#I love when men are just sooooo fucked up

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 8, A moment of bliss

Masterlist Word count: 3.5 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: Hi everyone. Enjoy Sylus being a switch/bottom for this one. He won't be for every chapter, but he's desperate and you've been waiting for this sooooo... I do want to remind everyone that this is my first time writing a smutty story. I hope it makes sense. <3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of domestic abuse, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut.

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'And then he slept over,' you tell Zayne over the phone and quickly add, 'we just cuddled. It was nice.' He doesn't need to say anything for you to know he disapproves. Just wait, he'll tell you that you shouldn't invite men you don't know over to your apartment. Especially not types like Sylus. 

'That's nice. He deserves something good in his life.' "What?!" 'Are you still there?' You probably stayed silent with your jaw on the floor a little too long. Maybe you shouldn't be too surprised. When you showed Zayne a picture of Sylus he looked physically pained, but not in a fearful way. It was empathetic. 

'Yes, yes, I'm still here, sorry. I expected you to lecture me on inviting strange men into my apartment,' you admit. 

'I would, but I know this man. I think he's a good one,' Zayne admits, 'I'm glad you ran into him. Seems the type for you.' Fair enough. Zayne has listened to you whine about men often enough to be glad you're finally actually like one. There's a knock at your door and a rush of nerves goes through your system. 

'Oh, that must be him,' you tell Zayne, 'I'll call you later, okay? We still need to set a date for our annual trip.' 

'Sure. I'll talk to you later.' His voice sounds amused, almost like he's smiling through the phone. You feel a little flustered. He probably picked up on your tone change when you heard the knocks on the door. 

'Bye.' You put your phone in your pocket and walk towards the door, stopping in front of the hallway mirror to check yourself one last time. Outfit, comfy but cute. Hair, eh, good enough. Makeup, minimal but nice. You pull the door open to reveal Sylus in a barely buttoned black blouse and slacks. Now you feel awfully underdressed in your jeans. Are you sure you agreed on dinner and a movie at his place? This looks like he's taking you to a 3-star dining and rented the whole cinema. 

But, you should have known he was going to be dressed like that. After all, it was the same outfit he wore in his newest video. The one he posted today, earlier than he usually does. In a way, you feel like he did it to tease you. Especially since it wasn't all that erotic. It was just him sitting back against the headboard of his bed with a book in his hand, reading the most utterly horny smutty chapter you've ever heard in your damn life. It nearly made you fall off your chair running to your room to masturbate, but you decided against it. The night's still young after all. 

The chapter stuck with you though. Because it wasn't all that horny because of the actual sex happening, but more because of the love between the characters. To be desired so carnally, to be loved so openly, is a fucking turn on. 

'You look beautiful,' he notes, taking all of your thoughts away with one look. The way his eyes rake over you, you feel like you're a marble statue in a museum. Loved, admired, valued, but most of all, beautiful. A blush spreads on your cheeks. 

'Thank you. You look nice too.' 

'Just nice?' 

'Stunning.' The nerves don't calm down and you're not sure why. You've already had him in your bed, you kissed him, cuddled him, let him... Why are you blushing at the thought of it now? Is it because this is a proper date? It's not even that serious. It's just dinner and a movie at his place. 

'Ready?' He offers you his arm. You nod and place your hand on his forearm. It's awfully proper, but it does feel very nice to be treated so respectfully. 

'I have to say, I was expecting a kiss,' you admit. He grins and leans down to press a soft kiss on your lips. Nothing special, just a gentle greeting from a lover. 

A lover? No, more than that. It feels like home. Like you've been kissing his lips for years, but the spark is still there. Like this is how it's meant to be. Like he is completely and utterly in love with you, and you feel the same. 

Shit, you're in love. 

Sylus leads you into his apartment. The one time you were in there, you didn't really take in his decor. It's very much him. The whole place is made up of black, white, some dark wood tones, yet it still feels warm. It might be because he has taken a page out of your book with all the candles he's lit around the apartment. The dining table is set beautifully. There's red wine on the table already, along with a beautiful bouquet of deep red roses that look almost velvety. There's some music playing that feels slightly suggestive but not enough to comment on. 

'Wow, you really went all you,' you note. You feel his arm slip from your grasp and around your waist to pull you closer against him. He looks down at you with the lightest flicker of a big smile. 

'For you, I'd rearrange the stars if you asked me to. Now go sit down. Food will be ready in a bit.' 

Sylus stands behind the stove while you take a seat at the table. Of course, you take the seat across from the kitchen so you can watch him work. The way he slightly is swaying and softly humming along with the music is truly a vision to behold. A domestic vision. A vision of a future you'd like to live. 

He looks over his shoulder, seeing you leaning on your palm, elbow on the table, staring at him. You feel your cheeks heat up again but no urge to look away. Instead, you smile at him and he smiles back. He picks up the pan and walks over to the table, setting it down in the middle between the two plates.  

'Pasta alla Norma. Say when,' he says as he starts dishing out the food on your plate. You nod your head to him after a bit, having a very generous portion of pasta on your plate. He does the same for himself and grabs the wine to uncork it. All of it goes so smooth, so fluent, like every motion of his is perfected. 

And so is the food. It's not that special of a pasta dish but it's made so damn well. 'Is there anything you can't do,' you joke, 'I might just have to marry you right here and now.' His lips quirk into a smile. 

'Are you sure, sweetie? We barely know each other,' he teases back, 'what if I turn out to be a serial killer?' 

'Then I'd die a happy death.' Even though you are joking, somewhere in the back of your mind you know that it's true. You've never had a connection to anyone before like you have with him. It's new and exciting, but most of all it feels right. 

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The dinner is mostly uneventful, except that Sylus got some sauce on his clothes. He claimed it was because he was admiring you, but you saw him struggle to get the bite on his fork properly. However, this one time you decided not to tease him because you do want to cuddle up to him during the movie. 

At least, that was the plan. Pure innocent cuddling.  

Seems Sylus has different plans. You're sitting leaned against him, knees pulled up onto his lap, his arm around you, but for about ten odd minutes now his free hand has been tracing figured on your thigh. Each passing moment he seems to get a little bit closer to your inner thigh. 

The teasing gets you hot and bothered, which only makes Sylus smirk. You don't have to look up at him to know. He moves his other hand from your shoulder to your waist, his thumb gently rubbing your skin so that your shirt starts riding up until you feel his touch on your skin. 

That's when he shoves his other hand between your thighs, so close to your core, pulling a gasp from your lips. As you smack your hand in front of your mouth and look up, you can already feel Sylus’ laugh rumbling through his chest. You won't stand for that shit. 

With one swift movement, you sit yourself on his lap. Hands gently draped over his shoulders; hips so close to his but not quite close enough. He hooks his hands under your thighs and pulls you right on top of his bulge. The friction makes you gasp, but you try to keep a straight face. 

'We're not watching the movie, are we,' he asks suggestively. You move your hands to the buttons of his shirt and start undoing them slowly, one by one. In response, his hands start roaming over your hips, your thighs, they grace your ass and lower back. You feel yourself start to grind against him ever so slightly. It's almost involuntarily and gets more intense when you see how much Sylus is blushing while trying to keep a straight face. 

'Don't know why you're asking me. You're the one who started it.' Your hands get to the bottom button that you can still see. Instead of undoing it, you splay your hands out over his stomach, exploring all the skin you've freed as you rake your nails over the lean muscles on his stomach. 

'Mmm, I know sweetie, but consent is sexy,' he groans, moving his head towards your shoulder, he presses a kiss under your ear, 'do I have your consent?' 

'You do,' you say breathlessly, moving your hands behind his neck, entangling your fingers in his hair as you grind on him a little harder. He gently bites the spot he just kissed as a reply and grips your hips roughly, guiding you over him while he bucks up at you. His breathing becomes labored as you two dry fuck like a bunch of horny teenagers. 

He moves his head to kiss your lips. It's all tongue and teeth, desperately chasing a high. Somewhere in your mind you had expected Sylus to be cool, calm, collected when it comes to sex, but seeing him this excited because of you gives you confidence the likes of which you have never experienced. 

Suddenly, he drops his head back to your shoulder and bites down as his movements become less rhythmic. He stops moving all together and looks up at you with big eyes, staring up at you like you're made of pure stardust. 

'Did you just-' 

'Yes.' 

'Because-' 

'Because an angel was riding me.' A grin spreads across your face. He came in his pants like a fucking teenager because of you. That's so fucking hot. If he starts praising you any more you might just become a nightmare to deal with. 

'Wanna do it again without clothes?' 

'More than you could ever imagine.' He grabs your ass and stands up with you in his arms. A yelp slips from your lips as you quickly grab his shoulders. There's that smirk again. Shit, this could be the switch Olympics at this point, that way that you keep flipping. 

Being in Sylus’ bedroom is slightly strange. You've seen it from all angels before, even though you've never been there before. He lays you down on his bed and you see yourself looking back on the ceiling. For a second, your mind is completely lost until you realize that there's mirrors on his ceiling. Strangely, that doesn't surprise you in the slightest. 

Then, you see Sylus taking off his shirt. You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him as he undoes the button on his jeans. A devious idea pops into your head and you grab his hand to stop him.  

He watches you intensively as you switch places with him so he is seated at the edge of the bed. His eagerness to touch you has a hold on him but he's trying so hard to let you do whatever. You take his hands and guide them to the hem of your shirt. Then, you slide them up. He quickly catches on and helps you take your shirt off, revealing a beautiful black lace bra. 

'Shit,' he cusses under his breath, tossing your shirt somewhere in the corner. His hands move to your jeans and undo the button and zipper. One peek at your matching undies has him groaning. He helps you step out of your jeans and grabs your hips gently, pulling you towards him. You put your hands on either sides of his face. His eyes are on yours, but they keep flickering down to your lips while his thumbs gently rub your hips. 'All this for me?' 

'All for you.' Your voice comes out sultry, seductive. Nothing you've ever sounded like before. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against him, and kisses you slowly. 

'You look beautiful,' he mumbles against your lips, drunk off your body and the lingering thought of being inside it. He finally peels himself off your body and switches sides with you again. 'Lay down. I'll be right back.' 

'Don't leave me,' you whine as you grab his hand. He stops for a second, physically restraining himself. 

'Condom,' he says and lets go of your hand, disappearing into the bathroom. You decide to sit on your knees in the middle of the bed, eagerly awaiting his return while you soak through your panties. It takes him less than a minute to come back, and when he does his jeans are already off. You eye his bulge with your mouth slightly agape. Sure, you had seen it before, but everything looks smaller on a phone screen. He catches the worry in your eyes as he puts one knee on the bed to be closer to you. 'We don't have to-' 

'Shut up,' you quip, 'I'll be fine. Just go slow.' There's that grin again. With one hand, he reaches behind you and unhooks your bra with ease, with the other he hands you the condom, then he guides you onto your back. You try to take off your bra as you lay, but he grabs your hand and guides it to his hair. For a second, you don't understand but then he dips his head down and starts kissing your chest, slowly making his way over your clothed nipple and kissing it, leaving a wet spot on the lace. With his other hand he pushes the straps off your shoulders.  

Within seconds you are reduces to a whimpering, moaning mess. Your legs spread to make room for him and he gratefully takes his place between them. Sylus finally grabs the bra and removes it, joining it with your shirt and pants on the floor. His hand returns to your breast quickly, his hand gently massaging it while his lips make their way down lower. 

Slowly but surely, he reaches your panties and places lingering kisses just above them. Your hips buck up towards him and you hear the rumble of his rich chuckle. 'Sweetie, you know what you do to me. I fear I might not survive if I spend all my time between your legs.' 

'And I fear I might not survive if you don't fuck me right now,' you groan, giving a firm thug on his hair. You hear him gasp and it goes straight to your pussy. You cuss under your breath as you look down at the smug smile he wears. His fingers hook under your panties and pull them off. They join your other clothing on the floor. 

'You're soaked,' he notes, satisfied. 

'And you're not inside me yet.' Another rumbling laugh as he reaches for his own boxers and pulls them off in a swift motion. Shit, he's big and... are those- 

'They'll feel good. Trust me,' he promises as he watches you look at the two piercings making up his frenum ladder. You reach out to touch it and he lets you. He shivers under your touch as you run your hand over the metal beats on the underside of his dick. 

'One of these days I'm going to make you fuck me raw,' you say, not really realizing what you're saying as you're completely enamored with his dick and piercings. 

'You can't say stuff like that. I'm trying to go slow,' he almost gasps for air with every word and snatches the condom from your hand to quickly roll it on. You watch him lean over you, one of his hands firmly planted next to your head, the other guiding his cock towards your entrance. 

'Fuck slow.' You wrap your legs around him, pulling him towards you. He slips inside easily but goddamn it's a fucking stretch to say the very least. All you can hear is a mixed chorus of groans and gasps. He doesn't move his hips as his eyes study your face, fearing the discomfort he sees might be too much for you. However, you could care less. You feel so incredibly full and ecstatic to be spending the night with him that you might just burst right now. You reach out for him, grabbing his shoulders to pull him down for a kiss. 

'Are you alright,' he asks, holding off the kiss until he has your ok, 'I'm all the way in.' 

'I'm fine. Just kiss me and please move. I need it so fucking bad,' you beg. He does as you say, crashing his lips on yours as he sets a painfully slow tempo to get you used to him. You feel like you're going to snap if he keeps this up. 'Please move faster.' Your words sound more like a moan. 

'Are you sure, sweetie? You seem to be enjoying it just fine.' He looks down at you with pure amusement. Seems he's in a mood. You quickly shove his arm and manage to turn him on his back, not that he puts up much of a fight. 

'I thought you wanted me on top,' you tease back, sheeting yourself on his dick in one motion before he can even respond. Sylus lets out a low groan, throwing his head back and clawing at your hips for something to hold on to. 'Are you going to be a good boy for me and let me ride you?' 

'What happens if I say no.' 

'You'll have to find out.' He nods in response and makes himself comfortable on the pillows. You take that as your go ahead and set an absolutely feral pace. He was right about those piercings. They feel amazing.  

The horniest gasp you've ever heard slips from Sylus’ lips as he turns bright red in the face. His hands move down to your thighs, nails digging into your skin. You'll certainly have bruises tomorrow. 

'Does that feel good,' you ask him as you lean down a little, planting your hands on his chest, nails raking over his pecs. 

'Yes,' he moans, looking absolutely beautifully drunk on you. You feel your high approaching, as does he from what you can tell. He's so close to unraveling and it's beautiful. You wish you could capture this moment, keep this feeling bottled up on your nightstand.  

His hands move back to your hips as he suddenly plants his heels against the mattress and starts trusting up into you, hitting new highs deep inside of you. Highs that no one has ever hit before. Highs that you want him to hit each and every day. He's addicting. Your whole body is tingling as you lean closer towards him, trying to keep up with his pace while you kiss him. He seems too focused to kiss you properly. It's a mess of spit, biting, teeth clanking, and it's so fucking hot. You lick down his neck as you feel your high approaching so fucking fast. 

And there it goes. You hear an animalistic groan next to you, feel it rumble through his chest as his motions become sloppier. Your body topples over the edge and in a moment of absolute bliss, to suppress the absolutely vile sounds you make, you bite down on his shoulder. Hard. Sylus moans at the pain, grabbing your ass to push your body down against him, holding you in place speared on his cock. 

Waves of pleasure shake through your body as Sylus presses sweet kisses on top of your head. His hips move ever so slightly, helping you ride it out. Your eyelids start feeling heavy, your body is aching, your pussy is clenching up. 

'Are you alright?' Sylus voice is different now. It sounds almost worried. You release his shoulder from your bite and prop yourself up on his chest. 

'Peachy,' you reply with a hazy smile, 'wanna take a nap and do it again in a few hours?' 

There goes that rumbling laugh of his again. His hands start rubbing your back as he leans up to peck your lips. It's such an innocent gesture if you don't think about the fact that his dick is still inside you, twitching with every single tiny movement you make. 'As much as I would like that. Let's give it a few more hours and do it again in the morning. Deal?' 

'Only if we take a shower together.' 

'I'll do you one better. I have a tub.' 

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[eddiesghxst]

right off the bat i’m in love with the way you’re describing the feelings of each and every character, ur killing me

“He raises a hand not to do anything but when he starts violently coughing he falls back down in the ground”

KING JOFFERY TEASE EXCEPT WE ARE NOT CELEBRATING. WHO DID THIS ?!🔫

“"Scram!" He yells and your shoulders shook as you get on your feet together as you headed out of the door”

this type of treatment after i just saved ur brother is crazy but FINE

“Geta is soulless" they say, but to you, he is still there and he is still the same just waiting for someone to unleash it, you can see it in his eyes sometimes”

no bc literally i can fix him. and i will. watch.

the first interaction between reader and geta oh my god they are sooooooooo locked in for life, my man geta said WHO THAT IN THE BAAAAAAACKKKKKKK

geta when reader starts spitting out war strategies:

“the bright one” I SQUEALED

i love when men r protective, makes me wanna explode or give them a baby or something idk

PRIVATE SERVANT ?!?!?!?!

WE ARE SOOOOO IN

HIS LADY TOO ?!!!! when’s the wedding. my knight in shining armor i will literally give him 50 babies rn

HELLO ?! THE SMUT IM SHAKING AGATHA R U INSANE

they’re so precious one second and the next they’re going at it like two FERAL DOGS i love them omg

“It looks like he is back again, you knew it, you knew it all along” wailing sobbing hyperventilating and throwing up

sooooo when is geta gonna k!ll caracalla??😗

AYO ?! AGATHA WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS ?! WDYM SHE GOT SHOT WDYM ????! WE WERE ALMOST THERE WE WERE SO CLOSE TO HAPPINESS WHAT

NO BC IF SHE DIES THIS WILL BE HIS SECOND LOVER THATS PASSED I CANT HANDLE THIS

MY SHAYLAAAA

agatha… my precious aggy bby, come here let me kiss u

this was so beautiful and such a ROLLERCOASTER of a read🥹🥹🥹 i enjoyed every single fucking second and UGH I LOVE THEN I NEED TO SEE THEIR MARRIED LIFE PLS. THEYRE SO PRECIOUS, THANK U FOR THIS BEAUTIFUL PIECE OF ART STINKY🥹🫶 I LOVE THEM

.𖥔 ݁ ˖𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓼𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

☾ summary : Rome has never been the same since Emperor's Geta wife died, can you bring back the life he has before?

☾ pairing : Widowed!Emperor Geta x Servant!FEM!reader

☾ wc : 18+ MDNI angst, slow-burn, struggling with grief, fluff, smut, aftercare <3, Geta refers reader as "lass", discrimination, cursing, slight harassment, attempted poisoning, allusions to sexism and misogyny, appearance of General Acacius & Caracalla, hostile, aggression, no use of y/n, historical inaccuracies, reader is intelligent and different among the others

☾ agatha's masterlist ☾

"Leave me be!"

"Sire-"

"I said leave me be!"

The consul's scrambled everywhere as they quickly exited the room, numerous chatter swirled the area, he is upset yet again, it appears so

"Rome will fall, if he can't do his culpability" the patrician speak as he smirks taking a sip of his wine on a chalice

"Says who drowned themselves in leisure, yes, you have the power but you patricians who doesn't even contribute to this society, meaning you have no use at all!" one of the consul's spits venom that provoked the man in front of him as they clashed together in a heated argument that turned into a fight

"Enough of this foolishness!"

All of the men stopped abruptly as they saw who walked by

"The emperor is not in the mood for political talk as of the moment, so, all of you are dismissed!"

