꒰ঌ lady jane ໒꒱

having another person around, especially caring for him, makes it more obvious that his whole.... thing, is not so good for him & that it could be a burden

but, you knew what you were getting into with syd & you like taking care of him

you make your comments here & there about his bad habits out of concern for his wellbeing but you dont try to make him feel bad

so you both try. you try to help him feel better when he does get sick, & he tries not to get sick so often.

he will give you the world & anything else you desire bc he does feel guilt about you taking care of him constantly, plus that you motivate him to get better

also he is utterly in love with you bc of all that & bc you somehow still love him even after seeing him covered in blood or snot or sweat

when syd is feeling well, he takes care of you with the same amount of effort, just in a different way

you're spoiled, essentially. with evenings out, with affection, with gifts, everything.

especially when his latest bout of virus or infection was particularly bad & you had to shoot him up with some kind of medication or clean him a lot

after you bathe him, syd looks up at you weakly but his eyes say everything his voice is struggling to express to you - gratitude, admiration, desire

on occasion, when syd is particularly drained, he'll cry while you give him meds & comb his hair

the guilt gets to him, bc both of you know how he gets sick & he knows he should stop it

its an addiction, honestly, & one that can pay him for each time he does it so its especially hard to quit

you understand that too, which means you also understand that it isn't a quick process to get syd out of that habit

"You should move on, sweetheart, I ain't interested." The silver-haired card player spoke, his tone as level and stoic as the poker face he wore when he was playing the tournament.

You gave him a look, feigning offense as you leaned down and wrapped your arms loosely around his neck to whisper in his ear: "What do you think I'm offering you, mister?"

He turned his head to glance at you, "It's William."

"Well, William, you haven't answered my question." You smiled, reaching to fix the chain of glittering glass rhinestones looped around your hip.

"You came up to me at the bar, and you're all dressed up like a million bucks, you got 'distraction' written all over you."

"Not 'trouble'? I'm almost hurt."

"You perform here, don't you?" When you nodded, he continued: "You can't afford to be trouble, but you do work well as a distraction. Pretty showgirls in the spotlight with all those... extravagant costumes, softens the blow if you lose big."

You leaned against the bar to face him better, keeping a hand over his bicep, "From what I saw, you weren't even paying attention to the show. And you were far from losing big."

"I saw you up there."

"But you're too serious to be interested?"

William's dark eyes scanned you neutrally, "I wouldn't say that."

"Oh?" Your brow raised. "You've got a funny way of showing it, William, I couldn't tell."

He took a sip of whiskey, "'s that what you want me to do?"

You grinned, "You're supposed to be able to read people well, right? Can't you guess?"

The card player, William, was happy to show you how interested he was once he polished off his drink. Up in the casino hotel room you had residency at, with all the other girls on the same floor. As soon as you shut the door, he crowded you in against the wall with his nose brushing against yours until your impatience made you kiss him first.

You liked seeing that same focus and intensity he carried while playing being applied into this context. Hands deftly reaching to seek out the zippers, hooks, and buttons that kept your costume fastened onto your frame. Only William's intention was to unfasten each of them one by one, to get your unadorned form revealed to him like a hand of cards.

His dark eyes burned with a wild light, strands of his hair falling from its slicked-back style - little pieces of his stoic facade chipping away. When you traced a manicured fingertip along his tattoos, he hummed low and let his own hands smooth up to grasp at your sides. William walked you back to your bed, freeing his belt after he dropped you down onto your bed with a bounce.

"This what you wanted from me? Why you came up to me at the bar?" He growled, dropping the leather to the floor.

You pressed the front of your high heel to the zipper of his trousers, "You know the answer to that, William, you should stop asking questions and get these off."

He listened to your order without asking any more questions, climbing up over you and hauling you up to get your head to rest on the pillows. The side of your neck received the first of his kisses, burning into your skin in a downward trail. Over your sternum, the split of your ribcage, the softness of your navel. Then, a strategic pause with his parted lips breathing warm air down over your pubic bone.

"Put your legs up on my shoulders, baby." He directed you, his hands holding at your hips. "Or you want me to pull them up for you?"

Your eyes remained on his at the challenge, considering what you'd prefer: squeezing your thighs around him so you had the leverage to shove your pussy right up to his mouth, or have William manhandle you into place. He gave you a second to decide.

The baron was a strange man in general. His household was unusual as well, given that you were the only member of staff in the entire tower. You'd been told that the men who restored the rooms cleaned out the worst of the mess prior to your arrival, but the baron had yet to seek out any additional house staff as he remained locked away in his laboratory.

Certain areas of the estate were forbidden to you and you did your best to stay out of them, as well as out of Victor's way. He wasn't rude to you, nor did he ever criticize your work. He paid you handsomely and kept you in the servant's quarters all to yourself. He gave you no trouble if you needed to travel or if you felt unwell. In fact, his education enabled him in healing whatever condition ailed you.

Activity seemed to only happen up at the very top two floors where specially-made equipment had been installed for some kind of medical experiment. You knew nothing of its purpose or means, too busy with your own tasks of managing the entire home yourself. Then again, there typically weren't concerning sounds of aggravation and heavy things clattering to the walls or floor that you could hear now.

It sounded like the baron's voice. A loud cry and grunting through tightly-grit teeth. Something heavy colliding with the structure of the tower. You jolted in bed with a start at the first sound, sitting up with wide eyes and expecting something more to confirm that you hadn't been dreaming. A crash followed, something like glass falling to the floor.

You rushed out of bed, draping yourself in a loose dressing gown and swiftly rushing up the staircase. The floor overhead was vacant, but you could hear a nearer sound from above; Victor was on the top floor. Gathering a deep breath, you raced up the next set of stairs and winced at the noise of Victor shouting something unintelligible. There, you finally caught a glance at him.

Hair unruly in its dark curls hanging around his weary face and brushing along his shoulders. The loose fabric of his blouse almost slipping off one of his shoulders from deep concentration of his task at hand. Red leather gloves covering his hands and a scalpel clutched in one of them. Dismembered parts of a corpse lay scattered across the rain-slicked floor among various medical instruments and shards of broken glass. Your stomach twisted in revilement.

"Baron?! What's happened?" Your breathless voice gasped.

His eyes flickered up to your face as his whole body heaved for breath, rigid frustration holding up his spine, "You should not be here."

The growl of his voice chilled you down to the very bone. If the scene were not gruesome enough, that sound made you wish you could vanish from the baron's sight. A deadly fire burned in his dark eyes as he gradually straightened his posture, stepping measuredly across the cleared sections of the floor. Your heart battered against your sternum as he approached.

His hands reached to clutch at your upper arms tightly, "You knew you were not permitted up here. I am lenient with you, knowing you are alone in tending to this estate. What possessed you to disobey my singular order for where you can and cannot go?"

You held his gaze, frightened yet resolved enough not to glance away, "I- I was concerned for your safety, sir. I heard a shout, something falling... I disregarded your order for the sake of ensuring your wellbeing."

His grip lessened slightly as his eyes scanned you, "Do not trouble yourself, understood? You- You cannot enter this space."

"Sir, if I may speak freely, I have already seen what lies in this top floor and, thus, nothing more remains a surprise to me. I have no one to tell and nothing to report."

The baron stepped back a hair and set the scalpel down on a sturdy wood table top.

"I... suppose you are correct, in a sense." He began slowly, considering your words then meeting your gaze again, "This is still no place for you. It is gruesome and the domain of my experimentation, not part of the household."

"You remain here often, sir, may I not check upon your condition from time to time? Bring your meals up? Assist you in any way?"

"You do enough for me," the baron reaffirmed, "there is no need."

You nodded in understanding, "Yes, sir. Wha- May I inquire as to what troubles you?"

Your employer seemed surprised at your question and the genuine concern across your features. He tucked his hands behind his back and sighed, his posture sinking slightly. The baron leaned up against one of the tall cylindrical structures, curling over his stomach and resting his gloved hands along his mid-thigh. Frustratedly, he tugged the gloves off his fingers and flung them to the wetted floor.

"I have been working on a project for an extended period of time... though, the idea was sparked in my youth and I have been obsessed with it since. The process of executing the idea has exhausted me and yet... I must pursue the endeavor further. If only I could find the one key... the one answer that would unlock the problem I've encountered."

Silence filled the darkened lab. The baron remained pensive. You took in a breath as you searched for the right words to respond to his vulnerability. This was outside the norm and an extremely delicate situation - should you address his worries poorly, you would be shut out more than before. Perhaps you shouldn't want to have such closeness with your employer - it would be too improper - but still you desired it.

Closeness. A casual manner of interaction with another person. Someone you didn't have to uphold all social standards with. Simply stated, a friend. This position as the sole staff member at the baron's estate was as isolated as the tower's location, leaving you entirely alone and separated from any other people who you could've interacted with. Your employer was the only person nearby across hours of carriage-riding, you didn't even go out for supplies since the baron had them all delivered.

As you sighed out, words flowed from your lips cautiously: "I am not versed in the sciences as you are, sir, but I am prepared to... stand beside you in any way. There are visitors here at times but besides then, only you and I remain here. I am not ideal company or assistance for your work, but a willing substitute if ever you deem it necessary."

His eyes observed you keenly, not the way that they did in passing when you brought him a tray of milk or tidied his library of medical textbooks while he was seated amongst the mess of books. As if he was seeing you as a tangible human being and not a hovering phantom he addressed from time to time. You stood with hands folded over your apron but not as a timid mouse, you held your position.

"I am grateful to have a willing mind and body for the progression of my experiments, though I appreciate your available ear much more. I cannot ask you to deal with the corpses I drag into my home, nor to clean away the blood they leave behind, nor to help me stitch skin and muscle together. The weight upon my shoulders feels... a bit lighter from speaking freely with you."

"I am glad to hear it, sir."

He held his hand up to wave something away, "No, please. Victor is the name my father gave me and I would prefer you call me by name."

