#but in general it was quite good and I'm happy I watched | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

softfem-dom · 5 months ago

Text

wedding ring

origins!husban!logan x origins!wade x wife!reader

a/n : I don't know what came over me to write this, I have no excuse I'm just horny.

wc : 3k

NSFW , PORN WITH (LITTLE) PLOT , WADE IS A HORNY SHIT , MOMMY & DADDY KINK , GENERAL WADE™ BEHAVIOUR sub!origins!wade wilson . dom!origins!logan . dom!reader

synopsis : wade has always been a kinky little shit, it seems that title is well-deserved when he starts to fantasize about squeezing himself into a married couple old enough to be his parents.

If someone in the team were to ask Wade why he looked as if he hadn't slept in a decade, he'd say he was up practising his katana skills.

When in reality, he had spent the whole night groaning and moaning against his pillow while rubbing himself raw to the thought of you and Logan.

What was so special about you two, you may ask? You were married and were old enough to be his parents.

It was absolutely not his fault. You two had no right to come into the X-Team, looking so fucking hot and expect him not to get hard.

You couldn't just walk around the place with Logan's strong arm around your waist and expect him not to stare. You couldn't just hum in acknolovedgment everytime Logan leant into your ear to rumble something that the merc couldn't quite catch and expect him not to grow desperate.

He was a walking mess. Day and night his thoughts were consumed by you and Logan, Logan and you, and what you could do to him. He couldn't help it, he'd blame the undiagnosed ADHD anyday for titty-flashing him with so many dirty scenarios anytime you walked past.

Logan and you had been through a lot of shit togheter.

You had met sometime between the 1880's and the 1900's, both mutants and escaping from someone who was trying to do you harm. Both with the weight of taken lives over your shoulders, both with spilled blood on your hands. Both with the promise of living far too long.

And, cliche-y enough, you both had fallen in love. After uniting forces as acquintances, then growing as close as long-life friends, and then falling into the claws of love, you two had gotten married.

Happyly married, always attached to the hip, gold wedding wands on your ring fingers. Always watching out for the other.

And when William Stryker offered you both a place in a 'special opperations' team called X-Team, you both agreed —happy to help a cause—.

What you didn't expect, though, was Wade Wilson turning into another shit you had to go through togheter.

The mercenary seemed to never know when to shut his mouth, or how to read social cues, he just simply had a mouth too big for his own good. Hence why the nickname merc with a mouth was born amidst the members of the team.

He was a young man in his 20's, a cocky asshole and a total flirt that talked big game. He liked to show off during missions, pulling stunts, to impress Logan or you was another question that didn't have an answer yet.

You and your husband just knew the kid seemed to have the hots for one of you. Which made Logan boil with possesiveness because you were his damn wife, his and his only —possesiveness that in turn only made Wade all the more horny.

It wasn't until today's mission that you realized that the mercenary didn't have the hots for just one of you, but for both.

After trying to break in a building to stop some drug dealers, the team had split up and —ironically enough— left you three to flee from more guards than you could fight. And now, ironically enough again, you three were hidding in a really small supply closet.

You hadn't intended for it to end up this way, but your husband was with his broad back against the wall and with a pupil-blown Wade completely sandwiched between you two.

Wade was totally trying to keep his cool, desperately keeping up his usual cocky fachade, but his gut felt so damn coiled at having his ass pressed against Logan's crotch and his chest in level with yours.

"How did they notice us?!?" you asked your husband in a low breath, completely ignoring the merc between you.

Logan growled slightly, his nose twitching when a strangely strong scent wafted into his nostrils, shaking his head slightly as he tried to peek out from the small gap in the door. "dunno, doll, but I guess they didn't see us come here"

As you kept talking with your husband in hushed breaths, Wade was starting to feel his brain turning to damn mush as he was trapped between you two. He couldn't help it, your body warmth was sweeping into his bones from back and front —melting him—.

And then, suddenly he heard your voices stopping. Looking up with his half-glassy eyes, he was met by a quirked eyebrow and a deep scowl from Logan.

"are you damn horny right now, mouth?" Logan pretty much growled. His voice rumbling in his chest as he looked down at the young man between you two.

Wade blinked, realizing he had been so aroused —and locked up in his dirty fantasies— that he had pretty much started to leak in his pants.

"ohw, c'mon, what'd you expect?" the merc breathed out under your questioning gaze. "I've got my hot ass against someone's big dick and my face is smushed against this massive titties and jesus fucking christ—"

His words died down in a choked way when Logan's hand flied up to his throath, wrapping around it without issue —damn big hands the Canadian had— and squeezing. Choking a wheezed noise out of his mouth.

"shut your damn mouth if ya wanna keep your throath, bub" Logan growled in the merc's ear, his voice almost like the roar of a lion with how much red he was seeing.

You were just staring at the way Wade's eyes seemed to roll into the back of his head, thighs twitching before shamelessly parting —as if he wanted someone's hand between them—. The mercenary seemed to really be horny for you two.

"really, Wade?" you purred, voice low, as you stared at the young man —letting your husband do the job of shutting him up. "going after a married couple like this? didn't think you'd fall that low.."

Wade struggled to breathe through his nose with Logan's tight grip around his throath, but he spoke nonetheless. "aughn— you two are fucking god- relax the grip old man literally bisexual culture-"

His gasped words only made the growl bubbling up in Logan's throath grow louder. You saw the veins in your husband's arm bulging as he squeezed around Wade's throath again, watching the way the merc choked on his spit —saliva slobbering down the corner of his lips.

You reached out your own hand and placed it atop of Logan's, as if methaporically holding your husband's hand while he choked Wade.

"fucking god you two are really feeding my mommy and daddy issues right now y'kno-oh-oww—"

Wade's spech got cut off my another series of squeezes around his throath, making the mercenary cough and choke on his spit as his head fell forwards against your chest.

"watch your damn mouth, mouth"

"ngh-ah- unluckily for you I've got a thing for being put in my place by dominant, sexy, grown-ups. Big ones with huge—"

His voice died in his own throath when two, huge and thick, fingers were proding at his mouth. Sneaking past his lips and stuffing him full, his eyes rolled back, knees almost buckling underneath him when the meaty taste of sweat invaded his mouth.

"shut it, bub"

"hmn-nhgh"

"you managed to shut him up" you low whistled at your husband, impressed by how quickly and efficiently the merc had shut up. Now busy with nibbling at the fingers inside of his mouth.

"easy peasy" Logan huffed with a slight roll of his eyes. "don't know how long it'll last, though, just look at how damn much the kid's leaking"

Wade whined around Logan's fingers at the way you two were speaking as if he wasn't there, thighs trying to close when he felt your eyes going down and settling on the obvious tent in his pants —and the wet spot.

"so horny" you hummed, more to yourself than anything, before looking back at his face. "what does this mean, baby?" you purred as you pointed to the gold ring on your finger with a neutral look on your face —as if he wasn't coming undone before your eyes. "I don't think you're that dumb yet. C'mon, what does this, right here, mean, Wade?"

Wade struggled to swallow the spit pooling in his mouth around Logan's fingers, body almost tumbling forward when the Canadian ripped his fingers off of his mouth so suddenly.

"I- aughn- I—" he stumbled over his words, swallowing again, as his hazy eyes looked up at you. "that's a daddy and mommy ring" he wheezed out, a little "ah-ah!" escaping his lips when Logan grabbed his hair from the back —forcing him to behave—. "means- angh means that you're married. And old enough to be my grand-parents-"

"That's right, bub" Logan growled, leaning in close to whisper in Wade's ear. "We're a married couple and you're nothing but a pest."

"now, now, darling" you hummed lovingly as you looked at your husband, who was still grabbing Wade by his hair. "don't be so mean.. It turns him on"

That last was a low drawl, before your hand was cuping Wade's cheek and making sure the cold metal of the gold wedding ring you wore was against the merc's skin. "We've lived through wars, honey, you're a literal baby compared to us" you added, voice low and degradatory.

Wade shuddered as the cold metal of your wedding ring pressed against his skin, his eyes looking up at you with a mixture of desire and submission.

"I'm a- nnnng baby" he repeated, almost breathless. "Logan and you are old. So old."

Logan leaned in closer, his hand still clamped around Wade's hair. "Old enough to be your parents" he repeated, his voice dark and gravely. His teeth almost gracing Wade's ear. "Old enough that you shouldn't be interested in us, bub."

"Please, I- I- ahhhhnn I promise I'm good, I promise I'm good, I- I can be good."

It was funny, really, to see such a cocky and show-off of a man being this needy and whiny between you two. But what could you say, it was the Howlett effect.

You slowly slipped your gold wedding band out of your ring finger, right infront of Wade's eyes —watching the way he almost busted on the spot just from the sight alone—.

"this is what'chu want, ain't it honey?" you teased the mercenary trembling and whining between you. "you want this pretty ring on your finger too, don't ya? you wanna be the throphy toy to a hot, married couple old enough to be your parents, don't you, sweetheart?"

You held the wedding ring infront of Wade's face as one of your hands started to rub his arm —slowly going down to his hand—. Wade was shaking, he didn't even know how he hadn't cum untouched yet with how tight and hot his gut felt. All of his muscles coiled.

Wade looked like he was about two seconds away from spontaneously combusting right there in the small supply closet.

"Please" he breathed out, his voice strained and his eyes fixed on the ring in your hand. "Please, I- I want to be- nngah, I want it. I- I'll be good, I- aaahhhnn"

"Are you?" Logan asked, using the grip on Wade's hip to pull him closer against him. "Are you going to behave for us?"

After a series of jerky and rapid nods coming from the drooling mercenary trembling between you, "good fucking boy, there you go" your voice was low and syrupy, as you grabbed Wade's twitching hand and slowly —almost sensually— slipped the cold golden wand on his finger.

It looked as if he was going to combust just from having the ring on his finger, from the implications of having a wedding ring from a married couple on his finger.

Maybe you'd find an explanation for the creamy wet spot between Wade's legs and the way he was wearing your wedding ring when you meet the team in a few minutes. Or maybe you won't, who knows.

921 notes · View notes

apricot-blossomss · 3 months ago

Note

Is it okay if I ask what type of s/o would the Gods be into? I find that really interesting and would like to hear your opinion since I really love your writing <3<3

This request came just right, bc I really want to write but I'm mad busy rn, and this was a lot of fun! so I kinda wrote for ... everyone.

If you're conventionally attractive, you are in Zeus' dating pool. You're exceptionally beautiful? I'm so sorry. Once he has set his eyes on you, you are not safe anywhere. There is no other factor that matters, except maybe if you're exceptionally hospitable and kind to guests, which might attract his attention. Which is not a good thing.

Poseidon would love someone unpredictable, someone who never gets boring and never fails to surprise him or catch him off guard. He'd love the excitement of it all and is generally pulled to exciting and outgoing people, but also people who are more introverted but break out of their shell at unexpected times.

If Hades had a type, it would for sure be someone a little more ... alive than him. He's clearly going for that opposites attract thing, just look at Persephone. Also, I reckon he'd like someone who can stand up for themselves, as standing up to his brothers was always very hard for him and he would admire you greatly for it.

Demeter would like someone who is humble, orderly and respectful and appreciative of the beauties of nature. Someone who finds joy in the little things and never fails to call their grandma for her birthday.

To be honest- you don't have a romantic chance with neither Hera nor Athena, Artemis or Hestia. Though I thought it would be fun to make some platonic headcanons for what kind of mortal they would take interest in in a platonic way.

Hera admires loyalty, it doesn't even have to be to a spouse, it can also be your family or friends. Also, she appreciates people who remain strong even in the face of long term hardships or anguish, and it might earn you her favor. It's not that she pities you, but that she admires your strength to keep fighting. Also, she'd love to talk shit about men with you as much as the next goddess...

Artemis isn't about the whole opposites attract thing. As with Orion, she is likely to make friends with someone who shares her interests, as she also surrounds herself with her huntresses. She loves to talk about hunting and the wild and would like someone who isn't afraid to get themselves dirty. If you're a guy, it's pretty hard to get in her good grades though.

Athena is all in for academic weapons. Critical thinkers, challenging the status quo and earning great archivements. Someone she could have an intellectual conversation with, who offers new points of argument and is able to hold their own in an argument, she is the goddess of warfare after all...

I don't think there is anyone Hestia doesn't like, though she would favor people who spend a lot of time with their family and are kind and hospitable to others. Kindness to strangers is something she very much appreciates.

Apollo doesn't really have a type. His mortal lovers are symbolic for his creative inspirations, so he would not settle for a type but be all over the board. The variety of his lovers concludes that Apollo isn't looking for a specific kind of person. He simply watches or spends time with someone and BAM he's completely and utterly in love. He does love himself an artsy spouse though.

Ares needs someone calm and peaceful- it might seem a little contradictory, but Ares needs someone to ground him, to listen to him and provide the calm for his storm. Actually, he's all for domesticity, though a hot love affair doesn't turn him away either. If his spouse had a strong personality and could stand up for themselves, he would really respect that, but he would also be your guard dog if that wasn't the case. Ares just needs someone to love him unconditionally, quite like the next god on the list.

Not to be disrespectful but Hephaestus does not care who you are, he's just happy with someone who treats him with dignity. Be kind to him and he is putty in your hands. After all his family put him through, he'd also appreciate someone to rant about them to, who can also sit in silent understanding with him at other times. But honestly, he isn't setting the bar very high.

Not to call her vain, but you would have to be insanely beautiful to be on Aphrodites radar. She simply considers herself too good to spend her time on anyone who isn't pleasing to her eye- and that really cuts down the pool of potential lovers. Also, she would only stay around for someone who is ready to give their full attention to her at all times, she is a very demanding lover.

I think Hermes would want someone who is able to keep up with him, but also root him when he overdoes it a little. It would take quite a lot for him to actually stick around, because for him to make time in his busy schedule, he'd have to be head over heels in love.

Dionysus would probably not have a specific type either, simply because he wouldn't want to cut short his dating pool. Though he would like someone who is able to let loose at least sometimes and surrender to his pull of madness and ecstasy.

Extra: Eros would mostly go for someone attractive, but he wouldn't let that be the only factor. Just as the unpredictable and surprising nature of his arrows, Eros could fall for anybody, picking out a trait he loves about them and obsessing over it for the day (I'm thinking 'Someone New' by Hozier if you know what I mean).

729 notes · View notes

androgynealienfemme · 2 years ago

Text

"We go from store to store, trying to things on and inspecting them. I give my opinions on dresses and shoes, blouses and lipstick colors. Sometimes I say things that make the other women look at me, agape, as though my mouth has been possessed by that flighty queen from Queer Eye even while the rest of my body still looks like any other big dumb boy's. I say that I like a skirt but I wish it were bias-cut instead of A-line, or that I am not fond of the fashion for surplice tops, or that the post-WWII idiom in shoes this season is amusing but rarely looks good on actual feet, or that I like the look of a bolero jacket. I know the names of colors, heliotrope and coral and Nile blue, and I can say without hesitation whether a lipstick might look better matte with a bit of powder.

These other women look at me with wonder, their boyfriends and husbands having made a fetish out of refusing to learn such words under any circumstances, as though merely pronouncing the word "periwinkle" or "princess seam" could easily turn a strong man gay as a box of birds. They say to her, "That's your husband?" in voices that loiter between admiring and disgusted, as though they know that there's no force on earth that could make their men or boys take such interest in their clothing and they think they might really prefer that to the spectacle of me, filling an armchair, legs crossed ankle over knee, looking just right until I say "tea length."

The point is that she wants other girls to see what it looks like to have a boy so cracy in love with you, as I am, that he will spend an afternoon talking about capri pants to have a boy so delighted by you that he never calls you by your name, but addresses you always as "beautiful girl," or "my love" or occasionally and with great fondness, "boss." To have a boy who will happily fetch your next-size-down and carry your bags and charm the salesclerks at the register without flirting overmuch and just generally try to make himself as useful as possible, all for the dizzy and undying pleasure of making you happy. And even though I am not a boy, I look like one, and so I can be complicit with her in this kind of wonderful afternoon, part indulgence of her great beauty and style, part guerilla feminist activism.

Later, when we walk through the mall or down the sidewalk, me laden with packages that are clearly hers, I watch the eyes of the people we pass: the women who look at me with a certain longing, wishing they had their own boys to carry the bags. The men who look at her with an unmistakable hunger, wishing that they had the honor of schlepping for a girl like her, and then look at me with a certain edge of disbelief, not quite clear about why I get to squire this marvelous example of femininity around when they are clearly wealthier, more handsome, better hung. I have learned to meet all of these gazes with a calm kind of sweetness. There's no point in defensiveness or sheepishness or challenge. I'm the one holding her bags."

