

“Right,” he takes in your features, noting how beautiful you are, getting lost in your eyes. “Doesn’t matter much to me, but for you, we can keep this low-key.”

“I’d appreciate that,” you give him a small smile, leaning forward and brushing your lips softly against his in a kiss that lingers just long enough to make your pulse quicken again.

He grins boastfully as he pulls back, his thumb brushing against your jaw in a small, teasing motion. “Come on, I’ll take you back. We’ve probably hogged the washroom long enough.”

You nod, letting him guide you toward the door, though the weight of your choices lingers. For now, though, you push it all aside. One mess at a time.

Juggling these two men feels like a balancing act you’ve somehow mastered. Each fills a different part of your life, balancing out the deficiencies of the other like two halves of a very complicated equation.

Marcus is raw power, the kind of dominance that leaves your soul humming and your heart racing. He’s harsh, unapologetically entitled, and he takes what he wants with a certainty that has you willingly offering yourself up. 

You crave his intensity, the way he makes you feel like you’re teetering on the edge of something dangerously exhilarating.

Lucius, though, is the warmth you never knew you needed. He’s attentive in ways Marcus never could be, the type of lover you’d believed only existed in fiction.

He doesn’t just fuck you—he worships you, like you’re the only person in the world when he’s with you. He makes you laugh, makes you feel seen. He treats you like you’re the prize, not some stolen treasure.

And yet, you’re the one hiding him. He’s eager to show you off, to take you to lavish galas with his Ivy League crowd, or whisk you away to some foreign paradise.

But a stubborn part of you clings to Marcus, to the ridiculous fantasy that one day he might wake up and finally choose you.

That he’ll leave her and realize you were what he wanted all along.

It’s an illusion, of course. And you know it—especially when Marcus mentions that he and his wife are starting couples counseling.

His tone is so nonchalant. It’s like he doesn’t even register what that means for you. But you do. It’s a dagger to the heart, a confirmation of the insecurities that have been simmering on your side of the affair for as long as it’s been happening. 

The beginning of the end. If he’s putting in the effort to save his marriage, you’re the obvious sacrifice.

You tell yourself you don’t care. That it’s good he’s fixing things because it means you can finally walk away. 

That night, you cry—gut-wrenching sobs that wrack your body as you curl up on your couch.

The tears aren’t just for him. They’re for you, for the mess you let yourself fall into, for the heartbreak you practically handed to yourself on a silver platter.

You didn’t realize how much of yourself you’d given to him until it was too late.

In what world does the mistress ever get a happy ending?

Determined, you decide that your time together is up. For real this time.

The sessions with his wife have already put distance between you—less frequent rendezvous, fewer late-night texts. And when you are together, the connection feels fractured.

Sure, he still fucks you like he always has, still uses that ancient, sweet language that once made you feel special. 

But now, everything he does cuts like glass because you know it’s just an act, a hollow currency to keep you around, to keep you looking at him like he’s your moon and stars.

Tonight is supposed to be the last time. You’ve planned it out—how you’ll say it, how you’ll walk away. The usual hotel room feels like the right setting for closure, neutral and familiar enough to weather whatever fallout may come.

You arrive early, as always. The room is pristine, the bed’s crisp linens beckoning. But it’s the item sitting in the center that draws your attention.

A white box tied with a vibrant red bow, your name written elegantly on a card tucked into the ribbon.

Knew these would look divine on you the moment I saw them, my carissime. I haven’t been the most attentive lover as of late, and for that, I apologize. - M

Your heart stutters as you slip the bow free and open the box. Inside lies the most exquisite set of lingerie you’ve ever seen, delicate lace and fine silk in a shade that complements your skin tone perfectly.

It looks so luxurious, you’re almost afraid to touch it. Two smaller boxes rest alongside it. Curious, you open them to reveal earrings and a matching necklace, adorned with your favorite gemstones.

Damn him. He’s making this so hard. The rational part of you knows better, but the temptation is too strong.

What’s the harm in one final night of indulgence? One last chance to revel in his attention, to let him taste you and remember exactly what he’s losing?

You slip out of your clothes, carefully donning the lingerie. The way it hugs your curves, accentuating every dip and swell of your body, makes you feel like a goddess.

You glance at your heels from earlier, slipping them back on—they match perfectly, adding the final touch to your look.

A small, knowing smile graces your lips. If this is goodbye, you’ll make sure it’s a goodbye he’ll never forget.

The door clicks open, and Marcus steps inside, the heavy weight of his presence commanding the room.

He pauses, taking in the sight of you sprawled across the bed, legs kicking up lazily, your chin propped on your palm. The thin strap of your bra slips down your shoulder, revealing more than enough to stoke the embers of desire in his eyes.

His gaze rakes over you with the intensity of a predator. “Dulcissima…” he breathes, the word oozes like molasses, thick and sweet, curling in your ear and making you wet.

You tilt your head, giving him your best doe-eyed expression, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Hi, Marcus,” you sing-song, your tone sweet, teasing, knowing exactly what it does to him.

He steps closer, his eyes lingering on the curves accentuated by the expensive lingerie he gifted you. “I was right to assume you’d look fucking sexy in this,” he says, his voice lower now, his fingertips grazing up your spine.

The faint touch sends a delicious shiver across your skin. His eyes devour you, the glint of the necklace he’d bought you sparkling against your throat like a declaration of ownership.

You turn slowly onto your back, stretching out lazily like a kitten, letting him take in the full view, and he exhales sharply through his nose, his control visibly fraying.

His gaze dips to the way the bra pushes your breasts together, the soft curve of your stomach, the jewelry catching the light.

“Did you like your gifts?” he asks, leaning down to press his lips against your bare midriff.

The kiss is hot, possessive, and you can feel his breath ghosting over your skin. Your stomach flips under his touch.

“Mhm…” you hum softly, keeping your tone light and coy.

His kisses trail higher, his mouth brushing over the swell of your breasts, the faint scrape of his teeth and beard sending a tremor through your body. When he bites down gently, your shaky exhale gives you away, and he chuckles, pleased with himself.

“Good,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your skin. “Couldn’t let my favorite girl forget how much I care about her.”

The word “favorite” grates against something inside you, even as the heat of his mouth distracts you. You let him keep talking, let him spin his meaningless webs.

You know this will be the last time, but you’ll let him play his game a little longer—for now.

Your fingers slip into his salt and peppered hair, pulling him up to you. His lips crash against yours in a fiery kiss, all teeth and tongue, his need barely contained. Your hands slide down his shoulders, body arching against him.

His hands move below you, skillfully undoing the clasp of your bra, the fabric slipping down your arms—when a sudden, sharp knock at the door splits the air.

Both of you freeze. Your breath catches in your throat, and you pull back, looking at Marcus in confusion.

His expression mirrors yours, his brow furrowing in annoyance as he glances toward the door.

The knock comes again, louder this time, more insistent. Then, a voice—deep, familiar, furious.

“Open the door. I know you’re in there.” A pause, your name spoken with quiet venom. “Don’t make me say it again.”

Lucius.

Panic flares in your chest. Your stomach twists as the full weight of what’s about to happen sinks in. You scramble off the bed, your hands shaking as you grab your bra and hurriedly fasten it, your mind racing.

Marcus straightens, his countenance hardening as recognition dawns. His entire demeanor shifts, his shoulders squaring, his jaw tightening.

Everything is going to come to a head now, and you’re not ready for the chaos about to unfold. Marcus is seconds away from finding out about you and Lucius, Lucius uncovering your affair—and there’s no way to stop the inevitable collision.

He stalks to the door, throwing it open with a force that rattles the frame.

There stands Lucius, his expression a storm of anger and betrayal.

His sharp gaze cuts past Marcus immediately, landing on you. He matches the stance of the other man as he takes in the scene: your disheveled state, the lingerie, the necklace glinting on your chest.

“So it’s true.” He storms into the room, “I knew you were sleeping around. My mother did too—just not with who. I should have fucking known it was her.” His words strike like daggers. “It’s always the gold-digging, whorish assistant.”

The insult lands hard, but you refuse to flinch.

Marcus steps forward, spitting out his name. His lips curl into a snarl, his broad body taut with controlled aggression. “What is it that you want? And don’t bullshit me.”

Lucius doesn’t back down. “To see you fall.”

The room goes deadly quiet, the tension is a living thing now, crackling with the threat of violence. You stand frozen, both men squaring off like animals about to tear each other apart.

“Once my mother hears about this, she’s going to divorce you. She’ll take everything. The firm will be mine. She,” his gaze shifts to you, and it’s like being pierced with ice. “Will be mine.”

Marcus lets out a laugh—dark, guttural, dangerous.

“You are an entitled little shit,” the insult makes his disdain clear. “You think you can waltz in here, throw a tantrum, and get what you want? You think I give a damn about your threats?”

“I don’t need threats,” Lucius snaps. “I have the truth.”

“What truth?”

Lucius fucking smirks, stepping away from him and closer to you, rounding your body until he’s right behind you, his words melting into your skin. “She’s not just your dirty little secret. She’s been fucking me too.”

The words drop like a bomb, shattering the fragile facade of control in the room.

Marcus’s body stiffens, gaze snapping toward you with a look you can’t quite decipher—shock, anger, betrayal all dancing in his dark brown eyes.

“Is that true?” He demands, his eyes bore into you, demanding an answer.

Your throat goes dry, panic rising like an avalanche threatening to drown you. “Marcus, I—”

“It’s true,” Lucius interrupts, his tone triumphant and venomous, wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you flush against him. “She’s been playing both sides. Isn’t that right?” His lips trail over your neck, and you hate the way the throbbing at your pussy begins to pulse. “Tell him. Tell him how you’d come running to me every time he wasn’t enough for you. How you let me fuck you while he was on the phone.”

“That’s enough,” Marcus growls, stepping closer, his larger frame looming over the both of you. His anger is palpable, but there’s something else simmering beneath it—arousal.

Lucius laughs, the sound bitter and taunting. “What’s the matter, Acacius? Is the truth too much for you? Or is it the thought of this pussy creaming all over my cock that’s got you so worked up?”

His hand presses against you, his fingers teasing through the damp fabric of your panties, and a soft whimper escapes your lips despite yourself. You bite down on it too late, and Marcus’s gaze sharpens, locking onto you like a predator.

“She’s a liar,” Lucius continues, his voice a deadly purr. “And a cheat. Just like you.”

The accusation tantalizes a reaction out of Marcus, but he doesn’t take the bait. Instead, his eyes fall to where Lucius’s hand moves between your legs, then back to your face.

Slowly, deliberately, he steps closer until the barest inch separates the two of you.

“You’re dripping,” Lucius observes with a smirk, his tone triumphant. “She likes it when we talk to her like this.”

“I know she does,” Marcus replies, razor-sharp. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, his fingers digging just enough to make you gasp. “She always gets off on being called out for what she is—a filthy, nasty little slut.”

“Oh my god,” you breathe, the words slipping out unbidden as Lucius begins to circle your clit. Your head falls back against his shoulder, your body betraying you with every twitch and moan.

“No, darling,” Marcus commands, tightening his grip on your face and forcing you to meet his eyes. “Look at me. Keep those pretty eyes open.”

You blink up at him, your lashes damp with unshed tears of humiliation and need. His gaze is scorching, consuming every inch of your face.

“Why?” Marcus demands, his voice steady but deadly. “Why both of us? What’s in it for you?”

Your lips part, the truth clawing its way to the surface. “Because I can,” you finally admit, your voice trembling but defiant.

The confession hits the air like a spark to kindling. Marcus’s lips morph into a cold smirk, and Lucius lets out a low chuckle behind you.

“Say that again,” Marcus orders, leaning in until his forehead almost touches yours.

“I had two powerful men doing everything for me,” your admission is louder this time, emboldened by the heat of their attention. “Showering me with gifts, meals, and good cock. Why the fuck would I give that up?”

Marcus’s grip on your jaw shifting to trail down your throat, gripping it just enough to make your pulse race beneath his fingertips.

“You’re perfect, my carissime.” There’s this softness to his tone that surprises you, and it only amplifies the pleasure you feel as Lucius slips two fingers inside of you, your mouth falling open as you let out a breathy moan. “So beautiful.” He’s not furious—he’s consumed by the same fire threatening to burn all three of you alive.

“Tell us,” Lucius demands, his voice a smooth drawl as his digits curl just right, pressing onto the spongy, sensitive spot that makes your desire flare. “Tell us what you really want, or we’ll stop. Maybe leave you here all wet and needy.”

Marcus can feel the way you harshly swallow against his palm, brows twitching with amusement as he watches you intently, anticipating your answer. “I want both of you,” you confess. “I want you to ruin me, together.”

The air between you is laced with shared lust and hostility. Marcus shakes his head, a bitter, haughty laugh escaping him. “You really are a whore,” he says, his free hand gripping your chin again to force you to look at him. “And you’ll take whatever we give you. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you whisper, the word a plea as Lucius withdraws his fingers only to bring them to your lips. He smirks when you part them willingly, sucking his fingers clean with a moan that makes Marcus’s eyes darken further.

“You’ve got her trained well,” He taunts, his gaze locking with Marcus’s over your shoulder.

“Enough talking,” Marcus snaps, his patience finally snapping, “Get her on the bed.”

Lucius doesn’t hesitate. He guides you backwards, sitting at the edge of the bed with you on his lap, undoing your bra and slipping it off your shoulders.

Your legs spread instinctively, your body already responding to the charged dominance of the two men using you.

Lucius’s lips claim yours in a kiss that’s as punishing as it is passionate. His hands roam freely over your body, kneading your breasts, pinching at your nipples while Marcus watches, his belt undone and his pants unbuttoned but still on.

He strokes himself slowly, his gaze fixed on the way Lucius toys with you.

When Lucius pulls back, a string of saliva connects your lips. He smirks, attention turning to Marcus. “She’s all yours. For now,” his tone drips with challenge.

Marcus steps forward, gripping your thighs. “Been thinking about tasting her all day. You’re not about to fuck that up for me.”

Then, with a confidence that makes your heart stutter, he drops to his fucking knees.

The motion is almost reverent, but the hunger in his eyes tells a different story. He hooks his fingers into the delicate lace of your panties, dragging them down your legs until they hang precariously from the sharp tip of your heels. His breath ghosts over your sticky, swollen folds, making your thighs quiver in anticipation.

“Fuck,” Marcus mutters under his breath, the words guttural, as if the sight alone is enough to wreck him. His mouth descends, and the moment his tongue laves over your folds, devouring you with reckless abandon, you cry out, your back arching instinctively against Lucius.

“Oh!” The exclamation is ripped from your throat, and Lucius grunts in response, his hands tugging at your sensitive nipples while his lips and teeth nip at your neck, leaving stinging kisses.

It’s overwhelming, the sensation of being worshipped and claimed by both of them.

The heat, the hands, the mouths—everything converges until you’re dizzy with pleasure. Your trembling fingers fumble behind you, reaching for Lucius’s pants, desperate for more.

It makes him chuckle low in your ear, the sound both amused and darkly approving.

“Impatient,” Lucius murmurs, helping you by undoing his pants and freeing his thick cock. You wrap your shaky hand around him, earning a hiss of pleasure as he hardens further under your touch.

Meanwhile, Marcus’s lips wrap around your fleshy pearl, sucking it into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth. His tongue flicks against the sensitive nub, your hips grinding against his face.

He doesn’t stop you—if anything, he encourages it, absolutely pussy drunk, groaning against your cunt as if your taste alone could sustain him.

Your juices smear across his lips and beard, the rough bristle of it adding another layer of sensation that makes your vision blur. The heat coils tighter in your core, your thighs trembling as Lucius’s cock twitches in your hand.

You have a devious idea. With a soft call of Marcus’s name, you draw his attention, your voice breathless and needy.

His dark eyes flick up to yours, his lips glistening with your slick. Without a word, you extend your hand, palm up, quirking a brow in silent request.

Marcus smirks, his smugness dripping with sinful intent, and spits into your hand. The obscene mixture of his saliva and your syrupy arousal pools in your palm, and you return to stroking Lucius’s cock with it. His sharp intake of breath tells you he appreciates the added slickness.

“Fuck,” Lucius curses, his hips jerking forward into your grip as your lips reconnect with his. Marcus, undeterred, dives back between your legs, his tongue and lips working in perfect rhythm.

The wet, lewd sounds of your hand on Lucius’s cock and Marcus devouring you echo through the room, an indecent symphony pushing you closer to the edge.

Your breaths grow ragged, your body taut like a bowstring. “I—I’m close,” you manage to stammer, your voice barely audible against Lucius’s mouth.

“Then come,” Marcus commands, his voice muffled against your heat but no less authoritative. “Come all over my tongue, darling. Take it.”

His teeth graze your clit just right, and the sharp sensation sends you careening over the edge. You scream his name, your body convulsing as your orgasm crashes over you, your release drenching Marcus’s face.

He doesn’t falter, drinking you greedily as though you’re the sweetest ambrosia. The fountain of fucking youth.

You collapse against Lucius, your body trembling and spent, but the men aren’t done with you. Not even close.

Marcus rises to his feet, his shirt already discarded, his chest heaving as he toes off his shoes and sheds the rest of his clothing. Lucius holds you close, his hands gentle as they trail over your skin, his lips pressing soft, almost tender kisses to your shoulder.

Then you’re maneuvered, heels taken off and bent over the edge of the bed.

Lucius scoots back just enough to rid himself of his remaining garments, his cock standing proud and throbbing as it brushes against your cheek. He cups your face, his thumb stroking your flushed skin as he guides the bulbous head to your lips.

Marcus leans down to kiss the back of your shoulder, his lips hot against your skin. “Show him what that pretty little mouth can do.”

You moan softly, your lips parting to take Lucius in. “I know exactly what she can do,” he says cockily, his voice dark with jealousy. “Don’t I, baby?”

Marcus growls from behind, envious, his large hands sliding over your ass, squeezing possessively as he lines himself up with your dripping, fluttering entrance.

You whimper, nodding weakly, but any response is cut off as Marcus thrusts forward, burying himself to the hilt in one unrelenting stroke.

You cry out, the stretch of him almost too much. He doesn’t pause, doesn’t give you a moment to adjust, his hands gripping your hips as he sets a punishing pace.

Lucius gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, holding you steady as he begins to rock his hips, driving himself deeper down your throat. “Goddamn,” he rasps, his face contorting in bliss.

The intensity of it all—the exhilarating roughness of Marcus inside you, the weight of Lucius on your tongue, the heat and dominance radiating from both of them—sends your mind spiraling.

Your body is a conduit for their pleasure, and the way they claim you, together, makes the ache in your core unbearable.

“She’s so fucking tight,” Marcus growls, his nails digging into your skin. “Even with two cocks, she could take more. Couldn’t you, carissima?”

Lucius pulls you back with his firm grip on your hair as he forces you to answer. “Y-Yes,” you stutter, tears pricking your eyes from the sheer intensity. “Both of you—however you want me.”

The words spark something feral in them both. Marcus spanks you hard, the sharp sting making you cry out, while Lucius smirks, his gaze burning with approval.

“She’s about to come again,” Marcus announces, his thrusts growing erratic. “I can feel it. Shit, I shouldn’t let her, but she looks so goddamn beautiful when she does.”

Lucius chuckles darkly, his hand stroking his cock as he watches you fall apart. “She really is something when she’s like this.”

Marcus’s hand cracks against your ass repeatedly in a rhythmic cadence, heightening the pressure building deep within you. Each spank forces a moan from your throat, your body yielding completely to him as he drives you closer to the edge.

When your orgasm hits, it’s shattering. Your muscles lock, trembling as you cry out his name, the intensity leaving you utterly spent. Your release coats Marcus’s thick cock, the mess dripping down between your thighs.

Lucius, ever the observer, watches with an almost languid fascination, his lips curling into a sly smirk.

He doesn’t try to reclaim your mouth, instead captivated by the way your features twist in pleasure.

The sounds leaving you are primal—animalistic—and you’re too far gone to care. Your body screams for respite, muscles quivering from the relentless pace Marcus set, but your desire eclipses your exhaustion.

You don’t want it to stop; you crave more, as if their touch is the only thing keeping you tethered to this earth.

Your pussy flutters around Marcus as if unwilling to let him go, and for a moment, he hesitates, groaning at the way you cling to him.

“Could die in your sweet cunt,” he sighs, pulling out reluctantly. His cock, glistening with your combined juices, twitches at the loss of your warmth. “But I want to see you bounce on his cock now. Go on—show me how well you can follow instructions.”

The command is firm and your body responds before your mind can catch up.

Lucius shifts back against the headboard, his expression one of lazy satisfaction as he pulls you onto his lap. His hands guide you with surprising gentleness, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your hips as your lips meet his.

The kiss is slow, a stark contrast to the brutal pace Marcus had set, but it’s no less intense.

You feel Lucius’s cock slide through your swollen and used folds, the head teasing your oversensitive entrance before he thrusts inside.

You gasp into his mouth, wincing at the overwhelming sensation, but the pleasure quickly drowns out the ache as you adjust to him.

“Lucius,” you whimper, your voice high and pleading as your hips begin to rock. The friction makes you shudder, your body melting against his as he matches your rhythm.

“Just like that,” he groans, his head falling back against the headboard. His praise is genuine, his tone dripping with admiration. “Fuck, you’re amazing. Keep going—ride me, baby.”

You obey, rolling your hips with increasing determination before bouncing on him, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the room. You cling to him for support, your sweat slick tits pressing against his as he moves with you.

The bed dips, the shift pulling your attention away just as Marcus reappears, his towering figure imposing. His cock, messy with your release, bobs enticingly in front of you, making your mouth water. 

You don’t hesitate. Leaning forward, you press a teasing kiss to the base of his shaft before dragging your tongue up the length of him, from his heavy balls to the sensitive tip.

You repeat the action, savoring the salty taste of yourself on him before finally taking him into your mouth.

The room is a haze of sweat, lust, and the raw, carnal need radiating between the three of you.

Marcus curses above you as your mouth devours him, your lips dragging from his throbbing, veined shaft down to the soft weight of his balls.

You let your tongue explore, slurping and licking, his sparse pubic hairs tickling your cheeks.

“Shit,” he groans, his large hand resting at the back of your head, letting you work at your own pace. “You’re so good at this, you know that? Worshipping me like you’re fucking made for it.”

Your throat is hoarse from the cries you’ve let out and the sheer volume of cock you’ve taken, but you press on, sucking and tonguing at him.

Lucius’ nails dig into the soft flesh of your ass cheeks, leaving faint crescents in their wake as he thrusts upward into your drenched pussy, the force of his movements making your entire body jolt.

“Keep bouncing on it,” He spreads your ass cheeks wider, his fingers teasing your other hole, brushing lightly against the tight ring.

The sensation makes you gasp against Marcus, your pussy clenching hard around the cock inside of you.

Marcus lets out a low laugh, his thumb swiping over the sheen of sweat on your temple.

“You’ve been in this tight little ass before?” Lucius asks, his tone laced with curiosity and lust.

“Plenty of times,” Marcus replies smoothly, gripping your face to guide your mouth back onto him. “She takes it so well. Always does. Don’t you, dulcissima?”

You gurgle around his length, your throat convulsing as he pushes deep, cutting off your air supply.

The world starts to dim, stars dancing at the edges of your vision, but the dizzying combination of Marcus’s cock down your throat and Lucius’s relentless thrusts makes you shudder with pleasure.

Marcus finally releases you, pulling out with a slick pop, and a mess of saliva drips down your chin, your chest, mixing with the sweat already coating your skin.

You cough, your body trembling as you try to catch your breath, and when you look up, your face is a wreck—puffy lips, smeared makeup, eyes glassy.

“Please,” you manage to whisper, your voice broken but no less keen.

Marcus tilts your chin up, his thumb brushing your spit-slick lips. “So fucking dirty,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss you sloppily, uncaring of the mess between you.

His lips are selfish, his tongue curling against yours, his large hand cradling your face as if you’re his salacious treasure.

Lucius slows his thrusts, letting Marcus take over once he’s finished kissing you.

You’re pliant, boneless, too fucked-out to do anything but submit as Marcus positions himself behind you.

Your body is sandwiched between them, the heat of their skin against yours making your head swim. The room reeks of sex, their natural musk mingling with the sticky-sweet scent of your arousal.

“You got what you wanted, huh?” Lucius whispers against your ear, his lips brushing your neck.

“Both of us at the same time,” Marcus answers for you, his tone dripping with amusement as he strokes himself, the other hand spreading your ass.

His thumb circles your puckered hole, pressing just enough to make you moan.

“Fuck yes,” you pant, a smirk pulling at the corners of your swollen lips despite how utterly wrecked you feel.

The two men exchange a look—a silent agreement passing between them.

Marcus spits, the warm glob of saliva landing perfectly on your tight hole. His cock, wet with your earlier attention, glistens as he smears the spit across himself, preparing you.

“Relax,” Lucius coos, his hand brushing your hair back. His lips press against your jaw then the corner of your mouth. “Take it like you always do.”

Marcus pushes in slowly, the stretch almost unbearable, and your breath hitches, eyes rolling back as your body adjusts to the intrusion.

The sensation of being completely filled—Lucius’s cock buried in your pussy, Marcus’s girthy length breaching your ass—is overwhelming.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, your nails digging into Lucius’s shoulders as Marcus inches deeper, his pace agonizingly deliberate.

“Always so tight, and ready” Marcus growls, his voice thick with restraint.