"In privacy, certainly. When your brother or helpers arrive, I will still address you properly."

He nodded, "That would be suitable."

Relief had been trickling through your veins since he initially responded to your approach, fully sedating your nerves by the pause in the conversation. The baron - Victor - measuredly paced across the dirtied tile floor with his arms tucked behind his back. He looked at his dissection table and sighed, brushing back his unruly curls. With a shake of his head and a dry huffed laugh, Victor turned to you again.

"What do you make of all this? On a general basis?"

You spoke boldly without fear: "I believe you would benefit from rest, Victor. Even your brilliant mind may tire from the constant demands you make of it."

He tilted his head, "Perhaps I have exhausted myself in this pursuit, at least for the night. Would you please bring some warmed milk to my chambers?"

"Of course. Victor."

A hint of a smile passed over his shadowed face before you keened your head and stepped out of the laboratory. Climbing down the staircase to the kitchen, you fixed exactly what he ordered exactly as he liked it. Tray in hand, you clambered back to the middle floor and delivered it to him. Your pulse raised in anticipation, surprisingly delighted at this turn of events. Before you had a chance to knock at the door of Victor's chambers, he opened them himself at the sound of your footsteps approaching.

"Thank you, please, step inside." He gestured with his head, taking the tray from your hands.

You obeyed his direction, finding yourself at a loss in the middle of the open space between the doorway and his bed. This room was familiar to you, no doubt, but never in this way. Never while your employer was there, beckoning you inside for more than just a brief delivery of breakfast or a nightcap.

Victor did not seem to experience the same sentiment as he walked in behind you, taking a seat at an armchair and gesturing that you occupy the matching chair before him. He had set the tray on the low, carved wooden table set before your two seats. Laying back at ease, he took a sip from the dainty cup and glanced across at you.

"I am sorry that I have not... recognized your situation here. What a blindly selfish fool I've been." He began.

Normally, you would be cued here to contradict his negative words and reassure your employer that you were just dandy at his service. Now, you ventured to be a bit bolder.

"You were raised a certain way and you have been very occupied with your work, though I'm grateful that now you've noticed your ways and reflected upon them."

His eyes studied you for a moment longer, "Indeed... tell me, what are your prospects for the time after you serve me? My... household?"

You blinked and smoothed a hand over your skirt, "I haven't really thought of it, Victor. You are in good health, have no family yet of your own, and you haven't hired anyone else who could possibly replace me. I have no reason to suspect that I would need to find work elsewhere."

"Do you have relatives to tend to?"

"Not really."

"Friends who may call upon you?"

"I did when I lived in the city, but I'm afraid I haven't been able to send correspondence to anyone from here. It is rare that letters are delivered or sent out from here."

"Hmm... true," he paused for a moment then added: "suitors? Perhaps a fiancé? Pining after you since your arrival here?"

You couldn't help a laugh, "You're prying, Victor."

"You're avoiding answering me. Are we feeling embarrassed to admit to something?" He teased.

"No, it's just a ridiculous notion." You insisted between laughs, "I am alone in a faraway place with my master who lives in solitude. What fiancé would allow such an arrangement?"

His brows furrowed as a confused smile quirked his lips, "Surely, for a generous salary it would be permitted. I am an honorable man despite my professional controversies."

"Many men do not care, they judge as they please and assume the worst. Women are as... cows or some precious item, something with certain value that belongs to someone and can be tarnished by others."

"Preposterous. Have you seen my brother's wife? Does she seem as his property?"

"No, but she is of an elite family and of strong will. I must be bought and sold so that I may earn a living."

Victor frowned, "Though this may not offer much consolation, I do not see you in such a manner. Perhaps as a shadow in my home, initially, but I never wished to direct or command you to such an extreme."

"I know, you have treated me better than other employers I've had." You answered vaguely, taking on a stony look so that he knew not to ask for details. "This is evidence, that you sit here and speak with me as an equal."

A wry smile briefly appeared on his face, "I presume you have taken a risk in accepting work here? Alone with me as your employer? Not professionally as a means to earn a living, but in the sense that... others would perceive you negatively?"

"Yes. Especially given that I am not an old widow."

He blinked amidst his observation of you, clever dark eyes telling you that he understood what you were insinuating, "Is there any method that may remedy this... mark against your honor? Anything I may do to assure anyone in the future away from any suspicions?"

"No, your attentions would only serve as confirmation of any suspicions. Why else would you take such interest in a staff member?"

He sighed and shifted his posture, thinking over the matter with another sip of warm milk, "Well, I regret being ignorant of the position you find yourself in because you are in my service. I haven't any intent of letting you go, even prior to this conversation. You have been the pinnacle of professionalism despite being overburdened."

You let out a sniffed laugh, "Even after I disobeyed your order to never enter the laboratory?"

"Indeed. You did what was right, I overreacted."

"I don't believe it... the brilliant Baron Frankenstein has admitted wrongdoing." You quipped, feigning shock.

He polished off the rest of the milk in his cup with narrowed eyes, "Now you are, perhaps, becoming too bold."

The emptied cup in his hand was set upon the tray. You reached to take it out of impulse, to clear it away from your employer's space now that he was finished with its contents. Victor, however, reached for your wrist to pause you. The feel of his warm skin atop your hand sent a current through your veins that made your cheeks burn with a flush.

Ever the scientist, you knew Victor had noticed your change in countenance. He pushed further: swooping his hand around yours to capture it from below and hold at your fingers delicately as he brought the back of your hand to his lips. Dark eyes observing you through every second of the gesture. Your head felt light.

"You have no reason to rush back into your duties. We have an understanding." He murmured against your knuckles.

Your heart beat erratically, "You aren't thinking clearly, Victor, you are exhausted. Please..."

"Please what?" He raised his head, his hand barely holding onto yours so that you could withdraw it easily. "A moment ago, you indulged my conversation without fearing for my state. What's changed?"

"You shouldn't... this isn't appropriate, sir." You responded shakily, your arm still extended out across the space between you.

"Hardly anything is. I care not for convention nor judgement, I care only to hear what you allow me."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then you will be left in peace, things will be as before."

"And if you're giving me a truthful answer...?"

He chuckled, "Well, I suppose I would try another time or two but I swear to you, on my mother's memory, that I would never cross your wishes."

You could hear the candor in his voice. It was easy to filter out, having heard him speak to so many others in such a grandiose tone to overstate his message. He wasn't speaking poetically or in exaggeration - Victor meant what he had sworn to.

It could've been the sudden proximity that was to blame. Or that you shamefully found your own employer to be a handsome man, as non-conforming as he was. Or perhaps the isolation; the lack of human touch, company, friendly chatter. Or something else, something wicked within yourself. Regardless of the reason or how it came to be, you found yourself swept up by the baron.

First, in a proper kiss, one that felt as though it'd bruised your lips. In the aftermath, you felt your head swim in a whirlpool of sensations. No cognizant thoughts. While you recovered, your hand was tugged across and led you to the next sweeping away: another kiss that functioned as a distraction from his hands pushing your shoulders so that you landed atop his plush bed.

The sight of him crawling towards you, tearing layers of his garments away, was enough to make you think of rebuking any morals you'd lived by just so you could fully savor and wallow in this sin. Your body tracked every single little brush of his hands or warm fan of breath he made against it. Each one elevating your sensitivity and the fire burning deep in the pit of your stomach.

He broke the spell of the wordless rush with a single question: "May I see you?"

Victor's voice came at your ear, his hands balling the hem of your uniform dress. You knew what he meant and reached to help him unfasten all its components rather than providing him with an answer.

"Have you done this before?" You asked instead.

He hummed, "A long while ago. I hope you will forgive me any blunders due to my lack of practice."

The plain material was pulled over your head and cast off to the side. Victor's hands warmed your bare sides, waiting for you to answer.

"Were you married before?"

"No. Focused on my studies and repulsed by the idea of catching a disease."

You turned around in a kneeled shuffle over his sheets and looked into his eyes, "How do you know I have none?"

His smile formed lopsidedly, "Because, as you said, it is difficult to get mail here and it is quite desolate. Should you have needed treatment for such an illness, I would have known by now."

Opening your mouth to volley another playful counter to him, you found your voice gone from surprise. He pushed you lightly once more, down from your knees so that your back landed flatly over his sheets. Your head lay upon his pillow as his eyes drank in every little detail of your bared form. Victor was in a near identical state, left only in his trousers.

"I do not know if this is fortune or torture, because I have had you under my nose for so long. And now I must act indifferent when there are guests present."

"You are a nobleman, I'm sure you can manage." You spoke smoothly, unabashed at your state and his words.

"This exact vision will be permanently fixed into my mind. It would be a miracle that I do not lose track of my thoughts or speech from time to time when the memory decide to remind me of itself." He insisting, using his tone full of bravado just before planting a kiss to your lips that migrated to your neck.

Your fingers tangled through his raven curls, "And if you speak truthfully? Without grandiosity?"

He glanced up, scolding you with a light nip at the neck, "You do not like when I speak to you flatteringly?"

"I like it but only if there is truth to it."

