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shoyudon · 3 months

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dad!choso is on my mind. he’d be the sweetest husband/father to-be. i just know he’d hold our hand the entire time and say things like “i wish i could take this pain away from you.”

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐀'𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘 .ᐟ

keeping up with the choso family

starring. choso x fem! reader

heads up. pregnancy, giving birth, you're in you're 20s during shibuya (around nanami's age), all information are from research.

note. NONNIE, FIRST OF ALL YES. I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS??? i just know he'd cry during every one of these moments, i'm gonna sob, i miss him so much.

the first time choso met you, he didn't know you'd be his life companion. pushing aside at the fact that you both were enemies at first, being a jujutsu sorcerer assigned to shibuya wasn't really the best circumstances for first meetings — which practically didn't happen smoothly.

long story short, he actually hurts you with his blood manipulation. not enough to kill you, but enough to consider it a 'medical emergency'. he is really sorry about it though; when he saw you protect yuuji despite your injuries, he just knew he had to have you.

choso made it clear that he regretted hurting you — especially when his technique left a scar on your skin. specifically on your shoulder, and your lower abdomen. occasionally pressing his lips onto your scars, the vivid drawings of your stitches still embedded into your skin.

"'m sorry . . ." choso whispers out into your skin, burying his face into your stomach as you both lay down on the bed. once again, he was feeling apologetic for hurting you more than a year ago. every day after shibuya, he was busy apologizing to you for hurting you.

"cho, that was what . . ? more than a year ago? you need to stop apologizing, baby," raking your fingers through his hair, he sighs out in content, leaning his cheek onto your stomach — his arms draped around your thighs.

when he asks you to marry him, he subconsciously did it because he panicked. choso had it all planned for a whole month, and managed to ruin it in three minutes on the day he was going to propose to you because you were just so captivating, he just lost all senses of everything he practiced.

"please, marry me," choso blurts out, his mind going one hundred miles per second — he wasn't even sure if he was conscious at that point, "i love you so much and i can't think of my life without you, please marry me," he whispers, squeezing your hand gently.

choso actually got help from everyone on what to say and what to do, which all went down to drain when he decided to use his heart to propose to you. and it worked out well anyways, "seriously? i'm gonna cry," you fanned your eyes.

believe me when i said that choso was on the edge of his seat, waiting for your answer. when you exclaimed out a happy and tearful, "yes!", he could finally breathe out in relief, raising your hand up to his lips in happiness, slipping the ring he even forgot for a second.

choso actually told himself that he wouldn't cry during his own wedding. months before the reception — he finds himself watching wedding videos and happily kicking his feet at the sight of the groom crying, he believed he wouldn't, because he's seen you everyday. right? right?

wrong. the moment the tall doors opened and there you started walking down the aisle slowly, choso felt overwhelmed at the fact that he was getting married to you, and you were getting married to him. he swore if it wasn't for yuuji, he would be laying down in front of the whole guest list, crying on the ground.

he stood there, instinctively wiping his tears — that were never-ending, and god, you looked so beautiful that all he could see was you. choso felt like it was just you and him at that moment, no guest, no yuuji, just you.

after the ceremony, choso just wanted to go back home and if it weren't for you telling him to wait until everyone goes home, he'd technically kidnap his own wife and bring her back to their home. with a pout and a long face, he greets the guest with you, hand in yours like a little child who didn't get what they want.

"can we go back home now? my legs are killing me," he whispers, squeezing your hand, tugging you towards him, "jus' leave them, they're eating the night away . . ."

"let's wait until everyone goes home, okay?" you tell him. almost wanting to laugh at the sight of his fake offended gasp right after, choso didn't complain anyways — nodding his head as you tugged him towards a group of people to greet them.

when you both got home after a long day, choso immediately headed for the bedroom, tossing himself onto the bed, white shirt wrinkled and his tie messily pulled towards one side. eyelids half closed.

"cho, you know you have to shower before you sleep. you stink."

"mmm . . . wanna sleep," he moans out into the pillow, reaching his hand out to you in an attempt to bring you onto the bed, which did not work since you were too busy wiping off your makeup, "can't we just shower tomorrow? 'm so tired."

choso's never really thought about having kids. he didn't know how to take care of kids, nor how to react with kids. for some reason, the universe though — seemed to have bless him with a wave of "baby fever" one and a half year into the marriage. watching videos of random babies from all over the world doing baby things, and he felt his heart flutter at the sight.

that was when he knew, he wanted a family with you. technically, the two of you were already a family the moment you both got married — but he wanted an addition to your small family. a child.

he didn't really know how to break the fact that he wanted a baby with you, and so he tried subtle ways to do so. showing you baby videos, telling you how cute your kids would be, even pointing at baby shoes or onesies when you both go out.

by that point, you'd caught on to his little scheme, "why're you talking about kids a lot? baby shoes, baby onesies, baby videos, baby this, baby that," you informed him, threading your fingers through his hair as he laid his head on your lap.

"wan' a baby."

so when you broke the news that you were bearing his child, he cried. and by cry — i mean bawled out like a baby. clinging to you, overwhelmed at the fact that he was going to have a child with you, he was actually going to have a little family of his own.

just a few days after the news, he'd grown a lot more protective of your wellbeing. asking here and there about what you could and couldn't eat, or what might harm the growing baby inside you. searching here and there.

during your first trimester, more precisely, during your fifth week; the cravings began getting heavy and wonky. despite all that, choso still indulged in your cravings. hell, he even had to try some because he couldn't say no to you when you tried to share with him.

peanut butter and salmon sashimi, pickle juice with honey, cream cheese and fried chicken, ramen soup popsicles, bacon and toothpaste, milk and ramen seasoning, and more of those odd combinations. choso never did complain even once, if you wanted to eat something at three am, he'd run out and go find some no matter what — you were carrying his child, and he figured that was the least he could do for you.

"taste good, baby?" choso asks you, swiping his fingertips over the cream cheese spread on the corner of your lips.

nodding vigorously, you brought the half-eaten fried chicken messily dipped in the thick and white cream cheese spread — eyes shining brightly, as if asking him to try some with you. blinking in surprise, he took a bite. definitely a weird experience for him, and it was one of the oddest combination of food he had ever tried.

"'ts funny, but it's not bad," he swallowed after chewing the chicken a few times; reaching for the glass of water by the nightstand.

throughout your pregnancy, choso made sure to spoil you with a lot of things. the doll you looked at for a split second while the both of you ventured into the mall, the food he sees you browsing through his phone or your phone, tucking you in bed using the pillow he bought for pregnant women, and the feet massages for you everyday.

"where are you going?" choso asks, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. the dark spots under his eyes were getting darker every time — it was obvious the changes in his life had made it, but choso was more than enlightened to do it for you.

"want to drink," you whisper, letting out a cute incoherent noise as you tried to roll off the mattress.

choso was quick to hold you back, tucking you inside the bundle of covers, "i'll get it for you, stay here, okay?" he whispers, hopping off the bed to fetch you a glass of water — choso didn't want to keep you waiting, running off to the kitchen and fetching you a glass of water topped with a lot of ice cubes; something he noticed you'd chew on a lot ever since you got pregnant.

"here you go," he walks back carefully, handing you the water, pinching the skin on your nap gently as he watches you gobble the water down, parting your lips to pop in an ice cube or two.

nearing your due date, specifically just a few days after the 37th week — the contractions started. it was the ninth month, and it was expected. choso heard your hushed whimpers in his sleep, he would probably guess it was at dawn, probably around four? he didn't even bother checking on the time because all he cared was you.

he was barely awake, kicking off the covers and helping you. ushering you to slowly breathe in and out, his hand rubbing soothing circles on the hollow of your back. choso figured that he wanted you and the unborn child to be safe, and so he decided to bring you to the hospital where the experts are.

choso was worried beyond anyone else; even you. constantly staying by your side, his hair disheveled; a few strands going the opposite way, and tangled with each other. he laid his head down on the mattress, by your hand. choso laid his hand on your belly, rubbing against the cloth gently to ease the pain from the contractions.

at the early stage of labor, you were feeling cramps and an intense backache — which choso helped you through. he was glad he brought you to the hospital because not long after, your water broke. and he was there to help you through it all, clutching onto your hand as if he was holding on for dear life.

everything that the doctors or the nurses do, he felt his heart beat a notch quicker than earlier. choso was afraid, and he wasn't really afraid to admit it — i mean, you're his wife and you were carrying his child. he didn't want anything to happen to the both of you.

choso heard the doctor explain to him about what was going to happen, but everything that came in from his left ear exits through his right. he could barely remember anything because through out the explanation, he was too busy caring for you throughout the contractions that had grew a bit more intense during your active labor.

he hated everything inside the delivery room. it smelt like blood — choso was used to blood. but he didn't like it when it came from you, his heart drumming against his chest as he felt your grip tightened on his hand. frankly, he could care less if he broke a few bones as long as you and the baby were both okay.

choso hated seeing you in pain, even while delivering his baby. he didn't blame the baby, of course; he just wishes he could do something and take away the pain from you, latching his lips onto your sweat painted forehead. salty. he could taste your sweat against his lips, and despite that, he still refused to move.