Lucius lets out a low chuckle, his hands roaming your body, one moving to your breast to tweak a sensitive nipple. “She always is. And she loves it, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you cry out, your voice trembling, desperate. “I love it.”

They move in tandem, their cocks filling you, stretching you, driving you mad with pleasure as they fuck you mercilessly.

You’re lost in it all; the pain, the rhapsody, the sound of their grunts and groans mingling with your cries as your body is pushed to its limit.

It’s all a blur of sin. Both men push you closer and closer to the brink of oblivion.

Marcus drives into your ass, his fingers leaving bruises on the meat of your hips, while Lucius pistons upward from beneath you, his cock dragging against that sweet spot inside your pussy that makes your vision white out.

The thin barrier of flesh separating their cocks as they thrust into you sends jolts of ecstasy coursing through your body, your nerves raw and exposed.

You feel alive—every touch, every degrading word, every deserving thrust driving you closer to the precipice.

Their voices are a cacophony in your ears, their sharp remarks intertwining with your own ragged moans.

“Look at her,” Marcus sneers from behind you, his hand coming down in a sharp slap against your ass, forcing a yelp from your lips. “She’s fucking loving this. Such a filthy little thing, taking both our cocks like it’s the only thing she’s good for.”

You can’t form words, your head lolling between them as their bodies claim yours. Every stroke blurs the line between pain and pleasure, their belittling words fanning the flames in your gut.

“Slut,” Marcus taunts, his voice dripping with mockery as his hand slides up your back, pushing you further down against Lucius’s chest.

Lucius’s hand snakes between your legs, his fingers finding your swollen clit.

The added stimulation is too much. With a strangled cry, your final orgasm explodes through you, ripping a scream from your throat as you convulse around them.

“Fuck!” you shout, your voice cracking as your body arches and you reach blindly for the both of them to anchor yourself. “Marcus! Lucius!”

“That’s it, scream for us,” Marcus mocks, his voice rough as he continues pounding into your ass.

Lucius grips your waist, holding you flush against him, his teeth grazing your shoulder as he murmurs darkly, “Gonna fill this pussy up, and you’re not going to waste a single drop, you hear me?”

You nod weakly, your body limp against him as both men drive into you, their relentless rhythm dragging you through the haze of overstimulation.

“Poor girl is out of it,” Marcus taunts, slapping your sore ass again. “Come on, hang on a little longer.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of it all. It is almost too much, and for a fleeting moment, you consider tapping out. But the way their bodies command yours, the sound of their growls, and the sheer force of their presence keep you in the game.

Marcus’s breathing grows labored, his hands clutching your hips right above where Lucius is holding you as he thrusts into you wildly a few more times before he freezes, his cock pulsing deep inside you.

“Fucking. Take. It,” he snarls as his release floods your ass in hot, thick ribbons.

Your body twitches against Lucius’s as Marcus lets out a satisfied grunt, and he is the last to follow, as he forces you down onto his cock entirely, holding you there while he empties himself into your pussy. 

You’re spent, your body trembling and boneless as they finally slow, their brawny hands roaming over your skin as if soothing the raw, frenzied mess they’ve made of you.

The exhaustion finally catches up, an almost unbearable heaviness dragging at your limbs as Marcus and Lucius pull out of you.

You barely register their murmured words or the gentle way they clean you up, your body too drained to offer anything more than faint whimpers.

When your head hits the pillow, lying on your back beneath the linens, sleep claims you almost instantly, as though your body has surrendered entirely.

You don’t know how much time passes before you stir again. The room is still dark, save for the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains.

Everything is quiet—no voices, no sounds of movement— and you blink, fully groggy and disoriented.

Every inch of you is sore, your legs leaden, your pussy and ass throbbing with the aftermath of their brutal attentions. Shifting slightly, you wince, and the movement stirs a dull, lingering heat in your core.

“Carissime,” the familiar endearment pulls you fully from the fog of sleep, your heart skipping as you feel large hands seeking you out, pulling you into a broad chest that you recognize all too well.

“Marcus,” you croak, your throat burning with the effort, the rough sounds of earlier cries and screams still lingering in your vocal cords.

Your words devolve into a coughing fit, and Marcus shifts immediately, reaching over to flick on the lamp beside the bed.

Warm light floods part of the room, making you squint and illuminating his strong features, softened with concern as he hands you a glass of water he must have prepared.

“Drink.”

You gulp the water down greedily, the coolness soothing your parched throat. When the glass is empty, you lower it shakily, only for Marcus to take it from your hands and set it aside.

His hand slides to your back, stroking it in slow, deliberate circles.

“What…” you start, your thoughts tangled, unsure where to begin.

Marcus hushes you, tipping your chin up with his thumb and forefinger, his dark eyes boring into yours. “You made a mess of things, you know that, right?”

You can only stare at him, your lips parting in confusion as he holds your gaze captive.

“You know I don’t like sharing,” he continues, his voice deceptively gentle. “And you still went out and found some other dick to hop on... Not just with anyone, either, but with Lucius.” His lips curl into a wry smile, almost amused at the irony.

The mention of your other lover makes your heart race.

“My sweet girl,” Marcus goes on, stroking your thigh beneath the sheets with his free hand. “This is my fault, really. For not prioritizing you the way I should have.”

There’s a flicker of guilt in his expression, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears. “But it could never be that way. You know this. I told you from the start I’d never put you at the forefront. And I meant it.”

His words sting, soft though they are, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You don’t know where he’s leading this conversation, but it feels like he’s holding your heart right in the palm of his hand.

“I convinced the boy to keep our secret,” Marcus continues, his thumb brushing against your lower lip as he watches you intently. “But you’re too much of a temptation to keep around. I should fire you. Let you go.”

Your breath catches, panic surging momentarily until his hand moves higher, cupping your cheek.

“But I’m a selfish man that craves your cunt,” he admits, his lips curling in a predatory smirk. “Your mouth. Your body.”

His hand presses firmer against your thigh, as if to emphasize his claim, while his thumb continues its tantalizing stroke over your lip.

“So I’m—we’re—keeping you around,” Marcus declares, the weight of his decision settling heavily in the space between you.

You should feel insulted, degraded even. But instead, the ache between your legs throbs with want, remembering how he and Lucius took you apart.

“It’s the only way I can make this work without losing you. It’ll kill me to know you’ll roll around in bed with him, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make to keep seeing your beautiful face every day. To keep my share of the firm.”

So this is what it’s all about—it isn’t about love, it’s about men and their entitlement, their rivalry, their need to possess and control.

Marcus tilts his head, studying you as if waiting for your response. “That is, if you want it,” he adds. “I have no interest in keeping you here against your will.”

The opening is there—the chance to leave this mess behind. To reclaim some shred of dignity and walk away from the entanglement of lust and rivalry these men represent.

But then the delicious ache in your body pulls at you, reminding you of how good it felt to have both of them claim you, how intoxicating it is to be the center of their desire, their depravity.

You don’t ask about his wife or any of that other bullshit. Instead, your lips curve into a saccharine smile, and you nod, your voice steady despite the chaos in your mind.

“I want this,” you say simply.

Marcus’s eyes darken with satisfaction, his smirk growing as he cups your face and kisses you—messy and bruising, claiming you once more.

If you’re a bad person for choosing this, then so be it. Bad people always find their place, and yours is right here, tangled in their dangerous games.

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Thanks for the reblog love and support @titlee78! 😘💜

I Gave You My Heart❤️💔

One Shot (Complete) ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x f!Reader x Lucien de Leon

🎄Summary: You and Dieter attend his parents annual Christmas party where you unexpectedly run into your ex, Lucien de Leon. As events (and drama) unfold, you're soon wondering if you are making the right choice about your future.

🎁Word Count: 9.1 K

🚨Warnings: Angst, smut shenanigans, alcohol consumption, brief mentions of past drug abuse, shitty relationships, family drama, mentions of unplanned pregnancy. Dieter & Lucien come with their own warnings.

Shout out to my love, @morallyinept, for her wonderful character dialog database. It was nice to have that as a reference for this fic. 💜

I glanced at my watch. We were supposed to be leaving in twenty minutes, but Dieter hadn’t made it home yet due to being stuck in LA traffic. From the string of expletives included in his text messages with his ETA updates, I could tell he was beyond frustrated that filming had gone over schedule. 

He burst through the door of our Sherman Oaks home in a flurry, kicking his shoes off and undressing as he made his way upstairs toward the bathroom to shower. He was still covered in grime and fake blood from whatever gruesome scene he had been filming that morning. 

I followed behind him, picking up his clothes and biting back laughter as I watched his bare ass quickly disappear down the hallway into our bedroom. It wasn’t an unusual sight, but he typically didn’t move at a speed that would cause his ass cheeks to bounce the way they were. He was already in the shower when I entered, vigorously rubbing at his face and hair under the spray as he cursed about the water not warming up fast enough and making jokes that his dick was now shriveled up to the size of an almond because it was so cold. 

I shook my head and laughed as I threw his clothes into the hamper, “Dee, would you relax? I told your mom we might be a few minutes late. She was cool with it.”

He huffed loudly, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m just a little nervous. I haven’t been to one of her Christmas parties in years. There’s gonna be a lot of family there that I’ve been avoiding.” 

As I did some last-minute hair and makeup touch ups, Dieter stepped out of the shower. I glanced over at him, doing a double take as I noticed there was still a tinge of red in his hair near his temple. I pointed toward it, “You still have fake blood in your hair.”

He huffed out a quiet “fuck” as he threw his towel at me and stepped back into the shower, dumping more shampoo into his hand to scrub at the spot while he muttered expletives under his breath. 

By the time he stepped out again, I was pulling on my dress for the party. It was solid black and very fitted with a boat neckline and exceptionally low back. I could feel his eyes on me as I adjusted the straps to sit properly. His hands gripped my hips from behind and squeezed at the meaty flesh, “Well, the almond dick issue is solved. You look so fucking sexy in this. Think we have time for a quickie?”  

I scoffed jokingly, “No. We don’t, actually. Save it for later, lover boy.” 

He whined, “OK. Fine. I wanna fuck you in my old bedroom anyway. That bed has never seen any action. It’s time.” 

I rolled my eyes at him, “You’re so ridiculous.” 

He gave me a quick peck on the cheek then grinned, “I know, but that’s why you love me.”

He wasn’t wrong, I loved his playful and carefree side. He made me smile more than anyone else ever had. We acted like a couple of big kids most days, always having fun and not taking each other for granted. We had both finally reached a point where we were happy, healthy, and ready for life-long companionship. 

We had come into each other's lives at just the right time - him having hit his one-year sober anniversary and me finishing out therapy to deal with all of my childhood trauma. We met in the self-help section of a Barnes and Noble of all places. Both of us were looking for the same book with only one copy being found by him. After several minutes of looking for another one and coming up short, he offered to let me have it, but only if I gave him my phone number. I was hesitant at first, but it ended up being the best decision I had ever made. A year later we were still going strong and planning our future together. 

I could feel my nerves bubbling up as we got into the car. I hadn’t officially met his family, but I had talked to his mom several times when she would call. That didn’t make me feel any better though. 

I dug around in my purse, pulling out my phone to see if my best friend, Delia, had texted me back yet and found a notification from her.

Delia: Sorry, I’m just not feeling up to coming tonight. You two have fun. I’m sure they will all love you. 

I sighed and shoved it back in my purse. Dieter glanced at me from the driver seat, grabbing my hand to lace his fingers with mine once it was free.

“Something wrong?” he asked with furrowed brows. 

I shrugged, “I…don’t know, honestly. Delia’s been kind of weird lately. I feel like she’s avoiding me. I was really hoping she would come tonight. Having someone else there that I know would have been nice.” 

His hand tightened in mine, “She’s probably just busy…she does have that new job.”

I sighed again, “Yeah…true. Maybe you’re right.” 

He pulled my hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on my fingers, “Just relax, love. You’re letting the nerves get to you. I can tell. My mom is gonna love you…she already does.” 

I laughed nervously, “She hasn’t even met me…”

He smiled, “Doesn’t matter. She knows you make me happy and keep me outta trouble. That’s all she’s worried about.” 

We were quiet the rest of the way, but that didn’t stop Dieter from giving me reassuring hand squeezes and kisses. With him now focused on me, it seemed like his nerves had dissipated some, which was a good thing, at least. 

As we parked outside his sprawling childhood home in the Hollywood Hills, I couldn’t ignore the bad feeling taking root in my gut and I didn’t know why. I finally shook it off as he reached into the backseat to fetch the Christmas bouquet he had purchased for his mom. From the looks of it, we were some of the first guests to arrive as Dieter had planned. He wanted to spend some time with his parents before things got too hectic. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad idea.

We were greeted with smiling faces and hugs. Mr. and Mrs. Bravo were nothing but kind to me and mostly gushing about how well Dieter was doing and happy he was finally getting his life together. Dieter sat next to me with a shy smile and flushed cheeks as his mom doted on him. He would never admit it, but I knew it meant a lot to him that his parents finally saw him as something other than a failure. 

As guests began to filter in, Dieter took the opportunity to take advantage of his parents' distraction, citing that he was going to show me around. The minute he checked over his shoulder with a smirk as he pulled me upstairs by one hand, I knew what he was up to. 

We were both giggling like a couple of teenagers as he gave one last glimpse over his shoulder before pulling me into a room at the end of the hallway and locking the door behind us. It was like a time capsule. His parents had obviously not touched it since he moved out. The wall space was covered with 80’s movie and band posters. There was floor to ceiling shelves on one side of the room filled with books and old VHS tapes. It was very Dieter. 

I could feel his eyes on me as I inspected the room. I suddenly turned to meet his gaze with a mischievous smile, “So, where do you keep the dirty magazines and porn videos?” 

He snorted out a laugh, “Well…that all went with me when I moved out…buuut, I used to keep them buried at the back of the closet…in one of the many boxes labeled as comics.” 

I chuckled, “That sounds about like what I expected.” 

He suddenly pulled me into his arms and smiled against my lips, “We probably need to be fast, so mom doesn't get suspicious.”

His lips trailed down my neck as he backed me up against the dresser. I laughed before responding with a conspiratorial tone, “We can’t have that now, can we? She might ground you from your video games.” 

He groaned against my shoulder before spinning me to face the dresser, meeting my gaze in the mirror as his fingertips ghosted down the exposed skin of my back. I could already feel the arousal drenching my underwear as his thirsty eyes drank me up. His hands moved to the straps of my dress, slipping them over my shoulders, allowing the dress to slide down my body and pool on the floor at my feet. 

He licked his bottom lip as one hand reached around to gently knead at my breast, then pinched the nipple between his fingers. I moaned quietly at the sensation, leaning back against him as I grasped his hand and raised it to my mouth, sucking on his middle and index finger before placing them at my center. He wasted no time pulling my underwear aside to rub at the small bundle of nerves, eliciting a much louder moan from me. He chuckled against my ear, “Imma need you to be quiet, love. These walls are thin. Never know when somebody might walk by.” 

His fingers dipped lower, first one, then two disappearing inside of me to expertly massage at that blissful spot that he knew so well. I gripped his arm with one hand, while the other tangled in his messy curls. 

He hummed against my ear in that deep baritone voice of his, “So wet already, you’re always ready for me, aren’t ya honey?”

I nodded; my head dropped back against his shoulder as my eyes pinched shut. 

“Oh no, love. Keep your eyes on me.” 

My eyes met his reflection, he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he fought a smirk. He always looked so fucking sexy when he did that. I could feel his bulge pressing against my ass as he continued to work me over, grinding into me as his hot breath came faster against my ear. He had me coming undone in his arms within minutes, never taking his eyes off mine as he worked me through my release. 

He held me around the middle for support, lips grazing and nibbling at my neck until I regained my senses. I chuckled, turning my head toward him to capture his lips in a heated kiss. He pulled away slightly, just far enough that he could suck his fingers into his own mouth to taste me. All while never breaking our eye contact. I needed him immediately.

I turned in his arms, nimble fingers moving to the buttons on the front of his black dress shirt to unfasten them. He smiled down at me as I worked to remove his clothes, allowing me to take charge now. Once he was undressed, I pushed him back toward the tiny twin bed. 

“Lay down so I can fuck you like you want me to, lover boy.”  

His brown eyes rounded as he took in my words, turning giddy and scrambling onto the bed - his cock erect and bouncing as he went. I had to bite back a laugh at his excitement. His enthusiasm for sex never seemed to wane.

After he got situated, he patted at the tops of his thighs with a lopsided grin that caused his cheeks to dimple. “Alright, mount up and ride me, baby.” 

I couldn’t help chuckling as I peeled off my underwear then moved to straddle his hips. After notching him at my entrance, I quickly sank down all the way, causing his jaw to fall open from the feeling. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me in place. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re about to revert me back to my sixteen-year-old self and make me come after six seconds by doing shit like that.” 

I leaned down, giggling against his scruffy chin before placing a kiss on the bare heart shaped patch in his beard. He let out a steady controlled breath before loosening his grip and nodding for me to continue. I sat up, placing my hands on his chest for leverage and began to move. We were met with a high-pitched squeaking sound. I paused, rolling my lips together in an attempt to hold in my laughter.

Dieter huffed, “It’s not that loud…keep going.” 

I nodded and began to move again. Every time I sank down onto him - squeak, squeak, squeak. It only seemed to get louder each time. 

My right hand flew to my mouth to hold in the giggles. I couldn’t help it. 

Dieter’s eyes slid closed in defeat as he huffed out, “I guess there’s a reason this bed hasn’t seen any fucking action.” 

I finally lost it, leaning down to bury my face in his chest as I burst into laughter. My movement caused the bed to squeak again which set us both off. It continued the incessant noise as our bodies shook from the hysterics, which only served to make things worse. 

Dieter finally collected himself enough to wrap his arms around me and move to a sitting position, then twisted to hang his legs off the side of the bed. All while it continued to squeak with every movement. 

“Fuck this. I’m a big boy now. Watch me make this work.”

He stood, wrapping my legs around his waist as he did so while I tried to stifle my giggles. He moved back toward the dresser, perching me on the edge of it as he repositioned himself at my entrance and sank in. The sudden sensation of him filling me caused our chuckles to turn to a deep groan. He stood there for a moment, allowing me to adjust to the new angle.

He smiled against my lips, “See…I got this.” 

I gave him a teasing look and nodded, “Then get to it Bravo. Show me how it’s done.” 

His hips began to move, slowly at first so I could feel every inch of him sliding against me. It was already creating a delicious sensation that would soon turn me into a quivering mess in his arms. He began to snap his hips a little faster which resulted in a thumping noise from the mirror smacking against the wall. The faster he went, the louder it got, which caused me to lose it all over again. 

He stopped moving as his forehead tilted forward to lean against my shoulder, “Oh for fuck’s sake.” 

When my eyes finally met his, he was fighting a smile. “I just wanna have sneaky sex in my old bedroom, is that too much to ask?”

I snickered as I pushed at his chest for him to back away, “Ok, it’s my turn. Watch and learn.” 

I hopped down off the dresser and turned my back to him, leaning forward to place my hands on the top of the dresser to brace myself as I arched my ass toward him. I turned to look at him over my shoulder with a teasing smirk, “Mount up, lover boy.” 

He chuckled as he came up behind me, one hand grasping my hip as the other gripped the base of his cock to slide back in. I gasped at the feel of him as he leaned flush against me, lips brushing my ear as he spoke. “You think you’re such a clever girl, don’t ya.”

I nodded as his hips snapped against my ass, now panting as I muttered out some teasing words. “I know I am.”

His hands snaked around to my front, one pulling me flush against him as the other rubbed tight circles on my clit. “I guess that means you deserve to come again. Come on, love. Give me another one.” 

That was enough to send me over the edge again, causing him to grunt against my ear as my walls constricted around him. After a few more thrusts, his groans turned to soft whimpers as he spilled inside of me. His arms tightened around me as he buried his face into the top of my shoulder. We stayed like that for a couple of minutes, attempting to catch our breath and come back to reality.  

I felt his lips against my skin, placing gentle kisses before he raised his head to look at me with a blissed-out expression. “You’re so fucking perfect. I love you. Have I told you that today?”

I smiled up at him, “You have, but you can tell me that as many times as you want.” 

He captured my lips in a brief kiss before pulling out with a groan. “Lemme see if I can find something to clean you up with.” 

I stopped him, “No, leave it. I wanna keep you close tonight.” 

His brows arched as he smirked at me, “Such a dirty girl. I fucking love it.” 

I gave him a quick peck on the lips, “I know you do. Now get dressed. We’ve probably been gone too long as it is.” 

He nodded as he turned to search out his clothes, tossing me my underwear before picking up his pants. We spent a few minutes getting decent. After touching up my makeup and sorting out Dieter’s messy sex hair, we finally made our way downstairs. 

Dieter had his hands on either side of my waist as he walked closely behind me, leaning in next to my ear to whisper about how he was going to take this dress off of me again later. Neither of us paid much attention as we rounded the corner to the living room, causing us to nearly crash into a broad figure. I felt Dieter stiffen behind me as I began to murmur my apologies until my eyes met the chocolate ones peering down at me. With a smirk that was still sexy as ever, Lucien de Leon spoke in that deep raspy voice that I knew so well, “Sorry sweetheart, didn’t see you coming.” He did not seem the least bit surprised to see me.

I felt like I was going to be sick as I wondered what the hell he was doing here. I felt Dieter’s grip tighten as he pulled me closer to him, “Lucien, I thought mom said you weren’t gonna make it?” His voice sounded off, almost like it was a warning more than a question. 

Lucien shrugged as he glanced at me, “I…changed my mind.” 

Dieter sighed, now peering down at me, “I guess I should introduce you…this is my brother, Lucien.” 

Brother? What. The. Fuck. I was struggling to breathe as I gave Lucien a nervous smile, reaching my hand toward him to shake and giving him my name like it was the first time we had ever laid eyes on each other. He hesitated, still with that smirk before finally reaching out to take my hand in his to play along. 

“So, you’re the one that’s turned my brother into a good boy, ehh?” he finally said in a teasing tone. 

I gave him a tight smile, “No. Your brother did that himself. He worked for it.”

Dieter was beside me now, eyes shifting between Lucien and I with raised brows. 

Lucien gave me an amused look before his eyes shifted to his brother, “Well, good for him. I’ll be shocked if it sticks.”

Dieter scoffed, “Fuck off. You don’t know me…I’ve changed.” 

Lucien rolled his eyes in response before changing the subject. A smug look suddenly forming on his face, “I got a call back on that new Scorsese film. It’s supposed to be a big deal.”

Dieter gave him a very unimpressed stare, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m trying to care, but it’s hard. Besides, they offered me the lead and I turned it down. I have a prior commitment. I already have my Oscar, so whatever.”  

I stifled a laugh as they exchanged a cold glare. Lucien seemed to break first, “Well, I’ll let you two get back to the party. I think mom was looking for you.” 

He walked away without another word, ending the childish pissing match between them for the time being. 

Dieter huffed, “Fucking asshole. Come on.” 

After taking my hand, he pulled me through the tightly packed crowd in search of his mom. I could feel his calming warmth radiating through my skin, but mentally I was somewhere else. Ten years in the past to be specific, where I first met Lucien. 

Lucien and I had been cast as the two leads in a play at one of the local theaters. Our relationship was all consuming, passionate, and toxic. We were right for each other in so many ways, but too broken to make it work. In all the ways that he was sweet, sexy, and charming he was equally as stubborn, selfish, and sometimes cruel. Not that I had been any better. Both of us were guilty of saying things we didn’t mean to purposefully hurt the other. We really did bring out the worst parts of each other. Though I still maintain most of our problems stemmed from his constant drinking. It was only ever bad when he was drinking. It turned him into another person that I eventually learned to hate and resent.

We tried being together several times over the years. It never failed. We would randomly run into each other in some public place, immediately fall back into bed and swear to do better, but it never worked. The same issues always inevitably reared their ugly head. I willingly gave him everything, and he broke me again and again. 

Knowing our history and how easily we always found ourselves back together was igniting a fear in me. We were like magnets. It was damn near impossible for us to stay apart from each other. I ruined many good relationships for him, but I couldn’t do that now. I couldn’t do that to Dieter. 

Dieter was amazing. He was all the things that Lucien was never able to be. He was all of the best parts of Lucien plus more. Dieter gave me his love and affection so willingly. With Lucien, I had to fight for scraps. Each little morsel kept my hope alive just enough to make me believe that he loved me as much as I loved him. Those little morsels were what kept me going for years, but in the end it wasn’t enough. 

As Lucien’s star began to rise in the film industry, we finally hit a wall. He was pictured kissing some model at a Hollywood party, which made it into the tabloids, and inevitably into my hands. It was my last straw. I hadn’t seen him in person since the night I confronted him about it and ended things. He eventually became fairly well known in the film industry. It didn’t take long for him to establish his reputation as a womanizer and Hollywood fuckboy. As far as I knew, he still had that reputation, even if he was now considered to be a D-list actor. 

It was a massive effort to keep myself in the present as Dieter and I mingled with his family and friends. It didn’t help that I kept catching Lucien’s gaze from where he wandered on the outskirts of the crowd. I knew exactly where he was at all times because I could feel his eyes burning into me. It was making me anxious. I knew him and I knew he wasn’t going to make this easy on me. We had played this game too many times. 

I needed a break, so I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Upon finding a line for the downstairs bathroom, I made my way upstairs since no partygoers were permitted up there. Once I was finally alone, I let out a sigh of relief. Now focusing on my breathing to try and get my heart rate back to normal. Being away from Lucien was doing me wonders, allowing me to ground myself and fully come back to the present. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t the same person anymore. I could resist him now.

