#like even when he was Caesar’s man

[sforzesco]

Is mark Antony the one who kneels or is he the one that people kneel before ?

both? like, he was Caesar’s dog, but he does not kneel before Caesar forever, and the proscriptions were a pretty clear warning light for how things would look under the new regime. Antony didn’t stop there, either: he was gunning for king of the world when he chose Cleopatra.

either way, knees or not, his teeth are sharp, look away from him at your own peril

[katabay]

bayek and hepzefa, checking out some ruins, talking about stuff.

ngl my favorite detail about origins is that if you revisit siwa after narrative events, bayek will tell hepzefa about things he's been up to :')

[navree]

"cleopatra movie starring zendaya as cleopatra and timothee chalamet as octavian" i was having a good day and now i have an anger headache

[rissouu]

I KNOW IM YOUR FAVORITE, gojo satoru ཐི♡ཋྀ

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ in which: he may be your ex, but that doesn’t mean you can just move on.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ wc: 2.9k words.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ warnings: lots of angst, dark content (not really), sexual content, pussy!drunk gojo, stalker!gojo, heavy possessiveness, mentions of violence, pet names, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, baby trapping (but y/n wants it), gojo sucks ur feet for literally 1 second, yandere gojo (ehh), cunnilingus, overstimulation, toxic!gojo (barely), ex!gojo, and etc.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ notes: okay look this shit is very freaky, and it’s loosely based on the song hold me down by daniel caesar! and gojo is a stalker y’all, this is your only warning babes.. please leave now if you’re uncomfy! he is kinda crazy in this but in a lovingly way.. y’know? not proofread either so not too much on me!

when you walked into your apartment you couldn’t help the exaggerated giggles you let out. it was embarrassing actually, acting like a school girl in junior high all over again. the reason for your happiness was pretty simple— you just had your first date.

your first date since you broke up with your ex, gojo.

that was about a year ago now.. a year since you and the love of your life parted ways. up until recently you’ve never had the guts to put yourself out there again, always scared that one day you’ll just end up hurt again.

but your whole view on dating changed when you met this guy at a grocery store. he offered to pay for your entire cart, and it was well over $300 worth. you found the gesture sweet, and from there you two exchanged numbers.

he was no gojo of course, but you had to move on at some point. it’s already been a year, if gojo didn’t reach out yet, then maybe that meant he’d moved on too.

well.. so you thought.

you were so caught up in the excitement from how well your date went, you barely even realized you were still in pitch black.

“fuck i got so distracted i forgot to turn the lights on.” you chuckled to yourself, flipping the light switch on and hanging your purse on the door.

you didn’t know why but you had a feeling you weren’t alone, like someone was watching you— or better yet breathing right down your neck.

the house was eerily quiet, so quiet you could hear the drop of a pen. but something felt off about your apartment, and you were never one to ignore your instincts.

just as you were about to retreat and run out the door, a familiar voice had you stopping in your tracks.

no. fucking. way.

“where were you?” the achingly familiar man smiled, trying his best to hide the dangerous aura oozing from his body. he knew exactly where you were, and always have. you didn’t know it yet— but he’d been watching you for a while now. ever since you dumped him which was more than a year ago now.

technically it was stalking.. but he didn’t like to call it that. in his mind, he was more of a guardian angel�� just making sure you’re okay and still breathing.

how else would he check on you since you blocked him on everything else?

the white haired man was sitting on your couch with his head tilted— clearly waiting for an answer although he already knew where you were to begin with. it was pretty easy to keep tabs on you.

you stared at him, a small frown forming across your face. you were feeling weak in the knees. the first thing you wanted to do was jump on him and tell him how much you missed him.

but you knew you couldn’t do that, not anymore. the two of you just didn’t go together, or at least that’s how you felt a year ago. you couldn’t get back with him, you wouldn’t. no matter how much it hurt.. it was better than dealing with his unstability.

“what are you doing in my house, gojo?” you folded your arms— staring back at him with the same expression he was giving you. that’s what he loved about you, you weren’t easy.

with the blink of an eye, he was up from the couch and coming closer towards you. the man easily towered over you so to say he was intimidating was an understatement.

instead of answering your question he just stared at you with a blank expression— and you did the same exact thing. this was common with you two, just staring at each other in silence until one of you dared to speak up.

about five minutes later, gojo finally cracked. you silently praised yourself for being able to last longer than him.

with a low chuckle, he shook his head— slightly licking over his lips. “i think im the one asking the questions here, hm? so answer me.”

you scoffed at his arrogance, seems like some things just never change. “i was on a date if you must know, now get the hell out of my house.”

as soon as you got your words out he couldn’t help but to laugh. honestly, gojo didn’t even know what was so funny, maybe it was the way you said it.. you really thought you held some type of authority?

“and now you’re laughing at me? what’s so funny?”

that only made him laugh more, truth be told gojo wasn’t even trying to laugh, but you trying to be somewhat “mean” was taking him out because you were nothing like that.

you were one of the kindest people he’d ever met, so this little act you had on was amusing to him.

“shit, im sorry!” he clutched his stomach, letting one last chuckle out before continuing. “it’s just.. you really think im falling for this little act of yours?”

your face was quick to scrunch up— finding every bit of his words disrespectful. but it was gojo, so what could you really expect? his bluntness would probably be the death of him.

“excuse me? need i remind you, we are not together anymore gojo!” your voice came out a lot shakier than you’d hoped for it to. what the hell was going on with you?

“well clearly i know that, or else i’d go and kill that fucker you were out with tonight.”

throwing your hands in the air you muttered a strand of curse words, it’s impossible to get through to someone as hard-headed as him. “please just see yourself out.”

before he could respond, you walked off toward your room. you didn’t have the energy to deal with him or his childish antics, he’d already managed to ruin your entire mood. all this did was remind you why you keep your heart locked away— because of arrogant assholes like him.

“there’s no need to be rude, y’know? i just wanna talk to my favorite girl.” gojo followed you to your room— just like you knew he would. god, he’s so annoying.

it looked the exact same as the last time he was here except for the empty wall where the pictures of him used to hang. he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his chest heavy, and heart pang in sorrow. could you really have been done with him for good this time?

“whatever, just don’t get on my bed.. i don’t know where you’ve been.”

‘stalking you’ he chuckled to himself before completely disregarding your request, and plopping down on your bed anyways.

you decided not to scold him for doing exactly what you said not to do. that’s just who gojo was, no one could boss a man like him around.

you weren’t even being serious either. in hindsight, you really did enjoy having him around. as much as you hated to admit it.. it reminded you of the old times, when it was just you and him against the whole world.

“i missed you, y’know? you just up and left without a word.. and next thing i know im blocked.” even though he tried to hide it you could hear the pain in his voice. losing you was like losing a piece of him too, he couldn’t stand it. he couldn’t stand the way you made him feel.

the only reason the man was able to keep it together was because he was watching you, ensuring you weren’t completely out of his life.

it sounded crazy. hell— it was crazy, but when it came to you he’d do anything.

“i know.. & im sorry for the way i handled that. i just felt like we needed to move on, try new things…”

“i don’t want to try new things!” he scowled, quickly sitting up from the bed to face you. “i want you.. just you. that’s all i’ve ever wanted.”

the air was thick, and the room felt like it was caving in. your body was practically on fire listening to him say the words you’d been craving to hear.

“and about that date of yours..” he cooed, running his hands up your thighs and slowly spreading them. “we won’t be worrying about him anymore, will we?”

that little date was never a threat to gojo to begin with. both you and him knew that, but he took manners into his own hands just to mark his territory.

gojo made sure to corner the poor guy as soon as your date was over, and needless to say.. a few threats were all it took. you should be happy he didn’t do worse, it ran across his mind to kill the poor guy at first.

“i..if we do this then no more bullshit okay?” your soft hands gripped his chin as you forced his beautiful blue eyes to meet yours. “none of that childish stuff this time. we’re both grown so we need to act like it, we’ve had a whole year to fix ourselves.”

every time the two of you got back together it turned into complete chaos. gojo wasn’t the best man out there, and you weren’t the best woman. both of you had your own flaws regardless, but you two needed each other.

that was well established the first 10 times you guys broke up, and unsurprisingly you always ended up back in each other’s skin.

gojo’s gaze on you was heavy, almost as if he was trying to study your every breath and blink. all of the dumb, childish expressions on his face from before were far gone.

“yes princess, whatever you want.” he softly spoke as he sunk his head into the skin of your stomach, littering you with soft kisses. “i’ll do whatever you want..”

gojo spoke so gently— his voice softer than ever as he pushed you on your back, wrapping your legs around his shoulders.

you stared at him intently, waiting to see what he would do next. one thing about gojo was he always had something up his sleeve, and part of you knew where this was headed.

when his rough hands gripped the waistband of your flimsy skirt, you didn’t complain. actually you found yourself wanting more, longing for more.

“y’gonna let me get a taste baby? missed her s’much,” soft lips trailed up your thigh— leaving small bite imprints on the flesh. this was his way of staking his claim on you, marking you as his and only his.

you couldn’t stop the shaky sigh that fell from your lips, or the silent nod you gave to your ex-boyfriend for him to continue.

the grin that spread across his face was taunting almost, and intimidating. when that skirt of yours was out of the way, gojo moved on to the black-lace panties. his personal favorite.

“so what, you wearin’ these for other people now?” the fucking nerve of you, he couldn’t believe this. to stoop that low.. well that just won’t do. it seems like he had a few things to correct now that he was back. “fuckin’ answer me. be a good girl for me, yeah?”

your eyes locked with his and all you saw was silent fury, you could tell he was pissed. “not wearing them for anybody toru. just didn’t have any clean ones,”

a lazy grin covered his face at the remembrance of his old nickname, the way it fell from your lips so softly always managed to send heat straight to his dick.

he finally got his girl back.

faint kisses to your cunt had your legs shaking in anticipation— and the soft gasp that left your lips did nothing but egg gojo on as his tongue met your aching clit.

“pussy’s still fuckin’ pretty as ever,” with a low voice his eyes were closed shut, in hopes to savor every last bit of you. when his hands came up to your thighs he couldn’t resist the urge to spread them even further.

the man wanted to explore every inch of you since it’s been so long. so so long since he’s spent some personal time with that pretty pussy of yours.

“w..wait- fuck toru!” you whined when his lips found their way to your pulsing clit, folding his tongue up and down the gooey slit.

his assault to your pussy didn’t stop there. next his thumb was sliding down your sticky folds, not stopping until it was past your tight walls.

your mouth fell open at the intrusion. his thumb wasn’t long but it was thick, causing a bigger stretch than you’d expected.

“so good. taste’s s’good princess,” gojo mindlessly babbled, every word sending vibrations straight to your pussy.

gojo felt like he was out of his body. out of his mind, and he hadn’t even been inside you yet. just what the fuck were you doing to him?

finally fed up with the throbbing ache in his pants he latched onto your clit for a third time, giving it one last kiss before pulling away.

the man couldn’t wait any longer— he needed to be inside you, and he needed it now. before you knew it he was sliding off his sweats and everything underneath it, leaving him completely exposed.

your pussy throbbed just from the sight of him.. you didn’t know how much longer you could wait either.

“don’t worry mama, im ready for ya’.” a low chuckle left his throat when he saw you were just as desperate as him. “you ready for me?”

his blue eyes met your low ones when he slapped his tip against your folds. next he was sliding inside of your pulsing hole with ease, forcing your mouth open.

“o..oh my gosh!“ you winced at the familiar stretch, your walls involuntarily clenched around his dick— trying to push him out.

“n..no- fuck. none of that, y’hear me?” gojo whimpered at the feel of being squeezed, he couldn’t even move you were squeezing him so tight.

the man hovered over you, lips grazing your ear as he coaxed you. “let me in baby, you can do it. i know you can,” he whispered, wrapping his hand around your neck and resting it there.

his words of encouragement had you opening up quicker than he expected, and with every second he was inching deeper into your pussy. gojo felt like he was in a dream— or better yet, on cloud 9. after all that time you still feel the exact same, heavenly.

his strokes were gentle at first, but they sped up when he realized how long he was away from you. a whole year.. never again.

“n..never ever gonna let you keep this shit from me again.” gojo groaned with an edge in his voice that you couldn’t recognize.

your shaky hands wasted no time sliding under his shirt, feeling on the happy trail that covered his v-line. “not gonna take it away toru, ‘s all yours!”

gojo grinned at your words as he pressed onto your lower stomach. with his free hand he gripped onto the back of your thighs and brung your freshly done feet up to his mouth.

his lips wrapped around your toe— eyes locking with yours as he sucked on it. his strokes only got deeper, and you whimpered at all the different sensations at once.

“‘m not gonna pull out,” he admitted as he switched from sucking to leaving small kisses on your foot. “gonna cum so deep in this pretty pussy. never gonna leave me again.”

you were so out of it. drool everywhere, hair messy, tear stained cheeks.. anything gojo said went in one ear and out the other. the man could do whatever, you didn’t care.

“mm yes, don’t pull out. want it s’bad, fill me up please!” small whines filled your throat when you felt a familiar pressure in your abdomen, your pussy wrapping around him even tighter than before. how was this even possible?

gojo’s pace got faster, strokes sloppier.. he was slowly but surely losing all the sense of control he once had before. “f..fuckk ‘m gonna cum toru, so close!”

you gasped when his thumb flicked your clit, looking up at the blue eyes that never left your frame. your legs shook in overstimulation and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold it in.

“let it out mama, you’re okay. gimme all of it- shit.” he hissed as his dick twitched at how tight you were squeezing. “fuck fuck fuck, you’re gonna be such a pretty mama. s..such a pretty wifey, all f’me.”

you threw your head back as chills covered your entire body. the both of you were completely out of touch with reality, not caring about anything but the feeling of one another.

“‘m cumming toru! mhmm ‘m cumming,” you exclaimed, bringing your hand to his stomach. it wasn’t long before the built-up pit in your stomach finally snapped, coating his dick in a ring of your juices.

gojo was close behind you, a whimpering mess as his stomach tightened. before he knew it he was filling you up— spilling his load inside of you, not a drop to be wasted.

“f..fuck yeah. take it mama, it’s all yours. all for you.. gotta give you everything.” he chanted praises as he gave you one last stroke, pushing his cum even deeper into you where it belonged.

your voice was shaky when he called you, so shaky that at first you thought you wouldn’t be able to respond. but even so, you did.

“you’re never leaving me again, understand?” the edge in his voice was back, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your stomach do flips.

“yes toru, i understand.”

if there’s anything you learned from this at all.. it’s that you could never leave a man like gojo satoru.

©rissouu 2025 (this one’s for dulce y’all so thank her, it took me forever *sigh*)

[rowarn]

there is not a single man in 141 who doesn't make out with your pussy btw. not anonymous i die like caesar

SO TRUE !!!

and they've all got different styles !!!!!

simon is meticulous and controlling. he pins you down, spreads your legs open and EATS. he knows exactly what he's doing and how to use his tongue. he uses his fingers in combination, sometimes he ducks you with his fingers while he sucks your clit sometimes he pinches and rolls your clit under his fingers while he fucks you with his tongue. but make no mistake you will only take what he is WILLING to give you, you won't be greedy and take from him. he's only willing to give if you're good for him!! he's also not afraid to punish you by depriving you of his tongue because he's so good with it that you crave it. so it's best to just behave and let him do as he pleases <3

soap is sloppy and intense. he wants you to sit on his face so he can drown in your cum. uses his whole mouth and face when he eats pussy. engulfs your pussy whole with his mouth, slobbers all over your clit and licks his tongue into your hole to taste everything you've got. you don't even need to be greedy with him because he's already giving you whatever you could possibly want. all you can do it lay there and take it, moaning and twitching as he rips orgasm after orgasm right from your little cunt. doesn't really use his fingers but he doesn't need to because that devious mouth does ALL the work either of you need !!!

kyle is generous and sweet. eating you out is a whole event for this man. it's sometimes just the main event. he's not selfish, he doesn't even need to fuck you to feel good. your pleasure is always at the forefront of his mind. his top priority. hell, he'll light some candles, sit with you in the bath, caressing you and kissing you, working you up and teasing you. all so when he's finally got you spread on the bed, you're needy and pliant for him. he focuses on your clit, loves to worship that little bud because he knows that's where it feels best for you. but he'll follow any of your cues; if you need more deeper pleasure, he'll give you his fingers. if you want it sloppy he'll fuck you with his tongue. you can ride his face if you ask nicely but he prefers to have you laid back, spread open and relaxed so he can just worship you. will eat you until you're cumming as many times as you need. he doesn't care if he's there for 2 hours, jaw aching - if you want him there, he's staying. he is born to please and worship. he's sweet with his words too, telling you how pretty and soft you are, how good you taste, how gorgeous you look cumming for him. when he starts to get real fucked out he started begging into your pussy, begging for you to cum while his voice breaks and he humps the bed, boxers messy with cum he'd already spilled all over himself.

[littledozerdraws]

fic to accompany the art by the amazing @drawsaurus

He had already killed for the Emperors; but this was no debut at some preening Senator’s bawdy-house. When it was already past dusk, Hanno was led out in chains from the Colosseum stables, through a dank alleyway buried in the backstreets of the slums; down, down, into the labyrinthine bowels of the city, endless stone tunnels rank and musty with disuse. The skeleton of a rat crunched under his heel like an autumn leaf. He half assumed that he trudged to his death, and found it did not much bother him. 

But when, at last, the floor underfoot sloped upwards and turned to stairs, Hanno found that he had emerged not into a slaughterhouse, but into the soft, warm candlelight and velvet drapery of the imperial palace. Viggo handed him off to an elegant but harried house slave, no word, but a sneer of knowing disdain. 

Hanno gave him nothing back. He knew that he would kill that man one day. He could be patient.

The slave had the high, soft voice and smooth hands of a eunuch. “I should have liked a day to school you in the proper etiquette,” he said, unhappy, as they moved quickly through more corridors, more twists and turns. Hanno felt like he had no sense at all of where he was in the City; he could have been miles outside it were it not for the two-headed crest of the Emperors that adorned the walls. “But there is little time. I shall tell you the basics. You must look neither Caesar in the eye, nor address them unbidden. Your little trick at Senator Thraex’s has the court all a-gossip, but you must keep your station henceforth. I know you understand Latin,” he said curtly, when Hanno made no response. “You will do as you are commanded, no more or less.”

Still Hanno said nothing. 

Perhaps the eunuch wanted to shock some kind of reaction out of him. “Emperor Geta will direct the proceedings,” he said, cold. “Emperor Caracalla likes to be fucked as a woman. You will be expected to perform.”

“...Macrinus sends me here to fight.”

The eunuch looked him over. “I see they did not bathe you at the stables,” he sniffed. “Your musk is not unpleasant, at least.”

“You have me mistaken.”

They stopped abruptly, before a fresco that Hanno could not make out in the low light. He could tell, at least, it was ostentatious. A door was cut through the wall that gave gently when pushed. The house slave gave him a shallow bow, almost a mockery, and indicated that he should enter. “Do not misunderstand,” he said, quieter even than before. His superiority dropped away from a moment; this felt like a freely given warning. “This may seem a private audience, but the Praetorian Guard have many ears and quick swords. Perform your duty well, and you will leave here a man entire. Do not make poor decisions, Poet.”

The Emperors had called him that.

Before the night was out, they would name him so again, and again, and again.

[chibinasuu]

Promises | Law x Reader

Summary: Law breaks the news to the Heart Pirates that he's going on a solo mission to Punk Hazard. Tags: sfw, angst-to-fluff, mutual pining, confession, first kiss, slight spoiler for punk hazard/dressrosa/zou, GN but written with F!reader in mind, no use of y/n

The dining hall of the Polar Tang was so silent you could hear a pin drop. 

Every member of the Heart Pirates was frozen in place. No one had the nerve to breathe a single word against the Captain’s orders, despite the strong urge to protest visible in their clenched jaws and fists.  

“Sail on to Zou without me.”

The Captain’s final sentence rang again and again in your head. The directive was straightforward and indisputable, but you just couldn’t wrap your mind around what he was asking his crew to do. 

You felt a pressure slowly building in your chest, a lump forming in your throat. An avalanche of emotions washed over you in quick succession, and you recoiled when you realized that the strongest was a feeling of betrayal.

Was he seriously telling his crew to leave him behind? Did he not trust you all? What good was a crew without its captain and a captain without its crew?

The more rational part of your brain eventually took over and you let yourself fall into a reluctant acceptance. Your Captain was a determined man. Once he had put his mind on something, there was nothing anyone could say that could change his decision. 

