#i'm not gonna say how many times I watched these gifs
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mnnuni · 2 days ago
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Into you
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Elliot Stabler x reader
Summary: an undercover operation that exposes some other kind of secrets
Words: 4498
Warnings: mentions of drugs, eventual smut -but very filthy-
Author's note: first of all, sorry if it's too long. Second, yes it is based on Ariana's song, or at least the movie it started in my head when I heard the song on shuffle. Little note in the note: this story is not necessarily in any time and place of the series, I just included Munch and Cassidy because I'm (kinda re)watching season 1 and I love them so much.
* gif and images from Pinterest
* dividers from @cafekitsune
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"You're sure you want to do this?"
(Y/N) couldn't say how many times Olivia had already asked her that question, in different ways and places of the district.
She inhaled, closed her eyes
You can do it
"I'm sure Liv, don't worry"
Her colleague smiled at her through the mirror, "then let's finish this make up".
Their team was organising an undercover operation in a fancy club, it was an easy thing : go in, find the drugs, go out.
Of course there was a little detail that determined how the operation was gonna be; this club had a high standard for its clientele and specific rules they had to follow, number one being : "only couples allowed".
Now, the easy take was to send the infamous Benson and Stabler and call it a day, but Olivia couldn't because she had too many extra hours covered already. The next couple would have been (Y/N) and Cassidy, if Munch wouldn't have explained for ten minutes straight how Brian wasn't ready to do a thing like that.
So that left her to work with Elliot.
If it was a normal job (Y/N) wouldn't have worries of any kind, Elliot was a good cop and she trusted him with her life; but going out in a club made for sex and whatnot, faking being the girlfriend of the coworker she so desperately wanted ... that was another thing. That was also the reason why Olivia was so concerned for her, she was the only one that caught (Y/N) staring at her partner in a different way someday -at least she hoped so, even if the others could have known they never said anything-
Elliot was done dressing up ten minutes ago and everyone was growing bored to wait for the women.
"You done playing, ladies?" Munch started screaming and pounding on the door of the locker room, "come on we don't have all night".
When the duo got out the first thing the men noticed were (Y/N)'s legs : she wore a deep blue-almost black dress, it almost reached the knees on the right leg and was shorter on the left. Cassidy whistled when his eyes travelled up her figure and landed on her chest, tightly held up by the dress straps. (Y/N) did a spin, moving her curled hairs in the process and showed her half-bare back.
"Well Miss (Y/L/N) can surely do the work"
"Thank you Much", she was trying so hard not to fumble dressed like this in front of her colleagues, but they didn't have to know that.
"Y-you have, um, I can see your lace" Cassidy said pointing at her upper body, he tried to smirk and be flirty but he got too caught up when (Y/N) got closer "It's intentional Brian, now don't get too flustered". Munch chuckled and his partner was about to defend himself when Cragen cleared his throat and announced they were ready to go.
Elliot was the only one to not say a single word. Noone knew that was because his brain short circuited for a moment seeing (Y/N) like that.
I'm so into you
I can barely breathe
Even in the car to the club he remained silent, too caught up in his head, until they were almost there and (Y/N) was about to explode "now that we're still off, are you okay?" ; her voice startled him for a moment, he nodded and mumbled a sure and kept driving. Five minutes later they were parking.
Elliot took a big breath and finally turned to face her, "okay, so, if someone or something triggers you at any moment for any reason, you tell me and we're out" she nodded and then saw their van stopping few meters away so she leaned in to Elliot and searched in his jacket to switch the microphone, "do you hear us?", someone in the van switched the headlights on and off to answer her, "let's go then"
Elliot got out of the car and went to open the door for her, proceeding to take her arm in his to walk to the club. At the entrance there were two big men with the guest lists, "Stabler", he looked at them for a moment then checked his papers. It was a strangely nice feeling to be part of the "Two for Stabler", (Y/N) wanted to feel like this for real not just for a job.
The man stepped aside and opened the door for them; the first thing they saw was the wardrobe where (Y/N) left her jacket, then they were guided to a red lit corridor that ended to a glass door. There they were, in the middle of the upper class most scandalous nights, they were walking arm in arm between politicians, rich entrepreneurs and whores.
They walked to the bar to have a full view of the room: in the centre there was a little stage for the dj and the eventual singers, all around there were occupied tables, at the left side there were sort of cabins to be more private and to the right big glass doors that they knew took to the private rooms.
(Y/N) was the one facing the bar, counting all the staff members while Elliot, next to her, scanned the rest of the room to search their suspects.
"What can I get you, beautiful?"
(Y/N) was sure the bartender talked to her just because he was mere inches apart from her face, otherwise she wouldn't have think he would have flirted with her, while at work.
Elliot turned in an instant, placing his arm around her back "she would have a Martini, and a soda for me" he was shooting daggers to the poor man, who instantly backed away to do their orders.
(Y/N) was looking at him with a clear expression of "was that necessary?" and he just got closer to her, "what? You're mine tonight"
Her eyebrows shot up so fast she thought she was losing them; Elliot too was a little surprised by his choice of words, even if he so desperately wanted them to be true and not just for tonight.
But close ain't close enough
'Til we cross the line, hey, yeah
So name a game to play
And I'll roll the dice, hey
(Y/N) smirked and turned to face him, "you should..." she bit her lip and unbuttoned his shirt a little "I think it's better like this"
The bartender came back with their glasses before Elliot could say anything, "thank you" she looked at his tag "Brandon" he smiled and was about to go back to work but (Y/N) reached out and took his hand "excuse my boyfriend here, he's not used to share me" he smiled "no I'm sorry, I didn't gather you two were..." Elliot brought her to his chest "together? Yes"
"Tell me Brandon, is there a way we could use your private services?"
Elliot knew that they had to, but oh was he nervous to be in a bedroom with her.
"Did you make a reservation?"
She shook her head, "don't worry, you can wait at one of the private tables. One of us will call you when you can go in the rooms", he then guided them to the right side of the club.
To any possible looker these two were one of the other couples tangled in eachother, waiting for a new experience. In reality (Y/N) had her legs on Elliot's ones to be more closer and be clearly heard in the microphone, she was describing every customer to whoever was listening to them in order to have a complete list of witnesses, just in case. She drank a little and then went to play with Elliott's shirt's collar; he had one of his hands gripping her thighs and the other arm around her, laid on the back of the sofa and occasionally brushing strands of hair off her face.
They were so fucking close to each other.
Every now and then Elliot mumbled something, just to not look suspicious but he really couldn't formulate something longer that two sentences with (Y/N)'s lips so close to his face.
After the longest twenty-five minutes of his life a man cleared his throat next to them, Elliot was so scared of the possibility this was just another flirty guy who wanted to try it with (Y/N) -this open sex club was extremely hard to accept for a man like him- but fortunately it was the chauffeur for the rooms. He led them to the big glass doors and left them in another corridor with a pair of keys and the number five on them.
After he left them alone it was the first instant when they weren't touching in any way and they missed the contact immediately, so much that Elliot took her hand in his.
(Y/N) exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holdin when Elliot closed the door of their room, "okay, so report of the room : massive bed"
They started to search in every corner for anything that could help them with the operation while describing everything out loud.
"I've never seen this many condoms in my life" she suddenly said after opening two drawers, Elliot blushed looking at her with the envelopes in her hands. "Also, the flavour matches the one of the condoms found in the hotel, so now we have the confirmation that they're from here"
"How are you so sure?"
"Well for one, I have the assurance that no pharmacy ever has sold "coke flavored condoms" and because there's the name of the club on the envelope"
He just nodded, "right" and proceeded to open another drawer "oh look we have toys too", Elliot picked up a pair of fluffy handcuffs and showed them to her, "you like 'em detective?"
Was he...nah
Either way, she couldn't let him win, so she marched to him to whisper "I tend to use them to others, not me"
Oh, baby, look what you started
The temperature's rising in here
They were ready to inspect anything further when (Y/N) heard walking from the corridors, "someone's coming" "what?" and then a knock on the room next to them "they're entering the rooms" Elliot whispered.
"Loose the jacket"
He was about to ask why, but he knew better than to question her; she was so hot commanding orders. He carefully positioned the jacket on the back of a chair "I'm gonna put you here guys". When he turned back he found (Y/N) sat on the bed, taking off her heels "what are you-?" "We're supposed to look couply here, we can't be caught investigating" she obviously was right, but Elliot was in a very difficult position here now after she shoved him on the bed.
"So we're..." he was making some gesture with his hands while (Y/N) tried to find the courage to do something, "we have to" "yeah" and then he sat straight on the bed, waiting, thinking.
Elliot didn't have time before (Y/N) moved slightly her dress and positioned herself on his lap whit her legs on either side of him
Is this gonna happen?
Been waiting and waiting for you to make a move (ooh, ooh)
Before I make a move (ooh, ooh)
"Are you sure?"
Elliot was literally burning up.
Then she took his hands and put them on her hips, nodding. They felt so good on her.
They heard more loud walking so they inched closer, then a knock "room service";
So, baby, come light me up
And maybe I'll let you on it
A little bit dangerous
But, baby, that's how I want it
Poor guy didn't get an answer because they launched at each other to kiss. One of Elliot's hands travelled to her exposed back and the other gripped her hips more firmly. (Y/N)'s lips tasted of lipstick and were so soft to his rough kiss he wanted to die like this;
A little less conversation and a little more touch my body
'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you
her hands were gripping his hair and taking him even closer to her. When her breasts pressed to his chest and he felt her lace to his portion of exposed-by-the-unbottoned-shirt pecs he was losing it, Elliot moved her hips on him and that's when she moaned in his mouth.
At the other side of the microphone their colleagues were a mix of confused and delighted.
Got everyone watchin' us
So, baby, let's keep it secret
A little bit scandalous
But, baby, don't let them see it
"Are they...?" Cassidy was having the time of his life when (Y/N) moaned
"They are" they could hear Elliot's now because (Y/N) was kissing his neck "they so are", confirmed Olivia and Munch.
That's when another knock was heard and finally the person opened the door.
The couple got off each other's lips just because the guy excused himself. Then reality came back down again.
Elliot moved to hear the man better, putting his hands under (Y/N)'s butt to cover her.
"I'm sorry to interrupt you, I am at your service tonight" he had a tray with champagne in his hand and just a pair of trousers on. (Y/N) didn't falter for a second there, getting up and meeting their guest, "oh don't be sorry, we got a little carried away"
She could hear Cassidy chuckles in her head.
"I'm (Y/N), come meet my boyfriend" she took the tray from him and gestured for the guy to sit next to Elliot, who introduced himself. She then sat on the other side of the guy, putting her legs on both the men's ones; Elliot gave her a side glance at how comfortable she looked putting herself on this guy.
"Tell us..."
"Caleb"
She smiled, "Caleb, how does it work, your service?"
He proceeded to explain how they were a fancy club for couples who wanted to explore their sexual lives, he didn't know but the more he talked the more criminal sentences he was giving this place. Elliot was more than pleased to look at (Y/N) flirt and touch this man to give them everything and more they needed.
"And tell me, is there a way to have some... Incentives?" she got up to sit down on Elliot again, "you see my boyfriend here has a hard time with all my eccentricities, but he's willing to try tonight and I'm sure that with some magical helps he would love to have the both of us"
Elliot was dying under her caresses.
The guy was starting to negate the service when he jumped in the ring again, "we're willing to pay more, of course"
Caleb's eyes lit up then; he agreed and got up to a wall, pressed some invisible buttons and revealed a cabinet full of any kind of powders.
"Now the party can start"
This was (Y/N)'s signal to the team to start moving.
While Elliot was next to Caleb pretending to choose what would have been his poison, they heard some commotion from the outside. They didn't break character for a minute, (Y/N) was comfortably laying on the bed when Munch got the door down and declared the guy under arrest.
"Finally"
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Now, the easy part was done: the club was shot down, the owners were arrested and the ADA had so much proof to put everyone working there behind bars that they even thanked the team.
The hard times were just about to start when an hour later they were still at the precinct doing reports; Elliot and (Y/N) didn't have a chance to talk yet and she was almost grateful for this, what could she even possibly say? Sorry if I devoured your face and I used our operation as an excuse to make out to you?!
She kept her head low and just wrote in the files for the entire time, she was also grateful no one said anything about their work -even if she was sure Cassidy and Munch had some sly remarks ready the instant she and Elliot walked out the doors, Olivia only threatened them if they talked. (Y/N) could sense Brian's struggle to shut up at the desk in front of her-
Meanwhile Elliot was just opposite her, on the other side of the room and couldn't take his eyes off of her; they were still in their clothes, (Y/N) just raised her hairs with a clip -which made her ten times sexier in his opinion- and got free of her heels. He did just half the report because he was too engrossed in looking at her, how calmed she seemed while she worked and how she bit her lip from time to time while thinking about bigger words to fill her papers. But mostly he couldn't stop thinking about how stupid he was to not talk to her yet, after he had the best kiss of his life and just wanted to repeat it forever.
(Y/N) was painfully oblivious to Elliot's stare, too preoccupied to avoid taking notice of Cassidy eyes moving from Munch to Elliot -they had practically cleaned her lipstick stains on Elliot's lips and neck for the amount of times they looked at them-
When she was done she got up, handed over her files and went away; she just squeezed Olivia's shoulder on the way, but didn't say a word to anyone.
It took Elliot the time she started the car and drove off to understand he had to move too, but only after Cassidy threw him an eraser and Olivia screamed at him to "go take his girl".
It made him smile to think about her that way.
The knock (Y/N) heard from her door were so strong and determined she instantly went to see whose was, she opened the door with a confused expression on her face.
"Hi"
She just made him space on the door to enter her apartment.
Elliot didn't know where to start, how could he explain things to her when he didn't stop and thought about it?! He inhaled a big breath and prepared himself for a big monologue.
This could take some time, hey
I made too many mistakes
Better get this right, right, baby
"First of all, I'm sorry" she was about to answer but he made a motion with his hand to stop her, "please let me get this all out first"
"Sure, right", (Y/N) sat on the couch and invited him to join her -she was actually shitting herself considering his tone, but she sensed that he needed this moment so she'd wait to do anything, even if she'd wanted to crumble right then and there-
Elliot took a place next to her, diverting his legs in order to face her. Ugh.
Tell me what you came here for
'Cause I can't, I can't wait no more
I'm on the edge with no control
And I need, I need you to know
You to know, oh, yeah
"I'm sorry if anything that I did, or didn't do tonight made you uncomfortable. I wasn't expecting the turn that took the night, but I must specify I was pleasantly surprised."
Maybe (Y/N) could restart breathing.
"(Y/N) you're an amazing woman, I admire you as a cop and I love working with you"
Why did this sound like a rejection? Or worse, a goodbye!?
"But most of all, I loved kissing you tonight"
Oh shit
He took her hands in his, "I know that we're supposed to be professional and I don't want to seem irrational right now, but I'd really fucking like to kiss you again, more then once"
She was flabbergasted. She couldn't form a thought, her jaw was on the floor and her heart was beating at the rate of a heart attack.
"Please say something"
So, baby, come light me up (light me up)
And maybe I'll let you on it
A little bit dangerous (dangerous)
But, baby, that's how I want it (how I want it)
A little less conversation and a little more touch my body
'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you
(Y/N) pulled him from the shirt and kissed him, more confident than before. She pressed him to her putting her arms around his neck, while his found her waist; she opened her mouth to taste his tongue and he fucking groaned through the kiss, she was ready to fight his tongue for dominance when he pulled away.
"So I guess you..."
"Yes Elliot" she kissed the corner of his mouth "I like you too" and then his jaw "and I really like to kiss you" moving to his neck "and I'd like to do it for quite some time, if you'd like"
"I would love to", he was turning his face to kiss her again but she got closer to his ear to whisper something, "I would also want for you to fuck me, like right now" and then she smirked.
She didn't give him time to do anything because she ran away to her bedroom; Elliot woke up from his trans and followed her, finding her in front of the mirror trying to get away from her dress. He came up behind her and took her hands' place on her zipper.
He unzipped it so slowly, kissing every inch he discovered and then let the dress fall at her feet.
"Fuck"
He palmed her naked breasts, still looking at (Y/N) through the mirror, her head fell on his chest from the pleasure.
"I think you're too much covered" she decided when she turned around and got unbuttoned his shirt with one powerful move.
"Ehi! I liked that shirt" Elliot himself knew he was only half complaining, "I like it better off" she fucking licked her lips looking at his bare torso.
(Y/N) kissed every part of his chest, from the clavicle to his pecs; she sucked one of his nipples and was happily pleased when she realised his breath was becoming more erratic. She trailed her tongue down all his abs until she got on her knees, asking the permission to unbuckle his belt and jeans.
"You can do me whatever you want love"
Love
She worked his clothes rather quickly and stopped only in front of his underwear: shit, he was big. But she couldn't praise him about his size yet. She palmed his boner and got excited enough to yank his underwear away and take his dick in her hands.
Elliot was dying of anticipation there.
After stroking him two times (Y/N) licked his shaft and he hissed. He was ready!
Finally she put her mouth on his tip and sucked all the dick down in her mouth.
"Holy shit", he grabbed her hair and she looked at him with big eyes before she started to move her head up and down. She was phenomenal. At some point she took his balls in her hand and started squeezing, "oh my- (Y/N)"
It took her two minutes of full bobbing before she had to take air, but she never stopped touching him, always licking on nipping his tip. When she put her mouth on him again she started to move faster and sucking harder. Elliot was a moaning mess up there, moving his hips in sync with her.
"Baby I'm gonna-" he couldn't talk, she gripped his ass and sucked his cock so much deeper in her mouth he couldn't even think before he shot down her throat. She kept moving her head until he stopped screaming for her and came down his high.
When she left his dick (Y/N) was smiling and Elliot loved this. He helped her get up, just to take her in his arms and put her on the bed.
"You were-"
"Amazing, I know" he chucked, "you really were", he kissed her neck then, lowering himself on her. He felt her wet panties to his cock, who was already recovering feeling her like this. He moved his hands through all her leg, stopping at her inner thigh and sensing her warmth. Elliot looked her in her eyes when he finally put a hand on her pussy. She hissed at the contact.
"You're soaked baby"
"A good cock might do this to me"
She wasn't even embarrassed to show him how much she wanted him; he smirked and slowly let herself free of her panties.
"Look at her, so pretty and ready for me"
His talking of her pussy made her involuntarily lift her hips, which made Elliot smirk even more before he put a finger on her clit.
"Mmmh"
"That's right love"
Fuck he was good with his fingers. She knew he was only giving his dick time to recover, but (Y/N) was enjoying every minute of his fingers entering her hole. She was gripping his forearm when he pushed his second finger in to "prep her for his dick", he said. She was sure he was just enjoying her so fucked up just by his fingers.
"El I need you, now"
His face lit up, "you sure?", she took his cock and aligned it with her entrance, soaking it with her wetness "I'm sure".
He pushed into her very slowly, he was relishing in every inch of her stretching to his length. When he was done he waited a few seconds to move, admiring (Y/N)'s face while she adjusted to his size; suddenly she moved her hips making him hiss and then start to pound into her at a determinate pace.
"God, yes"
She was feeling every inch of his big dick and she was fucking loving it. He moved so well into her while also paying attention to every other part of her : when he wasn't kissing her neck, he was squeezing her tits or whispering dirty things in her ears.
She was loving his dirty talk.
"Come on baby, let me feel you squeeze my dick"
(Y/N) never moaned so loudly in her life. One of her hands was gripping the sheets and the other was firm to Elliot's back to have him always there, pounding into her, extremely close and sweaty. When Elliot started playing with her clit (Y/N)'s eyes rolled so back he was afraid she'd loose them.
"I-I'm so close baby"
Fuck, she called him baby
Elliot became even faster and impatient to let her finish around him; she was a screaming mess while she cum but Elliot loved her clenched pussy around him. Before he could cum he pulled out and finished on her stomach, still patting her clit while he stroked himself.
It was the sexiest thing (Y/N) ever saw; the scene became even more erotic when Elliot went down and licked his cum from her skin and then got up to her face saying "it tastes like you".
She smiled at him and pulled him in her arms, "after you'd done a thing like this, I'll never give you away"
"And I'll never leave, love"
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hazzybat · 4 months ago
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I just really love this bit of the video for no reason at all
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aprilblossomgirl · 1 year ago
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# mood 1 + mood 2 (basically)
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sugoroo · 3 months ago
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SHARING IS CARING!
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ʚɞ summary: satoru agrees to share his girlfriend with kento for one night to help ease some of the stress he’s been under lately! but that doesn’t mean he’s going to make it easy for his co-worker.
warnings: fem!reader, voyeurism, cuck!satoru, oral (m receiving), breast play, penetration (p in v), fingering, pussydrunk nanami, squirting, praise kink, 18+ minors dni.
wc: 7.1k
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despite how much satoru enjoys teasing his co-worker kento nanami, he can see how much stress the other man has been under lately. it’s clear from the heavy bags underneath his eyes, the way his back is almost permanently hunched in exhaustion.
the white-haired sorcerer spent an embarrassingly long amount of time in his office brainstorming different ideas to attempt to cheer nanami up. his usual go-to for anyone else would be to buy them some sweets, but he has a feeling that wouldn’t be too appreciated in this situation.
and then, after his phone buzzed with a newly received text from you: his pretty little girlfriend who was currently waiting for him at home — a lightbulb lit up in his head.
he could give you to nanami to cheer him up.
well, when he says ‘give’, of course he really means lending you to nanami. a one-time only gift (that must be returned after use) as it were.
and satoru will unarguably be present to observe the entire interaction too — he has to make sure nanami treats his sweet girl the way she deserves, after all. if the other man was to leave you unsatisfied, he would very possibly have to hollow purple him.
(and he also wouldn’t be completely opposed to watching his much-too-uptight co worker unravel before his eyes, either. but he’ll keep that part to himself.)
pleased with his newest idea, satoru practically skips along the halls on the way to nanami's office, a wide grin stretched across his lips and anticipation buzzing throughout his body.
"hellooo, nanamin!" he coos obnoxiously once he arrives outside his co-worker's office, craning his neck to peek his head around the doorway. "you in here?"
nanami audibly sighs at the sound of the white-haired man's voice, glancing up briefly from his desk with an unimpressed look pulling at his visibly exhausted features. "yes, gojo, i'm clearly in here. what is it you want this time?"
satoru holds up his hands in mock surrender, his grin never faltering as he steps fully inside the office. it's clear he's up to no good (even more so than usual), given the way he's practically vibrating on the spot with excitement.
"well?" the blonde man prompts impatiently, his eyes already cast back down to the various piles of paperwork splayed across his desk. he's evidently in no mood to deal with satoru's mischief.
"now now, don't rush me!" he huffs in response, his lower lip jutting out in an overdramatic pout despite knowing nanami isn't even looking in his direction right now. "this is a very... sensitive topic. so i'm gonna need you to pay suuuper close attention. got it?"
at this, nanami looks up from his papers, his annoyance slowly morphing into cautiousness. "sensitive how? this better not be about you wanting to know how many people i've bedded in the past, because i already told you that i will never dignify such a shameless question with an answer."
"what? no! it's not about that," satoru chuckles amusedly, before tapping the bottom of his chin with a slender finger in a theatrical display of thought. "....although, i really should find out the answer to that eventually."
nanami rolls his eyes all the way to the back of his head behind his goggles, bringing two fingers up to rub his temple. "i don't have time for this, gojo. whatever it is you came here to ask, will you just spit it out already?"
"alright, alriiight!" the white-haired sorcerer whines petulantly, sauntering further into the office and leaning his elbows against his co-worker's desk like he owns the place. "so, i've noticed you've been under a lot of stress lately—"
"which is none of your business, might i add." the other man deadpans bluntly, his lips set into their usual tight line as he regards satoru.
"sure. but, as your co-worker and friend, i've decided to make it my business," he retorts without missing a beat, waving a pale hand dismissively in nanami's direction as he continues speaking. "and i've come up with the perfect solution to cheer you up!"
nanami raises a blonde eyebrow at this, visibly still cautious but (hopefully) a little curious now. "oh, have you now?" he mutters tightly, attempting to hide the subtle interest hiding under his tone. but satoru notices, because of course he does.