"Being a Shopping Switch” Butch is a Noun essays by S. Bear Bergman (2006)

#butch is a noun #s. bear bergman #lesbian lit #butch lit #lesbian #lesbianism #butch lesbian #butch 4 femme #butch4femme #butch for femme #femme #butch #femme lesbian #feminism

8K notes · View notes

drarrily-we-row-along · 2 months ago

Text

Winter Flu

"Absolutely not, Potter," Draco said, trying to close his door in Harry's face.

Harry laughed, "Stop being ridiculous," he said, pushing at the door to Draco's room.

"I'm not," he said, "while I appreciate that it is our tradition to grade papers together on Friday night before we watch a movie, I cannot take that chance today."

"Draco-"

"No," he said again. "Matilda Bagweather has that horrible winter flu and you didn't have the good sense to send her out of your classroom. You've exposed yourself to it and I'm not interested in getting sick."

The door closed firmly in his face and Harry sighed, letting his forehead drop against the door. This couldn't be happening to him. Not today. Not when he'd planned to-

"Draco," he called, knocking on the door again.

"Go away, Potter!"

"I brought a Christmas movie," he cajoled. "You're really going to like this one." He was certain about White Christmas, Draco was a sucker for cheesy love stories.

The door opened a crack and Harry wiggled the DVD so he could see it. "Are you feeling any symptoms? Any scratchiness of throat, tickling in the ears, are your eyes watering?"

He rolled his eyes, "I feel fine. I feel great, actually. I just wanted to watch this movie with you."

Draco debated for a moment, Harry could see it playing out on his face, then after what felt like an eternity, the door fell open. "Fine. But you're sitting at the other end of the sofa."

-----

An hour into the movie and Draco's head was where it always ended up, in Harry's lap. And Harry certainly wasn't complaining. He combed his fingers through Draco's hair, scratching lightly at Draco's scalp with his nails, like he knew Draco enjoyed from a great deal of trial and error.

He'd slipped right into Harry's lap as he argued with the movie:

"Why is she upset?" "Why wouldn't she just talk to him!" "For Cirice's sake, getting engaged isn't going to help!" "Do you see now what could have been avoided if you'd just talked to him, you silly woman?"

But none of the ranting stopped Draco from tearing up when the General stepped into the room and everyone started applauding.

He sat up and reached for a tissue on the table, sniffling and hair askew from Harry's fingers, and Harry loved him and loved him and loved him. Godric it wasn't healthy to love someone this much. To want nothing more than to look at them and make them happy.

"I don't know why they always have to be so emotional," Draco said, turning to look at Harry. "What?" he asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'd just really like to kiss you," he said because he'd decided that tonight was the night. No more waiting, no more holding his feelings in. It wasn't quite how he'd planned it but it would do.

"What?"

Harry shrugged unrepentantly, "I would like to kiss you," he repeated.

"Well then why haven't you?" Draco asked, sounding affronted now.

He laughed, "Well I thought I'd get your approval first."

"You have it," Draco said, "so what are you waiting for? Do I have to do everything my-"

Harry leaned in and kissed him, soft and sweet, making the butterflies in his belly take flight all around his body.

"Oh," Draco breathed when Harry drew back. "I think you should do that again."

He grinned and cupped the back of Draco's head as he leaned in to kiss him once more. When he moved away he murmured, "You're missing the ending."

Draco blinked at him and Harry nodded to the screen as the barn doors opened and the snow appeared like a backdrop. Draco leaned back against Harry and Harry wrapped an arm around him, drawing him even closer.

When the movie finished, Harry squeezed him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before he shifted and stood up.

"Where do you think you're going?"

He grinned and leaned down to press a soft, short kiss to Draco's lips once more. "My own room."

Draco raised an imperious eyebrow but Harry spoke up first.

"I want to do this right," he said softly. "I want to woo you, I want you to feel pursued. I want this to be something that lasts."

Draco blinked up at him, that guarded part of him falling away, leaving him looking young and unbearably sweet.

"You're too important to me to rush this. So," he said with a fortifying nod, "I'm going to give you one more kiss, and then I'm going to leave." He nudged Draco's foot with his own, "but before I do, I wanted to ask, would you come with me to Hogsmeade tomorrow?"

"Like a date?"

"Yes, Professor Malfoy, exactly like a date."

He smiled and stood up, wrapping his arms around Harry's neck, "Yes," he murmured, leaning in to steal a quick kiss. "I'd love to."

----------

By the time the two of them did get the Winter Flu six weeks later, they were both all too happy to spend the time cocooned in a room, watching movies together while they recovered.

#fluffcember 2024 #fluffcember day 2 #I've no idea how many of these I'll write over the next few days #drarry #love #soft #fluffy #Christmas Movies #professor draco #professor harry #hogwarts teachers

379 notes · View notes

birdyisthewordyy · 3 months ago

Note

HELLOOO this is my first request.. 😔

Like can you make a thing where the reader (please make it a fem reader for this one) is mascular fem reader and how the mouthwash crew will be react or be with the reader😻

if you can do this pleasee do it!! This has been just on my mind..

(I'm sorry if I couldn't describe it pretty well but I hope you understand it👅🙏)

a/n: I went ahead and combined two asks because they were pretty similar I HOPE THATS OKAY!! ANYWAY I love these askS MUSCULAR WOMEN FTW

Tulpar crew with a muscular! Fem! Reader

Curly

He can still lift you up easy peasy

Loves doing weightlifting with you

Brags on you

“My girlfriend can bench press 400!”

When you get sore he runs a hot bath for you

With rose petals and Epsom salts

Watches movies with you and gives you massages

Anything for his girl

You two have a friendly competition to see how much you can lift

The gym hates to see y’all coming

Or loves to

You kind of brighten up the atmosphere with your mushy couple junk

Y’all are matched in arm wrestling

You try every day

Never works

You just stay there with your arms shaking

Lol

He’s ecstatic to have another workout buddy though

Especially one that doesn’t take it as seriously as Jimmy

Jimmy

Speak of the devil himself

He’s jealous

Right off the bat he’s jealous of you

Because he could never achieve that physique

His metabolism is too fast

And it pisses him off

He eventually comes around

Makes underhanded comments sometimes though

Meanie

He might weightlift with you

You’re a good spotter he has to admit

Encouraging and all that

Despite how jacked you are you are pretty feminine

Which he enjoys

He likes that you dress up and do makeup and all that

And if you’re not he appreciates how…

Eugh

“Drama free” you are

One of those guys

Yikes

You love him though

Swansea

Swansea didn’t grow up in a generation where women could just pick up a weight and start growing muscle

Despite this he thinks it’s badass

He’d never say that but he does

Appreciates your commitment

Maybe even attracted to it idk

An excellent cook so he makes things for you if you’re hungry after lifting

Makes banger soups

He’s pretty strong himself

But doesn’t work out too often

Just enough and if he feels like it

He’s got a bad back so nothing crazy

Take this man to a chiropractor

If you use protein powder he doesn’t understand it

“Back in my day we had to work for what we got!”

You try to explain it’s not like steroids

But he is NOT having it

Sometimes you go overboard though

And he does worry for you

“Just…be careful, alright? Don’t want you exhausting yourself on me.”

Daisuke

Daisuke is also just a little bit jealous

He gets over it though

He buys you one of those giant water bottles that have words of encouragement on the sides

Says it’s like he’s there with you

You love this boy

Would be like

“Oh yeah? Can YOUR partner do 50 pushups? (Name), show em!”

Makes you personalized playlists

Eye of the Tiger is definitely on there

Along with Wheels on the Bus

He giggles when he hears it coming from your headphones

You just look at him like WTF

Would be your spotter

Very encouraging

“You can do it! Two more!”

Fists in the air

Tries to fist bump you

You are exhausted I fear

Would sit on your back while you do push-ups

To prove a point

What point? Idk

Anya

Anya has tried working out in the past and never really got into a routine

She’s a little bit out of shape so she’s at least happy that you know what you’re doing

Buys you sweatbands with pretty little designs on them

Also makes you protein shakes in the morning

Without you asking

May try to work out with you

Gets extremely sore though

Anya with a ponytail is cute tho

She can’t do push-ups

Like physically she just collapses

It’s not even that she’s weak

She’s actually quite strong physically

And mentally too but that’s not the point

She almost beat you once in arm wrestling

She just gets tired easily

Little chubby

Totally not projecting again

Hee hee

369 notes · View notes

ozzgin · 1 year ago

Note

Hii I was wondering if u could do a yandere Kazuya x yn x yandere Daitou I’m not sure if u do character x yn x character tho

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader Spinoff

Two yakuza men who have fallen in love with their new foreign tenant. A what-if spinoff to the original story for that love triangle spice. Happy Valentine's Day!

Content: female reader, NSFW, organized crime, obsessive behavior, violence, BDSM themes (choking), threats

Credits: My boyfriend for giving me the Daitou smut idea

[Main Story] | [General Headcanons]

Kazuya is sitting on the sidewalk, checking his watch occasionally and tapping his foot. The cigarette seems to have been forgotten, hanging lowly from his lips.

"Sorry I'm late." Daitou speedily makes his way towards his friend, smiling awkwardly.

"Where the fuck were you, man? We don't know how much time we have before the cops arrive."

"Uh uh, leave it to me." The cheeky grin doesn't leave his face as he pulls out his gun and carefully but swiftly inspects the barrel and safety one final time. "(Y/N) needed some help with the mailbox. I couldn't just say no, ya know?"

The blonde man's eyebrows raise for a second, but he quickly recollects himself.

"I see. That's good."

"She asked me to show her the area tomorrow, so I'll be working extra hard tonight. Hehe."

"That's good."

Daitou glances at Kazuya, somewhat wary.

"You okay?"

Stupid question. What's he supposed to answer? Yeah, he loves waiting like a dumbass while his friend flirts with the new tenant, who conveniently happens to be a cute foreigner, who's been unexpectedly nice and relaxed around them despite them explicitly stating they're part of the Japanese mafia. Fucking hell. It doesn't help that this idiot is as obvious as a blaring, blinding cluster of ads smack in the middle of Kabukicho. He can tell from miles away that Daitou's completely fallen for her. Just like that, in an instant.

They've been partners and best friends for years now, so the natural reaction would be happiness, right? Daitou has always been one scary motherfucker. Even the seniors scramble when he's in the room, let alone women. For him to find someone that isn't bothered the slightest by his appearance or background should be a celebratory occasion. Kazuya should be rooting for him. Except, well, he fell for you just as hard. Tough luck.

The Bushido moral code, often used as guidance within their own lifestyle, covers matters such as loyalty and honesty quite extensively. A true warrior remains fiercely faithful to his master or companions. And yet, love interests are more of a grey area, especially if they happen to overlap. Who dictates the proper etiquette for this dilemma? To whom is loyalty directed towards? Truth be told, Kazuya couldn’t care less. He’s always been a man of vice, impulsive and greedy. If he wants something, he takes it.

The trouble starts when the other person is of the same mindset. Two ferocious predators eyeing the same victim.

***

You fiddle next to the tall, dark-haired man. Similarly, Daitou is avoiding eye contact, looking around in hopes of finding something to focus on. It’s the first time he’s come over since the incident. After his little mission with Kazuya, he was tasked to “interrogate” some of the remaining members to get even more names for the hitlist. He’d completely forgotten about his promise to show you the neighborhood. Hands sticky with blood, he was in the middle of his signature act of benevolence, putting the lad out of his misery.

It was around that time you decided to be the one picking him up instead, for your grand tour. Your knocks on the door remained unheard, however, so you decided to politely make your way in.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not-”

You froze in place. A man (you assumed at least based on the few visible traits left), tied up on the chair, canvas bag roped around his head. Daitou’s hands were secured around his throat. In the few seconds of silence, you could hear a muffled wheezing, as the stranger’s chest heaved in short convulsions.

“-intruding.” You mumbled, regaining your speech.

He messed up, didn’t he? Daitou sighs and slicks his hair back. He can’t blame you if you’re now terrified of him. He had to come over for some tenant checkups and you’ve been maintaining a safe distance from him during his entire visit. What can he possibly tell you? “Hey, I know I threatened to chop you up and you’ve now witnessed firsthand I’m a legit murderer, but, uh…I have a crush on you? Dinner at seven?”

You’re terrified alright, but not of his deeds. Rather, your newly discovered perversion as a consequence of the gory scene. It’s not that you relished in the torment of another. It’s the other details that left you reminiscing. Daitou’s imposing frame, the unbuttoned shirt revealing his traditional tattoos glistening in beads of sweat, his flexed, brawny arms, and large hands. You’re scared of your shamelessness. It can’t be normal. Yet you can’t stop thinking about it. Just a glimpse into this memory and your cheeks become burning red.

“I’ll be on my way then”, the yakuza announces politely.

Though he immediately stops in his tracks, and you realize you’ve unconsciously grabbed onto his sleeve. Uh oh. What now? You mumble an apology without releasing your hold. Being this close to him makes your heart drum inside your chest.

To hell with it.

“I might say something terribly inappropriate right now, but…”

“Sorry?” He stares at you, dumbfounded.

“Do you have anything planned after this?” You ask quietly.

“N-no?”

“Would you mind staying over?”

“Huh? Sure…w-what for?” His mouth is dry, and he searches your eyes in confusion.

“You know…” Choke me until I pass out and such, you think to yourself sarcastically.

He turns to face you, lips pursed awkwardly.

“You’ll have to be clear with me, Miss (Y/N). I’m not good with all this tiptoeing around and I might get the wrong idea.”

Your ears perk up hearing his final words, a deep blush now spreading over your flustered features.

“What wrong idea?”

Daitou fidgets with his glass prosthetic nervously.

“Well, uh, a man can only dream, ya know? Especially around a cute girl like you.” He reveals with a stutter.

“Suppose I’d be willing to go along with anything on your mind. What then?” You twirl your hair, gazing shyly at the floor. Not even you can believe the audacity leaving your lips.

The tall man steps before you, towering above with a certain gleam in his eye. It’s yearning. Your knees weaken.

“Don’t tease me, please. I can hardly control myself around you as it is.”

You release his sleeve and instead cling onto his shirt with both hands, looking up through your lashes.

“I’m dead serious.”

He ponders his next move with a click of the tongue, then cups your cheeks between his hands and lowers himself until his hot breath tickles your nose.

“Are you? There’s no going back after this. Can you handle it?” His voice is suddenly deeper, raspier.

Before you can respond, you feel yourself lifted and you yelp, surprised, instinctively wrapping your limbs around the yakuza. In between the greedy kisses that leave your lips bruised and swollen, you don’t notice the movement back towards the seating area.

As you pull away to gasp for air, he throws you onto the couch, flipping you over in the process so that you’re kneeling away from him. Your nails dig into the soft fabric of the sofa. You hear Daitou unbuckle his belt and you squeeze your legs together, heavily aroused. He presses his palm gently into your back, arching it. You sense his fingers grazing over your core and you whimper.

“G-go on, please.” You beg, swaying your hips tentatively. “I really can’t wait anymore.”

“As you wish, Miss.” He reassures you with a grin.

He adjusts himself and carefully makes his way in. You don’t have time to enjoy the feeling; following almost instantly is his belt looped around your neck, tightening under his grip as he pulls the ends towards him. Your head is forced back, and you groan. You can hear the leather stretch and creak over your assaulted skin, the constriction briefly cutting your oxygen intake. Hot drool trickles down your chin and your eyes almost roll back in pleasure.

“Look at my little Miss (Y/N), taking it like a champion.” He bends over and bites your earlobe playfully. “Does that mean I can be as rough as I want?”

You nod erratically.

The grip around your throat intensifies and your vision becomes blurry.

“Hey, don’t pass out now.” He inserts two fingers in your mouth, pulling you by the cheek and tilting your head to look him in the eye. “Not before you show me that you understand your situation. You’re mine. Is that clear?”

He drags his fingers downwards, aiding your response as you struggle to contract your muscles.

“Attagirl.” He concludes, satisfied.

In the morning you wake up with a dreadful soreness, and you can quickly see why. Your body is peppered in bruises. Daitou is smoking by the window and promptly flicks his cigarette out once he realizes you’re no longer asleep.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” He begins, remorseful, and squats in front of the bed. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“I will need a day or two to recover before the next time, but otherwise I’m fine.”

He beams with delight upon registering your words: next time. You can’t help but snicker at his childish enthusiasm. It’s a mystery how Daitou can switch between ruthless killer and cute partner with such ease.

Although it’s no secret, really. It’s you.

***

“Thanks for driving me home, Kazuya.”

You smile and unbuckle your seatbelt, reaching for the door handle. Daitou has been busy with work for the past days, so Kazuya took his place in looking after your needs.