Law must have had his reasons for sending you all away to Zou while he confronted Caesar Clown by himself. You had your suspicions of said reasons, and you were screaming on the inside, begging him to not do this alone – to actually allow himself to depend on his crew for once. But, you kept your mouth shut, just like everyone else. 

You and Law had gotten close over the years since you joined the Heart Pirates, way back when it was a small band of six. Aside from his three childhood friends, you knew him more than anyone else on this submarine.

However, before all that, he was your Captain first, and you have always held a deep respect for his authority. The only thing you could do right now, as his crew member, was to follow his orders. As a friend, though, you could feel your heart clenching with immense worry for him. 

Law’s expression was stern and unyielding. He was holding his hat in his hands, leaving his eyes bare as he stared down his crew, daring them to voice an objection to his command. 

A sniffle broke the silence, and you looked to your right to find Bepo quivering as he tried to hold back his tears. You rubbed your palm softly against his back to console him, despite your being in emotional turmoil yourself.

You knew Law had probably told Bepo about the plan beforehand, seeing as he was one of the Captain’s closest confidants, and also the fact that his birthplace was supposedly the Polar Tang’s next destination. 

Penguin was the first to speak up. He took a deep breath and clapped his hands once to get the crew’s attention, “Alright, folks, you heard the Captain. We’re not far from Punk Hazard – should be arriving by dawn tomorrow. We’ll drop off the Captain there, then we’ll immediately set course for Zou.”

“Is that all, Captain?" Shachi stood up, the screech of his metal chair scraping the floor piercing the air, "I have some chores I need to get to.”

Law’s gaze softened in gratitude at his best friends’ effort to diffuse the tense atmosphere, “Yes, you’re all dismissed.”

A weak chorus of “Aye, aye, Sir” echoed throughout the hall as the Heart Pirates dispersed, clearing the tables and bringing their empty dishes to the kitchen sink. The crew had barely finished dinner when Law dropped the bomb with his announcement, but now, nobody could even recall what was on the menu anymore. 

You headed toward the sink. It was your turn to do the dishes tonight, and as much as you didn’t want to do it, a duty was still a duty. You unzipped your boiler suit halfway, took out your arms, and tied together the long sleeves on your waist, leaving your upper body in just a loose, white tank top. Then, you got to work.  

One by one, the Heart Pirates filed out of the room, until only one other person remained. 

Your Captain sat on the main table with his head clutched in his hands, still weighed down by the burden of telling his crew about his plan. Most of all, Law felt guilty for his selfishness. For ordering you all to leave him, when he knew that was the last thing his crew wanted. The Heart Pirates’ unconditional loyalty to him always left him abashed, but he also admired it. He truly couldn’t ask for a better crew, for better friends, for a better family... and now he was sending you all away. 

However, he also knew that he couldn’t in his right conscience involve his crew in his ridiculous ploy. This was not some random trouble the crew was used to while sailing through the Grand Line. This time, Law himself was going to purposefully stir the pot, inciting conflict that would have a warlord and an emperor going after his head. 

No, he couldn’t let all of you get caught in this mess. 

After a while, his eyes found you, watching your back silently as you worked. You didn’t acknowledge his presence, instead choosing to focus on your chore. Dishes after dirty dishes, your hands worked on autopilot while your mind was going a million miles per hour, trying to figure out what to say to your Captain.

The sound of running water died as you turned off the tap, plunging the room into an even more excruciating silence. You were drying your hands on the towel hanging above the sink when you heard Law softly call out your name. 

You paused but refused to turn around, afraid that your face would betray all of the emotions you kept bottled inside. 

The tap, tap, tap of his shoes against the metal floor of the submarine felt more deafening than a cannon fire, growing louder and louder as he approached you. 

He was close, too close. You shuddered when his breath tickled the back of your neck as he called your name again. 

When you stayed silent, he asked, “Are you upset? That I didn’t tell you first about the plan?”

You couldn’t contain the slight shakiness in your voice as you replied, “I trust you know what you’re doing, Captain.”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

His voice sounded so vulnerable that it broke you.

Your lips started trembling as tears pricked your eyes. You blinked them back stubbornly, not wanting Law to know how troubled you actually were about him leaving – how worried you were that he was going off alone into what seemed to be an evil scientist’s secret lair. 

Law’s hands came to rest on the sink on either side of you, caging you in. He placed his forehead gently upon your shoulder. You noticed that his hat was still absent, abandoned somewhere on the dining table. 

One of his hands hesitantly moved to your hip, his thumb slowly drawing circles on your clothed skin.

You couldn’t help feeling like a line was starting to be crossed here.

That thin, delicate line between friends and something more that you and Law had always tiptoed around.

“Law–“ You started to breathe out, but he cut you off. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you first. I wanted to. You know–“

It was your turn to cut him off as you shook your head, “You had no obligation to tell me first, Law. I’m one of your crew members, same as everybody else here. It was only right I found out when they did.” 

“I told Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi a few days ago.”

You rolled your eyes even though he can’t see it, “They’re different and you know it. I know how special they are to you.”

Law took his other hand away from the sink. His slender fingers ghosted over your waist tentatively, before he fully committed to wrapping both of his arms tightly around your middle. 

His uncharacteristically bold display of affection surprised you, leaving you breathless and your heart racing erratically. 

You and Law have had your fair share of casual hugs, but he had never held you so close like this before. 

He was holding you as if he never wanted to let go – as if you were the last life vest in a sinking boat. 

He shifted his head slightly, burying his face in your neck, and your face heated up at the feeling of his lips grazing your skin as he mumbled something unintelligible. 

“Come again?”

“I said,” He grasped your hips and turned you around to face him. Your breath hitched at the sudden closeness between your faces, and his eyes met yours as he confessed, “You’re special to me too. More than you know.”

His forehead creased as he calculated his next words. 

”You’re more than just my crew member,” he paused before adding softly, the words nearly inaudible, “And… more than a friend.”

Your heart was threatening to jump out of your chest at his honesty. Until now, you refused to even entertain the possibility of your Captain returning your long-hidden feelings, not wanting to ruin the pleasant dynamics that you two already had. But with this… was it okay for you to finally hope for more? To want more?

“You want to know why I didn’t tell you about the plan?” Law continued, “I knew that even a slight look of disapproval from you would have me throwing the whole idea out the window. And I really can’t do that right now, not when the opportunity is right there. Not when I’m this close to my goal. I can't miss this chance.” 

He drew a breath resolutely, “You understand I have to go through with this, right? For Cora-san.”

There it was, you thought. You had figured that was why he wanted to do this by himself.

After years of sailing together, you had come to know bits and pieces about Law’s past – about Flevance and his family, about his white lead disease, and how he cured himself with the Op-Op Fruit. 

But he never told you how he got his Devil Fruit. Not until the night of his 26th birthday. 

You had found him alone on the deck of the Polar Tang, sitting under the sky full of stars with a barely sipped bottle of rum clutched in his hand.

“I’m now as old as he’d ever be.”

He had collapsed into your arms and told you all about Corazon then, the bottle of alcohol passed back and forth between you. 

That was the first and only time that you ever saw him cry. 

How could you possibly stop him from avenging the man he owed his life to?  

“Law, I’m not opposed to your plan.”

He let out a pleased sigh as you reached up and threaded your fingers in his hair. You chuckled softly, “From what little you told us, I could already tell it’s quite a brilliant one.”

The corner of his lips turned up in a smirk at your praise, but you continued, “I just wished there was a way for you to include us in it too. We’re your crew. Your family. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He shook his head, “This is my mess. I can’t drag you all into this.”

“That’s what families do, Law.” You said with a small smile, “They drag themselves into each other’s messes all the time.”

You didn’t give him a chance to argue as you put a finger to his lips, “But, if you think this is the best way, then I trust you.”

His eyes shone with gratitude at your support, your understanding, and most importantly, the trust you had in him. 

He cupped your face in his hands and touched his lips gently to your forehead, “Thank you.”

The gesture somehow felt too much like a goodbye, and you didn’t like that. At all. 

Before he could pull away, you gripped the front of his sweatshirt, “Promise me you’ll come back to us.”

Law hesitated. 

And that was how you knew how little he considered his own safety in this grand scheme of his. He wasn’t even sure he could give his word that he’d safely return. 

“Law.” You said urgently, “Promise me.”

His heart fell when he saw your beautiful face painted with distress.

“The Heart Pirates need their Captain. We can’t lose you.” The tremble in your voice worsened with each word, “I can’t lose you.”

Law was a smart man, and the implication behind your emphasis was not lost on him. His hand found yours as he vowed, “I don’t know what will happen on that mission, but I promise I’ll do everything in my power to get back to you.”

You let out a sigh of relief. You knew that once he put his mind to something, he’d damn well do anything to fulfill it.

“Can you promise me something too, then?”

You looked up at Law curiously, but nodded nonetheless. 

“Wait for me.” He said firmly, before continuing in a slightly lower voice, “Promise me you’ll be there for me. When this is all over.”

You knew that taking down Doflamingo would take a toll on him, even likely break him, physically and mentally. But, you’d be there for him – to help him pick up the pieces and rebuild them into something stronger – if that was what he wanted. Of course, you would. 

“I promise.” Your thumb caress his cheek tenderly, “I’ll wait for you at Zou.”

“Good,” Law said, and with that, he moved his hand to the back of your neck and pulled you to him. 

You gasped when his lips crashed into yours. 

His lips were warm, and soft – softer than you could ever imagine. 

In his kiss, Law poured out all of his unsaid feelings, of his desperation and yearning, of his regrets for not doing this sooner. 

Your arms circled his neck, tugging him in as close as possible. You kissed him back with equal fervor, hoping your lips would also tell him what your words couldn't. 

It was the need for oxygen that finally broke you apart. 

The intense gaze in which Law looked upon you was too much for your heart to handle, so you buried your face into his chest instead. You could feel the strong, quick thumps of his heartbeat, and it satisfied you to know that the kiss affected him as much as it did you.

“You’re not fair,” You mumbled into his sweatshirt, “Doing that the night before you leave.”

“Sorry,” Law chuckled as he held you tight against him, “I couldn’t help myself.”

You stayed in each other’s embrace in the empty dining hall, under the harsh fluorescent lights. The temperature inside the submarine was low, as always, but you didn’t feel cold at all, wrapped in your Captain’s arms. 

“Stay with me tonight.”

You could only nod and follow along as he led you by the hand into his quarters. 

You both knew he needed to rest – he needed all the energy he could get to begin his mission at dawn – but the adrenaline from your earlier moment and the anxiety for what was coming kept sleep away from the both of you.

Law ended up giving you a detailed review of his plans as you both lay on his bed, outlining every single step of his mission from the beginning to the desired end. You felt yourself growing more and more confident of his chances the more you listened to his cunning and meticulously crafted ploy. 

The room was plunged into silence when Law finished recounting his plans. The seconds ticked by, becoming minutes, then hours. But however long time passed with your arms around each other, it still wasn’t enough for you. 

At one point, he reluctantly disentangled himself from you and reached into the bag he had packed for his mission. He took out a pristine sheet of paper, ripped a small piece from it, and gave it to you. 

You watched as the Vivre Card on your palm inched slowly in his direction.

“I want you to have it,” Law said as he closed your fist over the paper, “As long as it stays whole, you’ll know that I’m alright.”

You flung your arms around his neck, “I swear if so much as a wisp of smoke comes out of this piece of paper, I will find you and kill you myself.”

Law only chuckled as he held you once more. He was just about to say something when the jarring sound of a knock interrupted him.

You and Law jumped apart as Penguin’s voice came from behind the metal door, “Captain, we’re in range of Punk Hazard.” 

“I’ll be right out.” Law replied, his voice steady despite trying to hold back a laugh as he saw the panic in your face. 

You buried your burning face in your hands as Law finally let himself laugh once Penguin’s footsteps were out of earshot. 

When you were sure that Penguin was gone, you told Law, “I should probably get back to the bunks before anyone else wakes up.” 

Law didn’t want you to go just yet, but he nodded anyway. He peeked out the hallway, giving you the all-clear when he saw that it was empty. 

Before you stepped out of the room, you couldn’t resist stealing one more peck from his lips, leaving him stunned and red-faced. 

“I’ll see you in a bit, Captain.”

After you freshened up – thankfully without anyone inquiring where you were last night – you joined your crewmates on deck to see Law off. 

Punk Hazard’s half-ice, half-fire terrain was a menacing sight, and instantly, the worry you felt for Law came rushing back in. You forced yourself to calm down. You had faith in him, and after all, he promised he’d come back to you. 

Despite the crew's frustration when Law announced his plan yesterday, they were all smiles now, preferring to send their Captain off with high spirits and support rather than reproach. Your navigator’s eyes were still glassy with tears, but you could tell he was also trying to put on a brave face for his Captain. 

“Bepo!” Law clapped the mink’s shoulder, “Lead them safely to Zou for me, yeah?”

Bepo clung to him, rubbing his face all over Law’s and shedding white fur all over the front of his clothes, “Of course, Captain! I’ll make you proud!”

Law turned to his two other best friends, “You two are in charge. Don’t burn down my submarine.”

Penguin and Shachi mock-saluted him, the redhead grinning mischievously, “You can count on us. No promises that I wouldn’t take over the Captain's quarters in your absence, though!”

Law rolled his eyes at the joke, then turned to address the whole crew, his lips drawn in a thin smile. 

“Safe travels.” He said, as if your journey was even half as dangerous as his, “I’ll see you all at Zou.”

“Aye, aye, Sir!”

The formality broke away as the Heart Pirates smothered Law with hugs, pats on the back, and sloppy smooches on his cheeks. 

Law never seemed to show it, and he would rather die than admit it, but you knew he secretly enjoyed the attention from his overly affectionate crew. 

Once they all had their fill with the farewells, he turned to you at last. In full view of everyone, he pulled you into a tight embrace. 

Some eyebrows were definitely raised when he held you just a bit longer than what was deemed appropriate for a merely friendly hug.

“Promise me you’ll be careful.” You whispered into his ear. 

You had lost count of how many promises had been exchanged between the two of you since last night, but he simply nodded, “I promise.” 

He subtly pressed his lips to your temple – just a touch, not enough to be noticeable by the rest of the crew. With a last squeeze, he released you and walked toward the railing. 

“Room.” 

The Heart Pirates cheered their good lucks and farewells once more as a massive blue dome surrounded the Tang, extending all the way to the edge of the island.

His eyes locked onto yours with determination, silently reassuring you that he’ll remember your promises. You gave him a small smile and a nod of encouragement. 

Law put his hand out in front of him and uttered, “Shambles!”

And then he was gone. 

In his place was a small frozen pebble that he had exchanged positions with.

You picked it up and rolled it around between your fingers, feeling the ice slowly melt as it met your warm hand. Your other hand reached into the pocket of your boiler suit, ensuring the piece of paper was still safely in your possession. You hung on to it as if it were Law’s lifeline, which it might as well be if you thought about it.  

The Heart Pirates went inside, preparing for the imminent sailing to Zou. No one said a word when you stayed behind on the deck, watching Punk Hazard getting smaller and smaller in the distance until it disappeared from the horizon.

The pebble eventually lost all of its coldness, and you pocketed it alongside the Vivre Card.

“Oi, the course is set." Penguin’s voice pulled you out of your trance, "We’re ready to submerge.”

He and Shachi positioned themselves on either side of you, throwing their arms around your shoulders. 

Penguin cleared his throat and grinned cheekily, “A little heads-up: the whole submarine is abuzz with the newest hot goss. Apparently, someone didn’t return to the bunks last night after dish duties.”

“That long-ass embrace you shared with the Captain before he left isn't helping your case either,” Shachi added unhelpfully. 

You groaned, mortified that the crew had likely put two and two together and suspected where you had spent the night.

“But seriously, though, what the hell was that?” Penguin bumped his shoulder to yours, “Did something happen between you two?” 

Shachi laughed, “What, did he finally grow some balls and admit his feelings to you?” 

Your silence and averted gaze were enough of an answer for them. 

The two gawked at your bashful reaction, not actually expecting Shachi’s guess to be spot on. They both knew about your and the Captain’s feelings for each other, and were even at the point where they thought of interfering, but it seemed like the two of you didn’t need their meddling after all. 

You grimaced as you noticed them eyeing each other with matching shit-eating grins.

This was going to be a long, long journey to Zou. 

a/n: I've been working on this fic for so long, it's quite unreal that I'm finally letting it see the light of day. If you've read my fics before then you'd know I mostly just write fluff, so writing this was kinda an experiment for me. I do want to get better at writing angst, though, so please please please let me know what you think in the comments or tags! I really hope you enjoyed this fic <3

update: i wasn’t sure at first if i wanted to write a part 2 with the zou reunion, but it’s officially in the works now! it’s gonna take a while for me to finish, but please let me know if you want to be tagged once it’s up!

↳ masterlist

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Fifteen Minutes

Din Djarin x Cam Girl Reader AU

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Being a cam girl isn't as exciting as people think it is, that is until a mystery of a deep voiced man asks you what makes a woman feel good. Warnings: Smut, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, sex work, Din reveals his face, silver dildo, Din's a virgin, premature ejaculation. Banner has nothing to do with appearance of reader, reader has no physical descriptors besides being AFAB. Words: 4,360 Author Note: Happy May the 4th, tell me why I spent all tonight writing this?

Fifteen Masterlst Masterlist

— —

THEWAY would like to chat. Accept?

$150 for fifteen minutes of staring at someone’s dick, of course you’re going to take it. Usually these calls consist of you rubbing your body and complimenting men you’d never even speak to while you try to recall if you remembered to order caesar dressing with your dinner. You look around your room, you have nothing else to do, your delivery won’t be here for another twenty minutes… you hit accept. 

“Hi babe, how are you tonight?” You smile into the camera, the smile your customers love, sultry bedroom eyes and a small grin. 

“…Good,” he breathes out.

Oh, his voice. You only see a black shirt… nothing else, but that voice is enough for you. 

“Tell me, have you done this before?”

“…No. My first time.”

“Alright, so you have fifteen minutes with me, once the timer is up we’re done and I disconnect. You’re allowed to touch yourself and I will watch you, I will do what you tell me to do within my own comfort, if I choose to end the call because I don’t feel right, then you will be billed the whole amount. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” 

“Okay, great. Just so I know what you want before we start what are you interested in tonight?”  

“I’d like to watch you and learn.”

“Learn?”

“Yes, learn, I-I,” he sighs, “I’ve never been with anybody before.”

“Oh.” With that voice? You don’t know what he looks like, but his voice has already turned you on so much you can’t imagine somebody who sounds like that is a virgin. You turn the volume all the way up. “So, you want me to show you what girls like?”

“What a girl like you likes, yes.”

“I can do that for you. I’m going to start the timer now.” 

You know this feeling, the click of the mouse on the green BEGIN button, the lean back to get your body in the whole frame, the spreading of your legs to show your viewer what they really want to see. 

“What do you want me to show baby?” You ask as you run your hand along your neck and down to your breasts.

“Show me what you like when someone has you.”

How are you so turned on by his voice? The way it flows through your speakers, the deep baritone of his serious voice, it does something to you… and it’s just a voice.

“I like when a guy plays with my nipples,” your hands cup your breasts, pulling and massaging them into peaks. “I like when they lick them,” you dribble spit down to your chest, swiping your fingers through it and spreading it across your chest. 

His long exhale massages your body through those damn tinny speakers. Usually by now your  screen is full of your client’s dick, you’ve become very good at staring at the camera, ignoring the tugging and actions on the screen in your peripheral vision. This time, that voice makes you wish you could see him. 

“I like when they drag their hands all over my body,” your hand travels down your stomach to your thighs and back up. 

“I like when they tell me they want to touch my body. Do you want to touch my body?”

“Y-yes.”

“What do you want to touch?”

“E-everywhere, you look like you’re so soft. I want to touch your legs, they look so smooth.”

“I’d like that,” you smile at the camera, “do you want me to touch my pussy for you?” 

“Uh huh.” 

You lay back, spreading your legs wide, dipping your hand down to pet yourself. You’re not surprised to find that you’re already wet, the mysterious man’s deep voice mixed with the desolate black screen and the sight of his black shirt moving as he breathes is enough for you.

You wonder how old he is, what he looks like, why he chose your room, why he’s obviously not touching himself. He’s a mystery you want to figure out. You welcome the luxury of not having to pretend you like what you see. You like knowing that this total stranger is sitting in a dark room only focusing on you.

You rub a finger against your clit, your hips rising at the feel of the pressure against your sensitive nub.