"mhmm," satoru croons mischievously, his grin morphing into a little smirk as he leans further across the desk. "would you like to hear it, nanamin?"
the interest in his colleague's expression is gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by irritation yet again as he releases a deep sigh. "i'm not in the mood for your games, gojo. are you going to tell me or not?"
"ugh, fine," the white-haired man groans dramatically, rolling his eyes behind his blindfold. "can't blame a guy for trying to build up a little suspense."
satoru rifles around in his pocket for a few moments before pulling out his phone, instantly thrusting the device directly into nanami's face with absolutely no context.
"what—" nanami begins, his words quickly trailing off into an unintelligible sound of some description once he catches sight of the picture being displayed on his colleague's lock screen. "oh."
"like what you seee?" he coos obnoxiously from behind the phone, tilting his head to the side in an attempt to get a better view of the other man's reaction. "just kidding - i know you do."
"this... is that your girlfriend?" the blonde man croaks out, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically flustered. "and why is that your lockscreen, for the love of god?"
satoru just shrugs nonchalantly, jerking the phone back towards himself and taking a moment to admire the photo of you. it's your pretty body, completely bare on his bed, perky breasts on full display and smooth legs spread wide to reveal your abused pussy which was just oozing with ropes of his goopy cum.
"yes, it's my girlfriend," he hums proudly, shoving the device back into his pocket before fixing nanami with another wide grin. "and why not? it's not like anyone else sees it except me. until now, obviously."
"right," the other man breathes out, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows thickly in a poor attempt to try and compose himself. "and, pray tell, why did you feel the need to show me that?"
satoru huffs dramatically, as if having to actually explain the proposition he's come up with is taking a serious toll on him. "come onn, nanamin. use that brilliant brain of yours! i say i have a way to relieve some of your stress, and then i show you that picture..."
nanami visibly tenses as the realization of what his colleague is suggesting washes over him, his eyes narrowing into cautious slits. but he doesn't want to get ahead of himself, just in case he misinterpreted his words, so he settles for saying — "is this another one of those highly unamusing pranks of yours, gojo?"
the white-haired man rolls his eyes yet again, leaning even closer over the desk and tilting his head to the side in a playful manner. "you really think i'd show you a naked picture of my girl if this was just a prank?"
as much as it irks nanami to admit, even to himself, his co-worker does has a point there.
"touché." he grumbles under his breath, trying his best to keep up his uninterested façade despite how obviously affected he is by seeing that picture of you; needless to say, he thinks satoru is a very lucky man.
"that's all you're gonna say? touché?" satoru repeats incredulously, throwing his hands up in the air theatrically. "no 'yes please, gojo, i'd love to get me some of that'?"
"first of all, i would never say it so crudely," the blonde man retorts with his nose wrinkled in not-so-subtle disgust, shaking his had faintly. "and second of all, i'm not the sort of man who takes what doesn't belong to him."
satoru snorts out a loud laugh at this. "ugh, drop the serious act for a minute, nanamin! it's not like you're stealing her away from me or anything. i'm just offering some... one-time only stress relief, that's all."
"whatever you say, gojo," he mutters dismissively, waving a hand in his direction before rubbing his temple yet again. "even if i was to consider such a proposition, have you asked your girlfriend if she would be willing to participate?"
"yeah, sooo, about that..." satoru responds in an elongated hum, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck somewhat sheepishly.
"satoru—"
"wait, wait! just let me explain," the white-haired man squeaks hurriedly, waving around his hands theatrically. the rare use of his first name from his colleague clearly shows just how annoyed he is at this point. "i was so excited when i came up with the idea that i kinda-maybe-definitely forgot to ask her."
"why am i not surprised?" nanami huffs bluntly, clearly losing whatever interest he may have begrudgingly gained when he saw the photo.
but just before he can return to his work, satoru quickly speaks up again. "hey, wait just a minute! she's my girl, and i know my girl. she'll say yes."
nanami pauses for a few moments, silently cursing the way he's actually considering this insane proposition. but there's two facts he can't deny — one: he has been under a lot of stress lately, and he wouldn't exactly mind releasing it. and two: satoru's girlfriend is incredibly attractive.
much to his chagrin, he doesn't have a good reason to say no.
"...alright."
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and that's how kento nanami finds himself standing outside your and satoru's apartment a week later, his fist hovering just above the door as he attempts to process what's awaiting him on the other side.
he can't quite believe he's actually going to 'release his stress' by using satoru's pretty little girlfriend who he's never even met before today. but he knows that not going through with it isn't an option — especially when he'll have to endure his colleague's relentless teasing afterwards.
so he knocks.
and it's you who opens the door, dressed in nothing but one of satoru's old shirts that is definitely much too long for you, the baggy fabric practically swallowing you whole as you stand before nanami.
"oh!" you gasp in realization as you look up at him, a small smile spreading across your lips as you kindly extend a hand to the man in front of you. "you must be kento! toru's told me a lot about you."
nanami, much to his own embarrassment, takes a few long moments to recover from the sight of you. somehow, you're even more beautiful in person than you were in that photo on his co-worker's lockscreen (despite being much more... clothed now.)
"ahem. yes, that's me," he murmurs after swallowing roughly, taking your hand in his own to give it a quick shake. he tries not to let his eyes linger too long on the size difference between them; how your hand practically disappears beneath his. "all good things, i hope?"
"oh, of course." you chuckle softly, stepping to the side and opening the door a little wider in a silent initiation for him to come inside. this is it — his last chance to just blow this whole thing off and drive home.
but he doesn't take that chance.
instead, he shuffles inside with a polite smile in your direction, pulling his other hand from behind his back to reveal a bouquet of flowers he'd bought on the way over here; he wasn't exactly sure what was an appropriate gift for someone else's girlfriend who was going to let him have sex with her, so he settled for some simple roses.
you close the door behind the two of you, your eyes widening when they fall on the flowers. how very... gentlemanly. you hadn't expected him to bring any type of present tonight — from what you'd gathered from satoru, this was going to be a very transactional exchange.
"sorry... is this too forward?" nanami mutters a little awkwardly, toying with the petal of one of the roses. "if you don't want them, i can go put them back in my—"
"no, no! they're beautiful," you say quickly, grasping the bouquet from him with a warm smile stretching across your lips. "it's really sweet of you. i just wasn't expecting it, that's all."
the blonde man seems to relax slightly at this, his tensed shoulders slowly deflating and a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. it's clear he's never done anything like this before; but then again, neither have you.
but when satoru had come to you with the idea of helping out his thoroughly overworked colleague and friend, who also happened to be quite handsome (in your boyfriend's words), you couldn't help but agree.
and satoru definitely underestimated kento's appearance with that measly description. he's more than quite handsome — he's gorgeous, with those well-kempt blonde locks and that ridiculously sharp jawline that could probably cut glass.
...let's just say you're not having any last minute regrets about agreeing to this.
"so, how about you go and make yourself comfortable in the living room while i put these in some water?" you suggest kindly, gesturing to doorway on the left as you head in the direction of the kitchen with the bouquet in your hands.
nanami nods in agreement, ducking his head to fit underneath the doorframe as he saunters into the living room of your apartment. it's cozy and small, with little trinkets that just scream satoru gojo scattered around the area.
of course that man has to make even his living room as chaotic as he is.
he plops down onto the couch, his still somewhat tense body sinking into the comfortable material. he feels more relaxed already than he has in months — it must be something to do with the warm atmosphere in your home (or the promise of what's to come.)
his respite doesn't last for long, however, because satoru comes bounding down the stairs, his blindfold askew and his grin wide when he notices nanami sitting there in his living room. "heyyy, nanamin! you're actually here! i figured you'd chicken out last minute, honestly."
the blonde man rolls his eyes behind his goggles, shooting his colleague a thoroughly unimpressed look in response to his statement; as if he hadn't just been considering 'chickening out', as gojo put it, moments ago outside the front door.
but he doesn't have to know that.
"well, i didn't." he settles for sighing bluntly, raising a neatly trimmed eyebrow when satoru drapes himself across the couch next to him like an oversized cat, practically taking up every inch of spare space.
"what's that look for?" satoru snickers obnoxiously, slinging his lanky legs over nanami's lap as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "this is my house you're in right now, remember? i can do what i want."
before nanami can even think of replying, you start padding into the room, shooting your boyfriend what can only be described as a disapproving look. "toru, stop harassing our guest."
the white-haired man lets out a petulant whine in response, grasping your hips as soon as you draw close enough and pulling you down onto his lap. he buries his face in your neck, grumbling. "i'm not harassing him, baby! it's just our usual banter. riiight, nanamin?"
"right." he chuckles lightly, exchanging an amused glance with you over satoru's head at the other man's antics. he's more like a young, whiny child than a full grown adult; especially when he acts like this.
"hey, stop smiling at him!" satoru huffs overdramatically in protest, looking up at you from your neck with one of his bright blue eyes peeking out from under his blindfold. "you're supposed to be on my side, pretty girl."
"i am on your side, silly," you say with fond exasperation, bringing a hand up to ruffle his messy white locks affectionately. "are you seriously mad at me for getting along with your friend?"
"no, i guess not." he grumbles in response, nuzzling his face back into your skin like a beloved pet would do to its owner.
nanami can't help but find it fascinating how the strongest sorcerer and most popular teacher at jujutsu tech seems to completely melt in your presence — there must be something really special about you, and he feels honoured to be allowed to have you for himself; even if only for one night.
"so— uh, how does this... work?" the blonde man asks curiously after clearing his throat, looking between you and the manchild snuggling you in his lap with a carefully questioning gaze.
satoru giggles at this, turning his head to give nanami an obnoxiously teasing wink. "how does me letting you hit this..." he drawls playfully, his hand traveling down from your hip to lightly squeeze your ass. "...work, nanamin?"
nanami almost chokes on his own salvia in response to his colleague's blunt wording, but somehow he manages to compose himself (just). "...yes, i suppose. if you insist on being so lewd about it."
you let out a small chuckle at this, swatting your boyfriend's hand away from your ass and giving him a chiding look, to which he just shrugs innocently.
"i think it should be up to you, kento," you hum thoughtfully, resting your chin on satoru's head and peering over at the blonde man with an encouraging smile. "how would you like this to work?"
"ah, well..." nanami begins, finding his brain seems to have short-circuited at your suggestion. he gets to choose how he has you? jesus, how is even supposed to form a single coherent sentence with you smiling at him like that?
"oh, come onn, nanamin!" satoru whines, raising one of his legs from the other man's lap to kick at his chest with one of his socked feet. "want me to give you some ideas? hmm... how about you start with her perfect little mouth? it works wonders, y'know!"
nanami lets a choked sound escape from somewhere in the back of his throat at this, his wide eyes shooting to you for any signs of hesitance. but he finds none, no — you're still smiling at him in such a friendly way, as if your boyfriend isn't signing you up to suck another man off right in front of him.
"is that— can i... are you sure?" he stammers awkwardly, suddenly feeling like an inexperienced teenager rather than a fully grown man.
"it's fine with me," you say sweetly, each word so thick and honeyed, making nanami's head start to go a little hazy. he can already feel his trousers starting to grow uncomfortably tight just from the direction this conversation is going in. "would you like that, kento?"
"would i—" nanami swallows thickly, stopping his words before they can come out sounding too eager. "yes... yes, i believe i would."
satoru grins widely at his co-worker's admission, effortlessly lifting you up from his lap and placing you on the floor in front of the couch. you crawl the rest of the way across the carpet, coming to perch between nanami's manspread legs.
the blonde man audibly gulps when you bring your hands up to his thighs, shifting just a little on the chair to try and hide how much his body is reacting to your proximity.
"phewww... look at him, baby," satoru whistles amusedly with a mischievous smirk as he watches the interaction, obnoxiously pointing to the growing tent in nanami's slacks. "so worked up already."
you tut lightly, shooting another disapproving look in your boyfriend's direction. "stop teasing him, toru. he's probably just touch-starved."
"something you wouldn't understand, gojo," nanami pushes out through gritted teeth, trying his best to keep up his usual collected demeanour even when he feels your fingers graze over his bulge. "not when you have such a sweet little thing waiting for you at home everyday."
"hm. now that is true," the white-haired man hums in agreement, reaching over nanami's lap to give your hair a gentle, loving stroke. "my girl always knows how to keep me satisfied."
you smile warmly up at satoru, leaning your head into his touch slightly while your hand squeezes around his colleague's clothed erection — and, shit. you can tell just how big he is even through these tight trousers.
you've really got your work cut out for you here.
satoru is quick to help you out, grasping a cushion from the couch and leaning down to slide it underneath your knees to make the position more comfortable for you. ugh, your boyfriend is just so considerate— but tonight isn't about him. focus!
with better support on the floor, you reach up to pop open the button on the front of nanami's slacks, looking up at him through your lashes; and, god, he looks absolutely wrecked already. his cheeks are flushed a light shade of pink, and his goggle-clad eyes are staring anywhere but you.
despite how stoic he always was in satoru's descriptions of him, right now... kento nanami looks utterly adorable.
unzipping his fly, the only barrier between you and his monster of an aching cock is his expensive-looking boxers. and while at this point with satoru you'd usually do a little teasing, you figure with nanami, it's better to cut straight to the chase.
he clearly needs it.
so you dip your nails under the waistband of his underwear, carefully tugging it down to reveal your boyfriend's colleague in all of his touch-starved glory; cock just giant as it slaps against his clothed abdomen, all veiny and curved as the reddened tip leaks onto the couch.
"woww, nanamin!" satoru croons obnoxiously, fanning himself with his hand as if he's a prim and proper lady about to collapse from shock. "how big you are."
"do you really have to be here for this?" the blonde man retorts, shooting a glare so deadly in his friend's direction that if looks could kill... your boyfriend definitely would be six feet under.
"oh, absolutely," he drawls back without missing a beat, smirking smugly as he crosses his legs against nanami's lap, as if watching his girlfriend prepare to give his co-worker a blowjob is the most normal situation possible. "i'll be here the whooole time. better get used to it."
rolling your eyes at satoru's relentless teasing, you opt to distract nanami from the white-haired sorcerer's interjections by wrapping a hand around his bare length (let it be noted that you definitely cannot fit his entire girthy base in your grip.)
nanami lets out a raspy, broken groan at the contact, squeezing his eyes tightly shut as he tries to keep himself together. but the way his cock visibly jumps under your touch doesn't go unnoticed by you or satoru.
"relax for me, kento," you coo sweetly, giving him a light squeeze to make sure he's paying attention to your words. "gonna make you feel good, yeah?"
he can only release a few incoherent mumbles in response, his head falling back against the couch when you start to languidly stroke him, moving your hand from tip to base with well-practised movements.
"fuck, that's so hot," satoru groans as he shifts a little closer to get a better view of you working his uptight colleague with your fist, his own sweatpants starting to visibly tent too. "keep going, pretty girl."
you smile again at the praise, your thighs rubbing together subtly underneath satoru's baggy shirt. but he notices it, because of course he does, he knows your body's reactions like the back of his hand. "see that, nanamin? she loves it when you praise her. i hope you're taking mental notes right now."
nanami can only watch in awe as you lean down to press your soft lips to the leaking tip of his cock, his brain completely scrambled already from only a few touches. jesus, he can't believe he almost didn't agree to take part in this; he’s silently thanking his past self for having the confidence to go through with it right now.
"that's... you're doing good— so good." he pushes out, the words more of a garbled mess than anything as his toned hips involuntarily buck lightly into your hand, in search of more and more friction.
a small, satisfied hum spills from your lips at the praise, your tongue instinctively flicking out to lap at the pearlescent rivulets of pre-cum just streaming from his pudgy tip.
it’s not as sweet as satoru’s — it has a bit more of a salty tang. but it’s not exactly unpleasant either, and you find yourself digging the tip of your tongue into his slit to gather more of the interesting new flavour.
"ah!" nanami gasps loudly, the sound escaping from him without permission. his eyes fly open to fall squarely on you as you start suckling on his tip, finding himself being rendered completely speechless at the way you’re making him feel already — and you’ve only just started.
he’s in for a long night.
“yeahh, she’s good, isn’t she?” satoru croons proudly from beside him, reminding nanami of his presence yet again. but he can’t bring himself to be too mad at his colleague when he’s giving him access to his perfect girlfriend with such a sweet mouth.
“mhm,” the blonde man grunts out, his head rolling to the side slightly. he quickly shuts his eyes, not wanting to catch sight of satoru while he’s receiving such intense pleasure; the last thing he wants is to ruin his upcoming orgasm. “you’re a lu— ah, a lucky man.”
“oh, i know i am,” satoru hums smugly, his hand still resting on your hair giving you a gentle push in a silent encouragement to move your head forward. “come on, baby. i know you can take more of him than that.”
with the help of your boyfriend’s guiding hand, you find yourself sinking more of nanami’s thick cock into your mouth, inch by girthy inch until your nose bumps against the small patch of trimmed blonde hair at the bottom of his abdomen.
“oh, fuuuck…” nanami groans roughly, gripping the fabric of the couch so hard his knuckles are whitening as he tries to hold himself back from just fucking into your mouth like a feral animal.
“it’s okay if you want be rough, nanamin,” the white-haired sorcerer murmurs against the shell of his ear, as if directly reading his thoughts. “she doesn’t mind. she’s your stress relief, remember?”
like the gentleman he is, nanami makes sure to make eye contact with you to check for any signs of hesitance first. but when he doesn’t find any; he just can’t hold himself back from thrusting his hips up into the wet cavern of your mouth.
you try your absolute best to kneel there and take it, but you simply can’t help the way you choke around his sheer length when his tip hits the back of your throat with a lewd thwack!, causing both he and satoru to moan in response.
“yeahhh, you look so pretty choking on nanamin’s cock, babygirl.” satoru groans proudly, trailing his spare hand down to leisurely palm the bulge in his own pants as he observes the scene before him.
your boyfriend’s praise makes you audibly mewl around the blonde man’s cock, the vibrations around his shaft making nanami slap satoru’s hand out of your hair to grab it himself, keeping you in place as he continues rutting into your mouth with reckless abandon.
“just like that, just like that.” nanami chants over and over like a mantra, starting to completely forget about any and all stress he has as he loses himself to the overwhelming pleasure you’re giving him.
“you’re close, aren’t you?” satoru chimes in with a satisfied smirk stretching across his lips as he leans in unnecessarily close to nanami’s ear to whisper. “don’t worry about pulling out, she’ll swallow it all.”
his colleague’s lewd words practically send nanami hurtling over the edge, his grip on your hair tightening to a borderline painful degree as he spills rope after rope of hot, thick cum straight down your throat.
it takes a few deep gulps for you to swallow everything nanami gave you, but there’s just so much of it that a few stray drops spill from the edges of your lips and onto the carpet. shit — you’ll have to clean that up later.
“thaat’s it. such a good girl,” satoru purrs warmly, his eyes alight with affection as he reaches down to stroke your cheek with his thumb, enjoying the dazed expression across your pretty features. “i think you broke nanamin, though.”
looking up at nanami, you can instantly see the visual evidence of what your boyfriend means by you breaking nanami.
the blonde man looks completely debauched — chest rapidly rising and falling as he pants harshly in an attempt to come down from the intensity of his orgasm and eyes squeezed shut so tightly it would appear that he's in some sort of pain if you didn't know better.
"you alright there, kento?" you ask half-teasingly, tapping his thigh gently to try and gain his attention. (it doesn't work; he's clearly out of it.)
satoru is grinning like a madman beside him on the couch, clearly more than pleased with how well his girlfriend is doing unravelling his uptight co-worker so far. "aww, what a shame! he's chickening out before he can even get a feel of your tight little pussy."
you huff, lean up to swat at the white-haired sorcerer's arm in an attempt to get him to shut up, which only causes him to scoop you up in his arms again and place a big wet kiss on your lips in retaliation, seemingly uncaring of the lingering tase of nanami on them.
giggling, you attempt to wriggle out of his grip, which accidentally causes your ass to brush against nanami's still half-hard cock as a result; and that seems to snap him right out of his reverie.
nanami's entire body jolts to attention, a low groan leaving his lips as he glances down at where you're unintentionally pressed against him. and, god, if your mouth made him cum that hard that he forgot where he was for a few moments, just how much better must your pussy be?
"finally back with us, hmm?" satoru drawls playfully, reaching around you to punch his colleague's shoulder a little harder than necessary, causing the blonde man to scowl in response.
"quiet, gojo." he mutters under his breath, unable to tear his eyes away from the slip of your panties he can just about see from underneath the hem of your baggy shirt.
oh, what he'd give for just one little taste right now...
"don't even think about it," satoru cuts in, snapping him from his thoughts. oh dear, did he say that out loud? he really does need to get control of himself. "if you taste her you'll get addicted, and we can't have that."
nanami can't help but feel slightly disappointed at this — he's always been the type to return the favour, and not being able to do the same for you makes a subtle frown tug at his lips.
but he knows that he has no right to ask for anything more than what he's being offered, seeing as you're not his. (and it's not like he can complain if he gets to be inside that pretty pussy that's been on his mind since satoru showed him his lockscreen last week.)
"are you just gonna sit there, nanamin?" satoru chuckles in teasing disapproval, shaking his head and lifting up the hem of your (his) baggy shirt to reveal the considerable wet spot painting the crotch of your panties. "or are you gonna hurry up and take care of my girl? you knoow, it's bad manners to leave a lady waiting while she's this needy."
"ahem. my apologies, darling," nanami mutters hoarsely, using every ounce of self-control he has left to forcefully tear his eyes away from your underwear and meet your eyes. he gestures to his lap, giving you the strongest smile he can muster right now. "would you like to take a seat?"
"still so well-mannered." you giggle lightly, although you oblige without question, crawling away from satoru to perch yourself upon nanami's wide thighs. he instinctively reaches out to grasp your hips with two large hands, keeping you steady.
"so... can i—?" nanami mutters quietly to satoru, as if sharing a well-kept secret, and not as if he's asking for permission to touch another man's girlfriend's cunt. jesus, is he out of his comfort zone right now.
"can you touch her? yes, yes, of course," the white-haired sorcerer replies quickly with a dismissive wave of his hand, as if eager to get this underway already so he can sit back and enjoy the show. "oh, and you have to make her cum on your fingers atleast once before you can fuck her. house rules."
nanami isn't complaining about this rule.
he owes you an orgasm anyway, but when he slides your soiled panties to the side and gets an eyeful of your pretty pussy, he feels as if it would be a crime not to put his fingers inside of you.
ever the gentleman, nanami looks up at you from behind his lopsided goggles one more time to check for any signs of hesitation, and when he still doesn't find any, he slowly dips two thick fingers between your folds, caressing your slick flesh.
you release a small sigh at the touch, your eyelids fluttering as a wave of pleasure washes over you. he's careful and gentle with his ministrations; since he obviously isn't familiar with what you like.
but you can tell he's the type to be a quick learner.
it isn't long before nanami has you squirming and whining on his lap, the two fingers he eased inside of your dripping entrance scissoring and exploring your sloppy hole, spreading you open bit by bit.
"mmm, you like that, pretty girl?" satoru asks raspily from behind you, lazily palming his clothed erection again as he observes your reactions to his colleague's touch. "is he making you feel good?"
"y-yeahhh." is all you can get out in your daze, your back arching forwards in an unconscious action when nanami's thumb finds your swollen clit, lightly pressing the rough pad of it down on the puffy bud.
satoru leans back in so his chin is almost resting on nanami's shoulder, his warm, laboured breaths caressing the lobe of the other man's ear. "her favourite thing is when you rub lil' circles on her clit." he whispers, voice low and teasing.
against his will, a shiver ripples down nanami's spine in response to satoru's words, and he finds himself following them like they were a command, his thumb sloppily circling your pretty clit and emitting a soft gasp from your parted lips.
"c-close, kento." you mutter breathlessly, your hips beginning to grind down onto his fingers in search of more friction. satoru is quick to assist, abandoning palming himself and wrapping his an arm around your waist to help you bounce on the other man's digits more smoothly.
"thank you, thank you!" you cry out to your boyfriend, turning your head to meet his lips in an uncoordinated, messy kiss inches from nanami's face. the blonde man finds his fingers unconsciously speeding up as he observes the interaction, fucking you on them hard and fast.
within moments, you're coming undone.
a soundless cry falls from your lips as your body falls limp between the two men, your cunt clenching and unclenching around nanami's fingers in search of something to milk.
