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philistiniphagottini · 1 month ago

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Take Me in Your Arms Part 2

Thank you to everyone who helped me come up with this second list. I appreciate the help and the love that you have shown to this silly little series. I really hope you enjoy the second part. Comments and reblogs would be highly appreciated if you want me to do a third part :D

cw. fluff, established relationships, gender neutral reader, chubby reader, minors DO NOT interact

Featuring: Topaz, Wriothesley, Zhongli, Boothill, Aalto, Yinlin, Gepard, Jiyan & Xiao

Part 1

Topaz:

Topaz invited you to morning tea, consisting of hot drinks and expensive, delicious pastries. You joined her everyday around the same time, without fail. You found her sitting at the table, a piping hot cup of tea in one hand while she looked at the digital tablet placed in front of her. Without even casting a cursory glance in your direction, she pats the empty spot beside her, inviting you to sit down and join her for your regular tea time break. You accepted her cordial invite and went to sit next to the empty spot beside her, completely missing the mischievous little smirk that painted her lips when you looked away from her. A small squeak was wrenched from your plush lips as she snagged her arm around your plump waist and drew you into her warm lap, your thick thighs draped over hers as she held you close.

“Topaz” you sputter, swallowing around the nervous lump in your throat as you squirm in her lap. “I’m too heavy to be sitting on you.”

Topaz shot you an incredulous look. “Nonsense” she scoffed. “You’re not heavy at all.”

Her words made your cheeks burn with the force of a raging sun and you struggled to come up with a coherent response, pressed so close to her that you could smell the scent of her flowery perfume lingering on her skin. Her grip around your soft waist was firm, indicating that she wasn’t going to relinquish her hold on you easily as she reached for one of the delicious cakes sitting by its lonesome on the table.

“These treats are delicious, you have to try them.”

She offered it to you, holding the sweet treat against your lips until you were tempted to have a bite. You spent the rest of the morning like that, having Topaz feed you delicious cakes while you sat pretty in her lap. Numby eventually decided to crawl into your lap, allowing you the honour of pampering him with ear scratches and chin rubs as you enjoyed your snack time with your girlfriend.

Wriothesley:

You were sitting in Wriothesley’s office while he filled out a stack of paperwork. You were sitting on his couch, flipping through a fantasy novel while the phonograph softly played music to fill the void of silence. Your fingers tapped along the spine of the book to the gentle sway of the music. You were so engrossed in your reading that you didn’t notice that Wriothesley had stopped writing until you were engulfed in his shadow. You paused in your reading, casting your wide, doe eyes up to him with a hint of curiosity sparkling in their depths. A small smile played on his lips as he politely bowed before you, a hand placed over his heart as he offered his other hand out to you.

“May I have this dance?” he asked, a hint of playfulness to his voice.

Your cheeks felt warm as you awkwardly cleared your throat. “I have two left feet” you explained. “I’ve never been taught a proper waltz.”

Wriothesley’s patient smile still tugged at the corners of his lips as he wriggled his fingers, trying to entice you to take his hand. “I can teach you. Just stand on my feet and I’ll do the rest.”

His suggestion makes you quickly shake your head from side to side, a timid look passing over your features as you shyly avert your gaze. “I’ll just squish your toes” you lamented. “I’m too heavy.”

The despondent tone of your voice only makes him worry. With the patience of a saint, he slowly reaches for your hands, making you drop your book as he wraps his large hands around your wrists and pulls you to your feet. Your surprised squeal quickly pivots into warm laughter bubbling up your throat as Wriothesley twirls your plump figure in a circle, strong arms catching you around your plump waist and pulling you closer until your chests are touching. You have to crane your neck back to look up at him, his ice blue eyes glimmering like crystals as he stares back at you. His thick arms wrap around your soft waist as he easily lifts you and hoists you until your feet are planted firmly on top of his. You shuffle awkwardly, scared that you’re too heavy to be standing on top of his toes like this but Wriothesley casts all doubt from your mind.

“You’re not a burden. Just follow my lead. You’ll be fine.”

His strong arms squeeze your plump waist as you reach up and coil your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in the baby hairs lining the nape of his neck as he leads you in a close, intimate dance. His heavy boots tap rhythmically against the floor as he slowly dances with you along to the soft melody, a smile playing on his lips as the tension slowly eases from your shoulders. Your soft body squishes under his touch as he spins you in place, eliciting a warm smile from your soft features. Only for you to erupt with laughter as he suddenly dips your body before wrenching you upright once more.

“See look at that, you’re a natural” Wriothesley chimes as he spins you once more.

You hum softly, eyes occasionally glancing at the placement of your feet. “It’s because you’re a good teacher.”

Wriothesley softly snorts in response, holding you closer as you both indulge in the dance just a little longer.

Zhongli:

You were dead tired after a long, hard day at work. A warm bath soaking in essential oils was a welcome treat and you simply melted into a warm puddle of goo as you relaxed your weary, plump body in the warm waters. Zhongli joined you as well, but not in the tub. Instead, he sat by the porcelain rim, helping to wash and detangle your hair of any knots. He even helped wash your back as you recounted the day's events, his deep voice calm and soothing to your ears as he washed your hair of any remaining soap suds.

“And the worst part?” you added at the end of your story. “I get to do it all again tomorrow.”

A warm chuckle breezed past Zhongli’s lips, his rich voice sending a pleasant tingle down your spine as he carded his fingers through your damp hair. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to the side of your temple and making you purr in content as the firm touch of his hands eased the aches and pains in your sore muscles.

“You’ll survive, dear” he replied. “You’re strong.”

You lapped up his attention eagerly, practically glowing with content. You soaked in the tub for a little longer, only considering getting out when your skin started to prune from being in the water for so long. Zhongli noticed too and he stood up to fetch your towel, his voice echoing off the tiled walls as it cut through the wisps of steaming stemming from your bath.

“I believe it's time for you to get out now, dear.”

You hummed in agreement as Zhongli’s shadow fell over you, small ripples dancing along the water’s edge as you tucked your knees closer to your chest. It wasn’t that you were reluctant to get out, but your legs felt like the consistency of jelly and you didn’t know if you’d be able to stand without some semblance of pain lancing through your nerves.

“I don’t think I can get up” you said.

You were only half joking. You really weren’t sure. You still weren’t keen on getting out. But Zhongli did not scold or reprimand you, telling you that you were exaggerating or rolling his eyes at your antics. He pursed his lips as he hummed thoughtfully, the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled past his elbows to expose the gold and amber engraved into his strong arms.

“Then I’ll just pick you up myself.”

You only just registered his words as he reached into the tub, arms looping under your armpits when he was suddenly lifting you. With a surprised squeak you followed his movements, standing on shaky legs only to have them swept out from underneath you in the next instance. Your head was slightly dizzy as your plump thighs rested over Zhongli’s arm, the other looped around your soft middle as he effortlessly lifted you out of the tub, water sloshing and spilling over the lip of the tub to wet the tiled floor below. You knew Zhongli was strong and he had picked you up several times before, but it never failed to make you swoon when he handled you like your weight was not a burden to him. You were dripping wet in his arms but he didn’t seem to mind the contact of your soft body as he placed you down on an old, wooden chair that was seated in the corner of the bathroom. You were only shivering for a few, brief seconds before Zhongli wrapped your big, fluffy towel around your plump body, placing another on top of your head as he assisted you with drying your hair.

You stayed nice and still for him as he ran the towel through your hair, massaging his fingers through the damp strands as he scratched a pleasant itch along your scalp. You peeked up at him beneath the towel once he was done, a little smile dancing on your lips as your eyes shimmered with amusement. He cocked his head to the side, waiting patiently for you to speak.

“Can you carry me back to bed too?” you asked.

It was more of a suggestion. A hopeful suggestion. And to your delight Zhongli nodded along, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“I can do that, little love.”

Boothill:

You noticed that you had been gaining weight recently. And that revelation made you feel miserable. Boothill started to notice your shift in mood as well. It was particularly concerning to your cyborg space cowboy when he noticed you picking at your food one day, a sullen look weighing down your features as you poked and prodded your food with the tip of your fork. He was sure he hadn’t seen you take a bite yet.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Boothill asked, mechanical voice whirring with concern from the other side of the table.

Your gaze flickered over to him, the chair he was sitting in creaking when he leaned forward. You shook your head as your gaze travelled back to your plate of food.

“It’s nothing” you denied, voice despondent.

“Ah fiddlesticks, don’t say it ain’t nothing darl. You’ve barely touched your food. Come on, you can tell ol’ Boothill what’s got you so down in the dumps.”

So you tell him. You lament to him how you’ve noticed your recent weight gain and how it is making you feel miserable. You can’t bring yourself to eat. Food doesn’t bring you joy anymore. Eating just means you’re going to gain more weight. Boothill only interjects when you start comparing yourself to other people who have perfect, flawless bodies and how you could never hope to achieve something like that.

“Hold up doll” Boothill said, brows pinched together in a fierce look. “Has anyone been saying something about your weight? Because I’ll go and get the muddlefudger and give ‘em a real good shake down.”

And you reply that no, no one has been saying anything to your face about it. But Boothill could still see the sadness lingering in your stare and it made him draw you into his arms. You resist at first when he tugs on your wrists, but with enough gentle coaxing you get up from your seat and make your way over to Boothill. You fall into his lap as he loops an arm around your plump waist, his other metal hand resting on your back as you balance yourself on his knee.

“Hey sweet pea, you’re not doing yourself any favours by stressing about it” Boothill said, his voice soft.

You hummed in response, still weepy eyed and looking miserable. It only made Boothill want to coddle you further. He tipped your chin in his direction, the cold bite of his metal fingers on your warm skin only stinging briefly before the cool touch started to heat up from the warmth of your skin.

“Now I know I could tell you not to worry about it until the cows come home and you’ll think I’m full of hogwash. But you’re the prettiest person I know and ain’t nothing gonna change that. It doesn’t matter to me if you gained a little weight. Hell, you need me to pick you up like last time and prove that I can still toss you around?”

His words eventually started to sink in the more he talked and that last part made you snort a little. Boothill was beaming that he finally was able to at least make you smile a fraction. He squeezed your soft waist, running his hand along the ridges of your spine as you settled more comfortably in his lap.

“Come on darl. You’ve got to eat. And if you’re still upset about all this later? We’ll work something out, I promise.”

Aalto

You had been feeling down a bit lately and Aalto started to notice your sullen mood. When he asked you what was wrong one day, on a warm spring day where the flowers were just starting to bloom once more, you told him what was wrong.

“I think I’ve been gaining weight again” you lamented, eyes downcast and shy as you avoided looking at your boyfriend.

A thoughtful hum stirred in the back of Aalto’s throat as he peered at you beneath the rim of his sunglasses. “Are you sure? Here, let me check.”

You barely register his words in your head, a soft “huh?” falling from your parted lips as Aalto waltzed over to you, wrapped his arms around your plump waist and lifted you up. You barely had time to brace yourself, hands scrambling for purchase on his sturdy shoulders as he held you aloft with ease, arms hugged tight around your soft waist as he flashed you a cheeky grin.

“Nah, you weigh the same to me” Aalto replied. “Light as a feather.”

A soft snort stirred in the back of your throat and you started to smile at his goofy attitude. Aalto was obviously impressed with himself, preening under your attention as you fondly shook your head, rotten thoughts dispelled as you pinched his cheeks until they were cherry red.

“You’re such a charmer” you playfully bit. “And a bit of a dork.”

Aalto playfully wriggled his eyebrows as you cupped his warm cheeks. “Yeah, but I’m your dork, hun.”

You couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him stupid.

Yinlin

Yinlin’s lap is reserved for you and you alone. Whenever you’re having a particularly bad day or whenever you start complaining that you’re just a tad too heavy, she’s immediately pulling you to her lap to coddle you. She babies you a little as she wraps her arms around your plump waist and balances you on her knees. She means well as she pinches your chubby, round cheeks between her fingers and tugs until you are smiling at her, giggling shyly as you playfully swat her hands away. Yinlin is good at weaving her words, validating your feelings and making you feel desired despite your complex relationship with your body image and weight. You feel pleasant tingles run along your spine as her fingers dance along your back, drawing soothing patterns into your body as she gives your soft waist a squeeze.

“Don’t beat yourself up, sweet thing” she coos. “I think you’re perfect, just the way you are. And no one can tell you otherwise. Not even you sweetie.”

You give her a bashful smile and nod, playing with the long strands of vibrant red hair as you silently start to knot braids into the silky smooth wisps, making yourself comfortable as Yinlin let you stay in her lap for a little while longer.

Gepard

You were running through the streets of Belobog, very, very late to a meet up with Serval. You were hoping, praying, that you weren’t going to be scolded for your tardiness as you rushed through the streets, dodging and weaving past people as you rushed to her workshop. Unfortunately for you, just as you reached the front door, you slipped on some ice in your haste, the heels of your boots making a terrible, shrieking noise that grated against your ears as you skidded. But fortunately for you, you ran straight into Gepard just as he left his sister’s workshop and if it wasn’t for his quick thinking, you would have smashed your face into the pavement.

Your head was spinning as Gepard caught you and saved you from a nasty fall, his strong arms wrapped tight around your plump waist as he held you aloft and completely halted your momentum. You swear you went cross eyed from the abrupt stop, your gut lurching and you felt like you were about to choke on the raggard breath that got lodged in your throat. You were panting like you were currently fighting for your life, your legs aching something fierce from having sprinted all the way from the other side of Belobog just to get here. You groaned in pain and squirmed in Gepard’s hold.

“Woah easy there” he said, arms squeezed tight around your soft waist as he continued to hold you. “Slow down and take a deep breath.”

You were both stunned from what just happened and unbeknownst to you, Serval was snickering at you both from the doorway, subtly reaching for her phone to take a sneaky picture of you two both in the moment. You absentmindedly pat Gepard’s arm as he helps to put you the right way up, yet he still refused to let you go easily as he examined you head to toe for any sign of injury.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head. “I’m fine, Gepard. Thanks for catching me.”

“You need to be careful. You shouldn’t be running through the streets like that” Gepard lightly reprimanded.

You opened your mouth to say something but you swallowed your words when you realised that he was still holding you off the ground in his big, strong arms. It was like your weight meant nothing to him and you were starting to swoon from the sight. Your head was spinning again for a different reason.

“Um, hey Gepard?” you asked, interrupting his small tirade about safety as you timidly licked your lips. “Can you please put me down?”