“Huh?” You rattle the grab handle one more time to make sure. “It’s still locked.”

The blonde raps the wheel impatiently with his fingers. Is he to silently accept his loss? Does it even count as a loss when he hasn’t even had the chance to present his piece? Daitou has been quiet about it, but he can read that bastard like an open book. Something definitely happened between the two of you and the mere thought drives him insane.

Ah, this is so unlike him. There are few things he cares about. His pride, his Family’s honor, his freedom. Women aren’t exactly on that list, yet somehow, you’ve snuck your way to the very top of priorities and he’s realizing it just now. It’s becoming harder to ignore his maddening urge to have you. Out of all the things…He’d give Daitou the world. But not you. He can’t. He can’t.

“Kazuya? Are you listening? You forgot to unlock the door.”

“Say, (Y/N) …ever fucked in a car before?”

“What?” You ask, baffled.

“Come here for a moment.” He swiftly slides his seat all the way back and pats his thigh.

“Are you out of your mind?”

He answers your inquiry by pulling out his handgun and lazily pointing it towards you.

“I’m only going to ask once.”

You clumsily climb over the center console, straddling the yakuza with a slight pout.

“Someone’s in a sour mood, that’s for sure”, you complain. “It’s not even loaded.”

“Even I’m not crazy enough to risk shooting my Princess.” He smiles apologetically, throwing the gun on the backseat. “I thought it’d be more threatening that way.”

He removes a strand of hair from your face, gazing at you intently. His hand lingers for a second, before sliding its way down, tracing the side of your body. You shiver.

“Can you truly blame me when there’s such a pretty girl right before my eyes?” The blonde exhales and focuses on your shirt instead. “Won’t you let me prove myself?”

From this distance, despite the dim lights, you can discern his features in agonizing detail. His long lashes, his fleshy lips, currently parted, the luscious locks of hair casually thrown back. Kazuya has always been effortlessly handsome. It’s not just his good looks, but his overflowing charisma. He always knows exactly what to say and do. A devilish power to have over people, and you’re presently his victim.

His slender fingers play with your first button and cheekily undo it. You can only observe it, entranced. Your legs are weak, and your arms are stuck in place, resting limply over his broad shoulders.

“May I?” He glances up at you with a pleading expression. “I won’t be able to hold back afterwards.”

You bite your lower lip, distracted. Whether or not this is a wise choice, you can’t currently tell. You squirm in his lap and suddenly feel the pressure coming from below.

“Go ahead.” You finally confess.

He doesn’t hesitate and slithers his hand underneath your shirt, popping the rest of the buttons open. Like a hungry animal that has stumbled upon a feast, he sinks his teeth into your neck, leaving mean, wet kisses on his way down.

One hand is greedily kneading your curves, encouraged by your soft whimpers, while the other strokes your thigh in anticipation. With a bit of readjustment, he finds the right spot between your trembling legs. You jolt at the sensation of his cold fingers.

“My, you’re already dripping. How lewd.” He whispers between breaths. “Do you want it now?”

He nonchalantly slips out and undoes his own pants. You lift yourself expectantly and let a moan escape your lips upon feeling the erection throbbing right below.

“Well then, can’t forget our manners, can we?” He announces, visibly excited. “What should I do?”

You glare at him, feverish.

“Stop teasing me.”

“Come on, be a good girl. Tell me what to do and I will do it, Love.”

Why, this…You lower yourself to his ear and answer in a lulled whine.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you to fuck me.”

Words enough to send the blonde man over the edge. He abruptly clutches your thighs for support, easing himself in before continuing with increasingly aggressive thrusts. Husky whimpers roll out of his mouth, desperate and starved.

“Oh, I’ve waited so long for this. My darling, perfect little (Y/N).” He presses his forehead into your chest, indulging in the moment. “Now say that you’re mine. Please. Please say it.”

“I’m…ah…I’m all yours, Kazuya.” You manage to blurt out, growing dizzy.

“That’s my girl. Such a good girl.”

Once the deed is finished, you flop your head over his chest, trying to catch your breath. Kazuya smoothens your clothes meticulously, holding you with one arm for support. Can’t leave a lady all disheveled, after all.

“Won’t Daitou be upset?” You point out, somewhat anxiously.

His muscles are tense for a second and he furrows his brows.

“That’s one strange way to thank me for making you come at least twice. Mentioning another man’s name.”

“I’m just…” your words trail off.

“What? Worried? You think I can’t handle it or something?”

Far from the truth. Both Kazuya and Daitou are violent, dangerous men. Given their stubbornness, you’re rather certain they’d end up killing each other. Not your favorite outcome.

“I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”

He sighs loudly.

“I’ll tell you what. Under normal circumstances, I’d probably dismember whoever had the guts to even entertain the idea of meddling with you. But…just because it’s Daitou, I might be willing to share. Nothing more than that.”

Kazuya ruffles your hair and chuckles.

“Aren’t you glad I’m such a diplomat, Love?”

“More like batshit crazy, both of you.” You retort, stretching.

2K notes · View notes

beansprean · 15 days ago

Text

happy valentimes day :')

My Familiar’s Ghost part 91

Masterpost Masterpost 2

See the latest pages on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. High shot of the cage, the back wall casting a long grid shadow across the floor. Guillermo is still sitting on the cot, watching as Nandor mumbles to himself and paces around, agitated. 1b. Waist up of Nandor, facing away from Guillermo with his hands on his hips, eyes closed and face flushed. He psyches himself up, breathing deeply and whispering 'Okay, okay, okay,' to himself. Behind him on the cot, Guillermo is leaning his face on his hand, looking a little bored. 1c. Close up on Nandor as he whips around suddenly with a determined expression, snapping, 'Guillermo!' Offscreen, Guillermo startles, 'Ah! Yes?' 1d. Full body of Nandor standing in front of Guillermo, who is still sitting on the cot and leaning forward in interest. Nandor has one fist pressed to his heart and announces, as if previously rehearsed, 'It was very brave of you to express your feelings of love toward me, even though you had every reason to believe you would disappear and those feelings would not be reciprocated.' 1e. Knees up of Guillermo on the cot, looking at the floor while his hand taps nervously at his knee. He mumbles, 'Not brave enough to let you say anything back...' 1f. Repeat. Guillermo looks up as Nandor takes his tapping hand in his and raises it to guide him. Nandor replies, 'Then allow me to do so now.'

2a. Shoulders up of them both in profile as Nandor leads Guillermo to standing. The cage walls are visible behind them, as well as a ghostly blue version in the background behind the panels. Nandor raises his chin and holds Guillermo's hand up between them, his other gesturing vaguely as he says, 'I am much braver than you generally, so it is only right that I express those words as well. To you.' Guillermo smiles at him encouragingly. 2b. Nandor places his free hand on top of their joined ones and stares resolutely at the ceiling, cheeks flushed. He continues, 'I think you are kind and clever and have an ass that simply will not quit. So. I have many feelings. About you. One in particular.' Guillermo snorts softly, amused but fond. 2c. Repeat. Nandor falls silent, wide eyes meeting Guillermo's nervously as the other waits patiently. 2d. Repeat. Guillermo leans forward with a teasing grin and asks, '...Was that it?' Nandor cringes, face scrunching up in frustration as he snaps back, 'No! Augh!'

3a. Shoulders up of Nandor as he covers his eyes and turns his back on Guillermo, embarrassed. He admits, 'I do not have good experience saying these things.' Behind him, Guillermo shrugs with a sad smile and looks toward the ground, playing with his fingers. He replies, 'I know, it's okay. You don't have to-' Nandor interrupts him, 'No, you deserve to hear it.' 3b. Chest up of Nandor from Guillermo's POV as he turns back around and hesitantly removes his hands from his face, bashful. The ghostly blue image of the cage behind him begins to warp as a golden glow fades in. Nandor looks shyly up at Guillermo from beneath his lashes and says 'It made me very, very happy when you said it to me. Though it was not a very happy moment in general. And I...' 3c. Reverse shot, chest up of Guillermo. Nandor continues from offscreen, '...I want to make you happy. Even more than myself, sometimes.' Guillermo reacts strongly to this, rearing back in surprise. Tears spring suddenly to his eyes. Behind him, the golden glow strengthens and bursts, tearing the ghostly cage to shreds. 3d. Shoulders up of them both in profile, the background now cage-free in mottled copper and gold. Guillermo, smiling, removes his glasses to wipe his sleeve over his eyes. Nandor steps forward and calls his name in concern, one hand hovering uncertainly. 3e. Repeat. Guillermo composes himself and slides his glasses back on, saying, ''Go on, I'm listening.' Nandor smiles fondly at this, shoulders relaxing, and reaches up a hand toward Guillermo's downturned face. 3f. Shoulders up of Guillermo looking upward in surprise as Nandor's hand comes into frame to brush the backs of his fingers against his cheek. The colors are slowly warming. 3g. Repeat. Warmer. Nandor turns his hand to cup his palm against Guillermo's face and Guillermo leans into the contact like a cat, closing his eyes and nuzzling into it with a smile, his opposite hand coming up to clutch at Nandor's sleeve. Offscreen, Nandor murmurs, 'My...most precious Guillermo...' 3h. Repeat. Warmer still. Nandor has both hands on Guillermo's cheeks now, framing his face as Guillermo nestles in with a contented smile, eyes closed, hands gripping Nandor's forearms.

4. Wide shot, waist up, of them both in profile, a warm golden glow erupting behind them and washing away the dingy rusted blue of the dungeon beyond. They are lined with golden-pink light soft, warm colors. Nandor, hands still on Guillermo's cheeks, leans forward and bows his head to press their foreheads lovingly together. Their eyes are closed, cheeks flushed, reverence in their expressions. Nandor says, 'I dream of eternity with no one else. I love you. I am in love with you.' /end ID

#wwdits #my familiars ghost #nandermo #mlm #valentines day #valentines day 2025 #guillermo de la cruz #nandor the relentless #vampire guillermo #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #fan comic #image described

300 notes · View notes

periwinkla · 8 months ago

Text

Final NRMT poster with all panels! Print here <3 Did anyone notice... anything about the bottom right panel? It's not too obvious but I wanted it to at least be noticeable within the poster itself that something is... 'off' if you compared it with the other panels. And there's a reason. Honestly it's just about a silly headcanon of mine, and it is also a silly way for me to include it but... I'm silly myself. Under the cut, the hanakotoba notes for the flower panel... and other stuff. The other stuff isn't important really but it was funny for me.

Already talked about this in the flower panel post - but these are the main things I took into consideration when choosing the flowers:

3 sunflowers specifically mean 'I love you' - so I also added 3 chrysanthemums to complement them. By the by, among other things, sunflowers mean 'passion', 'love', 'adoration', 'I only have eyes for you' - while white chrysanthemums mean 'truth'. Red chrysanthemums signify 'love' but I opted against them in favor of the following flowers.

The small blue flowers are forget-me-nots, which, other than the obvious, mean 'true love' in hanakotoba.

The pink flowers are Japanese primroses ('sakurasou' - they get their name because of their resemblance to cherry blossoms), which mean 'first love', 'longing', 'purity', 'youthful love', 'the beginning of youth and sadness'...

Also, here the nmweek24 tag on the blog to see the posts for the individual panels with additional info/behind the scenes: https://periwinkla.tumblr.com/tagged/nmweek24 note: there are a few minor adjustments I made for the final poster compared to the individual panels (you probably won't even be able to see them honestly) ---Sentimental story time--- The reason I wanted to do something special for nrmt week was because tomorrow (the 8th) will mark the day I first started playing AA1. And I'm so happy I got into it! Funny story: my first exposure to AA was the anime (almost 10 years ago!) I got to the end of the first 12ish episodes, obviously was very confused because it's not meant to be consumed by someone who didn't play the games, and promptly abandoned ship and forgot all about it. Completely. I even forgot I had watched it! until I got to Turnabout Goodbyes because I had a vague recollection of having seen the boat photo. But other than that, complete oblivion (my memory is quite terrible in general). Basically, last year I had finished Detective Pikachu 1 and wanted something similar because I usually play classic jrpgs and needed a change of pace... AA1 was my choice. As I mentioned, I remembered absolutely nothing from the anime (I had no idea Mia died, so, imagine the shock). I went completely blind till I finished with AJ and AAI1-2. Honestly, it's a beautiful experience when you play games without knowing anything about them. It feels like the good old days. I absolutely don't believe that study that says spoilers don't spoil the experience. Also I find it nice that I got into nrmt without outside prompt, because I find it funny that my brain needed to play through 6 games in order to see it. I seem to have prosciutto on my eyes (Italian idiom). In my defense I usually don't look for romance in stories and ship stuff unless it's very obvious. Nrmt comes too close to it to ignore. Ok, end of nostalgic sentimentality. ...And here's the 'other stuff': This print was the thing I said I had hidden 'in plain sight'. It has been on the print shop since... Thursday. 'It was there all along'-well more like half-along really <3

#I kinda really really want to talk about the letter hc I have but I want to see if anyone can figure it out from that panel first...#also the date is in european order bc that makes sense to me #but if some m/d/y - accustomed people really want I could make an alternate version for the print shop... just beep an anon ask or smth #narumitsu #ace attorney #wrightworth #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #periwinkla #periwinkla shop

512 notes · View notes

mistiell · 8 months ago

Text

We Keep this Love in a Photograph

summary: since Joel gifted you a polaroid camera for your birthday, you've developed a habit of sneaking pictures of him whenever possible. He doesn't think he's worth the film "wasted" (His words, not yours), but after catching you looking over your accumulated gallery, you manage to win him over.

wc: 1.1k

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, Joel's a little self conscious, Reader's gender isn't specified, and they have hair but the length isn't specified either. If I accidentally did use a gendered term, lmk and I shall fix it. <3 NOT PROOFREAD (will likely come back to fix any mistakes later)

a/n: HOLY SHIT I'M BACK!!! This fic was inspired by this TikTok. I saw it and the Joel obsession possessed me so viscerally I had to make a comeback lmao.

**NOTE: I've linked ways to help Palestine here. If you're in a position to donate anything at all, please do! If not, you can reblog the post that's linked so it gets out to more people.

---

It started on your birthday.

You’d shared with Joel one evening, wrapped warm and snug in his arms within your soft haven of sheets, during one of those late night conversations where vulnerability doesn’t seem like a thing so daunting, that you used to love photography. Loved immortalizing things you loved or things you found beautiful. He’d asked what kind of camera you’d had, what kind of things you usually took pictures of.

“Polaroid.” you’d told him softly, fighting you keep your eyes open with his tracing shapes into the curve of your waist. “And I already told you. Whatever I found beautiful.”

The morning of your birthday, you woke to the smell of coffee and a clumsily wrapped box sitting on your bedside table with a note taped to the top; Happy birthday, honey. Love, Joel. And in smaller print near the bottom left corner; P.S. Wait until I’m here to open it. Wanna see your face.

You’d smiled, bashful, brushed your teeth in record time, scooped up the box, and made your way downstairs towards the sound sizzling and the tapping of a spatula on a pan. He gave you a good morning kiss, pretended to make a fuss about waiting until after breakfast to open it and watched with a smile as you carefully tore it open, popped off the lid, and visibly softened at first sight of the contents.

It was a polaroid camera. Coincidentally, the very same one you’d had twenty years ago.

You’d cried, he’d panicked. You hugged him so fiercely, any worry that he’d fucked the whole thing vanished as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you close.

That was months ago, and in the time since, you’ve accumulated quite the gallery. You take pictures of just about anything and everything, but your main muse is Joel.

Which is what’s led you to have half a shoe box full of polaroid of mostly him. He’s no idea of your little stash, and you intend to keep it that way. You’ve come to learn he’s got a thing about being photographed. Always nitpicking his appearance no matter what you say. He asks sometimes when he catches you why you don’t choose something nicer to look at, and your answer is generally always the same. There is nothing nicer. He walks into a room, and all you want to look at is him. Yeah, he’s got some more lines, got some more meat on his bones, his hair is a little more grey than it is brown these days. But he doesn’t see it the way you do.

He’s got crows feet and smile lines etched almost as deep as the crease between his brows. He looks healthy now that he’s actually got food to eat, meals you’re both sure to share every morning in your kitchen and every evening in the dining hall. His greys are a tangible reminder that he’s alive, that he’s survived, and that he now gets to live, and you’re incomprehensibly grateful for every russet strand turned silver. He’s all the more beautiful for all of it. And here, tucked into your armchair, polaroid pinched between thumb and forefinger, you get to commit every little detail picked up by your camera to memory.