After finishing up, I opened the door to exit but was suddenly crowded backwards into the small room. My nose was assaulted with the familiar smell of Lucien's musky cologne as he turned to close and lock the door behind him. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” I hissed. 

“I need to talk to you,” he answered with pleading eyes.

I shook my head, trying to push past him. “I have nothing to say, and I can’t be here with you.”   

He held out his arm, grabbing me around the middle to stop my progress. “Baby, please. I just wanna talk, I swear.”

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest as I moved to the opposite side of the room, “Don’t call me that.” 

“Why are you with my brother?” he asked. Not even acknowledging my demand.

I let out a sardonic laugh, “I didn’t know he was your brother.” 

His brows furrowed, “How the fuck did you not know we’re brothers?”

I scoffed, “You told me your brother's name was David.”

His brows raised, “It is…legally. Didn’t he tell you that?”

I rubbed a hand down my face, “You don’t even have the same last name! How the fuck was I supposed to know?” 

He looked amused now, “You didn’t think it odd that we look so similar?” 

I let out a controlled breath, “No, I didn’t actually. I have a type, OK. I know this. I just figured you guys looked alike in the way that Elijah Wood and Daniel Radcliffe look alike…or Javier Bardem and Jeffrey Dean Morgan…or Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen.” 

He chuckled, “You do know that Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen are brothers, right?” 

I sighed, “No, I didn’t. Maybe you fuckers should keep the same last name to cut back on the confusion.” 

He was smiling at me now, “You’re still feisty I see. God, I’ve missed that.” 

I held up my hand to silence him, “Don’t say shit like that.” 

“Come on honey, you know you miss me.” That ridiculous smirk was back on his lips as I glared at him. 

“So, I take it you haven’t told my brother about me after that little stunt you pulled downstairs.” 

I rolled my eyes, “No. Not by name anyway. All he knows is that I had a problematic ex that fucked me up.”

He sucked air through his teeth, “That’s harsh. You know you can’t blame all that on me.” 

I stared at him for a beat, “No. You’re right. You just added to it and took it over the top.” 

He came closer, causing me to back up against the sink as he looked me over from head to toe. 

“You look beautiful tonight. I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you…”

I refused to look his way as he leaned in closer, “I noticed. You need to stop it before someone notices.” 

His curved nose grazed the shell of my ear. I had to force my thighs not to clench together from the contact.

“I miss you ya know? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you…but you’ve been hard to track down. Now I know why.” 

I jerked away from him, “What do you want, Lucien? Your little game isn’t gonna work this time. I’m not falling for it. I love Dieter.”

His eyes widened, “Love? Well, that’s a development. I don’t remember you saying that about any of the others.” 

I rolled my eyes, “Yes. I love him…I’m happy. We’re…getting married.” 

He scoffed, “You realize he’s been married twice already…right? This isn’t new for him.” 

That hit a nerve, and he knew it. 

“That may be true, but he wasn’t sober then. He is now. He’s got his life figured out…unlike you.” 

He feigned offense, “Hey, I went to rehab too you know. I’m trying here. Which is why I wanted to talk to you. I need to tell you I’m sorry.” 

His energy shifted. I couldn’t tell if this was another one of his games or not. I was taken off guard as he turned away from me, seeming almost pensive as he continued. 

“I know…I’m a large part of the reason that we never worked. I was emotionally unavailable, and I let what little fame I managed to gain go to my head. I broke a lot of my promises…you deserved better.”

I let out a steady breath, attempting to control my emotions. I had waited years to hear those words, eventually accepting that I never would. Yet, here we were. 

“Well, I appreciate the apology. Thank you for that.”

He gnawed at his lip for a beat before turning to meet my gaze, “Do you think…maybe we could try again?”

Anger flooded through me. He was giving me whiplash from all the different emotions he was pulling out of me in such a short time period. I shook my head, biting back a disdainful laugh. “You have got to be fucking kidding me right now.”

It was his turn to shake his head, “No. I’m not. I’m still in love with you. It was always you. I was just too stupid to see it.” 

I felt near bursting into tears, and I wasn’t sure if it was from anger, pain, or something else. “I’m not doing this with you again.” 

His brows pinched together, “You really think he can make you happy? He’s nothing but the knock off version of me. You’re attracted to him because he reminds you of me. Admit it.” 

I scoffed, “You two may look similar, but Dieter is nothing like you. He and I have connected in ways we never will. If you wanna compare…he’s the name brand version that I should have started with. You were a bad decision, a waste of my time and money, and I can’t even get a fucking refund.” 

He pursed his lips, allowing time for the words to sink in. That hit a nerve as intended.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m sure my fiancé is wondering where I am. I can’t have him finding us in here together.”  

I brushed past him to unlock and open the door. He didn’t stop me this time. I felt strangely liberated as I made my way downstairs, never having been able to deny Lucien in that way before. I wasn’t weak anymore. I was the one in control. 

It didn’t take long for me to find Dieter. His tea kettle laugh could be heard over everyone else. All I had to do was follow the sound. As I approached, he wrapped his arm around me and placed a quick kiss on the top of my head before he went back to his conversation. I loved seeing him like this. His happiness from reuniting with his family after so many years of being ostracized over his bad behavior and drug habits helped ground me.

Dieter was attentive as we continued to mingle, making sure to include me in his conversations while keeping physical contact at all times. From the way he kept glancing at me, I knew he could sense the lingering tension from my interaction with his brother. He probably just assumed it was nerves from meeting his family and hopefully didn’t suspect anything, but I knew I would have to tell him the truth. And soon. 

Though I made a point to keep my attention on Dieter, I could still sense Lucien’s presence. It seemed like the harder I tried to ignore him, the more taunting he became. He worked his way through the crowd, becoming louder and more boisterous as the evening went on. With each pass around the room, I found him getting closer and closer. Eventually, I found him chatting in the groups near us, positioning himself where he was in my direct line of sight or close enough behind me that he could brush against me in some way. His proximity was affecting me in ways I didn't want to admit. There was something sort of thrilling about our secret and his audacious behavior that was arousing. However, the moment I looked at Dieter, it all disappeared. He was my life now. He held my heart carefully. Lucien never did anything but smash it into a million pieces. 

I briefly stepped away from Dieter to grab us a bottle of water from the kitchen. As I stood with the refrigerator door open, I was surprised to feel strong hands grip my hips, then slide around my waist to pull me closer. Plump lips trailed down the curve of my neck, causing me to suck in a breath. I knew instantly who it was from the way he touched me and the feel of his mouth. My body betrayed me, reacting on instinct as it melted into his embrace. My mind finally caught up, causing me to abruptly turn and push him away. 

“What the fuck is you’re problem, Lucien?” 

His cocky grin was back, “I’m just reminding you what you’re missing, baby. I can tell; you're questioning yourself. You’re not sure what you want. I’m here to make sure you know your options.” 

I scoffed, “You’re so fucking delusional. Leave me alone.” 

I grabbed a bottle of water, then slammed the door closed as I moved away from him. Once back with Dieter, I felt distracted. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Lucien’s lips felt on my body or the way his stupid gold chains used to gently graze against my skin as he moved above me. The thoughts caused that familiar ache to form at the apex of my thighs. I hadn’t seen or sensed Lucien since leaving him in the kitchen, yet he was still having this effect on me.

I suddenly felt hot and claustrophobic at the realization. I didn’t understand what it meant. Dieter noticed, leaning in to ask if I was feeling ok as his hand rubbed soothing circles on my lower back. I nodded, “Yeah, I think I just need some air.” 

He moved to come with me, but I stopped him. “No, you stay and talk to your uncle. I’ll be fine. I’ll be right back.” 

I soon found myself on the back patio, inhaling deeply to catch my breath as the chilly night air instantly cooled my burning skin. It was a relief and allowed me to calm the storm that was brewing inside of my mind. The reaction I was having to Lucien was purely physical. It meant nothing. I didn’t love him anymore. This would feel differently if that wasn’t the case. 

Suddenly, I felt that magnetic pull. My attention was drawn to the shadows, seeing the glow of a cigarette before Lucien stepped into the light. He came closer and offered it to me. 

I shook my head, “I don’t smoke anymore.” 

He shrugged, “Suit yourself.” 

There was an awkward silence that stretched between us as he puffed away until the cigarette was done. His mood now seemed a little more somber than it had in the kitchen. 

He finally spoke, “You know…I was just watching you two together…from out here. You’re different with him…and him with you. I can tell you really care about each other…and you lean on each other for support. That’s good. I’m happy you’ve both found that.” 

I was taken aback by his words, but I couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not. 

“Maybe one day I’ll find that too. I think it would do me some good.” 

I gave him a soft smile, “It always helps to have a support system.” 

He pursed his lips in thought, “Do you remember how we used to go to the video store and rent like five movies and stay up all night to watch them in bed?” 

I nodded and smiled at the memories. It was some of our happier times together. 

“You used to get so mad at me for eating chips in the bed because of the crumbs, but then I would always find stray peanut m&m’s a week later.”

I laughed, “Chip crumbs are way worse to clean than peanut m&m’s though.” 

He nodded and chuckled, “Yeah, maybe.”

His brows furrowed, “I don’t think I’ve eaten or watched a movie in bed since you left. That was our thing. I can’t do it without you.” 

I sighed, “Lucien, don’t do this. Please.” 

He held his hands up in surrender, “Just wait. I-I-I real- I-I really have to do this…I need to get these unresolved feelings out. I fucked up. A lot. I know this. I was selfish and mentally checked out before the good parts, the house…the kids, the Christmas cards. I’m sorry for that. I just felt so much pressure about it all. I needed to accomplish too much to get us there and I didn’t think I could do it.” 

He moved in closer, cupping my cheek as he gave me that baby cow eye look that always bent me to his whim. I couldn’t move or breathe. 

“I do still love you. I meant that. I would do anything to have you back.” 

He leaned in further and paused, giving me a chance to rebuff him again, but I couldn’t. I was still frozen by him, his words, his voice, his touch…I could feel that small ember that burned for him slowly igniting into a flame as I got lost in his soulful eyes. I felt confused. I couldn’t distinguish if it was my heart or cunt talking, telling me to at least see where things go. 

When I didn’t immediately pull away, he closed the distance between us, capturing my mouth with his. His kiss was commanding, confident, and sensual. It stirred something inside me that I admit I never felt with anyone else, not even Dieter. It was feral and uninhibited in almost an unhealthy way. He broke the kiss, both of us panting as our gazes met. My resolve was quickly crumbling, and he knew it. 

That cocky smirk returned to his lips as he took my hand and pulled me toward the side of the house that was hidden in the shadows. It was like my brain had switched into autopilot, entering the submissive state that he loved so much. 

After caging me in against the side of the house, his lips crashed into mine as he dipped lower to grind his hips against me. I could feel his hard length pressing against my center, and God I wanted it. I wanted him.

His lips began to trail downward, nipping and licking down the curve of my neck.

I sighed, attempting to gain my resolve as I managed to say, “Lucien, we can’t do this. It’s wrong.” 

My actions did not match my words as my fingertips knotted in his hair and held him tighter to me. I could feel him smiling against my skin, continuing to place small kisses between his words as he responded. 

“It’s not really happening. We’re just finishing unfinished business in a parallel universe.” 

I chuckled, “You’re so fucking ridiculous.” 

His lips were hovering near mine, smiling as he replied, “I know…that’s why you love me.” 

His words made me think of Dieter. That was always his response too. Lucien’s hand reached for the left strap of my dress, beginning to lower it off my shoulder before I stopped it and forced him to meet my gaze. 

“What about your brother? Your mom? If we do this, it’s gonna hurt them. I don’t think there’s any coming back from that.” 

He shrugged, “I don’t care. They don’t matter to me. I need you in my life. Please.” 

“You think I can hurt them like that?” I asked. His spell over me was quickly fading. 

“You’ll have me, baby. It’ll be ok.” 

As my eyes drifted over his stupidly beautiful face it was now obvious to me, he hadn’t changed. Not really. He might or might not be sober, but he was still a selfish asshole who only ever thought of himself. He still had a way to go before he actually had his shit together and learned to be a better person. 

He obviously couldn’t read the shift in my mood as he leaned in to suck on my neck. 

I moved my lips closer to his ear, “You know I just had sex with your brother less than three hours ago in his old bedroom upstairs.” 

He pulled away with a confused look. “What? You wanna fuck me in my old room too?” 

He was missing the point. This isn’t me. I don’t do this anymore.

“I can still feel his cum dripping out of me. Does that not bother you?” 

His brows furrowed as he turned away and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Fucking hell, do you have to be so crass about it? That’s not exactly what I wanna be thinking about right now.” 

I scoffed, “Crass? That’s ironic coming from you…and yes. If that’s what I need to do to get my point across, then so be it. I’m not that person anymore, Lucien. I’m putting an end to this now. I will not do this to Dieter…I love him too much. I’m not ruining my life for you ever again.” 

His jaw clenched, “Who says you would be ruining your life? I’m ready to settle down and have a family, a house… all the things I promised.” 

I had to bite back a laugh, “Then why don’t you do that with one of the five women you already have kids with.”

His brows arched, “Excuse me? I only have two kids.” 

He paused and grimaced, “There may be a third one, but I’m not sure what’s happening with that, yet...” 

My mouth dropped open with that news, “Oh and when were you gonna tell me about that? You’re seriously out here professing your love to me when you’ve knocked up someone else? You’re a real piece of work. You’re obviously still a hot fucking mess. I can’t believe you seriously think you can offer me more than Dieter.” 

He laughed as he crowded my space again, “Is that what it’s about? Money?” 

I pushed him away, “Fuck you. You know that’s not what I mean. He loves me and he makes sure I know it. I don’t have to beg him for affection or an emotional connection. He gives it willingly.”

He rolled his eyes, “Right, he must not give you everything you need if you’re melting in my hands so easily.” 

We were already sliding back into old habits by slinging insults at each other. This is why we didn’t work. 

“Did you miss the part where I said we just had sex? He’s much more attentive than you ever were. I’ve never had to fake it with him.” 

I could tell that was his final straw. There was no questioning Lucien de Leon’s skill in the bedroom. In his mind, he was a sex god. He wasn’t wrong. He was fucking amazing in bed, but he didn’t need to know I thought that. 

His jaw clenched as his face flushed with anger. He looked like he was considering his next words before he spoke. Obviously deciding he was going for maximum damage. 

“I got Delia pregnant.” 

I felt like a bomb had just detonated in my face, swallowing the world around us and leaving nothing but ringing in my ears. Once I regained my senses, all I could manage to get out was a strangled, “What?” 

He had his cocky asshole smile on now, suddenly playing it casual.

“Yeah, I saw her out at a bar several months ago. I wanted to ask her about you… and we just started talking…had one too many drinks…then went back to her place and spent all night fucking. We’ve seen each other on and off a few times since then. So, yeah. I knocked up your best friend.”

I hated him. I hated him for the way he had treated me and for whatever way he was about to treat her even though she should have known better. 

I scoffed, “You’re unbelievable.”

I pushed past him to go back inside. I could hear him apologizing as he followed behind me, realizing he finally took it too far. I was telling him to ‘fuck off’ just as Dieter stepped outside. Lucien and I stopped short at the edge of the patio when we realized Dieter was there, eyes shifting between the two of us as he worked out what he was seeing. 

I sighed, my eyes closing in defeat and shame realizing there was no way to get out of it, but I didn’t want him finding out like this. 

Dieter approached; lips set into a tight line as he continued to look between us. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Lucien looked at me with wide eyes. For once in his life, he was keeping his damn mouth shut. I inhaled deeply; my mouth opened but no words came out. I didn’t know where to start. 

Dieter’s brows furrowed, “You slept with my brother…didn’t you?” 

The look on my face must have told him all he needed to know as he pursed his lips and nodded in understanding. “I mean…it’s not the first time this has happened with him and someone I was dating. So, I shouldn’t be shocked.”

I stepped closer to him, “Dieter, it was years ago. Before I knew you…I didn’t know he was your brother or else I would’ve told you. I mean…I kind of told you, but I didn’t say his name. He’s the one that fucked me up so badly.”

I could see anger flash in his eyes as he shot daggers toward Lucien, realizing all the terrible things he had done to me. “I always knew you were an asshole, but damn. You need some serious help.” 

Lucien had the audacity to look offended by that before Dieter’s attention turned back to me. “And you…how the hell did you not know he was my brother? Everybody knows that.”

I scoffed, “You told me your brother's name was Richard. And you fuckers don’t even have the same last name…You know what, I’m not having this conversation again…” 

Dieter shrugged, “His name is Richard…legally. He didn’t tell you that?”   

I huffed, rubbing at my temple, “Fucking hell, you two. Maybe you’re more alike than I realized.” 

I couldn’t help the giggle that suddenly escaped as I peered up at Lucien, “Your name is actually Dick? That’s fitting…should have stuck with it.” 

Lucien rolled his eyes, “Fuck off with that.” 

Dieter snorted out laughter as he pulled me into his side, “I love you. Your so fucking perfect.” 

I sighed in relief as our gazes met, “You’re not angry with me?” 

He shook his head, “How can I be? It was years ago. Besides, I know how he is…always been more charming than me. All the ladies fall for him at some point. At least you’ve already gotten it out of your system.”  

Lucien suddenly looked disgusted as he muttered, “I can’t fucking believe this…”

My eyes narrowed at him, “Lucien, you really need to get it together…reevaluate your life. And it sounds to me that you have someone else you need to work things out with. Do right by her, please.” 

His brows pinched together as his eyes met mine. An understanding seemed to pass between us. We were done. For good. I gave him a tight smile as I nudged Dieter toward the door to go inside. Lucien didn’t move to follow, but I could feel his eyes on us until I closed the door behind us. 

A short time later, Dieter’s mom announced the news of our engagement to everyone. She didn’t hesitate to pull us in for tight hugs as she congratulated us with a wide toothy smile. I could see Lucien in my periphery, jaw tense with a slight frown on his lips and a bottle of something in hand. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Even with all the bravado and posturing, I could tell he was hurt. I didn’t doubt that he had feelings for me, but they were never enough to make him change his ways.

After Lucien left, things felt more relaxed. Dieter and I enjoyed the rest of the evening together, smiling happily as we told his parents goodbye to head home. We soon found ourselves snuggled up on the sectional next to the fireplace as we admired our first Christmas tree. Our conversation eventually turned to Lucien and our history. I helped fill in the gaps and answer any questions Dieter had, making sure he knew I was committed to him and him alone. 

“I know he’s your brother, and it may make things harder between you two, but I can never fully forgive him for how he treated me…but I do wish him well. I hope that he can get his life together and find peace.”

Dieter sighed, “He's such an almighty fuck up. And I love him…but he makes it hard. I miss who he used to be. We used to be so close…until the Hollywood lifestyle started getting to us. Everything became a competition and we both sort of spiraled out of control in so many ways. Maybe one day…I’ll get my brother back. I can’t forgive him for everything, but I can try.”

I squeezed him a little tighter, “Maybe you should offer an olive branch? Maybe he would let you help him get sober?”

Dieter pursed his lips in thought, “Yeah…maybe…”

Lucien’s POV

As I sat and watched the love of my life and brother announce their engagement to the family, a lot of thoughts and feelings were swirling around in my head. After seeing them together, I couldn’t deny they were both happy. She had chosen the better man. I accepted it at that moment, deciding it was time to move on. 

Not wanting to stick around and further wallow in my pain, I found myself outside Delia’s small studio apartment with a fresh bottle of bourbon in hand. I had been in denial about her for weeks. After our time together I was beginning to feel…something for her. She wasn’t the one that I wanted in my future, but that didn’t mean she was a bad choice. If she decided to keep the baby, she was going to be part of my future anyway. 

We spent some time discussing things and I assured her I would be supportive if she decided to keep the baby. Personally, I wanted her to. I had a sudden urge to try and make things work with her. As I laid next to her sleeping form on the bed, staring at the small christmas tree illuminated in the corner and nursing a glass of bourbon, my phone vibrated on the nightstand. I was surprised to see that it was my brother calling. I sighed, my thumb hovering over ‘ignore’ before I finally decided to answer. 

I quickly stood, moving to the bathroom to avoid waking Delia, then answered. 

“Well, well. Hello brother. To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

I could hear Dieter suck in a breath on the other end of the line, “I uhh…just wanted to check in and make sure you’re good.” 

His words and tone stirred something inside of me. This was the old Dieter talking. The one I cared about before things went to hell between us. It caused a rush of emotions that I had to fight back, inhaling deeply to collect myself before I answered,

“Yeah, I’m good…your girl really knows how to bring a man to his knees, but I’ll live. I can see that she’s happy and that’s all that matters. I’m moving on.”

Dieter chuckled, “That she can do…but that doesn’t mean she…that we…don’t care about your wellbeing. I want you to know that. If you ever decide…to try…to wanna get sober, I wanna help you. I want us to move past all the shit we did to each other and try to be brothers again.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was shocked, but I didn’t hate the idea. Deep down, I did miss my brother. I tried to cover my emotions with a snicker, “Well, isn’t this a Christmas fucking miracle. I guess this means the Bravo brothers are back…Maybe I’ll change my name again.”

Dieter laughed, “Let’s not get too crazy now…one step at a time.”  

My brows furrowed as tears formed in the corners of my eyes, “Do you think you could uhh…send me the information for that rehab place you went to?” 

I could hear the smile in his voice, “Yeah…I’ll send it right over. If you decide you wanna go…I can…take you…if you want?”

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. I had to clear the lump in my throat before I could respond, “Uh, yeah…I think I’d like that.” 

“Amazing…well…just tell me when you’re ready and I’m there, brother.” 

He sounded like he was fighting his emotions just as much as I was. 

“I will…It was…good to talk to you.”

“You too. Merry Christmas, Lucien.”

A small smile formed on my lips, “Merry Christmas, Dieter.”

After hanging up with Dieter, I didn’t think twice before seeking out the bourbon I had arrived with and pouring it down the drain. I could feel it. This was a turning point for me. A new path that I had to choose to take because I wanted to, not because it was expected. If Dieter could do it, then so could I. It was time I moved on with my life and found happiness too. 

As I snuggled up next to Delia, I could faintly envision our future together. If she was willing to try, then so was I. Maybe she was meant to be my happy ending…with the house, the kids, and the fucking Christmas cards.

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Thanks for stopping by!

I've gotta say...the speed at which I busted this out (less than 48 hours) has to be a record. And here I was worried it wouldn't be done by Christmas. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Happy holidays!🤣

👉If you're a Dieter lover (like myself) and you're new to my work, I have lots more for you to enjoy HERE. Including my mystical Christmas fic from last year. I've also got a little Frankie thrown on the masterlist too. Happy reading!💜

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Credits: MDNI & Support banner by @cafekitsune Christmas Lights by @strangergraphics

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Talk about a shock to the system when you technically did everything the safe way. Ooof.

I absolutely loved Benny in this though. He was such a sweetheart the entire time and handled the news so well…enthusiastically actually, and I loved that.

The smutty bits smutted nicely. I enjoyed his more playful approach. 😏

Thanks for sharing this with us, friend! So good! 👏👏👏

Hi, just wanted to say that I love your work! Especially with Benny and Frankie so much that I have an idea for Benny! Female reader (not picky about the name) meets Benny at a bar days after she catches her now ex-boyfriend cheating on her and they hook up at his place, but she leaves before he wakes up. She later finds out she's pregnant but doesn't tell anyone who the father is. Months later while still pregnant, her friends convince her to come with them to see a MMA fight and low and behold Benny is there fighting. He doesn't see her at first, but when the fight ends (which he wins) he sees her and she leaves abruptly while hiding her stomach since she's wearing baggy clothing. However, Benny manages to catch up to her, where she reveals the news to him. They then talk some more at her place where he reveals to her that she's been on his mind ever since that night and begins the start of something new.

One Night Can Change Everything

Pairing: Benny Miller x f!reader 

Word Count: 6400+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Rea is a general nickname for a “reader” character that @mermaidxatxheart came up with and I think that’s genius! This is not beta’d.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

“Ok, that’s it. I’m making you get out of this bed now,” My best friend Sage declares as she towers over my bed, where I have lived for the past several days. Ever since I caught my boyfriend sleeping with my co-worker. Co-workerS.

Ex-boyfriend now, I suppose. 

I groan, attempting to roll over but Sage grabs my shoulder and flips me back over, digging her fingers lovingly into my skin. “I love you Rea, I do. But you have to get out of this bed. He’s not worth it.”

She’s right. I know she is. But we had been dating for nearly 2 years, mostly. It was on and off, but we had talked about marriage, kids, all of it. I thought he would be my forever but apparently, I was his “for now”. 

Fuck this asshole.

I sit up quickly, nearly colliding with Sage, and yank the covers off me, determination flooding my veins, choking out the hurt. For now, at least. 

“Alright, alright. I’m up.”

Sage points to the bathroom. “First, please take a shower. Then we’re going to Mick’s.” 

I’d almost forgotten about Mick’s, Sage’s favorite bar. Probably because it’s full of rugged, blue-collar men and Sage definitely has a type. Not that I can blame her. 

“Ok, but I’m just going for you. And science.”

Sage snorts. “Sure, Rea. Sure. Don’t forget to shave.”