"god. she looks even more beautiful when she cums... i-i need to feel her. can i feel her, satoru?" comes nanami's broken voice from somewhere nearby, your blissed out state making your vision swim and your hearing fuzzy.
"woow. called me by my first name and everything!" that's satoru, obviously. he sounds overwhelmingly smug. "if i knew my girlfriend would get you this pussydrunk, i'd have let you have a turn with her ages ago."
their bickering becomes background noise as you bathe in the afterglow of your orgasm, but you vaguely register your baggy shirt being removed and your body being repositioned so you're splayed across the couch on your back.
"darling? do you need a moment or can i..." it's nanami's voice again. you manage to blink one eye open to find him hunched over you, burly arms either side of your head and his blonde tresses sticking to his forehead with sweat. casting your vision down, you can see his cock, flushed and angry with precum dripping from the tip once again, hovering just above your entrance.
"please." you mewl, the word slurred from lingering pleasure as you weakly grind your hips up into his erection, causing him to release a groan from deep in his throat.
"go ahead. give my girl what she wants," satoru grunts from somewhere behind nanami, the slick sounds filling the air indicating that he's finally released his cock from the confines of his sweatpants and started jerking himself off. "and you better give it to her good."
"i will," nanami mutters as he slowly but surely, pushes his monster of a cock past that first tight ring of muscle that is your entrance. "f-fuck— i will."
"i think that's the — ah — first time i've ever head you curse, nanamin." the white-haired man remarks playfully, his hips bucking up into his closed fist as he watches his colleague prepare to fuck his girlfriend. damn, this is even hotter than he expected.
"don't get used to it." he grunts in response, his arms visibly shaking above you as he tries to hold himself back from just slamming all the way into you. but no, he's still a gentleman; even now. he'll start slowly, atleast.
it takes a few long moments for nanami to push all of his ridiculously thick inches into you, and when he finally bottoms out, his heavy balls flush against your ass, both of you moan. he's stretching you out so good, just as much (if not more so) than satoru does.
the blonde man, to his credit, does manage to give you a while to adjust to the new intrusion filling you up, but it isn't long before he snaps, the animalistic side of him coming out as he begins rutting his hips into you like it's his last day on earth.
"a-ah! fuck, kento!" you cry breathlessly, your legs quickly locking around his waist for some type of support as he continues to use you like his own person cocksleeve, the couch rocking back and forth with the suddenly ruthless movements.
"uh huhh," satoru croons as he works his own cock faster, his blindfold discarded somewhere nearby so he can get the clearest view of nanami pounding his girlfriend into the couch. "use her to get rid of all that pesky stress."
"sorry, sweetheart — shit, sorry," nanami pants above you, his body seemingly having a mind of its own as he continues to drive his cock in and out of you, barely giving you a moment to breathe in between the rough thrusts. "can't stop."
you'd tell him it was okay, that it feels good, but right now you can't form a single coherent thought. you're completely and utterly cockdrunk, and there isn't even a doubt about it.
"hey — mmm — she really likes it when you play with her tits while you're fuckin' her." satoru adds helpfully, causing nanami to growl out something akin to thanks in response.
suddenly, a large hand is palming one of your bouncing breasts, squeezing and kneading the supple flesh and making you clench tightly around the cock inside of you.
nanami curses yet again under his breath, his eyes visibly rolling back in his head behind the fogged up lenses of his goggles. "so tight, darling. practically squeezing around me like a v-vice."
at his words, a broken moan gets ripped from your throat, your ankles digging into the muscles of his lower back in an attempt to pull him in even deeper. all you seem to be able to say is "more, more, more."
"that— ngh, that means she's close," satoru gasps out, his cock twitching beneath his fist as he continues to jerk himself off like there's no tomorrow. "rub... rub her clit like y'did earlier again."
instantly complying to the other man's command, two of nanami's thick fingers find your puffy little bud again, rubbing uncoordinated circles as he continues to pound into you like an animal in heat. jesus, he can't even remember what he was stressed about anymore.
"o-oh, shit!" you almost scream, the stimulation on your sensitive bud and the repeated slams of nanami's pudgy cockhead against your g spot driving you half-insane with pleasure. you can feel an all-too-familiar coil start to spool in the depths of your stomach, threatening to unravel at any given moment.
"yeah, that's it, baby," satoru praises breathlessly, his own orgasm approaching as he continues grinding into his fist like a desperate virgin. "cum all over nanamin's cock for me."
the dual sensations of your boyfriend's words and the thrusting of nanami's sinful hips has you spiralling uncontrollably over the edge, your second high of the night somehow even more intense than the first. you barely even have time to register the liquid just spraying from your cunt and soaking nanami's heavy balls where they're slapping against your ass with a lewd thwack! each time.
"god, so perfect, can't last—" nanami rambles in a very pussydrunk manner, his movements suddenly growing considerably more uncoordinated and sloppy as he struggles to find the strength to hold himself up. "gojo, where can i...?"
"not inside," satoru responds firmly, his voice the most coherent it's been since he started jerking himself off. it's clear there's no room for argument on this one. "that's for me only."
nodding shakily, nanami manages to pull his throbbing cock out just in a nick of time, rope after rope of his goopy cum splattering across the supple skin of your stomach, the stream going on for so long it seems like it'll never stop.
somewhere behind the blonde man, a low, raspy groan is the tell-tale sign that satoru has just finished too, probably coating his own hand with his sticky release.
it's silent for a few blissful moments, all three of you just basking in the afterglow of your respective orgasms. but of course, satoru gojo is a man who can never stay quite for long, so he says—
"hey, maybe we should do a threesome next time."
"next time?" nanami chokes out weakly, barely managing to lift his head up to glance over at this colleague with two raised eyebrows.
"yeah, next time," satoru shrugs nonchalantly, as if the proposal was nothing short of normal. "i know i said i'd only let you do this once, but... sharing is caring, right?"
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© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.
LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!
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the-irreverend · 2 months ago
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I know others have already discussed it, but this moment right here where Optimus steps aside to let Megatron walk past just KILLS ME every time I watch it.
It's also a great way of showing how committed he is to the principles and ideals of freedom and autonomy, so much so that he lets Megatron leave ON HIS OWN VOLITION rather than using force or coercion to make him leave.
It really drives home how much he loves and cares for him because it shows that even after saying he's banished, Optimus still can't bear to force him to leave himself, even after all he's done to him.
It's a small moment, but it's one that's VERY IMPACTFUL, and it's one of many reasons this is the best romance movie of 2024.
Yes, I called this a romance movie.
No, I'm not gonna apologize.
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ubeb0nes · 23 days ago
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HCs of Sevika in Love ఌ
Congrats champ, you bagged a baddie!
**Reader is fem!
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It's not that Sevika has crazy high standards. Her wants in a partner are actually very straightforward; it's just that most people lack the base integrity and self-accountability to even catch her attention in the first place
I really don't think she'd ever fall for anyone from Piltover, there's just too many generations of trauma accompanied by a life lived under their foot for her to get past. She loves Zaun too much to ever love anything to do with Piltover
That said, she's attracted to the ideals she associates with the Undercity; perseverance, strength (doesn't have to mean physical), adaptability and loyalty. If you have her love, you most certainly earned it bae
For her, it's probably an "oh shit"/"oh no" type of singular moment, when she realizes she's fallen in love
Either you got hurt or in some position where her true feelings were forced out of her, OR it's during an achingly soft moment where it's clear how loyal/devoted you are to her, and only her.
Absolutely spends months denying herself. She will try to distance, reasoning that you're both better off without the notion of love walling you in.
Zaun is no place for that, she thinks. She recalls Felicia and her husband, dying together on that bridge while a twenty-something year-old Sevika, at the time, watched them fall.
The pain to know you couldn't save your loved one in your final moments (even worse to leave two young children behind). She couldn't imagine it. Didn't want to. Sevika knew that her road would end at a violent last stop, and she didn't want you anywhere near that. She thinks about having met you in a different place.
…But she can't fully hide how she feels about you, not ever. She may oftentimes be rough and ruthless, but even at her worst moment Sevika isn't a cold individual. She's too passionate about you, cares too deeply for where you are and how you are
So when you show up at her apartment to yell at her for being so cruel, for shutting you out of her heart instead of being a grown-ass woman and telling you what the fuck you did wrong, she lets you.
She lets you yell until you've tired yourself out, and then she pulls you into that embrace you missed so much. You hit her shoulder or her chest, weakly, because you love her like crazy and never wanna actually hurt her, and tell her to fuck off.
"I didn't wanna push you away, dumbass," she'll say to you, softly, as she presses a kiss to your ear, "You think I don't want you with me all the time? To tell you I love you and shit without it coming back to bite us in the ass? Of course I do. Of course I do. I just… I don't know how. But I'm gonna fuckin' learn, doll. I promise."
"You… you love me? Really?" "Doll, I don't even let Silco talk to me like that." "You asshole-!"
You're mad, but not really. How can you be? You two will make this work, she already gave you her word.
It's more likely for you to move in with her than vice versa. She lets you go ham on adding your personality to her living space, she doesn't have any strong preferences besides cleanliness
Always says I love you before she goes to work. Just in case. If you mess with her and don't say it back, she will get up in arms about it within two seconds of silence
"I could die, you know." "Babe, I'm just joking!" "Do you see me laughing??"
Obviously, lets her drama queen side show more. She's just all-around looser once she confesses.
She makes sure you know how different you are from others, how special you are. Even her posture is different the moment you're within arm's reach
Body language and physicality are Sevika's main fluency. When in love, you notice the way she angles her body protectively around yours in public, or how she always urges you to link your arm with hers when you walk.
You notice that she almost looks… smaller at home. You realize this is on purpose. She makes herself less intimidating when it's just you, lowering herself to your level and opening her posture to you
At home, she likes kneeling by your side when you're sitting on the couch, checking you over or pressing slow kisses to your hands.
Devoted, devoted, devoted. She never wants you to forget.
Every time you call her name, she always stops what she's doing to give you her attention.
"Sevi?" "Yes, baby?" Every time. It's grounding for you both, in a way
Her henchmen become your henchmen. They know better than to say no to your requests for their help. (Ran is down for antics with you regardless!!)
People all over the Undercity start to recognize you as "Sevika's woman". Not her "girl", you garner too much respect for that
You are the only person Sevika answers to besides Silco. Her close circle teases her that you turn her into a little lovestruck puppy
It's really only them who are even capable of teasing her about this, because her changes in behavior are so minute but so important
She puts out her cigarillos when you sit down with her. She always shifts you over to her left side (the side most capable of protecting you). Her eyes start scanning the room more frequently than before you'd arrived.
She figures out over time that she was wrong. When she holds you against her while you sleep, and you grab her hand half-consciously to press kisses to her wrist, she knows you don't make her weak
When you whisper that you love her against her neck while you sway in the kitchen, moving to whatever music vibrates from the depths of her beloved city, she knows you don't make her weak
When you pull her back together without fail, remind her that she is more than just a grunt in a revolution, a soldier that can be replaced, she knows you don't make her weak
There isn't anything she wouldn't do to get back to you. She has to live long enough to know what a good life in a liberated Zaun looks like with you
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anonymityisfunwriter · 9 months ago
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Every Part of You
Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader A.N. - Alright, I've been asked to write about Bucky and Sunshine's first time many, many times. And the thing is, like sure, I could write that, but also I want us to take a moment to consider trying to build up to that. There's so many firsts buried in there that I think need to be navigated through before they even get there. This is one of those firsts. Like the first time you see Bucky's shoulder.
Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Grumpy Sunshine Series
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"You're just- " You stop speaking, searching for his lips again. Though you're breathless, you can't bring yourself to pull away from him, "You're so pretty."
You shudder as you feel his hand slip under your sweater. The occasional graze of the cool metal on your skin enough to send shivers down your spine.
His lips trail down, nipping at your jaw, "I'm not pretty."
Your hands, winded in the hair at the nape of his neck, glide down his neck, to clutch the fabric of his henley. The moment he feels your fingers toy with the collar of his shirt, his heart hammers against his ribcage. Not in the sort of way that he usually feels in these moments with you. He feels a sense of dread, of panic. It wraps around his spine like a python. It feels like he can't breathe.
"You're so -"
He wrenches away from you, his chest heaving, "Stop, stop, stop."
You freeze, immediately dropping your hands. Panic starts creeping up your throat, coating your words. "Did I - did I do something wrong?"
He gulps, silently shaking his head. It takes him a moment to regain his composure, to regain the ability to speak clearly, "No, no, you're - you're perfect."
Guilt starts to eat at him. He can see you doing your very best to keep your own feelings off your face. He can see the sting of his rejection in the way your lips press together in a tight line. The embarrassment in the pallor of your once flushed cheeks.
You two have worked so hard to overcome your own personal issues and traumas, to build trust in each other, moments like these hadn't come easy. And he so callously pushed you away, it makes him feel worse. And what makes his heart ache even more, he sees nothing but concern for him shining in your eyes. You just look so worried for him.
Your hands rest in your lap. You twist and untwist your fingers. "If you don't want to, we don't - we don't have to do anything. I'm really sorry -"
"No, no, please don't be sorry." He reaches for you, gently squeezing your hand. It soothes him as much as it does you. "I want to. You don't know how much I want to."
"But?"
His eyes squeeze shut. He can't bring himself to meet your eyes. "You haven't seen it before - my arm, my shoulder."
"Oh."
He drops your hand. That feeling takes over him again. It feels like there's not enough air in the room. He slides away from you, closer to the edge of the tiny couch in your apartment. "It's - I am not pretty."
It breaks your heart, watching him pull away from you. You can only imagine how many people have turned away from him before. "James..."
He fervently shakes his head, refusing to open his eyes, "No, no, I know what you're gonna say, but it's bad. A lot worse than you're thinking."
"How do you know what I'm thinking?"
"It's bad," he insists. "I see it every day and I can barely - it's just bad, okay?"
You take his hand, squeezing it tightly. "It's okay if you don't want me to see it. I understand."
He finally opens his eyes again as his eyebrows pull together. He still doesn't meet your eye. "No, no, I want to - I trust you with this, I do. I just - I want you to be prepared."
In that moment, you realize that it's not really about preparing you. Not at all.
He thinks you're going to react badly. He thinks that this will make you turn away from him for the first time ever. He's worried that the love and adoration in your eyes will turn to disgust and repulsion.
It's less about preparing you for the scarred flesh, and more about warning you that he couldn't take a bad reaction. He's not sure he could take it if you turned away from him too.
"I love you," you promise him. "There's nothing that you could show me that would change that. I hope you know that."
There is no response to that. And you know that he won't believe it until he sees it. It takes him a moment. His hand toys with the hem of his shirt. His hand grips the hem, only to let it go.
"I love you," you remind him.
He takes a large gulp of air, pulling off his shirt with one quick movement.
You weren't really sure what you were expecting. You knew the story. You knew how Bucky lost his arm. He even confided the bits and pieces he remembered from getting his vibranium arm.
Your eyes trail over his skin. The shoulder is scarred, scars jut in every direction. Each scar is etched into his skin. It's clear it was a painful, violent experience for him. The metal plate protrudes from the scar tissue in a way that you're sure was painful when first placed. You look on with curiosity, you're not really sure how this, a sign of survival, a badge of resilience, could ever make anyone turn away from him.
He's as breathtaking as you could ever imagine.
Your eyes flicker up at him. He looks at the blank wall of your apartment, scared to watch your facial expressions as you take it in. "Can I?"
He nods, barely able to look you in the eyes. He sucks in a breath when your fingers make contact with the scar tissue surrounding the metal plate.
You immediately pull your fingers back, worried you've accidentally hurt him. "Does it hurt?"
"No," he answers reflexively.
You know he's lying. "I've seen you holding your shoulder before - holding it like it hurts."
"Sometimes," he amends. "The doctor said there's a lot of nerve damage. Things they can't fix."
"Does it hurt now?"
"No."
You run your hand over the plate, over his scars, down to his shoulder blade.
"Still think I'm pretty?" he sarcastically remarks.
You press a gentle kiss to his bare shoulder. "I'll always think you're pretty. Every part of you."
Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛
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thinkinonsense · 2 months ago
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Sweet Temptations.
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logan howlett x fem!reader
cw: fingering, oral (f receiving), innocence kink, inexperienced reader, darkish!logan
a/n: hi! sorry i've been gone so long! i have plenty of stuff in the works but for now here's this. i'm working on making a mini-series of dark!logan x inexperienced!reader so i hope everyone enjoys! <3
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to think, logan almost went out to the bar tonight. almost left to find a one night stand or come home and fuck his hand. tonight could've had so many different outcomes but luckily, he ended up with the best one.
there's a light knock on his bedroom door. he knew it had to have been you since everyone was on a field trip a couple hours away for the night. logan obviously wasn't interested in going and you were busy working on an experiment in the laboratory.
in all reality, logan just wanted an excuse to stay here alone with you overnight. ever since he joined the x-men and met you down in the lab in that cute white coat and pretty smile, he's had a crush on you.
"hi, logan." you smile softly when he opens his door.
"hey, dollface. you need something?" he asks, leaning against his door frame and eyeing that short little nightgown of yours.
"can we talk?"
"sure."
the two of you walk into logan's room and sit on the end of his bed. you sit up on your knees, facing him. he can tell that something is on your mind but you're unsure on if you should confide in him or not.
"is everything alright?" he asks, growing concerned.
you nod, chewing on your bottom lip.
"whatcha wanna talk about then, sweets?"
logan's large hand rubs your knee softly, almost coaxing the words out of you.
"would you do me a big favor?" you ask, avoiding his hazel gaze.
"of course."
there's slight hesitation. you were afraid of logan's reaction to your request. after a deep breath, you remind yourself that it's just logan. the same logan who trains with you every morning, the same logan who plays with your hair when he's bord, the same logan who praises you for all your hard work in the laboratory. there was nothing to be afraid of.
"c-can you take my virginity?"
the question almost killed logan. he thought he had died and gone to heaven. you finally look at him with a twinkle in your eyes and he feels the need to adjust the tent growing in his pants.
"where'd this idea come from, sweetheart?"
"well, i was seeing a guy a while ago who acted really weird when i told him i was still a virgin then when i told storm and jean, they told me that if i'm ready to do it, than it should be with someone i trust." you explain so innocently to him. "i just figured since you've always been so gentle with me and i trust you, i was kinda hoping you wouldn't mind."
never in his wildest dreams could logan have imagined this happening. you sitting pretty on his bed, practically begging him to take your virginity. god, logan couldn't even remember the last time he was with a virgin. must've been decades ago.
"that's real sweet, dollface. 'f course i'll do it." he says, watching your smile grow with excitement. "first i need to know what you've already done."
"i've kissed while sitting in someone's lap, given a hickey twice... maybe three times? some nights i'll rub myself against one of my pillows."
even though he knew the answer, he had to ask, "ever fingered yourself?"
"no." you shake your head, almost making logan moan at just the thought of being the first person to do that to you.
"want to try it?"
"s-sure but i thought we were gonna–"
"we will." logan assures. "need to get you loosened up first if you want me to fit inside of you."
a small gasp exists your lips, making him chuckle. logan leans in, testing the waters to see how you kiss. he's a bit shocked by how you pull him closer to deepen it. you moan into his mouth while your hands roam his hair. he sits you in his lap and lets you grind yourself on top of him, showing him what you know.
"let's see if you're nice and wet for me." logan hums, lifting up your nightgown and feeling the wet spot over your underwear. "very good, dollface."
without thinking, you let out a tiny moan next to his ear because of his praise. he can't help but pull your head from its hiding spot in his neck to look at you.
"you like when i tell you how good you're being for me?" he ask, watching your face contort as your hips keep moving. one of his hands rests on your waist, stopping you from moving. "c'mon, you can tell me."
"mhm..." you nod. "love when you praise me."
suddenly, your back is pressed flat against his sheets as he kisses all down your body. leaving little marks here and there until he reaches the waist band of your pretty pink underwear.
"did you wear these just for me, princess?" he asks, placing a kiss right over the cotton covering your button.
"y-you said i looked p-pretty in pink."
as the words stumble out of your mouth, logan feels a warmth spread across his heart. a couple months ago, you were wearing a new pink dress and as logan passed you by, he mentioned how pretty you looked in the color. it meant a lot to you.
"you still do." he says. "can i take these off of you, baby?"
you nod, lifting your hips a little to help him. logan tosses the pink cotton somewhere behind him. lifting up the nightgown to your tummy, eyes glued to the spot in between your legs.
"didn't think you could get any prettier." logan mumbles to himself.
his intense gaze made you feel a bit vulnerable, trying to close your legs but his large hands stop you.
"don't hide from me, princess." he says, capturing your attention. " 'm gonna make you feel good."
logan carefully drags his thumb through your slit, collecting the arousal and circling it around your button. the feather like touch sends your head back and whimpers to fall from your lips. gently, logan pushes his middle finger past your velvet walls, groaning once you clench around him.
"atta girl, princess." he smirks watching you swallow up his finger. "takin' it so good."
logan watches in awe as your head fall back and the arch in your back. slowly he inches his face closer and licks a thick stripe up your fold before sucking softly on your button. you feel logan muffle 'fuck' against you, only resulting in more arousal to spill out of you.
"o-oh, logan." you moan, hips chasing his tongue feverishly.
since this was your first time, logan went easy on you, not making you work for your orgasm. he feels your cunt clench down on his one finger as it hits deep inside of you until you are seeing stars. with logan's other free hand, he paws at your tit and rolls it in his palm.
"need m-more!" you whimper with glossy eyes and lips. "p-please, lo."
in an attempt to give you what you want, logan struggles to hit another finger inside of you. he wasn't sure what he did to deserve this type of heaven but god, was he thankful for it.
"i can't, sweetheart." he groans, kissing your hip bone as he speeds up the finger inside of you. "you're too tight for two of my fingers. there's no way i'll be able to fit inside of you tonight."
before you could whine in protest, this indescribable wave of euphoria washes over you. smooth silky legs wrap tightly around logan's head. thighs covers his ears, blocking out the sweet sounds you were making. logan goes back to sloppily making out with your cunt until you weakly pull him off and drag him up to your lips, tasting your own release on his tongue.
"thanks, lo." you smile in a daze at him.
"anytime." he says. "i think you'll need another lesson soon though if you want to take all of me. do you want that, princess?"
he could feel your heart rate increase eagerly. you blush intensely and avoid his gaze as you nod.
"alright." he chuckles darkly. "but first, you gotta show me how you get off on your pillow."
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ssunnysdream · 9 months ago
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big tits reader
🧷 NSFW (18+ minors dni), afab reader, reader has big tits, consensual sex, titfucking (sampo), nipple play (sunday, kaveh), nipple piercing (wriothesley), cuming on tits (wriothesley), they are basically all obssessed with you oops ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝<꒱ྀིა
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���‧˚꒰💌꒱༘⋆ 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄
"No matter how many times I fucked you, you're still as tight as ever baby... I love your pussy, could spend hours taking care of it" Aventurine's breath is hot, his hips stuttering as you clench around his lenght. "And don't get me started on your breasts..." he moves back from your neck to look down at your bouncing tits, flushed and covered with lovebites. "They're yours to use", you murmur softly as you know Aventurine is obssessed with them. "That's right, all mine." He eagerly grabs your legs, bending you in half, fucking you deeper and harder. He fondles your tits all the while fucking the shit out you, whispering the nastiest words into your ear.
–‧˚꒰💌꒱༘⋆ 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐎
"Here you go, you're doing such a nice job for Sampo. I will reward you well, you won't be disappointed", Sampo chuckles breathlessly as he stares down to watch you squeeze his cock between your tits. "You better keep that promise this time", you mumble before squeezing his lenght tighter, earning a surprised gasp from Sampo. Before he could reply something back, you slowly open your shiny lips and swallow his flushed tip, swirling your warm tongue over it to collect all of his salty precum. Sighing in pleasure, you suck the tip all the while working his cock up and down between your tits. Sampo hisses but he simply tightens his grip on your hair, encouraging you for more. And how could you refuse ?
