#marriage mentioned!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[tomdayaland]

"The big news this week is a good example of just such an opportunity for me - are they/aren’t they engaged?

Zendaya wearing a ring and Tom nowhere to be seen adding to the intrigue.

The engagement has now been confirmed and why I am writing about it here but without adding anything new and juicy like a date, venue, guest list…

Down the years, I have been showered with parenthood praise even though much of it has been fluke and happenstance more than any finely honed plan. And this I can demonstrate now by contrasting the different approaches of father and son to proposing marriage.

Tom, as you know by now was very incredibly well prepared.

He had purchased a ring.

He had spoken with her father and gained permission to propose to his daughter.

Tom had everything planned out…

When, where, how, what to say, what to wear…

I on the other hand was woefully ill-prepared, almost as though I wasn’t taking it seriously.

(...) For most blokes, the stress of purchasing an engagement ring is being able to afford it. I suspect that this was the least of Tom’s worries, more concerned with the stone, it's size and clarity, its housing, which jeweller

(...) which brings me to the newly engaged couple.

I do fret that their combined stardom will amplify their spotlight and the commensurate demands on them and yet they continually confound me by handling everything with aplomb.

And even though show-business is a messy place for relationships and particularly so for famous couples as they crash and burn in public and are too numerous to mention, with us an example, with Nikki helming this family and my ‘wisdom’ on tap and a study in getting things mostly wrong and yet somehow right at the same time, I am completely confident they will make a successful union."

Dom's blog about Tomdaya's engagement. 🥺

[crookedteethed]

ᡣ𐭩 who do you love? . • ° 　 .　 *　: r. cameron

synopsis -- mistress! reader goes bonkers and films a surprise video for Rafe and his wife's anniversary. ۶ৎ

warnings -- 18+-mdni, smut (unprotected p i v), breeding kink, video voyeurism, infidelity, mention of alcohol usage, age gap, cursing, pussy whipped! rafe, homegirl is... yeah

other woman masterlist |taglist | based on this ask | wc: 1.7k

You knew exactly what you were doing when you typed her name into Facebook's search bar. Your fingers moved with purpose, guided by an obsession you couldn't shake.

There it was - Rafe's wife's profile, and right at the top, exactly what you'd been hunting for: a fresh post celebrating their decade of marriage, complete with a photo from their younger days when their love still seemed pure and untainted. You stared at their beaming faces, letting the bitterness wash over you.

Each scroll feels like turning a knife in your own heart, but you can't stop.

Their life unfolds before you like some twisted fairy tale: Rafe teaching their daughter to ride a bike, their annual trips to the Maldives, their matching Christmas sweaters with those damn Dobermans.

And her—always her—wearing that diamond tennis bracelet you once saw in his browser history, claiming the life that should have been yours.

This should be me, the thought burns like acid.

Your fingers hover over a photo of their Mediterranean cruise, her perfectly manicured hand resting on his chest, that massive engagement ring catching the sunset.

She has everything: the weekend brunches at that fancy place downtown, the Range Rover you've seen in their driveway, the three beautiful children with his eyes, the garden parties you watch from afar, and him—God, especially him.

The life that slipped through your fingers because of timing and trust funds. She had everything you didn't: old money, country club connections, and most crucially—age.

While you were still learning to drive, she was already the perfect socialite, the appropriate choice for a man of Rafe's standing. The Seventeen-year age gap between you and Rafe might as well have been an ocean—one that she had already crossed long before you even learned to swim.

Sometimes you wonder if that's what drew him to you in the first place: your youth, your naivety, everything that made you so different from her. Everything that ultimately made you impossible.

Your wine glass is empty again. When did that happen?

A tear escaped your eye as jealousy carved deeper into your chest, the pain spreading until you could barely breathe. Your trembling fingers found your phone, muscle memory still remembering his number after all these years. You knew it was wrong—God, you knew—but you pressed call anyway.

One ring. Two rings. Your heart threatened to burst.

"Hello?" His voice, still so familiar, sent electricity through your body.

"I—" your voice cracked, "I need to see you, Rafe. Please. I can't… I can't stop thinking about you, and I'm so alone tonight. Please come over, I need you."

The silence that followed felt eternal—like light years away, stretching between your world and his, filled with everything unsaid.

You could picture him there, standing in his perfect house with his perfect family just rooms away, probably running his fingers through his hair the way he always did when he was conflicted.

Your heart hammered against your ribs as you heard him move, presumably stepping outside or into his study. Then came that familiar sound—the slow exhale through his nose that you remembered from countless late nights together, when difficult decisions hung in the air between you.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low, rough with something that might have been regret or desire or both: "I'm on my way."

Three simple words that shattered whatever remained of your resolve. You ended the call before he could change his mind, before reality could catch up to either of you, before guilt could claw its way back in.

Your hands shook as you set the phone down, knowing that in fifteen minutes—twenty at most—you'd hear his car in your driveway, and everything would change again.

When he steps through your door, the world narrows to just this: his loosened tie, your trembling hands, the soft thud as his back hits the wall. "We shouldn't," he whispers, even as his fingers dig into your hips, even as he pulls you closer.

You silence his protest with a kiss that tastes like regret and wanting, knowing tomorrow will bring guilt but tonight—tonight belongs to muscle memory and bad decisions.

Your hands roam greedily over each other, ripping clothes away with primal urgency. Your mouths hungrily devour one another, teeth nipping at lips as you guide him to the bedroom. Your heart races with desire and anticipation, knowing what awaits in the heat of passion.

The phone you carefully propped against the lamp earlier blinks silently in the darkness, its camera catching everything. You position him perfectly in its view, letting him think it's just desire guiding your movements.

"God, I've missed you," he breathes against your collar bone, completely unaware that every word, every moan, every mistake is being captured. You almost feel guilty—almost.

Then you think of her Facebook shrine to their perfect marriage, and something shifts inside you—guilt crystallizing into purpose.

Your phone keeps recording in the darkness, anticipating to capture every betrayal, every whispered confession.

Soon, her perfectly filtered life won't matter anymore. Soon, you'll have something far more precious than any photograph: Rafe—cornered, desperate, and finally yours.

Without hesitation, you shoved Rafe onto your queen size bed. Straddling his naked body, you disregarded any notion of foreplay.

As much as you craved the feeling of his tongue on your clit or his thick fingers probing you, all that mattered was having Rafe's cock buried in your cunt.

"Damn, you weren't kidding. You really do need me," Rafe smirked as his palm immediately found its way to your dripping core, but to your dismay was swatted away.

With a seductive grin, cooed in your sweet, high-pitched voice that made Rafe's brain mush. "Un huh, now be a good boy and let me take care of myself," you purred, guiding his rock-hard cock to the entrance of your wetness.

"Are you going to let me do that?" Your tone was condescending, but it only fueled the intense desire between you both, and because Rafe's mind turned to mush the moment you said you needed him, he nodded, totally pussy whipped and enamored by you.

The sharp gasp that escaped both of your lips was matched only by the intensity of your desire.

Slowly, you sank down onto Rafe's throbbing cock, savoring the feeling of him stretching you just as he always did.

"You're so tight, baby," he groaned out, his voice dripping with lust.

As you remembered the phone set up hidden by your side table lamp, a mischievous thought crossed your mind:

"Am I tighter than your wife?" you asked, already beginning to rock your hips on his length. Naturally, Rafe's hands found their way to your waist, not to guide you but to bring you closer to his lips.

"So much tighter, shit," he breathed out between hot kisses, with each agonizing slow rock.

"You're gonna leave her for me, huh?" you asked, face to face with Rafe, cradling his jaw to peck his lips. Slowly, you began to pick up the pace. 

Your rhythmic movements escalate into frenzied bouncing, his hard length molding perfectly to your slick walls, stretching you to the limit. You lift yourself up and press down on Rafe's chest for leverage, driving him deeper and harder into you

Rafe's eyes rolled back as you bounced harder, your pussy gripping him like a vice. "Fuck, I… I don't know," he groaned, his hips bucking up to meet your thrusts.

You leaned down, your breasts brushing against his chest as you whispered in his ear, "Come on, baby. Tell me you'll leave her. Tell me I'm the only one you want." Your walls clenched around him for emphasis, drawing a strangled moan from his lips.

"God, yes," Rafe panted, completely lost in the sensation of your tight heat enveloping him. "I'll leave her. You're all I want, fuck!"

Hearing those words sent a thrill through you. You began to bounce faster, slamming yourself down onto his thick cock with abandon. Your breasts bounced enticingly and Rafe reached up to cup them, pinching your nipples between his fingers.

"Say it again," you demanded breathlessly, grinding your hips in circles. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours, baby," Rafe panted, thrusting up to meet your movements. "All fucking yours."

You leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your tongue tangling with his as you continued to ride him relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with your shared moans of pleasure.

"Gonna cum for me?" you asked, clenching your walls around him. "Gonna fill me up? Gonna give me one of your babies?"

"Yeah, gonna stuff your sweet pussy with my hot load, fuck, I'm about to explode," Rafe moaned, his nails digging into your flesh, leaving red marks on your hips.

You reached down to rub tight circles on your clit, chasing your own release. "Me too, don't stop," you gasped.

With a few more forceful thrusts, you both toppled over the brink together, moaning in bliss as powerful waves of pleasure engulfed you. Rafe followed suit, releasing his hot and sticky load inside you, filling you up completely.

The afterglow lasts exactly thirty seconds before Rafe is already reaching for his clothes, his movements quick and efficient like this is just another business meeting wrapping up, breathing hasn't even steadied.

"I need to get back," he says, checking his watch. "We have dinner reservations at La Maison."

"Of course. The anniversary dinner." Your voice sounds hollow even to your own ears. "Rafe?" He pauses, shirt half-buttoned. "Did you mean any of it? What you said while we were…?"

He crosses the room, cups your face, and plants a soft kiss on your lips—the kind that feels like goodbye. Then he's gone, the front door clicking shut behind him.

You sit in the twisted sheets, his warmth already fading, listening to his car fade into the distance. Your hands shake as you reach for your phone and stop the recording. The email address you've had memorized for months appears in the recipient field without hesitation. You attach the video—forty-three minutes of undeniable truth—and watch the upload bar creep forward. In the subject line, you type five words that will demolish their perfect life: "Happy Anniversary, From Us Both."

Your finger hovers over 'send' for just a heartbeat before pressing down. Let her enjoy those reservation plans now.

Now he'll have to choose, you think, watching the loading bar reach 100%. And this time, he'll choose me.

a/n -- thanks for making it to the end, as always all likes comments, and reblogs keeps me motivated! 💕🫶🏾

taglist --

@rafestoothbrush @alexxavicry @trapistani @Hejsj @neslayuh @hotvampdragon @alyisdead @jelybely @elmolovesw33d @littlelamy @futuremrscameron @percysley @rrafeswhore

[angelfishe]

𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 || 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐔

<< yandere VIP genshin men x reader >>

Character : zhongli, childe, ayato

When you enter the squid game to pay off your debt, you didn't realize your gonna be playing a life and death game as well meeting some old faces

Warning : slight mention of non-con intimacy

( This is something i wip out in the middle of the night sorry if it's bad )

# ZHONGLI

the owner of the liyue cooperation, a multi billion company

- You were married to him but got divorce because how possessive he was, he wouldn't let you go anywhere without body guards saying this world is dangerous. You will be better with him and you feel trapped inside the marriage so you eventually divorce him.

- the reason why you were in the squid game was because after the divorce you were staying with your mother who got herself in debt. So you take multiple jobs to pay off the debt, until a business man approaches you offering for you to play a game to pay off your debt.

- you manage to survive until the marble game where your partner decides to betray you, you thought you were gonna die until the soldiers of the game drag you into a luxurious room and In front of you was a man wearing a gold reindeer mask, he took it off revealing it's your ex husband

reader : "zho- zhongli"

Zhongli : " I told you my love, this world is a dangerous place and you would be safe with me, you don't need to worry about anything"

He proceeds to hug you

Zhongli : "I pay off your mother's debt as long as you promised you'll be mine again"

# CHILDE

A VIP that decided to play the game for fun

- you met him during the game the red light and green light game, you find it oddly weird that he seems to be enjoying it and as well having fun not bothering people are dropping dead.

- you manage to get along with him as well learning about his past and family, he seems to be fond of his little brother Teucer. He odly seems to recognize you ,Unfortunately he decided to sacrifice himself for you to live in the marble game.

- during lights out, you were dragged by the guards towards somewhere, you were struggling thinking you would die without saying goodbye towards your family, but instead you were put in a bedroom with a man in a red and black suit wearing a gold jaguar mask, saying if you want to leave the game you have to serve him in a way.

??? : "I'm surprised you don't recognize me and remember me"

Reader : who are you exactly

Childe : ( he took off the mask ) "it's me childe sweet heart, during childhood you and I were best friends and I promised you to marry you, don't worry sweetheart you don't have to worry about anything anymore cause after this let's fulfill the promised and get married"

#AYATO

Head of the most prestigious clan in the country as well the head of the yashiro prefecture

- former master of yours, you were his servant as well childhood friend but unfortunately stop serving his family because your grandfather has fallen with an Illness, you have to take care of him 24/7 meaning you to stop serving him. He tried everything to convince you not to leave but you still left.

- unfortunately the hospital bill has gotten worse and you eventually found yourself drowning in debt, until you were eventually invited into the squid game, unaware he planned this to happen, he's actually been stalking you looking for an opportunity to bring you back in his arms.

- you were Carried away by the guards when no one wants to partner with you, and you land yourself and kneel in front of a man with a gold owl mask. And he grabs your chin to look him straight to the eye and you recognize who's under the mask.

Reader : "master kamisato"

Ayato : "A clever girl manages to recognize me, that's my ( reader ) always able to recognize me"

Reader : why are you doing here

Ayato : "isn't't it obvious for you, I've been waiting for this moment for years and finally you're mine"

[notapradagurl7]

Ties That Bind. Part One.

Terry RichmondBillionaire! x Black Fem! Plus Size/Reader.

Summary: On your boring day at work, you were reunited with the former Marine-turned-billionaire Terry Richmond the man you tutored in college, but he wasn't there for a meeting or investment but for a marriage proposal, to you. Little did you know there was more to him than you imagined.

Word Count: 3,292k

( Masterlist )

Warnings: 18+ smut, fluff, dark!Terry, MDNI!, arranged marriage, mention of burnout, stubborn reader, quick wedding, jealousy, Use of AAVE, consensual for both parties, mention of depression, oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, confession, violence, mention of a drunk man, mention of cutting family ties,

A/N: I want to do more mini-series for Terry instead of fics, hope enjoy this one! I'm so excited Don't forget to leave a like, comment & reblog to support, or you can always ask for a request Enjoy! ❤️(NOT inspired by fifty shades of gray)

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @satoruya @planetblaque

@playgurlxoxo @babybratzmaraj @becauseimswagman1

@superheroprincess22 @pocketsizedpanther @beenathembo @brattyfics

@hxneyclouds @yassbishimvintage

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky @euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @miguelspvssy @liatreads @kaylaahisthebestest- @tforpresz @uniqueoutlierblog

@dxddykenn @dpennedit @secretlifeoofmarpessa

@westside-rot @mymindisneverhere

@mind-somewhere-else

@kindofaintrovert @aquarising03

@5starr-staciii @pickuptruck01 @lady-olive-oil @23jammy @zillasvilla @yassbishimvintage

——————-

Your fingers tapped across the keyboard with your dark brown eyes glued to the computer screen, you sighed lowly with pure annoyance and couldn’t wait for this day to be over, your alarm on your phone buzzed twice for your lunch break. You stood up from your desk chair in the cubicle with your work besties, Kiana and Juno.

Kiana had a bright smile, her curly hair bouncing as she stood up. "Girl, you look like you need a day off. How about we hit that new café down the street?"

Juno chuckled, adjusting her glasses. "Or a happy hour. I vote for margaritas."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile. "You two know I can’t just leave work like that. I have deadlines, remember?"

Kiana waved a dismissive hand. "Deadlines are overrated. You’re seriously burnt out, and we both can see it. Just take a break!"

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed again. This time, it was a message from your mom, asking you to join her for a family reunion on Saturday.

But you had to decline since work was keeping you busy, when in reality you didn't want to see them right now, they would always ask if you had a man to catch or a husband yet.

It was so damn annoying.

"Ugh, fine. I will take a break, I’ll just be a responsible adult," you sighed, heading towards the door.

Grabbing your pink lunch bag, and stepped out with ease. You waved at the beautiful black women with their dress clothes and matching heels that clicked on their marble tile floors. They gave you hugs and smiles, delighted to see your face.

“Hey beautiful, you good?” Juno asked gently, her eyes on you.

“Eh, same day, same cubicle Juju. I’ve been okay, still standing, how about y'all?” You explained with a shoulder shrug.

“I’ve been alright, my cat had been going number 2 in the litterbox, its so fucking gross, but I love my baby Lilo” Kiana exclaimed with a lip pout.

“Already, has your cat been checked for that? I've been good lately,” Juno asked with her brow raising.

“Yes, but the doctor said everything is normal, but my cat is fine,”

The three of you have close since high school and college, kept in touch and ended up at same job, you typed and typed documents for your strict boss Kim. She was a bitch, and always said you did everything wrong. It was taking toll on your mental health, you endured travail to get where you needed to be.

But you needed more than a vacation from this workplace, maybe you thought your life was getting dull, no it wasn't you had a decent job, bitchy boss, money and great friends that loved and supported you.

Everyone had a different life and the same kind of life like yours, you're weren't alone.

Entering the roomy break room adorned with beige walls and the aroma of microwaved food, the three of you settled around the circular dark gray table to enjoy your lunch.

Thanking God in the depths of your mind that you’ve gotten a break from the mundane madness.

“I need to go on vacation,” You blurted out, your face resting in your palm.

“How about we all go on vacation? Our how about Brazil?” Kiana exclamined with her hands spread out.

The three of you laughed it off with shared stories and smiles, it was giving young some peace.

Until you heard that familiar deep voice of his, you rested your finger against your lips and listened carefully, “Wait, do y'all hear that?” you whispered to them.

“I-I’m s-sorry Mr. Richmond but what brings you here,” Leigh stuttered nervously.

“Yes, ma’am, I’m sorry to arrive here unannounced and without an appointment but I’m here to speak with one of your assistants,” Terry spoke cordially, his hands in front of him gently grabbing on his wrist.

You, Juno and Kiana peeked out of the break room door, your eyes widening at the striking sight before you. Terry was dressed in a black suit with the tie neatly tucked, speaking to your boss, Leigh.

Leigh stood there in awe by Terry, her mouth parted but no words came out, she could tell that he was a billionaire too.

She agreed to his inquiry, gesturing toward the conference room where he was to take a seat; Leigh eagerly flattered any affluent individual who could enhance her image.

Her brown skin glowed under the white fluorescent lights, and she wore a V-neck black dress with coordinating heels, while her blonde curls danced at her shoulders.

“Yes, who would you like to? Are you here for an investment or meeting?” Leigh asked him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh shit, it’s Terry from college! He still is fine as hell too, I remember him, he’s giving me this vibe, like silent but deadly,” Juno trailed off, smirking seductively.

Kiana’s head turned to Juno with a head shake, waving her off. “Girl, please, he’s definitely giving fifty shades of grey if it was written by a woman and had all black cast but better and I'm Ana,” She gushed with a giggle.

You were still silent from seeing Terry after all these years, he was fine as hell.

You recall Terry from your college days, where you tutored him in math. He visited you during each tutoring session.

It seems your efforts were worthwhile; he was intriguing and quite attractive, and he had also served as a Marine.

You didn't require his help for anything; you were a stubborn woman who valued your independence.

While you understood that Terry could indulge you and offer you his black credit cards, you wanted it to be you secretly. But you didn't want to be desperate.

“Hey, Y/N, didn't Terry have a big crush on you in college?” Kiana asked you in a curious tone.

You still didn't say anything as you tried to remember it. Mona waved a hand in front of your face and snapped her fingers twice, “Y/N, hey! You good?” she asked again.

“He did? He could have any woman that he wants now,” You said to them, shrugging your shoulders.

Juno placed her hands on your shoulders and faced you forward, “Don’t do that, you are smart, sexy as fuck, beautiful, and funny, your personality is amazing, I bet Terry still likes you too,” She sang playfully.

"Y/N! could meet in the conference room, please! With Terry!" Leigh shouted with a stren tone.

Juno and Kiana squealing, and jumping for joy with you. "Oh shit, it's you! I fucking knew it! Ahhhh!" Kiana squealed quietly, patting your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes at them, chuckling at them. "Relax, relax, ladies. We'll be shopping in Paris later,” you joked with a grin.

“You better mean that shit too, girl! The whole nine!” Juno yelled back, smiling like a villain.

You walked out of the break room with nervousness flowing through you, heading toward the conference room.

You pushed open the door and saw him standing behind the table in a black long sleeve tee shirt, matching pants and sneakers, gold Rolex watch on his wrist, glasses resting behind his face.

Terry turned around faced you with those green eyes of his that made your skin tingle.

Hey Y/N, how are you? It’s been a while,” he greeted you with a warm tone, his voice smooth like whiskey.

“Hey Terry, I've been better but it certainly has, I didn't expect you to be here,” You replied back, your voice still steady yet a little shaky.

“Neither did I, but I had to. There’s something important I need to discuss with you,” Terry admitted to you, stepping a bit closer.

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. “Important? Like… business important, or personal?”

“Personal, You might want to sit down for this,” he replied, a slight smirk dancing on his lips. “You might want to sit down for this.”

You sat down on the desk chair across from him, looking into his eyes.

Terry leaned forward, his expression serious. “Y/N, I know this is unexpected, but I want to propose something to you—something that could change both our lives.”

You blinked, feeling the weight of his words. “What do you mean?”

“I want to marry you, I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve thought about it for a long time. I want you as my wife, in every sense of the word.” he stated, his eyes locked onto yours.

“Marry me? Just like that? Be honest with me Terry,” You asked him, crossing your arms with a smirk.

Terry sighed, as he leaned against the wall, his expression a mix of frustration and vulnerability.

“It’s not just that I want to be with you, My father doesn’t think I can handle the business; he’s set on handing it over to my brother, Tristan,” he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

His shoulders slumped slightly, revealing the weight of his words.

“See, you can't fool me, Mr. Richmond, you said he was arrogant, irresponsible and a drunk asshole, wasting your parents’ money,” You recited in ‘duh’ tone while holding your fingers out to count. nodding with a soft hum.

Terry smiled and nodded at you; you understood him completely. You were both very familiar with each other.

“See? You know what I'm talking about, and you know what else my damn father said to me?” Terry asked in irritated tone, crossing his arms in frustration.

“He won't give that business to you unless you're married like himself right?” You guessed with a smirk, tilting your head to the side.

You’ve been facing some financial setbacks, obviously, you can see this marriage as a solution. With Terry, he can pay of off for everything, But you did feel the same way about Terry, you thought about it diligently.

“Mhm, yes I'll marry you, Terry Richmond. Where are the papers, I know you brought them and the officiant, always come prepared," You agreed with a mischievous grin, gently tugging at his collar.

“You know me so well, beautiful but you do know that we have to get married, have a wedding, invite our friends and families, the whole nine?” Terry asked with a clever tone, walking toward you.

You giggled with a nod, “Yes I do, I'm making sure that I know what I sign up for, we have to be smart about it. But still you were always so mysterious Terry, there may be more to you,” You reasoned with wit, your finger resting under your chin.

Terry brought out the marriage papers and the officiant from the room, the papers were signed, Terry stuffed them them neatly in the manilla folder.

Terry walked out of the conference room with you, your boss Leigh’s eyes nearly popped out of her socket, and your best friends cheered for you with glee.

“Hell yeah, that's our girl!” Kiana exclaimed with a grin, jumping up and down.

“And we're gonna be shopping in Paris and Rome, we as black women deserve everything! The gotdamn world as our own, created by us, for us!” Juno shouted with pride, nodding her head.

Juno was right about, black women deserved nothing the greatest not just the best, they deserved to be treated with respect and deserved to be treated like empresses, if they could create their own planet then they would do it in a heartbeat.

And just like that, you accepted the marriage proposal, and you quit your job. You didn't need it anymore, and your boss already pissed you off by making you work on the weekend twice.

——————

The next day, you moved in with Terry in a elegant suburban one-story home without a bunch of windows, since he remembered you telling him that you hated a house with too many windows, you liked your privacy.

You were still adjusting to the idea of living with Terry, the man who had once needed your help with math equations but now carried the weight of the world on his shoulders as a billionaire.

You had always admired his ambition; it had drawn you to him back in college. But now, as he stood in the kitchen, brewing coffee in a pair of sweatpants that clung to his toned body, you felt a spark of something deeper — a connection that ran beyond mere attraction.

"Want some?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder, his green eyes catching the morning light streaming through the window.

His voice was warm, inviting, and it sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You nodded, a smile forming on your lips. "Yeah, sure. I could use the caffeine."

As Terry prepared your coffee, you took a moment to absorb everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.

You had gone from a cubicle life, filled with monotony and a boss who barely recognized your worth, to living with a man who was not only powerful but also incredibly attentive.

"Y/N, You okay? You seem a bit lost in thought," Terry called, breaking you from your thoughts.

He handed you a steaming mug, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. “Thank you, Terry,”

“You're welcome, beautiful,”

You took a sip, savoring the rich flavor before answering. "I’m just...trying to wrap my head around all of this, this feels surreal." you gestured around the cozy kitchen filled with sunlight.

Terry leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, his expression shifting from playful to serious. "I know it’s a lot to take in, but I promise you, I wouldn’t have proposed if I didn’t mean it. This isn't just a business arrangement for me."

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. You could see the determination in his eyes, the deep-seated desire to protect and cherish you. It was a side of him that you had glimpsed in college but never fully appreciated until now.

"I believe you, but what if this doesn’t work out? What if we end up hating each other?" you replied softly, your heart racing.

Terry stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. "I refuse to let that happen. I want to build something real with you. I’ve seen the darkness in this world, and I don’t want to face it alone. I want you by my side."

His vulnerability caught you off guard. You had only ever known the confident, charming Terry, but there was a depth to him that made your heart ache for him.

You wanted to know his secrets, the burdens he carried, the demons that haunted him.

"Tell me about your family, What’s your relationship with your brother like?" you urged, wanting to peel back the layers of this man who had captivated you since your college days.

Terry sighed, his expression turning pensive. "Tristan is… complicated. He was always the favorite, the golden child. My father believes he can carry on the family legacy better than I can. It’s strained our relationship. And then there’s my mother…she’s caught in the middle, trying to keep the peace."

You could sense the pain behind his words. It was a familiar struggle, one that many black families faced — the weight of expectations, the pressure to succeed, the fear of disappointment.

"I’m sorry, you don’t have to feel like you’re alone in this." you whispered, reaching out to touch his arm.

Terry looked down at your hand, then back at you. There was a flicker of something — hope, perhaps? — that danced in his eyes. "That’s exactly why I want you with me. You understand what it means to fight for your place in this world."

You smiled softly. "I do. And I’m here for it, all of it. Just promise me that we’ll communicate through the tough times."

"Always," he vowed, his voice low and sincere. You leaned in gradually and kissed his him passionately, his lush lips were soft.

You would still need to confront both his family and yours, and you hadn't even informed them that you were married to a billionaire whom you taught in college.

“I haven’t told my family about this marriage yet, and I never told them that I taught you in college, they’re gonna brag and try to take credit for it, or make themselves look good,” you sighed lowly, setting your cup down on the counter.

And in your family's minds, they would see you as the black sheep and golden child, now that you had money, you would be a scapegoat but you knew that Terry wouldn't have anyone to do that to you.

You had to cut off your family for being disrespectful and manipulative, once you moved out and lived with your best friends, you felt free for the first time.

Your mental health was bad at that point, You could finally breathe.

Terry’s face softened at you, “Y/N, you deserve to be celebrated, not criticized. If they can’t see that, then they don’t deserve a place in your life,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring.

