#THERMA LIFT

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Aqua Thermae

Also on AO3

Mini-Series Masterlist

Pairing: Lucius Verus Aurelius x Fem!Reader

WC: 2.3k words

Summary: After a particularly great victory in the arena, Lucius is rewarded with both a visit to a bathhouse and you -- a high-ranking courtesan -- to keep him company.

Warnings: SMUT (minors DNI this fic is 18+), reader is a courtesan (so SW), mentions of violence, shenanigans in and out of water, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, maybe some historical inaccuracies? forgive my sins please, and I thinkkk that's it but lmk if anything else!

-----------

It had been a very long time since he’d been somewhere so luxurious. One of Rome’s finest bathhouses brought echoes of a comfortable life long past in the emperor’s palace. The marble pillars and fine mosaic floors, the detailed frescoes on the walls, and a large thermal pool all for himself.

Then other flashes of memory came to him – his mother’s kindness, his father’s armor, his uncle Comodus’ booming voice, and the cross of their swords…

He shucked his heavy breastplate and immediately felt the steam on his already sweat-slick skin. He let out a long sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. If only memories were so easy to get rid of, he might not always feel so tormented.

Lavishness was not something he had ever actively sought out, even if he was entitled to it as the direct descendant to the throne, but it was strange to think he was once accustomed to it. So much had happened since his forced departure, like a hundred lives melding into one.

Now, after a long, grueling fight with a mighty rhinoceros and its fierce rider, he wanted nothing more than to luxuriate in the warm water until his head swam and his muscles no longer ached so badly.

But then he noticed you standing on one side of the pool, a carafe of wine and a platter of dates, cheese, and nuts waiting on a low table next to you. You smiled as your eyes locked and Lucius’ back immediately straightened. Not much took him by surprise anymore, but this certainly had.

“Who are you?” He asked, curious rather than irritated at your presence.

You inclined your head genially. “You may call me whatever you like.”

He huffed in amusement, giving you a once-over. “Very well, then. And who sent you here?”

“Macrinus wanted nothing but the best company for you, his champion,” you said, serving him some wine. “I am to be your prize, along with this bath.”

His eyebrows lifted infinitesimally and he looked away in an almost bashful manner. His profile was proud and handsome, kissed by the sun and the strikes of his opponents. He had the face of a hero history would always remember – Or at least you would, certainly.

He was hesitant at first, unsure if he could trust anything that came from Macrinus. But as he took another look at you, your allure was too great for him not to be stirred. He could tread carefully, but he didn’t really want to deny himself pleasure, however fleeting it may be.

“I take it your company is quite coveted around here?” He asked, approaching to accept the wine you offered.

You nodded in response, fingertips barely brushing his as he took the glass. He held your gaze as he took a sip and you almost lost yourself in the infinite blue of his eyes. 

“By the likes of who?” He asked.

“Fierce gladiators such as yourself,” you said pointedly, unable to help your wandering eyes from finding the rippling muscles of his chest. “Merchants. Senators. Even emperor Geta has had his fill of me, but Caracalla was content with just watching.”

“Let us not speak of them now,” he said, shaking his head and grimacing at the names of the bloodthirsty twin emperors. “Within these walls, it is just the two of us. Nothing more.”

You nodded in understanding as he set down his glass on the table. “Would you like me to help you finish undressing?”

“I can manage,” he said, but now his eyes roamed appreciatively over your form, barely covered by a nearly see-through shift. “But I should like to help you, so you may join me.”

“How very kind of you,” you grinned, a salacious edge to your tone. 

He stepped even closer, reaching to unclasp the bronze brooch at your shoulder. The shift fell in a puddle of fabric at your feet, your body completely bare underneath. He let out a small, shuddering breath, fingers lightly tracing one of your clavicles.

For a moment, his expression was clouded as something crossed his mind. He stared off into the middle distance, but before he could really lose himself, you decided to intervene. You pulled him in, one hand cupping the back of his head as you went on your tiptoes and brought your lips close to his ear.

“Whatever you’d like to forget, I should really like to help you,” you whispered.

“Everything,” he rasped, one callused hand grasping your hip, while the other gently tilted your head to one side so your lips would meet his.

You tasted the sweet wine on his tongue and breathed him in. He smelled of the arena — blood and sand and sweat. It was not unfamiliar to you, but it was heady coming off of him, fueling your growing desire. 

Deftly, he managed to reach between your bodies to undo his pteruges and the loincloth underneath, both joining your shift on the floor. You felt the hardness of his own want against your lower abdomen, but he made no move to hasten things along. 

“Come now, let us wash the day off of you,” you said softly, pulling away to guide him into the water.

You waited by the edge for him to submerge himself first, watching the way his muscles worked as he walked. He had the grace of a warrior, as if poised for attack at any moment. You almost shudder at his deep groan of contentment, leaning back against the edge. Sliding closer, you massaged his broad shoulders to try and relieve some of his tension. His hand found your calf, caressing it. 

He closed his eyes and let himself be pampered, your touch transporting him far away, beyond even the shores of Ostia. He thought of your luminous eyes, the honeyed taste of your lips, and the smell of rose oil on your skin… What lovely comfort you offered. He wanted more of you and he suspected he would still not have enough.

If winning meant earning moments like this, with you, then he would never let himself be defeated in the arena. Or elsewhere, for that matter.

“My very own Venus Pompeiana,” he said softly, turning around so he could slot his body between your legs and face you. “The Gods seem to be favoring me greatly today.”

You cupped his face tenderly. “Something tells me they will continue to do so, too.”

He grinned, eyes heavy-lidded as they dropped to your lips. “Tell me, did you emerge from the seafoam, too?”

You laughed, delighted at his words. “Yes, I am salt, and brine, and pearls made flesh.”

His strong arms enveloped you, pulling you into the water with him. His lips found yours again and your legs wrapped around his hips, anchoring yourself to him. He submerged both of you for a moment and you chuckled against his lips when you resurfaced.

He kissed you like he might never be able to do so again — like a desperate lover forced to say goodbye before sailing off to war. Your fingers threaded through his damp curls, his beard tickling the lower half of your face. Your head swam and you wished you could spend an eternity there, in that moment.

You let his hands wander a little, getting bolder by the minute, but then you pulled away and playfully swam away from him. A safe distance away, you splashed some water at him, inciting him to give chase. 

He swam after you unhurriedly, his head low in the water so that you mostly saw his eyes. You could tell he was smiling from the way they creased at the corners, and you felt a thrill low in your spine as he drew closer. It reminded you of a crocodile pursuing its prey, biding its time before the right moment came along. 

A nervous giggle escaped you as you backed away, even daring to splash more water in his direction. He slipped under the water and for a delirious moment of uncertainty, you thought your heart might leap out of your chest. You searched for any sign of him, but the water was cloudy and concealed him well.

Suddenly, you felt the graze of teeth on your hip and you cried out, startled. Lucius re-emerged, shaking water from his hair and cornering you against the edge of the pool.

“Got you now,” he rasped, pressing you against him and bending to kiss your throat.

“Mercy,” you gasped, smiling wide as you amiably submitted to his attention. “Oh, please have mercy.”

He lifted your hips further so that his cock rested against your folds. You tried to move against him as best as the angle would allow and he helped guide you with one hand on your hip. 

“Mercy?” he said against your jaw, the deep timbre of his voice like music to your ears. “You see how you’ve got me? I’ve not had any mercy from you.”

You grinned slyly. “You thought I’d yield so easily?”

He hummed, pretending to think about it. “Never crossed my mind.”

“Actually, you make it very hard not to, as much as I like to play,” you conceded, biting your lip.

He chuckled, sucking in a breath through his teeth as he fought the urge to slip inside you and claim you for himself. But not yet, of course, as he wanted to play with you a little while longer too. 

“Shall we put you to the test?”

He lifted you out of the water and sat you back on the edge. With one broad palm on your sternum, he gently pushed you backward. Instinctively, your legs hiked up, but you let him be the one to spread them.

He let out a low groan at the sight, his gaze incandescent as it met yours. He kissed your calf, then the inside of your knee, and steadily progressed up your inner thigh as he propped himself half out of the water.

Your hips shifted as he got close to his target, but then he moved to your other leg, repeating the same torturously slow process. You propped up on your elbows to give him a slightly annoyed look and he grinned cheekily.

“How’s that for mercy?” He asked, but before you could respond, his head dipped and his tongue finally found where you were aching.

A breathy Oh escaped you as your back arched, fingers digging into his curls once more. He was just as skilled with his mouth as with a blade, easily finding the tenderest, most sensitive spots. He had you squirming on the tiled floors, the tip of his tongue tracing circular patterns on your clit.

“Gods,” he moaned, the taste of you only making him hungrier and greedier for more.

You tried to grind against his face, chasing the waves of pleasure that already crested over you. His beard added just enough friction to create another layer of stimulation, and soon enough, your eyes were searching for constellations at the back of your skull.

“Lucius, oh, Lucius,” you panted. “You’re gonna make me– Ah!”

He felt triumphant at your trembling under him, more honey flowing from you and onto his tongue. You made soft, almost pleading sounds, holding onto his head as if to anchor yourself. He groaned, prolonging your pleasure for as long as you both could stand it. His blood felt near boiling and yet the only cure for it was you. 

Ravenous and near feral, he pulled himself out of the water and crawled over you. Finally – mercifully – he slid into you with ease, going slow and deep at first so you could adjust to him. He watched your reactions closely, feeling himself twitch inside of you — so warm and soft and perfect for him.

But that wasn't the only way he wanted to have you, and every time either of you grew closer to the edge, he changed positions. His stamina was astounding, especially considering he had been fighting for his life only a few hours earlier.

It wasn’t until you were on top of him, his hands aiding the gyrations of your hips, that you could get revenge for all his teasing. You set the pace, finding an angle where you could grind your clit against his pelvis with each move. His eyes roamed over you reverently, like you were the true goddess of love, and he was your subject worshipping at your temple. Sweat slick skin, the bounce of your breasts, your bared throat as you tilted your head backward in ecstasy… He found divinity in all of this.

His self-composure began to dissolve as his grip on you tightened. His brows furrowed and his mouth was slack, his moans spilling out wantonly. He was beautiful, so truly beautiful.

“Don’t stop,” he groaned, his hips positioning upwards to meet your movements. 

As you happily complied, leaning forward to kiss him, he lifted his torso to meet you halfway. He cupped the back of your head as his body tensed, spilling his seed inside you hotly. You came harder than before, your cunt squeezing him tightly in time with the twitching of his cock. 

Spent, you collapsed on his chest, the two of you sharing a laugh, high on endorphins. He wiped a stray strand of hair from your forehead with even more tenderness than you thought you’d ever experienced. He felt like the most fortunate man in the world, having found something so good in a place as hostile as Rome. He wouldn’t let you go so easily. 

“Come to the next games,” he said softly before he could really think about it.

You hesitated. As much as you’d love to see him in action, you didn’t think you could bear to see him get hurt… Or worse. 

“You want me to watch you fight?” You asked, trying to keep the fear away from your expression. 

“I want you to see me win,” he said without a shred of doubt. “That way, you can be sure that no man can stop me from claiming my reward right after.”

You shuddered, biting down a giddy grin. “I’ll be there for you to find me, my champion.”

--------------------

[seven-seas-of-rhye-bread]

Ahh... Lucius Verus x F!OC

Sorry for the lame title, but my brain is exhausted from writing this fic.

This was inspired by that scene in the beginning of the movie when he's sitting in that bath-- it was so rude that it only lasted a minute!!

Warning: Pure smut ahead, 18+, minors DNI please!!

Disclaimer: I am but a dreamy horny bitch, this is not historically accurate besides what I could google ( and I only read the top result, so who knows how accurate). I am here for a GOOD time not an ACCURATE time.

P.S. sorry it ends abruptly, I'm chronically bad at endings, weee.....