"Apologies, General Acacius" the member of the consul's shakes his head, absolutely humiliated by the behavior of the Senate, at a disapproval manner as he nudges his head at the door

"Have I not been clear? I needed to be alone"

"It's me, your liege"

He stifle an angry sigh when he recognized the male's voice as he clears his throat, he twists on his rings as he helped him calm for a bit as he turns around slowly, a twinkle on his eyes, the frown that he has on earlier has curved up into a slight smile

He won again, conquering every country that he commands him to do

"Pardon me for barging in but now it is done, can I see my wife and k-"

"There are more victories still yet to come"

He doesn't even let him finish, Acacius has to swallow his frustrations and sadness as he had to remain respectful in front of his Lord, but deep down, he knew

He always knew that he won't get out of this anytime soon, he is like tied to a chain that couldn't break

Taking over the next land and after the next place, it is very tiresome and he doesn't want to be remembered this way

He has seen so many innocent lives that he has to took just because of an order from the highest ruler of Rome, it's execution if he disoblige it, even he's the most-skilled General who won many battles but that's all erased when you're chosen for this duty

He doesn't even feel like he is doing his job as a General, he feels like a slave

It's an endless cycle, he figured that this is his coping mechanism ever since he rages out of nowhere, he can't even see the Emperor he once knew, he knew his ladywife back in the day when there's no blood spilt in the streets of Rome

He also knew that his own wife didn't want this for him and for Rome

But, can he blame him? He loved her too much and her being the leverage of why he does his responsibility so smoothly, his inspiration

Geta, he once knew didn't care about being powerful, untouchable, or feared, he was already contented on what he has have while being the Emperor and an Empress on his side

But that life strucked him out of it after his wife died on incurable disease

Everybody knew how this story goes, the town, the soldiers, and you

"Me and my dear brother are going to celebrate and set up a new entertainment for your winning" Geta says triumphantly as he missed the melancholic gaze that his General has

"The Colosseum, I presume?" He let out a small sigh as he forced a light smile

"Yes, Acacius, The Colosseum indeed"

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

Whilst the action is happening, the crowds roar in cheer, Caracalla snickering in excitement as he sits besides his brother

Upon watching, Geta eyes never leaves in the field as he takes a huge gulp from his chalice, his face contorts into a unpleasantness as he drops the chalice alerting everyone around him, he holds his stomach in the process

He raises a hand not to do anything but when he starts violently coughing he falls back down in the ground, the shock gasps from the townspeople and so as the other upper social class that accompanied the two twin emperor's and the fighting in the dirt down under also caught attention in this

"Emperor Geta has been poisoned!" The consul's takes the chalice from the ground as he notices the wine has been spiked in some kind of a dangerous element in the drink

"Brother?" Caracalla immediately concerned to his twin and it makes him even more worried when he doesn't received anything from his brother, to that, he signals the gladiator's away and calls it off

"Can you find who it is and bring him to me, I'm sure whoever that was hasn't gone far enough" General Acacius asks one of his troops to search the one who intently wants to kill his Emperor

He is well aware of how cruel his ruler is, no matter how bad he was, it is no right to take someone's life

"He has to rest but I'm not sure he will live long enough" The nurse defeatedly as he releases a shaky breath

"What?!?" Caracalla panicks as he breathes heavily, he doesn't know what to do, only his brother can do bigger decisions for them and he don't know what he'll do if his brother passes away

He catches his brother stirred in a painful movement as he exasperatedly sighs as he gestures the nurse outside of the room to talk privately

Unbeknown to them, you we're there already waiting for the right moment, you have prepared the healing mixture in a bowl and you quickly took a spoonful of it

"Your grace, this will make you feel better"

A voice

A voice from a young woman beside him, he can't look at you closely when he's in a state of being delirious in this horrible feeling that is going on his system

He manages to ate everything that you could give him but you flinched at the sound of the banging doors

"Peasant!" Caracalla shouts as the glasses on every window ringed at the loudest tone that he directly went into you

"Merciful heavens-" The nurse exclaims as he snatches the bowl from your hands as you bowed your head down

You are not allowed to speak or even look at them unless they ask you to

Caracalla inspects on what you did but he saw his brother features eased a little bit when seconds ago he looked like he is in agony but of course, he doesn't want to give you the satisfaction that you obviously helped him but he doesn't stand you considering you're his personal servant before

"Scram!" He yells and your shoulders shook as you get on your feet together as you headed out of the door

The nurse swipes a finger on the bowl as he tasted it

"What is it?"

"It's....honey...sir"

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

You know what you have done was risky and life threatening to be exact since you know how the twin emperor's punished everyone who dares to belittle them or underestimated them

You also knew, you are not someone who is in the higher class of the empire, you are no one

You're just a simple servant who follows commands, cleans, serves, and does all the work for them to keep the palace sleek and comfortable to them

But you've been here for far too long and learned that Geta, he has more humanity left in him than his brother

"Geta is soulless" they say, but to you, he is still there and he is still the same just waiting for someone to unleash it, you can see it in his eyes sometimes, you know all he wanted was to rest for a while but being an Emperor is an enormous weight on his shoulders to be carried because everyone expects him to make Rome great again

You admired him despite the unholiness things he has done, in your heart, you will always going to accept him

But you will always be the one who looks at him from afar because you're just a servant, if things were in a different circumstances you could've talk to him in an easy way but that only happens in dreams

"This is the girl who gave you that whatever substance that she made you eat last night" Caracalla drags you all the way to Geta's room making you drop to your knees as he shoves you harshly to the marbled floor

Geta stares at you, he stood up from his bed as he walks forward to you

"Stand up"

You do as he says while keeping your head down, he encircles you, even you don't see his expressions you feel his gaze analyzing every bit of you

"The nerve of this-"

"Brother, I've had enough"

He huffs as he wrongly thinks that his twin suggesting you to warm his bed

You swallowed nervously at that as you controlled your calmed composure, you tried your best to mask your stunned expression when he denies his brother's words as he escorts him outside of his room

When he appears in front of you, he saids in a calmer tone, "Lift your head up" you do as he says but still avoiding his eyes

He shook his head sideways, "I gave you the permission to look at me no need to ask me again" he demands, his voice was firm this time

That's where you can see so much more of him, upclose and personal, it's the first time you laid your eyes on him like this, god, his eyes

It felt like you're staring at him for too long to other emperor's if you have done that, you could've lose your head so you avert your eyes to somewhere else too scared to get killed off on the spot

You know he doesn't have the same qualities like his brother but still you don't wanna disrespect him

He could sense your discomfort, he still continues to assure you, "I am not going to do anything to you, I just wanted to have a civilized conversation to you"

You lightly nod at that, he chuckles and that eases you out when you heard it, "Is that how it goes for everyone?" he walks towards to the balcony with his hands behind his back as he nudges his chin for you to come and join him

"Sometimes, your highness"

"Terror, the terror that gives it away" he saids in a unlikely manner it almost sounds like he is not proud of it

Since he convinced you twice not to be afraid around him, so, you took the chance to spoke up, "Is it true what you said back there?"

He hums in response, you continued "that.... you're not going to use me for your own pleasure?"

He turns his head at you, amused by the sudden boldness that you could ask directful question like that to an Emperor

"I-I am not like my brother, I don't treat women that way" he stutters as you caught a glimpse of misty glimmer on his eyes but he rapidly blinks away as he focuses his stare to something else

It seemed like you just crossed a line, so, you quickly said

"My sincerest apologies for asking such question-"

"No, forgive me, for my brother, My mother thought us how to be proper in courting women but our father was the coldest man in our childhood, I think he consumed that attitude not so much as I do" he explains as he gave you a small smile that is somehow genuine to you as he re-enters inside of his room drinking a glass of water

You followed suit as you stayed in your place not too close from him

"Now, where did you learn that?" He kept his eyes on you

He brings up the question about the syrup that you gave him last night

"From where I come from that's the natural remedies for stomach indigestion but it is commonly used for food poisoning" you plainly said

He thinks your words carefully, "How come you knew that I was having food poisoning?"

"You're acting like you're about to vomit that's one of the cases of the said sickness, and as for the culprit, I fear, whoever that was, has their mission failed unsuccessfully"

He laughs at the last comment, "Oh, General Acacius will deal with that"

"Do you feel better now, my lord?"

"Yes, I do now, thanks to you" he points his chalice to you as you flash him a quick smile

"Is there anything else that I could do for you before I leave?"

He waves his hand at you as you turn and open the door

"Hang on"

You halt in your tracks and you turned around to look at him, "Yes?"

"How come I don't see you around here before?"

You frown at that question, "I am forbidden to answer that, I'm sorry I must go"

Caracalla, he thinks to himself

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

"Brother!"

"Geta, for heaven's sake, did you not learn how to knock?!?"

"Where did you find her?"

"Oh, the wretched servant girl?"

"Yes, the servant girl"

A bitter laugh erupts from his chest, "Why are your eyes flaring through me like I've done something wrong?"

"I asked you a question, brother, my patience is thinning"

"Why? Do you want me to get rid of her?"

"Listen here, she told me she is banned to speak her part....unless you imperil her life if she does"

"Oh, yes, we had an agreement" he trails off as Geta stomps forward to him as he pushes him off the chest

"She is my servant here, that's why you haven't seen her before because I prevented her to roam around our palace but that girl's head is stubborn as a rock and also she knows too much and it's outlandish for a young woman to behave like that"

"Where is she positioned then?" He ignores the unnecessary remark about you

"I gave her to you instead, I was supposed to end her life but one of the eldest servants of ours, begged for me to spare her life because I was informed that she excels in a lot of work that is done here"

Geta nods slowly as he thought about you for the second time of the day, it makes sense

"Brother, she is odd, unlike the other women that I brought here, sometimes I do think that she casts a spell on men, a woman shouldn't be that open minded or having a brain"

"Is that the very reason why you cast her out?"

"Yes" he answers absentmindedly

Geta shook his head in disbelief on his brother, "Good thing that you let her live because without her? I wouldn't be alive right now"

He leaves his brother's chambers alone in his own thoughts

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

"Is everything settled?"

"Swell"

General Acacius exits the room preparing for another upcoming battle but this time, Geta will come along

You enter inside thought no one is in there, so, you froze standing there

"You can come in, I am about to leave"

You nod at his words as you start wiping with a damp cloth of the artifacts and statues, you didn't mean to look, you accidentally scan over to what he was holding and you saw the papers, it looks like a tatic and war strategy, you took a brief glance over at the weather outside

"I had a feeling it's going to rain hereafter"

Geta removes his eyes on the paper as he follows your gaze, he blinks once or twice, waiting for you to elaborate when you didn't catch on, he spoke

"What exactly you're trying to prattle?"

"I surmise that's your crusade with Sir Acacius?" You point out the paperwork that he's holding as he slowly nod with a perplexed expression trying to grasp your words but he is still evidently confused

Surmise? He'll vouch his own brother on that, he was right, you are no ordinary servant

You are educated, it is given

This makes him piques more interest of getting to know you more

"Yes, it is"

"Is the ground solid?"

"What?"

"The battlefield, is it dirt or solid?"

"Uh.... it's mud"

"I'd say don't wear any armor-"

He snorts, "That's baffling to say-"

"Because it makes you heavy and it's hard to yield your swords"

You watch him as if you can see his mind working on its gears, he raises both of his eyebrows when he finally got what you mean

"How are you certain about this?" He tries to confirm your words

"I just told you, my lordship, I had a feeling" you only shrug your shoulders as you glance at him

"I can't believe I am saying this but I am intrigued"

"One more thing, I suggest you let them come over first before you attack gather everyone at the area and then begin fighting at the pit"

You missed the way his eyes are so fixed on you as you talk, he haven't had this fascinating interaction in years

It's all new to him

"I'll consider your advices, lass"

You curtsey to him before you take your departure as you close the door behind you

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

Good gracious

You we're right

If only you we're there to witness it

It's grotesque in all of sorts that Geta himself let all of his men killed one of his longtime foes in the Empire

They're supposed to fought together, but he kept slipping and embarrassing himself in front of him

He won, if he didn't revise his commitment on this, he would've lose it

Geta, however, delighted to celebrate this achievement, but something else is forming on his chest, he thought he could never felt it again after mourning the loss of his wife

You're not advised to meddle with the celebration but you longed for that someday, so, you saw him waving his hand at the townspeople by the window as you stop sweeping for a minute

You know that day won't come

"Before you go, can you call me a servant?" Geta laugh dies down as he straighten himself on the seat

"Yes, of course, your majesty" General Acacius saids fondly with a smile

"Which servant?"

"The bright one"

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

"You summon for me?" You enter his chambers and tried to poise as if you're not exhausted and already dreaded the set of overloading tasks that you're going to do

"Yes, my dear-"

He stops and his smile falls, "What happened to your hands?"

You tensed when he takes a hold both of your hands, you watch him, you're insane if you think that he cares about you

But, it seems like he truly does, he's been gone for 2 months and didn't like that he comes home to see this

He disregard the news to you, seeing those scratches, redness, splotches on your soft skin, is mood killer to him

He grumbles his tone changed, "Come with me"

You can't hear what they're saying

You're an inch across in the hallway but you can only tell that Geta is sternly talking to the head of the maids in his palace

The poor middle aged maid who is once treated you unkindly before, to your observation, you feel that she is being sermon by Geta, she is petrified

"If you make her work 10x more harder than all of you usually do, I will have your head for the public to see"

"No! Please-"

"Get the fuck away from my sight"

She scurries from him with the eyes of horror in them

Your eyebrows pulled together in bewilderment

"I've lighten your work load" he grins at you and you get even more bamboozled than before, the only thing you overheard from him is his lowly chuckle

"What- excuse me? Sire?"

He left you hanging like that as you frustratedly sigh and you just went into your cramped room and all alone in your unanswered questions

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

"Child, what are you doing here?"

"I-I thought I was assigned to the laundry today?"

"You're not one of us here, not anymore"

"Sorry?"

"You're Emperor Geta's private servant now"

You softly gasp at the revelation as your mouth is hanging agape and you let out a sound of surprise fall from your lips

To that, you headed towards Geta's room, you are more confident to step in anytime since he has never been awful to you

"What in the blazes-"

"There you are"

You felt the mood shift and your questions on your mind had been paused when you caught the broken voice from him

He carefully folded a very old brittle letters, you assume it belongs to his wife, it's delicate and it's very sentimental to him, he uses the back of his hand to wipe the tears on his eyes

"Geta?-"

"Can you lay down on the bed, please?"

You oblige as you get yourself comfortable on his bed, your concern in your eyes has never faltered when you noticed how distress he is

He took off his robe lets it fall down to the floor as he joins you in, you didn't watch him get beside you, you just stare at the ceiling, you felt the mattress dipped

You feel his eyes on you, he is hesitant, he even kept a personal space for you, but he just needs someone to burst this out this heavy feeling that he has

He's been carrying this for ages

And no one is there for him to lean on, until you came

You heard the sniffle as he hiccupped between sobs, "C-Can I hold you?"

"Yes, you may-"

You yelped when he reaches out and grab you and embraces you a bit tightly

That's where he let all of his tears fall as he wept hard on you in the crook of your shoulder

Your heartaches for him, you also realized that he hasn't got anyone to talk to, about this, you know the reason why

It will make him look weak

The moment you wrapped your arms around him, he brings you even more closer to him, you run down your hand on his back from up and down as you let him wallow to you

You comforted him until the both of you drifted away to sleep

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

You woke up in a breezy morning with the most velvety blanket covered you

You haven't slept like this peacefully, you feel so relaxed than the rickety old bedframe that you had in your stables

You snap your eyes wide open when you realized where you are

"Calm down, lass"

You fastly sit up from the bed, he places his chalice aside as he sits down on the edge of the bed, a content smile on his face

"Sire-"

"You are welcome to stay here in my quarters, you can do everything that you wish" he says with the emphasis on the word as he held your hand caressing your knuckles with his thumb

He smiles again when he sees your wounds healing, the special ointment that he uses worked "Here, you should eat" he gives you the silver tray filled with variety of food

Before you protest, "I'll attend a meeting, I'll be back"

He left you with another complete unbelievable expression on your face

"This has got to be a dream"

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

A rapple knock through the door, startled you out of it, disturbing you with the book that you've been reading, but before you could reach the handle, the same soldier that has been stalking you came in with rage and lust on his eyes, you walk backwards as he closes the door

"You know just because Geta made you his servant doesn't mean I have no right to touch you"

"Please, don't do this-"

"You are not his whore, noblewoman" he chuckles with snarkiness, "you're not his wife"

Your heart cracks, your body begins to shake because of fear, you eye the door behind him, you find look everywhere to use as a weapon

You had no other choice to kick him in the weak spot making him fold in pain, he tries to tussle you and threw you in the bed but you slapped him making him angrier than before

When you ran towards the door, he trips you made you fall flat face down on the floor, you scream out for help as the fresh tears roll down to your face as he drags your feet across the room, he puts himself on top of you

He won't budge as he rips your clothes, you thought it will be the end for you

"Hey!" Geta sheathes his sword pointing at the predator who crawls back, he's like a deer caught in the headlights, you picked yourself up as you went behind Geta's back

Geta's piercing gaze is making the man skin goosebumps on its wake, he gulped hard as he begs for his life and for mercy

"How dare you to enter my abode and wickedly abused my lady?!?" He steps more further to him as you hide behind his back

His lady? What?!?

"I shall eat your heart out and feed you to the lions!" He shouts and raises his sword aiming for his neck

"Geta! No!"

You went over to his front, you have no idea the effect that you're giving him, you saw his gaze softens when it lands on you

He calms down when you weep and hug him instead, but still the fire in his eyes lingered over the man who is now getting arrested by General Acacius men

When the two of you are alone, he spoke, "Are you alright-"

"I'm gonna draw a bath for myself-" you whispered

He sighs as he lets you, the worry on his eyes are glued to your back

He shouldn't have left you all alone

You bring your knees close to your chest as you quietly sob

Geta kept pacing back and forth outside of the bathroom, he runs down his palm on his face

The knock terrifies you again, "Lass?" but your nerves eased when you recognize the voice

"May I come in?"

You thought about it for a while, but you could use some company after what just happened

"Yes"

He gets himself inside, the moonlight is making your skin glow, his heart thumps faster as he walks closer, he felt bad

"I'm so sorry-"

"It isn't your fault, your grace" you sniffle as you cut off the eye contact to him, you feel so ashamed of yourself

"You should've let me kill him-"

"Geta, with all due respect, I'm not yours to begin with"

That's where guilt flashes on his eyes and it's clear to his face, he swallowed the lump on his throat as he breathes deeply

"I knew the Empress, I already accepted way before that I have no place in your world, nobody can ever surpass your lady wife" you croak out the last part as you sniffle

You are wrong about that

"Even you're not mine, I don't like evil things tainted my palace"

You look up to him as he cradled your cheek as he runs his thumb, "Come to my chambers after you finish and wear this" he whispers as he places a white satin dress next to you

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

When you finally came back to his chambers, he swiftly turns around to look at you

The air from his lungs knock out as he places his hand on his chest

The contentment on his smile fades slightly when you don't match the one on his face, he can't read you

"What do you need me for?"

"I-I want you to stay here with me"

You scoff, it feels like your wasting your time here, "Geta, you can't just want me and act like this meant nothing!"

"I didn't say that-"

"You shower me with all this affection and lavished me with stuff that I didn't asked for and why do I feel like I'm being the one who filling that void in you?!?"

Oh, you hit the nerve on him

"Slow down with your words, lass"

"Tell me, Geta, what am I here for? what am I to you?"

