#and that's enough to fuck with anyone's head

[hoodzgyal]

Wdyt Bruce, Clark, dick and Jason would be like with a virgin?

ok i lurvvvvvvv asks like thissss alr alr let’s go down the line.

bruce is an expert at reading your body language. he’s comforting in the sense that his voice assuages all the thoughts in your head. he’s a master at taking on that more dominant role so you can sink into submission. aftercare king by the way.

clark is honestly more afraid than you are. constantly checking on you, giving you the most gentle, slow strokes ever. he’s shocked at his own patience because you’re so, so wet, and so, so tight, and he’s fighting the urge not to manhandle you. will give you head before and after he fucks you.

dick is the ideal virgin killer. kind, suave, but also emotionally intelligent enough to know when you need some sweet words whispered in your ears so you’ll get out of that pretty little head of yours. he’s slow at first, but as soon as you show him you want to take it all, he’s quick to satisfy. a people pleaser through and through.

jason is realllyyyyy weird about taking your virginity. (he doesn’t wanna defile you but he also doesn’t want anyone else doing it in his place. it’s not you, it’s The Trauma talking.)

because of this, it takes at least 3 different attempts for him to even indulge in putting his dick in you. once he’s on you though, it’s hard to get him off. even if it was a one time thing, you’ll be thinking about it for years.

[kooyabooya]

INSIGHT

m reader x gaeul // 17k words

It’s not much to unpack: the findings or purpose one pursues. You know this. Everybody’s different, and that’s not limited to the sex - it also accounts for the experiences and connections you make with someone, exploring the limitless possibilities of what or who you want in your life. You’ve been told that the ‘one’ might be out there and have yet to realize it. No one could ever really pin it down to one reason. 

But what’s there to overreact about? You’re a hopeless romantic. 

Okay. To backtrack on the hopeless romantic thing, that’s not entirely true; you’re on the eve of something big here, and the intuition is approaching that conclusion by the second. 

None of this should be that easy from the get-go. Delving into casual conversation to the nice meals and then the eventual ditziness finds you and her on the bed of fucking each other’s brains out until one of you is practically paralyzed from the waist down. That’s the essential beauty of it, right? The hints and signals are right in front of your face; all it takes is a simple notice of interest that can lead anyone to think if they feel the same way. 

You’re not entirely sure, but taking this date with a grain of salt was the best course of action to follow. Besides, it’s too early to delude yourself into thinking about a future with Gaeul. 

(Though, it’s worth noting: 

She never coined it to be a date; said that it was too direct on the nose. In all fairness, you just needed a plus one to tag along with you. It could’ve been anybody else, but Gaeul was the first person to come to mind. You and her have similar interests - a point of connection strong enough to expand on. She didn’t mind keeping you company, and the fact that she was willing to circles your mind far longer than it should’ve.) 

Which brings you to here: standing in front of a timely art piece that looks to be dated from the 1600s. Or- at least that’s what the plaque says on the bottom left corner of the frame. However, you also feel like the people in the room with you are also playing their role like they do in those typical romance movies or serial dramas. You also begin to wonder if people go to an art museum in their free time just to look at fine pieces curated by people who have an obsession for old pictures or to dress up to match the aesthetic and pretend that they know what the hell they’re talking about. 

Given how you’ve dressed up for the occasion, they’d probably be right.

Gaeul herself matches the look so well. Her stilettos are one thing, but the bright-colored skirt along with her high socks are doing wonders for highlighting her legs, with her old-fashioned pink top that looks to be from the Victorian era simply bolsters the elegance past your personal rating scale. She’s also got her slightly-thick-rimmed glasses and the low braided ponytail wrapped in a small bow at the end. You can’t deny it, she’s gorgeous. The kind of girl that’s hard to come by and you’ve struck yourself out of the ballpark by getting her here. She walks at a pace, her strut consistent and punctuated with the way her feet are carrying her. It doesn’t help with the fact that you keep thinking about how you’d hold her hanging ponytail when her head is between your legs, or how she’d let you take off her socks with solely your teeth and show that you do more than just run your mouth. You stand behind her by a few inches and just watch that amazing side profile of hers, molded and chiseled by God himself. 

Her eyes stay fixed on the piece in front of her. Blinking. Examining. You resist the urge to stand behind her and bury your nose in the back of her head. 

You look away for a second only to hear her sigh, and watch as her arms cross over her middle. The stance alone can tell you that she’s the kind of girl that will do damage to you whether you like it or not. 

“I don’t know,” says Gaeul, looking left to notice you approach her left side, pointing her lips back to the art piece as you give it a fraction of your attention - staring at Gaeul with the corner of your eyes, thinking of all the ideas your hands could have on her pretty face, her small hands, lifting her by the waist when she hugs you. “This isn’t the actual ‘Starry Night’ painting, is it?” 

You laugh, because the question itself was supposed to be rhetorical. “No, it is. Not a replica. The real thing.” 

“No, but look,” Gaeul slips her hand around your arm and pulls you closer while she points out to the painting again with her finger. You’ve had crushes on girls throughout high school and college, but there’s a sense of a pull here that’s different from the rest. “This is something that you would do, hm?” 

You lean more closely at the painting and feel her face rest along the line of your upper arm. The picture itself was a mix of these yellow circles over a blue canvas - you think - has to do something about admiring the view that nature presents, which explains the artist’s approach with the usage of the abnormal brushstrokes. “Right.” You get the underlying appeal of the painting’s message, that’s for sure. 

Gaeul giggles, humming a sound too elegant and pretty for its own sake. You’re playing it cool as best you can. It’s a lot to keep track of her sparkling eyes so full of you within them that you’re nervous to even speak a coherent sentence. She looks dangerously good in her outfit: hugging the curves, the collars and ends of her sleeves dancing in these wavy, coquettish lines. That hint of lace she’s wearing is also cute - only for it to be outshined by her exposed collarbones and neck. 

(So, you might be insane here. Try acting differently about it all you want. It’s no use.)

Gaeul then looks at the art piece adjacent to the right - twists her head behind, eyeing the walkway, her gaze now matching yours, cocking her head to the side with her lips pursed. 

“Hmm?” she hums, innocently. There’s a minute tug at the corners of her mouth, a small smile. Her teeth start to peek under her upper lip. 

You’re holding your breath here for a second or two longer. 

“Uh, I didn’t say anything,” you tell her, pulling your lips inward to hide your returning smirk. 

Before you and her move to the next room, you’ve deduced that a woman like Gaeul is no mere anomaly. She is intangible, quixotic, reserved, sensible, and the kind of person who doesn’t let anyone get too close for her comfort. There’s a motivation to be seen with her, the way that her grin and shrug of her singular shoulder gives you the implication that she’s into you. Your gaze goes inquisitive when she’s sashaying timidly further and further away from your sight. 

–

Let’s take a step back here - go to the drawing board, make a new page. There’s substantial progress here. It wouldn’t hurt anyone to have your input solicited. 

Gaeul looks through her handbag, pulls out various items, puts on hand cream and retouches the makeup on her face. You’re on the other end of the table, watching her, listening to the guy nearby do a fantastic take of Take Five on the saxophone with flying colors. Gaeul’s also waving her head from side to side, closing her eyes with a soft smile spread across her lips implying that she likes the music. 

As for the art museum trip itself, you don’t take anything away from what you were supposed to look at and write down - probably because the focus shifted from taking notes to getting a conversation going with Gaeul whenever she was curious about a certain piece or at least your interpretation of what work itself. One of the other pieces that you and her take notice of was from your courses that you don’t remember learning a mere inkling about. A piece from the romanticism era revolved around these two lovers, one of them being madly in love while the other is still trying to figure out their feelings and desires, or vice versa; it may be unappealing for your outlook in artistry, but once you saw the meaning behind the paintbrush and use of strokes, the feeling hits too close to home. 

“From this artwork, what do you want us to take away from it,” someone probably asked back then - the same kind of question that earns a few eye rolls and those heavy sighs used to hide the bubbling frustration within, gets a good number of people scratching the back of their head - though nobody answers it right away unless it’s the professor. 

“Well, that’s not for me to decide,” the professor answers, earning a subtle nod of the head by her, the way the shade of her hair shimmers in the room and how it flows at the turn of her head, glimpses of her skin for you to admire once she has nothing left to say, almost like she was speaking those words to you - waiting for your answer. “The personal interpretation of the painting has to be discovered on your own.” 

In a way, he has a valid point. He’s knowledgeable enough to know what he preaches. He’s passionate about this course alone and it really could take a simple business pitch with a pen to get on board with what he’s selling. 

You have an idea of what message he’s trying to get across, but maybe you’ve got it all mixed up in between still. 

–

The groove of discovery isn’t a straightforward, linear path. Some days your understanding is there, and other times it’s all up in the air; you’re stopping by a food truck near some plaza in the early hours of the evening off the gut feeling that it just feels right; you also find yourself staring at her wide eyes when she gets the first taste of those potato chips she convinced you to buy, wiping a corner of her lips with her tongue. 

It’s almost too good to be true, honestly, that she’s sitting next to you at a park bench as the sky above is painted in these hues of purple and orange to reflect off the sunset, her appearance mimicking royalty and you - her knight in shining armor. She looks up to the sky before offering you her bag of chips, the tilt of her head and how she blinks is so - unbelievably enchanting like she’s unintentionally guilt-tripping you even though you’ve done nothing wrong at all. You take up on her offer, keep a mental note of how she’s so attentive in the way that your hands move and the way that your lips punctuate each letter and phrase so eloquently. Her bottom lip is pulled back into her mouth, holding the foil in her fingers so delicately. 

You can easily tell. She’s enamored; she keeps hitting your arm lightly and plays along with your inside jokes; there’s also that smirk she does in embarrassment and tries to hide away from but you’re still staring at her anyway. 

She stays close to you. Comfortable. Exactly the way you want her to be. You could kiss here right and now and she might be okay with it. You’ll try it eventually, because why not? 

Later, Gaeul walks slightly ahead of you, turns around, and takes your hands in hers, standing on her tiptoes to somewhat match your height. “I’m curious about your eyes, how they look,” she says, not that she meant for it to be embarrassing, but something that she’s noticed the first time and now she can’t ignore it. “They’re enchanting.” 

“Your smile,” you say back. She flashes that exact smile, wearing it with pride. “I like when you smile that way.” 

“My smile is always like this.” 

You sweep her off her feet and twirl yourself around. A finger pulls some of her hair behind her ear, grazing a thumb across her temple, careful enough to not ruin the surface. 

Gaeul looks up. Her head leans into the touch of your hand, inviting. 

This is where it all starts; a genesis of sorts: you drink in the sight of how she is right now, half-lidded eyes, her hands slipping behind to the back of your neck, pulling you in; you, leaning into her body, hands sliding and dipping to the curves where she wants you to hold, keep her in your grasp and unravel her bit by bit; it’s fine to be skeptical, figuring out something new is all part of the learning process. 

You turn your imagination into a reality when you finally kiss her. 

The pull of her into you elicits this gentle hum rumbling within her lips. Given how her fingertips were clawing into your scalp for a second there, she didn’t even put up a fight to begin with. 

The realization of losing her also sets in for a quick moment, the silence alone holding out for longer than it initially should. She continues to blink, teeth capturing the upper profile of her lip just slightly. You might be a bit too forward, but you’re waiting to see what she thinks before you consider dialing it back. 

“That’s not fair-” she stutters, tongue to the inside of her cheek, laughing and then tapping your shoulder soon after. “Normally, I- I’d hold out until we got a little farther with how things are currently.” You also notice that she’s not opting to be let go from your touch, or give you this look of confusion with wide-open eyes or a hand covering her mouth. Her fingertip traces along her lips, internalizing what had just happened. “Don’t tell me you’ve been wanting to do that since the second you saw me earlier. ‘Cause if you were, then I’m in really deeper shit than I expected.” 

“Might be right,” you mumble. “Sorry, I’m not the kind of person to half-ass things. Not my style.” 

“Troublesome,” Gaeul whispers across your lips. You steal a kiss from her again, and this time she gives you a shocked expression. “Hey, again-” 

You’re laughing, rightfully so. She’s pulled into your arms as you spin her around - hearing her laugh also when she’s cradling your head, bringing her back down to earth only for her to kiss you the next second, with more force and tongue. She doesn’t stop there. She keeps on kissing, prompting you to give a fair fight. It’s free reign for her - first, the cheek, then the line of your jaw, and the spot where your chin and neck meet that sends your mind reeling. 

Gaeul then takes one more kiss before the bus makes its eventual stop, pulling you by the wrist to get inside and take one of the seats at the end of the car, away from whoever might take notice. From there she picks up where she left off; her legs are swung over yours, her fingers keep your head in place as she’s placing these sweaty kisses all over your face once more, causing you to rope her in and slide a hand underneath her shirt to her chest. 

“Putting the effort where it counts, huh?” she says when you shift her hips closer to yours. Her giggles are also so pretty that it matches the hot blush colored across her face. 

You look over to the rest of the bus, take into account that there was one other person on the opposite end towards the front with their back turned. “Did you have any other place in mind where you want me to do this?” 

“No,” Gaeul responds with an absorbed smirk. “Not at all, I like what you’re doing so far,” she’s telling you, upholding with a press of her forehead against yours. “It’s riling me up a bit, actually.” 

“Oh? That so?” 

Gaeul nods, leaning in for a much softer peck this time, wiping a wisp of your hair. “Don’t be shy, keep going.” 

You blink twice at the surprising request, figuring out how to handle this situation - let alone what to say or even do at this point. All of that doesn’t matter when all she wants is you. One second later you’re kissing her again - with much more force through every passing press of your lips until the only thing that she can manage is to tilt her chin up and keep on receiving. Two more pecks couldn’t hurt, and she’s giggling when her hand’s patting your chin, kissing her palm to return the favor. 

“How am I doing now?” You ask her again, pressing another kiss to her neck right where the pulse courses rapidly underneath. 

Gaeul’s breaths here are dragged out and unshackled; you’re already thinking ahead of what she’ll sound like when she’s reduced to a moaning mess asking for more. She’s on track there but it’ll take a little bit. She nods - and holds your head at bay, “Okay.” That first response is controlled, feeling out the situation. “Okay,” she repeats, her teeth are peeking out across that pretty little mouth of hers. The hum in her throat drops an octave: “you’re doing really good.” 

Like you needed any other form of implication; the way that she’s playfully scratching your scalp, eagerly leaning for another kiss, this is good stuff you’re doing. Stay in the pocket with her, and continue doing those same things. 

You have to hear that sound from her again. No. You need to hear that sound come out of that sweet mouth, as you slide your hand between her closed legs - pull her closer, closer - and get her within your reach once your palm slips beneath her skirt, feel the sudden hook of her arms around your neck keep her in place. She presses her legs together, trying to maintain the heat in her panties once your fingertips get their first touches. Gaeul hums into your lips, encouraging you, and gives the go-ahead as she opens the space wider in the middle of her thighs for you to capture - her body much rucked up against yours, trying so hard to not come loose. You’ll double down on the reassurance, that’s for sure. 

“Fingers, your fingers,” Gaeul grits, hissing; she’s unraveling. “Holy fuck-” 

Her fingers are well wrapped to the nape of your neck. You can see her brows furrowed together - the lines of her face crinkling; only for them to disappear entirely, relaxed. She forgets about reality for a moment when you slot your lips perfectly with hers, sinking two of your fingers right down the knuckle of her sopping cunt. You watch as she looks down, lips parted to an ‘o’ shape. 

“Fuck, that’s-” she’s babbling, putting her mouth back up with yours - forcing down a moan into your throat, trying to figure out the next thing to say. “Forget what I said, that’s amazing.” 

She pulls her in close as much as possible, hips bucking and jerking when your fingers glide gently between her folds, at the slit. It’s worth noting that the gentler your strokes are, the worse it is for her - so you keep the pace slow for now, waste as much time as you can, dip a finger inside, and focus on the graveled breathing by her through every passing second. 

“You like that, hm?” You’re telling her. “Gotta say, you’re fucking wet.” 

Gaeul tenses her shoulders. “I know,” she whispers, thighs closing around your hand. You’re kissing her again - open tongue and head tilted back when you bring another digit into play - her moans are hot, curling your fingers inside and pressing at the clit to keep her from thinking straight, pressing at the hottest point in her body until Gaeul eventually buries herself in your neck, stifling her whimpers when she’s cumming all over your fingers. 

“Wow,” you say, breathlessly, smiling as she leans up gingerly to put a kiss to your chin, a job well done.

“Yeah,” mumbles Gaeul. “Yeah.” 

You look over to see the person sitting on the opposite end of the car, their back still turned and hunched over; you take that as a hint that they’re probably knocked out cold. Gaeul’s fingers pull your gaze back into her, her face hot pink. She’s got this lazy smile spread on her lips, breathing with her hand palmed to your cheek, eyes dazed and out of focus. 

You then decide that you can’t help yourself anymore. Laying her down on the seat and eating her pussy out right here. You can’t stop thinking about it, looking up as her upper half crumbles while she cums on your face. She can try to make you stop if her brain isn’t partly mush, can try all she wants to stop you kissing from down her waist and into her thighs or wrapping your fingers around her legs once you’ve got your mouth clamped to her cunt like it’s nothing - you’ve got her laid back and relaxed, hands sliding south past her middle, thinking of all the pretty noises that you can squeeze from that heavenly voice of hers - Gaeul looks up once her hands meet yours at her hips, unwilling to let you go. 

You smile at her before you’re biting your lips without thinking twice. 

The way that she says your name too, does something to your brain, man. She needs you. 

You almost feel bad to be the one asking for permission first: 

“If I eat you out right here, Gaeul. Promise me that you’ll be quiet?” 

Gaeul’s mouth drops, before twisting into a devilish grin. 

She looks over to the same person you were looking at, lip captured by her teeth. “Worth a try,” she answers, still coming down from her high. Her eyes stay on you. The lust one can get is dangerously intoxicating - it may not look good on others, besides her - the shade of hot pink, her little swollen lips, the way that she has to use her fingernail to bite down. But her hand gently clutches your wrist. “Would you be nice if I said to go easy on me?” 

You snort at the question, only because her pleading eyes sell the whole deal to you anyway. 

“Asking a lot from me here, darling. No guarantees,” you tell her and descend between her spread legs. 

–

You keep spacing out since then: of her, the grip of her fingers deep in your hair; grinding her hips against your face as she’s trying to not yelp or shriek to not wake the poor guy sleeping - now completely giddy and well-relieved. She tried to crush your skull from the tongue fucking you were doing to her just ten or so minutes ago. Not to mention the cursing, it’s hard to believe she can say stuff like that. 

She also tells how thoughtful you are walking her back to her place; you know the area well enough to make your way back. You tell her that it’s nothing if anything, it was just more time to spend with you. 

Gaeul smiles at that, fixing up her hair like anyone would to keep her hands moving. Her eyes shoot towards the ground before they flashback up at you, which she’ll admit is a bit awkward for her standards. You can’t stop staring at her; she’s that pretty. It’d be worth preaching about for the rest of your life if it ever came to that. 

She hands you her phone and you’re doing the same -  a simple transaction. The subtle question of ‘it’s okay to call you on this, right?’ rolls off your teeth so easily to where Gaeul gives you a nod to answer. There’s a little bit of wiggle room to grow - filling in the gaps with details as we go - things that will be logged in eventually all with time. 

“I’ll be as blunt as possible: I want something fun,” she tells you as if she already had the general idea swirling around your head. Her fingers are fiddling with the zipper of your jacket. As if she wanted to say it differently but ended up with that. A lifeline or rope for you to hold on to - aware that the threads are tearing just a bit, but you’ll grab it anyway because you can. “I’ll bite at whatever you throw at me. Who knows, maybe I’ll do the same to even the odds.” 

Slapping a title or caption to this doesn’t always end well - if you’re gonna be honest, it’s impossible to tell whether or not it’ll go the way you hoped for. 

“You sure?” you’re asking, smiling. Since that’s the kind of trap that you were hoping to fall into anyway. In the face of love, you’ve always found yourself folding right at the first hurdle. 

Especially adding onto the fact that you and Gaeul have known each other to a slight degree; through mutuals, to be more specific. That’s one of the weird things that life can work with: instilling these thoughts about someone and telling them things knowing that it could all go wrong down the line; Gaeul rests her forearms on your shoulders, lets her fingers dance along the back of your head, and nod again with a yeah, you’re already infatuating to me as it already is. It’s so bad, she’s never dressed like this before when you’ve seen her with Liz or Wonyoung for that matter. Her chest and collarbones are out in the open air for you to mark up without remorse, tilting her head back with an arched eyebrow and sly smirk, don’t test me, because believe me, I’m gonna ruin your life from here on out. 

You may as well be far gone from the start. 

–

“It’s not that important,” you’re telling Gaeul over on FaceTime, tossing your phone onto the mattress and stretching out your limbs. Gaeul on the other end, groans in annoyance, though her voice is composed, playful. “I think we’re just stuck on a few things from what it looks like.” 

“But this project with Yujin is also one you mentioned a while back to me,” Gaeul responds, forehead filling the phone screen to check what you were doing, but all she sees is the ceiling. “What are you guys trying to achieve again?” 

“What would you do if you were assigned to discover a brand new constellation or galaxy all by yourself? You ask. “Spoiler alert: it’s a lot harder than it sounds.” 

“Maybe next time you should bring me to the observatory, that way I can see what it is you’re looking for,” Gaeul says with a lovely hum and laughs at the end of it.

She’s so cute when she’s playful; her voice alone is enough to make your brain chemistry go haywire. 

“Well, uh- you know Yujin,” you chuckle, shaking your head. “This is important to her. I honestly think that she’s trying to compartmentalize everyone that’s involved, which is a bit of an overreaction I think.” 

Gaeul then sighs, as if she too, is frustrated. “She’s a hard worker. From the outside looking in, maybe she just needs somebody to make her life interesting. Do you know what I mean? I think she’s sex deprived.” 

“You-” and you scrunch your nose, trying to hide a genuine laugh because you’ve been trying to say something along those lines to Yujin for god knows how long, and Gaeul flat-out said it in a matter of days. “You’re not wrong.” You then see her put the phone down facing up on the nightstand. “Her timetable is very slim, so I get why she can’t afford to have any distractions.” 

“Someone like her should always make time for sex.” 

“Are you always this forward?” 

“Not always, might be just for you.” 

“Consider me lucky,” you muse, tongue to the inside of your bottom lip. 

“You boys think of nothing else besides getting between a girl’s legs, huh?

Gaeuls face returns to the screen and all you give her is a pull of your lips inward. She nods when you don’t say anything, proving her suspicions right. You set her off to the side while you keep doing a separate thing to keep yourself occupied while she does the same. While you’re tending to your notes, you imagine Gaeul to be walking around her room; sitting on her bed, or moving to the bathroom or kitchen - keeping a close eye and ear on you and your voice because she’s got a fix on a few interests of yours that outweighs her own. She watches while you give her a few glances here and there. Staying on task was going to be difficult. You text her your address to pass the information without giving a reason as to why. You probably fucked up in that regard. You might’ve. 

(She puts a heart icon on the message to send your mind for a loop, telling you to think of it lightly; hey, show me what’s on the shelf behind you, see if you make your bed in the morning - and you’re carrying a conversation with her for more than an hour or so. She’s asking different kinds of questions; the ones that are along the lines of: How come you don’t have a roommate with you, where do you go for groceries, what’s the distance between your place and mine? The curiosity grows to uncover the mystery, you think. She’s laughing when you flash a look at her on the screen before you carry on with whatever task you are doing, acting all candidly when the both of you know well that you’re doing everything to not press the ‘end call’ button.)

“Wait,” Gaeul breathes, leaning closer through the phone screen. “Didn’t you offer to show me what you were working on over some food?” 

You’re side-eyeing away, hiding a smile. “I did mention that at the beginning but, yeah.” 

“Shoot, okay,” she huffs, dropping her face so that you only see the top of her head, pulling your lips inward to hide the smile. “How bout this: lace or no lace?” 

“Woah.” You freeze. “Hang on now.”

“Do you want me to explain it to you?” You could feel the slow-burning rush of heat spread across your cheeks. The phone screen flashes in your hand, and she chuckles. “Easy, cowboy. I know you want to jump the gun with me, but I just wanted to hear your thoughts before I do anything else.” 

You’re picturing it once she’s managed to break you, bending down to slip her panties back on, stretching the ends until she lets go and the fabric slaps along her skin. She can’t see it, but your mind goes under. When Gaeul presents it so innocently in the way that it is, it’s hard to believe that she’s able to bend your ego with a few simple words and actions. 

“The image of lace - on your body? I wouldn’t share that with anyone else.” 

She rolls her eyes, and hums a sing-song tone to tease you. “Alright, don’t tell me you’re getting hard just at the thought of that.” You drop your jaw and that earns you a deadpan. “Would you mind if I surprise you with a color of my choice?” 

“You know my color. Well- I don’t think too much of the color. I’m easy to impress,” you reply, nonchalant. 

“Oh, I can take my time with the color. It’s just a matter of how long you can hold out.” She’s not posing it as a threat, but the low tone in the delivery is enough to instill a small fear in the back of your mind. 

“Pfft, that doesn’t scare me.” 

“We’ll see about that. When do you want me to come?” she asks, genuinely. 

You make eye contact with her to ensure she’s serious. 

“I mean,” you start. The more your mouth freezes, the more embarrassing it gets. “Whenever you can. If you’re free.” 

Here, Gaeul tilts her head, confident smirk and tongue to her cheek. “Maybe my punishment is to make you wait. I don’t like the dry response and straight face on top of it. That’s not your look.” 

“What do you even achieve out of doing that?” you ask. “You’re holding me out from-” 

“Yes, you’ll get between my legs again like last time. But I think you can give me more than that, which I’m sure about. Make me scream until I lose my voice or I somehow lose the ability to walk. Does that sound good to you?” 

Part of you likes the fact that she’s got no filter; speaking her mind whenever it feels right.

“Sounds like a test to me,” you muse, taking the challenge head-on. You’re not the kind to back away, let alone have any reason to impress her. You’ll prove your point again when the time is right. 

“Give me twenty minutes,” she says to you. The information comes as need to know, anticipatory. You’re teasing her to get here faster: come to my place sooner and we can skip the boring exposition and do more interesting stuff together. “I promise not to keep you waiting.”

–

The time ticks a lot faster and when you realize it, three or four knocks are sounding off on your right. A scuffle of your socks, a swing of the door later, and voila: Gaeul’s in the middle of your doorway, reflecting the same head tilt you’re giving her before she leans forward for a few kisses. It’s real-life b-roll footage, the snapshots and captured moments of love that everyone longs for in some way or another; you’re living in it. 

“Mhm,” she hums, arms well wrapped around your neck with wrists stacked. She smells good, her body lighter than usual, letting you pull her closer because she knows you will. “Looks like somebody missed me.” 

“Uh uh,” you breathe, laughing in the open space of your mouths, shuffling into the apartment some more, stumbling. Gaeul’s keeping her attire easy with a pair of baggy bottoms that’ll slip so easily out of her legs once you get her to stop moving- 

“I’ll have you know that I thought long and hard about what to wear,” adds Gaeul, standing still and taking her sneakers off one foot at a time, her hair pooling from one side to the other. “But then it hit me, why not just keep it casual?” 

“Explains the comfy combo,” you’re telling her. You don’t even realize the bag brandished on her shoulder. “Is that-” 

“Exactly what it looks like. I don’t have anything tomorrow, so I figured I’d use my downtime more wisely.” 

This is fun. Sure, it’s the playful banter, mixed in with the flirting. You’re using every self-restraint you’ve got in your head to not pin her over on the couch and put her hips against yours. 

You simply can’t help it. The law of attraction that’s taking place: you like her, and it can’t get any more complicated than that. You’re positive that she feels the same way - to some extent. She rubs the neckbone at the nape, twiddles the ends of your hair. The smile she has is infectious, watches as your eyes wander across the lines of her face, almost like you discovered fire. Gaeul’s lips then fall flat, nodding. This is the second or third time you’re seeing her exclusively, each one more exciting than the last. 

“Hungry?” 

Gaeul shakes her head, “Hm, kinda.” 

“You’re in luck,” you beam. “I was gonna whip something up anyway.” 

“Aw, how thoughtful.” She tells you when you’re setting her down, walking over to the dining table with her setting her bag down, following not too far behind. While you’re getting yourself situated, she takes the time to let her head look and observe all the things organized on your shelves and tables, a peek into the inner workings of what makes you tick. You could feel her gaze on you once you’ve got yourself situated at the stove and she finally settles down at the kitchen island, opposite from you with a front-row seat. 

You throw a towel on your shoulder, playing the measly bartender part loosely. “Water?” 

Gaeul blinks, hums a noise serving as a yes. 

“This is just for starters,” you tell her, sliding a glass across the marble before eying the brandy resting at the top of the fridge. “If you want, we can get the good drinks later when we’re bored.” 

“I’d like that.” 

“Want me to explain why Yujin’s project has been a pain in my ass as of recently?” 

She dips her head down, hiding her smile. 

“I think I can think of a few reasons why she can be a handful for some people,” she says, sipping a bit of the water before she gestures her head to the fridge, wanting to get right to business without wasting any time. “But you care a little too much, so we need to ease your mind a little.” 

“Just trying to not be overbearing; because she’s a piece of work, but I love working with her regardless,” you tell her. Next thing you know the brandy’s been brought down on the counter. While you’re doing that, you’re finding the gaps in her schedule. When’s the next time you’re free? There’s the proposal that you’ll bring her out for a nice picnic, drinks with charcuterie, maybe toss in painting to the mix while you’ll blatantly stare at her cottagecore dress with a wine glass in her hand- 

“Are these your notes?” She asks, pulling one of your many notebooks closer to flip through the pages, looking at the different constellations that are already there, the ones that are easy to recognize. Her eyes dart to you when you’re sliding over a different cup filled with brandy for her to take, taking a sip while you glance over at the two sandwiches on your pan. “Wow, you weren’t kidding. This is quite a lot of work she has you doing.” 

“The name of the game, essentially,” you’re grinning, transferring over a tablet with pictures of different stars and galaxies from an album you curated. Some are straight out of a textbook, the others you and Yujin have found on separate occasions. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re actually a nerd?” Gaeul asks, mockingly, swiping the screen as you give her an unimpressed expression. 

You crowd behind her shoulder, going through the gallery, leaning her head against yours as your nose brushes her cheek, sighing in approval. Your hands have a mind of their own, slithering around her waist, planting a kiss on her neck - just to tease. Hey, you’re not fooling anyone here. 

“So you’re telling me that Yujin’s been trying to find a constellation of love somewhere in the stars instead of an actual person? Okay-” she holds in her laugh, leaning into your touch with another kiss. “Sorry, I- I can’t help myself, she’s a handful with this.” 

“Food’s ready, by the way,” you tell her. “I can talk about my side of things in the meantime.” 

–

Gaeul, effortless as she is, listens attentively. 

Her elbows are on the table top, most of the sandwich eaten as she keeps her eyes fixated on you. She watches while you’re giving her the basic rundown of what’s going on with your work life to the best of your ability - stops you midway, points to a spot under the corner of your lip, prompting you to check it yourself, which you do. By some klutzy move, you miss it - probably on purpose, enabling her into telling you to lean closer for her to wipe it herself, and with a downward tilt of your face, she hides away for a moment. It’s that implication of playfulness that gives way to curiosity, that sense of restlessness where sex was always going to be the eventual inevitability.  She wipes whatever was on your chin with her thumb, and keeps it there. Next thing you know, her lips are on yours. 

You’re fighting the press of her lips, leaning forward. Her hands suddenly palm your chest, pushing you back into the chair; the conquest picks up when she straddles herself on top of your hips, grazing her lips and nose across your face. The rush itself dies down for a bit - taking the sweet time of tasting each other’s lips and sucking the air out of one another. 

For someone like her to kiss you so eagerly. You’d let her do just that. 

Her jacket gets taken off smoothly, and her bottoms are pulled a bit to where you can see a hint of her underwear, holding her by the hips. 

The fucking lace, alright. She looks unreal the way it hugs her figure. 

At this point you’re just hypnotized by her hands and lips, undoing some of the buttons on your shirt, sliding her way down until the trail of kisses reaches the lower regions. Your pants and boxers pool at your ankles, kicking them off. She kisses the inside of your thighs, lets her breath coat your balls before a lick of the underside shifts your hips forward to the edge of the chair. Her pretty little mouth reaches your tip, delicately kissing it; she knows what the fuck she’s doing. 

“You’ve been fantasizing about this for a little, haven’t you?” Gaeul teases, pleased. She grins when she wraps her fingers at the base, sighs when you hiss some of the air out your lungs. Her breasts are fighting the bra containing them. She then opens her mouth a bit, drops her head, sinks - fuck. The seal alone is just the right amount of pressure. “How much am I willing to bet you yanked one out after our first date?” 