P.P.S-- only lightly proof read, my b

xx

Cassia stood over the amphora straining the oil from the herbs and flowers it had been stewing with. An intoxicating bloom of iris, myrrh and cinnamon floated up from the mixture and she inhaled deeply. She might be a lowly servant at Rome's most exclusive thermae, but whenever she strained the oil Cassia liked to think she smelled like an empress. 

Alba, another thermae servant, opened the door and peered around it.

"Cassia? You're needed." 

"I'm needed?" She asked, confusion clouding her face. She was never needed-- there were plenty of servants, why would someone need her specifically? Unless-- oh. It was him. The champion gladiator, Hanno. Her heart quickened, remembering the last time he was there. 

It was after his first victory, he was treated to the best private caldarium in the baths. When she first laid eyes on Hanno he was standing in the middle of the room, facing the bath beyond him, the steam rising from the hot water. He was still dressed for battle, and his shoulders rose and fell with quick breaths as if he was still fighting. Cassia was silent as she made her way into the room, as servants were only to serve and not to speak unless spoken to. As she reached up to undo his armor, Hanno snatched her wrist and turned towards her. His eyes were wild with rage and confusion. Cassia wanted to cry out in pain, his grip was more than strong, but she remained silent, afraid someone would hear. 

In a moment he realized where he was-- that he was not in the coliseum and she was not another gladiator intent on killing him. Hanno's eyes softened with concern and fear as he let go of her wrist and saw the red imprint that would soon bruise. 

"I--I'm so sorry. I didn't mean--" his words trailed off as his hand fell back by his side. 

"It's alright." she assured him with a quiet and calm voice, though her wrist ached already.

"Is it okay if I..." Cassia started to reach up to his armor again. Hanno nodded and turned back to face the pool. She was careful with him, noting the way he winced as she raised up his arms and took off the heavy chest plate. She averted her eyes to the side as she removed his belt and loin cloth, before kneeling to remove his shin guards. 

Cassia stepped back, putting his armor and cloth aside. Hanno stepped cautiously, painfully down the stone steps into the water. He hissed as he fully submerged himself in the cerulean water, a trail of blood leading from the wound on his shoulder. 

Cassia blushed when Hanno let out a satisfied, relaxed moan as he sat back against the side of the pool. She had done this time and time again when there were games happening at the Coliseum, but she had never felt bashful like this before. She stood quietly in the corner-- her eyes fixed on the mosaic floors. 

After a long moment Hanno spoke, "what's your name?" 

"Cassia" she answered quietly, her eyes lifting to meet his. 

"Cassia..." he repeated, his eyes looking heavy, now that he was relaxed. He winced when he reached up to his hair that was matted with sweat, dirt and blood. 

She went over to the  edge of the bath, taking a small amphora from the bathing kit, filling it up in the pool and pouring it over his head. A small moan escaped Hanno's lips causing a flush to creep up Cassia's face. He was sitting at an awkward angle from her so she pulled him closer to her and poured more water over him, massaging the grime from his hair. Cassia took a small palmful of clay shampoo, and worked it into his hair. His head was lofty in her care, lolling around in the sublime comfort of being bathed. 

After his hair was clean, she positioned Hanno's head back to rest on a rolled towel and took a wet cloth wiping it gently at the blood and dirt caked on his face. She thought he had fallen asleep, but then his eyes fluttered open. Hanno reached up and tucked a loose strand of her flaxen hair behind her ear. It was such a gentle action from someone who had just killed multiple competitors. Cassia could see in that moment, he wasn't meant for violence.

Hanno pulled her face gently down and kissed her. It was deep but soft at the same time, and she would have continued kissing him, if her arm that was propping her up didn't slip on the wet stone ledge and land in the water. The hot water brought Cassia back to where she was-- and what she was doing. She stood up quickly, an embarrassing crimson shadowing her face. 

"I- I have to go," she said as she avoided Hanno's gaze which followed her as she laid out towels and a clean tunic for him. 

It had been more than a fortnight since that day, and Cassia avoided him at every one of his visits since then. Though she would be lying if she said she didn't take note that he refused assistance from any other servant, a fact that quelled a jealousy she didn't know she could feel for someone after one kiss. And now, tonight-- Hanno was asking for her. 

Cassia tried to keep her breathing calm and even as she walked down the Portico to the private bath he occupied, but her heart was beating too fast to breathe calmly. 

She knocked gently before entering the caldarium, forcing herself to meet his gaze in the candlelight. He was already in the pool, sitting in the corner, his arm hanging over the side.

Cassia didn't know what to say, nor if she should speak at all. Hanno watched her intently as she stood before the bath, waiting for him to tell her what he wanted. 

"Sit" he ordered in a quiet voice and she obeyed, taking a seat on the ledge. 

Hanno sat up, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her. He slowly reached for her hands, bringing them to his face, inhaling deeply. 

"Your hands smell... like a goddess's," he said after a moment. 

Cassia smiled to herself, "I was making bath oil..." 

"Sorry to have pulled you away from your task..." he said with an air of cheekiness as he once again relaxed back against the side. 

He asked, "what are your duties with me?"

"my duties?" Cassia asked, her eyebrows lifting slightly.

"What are you to do for me?" he rephrased his question.

She bit her lip and looked down to the bathing kit that sat by the ledge. 

"I'm to assist you with bathing..." she answered, surprised that she was not as intimidated by such a suggestive question.

Hanno smiled at her, "so you're not to join me? You cannot bathe with me?" 

Cassia shook her head, but a hint of a smile couldn't help but grace her lips. 

"Would you get in trouble?" Hanno asked, reaching out to touch the collar of her tunic. 

"I... I don't know, but I don't think my master would be pleased" 

He then looked her in the eyes and asked, " aren't I your master in this room?" 

She was at a loss for words, but that was no matter as he sat up and kissed her. It was more intense than their first kiss, more desperate and hungry, and it lit a fire in her.

"Join me..." Hanno whispered enticingly, his breath hot and ticklish on her ear. 

Cassia stood up, her heart beating wildly as she walked back to the door. She hesitated for just a second before locking the door. When she turned back towards Hanno he was smiling. 

She undressed slowly, enjoying the way he watched so intently, she could tell he was stroking himself as she got fully naked and walked towards the pool, descending slowly into the hot water. Cassia had never been in a bath that was warmer than tepid, and she gasped as she fully submerged herself in the water. 

Hanno reached out and pulled her into him, his leg resting between hers. She could feel the length of his cock against her thigh, instantly making her wet and lusty with desire. He moved her over to the ledge and with a small gasp from her lips, he lifted her up onto it and went between her legs, spreading them. Hanno looked up at Cassia as he planted a slow kiss on her inner thigh, and another and another before licking a strip up her wet lips. 

Cassia moaned, her eyes shutting tightly as he began working her with his tongue. She wasn't inexperienced in sex persay, but a man had seldom done this to her-- they typically only cared of their own pleasure. She felt Hanno separating her lips with his fingers before slipping one finger and then another inside her. Cassia gasped and covered her mouth, afraid that someone could have heard in the relative quiet of the thermae at night. 

She felt blinded with ecstasy as Hanno continued to lap at her and move his fingers in and out. Before long Cassia was seeing stars, and slowing Hanno's hand-- her orgasm rising through her so intensely she instantaneously became sensitive. She let herself breath for a moment, coming down from the high as he placed gentle kisses on her thighs once more. 

Cassia slid back into the pool, her head still swimming with the intense orgasm. Hanno grasped her hips and pulled her into him again, letting Cassia taste herself on his lips. She felt oddly delirious with desire for him, her orgasm making her hungry for more of him.

Hanno rested back against the side of the pool and Cassia wrapped her legs around his waist. He angled himself into her, and he cried out at his first thrust, burying his face into her neck, biting gently at her soft wet skin. 

Cassia rocked her hips back and forth, his cock stretching her walls with the slightest bit of pain that soon turned into nothing but pure pleasure. Hanno fingers dug into her fleshy hips, pulling her up and down on his cock, slowly and rhythmically, as if trying to make it last forever. She had wrapped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his wet curls, their kisses gentle but still hungry, as if neither of them could get enough. 

Hanno's thrusts became frantic while still deep, ramming his length into the very depth of her cunt so that she felt breathless at each one. He came with a stifled cry into Cassia's neck and she could feel all his muscles tense with his orgasm under her touch. They stayed still for a long moment like that, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing and the water trickling down from their skin. Cassia eventually pulled herself off of Hanno, and settled down next to him, his strong arms strung around her shoulders. 

They stayed just like that for some time, not saying anything, just being with each other. She felt like she could fall asleep in his arms, and with a slight pang in the pit of her stomach, she actually wished she could. 

[softpascalito]

Dulcissima I Marcus Acacius x Vestal!Reader I Chapter XII - Tears

Summary: Set before and during Gladiator II. General Acacius finds himself entranced by a highly valued priestess of Rome – A Vestal Virgin. But you both have taken vows that make sure your paths may never cross. Until they do.

Aka a fix-it fanfic where Acacius survives the Colosseum.

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Vestal Virgin Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 34k+ Tags: Secret Relationship, Vestal Virgins, Religious Guilt, Gladiator fights, Gladiator II compliant (more or less), Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Ancient Rome, Age Difference, Slow Burn (ish), Injury, Kissing, Historical Inaccuracy, (Attempted) Sexual Harassment, Smut, First Time, Oral Sex (f receiving), Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Slight Breeding Kink, Semi-Public Sex, More tags to be added

AO3 // Series Masterlist // Masterlist // Fic Playlist // Ko-Fi

notes: smooches to all of you and sorry for making y'all suffer a bit this time, i swear i'll make it up to you! ♡

Chapter XII - Tears

The house has long fallen silent when Acacius finally climbs the path that leads to his front door. Two or three braziers are placed between the withered plants, the flames the only spark of color in the otherwise bland winter landscape.

He tried to scrub it off. He tried to ignore the stabbing pain in his chest as he watched you rush out of the caldarium, your clothes and feet leaving a trail of water behind you. You looked so lost in his large cloak, the dark fabric shrouded around you like it could protect you from what was behind the doors. Acacius stood frozen to the spot, the thermae quiet enough to hear the front door close. You were gone.

He stayed still for a few more moments before he found one of the large brushes and rubbed it over his skin in the water in rough, circular motions. Trying to scrub off the guilt that settled over him. Guilt over starting this entire thing. And guilt over ending it.

It was the right thing to do, he kept reassuring himself in his own head. There was no way that you could be together. He’s not a stranger to difficult decisions, neither in battle nor his personal life. But usually they don't leave him feeling like he made a significant mistake. They don’t leave him feeling this hollow.

The image of your body in the water swims in front of his eyes. A thin sheet of water over your skin, your back arched in pleasure, his name falling from your mouth.

He fucks his own fist beside the pool before he leaves.

The night air is cold and ruthless and he hopes that you managed to be back in your bed more quickly than him, a shiver running through his body as he ascends the stone stairs towards his bedroom. He leaves his shoes outside, wanting to make as little noise as possible. The door barely creaks and the sigh of relief is already on his lips when his eyes fall on Lucilla's form on the further side of the bed, sheets draped over her body, blonde curls peeking out at the top.

Acacius slips his clothes off, finding that his skin still feels as heavy as it did before. He looks down at his own body, like he expects it to carry a written account of what he did tonight. But there is nothing there.

So, he lifts the sheets enough to crawl under them beside his wife. Despite them having agreed on this arrangement, that they remain to be seen as lovers in public, it is another complication in the situation with you. He’s certain that he’s seen Lucilla pass into the temple of Vesta on one occasion or another and knowing she is a woman of deep faith, Acacius makes a mental note to ask her about it, maybe find a reason to keep her away from the temple–and more importantly, from you. It may not do well for you to see her after tonight. Or him. Which will be difficult to upkeep, considering you are set to join him on a weeks– if not months–long trip.

The General settles on his back, staring up at the dark ceiling when he feels the bed shift beside him. And even without light, Lucilla's eyes on him feel as clear as day.

For a few moments, neither of them speak. He wonders what she is thinking but he knows better than to ask. But he doesn't have to.