"wish i could jus' take away the pain away from you, y/n," he whispers — hearing your pained grunt, your eyes glazed with fresh tears. and he kissed them away, whispering sweet nothings into your ears.

telling you it was just a bit more until you could see your baby, how proud he is of you, how much he loves you, how much he wished he could take away your pain, everything he felt in his heart at that moment all poured out into hushed whispers.

when the first cry of your baby echoed inside the rowdy delivery room, choso cried. he looked down at you, cradling your face in his hands, singing out, "good job, good job. 'm so proud of you, i love you so much."

the baby's a beautiful baby boy.

choso didn't want to hold the baby first as much as he wanted to — he felt like you deserved to touch the baby first after risking your life to birth him. and so he told the nurse to let you at least see the baby first, he refused to carry his son until you, his wife, touched him first; whether using your hands or any part of your body.

he stared in awe when the baby's loud cry eventually stopped when the nurse brought him to you, letting you coo at your own newborn son. his tears freely dropping, rubbing circles onto the back of your hand.

when the nurse asked him to have skin-to-skin contact, choso was nervous. what if he dropped his son? what if his son doesn't like him? what if his son doesn't like the way his skin feels? so many out of the box questions that didn't need to be answered were roaming in his mind.

as he slowly cradled his son, he blinked back the second round of tears that had threatened to fall. the light blue beanie stuck to his son's head seeped with a few drops of tears, leaning down to press his lips onto the baby's skin a few times. introducing himself as the baby's father and how happy he is to be one,

daichi l/n. that's the baby's name — it meant great first son. the both of you felt that it was a suitable name for your first baby.

choso slept on the small couch inside the hospital room during your healing week, in the middle of both you and him was daichi's small basinet where he slept soundly. he made sure to knock himself awake every now and then to check after both you and daichi.

when the hospital permitted you to go home, you completely relied on choso on heavy things — which you didn't even have to ask, he was already doing it for you. daichi gets a bit fussy at night, and choso always tells you to go back to sleep and that he'd handle the baby.

"you know, you're really noisy, right? mama's really worried about you," he gently poked the baby's cheek with his thumb as he cradled the small bundle of life affectionately, singing out a lullaby he remembered you singing to him years ago.

choso never knew he had a knack on changing diapers until you were occupied, and he had to change daichi's diaper. turns out he was really good at it, and from that day on — he's also told you that he got it. your body was still sore from delivery, and so everything around the house was mostly done by choso under your watch.

although choso's been the one taking care of daichi, he could definitely see how much the baby's turning out to be a big mama's boy even at a few months old. he noticed how daichi would only let you burp him, or sometimes daichi would get fussy when he felt choso raising him up during early mornings until you had to do it.

he didn't care. he wasn't jealous, daichi's still his son and he was glad that daichi loved you a little more than him. he'd like it if his baby prioritizes you first before him.

being a father is a great wonder to him. daichi's first word being 'mama', and his first steps was done while he was sauntering clumsily towards you. choso is such a proud father.

growing up, daichi turned out to be a big mama's boy. but still he loved choso too. now daichi lets choso carries him during mornings, and he relies on choso when something scares him while clutching onto your hand, taking small steps to hide behind choso. using his own father as a shield for him and you.

"don't worry, baby. 's just a lion in the screen, dada will protect us," you scooped the boy into your arms, pointing at the screen where a lion and its cub are walking.

"mmm. dada will protect you both," choso chimes in, ruffling daichi's thin hair.

daichi grew up loving boxing. you didn't know how he knows about it, but at the very next second, he was pestering choso to teach him boxing. and choso dreaded this because what was his son going to do at four years of age in pre-school with boxing? was he going to use it on his teachers? or his friends?

"no . . . maybe when you're older," choso's always said that, patting daichi's head as he does.

daichi whined every single time, but managed to forget when he saw some people drawing on TV. choso once again being a victim of his own son's pleading for some drawing lessons. as a father, choso of course accompanied daichi during his draw sessions in the living room right after the kid comes back from pre-school.

sometimes choso would draw too, having a little competition with his own son. which daichi mostly won — but at the same time, choso never complained about his loss. he was always proud of daichi.

"look, look mama! this is you, this is daichi, and this is dada!" daichi announces, pointing at every aspect of his drawing, explaining to you.

and to the fridge the drawing goes.

when daichi graduated pre-school, choso again, cried. taking pictures using the camera he had asked you to teach him how beforehand, and the pictures weren't the nicest. most of them being a blur of daichi walking down the stage with his small cap, waving his little hand to the camera.

choso was so proud of his son, of you, of himself. looking back— he's realized how far he had come despite not having to expect all of this. a loving wife. a son. a family.

choso was just glad he had his own little family now with you and his son. although . . . he wouldn't mind having another addition to the small community.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #choso #choso x reader #choso x female reader #choso x y/n #choso fluff #choso kamo #choso kamo fluff

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musedblues · 2 months

Text

AMORE ~ FATI (part 1)

a/n: wait until the movie? nah. haven't stopped thinking about this freaky fucker since the trailer dropped! eat up, babes. also the horny police called and there is a warrant out for my arrest.

description: after winding up in a crime related to the royals, geta strikes up a deal with you.

warnings: down right hoe shit, sexual descriptions, gruesome descriptions, minimal historical research/ distant memories from high school test, cliff hanger. MINORS DNI

Part 1 of 2 (at least)

///

The afternoon was like any other, the day your life changed. You awoke to an empty home, gathered your cart of crafts, and headed to the stalls. You sold your paintings there and begged the clouds to cover the swelter of the sun.

For your landscape art, you accepted coin. You accepted food. You accepted a jeweled ring that afternoon, just as well. An exchange like it wasn't out of the ordinary. You pawned the adornment for cash that evening, and made the trek back home. With plans to paint pictures into the night, to sell off the next day.

Your home was quaint, once big enough for two, now only you haunted the halls. The man you'd once been forced to marry had been dead for many months now, and a certain freedom was found in his absence. But a certain monotony about your routine seemed to predetermine the days ahead as far as you could see them. So, you painted.

As you fiddled with brushes and stained your grey dress with speckles of deep amber, a bursting knock came across your door. The guest gave you no time to greet them before turning into an intruder. Two royal guards burst into your home, shouting and grabbing you and dragging you away. All so quickly.

You went fighting. You cursed as they held you in a carriage. You demanded their silence broken. But they remained stone faced as you begged to know why you'd been abducted from your home.

Your captors rode into the city, past the colosseum, right through the gates that led to the home of the reigning family. Your heart hammered in fear, knowing what you knew about the rulers. Caracalla and Geta had only just taken over the reign of their father, their mother looming near, picking sides; as you understood. Since the change in leadership, Rome hadn't suffered en mass. But a growing dread hung heavy over the population, knowing the brothers were struggling to join together in power. Knowing their clash divided not only their power, but all of Rome.

You were grabbed at once more, forced out of the carriage and into the great hall of the estate. Gold and red statues lined the entrance. A plum rug stretched before your feet, a welcoming cushion as the rest of your senses were drowned by harshness. Before you, pacing near his throne, Geta waited.

You'd seen him and his brother before, trailing behind their father at rallies. Lingering near the stands at games. You'd always let your gaze settle on Geta, if ever you'd seen him. You'd always been drawn to gawk at the trimness of his figure. The enigmatic expressions he would pull. The presence he commanded. He was easy to admire, from afar. And the towns ladies often gossiped of how alluring he could be up close, if they were lucky enough to be invited to do so. No one spoke as much of Caracalla. In his name, fear and loathing often followed.