"There is," he assured you, "though my main intent was to test how responsive you were to certain stimuli. Words can be very powerful to some, kind or unkind. As do touches along the sides or the neck."

your clothes are fairly plain, almost peasant-like with their simple beaded embroidery & light colors, but your accessories denote your status

an ornate crown rests over your head & precious, ancient jewelry is clasped around your neck

sweet incense & candle wax thickens the air of the crowded church as you stood just before the altar to your intended's side

the priest & choir sang in their archaic language, binding the two of you together as though weaving a spell over you

a rope circled around you both & was tied in place, further cementing your connection to one another while the holy incantations continued

you walked side by side in a small procession inside the church, drank rich wine from the church's golden goblets, & set rings onto each other's fingers

his eyes never left you once; you had no doubt in the steadfastness of the prince's love for you & that you would be safe & happy at his side

at the conclusion of the solemn ceremony, you were freed from the circle of rope & shared a first kiss before his kingdom

a new moon ensured that the evening sky darkened quickly as the crowd followed you & your prince from the church to the castle

dinner awaited, one with various dishes covering every spare centimeter of the long table & wine flowing as freely as the rivers across the land

your eyes met your new husband's frequently in a charged, glimmering shared gaze, hardly paying any mind to the guests or to the meal

there was singing, dancing, various performances in honor of your union but your mind was occupied - as was your prince's

it was the dead of night, yet people continued to celebrate more for the sake of celebration & cheer than for the wedding itself

the moment it was appropriate, you both fled the scene & he guided you up to the privacy of his chambers at the very top of his castle

more candles & flowers left a heady scent in the air while you walked through the space, observing where you would now find yourself at home

your husband granted you space for a few minutes, then caught your arm & asked to kiss you once more

with a smile, you allowed it & slipped your fingers through the coppery strands of his hair before your lips brushed against his 17

the force of it, physically & emotionally, swept you off your feet while your prince, luckily, held you securely in his arms

words didnt need to be exchanged as you both looked into each other's eager eyes & reached for your own wedding garb, just to discard it to the floor

The phone clattered out of his hands and onto the floor. His jaw dropped, heart raced, breath escaped his lungs, and he was quite sure the room temperature jumped by ten degrees. This had to be a mistake. You could not have meant to send this to him. Steven blinked a few times and slowly gathered himself, the image on his phone stuck in his head.

He picked up his phone cautiously, trying to keep his eyes off the screen so as not to drop it again. Steven averted his gaze and stared only at his keyboard, sending you a text to inform you of the mistake. Promising to delete the message to save you any kind of discomfort.

While the messages sent, took a sip from his water bottle and almost jumped at the sound of his ringtone.

"Yeah?" He answered softly, his hand trembling slightly seeing your contact on the screen.

"Don't you dare delete the picture. I sent it to you on purpose, Steven."

"You... you did?"

Your laugh tickled in his ear, "You're my boyfriend, aren't you?"

"Well, y-yeah."

"What's wrong with me wanting to send my boyfriend a sexy picture? Just to give him a hint of what's waiting for him at home?"

His breath faltered, trying to wrap his head around everything you said. You heard him swallow before answering unsteadily: "Nothing's... wrong with it. I just thought... wait, at home? You aren't at home in the picture."

"Steven, darling, I took that picture in the fitting room. I brought a lot more home for you to see once you're done with work."

That was all it took for him to quickly run and find his manager, blurting some excuse about an emergency then speeding out of the museum halls. He buzzed with impatience through the entire bus ride, his hands fidgeting and leg bouncing. All he could think of was that picture you sent him, permanently ingrained in his mind.

Meanwhile, you were lounging over the bed, sapphire blue lace framing the curves of your body as if made just for you. Jewelry glimmering over your neck and ears to dress it up a bit more. In the picture you sent him, you were in a similar cream-colored set. There were a few more he'd get to see at a later point, just so you could eat up his shocked, bashful reaction another time.

Steven fumbled with his keys to the door, struggling to keep his hands steady. You sat up in anticipation and smiled, holding back laughter at how affected he was by something so simple. Finally, he unlatched the door lock and shove his way instead. He kicked off his shoes and glided across the floor to you, wide eyes unblinking.

"Oh my... you look like an angel," he breathed out, "what did I do to deserve this?"

You ignored his question and asked your own: "What are you doing standing over there for?"

Steven walked forward until his legs hit the foot of the bed, completely under your spell. You beckoned him even closer, grinning as he clambered on his hands and knees over the duvet to get closer to you. Still, he kept just a little distance, as though afraid you'd melt away like a dream if he set a hand on you. Big, brown eyes staring into yours and his lips parted while you leaned in.

Your hand rested along the side of his face, teasing him a little with a brush of your nose against his cheek before pressing the gentlest kiss over his open mouth. Steven nearly whimpered from that alone. But, he finally dared to set his hand along the side of your waist, tilting his head to the side to return your kiss with a much firmer one.

Reaching for his hands, you guided them to riskier places along your body and smiled at his delicate handling of you. Layers of clothes were peeled off Steven by your own hands and you maneuvered him to lay down over the pillows. Your lips brushed across his neck, lowering slowly as you exposed more and more of his skin. His round eyes still stared at you in overwhelming adoration.

Then, you paused after delivering a kiss just over his thrumming heart, "Do you want to see the other ones?"

Steven blinked dazedly, "Other what?"

"Well, you saw the set in the picture and this one but there are three more still in the bag. Should I show you now? Let you pick which you want me to keep on for now?"

His face flushed pink and he pursed his lips before answering, "Darling, you look like a dream in anything but, eh... you wouldn't be keeping any of 'em on for very long."

It was your turn to drop your jaw, laughing playfully, "Stevie! Where'd that come from?"

"You don't like it?"

You leaned down over his chest, grinding back intentionally while you remained straddling his lap. He did his best to try holding back a groan. Finding his ear, you pressed a kiss to his cheekbone and whispered to him.

"Baby, I expect that from Marc but when you do it? I swear, I've never been so turned on in my life."

"Yeah?" He raised his brows hopefully. "I'm glad he got to hear you say that."

"He did?"

"Yeah, and he's telling me I should keep doing it if you like it so much."

You kissed his forehead and ruffled his curls, "And what do you think about it, Steven?"

"I'd do anything to keep you happy." He smiled sincerely, then flushed again. "And I think I want you to, to come up here and sit on my face."

⊰ aftercare ⊱

im gonna make all this about a committed relationship with him so.... yes the aftercare is there, he is a very caring man. sometimes jonathan might be a little disjunct since he has things he impulsively does after, but he'll always take care of you

⊰ body part ⊱

he isnt the most confident in himself that way, he feels more secure about his non-physical attributes but he knows that he's... not bad, according to other people.

for you, I think you can tell he's into just about everything about you but Jonathan practically ALWAYS reaches for your thighs when things transition to physical intimacy

⊰ cum ⊱

haha inside. this man is happy to have more kids, he knows hes a good dad, & he'd happily take care of all their needs. or yk use protection if youre concerned.

⊰ dirty secret ⊱

bc im pretending e5 doesn't exist, his dirty secret is actually more just guilty pleasure. he thinks about some dirty shit but doesnt think he'll ever tell you about what runs through his head. sometimes Jonathan feels a bit of shame for those fantasies & for trying more kinky stuff, its not a fun dirty secret :/

⊰ zzz ⊱

⊰ experience ⊱

again, e5 doesnt exist for me, jonathan talks about that & he really only has mira as his experience which... not really thorough, also fairly toxic

⊰ favorite position ⊱

he's willing to try quite a few but he looooooooves having you on top

⊰ goofy ⊱

maybe lighthearted if you've both had some good news or that happens to be the vibe beforehand, but goofy isnt his style

⊰ hair ⊱

I dont need to answer this. all I'll add is that it gets wilder if he's been busy with kid stuff or work stuff & cant even let out a sigh, much less groom himself down there

⊰ intimacy ⊱

Jonathan getting into another relationship is a big thing for him, so it all is very intimate for him & you dont just feel him physically close to you, you can feel every part of him reaching out for you. his breath is all over your skin, his beard or hair is tickling you, his hands are gentle but rush to feel all over you

⊰ jerk off ⊱

not his thing, unless you've been gone for a while (looking at you mira) & he just needs some relief

⊰ kink ⊱

well breeding kink is the biggest one he feels comfortable claiming, other ones either feel like secrets to him or he just doesnt know what he's into... but through trial, you observe that he loves praise, dirty talk, lingerie, being guided by you, trying to take the reins from you, overstimulation, & has a spouse/wife kink

⊰ location ⊱

at home or in a hotel room or some other private enclosed space - which does not including his office at work

⊰ motivation ⊱

feeling a high wave of emotional intimacy or appreciation for you makes him feel okay with getting carried away

⊰ no ⊱

some of you might not like this but I dont see him in a relationship with a partner who's much younger, naive, &/or inexperienced. mostly the inexperienced part.

hes a grown man, a divorced dad who speaks like everything is about to be a Ted talk. he's a little too mature for that, & prefers someone toe-to-toe with him. also Jonathan himself isnt the most experienced so... maybe someone who could help him with that.

⊰ oral ⊱

oh Jonathan puts in the WORK he is such a giver, dont ever doubt that he is anything but happy to be down between your thighs

⊰ pace ⊱

generally pretty slow, he wants to feel everything & wants you to feel everything

⊰ quickie ⊱

not really his thing, I mean maybe a giggly quickie in another room while you two have a few minutes reprieve from work, kids, & everything

⊰ risk ⊱

....not likely, sorry, Jonathan has some religious trauma around sex & it took time for him to get comfortable with the most boring vanilla shit

⊰ stamina ⊱

well.... not great but he's happy to keep you warmed up with his mouth or fingers while his body gets back into it

⊰ toys ⊱

ohhhhh you have to initiate this aspect of things, show him what kinds of things you actually have or surprise him with a gift & let him experiment

⊰ unfair ⊱

hmmm maybe just a little, I think Jonathan would try to he a tease but fails bc he doesnt want to keep you waiting

⊰ volume ⊱

I mean we know he's quiet, but i think with enough time & if he feels comfortable/safe with his partner he'll be much more talkative

⊰ wild card ⊱

I think the wildest thing about him isn't a specific kink or something you can point out, its his openness to try new things & be very sincere about how it is

⊰ x ray ⊱

I dont have to answer this, yall were watching

⊰ yearning ⊱

jonathan does yearn!!! he yearns a lot!!! he's a passionate humanities professor!!! you just might not see it all the time since he's used to holding back or just gets busy

Lace-trimmed gowns, fur-lined capes, and wool suits blurred in your vision as Maria led you through the mirrored ballroom. Her usual excitement seemed even brighter, pulling you by the hand while grinning broadly and laughing from her belly. Delectable hot chocolate was the excuse for visiting this hotel in particular, only later Maria seemed to coincidentally remember that her gentleman-friend was staying at the very same hotel - an introduction was in order.