It took a long moment before Gepard realised just exactly how he was holding you and that you were a tad flustered because of it. He immediately apologised, stumbling over his words as he carefully placed your feet back on the ground. You hummed in appreciation, sparing him a sheepish smile as you straightened your clothes out. Serval snickered from the doorway again, a little louder this time and you both heard it this time as she playfully waved her phone, the screen displaying the awkward moment in clear, high pixel resolution. She crowed about it the entire week, calling you the cutest couple she had ever laid her eyes upon.

Jiyan

“Is something the matter?” Jiyan asked.

His question caught you off guard and the first thing to fall from your mouth was a very undignified:

“Huh?”

He’s not perturbed by your response. He actually thinks it’s a little endearing the way you had been caught in a seemingly peaceful daydream as you blinked owlishly up at him, the flutter of your lashes over your round, chubby cheeks an adorable sight that he smiled fondly at. He politely cleared his throat and started again.

“I’ve noticed you stealing glances at me for quite some time now” he explained. “Is everything alright?”

You feel your cheeks get warm under his soft gaze and you can’t help but fiddle with the flaking skin around your nails as a small distraction. You obviously hadn’t been subtle enough with the longing glances you had sent his way, staring at him for longer than was probably appropriate but given how intimate you already were with the General, he didn’t take offence to it. It looked like you had something on your mind as he patiently waited for you to carefully pick the words out of your brain and form a coherent response.

“I was just thinking…” you started. “I…have a request.”

You stole another glance at him, feeling your cheeks get hotter by the second as you squirmed on the spot and let your thoughts come tumbling out.

“I…Can you-Could you please pick me up in your arms?”

Jiyan stared at you in mild surprise, the request not at all what he was expecting. Before he even got the chance to respond, you immediately cut him off, waving your hands in the air as you tried to swat the words out of the air and dismiss the request.

“I’m sorry, that probably sounded a little weird. It’s just I let my thoughts wander but you don’t have to do it if you’re not comfortable” you rambled, going off on a tangent like you needed to give a satisfactory explanation for your behaviour. “Just ignore it, I know it’s a strange request and you-”

You only stop short when you realize Jiyan was standing right in front of you and bundling you into his arms without a second thought. You squeaked loudly, every muscle in your body locking up as Jiyan easily picked you up in a bridal carry, your plump legs thrown over his arm while he hooks the over around your soft waist. You stared up at him in a daze, words stuck in your throat as you stared at his handsome face as he offered you a kind smile.

“Like this?” he asked.

You swallowed the nervous lump in your throat as you started to nod your head vigorously in agreement. He made it look so effortless and you felt weightless being held in his arms like this; a complete dream come true.

Xiao

“Are you coming?” Xiao called down at you from atop the roof of Wangshu Inn.

You nodded in response as you slowly climbed the winding branches interwoven throughout the humble inn. Dusk was just settling in and tonight was going to be a clear night. Perfect for sitting under the stars and gazing at them for hours on end. A small huff puffed passed your plump lips as you reached for the next branch, pulling yourself up as you neared the shingled rooftops. Xiao stared down at you from above, his lips pressed into a tight, thin line as he took keen observation over your footfalls. You insisted that you could climb up here yourself and that Xiao didn’t need to use his teleporting capabilities to whisk you up. It was partial because whenever he did use that ability on you, it left you feeling nauseous for several, terrible minutes.

He was only able to stand watching you clamber up for barely a minute before he vaulted over the edge and decided to help you up himself. It’s not that you couldn’t do it by yourself, you were capable. It’s just he couldn’t think of all the possible cuts and splinters you would get, blemishes on your soft body that he highly adored. The thought irked him enough that he decided to help you the rest of the way. He wordlessly landed beside you and before you could get a word out, Xiao wrapped his arms around your plump waist and hoisted you up before he took a mighty leap and landed back on the rooftop.

Your head was spinning but in a pleasant way as Xiao slowly lowered you back down until you were standing back on your feet. You offered him a shy smile, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The sunset was gorgeous from where you were standing and as you admired the view, Xiao gently grabbed your wrist and guided you to sit down. Only for you to fall into his lap as he purposefully tugged you down on top of him until you were firmly seated on top of his legs. You figured Xiao must have been in a good mood if he was being so bold with you and the thought made you feel a little warm and fuzzy on the inside. He silently wrapped his arms around your soft waist once more, tugging you closer as he hooked his chin on your shoulder and watched the sunset with you.

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lilybug-02 · 8 months ago

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Bug Catcher Methods

Bug Fact: Bees have their ears located on their front legs!

First || Prev // Next

Masterpost

#Dewi: :3 #Hornet: >:(#Ghost: O O #comments and interaction is appreciated :D #Hornet knows she can't defeat the Beast. But she can at least negotiate #I absolutely love drawing this little comic series. It's such a fun breath of fresh air!#There will be probably about 3-5 more updates in the series. But im having fun!#hollow knight #hollow knight comic #hollow knight au #little ghost #hollow knight hornet #hollow knight knight #my art #art #Dewi's Adventures in Hollow Knight

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milkamel · 3 months ago

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Sooo since today is Kross Day (I’ve been making sure to keep an eye on the dates lol) I wanted to make something a little special so here’s a redraw of the first Kross art I ever posted- the difference is quite visible lol

THE OLD ART

A small message under cut :D

I wanted to make some more stuff but I had little time and figured that it’d be symbolic to remake something where my Kross, ahem, obsession started. Literally wasn’t in my plans but I can’t say I regret it. Love this ship with all my heart, it means so much to me. I’m very grateful to everyone and all the support (as I’m writing this I just hit 2k here on Tumblr IT’S INSANE!! Perfect timing >:D). Even though I don’t reply often to stuff just so you know I see it and it makes me incredibly happy to read comments and reply to asks <3 <3 (A while ago posting and sharing silly stuff felt like a chore that left me anxious and uncomfortable but now I just can’t wait to draw some more art of skeletons kissing-) I appreciate and love this fandom you’re all so kind and sweet I wish I could interact more but I’m too anxious and usually just lurk XD But despite that being in this fandom still has been a very positive experience for me personally Anyway thank you, everyone, I love you all <3

Killer belongs to rahafwabas Cross belongs to jakei

#undertale au #ut au #utmv #killer sans #cross sans #kross ship #criller #I can't believe my art changed sm in a year #Sending love to everyone in this fandom you're amazing guys!!#I'm being so corny lol- eh I'm always like that ngl #(I made this in advance btw I was just waiting for the date LOL)-#mmelart

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rinneverse · 10 months ago

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this has been on my mind ever since boothill got announced but what kind of kinks would this southern cyborg hunk have,,,??? like its not fair i have to wait so long for him grrr

fantastic question dear nonnie !!

after some careful deliberation, it is my absolute honor to say that i think that he's a big fan of overstim, restraints, and i'm not quite sure if this is a kink in particular but manhandling.

cw for nsfw boothill x f!reader thoughts under the cut!! minors do not interact, please and thank you !!

i've defo said this before but he's got unlimited stamina. he's devoted to your pleasure and will spend HOUURSSS on foreplay alone. due to having a cyborg body, he truly only gets true and real Human sensation with anything that has to do with his face. this is why i'm diagnosing him with cunnilingus FIEND. loves eating you out, having you sit on his face, anywhere and anytime. he does NOT care if you two are out and about in public, if he gets the urges, he's dragging you into the nearest closet, hoisting you up onto the nearest surface, slinging your legs over his shoulders, and going to TOWN.

i think about improper lasso usage with him alot—and maybe this is me just projecting my own kinks onto him, but i truly do think he's into it. he likes to pleasure you until you're trying to run away from it, but we can't have that, now can we? that's why he ties your wrists to the headboard and pins your knees to your chest as he pounds you into the mattress. you can't get away from him in this position and you're gonna take everything he gives you!*

(*obviously, there's a safeword in place that he absolutely will respect. but until that's said, he's having as much fun as he wants with you!)

with a cyborg body comes a scary amount of strength. he likes to toss you over his shoulder, pull and mold you into any position he wants (full nelson is a favorite of his for sure), and if he wanted to, he could truly just toss you around like a ragdoll. with that in mind, he knows that you've put your unwavering trust into him, so he's always absolutely sure not to break that! he knows the limits of the human body well (he's tested them and come back a cyborg, after all), so he's always sure to never go past what you cannot handle.

i definitely have some more thoughts on boothill and his kinks but there are some fics i'm working on that i don't want to spoil quite yet ... stay tuned !! :D

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

#☆ oakie writes #boothill x reader #boothill smut #hsr smut #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #oak needs water...#WE ARE SO BACK! late night boothill yearning YEAH YEAH YEAH!! <3

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sillystringpony · 6 months ago

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Sooo I tried redesigning an old adopt I made a year or two ago :D

I don't think my style has changed too much, but there's a good sense of cohesion and dynamic that has started to come through, which I'm really happy to see :]

btw the redesign is available for adoption!!! if anyone wants to offer, feel free to comment or DM me ^_^

psst, interactions are hugely appreciated <3

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myownwholewildworld · 20 days ago

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vi. O Seanalair - acta, non verba

chapter 5 | series masterlist | ao3 pairing: conqueror!marcus acacius x ofc!reader. summary: you irremediably find yourself in Marcus' bed again and make a discovery which may help your people. a/n: i have a genuine question. do people like long chapters? because i can't seem to stop when i start writing for these two D: as always, all interactions welcome, i do appreciate you liking, sharing and/or commenting! take care 💖 warnings: 18+, mdni. mentions of war, death, marital abuse, etc - i think you know the drill by now. attempted SA (not by Marcus), callie fights back. fluff and angst. some internal battles. smut. unprotected piv but no creampie. oral (m!receiving). fingering (f!receiving). sleepy morning sex. aftercare. marcus is 49, ofc!reader (callie) is 26. unbeta'd. if i'm forgetting anything, please let me know! w/c: ~11.3k. dividers by @\saradika-graphics taglist at the end (let me know if you want to be added/removed please!)

You couldn’t stop thinking about him, about what happened yesterday morning. Every time your mind wandered, it ran back to the exact moment Marcus buried himself in your slick heat for the first time.

How he made you feel. How he ensured you were comfortable and thriving under his touch. How he talked you through it and paced it down to make the whole experience even more pleasurable. How his fingers found refuge in your pussy, working you expertly in preparation to take him. How your cunt deliciously burnt with that heavenly stretch.

How you were gushing now for him, craving the fullness of his dick, pussy desperately clenching around nothing.

“Dè air thalamh? (What on earth?)” you mumbled to yourself, shaking your head to clear your mind.

The fact that the memory kept coming back―to your despair―was dangerous, extremely dangerous. Yes, sex had been good ― no, fucking amazing. But it didn’t mean anything, nothing at all.

A means to an end, that’s all he is, you mentally reprimanded yourself.

It shouldn’t bias you, despite how good he had fucked you. You couldn’t get… attached, because whatever this was, it was doomed from the beginning. That was what you had decided the first time you locked eyes with him in the battlefield, and you were not one to go back on a promise. Especially one you made to yourself ― to avenge your family.

To your disgust, you had to admit to yourself that it was harder to keep the focus on that now, knowing how satiated he had left you yesterday. It was truly shameful that you were looking forward to getting fucked stupid again.

In a couple of hours, hopefully. You couldn't wait to have Marcus plunge in and out of you. In... Out... So deep inside…

You bit your bottom lip down out of pure, horny desperation and pressed your knees together, containing the dampness that threatened to soak your underwear if you didn’t rein your thoughts in.

“A bheil thu nad shlàinte, mo bana-phrionnsa? (Are you well, my princess?)” Brighid’s soft voice pierced through your wet daydream, bringing you back to reality.

Blinking rapidly, you gave her a stern nod. A muted reply, since your throat felt dry with desire.

“Are you sure, my lady? You look flushed. There’s a fever going around in the village,” she pushed, lips pouted with concern.

Fuck, kill me now.

“I’m fine, Brighid, don’t worry,” you croaked once you found your voice.

Your cheeks were burning and had nothing to do with an illness. Unless feeling cock-drunk could be considered an ailment. Maybe it should.

“Are Daimh and Iona sick? Perhaps you―”

“They are fine. It’s just hot in here with the hearth running on full blast,” you cut her off, slightly embarrassed by the fact that Brighid had noticed your flustering.

But if she had been fucked the way you had been, she would fully understand. Of that you were sure.

Not by Marcus though, she can find another man. He’s mine.

What the hell was that about?

To avoid any further interrogation, you grabbed the jug, filled to the rim with wine. Veering around, you exited the kitchen promptly. The cold air of the hallway was most welcomed ― the Gods knew you needed it, considering you were about to enter the room where the personification of your wet dreams was.

As soon as you reached the double doors to the great hall, you quickly scanned the room. Every night the great hall of your family home would be desecrated with the presence of your enemy. The legionnaires were chatting and laughing loudly, goblets clinking with their contents spilt all over the wooden tables.

Once a sanctuary for your family and clan, you barely recognised it anymore. The beautiful tapestries that your ancestors had woven had been taken down, the stone walls bare and undressed. Even with the giant fireplace crackling nearby, it still felt cold. It even smelt different ― musty and sweaty, the lingering stench of death they carried coating the air.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you made your way to the dais. Only when you went up the wooden step did you realise that Marcus’ chair was occupied by a man you didn’t recognise, and Maximus’ spot was empty. Another sweep of the room told you what your blood already knew: for whatever reason, they had stepped out.

“Expecting someone else, puella (girl)?” the man on Marcus’ chair cackled as you approached, interrupting his talk with Cassius.

Raising a mighty brow, you decidedly ignored him, pouring wine in Cassius’ cup.

“I am talking to you, you stupid, savage woman,” he sneered.

Before you could think, the man laced his arm around your waist, forcing you to sit on his lap. Your blood ran hot with rage, palms itching to slap him until he fell unconscious. The need to turn around and spit on his face was a call from the Gods themselves.

But you couldn’t, not in a room full of Romans who would behave exactly the same way. You were at a loss here, and you only wished that when the day came and you encountered this bastard on the battlefield, you could slit his throat.

Clutching the jug between your hands, your eyes landed on Cassius. He was watching you with intent, almost studying you, but it was pretty obvious that he was not about to keep his man in check. If anything, he was about to fucking smile.

“Where’s that arrogant look now, huh?” the man cackled, pressing you against his tiny bulge.

“Do you really think you can threaten me with that?” you hissed, referring to the small erection brushing your buttocks. “That is the size of a barnacle.”