With a glare in your direction, Geta ceased pacing. He nodded toward his guards to relinquish their hold on you.

"What is all this?" You demanded, refusing to bow or humble yourself before this ruler in anyway. How could you dare offer up respect when little to none had been offered to you? Geta seemed taken aback, for a flash. His brows furrowed and his lips parted in shock, at your boldness. But then a grin flickered across his lips and his pacing started up once more.

"You're in possession of something of mine, no?" Geta alluded. Want as you might've to argue, to proclaim your innocence, you were too baffled. What could he possibly be on about?

"You were seen taking a ring as payment today, at your stall." Geta boomed, voice filling the room, echoing off the tall painted ceilings. He started into a story, then, that made things clearer. You learned that ring was a family heirloom, stolen by a servant only one night ago. That he'd sold it to a carriage driver for freedom. You learned that servant had been slain. But the ring was still gone. And you were the last person seen with the distinct bluish jewel in your palm. There were many a shopper along the street market this morning. Several were looking into your stall as you accepted the ring for payment. You couldn't deny the action. But you didn't have it any longer, anyhow.

"I exchanged it for money. With the sellers near the river." You decidedly conceded. "I've got nothing more to do with this now release me." Your voice shook, out of fear for your fate, and anger for your circumstance.

"Names." Geta stalled his meander, a few steps away from you. His dark eyes had cast across your figure before boring right into yours. You couldn't look right at him without feeling a shiver up your spine. And you were not about to let on that Geta had this effect on you. So, you cast your gaze to the hands at his sides, and scoffed at what you saw.

"Why? Are the rings already on your fingers not good enough? You cannot be allowed to want for what you don't have, if you're in possession of more than enough already."

"What's mine is mine! No one else's." Geta yelled, keeping his eye's boring into yours. His voice shook through the halls, and fueled your rage further. Your rage for your circumstance, and for that of this nation.

"Your greed shall poison this empire." You spat at the man.

"An empire I was born to rule cannot be soured, destiny has been at work since my conception and my father's before me." Geta grinned, an all-knowing sort of smile that was meant to belittle you, you were certain. But you couldn't be made to feel so worthless.

"We are all born to die, your highness."

"Your opposition will result in bleakness if you do not answer my call for this information. Give me their names." Geta shouted, still inches from you. Geta was giving you a chance to answer. And that shocked you. You voiced your opposition only because you thought you were surely moments away from being killed, and refused to die without standing your ground. But here you still stood. Geta was letting you.

As taken aback by his patience as you were, his arrogance and demanding shouts were only deepening your desire to withhold. To stand resolute. Who were you to ruin some poor people's lives over a bit of jewelry? Your silence was deafening, each passing moment tensing at Geta's shoulders. You watched his jaw clench, you watched his eye's dance between your own. You smiled.

"Get her out of my sight." Geta hissed, waving his men to capture you once more. You rolled your eyes as they grabbed at you. "Keep her in the cellar until she starts talking. Do not, however... take drastic measures."

You shot a perplexed frown the rulers way as he shook his head in your direction. A scowl turned Geta's lips down. But as he watched you begin to growl in unwillingness to go, his smile curled to life.

"And what of you? What punishments are you allotted?" You yelled as the guards dragged you away. Geta kept his furrowed smirk pointed at you, a puzzled sparkle in his eye.

///

The cellar smelled damp as it felt, your feet squelching along the dirt paths. You'd been taken past a row of prisoners, all in various stages of wither. You closed your eyes too them, offering silent prayers for their fates in passing.

"In you go," A guard shoved you toward the back of a small cell, chuckling as he locked the barred off door. "When you're ready to talk, we just might be around to listen. Let's hope we don't forget about you all the way over in this corner."

How had you ended up here? Hours ago, you'd been at peace in your quiet cottage, paint brush in hand. Now you sat on a wooden bench, senses filled with cold. How were the gods so cruel? Why did you have to accept that stupid ring? Why didn't you admire it longer? Maybe you would've found evidence of its owner, somehow, in the royal gleam of the thing. Maybe you could have returned it with honor, the promise of your home awaiting you. But none of that was happening. Now, you were unsure of everything. But you weren't going to go down without a fight. You weren't going to rat out the innocent fellow you pawned with, for simply surviving another day of this confounding life. You weren't eager to play into the rulers demands for more, as if he didn't have enough. As if he deserved to be granted assurance when himself and his brother offered Rome none.

Hours must've passed. Guards floated by time and again, jeering at you through the bars of your cell. As they passed you by, the voices grew louder yet, giving other prisoners hell. You heard shouts and screams. You heard begging for torture to cease. You heard the stabbing of flesh and the gurgle of blood. You heard the quiet from your own cell. Why were you being spared of such treatment? Why was your confinement different from the others?

As you began to question your own sanity, and the fate the gods had in store for you, a guard was passing by your cell once more. He stopped there, jamming a key into the lock. This was it. Your turn had come. You braced to be berated as the man reached in and yanked you to stand. The guard demanded you to follow as he dragged you through the cellar the same way you'd come in.

Suddenly you were in the great hall again. The purple carpet like clouds under your step. There were servants arranging decor as if an event were to be taking place soon. Your observation of the hall was short lived as the single guard dragged you up a marble staircase. The home was vast, and full of well painted statues and portraits and windows. The sun was long gone from the sky. It had to be later than midnight. As you soaked up your surroundings and let your imagination run wild, you tried not to worry how you'd be executed. You tried to remind yourself that death waited for no one. You tried to remember the last picture you'd been painting, a field of sheep under a setting sun.

Your captor stalled before a great carved door, twisting the handle. Your captor dragged you inside.

Candles lit a room with a bed in the middle, the biggest you'd ever seen. The amber glow of the space was welcoming, despite the terror that resided about your situation. Beyond the bed was a table full of wine, bottles of all sort decorated the clothed stand. Before the table, was Geta. His slump on a stool shifted when he saw you. Moving to stand, the man dressed more scarcely than before was slow to approach you. His expression unreadable.

"Leave us." He demanded, pointing the guard to exit the room. The man's parting left chills in his wake. What was to become of you now? What was this all about?

Geta did not stay still at your front. He instead let his head roll from one side to the other as his pace turned back toward the cloth covered table. Among the bottles of wine were a scattered few chalices. He filled one with a drink. And then another.

"We caught the carriage driver who initially accepted the ring." Geta announced, back toward you all the while. You admired the tone of his shoulders, as one was left uncovered by his robe. The cloth stayed tied among his waist. "We also captured the man you pawned the ring off to. We have the ring." Geta continued, bringing both cups of wine over to where you stood. Ah, so poison was to be your execution?

Accepting the chalice in a fist, you stayed silent all the while. Geta locked his tired gaze on yours and kept talking.

"The ring was my fathers. Something he left just to me. Caracalla was given finery as well, just for himself. We do not do well with equity, my brother and I." Geta raised his wine for a sip and kept his dark gaze locked on your own. His eye's were red from lack of sleep, it seemed. His eyes were bright, all the while, as they peered into yours. This leader had a way of drawing you in. This leader had a way of making you forget you were probably on the verge of slaughter or worse.

"And while this mission to hunt down the ring has been my mission alone, Caracalla's wrath has still been promoted since he learned something of our fathers had gone missing." Geta explained.

"What's become of the carriage driver and the man I sold your ring to?" You dared to wonder.

"The servant was killed as you know, by Caracalla's own sword. The driver has been exiled at my command." Geta said. "But the man you sold it too was killed as well, by my brother's guards. Before I could get to him. You see my wrath is often equal to Caracalla's. But my bloodlust isn't as insatiable. And I can see his way of violence has stirred fear among our people. Would you agree?"

You had to nod.

"I do not wish death upon you. Blood should only be shed in battles and in honor. You were a simple moving part. You should not deserve to be killed in the crossfire. But you should pay for stumbling where you dared not have stepped. Otherwise, Caracalla will catch wind that I let you slip away without a punishment. And he will do worse."

"So, what is my fate?" You wondered, clutching the wine in your fist, unmoving. Mind whirring. Had you really been shown a backhanded kindness by the ruler you'd always believed to be more unyielding? His already alluring nature becoming more attractive as you understood this to be true.

"Exile seems drastic, yes. But it's an option." Geta raised his glass to gesture, moving to pace before a cushioned chaise. This room, his room, wanted for nothing. There was space and comfort and treasure promised throughout its expanses.