“I was waiting for you.” Her voice doesn't carry a hint of accusation, sounding more like a gentle statement. A fact that is not to be changed. Like he had no choice but to leave her waiting throughout the night.

He hasn’t kept track but it must be nearing three in the morning by now.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, his eyes still quite not meeting hers. “I fell asleep at my desk.” He knows she doesn't want to hear about his work but he figures it may be better than the truth.

Lucilla sighs quietly, her hand stroking his cheek, dainty fingers rubbing over his beard. “Is it the campaign? How is your chest?” Acacius shakes his head, a silent denial that they both know isn't the truth. But for the second time tonight, the words he needs to say to a woman he loves seem to be stuck in his throat.

“It is nothing of the like. It has just been a few busy days.” Brown eyes meet blue just in time for him to see her face change as her hand reaches his hair, the tips still wet from the water. He can lie to soldiers and emperors alike. But not to the person that knows him best in the world.

“I wish you would tell me the truth.” She whispers, pausing briefly before adding; “But I understand why you don't." Her lips find his cheek and Acacius reaches for her. Before he can pull her into his embrace, she has pulled him into hers. His head settles against her chest and everything seems a bit lighter with her smell around him and her steady heartbeat below his ears.

“I did not want–” He pipes up, dimly aware of how broken he suddenly sounds but Lucilla just shushes him, one hand returning to pet his hair. It's why they still sleep in the same bed. Because they understand each other and she does not even make him tell the truth. She simply lets him cry into her chest until he wears himself out.

“Acacius?” She whispers eventually, the blanket tucked tightly around both of them. “Will you promise me something?”

“Anything.” He hums, keeping his eyes closed. It feels too hard to open them.

“You will come back, right?” The tremble that was in his voice a few minutes ago is now found in hers and he inwardly curses himself for mentioning the campaign in the first place. “Promise me you will come back.”

“I always come back, my lady.” Acacius whispers, opening his eyes and looking up at her. This time with nothing but truth in his eyes. “I always come back to you.”

She nods, seemingly satisfied for now and his eyelids begin to droop again. “If not for me, come back to whoever it is that brings those tears to your eyes.” He barely registers the sentence, already drifting off into a land of dreams where you are still there, where there is no war looming and where no gods stand in your way.

***

Sleep won’t come. You braided your hair and hung your clothes out to dry the minute you snuck back into your bedroom, stuffed Acacius’s cloak deep into the wooden chest in the corner of the room, not wanting to see it, and by extension, to see him.

But the thoughts of tonight are all-consuming. His words echo in your head, occasionally interrupted by the memories of his touch or his moans.

‘I knew it was a mistake to talk to you in the temple.’

You inwardly curse yourself for ever falling for his stupid tricks, for letting yourself believe that he was actually interested in anything other than an illicit, fleeting version of love. One that you fell for because you were not supposed to have it, never did have it and likely never would. Everyone hears what they say about soldiers on the streets, about those passing through and spending their hard-earned money on whores wherever they go. You figured a General would be above such things. But clearly, you were mistaken.

The house of the Vestals is quiet at night, the women usually retiring rather early. Often, after passing through busy streets filled with drunks and thieves after nightfall, stepping back into the house below the hill with the large courtyard felt like an escape. No one bothered you here, even the lowest people too respectful to risk the safety of Rome’s priestesses.

Tonight, for the first time in very long, you don't find comfort in your room. You've never felt so much like you're stuck in a prison, your vows hanging like bars in front of your doors and windows. You have no way of avoiding Acacius, much less a way of leaving Rome.

“Oh gods–” Between the midnight meeting and the ensuing conversation, you completely forgot that you are due to leave in two days. The excitement in your stomach has turned into dread and you feel tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. You rarely cry, usually just reprimanding yourself and deciding that your tasks are too important to get caught up in such childish emotions.

But the tears keep coming, quietly flowing down your cheeks and you rush back to the chest in the corner, pulling the dark cloak out and pressing it to your front as you crawl back into bed. You sling your arms around the soft fabric and imagine that it was him, that his calloused thumb would stroke your cheeks and brush your tears away. His smell surrounds you as you drift off into a fitful sleep.

***

You manage to avoid him the next day. You’ve accepted your fate, packing up the last things and saying goodbye to your friends. After washing your hair and stepping out into the sunlight, you feel much better, like everything that happened was just a bad dream. You’re ready to be polite and nothing more, to fulfil your duty as you have been asked to. Maybe it will lessen Vesta’s grievances against you, somehow make up for the sins you have committed.

The Vestalis Maxima is waiting for you with a large package of food when you step into the common room the morning of your departure. “Here you are, dear. I will take you to the General’s house, a few soldiers are waiting outside to carry your belongings.”

“Thank you,” you smile gently, taking the package from her and making your last round of goodbyes. Severa throws her arms around your neck when it's her turn, squeezing you against her.

“Be safe. And please, tell me everything when you get back.” She practically begs, reaching out to adjust your veil one last time.

“I will,” you promise, laughing quietly. “I will leave out no detail. You be good, yes?” She promises. Then, she hugs you again until the Vestalis Maxima steps forward.

“Alright, you two. It is time to go. Are you sure you are all packed? Are your clothes thick enough? It is cold today.” She gives you a once-over much like a mother would with a child, her gaze flying over each piece of clothing like she could judge their thickness just by looking at them. You reassure her that you have prepared well and she walks you all the way up to Acacius’s house, directing the soldiers behind you that carry your belongings. Then, she asks you to be good and serve Vesta well one more time, the soldiers leave to prepare the carriage, and suddenly, you are alone in the large atrium, only a few rays of sunlight filtering in so early in the morning.

It feels odd and you’re not quite sure what to do. You know the house fairly well by now but you remind yourself that this knowledge is only a reminder of your sins so you try and erase the memories. But your eyes are drawn to the same spot you kneeled down in, the first night Acacius touched you. The fish inside the small basin are as animated as ever, small ripples following where they move under the surface.

You raise your head when you hear footsteps from upstairs and as they draw closer, they are joined by two male voices. One you can’t immediately pinpoint but the other is soft yet deep and you swallow at the thought of standing in front of Acacius again.

He appears from behind one of the columns, talking with the servant who let you write the note. When they spot you, they pause their conversation and you can see Acacius’s face change ever so slightly.

“My lady,” he says politely. “I was not informed that you had already arrived.” He nods into your direction and then turns back to the young man beside him. “Eros, why don’t you go and fetch the lady a refreshment?”

“Of course,” the man named Eros responds immediately, giving you a small smile and turning towards the back of the atrium. Your voice shakes slightly as you speak, shaking your head. Your eyes fly back to Acacius.

“That will not be necessary. I had refreshments at home and brought some for the travels.” You’re not sure why you are doing this. It may take an hour or two before you actually have to leave and the refreshments from the kitchen are surely nicer than what is stored in your bag. But the way that Acacius won’t offer you anything himself, hasn't even told you to sit down–it bothers you more than you'd like to admit.

You feel Eros hover in his spot, looking back and forth between you and the General when Acacius smiles politely. “Very well. Then bring some refreshments upstairs please. I have to have a word with some of my men.”

The servant hurries away and the awkward silence between you and Acacius is cut short by another soldier walking in, carrying several maps and showing some of them to the General. You take a few tiny steps back and forth as you watch them and for a few minutes, Acacius seems completely enraptured by what's in front of him, tracing streets and seas with his index finger. It's like you're not even there.

“Acacius.” Lucilla’s robes move around her as she hurries past you, the General’s attention immediately on her. The soldier beside you has to repeat his question twice before you hear him.

“May I take the chest to the carriage, my lady?” There is a hint of impatience in his tone but he’s too aware of your status to make it sound like a proper accusation.

“Oh, of course. I am all packed,” you say quietly, your eyes never leaving the couple on the other side of the atrium. A sad smile spreads over Acacius’s lips and you notice his hand on her waist. You silently wonder if he touches her in the same places he did you, if he uses his tongue the same way, if he moans the same way.

“I want you to take it.” She whispers, barely allowing you to make out the words. You pretend to busy yourself with your stola, fumbling with the fabric that is draped over your arm, hanging on to every word that carries through the room. “It would be my honor if you wore it. And his.”

“Lucilla–” He mutters back and out of the corner of your eye, you see her holding something up to him, something so small that it is covered by her palm. “I gave it back for a reason. I wanted you to have it again after–” Acacius drifts off, his eyes suddenly flying to yours. Caught red-handed.

You cough awkwardly and step back, keeping your head low as you all but run out of the atrium, hearing their conversation start up again as you fall out of earshot.

***

“Your Vestal may give you trouble if she decides to deem listening in on high-ranking officials like yourself as appropriate.” Lucilla jokes weakly as she presses the ring into his palm. “She does not seem scared. I would have thought she would be, so young and never been out of Rome I presume.”

“She is not that young,” Acacius immediately responds before softening his tone again. He looks down at the gold ring in his hand, running his thumb over it. “I am sure she will be fine.” It feels like he is trying to convince himself as much as Lucilla.

She glances around briefly, making sure that no soldier remains in the shadows to listen to their words. “I wanted to join them when I was younger. After Maximus and I were separated in our younger days … it seemed more merciful to live a life of purity than have my father marry me off.”

“You never told me of that.” He hopes that the woman in front of him can't notice how strained his voice has suddenly become. “Why did you decide against it?”

He can tell that he has posed the wrong question by the way her face falls slightly. Acacius takes in the small crease between her brows as her blue eyes fly back down to the ring. “I had my reasons. And I imagine I never felt pure enough. And afterall, purity is in their name.”

“Yeah. Yeah, they are very pure.” Acacius agrees quietly and their words just hang in the air for a moment. Would he have done the same if Lucilla had been wearing the veil? Would their paths even have crossed if it had not been for the loss of Maximus? Would he have touched her too, tainting her the way he had you?

A sigh leaves Lucilla’s lips, snapping him out of his thoughts, and she pats his cheek with the palm of her hand, touching him so gently that it feels like she believes he could fall apart at any moment. Not unlike you traced his scars in the thermae, like he was a vase that had been broken and was made whole again, only thin lines telling of his past. “Write when you can. And come back in one piece.”

“You know not everyone will.” Acacius whispers. Every assignment, every campaign means death. The price seems unbearably high these days.

“You are not conquering new lands. You are just keeping the peace.” Lucilla responds quietly, her eyes flying between his. She leans forward, giving him a gentle kiss. “Try and keep your own as well.”

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"Tethered to You" Chapter 4

Masterlist HERE.

"Early this morning When you knocked upon my door Early this morning When you knocked upon my door

And I said hello Satan, ah I believe it is time to go Me and the devil walkin' side by side Me and the devil walking side by side…"

Soap & Skin – "Me and the Devil"

Her eyelids were too heavy to open. Swollen and raw from crying, Osha couldn't pry her dry lids apart. Her thighs ached and her head pounded a steady rhythmic pain. The scent of old wood smoke permeated the air. Tangled under a thin sheet and heavy wool blanket, she was too weary to move, yet the spiky pressure on her bladder was insistent that she relieve herself.

Osha turned her head to work the kinks in her neck out first. She wiped the crust from her lashes and dared to peek at the new world she escaped to. Qimir kept his living space neat although it was crowded with mechanical gadgets and cast off metalworkings. There were lighting lamps on the walls giving the cave a rustic glow. A power generator hummed in another hidden section of the cave that she spotted from a narrow opening beyond the sleeping area.

On a therma pad, near an old portable stove, sat a brass cooking pot. Something savory simmered inside, but Osha ignored it. She lifted up from the narrow bed noticing the weakness of her limbs. Her arm shook trying to hold her side up. A sour odor hit her in the face next. She sniffed wondering if it was the food cooking in the pot, however, seconds later, she understood it was her own unwashed body funk. With a scrunched face she dragged herself to the edge of the bed and placed her hands on her thighs to prop herself up. Queasiness in her stomach forced her head to lurch forward and she vomited a clear liquid onto the cave floor. She dragged her dehydrated body from the bed and headed for an open barrel filled with water. Not bothering to find a cup, she scooped water into her mouth and after drinking her fill, she washed her face with the cool liquid. A bitter watery sensation gathered in the back of her throat, but Osha pushed back on the urge to throw up again and swallowed several times praying that whatever wanted out... stayed in. The pain in her head subsided to a dull thud.