Your gaze follows the sloping curve of his lovely nose, profile softened by the sun shining white behind. It’s only one half of his face, but the beaming smile he’s sporting makes you feel whole. His hair was just starting to get longer, then, curling near his nape and flicking round his ears to kiss his jaw.

“What’s all this?” You startle, head leaning into the plush back of the chair to look at him upside down as you press the pictures into your diaphragm. He seems curious, if a little confused.

Caught, you swallow, “If I said nothing, would you believe me?”

“Not for a second.” He smiles teasingly, bending to give you a quick peck, bottom lip warm where it slots between yours. Your hold on the photos loosens, and when his gaze dips to them, the smile shifts into something closer to a frown, a little cagey, “S’ that me?”

“Yeah.” You answer simply, before joking tentatively, “Swear I’m not a creep. You’re just pretty.”

“See now, that’s exactly what a creep would say.” He teases, and you’re glad for it – that he’s not upset. Rounding the chair, he sits on the arm, elbow propped up on the soft back of it and knuckles warm on the nape of your neck.

“Pretty.” He echoes, blowing a short puff of air out his nose, “Never been called that before.”

“Well, you are.”

He smiles again, bashful and a little disbelieving. There’s a short moment where he just looks at you like that, backs of his fingers sliding down your spine a few notches then back up in a tender line before he juts his chin toward your collection. “Show me?”

Warmth blooms in your stomach and fizzes up behind your sternum. You grin, handing him the one you were holding before sifting through the shoe box for your best works. He accepts your compliments and sweet talking reluctantly, but hangs onto your every word as you describe where you were, what you were doing, what made you sneak the picture in the first place.

You start to worry his limited responses mean he’s gotten caught up in his head until his hand slides up the side of your neck and settles over the side of your head, the warmth of his calloused palm encompassing the entirety of your ear as he guides your temple to his lips.

“Love you.” He murmurs into your hair, and the warmth sizzles like its carbonated, bubbling and burbling within the cage of your ribs.

You turn your face, slip your fingers beneath the curtain of hair at his nape and lift your chin to kiss him soft and slow. He rubs an affectionate line into the soft skin behind your hear as he hums, vibrations thrumming against your lips.

You lean back just enough to murmur, “I love you to.”

He smiles, kisses you again. And again. And once more. He asks you to show him more of your pictures, and you oblige. It’s early evening when you’re finally through, at which point Ellie’s come home and Joel’s started on dinner. You let her sift through the polaroids while you move to join Joel at the counter.

You won’t realize until later that she’s snuck a photo of the two of you by the stove, Joel’s large palm on the small of your back where you’ve taken over stirring a pot, gazing at you like you’re the only thing he’d like to listen to for the rest of his days as you talk and talk and talk.

That one, he hangs on the fridge.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #soft joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller

587 notes · View notes

arc-misadventures · 2 months ago

Note

Friends AU:

It's been 6 months since jaune join the ace ops and ironwood has been giving jaune more responsibility after seeing the work his done and even gaining the trust of the poeple

His even been opening up to winter and she's happy to see jaune smile

Wait, What Happened?

Jaune's finger ran across his breastplate, he remember distinctly where precisely, Tryian had stabbed him with his stinger, and yet he couldn't find so much as a scratch on his armour from his stinger.

: Looking for something, Jaune?

Jaune looked over to see, Winter walking across the locker room towards him.

Jaune: Hello, Winter. I'm just checking my armour.

Winter walked over, and stood next to, Jaune running her hand along his chest piece feeling the smooth mental under her gloved fingers.

Jaune: I'm impressed; Atlas's armour's are quite skilled. If it wasn't for the fact that it was me who got stabbed, I dare say I was never stabbed in the first place.

Jaune finished speaking as he put on his armour, and fastened its straps. After, Jaune checked the snugness of his armour, he grabbed a small black box, and pulled out a silver falcon badge, and placed it on his left coat collar. Winter watched as, Jaune put the badge on, eyeing it with extreme suspicion.

Winter: What... What is that?

Jaune: Hmm, oh this?

Jaune turned to look at, Winter as he pointed to the silver falcon badge.

Winter: Yes, that...!

Jaune: Yeah, I got this from, Robyn Hill.

Winter: Robyn Hill gave you that...?

Jaune: Yeah.

Winter: And, why did she give you this... thing...?

Jaune: Uhh...? It's a token of affection...

Winter: A token of what now...?

Jaune: I-It was a thank you! I saved her from, Tyrian, she gave me this as a gift!

Winter: Then why are you calling it a, 'token of affection...?!"

Jaune: W-W-Well, I'm a knight... a k-knight in shining white armour, and I saved the maiden from a monster... S-so she gave me this badge as a 'token of affection!'

Winter: So, you two were just playing on your knightly stereotype...?

Winter was walking ever closer to, Jaune leading to be place his back against the locker as her ice cold gaze stared him down.

Jaune: Y-Yes...?

Winter gave him a look before grabbing his sash, and tightening it, Before using it to pull him closer to her.

Winter: Then this is my token of affection. That I gave to my knight. Remember that!

Jaune: O-O-Okay!

Winter: Good... I'll see you in the meeting room, Jaune.

Jaune: O-Okay...

Winter then let go of, Jaune and started walking away, a noticeable sway in her hips as she left. Jaune slowly slide down the locker doors until his butt slumped on the ground as he exhaled a deep breath as he calmed his nerves.

Jaune: Bloody hell...

: Well, that was something?

Jaune: What?

: Who knew that, Winter could be so jealous. But, for you, Jaune, I can understand why~!

Jaune: Ohhh... shut it, Pyrrha...

Pyrrha: Ah-hahaha~!

~~~

Ironwood: Ahh, Specialist Arc. Glad you could make it.

Jaune: Sorry, I'm late, Sir.

Ironwood: It's alright, Mr. Arc. It makes sense that you are a little groggy since it hasn't even been a day since you were in the hospital.

Yang: Wait, Jaune was in the hospital?

Ruby: What was he in for?

Ironwood: Honestly, Mr. Arc, I'm tempted to order you to some, R and R. The last reports I read did said that you're still fighting off the last of the poison in your body.

Nora: Jaune was poisoned?!

Blake: How did that happen?!

Jaune: Only if you do the same, Sir.

Ironwood: That's not happening.

A small chortle of laughter echoed through the meeting hall, but it stopped as, General Ironwood started the briefing.

Ironwood: Now then, two days ago we were alerted to the fact that, Tyrian Callows was in, Mantle...

The presentation started, showing a photo of, Tyrian's insane expression,

Qrow: Ugh, not that deranged fucker...

Ren: This isn't going to be good.

Ironwood: Luckily, thanks to, Specialist Arc's recent actions, we will not need to worry about him causing any chaos.

The next photo of the presentation displayed a photo showing another picture of, Tyrian his mouth, and eyes closed, and a purple ring ran along his neck as it was bent at an odd angle.

Qrow: He's dead?!

Ruby: Jaune killed him?!

Weiss: The hell...?!

Ironwood: And, because of, Specialist Arc actions we've were able to acquire several useful items of information's...

The presentation changed to show a photo, and a diagnostic of, Tyrian's prosthetic tail.

Nora: He got a new tail?

Ruby: Well yeah, he had too after I cut it off.

Nora: Oh yeah, I forgot about that.

Weiss: You did what?!

Ironwood: Thanks to the efforts of the, Atlas Corp of Engineers as well as help from, Dr. Polendina we were able to find a... stylistic signature.

Nora: What's that?

Penny: A set of distinctive stylistic choices, be they patterns, methods, or overall designs that renders someone work identifiable from a glance.

Nora: Wha?

Ironwood: This 'signature' was identified to be from someone we thought dead. This man here...

The slide turned to show a photo of a lanky, scarecrow of a man in a white lab coat.

Ironwood: This man is, Arthur Watts, we assumed he died ten years ago in a lab explosion. Since we never found the body, we can now assume that he faked his death. Now, Arthur Watts is highly skilled with cybernetics, and biomechanics. He is not a skilled fighter, but he makes up with his skills in computers. So, while you are out in the field, keep an eye out for, Watts. Watts, and anyone else you may see with him. Any questions?

Several hands among the, Specialist rose up, Ironwood nodded his head in silent pride of his, Specialist incitive to ask questions about their missions.

Ironwood: Clover?

Clover: Since we've identified this man, and we know his specialties, what countermeasures are we implementing to counter him?

Ironwood: We've been beefing up the cybersecurity, and fire walls around, Atlas to prevent him from exploiting our systems.

Jaune: Are you also upgrading the cybersecurity for, Mantle, Sir?

Ironwood: Yes, after the implantations of the fortifications are done, we need to beef up the severally unreliable security systems in, Mantle.

Jaune: Good. May, I ask another question, Sir?

Ironwood: Of course.

Jaune: During the, Fall, the, Atlas's Knights turned on us. Do you think that this, Arthur Watts fellow had anything to do with that?

Ironwood: Hmmm... That is a good question... It is likely theory that it was him who hacked our, Knights during the, Fall. I best order that the, Knight be given an upgrade as well. Excellent observation, Specialist Arc.

Jaune: Thank you, Sir.

Harriet: Wait, if this man hacked, and hijacked our, Knights... Then what's the chance of him doing the same to, Penny? I mean... she may look human, but she is an android.

Silence enveloped the room as everyone turned to look at, Penny as she nervous looked about. Ruby took her hand as she tried to reassure her friend at the sudden realization that she could be hack, and turned to attack her friends.

Ironwood: Hmm... Penny?

Penny: Y-Y-Yes, Sir?

Ironwood: Call your father, I wish to have a meeting with him at his lab, and I will require your presence as well for this meeting. We have... much to discuss about.

Penny: Yes, Sir...

Ironwood: Now, then... Specialist Arc?

Jaune: Yes, Sir?

Ironwood: Based on the fact, Tyrian tried to attack, Robyn Hill, it is evident she has become a target. I want you to go down to, Mantle, and inform her of the situation. Since you saved her from, Tyrian she will no doubt trust you.

Yang: Wait, Jaune saved, Robyn Hill?

Nora: When did that happen?!

Penny: The same day he killed, Tyrian Tallows.

Weiss: When did that happen?

Penny: Three days ago.

RWBYNR: What?!

Nora: Did you know this, Penny?

Penny: Yes, I was there when we extracted, Tyrian's dead body.

Ruby: Why didn't you tell us any of this?!

Penny: ...

Penny: Error...

RWBYNR: WHAT?!

The Specialists, as well as, General Ironwood all stared at the members of, Team RWBY as well as, Penny, Nora, and Ren. waiting for them to stop their impromptu conversation.

Ruby: Eh-hehe... Sorry...

The group finished staring at them before returning to face, General Ironwood, and his presentation.

Jaune: Understood. How much information am I allowed to share with her, Sir?

Ironwood: Only what she needs to know, Specialist.

Jaune: Understood.

Ironwood: Now then, go down to, Mantle, and inform her of what is happening.

Jaune: Yes, Sir! Permission to leave, Sir?

Ironwood: Permission granted.

Jaune got up, and grabbed, Crocea Mors, attaching it to his waist as he made to leave, but was stopped as, Winter made an impromptu request.

Winter: Sir! Permission to accompany, Specialist Arc.

Ironwood: Denied.

Winter: May I ask why, Sir?

Ironwood: You are needed here for information about, Tyrian's prosthetic tail.

Winter: But, shouldn't, Specialist Arc be accompanied by his fellow, Specialist's? After all, it hasn't been a day yet since he was discharged from the hospital.

Ironwood: No, Specialist Arc, has proved himself more than capable of handling himself with, Tyrian; He should be fine.

Winter: But, shouldn't he have someone with him when it comes to dealing with that bitch...?! I mean, Robyn Hill?

Vine: Did she just call, Robyn Hill a, 'bitch?'

Elm: I-Is she jealous...?

Harriet: Wait, does that mean, Winter likes...?!

Clover: Oh, he's totally going to have to explain that to me later.

Marrow: Wait... what's going on?

Ironwood: No, your reputation as my second, and as, Jacques Schnee's daughter will no doubt sour her willingness to discuss anything with you present.

Winter: Shit!

Ironwood: You're dismissed, Mr. Arc.

Jaune: Uhh... Yes, Sir.

Winter soon took her seat, her arms crossed as she silently grumbled to herself. But, as she grumbled to herself, Harriet leaned over to ask her the important question that was on everyone's mind.

Harriet: So... You, and Jaune~?

Winter: Fuck off!

Harriet: Okay?!

All the while this was happening, Weiss was a few rows behind her sister losing her mind at the sudden realization.

Weiss: Winter... likes, Jaune?!

Yang: Looks like he did steal your sister away...

Weiss: What the fuck?!

Ruby: Guys the meetings over, we need to ask, Jaune what happened before he leaves!

Yang: Oh, shit you're right!

Nora: Let's go! He's got a lot of questions to answer us!

Weiss: Many questions!

~~~

Ruby: Jaune wait!

Jaune was walking towards the landing pads, and was about to reach one of the bullheads when his named was called out from behind him. When he turned around he saw seven individuals he wasn't looking forward to see. A tired sigh escaped his lips, as he stood before them with his hand resting on his swords pommel.

Jaune: Can I help you?

Ruby: You were in the hospital?!

Blake: You killed, Tyrian?!

Ren: They said you were poisoned, were you poisoned because of, Tyrian's stinger?

Nora: Why didn't you tell us any of this?!

Weiss: Did you fuck my sister?!

Jaune was going to answer their string of questions, but was stopped when, Weiss asked her very deliberate, 'important' question. In fact, her question derailed everyone's train of thought. They all shared a stare at, Weiss who looked back at them all in indignation.

Weiss: What?

Jaune just shook his head, before answering everyone's question, deciding to answer, Weiss's first. She looked like she was about to blow a gasket if he didn't answer her first.

Jaune: Okay, Weiss... Winter, and I... Well... we're not in a relationship... there is something there... but... we're... yeah...

Yang: You have no idea what's going on between the two of you, do you?

Jaune: I have as much as an idea as, Winter does. I mean, I like her, she likes me... She kissed me when I was in the hospital. Other than...?!

Weiss: YOU KISSED HER?!

A flash of steel flew through the air as, Weiss drew her rapier, and pointed it at, Jaune's face. He stared at the tip of the blade, resting mere inches from his face. Jaune watched as, Weiss, was being restrained by, Yang, and Ruby. While, Jaune just nonchalantly pushed the blade away from his face with his finger.

Jaune: Weiss, if you want to know anything about this... situation, then ask, Winter. I'm still not sure what to do with her, and... yeah...

Weiss: Fine... but, if I heard you did anything to my sister, I will gut you like a fish!

Jaune: Noted...

Weiss then sheathed her blade, but was still staring daggers at, Jaune.

Jaune: Haa... Okay...

Jaune: I went to the walls of, Mantle to check on the progress of the fortifications. I learned that members of the, Happy Huntresses caused a small disruption at the wall. I learned about a rally that, Robyn Hill was holding, so I went down to ask her what happened.

Jaune: It turns out that only a few of her followers went down to the wall, they were simply demanding why it was taking so long, Luckily members of the, Happy Huntresses dispersed the crowds. After, Robyn Hill explained this to me, I decided to stick around so nothing happened. Good thing that I did...

Jaune: While I was watching the crowd at the rally I noticed a suspicious individual making their way to the stage. I moved to cut them off, and low, and behold it's, Tyrian.

Jaune: So, we fought, I was mostly stalling for time for help to arrive, and to buy time for the civilians to get out. Robyn stayed behind to help me fight, Tyrian. I learned that, Robyn was, Tyrian's target, so to make sure he didn't kill her I threw my sword at him. This left me exposed, and then he jumped me, stabbed my in the shoulder with his shoulder. He then pinned, Robyn down, and was about to kill her. When I then got up, and snapped his neck, killing him. Then fainted, no doubt from a combination of, Tyrian's poison, and an adrenaline rush. Then I woke up in the hospital a day later. Annnnd, that's it.

As, Jaune finished speaking everyone stopped, and stared at, Jaune in stunned amazement. Several of them, Yang, and Blake wanted to call bullshit, but since had, Tyrian's dead body in a morgue somewhere, it was pretty difficult to deny it.

Yang: Okay... that's a lot to take in...

Ren: All of that happened in a day... half a day at that?!

Jaune: A little less than that, but yeah, pretty much.

Blake: You got stabbed by, Tyrian's stinger, and got poisoned?

Jaune: Yeah, his prosthetic stinger was strong enough to pierce my armour. Not to mention his semblance made a hole in my aura to pierce through it. So, I got poisoned. Least I killed, Tyrian, and saved, Robyn Hill.

Nora: Jaune... W-Why didn't you tell us any of this happened?