"Then there could be a fine. You'd be meant to pay every fortnight." Geta reasoned drinking once more. Still not entirely trusting of your own wine, you rested the chalice on a nearby chest, crossing your arms with a scowl. As if this Empire needed more money.

"I'm too poor to keep that up." You spat, expressing displeasure in your tone. Geta raised a brow and frowned when he realized your implication, how much work needed to be done for the betterment of the population. With a sigh, Geta cast his gaze about the room. When his pace turned naturally closer to you, his eye's locked on your face as a realization dawned across his. Geta let a smirk hint at his lips as his dark eyes glanced into yours.

"There is... another way..." Geta implied something you didn't see coming. As the man continued his languid back and forth, his gaze stayed ever fixed on your figure. And you hadn't really been ashamed of the glances you'd stolen of his, this day. He was drawing closer, as if to entice you. He didn't need to know that it wouldn't have taken much seduction. He didn't need to know that you'd already been wondering what it would be like to untie the robe at his waist.

Geta didn't need to know that you were becoming less wrought with terror by the second. You'd hoped he'd never known you were afraid, before. But now, in the flickering candlelight of his lavish room, you saw him. The persona Geta had put on all these years, all this time, was just that. You could see plain as day. Geta was full of anger, yes. But he seemed full of so much more, to you, now, too. The man seemed to hold a brewing mixture of depth about him that felt so obvious all of a sudden. Now, more endeared to the ruler, and just as attracted, you made up your mind.

"Seeing as I have no funds... let's just get this over with." You sighed, feigning impatience for the wrong reasons.

Geta circled you, eyeing you up. You wanted to melt under how hot his gaze was. But right now this was all happening far too slowly. Your interest had skyrocketed. But your time had also been heavily wasted here. You had plans, after all. He'd held you captive long enough.

"Sit down. I'm tired of waiting." You barked at him, shoving his shoulder so he collapsed into the chaise. Geta fell seated at your order but looked up to you with an irate sneer. An anger passed over his expression but morphed into curiosity in a blink.

"Seeing as to how I'm getting what I want out of you, I don't mind giving into your demands." Geta announced, as if to remind you he was the one calling the shots. You couldn't help but grin, struggling not to roll your eyes at the man's obsession with power. Humming so he knew you heard him, you settled either knee at Geta's sides.

As the ruler's fingers reached to grab at your hips, your day flashed before your imagination. Funny how life worked. How days could be spent so monotonously for so long only to become upturned and scattered about the next. You never imagined you'd find yourself straddling one of Rome's emperors over a payment for your latest painting.

Geta's kiss surprised you. Not the fact that it was bruising, and harsh. But the fact that it was. You assumed this would go quickly, without much effort put into anything besides a quick and vulgar shagging. Granted, his lips didn't press into yours longer than a couple minutes, before his teeth were digging into your neck. But the way his hands wandered to grab at your limbs and claw at your skin was a welcomed affection you had not expected.

When you finally got to untie the robe around his waist, you couldn't help but admire the build of his core, the shape of his figure. You'd heard girl's oggle over the emperor before, he was no stranger to trysts of most kind. You'd heard girl's trade deadly details of their nights spent with Geta, his lust unbridled. But the sight of his body bare before yours was better than any rumor you'd caught wind of.

As you lowered yourself into Geta's lap, he was quick to rock his hips against yours with force you had been bracing for. His grip on your hips threatened to turn you over, but you'd be damned if you let him gain complete control. You rose a hand to the man's head, raking a set of fingers through his hair. Your fingers curled to grip with perhaps too much gusto, and your hips rolled to force Geta back, more fully seated.

You heard the man let out a hoarse curse as his grip lightened, as he accepted your dominance. Did this really count as payment if you were getting more out of it?

Geta pushed you away when it was all said and done, a steady hand stayed holding your side as he nudged you off of his lap. You maneuvered to stand, adjusting the skirt of your dress with a sigh.

"I suppose I should thank you for sparing my life. Surely thought you'd take it. Shame our exchange has come to an end. Didn't quite feel like a payment at all." A daring smirk painted your face as you turned to head for the door. You heard Geta lumber to stand, perhaps drunk off wine and pleasure. His feet padded as your hand reached for the handle of your escape.

"What was the painting?" Geta asked, stalling your leave and perplexing you to turn to face him. He was shrugging his robe back into place with a raised brow. "The painting bought with my ring, what was it?"

"Oh," You realized, pursing a frown. "I- I don't exactly recall. I do a lot of landscapes. Seascapes. Could've been anything like it." You noted. Geta watched you speak, mouth opened, stalled to say more. His tongue glided over the ends of his teeth as the man nodded and sauntered back toward his table full of wine.

"My guards will see to your return home." Geta called, back facing you. You took that as your leave, anxious for some rest after exhausting your mind with wonder all day, and your body with pleasure this night. As you shut the emperor's door with a soft click, a gratitude filled your chest. That could've gone a lot worse.

///

The next day seemed surreal. You recalled the night like a fevered dream, like a plot from a book. But there were scratches along your thighs that reminded you what had happened was very truly real. You recalled the feelings Geta stirred in you with warmth.

You milled from room to room, mind in constant awe of the way your life had been spared. Since the brothers had come into power, so many senseless killings had been threatened and followed through. So much violence had afflicted common criminals and the odd person out of place alike. Was it more to do with Caracalla? Was he truly the more cruel? Did Geta have a softness about him? Or had you just gotten damn lucky?

You went about your daily chores and sat down to paint. Your art displayed sheep dotting across greyish green land. Your setting sun was in progress. A breeze flowed through the window, and you imagined it in your painting as well. A knocking rattled your door. It's persistence grating your nerves. Only now, at least, no one was intruding.

Maybe that's why you were shocked more so now than before, to see two royal guards at your front door.

"Geta is demanding your audience." One of them chuckled lowly before reaching to grab at you. He was too strong to fight off, though kick and yell you did.

Oh God, he'd realized he'd let you off easy, hadn't he? You should've pretended to hate rocking against his lap in that chair. You should've begged for freedom. Or maybe it was Caracalla after all. Maybe he'd heard of your involvement with his father's stolen ring and wished you dead. And these guards were luring you in with a false promise that Geta was the one wishing for a meeting.

While your mind raced, and the carriage took off into the city and passed the colosseum, you cursed the guards for dragging you away again. For being such fowl scum of the earth to manhandle women like they did.

It wasn't long before you were being yanked from the ride and marched into the great hall with that luscious purple carpet underfoot. Geta was there, assessing a scroll with a couple of servants nearby. His shock surprised you, when his glance looked up from the papers.

As you squirmed against the holds the guards kept on you, Geta shoved the scroll he held onto, into the grasp of a servant. He drew his sword from his side, the instrument of war and horror blinding you in its brightness. The emperors stomp in your direction was quick, his footfall shaking the building and you to your core. This was it. This was your fate.

"Release her now!" Geta yelled, directing his fury to one of the guards at your side. Before the words fully formed from the man's mouth, either of the guard's grips had unlatched from your arms. You did not see that coming. You almost couldn't comprehend that his blade had missed piercing straight through you.

"You were gone for all of a few seconds before you bring her back here?" Geta quizzed, face red with anger. He held the end of his sword to the man's chin, forcing his footsteps back.

"You- you told us to go fetch the girl from last afternoon, is that not what we did your highness?" The guard was bold in asking, though his voice trembled.

"I told you to ask her to come. I told you to remain at her door in patience. And you dare drag the woman back in the matter of mere moments? With force? That's a direct disregard of my orders!" With speed that rallied a gasp from your throat, Geta whipped his sword to slash at the knees of the guard that defied him. The man let out a cry as his legs gave way, sending the fellow to collapse. Geta ordered the other guard to take the injured one to a medic and stay there until he was ready to deal with them further. His blood pooled and stained the purple carpet.

"Why am I here again?" You couldn't linger in uncertainty any longer, once again failing to greet the leader without any respect of his authority. Geta plunged his red stained sword into its sheath as he demanded his servants get out. The workers scattered at the sound of his command, scurrying toward exits. The room was filled with quiet as Geta turned to face you fully.