Your midsection tenses, balling your fists because there’s nothing else you would rather do than push your hips upward and fill her throat; not to shut her up, but give her an idea of what she’s in for if she doesn’t play nice. 

You know that she won’t. 

“Well- you’re right. I did exactly that. How did you-” you blow air out instantaneously when she moves down halfway to your shaft, her eyes rolling back as she’s forcibly choking down your cock. Some of the spit leaks out of her mouth, coating the skin, soaking her bottom lip. Some of it lands on her chest. 

“-ust my kind of guess. Now how much are you willing to bet you’ll ruin me with this cock of yours?” she asks once more, giving you no time to answer when she’s putting her head between your legs, suffocating herself before popping her lips off the tip, slapping your shaft across her cheek. “Shouldn’t take you that long, huh?” 

The way she’s smiling while talking you through this filth, it’s gonna break you. You need her. You need her mouth right back on your fucking cock before she entertains the idea of blue balling you to oblivion. “I’m slightly worried that you won’t be able to handle this. Maybe I should just hop on your cock and let you have your fun while you fill me up-” 

“So f-fucking bad, you are,” you grit, stuttering. 

Consider this as karma coming full circle: Gaeul breaking you just by her being on her knees, lapping away your cock while you had your fun eating her out in the back of the bus back to her place less than forty-eight hours ago, holding her close while you made a mess of her underwear with your fingers. She was trying so hard to be quiet, covering her mouth while you were fucking her open. 

“Aw, that’s unfortunate,” she tells you, dropping her mouth again, hand cupping beneath your balls, working her way down your shaft even more. 

Her bobs are meticulous and calculated. The levels of stimulation are over the scale you drew up in your head, and when she gets her other hand in the fun - twisting the base while the one at your balls are being squeezed, you draw your head back against the chair. 

It’s all in the slow buildup: the soft pumps, the occasional spit slathered as the sound of skin on skin becomes even more obscene. Her fingers coil your base when she takes you in that enveloping heat, humming down your cock until you feel the gentle graze of her teeth on the topside, eyes open and going cross-eyed. You’re struggling to come to terms that this girl was the same girl that was dressed up so nicely and princess-like in the art museum asking you and wondering what was the meaning of all these pieces. 

But then you’re reminded, that all of it is just the surface level of certain things - once you get to know someone, you learn as you go along with them. Gaeul just blinks through every move of her head at your hips, coating your cock endlessly and teasing to the point where she wants to see that side of you that you’re capable of showing her - to make you bust over and over again until you filled up her cunt where she’s begging for more, watch as she gets herself off if you’re away from her for too long, break her like it’s meant to be a daily routine from here on out - which will happen, Gaeul’s good enough to get you there sooner than you think, her pretty little lips, her dainty hands, that fucking tongue - you’ll get back at her for breaking you. 

“Sweetie, okay.” You gasp when she bottoms out your cock, groaning aloud that she’s smiling into the length. She keeps working with her hands and mouth, takes a moment to breathe, fingers sliding nice and easy along the slick skin. Staring at you. “Gaeul, please-” 

She’s close to getting you there; begging, and you manage to get a hand to her cheek, hold her face while she sinks her lips back on your cock again. Fuck. You might be too far gone already. Her teeth press down on the skin of your dick and you let out a noise showing another sign of just how good she’s making you lose it. Some of your fingers card her hair, like you’re clawing for a grip on the side of a rock and you swear that your cockhead swells at the top of her throat - you’re left speechless. You’re pretty sure that you can see stars. 

Gaeul smacks your tip across her lips, smiles as she does so. “You love my mouth, don’t you? I bet you’re just dying to cum all over my fingers and make me apologize for not letting you have your fun. Sucks to be you.” 

“Fucking-” you spit. She swipes her tongue on her lower lip, kisses your shaft the second after. Her index and thumb tighten around your base. “Gaeul, I swear-” 

“What? Had enough already?” 

Forget what you assumed about Gaeul. This version of her at your feet blows the performance right out of the water. 

All that boldness; that wit and snark while playing it cool, she swept it all under the rug from you. Anything she does or says to you, she knows that you’ll twist yourself into giving in to what she wants. Bratty might be one way to conclude - the way she hides her pert smile when you can easily tell that it’s a teasing grin. She looks at your shaft so earnestly as she jerks it around her hand, testing the girth and thickness of it when she finally decides enough is enough and tells you to plug that sorry little hole up that is her throat. The choice to paint your mess over her face or drain it down her mouth is up to you; you’ll ruin her just to satisfy your selfish ego. 

“I could just let you, ya know,” she leans more into your palm while her tongue laves across the skin of your balls, breath hot and heavy in the same way her eyelashes bat at you so innocently. “Let you fuck my face and fill my mouth up with this cock. You’ve been good enough for me, I think I just might.” 

She leans back and unclips her bra, revealing her tits; nice and perky, her rosy pink nipples too - you’ll mark her up when you get the chance. Her hands go to her hair, tying it like some party trick that only takes a few seconds, leans down to your stomach and kisses it, licking downwards just enough to make you snap. 

Your hand’s fast to grab the ponytail on the back of Gaeul’s head. 

“Thought you said you’d let me take over,” you tell her. And then: “there we go, look at that. So pretty when your mouth is full of my cock,” you hiss, guiding her down along your shaft, dragging your hips down and up into the addicting clench of her throat. You pull yourself out and smack your tip across her face, smearing the spit and precum. She wants the mess: “Gonna take my cock so well, aren’t you.” 

When she sinks again, you lose focus for a moment. 

“Mmphgh,” she hums, gripping your wrist. “Mmmuugh.” 

“Not so tough now if you can’t talk.” You almost feel bad. It’s unfair how she can still look up at you and smile at the corner of her lips, keeping her gaze leveled as you sink her mouth on your shaft - you thrusting upwards to meet in the middle. She’s handling it like a champ, and it takes a bit for someone to take you whole. 

A drag up, down, then up. She’s halfway on your shaft, rises, goes deeper - you could see her upper lip clamp down at the base, cheeks puffing up to dispel the air. Her head shakes a bit, struggling; sucking her cheeks soon after - god. The blush is a lot more apparent now, her eyes filled with lust. You give her a little bit of breathing room while you crash her face back down on your shaft. 

“Fuck yes,” you groan, feeling her velvety mouth, taking all of you. She inhales sharply when you slip out of her - only for her to take you back in as you pick up with the thrusts with every shove of her head back down. 

You are trying, so hard, to not fuck anything up - fucking her face - you’re pretty sure you feel a little lightheaded. Her gaze is hazy, gasping every few seconds or so through the gags before you up the intensity once more. How is she even prettier like this? She has no right. Not when the noises and current actions are this debauched. 

“Mmnph?” She hums, the vibration tremoring on the skin. The clamp of her lips at the base again doesn’t help, but when she slides her tongue along the underside- 

“Jesus, Gaeul-” 

Fuck. She inhales your cock to the hilt and swipes her tongue across the same spot where her lip can’t reach. Rough. 

“Mmph hmm.” 

“Relax your jaw, baby,” and she does so, holding you where the clench is the hottest. She squints her eyes as you move her head side to side, the gagging more punctuated through the wet sounds. Ah fuck-

She makes it so, so easy for you. You’ve got just enough to hold yourself back, tugging at her ponytail while she adjusts her mouth over your length - mindlessly bobbing that makes you forget for a second and get lost in the overwhelming wave of pleasure coursing through your body. You’d do anything for her, she’d do anything for you: even if making her a slut was part of the process. 

If we’re being honest here, she wouldn’t have gone this far for you to fuck her mouth - like, a well-practiced and simple blowjob from her could’ve been enough for you to lose it - but if she prefers things this way, how her wide eyes keep looking at you with your hand in her hair, she’ll keep it up until you eventually dump your cum all over her tongue. 

You just have to, soon, and you will. Gaeul guides her other hand to yours, giving you free reign - sending her mouth to you. She does it with such grace, so beautifully, the arousal catches you by surprise. 

Her hands slide to your sides, gripping. Goddamnit, it’s clustered all over her face: the rosy cheeks, the swollen mouth, the sound of her mewling and gagging once you’re upping the pace of your thrusts, spit spread all over her face and chest that makes her skin shine, her hair around the tie becoming more and more messier. 

She will make you insane. 

“Mhm mhm,” she sputters out because it takes her a while for her to coherently say it, probably since her cheeks are so full of cock you pull yourself out to the point there are webs of spit plastered over your shaft and on her lips. 

You’re trying to hold it together. Gaeul, not so much - breathing staggered before she nudges her lips along your cockhead again, opens wide, and slides her way back down, the hypnotizing movement of drool with every deepthroat stroke she does on you. 

“Gaeul,” you call out, breathlessly. Her gags just keep on coming, and your hands find themselves in a familiar place yet again. 

She forces your hand down, comes back up for air. You’re left speechless, stunned. She’s kissing up your cock - desperately in adoration, practically begging without being verbal about it. 

“I want it,” she whispers - drops her jaw again, and guides your hand with her head back down on your length. The friction alone hangs your mind in suspense. 

“Fuck my mouth,” she commands; her voice soothing. You don’t think twice when you sink her head back down on your cock, the warmth and plushness of it unfathomable to register in your fucked-out brain. When she comes back up, gasping for air: “Please, sir. Just like that.” 

So you grip her hair again. “Shit.” You pull at the root of her knot, let her graze her teeth along the slick surface of your cock. “Christ- Gaeul,” Her eyes red, mascara smeared, cheeks hollowed out once more as her throat rucks up the head of your shaft, taking you- all of you. 

Easing yourself into fucking her face wasn’t the way to go; it would be like shying away, saving yourself the embarrassment. Your ears close in on the sounds: the choking, the new layer of spit coated across your throbbing shaft. She’s so good with her lips - in the most fucked up way possible, the sloppier she is, the more happy she’ll be when you release your cum in her mouth or on her face. 

Whichever one happens first, that is, you’ll find out soon enough. 

“Gaeul-” you’re saying her name, sighing it out in reverence. “Close, baby. I’m so close-” 

It’s when she curls her bottom lip, the technique of her tongue sweeping that sensitive spot at the underside - it makes your vision focus at a fine point, she doesn’t let up with the gulps and gags, the delicious clench that makes you swallow nothing. Fuck, you feel it. She knows. With every passing drive of your hips, there’s enough wiggle room for her to breathe again. 

She’ll kill you if you let her do this more often. 

–

“Uhm,” you’re calling out to her again, noticing something out of place. “I don’t remember you asking for that.” 

Gaeul turns around, stretches the shirt on her like some bathrobe. It’s funny: the hem at the waistline covers the middle of her thighs, but somehow you can’t help but admit she looks cute in your clothes - even when she’s wiping away the cum and saliva with the collar and there’s no point in complaining. 

“Sorry, I thought you’d be okay with me having a small memento of you,” she says, pulling the fabric behind, molding it to her figure. There’s a playful hum she’s singing, wandering around your place like it’s her gallery, eyeing the trinkets and things that make you well- you. 

“Would you be cool if-” she adds, turning around in some coquettish ingénue pose, showing a bit of her panties that’s being engulfed by her ass. “-I made you cum a third time?” 

You give her a chuckle since that’s in the ballpark of recurring jokes or cute memories, somewhere along the lines of flirting like an idiot and fucking like rabbits. It’s getting there, the insight at least. 

Sure, have her keep the shirt. It looks good on her. She brought a change of clothes for the night anyway; God knows as to why but you’ll do whatever it takes to keep her around. 

“I’ll take that as a yes with how you’re staring at me still.” She muses a scrunch of her nose that simmers the cutesy, heart-fluttering, babyism sort of act that would make anyone, in particular, flash a look of confusion topped off with a subtle eye roll. 

She grabs your toothbrush and runs it through the faucet. You don’t say anything about that. 

The balls of her feet lift her heels, but she’s not slick with the small arch of her back and leans in towards the mirror. She’s careless, and that’s apparent with how the collarbone sticks out on the right side where the shirt pools. You give her a light laugh when you’re hugging her side, nestle your nose at her temple, patting her head. 

“Do -ou minth?” Gaeul sighs, smiling. “-m tryimph to cean mythelf ere.” The toothbrush hangs at the side of her mouth, minding her own business as you’re pulling a few wisps of her hair past her ear. “Should’ve closed the door on you when I had the chance. Didn’t expect you to be so clingy. You expect me to believe that you can be soft and bubbly when you just shoved your cock down my throat?” 

“Too much?” you ask. “I can dumb it down if you want.” 

She gives you a genuine shake of her head. No. “I don’t mind at all.” She spits out the paste into the sink for a new one, since she’s drooling it out. “It’s cute that you’re like this when it should be the opposite.” 

“Mmm. Bite me if you have a problem with it.” 

Gaeul then sighs when you bury your nose in her hair, rub the side of her waist, because it feels right. Her eyes follow you when you leave her be at the sink, let her spit out some more before brushing. 

–

A girl like Gaeul makes it difficult for you to come to grips with her small, yet lithe frame - how your hands rest neatly on the swell of her ass, fingertips cupping the indent. She’s not making this any better, palming your cock through your pants, or that cheeky smirk once her hand slithers past the elastic and wraps around you like it’s a lifeline. 

You also realize: how light she is, feeling her tits and having a moment of small joy when you manage to get a mouthful of her breast, mouth parting while you’re sucking on her mounds and nipples shamelessly to the point where she has to tug you by the hair to make you stop, grasp at that last bit of control. 

Marking up her chest serves as a viable response to her. 

“Careful now,” she tells you, mewling, head tipped forward - the stimulation quite a lot for her to handle. “A little aggressive, are we? Ah-” 

Like you’re the kind of person to take it easy, anyway. She says your name so prettily; the sensuality over a simple utterance, the breathlessness lying beneath the tone. You’ll fuck and treat her like she’s the only girl in the world and prove it in more ways than one. You’re on the eve of something big here: finding where her limbs and muscles tense, mark up her perfect skin and knock her up like she wants the filthy mess. There’s an unspoken safe word - a prompt or phrase of some kind. If or when she says: “I’m yours,” she tells you, eyes fluttering when you slip your two fingers in, guiding them to the tempo that she wants you to go. 

So she grinds on your fingers and cock whilst making out with you on your bed, eventually fucking her soon after, sheets and pillows tossed and used in the process; you slip some rubber on your cock and cum first before she does, and she’s a bit angry, pouty, coiling her arms and legs around your neck and shoulders until you give her what she wants - the time reads a little past midnight, she’s sprawled on the bed like some happy, sleepy puppy and sighs: “I’m starting to think you can’t handle me. My pussy’s just too good for you to have another round,” laughing as her knee rises and slides her heels along the mattress. 

“Maybe two or three will shut you up, I don’t know.” 

“We’ll see about that,” Gaeul says flatly in lieu of your subtle shrug, “I’m gonna break your cock, just watch me,” and well, you find and realize, she was serious about that; she fucks herself on your hips, determined - and hops off your waist, your front flush with her back, bringing a pillow for her to cling onto. “Something tells me that you’ve been- deprived, I would say. This bed is a little too spacious for us.” 

You laugh with a yawn mixed in. “Yeah, sure.” Gaeul takes the tie you pulled out from her hair and tosses it to the nightstand. “If you want to put it that way, I won’t complain.” 

She scoffs. “Wow. I point out one thing and you’re not even gonna argue against it,” you can picture the quirk of her mouth, a hint of her teeth peeking through into a grin. “For a guy like you to have some experience, that’s not what I expected-” 

“Do you want the polite answer or the truth?” you ask her, leaning more into the cushion while Gaeul tangles a leg between yours. The world around you seems to fade out from your ears, solely making you focus on the present moment, looking at her with a wistful gaze, one filled with contentment and wonder. 

Deprived no more, you’re mentally telling yourself. 

It’s not long after before Gaeul pats your cheek, kisses your jaw before you hear her feet scuff across the floor to your bathroom with nothing on, watching as she checks herself in the mirror, leans into the doorframe, arm raised and stretched up high, locks of her hair spilling from her collarbones and down to her chest, that head tilt to top the silhouette off nicely you’re left in a trance. 

You figure out that this moment, right now, all of the stars aligned at the right time and firmly believe that it’ll stay. 

–

Sometime later, you tell Gaeul that you were holding out for someone like her; someone that took an effort to get because they were simply out of your league - she laughs, half-impressed. 

“Y’know, for you to be figuratively at the altar but still searching,” she murmurs, tapping your chin. “people like you and I can only get so far in life.” 

“People like me and you,” you repeat, the movement between you two isn’t much, but still cautious.

Gaeul drops her eyelids and smiles, a dimple appearing. 

“People. Interesting, enticing,” she breathes. “Enigmatic and those with charisma.” A chuckle hums low in her chest when she looks up with those wistful, doe eyes, “that’s where your type falls, doesn’t it?” 

On the nail, she is - damn she’s good. 

“And where would I be, had I not talked to you that day,” you ask, grinning like an idiot. The space alone is still difficult to interpret, placing your lips on hers and scratch her head while the waves of her coffee-brown locks sift between your fingers. You could feel yourself sinking - sucked into a black hole with no way out, swallowing you up whole. 

“I wonder too,” she echoes your thought. 

You kiss her forehead, give attention to that cute little beauty mark on her cheek. Watch as her gaze softens: a look of love, almost. 

“I’m bad news for you, sadly,” she adds. “Keep me in your life, you’re bound to regret it.” 

–

She wants you so bad, you can’t help but fuck her for the next couple of days. 

Your schedule slowly shifts to Gaeul’s. When the night falls - because there are multiple instances at two in the morning talking about complete nonsense over mac and cheese bowls and slow kissing in the shower with the water falling on both of you that makes her skin a hot blush pink, pressing her into the tile or sink after with your hand or towel in her mouth to keep her quiet - since you learn she likes it that way, letting you feel up the slick curves of her ass and watch the skin ripple to where you see some of the recoil of her tits in the mirror, or even on your office chair facing away from the desktop, Gaeul biting your ear with her knees up to her pits- 

“You like fucking my pussy open with my legs up like this? Hmm?” Gaeul hisses in your ear, voice rasped and torn, sliding her legs back down, tugging hair while you’re filling every inch of her cunt. “Just letting you use me wherever, whenever, however you want-” 

Alright. It’s hard to imagine what you were getting yourself into when Yujin threw a bone to pick at you playing matchmaker - leaving the door open for Gaeul, the girl who waltzed into your life unknowingly, only for her to be the kind of girl that crumbles from your cock being inside her, pumping so full where she’s pulling you into that leaking white slit for another round - but there’s times in the late morning, treating herself another cup of tea, body riddled with hickeys drawn up and discovered by you like a stargazer, her small waist a gift from the heavens above, in your sweatpants where the ends pool over to her toes, leaning down to take your attention away from the screen, grabbing a handful of her tit in place of a hello. 

“What’s that you got there?” Gaeul giggles, hand stacked on yours while you squeeze gently. “That doesn’t look related to the project.” 

She’s half-right. It’s somewhat relevant to the submissions Yujin’s been sending over for you to look at, and the data’s been stagnant; luckily, you’re glad that someone else’s been keeping you accountable for the time being. 

“Well, that's because it isn’t.” you laugh, swiveling your chair a bit so that she can sit on your lap. “This is what the galaxy looked like on your birthday. Gotta say, that does look pretty.” 

Gaeul coos, leaning her head on top of yours. She moves your hand up to her chest, slips her arm out of the sleeve, rucks the shirt on her shoulder. The mix of pale skin and pink bruises, you’re salivating with every lick of your lips - and she leans closer to the screen.

Her eyes widen at the flashes of blue and purple, stares like the picture itself is an art piece, captivated. “Wow, you know what I think?” 

“What is it?” 

“If you’re gonna help discover a galaxy or image like that,” Gaeul tells you, moving her arm around your neck, lightly scratching your hair, “I’d pull your weight with Yujin on this project if I were you.” 

“Really?” you ask her, leaning back so that she can rest her other leg across yours. “I’ve been doing that, but it’s been slow.” 

“Maybe you just have to draw up the connection a little better, then.” 

–

Your groove gets thrown off. Gaeul disrupts the flow which you have no complaint about. You leave your place far later than you intended, and tell Yujin to let you off the hook. The pictures, readings, sketches - the information is a lot to take already. You’re seeing stars. If she’s the sun then you’d be Icarus: flying closer and closer until you get engulfed completely. 

This isn’t simple for you; a little hard to properly explain. The girl just takes and takes and takes. 

You show Gaeul the night sky, have her look through your telescope and tell which stars and planets are seen, painting the image and guiding her to fill that imagination - only for her to say something to make you laugh; next thing you know, she’s got her pretty lips wrapped around your cock, shutting you up with no care right there on the balcony. She keeps batting those lashes at you, fucking her face - hollowed cheekbones too, god. She’s swallowing you whole, hands at your sides, gargling. Putting her hair up in that ponytail. Yeah, you won’t last long. 

The lapping, licking, spitting. She’s savoring the inescapable deepthroat. 

When she licks the upper seam of your balls, you’re pretty sure you saw a new set of stars right then and there. 

“We might need to look at those pictures you have,” you’re telling Yujin on the phone. “I think those from the last look-up. No- I mean, yeah. I was also reading on Rei’s side of the project as well, and what she has is way more substantial than what we were initially working with.” 

“As much as I hate to admit it, her recent stuff has been looking pretty good compared to ours. I’m just glad we found her to work with us in the first place.” Yujin says, laughing. 

“All I’m saying from last time is that if you were this committed to finding someone that can put up with your antics; maybe rough you up and get you all needy and not be as controlling to just live a little, you know? I know that we’re close to finishing this, but I can extend an olive branch for you to reach if you need a guy up your alley.” 

“I’ll hold you to that offer,” replies Yujin, “Hopefully you got a guy in mind that can handle me like how Gaeul is with you.” 

Right, you tell her. Gaeul’s leaned on the frame leading to the kitchen; not tired, sighing when you look over your shoulder to see her hand in her sweats, finger deep up her cunt. The tilt of your head says to keep it down. She bites her lip, continuing what she’s doing. You’ll see why, and be glad that you didn’t jump at the opportunity yet. You look away for a second to notice her sitting right next to you, brushing up your right side, forcing you to switch the phone to the other hand. Watch it. You’re certain that she could hop on your cock right now, and ride you without a care in the world, because why the fuck not? She’s not wearing panties underneath as it is; asking, whining, begging to be bred. 

Shit. 

You really could. 

If you wanted to. 

Like fucking her on the balcony for the world to see would just be another law in your twisted philosophy, breaking a slut like her, leaving the mess of cum all over her body, have her lick it off so sweetly. In a sky full of stars, you’d want to paint that picture somewhere up there too. 

You’re certain that there’s a solace here - one that’s permanently eclipsed with euphoria, certain that it will stay. 

Gaeul’s breathing funnels into your ear as you bite down a smile, grab a handful of her ass and claw greedily at the indent. You could feel her head nod against yours. She’s so fucking needy. 

“I’ll send over the revisions I made,” she pulls back on your lap to see you say. Yujin beams on the other end of the line. “Touch base with Rei also to see if it matches up.” 

Gaeul moves your arm away, pushes your head back with a lip lock. Her hips drop to your growing bulge below. You end the call right away to ensure Yujin doesn’t get caught up in the middle of it, watch as she rips your shirt off from her body. 

–

You hate to admit that you’ve got this dark-twisted fantasy, unwilling to frame that mindset because there was no reason to. She’s so mild-mannered and soft-spoken; wears pretty outfits and dresses waiting for you in the lobby of your building. She’s one messy bun with a hairclip on top away from urging you to snatch her away, Christ almighty. You’ll take away the layers and make mental notes, conceal her away like she’s some comet - write her name into the books that way the whole world knows about her perfection. A girl like her can change what a man thinks, make them say things like I know what you want, don’t give me that look - just for her to stare with that lovestruck look in your eyes. 

If she wasn’t the kind of girl that fell from the sky and onto your lap, syrupy laugh and giggle with those dreamy eyes, you would have a hard time looking through a scope; she’s rattling your brain to the point where you could say one or two things, have her listen dutifully because you know she will. 

Every exploration is a journey into the unknown, and suddenly she could pop a question at any random point in time, like: hey, you don’t need science to make a woman feel good, okay? You can totally fuck me like you mean it.  

But here she’s babbling, heaving. Completely stuffed up on her back with her knees to her chest, brain nothing but mish mash and riding out the pleasure. “Aren’t you a sweet thing,” you groan, “creaming all over my cock-” 

She’s biting down a piece of her shirt, lifted just above her tits, eyes squinched. Her head tilts back, chest up in the air. You’re pressing on the underside of her thighs, pushing her deep into the mattress. The words coming out of her mouth are incoherent, but you’re fucking it out of her: god, oh god, yes, shit, baby, fuck, fuck me- 

“Christ,” you hiss, and move your hands from her thighs to her back, bending the arch more. You’ve done yourself a favor by not railing her on the dining table like last time, gripping her ass, the addicting clench and glide of her folds, begging you to pound and pound and pound until she’s lost the feeling in her legs. 

Everything leading up to this was relatively tame; nothing too serious other than fifteen or twenty minutes of the usual fill-ins of what was done throughout the day, only for Gaeul to flash a look at you and with a grab of her wrist, the rest of the clothes peel away not long after. 

Probably in this universe, there’s nothing left to decipher in the sounds and expressions displayed on Gaeul’s face, small streams of tears falling on her cheeks with every part from the face down riddled in a rosy blush and sweat. You slide your palms up to her chest, rest your thumbs on the underside of her breasts, steadying, plugging your cock up in her tiny cunt and dragging every inch of skin across her walls, clamping hard and soaking no matter how fast and hard you’re giving it to her. Her body’s used to your length, thoroughly fucked that she can’t do anything but feel ruined. 

You see her mouth form an oh shape, some of her hair gets caught on her cheek, glancing you from the corner of her eye before rolling it back to her head- 

“Shhh,” you say, brushing your nose to the side. “Almost there, baby. I’ve got you-” 

Gaeul’s brows furrow together; grinding her teeth, forcing the dragged-out groan down her throat, tears peeking through the seal of her eyelids. She knows that she can’t do anything - besides just taking it like a nice little girl, let this cock pound and wreck her and look gorgeous as you bottom her out. 

“C’mon baby,” you’re huffing, getting one good thrust in while the flesh ripples at your hips, and Gaeul grits out a holy shit but dies down instantaneously, soft, the wail wheezed out in a whisper. Her whole body shakes with another peak, her face flushed with red, saying nothing seconds later. The wetness leaks out of her, coating your cock while holding you true. There’s no objection, only order when you drive your dick back in her cunt. Small threads of her slick forming on your waist, drawing their own set of constellations on her body. 

Her body rebounds upwards on the inhale. 

“Cum,” she tells you, pleading. You could feel her fingers coil your forearm. 

“Condom,” you stutter and fuck. She’s so unhinged - even if it’s just a singular word or simple request. Wringing her out this way was always going to be the result. “Fuck, can’t-” 

Her breath hitches, a cute noise you think. Some of her hair falls on her forehead, eyes lidded. The corner of her mouth ticks up. 

“What?” 

“If you seriously think that I’m gonna cum inside-” 

Gaeul chuckles, twisted into a moan. You can see the gears in her head turning, trying not to get caught up with your cock embedded in her hot cunt still. 

“Not- that.” 

“Not?” 

Her head falls to the mattress. 

“All over me.” Her shoulders slack, hands sliding further up your arm. You let her legs bracket your hips as you grasp at her tit. She doubles down on the command to be sure you heard it the first time. “I wanna feel it.” 

You don’t say anything more when she props herself up on her elbows, watching the sight of your cock slide slowly in and out of her cunt. Slipping the condom off in one swift pull and lick your palm. Gaeul bites on her thumb, smiling at you barely keeping it together. 

“Here is fine.” The way she suggests is dripping in want. Her heaving chest, kiss-bitten lips, tousled hair and sweat and everything in between. “Or maybe,” you see her glossy eyes once more, filled with lust. “Paint my face and get your nice, thick cum all over my fucking lips-” 

You inhale sharply. 

“Watch it,” you hiss. 

“Maybe I won’t,” Gaeul replies, lip between her teeth, challenging. Her hand reaches to your length to keep you second-guessing. The sight of her body; a literal depiction of sin, right in the palms of your hands. 

She grinds your cockhead along her folds, closing her legs slightly. The pressure already sucking you back in. “Sweetie, where- I could just let you lick it off again, grab a towel from the bathroom, that-” 

“You know what I want.” 

You look at her, unsure. But you know what’s about to happen anyway. 

As if she couldn’t give it to you in a different language, she grabs your wrist gently. It’s an easy problem with an easy solution. You can’t argue how pleasant she really is. She doesn’t have to prove more into it, how she’ll be, you could give into that sense of luxury, and you really could. 

So you’re pondering, skeptical. “I told you. You’re insane if you genuinely want me to cum in you. We’re not doing this. No.” 

Gaeul pouts, combined with an eyebrow lift. 

“And I wasn’t kidding when I said that.” She mentioned it the first time, too: “I’d let you cum anywhere you want.” 

A few more passing blinks go by. 

“Why go through all that just to waste your hard work on-” And you’re left surprised that she’s got the strength left to pull herself back up, resting her hips right on top of yours, fingers carding through your hair when she slips you back inside. Inch by inch, you feel her sinking down - slowly. You know that she isn’t stopping in particular, wiggling her ass; a soft implication, teasing. She’s pulling you closer and closer to where you’re seeing eye to eye with her. “Safeguarding a pretty girl like me.” 

In all honesty: it’s in your nature. Gaeul’s simply just being herself. Tender. Beautiful. Fully embracing. You could give her the power to destroy you, and she’d thank you for it. 

She gives you a very hard time thinking, grinding her hips against yours - let yourself get drunk in the raptures since the rubber was starting to become a pain in the ass recently. Gaeul’s cunt siphons out all your thoughts with every single inch of her gripping cunt, speaking listless phrases of praise and wishes that you’re positive to make come true for her. She could ride and pound her pretty pussy all over your cock - orgasm after orgasm after orgasm - until her face is blown out and just flat-out gone. Ease her mind with your dick, since she seems to love it so much. 

To be spoiled, showered and railed in whatever way possible. She just keeps hopping along your cock, bottoming herself out to the point where she’s looking to the ceiling in pure stimulation. 

You ruck your hips forward. Gaeul trembles, sighing in relief, allowing you the reins, lifting her body up and back down on your thighs. Her neck tips down, mouth canted. 

She’s warm and tight - just perfect; so sensitive and responsive after bouncing her cunt on your cock over and over and over- 

You steady yourself, savoring the feeling. 

She wants you to fill her up, to the point where she has to tell you that it’s enough. 

You suck in a breath, slip out a groan, shuddering. “Oh my god-” 

“Good, right?” Gaeul smiles, “Shit-” and you feel her head collapse onto yours, relaxing and riding out the length until her hips mesh with yours. She practically melts on your cock, stretching and tightening all at once, inviting. 

A kiss to her chest is what you give her, trying to keep your mind off her pussy carelessly clinging every inch of your girth; making it simpler for you to nudge your cockhead into the spot that makes her clench and shake; mewling and humming mixed with the moans; soaking your hips till it stains the sheets. 

“Such a slut,” you tell her, maintaining the last bits of coherence you have left, “so careless and needy. I should stop before you do some real damage.” 

Gaeul smirks, looks so admonished you can’t help but stare. “I don’t like that tone of yours.” 

“What tone?” 

She curls a smile before cradling your head. 

“Talking me down, doesn’t sit right with me.” 

“You told me that you didn’t mind.” You lift her hips from the crease, lean forward to swirl your tongue around her nipple. Looking up to see her watch, give a shameless lick on her bud to lay the challenge, pull back with a pop of the lips. “I know you were being polite about it. Call me a good listener.” 

“I might’ve said something different.” 

“Like you beg to differ.” 

“Hush.” 

“Pussy so good for you that you’re at a loss of words? Set your mind right after getting lazy over work?” The arch in her back deepens, gyrating her hips at the hilt to further the connection - your thumbs dig in the crease of her legs. You drag her forward. She moans again. “Shame on you, I should say no the next time-” 

“But you won’t.” 

“No. No. I won’t.” Gaeul huffs into your cheek, sighs once more when you’re kissing her throat. 

You’re fucking her brains into a puddle and somehow you’re still wondering how she can still think straight - ignoring the fact that her body’s split open and folding through on slap of your hips onto the next- 

“I won’t. Not ever.” She mumbles, whimpering. “I- can’t get enough of this dick. I can never get enough of your dick.” 

“Really?” You’re asking acerbically.

She shakes her head, and you give her a nice hot kiss, priming her head at an angle where you both prefer it to be: and she slips her tongue between your lips, groaning and melting on top of your body, pressing her knees to the sides of your thighs and her cunt in this sliding friction across your cock. She’s terrible at keeping secrets, a truth even - trying to convince you otherwise that she doesn’t like when you’re working her so well her face flushes, aching while leaking her endless slick onto your skin. Your mouth, hands, and cock all give her these waves of bliss, hitting the points all at once where her body blooms and she doesn’t know what to do next. 