“I like when they can feel how wet they make me.” You glue your eyes to the camera letting out a moan while your finger teases your clit. “I like when they dip a finger in my cunt and bring my juices up to my clit. Feels really good as they rub me with my wet.”

Your finger dips down to your entrance, sliding it into yourself. “Ohh baby, I am so wet for you,” you moan as you begin to fuck yourself. 

Your other hand begins its descent down your body until it reaches your pussy. It works over your clit as you fuck yourself slowly, your cunt already clenching around your singular finger. 

You’re so turned on right now, the excitement of this black screen, the knowledge that he picked your picture and trusts you to show him what makes you feel good. 

“You’re pretty quiet over there, you good?”

“Y-yes. I like watching you.”

“Why’d you choose me?” you slip another finger in with a moan. “Couldn’t you just have watched a video?”

“I wanted to see it for real. Is it for real?”

“With you, yes.”

You don’t know what it is about his voice. Why are you getting off on the mystery? 

“Are you touching yourself?” You never have to, nor want to, ask, but you want to know this time. 

“No,” he sighs, “I want to focus, I don’t want any distractions.”

“Okay, that’s okay baby,” you give him an understanding smile as you begin canting your hips up to pump yourself harder. 

Five minute warning. The red box pops up on the screen. You’re too focused on your bliss to close the warning. You’re always so good at turning off the video vixen and going right into businesswoman mode but tonight, you just want to make this stranger feel satisfied. 

“I really like it when my pussy is stuffed with a cock, I love feeling the stretch and I love when my hole is stuffed so full.”

You hear his deep groan. You can’t hide the smile on your face.

“Ohhh, you liked that didn’t you? How would you take me if you were here with me? Let me know baby, tell me.”

“I-I’d want to fuck you as I looked in your eyes, you have beautiful eyes and lips, I want to kiss you while I fuck you.”

“Oh,” a chill blooms through your body at how gentle his words are. Most men are crass and too forthcoming with their fantasies, never soft, most of their answers just turn into white noise. His answer is going to stay with you. “I like when a guy wants me to cum all over their cock, I love the feeling of my cunt pumping around a hard cock as I orgasm. I’m close, do you want me to cum for you?”

“Please, yes.”

His voice, you can’t stress this enough, his voice is so fucking hot. Your body begins to feel feverish as the loud squelch of your fingers working your cunt faster and harder gets louder. You hardly ever cum during these sessions, especially when you use just your hands, needless to say, you’re really good at pretending. 

You love your job, you really do, it allows so much freedom and pays well, but some nights are so monotonous and boring. Tonight seemed like one of those nights, until you accepted this call. Tonight you’re going to cum.

Your orgasm hits you hard, back arching, limbs tightening, eyes fluttering as a rush of slick soaks your fingers. You pant for air as you come down, slipping your fingers out and resting a hand on your chest. 

The countdown begins in the corner of your screen 60, 59, 58…

“Time’s about up,” you whisper as you sit up, “I hope I helped you.”

“Y-you did. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” you smile. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t.” 

He disconnects.

Your account shows $250 extra. He’s an excellent tipper and you actually came for him. You really love your job tonight. 

——

THEWAY would like to chat. Accept?

The way, the way, the way. You’ve thought about him for the past week, wondering if he joined any other room, if he chose someone else over you. All you know about him is he owns a black shirt and has never been with anybody… and yet you’ve thought about him every single day since. Have you crossed his mind? You sure hope so because he picked you again tonight. Your heart beats faster as you try to hide the smile when you hit the accept button. 

“Hi again,” you grin. 

This time there’s a light on behind him, you can just make out the broadness of his shoulders, really fucking broad, he’s in a black shirt again, but thanks to the light you can see he has golden skin.

“Hi, it’s nice to see you," he shyly says.

Goodness you’re so thankful for that light, you can see the way his chest moves when he talks. There’s tiny peek of his toned neck at the top of the screen, you pray he dips lower exposing his face. His voice is just how you remembered it, low and bassy, you’re already getting wet at the anticipation of hearing more.

“I can see a little more of you now,” you wink, “I like it.”

“Heh,” he chuckles, it's the first time you’ve heard him laugh. His hand comes into frame and scratches his chest. It’s beautiful and large, his fingers are thick, you wonder what they’d feel like against your skin.

“I have to give you the same spiel even though you’re a repeat. Once again, you have fifteen minutes with me once it’s up, I disconnect. Please feel free to touch yourself for me and I’ll do what you want as long as I am okay with it. I’ll hang up if I don’t feel comfortable. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“Wonderful. Are you going to touch yourself for me tonight?”

“Uh, n-no, not yet.”

“That’s okay, I’m happy to do the work for you. You want me to use my hands, or do you want me to use a toy?”

“Do you have anything shaped like a-a—uh, a—“

“A dick?”

“Yeah.”

“I do. You want to watch me fuck myself with a cock?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll grab my favorite one just for you.”

You roll over and pick up your “briefcase” of sex toys, grabbing your favorite, the silver toned dildo. It’s thick, it vibrates, and it fits your cunt just right. 

“Is this what you want to watch me fuck myself with?”

“Ye—“ he clears his throat. “God, yes.”

You giggle. “Okay, I’m starting the timer now.” 

You tap the button. Fifteen minutes of him.  

“What do you want from me baby? You want to see how this cock looks in my mouth?”

“Yes,” he strangles out.

“You want me to pretend it’s your cock?”

“Fuck, yes.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“L-lick it.”

You smile, leaning closer to the camera as you bring the dildo up to your lips, sticking your tongue out and swirling it around the tip, your eyes focused on the screen, not the camera… the screen. You want another glimpse of his skin. 

“Mm, wish I could taste you. You think you’re leaking for me right now baby?”

You lick a line down to the base and back up. 

“I bet you’re so warm and soft there,” you whisper against the tip before opening your mouth and sucking it. You hollow your cheeks as you take the dildo in deeper, eyes widening and tearing as it hits the back of your throat. 

“Fuuuuck,” he leans back farther in his chair his chin comes into sight, well trimmed facial hair, strong chin, you know he has to be beautiful. 

You can’t stop looking at him, you don’t even know his name, where he lives, what he does, why in the hell he’s still a virgin. 

Drool escapes your lips as you fuck your mouth moaning around the silver latex. 

Most of the time this job isn’t the greatest, you usually find yourself going through the motions, moving on to the next client, the next responsibility. Sure, sometimes you really connect with a watcher, sometimes you look forward to the name appearing knowing you’ll actually really enjoy the session, but most of the time, you deal and move on. It’s business. Sure as hell beats sitting in a cubicle. With this stranger, this puzzle you’re slowly figuring out? You love your job. 

“Want to see my pussy take this cock now baby?”

“Please.”

You nod, leaning back and spreading your legs open. 

“Do you feel safe telling me your name? I want to say your name as I get fucked by your cock.” 

“Ye—fuck yes. It’s Din.”

“Diiiiiiin,” you moan, as you begin to pump the silver cock in and out of you. It moves smoothly, you’re soaking wet for him, only due to his voice and whatever sights the light of the lamp wants to bless you with. 

Din. Three letters. Simple. Direct. Unique. Strong. 

“Oh Din, you feel so good in me baby, like how I take your cock? Tell me baby, talk to me, I want to hear you.”

“Yes. God, you’re so beautiful.”

“You’re so big, you’re stinging me so good. You like how my pussy looks stretched around you?”

“Yes, I-I do.”

“I feel desperate, so desperate for you. I love how you feel inside me. What are you looking at baby? Can’t see your eyes, what are you watching me do right now? Where are you focused?”

“On your face. I like watching the way you bite your lip as you f-fuck yourself.” 

God, he still sound so nervous. So new. He can’t be too young, not with that body.

“What color eyes do you have, Din?”

“Brown, b-brown eyes.”

“Mm, I like brown eyes, I bet you’re real handsome all brown eyed and tan skin. Now, have those brown eyes watch my pussy baby, watch how I take you. You can look at my face as I cum for you, Din. Right now I want you to look at my cunt. Are you hard for me Din? Are you as hard as the cock I’m fucking myself with?’

“Yes.”

The five minute warning box shows up again, this time it’s your nemesis that you ignore.

“Do you imagine a pussy as wet as mine when you get yourself off?” 

“Y-yes.”

“Did you make yourself cum after our last session?”

“Yes,” he chokes out, “right after, I-I jerked off.”

“Did you think about me?” Your voice coming out with more curiosity than you’d like. 

“I did, and every time since.”

Your body shivers from his words, “That’s a good boy Din, I like that,” you smile as your hips raise off the bed to meet your quickening thrusts fucking yourself harder.

He groans, long and low.

“I’m going to cum for you, Din,” you pant. ”I’m going to cum on your cock and then I’m going to lick myself up off of you, okay?”

“Fuck, yes.” 

You chant Din’s name as you pound your pussy, tingles shooting through you as you orgasm. You haven’t cum like this on camera in a long time. It’s devastating that not every one of your clients can be Din. 

You stretch your limbs out as you come down from your climax.

“God damn,” you giggle, “that was really fucking good.”

You slowly take the dildo out and bring it to your lips, raising your eyebrow at him and resting the tip against your lips.

“Yes, please, yes,” he growls.

You lick yourself off the silver latex, sucking your juices from the top, smiling as your mouth forms around it. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck,” Din’s voice edges you on.

“Mmm, Din, I taste so good, look how fucking shiny I made your dick.”

“Goooooood, fuck,” he pants, “you’re so pretty, fuck. Fuck, I-I-I I’m going to cum.”

The one minute countdown shows up at the worst time. You quickly lean forward and hit IGNORE, DO NOT CHARGE EXTRA.

“Cum for me Din, cum for me,” you try to disguise your prideful smile behind the silver dildo. 

The groans he lets out as he cums, the way his neck stretches as he angles his head up… it’s all you get, but it’s enough to keep you thinking about him at any chance you get. 

Sometimes a self esteem boost can be as simple as somebody complimenting your shoes or an attractive person giving you a friendly nod… this boost isn’t nearly as simple. Din just came in his pants just for you, without even touching himself.

“I’ve never done that, sorry,” his voice dripping with shame.

“No, Din, baby, no. I really liked it. A lot. I’m glad I could make you feel that way. Really.”

“You’re really… sweet, you know that?”

“I suppose I can be. Depends on the person,” you wink.

“I—uh, think I’m over my time.”

“You are, but I’m not going to charge you for it.”

“Thank you.” 

“Of course. Don’t be a stranger, Din.”

“I won’t.”

He disconnects. You lay back on your bed and grin at your ceiling. 

——

THEWAY would like to chat. Accept?

“Din,” you smile as the familiar black shirt appears on your screen. Thank god, the lamp is on. “It’s only been three days.”

“I know, I-I wanted to see you.”

“That’s good, I wanted to see you too.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you these past few days,” he pauses, “I’m sorry, i-is that okay?”

“Oh, of course it is. I’ve thought about you too baby.”

“You say that for everyone?”

“I do, but this time I mean it. Now, you know I have to give you the same base instructions. Fifteen minutes and then I disconnect. You can touch yourself, I’ll do what you want as long as I am okay with it. I’ll hang up if I don’t feel right. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“Good, so what do you want tonight?”

“Yeah, I, uh, want to um—will you watch me tonight?”

“Of course baby, I’d be happy to.”

“Okay, yeah, thanks.”

You shake your head and laugh. “No need to thank me, I’m always happy to help you. I was really happy to see your name. So you want me to watch you tonight? Do you want me to do anything else for you?”

“Just, touch yourself and talk to me like you do. I-I’ve never done something like this, nobody has ev—nobody’s seen me like this before.”

He sounds so fragile, you want to take care of him.

“You want me to use a toy or my hand?”

“Just your hand.” 

“Okay baby, I’ll use my hand. I’ll start the timer.” You softly whisper the last part, trying to ignore that at the end of the day he’s is just your client.

He moves the computer farther away, new views are unlocked. His stomach, his crotch, his thick thighs all clad in black. 

You click the start timer button. Fifteen minutes left of this view. Fifteen minutes left of Din. 

You lean back and spread your legs to show him your already wet cunt. 

“Want me to play with my pussy for you? Get you nice and hard so you can fuck yourself until you cum for me?”

“Yes,” he hisses. His hand moves down to grip his crotch. 

Fuck, that sends a wave of pleasure through your body as one of your hands spreads your folds wide open.

“Do you see how fucking wet I am Din? How turned on I am by you, I don’t even know how you look, but you drive me crazy.”

He groans as he squeezes his bulge.

“I love how you groan, I wish I could feel it against my pussy while you eat me. I bet you’d lick me so well.”

“I want to taste you, fuck.”

“I want you to test me too. Now, go ahead, take your shirt and pants off. I want to see the rest of you.”

He quickly removes his shirt. God damnit, he’s perfect. Tan chest, tan stomach, the perfect amount of hair running from his chest to his stomach, down to where he’s currently unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. You can’t believe your eyes, as he lifts his hips to move the fabric down. Everything about him is big and strong. Lean, but filled out in all the right places. Strong and soft. How the fuck is he still a virgin? Your mouth waters at the sight of his erection now barely hiding behind the thin black fabric of his briefs. 

“Din,” you begin to rub circles around your clit, happy for the pressure, “you look so good for me, let me see your cock. Let me stare at it, you want me to see your cock?”

“Yes.”

He’s such a man of few words, you love it. His words are simple, straightforward, efficient, just like his name. Din.

He pulls his boxers down, his cock springs up. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He’s rock hard, pulsing, golden toned, leaking from the tip, all surrounded by dark brown hair, you knew he had dark hair. He’s HUGE.

“Din, you’re fucking beautiful baby, I can’t believe it,” you gasp. “Fuck yourself for me, I can’t wait to see you cum all over your beautiful skin for me.”

His fist wraps around his shaft, you’ve seen some pretty hot things in your line of work. You’ve had some really attractive clients call in, but right now? Right now is the hottest thing you’ve ever been blessed to witness. Din stroking his cock for you, watching his stomach move with each breath he takes. You’re too focused on him to realize your finger has been paused on your clit since he first unsheathed his cock. 

“Fuck, Din, you’re making me forget what I’m doing, you look so good. I can’t believe it.” 

He groans, his grip tightens at the tip as he fucks himself. 

“Something about seeing you like this, hearing you moan and groan for me,” your finger runs a line back and forth between your hole and your clit. “It just does something to me. It’s so fucking sexy.”

He lets out a strangled grunt raising his hips and pumping his hand faster, “I-I don’t think I’m going to last long.”

“That’s good baby, watching you is already making me want to fucking cum,” you stick two fingers in, your cunt already fluttering around them. 

“Wh-what would you do if I was with you right now fu—fucking you?”

“I’d kiss you,” your other hand travels down to begin circling around your clit, “I’d kiss your strong neck, I’d lick into your mouth and taste you. Wrap my hands around your big arms and hold on as your big cock destroys my pussy.”

“Goddddd,” he whimpers, “I-I’d like that.” His hand becoming a blur on your screen as he strokes quicker. 

The stupid five minute warning pop up shows up. You’re getting real good at ignoring it with him.

“You like that I’m about to cum on your cock? You really do something to me Din, I can’t believe how quick and hard you make me cum.”

His hips begin bucking into his first, the chair he’s on squeaking as he rapidly moves up and down. You love hearing the sound of him fucking himself mixed with the sound of you fucking yourself. 

“I’m going to cum baby,” he grunts, he called you baby.

Your eyes widen as you watch him spurt white ropes of his cum all over his stomach and thighs. There’s so much. 

Your cunt begins to spasm around your fingers as your climax crashes through you.

“Din, you feel so good. You came so good,” you gasp as you orgasm, trying to keep your shaking legs wide for him to watch. You pant for air as you get your bearings back, you’re obsessed with how this comedown feels. 

“That was amazing Din,” you smile, “not to be too forward, which is a funny thing to say right now, but you look really good.”

“Wow,” he laughs, “thank you. I feel the same way about you.” Your smile widens, you bet his face is so handsome when he laughs.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how in the hell are you a virgin with a dick like that?”

“Some weird religion stuff… I’m no longer a part of. Long story, maybe one day I’ll tell you.”

“I’d like that.”

The one minute timer shows its ugly head. 

“Fuck, we have a minute left,” you frown. “I, uh, would you take my number?” Now it’s your turn to feel nervous. 

“Y-yes. Sure.”

You lean forward and type your number into the chat box. 

“Please call me here next time you want to… talk with me.”

“I will.”

“Don’t be a stranger, Din.”

“I won’t.”

He disconnects.

——

DIN DJARIN WANTS TO FACETIME 

You almost drop your phone at the name. Goosebumps break out across your skin, your heart begins to beat loudly against your chest. You click accept, and this time you really almost drop your phone. 

His face, you knew it… he’s beautiful.

“Hi,” he shyly smiles.

“Hi. Y-you’re gorgeous?”

He laughs, his big brown eyes disappearing behind the crinkles of his eyes. “If you say so.”

“I do. I’m so glad you called me.”

“I am too,” his smile is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

Sometimes you love your job, especially when it brings someone like Din Djarin into your life. 

___

Hi! Here's the next installment for these two. Fifteen Weeks

[ekkkkey]

there will be games! (chapter I)

summary: Cassandra, a quiet and loyal wife to the much older Senator Tiberius, accidentally attracts the unsettling attention of Emperor Caracalla at a lavish feast hosted by Senator Thraex…

chapter II

chapter III

chapter IV

warnings: 18+ minors dni, noncon, dub-con, when the emperor is a bit insane, he’s cute tho

word count: 9k

«No woman could feel safe if her beauty or name aroused the emperor’s curiosity.»

—Suetonius, The Twelve Caesars (Caligula, Chapter 36)

⋆ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋆

As a proper Roman matron, she trailed behind her husband’s broad back, head lowered, careful not to make unnecessary eye contact. Tiberius—three times her age—had only recently become her husband.

Once a great general, a member of the council, and a close companion of the legendary Maximus, Tiberius was now but a shadow of his former self.

The Senate had broken men far greater than him, and his appointment to the imperial court, along with their move from the provinces, had only deepened his sour temper and disturbed mind.

Her father, once a formidable man in his own right, had grown frail with age, which was why she obediently followed behind her husband. She had been given to his household and now belonged to him, for his success meant her family’s success—her father’s, her sisters’.

That was enough for her. After all, Cassandra had never craved ambition.

And yet, her heart pounded so violently that it seemed to throb in her throat. Fear wrapped around her, squeezing tighter with every step as she stood in the grand halls of Senator Thraex’s villa.

Nervously, she adjusted the folds of her white matron’s gown, smooth and chaste as tradition demanded, her palms damp with anxiety. But as she glanced around, a quiet bitterness stirred in her chest. Tiberius had insisted on white to emphasize her innocence and purity as a young bride, but what good was it when around her swirled women draped in crimson silks and glistening gold?

Her cheeks flushed as she met the gaze of a dark-haired beauty—bare-chested, unashamed. Tiberius noticed, too. She saw his lips curl into a sneer, and the grip on her wrist tightened, pulling her through the crowd.

"Senator!" Tiberius’ demeanor shifted instantly. When necessary, he could be charming—Cassandra knew this well.

"Has Acacius arrived yet?"

She knew better than to intrude on men’s conversations; her husband despised even the suggestion she might show interest. So she remained silent, observing. Senator Thraex, host of the lavish affair, was nothing like Tiberius despite their shared senatorial rank. Thraex was effeminate, painted, adorned in a way that seemed theatrical, and yet Tiberius smiled, nodding politely.

"The general does not attend such gatherings, alas, my friend," Thraex said, blinking theatrically. "But we have no less important guests tonight, Tiberius—the emperors are here!"

Her heart fluttered, a mixture of awe and terror. The emperors! In the midst of mere mortals! But her excitement was not shared by Tiberius, whose features grew harder. Since Marcus Aurelius’ death, no emperor had earned her husband’s respect. Though he was careful not to voice his opinion publicly, in private, his bitter thoughts often bordered on treason.

"Do emperors often grace your home, Thraex?" Tiberius asked coldly, his voice heavy with disdain. Thraex shifted uneasily.

"Well, no, my dear friend. But the return of General Acacius has stirred us all, hasn’t it? All of Rome celebrates—and the emperors, too!"

"It certainly looks expensive," Tiberius remarked bluntly.

"Indeed, but what can one do?" Thraex hastily changed the subject, his eyes landing on Cassandra. "Ah, what a delightful child! Tiberius, do introduce us!"