She was alone in the cave.

On unsteady legs, Osha rushed outside and peered down toward the ocean. The Exile ll was still on its landing pad in the distance. He hadn't abandoned her. Yet. She leaned against a rock wall and breathed in the crisp air. It helped quell the sudden panic. She touched her chest and her heart thumped like a frightened bird caught under her fingers. Embracing the fear that washed over her in that moment, Osha picked it apart to comprehend what it truly meant. Was it abandonment or the fear of never seeing him again? The swift attachment to Qimir seemed unnatural and yet her heart squeezed the inside of her chest the way it did when she lost her family as a child.

A dull sun floated in a hazy overcast sky allowing small shards of light to skim the oily blackness of the sea. The grayness floating on the horizon didn't affect the comfortable temperature caressing the skin on her face. She touched the clothing drenched in her stench. A bath was in order. She hastily pulled down her pants and squatted with stiff joints. Her urine ran out in a dark yellow stream flowing down loose gravel for what seemed like forever. She was grateful for not needing to do anything else and let her private parts drip-dry. A gust of cooler air blew between her legs and she pulled her pants up quickly being careful not to step in her own voided waste.

She wandered back to the cave testing the strength in her legs and passed a trio of small rock-looking creatures that watched her movement with round black eyes and long snouts.

"Shoo!' she said kicking her feet toward them in case they were small predators. They only watched her pass with quiet curiosity.

Inside the cave, Osha searched for clothing that belonged to Mae. She couldn't find anything other than a large chest filled with Qimir's things. She could borrow something of his though. Behind the chest was a metal clothing rack that held his black cape and other menacing looking garments. She touched his cape. The material was heavy under her fingertips.

"You're finally up…"

Osha jumped while fondling his clothes. She swallowed thickly and turned to face him. He wore a simple beige wrap-front jacket and brown linen pants with sturdy sandals and carried pale yellow netting filled with whatever he caught in the sea.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"A few days now. Three to be exact."

"Three days?" she sputtered back.

"Yep," he said heading to his kitchen area.

He dumped his fresh catch into a large bucket of water and wiped his hands on a dingy clean cloth sitting on a low wooden table. She moved away from his slow advance. He paused his movement toward her with a questioning look.

"Don't come near me. I smell really bad."

"I know, but I'm used to it now."

She looked away from his direct gaze embarrassed.

"Put on your boots. I'll take you to where Mae stayed. She has things you can use there. And you can bathe…in private."

Osha nodded and he pointed to her work boots under the bed. She sat down and laced up. He busied himself with checking on his bubbling pot and the cook stove. While he wasn't looking, she wiped her right boot over the spot where she vomited hoping it would dry up before he noticed or smelled it.

"Coffee?" he asked, holding up a black pot.

Osha shook her head.

"It's here if you want it. I don't know how much in provisions Mae had left down there, but I'll supply you with what you need until you're better."

Qimir spoke to her in a modulated tone that was probably meant to soothe her uneasiness of a three-day blackout. His voice caressed her earlobes and she didn't fully trust the way it made her feel. Safe.

He wasn't a safe man.

But she wasn't a safe woman either.

He was a Sith.

And she chose him over the Jedi.

His hair was a damp crown of dark waves. He'd bathed earlier. His shirt stuck to his back and sides in wet places. He smelled of the sea and wind giving her a false glimpse of what life could be like with him training there. Her eyes narrowed watching him putter around his little kitchen like some innocent domestic. It was part of his seduction to keep her there. She knew that.

"Ready?" he said wiping his hands and then brushing a lock of hair from his eye.

Osha stood and Qimir reached for her newly acquired lightsaber hidden under the bed that she missed. He handed it to her overlooking the obvious wet spot on the floor under her boot. She gripped the lightsaber with assertive purpose. What she had done to get the weapon rushed forward in her mind and she shelved it for later introspection. He led the way out of the cave.

"Keep an eye on those things over there. They'll try to slip into your place and eat your food or even steal your clothes for nesting material. They're harmless, but annoying sometimes," he said pointing to the rock creatures. "Mae used to feed them and now they linger here all the time defecating everywhere."

Osha grinned behind Qimir's back. Mae was always playing with animals and insects on their home world. She exhaled a worrisome breath thinking of her sister.

"Hold up a minute," she said.

A spasm in her lower back slowed her walk.

"No. Keep moving. You haven't walked in days and your muscles are cramped. Stretch and move."

He kept walking far along a long, flat, and uneven path that created a barrier to a lagoon of dark blue water. She glanced to her left and admired another rocky island shaped like a scalene triangle on the horizon. Qimir turned to look at her.

"Walk," he said.

It was an order.

Osha pushed herself and grit her teeth enduring the uncomfortable pins and needles sensation in her sluggish feet. Slowly but surely her lower limbs came back to life and she trudged behind Qimir without stopping.

"You'll stay there," he said pointing further inland.

They hiked off the path for another twenty minutes and Osha understood why her sister never knew her Master's identity. He kept her housed far away where it was impossible to sneak up on him. Hidden behind a giant crumbling boulder that jutted across a tiny stream was a small opening to a dark cavern. Qimir climbed in first and popped a lighting tube he pulled from his pocket that lit up the entrance. He glanced around and found a lamp fixed to the cave wall and tapped it. Soft yellow light illuminated a small neat dwelling. There was a cot, a single chair, and a small table with tools and blade weapons on it. An uneven makeshift bamboo closet filled with Mae's cloaks and dark garments leaned against another wall. A hand-woven basket near the bed was filled with underwear and scarves. There was a decent-sized crack in the roof that let in some sunlight and it showed Osha a comfortable set up. The cave had more room in it than she ever had in her sixteen years away from Brendok. On Coruscant she roomed in a noisy dorm with other younglings and Padawans, while working as a meknek only afforded her tiny shared bunks in close-confined quarters on a starfighter. The cave was fit for a queen compared to what she was used to.

"She has a therma pad and some cooking utensils back there and a portable compression chamber to dry and preserve the food she caught herself. The lagoon water is drinkable, but run it through that water purifier over there first. It's rained the last two days and she collects water in buckets outside from the rock run-off…"

He pointed out other things she would need to use like a heater and where she could use the restroom inside and outside. Osha turned on other lamps and looked around.

"You'll find where to bathe safely in several places once you go exploring on your own. You can use the lagoon too if you want. There's a few natural hot springs around the island to soak your body after training. But you don't need that yet," he said.

"Okay."

"Clean up. Rest. We'll talk more later."

She nodded and he lifted an unopened ration pack next to a small knife on the desk.

"She usually had a box of these in here. They taste pretty good if you haven't eaten in a long time."

"I'll look around for them."

Qimir headed out and stopped in his tracks with his back to her.

"You'll have to unlearn so much from your old Jedi training."

He said it so low that she had to step forward to hear him.

"I know. I'm prepared for that."

He turned around.

"Osha, I will show you how to take the freedom you've wanted your entire life. I remember what it was like back then. Longing to be like them. They are so adept at selling you a dream that never comes to fruition. Everything was about control. Controlling the way you think, controlling how you act, even controlling how you were supposed to feel…turning you into a mindless disciple…turning you into bland, obedient, nothingness. They build up the light side of the Force as the panacea for the galaxy, but what they truly want is to push their will on those of us who seek a more passionate life that we bend to our will. The dark side has more to offer your life than you could ever imagine. I see it in you…felt it the first time I laid eyes on you. I will show you how truly dark and divine you are, Osha."

He spoke her name with such reverence making it sound like a sacred incantation.

"I want that. All of it," she said.

His eyes held a sensual glow in the lamp light. He reached out and caressed the side of her face. The pads of his rough fingertips were warm and she leaned into his touch. Her eyelids grew heavy. Glancing at his lips she noticed the lower one housed between his teeth and her own lips parted. All she could hear in the cave was her beating heart and the silvery tone of his voice as he spoke a new code to her.

"Peace is a lie…there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength I gain power. Through power I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken."

Osha let the words sink into her ears and his eyes sink into her soul.

"Say them to me," he said.

He rooted her in place and she didn't speak until his thumb stroked the top of her cheek.

"Peace is a lie. There is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength I gain power. Through power I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken…"

"Again," he said.

Qimir pressed his forehead against hers and swallowed each airy word from her mouth as she released them with more conviction.

"Through victory, my chains are broken," she whispered into his parted lips.

He closed his eyes and that devilish smirk quirked his lips. She pleased him.

Qimir stepped away from her and a tenuous connection to him broke inside her like a cold splash of water thrown on her head. She glanced toward the opening in the cave. Breaking away from his charged gaze reminded her that her body stank to high heaven and she itched all over to wash away days of dirt, sweat, and her old life. Qimir caught the hint and climbed out of the cave leaving her to the privacy of her own thoughts.

She plopped down on the lumpy cot. It was not as big as Qimir's which was barely a full-sized bed under Jedi standards, but big enough for her. Privacy was a new luxury and she rifled through her sister's basket of underwear and found a body towel. Poking around further she found a toiletry bag behind a standing mirror with everything she needed to take care of her hygiene. She settled on wearing a long purple tunic that had criss-cross ties that she liked. Rolling it up in the towel, Osha gathered all that she needed and went to the largest water source outside of her cave which was back down to the lagoon.

Knowing Qimir was far away she didn't hesitate to pull off her smelly clothes and jumped into the chilly water. She let out a loud shriek once the icy cold hit her filthy skin. The lagoon was less than six feet deep at its maximum depth, and she swam around first getting used to the temperature before heading into more shallow water to scrub up with the chunk of soap and shampoo her sister left behind. She laughed out loud at how stiff her nipples stayed and how goosebumps decorated her body throughout her bathing time. The sun hadn't broken free from the clouds long enough to warm up the water, and she spent six good minutes scrubbing, rubbing and rinsing. She massaged her scalp with shampoo and carefully washed each loc thoroughly before dunking her head under to rinse away dingy-colored lather. Shaking her hair, it felt lighter. She fingered her thick curly roots in sections and knew it was time to plan a day to palm roll all the new growth. She prayed her sister had some hair butter to help with that long task. Osha figured she had to have a lot tucked away somewhere because Mae had beautiful long locs before she cut them. Now that she was free to be her true self, Osha wanted to grow her own locs longer. Like Mama's.

She stood up naked in the shallow end and cradled her hands against her chest. Mama used to hum and sing to them while they sat between her legs getting their scalps oiled and hair twisted into strong ropes of magic…at least that's what Mama called their hair. When Mama was done using her nimble fingers to bind curling roots, Mother Koril would decorate their soft locs with little shiny trinkets that she made just for them. Flowers. Shells from other worlds. And colorful seeds that the coven brought with them to Brendok long before she and Mae were born.

Osha remembered how Mama told the story of how she escaped from her original home world after she was exiled for being a heretic. She braided seeds into her hair to carry on their journey, and she taught the other women how to bind their hair in that secret way to secure food sources and beauty for their new life on Brendok. When they were finally free to be themselves, they planted those seeds that provided nourishment for their bodies and wild flowers for the forest. It became a tradition forever-after to braid seeds, shells, and memories of who they had once been and would soon become in their hair. It bound them together inside the Thread of Destiny. Like the long branches of the bunta tree curving down to the ground and their locs growing like enchanted tendrils down their backs, the Thread of Destiny was interwoven into the very fabric of their lives to remind them of their purpose.

She lingered in the cold lagoon touching her soft hair, bringing back sense memory of how her life used to be before she wanted to go…with him.

Sol.