You slam her ass back on your balls that her hips spazz out, grinding another climax out of her while she screams; a live wire is what she is, purring and gasping once you’ve triggered that reaction. 

“Like that,” she tells you, at this point, her arrogance is fucked out. Then, her lip is between her teeth, puffing out, bites her teeth together: “that’s so fucking good.” 

“Yeah?” and you feel her fingers slither back into your hair, assisting in the lift of her lower half back down - she’s spiraling. “So good for me, love, baby. Oh, baby-” 

She rattles her head when you’re sliding your hips further forward, the press of Gaeul’s knees moving up to the sides of your stomach. “Nuh uh,” she hisses; the angle is too good for her, impaling her from below she can’t breathe at the top, cunt nicely forming around your cock so deep-” 

“Not the love bullshit, no.” Gaeul chuckles, giddy, mouth canvasing your shoulder. Sighing, whispering, swallowing her hums.

You raise and yank her back down. The whine is one part of the whole symphony. 

“Like- love. What the fuck - so soft. God-” 

“Look who’s talking,” you growl. A curse spills from your lips. She’s a fucking waterfall that it’s unbelievable. The tightness alone for the first time would make anybody an instant addict. And you’re bent on the fact that cumming inside Gaeul is your inevitable demise - her walls clamping in increments around your shaft that every slap of skin and swallow of your throat brings you closer. “I’m giving you what you want, no? All you have to do is just take it - like a nice, little, whore-” 

She wheezes, giggling where it gets caught between a coo and a hum of approval.

“-my little cocksleeve, good god-” you hear yourself say, and the bump of Gaeul’s head into yours can hide so much of her flushed cheeks. “So beautiful, ruined for me, my little nymph come to life. You love this cock so much, wanting to be full of cum, lapping it up like a cute puppy-” 

You’re not sure what you’re saying at this point, but Gaeul keeps on laughing, rolling her hips forward and backward. She lifts herself halfway, falls right back in. Exhales. You know what’s coming; what’s about to happen. Her legs lock up, jaw slacked - hung in suspense. She’s breathing where you could see on her shoulders, leans forward with a turn in her ear: 

“My little sex kitten, how bout that?” 

Skeptical, Gaeul sighs; sucking in her stomach while her head turns the other direction, showing some of that fading self-control and common sense. 

“Okay, that’s. Oh-” she tries telling you, shying away. Her hand goes to yours, continuing the motion, sloppily, letting out a lazy grin and bouncing your name off your lips as her body leans back and into your control. “Rushed, I think. Maybe. Not sure- need more- to get used-” 

“Gaeul.” There's no hiding it anymore, you’re too dumbfucked out of your own mind to turn back now. She seethes out another cry, making you tilt your lips to a devilish smile. “Poor thing, so dirty. A naughty little squirrel that can’t get enough of my nut, huh? Look at you, so wet and filthy, making a mess all over the place-” 

Yeah, she broke you. You’ve gotten so twisted because of her - no point in mincing words here. 

“Fuck, okay, please, that’s too much-” 

You can’t stop - you just can’t. Her cunt is so close to squeezing you, numbing your mind until she drains you completely. 

The pace is painstakingly slow, the rise and fall of her hips with every pump inside her, nails clawing your skin away at the bridge of your shoulders. It becomes- too much, the way your cock stuffs her tiny pussy until that edge is finally reached, the heat cranked up way past eleven, the desire to take it written all over her face and body.

“Want it,” she chokes out. Her cunt creates this pocket of air inside where the noise is just utterly wrong. “Please.” 

Her eyes water, fluttering.

“I hear you, darling. I know.” 

“Ah, yes. You-” 

Her head lolls forward, lazily. You wrap your arms around her waist and guide her back onto the sheets, slip yourself out and roll her over until her ass is in view. She peers over her shoulder, watching you mount her thighs, pull her hips up and slide a pillow into the open space created, laying back down and bury your cock back in her creaming cunt, kneading the handful of ass in your palm before testing the depth again. 

You notice her shoulders bunch up to her neck, hands gripping the sheets when you’re leaning back down to her face.

“Fight me,” you whisper down her ear, “if it’s too much.” Gaeul shakes her head at the drag of your shaft, driving back in with a firm thrust that makes her gasp for air - bites down a moan into the blankets beneath her. You’re pinning her into the bed frame so harshly you don’t even care if you break it. 

Her hand shoots back to your arm, grabbing. The slaps of skin pick up in rhythm, maintaining a tempo. You reach out for her hair and lift her head, releasing a few moans before her breaths also start to become more staccatoed- 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can’t- hhn-” 

You’re having too much fun for your sake. Though, you can’t blame yourself in this situation. This was what Gaeul wanted, and she got it. A second later you’re pressing her head back down into the bedding, bend that arch in her lower back a bit deeper where your cock can carve its way down to the hottest point where she can take it. Her mewling and crying rise in volume and you only have the slap of your hips to hers serving as this undertone to her song. 

“Where,” you sputter, because you know the limit’s about to be reached. “Where do you want me-” 

Gaeul turns her head back; you can’t even see her lips move when she says it: “Inside.” 

So you coil your arms around her waist and flush your chest to her back. “If that’s what my kitty wants.” 

You raise the pace then and there. Fucking her tight little cunt as if you finally created the theory in your head into breaking Gaeul. It doesn’t take much for someone smart to put the pieces together: all you need is a nice hold of her ass, impaling your cock deep where you can take it, sliding in and out of her walls with such precision that you’ll empty every fiber in your body to satisfy both her and yourself. 

You’re experimenting with the position of her body - deep into the mattress, lift her upper half where both deepens the arch of her pussy, nudging your cock where her walls can clinch and clench along the member - working so seamlessly to bring that orgasm to the front. There’s only one thing left to do now: to pound and bounce her ass and cunt all over your cock until you spill all of it inside her open pink hole. You’re gonna drain everything in your balls deep into Gaeul’s cunt until she’s whining from the mixture of tension and shaking, growling so loud that you’ll wake the neighbors on the upper and lower floors. 

The pulsing, shooting rope after rope and after rope of cum inside her. She’s moaning in relief at the feeling while you’re still pooling, head spinning so fast that you’re finally on the same page as her: ruined, and thoroughly fucked. 

“T’so warm,” she mumbles sleepily. “And thick-“ 

The slamming of your hips keeps you conscious. “Gaeul, this cunt, baby, so fucking incredible.” 

An angel falling from the heavens. Would anyone ever believe it if you told the things you did with her? 

When you do slide out of her well-fucked-and-worked-cunt, you can’t help yourself still and slip inside again, coating your cock mixed in with her slick and your cum. You watch when you pull your tip away from her folds, the sheen of white coming out of her slit - the whole image of her backside is a picture-perfect painting right here in your sheets: her puffy pussy lips, the beet red spread across the breadth of her ass, bruises on bruises across the plane of her back, hair in this half and half of a bun and wavy locks. You then run your hand across your length, wipe the mess on the person who created it, and look at her while she rolls on her back with her arms raised. 

You’ll also think about treating her; cleaning her up in the shower; dry her hair, swaddle her in a towel, carry her around your place, clean every spot and cranny - worshiping her curves and mounds until she’s willing to be broken apart and put back together again. A girl made to be ruined, an endless experiment you want to keep forever. 

“See?” She laughs, running a finger along her folds, collecting her reward, licking it off her fingertips before cupping her palm gently along your cock, slowly rubbing you to get a few more drops out of you. Her tongue runs across her lips, almost like she’s gonna drool again and it’s just fucking terrible, but you love it. “Can’t you think the wonders of you breeding my poor, sorry, cunt-” 

Part of you wants to shut her up with your dick. She’s so forward with the intent and doesn't care about the consequences. It’s dangerous. You’re thinking ahead of how she’ll look with the ribbons of cum spread all over her body, on her face, in her hair. Sick and twisted it is, and she cups your sack - gasping at the sudden weight of it still. 

Soon. You need a breather and push yourself away. 

She flails her arms and legs around like some kid throwing a tantrum, groaning. 

But she smiles and shies away; not nervous, but happy. “Fuck me,” she swears where she feels relaxed and unbound by any worry. You bring yourself down to her and try to kiss her cheek, but she turns her head away with her hand pushing your face. 

“Nope,” she tells you, softly laughing, “I don’t think you’ve earned it. Should’ve fucked me harder.” 

This girl is a problem. 

You pinch her cheek and start poking her stomach, the bubbliness coming to life. She can’t stay in one place the more you tap your fingers all over her body. She’s very ticklish. 

“Poor kitty,” you remark, because you notice her smile and tucked lip, watch the butterflies flutter in her stomach, and when you’re patting her thigh she doesn’t bother retaliating, since the idea’s set in her mind that there’s no further objection. 

“Didn’t you say,” she sighs, voice beaming, face pink and clutching her waist. “You like it when I’m like this, making you stupid that way you’ll just pound me at the end of it? Y’know, pinning me into the mattress. Gotta say, the-” 

“Gaeul, please.” She knows that you’re amused, smiling. “Get up. Go shower, you’re dirty.” 

“No no,” she replies, shaking her head. You stare into her eyes while her legs spread, causing you to look down and scrunch your nose. Her head tips back, trails her fingers up her chest, traces around the nipple, some of her hair falls in front. “If you’re the one who made the mess, you should make the effort to clean me up again.” 

You make a note of the upsetting attitude - maybe forward it to Yujin since she knows a little more about Gaeul out of annoyance. 

Yujin didn’t give you the full report, anyway: about how Gaeul’s the kind of girl that functions over good food, drinks, and a proper dicking down without even considering the whirlwind of logistics she’ll mess up. You should’ve seen the signs. You should’ve known who you’re dealing with. 

“What’s wrong?” Gaeul asks, grinning, relaxing her back while you pull her by the thighs, bringing her closer. You thumb her knee, considering. The warning signs are there - just waiting for everything to come apart. 

She gives you an eye smile while you’re rolling yours, guiding your hand up her inner thigh, stopping right at her pussy lips. It’s draining. A headache. You’ll be sleepless in the morning because you can’t admit Gaeul’s the reason for staying up so late. “Only gonna say it once,” you tell her. “Shower comes first.” 

You say, but your body does otherwise, scooching forward where your finger hovers right above her clit. Though you gently press your palm right above her hip, noticing how sweaty she is - or maybe it’s the spread slick from her thighs; you can’t tell, the slide of it has you in disbelief. 

“I think you can give me one more,” Gaeul suggests, rolling on her stomach, forming the arch so tantalizing you force yourself to look away, knees spreading and her feet flush - imploring without really saying anything because you know she won’t stop and there’s nothing you can do about it. Her teeth peek through her cunning smirk, fully pleased. “Forget about putting another condom on, ‘cause like- god. I know you love how my pretty little pussy lips wrap around your cock when you’re cumming in me anyway.” 

It’s a genesis of sorts: the beginning of an unending madness. A world which you cannot escape - nor want to. 

–

Everything is a mess: you, your place, your work with Yujin. Gaeul comes by every other day - except when she’s swamped with schoolwork where she pops the idea of going on a romantic getaway or a staycation, hiding yourself away from the world and fucking her stupid until she’s sleepy. 

Here’s the thing. 

It’s when you’re with friends- or just you and her, wandering around the city, she’s the calmest, reserved girl you’ve ever seen. Much like she puts on a mask or appearance during the day and nobody seems to notice. Her clothes are much in line with yours, and pulling your face for a kiss - well, to milk the moment, you suppose - curling her fingers across your cheek, eyes so full of her that they’re crossing against each other at the press of her forehead with yours. 

There’s something here. You’re certain that it’s already been found. An exploration of these moments and experiences and the gut feeling rest well in your mind. You ponder, maybe it’s meant to be. This was all for fun at some point too. Maybe, also, that might not be the case. 

You deem it too early to say you love her, but the reciprocating kisses she gives you make you think otherwise, every single time, and you give into her little smile. 

If you or her mean it, one of you will say the words eventually. 

–

“So? What are we thinking? You reckon we’ll get it this time?” Yujin says, optimistic. You picture her with her feet propped up on something or in the air, it sounds like it. 

“Well, I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.” You answer, “Oh- by the way, Gaeul wanted to come along for the final set of tests. Are you okay with that?” 

“Yeah, I don’t mind.” 

“Awesome.” 

Silence builds up on the line. 

“Aren’t you gonna tell me how she is?” Yujin prods, teasingly with a tone higher than usual. “C’monnnnn, I wanna know-” 

“Why would I? My business with Gaeul is not information to share.” 

“Boooooo.” 

“What?” 

“You and her haven’t given me credit for setting you guys up,” says Yujin. “Some of the details can be left out - for obvious reasons. She’s been telling me good things about you.” 

You smile at that. 

“Okay, to be honest, she’s amazing. I haven’t had an issue with her since our date and well- I don’t need to explain more for you to figure the rest out.” 

“Tell me more later when I see you two, but from what it sounds like, I think you struck your luck out with this one. She’s a real keeper.” 

Seeking out an Andromeda wasn’t on the cards, but you’re happy enough to have it fall right on your lap. 

It’s something special to cherish. 

–

Gaeul watches from a distance, admiring the image of you in your element. 

Yujin looks closely at the screen readings while you’re peering into the telescope, following along to the proper adjustment in getting the coordinates right. There’s a double check - then a triple check - glancing at the image presented. She smiles when you give her a nod of approval, looking back over at Gaeul who stares right back. 

Gaeul appears stoic, but you can tell that she was a little bit nervous for you. If things didn’t go well today, it wasn’t going to be the end of the world, but you know deep down that she wants you to succeed - and you do too. 

“We have something,” you’re telling her when you reach the bottom of the steps, rubbing her elbow for comfort. “Wanna come take a look?” 

She bites her lip, eyes tilting down, and nods. 

You kiss her knuckle and bring her up. 

Minutes later, she’s where you were: through the looking glass while Yujin slides her chair over pointing at the mix of greenish blue in the middle of the vast blackness of space. “Looks new, seems lightyears away from us. Have we finally got it?” 

“Judging from what the professor was telling us, nobody is claiming this one yet.” 

Yujin taps your shoulder before leaving to call up her mentor. 

Gaeul still looks into the scope, smiling when she feels your arms wrap around her waist, laughing softly. 

“It’s beautiful,” she tells you, “I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

The night sky shines above the observatory, light funneling through the opening as a natural spotlight, illuminating the glow reflected on her perfect skin. You look at her as if you’d turn into stone when you look away. She looks at you like everything just makes sense - a safe place where she can find comfort in, realizing what she said was already made true, but she doesn’t know that. 

“You speak for yourself? Or?” 

She hits your arm, and you’re smiling like an idiot. 

“Do you have a name for it?” Gaeul asks, turning around so that she’s properly facing you. You’re still trying to figure out how she can look so pretty - so effortlessly; it’s something that you’ll dedicate a whole lot of time to study, see if you can find the answer in her eyes, or her body- 

“Not yet,” you answer. “It'll take some time to pick, but- I’m open to recommendations.” 

She nods, quickly flashing her eyes to see if there was anyone within earshot, pensive. “I got nothing so far, but I’m willing to jog your mind if you’re it.” 

“Gaeul,” you say, sternly, grip tightening on her lower back. “What’re you implying, hm?” 

“All I’m saying is that I can be a great help for you in that bathroom downstairs. Unless you want to step outside, get some fresh air - the breeze is so nice up here, and no one will hear me because of the crickets-” 

“Minx,” you’re saying again. She sighs with her mouth parted, working herself right off the bat. “Now’s not the time, you were good for me earlier. Plus, your ass is still sore, I know why you didn’t want to sit down in the first place.” 

Gaeul nicks her head up, lifts her eyebrows. You’re flashing the image in your head of earlier: her being soaked in your cum, mouth swollen and makeup ruined, naked with a pair of cat ears in her hair and wrists handcuffed to the edge of your bed. It’s been a few hours since then, but nothing’s stopping the urge from burning through your pants- 

“Said you did a good job spanking me, did I?” 

“You know my answer.” 

“Touché.” 

You shake your head and press your lips to her crown. Patting her head and rubbing her shoulder while she puts her thumb on her chin, carelessly minding her own business while you’re treating her; mind already tired and with the amount of pictures and papers and telescopes too complicated to listen to in a firm explanation, she’s unbothered. She pats your back twice to make you stop. 

“We’re still grabbing drinks with Yujin after, right?” Gaeul asks, remembering the offer. “Her treat?” 

“She’s a terrible liar,” you chuckle, “The tab’s on me.” 

–

It’s all a process. 

Day by day. The concept of love is not a linear path; getting to know someone and revealing the pieces, building that trust with a significant other, infatuated about the secrets and intricacies that you’ll take to your grave once they’re shared, seen, and spoken. 

You’re up late nights, peering into your bedroom to see her legs tangled around a pillow. On certain days she comes home excited, jumping onto you at the door to times when she’s tired, and you’re piggybacking her inside because that’s what she likes. When she’s with Yujin, she’s normally quiet and laid-back - but with you, she’s all over the place. Telling you these unholy things that you don’t expect her to know when you’re fucking her into the bed; the way her voice sounds when she’s praising you. She goes around like her own little planet, full of wonderful things. She likes vinyls and vintage stuff and prefers to run outside when it’s raining. You let her steal your glasses because she looks better in them. Her smile is infectious. The way that she tousles and turns when you’re kissing every corner of her body and telling her all the things that she wants to hear. You’ve got the backlog filled out.  

Spread her legs apart, have her sit up, ride your face. Break down those fragile walls until she’s completely sucked into your embrace. Gaeul desires a lot of things that you can try to give - the wonders of the world, a bigger picture - something that you’ll pull down from above and have her keep for the sentiment. 

You’ll keep the fact that she’s somebody who wants to be ruined - get chaotic and a tad sadistic. She prefers the punishment over the crime. 

–

Nights like these, it feels like some kind of mistake when Gaeul brings you over to her place. 

There’s nothing bad happening whatsoever, you just feel the knife twist a little more when you can’t go inside because last time Liz and her other roommate caught you and her red-handed on the couch, even after having the assurance that they wouldn’t be home until later. It wouldn’t feel wrong to hug her, kiss her goodbye, knowing that you’ll probably see her around on campus in the afternoon later. 

Gaeul gazes into your eyes earnestly, as if she didn’t want to go back in yet, hoping that you’ll take her away and carry her back to your apartment. A wish she made on a passing star and praying it comes true. With those white thigh highs she’s wearing, you’ll make that dream a reality in a heartbeat. 

“How long have we been friends for again?” She asks, tugging on your jacket, slipping your hands around her hips. She’ll take wherever she can, you know her well. “Hard to believe that we’d be together. You know, like this.” 

“Do I need to remind you who made the first move?” 

“Fuck you.” She slaps your chest as part of the response. “I was trying to have a moment with you. So shut up.” 

“Okay, I will, please continue.” You lift your shoulders in surrender. “For the record, I’d like to take most of the credit, since I asked and all that.” 

Gaeul rolls her eyes to the back of her head. That was her whole plan from the start - had you not said anything to her, she wouldn’t be here taunting you; while being so quiet and pretty that it’s hard to combine the two. 

“Depends on who asks,” she begins. Her cheeks rise, veneers highlighted. She throws everything out in your head with ease - one hint or subtle suggestion and the common thoughts get brushed aside. That’s a you problem. More so of a bigger problem compared to hers. She can read your expressions like a book. 

So you say: “Are you asking?” 

You keep looking at her, like you did back in the museum, wondering all of the pretty little things that differentiate her from the rest; her side profile, the bunny-heart-shaped-ears, how her lips purse together almost like a pout; it’s like you’re seeing some cosmic pareidolia. Kind of like putting fragments together from your dream. 

Gaeul tilts her head, pondering. “If you are, then I’d agree with what you’re saying,” she tells you, kissing your cheek and stepping inside her apartment.

[dilfverines]

Old man Logan who misses you when you’re away at work or spending time with your friends, who gets way too caught up in thoughts of you and the scent of you all over your clothes when he tries the thoughtful, innocent gesture of doing your laundry for you.

Picking out a pair of lacy pink panties from the basket, his mind clouds with lust as he holds them to his face and takes a deep sniff. He groans at your smell, so strong it’s almost like he’s between your legs, lapping at the very cunt that had been touching the fabric he’s holding tight in his grasp.

Shaky hands fumble with his belt and he lets his pants drop and hang around his muscular thighs. His cock is already rock hard just by your scent, aching and needy for touch. He can’t remember ever feeling this desperate for anyone before you came along.

With no reluctance, he brings the pair of panties down to his aching length, letting the soft fabric cover it with a slight sigh leaving his dry lips at the delicate touch.

Logan knows he should feel guilty for this, for being perverted enough to take something so personal and use it for something so disgusting, but his old age and his extreme desperation bring him to have no care at all.

He grasps his cock through the panties, teasing the swollen head through the fabric, feeling it get wet and sticky with his precum. His brain plays an image of you, on your knees before him, swirling your tongue around the sensitive head. A groan leaves him at the thought.

A stain begins to grow on the crotch of the panties as he jerks himself off, muscles tight and strained with the pleasure he feels. A few little breaths escape, mutters of you and your pretty pussy, wishing you were here with him.

He thinks about how he can’t wait to get you home later, pin you down on the nearest surface and show you how much he missed you while you were gone. He’ll have to resort to this for now though, turning his attention back to the soft cloth that he gets off with.

His strokes grow faster, his rough palm grasping his thick cock even tighter. A strangled groan, a whisper of your name, and he feels it. Vision going blurry, hips twitching to meet his fist, spurts of white, hot semen shoot from his weeping slit and on to the soft fabric inside your panties.

A strangled fuck leaves Logans lips. He lets it take over him, completely consumed by the feeling of cumming into your panties like the gross old man he is, until the high fades into a dull buzz in the back of his mind.

Head stirring, he looks down at the mess he’s made, knowing he’ll definitely have to clean this up before you get back, and he can’t wait until you do.

[wcnderlnds]

opposites attract | choi su-bong (thanos)

・❥・ summary: he's chaotic and loud, you're shy and introverted but he can't help but be intrigued by you ・❥・word count: 1.3k ・❥・warnings: mentions of death bc squid game, nam-gyu is mean to reader (im sry), female reader. ・❥・ authors note: i love writing this chaotic man <3

Of course the second game just had to be one where you had to interact with people and find a team. Talking to people, approaching them – it was your worst nightmare. As you stood there in the sea of people all talking and teaming up, you timidly stayed in place, your hands pulled into the sleeves of your jacket giving yourself sweater paws. Since the first game, you had kept to yourself. You had even voted to leave. Why would anyone want to stay in a place like this where people were getting killed for losing children’s games? Unfortunately, the majority had decided to stay even after a heavily heated debate where player 456 had declared he’d been here before. While it was all kicking off, you had hid behind the crowd. Conflict was something you avoided. People were usually something you avoided but when a salesman came up to you with promises of money, how could you say no?

So, as you stood there, too shy to approach, you accepted the fact that you were probably going to die. There was no way you had enough courage in you to find a team. Even if you did, who was there to ask? The only person you might consider approachable was player 456 but he already had a team. There was no point going over there, asking and risking embarrassment as they turned you down. Aimlessly you wandered around the room, fingers toying with the ends of your sleeve – a nervous habit that you’d had since you were a child.

Guess you’d just have to accept your fate. You were either going to get killed because you couldn’t find a team or end up in a team who didn’t want you. Just as you were about to sit down and give up entirely, someone cleared their throat behind you. Spinning around, you came face to face with the infamous player 230. His purple hair was unmistakable, you’d seen him when he’d been fighting some other boy yesterday.

“Senorita, excuse me,” he said, his hands clenching his jacket to his chest. Your eyes landed on his multi-colored nails first before daring to glance up to look at him. Eyes met his dark ones for only a second before looking back down at the ground. He noticed instantly, tilting his head to the side as he looked at you. “Team with us.”

“R-really?” You dared to glance back up. He seemed serious but the look his friend was giving was anything but friendly. It looked like he’d rather team with anyone but you.

“Yeah, really? She’s kind of weird,” Nam-gyu looked you up and down, pulling a face then turning back to Thanos. “We can find someo-”

“Shutup,” he held his hand up in front of his friend’s face, his eyes solely focused on you. “Team with us. I’ll keep you safe.”

It wasn’t like you had any other options so you nodded. Thanos seemed thrilled, throwing his arm around your shoulders in a side hug. Your instinct was telling you not to trust him but at the same time there was something slightly comforting about him. After all, he had ignored his friend to solely talk to you. Why on Earth he was so adamant to have you on his team baffled you but it saved you from getting eliminated… if you made it through the game anyway. 

Turns out it was five mini games in one. As the rest of your team argued about who would do what, Thanos’ eyes were fixated on you who was looking at the ground. There was something about you that intrigued him. The difference in your personalities was more than noticeable. He was loud, crazy and obnoxious while you, on the other hand, seemed shy, insecure and quiet. Maybe it was true. Maybe opposites really did attract because for some reason, he wanted to get to know you more. He actually wanted to know you. That rarely happened with him. Usually he was the type of guy to get a crush, fuck and then move on to the next one. It was rare for ‘Mr One Night Stand’ to really want to get to know someone. To be honest, he wasn’t sure he liked the feeling. The pounding in his chest as he tried to examine you with his eyes. It was impossible to really get a good read on you.

“And, the loser over there can do Gonggi,” Nam-gyu’s voice echoed through your ears. Panic struck, you leaned forward, speaking before you even thought about it.

“I-I don’t know how to play Gonggi,” you mumbled.

“Better learn quickly then, huh?” Nam-gyu smiled fake-sweetly at you.

“Hey, stop it,” Thanos stopped his silent beat boxing to chime in, leaning forward to glare at his friend. “Leave her alone… What are you good at?”

“I can do spinning top. I played it a lot with my friends…” you tried to speak with a bit more confidence, a pink hue tinting your cheeks. Thanos noticed, grinning at you.

“Spinning top for you then. You’re cute, by the way,” he winked, causing your cheeks to only redden more.

Somehow, someway, the team had managed to survive. A lot of teams seemed to struggle with Spinning Top but you had got it the first try – Thanos almost blowing out your eardrums with the loud cheer of celebration when you did. Now, back in the main room, you were sat with the team. If it was up to you, you would have gone to sit by yourself but Thanos had insisted you sit with them. It seemed like he wanted to keep you around. It wouldn’t be too bad to have some friends, right? You sat beside Thanos, a space between you. While he was in a world of his own, DJing some invisible show in his head by the looks of his hand motions, the rest of the team were arguing. Your knees were pulled up to your chest, chin resting on them.

Watching everyone talk with each other so easily – even if it was arguing – made you feel slightly jealous that you couldn’t. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to because you did but the mere thought of striking up a conversation with anyone brought you too much anxiety. It was just better to keep to yourself. If you had to be the weird, quiet girl then so be it.

“They’re idiots,” the deep voice beside you said. Turning to look, you’d noticed Thanos had closed the distance between you both, his shoulder touching yours now. “You good?”

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” you smiled, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. “Thanks for letting me team with you.”

“No problem, Senorita. Told you I’d keep you safe, didn’t I?” His toothy grin made your heart skip a beat. Oh boy. That was the last thing you needed.

“Y-yeah,” you laughed, tearing your eyes away from him yet again.

This time, his finger gently reached out, tilting your chin to look at him. His eyes pierced yours, a look of intrigue on his face. “You have pretty eyes. It’s a shame you think the floor deserves to see them more than me.” He leaned in a little closer, his hot breath fanning against your face. Being close to someone wasn’t new for you. It was something that didn’t happen often but you’d had your fair share of encounters with people. “Meant it when I said you were cute, babygirl. Stick with me through these games and when we survive, let me take you out for a drink. Maybe I can get more than a few words at a time out of you.”

Once again, he winked at you, removing his finger from your chin and turning his attention to the argument going on in front of him. Meanwhile you were in a daze, your heart beating against your chest so much you were sure it was about to beat out of your ribcage. Yeah, this man was definitely going to be trouble.

taglist: @angelofbooksworld @ldydeath @taivantaylor @sherlocke3d @djarindroid @justsisse @sassyyoyo @lillyysgirlblog @mysatnin @basquiat-top @urmomsg1rlfreind

[bogor-o]

OKAY so first off my narilamb au is specific to my lamb n nari bc 🤪 but imma start off w/ an incomprehensible copy/paste of a ramble i had

all these ramblings are still rough but u kno!!!!

it's a bridgerton au specific 2 my narilamb(ovidia/narinder) where the bishops would be the closest to the bridgerton family equivalent and Shamura being the head of family trying to help their siblings find courtship so they will be set but narinder would be the most difficult of them all because hes stubborn and convinced that being married would make him miserable and every season hes had several interested suitors but hes rejected them all until he comes across ovidia, now considered a spinster after several unsuccessful seasons because all their previous suitors found them too high maintenance and itd be no different with narinder but itd be similar to bridgertons kate/anthony situation and they're so into eachother it makes them look fucking stupid!!!!

ALRIGHT now to get more into it, as far as family and dynamics go, obviously with Shamura being the head of the family they very meticulously keep things in order and its why their considered one of the most affluent families and they've very easily found partnership because it was probably more business than anything but it works for them, and when time came for kallamar to start looking it was smooth because of how enthused he was, and it was really obvious with him how many wanted in

the way i see it, nothing is strictly monogamous, but it's seen as "lower class" to have too many spouses because the merging of so many families is probably seen as greedy, desperate, something something for one reason or another-- that said, kallamar definitely has multiples, and if not for being such a prestigious family and shamuras own reputation, it couldve been worse so they got a freebie there

but with narinder, having seen the way his brother is with his spouses vs the way shamura is with theirs, hes seen an instance of a loveless business deal in one, and complete obsession to the point of disregarding everything else that hes so fucking disinterested in courtships especially in the way its been presented to him

hed be able to hold off shamura long enough to get away with putting off courting anyone, a lot of it having to be about "focusing on his studies and career" and while hes had PLENTY of potential suitors come knocking but he's always turned them away but when time comes for heket to debut its when the pressure is really on for narinder

THEN on the flipside there ovidia who has been insistent on taking on every role in their family, the head of which is the oldest matriarch who has yet to decide on who the next head will be and they have TRIED to court people but every potential suitor has just not lived up to the impossible standards theyve set but even WHEN theyre about to settle- something goes wrong and the courtship sinks and its always on the others terms

their family is large, but theyre only wealthy in the sense that such a large family that sticks together can hardly fail when everyone does their part. that alone make their name well known even if its unconventional

its at the start of the latest season that they try again where they first meet narinder and while everything almost seems perfect, the chemistry is almost instant but then they get a little too candid and ovidia talks too much about their situation and it triggers the part of narinders brain that fears becoming like shamuras marriage and a scathing remark both stuns and pisses off ovidia

one second everything is amazing, they seem to be on the same wave length, strong goals the other respects, even finding an initial attraction in the other but then he opens his mouth and theyve had it

they blow up at him and suddenly everything he does pisses them off and they'll start nitpicking everything about him and be right and their observations piss him off and then he starts going off on them along the lines of "i can see now why each season passes you by" to which ovidia is ready with a "as though your own haven't? one is left wonder if studying is why you've put off finding a spouse, or if that mouth of yours is to blame"

it self destructs right then and there and while they have no intention to cross paths again, of course they do

and it becomes some kind of pissing contest to find a spouse before the other does just to prove a point to the other than they CAN in fact find one and they both end up sabotaging each other unintentionally bc theyre still so into each other and in the short time they've gotten to know the other and even through the bickering it becomes apparent theyve put effort to remember things

its stupid, its messy, its what it is and im still thinking about it more.............

[alphafratworship]

It didn't take much to get him there did it. The FAGGOT came to me begging for me to give him a bigger dick. Gave me a whole sob story about how he was stuck bottoming with the 1 inchr the universe gave him that he'd do anything to TOP with a REAL COCK . Who am I to deny a FAG's request like that especially with such vague wording.

Bitch was a real Twink if you can imagine, played into the " HOLE " hyper femme stereotype. lean build, bubble butt with slutty clothes just begging for some attention and thinking they're so high and mighty until they were fucked silly by a real man. I have no problems with COCKSUCKERS , a HOLES A HOLE but when they are a whiney little fairy I need them to change.

When I agreed to help him after he begged he immediately got excited, especially when I told him to undress. "The process is simple BRO , I'm going to give you MY DICK , then you'll have more then enough meat to satisfy any bitch you want" his lil DICKLET betrayed his face, I know he didn't want to think of people like bitches, scrunching his face in false superiority as the idea of ​​giving him MORE then he wanted to make him hard.

"No offense to you don't call me BRO , bu..but like I don't think like that, just want a bi..bi.bigger penis to please my boyf.." he stuttered out before I laughed.

"I don't need to know that shit bro, all guys want BIGGER FUCKSTICKS it's normal!" I say slapping him on the shoulder emphasizing fuckstick by thrusting forward a little, getting him hooked on me with each movement.