Maria's energy was contagious, leaving a permanent smile on your lips and lending you a more carefree attitude towards meeting strangers, wandering about the city all day, and celebrating the anniversary of the country's revolution that didn't necessarily have a great personal meaning to you. You'd dressed as quickly as you could in an ensemble of white and vivid red - a small homage to the country's flag. The red fabric and jewelry felt bold for an unmarried woman, yet you wore them with a possibly brash sense of pride.

"Oh! I see him, he's absolutely going to love you." Maria assured you with a quick glance over her shoulder.

"Don't interrupt if he's already speaking with someone." You pleaded.

Maria snorted, "He's been waiting for us to arrive, he isn't paying a drop of attention to anything else."

An exaggeration, you were sure. At least, until you stood face to face with the mysterious man. He was silent, but his eyes spoke for him. Deep blue, shining with a building glaze of sentiment, and unblinking as they admired your face. The rest of the room almost seemed to fade away as you stood across from him. Your heart seemed to stop, though you couldn't possibly explain why.

Clearing your throat, you tried to cover your impolite staring with an introduction: "It is a pleasure to meet you, sir. Are you specially visiting for the celebration?"

He remained still, lost in all the thoughts you could see behind his eyes. Your brows moved in concern, trying to read more from his expression. That was when Maria intervened.

"I know my friend is very beautiful, but you haven't introduced yourself, Your Highness." She snickered, prompting him to speak.

"Yes. Forgive me. I... I have lost my mind and manners." He began, his accent and low voice going straight to your heart. "Vlad the Second, Prince of Wallachia, Count Dracula."

"You possess a great deal of titles, Your Grace." You smiled as he charmingly brought your hand to his lips.

"And you? A princess, I presume?"

"No," you laughed, "nothing of the sort, sir."

"Vlad." He corrected you, pressing his lips again to the back of your gloved hand.

Something of his touch... his lips over your knuckles, the intensity of his gaze, made the rest of the ballroom disappear once again. If the novels you'd read were accurate at all, this had to be a sign of true love. Or perhaps just infatuation, as your practical, adult mind told you. Still, you let yourself wonder what this feeling was, where it was originating from.

As your mind wandered, a memory... or a dream came to you. Like you were trying to place him and his familiarity. Candlelight, an old castle, kisses starting at your hand and trailing higher up your arm...

Then you shook away the vision. Just a foolish flash of your imagination. You forced a polite smile of nonchalance and nodded at whatever he'd said. His name. Correcting you. The way you addressed him. Allowing you to stand as his equal. Your heart was racing.

Swallowing and trying to find a moment to breathe, you faced Maria again, "I believe you mentioned hot chocolate?"

"Yes! But first, let me show you to the jardin! There are games, and shows, and curiosities, and-"

You couldn't hear the rest of her eager words as she pulled you out of the crowded space, your mind solely on the handsome nobleman you'd just met. What he provoked in you, what you couldn't control or suppress. Prince Vlad.

As Maria walked you out of the doors to the Louvre's manicured gardens where all the festivities were going on, you felt your heart jump. Not from performers or entertainment, from a premonition. You glanced around, turning your head back and seeing him, Vlad, following you both at a polite distance. A small smile bloomed across your lips as you looked to Maria again.

He remained near you both for the evening, not intervening unless asked to contribute and placing himself in a position solely to watch over. When Maria brought you to a game to shoot, he kindly corrected your form upon your announcement of being intimidated by the weapon in your hands. Vlad remained at your side, his face tucked beside your neck to show you where to target and directing you up to the point of pulling the trigger.

The noise brought another memory, or fantasy, or dream to you. A man pressed to your side and kissing at your neck, setting his hands just where Vlad's were then. But the gun was aimed at a pillow, decorated with gold thread. Again, the vision disappeared as soon as it had come.

"A bullseye!" Maria squealed, "You are a natural, my dear."

You grinned and turned to Vlad, "Only thanks to my instructor."

He bowed his head politely, but said nothing further.

You found yourself leaning into him again when standing in an exposition of a real, live mermaid. She'd glided up to the surface of the water and gazed at the audience dripping with the water of her aquarium. Then, she let out a shrill screech.

When you jumped, you jumped into his side. His arm shielded you. All of it felt inexplicably natural. Instinctual. It should've alarmed you to be so comfortable with the prince and embarrassed despite him being so gracious in assisting you. Again, you wished to believe it was all love at first sight, fascination, something with a name.

Maria brought you to another stand, to toss sacks at pins. Then to see human curiosities on display. A man seeming to consume the fire from a burning stake. A woman with a beard. Another performer lifting heavier and heavier still weights up over his head with ease. Vlad remained a chivalrous pace away from you both but followed along, seemingly to ensure your safety.

As the sky grew dark, Maria decided it was the perfect time to take you through the haunted house. Everything was dark inside, barely any light showing you the spooking decorations inside. Cobwebs strung across the corners of the labyrinth, loud noises playing from a gramophone hidden from view, electric lights flashing like lightning. Maria had run ahead, calling you along to follow as you felt your way through the dark. Then, you could no longer see or hear her.

There must've been a turn somewhere up ahead, somewhere she had turned into and happened to be out of your sight. You walked cautiously, calling out Maria's name between nervous laughs. A pale skeleton jumped out at you from out of nowhere. You couldn't help the scream that burst from your throat. Your steps stumbled backward, until you ran into something and screamed again.

"Shh, it is just me. You are safe." The prince's steady voice reassured you.

Gradually, your breaths slowed as you faced him, thanking him in a whisper for catching you. Vlad kept an arm around your back in support, holding you steady but not so tightly that anyone would consider it improper. You caught your breaths and took a step forward, signaling that you were ready to continue.

The prince offered his hand, "This way."

You happily took it, trusting him to keep you feeling much more secure regardless of what other horror-decorations jumped out at you. Vlad even managed to warn you just before something moved in front of you, somehow knowing when something was about to happen.

Only at the end of the haunted house did you spot Maria again, catching her breath and greeting you eagerly. Vlad, again, decided to remain at a distance behind you two.

In the center of the gardens was an open space, live music playing to provide accompaniment to the dancing couples over the grass. Maria stood just outside the space alongside many other nicely-dressed guests. You stood with her, until Vlad stood before you with his hand offered to you. Not a single inkling of a thought to refuse entered your mind; you took his hand and set your other one over his shoulder, allowing the prince to guide you into an easy rhythm.

Again, visions flashed in your mind like vivid memories. Being in a linen nightgown and dancing in a bed chamber, daylight streaming in through stained glass windows. A man standing against your backside and holding your middle with one arm, the other reaching to curl his warm hand over your throat. The touch of a burning kiss stamped at your sternum.

Your breath caught and you stumbled in your steps again, held over your feet by Vlad. The music came to an opportune pause as you found stability. Vlad bowed as the rest of the men-partners did and you stepped away to find air.

He and Maria shadowed you, your friend pulling your arm over her shoulders and asking if you were alright. The prince, meanwhile, apologized for directing you too vigorously if his guiding of the dance had been the cause of your affected state.

"No, it is not your fault. I just... became lost in thought, I couldn't help myself. Forgive me if I stepped on your foot or made you worry."

"You are forgiven." Vlad replied with a quite serious tone. "Would you like to rest? My suite is not far and you can still have a good view of the night's performance."

"Yes! Then we can order the hotel's hot chocolate directly to the room!" Maria chimed in.

"That may be wise." You accepted breathlessly, allowing him to chivalrously walk you up to his suite while Maria remained dotingly at your other side.

Granted, it was not so wise for an unmarried woman to walk directly into the suite of a titled, wealthy man you'd only just met. However, he had been nothing but kind and mindful of you throughout the evening. He asked to set a hand upon yours to guide your aim, and kept his hands exactly where they were supposed to be during your dance. When you looked at him, you felt only safety.

Your own mind was the only thing that troubled you, the flame-like flickers of visions that seemed to be brought on by your meeting the prince. Vivid scenes of intimacy, warmth, elation, lips wandering across your skin, and your own hands... your hands grasping at a man's frame - his, you sensed. It made your face burn, though not in shame, in desire. One you wouldn't be bold enough to confess to.

Maria helped you sit over a chaise, promising to finally bring you the hot chocolate she'd mentioned since the start of the evening. You hardly cared for it anymore but savored the opportunity to rest after all your walking around the gardens. She left you alone in the room, beside the open doors of the balcony letting in the cool night air.

You shut your eyes, breathing in the chill and feeling your composure come back to you. Just as quickly, you felt it dissolve again at the sound of the prince's steady, even steps approach. You sat up and opened your eyes to see him.

His hat, coat, and walking stick had been stowed away while you languished. Vlad stood a few paces away from the foot of the chaise, his gaze solely fixed upon your face with the same deep admiration in his expressive eyes. You didn't have the heart to remind him it was rude to stare, especially when you were doing just the same.

"Thank you for accepting my invitation tonight."

You smiled and gave an acknowledging nod.

"I have something I'd like to show you." He announced softly. "I wonder if you recall seeing it anywhere before."

Your brows raised in interest, "Please do."

Vlad stepped across to the adjacent room, and you found yourself rising back up onto your feet to follow after. His hands reached for something set atop the dresser, wrapped in a fine handkerchief, and displayed the hidden item in his palm. The unoccupied hand reached to pull away the handkerchief and your eyes saw a silver box. A music box, as he explained, likely one of the first in the world.

The prince reached to twist the cog in the back, "I gave this to my wife when I returned from my travels."

"You're married?" You interrupted, unable to help the question.

He paused, "Widowed. I am sorry if I have caused you discomfort, but you remind me so much of her... it may be foolish of me, but I hoped you might... react to it, to the melody."

Your heart still could not stand to stop him, to tell him that it was impossible, that you would've remembered a man like him.