Osha splashed out of the water and dried off, fighting back tears that threatened to crumble her face into a mask of anguish. Tossing on the tunic, she sprinted back to her cave barefoot, not even bothering to stick her feet in the unlaced boots she carried. She nearly tripped and broke her ankle diving into the cave. Heat rose from her feet up to the top of her head from the exertion. She threw her bundle of dirty clothes and boots on the floor and paced for awhile to calm down.

Her emotions swelled and subsided like the tides of the sea and it grew difficult to keep from crying. She needed a task to keep her busy. Dumping the basket of clothes onto the bed, she rummaged through them to get an idea of what she had as a wardrobe. She didn't know when they'd go off-world again for supplies or anything else.

Mae's underthings and casual-wear were of high quality. Her personal style slanted toward assassin chic. Osha dug through a large duffel bag and pulled out a bundle of clothes and a heavy folded cloak—

It couldn't be. Her throat nearly closed up.

She ran her fingers across the inner lining and recognized it immediately. The royal purple coloring upon closer inspection was a patchwork quilt of material stitched together to reinforce the wearer with more warmth from the darker purple of the outer layer. Her fingers shook. It was Mama's cloak repurposed with the scraps of Mother Koril's covering and the other coverings belonging to members of their coven. Osha spread it out on the bed and a small gold cape made for a child fell out of it. It belonged to Mae. It was part of their Ascension attire and had Mae's initials stitched into the shoulder with the sigil of their double moon.

"Oh, Mae," Osha cried out as her fingers smoothed open the cape to find pieces of Mama's cowrie-shell tassels left intact.

"Mae…Mae…" she whispered, shoving the child's cape into her nose, sniffing the scent of her twin when she was a little girl.

"They made me blame you…made me hate you…all over lies. So many lies."

Osha whimpered and fell onto her side clutching Mama's cloak against her chest.

"Mama, I'm so sorry…Mother Koril, you were right…so right. Forgive me."

She lifted a beaded string of cowrie shells and a boiling rage welled up in her chest and flowed outward consuming every cell in her body. The mirror reflected her vengeful image and she stood up to look at herself fully. The purple tunic draped around her with a form-fitting regal elegance as her rage festered, bubbling to the surface like a red-hot volcano that would level an entire world if it couldn't be contained, and in that moment, Osha fed into the desire to exact retribution on every Jedi in the galaxy. She screamed out decades of lies and the pain of a stolen life, screamed for the awful deceit and subterfuge the Jedi brought to her kin until the chords in her neck strained with the horror of it all. The blazing black rage coursed through her veins and swallowed the whites and browns of her eyes until a steely onyx gaze stared back at her from the mirror. It surged higher and she watched the edges of her body burn away like vaporous midnight ash floating away as Qimir's face tethered her inside the dark embers and became her sole focus until she winked out of existence into a raging frigid vortex of spiraling darkness.

Seconds later she snapped back into the world with the wind knocked out of her.

But she was no longer in her cave.

Gasping for air, sweating profusely, and disoriented, Osha jerked left then right, trying to fathom where she was. After another solid gulp of fresh air cleared her fuzziness, she recognized her surroundings.

In her feral rage, she had somehow transported herself outside of Qimir's cave. She quickly rubbed every part of her body to make sure she was a solid being completely there and not a smoky apparition imagining herself somewhere that she wasn't. Relieved, Osha exhaled and grounded herself. She was most definitely a mile away from where she started.

Qimir stepped out from his entrance carrying a bowl of hot soup.

"I was just coming your way to bring you this in case you were…Osha?"

He stared at her with concern. Between gulps of air, Osha blurted out an explanation.

"I don't know how I got here. I was angry and screaming in my cave and then…I turned into black smoke and broke apart…disappeared and reappeared here. I don't know what happened to my body."

Qimir absorbed the otherworldly information with a sense of calm that she needed desperately.

"Well, right now you're safe and in one piece. I can feel shifting fluctuations in the Force…this is something we can work through and understand…okay?"

There was a gleam in his eye. He held out the bowl to her.

"Eat with me inside and we'll figure out what happened…together," he said.

Osha's mouth watered from the scent of the bowl and her stomach co-signed the hunger by grumbling.

Qimir gave her a sanguine smile.

"Can't fight nature, Osha. You're starving."

She stared at the bowl and the hand that held it. He was the most powerful man she had ever met in her life and he wanted her for his acolyte. The wonders and wisdom she could learn from him would shape her into the warrior she needed to be.

She reached out and took the bowl.

He stepped aside and gave her space to walk into his cave on her own volition when she was ready.

"I want to choose me this time," she said.

Her feet wouldn't move and her body still trembled as she held the bowl of soup to her side. Qimir came to her instead and pressed his lips on her forehead. The taut, hard feel of his body against her soft nakedness under the tunic broke the spell of uncertainty and she walked by his side into his home.

Chapter 5 HERE.

A.N.:

I'm going to play a lot with hair and Black women using magic because I am someone who has worn locs for over half my life and I also grew up with Hoodoo, so I know what it's like to be seen as an outsider up against b.s. (Um, the Crown Act in the U.S. and all the stigma Black folks get for practicing their own rooted African Traditional Religions etc, hello).

[yanderepuck]

Kinktober Day 29

AND WE'RE BACK FOR A FOURTH TIME. It's that lovely time of the year where I write mediocre smut with no plot for a whole month. So sit your ass down and take a few minutes to read some smut.

As always, kinktober is held by our local Napoleon simp, @xxsycamore

If you'd like to read the last three years, go here

Remember to reblog and tell me what you think

Sex Games | Trying New Positions

You poke your finger at one of the stacked blocks. It pokes out on the other side of the tower and you carefully pull it out.

You've never been great at Jenga, but this version is a little different. On each of the blocks is something you can do with a partner. A few of the blocks are already missing from the tower and are laying around the tower. Things you've already done.

You look at the block and shove it in your pocket for later. You leave the room and go about your day doing chores and cooking. It isn't until after dinner that you go to find Vincent.

Every few days one of you has pulled a block from the tower and shown it to the other. You were hoping it would get you two into doing something you wouldn't have done, but the activities on them are a little plain.

'Give oral for 2 minutes'

'Doggy style'

'Let's do it in the kitchen'

'Take your top off'

Nothing completely exciting. But the one you pulled today could be fun.

"Vincent," you sound happy as you enter his room.

He was just starting to clean up his paints for the day when you came in.

"You seem to be in a good mood," he smiles at you.

"Hold out your hand for me," he does as you ask and you take the block out of your pocket and put it in his hand.

He flips it around to read it and his eyes widen a little.

'Have sex while bathing'

"Are you okay with doing this?"

"Of course I am. I wouldn't be showing you it if I wasn't, silly."

You grab his arm and start pulling him out of the room.

"Did you check to see if anyone was in there?"

"No one bathes around this time. Mozart waits until the middle of the night so we'll be fine."

Vincent follows you down to the thermae. Being cautious you still lock the door to go in. If anything they will assume it is you getting a bath so it's not like they will try to unlock it.

You get in the water after Vincent with a gun.

"Mmm. It's so warm."

Vincent gets close to you and wraps his arms around you. You put your hands on his cheeks and start kissing him. He kisses you rougher and leads you over to the edge of the bath where there is a ledge to sit on.

You follow him without hesitation and when he sits down, you sit in his lap. Your hands go under the water to rub him, immediately getting him hard. As he moans he kisses you harder. His hands slide down to grab your ass, lifting you up just enough.

You shift yourself closer just enough so that when you sit back down his cock slides inside you. Your hands rest on his shoulders, your nails dig into him while you move up and down on him.

He moans along with you. His grip on your ass helps you up. You try. Not to move too fast so the water doesn't splash too much. You sit on him and just rock your hips, getting him to whine.

"D-don't stop," he sounds desperate for you. Just a few minutes ago he didn't even know you pulled that block and now he's desperate for you.

Letting go of your ass, he grabs your chest, groping them as rough as he can it seems. You try not to yell, knowing it would echo.

Seeing you bite your lip, Vincent kisses you again. He tried to thrust up into you to get you to start moving again.

Whining slightly you start moving up and down again. You come down harder but stay fairly slow.

"Ahh-hh fuck," you break the kiss to be able to breath. You gasp as he pinches your nipples.

His lips go to your neck, still wanting to feel you on his lips. He gives you little bites, not with his fangs, but just a little something to leave marks.

"You're so beautiful," he says lowly.

You keep moving, feeling yourself getting closer and closer but not quiet there.

He lets one of your boobs go, letting it enter the water to rub you.

Your breathing hitches and you come down on him harder and moan louder, not caring about the echoing any more.

He keeps rubbing you, then finally bites you, pushing you to finally cum.

You keep trying to move to get Vincent to finish as well. It only takes you bouncing a few more times before your walls are covered in his cum.

He moans with his mouth still on your neck.

You both sit there and pant. You keep him inside you as you lean your head forward and rest against his shoulder to breath.

"Ungh...I don't want to walk back now..."

[gunnerpalace]

A Charming Place

Date: March 31, 2024 Event: Strawberry Tales (@ichirukicollab) Art: Ana (Lamb & Lion line art, Thermae Bath Spa colors) and Sid (Thermae Bath Spa line art, Lamb & Lion colors) Story: @gunnerpalace​ Beta: Silk & Mila​ Chapters: 1 Word Count: 6,533 Rating: Explicit Genres: romance, fluff, smut Warnings: none

Summary: Travel doesn't have to be only either business or pleasure. In 2016, long after an alternative Thousand-Year Blood War and its aftershocks, a married Captain Rukia and Lieutenant Ichigo are given the task of liaising with Wing Bind in London, and leave in advance to enjoy some time in Europe. We join them on approach to the charming city of Bath, in between a bewildering time in Paris and the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare's death in Stratford-upon-Avon. Soothed by the bucolic English countryside rolling by, the two find themselves both wanting a more tranquil—but by no means boring—afternoon, evening, and night together…

Notes: A huge thank you to my artists both for their work and for letting me post it here on Tumblr, and to the Strawberry Tales team! It was a lot of fun to get involved with the community again!

Excerpt

“Remind me which one of us wants to go how far north again, merely to see the house where a guy who wrote plays was born?”

“Shakespeare is not just ‘a guy who wrote plays’,” Ichigo replied sourly.

“Oh, of course not, my mistake,” Rukia continued quite sarcastically, dramatically lifting the back of a hand to her own forehead. “To be or not to be sorry, that is the question!”

He was momentarily lost for words as he realized his wife had quoted the Bard—sort of. Had she taken an interest in the matter and done some study of her own?

As he pondered that, she continued in quite good English: “Alas, poor Shakespeare! I knew him, Ichigo: a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is!”

Continue reading on AO3!

[harlow-loves-you]

Uhh I'm gonna post the story I'm writing on here because I can if (my first post)

The Kingdom's of Love and Sins

CHAPTER 1 PART 1

I filled my thermas up with hot tea and got my shoes on. "Bye mom! Bye momma!" I yelled across the hall. "Bye Vinny! Your mom will be here soon!" "okay!" I replied. I rushed out the door, spilling a drop of tea on my sweater. As I passed by the book store I saw a sign that read "new fantasy books!" our town was poor so we didn't have many books till now. I entered the store and walked toward the new shelves. I looked closely at the new books and saw on they stood out it was bigger and dustier than the rest. It was labeled "The Kingdom's of Love and Sins" I lifted up the book and nearly dropped it! 'That thing could weigh a thousand pounds! It seems interesting though! I'll get it! ' I thought. The book slammed on the counter as a bunch of dust flew up into the air. "Good morning Mr. Smith!" I greeted "goodmorning Vinny! I see you found our new fantasy books?" Mr. Smith (the librarian) replied. "Let's see what book is this- oo! This is one of my favorites! Yknow I used to know the author of this book and apparently it's. True story!" he said, excited. "Mhm" I replied. I know he's not telling the truth, he's probably just saying that cuz I'm a kid. I went along with it though.

[infernal-scales]

THERE’S A LONG MOMENT where Crowley’s cup stays at his lips, neither tipping back nor away as his gaze tracks that pink muscle tussling with the sea variety.