"So you're just going to like give me your dick, like what about you? And how are...." He began to ask before I cut his whiney ass off. "Listen BOY I have no problem with you having my COCK , I'll be fine no worries and it's easier to just do it then tell ya! You good with that." The eager slut agreed

He only got harder when I adjusted myself before pulling down my pants, my 12 inches of man meat hard as I pictured the transformation this FAG was going to go through. His face flushed and he moaned as I turned him around and pushed him against the sink of the bathroom. He even tried to beg for lube as I pressed my raging cock head against his experienced hole but I just laughed and told him it had to be all natural. Spitting on it as I pushed in easily, his pain turning to pleasure as Alpha spit entered into his system. Warmth filling his body as I thrust in and out.

He tried to grab onto his cock but I shouted not yet, pushing his hands to the sink as I felt his ass take me all the way to the root. Plunging past his prostate and making him wail in pleasure. Once I was all the way in I felt it, the heat filling my member as my bull balls slapped against his smaller nuts. It was starting.

I could look in the mirror, my cocky sneer as I grunted thrusting into him grew wider as I saw him throw his head back, eyes rolling. The warmth turning to heat as inch by inch my cock shrank and his GREW. His moans and his begging first started getting louder, before they started cracking as he proclaimed he could feel it and finally his voice dropped deeper and slower. MORE MANLY. His ass meeting my thrust as pleasured over took rationality, his hole which started off loose became like a vice trying to milk me. It was working.

By the first two inches he'd grown taller, as the testosterone shot him up from his pathetic 5'5 to a modest 6 foot. The next two I watched as his muscles bulged out in his back, up his neck and shoulders, down his arms. His noodle arms became bulging biceps and carved forearms that anyone would fawn over as his back muscles became wide and defined giving his body a Doritos like shape. His body creaking as his moans turned to grunting, a panicked look on his face as his features hardened and he was worried about the transformation.

"N..NOO l.. I don't want...want like big muscles... BRO !" He cried out, his voice cracking before the word BRO forced itself out of his mouth, scaring him more. His body and face changing against his wishes as I kept pumping into him. "What are you talking about BRO , you LOVE MUSCLES , you're a giant MEATHEAD !" A shit eating grin formed on my face as my COCK and Alpha spit hammered my words into him.

"No BROO , not..not... I'm not.. a.. I'm a.. MEATHEAD I like MUSCLES on other.. ME n.. BROS !" his eyes rolling back as he tries to fight my words and pleasure in this losing battle. My cock shrinks another two inches dissolving into him as his body explodes with muscles, his pecs getting plumper, and abs shredded as his face loses the last bit of softness. His hole around my cock TIGHTENS again as his mind starts to give way to my ideas as his life flooded down to his balls inflating them.

"Yeah BRO , you like your muscles DUDE . You're a DUMB , MEATHEAD , who only cares about LIFTIN , GAINS and getting PUSSY !" I emphasize each word with a thrust as I see his face twist in confusion and pleasure. His FUCKSTICK growing bigger as mine shrinks again going down to four inches while his soon to be BABYMAKER hits 9.

"I... I don't like pu... GA...FAGS...im...GAY...FAGS.... BRO I just wanted a big dick what the fuck are you doing to me " He moans his ass thrusting back as his body tries to take the last inches of my cock. Craving it's virile, alpha, straight energy as I grab him by his muscle tits with one hand, the other going down to his cock. His eyes were heavy now his brain filled with images of lifting weights partying, tits and pussy.

"Bro I'm just giving you what you wanted, you wanted a my big dick. I gave you MY big STRAIGHT dick! It just also comes with muscle, a need for partying and 100% straight sexuality!" I laugh as he cries out. The pleasure was erasing who he was and dropping it down to his balls permanently where he cum it all out.

I let the last two inches go as I moaned NO HOMO in his ear, watching as his cock got to a size twelve, his ass so tight mine barely got in his hole. My balls here pent up I was close and so was he I just needed him to do one last thing.

" No...NO HOMO BRO , your..myour cock...sp big dude I can't take it..mneed to get into the frat NO MATTER WHAT! !!" There it was. My new bro didn't know how big I was but his ass thought I was huge still so it quickly made it so (god I loved magic)

When I came from the gigantic growth of my dick in such a tight bussy, bros he launched out a waterfall of cum. Guess that fag lived a big life but it wasn't nearly big enough for him obviously. But now, now it would be.

I mean one look at this studs pussy pounder is all it takes to get them wet

[enhaniki-san]

exes - reader x niki ✶⋆.˚

warnings: very suggestive content, cursing, angst, break up, etc.

it's first day of school for everyone but it would also be the first time you will see niki after the break up.

before, you just suffered alone. uninstalling all social medias so you wouldn't see anything about him but every time you closed your eyes, you would imagine his laugh in your head, the warmth of his touch, his smiles...

you will scroll through messages. his texts that are full of teasing words and reassurances, it's there, all untouched. your fingers would hover over his name, your chest tightening as you debated whether to reach out or not.

"i lost him." you'd whisper to yourself then you would cry and cry and cry every night you wake up with a headache.

the hardest part is realizing that deep down, you just might be replaceable cause he's niki, he can get whoever he wants without even trying so hard.

niki though, he didn't just became distant. he became irritated and short-tempered like... the smallest things would just set him off.

teammate joking about something? niki would snap with his sharp words enough to silence the entire locker room. accidentally bumping into him? his glare would freeze them in their tracks.

and at home, niki would push his food around on his plate, appetite gone. his mom would ask if he was okay and he’d just nod without looking up, muttering a quick, "yeah, i'm fine." sometimes, he wouldn't even eat at all.

he would also sleep too much, oversleeping so often that his friends stopped bothering to wait for him in the morning. the mornings where he usually wake up crying.

you were his first girlfriend, one person he actually loved.

you were sitting at your table, surrounded by a group of people from your class, all of whom were currently losing their minds over something you'd said.

"wait, wait- say that again!" one of them choked out, clutching his stomach from laughing too hard.

you smirked, leaning back in your chair with that effortless confidence that somehow came and went depending on the situation.

the table erupted into another round of laughter and you couldn’t help but grin, enjoying the attention.

across the room, niki can't help but to watch. he leaned back in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest while one eyebrow raised in a mix of confusion and irritation.

he saw the way you had those guys wrapped around your finger. loud laughters, they leaned in a little too much...

he rolled his eyes, "the fuck?" he muttered under his breath.

"bro, are you mad again?"

niki looked away from you for a second, glaring at his friend. "i'm not mad."

"you're mad." his friend shot back, smirking. "and for what? don't you realize you could get literally anyone you want? like, just pick someone and boom, problem solved."

niki scoffed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. he's becoming very tired of hearing it. "you think i care about that? i don't want anyone."

niki looked back to you. he watched the way you casually flicked your hair over your shoulder and how your eyes sparkled as you delivered another punchline that sent the guys around you into another laughter.

it annoyed him sure but more than that, it reminded him of why he fell for you in the first place.

when niki first transferred to the school, he was used to people staring. everyone wanted to know him, talk to him, be close to him. it was almost exhausting how predictable it was... girls blushing when he walked by, guys either trying to be his friend or acting threatened.

then you came.

you like him, just like everyone. you were shy at first but you weren't afraid to flirt with him in your own way.

you had this maddening ability to make him actually feel something, even when you were just teasing him.

one moment, you'd barely meet his eyes, acting like he was just someone you know.

the next, you'd hit him with some sly remark that left him wondering if you actually like him or if you were just messing with him.

and even after you got together, you didn't stop. you flirted with him at every chance, sometimes so casually that he didn't even realize it until later.

it drove him insane, in the best and worst ways.

you didn't know it but you made him need you. you were niki's constant, his balance, someone he always look forward hanging out with, and person who could make him smile even when he didn't want to.

and that’s why it makes him so much angry now.

whenever niki look at them, he saw himself. the way he used to hang on your every word and the way you could light up a room just by being there.

he sighed, dragging a hand through his hair as his friend nudged him. "you're staring again."

you were both invited to a small house party. it was alive with music and chatter when you walked in.

some of them greeted you, casually mentioning how good niki looked, unaware of the what had unraveled between you and him. others, who knew, just exchanged awkward glances.

niki was across the room and yeah, he looked good, like always. he was leaning against the kitchen counter with a cup in his hand as he nodded along to whatever one of his friends was saying. then he was approached by a girl right after another.

"niki, are you even listening?" she asked, pouting slightly.

he blinked, realizing she was still talking. "uh, yeah." he said though it was obvious he wasn't.

the girl huffed, crossing her arms. "you know what? never mind." she rolled her eyes and walked away, leaving niki standing there and barely noticing her departure.

niki decided to left the party the moment he saw you talking to another guy again. the rain started to pour hard just when he got outside. he cursed under his breath, pulling his jacket over his head as he jogged down the street.

he spotted a convenience store up ahead and stayed under the shed outside, shaking water off his arms as he muttered to himself about the miserable weather.

after a while, he heard the sound of hurried footsteps splashing through puddles.

you were running towards the convenience store, your arms raised over your head in an attempt to shield yourself from the harsh rain. and when you were about to reach the shed, you saw niki standing there. you froze.

your eyes met and niki gulped. quickly, you turned around and ready to just go back at the party.

niki rolled his eyes, muttering a curse. of course, he wouldn't let you stay out in the rain.

grabbing an umbrella from the corner of the shed, he ran after you. "y/n!" he called, but you didn't stop.

he reached you in a few quick strides, grabbing your arm and pulling you to a stop.

"what?" you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

"you're gonna get soaked, idiot." he said simply, opening the umbrella and holding it over both of you.

the two of you stood there for a moment, and without waiting for your response, he started walking, his hand still loosely holding your arm.

you followed him. not because you wanted to but because it felt easier than standing in the rain arguing with him.

when you reached the shed, niki released your arm and leaned against the wall, keeping the umbrella angled to shield both of you. you crossed your arms over your chest, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

niki then sat down down on one of the available chairs, his back's facing you.

and it wasn’t long before you felt someone watching you. you glanced up and saw a man who's clearly drunk, swaying slightly as he approached. his bloodshot eyes were fixed on you with an unsettling intensity.

"hey, there." he said, his words slurred but grinning wide. "what's a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?"

you took a small step back, clutching your phone tighter. "i'm fine, thanks." you said, trying to keep your tone polite but firm.

he didn’t take the hint, though. instead, he stumbled closer, shamelessly scanning you up and down. "c'mon, don't be like that." he said, reaching out and grabbing your arm. his grip wasn't harsh but it was enough to make your heart race.

"let go!" you said while trying to pull your arm free but his grip tightened slightly.

niki turned around at the sound of your voice. he stood up immediately, chair scraping against the wet concrete. "back off!"

the drunk guy barely had time to process what was happening before niki shoved him back with enough force to make him stumble. "i said back off or i'll beat the shit out of you."

the drunk guy ran, stumbling away.

you blinked, slightly stunned at niki's sudden aggressiveness.

"you okay?" he asked.

you just nodded, still trying to process what had just happened. "ye- yeah, i'm fine. thanks."

niki looked at you for a moment, his eyes scanned you to make sure you were really okay. he exhaled then sat again as he ran a hand through his damp hair. clearly tensed.

he patted at the chair. "can you sit here?"

"no."

niki shook his head and his lips twiched in disbelief.. "yeah, stand there so your legs will ache."

you scoffed. "why do you care?"

"oh, i don't. i really don't." he said. laughing dryly as if the idea itself was ridiculous.

"i shouldn't have stayed here." you muttered but niki heard it.

"then leave." niki said bluntly. you were about to let it go but of course, he just couldn’t stop there. "you're good at that, aren't you?"

you jaw tightens. "oh, don't start with that. you’re the one who-"

"you think this is all my fault again?" niki interrupted you. his tone's sharp as he raised his eyebrows at you.

you exhaled harshly, holding back whatever retort was on the tip of your tongue. niki looked away and you both fell into silence.

you both calmed down and ignored each other. but he's right... you're legs were starting to ache from standing. you glanced over at niki who's comfortably leaning back as he dried himself, you sighed. hesitating but eventually, you sat down beside him.

"when did you start beating people up?" you asked, half-joking just to break the tension.

he looked at you with a serious expression. "few months ago."

your eyes widened as you leaned backwards. "seriously?"

niki gave you a confused look. "no, of course not."

you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head at him. you watched him dry his hair, his damp strands falling messily over his forehead. you look at his face longer than it should have and you quickly bit your lip, letting your thoughts wander too far.

you can't believe you had that face between you legs before-

niki turned to you suddenly, squinting as if he could read your mind. you stuttered. "i- i swear i'm not thinking about anything weird!"

but he knows you too well. you gulped and just looked away.

however, niki did not stop staring. at first, it was just like "this girl..." then suddenly questions ran through his head. wondering when's the last time he heard your laugh, when's the last time you're this close to him...

and before he could stop himself, he leaned in, pressing his face to the side of your neck. and his hands crawled to your legs, gripping it gently.

"what are you doing?" you asked, caught off guard.

"who told you to wear this short-ass dress?" he whispered.

a small smile formed at your lips despite the ache in your chest. slowly, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your fingers brushing against his neck and one hand found its way to his hair, twisting the strands softly between your fingers.

he pulled back just enough to look at you. his eyes started searching yours, desperate and unguarded. then slowly, niki started to lean in.

you leaned too, meeting his lips halfway and his hand gripping your legs harder. niki kissed you like he was making up for lost time, pouring every ounce of his frustrations and longing into each movement.

he groaned softly against your lips. tilting your head gently, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

as his lips pressed harder against yours, your own lips started trembling. the weight of everything... the breakup, the pain... it hit you all at once. tears formed at the edges of your eyes.

you tried to hold them back.

"i miss you so much." niki said between the kisses.

you broke down, a sob escaped your lips and the tears began to fall freely. niki pressed a quick kiss. "why are you crying?" he whispered.

"because!" you choked out, the words catching in your throat.

he smiled. he didn't want to see you cry but somehow, the sight of you crying filled him with relief. to him, it meant that you still care and that you still feel something.

he cupped your face care and his thumbs brushed against your cheeks. he kissed you again and again, very slow as he savored every moment.

niki hugged you, your arms wrapped around his waist as you cried. he gave you multiple kisses on top of your head.

you started touching his body, his chest up to his neck and jaw, everywhere as you rested your head in his chest, "there's no one like you." you said, adding "i was so lucky."

he's just perfect. truly one of one in the world

after hearing those words, niki kissed you again, smiling. "please be my girlfriend again."

you nodded and laughed. "but i think i'll actually kill myself if i lose you one more time." you continued.

niki just smiled again, doesn't matter if you lose him 'cause he'll just always find his way back to you.

you both began walking down the street, still hugging and touching each other as if you couldn't bear to let go. niki’s hand occasionally grabs your arm or he'd wrap an arm around your shoulders or your waist to pull you close.

"you should sleep at my place tonight."

you bit your lip, shaking your head while smiling. "mmhm, i can't."

"why not?" he stopped walking, and turned you to face him.

"because... i might not be able to walk for weeks if i'll go with you." you said with a smirk.

his heart started racing for a second before laughing, he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. "you're right." he whispered, arms snaked around your waist. "it's gonna be so rough."

you pulled back, your mouth dropping open in shock. "i... i can't believe you just said that."

niki shrugged with a cheeky grin. "hey, when it's you saying things like that, it's fine. but when i say it, it's weird?"

"no... it's not weird." you muttered, looking away with a small smile. "i know you're sexy but you just became even sexier. what the hell?"

niki smirked when he heard your last comment, and before you could take another step, he bent down and scooped you up effortlessly into his arms.

you squealed, your hands instinctively grabbing onto his shoulders for balance.

"what?" he said with a teasing grin, holding you like you weighed nothing. "your legs are going to hurt anyway. might as well save you the trouble now."

read part-timers!niki x reader

read part-timers!niki x reader part 2

read snitch - reader x niki

read touché - niki x reader

read touché - niki x reader part 2

[missarchive]

Spencer request! Slightly mean dom spencer who watches his roommate reader watch a porn video where the guy is HOLDING the girl down to eat her out and she’s all flustered but very turned on but thinking there’s no way anyone gives head like THAT. And spender is a competitive little shit who needs to prove we wrong, obviously

i have never jumped to write something so quick, yes please!

cw; +18 minors dni, slight mean dom!spencer, munch!spencer, porn mention, unprotected p in v, masturbation (f), fade to black smut

"Please, God. Please, I need it. Please!"

Your cheeks flush hot as you stare at the screen, the scene unraveling before you more intoxicating than you'd like to admit. A girl writhes beneath a man who’s holding her down, his mouth working her with relentless precision. Your thighs clench involuntarily, a futile attempt to stifle the ache building inside you. Despite the muted volume, every moan, every gasp feels amplified in the silent room.

You shouldn't be watching this. Not here. Not now. But your body betrays you, legs shifting slightly apart, and a hand slipping beneath your oversized T-shirt.

"Fuck, don't stop," you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

One hand covers your mouth to muffle your voice as the other trails down your body. Your fingers pinch your hardened nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. The scene on the screen has your complete attention—the way his hands grip her thighs, his tongue teasing her until she’s arching off the bed. It’s a fantasy you’ve imagined countless times but never experienced.

You're just about to slip your hand into your underwear when a shadow moves at the edge of your vision. Your heart stops. Slowly, you turn toward the door, and there he is—Spencer.

He's leaning casually against the doorframe, a smirk curling his lips, his hazel eyes glinting with mischief.

"Am I interrupting?"

You yank the blanket over yourself, panic and mortification warring for dominance. "Spencer!"

He steps into the room, his gait confident but unhurried. "What exactly are you watching?" His tone is teasing, but the heat in his gaze makes your breath hitch.

"I-I..." Words fail you. Your face burns so fiercely it feels like it might ignite.

Without invitation, he sits on the bed beside you. Your blanket shifts as you try to cover yourself, but his attention is already elsewhere—focused on the screen. His smirk deepens as he leans closer, his shoulder brushing yours.

"Interesting choice," he murmurs.

His hand moves behind you, resting lightly on your lower back. The touch freezes you, every nerve in your body hyper aware of his proximity. When his fingers trail down, brushing over the curve of your hip, you finally manage to whisper, "What are you doing?"

"Enjoying the show," he says with a wicked grin, his gaze dropping to your lips.

You try to move away, but he catches your arm, pulling you back against the mattress. His face hovers inches from yours, close enough for you to feel his breath fan against your cheek.

"Do you want it that badly, baby?" His voice is low, almost a growl, sending shivers down your spine.

You hesitate, your heart pounding, your body betraying you as your gaze flickers to the unmistakable bulge in his jeans. "Y-Yeah," you finally whisper, the admission so quiet it’s barely audible.

His smirk widens. Without another word, he shifts, pulling the blanket away and settling between your legs. His hands guide your thighs apart, his touch firm but gentle. You can only watch, your breath caught in your throat, as he slides your panties down and leans in close.

"Open up for me," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "I want to taste you."

You comply, spreading your legs further, your body trembling with anticipation. His lips brush your inner thigh, his warm breath teasing your sensitive skin.

"You're so wet already," he groans, his fingers parting you to expose your most intimate self. "So fucking perfect."

When his tongue finally flicks over you, your hips jerk off the bed, a sharp cry escaping your lips. His hands pin you down, his strength and control both thrilling and maddening.

"Spencer—please," you beg, not even sure what you’re asking for anymore.

“Shh,” Spencer murmurs, his voice soft and coaxing as his lips ghost over your skin. His breath is hot, his tone laced with a quiet dominance that sends shivers rippling through your body. “Just let me take care of you.”

The words are a balm and a promise, and they melt into you as his tongue resumes its sinful dance. Each flick, swirl, and press is methodical yet maddeningly intimate, like he’s memorizing every quiver and gasp you give in response. He latches onto your clit with a hunger that leaves you breathless, and the sound of your name spilling from your lips is a melody he seems determined to orchestrate.

“Fuck, you’re so sensitive,” Spencer breathes, his voice husky and reverent as it skates over your ear, sending goosebumps scattering down your spine.

Your thighs instinctively clamp around his head, but he doesn’t falter. Instead, he grips your hips firmly, pinning you in place as though daring you to resist. The wet heat of his tongue flicks against your clit, and the jolt it sends through your body is electric.

“Spencer, please—please,” you whimper, though the words are a tangle of desperation and surrender.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, his arms like iron as he holds you steady beneath him. The sheets twist beneath your fingers as you arch into his mouth, utterly undone by the relentless onslaught of pleasure. Your body writhes, your breath coming in short, shallow bursts, and yet you’re helpless to escape the tide building within you.

“Spencer!” His name breaks from your lips in a cry, raw and uninhibited, as his mouth closes over your clit again, the suction pulling you under.

You shatter, the orgasm consuming you with a ferocity that leaves you trembling, your muscles locking and releasing in a symphony of pure bliss. He doesn’t let up, his mouth and tongue coaxing every aftershock from you as though it’s his mission to wring you dry.

By the time he pulls away, your body feels like it’s liquefied into the mattress, your limbs trembling as you struggle to catch your breath. He presses a lingering kiss to the inside of your thigh, the gesture so gentle that it makes your chest ache with its intimacy.

Spencer rises slowly, his lips glistening with the evidence of your release, his eyes dark and heavy with satisfaction. “You taste incredible,” he murmurs, his voice thick and rich like velvet.

Your pulse is still racing, your body thrumming with the aftermath of your climax as you meet his gaze. He smirks, brushing a strand of hair away from your damp forehead.

"Does this beat the video, baby?" he asks, his voice smug, but his gaze is tender as he watches you struggle to catch your breath.

You can only nod, your body still trembling as he leans up to kiss you softly.

His lips linger on yours, teasing, tasting, as though savoring the remnants of your moans. The kiss deepens, and you can taste yourself on his tongue, a sensation that sends a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

When he finally pulls back, his lips curl into a small, knowing smile. His gaze sweeps over your face, taking in the flush of your cheeks, the glassy look in your eyes, the way your chest rises and falls in uneven breaths.

"You’re so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

You try to respond, but your throat feels tight, words stuck somewhere between your mind and your lips. Instead, you reach out, fingers brushing against his forearm, grounding yourself in the solid warmth of him.

"Spencer..." you begin, unsure of what to say, unsure of anything except how desperately you want him.

He doesn’t let you finish. Instead, his hands move to your waist, and with a gentle but insistent tug, he lifts you slightly, repositioning you beneath him. His body hovers over yours, the heat of his skin radiating through the thin barrier of his clothes.

"You don’t have to say anything," he says softly, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I already know."

The weight of his words settles over you, both comforting and electrifying. He leans in again, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a path of heat in their wake. His teeth graze your collarbone, a sharp contrast to the soft press of his mouth.

As his hands roam, exploring every curve, every dip of your body, you become acutely aware of how much fabric still separates you. Your fingers find the hem of his shirt, tugging at it in silent insistence.

"Impatient, are we?" he teases, sitting back on his heels to strip off the offending garment.

Your breath catches as his chest is revealed, the lean lines of muscle and pale skin making your heart race all over again. He’s beautiful in a way that feels almost unfair, every inch of him carved with a subtle elegance that’s uniquely his.

"Better?" he asks, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

You nod, your hands already reaching for him, pulling him back down until his weight presses into you. His jeans are rough against your bare skin, the contrast only heightening the ache pooling low in your belly.

"So so good," you breathe, your voice trembling with a mix of need and hesitation.

He pauses, his forehead resting against yours. "Are you okay?"

The genuine concern in his tone makes your chest tighten. You nod quickly, your hands moving to his hips in an effort to pull him closer. "I want this. I want you."

That’s all the encouragement he needs. His lips crash against yours, the kiss deeper, hungrier this time. His hands move between your bodies, fumbling with the button of his jeans. You hear the faint rasp of the zipper, and then he’s kicking them off, the denim landing somewhere on the floor.

When he presses against you again, the only thing separating you now is the thin fabric of his boxers. You can feel him, hard and insistent, and the knowledge of what’s about to happen sends a shiver down your spine.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice softer now, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

"Yes," you whisper, your hands tangling in his hair as you pull him down for another kiss. "Please, Spencer."

He groans against your mouth, the sound low and guttural, as though the restraint it takes to hold back is almost too much. But he doesn’t rush. Instead, he takes his time, his hands trailing down your sides, his lips mapping every inch of your skin.

"God," he breathes, his eyes dark as they drink you in. "You’re perfect."

His words make you blush, but you can’t bring yourself to look away. There’s something intoxicating about the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Tell me if it’s too much," he whispers, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

"I will," you promise, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

Slowly, he shifts, the tip of him pressing against your entrance. Your breath catches, your body tense with anticipation.

"Relax," he murmurs, his hand soothing over your hip. "I’ve got you."

The reassurance in his voice helps, and you force yourself to take a deep breath as he begins to push in. The stretch is intense, a mixture of discomfort and pleasure that leaves you gasping.

"That’s it," he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple. "You’re doing so well, baby."

When he’s fully seated inside you, he stills, giving you a moment to adjust. His forehead rests against yours, his breath ragged, his hands gripping your hips as though anchoring himself.

"Tell me when," he says, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

You take a moment to catch your breath, your body adjusting to the sensation of him filling you completely. When the discomfort fades, replaced by a deep, aching need, you nod. "Now."

He starts to move, slow and deliberate at first, his strokes measured as he watches your face for any sign of discomfort. But as your moans grow louder, your nails digging into his shoulders, he picks up the pace, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate.

The pleasure builds quickly, coiling low in your belly until it feels like you’re on the verge of breaking apart. His name falls from your lips in a breathless chant, and he responds with a groan, his hands tightening on your hips.

"Come for me," he whispers, his voice rough, his movements relentless.

And you do. The orgasm rips through you, leaving you trembling and gasping as he chases his own release. When he finally follows, his body shuddering above you, it’s with your name on his lips, his voice thick with reverence.

Spencer collapses onto you, his weight warm and grounding as you both struggle to catch your breath. For a moment, the room is silent, save for the sound of your mingled breathing. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you feel the soft press of his lips against your skin, a tender contrast to the intensity you’ve just shared.

You run your fingers through his messy hair, the strands damp with sweat. He hums softly, nuzzling closer, as though reluctant to put any distance between you.

"You okay?" he murmurs, his voice muffled against your neck.

You nod, though the motion feels feeble with the way your body is still trembling. "Yeah," you whisper, your voice hoarse. "More than okay."

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you. His brown eyes are warm, searching your face with a softness that makes your chest ache. "You’re incredible," he says, brushing a thumb over your cheek.

Heat rises to your face again, and you can’t help but laugh lightly. "You’re not so bad yourself, Doctor Reid."

His lips twitch into a shy smile, but the teasing glint in your tone isn’t lost on him. "Not bad?" he repeats, arching an eyebrow. "I’ll take that as a challenge to improve."

The playful remark sends a flutter through your chest, and you swat at his arm. "Don’t push your luck," you say, but the grin tugging at your lips betrays you.

Spencer leans down, capturing your mouth in a kiss that’s slow and unhurried, as though savoring every second. It’s a stark contrast to the passion you’d shared just moments ago, but it feels just as consuming.

When he finally pulls away, he shifts to lie beside you, his arm looping around your waist to pull you close. You nestle into his chest, the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear a soothing rhythm.

You smile against his skin, feeling a warmth settle over you that has nothing to do with the lingering heat of your encounter. The weight of reality begins to creep back in—the uncertainty of what comes next, the implications of what you’ve just done—but in this moment, you let it all fade away.

Spencer’s hand moves in gentle circles on your back, lulling you into a state of peace. "For the record," he says softly, his voice tinged with a mix of humor and sincerity, "this was way better than the video."

You laugh, a sound that feels lighter than you’ve been in weeks, and tilt your head to look up at him. "Good," you reply, resting your chin on his chest. "Because I don’t think I’ll ever look at a screen the same way again."

He smiles down at you, his fingers brushing over your hair in a soothing rhythm. "Good," he echoes, his voice filled with a possessiveness that sends a thrill down your spine.

As exhaustion begins to creep in, your eyes grow heavy, and you let yourself relax completely against him. For the first time in what feels like forever, you feel safe, desired, and completely content.

[pretty-sparkle-bomb]

In which, a girl tries to flirt with one of the MHA boys. Part 1

Characters included: Denki Kaminari, Katsuki Bakugo, Eijiro Kirishima

Side Note: The reader is a badass chick 🤤

Katsuki Bakugo

Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t the sweet romantic type to anyone but you. He was the kind of guy who, in public, showed love in his own way—by pulling you into his side possessively, scowling at anyone who looked at you wrong, and grumbling curse-laced insults that somehow still made your heart flutter. In private? Yeah, I’ll leave that to your imagination.

He didn’t need anyone else. He had you. And that was enough.

Unfortunately, not everyone seemed to get the memo.

Like the new girl.

She had transferred into U.A. a few weeks ago, and from the moment she laid eyes on your man, she had been on a mission. At first, it was subtle. Asking him unnecessary questions in class. Laughing a little too hard at his brash remarks. Finding excuses to sit near him during lunch.

But then it got bolder.

She started showing up outside the gym when he was training. Bringing him extra snacks. “Accidentally” tripping in front of him so he’d catch her. Touching his arm and marveling at his muscles.

You could tell it annoyed him. Bakugo wasn’t exactly the patient type, and the way his eye twitched whenever she got too close was proof enough.

Yet, she kept pushing.

One day, she took it too far.

You and the Bakusquad were hanging out in the common room when she waltzed in, making a beeline for your boyfriend.

“Bakugo~” she sang, plopping down beside him, far too close for comfort.

You leaned against the couch, watching with mild amusement as he immediately tensed.

“The hell do you want?” he muttered, clearly uninterested.

She giggled, completely ignoring his irritation. “I made something for you!” She held out a scarf—black and orange, his colors. “I knitted it myself! I noticed you don’t wear scarves, so I figured I could give you one of mine. Now every time you wear it, you’ll think of me!”

You snorted. Oh, this girl was bold.

Bakugo just stared at the scarf like it was an insult to his entire existence. “The fuck? I don’t wear scarves.”

“Oh, don’t be like that!” She pouted. “Just try it on for me—”

Bakugo's eye twitched. "I ain't wearin’ that."

Her smile faltered for a split second, but she pushed on, lifting the scarf toward him. "Just try it on! I promise it’ll look great—"

Before she could finish her sentence, you snatched the scarf right out of her hands.

"Wow," you hummed, examining it. "Soft, warm… a nice shade of orange." You nodded thoughtfully. "You know, I think I know the perfect use for it."

She rolled her eyes at you, her happy-go-lucky personality disappearing instantly. “Really?”

With a sickly sweet smile, you turned on your heel, walked straight to the common room’s fireplace, and—without a moment’s hesitation—tossed the scarf in.

The flames swallowed it instantly.

A beat of silence.

Then—

"WHAT THE HELL?!" she shrieked, eyes wide with horror.

You dusted off your hands. "Oh, sorry. Did you actually think he was gonna wear that?" You gave her a pitying look. "It was just taking up space."

Katsuki, who had been sitting in stunned silence, suddenly let out a loud, barking laugh. "Damn, babe."

Kirishima was struggling to hold back his own laughter. Kaminari? Nearly choking on his drink. Even Mina was giggling into her hands.

The girl looked between you and the burning scarf; face twisted in disbelief. “Y-You—”

"You seriously thought he’d wear something you made?" you cut her off, tilting your head. "I mean, I get it. You tried. A for effort and all that." You shrugged. "But he’s already got everything he needs."

You turned back to your carmine-eyed boyfriend, who was still smirking, and leaned down to press a slow, deliberate kiss to his cheek.

"Right, Kats?"

His arm immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. He rested his chin on your shoulder, crimson eyes locked onto the girl as he smirked.

"Damn right."

The girl stood there, fuming, hands clenched into fists before she finally let out a frustrated huff and stormed out.

He chuckled against your neck. "Damn, that was brutal."

You grinned. "She had it coming."

He squeezed your waist, his voice low and amused. "Shit like that makes me love you even more, y'know that?"

Outcome: Scarf? Incinerated. Girl? Humbled. Relationship? Stronger than steel.

Denki Kaminari

Denki Kaminari had always been a flirt. From the start, he was a natural charmer, but when he met you, something changed. You grounded him. You made him feel loved and appreciated. You weren’t just another fling—you were the one who tamed him.

And when you two started dating, his flirtatious ways disappeared—at least, with anyone but you. Still, his naturally friendly personality sometimes sent the wrong signals, especially to girls who didn’t know any better.

Take a recent example. A new girl had just transferred to U.A. on recommendation. She was pretty, sociable, and quickly made friends with everyone—including you. But it was obvious she had a thing for Denki. She was always flirting with him, running her fingers through his hair, applying lip gloss the moment he walked in, dousing herself in sickly-sweet vanilla perfume so he’d notice whenever she passed by.

But you? You weren’t insecure. If anything, you found her antics hilarious. She actually thought she had a chance. Maybe she missed the lipstick stains on his cheeks and neck. Maybe she overlooked the way he whistled whenever you walked by, how he absentmindedly played with your hair while you talked to Mina, how he cornered you during lunch, hugged you from behind, or kissed the top of your head. Maybe she hadn’t noticed the matching promise rings, the shared bentos, or the inside jokes.