—--------------

An hour later and I’m walking into Mick’s front door, loud music vibrating through me. It’s busy, but I’ve seen it busier and we manage to snag a couple of stools at the bar. Within 10 minutes, Sage is led to the dance floor by some burly lumberjack, complete with flannel shirt and all. I throw my hand up in the air in a “what about me” motion as she glances behind her, shrugging and gesturing around the room before focusing all of her attention on the flannel clad bear of a man in front of her, who is surprisingly agile. I turn back to the bar, taking my hand off the top of my glass, tossing the last of the liquid down my throat, coughing slightly at the burn. I set my glass down, my finger trailing along the rim, wondering if I should call an Uber or wait for my friend, when a man slides in next to me, flagging down the bartender. 

“5 beers, please.” His voice has a slight drawl to it, his tone warming me all over. 

“Seems a lot for one man.” Where the hell did that courage come from?

The man, clad in a button up light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up that opens to reveal a camo print shirt, turns his head to me and for what feels like days, I’m rendered speechless. This man is gorgeous - a sloping nose,  sandy blonde hair that flips out from behind his backward hat, some patchy facial hair, and the most intensely blue eyes I’ve ever seen. They glance quickly down my body and back up, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“Ain’t all for me, sweetheart. Got a table full of impatient assholes waiting for a beer.”

I cock my head to the side. “You lose a bet or something?”

The man tips his head back and laughs, his shoulders shaking with it and I feel my body tingle. I could listen to that sound forever. 

“How the hell did you know that?” His smile is wide, all of his attention on me, his eyebrows raised in question.

I shrug. “I’d send the guy who lost a bet to get the first round, at least.”

He chuckles. “Smart girl…I’m Ben. Friends call me Benny.”

I tell him my name. “But my friends call me Rea.”

“I like that. Nice to meet you, Rea.” He sticks his hand out to shake mine, but before I can, 4 beers slide in front of him and he glances down at them, his shoulders dropping ever so slightly. 

Finding courage from somewhere, I lay my hand on his forearm and have to resist squeezing. “You have to go back so soon?”

He smiles again, the skin around his eyes crinkling with it. “Nah, sweetheart. I’ll be right back. Promise me you’ll wait right here?” There go the eyebrows again, pulling together and making him look like a puppy. Fuck I am so screwed.

“I’ll be waiting.”

He hesitates for a brief second before taking my hand and kissing the back of it. “Now that’s something to make a man move fast.” He winks, grabs the four beers, and heads off into the crowd, making his way towards the back of the room. Hate to see him leave, but damn I’m loving watching him go, his 6’3 frame easily visible over the crowd. He drops off the beers somewhere at the back of the room, turning quickly to push his way back through the crowd, his eyes locking on mine and giving me a sly smile. 

“You waited.” He slides back into the barstool next to me as I pull my leg from it, the universal gesture for this is saved.

Fuck his eyes are so blue. “You came back.”

A smile plays at the corner of his lips. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

I look down for a moment, my mind going back to my ex and all of his cheating, making me feel less than. Benny seems to sense something, his large hand hesitating a moment before he gently squeezes my arm. “You ok?”

I shake my head, my eyes locking back on his blues. “Yeah. I’m great now you’re here.”

Benny is easy to talk to, fun, and flirty. He’s in Delta Force, or was, with his actual brother, one of the men that he’d owed a beer to earlier. We talk about everything and anything, Benny eventually pulling me to the dance floor and whisking me about, sometimes dancing and other times being silly and smiling when I laugh. After several songs, we need a break, managing to snag a couple of stools at the bar, sipping on a couple of drinks. 

“So you live local?” He asks me, taking another swig from his beer.

I nod. “Yeah. I don’t typically come here, but my friend Sage dragged me out of the house.”

“Well remind me to thank her. She here?”

“Actually,” I turn and look out at the crowd for several moments, finally seeing her in the back corner, making out with Flannel Bear Man. I chuckle. “Yeah, she’s a little occupied.”

Benny chuckles, taking another swig of his beer, his free hand hesitating a moment before landing on my bare thigh, just above my knee. “Well I can keep you company.” 

His warm hand against my skin has my brain short-circuiting. I can’t think of what to say so I return his question. “Are you local?”

He nods, his thumb slowly rubbing circles across my skin. “Yeah. But some water main or somethin’ broke in my building. They put us all up in hotels until they fix it. Burst a few pipes.”

“Oh no! Is your stuff ok?” I place my hand over his on my leg, giving it a little squeeze and move it further up my thigh, heat immediately rushing to an area not far from where his hand is. 

He clears his throat. “Uh, y-yeah. Well, I had some water damage but didn’t lose anythin’ big. They just have to put down new floors.”

The music volume suddenly goes up by several volumes, turning the place into a mini club. Benny winces and I can see that it triggers him, the loud sounds and people becoming a little much. I lean in closer to his ear, gently rubbing circles into the back of his hand. 

“It’s too fucking loud! Wanna get out of here?” I pull my head back to look at him, our faces only an inch apart. His eyes flit between mine, briefly pausing on my lips.

“If you’re sure, hell yeah.”

I smile and he returns it before I lean back into his ear. “Let me flag my friend down and let her know. Stay right here so I don’t lose you.”

He turns his head, his nose brushing against my cheek. “I’ll be right here.” Hating that I have to move, I gently place his hand on his thigh and give him a wink before turning, scanning the corner where I had last seen Sage. She’s still there, Flannel Bear Man sucking on her neck. I force my way through the crowd and eventually emerge in front of her. Sage’s gaze takes a moment to settle on me.

“Rea! Where’ve you been?” She yells above the music.

I gesture to where I came from. “At the bar. Waiting for you.”

She gasps as Flannel Bear Man starts to bite her skin. “S-sorry, Rea. I-”

I cut her off, not wanting to intrude any longer. “No worries. I’m getting out of here. With a guy. I’ll get an Uber.”

Sage reaches out and grips my wrist, breaking the suction from Flannel Man who only seems to just realize I’m standing here. 

“A guy? You found someone? Do you need condoms?”

“Sage! I have to go!”

“Wait!” She pulls her clutch from somewhere and digs around in it, quickly sliding a few foiled square packages in my hand. “ Remember, it’s just a rebound. Don’t get attached. Have fun and be safe!”

I can’t help the heat in my cheeks, but I tuck the condoms in my bag. “Thanks. I’ll ping you my location.”

Sage releases my wrist and smiles at me before I turn back to Benny, shoving my way through more bodies on the dance floor. I emerge on the other side and see him still sitting where I left him, hat turned backward and looking so fucking hot. 

This is all so unlike me, but I like Benny. Sage’s words echo through my head “it’s just a rebound. Have some fun.”

I walk up to Benny and he turns his head, standing and giving me a wide smile. “Ready to go, sweetheart?”

I nod and he offers me his hand, which I happily accept, his touch warming me all over as he guides us through the crowd and out the front door, the volume immediately decreasing the moment the door closes behind us. 

“Now I can hear myself think!” Benny chuckles as he pulls my hand to his lips, lightly brushing them against my knuckles, his puppy dog eyes on mine. “Did you drive?

“Hhhm? Oh, uh no. Uber.”

Benny nods. “I have my jeep. I can drive us somewhere? Unless you’d feel safer using Uber?”

I study him for a moment, deciding that I trust him. “I love Jeeps.”

He smiles, his grip on my hand tightening slightly as he directs me to the parking lot, chatting a little too fast about his Jeep, like he’s nervous. He helps me into the passenger side, sliding across the hood to make it to the driver’s side quicker, smiling at my laugh. He starts the Jeep and gets the ac started before turning to me.

“Where to?”

It’s just a rebound. Have fun. “I’d love to see your hotel.”

His eyebrows raise, that same smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah? You don’t have to. I mean, we could just get a burger or somethin’.”

I look down at my hands in my lap. Did I misread the signals? He was definitely coming on to me, right? I wasn’t reading into that? Before I can spiral further, Benny puts his hand over mine. “Hey, look. I like you and think you’re fucking hot as hell and would love to take you to my room to uh, show you the room. But I don’t want to presume or make you feel obligated or anything.”

I would choose a fucking gentlemen for a rebound. Fuck. I close my hand over his and meet his eyes. “Thanks, Benny. I don’t want to push you or presume either.”

He chuckles once, removing his hand to put his Jeep in reverse and then back into drive. “Sweetheart, you can take advantage of me any day.”

That breaks the awkwardness and has us laughing, falling back into conversation easily as Benny navigates through traffic. Gently, I lay his hand on my bare thigh again, wrapping my hand over his. He’s talking about something, I honestly can’t focus because he’s started to move, his fingers tracing slow lines across my skin as his hand moves further up my leg, getting closer to where I desperately want him to be. We hit a red light and the Jeep goes quiet, Benny turning to look at me as he slides his hand further up, his pinkie finger just barely tracing the crease of my thigh, heat and wet pooling just beyond his touch. My lips part and I let out a gasp of air, my eyes finding his. 

There’s a moment of hesitation but then I grip his shirt, pulling him towards me, our lips crashing together. He nips at my bottom lip and I gasp, Benny taking full advantage to slide his tongue into my open mouth, a small moan escaping me. His free hand leaves the steering wheel to grip the back of my head, holding me to him as he explores my mouth. The car behind us honks and we jump apart, the light having already turned green. Benny sticks his hand up to apologize to the car behind us, driving on, but immediately places his hand back on me, this time, his pinkie grazes up my panties and I squirm a little in my seat, not used to this much attention. He stills his movements.

“Is it too much?” He’s actually concerned.

“More like, not enough.”

Benny makes it to his hotel in record time.

Heated touches and kisses down the hallway has Benny dropping his room key a few times. As he tries to jam it into the lock, I slide my hands around him from behind, moving up his stomach from under his shirt and fuck he has a nice body, my hands moving lightly over his toned chest. He finally jams the key into the lock and flings the door open, tossing his keys on top of the dresser. He spins back around to face me, his eyes blown wide and dark with lust. 

He swallows hard. “Are you…are you sure?”

I step close to Benny, gently take his wrist and turn his hand palm up. One hand still holding his, I open my bag and fish out one of the foil squares, and place the condom in Benny’s hand. He glances down at it before looking back at me, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“Rea, did you get a condom from your friend?”

I can feel the heat blooming in my cheeks. “No! I mean, technically yes but she-”

He cuts me off with his lips, one hand wrapped around my head and the other grips my hips, fingers digging into my skin as he pulls me flush against him. I can feel him hard beneath his jeans and I moan into his kiss, pressing myself against him so I can try to relieve some of the rapidly increasing hear between my thighs. He moves us and I feel the bed hit the back of my knees, but he holds me tighter before breaking the kiss. Both of us rip the shirts from our bodies, my bra quickly following. I reach for my pants but he grabs my wrists and stills them, his blue eys falling to my chest. He gently cups a boob and lightly pinches the nipple and I gasp, the small movement shooting straight between my legs. 

Then Benny sinks to his knees, eye level with my pants. He pops open the button on my jeans, sliding them down my legs where I help him kick them off. His large fingers trace the outline of my panties, the heat pooling there as I gasp at his touch. He hooks his fingers into them and slides them down my legs too, his eyes locked on the space between my thighs. 

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he half whispers. A half chuckle escapes me before it turns into a moan as he slides his nose up my slit, bumping into my clit. He growls, using my hips to push me down on the bed, tossing my legs over his shoulders like it was nothing. 

Which I have no time to think about because his mouth is on me, his hands on my inner thighs, pressing them further apart, widening his canvas. His tongue explores me, seeking all the areas that have me writhing under his firm grip. He somehow finds spots that I didn’t even know existed, sucking lightly, lapping, the coil of pleasure quickly tightening until a sound erupts from me, somewhere between a chant and a moan, my fingers gripping his hair to keep him in the same spot as he prolongs my release. 

My head is in a blissful haze, but I manage a whine as he pulls away from me, taking his pants off when he does. I hear the sound of the condom opening and I watch him as he rolls the condom on himself. I lean up on my elbows to see better, because he’s gorgeous, not girthy but longer, and definitely not anywhere near a size I’ve had in me. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take my time.” I blink, looking up at his face and see that there’s a hint of concern there, like he wants to make sure I’m comfortable.

I scoot further up on the bed to give him more space. “Don’t worry about me. I can take you.”

His eyes darken and he grabs my ankle, yanking me back down towards the end of the bed. I squeal, my body heating up again as he lowers himself between my legs. He pauses, his eyes bright as he glances between my own. 

“You’re so beautiful,” there’s that almost whisper voice again, his eyebrows pulling together so he looks like a puppy.

“So are you, Benny.” We take each other in for a few more moments, my body about to burst with all of the tension and hormones racing through it. “Now please fuck me, now.” I know I’m begging, but I don’t care. 

And neither does Benny, apparently, as he smirks. “Yes ma’am.”

He slowly presses his hips forward and I let out a moan as he stretches me, pushing further and further in. I’m not sure how, but he bottoms out, dropping his head to my chest, breathing heavy for a moment. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. Gimme a sec so I don’t blow my load like a teenager.”

I manage some sort of confirmation sound, but then a moment later, he slowly pulls out and presses back in, repeating this a few times so I can adjust to his length. It’s driving me mad and I writhe under him, feeling every inch of him as he slowly moves in and out of me. He pulls out, his hips pausing as he looks down at me and it’s like time stops. Just for a moment. Then his lips crash to mine as he pushes forward quickly, sliding into me in one fast movement and I cry out, my hands gripping his biceps, nails digging into his skin as his hips set a fast pace, his direction and speed adjusting to my moans of pleasure. Every time he pushes in, he hits a spot somewhere at the back of me, a place no one has touched, and it sends sparks through my vision, my entire body like a livewire as he pushes me towards the edge.

“Fuck, Benny, I’m gonna-” my body ignites, pleasure radiating out from my cunt, his name tumbling from my lips in praise, begging him to keep going, or stop, or do it again. I have no idea, my head so engulfed in pleasure. 

“Fuck!” He yells, pressing into me one last time before he grunts, little pants and gasps tumbling from him. His head falls to my chest as he comes down. 

We stay like that for several moments, trying to catch our breath. Eventually, Benny pulls out, tossing the condom in the trash can by the bed before rolling onto his back next to me.

“What’s your third favorite dinosaur?”

I laugh, my entire body moving with it as Benny joins in, tears running down our cheeks as my movements turn me towards him. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that question, let alone just after sex.”

Benny shrugs, smiling. “Had to break the tension and awkwardness somehow.” 

“Well that definitely works!”

His face grows serious. “You didn’t answer the question.”

After that laughing fit, I think on it a moment. “Pterodactyl. Because they can fly.”

Benny nods. “Interesting. What’s your favorite then?”

“Nope. I’m saving that answer for after round 2.”

His eyes grow dark almost instantly. “Round 2? Like, tonight?”

“Well, my friend gave me a whole row of condoms and I don’t want to take any home.”

—----

A few hours later, I’m laying in Benny’s bed, thoroughly fucked, Benny sprawled across the bed on his stomach, lightly snoring. He’s so fucking beautiful. But then Sage’s words echo in my head “It’s just a rebound. Have fun and bounce.” I sigh, unsure of what to do. I actually do like Benny, but is that just because he’s the first guy to actually pay attention to me in a long while? Self-doubt seeps in, my ex’s hurtful words and actions taking away the blissful feeling I’d had moments before. I shake my head, telling myself that if any of it was true, I wouldn’t be in a gorgeous man’s bed, a man who just spent the last few hours pulling every spark of pleasure possible from me. 

I quietly stand, gathering up my clothes. I get them on and lace up my boots, trying not to wake Benny. It’s better if I leave before he wakes up. Rebounds don’t work out anyway, so why prolong the inevitable? 

I turn to head towards the door and see the hotel pad of paper and pen next to the phone on the dresser. I stare at it a moment before grabbing the pen, scrawling a quick “Thank You” with a heart at the end. I slide it under his keys and walk to the door, glancing back at the sleeping form of Benny, the man who just restored my confidence. I close it quietly behind me, making sure the lock clicks into place and request an Uber to take me home. 

—----

Over the next few weeks, I try to get Benny out of my head. I try to stop thinking about him or talking about him. I know he’s a rebound, and those relationships don’t work out, as Sage has reminded me more than once. And I’m not sure I’m ready for a new relationship. I think. But talking to him had been so easy, effortless. Like we had been friends since forever. In a moment of desperation, I looked up the hotel on my Uber app and called it, knowing they wouldn’t give me any information about Benny. I can’t blame them. I don’t even know his last name. 

—----

2 lines. The pink lines emerge bright against the white of the testing stick, showing me the same result as the other 4 pregnancy tests I’d taken. My stomach lurches again and I make it to the toilet just in time. I close the lid and flush, wiping my mouth with a washcloth as I stare at my reflection. How the fuck did this happen? We’d used a condom every time, and he used them correctly. It must have been a faulty condom. Fuck, Benny. How am I going to tell him? No really, how? I don’t even know his last name and now I’m having his child. A knock at the door pulls me from my spiral.

“Rea?”

I sniff and wipe my face again. “Pregnant.”

She’s silent for just a beat. “Can I come in?”

I make a noise in approval and she opens the door, heads directly for me and pulls me into a hug where I let myself lose it. Tears streaming down my face, dry heaving breaths, all of it. It takes me a while to calm down enough to talk. Sage wipes my face with a cool cloth and it helps to soothe me a bit more. 

“Are you going to tell him?”

I scoff. “How, Sage?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Call the hotel? They have to have his info.”

I shake my head. “They won’t give it to me. Especially since I don’t know his last name.”

Sage cocks her head to the side. “How do you know?”

“Oh. I uh, I may have called a few weeks ago to uh try and uh…find. Him.”

She opens her mouth and then closes it. “That doesn’t really matter now. Do you know what you want to do?”

There’s so much I don’t know. I don’t know Benny’s last name. I don’t know where he lives, just that it’s local. I don’t know what he’d even say. I don’t know how this happened. I don’t know a lot. But there’s one thing that I did know right away.

“I’m keeping the baby.”

Sage takes a deep breath and nods once. “I can’t wait to be an auntie.”

—----

“Come on, Rea! You need to get out.”

I sigh, rubbing the side of my belly. “I’m 6 months pregnant, Sage. I don’t belong at an MMA fight.”

Sage copies my sigh and places her hand over mine. “You’ve been cooped up in your room for weeks. Just…come out to get some fresh air?”

“By sitting in a crowded auditorium surrounded by drunks?”

Sage shrugs. “I’m sure they won’t be drunk drunk. Besides, Henry has a special section all roped off just for us.” 

Henry is super sweet. The burly bear sized, flannel clad man from Mick’s had fit right into our friendship, even becoming a sort of surrogate brother for me. And it’s clear to me that he loves Sage with everything he is just by the way he looks at her.

I sigh again, shrugging in a defeated manner. Sage squeals and grips my arm. “Thank you! Oh, you’ll have fun! Just wait and see!”

So now I find myself in a crowded auditorium, surrounded by people drinking. Well, ok the crowd isn’t bad around us. Sage was right - Henry had literally roped off an entire section just for us and glared at anyone who tried to grumble about it. He was really into MMA and had a couple of cousins that were fighting so he always had tickets to some match that was happening. Are they called matches? I don’t know. 

Whatever they’re called, we’re a few in, Henry leaning over to tell us about each of the fighters as they’re announced. These matches are pretty brutal - I didn’t realize just how violent they can get, even with rules in place. The last match ends and the guy with the mop comes back out, cleaning away the blood that came from the last guy losing several teeth with a blow. Once cleaned, the microphone squeaks back on to announce the next fighters.

“From Red Feather Lakes, Colorado, standing 6’3, weighing in at 195 pounds, I give you BEN MILLER!”

A familiar memory scratches at the back of my head as the crowd screams and the doors open from the locker rooms somewhere in the throngs of people now on their feet. Henry leans in to yell in my ear.

“This guy is great! He’s kicked my cousin’s asses a few times! He…”

Whatever he said after fades into the background, which has dimmed to a loud hum, as Ben Miller struts into the ring, tossing his shirt to the side, revealing a very familiar tattoo and his face finally comes into my view.

Benny. 

My stomach leaps into my throat, my heart hammering through my chest as I stare down at the man who I could never shake from my mind, even before I was having his child. Which he doesn’t know about. 

A bell dings and Benny takes a few steps towards his opponent, who immediately clocks him in his jaw, Benny’s head flying backwards. The man manages to get a couple more hits in, Benny almost absorbing all of the hits. But then the man hesitates and Benny takes that moment to attack, winding his way around the ring, jabbing at his opponent in swift, concise, planned motions. The man only stays up for a few more seconds before crumbling to the ground and giving in. The crowd goes wild as the ref holds Benny’s arm in the air, blood trickling down from his nose, a giant smile on his face. My stomach lurches and I quickly stand, yelling something about the bathroom to Sage as I grab my jacket and run for the doors, the room suddenly too small and loud. I shove open the arena’s double doors and stumble out into the nearly empty hallway. The doors close behind me and I pause a moment, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself. But then the doors open behind me again and I attempt to stand up right.

“Rea?”

Benny’s voice echoes down the hallway and through me, my insides simultaneously tightening with nerves but also excited and swooning at his fucking calming tone. My back is to him but I don’t move. He takes a step closer.

“Rea? Is that you?”

Fuck. This isn’t how I would want him to find out. But how would he find out? It’s not like I could find him. I didn’t even know his last name. I don’t-

“Are you ok?”

His voice is closer now, only a few steps behind me. I swallow hard, willing myself to hold it together as I turn to face him, keeping my jacket covering my belly. His bright blue eyes immediately find mine, a smile quicking spreading across his beautiful face. He’s still shirtless and I have to focus to keep my eyes on his face.

“Rea! It is you! I thought I saw your face in the crowd! Did you see me fight?”

I manage a small smile. “Y-yeah. I did. Congrats.”

He shrugs. “Thanks. That guy was easy but when I saw you, I thought maybe he’d hit my head harder than I thought. What…I mean uh, how are you?”

I sigh, my small smile dropping. “I…I have to tell you something.”

His expression turns serious. “Ok. But if it’s about me not calling you, you sort of left me without a last name or number.” He chuckles but stops when I don’t react. 

I hold his gaze a moment longer before letting my jacket fall to the side, exposing my belly under my form fitting black dress. His eyes immediately fall to my belly, his head turning to the side as he takes it in. I can see the moment it clicks, only a second or 2 after I moved my jacket, his eyes widening as his brain works double time to do the math. He points to himself.

“Is that…am I…the dad?”

I nod, rubbing my hand along the side of my belly where the baby is currently moving. “Yes.” I wait for the yell or scoff of disbelief, storming off, telling me I won’t get anything. All of what I had anticipated. But when I look up at him I see tears shining in his bright blues.

“You’re not fuckin’ with me?” His eyebrows pinch together, enhancing the shine from his tears and I shake my head.

“No. You’re the only one I’ve been with since my ex.”

His eyes shift down to my belly again and his hands start to reach out, but then he stops, looking back up at me. “May I?”

I give him a small smile and nod. “Yeah.”

Benny drops to his knees in front of me, placing each of his large hands on either side of my belly, rubbing small circles into my skin. I take his hand and move it, placing it right over where I’d just felt movement. 

“He was just kicking over here.”

His eyes shoot up to mine. “A boy? I’m gonna have a son?”

Fuck how can his eyebrows do that? “Yeah. A son.”

And the tears start to fall, quietly streaking down his cheeks as he laughs, trying to dab at them with the hand I hadn’t just moved. “Hey, little man. It’s me. Your dad.” A hard kick lands right in Benny’s hand and he whoops, rubbing the spot with his thumb. “You got your old man’s feet!” He continues to talk to my belly in the middle of the hallway, not caring if anyone sees him. His face is animated and lit up, despite the dried blood caked under his nose and for a second, I can see an entire future laid out before us. A wedding, a house, dancing together, maybe more kids. The love. It’s only when I snap out of this fairytale vision that I realize I was smoothing back his hair. I yank my hands back and drop them to my sides.

“Shit I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

He glances up at me. “Nah it’s ok. Actually, it felt good.” He watches me for a moment before his expression hardens. “Ok I need to get off this floor.”

He waves away my offer of a helping hand, gesturing towards my belly as he groans, standing to his full height before stretching out his legs. “I’m gettin’ too old to be kneeling on hard ass floors.”

We’re quiet for several moments, each of us just watching the other. 

“Why did you leave without sayin’ anything?”

I take a deep breath. “Benny, I…I’m sorry. I thought about you after that night. A lot. My friend had told me to just make it a rebound, to get my ex out of my head. Which it did, but what I didn’t expect was..well..you. I liked, well…like you a lot. You make me laugh, have some amazing stories, you’re funny, and hot as hell. But you also make me feel seen and heard. Like I wasn’t just there for convenience, which is ironic considering how we met, I realize that. I thought about trying to find you but the hotel wouldn’t tell me anything and I didn’t have anything to go by. And then I found out I was pregnant and I feel so guilty for not t- telling y- you, but I di-didn’t know h-how. I’m so s-s-sorry!” I can’t fight the pregnancy hormones anymore and the tears come, streaming down my face as I try to turn away, looking down and wiping furiously at my face. But then he’s there, pulling me towards him as best he can, his hand cradling the back of my head. 

“Hey, it’s ok. I never did tell you my last name or ask for your number neither. I could’ve but I didn’t.” My crying slows and he pulls back just enough to look down at me, wiping away a tear. “And I’ve regretted it ever since. I haven’t stopped thinkin’ about you either, Rea. But I really had no way of finding you. But now that we’ve found each other again, can I have your number? I’d really like to take you to dinner.”

I let out a shaky chuckle. “It’s ok, Benny. You don’t have to do that.”