A small bit of hope had risen within you when the prince confessed his own hopes to you. The visions you'd experienced were mere fantasies, you convinced yourself. And yet, what if they really were memories? What if everything you were feeling was somehow tied into this previous existence with him?

It was impossible, your own reasoning insisted. Yet, your heart yearned to seek out another explanation. God was capable of miracles, of things that were beyond human understanding, and perhaps the man standing before you was deemed deserving of such a blessing.

The lid of the box opened and the prince continued his sentimental storytelling: "When my wife wanted me, she would use this gift. Its melody would echo through the castle walls and I would run to her the moment I heard it. Now, I play it for you."

His finger deftly extended a piece of the mechanism to let the slow, haunting song begin.

Barely a pace remained between you, heads bowed over the music box as its melody wrapped around your mind, enchanting you back into your imagination. Delicate feathers floating through the candlelit air of the bedchamber. Your laughter and another's weaving together. Horseback riding across a snow-blanketed field side by side. Warm breaths fanning between lips in the refreshing, winter air.

You searched for a face, for whether it was really Vlad you could see in your mind's eye. The music brought tears down your cheeks, your heart sore and swelling. It made your breathing heavy and audible as you tried to let yourself sink into the melody and what it was causing within you.

"I... feel as though I'm reaching for something, but I cannot see it fully," you confessed in a whisper.

"Keep searching."

With your eyes shut lightly, you let his voice reverberate through your mind and accompany the echoes of the music there. Again, you found yourself elsewhere.

A hearth fire with a dragon carved into the stone behind its flames. Your cheek pressed against rough, silver armor. Hands holding still your bared hips while you heard panting in your ear. Being spun around a throne room with a heavy crown atop your head and those same, sturdy arms around your lower half to hoist you into the air carefree.

"I can see a fire, silver scales... a dragon," you spoke thoughtlessly.

The prince's breath caught and you felt his unoccupied hand come to your cheek, "The last time I saw my wife was in my armor. I held her as blood drained from her veins. The last thing she said to me was before battle. She told me to take care of myself- "

"My prince, my king," you continued, the words coming to your lips before you could think, "my life, because I... cannot survive without you."

Your eyes stared up into his, your breaths paused, and your heart beating wildly. After centuries, he remembered your words to him.

Precisely as you'd spoken them, not knowing that they'd be your last to him. And you... you knew them as your own, you knew him to be your own. Not just a charming stranger who captured your affections upon first sight, but your prince from all that time ago and cursed to wait for your return. Your prince who had not ceased his search for your soul since the day it left the mortal world.

Fireworks began to burst from outside the windows, giving you a start that made you lean into Vlad once again for support. He happily caught you, only now his arms circled around you entirely. His lips pressed to the crown of your head as tears fell upon your styled hair.

You brought your head up and kissed him deeply, your mind whirling as it remembered everything in a haze; your husband's devotion at the forefront of it. The very same depth of adoration that you felt within yourself, both of you sinking further and further into it as you saw your desires and sentiments mirrored in one another.

Tears mingled between your cheeks as you remained intertwined, cheering and bursting outside fading far from your awareness. Your hands clutched tightly to him, unable to believe your prince was back in your arms. All of that time spent in the ether and being so ignorant of what awaited you, what your soul had been aching for impossibly out of your husband's reach.

And Vlad, suffering from the slowly dying faith that you'd ever return to him. Burning with insurmountable pain and hope upon finally saw you standing before him, wondering if you'd recognize your husband in your new form. Trying to spark your memory in any manner he could until this very moment when everything fell together. His hands trembling as they reached around you, disbelieving that he could finally feel you, tangibly, against himself.

Pulling away, you looked up into his face, admiring the familiar features and brushing tear-slicked strands of hair from his cheeks. Your own eyes were glazed over and mirroring your vision through the ever-building and ever-spilling tears. The delicate touch of his ringed fingers tracing the side of your face made your eyes squeeze shut, tracts of saltwater running down your skin.

"My beloved," he whispered, wrought with the feeling pouring out of his heart.

You leaned into his hand, pressing a kiss to his fingertips, "I'm sorry I didn't recognize you before, my prince."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I am sorry for not finding you sooner, for not having saved your life centuries ago."

You shook your head vigorously, caressing the side of his face, "Don't blame yourself, my prince. We were separated before and we are now reunited, that is all that matters, is it not?"

A smile came over his pale lips and he pulled you into his chest by the hand he cupped at the back of your head. Grateful kisses were planted along its crown, though still too restrained for your liking. The strings of his trousers found their way between your fingers, easily coming apart with a few simple tugs. Vlad seemed to choke at your boldness, catching your wrists and leaning down to kiss your lips again instead.

You ignored his direction, your hands roaming anywhere they pleased to grasp at more and more of him. Nothing could suppress your desire or limit your measures of taking it as you pleased; even your own husband couldn't find the resolve to refuse you. He let go of your hands and reciprocated your actions instead, working your gown off your shoulders so it fell to the floor in a puddle.

It became a familiar dance, one whose movements you remembered as you executed them. Vlad lifting you up in his arms. Your breaths warming his cool face and fingertips running across his freckled arms. Saliva slicking over bared skin following the touch of lips and tongue. A gasp stolen from your lungs. The responding low grunt from the base od his throat. Eyes taking in the scene and refusing to close for longer than a momentary blink.

"Take me," you breathed against his lips, "body and blood. Bind us together for eternity."

Your husband lifted his head from between your parted thighs, "We have been bound, my beloved, across life and death."

"You misunderstand, my love. Give me your curse. Please. If you cannot die, then let me be deathless beside you."

His tongue traced a vein just beneath your skin, "No... it is not a life for you. I would condemn you to sustain yourself on fresh blood, to never stand in the full light of the day, to be isolated from anyone and anything else... it is too great a sacrifice."

The refusal, considerate as it was, made your heart hurt and your stomach sink. Fire burned in your veins at the mere hint of ever parting from him again. To undergo the torment of separation between your souls and to leave him yearning for centuries again. No. This is the only thing you would refuse your husband.

You reached to touch him and keep his gaze on your desperate expression, "To be with you, my prince, anything is a worthy sacrifice. I beg you, let me share your curse. Let me share it or I will force your hand, o-or think that you do not truly love me."

Vlad went still, sharp nails just barely digging into your flesh, eyes gravely wide, "You cannot question my love for you. I am only trying to save you from my devilish existence, for you are of the heavens, but you know I cannot refuse you."

Relief eased your tension away as quickly as it had come, though your expression only reflected appreciation. Your legs circled around him to rest on his back, pulling him in closer. His elongated, sharp teeth peeked out from under his parted lips as his tongue drew a line along the inside of your thigh. Hands gliding along your skin devotedly and eyes never glancing away from yours.

"Where do you want it?" The prince asked in a low tone, mouth muffled against the skin of your leg. "The bite, my beloved. It scars forever."

A wicked grin formed over your lips, "Right where you are, so only you see it."

Your smile was mirrored on his own features as he tilted his head sideways, lining up his fangs with the curve of your form. Vlad gradually leaned down lower and lower, breath teasing gooseflesh up across your thigh. He was gentle first, sinking the sharp points into the surface of your skin slowly and smoothly. Blood flowed freely from you as a burning pain spread across the muscle, though you forced yourself still so that your husband could finish doing as you had asked.

Now the contact from his tongue was broad, drinking in your blood to avoid any loss of the rich liquid. As you felt your head spin faintly and let out a weak whimper, Vlad tried to distract you and reached a free hand to the pearl of nerves just below his bite. It distracted you, mixing with the sensation of pain and easing it as the pleasure overpowered any other feeling. Your husband pulled his mouth away, clearing some of the flow with a final lap of his tongue and stopping the wound from draining you entirely.

"Your fangs will form soon, my beloved. I advise you to rest now." He spoke soothingly, guiding your legs down into a more comfortable position. "I will watch over you and clean the blood away. Is there anything you wish to have before you sleep?"

"You, beside me, my prince," you reached a hand to his, "I feel hungry, not tired. I desire to have you again, I feel my strength returning to me."

he's a pretty talented knight, he just tends to be a little bit riskier than the others but can inspire his fellow soldiers to follow his direction into anything

you're familiar with santiago, you dont see him every day, but your eyes did always remain fixed on him a little longer than usual during military processions

the younger knights respect & look up to him, enough that they chatter about him & your intrigue brings you to listen in to their conversations

your distant fascination became much more direct after a coincidental meeting between the two of you

walking through the castle to find some quiet away from everyone else, you wandered out through one of the less commonly-used wings

the sound of a sword swinging was the only thing you heard, so you decided to peek at the source of the noise as you passed by... only to see santiago practicing his swordsmanship in just a blouse & loose trousers

your footsteps froze as you caught sight of him & you could not find the discipline to look away

santiago, perceptive & charming as always, notices then points out your moon-eyed state while confessing how flattered he was by your attentions

he's a bold man, he's willing to take his chances seeking you out at any free moment

refuses to call you by name, he only ever calls you "your highness" but in an almost teasing way

makes sure he gets assigned to be your personal guard as much as possible & take the opportunity to either slip into your chambers, lead you somewhere private, or pass you a flush-inducing note

sure, you knew better than to get swept up in sentiment, but you really couldn't resist your lovely knight's advances

besides, you knew he was too widely respected across your kingdom for anyone to oppose his romancing you & that your own stubbornness would get you the match you wanted

the only trouble with having a skilled knight at your side is that his work requires him to be sent away into danger, but you try to use your influence to keep him & his fellow knights as close to home as you can

⊰ aftercare ⊱

pretty lacking unless he really put you through your paces, or if you chide him for not taking better care of you after then maybe he'll step up

⊰ body part ⊱

I think jack is aware his tongue is where his talent is (yapping about Shakespeare!) but on a more physical level... jack likes his build & his face, he's a sociopath probably with narcissistic tendencies so he's not insecure

for you? aww honey dont you worry, looking at you is like looking at the sun - so bright it blinds you. if you hold a knife to his throat & demand an answer (he's into that), jack admits he loves your neck, the swoop of it into your shoulders, the top of your chest, & how it all moves

⊰ cum ⊱

jack doesnt mind a mess, in fact, he LOVES making things gross & dirty so he prefers to cum over your skin, on your face, in your hair, in your underwear, wherever he can get it to smear

⊰ dirty secret ⊱

he doesnt consider his dirty side to be a secret, jack doesnt give a shit what other people think. maybe the most surprising thing about his sexuality is that he's very open to having more than one other person involved

⊰ experience ⊱

uhhhh safe to say its probably been a while bc he lives in a desert & roams around otherwise, he might give a compliment to someone who catches his eye but jack knows better than to try getting up close & personal

⊰ favorite position ⊱

I can see him really enjoying doggy idk... or like prone if he was just pretending to attack you

⊰ goofy ⊱

jack is definitely kooky so I wouldn't be surprised if he was goofy during sex, its more just being all over the place than silly though

⊰ hair ⊱

overgrown mess unless he snuck in some place to get a razor or small trimming scissors

⊰ intimacy ⊱

solid. definitely still all over the place in Jack's way, but very emotionally/mentally intense

⊰ jerk off ⊱

maybe when he's bored & youre not around, he doesn't really feel it as a "need" often

⊰ kink ⊱

soooooo many, including but not limited to: restraints, choking, knife play, roleplay, edging, etc.