Oh, who were you kidding?

She knew.

She knew, and she was still trying.

One morning, while you and Momo giggled over your new matching nails, you caught sight of her in your peripheral vision. She was strutting over to Denki again. But something was different this time.

There, dyed into her perfectly shiny black hair, was a bright yellow lightning bolt.

And that was it.

You watched as she twirled in front of him, eyes sparkling. “Do you notice anything different?” she asked, her voice sickly sweet.

Denki looked uncomfortable. This girl was a whole new level of delusional.

“Uh, Amai… I have a girlfriend,” he stated flatly.

Her smile disappeared for a second before she stepped closer, recovering quickly. “Well, I don’t see her. Besides, she doesn’t have to know.” She tugged at his tie, pulling him from his standing position so that their faces were centimeters away, but he immediately placed a hand on her wrist, pushing her away. You took off your shoes and quietly strode closer to them.

By now, everyone in the room had gone silent, eyes locked on the three of you, waiting to see what would happen.

“Turn around,” you said, voice flat yet filled with annoyance.

Before she could react, you grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back. Her body arched, and she locked eyes with you in shock.

“Now you see her.”

In one swift motion, you pulled her to the ground and straddled her, delivering a solid punch to her nose. Something cracked. You hoped it was her nose—but then you saw something else.

Your nails.

Your beautiful, fresh, matching nails.

Broken.

“You bitch! You broke my nail!” you gasped in outrage.

Tears welled in her eyes as she stammered something, but you weren’t interested. Instead, you landed another punch.

It took both Denki and Sero to pry you off her—but not before you got in a good kick to her stomach.

Let’s just say one of you ended up in Recovery Girl’s office, and the other got detention for a week.

Mr. Aizawa, being the legend that he was, let you use your phone during detention. What an amazing teacher.

Eijiro Kirishima

You were used to people liking Eijiro.

It was impossible not to like him—he was strong, dependable, kind, and had the kind of energy that made everyone feel included. He wasn’t just a hero in training, he was a damn good person.

But Kanna Fukuda? She wasn’t just crushing on him.

She was competing with you.

Kanna was a Support Course genius—a prodigy when it came to crafting hero gear. And for whatever reason, she had convinced herself that you were just a phase, a distraction, something Eijiro would eventually “grow out of.”

She thought that if she could prove she was more useful to him—more essential to his future—he’d eventually choose her.

Too bad for her, Eijiro wasn’t choosing anyone but you.

At first, you ignored her attempts.

The custom gear. The constant requests to work with only Eijiro. The way she always “just happened” to be around whenever he finished training, ready with some new, “perfectly designed” item that would “enhance his performance.”

She was always hovering. But Eijiro never gave her any attention.

He was polite, sure, but he never went out of his way to talk to her. He never lingered when she spoke. Half the time, he didn’t even realize she was there because his attention was always on you.

And that? That drove her crazy.

One afternoon, in the middle of the U.A. common area, she made her biggest move yet. Eijiro had just finished an intense sparring session, sweat still dripping from his forehead as he leaned back against the couch beside you, resting his hand on your thigh.

And then, out of nowhere, Kanna appeared. How the hell did she get access to the 1A building?

She placed something onto the table in front of him—a brand-new pair of hero gloves.

“I made these for you,” she announced, smiling like she’d already won. “They’re impact-resistant, reinforced with carbon fiber, and custom-fitted to your exact hand measurements.”

Your eyes narrowed. Hand measurements? He sure as hell never gave her those. Eijiro blinked at the gloves, looking more confused than impressed. “Uh… thanks, but I already got a pair.”

“These are better.” She took a step closer, lowering her voice. “You should let me take care of you—I mean your gear, Kirishima. I mean, it’s kinda my specialty, right? I can make sure everything you use is perfectly tailored for you.”

And then, she had the audacity to glance at you—like she was proving a point, like she was winning.

You sat up straighter, a slow smirk creeping onto your lips. “Ohhh, impact-resistant, huh?” You grabbed the gloves off the table, turning them over in your hands. “That’s so impressive, Kanna. Really.”

Her chest puffed up. “I know, right?”

And then, before she could say another word, you used your quirk. A white light emitted and them you ripped the hideous pair of gloves in half.

The room went silent.

Kanna’s smug expression shattered. “YOU—WHAT THE HELL?!”

You tilted your head, examining the torn gloves. “Huh. I thought they were impact-resistant.”

“You—” Her hands shook as she pointed at you. “D-Do you know how long that took me to—”

“They weren’t gonna last,” you interrupted, tossing the ruined gloves back onto the table. “They were never gonna be strong enough for him.” You leaned forward, resting your chin in your palm. “You don’t get it, do you?”

Her lips pressed into a tight line.

You smiled. “You can make all the fancy gear you want, but he doesn’t need it.” You glanced at Eijiro, who was watching you with awe and admiration in his eyes. “He’s already strong enough on his own. And he sure as hell doesn’t need you.”

Kanna looked at Eijiro. Waiting. Hoping. Begging for him to defend her.

But all he did was sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh… yeah. Listen, Kanna, I gotta agree with her on this one.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “I really appreciate the effort, but… I already have everything I need.”

And then, right in front of everyone, he turned to you—grinned—and kissed you.

It wasn’t just some quick peck.

It was slow, deliberate, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing your skin—a clear, undeniable claim.

Kanna’s face flushed deep red.

She didn’t say another word.

She just grabbed the ruined gloves, turned, and walked out.

The moment she was gone, chaos erupted.

“OH MY GOD, YOU JUST DESTROYED HER!” Mina shrieked.

“THAT WAS SO FREAKIN’ HOT,” Kaminari howled.

Bakugo smirked, arms crossed. “About damn time. I was gonna blow her ass to America if she continued.”

Eijiro just chuckled, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. “Damn, babe,” he murmured, pressing another kiss against your temple. “That was seriously the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.”

You grinned, curling your fingers into his red hair. “Had to put her in her place, didn’t I?”

He laughed, pressing his forehead against yours. “Heck yeah, you did.”

And if anyone still thought they had a chance with your man?

They sure as hell didn’t now.

[thef1diary]

teamprincipal!carlos fingering you after he heard you say bad things about yourself after a race and making you praise yourself 😵‍💫😵‍💫

— good god nonnie 🥵 he will never let anyone speak badly about his driver. 18+ content below

The door to Carlos’ office slammed shut behind you, the tension in the air thick enough to suffocate. You paced the room, tugging at the sleeves of your race suit, anger and self-loathing swirling in your chest. The race had been a disaster—or so you thought—and the words spilled from your lips before you could stop them.

“I’m so fucking useless,” you muttered, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “I’m a goddamn joke out there—”

“What did you just say?”

Carlos’s voice stopped you in your tracks. It was low, sharp, and full of disbelief. He stood by the door, his arms crossed, his dark eyes narrowing on you like you were a problem he needed to fix.

“I—” you stammered, caught off guard by the intensity of his glare.

“Don’t you dare,” he muttered, taking slow, deliberate steps toward you. His tone softened, but it was no less commanding. “Don’t you dare talk about yourself like that.”

Before you could respond, his hands were on you, one gripping your chin to tilt your head up, the other slipping around your waist. His lips crashed against yours, swallowing your apology, silencing every self-deprecating word you wanted to say.

The kiss was rough, possessive, yet tinged with something almost tender. You gasped into his mouth as he pulled you closer, your bodies flush. His hardening cock pressed against you, and your hips instinctively ground against him, desperate for any kind of friction.

“Do you have any idea how fucking incredible you are?” he murmured against your lips, his voice laced with both anger and something softer—almost hurt. “How can you think otherwise?”

His hands found the zipper of your race suit, tugging it down to your waist. Beneath it, your fireproofs clung to your body, but Carlos was quick to strip you of the top, exposing your bare skin. His gaze raked over you, dark and hungry, as his hands cupped your tits.

“Let me remind you,” he said, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, rolling them between his fingers until they hardened under his touch. The sensation sent sparks straight to your pussy, and you couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped your lips.

“Sir,” you breathed, your body arching into his hands as he pinched and teased. The attention he lavished on your nipples had you squirming, your thighs pressing together in search of relief.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice softening as his lips brushed along your jaw, then down your neck. “So beautiful, so fucking perfect.” His hands continued their work, alternating between gentle caresses and rough pinches that left you gasping.

The heat pooling between your legs was unbearable by the time he pulled back, his hands sliding lower. He turned you around, pressing you against the edge of his desk. His palm slid beneath the waistband of your fireproof leggings, finding your bare, slick cunt.

“You’re dripping,” he said, his tone low and full of approval. “All this for me, hermosa?”

You nodded, your breath hitching as his fingers dipped into your folds, spreading your arousal.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, sliding two fingers inside you, his thumb circling your clit. His pace was maddeningly slow, deliberate, and utterly devastating. “Now, tell me what I want to hear.”

“I—I’m sorry,” you started, but his fingers froze. His other hand grazed up your back until he reached the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair before he tugged harshly.

He leaned closer, and you were able to feel the heat of his body surrounding you. “Wrong answer,” he whispered in your ear, his voice dark and dangerous. He pulled his fingers out of your pussy and slapped your clit, the sharp sting making you cry out.

“Sir, please!” you whimpered, your body trembling as he teased you mercilessly.

“Try again,” he said, sliding his fingers back inside you with a rough thrust. “Say something good about yourself.”

“I—I’m good enough,” you stammered, the pleasure building in your core.

“Louder,” he commanded, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that spot that made you see stars.

“I’m good enough!” you cried out, your hands clawing at the desk for support.

“And?” he pressed, his thumb pressing harder against your clit, making your legs shake.

“I’m a good driver,” you whispered, the tears pooling in your eyes as you struggled to believe your own words while focusing on the pleasure building.

“The best,” he corrected, his pace quickening. “Say it.”

“I’m the best!” you sobbed, your body shaking as the tension coiled tighter and tighter.

“Good girl,” he purred, his lips brushing against your ear as he worked you closer to the edge. “Now cum for me. Show me how much you believe it.”

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as he continued to thrust his fingers into you, drawing out every drop of your release. The wet, filthy sounds of your orgasm filled the room, your cries of pleasure muffled by his hand over your mouth.

As you slumped against the desk, breathing heavily, Carlos carefully flipped you over, a small smile gracing his lips as he noticed your tinged cheeks. He leaned down, grazing his lips over your neck before pressing a firm kiss to the spot behind your ear.

“Remember this, princesa,” he murmured, his voice softer but no less authoritative. “You’re mine. My driver. The best one on the grid. And I don’t let anyone—not even you—talk shit about my driver.”

want more team principal!carlos? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[absurdthirst]

Amantes Unitum {Marcus Acacius x F!Reader x Lucilla}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 22.4k

Warnings: Vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), promise of marriage, Roman politics, heart ache, infidelity (technically), public baths, mentions of orgies, flirting, wlw, threesome activities, fingering, breast play, face sitting, cock riding, development of feelings, treachery, imprisonment, death, grieving, arranged marriage

Comments: You have anticipated marrying Marcus Acacius since he was a young officer. The needs of Rome come before your own and you find yourself in a unique situation where your lover is married to the Empress of Rome to keep her safe from the madness of the Twin Emperors, Geta and Caracalla.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Marcus Acacius MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Marcus.” You moan, tilting your head as your lover moves above you. He’s pushing deep enough to shift you up the bed and you caress his back. “Amor.” He groans, kissing your exposed neck and he wants to spend every night in your bed. He plans to now that he has returned from war. He plans to ask your father for your hand. His amor. “You are so beautiful.” He murmurs against your skin, breathing you in.

“I missed you.” You whimper softly. “The months apart are too much. Take me with you.” It is a ridiculous request, but you would follow Marcus to the front line, into battle, if you could be with him every day. Your love for the quickly advancing in the ranks soldier, Marcus Acacius, might be considered foolish to some. As the daughter of a senator, you could have anyone, but you wanted him. You know he will be a general, but his status doesn’t matter to you. Just how wonderful he is.

"It's too dangerous, amor." Marcus shakes his head, not wanting you to be in that environment. He would love to have you with him every night in his tent but the mere thought of you being hurt is enough to make him shudder as he moves above you. "Your father would never forgive me if anything happened to you." He murmurs, kissing up to your jaw.

“Then when I am your wife.” You clench down around him as he rocks into you again. “We will spend every day you are home in bed. All day.” You promise. “I love you.”

Marcus groans at the confession, his heart pounding, and he knows he has to return to Rome in glory. That is the only way he can be with you, the only way you can be his. He shifts onto his elbow, his free hand sliding down your body to rub your clit. He wants you to fall apart for him. He wants to hear you cry out his name.

Being lovers for so long has given Marcus a very intimate knowledge of your body. Knowing exactly how to make you cry out in pleasure as he touches you. “Acacius!” You cry out as pleasure washes over you a few moments later.

Marcus loves the way you fall apart beneath him, his hand pulling away from your clit to cup your cheek. He presses his lips to yours with a low groan and rocks into you a little harder, faster as he seeks his own pleasure. "Fuck." He curses against your lips, his forehead pressing into yours as he thrusts one, two, three more times before he rips himself free from your cunt, his cock twitching as his hot seed spurts over your belly and the thatch of curls between your thighs.

You bite your lip, wishing that he could stay inside you, but you can’t risk a child. You already have to make sure that you drink your tea tonight, given to you by one of your servants to make sure you do not have a child before you are ready. “The great Marcus Acacius looks so wrecked when he cums.” You tease, caressing his cheek. “Amor.”

He tries to catch his breath, chuckling breathlessly as his orgasm rattles through his system. “One day you’ll be my wife. We will be together. I just need time to be worthy of you.” He murmurs, shifting to lay down beside you and he pulls you into his chest.

“You’re worthy now.” You insist, curling against his chest. “You will be promoted any day now and most of the men under your command already have families.”

Marcus sighs, "you know your father won't let me marry you. He wants you to be with a senator or someone with status. I am nobody. A boy who was brought to Rome to fight. To earn my freedom and climb the ranks in the army. I am doing that but I have no family coin. I have no property other than my home. I am nothing and I need to be something to have you." He murmurs and you shake your head, "you already have me." You promise but Marcus shifts to kiss your forehead, "I want all of you. I want you to be my wife. To have our children. To die knowing I spent my life loving you."

You hum softly, smiling as soon as you think about having his babies. Carrying them under your heart as you wait for him to return from another successful campaign. “That is what will happen.” You tell him, completely sure of your future together. “The gods will see it so.”

Marcus sighs, hoping you are right but the gods can be cruel. He closes his eyes and prays he doesn’t have to die without you being his wife. 

**** 

“Acacius.” You gasp when Marcus pushes into your home, your father is in the Senate but the servants will report your lover’s presence to him. Your brow furrows when you see how tense your lover is, his shoulders bunched. “I am to go to war again, my love. I- they have made me a General. The Emperors are young but they have been advised to give me this status. We can marry. As soon as I return.” He announces but he is worried he is being played a fool by the powers that be.

“Oh Marcus.” You reach up and caress his cheek. The unrest since the death of Commodus and Marcus’s former General, Maximus Meridius in the colosseum has set everyone one edge. Rumors were swirling that Lucilla had sent her son, Lucius away after power had been seized by the twins. No one had seen the boy in months. “I will wait for you and make plans.” You promise, leaning in to press your lips to his firmly despite the disapproving audience of your father’s servants.

He pulls you close, needing to feel you before he leaves. His men are packing their things and they are preparing to leave to conquer more land for Rome. “I love you.” He murmurs against your lips, “and I need you. Please, amor. One more time before I leave.” He pleads, his hand sliding down to squeeze your ass through your robes.

You turn your head towards the servants. “Leave us.” You command, knowing that they will have no choice but to obey you. Bowing their heads, they disappear and you grab Marcus’s hand to drag him towards the courtyard. It is cooler there and you want to make sure that you send your General off right.

Marcus lets you escort him through the villa until you are in the courtyard and he groans when you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close to press your lips to his. He responds immediately, sliding his tongue into your mouth, wanting to dominate you before he leaves you for gods know how long.

Moaning softly, you feel the determination in Marcus, knowing what he wants. Reaching up, you unpin the laurels that hold up your dress. Pushing back slightly to let the garment fall to the floor to leave you in your slippers.

His eyes trail along your form, darkening as he tries to memorize every detail to carry him through the long lonely nights of war. He is tenting his tunic but he steps closer to you and sinks down onto his knees, grabbing your thighs to drag you towards him. He wastes no time surging forward to press his nose between your thighs, breathing in your scent until his tongue slides through your folds.

“Acacius,” your gasp is quickly turned into a moan from the flick of his tongue across your clit. Marcus has never been shy about providing you pleasure and this is the last time you can be together before he leaves. Your fingers card through his hair, grinding your hips forward to give him more access to your cunt. “You are better than the women at the baths.” You praise breathlessly.

He doesn’t deny you pleasure in the baths. He loves that you are satisfied during his absence and he trusts that he has your heart. However, he is competitive and he wants to outshine those women. His tongue flicks until he sucks your clit into his mouth, loving how you moan loud enough for the servants to hear. Possessing you in the only way he can at this time.

You whimper his name, looking down and watching as a Roman general kneels down in front of you and feasts on your cunt. “Gods.” You moan loudly. “I wish to see this for the rest of my life.”

He groans in agreement against your cunt, sliding his tongue through your folds and his hand trails up your leg, lifting it up onto his shoulder so he can lap at more of your flesh.

Marcus devours your cunt, his tongue flicking over your clit and through your folds, Moving down to push inside your cunt while he holds onto your hips like he is afraid you would push away. You never would. "Maritus." you whimper, knowing that he will be your husband as soon as he comes back a victor in war.

His body shudders beneath you at the title, desperately wanting it and for you to be his uxor. He wants you to be his forever. His fingers dig into your flesh as he laps at you, his jaw aching as he widens it but he wants you to fall apart above him.

Your leg shakes and your knee threatens to buckle. Only kept upright by the broadness of Marcus's body and his strong frame keeping you fixed in place. "I- It's so good." you whine, rocking your hips forward again and your stomach lurches before you cry out in pleasure.

He loves how you shake above him when you cum, falling apart for him. He’s desperate as he works you through your high. His fingers squeeze your ass and he kisses your clit when it becomes too much for you. He watches you, resting his glistening chin on your belly and his hand slides down to your thigh.

​​“Take me.” You beg breathlessly, sinking down to your knees and reaching under his tunic to wrap your fingers around his cock. “Show me that I’m yours. Give me the strength to carry on in your absence.”

Marcus grabs your ass, lifting you to hover you over his cock. “Put me inside your cunt, amor.” He orders, your thighs on either side of his hips. “Take what you want. It’s yours. I’m yours.”

You shift slightly, reaching down and grasping his cock again to press against your entrance. “I love you.” You promise, pressing your lips to his as you feel him pull you down on his length.

He moans into your mouth, his tongue sliding against yours as you sink down onto his cock. You feel incredible and he wishes he could legally call you his. His hands squeeze your ass and he helps to rock you on top of his cock.

You are riding his cock on the ground of your courtyard and you don't care. The water from the fountain trickles nearby but it is not nearly loud enough to cover your moans. "Marcus." Your fingers push into his hair. "May the Gods keep you safe and return you to me."

He’s desperate as he ruts up into you, his fingers digging into your flesh as he takes you. He prays that it won’t be the last time but he doesn’t know when it comes to war. He could easily be struck down and left to rot on the battlefield. For now, he’s going to be greedy and have as much of you as possible. “I’ll fight with every breath I have to return to you.” He vows, kissing your neck.

“Yes.” You moan softly, holding him as close as you can get. “My general. My warrior, fighting for me.” You know that he could be lost and you would spend your entire life waiting for him to return. “Just you, never will I marry anyone but you.” You vow.

Marcus groans, knowing that might be an impossible promise but his heart pounds at hearing it. “Mine.” He growls, his cock twitching inside you as he scrapes his knees while thrusting up into you, his grip on your ass helping you rock on top of him.

Your coupling is fierce and passionate, both of you taking and giving all of yourselves to the other. Your gasps breathed into his mouth and you don’t care if the servants tell your father. You are Marcus’s and you will remain that way. “I love you.” Your strangled cry comes as your world shatters, body drowning in waves of pleasure as your cunt clamps down around him. “Stay inside.” You manage.

“Fuck. Are you sure?” Marcus grunts, not wanting to leave you with child while he is gone fighting. “Yes. Yes. It’s safe. I just bled.” You promise and he groans, his hips aching as he thrusts into you, his knees scratched up but he doesn’t care as he thrusts until he stills, his cock twitching as he paints your walls for the first time.

It feels perfect. The heat of his seed flooding your womb has you whimpering and for a moment; you wish that the gods will let you have his child even though you know it’s not possible. Not before you are married to him. Your father would be furious.

Marcus kisses you, wanting to possess all of you, but it’s not possible. He has to earn you. He has to become good enough for you. Even if it’s not you putting those perimeters in. “Amor.” He murmurs, caressing your back, “you must take the tea.”

“I will.” You promise, cupping both of his cheeks and kissing him softly on the lips. “Our children will never question their parentage.” You murmur. “I will carry your children as your uxor.” You kiss him again. “May the gods keep you safe.” You pull away and you take the ring on your index finger off and reach for his hand. “My love travels with you. This ring was given to me by Maximus when he was general of the Southern Legions, now it will be yours as you command your men.” You promise and put the ring on his pinkie. 

He looks down at the ring and his heart pounds. He wishes he could stay with you. Be your Maritus and spend his life with you but he can’t. He has duties, he has to earn you. He kisses you again, desperate and knowing this. Hold on the last time. He murmurs your name and holds you close until you hear footsteps and you scramble off of him, his cum dripping down your thigh but concealed by your robes.

Quickly flipping your top back up, you clip it into place with the pin and stand next to Marcus as your father comes out into the courtyard. “Acacius.” He hums. “It seems you are always in my home.”

Marcus stands straight, praying nothing is out of place and he nods to your father. “Senator.” He greets him and he hums, glancing between you and Acacius. “Shouldn’t you be preparing to leave for war.” He tilts his head and he nods, “yes, I came here to say goodbye to your daughter.” Your father nods, “very well. Say goodbye and be on your way. We are due to the palace to see the Emperors for a feast.” He raises his eyebrows at you and steps out the room, allowing you to say goodbye to Marcus.

“I would rather be going with you than feast with the emperors.” You promise him, reaching up to caress his cheek once more before you kiss him. “Fight hard and come home to me, General.”

Marcus nudges his nose against yours, “be good, amor, and I’ll be back before you know it. I’ll be yours. And you’ll be mine and nothing…no one will part us.” He vows, turning his head to kiss your palm before he lowers it from his face. He stares at you, wanting to commit your features to memory, knowing that’s what will carry him through the tough journey ahead. He nods and steps back, knowing that he has to leave or he never will. He bows his head, “I’ll be seeing you, uxor.” He promises and leaves your home, his stomach twisting with the desire to earn your hand.

**** 

Marcus is home. Your father had announced that the General would be honored in a series of games and feasts, making your heart pound in anticipation. He was coming home a hero. Finally worthy of your hand by his own imagined standards. It has been years since he was home for more than a week. Never enough time to marry or do more than spend a few hours wrapped up in one another. The twin emperors constantly sent him off to war in the name of Rome. Time has passed and still you have refused your father’s suggestions of finding a husband. There is only one man you want. You dress carefully and make sure that your father brings you to the parade to watch your future uxor receive his honors from the emperors.

Marcus waves to the crowd who scream and cheer, throwing tokens and flowers towards him, but he feels numb. War is brutal. War is vicious and he feels like a fraud for returning home in glory when so many men's beds are empty. The chariot stops and he waves to the crowd before he makes his way up the steps. The crowd cheers and he sees the emperors standing there waiting for him. He bows his head once he's there and he clasps his hands together while the golden laurel is placed on his head.

You watch, standing beside your father from the group of senators that have gathered. Pride bursting in your chest as the men whisper about Marcus’s accomplishments and his victories in the name of Rome.

The Emperors grin, clapping their hands, "now we feast!" They declare and Geta spins to face the group of senators. Marcus follows his gaze, his eyes widening at the sight of you standing there. You look as gorgeous as the day he left you standing in your courtyard. He murmurs your name, his eyes drifting to your father who bows his head to the accomplished general.

You smile, beaming as your father shows Marcus respect. “Father-“ you start and he sighs softly. “We will discuss your future later.” He reminds you. “Now is not the time. There is a feast planned and the emperors will be sorely upset if attention is not paid properly.”

Marcus is escorted to the feast without being able to approach you but he knows he will have an opportunity when the feast is in full swing. He will leave before the emperors begin their favored orgy. “To General Acacius!” Geta toasts and everyone raises their cups. You are a few seats down from Marcus who has been seated next to Lucilla. “To your safe return.” She adds and clinks her cup with Marcus’s.

You raise your cup in toast to honor Marcus, watching him with a yearning that makes your entire body ache. As soon as you can, you will whisk him away for a proper reunion. Lucilla leans in and murmurs to Marcus, but his eyes flicker towards you, making you nod slightly at him and smile.

Lucilla leans closer to Marcus and he stiffens a little at her proximity. “I need to speak with you, General.” She murmurs and Marcus frowns, his gaze trailing over to you as you sit beside your father looking even more beautiful than the day he left you to go to war. “Very well. We can speak.” He murmurs, “what do you wish to discuss, my lady?”

Lucilla takes a deep breath, her eyes darting towards the emperors before looking back at the brave and daring General. She had heard of his conquests for Rome and how fiercely loyal the men were becoming to him. It was good now that Maximus was gone and her life was in turmoil. “I fear that I am in grave danger, General.” She murmurs quietly, leaning in and laying her hand on his arm. “I need your help. I need you to marry me.”

Marcus frowns, glancing down at her hand before his eyes flick back up to hers. He is shocked at her request and he glances across the table to where you are seated next to your father. “I cannot. I am to marry another woman.” He murmurs, his dark eyes on her as her hand trembles. “The emperors wish to have me killed.” She whispers, “I need to take a husband. One who has power.” She confesses and Marcus nods, “let us speak in private. Later.”

You are curious to know what Lucilla is talking about with Marcus to put that frown on his face. His brows pinched together in concern. You take a sip of your wine and your attention is captured by the senator sitting next to you. “Your general must be eager to marry you.” Senator Graccus hums with a smirk on his face.

The feast is in full swing and soon the whores are being brought in for the emperors and their guests. “Escort me home, General.” Lucilla orders and Marcus glances at you before he nods, standing up and offering his arm. He can feel eyes on him as he escorts her through the crowd and soon he’s standing outside her courtyard. “What is this about, my lady?” He demands, his stomach twisting.

“Caracalla and Geta are suspicious of my influence over the senate.” She explains. “They are not satisfied by Lucius’ disappearance and have decided that I should be dealt with.” She shudders delicately. “The fact that they are my younger brothers does not mean much, and I need the protection of your rank.”

Marcus knows that Lucilla is the reason why the emperors haven’t taken out the senate to be dictators. They know she would tell the people of Rome about their crimes if the senate was removed. “I understand your dilemma, my lady, but I am to marry the woman I have promised my life to. She has waited years for my return. We were lovers before I left for war. I am hers, body and soul, and I cannot betray her.”

Lucilla sighs and walks towards the gate of her villa. The large, palatial home that seems more of a prison than a respite. “Then I am doomed.” She murmurs softly. “There is nothing I can offer you? Everything I have will be yours. My influence yours, my lands and coins, servants. I would willingly give them to you for the protection of your name.”

Marcus sighs, his heart torn and he thinks of you. “My mother was your tutor. I knew your father, I knew Maximus. You have been a constant in my life and I prayed to the gods for your son to be our next emperor. A fair and honest leader. That is not our fate. We must save Rome from the emperors. I fear their lust for power and hunger for land will never be satiated. I do not wish to see you dead.” He says, his shoulders slumping slightly as he knows what he must do, even if it’s against his heart.

There is a glimmer of hope as Lucilla turns towards you. “Yes?” She asks softly. “I know that I am asking much of you.” She murmurs your name, “has been awaiting your return to Rome with the eagerness of a new bride. I would not ask if it did not possibly mean the future of our people.” She turns towards the city, swallowing slightly. “Tell me what you are thinking, Acacius.” She begs. “Once my father and Maximus trusted you, and I trust you now. If there is something else that would save me, let me know.”

Marcus frowns, torn on what to do. He promised you that he’d marry you as soon as he returned from war. Yet he must protect Lucilla if he has to prevent Rome from suffering at the hands of the twins. “I- I will marry you, but I need her. I cannot live without her.”

Lucilla nods. “I understand, I would not wish to keep you apart.” She is somewhat resigned to the fact that she will never have a husband who loves her, but to have a man admit that he needs someone else stings her vanity slightly. “I will ask that she join my household, perhaps a companion?”

Marcus knows that you will not be satisfied with the arrangement and if you do not wish to follow him to her household, he will understand. It will kill him to let you go but he is being selfish by marrying Lucilla to save the Roman Empire. It’s a noble calling but one that breaks his heart because he cannot marry the woman he loves.

“Then you will do it?” Lucilla asks softly, wanting to make sure that they both understand. “I will.” Marcus agrees and she steps towards him and leans in, turning her head when he pulls back slightly to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.” She murmurs softly. “I would not ask if the situation was not dire and I will make sure that your lover knows that she is welcomed in your bed more than I.”

Marcus takes her hands in his hand, shakes his head. “I am doing this for Rome. Please accept my apologies, my lady, you are a beautiful woman but I will not be sharing your bed. I will only share my bed with the woman I love. She has waited many moons for my return and I owe her my body and my soul. You can have my name and my title, but the rest of me belongs to her.”

“You are an honorable man.” Her smile is slightly bittersweet and she squeezes his hands before she pulls away. “My wish is that the emperors will curb their excess and gluttony to become the leaders that Rome needs, but I do not see that happening. I hope that you know that I serve the people of Rome and sacrifice much for her.”

Marcus nods, “the Emperor’s are sick with both disease and greed for power. We must serve Rome for strength and honour“ Lucilla agrees and Marcus kisses the back of her hand before he bowels his head and leaves her villa. You must have returned from the feast by now so he makes his way through the city until he approaches your villa. Your father is likely still deep in his cups, but he slips to your room and knocks on your window, hoping you are still awake.

It had disturbed you when Marcus left the feast without a word to you, but you had been sent home by your father before the orgy began. Knowing that despite the knowledge you are not pure, you still have a reputation to maintain. You had been reading some scrolls to distract yourself, drinking a cup of wine when you hear someone outside your window. Making you smile as you stand and move to the curtains. “The conquering hero returns.” You murmur softly, smiling as he smirks. “Have you come to finally claim your prize?”

Marcus smiles up at you through your window and gestures for you to open it so he can climb into your room. Reminded of the times he would do that before he left to go to war. “What is my prize?” He teases, knowing he has to tell you the news but for a moment, he wants to pretend he’s returning to you.

You reach out and caress the decorative armor that covers his chest. “Me.” You hum. “However you want me.” You bite your lip and flutter your lashes up at him. “My father will have no problem accepting the lauded general as the man who marries his daughter.”

Marcus sighs, reaching for you to drag you into his armored chest. “Amor. I would marry you this second if we had a priest but I- I have a duty to Rome. You own me. Body and soul. Yet I find myself unable to give you my name.” You frown and he presses his forehead against yours so he doesn’t have to see your face when he says “Lucilla has asked me to be her husband.”

“What?” You frown and try to pull away but Marcus tightens his hold on you. “Why you? Why now?” You demand, starting to choke up as tears fill your eyes. Your love, your soulmate is going to marry Lucilla? After all the plans and working towards the future that you had both done? “Do you- you don’t want me to be your wife?”

Marcus shakes his head and your eyes widen, "no. No. I want you to be my wife more than anything. You know it's been my cause. What I have fought so hard for. But Amor, there is more than us. The Empire...she cannot be led into destruction by the emperors. Lucilla...we must find her son. The rightful heir. We must restore fairness and strength and honor to Rome. To do that, Lucilla must live and she is threatened by the emperors. She has no protector. She needs a husband and my status will protect her. If we are to be wed, if we want children...there has to be a Rome for them to grow up in. Otherwise, we are signing their death before they are even born."

“Children?” You choke out and pull away from him to rush back to your cup of wine. “You would have children with Lucilla, not me. She will be your wife, not me.” You chuckle unhappily and take a large gulp of your drink, wishing you had stayed at the feast.

Marcus shakes his head, cupping your cheeks, “I want to have children with you. I want you to be my wife but I can’t do that without protecting Rome from the emperors. We have no future if they are unrestrained.”

His words chill you, making you sigh as you pull away. “I understand.” You murmur, hating that your dreams are being crushed under the sandals of fate.