He cocks his head. “Do…what?”

“Take me to dinner. Listen, you can be as involved as you want. I won’t hold you to anything. I just wanted you to know. But you don’t have to-”

“No. I’m not asking you out because you’re pregnant. I’m asking you out because I’ve wanted to for months and regretted it every day that I didn’t.”

“Benny, really. It’s ok.”

“No, I- will you wait right here a moment?”

I nod and he places his hand on my belly once more, his son giving him another thump before he practically runs back through the double doors. Once they close, I walk over to the wall and lean my back against it, my emotions running through me. Is he telling the truth? Were we both just fucking idiots? That’s an obvious yes. But still, I don’t want him to feel like he owes me. It would be nice to hang with him again, though. No, Rea. Don’t make him feel forced. The double doors fly open and Benny comes running up to me, his wallet in his hand. 

“I don’t need money, Ben-”

He shakes his head. “No. Well I mean if you need it, I’ll gladly give it but that’s not…here.” He slides out a small slip of paper from behind his driver’s license and unfolds it, handing it to me. 

It’s the thank you note I scribbled to him and left in the hotel.

Tears well in my eyes again. “You..you kept this?” 

His eyes sparkle as they look at me. “Hell yeah I did. I told you, I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. But I had no way of findin’ you. I went to the bar every night hoping to see you walk in. But I never did.”

“I got too busy with work and then..” I gesture down to my belly and he laughs, placing a hand on my stomach again.

“Yeah I can’t blame you for not wanting to be in a bar. Especially your first trimester.”

My eyebrows raise. “What do you know about trimesters?”

“My sister was a hot fuckin’ mess during hers. Sick all the time, emotional, all of it. She felt bad about it too no matter how much we told her not to worry. My niece is 5 now and has the attitude to match.” He chuckles. “I can’t wait to meet this little guy..my little guy. Ours? Fuck this is hard to say.”

“Either way, I’m just glad you can say it.” I clutch the paper in my hand for a moment before handing it back to him. 

“So when’s that dinner?”

We’re married a year later. 

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

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[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

I’ll admit I’m not as familiar with these Norse gods, so I was a bit lost on that part in the beginning. However, it all came together in the end (in my brain) and I love how you incorporated all the different elements for it.

I was excited to see Ezra and Pero make an appearance. They were fun and I think you captured them well, especially Ezra and his loquacious and magniloquent way of speaking. Bravo for that! 👏

I love the way you have characterized Jack. He was sweet and such a cheeky gentleman. I wouldn’t be able to turn him or his Stetson down either.

This was a wonderful read. Thanks for sharing it with us! 💜

Ocean's Gold - An Offering of Frith story

Pairing: Jack Daniels / Agent Whiskey x f!Reader Word Count: 6.4k Rating: Explicit - 18+ ADULTS ONLY, MDNI Frith Challenge god: Ægir

Summary: Jack Daniels, retired from the Statesmen, signs you on as the business partner for his new brewpub. Sparks fly, and you wonder if it could ever be more.

Tags/warnings: Tags/warnings: alcohol (beer) is a major part of the story, consumption of food & alcohol, a sprinkling of angst, fingering (f receiving), oral (f and m receiving), protected PIV, Jack is an absolute consent king & safe sex advocate, semi-public sex (1 scene), absolute tooth-rotting fluff (these two are SO CUTE). Reader has she/her pronouns and identifies as female, has a name (not including it yet to keep it a surprise!) and some backstory but otherwise there are no physical details included - it's you, darling! (psssst: 2 other P boys make a guest appearance!)

a/n: This is my (belated) entry for @perotovar's Offering of Frith Challenge. My P boy/Norse god combo was Jack Daniels & Ægir. This is actually my first time writing Jack! It was such a fun challenge, and although I was honestly initially scared that I bit off more than I could chew, I ended up loving what I've written. I hope you do too! (See the afterword for more details on Ægir and other nods to Norse mythology/traditions that I sprinkled in!) Thank you Erin for hosting this challenge, and @for-a-longlongtime for being my cheerleader, beta reader, and telling me over and over that I could do this! Moodboard by @perotovar, dividers by @saradika-graphics.

Just breathe, you got this.

You straighten out your outfit in the mirror in an attempt to quell your nerves. Dark jeans, espresso leather lace up boots, cropped well-worn Fleetwood Mac graphic tee, and your favorite blood red blazer. You swipe on a matching red lip, nod at yourself in the mirror, and leave your apartment to walk down to the brewery.

The 3 block-long walk gives you time to review what you learned about the business opportunity. Jack was a recently-retired government operative who inherited a large sum of money and wanted to use it to open a brewpub. A smart businessman already, he knew that in order for his brewpub to be successful - regardless of how good his beer was - he needed to have a damn good pub restaurant, too. Which is why you’re swinging open the brewpub’s doors on a mild fall evening, CV in hand: as it turns out, you were looking for your next culinary opportunity. After working in a number of prestigious kitchens, you itched for the opportunity to build something of your own, something homey that you could be proud of. This position is exactly the kind of project you hoped for.

You step into the building, the interior clearly unfinished, but with good structure to it - high vaulted ceilings, good natural lighting, and two levels. Three, if you count the brewery on the floor below you to the left, where you could see the tops of large brewing fermentation vessels.

“Hello?” you call out into the barebones building, looking around for signs of life.

“I’ll be there in a jiffy!” you hear from someone below you, presumably Jack. In a moment, you see him emerge from the staircase leading to the brewing area, and you feel your breath catch in your throat.

Holy hell, you didn’t know he was THIS hot.

Walking towards you was easily one of the most handsome men you’ve ever set eyes on. Tall, incredibly broad-shouldered, and golden-skinned, Jack sauntered up to you wearing a white t-shirt stretched across his chest, dark jeans, black Wellingtons, and a belt with - is that a whiskey flask buckle?

“Rán, I assume?” Jack broke into a wide smile, offering up his hand. You shook it firmly, reveling in the warmth of Jack’s hand and how it dwarfed yours. Keeping your eyes locked to Jack’s amber ones, you returned his smile and nodded.

“It’s so nice to meet you in person, Jack,” you said, taking another glance around the interior. “The place has good bones.”

“That is does,” Jack responds, looking around as well. “I have high hopes for this place. And you seemed like the perfect person to hook up with to get it done.”

Your eyes bug out for a moment before you can school your face, but the heat starts creeping up your neck anyway. I’m sure he didn’t mean it that way…

“Oh, hell,” Jack sputters, “That’s not what I meant! I… dagnabbit, I’m already blowing it…” He runs his hand through his dark brown waves, thoroughly embarrassed. “I meant to partner with. On this business venture.” Jack looked at you, face flushed, eyes pleading. You couldn’t help but let out the giggles coming from your chest.

“Hardly blown, but maybe we can have some of that beer you promised me and start over?” you suggest, tilting your head towards the brewery. Jack looked relieved and nodded in agreement. 

“Follow me, darlin’, and I’ll take you to my mad scientist lab,” he says as he motions towards the staircase. Following his broad frame (good god, those shoulders are so wide) down the steps, you emerge in the brewery, the heart of the business. Gleaming stainless steel fermentation tanks tower above, the immaculate floor wet, looking recently sanitized. The smell of malted barley and herbaceous hops permeates the air, and the brewery area is compact yet efficient. Everything looks perfectly kempt, a testament to how much Jack cares about his beer. On a wall hook near the entrance hung a black leather jacket and a black Stetson cowboy hat. You notice a small farmhouse table set up nearby the office area with two glasses set atop. 

He set this up just for us?

Your eyes meet Jack’s, your mouth a bit ajar, and he smirks, pulling out a chair for you like a real southern gentleman. “Think I wouldn’t pull out all the stops for my hopefully-soon-to-be business partner?” You sit, and he walks to the carbonation room to fetch his brew of choice. Returning with the deep brown glass growler, Jack raises it towards you in offering. You nod, pushing your glass closer and he pours the liquid within out. A pale golden beer flows into your glass, creamy foam gathering on the surface. He pours himself some, then sits down at the other end of the table. 

“This is somethin’ I’ve been workin’ on for the grand openin’,” he explains, motioning to the beer. “It’s a farmhouse ale, what’s usually referred to as a saison. I’m callin’ it Ocean’s Gold. I want it to be the flagship brew. Please, try it and let me know what you think.” Your eyes flick to the glasses, and then with a small smile, you bring it up to your lips and drink. The beer is full-bodied, malty but light, with citrus and peppery notes dancing across your tongue. The finish is dry, resulting in a beer that’s incredibly drinkable and refreshing.

“Holy cow, Jack,” you breathe out, astounded at his skills. “That’s so delicious. You’re one hell of a brewmaster.”

Jack chuckles, grinning warmly. “Why thank you, sugar,” he croons, making the heat rise up the back of your neck again. Damn those Southern nicknames, you think to yourself, willing your nerves to calm. “Hopefully I’m as good of a brewer as you are a chef. I’ve been askin’ around, and word on the street is that you’re one of the best and hardest working chefs people have worked with.”

“Well, that’s high praise,” you reply, “but I’m glad to hear it. I pride myself on my work ethic and food is my first love, as it seems like brewing is for you. What sort of place do you want the brewpub to be?”

Jack contemplates his answer. You see his face get more serious, but nothing but passion shines from his eyes when they lift to yours. “First and foremost, aside from serving up the best beer this side of the Rockies, I want this place to be ingrained in the community.” You sip your beer as Jack continues. “This place has given me so much, and I want to give back. I want a place where everyone feels welcome, ya know? Whether they want to share a pint with a friend, get a bite to eat with loved ones, or meet new people who share their love of good food and beer, I want them to feel at home.”

A wistful look passes over Jack’s face, and he pauses to meet your eyes again. “Now, I don’t wanna overload you with too many details, but this part is pretty important to me, and I wanna make sure that whatever business partner I end up with is on the same page.” You nod, encouraging him to continue. “Now, when I was growing up, my family didn’t have the most to live on. A lot of times we went hungry, and it was only through the kindness of strangers that we got to eat then. I have this idea for a ‘pay it forward’ type meal program. Folks can come in, pay $5, $10 for a prepaid meal ticket. We’d put those paid vouchers up somewhere and if someone is hungry and doesn’t have the money to pay, they can take one of those vouchers and we’d give ‘em a hearty meal, free of charge.”

Jack takes a breath and closes his eyes for a moment, then looks back over at you. You can feel your heart ache for this man who clearly had to work hard to be where he’s at, now wanting to share his wealth with those less fortunate than him. You try to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Jack, that’s… incredible,” you finally get out. This degree of selflessness wasn’t common in business owners in the circles you existed in. “I’d be honored to help you make that dream a reality.”

“Is that you sayin’ you’ll saddle up with me, sugar?” Jack looks at you with hope in his eyes. Your heart leaps, and you try to calm it down as you nod affirmatively. This is a business deal, your brain warns your heart. It beats fast anyway.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Jack beams, excitement rippling off his body. “Can’t wait to build this place up together.”

You grab the growler and fill your and Jack’s glasses, raising yours to his. “Cheers to a fruitful new partnership.” Your smile reflects Jack’s, and you both drink up.

The next 9 months are a whirlwind of activity. After your official business documents were drawn up and signed, you and Jack worked night and day to get the brewpub ready for the following summer. You designed the interior, fitting the place with warm dark wood and brassy golden fixtures. Chic firepits dotted the outdoor patio in the back. You included subtle oceanic iconography wherever you could – the sea was a huge inspiration for the both of you. Jack worked tirelessly on a signature lineup of beer, as well as a couple of seasonal offerings to add variety. Meanwhile, you toiled in the kitchen, experimenting with flavor profiles and dishes until you’d perfected your menu. You laughed and joked as you worked together, getting to know each other’s backstories as well as each other’s preferred workstyles. You talked and dreamed, debated and sometimes argued - after all, both of you were stubborn - but always worked things out. You kept him on his toes, and he kept you grounded.

Oftentimes, you and Jack used each other as taste testers, knowing the both of you would give honest feedback. On one particular evening in the late winter, you were sitting at the half-finished bar, sipping on a trial seasonal amber ale that Jack fermented in whiskey barrels. 

“I never asked you where you got your name from, darlin’,” Jack mused, taking a gulp of his beer afterwards. “It’s quite unusual.”

“Ahh yes,” you responded, a smirk turning up your lips. “That would be thanks to my literary professor grandmother. She specialized in studying mythology texts from around the globe. Rán is the Norse sea goddess of death.” You saw Jack’s eyebrows twitch upwards in surprise, and you chuckled a bit before continuing. “That sounds intense, but she is also seen as the caretaker of those who die at sea. She helps care for them until they are ready to move on to the next realm. My grandmother wanted me to be tough, suffer no fools, but to also be kind and care for those that need it.” 

Jack huffs in amusement. “Sounds just like you. She did a good job with that name.”

You smile, swirling your glass in thought. You look up at him, but his warm chocolate eyes are already on you, a flicker of something in them that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Jack?” you start. “There’s something I wanted to ask you about the ‘giving back’ part of the business.” You take a deep breath, your true passion project in your mind. “A long time ago, when I was much younger and just starting my culinary journey, I worked at an assisted living home, specifically for those with Alzheimer’s disease. It paid terribly, but I got a lot of experience in preparing food in a foodservice setting. It also deeply affected me. You don’t realize how important food is to people. Sometimes family members would ask if we could put something special on the menu, a dish their loved one used to make or loved to eat, to see if they would remember. We wouldn’t make any promises, but I’d always remember which request was from which family. When we were able to accommodate those requests, I’d see these people whose minds… for lack of a better term, seemed to be proverbially lost at sea… but they took one bite of their favorite food, and their whole face lit up. Sometimes it was simply enjoying the food, but other times it would trigger fond memories.”

Your eyes began to water, and Jack reached across the table and grabbed your hand, gently stroking his thumb across the top. You swallowed, continuing. “I hated that I had to leave that place, but my career wouldn’t go anywhere if I didn’t, and the money wasn’t nearly enough to pay the bills. I always thought, if I was in a place where I could give back, I would love to donate my time and supplies to cook for people like that again.” You look into Jack’s eyes, a swirl of emotions in yours. “Do you think… we could maybe do that with the brewpub? Take a day off every month or so to cook for an Alzheimer’s assisted living home?”

Jack squeezed your hand. “Of course, sugar. It means a lot to you, and it’s helpin’ the community. I couldn’t think of a more worthy cause.”

A tear slipped down your face as you smiled and mouthed “thank you” at him. But your breath caught in your throat when Jack reached up to tenderly wipe away the tear from your cheek. You stare at each other, a charge running through the air. 

Kiss him, your heart whispers.

But instead, you clear your throat, squeeze his hand and throw on a grin. “I’d love some more of that ale if you got any more.”

Jack smiles softly. “For you? No charge.” You both giggle as he goes to grab another pint for you.

He’s just a business partner, your brain reminds you. But he’s become more than that, you realize.

A friend. A partner in dreams.

Maybe more, says your heart.

A few months later, the brewpub is bustling.

With the support of some of your industry friends - and your and Jack’s hard work - The Gilded Wave opens with a bang. Business is booming; the restaurant is constantly busy, and Jack is so swamped with the microbrewery that he had to hire two additional assistant brewmasters to keep up with demand. You are speaking to your front-of-house manager when two very familiar faces burst through the front door.

Your face lights up. “Pero! Ez! What are you guys doing here?” you exclaim as they wrap you up in a bear hug. You squeal as they lift you into the air with ease.

“We heard through the ever-whisperin’ grapevine that our sweet Birdie built her very own nest and we just had to come see for ourselves,” Ezra drawls, his characteristically charismatic smirk alighting his face while he takes in the brewpub. “What a perfectly festooned establishment you got here! I sure do hope the fine provisions match the opulence of the aesthetics!”

You shake your head, giggling at Ezra’s always-fanciful dialogue, as Pero rolls his eyes at his companion. “It’s lovely to see you, hermosa,” he rumbles, kissing your cheek. 

“I missed you both so much! Wanna sit at the bar and I can set you two up with some beer & food?” you offer.

“That would be fabulous, Birdie!” Ezra exclaims, clapping his hands together. “I am in need of libations like an earthworm in the midday sun.” The two men plunk themselves down at the bar, and you turn to your bartender.

“Eddie, do you mind sending in an order of garlic fries and crispy artichoke hearts for these two gentlemen?” Eddie nods and starts punching in the order in the system. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Jack coming up from the brewery stairs, wiping his brow after checking on the brewing. “Jack! Come meet some friends.”

Jack grins, loping up the rest of the stairs. He swaggers up to the bar, looking at you expectantly. 

“Jack, this is Ezra and Pero. We worked together in a bunch of restaurants over the last few years.” Jack smiles widely, shaking the hand of each man and exchanging greetings.

“Guys,” you say, “this is my business partner Jack. He’s the brilliant brewmaster keeping this place busy.”

“Aww, shucks, sugar,” Jack guffaws, “this place ain’t what it is without your excellent food. Only so long a man can survive on beer before he needs to eat. And what an incredible menu it is!”

You feel your cheeks heat with the compliment. “Jeez, don’t make me soft in front of these two. I’ll never hear the end of it!” You punch Jack in the shoulder playfully, and your friends snort.

“Rán? Soft? No way, only if she really likes you,” Pero gruffs with a laugh. “She used to make grown men cry when they’d try to start shit with her.”

You turned to Jack with a smirk. “I told you I suffer no fools.”

Jack puts his hands in the air playfully in mock surrender. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.” He turns to Pero and Ezra. “Would you two like to act as my beer guinea pigs for a moment? I have a new winter ale that I’m looking to perfect before the season hits us.” Your friends nod in agreement and thanks, and Jack turns to the bar, pouring from an unmarked tap that he keeps just for his trial brews. He slides the taster glasses to Ezra and Pero, and your friends sip in contemplation.

Ezra immediately starts speaking, as per usual. “Why, Jack, that is one of the finest ales I’ve ever had in my many turns around this here planet! The spice notes, they’re so unique! Is that coriander and ginger I’m picking up?” He sips again before Jack can speak. “Maybe some citrus?”

“Mighty fine palette you have there,” Jack responds. “It’s a white ale I’ve spiked with coriander, ginger, and orange peel. Gives that warm holiday feeling.”

Pero nods, eyebrows raised. “Now that, amigo, is a good beer.” He raises his taster in salute, then downs the rest.

You giggle and slap his hand. “Tovar! You’re supposed to savor it!” Pero only shrugs.

“It’s quite alright,” Jack chuckles. “They can each have a full pint with all the compliments they’ve lathered me up with.” You roll your eyes at your friends, and rub Jack’s shoulder in a “thank you” gesture. Pero clocks the move, and raises his eyebrows in question. You silently beg him to not ask anything.

Jack places two pints of the white ale in front of the men. “Well, fellas, thanks for coming in. I have to go back down to the beer lab now that I know this winter recipe is locked in. It’s been great meeting the two of you, and I hope to see y’all around again!” 

Pero and Ezra bade farewell to Jack, who disappeared back down the stairs just as the fries and artichokes arrived to the two of them. Both men dug in, nearly moaning in pleasure at the food.

“Birdie, this is incredible,” Ezra exclaims, dunking a fried artichoke into the aioli. Pero nods in agreement.

“Thanks, guys,” you coo, pleased that two of your longest friends approved of your menu. The three of you are silent for a moment, a rare occurrence when around Ezra.

“So what’s with you and Jack?” Pero asks bluntly. You nearly choke on the garlic fry you swiped from the basket. Ezra giggles into the artichokes.

“Nothing is going on,” you stammer, coughing slightly. “He’s my business partner.”

“Hermosa, I know you well, and you’ve never rubbed my shoulder like that,” Pero levels.

“I will say,” adds Ezra, “I could detect a certain… aura around you when Jack came upstairs. I have also never experienced that around you.” 

“Guys, we are business partners,” you assert. “We just got close ‘cause of how intertwined our work is.”

“Yeah, I’m sure there was some intertwining happening…” Pero mutters, and you slap him upside the head. Ezra titters uncontrollably.

“Alright, Birdie,” Ezra relents, “we’ll leave you alone about handsome Mr. Jack for now. But his winter ale did alight some thoughts in my head about a certain gathering…”

You groan. “Ez… we just opened up not that long ago. I can’t in good conscience ask Jack to let our ragtag group of friends take over the brewpub for our yearly winter debauchery.”

“But what if we profusely pledge to be on our most upstanding deportment?” Ezra begs, batting his eyelashes comically while putting on his best puppy face.

Pero snorts. “Fat chance at that. But I do like the idea.” He turns to you, raising an eyebrow.

You stare at them for a few moments more, and then your resolve crumbles. “Alright, you two hooligans, I’ll ask. But NO promises, okay?” Ezra cheers and wraps you in a tight hug, while Pero gruffs in agreement and stuffs a handful of fries in his mouth.

Surprisingly (or not so surprisingly, as he is so sweet and accommodating), Jack is enthusiastic about hosting your friend group’s annual winter party, saying how excited he was to meet your friends. You and Ezra planned for weeks, and Pero came through to help you and Jack decorate the place. The warm wood is hung with pine and holly garlands, twinkling string lights criss-cross along the walls and ceilings, and pine cones are tucked into various corners of the space. A yule tree sparkled in an alcove, decorated in reg, green, and gold. And you made sure to pin up a few sprigs of mistletoe, one of your favorite traditions of the season. Back at your apartment, you slip on a sumptuous golden silk dress that clings in all the right places and flows beautifully to show off your figure, and strap on matching gold heels. Swiping on the same crimson lipstick you wore when you met Jack as a finishing touch, you smooth your outfit and walk back to the pub.

Soon enough, your friends began to pour into the space, bringing with them various foods and drinks. Jack made a special batch of wassail for the occasion, and Ezra dramatically waxes poetic about how good it is while Pero rolls his eyes at him, as usual, in the corner. The space fills with laughter, clinking glasses, and the smell of delicious food. You and Jack act as the gracious hosts, making sure no one’s glasses are empty and all the plates are full. As you’d hoped and prayed, Jack gets along amazingly well with every single one of your friends. He jokes and roasts; listens intently and carefully to people’s stories. He extends a warmth and familiarity to all, and more than once you get nudged suggestively, eyebrows wiggling and giggles whispered into your ear about how wonderfully well you and Jack work together. You flush with heat every time, and it’s hard to deny the chemistry between the two of you. Beyond being fantastic business partners, you admire Jack’s adeptness, his dogged cleverness, and most of all, his heart. Jack’s got one of the biggest hearts you’ve ever come across.

And, even if you fight it, you realize that Jack’s worked his way into your heart, too. All night you’ve been exchanging charged glances, sly smiles, little winks here and there. Jack places a warm hand on the small of your back while passing you. You press your body subconsciously against his while reaching for another glass. Fingertips brush, sparks fly. 

By the time your friends trickle out into the night, merry and full, the heat between the two of you is palpable.

You’re cleaning up the bar area when Jack approaches you, two glasses of wassail in his hands. “Outstanding shindig you threw, darlin’,” he observes, passing you a glass. You clink your cup against his and take a sip, savoring the way the ale, sweet honey, and spices swirl across your tongue. 

“We threw the party, Jack,” you correct. “You were just as good of a host as me, if not better.”

Jack smirks. “Well, it’s easy when you have such fun friends.”

“They are fun for sure, although I was worried they’d be a bit… much,” you admit.

“Pfft, I’m used to dealing with strong personalities,” he scoffs, nudging you pointedly. You roll your eyes but your grin remains, and you scoot closer to him, pressing the side of your body against his. You both lean against the bar, facing the interior of the brewpub, admiring where your hard work has taken you.

“Can you believe this place is real?” you muse, sipping again. Your eyes roam the space above you, when you stop and smile to yourself.

“Yes, I remember you waltzing into this place when it was nothing but concrete and pipes and my brewing equipment, a pretty thing with red lips and determination,” Jack reminisces, ignorant of what you’ve spotted.

Your heart skips a beat. Pretty.

“Oh yeah, cowboy? ‘A pretty thing’?” you purr, turning slightly to face him, your red lips pursed in amusement. Jack looks slightly hesitant, worried he crossed a line, until you point upwards and his eyes follow.

A sparkling sprig of mistletoe hangs between the two of you, above your heads. He meets your eyes again, all hesitation gone. 

“Are you gonna just stare, or are you gonna respect tradition and kiss this ‘pretty thing’?” you whisper, your lips curled flirtatiously.

A smirk spreads across Jack’s face. “I thought you’d never ask, sugar.” And with that, he pulls you into his body and your lips connect.

It’s a slow, sensual kiss when it starts. Jack is gentle, all brushes of the lips, presses and caresses of your body. You lean into him, feeling your nipples press against his dark button up while he cups the back of your head tenderly. A small whimper escapes your lips, and Jack pulls back with concern. 

“Is this still okay?” he murmurs, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs. You don’t answer with words, you just nod and pull him into another kiss, gently biting his plush lower lip. Jack moans gruffly, sliding his hands down the lines of your body, pausing to cup and squeeze your silk-covered ass. You feel wetness start to gather at your entrance, your arousal rocketing by the second as your kisses get more and more impassioned. Jack trails wet kisses down your neck, licking at your pulse point and right behind your ear, ripping another whimper from your chest. 

“Sugar, I need to taste you so badly,” Jack groans into the junction of your neck and shoulder, biting softly. 