"My wife, Cassandra. You know her father," Tiberius muttered as Thraex took her hand, pressing a theatrical kiss to her fingers. The senator praised her beauty and virtue while Tiberius, clearly enjoying the flattery, beamed with pride.

"Please, come in, eat, drink—everything here is yours!" Thraex declared before being swept away by a dark-skinned man draped in luxurious robes.

Cassandra craned her neck, intrigued. Such sights were unfamiliar to her. In her homeland, foreigners were slaves, not men of wealth and power.

"A gathering of useless spendthrifts and sycophants," Tiberius muttered under his breath, steering them toward the exit. "Acacius isn’t here; we have no reason to stay."

"Let’s stay a little longer, I beg you," Cassandra found her voice, pleading for a few more moments in the glittering crowd.

She was young and curious, and their new villa in Rome did little to satisfy her curiosity.

Tiberius didn’t have time to answer before the dark-skinned man they had noticed earlier threw an arm around his shoulders.

"Tiberius, you old grouch!" The man laughed, clapping him on the back as if they were old friends. "Leaving already? You bring a young wife and then run off? Afraid someone will steal her?" He winked playfully at Cassandra, making her smile despite herself. His casual demeanor was refreshing.

"Macrinus! What brings you here?" Tiberius asked, his mood softening. To Cassandra’s delight, it seemed they would stay after all. Unlike Thraex, Macrinus appeared to be someone her husband genuinely liked.

As they strolled through the opulent halls, Cassandra’s eyes darted greedily from one decoration to the next, drinking in every detail to hold onto later when the gloom of their villa returned.

"The new fighter is something else, Tiberius," Macrinus said. "I’ll wager my right hand he’ll best Thraex’s gladiator, and the senator will owe me a hefty sum."

A gladiator? Cassandra’s heart sank. Could her husband truly be interested in such gruesome spectacles? Though he was stern, she would never have called him cruel.

"Stand here," Tiberius ordered, pointing to a spot behind him.

Obediently, she stood behind her husband, still listening to Macrinus’s chatter. The hall was already buzzing with the hum of a dozen voices, but even through the noise, a shrill, high-pitched laugh cut through like a blade.

She rose on her toes, straining to see where it came from. A little farther ahead, an even larger crowd had gathered in the center, blocking the source of the laughter. Cassandra craned her neck higher, and finally, she saw them. Her throat went dry instantly.

She had never seen the emperors before, only heard whispers of their youth, debauchery, and cruelty. But even without knowing their faces, she knew. No one else in Rome could look like that.

Red-haired, pale, surrounded by half-naked men and women, they stood out. They had to stand out. People called them twins, but it would be hard to find two people less alike. Only their fiery, curly red hair tied them together.

"Which one is Geta, and which is Caracalla?" she whispered to Tiberius.

"The one in silver is Emperor Geta, and the one in gold is Emperor Caracalla, my lady," Macrinus answered with a smirk, beating her husband to the response. Her excitement at seeing such noble figures must have been plain on her face.

Cassandra continued to study them hungrily, hoping Tiberius wouldn’t scold her later for inappropriate behavior; Geta was taller, broader—it was obvious even though they were seated. Caracalla, on the other hand, was shorter, all smooth lines and delicacy. It was his laugh she had heard.

For a brief moment, she caught Emperor Geta’s bored gaze, but he quickly looked away, his piercing dark eyes utterly uninterested. Caracalla didn’t glance their way at all. His gaze was unfocused, cloudy, as if he were staring straight through the crowd. From this distance, she could see the golden shadows framing his eyelids, making his blue eyes appear even more languid.

At his feet, a man smiled obsequiously up at the emperor, his hand gently stroking the bare knee beneath Caracalla’s toga. Cassandra’s cheeks burned, and she quickly turned away, afraid of being caught staring.

When Senator Thraex solemnly announced the wager with Macrinus, and two men were brought into the hall, everything fell silent, only to erupt into an even louder roar. She didn’t want to watch the fight—soft and gentle, as her father and husband had said, Cassandra hated violence, but now she was in Rome, where blood flowed every time the emperors snapped their fingers.

As if reading her thoughts, Emperor Caracalla lazily stretched his words, playing with them, as if he weren’t talking about human lives at all. Anxiously, she pressed closer to her husband’s shoulder.

"Swords! Bring them swords, and let blood be spilled!" the emperor commanded, sprawling on the couch. His brother didn’t object, only nodded.

And the spectacle began. She tried not to look at the fight, focusing instead on her breathing, attempting to calm herself. The crowd roared in delight, gasping and shouting encouragement to the combatants. The noise became unbearable. People swayed and scattered, dodging sword points or the splinters of a broken table where one man—representing Macrinus—was thrown.

She didn’t notice when the fighters came too close to them, forcing her husband to step awkwardly back, pushing her against the wall. Struggling to keep her balance, she leaned against a small side table, knocking over a porcelain vase. No one paid any attention, not even her husband, who was too absorbed in the spectacle.

A dull pain pierced her hand, and to her surprise, Cassandra realized she’d cut her palm on a shattered piece of the vase.

"A deep cut… it’ll scar," she thought absentmindedly. A shard had sliced across her palm horizontally, blood flowing steadily even as the pain subsided. She wanted to leave, to tell Tiberius about the injury and return to the villa; but then, the hall fell silent, and the air was suddenly heavy with the metallic tang of blood.

Too much blood for one day.

Her stomach churned as the body of a slain gladiator was dragged out by the legs like a sack of grain. Neither the presence of emperors nor the distinguished guests around her brought any comfort- even the bold words of the victor, who dared to argue with Emperor Geta, failed to impress her. All she wanted now was to leave.

She cradled her injured hand like a child, unwilling to stain her white clothing. Tiberius would surely be furious.

If the audacity of the barbarian didn’t move her, her husband and Macrinus were visibly enthralled. Quietly exchanging a few final words, Macrinus left the hall with his gladiator in tow.

"Let’s go. It’s time," Tiberius finally said, still oblivious to her wound.

She pressed her lips together and followed him.

"Senator!" They were stopped again, and this time, simply leaving wasn’t an option.

For a moment, she noticed her husband’s face pale, the hard crease between his brows betraying his fury. Yet when he turned to the voice, he was smiling. Emperor Geta’s smile was equally false.

"We were informed of your return, but seeing you here is truly a gift," his voice was low and smooth. "Surely, you weren’t planning to leave without greeting us?"

Her heart froze as she watched the emperor extend his pale hand, adorned with rings. Tiberius bowed, brushing his lips against one of the jewels. The emperor’s thin smile deepened, while his brother, standing behind, burst into shrill laughter. There was nothing amusing, yet the guests followed suit, grinning along with their ruler.

Caracalla, judging by his expression, barely grasped where he was. He swayed slightly, struggling to remain upright.

"You’ve always been like this, haven’t you? Even back when our father was around," Caracalla rasped, his voice hoarse, his gaze unfocused, and a faint smile curling his lips. "No fun, just work, work!" He laughed again, and the guests eagerly followed suit.

Cassandra felt a wave of fear.

Her husband’s pride was limitless, and even a teasing public remark—though lighthearted—could push him into actions with dangerous consequences, ones that would inevitably affect her.

"Join us, Tiberius," the young emperor taunted, still grinning.

Cassandra caught a flash of gold and soon realized—one of his teeth was gold. The emperor was practically drowning in luxury, and his wide smile proudly revealed the golden tooth. Hardly anyone in the empire could boast such a thing.

"Boys, girls, whoever you like! Let’s see if you’re as serious in bed as you are in politics!"

"Thank you, Caesar, but I am married and loyal to my wife," Tiberius answered with calm dignity.

It felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over her when he mentioned her. Both emperors immediately looked past Tiberius, their gazes landing on her. She had no choice but to step forward.

Brown eyes studied her, more bored than intrigued, and Emperor Geta quickly looked away. Caracalla, however, stared longer. She thought to herself that it must be difficult for him to focus after drinking so much… but no, the piercing blue of his eyes wasn’t fixed on her face. His gaze lingered lower, where her hands clutched desperately at the fabric of her dress.

Distracted, Cassandra glanced down. She’d forgotten about the wound; blood had stained her white gown with a vivid red, the bright scarlet blotch marking the spot where her hand had just rested.

Her eyes darted back to the emperor, only to find him already watching her with a smile. Yet his eyes didn’t match the curve of his lips—they didn’t smile at all. They flicked back and forth between the crimson stain and her face.

She swallowed hard.

Caracalla licked his lips before turning to his brother, unsettlingly silent. Without realizing it, Cassandra stepped back. She didn’t know why she felt afraid, but the fear was instinctive.

A hand settled on her waist, steadying her and pulling her closer. It was Tiberius.

Both emperors broke into identical grins.

"Well then, enjoy your young wife, Tiberius," Geta said, his tone casual, though his words carried a veiled command. His eyes flicked between the two of them as he added, "We’ll expect you tomorrow. At the arena. The fights will be spectacular, and we want the senators there with us." He chuckled softly. "The young lady, too. General Acacius and his wife have already agreed. I think she’ll appreciate the company."

"With pleasure, my emperor," Tiberius replied smoothly, bowing his head.

For once, Cassandra fully shared her husband’s feelings—neither of them wanted to attend.

⋆ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋆

Modesty and loyalty—these were the weapons of a noblewoman, her mother had taught her. But what if her modesty went unappreciated? What if her shy glances and lowered head brought only mockery?

The stands were alive with people eager to witness the bloody spectacle. The air was thick with excitement, buzzing with the restless energy of an audience awaiting carnage. Even the imperial viewing box, where the Praetorians had escorted them, was steeped in that same anticipation.

The moment they entered, Emperor Geta rose from his seat to greet her husband. Cassandra, ever modest, remained quietly in the background. Despite the luxury of the box, there was still too little space, and both emperors ended up uncomfortably close to her. Caracalla, however, didn’t bother to rise. His pale blue eyes stayed fixed on them, watching intently.

In the daylight, she could see him more clearly now: the powdered face, faint red marks scattered across his cheekbones, and vivid orange shadows encircling his eyes. His expression shifted—his gaze cold, almost hostile. Embarrassed, Cassandra quickly looked away, realizing she had stared too long, it seemed he didn’t appreciate being stared at.

Even with her back turned, she could feel his eyes lingering on her, their weight pressing against her like a physical force.

To her surprise and growing discomfort, Emperor Geta addressed her as well. He took her fingers in his cold hand and pressed his lips lightly against them.

"Your wife looks stunning, Tiberius," he praised her, turning to her husband. Cassandra felt a flicker of irritation. None of the men spoke directly to her, as if she were an object rather than a person. She quickly pulled her fingers from his grasp. Geta immediately looked at her, his dark eyes no longer smiling. Cassandra couldn’t help but think that, in that moment, he and his brother looked more alike than ever and she suddenly felt the urge to leave, to hide from the weight of his gaze, from the tightness of his lips and his clenched jaw muscles visibly twitching beneath his pale skin. Had her small gesture really angered him so much?

She never got an answer. Geta returned to his seat beside his brother, turning his attention to General Acacius, who was also in the box. Cassandra sat down next to her husband, right behind the daughter of the late Emperor Marcus Aurelius—Lucilla.

The woman leaned back against the carved chair and quietly spoke to her:

"I know your father, child, a good man. I’m glad to see you here."

Cassandra smiled, flattered. Finally, someone was speaking to her as an equal, especially someone like the beloved daughter of the great emperor. Catching her husband’s approving nod, Cassandra leaned toward the woman, continuing the simple conversation. Here, far from home, it was rare to have such a casual, kind-hearted talk.

The fights were already underway in the arena, and all the attention in the box was focused on the gladiators. Only she and Lucilla were not captivated by the battles. Truth be told, she was trying not to watch the arena at all, instead asking her companion about trivial things that piqued her curiosity.

When Lucilla didn’t answer her question, Cassandra grew puzzled, but then noticed that the woman was staring straight ahead, down at the arena, clearly lost in troubling thoughts. Another dangerous maneuver, and blood spilled across the sand, prompting a roar from the crowd.

Cassandra quickly turned away and caught the gaze of Emperor Caracalla. He was watching them over his shoulder, shifting his eyes from her to Lucilla. The red lips of the Caesar curled into a smile again, this time different—no longer cruel, but genuinely pleased, as if they had done something to please him. Still smiling, Caracalla turned away. Neither Lucilla nor Tiberius noticed the strange look from the young emperor, but she did. It wasn’t angry or annoyed. Maybe she had misjudged him? He seemed almost sweet now, in a way, charming. She immediately shook her head, pushing away the improper thoughts.

After the games, everyone was invited to continue the evening in the imperial palace. To Cassandra’s surprise, Tiberius agreed immediately when he heard that General Acacius would also be present.

The palace was nothing like Senator Thraex’s house. The luxury of the imperial halls made her mouth fall open and left her feeling like a country bumpkin. The guests here were even more distinguished than at the senator’s home, and she felt uncomfortable. Cassandra wanted to find Lucilla, to talk to her, perhaps then the evening would be more enjoyable, but Tiberius stopped her.

"Wait here, I have a little business to take care of."

She had no choice but to stand alone by the lavishly laden table. She didn’t feel like eating or drinking. Tiberius was gone longer and longer, and inside her, frustration began to boil. Some guests stole glances at her, quietly whispering among themselves. The young wife from a fallen house was hardly an important figure, but her husband—he was. Unable to stand it any longer, she quickly stepped out onto the wide balcony, holding her tunic and greedily breathing in the air, leaning against the railing.

The sun was setting behind the horizon, painting Rome before her in red.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?"

She quickly turned at the sound of the male voice. A respectable matron shouldn’t be alone with another man. And then she froze.

Red on red. The fading sun’s rays turned Emperor Caracalla’s red hair to flame, his clothes bled scarlet, and his jewelry shimmered. Too bright, too much red, with only his face pale, lifeless.

"My Emperor," she respectfully lowered her head, completely unsure how to act.

"Where is your husband?" He looked her up and down, examining her slowly, his mouth slightly open, before his gaze lingered on her face, not allowing her a moment to look away.

"I don’t know, Caesar. He promised to return any moment now," she lied.

"He’s been gone a long time, hasn’t he?" He lazily leaned against a column, continuing to observe her, a smirk exposing her lie.

Her cheeks immediately flushed, and she didn’t know what to say. She stood there, hands clasped in front of her. Caracalla didn’t seem cruel or frightening. In fact, she had imagined him differently before this meeting. The emperor was short, delicate, with no sharp angles—only soft, flowing lines accentuated by jewels and fine clothing. She could have sworn that if she got any closer, they’d be the same height. Apparently, this didn’t bother him in the least, as he continued to look at her with that condescending gaze, like she was a foolish child.

"How long have you been married?"

The question was tactless, but he was the emperor, and his questions could not be ignored.

"Six months," she replied reluctantly.

"Are you carrying a child?" His gaze immediately darted to her stomach.

Cassandra felt herself blushing more and more. It was not fitting for her to talk about such things. Moreover, the topic was indeed very painful.

"No. Not yet."

"Why?"

Caracalla approached her slowly, too close for a married woman. She was enveloped by the sweet scent of aromatic oils, powder, and wine. A dizzying mix.

Just as she was about to answer, he spoke again, leaning in too close, taking her hand in his. Gods! Was he flirting with her? What did all this mean? Her face, already red, burned with embarrassment and shame. What if someone saw them? What would they say about her?

Yet, Cassandra could not deny that she enjoyed this attention; it flattered her that the Emperor of Rome himself, the first among equals, showed interest in her. She truly melted...until she heard the next question.

"Does the old senator not fuck you enough? Or can he not do it at all?"

She froze, blinking in shock. What did he say? He looked just as innocent with a soft smile on his face and a curious gaze. Maybe she had misheard?

"I asked, does Senator Tiberius fuck you well?" His thumb pressed into the inner part of her palm, right where she had cut her hand the day before.

His soft white hands turned out to be surprisingly strong and tenacious. Cassandra tried to pull away, to reclaim her hand, but no, the emperor held firm, continuing to press on the wound, turning her hand so he could see the blood welling up from the barely healed cut.

She didn't dare object to him, didn't even dare open her mouth, though the pain was becoming unbearable. With his fingernail, he scraped off the scab, letting a bead of blood form. Cassandra saw how his pupils dilated, filling the blue of his irises with darkness, saw how his nostrils flared. It made her feel vulnerable, unprotected. That brief illusion she had about him shattered. He was cruel and insane, just as they said.

More than anything in the world, she regretted not staying home, safe in her chambers. The anxious realization that she had somehow become the object of his interest made her heart race frantically. Clamping her lips tight, she prayed to the gods for protection. But what use were the gods when here he was, right in front of her – the embodiment of Jupiter himself, father and ruler of Rome. Her lips trembled helplessly, holding back a whimper.

"Doesn't the obedient little bird arouse our stern senator or what? Who's to blame that your womb is still empty?" he purred, running his knuckles over her stomach.

She continued to pray silently for salvation, but who could stand against the Emperor of Rome?

"Brother?" - perhaps only another emperor.

Caracalla's eyes narrowed unkindly, his lips pressed into a line, he was clearly not pleased to see him. Yet he didn't back down, didn't even try to pretend everything was okay. Caracalla still stood inappropriately close, holding her hand in his. What if her husband had walked in? He would hardly have been more frightened by him than by his co-ruling brother. Cassandra swallowed hard.

"Emperor Geta, I…" - her words were ignored as Geta kept his dark eyes fixed on his brother.

"What do you think you're doing?" Emperor Geta whispered, as if fearful they might be overheard. Judging by how he nervously twisted the ring on his finger, Geta was anxious.

"What I said," Caracalla released her hand, giving it one last painful squeeze, but didn't step back, continuing to stand close, "I'm showing attention to the sweet wife of our beloved Senator Tiberius," his lips twisted mockingly.

It became absolutely clear to her why he had turned his attention to her. She was too young to remember those events herself, but from the gossip, Cassandra knew that Tiberius had opposed the boys' appointment as emperors after their father's death. The good relationship between the emperor and the Senate had ended with Marcus Aurelius's death.

"And do you remember what I told you? Or has your memory failed you again?" Caracalla bristled at his brother's words, his brow furrowing. "Why do you never listen to me?"

"And why should I?" The younger emperor's voice was no longer playful or soft, instead, it turned low and hoarse. "Or do you think you're in charge? Do you think I'm your dog?"

She wished she could sink into the ground rather than witness this confrontation. Cassandra took a step back as discreetly as she could, then another, hoping to slip away quietly.

"And who said she minds?" Of course, he noticed her, his blue eyes quickly shifted from his brother to her. Her hand was once again in his tight grip. “Do you mind?”

Oh, how much she minded, but Cassandra knew she couldn’t answer that way. Judging by the angry look in Caracalla’s eyes, she might be thrown right over the balcony.

"To serve the emperor is the highest honor for a Roman citizen," she said quietly, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

"See?" He wrapped his arm around her waist, turning her towards Emperor Geta. "She likes it, so leave us be."

"Go, find your husband," Geta didn't back down, this time addressing her.

"No, she stays!" The hand on her waist tightened, fingers digging into her soft skin. She was hardly that necessary to him, but Caracalla clearly didn't want to yield to his brother.

"You heard me, go, he won't touch you," Geta exhaled wearily, personally approaching them and removing his brother's hands, holding onto her wrist.

Caracalla shot her such a hateful look that she recoiled. Gods, he would kill her! If Geta was his blood, then she was just a worthless simpleton who had rejected an emperor. In terror, she almost ran from the balcony, melting into the crowd. She didn't want to know how the brothers' dispute ended, but she saw four Praetorians enter the balcony just as she left.

⋆ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋆

Thoughts of the emperor's hate-filled gaze didn't leave her even at night, not even when she and her husband lay in bed. How could they, when, as a sign of "friendship and goodwill," the emperors had assigned them quarters right in the palace, insisting that the journey back to their villa was too long?

Here, amidst the gold and silk, she couldn't close her eyes.

Even when her husband was inside her, his hot breath scorching her neck, her mind was elsewhere. It never lasted long and brought her no pleasure. Each time, Cassandra prayed that the seed would take root and these absurd attempts at intimacy would at least pause for a while.

Tiberius, wrapped in a sheet, slept soundly. Her naked body was covered in goosebumps from the cold, but she didn't think to cuddle up to her husband. Knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep, she silently rose from the bed and pulled her husband's short tunic over her head to at least cover her nudity. At home, she could walk around naked, but not here.

The Praetorian at the door didn't surprise her, of course, they had been assigned a guard. Or rather, she had.