Jaune could hear the sorrow, and the pain upon, Nora's face. He looked at her, and gave a tired sigh. But, as he thought of his answer, an interesting question came to mind.

Jaune: I was in a coma for over a day, and when I woke up I was going through medical tests to check for poison in my veins. But, if you want to be upset with anyone for not telling you I was in the hospital, they you should ask her, and ask why she didn't tell anyone I was in the hospital.

Jaune looked past, Nora, and looked towards, Penny who walked back in shock.

Penny: M-Me? Why me?

Jaune: You were there when the, Specialists took me to the hospital, and you were there with me, and General Ironwood when I was giving him a debriefing at the hospital. Why didn't you tell them anything about happened?

Penny: Well I...?

Jaune: Now that I think about it... You've been asked multiple times to contact, and find me, and you didn't, couldn't. You were supposed to invite people to my birthday, but you didn't invited anyone. You forgot about me during the game of hide 'an go seek. And, you've lost my contact data several times when you wanted to talk to me. Penny, do you hate me?

Penny: No, I don't hate you. Hiccup!

Everyone froze as they all turned to look at, Penny as a stunning realization slowly came in.

Yang: She hiccupped...?

Weiss: She's lying, why is she lying...?

Jaune: Do you hate me, Penny?

Penny: No, I'm don't. Hiccup!

Jaune: What did I do to make you hate me, Penny?

Penny: Nothing. I don't... Hiccup! I don't hate you. Hiccup!

Jaune: You know hiccupping is your tell, Penny. We all know you're lying. Why are you lying?

Penny: I'm not! Hiccup!

Jaune felt like, Penny was hiding something, not from him, no she was hiding something from herself. And, whatever it was involved him, but how was the question.

Jaune: You're not angry at me for something I did?

Penny: No, no I'm not!

Nora: She didn't hiccup?

Ren: But, why is she hiccupping?

Jaune: You're not angry at me for something I did... Then... Are angry at me because of something someone else did to you?

Penny: No. Hiccup!

Ruby: Why is she angry at him for something someone else did to her?

Yang: Good question...

Jaune: You're angry at me because of something someone else did to you. Yet, you're taking out your anger on me, and not the other person. You're using me as a proxy because you can't let that person know that you hate them...

Penny: N-No I'm not! Hiccup!

Jaune: Not because you don't want them to know you hate them, but because you can't hate them because... because they're dead...

A silence hung in the air as the realization struck them. Penny didn't hate, Jaune because it was, Jaune. She hated him because he was close to someone who hurt, Penny, and Jaune was the only person she could hurt in retribution.

But, this hate had been shoved away by, Penny's subconscious mind. Deep away that she could no longer remember what, or who it was she hated. But, the memory was not shoved deep enough that she didn't remember the raw emotions of this hate. No, she remembered the pain, the sorrow, and her hatred of the one who wronged her.

As, Jaune's mind struggled to put the pieces together he came to a sudden, and startling realization. The fact that there was only one person who had wrong, Penny, and was close to, Jaune that she could direct her hatred towards him.

Jaune: Pyrrha... You're angry at me, because, Pyrrha, my partner, killed you. And, because she's is dead, you cannot direct that hatred towards her, so you've been subconsciously directing it towards me. So, the reason you've been forgetting about me... Is because you've been substituting me for, Pyrrha, and you don't remember that you hate, Pyrrha. So you forget me?

Jaune smiled as he came to this stunning realization. It was a mad, and an absolutely bonkers idea. But, the worst part about, Jaune's mad theory was that it made sense, too much sense. And, they all knew that it was exactly what, Penny was subconsciously thinking when she started hiccupping like a storm.

Penny: That's not...! Hiccup! That's...! Hiccup! I don't...! Hiccup! Pyrrha, didn't...! Hiccup! I-I-I-I...! Hiccup! Hiccup! Hiccup!

Ruby: Penny? Penny, Penny, Penny!

Ruby, and Weiss rushed forward and, caught, Penny she was stumbling about in a fit of hiccups.

Weiss: She's having a panic attack!

Jaune: Ren, use your semblance!

Ren: On it!

Ren reached over, and placed his hand on, Penny's shoulder as a black wave flooded over, Penny as he breathing calmed down, and became more steadied. As they were all watching these things, Jaune gave them a look before walking back to the bullhead.

Ruby: J-Jaune?! Where are you going?

Jaune: I'm sorry, but I have a job to do. I don't have the time, or the training to deal with, Penny's hidden trauma. And, since I seem to be part of the cause of her trauma, I think it'd be for the best that I leave.

Jaune walked onto the bullhead and grabbed the handle bars on top.

Jaune: I'll leave this... situation to you. Till later then.

As the bullhead started to lift away, Jaune spared one last glance at the group as they all comforted their friend. Jaune couldn't help but feel envious that they showed such compassion to their friend.

But, it anger him, because they never showed such compassion to him. Never.

~~~

Jaune was walking down the auditorium as civilians walked around resetting things, some stopped him, and thanks them for saving them, Jaune just told them to thinking nothing of it, he was just doing his job.

But, as, Jaune moved closer, he looked up, and saw, Robyn, and some of her fellow, Happy Huntresses upon the stage. When, Robyn saw him, a wide smile erupted across her face as she came down to greet him.

Robyn: Jaune! You're here!

Jaune: Miss Hill, It is a pleasure to see you are doing well.

Jaune held out his hand as, Robyn came closer to him. Robyn looked at his hand for a moment before remembering to adopt her mask as, Ironwood's political enemy, thus, Specialist Jaune Arc's enemy.

A small smile still spread across her face as she shook, Jaune's hand before adopting a neutral mask once more.

Robyn: It is a pleasure to see you as well, Specialist Arc. How are you doing? I heard you were in the hospital for a while dealing with that scorpion faunas's poison.

Robyn knew fully well what happened to him at the hospital. She went there, and kissed... Checked up on him! No doubt this was just all a political game for the audience to enjoy.

Jaune: Luckily I was able to get to the hospital quickly, and was administered antivenom. I was unconscious for about a day as my body fought it, but bar being a little groggy I am fine. I'm on light duty while I fight threw the last of the poison.

Robyn: I see...

Jaune: Tell me, Miss Hill, how are you doing? Dealing with a near death experience from a psychotic faunas who wanted you dead because your platform wasn't pro-faunas enough must have been pretty straining.

Robyn quirked an eye brow at, Jaune's statement. She quickly caught on to the story he was trying to spread so the citizens present could better understand why, Robyn was attacked by, Tyrian Callows.

Robyn: Ahh yes... Well, you try, and give people something to make their lives easier, yet they still want the world...

Jaune: Did you expect someone like the late, Jacques Schnee to be happy with a just one slice of the cake?

Robyn: No he wouldn't. The greedy bastard would want the whole bakery.

The duo of a politician, and a Specialist as well as several of the people surrounding them shared a laugh. There are many things that divided the people of, Atlas, and Mantle, but shitting on, Jacques Schnee was something that would unite them all.

Jaune: Now then, I need to have a word with you, Miss Hill. It has to do with your recent attack. Alone.

Robyn: Very well. Will you come with me?

Jaune: Lead the way, Miss Hill.

~~~

Robyn, had taken, Jaune on a walk to the head quarters of the, Happy Huntresses. Wasn't much of a place really, just a abandoned warehouse with beddings, and what not put into it to make it live able.

Jaune: And, this is your 'secret base?' It's nice... A little spartan for my liking.

Robyn: You don't like it?

Jaune: Nope. It's has about as much life, and personality as your wanted posters do.

Robyn: Wanted posters? HAS, General Ironwood made wanted posters for...?

Jaune: Your political posters.

Robyn: My campaign posters? What are you...?

Robyn turned to look at one of her campaign posters. She gazed at the strong, and proud visage as it presented in her in a...

Robyn: Oh shit... It does look like a wanted poster...

Robyn's body slumped over as she realized the blunder she had just made. Jaune walked by her, patting her should in a comforting gesture.

Jaune: Don't worry, you're worth at least, ten thousand lien.

Robyn: T-Ten thousand?! I'm at least worth fifteen thousand!

Jaune: Yeah, keep dreaming big, Robyn. Keep dreaming.

Robyn: Ass...

Jaune: Haha.

Jaune then walked past, Robyn as he rubbed his head with his hand letting loose a tired, and pained groan.

Robyn: Are you okay?

Robyn walked over to, Jaune, and place her hand on his shoulder.

Jaune: I'm fine... just a little dizzy. Poison is still being purged from my system.

Jaune shook his head as a deep breath left his lungs.

Jaune: Okay, let's get down to business...

Jaune: Your would be assassin, as I mentioned before, his name was, Tyrian Callows. He was sent here to kill you in order to destabilize the relationship between, Atlas, and Mantle.

Robyn: I suppose that line about me not being pro-faunas enough for his liking was for the common folk?

Jaune: A lie yes, but a believable one nonetheless. The White Fang may have been weakened in the rest of, Remnant, but based on the reports I've read there is still a sizeable force here in, Mantle.

Robyn: Really? I thought after what happened at, Beacon, and at Haven Academy they would have been disbanded.

Jaune: Technically they did, that is if you can call a rebranding a disbanding.

Robyn: They rebranded?

Jaune: Yep, the Atlas faction of the, White Fang is now calling themselves the, Ice Fangs.

Robyn: Ice Fang? Not a bad name...

Jaune: Better than the 'Happy Huntresses.' Who came up with that dumb name?

Robyn: Hey!

Robyn lightly punched, Jaune's arm as he laughed at her expense. The smile on her face was radiant as she laughed with him. But, her smile slowly fell as serious face crossed her face.

Robyn: Will he be the last, or the first among many that seeks to take my life?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: It's hard to tell... They might come after you again, so I suggest you keep your guard up. But, they might not come after you; General Ironwood is their main target, there's no doubt about that. Tyrian may have just been exploring, Mantle, learned that you were holding a rally, and that you happened to be there. You could have just been nothing more than a target of opportunity.

Robyn: That's somewhat comforting...

Robyn: You promise you'll save me, from these... shadows in the dark?

Jaune: I swore that I would, Robyn. Arc's don't break their word.

Robyn walked over to, Jaune and gently grabbed his collar as she looked at him.

Robyn: You know... It really is nice to have a knight in shinning armour watching over me...

As she was playing with his collar, she noticed he was wearing the badge she gave him.

Robyn: You're wearing the badge I gave you! It's crooked, may I...?

Jaune: Go ahead. I just put it on today. I think it got moved around when, Winter interrogated me about it.

Robyn froze as she was readjusting the badge.

Robyn: She did what...?

Jaune: Yeah, she saw it, and I explained it how I got it, and why I called it a token of affection, she lost it when I said that...

Robyn: Lost it...?

Jaune: Yeah. She gave me this sash when I join the, Specialist as a present. Then after she learned about the badge you gave me being a token of affection, me being a knight and all of that. She decided that this sash was her token of affection, to her knight. It was really scary actually...

Robyn: A token of affection...? Winter's token of affection... for you...?

Jaune: Yeah... her token of affection for her knight. That's what she said.

Robyn: 'Her' knight...? Jaune...?

Jaune: Y-Yes, Robyn...?

Jaune felt a chill run up his spine, a chill that only intensified as she stared at him with those cool lilac eyes of hers. She gripped the collars of his coat in her hands as she gave him a cold smile.

Robyn: Jaune~! Please tell me what your relationship with, Winter Schnee is~?

Jaune: S-S-She's my superior officer! Nothing more!

Robyn: It's red!

Jaune: What?! You're using your semblance on me, not cool, Robyn!

Robyn: Tell me the truth, Jaune!

Jaune: Okay okay okay! I have a crush on her, she somehow has a crush on me of all people! She's given me a token of affection! That's it!

Robyn: Its red again!

Jaune: Okay, okay! We've kissed, that's it!

Robyn: When did you two kiss?!

Jaune: At the hospital! B-Before you kissed me!

Robyn: What?! She kissed you before me, dammit! Alright then, Jaune... you tell, Specialist Winter Schnee this! We are at war!

Jaune: War? What are you talking abou... MMPH?!

Robyn pulled, Jaune in by the collar for a hungry, and thirsty kiss. As the kiss ended, she bit his lips, dragging her teeth across his lips as she pulled away, as she let out a deep, hungry gasp of air, as she stared at him with hearts in her eyes.

Robyn: We're at war, for you~!

Jaune: F-F-For me...?!

Robyn: For you~!