“Please, Jack,” you breathe out, and Jack lifts you onto the bar counter, rucking your dress up. You spread your legs, helping to pull the golden silk out of the way. Jack pauses, then another smirk blooms on his lips; he takes his black Stetson off his head and places it onto yours in a quiet act of possession. You pant while you watch Jack pull up a barstool in front of you. Seating himself, he spreads you even wider, his eyes glittering with desire when he sets his eyes on your glistening center. You didn’t wear any panties, and he groans at the realization.

“Fuck, you’re prettier than a picture, honey,” he rumbles, tracing his large warm hands up your inner thighs, triggering more slick to seep out of you. Using his thumb, Jack spreads your wetness around your folds, and you inhale sharply, whimpering again. When Jack spies the pearl of your clit, he runs his thumb across it slowly, encouraging it to harden. 

“So fucking pretty,” Jack murmurs to himself, thumbing your clit again and reveling in the twitch of your thighs as he does. He leans down and runs the flat of his tongue across your entire pussy, from bottom to top, swirling around your clit deliciously slowly. Wanton moans snake their way from your throat. You grip Jack’s hair, keeping his face pressed against your most intimate parts. He groans into your folds, devouring you like a man starved, as you whine and whimper and shake for him. He’s observant, noticing when your body twitches and your cries pitch higher, using that information to bring you to the simmering cusp of your orgasm. 

“Come for me, darlin’,” Jack pleads, slicking up two fingers and sliding them inside you, your pussy gripping him tightly. You throw your head back, legs shaking from the intensity, when he reaches a spot deep in you.

With a few more pressured strokes of his fingers and a gentle suck of his mouth on your clit, you shatter around him, cunt clenching and dripping onto his fingers.

“That’s it, such a good girl coming for me when I ask,” Jack coos, his fingers continuing to work you through your orgasm, squelching from your release. Your moans are music to his ears, rapidly hardening his cock. Once you recover a bit, Jack slips his fingers into his mouth right before your eyes, growling quietly at the taste.

“Sweeter than honey,” he grits out, swooping in for a kiss, your own taste lingering on his lips and making you moan yet again. 

“Jack, I need you inside me,” you beg between fevered kisses. Jack pulls away to meet your eyes. 

“I don’t want to fuck you here,” he explains. “Can we go to your place? I want to lay you out, fuck you proper like you deserve.”

“Yes, of course,” you breathe, and he slaps your ass lightly before helping you off of the counter. You giggle, wobbling slightly in the aftermath of your pleasure. Jack helps right you and wraps a steadying arm around your shoulders while the two of you walk the three blocks to your apartment.

As soon as you enter the door, Jack is on you again, grinding his clothed cock into you and kissing you deeply. You walk the two of you backwards to your bedroom, clothing and shoes coming off between lips locking and hands groping, exploring. Both naked, you climb onto your bed, Jack following. Your legs fall open, and Jack can’t help himself from lunging forward to lick at your drenched pussy at the first sight of your slick lips parting. A whine hitches from your lungs, and Jack pulls back, shifting up to kiss you deeply again. Tongues tangle, lips are bitten, breathless moans exchanged. He pulls back again as you chase his lips, but he stops you.

“Hold your horses, sweetheart. Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, eyes shining with both hope and concern. “I don’t want you to move faster than you’re ready for.”

Your heart clenches at the display of care and consent. A smile lights your face as you respond, “Yes. I’ve been wanting this for ages… I was just too scared to be wrong about you feeling the same way for me and ruining an amazing business partnership. I’ve been dreaming of you in my bed for months, and now that I have you here, I’m not going to let you get away so fast.”

Jack’s eyes light up, and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before getting off the bed. He rummages through his pants briefly until he pulls a gold foil square from his wallet.

“I’ve got a golden ticket here for you, darlin’, but I want you to know that I get tested regularly and that I’m clean,” Jack informs you, a smile warming his face when you giggle at his corny joke. “Is that okay with you?” He climbs back onto the bed, leaning down to kiss your belly.

You nod affirmatively. “So do I, and I’m on the pill.” Sitting up and holding your hand out for the condom, you ask, “May I?”

Jack hands you the packet. “Be my guest, angel.” You lean forward, pressing your lips once again into his, and he groans in surprise as you flip him onto his back in one fluid motion. Climbing up his legs, you push them apart to make room for yourself in between. His impressive cock is achingly hard, viscous droplets of precum bubbling at the tip. You lap them up eagerly, Jack’s head falling onto your pillows with a muffled thump and a whine of pleasure.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” Jack breathes. You suckle at the head, humming in pleasure as the salty-bitter taste floods your senses. Slowly, you begin bobbing up and down his shaft, swirling your tongue across his silky length, making his moans louder and more ragged as you go. After a couple of minutes and an intense suck later, Jack actually whimpers into the thick air of your bedroom, begging you for more. You tear open the foil packet carefully, then suck his cockhead one more time before settling the condom on top and gingerly rolling it down his thick cock. 

You rise to your knees and shuffle upwards, leaning down one more time to kiss him. With your lips locked, Jack presses you back a bit and scooches his body up to sit against the headboard. You settle into his lap and slide yourself down his cock slowly.

The stretch is exquisite. Both of you moan in sync, your hands planted on his tan chest, his hands coming up to grip your hips to keep himself tethered to the moment. You feel as if every empty space in your body is filled; he fits perfectly inside you, like he was meant to be there. 

He feels like coming home.

Once he’s bottomed out inside of you, you both take a moment to breathe and be present. Jack’s eyes are closed, forehead resting against yours, breathing each other’s air. His hands slowly and gently knead your hips while you adjust to his thickness stretching your walls deliciously. Bringing one of your hands to his face, you admire his blissed but tense countenance. It seems like the both of you are barely keeping it together; your pussy throbs against his cock, which twitches in response. Your breathing is heavier. And so is the tension and desire.

You kiss Jack’s lips softly, tracing your thumb down the line of his jaw, and his eyes flutter open, utterly melting when they focus on you. “Baby,” you murmur, “can I ride you now?” A groan claws out of Jack’s mouth, and his lips part as he nods his head affirmatively. 

“Please,” he begs, and fucks up gently into you. Your center clenches in response, and you begin to work yourself on his shaft, rolling your hips as you grind down and back up. The sensation is intense, intimate, and all-consuming.

You clutch at Jack’s well-muscled shoulders, pressing kisses wherever you can reach and nipping his neck. His groans deepen and lengthen, his cock swelling even harder with the feeling of being buried inside you, surrounded by hot velvet. Hands gripping harder, he thrusts back up into you each time you slide down, punching into a spot deep inside you that makes you see stars. Dizzying ecstasy lights up your veins as your moans and whines pitch higher with your arousal. The slick, obscene squelching of your pussy only serves to intensify the experience for the both of you.

“Oh god, sweetheart, you’re so fucking wet and tight for me,” Jack slurs, lost in his reverence of you. “Could never get enough of you.” All you can respond with is a devout chant of his name, moaned and sighed and whimpered. He reaches down and slicks his thumb with your juices, swirling it gently around your clit. You keen sharply.

“Jack,” you moan, “don’t stop, you’re getting me there.” Jack hushes you as he works your pearl firmer.

“C’mon, sugar, I wanna feel you come all over my cock,” he encourages urgently, massaging that spot deep in your pussy while he swirls, swirls, swirls with his thumb. Your whines sharpen, your body beginning to shake.

“Oh fuck, Jack, you’re gonna make me come,” you yelp desperately, your pussy contracting and squeezing his cock tightly. Jack digs his fingers harder into the meat of your hips, trying to stave off his own orgasm, as he continues his ministrations.

He leans forward, sucking and kissing your neck, up to your ear, and licking the spot right behind it gently before murmuring, “Come for me, beautiful.”

You shatter.

Flames lick along every nerve ending, and you shove Jack as deeply into you as possible when your high hits you. Wailing his name, you grip his hair, your cunt gushing and contracting against his length, and that’s enough to push Jack over the edge with you, your name tumbling off his lips in a whimper as he buries himself deep and empties his seed into the condom. 

Waves crashing together, the wheel of fate bringing you two to each other. He is meant for you, and you for him.

You both come back into your bodies, breathing heavily with your faces nuzzled against each other. Jack kisses your lips gently, and you part them to allow a deeper kiss to blossom. Slowly, languidly, your tongues dance, lips press and pull. With the tiniest peck, the two of you separate, and Jack brings his hands to cup your face gently, fingertips stroking your soft skin. His eyes shine like the sea on a sunny day, and you see golden flecks catch the light from your bedside lamp. 

“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs, mesmerized.

You huff a laugh. “Hardly,” you reply, “but I feel like we’re perfect for each other, no?” Jack nods.

“Perfectly suited for each other,” he agrees. “You are my fire, and I am your ocean. You motivate me to push myself and our business further, and keep my passions burning.”

“And you go with the flow, move with the tides, helping me get through rough waters,” you mutter sweetly at him, kissing his strong, aquiline nose. You both sit and absorb each other’s presence, soaking in the new stage of your relationship.

“Where do we go from here?” you whisper to Jack. Your lover, your confidante, your partner in business - and now, in life.

“I don’t quite know what our future holds, sugar,” Jack responds, kissing your forehead, “but where your heart is, there I will be also.”

a/n part 2: Thank you for reading! Below I've included the brief that Erin wrote about Ægir, as well as some details/inspo from the fic. Disclaimer: I am not inherently familiar with Norse mythology or traditions, so apologies if there's anything that is off-base!

-- Beers are inspired by Allagash Brewing's saison and seasonal Ski House Wheat.

-- The winter holiday party decorations are inspired by traditional Norse decorations for Yule.

-- The "wheel of fate" and the last line Jack says are a nod to traditional Norse wedding vows.

-- For Erin's Frith Challenge, Thor was assigned to Pero Tovar, and Tyr was assigned to Ezra.

God: Ægir  Character: Jack Daniels / Agent Whiskey

God of the sea and brewing ale. A Jotun (which translates to “devour” or “consume”, despite being connected to “giant” more often), suggesting that he would devour or consume the ships that would sink into the sea, and his wife, Rán (the death goddess of the sea), would consume the men upon the ships.

“The brother of air and fire”. Father of 9 daughters, who themselves are the waves. Not only represents the sea, but also personifies it. Symbolizes the strength and power of the ocean, so many view him as a great warrior.

Framed as a terrible and devouring Jotun, he’s also a welcoming host. It’s said that Thor and Tyr would visit to have some of Ægir’s ale, and every winter, the gods would come to feast in his hall. This makes him a great match for Rán, the caretaker of those who died at sea, as his hospitality would be extended to them through Rán. This could be seen one of two ways: that either the dead would reside in their hall, or that they would rest there until they were ready to move on.

The sea was seen as a source of great wealth, since sailors would find treasure through industry, trade or plunder. Gold itself was referred to as “Ægir’s Fire”, because he “lights his hall with gold in his hearth”. He’s wealthy, but he shares that wealth as he entertains his guests.

However, he sort of wanted to get out of being the gods’ host. He said he’d do it on the condition that they find a big enough cauldron to account for the amount of ale he’d have to make, since the gods liked to party so much.

To follow Ægir is to be hospitable to those who enter your hold seeking comfort.

Offerings: Ocean/water iconography. Gold. Fire/flames. Ale/alcohol.

Tags for those who may be interested: @mountainsandmayhem @alltheirdamn @sin-djarin @nerdieforpedro @mermaidgirl30 @missredherring @morallyinept @qveerthe0ry @guiltyasdave @almostfoxglove @almostempty @schnarfer @kedsandtubesocks @djarinmuse @agentmarcuspike @gasolinerainbowpuddles @yopossum

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

My lovely @probablyreadinsmut, this was absolutely adorable and I’m sat for part two. 💜

The Santa kink bit gave me a good chuckle. I’d probably develop one in this situation too. 😏

The Labrador carving is so sweet. That would have me melting where I stood given how I am about my fur kids. Loved it!

Excellent job, friend! 👏👏👏

The Mrs Clause.

Jackson Joel Miller X Afab!Reader

Named after the 2002 Tim Allen Christmas movie - The Santa Clause 2.

Summary: You and Joel are Patrol partners who have been dancing around your feelings for each other for the longest time. Tommy has had enough of it and decides to intervene, setting Joel and you up as Santa and Mrs Claus.

Warnings/Tags: No smut in this part, but there will be in part two. One use of the word 'cock'. Just a lot of awkwardness from both parties (they're both dumb for each other okay?). Tooth rotting fluff in parts. Tommy being a meddling matchmaking menace, Maria enabling him like the good wife she is. Language (Swearing). Mention of pet loss. Nicknames. Tension. Implied legal age gap (nothing more 25-35 years ish, Joel would be about 57 in this). Reader has breasts and a vagina. Reader wears a skirt and heels but it's part of your costume. No mention of height, weight, skin colour or specific age. Images used in the banner above are just for aesthetic purposes, you are the main character in this fic. If I missed anything let me know!

Divider credit: @strangergraphics thank you for these adorable Christmas dividers! Merry Christmas to you! ❤️🎄

Banner made by me on canva which is why it's a little janky but we move (pls don't zoom in on it lmao)

Joel

It's Christmas time in Jackson! The town Square was beautifully decorated with twinkling fairy lights and leafy garlands with holly and pinecones weaved into them, wrapped around the street lamps. The freshly cut pine tree stood proudly in the centre of it all with more lights carefully spiralling around it and a bright star on top.

While Joel is making his way to his therapy appointment that day, he notices a crowd gathering around the town notice board, everyone is abuzz with excitement about something and his curiosity piques.

Making his way to the back of the small crowd that's formed in a horseshoe around it, he sees Tommy and Maria, with little TJ on her hip, pinning something to the board.

It's when Tommy finishes up and turns around that Joel locks eyes with him. The slow shit eating grin that spreads across his face sends alarm bells ringing in Joel's head.

As Tommy steps out the way for the residents at the front to take a look at the new announcements, the snickers and stares start. People turning and whispering, looking directly at him. Joel's cheeks heat up and his brow furrows into a deep scowl as he muscles his way through the crowd heading straight for his dumbass baby brother.

"What did you do?*The tone is accusatory right off the bat, Joel ain't messing around.

"Well take a look big brother, we're just tryin' to spread a lil holiday cheer around here and I was jus' thinkin', what grizzly old man could I get to be our Santa this year? And then it hit me"

"You didn't."

Joel could punch that grin right off his brother's face right now, as he steps aside and reveals the post pinned to the board. "Oh. I most certainly did."

There in a swirly red and green font, it reads:

🎄 Come and meet Santa Claus! Jacksons 3rd annual Christmas grotto: 12pm - 5pm December 21st. Fun for all ages! 🎄

And then there's a list underneath, containing the names of residents he and Maria have roped into helping.

Santa's Elves. Ellies name amongst them. Tommy must have a deathwish.

The names of the stabled horses next to 'Reindeer'

And then he sees it. His name.

Joel Miller as Santa Claus!

It had to be some kind of joke. Tommy's sick way of getting back at Joel for making him dress up as the easter bunny for Sarah all those years ago.

He rears back in horror, looking at Tommy like he'd just kicked a damn puppy in front of him. "Absolutely fucking not, Tommy! You must be insane to think I'm gonna do this!"

"Oh c'mon it'll be fun! TJ would love to see his Uncle Joel as Santa, wouldn't you, little guy?" Tommy smirks, keeping direct eye contact with Joel as he tickles the baby under his chin.

Maria then chimes in, shifting the giggling little boy in her arms. "Joel I know it's not your idea of fun-"

"Not my idea of fun!? That's a damn understatement if I've ever heard one!"

She holds her free hand up in a placating gesture. "Alright I hear you, perhaps Tommy should have asked first" She glances at Tommy, who's got a faux innocent 'who me?' look on his face now "But, the kids love it and usually we'd ask Richard to do it but he broke his leg a few weeks back out on patrol, so he can't do it this year. We'll make it worth your while, won't we Tommy?" She elbow nudges him in his ribs.

"Oh yeah! I've got a 40 year aged bottle of whiskey with your name on it, unopened. Sound interestin'?"

Tempting. Very tempting. But no, there was no chance he was gonna do all this just for a bottle of whiskey, no matter how good it sounded. "You're gonna have to do better than that, I'm talkin' new gun or knife kinda interestin"

"I knew you'd say that, big brother, which is why..."

Tommy jabs his pointer finger further down the announcement board, showing Joel exactly what else he has to offer to sweeten the deal further.

And there in the same green and red swirly writing. Mrs Claus with your name beside it.

A beat passes and Joel's permanent frown slowly forms into something of a half grin.

The two of you had been patrol partners for months and anyone with eyes could see how hard you were crushing on each other, both of you too chickenshit to make the first move, so here's Tommy and Maria, giving Joel the best early Christmas present he could ask for.

"I'm in."

You

Two days. You had been working tirelessly for two days on your Mrs.Claus costume, trading with the towns sewing circle for any scraps of red velvet you could get your hands on, fashioning the white fluffy edging out of an old blanket. It was far from perfect, it was rushed but there was no way you were going to pass up on this opportunity.

"Alright I'm coming out, no peeking, promise you won't look until I say so?" You call out to Maria, just finishing getting your outfit on in their living room as she waits for you in the kitchen, feeding TJ his lunch at the dining table.

"Cross my heart! Now c'mon show me what you've got, Mrs.Claus!" Maria chuckles and covers her eyes with her hand, giving you the all clear before you step into the kitchen.

It's a two piece outfit, the long sleeve top flaring out at your waist with a slight v-nexk, nothing too risque, the grotto is considered a family event after all. Then there's the skirt, just above knee length, hugging your hips and thighs in all the right places. Paired with a pair of red short strappy heels that you'd managed to borrow from one of the more fashionable Jackson residents, in exchange for some personal supplies for her. For a rush job, you were damn proud of yourself.

"Okay... You can look now!" You exclaim, straightening out an invisible crease on your top.

Maria drops her hand to look, her jaw follows quickly after. "Oh my god! Well hellooo Mrs. Claus!" She wolf whistles playfully. "Santa isn't gonna know what's hit him."

You feel heat creeping up the back of your neck at that particular thought. How Joel would react when he sees you. "Y-yeah? It's not too much is it? I mean I'm not trying to go for sexy, but I'm not not trying if you know what I mean?"

"No it's perfect! Look at Mrs. Claus, TJ doesn't she look beautiful?" Maria attempts to guide the youngest Millers gaze to you but he's too busy chomping down the banana pancakes she'd whipped up for him.

"Ah well... Speaking from experience, the older Miller men are much more attentive. And appreciative." Maria remarks coyly, lips curving into a sly smirk.

The two of you devolve into fits of giggles, not even hearing Tommy arriving home until he enters the kitchen "Ho-ho-holy shit!" Maria says his name in a scolding tone for cursing in front of the baby, he flashes her a guilty grin before continuing "Look at you darlin'! Joel, come take a look at Mrs. Claus!"

Joel. Joel's here with him.

Before you even have a chance to protest, Joel's stepping into the kitchen behind Tommy and right there and then is when you're pretty sure your heart stops.

Jaw slightly slack, brown eyes now near-black as his eyes drag up your body, lingering for a moment too long on your hips and breasts before landing in your face, noting the nervous gnaw of your lip. He clears his throat, forcing himself to act casual, ignoring the twitch of his cock in his jeans. "Y-yeah you... Wow. I mean... Wow.."

Flustered. Joel Miller is flustered. The usually stoic and self controlled aging scavenger is now a bumbling mess, even if he's trying his hardest not to show it.

A knowing look passes between Tommy and Maria, like the irritating old married couple they are, sharing small grins that mirror one another.

"Thanks... I um.. Can't wait to see your costume too!"

Tommy claps Joel on the shoulder with a loud bark of laughter. "Oh I sure am lookin' forward to that too! I think we all are, managed to find a mall Santa outfit a few years back, got the beard and everythin'. Usually it's a little big on Richard but I think Joel here won't have any trouble fillin' it out" He teases, prodding at Joel's soft tummy, earning him a brotherly punch to the arm.

"Do you ever shut the fuck up?" Now it's Joel's turn to be scolded by Maria, giving her the very same guilty smile as Tommy had done previously. The Miller genetics are truly a marvel.

It's the morning of the Christmas Grotto and your nerves are running at an all time high. Putting together the last of your costume, opting for a pair of black tights under your skirt instead of going bare legged what with the fresh snow that had settled in recent days.

Staring at yourself in the bedroom mirror, you had to admit to yourself that you looked hot and with the appraising look you'd received from Joel yesterday fresh in your mind, a big part of you was actually looking forward to today, even if you'd originally been less than thrilled at being put down for the role without being asked. The moment Maria had told you Joel was going to be santa, it had sealed the deal for you. You'd be the best damn Mrs. Claus this town has ever seen.

A little while later, it's go time. You're walking into the mess hall, the tables have been pushed aside to make room for the crowd that will be shuffling in and out. There are townsfolk dotted around dressed as elves and the horses are hitched just outside in a make shift petting zoo with makeshift Reindeer antlers on their heads. That was a cute touch. You're sure they're going to love being fussed over and fed carrots all day long.

At the far end, is the 'Grotto' which is actually just a red back drop hung up on the wall, a chair that's been decorated to look like Santa's throne, a bowl full of homemade candy canes beside it and a Christmas tree with gifts surrounding it. It's nothing special, but at the same time it's perfect No sign of Joel though, yet.

"Well don't you look pretty!" A semi sarcastic voice sounds from your left, Ellie, dressed as an elf, chewing on a candy cane.

You cover your mouth with the back of your hand to stifle the laugh. She looks ridiculous and you can tell she's not happy about being asked to do this.

"Oh my god. Don't tell me Tommy roped you into this too?!"

"Sure did." She grumbles. "But he said Dina would be doing it to so..."

Looks like you're not the only one going along with it because your crush is involved. You give her a knowing smile, glancing around the mess hall. "Is um... Is Joel coming any time soon? People will be lining up in the next twenty minutes or so."

She grins as she takes another bite of candy cane "Oh yeah he's coming alright. Why Tommy thought he was a good fit for jolly old St. Nick, I'll never know! Least he's got the old part down." She trails off as she gets distracted by something over your shoulder, you turn to see Dina walking in, wearing an equally ridiculous elf costume. "Uhhhh gotta run! Good luck today!" Ellie smirks as she darts by you heading straight for her. Subtle.

Soon enough, the line starts to form and Joel is still nowhere to be seen, you're standing beside the throne, shifting from foot to foot, feeling a little anxious that he might not show up now.

And then you hear it.

"Ho Ho Ho! Merry Christmas!" it's not exactly enthusiastic and Santa has a texan twang but there he is walking in, greeting the townsfolk and children. With the classic costume on, a fake white curly beard with his pink plush lips poking out, the hat tilted jauntily atop his head and a sack over his shoulder.

Why the hell are you attracted to this?

Do you have to add 'Santa kink' to the ever extensive list of kinks you have? Oh god, let's not go there right now.

The faces of the kids in line light up though and seeing the way Joel smiles back under the beard, warms your heart. He's a softie deep down.

"There you are, cutting it fine aren't you Santa?" you murmur to him when he sits down, setting the sack next to him. The way he immediately manspreads and looks good doing it even dressed like this, should be criminal.

Then he gives you an assessing stare, just like yesterday, unable to help himself from subtly checking you out. Subtle to anyone else who might be looking, but to you? You felt like time slowed down right then and there, noting the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips. The next five hours were either going to be pure torture or sheer agony. You truly couldn't decide which one.

"Sorry Mrs. Clause. Was doin'a little last minute gift wrappin'" You're about to open your mouth to tell him that maybe he should have a better sense of timekeeping but it's then that Ellie pipes up, cupping her hands either side of her mouth to make her voice louder. "Alright folks, who's ready to meet Santa?"

The next 5 hours were a blur, it was a constant stream of people coming to meet Santa but it was probably the most fun you've had in a long time. Tommy and Maria had set up a few games in the mess hall to make it a real event for the kids of Jackson and he'd procured some disposable cameras to take mementos of the day.

You could have killed that man when he did this though:

"Hey Mr & Mrs Claus! Lemme get a picture of the two of you!"

You'd sighed but you'd take any opportunity to be closer to Joel honestly. You moved closer to the throne, posing beside it with a beaming smile. Apparently that wasn't good enough for Tommy.

"Nooooo get closer c'mon, you're supposed to be a married couple"

"Yeah and also non existent" Joel mutters under his breath so none of the kids hear him, elliciting a giggle from you.

"Hm, what was that Santa?"

"Nothin'!"

You perch on the arm of the throne instead to appease him. "This any better?"

"Nooooo no no! Get closer!"

"How am I s'posed to get any-- oh!"

You squeek as Joel pulls you into his lap, sitting you side ways on one of his thighs.

"This okay Darlin'?" He whispers in a drawl. It's both sweet that he's checking that it's not pushing your boundaries too far but also sexy as hell. You reply with a slow nod

It's your turn to be flustered now, feeling your body temperature rising a little, along with your racing heart. You're having an internal meltdown about being in his lap.

"Earth to Mrs. Claus! Hellooooo!" It's Tommy's voice that snaps you out of it, blinking rapidly as you look up at the camera.

"S-sorry! Yes okay, I'm ready." You cross your legs and lean back into Joel just a tad, feeling his hand slipping around your waist to hold you steady, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth over the velvet there. You wonder if he even knows he's doing it."Take the damn picture Tommy!"

"Alright hold your horses!" Every second in Joel's lap feels like a year. So close, close enough that his intoxicating scent floods your senses, peppermint from the candy canes, coffee and... Sawdust? You think? Would make sense considering his woodworking, you suppose. It's too much, but at the same time it's not enough.