⊰ location ⊱

anywhere & everywhere you allow it. even in the sand (ew)

⊰ motivation ⊱

if he's bored, if you even jokingly flirt with him, if you make minor physical contact with him, if you participate in his debates/discussions, etc

⊰ no ⊱

jack does NOT get along well with the super submissive, docile type of sexuality bc he enjoys more of a battle for power against his partner

⊰ oral ⊱

sorry I think he prefers receiving but he doesn't mind going down on you (for hours)

⊰ pace ⊱

he's a master at flipping between a torturous, methodic slow pace & moving like a jack rabbit

⊰ quickie ⊱

I mean....... he won't say no but jack would rather you two take all the time you need than have to rush

⊰ risk ⊱

you heard the man, jack ain't got shit to lose so he really doesn't care what he does if theres some kind of reason or intention for it

⊰ stamina ⊱

jack isnt tired from anything else going on, so he can keep it up for a while. things in the desert know how to survive even in the roughest conditions - he'll do just fine for you

⊰ toys ⊱

if he wasn't a vagrant, jack would probably have a decent number of them... but he currently just has stolen things he can repurpose into makeshift toys & handcuffs swiped from a cop

⊰ unfair ⊱

jack can FOR SURE be unfair & try to torture you, he loves the thrill as well as having that power over you

⊰ volume ⊱

loud, shameless, very vocal, & lovessssss to dirty talk. jack is already quite a yapper so he has the same behavior in a sexual context

⊰ wild card ⊱

like I said, he's okay with a lot of wilder kinks. jack is down to share or be shared, to watch or be watched, etc. his wildest experience involved a sizable group of people by a shitty motel pool just outside the desert.

⊰ x ray ⊱

about average length or shorter, definitely thicker than average thoughhhh

⊰ yearning ⊱

I think jack can be obsessive & intense over you, which is obviously not exactly the same as being a yearner

⊰ zzz ⊱

⊰ aftercare ⊱

you definitely need to teach jake about full aftercare. he gets why its important & did check in with you already, but jake needs some guidance in being softer

⊰ body part ⊱

ASS MAN ASS MAN ASS MAN ASS MAN ASS MAN - for you & for himself, look at that cake

⊰ cum ⊱

inside or all over you, jake likes making a mess & being very overtly possessive of you

⊰ dirty secret ⊱

like I just said, jake is very possessive & very showy about it, BUT what you see is the tip of the iceberg bc what happens in his brain almost gets toxic. but jake controls himself, he knows no one can even breathe near you.

⊰ experience ⊱

quite a bit but its all pretty empty, he sees those experiences as little flings to fill the time & feed the ache but he won't talk to you about any of them - not that he ever cared enough to remember much about them

⊰ favorite position ⊱

prone or held up in his arms, off your feet, while his hands bounce you on his cock <3

⊰ goofy ⊱

no, not intentionally. ever.

⊰ hair ⊱

shaved down but not waxed or bushy

⊰ intimacy ⊱

jake has his own flavor of intimacy, its definitely there but he is not nice & sweet & soft about it

⊰ jerk off ⊱

yes. especially in his cab when he isnt driving. & even more so when you send him a text of any kind.

⊰ location ⊱

⊰ kink ⊱

roleplay, breeding, free use, bondage, & anything that leans more rough

anywhere any time, jake is not worried about people watching or getting scandalized

⊰ motivation ⊱

his eyes never leave you, the sight of you is enough to make him lose it

⊰ no ⊱

he's possessive, very showy about it, & you definitely know about it so dont even think about asking jake to share you or let anyone else to even look at you

⊰ oral ⊱

highly prefers receiving, but he's a fan of going down on you fs

⊰ pace ⊱

jake tends to start off slow but very quickly speed up, he doesnt do that gradual shit

⊰ quickie ⊱

100% down all the time, he's s busy man & he'll take it whenever he can get it

⊰ risk ⊱

being in public & showing you off isn't a risk to him, Jake really doesnt care

⊰ stamina ⊱

okay.... fight me if you want but I think hes a 2-3 round guy, he is not going all night unless he's mostly paying attention to you

⊰ toys ⊱

he doesn't have much beside some bondage shit but he's very willing to incorporate more into the mix

⊰ unfair ⊱

EXTREMELY unfair, Jake loves to see you beg & cry & tremble for hours before he even thinks of giving you what you want

⊰ volume ⊱

loud, praise, degradation, groans, whimpers, multiple languages. your neighbors will know whats going on from his mouth alone.

⊰ x ray ⊱

⊰ wild card ⊱

jake in himself is a wild card...... but i do think he's the most likely to let tje other two alters watch while he has you to himself & shows off for them

again, if he had his own body....... I wanna say a little thicker than average & noticeably longer than average

⊰ yearning ⊱

jake doesnt yearn in the normal way, he BURNS & watches & schemes how he's going to get you in his hands whether its the first time or the thousandth

⊰ zzz ⊱

⊰ aftercare ⊱

it doesnt come naturally to him, he'll get you water & check if youre okay but you need to tell him what aftercare really is only once then he'll make sure to do it

⊰ body part ⊱

he knows he's handsome & strong but hes not exactly thinking about it at any point. in contrast, you are always on his mind & he loves every little bit of you. he's not very obvious about it but he appreciates your strength & loves the shape of your lips in particular.

⊰ cum ⊱

over your chest, in your open mouth, across your thighs, or inside you - he's flexible

⊰ dirty secret ⊱

he's not one for dirty secrets but Marc does absolutely pay a ton of attention to how you dress & it always gets a reaction out of him

⊰ experience ⊱

he has a decent amount of experience but it's been a decent while since hes really been with anyone, especially not in a meaningful way (pretending he long got divorced from Layla even though I love her)

⊰ favorite position ⊱

his usual preference is probably a mating press but he does enjoy just having his limbs wrapped around you in whatever position

⊰ goofy ⊱

maybe a little playful here & there but Marc is not goofy.

⊰ hair ⊱

trimmed down pretty neat, he doesnt like a mess or anything that isnt decently orderly

⊰ intimacy ⊱

YES, when marc has finally dropped his walls down enough he does become more & more intimate, maybe even soft with you

⊰ jerk off ⊱

yes but not all the time, he's a busy avatar/mercenary/whatever you want to call him so he doesnt have time for that but he does get a little pent up while hes away from you on missions

⊰ kink ⊱

spouse kink. body worship. LIGHT bondage. temperature/sensation play. kind of possessive but not in a super blatant way.

⊰ toys ⊱

⊰ location ⊱

an apartment, a house, a car with blacked out windows, or a hotel room are pretty much his limits

⊰ motivation ⊱

marc is often motivated to get his hands on you but he holds himself back just as much & waits until youre in a private place together for the most part

⊰ no ⊱

no sharing, no nonsense, no public sex, no super obvious pda, no knife play, no risk of harming you in any clear way

⊰ oral ⊱

pretty evenly split between giving & receiving but..... if he had to pick? giving.

⊰ pace ⊱

okay marc tends to be a bit rushed but he can be slow, he can be methodical, & he's always observing your state to make sure youre feeling good

⊰ quickie ⊱

if he just got back from a mission or if you happen to unexpectedly cross paths, he's very down - otherwise he prefers having more time with you

⊰ risk ⊱

no. you & risk do not belong in the same existence if he could control things to that degree. Marc's main type of affection for you is all about protection, keeping you safe, having you close so he can watch you but not so close that you could get hurt

⊰ stamina ⊱

marc has a lot of stamina given his background, so its really up to what you can handle

uhhh well hes got cuffs, rope, zip ties, weapons, & a few other things on hand but hes not really gonna use them on you bc those arent toys

⊰ unfair ⊱

yeah i think Marc enjoys being a tease & making you work for him to reward you but he won't torment you for too long - hes a good middle ground between Jake & Steven

⊰ volume ⊱

marc is prone to low groans & such, some whispered praise or other phrases but hes not super loud

⊰ wild card ⊱

as big, strong, & tough as Marc projects himself to be all the time, he does love it when you take charge over him & he can finally let some of that control go

⊰ x ray ⊱

I mean if he was an individual who didn't share his body with the other two, I would say not exactly long or distinct any other way but generously THICK

⊰ yearning ⊱

nahhhhh marc is not much of an outward yearner & he certainly thinks of you a lot but he won't sit around pining over you

⊰ zzz ⊱

The prince had not moved from the window since Elisabeta had departed the room. Her frustration was reasonable, entirely, and he knew it. In fact, Vlad was willing to take her stance the moment she turned her back to him. Her safety was paramount to all else in his mind, so he argued she should remain in the castle's walls while in her delicate state and most certainly not go riding into the nearby village market on her horse.