"I'm sorry they dragged you here. You were only meant to show up if you so wished." Geta's voice was lower, his rage subdued. He confounded you, the way he held so much darkness and contempt about him. The way he eased into constraint. These were not the stories you had heard. This was not the man described to you by retired servants and wives of soldiers. He was more withheld, before you. And it caught you by surprise time and again.

"But since you are here now, and you have not yet raised a hand to lash across my cheek, I shall tell you," Geta went on, letting his eyes do what they had done before. Letting his gaze sweep across your figure. "I asked you here to present to you a proposition. An invitation to spend more evenings like the one we shared just before."

"You cannot be serious." You let a breath of a laugh fan from your throat.

"I'm hardly ever anything but." Geta reasoned with a curled lip and a shrug of his shoulder in a way you knew was meant to get you to chuckle for real. This man continued to confound you. This man contained multitudes. How had no one else, in all their gossip, mentioned this?

"Is this more to do with payment? Did our exchange not suffice?" You reasoned, still uncertain of the terms in which Geta was asking.

"I think you know exactly how well our exchange sufficed. Well enough for me to not have stopped dreaming of doing exactly that time and time again. I'm merely asking because I wish too." Geta was so close, his breath ghosting across your cheek, his eyes searching yours. "And now you get to decide what you wish. Who am I to deny you a choice?"

"What happens should I turn to leave?" You wondered.

"A guard would take you home. And with fair treatment, I'd make certain."

"What happens should I stay?"

"A servant would take you upstairs. And your imagination could fill in the rest."

Well, this certainly wasn't how you expected your day to turn out. That painting of all the sheep and the sunset would have to wait another long day. You suddenly couldn't dream of plans outside of those featuring Rome's half reigning emperor.

With a nod toward the door you'd seen Geta's servants go through, he grinned.

With footsteps more certain of the direction of his room, you found yourself locked in there, waiting.

///

The next weeks were filled with plans you couldn't tell anyone without fear they'd think you'd gone mad. You spent days milling about the stalls to sell your landscape paintings, careful of the payments you accepted. You'd harvest the fruits from your garden for meals and wait until night fall, when your promised escort arrived.

Nights were spent in Geta's room, on his floor, against his wall, in that blessed chaise. Nights were spent shoving the emperors head into the pillows as your hips rocked together. Nights were spent demanding he speed up and slow down at your desire. Nights were spent with Geta sharing wine in between drawn-out romps. You'd drink and laugh and carry on, a couple times until the sun peaked dimly into a new day. You'd stay drinking, sharing stories about where you had come from and your hardships. Things you'd hardly spoken of before. Things you couldn't believe Geta would listen so intently to.

It started off as only a few times throughout any given week. But at the end of those nights Geta would always ask about the next. You'd offer up a day or a time and he'd promise you that he'd see to it happening. He would pour you more wine and tell you the dirtiest jokes, and ask what pleased you most before those nights ended.

But after a while, he stopped asking. And your escort showed up outside your door more nights than most. And it became a rather expected part of the schedule of either of your days.

This night as you padded across the purple carpet, following behind a servant you'd come to trust; a ruckus was sounding from the stairwell you headed toward.

There you found Geta and his brother spitting fowl words in one another's direction. The men were swarmed by guards, ready to take on any outcome of the boys spat. And while they argued about political things you weren't privy to the full details of, you understood they spoke their father's name. You heard Caracalla remind Geta that their father had decidedly upped Rome's soldiers pay to ensure their loyalties to the empire. You heard Geta shout something about how his father was dead, how the brothers needed to learn to ensure loyalties in their own manner. And then he noticed you had arrived.

"Thank God." Geta seethed, waving his brother off, taking the stairs two at a time to lower himself to greet you.

"For you, Geta, trust is easily earned, isn't it?" Caracalla shouted, still domineering about the stairs. "A bat of your lashed eyes toward any common whore and they come flooding through our halls." Caracalla cast a snarl in your direction that turned Geta's blood so hot you swore you could feel the smoke coming off him. With a decidedly quick hand, you rested your fingers to grip Geta's arm, stopping him from running up the staircase to rip his brother in two. You didn't care so much what Caracalla thought of you, so long as Geta's opinion remained unchanged.

"But my powers of persuasion are not so charming. And I must demand trust more harshly. And I must remain harsh to keep control. And I do control the half of this empire entrusted in my name!" Caracalla was seething, fists balled at his sides, eyes bulging with rage. You'd never known anyone to be fueled by such negativity. Geta had slowly started toward his brother, letting your grip remain on his arm.

"We'll reach an agreement. But not till morning. Go back to your side of the estate, now." Geta demanded, taking the staircase slowly, keeping his eyes on his brother. The younger one stood shaking with fury as the elder led you to his room. Guards and servants followed, wordlessly seeing the pair of you behind closed doors. A couple of soldiers usually waited on either end of this hall, but tonight a few more lingered near in addition. These boys really hated each other.

Once locked in his room, safe from rage and question, Geta had you pinned against the wall. He'd usually greet you. He'd usually ask about what paintings you'd sold that day, or if you'd had any great stories of your family before they sold you to a husband. Or of your husband before he died. But tonight, Geta was ravenous. Tonight, he moved more accordingly to the rumors you'd once heard about him.

The emperor didn't fuss with your clothes. He didn't give you time to unravel his either. No sooner than his hand had crept up the skirt of your dress, was he rocking his hips into yours, pounding your back against the wall.

Your nails clawed at the back of his neck and your legs curled to flex around his waist. Geta was relentless as his body hammered into yours. He huffed harder with each new pulse and let out some cursed sighs when your teeth pierced into his shoulder, to keep from screeching all the same. You knew the guards could hear from the hall. But they didn't need to hear more than they had too.

His efforts had ended, his face stayed buried in your neck. But you weren't ready for it to cease.

"You think you're finished? You're only just getting started." You barked, pawing at Geta's head and forearm, shoving him downward. He didn't hesitate, his knees cracked to the floor with force you knew had to hurt. But he didn't seem phased. Geta seemed entirely entranced on bending your knee over his shoulder. Scratching his fingers along your skin. Burying his head between your legs. And he did so consciously, like a duty being fulfilled. He was relentless tonight, and you felt lucky to be relented against.

When your pleasure had ended, and you were left to slide from the wall to find footing, you found the wine too.

"Well, I can't help solve Rome's problems," You began, pouring you each a drink. "But I hope I've just helped solve some of your own, your highness." You half mocked, but half spoke in well-meaning regard. Geta hummed somewhere behind you. His voice sounded nearby. But his hands fell to close the space between you, gripping at the hilt of your hips.

"Dunno, might need to try a couple more times." You could hear the smile in his tone, and you felt his sultry chuckle against your neck, where he nearly dared to place a kiss, but didn't. Geta only reached ahead for his chalice, and asked about your day.

///

You didn't need to sell paintings. You could've lived a basic enough life, fed from the food you grew in your garden, rested from the comfort of your own bed. Secure enough in your late spouses left over finances.

You had known married life for all of five years. Wed before you'd even turned old enough to know better. All because your parents thought it best. They said you'd been sold to a husband to take care of you, in the long run. He did care for you, in his own twisted way. He kept you fed and housed until he died. And he left all his meager earnings to you in his passing. It wasn't much, but it was enough for you, for now, for a while.

You started painting when you moved in with him, to fill the days that dragged on so endlessly. You dreamed of freedom from the man for so long. And kept painting when he died, to fill those same days that were just as endless and a lot quieter to boot. He'd left you all alone in the expanses of the great wide world, yet freedom seemed even more unobtainable to you then, somehow. So, you painted. And decidedly started selling those paintings when the house filled up without room for any more of them. You kept selling them when you realized how eagerly peers bought from you.

You'd made friends down at the stalls. You found a quaint routine there, waiting in the sun to trade paintings for coins, and chattering with townspeople while the mornings stayed young. Bakers and seamstresses and writers alike shared your routine, all becoming familiar faces you were pleased to see each day.

"Goodmorning, you!" A trio of girls your age came giggling your way. Girls you'd invited over a few times. Girls you were happy to see now.

"Listen, are you going to the games in three day's time? I'd like us all to twirl about the colosseum buzzed on vino, carefree!" The small brunette leaned across the table your art was displayed on.

"She just wants to go to wait on Geta, afterward. He always invites girls in after the games." The blonde rolled her eyes, leaning against the post of your stall as you chuckled in understanding, and out of sudden apprehension. You and Geta agreed to your trysts because he trusted how discreet you could be. When you refused to bend your will to give the names of the people you pawned his ring to, he admired that. You couldn't give yourself away, now.