He sighs and raggedly breathes as he huffs

"Don't push me-"

"Answer me!"

"I can't pursue you because I'm a monster!"

Your heart shatters when you heard his voice cracks, "Geta-"

"You're the only woman that has ever treated me fairly ever since my wife died when in reality anyone could've left me for dead"

You know what exactly he's talking about, the day you saved him from poisoning

"What are you trying to say?"

"I tried to resist but you making it hard for me not to, I-I thought I would never have this, you made me feel alive"

You come closer to him but he kept staying away from him, you plead your eyes to him but he avoids it

"You're too good to me, you don't even know how many times you crossed my mind everytime I'm out there making plans for Rome"

"Geta, you we're only doing what you have to do, I understand-"

"Dearie me, lass, spare me your sympathies, it's unfathomable how much I brought wreckage of Rome, do you know how the town loathes me?!?"

You reach to his face to hold both of his cheek, he gasps within the warmth of your touch

"I could never hate you, there's no fiber in me that despises you, I'm not afraid of you, Geta"

His eyes are glassy and when everywhere as he searches for uncertainty, there's nothing, you are so honest and sure with your words

"Will you spooked out if I do something?"

"No, Geta-"

He slams his lips against yours as you melt with it, both of yours lips together collided as one, he kisses you deeper as he grabs your waist closer to him, you let out a sweet soft moan as he growls when you bit his lips slightly

He grips both of your legs as he carries you smoothly as if you weigh nothing, you wrap your arms around his neck as he kisses you tenderly, your heart melts with his gentleness

He trails his kisses to the nape of your neck as his hands are under the hem of your dress, he breathes you in, he pull down the strap of your dress as you adjust yourself to remove it, your cheeks are flushed as you became shy under his gaze as he drinks you in

His eyes rake all over your body, your curves, your thighs, he takes his robe off quickly as he can, you giggle as he shoots you mischievous grin

"Your face and your body is like been carved by the gods" he breathlessly say as he carefully enters your sopping hole as you winced at the intrusion

The pain is overwhelming but as soon as the pleasure takes over you throw your head back into the cushions

"G-Geta-" you whine as he kisses your jaw, "I know, my love"

My love?, you audibly gasped at that but his moves goes faster and your roll backwards at the sensation forming up in your belly

He pumps in and out of your tight hole as the sinful sounds of body slamming echoed in the room, he kneads your breasts as he goes even more faster

He swallows your moans as he captures your lips again, he can't get enough of you, he wanted to absorb every inch of you

Your jaw falls slack when you grip beneath the sheets, he grips your hips so hard, your nails dig to his back as you scratch it earning a groan from him

You feel completely boneless as he pulls you to him, you shriek at the angle that he could reach inside of you, he opens your legs wider as he helps you to bottom in and out as you sunk down on him, you mewl and writhe as he sucks on your skin finding your sweet spot as you squeal, licking the marks that he made on you with the flat of his tongue

Your legs tremble as your toes curl when you roll your hips to him as he matches your movements, you grind him fast, he praises how he feels so good inside of your velvety walls as you clench around him

You moan loudly when he brings you back to the bed as he start pounding on you, your eyes almost drop to its sockets, when you tried to use your elbows to raise yourself but can't do it anymore as you feel absolutely in the haze, blissfully euphoric in the moment

He brings you over the edge as he stays in the crook of your neck as he continues ruthlessly goes back and forth deliciously coating his member with your juices

You scream as you came undone as you blackout from the orgasm, he kisses every part of your skin leaving no part missed, he breathes out with a lazily smile and when he notices you're not responding, he gently pats your cheek

"Darling?"

That's the first time that he has ever referred you

You hum in response but a pleased smile is now sitting on your lips, your eyes are half way closed, the vision is still blurry and your legs are definitely going to sore first thing in the morning but you don't care, this is fulfilling to you

He sighs in relief, "Are you well?" He says as slowly pulls himself out, you whimper at the emptiness as he devilishly chuckles

"I am, I just need to come back down to earth"

Bells of laughter bursted out from his mouth as you smiled widely at the sound of it

When he calms down, he takes care of you, both of you are still naked under the sheets as he pulls you to his side to wrap his arms around you, he rests your head over his arm as he scooped you closer to him as you sigh in comfort

"Goodnight, my love"

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

Your head is nestled to his neck so perfectly made just for you

You feel otherworldly happier

The sunrise hits your eyes as you squint on it, you look up to him, you saw how handsome he truly is, without his makeup during his killing time in the Colosseum

His ginger hair is so unruly but you loved it so much, you smile to yourself

You can't stop yourself as you place a kiss to his lips making his face scrunch as he finally registers what's happening

He smirks, "Well, morning, lass" This time kisses you properly earning a giggle from you

"Morning, my emperor"

His eyes sparkle when you said that, "My emperor, I like it"

Both of you are mirroring each other, smiling so big that it making your cheeks hurt but you didn't mind it

It looks like he is back again, you knew it, you knew it all along

His face became slowly serious as he takes your hand closer to his chest as he peppered it with kisses

"Lass?"

"Hm?"

"I want you to be my-"

"Your eminence? someone here wants to see you"

He rolls his eyes as your smile never faded as you look at the door behind him

"My sweet-"

"You can tell me it later, Geta" you held his cheek as you made a quick peck to his lips

He pouts but he has to stand up and get dressed as you sit up to watch him

Love

Love is so above in the air, both of your heartbeats the same thing

When he looks decent, he's about to leave but he run towards you to give you a big kiss as you squeal as you shove him in the chest as he laughed

He finally lets you go, he walks backwards as he bite his bottom lip

He turns around opens the door and gave you one last look with a smile that you never ever expected to be directed at you

A smile that you never thought you will get to see it again

He gives himself a tight nod as he finally made his mind, he knows what to do with your relationship to him

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

"Acacius?"

"Yes, your liege?"

"You have my permission, you can visit your family"

His eyes are watery from the statement but Geta felt the happiness that rushes through him

"I sincerely thank you for accepting my request, your highness" he bows

When he gathered his things, Geta spoke again, he needed to say this to him

"Acacius?"

"Yes?"

"I-I know I'm not the exceptional Emperor but I must say that I am forever indebted to your loyalty, not one single General that stays longer than you, Acacius"

He chuckles heartily at that, "If I may be so bold, sire, can I tell you something?"

"Please do"

"Is she your lady?"

Geta blushes at that as he scratches the back of his neck, "Yes, she is"

"That young woman, my lord, your brother Caracalla, he....snatched her father's life away, she's no royalty but her parents scraped up to give her what they can do, to what they feel seems right for her, so, that's why she's so knowledgeable" he saids with a dismayed expression on his face

It felt like a punch to a gut

"I fear, you didn't know about that" Acacius realizes that Geta's mind is all over the place now

"I-I....good god.....she didn't addressed that to me"

"It's because she loves you so much that she protected you from your brother's schemes"

Geta sat down on his throne with a softened features on his eyes as Acacius made his way over to his side

"She chose kindness over hatred despite what your brother has done to her"

"I-"

He saw your figure hiding behind the pillar, his heart swells at the sight of you being so meek all of the sudden, Acacius followed Geta's eyes as he gestures to welcome you

You shyly came out, "I didn't mean any harm-"

"Tell me, lass, how does my Empress sound?"

Acacius purses his lips as he tries to hide his knowing smirk as he held his hands behind his back

Your mouth slowly drops as you tilt your head at him as you dart your eyes back and forth to him and Acacius, Geta wished you knew how breathtaking you look, you radiating everything that he has ever needed in his life, your eyes screams joy, your lips curled into a sweet smile, you see in his eyes that he wholeheartedly wanted this, and you couldn't convey how elevated you are

But before you could answer, you saw someone aiming an arrow at him, your eyes widen

When it strikes, you pushed Geta away catching the arrow yourself in the scene, he gasps as Acacius manages to dodge the second arrow, he hollers at his troops to capture the man, it's the same man who terrorized you, the voices are blurred to him now, he felt his world crumbled when he saw you laying on the marbled floor with a staggering breath, you feel lightheaded, your blood seeps through your white dress, he drop to his knees as he daintly pulls you to him as he cradles your neck

"Oh, god, no" he didn't even realized that he's crying as you felt the tears falling through your cheek

"Geta-" you choke in your own blood, Geta carries you in his arms as he shushes you, he's making sure that he's not hitting your injured area as he curses at himself

"D-Don't beat yourself up, Geta"

"No, save your strength-"

"I'm sorry, Geta, I didn't wished for this to happen-" you sob as you grimace in pain

"What are you even apologizing for?"

"I didn't meant to replace your ladywife"

"Stop, don't talk like that" he pants as he calls for a healer to fix you

"Don't torture yourself, I don't want you to punish yourself-"

"I-I can't lose you!"

"Geta, don't cry-"

"I would rather be with you than be alone ruling Rome, I want you by my side!"

"I have adored you for eons, Geta" you sniffle as you flash him with a pained smile

"Y-You can't- I love you" Geta himself shocked by his own words as he tries

Your waterline starts to sting as you tried to hold back your tears, the faint tear rolls down to your cheek as he wipes it with his thumb

When he sees your eyes fluttering close, he wails, he panicked bad, really in pure anguish

"N-No-N-No, don't stay with me!"

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

He watches as your chest heaves weakily, bloodshot eyes as he can feel them swollen first thing in the morning when he wakes up

He stayed up late, he stayed beside you while you're fast asleep, your face has lost its color of how tender the arrow hit you closer to your chest, Geta has seen so many horrific scenarios all of his life but not like this, every maid and even General Acacius clamoring to save you, it's like the time stopped, it's like the God's cursing at him that he didn't deserve this

Happiness at last until it's not

It's a miracle, the healer says, that somehow it didn't hit a more fatal fracture around your chest, it will heal but surely it will leave a mark on your skin and the process will be longer at how deep the arrow went through you

"What's the point" Geta mutters to himself as he takes a glance at you

"What's the purpose of me living and ruling this empire with Rome around me when I have no one" he punctuates every word with indignant tone as he stood up and puff as he paces across the room

"I have nothing without my lady" he took a look at the sky as if he's talking to the God's

"Me, an bloodthirsty Emperor who is inhumane to his people, I know, what I've done, I will take that regret to my grave, it's unforgivable, the shadow of it will forever follow me, but this?" He points to you and looked back at the sky again said with tears on his eyes, irked but filled with desperation and misery

"I-I was blinded by my sorrow and wrath, I cursed the whole town and blamed the world for the death of my late wife" his voice cracks on every word as he runs a shaky hand over his hair

He looks back at you again and he can't help but breakdown and cry once more

He shakes his head furiously as he gives a pointed look at the sky

"I won't let you take her, you can't take her away from me, not this one, no, I won't allow it, not ever!" He shouts out loud as his voice echoed, he breathes heavily as he squeezes his eyes shut

"Let me have her, please, let me keep her" he pleas as he stare into nowhere

When he hears a faint voice coming from inside, he gets back up to his feet, he did a double take, if he heard it right, when he does he sprinted back to you

He sees you holding out your hand as he happily cries to see you awake, you've slept for so long when it all happened in one day

"M-My darling-"

"Geta, y-you're not blaming yourself, are you?"

"N-No, it doesn't matter anymore"

When you tried to move, you wince as he reminded you, you need to stay still for a while or else you'll bleed again

"Feeling any better?"

"Yes, I am, because you're here"

He sobbed as he kisses your hand as he held it close to his cheek, "Your goodness has never failed to make my heart flutter, my dear, I'm terribly sorry-"

"I love you too"

He stifle a gasp to your words, "You do?" with a hopeful gaze as you smile at him as you move the hair that is closer to his eye

"I do, and I accept your proposal"

He grins widely as he sniffle, you wipe the tears from his eyes, "Don't fret, my love, I'm here"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Of what?"

"That my brother killed your father?"

You blink rapidly suddenly growing nervous, "I-I don't want you and your brother to argue, I know the both of you wanted to rip off with each other's bones but he is still your brother "

He nods softly, "It will take me time to forgive him then"

"That's all I ever wanted for you, Geta"

"Merciful?" He jokingly said as you amuse yourself

"Yes, but don't worry about that now, what matters is we have each other, I help you with every step of the way"

He tucks your hair behind your ear as he hold your cheek, "I am more prouder to stand before you because I know that you got me"

"Always?"

"Always"

He kisses you tenderly and gently, a kiss with a promise, tomorrow will be different, the phases of your life will change because

You're no longer a servant but a....

An Empress to an Emperor

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

☾ an : erm- I think I went overboard lol this was supposed to be a oneshot but it ended up to a longer oneshot fic lmao anyways I just wanted to be detailed and hopefully y'all enjoyed reading this, I got inspired because there's something about a mournful and snappy emperor but has a soft spot for someone that he didn't realized that he loved her! so yeah that's the gist hehe

☾ tags : @eirone-and-cheese @eddiesghxst @yourfavouritecitizen @princesssunderworld (without them pushing me to write this already, this fic wouldn't come to fruition, so, I highly thank you for supporting me! even I'm not that skilled writer, I'm just doing this for fun but still I appreciate your kindness! <3 🥺🫶🏻)

[momomallowart]

Sloppy toppy

[natsmagi]

a key element and constant theme of tsumugis character is neglect and the various ways it manifests and how he was neglected by his family severely as a child in multiple cases such as parents forgetting to feed him being abandoned by his father and brother and then how this series of neglect continues throughout tsumugis life by feeling abandoned when ex-fine disbanded but because tsumugi is so caught up in making sure those he cares about (sora and natsume) get what they want and deserve in their idol careers he fails to realize he is repeating that cycle of neglect. many times we see natsume worry that tsumugi is going to leave him and switch behind, that he is going to abandon the promise they made together as kids like this is a CONSTANT fear of natsumes and i feel like tsumugi is repeating the exact same mistakes his mother made in this regard. constantly overworking herself despite being a good-for-nothing, getting into scams due to her religious and superstitious nature being taken advantage of, being an emotional wreck that crumbles under pressure yet is immensely loved and admired by tsumugi to the point where he considered following in her footsteps by being a teacher (which, again, made natsume think tsumugi was abandoning their promise to each other) even if he also pities her. and i think that, during his childhood in baby tsumugis little brain, he took his mothers displays of emotions as a negative. those feelings were hurting his mom, making her upset, so his solution was to just not feel at all, all the while he makes the exact same mistakes she made, now just while completely disconnected. everything we know about tsumugis mom apart from her being overly emotional is a direct parallel to tsumugi from making and maintaining connections and being naturally loved by others to her appearing "hopeless" with work and being incredibly misfortunate. tsumugis mom neglected him alot as a child due to being overworked, overly emotional, and going through her own kind of hell, yet tsumugi recognizes that she did her best and still expresses love for her when talking about her, even though hes aware of her many bad habits. And, again, tsumugi inadvertently mirrors the exact same mistakes his mom did in trying to make tsumugi live a happy life (constantly trying new businesses and failing, falling for scams out of desperation) when trying to make sora and natsume happy (aka being too busy with work that would benefit the unit to spend time with them). Making the mistake of thinking if he just works hard enough they can be happy, when what will make them happy is his company. a lesson his mother, who not only got abandoned by her husband but also her own SON, never got to learn. But sure yea tsumugis mom was a physically abusive alcoholic who would deliberately harm tsumugi as a child and thats why hes ok with natsume hitting him and lets not even bother tackling the role the men in tsumugis life mightve played in him being numb to physical harm because clearly its the emotionally unstable woman tsumugi has expressed love for whose solely to blame who gives a shit anymore

[wis-art]

Women, so pretty, so shaped, i am so lesbian,,,

[eikichi-supremacy]

crying myself to sleep im so sorry they cut you out atsuko they couldn't handle the cunt you were serving im so sorry but i know i saw you cheer on your son during the dark tourney i saw you hold onto a dying puu i was there i know

[ratatatastic]

scare the hoes more and keep yapping about ekky (& others) getting used to maffhew, it delights me. and say even more about how sasha handles this feral and sweet omega that gets dropped into his orbit. smth smth “feels like i’ve known him 10 years” or whatever vows sasha recited to the press, cameras, and god

apparently we are taking more tumblr user ratatatastic abo yap thoughts for 500 may god hear our screams up wherever he is. big man in the sky you fuckin owe me one.

i think theres so much in particular to say in concerns of 1619 and how quickly they gelled irl but even more so in an abo au

ive always enjoyed when people assign matthew stronger scents that take getting used to if you don't like it already and i know ive read a fic where his scent notes did skew towards stronger cinnamon foods/drinks

anyways on that note it wouldnt surprise me that sasha takes so easy to this spicy little omega.

Like of course he does, he smells like the pastries he used to eat back at home, the pastries he eats now because he's found an established Finnish bakery down here that makes them homemade every morning, the bakery he likes to frequent with the other Finns when he can.

Is it ever a wonder that the cute omega that sent him such a terribly sweet text when the trade news broke out (you know, after the initial excitement worn off because Sasha does chuckle at memory of the brash "Fucking, right!" that pinged on his phone the very first time from an unknown number) smells like... home... No matter all the rumours that have swirled around Matthew, the rumours Sasha has personally experienced himself playing against him...he smells nostalgic. Like Sasha could be at home right now—you know, home home—lounging outside his cottage with tea and pastries on the little table that he's set out. The warm cinnamon that wafts from the typically sterile room they've assigned for pressers smells divine, for lack of a better word. It smells indulgent. Because Sasha can't have those homely pastries all the time, what, with his training regiment.

It's why he doesn't quite believe it that Matthew's the one that's the centre of it all. He's absolutely convinced he's hallucinating because the season is about to start and he's had to cut back on all his favourite sweets as much as it pains him to but for the betterment of the team? He'd do anything. And yet despite the way he rubs at his nose to at least try to clear it, he smells that cinnamon. That cinnamon that's definitely coming from new omega they traded over who's laughing so obnoxiously at the lectern they have set up that if his scent didn't catch your attention, his loud mannerisms certainly did. His voice is practically bouncing off the walls in big loud echoes that should hurt Sasha’s ears. Emphasis on should. As it is he finds his heart melting more than it should instead.

It's been quite a long time since someone's scent has moved him this much. All the people that have, have been in his life for so long he's forgotten what it's like to feel instant scent compatibility. His nostrils are flaring and he's trying his best not to open his mouth to huff in big gulps of it because it's rather impolite to be so obviously scenting the new guy. It could be misconstrued as Sasha taking offence to the new presence in the room.

Some part of his brain is still trying to catch up to the idea that Matthew even smells at all because the first time he met him (down here for some joint offseason ice-time) he didn't particularly smell like much, if at all really. Whether it's because he put on blockers to not intrude on pack territory until he smelled more like them, or he was still on suppressants even in the summer, Sasha wasn't sure and he definitely wasn't going to ask about it.

Known him for 10 years? He feels like he's known him his whole life. But 10's a safe number, 10's a number that won't scare off this new omega, right? 10's a number that conveys "As Captain I want this to work out, I'm opening up my pack for you, I won't shun you, you're welcome here," and not "If I stick my nose in your neck right now to scent you, they're gonna have to forcibly evict me from the new home I've found in you, and it's not gonna be a pretty outcome."

It's also why he's a little nervous when Media Day is over because despite how much it dragged along in years past it practically blitzed by and now Sasha has to—

You know, properly scent the new addition. Give them the purring acceptance of their Pack leader's scent to carry with them. And it's nothing big, it's just some chaste wrist rubbing... something subtle and not too overwhelming for everyone: the pack, and the newcomer alike. It's not like Sasha is going to mouth at Matthew's neck glands. He doesn't think he can even handle that right now but that's a problem for future Sasha—for when Matthew is really part of the pack and not like a goldfish in a plastic bag being dunked into an aquarium to get used to the water temperature. He just has to rub his wrist against his, it's like basic Alpha etiquette. It'll be fine, mostly. He hopes.