Your heart swelled at his words. It was comforting to know that you had someone who understood your struggles and was willing to stand by you.

You’d always seen Terry as a protector, and now he was offering you more than just a partnership; he was offering you a chance to redefine your life on your own terms.

“I appreciate that, Terry. You really don’t know how much that means to me,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion.

He stepped even closer, his eyes searching yours for something unspoken. “I do know, Y/N. I’ve been through my own battles, and I’ve learned that the people who truly matter are the ones who lift you up, not bring you down.”

As the mornings turned into days, you found comfort in the mundane moments spent in Terry’s home. You made the decisions on the decor and colors for the wedding, the date was set, you called your friends and they were squealing again.

You took turns cooking dinner, watched movies on lazy Sundays, and even argued over the best way to load the dishwasher. It was simple yet beautiful, and you cherished every second of it.

You had to prepare yourself for the aftermath of this wedding, you were happy to spend the rest of your life with Terry but you didn't know what else lay ahead.

———————

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

So I'm putting together an In Defence of Cassie PowerPoint for a PowerPoint night with friends. Do you have any arguments for or against her? I trust your opinion and am curious.

Let's see.

"She's too powerful, too unique, too far-seeing, and not good enough for Jake! What a Mary Sue!"

Counterpoint: May I introduce you to the reigning champion fan favorite, Sad White Boy Tobias?

Only nothlit ever to regain the ability to morph

Only known human-andalite hybrid ever to exist

Regarded as savior by entire hork-bajir species

Entire existence is a time paradox the war hinges upon

Pulls the canonically "most beautiful girl in our grade", who turns down 6 or 7 other offers in favor of Bird Boy

Correctly predicted planetary ecology 65 million years in advance

Believed to be immune to 2-hour limit

In conclusion: y'all wouldn't be crying "Mary Sue" if Cassie was a sad white boy, and I can prove it.

"She's too weak and hand-wringing, and she never helps the war effort!"

Counterpoint: First of all, the fact that the same people say this in the same breath as "she's too powerful" is... telling. Secondly:

She saved the entire team's lives in #24, in #29, in #44, and in MM1, among others.

Specifically calling out #44 — that ending shows she is willing and able to be ruthless when her friends are in need. She doesn't like slaughtering human-controllers, but if the alternative is everyone she loves dying, then she'll fucking well do it.

Much like Jake (see: Sad White Boy), she's more willing to risk herself than her friends, hence the end of MM1

Her medical knowledge saves Marco from rabies, Ax from brain!appendicitis, and Tobias from bird flu.

Her survivalist knowledge saves everyone in #25 (the Arctic), MM2 (Cretaceous Era), #11 (rainforest), and #14 (desert).

In conclusion: Cassie's only idealistic-looking by the standards of this extremely morally gray team.

"She's so unfair to Jake!"

Counterpoint: Jake? The Jake who refused to speak with her for weeks? Jake who proposes marriage while they're still broken up? Jake who announces he'll never trust Cassie again because she [checks notes] saved his brother's life? That Jake?

Also:

She gives him tons of emotional support in #16, #21, #47, and other times he's feeling low.

They have a healthy argument where they air differences and come to an understanding in #9.

Did I mention he doesn't just dump her but ghosts her in the middle of the war's endgame?

They're teenagers. Their relationship isn't perfect, but it is built on open communication and mutual respect which is more than Rachel and Tobias can say

She's fighting a war, and PTSD for that matter. No, she doesn't have infinite emotional bandwidth.

In conclusion: Their relationship is fine, their breakup is mutual, and her behavior only looks bad if, once again, you're holding Cassie to a different standard than you are Jake.

"She shouldn't have trusted Aftran!"

Counterpoint: friendly reminder that the alternative was killing a 6-year-old for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. If that's what you think Cassie should've done, that tells us more about you than about her.

"She spends too much time moralizing!"

Counterpoint: this is a book series about war, not a friggin' video game. If you want moral pornography, go play Call of Duty. If you want sci fi realism, then you're going to have to accept that a majority of humans prefer not to kill their fellow humans if at all possible.

"She's a ripoff of [insert character here]!"

Counterpoint: literally every single one of these says more about the commenter than about the source work. "Every dystopia is set in the U.S." is the kind of thing only people who only read books by American authors would think. "All epic fantasy is Eurocentric" => tell me you only read books by white people without telling me. I'm glad you think Cassie is too similar to Willow Rosenberg, but there are at least 6 other stories in the known world, and I hear some of them even feature sweet/dorky/caring characters who are secretly ultra-powerful.

In conclusion: You don't have to like Cassie as a (fictional) person, but 85% of criticisms directed at her are bad-faith attacks on one of the 1990s' only fat Black female gnc ultra-powerful superheroes.

[dakkaknight]

While valid, I want to point out that candle making was a full profession protected by guilds in many places. So was soap making. The difference was in who the clientele were. If it was for use at home or by the poor, it was often done by women with little credit. But if the clients were well off (aristocrats and clergy), that was the protected realm of men who would fight to keep others out.

In many areas of history its not just that women aren't mentioned, its that there's an artificial gap between classes being reinforced. Women of the working classes often participated in all aspects of labor to some degree. The idea of "men's work" vs "women's work" wass promoted by upper class men who needed to justify how they would trade women in arranged marriages.

So its not that women weren't involved in craftsmanship and manufacturing, its that history has been written from the perspective of people who needed to keep that quiet.

a phrase that kinda bothers me when talking about women's historical roles in europe is "cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the children." you hear it so often, those exact words in the same order even. and once you learn a little more you realize that the massive gaping hole in that list is fiberwork. im not an expert and have no hard numbers, but i wouldnt be surprised if fiberwork took up nearly as much time as the other three tasks combined, so it's not a trivial omission.

it's not a hot take to say that the mass amnesia about fiberwork is linked to the belittlement of women's work in geneal, but i do think there's a special kind of illusion that is cast by "cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the children." you hear that and think "well i cook and clean and take care of children (or i know someone who does) and i have a sense of how much work that is" and you know of course that cooking and cleaning were more laborious before modern technology, but still, you have a ballpark estimate you think, when in fact you are drastically underestimating the work load.

i also think that this just micharacterizes the role of women's work in livelihoods? cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the children are all sisyphean tasks that have to be repeated the next day. these are important, but not the whole picture. when we include all kinds of fiberwork—and other things, such as making candles or soap—women's work looks much more like manufacturing, a sphere we now associate more with men's work. i feel like women's connection to making and craftsmanship is often elided.

[drewizz]

FRAGMENTS 𐙚 rafe cameron x reader social media au & written.

"Do you remember what you promised me the last time we talked?" "To never leave you, I think. Right?"

SYNOPSIS: Rafe Cameron is your ex-boyfriend. The problem is that nobody knows that you two even dated, not a single soul. Engaging in a reckless game of jealousy, it only goes worse from there. To put it short, two people stupidly flirt with the wrong person, when they could do it to each other.

PROGRESS. coming soon!

CONTENT. smut (mdni), attempts at comedy, toxic relationships, ultimate slow burn, miscommunication, mutual pining. mentions of: cheating, alcohol consumption, marriage, more to be added if needed.

TAGLIST. open! feel free to comment or send in an ask anytime to be added

chapter 1. tba

more to come!

NOTES. helllooo!! i am so excited for this new series, it's so much more organized and strictly planned compared to my first work ever :') keep in mind that i do emphasize the word ultimate (slow burn).. because knowing me.. i love and crave good angst.

[thatonetargaryen]

My Fists Ricochet

Ambessa Medarda x Reader

Alternate ending to: My Tears Ricohect

Synopsis: After you find your wife, Ambessa, in the act of infidelity—you and Mel speed away in a car, leaving your wife in the dust. Filled with sorrow and regret for her actions, she decides to track you down and apologize. Those feelings of sorrow change into confusion as the two of you suddenly disappear without a trace. And when she finds out why—her tears come to a halt as her fists are forced to ricochet.

cw; mentions of kidnapping; infidelity; bondage (not kinky); angst; blood/violence; not proofread; men and minors dni

Special thanks to @hell0-ki55y for original prompt and @misschuli for alternate ending prompt. Hope the two of you enjoy 🎀

…….

Ambessa stared at the car as it sped off, leaving her and her emotions in the dust. The bewilderment she felt was almost immediately replaced with guilt and regret for what she had done. Her chest heaved as she looked towards the ground. It took her moments before she gathered the strength to move.

She turned on her heel, and began her shameful walk up the stairs and towards her manor. She prayed—for his sake—that the brothel worker wasn’t there. Her emotions were all over the place, and she wouldn’t know what she’d do if she saw him there.

Thankfully, when she walked into the manor, he was no where to be seen. Only spilled wine and the smell of sex filled the room. She grimaced at the smell closed her eyes. She barked for one of the nearby servants to clean the mess.

No servant came.

She opened her eyes, and no servant was present nearby. It was completely silent. Not even her guards were present. She rolled her eyes as she remembered dismissing all the guards and servants so that she would be alone with the boy.

Ambessa groaned, but ultimately went into a nearby kitchen and got a bowl of hot soapy water, a rag, and a towel.

She dragged herself towards the main area. She went to her knees as she began to clean the warm wine off the white floors.

As she scrubbed, her mind couldn’t help but drift to her wife. The face she made when she could her in the act. It was one of pure betrayal. One of a woman watching over fifteen years of marriage being flushed down the drain. The star in her eye fading, now becoming nothing but a dim light, reminding Ambessa of a distant memory.

She thought of the recent years. How she slowly started to turn away from your affection, treating it as if it were the plague. How she avoided your warm greetings and replied with short, stifled one—or none at all. How she’d left you in a cold bed in hopes that would toughen the walls she fought so hard to build.

She thought of an incident that happened just two years prior. You had arranged a small gathering—nothing too big. It would be just the two of you, sitting under the stars eating cake and drinking the finest of wines. Something calm and romantic, just how she liked it. You gave her small invitation on her pillow to look at when she woke up—a bit corny, but full of warmth and love. It had a place and time—one where you knew she would be off duty. You had hoped she would take the time off to come.

That night, you waited under the stars. Alone. The scenery was beautiful, and yet, Ambessa was never there to fill it. It took you over two hours to realize she wasn’t coming.

She had gotten caught up in ‘work’—or at least that was the weak excuse she was given you. You shouted and complained at her, saying how she was putting duty over the relationship.

She looked you in the eye that night and said you were overreacting. Being ridiculous. That you wouldn’t understand what it takes to have responsibility.

You cried into your pillow that night, and your relationship had been strained ever since.

Ambessa became more vigorous in her scrubbing as tears clouded her vision. Not long after the argument, she started taking paramours into her bed. She had men and women alike, anyone but you. By distancing herself from you, she thought, it would allow her to make the necessary to protect her family.

Every time she did something—she thought about you. Whether it be making a political decision or agreeing to an alliance, your voice spoke in the back of her mind. What would you think? What would you say? Would you agree to this?

That’s all she asked herself—and she fucking hated it.

The once ruthless and formidable leader had been softened by the gentle voice of her wife. The thought came to her in the deepest depths of the night, and she couldn’t shake it away.

She couldn’t even have a good fuck without thinking about you.

She knew this would happen eventually. You would find out about her infidelity and walk out on her—just as everyone else had. The thought of the thorn in her side finally being gone did nothing but please her.

But she didn’t know it would hurt so much. To see your heartbroken eyes as you caught her red-handed in the act of doing something she thought would protect the both of you.

Ambessa threw the rag down as she reached up both of her hands and rubbed her eyes and cheeks as tears of frustration ran down her face. She rose from her knees and turned away—the mess being long forgotten.

She walked out of the main room and into the hallway. Her footsteps halted as she leaned against a nearby wall. She held her face in her hands as her heart raced in her chest.

Her fists clenched at her sides, and she couldn’t stop the endless stream of tears that cascaded down her face.

…..

You leaned on Mel’s shoulder as you bit your lip. You couldn’t even bring yourself to cry—but you knew the tears would come again eventually.

Mel held you but said nothing, already knowing you had seen everything you needed to. When the girl first saw her mother with the paramour, her heart fell to her feet. She berated her mother, telling her to consider your feelings. Telling her to stay loyal. That she would regret it sooner or later. And by the look on her face before the car drove off—she did.

If Mel hadn’t hated her mother before—she definitely did now. And the more she looked into your empty, heartbroken eyes—the more her resentment grew. Sending her away from her home—away from you—and now this? She would have to get on her hands and knees if their relationship would ever be resolved.

The car came to a stop, but you made no move to get out the car. You furrowed your brows as you surveyed your surroundings.

Mel spoke up, “Excuse me, sir, this isn’t our stop.”

The driver ignored her as he continued to look forward.

You looked up at Mel as you straightened, “Mel, whose car are we in?”

Mel’s heart drummed against her chest. “I-I waved down the car….They were just driving circles in front of the manor….Now that I think about it—”

“Dammit, Mel”, you gritted through your teeth as you checked the door—and to your horror, was locked.

You jumped out of your skin as the door was abruptly open and a man pressed a gun to your temple.

“If you want to live—I suggest you get out of the fuckin’ car.”

…..

Ambessa leaned over the table as she stared into the fire. She hadn’t moved in hours. The way the flames moved and danced atop the wood—it was the only thing distracting her mind and keeping her from going crazy.

Suddenly, a guard busted through the doors, and her head shot up. Her bloodshot eyes burned holes through the man as she gritted her teeth, “How dare you barge in my room without kno—”

“M’lady, my deepest apologies for intruding, but it has been brought to my attention that your wife and daughter are in danger. We must leave, now!”

She stilled as she heard those words, and only then noticed her son—Kino—with a worried look on his face as he stood behind a group of guards.

Ambessa shot up from her chair and wasted no time exiting the room and making her way towards the guard. “What happened?!”

“T-there was a woman who claims to have witnessed the two of them being forcibly taken out of a car and held at gun point. She ran off before she could do anything.”

Ambessa’s mind ran at a thousand miles per minute, “Is she sure that was Mel and Y/N?”

The woman spoke up as she held on tightly to a bag of groceries, “I’m sure of it, m’lady. It wasn’t too far from here, either.”

Ambessa’s fists clenched as her heart dropped. However, she knew she couldn’t break down—that would just waste time. “Assemble the guards and scout the nearby area—interrogate nearby residents. Split the team in two—and sent one half with me.”

The guard nodded stiffly, “Right away, General.”

She turned to her son, and they shared a quick look of concern. Her for her wife, and him for his mother. He spoke after a moment, “I’m going with you.”

Ambessa’s shoulders stiffened and she turned away, “Just don’t get in my way.”

…..

Your body was cold as your eyes moved around frantically, only to be met with darkness and the smell of potatoes. Your breathing picked up as you struggled against the rope around your wrist. The material burned through your skin, and you could already tell it would be bruised tomorrow.

The muffled cries of your daughter echoed throughout the cell, and you heard her shift on the cold floors. “M—Mom?”

Your ears perked up as you heard her call out. “I’m here, Mel. Breathe, child”

Her strained breathing was a clear sign of an anxiety attack, and the need to help her made you struggle against the rope harder. “Breathe, Mel. It’s gonna be alright. I’m here.”

Her heavy breathes quieted. A small moment of relief came to you, but it was soon taken when you heard a man’s voice call out. “A moment between mother and daughter, how touching.”

The sound of tools being played with echoed, “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Before anything happens, a door is abruptly opened. The sound of wrestling, yelling, and fighting fills your ears. The smell of blood penetrates through the bag on your head, and your head starts to spin from the smell.

The rope around your wrists was suddenly cut with impressive precision, and the bag was gently taken off of your head. You looked up to meet Ambessa’s eyes, and all the anger you once felt dissipated into relief. “ ‘Bessa….”

She gently picked you up—bridal style—and carried you out of the cellar. You looked over her shoulder and sighed in relief as you see Mel being freed behind you.

You were placed inside of a car, and a blanket was thrown about your shoulders. Everything has happened so fast—so quickly—that you had no time to process it. The question ‘What just happened’ weighed heavy in your mind.

You felt a hand wrap itself around yours, and you looked up to find your son, Kino. The look of relive and tranquility was evident on his handsome face—but an underlying knowing look was present in his eyes. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, “No…at least not physically.”

The meaning behind your words didn’t go over Kino’s head as he noticed how you kept eye contact with Ambessa as you spoke. The woman sat across from you as she averted her gaze. You could see her jaw clench as she attempted to keep her stoic face. Even then—she couldn’t let her guard down. Now even in front of her children. You sighed in disappointment.

The car door opened and closed as Mel made her way into the car. Her hair was frazzled and her eyes were bloodshot from crying. She constantly rubbed her hands around her wrists. She stare straight forward at nothing in particular. She flinched when you threw the other half of your blanket over her shoulders. You brought her in and wrapped your arm around her shoulders. You let her learn on your shoulder as she gripped the covers for dear life.

You turned to Kino, “How’d you know we were there?”

He spoke up, though his voice was shaky and unstable—, “Uh….some lady saw what transpired. She reported it to one of the guards…”

You nodded stiffly, “I’m glad you got to me in time….I don’t know what would’ve happened if you all had gotten there any later.”

Ambessa closed her eyes, as if the very thought of what could’ve happened disgusted her.

Kino spoke again, “Did they say what they wanted?”

Mel shook her head, “The guards came before he could mention his intent.”

Ambessa inserted herself into the conversation and spoke in an even tone, “We’ll know when we conduct a thorough investigation on him and his posse.”

You bit your lip at her words, already knowing that investigation was just another word for torture.

You shook your head, “No matter, the fact that we’re all safe is what matters. I don’t want to dwell on it for long.”

Kino slightly chuckled at that, “You’ve always been like that…quick to dismiss everything and move on…I don’t know whether or not that’s a good thing.”

You smirked at his words, “Live’s too short to dwell on trying matters. Mel and I are safe, and the only thing on my mind is getting us all home. Together.”

Mel shuffled on your arm, “Together? That word doesn’t exactly describe the Medardas…”

You threw the blanket over Kino’s shoulder as you pulled him into you, “Tonight it will.”

And as Ambessa stared at the sight of the three of you lean in on each other, her resolve for fixing what she had done became stronger. Not just for herself—but for her children.

You brought a softness into this family. You were the glue that held them all together—and wouldn’t let go.

She’d be damned if she let what she had done destroy the bond the two of you had built.

……

Hope you enjoyed 🎀

I know it’s short, but I wanna start on the other alternate ending with Sevika. It’s much juicer 😈

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Steve Harrington x Reader • mention of alcohol, semi-public sex, Steve’s horny & unhinged (same, honestly) oral (f receiving) unprotected sex, cum play, squirting, vaginal fingering

Steve hates attending dinner parties, and you hate hosting them. But with the first anniversary of your marriage approaching, your friends insisted there should be some kind of a celebration. Since the event was celebrating something as personal as your marriage, you chose to host the event at your home. Steve’s friends and yours are currently gathered in the dining room. The house is spotless; the food has been catered and tastes delicious. Your guests are chatting and getting along just fine, making easy conversation between themselves. Everything would be going great, if your husband wasn’t in such an…amorous mood. Because it’s becoming increasingly difficult to focus on the conversation around you while Steve’s fingers are moving between your legs under the table…

You smile politely, trying to keep it together for your guests. Steve has a complete poker face, taking generous sips of wine and cracking jokes with his buddies like nothing’s happening. Above the table, everything looks innocent; but with your laps hidden beneath it, your husband has free rein to work you into a mess in front of everyone.

You could end his teasing if you wanted to. A little swat of Steve’s hand and a stern ‘look,’ would be enough to make him cease his torment. But you don’t want him to stop. He’s rubbing your clit through your panties, your pussy swollen and aching under Steve’s touch. It started with him playfully stroking your knee, his hand gradually traveling up your skirt and between your thighs. Now, Steve’s got you so worked up that your clit is pulsing against his fingertips.

He’s able to hold his composure just fine until he makes one mistake that breaks him. As his fingers slip inside the crotch of your panties and Steve feels just how fucking soaked you are, he loses his focus completely. The words he’s saying die on his tongue mid-sentence, all the blood rushing from his head to his cock. You smile a little to yourself, happy to see that the playing field has been evened a bit. King Steve isn’t quite the master of self control he seems to think he is. You notice the muscles in his jaw tense in an effort to complete his train of thought, when you know all he can think about is how wet you are for him. As Steve presses his fingers lower, you intentionally adjust yourself in your seat to invite his fingers just inside you. Steve’s whole body jerks as his fingertips are now poised at your entrance; a little pressure is all it would take for him to be inside you now. You’re so fucking wet, he could easily wear you on his fingers right there at the table if he wanted to.

But he doesn’t. He clears his throat, composing himself, removing his hand from between your legs and subtly adjusting himself under the table. You watch him take another sip from his glass and reach for a napkin, pretending to need it. Steve’s fingers are glistening with your arousal; you watch as he subtly brings them to his nose, patting the napkin to his lips, his eyes fluttering when he catches your scent. Despite his best efforts, Steve is now struggling to hold a conversation with your guests, let alone make himself a charming host. You take pity on him, knowing how uncomfortable his cock must be straining against his pants, how badly you both need to relieve yourselves. “Steve?” you say at his ear, and he immediately responds with a breathy “yeah?”

“Can you help me finish up desert?” you ask. Steve nods readily, pushing his chair back and discarding the napkin onto his mostly-emptied plate. He turns away from the table as he leaves his chair, concealing his obvious erection. Steve excuses himself and follows you like a puppy to the kitchen, right on your heels. He reaches for your waist as you round the corner into the kitchen. You swat his hand away with a giggle, which doesn’t dissuade Steve, who reaches for your ass instead. You’ve led him through the kitchen and down the hall, lingering with him in your bedroom doorway. You peek past Steve’s shoulder toward the dining room, listening to your guests talking. Steve guides one hand along your arm, his other gently kneading your ass. “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you whisper through a grin. Steve draws back his hand and gives your ass a hard spank! , the cracking sound so loud that he briefly looks behind him to make sure no one heard. As the conversation in the dining room continues uninterrupted, Steve turns his face back to yours, all humor removed from his expression. With a dark, lustful tone, he quietly orders you: “Inside. On the bed. Now.”

You let yourself land back on the bed as Steve closes the door behind you both, locking it. He climbs on top of you, his thighs framing yours. You reach for his belt and so does he, your fingers fumbling together. His breath and yours are uneven, impatient. You tug down Steve’s zipper and with a groan of relief, his hand closes around his stiff cock, pumping up and down his shaft as his other hand snakes up your skirt. He grips the waistband of your panties and yanks them down, the elastic tearing in protest. “Shit,” Steve curses. “Sorry.” You shush him with a kiss, gripping his shoulders and pulling him in close. His hands grope down your body to your hips, spreading them wider. Steve trails kisses down your stomach, pushing up the bottom of your dress around your waist. You let your head rest back on the pillow as Steve nestles his face between your thighs. He doesn’t give you a chance to prepare, delving the tip of his tongue immediately inside you.

Your body jerks in response, a gasp shuddering up from your chest. You clench the shoulders of his dress shirt, bunching the fabric in your fists. Steve nuzzles his nose against your clit, his tongue lapping between your walls. The sound of your wetness is audible as Steve’s tongue works your juices in and out of your cunt, his chin dripping with you. He’s kneeling beside the bed, pumping his cock in his fist while he eats you. Your eyes are on the ceiling, your mind in a blissful haze as Steve takes what he needs from you. The first flutters of orgasm begin tickling deep in your belly, ushered in by the steady lap of Steve’s tongue pulsing inside you.

He knows you’re close, knows every bit of your body and its signals, almost better than you know yourself. Steve adds a finger inside you as well, reaching the parts of you his tongue couldn’t. Pleasure seizes you, your back arching involuntarily, heels kicking into the bed as you thrash. Steve releases his cock and clamps his arm over your waist, holding you in place as you come. He moans into your pussy, words your mind can’t understand but your body knows instinctively, his breath spraying your wetness on your thighs as he pants between them. Steve rises to his feet, his hand returning to his cock. You reach for him, but he breathlessly tells you “no, no baby, stay there, just like that.” Steve’s forehead is damp with sweat, his nose and chin slathered in you. He moves his free hand between your legs, using his fingertips to spread your labia, his eyes honing in on your slick, puckering hole like a predator eyeing its prey.

With a low groan, Steve empties his release onto you, spattering your cunt in his cum. He keeps your lips spread, watching his seed land on and just inside your cunt. Steve uses his fingers to slather his cum all over you, slipping two fingers inside you easily. He climbs back over you, wrapping his arm around your neck, pulling your body into his in an intimate embrace. Steve fucks his cum deep inside you with his fingers, an audible sloshing sound coaxing up from between your legs. You choke out a cry of relief as a second climax consumes you, your cunt fluttering and squeezing around Steve’s fingers. He buries his face between your legs again, lapping up your orgasm. You rut yourself against the bridge of Steve’s nose, smearing his face again with your cum, like a dog marking what belongs to it. He rests awhile between your legs, his cheek relaxed against your warm, sticky thigh.

The pair of you almost fall asleep like this, with your arms splayed out above you and Steve’s head resting between your legs. Just before dozing off, you remember that friends are still hanging out in your dining room. You pat Steve’s shoulder and point past him to the door. “People,” you remind him, sliding off the bed. Steve doesn’t seem to be in the hurry that you are as he watches you adjust your dress and smooth your hair in the mirror. You catch him watching you with a satisfied grin on his lips, and turn to face him. “What?” you ask, matching his smile.

Steve leaves the bed and approaches you at the mirror, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He nestles his chin in the crook of your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss there. “I was just thinking,” he replies, his breath warming your skin. “That girl in the mirror-” Steve points his index finger at your reflection. “-That girl, right there…” He purses his lips against your neck again, once, twice, three times. “…That’s my dream girl right there,” Steve murmurs softly. “Her husband’s the luckiest guy in the whole damn world…”

@hippiegoth97 @octobertales @buckysgrace @loserboysandlithium @professionalpromqueen @southerngothicchic @stuffedwithsteve @thecreelhouse @heartbreak-sandwich @whenisthefall @probablyin-bed

[its-cartooncrazy]

[Image description: a list of all tarot cards in the major arcana, along with their meanings. They have been matched to a vessel from slay the princess, using the drawings from the memories page. Full text ID under the cut.]

Hello I spent like a week being abnormal about this (no I did not know the tarot cards by heart before this, yes I do now) so here is my definitive list of which princess matches which tarot card. If you disagree with me then you're wrong (joking, please feel free to tell me with your reasoning, I'd love to hear it!!)