You definitely hit a nerve there, because the man pushed you off his lap hastily, grunting something unintelligible, but heard enough to know he was cursing you.

How bad you wished you could empty the contents of the jug on his face. For a long minute, you really considered it, running through the scenario and its outcomes in your mind ― you would be fast enough to catch him off guard, throw the jug at him and make a run for the small door on the back of the dais, latching it behind you and running up the spiral staircase to your father’s solar.

However, before you could act on any of it, Marcus’ deep voice interrupted your train of thought.

“Move, Brutus. Now,” Marcus snarled.

You turned around at the fury his tone distilled, his eyes locked on the man you now knew as Brutus. His pupils had darkened, his jaw tightened. Despite the tenderness he had shown you in the bedchamber, the General was an imposing man outside of it, and Brutus knew as much.

He soon scuttled away like the vermin he was, while Cassius straightened his back, eyes fixed to the front, avoiding contact with his General. Odd.

Maximus was a few steps behind Marcus, closing the door you had planned to escape through. The thought of both of them in your father’s solar didn’t sit well with you, but there wasn’t much you could say without blowing your cover.

“Dux Meus,” you bowed your head down, stepping aside to let him sit.

His opaque orbs lingered on you for a second too long, softening ever so slightly as he studied your composed expression.

You gave him a feeble smile, averting your eyes so people would not notice the brief exchange. By the way Maximus cleared his throat and a smirk curled his lips, you had not been as subtle as you had originally thought.

Once both men were seated, you proceeded to fill Marcus’ goblet. Your hand was still trembling with the fury that coursed through your veins, causing the jug to almost kick the wooden cup. Thankfully, Marcus caught it before it spilt.

His eyes shot to yours, and they were screaming at you. His mouth didn’t open, but his orbs spoke for him very loudly: Are you okay? What’s happened? They were mad with worry ― an honest one you didn’t expect at all. The hand that a second ago was straightening the cup, was now softly clamping around your wrist, the shaking gone under his soothing caress.

The weight of his sight, of his concern for you, was momentarily overwhelming.

“I’m okay,” you whispered before he spoke, giving him a reassuring nod.

“Are you―?”

“I’m fine, truly,” you insisted, worried that people would pick up on your hushed conversation.

Marcus finally let go of your wrist, and soon after you stepped off the dais to fill other goblets.

For the rest of the night, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. Before his private conversation with Maximus in the castle’s solar, you had been acting all lively and relaxed, but since his return, your features had been tamed into feigned calmness. Marcus could feel the anger simmering beneath your skin, seeping like venom dripping off a serpent’s fangs.

Wished he had stayed so could understand what had changed, but his duties to the Empire should come first. That morning, he had learnt that Agricola had been ordered back to Rome, claiming that the Caledonian tribes had been subdued, and his replacement would be Sallustius Lucullus. This news came like a shock to Marcus, who could not wrap his head around the fact that Rome was willing to withdraw the vast majority of troops to assist with other conflicts elsewhere in the Empire. It meant they would be left alone in an island that was far from conquered, despite what the false propaganda said.

They only had a couple of weeks before Agricola left with his men, leaving Marcus’ battalion, and other small military pockets around the area, in a very compromised position. In light of this new situation, Maximus and Marcus had discussed going to the Roman fort of Cawdor, just fifteen miles east of Inbhir Nis, to talk to Agricola before his departure.

But now, seeing your composed demeanour, he wished he could have stayed behind. It was wrong―putting you first before the Empire―but it couldn’t be helped. You lurked in the confines of his mind, ever present in his thoughts. It was even worse considering the ring that symbolised his marriage to another woman. Everything he thought he stood up for, crumbled the moment he had his first real taste of you.

His chest still swelled at the memory of you all pliable around his girth. How you had creamed, coating him in your arousal, the first time he sank into you. How you whimpered and hissed his name in ecstasy, the most beautiful melody he had ever heard.

However, it wasn’t only that what made him swoon, but how you blindly trusted him with your pleasure. How, despite being mistreated in bed, you had let him show you how a man should treat a woman. How fucking fulfilling it had been for him to see you fall apart, rediscovering how sex should really be like.

Marcus had never felt this way before ― caring, giving, in tune with your body. The connection that tethered him to you transcended the sexual aspect your relationship had taken. For the first time in decades, his heart was not as empty and cold. He found himself craving your eyes, your proximity. Not because he wanted to bed you again―he did―but because your presence put him at ease, even when war seemed to be knocking at his door again.

“I take you’ve finally bedded her,” Maximus’ jest forced his orbs onto his friend’s.

Marcus rolled his eyes to the back of his skull, his shoulders slouching. Sometimes he wished he could sew Maximus’ lips together or punch him square in the jaw to shut him up.

Briefly looking around the table on the dais, it seemed like the other men―Cassius, Valerius, Brutus and one of Valerius’ men―were immersed in a conversation of their own.

“That’s none of your business,” he gritted between clenched teeth.

Maximus palmed his shoulder, a hearty laugh reverberating in his chest.

“I’m just saying, the sexual tension every time she comes on the dais can be cut with a sword, my friend. Good for you, about damn time,” he congratulated Marcus, removing the hand from him. “I don’t understand why you want to keep it under wraps though.”

“Because some could think I’d be fraternising with the enemy,” Marcus admitted to his friend, knowing he could confide in him. “And it’s far from it.”

Maximus’ thick brows bunched up, confused with his reply.

“Because you’re fucking one of the savages’ whores? Like every man in your legion―”

“She’s not a whore,” Marcus quickly cut him off, anger firing at the distasteful insinuation.

Maximus was taken aback by his response, silence filling the gaps in the dead conversation for a minute. Marcus looked at his Commander, his own brows knitting now too. How dared he refer to you as a prostitute? The insult burnt his insides, he’d hate himself if your reputation was sullied because of your involvement with him.

“Alright, she may not be a whore, but she is a savage. Don’t lose sight of that,” his friend replied, the mock gone from his eyes. “If she’s not a prostitute, then what does she want with you?” he hushed, tone dropping an octave so people would not listen. “Do you trust her?”

Marcus’ frown deepened, his friend’s words gnawing at him. He had not even contemplated the scenario Maximus was implying ― he thought he knew you enough now, and you wouldn’t betray him like that. Not after yesterday’s passionate morning.

“Again, none of your damn business,” he sneered, emptying the Carmo wine in his mouth with finality.

“But it is my business to worry about your safety, dammit. I’m your second in command,” Maximus sighed, a hand pinching his nose. “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, Acacius. There’s a lot at stake here, as you well know.”

Maximus’ reminder of his duty to Rome just angered him more.

The night was coming to an end, with the Roman soldiers scattering and walking back to the barracks. You had seen most of Marcus’ retinue leave the dais too, and you hoped you could catch him alone before he retreated to his chamber.

You were returning from the kitchen with an empty wooden tray, hoping to clear the last of the goblets off the tables and call it a day. Saying that you were looking forward to fuck Marcus tonight was an understatement ― not even the small incident with Brutus could put out the fire between your thighs.

As you ambled along the corridor, you almost collided with someone. Gripping the tray tight so it wouldn’t fall, you looked up to apologise, but the words stuck to the back of your throat.

Brutus. His cold hands clamped like a vice on either side of your waist, fingers buried so deep in your skin it would bruise. He slammed you against the stone wall, his body flush with yours and his nauseating mouth too close for comfort.

Your heart was racing wildly as your mind was coming to terms with the situation, drafting a plan.

“You’re not so fierce now, are you? How dare you insult me in front of my Commander, you slut?” the stench of his breath reached your nose, and you couldn’t help but make a face. “You are nothing more than a cockroach. If I want, I can squash you under my foot like the filthy bug you are.”

Before you could snap back with a retort, he grabbed the tray you carried and threw it to a side, then his mouth covered yours. His lips were cold and tasted horribly, his tongue trying to find an opening into your mouth. You jostled, but the grip on your hips was so tight you could barely move. His stubble prickled the skin around your mouth as Brutus kissed you sloppily, your teeth still shut.

Vile rose up to your throat, your initial panic transforming into steadfast resolution. This fucking cunt was about to get what he deserved. Who did he think he was? He was nothing, no one. A man you could best in the battlefield with one hand tied to your back and the other one holding a wooden sword, all whilst blindfolded.

When his hands loosened on your waist to very harshly squeeze one of your breasts, you took the opportunity. You lifted your knee up hastily, hitting him right on that tiny bulge he seemed to be so proud of.

Brutus started wailing, crouching with his hands protecting his groin. Placing your hands on his shoulders, you pushed him back ― snarling now, ready to fight. Quickly you snatched the tray off the cobblestone and as you were lunging forward to hit his head with it, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, freezing you in place.

Bewildered, you turned around in the arms that held you to redirect your anger at whoever dared to stop you.

Your resolution faltered the moment your emerald greens met Marcus’ brown irises.

Marcus didn’t understand what he had walked into but was pretty sure that Brutus was about to be in the receiving end of your wrath. Instinctually, he had jumped into the situation, hoping to deescalate it by holding you in place so you wouldn’t kill the man. Because if you hurt the man, Cassius would ask for your head, and he would be between a rock and a hard place.

But the moment you veered around in his embrace and Marcus saw the reddened, wet skin around your mouth, he understood.

For a second, he only stared at you, eyes fixed on your swollen lips. His brain had gone quiet, but the sudden cacophony of his own voice asking for blood brought him back.

“Marcus,” you whispered breathlessly, and his stomach churned at the unspoken plea.

His hands freed your hips to cradle your face, delving into your glassy green eyes. His heart flipped, torn with the idea of what Brutus had tried to do.

“Are you okay?” he asked the question he wished he had said an hour before.

“Aye,” you replied with a small voice.

It didn’t calm him down. In fact, he was seething with rage, blood boiling in his veins with a protectiveness unfamiliar to him.

Once he ensured you were alright, he liberated you from his grasp and faced Brutus. Commandeered by his own anger, Marcus seized Brutus by the neck of his toga, forcing him to stand up and pinned him against the wall as one of his hands clutched around the man’s neck.

Marcus really contemplated the idea of killing him. He wanted the man beheaded and six feet under. How dared he touch you? Force himself on you? Even if you weren’t his to claim, it wasn’t right ― Marcus could never put up with how badly some men treated women, so he would never allow it in his ranks.

“Marcus, don’t,” you called from behind, your soft hand squeezing his shoulder. He looked over it, jaw clenched, to glance at you. “I think…” you paused, “just let him go. I have a bad feeling about this.”

The sense you talked into him finally filtered in, and Marcus released the purchase he had on Brutus, taking a step back. His hands curled into fists at his sides ― he really wanted to smash his skull in, but you were right.

“Get out of my sight,” he muttered, and Brutus quickly obliged.

The moment you two were alone, he looked for you. His hands reached out, one sliding around your waist and his other thumb ghosting over your bottom lip. His heart was still pounding, ears ringing with fear. He couldn’t ask how you were, knowing it was an obnoxious question given the circumstances.

Your gaze locked in on his ― blown pupils, crazed darkened irises. But as much as he searched, Marcus didn’t see any dread in you. Had you been so used to being mistreated by your late husband that what happened unfazed you? How desensitised were you?

What he did see was the ghost of a past memory haunting you, the haze of years of abuse clouding your eyes. You didn’t need to speak it; he could feel it.

His heart cracked at the thought. And what pained him most was that one of his own men was who brought back the pain he had not seen yet swirling in your eyes. And it was so prominent now, he almost folded, lungs burning with ragged breaths.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, removing his hand from your face, afraid his touch would incite any more distress.

Your head tilted, eyes regaining part of the spark that reeled him in.

“You have nothing to apologise for, Dux Meus,” you uttered under your breath. “As a matter of fact, I wasn’t in need of rescuing, I was about to smash his head in and have his brain scattered around the floor.”

Despite your smile, there was no joke in your low tone. He realised you actually meant it. And he shouldn’t be surprised, considering he’d already seen you take a man’s life with no regrets.

“I know, but I failed on my promise.”

“What promise?” you asked, confused, with a cocked brow.

“I swore to you that I wouldn’t let this happen again. And it has, right under my nose,” Marcus confessed, the ride back to the castle after the attack still vivid in his mind. “That you wouldn’t need to defend yourself.”

Your brows lifted, expression softening and lips pouting. Were you trying to hide a grimace?

“It’s alright,” you shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

You said it as if it was meant to make him feel better, but it had the opposite effect on him. If anything, it made him feel worse.

The faded sound of footfall approaching broke the moment, both of you untangling from each other and taking a couple of steps back. Marcus watched one of the other maids scurry along, her scared eyes dancing between the two of you. For a moment, it seemed like she was about to intervene in defence of you.

“Do Ghras (Your Grace),” she mumbled in your language, one Marcus didn’t understand a word of.

Quickly, you gave her a stern look and the girl’s eyes widened dramatically, then bowed her head down and ran towards the double doors as if the devil himself was chasing her.

Your eyes shot back to his, pupils enlarged again, studying his face with a vehemence that would have forced any other man to look away. But he didn’t, mesmerised by the strength you were showing after what had happened. Any other woman in your situation would be upset, but here you were standing as if nothing of relevance had happened.

His eyes lingered on your face, deciphering how you really felt. The darkening purple mark tarnishing your bottom lip really concerned him, to the point where he couldn’t stop himself from raising his hand towards your face.

Your head snapped back away from his touch. Marcus flinched at the rejection, slightly hurt ― but he couldn’t blame you for reacting that way, he should have known where the limit was. It was understandable that you didn’t want to be touched after…

His blood began to boil again ― Brutus would pay, he would find a way to make him suffer.

As his hand dropped back to his side, you took a step forward towards him ― your fingers lacing around his wrist. The caress of your palm against his skin was warm, but your gaze was warmer. Marcus froze in place, overpowered by your eyes.

You averted your beautiful orbs, looking down to the cobblestone, as your free hand tucked away a stray red curl behind your ear. That mere gesture flooded his chest, replacing anger with care. Despite how strong-willed you were, there was this aura of innocence around you; one he had not fully perceived until yesterday morning. Now that Marcus thought he knew you a tad more, every piece of the puzzle started falling into place.

But you still surprised him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Trained reaction…” you trailed off with half-lidded eyes, your teeth sinking in the cushion of your bottom lip.

You didn’t need to finish that sentence for he knew how it ended. Your late husband was, once again, sullying your thoughts.