Elisabeta conceded the matter of the horse. But she desired the fresh air and openness of the outside, to see her subjects and the things beyond castle walls. Vlad's refusal was never going to stop her, so she merely left without his company. His eyes followed her form as she walked to the stables, then when the carriage rode across the fields in the direction of the village. Before it disappeared from his sight, he was already rushing to gather his horse and follow after her.

A guard remained at her side as she wandered between stalls, watchful of her surroundings but smiling at the people whose wares she glanced across. Her thumb brushed over the smooth, cool stone of a necklace when she noticed that the hue of its pendant was the color of her beloved husband's eyes. She would've happily brought it back to the castle and shown off her find had Vlad been a little less stubborn before her exit.

When she looked across panels of fabric at a different stall, she saw another form in the corner of her eyes. Not Vlad. Not the guard who remained loyally at her other side. Not a villager she had ever remembered seeing before. A traveler, perhaps a merchant, who approached the place where she stood with his attention clearly focused on the princess.

"Pardon my disturbing you, but never in my life have I ever seen such a remarkable beauty. I would have regretted it for all my life if I did not speak to you." The stranger declared in an unplaceable accent.

Elisabeta turned to look directly into his face, understanding his boldness since she was in much plainer clothes than when she appeared as a sovereign. No amusement or interest was reflected in her expression when she addressed him.

"I thank you for your flattery, but I am married." The princess replied, not wishing to expose her true identity but still send the stranger away.

"And yet, you are here alone."

"Perhaps it is unusual where you are from in the western kingdoms, but here women walk freely. Married or not."

"I mean that he is not here beside you. Your husband must not be too devoted to you if he does not accompany his otherworldly beauty to keep her safe from the attentions of others."

Elisabeta scowled, "You will leave me immediately if you cannot hold your tongue."

"You do not deny it- "

"Because she does not need to. The love I possess for my wife is legendary in these lands. You will leave her alone because she demands it, not because I have appeared." Vlad's voice commanded from just beyond the stall.

He approached Elisabeta with a singular focus, his hand reaching for the side of her face and sweeping her into a dizzying kiss. The stranger backed away a few paces, his tail between his legs. When a villager informed him that the woman he offended was the princess and that her husband was known as the Dragon Prince, the stranger vanished from the market entirely. Vlad was indifferent, his mind solely on his wife.

"I am sorry for trying to direct you, I only worry for your safety and the safety of the life you carry with you. It strikes more fear in me than any other danger in the world. Forgive me, my beloved, I will walk with you."

No matter how he tried, the general could not keep himself from glancing across the room at the woman introduced as the cousin to the two emperors. Gold leaves shining in her hair, pearls draping over her skin, and a wispy pale blue dress made her appear ethereal amidst the senators and spoiled royalty. Her family was visiting the marble-spotted capitol for Caracalla's birthday, a day that progressed into a full week of celebrations. The general was required to attend every day of it.

He was only begrudgingly present at the palace and anticipated staying in the shadows until he was free to leave. Guests approached him to speak about his conquests, his reputation, all of the shallow things that the emperors had ordered him to do. The week of celebrations was going to be a complete loss - time that he could have spent in the quiet privacy of his home - until he caught sight of the princess.

She seemed charming, causing the guests around her to laugh with a clever quip and slipping refreshments from the tables surrounding the edges of the room. Much better at carrying herself than her cousins. Case and point being when the emperors started causing a ruckus in the center of the room: a playful fight with grapes as ammunition began between the two of them against their favorite courtesans. Their battle grew in range to take over half of the room.

A painted vase was knocked over in their childish game, breaking as it collided with the floor. Pieces of the vase, stalks of lilies, and small puddles of water were left in their wake. It didn't stop them for a single moment. Servants rushed to clear the mess, and the poised cousin came swiftly to the site of the damage to try reasoning with the emperors into stopping their nonsense. The general watched in admiration.

You tugged your cousins by the backs of their capes, almost making them to slip to the floor. Acacius smirked at the panic on their faces before they caught sight of you and he was impressed by the easy command you had over them. Their fight had been brought to a swift end, though it just as quickly turned into a chase after the courtesans through the entire palace. You shook your head in amused exasperation at the boys but turned to refill your chalice with wine, parched from all the socializing.

The general had observed the target of his interest long enough to decide that he had a good method of approach to you, and that this seemed to be an opportune moment to initiate it. He took in a steadying breath, then followed you to a table covered in golden dishes of various refreshments and large bottles of spirits. You gave a passing glance to the figure entering your peripheral vision, only to look more closely and greet the famed man.

"General Acacius?" You inquired, a smile over your lips.

He raised his brows coyly then sheepishly nodded, happy that you began this interaction so that he didn't accidentally overstep in his own approach.

"It is an honor to meet you, sir. You have done a great deal for Rome, or so the emperors tell me." You tipped your chalice towards him in jest.

He chuckled, "I play my role as we all do. And what is your role in the empire? I'm afraid that I am not familiar with you."

"My role? I am a woman, general." You replied, giving the rest of your answer in a slow, wry tone: "I can join no Roman army, I can rule no empires, I can own no property, and I can have no role. The choices offered women are marriage, working in a shop specializing in what's considered to be ladies' work, menial labor, or becoming a whore. Given that I am cousin to the emperors, I only have the first choice, and my husband must be a powerful man equal to or greater than my own status."

Acacius' eyes looked through you, not just at your face but deeper. Like he was truly listening to your words and understanding what you meant. You took a sip of your wine and sighed, deciding to add in a simpler answer to his question.

"In short, I am a princess. One who has yet to fulfill her given purpose."

He cocked his head slightly, looking to the floor before raising his gaze back to your eyes: "You are more than that. It is plain to see. Others may reduce you to that role, but it would be a horrible underestimation."

Surprise flickered over your face. You didn't anticipate the general to be so earnest, nor supportive of your stance.

But your surprise became a smile and a newfound respect for the war-wearied general blossomed within you. He was far more handsome than you anticipated as well, and unquestionably a cause of trouble if the conversation continued onward during one of these debaucherous palace nights. Luckily, your foolish cousins pulled attention back onto them before you had to give Acacius a response.

They swept across the floor, carrying a courtesan or two on their shoulders and laughing hysterically, "We've got you! And now, we reap the spoils of our chase in the middle of the party!"

You cleared your throat as you took a step closer to them, "There are still children present, Caracalla. Go to your rooms or wait until it is late."

Caracalla turned to his brother, "We should force the children to leave."

"Then you two would also have to leave." You snorted. "Go to your rooms if you cannot wait until it is late enough to begin your... birthday orgy."

A moment passed and they listened to you once again, setting down the courtesans to rejoin the party. A troublesome smile came to their faces as they approached you, then walked past. The emperors wanted to speak with Acacius. You slipped away, disinterested in whatever foolhardy ideas they would discuss with him.

The general's eyes followed your silhouette as his chief commanders spoke to him about yet another campaign, yet another set of battles, yet another land to add to the empire. He was crestfallen when you disappeared from view, having left the common area alongside your parents.

Hours dragged on as the emperors blabbered about an illogical scheme to capture lands neighboring Persia. Their words fell on deaf ears, then stopped when the sky went completely dark. Caracalla was set on his orgy beginning promptly and easily dropped the subject of war. Acacius slipped away before they could find him again.

Dull pain built up along his spine and shoulders from all the battles he had won in all his time. Some were justified. All of the most recent ones were pointless. Rome's people were hungry and the instability of the growing empire outside of the palace was going to overturn the emperors' lives in the lap of luxury. He saw it and he wished to right things. But it wasn't his place, and he could be punished for speaking out of turn.

As he laid in the guest quarters, his back pain slightly eased, and he pushed away the thoughts of another battle to be had. The emperors had likely imbibed enough to forget what they'd said to him. In the stead of those thoughts, the princess occupied his mind.

Her sharp mind and words, the heavenly beauty she possessed, the overpowering pull he felt in his chest to see her just once more. One more time and he would be satisfied. Perhaps for the last time in his life, had the brothers been serious.

Acacius was either a very fortunate or a very unfortunate man. He caught sight of the princess in a marble bust-lined hallway and felt his heart sputter. Then his feet sprung to action, rounding the corner and stepping closer, before he even realized what he was doing or what topic of conversation he could approach you with. You turned at the sound of footsteps and smiled politely when your eyes spotted the general walking to catch up with you.

"Good morning, General." You keened your head in acknowledgement, pausing enroute to the throne room.

"Good morning, it seems my wish was granted." He stated simply, slightly in jest.

"Your wish?"

"To speak with you once more."

You laughed at his response but felt a burn in your cheeks, "You did not wish for that."

"I did." He nodded firmly.

"Whatever for? Our conversation was very brief."

"Because it was brief," he clarified, "I wished to continue, as your wit is incomparably sharp."

You grinned and leaned back against the railing, "Oh? What do you wish to speak with me about?"

"I hadn't quite specified in my wish, you'll have to excuse me if I'm at a loss now."

"Never in my life would I have anticipated rendering Rome's esteemed general speechless." You taunted lightly. "Interested, perhaps, but not with my mind."

"Well, you succeeded in that way as well."

You froze and raised your brows at Acacius, disbelieving the implied message in his words.

"It is the truth - you were so radiant yesterday evening that, I confess, I strategized a means of approach."

"Like a land you wish to conquer?"

"No." He quickly refused. "More akin to... intimidation. A desire to leave a good impression, or be damned."

"Damned? That's dramatic, what could I possibly do to you, General Acacius?"

"Not all wounds are physical, princess, in fact, those can be much more difficult to heal." He pointed out. "I know I deserve no unearthly beauty for all the destruction I've caused, but I couldn't miss a chance just to be near it."

Your brows raised and you crossed your arms, "You are a terrible flatterer. And far more poetic than I would have anticipated from a military man."