Full list of my reasonings under the cut (scroll to the big text saying "Reasonings" to skip the ID)

[Full ID: three columns, listing first the tarot number and name, then card meanings, then the princess. They are as follows:

0. The Fool. cycle of life, birth & death, hope, optimism, childish, spontaneous, lateral thinking. The Damsel

1. The Magician. practical, success, witty, at home, central nervous system & lungs & senses, unemotional, over analyses. The Moment of Clarity

2. The High Priestess. heightened perception, unknown, mystery, occult, patience, intuition, strong independent woman, unable to control or dominate. The Wraith

3. The Empress. powerful women, creativity, growth, beauty, birth, fertility, warm, loving, sensual, enjoys life to the full. The Adversary

4. The Emperor. structure & power, competitive, achievement, authority, hierarchy, dominance. The Tower

5. The Hierophant. status quo, appearances, marriage, teaching, interpreting, structure, routine. Happily Ever After

6. The Lovers. love, romance, union, soulmates, resolved inner conflict, choice. The Wild

7. The Chariot. reward, victory hard won, don’t give up, try again, vehicles, overcoming obstacles, self discipline, hard work, focus. The Beast

8. Justice. logical decision, balanced mind, negotiation, truth, honesty, integrity. The Spectre

9. The Hermit. Solitude, thinking, introspection, learning, teaching. The Prisoner

10. The Wheel of Fortune. Fate, coincidence, luck, cycles, confusion. The Stranger

11. Strength. generous, loving, courage, conviction, optimism, resolve, generous, antagonism resolved, animals (loving). The Den

12. The Hanged Man. unable to move, temporary pause, patience, self limiting, trapped, sacrifice, wait for info. The Cage

13. Death. cycle of death & rebirth, transformation, something is ending, confronting smth alarming, major change. The Eye of the Needle

14. Temperance. balanced, adaptable, see both sides, calm, solve disputes, works well in a team, mixing opposites, blending, time. The Princess and the Dragon

15. The Devil. material world, buying love, material security, mental health, powerlessness, violence, obsession, secrecy. The Witch

16. The Tower. disruptive, violent, necessary change, enlightenment, trauma, loss, upheaval, tragedy. The Fury

17. The Star. hope, new life, fresh insight, phys or ment wounds heal, heal & inspire others, help, human rights, nature, equality. The Thorn

18. The Moon. dreams, imagination, subconscious, illusion, vagueness, deception, fear, anxiety. The Nightmare

19. The Sun. happiness & vitality, energy, confidence, children, freedom, fun, self expression. The Razor

20. Judgement. decisions, awakening, rebirth, healing, homesickness, celebrate success, self evaluation, blame. The Grey

21. The World. end of a cycle, accomplishment, journey, belonging, wholeness. The Apotheosis

End ID]

Reasonings

The Fool I put the damsel down for pretty early, just because of the childish optimism, but later I was thinking about the damsel route and why it wouldn't fit the Lovers and I said the damsel is more about how they are rushing into it. And then I remembered the Fool is about rushing in lol. I couldn't really consider anything else after that

The Magician mentions the central nervous system and lungs, so I considered putting the nightmare here for paranoids mantra, but the card didn't really fit her that well and the central nervous system is different to the autonomous nervous system anyway so. The Moment of Clarity gets this spot for her practical breaking of you, and the success it brings her. Not one of my easiest placements but I'm still pretty happy with it

The high Priestess was hard to place because she's about the occult, and powerful women who don't need a man. If only there was a princess who fit that mold... (/s if it wasn't clear) so yeah. Half the princesses were written down here at one point. The Wraith gets this spot because I found other places for all the others I guess and also because "She could not find her strength in others, so she found it in herself."

The empress is again a powerful woman, but a loving and nurturing one, who encourages growth. It was both the growth and the partnership she has that gave her the adversary

The Emperor is about hierarchy and dominance. I knew very early on that the tower would fit best here. "This one is dominance."

The hierophant is about structure, appearances, and also marriage. Happily Ever After is all about being trapped within this structure, with ties specifically to marriage. Literally tell me I'm wrong?

The Lovers. Okay. So there's a few this could be. The Damsel, with the voice of the smitten? Not really as equal a partnership, as I mentioned in the Fool section. They don't really know each other. The Thorn, where you can kiss her? Well that ignores like. The entire rest of the route so no. Happily ever after? Maybe, but I prefer her in hierophant. The adversary, with your equal partnership in kicking each others asses? Easily, but I also put her elsewhere. Ironically, the Lovers was one of the last two cards I placed, and the only princesses left were the wild and the grey, and unfortunately I couldn't agree with the drowned grey going here. The wild has you literally being one, achieving a common goal. It's not my favourite placement but I dont hate it so.

The chariot is about putting in the hard work and seeing it through, and she does make an effort to capture you (swallow you whole) and bring you to the door so she can escape. Also it's about vehicles, and she literally acts as a vehicle for you. That idea was too funny to not do tbh

Justice is one of three cards that mention balance, so I wanted one of the ones where you merge to go here. Much like the scales of justice, it is about considering all sides and picking fairly, so it had to go to the spectre, who gets justice for her murder when you help her out. The spectre was written down for like half the cards on this list though my god

The hermit is about solitude and self introspection. The prisoner, sitting in silence for millenia, felt very fitting. I also wanted the cage to be here, because the image of the hermit is him holding up a lantern, and having the cage holding her head like that would be fun, but she fit better in the hanged man so.

The wheel of fortune was one of my later picks. Fate, and also cycles. Its a little vague, and can fit with quite a few princesses, but I put the stranger here. Is it the vibes? Something about coincidences and not meeting her feels similar, but I cant put my finger on it so if you can explain please do.

Strength, but of the inner sort. The Den didn't really have anywhere better to go, I don't know if instinct matches with any of the cards. I felt confidence in ones self was pretty similar to instinct, plus it has ties to animals.

The hanged man is self restrictions. I would have liked to put the thorn here, honestly, hanging from her vines. Ultimately it was the best choice for the cage, though, and I had another good option for the thorn. Anyway, the cage can be hanging from all those chains and hooks. "This one is a body that convinced herself she was only a set of eyes." Sounds like her limits are self imposed for sure!

Death and the tower have similar meanings in that things are coming to an end, and both of them I felt were good fits for both eye of the needle and the Fury. Ultimately I put eotn here because its more cyclical, and when she was the adversary she wanted to continue fighting over and over again.

Temperance is the second balance card, specifically about blending this time. Opposites merging, solving disputes. Felt very much like the princess and the dragon chapter. "This one is perspectives bleeding into one."

The Devil is a person tricking you, but also material security. I only ever put the witch down for this one, and I only ever put her down for one card lol. The mutual trickery and betrayal in her chapter felt too fitting. "A trick behind your back, and a trick behind mine."

The tower, like I said, is similar to death in that they are both about things ending. But the tower is more dramatic, about the sudden upheaval, so I thought thematically it matched with the Fury better, who is very upset and very taking it out on you. This is one of the cards I knew the meaning of from the beginning, so unfortunately there was never a point in which the tower was matched with the tower :(

The star is hope and healing. One of many that the spectre could have matched with. (I wanted to make her star shaped wound be the star... oh well). The Thorn fits well here, if you both choose to end the cycle of violence and leave together. The star also has ties to nature, which fits with the thorns... thorns... I would have preferred her at the hanged man for her self limiting, being trapped in her own thorns, but this is also a very good choice so I'm not too mad lol

The moon is fear and anxiety. Plus the moon only comes out at night, when everyone is sleeping, when you have nightmares! But mostly it's the vagueness, mystery and anxiety stuff.

The sun being joy meant I knew I wanted the razor here from the beginning. I briefly considered putting her at death (for the cycles, and also the uh, death) but I think the dying part of her route is not actually that important? Anyway the razor is my wife and I'm glad she's enjoying herself. "She is cruelty. But she is also joy." See, shifty gets it!

Judgement is where you look back on everything and judge yourself. It was one of the last two cards to be assigned, and the wild did not fit here at all. Plus the grey sort of punishes you for your actions? It's unavoidable, is my point.

The world is accomplishment, wholeness. She is as close to becoming the goddess she truly is as any vessel ever comes. "This one sits at the cusp of awakening." Shifty says. Also Apotheosis literally means climax so I had to put her at the end of the tarot, you understand.

So yeah that's that. Thanks for reading, if you managed to get through all that. Feel free to debate different interpretations at me, I'd love to hear em!

[kwanisms]

It’s the season of love, or lust. Here’s a collection of 14 separate tales to keep you company this Valentine’s season. demon/incubus!Idol × fem!Reader

» back || playlist || taglist « ❑ WORDCOUNT —  ❑ WARNINGS — adult language, female reader, shorter reader, reincarnated reader, chubby!Reader, smaller reader, jealousy and possessiveness, mentions of: marriage, travel, homesickness, food & alcohol consumption, history of drug use, depression & thoughts of suicide, feelings of isolation, past love, heartbreak, major character death, reincarnation, severe depression, loneliness, minor character death, food & alcohol consumption, occultism, witchcraft, demonic summoning & rituals, PTSD, graveyards, ghost hunting, communicating with spirits, hospital environments, long working hours, bodily trauma, blood, gore; see each part for full warnings! ❑ CONTENT — angst, fluff, smut; supernatural, fantasy, demons & angels, biblical, established relationships, office setting, boss!Reader, coworkers to lovers, ER doctor!Reader, demon!Idols; non idol au, demon au, farm au, hospital au; see each part for full content lists! ❑ NOTES — happy valentine's, my loves! Here is something no one asked for but I'm delivering anyway! I've got 14 stories here, 11 of which are sequels to existing aus I've created and three new ones! They're all of my existing demon aus! From Seventeen to Stray Kids to Day6, all of my demon characters are being revisited here! Taglist is open and will close at the end of January so sign up now! Thanks for the support thus far babes and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

 ➥ incubus!Kihyun × fem!Reader summary: After the events of her story, Y/N has had her curse broken and succubus powers removed, allowing her to live a normal life. She has managed to keep a low profile, getting a job in a diner, her entire world is turned upside down when one of the men she was tasked with seducing in her previous life shows up at the diner late one night with a bone to pick with her. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 1

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 ➥ incubus!Hongjoong × fem!Reader × Seonghwa summary: After being banished to hell, Hongjoong manages to find a weak point and escapes back to the mortal realm. He only has a short time before the hounds of Hell are sent after him to bring him back and he makes the most of his time by tracking down his former servant only to find Seonghwa’s vampire curse has been broken and that he’s now happily married to the woman who destroyed everything Hongjoong built up. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 2

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 ➥ incubus!Jisung × fem!Reader summary: Now that all his friends are seeming to settle down with their respective partners, Han decides to venture out on his own and explore a new city. While there, he meets someone who flips his world upside down and turns it inside out. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 3

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 ➥ demon!Jeonghan × fem!Reader summary: Jeonghan lost his chance at love by being stubborn and cruel. Since then, he’d been drifting through the world, finding no meaning at continuing his meaningless charade. He refused to return to Hell but being on Earth was even more torture. He thought about just ending everything when the world came to a halt upon spotting a familiar face on the streets of Paris. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 4

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 ➥ incubus!Johnny × fem!Reader summary: Y/N has been living her best life, having climbed the social ladder at work and now heads her department, thanks to the promotion she landed. She can’t forget the reason for her success and one night while at the office working late, the demon she made a deal with comes back to check in. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 5

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 ➥ demon!Mingi × fem!Reader summary: Summers spent in the country used to have a sense of nostalgia but now, as you helped clear out your aunt’s old farm house, it was just hot and all you did was sweat. When you come across an old, tattered black book, things go from hot to hotter when you are transported to an alternate dimension where you meet a mysterious man who inhabits your aunt’s house on what he calls the ‘Other Side.’  read now »» coming Feb 6

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 ➥ incubus!Sungjin × fem!Reader summary: Since the incident at the museum, involving the old grimoire, Y/N has kept a low profile and quit her job at the museum, instead getting a job at a bookstore in a quiet part of town. It’s been three years and she still has the book, keeping it locked in a glass case in her house. The demon has not appeared since but she can’t shake the uneasy feeling she has as the fifth year anniversary of the Summoning approaches. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 7

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 ➥ incubus!Yeonjun × fem!Reader summary: After a visit to the old graveyard with her friends, Y/N has had this uneasy feeling of being followed or watched. Maybe she’s being paranoid, or maybe it's the result of playing around with a Ouija board but one thing is certain; she keeps seeing someone or something watching her from the window in her bedroom. read now »» coming Feb 8

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 ➥ incubus!Jongho × fem!Reader summary: As a result of passing his seduction test, Jongho has become a full-fledged incubus. He’s now among the ranks of those who have made names for themselves. He finds that being an incubus comes with a great amount of freedom and responsibility. Responsibility he shirks because he can’t seem to stay away from the one who helped him pass his test: Y/N.  read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 9

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 ➥ demon!Seungmin × fem!Reader summary: Your idea of fun was playing video games with your friends or playing beer pong at a frat party. It did not include summoning a demon in the basement of the creepy, old abandoned house at the end of Willow Avenue.  read now »» coming Feb 10

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 ➥ demon!Chan × fem!Reader summary: Ever since she summoned him, Chan hasn’t been able to get Y/N out of his mind. He returns to her after some time and insists that she accept the proposal he made to her the last time he was there. He wants to be bound exclusively to her. Y/N is hesitant but Chan tells her to think it over while he makes his trip to visit her worth both their time. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 11

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 ➥ incubus!Chanyeol × fem!Reader summary: Since their encounter and Chanyeol’s nature as an incubus exposed, he and Y/N have had a secret relationship which tends to bring out the worst jealousy in both of them. They often sneak around the hospital, meeting in secret places.  read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 12

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 ➥ incubus!Hyunjin × fem!Reader × witch!Felix summary: After his visit, Hyunjin has moved into the house next door to Y/N and Felix, making himself at home as their neighbor and tormenting Felix by plaguing Y/N’s dreams. Hyunjin seems determined to make Felix’s life a living hell and drive a wedge between the witch and his girlfriend. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 13

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 ➥ incubus!Joshua × fem!Reader summary: Ever since that fateful night where Joshua revealed himself as a demon, Joshua and Y/N have built a life for themselves, living together in her house and working at the antique shop together. When Joshua decides to take her out for a romantic Valentine’s dinner, his jealous side emerges when he thinks the waiter is flirting with Y/N so he takes her home to remind her who she belongs to. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 14

©️ kwanisms 2018 - 2025 | all written and artistic works on this blog are protected under copyright. reposts, continuations, and translations of my works are not permitted. All graphics made by me.

[thekoalapastriesbakery]

WRONG HOODIE

formula one x male!driver!reader

request: trans driver accidentally shows up to the paddock in readers hoodie who drives for a different team - 🐺

summary: how was your boyfriend supposed to know wearing another team's merch was a bad idea?

warnings: swearing, mildly suggestive content (charles, franco, kimi), minor affectionate bullying (franco, kimi), mentions of williams treatment of logan (logan), mentions of marriage/engagement (logan) logan's is sorta based off so american by olivia rodrigo

contains: charles leclerc, franco colapinto, kimi antonelli, + logan sargeant

©thekoalapastriesbakery :: please do not copy or rewrite my work on any platform !!

author's note: i wasn't really planning on making logan's based off so american but it just seemed to work and it's such a sweet song <3 this one's not specifically trans!drivers because it seemed a little weird to bring up unprompted in the conversation.

taglist: @raizelchrysanderoctavius @crispysoup318 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @ncrsbrg @spoonfulofmilo @justaf1girl @widow-cevans

[absurdthirst]

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

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 22.4k

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

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

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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

|| MasterList || Marcus Acacius MasterList ||

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

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

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

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

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

Marcus groans at the confession, his heart pounding, and he knows he has to return to Rome in glory. That is the only way he can be with you, the only way you can be his. He shifts onto his elbow, his free hand sliding down your body to rub your clit. He wants you to fall apart for him. He wants to hear you cry out his name.

Being lovers for so long has given Marcus a very intimate knowledge of your body. Knowing exactly how to make you cry out in pleasure as he touches you. “Acacius!” You cry out as pleasure washes over you a few moments later.

Marcus loves the way you fall apart beneath him, his hand pulling away from your clit to cup your cheek. He presses his lips to yours with a low groan and rocks into you a little harder, faster as he seeks his own pleasure. "Fuck." He curses against your lips, his forehead pressing into yours as he thrusts one, two, three more times before he rips himself free from your cunt, his cock twitching as his hot seed spurts over your belly and the thatch of curls between your thighs.

You bite your lip, wishing that he could stay inside you, but you can’t risk a child. You already have to make sure that you drink your tea tonight, given to you by one of your servants to make sure you do not have a child before you are ready. “The great Marcus Acacius looks so wrecked when he cums.” You tease, caressing his cheek. “Amor.”

He tries to catch his breath, chuckling breathlessly as his orgasm rattles through his system. “One day you’ll be my wife. We will be together. I just need time to be worthy of you.” He murmurs, shifting to lay down beside you and he pulls you into his chest.

“You’re worthy now.” You insist, curling against his chest. “You will be promoted any day now and most of the men under your command already have families.”

Marcus sighs, "you know your father won't let me marry you. He wants you to be with a senator or someone with status. I am nobody. A boy who was brought to Rome to fight. To earn my freedom and climb the ranks in the army. I am doing that but I have no family coin. I have no property other than my home. I am nothing and I need to be something to have you." He murmurs and you shake your head, "you already have me." You promise but Marcus shifts to kiss your forehead, "I want all of you. I want you to be my wife. To have our children. To die knowing I spent my life loving you."

You hum softly, smiling as soon as you think about having his babies. Carrying them under your heart as you wait for him to return from another successful campaign. “That is what will happen.” You tell him, completely sure of your future together. “The gods will see it so.”

Marcus sighs, hoping you are right but the gods can be cruel. He closes his eyes and prays he doesn’t have to die without you being his wife. 

**** 

“Acacius.” You gasp when Marcus pushes into your home, your father is in the Senate but the servants will report your lover’s presence to him. Your brow furrows when you see how tense your lover is, his shoulders bunched. “I am to go to war again, my love. I- they have made me a General. The Emperors are young but they have been advised to give me this status. We can marry. As soon as I return.” He announces but he is worried he is being played a fool by the powers that be.

“Oh Marcus.” You reach up and caress his cheek. The unrest since the death of Commodus and Marcus’s former General, Maximus Meridius in the colosseum has set everyone one edge. Rumors were swirling that Lucilla had sent her son, Lucius away after power had been seized by the twins. No one had seen the boy in months. “I will wait for you and make plans.” You promise, leaning in to press your lips to his firmly despite the disapproving audience of your father’s servants.

He pulls you close, needing to feel you before he leaves. His men are packing their things and they are preparing to leave to conquer more land for Rome. “I love you.” He murmurs against your lips, “and I need you. Please, amor. One more time before I leave.” He pleads, his hand sliding down to squeeze your ass through your robes.

You turn your head towards the servants. “Leave us.” You command, knowing that they will have no choice but to obey you. Bowing their heads, they disappear and you grab Marcus’s hand to drag him towards the courtyard. It is cooler there and you want to make sure that you send your General off right.

Marcus lets you escort him through the villa until you are in the courtyard and he groans when you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close to press your lips to his. He responds immediately, sliding his tongue into your mouth, wanting to dominate you before he leaves you for gods know how long.

Moaning softly, you feel the determination in Marcus, knowing what he wants. Reaching up, you unpin the laurels that hold up your dress. Pushing back slightly to let the garment fall to the floor to leave you in your slippers.

His eyes trail along your form, darkening as he tries to memorize every detail to carry him through the long lonely nights of war. He is tenting his tunic but he steps closer to you and sinks down onto his knees, grabbing your thighs to drag you towards him. He wastes no time surging forward to press his nose between your thighs, breathing in your scent until his tongue slides through your folds.

“Acacius,” your gasp is quickly turned into a moan from the flick of his tongue across your clit. Marcus has never been shy about providing you pleasure and this is the last time you can be together before he leaves. Your fingers card through his hair, grinding your hips forward to give him more access to your cunt. “You are better than the women at the baths.” You praise breathlessly.

He doesn’t deny you pleasure in the baths. He loves that you are satisfied during his absence and he trusts that he has your heart. However, he is competitive and he wants to outshine those women. His tongue flicks until he sucks your clit into his mouth, loving how you moan loud enough for the servants to hear. Possessing you in the only way he can at this time.

You whimper his name, looking down and watching as a Roman general kneels down in front of you and feasts on your cunt. “Gods.” You moan loudly. “I wish to see this for the rest of my life.”

He groans in agreement against your cunt, sliding his tongue through your folds and his hand trails up your leg, lifting it up onto his shoulder so he can lap at more of your flesh.

Marcus devours your cunt, his tongue flicking over your clit and through your folds, Moving down to push inside your cunt while he holds onto your hips like he is afraid you would push away. You never would. "Maritus." you whimper, knowing that he will be your husband as soon as he comes back a victor in war.

His body shudders beneath you at the title, desperately wanting it and for you to be his uxor. He wants you to be his forever. His fingers dig into your flesh as he laps at you, his jaw aching as he widens it but he wants you to fall apart above him.

Your leg shakes and your knee threatens to buckle. Only kept upright by the broadness of Marcus's body and his strong frame keeping you fixed in place. "I- It's so good." you whine, rocking your hips forward again and your stomach lurches before you cry out in pleasure.

He loves how you shake above him when you cum, falling apart for him. He’s desperate as he works you through your high. His fingers squeeze your ass and he kisses your clit when it becomes too much for you. He watches you, resting his glistening chin on your belly and his hand slides down to your thigh.

​​“Take me.” You beg breathlessly, sinking down to your knees and reaching under his tunic to wrap your fingers around his cock. “Show me that I’m yours. Give me the strength to carry on in your absence.”

Marcus grabs your ass, lifting you to hover you over his cock. “Put me inside your cunt, amor.” He orders, your thighs on either side of his hips. “Take what you want. It’s yours. I’m yours.”

You shift slightly, reaching down and grasping his cock again to press against your entrance. “I love you.” You promise, pressing your lips to his as you feel him pull you down on his length.

He moans into your mouth, his tongue sliding against yours as you sink down onto his cock. You feel incredible and he wishes he could legally call you his. His hands squeeze your ass and he helps to rock you on top of his cock.

You are riding his cock on the ground of your courtyard and you don't care. The water from the fountain trickles nearby but it is not nearly loud enough to cover your moans. "Marcus." Your fingers push into his hair. "May the Gods keep you safe and return you to me."

He’s desperate as he ruts up into you, his fingers digging into your flesh as he takes you. He prays that it won’t be the last time but he doesn’t know when it comes to war. He could easily be struck down and left to rot on the battlefield. For now, he’s going to be greedy and have as much of you as possible. “I’ll fight with every breath I have to return to you.” He vows, kissing your neck.

“Yes.” You moan softly, holding him as close as you can get. “My general. My warrior, fighting for me.” You know that he could be lost and you would spend your entire life waiting for him to return. “Just you, never will I marry anyone but you.” You vow.

Marcus groans, knowing that might be an impossible promise but his heart pounds at hearing it. “Mine.” He growls, his cock twitching inside you as he scrapes his knees while thrusting up into you, his grip on your ass helping you rock on top of him.

Your coupling is fierce and passionate, both of you taking and giving all of yourselves to the other. Your gasps breathed into his mouth and you don’t care if the servants tell your father. You are Marcus’s and you will remain that way. “I love you.” Your strangled cry comes as your world shatters, body drowning in waves of pleasure as your cunt clamps down around him. “Stay inside.” You manage.

“Fuck. Are you sure?” Marcus grunts, not wanting to leave you with child while he is gone fighting. “Yes. Yes. It’s safe. I just bled.” You promise and he groans, his hips aching as he thrusts into you, his knees scratched up but he doesn’t care as he thrusts until he stills, his cock twitching as he paints your walls for the first time.

It feels perfect. The heat of his seed flooding your womb has you whimpering and for a moment; you wish that the gods will let you have his child even though you know it’s not possible. Not before you are married to him. Your father would be furious.

Marcus kisses you, wanting to possess all of you, but it’s not possible. He has to earn you. He has to become good enough for you. Even if it’s not you putting those perimeters in. “Amor.” He murmurs, caressing your back, “you must take the tea.”

“I will.” You promise, cupping both of his cheeks and kissing him softly on the lips. “Our children will never question their parentage.” You murmur. “I will carry your children as your uxor.” You kiss him again. “May the gods keep you safe.” You pull away and you take the ring on your index finger off and reach for his hand. “My love travels with you. This ring was given to me by Maximus when he was general of the Southern Legions, now it will be yours as you command your men.” You promise and put the ring on his pinkie. 

He looks down at the ring and his heart pounds. He wishes he could stay with you. Be your Maritus and spend his life with you but he can’t. He has duties, he has to earn you. He kisses you again, desperate and knowing this. Hold on the last time. He murmurs your name and holds you close until you hear footsteps and you scramble off of him, his cum dripping down your thigh but concealed by your robes.

Quickly flipping your top back up, you clip it into place with the pin and stand next to Marcus as your father comes out into the courtyard. “Acacius.” He hums. “It seems you are always in my home.”

Marcus stands straight, praying nothing is out of place and he nods to your father. “Senator.” He greets him and he hums, glancing between you and Acacius. “Shouldn’t you be preparing to leave for war.” He tilts his head and he nods, “yes, I came here to say goodbye to your daughter.” Your father nods, “very well. Say goodbye and be on your way. We are due to the palace to see the Emperors for a feast.” He raises his eyebrows at you and steps out the room, allowing you to say goodbye to Marcus.

“I would rather be going with you than feast with the emperors.” You promise him, reaching up to caress his cheek once more before you kiss him. “Fight hard and come home to me, General.”

Marcus nudges his nose against yours, “be good, amor, and I’ll be back before you know it. I’ll be yours. And you’ll be mine and nothing…no one will part us.” He vows, turning his head to kiss your palm before he lowers it from his face. He stares at you, wanting to commit your features to memory, knowing that’s what will carry him through the tough journey ahead. He nods and steps back, knowing that he has to leave or he never will. He bows his head, “I’ll be seeing you, uxor.” He promises and leaves your home, his stomach twisting with the desire to earn your hand.

**** 

Marcus is home. Your father had announced that the General would be honored in a series of games and feasts, making your heart pound in anticipation. He was coming home a hero. Finally worthy of your hand by his own imagined standards. It has been years since he was home for more than a week. Never enough time to marry or do more than spend a few hours wrapped up in one another. The twin emperors constantly sent him off to war in the name of Rome. Time has passed and still you have refused your father’s suggestions of finding a husband. There is only one man you want. You dress carefully and make sure that your father brings you to the parade to watch your future uxor receive his honors from the emperors.

Marcus waves to the crowd who scream and cheer, throwing tokens and flowers towards him, but he feels numb. War is brutal. War is vicious and he feels like a fraud for returning home in glory when so many men's beds are empty. The chariot stops and he waves to the crowd before he makes his way up the steps. The crowd cheers and he sees the emperors standing there waiting for him. He bows his head once he's there and he clasps his hands together while the golden laurel is placed on his head.

You watch, standing beside your father from the group of senators that have gathered. Pride bursting in your chest as the men whisper about Marcus’s accomplishments and his victories in the name of Rome.

The Emperors grin, clapping their hands, "now we feast!" They declare and Geta spins to face the group of senators. Marcus follows his gaze, his eyes widening at the sight of you standing there. You look as gorgeous as the day he left you standing in your courtyard. He murmurs your name, his eyes drifting to your father who bows his head to the accomplished general.

You smile, beaming as your father shows Marcus respect. “Father-“ you start and he sighs softly. “We will discuss your future later.” He reminds you. “Now is not the time. There is a feast planned and the emperors will be sorely upset if attention is not paid properly.”

Marcus is escorted to the feast without being able to approach you but he knows he will have an opportunity when the feast is in full swing. He will leave before the emperors begin their favored orgy. “To General Acacius!” Geta toasts and everyone raises their cups. You are a few seats down from Marcus who has been seated next to Lucilla. “To your safe return.” She adds and clinks her cup with Marcus’s.

You raise your cup in toast to honor Marcus, watching him with a yearning that makes your entire body ache. As soon as you can, you will whisk him away for a proper reunion. Lucilla leans in and murmurs to Marcus, but his eyes flicker towards you, making you nod slightly at him and smile.

Lucilla leans closer to Marcus and he stiffens a little at her proximity. “I need to speak with you, General.” She murmurs and Marcus frowns, his gaze trailing over to you as you sit beside your father looking even more beautiful than the day he left you to go to war. “Very well. We can speak.” He murmurs, “what do you wish to discuss, my lady?”

Lucilla takes a deep breath, her eyes darting towards the emperors before looking back at the brave and daring General. She had heard of his conquests for Rome and how fiercely loyal the men were becoming to him. It was good now that Maximus was gone and her life was in turmoil. “I fear that I am in grave danger, General.” She murmurs quietly, leaning in and laying her hand on his arm. “I need your help. I need you to marry me.”

Marcus frowns, glancing down at her hand before his eyes flick back up to hers. He is shocked at her request and he glances across the table to where you are seated next to your father. “I cannot. I am to marry another woman.” He murmurs, his dark eyes on her as her hand trembles. “The emperors wish to have me killed.” She whispers, “I need to take a husband. One who has power.” She confesses and Marcus nods, “let us speak in private. Later.”