Heart clenching in his chest, Marcus reached for your cheek again, this time successfully. His thumb hovered over you bruised lip, afraid he would inflict more harm than good.

“No need to apologise, mel. It’s okay…” Marcus hushed, still madly worried about your well-being. “Did he… did he hurt you elsewhere?”

You nodded before nuzzling your cheek against his open palm. That simple action had his heart racing and melting at the same time. He really needed to get a grip, or he’d lose his damn mind over you ― something he could not afford amidst impending war.

“My hips,” a very long pause, “my breast.”

If his blood had been boiling before, now it became sharp icicles scratching the insides of his veins. Hearing you say that actually caused him physical pain. His heart had stilled, then resumed its maddening beating, deafening him.

When he trusted his voice had returned, he cleared this throat.

“Can I check, please?” There were no veiled intentions behind his ask, just honest consternation.

You shyly nodded after a brief pause.

You followed Marcus through the corridor, his forearm softly hugging the small of your back and his broad hand splayed on your hip. The possessiveness of his embrace was weirdly soothing.

Checking over your shoulder, you ensured no one witnessed your affectionate exchange. And once you arrived and took shelter in your old bedchamber, the tension gripping your shoulders dissipated.

But the anger inside you still burnt hot. Brutus deserved what you were about to do, had Marcus not interfered. But when he did, something about the whole night nagged at you. As if there was a bigger plan at play, one you could not construe yet.

“Your lip’s bruising, mel,” his voice tinged with concern forced you out of your thoughts.

When he touched it again, you winced. Brutus the Brute had done a bit of a number on you, one you hoped to repay in the near future.

“Can I see, please?”

Well, this was not how you expected the night to go, because judging by Marcus’ rigid stance, sex was out of the cards.

With a heavy sigh, your fingers lifted up your long skirt, exposing your loincloth. Bunching up the fabric, Marcus’ hand and gaze dropped to your mid-section, fingers careful when pushing down the hem of your underwear. His caress venerating, too respectful in comparison to how he treated you yesterday morning ― the contrast abysmal.

His eyes squinted, nostrils flaring, but he quickly tamed his furious expression. Looking down to where he was focused, you understood his reaction. Where Brutus’ fingers had sunk in the flesh of your hips, he had left deep, purpling imprints ― an aquarelle with shades of red, lilac and blue.

“What a cunt,” you hissed when Marcus’ thumbs ghosted over the bruised skin on your hips. His eyes swiftly looked up at you, apologetic. “Not you, him,” you clarified.

You hoped your half joke would lighten his temper, but it didn’t. If anything, his brown orbs darkened even more, a black veil consuming his dilated pupils.

Awright, no jokes when he’s in a bad mood, you mentally noted.

“Show me, please,” he husked, eyes loitering on the neckline of your dress.

His gravelly words shouldn’t have sent a shiver down your spine, but they did. This wasn’t the fucking time to get all worked up, but the effect he had on you had seeped further into your being than what you originally thought.

I’m so fucked up.

With a trembling hand, you pushed down the frill of your neckline, your left breast spilling over. You held back a raspy breath when the cold air of the room hit your sensitive skin and felt your nipple perking up.

You didn’t dare to look down, eyes fixed on Marcus’ torn face. His lips had fallen into a flat line, jaw clenched as if chiselled by the Gods themselves. And while you were burning hot under his inquisitive stare, his eyes were… cold.

Were you broken past the point of repair? Had Iain shattered you so much, altered your perception of sex? How would you, otherwise, explain why you were roused right now when you should surely feel at least shaken up?

By Red Cap’s beard, I’m sick. There’s got to be something wrong with me.

Sick with lust, perhaps. One you needed to control, because when Marcus cupped your breast, there was nothing sexual in his hold.

Pure, utter worry painted his features, his brown irises opaque.

“I’ll kill him,” he muttered under his breath.

When his thumb stroked the skin under your aureola, your eyes finally drifted down.

Seeing the growing bruise around your nipple was a goddamn reality check, as if someone had thrown a jar of icy water on you. It looked bad, really bad. You didn’t think he had such a tight grip on your breast, but the rush of adrenaline had drowned any other feelings, letting survival guide you.

It reminded you of a time when your body was covered with marks and lesions, and you would do your utmost effort to conceal the damage Iain had caused. How you made up excuses when your siblings queried about a bruise you could not camouflage―oh, don’t worry, I’m just clumsy―or a new limp―ah, it’s fine, I fell off a horse―that had you barely walking.

How you hid under layers of textile when visiting family so your father wouldn’t feel the guilt of shipping you off like cattle to the slaughter.

“For peace you must,” had been his final words before Iain snatched you away from the comfort of your home.

Fiercely loyal, you played your part dutifully. For clan you had silently suffered for a decade, not even once questioning your father’s decision. You endured what you had to, so your people would know peace in their time.

Never once did you let the façade tumble down. Never once did you show your fear, your desperation ― your thirst for freedom.

Never once, until now.

Seeing those bruises again brought back all those feelings you had deeply buried and thought forgotten. Panic bubbling within the walls of your chest, you blinked rapidly to clear the tears that threatened to fall.

Years of abuse crawling back, clamping your throat, stalking your mind ― it all came back in a trice. Your heartrate quickened, the sensation of nasty ants creeping along your skin unbearable. Trying to calm your agitated breathing, but the memories only making it all worse.

Suddenly you felt the searing pain when Marcus brushed your skin again. Not physical pain, but the kind that had tangled itself up around your entrails and become a part of you ― strangling your resolution, your very being. Silently suffocating you for a decade.

Why was it all coming apart now, out of all the fucking moments?

“Hey, look at me, hey. It’s okay, mel,” Marcus’ mellow voice pierced through your eardrums.

Wet eyelashes fluttering, you glanced up at him. For the first time, feeling lost in a loch of torment.

Marcus’ chest squeezed at the sight in front of him.

Your face tilted up, a downcast expression distorting your beautiful features. Your mouth had parted, letting out a trembling sigh that had him shaking with you. Your eyes, always bright, sparkly green, were now of a deep shade of a darkened hue, your blown pupils swimming somewhere in there. And they became darker with every spent tear that wetted your cheeks.

He searched your face, impending dread consuming his heart as your curated front crumbled. Something primal twisted within him, a sense of protectiveness gripping him tight.

Marcus couldn’t see you like this ― with your defences down, as if you trusted him enough to hold the pieces of you together. For a fleeting instant it felt overwhelming, staggering him.

But he knew what he had to do ― what he wanted to do. Marcus let go of his gentle grasp to envelop you in his embrace, hoping to bring you some sense of tranquillity. One of his hands softly rested on the back of your head, fingers lost between your red curls.

At first, your arms were just loose by your sides, but soon enough, when the warmth of his body seeped into yours, you laced them around his waist, hugging him in return.

Time became ethereal, and Marcus wondered if what saddened you had anything to do with today, or past events. You had hinted at a life of marital negligence, and he couldn’t help but ponder the atrocities you had to survive. Society wasn’t kind to women, at least in Rome. Was your culture any different in that respect? How had your life been?

Not easy, by the looks of it. And it pained him realising that, especially after seeing the fierce side of you. The part of you that intrigued him the most, that reeled him in despite the wedding ring on his finger.

How could someone even dare break your spirit? How did Brutus even dare to breathe in your direction?

“I’ll kill him,” he reiterated in a hush, lips pressing on the crown of your hair.

“No,” you muttered, leaning back to let him dive in your determined eyes. “I think that’s what he wanted. What Cassius wanted.”

“Cassius?” he repeated after you, confused.

You paused, lips pouting, and then nodded with averted eyes.

“Aye. There’s something about him that is not quite right… Do you trust him?”

Why was everybody making him question other people’s loyalties today? He couldn’t afford the doubt, not when Agricola’s departure was just around the corner. Marcus needed as many men as possible, and he had to trust them.

“Yes, I do. Don’t worry about him, or about―” he stopped himself before Brutus’ name leaked. “Let’s not talk about them now. Come sit.”

Marcus carefully guided you to his bed as you readjusted your dress, palm pressed on the small of your back. Once you settled, he turned around in search of the concoction Atticus had prepared for his wounds ― a mix of aloe, lemon juice and onions. The balm had been cool and soothing on his skin, so he hoped it helped alleviate your pain.

He snatched it off the chimney’s sill and walked back to you, handing it over so you would apply it. The pad of your fingers touched his knuckles, the feathery caress of your gentleness. When you didn’t grab it, Marcus foraged for your eyes.

“Will you help me, Dux Meus?” you whispered, tone stripped of your usual snappiness.

“Are you sure?” he found himself saying, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

You gave him a soft nod in reply, gathering your long skirt and holding it around your mid-section.

Marcus crouched down in front of you, knees cracking with the friction of time, and dipped his index and middle fingers in the gelatinous mixture. He reached for your hip, one last undecided glance at you, and then gently rubbed the composite on your skin.

You sighed at the touch, shutting your eyes, muscles visibly relaxing now.

“Does it feel good?” he asked, eyes focused on the other side now as he administered the balm.

“Aye, it’s cold. Tapadh leibh a Seanalair” you muttered, palms resting on the mattress as you leaned back.

Marcus’ brows pinched together at the unrecognisable, softly delivered words, but it didn’t stop him from pressing soft circles on your skin, hoping the imprint of fingers would disappear.

“Is that―”

“That barbaric language, yes,” you retorted, head tipped to one side, your green orbs watching him with intent.

Inevitably, he flinched. Those exact words had almost slipped his tongue when you both were returning to the castle after the skirmish in the forest. It was hard letting go of the old ways ― Romans always considered other cultures uncivilised. Now having been in Caledonia for a few months hadn’t wholly changed his mind, but he was starting to see that you all were more similar than what Rome had her people believe.

As a General, he had been trained―indoctrinated―to not see humanity in others. That was the only barrier keeping him from losing his sanity. Because if he saw other people eye to eye, if he acknowledged their humanity, then the resolution to wield his gladius would falter in battle.

And his resolution had faltered. Once.

“May the Gods protect and guide her, for her path is to become darker today,” was one of the few exchanged words that Murdoch of Inbhir Nis had whispered to him before Marcus claimed his life.

They still haunted him to this day. The piercing shriek of the female warrior still rang in his ears like a broken bell, her scream a dark omen it was hard to forget.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” was his poor attempt at apologising. You cocked a brow, expectant of another explanation, and Marcus sighed, realising that was a lie. “Perhaps I did, and for that I’m sorry.”

“Not following Rome’s doctrine doesn’t make us savages, Marcus,” you hushed, expression softening. “Just different.”

“I know that. I just― Force of habit,” he shrugged, slightly embarrassed for being called out. “What does it mean?”

“Aye means yes. Then I simply said thank you, General,” you explained, letting your skirt go after the concoction had dried on your skin.

“Seanalair means General? It sounds so different,” he thought out loud. “I like it. Although Dux Meus sounds better to me,” he ventured with a lopsided smirk.

“Does it now?” you laughed, the first time a crack of happiness making its appearance.

For a moment you didn’t say anything else, just pushed down again the hem of your neckline for him to spread the mixture on your bruised breast. He didn’t waste time, being extremely careful around the sensitive skin of your nipple as to not cause you any more pain.

“You like it when I call you Dux Meus, don’t you?” you said under your breath, voice low and laced with need.

Marcus’ sight shot up to yours in the blink of an eye, removing his hand from your chest. The unexpected tone caught him off guard, so focused on spreading the balm he almost missed the seductive inflexion in your tone.

He couldn’t reply, breath hitching at the back of his throat while a ray of warmth travelled down his spine.

His reaction felt wrong given the circumstances that brought you to his bed. Feuding with himself, Marcus froze when your hand found his cheek, cradling it. You bowed down towards him, the tip of your nose brushing his aquiline one.

“Don’t you?” you insisted, your mouth now ghosting his, testing his wavering resolve.

“I do,” he avowed, eyes fluttering close when your lips caressed his. “Callie― I don’t think this is the time.”

Your head canted back, a flash of anger swirling in your pupils, robbing him of the warmth of your mouth.

“Don’t tell me what I want is wrong. I am not going to let that bastard and his ruffian manners take away from me what I desire. Who I desire,” you retorted back. Not appealing but demanding. “I want you, Marcus, and I want you now. Yesterday you asked me to come back, nothing has changed. Is this not why you’ve taken me to your chamber?”

The carnal delivery of your words gnawed at him, your last question triggering his heart to spike, rejecting such vile idea. He was not a man to take advantage of anyone, least a woman who had barely escaped the hands of a repulsive scoundrel.

“Of course not. I wasn’t thinking of― Deodamnatus (dammit), Callie, I just wanted to help you,” he gritted, springing tall to his feet and raking his curls back in muted desperation.

You swiftly followed, rising up from the bed with unravelling determination in your eyes.

“Then fucking help me. Help me forget his hands, replace his memory with yours,” you beseeched in a hush.

This was fucked up. You were fucked up in the head, it was the only reasonable explanation to why his caress while applying the concoction had turned you on, literally a few minutes after you were crying your sorrow in his embrace.

You knew you shouldn’t, but your body thought otherwise.

And despite the wrong timing, you were serious about not letting Brutus ruin this, ruin you. He was just another notch in the weave of your life, another man who had wronged you, and you were not about to let him become more than that.

You were done with letting men dictate how you should live your life. How you should or shouldn’t react, how you should or shouldn’t feel. You had been ashamed of your sexuality your whole life, forced to be a sack of meat for a despicable man since a very young age. Marcus had soothed that fear, letting you rediscover what you actually desired, opening your eyes to a new world of wants and necessities.

No, you were not fucked up. Men were. You were just dealing with the repercussion of their fucking actions the best way you could. And if Marcus thought otherwise, then he was just part of the problem, not the solution. No matter what he had shown you so far.

Good fucking riddance.

“Faex (shit),” he exclaimed under his breath before framing your face between his broad hands.

His mouth crashed against yours, teeth colliding. The moment his tongue sank between your lips, you moaned a sigh of relief, the heat between your legs enlivened.

The desperate strokes of his tongue had you answering with fierce ones of your own, fingers quick to find the V opening on the front of his toga so one palm slid across his ribs. His skin felt like fire under your touch, and you only hoped that heat was redirected south of his tummy.

Stalking the hairy trail guiding you down, soon enough you found his manhood. Still soft and pliable, you felt a throbbing pulse shooting up his length. With a smirk, your fist clamped around his girth and Marcus gifted you with a guttural groan that you eagerly swallowed.