"I was well-educated in other matters." Acacius shrugged, glancing as he heard the sound of the emperors' voices echoing from somewhere close. "Would you like to continue this conversation in the gardens?"

A smile grew across your lips, "Already trying to get me alone? I'm afraid we will have to either slip away discreetly or secure a chaperone."

"Discretion, it is." He decided, returning your grin and offering you the crook of his arm.

He guided the two of you, his eyes never leaving your silk-laden form. That was when Acacius decided he was certainly unlucky. Leading the way and definitely distracted from his surroundings, Acacius ventured right towards the two blabbering emperors.

You stayed at his side, firmly, facing your cousins as if they had no title. Acacius' posture straightened and dread filled the pit of his stomach.

"General! We were looking for you!" Caracalla cheered, his golden laurels tipped sideways.

"Yes!" Geta added. "We have an idea for your next campaign!"

"You had those ideas intoxicated last night, Your Majesties. You should be resting, tending to your health." The General began, trying to turn their attention away from himself.

"Leave us, cousin." Geta ordered, looking down at you. "We have to discuss this matter."

You gave him an obstinate look, "I don't think your General is interested. Do you not have six more days of birthday celebrations planned?"

"They can continue without Acacius." Caracalla giggled. "We want him to join us for a few moments, promise cousin."

"I am not his keeper, why do you promise to me?" You scoffed at him, stepping aside and leaving them to their discussion and Acacius to his own decision.

His gaze lingered after you forlornly, wishing to follow behind you. Obligation kept his feet stuck in place.

The emperors were demanding of their general, dangerous if he dared to reject him. Geta began to speak to him, though the first few words of his proposition escaped the general's attention as his focus was turned only upon you, just until you disappeared from his sight. Something about the outskirts of Persia. The same demand made the night before, albeit delivered by a sober emperor now.

"You are distracted, Acacius." Geta paused his proposition to comment. "By our cousin, no doubt?"

He blinked and shook his head fervently, "No. No, we merely crossed paths in the hallway and began a conversation."

Caracalla flicked the general's nose, "You're lying... you're fond of her. She is not yet married, but Geta was hoping to have some defeated king of a new territory marry her to secure a smooth transition of power in a conquered land. But shh!! It is a secret!"

The other brother rolled his eyes, "She is stubborn and will not easily listen, especially to us. It was a false hope. But you, general... you would make an interesting match."

Acacius felt defensive, for himself and for her as he stood before the emperors, "This is not the matter you came to speak to me about."

"Of course." Geta grinned devilishly, seeing that they'd hit a sensitive subject. "The new territory to be added to Rome. Just outside of the lands of Persia."

"If the Parthian armies are to meet us there, we will not likely win." Acacius stated gravely.

"Prepare as if they will be there, but they will not try to stand up to Rome's great power. We have conquered enough lands and toppled enough reigns to strike fear into any adversary." Geta declared proudly, mostly out of overconfidence than any fact.

"Send the army to other territories with clans leading them, not towards other empires." Acacius tried to reason with him.

Caracalla laughed in response, "We know we can defeat them, we don't even need to fight! But other empires... those are true opponents. I wouldn't fight you myself, Acacius, I would send a skilled gladiator."

The general sighed, his frame sinking as he realized that his objections would be futile against the whims and desires of these unreasonable brothers who had the world in the palms of their hands. They drank from gold chalices from birth, were waited on hand and foot, could have anything they wished for in a day's time.

There was no understanding to be had. Either their order was fulfilled, or the one objecting to them would face consequences. Regardless of an objective right or wrong. When his gaze came back up, he looked directly at Geta. Sharp. Calculating. Nearly threatening, but not enough to spark the emperor's wrath.

Acacius had his orders, true, though he was a respected general whose word carried meaning. He wouldn't agree to this without terms. Then, at least, he would have some motivation behind it - either he would go and fail, leading to a warrior's death, or he would go and succeed only on account of knowing what awaited him at home.

"I have one condition." The general began. "If I complete this order, you will retire me from my position and allow me to live the rest of my life without bother."

"Retirement? You are still quite skilled, Acacius, and who would you replace yourself with?" Geta prompted, anticipating his general would back down.

"Your best gladiator. Emperor Caracalla, you did say such a man would be a suitable opponent for me. He would be suited to take my place."

"We cannot have a prisoner who won freedom lead the Roman army." Geta scoffed.

"Perhaps it will catalyze a sense of loyalty to the empire. A responsibility and power they were not granted before. It could be strong leverage for you, Your Majesty."

"Hmm... perhaps you are right." He paused, considering the offer as he languidly paced across the cool floors. "For fulfilling conquest of land just outside of Persian territory, you wish to retire... and we have a loyal, skilled fighter take your place... Fine. I approve of the bargain. Your army leaves tomorrow."

The general let out a sigh of relief at the approval, yet just as quickly felt tension creep back into his tired body. Tomorrow. Hardly any time to really prepare. No time to spend with you. The journey would be long and grueling, with a reward only once he was able to return all the way to Rome with new lands under the emperors' names.

It would be worth it for his retirement and his chance to finally live his own life, not to live it for the empire nor its leaders. His army was notified promptly and preparations were made for weapons, supplies, transport, and units. Meanwhile, Acacius spent his limited time strategizing for the battle ahead.

Every so often, between his ideas to seize land and overpower an adversary, you crept into his mind.

You illuminated it from the gruesome thoughts that otherwise occupied him. The general smiled lightly as he remembered your words, your smile, your eyes... you would keep him alive through this battle, he already knew it. And once he was finished, he would return and keep you at his side if you'd let him. That thought helped Acacius eventually fall asleep; it was the only thing that settled him.

And it was you that woke him up in the morning: the sound of your voice calling his name and your footsteps just beyond the door. Without a knock or a care for propriety, you pushed it open and marched through the chambers to find him. White silk draped over your frame, gold accessories shining like pieces of the sun's rays completing the look of a goddess standing at the foot of the bed he laid in.

Perhaps in another life, Acacius would rejoice at the sight of you at his bedside as a new day dawned. But there was a stern tension over your features and a ferocity powering your every step - things he wished to never see you bothered by. He rose to a partial seat over the pillows, quiet in anticipation of the speech you were about to give him.

"I expected you would be capable of managing two overgrown children with too much power in their hands." You began. "Then I see the mess of troop preparations and hear of a campaign you are meant to lead, departing Rome today."

Your tone was like the edge of a blade. Accusing. Not necessarily aiming the point at him, but including him in your threat.

Acacius' gaze fell and he frowned, "You overestimate my power over your cousins. I am a pawn of theirs, the one that controls their military force. I answer to them and they care little for any inputs I may have, regardless of my experience in battle and in life.

Your eyes narrowed, questioning his response. The news of the campaign felt like a betrayal. Between the idiocy of your cousins' decisions, the lack of power in the general's hands despite leading the entire Roman army, and your inability to sway either side. Not that it required your input whatsoever, but you thought that someone might respect your say as a typical voice of reason.

"Princess," Acacius negotiated with you, "I did try to dissuade them. I wish for nothing more than to rest, to have stability in Rome, and remain far from the battlefield. Believe me."

You sighed, letting your arms drop to your sides from the way they had been crossed over your chest before.

A smile formed over the general's face as he continued: "Why the concern anyways, princess? I am an acquaintance to you, nothing more."

"Concern?" You repeated, brows raising.

His smile grew, "Yes, concern. It is early, you seemed in a rush to get to me. It is also improper for you to barge into my chambers, especially as I am a man and you are a young woman of considerable status."

Hearing the teasing in his tone, you allowed the accusation roll off your back, "And if I am? Out of principle, of course."

"I do not believe you." Acacius laughed. "Your concern is rooted in the same sentiment my wishing to speak with you once more came from."

A quiet settled in the space between the two of you. It gave both of you a chance to realize the situation you were both in, a sense of vulnerability blooming in your stomach. Not enough to shake you. Acacius waited for you to make a response, his smile turning from teasing to fond. That same fond feeling warmed your chest. The casual eye contact slowly became a knowing look shared between the two of you, a waiting game. Waiting for something to happen.

The general stood up cautiously, the blanket slipping down the length of his tunic-clad frame. You stood in place, daring him to continue pursuing whatever his objective was. He moved slowly, granting you more than enough time to flee or stop him. His hands reached for your wrists, delicately setting his fingers over them when he was close enough to you. The warmth in your chest spread as your heart began to race.

His proximity emboldened you. That, and his imminent departure. You took a half-step closer to him then raised a hand to the side of his face, just to keep steady of course. Leaning in, you left a brief kiss at his cheek and lowered your hand back down where he could grasp it. The general's face flushed red and a smile remained over his lips.

"For luck." You explained. "Though, I presume a well-experienced general has little need for it."

"It is the gesture that matters." He reassured you, holding the tops of your hands in his much warmer ones. "And it will give me reason to complete this campaign and return home swiftly."

You snickered, leaning forward just a little bit to deliver your next line: "If you make it back within three fortnights, I can promise you far more than a kiss on the cheek."

He shook his head in disbelief, "It is a good thing that the emperors do not know what you are capable of, princess. They would be far more successful in persuading me of anything, had they utilized you to do the convincing."

"I will keep my abilities under covers, for the last thing I want is to have you disappear on any further ghastly military business."

"I have no desire to return to it, the emperors swore to retire me after this. There can be no further battles for me and I have hope that you will advocate on my behalf should my agreement with the emperors be dishonored."

You nodded in understanding and pressed a kiss just as lightly on his other cheek, "For.. well, that one was just from me. A memory of home, perhaps"

He smiled sentimentally and brought your hands up to his lips, "The road is long, the fighting is gruesome, and the men quickly grow tired. You will be with me every moment, the only light amidst it all. I would wish to wed you upon my return but I know you are too headstrong to simply accept such a proposal."

You laughed, "If you return within two fortnights, you shall become my husband. Is that acceptable to you, general?"

"Marcus." He corrected.

"Marcus." You repeated. "Do not leave me for long if you do not wish to lose me."