"May I go out?" she whispered, trying to appear submissive and innocent, though she was overcome by a strange nervousness and irritability.

He was young, barely older than her, and thus his eyes widened at her appearance, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously.

"The Emperor ordered to watch over your safety," the young man whispered back.

The Emperor. One of them. If it was Caracalla, this felt more like intimidation than concern. If it was Geta, then...it became even more frightening, since the protection was presumably from his own brother.

"You can come with me. I can't sleep," she pleaded.

Under the supervision of the Praetorian, Cassandra went out into a small garden located right inside the palace. She had been there during the day, after the clash with the emperor, but now, in the bright moonlight, everything looked different.

Weary, she sat on the edge of a small fountain topped with a marble statue of a naked nymph. The Praetorian stayed at the entrance, still flustered by her appearance, so she unhesitatingly stretched out her bare feet, dipping her toes into the sand.

The peacocks, sleeping nearby, rustled quietly, disturbed by her presence. Her mother had taught her that peacocks were a symbol of Juno, the wise and brave goddess.

"Grant me strength..." she whispered, looking at the moon.

"A strange place you've chosen for prayer, domina," a man's voice mocked from somewhere above.

She jumped up in fright, quickly pulling her hair from her back to her chest to cover herself. Her gaze darted around until it settled on the balcony directly above the garden.

Emperor Geta stood there, leaning on the railing with his arms, his head tilted to one side. For some reason, she couldn’t help but think of an owl, and almost let out a giggle. He looked different from how she remembered him. Without makeup, laurels, or rich clothing, just a red silk robe and unruly red curls. Apparently, he couldn't sleep either.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to disturb you," she said, lowering her head in shame, hoping Geta was as reasonable as he seemed. Although at one point, she had liked Caracalla too.

"Oh, no, the palace is at your disposal," he said, spreading his arms to encompass everything around. She relaxed.

"You are so kind, Caesar."

"It's the least I can do for you after what my brother did today," his voice grew quieter, more serious.

Was he genuinely concerned about what had happened? She lifted her head again, looking at the emperor and giving him a genuine smile this time. Geta smiled back, nervously licking his lips.

“Nothing terrible happened, but thank you… Thank you for your concern.”

He was still smiling, but his gaze had changed, becoming heavier, almost ominous in the light of the moon and torches.

"Yes, nothing happened…yet. But it will. So, I’ll apologize in advance. You’re no street girl, but what can I do? He’s my brother, and I love him."

She felt as if she'd been doused with ice water. Somewhere behind her came an animalistic screech, and in fear, she turned around, spotting a figure in the darkness. The scream continued as the figure approached. Cassandra already knew who it was. Geta turned out to be just like his brother after all.

The source of the unpleasant screeches turned out to be a small pet monkey perched on Emperor Caracalla's shoulder. Unlike his brother, he was still in his formal attire, minus the laurel wreath. Seeing her distorted face, he grinned as if she were greeting him with nothing less than a joyful smile.

Alone, in just a spacious white tunic, barefoot and with her hair loose, she wanted to cry. He wouldn't let her go just like that, she could see it in his face, his smile, his narrowed eyes - the bad thoughts buzzing in his red-haired head. Silently, he handed the noisy monkey, adorned with a gold chain around its neck, to a young slave, who bowed his head and left the garden.

Now she was his monkey. In his eyes, she had no more rights than that pet creature. Put a collar around her neck, attach a chain, and do whatever you want. The real monkey was luckier.

"What a delightful surprise, my dear," the emperor purred, his voice dripping with honey.

Geta watched from the balcony as if this were a spectacle in the Colosseum. Only she wasn't a gladiator. Cassandra stepped back, and he stepped forward. A cat and mouse game, where the cat would surely devour the mouse.

"Today you broke my heart, sweetheart," he said, closing the distance, "and I’m a bit sensitive, you know," with a couple of long strides, he caught up to her. His touch was like fire, his ring-laden hand caressing her cheek, making her freeze. "But I can also be merciful. Those who apologize properly deserve forgiveness, don't they, little bird?"

She swallowed hard. He didn't know her name, she realized. The humiliation was palpable. Caracalla lowered his hand and leaned in. In terror, she expected a kiss, but instead, he rubbed his nose against her cheek like a cat seeking affection. Her heart raced in her chest. She knew no man but her husband, and these intimate, bold touches terrified her. Once again, the scent of aromatic oils and powder invaded her senses, mixed with his hot, ragged breath. Unconsciously, she exhaled heavily in response.

"Please, no," she pleaded with her last shred of hope.

"No what, wifey? Do the work your senator can't? If the Senate fails, the task falls to the emperors, right, brother?" Caracalla laughed, addressing Geta, who was still watching.

"Right," the other emperor answered hoarsely.

"See? It's all fair. Besides, you told me yourself you were eager to serve Rome, didn't you? I am Rome, I am Jupiter," he breathed hotly into her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

"I am ready to serve you, truly, but not like this... Please!"

And her plea was a colossal mistake. His eyes turned black, all traces of amusement vanished. He seized her neck roughly, turning her back to him, pressing her against the fountain's edge, pinning her down, his body against hers from behind, whispering with malice:

"By the gods, I was merciful, but you test me," his voice breaking, the grip on her throat tightening, "if you try to resist out of some foolish wish to preserve your chastity, I'll kill you right here, and I'll kill that Praetorian too. Your bodies will lie side by side, accused of debauchery, punished for the insult to your husband. Your death will be a disgrace, your body won't even get a proper burial. Understand?"

This time, she couldn't hold back the tears. What was worse, the shameful violation known only to her or the eternal disgrace that would mark her earthly life? Sobbing, she surrendered, relaxing beneath him, and the grip on her throat loosened.

"There we go, cry if you want, but let’s not make a scene, hm? Or do you want the whole palace to hear about our lovely little meeting?”

She shook her head silently, tears flowing incessantly, shame burning her cheeks, as she felt the emperor press against her from behind. The humiliation was compounded by the fact that Emperor Geta still watched, and at the entrance, she was absolutely sure, Praetorians stood guard.

"Tell me, how does your husband take you? I've always been curious about what that old bastard is like behind closed doors," his tone shifted every moment, now, Caracalla was tender, nuzzling her neck so she felt his gold earring glide through her hair. His lips touched her earlobe, first softly, teasingly, then his teeth took over, sharp and greedy. She gasped, but didn't protest. "Stay silent and I won't be gentle," he warned.

"Listen to him, girl, you might enjoy it," Geta's voice cut through from above.

"So, does he take you from behind, like a bitch in heat?" He thrust against her, testing, grinding into her hips. A soft moan escaped his lips, and to her horror, that sound resonated warmly in her abdomen, spreading lower.

She had stopped crying and now just breathed heavily, feeling him grip her hips as he rubbed against her. She couldn't ignore the hot hardness of his body, especially when one hand pressed down on her lower back, making her arch more. The tunic shamelessly rode up, exposing her thighs.

"So how then? Tell me, dear," he whispered hoarsely, continuing to move.

"He...he's not very tender, and my pleasure doesn't concern him much. I just lie on my back while he does his thing," she blurted out. Why had she said that!? Cassandra immediately bit the inside of her cheek, cursing herself.

"Ah, the Senator doesn't satisfy his lovely young wife? What a waste!" She felt his hot tongue trail down her neck, his grip on her hips tightening, his nails digging into her skin, causing a slight pain as his hand went to her neck, squeezing...and felt a heat between her legs. May the gods curse her! He was a demon, sent to test her, to challenge her will!

"But don’t worry, I’ll take care of that" his whisper broke, his lips finding that tender spot where her neck met her shoulder, deceptively gentle before he kissed her, then Cassandra felt pain. He bit her, quietly growling and pressing his whole body against hers, thrusting his hips once more before he stilled. With her bare skin, she felt the fabric of his tunic dampen. Biting her lip, she dropped her head, trying not to cry again. That slight arousal she had felt receded.

To her tear-stained face, he responded with laughter, reminding her she was just a monkey on a gold leash. That he hadn't taken her today meant nothing. A humiliating slap on her cheek, and a sneering smile were his parting gifts. And in his cold, almost glassy eyes, there was no sign of amusement.

"Tomorrow we have more games, don't forget!" - and she knew Emperor Caracalla spoke not just of the gladiators.

[magicalbats]

Kinktober 2024 Day 6: Lighter x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 6664

Warnings: Afab!reader, friends with benefits, casual sex, body worship, mirror sex, blowjob, deep throating, brief cunnilingus, piv

A/N: This guy is so cool, I really hope this doesn't end up being too ooc since he was only just introduced and we still don't know a whole lot about him. 🫣

⭐

Nights out in the desert lean towards chilly but with a raging bonfire going you almost don’t even notice it. Not until you step away from the hotly licking flames anyway, and then you find yourself burrowing deeper into your coat for insulation from the wind. If the need to find some trouble to get into hadn’t been brewing like a storm in the back of your mind you would have been perfectly content to stay right where you were for the rest of the evening until it came time for bed, but that persistent tug has you scanning through the gathered crowd for an all too familiar face. 

You spot Lucy and Caesar easily enough, though as usual they were a little hard to miss when they couldn’t seem to get along for more than five minutes at a time. Sometimes you wondered how they managed to work together at all given the obvious tensions between them but it wasn’t really your place to pry. The Sons of Calydon were good to the people who made Blazewood their home and you liked them better than some of the other biker gangs at least. Eccentricities aside, they were just fine in your book. 

Neither of them were the one you sought though, so you keep making your way around the perimeter of the crowded area. It wasn’t often that everyone gathered for a celebration like this but the Sons, true to nature, tended to liven up the place whenever they came through. One of the many services you probably owed them thanks for. 

And then you finally spot him, just when you were starting to wonder if he’d turned in for an early night. Slouched in a banged up lawn chair someone had dug out from who only knows where with a stout glass full of something dark braced on the bend of his knee. Cool and casual. Yep, that was Lighter down to the letter. 

Stuffing your hands into the pockets of your jacket, you shuffle over to come up alongside where he’s sat in a loosely formed circle with a handful of other men, no doubt shooting the shit with each other which you thoroughly interrupt with your appearance. That he’d retreated to this reclusive side of the field where the girls were less likely to impede on his very important masculine brooding with like minded individuals does not escape your notice but too bad for him. 

You were not someone Lighter could easily ignore just as you had a hard time ignoring him whenever he happened to be around, and you allow yourself a small smile when he tips his head back to look up at you through the tinted lenses of his sunglasses. Still wearing them even now, when it was completely dark out and he probably couldn’t make out much of anything through them as a result. What a dork. 

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” He volleys right back, not missing a beat as he bobs his chin at you in relaxed greeting. “Good to see you. I was wondering if you’d stop by to pay me a visit tonight.” 

“Putting aside the fact that I always come see you, don’t you think it might be nice if you were the one who came to me sometimes? I’ve been standing over by the fire for a while now.”

A vaguely mischievous smile pulls at his mouth. “What, you want me to start following you around like a lovesick pup now? I seem to recall you giving me completely different instructions before.” 

“All I’m saying is some initiative might win you a few favors in the long run.” You shoot back, pinning Lighter with a playfully rueful look while you try very hard not to laugh. 

“Well, a man could always use more favors. What sort of initiative were you hoping for?” 

“Please, why would I tell you and ruin the fun of watching you try to figure it out on your own? And besides, it wouldn’t count for much if I just gave you all the answers.” 

This back and forth game with him already has you feeling eager and excited while you stand there, idly rocking on your toes in anticipation of his next move. But then he noises a brief sound of rumbling consideration before reaching out to suddenly snag your forearm with a hand gloved in leather. 

It happens much too quick for you to pull away or react beyond the giggling squeak you let out when he yanks you down across his lap. The two of you had known each other for a very long time now and these sorts of physical exchanges were common enough that no one really questioned it any more, though you’re still keenly aware of the other men that are gathered around politely turning their attention elsewhere. Breaking off into their own smaller groups, starting up their own snippets of conversation. It’s like they didn’t even see the two of you sitting there anymore, which comes as a relief while you work to get settled into place atop his legs, using a hand curved over his broad shoulder for stability. 

You and Lighter weren’t actually together, nor were you an item in any sense of the word, but you also weren’t just friends either. Everyone knew that so there wasn’t much point in hiding it. A lot of good it would have done you anyway when the communities scattered across the Outer Ring were so small and tight knit that keeping secrets often felt like an impossibility. 

So you look down into his face head on, openly grinning now as he minutely shifts underneath you to get comfortable again. He’s so firm and sturdy that it takes a great deal of self control on your part not to start kissing him right then and there. The two of you might not try all that hard to hide whatever was going on here but you still had some polite sensibilities left to your name. 

“Alright, sugar,” He intones, juggling his drink over to the opposite hand so he can casually set his arm across your lap while the other loosely curls around your hip. Just to make sure you don’t accidentally fall off, you’re sure. “I’m listening. Tell me what it is you want.”

“I’d think that should be obvious by now.” 

“You’re insatiable.”

“Only when it comes to you.” Lightly teasing a finger over one of the metal spikes on his biker jacket, you give him a pointed little smile. “Maybe if I saw you more often than every few weeks I’d get bored of it but you know how to keep a girl coming back for more, don’t you? Never give her enough to get complacent, just enough to become addicted.” 

“Hey now. That makes me sound like some kind of scheming playboy. I’m sure you know I’d give it to you every day if I could.” 

Your pussy distantly clenches at the thought, and you sit up a little straighter to subtly press down on his thigh. It was so unfair how easily he could drive you wild. Sometimes you didn’t think the playboy label was all that inaccurate, but then he’d say or do something so goofy that it completely shattered that impression of him in your mind. Despite how it looked he wasn’t actually some disloyal womanizer incapable of commitment, just someone with a lot of baggage and a long past. That’s all. 

But really, who couldn’t say the same in the Outer Ring? 

“That’s sweet but you shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep, Lighter.” 

“It’s not for a lack of wanting, trust me.” He assures you, giving the meat of your hip a brief squeeze. “The Sons have just been busy lately. You know that. But once we win the Tour de Inferno - -“ 

“You’ll have better routes and less busy work. I’ve heard it before.” Sighing softly, you lift your hand from his shoulder to reach up and cradle a mostly smooth cheek in your palm. You could just feel the faintest hint of stubble starting to grow back after his morning shave much earlier in the day but the scratch of it registers as pleasant rather than disagreeable. “It doesn’t really matter in the end I guess. No strings attached, that was what we agreed on. I just worry about you sometimes. Even if it’s not for me, at least try to swing by more often so I can feed you. I’ll even make extra for the girls.” 

“I’m sure they’ll like that.” He murmurs, peering at you now over the top of his shades with an unwavering, plainly heated look that makes a shudder work down your spine. 

You stare into his face for another moment longer until the magnetic pull of his mouth becomes too much for you to resist, and you lean down to claim those sinfully inviting lips for yourself. Lighter readily returns the favor with a steady push and pull that only coaxes you further into your vibrating need for him, unable to reject it even if you’d wanted to. 

And you most certainly don’t want to. 

Realizing that you really can’t wait any longer to have him, you pull back just enough to speak against his mouth. “Take me home, Lighter. I want to be alone with you.” 

“If that’s what you want.” He husks, his tone dropped to a secretive but no less simmering drawl now. “Your wish is but my command, princess.”  

Bracing to stand, you ready to hop up from his lap but he manages to catch you off guard when he locks his arm around your middle and carefully eases himself out of the chair so he can rise to his feet with a rumbling groan for effect. You weren’t exactly a delicate waif but he’d picked you up far too many times for you to be surprised by his strength, and your pulse just quickens in excitement while you dangle a foot or so off the ground from his hold. 

Pausing there, Lighter lifts his glass to his mouth and tips his head back to down the whole thing in a quick gulp. You watch him do it with attentive fascination, admiring the defined line of his jaw and the thick bob of his Adam’s apple, but then he’s gently sliding you down to stand on your own and you take a reluctant step back from him. Everyone who’d come out for the bonfire didn’t need to see him carrying you off into the night like a caveman so you couldn’t argue the logic in letting you walk by yourself. But that doesn’t stop you from missing the warmth of his body pressed up against you, or the heady scent of him drowning out your sense of smell. 

Soon enough that would be rectified though, and together the two of you start to make your way back towards the gas station in companionable silence. 

It’s a quiet walk save the drone of conversation and the occasional shouts behind you, but those noises gradually fade the further you get from the gathering. Most of the locals had gone out into the nearby barren field to join the Sons of Calydon in celebrating their return trip from the transport they’d just completed, so the tiny outpost is perfectly still and peaceful when you reach it. 

Even calling it a town would have been quite the stretch when the outcrop of buildings and trailers, and decrepit mobile homes that spring up around the gas station in the center of it had only come into being out of necessity. Blazewood was at best an encampment of refugees but there were a lot of places like that left behind after the Hollow Disaster so it doesn’t look half as depressing as it probably actually is. It’s the only thing you’d ever really known with any familiarity though, and to you it’s home. 

Lighter was too much a roving nomad to have anything similar, save perhaps his band of fellow bikers, but there’s a small part of you that hopes he thinks of your tiny little motel as a kind of home too. He’d certainly been here more than enough times to be intimately familiar with the place and you by extension. 

Treading the exact same steps the two of you had walked many times before, you make your way into the back of what was at one time a supplies building. Your father had worked tirelessly to repurpose it into a place for lodgings, so that the traveling biker gangs would have somewhere to rest at night during their long hauls, and you’d naturally inherited the place from him when you were old enough. Although it had put a bit of a damper on any aspirations you’d once harbored about joining one of the gangs yourself, you’re admittedly glad for it now since it gave you some place to safely retreat to with Lighter at the end of the day. 

You certainly weren’t going to take him to your own room and fuck him on your own bed. That was one of the rules you’d established at the start of all this, more than just a few years ago now. At first it had been solely for practical reasons. Didn’t want him getting the wrong idea or, even worse, give yourself a chance to be fooled into thinking that this was somehow more meaningful than it actually was. He didn’t need to have access to your personal space like that. 

But by now it had become something of a safe neutral zone where both of you could simply let go of whatever roles and responsibilities, obligations and preconceptions you carried with you. Everyone had baggage in the Outer Rings, and neither you or Lighter were any different in that regard. 

But the good news was that both of your tastes aligned in the most delightful of ways, and as you step into your favorite room your eyes come up to look into the reflective surface of the floor length mirror hung on the wall. Between the bed and the claustrophobicbly small toilet closet there wasn’t much else in the tight space to look at. One of the bikers from the previous generation had gifted it to your father after finding it by chance in an old and abandoned warehouse. Evidently it was the only mirror that had still been in one piece after sitting forgotten for so long, and he’d carefully hauled it all the way back to Blazewood in his trailer. 

You suspected your father had at one time toyed with the notion of using this place as a brothel of sorts to make a little extra money on the side, but after you were born shortly thereafter it seemed he no longer had the heart to follow through on it. That was fine though, because this room and its mirror had still seen more than its fair share of action thanks to you and Lighter. 

The door clicks shut behind you with a sense of finality as you tread across the rough carpet and you eagerly turn to him, just in time for his hands to come up and cradle your cheeks. Firmly tilting your face up at him, he bends down to kiss you again but this time it’s not nearly as polite as it was when you’d had an audience watching. 

His mouth is hungry against yours now, matching your own need to feel him against you, on top of you, inside of you. Groaning softly, you rock forward onto the tips of your toes to better accommodate the height difference and reach up to thread your fingers through his shaggy hair. It’s soft but dry against your skin from all the wind and sand grit that naturally came with riding a motorcycle in the desert, yet you still relish the feel of it against you.

Giving it a slow tug, you tip your head to deepen the exchange and allow his tongue entry to your mouth when it prods at your lips. All at once the taste of him overwhelms your olfactory system in a potent rush made all the more intoxicating by the strong notes of whiskey you can clearly pick up on your tastebuds. You noise a quiet sound of ratcheting pleasure against his mouth while his hands descend upon your body to take greedy, squeezing grabs at whatever part of you he can reach. 

Lighter quickly loses patience for all the clothes standing between the two of you though, and he’s soon tugging at your coat to get it unzipped and tossed aside. You do the same with his leather jacket, fumbling to get it shoved back over his shoulders which he accommodates by helpfully stretching his arms down to let it fall to the floor. Then he’s right back to groping at you through your jeans, giving your ass a tight pinch before redirecting them around to your hips so he can steer you backwards. 