Slowly you began pumping him, working him hard, while his mouth ransacked yours with tidal force. His cock palpitated and you felt high with power, knowing you literally had him on the palm of your hand. Thumb swiping his wet glans, you squeezed him hard, endowing you with yet another rumble.

“I want to taste you, Marcus,” you purred against his lips, drunk with the memory of your visit to Naimh’s cottage.

“Fuck,” he blurted out, jaw as tight as a bow. “Don’t― Fuck,” he repeated after another compression on his already stimulated cock.

His resolution finally dissolved. While still gripping his shaft so he wouldn’t go anywhere, Marcus unwrapped his toga in quick motions, the white fabric falling to the floor and leaving him completely exposed to your hungry eyes.

Marcus was the fucking reincarnation of Alator, all hard edges except for the welcomed softness of his lower tummy. Your mouth watered at the sight, proving it difficult to show self-restraint.

This time around, you were not shy to undress yourself, anxious to get started. Then you faced him, both standing bare in front of the other.

And without any other words, you dropped to your knees. Marcus closed his eyes, face tilted to the ceiling, while his erection swayed at your eye level, enticing and yearning for your touch.

The second you fisted his base and led him to the damp warmth of your mouth, Marcus hissed between gritted teeth, his eyes meeting yours instantly. Suckling on his flushed head, you maintained eye contact with him, but when the musky taste overtook your senses, your eyelashes fluttered close as you gave yourself free rein on his cock.

Your tongue twirled around his glans, the tip playing with his slit to clean off the precum beading there. Then your lips trailed down his length, pressing gentle kisses on your way south to lick the heavy balls underneath. When you were satisfied with the spit covering his sacks, you lapped his underside, feeling the throbbing, feeding vein until your lips sealed shut around him again, hollowing your cheeks to make room for his delicious girth.

You went through the motions over and over again, revelling on his taste, on his growing weight on your tongue. While saliva and precum overflew, dripping down from the corners of your mouth, you looked up again.

Marcus’ heavy-lidded eyes were transfixed on you, his hand gently resting on the back of your head to feel your bobbing. His hips slanted forward when you stopped, waiting for him with an open, welcoming mouth.

Slowly he fed you, rocking his hips softly, while you remained still below him. The tip of his mushroom head kissed the back of your throat, and you irremediably moaned around his circumference, clamping your lips on him.

When he pulled back, the pop sound forced you to open your glassy eyes. A bridge of spit connected his angry tip to your swollen lips ― a connection that reached further down to your gushing pussy.

“Stop, mel. Or I’m going to come,” he pleaded, caressing your cheek with a tenderness that contrasted heavily to what you had just done.

“And is that a bad thing?” you asked innocently, blinking rapidly as one of your fingers swirled in the air between you to catch the thread of saliva and push it into your mouth, licking your finger clean.

Then you pressed a kiss on his tip, lingering with parted, waiting lips.

Marcus pouted, his fist wrapping around his base to contain himself, but couldn’t resist the urge to stroke your lips, swiping his glans a few times on your mouth.

“No, it isn’t. You’ve sucked me so good, mel, but I want to fuck you as you deserve,” he admitted, and you definitely didn’t argue.

He extended a hand towards you, which you gladly accepted to stand up to your feet.

“And I want to fuck you so good, you’re even going to forget your name,” his promise made your slick pussy throb at the expectation.

“That’s all I’m asking,” you whispered, crawling onto the silky bed.

His gaze tracked you like a wildcat chasing after a vole, lingering on the swaying of your hips as you inched forward, settling on the centre of the mattress. You saw his eyes darkened with desire, taking in the moment ― for a tad too long, because his attention drifted to the bruising skin on your hips.

“Marcus,” you called softly, shifting his attention as you coaxed your thighs apart, your sweet dripping nook in display for him.

He stilled, transfixed on your sex as if it was the first time you bared yourself in front of him. His mouth fell flat into a fine line, then the tip of his tongue flicked out to lick his bottom lip ― a simple gesture that had your pussy leaking onto the linen.

Without a second to waste, Marcus joined you on the bed posting himself between your legs, his broad frame blanketing yours as you slowly sank into the feathery cushion underneath. Your hands reached up his ribs, tracing the battle-scarred map of his skin until your palms rested on his shoulder blades, pushing him down towards you.

This time, the kiss was gentler, paced. The languid strokes of his mouth pulled a wanton moan out of you as the weight of his throbbing cock rested heavily on your mound, his balls rubbing against your puffy fold every time he leaned forward. It was feverishly intimate ― the way his nuts would kiss your sex, your clit writhing in your seam.

The soft pressure of his lips turned into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. His hand cradled your left breast with reverence, thumb skimming your pebbled nipple delicately and incessantly. Fingers intertwining with yours, Marcus brought your laced fists down your belly and past his erection.

Guiding your hand, Marcus pushed your own fingers past the cover of your seeping slit. A throaty sob escaped your lips, eyes shutting with pleasure, as the General showed you how to press tight circles on your thudding clit, leading you and your desperation right to the edge of a cliff. A now-known wet warmth pooled around the bottom of your spine, your inner walls squeezing nothing but the emptiness of your womb.

“Oh…” you cooed, back arching into his chest.

“You love that, don’t you?” Marcus teased you, his fingers moving yours against your slick nub. “You’re melting, mel. You’re so wet already, why?” You didn’t reply, brows pinching in concentration, mouth agape. “Did tasting me excite you, hm?” You gave him a little shy nod, too focused on the thunderous, pulsing feeling in your cunt. “You enjoyed sucking me, having your sinful mouth full of me… dribbling, just like your pussy is drooling now.”

His sweet talk had you gushing again, his thumb now drawing tight, precise circles on your clit as your middle and ring fingers framed it for him, for his delightful attention. The sensation was so intense, so delicious, it curled your toes as your limbs stiffened ― climbing up Beinn Uais (Ben Wyvis) was less strenuous than this.

Your lungs were burning, heaving now, but your pussy was catching fire.

“O mo chreach (oh, my goodness), Marcus― I’m coming, don’t stop,” you begged, lewd noises spilling from your mouth. “Please, please, don’t stop.”

“I won’t, sweetheart. Come for me,” Marcus purred, mouth ghosting yours, inhaling your needy whimpers, fingers insistent.

At his command, you did. Fuck, did you come… Your pussy clenched almost painfully whilst your overstimulated button pulsated maddingly in your seam ― your whole body quivered as you reached for the sky, stars bursting behind your eyelids.

And as you came crashing down, an intense orgasm hitting you from all flanks, Marcus led your fingers away from your twitching clit, down to your leaking hole. He rammed your two digits in your pliant, slimy opening, compelling you to fuck yourself throughout your blissed climax.

Your pussy wolfed down your own fingers down to the knuckles with ease, Marcus’ hand halting the movement of yours.

“Curl them,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. “Curl your fingers, touch that spongy spot for me.”

Still blissed out from your high, you followed his directions as your eyes fluttered open. His blown pupils had yours in a trance as he watched your expression transform when you found the precise point he had referred to.

Without breaking eye contact, you fingered yourself under his attentive guidance. Pleasuring yourself like this should feel wrong, but Marcus made it seem as natural as breathing. His constant reassurance became a mantra, humming his approval when your hips jerked up in ecstasy.

Suddenly, his middle and ring fingers joined yours in your tight pussy, the burning stretch almost unbearable. The feeling of fullness so severe, you started withdrawing your own hand.

“No, don’t pull out, mel. Follow my lead. I know it’s overwhelming, but it’ll be worth it,” Marcus breathed. “Trust me.”

You did. So far Marcus had shown you a path of pleasure you thought forbidden, and this was not the time to doubt him. With four fingers shoved in your throbbing pussy, the palm of your hand cradling the back of his between your thighs, you let him guide you ― it was overwhelming… but in the best fucking way possible.

Marcus knew perfectly what he was doing, because soon enough the pads of his fingers were persistently rubbing that tender spot on your anterior wall while his thumb smothered your clit yet again.

“Fuck, I-I’m coming again…” you hiccupped, whimpering aloud now as the coil inside you started tautening again.

“You’re pulsing so hard, do you feel that?” he gritted out, your walls squeezing all four fingers tight. “Such a sweet grip, mel.”

“Y-yes,” you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut as another tidal wave washed over you with an ungodly force.

You screamed Marcus’ name, tears spilling from the corner of your eyes due to the intensity the orgasm hit you with. After that, you felt your cunt beating for a very long minute, the contractions further apart as you relaxed under Marcus, all sweaty and satisfied.

“Do you think you can take me?”

Your heavy eyes flew open at Marcus’ strained voice. Looking down, you realised his cock was still resting on your mound. A constant trickle of precum had slid down his shaft, a milky puddle sitting on your skin.

Even if you were tired, you couldn’t deny him ― not when he had been so mindful with your needs. And, truth be told, you wanted him inside.

You didn’t reply. Instead, you curled your fingers around his girth and slid his glans along your slick slit, soaking him in your arousal. You lingered on your sensitive clit, rubbing it with his tip a few times until you led him down.

The moment his throbbing head kissed the mouth of your cunt, you knew you could come again, no matter how tired you thought you were. You led him in and let go of his thudding cock when he was halfway in.

You sighed, trying to relax your muscles, but your pussy had a mind of her own. His girth pried your pussy lips open and, once fully seated inside you, Marcus froze in place. His brows furrowing as you fully sheathed him, wrapping him in your wet, tight heat.

“I could stay here forever. You hug me so tight, take me so well now…” he hushed, leaning forward, his weight almost crushing you. “You only need a bit of encouragement, patience… And I am a very patient man. I’d be so happy with just making you cream, mel.”

He was right. Sadly, you were no stranger to sex, but this kind? This was so new to you, sometimes you doubted yourself ― what you were doing, how you were doing it. Something about Marcus made you feel insecure, because you didn’t want to disappoint him. For once in your life, you wanted the man to enjoy you, make you fall apart.

Your head spun around to the point of almost fainting when he pulled back softly and then back in. A wail broke free from your mouth as Marcus slowly but steadily rutted into you, picking up the pace with every mind-blowing thrust.

You dug your nails on his back, leaving bloody crescent moons behind. His mouth hunted down your lips, fusing into a deep kiss as he fucked you good and harsh. The snapping of his hips against yours filled the room with wet, squelching sounds ― the atmosphere brimming with the musky scent of sex and sweat.

Marcus dove in so deeply, you swore you could feel him in your throat. His sharp stabs hit all the right spots, another climax building up ― both of your sexes pulsing in unison, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. It wasn’t long until you were creaming around his girth again, moaning like a madwoman as another climax overtook all your senses.

The General pumped his cock into you relentlessly, fucking you through yet another wave of ecstasy. He pulsed inside and you knew were close to finding his own release. When your walls relaxed around him, Marcus swiftly pulled out, a chesty groan bouncing between the walls of the room ― his flushed, reddened glans nudging your clit as his warm spent spurted out in thick, white ropes.

His cum clung to your pebbled nub, sliding down your tacky, swollen pussy lips and pooling on the sheets underneath.

Marcus kissed your forehead before falling to the other side of the bed, utterly spent. His skin glistened under the candlelight while his chest raised in quick succession.

As your heartrate calmed down, you giggled, the most content you’d ever been. Marcus looked at you, a creeping smile curling his lips, and extended an arm towards you, inviting you onto his chest.

You were quick to accept, your blushed cheek resting on his sternum. He kissed your forehead again, a slight brush that pulled a satisfied sigh out of you.

Neither of you spoke for a while. Surprisingly, the silence was comfortable, calming in a sense. You never got to enjoy the aftermath, too busy with keeping yourself together. This was different.

Marcus was different.

But he couldn’t be. He was just another man focused on the next battle ahead, planning your demise. Whether you liked it or not, the General was your enemy, a conqueror ― the incarnation of everything you hated. The man who had killed your father right in front of you, with his expression blank and devoid of emotion.

You hated him. You should hate him. Your determination shouldn’t falter just because you were fucking him. You were not doing it for your own enjoyment; you were doing it because you had a purpose. In fact, you should be repulsed every time he put his hands on you, every time he easily sank into you, blissfully stretching your inner walls.

And despite everything, despite knowing who he really was, you still… liked him. You were not disgusted by his touch, but horny for it, craving him.

You were so fucked.

Marcus stirred under you, battling his own demons.

He knew this was wrong but couldn’t stop himself. There was a gravity around you that pulled him in, no matter how hard he fought against it. Irremediably he found himself orbiting towards you, like two stars in a colliding path.

There’s no harm in having a little fun.

But was it just that? A little fun? Couldn’t be, not when his unoccupied mind kept drifting back to you. Before he would be thinking about the next step, what he needed to do to win the next battle, but now war was far from his mind.

He wished he could shut the door and keep the outside world at bay. He wished he could live in this little cocoon with you.

But duty always called.

You had fallen asleep on top of him, so carefully he moved you off his chest. His mind was so loud he couldn’t follow you into Morpheus’ realm.

Sitting back on the bed, Marcus looked over his shoulder at you, sleeping on your side. Your face was buried in the pillow underneath, your red curly hair an angry could around you. Completely naked on his bed, you were a godsend. A voluptuous figure with generous, round breasts; your moonlight skin glistening with the product of your pleasure.

His eyes travelled down your figure, arriving at the sweet gap between your thighs. His cum was still smeared all over your mound and pussy lips, dry and tacky, a reminder of the shared passion.

Damn, you looked beautiful.

With a sigh, he got up and walked towards the basin near the fireplace. The fire kept the water lukewarm, and he dampened a clean rag and wringed it out. Walking back to the bed, Marcus sat beside you. Delicately, he pushed one of your legs aside and swiped off his spent, cleaning your folds with extreme care not to wake you.

But you did. One of your eyes fluttered lazily, and looked over your shoulder to stare at him, slightly dishevelled.

“You alright?”

Marcus smiled softly, discarding the rag to the feet of the bed as he laid down behind you, head propped up on his hand.

“Yes, I was just wiping you clean,” he muttered, kissing your shoulder.

You groaned with a smirk, pushing your sweet ass against his hardening bulge. Your buttocks rubbed his growing erection as your eyes shut again.

“Another round?” you whispered and then bit your bottom lip, wriggling your hips so his manhood found refuge in the gap between your thighs.

“You nymph,” Marcus moaned. Your heat was turning wet again, soaking his now stiffened cock. “But I can’t, I―”

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” you husked sleepily, one of your hands slipping down your belly to grab his beating dick poking between your legs. “Just a quickie, Marcus, please,” you added, leading his leaky tip inside you.