And it's as anticlimactic as he thought it'd be: gentle reintroductions and reignited chatter of excitement about the new season that's about to start... maybe just with the new lingering scent of sweet and spice in the background as if someone lit up a candle without Sasha even noticing it. It's a struggle to keep his eyes from closing from how heavy they feel, from how relaxed he feels in the presence of this new omega he knows has pissed him off on several occasions as composed as he was about it.

Matthew presents his wrist in a flourish successfully managing to divert his attention back to what they're supposed to be doing all alone like this in the dressing room like this, "I'm sure you've been dying to do this huh, Cap?"

Sweat starts to break out at the back of his neck. He knows? Sasha doesn't think he's been sending off any signals that could've hinted otherwise but Sasha admits that he's well out of practise, he hasn't had to reign in his scent this much in such a long time, and maybe Matthew picked up his weird fixation—

Matthew waggles his eyebrows for extra effect an offbeat later when the joke doesn't seem to land the way he wanted it to.

Oh, thank Christ, he's just teasing him. It's a joke. He doesn't actually mean it in the way Sasha thought he meant.

"Yes. Yes, I have," Sasha chuckles in relief, shaking his head at Matthew's attempt to lighten the mood.

"10 years, or so I've heard, bud."

"You heard? Uh, listened to the..." he trails off.

"Kinda hard not to when the setup made it sound like you were in the middle of the Earth, my guy. I don't think my ears are ever gonna recover from that."

"It's the first day for everyone," Sasha lightly chastises, not particularly aggrieved at all but wanting to keep up the banter to stall for time, so he can prepare himself. Quite honestly he feels like travelled back in time to the young anxious Alpha he was breaking out into the league for the first time.

"Be gentle, I bruise easily."

"Right, gentle. I'll treat you better than my clothes on the delicate cycle."

"Is that supposed to be a line?" Matthew says in glee, his voice pitching into incredulity.

"Line like fishing?"

"Oh, come on! You know what I'm talking about! You've been in this country long enough to pick up on that!"

"Yes, yes, that."

Matthew shoves at his shoulder playfully. "Just go on and do the thing already."

"Doing the thing."

Matthew snorts but his wrist is limp in Sasha’s hold. And as much as it was a dumb joke he does feel delicate between his fingers like that. So delicate that when he rubs his own wrist against his—to transfer over their pack scent—he feels like he's going to break it if he holds onto it for too long. It's why he drops it as quick as he took it, hands scrambling to his sides in an effort to remain polite but also to get a handle on himself so his pheromones don't go haywire with the new stimulus. It's a bit of a losing battle because he knows his scent just. But he can play it off as the excitement of an Alpha being able to claim another member to his pack, it's a possessive kind of thing.

"Well, see you around! Call it a hunch but I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of each other." And the joke wasn't funny the first time, truly the equivalent of leaning on the office fax machine and going "You come here often?" to your coworkers who just want to get their work done—and just as sleazy too with the greasy grin Matthew has permanently stuck to his face but Sasha still laughs like he did the first time he heard it.

And it's only now that Matthew is gone that Sasha realises the room smells strongly of cinnamon, so potent that anyone with a working nose would be able to tell that. Like Matthew was doing his best to ease Sasha’s obvious nerves when Sasha should've been the one to calm the omega who's been uprooted from their own pack and thrown into a completely new environment, himself.

"Jesus, it reeks in here. Smells like cinnamon," Aaron wrinkles his nose, wandering back in after his own media duties were done, finding Sasha all alone in the locker rooms.

"It does?" Like he can't tell the room smells like the equivalent of someone knocking over a Yankee Candle into an open fire.

"Yeah, like an awful lot." Aaron scrunching up his nose, trying to fight off an incoming sneeze. "It's strong," he says without thinking, swallows before his eyes shift over to Sasha and then to the floor, "Not bad just... strong..." The I can get used to it is left unspoken between them.

"I like it," Sasha admits because if Aaron is confessing to things without thinking then he might as well too. They've known each other long enough.

"I can tell." Aaron snorts, "You reek too."

Sasha lets out a questioning little noise, tilts his head to the side as he silently urges Aaron to continue.

"You have no idea what cinnamon and cardamom smell like together, do you? I feel like I walked into a bakery when I should be at the gym right now."

"Is that bad?"

"For you? No, of course not," Aaron's eyes soften, and while his scent wasn't anywhere close to abrasive, it does lighten up just a tad bit in the presence of his pack Alpha. "For me? I'd rather dunk my head in a bucket of coffee beans." A bit of an exaggeration on Aaron's part but the wry grin he has on really adds to the fact he's just joking—just a little, maybe there's some truth hidden in there. He knows how Aaron is, the way he tries to downplay anytime he bristles about something. Peace and vibes, and all that.

So Sasha can joke as well, "Forsy's stall is over there," and motions his head towards it across the room.

"Oh, hilarious."

"If I was funny I would say jock."

"You know, what? I think I will hit the gym today, thanks for reminding me."

"Mmm, anytime." And when Aaron's half out the door he adds, "Ask the staff where they put the jerseys we used today!"

"I'm going! To the gym!" he echoes back, not bothering to turn around as he shuffles down the hall in a hurry, and decidedly not going in the direction of the gym. It's not surprising when he hears chatter pick up and shoes scuffing briskly into the direction of the laundry rooms.

[inkykeiji]

my boyfriend’s mom will be out all night on a date so i get to play housewife tonight n make the boys dinner :)

[amomentpassed]

i just had the most painful conversation with some narcissistic fuck in my hostel i am ENRAGED

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

I love to get 2 on

Tags: Satoru x fem!Reader, Toji x fem!Reader, mmf, polyamory, cursing, smut (fighting over who gets to breed you), dumbification, finger sucking, breeding kink duh, implied size kink, daddy kink, mdni.

An: this is so self indulgent of me to write but idc nothing else is intriguing me besides this thought. this will likely end up being a small series because i have sooooo many ideas about these two nasty fucks.

Having both Toji and Satoru as boyfriends was not for the weak willed because these two men are constantly at each other’s throats when it comes to your attention.

“Don’t look at him. Look at me. ‘m the one givin this pussy what she wants.” Toji’s husky voice growls into your ear, breath fanning across your skin before he grunts.

His hips are slapping against yours — fucking you deep into the mattress while his heavy cock slides in and out of your sloppy hole. Pornographic squelches are coming straight from your pussy, making you cringe, but both of your boyfriends seem to be going feral from it.

Satoru’s pale blue eyes roll as Toji once again steals the show away from him. His palm cups your chin, and he drags your focus right back to his swollen cock. His tip is a pretty shade of pink, and it’s sweltering — leaking beads of precum over and over while he leisurely drags his hand up and down his length .

“Don’t listen to him. Look at Toru.” He coos with a grin, loving how fucked out your face gets when Toji absolutely ruins you. “He’s just a placeholder, riiight~? You’re still going to let me breed you after.”

You’re so pliant for them, nodding your head like a dumb slut. Nothing else in the world is better than when they both take turns breeding you again and again.

“This placeholders ‘bout to make her cum again.” Toji taunts, gripping your hips with bruising strength as he rolls his hips just the way you like. His tip presses kisses of precum so deep inside you. You can barely breathe much less think.

“You better not, princess. Suppose to wait for Toru, remember?” Satoru’s voice grows stern, and his eyes bore into yours in an almost eerie fashion.

“C’mon, doll. Cum for daddy. I can feel you tightening around me. I know ya want to.”

It’s all so much. Watching Satoru fuck into his wrist while Toji’s tip is practically massaging your g-spot. You give Satoru a sorrowful glance before letting out a pleasured cry. Your hands fist at the sheets, and your toes literally curl as juices gush out around the base of Toji’s cock.

“Yeeaah, not bad for a placeholder, right?” Toji’s lips quirk up into a smirk before he presses a kiss to your lips, drinking down your moans just to rub it in Satoru’s face even more.

All it takes is one look from Satoru, and Toji slides out of you with a grin. “I got ‘er warmed up for ya.” Toji laughs as he and Satoru switch positions. You lazily part your thighs for Satoru, still trying to catch your breath from the soul shattering orgasm Toji just gave you.

“Nuh uh. You wanted to be a slut on his cock. ‘m gonna treat you like one.” His hands grab your waist, and he rolls you onto your stomach forcefully.

From the outside, everyone would probably guess that brooding Toji’s the mean one in these scenarios, but they’d be dead wrong.

Satoru, after a life of being spoilt, gets so rude and aggressive when he doesn’t get what he wants. Toji purposefully pushes him to that point — partly so he can watch you get railed deeply into the mattress until tears fall from your eyes.

The heel of Satoru’s palm connects with your back, and he forces your face and shoulders down into the sheets while his other hands guides his cock to your weeping entrance.

You grip at the sheets immediately, letting out a hiss as he buries himself all the way to the hilt in one fluid thrust.

“Fuck.” Satoru groans as if he’s genuinely mad at how wet you are — frustrated that Toji could get you this messy.

Toji brushes your hair away from your face, and his large palm rubs at your cheek gently — a tender reminder to keep your eyes on him while he jerks his cock right in front of your face.

“Just couldn’t wait, could you? I was- ngh.. gonna be nice to you tonight… since hah~ I’m trying to put a baby in you.” Satoru’s hips are forcefully slamming into your backside. He’s not moving fast, but his pace is punishing. “Toji’s already got a kid. It’s my turn.”

Your juices are seeping around his cock, forming a thin white line right around the base that makes Satoru’s cock twitch in delight. His hand slaps at the fat of your ass smack! before he’s pulling on your hips, making you meet him halfway just so he can make his thrusts count.

“Takin’ him so well. Keep it up for, daddy, yeah?” Toji murmurs before pressing a loving kiss to your temple.

Your mouth opens for Toji, and he gives you an affectionate chuckle before placing his thumb against your tongue to soothe that oral fixation you have. He knows that if he fucks your face, Satoru will have even more of a hissy fit and probably fuck you out of commission for a few days.

“Focus on him, doll. Looks like he’s making ya feel real good.” You nod, sucking on Toji’s thumb in between breathless whines and moans.

Satoru’s balls are so heavy, brutally slapping against your puffy clit with each thrust. Thwak! Thwak! Thwak! He’s been saving up for you, adamant that he needs to breed you. He’s the upcoming Gojo clan head after all; it’s natural that those old hags want a baby with his blessed genes.

All it takes is feeling your spongy walls clench around him like a vice, and Satoru’s jerking you up by your arms, forcing your back in to an arch to where the imprint of his dick bulges through your belly.

Both of you are so noisy when you cum, Toji thinks. He watches in slight awe as Satoru pumps you full with his sticky seed. He can tell by the look on Satoru’s face that you’re milking him for all he’s worth too, and it’s so fucking hot.

Toji pushes you back down into the bed. Both men aren’t good with words. They’re good at doing. He arches his hips out before rope after rope of white hot cum spurt from his tip all over your face, marking his territory.

After a moment of cleaning up and giving you small tokens of affection through praises and kisses, the men are right back at each other’s throats.

“Ya know, if you’re not able to keep up, I can breed her cunt, and let ya pass off my kid as yours.” Toji taunts with a smirk.

“Yeah, as if your first kid didn’t look like he came from your ass. Fat chance. Sweets and I are gonna make a pretty blue-eyed baby with white hair.” Satoru hums as he affectionately ruffles your hair. “Isn’t that right, pretty~?”

[portgasdwrld]

★ Hickeys

ೃ⁀➷do they suck (lol) at hickeys, giver or receiver?, how? all answered down below by your beloved Tomie✨

ೃ⁀➷Psss this is a head-canon, take it lightly~

ೃ⁀➷ Suggestive, implied f!reader, NSFW language

ೃ⁀➷ monster trio + Law+ Ace

: ̗̀➛ Luffy

He’s the type to receive them more than to give

When he realizes he has hickeys, he’s just gonna wonder how it’s even possible and if smth hit his neck during a fight💀

Probably gonna bug Chopper about it, until he brushes him off mentioning it’s nothing

Then when you’re making out and you linger on his neck, it clicks into his mind. He yells a « ooohh, It was you! » after realizing that, it surprises you and you almost bit his skin-

He’s down to try it when you explain that you want them on you too

« You want me to suck your skin a little until it bruises? A bit like when you bruise after a fight? »

« Ugh… not the same but you got the spirit? »

He’s dense, but he tried and he didn’t do as bad as you thought

: ̗̀➛ Law

LMAO?? Wouldn’t he be the type to lowkey hit you with a scientific facts that hickeys can kill you if done wrong🤓😭

Ik he would. Im so sorry😮‍💨

On another note, tbh I feel like he’s just sooo into it, when his mind is fogged by lust. He will be making out with you and damn, he’s now leaving wet kisses all over your neck. That itself, just awaken some type of possessive strike and you’re left with hickeys a bit everywhere.

Will quietly eye them when y’all are cuddling after sex. He won’t comment on it beside if you point them out.

“They look great.”

It would be the most reaction you will get out of him. He’s so hot though- intrusive thoughts but they are real 😔

He doesn’t mind at all if you leave some on him fr. Like if it’s done within the right vibe and y’all are just kicking it and you’re riding him or y’all in lotus position, he might even groan and moan a little louder and curse under his breath.

: ̗̀➛ Sanji

Oh his mouth is ALLL OVERR your body. He’s kissing, praising, leaving hickeys all over your body. On you chest, between your thighs, on you collarbone.

He’s almost in a trance while he loves your body and mark it. He’s gotta to enjoy his pretty lover and you bet he’s gonna make it known that you are his and he’s the lucky man who has you!!

He’s so sweet about it, with sweet compliments, but it’s a bit messy too. Wet patches, mumbles from his muffled lips.

He’s SOOOOO down if you wanna do it on him. He gets very excited and can’t stop smiling and touching your body.

“Yes of course I’m down! Wanna try it rn? We got time yk..”

Best boy 🤧

ೃ⁀➷ Zoro

His neck always has some hickeys from you. He thought he hated it, but he quickly got over it and finds it hot now.

He doesn’t care too much if someone stare at them, but he will throw a curse out with a deadpan expression, if someone made a snarky comment.

He also has this possessive strike, so you bet you’re gonna have some type of bruises-hickeys on your body after y’all are done. Because he doesn’t go easy on you, he will be thrusting deep into you, while silencing you with his fingers deep in your mouth. Along with that, his mouth is nibbling on you neck and all your sensitive spots.

It’s an overstimulating mess.

He smirks satisfied when he sees you marked up, moaning his name and completely lost into his touch.

ೃ⁀➷ Ace

Oh, this man here has the biggest possessive strike out of all the men here.

I touched on the subject a little on my NSFW head canon, but he definitely love giving them. He whines when you do, because he’s apparently allergic to shirts and get slightly annoyed when each of his friends on the ship makes some jokes.

He loves that everyone knows you’re his. Because he gets to have one person for him, that actually feels love toward him and someone he can trust??! That’s the life prize!

Every time he fucks you, he makes sure that hickeys are created everywhere on your body.

He will shower you with attention and cocky comments as he sucks on to your skin.

It’s his specialty😮‍💨

[suguru-getos]

satosugu when you get your period ->

a/n: on my period and want my men spoiling <3 mentions of fluff, period sex etc!!

-> precisely tweaking. they don’t even pretend that it’s a normal/casual thing which comes every month. suguru hates the way your mood turns into a low graph 📉 and he takes is sooooo personally :( he’s like, “angel- is there anything you’d like? maybe some waffles? maybe something else? what can i do to help make it better?” tweaking like a mother hen.

-> satoru gets you plushie heating bags because of course they are 💯 times cuter and his babygirl shouldn’t have anything except cute things. he’s definitely going to get you a kuromi, panda plushie, or something along those lines so you look cutesy in your little blanket with a plushie bag on your pelvis.

-> you love chocolates & suguru knows you do. there are sometimes entire goodies in your refrigerator because his little moonshine angel goddess SHOULD have chocolates duh??? you could find high end brands because he really thinks there must be something taste related otherwise why would they be so expensive? imported chocolates ftw 🙌

-> “you know princess, orgasms help~” satoru chirps shamelessly, he don’t care: 🤷🏻‍♀️ and it’s like extra lube for him anyways. 😏 you’d find him fucking the cramping out of your uterus over and over. he loves to see you whimper in pleasure not pain ‼️ like a good boyfriend should. suguru is nasty too, but it is also :3 on another level. he wants to have a go after satoru’s done with you so you just feel his girthier member stretch you out, mouth agape and sobbing in pleasure perhaps. ;)

-> god forbid if you actually stain your exclusive favorite undies then they would take you to shop asap. they know that mild feeling of regret IS NOT NEEDED in the satosugu household. be prepared for replacement immediately. <33

-> suguru hates it when things make you cry during this phase, so you’d find him exta clingy and touchy. eager to comfort, eager to provide you hugs and cuddles. the warmth of his hand kneading your pelvis and humming softly. he loves to see how his presence alone comforts you to a great degree & you end up napping over his chest.

[sceletaflores]

Being a professional masseur for players and taking care of our boy art.

Hes just so sad and so pretty that you just giving head to make him feel better 😔

Plot twist: he falls in love with you because duh? Hot+sex=you being promoted pookie, you are now the donaldsons elite employes!!!!!!

Baby, show me where it hurts...

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you never intended on becoming a "celebrity" massage therapist. you just wanted to be a massage therapist, the whole celebrity thing just sort of happened, you blame cali for that. but the novelty of your job wore off long ago, you hardly blink at the clients on your table nowadays. that is until tashi duncan calls you and absolutely fucks everything up

— or: art donaldson needs a massage therapist…

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, oral (m!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), p in v, fingering (fem!receiving), angst? maybe? could this be considered angst?, slight age gap, no tashi duncan erasure because i don't stand for that, cheating but not really cause tashi knows, she always knows, she is an all seeing eye, and she kind of orchestrates it, SOOOOO much plot, like way too much i'm sorry, art being sad and tired, art also being kinda pathetic a little bit, unprofessional massages, no use of y/n.

word count: 10k+ (someone stop me....pls still read this lmao)

author's note: this ask was blessedly placed in my inbox and it was all i’ve thought about since. this is my first big fic since my mike schmidt days so hopefully i'm not rusty! i've seen this damn cursed hell movie ten times, so hopefully i do it justice. i'm also still struggling sooo much with art and tashi as characters so please bear with me if they aren't movie accurate i'm trying my best. okay. thank you. hope you love it! mwah xoxo.

You don't get starstruck often, not anymore at least. The clients that find their way onto your table are just that in your eyes, clients. You don't see them as big time "celebrities”. Just men and women who need your professional help.

That being said, you almost dropped your phone the first time the Tashi Duncan called you.

It was a normal work day for you, spent buried in paperwork and training a new secretary. You're folding the steam room towels on your lunch break when your phone rings. No caller ID, you answer it anyways.

"Hello, you've reached Lush Retreat Med Spa," you rattle off into your phone, placing it between your ear and shoulder to continue folding. "How can we help you?"

"This is Tashi Duncan calling for Art Donaldson, we've heard great things about you and were hoping to schedule an appointment."

The towel drops from your hands, your mouth falling open in shock. You reach up to tightly grip your phone, not wanting to embarrass yourself by dropping your phone with Tashi fucking Duncan on the end of the line.