"But haven't you heard?" The redhead leaned in, waving you all to listen closer. "Geta hasn't invited any of the girls that wait at the empire gates in, in weeks."

You'd often trailed in past that very line of girls in question, much to their growing displeasure. Luckily, none of them were from the side of the country you had resided. None of them could spread your name around in whispers, as they did not know it.

"I'm still eager to take my chances." The brunette joked, going on to beg you to come to the games at the colosseum.

"I don't know." Was the best answer you could give without disappointing your friends, or thinking up a messy lie on the spot.

///

Another night in Geta's room was unusually spent in his bed. You'd been used to being forced against a chest of drawers, his voice growling in your ear. Or yours demanding the emperor sit on the stool before the table of wine, and wait in agony like a good, obedient, merciful ruler.

But tonight, Geta had you moving slower in his sheets. He'd closed his eyes as your hips rocked atop his, nice and easy. And when he reached to flip you over, his core pierced languidly into yours. His hand brushed across your cheek and his eyes stayed steadily locked on yours.

"Are you feeling quite alright?" You couldn't help but worry, too overcome with the silence that fell about the room. Geta had been resting at your side, his finger tracing the same pattern against your stomach forever.

"What if you stayed, tonight?" The ruler asked, after a while.

"You didn't answer my question. You realized, still confused as to what mood you'd found Geta in tonight. You'd been often surprised by his wit and his resolution. But this wasn't a way you'd known the emperor before.

"You didn't answer mine either." He pointed, finger still dancing across the skin of your abdomen. You turned your head to find Geta's gaze. His head rested on a pillow at your side, his eyes rolling up to lock with yours. His dark brown stare was illuminating. His curls graced his head so delicately. His silence was so reticent this night. Maybe it was the fact neither of you had had any wine.

"I'll stay if you tell me what's going on in that head of yours." You shot a pointed look to the man at your side who let a lifeless smile flash across his lips as his eyes turned away from yours. Silence filled the room once more, but you got the sense that Geta was choosing his words a while.

"Nothing... none of this is how I thought it would be." Geta spoke. You kept your eyes cast across his amber lit room, fixating on the pattern of the wallpaper. What did he mean?

"What's this?" You quizzed. "Ruling an empire? Sleeping with me? Sobriety from wine for a night?" You tried to joke, desperate for some kind of clarity.

"None of it." Geta responded, his inflection implying everything you listed was weighing on his mind then. And that surprised you. He was always surprising you. Silence settled yet again, and stayed for a while. It was Geta who broke it, after so long. He sat up to meet your eye, searching your gaze before offering a nod. You nodded back, knowing that meant your promise to stay here had been sealed. He rose from the bed to dim the candles, and crashed back into it with a sigh.

When Geta rested his head of golden curls on your chest, in the dark and quiet of his room, you finally understood what he meant. This was all very different now, than it started. None of it had turned out in an expected way. But you felt at ease with it all. You hadn't shared a bed with anyone since your late husband, and those times simply did not count in your mind. You did not care for that man as you had come to care for the one laying against you now. And that dawned on you in fear. But then, a realization that it didn't matter. Not now. Now, you got to rest under the weight of the emperor, for one peaceful night.

///

The next morning was bright and felt early in your bones. And it wasn't long before it hit you, the games were meant to happen today. Geta's stirring at your side was a relished wonder, as his smile widened to see you upon waking. But it all came crashing down as servants and soldiers demanded quick work of getting up and ready for the day of events.

"It will be too hard to send you away now, with all the crowds starting to gather." Geta realized, peering from the window of his room to the public below. "I'll have some appropriate attire sent for you. You shall join us today." The emperor's smile was bitten back, but you saw it reached his eyes as his looked into yours.

Things were shifting with Geta. Night's were turning into days with him. Festivities were offered to be shared. You knew better than to ask. You knew better than to wonder why. You simply thanked him for his offer and waited for clothes to change into as the leader headed out of his room, yelling for a guard to hurry along and follow. You milled about Geta's room, admiring the wallpaper in the daylight. Admiring the stained glass of his window. You traced your finger along carved chests and bed posts. You dared to open a drawer, finding a collection of jewelry there, a familiar blue stoned ring at the front of the collection.

You snapped the drawer shut in a hurry when a knock came across the door.

"Hello." A familiar face entered. Julia, the Emperors mother, twirled in the room with a stack of garments. "These are mine from seasons past. I brought a few, just in case." The woman was dear, with soft curls that matched her sons, gold earrings that brightened her blue eyes. She smiled and introduced herself as if she needed too. For her, you bowed.

"Such a pretty thing, you are." Julia cooed, resting her clothes at the foot of the emperor's bed before turning to consider you. "I've seen you come and go. Quite the feat to boast over. Geta never struggled to make friends, not like Caracalla. But he has failed to keep so many of them."

Julia kept a studying gaze on you as you thanked her for her kindness and watched her saunter out the door. The woman told you to meet the family downstairs once you readied yourself. That's when a certain anxiety settled in the pit of your stomach. What was this? What had you gotten yourself into? Worry plagued your mind as you squeezed into a bright blue and plum skirt. The fabric hugged at your figure but fell so elegantly to the floor. You never dreamed of such finery adorning you. You'd never dreamed of a life so different from the one you'd been used to living.

Downstairs, everyone had gathered, gearing up to head out. Guards of every kind kept the ruling brothers on either side of the room while Julia flitted about, laughing with a man you didn't know. Senators and councilors seemed to mingle with the family just as well, their wives and children patiently lingering on the outskirts of the gathering.

When Julia found you descending the stairs her first greeting after a smile was to tell you how perfectly the dress fit, how powerful you seemed entering the room. She said you held a certain presence about you, keeping a watchful eye on your expression as you gushed to thank her for such continued kindness.

And then you were off, trailing with the wives and the children of the party as the royal family presented themselves before the public. They were loved and hated so that the cheers and boo's from the crowd muddled together in an indistinguishable roar. Your heart pounded to realize how close you were to the action of the day, to realize how viscerally the opinion of the public mattered to the fate of the royals.

You watched Caracalla pull some face, pointing a finger at a citizen who cursed his name on the families walk toward the colosseum. You watched women line themselves along the path Geta walked, his politics be damned. You watched as he turned to look back, smile stretching wider as his eyes found yours. You watched then, as Julia stalled to join your side, and failed to calm the quickening of your heart as she held your arm to walk with you. None of this was how it used to be.

The woman leaned in, explaining exactly how today's games were meant to go. She yammered about the history of it all and pulled a few giggles from your throat as she threw in some personal deadly details about old games she'd bore witness too.

Once you'd all reached the colosseum, the brothers were ushered off to find their royal box, while Julia strategically placed you just outside of there. She frowned when she reminded you could not be allowed to join them further than here, but smiled when she hoped you'd enjoy the day's events. You watched her saunter off, stopping a guard and pointing in your direction before she disappeared in the box all the while. The guard locked his gaze with yours, offering a respectful nod as you considered your surroundings.

All kinds of vendors and stalls were open around every entrance of the arena. All kinds of people wandered about, sampling food and drink, playing cards at tables until the event's kicked off. You decidedly began to wander about, accepting free samples and smiling to people you'd seen in passing. You shielded your eyes from the sun and noticed that guard trailing nearby, keeping a steady eye on your every move.

When the crowds began to clamor toward the inside of the arena, you realized the games were about to begin. You downed a free sample of wine and found your way to watch from afar. Caracalla and Geta were announced in, and greeted with that same muddled roar of praise and disregard. You watched as Geta ate up the attention. You watched as Caracalla fought against it, spitting and arguing with some poor guard in the box. There was something so volatile in the air, as if one wrong move from either of the emperors would unleash havoc. The public was only one excitable realization away from realizing their joined forces could rip the royals from limb to limb. Geta was quick to shift focus to the games, demanding the publics energy be reserved for the battles that were begun, turning the spotlight away from himself. It was a tactical move, but you worried if he and his brother did not change the course of their political actions soon, no amount of pantomime could save them.