“I spoke to Lucilla about you. She said you can come live with us. As her companion but you’ll spend every night in my bed. I know I am asking you to love me from the shadows, to essentially be my whore, but I’ll make sure you are cared for. That you never want for anything.”

“Your whore.” You close your eyes and bite your lip. You had dreamed of being his wife, carrying his children and his name proudly. Now, you would be his whore. You had once told him that you would take him however you could have him. “My father would not be happy. He knows that we have been together, that I am not pure.”

“I will let you go. If you do not wish to accompany me in this journey but we have come so far. I love you. My heart is yours. Will always be yours. I need to do this. For Rome. For our future. It won’t be forever. Lucilla has promised a divorce once Lucius is found and the twins are defeated.”

You frown, hating the idea of being apart from him after so long. You step closer to him and reach up. His dark eyes are focused on you and you can tell that if you were to strike him, he would let you. Instead, you caress his cheek. “I have always been yours.” You remind him. “I played your whore since the first time I let you between my thighs and if that is how I have to keep you? Then I will be her companion.”

“You’ve never been my whore. You’re been my lover. My goddess. The one who owns every ounce of my form. I am yours, amor. In every way but name. And one day, my name will be yours too. I love you.” He vows, leaning in to kiss you softly. “I shall speak with your father. If he doesn’t allow it then I will understand. He wants what is best for you and you deserve a life where you are the lady of the house. Not a life spent in the shadows with me. I wish I could proclaim to Rome that you are mine and I am yours but I must serve the empire. I will marry Lucilla and, pray to gods, you will be by our side until we can be one.”

“I will do whatever I must to stay beside you.” You murmur softly, pressing into him and leaning closer to kiss his lips. “Now, take your spoils, General.”

Marcus feels wrong taking you without giving you his ring but he desperately needs you. Imagined this exact moment so many times when he was fighting to survive, aching after taking the lives of too many men to count. He surges forward to kiss you, groaning into your mouth as he slides his hands down to squeeze your ass.

This is the Marcus you have been eager to have back. The passionate one, the one that is desperate for you. Your own fingers start to tear at the ties to his armor, wanting it off of his frame so you can touch the man underneath the solid image. There has been a statue of Marcus placed close to your bathhouse and you often think of how much it looks like him but does not feel like him. He is soft and strong, not unyielding like the marble image of him.

He lets his armor drop and grabs it to set it on the floor, letting you work on removing his sandals, untying them and his wrappings until you are reaching for the hem of his tunic. “I am scarred. More than before.” He warns you, not wanting you to be upset by the injuries that are haunting his body.

“More of you to kiss.” You promise, believing that every scar on his body was proof that he fought to come home to you. “My general.” You slowly lift his tunic off his body and groan in arousal at the sight of him. Strong and soft, his cock is jutting out from his body, already hard and you tenderly caress the scar in his side. “Be more careful, amor.” You whisper, leaning down to kiss it gently. “You need to come home to me.”

Marcus wishes more than anything that he could claim you as his wife in this very second, but he has always struggled with his desire to do the right thing over his own desires. He must marry Lucilla to protect Rome otherwise his own selfishness or ultimately lead to the demise of everyone within the empire.“I have come home to you, my love. No matter what happens, remember that every part of me is yours. I carried your ring with me into battle and that is why I am still here today.”

You know that Marcus had visited the baths before the feast so you don’t hesitate to sink to your knees in front of him. The ring is still on his finger and you smirk as you reach out to grasp his cock and roll the foreskin back to reveal the leaking and neglected tip. “Then let me give you your reward for coming home to me.” You coo before you lean forward and wrap your lips around him.

His chest heaves when you take him into your mouth. Marcus has not been with a woman since he was in your bed. He has taken himself in hand and ensured his celibacy and dedication to you, imagining how sweet the feel of you will be after so long and he was right. “Fuck.” He pants, his chin resting on his chest as he watches you take what you want from him.

You hum in agreement, enjoying the salty, musky taste of him, the oils that had perfumed his bath mixing with his natural scent and you hollow your cheeks to take him deeper. Wanting him to unravel for you, to release all the tension and frustrations from your time apart on you. Reaching up, you grasp his ass and rock him forward into your mouth as you look up at him.

“Fuck. Your mouth. I’ve missed it more than anything. I’ve missed you, amor. Gods, you are my deity. I worship you.” He promises and moans your name, caressing your cheek.

You giggle slightly but you don’t pull away. Pressing deeper until your nose is buried in the wiry hair at the base of his cock. Swallowing around him again just to hear him groan your name before you slowly start to bob your head.

You’ve always been so damn good at this. Especially since you’ve only ever touched him. You know exactly what he wants because he was the one to show you. He watches you with dark eyes, groaning your name as you let him push down your throat with every thrust.

It’s sloppy, tears leaking out of your eyes and saliva running down your chin, but you don’t pull away. You want him to fuck your throat, to use you like he needs. He will make sure that you are pleasured, you have no doubt about that. He never leaves you unsatisfied.

He grunts, his cock twitching in your mouth as you sloppily take him into your mouth. It’s messy and he fucking loves it. Grabbing the back of your head, he keeps you still so he can rock into your mouth, your eyes on him and he groans your name. It doesn’t take long until he starts to spill down your throat.

The first time Marcus cums after returning from war, it seems like he never will stop. Rope after salty rope spills down your throat and pushes out of your mouth when you can’t swallow fast enough, making your cunt ache with anticipation as you drink him down.

He feels wrecked as you take all he can give. His eyes squeezed shut while your name tumbles from his lips. “Fuck. Amor, I need - come here.” He growls, grabbing your arms to pull you up from the floor after you release his cock and he presses his lips to yours, fingers searching for the pin that keeps your dress on your body.

You groan into the kiss, hands stroking his body as he unclips your dress and lets it fall to the floor. “Marcus.” You moan softly. “Take me to bed.”

He nods, his hands grabbing you to pull you close as he walks you backwards towards your bed. “I’ve missed you so much.” He murmurs, kissing your shoulder as he lowers you down onto the bed. Kneeling between your thighs, he presses kisses everywhere he can reach until he kisses down your chest to take your nipple into his mouth.

Your gasp is loud, fingers tangling into his hair and you arch up into his mouth. Offering yourself to him like you have every time you have been with him. “Acacius.” You whine, loving how he bites down and then soothes the pain with his tongue.

Marcus groans, kissing along your skin until he’s taking your other nipple into his mouth, biting down. He kisses down your stomach, pushing your thighs apart with his shoulders until he is settled between your thighs. “Gods I’ve missed this.” He confesses, inhaling your scent.

You moan softly. “I’ve missed your tongue between my thighs as well.” You tease, looking down at his eyes as his lashes flutter slightly. “Your cock, inside me.”

Marcus groans, loving how you press his cheeks between your thighs. He wastes no time sliding his tongue through your folds. He loves your taste, your tang as he samples the arousal he’s missed for so long. “Fuck, taste so good, amor.” He murmurs, diving back in to slide his tongue through your cunt.

Your own moan is loud and lusty, approving of the way the dives into you. Your lashes flutter but you want to watch him as he pleasures you. The women in the baths can’t compare to the eagerness of your lover as he devours your cunt. You had not been going for the past months, wanting to wait until your Marcus was home to cum again, so every swipe of his tongue quickly works you up.

Marcus’s fingers dig into your flesh as he laps at you. He groans as he pushes his tongue into your cunt. He loves how you moan his name and he’s dreamed of this so many times. He loves it. He loves you. He wants to do this for the rest of his life.

He laps at you and you feel the familiar knot starting to curl in your stomach. “Marcus.” You pant softly, reaching down and tugging his hair slightly to pull him back up to your clit. “I’m so close, amor.”

​​He needs you to fall apart for him. He wants to spend hours between your thighs, ruining you and claiming you after he’s been gone for so long. He moans into your flesh, his lips wrapping around your clit to push you over the edge.

The strong sucks to your sensitive flesh tips you over the edge and you feel your body lurch up as you cry out. Your cunt clenches around the two fingers he quickly pushed inside you and you soak them while you shatter.

When you cry out, he groans, his cock hardening against your bed as you soak his face. He works you through it, his hands caressing your hips, and he loves your sounds, your taste. So many memories brought back after so long away from you.

Marcus doesn’t pull away until you are shuddering and sobbing as you squeeze your thighs closed. “So good.” You urge him up to press your lips to his. “I love you, amor.”

He slides up your body, wasting no time in pressing his lips to yours. You don't care about the tang of your cum on his tongue as it slides into your mouth and his cock is hard, pressing against your thigh.

“Insatiable.” You grin against his mouth and reach between you to cup his cock. “I want you inside me.” You moan. “I just finished my bleed so I want you to fill me up. I’ll drink the tea, but I need you to claim me.”

Marcus knows he should say no. He shouldn’t risk you especially when he cannot take your hand like he desires but he also can’t deny you. He groans and takes himself in hand, shifting up until he notches himself at your entrance.

The first push of him inside you is always the best feeling in the world. “Oh Marcus.” You lift your legs onto his hips and wrap them around his waist. “Amor, I have missed this. Missed you everyday.”

He breathes you in, “I love you. I will always love you. I’m yours.” He vows, “thought of you every moment I was away. When I went on the battlefield, I fought to come back to you.”

You wrap your arms around him and pull him close, wanting his whole weight on you. “I will always be here for you. I want to be here for you. Your sanctuary.”

He loves how you feel under him as he rocks into you. “You will always be by my side.” He promises, “I love you.” He murmurs, kissing along your neck and he sighs, feeling like he’s returned home.

Every thrust is a proclamation of his love for you. You know Marcus is torn between his duty to Rome and his love for you. You cannot make him choose. “Amor.” You whisper, stroking his back as he moves over you. “My love. I am always yours. This life and the next.”

“I’ll give you all of me when Rome is free.” He vows, “and I’ll love you until the day I die.” He promises, his cock twitching inside you as he makes love to you. “I’d die for you.” He breathes into your mouth as he kisses you.

“Never have to die for me.” You know he would, though. He would do anything for you, just like you would do anything for him. You are, you are giving up your vision of the future because you know he needs to do this. Rocking your hips up to meet his thrusts, you kiss him back fiercely, moaning into his mouth.

He wants to feel you cum around his cock again and his hand slides down your side until he’s gripping your thigh. He loves how you moan when he adjusts your leg so he sinks deeper into you.

“Acacius.” You gasp when he presses against something inside you. “There, just like that.” You beg, your nails starting to dig into his shoulders. If you leave half moons embedded into his skin, you will be proud to see the marks on him.

He would wear your mark everywhere, show all of Rome that he is yours, but he has a duty to fulfil. He groans and thrusts into you a little faster, wanting to hear you cry out his name. He focuses on that spot, rocking into you. “Cum for me, amor. I want to feel it.”

You whine his name, your body reacting to his demand. Eyes closing as he rocks you closer until you are sobbing out his name and your cunt clenches around his cock.

“Fuck.” He curses at the way you soak him, squeezing his cock like a goddamn vice. He shifts his knees, grabbing your other thigh to push it back and he lifts your calves over his shoulders. Sinking deeper into you, his jaw is clenched and he wants you to fall apart one more time before he cums.

All you can do is take him. He has you pinned down as his hips start to drive harshly forward. Hammering into you at the perfect angle to have your toes curl as you squeal.

His eyes are focused on you, the way you throw your head back, and he growls, wanting to possess you. He thrusts into you over and over, your cunt squelching as you take what he gives you. “That’s it, amor. Fuck, you feel so good.”

You can’t even talk, just moan as he drives into your body. Rocketing you higher as you cling to him. He’s determine to see you cum again, not stopping until you are seizing up underneath him again and screaming. “Marcus!”

You cum for him again, your juices hitting his stomach as you convulse beneath him. He grunts, nostrils flaring as he rocks into you, and it only takes a few thrusts for him to bury himself deep. Your cunt is squelching as he paints your walls with his seed, uncaring if it takes. You belong to him.

**** 

“You want me to be present?” You frown slightly and look past Marcus to see Lucilla watching, her hands twisted together and her eyes showing how worried she is. Marcus had insisted you come with him to the estate but you had imagined they would speak their vows in private with other witnesses beside his lover.

“I need you to be there.” He pleads, his hands finding yours to squeeze them. Lucilla understands that you are the woman he loves and she doesn’t need Marcus’s love, she just needs his status and protection. You bite your lip, knowing it will not be easy to stand by and watch your lover marry another woman after you’ve dreamed of being his uxor. You nod, “okay” you murmur reluctantly and Marcus brings your hand up to kiss it. “Thank you, amor.”

You can tell that Lucilla is uncomfortable, several senators gathered to watch Marcus and the former emperor’s daughter marry. You nod respectfully to the general and move over to where your father is standing, looking less than pleased but resolute. He had initially disagreed with the idea of you becoming Lucilla’s companion, but you had reminded your father that you would simply do as you wished without his permission if needed. In the end, he had begrudgingly given his approval, though you know he is unhappy.

Marcus takes Lucilla's hands in his, his palms a little sweaty but she doesn't seem to care. She offers him a soft smile and he relaxes a little. The priest begins to speak but Marcus keeps his gaze fixed on his new wife, knowing that he wants to look at you. He manages to speak his vows while Lucilla squeezes his hands and soon, the priest declares them maritus and uxor. Marcus leans in to press a soft kiss to Lucilla's lips for the crowd and he lowers his hands from hers, his stomach twisting with the uncertainty of the future.

You manage to not cry during the ceremony, keeping your head held high and an almost pleased expression on your face even as your heart breaks. You know why he is doing this, but it is still hard to watch your lover marry another woman.

The feast begins soon after the marriage contract is signed and Marcus wants to find you, pull you close and reassure you that this is just the beginning. He can't though, he has to put up with the pretense and he is seated beside Lucilla, sipping his cup when the music stops. "Ah, General. Lucilla. Congratulations are in order." Geta grins and claps as he strides into the room unannounced, followed by Caracalla who has his monkey on his shoulder.

You frown at the appearance of the emperors, hiding your disgruntled expression behind your cup. They are the reason that you are unable to be married to Marcus now. Why this feast is for him and Lucilla.

Caracalla grins, gesturing for a cup of wine which is promptly placed in his hand. He steps towards Marcus and Lucilla. "Congratulations to the happy couple. Such a sudden wedding but my brother and I love romance and you two...well, two of the powerful figures in the empire. Apart from me and my brother of course." Geta grins, raising his glass, "to the happy couple. May their marriage be without complications." The emperor's eyes flick over to you.

You look away from the emperor, aware that the rumors of your relationship with Marcus have been often whispered about since the announcement that he would marry. You lift your cup. “To the happy couple.” You parrot softly, turning back to meet his gaze steadily.

“Senator Brutus,” Geta smirks at you before cutting his eyes over to your father. “Does this mean that your daughter is finally willing to consider a marriage match?” He asks before tilting his head towards Marcus. “The senator’s daughter was most stubborn about not marrying yet.” He explains, like everyone in the room isn’t aware of the reasons why you had waited.

Your father clears his throat, “perhaps but she has been asked to be a companion for the lovely bride.” Your father gestures to Lucilla. “She will remain in this home until she finds her match. She is my only daughter and I want her to marry for love.” He says and Caracalla scoffs, aware that the General is getting to have his cake and eat it.

You act like you are not being discussed and take a sip of your wine, leaning over to whisper to Graccus. “The senate is convening soon, I hope?” You murmur.

Your father nods, “yes. We have spoken to everyone we trust.” He whispers as the emperors walk over to Marcus and Lucilla to offer their congratulations. Marcus offers them a stiff smile and bows his head, “emperors. Thank you for gracing our marriage with your divine presence.” He says stiffly and Lucilla places her hand on his arm, “it is an honor. We thank you and you are welcome to whatever you want from our table.”

Geta hums, arching a brow and smirks at Marcus. “I seriously doubt that the General would appreciate what I would wish to have from this table.” He jokes.

Marcus clenches his jaw but offers a stiff smile while Lucilla squeezes his bicep. “And what do you wish to have from this table, Caesar?” Marcus inquires despite knowing he won’t like the answer.

Turning towards you, he points dramatically. “Her.” The room goes completely silent until the emperor starts to giggle like he’s said something hilarious. Others around the room start to chuckle quietly so they don’t offend the temperamental ruler.

Marcus inhales deeply, trying to refrain from standing up and wrapping his hands around the throat of the impertinent ruler. Instead, he chuckles, and tilts his head, “she is her own person. She can decide who she wants but I think you’ll find that she is unsuited to someone of your stature. You should have a princess or an empress.”

You hum in agreement. “You would find that I am boring, Caesar.” You admit. “I often sleep early in the evening and rise before the sun breaks over the horizon.” You know that the emperors prefer to keep late hours and are never awake before noon.

Caracalla smirks, “my brother needs someone who will force him to keep a more reasonable schedule. Perhaps having an early bird as his partner would make him a better Caesar.” Marcus’s eyes flick between you and the emperors, his heart beating and Lucilla squeezes his bicep again to keep him quiet.

You say nothing, just smile blandly at the emperors until Geta begins to laugh again. “I am teasing!” He cackles, clapping his hands together once before he snatches a cup of wine off the table, not caring whose it is. “You are far too mature to be my partner.” He snorts. “Or perhaps I am too merry?”

Marcus exhales shakily while Lucilla giggles, squeezing him to remind him to laugh, and he offers the emperors a stiff smile. Your father chuckles awkwardly and you giggle, pretending to be amused. “You are far too good for a woman like me.” You promise and Marcus wants to scoff but the stiff smile remains on his face.

“That I am.” Geta agrees haughtily and then decides that he is done amusing himself with your situation and drifts off. You breathe a sigh of relief and glance over at Marcus for a moment and look away guiltily when you find Lucilla watching you.

Marcus wants to go to you but he knows he can't. He looks at Lucilla whose eyes flick to him and she reaches for her cup of wine to take a sip. Marcus sighs, knowing that he has to fulfill his duty but he truly wishes you were sat beside him as his wife. "Let us celebrate the happy couple!" Geta cries, slapping his hand on the table and the gathering becomes rowdier.

You watch the scene, heart aching and yet you do not leave. You do not wish to give anyone a reason to gossip. You sip your wine and watch as the emperors get drunk and start to plot when you can politely leave.

Marcus is unsure about the wedding night, hoping Lucilla doesn’t want him to bed her. He sips his wine, trying to not get drunk and feel sorry for himself even though he put himself in this position. He sees you stand, making your way out into the courtyard and he can’t stop himself from standing up and following you.

Walking out into the gardens calms you, taking in the lush scenery and fresh air. The emperors have demanded that excess wine be brought in and essentially an orgy has begun.

Marcus approaches you once you are outside and he fiddles with the ring on his pinky. Your ring that you gave him before he left for war. “Amor.” He murmurs, “are you okay?”

You turn to see Marcus coming towards you, his expression cautious and you give him a small smile. “I will be.” You don’t brush aside his concern. “It has been an interesting day.”

Marcus sighs, “you’re not wrong there.” He steps closer to you, reaching out to caress the back of your arm. “I’m sorry you’ve had to watch this. Be present for this.” He murmurs, knowing he would have a hard time watching you marry another man.

“I know you are doing this for Rome.” You murmur, looking into his eyes. “I am jealous that she has your name.” You admit quietly. “The honor of being General Marcus Acacius’s wife, but I know that she doesn’t have your heart, your love.”

Marcus shakes his head, uncaring as he steps closer to cup your cheek. “She will only have my name. She will never have my soul, my heart, my body. That belongs to you. Always.” He vows, wishing he could give you more than that. “I wish it was you.”

“Are you sleeping with her tonight?” You ask softly, unsure if you want to hear the answer. “No.” You twist your head to find Lucilla standing on the edge of the courtyard. “He will be in your bed, your rooms have been set up. There is a secret passage that connects them so even the servants will not know.”

Marcus feels guilty for not being a true husband to Lucilla but he is doing this for her, to save her life. Not because he loves her. He nods, “I wish to have her in my bed tonight.” He says, gesturing to you.

You doubt Marcus sees it, but there is a flash of disappointment on Lucilla’s face before she smiles and nods. “Of course, maritus.” She hums softly. “Perhaps you are ready to leave the celebration? It is starting to become an orgy.”

Marcus nods, knowing you will not want to be present for that. “Yes, shall we retire?” He asks Lucilla, “we can tell people we wish to consummate our marriage in private.” He says, holding his arm out for her, “and my amor can retreat to her room.”

You fall back behind the couple, admiring your lover’s strong back and you understand completely why Lucilla Euler chose Marcus as her protector. You follow them back into the hall and yawn discreetly to give the impression that you are tired.

Marcus winces at the sight of the whores being brought in, your father and the other senators missing from the crowd now that the debauchery is beginning. Marcus strides over to the emperors with Lucilla on his arm, a forced smile on his face, “we are retiring. I have waited all day for my uxor.” The emperors turn their faces from the men and women kissing them to look at the general. “Of course. Of course. I hope you know you will struggle to fill her womb. She is old.” Geta says cruelly and Caracalla laughs, “yes. Good luck, Acacius.” Marcus clenches his jaw, hating how cruel the brothers are, but he doesn’t react, knowing that nothing good can come of it. “Come on, uxor. Let us retire.” He says, guiding her through the hall.

“You could still bear a child if you wish.” You murmur to your lover’s wife as he guides her away from the revelry behind you. “Perhaps you should find yourself a lover?”

Lucilla shakes her head, “I do not wish to be with child. They would only be a target for the emperors. I simply wish to find my son. Marcus can help me with that.” She says and you look at your lover who nods, “we will find him. He is the true emperor.” He whispers, knowing even breathing those words means treason.

Lucilla’s villa is larger than your father’s, her position and wealth unable to be undermined by the emperors - for now. You know that one of the reasons she has sought a marriage with Marcus was to be able to keep the things her father had given her. You seem to walk across the ends of the earth before you come to a set of doors. Lucilla pauses and turns back towards you. “This is to be your room.” She opens the door to reveal a luxuriously appointed room. “Come I will show you the passage.”

Marcus watches you as you enter the room, eyes wide at the luxury of the gold and garnet. He wanted you to be comfortable here, requesting Lucilla give you a beautiful space since you are sacrificing your security and your love for her protection. "It is gorgeous." You exhale and Marcus hums in agreement but he's not thinking about the room. Lucilla sees his gaze and smiles sadly, knowing she is the reason why tonight is not a celebration for you and Marcus. "I shall leave you." She says, making her way to the secret passage to go into the room next door.

You watch as the door slides shut with fascination but then you are distracted by Marcus coming behind you and wrapping his hands around your waist. “Amor.” He hums against your neck, making you shiver. “I love you, Acacius.”

He presses a soft kiss to your pulse, wishing tonight he could claim you as his wife, put his seed in you and watch you grow his child. He cannot. He will not make you his whore. "I love you." He whispers, breathing you in. "I will never be able to repay your selflessness. I would have never been able to watch you marry another."

You tilt your head and lean back against his broad chest. “It was difficult, but I am in your arms right now.” You point out, turning and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Now, I want you to make love to me. Show me how you feel.”

He leans in to nudge his nose against yours, his lips soon meeting yours as he walks you backwards to the bed. Lucilla lays in bed as she listens to your moan echoing down the passageway between the rooms and she wipes away the tear from her eye. She wants to be loved, to be protected, but she has married a man who wants another and she has to live with that. At least she will live.

**** 

Steam rises from the perfumed water as you sit and relax. Last night Marcus was vigorous and had pushed you beyond the normal bouts of sex. You ache deliciously and hum as you lean back and close your eyes. “More wine?” The question makes you open your eyes again, finding Lucilla standing on the edge of the baths, her dress out of place, but her hair is unadorned, like she had been coming to bathe herself. She nods to the cup on the ledge. “You seem to have drunk all yours.” She had been polite, kind even, but you have noticed that she seems sad and lonely. “Only if you pour yourself a cup and join me.” You offer, sitting up to make room for her in the deep water.

She smiles, appreciating you inviting her when you have been keeping to your room with Marcus every night for the past few months. She cannot lie. She has been lonely despite gaining a husband on paper. She reaches for the jug of wine, pouring you another cup and taking one for herself. She looks to her handmaid who comes forward to unclip her dress, helping it fall from her body so she can step into the bath.

Lucilla is gorgeous. You don’t look away, appreciating her form as she steps into the bath and groans at the heat. She is holding the cups and you reach out to steady her waist so she doesn’t slip as she joins you. “This is such a luxury.” You hum. “Normally I have to go to the public baths for conversation, but you and I can get better acquainted.”

Lucilla smiles, “I know. I am pleased that we can get to know each other more in private. I would like to know why my husband is so in love with you.” She offers you a wink, wanting you to know she’s being playful and not resentful. She hands you the cup and you take it while her handmaid leaves the baths to prepare the linens for Lucilla.

“We have been in love since he first became an officer.” You admit, smiling softly at the memory. “There was a feast and he found me in the courtyard because I was bored. I was reading instead of feasting.”

Lucilla chuckles, “you sound like me. I would sit in the gardens and read instead of attending the feasts my father held in honor of many people who have since died.” She sighs, her eyes full of memories and she takes a sip of wine. “I know you planned to marry Marcus. It was never my plan to take him from you but the emperors…they are wanting my blood.”

“I understand.” You bite your lip, watching as she looks down at her wine. “Are you disappointed he has not visited your bed? Even if you married him for safety?” You would understand if she was. Marcus is handsome, kind, loyal and has honor, rare traits in a Roman man these days.

“I’d be a fool to not see how handsome he is. He’s capable. He’s strong, and he’s loyal. I wouldn’t be a woman if I didn’t imagine him in my bed but he belongs to you in all ways but name. I am not the woman he desires and I would never demand it when I am taking away your Maritus for my own gain.” She confesses, glancing across the bath to avoid looking at you as she admits her deepest thoughts.

You hum, watching her for a moment and take a sip of your wine. “Have you ever had a woman as a lover?” You ask boldly, unsure because you have never seen her at an orgy or at the baths. Not that you attended many orgies.

She flusters, shaking her head, “no. Never. My brother - Commodus - he would’ve never allowed it. He was very…possessive over me.” She murmurs, knowing her brother would’ve killed anyone who touched her. “And Maximus was the love of my life. I wanted him to be my Maritus but we were not destined for each other.” She feels her chest tighten but there’s nothing else she can say.

“Amor, your maid told me you were-“ you twist your head to see Marcus stopped dead, slightly frozen as he stands completely nude. He had obviously sought to join you in the baths and is surprised by the presence of his uxor. You smile, glancing at Lucilla to find her staring at her wine intently and you bite your lip. “Amor, pour yourself a cup of wine and join us.” You beckon, sitting up so he can see your bare breasts. “We were just having the most interesting discussion.” You hum, smirking slightly.

Marcus isn't ashamed of his form but he does feel a little awkward standing naked before his uxor while his eyes take in the sight of your bare tits. He nods, reaching for a cup and filling it from the jug of wine. After taking a gulp, he steps into the water, noticing how Lucilla still doesn't look at him, and takes a seat next to you. He groans at the heat of the water on his constantly sore body.

You hum, reaching under the water to squeeze his thigh, signaling for him to listen before he reacts. “Your uxor and I were just getting better acquainted.” You inform Marcus. “Poor Lucilla, she has been twisting at the whims of the men in her life.” You shoot her a soft smile. “She hasn’t even had the pleasure of having a woman as a lover.” You take a sip of your wine and look at Marcus. “And now, we deny her the very man she is married to.”

Marcus frowns, looking over at Lucilla who averts her gaze from his chest. “She knows the arrangement. My body belongs to you, amor.” He says a little incredulously. “I know, Marcus, but Lucilla needs pleasure like everyone else. I wish to give it to her.” You explain and Marcus frowns, “do you want me to-?” He asks and you shake your head, “no. No. Not you. Me.” You declare and Lucilla’s head jerks up while Marcus’s eyes widen, “are you- are you certain?”

“I am.” You look over at Lucilla and lift a brow. “As long as your uxor doesn’t mind my touch.” You add softly, wanting her to have the power to reject your offer if she wishes. “Do you, Lucilla? Do you want to have me touch you, show you what it is like to have a woman between your thighs?”

Lucilla looks over at Marcus who stares back for a moment until he nods, giving her and you permission to do this if that is her wish. She bites her lip as her eyes flick back to you, “I want - yes. Show me.” She whispers, almost afraid to say the words out loud but she desperately wants it.

You smile, setting your cup down and leaning closer. Marcus shifts slowly, putting himself between the two of you so he can watch. “I have visited the baths many times while Marcus is away on campaign.” You explain, feeling his hand slide up your back and his large hand cup the back of your neck. Applying a little pressure to guide you forward. “He did not deny me pleasure and I know that wishes he had been able to watch.”

He has definitely imagined you while you're seeking pleasure in the baths, especially when he had his cock in his fist while he was away fighting. Lucilla licks her lips, gasping when Marcus's hand finds her neck, leaning her towards you, and his eyes darken as he watches the two women in his life come closer until their lips meet.

You reach out to hold onto Lucilla’s shoulder. “You really are beautiful.” You murmur, moving to start the kiss softly. Wanting her to relax against your lips and open up.

She inhales sharply, her stomach twisting with lust, and she surges forward to press her lips to yours. "You are both beautiful." Marcus murmurs, his cock twitching as he watches you react to her eager kiss. Your tongue playfully slides along her lower lip and she opens her mouth without hesitation.

Your cunt clenches in pleasure and your hand slides down from her shoulder to cup one breast. Enjoying the way she gasps at the feel of another’s touch, her nipple hardening against your palm while you kiss each other.

Marcus lowers his hands from the back of the women's necks to slide down, one hand on Lucilla's back, the other squeezing your ass as you lean forward. Her hands come up to grip your shoulders, enjoying your soft skin and moaning when you pinch her nipple.

You pull away from her kiss, smirking slightly as she chases your lips, but you turn your head and kiss along her jaw. “Watch your maritus.” You order her softly. “His eyes are dark, aren’t they?”

Lucilla nods as she looks at Marcus, his eyes hungry and eager. Something she only ever saw in Maximus's eyes. "My amor will take care of you. Let her show you how good she can be." He orders and Lucilla's eyes close when you kiss her neck, tilting her head to give you more access.

Your lips and teeth map her skin, loving how she gasps when you nip lightly. Moving down her chest until you are kissing the tip of her breast before pulling her nipple into your mouth while continuing to pinch the other one in your hand.

"Gods above." She moans, her hand caressing your cheek and Marcus smirks, sliding his hand up to cup your breast, pinching your nipple. You moan around her flesh and Marcus continues to harden at the beauty before him.

You know Marcus is enjoying watching. He has talked many times of visiting the baths with you, but it has never happened. Now you get to explore his uxor’s body and give her pleasure while he watches. You bite down gently and then pull sharply on it, making her whimper and her nails dig into your shoulders while you suckle.

She is lost in the touch since it's been so long since anyone touched her with this much care. You make her gasp and moan until her cunt is aching, needing more from you. Marcus caresses your back until he's cupping your neck to pull you back, still in charge. "She wants more, amor. Show her your mouth, show her how talented your tongue is." He orders, wanting to watch it.

Humming, you lick your lips in anticipation. “Sit on the edge of the bath.” You let go of her breast and guide her back to the edge. “Spread your legs wide and watch me.”

Marcus copies you, licking his lips as Lucilla nods, shifting out of the water to sit on the edge. Her cheeks flush as she spreads her thighs, exposing the thatch of curls between them while her heart thumps in anticipation.

“Very pretty.” You coo as you wade through the water to settle between her thighs. You urge her to slide to the edge and lean in to kiss her thigh.

Lucilla inhales sharply as you kiss her skin. She hasn't been touched like this in so long. Her chest heaves when you kiss higher and Marcus shifts closer, his hand caressing your back as he watches with rapture.

You hum, eyes flickering up to watch her face as you slowly lick into her folds. You have enjoyed the pleasures of other women, both giving and receiving in the baths and you want to share this with her. Marcus groans so loudly that it almost covers up Lucilla’s gasp of pleasure and you smirk slightly as you carve a path with your tongue through her sex.

Marcus watches in fascination, his dark eyes flicking between you and Lucilla as you sample her sex. His uxor tilts her head back, her eyes fluttering closed and he grunts, "keep your eyes on her. Watch her pleasure you."

His tone is commanding, Lucilla’s eyes popping open and she moans softly. You can tell she likes that Marcus had ordered her around and you know that you always enjoy it as well. Flicking your tongue over her clit makes her grab your shoulder and her hips rock forward, eager for more. You hum into her folds, obsessed with the taste of your lover’s wife.

Marcus groans, reaching down to squeeze his hard cock. You reach for his hand, dragging it away from his length and he grunts but you bring his hand to Lucilla's breast. He follows your silent order, squeezing her flesh and she moans, her back arching into his palm.

Your hands squeeze her hips, reaching back and holding her ass as you continue to devour her. Your own cunt aches with need but you ignore that. Wanting Lucilla to cry out and cum for you. Sucking her clit into your mouth, you watch your lover touch his wife for the first time.