Of course you know who she is, but doesn't everyone? The tennis prodigy from Stanford who was on top of the world when a tragic knee injury stole everything from her in a single second. You absolutely idolized her when you were in high school and playing tennis competitively. You watched all the recorded matches you could get your hands on, wore your DUNCANATOR shirts to practice constantly, only bought the tennis rackets she used. You had her fucking posters plastered on the walls of your old bedroom for Christ's sake.

That was until you, ironically, shattered your wrist in a car accident and had to hang up the racket and pleated skirts forever. Just like her.

Now, Tashi Duncan and Art Donaldson are California royalty. An unfairly beautiful couple living what seems to be the dream. You'd never kept up much with Art's career like you did Tashi's, but you follow them both on Instagram and you see his face on billboards all over the city almost daily so you can assume it was fruitful. It may help him that he's extremely easy on the eyes, or "super fucking hot!" in your coworkers words.

"Hello?" Her voice ringing out from the tiny speaker ripped you out of your thoughts and back into reality.

"Y-yes, sorry," you cringe internally at yourself, stuttering over your words like a loser. You force yourself to sound professional when you speak again, "We'd love to help you any way we can. Do you have a certain time and date in mind already?"

"We're not home right now, we were thinking next Thursday. Around four." There's no question mark on the end of her sentence, you know that she isn't asking you, she's telling you. You don't even bother to check the schedule before you're answering.

"We will be free that day. I'll go ahead and put you in our system." you rush over to the front desk computer and open the calendar, thankfully you are actually free for Thursday. "I'm assuming you know our location?" you ask as you type in the appointment details, ignoring how your fingers shake ever so slightly as you type Tashi into the slot.

"Actually," Tashi's voice has a different tone to it when she speaks again, it’s something you can’t quite place, your fingers slow down slightly as you listen, "we wanted to make this a home visit."

You stop typing completely, brows furrowed in confusion as you stare at your computer screen. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Donaldson but we don't do at home appointments…per our policy." you reply meekly, almost surprised that you're denying her.

"Duncan, actually,” she corrects you nonchalantly, you don’t have time to unpack that before she’s speaking again. “We did read that on your website, but we'd hope you might make an exception. You wouldn't need to bring much. We have our own table." Her tone isn't harsh or impolite, just firm and certain, like she knows you'll give in to her.

You do.

"Well," you bite your lip as you wrestle internally with yourself, torn between what you want to do and what you should do. "Okay, we can do that for you."

"Great. I'll send you the address. See you then." She hangs up without saying goodbye.

You plant your phone next to you and stare at the filled out appointment slot taking up your computer screen, processing what just happened. You're going to Tashi Duncan's house. To give her hot pro-tennis player husband a massage. In their house.

"What the fuck."

SIX DAYS LATER...

The walk up to The Donaldson's huge mansion on a mountain has your stomach turning in on itself. All week you were a ball of nervous energy just floating around your office, trying to find anything to distract you from your upcoming appointment. Now that it's here, you feel you may have bitten off more than you could chew.

You hardly got any sleep last night, tossing and turning in your bed for hours before you gave up, barging into your building's gym to try and sweat your nerves out. When that didn't work you just retreated back to your apartment and got ready.

You try not to think about why it took you so long to get ready, longer than most work mornings. Taking more time in the shower, more time doing your hair, more time doing your makeup.

You even choose an outfit you'd hardly ever wear in front of regular clientele. A matching white polo set, a skirt in place of shorts. You tell yourself that you just want to look good, who wants to look like a mess in front of Tashi Duncan?

Your hands white-knuckle the steering wheel of your car on the drive over. You couldn’t even play any music, the noise in your head already too loud as it was, only cranking up the AC and silently following the crisp voice of your GPS reading off the directions Tashi sent you.

The closer you get to the door the more you want to turn and run down the insanely long driveway, get back in your car and haul ass home without ever looking back.

You don't because you're a professional, or at least that's what you keep telling yourself.

Your hand shakes as you ring their doorbell, hearing it echo back at you from the inside. You only wait a few seconds before the large door swings open and there she is.

Tashi Duncan is every bit as beautiful in person as she is splashed across the pages of magazines and blown up twenty feet on billboards. She looks so effortlessly classy in her Ralph Lauren sweater and flowy black dress pants.

Your name falls from her lips, and all the blood rushes to your ears. Her silky voice wraps around each syllable with an enticing heat that makes you weak in the knees. You feel sixteen years old all over again, standing at the woman who basically molded you into who you are today. It's a dizzying sensation, the rush of nostalgia and emotions flooding in like an avalanche. The memories you have locked away in your brain of the countless late night practices, the hundreds of hours spent on the court, the trophies and ribbons littering your moms basement collecting dust, the refusal to give up and pushing your body past its own limits because you wanted to be just like her. You wanted to be Tashi Duncan, and when you catch yourself nervously rubbing your thumb over the scar spanning your right wrist, you guess in some sick twisted way that you kind of are.

"So glad you could make it," she greets breezily, stepping to the side to let you in. “We were worried you’d get lost.”

The house is, of course, beautiful on the inside. Tall ceilings, big fireplace, a beautiful staircase leading to the second floor. There’s toys strewn messily along the living room floor, the TV mounted on the wall is paused on ESPN.

You hope you don’t look as crazy as you feel taking in the space, taking in the fact that Tashi is standing right in front of you. 

“No, the directions were very helpful,” your voice only slightly wavers as you respond, you count that as a win, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Donalds–uh–Duncan.” You cringe at your fumble, but try to power through by extending Tashi your hand.

She watches you for a second, sharp eyes flicking over your body quickly like she’s inspecting you. It makes your cheeks feel warm as you struggle to not squirm underneath her gaze. Finally, she takes your hand in hers and gives it a firm shake. You ignore the way her touch makes your palm burn.

“Art should already be in the massage room, it’s in the pool house,” Tashi says, gesturing to the huge windows in the living room showing off a lavish underground pool with a smaller building situated next to it, “I have to take a phone call here in a few minutes so I trust you’ll find your way there.”

You nod slowly, adjusting the strap of your supply bag on your shoulder. Tashi doesn't even pause walking further into the house as she speaks to you, heels clicking with each step as she makes her way to the large staircase in the middle of the room. There’s still no question marks tacked on to the end of her sentences, just like over the phone. 

“It’s just through that door, first room on the left. I told him to leave the door open for you.” She continues, reaching the stairs and making her way up slowly. She tosses her head over her shoulder to make eye contact with you again. “He’s been complaining about his shoulder acting up. The right one, it’s what needs the most attention. He serves with that arm, we need it at a hundred.” she fires off casually, like she’s recited this information before.

You go to speak but her phone ringing cuts you off, echoing off the house's crisp white walls. “Thank you for coming to see us, it was nice meeting you.” Tashi says politely, giving you one final once over before she’s answering her phone and disappearing up the stairs.

“It was nice meeting you too…” you trail off quietly, fully caught off guard by whatever the hell that was. Out of every single time you’d fantasized about what meeting Tashi Duncan would be like, none of them were quite like this. At least it’s over you figure, and you even managed to not make a complete fool of yourself.

You hold onto that tiny win as you walk through the living room doors and outside, making your way to the pool house like Tashi instructed. The entrance is unlocked as you step inside, thankfully you spot the cracked door a little ways in front of you. 

The sound of your footsteps are loud as you make your way down the short hallway, tennis shoes making small thump sounds against the concrete floor. You pause for just a second outside the cracked door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open and stepping inside. The room is empty, the only things inside are some shelves lined with various essential oils and lotions, and an expensive looking massage table in the center. You muse over the fact that their table looks a little better than the ones in your own spa, no wonder they wanted a home visit.

The room is well lit as you walk around, dim in a way that promotes relaxation. The soft, ambient lighting bathes the room in a gentle, golden glow, complemented by the flicker of aromatic candles placed strategically around the space. You wonder who lit them, Tashi? Or maybe Art? You let out a small laugh at the idea of Tashi Duncan and Art Donaldson fawning over the room before you showed up, setting up candles and mood lighting to make it feel nicer, less clinical.

You’re probably just reading too much into it. You always urge clients to ask for anything that will make them feel more comfortable, apparently Art just likes eucalyptus sage candles and mood lighting. It has nothing to do with you. 

Your name being said from somewhere behind you rips you out of your own mind. You whirl around, and find yourself face to face with six time Grand Slam Champion, Tashi Duncan’s super hot husband, Art Donaldson. And he’s only wearing a fucking towel.

“Hello,” he greets with a kind smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “it’s nice to finally meet you, thank you so much for taking the time to come out here.” 

Art is already worlds different from Tashi, or that’s what you’re inferring after spending less than five minutes with each of them. It’s still extremely apparent, Tashi has an almost overpowering presence to her, everything about her commands respect and she knows that. She uses that to her advantage, she likes it like that.

The man standing in front of you is nothing like that. The Art Donaldson in front of you doesn’t seem like some big shot tennis player with more impressive stats than you could wrap your head around. You’ve come to know that a few pro-sports guys like to swing their dicks around, bragging about their booming careers non-stop during a session. Yet everything about Art is unassuming as he stands in the doorway like he’s trying to make himself look smaller. 

“Hi, Mr. Donaldson,” you’re not sure if it's appropriate to offer a man wearing a towel dangerously low on his hips your hand, you decide against it. “It’s no trouble really, I’m happy to help.”

“Please, call me Art.” The tone of his voice makes you want to shiver, smooth and warm like honey. 

You try your best not to stare, but it’s so hard to ignore the toned expanse of Art’s body when it’s right there. He’s all broad shoulders, firm pecs, sculpted legs, with a cut Adonis belt. He’s like a marble statue, made in Michelangelo's perfect image.

Your eyes trail back up his body, lingering on his chest before rising up to his face. You’re mortified to see he’s staring right back at you, effectively catching you in the act. Your cheeks burn as you tear your gaze away, looking at anything and everything other than him. In your panic, you don’t notice the way his eyes rake over you in the same way.

“Okay, Art,” you say a little breathlessly, tightening your grip on the strap of your bag. “It’s nice to meet you. Mrs. Duncan let me know about your major problem areas, I’ll be sure to focus on them.” Involuntarily bringing up Tashi has your stomach clenching up in guilt, you just got done ogling her husband's body. You hope he takes the silent cue you're giving him to get on the damn table so you can start the massage and get the hell out of here.

Art nods silently, walking over to the table and moving to lie down on his stomach. You busy yourself with prepping your oils, taking them out of your bag and setting them on a small side table next to the massage bed uncapped for easy access. You can’t help but sneak glances at the rippling muscle of Art’s back as he shifts, his skin looks soft and is littered with freckles. You don’t miss the hiss he lets out when he lays his weight on his shoulder.

You usually don’t speak much during appointments, only engaging in conversation when your client initiates it, but you feel the need to fill the silence between you and Art. The quiet atmosphere makes everything seem far too intimate, and sure on some level it always is, but this feels different.

“How’d you hurt it? Your shoulder. If you don’t mind me asking.” you ask once he’s settled, placing your fingertips to the middle of his right shoulder, feeling around for any tension. Art tenses slightly at your touch, taking a sharp breath. You guess you should have warned him, you open your mouth to apologize but he lets out a small breath and relaxes onto the table again.

Art sighs, his voice tinged with weariness. "It was, uh, during a match. I overextended trying to return a serve. Haven't been able to move it properly since."

You nod, hands starting to move in slow, deliberate circles across the muscle. “That sounds about right. Most people don’t realize how brutal tennis is to the body, injuries are common,” you pointedly try to ignore the flashbacks of your wrist failing to swing a racket properly after you healed from your accident, flashbacks of watching as the bone pierced through your skin. “Sounds like you might need to take it easy for a while.” you continue, trying to keep the conversation light.

Art chuckled, though it was devoid of real humor. "Yeah, I’ve been playing a lot lately. Guess I pushed myself too hard." He winces slightly as you work on a particularly tight knot, shoulder tensing under your hands. 

You pause, your hands stilling momentarily as you catch the underlying tension in Art's voice. "The season’s almost over, maybe it's time to give yourself a break, take some time to rest and recuperate." you remark softly, your tone gentle yet concerned.

Art's gaze flickers to yours, a flicker of vulnerability shining through. "I wish I could," he admits, his voice heavy, "But it's hard to step away, especially when it feels like it's all I have that’s still keeping everything together."

Your heart clenches at the raw honesty in his words. He’s completely silent afterwards, you wonder if he’s regretting telling you something like that, like maybe it just fell out of his mouth before he could stop it. Without a word, you continue to knead away the tension in his muscles, offering a silent gesture of support.

As you continue to work, hands skillfully moving over Art’s shoulder, you can’t help but notice the weariness in Art's demeanor. His presence feels heavy, almost broken, as if the physical pain was just a small part of what he was carrying. You feel a pang of sympathy for him. You can feel the weight of struggles pressing down on him, the way his shoulders sag slightly even under your careful touch.

“I can feel the tension here," you say gently, applying a little more pressure,  "Just try to relax.” 

With each knead and press, you remind yourself of your role. You’re here to help him heal, and that was all that mattered. But as your hands move over his warm skin, you can’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t what you had anticipated, something that made your heart race with both excitement and anxiety. You were so worried about meeting Tashi you completely forgot about Art. It’s a different story now as your hands explore the smooth planes of his back to the steady sound of his breathing.

"You're really good at this," Art says after a while, his voice a bit lighter. 

You smile, a genuine one, the first real smile you’ve had since you got here. “Thanks. I’d hope so after all this time.”

Art lets out a small chuckle muffled by the table, it makes your stomach flutter. “How did you get into this? Massage therapy seems interesting.”

You laugh but it’s a bitter sound, moving your hands down to focus lower on Art’s shoulder. You try not to think about your tennis career, even after all this time you struggle with the memories despite all the good it brought you. “That’s a long story.” you mutter under your breath, even to your own ears you sound resentful.

“I’ve got time.” It’s a simple reply, but it’s so honest. Like Art’s genuinely interested in you, in getting to know you. It makes you feel dizzy.

“I, um,” you worry your lip between your teeth, working your hands harder over Art’s back. “I actually used to play tennis. When I was in high school.”

Art makes an interested noise, shifting under your hands as he moves his head to lay on the side of the table so he could look up at you. “No shit?” he looks more shocked than anything. 

You nod, humming in confirmation as you finally move onto his other shoulder. “Yup, I was pretty serious about it back then, until I got injured.” You don’t meet Art’s gaze, but you can see how his face falls in your peripheral vision. You kind of want to laugh at how ironic this moment is, you wonder if Art’s thinking about Tashi’s knee. You know he was at the match, you’ve seen the blurry footage of Tashi Duncan’s fall from grace, watched Art vault over the net to get to her.

“That’s awful. I’m sorry.” He sounds like he means it.

“It’s okay, wasn't like it was my fault or anything,” you say, finally meeting his eyes with a rueful smile and raising your right wrist to show him your scar. “I got hit by a drunk driver coming home late from practice one night. Nasty fracture, bone went straight through.” You hope your voice is coming out as nonchalant as you’re trying to make it sound.

Art's eyes widen in disbelief as he takes in your scar, a mixture of shock and sympathy evident on his face. "Wow, that's...terrible," he murmurs, his voice tinged with compassion.

You shrug, the memories still vivid despite the passage of time. "It was tough, it was awful actually. All the physical therapy in the world couldn’t get a racket back in my hand,” you confess softly, fingers tracing the outline of the scar absentmindedly again. “But it also forced me to reevaluate things, in a way. It made me realize that life doesn't always go according to plan.” You see Tashi’s knee buckling in your mind's eye. “When I finally realized that I could take all the hate and all the anger I was feeling and channel it into something good, something like massage therapy, I never looked back."

You immediately regret over-sharing, feeling silly telling Art your sob story, but when you meet his eye again, he has an odd look on his face. His expression is soft as he looks up at you through long lashes, understanding and empathy swimming in the blue of his eyes.

"Well, silver linings, huh?" he says after a few seconds, there’s traces of a smile playing on his lips. You let out a small laugh, nodding your head slightly.

"Yeah," you agree, a small smile on your lips. "Silver linings." 

As the conversation fades into a comfortable silence, you and Art find yourselves locked in a silent exchange, your eyes meeting and holding a depth of something you can’t quite pick up on. In that moment, the world around you seems to blur, leaving only the two of you suspended in a shared moment of vulnerability. There's a subtle shift in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that has formed between you, as if you've uncovered a piece of each other.

The shrill ringing of your phone’s alarm pierces through the moment, both you and Art jump at the sudden sound. It’s like a cold bucket of water pouring over your head, washing away whatever just happened between the two of you. The session’s over, you’re done. 

“Okay,” you say a little too loudly, taking your hands off Art's back like his skin could burn you any second. “Looks like we’re all done.” You try to smile but it feels fake, forced, so you turn your back to Art and start capping your oils to shove them back in your bag.

Art’s voice breaks the silence as you pack up, sounding a little less confident than it did earlier. “Uh, my neck has been bothering me too, recently,” he says offhandedly as he sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the table. “I think I may have slept on it wrong.”

You stop what you’re doing, turning to face Art again, silently cursing him for not just letting you leave. “Do you want me to take a look before I go?” You pray he says no. You should know it won’t be that easy, not with your shit luck.

“If you don’t mind?” His tone is so hopeful and his eyes are so big that your feet are walking towards him before your mind can catch up. 

“Not at all,” you reply, your voice steady despite the tightness in your chest. You step closer, practically between his slightly spread legs, feeling the warmth of his skin even before you touch him. Your fingers brush against his neck, and he shivers slightly, the muscles tight and knotted beneath your touch.

"Just relax," you murmur, trying to maintain any shred of professional demeanor. As you work, you can't help but notice the way his breath hitches, the tension in his body melting away under your skilled hands. The room feels smaller, the air heavier with each passing second.

He closes his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "That feels amazing," he whispers, and you swallow hard, trying to focus solely on the task at hand. As you work, the intimacy of the moment isn't lost on you, and you can't help but wonder if he feels it too.

Minutes tick by like hours as you work the tense muscle of Art’s neck. You're acutely aware of every sigh, every shift in his body, every subtle reaction to your touch. You finally pull away when you think it’s been enough time, eager to get out of this damn house before you do something you’ll regret.

You didn’t notice how close you really were to Art until you pulled back only to be met with his face mere inches away from yours. Startled by the sudden proximity, you freeze, caught off guard by the intensity of Art's gaze. His eyes, dark and searching, seem to hold a silent question, a silent invitation.

Now, Art’s body is one thing, it’s objectively perfect. He’s a professional athlete, of course it’s perfect. It has to be perfect. It’s his damn face that gets you.

He’s beautiful, beyond beautiful. He looks like he should be splayed across canvas hanging in the Louvre. The dim lighting in the room illuminates his face beautifully, his golden hair haloing around his head makes him look ethereal. Each of his features look as if they were handcrafted by a master sculptor, each contour and line a testament to perfection. His chiseled jawline speaks of strength and determination, while his lips, soft and inviting, seem to beckon you closer with every breath. His eyes are deep pools of ocean blue, though this close you can see a small splash of brown in his left eye you didn’t notice before, swirling with emotions that stir something deep within you. 

Something more shocking than Art’s beauty, is how fucking tired he looks. Lines of exhaustion are etched along his face, subtle but undeniable. The weariness in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent plea for respite from the relentless demands of tennis. And yet, even amidst the exhaustion, there's a flicker of longing. He’s staring at you like he needs you, eyes wide and yearning. His chest rising and failing a little more harshly than it did before, each exhale coming out ragged and sharp.