"Alright Mr & Mrs. 3.. 2.. 1.. Say jingle bells!"

You both repeat it, smiling ear to ear as the flash momentarily blinds you.

Before you know it, it's nearly time to call it a day. You were thankful for the small heaters that had been placed nearby, it had started snowing heavily outside now and with the way the mess hall was pretty open, made it chilly. It was bearable though.

Joel had been so sweet with the kids today, it was a side of him you hadn't seen before. A stark contrast to the man you went on patrols with. You knew he was good with kids. Older kids though, like Ellie, but seeing him with the younger kids? Christ. Your ovaries damn near exploded.

Right now he has the last kid on his lap, a little girl with big brown eyes and tight curls. She's possibly the sweetest little thing you've ever seen.

"Alright sweetpea what's your name?"

"Sarah." She answers shyly.

It's then that you notice the way his shoulders tense slightly and the way his eyes get a little glossy. What's that about?

"S-Sarah? Well... Ain't that a pretty name for an equally pretty girl." The momentary hiccup seems to have passed and he's back to being sweet again. "How old are you darlin'?" She screws up her little face as she looks at her fingers trying to figure out how many to hold up before she holds up four of them, looking at who you assume is her mother for confirmation, she just chuckles and nods.

"Four? Well ain't that nice. Now tell me sweetpea, what do you want for Christmas?" So gentle, he's so gentle with the little kids, you really didn't know that there was this side of him hiding in there.

"A dinosaur!" She's come out of her shell a little now, excitedly mimicking a dinosaurs roar, to which Joel roars back and chuckles, this rich deep sound. So fucking cute.

"A dinosaur? Well little missy I'm not sure 'bout gettin' you a real one, I'm sure your momma wouldn't wanna clean up after one buuuuuut--" he reaches down into the nearly empty sack of presents and pulls out a small plushie T-Rex. "Here. Darlin' Merry Christmas."

She squeels with happiness and throws her little arms around his neck, catching him off guard for a moment. You can see the surprise in his wide eyes, but a genuine warm smile graces his lips. "Thank you Santa!" She pulls back, gently taking the plushie from him, holding it up proudly for her mom to see.

"Well you're welcome, sweetpea. G'on now, go show your momma and have a Merry Christmas... Sarah." The way he says her name, almost wistful, he watches her clamber off his lap, running to her mom to show her the gift she got, there's this longing look that you don't recognise in him.

"Joel?" You ask, gently placing your hand on his shoulder.

His head snaps in your direction, immediately changing his demeanor to a happier one, whether it's forced or not, you don't know. "God, sorry Darlin'! I was miles away."

"You okay?"

"Hm? Oh yeah, course I am! Just... Been a long day is all. You okay? It's getting cold in here."

You smile at the way he's concerned about you, shaking your head softly. "I'm fine, not really feeling it"

"Now why don't I believe that?" He does a little smirk under the beard as his eyes rake over you quickly, it making your heart do a little flip. "Here." Before you can protest, he's taking off his red jacket, handing it to you as he's left in a fitting white tshirt underneath, suspenders holding up the pants. The little roundness of his tummy is something else. You were never a fan of overly muscular guys, you'd seen the magazines from before. Jacked up men with washboard abs just wasn't your thing. This though? The dad bod he was rocking was absolutely your thing.

"T-thank you." the waiver in your voice does nothing to hide how much he's effected you. It's not fair. You put the jacket on around your shoulders and it feels as though you've been enveloped by his scent. It's dizzying and addictive.

By 6pm, all the helpers had the mess hall cleared and back to how it was before, the tables back in place and the shutters down to stave off the snow storm that was picking up outside.

You'd stayed behind to help Maria dismantle the 'Grotto' while TJ slept in his stroller, Joel was still here, Santa hat and beard now gone, much to your slight disappointment. He was busy talking to Tommy, they seemed to be sharing a moment. Tommy's hand is on his shoulder, gently squeezing it with a sympathetic look on his face, you can't make out what they're saying but whatever it is seems deep.

Maria notices you looking, smiling to herself before she speaks. "So... You gonna finally make a move or what?"

With wide eyes you turn your attention to her. "Maybe keep your voice down?"

She chuckles lightly "Oh honey they can't hear us from all the way over there. C'mon... What's stopping you? He likes you. You like him. Just go for it."

"Okay but what if things don't work out? Jackson isn't that big y'know? Imagine bumping into your ex every day. Awkward."

"Don't have to imagine. Before Tommy got here I dated one of the guys on patrol and sure it was awkward at first but we're all adults, I moved on and married Tommy and he's moved on too. It's not a big deal. You know what I think though?"

"No but I'm sure you're about to tell me" You huff in amusement through your nose, putting away the last of the props into a box.

"Damn right I am. I think you're afraid and making excuses. Just like he is. You're focusing on the negatives like 'what if it ends badly' instead of 'what if it never ends?' and that is what you should be thinking about. Seriously. You'll regret it if you don't at least try."

"See you back at the house Joel!" Ellie calls out to him as she leaves with Dina. Tommy and Maria had left a short while ago when TJ started getting fussy. So now, under the twinkling lights above you, you're left alone together with Maria's words swimming around in your head.

'What if it never ends?' she'd said it so simply, like you'd get your fairytale ending. Of course she hadn't meant it like that. Not in this world, not in this life. But, if it meant you could have just a fraction of a fairytale ending? Maybe she was right about making the leap.

So as you wring your hands nervously, your feet are moving you towards him of their own accord. He's crouched down rifling through the present sack, just in the exit doorway. You stop just behind him.

"Joel? You got a minute before you leave?"

"Oh! Yeah actually, I um..." He pulls something out of the sack, putting it behind his back as he rises to his feet, knees creaking as he does so. "I wanted to talk to you to... I uh..." His brow is covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He's nervous too. "I... Got you somethin... It's not much but..."

And then he pulls out a small gift wrapped box from behind his back, tied up with a red bow and everything. Your eyes soften when you take it from him, fingertips brushing against his accidentally.

"Joel... You didn't have to get me anything... I... I didn't get you anything. I feel bad now!"

"Pfft. Don't be silly darlin'. I did this cause I wanted to, not because I felt like I had to. C'mon open it." He gives you that lopsided grin that makes him even more handsome somehow, rocking back on his heels absentmindedly.

You oblige, carefully unwrapping the bow, tearing away the paper, all the while you feel his eyes on you watching and waiting. When you lift the lid off the box, you let out a small surprised chuckle. Gently lifting the gift out to admire it.

A small carved and painted chocolate labrador dog. Just like your childhood pet. You remembered telling him about her on one of your patrols, Lana was her name. You'd lost her in the initial days of the outbreak and thought about her often. It had been months since you'd told him about her and he'd remembered. Even going as far as carving her name onto the base. You feel your eyes misting over as you take it in, it's possibly the best gift you've ever received.

"Joel I-- it's... It's beautiful. You... You made this for me?"

His shoulders relax a little as he sees the way your expression shifts, he was worried he'd upset you. It was a risk because all he wanted was to make you happy.

"Yeah I did... That's um... That's actually why I was almost late today. Was putting the finishing touches to it, wanted it to be perfect. Y'know... Like you are."

"L-like I am?" You gaze lifts from the carving in your hand to meet his own. Staring back at you with those soft brown eyes that you just want to get lost in.

As he takes a small step forward, encroaching into your personal space, it feels like the room just became too small. More intimate than it was before. Nothing has changed and everything has changed. "Yes. Like you darlin'. You... You're..." He reaches up, softly brushing his thumb over your cheekbone, making your breath catch in your throat. "You're perfection"

That's when you see it, above the two of you in the doorway. Mistletoe. You'd wondered how you'd missed that. It was like it had just appeared out of thin air, but more than likely it was a part of Tommy's meddling because it definitely wasn't there before.

He follows your gaze upwards, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "Well would ya look at that."

You can't help the small chuckle of disbelief that leaves you. "Yeah would you look at that. You planning on doing anything about it, Miller?"

Now his gaze his dropped back to you, drawing your face in closer to his. His voice dropping to a low whisper. "Don't have to tell me twice, darlin'"

The moment your lips touch his, you feel like you're floating on air. It's reverent and slow, tilting his head with yours as he savours the taste of your lips. His big hand engulfing your cheek, thumb stroking over it with a tenderness that you hadn't initially expected from him.

You blindly set the carving down on the ledge beside you so you can wrap your arms around his neck as his free hand slides downwards to your lower back, holding you against him as the kiss deepens and evolves into something more desperate.

It's all consuming. Everything you could have hoped for. He's everything you hoped for.

There under the mistletoe and twinkling lights. Santa and Mrs Claus. Sharing their first kiss.

Part two coming soon!

Tagging my moots, happy holidays my lovelies:

@drewharrisonwriter @baronessvonglitter @joelmillerisapunk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @bitchwitch1981 @kirsteng42 @morallyinept @cheekychaos28 @itwasntimethatdidit40 @almostempty

Special mention to @lovely-vamp-princess added a part about Joel's tummy in there just for you ;D

If you'd rather not be tagged lmk and a big thank you if you do read 💜

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

This was such a good read! Highly recommend.

My dear @musings-of-a-rose turned out a better plot than G2 gave us. Loved the OFC (Cornelia) and the role she has to play. I love the way the original plot is still there and woven into the fic but altered enough to keep you on the edge of your seat and engaged as a reader. 👏👏👏

This is the ending our good General deserved. 💜

A New Life

After her husband's quick death, Cornelia finds herself back in her childhood home. But when her father passes, her cruel brother Cato becomes Lord of the city. She feels trapped, hopeless, destined for nothing as her brother tortures her day in and out. Until one day, a certain renowned General comes to claim her city in the name of Rome. When her brother hastily offers her up in surrender to the stoic General, Cornelia happily complies. Anything to get away from her brother. But will the General accept her? What fate lies in store for her in the hands of General who has never lost a battle? And will she be able to survive Rome itself?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

My dear @musings-of-a-rose, what a wonderful ending to an amazing fic. Honestly, I liked this ending better than actual ending of the movie. As we have discussed many times, I still maintain us fic writers can turn out a better plot for some of these movies than we got. 😅

Well done friend! Loved it! 👏👏👏

A New Life - Part 3 (Finale)

Pairing: General Marcus Acacius x ofc Cornelia

Word Count: 8700+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Summary: After her husband's quick death, Cornelia finds herself back in her childhood home. But when her father passes, her cruel brother Cato becomes Lord of the city. She feels trapped, hopeless, destined for nothing as her brother tortures her day in and out. Until one day, a certain renowned General comes to claim her city in the name of Rome. When her brother hastily offers her up in surrender to the stoic General, Cornelia happily complies. Anything to get away from her brother. But will the General accept her? What fate lies in store for her in the hands of General who has never lost a battle? And will she be able to survive Rome itself?

Notes: I asked and you voted! One final part instead of 2! Shoutout to @mermaidxatxheart for tolerating my existence in general for this fic.

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

General Marcus Acacius Masterlist

A New Life Masterlist

The horses neigh and stomp at the ground, anxious to enter the city and start their path through its streets to the capital building where the Emperors were waiting for us.

Not us. Him.

The tent opens and Marcus strides out of it, his presence commanding. He’s dressed in a white and gold armor, a ridiculous color for actual battle but damn if it doesn’t leave me breathless. His hair sits in perfect salt and pepper curls, a new scar on his face a red line across his cheek, enhancing his attractiveness. Now I understand why Lucilla dressed me in a white and gold tunic - to match him. To show a team. To show my support of him. 

Marcus is lost in thought as he makes his way to the chariot where he is to ride and lead the procession, I'm somewhere behind him, not so far back that I’ll have to run to keep up with him at the end, but not so close that I take any attention from him. Not that Marcus would care in the slightest, but these Emperors are so damn picky. He doesn’t notice me at first, completely focused on whatever he’s thinking about until he nearly knocks into me. He steps back, an apology forming on his lips that dies there as he takes me in, his eyes roaming up and down my body. 

“You…you’re stunning.”

I can feel my cheeks warm and I glance away from him and back. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

Marcus scoffs. “This old thing? I feel ridiculous in it.”

I step up next to him and speak in his ear. “Well then I’ll have to help you out of it.”

A growl rumbles in his throat. “Let’s skip the celebration. Think they’ll notice?”

I smile. “They might.”

“Damn.” He tips my chin up and presses a soft kiss to my lips that starts to heat up when his chariot driver clears his throat. Marcus breaks the kiss, his eyes lingering on my face a moment longer. 

“Sir. Sir, it’s time.”

His eyes are glued to mine and I can see all the anxiety and worry building there, not just for himself but for me as well. “See you up on the hill.”

“I’m right behind you.”

Damn this city is loud. I thought we had a lot of people but they were nothing compared to this. Packed in tight and yelling their approval, I can barely hear myself think. Despite my rapid heartbeat that increases the closer we make it to the center of the city, I can hear them chant his name. Acacius! Acacius! Acacius! They love him. And I find my first commonality with the people here in the great city of Rome.

We turn down a street and head through these massive pillars and down another path, at the end of which stands a massive white staircase. At the top I see 2 men clad in white robes - they must be the Emperors Geta and Caracalla. My stomach turns immediately and I have a sense of foreboding, but that may just be my nerves. I’ve never met rulers of a nation this size before. Marcus hops off his chariot and walks back to mine, offering me his hand as I disembark.

“Are you ok?” He asks as I step down.

I shrug. “As good as I can be.” 

He escorts me up the stairs, pausing several from the top to drop my arm, a move we had discussed earlier, as the Emperors would want to address him directly. I watch him ascend those last steps alone, praying that everything goes alright.

Also to check out his thighs because damn.

Some words are exchanged between them that are lost to me, the crowd behind me is too loud for me to make it out. Then they place a crown of golden laurels on his head, which sends my mind whirling. He looks like one of the Gods themselves. He addresses the crowd with a raised hand as they all cheer and chant his name. Then he extends his hand down to me, his eyes immediately finding mine and trying to offer some comfort. I gather up my tunic and ascend the last few steps, happily taking Marcus’s hand. He gives it a little squeeze and some of the nerves leave my body. 

“Emperor Caracalla, Emperor Geta. May I present to you my wife, Cornelia.”

Pale makeup cakes both of their faces, coal darkening the skin around their eyes making them look less imposing and more…psychotic? Geta addresses me first, his eyebrows raised as his eyes rake over me and flick between Marcus and myself.

“General Acacius. You found yourself a wife. It’s about time.” He takes a step closer to me. “We all thought he would die without having heirs.”

I nod. “I see, my Lord.”

His head cocks to the side, his eyes still on me as Caracalla steps up beside him. “Your hair is absolutely gorgeous! That red is so vibrant!”

“Thank you, my Lord.” Their eyes are studying me, watching me and for the first time, I realize exactly why Marcus asked Lucilla to tutor me. 

“Come! Let’s celebrate and get to know your new wife!” They turn and head into the room behind them, marching up to a table with a few goblets of wine. Marcus looks at me and gives me a soft smile before offering his arm to escort me inside. A servant offers us both a glass of wine and I take it, copying Marcus. 

“We will have the games in your honor, Acacius.” Geta holds out his cup to toast. 

“That is not necessary. I am merely happy to serve Rome.” Marcus lifts his glass to toast, but Geta withdraws his own, Caracalla looking between them with disappointment. 

“Nonsense. We are celebrating your wins, Acacius.”

“The wins are not mine but yours. I do this for Rome.”

Geta stares at Marcus for several tense moments. “Then you’ll be happy to hear we plan on conquering India and many others next, under your leadership of course.”

Marcus’s shoulders droop ever so slightly. “My Emperors. I was hoping to have a break from war to spend time with my new wife.”

My heart swells, but then Geta interrupts my thoughts. “Surely it won’t take you that long to make babies?”

Caracalla laughs. “It might brother. He is old.” They laugh together, Marcus smirking at an attempt to join in the jest, but I’m seething inside. This old man could kill them in an instant. 

“Whatever time it takes, I’d like to make sure my wife settles in and is comfortable before I go off again.”

Geta studies him a moment. “Nimibia.”

I can feel Marcus tense beside me. “What of Nimibia?”

“Take Nimibia for us. Once you return, we will have the games and then talk of a break for your lovely wife.” Getas eyes find mine for a moment, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips before he looks to Marcus. “That is not a request.”

Marcus takes a deep breath. “As my Emperors command.”

Caracalla claps his hands together. “Excellent! And don’t worry about Cornelia. I’m sure she’ll have fun at court!”

It’s merely a week later when Marcus heads for Port Ostia, his troops sailing this time to Nimibia. We had said several long goodbyes as I held him between my thighs. His last kiss was hard and deep, pouring every ounce of love and worry into it. He pulls back and cradles my face in his hands, speaking so quietly that I can almost not hear him.

“Stick close to Lucilla. You can only trust who she trusts, yes?” I nod. “Say nothing to anyone. There are ears everywhere.”

“I understand.”

He kisses me again. “Please be safe, Cornelia. Court is deceptively dangerous.”

“You’re going off to a literal battle and you’re telling me to be safe?”

There is no smile on his face. “Some battles are fought with swords. Others are fought with words and they can often do more damage.”

He’s right. “I understand. If I miss you, I can simply go stare at your statue.”

Marcus groans, rubbing a hand across his face. “You’re never going to let me live that one down are you?”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

“I did not ask for that.”

“I bet not.” 

“Truly! I came back from a campaign and they demanded it. And now I have to stare at that thing every time I walk down that street. I try to avoid it.” We chuckle together at that and then fall silent for a bit. 

I smooth my hands down the front of his armor. “Listen here, Marcus Acacius. You-” I jab a finger at his armor. “-are not allowed to die. Or get severely wounded. I forbid it. I won’t allow it. Do you understand me?”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he tries to remain serious. “Yes, ma’am.”

We watch each other for a few moments, Marcus brushing a few stray red strands of hair off of my face. One last kiss, a heated one, and then he abruptly spins on his heel and leaves, closing the door behind him. One might find this harsh but I get it. He had to make a quick exit. It’s too hard to leave otherwise. I walk to the window and watch him stride to his waiting horse, taking the reigns from the stable boy as he heads out of the city. 

The house is quiet, except for the street noise from outside. There is a servant wandering around in the kitchen, but I am truly alone in this giant city.

Alone in a city full of people, most of whom I can’t trust. 

It’s been 2 months and I am certain about one thing: I. Hate. Court.

The Emperors demand my appearance at nearly every single party they put on, some of them more mild but most of them are outrageous. They bring in people to fight to the death as they place bets, the blood and body parts splattering across the floor to cheers and geers. The first time this happened, I was not prepared. I practically ran from the room to empty my stomach into the first pot I could find. 

When there weren’t fights to the death, and even when there were, the amount of promiscuity made me extremely uncomfortable. I am not a prude by any means, but I also don’t care to partake in massive orgies, especially when I was not made aware it was that kind of party. Emperor Geta tried to get me to stay, talking to me as I tried to keep my attention solely on him. Eventually, the woman hanging off of him took his full attention and I managed to slip away. Thankfully, no one questioned my absence. 

I tried often to get out of these parties, choosing to spend more time with Lucilla or pretend I was sick. It worked sometimes, either I missed my invitation or I was too ill to answer it. I remembered what Marcus had told me about being careful so when Lucilla told me I would have to stomach at least a few parties to keep up appearances, I did. For Marcus. 

Another month goes by when I receive another invitation. I’m about to say my apologies, as I have no desire to be amongst all of the backstabbing and political plays, but the delivery boy taps the front of the letter, urging me to read it. I open the invitation and my stomach flips, my lips pulling up in a smile as tears drop from my eyes.

Marcus will be home the day after tomorrow, a successful conquer of Nimibia. 

“Let the Emperors know I will be at the welcoming ceremony.” The boy nods and turns, running back to the capital building. 

My mind is whirling with questions and scenarios, mainly wondering if he had been injured. I had only received one letter in his absence, and he told me it would be almost impossible to communicate once he reached a point. Still, it has been hard these last months without him. 

“Leta?” I call out and my servant comes around the corner. 

“Ma’am?”

“General Acacius is coming home. Come, help me figure out what to wear.”

Just like my initial arrival into the city, the crowds are massive and loud and for once I’m glad I’m at the top of these ridiculous stairs. Leta and I had chosen the same outfit I’d worn on that day to match Marcus. Before we head out of the capital building and wait at the top of the stairs, Emperor Geta walks up to me.

“Nervous?” His eyes study me.

I smile coyly, playing my part. “A little.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure he’s fine. And if not…well I’m sure I can find a place for you here.” He takes a sip from a goblet, his eyes never leaving my face.

I swallow the bile rising in the back of my throat. “You are too kind, Emperor.”

He takes a step closer to me, too close in my opinion. He brushes my hair behind my exposed shoulder, his eyes tracing down my neck and across my collarbone. “I am nothing if not generous.”

Before I can say or do anything, a soldier walks in and salutes, his fisted hand tapping the opposite side of his chest. “Emperor Caracalla, Emperor Geta. They are in the city walls.”

Geta’s gaze is still on my face. “Come. Let’s go see if your husband is still…intact.” He offers me his arm and every fiber of my being wants to reject it. But I remember Lucilla’s words of warning. Always accept an arm from the Emperor. I put on that coy smile and take it, my stomach churning both at his touch and anticipation for what I’m about to see. Caracalla comes to my other side and we all walk out, Geta dropping my arm several feet from where they will great Marcus. I wait and try to remember how to breathe. The crowd gets louder and louder, their cries suddenly taking on a shape.

Acacius! Acacius! Acacius!

Relief washes over me as I realize they’re chanting his name, which means he must be on his chariot. I can’t see from my position, but a few moments later, Geta and Caracalla look down the steps and I assume he must be coming up them. I hold my breath, waiting for my first glimpse of my husband since he left nearly 4 months ago. 

Suddenly, he’s there. Dressed in white and gold, the sun shining down on his beautiful greying curls, a new scar across his cheek, but otherwise in perfect health. All limbs and no limping. I let out another sigh of relief, unable to stop a few tears from tracing a path down my cheeks. Marcus salutes the Emperors, pointedly not looking at me. I know he has to pay them their proper respects. It’s all part of the game. Some words are exchanged between them, but I only have eyes for Marcus, how he leans his head down so they can place yet another crown of laurels upon it, the way he stands strong, but trying not to impose. The way I can see how exhausted he is in his eyes, even though others may not see it. 

“Ah yes. Your wife. She is here.” Geta steps to the side, gesturing for me to come. I follow the command, my eyes on Marcus, seeing his face light up as his eyes rake over my body both in concern and something darker.

Marcus offers his outstretched hands to me and I take them, his familiar touch relaxing me even more. 

“My lady,” Marcus leans and plants a kiss to the back of my hand, standing back up to smile at me.

Marcus turns and addresses the crowd once more, his arm high in the air, before turning back and offering his arm to me, following the Emperors back inside the capital building. A servant comes and offers us wine, which we all accept. 

“We will have games in your honor. May your sword always be sharp and ready for Rome.”

Marcus shifts beside me. “Games are not necessary, my Emperors. I do this for Rome.”

Geta lowers his cup, the sip he was about to take abandoned. “Nonsense. We must give you the praise you’ve earned.”

“I am happy with no praise. I am only here to serve Rome.”

Geta studies him for a moment. “Well then you’ll be pleased to know we’ve decided to go after India next.”

Marcus clears his throat and I can feel him tense beside me. “Emperors, I was hoping to have the time off of war to spend with my wife that we had discussed before Nimibia.”

Geta looks at me and smirks. “Oh, I think she’s settled in just fine. Haven’t you, Cornelia?”

I plaster on as convincing a smile as I can. “Everyone here is wonderful. But I’ll admit, I have missed my husband and would love to have time with him, as husband and wife should.” 

“Mmm…” Geta’s eyes slowly move to Marcus. “And what say you, General Acacius? Would you let your wife keep you from doing what you do best?”

“May I speak plainly, my Emperors?” Geta cocks his head slightly but nods. “I was contemplating retirement. I am not getting any younger and my captain is more than capable of taking my place. It would give me time to start a family on the estate I am due.”

Caracalla stomps his foot. “No games, then? I want to see limbs being chopped off! I want to see blood! I want to see-”

“Brother! Enough. But you do give me an interesting thought.” He pauses, and I feel like I want to vomit. “We will have the games. And General Acacius, you are correct. You are due an estate at your retirement, anywhere of your choosing. However, it would be a great loss to Rome to lose someone of such skill.”

Marcus shifts slightly. “My Emperors, as I said before, my captain is perfectly-”

“I am not finished.” Marcus closes his mouth and waits. “As I was saying, your retirement would be a great loss to Rome. So how about this: you will compete in some of the battles in the games to represent us, Rome, as a sort of…farewell. If you win, you get to retire and you have my promise no one will bother you. If you refuse, you will leave for India immediately and you will continue warring in the name of Rome until the day you don’t return.” 

Caracalla claps and whoops, but all I hear is whooshing, the sounds from all around me fading into the background. Marcus? Compete in the games? The ones where people fight animals and each other and Gods know what else to the death?

“May I have a moment?” Marcus asks. Geta waves a hand, taking a sip of his wine and turning to talk to his brother, who is still animatedly waving his arms about. 

Marcus takes my arm and escorts me a few feet away, glancing around to make sure no one is in ear shot as he leans in, his eyes on mine. “I have to take this.”

“No! I have not been to these games but if they’re anything like the parties I was forced to attend, you cannot do it!” 