–‧˚꒰💌꒱༘⋆ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘
"M-mh fuck... this feeling is delightful my dear", Sunday is struggling to keep his composure as you ride him into oblivion. What's even harder for him is to keep his cool from the sight of your tits bouncing up and down. The urge to grope, to pinch, to lick... Sunday can't stare away, those sinful thoughts leading him to attach his lips on one of your nipple as the other makes its way to grab your breast. The sudden sparks of pleasure is making you slow down, shivers running all over your body. You flush as Sunday stares up at you, "Dearest, why did you stop ? Keep riding me as I take care of your pretty nipples." You oblige, rising your hips up and down over Sunday's cock, his moans muffled as he keeps on nibbling your nipples desperately.
–‧˚꒰💌꒱༘⋆ 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇
"You're gonna be the death of me I swear", Kaveh takes a deep breath before wrapping his arms around you, bringing you closer to admire what you're offering him. Your breasts are covered with a lovely lacy bra, the fabric embracing your clevage and making it look perkier. Kaveh's cock twitches at the thought of gropping them as he fucks you nice and deep. You let out a tiny sob as he lazily traces some patterns over your bra with his skilled tongue, paying more attention to your nipples poking through the thin fabric. Kaveh looks out of it already, eyes filled with arousal and mouth slacked. You widen your legs, giving him more space as he pulls down your bra, your tits on full display for him. "I'm so hard for you baby, feel that ?" Kaveh grinds his covered cock against your pussy. "Got hard just looking at them", he groans as you roll your hips up against him, ready to make him cum just like this.
–‧˚꒰💌꒱༘⋆ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘
Pupils blowed with lust, Wriothesley can't hold back his grunts when all he can focus on his your nipple piercings. The cute jewels making your tits even more gorgeous. And to Wriothesley, it makes them sexier. "Look at you, you're loving this uh ?" he says lowly, twisting your pierced nipple and watching you squirm over his lap. His thick cock streching you open is overwhelming, but so is the constant tug on your perky nipples. "I'm gonna fuck you properly now. Be good for me and pinch them as I destroy that pretty pussy of yours". Your arousal is clearly messing Wriothesley's thighs but he doesn't seem to care as he keeps bouncing you up and down on his lenght, manhandling you like you weight nothing. It soon becomes too much, Wriothesley's cock twitches and he quickly pulls out and pumps his cock over your chest until hot cum spills all over you.
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© please do not repost and/or claim my posts as your own
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anyarose011 · 1 month ago
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Et tu, Brute?
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Pairing: Emperor Geta x Reader x Lucius
Summary: You went by many different names: "Rome's Delight", "The Woman with the Golden Mouth", "Geta's Favorite Whore", and "Julia". None of these were your true name; all used just to dehumanize you as nothing more than a slave. When the General Acacius returns from conquering Numidia, and you meet one of the slaves that was brought from the bloodshed, you hope to reclaim not just your freedom...but power along with it.
Part 1 of 2 (Masterlist)
Warning(s): Depictions of rape and SA [not shown], slavery, cannon typical violence, minor Stockholm Syndrome, major character deaths, historical inacuracy [but I tried my best to make it somewhat accurate] and Spoilers for Gladiator II
I saw this movie once, watched Game of Thrones at the same time, and cranked out a story where you, the reader, know how to play "The Game" (but also not because let's keep it kinda realistic) I'm gonna be honest, this might be a hot mess, and I used a script I found online (but Idk how accurate it is). Also, this first part is just mainly story based with the events of the film the SECOND part will focus on reader and Lucius' relationship (including smut, you sluts {I am also slut, don't worry}.
I do want to say though that the depictions of SA are in no attempt to romanticize them. I also decided not to write out the specific scenes because I myself am a survivor, and wanted to focus more on the protagonist's growth. The trauma still affects her story, but I do not want to write rape scenes merely for shock purposes.
Also, if you name is actually "Julia"...no it's not :)
Word Count: 16.1k
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It was your own fault, that was what they tried to make you believe.
How dare you not wish to participate in the public baths, how dare you desire to bathe in the place you felt most safe.
Foolish, foolish girl. You were not even safe on your own porch in the house you grew up in.
Your father hadn’t been the wealthiest of merchants, but before he passed into the Elysian Fields after his death that year, he had made a fortune; so much as to buy a bathtub for your house.
If anything, you had bathed at night when you believed no one could see you not for your own modesty, but to prevent anyone from stealing it.
Yet, one particular night, a man had spotted you.
The Emperor Geta of Rome had watched your naked form glisten in the moonlight as you washed the most intimate areas of your body; sighing at the feeling of being clean after the day, only for your soul to feel tainted once morning broken.
Guards had nearly broken the hinges off the front door to your house, and dragged you to the palace. You had lived in that house for your entire life, the same neighbors beside you, yet as you kicked and screamed…none helped.
You had grown tired once in the palace, and the eldest of the twin emperors stood before you. He cupped your chin.
“What is your name, girl?”
You answered him, attempting to speak with venom, but the quaking of your voice betrayed anxiety.
He hummed, repeating your name. “Why are you all alone?”
You huffed. “My mother died in the battle that is childbirth, and my father was lost to an ailment in his loins.”
“You have no brothers?” Geta questioned, his eyes running down your form. “No husband?”
“They called my father strange for leaving me his possessions.”
“He mustn’t have passed on so long ago.”
“Why does the death of my father concern you if you only seek my body?” You questioned.
A smile twisted upon his lips. “Perhaps I like to know my fruit before I devour it.”
And he kissed you.
You had been kissed before, but this was the first time you hadn’t wanted to be. You hadn't expected him to be serious about devouring you. His teeth sank into your chin, then your cheeks, until they were finally upon your lips.
It was the first time, in all your life, you felt your body grow cold and freeze despite his hands wandering over you, pulling at the thin fabric of clothing that covered you.
You fell to the floor, clinging to it desperately as he tried to lead you to his chambers. You had expected him to order one of his men to kill you, or have them carry you…
Instead, he took you right there. He simply lifted his own robes then yours and stole what wasn’t his to take.
All you remembered of that was counting how many pillars were in the room.
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You were one of his several concubines. Yet, despite being the newest, you were his favorite.
“Julia,” he whispered to you in the night a month after he had made you his. A month after he had decided to call you by his mother’s name instead of your own. “are you awake?”
You mewled, sitting up. “I am now, my love. What is it?”
Geta smiled, holding out a stack of parchment. “Look at what some of the men found in Carthago.”
You rubbed your eyes as the lamps in his room brightened before looking down at the crudely written words. Geta looked at you in earnest.
“Can you read them?”
A few days prior at him and his brother Caracalla’s birthday festivities, it was revealed that you spoke five languages: Latin, Phoenician, Aramaic, Hebrew, and Greek. Your father had taught you every single one of them to fend for yourself amongst all kind of people.
Now, it was nothing more than a shameless trick Geta used to his amusement.
“Rome’s Cleopatra,” he deemed you in front of the crowd. “the Woman with a Golden Mouth”.
Everyone in that room and all of Rome knew that your ability to speak so many dialects was not the only reason he gave you that title.
Still, as you lay in his bed with crumbling parchment in hands, you forced a tender smile. “Yes, I know what it says. Would you like to know?”
He laid his head in your lap without another word.
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Months passed, and he had grown kinder…only when it was night, and even so, that was only when the moon was full.
There wasn’t a day where your body hadn’t ached from the turmoil he put you through. It was hard to discern when he would want you to be small and subservient to him, or confident and commanding in matters of the bed.
The handmaids that were blessed to not be in bed with him would bathe and coddle you as best as they could, for even through your suffering, you tried your best to treat them with kindness.
You didn’t even know who you were after the fourth month of being Geta’s slave.
Gone was the girl who had a peaceful life; there was now the Emperor’s Pet.
General Marcus Acacius returned to Rome after overtaking the kingdom Numidia in the emperors’ names, and it was the first time you were in his presence. It was certainly a surprise that Geta would string you alongside him on personal matters that had nothing to do with sex.
The general would glance at you every so often, and his look of pity felt more violating that any of the times Geta, or his brother, or anyone else in all of Rome had looked at you.
Upon the general’s return, a series of games at the Colosseum were to be hosted, among parties that would last for the remaining week.
The first was at Senator Thraex's home.
“My little Julia,” Geta caressed your cheek as you sat upon his lap in the makeshift throne. “might you fetch me another cup of wine?”
You nodded, taking his cup and kissing his hair. “I shall, my love.”
He ran his fingers down your neck as you got off of him and made your way to the barrels. Yet, as you passed an open door, something caught your eye. Peeking around the somewhat crack in the door, you saw a few men sat in the room, chains around their ankles and their wrists.
One of them, more muscular than the others with brown curls, held his head low. His skin wasn’t as dark as other men from Africa Propria, but not as pale as the Germanic lands.
When his eyes met yours, you saw a pale blueness only seen in the sky on a summer’s day.
Gasping, you hid behind the door for only a moment before looking again. His gaze was still on you. Deciding to end the strangeness of the situation, you spoke.
“I’m sorry.” You apologized.
He said nothing; you tried again.
“I’m sorry.” You said in Greek.
The look in his eyes changed to confusion, but he said nothing.
“Hebrew?” You questioned. “Aramaic? Phoenician?”
“You speak Phoenician?” He asked as if he hadn’t heard it in forever.
You nodded. “I speak five languages.”
“Ah,” he answered in your native tongue to your surprise. “Rome’s Cleopatra.”
Your nose scrunched as if you smelt something rotten. “You understood me the first time?”
“I did.”
“So why not say anything?”
“What am I to say to your pity?”
You hummed. “I do not pity you, I was showing respect.”
He scoffed. “Respect? Am I a man that looks as if I deserve respect?”
“I believe every man deserves respect so as long he is kind.” You glared at him.
The man shook his head, sighing. “You are a foolish child if you believe that men can be kind.”
“I haven’t for quite a while.” you stated. “I pray that it is the hope that kills me.”
He questioned. “And not one of the emperors?”
“What is your name, slave?” You crossed your arms.
He huffed, drawing his eyes away from you and clenching his fists before relaxing them. “Hanno.”
You nodded. “They call me ‘Julia’.”
“But that is not your name.”
It was blistering hot that particular day, but you felt your body run cold; the same cold you felt when Geta…when he first…
“Who says it is not my name?” You challenged.
“You are merely a concubine,” he said. “you are not a part of his lineage, and therefore, your name is not ‘Julia’.”
You do not know why you seethed with so much rage from his words. You did not even spit on him; you merely stomped away from that door, filled up the emperor’s cup, and went back to Geta.
“It took you nearly a millennium to come back, my sweet.” He scoffed yet kissed your bare shoulder. “I was beginning to worry.”
You shook your head, leaning against him as you sat on the arm of the throne. “You mustn’t over me, my love.”
“You seem distressed.” Caracalla teased beside you. “This is a festivity; you should be merry!”
All you did was smile and nod. It was a pleasant change from the parties you were forced to attend in the past; you weren’t the center of attention, and this was the first time Geta dressed you in the bright colors everyone else wore instead of white.
You could pretend you were royalty for a day.
Not so long after you came back, both Thraex and Macrinus, a stable master who traveled far and wide for new gladiators, approached with their own champions to fight.
You were not even at the Colosseum, and yet, violence still had to be played for everyone’s amusement.
Hanno entered from the door you had previously been at, and another man entered from the opposite side of the room. Both were given swords.
“Brother,” Hanno began. “let us not kill each other for their amusement-.”
The other man struck him without hesitation. You had seen fights before, but none like this. It was ruthless, quick yet drawn out. Hanno lost his sword in the middle of it all, leading to him smashing a flowerpot over his opponent’s head.
The fight was still not done, he rose up on his feet and took his sword from the ground, raising it high above him. Hanno, against all odds, knocked him back onto the ground and took the sword just as they both sood, stabbing his opponent in the chest.
A chorus of cheers and groans echoed in the room. Geta arose from his seat, laughing and applauding as you sat there, eyes as wide as they could be at the bloodied sight before you.
“Remarkable! Gladiator, which part of the Empire do you hail from?” He questioned Hanno. Hanno stood stoically, glaring at the emperors before him. Geta tutted, turning to you. “Julia, open your golden mouth and-.”
“-The gates of hell are open night and day.” Hanno interrupted in the common language. “Smooth the descent, and easy is the way: But to return, and view the cheerful skies, in this the task and mighty labor lies.”
Geta smiled. “Ah…a poet!”
The rest of the world fell away as you could not tear your gaze away from the man laying on the floor. If he hadn’t died from his wounds, he would’ve from choking on his own blood.
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“-You understand, don’t you?” Geta asked.
You sat in your own personal chambers that night for the first time in a while. You were never overjoyed to be in his bed, but being sent to your own perplexed you.
Then, he simply told you that you were to be General Acacius’ for the night.
“He’s sacrificed so much, my little Julia.” Geta combed his fingers through your hair to soothe you. “I refused him once already; I cannot do so again. Do you understand?”
The emperor had never shared you with anyone. He wasn’t delicate with you, but at least you knew what to expect.
He clenched your jaw. “I do not care to ask you a third time, girl.”
“Yes,” you squeaked. “I understand, Geta.”
Nodding, he softened his hold, leaning his head against yours. “You are still mine alone; I promise, it will only be us after tonight.”
You swallowed thickly. “Okay.”
“There she is.” He kissed your lips before pulling away and standing. “He will be in right away. Do not fret, I told him to be gentle with you.”
Geta left through your chamber doors without another word. There you were, sitting on your bed, draped in silks you should have known were given to you out of lust and not out of kindness. Your eyes trailed to the empty vase on a table beside your bed.
You didn’t know what possessed you that night, but you yanked it off the table, and smashed it on your bed. The handle of the door began to rattle. Quickly pushing the shattered pieces under your bed, you hid a shard behind your back and sat at the head of the bed.
In came General Marcus Acacius, wearing only a thin overshirt that went down to his knees. You’d done this game of seduction many times with Geta, how different could it be for him? Grabbing the bottom of your night dress, you raised it until it bunched up your thighs, revealing your bare center to him.
He took a hitched breath. “My lady-.”
“-What troubles you, general?” You asked then smiled with gritted teeth. You felt your hand begin to ache as you squeezed the vase shard.
Marcus furrowed his brow, and as if he already knew, he said. “Cover yourself and show me what is behind your back.”
Your eyes dropped along with your heart. Still, as his face turned into a scowl, you cooperated. Handing him the shard and quickly pulling your dress back down, you spoke with intensity.
“If you will not stab me before you rape my corpse, then I shall throw myself from the nearest window and allow the people of Rome to defile me. I will not lie on my back and take it anymore.”
He took a deep breath, holding the sorry excuse for a weapon in his hand. “It is unwise to tell the enemy your plans.”
…What?
“It would serve you greatly to control the faces you make before harming a man as well. Yet, above all,” He held the shard out to you. “your enemy is not afraid to kill you; you should feel the same.”
“Why do you tell me this?” You asked, still not believing it.
Marcus sat up. “I believe we can help each other, my little dove.”
“How?”
He lowered his voice. “You have heard of the gladiator Maximus, his dream of a free Rome, yes?”
“Yes.”
“A dream that cannot be obtained from the rule of two emperors.” He lamented. “My wife and I, along with several others, plan…to fulfill our shared dream.”
They were going to overthrow Geta and Caracalla.
“What gives you reason to believe I won’t say a word of this to them?” You asked.
He smiled for the first time since you’d seen him. “That freedom belongs to you.”
“I…I’m still lost. How will I be of any use?”
“Emperor Geta favors you considerably. He is a man, and not a cunning one at that. There are ways to wear foolish men down.”
You nodded, beginning to understand. “There’s always a woman.”
“There’s always a woman.” He solidified. “Gain the trust of the public; make them love you, and they will not see the emperor’s whore but a woman of the people.”
“And how will that dethrone them?
He smiled. “My wife and I will meet with the counsel tomorrow night. I will send for you.”
You scoffed. “Geta said that after tonight I am just his alone.”
“Then I’ll refuse to give him Persia and India.”
“He’ll have your head.” You berated. “Besides, I don’t think he’d believe my cunt would be worth two countries.”
Marcus shrugged. “Considering he only wants you to himself, I have no doubt that it is worth that much. But I am unable to confirm it.”
You sighed. “Even if he’ll allow it, he’ll send a guard with me.”
“I am not one to invite a third into the bedroom.”
“Then where shall-?”
“-Little dove,” he interrupted. “the city was not built in a day, therefore it cannot be emancipated in one.”
Gods help and forgive you for being impatient on wanting to be free. Still, you composed yourself. “Alright.”
He nodded, standing up. “I will be seeing you on the morrow, one way or another.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“For what, child?”
You swallowed thickly, avoiding his gaze. “Not forcing yourself upon me.”
Marcus’ face softened, and he lowered himself to your height as you sat on the bed. He took your face into his hands, and you immediately tensed when his face drew closer to yours.
“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. “it’s not that kind of a kiss.”
With a tenderness that reminded you of your father, he placed his lips on your forehead and pulled away. Giving you one last knowing nod, he promptly left your chambers.
You wanted to do nothing more than shed tears of happiness, yet for no reason at all, you could not cry.
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Your father had only taken you to the Colosseum to watch mock animal hunting. Even when your friends invited you to watch gladiator fights or other public executions, he had found ways of making you stay far away from them.
There was a strange humor in sitting in the best chair for your very first gladiator duel. That being in the front as Emperor Geta ran his hand up and down your back.
In utter honestly, you tried to stray your attention away from the fights, speaking more with Caracalla of all people. He was more erratic than Geta by far, and it was more difficult to tell when he would be kind one moment, then out for blood the next.
Yet at least he was open about being cruel, unlike his brother.
When you would watch the fights…a familiar face seemed to catch both you and the general’s wife’s, Lucilla, eye.
The man with light skin yet hailed from Numidia…Hanno.
You hadn’t recognized him at first, for it wasn’t his mere presence that drew you to finally look at the event before you. No, it was the way he fought.
Most men previously had attacked with brute force; just stabbing the beast and hoping it would die. Hanno fought with wit. Simply using the sand beneath his feet as an advantage, blinding and tricking the rhinoceros to run directly into the wall.
He was cunning…he commanded the men beside him as if it weren’t the first time he’d done so in his life.
Then, when it came to deciding his fate when all seemed lost…Geta turned to you.
“My love,” he played with a strand of your hair. “shall I show the poet mercy, or bloodshed for your entertainment?”
Even if it weren’t Hanno, your answer would have been the same. “Mercy.”
As a hush fell over the crow, Geta rose his thumb up, sparing him. As cheers erupted, Hanno shook his head.
“No, no mercy.”
Geta furrowed his brow. “Gladiator, we have spared your life. No one refuses-.”
“-I would sooner face your blade than accept Roman mercy!”
Thus, the fight continued. An act of defiance…Peculiar…Quite peculiar.
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Both you and Marcus were correct about the night; Geta did indeed allow you to go to the general’s house, but only if you were escorted by a trusted guard. When you arrived, Marcus immediately draped you in a cloak, practically covering your face and had excused as not wanting the staff to tell his wife of who he was bringing into their house.
Marcus led you into his chambers, and there you saw two people. Apparently, they weren’t even apart of the counsel; simply paid to pretend to be both you and the general as the guard would listen outside, assume it was the two of you fucking.
He had certainly thought through every little detail.
Marcus pushed on a stone in his chambers, revealing a hidden door. You had only heard of these within stories, and as he led you down the darkened passage with only a torch in one hand, and the other holding yours, you had never felt more alive since your past life had been stolen.
You were welcomed to a room filled with dozens of the senate you had passed by in the palace. How strange it was to see them all huddled into a dimly lit room, plotting the demise of the men they initially swore to serve.
An arm looped through yours, and it was Lucilla. She whispered into your ear.
“Whatever you have to say, speak it to me, and I shall speak to them.”
You turned. “Why must I not speak for myself?”
“I only allowed you to be here if Marcus agreed to not let your voice be heard.”
“What?”
“I will explain more to you soon after, I vow it.”
Thus the meeting began. In all truthfulness, you were only able to understand the bare minimum: In a few days’ time, Marcus would lead five-thousand men into Rome to overtake the thrones of the empire, and thus destroy them, restoring the Roman Republic.
When the conversation turned to you, you were merely referred to as an informant who had the closest relationship to the emperor.
It still perplexed you as to why you needed to remain anonymous; there was an excellent chance they would know you as ‘Geta’s Favorite Whore’.
Yet, you did your best to inform the counsel of a plan you had simply created on the spot (they did not need to know the latter part of it).
You would gain more favor from the public, while at the same time, putting Geta’s worries to rest about any uprising or dislike from the majority of the empire.
How you would do that…it was fortunate that they didn’t ask you to give specifics.
Once the meeting ended, you were taken back up from the secret passage, yet instead of going back to the chambers, you felt Lucilla take your hand and lead you down another path.
You couldn’t even get a sound out before she said. “It is alright; he knows I want to speak with you in private. We will not take long.”
She led you up into the bath area of the house. It was quite beautiful; the tub wasn’t made of porphyry, but that did not make it any less exquisite. There was something about it being lesser of the baths you’ve had in the palace. It wasn’t entirely reminiscent of the one you had at home…
But you felt safer.
Lucilla had been gentle in pulling off your robes, and never once did it feel wrong. You were a woman and so was she. She never pulled or scratched your skin, and you knew that she only felt sorrow when she gazed upon the bruises and wounds you had received from Geta.
“How long have you been at the palace?” She questioned as she carded herbs through your hair.
You glanced at her, sighing. “I’ve stopped counting…months, I know.”
“Were you forced to leave any family? Brothers, sisters, children?”
“No. My mother died birthing me, and my father was taken half a year ago to an ailment emperor Caracalla also suffers from.”
She hummed. “Have you ever been in love?”
You laughed the most genuine laugh ever since you became a slave. “Why on earth would you ask that?!”
“I am merely curious!” She teased. “You are truly beautiful, and there is no doubt that men would throw themselves off cliffs for you; but it matters most of who you would choose.”
Her question scraped your mind. There had been times you were fond of, even lusted over, men both your age and older…but love? The only one you experienced would be storge; perhaps philia…but eros? Agape?
“I don’t think I have been.” You answered. “Have you?”
She nodded, a forlorn look in her eyes, but smile upon her mouth. “Twice.”
“Twice?” You couldn’t help the nervous giggle that left your throat. “It can happen twice?”
“It’s possible, yes.”
“And who have you willingly fell captive to?”
“Marcus is the most recent, though there are days I do not understand what he sees in me. Then…the father of my child.”
Lucilla poured water upon your head to wash out the soap in your hair, and a silence fell over both of you. One that was broken when you spoke a name.
“Lucius…”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“He-he had gone missing all those years ago, hadn’t he?”
“He had.” She ran the bar of soap over the top half of your body. “I believe he must’ve been around your age when he ran away.”
“And there hasn’t been any sign of him since?”
“No.” She answered right away.
You curled into yourself. “I apologize if I upset you my lady-.”
“-No. I…I love talking about him.”
You managed a gentle smile to soothe her. “What was he like?”
“Headstrong.” She chuckled. “Wanted to become a gladiator more than anything in the world. Yet, he was gentle, and kind as well. He…I believe he would’ve adored you.”
You shook your head. “Maybe when we were children, but I don’t think so now.”
“It’s hard to judge.”
Whilst the air between you turned into more intimate topics, the question that had weighed on your mind was brought to light. “Why did you not allow me to speak or show my face tonight?”
Lucilla stopped her ministrations. You looked up at her, and the look she wore bore an exhaustion that you had felt recently.
“I know too well the cruelties of men.” She began softly. “My brother had done everything to keep me from ever resisting him…he had done everything. I had only wished for someone to be there with me at every moment when I faced his abuse.”
Words; simple words that meant everything to you was what made you weep.
There was no warning at all. Once she was finished, tears sprang to your eyes, and you felt your sinus clog up. Even as you tried to tear yourself away from her comfort, she merely wrapped her arms around you in an embrace from a mother you had never felt.
“I don’t want to go back.” You begged. “Please don’t let me.”
She kissed your hair. “I’m so sorry.”
“No!” You sobbed. “I-I don’t want to! Please, please, you can’t make me. I-I-I-!”