Jaune: Uh oh...

~~~

Jaune entered the locker room for the, Specialist. He hadn't done much today, mostly talking with people, but good gods he felt exhausted.

As he entered the room, he saw, Winter at her locker. She turned, and smile when she heard him enter.

Jaune: Hey, Winter.

Winter: Oh, hello... Jaune...?

Jaune: Something wrong, Winter?

Winter walked over to, Jaune grabbing his cheeks as she looked at his face.

Winter: Is that lipstick on your face?

Jaune: Oh shit! I forgot to... Ahhh?!

Winter fiercely grabbed, Jaune by his collar, a common theme of the day so it seemed.

Winter: Who kissed you?!

Considering this was the third time he had been roughly grabbed by his collars by a feisty. Huntress, Jaune decided it was best to just answer her, less he gets killed, but a jealous woman.

Jaune: Robyn, Robyn Hill did it! S-She likes me, just like you do!

Winter: SHE WHAT?!

Jaune: A-And, she kissed me as her declaration of war to you!

Winter: A declaration of war? For what?

Jaune: M-Me...

Winter: Okay... then the next time you see her, Jaune, tell her this!

Jaune: Tell her wha... MPHH?!

For the second time today, Jaune had been pulled in by the collar for a fierce kiss. Instead of teeth biting his lips, Jaune felt, Winter's tongue invade his mouth leaving a trail of saliva as she broke the kiss.

Winter: I accept~!

Winter lightly tapped his cheeks as she left, leaving a stunned, and very confused, Jaune behind. He panted heavily as he whipped his lips clean of the make up, and saliva from, Winter's tongue. With nothing but, one thought upon his mind.

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Well, I'm fucked...

331 notes · View notes

windvexer · 9 days ago

Note

Hi Chicken!

What's your opinion on someone *asking* a spirit to give them the Sight?

I've seen posts where people say that it has to be a gift, and can't be asked for. (And some saying it's disrespectful to even ask)

I've seen other people say that they asked their deities/spirits to provide them with it and they did.

Obviously everyone's going to have a different opinion, but I'm just curious what yours is!

💚🥰

We're in reference to this post and this post.

I am feral and crying.

It is so weirdly bizarre how difficult it is for witches to ask their helper spirits for help.

We can be talking tutelary spirits, friends, caring gods, literal familiars contracted to help, any of them -

It midkey messes me up how resistant witches are (and myself included sometimes) to just asking for help.

"I really want to learn this but I'm struggling-" "Did you ask your spirits for help?" "No I don't want to bother them." (*I would rather learn generic things online than continue the line of knowledge and lore carried by my spirits; I don't want to be a beacon that shines their light into the world through acting on their teachings, thereby being their conduit into this world, granting them reciprocal power and deep honor.)

'Second Sight' may be a generic term for a skill, but the technique you use to access it is unique to you. The spiritual mythology and lore behind why your spirits teach things this way, and the most important and moral uses for this skill, are unique to your spirit family.

The spirits choosing to help us is a big commitment on their part. When spirits choose to become our guides, protectors, familiars, and initiators, we often think of how this is our responsibility (to talk to them, to give offerings, whatever). But not many people talk about how much of a responsibility it is for them.

Why would spirits undertake this huge responsibility - of being someone's guiding god, of being their helper spirit, of teaching them magical skills? Is it because they all just want offerings? Is it out of a sense of duty?

No.

I hazard a guess, in fact I will offer a belief for the taking, that most spirits who choose to help us do so because they love us and care about us.

They sit down with us, break bread with us at our table, and invite us into their families. They do it because they want to be our family.

And when we join their families,

we honor and respect them by often asking for help.

Why is this?

Because when you ask them for help learning Second Sight, they get to teach you their familial methods and traditions. They get to teach you their lore and stories. They get to celebrate the passing of their clan's knowledge down to the next generation of practitioners.

They are the mythic elders dancing with joy that the practitioner they help, guide, and protect, loves them back enough to learn their ways.

Witchcraft is family!!

"Ohhhh trade skills are dying out in the world, everyone go learn how to fix watches, tradesmen will cry and sob with joy and relief knowing someone wants to learn their lifes work"

"Don't ask your spirits to learn their trade though it's rude and disrespectful, do everything on your own from scratch :)"

Witchcraft is family.

I would teach any of my family how to crochet. I'm quite fancy at it, and I'm a good teacher. Who will I teach: the person who asks to learn, or the person who does not ask to learn?

It is a gift either way.

Asking for it doesn't make it less of a gift.

Witchcraft is family you have to choose to participate in.

"I wish I could make lasagna~" "Grandma Benini is coming for Labor Day, she'd be so happy that someone wanted to learn the family recipe-" "I could never disrespect Grandma Benini by asking to learn her lasagna recipe. I'll just watch a youtube video." "But... it's the family recipe..." "Can you imagine how disrespected she would be. If she knew. I wanted to carry on the family traditions. Instead of just teaching myself generic. From online. ??"

When you participate in your spirit family's teachings and enact their wisdom, morals, skills, and goals in the world, you are a literal conduit of the spirit world - a lamp that shines their light into this world, and providing them with reciprocal influence and power into the world.

It does not honor the spirits to shut them out. It is not respectful to ignore their extended hand of grace. You are not a burden to them.

You are not a burden to them.

They are here because they want you to be a part of the family.

And if you like, if you want to, you can ask them to help you learn the family's ways. You can ask them to help you with Sight to see the family, with knowledge to understand the family, and with skills to help the family.

If you want to, you can live a path filled with the teachings and wisdom of your spirits. You can be a singular point in timespace where their teachings spill over into the world around you.

You can be the body of your spirits in this world. You can be their footprint.

But how can you, unless you ask them to shine through you?

What if the spirits didn't roll their eyes and tap their feet when you came calling? What if they didn't groan and look at their watches and say, 'well at least I'll get an offering...'

What if their eyes filled with love and they breathed a sigh of relief that you now, finally, are ready to ask to receive the gifts that have always been offered?

#answered #spirit work #tbl

188 notes · View notes

missadangel · 4 months ago

Text

The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x OC)

All Chapters List

X. The Conflict (+18, Smut, MDNI)

“non est vivere sed valere vita est.”

Life is more than just being alive.

The distance from the city to the port of Ostia was not great, but the ride was rather lengthy and tiring, even for a seasoned rider. Octavius was ever watchful, noting when you were faltering and offering you a respite. You declined, though your body was crying out for it. Your sole concern was to reach Marcus before it was too late. Fortunately, a little later, Octavius noticed a few tracks on the ground as you passed through the dark woods, slowed down and dismounted his horse. He crouched down and examined the tracks then looked at you.

"We should continue on foot from this point onwards, my lady."

"Are we close?" You looked around but there was nothing in sight.

"Indeed. We must proceed with caution and avoid attracting attention. We need to leave the horses here," he said, holding the reins of his horse as he approached you and extended his hand.

"Thank you sir but I can dismount myself." You said and got down from your horse, despite the soreness in your legs. It felt nice to be able to step on the ground again. Unio let out a soft neigh, as if she had read your thoughts. You stroked her face and, grasping her reins, walked in the direction Octavius had said. It was quite some distance from the road and not very visible. In this darkness of the night, it would have been difficult to see anything if not for the moonlight anyway.

Once you had tied your horses, you set off through the forest, guided by Octavius. You eventually reached a hill. It appeared to be a rather tranquil. The only sound that could be heard was the hooting of an owl.

“My lady, if I might ask you to consider promising me something,” Octavius said.

You raised your eyebrows. “What is it?”

"If we don't make it in time, you'll come back to the villa with me."

“No need to worry about that now, if we make it in time, Sir Octavius.”

He sighed. “I'm pretty sure Acacius will kill me this time,” he muttered.

You looked at him with a hint of guilt. “I'm sorry, but you're doing this for him, for your General, your friend.”

"I hope he's already taken care of him and I hope we've came here for nothing. I'd be really happy to be reprimanded and even punched by him."

You laughed nervously. "Would it offend you if I said I hope so too, sir?"

He grinned. "Never, my lady."

"You are a good friend, Octavius.

"Always at your service.”

You were startled by the sound of a horse neighing and immediately sought cover behind nearby bushes. You observed that three horses were tethered in the forest.

"That's Dromos," you realized.

"We must be close," Octavius said quietly.

You soon heard the sound of swords clashing in the distance and moved at a slow pace towards it. When you saw Marcus from behind, you were on the verge of running to him without thinking, but Octavius grabbed you by the shoulder and pulled you back.

“We can't let them see us,” he said, warning you.

He led you to move out of sight to the left, where you hid in the bushes. You observed the situation at a distance and noticed that Marcus cut a soldier with his sword made him collapsed to the ground. However he was alone, probably having lost his men. Macrinus, on the other hand, was standing just behind the five soldiers.

“General, you must cease this nonsense. You'll get yourself killed.”

“Not before I take your life first!”

Your heart was racing with worry. Even for Marcus, who was one against five men, survival was a near impossibility. Octavius stepped in front of you as you stood up.

“My lady, please wait here, I will back him up," he whispered, his hand moving to his sword.

Just then, you heard horse hooves and three horsemen appeared, coming towards them from ahead. Macrinus let out a laugh. Octavius swallowed and looked at his General, unsure of what to do.

At the time you thought you had to stop it somehow, knowing the fact that Marcus won't stand much of a chance. It seemed that he had no intention of retreating though. Furthermore, he assumed a defensive stance, grasping his sword more firmly.

You reached out to grasp Octavius' arm as he began to step towards them.

"I must stop them."

Octavius opened his eyes wide. "But how, my lady? No, return to your horse now, and-"

"No, please hear me out. I don't believe Macrinus will harm me. And Marcus won't let him go no matter what. Besides even with your help, you can't beat all of them. This is the only way.”

Octavius seemed unsure. "What makes you so sure that he won't harm you?’

“Think about it. He has known me for quite some time.” You observed them from behind the bushes. It seemed as though Marcus was contemplating an attack. “If he wanted to kill me he would have done it when we were alone, but instead he made me appear before the council, why do you think?”

"To help you regain your title and gain formal recognition."

'Well, it wasn't out of the goodness of his heart, of course. I believe that when he ascends to the throne, he thinks it would be beneficial for him to have a strong consort that he values in his council." Your voice cracked.

Octavius clenched his jaw. “There is no stronger consort than a princess,” he muttered. Then opened his eyes wide. “If he kills the General-“ he swallowed, words caught in his throat.

“I won't let that happen. So step aside and let me stop them.”

Octavius nodded in despair. "If things don't go well, I'll be here to ensure your safety and that of the General. I'll do my utmost until my last breath.”

You nodded and took a deep breath, moving slowly through the bushes. Just then all five men and the others drew their swords making a schwing sound echoing through the woods.

"General, this is my final warning. It is not possible for you to survive this." Macrinus called out to him.

Marcus was aware that, regardless of his considerable strength as a warrior, it would be extremely challenging to fight against such a large number of soldiers. But retreat was not an option for him. He had to take Macrinus down and make sure his head was severed from his body, no matter what. If he could do that, he didn't mind facing his own death in the end. He was only afraid of being separated from you; he had no other fears at all. He was truly grateful for all those beautiful moments he shared with you. Getting ready for a confrontation, he pointed his sword at the soldier charging towards him. Just as he was about to attack, you suddenly jumped in between them, yelling.

“Stop!"

With determination, you swiftly drew your knife from its sheath on your ankle, holding it firmly in one hand as you prepared to execute your seemingly absurd plan. Marcus opened his eyes wide, looked at you in surprise, and then glanced around.

"Aurelia! What the hell are you doing here?" He yelled.

"My lady!" Macrinus was shocked too. Keeping his distance, moving towards you behind the soldiers, equally bewildered.

"End this, please." You said without looking at either of them.

"Go back, now!" Marcus shouted, knowing full well who had brought you here.

"I'm not going anywhere without you," you protested.

"I have to finish what I started. Now, go!” He hissed.

He brandished his sword at Macrinus's men once more, determined not to back down. You, however, had no intention of letting him get himself killed. With no other option, you put your knife against your neck. Marcus looked back at you, astounded. As your eyes met, Macrinus, as you had suspected, grew concerned and approached you.

“That knife looks pretty dangerous, my lady. I think you should give that to me.”

“Stay back!” You shouted at him, “Don't come any closer!”

“Are you mad? What do you think you're doing?” Marcus roared. He was boiling with anger.

"I'm a medicus, aren't I? I know exactly how and where I should cut to kill myself without suffering."

Marcus clenched his jaw.

"Do you wish to kill yourself, my lady?" Macrinus asked.

You looked at him, feeling the sharp surface of the knife, it made you tense but forced yourself to stay calm. Also, it seemed like a good opportunity to see if your theory was correct.

“You don't want me to die, do you, Sir Macrinus?’

He raised his hand as if he wants to stop you. “No, of course not, my lady. Please put that knife down.” He looked at Marcus. “Acacius, I think we're done here.”

Marcus looked at him with a piercing gaze. “This isn't over, Macrinus.”

He laughed, then his gaze hardened as he looked at him. “You'd better be on the right side when the inevitable happens, General, if you care enough for your wife.”

“If not today, rest assured that I will end you.” Marcus growled.

“It would only be to your detriment,” he said, his eyes shifting to you before he nodded and turned. He tapped one of his soldiers on the shoulder. “Sheath your swords! We're heading for the harbour!” He jumped on his horse and the soldiers followed him behind.

Marcus turned his head towards you and came up to you angrily, snatching your knife and pulling so hard that you stumbled towards him.

"Why did you come here? How dare you hold a knife to your throat?" he barked. His voice was loud enough to make you startle. "I didn't give you this to cut yourself! Don't you value your own life at all?"

"You're the one who doesn't value your own life!" You shouted back. Marcus frowned. "What's the matter with you? Do you think it's worth risking your life trying to kill him? You know how it feels when you lose someone you care about. How can you be so selfish? Have you ever thought about what I'd do if you died? You're so mean.”

As your tears rolled down your cheeks, Marcus' expression softened. He approached you, took your face in his hands and gently wiped your tears away with his thumbs. His dark brown eyes spoke volumes, but he was so angry that he remained silent. After staring at you for a while, he pulled his hands back and looked towards the bushes.

"Octavius! I know you're in there, get over here now!"

The bushes rustled and crunched loudly. As soon as Octavius set foot on the dirt road, you noticed the tension on his face despite the darkness. He came up to you and bowed his head to the General. Marcus gripped him by his leather armour in his fist and pulled roughly.

“Since when have you begun to disobey my orders?”

“Forgive me, sir. I was wrong.”

“I forced him, Marcus,” you interjected.

He ignored you. “I told you to protect her, you shouldn't have cared about what she said to you. You should have stopped her, Even if it meant locking her up or tying her up, it would have been better to do so.”

You laughed hysterically. “You can't be serious.”

He turned towards you. “I'm quite serious, my lady. Instead of risking your life in such a ridiculous way, you would be safe."

You rolled your eyes. "I wasn't really intending to kill myself. I just wanted to be sure of Macrinus' intentions, but you were so determined to sacrifice yourself without listening to me, so I didn't know what else I could do.”

“We'll talk about it when we return home,” he said, pointing his index finger at you. Then he turned and approached his soldiers lying lifeless on the ground, sorrow evident in his eyes. “Octavius, make sure the funeral rituals for our brothers shall be arranged.”

“Yes, sir.” He approached him, kneeling next to a soldier and closing his eyelids.

From a distance, you watched them and found yourself blaming yourself. Perhaps if you had arrived sooner, you could have played a role in saving their lives. Or, if you had come later, Marcus might have faced a similar fate. You shook your head and tried to put these thoughts out of your mind.

While Octavius tended to the deceased soldiers, you and Marcus returned to the villa on horseback. It was just after midnight. The vast majority of the villa's residents were awake and gathered in the courtyard, awaiting your return. Marcus remained silent all the way back, likely still enraged at you. You were no different. It was torture to think that you had nearly lost him because of Macrinus.

Cato respectfully took hold of the reins of Marcus' horse as he jumped down. You dismounted too, noting that your legs felt a little sore from the long ride. As soon as you landed on the ground, you felt a momentary loss of balance, but Marcus' arm caught you. You smiled at him. Even though he was angry; he was still there to protect you. However, he did not smile back. Instead, he took hold of your wrist and pulled you towards the courtyard. Furthermore, he was not as gentle as he usually was. He did not care when you moaned from the pain in your wrist. He took a quick glance at everyone in the courtyard who greeted you and pulled you towards the stairs. When you turned your head, you saw their faces. They seemed grateful for the safe return of their Dominus, but perhaps a little worried about you. At least, that was your interpretation, because you knew you were in trouble.

He shut the door behind you. You were glad when he released your wrist, as it started to throb. You knew it would be bruised by the next day. Marcus put his holster away while you rubbed your wrist with your other hand. You went over to help him remove his armour. He was aware of your intentions and leaned against the edge of his desk with his arms folded. There was blood splattered on the Medusa's face and on the leather strips of the armour. You gave Marcus a direct look as you undid the armour's threads. He was still frowning and staring ahead. He still seemed to refuse to look at you as you undid the other side.

“You know you're not the only one who's angry, right?”

He then turned his head to you as your fingers unraveled the threads a little harder.

“You can't be any angrier than I am.” He took off his armour.

You crossed your arms, “Why not, I can be just as angry as you.” You lifted your head and looked away stubbornly.

Marcus was trying not to laugh at your behaviour. He pressed his lips together and cleared his throat.

“No way, princess. I'm more than angry; I'm fuming!”

You looked at him as he walked towards you. His gaze certainly showed his anger, but when you noticed the hint of mischief at the corner of his lips, you decided to continue playing this game. He was removing his armbands.

“Fuming? Hah! I'm furious!” you shouted sarcastically.

He threw the armbands on the floor and came right in front of you. This time his gaze was intense.

“I'm filled with wrath!” he growled.

You involuntarily took a step backwards. “So?”

He appeared to be relishing the opportunity to engage in this somewhat heated, sexual tension-filled game, as he took a few steps towards you.