“Cornelia, I cannot keep going away to war. The moment I get back they will send me off again. And one day I may fall and not get back up, lost to another land.”

I lean up, pretending to kiss his cheek. “We could run away. Tell them no and I’ll sneak on the ships or take Caius. We could run away and start over somewhere else.”

“My love, you know they would hunt us down and find us. This is the Roman Empire. They own almost all the world.”

Tears well in my eyes as he pulls back. “I am afraid, Marcus. What happens if…if…”

He pulls my hands up and kisses them. “If something happens to me, go to Lucilla. Stay with her. She will get you out of the city safely. They won’t chase just you.”

“No, Marcus. You can’t.”

He presses a soft kiss to my lips. “I must.”   

The next day, Marcus and I sit in chairs behind the Emperors, his hand holding mine as they let loose some animals and fighters into the arena. The scene that follows is not a pretty one but I force myself to watch as the men mostly get punctured with horns or teeth, others being stabbed by their fellow fighters once the animals have all died. One man remained, brown hair and anger in his stance, and he was declared winner of that round.

There were several more rounds of this sort of thing. Sometimes the men would have weapons and other times not. The one thing that was consistent was the blood and gore and death. My stomach churned as I watched the blood pool in pockets around the arena, handlers carting away limbs as the crowd cheered. Then the Emperors stood, Geta turning to face Marcus and I as we stood. 

“Tomorrow, you will have your first match. Sleep well.” He smirks before leaving through the door, Caracalla following in his wake, his monkey perched on his shoulder. I start to say something but Marcus squeezes my hand, shaking his head slightly. It’s not safe to talk here. We hardly say a word to each other on the way back to our apartment, both of our minds on tomorrow. I let Leta go home the moment we come in, rounding on Marcus the second she leaves. 

“You cannot go tomorrow!”

Marcus beckons me to him as he walks to a small table to pour us 2 glasses of wine. He hands me one and we each take a sip, Marcus patting the seat next to him. I take it, setting my glass back on the small table. He speaks quietly, as if he’s afraid there’s someone listening. 

“There is more to this than you can see.”

My eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

He leans in closer. “There is a plan to retake Rome.”

“You mean, overthrow the Emperors?”

“Exactly.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

He shifts even closer to me, our bodies touching. “I have 5000 soldiers coming to Port Ostia. Men who are loyal to me as is my captain. They will march into the city and arrest the Emperors for crimes against the people.”

Nerves hit my stomach, both from relief and anxiety. “Then why don’t you move?”

“They won’t be there for another 8 days. We just have to hang on for that time.”

We’re quiet for a moment. “Who takes over?”

“Lucilla and those still loyal to her father have a plan. Rome will serve her people once more.”

Marcus cups my cheek, turning my face to look him in the eyes. “I know I am asking a lot of you, my love. I did not anticipate the Emperors asking me to compete, but I must keep up appearances.”

Tears start to well in my eyes at the thought of tomorrow. “But what if you-” he cuts me off with a kiss, his tongue pressing its way into my mouth before he pulls back, his forehead against mine. 

“Tomorrow is tomorrow. I may be older but I am still a soldier.”

I don’t eat the next morning, Marcus already gone before I wake. Leta dresses me in silence, this time in a black tunic laced with a gold trim, a red scarf to toss over my shoulder. She gives me a small smile. “To match General Acacius,” she says simply, having seen him depart this morning in his armor. 

An hour or so later, I’m sitting in the Emperor’s box, my chair moved to be seated between the Emperors. I clasp my hands together to keep them from fidgeting with my outfit, willing my legs to stop bouncing. A couple of battles go by but I pay them little attention, only noting that the same man with the anger in his eyes seems to have won some more, the crowd now starting to chant his name. Hanno! Hanno! Hanno! Once the arena was cleared and reset, the announcer clears his throat, addressing the crowd.  

“This battle will be different. General Acacius has agreed to compete in the fights in the name of Rome!” The crowd, momentarily bewildered, starts cheering and chanting his name. One set of gates open and several armed soldiers exit, walking to the middle of the arena. Then the gates on the other side open and the crowd goes wild. Acacius! Acacius! Acacius! Marcus struts out into the arena, sword in hand and determination on his face. I hold my breath and I swear my heart stops beating. A few of the soldiers step forward, meeting Marcus halfway. He salutes them, the hand holding his sword pressed to the opposite shoulder as he bows his head slightly, the soldiers copying him. 

And then, he dances. 

Marcus runs at the first soldier, slashing him down instantly with his sword, coming up to meet the next one. He gets tripped and lands on his back but wastes no time in slashing at their ankles, getting back on his feet only a handful of seconds after he fell. Another soldier slices him across the back and I gasp, seeing Marcus yell in pain before turning to slash at the soldier. 2 more rush him and he parries, a fist making contact with his cheek before he can block it. His sword rises and slices through 2 more soldiers within moments, leaving only one left. The soldier knocks him down but Marcus pulls him with him, angling his sword up so the soldier spears himself upon it as Marcus’s back slams into the ground, his chest heaving. 

The crowd goes wild, his name is chanted louder than before, deafening in the echo of the stadium. He rises to his feet, his sword at his side as he looks around, finding me in the Emperor’s box. He puts his fist to his shoulder in salute, bowing to not just the Emperors, but to me. A sigh of relief escapes me as I release the breath I had been holding for what feels like ages. Then a scoff of disappointment reaches my ears. 

“Damn. I wanted to see more blood!” Caracalla whines, his monkey screeching once at the rise of his voice. 

“Don’t worry brother. You may see more of it soon.”

Rage pours through my veins, my chest heaving against my will to not say or do anything. I swallow hard, turning my gaze to Emperor Geta. 

“My lord, may I go and see to my husband?”

His dark eyes bore into mine. “I think they have doctors there that would be better suited to tend his injuries.”

“You are correct of course, but some things require a woman’s touch.”

Geta smirks, the corners of his mouth ticking up in a more menacing way than I think he realizes. “Touche. Go to him.”

“Thank you.” I bow to them both and calmly take my leave, running once I am out of ear shot. I flag down a guard and demand he take me to where they have the fighters, specifically, the General. He escorts me across the arena and down a few tunnels until we come to a giant barred wall with a barred door set into it. He knocks and a man comes to it.

“Is the general here?”

The guard shakes his head. “Healer’s room. Next gate over.” I thank them both and run to the door, my hand raised to knock before I realize it’s not locked. I walk inside and see…no one. No one is here. I walk back outside and look around. Nothing. But then he rounds the corner, a man following next to him, trying to dab at a scratch on his face. He sees me and his entire demeanor shifts. I run to him, throwing my arms around him the moment we collide. He pushes me against the wall, his hands cupping my face, pressing his heated lips to mine, his thigh sliding between my legs. The man clears his throat but if Marcus hears him, he doesn’t acknowledge him. He merely walks me backwards to the healer’s door and kicks it open, the healer complaining and throwing his hands in the air when Marcus slams it behind us with his foot. 

He walks me backwards, our lips still dancing when my back collides with the exam table. He gropes at my tunic, bunching it up to my hips as he grips them, lifting me up on the table. He shifts himself and pushes into me with a grunt, my lips breaking the kiss as I gasp. His fingers are deep and bruising as he holds my hip with one hand, hitching my thighs around him with the other before slamming it down on the table, giving himself more leverage to thrust deeper and harder, the adrenaline from the fight fueling his desires. I bite his lip and he growls, pressing me further into the table with each thrust as I cling to his broad shoulders. My muscles tighten, my blood pulsing between my thighs as I cum, Marcus swallowing my moans with his mouth. He thrusts into me a few more times before he bites my shoulder, grunting and moaning as he spills himself inside of me. We stay like that, attached and breathing heavily for several long moments, his forehead now pressed to my chest. I raise an arm weakly, running my fingers through his hair. Finally he looks up at me, his brown eyes searching mine. 

“Did I hurt you?”

I smile, shaking my head. “You never do.”

He seems to realize where we are now, straightening up and pulling himnself from me with a hiss. I slide my tunic back down and stand up, adjusting my clothes. 

“I am sorry, Cornelia. I lost myself.”

I cock my head. “Sorry for?”

He gestures around. “It is…not exactly the most private place.”

I stand in front of him and grip him by the armor, looking up into his eyes. “You could fuck me in front of the entire Roman army and I’d beg you to do it again.”

His eyes darken, an eyebrow raised. “Oh really? Because I could make that-”

“Excuse me? Sir?” The healer is at the door, cautiously knocking and trying to avert his eyes. “I need to tend to your wounds. If…if I may?”

Marcus and I exchange a smirk. “Yes. I am…sorry. I get carried away by the sight of my wife.”

The healer chuckles, removing his hand from his eyes and looking at me before looking back at Marcus. “Don’t worry, sir. I have the same reaction to my wife. Which is why we have so many children.” 

The next night, we are wakened by a knock at the door. Marcus sits up and pulls on his tunic, gesturing for me to stay in bed. He comes back in a moment later, his eyes concerned. 

“It’s Lucilla. Did you send home Leta?”

I nod. “Yes. No one should be here until morning. Is everything ok?”

“I don’t know. Get something on an come out.”

I do as he says, quickly pulling over a tunic and a sleeping robe before I head out, seeing Marcus already pouring a glass of wine for Lucilla. She thanks him and takes a nervous sip, looking at me as I walk over. 

“Can I speak freely?” She addresses Marcus, glancing back at me. 

Marcus nods. “She knows. Is everything alright?”

Lucilla takes a shuddering breath and meets his gaze. “It’s him, Marcus.”

“Who?”

“Lucius. My son. He’s back.”

Marcus is silent for several moments, my mind trying to catch up. I do remember her mentioning a son at one point, but I assumed he’d died, as she stopped talking about him after a certain age. 

“Are you sure?”

She nods. “I went to see him. This Hanno? That is him. He hates me, Marcus.” Tears start to fall down her cheeks. Marcus takes her hands in his in an attempt to soother her. 

“I am sure that is not true.”

She nods. “He hates me for sending him away.”

“May I speak?” I ask, unsure of my place in this conversation. Lucilla looks up at me, her cheeks glinting in the candlelight with her tears as she nods.

“I was sent away when I was young as well. I don’t think he hates you. He may be upset with you but not hate. I’m sure you didn’t send him away for no reason.”

She shakes her head. “If he had stayed, they would have killed him.”

“Why?” I ask, still not entirely certain I understand Roman politics. 

“Because he is the only heir to the Roman throne. The grandson of Marcus Aurelius.”

I know that should mean more than it does to me, but I have heard his name whispered and seen busts of him, mostly in Lucilla’s home. I know he was her father and from what I gather, the last decent Emperor of Rome. When the Emperors still cared about the people. 

Marcus address Lucilla. “My troops are only a few days away. Then they will come into Rome to arrest the Emperors as planned.”

“But you will also have to enter the arena again during this time. What happens if you die?”

Marcus’s jaw clenches slightly. “My captain would still carry out my orders.”

Lucilla shakes her head. “I don’t know. This feels like too much time.”

“What if we..speed it up?” I ask. They both look at me questioningly. “It’s just…I’ve had to spend a lot of time with the Emperors over the last few months and…they each hate that they have to split the crown with the other. I can see it in their eyes, their small movements and glances towards each other. There is brotherly love, but there is a lot of hate and jealousy. What if we use that to our advantage?”

“How so?” Lucilla asks.

I take a deep breath, knowing that this will fall heavily on my shoulders. “We pit them against each other. Whisper in their ears rumors that they’d heard about the other one. Maybe about them trying to take the crown for themselves? Anything to drive that wedge. They may just off each other.”

Marcus looks at me. “This sounds very dangerous. And there’s no guarantee that it would be quicker than my troops.”

I take Marcus’s hand. “I’ve had to be around them for months, watching. Observing. Trust me, it’s right under the surface.”

Marcus and Lucilla exchange a look. “It could work, Marcus. She’s not wrong.”

“Yes but she will be in danger. I don’t want that.”

I squeeze his hand and he looks at me. “We’re all in danger the longer we’re here. You don’t think they would try to take you out just to have me? Why do you think you’re in the games? I can do this, Marcus. They would love the attention, especially Geta.” 

Lucilla thinks a moment. “They kill each other and my son takes over as heir. Assuming he would want that title. If not, we have a replacement. He already said he would happily stand aside for Lucius.”

Marcus shakes his head. “I don’t know-”

“It would mean far less bloodshed than a battle between soldiers. You know lives are bound to be lost if the soldiers enter Rome by force. This way, only 2 lives should be gone and Rome will be all the better for it.”

Marcus gets up and paces the room, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. Finally he sighs and comes back over.

“Let’s do this.”

The next day, I put on a tunic that Geta had complimented me on previously. Leta fixes my hair, half up with some braids pinned around my head. Leta leaves and Marcus takes her place, his hands on my shoulders. 

“Are you sure, Cornelia?”

I place a hand over his and squeeze. “This will work. I’m sure.”

An hour later, and I find myself tossing my head back with fake laughter at something Caracalla said. I gently touch Geta’s arm as tears stream down his face from laughter. 

“And his head just popped! Clean off! Rolled right across the floor!” Caracalla continues to laugh, turning to one of the men he has surrounding him, who immediately gives him all of his attention. I pick up my glass of wine, thinking of what to say.

“You’re so kind with that,” I nod in Caracalla’s direction, speaking to Geta as I take a sip.

“Kind? With what?” 

I turn and look at him, leaning a little closer, Geta matching my lean. “You allow your brother to go on and on about violence without worrying. It’s clear it means a lot to him.”

“Yes, I am kind…but…I don’t quite catch your meaning here?”

I look up at him, swallowing down the bile in my throat at his close proximity. “Weren’t the two men in his story brothers? Who both tried to control their family farm?”

He shakes his head. “So?”

“So..well, I just thought…oh nevermind.”

Geta shifts his body to face me, leaning closer. “Tell me. Speak freely.”

I hold my wine glass in front of my mouth, as if I’m telling him a secret. “Well, it’s sort of like you and your brother. Twins, having to share the crown. Him being above you being he was born first-”

“He is not above me!” Geta whispers angrily. 

I avert my eyes. “I am sorry, Emperor Geta. I was merely repeating what he’d said to me.” It’s not entirely a lie. I had heard Caracalla speaking about how he was born first and so he was first ruler. But he didn’t say it to me directly.

Fire burned in Geta’s eyes as they shifted from me to Caracalla. “And what else did my brother say?”

“Oh I shouldn’t-”

Geta grips my forearm tightly. “Tell. Me.”

So I launch into a small story I’d made up, planting more and more seeds of doubt in his mind.

That night at their dinner party, I walk up to Caracalla, speaking to his monkey. We chat about monkeys for a moment, Caracalla glancing over my shoulder every so often.

“I’m sorry, Emperor, is there something I’m keeping you from?”

“Hhmm? Oh no. It’s just..” He leans in closer to me. “Geta has been looking at me oddly all day. Like he’s upset.”

I glance over at Geta, who is currently involved in a conversation with a Senator. “I- well I shouldn’t say.”

Caracall looks at me. “Tell me.”

“Well, earlier I heard someone talking about how you’re first born so you’re the first Emperor.”

He nods. “I was and am.”

“Yes, well, Emperor Geta overheard that and was furious. He started telling everyone he was the main Emperor. Not you.”

“Oh really?” The same rage that fired up in Geta’s eyes now burned in his brothers. “He’s always been jealous of me!”

“Well, you do have a great monkey.”

Caracalla looks at me for a moment and then laughs. “You’re right! I do! Come, let me show you how he can dance!”

2 days and I’m spent. I cannot stroke their egos any more. Unfortunately, Marcus is to compete today, hopefully the last battle he will have to do. This time I wake with him, Marcus putting his head between my thighs before I can even move. When I try to pull him up, he declines, saying he needs to save up the energy. Something about it being good for battle. 

“As long as you come home and fuck me into this bed.”

Marcus groans, kissing one of my boobs. “That is a promise. But now, I must get ready or I will simply stay in bed all day.”

“That sounds better. Let’s do that.”

He chuckles, kissing me deeply before pushing himself up and getting dressed, the same armor as he’d worn a few days previously. He cups my face, kissing me gently before looking into my eyes.

“I love you. Be safe.”

Gods his eyes are all big and brown. “I love you. Please come back to me.”

“Now this is another special fight!” The announcer speaks to the crowd. “The strong General Acacius!” The gate at one end of the arena opens and Marcus struts out of it, sword in hand, as he walks to the middle of the arena as the crowd screams his name.The announcer waits a moment, letting the crowd settle a little. “Against the mighty barbarian, Hanno!” The crowd cheers for him too, a mix of names chanting around the arena.

I feel Lucilla behind me, trying not to make a scene. This is not something we anticipated. Marcus should not be fighting Hanno, I mean, Lucius, to the death! My pulse speeds up, my blood quickly pumping through me. Marcus turns, seeing Lucius angrily strutting towards him. But before he gets even part way, Geta stands and addresses his captain.

“Make sure your bows are fixed on Acacius. If he wins, kill him.”

“What??” I gasp out, staring up at Emperor Geta in complete shock. He smiles, the dark makeup around his eyes making them look even more menacing than usual. He sits down next to me, leaning in, a small hand placed on my thigh. 

“Do not worry, my dear. No one will question me and I will free you from this marriage so you can be with me.”

I can feel the color drain from my face. “Emperor Geta, I am..flattered, but I made an oath-”

“And I’ll help you to break it! My wedding gift to you!”

Shit. I flew too close to the sun on this one and Geta took it as flirting. I want to throw up, but there’s nothing I can do. They collide in front of me, swords slashing, Lucius headbutting Marcus as he stumbles, quickly regaining his footing as Lucius slams into him, Marcus using his weight to flip him on his back. Lucius swipes at Marcu’s feet as he leaps back, coming up to lunge at him again, the two men grappling. Lucius manages to slam his hand into Marcus, who relents, turning to shove Lucius into the ground. They roll, Marcus jumping up and to the side as Lucius swipes his sword, barely missing him. But when he rights himself, I can see that Marcus has no weapon. 

Lucius gestures to the staff on the ground with his sword and Marcus picks it up, both of them lunging back into battle, the staff quickly snapping in two. Marcus manages to knock Lucius’s head, momentarily stunning him enough he could get behind him in a chokehold. Lucius flings his head back and Marcus stumbles, quickly rallying with a sucker punch to Lucius’s stomach. They clash again, Lucius dropping to the ground after a few moments, getting back up with a smile on his face. They talk for a moment, but then Marcus throws his weapons on the ground, dropping to his knees, and raising his hand in surrender. My stomach churns and I nearly vomit. What is he thinking? 

“Acacius has raised his hand! He has surrendered!” The announcer yells. “Let the Gods decide!”

I feel Geta shift beside me, but I grab his arm. “Wait!” 

Geta looks down at my hand and then into my eyes. “My love, the Gods will speak through me and this will all be over soon.”

I squeeze his arm, willing my nerves to just give me a moment to think. “I know, but I think we should have a toast. After all, he is your General.”

Geta studies me for a moment. Then he nods and I feel momentarily relieved. “Good idea.” He holds up a hand to request a pause. “The Gods are…deciding!”

While he is distrtacted, I get up, taking the offered glasses of wine, my palla swiftly passing over Geta’s as I hand it to him, my own glass poised for a toast. 

“To us, my dear. And to the Gods.” Geta proclaims.

“To the Gods,” I say back, lifting my glass. I see Geta take a sip and turn to Caracalla, who was just taking his goblet from the tray, having had to adjust the monkey on his shoulder. He picks it up and nearly presses it to his lips before I grip his wrist. “Dont!”

Caracalla freezes. “What? Why?”

“It’s poisoned!”

And that is all it takes to crumble two Emperors. 

Caracalla stands up, pointing an accusing finger at his brother. “It was you! You tried to poison me!”

Geta’s eyes are wild. I can tell he’d thought about poisoning his brother. “I did not! Do you hear yourself, brother?”

But it’s too late. Caracalla’s eyes are wide and nearly black with rage as he steps closer to Geta. “You were always jealous I was first! First out of the womb, more loved by mother, and HEAD EMPEROR!” 

Geta’s fists ball up. “You are NOT first Emperor!”

Caracalla laughs manically and I take this moment to sneak out from between them. I don’t want to get caught in that. 

“Jealous! You can’t even admit that I have a higher station than you! So much that you try to poison me?”

Geta’s eyes are wild with anger, spit flying from his mouth as he steps up to Caracalla, yelling “I wish I had done it because you deserve to die!”

Caracalla gasps, momentarily frozen before looking down, the red blood seeping quickly through his white tunic, a knife embedded in him. Geta quickly removes it, watching as his brother drops to the ground, his body moving no more after a moment. Geta tries to straighten up, but he clutches at his stomach. 

“He…he was mad! He was…he would have…what…is happening?” Geta drops to the ground, groaning and yelling in pain as he clutches his stomach. A servant tries to help him but he yells in their face, the color draining from him as his breathing becomes labored. And then his gaze goes blank, his head dropping against the ground.  

For a moment, no one moves. But then the captain snaps me out of it as he commands his troops. “Keep your bows on him! Stand your ground!”

I quietly sneak to a soldier and, in a move Marcus had taught me, hit a certain spot on his shoulder that send him tumbling, but not before I grab his bow and notch an arrow, another in my hand.

“Move!” I yell and the crowd parts as I raise my bow and aim it at the bewildered captain.

I summon all the courage I have, not just for me but for protecting Marcus, and command “Tell your men to stand down!”

The captain just looks at me, almost smirking. “And what are you going to do with that, little girl?”

I loose the arrow and it glides into the pole just next to his head. By the time his head snaps back to look at me, I’ve notched the next arrow. 

“I don’t want to kill you. Look around. Your Emperors are dead from greed and jealousy. Drop your weapons and pledge yourself to your new emperor.”

Still bewildered, the captain takes a moment to respond. “And who might that be?”

“The grandson of Marcus Aurelius and heir to the throne, Lucius Varius Aurelius.” I nod towards Lucius in the arena, my bow still aimed at the captain. 

“Lucius…he’s alive?” The captain asks.

“He is.” Lucilla comes up beside me, addressing the captain. “I can confirm it.”

He thinks a moment. “Well then. Stand down, men.” He watches me as I wait, watching all of the archers to make sure they’ve all put down their bows. When I’m sure, I lower mine as well. 

The captain turns towards the arena. “Lucius Varius Aurelius! I pledge myself to you!” He salutes, one fist against his opposite shoulder as he drops to one knee, his soldiers all following suit. Soon the entire arena follows, everyone bowing to Lucius who, bless him, looks completely out of his element. He tentatively raises a hand and everyone cheers, chanting his name as it echoes across the stonework. 

As the crowd continues to chant and cheer their new Emperor, I drop the bow and run down the back steps, moving as fast as I can towards the gladiator entrance. The guards, having seen me before, fling the gates open and I sprint past them, moving quickly into the arena. The crowds are still chanting Lucius’s name, but my eyes are purely for one man. Marcus turns his head, seeing me coming for him and stands, his chest heaving from fighting and tension, but he still jogs towards me. We crash into each other, Marcus picking me up, his lips finding mine like they were meant to. He pushes his tongue into my willing mouth and I taste sweat and blood mixed in with his scent. The crowd notices as they change from Lucius to ooooo! I break the kiss, pressing my forehead to his for a moment before I look into his eyes, so soft and warm. A small clearing of the throat comes to me and we turn our heads, looking at Lucius.

“Hi,” He does a little wave. “Uh what the fuck just happened?”

We laugh, Marcus placing me back down on the ground. He drops back down to his knee, saluting him. “I, General Acacius, do pledge myself to you, Emperor Lucius.”

Lucius’s eyes widen even more. “What if I don’t want this?”

“You have a choice. If you think this is not your fate, there is another who will take your place. But he is happy to step aside for the grandson of Marcus Aurelius.” 

He nods, still looking uncertain. “But what if I don’t know what to do?”

I smile at him, stepping closer. “Your mother, and her trusted people, will guide you.”

He nods again, turning back to Marcus. “Rise. Or whatever.” He extends a hand and helps Marcus to his feet. “I totally would’ve had you.”

“Keep dreaming, Emperor.”

4 years later on an olive farm outside of the capital…

The light streams in through the window on my face, gently waking me to a new day. I blink my eyes open slowly, stretching lazily. I try to sit up, but a large arm wraps around my bare torso and pulls me close to his own bare body, burying his face in my neck.

“Marcus,” my voice laced with sleep. “It’s time to wake. The twins will be up soon.”

Marcus groans, a quiet “No” emanating from his chest. “Let the servants cook them breakfast today.”

I chuckle. “They do love Leta’s breakfast. But you also have that meeting with the other olive farmers today.”

Marcus starts to kiss a spot on my neck, applying more pressure so as to leave a mark. He lets it go, nuzzling the spot with his nose as the skin reddens. He continues to kiss my shoulder, gently pushing me on my back as he slots his massive frame between my legs. He stares down at me, softly pushing a stray hair from my face. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says in awe.

I trace the scar on his cheek with my finger. “Not as beautiful as you.”

He kisses me and then pulls back to nip at my chin. “The farmers can wait. I plan on putting as many babies in you as you’ll let me.”

He pushes into me with a moan, my head pushing back into the bed as he gently slides his hips against mine, taking his time to make sure he gets evey sound, every ounce of pleasure he can from me. 

And when I come downstairs and see him play wrestling with the twins, I think about how lucky I was that my brother tried to use me as a pawn all those years ago. Sure, it was hell enduring my brother, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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