Lucilla shushed you, rocking you back and forth. “Do not weep. You will be free beside all of Rome, and the past months of your life will be nothing more than a distant, horrible dream.”
You pulled away just enough to look at her. “You-you must promise me something.”
“My child-.”
“-Promise me and I shall help you overthrow them until my last dying breath!”
She stared for a moment before nodding. “Yes. What is it?”
Your lip quivered. “When I die, you must bind my legs with chains or ropes when you bury me. I have,” you whimpered. “I have been told of men who dig up the bodies of girls and…”
Lucilla kissed your forehead before holding you once more. “I vow I will honor your wishes.”
All you could do was believe her.
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There were more times than not the Emperor Geta would talk about filling you with his seed as he bedded you. You never were able to discern if he was serious about wanting to give you a child (they would be his, not yours).
It all became too real when you didn’t bleed that month.
Yet, you also did not feel sick in the morning, and your breasts hadn’t swelled. You still had urinated on wheat seeds for several weeks, but they had not sprouted.
You weren’t with child…yet there was nothing stopping you from convincing Rome you were. It would certainly be a risk; for there was no telling how Geta would react. But that was a risk you were willing to take.
Once a week, you were allowed to go outside the palace during the day, and you had chosen then to venture out into the numerous markets. It was nice to speak with the merchants you knew from your childhood. Some were elders who would watch over you when your father was busy, others were friends who had grown up with you.
“Now what would a little empress want with commoner’s food?” A man’s low timbre voice asked behind you.
Turning your head, you saw Macrinus standing before you with a curious grin. You mirrored it. “That’s not an appropriate title for me.”
“Ah, you are correct.” He nodded. “My apologies, ‘Lady with The Golden Mouth’. Or do you prefer ‘Rome’s Delight?’.”
“You may call me whatever you wish if you’d like.” You forced a laugh and turned back to the merchant you had known since you were a babe. “I’ll take a sack of wheat and small bag of garlic, Gaius.”
“Of course, lady Julia.”
Not even a childhood friend could say your real name. A tight smile formed upon your lips when he turned to sack the wheat before you. Macrinus spoke again.
“You still didn’t answer me about why you’re exactly here.”
“I am not an empress.” You turned to him. “I am not a queen from another realm, I am not even a lady. I am a lowly whore that was fortunate enough to be chosen by the emperor. I like to keep my own schedule from before, so I am aloud to bake my own bread.”
He hummed. “Is that so?”
“Yes.”
Gaius handed you the sack of wheat and garlic, and you held out three silver coins. He shook his head. “No, just a copper-.”
“-Please.” Was all you said.
He hesitated, then took them from you, smiling. “May Fortuna rain a thousand blessings upon your head.”
“And unto you as well.” You curtsied and turned on your heel to leave.
Macrinus walked beside you. “How generous you are.”
“I try to be.” You decided to change the topic. “You are in charge of Hanno, are you not?”
“I certainly am, why do you ask?”
“Just out of interest.” You shrugged. “There is talk of him being similar to the one Maximus from years ago. Many admire him already and it has only been a day.”
Macrinus laughed. “It is my duty to entertain the people. I noticed though that you are more prudish of the games.”
“I must admit, I am not used to the violence.”
“A sheltered girl?”
“Ashamedly so.”
“There is no shame at all. So, it is the Numidian that has captured your affection?” He teased. “How scandalous for the young empress to fall for a slave.”
You chuckled. “Nothing of the sort, I just find him amusing.”
“Oh, I am more than happy to let you see him alone if you ever so desire. You don’t need to wander upon him at another party.”
Your carefree air fell once he asked that. “I don’t know what you-.”
“-It’s alright.” He interrupted. “There’s nothing wrong with being curious, I am only concerned for your own safety.”
You stood taller, a shy smile upon your lips. “I am capable of taking care of myself, sir.”
“Of course my lady, why else would you be out here in the streets of commoners without a chaperone?”
Purposefully, you turned onto one of the crowded piazzas where the music and laughter was the loudest. You grinned from ear to ear.
“Oh please, don’t tell me you volunteered yourself to keep me safe.”
He laughed. “No, just wanted to say hello.”
You didn’t have time to respond, as one of the performers had recognized you. Ah, a girl that lived in the house across from yours when you were children! You still remembered her name, and after you passed your belongings to Macrinus, she pulled you into the circle of performers, dancing with you.
You laughed the most you had that year; in fact, you swore your bruised your ribs just from the sheer joy you felt. You don’t know how long you danced and sang with those who were your neighbors and friends, but just as you felt your feet begin to give out, Macrinus put his hand on your shoulder.
“I believe you should go back to the palace and rest.”
Nodding, you said farewell to your companions and took the bag of wheat and garlic back from him. “You are right, thank you so much.”
He grinned. “Let me escort you back.”
“No,” you walked ahead of him. “I wish not to bother you anymore. Good day, Macrinus!”
You lost yourself in the crowd, purposefully making it harder for him to follow. Once you were in the palace, you rushed into the kitchen, holding the sack of wheat behind your back, you greeted the cooks and snuck into the small pantry. You set the sack down on a shelf and pocketed two single reeds, along with an onion.
That night, Geta had called you into his chambers. Before going, you had cut the onion and brought it to hover around your eyes. You were crying by the time you were at his door. Immediately, he took notice of your reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks.
“What is it, what’s wrong?”
You shook your head, only crying more. It was less because of the onion now, and just everything coming down crashing onto your shoulders once more. Geta pulled you into his chambers by your shoulders, sitting you on the bed.
“Tell me now what is bothering you.” He commanded.
You shook your head. “I-I can’t-.”
“-Now, Julia!”
Taking a deep breath, you reached into the pocket of your breast, taking out the two reeds and setting it in his hand. He furrowed his brows.
“I do not understand.”
You took a deep breath. “The handmaids have given me wheat and barley seeds ever since I have arrived. If they grow, then that means…that means I am with child.”
The look on his face spoke it all. You were certain you were dead.
“I-I didn’t know how you would feel, and-and so I-.”
He crushed you in an embrace, attaching his lips to your jaw. “Jupiter has blessed me.”
It was the first time you felt happiness in his presence. Of course, not because of him, but still joy. You returned his embrace, sighing in relief. “You are happy?”
“Happy?” He pulled away, holding your face in his hands. “There is nothing in this world that could sadden me right now. I will have an heir.”
As long as it was a boy (if it were real at all).
You feigned your smile and leaned into his touch. “I am fortunate to give you one.”
“And I am most fortunate to have you.” He laid down and brought you with him.
Perhaps, in another life, he was kind to you and didn’t only value you until you gave him a child. Perhaps you would be in love with him, and he would make you empress
But you weren’t fortunate to be born into that fantasy.
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You wished nothing more than to sit with Marcus and Lucilla as you made your way into the emperor’s booth of the Colosseum. The three of you had managed to speak to one another, but only about meaningless things. Still, you just enjoyed their company.
 It would be more exciting that day. A naval battle, the Naumachia. The arena was filled with water and sea creatures you could never even possibly imagine. It was a wonder in and of itself how all the ships managed to fit themselves in the arena.
“Caracalla,” you said to the brother beside you as you were about to take your seat. He looked up upon hearing his name. You handed him the bag filled with garlic. “I finally found some for you.”
He grinned from ear to ear. “And you say that if I mix this with myrrh, I shall be cured?”
“It should treat the lesions on your skin.” You corrected. “This is what I did for my father.”
He died of the same ailment, but Caracalla didn’t ask; simply smiled. “Thank you, dear sister.”
You nodded, sitting down on the arm of Geta’s throne that would have put you in the middle of him and his brother. He wrapped his arm around you.
“You’ve been far kinder these days.” Geta pointed out.
“Perhaps that means I’ll be the most agreeable mother.” You jested, kissing his cheek.
He smirked, and as the man on the far end of the Colosseum began to announce the games, Geta stood up and rose his grail.
“I would like to propose a toast!” He yelled. The crowd fell silent, and you felt your skin crawl away from you. Geta continued. “To the health of wives and to mothers. Especially to my lover, Julia, who carries my son the moment as we speak!"
An eruption of applause and cheers filled the stadium. You blushed upon the praise, and genuinely wanted to hide yourself from the gaze of everyone; especially the ones closest to you. You could feel both Marcus and Lucilla’s eyes on you, attempting to hide their shock and perhaps horror. The worst was that of Macrinus.
He knew. Just from the look of him (or perhaps it was your own paranoia), but he had to have known from the moment you bought the wheat.
Still, they all applauded, and ones the excitement of your supposed pregnancy died down, the enthusiasm for the battle was born.
It was perhaps the one event you could stomach. While you could still clearly see men dying, it wasn’t as horribly bloody as the prior. Were you becoming numb to the cruelty of these games because you were pretending…or were you letting the game invade your head?
As several ships collided within the growing chaos, men would either die from their fellow man or would simply fall into the water and be devoured by beasts you had never seen until then. Your eyes had been following Hanno the whole time, whether purposefully or not.
Words could not describe the terror that had been brought upon you as you saw him aim his crossbow at the booth you sat in.
You did not think the arrow would pierce you, but it did. It longed into your right shoulder, and a cry you had no idea you were capable of making tore through your throat.
Tears blinded your vision, but the screams from the whole arena deafened your ears you could not even hear what Geta was saying to you.
You could barely make out Marcus’ in front of you as he snapped the body of the arrow and then hoisted you into his arms. You’d never been carried like this as a woman; only as a child by your father.
The heat of Rome felt hotter that day as the pain in your shoulder only grew tighter and tighter as if your skin was going to stretch away from you. The next thing you knew, you were laid upon a cold, solid surface, and sound returned to your ears.
“It’s alright, you’re alright.” Geta shushed, brushing your hair. “You’ll be okay.”
Someone stuck their fingers into your wounded shoulder, and you could only scream. A tender hand laid itself on your cheek, and just from touch alone, you knew it was Lucilla.
“Do not touch her!” Geta hissed, swatting her away.
“No, no!” You whined, reaching out and holding onto her.
Lucilla dropped to her knees, kissing every part of skin that was available, mumbling. “I know, I know. This too shall pass, you are stronger than you believe, my dear.”
Then, just like that, you felt the arrowhead leave your body. The pain was still excruciating beyond belief, but all that was left was for your arm to be wrapped in cloth, and to rest.
One of the guards in charge of the gladiators approached you when you were finally able to sit up.
“My lady,” he began. “did you happen to get a look at the man who shot you?”
“She’s only starting to recover!” Geta snapped. “How dare you. She carries my child, and-!”
“-It’s alright, Geta.” You soothed.
You could’ve done it. Told him with full confidence that it was Hanno. There would have been your chance of power; to kill the man who had nearly killed you.
Yet…you were vindictive and wanted to do it yourself.
“I have no memory.” You told him. “It happened so fast.”
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How horrible it is that Geta would stop forcing you to pleasure him only when you were supposedly with his child and injured. You assumed that if you were suffering from only one of those ailments, than he still would’ve held you down and used you.
You thought nothing else would happen that night. You would simply speak to one another, pretending to be completely enamored by his existence, and then lie down to sleep.
Of course, that would be too peaceful.
You were awoken gently, to your surprise, by Geta shaking you. Humming, you rubbed your eyes. “What is it?”
“The general and his whore wife.” He gritted his teeth. “They planned to kill us.”
You shot right up, forgetting about your injured shoulder, and let out a cry. Geta helped you stand, and that was when you saw Caracalla standing before you, his monkey companion Dundus perching upon his shoulder.
“How-how do we know?” You stammered, not having to feign your terror.
Neither of them answered, and the three of you were led out into the throne room. There before you in their night clothes just as you were, Lucilla and Marcus.
Geta approached them first, seething. “The honor, the dignitas that Rome has bestowed upon you. All this you have forfeited by your treachery. Thanks to the civic virtue of men like Macrinus and Thraex your insurrection has been revealed-.”
 “-Torture me if you want,” Marcus shook his head. “but please, don’t lecture me.”
Geta’s face turned almost as red as his hair. “Your name and deeds will be forgotten, lost to history! You are damned to oblivion!”
“You damn me?” He laughed. “I don’t care. Everything is forgotten in time. Empires fall… and so do Emperors.”
Caracalla rose from his seat, reaching for his brother’s sword. “Why wait? I'll gut him right now!”
Geta grabbed onto him. “Brother! Brother! His death must be public.”
“Public, yes. Hang his entrails from the city gates!” He pointed at Lucilla. “Crucify her!”
“No!”
All eyes fell on you after your outburst. Even you froze in place, feeling bile begin to rise up within you. Geta let go of Caracalla. “‘No?’ You say? What would you have me do then?”
Swallowing thickly, it was hard to speak as tears began to fall. You held your stomach. “Crucifixion is…it’s…”
His face dropped into a scowl. “You aren’t saying I should let them live, are you?”
“No-!”
“-Then which is it?!”
Your voice fell silent as your chest constricted, and you could barely breathe. Your mouth would move, but nothing came out; not even strangled noises of desperation.
“If I may, your grace,” Macrinus stepped forward. “I believe she means to bring equal punishments to the crimes committed.”
Geta furrowed his brow. “I do not know what you speak of.”
“Please, let the rest of them out of the room so I might explain more clearly.’
He considered his words, then turned to his guards. “The criminals to the dungeons, my brother to his chambers, and my love-.”
“-I wish to be alone tonight.” You stated.
The emperor scoffed. “What?”
“The babe.” You began. “I-I have helped many women deliver their children, and what has always caused an early birth is stress. I-I cannot take any-anymore of it, or I fear…”
Finally, he took in the sight of your fearful face. Sighing heavily, he said. “Put my lady in her chambers for tonight.”
“Thank you.” You kissed his hand.
You were led into your own chambers, and once the door was shut, you threw yourself onto your bed and wept. You wept until you were wailing into the night, you wept until your eyes were as red as the sun in the morning, you wept until it hurt to continue to do so…
It was unknown how long you had cried, but the opening of your bedroom door is what alarmed you. Snapping your head over in the direction, you were shocked to see Macrinus.
“The general and his wife’s fate has been decided.” He stated.
You held a pillow to your chest, rubbing your reddened nose. “And what is it?”
“The emperor has chosen to let the gods decide, and Acacius will fight against Hanno tomorrow in the arena.”
“You mean you convinced him to.” You glared.
Macrinus approached you. “May I try some of the bread you have baked, my lady?”
You held no confusion when he asked you that. Surprise, yes; but you knew what he asked. You took a deep breath. “I believe I don’t understand.”
“The wheat you bought only days ago.” He reminded. “You said you would bake your own bread. Surely, you didn’t use it as false proof of you carrying the emperor’s heir?”
You didn’t dare look at him. Even when he laid his hand on our back, rubbing circles over your nightdress. “I wish to help you, my child. You must be willing to help me first.”
That was why he also didn’t alert Geta of your betrayal…unless, he had no idea of your alliance with Marcus and Lucilla.
“What is it that you want?” You asked.
“All in time.” He soothed. “I wish to give you the privilege to speak to someone.”
You finally looked at him, your eyes wide. “General Acacius?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I am unable to escort you to the dungeons below the palace. Yet, I can take you to the pit of gladiators.”
“It is easier for you to take me out of the palace than below it?”
“Take you to the man who nearly overthrew the emperors?” He chuckled bitterly. “Not possible. I cannot grant you the gift to say goodbye, but I can allow you to bargain for his life.”
You blinked. “Hanno?”
“Correct.”
“How can I leave the palace at this hour, after what has just happened?”
“You underestimate the silence men will take when it is weighed in gold.” He tutted. “I can only give you ten minutes with him. Will you go or not?”
You were forced to decide quickly…This could be your chance. He had nearly took your life the other day, and the pain in your shoulder was just a growing reminder of that. If he were dead…there was no way you could overtake him.
Yet, you learned that, in a world of men, you didn’t have to be stronger than them: Only smarter, and faster.
“I will go.”
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You had hidden a kitchen knife under your bed the moment you had your own chambers. Geta had gifted you several colorful ribbons he loved to see you wear in your hair. He perhaps did not expect you to tie one around your waist under your gown, securing the knife.
Macrinus led you swiftly from the palace to the gladiator pit, which was thankfully not a long walk. You ignored the stares and intrigued calls from the other men as you treaded the halls. You were stopped by a door. Macrinus didn’t even warn Hanno who stood shirtless in his cell, only opened the door and let you enter.
“I’ll rattle the door when it’s time.” That was all he said and left.
Hanno didn’t even seem alarmed. “And what is Rome’s Delight doing here?”
Your blood boiled upon seeing him, yet you remained calm. “I have come to make a bargain; a plea.”
That was when the puzzlement appeared on his face. “And what is that?”
“The man you will fight tomorrow, you must spare him.”
“Why should I?”
Your grief and despair had made itself known to everyone around you for the past few days; yet, in that cell, only with Hanno as your witness, did he see your rage.
“He is the one who saved my life when you meant to steal it!”
The only change you saw in him was his jaw clenching. Other than that, nothing. “The general?”
You only nodded.
He sighed, brushing past you and shaking the door. “Macrinus!”
“What are you doing?” You hissed.
“I will not have you waste your breath on that man.”
“I will give you anything you desire.”
Hanno faced you. “Then you can deliver his head on a platter for me.”
You gawked as he walked away.  “What have I ever done to you?”
“What?”
“Do you truly hate me that much?!” You turned back to him, getting closer. “Kill the man that is the reason I am still here?”
The last thing you thought you would hear left his lips: A laugh. No, not a genuine one. One that you yourself have released on multiple occasions when you have been in disbelief.
“You truly believe everything that happens is because of you?” He taunted. “Has the emperor been filling your mind with so many delusions of grandeur, you can no longer conceive a world where you are not the center of it?”
“Is it so difficult for you to answer my question because you are a fool, or because you wish to not admit it?” You hardened your tone.
“What is your question, my empress?”
“Why did you shoot me?!”
“The arrow was not meant for you!”
You felt your shoulders drop upon the confession. Your aggression ceased only because of your bewilderment.
“Then who?” You asked.
He backed away. “The general you so wish to defend.”
“Whatever it is that he has done, it can be solved with-.”
“-He murdered my wife.”
Hanno said it so easily. No pain, no rage, nothing. It was a fact, and that was what he wanted you to know.
And how stupid you had been. No one in all of Rome was pure of heart; including Marcus. He was a war general; how could you think he wouldn’t have committed sins against the innocent?
“Why so silent, my lady?” He asked. “Are you in disbelief that he has enemies?”
“I didn’t know that.” You admitted.
“That the general is too a monster, or that he killed the only thing in my life worth living for?”
“And that is your desire?” You prodded. “Take his life so that he may die knowing his wife will be ravaged by wolves?”
When he charged at you, you barely had enough time to reach in your dress and unsheathe your knife. Hanno stopped himself just in time for the tip to kiss his chest. Nothing to cause any more harm than a scratch.
Even though you were not the one hurt, you breathed as if you were. He stared down at you as you shrunk under his gaze, and the two of you remained frozen. That is, until he grabbed both your wrists, and rose them above your head.
“I am only merciful because the general still breathes.” He spoke so only you could hear. “If your bastard of a lover had put him to the sword this night you chose to visit me, you would be dead before you could scream.”
Your nose was an inch from his, that was how close he stood to you. His breath caressed your skin, and you turned away in disgust. He let go of your empty wrist, yet still held the one with the dagger.
“Did you believe you could kill me tonight?” He asked, yet you said nothing. Hanno then brought the dagger to his breastbone, angling it upward. “Do not stab head on; stab up.”
Silence and an iron gaze was your reply.
He then hovered it to the pulse point of his neck. “If you want a quick death, right here; with a thinner blade, preferably.”
Then, he placed the tip just above his brow. “If you need information out of a rat, and you have the stomach to do so, drag it across. It will make the mightiest of men cry like a child in the night.”
“You are clever and a skilled warrior,” you finally said. “what is it you want me to tell you?”
“That you will leave it up to the gods and to me if your general lives or not.”
“But I cannot.” You dared to dig the blade just a little into his skin, and his breath hitched. “My desire for him to live is stronger than for you to die.”
Hanno finally let go of your wrist, and you immediately retracted the knife from his brow. “So do you wish to try again to kill me?”
“I wish for you to show mercy.”
“Mercy?” He questioned. “Mercy upon the man who pillaged my home and killed my wife? Mercy for the one who has made me a slave?”
“I too am a slave and-.”
“-And?!” He cried. “And there is nothing! You are draped in silks whilst I in chains and are bathed in clear waters while I in blood, yet you say we are the same?!”
You swallowed your anger, knowing it would bring you nowhere. “You entertain the horrid creatures of Rome; I am forced to pleasure the emperor. We perform differently, but we are still slaves.”
“You are with child.” He stated. “Will that child also be a slave though the emperor is quick to claim it is his heir?”
The crackling of the torches in the room only added to the fire th in your soul. If not contained correctly, you would surely burn and take him with you.
 “A child…yes.” You relaxed, folding your hands. “A child that I could command to be Geta’s. Perhaps, if I wanted to have the brothers slaughter one another, I could say it belongs to Caracalla. Or, if I despised you anymore than I do at this moment…I could say that it is yours.”
Hanno’s eyes dropped in recognition, saying softly. “You carry an empty womb.”
You nodded. “It is the same as your honor.”
Moments later, the door behind you rattled, and Macrinus spoke even when you didn’t. “The time is up, my little empress.”
You bowed your head to Hanno, curtsying. “Sleep well.”
He said nothing in reply, and you turned on our heel, leaving the cell. You pulled your hood back over your head as Macrinus led you through the darkened streets of the city.
“Did you get what you came for?” He asked.
“No.” Was your immediate reply. “And I do not know truly what I wanted.”
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The day was as blistering hot as the others, yet the stare Lucilla gave you as she was being led into the emperor’s viewing box made your blood turn to ice. There was not a hint of wrath upon her face; there was nothing at all.
She already looked as if her soul had been stolen.
“How does your shoulder fair, dear sister?” Caracalla brushed his fingers over your arm.
A watery smile was upon your lips like second nature. “It still aches, but it heals, thank the gods. And your overall health?”
He sighed. “I do not know how much longer I have upon this earth.”
“Do not say such things.” You squeeze his hands. “If the gods will it, you shall live for another hundred years.”
He kissed your hands that held his. “I hope so, my love.”
Your grin fell upon the title, and Geta immediately sat you down on the chair behind him that was beside Lucilla’s. He gave an apologetic look.
“He only grows more confused by the day.” He caressed your cheek. “You are well?”
You were far from it, but you could not say that. “Your son feels better now.”
Geta smiled, lowering his head down to kiss your womb. “He will need all his strength.”
The announcer on the other side of the arena yelled to gain everyone’s attention. “From the vanquished city of Numidia, the victor of three contests in the Colosseum, the barbarian Hanno!”
You watched as he ran up from the pit, sword in hand. On the other side, you watched at they brought in Marcus. You could barely look at his already beaten figure. The announcer continued. “Will challenge General Marcus Acacius for his treason against the lives of the Emperors and the enemy of the State!”
The two approached one another on the sandy field. Even from where you sat, so close to them, you could barely make out the look in their eyes. You assumed their was hatred, but your own eyes must have deceived you, because you swore you saw a hint of regret within Marcus’ own gaze.
You blinked and the battle between the two had begun. It was a different level of insanity at how they fought. Marcus was decades older than Hanno, and yet, there were moments where the Numidian had to keep up with him.
Than, the roles would be reversed.
Blood stained the floor of the Colosseum as they fought. Then, when all feel silent between them, and Marcus could barely stand, his lips moved as he spoke to Hanno, then raised his hand.
He yielded.
The patrons of the arena began to mumble amongst themselves, growing louder and louder. Geta rose to his feet. “Romans! What say you?”
In an instant, choruses begging him to be spared overpowered the few that wanted him to be killed. Geta shut his eyes, raising his hand, and they were silenced.
“The gods have rendered their judgement.”
His thumb pointed downward, and the crowd erupted in dissent. Your heart was forcing itself to beat out of your chest as you could only stare at the sight of Hanno glaring down at the general before him.
He tossed his sword to the side.
You hadn’t even noticed Caracalla stood until you heard him yell. “Kill him, kill him!” Like an angered child.