Another few swallows of wine helped ease your nerves, all the while. You'd forgotten how on edge the public had only just seemed. You'd been entranced by Geta's presence even from so many miles away. His distraction's had worked wonders on the crowd, his excitable reactions to the winners and losers kept the arena entertained for the better, for now. He kept you entertained all the while. When he would tear his gaze from the games every once and a while, you liked to imagine he was looking for wherever you might've been.

When you wandered off to find more wine, the guard that had been following you stayed back, glued to the battle that was happening. You returned with two cups, to share. The guard tried to deny your kindness but caved with a smile at your insistence to have at least one drink. It was a day of festivities after all.

"We thought you weren't going to make it!" A voice familiar echoed over your ear. Turning from the view of the battle, you found your friends. You chuckled as you greeted the small brunette, buzzed enough off wine to shrug your nerves away. You couldn't exactly explain how you ended up here, to them. Or how you'd come to dress so finely. But they didn't pester you too much about it, drunk all the same. The girls swarmed you with giggles and hello's and how are you's.

"Change your mind, have you?" The blonde teased, raising her brow at you. But your mind was too slow to understand why.

"This is the gate the royals always leave from. Isn't it obvious?" The small brunette pointed, waving her hand to gesture around. When you glanced up, you noticed a particularly increasing population of young women that had begun to collect around the area. Geta always famously exited from this path, and always famously collected a girl or two to follow him back to the royal hall.

"Oh, no, I just sort of-" You stumbled over words, "ended up on this side." How were you to explain this all away? "I actually... should be going now that it's nearing an end. Get home before sun set." This reason sounded good enough in your head to speak aloud, as you began to walk backward, waving to your friends all the while. You spun on your heels, anxious to get away, making up your mind to head home should that be your only sound escape. But you'd barely walked a dozen paces before that guard was gliding close and halting your leave.

"You're not to go. I'm to see you united with her highness when she passes through that exit."

"Is- is that what she ordered?" You asked meekly, looking up to the roman soldier who loomed over you with his bulky build, yet kind eyes. The man did not speak, but lifted a hand to spin you around by the shoulder, placing a gentle palm there to guide you back where you came from. You saw your friends notice, perplexed gaze's settled on your march as you stepped closer to where they'd stayed waiting.

Caracalla was the first one to storm through the arched entrance, scowling at you on his storm toward his chariot. But then, a spectator, too drunk for his own good, began to slur insults to the emperor. The fellow had barely began cursing Caracalla's name, before the ruler stepped close to grab the man by his throat, strong enough to lift him to the tips of his dirty toes. The citizen struggled to breathe, squirming for relief. Caracalla shouted in the man's face, something about knowing better. The ruler let go, the citizen dropped to the floor in a rattled gasp. When Caracalla demanded the guards that followed him, to slaughter the citizen still choking for breath on the ground, you'd had enough.

"Do not do that. Have you such little mercy?" It wasn't to be helped, the way your body and mind worked together to force out a shout. You should have been more afraid of the way Caracalla turned to fix his fiery gaze on you. But rage at the senseless violence was all you could feel. Yet, the guards were already slashing their swords at the belly of the the citizen, so he might suffer still before passing.

Caracalla stood considering you, longer than you expected. The crowds fell silent, the only noises were the hoarse cries from the dying man. And your heart hammering in place.

Caracalla moved his look from you, to the guard steady at your side, and back to you. His head shook, and a scoff left his throat. He turned to leave, kicking the man he'd murdered on his exit. Your body shook with panic. Your stomach churned at the realization that you'd escaped yet another royal execution.

The crowds parted to let Caracalla pass, steering clear of the angry little man. Your friends seemed to think of walking closer to where the guard had stalled you to wait. But their confounded and horrified expressions morphed into something more wonder filled, as their collective eye unfocused from your position.

You were too busy assessing your friend's questioning gazes to see he'd appeared. But instead, you heard Geta's voice in your ear.

"I'd say you're lucky he spared you. But I think there are more powerful forces than luck working on your side." You heard him say. Your friend's gazes had no doubt been locked on the emperor, but soon fell more perplexed onto you, yet again. And then you realized everyone's eyes had shifted to you. The entire crowd that had watched you speak against the vindictive leader just ahead. The same crow that had pushed closer to wait for a scrap of attention from the man that spoke to only you, now, was casting a collective stupefied glare right at you.

"I'd like to take you away now, but I'll have you wait on my mother. She hasn't stopped bringing up your name since this day has begun." Geta stayed speaking lowly, and you nodded to assure you understood, keeping your nervous gaze cast on the crowd that had fixated their attentions on you. "Do not worry though, tonight we can debrief in more ways than one."

You had to turn and grin at him then, pleased to see he'd waited to share a smirk with you. He was off no sooner though, parting through the crowd with little acknowledgement their way. Your friends kept their slack jawed gazes set on you as you wondered for a beat about saying something to them. But then Julia was sweeping you away, resting her clutch at the bend of your arm like she'd done before.

They watched you leave, just as everyone had. You shot your friends a quick shrug and an expression you hoped they'd understand meant you'd catch them all up later, if ever you could dream up a good enough fib.

Unlike your journey here, Julia asked all about you on your trek back. You gave thoughtful answers, not daring to spare the truth of your meager life to the woman, but hoping the way you spoke of it would endear you to her somehow. It wasn't like you needed to be adored by Julia. But you did long to be respected in some basic human way, by the royal woman.

///

That evening went on strangely. Caracalla locked himself away in the furthest parts of the halls. No one dared speak about him in his absence. No one had dared to allude to his fury or righteousness at all. Instead, the tone of the evening was rather merry. You shared a meal with a mile long table of strangers, glad all the while to have been welcomed in the celebrations of the day. You gabbed with socialites and senators alike, until one by one they headed for home and bed. Try as you might to take your leave, Julia would not let you. She only kept dragging you from guest to guest to introduce. Until you were the last one standing. Until even Julia had made her exit from the room, Geta too. Leaving you to wait in the parlor until further command.

A pair of guards stood unmoving near the doors, as you sat at the head of the dirty table. There were plates and glasses and saucers left awry, covered in crumbs for the kitchen maids to come and handle. There was a steady crackling fire on the opposite end of the room. There was wallpaper that didn't put your senses at ease the way the kind in Geta's room often had.

When the sound of the door opening stirred you from blank thoughts, you shifted to stand. Julia was easing into the room, smile and curls soft as ever. Eye's full of a certain kind of knowing. Behind her, Geta followed. His mother spoke your name, as if to grab your attention, as if she didn't already have it.

"You're not to return home." The woman began, gliding to stall before you. Geta shouldered past her, moving to stand at your side and watching as his mother spoke. "I've noticed you come and go, as I mentioned." Julia went on. "And I've noticed how my son has been less fraught, during the time you've been around. I've heard you speak, and I've seen you command a presence in any room you enter."

"What are you on about? What is this?" Geta demanded, that brooding gaze of his beginning to darken as understanding evaded him.

"As good as she has been for you, son, I'm certain she'll benefit our empire just as well." Julia glanced to Geta before her gaze settled unmovably on yours. Your chest filled with the weight of a realization. Your mind buzzed with wonders of her implications. "You will marry in two days time. Enough to spread the news across the public, and plan something grand."

"Marry?" You breathed, feeling your heart hammer in your stomach.

"You actually don't-" Geta began.

"I actually am watching this empire teeter on the edge of collapse." Julia interrupted Geta, causing his jaw to clench and his brow to darken further than before. "If we do not start moving more intentionally in the direction of change, you and your brother will ruin everything. If you marry this girl, you will marry someone from the very public you've been so often accused of dismissing. This girl is clearly capable of not only earning our family greater public favor. But she would be your bride, and you two together would have a better chance of making sense of this empire than your brother. Caracalla cannot be allowed to overpower your rule, Geta. Do you realize how close that idea is to becoming our reality?" Julia was insistent. "You do not have a choice. This has to happen. For all our fates." She was looking right at you again.

You were shaken, stunned, totally unprepared. Just days ago you were living such a carefree reality, all you knew were paints and pleasure by way of the emperor's hands. But now all of a sudden, all of Rome's fate depended on if you stayed standing here or made a break to sprint for the door.

"Get out." Geta pointed, coldly dismissing his mother. She began to argue back, pleading his name to listen. "Get out! I command it!" Geta was fuming, rage becoming his entire essence. You couldn't help but screw your eyes shut at the boom of his voice. You heard a guard approach to see the royal mother out of the door. She went without a fight, but insisted Geta had no choice, insisting she was already making plans to assure this fate for the both of you. As one guard saw her out of the room, the other followed, leaving you and Geta alone in the room with the ugly wallpaper.