Marcus is aching and he slides his free hand down your back, "let me fuck you, amor." He murmurs his request, needing you to experience pleasure too.

You pull away from Lucille’s clit, making her whine softly in protest. “Do you want to watch your maritus fuck me?” You ask her, not wanting her to be hurt if it is too much.

Lucilla nods, knowing she’s imagined how Marcus looks when he falls apart more times than she cares to admit. He is a handsome man and she has gotten lost in thoughts of him taking her as his wife physically. “Fuck her.” She orders Marcus who nods, groaning as he grips his cock and caresses your ass with his other hand. It doesn’t take long for him to notch himself at your entrance, pushing into you so you cry out into Lucilla’s cunt.

Marcus pushes deep inside you, throbbing already from how excited he is. He kisses along your shoulder as he grinds deep and you know he is watching you closely. “Gorgeous.” He groans, unable to believe that you are feasting on his uxor’s cunt while he fucks you. You groan in agreement, sliding your hand around to push two fingers deep into Lucilla’s cunt and are rewarded by her immediately clamping down on them.

Her cry echoes through the marbled walls, making Marcus twitch inside you. His hands reach around to squeeze your tits as you moan into Lucilla’s folds, working her through it with soft pumps of your digits. “Beautiful.” Marcus murmurs, “both of you. So fucking beautiful.”

She’s beautiful, head tilted back as she rides out her pleasure, she looks like a goddess. Lucilla has always been beautiful to you, but she’s breathtaking right now. You clench down around Marcus and make him hiss because of how tight you get. Slowly pulling away from her engorged folds and licking your lips when she gasps as the pleasure becomes too much.

Marcus watches Lucilla try to catch her breath and he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. “You have wrecked her, amor.” He smirks and starts to rock into you again. Lucilla watches as her legs dangle in the water.

“She is lovely to wreck.” You pant, twisting your head and looking back into your lover’s eyes. “Taste her from my lips.” You demand, reaching up to drag his mouth to yours for a passionate kiss.

Marcus groans, his tongue sliding against yours as he pauses his rocking into your cunt. You moan, cupping his cheek, and Lucilla watches in fascination. “Make her cum.” She orders Marcus with eyes wide.

You know Marcus has no issue following that particular order. His hands pull you back against his chest and he cups your tits, squeezing them as he starts to thrust into you with sharp snaps of his hips.

He grunts, jaw clenched in concentration as he rocks into you. He loves how you cry out, your cheek resting on Lucilla’s thigh and she strokes your cheek, “tell me how he feels.”

You moan softly, nuzzling into her touch. “His cock is thick. From the first time that he took my purity, he feels like he’s going to split me open.” You pant out breathlessly. “The ridges of his cock scrap my cunt perfectly, making it feel like the best and most maddening sensation in the world. It’s addictive.”

Lucilla moans, imagining how that feels. She knows she is unable to conceive a child for her Maritus. She has not bled in many years. “I want him to pleasure you. Make you feel as good as you made me feel.”

Marcus grunts. “I will.” He vows, pinching your nipples and tugging on them to make you whine his name. Lucilla strokes your cheek. “Cum for your lover.” She encourages softly.

You can’t deny her and Marcus groans your name when you clamp down on his cock. Your cry echoing like Lucilla’s in the marbled room and Marcus hisses at the way you grip his cock in your walls.

Pleasure floods your body, nearly blacking everything out but the way your cunt feels pulsing around his cock. Your fingers dig into Lucilla’s thighs and you moan. “Marcus, fuck her.” You beg softly. “Fill her up. You can’t - you can’t fill me up now but you can let her drip your seed.”

Marcus's eyes widen and he caresses your back, "are you sure?" He asks, knowing that he promised you his body would be yours. His heart is yours. You nod, "yes. Fuck her. She wants it. I want to see it." You plead and he pulls out of you, looking at Lucilla. "Are you certain, uxor?" He asks, reaching down to squeeze his cock.

She looks stunned as she bites her lip. “I- I would- I have imagined you in my bed but I do not wish to cause any more harm.” She confesses and you smile, reaching up to cup her cheek. “We will explore this new part of our lives together.” You promise before turning back to Marcus. “You know how I love you. It will not change that.”

Marcus nods, shuffling closer, and he wishes to please both you and Lucilla. He slides the head of his cock through her folds and she moans. It's been so long since a man touched her like this. He hisses as he starts to push into her, your hand caressing his back.

You watch, fascinated by the way Lucilla’s jaw drops and her head rolls back in complete bliss as Marcus fills her. Glancing down to watch his cock inch into her cunt, not feeling betrayed or jealous. You know that Marcus loves you, and it’s intoxicating to see him from this perspective. “How does he feel?” You caress her side as he bottoms out.

Lucilla's chest heaves until she lifts her head to look at you, "thick. He's stretching me out. It's been so long." She confesses and Marcus groans, reaching for you to drag your lips to his when he starts to rock into his uxor.

You groan against his lips, opening up for him to slide his tongue into your mouth. Participating in the act between husband and wife and you reach up to cup Lucilla’s breast again. You break away from Marcus’s mouth and turn to his uxor, wanting a kiss from her as well.

Lucilla presses her lips to yours, tongue sliding against yours as she moans, loving how Marcus stretches her out. “Amor.” Marcus groans, his hand sliding down to cup your cunt, his fingers finding your clit as he rocks into his uxor.

“Marcus.” You moan into Lucilla’s mouth. He can pleasure two women at the same time. You roll your hips down into his hand and cling to his uxor.

He wants to hear you moan too, his fingers working your clit like he knows how and Lucilla slides her hand to cup your breast, pinching your nipple while Marcus rubs your clit while rocking into Lucilla with precise thrusts.

“Perfect.” You gasp out, eyes slipping closed as you continue to kiss Marcus’s wife as he fucks her. “Touch her like you are touching me.” You order your lover, wanting her to cum on his cock so he can feel it.

Marcus groans, nodding as he rubs your clit while he pushes into Lucilla. He wants to see her cum. She’s sacrificed so much for the empire. She deserves some pleasure. “Fuck. I need you to cum for me.” He groans, his other hand finding her clit to rub with his thumb.

He’s talking to both of you. Marcus rocketing you both towards orgasm as he works you up on his fingers. You kiss Lucilla again, smirking against her lips. “Cum, lover.” You order softly. “Your maritus wishes to feel it.” Your stomach pulls tight and you gasp when he strokes your clit again. “Cum with me.”

Lucilla can't hold back and she cries into your mouth when she falls apart, clamping down around his cock and Marcus hisses, his fingers working your clit while his other hand keeps her shaking through her orgasm. "Cum for me, amor." He growls, needing to see you cum before he fills Lucilla up.

His gruff order is issued through clenched teeth, telling you that he is barely holding back. Both of them are so gorgeous and you cry out in pleasure as you come apart.

He watches you fall apart, leaning into Lucilla and he groans, pulling his hand away from you to grab Lucilla’s thigh, keeping her still as he pushes deep. It takes one thrust for him to fall apart, spilling inside his uxor for the first time and painting her walls with a deep groan.

You watch both of their eyes flutter shut, Lucille moaning as the heat of Marcus’s seed floods her womb. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” You hum, reaching out to caress them both as they come down from their pleasure.

Lucilla nods, feeling breathless as she watches Marcus as he pulls out of her to watch his cum drip from her cunt. He leans in to kiss you, “I love you.” He murmurs and leans in to kiss Lucilla. The two women in his life have just come together. Literally.

**** 

“Fuck, you look so pretty like this.” You hum around his cock, preening at his praises as he strokes your cheek. Lashes fluttering and you moan again when Lucilla commands your attention with the flick of her tongue against your clit. 

It’s been months since that day in the baths. The affection and physical attachment between the three of you growing beyond what you could ever imagine. Lucilla often joins you, the three of you sleeping together in the large bed that you had previously shared with Marcus.

Lucilla laps at you, her hands squeezing your hips, and you moan around Marcus's cock as he watches you with dark eyes. The pleasure has been more than any of you could imagine. Lucilla married Marcus for protection but she has gained more than security, she has gained lovers. "Gods, you are both so beautiful to watch." Marcus murmurs, twitching in your mouth.

Looking up at Marcus, you love the intense, lustful expression on his face as he watches the two of you. His love for you has not diminished, but his love for Lucilla has grown, as has your own. The couple have been to many events in Rome where comments have been made about their bond and you just smile and agree, the secret touches of affection between you and the other woman seen as just the relationship of companions. Your cheeks hollow and you pull back to roll your tongue over the sensitive head of his cock.

He groans, caressing your cheek again, and Lucilla feasts on you. The pleasure ping ponging from each participant as you devour and be devoured. Marcus watches in rapture, brow furrowed as his cock twitches in your mouth. “Amor. I- close.” He chokes, wanting to warn you and Lucilla pulls back from you to look up at Marcus. “Cum for her, Maritus. Cum for us.”

You pull him deeper into your mouth as he rocks his hips with a broken groan. His fingers hook around your chin and he looks down. His dark eyes flickering back and forth from your face and the sight of Lucilla settled between your thighs. “I love you both.” He grunts, right as he starts to spill down your throat.

Lucilla loves watching him fall apart and she wants to hear and feel you. Her tongue pushing into your cunt as her fingers dig into your ass, pushing it apart so she can get deeper while you swallow everything Marcus gives you.

Swallowing while you are moaning is hard but you manage. “Fuck.” Marcus pulls his softening cock out of your mouth and you moan Lucilla’s name, reaching down and tangling your fingers into her now messy hair.

Marcus shifts, coming to kneel next to where Lucilla is sliding her tongue and he slides his hand down her back to push two fingers into her dripping cunt while his other hand cups the breast until he pinches your nipple. “My beautiful girls.” He coos, loving how you moan Lucilla’s name.

“I’m so close.” You gasp out, close to shaking apart for them. “So good, you are so good, Lucilla!” You end her name with a squeal of pleasure as you start to cum.

Marcus watches you cum, his hand caressing your skin and he groans when Lucilla clenches around his fingers. “That’s it, uxor. Take your pleasure.” He orders when she pulls away from your cunt and moans his name.

You sit up, twisting your body so you can kiss Lucilla. Wanting to taste yourself from her lips and you flick your tongue against hers before moving down to wrap your lips around her nipple.

Lucilla feels surrounded by you and Marcus as you both touch her. Her capacity to experience pleasure has been brought to new heights since she started sharing your bed. “Gods.” She moans, rocking her hips back onto Marcus’s fingers.

You bite down gently on her nipple and then switch over to her other breast. Knowing how much she loves attention being paid to her breasts. “Cum for your maritus.” You order, winking at her before latching on again.

Lucilla moans, worked up from making you cum on her tongue and Marcus knows exactly how to curl his fingers to push her over the edge. It doesn’t take long when combined with your hot mouth on her nipple and she cries out. Her back arching as she clamps down on Marcus’s thick digits.

She’s gorgeous, you love seeing Lucilla cum. You love the blissed out look on her face. “Beautiful.” Marcus groans, leaning down and kissing her as she continues to shake on his fingers.

You kiss up her chest until you approach her mouth and Marcus turns his head to kiss you again, his heart pounding at how his life has changed since agreeing to marry Lucilla. He doesn’t realize how much until his servant informs him the next morning that he’s been summoned to the palace. “I must go, amor.” You cling to his tunic, “what do they have planned for you?” You whisper and Lucilla stands off to the side, her hands wrung together. “If I don’t go…well, there’s no choice.” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss your forehead as he gently pushes you away. He nods at Lucilla and follows the guards to the chariot to discover his latest fate.

Watching as Marcus is escorted away, you grip Lucilla’s hand tightly. “Why do they want him?” You ask, nervous. “They have decided to use him to expand their holdings.” She knows that the twin emperors will send Marcus away, using her to weld the might of his army for Rome.

**** 

“General, ah you are alive. We thought you had drowned in cunt juices.” Geta chuckles, “between your amor and your uxor, we are certain you’ve been a busy man.” Marcus clenches his jaw at their crassness but there’s nothing he can say so he chuckles and nods, bowing his head, “emperors.” He murmurs and the twins grin, clapping their hands. “We wish for you to take Numidia.” Caracalla declares and Marcus internally sighs, knowing that their quest will result in more Roman ruin and deaths. “Of course, Caesar.” He bows his head and Geta grins, “you will leave at once.” Marcus nods again, bowing before he leaves the hall, his jaw clenched in fury but he must fight for Rome. For Lucilla. For you.

You both wait uneasily for Marcus to come home. Sitting together and having some wine as you chat about milder topics. Trying to distract yourselves from the worry. “Did you ever wish to have more children?” You ask, curious about her wants as a mother.

Lucilla smiles softly, “when I was with Maximus…I wanted to marry him, have his children, and my father would’ve given us permission to marry but my brother…he was power hungry. He wanted to be emperor at any cost and he had killed my first husband…any dreams of children and a happy marriage died with him. I prayed for Lucius and I had to let him go to keep him alive. I pray to the gods that he is safe and happy. Do you wish to have children with Marcus?” She asks softly, squeezing your hand.

“I would love to have children with Marcus.” You admit softly. “But I do not think that will happen, if I am honest.” You squeeze her hand back. “Eventually my father will want me to marry another senator or someone he wants to influence using my cunt.”

Lucilla sighs, "I took the man you love from you. You have shown me pleasure like I've never known. I do not wish to keep you and Marcus hostage forever. As soon as Rome is free, so will he be. I will request a divorce. You will be able to marry and have children. I pray that time comes sooner rather than later."

Shaking your head, you smile at the woman. “Marcus has fallen in love with you.” You have never shied away from being honest. “As have I. The words we say in bed and now have meaning to us.” You bite your lip. “Should you divorce Marcus, so that I may marry him, I hope that you will still stay with us in our current situation.”

Lucilla feels her heart pound, her free hand coming up to cup your cheek, “I would be honored to remain in your household. I’d be honored to help you raise your children.” She smiles softly, “and I love you. Both of you.”

You’re relieved that she feels the same way, leaning in and pressing your lips to his. “Then when we can, we will help you restore Rome to the dream your father and your Maximus had.” Your promise. “Together.”

“Together.” She murmurs, caressing your cheek and soon you hear the servants announce that Marcus has returned. He strides through the halls until he finds you and Lucilla. “What happened?” The older woman asks and Marcus sighs, “they wish to send me to war once again.”

You bite your lip, standing and rushing over to him. “Where?” You demand. “Numidia.” You gasp, knowing that the free city will be difficult to battle. “You must not.” Marcus shakes his head. “I have to, to protect you and Lucilla.” He murmurs, caressing your cheek. “I will return to you both.”

Lucilla closes her eyes, knowing she must be strong for you as Marcus prepares to leave once more. Her hand finds your waist, “he will return to you. To us.” She promises and nods at Marcus.

“Take us,” you beg softly, reaching up and unclipping your dress. “One last time before you go.”

Marcus nods, grabbing your waist to pull you closer, his lips immediately finding yours as Lucilla reaches for his tunic, wanting to expose his body to her hungry eyes.

You don’t care that you are in the courtyard. Perhaps it is fitting since the last time he had taken you before he went to war he had taken you in the courtyard of your father’s villa. Your hands reach for Lucilla’s dress, wanting her to be just as naked as you are. This is for all of you.

Lucilla groans, caressing your side as her robes fall to the marbled floor. Marcus kisses her after pulling his face away from yours. “I’ll miss you both.” He murmurs, grabbing Lucilla so he’s holding you both.

“We will miss you.” You promise, kissing down the side of his neck and reaching down to wrap your hand around his cock to start pumping him.

Marcus groans at the feel of you gripping his cock and Lucilla leans in to kiss his jaw, her hand caressing his chest. Any of the servants could walk in and catch you but none of you care. You want to enjoy the General before he leaves to fight another useless war.

Lucilla kisses behind his ear and he turns towards her mouth and captures it in a passionate kiss, his free hand pulling her close to him as well. “My uxor.” He breathes quietly. “You will keep my other love safe, as well as yourself.” He orders quietly. “Do not risk yourself while I am gone.”

“I promise. We will be safe. I will not speak to Graccus until you return. We will put our plan into action then. Spread word to your men and we will make the emperors pay.” Lucilla murmurs and Marcus groans, his hands sliding up to squeeze a breast on each woman.

You hum, knowing that they have been plotting but they have not included you for now because of your father. Not sure how he would vote, you understand their reasoning. Now you squeeze his cock and smirk. “Fuck your uxor and then me.” You order. “It is safe and I want you to finish inside me again.”

“Bed. I want you both in the bed.” He grabs your hand from his cock and wraps his arm around Lucilla’s waist, dragging you both naked down the hall to the bedchamber you share. No servants cross your path but they will see the clothes left behind and hear your giggles. They are aware of the arrangement but they are all too well paid to discuss it. When you’re inside the room, Marcus lets go of the women, “on the bed. Both of you. I want to fuck both of you.”

Both you and Lucilla smirk, sitting down on the edge of the bed side by side and Marcus shakes his head. “Not like that.” He grunts, licking his lips. “I want you both closer so I can switch between your cunts.”

Lucilla frowns, “how do you want us?” She asks and you smirk, knowing what he wants. You’ve seen the drawings on the brothel walls. You shift to kneel, “get on top of me. I can take it.” You say and Lucilla bites her lip but nods, shifting to straddle you, her weight on top of yours and your legs spread to display your dripping cunt to Marcus.

Marcus groans. “Fuck, both of you are so pretty. Beautiful cunts that feel so good.” He wraps his hand around his cock. “If I had time, I would have each of you sit on my face while the other is on my cock.”

“When you return.” Lucilla promises breathlessly and leans down to kiss your neck. Marcus grips his hard cock, pumping himself as he shuffles closer until he’s pushing into Lucilla. He groans her name and slides his hand along your thigh, admiring how you are below her and your bodies almost become one.

You can feel his thrusts into Lucilla, The motion rocking you forward beneath him and your ass pushes up to press against her clit. “Grind down on me.” You order breathlessly, wanting to feel how wet she is.

Lucilla moans, grinding down onto you, and Marcus slides his hand higher until he’s pushing two thick digits into you while he fucks Lucilla. She moans and he grunts, watching both women below him until he pulls out of Lucilla and withdraws his fingers so he can push into you.

“Marcus.” You gasp out his name and squirm under Lucilla. “Too bad you do not have two cock to fuck us both at the same time.” You have seen women take more than one cock at a time so it is unfair that men cannot pleasure multiple women with a cock at the same time.

Marcus groans, wishing he could fuck both of you at the same time. He hisses when you squeeze his cock inside you and he caresses Lucilla's ass. He squeezes her flesh and she leans down to kiss your shoulder.

“He is still so thick inside me.” You pant. “No matter how many times he fucks me. Is it the same for you, Luc?” You hear your lover giggle. “It is.” She praises, looking back at Marcus over her shoulder. “It is good our General has a hearty appetite to satisfy us both.”

Marcus chuckles, "it is because I am granted the gift of two incredible cunts to fuck." He slaps Lucilla's ass and she giggles, grinding her clit onto your ass and Marcus thrusts a little harder into you until he pulls out and pushes back into Lucilla.

You miss the feeling of him inside you, but Lucilla’s moan makes up for it. You groan softly, your cunt clenching around nothing as he rocks into her above you.

Marcus groans, watching Lucilla's hole flutter and he pulls out of you, pushing into her for a moment before he pushes back into you. He continues that, thrusting into each woman one thrust then switching.

You whimper, loving how he is just spearing into both of you over and over again. “You will miss this.” You tell him breathlessly. “Cunts to fuck whenever you want.” You know Marcus will not fuck one of the whores while he is gone. He did not before his marriage to Lucilla and he would not now.

He groans, “my hand will have to suffice during my absence but I want you both to enjoy yourselves.” He demands, thrusting hard into Lucilla who cries out until he repeats the motion as he pushes into you. “Will miss you both so fucking much.”

“Love you.” You gasp and Lucilla moans in agreement. “I love you Acacius.” She hums and kisses your shoulder. “And I love you. I have been blessed by the gods with both of you.”

Marcus wants to hear both women cum. He wants to feel it before he's sent away for gods know how long. He pushes into Lucilla, making her cry out in bliss and Marcus pants, sweat beading on his brow.

“Cum for Marcus.” You beg Lucilla. “You know you want to remind him of what he fights for. He will fight to come home to your cunt. To your lips, your heart.”

Marcus pushes into his uxor, wanting to hear and feel her cum around him. Wanting to carry that memory with him into battle. His cock twitches as her walls start to flutter and his jaw is clenched as he fucks her harder, her body bouncing above yours.

You wish you were on your back, embracing Lucilla. Kissing and coaxing her to cum because you know she is on the cusp. You grind your ass up, feeling her clit rub against your skin. “Cum for your maritus.”

Lucilla takes orders well and she falls apart, her jaw dropping as she cums, shaking above you and Marcus groans at the way she clamps down on his cock. He hisses and pushes deep, his cock twitching as he fills her up with his hot seed.

You hear the groan Marcus gives and you know that he’s cum, a little disappointed that he had fallen apart so quickly but you can’t deny him his pleasure. You turn your head and watch both of them. “Beautiful.” You coo.

Marcus works Lucilla through it, his cum pushed out and a little drops onto your ass but he’s still hard. His eyebrows raise and he chuckles, “don’t worry, amor. You’ll cum on my cock too.” He promises as he pulls out of Lucilla to push his still throbbing length into your cunt.

“Oh gods.” Your head drops down between your shoulders. It’s not often that Marcus stays hard after cumming, but right now it’s perfect. A last time for each of you before he leaves to fight another war. “You want to fill up your wife and your lover, don’t you? Have us drip your cum when we go to lick each other’s cunts?”

“Fuck.” Marcus hisses, his chest heaving as he imagines you and Lucilla lapping his seed from your cunts. “Yes. Yes. Fuck. That sounds like a gorgeous sight. Something the gods would be envious of.” He confesses and twitches inside you.

You shiver. “Then you must come home so we can do this again and again.” You hum. “Perhaps when Lucilla rules, she can make us all married to each other.” You pose breathlessly.

Marcus nods, “my uxors.” He murmurs in awe at the very thought of getting to keep both of you. To belong to both of you. “Yes. Yes. I would.” Lucilla promises and caresses your cheek as she hovers above you. Marcus pushes into you, needing you to cum and you gasp when Lucilla shifts her weight onto one hand so she can slide her hand down your stomach until she’s rubbing your clit.

“Gods.” You whimper, closing your eyes and praying that Marcus is returned to you safely. You know that Lucilla will keep you company and you know that you have come to love her, but your heart will not be complete without him beside you. “Marcus, Lucilla!” You choke out a cry as your cunt clamps down around his throbbing cock.

Marcus loves how you clamp down on his cock. The woman he’s loved for so many years is below the woman he’s come to love recently. It’s more than he can handle and it only takes a few thrusts for him to cum again, pushing deep with your permission to start to paint your walls with his hot seed.

You whine in pleasure, loving how he fills you. Knowing that your cunt will be creamy with his seed and you will drip him for hours. “I love you.” You promise. “Until the gods take me.”

“I love you. Both of you.” Marcus vows, leaning down to kiss Lucilla’s shoulder. “I’ll fight to come home to you. That’s my quest. Not to get some fucking land for them. But to come home to my girls.” He smiles and grunts as he starts to soften inside you. “I need to prepare for my departure.” He sighs as he pulls out of you and shifts to lay down on the bed beside Lucilla.

Lucilla rolls off of you and over Marcus to snuggle into his side and you turn to press against him. “In a moment.” You lean in and kiss him softly. “The army will wait for their general.”

Marcus wraps his arms around you both, breathing you in, and he knows it will be painful to leave you both here with the emperors at large but there’s nothing he can do. He must fight. **** 

“We will pray for you every day.” Lucilla vows and Marcus nods, cupping her cheek while he has his arm around your waist. “Come home to us, Maritus.” You plead and he leans in to softly kiss Lucilla before he turns to kiss you. “I’ll come home to you.” He promises even though his fate is up to the gods. You and Lucilla have tears in your eyes as you hold each other close while watching Marcus prepare his horse for his departure. When he swings his leg over, he settles in and blows a kiss to you both. You watch as he rides off down the cobbled street to the gates, leaving once again for a useless war.

Marcus is gone for two months. You feel an unease like you never have before, worry manifesting in a souring of your stomach. Even Lucilla tries to keep herself busy but is often sitting in the courtyard where the three of you spent so much time.

Marcus is exhausted when he returns from war. He wants to return to the villa and collapse in bed with you and Lucilla. Yet he can’t. He must clean up and meet with the emperors. Have a feast and celebrate his victory. The word sits heavy on his tongue knowing how many were killed because of his orders. He waves to the crowd, dressing in his finery to meet the emperors and accept their false praises. He looks at the adoring crowd, hating the cheers as he makes his way up the steps to meet with Geta and Caracalla.

You stand in the crowd, wanting to see Marcus. To put eyes on him. The messenger he had sent to let you know of his return had eased your worry, but still you needed to see for yourself. Lucilla had stayed home, so you had traveled to the city to see him alone, although you could not welcome him as your husband.

Marcus bows his head as the golden laurel is placed on his head. He thanks the emperors who grin and wave at the crowds. "Now, we feast!" Caracalla cheers, stroking the monkey sitting on his shoulder and Marcus nods, "of course, Caesar." He follows them from the steps of their palace but he is eager to return home.

When Marcus disappears into the palace, you depart for home. Unable to travel fast right now due to your nerves and how racing on the back of your horse makes you feel. Taking an hour to reach the villa that you have come to think of as home instead of your father’s estate in the city.

Marcus eats and drinks a little to keep up appearances and when the orgy is getting started, he bows to the emperors and takes his leave. “Enjoy fucking your uxor and lover, General. I’m sure they have missed having a cock instead of each other’s tongues.” Geta chuckles and Marcus rocks his jaw but nods, bowing once again as he leaves the palace. His cloak flares behind him as he makes his way through the streets to ride to the villa he has come to call home. The guards let him in and he’s swinging his leg over the stallion, handing the reins to his hand and he strides into the villa. He walks through the halls until he finds Lucilla and you sitting in candlelight. “My ladies.” He greets you with a cheeky smile after he lowers the hood of his cloak.

“Acacius.” Lucilla smiles, a soft, dreamy smile as she looks towards her husband. You hum as you stand and both of you walk towards him. You recognize the look in his eye, so does Lucilla. She takes his hand. “Come.” She urges. “Let me feed you.”

Marcus sighs as he takes her hand, followed by as you make your way to the room you share with his uxor. You all enter the room and you reach up to unclip his cloak, the heavy fabric falling to the floor and Marcus sighs in relief as the weight of the war is lifted off his shoulders. He reaches for you and Lucilla, pulling you both close to breathe you in.

He has new scars. You caress his cheek gently and lean in to kiss them. Wanting him to know that it’s alright. He’s home with the two of you. Home where he belongs. “Let us take care of you.” You coo. “Be a respite from war.”

Marcus nods, unable to physically do much when he’s been so tense, using every ounce of determination and strength to ensure his return home to you both. It doesn’t take long for you to strip him down and he is already hard. It’s been too long with his own touch to satisfy when the nights became lonely. He sighs and lays down on the bed, watching as Lucilla unpins her robes.

“Your uxor has missed you.” You hum, watching his eyes light up when her tits are revealed. “Just as much as I have. And I have missed you every moment of every day.” You kneel down to help her with her sandals so she is completely nude.

Marcus watches in rapture, fascinated still by the way you have fully accepted and fallen in love with Lucilla. He smiles as his uxor comes to kneel on the bed beside him while you work on removing your clothes. He is hard and he beckons her forward, reaching up to squeeze her breast. "I want you to sit on my face or my cock, uxor. You choose between you."

“Let your lover have your cock.” She leans down and smirks as she kisses his lips. “I have missed the talent of your tongue and your nose pressed against my clit.” She hums. “The rasp of your beard on the inside of my thighs.”

He groans, watching as she kneels, straddling his chest, and his hands find her hips, dragging her closer so she is hovering over his mouth. He groans at the heady scent of her arousal, somehow already wet for him, and he slides his tongue through her folds, groaning and his fingers gripping her flesh

You have to just watch for a moment, his cock is hard against his stomach and it twitches at the first lick. His groan is muffled by her folds, but her sounds are loud enough for both of them. “So beautiful.” You praise. “I have missed this sight.” You finish peeling off your clothes and kneel on the bed, wrapping your hand around his cock and lowering your head to take him into your mouth.

Marcus groans into Lucilla’s flesh, his fingers dig into her hips and he hisses when you take him deeper into your mouth. He loves it. How you eagerly take him and he sucks on Lucilla’s clit as her hands cover his.

He has obviously visited the baths before riding into Rome in victory. The musky, earthy taste of him is clean and addictive, making you hollow your cheeks as you suck his cock. “Your mouth is amazing, but I am sure he would prefer your cunt.” Lucilla moans.

Marcus grunts into her flesh in agreement and you giggle, shifting to straddle him. You grip his cock and it’s mere seconds until you are sinking down onto his cock with a loud moan of his name. He twitches inside you, his groan smothered by Lucilla’s cunt and she moans at the vibrations.

You brace your hands on his chest. Taking a moment to grind down on him and adjust to having that thick cock inside you again. Lucilla’s fingers aren’t nearly as thick and they don’t reach where his cock manages to touch. He feels like he’s in your womb.

Marcus groans when you start to move on top of him. It’s intoxicating and Lucilla loves seeing the pleasure on your face. She leans forward to press her lips to yours, her hands squeezing your tits as she grinds down onto Marcus’s tongue.

This room has seen so much pleasure. The walls absorb it along with your latest moan into her mouth. You bounce on Marcus’s cock, determined to cum all over it as you ride.

Marcus loves how you and Lucilla shamelessly use his body for your pleasure, rocking back and forth on his tongue and his cock. He twitches inside you as he pushes his tongue deep into Lucilla, desperate to get as much of you both as possible.

You moan as you bounce on his cock, rolling your hips and leaning into the kiss. Absorbing her sounds as she rocks her hips over his tongue.

Marcus can do nothing but lay beneath you. His lover and his uxor. His hands caressing Lucilla as he tongue fucks her and she slides her tongue against yours.

You love this. You love how the three of you have come together. The thought of giving either one of them up tears you to pieces and you know that you will fight to keep them. You break away from Lucilla’s kiss on a moan. “Gonna cum.” You pant out, rocking furiously on his cock as you gallop towards pleasure.

He feels your walls flutter around his cock and Lucilla cries out when he slides his tongue up and sucks her clit between his lips. “Fuck!” She curses, her forehead pressing against your sternum as you grind down and clamp down on Marcus’s cock. “Shit, amor.” You moan, soaking his cock at the same time Lucilla falls apart, soaking his face.

He groans beneath you. His cock pulsing and he’s been so long without the feel of your cunt around his cock that he cannot hold back. Thrusting up, he prays to the gods that your fertile time is not now as he paints your womb with his seed.

Your lover pants against Lucilla’s flesh and his uxor kisses up your chest until her lips press against yours. Her tongue slides into your mouth as you both ride your orgasms and Marcus enjoys the weight of you both as he softens inside you.

Eventually, Lucilla swings her leg over Marcus’s body and you lean forward to taste her from his lips. “I love you.” You coo softly, Moving to the side so that his uxor could kiss him as well.

Marcus sighs as he relaxes into the sheets, enjoying the relaxation and the lack of awareness. When he’s away, he’s constantly on guard, even with his own men, in case they have been influenced by the emperors.

“I’ll get some wine.” You want to give Marcus and Lucilla a moment, you know they have things to discuss, so you pull off your lover’s cock and reach for a wrapper to go get some wine and snacks.

Marcus sits up, uncaring of his nudity and Lucilla settles beside him, curling into his side. “I have spoken to several senators in private. They agree with us that the emperors are ruining Rome.” She reveals and Marcus nods, caressing her side, “I have an army loyal to me. They are sailing for Rome. They will be here in ten days. We have ten days to put this plan into action.” Marcus declares and Lucilla nods, “the games begin tomorrow. We will attend and plan in the shadows.”

Bringing back a jug of wine, you are followed by a servant bringing a tray of food. “We return.” You call out loudly so they can pause any sensitive conversations so the servants do not hear. “I bring wine and sustenance for the general and his lady.” Everyone in the house knows of your dealings, but you always defer to them around the help.

Marcus shifts to sit up, a robe draped over him as Lucilla wraps her own around her waist. They both watch you enter the room with the servant trailing behind you and Marcus watches you with dark eyes. He has to save Rome. For you and for everyone in it.

After depositing the tray on the table, you dismiss the woman with a smile and nod before you pour up the cups of wine yourself. “Did you have a good chat?” You ask as you bring the wine over to your lovers. Looking over your shoulder, you make sure that there are no servants lurking. “My father will not commit until the odds are in your favor.” You admit quietly, having felt the Senator out cautiously. “But he will commit.” You hate that he plays sides, but it’s how most of the senate keeps what little power they have against the emperors.