You are curious to know what Lucilla is talking about with Marcus to put that frown on his face. His brows pinched together in concern. You take a sip of your wine and your attention is captured by the senator sitting next to you. “Your general must be eager to marry you.” Senator Graccus hums with a smirk on his face.

The feast is in full swing and soon the whores are being brought in for the emperors and their guests. “Escort me home, General.” Lucilla orders and Marcus glances at you before he nods, standing up and offering his arm. He can feel eyes on him as he escorts her through the crowd and soon he’s standing outside her courtyard. “What is this about, my lady?” He demands, his stomach twisting.

“Caracalla and Geta are suspicious of my influence over the senate.” She explains. “They are not satisfied by Lucius’ disappearance and have decided that I should be dealt with.” She shudders delicately. “The fact that they are my younger brothers does not mean much, and I need the protection of your rank.”

Marcus knows that Lucilla is the reason why the emperors haven’t taken out the senate to be dictators. They know she would tell the people of Rome about their crimes if the senate was removed. “I understand your dilemma, my lady, but I am to marry the woman I have promised my life to. She has waited years for my return. We were lovers before I left for war. I am hers, body and soul, and I cannot betray her.”

Lucilla sighs and walks towards the gate of her villa. The large, palatial home that seems more of a prison than a respite. “Then I am doomed.” She murmurs softly. “There is nothing I can offer you? Everything I have will be yours. My influence yours, my lands and coins, servants. I would willingly give them to you for the protection of your name.”

Marcus sighs, his heart torn and he thinks of you. “My mother was your tutor. I knew your father, I knew Maximus. You have been a constant in my life and I prayed to the gods for your son to be our next emperor. A fair and honest leader. That is not our fate. We must save Rome from the emperors. I fear their lust for power and hunger for land will never be satiated. I do not wish to see you dead.” He says, his shoulders slumping slightly as he knows what he must do, even if it’s against his heart.

There is a glimmer of hope as Lucilla turns towards you. “Yes?” She asks softly. “I know that I am asking much of you.” She murmurs your name, “has been awaiting your return to Rome with the eagerness of a new bride. I would not ask if it did not possibly mean the future of our people.” She turns towards the city, swallowing slightly. “Tell me what you are thinking, Acacius.” She begs. “Once my father and Maximus trusted you, and I trust you now. If there is something else that would save me, let me know.”

Marcus frowns, torn on what to do. He promised you that he’d marry you as soon as he returned from war. Yet he must protect Lucilla if he has to prevent Rome from suffering at the hands of the twins. “I- I will marry you, but I need her. I cannot live without her.”

Lucilla nods. “I understand, I would not wish to keep you apart.” She is somewhat resigned to the fact that she will never have a husband who loves her, but to have a man admit that he needs someone else stings her vanity slightly. “I will ask that she join my household, perhaps a companion?”

Marcus knows that you will not be satisfied with the arrangement and if you do not wish to follow him to her household, he will understand. It will kill him to let you go but he is being selfish by marrying Lucilla to save the Roman Empire. It’s a noble calling but one that breaks his heart because he cannot marry the woman he loves.

“Then you will do it?” Lucilla asks softly, wanting to make sure that they both understand. “I will.” Marcus agrees and she steps towards him and leans in, turning her head when he pulls back slightly to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.” She murmurs softly. “I would not ask if the situation was not dire and I will make sure that your lover knows that she is welcomed in your bed more than I.”

Marcus takes her hands in his hand, shakes his head. “I am doing this for Rome. Please accept my apologies, my lady, you are a beautiful woman but I will not be sharing your bed. I will only share my bed with the woman I love. She has waited many moons for my return and I owe her my body and my soul. You can have my name and my title, but the rest of me belongs to her.”

“You are an honorable man.” Her smile is slightly bittersweet and she squeezes his hands before she pulls away. “My wish is that the emperors will curb their excess and gluttony to become the leaders that Rome needs, but I do not see that happening. I hope that you know that I serve the people of Rome and sacrifice much for her.”

Marcus nods, “the Emperor’s are sick with both disease and greed for power. We must serve Rome for strength and honour“ Lucilla agrees and Marcus kisses the back of her hand before he bowels his head and leaves her villa. You must have returned from the feast by now so he makes his way through the city until he approaches your villa. Your father is likely still deep in his cups, but he slips to your room and knocks on your window, hoping you are still awake.

It had disturbed you when Marcus left the feast without a word to you, but you had been sent home by your father before the orgy began. Knowing that despite the knowledge you are not pure, you still have a reputation to maintain. You had been reading some scrolls to distract yourself, drinking a cup of wine when you hear someone outside your window. Making you smile as you stand and move to the curtains. “The conquering hero returns.” You murmur softly, smiling as he smirks. “Have you come to finally claim your prize?”

Marcus smiles up at you through your window and gestures for you to open it so he can climb into your room. Reminded of the times he would do that before he left to go to war. “What is my prize?” He teases, knowing he has to tell you the news but for a moment, he wants to pretend he’s returning to you.

You reach out and caress the decorative armor that covers his chest. “Me.” You hum. “However you want me.” You bite your lip and flutter your lashes up at him. “My father will have no problem accepting the lauded general as the man who marries his daughter.”

Marcus sighs, reaching for you to drag you into his armored chest. “Amor. I would marry you this second if we had a priest but I- I have a duty to Rome. You own me. Body and soul. Yet I find myself unable to give you my name.” You frown and he presses his forehead against yours so he doesn’t have to see your face when he says “Lucilla has asked me to be her husband.”

“What?” You frown and try to pull away but Marcus tightens his hold on you. “Why you? Why now?” You demand, starting to choke up as tears fill your eyes. Your love, your soulmate is going to marry Lucilla? After all the plans and working towards the future that you had both done? “Do you- you don’t want me to be your wife?”

Marcus shakes his head and your eyes widen, "no. No. I want you to be my wife more than anything. You know it's been my cause. What I have fought so hard for. But Amor, there is more than us. The Empire...she cannot be led into destruction by the emperors. Lucilla...we must find her son. The rightful heir. We must restore fairness and strength and honor to Rome. To do that, Lucilla must live and she is threatened by the emperors. She has no protector. She needs a husband and my status will protect her. If we are to be wed, if we want children...there has to be a Rome for them to grow up in. Otherwise, we are signing their death before they are even born."

“Children?” You choke out and pull away from him to rush back to your cup of wine. “You would have children with Lucilla, not me. She will be your wife, not me.” You chuckle unhappily and take a large gulp of your drink, wishing you had stayed at the feast.

Marcus shakes his head, cupping your cheeks, “I want to have children with you. I want you to be my wife but I can’t do that without protecting Rome from the emperors. We have no future if they are unrestrained.”

His words chill you, making you sigh as you pull away. “I understand.” You murmur, hating that your dreams are being crushed under the sandals of fate.

“I spoke to Lucilla about you. She said you can come live with us. As her companion but you’ll spend every night in my bed. I know I am asking you to love me from the shadows, to essentially be my whore, but I’ll make sure you are cared for. That you never want for anything.”

“Your whore.” You close your eyes and bite your lip. You had dreamed of being his wife, carrying his children and his name proudly. Now, you would be his whore. You had once told him that you would take him however you could have him. “My father would not be happy. He knows that we have been together, that I am not pure.”

“I will let you go. If you do not wish to accompany me in this journey but we have come so far. I love you. My heart is yours. Will always be yours. I need to do this. For Rome. For our future. It won’t be forever. Lucilla has promised a divorce once Lucius is found and the twins are defeated.”

You frown, hating the idea of being apart from him after so long. You step closer to him and reach up. His dark eyes are focused on you and you can tell that if you were to strike him, he would let you. Instead, you caress his cheek. “I have always been yours.” You remind him. “I played your whore since the first time I let you between my thighs and if that is how I have to keep you? Then I will be her companion.”

“You’ve never been my whore. You’re been my lover. My goddess. The one who owns every ounce of my form. I am yours, amor. In every way but name. And one day, my name will be yours too. I love you.” He vows, leaning in to kiss you softly. “I shall speak with your father. If he doesn’t allow it then I will understand. He wants what is best for you and you deserve a life where you are the lady of the house. Not a life spent in the shadows with me. I wish I could proclaim to Rome that you are mine and I am yours but I must serve the empire. I will marry Lucilla and, pray to gods, you will be by our side until we can be one.”

“I will do whatever I must to stay beside you.” You murmur softly, pressing into him and leaning closer to kiss his lips. “Now, take your spoils, General.”

Marcus feels wrong taking you without giving you his ring but he desperately needs you. Imagined this exact moment so many times when he was fighting to survive, aching after taking the lives of too many men to count. He surges forward to kiss you, groaning into your mouth as he slides his hands down to squeeze your ass.

This is the Marcus you have been eager to have back. The passionate one, the one that is desperate for you. Your own fingers start to tear at the ties to his armor, wanting it off of his frame so you can touch the man underneath the solid image. There has been a statue of Marcus placed close to your bathhouse and you often think of how much it looks like him but does not feel like him. He is soft and strong, not unyielding like the marble image of him.

He lets his armor drop and grabs it to set it on the floor, letting you work on removing his sandals, untying them and his wrappings until you are reaching for the hem of his tunic. “I am scarred. More than before.” He warns you, not wanting you to be upset by the injuries that are haunting his body.

“More of you to kiss.” You promise, believing that every scar on his body was proof that he fought to come home to you. “My general.” You slowly lift his tunic off his body and groan in arousal at the sight of him. Strong and soft, his cock is jutting out from his body, already hard and you tenderly caress the scar in his side. “Be more careful, amor.” You whisper, leaning down to kiss it gently. “You need to come home to me.”

Marcus wishes more than anything that he could claim you as his wife in this very second, but he has always struggled with his desire to do the right thing over his own desires. He must marry Lucilla to protect Rome otherwise his own selfishness or ultimately lead to the demise of everyone within the empire.“I have come home to you, my love. No matter what happens, remember that every part of me is yours. I carried your ring with me into battle and that is why I am still here today.”

You know that Marcus had visited the baths before the feast so you don’t hesitate to sink to your knees in front of him. The ring is still on his finger and you smirk as you reach out to grasp his cock and roll the foreskin back to reveal the leaking and neglected tip. “Then let me give you your reward for coming home to me.” You coo before you lean forward and wrap your lips around him.

His chest heaves when you take him into your mouth. Marcus has not been with a woman since he was in your bed. He has taken himself in hand and ensured his celibacy and dedication to you, imagining how sweet the feel of you will be after so long and he was right. “Fuck.” He pants, his chin resting on his chest as he watches you take what you want from him.

You hum in agreement, enjoying the salty, musky taste of him, the oils that had perfumed his bath mixing with his natural scent and you hollow your cheeks to take him deeper. Wanting him to unravel for you, to release all the tension and frustrations from your time apart on you. Reaching up, you grasp his ass and rock him forward into your mouth as you look up at him.

“Fuck. Your mouth. I’ve missed it more than anything. I’ve missed you, amor. Gods, you are my deity. I worship you.” He promises and moans your name, caressing your cheek.

You giggle slightly but you don’t pull away. Pressing deeper until your nose is buried in the wiry hair at the base of his cock. Swallowing around him again just to hear him groan your name before you slowly start to bob your head.

You’ve always been so damn good at this. Especially since you’ve only ever touched him. You know exactly what he wants because he was the one to show you. He watches you with dark eyes, groaning your name as you let him push down your throat with every thrust.

It’s sloppy, tears leaking out of your eyes and saliva running down your chin, but you don’t pull away. You want him to fuck your throat, to use you like he needs. He will make sure that you are pleasured, you have no doubt about that. He never leaves you unsatisfied.

He grunts, his cock twitching in your mouth as you sloppily take him into your mouth. It’s messy and he fucking loves it. Grabbing the back of your head, he keeps you still so he can rock into your mouth, your eyes on him and he groans your name. It doesn’t take long until he starts to spill down your throat.

The first time Marcus cums after returning from war, it seems like he never will stop. Rope after salty rope spills down your throat and pushes out of your mouth when you can’t swallow fast enough, making your cunt ache with anticipation as you drink him down.

He feels wrecked as you take all he can give. His eyes squeezed shut while your name tumbles from his lips. “Fuck. Amor, I need - come here.” He growls, grabbing your arms to pull you up from the floor after you release his cock and he presses his lips to yours, fingers searching for the pin that keeps your dress on your body.

You groan into the kiss, hands stroking his body as he unclips your dress and lets it fall to the floor. “Marcus.” You moan softly. “Take me to bed.”

He nods, his hands grabbing you to pull you close as he walks you backwards towards your bed. “I’ve missed you so much.” He murmurs, kissing your shoulder as he lowers you down onto the bed. Kneeling between your thighs, he presses kisses everywhere he can reach until he kisses down your chest to take your nipple into his mouth.

Your gasp is loud, fingers tangling into his hair and you arch up into his mouth. Offering yourself to him like you have every time you have been with him. “Acacius.” You whine, loving how he bites down and then soothes the pain with his tongue.

Marcus groans, kissing along your skin until he’s taking your other nipple into his mouth, biting down. He kisses down your stomach, pushing your thighs apart with his shoulders until he is settled between your thighs. “Gods I’ve missed this.” He confesses, inhaling your scent.

You moan softly. “I’ve missed your tongue between my thighs as well.” You tease, looking down at his eyes as his lashes flutter slightly. “Your cock, inside me.”

Marcus groans, loving how you press his cheeks between your thighs. He wastes no time sliding his tongue through your folds. He loves your taste, your tang as he samples the arousal he’s missed for so long. “Fuck, taste so good, amor.” He murmurs, diving back in to slide his tongue through your cunt.

Your own moan is loud and lusty, approving of the way the dives into you. Your lashes flutter but you want to watch him as he pleasures you. The women in the baths can’t compare to the eagerness of your lover as he devours your cunt. You had not been going for the past months, wanting to wait until your Marcus was home to cum again, so every swipe of his tongue quickly works you up.

Marcus’s fingers dig into your flesh as he laps at you. He groans as he pushes his tongue into your cunt. He loves how you moan his name and he’s dreamed of this so many times. He loves it. He loves you. He wants to do this for the rest of his life.

He laps at you and you feel the familiar knot starting to curl in your stomach. “Marcus.” You pant softly, reaching down and tugging his hair slightly to pull him back up to your clit. “I’m so close, amor.”

​​He needs you to fall apart for him. He wants to spend hours between your thighs, ruining you and claiming you after he’s been gone for so long. He moans into your flesh, his lips wrapping around your clit to push you over the edge.

The strong sucks to your sensitive flesh tips you over the edge and you feel your body lurch up as you cry out. Your cunt clenches around the two fingers he quickly pushed inside you and you soak them while you shatter.

When you cry out, he groans, his cock hardening against your bed as you soak his face. He works you through it, his hands caressing your hips, and he loves your sounds, your taste. So many memories brought back after so long away from you.

Marcus doesn’t pull away until you are shuddering and sobbing as you squeeze your thighs closed. “So good.” You urge him up to press your lips to his. “I love you, amor.”

He slides up your body, wasting no time in pressing his lips to yours. You don't care about the tang of your cum on his tongue as it slides into your mouth and his cock is hard, pressing against your thigh.

“Insatiable.” You grin against his mouth and reach between you to cup his cock. “I want you inside me.” You moan. “I just finished my bleed so I want you to fill me up. I’ll drink the tea, but I need you to claim me.”

Marcus knows he should say no. He shouldn’t risk you especially when he cannot take your hand like he desires but he also can’t deny you. He groans and takes himself in hand, shifting up until he notches himself at your entrance.

The first push of him inside you is always the best feeling in the world. “Oh Marcus.” You lift your legs onto his hips and wrap them around his waist. “Amor, I have missed this. Missed you everyday.”

He breathes you in, “I love you. I will always love you. I’m yours.” He vows, “thought of you every moment I was away. When I went on the battlefield, I fought to come back to you.”

You wrap your arms around him and pull him close, wanting his whole weight on you. “I will always be here for you. I want to be here for you. Your sanctuary.”

He loves how you feel under him as he rocks into you. “You will always be by my side.” He promises, “I love you.” He murmurs, kissing along your neck and he sighs, feeling like he’s returned home.

Every thrust is a proclamation of his love for you. You know Marcus is torn between his duty to Rome and his love for you. You cannot make him choose. “Amor.” You whisper, stroking his back as he moves over you. “My love. I am always yours. This life and the next.”

“I’ll give you all of me when Rome is free.” He vows, “and I’ll love you until the day I die.” He promises, his cock twitching inside you as he makes love to you. “I’d die for you.” He breathes into your mouth as he kisses you.

“Never have to die for me.” You know he would, though. He would do anything for you, just like you would do anything for him. You are, you are giving up your vision of the future because you know he needs to do this. Rocking your hips up to meet his thrusts, you kiss him back fiercely, moaning into his mouth.

He wants to feel you cum around his cock again and his hand slides down your side until he’s gripping your thigh. He loves how you moan when he adjusts your leg so he sinks deeper into you.

“Acacius.” You gasp when he presses against something inside you. “There, just like that.” You beg, your nails starting to dig into his shoulders. If you leave half moons embedded into his skin, you will be proud to see the marks on him.

He would wear your mark everywhere, show all of Rome that he is yours, but he has a duty to fulfil. He groans and thrusts into you a little faster, wanting to hear you cry out his name. He focuses on that spot, rocking into you. “Cum for me, amor. I want to feel it.”

You whine his name, your body reacting to his demand. Eyes closing as he rocks you closer until you are sobbing out his name and your cunt clenches around his cock.

“Fuck.” He curses at the way you soak him, squeezing his cock like a goddamn vice. He shifts his knees, grabbing your other thigh to push it back and he lifts your calves over his shoulders. Sinking deeper into you, his jaw is clenched and he wants you to fall apart one more time before he cums.

All you can do is take him. He has you pinned down as his hips start to drive harshly forward. Hammering into you at the perfect angle to have your toes curl as you squeal.

His eyes are focused on you, the way you throw your head back, and he growls, wanting to possess you. He thrusts into you over and over, your cunt squelching as you take what he gives you. “That’s it, amor. Fuck, you feel so good.”

You can’t even talk, just moan as he drives into your body. Rocketing you higher as you cling to him. He’s determine to see you cum again, not stopping until you are seizing up underneath him again and screaming. “Marcus!”

You cum for him again, your juices hitting his stomach as you convulse beneath him. He grunts, nostrils flaring as he rocks into you, and it only takes a few thrusts for him to bury himself deep. Your cunt is squelching as he paints your walls with his seed, uncaring if it takes. You belong to him.

**** 

“You want me to be present?” You frown slightly and look past Marcus to see Lucilla watching, her hands twisted together and her eyes showing how worried she is. Marcus had insisted you come with him to the estate but you had imagined they would speak their vows in private with other witnesses beside his lover.

“I need you to be there.” He pleads, his hands finding yours to squeeze them. Lucilla understands that you are the woman he loves and she doesn’t need Marcus’s love, she just needs his status and protection. You bite your lip, knowing it will not be easy to stand by and watch your lover marry another woman after you’ve dreamed of being his uxor. You nod, “okay” you murmur reluctantly and Marcus brings your hand up to kiss it. “Thank you, amor.”

You can tell that Lucilla is uncomfortable, several senators gathered to watch Marcus and the former emperor’s daughter marry. You nod respectfully to the general and move over to where your father is standing, looking less than pleased but resolute. He had initially disagreed with the idea of you becoming Lucilla’s companion, but you had reminded your father that you would simply do as you wished without his permission if needed. In the end, he had begrudgingly given his approval, though you know he is unhappy.

Marcus takes Lucilla's hands in his, his palms a little sweaty but she doesn't seem to care. She offers him a soft smile and he relaxes a little. The priest begins to speak but Marcus keeps his gaze fixed on his new wife, knowing that he wants to look at you. He manages to speak his vows while Lucilla squeezes his hands and soon, the priest declares them maritus and uxor. Marcus leans in to press a soft kiss to Lucilla's lips for the crowd and he lowers his hands from hers, his stomach twisting with the uncertainty of the future.

You manage to not cry during the ceremony, keeping your head held high and an almost pleased expression on your face even as your heart breaks. You know why he is doing this, but it is still hard to watch your lover marry another woman.

The feast begins soon after the marriage contract is signed and Marcus wants to find you, pull you close and reassure you that this is just the beginning. He can't though, he has to put up with the pretense and he is seated beside Lucilla, sipping his cup when the music stops. "Ah, General. Lucilla. Congratulations are in order." Geta grins and claps as he strides into the room unannounced, followed by Caracalla who has his monkey on his shoulder.

You frown at the appearance of the emperors, hiding your disgruntled expression behind your cup. They are the reason that you are unable to be married to Marcus now. Why this feast is for him and Lucilla.

Caracalla grins, gesturing for a cup of wine which is promptly placed in his hand. He steps towards Marcus and Lucilla. "Congratulations to the happy couple. Such a sudden wedding but my brother and I love romance and you two...well, two of the powerful figures in the empire. Apart from me and my brother of course." Geta grins, raising his glass, "to the happy couple. May their marriage be without complications." The emperor's eyes flick over to you.

You look away from the emperor, aware that the rumors of your relationship with Marcus have been often whispered about since the announcement that he would marry. You lift your cup. “To the happy couple.” You parrot softly, turning back to meet his gaze steadily.

“Senator Brutus,” Geta smirks at you before cutting his eyes over to your father. “Does this mean that your daughter is finally willing to consider a marriage match?” He asks before tilting his head towards Marcus. “The senator’s daughter was most stubborn about not marrying yet.” He explains, like everyone in the room isn’t aware of the reasons why you had waited.

Your father clears his throat, “perhaps but she has been asked to be a companion for the lovely bride.” Your father gestures to Lucilla. “She will remain in this home until she finds her match. She is my only daughter and I want her to marry for love.” He says and Caracalla scoffs, aware that the General is getting to have his cake and eat it.

You act like you are not being discussed and take a sip of your wine, leaning over to whisper to Graccus. “The senate is convening soon, I hope?” You murmur.

Your father nods, “yes. We have spoken to everyone we trust.” He whispers as the emperors walk over to Marcus and Lucilla to offer their congratulations. Marcus offers them a stiff smile and bows his head, “emperors. Thank you for gracing our marriage with your divine presence.” He says stiffly and Lucilla places her hand on his arm, “it is an honor. We thank you and you are welcome to whatever you want from our table.”

Geta hums, arching a brow and smirks at Marcus. “I seriously doubt that the General would appreciate what I would wish to have from this table.” He jokes.

Marcus clenches his jaw but offers a stiff smile while Lucilla squeezes his bicep. “And what do you wish to have from this table, Caesar?” Marcus inquires despite knowing he won’t like the answer.

Turning towards you, he points dramatically. “Her.” The room goes completely silent until the emperor starts to giggle like he’s said something hilarious. Others around the room start to chuckle quietly so they don’t offend the temperamental ruler.

Marcus inhales deeply, trying to refrain from standing up and wrapping his hands around the throat of the impertinent ruler. Instead, he chuckles, and tilts his head, “she is her own person. She can decide who she wants but I think you’ll find that she is unsuited to someone of your stature. You should have a princess or an empress.”

You hum in agreement. “You would find that I am boring, Caesar.” You admit. “I often sleep early in the evening and rise before the sun breaks over the horizon.” You know that the emperors prefer to keep late hours and are never awake before noon.

Caracalla smirks, “my brother needs someone who will force him to keep a more reasonable schedule. Perhaps having an early bird as his partner would make him a better Caesar.” Marcus’s eyes flick between you and the emperors, his heart beating and Lucilla squeezes his bicep again to keep him quiet.

You say nothing, just smile blandly at the emperors until Geta begins to laugh again. “I am teasing!” He cackles, clapping his hands together once before he snatches a cup of wine off the table, not caring whose it is. “You are far too mature to be my partner.” He snorts. “Or perhaps I am too merry?”

Marcus exhales shakily while Lucilla giggles, squeezing him to remind him to laugh, and he offers the emperors a stiff smile. Your father chuckles awkwardly and you giggle, pretending to be amused. “You are far too good for a woman like me.” You promise and Marcus wants to scoff but the stiff smile remains on his face.

“That I am.” Geta agrees haughtily and then decides that he is done amusing himself with your situation and drifts off. You breathe a sigh of relief and glance over at Marcus for a moment and look away guiltily when you find Lucilla watching you.

Marcus wants to go to you but he knows he can't. He looks at Lucilla whose eyes flick to him and she reaches for her cup of wine to take a sip. Marcus sighs, knowing that he has to fulfill his duty but he truly wishes you were sat beside him as his wife. "Let us celebrate the happy couple!" Geta cries, slapping his hand on the table and the gathering becomes rowdier.

You watch the scene, heart aching and yet you do not leave. You do not wish to give anyone a reason to gossip. You sip your wine and watch as the emperors get drunk and start to plot when you can politely leave.

Marcus is unsure about the wedding night, hoping Lucilla doesn’t want him to bed her. He sips his wine, trying to not get drunk and feel sorry for himself even though he put himself in this position. He sees you stand, making your way out into the courtyard and he can’t stop himself from standing up and following you.

Walking out into the gardens calms you, taking in the lush scenery and fresh air. The emperors have demanded that excess wine be brought in and essentially an orgy has begun.

Marcus approaches you once you are outside and he fiddles with the ring on his pinky. Your ring that you gave him before he left for war. “Amor.” He murmurs, “are you okay?”

You turn to see Marcus coming towards you, his expression cautious and you give him a small smile. “I will be.” You don’t brush aside his concern. “It has been an interesting day.”

Marcus sighs, “you’re not wrong there.” He steps closer to you, reaching out to caress the back of your arm. “I’m sorry you’ve had to watch this. Be present for this.” He murmurs, knowing he would have a hard time watching you marry another man.

“I know you are doing this for Rome.” You murmur, looking into his eyes. “I am jealous that she has your name.” You admit quietly. “The honor of being General Marcus Acacius’s wife, but I know that she doesn’t have your heart, your love.”

Marcus shakes his head, uncaring as he steps closer to cup your cheek. “She will only have my name. She will never have my soul, my heart, my body. That belongs to you. Always.” He vows, wishing he could give you more than that. “I wish it was you.”

“Are you sleeping with her tonight?” You ask softly, unsure if you want to hear the answer. “No.” You twist your head to find Lucilla standing on the edge of the courtyard. “He will be in your bed, your rooms have been set up. There is a secret passage that connects them so even the servants will not know.”

Marcus feels guilty for not being a true husband to Lucilla but he is doing this for her, to save her life. Not because he loves her. He nods, “I wish to have her in my bed tonight.” He says, gesturing to you.

You doubt Marcus sees it, but there is a flash of disappointment on Lucilla’s face before she smiles and nods. “Of course, maritus.” She hums softly. “Perhaps you are ready to leave the celebration? It is starting to become an orgy.”

Marcus nods, knowing you will not want to be present for that. “Yes, shall we retire?” He asks Lucilla, “we can tell people we wish to consummate our marriage in private.” He says, holding his arm out for her, “and my amor can retreat to her room.”

You fall back behind the couple, admiring your lover’s strong back and you understand completely why Lucilla Euler chose Marcus as her protector. You follow them back into the hall and yawn discreetly to give the impression that you are tired.

Marcus winces at the sight of the whores being brought in, your father and the other senators missing from the crowd now that the debauchery is beginning. Marcus strides over to the emperors with Lucilla on his arm, a forced smile on his face, “we are retiring. I have waited all day for my uxor.” The emperors turn their faces from the men and women kissing them to look at the general. “Of course. Of course. I hope you know you will struggle to fill her womb. She is old.” Geta says cruelly and Caracalla laughs, “yes. Good luck, Acacius.” Marcus clenches his jaw, hating how cruel the brothers are, but he doesn’t react, knowing that nothing good can come of it. “Come on, uxor. Let us retire.” He says, guiding her through the hall.