“Art…” you whisper, heart threatening to beat out of your chest. He’s so warm, the heat emitting off of him makes you want to lean into it. You want to crawl on top of his powerful thighs and bury your face in his chest and never leave. Your hands flex where they’re draped over Art’s neck.

It happens in slow motion, Art’s hand trails up the skin of your thigh as your name falls from his lips like a prayer, and it’s like you’ve been electrocuted. You’re rearing back with a sharp breath, dropping your hands from his neck and taking a couple steps back. 

“It was really nice to- uh to meet you, Art.” you say frantically, swinging your bag firmly over your shoulder and rushing to the door. Art’s still sitting on the table, silently watching you panic. He doesn’t try to stop you. “I hope your shoulder feels better,” is all you say before bursting out the door and speed walking out of the pool house. 

Your heart's racing as you walk through the backyard, hands shaking even through the death grip you have on the strap of your bag. What the hell was that? What the hell was that? Did Art Donaldson just make a pass at you? You must be imagining things. 

The thought rattles around in your mind, refusing to be dismissed. His words, his tone—they seemed to linger in the air, haunting you with their implications. The way he touched you, like he couldn’t help himself. But no, it couldn't be. He was married to Tashi, and besides, he was just being polite, right? You try to convince yourself of that as you make your way back to the house.

As you walk inside, still slightly shaken up, Tashi’s the first thing you see. She’s sitting in the living room, laptop open on the coffee table in front of her. 

“Hey,” she says, sitting up straighter on the coach, “how was it?”

You swallow, urging yourself to calm down. “It was great, he should be seeing some improvement over the next few days.”

Tashi nods her head, seemingly pleased though it doesn’t show on her face. “Could this be a weekly thing, these appointments. He could really use them.” 

No question marks. Motherfucker.

You flounder, stomach dropping. “Weekly? As in every Thursday?”

Tashi’s brow raises, eyes looking over you inquisitively. “Yes, preferably all home visits.”She stands from the couch, taking a couple steps towards you. “We read on your website you take permanent clients, is that not the case anymore.”

You shake your head, eyes wide as they follow her while she walks. “N-no, Mrs. Duncan we do. We could pencil you in if you’re willing to pay monthly for the time slot. Would you like to talk to some of my other employees to work out a rotating schedule?”

Tashi stops a few feet away from you, hands in her pockets. “Actually, we were hoping you’d be the one coming down. The only one.” You blink, her words slam over you like a ton of bricks. Just you, in a room with a half-naked Art. Every single Thursday. That can’t happen, not after what just went down between the two of you.

You can practically hear the warning bells blaring in your mind, urging you to refuse, to put an end to this before it spirals out of control. Yet, there's another voice, quieter but no less insistent, whispering seductive promises of what could be if you were to stay.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you grapple with the conflicting desires warring within you. Tashi's expectant gaze weighs heavily on you, waiting for your response, and you know that whatever decision you make will irrevocably alter the course of things between you and Art. With a shaky breath, you steel yourself, the weight of your choice settling like a stone in your stomach.

"I...I'll do it," you finally say, the words leaving your lips before you can stop them. "I'll make sure to pencil you in for weekly sessions, Mrs. Duncan."

Tashi's lips curve up slightly, satisfied, but beneath the surface you can sense the tension thrumming through the air. You've made your choice, for better or for worse, and now you can only hope that it won't lead to the downfall of everything you've worked so hard to build.

“Wonderful,” she says, gesturing for you to follow her to the front door. You trail behind her like a loyal pet, silently allowing her to drag you wherever she pleases. “Thank you again for coming out, and please,” she pauses with her hand on the doorknob, turning to meet your eye, “call me Tashi.”

"Thank you, Tashi," you murmur softly, the weight of her name feeling foreign on your tongue when you’re actually saying it to her for the first time. "I'll make sure to arrange everything at the office."

Tashi's smile widens, though there's a glint of something unreadable in her eyes. "I look forward to seeing you, then," she says, her tone laced with a hint of anticipation. "And please, if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to reach out."

With a final nod, Tashi opens the front door, the outside world beckoning beyond its threshold. You take a hesitant step forward, the weight of your decision pressing down on your shoulders like a heavy burden. As you step out into the cool evening air, you can't shake the feeling that you've just crossed a line from which there may be no turning back. But for now, all you can do is steel your nerves and hope that you haven't made a huge mistake.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX DAYS LATER…

Your sessions with Art continue on. The guilt settling deep in your stomach each time you set foot in the Donaldson/Duncan house also continues. It worsens each time the two of you are alone in that damned massage room. Technically you’ve done nothing wrong, but you know deep in the back of your mind that what you’re doing isn’t normal. Each meeting is a strange mixture of tension and familiarity. When you arrive, Tashi always greets you warmly, her trust in you unwavering. It feels like a dagger each time, twisting deeper and deeper into your conscience. 

Neither of you talk about it, what happened during your session, and Art doesn’t treat you any differently. He still goes out of his way to make polite conversation, asking you about your life, about your business, he even brings up old anecdotes you told him offhandedly. He doesn’t talk about tennis, and he has to know you can keep up in conversation with it since you told him about your history with it, you just assume he doesn’t want to. 

That makes sense, you always think back to the first time he met you. How he brushed off any conversation about his career, how his demeanor changed when he spoke about it. How drained he looked. There was a sadness in his eyes, a weight he carried that seemed to go beyond just a few standard aches and pains. You remember how it struck you then, and it strikes you still, each time you see him.

His shoulder is getting better, you can tell. He can lay on it, or raise it above his head, without wincing. That makes your heart swell, knowing that despite how weird and kind of fucked up everything is, he’s healing. 

The familiar sound of your timer ringing pulls you out of your thoughts. You’re shocked at how fast this appointment flew by, but you could tell as soon as you walked into the massage room to find Art already sitting on the table waiting for you, that something about this session feels different. It’s silly to call it “sensing a bad vibe”, but that’s exactly what you felt entering the room's threshold. 

Art didn’t speak much as you worked, just laying on the table silently after saying hello and asking you about your week. The silence is definitely odd, Art’s not a chatterbox by any means, but he usually keeps some form of conversation flowing. After a while, you start to think it might be something you did, like maybe he’s mad at you. It sounds so stupid in your head, like you’re some poor high school girl getting hung up over a fucking guy giving you the silent treatment.

The only thing more stupid than that is how much it’s actually affecting you. Art has you over analyzing everything you’ve said or done over the last couple visits, you dread that maybe he just came to his senses after all this time. That he finally snapped out of whatever trance he was in and remembered he has a beautiful wife, and that he doesn’t really want you.

“Alright,” you say softly, stepping away from the table, “All done.” As you turn off the timer and gather your thoughts, you can't shake the feeling that something is off. You force yourself to bury it, Art doesn’t owe you an explanation, he doesn’t owe you anything. You aren’t his.

You glance over at him as he slowly sits up, his expression unreadable. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. You offer a small smile in return, trying to squash all the ugly feelings mixing in your stomach. You turn to busy yourself with packing up, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu.

Art’s voice cuts through the silence, sounding weary. “Are we still pretending it didn’t happen?”

It catches you off guard, making you drop the bottle in your hands back onto the table loudly. Your heart races as you turn back to face him, unsure of how to respond. The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, demanding a response you’re not sure you’re ready to give.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “I...I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess I was hoping we could just…forget about it.”

Art’s eyes search yours, filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty. “I don’t think I can,” he confesses, his voice tinged with sadness.

The same feelings from that day rush back in your mind, flooding all your senses. It's as if time folds in on itself, bringing you right back to that moment where everything changed. You feel panic clawing its way up your body, fight or flight response waging a war inside of you.

You chose flight, shoving the last bottle in your bag and making a break for the door. Ready to run just like you did back then, run and come back next week with your tail between your legs desperately trying to forget that this ever happened, again. Art’s voice stops you just as you have your hand on the doorknob.

“Please…” he whispers, he sounds so broken, so vulnerable. “Please, don’t run.”

You don’t know what it is, maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you, or the repressed feelings, or your shitty back bone, but whatever it is makes you pause, hand falling off the doorknob to lay limp at your side. You turn back to face him, the raw need in his eyes mirrored by your own emotions. It tugs at your heart, making it impossible to leave. You feel a surge of guilt and hesitation, but the longing in his gaze holds you captive. Slowly, you make your way towards him, taking small slow steps like you could still leave at any minute, but you know you won’t.

You walk until you’re crowding him, standing between his spread legs just like you did all those sessions ago. His eyes are wide, almost disbelieving, like he thought you’d turn around and slam the door on him instead. Which is what you should do, you should walk out that door right now and never step foot in their house again. 

Art whispers your name, his voice a soft caress that sends sparks zapping down your spine. You're close enough to feel his breath fanning over your face, warm and intimate. You inhale, like you’re trying to absorb his words, his essence, his everything. 

His hand takes yours, bringing it up to his chest. He presses it firmly against his pec, right on top of his heart. You can feel the rapid, uneven thumping beneath your palm. His thumb caresses your wrist gently, making goosebumps pebble over your skin.

It’s easy to get lost in Art’s eyes, so you’re shocked to notice something that very quickly grabs your attention. Art’s towel is tented obscenely, hard cock straining against the thick material. You swallow roughly at the sight, feeling the need to touch, to take, to help.

Your knees hit the floor before you fully realize the entire gravity of what you’re doing. You don’t care about any of that anyway, not right now. 

Right now Art Donaldson is swiping his thumb across the scar on your wrist with his big sparkly eyes desperately looking into yours, unashamedly begging for you to touch him. 

Who are you to deny him?

Your hands find the knot of his towel and yank it roughly, ripping it off Art's hips and tossing it aside. His hard cock springs out, slapping up against his stomach enticingly. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, pleased to see he’s perfect all over. 

Art’s cock is long, and thick. He’s big, but in an exciting way, not in an intimidating way. He’s already steadily drooling pre-cum from his soft pink tip, already so hard and you haven’t even touched him yet. You reach up, tracing your finger along the length of him lightly. Art inhales, his eyes fluttering closed as you touch him for the first time. The anticipation in the room is palpable, a heady mix of desire and need that seems to swirl around you both.

You circle your hand around the base of his cock, stroking up and up until your hand bumps into the head, where you start to rub your thumb back and forth gently, spreading the wetness from his pre-cum before sliding your hand back down. Slowly, you lean in, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his cock before taking him into your mouth, savoring the taste of him as he groans deeply, hands gripping the massage table tightly.

“Shit,” he grits out, casting his gaze to the ceiling, chest already heaving raggedly. 

You slide the warmth of your mouth down the shaft of his cock, moaning at the heady taste of him, skin soft and velvety on your tongue. 

“Fuck, your mouth…” Art whispers above you, his words trailing off into a string of breathy moans. You hum in response, working his cock faster to draw out more of those noises. Hollowing your cheeks, you sink down towards the circle of your fist still holding the base of his cock with wet, slippery slurping sounds. Art’s hand lets go of the table, coming up to cup your cheek in a move way too intimate for what the two of you are doing.

You chance a look up, and your heart skips several beats at what you see. Art’s already staring down at you, his face twisted up in pleasure. His pale cheeks are flushed, brows drawn together tightly, plush bottom lip caught between his teeth. All that is enough to make you feel ten feet tall, but that’s not what makes you pause.

It’s his eyes, the way Art’s looking at you.

The look in his eyes is…worshipful. Reverent. Like you’re a celestial being, a divine grace walking among mortals. Not some girl on her knees for a married man in his house’s private fucking massage room.

Yet the longer you hold his gaze, while still working your mouth over his hard cock, you feel something strange stirring inside you. Art’s eyes holding such a longing reverence so intense, it was starting to elevate you to a pedestal of adoration. Of devotion.

Right now Art’s like the sun, burning so brightly you feel you need to look away before he consumes you, but you don’t.

“Please,” Art begs desperately, voice so soft you barely even hear it. There’s tears welling in his eyes, his red rimmed and so so tired looking eyes. It breaks your heart, how could such a wonderful man be reduced to this?

You pull off Art’s cock, hand still pumping firmly over him. He whines at the loss of your mouth, hips bucking up to chase after the warm heat. His tip bumps over your lips as he moves, trailing a thin line of pre-cum across them.

Without breaking eye contact, you speak.

“You’re so good, Art.” 

It’s those four words whispered against the tip of Art's leaking cock that has him coming with a hitched breath and a soft cry. A few bursts of his warm come land over your parted lips before you take the head of his cock back in your mouth to greedily swallow down the rest. 

"Thank you, fuck, thank you...!" Art grates out as his body trembles above you, hand squeezing yours so hard it borders on painful. You know you’re never coming back from this, but you still  squeeze back as hard as you can all the same.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX DAYS LATER…

Maybe this is just your life now, fucking the husband of the woman you worshiped like a God for years on end. It’s like you can’t stop, like you’re an addict or something. No matter how disgusting and shameful you feel every time you get home from Art’s appointments, you can’t help but give into him. It’s a twisted dance, a cycle of pleasure and regret that you can’t seem to break. One look into his sad, kicked puppy eyes and you crack. You’ve convinced yourself it's just you reveling in the feeling of being truly wanted for the first time. But deep down, you know it’s more than that. It’s the way he makes you feel alive, the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters in his world.

Art wants you. He needs you. He’s made that more than clear every single visit since you dropped down on your knees for him. The guilt gnaws at you, a constant reminder that you can't escape. Yet, every time you see him, every time he reaches out to you with that desperate need in his eyes, you find yourself powerless to resist. 

You’ve never kissed, not on the lips. Art’s certainly tried, lips seeking yours out as your oiled up fist slips up and down his cock, as you sit on his lap and grind against him until he’s dirtying his towel. You just turn your head every time, letting him trail kisses along your jaw and neck instead somehow feels less real. Kissing Art will make it feel real, you know it will. So you don’t.

Funnily enough, you think things are going well. Maybe even as well as getting a married man off every Thursday can go. You can see a change in Art, in his behavior and the way he holds himself. He smiles more, he laughs more, it’s like he’s giving more of himself to you each time you meet with him. It’s exhilarating, the way your presence has this effect on him, almost as if you’re breathing new life into him.

Art’s newfound lightness is infectious. You find yourself looking forward to Thursdays with an anticipation that borders on impatience. The way he looks at you, the tender touches that linger just a bit longer, the conversations that flow more freely–it all feels like a dream you’re afraid to wake up from. 

You should have known it was too good to be true, that this little world you created in your head was just the calm before the storm.

Everything about this session was normal to start. It’s a little less intense since Art’s shoulder is doing better, now you have free reign over the rest of his body. Greedy hands free to glide over the planes and planes of muscle you’ve become familiar with.

As you work on his lower back, your hands moving in practiced, soothing motions, you notice a subtle rigidity in his muscles. “Everything alright?” you ask, keeping your tone light.

Art hesitates before answering. “Yeah, just…a lot on my mind.”

You frown, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Art stays quiet, still laying silently on the table face down. You stare at the back of his head, like if you stare hard enough you’ll be able to tell what he’s thinking. Taking his silence as not wanting to talk, you continue on. You don’t want to pressure him to confide with you, not when he already has a wife for that.

As your hands continue to move over Art's tense shoulders, he lets out a deep sigh, breaking the silence. "I need you,”  he whispers softly, his voice filled with an unexpected vulnerability. He shifts on the table, leaning up to look you in the eye; his own eyes are watery, lashes clumped together with unshed tears. “It's not just the massages. I need you in my life, no more of this half-assed bullshit. I need all of you.”

You feel your whole world turn upside down in a single second, the distinct feeling of your heart lurching out of your chest and your stomach dropping to your feet. It’s like the walls of the room start moving in on you, caging you in. It makes your chest feel tight, breath coming out in short jagged rasps. Panic grips you, and you violently rip your hands off Art’s body, stumbling back from the massage table.

 "I-I'm sorry, I can't," you stammer, voice choked with emotion, as you turn to flee from the room, not even bothering to grab your stuff. But before you could escape, Art was right behind you, reaching out to catch your wrist, his grip gentle yet firm. "Please don't go, please," he begs, his eyes pleading with you to stay and talk. You wrench your hand free and run out of the room. 

You think you hear Art calling out your name through all the static rushing through your ears, but you’re not sure, and you don’t look back to check. Your feet pound against the tile as you run out of the pool house feeling like you’re about to throw up, or pass out. Art’s confession is the only thing running through your mind. The only thing that’s still clear through your dizzying panic.

You finally start to breathe again when you burst into the house, leaning back against the cool glass of the door to try and relax before you start to spiral. The silence inside is almost oppressive, the only sound the rapid thudding of your heart in your ears. You close your eyes, willing yourself to calm down, to find some semblance of control.

Your name being said grabs your attention, and you open your eyes to find Tashi at the top of the stairs.

“Is everything okay? I heard the door slam.” Her expression is a mix of concern and confusion as she takes a few steps down. You push yourself off the door, you need to leave as soon as possible, before Tashi can reach you and coerce you into staying. 

“Everything's fine!” Your voice sounds shaky despite your best efforts to calm yourself, you’re basically speed walking to the door. “I just, I got a phone call, and I need to leave. Right now. I’m so sorry.”

You don’t even wait for her to reply before you’re yanking the door open and rushing outside. You hope to God that she doesn’t follow you outside. She doesn’t.

You walk, arms wrapped around yourself tightly in a feeble attempt to stop shaking. There are tears burning your eyes and making everything in front of you blurry. The wind whips your hair around your face, stinging your cheeks as you walk further away from the house.

Each step feels heavier, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to make sense of the storm inside you. The chaotic weather seems to mock your turmoil, perfectly matching the chaos you feel. You struggle to piece together what just happened, the intensity of Art’s words echoing in your mind.

“I need you.”

His voice had been so raw, so vulnerable, and it scared you. You weren’t ready for that kind of emotion, that kind of responsibility, that kind of guilt. The weight of it had sent you running, and now you’re left grappling with the aftermath.

Fuck.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX HOURS LATER…

The drive home was a blur. Rain and wind beating against the windshield nearly the whole time. You’d laugh at how ironic it was, like God’s punishing you with shitty weather, but you’re too busy fighting tears to find the humor in it. 

The dread didn’t set in until you got home, stumbling through the front door on shaky legs until you reached your kitchen where you promptly emptied everything in your stomach into your trash. After you force yourself into the shower to wash the rain, and guilt, off of your skin. You scrub yourself raw, skin pink and sensitive to the touch, like that will somehow erase all that you’ve done.

When you finally step out, the bathroom mirror is fogged, a ghostly reflection staring back at you through the mist. You avoid its gaze, wrapping yourself in a towel and padding through your room to collapse onto your bed. The silence of the house presses in on you, letting your thoughts consume you. 

Art’s words play on a loop inside your head, the look on his face burned to the forefront of your mind. The weight of his confession hung heavy in the air, rocking you with its intensity. Running away had seemed like the only option at the time, a knee-jerk reaction to the overwhelming flood of emotions threatening to engulf you. 

You know you didn’t run from Art because you don’t want him, you ran because there’s nothing you want more. In the aftermath, running felt less like a choice and more like an instinctual response to the storm of emotions threatening to consume you whole since the first day you met him. Every step away from Art was a battle against the gravitational pull of your desires, a struggle against the overwhelming urge to surrender to what you both shared.

The truth is crystal clear: you didn't run from Art because you're devoid of feelings for him. You ran precisely because your heart beats in synchrony with his, because the depth of your longing for him is as boundless as the universe itself. 

Your phone pings from the dresser, you ignore it. A second later, it pings again, and again, and again. You furrow your brows, glaring at your nightstand until you reach over and pick up your phone. It’s an unknown number, but you know who it is.