Marcus nods in understanding, “my army rides for Rome. Men loyal to me. They will fight in my name against the emperors. They arrive in ten days.” Marcus assures you and Lucilla who takes the cup of wine, taking a nervous sip. 

**** 

“Marcus.” Lucilla gasps, reaching for his hand, “it’s Lucius. He’s - he’s fighting in the games.” Lucilla chokes after you have returned to the villa after watching the opening games.

“Your son?” Dread curdles in your stomach. You know how much Lucilla has missed Lucius, how she yearns to have him back. “Are you sure?” Marcus asks in astonishment. The man she is talking about is a slave that he had brought back from his conquest, a man who had stared at him in defiance. He hadn’t recognized the boy from so many years ago.

She nods, “I know my son.” She reaches for Marcus’s hand. “He’s in the games. I need to protect him. Acacius. Help him.” She pleads, her hands trembling and you rub her back in comfort. He brings up the fact that the army is on their way, but she is afraid he will not survive until then. Marcus swallows, knowing what he must do. He nods, bringing her hand to his to kiss the back of it.

Your heart aches because you know the danger that he will face. “I will get him out of the city.” He promises her softly, turning and pulling you into his arms. “I have to, amor.” He murmurs, wanting you to understand. “You must be careful, Acacius.” you murmur softly, knowing it will be dangerous. 

Marcus kisses your forehead, “I’ll be safe. I will make sure he lives and we will all be free.” He vows, knowing that his life is in danger now. Both because of Lucius and the emperors. Lucilla feels beside herself, knowing her son lives and he can be emperor. Fulfil the role he was destined for. Marcus and Lucilla get to work the next day, meeting with senators to prepare for the coup under the nose of the emperors

Spending the night alone for the first time in forever, you worry about your lover and his uxor, not sleeping a wink. Exhausted, you rise from the lonely bed when the sun rises and once again pray to the gods. There has been no word, but you know that can be a good thing. You try to keep up appearances, but you are nervous. You will attend the games as normal. Dressing carefully for the games and making your presence known. Wanting to assist however you can.

Lucilla looks up as you walk onto the balcony, Marcus not beside her. Her hands chained to the chair she’s sitting in. Her expression, her eyes are devastated and you inhale sharply, knowing this meant the coup failed. They were discovered. The emperors beckon you to sit next to Lucilla, and the guards come forward. Your eyes widen as they grab your wrists, chains clanking around them despite your initial struggle and tears start to sting in your eyes knowing your fate has been sealed. The announcer introduces the gladiators and then your breath leaves your body when they say his name. “General Marcus Acacius!” The crowd cheers and you whisper “no” as Marcus swings his sword, entering the arena.

“My my, your lovers have really disappointed us.” Geta tuts as he smirks at you. “How they have betrayed Rome, and more importantly - us.” You shake your head. “He wouldn’t. They wouldn’t.” You protest. “They love Rome more than anything.”

“They love Rome more than they love us and we can’t have that.” Caracalla answers with a smirk, “and we can’t have traitors in our midst.” Marcus bows his head after placing his sword on his chest, signaling his felty to Rome and he nods to the men fighting him, knowing he will have to kill them. It doesn’t take long for him to cut them down in brutal battle, blood soaking the sand as his chest heaves, knowing he won’t survive this fight but he sent word to his men, praying they arrive and fulfil his order to retake Rome from the emperors and their army.

You have watched in horror, fingers curled around the arm rest of the chair and you are near tears. Another name is announced and Lucilla gasps, making your heart sink. Lucius comes through the gates at the end of the arena, his face hard and determined. “Please don’t.” You beg the emperors. “The general is no use to you dead.”

“We can promote a general. We cannot promote a coup.” Geta replies, cup of wine in hand as Caracalla gleefully claps, watching Lucius be feral and vicious as he battles with a reluctant Marcus.

“Marcus.” You whimper, clenching your fists together and praying to the gods that some miracle prevents one of them from killing the other. “Please, do not do this.” You beg. “That is- you do not know who that is.”

Geta scoffs and ignores you as the crowd begins to cheer when Lucius steps closer to Marcus. The General reluctantly swings his sword to block the blows, trying to talk sense into his uxor’s son, but he has a fury in his eyes like he’s never seen. He wants blood. You can see Marcus talking to him but you can’t hear what’s being said over the roar of the crowd and your own pounding heart. Marcus grunts as he shoves Lucius back, continuing to talk to him, and finally, it appears his message gets through when Marcus is kneeling on the ground, his hand up and sword laying in the sand. Lucius stares at the older man, realizing who the enemy is, and he doesn’t raise his sword to kill the man who took his love, his wife. He swallows harshly and watches while the emperors scream to kill the General.

“No!” Your scream cracks your voice as you shout out, unable to stop the multiple arrows piercing Marcus’s body and you hear a howling sound as you watch his body fall to the ground, his eyes open. The sound is coming from you. Pain and anguish ripping through your body like you’ve never experienced before.

Lucilla has tears running down her cheeks as she stares at Marcus laying on the ground. Your screams echoing around the colosseum and the guards grab you, dragging you chained from the balcony but the citizens of Rome hear your anguish cries echoing through the stands.

“Murders! You murdered him! You murdered him!” You are screaming as you are being dragged out of sight, fighting to stay, needing to stay to see Marcus’s body. No one in the stands cheers the death of the general.

**** 

Lucilla kneels beside Marcus, his body laid out for his funeral, and she cries silently as she says her goodbyes to the man she’s come to love deeply. When you enter the room, she looks up and beckons you over. You’ve been inconsolable. Barely able to make it out of bed and she understands but she has to continue fighting for Lucius. She shifts as you kneel next to Marcus, tears already gathering in your eyes, “he loved you with every bone in his body.” She says softly, reaching for your hand to bring in on top of Marcus’s, sandwiching your hands together with hers.

“He loved you as well.” Your voice is hoarse, barely a whisper and your eyes feel heavy and gritty from your grief. “Lucilla-“ you choke up, hating how cold your lover feels. His life is gone, his warmth bled dry by the emperors. “They must die.” You hiss.

Lucilla nods, letting go of your hand and she looks down at the ring on Marcus’s hand. “Take it. It’s yours.” She says. You shake your head, “no it’s not. Take it and give it to Lucius. He is the only one that can save us now. Go to him.” Lucilla nods, sliding the ring onto her ring and she kisses Marcus’s hand once more, “we will avenge you.” She vows to him and looks at you, “we will have the Rome he wanted.”

You nod, unsure of what to tell her right now, but you know you need that future for Rome, for yourself. Lucilla rushes away and you are left with the body of your lover. “I have news.” You whisper softly, leaning down and caressing his cheeks. His eyes are now closed and he looks peaceful, although you know he is not merely sleeping. “I will tell you when everything is settled.” Leaning in, you give Marcus one last kiss. “Forever my love, that is how long I will love you.”

Lucilla watches her son as he looks down at the ring on his finger. His father’s ring. She nods and offers him a soft smile as he looks at her with determination. He will ensure that Marcus and Maximus did not die in vain. He will avenge them and secure Rome once again for everyone. For all. Forever.

You don’t know how long you sit with Marcus’s body. You lose track of time until the door opens. “Leave me.” You order without even looking to see who it is. Hands grab your arms and you cry out as you are one again dragged away from your lover. “What is the meaning of this?” You demand as the praetorian guards cart you off.

Lucilla is silently praying to the gods as she is tied to the platform, the senators surrounding her. Your father is not among them. She’s grateful you aren’t here but she hears your cry as you’re dragged into the emperor’s balcony. Caracalla giggling with his monkey on his shoulder as he watches Lucius enter the colosseum with his jaw clenched in determination.

“Lucilla!” You shout out her name as the crowd goes to thundering from the stands, but you know she hears you. “I love you!”

Lucilla has tears on her cheeks but she refuses to show she’s scared. She is tied to the platform and the senators cry and scream but she hears you. She looks up at you and mouths ‘I love you’ just as Lucius enters the arena to see his mother tied up. He fights to get to her but it’s too late and Macrinus grabs the bow, firing the arrow that pierces her heart. You sob, knowing you’ve lost the ones to love to his brutality and thirst for power. You sob and he kills Caracalla without a moment's thought while Lucius fights.

You shiver, knowing that you are next in this brutal conquest of Rome. This has been a coup that the emperors could never have imagined and you scream as Lucius seems to falter.

Macrinus turns towards you, his eyes narrowed and you tug on the chains that keep you bound but the man has bigger issues when Lucius turns his gaze on the balcony and rushes towards you and Macrinus. “Fuck.” The man curses and looks at the guard, “do not let her go.” He orders before he runs off the balcony just as Lucius climbs up. He growls at the guard who holds the key for you and he pulls the knife out to rush the guard. The man is no match and Lucius puts his blade into his chest, grabbing the key to free you. His hands are steady as he unlocks you from the shackles, “go. Go save Rome.” You order and he nods, running off to follow Macrinus.

You make your way to the sands, needing to touch Lucilla again. Sobbing as you make your way through the crowds to the display she had been tied to. You work the ropes to lay her body down and you caress her cheek. “I am so sorry, amor.”

****

Lucius pants as he defeats Macrinus, the army ready to fight alongside him to destroy those who dare to take Rome for their own. It's days later that Lucius is named Emperor. His rightful place but he places power back in the hands of the senate. "You must take a wife, Caesar. You must continue your line." Your father says to the young man, "my daughter can be your wife. She has lost so much, as have you. She will understand your pain and she will not ask for more than you are willing to give."

Lucius frowns slightly, but he doesn’t say no. “Have your daughter brought to me to talk.” He decides, unsure of who this daughter is, but the Senator in question is a powerful man.

Lucius looks up when you are brought into his chambers, your hands wringing together, and he frowns, “your father sent you. Tell me why.” He orders, twisting the ring his mother gave him as he stands.

You snort, your eyes falling to the ring that you had given Marcus. Now on this emperor’s hand. “Because my father wishes to have me married off before it is discovered that I am carrying Marcus Acacius’s child.” You admit honestly, reaching down and holding your stomach protectively.

Lucius nods in understanding, having heard you were Acacius’s lover. And his mother’s. “Then we will marry.” He declares, “I do not wish to find an uxor who simpers and wants a love story. I need a practical woman who wants protection and companionship. I need an advisor, a confidant. Can you be that for me? Your child will be protected.” He vows, “they will be our child.”

You frown slightly, surprised that he would want that kind of life. It’s a good deal for you and you’d be a fool not to take it. “I could.” You agree after a moment. “If that is what you want. I loved your mother and her maritus.” You admit that freely. “I would never be disloyal to her son, in any way.”

Lucius is aware of the relationship you shared with his mother and her Maritus. He had discovered how Marcus has protected his mother from a few senators he trusted and he wants to honor the man who kept his mother safe until his last breath. If he can do that by protecting his child, he will do so. “That’s what I want. I want to honor my mother and Acacius. I can do that by honoring you and the child in your belly.” Lucius declares and you nod, “I accept. If you wish to take me as your uxor.” Lucius slides the ring from his pinky, walking towards you to slide the ring onto your finger. “This is yours now. My empress.” Lucius offers you a sad smile that you return, nodding in understanding. 

**** 

“Marcus! Slow down!” You call out to your son. He’s seven and the image of his father but no one in Rome says a word about the truth that the emperor is not his father. Lucius has declared the boy as his heir and you are the empress. You glance down at the ring on your hand before looking towards the sky and you think of Marcus and Lucilla. You pray they are in the Elysian Fields together. “He is so much like you.” You whisper, closing your eyes as the breeze curls around you and you feel Marcus is with you. You swear you hear him say your name but the wind carries it away. “Mama!” Your son calls and you smile, walking towards him and Lucius who is holding his hand out for you. You never got your happy ending with Marcus but this will do until you see him again.

[mono-dot-jpeg]

stupid e-couple - s. nagi

summary; convincing nagi to be your e-boy is surprisingly hard. how does one be so stubborn and so lazy at the same time?

genre/extra tags; one shot, based off of my other fic with kenma about league, fluff, comedy, nagi being nagi, league player ew (/j), i can say that bc im a league player, league terms and champ names are being thrown and no i will not elaborate on any of them, one (1) sexual joke literally at the start

word count; 567

[gender neutral reader]

"sei, you're a shit boyfriend."

"what about last night?"

you send him a withering glare. "seriously?" he looks at you with those stupid beady eyes that he always has. that slightly feigned innocence, he knows what's he's doing. he's a grown ass teenager. a stubborn one. but you were stubborn, too. "how are you so damn stubborn?!" you whip a pillow at his face, to which he doesn't even bother dodging. like the good boyfriend he was, he takes the pillow to the face and flops over on the bed pathetically.

"is this really that serious?"

"is it really that serious?" you mock him sarcastically. "god forbid i try to be cute with you."

"but you're so bad at xayah... why can't you just play support instead? you're so much better." he grumbled.

"but they're like the duo to play in the bot lane. plus, they're hot, just like us."

"but you're still bad at xayah."

"not the point, nagi!"

"why don't we just play like.. what we're good at?" he asked the obvious question that you were expecting. "like, you're good at lux.."

"what about playing lux ezreal?"

"i hate ezreal."

"but you're so good at him." you started filing through the mental list in your mind of bot support lane duos that couples would play to be insufferable fucks to their team.

"why do you want to do this anyways? we just match skins anyways.." he muttered tiredly as he flipped around on the bed, stomach down. his face buried into the pillows, listening to your antics. "are matching skins not enough for you?" he turned his head to rest his cheek on the pillow as he gives you that annoyingly endearing pout you've come to know and love.

"it is but, what if i just want to be cute with my boyfriend?"

he looks at your own pout on your lips. he has half a mind to kiss you so hard that you just ignore this issue until next time, but he's far too lazy right now.

"what about jinx ekko?" he asked.

"ekko is a jungler, baby."

"okay.. and? anyone can be a support if you try hard enough."

"people are going to report you."

he shrugged, "not the first time that's happened." it was clear that you both were at a standstill. neither of you were budging. but it's not like nagi wasn't denying your idea. he was simply telling you a possible solution and the issues with your idea. god, you hate when he's actually sensible.

"let's just go and check what matching skins we can get."

"yay.." he said dryly, shifting on the bed to let you lay next to him. the moment you take your spot, his arms snake around your waist, and his stark white hair invades your vision and lips.

"sei! your hair!" you spit out the tufts that get into your mouth. "move your big head." you tell him.

he grumbles but complies and moves to bury his head into your chest. your arms wrap around him as you hold your phone. he cuddles you with a gentle sigh on contentment. a comforting silence blankets you both, the sounds of soft breathing and tapping fingers can only be heard.

"you know it shouldn't matter if we're matching skins or champions, i think we're still cute." he mutters before you can hear him start to doze off.

[dulcescorderitas]

𝓫𝓮𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓼𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓿𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓮

warnings: none other than cussing.

time: March 2005

The hum of the camcorder buzzed faintly in the background, capturing the chaotic, candid moments of the set. Tom Welling slouched in the director’s chair, his boyish grin flashing as he looked straight into the lens. His dark t-shirt stretched over his broad shoulders, sleeves snug around his biceps. The director called for a break, and the atmosphere shifted—lights dimmed, laughter filled the air.

“Alright, people!” Kristin Kreuk yelled, brushing a strand of her hair out of her face. “Five-minute break, but don’t go far. I need my Lana Lang aura charged or something.”

You leaned into the frame, your arm casually draping across Tom’s shoulder, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. He tilted his head toward you, his expression lazy and full of mischief. "Look who's stealing my spotlight," he teased, his voice low enough to make the hairs on your arms rise.

“Stealing?” you scoffed, your lips curling into a smirk. “I’m the reason anyone's watching this video.”

Tom’s laughter rumbled deep in his chest, and he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into his lap without hesitation. His large hands gripped the curve of your hips, his thumbs rubbing absent circles into your skin through your jeans. “Careful, babe,” he whispered just loud enough for the mic to pick up. “You’re gonna start rumors.”

“They’re not rumors if they’re true,” Kristin chimed in, walking by with a water bottle, rolling her eyes but grinning.

---

The camcorder caught every stolen moment: Tom’s fingers brushing hair out of your face, the way you leaned into him when you thought no one was watching, his palm sliding lower than appropriate during a staged kiss, his lips grazing yours when the director yelled cut. But this wasn’t for the network or the fans; this was raw and unfiltered—your own little slice of chaos.

“Clark wouldn’t grab her ass like that,” Michael Rosenbaum, bald and smirking, broke in as he leaned against the prop barn door. “But Tom sure as fuck would.”

You flipped him off without looking, feeling Tom’s body shake beneath you as he laughed. "Jealous?" Tom shot back.

“Hardly,” Michael quipped, “but if you’re filming this for posterity, I’d at least appreciate an angle where her face isn’t buried in your neck like a goddamn Hallmark card.”

"Noted," you deadpanned, leaning back just far enough for Tom’s lips to find yours. This time, it wasn’t a quick peck. It was lingering, full of slow, deliberate pressure. The kind of kiss that left your knees weak even while you were sitting.

“Okay, Jesus Christ.” Michael shielded his eyes dramatically. “I’m out. I’ll be in my trailer rethinking every life choice that brought me here.”

---

Later, when the camera was left on a coffee table unattended, you and Tom sprawled out on the couch in the greenroom. He held you tight, his hands dipping under your shirt just enough to stroke your bare skin, his lips finding your neck. You giggled, the sound muffled as he nipped at your earlobe.

“This isn’t gonna make it into the gag reel,” you whispered, biting your lip as he pressed kisses along your collarbone.

“Not unless you want it to,” Tom murmured, his voice warm and teasing, but his hands gripped your ass firmly, pulling you closer until you were straddling him fully.

From somewhere in the background, Erica Durance’s voice echoed down the hallway. “You two better not be screwing on the prop furniture!”

“Not yet!” Tom called back with a grin, and his lips crushed against yours before you could react.

[106alibi]

good graces ; bad luck

you looked up from your phone, pursing your lips as you watched heeseung order coffee from the counter, wondering why your stupid ass blurted out a cheery ‘sure!’ when you bumped into heeseung at the fitting room of a brand your supervisor, doyoung, had sent you to run errands at, and he had suspiciously innocently looked so glad to see you.

“so how have you been?” heeseung slid into the seat opposite you, handing you the coffee he had ordered for you.

heeseung had always been a friendly acquaintance, a pleasure to meet whenever he had a shoot with your magazine or was present at the dorm when you visited jake. on any other occasion, you would've been glad to see him too. but not now, not after what his best friend had done.

“i've been… okay.” you chewed on your straw, your eyes fixing on your fingers that fiddled in your lap.

“I heard what happened…between you and jake.” your head snapped up, observing as heeseung pursed his lips.

“I hope you've been coping well though, it's not anyone's fault things happened the way it did.” he sighed with a sympathy that somehow felt genuine. your eyebrows knitted. not anyone's fault? how could it not be anyone's fault, when the culprit lived and breathed the same air as him and made headlines for his new relationship?

your tongue poked the inside of your cheek as you tried to contain your raw thoughts, “I've been well. perfect, actually. I've been seeing someone.” you took a big gulp of your coffee.

heeseung’s face lit up, “that boxer, right? I saw your post! i had so many questions, like where you met him and all that… I'm surprised at how fast both you and jake moved on after your break up, but I'm happy for you-”

“wait, break up?”

heeseung blinked at your interruption, his silence making the cogs in your head whirl as you tried to decipher what he meant.

“heeseung, what did jake tell you about our ‘break up’?”

“oh… well he just said you broke up because rumours got out within your company and your boss wasn't happy with you, like, dating an idol. and like two months or so after that he started dating natty.”

things weren't making sense. while you had done your best to keep your relationship with jake a secret, the only other person who knew besides your girls was doyoung, and you knew he didn't give a damn about your love life. secondly, besides the fact that jake cheated on you, jake had also lied to his friends that he had broken up with you while you were still dating him.

while you were still missing him daily, wondering what he was up to. while you were still hoping for the day the two of you could go public. while you were still wishing him ‘good night’s and ‘love you's over the phone.

fuck. you had never felt so, fucking, played. that's why heeseung sat there, looking oblivious as shit because he was. because he was under the impression that the breakup was mutual, that no one was at fault.

you didn't have the capacity to sit in front of heeseung and explain the truth. you feared it would only humiliate you more.

“hey, thanks for the coffee. I need to get back to work.”

you hoped he didn't notice the slight tremor in your voice, or the dampness of your eyes. you crushed the empty coffee cup in your hands and tossed it in the bin on your way out as you trudged down the street as far away from heeseung as possible, your hands still balled into shaking fists as your anger seeped through your eyes and rolled down your cheeks.

you sniffled, bringing your fists up to your eyes to rub away your tears harshly, trying to suppress a sob that was bubbling up your throat, your legs still moving in constant motion as your elbow bumped into someone.

“sorry.” you muttered, turning to bow slightly, keeping your head low and timid as you turned to continue walking to god-knows-where, when a hand shot out to grab your arm.

“miss y/n?” and to your absolute horror, because bumping into heeseung wasn't quite enough bad luck for the day, you had to bump into jeno too.

prev | m.list | next

a/n: next chapter mayyy or may not also be written depending on whichever better expresses the scene I have in my mind. also I'm soooo sorry for the slow updates 😭😭😭🙏🙏

and!! I need feedback!!! do y'all think the pacing of the story could be faster/slower? or its okay where it is now?

taglist: @yutarot @rksbae @sevn97 @dreamiestay @raevyng @catpjimin @mrsjohnnysuh @xiuriii @minkyuncutie @jaehyunsjasmine @cookiehaos @jenoleeaesthetic @tynlvr @ohwowzersthatscool @rubiiisyeon @multifandomania @natokkiz @veilico @jeonghansshitester @jkslvsnella @jungaji @xyzsiissnnsnsjs @17ericas @elsbunny @grassbutneo @nosungluv @flamingi @xxxx-23nct @baobeii55 @shoetaroshoe @tannieflix @myballsareitchy2 @doyotint @mood-nyvy @hyuoonp @joyzluvr @livingdoll-hara @hyuck-me @zzurao @luvandletter @jae-n0 @stqrgr7 @dudekiss3r @ksywoo @kodasity @jirsungs @hibernatinghamster @blamingontheboogie @neozon3nha @catdonut657

[andcars]

ㅤ [ 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗪𝗘 𝗗𝗢 ]

premise. the media makes twists and turns of everything they see. to be fair, it's not like it's easy to explain your story to them. you just know you're quite satisfied to where you end up at the present

prompt # ㅤdominant carlos sainz, submissive oscar piastri, lLeaked sex tape, body worship, reader is a celebrity, pregnancy, power imbalance, baby fever [ "Wait, you’re famous?" + "Remember your safe word, I’m not fucking stopping" + “You wanted to be seen? You wanted to be caught? You’re so fucking turned on right now” ] tags #ㅤanonymous/masked sex, non-linear story wc #ㅤ 1.6k

ㅤㅤFEEL FREE TO INBOX ME FOR THOUGHTS OR REQUESTS !

| MASTERLIST⠀REQUEST ME⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀AO3

Over a year ago, there were cheating scandals everywhere including the three of you. You cheated on Carlos. Carlos cheated on you—and he’s gay! Oscar is a homewrecker. Oscar is also gay. The whole thing blew up into one explosion only to set off another one. It wasn’t possible if not for Oscar’s greatly dumb ideas that you all thought was funny at the time. Too funny, even.

A YEAR AGO AND A FEW MONTHS AGO

“You’re so fucking wet—” Carlos groaned, your pussy clenching on his cock that rams ruthless inside of you. Both his hands are grasping your tits. His grip is tight and you can feel his nails digging into your skin. “So fucking good for me,  cariño. Your body is so perfect, taking me in—like—this!” 

He was not kind. It was the opposite of the soft kisses trailing on your neck, the caresses on your hips, and the little moans on your skin. Oscar is breathing heavily, acting like he’s the one fucking—or getting fucked, you know he wouldn’t mind—in the situation. He moaned loudly when you do, looking into your eyes as Carlos is going faster and reaches deep inside of you.

The contrast of the two was almost disorienting. Carlos suddenly pulled out and you then noticed you came. “Go on top of Oscar. I want you facing him as I fuck you—Oscar keep your hands to yourself, I don’t want you touching anyone without my permission.”

Oscar nodded because that’s the only thing he’s allowed to do. You’re flipped to your front and lay limp on Oscar. He’s slightly sat against the headboard, your head ending up on his stomach as Carlos pulls you down on your cock. With a too-easy glide in your oversensitive pussy, he continued fucking you. The new position lets Oscar’s cock grind against your tits. He’s moaning and writhing subtly, panting as Carlos’ thrusts were powerful enough to give him the right friction. It didn’t give him release but it give him something.

“Look at the camera, cariño,” Carlos turned your head, “I want everyone to see your face when you cum.” You whined, wanting to look away but the red blinking of the camera got you focused. You almost felt everyone watching you then. “Fuck. Do you know how turned on you are? So wet. So—... you just wanna be fucked by us in front of everyone. So perverted.” He slapped your ass and didn’t stop until he reached his goal.

By the end of the night, you’re an incoherent mess. There’s drool on Oscar’s hips, cum overflowing your pussy and painting your tits, and your head is still too stuck on pleasure to process that it’s over. You’d say it was the best fuck you guys have but that was in Mexico last year. The two of them were on a high back then.

The squelch of your pussy is obscene. Carlos groans as he pulls his cock out, probably watching it drip down until he shoves his fingers to keep it all in. “How was it?” he asked, pretending as if he didn’t know you just fucked him that good. The heavy groan that fell from your mouth was enough for him, it made him laugh. 

“Okay then. With the footage… are we still..?”

Before he could get anything, you pulled Oscar to lay beside you and finally finish him off. He didn’t need to given permission to Carlos. Oscar was caught off guard and came all over your hand—”Shit!” he says, “I’m… Would’ve liked a warning at least.”

“Mhm,” You can barely form a single thought. “Just wanted everyone to be happy.”

“Clean up first, sweetheart,” Carlos kissed your head, patting your shoulders before hoisting you up. “I’m sure it’ll take.”

TWO YEARS AGO, GIVE OR TAKE

In the club, no one actually has a face. It’s like the rule of the place. You’re drawn in to the same masks over and over again though. Every other week, you see someone wear the ghoul and the gargoyle looking masks, all on different bodies and in different companies. However, there was a duo that consists of a ghoul and a gargoyle that caught your attention multiple times before. It seems like you’ve captured theirs as well.

On Mondays, there was a chance you will see them. On Mondays, you get to be fucked by both of them. The gargoyle is more experienced, fucks you with precision, takes the room in his control. Your hare mask was often pulled up just so that he could see the way you drool all over his cock. It should be against the rules but you never found yourself saying no to him

The ghoul, however, hovers above you and waits for permission. He will whisper praises, he will moan alongside you, he will look at the gargoyle and you like that both of you are the only things that give him joy in life. You don’t know how much that’s true.

It’s the seventh time you three meet, the first time that your masks will be taken off. It comes as a whim as the gargoyle takes the ghoul’s mask off—the other was surprised. You were surprised too. He looked… young. He had soft features and doe eyes. He looked nervous when he looked at you, almost as if he was scared that you would run away after looking at his face. He no longer feared anything when you took yours off too, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

“Do you still remember your safe word?” The gargoyle asks, his hands caressing your body. When a sharp thrust fills your pussy in one go, you’re pulled away from the kiss. He looks as if he’s enjoying your face a lot. “Don’t say stop, please, wait, if you think it’s going to do something. Say red or nothing at all, because I won’t fucking stop.”

He keeps his promise. The both of you are at his control, doing anything whatever he wants you to do. It's dizzying. All the demands and the pressure coming from him is something you wanna cherish forever. You can’t imagine anyone else to be experiencing this with. Not with how heavy his hands are, how deep his voice is, how the ghoul moans with even the littlest pleasure to him, how the ghoul grinds himself on your body and fucks your mouth desperately. This was something that was irreplaceable.

The gargoyle wore his mask until the very end. But when you came, he took his off to eat you out. He’s… mesmerizing. His eyes look fiercer without the cover of the mask. His messy long hair curls over his head as you grip on it for some control. He lets you. You’re being fucked on his tongue and all you can do is admire both of their faces for the first time.

It’s funny how you didn’t know they were Formula 1 drivers until you see their faces plastered on a poster. It was not like that mattered anyways. Your face was just across theirs on a concert advertisement. You have a date with the both of them tonight, you can admire their faces up close.

PRESENT TIME

You told the both of them long ago that you make music. They’ve seen the numbers on your Spotify. You don’t know why they’re acting so surprised when they arrive to the stadium. It’s still pretty empty except for the production crew preparing the things. You’re still comfortable in your pyjamas when you arrive with the three. They’re wearing the same comfortable clothes as you but for some reason, they’re acting too shy.

“I feel like I should change,” says Oscar, running a palm over his plain shirt and shorts. “Like I thought it was gonna be like… a more open and smaller venue?”

“Just say you don’t google me and move on, Oscar,” you laugh. He tries to say something but you’re being led down to the tech room. You have to help make sure all the right tracks are going to be played at a decent volume—not too loud but enough to be heard by everyone at a decent . Oscar and Carlos doesn’t seem to be sure of their positions.

This goes on for a few hours. You are dragged away endless times and they’re left following in your heels. Only when you told them to wait in the dressing room did they actually calm a little. Of course, that's until the fans came.

“Did you see how many people are outside?” Carlos asked, just having come back from behind the stage. “It’s completely full. You can still hear them all from here.” They're singing one of your songs, it's pretty clear from here.

“I’m happy that I bought mufflers for the little guy.” Oscar smiles. You smile too. The three of them have absolutely made your year. You look at your son in Oscar's arms, all wrapped around and ears fully covered. You made sure that the volume was all set. This was a bad idea, just like leaking that stupid sex tape just to keep all the journalists off your asses. Who the fuck beings their kid to a concert?

Carlos notices your worry lines. “Don’t worry. If she cries, we'll leave. We just can’t not attend your concert, okay? We know you’ve been busy recovering, so we want you to enjoy. Understood?” He’s kind. He’s kind when he’s not fucking you in bed, at least. It's really nice. Carlos smiles at you and kisses your forehead, patting your back.

When you leave, you briefly hear Oscar asks—”Is it bad that I never actually googled her once?”

Carlos, the saint, says, “She likes that. Same thing why she doesn’t know what a DRS is.”

@Delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @bicchaan

FOOTNOTE ────── first fic of the new year baby! hope ya'll try with me cuz ur boy is actually burning out lol. but this was nice to write n so I hope ya'll still enjoy :3

[geneviveleocardius]

cw: sexual tension, explicit sexual imagery, unspoken desire, power dynamics, mild language.

feat. johnny mactavish & simon riley x reader

simon didn’t usually indulge in these thoughts—thoughts of you. johnny’s girl. his best mate’s girl. but he wasn’t blind, and he sure as hell wasn’t unaffected. the way you smiled, the way your laugh lit up a room, the way you seemed so effortlessly you. it gnawed at him, deep down where he thought feelings had long since withered.

he wasn’t jealous. simon didn’t do jealous. not of johnny, at least. they were brothers in all but blood. but sometimes he wondered—why him? why not me? he’d never admit it, not to himself, not to anyone.

johnny saw it, though. that knowing glint in his eye every now and then, a smirk that told simon his thoughts weren’t as secret as he liked to believe. still, johnny never said a word, and simon never gave him reason to.

until tonight.

johnny’s text was casual enough: “swing by my quarters. need to talk.”

simon didn’t hesitate, pulling his mask on and heading down the hall. the base was quiet, dimly lit, the kind of stillness that settled late at night. but as he neared johnny’s door, the quiet was broken by something else.

soft moans, muffled but unmistakable, filtered through the gap in the door—slightly ajar.

simon stopped. his chest tightened, a flicker of something dangerous sparking to life inside him. he knew he should turn around, walk away, pretend he hadn’t heard a damn thing. but his feet didn’t listen.

the moans grew louder as he moved closer, and before he could stop himself, his gloved hand pushed the door open just enough to see.

and there you were.

you were sprawled beneath johnny, your body trembling with every thrust. your head was thrown back, eyes glazed and cheeks flushed, soft whimpers spilling from your lips.

“..fuck, bonnie,” johnny groaned, his voice low and rough. his hands gripped your thighs, pulling you tighter against him.

simon’s breath caught in his throat. he knew he shouldn’t be looking, knew this was wrong, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

johnny’s head tilted suddenly, his gaze snapping up to meet simon’s through the crack in the door.

and he smirked.

a lazy, knowing smirk that sent a bolt of heat straight through simon.

he didn’t stop, didn’t falter. instead, he leaned down, murmuring something in your ear that made you cry out, your legs tightening around his waist.

simon stumbled back, his hand gripping the doorframe as he fought to steady himself.

he left without a word, his footsteps echoing in the hallway, his pulse hammering in his ears.

he hated himself for it—for the way his body reacted, for the way his mind kept replaying the sound of your moans, the look on johnny’s face.

but most of all, he hated that johnny knew.

and didn’t care.