❝ Y-Yeah. ❞ His voice comes out drier than the wine.

He clears his throat at the exact moment his index finger lifts, the subtle scent of sulfur hiding amongst the earthy smells around them as every remaining oyster latches onto their shells. Bracing a hand behind him, Crowley tucks in for a show as he finally takes another sip of his drink.

❝ Well, they certainly wouldn’t kill Cupid, now would they? ❞ He snorts, remembering the soldiers falling over themselves from a flash of wings. ❝ And to think this all started ‘cause some servant boy slipped in the thermae ‘n almost drowned a general from DIVE-BOMBING LINENS. ❞

AZIRAPHALE'S HAND RETURNS to his wine cup as Crowley retracts, and he takes a nervous sip with a nod of agreement.

❝ Mmm. ❞ He swallows. ❝ Perhaps we can return one day. See just how right you are. ❞

Eyes fixing upon the platter again, he scoops up an oyster, and it's this slippery bastard that he has to CHASE AROUND THE SHELL with the tip of his tongue for some time before the meat can find itself within him.

❝ We might both be incompetent. It's a miracle we made it out of that room alive. ❞

[ljsbhs]

COMIC

DANCER

TRAGIC

Apodyterium (CHANGE)

IN THIS CITY WE FIND THE SUPPLY OF WATER IS SO ABUNDANT THAT THE CITY IS FULL OF NATURAL BATHS. (Strabo)

THE THERMAE ITSELF MUST HAVE A LARGE OPEN SPACE CLEAR ROUND IT, WHICH MUST BE ENCOMPASSED WITH A HIGH WALL, WITH PROPER ENTRANCES AT CONVENIENT PLACES. (Alberti)

“Now we get naked?”

“The place to wound him is laid bare.” (Seneca)

Tear off the disguise of wild delusion, and look at the naked deeds: weigh them naked, judge them naked. (Augustine)

"To be stripped out of your comfort zone can lead to remarkable personal growth and new perspectives."(CHAT GPT)

So that’s what they did as it was customary.

The machinery must be cleaned from time to time. (Marx)

After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music. (Aldous Huxley)

With that the dancer scooped up her portable speaker and they left together for the cold baths.

Frigidarium (COLD)

Cold is merciless. It shows you where you are. What you are. (Wim Hof)

THE SPACE IS EXPANSIVE. REACHING UP TOWARDS THE HEAVENS. IN EACH CORNER OF THE FRIGIDARIUM (9A—D) ARE FEMALE FIGURES UNCONNECTED WITH AQUATIC REVELS. (Marzano)

MICHELANGELO BUILT HIS CHURCH WITHIN THE ROMAN FRIGIDARIUM, A HUGE SPACE 58.8 M (LENGTH) X 24.15 M (BREADTH) X 30.15 M (HEIGHT). (Heilbron)

“disaster on disaster!” (Seneca) “this space is so slow and enduring. But how to capture the cold?

“Hot or cold, tragedy, comedy?” (Serres)

“I fear neither. Its fixed and ordered composition renders conflict impossible. (Seneca) How depressing.”

"You gotta laugh, or else you'll cry. Trust me, I've been there. Sometimes a good joke is the best way to face the tough stuff." (CHAT GPT)

18:038:030 The waters are hid as with a stone, and the face of the deep is frozen. (King James Bible)

Speaking to the dancer who had retreated into his body: why hidest thou thyself in times of trouble? (King James Bible)

“I think I don’t go well with the cold. Nevertheless the breath is a means of moving, as the first instrument of motion. (Aquinas) We should consider every day lost on which we have not danced at least once.” (Nietzsche)

“Because trembling is occasioned by cold; thus we observe that a cold person trembles. (Aquinas) Or that, if cold is an evil, it is an evil to be cold?” (Seneca)

The comic takes care to make this second observation in the same place as the first, and if skilfully lead up to, one or other would certainly exclaim, ”What a funny thing!” (Rousseau)

What a funny thing! What a funny thing!

And so they leave for a more temperate space. In time They were ice cold. (Hugo)

Tepidarium (TEMPERATE)

It is recommended to reacclimate gradually. What is necessary is to reduce food, to employ the moistest regimen, baths and increased rest, and sleep, until there is a recovery.( Hippocrates of Kos) Then the cold, too, is restrained and gives way, but some day soon it will be more powerful again. (SENECA)

“Now slowly we can begin to move again. Stretch our wings and flex our toes.”

“Don’t FORGET to breathe. Nevertheless the breath is a means of moving, as the first instrument of motion.” (Aquinas) 12m views

The dancer dances off humming a jolly tune. And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music. (Nietzsche)

THIS SPACE, …MODELED ON THE TEPIDARIUM OF THE BATHS OF CARACALLA IN ROME, WAS FRAMED IN STEEL, THOUGH ITS WALLS WERE CLAD IN TRAVERTINE, ITS CORINTHIAN COLUMNS WERE OF MARBLE, AND ITS COFFERED VAULTS WERE PLASTER. (Blackwell)

“He must be insane!” “Yes, I believe so.”

"Thank you for being there to lift the weight when it gets too heavy." (CHAT GPT)

"And thank you for reminding us that even in darkness, there's a glimmer of light." (CHAT GPT)

After this touching exchange, the dancer comes dancing back and so they move on.

Caldarium (HOT)

Suddenly Katy Perry is playing on the dancers’ portable speaker and she’s dancing in unison with two new friends, in perfect lip sync.  75m views.

“Perspiration should flow only after toil.” (Seneca)

And they sweat heavily!

The comedian is wondering, If the comedy be good, why is it refused? (Goldini)

THREE BRONZE TANKS SHOULD BE ASSEMBLED ABOVE THE FURNACE, ONE A CALDARIUM, ONE A TEPIDARIUM, ONE A FRIGIDARIUM, AND THEY SHOULD BE SO PLACED THAT HOWEVER MUCH HOT WATER FLOWS FROM THE TEPIDARIUM INTO THE CALDARIUM, AS MUCH COLD WATER IS COMING IN FROM THE FRIGIDARIUM TO THE TEPIDARIUM IN THE SAME FASHION. (Vitruvius)

“One feels warmth approaching, and behold!

“Heat is very important for their activities. When the water starts boiling it is foolish to turn off the heat.” (Mandela)

The dark, humid, cramped space is exciting, and he watches the dance unfold while relaxing in the heat.

They are sweating and laughing. there are tears; (Rousseau)

“I say unto you: one must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star. I say unto you: you still have chaos in yourselves. (Nietzsche)

…fine, fresh, fierce, we got it on lock! (Katy Perry)

Palaestra (PLAY)

[seven-seas-of-rhye-bread]

A Fate Worse Than Death- Part 1 of ?

Weee okay I've shirked the responsibility of my big girl job this afternoon to work on something that is kind of a mix of a few ideas that lovely readers suggested. There's a few different ways this could go in my head, so I've got some planning to do (suggestions always welcome...)

There will be more than just Geta in this one, so please, if General Acacius and/or Lucius Verus are your faves, STAY IN LINE.

Warning: None so far...?

Disclaimer: ONCE AGAIN-- I am merely a dreamy, horny bitch-- this is not historically accurate besides what google could tell me in the first couple results. I am here for a juicy, slow burning time, not a historically accurate time.

The cart rattled and swayed down the steep road leading into Rome. It carried 10 prisoners, including Aia, from all across the northern part of the empire. It had been a journey full of sickness and hunger, she had lost count of how long they had been traveling-- a month? 2 months?

She could feel the pit in her stomach grow as the view of the Colosseum, once far off in the distance, was getting closer. What would become of her? Aia tried to imagine each fate that could await her and every one she imagined was worse than the last. 

"oh look at this one!" a dirty Roman man clung to the cart and touched her hair.

She tried to hit him but he jumped down quickly upon seeing her fist pull back. Was this to be her life now? Fending for herself at every turn? She fought back tears for the thousandth time since she had been captured. Rome would never see her cry. 

As they approached the city proper, carts of the caravan fell away, until it was only the prisoner carts left. They had made their way to what she assumed was the slave market. Romans dressed in elaborate togas roamed the market place, inspecting slaves like they were pieces of fruit-- it made Aia sick. 

"Alright! Everyone out!" it was the grating voice of her captor, Titus. 

Aia was herded out into the market and made to stand in a line with others that had made the journey with her. Titus grabbed Aia's arm and dragged her through the maze of stalls to a grand tent that stood on the outskirts of the market.

Titus lifted the tent flap and pushed her in.

A man sat back on a divan, nursing a goblet of wine, "Titus! What have you got for me today?" the man stood up and greeted him.

 " Well, Faunus-- this is Albina, a very pretty thing we picked up in Gaul. She was trying to sabotage food stores at a legion outpost up there. She's a feisty one, put up a good fight before we could subdue her. She's quiet though, you won't get much backtalk from her."

It was true, Aia hadn't spoken a word to Titus or anyone else in the caravan for that matter, since she was captured. 

"Albina! Will I see her beauty and radiance when she's... clean?" Faunus asked, surveying her with an air of disgust. 

Titus laughed, " once she's clean, you'll see why I brought her to you!"

Aia's stomach dropped, what was she destined for in Faunus's grip? Why would she need to be beautiful?

 'Well Titus, you have never let me down yet with the women you bring to me-- do we have ourselves a deal? At our usual rate?"

Faunus and Titus shook hands and roared with laughter, like old friends. What had happened to the other women Titus brought to Faunus? Aia was taken to a thermae and ordered to clean herself up, with the help of an attendant and under the watchful eye of Faunus's henchman. In spite of her worries, she allowed herself to enjoy the hot water, the beautiful smelling soaps and oils that the attendant washed and coated her in. However, it was never lost on her the fact of her situation: she was being prepared for someone.

The question was, for whom?

A painful ache of memory found it's way into Aia's mind-- this preparation-- it reminded her of her wedding night. She pushed the memory of that night, and her beloved husband, Dago, out of her mind.

   As the sun set over Rome, Aia was further prepared by one of Faunus's slaves.

She was a kind looking older woman, who smiled sadly at her. She dressed Aia in a beautiful stola and brushed her hair back into a sweeping style. "

Do you know where I'm going?" Aia whispered to the woman, desperate for any hint of what awaited her.  

The woman answered barely above a whisper, "the palace"

"Please do you know anything more of what awaits me?" Aia pleaded.

"Emperor Geta..." the woman whispered singularly. 

So that was her fate: to be a plaything for one of the twin rulers. Aia felt a numbness seep into her being at the thought. Even in Gaul the cruelty of the emperors was widely known. 

Despair wanted to burrow deep inside her, but as scared as she was, she promised herself then and there that Geta would not break her. No matter what happened, she knew who she was, and not Geta, nor anyone in Rome, would cause her to forget herself. 

The door opened suddenly and swiftly, causing both Aia and the old woman to start. It was Faunus barging in, a sickening smile on his face. 

"Titus was certainly right! You were worth every denari, Geta will be pleased!" he exclaimed to himself. 

He grasped Aia's face roughly and looked her in the eyes, "yes...you'll make him a very happy man, I'm sure..." 

------

The Imperial palace was an intimidating and domineering presence in the darkness of night, and Aia's heart thumped wildly as Faunus's carriage pulled them along the road up Palatine hill.

" You are not to speak unless spoken to-- which shouldn't be a problem, since you seem to be mute!" he chuckled to himself before continuing, " You will obey Emperor Geta's every command in the instant he states them. You must maintain your beauty, of course you'll have other slaves to assist with that... and don't even think about trying to escape-- this is as much a fortress as it is a palace, and you will be caught-- and severely punished."

The carriage came to a halt and Faunus ordered her out, a guard immediately taking tight hold of her arm. Before the carriage pulled away, Faunus raised a finger towards her, "if you somehow displease Emperor Geta and you tarnish my reputation as a trader... I promise you, I will kill you."

And with that, the carriage disappeared into the night. 