UNKNOWN NUMBER I need to see you.  Please, I can send a car. It's Art. Tashi isn’t home tonight.

Maybe you’re the worst person in the world, but all the fight leaves your body the second you read Art’s texts. You need to see him as much as he needs to see you. Your fingers type out a response before you can think twice.

Art okay.

You send him your address, jumping out of bed to throw on the first things you see. A black SUV was waiting for you as soon as you got downstairs, just as promised. You climbed in after getting confirmation from the driver, and sat in the backseat quietly as you went down the familiar streets. 

As the house comes into view, you can see the front door’s light is still on, waiting for you. You barely wait for the car to stop before you’re opening the car door and stepping outside. The rain immediately drenches you, seeping through your thin sleep clothes. You take two steps before the front door swings open and Art comes rushing out into the rain. He’s only wearing sleep pants, his bare feet smack wetly on the concrete as he runs to you.

Art stops short of you, hesitating, like he doesn’t know whether to touch you or not. You want him to touch you so bad you’re scared it might kill you. The air between you feels charged, every drop of rain a tiny spark. Finally, Art reaches out, his hand trembling as he brushes a soaked strand of hair from your face. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you step closer, collapsing into his arms. The rain continues to fall around you, but at this moment, it’s just the two of you.

"Art," you breathe, your voice trembling. "What are we doing?"

He gazes into your eyes, the raw emotion in his expression mirroring your own. "I don't know," he admits, his hands gently sliding down to your shoulders. "But I can't let you go. Not now." His words hang between you, a fragile thread of honesty that binds you together. You can feel the weight of his words, the sincerity in his voice, and it tugs at your heartstrings.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as his words sink in. The honesty in his gaze, the desperation in his touch—it all overwhelms you, leaving you breathless. The only thing you can think of, the only thing that feels right, is kissing him. So you do.

You lean closer, your heart pounding in your chest, and gently cup his face in your hands. His eyes widen for a moment, a flicker of surprise mingling with the intensity of his emotions. Then, as if drawn together by an invisible force, your lips meet his.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative and sweet, a question and an answer all at once. His lips are cold and slightly trembling, matching the fluttering in your chest. You can taste the salt of your tears mingling with the sweetness of the moment. Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the sensation of his mouth on yours. 

Gradually, the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent and fervent, a silent expression of everything words can’t convey. Art’s arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, his fingers threading through your hair. The heat between you intensifies, both your breath coming faster, mingling as the kiss grows hungrier.

Art’s heartbeat echoes against your chest, you can feel his grip on you getting tighter like he's scared of letting you go. Your hands slide down to his shoulders, your fingers digging into his muscles as you press closer, your bodies molding together. His tongue flicks against your lips, seeking entrance, and you part them eagerly, welcoming him in. The taste of him is intoxicating, a mix of desperation and passion that makes your head spin. A soft moan escapes your lips, and he responds with a low growl, his hands roaming down your back, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“Art,” you say in between kisses, panting into his slick, open mouth. “I need you to fuck me.”

You can feel Art’s whole body shiver, groaning unabashedly into your mouth like he’s dying for it. “I’ve been waiting weeks for you to finally admit that.”

The two of you tear through the house, all tangled limbs and bumbling steps, you trail water all over the floor. Somewhere in the chaos you drop your phone and keys on the large kitchen island. Art refuses to let go of you to walk properly, blindly leading the way so he can keep kissing you breathless.

Art only stops kissing you when you finally make it to his bedroom, pulling away to wrestle the now soaked sleep pants off his legs. You follow by example and peel your shirt off, skin damp and cold but you could care less, not when Art’s pants are pooling at his ankles and he’s throwing his boxers carelessly over his shoulder.

“God,” he breathes out, shaking his head like he can’t believe you're giving him this, “You’re so beautiful.”

The raw honesty in his tone has your cheeks burning, you cast your gaze to the floor instinctually, feeling too overwhelmed by his charged gaze raking over you. You can hear his feet softly padding against the floor, making his way closer. You watch his feet come to a complete stop in front of you, he takes a hold of your chin gently forcing you to look up at him. 

His eyes, intense and unwavering, lock onto yours. “You’re fucking perfect.”

With a gentle push, Art lowers you onto the bed, his weight a comforting presence above you. He tilts your head back and kisses you breathless, one big hand sliding lower and lower on your stomach till he’s got his hand down the front of your shorts, he groans when his hand makes contact with your bare skin. You’d almost forgotten you hadn’t worn any underwear. His hand so close to your aching center has your breath hitching as you kiss, hips bucking up towards his palm.

You reach for his cock, an angry shade red and leaking steadily, but he catches your wrist before you can touch. You meet his eyes confused, but he just shakes his head.

“It’s been about me the whole time, baby. Let me fix that,” he whispers.

You nod your head wordlessly. You wouldn’t dream of denying him, not right now. He smiles, pecking your lips again before he starts to kiss his way downwards. He explores your body with his mouth with such care it has you shaking under every brush his lips. He kisses all down your jaw and neck, taking extra time on your chest to map out the skin of your breasts with his tongue. He circles your right nipple with the tip of his tongue a few times over before he takes it in his mouth, rolling it between his teeth gently. It has your back arching into his mouth, hands scrambling for a purchase on the silk sheets. One long finger slides around your entrance and dips inside, shallow, then deeper, stretching you slowly, carefully, while his other hand rubs your clit with light, gentle touches. “Is this good?” Art asks quietly, voice tinged slightly with insecurity, like you’re not completely unraveling because of him.

“God yes! Yes – fuck! – Art,” you mewl loudly, hips grinding down roughly onto his finger, desperate to take in more of him. You can feel him smile against your skin, pulling off to blow cool air over your hard nipple and repeating it all over again on your left. His finger slides through the wetness collecting in your hole, spreading it to your throbbing clit. He finally sinks a single finger into the warm, tight, heat of your cunt.

Art pulls away from your chest to kiss his way down your stomach, sliding lower and lower on the huge king size mattress, he doesn’t stop the rhythm of his fingers as he peels your shorts down your legs, tossing them aside. A guttural groan leaves his lips at the sight of your slick cunt parting over his fingers, taking them so well. He pitches forward like he can’t help himself, like his lips are magnetically drawn to your cunt, and presses a small kiss to your clit. 

“Fuck!” You squeal and writhe as his finger fucks in and out of you, hands tangling in his messy hair, cheeks flushing at the sound of your leaking cunt squelching against his wrist with each thrust. Art's lips tighten over your clit, sucking for a brief second before he moves back to start laving his tongue over your cunt in careful, slightly clumsy, strokes. The sounds he's making, almost filthy slurping, accompanied by little moans now and then send small vibrations through you that shock your system, making you fist his hair even tighter. 

Art’s lewd noises fill the air, mixing with your own moans to fill the room. His eyes stay closed for the most part, fluttering open every couple seconds to watch you fall apart. Your thighs shake uncontrollably around his head when you make eye contact, threatening to clamp around his ears and keep him there.

A sob tears from your throat when he adds another finger, then he curls them inside you and pulls back and god, shit, shit, fuck, fuck me, god, Art, please fuck me.

“Fuck me Art please fuck me I need it so bad please-” you ramble nonsensically, pulling at Art’s hair desperately. You can feel the warmth starting to pool in your stomach, but you don’t want to come on his tongue, or on his fingers, you want to come with him inside you.

Art lets you drag him up, the bottom half of his face is slick and shiny, drenched in your wetness. He makes his way up your body quickly, hands gripping tightly to your hips, not hesitating to kiss you even as your juices decorate his lips. You kiss back desperately, tasting yourself on his tongue. The head of his cock bumping against your twitching, empty hole has you whining. 

“Fuck me, Art,” you breath hotly, hips canting up needily. “No condom, I’m on the pill. I want you to come inside me. Please, I need it.”

Slowly, he starts to sink in. Feeding you inch by inch torturously slow. He kisses you the whole time, greedily swallowing the moans flowing out of your mouth as he stretches your cunt on his thick cock. You grab at his shoulders like a lifeline, kissing back with everything you have.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he says through gritted teeth, hands gripping your hips hard enough that you know you’ll be bruised in the morning. “So fucking perfect for me, such a perfect pussy for my cock.”

“Move.” Is all you can manage to squeak out, nails digging into the meat of his shoulders.

Art starts to move, thrusts slow and gentle, like he’s easing you into it. You’re grateful for it, you’ve never taken anyone as big as him. Slowly, his thrusts speed up, cut hips smacking against the fat of your ass a little rougher than before. You revel in it, pushing your ass back greedily for more more more. From this angle, the thick head of his cock drags against your g-spot perfectly every time he plunges back into your dripping cunt.

“Shit! Right there, don’t stop,” you slur breathlessly, feeling the familiar warmth swirling through your stomach as he fucks you.

“I love you.” Art confesses against your lips, his breath hot and erratic. His sweaty forehead pressed to yours as he pounds in and out of you, the motion both relentless and tender. His eyes are wide open now, so blue and so big and so honest as they bore into yours so intensely it’s suffocating.

It’s soon, it’s way too soon. You’ve barely known each other for a couple months, but you can't deny the warmth spreading through your chest, mingling with the heat of the moment, making everything feel both overwhelming and perfect.

Now that you're here, with Art’s cock fitting so perfectly in the wet heat of your cunt, you can’t believe it took you this long. You love Art. You’ve been in love with Art since the first time he spoke to you. Since the first time he touched you like you were the solution to all his problems.

Art must take your stunned silence as rejection, head falling to rest on your shoulder dejectedly, but his hips don’t slow their rhythm. If anything he speeds up, hips thrusting against you desperately.

“Please, please say it back,” he begs, voice thick with emotion, “Say it back, I need to hear you say it. Please,”

You surge up, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as you can, ankles locking together across his back. Art couldn’t pull out of you if he wanted to, judging from the long whine he lets out, he doesn’t mind.

“I love you, Art” You whisper back, barely audible over the lewd slap of his hips stinging your ass. Art groans so loudly you can feel it reverberating off the sensitive skin of your neck.

Hips speeding up even faster, Art turns his head to catch your lips in a searing kiss. This kiss is different than any of the other ones you’ve shared tonight, full of so much emotion and unspoken words. You swear you feel your heart grow three sizes, almost full and threatening to break out of your chest.

“I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna fucking come,” he breathes between kisses. You can only moan in response, right on the brink of your own orgasm. His hips start to lose their rhythm as he chases it, fucking into you faster and harder.

Art’s cock gives a final twitch inside you before his hips are stilling and he’s coming with a broken moan, unloading everything he has into you. You’re right behind him, vision whiting out as you come, thighs shaking where they’re draped around his hips. 

Art collapses onto you, both of you breathing heavily as you come down from the high of your orgasm’s. You lay like that for a while, heaving and sweaty wrapped up in each other's arms. You feel something slot into place, something that you’ve been missing.

Art’s soft voice pierces through the afterglow, “Will you hold me?”

“Yes,” you whisper back, circling your arms around his shoulders.

…

When you wake up hours later you’re beyond thirsty, dehydrated from all the crying, and maybe from the sex. Art’s head is laying across your bare chest, tousled hair tickling your jaw and arms snug around your waist. He looks so peaceful, eyes closed with his long lashes fanning over his cheeks. The sound of his steady breathing is almost enough to lull you right back to sleep. You smile softly, running your hands through his hair slowly. Savoring how at peace he looks, so different from the battered, broken man you met.

You slip out of his arms as carefully as possible, not wanting to wake him. Rolling out of bed to search half-assedly for your clothes in the darkness. You can’t find your shirt, only your underwear and shorts. You notice a red shirt strewn over the dresser next to the bed, illuminated by the moonlight pouring through the blinds. You pick it up without thinking, it's soft in your hands, the fabric thin and worn down. You toss it on before padding out of the bedroom.

You get a little lost in your thoughts as you make your way to the kitchen, Art loves you.

The thought has you biting back a giddy smile. Art loves you and you love him too. It sounds fucking crazy, but you know it’s true. Your life is so completely fucked, you don’t know if you care.

Art loves you.

Your smile doesn’t leave your lips as you turn the corner, arms wrapped around yourself tightly, the warmth of Art's affection lingering like a gentle caress.

“He smiles more.”

The soft voice ringing out from your left makes you stop in your tracks. You turn, and there in the kitchen illuminated by the soft glow of the ceiling light, like an angel, is Tashi Duncan. 

Tashi looks at you from her spot across the room with an impassive look on her face, she’s got your keys in one hand, fiddling with them boredly. When you don't reply she speaks again, "He's playing better, won the last three tournaments he was in." She says casually, setting her half full wine glass down on the island.

You don't need to ask her who "he" is.

You're silent for a few more beats as she stares at you expectantly, silently urging you to say something. You rack your brain for a response, caught like a deer in headlights under Tashi's gaze.

"What?" you softly mutter, words cutting through the air weakly.

Tashi sighs in exasperation, like you're a child who doesn't understand the simple question she's asking. She raises her wine glass back to her lips, draining the rest of it before setting it down once more and making her way over to you.

You know you should flee, make a break for the door before she reaches you. Running away from the woman whose husband you’re fucking - whose husband you just got done fucking, and who told you he loved you - while she pays you seems like the easiest thing to do in the moment, but you don't.

You find yourself glued to the spot as Tashi's commanding presence looms over you, until she's all you can see. Until her expensive smelling perfume is all you can breathe, until she's towering over you, miles of soft skin on display in a classy black nightie.

She stares down at you, her face completely unreadable. It feels like hours as her brown eyes burn into yours, your heart must be beating a thousand beats per second.

When Tashi finally moves, it’s her hand you see rising up in your peripheral vision. At first you think she's going to hit you, get you back for sleeping with her husband, for falling in love with her husband. You tense up, bracing for the slap, it would be the least of what you deserve, but it never comes.

Instead, Tashi's hand finds its way up to the side of your face, cupping your cheek gently. You can feel the chilled metal of her wedding band make contact with your warm skin.

You feel like you might pass out staring into the eyes of Tashi Duncan. Everything you ever wanted in high school flashing rapidly right before your eyes.

If Art Donaldson is the sun, Tashi is the moon. Her light draws you in and keeps you looking at her, and never wanting to look away.

Her thumb slides across your bottom lip, the same lip that’s kissed her husband. Ever so slightly, she pushes the tip of her thumb into your parted lips, far enough to touch your bottom teeth. Your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening in shock, your pulse is fluttering wildly. You distantly wonder if she can feel it on the inside of her wrist.

“I’m his coach, I need to be hard on him or he fails. I refuse to let him fail,” she says softly, tone casual like she’s not brushing the tip of your tongue with her fingers. “But I’m not stupid, I know what he needs. Someone sweet, someone gentle, someone who looks at him and doesn’t see tennis.”

You couldn’t answer her if you wanted to, but you wouldn’t trust yourself to speak anyway. You feel far away and floaty the longer her fingers sit in your mouth, your brain feels like molasses.

“I can’t give him what he needs. I’m not that kind of person,” Tashi says, eyes roaming your face languidly, like she’s window shopping your features. Her voice is nearly a whisper the next time she speaks, “but you are. You could be that for him.”

Your heart drops, the haze surrounding your brain rips away so violently, like someone took a leaf blower to it. Her words make everything start to fall into place, the at home visits, the “exclusive deal”, the weird ass run-ins you’ve had with her over the weeks. 

This was never about the goddamn massages.

For a few seconds you both stay like that. Standing inches away from each other in the half-lit kitchen of her and Art's house. For a second, you think you can see the tiniest smile playing on her lips before she drops her hand from you completely.

"There’s a car waiting for you outside,” she says, still close enough that you can feel her breath fan over your face, “See you next Thursday."

Tashi turns on her heels and leaves you alone, disappearing down the long hallway leading to her and Art's bedroom. You watch the whole time she goes, until she completely fades into the shadows. Your lip still tingling from her touch.

There’s only one thing on your mind as you incredulously stare down the now empty hall…

These people are so fucking weird.

[zevrra]

JJK.2—

synopsis: just some very nsfw hc’s for the men of jjk >:3

tags: 18(+) only!, MDNI, nsfw, highly suggestive content, dirty talk, mention of kinks, fem!reader, nanami kento, choso kamo, geto suguru, gojo satoru, toji fushiguro

𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 !!

pussy eater!!!

definitely the type to only think about pleasuring you

will eat you out for houuuuurs

ride his face, he begs for it

is sooo into roleplay (loves to rp a professor and college student of AGE!!!)

worships you

will make you cum at least a few times before he ever does

but i totally imagine him being a service (soft) top until he goes into “overtime” and then he’s a dom

dom nanami loves pulling your hair

calls you a brat/toy when you beg him for it

will stuff his tie in your mouth to keep you quiet

surprisingly is into public or open spaces

loves the thrill of fucking you outside cause he knows you struggle to hold your voice back

breeding kink go brrr

is all about praising and making sure you know you’re doing a good job

“fuck you’re taking me so well.” “good girl.” “look at how pretty you look fucking yourself on my cock.”

he’s really thick, has an upwards curve, 7” long

𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 !!

is a virgin until he meets you

doesn’t stop him from trying everything you suggest because he wants to please you

loves loves loves blowjobs

cums very easily though

a hot make out session mixed with some heavy grinding and/or groping and he could easily cum in his pants

is a bottom for the first few years you’re together before he becomes a switch!

easily begs you for everything

“please please please” AAAAAH

when he tops, he’s softer than most would assume

constantly checks up on you to make sure you’re ok as he fucks you senseless

“is this good?” he asks as he has you cumming for the 3rd time

takes a little pride in his accuracy to make you reach your climax especially since he’s not use to sex

once he discovers rope/bondage he reallyyyy enjoys it

loves biting! likes to see the marks he’s made on you the next day

has a thicker head, red, and is 6.5”

𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 !!

dom dom dom dom

of course knows your limits and is very encouraging about using your safe-word when things get to be too much

is sooooo into controlling your vibrator when out in public cause he loves watching your reactions as you try your best not to make a face

expect to be spanked later if you cum before he tells you too

switches between praising you and degrading you

“you’re such a good girl” to “pathetic, you can’t even take me all”

loves forcing you to deep throat him when he ties your hands up

edging KING! like edges you for hours by fingering you while you suck him off

will only fuck you after you’ve been really good and when he does oh god

he’s rough, fast, hitting your deepest spots after your body has become a sensitive mess after all the edging

AFTERCAAAAAARE!!!!! he only ever is rough solely so he can take care of you after all of it

bathes you, massages your entire body, makes you food, brings you plenty of water !!

he’s a little on a thin side, veiny, and 8”

𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 !!

a switch idc!!

he’s all tough on the outside but some days he just wants to give you all the control

let’s you fuck him!!!

a horny mess omg wants to fuck all the time! only bc he just loves having sex with you

does it anywhere and everywhere

really likes to fuck in the car or on top of tables/desks/counters

has the biggest creampie kink

probably eats you out after he’s finished inside of you too

buys you expensive ass lingerie all the time

loves to use his blindfold on you

when he’s in the mood to top, he’s all talk. constant yapping in your ear

“you’re so cute” “fuck i can feel you cumming” “you’re soaking wet are you gonna squirt?”

his fav position is either cowgirl or doggy

when he’s in the mood to bottom, he’s so needy and whiny!!!