Still kissing his mouth with wild abandon, you let him guide you back to stand almost directly in front of the mirror where you finally manage to pry yourself from him only enough to get his t-shirt pulled up over his head. It leaves him standing there naked from the waist up, his already unruly hair more mussed than it was before, and you quickly bend your head close to flick your tongue over a pert nipple. 

Sighing a low rumble of appreciation, Lighter lifts one of his hands to briefly cradle the back of your head while the other reaches down to tug his belt loose. You know what’s coming and you just purr into his skin as you kiss over the planes of his chest to feel the faint tickle of sparse hair against your lips. Giving his bare sides an encouraging squeeze when the sound of his buckle rattling makes your cunt tighten in anticipation, you latch onto the opposite bud to offer it a taunting love bite. 

But by that time he’s got his thick jeans undone and the hand in your hair closes into a fist, using his hold on you to pull you up with a faltering sound of delight. The tug on your scalp is just sharp enough to make you really want it, stumbling a single, uncertain step before he forces you down onto your knees. You’re so hot with want and fast pumping adrenaline that you don’t even think to fight it as he directs your face to the front of his pants where he somewhat meanly grinds the stiff bulge inside across your mouth. 

Whining a needy little sound in the back of your throat, you quickly reach up to pull his pants down so you can shove your face into his underwear full on. You immediately take a deep, savory inhale to taste the distinct smell of him on the back of your tongue, feeling your slit leak sticky gossamer into your panties while you do it. Gods, he smelled heavenly. 

“Damn,” He issues a barely there groan in response, nudging his hips forward to press his cock tighter against your nose while he distractedly lifts his hands up to pull his gloves off one by one. “You’re gonna’ be the death of me at this rate, sugar. Maybe it’s for the best I can’t come see you more often. I don’t think there’d be anything left of me.” 

That brings a smile to your face as you roll your eyes upward to pin him with a sly look. He probably wasn’t wrong about that. It hadn’t taken you long to realize that most men struggled to keep pace with you but for his part Lighter certainly made the effort whenever he could. You’d likely have him completely drained within a week. 

It’s clear the powerful champion of Calydon isn’t intimidated though, and he gives his sunglasses a quick adjustment where they’d started to inch down — insisting they stay on even now, the goof — before shuffling back half a step. 

You almost catch yourself mewling a quiet sound of disappointment but then he’s bending low to hook his fingers in the hem of your top and pull it up. An impressively well practiced motion of his hand soon has your bra falling loose around your shoulders before it quickly joins everything else on the floor in a rumpled heap of all your discarded clothes. 

An intense tremble works through your body at the sensation of your bare tits cutting through the air, already stiff and seeking attention. Still bending at the waist, Lighter takes a moment to briefly cup your breasts in his calloused palms and lift them, encouraging you to arch your back to better present your chest. He hunches even closer then and gives each nipple a savory kiss to tease the sensitive flesh, eliciting another groan of pleasure from you when he moves to straighten up again. 

One of his hands is immediately back in your hair and he roughly pulls you in against him as he closes the distance, rubbing your face against his cock once again. Unable to go another moment without him in your mouth, you dig your fingers into his dark boxer briefs so you can yank them down to pool in his jeans where they were still tucked into his boots. 

The hard length of him promptly springs up into the scant space between you and just brushes the kiss swollen pucker of your mouth to leave behind a faintly sticky trail. Bracing one hand on a powerfully lean thigh, you use the other to take hold of him in a tight grip and give it a few perfunctory tugs to ease the foreskin back. You can clearly see the flushed glans glinting in the overhead light with a sheen of sticky arousal which you coquettishly lick up to get your first taste of him for the evening. 

Groaning quietly in appreciation, Lighter settles into a wide legged stances with his feet braced far apart while the hand on your head firmly guides you forward to take him in. And you do so with great enthusiasm, sliding your mouth down to about the halfway point of his shaft where the head of him starts to tickle at your throat. 

From the corner of your eye you can just make out what’s happening in the reflection of the mirror, the tall tell bob of your head while you work him over with your tongue to build up more saliva and the very noticeable way your tits shift with the motion. It makes you feel ten times hotter, squirming there on the floor at his feet while you watch yourself suck him off. As far as visuals go it was incredibly satisfying to observe in real time, which was exactly why both of you loved this room so much. You’d had to use a different one on a few occasions, when he’d shown up unexpectedly and this room was already occupied by someone else, but it was never the same. Nothing quite compared to the front row seat you had here, getting to watch him fuck you and go down on you, to see yourself spread out on his thick cock and pushed straight to the limit of your physical abilities. 

They made video recording devices in the city, or so you’d heard, and you had half a mind to try it out sometime with him just to get a different perspective. But such technology didn’t last long all the way out here when the ether corruption was so high that most anything that wasn’t analogue didn’t survive for even a whole month. The mirror had served you well up until now though, and you savoringly pull back as you turn your head to watch the shuddering string of spittle stretch between his stiff cock and your mouth before breaking apart. 

Looking into your own reflection, you’re struck by how very needy you look in that moment with eyes blown wide under the heavy droop of your lashes and flushed, kiss swollen lips coated in a sheen of saliva. Lighter knows you a little too well though, and he rumbles a masculine sound when he shifts the position of his hand to better grip your hair so he can turn your face up and around to make you look at him instead. 

“Getting distracted there, sugar?”

Feeling punchdrunk on something stronger than any drink you’d had at the bonfire, you blithely nod your head in agreement. He hadn’t really needed to ask and the way he pins you with a barely there smirk assures you he’d already known the answer. But that was how the two of you played this game no matter how overly familiar you got with each other's bodies, and yet it never seemed to truly get old. 

Neither does the way he expertly uses the fistful of hair he’s got in his hold to force your mouth back down, rudely shoving his cock past lips and teeth, and a squirming tongue so he can prod at the back of your throat. The glide of satiny flesh is smooth and nearly seamless when he sedately thrusts his hips back and forth, back and then forth again, thanks in no small part to the excess of spit forming along your palate. And you just keep drooling all the more excessively the longer he does it, coaxing your salivary glands to work overtime for him until you can feel it bubbling out to dribble down your chin.

Only then does Lighter at last shove himself forward in tortuous slow motion to slide down your gullet one sinful inch at a time. You feel the customary jump in your pulse at suddenly finding your airway blocked and the alarm of pressure pushing in on your throat but force yourself to relax into it. The eventual tickle of coarse pubic hair brushing your nose lets you know when you’ve taken it all and you gurgle a wet sound of pleasure around his length when he makes a point of grinding your face down, holding you there for a prolonged beat. 

Then he’s pulling you back, using your hair to smoothly guide your neck where he wants it to go and dislodge himself from your throat in the process. A fresh wave of copious, sticky spit comes out with him, leaving you kneeling there gasping for air as thick wads of saliva roll down your face. You blearily glance up through the reflexive moisture in your eyes while he gives you a moment to catch your breath only to suck in a rattling gasp when you see how very wrecked you look in the mirror. But he’s not quite through with your mouth just yet, and he repeats the process a handful of times more until you’re dizzily swaying at his feet from the head rush. 

You’re so delirious with it, in fact, that by the time he bends down to get on your level again you almost don’t even notice how close he suddenly is. Not until Lighter takes your wet face between his hands and angles your attention up at him. Reeling and hungry to have his mouth on yours, you eagerly rock forward to catch his lips, but he keeps you firmly in place while he presumably looks over your expression. 

It was sometimes hard to tell through those damned sunglasses. 

“Still doing good, princess?” 

“Y - yeeah …” You groan, forcing your neck to work on an unsteady bob. 

“Good.” Swooping in too quick for you to react, he presses a hard, firm kiss to your temple and then pulls away so he can carefully unwind his fingers from your hair. 

Even this late in the game you still know what he’s about to do because the two of you have done this about a hundred different times now. Same song, different dance — and yet that doesn’t stop the little squeak of excitement you give when he grabs under your arms to lift you up off the floor. Without his jacket in the way you can see all the tension running through his muscles, scarred skin bulging under the strain of your weight, but he doesn’t even falter. He’s as steady as solid iron, and just as strong too. 

Smoothly turning on his heel, Lighter tosses you onto the bed where you bounce once, twice, then his hands are on your hips to yank you back closer to the edge. Panting and breathless, you glance up at him while he stands between your legs, heavy hands working to get your jeans unfastened. His shades have slid forward on the bridge of his nose at some point in all that messing around, and he now sends you a steely look from over the top of them. 

“What did I say?” He murmurs, the fond note in his voice doing little to soften the masculine rumble behind the words. “Insatiable.” 

“Not my fault.” You purr back, grinning. “Maybe you should try being less amazing in the sheets.” 

Sending you a rueful look, Lighter grabs the top of your open pants and yanks them down your legs, knocking your shoes off in process with a dull thump on the floor. Your panties are quick to go next and, momentarily left to your own devices while he kicks off his own boots and jeans, you roll over onto your stomach so you can jut your ass up in the air. Giving it a playful, taunting wiggle, you glance back at him over your shoulder with a sly smile. 

Alright, so he wasn’t wrong. You were insatiable, but could anyone really blame you? 

Cooly watching the display from under his tousled hair, he shoots you a quick look of warning while he leans down to get his underwear pulled off. The weighty bob of his cock between his legs makes you pussy clench and you bite down on your lip as you invitingly arch your back for him. 

“Careful, sugar. You’re looking for trouble tonight.” 

“Mmm, then why don’t you come punish me?” 

He scoffs a hushed laugh at the taunt, casually stepping into the space between your dangling feet again. Both of his hands come down on your ass at the same time, the deafening crack doing more to startle a sound of surprise out of you than the starburst of pain that comes with it, but it’s quickly followed by an appreciative groan when he squeezes the cheeks pinchingly tight and spreads them open. 

You feel him lean close then and you screw your eyes shut, seething a sensitive whine through your teeth when he runs his tongue from one end of your slit straight down to the other, getting a good taste of your arousal along the way. He takes a moment to just leisurely eat you out from the back like he had all night to wind you up tighter and tighter, the firm nudge of him against your clit making your thighs judder. It doesn’t last long enough to send you over the edge though, just encouraging you a little closer to the edge of oblivion before he straightens up behind you again. 

Stretching, Lighter reaches around you then to snag one of the pillows from the headboard which he tosses down next to your head before moving to sit next to you. At his hushed coaxing, you stiffly sit up and let him pull you over into his lap where you eagerly lean into him for a kiss, soft tits pushing into the firm planes of his chest. 

He indulges you only briefly though, letting you get a good taste of yourself on his tongue before pulling back enough to speak. “Turn around for me, princess. Gonna’ make you watch while I split that little cunt in half. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

Just hearing him talk like that makes every single nerve ending in your body tense up to the point of real discomfort and you shudder fiercely even as you work to get spun around, tossing your leg over his hip so you can get settled across Lighter’s stomach. But even knowing good and well how strong he is wasn’t quite enough to fully ease your concerns about sitting on top of him. It makes you carefully hold yourself so you don’t put too much of your weight on him but he’s quick to smooth his palms down your sides to take bruising hold of your hips, forcing you to sit all the way and keeping you locked right where you are. 

While he gets situated behind you, laying back on the pillow he’d grabbed, you steal a harried glance at yourself in the mirror. Somehow this part always manages to surprise you, how soft and voluptuous you look against all the hard muscle and masculine angles of his body. Tits heavy and full, your pussy shamelessly spread open for him and the rigid length of him spearing up in the air between your legs. The visual alone is enough to nearly send you into free fall, and the knowledge that he was about to stuff that thick cock inside your body … you felt like you were going to cum before he even put it in you. 

“Nnghn, Lighter … fuck!” 

He softly shushes you, jostling you slightly as he at last tightens his fingers on your hips to lift your pelvis and guide your cunt into position over him. The shift forces you to go up on your toes, hands splayed out behind you across his flexing abdominals to steady your balance. 

And you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the reflection now when he uses his braced feet on the floor to push up, sending his cock skirting along your sticky slit. You suck in a wet, faltering breath, arching your back to better angle your pussy down. He tries again, slipping and sliding through soaked fleshy lips, and the glans successfully catches at your entrance on the second attempt. 

You almost breathe a shuddering sigh of relief but then he’s pushing into you, good on his word of making you watch him split you in half. The gummy stretch of your body gradually taking him in one fraction of an inch at a time makes you feel faint from how hard your arousal spikes but you deliriously force yourself to keep watching. It’s fascinating, in a way, how his length slowly disappears inside you and demands your tight inner sleeve make room for him until he’s finally sheathed in you straight down to the base. 

Sitting there on top of him like that, cunt stuffed full and blissfully aching, you let out a low, mewling groan of satisfaction as your head starts to loll back as if in a doped out stupor. That little bit of reprieve in which he allows you to adjust is short lived though, and Lighter issues a rumbling groan of his own when he starts to move. 

The immediate heavy bounce of his ballsack excites you almost as much as the heavy jiggle of your tits does, and you cry out at the blindingly sharp bursts of ecstasy that shoot through your system each time he takes an upward jab up into your guts. You can see everything clearly in the mirror from your own pleasure stricken expression and the sweat coating your body down to the vigorous flex of muscle along his thighs. It doesn’t take long for it to start feeling overwhelming in this position though, your cunt completely defenseless and at his mercy like this, and your legs soon begin to tremble when the internal pressure steadily climbs. But the meaty slap of his pelvis driving against your ass and the accompanying wet clicks of your pussy sucking him in deep almost overwhelms any other sounds, and you nearly miss the hushed grunt of his voice when he speaks over your own desperate bleating. 

“Goddamn, you’re taking me so well, sugar … nnghnohh, yeeaah. You like that dick in your little pussy, huh? Already getting so tight for me … aghh, gonna’ cum all over this cock, aren’t you? Gonna be a good girl for me?” 

“Y - yes! I’m - I’m gonna’ — ahhghnn!”

Unable to take the relentless pounding anymore, you gingerly try to lift your lower body from the total onslaught but he just squeezes your hips hard enough to bruise, holding you firmly in place. There’s no escape from him or his cock, and you shudderingly squirm on top of him as your cresting pleasure just continues to climb higher and higher. It was like he was specifically made to fit you, each little ridge and veiny bump along his shaft perfectly stoking the blaze inside your body until it felt like you were going to combust. 

Still, it wasn’t quite enough to tip you over the edge though, and you precariously hang there in the balance, sobbing in pleasure, until he at last slides one of his hands inward to direct the blocky fingers towards your slit. You can see his intention clearly in the mirror's reflection but with your own hands braced behind you there’s nothing you can do to stop it from happening. Gently at first, then more vigorously, Lighter rubs over your clit with a steady motion that quickly has you teetering over into the awaiting abyss below. 

And for a split second you get to watch yourself cum, get to see the way your whole body seizes up and uncontrollably shakes, how your expression twists in deeply felt relief, before it becomes too much to bear. Your eyes screw shut as you wildly jerk through your orgasm, wailing up at the ceiling while he just continues to pet you and fuck his cock into your pulsing cunt to drag it out. 

You briefly think you might actually die there like that, stretched out on him with your heart jackhammering such a violent rhythm it seems a small wonder you don’t kick the bucket, but at last you finally start to come down from it one fragmented piece of you at a time. It’s a process to refit the pieces back together again but when you finally manage to stir from your semi comatose state, you find Lighter still slowly thrusting into your fluttering cunt to milk every lost drop out of your release. 

At the deeply ruffled, frazzled sound you let out, he seems to realize you’re starting to recover and he seamlessly flips you over onto your stomach with a well practiced twist. Stretching out over top of you to pin your heaving body down, he finds your numb hands with his own so he can direct them high up on the bed and leave you prone underneath him. 

“Well, princess,” He murmurs right into your ear to make you whine a muffled groan into the sheets. “It looks to me like you might’ve finally bitten off a bit more than you can chew. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so tame. Still want more?” 

You quickly nod your head, trying in vain to arch your ass up into him, but it was impossible when his sturdy weight was settled on top of you like that and all you end up doing is restlessly squirming under him. It doesn’t matter though and it doesn’t stop you from trying. That was perhaps the best orgasm you’d ever had and you were still hungry for more. Voracious, even. 

“Yes, yes, yes — please, Lighter, please. Give me more.”

Softly clicking his tongue, he presses his mouth against the side of your head in another hard, toe curling kiss before pulling back enough to rumble a tender, “Insatiable brat.” 

And you really can’t argue against it.

⭐

Crossposted: here

[fakesimp]

A Gift — ft. Lighter

Fluff ; Established Relationship

A/n — Happy birthday Lighter, my love, my Champion.

You're stumped, you have no idea, what to give to the champion. Left wondering if he even remember his own birthday, he should be, right? ..right?

And now here you are, feeling restless as you watch him fight in the ring, winning every single one like the champion he is. Sometimes will glance down to you who's in the crowd, watching him landing punches to his opponent.

It's 4 days before his birthday, Burnice somehow slip up a party conversation for Lighter 3 days ago, you didn't know what the party was for until she told you that your beloved Champion's birthday is coming up. Leaving you in slight panic since you had forgotten about it and have no idea what to give him, now you feel guilty for not remembering his birthday.

So now, your attention is divided into two, watching him in the ring whilst also trying to think of what to give to him. And everything clicks after you got everything planned, it's not too much, not too fancy, but you believe this is enough for him. He probably won't be too fond of anything too fancy right?

So a new day arrives, the first thing you do in the morning, is admiring your man beside you, leaving a short kiss on his forehead, before leaving the bed— well that was the plan till he pulled you back down, postponing your plan for a bit.

"Where are you going at such early hour? I thought we're gonna be all cuddly and things today." He said, seeming a bit sour at the thought of you leaving so early. His arms around your waist, preventing you to leave the bed. "C'mon, just a bit longer. M'tired, can't you pity this champion for a bit?" He let out a groggy chuckle at his own words, "You're the one that's being unexpectedly clingy, not that I'm complaining.." You lowered yourself down, pulling his head close to your chest as you ran your fingers through his hairlocks. Earning a satisfied hum from the male in your arms, maybe you can relax for a bit and start your plan a little late.

After postponing for almost 3 hours, huddled in bed with him, now you're on your way to the flower shop in Lumina square, Dew Gardening Shop. Planning to buy a bouquet for him, and will take the bouquet on his special day. You ponder what flower to buy though, it took you a good while to figure out what flower to buy and you end up with multiple, Red Orchids, Red and Pink Carnations, Red Tulips, Edelweiss, and The classic red roses.

They're mostly red, you chuckled at the choices, maybe his red scarf truly made him so identic, you couldn't even go anywhere without associating the color red to him. Red equals Lighter. After you're done, you told Orchidea that you'll pick them up exactly at 27th.

The bouquet is done, now it's the present, you tried to go here and there, for almost 2 days, you couldn't find it, and you finally relents and asked for Caesar's help to find it.

It's a bell, A Guardian bell. For him.

Thank the God's above the girls helped you finding one, and bought one for you, Burnice was so ecstatic when she knew you're preparing a present for him, though you are feeling quite, not well with the choice you did.

"Hey, it's okay, it's the thought that counts. You preparing a gift for him, i bet he's going to feel all giddy receiving one from you" Lucy said, patting your back as you stare at the small gift that's already wrapped tidily by you. "Yeah! I bet Lighter will love it! Maybe he'll even show them off too." Burnice added, the girls truly made you feel better.

"Thank you guys, I appreciate it. A lot."

And so the day of his Birthday arrives, your eyes flutter open at the sound of your alarm, turning it off you turned to the man beside you, who's sleeping facing down, wearing absolutely nothing on the top, exposing his back for your eyes to see.

The sight of his scars adorning his skin, made you slowly trace your fingers on them, feeling his muscle tensed up under your touch. You then heard a grumble coming from him, he turned his head to you. His hair is literally covering his face. Making you chuckle as you brush them away, "Good morning My Champion." You greeted him, scooting closer to kiss his temple. His arm draped over your waist, pulling you close, he pecked your lips. "Morning.." he replied groggily, you can never move on from how hot he sounds every morning.

You ran your fingers through his hairlocks, hearing him letting out a content sigh as he nuzzled his face to your neck. "Are you leaving early again?" He asked, it's because the last few days you really left him at such early hour, leaving this needy man all alone in bed. Though he didn't want to bother you about it, so he let you go. But today he seemed a bit more clingier than usual, he doesn't seem like he's going to let you go anytime soon.

Last night before you part ways with the girls, you asked them to bring the bouquet for you, somehow your guts are telling you in the morning the man himself won't let you go.

And it actually happened.