There was no discussion after that. Groaning, Marcus plunged in in a smooth motion, your velvety walls parting to greet him and hug him tight. His arm draped around your waist to hold you in place and began fucking into you from behind. You hummed your approval, Marcus paying worshipping attention to your neck, kissing and nipping at it.

When you squirmed and whimpered, your pussy clamped down around him with force, announcing your orgasm. Still rutting into you, the hand holding you down trailed down your belly to gently pet your clit.

Your moans grew louder and needier, your ass pushing back into him, meeting every thrust. You came sobbing his name, strongly pulsing around him, wetting his cock and balls with your warm cream. Mustering all the strength he could, Marcus pulled out, his dick resting between your pussy lips.

You pressed your thighs together to squeeze his throbbing manhood and cradled his glans as he pumped himself between your inner thighs, his tip kissing your clit every time he pushed in. A minute later, Marcus came undone too, his warm spent landing on your cupped palm around his mushroom head.

Marcus remained still behind you as his cock softened and both of your breathings calmed down. Your eyes were still closed, but a smug smile curled your lips.

“See? I was quick,” you retorted.

“Always true to your word,” he joked, pulling back to grab the forgotten rag. He began rubbing your skin again and you parted your legs to have him wipe you clean. “But I really need to go.”

“So soon? Where are you going?” you pouted, craning your neck to glance up at him.

“It’s almost dawn. I…” Marcus fell silent, pondering his options.

He could tell you where he was going as a test to your loyalty. Prove Maximus wrong. He didn’t know why but confiding in you felt natural.

Marcus really wanted to trust you. If nothing went wrong, then he would know he had nothing to worry about.

“I’m going to the Roman fort in Cawdor with Maximus. We need to discuss some news we’ve just received,” he explained, carefully studying your expression.

“Oh, okay,” you muttered, completely unbothered by the information he had just shared with you, as if he had just told you that today was going to rain. “I’ll leave then.”

“You can stay and sleep in, no one will bother you here, mel,” he kissed your shoulder, heart lighter, before he stood up and started putting on his black armour.

You rolled around to lay on your other side, watching him dress with your hands tucked under your face.

“Need a hand with that?”

“No, I’m okay, thanks,” years of practice made it easy. He tied the belt around his waist and sheathed the gladius, then walked towards the bed to bend down and kiss you goodbye. “There’s some more of the concoction there. Please use it.”

You nodded your agreement, still half asleep, and Marcus stepped out.

The moment the door had closed behind Marcus, you had sprung to your feet, dressing yourself in a frenzy. But knowing you couldn’t just follow him, you had paced around the room for half an hour.

You had never run faster in your entire life. Once in the stables, you had fought with Kelpie to saddle her and trotted to Bonnie’s crannog. There you had encountered Torcall, who grilled you with questions.

“Where have you been? You’ve been gone the whole night! I was worried sick! What the hell are you up to?! Don’t tell me you’ve been with him, please.”

Needless to say, you didn’t answer any of it. You were a grown ass woman and didn’t need a nanny. Plus, it was none of his fucking business.

You had not intended on falling asleep on Marcus’ bed, but you had felt so at ease, you hadn’t fought your heavy lids.

You just told Torcall that you had gotten your hands on some valuable information and needed to go again. You knew that Marcus was testing you, if you could be trusted. If you told your father’s men about this, they would take action, outing you in the process.

No, you had to go alone. If you passed his test, then you were sure he would share even more in the future, just what you wanted.

Daimh and Iona were at the dining table, breaking their fast. You had kissed each of them before vanishing again.

It didn’t take you long to track down the prints of hoofs on the muddy eastbound path. Soon you caught up with Marcus and some of his men. Maximus, Cassius and Valerius accompanied him, as well as three other legionnaires you did not recognise.

You kept your distance from them and traversed through the forest instead of the path to avoid being seen. After three long hours, you finally arrived at your destination.

You were not prepared to see all those troops at Cawdor. There were hundreds of soldiers, the fort brimming with life. At the same time Marcus and his retinue arrived, a legion did too.

Why were there so many men here? Something was going on, something that could change the course of history. Was this just a repositioning exercise?

There were no women in sight, so you couldn’t just put a cloak on and blend in as you had intended. So you remained in the shadowy edge of the forest, hidden behind a tree.

Suddenly Marcus halted and veered his horse around. Someone from the newly arrived legion stepped out on a white horse.

“Governor Agricola,” you heard Marcus say in a greeting.

“General Acacius,” the man said back.

So, this was Agricola, the man who terrorised Caledonia. You wanted to hate Marcus, but your easy hate for Agricola burnt hot. He was the one responsible for the defeat of your people, the one who had taken prisoners in boats and parade them around the coast to show others what would become of them if they rose up in arms.

“We’ve heard the news of your premature departure, Governor. We wish to discuss the defence of Caledonia in your absence,” Marcus spoke clearly.

“Not Caledonia. Britannia, Acacius. That’s its new name. Use it,” Agricola’s arrogance seeped through his stupid smile.

Britannia? The bastards had already renamed your land? How fucking dared they?

But this was huge. It seemed like Agricola was leaving, possibly taking many of his men with him. If that was the case, the number of Romans in Caledonia would drastically reduce, giving you a fighting chance.

The snap of a branch behind you startled you, quickly turning on your heels. The forest was dark, so you squinted your eyes while scanning the area.

Perhaps it had just been an animal, so you redirected your attention back to the men.

To your misfortune, they were walking through the portcullis and a second after you lost sight of them.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

You ran back to Kelpie, needing to make the way back home fast.

Finally, some good fucking news.

@orcasoul @immyowndefender @sjc7542 @fairiebabey

@thepalaceofmelanie @harriedandharassed @whoaitspascal87

@verybigvag @jessthebaker @ivoryandflame @missadangel

@pepperstories @mewantpeepaw @inept-the-magnificent

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icekkeugf · 6 months ago

Text

pairing: co-worker!jake x intern!reader (afab)

genre: porn without any plot, really...

warnings: jake is reader's work senior, breach of professional boundaries, impatient unprotected sex (p in v), creampie, use of the names "baby" and "babe", no apparent d/s dynamics

wordcount: 1,500ish words

note: koko engene era and writer era comeback >_< i can NOT for the life of me build on a plot but i hope this is to the enhablr residents' liking :P

a soft rustle of the sheets as his knees, clad in slacks, scrape against the silk. fingers, calloused and normally familiar, coming to rest on your thighs, thumb pressing into the side of it before painting a few circles deftly. an erratic sigh of your name slips past the confines of his mouth, his wet, pink tongue prodding out of its home to lick at his bottom lip that was previously tugged onto by his teeth. "jake...please!" head spinning, you suddenly deem it to be the perfect moment to recall what really propelled the two of you to disregard the boundaries that you once gave too much concern to.

it was a chilly evening, with dried and brown-leaved trees withering from the apparent breeze, creating a sullen atmosphere. not to mention that you had no interest in attending your internship work hours, but you were also carefully made the scapegoat for the irresponsible mistake of your direct supervisor. now having to clean up the spilled milk and possibly gather it back to its purest form, you push yourself against the backrest of your chair. id card hanging loosely over the button that conceals your pink bowed bralette, you squint at it, tears threatening to wash out at the very next and slightest inconvenience.

that's exactly when sim jake, a senior of yours at the internship, prances in, seemingly in the brightest mood possible. jake and you haven't really had the chance to interact much, holding yourselves to the occasional formal greetings and polite smiles in passing. however, neither of you could deny the instant attraction you'd felt upon your first meeting and the gradual increase in the tension that lingers in the air, on the verge of jeopardizing both of your jobs. of course, this does not tempt either of you to breach the lines of your professional lives.

"jake. there you are! our intern would appreciate your guidance." to your luck, you find him immediately walking to you, a quirk of his brows while his head tilts to the side. mustering up the last of your confidence, you nod hesitantly at jake, not failing to notice how his tie had been loosened to the point it almost seems fashionable. you don't comment, however, for the loosened tie provides you with an uninterrupted view of his milky skin and the expanse of his chest while he leans over you.

the gawking doesn't go unnoticed, his lips forming a thin line with a raise of his fingers to push his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. "is that what you need help with?" you, at first, only seem confused—a sweet little deer caught in headlights—but when his gaze lingers over your face, then your shoulders, swerving left to your collarbones—then, to the little skin exposed above your blouse, you know you're doomed. because, how are you to explain to him the reason behind the very visible clench of your thighs, now pressed flush together?

it doesn't take long for the day to go by; it's a blur, really, filled with the vivid memories and sensations of jake's fingers that barely hover above yours as he maneuvers your handling of the desktop. the fleeting eye contact coupled with heaving chests when one catches the other staring a little longer than what is professional or normal makes you fuzzy. so, it's no surprise that things finally escalate when jake conveniently lets himself into the elevator that is otherwise empty except for you.

there's no need to exchange words as he backs you into a corner, his hips pressing against yours gently while his palms reach around your waist, caressing your lower back through your shirt. it's all teeth and tongue when his lips finally crash into yours. a desperate groan that he allows you to swallow resounds in the elevator that indicates a stop on the 14th floor. you frantically push him away while he fixes the one messy strand of his hair, his glasses fogged up by the minimal contact.

you can't recall how you had to sneak into jake's backseat while he drove you two out the office parking. constantly teased by your toying hands, his resolve completely slipping, his hips pathetically rutting into the air while his knuckles whiten at the tight grip he had on the steering wheel. now, back in his lush apartment, glowing gold, an erratic sigh of your name slips past the confines of his mouth, his wet, pink tongue prodding out of its home to lick at his bottom lip that was previously tugged onto by his teeth. "jake...please!"

the said man lets out a short gasp, his name sounding so sweet when rolled off of your honeyed tongue. he reasons that he can't wait anymore, unzipping his slacks in a go, waiting for you to do the same with your pencil skirt. with difficulty, you do so, fleshy thighs bulging against his mattress, making his cock twitch in its place. not letting you speak another word, he pulls on your thighs, manhandling you into laying your lower half below his. no thought in his head, only the primal urge to fuck you into oblivion, and with that controlling his mind, he lifts your hips with a singular hand while the other tugs at your panties, letting its thin strip sit at the side to display your cute, puffy folds.

he almost moans at the sight of your glistening pussy, the pretty gem visibly begging him to dip his tongue in for a taste. "you're perfect, baby. look at you, so pliant under my touch, your pussy's so pretty. all for me, yeah?" he asks, not really intending for you to respond to him, just blabbering whatever at this point. with a swivel of his hips, there's a sudden intrusion that has you cussing instead, your walls shamelessly clenching onto him like vice.

jake grits his teeth at the sensation, pistoning his veiny cock into your cunt with a certain force that has your eyes rolling back. “god, would've fucked you sooner if i knew your pussy was this good, baby.” he cries out, his hands finding home around your arms and pulling you onto him as he kneels down behind the mattress. even as you sit atop him, he doesn't stop rutting into you, fucking you like a rabbit in heat.

nipping at the skin right above your chest, jake rolls his hips to try and find a different angle. you kiss him on the mouth in appreciation, spit mixing together. you're driven far enough to tear up at the sensation of his cock lodging itself so deliciously inside you. you allowed yourself to rest your nose against his, lips parting while you unconsciously drool like a puppy, pavlov's theory, you suppose.

jake moans while you sink your head into the crook of his neck, licking and sucking at his unmarked skin, almost as if you're setting your claim on him. “you’re making such a pretty mess, babe.” he whispers after a long while of just the sounds of the bed springs squeaking and headboard rattling against the wall. this is just before he is delivering one final thrust and then spilling his seeds into your warm cavern. the warmth from his release has you clenching around his slowly softening dick, a tidal wave of orgasm crashing and making you thrash against him. jake breathes out, panting against your lips, before inviting yours to meet his one last time for the night.

#jake smut #jake x reader #jake hard thoughts #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader

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troublesh00terfaery · 2 years ago

Text

BELOW 18 PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT. THIS WORK IS NSFW! KEEP OUT!

[THIS WORK IS PURELY FICTION]

[One Shot] (or not, thinking of making a part two for this)

[Alhaitham x AFAB! Reader]

Words: 6.8k

Synopsis: ah well, experiments can quite lead to either expected results or something unexpected. don't you agree?

Tags: AFAB! Reader, teasing, breeding (we doing it raw for him), voyeurism, just kinky sex with this man what else? anal, creampie, a looooottt of sex, making a movie with him, well guess it's valentines for you this night with him :D

A/N: I'm gonna have to be honest with y'all, this smut made me realize I still have my unholiness within me and it's HOLY WEEK! anyway, starting to question if I should make a part 2 (seriously thinking this is okay as a one shot). Let me know in the comments. I'm also thinking of making a playlist while you guys read this, will probably open a yt account very soon as I have already have the list of songs! did not thoroughly proofread so my bad.

FOLLOWING, REBLOGGING, INTERACTIONS, AND FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED

Being a student under the Amurta Darshan wasn't a joke, and the other Darshans can say as well with their respective schools. Before graduating under their respective house, one must comply a special research in order to finish. Of course, being an Amurta student, research isn’t new to you nor to them as well considering the demands of research in the biological and medical field is rising.

Recently, a type of fungi has emerged in the rainforests of Sumeru. It was a great variable for research, yes, however with little to no information with regards to the new species of fungi, one must analyze and observe the organism intricately. Some of the Amurta students felt overwhelmed of studying something unknown and new however the new biological specie sparked interest in you that gathering and studying it wasn't of a big deal considering the Sage has given the graduating students time with their research.

You took the interest of how this mushroom might affect an individual if consumed. Very cliche however if taken into a researcher's perspective, it isn't. Considering of the possible harm this specie might cause if ingested. Nah, it didn't scare you. You just happen to be that curious considering of the hearsays you often hear among the localities. Peculiar, most of them saying.

It would appear that it does somehow look like a sea ganoderma that is abundant in Inazuma that bloomed near the beaches and shores however these fungi have bloomed in damped areas in the deep forests of Sumeru. The color of this fungi might be different from the usual ganoderma as it was the color of light purple. It did somehow secrete a transparent and mucilaginous fluid with a sweet odor.

Quite a strange description that even at times you smile whilst gathering its viscous fluid for examination.