The guard escorted Aia to a back entrance into a kitchen and through several hallways. She was in a maze,-- a beautiful, terrifying maze of marble columns, grand mosaic floors and frescoes at every turn. Incense burned in every corner creating an intoxicating haze that made her slightly dizzy.

They rounded a final corner where a sentry stood outside a magnificent set of doors. The guard released his grip on her arm and walked away, without a single word. 

Aia was now on her own. 

The sentry stepped aside and Aia approached the doors, turning the intricate handle of one and pushing it open with great effort. To her surprise and great relief, the vast room was empty.

The sentry pulled the heavy door closed behind her as she stepped further in. She had never in her life been in the presence of such opulence and it overwhelmed her.

A small pond stood front and center and she could catch the glimmer of small fish in the light cast from the oil lamps; the bed, which seemed to loom ominously to Aia, was larger than any she had seen before, the frame cast in bronze and decorated intricately with mother of pearl. She found herself lost in thought, taking her new surroundings when she heard the creaking sound of the door opening. 

Geta walked in with an air of confidence that Aia found immediately off-putting. He smiled when he saw her and rubbed his hands together as if he was about to devour her.

"You.. are beautiful" he stated singularly, surveying her head-to-toe and up again. He had clearly expected a reaction from her, but Aia stood stock still, mostly out of fear, as much as she would hate to admit it. 

He gave her an amused look, " what is your name?" 

Aia again stood still, not saying a word. Geta stepped towards her and she caught the scent of myrrh.

"Your name." his voice had lost it's amused edge and Aia recalled Faunus's warning.

 "Albina" she answered quietly. 

"Albina" he repeated with a smile, satisfied for at least the moment.

He took a seat in a lavish, carved chair by the pond, not taking his eyes off her. 

"And what corner of this glorious empire are you from?" She could feel her fist clench slightly, a movement that Geta caught.

He met her eyes again and smiled cruelly, " what conquered land are you from?"

" Gaul." 

"Ah, a beauty from Gaul. Faunus always knows how to please me," he exclaimed with a clap that reverberated off the impossibly tall ceilings. She winced at the sound, the nausea and nervousness ever mounting in her stomach. 

"Albina... Albina.." he said to himself as if tasting the name.

He sat up very suddenly and smiled at her, "Now, I venture to guess that as a prize caught in Gaul.. your real name isn't Albina, is it?"

Aia said nothing and kept her face neutral. 

"What is your real name then?"

Aia again said nothing.

 " Tell me your real name, now."

She could see a flush of anger rise in his face as he stared her down. 

"Guard!" he shouted in an instant, causing Aia to nearly jump out of her skin.  

The sentry walked in and Geta beckoned him closer till he was whispering in the guard's ear. She could hear nothing but the sound of her heart beating wildly.

Geta dismissed the guard who then took Aia by the arm, leading her hastily out.

Had she sealed her fate?

Tagging @bridgertonbee1814 and @quuinyoung

Let me know if anyone wants to be tagged for part 2.

[primebody1]

ultra lift facial

Based in beautiful Agoura Hills, Prime Body Sculpting helps clients from throughout the Greater Los Angeles area benefit from the latest and best in nonsurgical facial rejuvenation and body contouring procedures. We are here to help our clients make the most of their appearance without the difficulty, expense, or risk of surgical approaches. Today, Prime Body Sculpting is a leader in the use of nonsurgical body and facial solutions in Southern California. We are proud to offer skilled and friendly service in a relaxing, spa-like atmosphere to people who are ready to take advantage of the latest non surgical procedures. OUR SERVICES ULTRASONIC CAVITATION, Lipo Light, THERMA LIFT, ULTRA LIFT, NANO NEEDLING, BOTOX, RF MICRONEEDLING (VirtueRF), Kybella, FILLERS, Laser Hair Removal,

Contact Us https://www.primebodysculpting.com/ (833)3289376 28720 Roadside Dr Suite 356 Agoura Hills, CA 91301 info@primebodysculpting.com

[aquagirl1978]

Thank you so so much for this event Is so amazing and compliment for the followers you fully deserve it ;D For now I would like to request Jean Touches #11 🌶 and Vlad kisses #13 🌶, hoping they are all right with you I can't wait to read all your marvelous drabbles *^* have a nice day 😘😘

Thank you for the request! It's a few days late, but Happy Belated Birthday, my friend! Hope you enjoy this little gift!

Happy Birthday - Jean d'Arc x Reader (Ikemen Vampire)

Pairing: Jean d'Arc x Reader

Prompt: putting their head on the other’s chest 

Warnings: NSFW; Minors - DNI

The water was warm and soothing after a day of adventure; for your birthday, Jean had taken you to some of his favorite spots in town, ending the trip with a picnic in the field of lilies complete with a basket full of mararons. It was Jean’s suggestion that you visit le Thermae prior to retreating to bed. Enjoying the view from your spot, you watched as your lover entered the pool, groaning as his body touched the water.  

Jean’s groan was loud; it was a glorious groan, delicious even. You imagined briefly the other things he could be doing to cause such a groan to escape his soft lips. Feeling your face flush, you quickly looked away, burying those thoughts deep in your belly. 

Jean joined you by the edge of the water; he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close for a kiss. Leaning into his kiss, your tongue met his; he tasted sweet, the mararons you shared earlier still lingering on his lips. A seductive smirk adorned his beautiful face as his hand quickly wandered, sliding along your slick thigh. 

Slipping a finger between your thighs, Jean watched as soft moans escaped your lips; eyes half-lidded, head tilted, you were at his mercy as he dipped another finger inside, slowly stretching you. Teasing your nipple with his thumb, he dipped his head to the soft curve of your neck, nipping at your skin leaving a trail of biting kisses, gently soothing them with his tongue. 

Strong arms lifted you, shifting you onto his lap, your knees straddling his legs. “That’s better, my love,” he growled against your skin, his teeth grazing your sensitive collarbone. Removing his fingers, you whimpered, his fingers leaving a desperate emptiness; moving his hand to your hip, his fingers dug into your soft skin as he pulled you closer, his cock teasing your slit.  

Rubbing your body against his, your eyes met his vivid violet, tender and filled with love; the curve of his smile seductive, whispers of want breathing on his lips. His lips met yours in a deep kiss, his mouth swallowing your moans as he guided you over his slick cock; fingers pressing on your hips as you sunk onto him, his full length easily sliding inside you.  

Your bodies rocked against one another; gentle waves lapped against your skin, its heat heightening your sensations. Clinging to his shoulders, he slowly thrust into you; with each stroke pleasure built, a fire raging inside your core. 

As Jean’s movements became erratic, his groans grew louder. Enjoying his sounds, knowing you were the sole cause, you rocked your body harder against his, the waves building and building until cresting and crashing, flooding your body with blissful euphoria. 

Gathering you in his arms, he cradled your head close to his chest, the sounds of his heartbeat calming and soothing. He kissed the top of your head, whispering words of love and adoration as drifted peacefully to sleep in your protector’s arms. 

Tagging: @alixennial @redheadkittys @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @atelier-maroron @rhodolitesrose @ikehoe @kpop-and-otome @lucyw260 @queengiuliettafirstlady @kisara-16 @lordsisterxotome @violettduchess

[thecaptdynamite]

Golden Lily Cafe, Chapter 2. Chocolate Chip Cookies

Jaune was working on his normal morning routine. He'd wake up. Make breakfast for himself and Lily, and then prep for the morning rush.

Today was particularly different because it was Friday, and at his Café he had a theme for Fridays, which were known as 'Cozy Days'.  He would make primarily hot food and warm pastries, but he realized one thing, he needed an extra hand. 

Along the window of the cafe, a help wanted sign sat. He had interviewed a few people, any while there was nothing particularly wrong with them, Jaune didn't want to hire just anyone. At least not yet.

It was 5 AM, and Jaune had 2 hours to prep for open. So he went to work.  He began preparing and heard a knock at the glass window. The man there wore a hoodie that had the hood up. Jaune, having some experience with combat,  went to open the door but was on guard.

Jaune: "Can I help you? We don't open for a good hour and a half."

???: "Hiya, I'm actually interested in the hiring position, I'm experienced in baking and really need the money." He revealed the hood, and Jaune immediately recognized him.

Jaune: "No way.. RJ? (I like OC's don't judge)."

The stranger cocked an eyebrow, but once Jaune turned on the light, his face showed more.

RJ: "Holy shit! What's up, homie!" He grabbed Jaune into a bear hug. He lifted and spun him around. "Oh my Oum, Jaune, what are you doing here?!"

Jaune: "I'm the owner, I was in Beacon, but things well didn't work out. So my folks helped me out, and we were able to open shop."

RJ: "That's awesome, man. I'm glad to hear things are going great. So about that job." The two laughed as Jaune let him in.

Timeskip~

RJ was behind the counter. Though there wasn't a uniform, he wore an apron over his clothes, which consisted of a work shirt, shorts, and a pair of brown boots.

Jaune: "Alright, you can wear the apron. You pass the basics." He chuckles as RJ just gives a 'aiight man' face.

RJ: "So, what do you need me to do? I can cook, clean, I don't know much about drinks, but you could teach me.

Jaune: "Actually, I need a baker, and if I remember, you make some damn good cookies."

RJ: "Say no more, little homie." He puts on a hat and turns it backwards. He walks to the kitchen to make a batch of cookies.  After about an hour, he walks out with a tray and a jar of cookies.

RJ: "Viola, Crispy Chewy Cookies, ready to go. Would you care to be the judge."

Jaune: "Why I'd love to -"

Lily: "Papa?" They both look over to see Lily, wearing her pajamas and holding a stuffed animal. "Something smells really good."

Jaune: "Oh, I think we found our tester." He picks up Lily, and RJ looks at the two with a cocked eyebrow.

RJ: "Ummmm homie, when did you have a kid?" 

Jaune: "Oh, I adopted her about 2 months ago. This is Lily, the one I named the cafe after.

Lily looked at the new man in front of them, and she felt a calming presence.

Lily: "He... Hello." She gave a faint wave. After all, she was still nervous meeting new people.

RJ: "Hey, little one, I'm friends with your dad." She stuck his hand out to shake. "It's nice to meet you, little buddy." He gave a smile, and Lily reached out, shaking his hand. After she let go, he handed her a cookie. "Would you like to try."

She nodded and took the cookie away gently. Taking a small nibble out of it.

Lily: "Whoa...." She stared into space eating. "THIS IS AWESOME UNCLE!"

RJ: "Hrkkk!" He clutches his chest. "Jaune... she's too dangerous..."

Jaune: "I know. But I will protect her til I die." 

As they continued on, RJ baked and prepared some soups and sandwiches. Then 7 struck, and the morning rush came.

First up was the regular.

Oobleck: "Hello there Jaune, I'm glad to see the shop is running smooth."

Jaune handed the thermas back to his old professor.

Jaune: "Well, Doc, with you coming every morning almost, I'm not too worried about that." He smiled as Oobleck chuckled. He looked back as RJ was bringing out a fresh batch of cookies. The smell was intoxicating to everyone who loved sweets.

Oobleck: "My word, can I add about a dozen of those cookies? They smell delightful."

RJ: "I'm glad you like them, I'm still working on some test batches for a cappuccino cookie with espresso in the frosting." With that, Oobleck looked directly at Jaune.

Oobleck: "Keep this man." He grabbed his bag and waved at the two. "I'll be back again! Take care you two, and say Hello to Lily for me!" He zoomed off and headed to Beacon.

-with Oobleck

As the doctor made it to his classroom, he was drinking his coffee and had a cookie with it. The melt taste of both semi sweet and milk chocolate filled him with joy.

???: "Mmmm, what's that smell?!" He looked over to see Ruby, leader of team RWBY.

Oobleck: "Ahh, Ms. Rose, these are some cookies I got from a cafe downtown. Would you care to try one.

Ruby: "Okay!" She took the cookie and ate it. Suddenly, Ruby felt like she was flying through space. The planets she'd never known flew by her as she had an out of body experience.  She flew back to her body and felt like she found God. "DOCTORWHEREDIDYOUFONDTHESECOOKIESINEEDTHEM!"