"No," You play with his hair as you reply in a whisper, "I've done what I need to do, we can spend the rest of the day together." You added, earning a soft hum from him. "Caesar told me that I'm getting a day off today, I don't know why, I can't really argue with her so, I don't know what to do now." He kissed your neck after he explained his situation, it was you who asked her to tell him to get a day off today. You love her and the girls for being such an amazing wingman.

"Well, I also don't know what to do, maybe we'll figure it out as the time goes on." You press your lips on top of his head, now what you have to do is to wait for the perfect moment to give the present.

But when will that time come? Is it okay to give it to him now? You feel the excitement building up for giving him the present, but at the same time you feel nervous for his reaction. Afterall what you bought for him is something small, but as the girls said, it's the thought that counts. And the present you're planning to give holds so much meaning for bikers like them, since they ride so much into the dangers.

Ah, whatever! You pouted and shook your head, you poked his back, making the male that's currently on your chest wiggled slightly at that action. "What?.." "Get off for a minute, I need to get something." He didn't move for solid 10 minutes, until he begrudgingly move himself from on top of you. "You're not leaving me again now are you?" "No Lighter, I'm just getting something from the wardrobe. Wait there okay?"

His words made you chuckle, he really such a loveable man. Making you want to spoil him with love, much love. You went over to the wardrobe, rummaging through them trying to find that small wrapped gift for him, after you found it. You hid them away from his sight, you saw him laying there, on his sides, the blanket covering nothing, just from his hips all the way down to his foot.

His bare chest exposed for you to admire, his messy hair, his eyes looking at you with so much love and tinged with curiosity. "What you got there?" He asked, his eyes following you as you walk over to his side of the bed, sitting by the edge, he looked at you. Waiting, for your explanation at least.

But just as you're about to explain, someone's knocking by the door, making both of you just jolted in surprise, "I'll get it, stay in bed." Lighter was just about to hop off before he just lay back down again chuckling.

Closing the door of your shared bedroom, you hurriedly went to the front door, it was the girls, smiling at you whilst holding the Bouquet you ordered from Orchidea, "Thank you so much." You whispered, hugging them for a moment before stepping away, earning a whispered good lucks from them before they leave.

Walking back to the bedroom, holding the Bouquet, standing by the closed door, you placed the small gift in between the flower. You contemplate for a moment, should you just walk in or do you call him to go outside. After a good minute of contemplation, you decided to go in, only for you to see the door swung open with him looking down at you holding the Bouquet in hand.

"I," He blinked, staring down at you. "Wait, what day is it today, did I miss our anniversary—" "Lighter no, you dork." You let out a hearty laugh as you hid your embarrassment behind the bouquet. "It's your birthday, I couldn't get you anything.. so I bought you a bouquet and .. that little gift"

You heard a small 'oh' from him, soon enough you felt his rough hands brushing against yours as he took the bouquet off your hands, he stared at the flowers, and then at the gift. Curiously shaking the tiny box, he heard small jingles. "You didn't have to," he said before leading you and himself to the living room, sitting down by the couch together. He put away the bouquet as he stare at the small gift in his hand, "Is this what I think it is?" He asked, you simply shrugged and smiled at him.

He raised a brow, before sighing lovingly at your lack of response, slowly he unwrap the gift, he was so careful with it as if it was the most fragile thing. The moment he sees what the gift is, you see how his lips parted slightly, taking out the bell, he sway them in between his fingers. Hearing a soft ring from it.

"it's not much but I—" "I love it." He beat you to it, "I love it so much, I, thank you." He look over at you, "I'll place this on my bike," he went over to you, sitting on the floor. He pulled you by the waist, "Lighter—!?" The position is so weird at first, but you work it out, you're sitting by the couch, him literally draping half of himself over your lap, hugging you by the waist. "Thank you so much," He said again,

Oh my god, is he, crying?

"Oh Lighter," You immediately coax him to get up, hugging him properly as he slightly shook in your arms, cooing at him oh so gently as you pat his back and put your hand at the back of his head. "I never thought you're gonna react like this over a bell—" You whispered, you felt his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close he whispered. "You will never believe me when I say, I have been waiting for you to give me that bell for so long, I thought, Maybe I should just give it up." He admitted. Making your heart clench, you hug him closer, his face buried at the crook of your neck.

"But now that I have it, I, I don't know what to say," You can feel his body tremble as he took a deep breath, "... Thank you, so much.." He thanked you for the nth time. You then heard another whisper that made your heart skipped a beat—

"I love you, please don't ever leave me."

"I won't, and will never be. I love you too, Lighter, My Champion."

©fakesimp . 2024 ; Do not copy/translate/use for ai

[rougepancake]

Just My Type

FT. Jonathan Joestar, Joseph Joestar, Jotaro Kujo, Josuke Higashikata, & Giorno Giovanna

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2

WARNINGS: Sexually explicit content under cut. Minors and ageless blogs dni. Fem!Reader. Stalking, panty stealing, inappropriate use of stands, pervy jojos, masturbation, accurate to their individual timelines. Don Giorno and Cop Josuke. NOT PROOFREAD!!

SUMMARY: Perv headcanons for the JoJo’s up through part five. Might make one for the JoBros-

JONATHAN JOESTAR

Out of all of them, he feels the most guilt

He’s a gentleman, after all

First it starts out with him eyeing your body, taking subtle peeks throughout the day

It then escalates to him brushing against you gently, and it kills him

There’s not much he can do outside of watching you and getting off to you before bed

SPEAKING OF THAT-

He humps his pillow

God he’s so desperate and needy too

Especially when you have no idea. For whatever reason, it makes his heart swell

But he feels so bad about it. What if you ever found out? What would you do? Do you feel the same way about him??

Once saw you riding your horse and was genuinely never the same after that

There was something about how determined you looked, with that wistful look in your eyes that just turned him on

He’s so down bad that he asked Dio for advice

“Get her drunk and convince her to stay. She’s stupid enough anyways.” “Grope her… duh…”

Dio does NOT give two shits about wether not his advice is legal

However, Jonathan follows through with the alcohol one

It’s his only chance to get close to you outside of studying alongside you

And to his surprise, you come over and share some wine with him

Thankfully, you wind up getting tipsy first, which gives him the chance to make his move

“Ah, y/n. It’s not safe for you to travel back to your estate in such a condition. Allow me to provide you with somewhere to spend the night.”

He lets you stay in his bed, and even convinces you to wear his clothes to bed

Snuck into the room while you were asleep and just watched you

Oh how he wanted to touch you, to feel you, but he couldn’t. It felt like he couldn’t do anything about his feelings for you and it bothered him so

Also practically ruined his clothes once he got them back. (Listen man sometimes it’s hard to get cum stains out-)

Dio never lets him hear the end of it and proceeds to give him shitty advice

JOSEPH JOESTAR

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again- this man is a WHORE‼️

He has no shame whatsoever and refuses to keep his feelings for you a secret

In fact, you can barely tell if he’s kidding or not when he hits on you

He steals your clothing

Shirts? Gone. Bras? Never to be seen again. Panties? Oh he’ll steal them, ruin them, and then slip them back into your dresser when he’s over

He loves the idea of getting away with it, and it turns him on to know that you’re just as clueless as ever

Slips pictures of himself into your house, leaving them on the counter to make you think of him

Honestly thinks he’s so smooth (Caesar thinks he’s fucking weird)

Has no problem with smacking your ass out of the blue

Also really likes to pick you up and bury his face in your chest

Has collected various photos of you and gets off to them almost every night

Like it’s just a pic of you smiling and he’s hard as hell

While Jonathan whimpers and begs, Joseph moans and mutters

On the loudness scale he’s about 13/10

He does not give a flying FUCK about who hears him

Talks dirty while he fucks his hand, closing his eyes to picture your beautiful face between his legs, smiling up at him

Yeah he likes to take sneak peeks of you in the bath, so what?!

Does all of this with the mentality of “she’ll be mine eventually, so I’m entitled to a head start-“

JOTARO KUJO

Feels a little guilty about it at first, but never feels that way ever again once he gets ahold of a Polaroid of you in a bikini

Carries that shit around with him EVERYWHERE

He has also collected various photos of you, and has a mini photo album that’s dedicated to pictures of you smiling

Sorry but I think he’s into dacryphilia

Sure he loves to see you happy and enjoying yourself, but he just thinks you look so pretty when you cry

He fucking loves it when you come to him in tears, taking it as his chance to wrap his arm around you and bring you in closer to him

He constantly tells you that you’re annoying, but would smash you in a heartbeat

Enemies to lovers bs but he’s in love with you from the start

He prefers to steal your bras over anything else (he seriously has a thing for tits-) and DOES NOT give them back until they stop smelling like you

He also (occasionally) steals your shirts and replaces them with his own. The idea of you walking around in one of his shirts when it’s too big for you really gets him going

Loves to take you out for drinks and then escort you back home

Even better if you’re a lightweight

It gives him a reason to carry you back to your place and tuck you in bed

Once found your ‘special drawer’ while snooping around and fucking stole your vibrator

Granted, he bought you a much better one and snuck it into your drawer, but you were pissed when you noticed it’s absence

He has, and will continue to, use Star Platinum/The World to stop time and get his hands on you

Even if it’s just for a few seconds, he’ll be thinking about it all day

Oh god and Star Platinum loves you too

Grabs and holds you. 10/10 cuddler, even if Jotaro is incredibly embarrassed

You’ve always just seen it as ‘Jotaro’s lonely side’ and nothing more, so you don’t tell off Star

Star has been known to sneak away from Jotaro just to hang out with you

If you and Joot ever end up sharing a hotel room together for any reason, Star will hump you in your sleep

Now, Jotaro lets out low grunts and moans, but is typically quiet when getting off. STAR PLATINUM???? Fucking whimpers and whines like there’s no tomorrow

This man is hanging on by a thread

JOSUKE HIGASHIKATA

Man

On the guilt scale, he’s second place for sure

Feels HORRIBLE

But is also like his dad with the “yolo” mentality

Steals your shirts and shorts, sleeps in them (even if they’re too small), and refuses to give them back

Like your clothes just keep vanishing and you’re like ???

Has used Crazy Diamond to sneak into your place and has no real intentions of stopping

Has a shit ton of photos of you sleeping hidden away in his room

Really just wants to hear you call him a good boy

When he’s needy, he is NEEDY. Humps his pillow, whimpers, whines, the whole ass package

His hand just isn’t enough for him anymore

Unlike his father, he’s not brave enough to get close to you or touch you. My guy can’t even hug you without turning a bright shade of red

Oh and if you come over to play games with him, he’s a total goner

Absolute mess of a man

Can’t do shit without being embarrassed, so he’s a lot less weird than the others

But by god what he would give to hear you call him a good boy

It’s like his one dream

Rohan once used Heaven’s Door on him to get more dirt on him and has (some) no regrets. Will never let Josuke hear the end of it.

“Ohoho you like y/n? Josuke you good for nothing pervert. Give the woman a break.”

Prays that one day you’ll be in trouble and he’ll be the officer sent out to save you

GIORNO GIOVANNA

He’s one second away from going full blown yandere

You can’t change my mind

He’s got everything he needs at his fingertips, and could easily take you away without having to lift a finger

Openly flirts with you, but treats you with such respect that you can’t tell if he’s just being nice or not

Also spoils you

Buys you anything he’s ever seen you take interest in

Even if you don’t really want it, it WILL show up at your door eventually

Makes sure to sign his gifts to you so you don’t forget who it is that’s spoiling you like this

Kisses your hand and cheeks in a way that he claims is platonic

Loves it when you trust him enough that you can come to him for anything. Gossip? Do tell. Something bothering you? Just let him know and he’ll have it all sorted out in no time

I shit you not he makes you sit on his lap while you tell him about your day

You think it’s because the two of you are such good friends, but he actually just loves the sight of you pressed against him

His voice gets higher pitched when he gets off, and he begs a version of you that doesn’t exist to let him cum, pleading with you over and over

Eventually, he’ll start to feel bad about it, but he’d much rather live in the moment

[cherubimcore]

pairing: emperor caracalla x fem!reader

author's notes: i'm in love with him, your honor

part 1

the throne room of the twin emperors was a place where decisions of life and death were made with a flick of a wrist, its magnificence designed to intimidate and impress. massive marble columns stretched to a vaulted ceiling painted with constellations, while golden chandeliers cast a warm glow over the cold, intricate mosaics covering the floor. at the center of the room stood two identical thrones, one for each emperor, their backs adorned with gilded eagles clutching laurel wreaths.

it was here that you were brought, flanked by soldiers who led you through the imposing bronze doors. you entered with your head held high, your foreign features and proud demeanor immediately drawing attention from everyone. courtiers whispered among themselves, the rumors of your curse swirling in the air like smoke.

caracalla sat on the left throne, his body slouched lazily but his sharp eyes gleaming with intrigue. his tunic was dark red, a bold contrast to the opulence around him, and his fingers drummed idly on the armrest. he looked every bit like the predator you had heard about, his lips curling into a faint smirk as he watched you approach.

geta, seated to his brother’s right, was more composed. his posture was rigid, his expression unreadable, but his gaze was no less intense. dressed in white and gold, he exuded authority and calculation, his mind clearly assessing you like a piece on a chessboard.

the guard captain bowed deeply before addressing the emperors. “great caesars, this is the captive of whom the rumors speak—the woman said to be cursed by venus herself.”

caracalla leaned forward, his interest piqued. “the infamous venus’ wraith. i was expecting... more chains,” he quipped, his voice laced with amusement.

you met his gaze without flinching, your defiance palpable. “perhaps you should have brought more, if you think I need them.”

the room fell silent. gasps rippled through the courtiers, and even the guards stiffened at her insolence.

geta raised an eyebrow, his lips pressing into a thin line. “bold words for a captive,” he said, his tone icy. “do you not understand where you stand, foreigner?”

“i understand perfectly,” you replied evenly, your voice carrying through the vast room. “i stand before men who believe themselves gods but bleed like mortals.”

caracalla laughed, the sound echoing through the chamber. “i like her,” he said, casting a sidelong glance at his brother. “she speaks with the confidence of someone who doesn’t fear death.”

your jaw tightened, but you said nothing.

caracalla rose from his throne, descending the steps with a languid grace. he stopped just a few feet from you, his dark eyes gleaming with curiosity and amusement. “they say any man who dares to love you meets a tragic end,” he said, circling you, reminding you a lion sizing up its prey. “tell me, venus’ wraith, do you believe this curse is real?”

your voice was steady, though a flicker of pain crossed your features. “what i believe is irrelevant. the gods enjoy their games, whether we believe in them or not.”

caracalla’s smirk widened. “i don’t fear curses. or gods.”

“that makes one of us,” you replied with a sharp tone.

geta rose from his throne, his movements deliberate and commanding. “brother, don’t let your amusement cloud your judgment. if the stories are true, keeping her here could be dangerous—not just for us, but for rome.”

“and if the stories are false?” caracalla countered, turning to face him. “what better way to disprove them than to bring her into our court?”

the two brothers locked eyes, their rivalry simmering beneath the surface. you could practically see gears turning in emperor geta's head, after a couple second with the twins staring at each other geta sighed, waving a hand dismissively. “it... would be good for rome's fame when the word spreads and the other lands find out we have the infamous venus' wraith here... do as you will. but if this said ‘curse’ brings trouble, it will be your burden to bear since you so adamantly want to keep her."

but that wasn’t all, was it? you saw the shine on geta's eyes while thinking about his brother’s proposition, he came to a conclusion… but you were sure emperor geta would keep that to himself until time’s right, he’s that kind of ruler, no one ever knew what geta was planning to do until he already did it and by the rumors you heard before being held captive it almost always envolved someone with a knife on their backs… literally and figuratively.

caracalla turned back to you, a wolfish grin on his face. “you’ll serve me,” he declared. “you’ll dine with the court and entertain us with your wit. let’s see if this curse of yours has any bite.”

your gaze hardened, but you did not resist as the guards escorted you out of the throne room.

you whispered eerily while being taken away.

"good luck then"

caracalla watched your retreating figure, a flicker of fascination sparking in his chest, ignoring your words.

geta returned to his throne, his expression dark. “you’re playing with fire, brother,” he warned.

caracalla only chuckled, his eyes still fixed on the doors through which you had disappeared. “perhaps. but, as you are very aware brother, i’ve always liked the burn.”

you expected to be brought to a regular cell, a place fitting for a prisoner such as yourself, a dirty prison made for those who the emperors deemed less than nothing, undeserving to have at least the minimum a human should have to survive unscarred, both mentally and physically, a place with little to no sunlight, no bed, only the hard cold floor as a place to rest, and food not nearly enough for a small person to survive making them start to think that the rats running around looked appetizing.

you had accepted this was your fate when the emperors decided to keep you in the palace.

after all the deaths you caused, maybe you even deserve it.

but to your surprise you were brought to the top floor of the castle, a place truly fit for royalty and royalty alone.

the marble halls shimmer in the golden glow of torchlight, with intricate mosaics depicting the victories of rome lining the floors and walls. massive columns of polished ivory and black stone support the vaulted ceilings, painted with celestial imagery to reflect the gods’ favor. every corner of this level exudes grandeur, a constant reminder of the emperors' divine authority.

‘a bit egotistical in my opinion’ you thought ‘but beautiful nonetheless’

while being escorted to one of the three rooms on that floor you tried to think of an actual reason for them to keep there. did emperor caracalla really mean it when he alluded to wanting an opportunity to test their powers against the will of the gods? what about emperor geta with the odd glint in his eyes the more he thought about his brother’s idea to make you live in the palace, you wish you knew what both of them are thinking. were you a spectacle for the court? a new deadly weapon in their arsenal? political strategy? just plain and simple curiosity? all the above?

too many variables for you to get even close to a conclusion.

but one thing you knew for sure, they’ll regret it… just like everybody else.

when the guards opened the double doors of your newest room you were left in awe, staring at the large room with your mouth wide open and eyes shining brightly as if you were a kid looking at their newest gift at saturnalia, it was something you expected in a palace but still, you never thought that one day you would be able to see it let alone live in it.

the centerpiece of the room is a grand canopy bed, draped in layers of silken fabric dyed deep purple and gold, your hands delicately touch the frame, intricately carved with motifs of laurel wreaths and mythical creatures, you recognized the two sirens in the middle of the bed and a phoenix in between them, you turned around seeing tall, arched windows, framed by heavy velvet curtains, opening them left you with a breathtaking view of the city below and the distant hills.

it was perfect.

now that you were finally left alone your stoic facade got replaced by a huge smile, you jumped on the bed, happy to finally be able to sleep on an actual soft bed instead of the hard ones you were used to in hotels you stayed, having to change every other week when people find out you were venus’ wraith.

you didn’t want to think about your past or variables and possibilities like you always had since you discovered your curse, you also didn’t want to try and guess what the emperors were thinking, get inside their heads, you had a feeling you weren’t gonna like there.

you let yourself enjoy, at least for a little bit, the comfort of this tiny piece of your new life, after a long time just feeling ashamed for something that was out of your control, feeling those awful thoughts leave your mind you fell asleep.

after the heavy doors of the throne room groaned shut behind you, the space was left eerily silent in your absence. caracalla leaned back in his gilded throne, the lion motifs carved into the armrests glinting faintly in the dim light of the torches. his fingers tapped an idle rhythm against the polished wood as a crooked smile played on his lips.

“she is… unlike anyone we’ve met before,” he mused, his voice low and carrying a trace of amusement. “bold enough to speak plainly, yet clever enough to know her place.”

geta, seated in the larger throne beside him, steepled his fingers, his expression unreadable. the cold silver embroidery of his tunic seemed to match the detached tone of his voice. “boldness can be dangerous. it breeds unpredictability.”

caracalla turned his head slightly, his piercing gaze narrowing on his brother. “and yet, unpredictability is what makes her intriguing, isn’t it? someone who defies tradition, dares to enter our halls, and yet does not cower. i see why the city speaks of her in hushed tones. do you think she feels the thrill of having someone’s life in her hands for something as simple as falling in love?”

geta’s lips tightened into a thin line, his dark eyes fixed on the flickering flames of the brazier. “intriguing or not, thrilling or not, she is still an outsider. a foreigner. her presence here invites gossip, and gossip can lead to dissent. we already walk a thin line with the senate.”

caracalla could be many things, bloodthirsty, a monster, impulsive, the list goes on… but on the contrary of many think, he wasn’t stupid, of course because of his disease his mind gets cloudy every once in a while, but right now his mind was as clear as crystal, he knew his brother wasn’t telling the whole truth, maybe he wasn’t even telling the truth in the first place.

but it wasn’t worth it to confront him, geta would only antagonize him, making him believe it was all in his head, his mind would be foggy and confused, making him act and feel insane like everyone believes him to be.

perhaps they were right.

but right now caracalla wanted nothing fogging his mind, especially when it was full of you.

caracalla waved a dismissive hand, the ruby on his ring catching the firelight as he smirked. “let them talk. let them wonder. she is no threat to us here.” his voice dropped, taking on a darker edge. “unless, of course, you plan to fall in love with her.”

geta’s gaze snapped to his brother, his composure unwavering but his tone sharp. “i am not the reckless one here. whatever amusement you find in her will not distract me from what’s supposed to be our duty to rome.”

caracalla laughed, the sound echoing through the chamber like a predator’s growl. “oh, come now, brother. you see the potential as clearly as i do. imagine her in the court, an exotic symbol of rome’s dominion over even the most defiant.”

maybe if he pushed a little geta would open up about his plans, once in his life he would trust caracalla with something, anything, but of course that didn’t happen.

geta remained silent, keeping his thoughts behind the usual cold and calculating facade.

caracalla’s smirk faded, and for a fleeting moment, something unreadable flickered in his eyes. then he leaned back again facing away from his brother.

well, it isn’t like he’s telling the whole truth as well.

the tension between them lingered like smoke in the air, unspoken truths and unacknowledged fears weaving an invisible web.