"Are you even sure about this one? You're genuinely scaring me." Kaveh, who happens to be your closest friend and a student from Akademiya under the Darshan of Kshahrewar, was one of the test subjects for your research. He is a year ahead of you, making him your senior. "Am I your lab rat again?"

"Not just you, I'm also going to drink it myself to test it out and see if there are any notable changes or changes in an individual if one drinks this concoction."

You watched your boiling flask create boiling bubbles and watched it disperse as you used a stirring rod. "Don't use the word 'lab rat' that just sounds so unethical."

Kaveh's scared and nervous demeanor was obvious that he took a deep breath before he went off ranting.

"What am I supposed to call myself? What am I supposed to do if this weird witchy-like potion of yours kill me? Kill you? KILL US?! goodness research is inevitable among us students but this is jeopardizing us, my dear Y/N!"

"It won't!" You snickered and tried to comfort him by keeping a straight face. "Besides I did try to use it as an alternative fertilizer and spray it on my Sumeru roses."

You pinpointed a pot just below your study table. "It quite bloomed quickly and as you see. It did sprout new buds in almost 2 weeks only so I can write in my observations that it can be a great fertilizer if used."

"It's a plant, Archons sake! It looks lewd too!"

"It is, I will not lie!"

He drew his nose closer to the fungi. "Strange but it does smell good, sweet and flowery. For a fungus, it is weird."

You spent your afternoon trying to convince Kaveh to say yes to your research. In the end he eventually said yes to you as you have persuaded him that it was safe. Both of you agreed to drink it after two days and another follow up take in of the concoction to see if there are any differences.

Two days have passed and it was the time to finally test out the mixture you have prepared. Along with you was a small briefcase that was filled with your apparatuses needed. Of course, like they say: it's better to be prepared. At exactly 7:00 in the evening, as agreed by you and your friend, you must meet him at his house.

Or his friend's house rather.

Of course, you were aware that he was indeed a freeloader inside nonother than Alhaitham's house but he assured you that during that time the Akademiya's scribe isn't present during those times considering that he's been busy the past few days.

To you, there's nothing special about Alhaitham. Rather than being the scribe and an introverted Haravatat student.

Well, he's quite good looking and somewhat that annoyed you. He somehow did radiate as someone with god complex and if ever the end of world happens, he's gotta be one of those people who will AND WILL survive.

You have arrived 10 minutes early of the said time but it seems that Kaveh is late for 10 minutes. Until it became 20 and 30 minutes late. At first it was bearable however you couldn't waste time anymore. You wanted to finish your research just like any other students.

"I can't believe he's pissing me off. He told me he'll be early." You stood up and knocked three times.

"Kaveh? It's me. It's already 7:30 in the evening and you're not opening the door. Open it!" The annoyance dripping from your tone like acid.

You knocked again. No response.

Another four more knocks and calling his name. No response.

Fuck, Kaveh what's the matter with you? Come out.

Another final succession of knocks and still no response.

You gave up attempting to knock and call his name. It was either: he was just hiding from you because it did genuinely scare him or he wasn't really there. But he couldn't lie to you, you both agreed to testing out the mixture.

"Alright, whatever. Loser."

Heaving a sigh, you stepped back from the door and murmured a few words before accepted defeat and just before you walk away, you happen to stumble something strong and tall from behind and you could immediately tell that it wasn't Kaveh. Your head against a chest.

You slowly lifted your head and greeted the face of nonother than Akademiya's scribe.

"If you knock like that, you'll surely destroy my door." He lowered his gaze to match yours with a rested expression.

Oh, it is indeed Alhaitham. It is indeed him. Him. Oh.

Oh...

Neither of you moved from that position for a while, both of you matching the gazes before you realized it was awkward and slowly lowered your head and made way for him and pretended to idle yourself by fixing your skirt. To be fair, he is really THAT attractive.

He ain't just gifted with intelligence but he knows he is THAT good looking and attractive.

"And what does this Amurta student doing in front of my house at this hour?" His arms slowly sliding to his pocket to get his keys. Tone monotone before skimming to the key for his door.

"I'm here for Kaveh." You took a grip on the handle of your case.

He opened the door and only answered 'hm.' Uninterested. He shifted his gaze at you leaned his toned body against the frame of the door.

"Did he somehow invite you here?"

You nodded and met his gaze before breaking it off.

"We both agreed to meet here."

"I assume it's for your research. Well, come inside. Don't want Kaveh to nag at me for not entertaining his visitor."

You came inside shortly following him. Upon entering, you couldn't help but to scan the house. There's nothing special to mention aside the paper works piled up in a table and scraps of paper under a desk and certain apparatuses that is used for measuring you assumed. It seemed to be Kaveh's side of table that it has be him, it was chaotic.

Closing the door, you immediately sat and primed yourself up in an not so familiar place. Alhaitham sat at the sofa just in front of you and observed you from head to toe before he inhaled. His back relaxed against the back rest of the sofa.

"So... out of all the possible participants you could've chose, you really picked him?"

"I don't see a problem a problem with him being my participant."

"And why is that?"

"It's my research, I get to choose who I want to be my participants."

He wasn't so sure if you were insulted by his questions but it did amuse him by the way you answered him directly with a soft tone.

"Sadly, he's not here."

"Seems so."

Both of your eyes now met and neither of you wanted to break it off. Seems like you already knew how bad your chemistry will be with him by just this interaction. Silence surrounded the room, not a single flinch from neither of you but the eye contact creating this tension between you and the scribe was barely tolerable that you wanted to break free from the contact.

But he didn't show any hesitancy to break off the connection of your gazes, in fact he would want admit he would see this as competition. It wasn't evident in his face but the way he cocked his head slightly to one side just showed how much of cunning asshole he is but it was attractive in a way, of course you couldn't deny it. Being cunning just adds to the list of attributes that just makes him attractive.

Uh well, yeah…

In return, you gave him a soft doe-look and a small smile. The scribe only gave you a small smile in return. Come to think of it, if waiting for Kaveh to return would be a waste of time for you and precious research then why not make him your first research?

"Say, considering that my friend is not here, how about you take his place instead?"

He raised his brow and crossed his arms. "Friend? and here I was thinking that you were dating. But he did mention a close friend." he scoffed.

"Hmm, people often think we’re dating but we’re not." you scoffed and let out a single giggle. “Kaveh’s good looking himself.”

"You're saying you're not good looking then?"

You gazed at him, smile wearing off before you pressed your lips together. "I didn't say anything."

You pressed your legs together as your hands clenched the hem line of your skirt. You lowered your gaze and tried to divert the topic. Your eyes went to look at your small briefcase.

With you little movements, he finds himself smiling at just how fragile yet collected at the same time you looked like. How you pressed those lips of yours that has the tiniest shine probably from your lip balm and the little tint of color pressed unto your plump lips.

'Cherry red? No probably that Tangerine wine... impossible. Peony red? Champagne pink? Too strong. Dewy peach? What else did I see from the market that sold those kinds of...balms'

"Ah, as I proposed a while ago, you can take Kaveh's spot." You paused.

He gave you a look to continue by giving you a small nod.

"It's about these fungi that out of nowhere grew at the rainforests of Sumeru. It was estimated to have grown two to four months ago where the weather condition was harsh yet perfect for cultivating these fungi to grow..." you got up to get your briefcase and showed him a glass box where the specimen of the fungi was stored.

You showed him the glass box before you slowly and carefully dragged one of the chairs to give the box a better and closer view to him and sat properly with an excited look. The expression you made just made him smile in the back of his head.

Just the way your breasts that hugged your white turtleneck sweater coordinated with every movement you made and how your thighs look plush as you sat at such...rather unconscious provocative manner. There's so much about you that keeps him wondering about you. What would such a girl, an Amurta student like you, keep this Scribe fixated at you. You were just, innocently charming that he couldn’t resist the thought of him doing--

‘What am I thinking, this is wrong’

"As you can see, it does look like a-"

"Sea Ganoderma, local from Inazuma. But the color is different, yes." He pulled the chair you were sitting just enough to be close to him, not breaking his gaze from you. Attentive.

"I can't see if you move your hands much. Stay still."

Now again, both of your gazes have started its connection again only this time it was closer. The gazing and whatever the fuck it was with your eyes and his eyes, it gave pause and silenced the whole room. The sudden closeness has made you tense a bit that you were taken a back.

"Okay?" He looked at your surprised, lost, and doe eyed look that made you look innocent.

You responded with a small nod and a sheepish tone. “’Kay,” a tint blush forming in your cheeks.

He didn’t move to his usual position. He stayed like that exactly and gave you a signal to continue with your details by him giving you a small nod. At first, you were hesitant considering the space he ate up just to get a closer look to you and the box you had. But you didn’t have to waste time so you went on with your detailing.

You described to him its delicious scent despite having a peculiar anatomy. You showed him your paper works as to the recorded data of how it also affected the Sumeru roses you had in your room.

“You conduct laboratory observations in your room?”

“What? the biology laboratory is already packed with students with their specimens. It might affect mine as well.”

“And you think that your room couldn’t affect the variables then? Hm?”

Furrowing your brows, you scoffed. He was indeed correct. The location was indeed part of the variables to be considered that might affect the status of your fungus. That was one of matters that you missed out and it somehow annoyed as out of the person that could’ve corrected you, it would be him.

“Seems like you missed some points to be noted for your research then, Miss Y/N?”

You stood up, randomly gave him the box, and took your briefcase to get to concoction you prepared. You didn’t see any need of explaining the details to him, seems like he already knows your stuff. You showed two him two test tubes with the same length of the concoction. Alhaitham observed you.

Your back facing him as you tend your mixture into another separate glasses. His right-hand skimming through the edges of the box, fingers delicately feeling the edges and surface of the box and not taking his eyes off you. There again, his curiosity taking over with just the sight of you that it somehow intrigued and annoyed him. He slowly opened the box and there he smelled the pungent smell of something gourmand and flowery and yet something of earthy at the same time.

He couldn’t understand what smell it was but somehow it was lulling him.

The silence slowly rang your ears and the pressure between the time and how quiet the room is made you feel heavy. You felt yourself jittery that after a while of his presence and darting eyes from behind you. The night was windy and you can only hear the slow chimes of the door charm and the gentle tings and tacks of the glass. A few moments have passed, you can only hear him grunt and clearing his throat.

“Is something the matter?” You looked at him only to find him resting his left hand to the hand rest of the sofa, palms covering his face whilst his right hand toying the box and seems to play with the lid of the box.

“How’s the smell?” You took each test tubes and went over to him, sitting at the same seat you were just in front of him and took a deep breath. “Now all you have to do it drink this concoction with me if there are any notable changed it will happen to a person who ingested it. Don’t worry, like I said you’ll be drinking—”

“Are you serious? This already makes my head ache, the smell. You think I’ll drink that?”

“You’re drinking it with me. I only need the data.”

He looked at you, his brow raising. “What makes you think I’m going to drink that.”

You looked away, not knowing what are the possibilities too. If you ever come up with using the data of plants, he’ll find an argument just to cease your experiment. You held unto your test tubes and faced him. Doe eyes showing desperation and pleading.

“Please, Alhaitham. I’ll do whatever you want. I just need the data…” You didn’t care at this point, you’re never the type to agree to doing whatever the person wants but if it’s Alhaitham, well there would be no problem at all. “Please?”

Looking at your little parade of innocence and desperation, he couldn’t help but to hate himself by letting his inner thoughts run through his system. The way you held the test tubes on each hand of yours enthusiastically a while ago and how you lowered it down to rest to your thigh. How your thumb caressed the glass surface, how your lips pressed before biting your lower lips in frustration causing it to darken its color. Your eyes asking for an answer, and voice soft. You looking so irresistibly delicious to pounce at.

Just you, being this little sweet lamb that he couldn’t just resist.

“Please, Alhaitham. Please?”

Fuck. Fuck is happening to me?

“Fuck this.” He cursed under his raspy breath, clearing his throat yet his brows furrowed. Before he adjusts himself in his seat by leaning back and bucking his hips up. “Look, at least if there is any possibility that we will die, at least I die with you and your silly little experiments for your silly little research. Got it, you silly girl?"

The enthusiasm back once again in your face. You smiled at him and nodded a couple of times. You instructed him for a few reminders to take note. The two lines that were labeled in each glass signified the amount of mixture was to be ingested.

In a count of 3 you both drank together. The smell of the concoction was lessened however its scent note was still there. Both of you didn’t move, your eyes focusing on the paper and your pen. Alhaitham on the other hand is busy with minding his books.

A few moments have passed a slow tingling heat started to surge in your body. The heat surging inside your body was slow yet everywhere. At first you thought it was just your sweater so did not pay no mind however as time passed, you realized that it starting to get warm and hot. It was making your head dizzy and sweat. You tried to cool yourself by fanning with your hands.

It was a cold evening, a reason why you wore your turtleneck to warm you up yet it seems that it's getting a little hotter. You started to fan yourself with your palms. From fanning yourself to using the loose cloth of your polo neck to fan your chest loosen up. Everything happening right now wasn't anything you expected to be.

Ways... ways... ways... ways to distract myself... what is this? I need to distract myself? Is it too hot here?

You suddenly remembered the paper you were supposed to fill with the initial observation of the first dose of the concoction. Upon looking at it, you felt lightheaded and almost felt like you were slowly floating.

While you were drafting random bullshit in your paper, Alhaitham on the other end felt the same sensation in your body. He was either thinking it was the effect of the pungent scent of the fungus or the mixture you just gave him. His head started to spin and a surge of heat in his body roamed his system. A storm inside him that just felt that it would never end nor calm down. He needed to compose himself, a simple concoction cannot just simply make him feel bizarre.

Alhaitham wanting to stop the chaos suddenly stood up to find his headphones. At times, he would resort to just playing music in his headphones to block noise or just randomly wear it to make it seem that he's does not want to interact.

He just wanted to have and wear it yet his body betrayed him the moment he stood up. His eyes slowly blurring and his legs felt no life made him weak. Just right after passing by after you, he fumbled. Tripping just the moment he passed at the table, falling. A few of your apparatuses falling included some of the unloaded test-tubes and a single tube with viscous and thick liquid inside spilled at his chest, left arm, and the crotch part of his pants.

"Archons…” he whispered, feeling a pang of defeat as he sat at the floor and tried to wipe the excess mixture.

The commotion startled you as you started to fill up the details of the paper. You quickly took action and assisted the young man. Taking a handkerchief from your pocket of your skirt you started to wipe the mess on his chest.

He was wearing his usual dark off-coat that hugged his chest. You couldn't help to get distracted at the little intricate gem that was in his sternum.