“please let me cum” “more i need you more” “fuck me please god, please”

loves to be overstimulated when he lets you take control

like geto, he’s thinner until the base where he thickens up, veiny, 8”

𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 !!

bareback only!!

also has a breeding kink and his fav position is def mating press

but also really enjoys reverse cowgirl when he just gets to sit back and watch you fuck yourself on his cock

degrades you in the most positive way

“you’re a good little slut aren’t you?” “my whore” “you’re only good for taking my cock huh”

will spit in your mouth

has no shame, can and will ask you to blow him at any moment or finger you any time he wants

loves fucking you before he knows you’ve got to leave the house

likes the thought of you being all sticky and struggling to walk with his cum inside of you

is not super noisy but will grunt/groan when he’s feeling good

only time he ever really moans is when he’s cumming

has too much stamina and will make you cum several times before he ever cums once

likes to at least cum twice, once in your mouth and the second inside of you, but if you’re able to take him some more, he can def go way more than twice

will only eat you out if your thighs are crushing his head

is 100% an ass man

has it all!! thick & girthy, overall he’s just huge, red/flushed tip, and is at least 9”

[redr0sewrites]

NNN with the ACOTAR men

🥀A/n: surprise...! sorry for not writing for a MONTH ive been doing this. whoops.

🥀Cw: smut, nsfw, vague description of genitals, switch!reader. teasing

🥀Character(s): Eris Vanserra, Lucien Vanserra, Cassian, Rhysand, Azriel x reader (seperate)

🥀divider: @chachachannah <3

🥀minors dni

Eris Vanserra:

Eris is,,,, lukewarm to the idea to say the least. why on earth would he want to not fuck you for a whole month?

probably takes a lot of pleading to get him to agree ngl, but once he does agree..... HE IS MAKING IT

definitely lasts the whole month, no questions asked

there is no way his resolve is breaking im sorry i just dont see it. no matter how hard you tease him, Eris' only response is a noncommittal "hmm," and a devilish smirk.

he's definitely giving you a taste of your own medicine too- be prepared for teasing from HIM

he'd sneak up behind you and grab your waist, whispering filthy words in your ear about what exactly he's planning to do the minute the month is over... only to pull away and "tut" smugly

he's going to be soo mean if you give up, especially if you challenged him. the teasing is fifteen times worse, and on top of that he's STILL abstaining because even if you're not making it... hes seeing this through!

hes a lovable asshole about it.

"aw, can't even go a whole month without me?"

i feel like towards the end of the month, he'd get irritable and pent up. he has a high-stress life after all, and not getting any release on his frustration can take its toll. Eris would never take it out on you, but expect him to be a little more curt and snippy than usual

once the month is done though? be PREPARED. Eris is a lot more rough and intense when he's pent up, and would be adamant about making up on lost time. you're probably not leaving your shared bedroom for AT LEAST three days. even when you both aren't fucking, he's pressing kisses up and down your body and memorizing everything he didn't get to see throughout the month

i also see him being a lot more passionate at the end of the month. he won't admit it, but he missed getting to fuck you

overall, he'd last, but he would not like it and would make it up to you

"missed me, huh?" Eris coos, sinking into your aching hole. his skin is warm, almosst burning against your own as his tip just kisses that sensitive spot inside you, providing a tantalizing sensation of pleasure.

"f'course i did," you murmur, tightening your legs around his waist. your sat in his lap, completely bare, and his hands travel to cup at your chest.

"oh really?" Eris' gaze is calculating as he presses a nipple between two lithe fingers, rolling the sensitive bud and watching you squirm. "then why did you make me wait so long, darling?"

"mnh- 'was just a game..." you whine, nuzzling into the crook of his neck as Eris slowly begins to thrust in and out. you clench around him tightly with every roll of his hips, and his free hand begins to rub your clit/cock.

"just a game? well, why don't we play a game, hm? lets see how many times i can make you cum," Eris purrs, and you nod fervently. his eyed narrow, and he paused in his ministrations.

"use your words."

you arch your back, pleading for his touch again. "please make me cum, Er..." Eris chuckles at your obedience, before returning to stroking you, increasing his pace as he did so. "whatever my darling mate desires~"

Lucien Vanserra:

Lucien would not like the idea- he'd miss you too much, and i also feel like he has a pretty high libido in and of itself

he'd do it to make you happy, but i really don't see him lasting. Lucien would make it halfway through the month MAX. you tease him once and he folds- he's very whipped for u !!!

probably lasts at least 2 weeks, but after that he really doesn't pay much mind to it

sooooo fun to tease, in my mind he's the type to be unabashedly in LOVE with his partner and isn't afraid of acting flustered when you catch him off guard. he loves seeing you in lingerie and it's probably one of the easiest things you can do to get him to give in

i also can see him teasing you too- he's very flirtatious in nature, and if he wants you, he's pulling all the stops to see if he can make you break- ESPECIALLY if he gives up and you continue trying and to last the whole month

if you don't tease him throughout the month or give him reason to give up, i think that Lucien may have a sliiightly higher chance of making it through the month- but its still not guaranteed. like i said, he has a high libido and even if he doesnt fuck you he'll probably still end up masturbating

when it comes to the end of the month be PREPARED- he is absolutely waking you up at 12:01 because he "wants you so bad". its hard to say no to him when he's being all sweet and compliant, but know that it won't last bc he will very soon turn into a MENACE. if you can still walk, then he's not done

"you're simply divine," Lucien murmurs, almost worshipful as his lips trail up your navel. with each rise and fall of your chest, his sinful mouth travels higher and higher, kissing and sucking over marks he had left from previous rounds in a wanton mix of lust and love. his eyes never leave yours, his gaze reverent and his mechanical eye whirring as he takes you in, observing you as though you might disappear.

"perfect," he whispers breathlessly, crawling above your nude form and supporting himself with a strong arm on either side of your head. your lips meet in a sickeningly sweet kiss, and he rolls his hips tantalizingly against yours.

"mngh- jus' came!" you whine, and Lucien chuckles breathlessly against your lips.

"you can give me one more, hm?"

Rhysand:

i think Rhysand is a bit of a wild card, i think he would be into the idea at first, as he loves a good competition, but after realizing what it fully entails, he'd be pouty about not getting to sleep with you for a whole month. like, do you even love him anymore???

he'd probably make it to at least 3 weeks -> the end of the month

in all seriousness though, i think whether or not he makes it depends on how much you want to make it- if you don't tease him or don't try too hard, then i can see him making it with ease, but if you turn him on? ohhh he's not letting you go without making you both lose.

i see Rhys as kind of a hornball, genuinely it doesn't take much to turn him on, but it's whether or not you do it intentionally that really gets him going. like seeing down the front of your chest on accident? sure, he's horny, but he'll get over it. you intentionally bend down in front of him in a loose shirt, or flash him as a joke? ohhh he needs you now.

PETTIEST TEASE !!!!! you think you can get away with teasing him with no repercussions? think again, because he'll make you come running to HIMMM- he's sending you nudes through the mating bond randomly throughout the day, he's flashing you, he'll wear lingerie under his suit and tell you about it inconspicuously, stuff like that

Rhys is also quite touchy, i genuinely see him being like. clingy. especially when he misses you. what he can't have in sexual intimacy throughout the month, he makes up for in physical intimacy as he is practically almost ALWAYS at your side, and demands a lot more of your attention than usual. not in a bad way, he just loves when you focus on him

when the month is over, he's actually turning into a FREAK. instead of waking you up, he invades your dream, filling it with his own dirty desires so that you wake up aaallll hot n bothered. then and only then does he give in to his own lust and fuck you senseless

you awake with a gasp, feeling a sticky heat between your legs. your cheeks flush as memories of your more than pleasant dream fill your mind, clueing you in to the reason behind your own arousal.

"i see someone had a good dream," a sensual voice purrs in your ear, and you whip around to face the violet-eyed speaker.

"this is your fault, Rhys. i know your behind that.. dream." you grumble, and he lets out a velvety laugh.

"oh, but you'll never prove it~" he teases, but your having none of it. you waste no time in pushing him down against the bed, moving to straddle him and grinding down hard.

"s-someones being forward tonight," Rhysand hisses, hips jolting upwards to meet your impatient humping.

"hah- f'course i am, its been a, a month! i swear, if you don't shut up and fuck me Rhysand i will-" your cut off with a yelp as strong arms find purchase on your waist, flipping you over so that your pinned down beneath your lover.

"be careful what you wish for, darling."

Cassian:

loves the idea of NNN in theory... hates it in execution. Cassian is probably more overconfident in his abilities to abstain from sex than he is actually capable of in reality, so he goes into NNN ready to face it head on- only to CRUMBLE by week two because he just needs to cum.

lasts 2.5 weeks TOPS.

Cassian is always packing some sort of heat, his dick is big big, and he swears he's never noticed it until now. literally everything you do gives him a ridiculous hard on- it's almost embarrassing. its a phenomenon, the more he can't have you, the more he wants you!

Cassian could probably withstand torture, but can't withstand your teasing. just a few lustful innuendos and giving him a look and he's down on his knees practically begging you to let him fuck you, just the tip, he promises he won't even cum.... (lies)

can not take teasing, but he's pretty good at teasing you- although not subtly. not subtly at all. comes up behind you and grabs your hips with two big hands, pressing his boner against your ass like,,,, hey. whispers absolute filth into your ear until he's borderline humping you, and is so caught up in the moment that he can't focus on anything (or anyone) other than you if you don't give in then your better than me fr

at the end of the month Cassian is practically in heat, he's nearly drooling with need as he shakes you awake, ready to beg politely ask you to just fuck him already...

rough hands gently cup your face, and scratchy stubble tickles your cheeks as your lover plants kisses all across your face.

"babe," Cassian murmurs, "its december." you hum, shifting slowly into the realm of consciousness and turning to look at him.

"and?" you tease, feigning innocence as Cassian pouts. "oh, fuck you," he grumbles, nuzzling his head into your neck, and you giggle.

"aw, the big strong illyrian warrior can't last a month without me?"

"f'course i can't. it's you, afterall." you feel Cassian's grin against your neck, and hum thoughtfully. one of your hands trails to his wings, rubbing gently over the sensitive membrane. Cassian lets out a strangled moan, rolling his hips desperately as he begins to grind on your thigh.

"fffuck, hun, jus' like that," he slurs, shuddering as you continue stroking is wings. "you're so perfect f'me," he mumbles, increasing his pace.

"cum for me, Cassian," you mumble, pressing a kiss to his temple and feeling his breath shudder against your neck. suddenly, he pauses his motions, gently pulling your hand from his twitching wings.

"hngh- hah, not yet- wanna be inside you first."

Azriel:

i don't think Azriel would care too heavily about NNN, if you were into it he'd do it but he doesn't feel too strongly about it- however, he is quite competitive, and will take it seriously if you challenge him

Azriel is making it through the month no questions asked. i simply can not see him giving in- he loves you dearly, but nothing will stop him from winning

honestly, your probably more at risk of giving in then him- he's teasing you worse than anything you could ever do to him, only to pull away last minute and watch you squirm with arousal. you're also NOT getting away with teasing Azriel because he WILL get you back ten times worse, that is a promise

you "accidentally" brush over his crotch? what a shame, he's "accidentally" grinding on you. you moan in his ear? he's dirty talking to you in front of your entire friend group. you wear something provocative? he will take his shirt off in front of you. he WILL get you back, and it will be worse than anything u give to him

at this point he's just downright Evil with his teasing- like he's coming into YOUR room, kissing you senseless until your all hot n bothered, and then just leaving!!! Evil!!!!!

definitelt tries to piss you off and get you needy just because he thinks it's attractive- the hornier you are the happier he is !

when the month is over, he's merciless. probably edges you and then overstimulates you for LITERAL hours, still teasing you and trying to piss you off solely because he can. however, he does reach his breaking point eventually, and when he does i DOUBT you will be walking for 2-5 business days because he will be ROUGH

the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as the scent of sex invaded your senses. your own pleasured moans drown out the sound of Azriel's cock squelching in and out of your aching hole with each thrust, his breath hot and heavy on your neck. large, scarred hands find purchase on your hips, and your thighs tremble as he forces you deeper into a mating press. he holds your gaze as one hand begins to toy with your clit/cock, his calculated motions bringing you to the edge yet again.

"uh-huh, y'like that?" Azriel smirks, watching as you writhe and moan. "y'wanna cum this time baby?"

"p-please! please Az, 'm so close," your voice is cracked and embarrassingly whiny, your hips rolling against his with every thrust.

"patience, baby," he murmurs, pressing feather light kisses to the soft skin of your neck.

"you'll get your turn. i've waited a whole month, you'll let me have my fun, hm?"

[archangeldyke-all]

riding plug sev in her car 😍😍🫠

PLEASE listen to this song it's sooooo plug sevika coded omg...

men and minors dni

"shit, it's pouring." sevika curses.

you're driving home from a late night movie, and the drizzle that started as you left the theater is now a torrential downpour.

"might be safest to just pull over and park until the storm rolls over, babe." you suggest.

sevika nods and throws her blinker on, pulling into a nearby park.

for a few minutes, the two of you sit, waiting for the rain to slow. but, after a while, it becomes clear that the storm's got nowhere to be.

you don't mind. the pair of you have nowhere to be either.

sevika sighs as she reclines in her seat, wordlessly pulling open her center console to grab a pre-roll-- always looking for a minute to slow down and smoke with you.

you giggle, flicking the headlights and wipers off, turning the radio up a bit, then holding your hands around the lighter to keep the a/c from blowing the joint out as your girl lights it.

"did you like the movie?" you ask with a fond smile.

sevika grins around the joint.

it was some obscure sci-fi flick, you had no idea what was going on half the time, but sevika had read the books that went along with the movie earlier in the year, and she'd been talking non-stop about it since. you spent most of the movie just watching your girlfriend wiggle in her seat as she nerded out.

"it was amazing. the casting choices were ridiculous, but the soundtrack was incredible, and the special effects were amazing! the scene where commander gorzo gets infected with the virus was so gory and nasty-- that black goo they used was just like in the book, it was perfect!"

you smile. "you're fucking adorable."

sevika blushes, hands you the joint, and tries to hide her pretty smile behind her hand.

you laugh and take a hit, before unbuckling your seat belt and reaching across the console to grab her shoulder. "take this." you say, handing her the joint.

sevika puts the joint in her mouth, takes a long hit, and then chokes in surprise when you crawl into her lap, straddling her legs.

"wha?" she asks through a cough.

you smile, let her catch her breath, then lean forward and press your mouth to hers. sevika melts into her seat and her free hand reaches out to wrap around your waist.

you pull away to gasp for air, and sevika blinks up at you with big, sparkly eyes. "what was that for?" she asks, her thumb sliding under your shirt to rub circles in your hips. you giggle.

"it's really cute seeing you be all nerdy. i was so convinced you were all cool and suave all the time-- but now i know better." you tease. sevika huffs and leans forward to bury her face in your tits.

"shut up."

"no, babe, i love it. i love you. love that i get to see you all sweet and excited."

sevika doesn't respond. she just reaches up and pushes the joint into your mouth to get you to shut up. you giggle, scratching her scalp where her head rests against your chest.

for a few minutes, you just cuddle like that, passing the joint back and forth and becoming more and more relaxed as the weed, the sound of the rain, and the low music on the radio lull you and sevika into a hazy state of relaxation.

then, sevika bursts into giggles.

"what?" you ask. sevika just continues to laugh, grinning up at you. "what's so funny, baby?"

"i just remembered..." she leans forward a bit, her grip on your waist tightening to keep you upright as she fumbles around in the glove box.

"what're you looking for? snacks?"

"this." sevika cackles as she hands you her treasure. you burst into laughter when sevika shows you the little silky pouch that you use to store your dildos when you're traveling.

"when'd you stash this in here?!" you ask, opening the bag with a snort and pulling out the harness and cock.

"few weeks ago." she says with a giggle.

"you're a genius." you laugh, kissing sevika's cheek.

it takes a while for the two of you to untangle enough for sevika to get the harness on, constant giggle fits breaking out between the pair of you, but eventually you figure it out, hiking your skirt up and sliding your panties to the side before you sink down on sevika.

you both sigh in relief as you adjust to the stretch of her. sevika's kissing up and down your neck, fiddling with your bra clasps under your shirt as she patiently waits for you. "you feel so good." sevika sighs.

you chuckle. "not as good as you." you sigh. sevika snorts, smacks your ass, then reaches into the center console again, pulling out another joint. you burst into giggles.

"go ahead 'n ride me baby, i'm just gonna smoke and enjoy the view." sevika sighs as she sits back in her seat, sparking up.

fuck, there's the cool sevika you were talking about earlier. her eyes are dark and predatory as she waits for you to follow her instructions, and you shiver as you start to grind slowly on her lap.

"there you go, baby." she sighs, smiling. "fuck, take your shirt off i wanna see your tits." you scramble to follow her directions, flinging your shirt into the back seat and your bra on the dashboard. sevika groans when you're revealed to her, the cherry of her joint illuminating you in a red-gold glow.

she reaches out with her free hand to pinch your nipples and you huff, smacking her hands away. she smirks. "adorable."

"sevika." you moan as you start to pick your pace up a bit, bouncing on her lap. she holds the joint to your lips, lets you take a quick hit before pulling it away.

"there you go, love. just feel good for me. love watchin' you like this-- fuck, you're so pretty when you're stuffed full'a my cock." she sighs.

you duck forward and press your lips to sevika's in a sloppy kiss, shutting her up before her words make you cum two minutes into getting her inside of you. it's a sticky, drooly mess-- your lip gloss and spit making sevika's chin shiny whne you pull away.

her eyes cross a bit as she watches a string of spit stretch between your lower lips, and she claws at your ass when it finally breaks and lands on your tits. "you're so fuckin' hot." sevika growls, ducking forward to start sucking a hickey into your throat. she's abandoned the joint, letting it smoke out in the cupholder beside her. "can't believe you're mine. 'm so fuckin' lucky-- can't believe you watched that whole movie with me babe, it was like four hours." sevika chuckles.

you giggle and tug her hair. "i'd do a whole lot more for you, baby." you say. sevika shivers, and you tug her hair a little more. "y'know that right?"

"fuck, yes." sev whines against your throat. "fuck. you're soaking my pants, baby, look." sevika grabs your wrist and drags your hand down to her pants, where you're soaking the base of her cock and the fabric beneath it. you whimper.

"s-sorry."

"don't be fuckin' sorry, i love it. wish i could wear your cum in public, baby-- show everybody you're mine all the time."

you gasp, your thighs starting to shake. sevika takes over for you, both her hands on your ass, pulling you up and down on her cock.

the squelching noise of your cunt starts to drown out the rain and music, your squeaks and moans getting louder and louder as sevika sinks further down in her seat, props one foot up on the dash, and starts fucking into you from underneath you.

"sevika!" you scream. "sevika, shit, there, baby, there!" you cry.

"fuck, baby, cum on my dick, give it to me, baby, give it to me." she spits on two of her fingers and starts rubbing your clit in harsh little circles as you start to fall apart on top of her.

"se-sevika!" you cry. "i'm gonna--"

"fucking cum." sevika growls as you squirt on her dick, soaking her lap completely. "fuck, baby, just like that, there you go baby, my perfect fuckin' girl--"

"s-sev." you sob.

sevika pulls you forward with a hand on your jaw, shoving her tongue down your throat as you gasp for air. "fuckin' love you." she whispers against your lips. "love you so much, baby, fuck, you taste like strawberries."

this makes you giggle. "'s my lipgloss."

"fuckin' love it. bet your pussy tastes like strawberries too. gonna let me try?" she asks, smacking your ass. you laugh.

"maybe when we get home."

"mmm. but it's still raining and we won't be home forever..." sevika pouts. you just reach out blindly for the joint in the cupholder, shoving it in your girlfriend's chest as you try to catch your breath.

"fuckin'-- suck on this for now." you sigh.

sevika laughs so hard she snorts.

taglist!

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