“Is this how Rome treats its heroes?!” Hanno shouted, staring at the audience all around him and pointing his sword. “If his life has no value, what are yours worth?”
Geta stepped up onto the barrier, balancing between the viewing box and a fifteen-foot drop into the arena. He held his arms out to his side, his sleeves dropping to the ground, and his pale face was red. “The gods have spoken! Kill him!”
From all sides of the stadium, hundreds of archers aimed their bows at the center of the battleground. Yet, none fired. Caracalla jeered.
“In the name of Jupiter, kill him!”
The arrows were released, and they screamed like none other as they fired into the center. As they pierced Marcus’ body, you did not know you had been wailing in fright until Geta had slapped you.
“You mewling cunt!” He cursed. “You wish to weep over the man who nearly had you killed?”
Blood fell upon your tongue from your bruised lip, and you did not dare to look at him nor Lucilla.
“Death will be too good for you!” She cried with all of her heart.
The noise from the crowd died as if the people themselves had done so. Then, just like the confused murmurs when Marcus yielded, the same began to grow and grow into a call of rebellion.
It was all in your ears. Lucilla’s weeping, the curses from the crowd, the panic of the emperors…but you stood absolutely still.
With hooded eyes, they drifted up to see that Geta stood just on the edge of the barrier, his back turned to you. Your gaze fell to the ground below you, and it was only then you realized how high up you truly were.
You do not know who or what willed you to, but you then looked at Hanno still the center, covered in blood. As if he knew what you would do, he shook his head.
“Ah, ah, ah.” Macrinus grabbed your arm roughly when you took one step towards Geta.
The emperors turned to him upon his appearance, and Macrinus loosened his grip on you before saying. “For our safety’s sake, we should leave.”
“Yes.” Geta stepped down, wrapping his arms around you. “We should.”
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You never knew there was a safe house in Rome until you were forced into it. Perhaps that was the reason for it being a safe house, so that no one knew of it. Yet, apparently, almost all of the roman citizens found it that night. Or, they were simply rioting wherever a free patch of land was.
The cries played in your ears despite them being behind heavy walls of the safe house, and you dared not to peek out the windows as the several fires would temporarily blind you. In the house was you, Macrinus, Dondus (Caracalla’s pet monkey, although he’d call him his other half), and the twin emperors.
“How is the babe?” Geta asked as you sat with your head hanging low.
Of course he would ask that. You didn’t look at him. “He is in fear for his life.”
“I understand,” he sighed. “but there-.”
“-But what?” You finally looked at him, hissing. “Chaos has fallen upon the city because of your actions.”
“There was nothing else to do.” Geta glared at you. “He and his bitch were plotting to kill us! If I’d let him live-.”
“-Don’t you hear them?” Caracalla cried out from his seat, holding Dondus. “They’re calling for our heads! She is right, you brought this upon us!”
Geta placed his hands on him. “Calm yourself, brother. The Praetorians will put down this crowd like they have others-.” The money upon Caracalla’s shoulder chirped out in anxiousness from the people outside. “Keep the ape still!”
“Beware of how you speak to Dondus!” His brother berated.
“Perhaps,” Macrinus finally intervened. “you should take Dondus and Julia elsewhere. The noise outside is too much for them; you should comfort one another someplace quieter.”
Caracalla nodded, gathering up Dondus and moving to help you stand, but Macrinus reached his hand out first. You took it, and as you stood, he said into your ear.
“I will find you on the right side of the hall.”
This was not the time nor place for riddles, but you could not react in any sort of way. You looped our arm through Caracalla’s and walked out of the room, hoping to find somewhere quieter.
“I’m afraid,” you confided in him, truthfully.
“I am as well.” Was all he could say.
You stopped in the middle of the hall once he found an open door. “I…I need time with my own thoughts. Please.”
He nodded, cradling Dondus closer to his chest before entering the room, shutting the door tightly. Within the minute, you watched as Macrinus approached you from the other side of the hall.
You spat. “What do you want?”
“I know I stole your moment of vengeance, and for that, I apologize.” He stood before you. “But let me make it up to you.”
“How could you possibly?”
From his cloak, he brandished a knife, holding the handle out to you. You took it without hesitation, yet question was still upon your face. “I do it myself?”
“You could,” he shrugged. “or, you could have his own brother do so.”
“Caracalla? He is senile.”
“Then I have a proposition for you.” Macrinus pointed to the door Caracalla was behind. “Convince him that Geta will destroy all of you if he is not disposed of. Convince him that, as the new emperor of Rome, he will need more trusting subjects. I shall be his second in command, and you shall be free.”
You furrowed your brow. “Who shall be first?”
“The monkey.” He smirked. “Do you believe he would put me above him?”
It sounded so simple; too simple. Yet, as the crowd began to die down, and you could no longer hear their protests from outside, the quietness brought to you what you had always known: You would never be your own person again so long as Geta breathed.
You held the dagger to your heart, saluting him. “I shall do my duty.”
He nodded. “May the gods be with you when you do, Brutus.”
An insult to most, and while it shocked you, you took it in stride as you stood outside the door. You made yourself look smaller, more afraid, and hid the dagger within your cloak as you entered the room.
There, sitting upon the floor, was Caracalla and Dondus. Like a scared child, he held the monkey close to him, grooming one another as if it was the only thing to bring comfort.
“Caracalla?” You whispered.
He stared up at you, and you noticed he had been crying. Immediately, you sat before him, bringing him into your arms.
“Nothing was ever mine.” He cried, embracing you. “Everything was ‘ours’, always. Even in the womb, he gripped the umbilicus in his tiny fist to deprive me of air.”
“He did?”
“Certainly, one cannot forget.”
You pulled away only to hold his face tenderly in your hands. “You must listen to me, for what I tell you is dire. Your brother wishes to blame you before the Senate; for what happened, for the chaos in the streets-.”
“-That is a lie!” He tore himself from you. “I didn’t do it!”
“I know that, but they don’t. No testimony is more damning than that of a brother against another.”
“He lies! He always lies!” He sobbed.
“He’s very persuasive.”
“What will they do to me?”
“I don’t dare imagine, but…gods above, I don’t wish to know what they will do to Dondus.”
His jaw quivered with the rest of his body. “What-what shall we do?"
You sighed. “I…I have a proposition, but it is most outrageous and-.”
“-Julia,” he begged, grabbing your hands. “dear, sweet sister, please tell me.”
Breath shuttering, you reached into your cloak and held the blade out to him. “Slay your brother tonight. You shall be crowned the sole emperor of Rome when morning comes, and Dondus, the child I carry, and I will be safe.'
He took it, yet still had that look of terror. “This…It has always been he who led everything. I do not know who to trust or-or who to command.”
“Then let me-.” You stopped yourself, eyeing the monkey that lay at his legs. You held your hand out to him, and Dondus climbed into your arms. “Let us help you. Claim Dondus as your first in command, and I your second.”
You wished the same as Lucilla and Marcus; to have Rome be a free empire. Yet, you would have to free Lucilla yourself before that happened.
Caracalla nodded yet said. “You-you are with child. You will become delirious as time progresses.”
And he was the epitome of having a clear mind.
“I will need a third.” He settled.
You shook your head. “That has never been done before-.”
“-I will be emperor!” He screamed. “If it is to be done, it shall be done!”
Raising your hands in surrender, you pleaded. “It shall, it shall! For a third…Macrinus. He has been loyal and informed us of the general’s betrayal.”
“Yes, yes Macrinus will do.” He grabbed your face and pressed his lips against yours. It didn’t even truly feel like a kiss, yet it shocked you nonetheless. “You are the wisest woman I have ever met, dear sister.”
You nodded, forcing a smile. With that, he stood on his feet and left the room. IT would have been easy to stay in there and wait for his return…
Yet, you wanted to be the last thing Emperor Geta saw.
No fear toiled within your body as you approached the throne room, not even when you hear the cries that you knew belonged to Geta. You walked through the doors, watching as Geta held his hands up in fear, begging his brother to spare his life as he was forced onto his knees, trying to stop the knife in Caracalla’s hand.
“I love you!” Geta squealed, staring up at him through tears “You are my brother, I love you!”
You moved to stand behind the younger twin, glaring at the man before you. Geta’s eyes dropped in relief.
“My love, my love, please help me!”
There was nothing uncertain about how you grabbed Caracalla’s hand that held the dagger. With eyes unblinking, you guided the blade into Geta’s throat, pushing it further and further as blood drained from his mouth.
The emperor was dead, and you would sleep like a child once more that night.
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There was something inside of you when you awoke that morning. Not the child you had lied to all of Rome about; it felt like a parasite. You threw up an hour after you woke up, but when you checked with the healers, they said that there was nothing ailing you.
Was it…guilt? No, no it could not be.
Was it possible to feel guilt for the act of killing someone, but not feeling it for who was killed?
You had no time to debate these issues as if you were a philosopher.
Dressed in your finest silks, you made way into the room where the hundreds of senators met, carrying a hefty sack beside you. You sat in a chair next to Macrinus.
“You have done well.” He said softly.
You smiled. “Only because of you.”
Your gaze turned to Caracalla, who sat in one of the two thrones that were there for him and Geta. He looked like the worst you had ever seen him be. A blood rag had been placed at his feet.
“Now I am the only one.” He began, voice low. “I was the true us, and he was the false me. We were always ‘we,’ all our lives, but now I am only I, me, alone.”
The senators look at one another in silent terror. The only ones to not feel fear were you and Macrinus.
Caracalla continued. “My hand held the blade, but my father’s hand guided mine. I was the puppet, dancing on his string. As Emperor, I have convened the Senate to appoint my First Consul and bestow upon him the power to administer the military and civic functions of the Empire.”
He tossed his hand to the second thrown, revealing his fury companion. “I name Citizen Dondus!”
Where the senators were beyond terrified, they were now confused. Macrinus was the first to rise, applauding. “Hail Dondus!”
You repeated his sentiment, clapping with vigor. Caracalla and the rest of the mortified senators applauded all repeating ‘Hail Dondus!’.
Once the excitement died down, Caracalla resumed. “As is custom, I am naming a Second Consul to advise the First and to assure his integrity. Though you will find that Dondus is incorruptible! As Second Consul, I name…”
Macrinus took one step forward.
“The mother of the future heir to the throne, Julia!”
All eyes fell upon you, standing taller than you ever had done in your life. How strange it was though, that the same reaction to a monkey being assigned first in command, was to you, a woman.
Utter silence, until Caracalla applauded enthusiastically. Like sheep, the senators followed; all but Macrinus.
“Yet, as mother to the heir,” the emperor said after finishing. “it is apparent she shall be incompetent for majority of her advising. So, for the first time in the history of Rome, I name Citizen Macrinus as my third!”
Even with this third twist in a counsel, the senators seemed more so relieved at the decision. Macrinus did not smile or even acknowledge the honor, simply stared ahead. Caracalla gathered Dondus in his arms.
“There will be a triumphal parade to celebrate. There will be games and mass executions! Long live the Empire!”
“Long live the Emperor!” You and the senators all yelled.
The Emperor Caracalla carried the First Consul Dondus sweepingly out of the hall, to the Senate’s terrified silence. You picked up the sack that had been beside you this whole time, then making your way to the center of the room.
You opened the sack, and out fell Geta’s decapitated head. The Senate gasped and gagged at the sight of the former emperor’s head. You almost felt sorry for the horror they felt that whole time. Yet, there horror is what would bring you fortune.
“This is what befell your emperor.” You pointed to the head at your feet. “He was slaughtered by the one who shared a womb with him. Tell me, senators, is this who we must trust to maintain the greatness of the Roman Empire?”
They did not glance at one another in uncertainty; no, no they were listening to you.
You continued, your heart stammering. “I am not the one who will stand with you for the rest of my days, it is the son I carry within me. And if it is my son who will become emperor, then there must still be an empire for him once he is born. Hysteria has poisoned the streets for decades now, it is time to put an end to it!”
Murmurs and nods of approval began to echo amongst the counsel.
“Every single one of Rome’s children matters; from the beggars to the emperor himself. If one falls, so shall the rest of the Empire. I have walked beside the lay people of the city, and they feel betrayed by the former emperor for the murder of their beloved general. To right this wrong, I call for the release of Lucilla, daughter of Marcus Aurelias.”
Not one of the hundreds of senators made a sound. Deep within you, you knew that there wouldn’t be much rejoicing over Lucilla’s freedom, but you still had to try.
“The people adored her for far longer than they adored the general!” You pleaded. “If we kill her only for the amusement of the elites, then the children of Rome-!”
 “-Shall live.”
You turned to Macrinus, who finally stepped all the way forward.
“Forgive me,” He bowed mockingly. “my lady, but for a woman complimented to have a golden mouth, you have no idea what you are saying.”
A few of the senators chuckled.
“You wish to free the woman who mean to have you, and the emperors killed?” He questioned.
You refuted. “I wish to show the world that Rome is capable of forgiveness.”
“A desire so foolish, only the emperor’s favorite whore could have it.”
“Another word of slander out of your mouth, and I will have your tongue removed!” You stood toe-to-toe with him.
He grinned like the devil, and just from your outburst alone, no matter how warranted it had been, he had you. Macrinus stepped away, looking around at the senators.
“Me thinks the little girl believes she is Marcus Aurelius himself born again.” He straightened his tone. “What say you, senators? All in favor of releasing a traitor to the Empire, speak.”
Not one of them said ‘aye’. If you weren’t under a sheer amount of duress, you would’ve seen perhaps a few faces of inner turmoil, debating on calling for Lucilla’s release.
Yet, no one said a word because they shared the one thing that will contribute to the death of humanity: Cowardice.
Macrinus tutted. “Now, dear Julia and I happen to have, through good fortune and not a little skill, the remaining emperor’s ear. We can speak reason in it and tame the madness in the street. Yet, I will leave the domestic work of calming the emperor to his second in command. As for myself, to restore order to Rome, I will need power over the affairs of the state. Including command of the Praetorian Guard. The decision is in your hands. Ballot or hand?”
One hand rose immediately. Another followed, then ten, then thirty, and then, all of them. He provided no evidence for his cause…yet there was a unanimous decision.
Macrinus held his hand out to you, and you could only stare up at him in question.
“I believe we shall take the seats that are rightfully ours.” He said lowly.
Carefully, you slipped your hand into his, and he led you up the stairs to sit upon the chair that belonged to Geta, while he took Caracalla’s.
This would be the first and the last time a woman ever sat upon the emperor’s throne.
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After being embarrassed that morning, you paced around your chambers. Perhaps you could have found Caracalla and gave him the same reasonings the senate did not listen to. Perhaps he could somehow see to the logic that would be in setting Lucilla free.
No, of course he wouldn’t. Even if his mind was sound, he still knew she was apart of the coup to try and have him dethroned; killed in his mind’s eye.
As your mind grew heavy with existential possibilities towards the future, the door to your chambers opened. Stopping where you stood, you watched as Macrinus entered.
“Now, try to make me understand this," he shook his head. "I let you have your vengeance on the man who used you as a slave, I promised you freedom, and yet you wasted it.”
You clenched your jaw. "How dare you-."
“-How dare I?” He tensed his voice. “How dare I keep silent about your lie? How dare I give you the privilege to take your revenge? I have saved you more than you believe I have harmed you, lady Julia."
The name had always bothered you, but with one emperor dead and the other incapacitated, you assumed it would stop.
Now, it only enraged you more; or perhaps that was just because it was Macrinus saying it.
You glared. “It was your own mistake to believe you were the only one who desired power.”
He took a deep breath, then moving to sit on your bed. “Sit beside me, Rome’s Delight; I have a story to tell you.”
“I am not a child, you may tell me in short.”
“You are not the only slave wishing to be free.” He pulled back the collar of his clothing, revealing a branded ‘M.A’ “You are lucky enough to not carry your master’s mark, but were a slave nonetheless. Marcus Aurelius spoke of peace while still using violence against those who served him.”
Swallowing your pride thickly, you said. “I’m sorry.”
“You have learned now, that is all that matters.”
“But Lucilla will still be dead.” You tried to keep your voice steady. “She wanted the emperors to be gone as much as you, but she will-."
“-Her father enslaved me.”
“Her father is dead; and if taking his empire wasn’t enough, than killing his last child will satisfy you?"
Macrinus clutched your arm, fingers tightening with every word. “I would be careful with how you speak to me. I wish to offer you one last ounce of kindness before I regret it. Now tell me, Brutus, will you accept me as Rome’s new emperor?”
You had all the right to say it was Caracalla, but you thought better of it. So, with the softening of your entire person, you nodded. “I accept you.”
He dropped your arm. “I’ll let you say goodbye this time.”
Macrinus led you down into the dungeons of the palace, and he was right; somehow it was more heavily guarded than the gladiator pit. Even when the worst of the worst prisoners sneered or jeered at you, your sorrow and anger could not stir your fear.
The door to one of the cells was open, and you ran in just as Lucilla turned to see you.
“Five minutes.” Was all Macrinus said before locking the door and leaving.
You embraced one another when he left. Neither of you said anything, just clung to each other as if the world itself would tear you apart.
“Forgive me, mother Lucilla.” You choked up.
Lucilla pulled away, taking your face into her hands. “Sweet child, there is nothing to forgive.”
“I failed you.” The tears finally came. “I was right there in the senate’s room, I-I told them the chaos that would befell Rome if-.”
“-You were in the senate’s room?” She sounded as if her breath had been stolen.
You nodded. “Yes, but they wouldn’t listen!”
“My dear girl,” she smiled. “if you were able to even get half a sentence in, than they listened! My father but sixteen years ago said that it was a shame I had been born a women, for I would have been a magnificent emperor. Yet, here you stand; you who had been once a slave, rose above into having a sear in the senate council.”
Still, no matter how much pride she held, your own shame outweighed it. “I still have failed you.”
“I have already accepted my fate.” She whispered. “I must take care of those who matter to me before I leave this earth.”
“Do not say such things!” You cried. “I’ll still find a way to save you.”
“Hanno is my son.”
You expected her to deny your attempts at rescuing her, you even expected her to coddle you, curse you…but this?
“What?” You uttered.
“He is Lucius Verus Aurulius,” she said gently. “second of his name, but the first son of Maximus Decimus Meridius.”
“The-the gladiator?” Was somehow the first question you asked.
“Yes.” She nodded. “Lucius didn’t run away, I sent him. With him as heir to the empire, I know many would not rest until he was dead. How was he to fight for a claim he knew nothing about? Now, he is here; and I am no longer frightened of dying.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to!”
She shushed you, combing her fingers through your hair. “I can speak to you until the earth is burnt by the sun of how I have made peace, but I know that will not work. So, I have two final requests for you.”
“Anything.”
Lucilla walked to the small desk she had in her cell, then picking up a scroll loosely wrapped in twine. She handed it to you. “My first is to give this to my son before tomorrow. It…explains a great deal of things I do not have the time to say to him.”
You took it, holding it to your heart. “And the second?”
She smiled, wrapping her arms around you and kissing the side of your head. “To take care of him as I intend him to take care of you.”
It was not the first time that day your eyes had grown. “He despises me.”
“If the gods are merciful, then I truly believe you will both come to see eye to eye as the only two who remain.”
“I nearly killed him.” You admitted. “The night before his duel with Acacius, I brought a knife with me and stabbed him; well…not enough to harm him.”
Lucilla shook her head, giggling. “He will need someone who disagrees with him.”
You found yourself laughing along with her, even through your sobs. She pulled away from you, wiping your tears. “He is a good man. He may deny it but believe me when I tell you.”
“I trust you.” You nodded.
She took a deep breath. “I will be with you, even when I’m gone.”
“I…I know.”
“Now go before I beg you to stay.”
You forced yourself away from her before you could change your mind. You could not even look at her as you left her cell and went up the hall. Just in time, you remembered to hide the scroll as Macrinus approached you.
“Leaving so soon?” He asked.
Sighing, you said. “She’s…inconsolable. I couldn’t bear another moment with her.”
Macrinus nodded. “You should rest for the remainder of the day. It has been quite exhausting.”
“Yes,” you agreed. “it certainly has.”
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It was the first time that night you were forced to sneak out of the palace on your own. Fortunately, you remembered the route you took to the Gladiator pit and managed to dodge any of the guards on patrol that night.
The pit proved to be more difficult as the overseers of it had less space to watch over, yet you still somehow managed to maneuver them.
Perhaps the gods were on your side.
“Hanno.” You whispered once you found his cell.
The man turned over his shoulder once he heard your voice and approached with a scowl. “What are you doing here?”
You wasted no time, holding out the scroll. “Your mother told me to give you this.”
He paused for only half a beat. “My mother died when-.”
“-Your mother is Lucilla, daughter of Marcus Aurelias.” You whispered fiercely. “And you are Lucius, the lost son.”
His eyes didn’t leave yours as he reached down to the latch of the door, and cracked it opened. “Get inside.”
Though you wished to, you didn’t question how he had unlocked it and only walked in. He shut the door tightly, then took the scroll from you. You stood there as he unraveled it to read. His face changed every few seconds, ranging from distress to downright confusion. When he was finished, he looked at you.
“She gave this to you?” You nodded. “Why?”
“I was allowed to say goodbye to her.”
“From Macrinus?” He tested. “Was this before or after you attempted to steal his power?”
“I was cruel to you.” You admitted. “Even after discovering Acacius had pillaged your home and murdered your wife, I expected you to show mercy. I am astounded you did, but as I look back, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t. My desire for the general to live extends to your mother; if not more. She did not give up my name at any moment despite the fact I too was apart of the coup to try and overthrow the emperors. I cannot simply let her die.”
Lucius stared at you, his gaze intimidating yet at ease. He approached you. “You wish to save her life?”
“More than anything.”
“It is a rumor that Macrinus was the one to puppeteer Caracalla in slaying his brother. But…it wasn’t him, was it?”
Breathing deeply, you looked at the floor. “It was I.”
“Look at me.” He commanded softly, and you did. “Would you kill again if it meant protecting her?”
Your mind said ‘yes’ without a moment’s hesitation, but your heart only sunk into your stomach at the thought. It must have been apparent on your face, for he said.
“There is no shame if you are unable to.”
“I will be with him in the emperor’s box.” You said, determination in your eyes. “I will simply need you to buy me time in the arena. It shall be done.”
Lucius nodded, and released along breath before saying. "I treated you harshly. I...I don't believe I would have survived what you have been put through."
You picked at your fingers. "I think you would have."
"No." He solidified. "I wouldn't."
A silence fell between the two of you. There wasn't a hint of discomfort; as if, for the first time, you felt seen.
“You never told me your name.” Lucius uttered.
You pressed your lips together, shrugging. “It was never important.”
“It has been,” he said. “and it is now. You know my true name, if I am to understand you as how my mother wishes I do, then I must know yours.”
Your mouth parted to speak the first syllable, but even that had felt foreign. You instead lied. “I do not remember it.”
As he looked at you, the steely gaze you always knew began to disappear. “You must remember how it sounded from your mother’s mouth.”
“She died before she could hold me.”
“Then your father.” He walked closer to you, yet you felt no fear. “It does not matter if he was wretched or kind, he spoke your name and your name alone. What did it sound like?”
Like he loved you. Even when he was cross, he never raised his voice. You hated more than ever how tears started to build within your eyes.
“Geta had beaten me until I could no longer use it.” you confessed. “It will feel like poison upon my lips.”
“Then whisper it to me so you will scarcely have to move them.”
You had been lain down on a bed and had every bit of a man touch and invade your body. Even before the emperor, you had lain with people in the past of your choosing…
But none of that amounted to the intimacy you felt in that cell as Lucius stood nearly chest-to-chest with you, hovering his ear over your mouth as you finally (finally) spoke your name aloud.
If the heat of his body lingering over yours did not set your entire being aflame, it was the breath he released once he said.
“It’s a kind name.”
It was all too much for you, so you pulled away from him, drying your eyes. “I…I will pray for your safety.”
He outheld his hand to you. “Strength and honor.”
A saying you had overheard people use as they entered the stadium. You shook his hand. “Strength and honor.”
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You didn’t expect to be in the parade Caracalla raved about the day prior. Yet, there you were, draped in the finest and most colorful silks with jewelry in your hair. Inside your sleeve, you’d hidden the same kitchen knife you attempted to stab Lucius with.