“You could still bear a child if you wish.” You murmur to your lover’s wife as he guides her away from the revelry behind you. “Perhaps you should find yourself a lover?”

Lucilla shakes her head, “I do not wish to be with child. They would only be a target for the emperors. I simply wish to find my son. Marcus can help me with that.” She says and you look at your lover who nods, “we will find him. He is the true emperor.” He whispers, knowing even breathing those words means treason.

Lucilla’s villa is larger than your father’s, her position and wealth unable to be undermined by the emperors - for now. You know that one of the reasons she has sought a marriage with Marcus was to be able to keep the things her father had given her. You seem to walk across the ends of the earth before you come to a set of doors. Lucilla pauses and turns back towards you. “This is to be your room.” She opens the door to reveal a luxuriously appointed room. “Come I will show you the passage.”

Marcus watches you as you enter the room, eyes wide at the luxury of the gold and garnet. He wanted you to be comfortable here, requesting Lucilla give you a beautiful space since you are sacrificing your security and your love for her protection. "It is gorgeous." You exhale and Marcus hums in agreement but he's not thinking about the room. Lucilla sees his gaze and smiles sadly, knowing she is the reason why tonight is not a celebration for you and Marcus. "I shall leave you." She says, making her way to the secret passage to go into the room next door.

You watch as the door slides shut with fascination but then you are distracted by Marcus coming behind you and wrapping his hands around your waist. “Amor.” He hums against your neck, making you shiver. “I love you, Acacius.”

He presses a soft kiss to your pulse, wishing tonight he could claim you as his wife, put his seed in you and watch you grow his child. He cannot. He will not make you his whore. "I love you." He whispers, breathing you in. "I will never be able to repay your selflessness. I would have never been able to watch you marry another."

You tilt your head and lean back against his broad chest. “It was difficult, but I am in your arms right now.” You point out, turning and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Now, I want you to make love to me. Show me how you feel.”

He leans in to nudge his nose against yours, his lips soon meeting yours as he walks you backwards to the bed. Lucilla lays in bed as she listens to your moan echoing down the passageway between the rooms and she wipes away the tear from her eye. She wants to be loved, to be protected, but she has married a man who wants another and she has to live with that. At least she will live.

**** 

Steam rises from the perfumed water as you sit and relax. Last night Marcus was vigorous and had pushed you beyond the normal bouts of sex. You ache deliciously and hum as you lean back and close your eyes. “More wine?” The question makes you open your eyes again, finding Lucilla standing on the edge of the baths, her dress out of place, but her hair is unadorned, like she had been coming to bathe herself. She nods to the cup on the ledge. “You seem to have drunk all yours.” She had been polite, kind even, but you have noticed that she seems sad and lonely. “Only if you pour yourself a cup and join me.” You offer, sitting up to make room for her in the deep water.

She smiles, appreciating you inviting her when you have been keeping to your room with Marcus every night for the past few months. She cannot lie. She has been lonely despite gaining a husband on paper. She reaches for the jug of wine, pouring you another cup and taking one for herself. She looks to her handmaid who comes forward to unclip her dress, helping it fall from her body so she can step into the bath.

Lucilla is gorgeous. You don’t look away, appreciating her form as she steps into the bath and groans at the heat. She is holding the cups and you reach out to steady her waist so she doesn’t slip as she joins you. “This is such a luxury.” You hum. “Normally I have to go to the public baths for conversation, but you and I can get better acquainted.”

Lucilla smiles, “I know. I am pleased that we can get to know each other more in private. I would like to know why my husband is so in love with you.” She offers you a wink, wanting you to know she’s being playful and not resentful. She hands you the cup and you take it while her handmaid leaves the baths to prepare the linens for Lucilla.

“We have been in love since he first became an officer.” You admit, smiling softly at the memory. “There was a feast and he found me in the courtyard because I was bored. I was reading instead of feasting.”

Lucilla chuckles, “you sound like me. I would sit in the gardens and read instead of attending the feasts my father held in honor of many people who have since died.” She sighs, her eyes full of memories and she takes a sip of wine. “I know you planned to marry Marcus. It was never my plan to take him from you but the emperors…they are wanting my blood.”

“I understand.” You bite your lip, watching as she looks down at her wine. “Are you disappointed he has not visited your bed? Even if you married him for safety?” You would understand if she was. Marcus is handsome, kind, loyal and has honor, rare traits in a Roman man these days.

“I’d be a fool to not see how handsome he is. He’s capable. He’s strong, and he’s loyal. I wouldn’t be a woman if I didn’t imagine him in my bed but he belongs to you in all ways but name. I am not the woman he desires and I would never demand it when I am taking away your Maritus for my own gain.” She confesses, glancing across the bath to avoid looking at you as she admits her deepest thoughts.

You hum, watching her for a moment and take a sip of your wine. “Have you ever had a woman as a lover?” You ask boldly, unsure because you have never seen her at an orgy or at the baths. Not that you attended many orgies.

She flusters, shaking her head, “no. Never. My brother - Commodus - he would’ve never allowed it. He was very…possessive over me.” She murmurs, knowing her brother would’ve killed anyone who touched her. “And Maximus was the love of my life. I wanted him to be my Maritus but we were not destined for each other.” She feels her chest tighten but there’s nothing else she can say.

“Amor, your maid told me you were-“ you twist your head to see Marcus stopped dead, slightly frozen as he stands completely nude. He had obviously sought to join you in the baths and is surprised by the presence of his uxor. You smile, glancing at Lucilla to find her staring at her wine intently and you bite your lip. “Amor, pour yourself a cup of wine and join us.” You beckon, sitting up so he can see your bare breasts. “We were just having the most interesting discussion.” You hum, smirking slightly.

Marcus isn't ashamed of his form but he does feel a little awkward standing naked before his uxor while his eyes take in the sight of your bare tits. He nods, reaching for a cup and filling it from the jug of wine. After taking a gulp, he steps into the water, noticing how Lucilla still doesn't look at him, and takes a seat next to you. He groans at the heat of the water on his constantly sore body.

You hum, reaching under the water to squeeze his thigh, signaling for him to listen before he reacts. “Your uxor and I were just getting better acquainted.” You inform Marcus. “Poor Lucilla, she has been twisting at the whims of the men in her life.” You shoot her a soft smile. “She hasn’t even had the pleasure of having a woman as a lover.” You take a sip of your wine and look at Marcus. “And now, we deny her the very man she is married to.”

Marcus frowns, looking over at Lucilla who averts her gaze from his chest. “She knows the arrangement. My body belongs to you, amor.” He says a little incredulously. “I know, Marcus, but Lucilla needs pleasure like everyone else. I wish to give it to her.” You explain and Marcus frowns, “do you want me to-?” He asks and you shake your head, “no. No. Not you. Me.” You declare and Lucilla’s head jerks up while Marcus’s eyes widen, “are you- are you certain?”

“I am.” You look over at Lucilla and lift a brow. “As long as your uxor doesn’t mind my touch.” You add softly, wanting her to have the power to reject your offer if she wishes. “Do you, Lucilla? Do you want to have me touch you, show you what it is like to have a woman between your thighs?”

Lucilla looks over at Marcus who stares back for a moment until he nods, giving her and you permission to do this if that is her wish. She bites her lip as her eyes flick back to you, “I want - yes. Show me.” She whispers, almost afraid to say the words out loud but she desperately wants it.

You smile, setting your cup down and leaning closer. Marcus shifts slowly, putting himself between the two of you so he can watch. “I have visited the baths many times while Marcus is away on campaign.” You explain, feeling his hand slide up your back and his large hand cup the back of your neck. Applying a little pressure to guide you forward. “He did not deny me pleasure and I know that wishes he had been able to watch.”

He has definitely imagined you while you're seeking pleasure in the baths, especially when he had his cock in his fist while he was away fighting. Lucilla licks her lips, gasping when Marcus's hand finds her neck, leaning her towards you, and his eyes darken as he watches the two women in his life come closer until their lips meet.

You reach out to hold onto Lucilla’s shoulder. “You really are beautiful.” You murmur, moving to start the kiss softly. Wanting her to relax against your lips and open up.

She inhales sharply, her stomach twisting with lust, and she surges forward to press her lips to yours. "You are both beautiful." Marcus murmurs, his cock twitching as he watches you react to her eager kiss. Your tongue playfully slides along her lower lip and she opens her mouth without hesitation.

Your cunt clenches in pleasure and your hand slides down from her shoulder to cup one breast. Enjoying the way she gasps at the feel of another’s touch, her nipple hardening against your palm while you kiss each other.

Marcus lowers his hands from the back of the women's necks to slide down, one hand on Lucilla's back, the other squeezing your ass as you lean forward. Her hands come up to grip your shoulders, enjoying your soft skin and moaning when you pinch her nipple.

You pull away from her kiss, smirking slightly as she chases your lips, but you turn your head and kiss along her jaw. “Watch your maritus.” You order her softly. “His eyes are dark, aren’t they?”

Lucilla nods as she looks at Marcus, his eyes hungry and eager. Something she only ever saw in Maximus's eyes. "My amor will take care of you. Let her show you how good she can be." He orders and Lucilla's eyes close when you kiss her neck, tilting her head to give you more access.

Your lips and teeth map her skin, loving how she gasps when you nip lightly. Moving down her chest until you are kissing the tip of her breast before pulling her nipple into your mouth while continuing to pinch the other one in your hand.

"Gods above." She moans, her hand caressing your cheek and Marcus smirks, sliding his hand up to cup your breast, pinching your nipple. You moan around her flesh and Marcus continues to harden at the beauty before him.

You know Marcus is enjoying watching. He has talked many times of visiting the baths with you, but it has never happened. Now you get to explore his uxor’s body and give her pleasure while he watches. You bite down gently and then pull sharply on it, making her whimper and her nails dig into your shoulders while you suckle.

She is lost in the touch since it's been so long since anyone touched her with this much care. You make her gasp and moan until her cunt is aching, needing more from you. Marcus caresses your back until he's cupping your neck to pull you back, still in charge. "She wants more, amor. Show her your mouth, show her how talented your tongue is." He orders, wanting to watch it.

Humming, you lick your lips in anticipation. “Sit on the edge of the bath.” You let go of her breast and guide her back to the edge. “Spread your legs wide and watch me.”

Marcus copies you, licking his lips as Lucilla nods, shifting out of the water to sit on the edge. Her cheeks flush as she spreads her thighs, exposing the thatch of curls between them while her heart thumps in anticipation.

“Very pretty.” You coo as you wade through the water to settle between her thighs. You urge her to slide to the edge and lean in to kiss her thigh.

Lucilla inhales sharply as you kiss her skin. She hasn't been touched like this in so long. Her chest heaves when you kiss higher and Marcus shifts closer, his hand caressing your back as he watches with rapture.

You hum, eyes flickering up to watch her face as you slowly lick into her folds. You have enjoyed the pleasures of other women, both giving and receiving in the baths and you want to share this with her. Marcus groans so loudly that it almost covers up Lucilla’s gasp of pleasure and you smirk slightly as you carve a path with your tongue through her sex.

Marcus watches in fascination, his dark eyes flicking between you and Lucilla as you sample her sex. His uxor tilts her head back, her eyes fluttering closed and he grunts, "keep your eyes on her. Watch her pleasure you."

His tone is commanding, Lucilla’s eyes popping open and she moans softly. You can tell she likes that Marcus had ordered her around and you know that you always enjoy it as well. Flicking your tongue over her clit makes her grab your shoulder and her hips rock forward, eager for more. You hum into her folds, obsessed with the taste of your lover’s wife.

Marcus groans, reaching down to squeeze his hard cock. You reach for his hand, dragging it away from his length and he grunts but you bring his hand to Lucilla's breast. He follows your silent order, squeezing her flesh and she moans, her back arching into his palm.

Your hands squeeze her hips, reaching back and holding her ass as you continue to devour her. Your own cunt aches with need but you ignore that. Wanting Lucilla to cry out and cum for you. Sucking her clit into your mouth, you watch your lover touch his wife for the first time.

Marcus is aching and he slides his free hand down your back, "let me fuck you, amor." He murmurs his request, needing you to experience pleasure too.

You pull away from Lucille’s clit, making her whine softly in protest. “Do you want to watch your maritus fuck me?” You ask her, not wanting her to be hurt if it is too much.

Lucilla nods, knowing she’s imagined how Marcus looks when he falls apart more times than she cares to admit. He is a handsome man and she has gotten lost in thoughts of him taking her as his wife physically. “Fuck her.” She orders Marcus who nods, groaning as he grips his cock and caresses your ass with his other hand. It doesn’t take long for him to notch himself at your entrance, pushing into you so you cry out into Lucilla’s cunt.

Marcus pushes deep inside you, throbbing already from how excited he is. He kisses along your shoulder as he grinds deep and you know he is watching you closely. “Gorgeous.” He groans, unable to believe that you are feasting on his uxor’s cunt while he fucks you. You groan in agreement, sliding your hand around to push two fingers deep into Lucilla’s cunt and are rewarded by her immediately clamping down on them.

Her cry echoes through the marbled walls, making Marcus twitch inside you. His hands reach around to squeeze your tits as you moan into Lucilla’s folds, working her through it with soft pumps of your digits. “Beautiful.” Marcus murmurs, “both of you. So fucking beautiful.”

She’s beautiful, head tilted back as she rides out her pleasure, she looks like a goddess. Lucilla has always been beautiful to you, but she’s breathtaking right now. You clench down around Marcus and make him hiss because of how tight you get. Slowly pulling away from her engorged folds and licking your lips when she gasps as the pleasure becomes too much.

Marcus watches Lucilla try to catch her breath and he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. “You have wrecked her, amor.” He smirks and starts to rock into you again. Lucilla watches as her legs dangle in the water.

“She is lovely to wreck.” You pant, twisting your head and looking back into your lover’s eyes. “Taste her from my lips.” You demand, reaching up to drag his mouth to yours for a passionate kiss.

Marcus groans, his tongue sliding against yours as he pauses his rocking into your cunt. You moan, cupping his cheek, and Lucilla watches in fascination. “Make her cum.” She orders Marcus with eyes wide.

You know Marcus has no issue following that particular order. His hands pull you back against his chest and he cups your tits, squeezing them as he starts to thrust into you with sharp snaps of his hips.

He grunts, jaw clenched in concentration as he rocks into you. He loves how you cry out, your cheek resting on Lucilla’s thigh and she strokes your cheek, “tell me how he feels.”

You moan softly, nuzzling into her touch. “His cock is thick. From the first time that he took my purity, he feels like he’s going to split me open.” You pant out breathlessly. “The ridges of his cock scrap my cunt perfectly, making it feel like the best and most maddening sensation in the world. It’s addictive.”

Lucilla moans, imagining how that feels. She knows she is unable to conceive a child for her Maritus. She has not bled in many years. “I want him to pleasure you. Make you feel as good as you made me feel.”

Marcus grunts. “I will.” He vows, pinching your nipples and tugging on them to make you whine his name. Lucilla strokes your cheek. “Cum for your lover.” She encourages softly.

You can’t deny her and Marcus groans your name when you clamp down on his cock. Your cry echoing like Lucilla’s in the marbled room and Marcus hisses at the way you grip his cock in your walls.

Pleasure floods your body, nearly blacking everything out but the way your cunt feels pulsing around his cock. Your fingers dig into Lucilla’s thighs and you moan. “Marcus, fuck her.” You beg softly. “Fill her up. You can’t - you can’t fill me up now but you can let her drip your seed.”

Marcus's eyes widen and he caresses your back, "are you sure?" He asks, knowing that he promised you his body would be yours. His heart is yours. You nod, "yes. Fuck her. She wants it. I want to see it." You plead and he pulls out of you, looking at Lucilla. "Are you certain, uxor?" He asks, reaching down to squeeze his cock.

She looks stunned as she bites her lip. “I- I would- I have imagined you in my bed but I do not wish to cause any more harm.” She confesses and you smile, reaching up to cup her cheek. “We will explore this new part of our lives together.” You promise before turning back to Marcus. “You know how I love you. It will not change that.”

Marcus nods, shuffling closer, and he wishes to please both you and Lucilla. He slides the head of his cock through her folds and she moans. It's been so long since a man touched her like this. He hisses as he starts to push into her, your hand caressing his back.

You watch, fascinated by the way Lucilla’s jaw drops and her head rolls back in complete bliss as Marcus fills her. Glancing down to watch his cock inch into her cunt, not feeling betrayed or jealous. You know that Marcus loves you, and it’s intoxicating to see him from this perspective. “How does he feel?” You caress her side as he bottoms out.

Lucilla's chest heaves until she lifts her head to look at you, "thick. He's stretching me out. It's been so long." She confesses and Marcus groans, reaching for you to drag your lips to his when he starts to rock into his uxor.

You groan against his lips, opening up for him to slide his tongue into your mouth. Participating in the act between husband and wife and you reach up to cup Lucilla’s breast again. You break away from Marcus’s mouth and turn to his uxor, wanting a kiss from her as well.

Lucilla presses her lips to yours, tongue sliding against yours as she moans, loving how Marcus stretches her out. “Amor.” Marcus groans, his hand sliding down to cup your cunt, his fingers finding your clit as he rocks into his uxor.

“Marcus.” You moan into Lucilla’s mouth. He can pleasure two women at the same time. You roll your hips down into his hand and cling to his uxor.

He wants to hear you moan too, his fingers working your clit like he knows how and Lucilla slides her hand to cup your breast, pinching your nipple while Marcus rubs your clit while rocking into Lucilla with precise thrusts.

“Perfect.” You gasp out, eyes slipping closed as you continue to kiss Marcus’s wife as he fucks her. “Touch her like you are touching me.” You order your lover, wanting her to cum on his cock so he can feel it.

Marcus groans, nodding as he rubs your clit while he pushes into Lucilla. He wants to see her cum. She’s sacrificed so much for the empire. She deserves some pleasure. “Fuck. I need you to cum for me.” He groans, his other hand finding her clit to rub with his thumb.

He’s talking to both of you. Marcus rocketing you both towards orgasm as he works you up on his fingers. You kiss Lucilla again, smirking against her lips. “Cum, lover.” You order softly. “Your maritus wishes to feel it.” Your stomach pulls tight and you gasp when he strokes your clit again. “Cum with me.”

Lucilla can't hold back and she cries into your mouth when she falls apart, clamping down around his cock and Marcus hisses, his fingers working your clit while his other hand keeps her shaking through her orgasm. "Cum for me, amor." He growls, needing to see you cum before he fills Lucilla up.

His gruff order is issued through clenched teeth, telling you that he is barely holding back. Both of them are so gorgeous and you cry out in pleasure as you come apart.

He watches you fall apart, leaning into Lucilla and he groans, pulling his hand away from you to grab Lucilla’s thigh, keeping her still as he pushes deep. It takes one thrust for him to fall apart, spilling inside his uxor for the first time and painting her walls with a deep groan.

You watch both of their eyes flutter shut, Lucille moaning as the heat of Marcus’s seed floods her womb. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” You hum, reaching out to caress them both as they come down from their pleasure.

Lucilla nods, feeling breathless as she watches Marcus as he pulls out of her to watch his cum drip from her cunt. He leans in to kiss you, “I love you.” He murmurs and leans in to kiss Lucilla. The two women in his life have just come together. Literally.

**** 

“Fuck, you look so pretty like this.” You hum around his cock, preening at his praises as he strokes your cheek. Lashes fluttering and you moan again when Lucilla commands your attention with the flick of her tongue against your clit. 

It’s been months since that day in the baths. The affection and physical attachment between the three of you growing beyond what you could ever imagine. Lucilla often joins you, the three of you sleeping together in the large bed that you had previously shared with Marcus.

Lucilla laps at you, her hands squeezing your hips, and you moan around Marcus's cock as he watches you with dark eyes. The pleasure has been more than any of you could imagine. Lucilla married Marcus for protection but she has gained more than security, she has gained lovers. "Gods, you are both so beautiful to watch." Marcus murmurs, twitching in your mouth.

Looking up at Marcus, you love the intense, lustful expression on his face as he watches the two of you. His love for you has not diminished, but his love for Lucilla has grown, as has your own. The couple have been to many events in Rome where comments have been made about their bond and you just smile and agree, the secret touches of affection between you and the other woman seen as just the relationship of companions. Your cheeks hollow and you pull back to roll your tongue over the sensitive head of his cock.

He groans, caressing your cheek again, and Lucilla feasts on you. The pleasure ping ponging from each participant as you devour and be devoured. Marcus watches in rapture, brow furrowed as his cock twitches in your mouth. “Amor. I- close.” He chokes, wanting to warn you and Lucilla pulls back from you to look up at Marcus. “Cum for her, Maritus. Cum for us.”

You pull him deeper into your mouth as he rocks his hips with a broken groan. His fingers hook around your chin and he looks down. His dark eyes flickering back and forth from your face and the sight of Lucilla settled between your thighs. “I love you both.” He grunts, right as he starts to spill down your throat.

Lucilla loves watching him fall apart and she wants to hear and feel you. Her tongue pushing into your cunt as her fingers dig into your ass, pushing it apart so she can get deeper while you swallow everything Marcus gives you.

Swallowing while you are moaning is hard but you manage. “Fuck.” Marcus pulls his softening cock out of your mouth and you moan Lucilla’s name, reaching down and tangling your fingers into her now messy hair.

Marcus shifts, coming to kneel next to where Lucilla is sliding her tongue and he slides his hand down her back to push two fingers into her dripping cunt while his other hand cups the breast until he pinches your nipple. “My beautiful girls.” He coos, loving how you moan Lucilla’s name.

“I’m so close.” You gasp out, close to shaking apart for them. “So good, you are so good, Lucilla!” You end her name with a squeal of pleasure as you start to cum.

Marcus watches you cum, his hand caressing your skin and he groans when Lucilla clenches around his fingers. “That’s it, uxor. Take your pleasure.” He orders when she pulls away from your cunt and moans his name.

You sit up, twisting your body so you can kiss Lucilla. Wanting to taste yourself from her lips and you flick your tongue against hers before moving down to wrap your lips around her nipple.

Lucilla feels surrounded by you and Marcus as you both touch her. Her capacity to experience pleasure has been brought to new heights since she started sharing your bed. “Gods.” She moans, rocking her hips back onto Marcus’s fingers.

You bite down gently on her nipple and then switch over to her other breast. Knowing how much she loves attention being paid to her breasts. “Cum for your maritus.” You order, winking at her before latching on again.

Lucilla moans, worked up from making you cum on her tongue and Marcus knows exactly how to curl his fingers to push her over the edge. It doesn’t take long when combined with your hot mouth on her nipple and she cries out. Her back arching as she clamps down on Marcus’s thick digits.

She’s gorgeous, you love seeing Lucilla cum. You love the blissed out look on her face. “Beautiful.” Marcus groans, leaning down and kissing her as she continues to shake on his fingers.

You kiss up her chest until you approach her mouth and Marcus turns his head to kiss you again, his heart pounding at how his life has changed since agreeing to marry Lucilla. He doesn’t realize how much until his servant informs him the next morning that he’s been summoned to the palace. “I must go, amor.” You cling to his tunic, “what do they have planned for you?” You whisper and Lucilla stands off to the side, her hands wrung together. “If I don’t go…well, there’s no choice.” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss your forehead as he gently pushes you away. He nods at Lucilla and follows the guards to the chariot to discover his latest fate.

Watching as Marcus is escorted away, you grip Lucilla’s hand tightly. “Why do they want him?” You ask, nervous. “They have decided to use him to expand their holdings.” She knows that the twin emperors will send Marcus away, using her to weld the might of his army for Rome.

**** 

“General, ah you are alive. We thought you had drowned in cunt juices.” Geta chuckles, “between your amor and your uxor, we are certain you’ve been a busy man.” Marcus clenches his jaw at their crassness but there’s nothing he can say so he chuckles and nods, bowing his head, “emperors.” He murmurs and the twins grin, clapping their hands. “We wish for you to take Numidia.” Caracalla declares and Marcus internally sighs, knowing that their quest will result in more Roman ruin and deaths. “Of course, Caesar.” He bows his head and Geta grins, “you will leave at once.” Marcus nods again, bowing before he leaves the hall, his jaw clenched in fury but he must fight for Rome. For Lucilla. For you.

You both wait uneasily for Marcus to come home. Sitting together and having some wine as you chat about milder topics. Trying to distract yourselves from the worry. “Did you ever wish to have more children?” You ask, curious about her wants as a mother.

Lucilla smiles softly, “when I was with Maximus…I wanted to marry him, have his children, and my father would’ve given us permission to marry but my brother…he was power hungry. He wanted to be emperor at any cost and he had killed my first husband…any dreams of children and a happy marriage died with him. I prayed for Lucius and I had to let him go to keep him alive. I pray to the gods that he is safe and happy. Do you wish to have children with Marcus?” She asks softly, squeezing your hand.

“I would love to have children with Marcus.” You admit softly. “But I do not think that will happen, if I am honest.” You squeeze her hand back. “Eventually my father will want me to marry another senator or someone he wants to influence using my cunt.”

Lucilla sighs, "I took the man you love from you. You have shown me pleasure like I've never known. I do not wish to keep you and Marcus hostage forever. As soon as Rome is free, so will he be. I will request a divorce. You will be able to marry and have children. I pray that time comes sooner rather than later."

Shaking your head, you smile at the woman. “Marcus has fallen in love with you.” You have never shied away from being honest. “As have I. The words we say in bed and now have meaning to us.” You bite your lip. “Should you divorce Marcus, so that I may marry him, I hope that you will still stay with us in our current situation.”

Lucilla feels her heart pound, her free hand coming up to cup your cheek, “I would be honored to remain in your household. I’d be honored to help you raise your children.” She smiles softly, “and I love you. Both of you.”

You’re relieved that she feels the same way, leaning in and pressing your lips to his. “Then when we can, we will help you restore Rome to the dream your father and your Maximus had.” Your promise. “Together.”

“Together.” She murmurs, caressing your cheek and soon you hear the servants announce that Marcus has returned. He strides through the halls until he finds you and Lucilla. “What happened?” The older woman asks and Marcus sighs, “they wish to send me to war once again.”

You bite your lip, standing and rushing over to him. “Where?” You demand. “Numidia.” You gasp, knowing that the free city will be difficult to battle. “You must not.” Marcus shakes his head. “I have to, to protect you and Lucilla.” He murmurs, caressing your cheek. “I will return to you both.”

Lucilla closes her eyes, knowing she must be strong for you as Marcus prepares to leave once more. Her hand finds your waist, “he will return to you. To us.” She promises and nods at Marcus.

“Take us,” you beg softly, reaching up and unclipping your dress. “One last time before you go.”

Marcus nods, grabbing your waist to pull you closer, his lips immediately finding yours as Lucilla reaches for his tunic, wanting to expose his body to her hungry eyes.

You don’t care that you are in the courtyard. Perhaps it is fitting since the last time he had taken you before he went to war he had taken you in the courtyard of your father’s villa. Your hands reach for Lucilla’s dress, wanting her to be just as naked as you are. This is for all of you.

Lucilla groans, caressing your side as her robes fall to the marbled floor. Marcus kisses her after pulling his face away from yours. “I’ll miss you both.” He murmurs, grabbing Lucilla so he’s holding you both.

“We will miss you.” You promise, kissing down the side of his neck and reaching down to wrap your hand around his cock to start pumping him.

Marcus groans at the feel of you gripping his cock and Lucilla leans in to kiss his jaw, her hand caressing his chest. Any of the servants could walk in and catch you but none of you care. You want to enjoy the General before he leaves to fight another useless war.

Lucilla kisses behind his ear and he turns towards her mouth and captures it in a passionate kiss, his free hand pulling her close to him as well. “My uxor.” He breathes quietly. “You will keep my other love safe, as well as yourself.” He orders quietly. “Do not risk yourself while I am gone.”

“I promise. We will be safe. I will not speak to Graccus until you return. We will put our plan into action then. Spread word to your men and we will make the emperors pay.” Lucilla murmurs and Marcus groans, his hands sliding up to squeeze a breast on each woman.