Suddenly, your back slammed on the wall. He lifted your wrists above your head and leaned in.

"I think you deserve some punishment," he murmured, his breath caressing your ears and causing your body to shudder. He pressed his pelvis against yours and his lips found the vein on your neck. He sucked and nibbled at it, sending a tingling sensation throughout your body. His lips trailed from your neck to your chin, and you found yourself longing to touch them.

You took a sharp intake of breath. He teased your lips with a slight touch before retreating. You leaned forward, aiming for his lips, but you failed. He smirked. His right hand roughly removes your cloak and undresses you, while his left hand keeps a strong hold on your wrists. Your dress fell to the floor, pooling around your feet as the hem caught on the scabbard tied around your ankle. Marcus bent down, untied it and pulled it off. Suddenly, he grabbed you by the legs and threw you over his shoulder. Before you could blink, you were on the bed, gasping for breath. Your stomach tightened with excitement when he emerged from above you.

But he still hadn't taken off his tunic, you thought angrily.

It seemed a bit unfair that you were the only one who was naked. He pushed you back gently when you reached towards him. "Not yet, princess." His hot breath hit your breasts, making you squirm. You were infuriated when he roughly spread your legs with the palm of his hand. Was he going to enter you before your lips met and traveled over each other's body, before his hands caressed your breasts? That's what he called punishment?

You bit your lower lip as you felt his strong fingers on your most sensitive spot. But his fingers lingered, moving in circles. You wanted to sit up and look at him, but he pushed you backwards with his other hand. After teasing your clit with his fingers, which made you clench the sheet, he grabbed your hips and buried his head between your legs. He deliberately blows into your folds, making pleasure run through your body. His erection sears your skin, making you aware that he's getting pleasure from driving you mad with his mouth. He flips his tongue and sucks your most sensitive area hungrily, relentlessly. You moan loudly and your response encourages him to increase the pressure. He is an expert in the art of pleasure giving and he uses you as skilfully as he uses his sword.

“Marcus,” you groaned, you're almost sure that your voice echoing in every corner of the villa. Feeling almost at the edge. You feel him smiling as he moves his lips and touches your body with his warm tongue and fingers. But he retreats suddenly. You moan in protest. You open your eyes to look at him. Panting. You feel a surge of disappointment and a distinct sense of being used. But he laughs cruelly. He wipes your sweet liquid from his lips with his thumb, then licks and sucks the tip, smiling crookedly all the while.

You frown. “So that was your punishment?”

“I was actually going to do more, but…" He quickly takes off his tunic, throwing it on the floor. “I missed you so much and I want you so badly right now.”

“Take me then.” You smiled naughtily.

He smiles back and grabs your arm, using his soldier strength, he turns you and bends you over until you're crouching on your knees. One of his hands is still holding yours behind your back, and the other keeps your torso down so your breasts press against the silk sheet. You wriggle, and his grip tightens. Gods! You haven’t ever felt so helpless. Used like a toy. He keeps teasing your lower wet lips with the tip of his erection. His voice is husky, sensual. “How will I take you, my sweet princess?”

He digs his fingers deep into the cheeks of your butt. This position feels raw, animalistic but pleasantly erotic at the same time. “Shall I take you this way?” he asks without stopping his hungry attack. His warm breath, and beard tickles your ear, and waves of hot pleasure wash through your skin. As though your body is a toy, he forcibly turns you again, and now your under him once more. One hand holds you immobile by your throat. The other grabs your hip. "Or this way?" he says as his now-soaked tip presses against your entrance, bringing shudders and ecstasy into your squirming body. You moan loudly, pressing his lips to yours roughly, silencing you.

He’s taken full control of your body and won’t share it with you. He’ll take you in any way he wants. And, yet, because your body is yearning for him, you can’t bring yourself to ask him to stop, this was a huge turn-on for you. "Marcus," you whimpered. "Please, I want to be yours. Take me now. Pretty, pretty, please." You begged.

He smiled and let you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him to you. He was as impatient as you were, but he was determined to keep this fun and heated game going. He was having fun rubbing his lips against yours and making you whimper a little more. For him, there was no comparison to watching you squirm to be his. But he couldn't wait to be inside you, and when he finally pushed his length inside your walls, entered you roughly, your body trembled with pleasure. You felt euphoric when his mouth finally met yours. You enjoy him kissing you with incredible hunger until you forget to breathe. With each rough thrust, you instinctively dug your fingers into his back which made him lose it, deepening the kiss, turning it into a carnal mating of mouths. He bit your lower lip, and you moaned with both pain and pleasure. He released his bruising grip, the hard press of his lips, and rolled onto his back, taking you with him. He seems a little worried, but when you giggle at him, he grins and buries his head between your breasts, licking your sternum all the way to your neck. He grabs you by the waist and spins you around, your back hitting his chest. He kisses your shoulder, nuzzles his nose into your hair and finds your ear.

“I want to take you this way.” His hot breath hits your ear as he caresses his way up your neck, making you shiver.

He practically has to arrange your limbs himself as he folds you forward onto your hands and knees and settles behind you. He wrapped his arms around your torso, entering you from behind, and you moved together, as one, never once breaking your intimate connection. When he increased his rhythm, one hand gathered your hair on one side of your neck. His lips traveled from your neck to your exposed shoulder, while his other hand wrapped around your waist. This position made you feel his length much deeper inside you. Your mewl-like moans were added to his and harmonized with the slick sound of each thrust. it sounded like your own special music. Marcus' hands slid under your arms to your breasts and cupped them. You threw your head back in pleasure, bumping into his shoulder as he kissed your neck repeatedly. With his forehead and brows covered in sweat, he sensed that the end was near and his hands gripped your hips tightly, deepening his thrusts and reaching his climax at the same time as you. You instinctively leaned forward as he filled you with his warm liquid, but he caught you and wrapped his arms around you tightly. He groaned loudly and his hot breath washed over your ear. You felt his nose on your cheekbone. His hand cupped your chin, turned your face to his and kissed you passionately. As you wrapped your arms around his neck and turned towards him, he pulled out of you and pressed his forehead to yours, both of you panting. Your eyes were closed, savouring the moment as the sweat mingled on your forehead and ran down your cheeks. You opened your eyes as Marcus placed a kiss on the tip of your nose.

He brushed back a few strands of hair that stuck to your forehead, also caught in your eyelashes. You looked into his eyes and looked at him.You spoke with your eyes for a while, then he frowned. He took your face in his hands, his expression serious. You were unaware that you were crying until his thumbs wiped away your tears from your cheeks. He bent his head and kissed your eyelids and long eyelashes. You nuzzled your head into his neck and he wrapped his arms around you. You couldn't stop your sobs and tears. All the emotions you felt seemed to take over your body at once.

His fingers ran through your hair. “My love. From now on, I won't risk my life easily,” he said in a velvety tone. “So please don't cry.”

You nodded and sniffled. Marcus kissed the top of your head and pulled you down with him onto the bed. You snuggled into his chest, realising how much you missed him even though it had only been a few days. It was late at night and the only sound in the room was the two of you breathing.

“I guess this has become a habit for me,” Marcus broke the silence.

You raised your head and looked at him. You ran your eyes over the sparse beard on his chin, greying in places.

"I've always lived my life like this, always fighting, battling, killing. It's the easiest thing I can do." His fingers traced the curve of your spine. “I was never afraid, not of death, not of losing. I just fought. It was easy because I had nothing to lose. That night, when I was poisoned, I knew it was time for my eternal rest. I felt relieved, not afraid, but ready.”

You swallowed, thinking about that night for the first time in a long while.

"But then I saw those eyes and they gave me the purpose to carry on living." He tenderly touched your cheek with the back of his hand. You raised your head to meet his gaze. He was already looking at you.

“Now I have a responsibility,” he smiled. “My weakness.” He bent his head and stroked yours with his nose. “A beautiful reason for me to die for.” His lips ran through your forehead. "Dying for Rome is easy, simple. But for you, my lady, it's hard, painful. The thought of never seeing you again.” He exhaled deeply. “It puts me in agony.” He frowned. “Just when I saw you put that knife to your neck so recklessly. It was painful too. I'm still angry with you for that.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow to look at him. "I feel the same way, Marcus. I can't even begin to tell you how much it hurts me to think of losing you. I couldn't sit idly by while you risk your life. I'd never be able to bear to lose you." Even the thought of it made you shudder.

He sighed and turned his head towards you. “You won't lose me. There is nothing more important to me in this life than you. How whole and at peace I feel when I hold you in my arms when I'm deep inside you. The reason is you, princess. The reason I wake up every morning with a smile. The reason I am eager to return home from my duties. To you. So I don't want you to do one more thing to put yourself in danger.”

You kissed his chest. You wanted to say more but his words were so beautiful, you couldn't object. You felt tired from the horse journey so you snuggled closer to him. Before he wrapped his arm around you, he covered you both with the sheet. You were finally about to get the peaceful sleep you had been longing for for days. In his arms.

When you woke up in the morning, the sun was high in the sky, but it wasn't its light that woke you up. Instead, it was the gentle caresses you felt on your legs that roused you. Your hand moved to the side of the bed to feel the sheets, but Marcus wasn't there. You opened your eyes when the caresses on your legs were replaced by nibbles. Was he under the sheet? Your eyes opened wide when you saw Marcus's face, smirking at you from between your legs.

“Morning, princess.” His boyish and mischievous grin spread all over his face. “May I?”

“What are you- Ow!” You gasped when you felt his tongue on your most sensitive area.

Expertly, he was licking, biting, sucking, giving you incredible pleasure this early in the morning. You had now discovered all the men inside his enormous body. The honourable man, the dominant leader, the fearless warrior, the poet, the loving husband, the romantic gentleman, the expert lover full of lust, the child inside the fourth year old man.

You smiled when the lustful expert lover has taken you to the sky full of pleasure. It's empowering to know that it was you who drove a powerful, dominating, strong beast like him mad. As you descend from the sky, he settles on top of you, placing kisses from your legs to your belly and then to your breasts and chin. He kisses your eyelids and asks you to look at him without telling you. Now that you know him so well, you immediately obey. Since you are already so ready for him, he enters you easily. He wraps his arms around you, you throw your hands back and clench the sheets. Your body curves backwards and he speeds up his thrusts. You try to suppress the urge to close your eyes tightly. He realises and finds a new solution for you and presses his forehead to yours. You smile when your eyelashes touch. But then, when he gets closer to the edge, also gets deeper into you and increases the pace tremendously, he buries his head in your collarbone. You wrap your arms tightly around his neck. And once again, you ascend to the sky. This time, you feel immense pleasure. You feel a few bites on your neck. You look at him, your eyes alight with wonder, and marvel at the beauty of the man that is coming undone inside you. He tightens his arms around your waist and moans as he reaches his climax. His body collapses on top of yours, his arms loosening. It's so beautiful to watch him as you feel his heated breath on your neck. To feel his heart thudding violently against his chest, the way your bodies connected. You both savour the glorious, euphoric feeling of being in love. Your breathing returns to ease, you feel him soften inside you and he lies down beside you, pulling you into his arms.

"Do you have any duties today?" you ask as you run your fingers over his chest.

"Yes, first I have to meet with my legates, then I have to go to the barracks. I believe there may be someone spying for Macrinus. It would be beneficial to find him before he returns to Rome."

"Didn't you say you'd already found him?"

"No, he was Julia's." His voice was sharp. You were sure he killed him. It must have been very hard for him though, a soldier from his own troops spying for someone else. After a moment or two of silence, you asked him to change the subject.

"Am I forgiven?"

“I’m thinking about it.”

You sat up in bed, intending to study his face, but suddenly a feeling of nausea hit you and you fell back. Your neck hit his shoulder.

“Oh…" You put your hand to your head. Your vision was blurred, closed your eyelids.

“My love. Are you alright?" There was concern in his voice. He sat up in bed and wrapped his arms around you.

You opened your eyes and smiled at his worried face. “My head is spinning a bit.”

“It's almost noon. You've been sleeping for a while.”

“Noon?" You hadn't realised it had been that long. You were usually up early, woken by the rooster. Perhaps it was because you hadn't slept well for a few days without him. Maybe it was because you hadn't slept properly in his absence for days. "But did you wake up first and await me?"

"That is correct, but then I became somewhat impatient if you remember." he winked.

You smiled shyly. He graciously kissed the top of your head. “My lady, I believe that you may be hungry, are you not?"

You yawned and nodded. “Indeed I am. I must admit that I am rather famished after my longest horse journey.”

He laughed. "I'll tell them to prepare a lunch for us. I must then take my leave.”

Once Marcus had departed from the villa, you wanted to check on the girls. Norell and Decima were sitting together in the courtyard, weaving rugs. You stood nearby, observing them. Decima was from Egypt, so she was used to weaving and her hands were moving with practiced ease. She mentioned about it before.

"My lady, would you care to try?" Decima asked.

"It looks very intricate," you hesitated.

Tullia came into the courtyard with a laundry basket. She made a slight gesture of respect with her head as she caught sight of you. You observed that she was walking with a slight limp. She seemed to be in pain.

“Tullia, your leg seems to be bothering you."

She put the basket down and let out a sigh. “My knees, my lady. I guess it's because I'm too old now.”

"Let me take a look," you said gently, walking over to her. Despite her objection, you helped her sit down in the chair and examined her knees. Given her late fifties age, you diagnosed her with rheumatism, given her late fifties age.

"I think I know what will be good for you," you said, walking to your private clinic-like room. Tullia's eyes widened when you returned with the hemlock jar.

“Isn't this herb poisonous?”

You smiled. “Yes, and potentially deadly.” You teased her.

“Gods, my lady, please forgive me if I've made a mistake.” She placed her hand on her chest.

“Please calm yourself, Tullia. It is indeed a very poisonous plant. However, it is also very useful to the body. I'll make you a tea of this, you drink it every other day, understood?’"

She was still looking at you weirdly.

You laughed. “You do trust me, do you not?”

She nodded. "I am grateful to you, my lady, for ensuring General's safe return to his home. So, I have great trust in you.”

You smiled. ”I imagine you must have known him for quite some time.”

"That's correct. I've been fortunate to reside in this villa for as long as I can remember."

"I see. Then you knew Marcus's father, the Dominus'?"

"Yes, my lady.”

She had been with him for many years, residing in this villa. She had likely witnessed his childhood, his youth, his unhappy marriage, everything. You felt a bit envious of her, as though she knew more about him than you know about Marcus. But you were also grateful for her loyalty over the years.

“It's the first time I've seen him alive,” she said, surprising you.

“How do you mean?” You demanded.

"Dominus. He would prefer us not to call him that, not after his father. I must say that after you came into his life, I felt like I didn't know him. He was rather solemn, and it was rare to see him smile. But now I see that he's really alive. It's so pleasant to see him like that. I'm really grateful for that, my lady."

You put a hand on her shoulder. "And I'm grateful that you have cared for him over the years, that you have served him, that you have looked after him."

She put her hand on yours. "It is my duty," she said, smiling softly.

“Domina!"

You both turned your heads to the slave who came running towards you.

“My Lady, the Imperial guard has arrived.”

You inhaled. "Am I being summoned?"

The slave looked at you with hesitation and bowed his head, which meant affirmative. Decima came to stand beside you. "Shall I come with you?"

You grasped her hand. “Yes, please.”

It was your brother Geta who summoned you this time. You weren't particularly curious, but you felt it would be a good idea to pay him a visit. You couldn't help but feel a little concerned about him, though. Besides, it seemed like a good idea to stop by the poorhouse on the way back. You were keen to find out how the children are doing, since you missed them. By the time the imperial carriage arrived at Palatine Hill, it was already late afternoon. You came to realise that you didn't miss wearing stola much since it was difficult to get used to the feeling of being tangled in their feet. And the knife Marcus gave you wasn't helping at all. It seemed a little odd to wear it on your ankle when you couldn't actually use it properly, but you had promised him after all. Geta was waiting for you in the great courtyard. When he realised you, he came running to you with a wide smile, his arms outstretched.

"Aurelia, you've been missed, sister!" He embraced you. You flinch every time he does this, but he deliberately ignores it.

"I'm really curious to know why you called me here."

"Come, let's talk while we drink. Shall we?" He led you to an armchair in the courtyard. You sat down next to him, and adjusted your dress to cover the knife on your leg.

"Wine," Geta ordered the slaves.

One of the slaves poured you a glass of wine. Decima was standing right next to you.

"So, you ordered the guards to send food to the Poorhouse," Geta said, taking a sip of his wine.

You brought your glass to your lips, but the smell was unappealing, so you put it on the table, and pushed it forward with your fingers.

"I did. Or, are you angry with me for this?"

Geta laughed. "I can't possibly be angry with you. However, I believe this is an unnecessary expense."

You glared at him. "Surely it's not as unnecessary as a tiger?"

"At least the tiger entertains us, sister. What is so interesting about those people? Nothing. I have not yet informed Caracalla of this, so you'd better end it before he becomes aware of it."

You leaned towards him. "You are not fully aware of the gravity of the situation, so you speak with undue levity. Would you be willing to abandon those children to their fate?”

He exhaled loudly. He pretended not to care, but he was thinking.

"If you'd like, I can show you. Caracalla doesn't need to know. Trust me, it's a lot cheaper than what you spend on other unnecessary things.”

"No way I'm going there!"

You sighed and stood up. "You do as you wish," you said, with a hint of sarcasm. "I was just considering paying a visit there." You glanced at him, took a step forward. He stood up too, grabbing your arm from behind.

"You've only just arrived, stay a little longer." He sounded like he was begging. He was looking at you in a strange way, you averted your gaze.

"I'm a married woman, I have responsibilities. And those children are one of them." You looked at him again. "As Emperor, you have responsibilities as well. They are your people too. You could come with me and see for yourself. If you are not convinced, I will not bring it up again. I promise."