[navree]

"How I wish you could see how much I fear him!" e-pistulae is the best newsletter i've ever subscribed to entirely because brutus is talking about an eighteen year old here, making it as funny as it is excellent foreshadowing about octavian's future

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ The Battle of Salamis ⭑ (Domina Mea, Chapter Two)

Masterlist

A/N: Acacius is STRESSIN! Protective daddy Acacius has my heart though- also I know an extra seat doesn't fit between the thrones in the movie but in this fic it does!

Pairing: Emperor Caracalla & Geta x Noble!Reader

Warnings: Inaccurate sharks, argument reader/acacius, crumbling relationships, blood/battle, mentions of whores, depraved fantasies of hot sexy gingers (+18 themes), subtle flirting and touching.

Summary: The twin emperors obsession with you grows and no one will stop them from getting what they want, not even a General.

Word count: 3.1k

Geta and Caracalla were both seated on their luxurious settee, watching as two concubines pulled their garments slowly off each other. Neither emperor could focus or enjoy much of the show however. Their minds were filled with the General's daughter, Geta could only think about how beautiful your curves looked, and your lips, oh how sweet they would taste.

Caracalla imagined your breasts and how he could nip and suck at them while you whined for more. He was hard at the thought, a daydream in his mind riling him up more than the plain looking concubines undressing in front of him. Geta felt only irritation simmer at the sight of the now naked bodies, before he met Acacius’ daughter, this would’ve got him going.

But now, all he could think about was how much prettier you were, more innocent, higher status and liked by the people. The two in front of him were just bodies and nothing more. Geta and Caracalla were so far sunken in their daydreams they didn’t hear the female concubines question. “Your majesty? What would you like us to do?” 

Geta snapped back into focus, with one glance at his twin, he could tell Caracalla had the same thing on his mind. “Get out.” The girls looked confused. “Caesar?” Caracalla’s frustration grew. “Get out now!” The whores scrambled their clothes together before hurrying out of the room. “Why are they so- plain, all of a sudden?” Geta said while rubbing his temples.

His brother agreed, then, they shared a look. “How about that other one brother, she looks the most- like her.” Geta grinned, Caracalla ordered one of the Praetorians to bring in the other whore. “We’ll share her. You her mouth, I her cunt.” Caracalla giggled at his brother's words. If they couldn’t have you, they would pretend, for now. 

Macrinus didn’t stay too long, and for some reason Lucilla refused to tell you about why he was visiting. Something you did know however was that Macrinus was not the man he made himself out to be. By the time he left, you were tired and spent the evening in your room reading some scrolls about the creation of Rome. And when you were too tired, you closed your eyes, dreaming of them. 

The next morning you were eating some bread and fruits with your father and Lucilla. He still hadn’t spoken to you much, only when necessary. Even though you somewhat understood his frustration about the emperors, you didn’t see why he made this about you. “Father?” Acacius hummed in response. “Are you going to speak to me or ignore me the whole of the games?” Lucilla looked at him with worry in her eyes. 

Did something happen you did not know of? He sighed and put down the chunk of bread he was chewing on. This time the servants were not around. “I don’t like the way the emperors involve you in their sick games.” You looked at him confused. He shared a look with Lucilla before speaking again. “I want you to be safe, the more you are around the emperors, the less safe you are.” You scoffed at him.

“Oh please father, why would they hurt me? I didn’t do anything wrong and they seem to tolerate me, so I don’t understand why you are this concerned.” Acacius seemed to want to tell you something but he stopped himself. “The emperors are- irrational, and headstrong. If they want something, they will get it.” Lucilla answered for him in a softer voice.

“So?” You shrugged. “They do in fact seem to like you, more than they should.” Your father gruffed out. “How is this a bad thing?” You almost blushed at hearing his words, in the back of your mind you knew the emperors were bad men, with horrible intentions but they looked so good while doing it.

“I realize that you don’t know much yet, about men. And the ways of...marriage.” Lucilla explained, “If they decide that one of them would marry you, then we can’t protect you, unless we hide you but that would be difficult.” Your brows furrowed. “I would like you to stay home today, is the point.” Acacius urged.

“What? No! I want to go! I want to see the battle that is supposed to take place today!” Your father was taken by surprise at your defiance, his little girl that did as he asked with no questions was clearly no longer residing in you. “No. Do not go against me. I am your father and you will do as I say.” 

“But-” Lucilla took your hand and took you to the gardens. “Please, let me come with you, I want to go.” Lucilla set you down on one of the stone benches, “Listen to me, it will be alright. I promise, I cannot say more but soon you will see.” You couldn’t believe it, usually your step-mother was a lot more lenient, so why was she so insisting now? 

You paced around angrily in the garden while your father and Lucilla left for the games. Mauling over why they were being so difficult, they obviously didn’t want you near the emperors, but what if you wanted to be? And what if they wanted you to? Surely their word goes above the generals?

Macrinus once again met Lucilla and Acacius at the colosseum, his eyes darting around, he noticed that someone was missing. “General, good day to you. Your daughter is not with you today?” Lucilla clasped her husband's hand, his irritation already clear as day. “No, she was quite tired, so we left her to rest at home.” Macrinus hummed in response. “Well, follow me then.” He said, leading Acacius and Lucilla up the stairs. 

Reaching the top, the emperors were already standing there. “Your majesties.” General Acacius bowed, Lucilla matching him. Geta and Caracalla both looked past their shoulders and Lucilla could feel Acacius tense up. “Where is she?” Caracalla asked, Dondas nibbling on his hair.

“If you are referring to my daughter, she is at home, resting. Caesar.” He tried his best to sound as respectful as possible but he was fearing the worst. “Why? She should be here. The naval battle we have for today is something she must witness.” Geta too tried to sound kind, but his disappointment was obvious. “She was quite tired from yesterday, your majesty.” Lucilla tried to cut their conversation off but she had a feeling they would not let it go.

“Nonsense, she should be here,” Geta then gestured for Macrinus to come closer, “Fetch her, she wouldn’t want to miss this.” Macrinus nodded before gesturing for some guards to follow him. “I guess we will have to wait a bit longer, General, but no matter, I am sure this mistake, will not happen again.” Geta stated. Acacius did not trust himself to speak, giving the emperor a curt nod instead. 

The orange tree smelled fresh and amazing this time of year, and so with a basket in your hand, you picked them. You needed something to do after your ‘disagreement’ with your father. You had, in this time, slightly admitted to yourself that he was right. You understood why he was so protective of you in this dangerous city, but that didn’t change the little crush you had on the emperors. 

How could you not? Not only were they handsome but they dressed well and smelled surprisingly nice with all the essential oils they probably used in their baths. But the power and might they showed, now that was attractive. You wanted to know them better, wanted to know what they were like when left alone. Would they still be as vicious and ruthless- or softer and kind?

Being unmarried also meant that you didn’t really know what that entailed, but you wanted to. In the later years while you were blossoming, your father had received some critique for not having married you off yet. However you knew why, he wasn’t around much but that didn’t mean he didn’t love you. He wanted you safe and at the one place where he could always protect you. 

An orange fell out of your hand as you tried to pick two, when you picked it up, you heard raised voices from the courtyard of the estate, which was only one wall away. Your heart rate picked up when the door leading to the garden you were standing in, opened. Four Praetorians came into view, as well as Macrinus. “My Lady, I did not mean to frighten you, the emperors have simply requested your presence at the games. Would you come with us?” 

“Of course, let me bring this to one of our servants and I will gladly join you.” You said while referring to the orange filled basket. He nodded and let you walk past him so you could have the oranges sent to the kitchen. You did not expect for the emperors to send guards to get you but that made your improper crush grow. Maybe you wanted them to like you, would that really be so wrong?

When you arrived at the colosseum, there was no crowd. Following Macrinus once more, you soon reached the last step and were met with the emperors. Geta stepped forward, took your hand and kissed the back of it. “My lady, welcome, how good of you to make it.” You blushed at his words, and curtseyed. Caracalla was the one who led you to your seat, which was still placed between the emperor's thrones. Avoiding your father’s stare- you followed Caracalla.

Once you were seated, the speaker was given the signal to begin. “In the name of Poseidon! We celebrate the glory of naval war! Today we relive the battle of Salamis! The Trojans versus the Persians!” You watched as a large ship entered the now water submerged arena, sharks could be seen swimming around and you did not want to imagine what would happen if one of the gladiators fell in the water. 

Then another gate opened and a second ship emerged, this ship looked like it belonged to the Trojans while the first one belonged to the Persians. You could hear Caracalla’s feet tap excitedly beside you, while Geta shifted in his seat. The ships had only just started to sail towards each other when flaming arrows were released by the Trojans. Two of the arrows hit the Persians’ ships sail, which quickly caught fire, sending huge clouds of black smoke in the air.

Many Persians already collapsed when hit by arrows, making it seem like the Trojans could easily defeat them. You could see how men fell overboard in the water, seconds later the water would turn red with their blood, attracting the sharks. When the Persian ship seemed to head straight into the Trojan ship, it turned, causing the Trojan ship to lose its entire left side of oars. 

You shifted in your seat as the ships seemed to slowly come closer, Geta grinned widely at you however and you courteously returned a smile. “This is war! Real war!” Caracalla yelled excitedly next to you. Your excitement started to fade however, the sail on fire, the Trojans actively losing and the ships slowly coming closer while you were front row made you incredibly nervous.

You decided to stay calm, surely if something happened the Praetorians would step in? But when the Persian ship had turned to fully face the Trojan ship, you couldn’t help but feel panic start to take over. They increased their speed and head-on rammed the Trojan ship, causing it to almost fully split in half. Because of the impact, both ships headed straight to the emperor's box. 

Your hands clasped tightly at your toga when the Persians jumped on the Trojan ship, right in front of you. Now your terror was too much to bear- you had to say something. “Your majesty, I don’t think this is safe-” Before you could say anything else an arrow shot what seemed like millimetres past you- right into the side of your seat. Then your eyes met with the man who shot it- Hanno. Hands grabbed your waist, lifting you out of your seat, you could hear Geta scream for Praetorians, your eyes met your fathers as he pulled you away from the box, Lucilla and the two emperor's right behind you. 

When you were safely out of reach from the gladiators, you still felt like you couldn’t breathe or move. “Are you alright?” Your father crouched before you, taking your hands in his. You could only nod. “Who shot the arrow! Who?!” Caracalla screamed. “H-hanno- I believe it was Hanno Caesar.” You said. “It was him, I saw it too.” Your father said. “He got shoved, he could have never meant to shoot you dear.” Lucilla then said. 

How was it not meant for you? The man looked straight at you before he shot, had he not been pushed- you would be dead. “Maybe- I really do not know.” Geta did not seem pleased with your answer. “I will think about what to do with him, he can not get away with this.” He seethed. It was then you noticed Lucilla’s pleading eyes towards your father. 

At this point you had realized something was going on that you did not know about, but if you actually wanted to know what that was- was a whole other question. The emperors must have felt some sort of sympathy as they invited you, your father and Lucilla to wine and food at the palace, which your father reluctantly agreed to. A carriage took the emperors to the palace, while your father, you and Lucilla took your own, following behind them.

Palatine Hill must have been one of the most beautiful buildings in Rome, it screamed power and wealth. The whole time you were led inside, you couldn’t help but stop in your tracks to look around from time to time. When you had reached one of the larger entertainment halls, you felt somewhat safe again while sitting next to your father. As time passed, wine flowed and some musicians were summoned to entertain the emperors.

You listened to the beautiful music, occasionally glancing at the emperors on their settee not far away from you. Lucilla was speaking lowly to your father when emperor Geta spoke up. “My Lady, join my side, I would like to speak with you.” That certainly caught your fathers attention, you stood from the settee you had shared with your parents and walked over to the already grinning emperors. Geta patted the spot beside him, so you were between them once again- right where they wanted you.

As you sat down, Geta already leaned a bit towards you while Caracalla shamelessly stared at your covered breasts. You could tell Lucilla tried to distract your father with conversation again but if it was much help, you did not know. “I hope you are not too distraught over what occurred earlier today.” Geta whispered in your ear, his voice so close and low it made an unfamiliar heat pool in your belly. 

“No your majesty, your invitation to spend time with you here certainly helped, as did the wine.” Caracalla giggled beside you and Geta smiled. It made your heart beat faster- pleasing them. Caracalla then called Dondas over, or rather the slave that held him, and took Dondas in his lap. Geta noticed how your smile grew bigger at the sight of the cute monkey, Caracalla noticed too. “Would you like to hold him? I know he is already fond of you.” He mused.

“Please, I would love to Caesar.” He liked hearing you say please more than he should and  only nudged Dondas a tiny bit towards you before the monkey jumped into your lap. His tiny hands clasping your toga. You couldn’t help the soft laugh escaping you, to which Caracalla saw an opportunity. “Here, you know what he likes? To sit on your shoulder.” The emperor said before letting his hands roam over your upper arm, then innocently placing the monkey on your shoulder, letting his hand slide back down your arm again.

Your breath hitched in your throat at the feeling of him touching you, the smallest skin to skin contact made goosebumps ripple over the area he grazed. Dondas sat cluelessly on your shoulder, inspecting your hair. Caracalla got exactly the reaction he wanted, looking at Geta with a mischievous smile which Geta returned. Their obsession only grew as they now got the confirmation they needed- you were entirely oblivious to their ambitions. 

You played with Dondas for a while, Geta even handing you some fruit to feed to him, making sure to let his hands linger on yours. On the other settee it was less cheerful, Acacius felt powerless as he watched how his daughter swooned over the emperors he hated so much. This is exactly what he wanted to prevent, he knew he couldn’t do anything if his daughter married one of them, then it would be too late. You would be in too much danger. All attempts Lucilla made to ease his tension were unsuccessful, at some point she had him calmer, and made him focus on a conversation with her. 

Everytime one of the emperors ‘innocently’ touched you, it sent sparks through your body, never had you felt this way around men. But they opened a whole new world for you, and you wanted to explore every single inch of it. When you handed Dondas back to Caracalla, Acacius saw a window, an opportunity to leave. “My emperors, we really should be heading back home-”

“Why? Can’t you see we are having a nice conversation General?” The music abruptly stopped at Emperor Geta’s words. You looked at your father with pleading eyes, ‘please don’t upset them’. “My apologies, it is just that Lucilla is feeling a bit dizzy from the wine.” Lucilla looked down at her husband's words- knowing it was a lie. The evening grew darker but you had no intention of leaving as long as the emperors still wanted you here.

“Ah, I understand.” Geta said, his mood change was almost horrifying but at least he seemed composed again. Caracalla grumbled something beside you, but you couldn’t quite make it out. “Praetorians, take them back to their estate.” Geta commanded, while standing up. You stood up as well, your father and Lucilla already heading towards the door. But Caracalla stopped you before you could walk away. 

“We had so much fun this evening, didn’t we?” You smiled at his words. “Yes your majesty, at least I did, very much.” The truth was, you hadn’t had so much fun and excitement in ages. “Good, good.” Geta interjected. “You must return then, so we can continue our- enjoyment.” Red dusted your cheeks and you nodded. “It would be an honor as well as a delight to spend time with both of you again Caesars.” You bowed your head. The evening was over way too soon.

[tiktaalic]

catching fire dash simulator

finnicksgirl Follow

my streams have been cutting all season omfg what is going on

caps4finnick Follow

cinnagirl3000 Follow

anybody heard from cinna lately?

plutarcheology Follow

Plutarch Heavensbee circa 2282

revolutionarykatniss

As if it’s not ENOUGH that yall wanna fuck the most morally bankrupt man alive who is more than complicit because he gets paid to live in luxury to ORCHESTRATE the deaths of innocents so that they’re a spectacle and don’t have the option to die even semi peacefully. as if that’s not enough. You wanna fuck him when he’s ugly?

caesarflickerwoman Follow

anyone else still thinking about how caesar and peeta were kinda ..

czrflckmn

Aren’t you the one who had the week long meltdown about peeta being overfamiliar with him

caesarflickerwoman

Well you see I’m gay and a man now

theeclove Follow

already tired of this fucking season of everlark -_- idgaf about the fucking fog

siblingvictors

DISTRICT ONE GONNA SEND THEM A CANCELLATION NOTICE!! #CASHMEREGLOSS4EVER

czrflkmn Follow

everyone looooooves to act like NOTABLE cishet peeta is so gay w caesar as if his gay cohost isn't right there.... slaying in a wig..... sending yearning glances caesar's way right before the camera cuts......

johannadykeson Follow

tbh she’s got the WORST taste in allies idek why i continue to stan. girl MAGS?

#my girl going to get slorn :/

katnissgirlsmakedo

She is choosing with her HEART she chose to save peeta in the games REMEMBERRRRRRRR she’s literally a lovergirl to the core

#lovecore #heartcore #truelove

lucygraydotcom Follow

Caesar flickerman kidn if a laughing gnome. Reblog

finnickforever Follow

I’ve supported finnick through a lot and defended them and I’ve always been proud they're from my district but honestly they went way too far by doing the salute during the interview. I can only hope that they just got caught up in the moment with everyone else doing it and obviously it’s a stressful situation but I don’t think I can continue endorsing them. I’ll be changing my url this week.

divorceekatniss Follow

hey guys i know times are tough for everyone and the capital has really cracked down but my mutual @divorceepeeta got flogged the other day and could really use some help. v3nmo here. anything helps #signalboost #mockingjay

disabledmags Follow

Tbh the baby is the saddest thing I've ever heard </3

peetaspride

Another citizen falling for capital propaganda. It's so glaringly apparent that this is made up to draw in views. The tributes undergo extensive medical examination prior to the games. They would NEVER let a pregnant woman compete.

disabledmags

As if killing children has ever stopped them before?

#We all saw him fall to protect her stomach before they even started the victory tour #Is it that ridiculous to believe two newlyweds fresh out of a life or death situation would celebrate a little carelessly?

peetaspride

If you think even the marriage is real you're stupider than I thought. Peeta spends every interview begging us to see his truth. The capital is shamelessly silencing him and "the baby" is a distraction.

peetasbabymama Follow

URL CHANGE!! faggotpeeta->peetasbabymama

cupcakeeverlark

this isnt funny. peeta's a real person with real feelings. it will never be funny to call someone a f***** as a joke. how would you feel if my url was f*****peetasbabymama?

peetasbabymama

ok

district420

isnt cupcakeeverlark literally prez snow's 12 yr old granddaughter lol

tendinghiswounds

OOMF IS 12???????????

everlarklovechild

the age is the problem here?

marriedeverlark Follow

Canon url 🎉🎊💅😁🥰♥️

beeteemp3 Follow

New content of my favorite tribute 😁😁😁

3ffietrinket

Girl there’s a 96% chance they die ?

peenick Follow

getting reports from the presidential banquet that Peeta looks gay as fuck

3v3rlark Follow

ik peeniss has been flagging w the rehearsed speeches but did anyone else see the way they looked at each other in the censored district 11 speech

rues-song

you’re STUPID she’s a capital pawn AND i fucked your mom while you were busy looking for illegal streams

senecacraneofficial Follow

rip seneca you were so babygirl </3

plutarchbaby69

so now you think we can’t fuck old men?

#this fandom is so ageist #this is prob what I get for blogging about thg tbh since # it’s literally about kids. Some of you ppl need to grow up