Slowly... slowly... you were being lulled again. Like an effective hypnosis it seemed like you were in a haze that you couldn't understand. You couldn't even control your body. The heat was all over your body.

The way you started to simply just mess up instead of cleaning it was a sign that the aphrodisiac took over your senses. You were so distracted and helpless. Everything about this man in front of you was like a need and a want of your body and soul.

Alhaitham felt the same.

The tension, the spark, the need, the hunger to just own you was evident yet he didn't want to be consumed by it. There was this resistance of him and the more he forced to neglect the feeling, the stronger the urge wave his body.

He felt weak and he didn't like that. It was too much yet you kept fueling the fire that he was suppressing. At this very moment, he wanted to breed and own you. A mixture of aggression and lust now surging.

"Haitham..." you dragged a fingertip to his intricate gem that was at his sternum and pressed your thighs as you dragged, fingertips feeling the shape of his gem. It made him hitch his breath, an irregular breath and a painful erection as he got indulged by your little play.

“Get up.”

No response.

“Y/N…”

“I should’ve known, this was an aphrodisiac. A strong one—Fuck, Y/N.” He threw his head as he saw you press your pretty lips against his gem, pecking it before looking at him with doe-fuck-me-till-i-break eyes.

“Haitham…”

“Get up, Y/N…” his voice croaked “Or else we’re going to have to fuck the whole night.” He cupped your cheek, feeling the heat of your skin.

“Haitham, too hot…” you lowered your jacket until it reached your elbow, exposing the tight turtleneck top you wore that happily hugged your mounds and figure. Innocently provoking him. "...hot" you murmured and held his hand that cupped your cheek. Now the back of his hand slimy with the mixture and looking back at him with lust-heart eyes.

"Yeah, you and I won't be going to class tomorrow."

And just like that?

Just like that. It was enough to push him to the edge.

Sloppy kisses, hitched and panting breathes, desperate rutting, and slapping of skins reverberated his whole room. There was only one thing on both of your minds: to fuck.

"H-Haitham~!"

To fuck until you couldn't do it anymore. Breed and fill you up to the brim until his seed spilled out your tired plush pussy.

Your moans were getting louder and louder as you felt another succession of orgasm reaching to you. A hollow feeling started to build up inside you and his cockhead adding up to the climatic feeling as he abused your soft spongy cervix, desperately wanting to push it further and deeper.

Alhaitham unconsciously made people feel small without doing nothing. It was probably his reputation and how cunning he is, he had his ways just to get what he wants.And now definitely, he made you feel small. His length overwhelming you and your insides. The way it made you feel stuffed and full inside and how he's just towering above you. Hands clasped on your ass and carried your weight was he pressed you against the wall and rutted violently.

He kept his mouth busy by marking your chest and neck and desperately sucked on your peaks. He felt the need to breed you and fill you up with his cum.

The constant hitting of your cervix and the rough ministration made you squirm and groan. Your walls pressuring and pressing tightly against his cock signaled him that you were close. Your legs now wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. He can feel how wet your spongy walls.

"Gonna cum... Ah~! Haitham! Gonna cum-"

"Yeah? Gonna cum again?" He chuckled. "Fuck-- you're getting too loud- Mhn~!" He pressed against yours as he maintained his pace, not changing it. He felt that he was getting near too and that excited him.

Your walls spasmed and legs trembled as you reached your climax, Alhaitham chucked as he changed his pace before he pulled out making you squirt from the intense punishing of your cunt.

"Haitham—" you hitched your breath, heart beating fast as you squirted again. Alhaitham looked down as he watched you make a mess and that just made him hard enough and drive him to make your squirt again. He violently pushed his cock again inside and started to rut and roughly pulling it out making you buck your hips up and squirt again.

"Haitham please~ oh~!"

a slower one so you could have your moment before he continued his pursuit to seek his high. He changed his pace again, a faster one. A rough and fast one.

His tip now teasing your spot that made you tremble again. His cock made your pussy sing for a couple of times now. He had been breeding your pussy since and the both of you couldn't have enough, a never-ending high and feeling of wanting to release.

"Fuck, gonna fill you up-" he panted, rested his forehead against yours, making him watch the little show: your pussy eating him whole and forming a little bump as he entered. "Your pussy's the best!"

With one final thrust, he came inside you. Rutting and violently spasming as he filled your abused hole the 4th time tonight.

Time:10:30 PM

Recorded data (written): none

Recorded through Kamera data: none, battery level at 90 percent.

It was the fifth time tonight. Now he's fucking you from behind, your chest and the side of your face pressed against the wall as well as both of your palms. Alhaitham drilling his thick and veiny cock inside your spongy and abused walls. Your moans are getting louder again and he was fascinated the way you just came over and over because of his cock. You kept soaking and drenching his dick with your pussy juice. It started to make sloppy noises whenever he pushed in and out. You started to cream again, forming a ring on the base of his cock.

"You feel so good, Alhaitham~!" You moaned, feeling his tight grip against your beautiful hips and created crescent marks as he slammed his cock back and forth.

"Fuuuck this pussy is mine-- fuck fuck fuck--" he groaned, he took his left arm and wrapped his left palm to your neck and slowly pulled it making you arch your back and head hitting his shoulder. He slowly guided his palm that wrapped your neck to your jaw and continuously rutted. Now you can clearly hear his groans and panting.

He hammered his cockhead again and felt your spongy and plush cervix making him push his cock deeper as he came inside you again. He covered your cervix with his thick cum.

Time: 12:50 AM

Recorded data (written): none

Recorded data through kamera: Data recorded, battery level at 75 percent

"Didn't realize you had your kamera with you." He chuckled turning the camera on as he gazed at your body. Tired and a mess, cum dripping out from both of your pussy and ass hole. Saying that he liked it was an understatement, he loved it and seeing the mess you both made him harder. He realized that the slimy juice that it was a lubricant and the purpose of this fungi was an overall aphrodisiac with versatility.

"Haitham..." You called out his name, hoarse and small. You slowly opened your legs and revealed your aching and puffed cunt wanting for more. Alhaitham on the other hand set the kamera up just enough to get an angle of you and him in the frame together.

"Just for the data." He sighed, hoovering on top of you and pressing his lips against yours. Hands roaming around your waist before he positioned his cock again and decided teasing you. His cockhead teasing your puffy and abused entrance before he guided his length to your clit and gently pressed his head.

The pressure made you squirm and groan from his ministration. A few taps of his cockhead to your clit and a few pumping of his dick before he slowly reached out for your nape and raised it. Your weak body being supported by your wobbly elbows and your forehead against his.

"Put it in…" you hissed at him and brows furrowing.

"Not so polite are we?" Slowly inserted half his length making the excitement in your stomach rise up again and his hips buckle. "Say it, princess."

"Please put it in, please please please~" you plead with look of longing.

With a smirk, Alhaitham slowly pushed his cock inside you and guided his hand that held your nape and lowered it for you to watch him get inside you. He pushed until his head was greeted by your cervix but oh, he didn't stop there.

He slowly pushed further making you moan from the pressure of wanting to push further.

"Haitham--too deep~! Ahh~!"

Alhaitham couldn't resist to smirk while he looked at your eyes roll back and legs quivering. You just got this man hooked with your pussy and beauty.

"Cumming already?" he teased as he started to move his hips in a piston like pace.

Time: 3:33 AM

Recorded data(written): none

Recorded data through Kamera: Data recorded, battery level at 11%

"Too tired, Haitham…" you whined.

You took a pause for a moment as you felt your legs wobble and strain a pain from grinding him. Him buried deep in your ass wasn't on the menu but who would've thought that you both

would enjoy it. You rested your palms on both of his thighs and rested your back against his hard chest and took another deep breath as you started to bounce on his dick again. It was slow yet deep, something that made Alhaitham groan and hiss.

"I know, baby…" he chuckled as he saw you in action again. "…just can't get enough of you."

Talk about having three of your holes stretched out in a single night. You couldn't count how many times have he came inside your pussy and mouth and now he just discovered about the pleasure of having his cock buried deep inside your ass.

"So goood~ So deep~!" you whined, biting your lower lip and continued to bounce on his dick. It was sloppy and it was thanks to his cum and the lube combined together and oh, he loved to see the his cum and the lube together forming strings in your ass cheeks and asshole and making sloppy and erotic sounds each time you bounced on it.

He noticed your bouncing started to slow down until you stopped again, making him chuckle. He kissed your shoulder blade and whispered "Sofa."

Alhaitham helped you stand up and walked towards the sofa where you faced the arm of the sofa and rested your arms on it.

"Ass up," Alhaitham took his cock and slowly pushed it inside your ass again making you moan from stretching your whole with his size. "So b-big~" You rolled your eyes as he let a final push to burry it deep.

A sting left your right ass cheek when he slapped it and groping both cheeks, slowly making a move again. It started slow until it was fast and deep. Alhaitham took both of your arms and held it from behind, penetrating deeper and making you bend over forward.

Balls slapping against your clit making you moan louder. You were so lulled by his dick you didn't even realize that you have classes today. Same goes to Alhaitham and he could feel his climax reaching as well and with one final push deep, he came inside you.

Time: 6:30 AM

Recorded data(written): none

Recorded data through Kamera: none, kamera has shut down. battery at 0%.

"Thank the fucking Archons I have bought my keys-" Kaveh scanned his pocket to check if his keys were really in his pocket which of course is there. He hurriedly scanned the keys.

"Key key key- Archons where the fuck is that key!"

The little commotion just outside Alhaithams abode made the scribe awake. He was a light sleeper, it was enough to awake him since he knew this voice and tone so well it annoyed him early in the morning. Alhaitham was about to rise when he heard your small groans making him look at his chest.

The little commotion just outside Alhaitham's abode made the scribe awake. He was a light sleeper, it was enough to awake him since he knew this voice and tone so well it annoyed him early in the morning. Alhaitham was about to rise when he heard your small groans making him look at his chest.

There you were sleeping. Your once peaceful face grunted when Kaveh shouted another curse and that hit Alhaitham.'

'We fucked.' he said into himself. His brain was somewhat still foggy from last night and he could feel his worn out muscles. He heaved a sigh as to trying to figure what to do with you still sleeping while his roommate is already making his head hurt from his cursing and loud voice. Fragments of what happened last night made him groan especially when he saw the Kamera faced at them. Did it bother him? Well, he simply ignored it. He knew it was down but he knew it recorded some. Probably gonna check it out later.

"We're late for class," he whispered and gently stood up when you were awoken from his movements and the noise Kaveh made. Alhaitham didn't move another muscle and hoped you would just sleep but turns out you were trying to keep yourself awake by rubbing your eyes when you faced him.

"Alhai…" you then lowered your gaze and finally realized that you were in his bed NAKED. "…tham."

"It's okay, you should lie down and rest." he looked at your face before scanning your body. Bruises, marks, flushed face, and…

"my body hurts." you whispered, feeling a bit conscious when he started to scan your body. You covered it with his blanket and looked away.

…sore body. Alhaitham hid a somewhat victorious ghost smile and sat on the edge of the bed, the blanket barely covering his waist. His back was facing you and you noticed

The red marks on his back that somehow looked like a…

"Scratch?" you whispered again with your soft hoarse voice. Alhaitham heard, his right arm reaching his back before facing you. "I thought it was implied that Akademiya students shouldn't have long nails?" he looked at your fingers to see an opal-colored nail polish with your nails with just the right length and round shape which you quickly hid from him.

He looked at your figure again making him gaze at you intently, eyes piercing before he looked away and faced the wall. He palmed his face when he realized his morning wood is up and is in dire need of attention. Morning woods are normal to him every morning but this?

He shrugged off the want to feel your pussy walls in him again but Archons it did want him to feel that again. He stood up and got his brief and boxers and wore it. He took a new off coat from his cabinet and handed it over to you which you accepted. "Or would you like a sweatshirt instead?"

"This is already fine, thank you." you couldn't look at him, he was barely dressed and his body is too beautiful and distracting, stimulating you to think about irrational and unholy thoughts. Pray the archons none of them actually reads your mind.

You took the well folded and newly laundered cloth and looked at it. Your mind was still hazy and foggy making Alhaitham think you actually didn't know how to wear them. He took a sweatshirt from his cabinet and sat beside you.

"Seems like you forgot how to wear clothes I suppose."

"No…"

He didn't listen, he took his sweatshirt. "Get dressed, we're eating breakfast."

As much as you wanted to, you just felt that your body was that tired and just gave him a helpless look. "Haitham… need help. I feel sore."

Another sigh, Alhaitham took the blanket and revealed your body again. Plush thighs with marks, beautiful mounds with marks on your under boobs and some on your waist. Your neck and color bones decorated with his marks. Seems like he enjoyed his self quite too much last night he admitted. He gulped and helped you get clothed.

He then gazed at you.

"Don't look at me like that. Those eyes of yours" clenching his jaw, he looked at you again with piercing gaze.

"Look at you like?"

He came closer to you, gently wrapping his one arm all over your waist and pulling you close to him while he rested his back on the bed frame. He left kisses again on each mark he left on your neck and gently raised his sweatshirt you wore.

You softly whimpered from his actions, eyes closed and hands wrapped on his neck. Just as about he was about to leave another mark…

"Alhaitham open the fucking door, I have something to get!" Kaveh's frustrated voice and loud knocks made you hitch your breath. "Alhaitham! Damn it you Scribe! open!"

"Haitham…" You looked at him but he doesn't seem to mind Kaveh's wanting to break the door. He nibbled on your left nipple and gropped on your right breast while he looked at you. He started to suck on in it slowly and closed his eyes, alternating his sucking from your left nipple to your right.

Kaveh's knocks were getting loud and you were already telling Alhaitham that you should hide but oh, Alhaitham has better plans.

"Dude open the door, Archons!"

Alhaitham stood up and wore his shorts before he gently carried you like a bride as he went to the door. Truth is, you didn't know what Alhaitham's plan was. All he did was give you his stoic look before smiling devilishly while he draped you with his coat. You wrapped your arms around his neck to hold onto him.

Alhaitham finally opened the door.

"Thank Archons you actually opened-"

Kaveh's voice dropped as what he saw. Alhaitham gave him his usual stoic face as he gave you a nudge. You slowly looked at Kaveh with a flushed and embarrassed look.

"Come in." Alhaitham spoke. "Best not to leave your keys behind again." The sarcastic remark from Alhaitham dripping all over his tone.

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