You hum, knowing that they have been plotting but they have not included you for now because of your father. Not sure how he would vote, you understand their reasoning. Now you squeeze his cock and smirk. “Fuck your uxor and then me.” You order. “It is safe and I want you to finish inside me again.”

“Bed. I want you both in the bed.” He grabs your hand from his cock and wraps his arm around Lucilla’s waist, dragging you both naked down the hall to the bedchamber you share. No servants cross your path but they will see the clothes left behind and hear your giggles. They are aware of the arrangement but they are all too well paid to discuss it. When you’re inside the room, Marcus lets go of the women, “on the bed. Both of you. I want to fuck both of you.”

Both you and Lucilla smirk, sitting down on the edge of the bed side by side and Marcus shakes his head. “Not like that.” He grunts, licking his lips. “I want you both closer so I can switch between your cunts.”

Lucilla frowns, “how do you want us?” She asks and you smirk, knowing what he wants. You’ve seen the drawings on the brothel walls. You shift to kneel, “get on top of me. I can take it.” You say and Lucilla bites her lip but nods, shifting to straddle you, her weight on top of yours and your legs spread to display your dripping cunt to Marcus.

Marcus groans. “Fuck, both of you are so pretty. Beautiful cunts that feel so good.” He wraps his hand around his cock. “If I had time, I would have each of you sit on my face while the other is on my cock.”

“When you return.” Lucilla promises breathlessly and leans down to kiss your neck. Marcus grips his hard cock, pumping himself as he shuffles closer until he’s pushing into Lucilla. He groans her name and slides his hand along your thigh, admiring how you are below her and your bodies almost become one.

You can feel his thrusts into Lucilla, The motion rocking you forward beneath him and your ass pushes up to press against her clit. “Grind down on me.” You order breathlessly, wanting to feel how wet she is.

Lucilla moans, grinding down onto you, and Marcus slides his hand higher until he’s pushing two thick digits into you while he fucks Lucilla. She moans and he grunts, watching both women below him until he pulls out of Lucilla and withdraws his fingers so he can push into you.

“Marcus.” You gasp out his name and squirm under Lucilla. “Too bad you do not have two cock to fuck us both at the same time.” You have seen women take more than one cock at a time so it is unfair that men cannot pleasure multiple women with a cock at the same time.

Marcus groans, wishing he could fuck both of you at the same time. He hisses when you squeeze his cock inside you and he caresses Lucilla's ass. He squeezes her flesh and she leans down to kiss your shoulder.

“He is still so thick inside me.” You pant. “No matter how many times he fucks me. Is it the same for you, Luc?” You hear your lover giggle. “It is.” She praises, looking back at Marcus over her shoulder. “It is good our General has a hearty appetite to satisfy us both.”

Marcus chuckles, "it is because I am granted the gift of two incredible cunts to fuck." He slaps Lucilla's ass and she giggles, grinding her clit onto your ass and Marcus thrusts a little harder into you until he pulls out and pushes back into Lucilla.

You miss the feeling of him inside you, but Lucilla’s moan makes up for it. You groan softly, your cunt clenching around nothing as he rocks into her above you.

Marcus groans, watching Lucilla's hole flutter and he pulls out of you, pushing into her for a moment before he pushes back into you. He continues that, thrusting into each woman one thrust then switching.

You whimper, loving how he is just spearing into both of you over and over again. “You will miss this.” You tell him breathlessly. “Cunts to fuck whenever you want.” You know Marcus will not fuck one of the whores while he is gone. He did not before his marriage to Lucilla and he would not now.

He groans, “my hand will have to suffice during my absence but I want you both to enjoy yourselves.” He demands, thrusting hard into Lucilla who cries out until he repeats the motion as he pushes into you. “Will miss you both so fucking much.”

“Love you.” You gasp and Lucilla moans in agreement. “I love you Acacius.” She hums and kisses your shoulder. “And I love you. I have been blessed by the gods with both of you.”

Marcus wants to hear both women cum. He wants to feel it before he's sent away for gods know how long. He pushes into Lucilla, making her cry out in bliss and Marcus pants, sweat beading on his brow.

“Cum for Marcus.” You beg Lucilla. “You know you want to remind him of what he fights for. He will fight to come home to your cunt. To your lips, your heart.”

Marcus pushes into his uxor, wanting to hear and feel her cum around him. Wanting to carry that memory with him into battle. His cock twitches as her walls start to flutter and his jaw is clenched as he fucks her harder, her body bouncing above yours.

You wish you were on your back, embracing Lucilla. Kissing and coaxing her to cum because you know she is on the cusp. You grind your ass up, feeling her clit rub against your skin. “Cum for your maritus.”

Lucilla takes orders well and she falls apart, her jaw dropping as she cums, shaking above you and Marcus groans at the way she clamps down on his cock. He hisses and pushes deep, his cock twitching as he fills her up with his hot seed.

You hear the groan Marcus gives and you know that he’s cum, a little disappointed that he had fallen apart so quickly but you can’t deny him his pleasure. You turn your head and watch both of them. “Beautiful.” You coo.

Marcus works Lucilla through it, his cum pushed out and a little drops onto your ass but he’s still hard. His eyebrows raise and he chuckles, “don’t worry, amor. You’ll cum on my cock too.” He promises as he pulls out of Lucilla to push his still throbbing length into your cunt.

“Oh gods.” Your head drops down between your shoulders. It’s not often that Marcus stays hard after cumming, but right now it’s perfect. A last time for each of you before he leaves to fight another war. “You want to fill up your wife and your lover, don’t you? Have us drip your cum when we go to lick each other’s cunts?”

“Fuck.” Marcus hisses, his chest heaving as he imagines you and Lucilla lapping his seed from your cunts. “Yes. Yes. Fuck. That sounds like a gorgeous sight. Something the gods would be envious of.” He confesses and twitches inside you.

You shiver. “Then you must come home so we can do this again and again.” You hum. “Perhaps when Lucilla rules, she can make us all married to each other.” You pose breathlessly.

Marcus nods, “my uxors.” He murmurs in awe at the very thought of getting to keep both of you. To belong to both of you. “Yes. Yes. I would.” Lucilla promises and caresses your cheek as she hovers above you. Marcus pushes into you, needing you to cum and you gasp when Lucilla shifts her weight onto one hand so she can slide her hand down your stomach until she’s rubbing your clit.

“Gods.” You whimper, closing your eyes and praying that Marcus is returned to you safely. You know that Lucilla will keep you company and you know that you have come to love her, but your heart will not be complete without him beside you. “Marcus, Lucilla!” You choke out a cry as your cunt clamps down around his throbbing cock.

Marcus loves how you clamp down on his cock. The woman he’s loved for so many years is below the woman he’s come to love recently. It’s more than he can handle and it only takes a few thrusts for him to cum again, pushing deep with your permission to start to paint your walls with his hot seed.

You whine in pleasure, loving how he fills you. Knowing that your cunt will be creamy with his seed and you will drip him for hours. “I love you.” You promise. “Until the gods take me.”

“I love you. Both of you.” Marcus vows, leaning down to kiss Lucilla’s shoulder. “I’ll fight to come home to you. That’s my quest. Not to get some fucking land for them. But to come home to my girls.” He smiles and grunts as he starts to soften inside you. “I need to prepare for my departure.” He sighs as he pulls out of you and shifts to lay down on the bed beside Lucilla.

Lucilla rolls off of you and over Marcus to snuggle into his side and you turn to press against him. “In a moment.” You lean in and kiss him softly. “The army will wait for their general.”

Marcus wraps his arms around you both, breathing you in, and he knows it will be painful to leave you both here with the emperors at large but there’s nothing he can do. He must fight. **** 

“We will pray for you every day.” Lucilla vows and Marcus nods, cupping her cheek while he has his arm around your waist. “Come home to us, Maritus.” You plead and he leans in to softly kiss Lucilla before he turns to kiss you. “I’ll come home to you.” He promises even though his fate is up to the gods. You and Lucilla have tears in your eyes as you hold each other close while watching Marcus prepare his horse for his departure. When he swings his leg over, he settles in and blows a kiss to you both. You watch as he rides off down the cobbled street to the gates, leaving once again for a useless war.

Marcus is gone for two months. You feel an unease like you never have before, worry manifesting in a souring of your stomach. Even Lucilla tries to keep herself busy but is often sitting in the courtyard where the three of you spent so much time.

Marcus is exhausted when he returns from war. He wants to return to the villa and collapse in bed with you and Lucilla. Yet he can’t. He must clean up and meet with the emperors. Have a feast and celebrate his victory. The word sits heavy on his tongue knowing how many were killed because of his orders. He waves to the crowd, dressing in his finery to meet the emperors and accept their false praises. He looks at the adoring crowd, hating the cheers as he makes his way up the steps to meet with Geta and Caracalla.

You stand in the crowd, wanting to see Marcus. To put eyes on him. The messenger he had sent to let you know of his return had eased your worry, but still you needed to see for yourself. Lucilla had stayed home, so you had traveled to the city to see him alone, although you could not welcome him as your husband.

Marcus bows his head as the golden laurel is placed on his head. He thanks the emperors who grin and wave at the crowds. "Now, we feast!" Caracalla cheers, stroking the monkey sitting on his shoulder and Marcus nods, "of course, Caesar." He follows them from the steps of their palace but he is eager to return home.

When Marcus disappears into the palace, you depart for home. Unable to travel fast right now due to your nerves and how racing on the back of your horse makes you feel. Taking an hour to reach the villa that you have come to think of as home instead of your father’s estate in the city.

Marcus eats and drinks a little to keep up appearances and when the orgy is getting started, he bows to the emperors and takes his leave. “Enjoy fucking your uxor and lover, General. I’m sure they have missed having a cock instead of each other’s tongues.” Geta chuckles and Marcus rocks his jaw but nods, bowing once again as he leaves the palace. His cloak flares behind him as he makes his way through the streets to ride to the villa he has come to call home. The guards let him in and he’s swinging his leg over the stallion, handing the reins to his hand and he strides into the villa. He walks through the halls until he finds Lucilla and you sitting in candlelight. “My ladies.” He greets you with a cheeky smile after he lowers the hood of his cloak.

“Acacius.” Lucilla smiles, a soft, dreamy smile as she looks towards her husband. You hum as you stand and both of you walk towards him. You recognize the look in his eye, so does Lucilla. She takes his hand. “Come.” She urges. “Let me feed you.”

Marcus sighs as he takes her hand, followed by as you make your way to the room you share with his uxor. You all enter the room and you reach up to unclip his cloak, the heavy fabric falling to the floor and Marcus sighs in relief as the weight of the war is lifted off his shoulders. He reaches for you and Lucilla, pulling you both close to breathe you in.

He has new scars. You caress his cheek gently and lean in to kiss them. Wanting him to know that it’s alright. He’s home with the two of you. Home where he belongs. “Let us take care of you.” You coo. “Be a respite from war.”

Marcus nods, unable to physically do much when he’s been so tense, using every ounce of determination and strength to ensure his return home to you both. It doesn’t take long for you to strip him down and he is already hard. It’s been too long with his own touch to satisfy when the nights became lonely. He sighs and lays down on the bed, watching as Lucilla unpins her robes.

“Your uxor has missed you.” You hum, watching his eyes light up when her tits are revealed. “Just as much as I have. And I have missed you every moment of every day.” You kneel down to help her with her sandals so she is completely nude.

Marcus watches in rapture, fascinated still by the way you have fully accepted and fallen in love with Lucilla. He smiles as his uxor comes to kneel on the bed beside him while you work on removing your clothes. He is hard and he beckons her forward, reaching up to squeeze her breast. "I want you to sit on my face or my cock, uxor. You choose between you."

“Let your lover have your cock.” She leans down and smirks as she kisses his lips. “I have missed the talent of your tongue and your nose pressed against my clit.” She hums. “The rasp of your beard on the inside of my thighs.”

He groans, watching as she kneels, straddling his chest, and his hands find her hips, dragging her closer so she is hovering over his mouth. He groans at the heady scent of her arousal, somehow already wet for him, and he slides his tongue through her folds, groaning and his fingers gripping her flesh

You have to just watch for a moment, his cock is hard against his stomach and it twitches at the first lick. His groan is muffled by her folds, but her sounds are loud enough for both of them. “So beautiful.” You praise. “I have missed this sight.” You finish peeling off your clothes and kneel on the bed, wrapping your hand around his cock and lowering your head to take him into your mouth.

Marcus groans into Lucilla’s flesh, his fingers dig into her hips and he hisses when you take him deeper into your mouth. He loves it. How you eagerly take him and he sucks on Lucilla’s clit as her hands cover his.

He has obviously visited the baths before riding into Rome in victory. The musky, earthy taste of him is clean and addictive, making you hollow your cheeks as you suck his cock. “Your mouth is amazing, but I am sure he would prefer your cunt.” Lucilla moans.

Marcus grunts into her flesh in agreement and you giggle, shifting to straddle him. You grip his cock and it’s mere seconds until you are sinking down onto his cock with a loud moan of his name. He twitches inside you, his groan smothered by Lucilla’s cunt and she moans at the vibrations.

You brace your hands on his chest. Taking a moment to grind down on him and adjust to having that thick cock inside you again. Lucilla’s fingers aren’t nearly as thick and they don’t reach where his cock manages to touch. He feels like he’s in your womb.

Marcus groans when you start to move on top of him. It’s intoxicating and Lucilla loves seeing the pleasure on your face. She leans forward to press her lips to yours, her hands squeezing your tits as she grinds down onto Marcus’s tongue.

This room has seen so much pleasure. The walls absorb it along with your latest moan into her mouth. You bounce on Marcus’s cock, determined to cum all over it as you ride.

Marcus loves how you and Lucilla shamelessly use his body for your pleasure, rocking back and forth on his tongue and his cock. He twitches inside you as he pushes his tongue deep into Lucilla, desperate to get as much of you both as possible.

You moan as you bounce on his cock, rolling your hips and leaning into the kiss. Absorbing her sounds as she rocks her hips over his tongue.

Marcus can do nothing but lay beneath you. His lover and his uxor. His hands caressing Lucilla as he tongue fucks her and she slides her tongue against yours.

You love this. You love how the three of you have come together. The thought of giving either one of them up tears you to pieces and you know that you will fight to keep them. You break away from Lucilla’s kiss on a moan. “Gonna cum.” You pant out, rocking furiously on his cock as you gallop towards pleasure.

He feels your walls flutter around his cock and Lucilla cries out when he slides his tongue up and sucks her clit between his lips. “Fuck!” She curses, her forehead pressing against your sternum as you grind down and clamp down on Marcus’s cock. “Shit, amor.” You moan, soaking his cock at the same time Lucilla falls apart, soaking his face.

He groans beneath you. His cock pulsing and he’s been so long without the feel of your cunt around his cock that he cannot hold back. Thrusting up, he prays to the gods that your fertile time is not now as he paints your womb with his seed.

Your lover pants against Lucilla’s flesh and his uxor kisses up your chest until her lips press against yours. Her tongue slides into your mouth as you both ride your orgasms and Marcus enjoys the weight of you both as he softens inside you.

Eventually, Lucilla swings her leg over Marcus’s body and you lean forward to taste her from his lips. “I love you.” You coo softly, Moving to the side so that his uxor could kiss him as well.

Marcus sighs as he relaxes into the sheets, enjoying the relaxation and the lack of awareness. When he’s away, he’s constantly on guard, even with his own men, in case they have been influenced by the emperors.

“I’ll get some wine.” You want to give Marcus and Lucilla a moment, you know they have things to discuss, so you pull off your lover’s cock and reach for a wrapper to go get some wine and snacks.

Marcus sits up, uncaring of his nudity and Lucilla settles beside him, curling into his side. “I have spoken to several senators in private. They agree with us that the emperors are ruining Rome.” She reveals and Marcus nods, caressing her side, “I have an army loyal to me. They are sailing for Rome. They will be here in ten days. We have ten days to put this plan into action.” Marcus declares and Lucilla nods, “the games begin tomorrow. We will attend and plan in the shadows.”

Bringing back a jug of wine, you are followed by a servant bringing a tray of food. “We return.” You call out loudly so they can pause any sensitive conversations so the servants do not hear. “I bring wine and sustenance for the general and his lady.” Everyone in the house knows of your dealings, but you always defer to them around the help.

Marcus shifts to sit up, a robe draped over him as Lucilla wraps her own around her waist. They both watch you enter the room with the servant trailing behind you and Marcus watches you with dark eyes. He has to save Rome. For you and for everyone in it.

After depositing the tray on the table, you dismiss the woman with a smile and nod before you pour up the cups of wine yourself. “Did you have a good chat?” You ask as you bring the wine over to your lovers. Looking over your shoulder, you make sure that there are no servants lurking. “My father will not commit until the odds are in your favor.” You admit quietly, having felt the Senator out cautiously. “But he will commit.” You hate that he plays sides, but it’s how most of the senate keeps what little power they have against the emperors.

Marcus nods in understanding, “my army rides for Rome. Men loyal to me. They will fight in my name against the emperors. They arrive in ten days.” Marcus assures you and Lucilla who takes the cup of wine, taking a nervous sip. 

**** 

“Marcus.” Lucilla gasps, reaching for his hand, “it’s Lucius. He’s - he’s fighting in the games.” Lucilla chokes after you have returned to the villa after watching the opening games.

“Your son?” Dread curdles in your stomach. You know how much Lucilla has missed Lucius, how she yearns to have him back. “Are you sure?” Marcus asks in astonishment. The man she is talking about is a slave that he had brought back from his conquest, a man who had stared at him in defiance. He hadn’t recognized the boy from so many years ago.

She nods, “I know my son.” She reaches for Marcus’s hand. “He’s in the games. I need to protect him. Acacius. Help him.” She pleads, her hands trembling and you rub her back in comfort. He brings up the fact that the army is on their way, but she is afraid he will not survive until then. Marcus swallows, knowing what he must do. He nods, bringing her hand to his to kiss the back of it.

Your heart aches because you know the danger that he will face. “I will get him out of the city.” He promises her softly, turning and pulling you into his arms. “I have to, amor.” He murmurs, wanting you to understand. “You must be careful, Acacius.” you murmur softly, knowing it will be dangerous. 

Marcus kisses your forehead, “I’ll be safe. I will make sure he lives and we will all be free.” He vows, knowing that his life is in danger now. Both because of Lucius and the emperors. Lucilla feels beside herself, knowing her son lives and he can be emperor. Fulfil the role he was destined for. Marcus and Lucilla get to work the next day, meeting with senators to prepare for the coup under the nose of the emperors

Spending the night alone for the first time in forever, you worry about your lover and his uxor, not sleeping a wink. Exhausted, you rise from the lonely bed when the sun rises and once again pray to the gods. There has been no word, but you know that can be a good thing. You try to keep up appearances, but you are nervous. You will attend the games as normal. Dressing carefully for the games and making your presence known. Wanting to assist however you can.

Lucilla looks up as you walk onto the balcony, Marcus not beside her. Her hands chained to the chair she’s sitting in. Her expression, her eyes are devastated and you inhale sharply, knowing this meant the coup failed. They were discovered. The emperors beckon you to sit next to Lucilla, and the guards come forward. Your eyes widen as they grab your wrists, chains clanking around them despite your initial struggle and tears start to sting in your eyes knowing your fate has been sealed. The announcer introduces the gladiators and then your breath leaves your body when they say his name. “General Marcus Acacius!” The crowd cheers and you whisper “no” as Marcus swings his sword, entering the arena.

“My my, your lovers have really disappointed us.” Geta tuts as he smirks at you. “How they have betrayed Rome, and more importantly - us.” You shake your head. “He wouldn’t. They wouldn’t.” You protest. “They love Rome more than anything.”

“They love Rome more than they love us and we can’t have that.” Caracalla answers with a smirk, “and we can’t have traitors in our midst.” Marcus bows his head after placing his sword on his chest, signaling his felty to Rome and he nods to the men fighting him, knowing he will have to kill them. It doesn’t take long for him to cut them down in brutal battle, blood soaking the sand as his chest heaves, knowing he won’t survive this fight but he sent word to his men, praying they arrive and fulfil his order to retake Rome from the emperors and their army.

You have watched in horror, fingers curled around the arm rest of the chair and you are near tears. Another name is announced and Lucilla gasps, making your heart sink. Lucius comes through the gates at the end of the arena, his face hard and determined. “Please don’t.” You beg the emperors. “The general is no use to you dead.”

“We can promote a general. We cannot promote a coup.” Geta replies, cup of wine in hand as Caracalla gleefully claps, watching Lucius be feral and vicious as he battles with a reluctant Marcus.

“Marcus.” You whimper, clenching your fists together and praying to the gods that some miracle prevents one of them from killing the other. “Please, do not do this.” You beg. “That is- you do not know who that is.”

Geta scoffs and ignores you as the crowd begins to cheer when Lucius steps closer to Marcus. The General reluctantly swings his sword to block the blows, trying to talk sense into his uxor’s son, but he has a fury in his eyes like he’s never seen. He wants blood. You can see Marcus talking to him but you can’t hear what’s being said over the roar of the crowd and your own pounding heart. Marcus grunts as he shoves Lucius back, continuing to talk to him, and finally, it appears his message gets through when Marcus is kneeling on the ground, his hand up and sword laying in the sand. Lucius stares at the older man, realizing who the enemy is, and he doesn’t raise his sword to kill the man who took his love, his wife. He swallows harshly and watches while the emperors scream to kill the General.

“No!” Your scream cracks your voice as you shout out, unable to stop the multiple arrows piercing Marcus’s body and you hear a howling sound as you watch his body fall to the ground, his eyes open. The sound is coming from you. Pain and anguish ripping through your body like you’ve never experienced before.

Lucilla has tears running down her cheeks as she stares at Marcus laying on the ground. Your screams echoing around the colosseum and the guards grab you, dragging you chained from the balcony but the citizens of Rome hear your anguish cries echoing through the stands.

“Murders! You murdered him! You murdered him!” You are screaming as you are being dragged out of sight, fighting to stay, needing to stay to see Marcus’s body. No one in the stands cheers the death of the general.

**** 

Lucilla kneels beside Marcus, his body laid out for his funeral, and she cries silently as she says her goodbyes to the man she’s come to love deeply. When you enter the room, she looks up and beckons you over. You’ve been inconsolable. Barely able to make it out of bed and she understands but she has to continue fighting for Lucius. She shifts as you kneel next to Marcus, tears already gathering in your eyes, “he loved you with every bone in his body.” She says softly, reaching for your hand to bring in on top of Marcus’s, sandwiching your hands together with hers.

“He loved you as well.” Your voice is hoarse, barely a whisper and your eyes feel heavy and gritty from your grief. “Lucilla-“ you choke up, hating how cold your lover feels. His life is gone, his warmth bled dry by the emperors. “They must die.” You hiss.

Lucilla nods, letting go of your hand and she looks down at the ring on Marcus’s hand. “Take it. It’s yours.” She says. You shake your head, “no it’s not. Take it and give it to Lucius. He is the only one that can save us now. Go to him.” Lucilla nods, sliding the ring onto her ring and she kisses Marcus’s hand once more, “we will avenge you.” She vows to him and looks at you, “we will have the Rome he wanted.”

You nod, unsure of what to tell her right now, but you know you need that future for Rome, for yourself. Lucilla rushes away and you are left with the body of your lover. “I have news.” You whisper softly, leaning down and caressing his cheeks. His eyes are now closed and he looks peaceful, although you know he is not merely sleeping. “I will tell you when everything is settled.” Leaning in, you give Marcus one last kiss. “Forever my love, that is how long I will love you.”

Lucilla watches her son as he looks down at the ring on his finger. His father’s ring. She nods and offers him a soft smile as he looks at her with determination. He will ensure that Marcus and Maximus did not die in vain. He will avenge them and secure Rome once again for everyone. For all. Forever.

You don’t know how long you sit with Marcus’s body. You lose track of time until the door opens. “Leave me.” You order without even looking to see who it is. Hands grab your arms and you cry out as you are one again dragged away from your lover. “What is the meaning of this?” You demand as the praetorian guards cart you off.

Lucilla is silently praying to the gods as she is tied to the platform, the senators surrounding her. Your father is not among them. She’s grateful you aren’t here but she hears your cry as you’re dragged into the emperor’s balcony. Caracalla giggling with his monkey on his shoulder as he watches Lucius enter the colosseum with his jaw clenched in determination.

“Lucilla!” You shout out her name as the crowd goes to thundering from the stands, but you know she hears you. “I love you!”

Lucilla has tears on her cheeks but she refuses to show she’s scared. She is tied to the platform and the senators cry and scream but she hears you. She looks up at you and mouths ‘I love you’ just as Lucius enters the arena to see his mother tied up. He fights to get to her but it’s too late and Macrinus grabs the bow, firing the arrow that pierces her heart. You sob, knowing you’ve lost the ones to love to his brutality and thirst for power. You sob and he kills Caracalla without a moment's thought while Lucius fights.

You shiver, knowing that you are next in this brutal conquest of Rome. This has been a coup that the emperors could never have imagined and you scream as Lucius seems to falter.

Macrinus turns towards you, his eyes narrowed and you tug on the chains that keep you bound but the man has bigger issues when Lucius turns his gaze on the balcony and rushes towards you and Macrinus. “Fuck.” The man curses and looks at the guard, “do not let her go.” He orders before he runs off the balcony just as Lucius climbs up. He growls at the guard who holds the key for you and he pulls the knife out to rush the guard. The man is no match and Lucius puts his blade into his chest, grabbing the key to free you. His hands are steady as he unlocks you from the shackles, “go. Go save Rome.” You order and he nods, running off to follow Macrinus.

You make your way to the sands, needing to touch Lucilla again. Sobbing as you make your way through the crowds to the display she had been tied to. You work the ropes to lay her body down and you caress her cheek. “I am so sorry, amor.”

****

Lucius pants as he defeats Macrinus, the army ready to fight alongside him to destroy those who dare to take Rome for their own. It's days later that Lucius is named Emperor. His rightful place but he places power back in the hands of the senate. "You must take a wife, Caesar. You must continue your line." Your father says to the young man, "my daughter can be your wife. She has lost so much, as have you. She will understand your pain and she will not ask for more than you are willing to give."

Lucius frowns slightly, but he doesn’t say no. “Have your daughter brought to me to talk.” He decides, unsure of who this daughter is, but the Senator in question is a powerful man.

Lucius looks up when you are brought into his chambers, your hands wringing together, and he frowns, “your father sent you. Tell me why.” He orders, twisting the ring his mother gave him as he stands.

You snort, your eyes falling to the ring that you had given Marcus. Now on this emperor’s hand. “Because my father wishes to have me married off before it is discovered that I am carrying Marcus Acacius’s child.” You admit honestly, reaching down and holding your stomach protectively.

Lucius nods in understanding, having heard you were Acacius’s lover. And his mother’s. “Then we will marry.” He declares, “I do not wish to find an uxor who simpers and wants a love story. I need a practical woman who wants protection and companionship. I need an advisor, a confidant. Can you be that for me? Your child will be protected.” He vows, “they will be our child.”

You frown slightly, surprised that he would want that kind of life. It’s a good deal for you and you’d be a fool not to take it. “I could.” You agree after a moment. “If that is what you want. I loved your mother and her maritus.” You admit that freely. “I would never be disloyal to her son, in any way.”

Lucius is aware of the relationship you shared with his mother and her Maritus. He had discovered how Marcus has protected his mother from a few senators he trusted and he wants to honor the man who kept his mother safe until his last breath. If he can do that by protecting his child, he will do so. “That’s what I want. I want to honor my mother and Acacius. I can do that by honoring you and the child in your belly.” Lucius declares and you nod, “I accept. If you wish to take me as your uxor.” Lucius slides the ring from his pinky, walking towards you to slide the ring onto your finger. “This is yours now. My empress.” Lucius offers you a sad smile that you return, nodding in understanding. 