You were sat beside Caracalla, who had Dundus upon his shoulder, and who had only grown more delusional since the day prior.
“Where is my brother?” He pulled on your sleeve like a child as you were escorted from the float and into the Colosseum.
A watery smiled pulled upon your lips, and you soothed him. “He feels most unwell today.”
“He should be here.” He sulked as you walked. “He would be happy for me.”
“And he is.” You lied. “You will see him again shortly.”
That managed to ease him, and you both were seated in the emperor’s box with Macrinus. It didn’t escape your vision how hundreds of Praetorians also circled the entire arena. As the time to the match grew closer, you did your best to calm your own nerves. This would be for the good of Rome. Once it was done, you would be able to rest easily again.
It was then you watched as, on one side of the Colosseum, a wagon was rolled out into the center of it. Tied to a pole, dressed up as if she were Venus herself, was Lucilla. All that attempt at soothing yourself was gone once you saw her eyes.
“Must we kill Lucilla?” Caracalla questioned.
You couldn’t even snidely repeat his question to Macrinus you were in such a state of anxiety. Macrinus responded.
“Until she is dead, you will never know peace.”
Thus, the event commenced. The announcer himself even sounded guilt-ridden as he spoke of the crimes Lucilla was being charged with. Treason, betrayal, all of it only anguished the spectators even more to see her being prepared for execution.
“Let it not be said that the Emperor is not merciful!” He yelled. “The queen will be granted a champion to defend her!”
Out from the other side of the arena came Lucius. Half of the Praetorians held their weapons to the man, while the other half faced the civilians as if expecting them to riot. Once again, at the sight of the scene before them, it would not surprise you.
You had been taught one a many myths by your father, mainly belonging to the Greeks. You were Cassandra; blessed by Apollo to speak of prophecies but cursed to not be believed.
When it seemed that hope was gone…Lucius rose his sword, and hundreds of gladiators sprinted from all sides.
The crowd and Caracalla were in an uproar at the excitement. Pandemonium ensued as the gladiators began to climb the barriers and civilians were attempting to enter the arena. The sound of arrows screaming entered your ears; so much so you could not hear what Macrinus was saying to another man, and why Caracalla was screaming.
You simply blinked, and once your eyes were open, you watched as Macrinus dove a needle into the side of Caracalla’s neck, killing him.
Only a gasp tore through your throat, having no ability to scream. Your body soon found reason to move, and you rose to your feet, remembering your duty. Macrinus had acquired a crossbow, aiming it towards Lucilla and Lucius now at the center of the arena.
You rose the knife from your sleeve, charging towards the man. The arrow was fired, and you leapt upon his shoulders.
He moved wildly, trying to force you off of him. You made attempt to slash his throat, but it made contact with his eye instead.
Still…he overpowered you. Flipping you over him, you dropped down into the arena, your head colliding with the ground.
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The sky was orange above you when you opened your eyes. Your head had never felt so awful before, and you were surprised you could even sit up. All around you, bodies littered the Colosseum floor. If there was not blood laid before you, there were swords and shields.
Your eyes drifted to the center, and now sunken to the floor, was Lucilla on her wagon. You forced yourself to stand and walk towards her.
When you could see the arrow sticking in her chest, you began to run.
Climbing atop the wagon, you untied the ropes around her hurriedly.
“Mother,” you begged. “mother, can you hear me?”
“I am still here, sweet child.” She whispered weakly.
“Save your energy now.” You managed to free her, and then pulled her to your lap.
“I will be seeing my beloveds now.” She smiled.
“No,” you hissed. “you are going to live.”
She reassured. “It is alright. I have fulfilled everything that was asked of me, and what I wished for.”
“Mother-!”
“-You will look after him, won’t you?”
You wanted to cry; you wished that sadness was the first thing you felt. But no, it was anger. Still, you nodded. “I will, but you will be there to make sure he takes care of me too!”
“He shall.” Was all she said.
“You will live, just please stop talking.”
“I love you.”
“Lucilla…” Your voice broke.
“Tell Lucius I would do this all again for him.”
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Lucilla rose her hand to your cheek, brushing it tenderly one last time.
Her eyes were held open as she went limp in your arms. You closed her eyelids, knowing her gaze would haunt you.
You did not move for the first hour, nor did you cry out in despair. It was when the sun was completely gone, and you tore yourself away from her corpse did you collapse into a fit of sobs.
The ugliest sounds were released from your mouth as you could barely stand. You do not know how long you cried, but when you could finally move again, you crawled to the nearest sword, and trailed it behind you before climbing back up onto the wagon.
You tied the rope from her body around her legs, and brought her back into your lap, sword in hand.
There was no rest for you that night. You would nearly drift off into sleep, but you couldn’t bring yourself to give in until you could bury her properly. You also couldn’t bring yourself to bury her at the same time.
When you had lost time altogether, and the sky was purple as twilight broke, a gentle hand shook you.
Raising the sword in surprise, you felt your body relax once you saw Lucius. You should have asked how he survived, what happened to Macrinus, anything else…but all you said was.
“I wouldn’t let anyone touch her.”
He nodded, tears threatening to fall as he gazed upon his dead mother. He took a deep breath. “May I take her?”
You handed her to him, and he took her into his arms. You scooted off the wagon, your eyes reddened and exhausted.
“Where,” you cleared your throat. “Where should she be buried?”
“I…” He heaved. “I know where my father’s grave is.”
“Okay.” Was all you managed.
And you walked by his side, neither of you knowing what your fate would befall in Rome.
Yet…once both slaves, you were now free.
1K notes · View notes
quirrrky · 4 months ago
Text
—•✦ THE BOY IS MINE
OIKAWA, KUROO, BOKUTO showing you that he belongs to you and you to him
≡ NOTES ⋮ I'M BACCKKK! and I'm super excited, can;t wait to fangirl w/ y'all! I'm gonna cri 😭 I miss my boys sm T^T bokuto's made me giddy and kuroo's got me smiling like shit...don't get me started with oikawa!
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OIKAWA
You were on the sidelines watching the man you adored so much being adored by so many other girls. No lies, some of them were prettier than you, you’d think. They could be a good match for your boyfriend.  
Still, you didn’t bother. Tooru always assured you of your worth and how perfect you were for him in every sense––the most beautiful in his eyes.  
Tooru delivered an impactful serve, and the crowd cheered including the other girls beside you. Even from afar, he sent you a smile with a matching flirty wink. The girls squealed with so much giddiness, probably thinking it was for them.
He cast another glance at you, which you returned primly.  
You were always his number one fan. You might not be on par with him when it came to Volleyball, but you didn’t mind being his cheerleader, his anchor and the source of his strength whenever he’d feel inadequate.  
You were secured and not moved by how many fangirls he had until now. The reporter pulled Tooru to the side together with a known female Volleyball player who’s around the same age as him.  
The two of them were the top players of their teams–the most competent. The reporter and everybody else simply admired seeing the both of them side by side.  
“Oh! They look so good together!” You heard those around you murmured.  
“Maybe they’re dating...” The others speculated. 
A bitter sting gnawed inside you. The image of Tooru happily playing Volleyball with a partner who could really challenge him head-to-head was making it difficult for you to breathe.  
You were lost in your thoughts when you suddenly felt a hand around your wrist, gently dragging you somewhere.  
T-Tooru?  
He brought you by his side and laced his arm firmly around you. 
“Practice and perseverance are totally the keys in winning but for me it’s not just that,” Tooru responded to the reporter. “We all need a lucky charm, I tell you.” He pulled you closer to him, shifting his gaze to lovingly study your face, saying, “And I got mine right here.”  
You blushed, feeling the heat crawling all over your face. The crowd squealed and hollered yet they didn’t matter in that moment.  
The reporter ended the interview with lighthearted teasing directed at you and Tooru, prompting the start of the last match.  
“How ‘bout a good luck kiss, huh?” He teased.  
“W-What’re y-” You weren’t even able to finish as he already placed a sweet peck on your lips. “Tooru!” You complained when he parted, and he replied by playfully sticking his tongue out.  
Your fingers travelled your lips. Perhaps, you’ve got nothing to worry about after all.  
KUROO
It’s a big day for you and your boyfriend. It would be the first time he’d be giving a welcome remarks to open his institution’s black-tie event. You were even proud to be the one who did his speech.  
As his extra special plus one, he never left your side with both of you just keeping things, hands to yourself, acting as a professional and sober couple. 
However, you were bothered to say the least. You always knew that you had a fine boyfriend. He looked straight out of a novel after all. Tall, handsome and with a good suit to complete the look.  
Tetsurou seemed like every billionaire bad boy in the books you’d encounter in bookstores’ new adult section. It’s no wonder that the girls in his company party all had their eyes on him like he’s a piece of hunky meat they’d jump on at any moment. 
Deep inside, you’d want to be swallowed by the universe below. You were never insecure about your looks, well, maybe sometimes you were like right now! Were you not even pretty enough for them to keep their attraction to themselves? Were you not playing the eye candy part so well?  
Do you even look good beside him? 
Black dress, pretty face and hypnotic smile all amplified by the sweet scent of honey—you’re Kuroo’s most prized possession, not that he treats you as an object. Well, yes, to put it simply you’re the object of his desires, adoration and affection.  
Wasn’t it obvious that you were with him? Yeah right, call him petty, but he couldn’t bear the eyes of these bastards on you.  
Hell, pretty was even an understatement when it came to you. As much as he wanted you to be revered for being the goddess that you are, he still couldn't accept all the gawking you’re receiving and him being disregarded like he wasn’t even there when he’s the boyfriend, the future husband and the forever person.  
He promised he’d behave himself and keep the PDA on low since today’s a formal event, but it looked like he won’t be keeping up with that anymore. 
Jolted, your shoulders rose as Tetsu slithered his arm around your waist. He tugged you closer to him so you were both attached to the hip. You just froze in surprise when he leaned, placed a kiss on your forearm and dropped another one on your shoulder.  
You felt the heat rushing to your face. Your eyes held his as they met. “What...what are you doing?” you whispered and he propped his chin on your shoulder.  
“Showing them who you belong to.” 
Internally, you’re partying. You’d be lying to say that you didn’t want that because you definitely want to show all these girls that Tetsu would only have his eyes on you. “Okay, just don’t overdo it.” 
A lopsided grin appeared on his face. “Not very sure about that.” 
BOKUTO
At last, your fiancé, superstar athlete Bokuto Koutaro, will be arriving home tonight. It has been several months since he’s been away to train and to participate in the Olympics. Now, he’ll be coming home after playing with his utmost best.  
You were standing, waiting for him in anticipation at the airport. This was the moment you’d been waiting for and your face immediately lit up after seeing him walk from the arrivals. His eyes were still sleepy with his pillow still latched around his neck.  
In anticipation, you took a step forward approaching him, but the reporters and his fans beat you to it. Now, he’s swarmed with the crowd taking pictures and asking him questions. Some of them were even bumping into you and all you could do was watch. You were just a mere ordinary citizen, lurking in the shadows of those who admire him.  
You clutch on your chest. You were truly happy for him. Genuinely happy for the recognition he’s receiving. He deserved every bit of it, but...How you’d wish to be closer to him. Be the home he goes back to where he could be just Koutarou, the loving and silly boy you came to love. You just missed him so much. 
A bitter smile appeared on your face, surrendering to your fate until his eyes met yours across the sea of people. He glowed radiantly, beaming at the sight of you. Without hesitation and despite everybody else around, he made a way for himself towards you. 
With so much excitement, you yelped as he hugged you tight and carried you that your legs hooked around him in reflex. Koutarou peppered kisses over your face cooing so lovely that he finally got to see and be with his most adorable Y/N. You giggled, getting a little ticklish with his kisses.  
“Babe, babe! Not here!” You protest in middle of chuckling. “There are people around.” 
Koutarou pouted. “But I miss you so much.” 
“Me too,” you said in a wide grin and he giggled like a school kid finally getting his favorite toy as present.  
He rubbed his nose against yours. “Let’s go home!” 
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@pixelcafe-network
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6gumi · 8 months ago
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blessed by the heavens above!
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synopsis ﹒ jujutsu kaisen men and their tittie obsession !
pairings ﹒ satoru gojo 、suguru geto 、choso kamo 、kento nanami 、ryomen sukuna ( implications of heian form ! ) 、toji fushiguro x f!reader
cw ﹒nsfw MDNI. tits, tits, tits ! ! ! 、titplay 、body worship ( ? ) 、established relationships ( ? ) 、petnames ( pretty thing 、princess 、reader referred to as “girl” once, etc ) 、titsucking 、size difference 、fingering ( sukuna only ) 、 toji called “daddy” once 、 jujutsu kaisen men n’ their luv for titties . . . | tag ! @diorsbrando
note﹒BACK W/ THE JJK WRITINGS ! ! YAAAAY ! ! coughs coughs wrote this while i was sickies . . . (again) i kept sniffling & sniffing each word i wrote down cries . . . i hope i didn’t make too many mistakes :> | reblogs are highly appreciated. if you want to talk to me or send thirsts / requests, feel free to send me an ask ! — millie ♡
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୨୧ SATORU GOJO
gojo was having a rough day . . . the higher ups giving him an earful here and there . . . and exorcizing curses left and right, he was exhausted, so it was almost obvious how he was gonna relax for the entire night ! by laying on your chest ! “i’m gonna take it off now, kay?” his large hands ran through the silky piece of fabric covering your entire body. his beautiful eyes widened at the sight of your bare chest, appreciation clear in his gaze. he licked his lips, unable to resist reaching out and lightly grazing his fingers over your skin, a low hum rumbling in his throat. "fuck . . . now that's what I'm talking about," he says, his voice husky with desire. "damn, angel. your tits are absolutely perfect, just like you." with a mischievous glint in his eye, your exhausted boyfriend leaned in and took one of her nipples into his mouth, suckling it gently before releasing it with a pop . . smirking up at you before latching his mouth back onto your nipple.
shit, he loved your tits, he’d ways pay attention to its warmth, and how it felt within his wet mouth. his mouth nearly watering as he struggled to contain his excitement. gojo’s teeth lazily bit at your nipple, trying to be as gentle as possible . . . breathing heavily through his nose trying to maintain some semblance of control amidst the temptation of your body. you were so small compared to him, yet here he was suckin’ and biting at your nipples . . practically crushing your body from below. despite that, his eyes never left their prize, you. reaching out, he brushed a thumb over one taut nipple of yours . . . earning a sharp gasp. “you make me wanna touch, taste, and explore every inch of you, princess.” the sorcerer spoke playfully, squeezing gently. “can we do this every time i come home?”
୨୧ SUGURU GETO
suguru’s heart swelled as he watched you curl up next to him, he needed your warmth and you were giving him just that. the soft whimpers you made . . . drove him to the edge. the room was bathed in a warm, inviting glow from the fairy lights strung around the windows, casting a rosy hue on the soft sheets and fluffy pillows surrounding you both. gently, suguru traced his fingers along the smooth curve of your hip, drawing lazy circles that made you squirm ever so slightly. despite that, it was a simple pleasure, but it brought him immense joy to see the effect he had on his adorable girlfriend. the sorcerer leaned in closer, whispering into your ear . . . bringing his voice down to a low yet soft whisper as his breath tickled your delicate skin. "see? you’re doing so well, bun," your boyfriend cooed softly, his voice full of warmth and affection. “hm . . . were these things always this cute?”
“your body’s divine, i could look at it for eternity.” suguru examined your tits, he was almost . . . fascinated with how they look. god, how did he not notice their beauty until now? with a tender smile, your boyfriend began to play with your ample breasts, pinching and twisting your sensitive nipples as he watched your pretty face contort in pure pleasure. “yeah . . . my darling likes that, hm?” he could feel his dick pressing against it’s confines as he grunted, squeezing at your pretty breasts even harder than before. “. . . s—sugu . . .” a soft murmur left your lips, your teary eyes gazing up at him. “ . . ‘squeezin’ too hard, sugu . .” “lovely . . . if you say that, i can guarantee that i’ll squeeze these pretty things even harder than i already am. so keep that pretty mouth shut and let ‘sugu do all the work, got it?”
୨୧ CHOSO KAMO
“ . . . baby,” choso’s low voice reverberated through the room, his stare sweet and gentle as he pinched your nipple against his thumb. his own eyes were wide at the display of your breasts, a shiver of desire coursed through him . . . swallowing a lump in his throat as he could feel his dick beginning to swell, pressing against the fabric of his pants. "they’re so beautiful . . “ choso murmured, his voice thick with need for you, the sight was too much. unknowingly licking his lips, he brought your other breast to his mouth, sucking on the nipple and teasing it with his tongue. the cursed spirit’s fingers trailed downwards to your sides, teasing the edge of your panties . . . his grip tightening, almost urging you to rock against him, to feel the length of his erection.
"you’re a good girl," choso praised, his fingers lightly tracing over the curves of your breasts nonstop. he was addicted to the feeling . . . the feeling of your sensitive skin sent shivers down his spine. choso leaned in once more, his lips finding your other nipple, licking and sucking gently, watching as you arched into the touch. "you’re a good girl for letting me see these beautiful things . . . so damn hot," choso bit down gently, a soft smile playing on his lips. choso knew the real remedy for your heat; a good, deep pounding from his throbbing cock. but yet . . . he wanted your breasts . . he wanted to give them his attention, worship them. you always knew he had a thing for titties . . . but tonight, he let his obsession shine through even more. your nipples peaked under the gentle pressure, and the sight sent a surge of arousal coursing through his body. “so pretty, baby . . . such pretty tits you have . .”
୨୧ KENTO NANAMI
nanami’s grip tightens on your arm, a low growl rumbling in his chest. he’s been waiting for this, for you. he’s been away from you for too long, a dreadful feeling of irritation was running through his veins and you noticed that. “you . . . okay, ken?” your husband sighs, hauling you onto his lap, the heat from his body seeping through you. you’re smaller than him, and he loves that. it makes him feel good. nanami’s hand cups your breast, kneading it roughly through the fabric. " . . . i’m just exhausted, princess," he cooed slowly, his voice thick with desire. “just . . . just wanna taste you tonight.” nanami had never imagined himself as the type to be so impulsive, but now here he was, unable to resist the pleasure that awaited him, the irresistible joy of feeling your pretty tits he loved so much against his hands.
“ . . . you’re beautiful.” nanami’s heart raced as he feasted on the sight of you infront of him, he was a man who had never allowed himself such indulgences, but now, in this moment, he found he could no longer resist. lowering his head, your husband tenderly kissed each of your swollen nipples, his hands gently massaging the flesh that surrounded them. your whines grew more insistent and adorable, prompting nanami to do more than he should. the sound of your whine was like music to his ears, sending a thrill down his spine as he leaned down . . . lips brushing against your other nipple, nibbling softly. “pardon me for my ignorance, sweetheart . . . i just needed you so much today. you’re so beautiful . . . it drives me absolutely crazy. these tits . . . so irresistible.”
୨୧ RYOMEN SUKUNA
sukuna reveled in the warmth of your body against his own. the feel of your soft yet delicious flesh beneath his fingertips sent electric shock down his spine. sukuna roughly squeezed one of your breasts, marveling at its firmness. “m—more please . .” you muttered against his chest, the curse’s large hand slid further down, fingers probing between your legs as the wetness he discovered sent a surge of excitement coursing through him. “. . . impatient girl.” the king of curses slowly pushed two fingers inside of you, feeling the tight warmth enveloping his fingers. “you’re a needy slut, you know that?” he scoffs, his fingers in and out of your pretty pussy gently. As he did so, he leaned in closer, “here you are . . . begging me for more. just wait ‘till i fuck this slutty pussy of yours ‘till all you see are stars,”
sukuna’s fingers worked expertly, chuckling lowly at your sweet whines while his other arms held your thighs, keeping your pretty legs spread for him “pathetic . . . ‘s like you’re easy to break.” his fingers danced further as his thumb circled your clit while the others plunged in and out of your cunt, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge. "just look at these tits . . .” with each syllable of his words he spoke, his digits gradually worked faster, latching his mouth right on your nipples . . . transitioning between sucking, nipping, teasing. the king of curses could feel the heat of your desire, and he wanted to be the one to quench it. “so fuckin’ small . . . even your pussy can’t take my fingers.”
୨୧ TOJI FUSHIGURO
"do’ya like this, doll?" toji’s way of relieving his stress is getting a small ‘lil squeeze of your tits ! or . . . perhaps more than that. his cruel gaze glanced down at your smaller stature, a cocky grin on his lips as he was practically looming over you. toji’s hand slid down your figure, digits dipping between your legs, stroking your wetness. “tell me you want this. tell me you want me." his hands roamed over your entire body, his touch confident and bold as he explored you willingly beneath his body. "damn, you're even more amazing than i imagined," he whispered into your ear, “ . . . might ‘hafta keep ya. don’t want other morons stealin’ ya, doll-face.” toji’s smirk widened as he gently stroked your hair, relishing in the sight of your precious expressions. it was intoxicating to him, this vulnerability that you endured had him in a chokehold.
“always wondered how these pretty tits tasted, baby. guess i should have a ‘lil taste myself tonight,” toji’s frame leaned even closer, looming over yours. “c’mon sweet girl, let daddy take care of you," he whispered, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh before he began to lick and nibble, lapping up the sweet taste of your skin . . his thumb circling with increasing speed as your moans grew louder, more desperate. “fuck, pretty-dolly . . . yer tits are drivin’ me crazy.” toji’s low voice rumbled against his chest, his free hand gripping your hip as he held you firmly in place. “c’mere. sit on my lap, pretty thing . i can give ya somethin’ else to moan and whine about.”
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© 6GUMI 2024. modifying 、translating 、sharing my works on other platforms 、or considering them as yours is strictly prohibited.
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auroracalisto · 2 months ago
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secrets and scars
movie!fiyero x gn!reader, 847 words summary: the reader has been scarred for some time now. fiyero discovers them and does something rather... unexpected. a/n: idk what this is. but like... yeah. hope it makes sense. i was gonna queue this and save it for later but i’m gonna go ahead and post it. i have a few queued posts for jonathan bailey characters in the coming weeks so. i’ll try to feed you all for the holidays. ♡ tw: reader has scars? no direct mention of where they are but it could be triggering. slight reference to sexual content, reader is naked for a hot minute but nothing graphic happens. you'll understand when you read.
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Scars. They littered your body, an unfortunate reminder of the past you barely escaped. It was as if your body didn't want you to forget.
You wished you could.
You're lost in your thoughts in one of the many archways of Shiz University, staring out at the blue sky above. Your fingers itch to touch your scars—to scratch, to peel them away. You didn't want the reminder of who you once were. You didn't want the reminder of what once happened to you.
In all of Oz, you'd give anything to be able to erase your scars.
Anything.
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It's a flurry of a night—confusing all around, and then somehow, Fiyero ends up in your dorm, kissing you, touching you, and by the love of Oz, how is he so quick with your clothing?
But before you can stop him, panic-stricken, he sees them. Your scars.
He's silent, wide eyed as he looked at them, lips parted as his eyes flicker from each mark on your skin.
He licked his lips a bit nervously, glancing up at you.
"You—are—" he stopped himself, seeing the panicked look on your face. "Oh, Y/n," he breathed out, moving to sit beside of you on your bed. He gently pressed a hand to the side of your face. "I'm sorry. I should have asked."
You slowly shook your head. "No. No, it's okay, I just—just didn't expect you to move so quickly. You, uh—"
"Surprised you, hm?" he softly asked. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before he found his voice once more. "I'm so sorry."
"Sorry? For what?"
He doesn't answer. Instead, his eyes fall to your scars, and you can tell he wants to ask you questions—how you got them, what happened, how long ago it happened.
Instead, he says something that takes you by surprise (because of course he did—Fiyero was filled with surprises, was he not?).
"They are beautiful."
"What?"
"Your scars."
You're silent for a moment. "My... my scars? Are beautiful?"
He smiled softly at you, taking ahold of your hand. He looked into your eyes. "Yes. Your scars are beautiful," he softly said. "I won't ask you about them. You can tell me when you decide you are ready, if you ever are."
Your eyes soften as you admire him from your spot on the bed. You feel so exposed—naked to the man not only physically but also emotionally. It was an odd feeling. A... welcomed feeling.
"May I touch them?" Fiyero softly asked.