He thought for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, you win. I'm coming with you.”

He stepped towards to the entrance, but you stopped him by tugging on his arm. "Perhaps you might like to consider changing your attire?" You asked, running your eyes over his fancy toga.

"What's in my attire?" He looked down at himself.

"Well. Your bronze crown, your gold embroidered toga, your gold bracelets, necklaces, and rings, need I say more?’

"Or do you want me to dress like a commoner? Never!" He frowned.

You rolled your eyes at him. It was futile to try to persuade this stubborn boy. So, you gave up. "Very well, as you wish, Your Majesty.”

His frown vanished and he smirked.

As you made your way across the courtyard towards the gate, you became aware of a few murmurs and turned your head in that direction. A group of people were heading into the great hall. Their attire differed from that of the members of the Senate.

"I had completely forgotten they were coming today," he said.

'Is there an official meeting with Caracalla?'

“Our relatives,” he murmured.

You regarded him with a look of surprise. “You were correct in your assumption,” he said, observing them from a distance. “The execution of Gaius has caused some distress within the dynasty in Leptis Magna. They have come here to speak with the emperor.”

"And what about you? You are the emperor as well."

He shrugged slightly. "It doesn't matter. I'm sure he will make a decision similar to the one I would have made."

"Which is...?"

Geta's face suddenly became serious. Without answering, he pulled you towards the gates roughly. But you clearly heard the sounds of screaming and shouting coming from the hall. You felt a shiver run down your spine.

“Did he murder them?” Your voice cracked.

He grabbed your shoulders and pushed you into the carriage. "They killed themselves at the very moment they set foot in Rome, Aurelia.”

It seemed that Decima was attempting to sit next to you, but he indicated the seat opposite. He then sat right next to you. You couldn't focus on them staring at each other, the screams still echoing in your ears, and continued to torture you all the way. All this brutality felt so wrong.

When you arrived at the Poorhouse, the children noticed you and ran towards you with huge, beaming smiles on their faces, gathering around you with cheerful laughter.

“Princess Aurelia!”

You smiled at them. They then looked curiously at your emperor brother, who was standing behind you. The guards approached Geta, looking a little wary. Geta covered his nose with his hand. With a somewhat displeased expression on his face he extended his arm towards them as if warning them.

“Don't you dare come near me!” He yelled.

“They're just children,” you muttered.

“But, they're filthy,” he grimaced.

You rolled your eyes and went over to the boy you had met earlier. It seemed that the mother and baby were doing better. You asked Decima to bring your bag and, as Medicus, you examined the woman and her breast milk, which was now coming in. Geta observed you as you treated a few wounded and sick people. He maintained his distance, of course. Since these people had only seen his face from a great distance before, their jaws were dropped open when he appeared before them in all his majesty.

The provisions have been brought as you requested. But it didn't seem to be enough to feed these people, yet they were happy and grateful.

"I should also provide some new clothes for them," you said, approaching Geta.

He folded his arms and looked them up and down. His expression had become somewhat more gentle, as though he was lost in thought. He seemed to be deeply affected by the unfortunate situation he had witnessed.

"You were right after all," he murmured. "They really do look rather poorly."

You looked at him. "Your Majesty, you have decided to extend a helping hand to these people?"

He locked eyes with you for a moment, his expression hard to decipher, but he seemed happy. Then he cleared his throat. "I would never allow them to pollute the streets of Rome." He turned to one of the guards. "Do as Princess Aurelia says. Make sure you provide what is needed here. And if you dare to speak to my brother about this, I will have your tongue cut out myself.”

The guard bowed his head. “Yes, Your Highness.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you, brother. I believe there may be some good in you after all."

He frowned. "I'm not sure if that's meant as an insult or a compliment."

“Perhaps both.” You stuck your tongue out at him and laughed. You were just trying to make him laugh and your intentions were innocent. But he wasn't laughing. In fact, he was looking at you seriously in a way you'd never seen him before.

"Don't laugh at me like that." His voice was sharper than his gaze. “As if you don't belong to someone else.”

You swallowed, his eyes looking at you with a dangerous intensity. You averted your eyes.

“My lady,” Decima came to your side. She was holding a bowl, without even turning your head, you could smell what was in it. The smell of meat was intense. You felt like your stomach was cramping.

“Hot, freshly prepared food has arrived, the children are eating. Would you like to have some too?”

Instinctively you covered your nose with your hand. "No, Decima, could you keep that bowl away from me?"

"Ah, it seems we have some things in common after all. I think it looks disgusting too." Geta said with a displeased expression. "Well, I think I've seen enough, I want to leave now." He turned towards the carriage.

He raised his hand and beckoning you to join him. As it was nearing dusk, you were keen to return home, so you nodded in agreement. However, as you began to walk towards him, your vision blurred, and your feet betrayed you, causing you to collapse on the ground. When your cheek touched the cold cobblestone, you felt a severe headache. Then everything went black. The last thing you remember was Decima and Geta's concerned voices mixed together with the voices of children.

You felt slight shaking of your body, which prompted you to wake up. Your headache was still present, opened your eyes slowly. The first thing you saw were the golden curtains glimmering by moonlight, which entered through the long window. Next to the window was an armchair with golden details. It seemed as though everything in the room had a golden hue. You realized that you had been in this room before. You were beginning to regain consciousness. You then sat up.

"Sister, I hope you are feeling a little better?"

You opened your eyes wide and looked at Geta, who was lying next to you. On the bed. His bed. You let out a scream in shock. He flinched.

"WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE?” You quickly checked yourself over. Your clothes had been took off, and you were wearing a white, almost see-through tunic that didn't just belong to you. “What happened to my clothes?” You yelled.

Geta covered his ears with his hands. “Ugh! Could you please stop screaming? You're hurting my ears!”

“What have you done to me?”

He laughed loudly and hysterically. "Apart from making you clean up and bring it to my room? What was I supposed to do? You collapsed on that awful, stinking street. Should I have let you stay in your filthy clothes? It was gross, so I had them thrown away."

The slaves must have dressed you, at least that was a relief. But you were still very angry that you had been put in this embarrassing situation. You realised that his eyes were roaming over you. You grabbed the sheet and pulled it up to your neck, covering your body.

“Get me some decent clothes now!” Your voice was slightly trembling with anxiety.

Geta raised his eyebrows, he pointed his index finger at himself. “Did you actually say that to me? You have no manners at all. You don't know how to talk to an emperor.” He teased.

You moaned in response, placed your head in your hands and rested on your knees.

“Please, call Decima over here.”

"I want to know why you fainted. Tell me, are you sick?"

He touched your shoulder, you pulled yourself back and got out of bed. It is almost nighttime now. The mere thought of Marcus coming to Domus Severiana and seeing you like this made you shiver.

"Girl!" Geta yelled towards the door.

Decima and Geta's slave entered the room together, both looking at you with concern.

"Make sure you dress the princess properly. Otherwise she'll be torturing my ears with her squeaky voice all night." He said, squinting at you.

You ignored him. When the girl left the room to bring you a stola, Decima came over and held your hands.

"Are you alright? You frightened me.”

"I'm fine, but we should return to the villa now."

‘"Indeed, you've been unconscious for a while, it's almost midnight."

"Midnight?" You bit your lip.

Now that was something to worry about. You were sure Marcus would be here soon. Luckily the slave girl came with a stola and began to dress you. You heard footsteps and then a knock on the door.

Geta was still sitting on the bed, wine in his hand. With his permission, a slave boy who came in looked scared. “Your Highness, my lady. General Acacius-“

“Aurelia!”

Marcus's booming voice made you feel like you were on the verge of fainting again.

Geta grinned. "This is going to be fun."

You warned him as he was leaving the room. "Please don't say anything ridiculous to him.”

He shrugged. With your heart beating like it was going to burst out of your chest, you urged the girls to hurry up. Geta left the room. You tensed up even more when you heard him calling his name. Finally, the girls finished dressing you as quickly as they could, and you left the room, heading for the stairs with Decima who was trying to catch up with you. As you descended the stairs, you saw him and locked eyes with Marcus. He observed you with a keen gaze. You bit your bottom lip. He then looked at the stairs that belonged to Geta's chamber, then at Geta himself. Suddenly he grabbed Geta's collar with his fists, causing everyone to become tense.

"Have you gone mad Acacius? What do you think you're doing?” Geta barked.

“Marcus!” You ran towards them.

The guards drew their swords.

“What have you done to my wife?” He roared.

“Get your hands off me now!” Geta warned.

“Marcus, please, it's not what you think.” You grabbed his big hands and tried to pull them away from your brother's collar, but it was like moving a marble statue.

“You don't seem to be taking good care of your wife like you promised.”

Marcus tightened his grip and shook him angrily. “What are you saying?”

The guards approached the two of them, their swords pointed at Marcus.

“General Acacius, I warn you.” One of the guards said.

Marcus ignored him, his dark eyes locked on Geta’s.

“Your wife fainted in the middle of the street. I wonder if you were aware that she's been sick.’’

Marcus then withdrew his hands, released him. You exhaled in relief. Geta ordered the guards to put their swords away.

Marcus stepped towards you. "Is that true?" He sounded concerned, touching your face with his hands.

You grasped his hand. "I felt unwell for a moment, but I'm fine now."

Marcus observed your face a little more. Then put his arm around you and glared at Geta. "We shall take our leave now."

Geta shouted behind you two. "You're not even going to ask for my forgiveness, Acacius?"

Marcus answered without looking at him. "With all my heart, no."

You turned your head and looked over your shoulder at Geta. He looked angry and annoyed. You gave him a faint smile.

"Your Highness, shall we stop him?" One of the guards gripped his sword once more.

"Just give us the order, Your Highness."

"Shut the hell up! Leave me alone, all of you! Get out of my sight!" He shouted at them and walked towards his chamber. Caracalla watched the whole thing from a distance, he was looking at his brother coming up.

"You're so pathetic." Caracalla chastised.

"Don't you start!" Geta barked at him, walked towards his room, and slammed the door.

It was well after midnight by the time you arrived back at the villa. Marcus still seemed a little tense, which made you wonder what he was thinking. He was looking at your ankle as you walked to your room. He stopped in front of the door.

“I do not see your knife.”

You looked at him, you had no clue.

“Here, sir,” Decima said. She came up the stairs and stood beside you. She was holding your scabbard in her hand. She handed it to you. “After you fainted-“ She avoided Marcus's stern gaze, turning her eyes to you. “I'm the one who dressed you so I kept this.”

“Thank you, Decima.”

She smiled. “If you'll excuse me, sir, my lady,” she bowed and turned to head for the stairs.

Marcus closed the door behind you. He placed his hands on your shoulders and guided you to sit on the bed, then sat down next to you.

"My love. Are you sure you're feeling well?" His hands touching all over your face.

How can I possibly feel bad when you touch me like this? You thought.

"I suppose I do not need to bring a Medicus for you?” He smirked. “So, what is your diagnosis, lady medicus?”

You smiled. “Hmm, I think I became a little nervous when I-“ You swallowed.

“Continue, please.”

"Caracalla. He had our relatives from Leptis Magna killed. I didn't see them, but I heard them…”

Marcus frowned, clenched his hand into a fist and pressed it to his forehead. He then closed his eyes. “That scum. He must be out of his mind for sure.”

You put your hand on his shoulder. "How do you mean?”

He then stood up. You went over him, untying the strings of his armour.

"Macrinus. He has a majority in the Senate. He managed to eliminate Gaius and his supporters. Caracalla is his instrument. It is likely that he will announce him Commander of the Praetorian (Imperial) Guards imminently. I should have killed him last night." He banged his fist on his desk, almost startling you.

You took a deep breath. “Then why did he go to Libya?” You helped him take off his armour.

"I believe there is a possibility that he is raising his own army. I haven't heard from the legions in that area for some time now."

"His own army?" You shocked. You hadn't realised how serious things were.

"If my suspicions are correct, yes. He also would want to incorporate the southern legions into his own as well."

"Your legions?"

“I'm afraid so.” He turned his head towards you. "I may have to go there soon."

You cringed and your chest hurt. You weren't expecting this at all.

Marcus realised the look on your face and put his arms around you. "I'll have to kill him sooner or later. And them too." His voice was sharp.

Surely you were aware of whom he was referring to.

“I will not waste another generation of young men on their arrogance and vanity. I will not allow Macrinus to use your brothers' trust and start a civil war that will harm Rome.”

“Caracalla, yes, but maybe Geta-“ the words seemed to stick in your throat.

"Are you defending him to me?"

"Absolutely not." You shook your head. "I was just thinking he might make a good emperor.”

"Please Aurelia. I assume you're not meant seriously.”

"He's not like Caracalla. I believe you are aware of that. I don't think you are truly inclined to kill him."

"I was considering it. When I saw you coming out of his chamber..." He pursed his lips, trying to be calm.

You tensed as you remembered that moment. "I'm truly sorry about that." You bowed your head. Marcus placed his hand under your chin and gently lifted your face to look at your eyes.

"He didn't touch you, did he?" His brown eyes were almost black.

"No, Marcus. Of course not."

He grabbed your face in his big hands, pulled you towards him, you stumbled with the sudden rush of his. "I am the only one who can touch you. You are my Aurelia. Mine."

"I am indeed, Marcus.”

"Say it," he demanded. "Say that you're mine. I want to hear it from your lips."

"I am yours." You said softly.

He smirked and bent his head, kissing you roughly almost forcefully. His skillful hands were not gentle while undressing you in a hurry. When you were completely naked, he scooped you up and put you on the bed. In the blink of an eye he was on top of you and then inside you. While he’s having you roughly, his lips, his tongue, his teeth travelled over every possible part of your flesh. Marking you. As if physically claiming you. Making you his.

The sun had just risen when you opened your eyes. But it wasn't its light that woke you. It was the sudden pain in your stomach and the feeling like you'd been punched. You gasped and covered your mouth with your hand, attempting to suppress the urge to vomit. You hurried out of Marcus' arms and ran to the latrina. He was roused from his slumber by the sound of the door closing with a resounding bang.

“Aurelia?”

You were too distracted by feeling unwell to focus on his concerned voice. You splashed water on your face to feel better after violently throwing up. Suddenly you felt Marcus's hands on your shoulders. “My love?”

Your stomach was still causing you pain and you found it difficult to speak. Also, your head was spinning, so you took a moment to lean against the wall. Marcus quickly took you into his arms and carried you to the bed, sitting next to you.

“My lady, I'm really starting to worry now.”

“No, please don't. If I get some rest, I'll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” He took your hand in his hands.

You nodded and smiled at him. But his face showed concern.

“Perhaps I could stay here with you today.”

Just then, there was a knock on the door and Cato came in with Marcus's permission. He gave you both a nod. “Sir, I am here to inform you that the soldiers you have been expecting from the south have entered the city at dawn. The Legates have requested an immediate assembly.”

"Is that so? At last, some good news." He said, then looked at you with uncertain eyes.

You smiled at him and touched his hand with yours. "Please do not concern yourself with my well-being. Just leave. It must be important."

He leaned towards you and kissed you on the forehead. "Have a good rest, my love. And please be well." He kissed your hand before leaving the room with Cato.

After a while there was a knock on the door again. Decima brought breakfast for you.

"My lady, are you feeling better?"

"I believe so."

She approached your bedside. "Would you like me to feed you?”

You laughed. “Dear, please. Hopefully I'm not in a situation that requires me to be fed." You got out of bed and walked towards to the chair. You weren't exactly starving, but you knew you needed to eat to feel strong. You asked Decima to join you.

"My lady, well I am. I've been thinking it over.”

“Hmm?”

"This nausea you're feeling, the headaches. I wonder if...’ When she looked at you suggestively, you swallowed and looked at her, taken aback.

You'd never thought of that. As a medicus, you were confident that you didn't have any other underlying health issues. On top of that, it had been a few weeks since the wedding and you hadn't had any monthly bleeding since then.

"Gods," you murmured. "Could it really be?”

Decima took your hands, seemed excited. "I think so. Have you ever examined a woman carrying a child?"

"No, I've only assisted women in labour. I know how to run a consultation though. But it's still too early to be certain."

Decima smiled widely. "I hope you're with child."

You couldn't help smiling back. "I hope that too. But we should keep this between us for now."

"Indeed, of course.”

“Domina!” came a voice from behind the door.

“Come in.”

The slave boy from yesterday came in, his face was worried again.

“Am I being summoned again? Please tell them I'm sick and having rest.”

"You're not being summoned, my lady.”

“What's the matter, then?”

He bowed his head, as if he didn't know what to say.

“Tell me.” You demanded.

“If you can come down, you'd better see for yourself.”

You exchanged glances with Decima, then got up and left the room. As you were making your way down the stairs, you almost lost your footing when you saw the person standing in the courtyard.

“Lady Domna?”

Julia was waiting by the fountain in a black cloak. She looked a bit worried and uneasy.

"May I ask what you're doing here?"

"We need to talk." She said in a commanding tone.

You suddenly felt tense as you remembered your last conversation with her. What the hell was she doing here?

'Do you usually keep your guests waiting without offering them a seat?'

You rolled your eyes and gestured to the armchair nearby. “Have a seat.”

She sat down in a rather arrogant manner. “Leave us,” she told your slaves. But they were looking at you. Julia was annoyed.

You sat opposite her. “Leave us alone please," you said the slaves with a smile. They then bowed their heads and left the courtyard. Decima too, she nodded.

"Your slaves don't know how to behave." She muttered.

"Could you please tell me why are you here? I thought you were in Syria?"

"I've recently returned. Never mind that. I need you to help me with something."

"My help? Why should I help you?"

"Because I believe you would want to.”

You crossed your arms. "What are you talking about? Speak clearly, please."

Julia sighed. Then leaned closer to you with a sharp gaze, whispering. "I need you to help me kill Caracalla.”

your reblogs, comments, likes are soo important to me so please if you enjoyed, support me thank you..

@myownwholewildworld @orcasoul @pedroslut4eva @immyowndefender @lailathepedritofan @screechingchildfury @shinymusicpanda @somedayheaven @ivoryandflame @negrita2345 @music-lover09 @javiismyhsbnd @idontcareihavenoidea @jisungandpedrolover @mmkkzz @ro-nahime-things @indiegirlunited @kluvspedro @movievillainess721 @berriesarepunk @bonadeamo @heramj

if anyone wants me to tag them please comment or msg me :)

480 notes · View notes