Oobleck, being one of the only people who could understand high-frequency speech, pried her hands off of him.

Oobleck: "Well, Ms Rose, it's from a cafe in downtown Vale, called the Golden Lily. You can check it out tomorrow if you'd like."

Ruby nodded, and Mach sped and flew to her seat. Ready to get through the day.

With Jaune-

Jaune was finished up some orders suddenly a chill ran up his spine, making him stare off into space.

RJ: "Ay, you good?"

Jaune: "I feel like something very dangerous is coming tomorrow, I'm not sure what, though."

Lily and RJ looked at each other and shrugged, and went back to their things.

[yanderepuck]

Kinktober Day 4

Welcome to Kinktober. I will be following @xxsycamore otome Visions of Temptation 2021 Kink List. I hope to write a little bit of something for each day, so lets see how it goes.

SIDE NOTE!!! I only write the reader/mc as female. The only guy on guy I write is when its ship related.

4. Shower sex | Bath sex

You were finally finished with your chores for the day and after all that you just wanted to relax in the thermae. There's normally no one in there at this time, so you didn't feel like you had to worry about any of the guys coming in and disturbing your quite time. You walked in with a towel mostly covering you, and it wasn't until you got to the edge of the bath that you realized you weren't alone.

Luckily it was only Dazai. It's been a while since they two of you have bathed together. You're normally so busy and Dazai is off doing something. You put the towel down and got in.

"Dazai!" you came up behind him, basically jumping on his back and you gave his cheek a kiss. You happened to catch him off balance the two of you went tumbling backwards underwater.

It took you a moment to realize what happened and to get back to the surface, and as soon as you came up Dazai splashed you with water.

"Aww, did I scare you?"

"What? No you didn't. You just caught me off guard," he pouted, you defiantly scared him a little.

You went back over to him and gave him a kiss on the lips. "Admit it. I scared you," you poked his chest and laughed.

"You wish you did," he then wrapped his arms around you, ever so slightly lifting you out of the water and tossing you.

The two of you treated the thermae more as a swimming pool than a bath. So much for quite time.

He got a little concered when you didn't come back up right away. "Huh? Toshiko-san?" He started to make his way over to where he tossed you, which wasn't far.

You decided to stay underwater and when you were close enough, you grabbed his ankle, and this time he jumped. You came up to the surface laughing. "Got you!"

Dazai lets out a groan. " Toshiko-san is so mean to me."

"Come on. Let me hear you say my name. You couldn't stop saying it the other night."

Dazai grabbed you again. "Don't throw me again! I'm sorry!" you clung onto him. He wasn't holding you like he was going to throw you though. His hands were under you and just holding you close.

You might have also been close simply because you wrapped your legs around his torso and your arms around his neck. But he wasn't going to let you go.

"You're so cute, Toshiko-san," he smiled while you pouted. He didn't let you go as he walked to the edge of the thermae. There was a ledge underwater to sit on. So while he sat there he kept you on his lap.

You finally let yourself relax and leaned against him. The water was warm but he felt even warmer. You gave him a kiss on the lips, but Dazai decided not to break it. His hands rested on your hips, keeping you down on his lap. You could feel him getting hard so you let a hand slip between you two and wrapped your hand around him.

His breathing hitched between the kisses. You worked him slowly, stroking him just slow enough to drive him crazy. He moaned into your mouth and lifted you up just a little.

You knew what he was doing, but the sensation of being filled up still made you gasp. You rocked your hips back and forth and your nails dug into his back.

~~~

Writers note/comments: Can I please pick neither. WATER IS NOT LUBRICATE. ITS ACTUALLY THE OPPOSITE TBH. Slipping during Shower sex should be the least of your worries. Sex in water really isn't as fun as it sounds, alright. In theory, great, amazing, hot. In reality, don't

[pseudofaux]

hello lovely person! happy birthday once again!! 💖💖 i hope i'm not too late for a random bunch of Leo (i know, very surprising) questions? ; v ; if not, here they are: what kind of dom do u think he'd be? what he'd think about creampies? and what would be a position he'd enjoy a lot? thank youu! much love! ´ ヮ `

Hello lovelier person! ♥️♥️😚 Thank you! You 100% got this in on time and I am EXCITED that you did. These are great questions! You are great!

Absolutely all of this has to go under a cut.

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ꇴ⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

Leo is an engaged, silky, coaxing Dom. Unlike Sebastian, he has no sharp words for you. He’s going to convince you to do everything he wants without them. Instead, he issues lots of tease-y challenges to push your limits, especially with exhibition, and pretty much tells you what he’s going to do without asking. He’ll get you leaning on a balcony railing some afternoon, overlooking a crowded afternoon tea in the garden pavilion, and convince you out of the side of his mouth that you really, really need to let him lift the back of your skirts and press the pad of his middle finger against you however he likes (he likes best of all to press the hole that makes you jump a little). He’s not going to do anything you hate but he’ll do a lot that exasperates you! None of his persuasive power is vampiric, it’s just him. And you. Between you there is a strange, sensual magic that makes him tease and push you, and makes you like it. He fucks you against a lot of walls out and about in Paris, and though sex at home is a slow, lasting activity, he’s quick when you’re not home... unless you seem so nervous about being caught that you’re not really paying attention to what he’s doing. Then he has to slow down despite (to spite) your nerves, bring your focus to his face, and hold your eye contact and guide your breath until you are ready to moan like a woman instead of whine like a baby. That’s it, cara. Calmati. Senti tutto. You know that his bulk must cover you from any would-be onlookers, but he’s so noisy with his grunting, his belt buckle clinking, that makes-you-shiver intimate voice calling you endearments and shamelessly describing how you feel... there’s no way anyone who just happened upon the alley would mistake what he was doing. He’s the type of Dom that overwhelms you. He’ll always, always take care of you and keep you safe, but your heart will race and he will enjoy it.

Considering his incredibly frustrating, some might say “stupid” concerns about making you a vampire, he’s got practically none about making you una madre. He doesn’t cum outside you unless you ask him to, and while sometimes after sex at home he just wants to hold you, feel your pulse slow and your body cool, other times he gives in to the urge to watch his spend dribble, slide, and bubble out of you. His lust for that might only be second to his lust for you, to be honest. And he doesn’t want to just watch, of course, he wants to observe. He wants to do a few experiments. How long does it take to come out if you’re relaxed, how quickly can you squeeze it out of yourself? Does a streak of it on each of your thighs dry at the same speed? How much was there, on that afternoon when your body felt so heavenly? How much of it is him and how much of it is you, do you think? You keeping mio bambino in there, now, amate? He offers to let you lay in the tiny bed and relax, let him clean you... you could do it much faster yourself, but the man is so damn good you’re usually too fucked out to deny him his fun.

🎵 Deeper, deeper, I need a reaper — Megan thee Stallion

He likes any position that makes you cry out—again, his style is to overwhelm you, push you until all your mental walls and manners and worries are gone, or at least fall somewhere below what he’s doing to you— but prefers to be giving it to you rather than the other way around. Aside from hoisting you up for all that wall sex in every arrondissement, he’s going to go for grinding positions (where he can be a little lazy, lol, his knees and arms take all his weight. He just has to move his ass and tease you, sometimes eternity is bliss!), and other ways that he can get in deep, let you breathe, and then press even deeper. If he was feeling a little more active (or just territorial in Comte’s house 🙃) he’d go for something like this, so your bodies can be woven together and he can enjoy the cushions raising you right up every time he draws back:

Also all kinds of ridiculous arrangements in the thermae, where the water supports you both and the acoustics are divine. 💦 Particularly enjoys fucking you in the warm water and then pausing to lay you out on your back on the cool tiles to shock you, and then fucking you through that shock. An arm under one of your legs to open you wide for him, your muscles tense to try to save you from the slippery chill below you... Sporca, sporca, and so loud, cara, you want them all to come see?

(WHY IS HE???????? 🥵 Thank you, Vaiva! ♥️♥️♥️)

[ikevamp-shrine]

C, F, Y for Napoleon? 🥺🥺

Sorry it took so long. Requests are still open. I am still doing the abcs game. Thank you for requesting and I hope you like it. I know your emperor did😂.

C= Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

One of his greatest accomplishments is to see you writhing under him, your legs spread wide, core fluttering and clenching around nothing as he slides out of your spasming muscles to watch his pearly white cum dribble out of you mixing with the juices of your own pleasure. 

The heat was practically unbearable as Napoleon thrust in and out of your dripping wet core. His balls slapped wildly against your flesh, the sweat from his own skin racing down his straining muscles that rippled and clenched with each roll of his hips. He looked... powerful... between your legs. Your thighs squeezed the curve of his waist, the tight grip of his calloused hands gripping your hips to raise them off the silky sheets below your heaving bodies. A whimper tumbled past your swollen lips as Napoleon’s vigorous pace faltered, a wanton, low moan penetrated the air emitting from the former emperor. Napoleon’s breath panted across your skin as he curled over your body, your heels digging into the dimples above his ass to spur him to go faster. 

“...merde,” he hissed, your nails leaving trails of bright red claw marks against his back, the headboard of his bed banging loudly against the wall to insure the rest of the men in the mansion knew exactly who you belonged to.

“I’m... almost,” continued Napoleon. You knew what he meant. The dirty, wet squelching noises your heat made burned at your cheeks in a fiery blush that Napoleon peppered feather light kisses over; his tongue darting out every so often to lap at the salty, slickness of your skin.

Your teeth traced the curve of his shoulder, nails slithering up his chest to scratch over his hardened nipple causing Napoleon to growl out in pleasure. He fasten his pace. Your lower back strained as you tightened your body to take his thrust. His grunts and moans floated over your ear lobe as his pleasure built to unimaginable heights.

“Ah!”

Napoleon groaned, almost collapsing on top of you as his thick, white cum painted your spasming walls. He heaved from the blinding pleasure gripping at his flushed body. Slowly rising from his hunched position, Napoleon shivered while pulling his throbbing cock from your tight embrace, marveling at how his essence slowly dribbled out and slid between the bright red curves of your cheeks.

“You’re beautiful mon amour.”

The husk of his voice and wide blow of his pupils made a light chuckle escape you, your palm coming to rest against his swollen, bruised lips, a soft smile gracing your creatures as you whispered, “you as well mon coeur.”

F= Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Napoleon was an emperor- this much is known- so, he is no stranger to being in control, but sometimes he likes to be the one to dominated. He takes pride in pleasuring you and seeing the fruits of his efforts plastered across your whimpering face as you give all of yourself to him. But, but- seeing you wildly ride him, his hands gliding up the soft curve of your hips, your palms placed firmly against his chest as you pant for release is his favorite. He loves seeing you take control and use him to fulfill your every desire. He loves feeling the weight of your body slap against his while your jaw tightens and hair bounces around you. He loves to see you ride him like the (queen/king) you truly are.

Y= Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s safe to say Napoleon is one of the most horniest men in the mansion. Every chance he can get his hands on you he will take. He doesn’t exactly hide his want for you either. What can you say? He’s possessive when it comes to you- which can result in heated moments of lust in the most unusual places.

“Again?” You questioned, Napoleon’s lips latching onto yours once more as your back hit the cool tiling of the therma walls, “we just... did this... three hours ago.”

“I missed you,” Napoleon groaned, lifting your leg to wrap around his waist, the tip of his fangs peeking out from his lips, “I missed your lips,” he continued tugging off your bottoms, “I missed your moans,” your underwear was pulled aside as his fingers slowly slid into you, his raspy, needy moans slithering over your collarbone just like his tongue, “I missed pounding into you as you lose the will to form complete words.”

You could hear the light splashing of water just a few meters away from you causing your blood to run cold.

“Leon’- ah... there’s someone in here.” Your eyes rolled closed at the sounds of the former emperor’s belt buckle clanking.

He chuckled lowly, his erection teasing the fluttering entrance of your hole, “be quiet then.”

SHOTS MATERLISTS

MASTERLIST

ABCs SMUT MASTERLIST