"My scars?" you questioned for what seemed the hundreth time in the past few minutes.
"Yes. Your scars."
"You want to touch them?"
Fiyero looked at you, an incredulous look on his face. "Yes, Y/n. You can say no, it's quite alright. My feelings will not be hurt if you say no."
You watched him, swallowing nervously. "You... you're so odd," you softly said.
He snorted softly, a smile embracing his features. He leaned forward and kissed your cheek.
"Only for you."
You gave a small nod in return, and watched as he moved down the bed, focusing on the part of your body with your scars. His eyes flicker up to yours and he pressed a soft kiss to the puckered skin.
"Only for you," he repeated.
You feel flustered more than anything, looking away from him and his beautiful brown eyes.
How odd, indeed.
"I... I don't like them," you softly said.
"You do not like your scars?" he softly asked, a finger gently brushing against one of them. "Did something—"
"—I'll tell you. One day. Just..."
"Of course," he said. "I understand. But... Y/n, I meant what I said. They are beautiful."
You pursed your lips.
"They show how much strength you've had to survive, Y/n," he said, leaning forward and letting his lips connect with yours. "They're beautiful because they show me you've had to be brave. To be courageous in the face of such disaster. Your scars may be something you do not like, but do not wish them away."
You don't look at him, but you do not push him away.
"I do not know how you got them," he said, "and I am so sorry if what happened to you was... well, unsavory. But... they show such strength, Y/n."
"Strength is ridiculous and you know it," you muttered. You just want to rebuke his statement, as sweet as it may be.
He pecked your lips again.
"Perhaps that's not the best way to describe what it is, but I can't think of what would be better," he said. "This brain of mine doesn't want to work when the most beautiful person in all of Oz is letting me see their secrets."
Your heart pounded in your chest and you looked up at him, eyes softening.
"You are so odd," you repeated.
He snorted softly. "Yes. We've established this, Y/n. Thank you."
A smile quirked on your lips and you gently grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him in for another kiss.
"You're welcome."
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not-so-mundane-after-all · 2 months ago
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I know plenty of people have already made a version of the "Jinx is alive" theory post but I've also seen so many of you mourn her death that I decided to gather all the evidence and make another post, turning this theory into a fact.
Because Jinx is alive. It's not a speculation. It's literally there.
The first thing I'm going to mention are the context clues Jinx gives herself. First, the last thing the ghost of Silco tells her. I think the cycle only ends when you find the will to walk away. Then, the realization she comes to when Vi hugs her in the cell. You're never gonna give up on me, are you? What she tells Vi after she leaves her in that cell. You don't need to worry about me anymore. [...] And yes, her initial plan is to kill herself, because she thinks the only way for Vi to move on is for her to be gone. And Ekko gets there just in time to stop her but it looks like he doesn't convince her to abandon her plan, just change it.
And later, when she joins Vi in the final fight. What does she tell her? Still don't get it, huh, sis? I'm always with you. Even when we're worlds apart.
Everything that happens after is constructed specifically to let us and Vi believe that Jinx died. Until we get to this scene:
Caitlyn is studying the Hexgates designs.
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She's looking through the pages depicting the place where the final fight happened, specifically focusing on the air vent shafts, while toying with a monkey bomb head - the same monkey bomb that Jinx used in her supposed last monents.
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She looks down at the monkey...
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Watch the eyes. The realization hits her...
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And she smirks, knowing. Jinx used one of the air vents to escape before the explosion.
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I've studied the explosion frame by frame. First, a small yellow explosion goes off - Jinx sets off the monkey bomb.
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As it becomes bigger, she shoots out of there
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this is still the beginning of the blast when we can still see her, and the big boom that destroys everything starts 10 frames later
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Last context clue is a reference to the very first episode, which is clearly depicted in this gifset here, so instead of explaining, I'll just send you there to check for yourselves.
One thing that is speculation here is, how exactly did Caitlyn come into possession of the monkey bomb head? I doubt she found it there because it would have been turned to dust. And I'm thinking, Jinx took it with her and left it for Cait to find as a clue. She didn't want Vi to know but maybe she wanted Cait to figure it out. I imagine her sneaking into her house and maybe leaving it somewhere for Cait to find, like her desk or something. It gives Cait an idea, a gut feeling she needs to check, and that allows her to figure it out. Just like we are supposed to figure it out on our own.
Bottom line, Jinx is alive. She escaped the explosion through the air vents, then boarded the airship and left the city, convinced that the only way to give her sister a happy ending is to take herself out of the equation. The glitching closing shot saying The End in Jinx's colorful handwriting is a sign that she is telling us that this is where this story ends, like she's saying "don't look for me. It's over." That's also probably why we aren't shown what Caitlyn does with the information she now possesses.
I hope this helps take away from the grief 💙
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norikuna · 2 months ago
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HOLY GROUND — geto suguru
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prologue. → suguru geto is effortlessly stylish, and impossibly charming, and it's no wonder that everyone loves him. and you're absolutely crushing on him. and without fail, he takes you out each afternoon, after school, to a sweet cheesecake shop, saying that it'll be nice to grab a quick treat. but as a friend...right?
pairing. geto suguru x reader
warnings+. nothing, just sugary sweet fluff! reader has some self doubt and is a bit nervous, has a bit of a crush on ol' geto.
word count. 3.03k! song inspiration. holy ground — taylor swift
a/n. this post by @shokosmokes got me thinkin...mind u i love a good angst story but its nice to just have something sweet. like cheesecake 🍰 anyway this is short but i had fun writing this short lil piece <3 lmao this is the first time i think i've written a story without someone dying or losing a limb. not beta read, we die like warriors.
mp3. tonight i'm gonna dance, for all that we've been through. but i don't wanna dance, if i'm not dancing with you.
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you sat across from geto at a small table by the window, marvelling at how the warm sunlight spilled in and caught the edges of his profile, lighting his features up with the last rays of summer's sweetness. you can hear the usual bustle of life on the streets of tokyo, with cars roaring down narrow streets and voices floating on the air. but here, it's just you and him.
there's a single strand of his hair that's perpetually falling out of his knot, falling against his face in a way that makes your chest tighten. the light has caught the feathery edges of his raven hair, turning the black into deep shades of brown and caramel that you want to capture within your fingers.
"you're quiet today," geto says, and he's leaning back in his chair, legs stretched wide beneath the table as he always tends to do.
you're glad you both took the time to change out of your uniform, at the dorms. the loose charcoal top drapes well against his lean, sculpted frame. his faded black jeans and scuffed docs complete the look, as though he stepped out of a glossy streetwear magazine and into your hands. there's two silver bracelets stacked on his wrists, gleaming faintly and you watch as the faint dusting of dark hair on his arms look translucent in the afternoon light.
great, you've been staring. again. heat rushes to your face, and you quickly look down at the cracked screen of your phone, hoping he didn't notice how you were practically unthreading each stitch that held him together.
"just tired," you say. though the truth has nothing to do with exhaustion, and everything to do with him.
geto tilts his head, watching you, "long day?"
you trace your finger along that shattered screen as you flip your phone open, "something like that. you know how they train us at the end of the day."
his eyes narrow for a split second, like he's the one solving a puzzle right now, but he shakes his head, "let's just go and order now. 'm starving."
this bakery is known for its whimsical creations, and you stare at the menu above the counter, wondering how many crumpled bills you can scrounge up for this outing. geto's leaning against the glass case, shoving his hands in wide pockets as his bracelets clink softly at the movement.
his eyes skim over the vibrant slices of cheesecake on display, but you know he's not really looking at the desserts. he's just giving you time.
"what do you think?"
"i don’t know," you say, dragging out the words as you squint at the labels. "how am i supposed to pick between strawberry matcha swirl and honey lavender? they all sound so - " you pause, schooling your face as the woman behind the till gives you a side-eye, "complicated."
geto chuckles, a low, warm sound that feels like sunlight breaking through clouds. "why don’t you go for something fun? you always play it safe."
his words make you pause. maybe he’s right. maybe you do tend to pick the familiar, the predictable. but not today. today, you want something different — something bold. you glance at the menu again, and your eyes land on a slice that looks like a kaleidoscope of colour: tropical mango-passionfruit cheesecake with swirls of raspberry and a delicate coconut crust. it’s so bright and summery, it feels almost impossible not to smile just imagining yourself biting into it.
"that one," you say, pointing to it.
geto raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment, his lips curving into a faint smile. "and for me…" he looks over the options for barely a second before he says, "just plain vanilla."
"tch! vanilla?" you repeat "you’re so boring."
"hey, it's a classic."
you roll your eyes, but you are so endlessly fond of him that you're smiling.
a few moments later, you’re back at your table with your slices, and the tropical cheesecake looks as perfect as it did in the case. the vibrant layers of mango, passionfruit, and raspberry practically glow in the sunlight streaming through the window.
ignoring geto's snarky comment to breathe first before inhaling it, you take your first bite, the fork sinking into the creamy texture, and for a moment, you’re hopeful.
but then...ugh. the sweetness hits you all at once, overwhelming your senses. it’s not bad, but it’s...too much. too bright. too cloying. you hesitate, unsure how to admit the mistake of your overzealous choice.
geto notices immediately, because of course he does. he leans forward, resting his arms on the table, his bracelets catching the light again, "what's wrong?"
"nothing," you say quickly, but your face must give you away because he narrows his pretty eyes in suspicion.
"you don’t like it." it's not a question, he’s grinning now.
"it’s fine," you insist, though your tone lacks conviction, and you shovel another wide piece into your mouth.
geto doesn’t say anything. instead, he picks up his fork and, before you can protest, scoops a bite from your slice. you watch as his pink lips part, and he tastes it before pulling a face, "that's sweet enough to even knock out satoru."
"hey!" you protest, though you can’t help but laugh along with him, thinking of your white-haired friend bouncing off the walls. "it’s not that bad."
"you don’t have to eat it," geto says, sliding his plate toward you and nudging your slice away. "here. take mine."
"but you don’t even like sweet things."
geto shrugs, picking up your plate and taking another bite of your overly sweet cheesecake like it’s nothing, and you watch as a mild spasm twitches across his features, "it’s fine. it's no good if you sit here and suffer through something you don't like."
you try to pretend like your chest doesn't tighten at the gesture. he doesn’t even look at you when he says it, focusing instead on his plate.
you take a bite of his vanilla cheesecake, and it’s perfect — not too sweet, just creamy and subtle enough to make you sigh in relief, "where would i be without you?" you hope that the teasing in your voice is enough to smooth over the cracks in your beating heart.
geto glances up at you then, his violet eyes meeting yours, and there’s something unguarded in his expression, something raw and warm and so achingly tender it makes your pulse skip, "i could say the same for you," he says quietly, almost as if the words weren’t meant to be heard, and far too quietly for something as trivial as an afternoon date in a café.
there's a warmth pooling in your cheeks, making your face hurt. and your thoughts loop back to the same quiet ache that you've carried for a few months now, like a sealed and perfumed love letter carried in your pocket.
every time he takes you out after class, you tell yourself, this is it. this is when i'll say it. haven't you rehearsed the words in your head, simple and clear each time?
i like you. i actually really like you a lot, suguru geto.
and every time, like clockwork, the words dissolve on your tongue, swallowed by the noise of your own uncertainty. it is hardly the case that geto isn't kind nor attentive. it's not that he's distant or cold, entirely the opposite.
if anything, he always seems...present.
but then you think about how he walks through the school hallways with that same quiet storm of charisma and charm, how his laughter draws people to him like moths to a flame, boys and girls alike.
in contrast, gojo satoru is far too much for many. there are many who choose to take a step back from him, away from the whirlwind and electrifying storm that is the six-eyes user.
but everyone wants a piece of geto's world, to be his friend or a confident, or something.
and you, what are you? just another friend he takes out after school? someone he doesn't mind spending time with when the day winds down?
your heart is once again acquainted with a knot of longing and fear that’s become far too familiar. geto doesn’t look like someone who would hesitate. he looks like someone who would know exactly what to say, exactly what to do, without second-guessing himself.
and yet, every time you’re with him, you catch these small moments of quiet — when his gaze lingers just a fraction too long, or when he says your name like it’s heavier than it should be. those moments make you wonder. what if…?
and as if he's reading your thoughts, geto shifts forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table now, and that single loose strand of hair moves with him, falling further into his face.
"something’s on your mind," he says, his pretty eyes searching yours. there’s a teasing edge to his tone, but it’s tempered with genuine curiosity, "you can tell me, you know."
you can’t help but wonder — how are you supposed to tell him that he’s the one taking up all the space in your mind? that his voice is the soundtrack to your thoughts, his smile the thing you find yourself chasing in every quiet moment?
instead, you give a small shrug, "maybe i’m just distracted."
"by what?" he presses, leaning just slightly closer, the teasing note in his voice softening into something warmer, a sincere question.
you hesitate, and you want to tell him the truth, but it feels too big, too fragile to let out into the open and so you blunder around, "maybe it’s the cheesecake," you say instead, your voice light, though the thrum of your pulse is anything but, "vanilla really is a classic."
smooth. utahime is going to be so disappointed in you. you know that she's tired of hearing about your crush by now, twirling the ribbon in her hair as she groans each time you tell her that you think you're going to pack your bags and move countries away from geto.
but now geto laughs softly, and the sound wraps around you like warmth, like home, "guess i picked the right place, then."
"you always do." your fingers brush against the cool porcelain of your plate, though you barely notice. your heart is often a traitor to your rational peace of mind, and your attention is all on him, on the way his smile lingers, softer now, the edges of his usually confident expression unraveling into something more tentative.
for a moment, geto's quiet, his gaze falling to his hands. his fingers toy with one of the silver rings on his right hand, twisting it in slow circles. It’s a small, nervous gesture, and it catches you off guard — suguru geto is never nervous.
the silence stretches in the late afternoon light, but then geto shifts in his seat, leaning forward slightly, his hands fiddling with the silver rings stacked on his fingers. the movement catches your attention, and when you glance up, you notice something different about him. the easy confidence that seems to follow him like a second shadow is nowhere to be seen. instead, his jaw is tight, his shoulders tense, and there’s a flicker of something nervous in the way his fingers twist the largest ring around and around.
he's looking at you, meeting your gaze, and you’re startled by the uncharacteristic seriousness in his eyes.
"hey," he says, his voice quieter than usual, a touch rough around the edges.
"yeah?"
geto exhales slowly, his lips pressing into a line before he speaks again.
"okay, look. i -” he pauses, running a hand through his hair, dislodging the tie holding his hair together, so choppy, dark locks fall around his shoulders. you school your face well enough so you don't look like you've been punched in the gut by cupid.
"i like you," he says finally, his words tumbling out in a rush, like they’ve been bottled up for too long, "i’ve liked you for a while now. and - and i’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you without, like… messing everything up."
your breath catches, the words landing like a firework in the quiet space between you. geto likes you? he likes you?
geto keeps going, as if he’s afraid to lose his nerve.
"i asked gojo for advice — stupid, i know, don't make that face — and he told me to just… keep taking you out and hope you’d get the hint. said that you'd realise eventually," and one of the strongest jujutsu sorcerers you know groans, covering his face briefly with one hand, as if he's embarrassed.
"which was a terrible plan because i'm awful at hints, and apparently, so is he, considering he’s never had a girlfriend in his life."
you blink, the shock giving way to a surprised laugh, the sound spilling out before you can stop it.
"wait — gojo? he's the one who gave you advice? he doesn’t even know the first thing about relationships! do you remember the time that he went on one date, and got dumped the next day for trying to buy dinner out of the vending machine."
"i know!" geto says, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation, but there’s a small, embarrassed smile tugging at his lips now, "i know it was a bad idea. i just wanted to tell you, straight up. but I didn’t know what else to do, okay? i didn’t want to screw this up."
you fall silent at that, your laughter fading as the weight of his words sinks in. he's looking at you now, his expression open and raw in a way that makes your chest ache.
"i just — i want to do this right," he says softly, his voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. "i want to be your boyfriend. properly. i want to take you out, and to be able to call you mine, and — i don’t know — do all the cheesy stuff couples do."
his hand brushes the back of his neck, his eyes dropping to the table for a moment before flicking back to yours, "but if that’s weird, or if you don’t feel the same, it’s okay. you don’t have to say yes. promise i won't cry in front of you."
Your heart is pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it, a wild, dizzying rhythm that drowns out everything else. You stare at him, your mind struggling to catch up with what he’s just said, with the fact that he likes you. geto—cool, effortlessly charming geto—wants to be your boyfriend.
"wait," you manage finally, your voice shaky with disbelief. "you… like me? like, you really like me?"
geto laughs softly, though there’s still a nervous edge to it. "yeah, i really do. it's probably stupidly obvious by now, isn’t it? i mean, everyone said it was so obvious, and shoko said you already knew."
you shake your head, bewildered. "no! i mean, yes — but no! i just thought you only saw me as a friend. i never thought — "
you stop yourself, realising you’re rambling, and take a deep breath. then, before you can overthink it or possibly faint, you say, "yes."
geto's thin brows furrow slightly. "yes?"
"yeah," you repeat, a smile breaking across your face. "i'd really like that. i do want to go out with you, suguru."
relief washes over his features, followed by a grin so genuine and bright it leaves you breathless. for a moment, he just stares at you, his eyes warm and full of something you can’t quite name, something that makes you feel like the centre of the universe.
"oh my god, thank god, you don't even know, i was actually going to have a heart attack..." he mutters, almost to himself, before he blinks, like he's forgetting something. then, with an almost comical jolt of realisation, he clears his throat.
"right," he says, the word drawn out, as if he’s trying to ground himself. "i need to pay for the tab."
you laugh nervously, still reeling from everything that’s just happened, and shake your head quickly, thinking back to the meagre bills in your pocket. "oh, it’s okay! i can pay for my own -"
but geto's head snaps up at that, and he fixes you with a look so incredulous, so utterly affronted, that it startles you into silence.
"no way," he says, his voice firm but laced with humour and he leans forward slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a glimmer of warmth that sends your heart racing all over again, "i’m your boyfriend now. you really think I’m going to let you pay?"
it's unfamiliar and thrilling all at once. your cheeks burn, and you can’t stop the laugh that escapes you, a mix of delight and disbelief.
"unbelievable," you say, shaking your head, but there’s no real protest in your voice.
geto grins, the expression crooked and self-assured in a way that’s so unmistakably him, and it takes your breath away. then, without breaking eye contact, he reaches across the table, his hand brushing against yours before his fingers gently curl around them.
it's such a simple gesture, but it feels monumental, like the air around you shifts in response. his hand is warm, slightly calloused at the fingertips, and the way his thumb grazes over your knuckles sends a quiet thrill through you.
you glance down at your joined hands, unable to stop the soft, surprised smile that spreads across your face. when you look back up, geto is watching you, his expression open and unguarded, as if he’s memorising every detail of this moment.
"so," he says quietly, his voice softer now, "is this the part where you say you’re going to let me spoil you a little?"
you laugh again, your thumb brushing over the back of his hand in return. "i guess i don’t really have a choice now, do i?"
his smile widens, and there’s a faint pink tint to his cheeks that makes your heart ache with how much you like him.
"nope," he says, his tone teasing but earnest. "you really don’t."
and as you sit there, your hand in geto's, surrounded by the golden light and the lingering sweetness of cheesecake, you think that maybe — just maybe — this is what happiness feels like.
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touyasdoll · 1 year ago
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Revered
pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader
word count: 1k
warnings: sex with feelings, alcohol, you've both been drinking, friends to lovers, he comes across a little possessive, dacryphilia if you squint, body worship, unprotected sex, let me know if I missed any ❤️
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“Do your ears work, princess? Can you hear that?” He sneers, breath tickling the crook of your neck before he pushes himself up, biceps flexing beautifully as he looms over you.
He’s undoubtedly referring to the lewd, loud sounds manifesting between the two of you. It's absolutely intoxicating, just like his touch. You're already tipsy, but now you are drunk on what this man is doing to you.
“This is what pussy is supposed to sound like when you’re getting fucked.”
You aren't quite sure how you ended up here. With Katsuki fucking Bakugou of all people plunging his cock in and out of you while you cling to his strong arms for dear life.
You blame it on the alcohol. That's the only excuse you can think of to explain why he drew closer to you on the couch, hands and lips exploring places that your dear friend had never ventured to touch before.
Why the glasses you were sipping out of landed on the coffee tabe and he somehow wound up on top of you, his searing kiss stealing the very air from your lungs. Why your clothes lay discarded and you're now laid bare for him, limbs tangled up as sweat collects on both of your brows as your bodies move in tandem, seeking sweet, sweet pleasure.
"That pathetic excuse of a man you called a boyfriend never made you feel like this, did he?" He asks as he grabs your jaw, his touch still so gentle, even as his tone grows more desperate. "Did he?"
"Never," you reply, breathless and barely able to form the words as you lose yourself in the delirium.
Katsuki was definitely more imposing than the man who'd dumped you. He'd stood you up for the last time and it was Katsuki who'd come to comfort you, joining you in your libations as you drowned your sorrows over a man who was never worth your time to begin with.
"That's what I fucking thought," he says as a handsome smirk spreads across his face.
His expression is almost devious. It's dark and full of salascious promise as his strokes grow longer. Slower. Deeper.
It feels as if he's nearly penetrating your lungs the way that head of his cock drags against your pulsating walls and knocks against your cervix, kissing it with each pass of his hips, never giving you the chance to truly breathe as his body drives into yours with immense purpose. Like he has something to prove.
Because he does.
He's watched and he's waited. Too many men have come along and broken your heart. Used your body and never taken proper care of your heart, but that's over now.
As he peers down at your perfect form, he makes a promise to himself and to you. His hands glide along your body, worshipping every curve and dip. His mouth travels along your neck, your breasts, your jaw before they claim your mouth again.
It's heated, though that could just be the booze. It must be, you tell yourself, but no one has ever kissed you like this before. Like they mean it. Like they need it to survive. Like they need you.
"You are never going to be left wanting again, beautiful. I won't let it happen," he breathes out, his lips moving against yours before they swallow you whole again.
Your tongues tangle and you kiss him back despite how your lungs burn and your body tenses, pulled taut like the strings of an instrument that he has spent years mastering and he's performing a fucking symphony right now. To a crowd that only consists of you.
"You deserve to be pleasured. Treasured. Fucking revered," he growls through grit teeth, picking up the pace with his strokes as his hands works into your hair, cradling you with care like the prize he obviously thinks that you are.
"Katsuki," you gasp, a frantic energy swelling inside of you as the song he's crafting swells to a triumphant crescendo. "I-I'm gonna cum."
"Yes you are. You're going to cum all over my fucking cock. Like you should've been doing all this time. You are mine now. No one elses," he pants, sweat dripping from his face onto your breasts to glide down your torso. "I finally have you and I'm not letting you go. I've got you, gorgeous. Cum for me."
You hear his words, but they're drowned out by the sound of someone screaming. Of you, screaming. Howling with unrestrained need as the dam bursts and you break for him, gushing around his thick cock as it keeps on plunging in and out, nearly driving you mad.
"Katsuki!" You cry, literally, as tears prick your eyes, a warm wetness sliding over your cheeks when your eyes squeeze shut and you cling tighter to him, digging your nails into the fibers of his muscles.
"Fuck," he groans, a guttural noise echoing around your living room as his hot seed spills from him and into you, making the slick mess between your thighs a practical crime sense of passion and pure need.
His hips keep moving, drawing out the sinful noises the both of you trade as your respective highs peak and gradually begin to fade away, leaving you a weak, shaking mess beneath him.
"I love you," he confesses with the last of the oxygen in his lungs, his nose nuzzling against the crook of you neck as he lays his body on top of yours.
It's all encompassing. His presence. His words. His devotion. It feels like a safety blanket, bundling you up in all the things that you were searching for all along when it was right here in front of you the whole time.
"I love you too, Katsuki," you whisper the words you'd left unspoken for far too long against his temple.
He smiles against your skin. He's wrung dry after offering everything up to you, but your words renew him, giving him the strength to push up and ghost his fingertips along your cheek as his crimson eyes bore into your own.
"You will never want again. I'll take care of you from now on," he promises, catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he draws you in to another kiss.
This one is slow, sweet, and tender. It's a vow that he will never break.
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