**** 

“Marcus! Slow down!” You call out to your son. He’s seven and the image of his father but no one in Rome says a word about the truth that the emperor is not his father. Lucius has declared the boy as his heir and you are the empress. You glance down at the ring on your hand before looking towards the sky and you think of Marcus and Lucilla. You pray they are in the Elysian Fields together. “He is so much like you.” You whisper, closing your eyes as the breeze curls around you and you feel Marcus is with you. You swear you hear him say your name but the wind carries it away. “Mama!” Your son calls and you smile, walking towards him and Lucius who is holding his hand out for you. You never got your happy ending with Marcus but this will do until you see him again.

[cercandodiscrivere]

Cadere | emperor geta x reader.

word count | 2.7k

warnings | 18+, infidelity / cheating, dark themes (mentions of war, death and murder), murder plans as part of sex talk, prayers, porn with too much plot, unbeta'd.

synopsis |The last time you dared to beg the gods for favour, you pleaded to be given to a man over another.

It seems just like a cruel joke how your wish was granted now—a jest that only serves to make you beg once more.

gif found online.

“Dea, quae thalamorum custos es et coniugii praesidium, domum meam ab hostibus defende, me tua virtute sustenta.”

The voice, a low and steady murmur, seeps into the room like a wisp of warm air: Lucilla's prayer is not so much a plea as a soft-spoken lament, her words coated in a quiet sorrow that seems to echo throught the marble walls.

The words she whispers are unfamiliar, not part of the litany you were taught at the temple. Each request is carefully considered and every word is chosen with intention.

The last time you pleaded to the gods with such desperation, it was to beg for them to alter the path your father had chosen—but no divine messenger appeared in his dreams. The gods had greater concerns than the unwanted marriage of a young girl.

You wondered if they watched when your father confirmed Tiberius Aemilius Marcellus’ desire to wed you. If they knew the torment of leaving the sanctuary of the home you had grown in.

If they noticed how, even if you still tried to tint your prayers with the same devotion, they always tasted as sour as vinegar on your tongue.

“Virum meum sanum et incolumem redde, ut cor meum eius reditu gaudeat.”

The voice brings you back to the present.

Lucilla may have been careful with her words, but she showed little regard for the dove that she had her servants sacrifice. A delicate creature, even with its feathers stained red: an offering to Juno, the guardian of the household and of women. A gesture to secure your husbands safe return from battle.

You had anticipated a prayer to Mars, a tradition before men embark on glorious battles (although Tiberius, if he could hear your thoughts, would remind you that the true glory comes only after the brutality of war).

Lucilla appeared to share a similar opinion. "Leave it to the men to pray for war" she said when you had asked her. "We women pray for our lovers' safe return".

Affection is the closest thing to the sentiment you feel for Tiberius: more unbridled feelings are reserved for poetry and drama, not arranged marriages. He is a kind and devoted man, as is expected. As a Legate for the army, he ensures your safety: as his whife, your heritage secures the continuation of his bloodline—and that is all.

“Why not pray to Victoria, then?”.

“Victorious or not, let them come home alive—for if a man dies at war, sad is his wife’s fate”.

And with that, you knelt and bowed your head, listening intently as the woman begun her pleading.

The room is now filled with a dense and overwhelming aroma of incense; the scent clings to your throat, suffocating the air. As the smoke rises in coiling tendrils, it wraps around you, casting flickering shadows that dance along the walls.

The night outside is eerily quiet, the sound of men's laughter echoing through the walls: tomorrow morning, when the Emperors will bid farwell to the soldiers and their purpose, there will be no mirth.

The Emperors.

Your family had once been part of Settimio Severo’s court, your father a cousin to the imposing ruler. You grew alongside his sons—a past far enough that seems almost like a dream. Once, you used to hide with Caracalla to infiltrate the adults’ cenae, trying to steal wine without being seen. You would watch Geta as he trained, a lanky child with a gaze too serious for his age.

It has been years since they watched you leave, the bright nuptial flammeum still pinned to your hair. Now, all that remains to fuel your fantasies are fading memories and the echoes of laughter from the banquet; a grand celebration held by a General seeking approval from his Emperors.

One where lieutenants indulged in sweetened wine, losing themselves in its intoxicating spices.

A gathering not meant for women to attend.

“Pacem et securitatem mihi largire, et ne sinas me in bracchia malignorum cadere, ut sub tua misericordia vivere possim”. Lucilla’s voice falters as she finishes the prayer, the room falling into an unsettling stillness.

In the distance, someone shouts while others laugh. A servant standing behind you moves, her tunic brushing against the floor.

Lucilla's eyes quickly glance in your direction before she speaks. “Will you walk with me in the gardens?”.

To catch one last glimpse of our husbands is the implicit proposition; and while in every other situation you would never deny a woman of such high status, there is nothing you desire less—because catching a glimpse of Tiberius would mean seeing his domine. Your heart would not dare.

“Your request is kind” you answer, hoping your voice comes out as somber as hers. “But I have a son to go back to”.

You regret the excuse almost as soon as it leaves your lips, for the saddened look Lucilla gives you almost makes you stay. Out of all the things you could have said to her as you left her alone in the darkness of her home—filled with Acacio's men but devoid of any comfort for her—somehow it feels as if you chose the most hurtful one.

A moment later, her lips curve upwards in what could be considered a smile; yet it appears more like a mask meant to please others than a genuine reaction.

“I understand”.

Still smiling, she orders a servant to inform your litter carriers to wait for you at the entrance.

_

You bid Lucilla farewell with a respectful bow, one that she does not seem to register. Escorted away by her ancillas, you assume she will not walk through the gardens now that you are gone.

Indifferent to men’s affairs, the moon casts a silver glow — and yet the night is still too dark, too overwhelming to bear alone.

You should reach the entrance: but as you stand in the peristylium, your feet refuse to move. In the middle of the open courtyard, ecircled by towering columns, you can’t help but feel trapped.

Beyond the opposite wall lies the raucous dining hall, the air filled with laughts and shouts.

There’s music. There’s the sound of plates clattering and glasses clinking, accompanied by the occasional splash of wine that some drunken guests might have spilled. There’s footsteps, right behind you.

Footsteps. Behind you.

"Leaving so soon, without greeting the guests?".

You spin around, your breath catching in your throat —and there he is, just a few steps behind you. Geta.

Bathed in the moon's ethereal glow, his features are sharper than you remembered. You had always envisioned him and his twin as shining gold: gold like their crowns, gold like their coins and their brooches and the divine blood that flows whithin their veins.

Under the silver light, he instead emerges from darkness like a haunting memory from your past.

"Domine" you say as you lower yourself into curtsy—for an Emperor who speaks is one who demands an answer.

Even with your head bowed down you can sense how the ceremonious response displeases him.

"Ah, so formal” he remarks, his tone still teasing. “No need”.

His hand gently lifts your chin, straightening you. “I recall a time when you would refuse to bow before me, just out of stubborness”. A small grin appears on his face—and for the second time tonight, you can't help but feel that something is off about the smiles on everyone's faces.

“You would throw tantrums, and father would force me to apologise on my knees” you agree.

I miss those moments, you almost say—but it would make you seem too desperate.

Geta laughs openly, his hand still resting on you. He’s getting closer; you can almost smell the sweetness of the wine on his breath.

“It’s too early to be leaving” he says. “We haven't seen each other in years. It would be a pity to waste such a rare occasion”.

It occurs to you that you’re entirely alone with him now, and for just a moment you wonder if wandering the house alone was the best idea: your instinct is to give the same excuse you gave Lucilla—the longing to be in his presence so overwhelming it almost scares you.

…and yet, he wants it too. You cannot refuse an Emperor's request.

“You are right. My servants can wait a bit longer; catching up with an old friend is more important. Let’s talk, then”.

Geta laughs once more, his nose almost touching yours as his fingers gently rest on your cheek.

“Who said anything about talking?”

His lips meet yours a moment after.

It’s an insistent kiss, one that will leave your lips raw and red.

Instinctually, you reach up and twine your fingers into his hair while his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you even closer. The resulti s that you fell trapped again—between his warm body and the chill of the marble column—and for a breathless moment, you lose yourself in the feeling.

It’s the sound of something hitting the floor, distant but still uncomfortably near, that has reality crash back like a cold wave.

You pull away abruptly, your heart racing. “Stop” go on go on go on.

Geta leans back just enough to give you space to speak.

"Tiberius is on the other sideof that wall" your voice is trembling—fear, excitement, shame. "A servant could walk this way at any moment. This is madness".

He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, as if your words hold no significance. "You recall" he says instead, "you recall when your father would demand that you apologize on your knees". He moves closer, but instead of kissing you again or pushing you to the ground, Geta shocks you by dropping at your feet himself.

His intense gaze used to be a serious one—almost too mature for a young and careless man—but now it’s wild, deranged. "If he let you stay, I would have adored you. Worshiped every step you took".

You do not respond to the delirious declaration, too dazed to do anything beside gasping for air.

“You look just as good as I remember” his voice is soft. “Charming. Sweet. Beautiful… a shame, to see you leave with a man so insignificant”.

As he speaks, his hand sneaks under your tunic, inching up and up and up as he stands.

“I… We can’t” you are not even sure if he hears you. Shame swirls in your loins, mixing with desire—and despite all reason, you don’t stop Geta as he pushes the layers of your skirt up to your hips.

He presses against you once more, his gaze never wavering from yours. He doesn't need permission; even he knows he already has it. He wants to hear you admit that you want him just as much as he wants you. He wishes for surrender.

You whisper his name, unsure if it's a scolding or a plea. He leans in closer, planting fiery kisses along your neck. His mouth sucks on your skin until you moan into the air above him, fingers tightening into ginger strands of his hair.

It’s too much.

It’s not nearly enough.

“Yes” you say. This time your voice is clear. “Take everything you want”.

“I will”.

With that as a last warning, he spears two fingers inside of you, finding you wet and wanting. You hold onto his shoulder tightly, your chest rising and falling with each breath as a loud moan escapes your lips, only encouraging him to continue.

You've shared nights with your husband before—but not like this, never like this.

"Please-" you gasp, trying to hold on to some sense of modesty while also giving in to the rough, demanding movement. His pace is fast and unrelenting, and the most careless of you eagerly surrenders to them in hopes of reaching release.

Geta's grin stretches across his face, victorious as if he has just won a fierce battle. “Oh, it would be a shame to leave you to that man”. His lips caress your ear. “But you won’t be with him for long”.

The worlds ring wrong, but you can't bring yourself to look away from him. You stand still, unable to move, overcome by ecstasy, destroyed by the intense passion that he effortlessly ignites within you.

“Battlefields are cruel. Soldiers get hurt” he continues, and his choice of topic is so strange that it snaps you back to reality. “It is not uncommon for a legate to lose his life in action”.

“What-” and it’s all you can get out before you're overcome with pleasure once again, completely helpless in its grip. You need more, need him, need something that will consume you entirely so you don't feel as dirty as you do in this moment.

Geta seems to understand. The fingers draw away; but before you can even register the loss, he aligns you with his cock and pushes inside.

You let out a sigh—in relief or shame or both—and his hand darts to your throat, not enough to cut off your air but just to silence your whine. The possessive way he grasps you only adds to your arousal.

“Yes, he won’t have you for much longer” he growls again. “I’ll make sure of that”. The confidence in his words is laced with lust: he exudes strength and control– yet, it seems that you have the power to unravel him just as much as he can unravel you.

The pace of his hips is bruising: almost too much to bear, but you can't get enough of it. He's claiming you as his own, branding you with every movement, inside and out.

“Tell me you are mine, just mine”.

“I am yours” you almost scream. “All yours, only yours”.

He lets out a rough groan, using the hand around your throat to grip your hair as he thrusts into you.

A thin layer of sweat has coated his forehead, furrowed brows and parted lips giving away his concentration. Whether it's the feeling of your burning flesh against his, or the whispered fantasies he keeps confessing to your skin, it has his body in a wreck of tension.

His lips leave your neck, chapped and red, his movements now erratic as he nears his impending orgasm.

He does not look at you when he comes: he rolls his eyes up at the dark sky, daring the Gods to judge him. You both dive into each other one last time, clawing, grasping, lost in fiery ecstasy that leaves you moaning beneath Geta as he empties himself inside you.

The act alone leaves you shaken, your back curved and legs trembling as you cry out at the top of your lungs. You hold onto his feverish and heated skin, so that when you come back to your senses the first sensation you feel is Geta—all over you, claiming you as his own.

He traces his fingers over your skin, and you feel completely undone. Spent.

As your heart rate slows and your breathing steadies, the sounds around you begin to resurface: the cacophony of laughter, gentle strumming of lyres, soldiers shouting at each other. You scan the peristylium, looking for any servants or guests meandering about.

“Hush, don’t worry” Geta says, redirecting your attention back to him.

He leans in closer, but instead of seeking another kiss, he simply rests his forehead against yours. “Soon, we won’t have to hide”.

He speaks of war again, and all the ways a man can perish: and as he does, a shadow creeps over his face, sinister and cold. You feel a chill run down your naked arms, this time not from shame.

Geta laughs and promises luxurious silks with precious jewels. He tells how perfect you will be by his side, in gold. How you will bear his heirs—and his alone.

The last time you dared to beg the gods for favour, you pleaded to be given to a man over another.

It seems just like a cruel joke how your wish was granted now—a jest that only serves to make you beg once more.

It’s true that you may never be as devoted as Lucilla is: and yet, as Geta pants beside you, her earlier words still echo in your mind.

Pacem et securitatem mihi largire [grant me peace and safety]

Et ne sinas me in bracchia malignorum cadere [and do not let me fall into the arms of the wicked ones].

[natsuminmin]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆ WHITE LIES -> michael kaiser fic !!!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOW PLAYING . . . ILYSB - STRIPPED by lany.

synopsis; in which you wonder when and what made kaiser want to propose to you, his darling partner cw: fluff, mentions of marriage/engagement, unproofread + lowercase, slight spoilers for his backstory, implied f!reader but can be interpreted as gn!, self-indulgent, perhaps ooc kaiser (lmk if i forget something!!!)

"ain't never felt this way . can't get enough so stay with me"

silence had fallen beneath your shared bedroom as you found yourself staring at the glinting sapphire on your ring finger, a sign of his devotion. had he been staring at you instead of the book he was reading, he'd see the gears turning in your head as you spoke:

"micha, why did you propose?"

"what?" kaiser turned to face you, the book forgotten as he placed it on the bedside table. when he processed your question, he scoffed.

"that's a stupid question. because you love me and i love you, obviously."

"No, duh! I meant like…what made you want to propose now?"

"oh, you should've worded it properly then, schatzi."

"don't be a prick, micha. well? the answer?"

a cocky grin graced his lips when he heard your snappy retort. he was silent for a while as he reminisced, his fingers sneakily trailing downwards to wrap around yours.

─── ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ───

the reason he proposed wasn't something exceptional, he thought.

it was on a random night, where the both of you were sitting in a comfortable darkness in the living room. his eyes trailed to your adorably scrunched up face as you tried to figure out how to share the screen of your phone to the tv so you could watch the show you had picked for movie night.

"this is stupid," you muttered under your breath "why does this site ask for so much…."

then you reached out for him, tapping on his shoulder and begrudgingly asking for his help. he recalled how badly he had wanted to release such a snarky remark, but held it back in the form of a nasty smirk. he didn't want to ruin movie night before it even started.

you had looped your arm around his without so much as a warning, as he messed with the buttons on your phone so he could get it connected. finally, he succeeded, bristling proudly as he set your phone down the table and turned his attention to the sappy romance movie you picked.

safe to say, he quickly got bored of it. so instead, he trailed his eyes downwards to you.

you, who was oh so engrossed in the movie, didn't even notice the intense gaze he inflicted on you. his gaze flickered to the lack of space between them, noticing the way your arms had interlocked with one another.

"wait...when did she..?"

he wasn't one to be unaware of what was touching his skin. he was an alert man, any single piece of physical contact never flew past his head. 'to hurt or be hurt,' he's learned at least that much from his scumbag of a father.

then it dawned on him.

he didn't notice because he didn't have the sinking feeling of nausea that always made itself known whenever someone touched him. your innocent caresses no longer triggered his fight-or-flight.

Instead, he felt...normal? Normal as in the way a whipped lover would feel when his partner flustered him. he felt his heart racing, but not from anxiety. it was from embarassment that a simple touch from the person he loved had him this riled up. He felt.....

...comfortable.

At that moment, kaiser made up his mind. he was going to put a pretty little ring on your finger, something that highlighted how precious you were to him (perhaps a blue stone...yes, he'd love to see his favorite color on you every single day), and marry you for good.

─── ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ───

he would never tell you that.

he didn't realize how badly he spaced out when you snapped your fingers in front of him.

"yo, kaiser. cat got your tongue?"

he clicked said tongue with irritation at your casual tone, wrapping his arms around your waist as he buried his nose between the crook of your neck.

"don't call me that. you know that's going to be your last name too, right?"

"please quit trying to change the subject, love. "

"fine, but only because you asked so nicely, schatzi." he murmured softly against your skin as he began recounting about some random date you had at the beach; blabbing about how the sun hit your hair perfectly, he got jealous of all the other couples proposing, its about time anyway, the view was pretty and so were you, all that cheesy stuff. he felt slightly guilty for not telling the truth, but he'd like to keep his sweet little revelation all to himself.

Besides, a little white lie never hurt sometimes.

"oh, my heart hurts so good . I love you, babe, so bad"

a/n: aaaaaaa first fic ?! thank uu so so much for reading! honestly, don't think so much of this lol, i wrote it at 3am while i was 'studying for finals.' i hope someone noticed in the middle of the fic but this was heavily based on brooklyn99 when peraltiago got engaged AHHH also i feel the title white lie was so fitting because....white = marriage usually...heh...get it...

[therogueflame]

Twins Plus One

Hi friends,

Here is the final version of The Twins Plus One, a fic I started off as an example text for my good friend Aera, and then it was suddenly 8.2k words, oops. Enjoy!

✨My Masterlist✨

Warnings: 18+, sex (p in v), oral (m!recieving), targcest (targaryen incest, mentioned regularly), threesome, multiple orgasm, cuckholding, no use of y/n, light descriptions of fem!reader

Cregan Stark x Wife!Reader x FraternalTwin!Jacaerys

MDNI!!!

You sat beside your new lord husband in the meal hall, the warmth of the hearth fighting the chill that had gripped your southerly bones. The table was laden with hearty northern fare—stewed meats, dark bread, and spiced porridge—each bite a balm against the frosty morning. Comfortable silence stretched between you and Cregan, his steady presence grounding you as the castle slowly came to life around you.

The creak of the door interrupted your thoughts, drawing your attention as a young steward entered hesitantly. He walked forward with measured steps, his voice steady despite his youth. “My Lord Stark,” he began, “Prince Jacaerys has been spotted atop his dragon less than a mile away.”

Your heart fluttered at the words, anticipation surging through your veins like wildfire. You turned to Cregan, struggling to keep the smile threatening to break through the stoic mask you’d carefully crafted since arriving in the North.

Cregan, however, remained calm, barely glancing up from his plate. “Thank you, Steward Falk. We will be there to greet him shortly,” he replied evenly, his tone unhurried, as though the arrival of a dragon and its prince was a common occurrence.

The steward hesitated for a moment, then bowed and retreated, leaving you alone once more. The fire crackled softly in the background, the only sound as you rose from your seat. “I shall go and prepare myself, then. I will meet you in the courtyard,” you said, your voice steady despite the excitement swirling within you.

Cregan looked up at you, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile. He nodded, taking a slow swig of his morning ale. “Very well, my lady,” he said simply, his deep voice carrying a quiet warmth.

You left the hall with deliberate steps that soon gave way to a quicker pace, your anticipation driving you forward. It had been nearly six months since you last saw Jace, and the ache of his absence had lingered every day since. Neither of you had ever grown accustomed to the silence that came with separation. You had spent your entire lives side by side, and now, for the first time, duty had driven a wedge between you.

Your mother, Queen Rhaenyra, had bestowed your hand in marriage to Cregan Stark as a royal favor, securing his unwavering loyalty amidst the war against the Greens. It had been a shock, to you and to Jace, for you had always assumed you would one day wed each other—as was the tradition of House Targaryen. But war had a way of reshaping plans, and the need for alliances outweighed sentiment.

And so, you had come to the North, leaving behind the warmth of Dragonstone and the brother who had been your other half. Yet, despite your initial fears, you had found a kind of solace here. Cregan Stark was a man of unshakable honor, his rugged charm and steady presence offering a different kind of warmth. His towering frame and wolfish features complemented your fiery blood, a balance of North and South, ice and fire. He had become your home in a way you hadn’t expected, his strength and tenderness creating a bond you cherished.

Not only was he kind and loyal, but his passion burned as fiercely as yours. The nights you spent together in your marriage bed had opened a door to desires you had never known. While you had not denied yourself pleasures as a maiden on Dragonstone, Cregan’s touch brought an intimacy and rawness that surpassed anything you had experienced before. He made you feel wanted, worshipped, alive.

Yet, as you climbed the steps to your chambers, your thoughts drifted to Jace. Memories of your childhood together flooded your mind with a bittersweet clarity. He had a dragon; you did not. He teased you for your lack of effort, while you claimed you wanted no such responsibility. His hair was a warm brown and his eyes dark, while your hair shimmered like moonlight, and your eyes were the palest shade of lilac. He was measured and composed, while you spoke without restraint, always saying the first thing that came to mind.

Growing up, you had been inseparable, exploring not only the world around you but each other. “One soul, two bodies,” they had whispered on Dragonstone, a remark often meant to discourage the time you spent together. But it was true. You were his confidant, his sister, the bold flame to his tempered one. You were his lover.

The thought made you pause as you reached your dressing table. You smoothed the fabric of your black gown, your fingers brushing over the intricate red and white embroidery—a design that symbolized your Targaryen blood and the house you now represented. The striking contrast of the dark fabric with the vibrant stitching felt like a bridge between your two worlds, and it gave you a quiet strength.

Your hands trembled slightly as you swept your hair into a simple side braid, the anticipation thrumming through you too much to allow for anything more elaborate. The reflection staring back at you in the mirror was a mixture of composed elegance and barely contained excitement. Taking a deep breath, you draped the thick white fur coat over your shoulders—the one Cregan had gifted you on your wedding day. It was impossibly soft and warm, and you couldn’t help but love how its stark brightness contrasted with Cregan’s dark, commanding black cloak.

With one last glance at your reflection, you squared your shoulders, the weight of the moment settling over you. The castle felt alive, the air buzzing with the knowledge of who was arriving. And you—ready or not—would greet him, as both sister and the Lady of Winterfell.

You made your way down to the courtyard, where Cregan stood flanked by his courtiers, awaiting Jacaerys’s arrival. The fresh snow crunched softly beneath your boots, the chill in the air sharp but invigorating as you approached. The crisp northern wind carried with it the faint scent of pine and smoke from the castle’s hearths.

Cregan was deep in conversation with one of his men, his broad shoulders framed by the dark fur of his cloak. Without hesitation, you stepped to his side and slipped your hand into his, the simple gesture announcing your presence. The warmth of his palm against yours was grounding, a silent reassurance in the excitement swirling within you.

At the touch of your hand, Cregan turned toward you, his sharp gray eyes softening as they met yours. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he waved the man off with a curt nod, his full attention now devoted to you.

“My lady wife,” he said with a smile that reached his eyes, his voice rich with warmth. “I will never grow tired of seeing you in this cloak.” His gaze swept over you, lingering with quiet admiration before his hands rose to cradle your face. He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin.

Your eyes fluttered closed at the touch, a gentle sigh escaping you as you melted into the familiar comfort of his affection. His hands lingered for a moment longer, steady and grounding, before one slipped to take yours. “And this dress, my love,” he murmured, stepping back just enough to take in the full sight of you. “What a choice you’ve made.”

With a slight tug, he beckoned you to spin, the embroidery catching the light as the fabric flowed gracefully. The intricate patterns told a story of unity, weaving together the symbols of the two great houses as seamlessly as your lives had been joined.

“Do you like it?” you asked, your voice soft as a blush warmed your cheeks.

“I love it,” he growled, his voice low and full of conviction. Before you could respond, his hands found your waist, pulling you close as his lips claimed yours in a deep, unrestrained kiss. His affection was unabashed, displayed boldly for the entire courtyard to see. The kiss lingered, warm and consuming, until a piercing shriek shattered the moment.

You broke away, breathless, your cheeks flushed and your lips tingling. Your head snapped upward, your heart leaping as you caught sight of Vermax circling above. The dragon’s shriek echoed through the courtyard, and your eyes lit with excitement, the sight of your brother’s dragon bringing a rush of memories and emotions.

Your hand tightened instinctively around Cregan’s, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. As Vermax descended, his powerful wings stirring the snow-dusted ground, you could just make out Jace atop the saddle. He was still too far to see clearly, but you didn’t need to. You felt his presence like a flame reigniting something dormant within you.

Every fiber of your being ached to run to him, to throw yourself into his arms as you had so many times before. But duty—and propriety—rooted you in place. Instead, you turned to Cregan, your excitement uncontainable, your grin as bright as a child’s on their name day.

As Jace strides forward, your eyes remain fixed on him, drinking in the sight as if he is the most beautiful vision the gods have ever blessed you with. He is slim, like you, but there is a quiet strength in the way he carries himself. His dark curls frame his face, and you realize with a pang just how much you’ve missed every detail—the way his eyes glint with warmth, the faint curve of his lips when he smiles.

Vermax lets out a low, rumbling complaint, his golden-green scales glinting faintly in the northern light as he shifts restlessly. Jace glances back at his dragon with an easy smile, the kind that speaks of an unbreakable bond. The ill-tempered beast’s antics earn a quiet chuckle from his rider before Jace turns his attention forward again.

Cregan releases your hand, his fingers brushing yours in a subtle farewell, and strides toward Jace with measured steps. The two men meet halfway, the wind stirring the snow around them as the moment hangs heavy with warmth and welcome.

“My Prince,” Cregan bows his head, “What an honor to have you back at Winterfell.” Cregan clasps Jace’s forearm in greeting, his grip firm and warm despite the chill in the air. “I trust your flight was well?”

“My Lord Stark, the honor is all mine,” Jace replies, his voice cordial but tinged with fatigue. He flashes that smile that had always lit up even the darkest of days on Dragonstone. “The flight was well enough, though long. Dare I say I grow weary of being on dragonback for what feels like endless days. Vermax, too, was eager to find solid ground and rest his wings. The North's skies, beautiful as they are, stretch farther than I had remembered.”

Cregan chuckles lightly. “Aye, our skies are vast, and our winters endless, or so it sometimes feels. I hope the warmth of Winterfell can offer some comfort to you and your dragon after such a journey.”

Jace inclines his head with a faint smile. “A hearth to sit by and a meal to share with good company will do much to lift my spirits—and Vermax, I trust, will be content with a quiet perch and a hearty meal of his own.” 

You try to stay still, to hold onto some semblance of decorum, but your heart feels like it might burst. Jace’s presence fills the courtyard, commanding attention as he exchanges words with Cregan, but your focus narrows solely to him. His voice—so familiar yet matured by time and distance—pulls at something deep within you. You barely hear their conversation, your excitement drowning out the words.

The moment Cregan releases his grip on Jace’s forearm and takes a step back, you can’t contain yourself any longer. You lift your skirts slightly and rush forward, your laughter spilling into the crisp northern air. “Jace!”

He turns toward you just in time, his expression shifting from surprise to unrestrained joy. The fatigue in his eyes fades as you throw yourself into his arms, your momentum making him stagger slightly before he catches you effortlessly. His arms wrap around you, warm and strong, as he lifts you off the ground and spins you, just as he used to when you were children.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” he says, his voice filled with laughter as he holds you tightly. Your skirts billow in the wind, catching the snow-dusted breeze, but you don’t care who’s watching. All that matters is this moment—having your twin back in your arms.

“And you’re still late,” you tease breathlessly, pulling back just enough to look at his face. “I’ve been waiting for ages.”

“I missed you too, sister,” he replies, his voice quieter now, his dark curls framing his face in a way that softens his usual sharpness. His eyes glint with warmth, the bond between you as unbreakable as ever.

From the corner of your eye, you catch Cregan standing with his arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “I should have known I’d be second to greet you, Prince Jacaerys.”

Jace sets you back on your feet, his hands lingering on your shoulders as he grins at your husband. “Forgive me, my lord, but she’s never been good at waiting.”

“And I never will be,” you add, lacing your arm through Jace’s, refusing to let him go just yet. “Not for you.”

Cregan chuckles, his deep voice warm. “I see there’s no competing with twins.”

Jace looks down at you, his smile softening. “Not when you’ve been apart for this long.”

Cregan steps back with a knowing smile, his hands clasped behind his back. “I’ll leave you to your reunion,” he says, his deep voice warm and steady. His gaze lingers on you for a moment, soft with understanding, before he nods to Jace and turns toward the gathered onlookers, giving you both the privacy he knows you need.

You glance back at Jace, your arm still looped through his, but your eyes flicker to the towering form of Vermax. The great dragon shifts restlessly, his tail swishing through the snow, sending up puffs of frost. His golden-green scales glint faintly even in the muted northern light, and his sharp, intelligent eyes seem to search for you.

With a grin tugging at your lips, you release Jace’s arm and take a step toward the beast that looms like a mountain of muscle and fire. Vermax watches you approach, his head lowering slightly, nostrils flaring as his hot breath puffs against the cold air. The warmth he radiates is almost tangible, a stark contrast to the biting chill around you.

“Hi, old friend,” you say softly, your voice carrying just enough to reach him. Your hand rises instinctively, and Vermax lets out a low, rumbling croon, the sound vibrating through the air and your chest. He leans his massive head closer, his jeweled eyes fixed on you with an almost affectionate curiosity.

You press your palm to the smooth scales of his snout, marveling at the familiar warmth beneath your fingers. “It’s been too long,” you whisper, your voice tender. “You’ve grown even more magnificent.”

Behind you, Jace chuckles softly, his voice rich with amusement. “I think he missed you nearly as much as I did.”

“You’ve always had a way with him,” Jace says, his voice quieter now, a note of admiration slipping through the weariness.

You meet his gaze, holding it for a heartbeat longer than you should. “And I always will,” you reply softly, your lips curving into a small smile. There’s a warmth in his eyes, something deeper than his words, but you push it aside as you step closer and slip your hand into his. “Come. Winterfell isn’t as forgiving as Dragonstone, and I’d rather not have you freezing out here.”

Jace doesn’t resist, his hand fitting into yours as though it had never let go. As you guide him toward the keep, the snow crunching under your boots, the quiet settles between you—not uncomfortable, but charged, as if the air holds the weight of every memory you’ve shared.

“Things have changed,” he says suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice is measured, but there’s something wistful beneath it. “You. Me. Everything.”

You glance back at him, your brow arching slightly. “We’re not children anymore, Jace,” you say lightly, though your heart twists at the reminder. “Life changes. That’s what it does.”

“And yet,” he murmurs, his gaze fixed on you, “some things don’t.”

You falter for just a moment, your steps slowing as his words hang between you. You don’t turn to face him, afraid of what you might see in his eyes—or worse, what he might see in yours. “Don’t, Jace,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not here. Not now.”

The warmth of his hand tightens ever so slightly, and you hate how much you notice it, how much you miss it when you let go to push open the heavy doors to the keep. The firelight spills out into the corridor, bathing you both in its golden glow, but it does little to ease the ache building in your chest.

As you step inside, Jace’s presence feels both too close and too far. You know the walls of Winterfell are not kind to secrets, and you know that your love for Cregan is true. But Jace—Jace was your first love, the other half of your soul, the person who knew every piece of you before you even understood it yourself. That part of you will always belong to him, no matter where life’s currents have carried you.

“I’ve missed this,” he says, his voice soft and raw, as he follows you down the torch-lit corridor. “Not just being here. You. Us.”

You glance over your shoulder, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “It’s good to have you here, Jace,” you say, sidestepping the words he wants to hear, the words you can’t bring yourself to say. “Winterfell’s been quieter without you.”

He lets out a quiet laugh, though it carries a hollow edge. “Quiet isn’t always a good thing.”

You lead him toward the great hall, the scent of pinewood smoke and roasted meat growing stronger with each step. For a moment, you let yourself imagine a different life—one where the traditions of your house hadn’t demanded so much of you, one where duty hadn’t been placed above love. But it’s a fleeting thought, one that you bury as quickly as it surfaces.

As you pause just outside the hall, Jace reaches for your hand again, his touch as familiar as the way your name sounds on his lips. “We were supposed to end up together,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. There’s no accusation in it, just a quiet truth that neither of you can deny.

You don’t pull away this time. Instead, you meet his gaze, your heart breaking a little under the weight of everything you can’t say. “I know,” you whisper. “But life had other plans.”

For a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you, the unspoken past and the impossible future colliding in the space between. Then, from within the hall, you hear Cregan’s voice, steady and commanding, calling your name. The sound pulls you back to the present, grounding you.

You step away from Jace, your hand slipping from his as you turn toward the hall. “Come,” you say softly, glancing back at him one last time. “Winterfell is yours for as long as you’re here.”

He follows, his steps quiet, but the way his gaze lingers on you tells you he’s already counting the days until he must leave again.

The great hall of Winterfell was alive with warmth and merriment, the crackling of the hearth mixing with the hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. The busy day had given way to a night of comfort, the excitement of Prince Jacaerys’s arrival lingering in the air like a shared secret. The North’s famous hospitality was on full display—platters of roasted meats, thick stews, and hearty bread lined the tables, while goblets brimmed with mulled wine and ale.

The hours since Jace’s arrival had passed in a blur of formal greetings and quiet reunions. You had spent much of the day guiding him through Winterfell, showing him the changes to your new home while reminiscing about the past. His presence brought a warmth to the cold halls, but now, as the feast began, the formalities melted into the simple joy of being together.

You sat between Jace and Cregan, the firelight dancing across the three of you as the evening wore on. Jace, for all his charm and easy smiles, was quieter than usual. He laughed when prompted, offered polite responses to Cregan’s stories, but you could see the fatigue etched into the lines of his face.

As the hour grew late, Jace leaned back in his chair, his goblet nearly untouched. He stretched slightly, the movement subtle, but enough for you to catch it. He was holding himself together out of courtesy, but you knew him too well to miss the signs of exhaustion.

Cregan, mid-sentence in a tale about a hunt from earlier in the season, paused as Jace set his goblet down and rose to his feet. “My lord, my sister,” Jace began, inclining his head toward the two of you. “Forgive me, but the journey has taken more out of me than I realized. I must excuse myself and retire for the night.”

Cregan nodded, his expression understanding. “Of course, Prince Jacaerys. You’ve earned your rest. We’ll see you at the breaking of the fast.”

Jace turned his gaze to you, his dark eyes warm despite the weariness in them. “Goodnight, sister,” he said, his voice soft but steady.

You offered him a small smile. “Goodnight, brother. Rest well.”

He inclined his head once more and strode out of the hall, his steps steady but slower than usual. The door closed behind him with a faint creak, leaving the warmth and revelry of the hall behind.

The walk back to your chambers was quiet but charged, the air between you and Cregan warm despite the chill of Winterfell’s stone halls. His hand lingered at the small of your back, steady and sure, guiding you through the dimly lit corridors. The firelight from your chambers spilled into the hallway as he pushed the door open, allowing you both to step into the inviting glow.

Cregan moved to pour himself another goblet of wine, watching you as you leaned casually against the mantle. The firelight played across your features, casting soft shadows over your skin. He studied you for a moment before speaking, his voice low and smooth. “You and Jace… you’ve always had a bond. It’s different. Stronger.”

You met his gaze, your lips curving slightly, but there was a flicker of something in your eyes—nostalgia, maybe, or something deeper. “We are twins,” you said simply, though the words carried weight. “But more than that. Growing up, there was no one else like him. He was mine, and I was his.”

Cregan raised an eyebrow, swirling the wine in his goblet. “Yours,” he echoed, his tone curious. “How so?”

You let out a soft laugh, stepping away from the hearth and crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed. “Jace and I had what we called ‘twin time.’ An hour, every day, just for us. No lessons, no court, no responsibilities. No one else allowed.”

He leaned back against the table, his goblet forgotten in his hand. “And what did this ‘twin time’ entail?”

A slow smile spread across your lips, the memory heating your cheeks slightly. “Whatever we wanted. Sometimes, we’d talk. Other times, we’d sneak out to the cliffs and just sit there, watching the sea.” You paused, your gaze drifting toward the fire. “But as we got older… things changed. Twin time became something… more.”

Cregan’s gray eyes darkened slightly, his interest unmistakable as he stepped closer. “More,” he repeated, his voice dipping lower. “How much more?”

You glanced up at him, your pulse quickening under his steady gaze. “Enough that people began to notice,” you admitted, your voice softer now, tinged with something you couldn’t quite name. “We shared everything. Not just secrets, or dreams, but… everything.”

Cregan set his goblet down on the table, his hands resting on either side as he leaned toward you slightly. “And now?” he asked, his voice rougher, more deliberate. “Does he still hold that part of you?”

Your lips curved again, though this time the smile was slower, more intimate. “Jace will always be a part of me,” you said, your tone light but charged. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not exactly where I want to be.”

He straightened slightly, his eyes locked on yours, his interest piqued but his expression unreadable. “You’re an intriguing woman,” he said finally, his voice carrying a faint edge of amusement. “I’m starting to think I’ll never fully unravel you.”

You tilted your head, your smile widening as you rose to your feet, closing the space between you. “Good,” you said softly, your voice taking on a playful lilt. “Where would the fun be in that?”

Cregan reached out, his hand brushing against your waist, his touch deliberate but teasing. “Fair enough,” he murmured, his gaze dipping for just a moment before returning to yours. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about how far this ‘twin time’ went.”

You let out a low laugh, tilting your head up slightly as your fingers toyed with the edge of his tunic. “Some things are better left to the imagination, my lord,” you teased, your voice warm and laced with suggestion.

His hand tightened slightly on your waist, a soft hum escaping his lips. “You’re a cruel woman,” he said, though the faint smirk tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement.

“And yet, you married me anyway,” you quipped, leaning closer as the firelight danced between you.

The rest of the night stretched ahead, the warmth of the fire and the charged air between you promising no shortage of intrigue and intimacy.

It was the Hour of the Wolf, the darkest and stillest time of night. Jace wandered the cold halls of Winterfell, missing the warmth of the south and the closeness of his family. He was wrapped in a borrowed wolf-fur coat—one of Cregan’s—which hung loosely on his frame, nearly two sizes too large. His sword rested at his hip, his hand gripping the hilt tightly as though it could offer some reassurance against the chill that seeped into his bones.

His mind was restless, caught in an endless cycle of thoughts. The looming war dominated most of his worries, but beneath that weight was you—always you. For the first time in his life, he had spent more than a moon’s turn away from his beloved twin. Six months had passed since Jace had escorted you north for your wedding to Cregan Stark. He had known this day would come eventually—duty demanded it—but he hadn’t expected it to arrive so shortly after your twentieth nameday.

Cregan was a good man, steadfast and loyal, and one of the crown’s closest allies. Jace and Cregan were like brothers, and yet, Jace couldn’t shake the thought that he should have been the one by your side. Your husband. The way it had always been meant to be.

As he walks, his thoughts run wild over the last time he saw you in front of him. The way your hair, the pale silver of your mother’s lineage, cascaded down your back. The soft curve of your waist that complimented the curve of your breasts, and the pale violet of your eyes that reflected your undeniable Targaryen heritage.

 You were his. And he was yours.

For a moment, the thought settled over him like a weight, but then a sound drew him from his reverie. Passing your chambers, he stilled, his ears catching faint noises from within. Muffled voices, sharp and low, and then a series of sounds—furniture creaking, a soft gasp, followed by something that almost sounded like a stifled cry. The noise carried through the heavy wooden door, unmistakable in the quiet of the castle.

Weary and restless, his mind leapt to the worst. Panic surged through him as his grip on his sword tightened. What if you were in danger? What if someone had crept into your chambers while Winterfell slept? He didn’t think. He acted.

Jace pushed the heavy door open swiftly, the sound of it echoing through the hall. His sword was in his hand in an instant, the blade glinting in the faint firelight as he prepared to strike down whoever dared to harm you.

And then he saw you.

You were mid-struggle, but not for your life. The man pinning you was no enemy, no intruder. It was Cregan, his bare shoulders broad and familiar, his dark hair tousled as he pressed against you with an intensity Jace couldn’t ignore. The noises he’d heard—your gasps, the creaking of the bed—suddenly made sense, and the realization hit him like a blow.

Cregan looked up at the sudden interruption, his expression calm, almost amused, despite the clear intrusion. His large frame hovered over you, his palms pressed firmly against the bed on either side of your head, poised with an authority that seemed unshaken by the scene unfolding.

You tilted your head back toward the door, your view of the world upside down as you murmured, “Jace?”

Cregan leaned back onto his knees, his broad chest rising and falling steadily, but he made no move to cover either of you. “Are you going to stand there like a frail pup,” he drawled, his northern accent thick, “or are you going to join us?”

Your eyes flew open wide as you shot a look at him, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Cregan!” you hissed, but he continued undeterred, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smirk.

“Your dear sister told me about what it was like growing up with you,” he said, his voice steady and low, as though he were commenting on the weather. “Targaryens and their queer customs,” he said, his tone calm but edged with dry amusement. “Still, traditions run deep, don’t they? Even here in the North.”

Jace stood frozen in the doorway, his sword still drawn, his mouth slightly open as he tried to process what he was seeing—and hearing. The confident, unshakable Prince of Dragonstone looked utterly lost for words, his dark eyes wide with shock.

“Jace,” you said, your voice softer now, though tinged with exasperation. “If you’re going to stand and watch, could you at least shut the door?”

Snapped from his stupor, Jace scurried to shut the door behind him, the heavy wood groaning on its hinges. His sword found its way back to its scabbard as he turned to face the room, his expression still a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

“Come, my young prince,” Cregan said, rising from the bed with a deliberate slowness that made his towering frame all the more imposing. “I want to see how you pleasured her in the south. She is always saying how much she misses you.”

“Cregan!” you said again, though there was no denying the flush spreading across your cheeks—or the way your lips curved into a faint, playful smile.

Rolling onto your stomach, you propped yourself up on your elbows, your gaze flicking between your husband and your twin. “My dear brother,” you teased, your voice light and warm despite the tension in the room. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so speechless.”

Jace’s mouth opened and closed as he looked between you and Cregan, his confusion giving way to nervousness. He shifted uncomfortably, as though unsure whether to move forward or retreat. “Are you… sure?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual, laced with hesitation.

You tilted your head, studying him with a fond smile. “It’ll be just like old times, brother,” you purred. “You always did have your way with me.”

Cregan moved toward Jace, clapping a firm hand on his shoulder, the weight of it steady and grounding. “Relax, lad,” he said with a chuckle. “The North is colder than the South, but we know how to make things warm.”

You rise gracefully from the bed, the firelight casting a golden glow over your bare skin as you cross the room toward where Cregan and Jace stand. The flickering flames seem to dance across your body, enhancing every smooth curve with an almost ethereal brilliance. Basking in the warmth, the blood of the dragon within you seems to stir, igniting a presence that is both commanding and effortless.

Your movements are unhurried, deliberate, each step carrying the confidence born of your lineage. There is no shame in your nudity; the fire of Old Valyria burns bright within you, and it demands to be seen.

Jace’s gaze is fixed on you, his dark eyes tracing every inch of your form as though committing you to memory. He hasn’t seen you like this in months—not since Dragonstone, where the two of you had shared moments of intimacy so profound that time itself seemed to stand still. Now, he is frozen in place, his tension palpable, his breath uneven. Yet beneath the restraint, there is something else: a mix of longing, reverence, and the faintest hint of disbelief, as though you are a vision he never thought he’d behold again.

You reach for him, your fingers brushing his cheek in a familiar, tender gesture. Leaning closer, your lips graze the curve of his neck, a breathy kiss that makes him shiver under your touch. His borrowed wolf-fur cloak slides from his shoulders with ease as your hands find the fastening of his tunic, the fabric parting beneath your deft fingers.

Behind you, Cregan moves silently, retreating to the foot of the bed. His presence lingers, calm and watchful, his steady gaze drinking in the scene as though it were a rare hunt unfolding before him.

You smile against Jace’s neck, your touch soothing and guiding, coaxing the tension from his frame. Gently, you take his hands and place them at the small of your back, encouraging him to hold you as he once did, to let the moment bridge the space that had grown between you.

Jace's hands trembled slightly as they settled on your skin, but the familiar warmth of your body against his seemed to awaken something within him. His touch grew more confident, fingers tracing the curve of your spine as he pulled you closer.

"I've missed you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His lips found yours, the kiss tentative at first but quickly deepening with months of longing and separation.

You melted into his embrace, your body remembering his touch as if no time had passed. Your fingers tangled in his dark curls, tugging gently as the kiss intensified. The taste of him, the scent of him - it was all achingly familiar, like coming home after a long journey.

"That's it," Cregan murmured, his deep voice carrying across the room. "Show me how you used to please her, Prince Jacaerys."

Jace broke the kiss, his breath coming in short pants as he glanced over your shoulder at Cregan. There was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, but it was quickly overwhelmed by the desire burning within him. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips found the curve of your neck.

You tilted your head, giving him better access as a soft moan escaped your lips. Your fingers worked at the laces of his breeches, eager to feel more of him. "Jace," you breathed, your voice husky with want.

Jace's teeth grazed your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Gods, I've dreamed of this," he murmured against your neck, his hands roaming your body with growing confidence.

You arched into his touch, relishing the familiar feel of his hands on your skin. With deft fingers, you finished unlacing his breeches, pushing them down his hips along with his smallclothes. Jace stepped out of them, kicking them aside as he pulled you closer

His arousal pressed against your stomach, hot and insistent. You wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly as you captured his lips in another searing kiss. Jace groaned into your mouth, his hips bucking involuntarily into your touch.

You guided Jace backwards towards the bed, your lips never leaving his as you moved together in a familiar dance. The back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress and he sat, pulling you down to straddle his lap. His hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples as you ground against him.

"Show me," Cregan's deep voice rumbled from beside the bed. "Show me how you used to take your pleasure from each other."

You broke the kiss, gazing into Jace's dark eyes as you lifted your hips. He gripped himself, positioning at your entrance as you slowly sank down onto him. Twin gasps escaped your lips as you were joined once more, the feeling of completeness overwhelming after so many months apart.

You began to move, rolling your hips in a slow, sensual rhythm as Jace filled you completely. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements as he thrust up to meet you. The familiar stretch and fullness of him inside you sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Gods, you feel incredible," Jace groaned, his head falling back as you rode him. His eyes were heavy-lidded with desire, drinking in the sight of you above him.

You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Your tongues danced as you moved together, rediscovering the perfect synchronicity you'd always shared. Jace's hands roamed your body, caressing and kneading as if trying to memorize every curve and plane.

From the side of the bed, Cregan watched intently, his gray eyes dark with arousal.

As you and Jace became lost in each other, you glanced over your shoulder at Cregan, who stood there, unmoving yet fully aroused. His heated gaze sent a thrill through you, only adding to the mounting fire within. You lifted your hips higher, grinding against Jace with a newfound urgency, your breath hitching in your throat as the sensations intensified.

You bit your lip to stifle a moan, your eyes locked with Cregan's. He knew what you wanted without a word being spoken. Slowly, he approached the bed, his steps measured and deliberate.

Cregan joined you on the bed, his large frame dwarfing both you and Jace. His rough hands caressed your back as you continued to ride Jace, sending shivers down your spine. You leaned back slightly, pressing against Cregan's broad chest.

Jace's eyes widened as he took in the sight of you sandwiched between them. His hips stuttered in their rhythm for a moment before he regained his composure, thrusting up into you with renewed vigor.

Cregan's lips found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder, sucking and nipping as one hand snaked around to cup your breast. His other hand trailed lower, fingers circling your most sensitive spot as Jace continued to fill you.

The dual stimulation was almost too much. You cried out, your back arching as waves of pleasure washed over you.

The sensations overwhelmed you as Cregan and Jace worked in tandem, their touches igniting every nerve ending. Cregan's skilled fingers circled your sensitive bud as Jace thrust deeply inside you, the combination bringing you to dizzying heights of pleasure.

You threw your head back against Cregan's broad shoulder, a breathless moan escaping your lips. "Gods, yes," you gasped, your body trembling between them.

Jace's dark eyes were fixed on your face, drinking in every expression of ecstasy. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements as he drove up into you with increasing urgency.

"That's it, love," Cregan murmured in your ear, his deep voice rough with desire. "Let go for us. Show us how good it feels."

His words pushed you over the edge.

Your climax crashed over you in waves of searing pleasure, your body trembling between them as you cried out. Your inner walls clenched around Jace, drawing a deep groan from him as his thrusts became erratic.

"Gods, I'm close," Jace gasped, his fingers digging into your hips.

Cregan's hand left your sensitive bud, and you let out a exasperated whine as the sensation ceased. "Not yet, lad," he growled. "She can take more."

With surprising strength, Cregan lifted you off Jace, eliciting whimpers of protest from both of you at the loss of contact. But before you could voice any complaints, Cregan had you on your hands and knees on the bed.

"Take her from behind," Cregan commanded Jace, his tone brooking no argument.

Jace didn't hesitate, moving behind you and entering you once more with a low groan. His hands gripped your hips as he set a punishing pace, driving into you with renewed vigor. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, your oversensitive body trembling.

Cregan knelt in front of you, his large hand cupping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His gray eyes were dark with lust as he looked down at you. "Open," he commanded, his voice husky.

You parted your lips obediently, watching as Cregan freed himself from his breeches. He was impressively large, and your mouth watered at the sight. Slowly, he guided himself between your lips, letting out a deep groan as you took him in.

Cregan's impressive length filled your mouth as Jace continued to thrust into you from behind. The dual sensations were overwhelming, pleasure coursing through your body with each movement. You moaned around Cregan, the vibrations making him groan deeply.

Jace's fingers dug into your hips as he pounded into you relentlessly. "Gods, you feel amazing," he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure.

Cregan's hand tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as you took him deeper. His other hand cupped your cheek tenderly, a stark contrast to the intensity of his thrusts.

The room was filled with the heady scent of sex and sweat as the three of you moved together in a primal rhythm. Jace's thrusts grew more erratic as he neared his peak, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave marks. Cregan guided your movements with a firm hand tangled in your hair, his impressive length sliding between your lips.

Every inch of your body trembled with pleasure, caught between the passionate thrusts of Jace behind you and the powerful presence of Cregan in front of you. Your senses were overwhelmed as Jace's deep and forceful movements sent waves of ecstasy through your core, igniting every nerve ending in your body. The weight of Cregan on your tongue added an extra layer of intensity, his taste and scent filling your mouth as he moved with a controlled rhythm. You were consumed by the intense sensations, lost in a world of pure pleasure that seemed to have no end.

Jace's movements grew more desperate as he chased his release. His fingers dug into your hips, sure to leave marks, as he pounded into you relentlessly. "I'm close," he gasped, his voice strained.

Cregan's hand tightened in your hair, guiding your movements as you took him deeper. "That's it," he growled. "Show us how well you can please us both, little dragon."

The overwhelming intensity of their combined attentions sent you spiraling towards another climax. Waves of pleasure surged through your body as Jace's firm thrusts found and stimulated just the right spot. With each movement, a low moan escaped your lips and traveled along Cregan's length, causing him to let out a deep groan in response. The air was thick with the scent of desire and the sounds of passion as you surrendered to the pleasure they were giving you. It was like being caught in a whirlwind of sensation, unable to control your own body as it responded to their skilled touch. And in that moment, nothing else mattered except the pure ecstasy that consumed every inch of your being.

Jace's movements grew frantic as he neared his peak. "I can't hold back much longer," he gasped, his fingers digging into your hips.

Cregan released his grip on your hair, allowing you to pull back. "Let go, lad," he commanded. "Fill her up."

With a few final, powerful thrusts, Jace let out a deep, guttural moan as he found his release. The sensation of him pulsing inside you sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. Your muscles clenched and released in perfect rhythm with his, amplifying the intensity of your second climax. As you shuddered between them, pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, consuming your senses and leaving you breathless. Even as Jace continued to move through his own orgasm, you were lost in the blissful aftermath of yours, feeling completely surrendered to the pleasure coursing through every inch of your being.

Now it was Cregan's turn to fulfill your deepest desires and fill your womb with his potent seed. Where Jace's touch was gentle yet intense, Cregan possessed a raw, untamed energy that ignited a fire within you. His primal nature and unbridled passion were like a wild winter storm, sweeping you away in a frenzy of pleasure.

As you came down from your climax, Jace slowly withdrew, collapsing onto the bed beside you. Your body trembled with aftershocks as Cregan gently guided you to lie back.

"My turn," Cregan growled, his gray eyes dark with desire as he positioned himself between your thighs. He entered you in one smooth thrust, filling you completely. You gasped at the sensation, still sensitive from your previous orgasms.

Cregan set a relentless pace, his powerful hips driving into you. Where Jace had been passionate yet gentle, Cregan was raw power and primal need. His large hands gripped your thighs, spreading you wider as he pounded into you.

"Gods, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice rough with pleasure. "So wet for me. So wet for your brother,” he praised, each word punctuated with the thrust of his hips.

Your cries of pleasure echoed through the chamber as Cregan drove into you with powerful thrusts. His large hands gripped your thighs, spreading you wide as he pounded relentlessly. The bed creaked beneath you with the force of his movements.

"That's it, love," Cregan growled, his gray eyes dark with lust as he gazed down at you. "Take all of me."

Beside you, Jace watched with hooded eyes, his hand lazily stroking himself back to hardness. The sight of you writhing in pleasure beneath Cregan seemed to awaken something primal in him.

Cregan's relentless pace drove you higher, building the pressure within you once more. Your hands clutched at his broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you cried out in pleasure. The room was filled with the sounds of flesh meeting flesh and your breathless moans.

"So beautiful," Cregan growled, his voice rough with desire. "Taking us both so well."

Jace moved closer, his hand trailing down your body to where you and Cregan were joined. His fingers found your sensitive bud, circling it in time with Cregan's thrusts. The dual stimulation was overwhelming, pushing you rapidly towards another peak.

"That's it, sister," Jace murmured, his dark eyes fixed on your face. "Let go for us again."

Your body arched off the bed as another intense climax crashed over you, waves of pleasure radiating through every nerve. You cried out, inner walls clenching around Cregan as your release washed over you.

Cregan growled deeply, his thrusts becoming erratic as your tightening pushed him over the edge. With a final powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his seed spilling deep within your womb. The feeling of his hot release triggered aftershocks of pleasure that had you trembling beneath him.

As you both came down from your highs, Cregan carefully withdrew and collapsed beside you on the bed. You lay there panting, sandwiched between your husband and your twin, your body still tingling from the intense pleasure.

Jace's hand trailed lazily up and down your side as Cregan pulled you close against his chest.

The three of you lay tangled together on the bed, your bodies glistening with a thin sheen of sweat in the firelight. The room was heavy with the scent of sex and the lingering echoes of pleasure. For a long moment, the only sound was your collective heavy breathing as you all came down from the intense high.

Cregan's large hand splayed possessively across your stomach, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin. Jace's fingers intertwined with yours, a familiar comfort that sent a pang of bittersweet longing through your chest.

"Well," Cregan rumbled, his deep voice tinged with satisfaction, "I'd say that was a successful reunion."

You couldn't help the soft laugh that escaped your lips, turning your head to press a kiss to Cregan's bearded jaw. "Indeed it was, my lord," you murmur.