The fire stayed crackling in the corner. The table stayed dirty. Geta began to pace, like he did, hands on his hips, head shaking in an effort to make sense of things.

"You are quiet." He spoke up, softer than he had spoken all night.

"I am choiceless." You warbled. Hadn't this already happened to you? Hadn't you already been forced to wed a man for the betterment of some kind of future? You thought you'd already paid your dues. You thought freedom was supposed to be promised at some point. You thought you'd had it, just days ago. But even still you were captured by the powers that be. It wasn't like you were opposed to being Geta's bride. But you were rocked to realize it didn't matter what you wanted, in this life. It was just going to keep happening to you, against you, despite you.

You watched as Geta sped up his pace, thinking. His eyes danced as if to keep up with an invisible coming together idea. And then his moving stalled. He rolled his shoulders and let his eyes rake up your figure, like they so often did. Geta's brown stare bore into yours, as if to search for an answer to a question not yet asked.

"You claim to have been born to die." Geta gestured, sauntering closer. "I claim to have been born to rule. But we have failed to consider what there could be to live for. I have reason to believe my answer to living lies within you." His speech was imploring. He meant it. He only ever spoke with authority, by that you weren't surprised. But by his meaning, by the tenderness in it, you were. "As ruler, I shall make the final decision regarding my mother's demands. But... I shall also wait here in silence as you choose your fate. I will command no guard after you should you flee. This time, this wedding, you'll be allowed to choose."

"Should I flee, will there be fines? Will I forever be in your debt somehow?"

"I shall see to it that you owe nothing to this empire if you leave it. But you must leave it entirely, you must go far from here. It's the only way I could make these guarantees."

"Should I stay..."

Geta loomed closer, until his breath fanned across your face. So close you could see the golds speckled across the brown of his eyes. Close enough to kiss.

"I would see to your value." Geta breathed, stalling an inch before you. "Your profile on coins. Your voice heard above others. Your throne... My bed... I'd see to it."

Your heart hadn't stopped pounding since this conversation spun to life. But it beat harder yet, at Geta's tone and implication now.

"Take my hand." Geta held an open face palm before you. "Or turn away." You glanced to the door.

You considered all that lie beyond it, the quiet, the vastness. The race to the finish line of life would be slow and steady outside these doors. Your freedom would be quiet and lonely. Then you turned to Geta and saw a different kind of future to consider. And then a thought dawned on you. What if the freedom you'd always been in search of, was not just yours alone? What if an entire empires fate had always been pressed into the back of your heart, clear in the front of your mind only now that you understood everything Julia had said. You thought of your latest painting. The one with the sheep and the sunset. You wondered if maybe it was a sunrise all along.

Your hand flexed, knuckles deciding between clenching and raising up. Until suddenly your palm was in Getas. Until suddenly your fate, and all of Rome's, had been sealed.

///

Part 2 Coming Soon...

#joseph quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #emperor geta #emperor geta fanfic #geta x reader #gladiator 2 #joseph quinn x reader #fem!reader #joe quinn smut #minors dni

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thewordswewrite · 2 months

Text

Be My Guest

Pairing | Kate Carter x Tyler Owens

Summary | One time Tyler stays in Kate’s guest room and one time she stays in his

Warnings | discussions of trauma/injury associated with storm chasing, SMUT 18+

W/C | 6.6k

A/N | We wanted to hop into the Twisters fandom before it took ao3 by storm and this is *so far* what we've come up with. So...if you feel it... -smoe <33

AO3 | Link

Donations | Link

Hers

She came home for safety, familiarity, to find her way forward but instead, she found herself more lost than when she’d arrived.

It was only supposed to be a week. Sure, Kate thought it would be difficult to be back in the field but she hadn’t anticipated this. She hadn’t anticipated him. It shouldn’t matter. She had a job in New York, a life, a stable, safe job, her own apartment–everything she needed. But was it everything she wanted?

What Tyler had said crossed a line but that didn’t mean it wasn’t the truth. It was just something she probably already knew, deep down, and hadn’t wanted to accept. She was running away from the storm but she should know better than most that it would always catch up.

With an aggravated sweep of her arm, all of her past research was on the floor, pages floating around her before finding a place to land. She almost immediately regretted the mess but it had felt good. For the last five years, she’s avoided risk but now it almost feels hypocritical to say that she misses it.

Kate bent to gather the papers but only grabbed a few before stopping at her Cloud Physics notebook which had fallen open to a familiar page. She sat down in front of it and traced the impressions of her writing on the pages. It was too much to retrace her steps, to consider what had gone wrong. She needed to get out of her head and she couldn’t do that without getting out of this damn barn.

She knocked lightly on the kitchen door so as not to startle her mom. Being an adult, Kate felt an aversion to putting these things on her mom. Her mother had always been supportive, even when knowing her daughter’s passion was actively putting her in danger. Maybe she just didn’t want her mom to repeat the same sentiments as Tyler but she also knew she wasn’t about to come to any decision without some guidance. Just like seeing her middle school science project again, she felt like a child standing in the kitchen.

“Kate?”

“Yeah, it’s just me.” She sighed and pulled out the chair at the dining table that had always belonged to her. The smell of whatever her mother was stirring made her stomach grumble. “Where’s Tyler?”

“Oh, he drove pretty far so he’s getting cleaned up.” Kate could tell her mom was trying to sound uninterested, maybe for her sake but still she asked, “What’s his story anyway?”

“He’s just some internet star from Arkansas,” She explained, picking at a stain on the table. For a moment she thought about leaving it at that but the fire he had lit in the barn was still burning inside her. Sardonically, she added, “He’s made a living as a so-called ‘Tornado Wrangler’ but so far he’s only shot some fireworks into a cyclone and nearly killed the reporter signed on to cover him and his team.”

Her mom chuckled and replied, “Sounds like a man looking for a thrill to me.”

Again, she felt like a child relaying the latest gossip from the schoolyard but she couldn’t help but continue.

“And his whole team is this ragtag group of people who’ve never been to school for this either!”

“I see.”

“I mean sure he’s studied meteorology but they could get seriously hurt.” Kate had busied herself by fiddling with a napkin she’d pulled from the homemade holder. The shreds of it were getting smaller and smaller. “They’re no professionals.”

Her mom hummed, acknowledging her annoyance but countered with, “Well he doesn’t seem too bad to me, he did drive all the way here.” Although her mother graciously spared her the ‘for you’ that they both knew completed that thought, she felt its weight. It was easier to make him seem unlikeable than tell her mom that it was her that was in the wrong.

“You’d believe me if you saw the shirts he sells, his face all sprawled across them.” Kate laughed, thinking of the cheesy slogans. It wasn’t lost on her that she had assumed the worst of him. She thought back to what Lily had said and felt ashamed. “Though,” She conceded, “the money does pay for food for the aftermath survivors. They were handing it out at the last town we were in after the tornado hit.”

“Not all bad then?” Her mother turned fully to face her and Kate knew her teasing expression said all she needed to know.

“I guess not.”

_ _ _

Dinner had been passable, if not enjoyable. Kate had figured it would be awkward, that the dynamic between her and her mom would be offset by Tyler’s presence but it had flowed easily. The only gripe she had was that her mother had gone over her head to invite him to stay the night. In her ideal world, she would’ve ushered him out right after dinner saying a quick thanks for his concern but sending him on his way knowing that she’d never have an obligation to speak to him again.

Tyler had, of course, helped her mom with the dishes, leaving her to watch awkwardly so as not to take up unnecessary space in the small kitchen. She’d shot him a tight smile as he’d excused himself to his room for the night.

“Well,” Her mom said from the doorway, “I’m off to bed. Shut the lights, will you?” She didn’t wait for an answer as she made her way past the living room to her bedroom.

Kate tapped her fingers sporadically against the table, the sound echoing in the quiet house. She hadn’t been fully present for dinner. Every time she looked at Tyler she could only think about what she was doing wrong, what she was missing. As much as she resented the fact, there was no way she could make peace with the past couple of days if she didn’t get in another word with him.

She flipped the last of the switches off and made her way up the stairs, avoiding the ones she knew were extra creaky. At the landing, Kate considered just going to her bedroom but her feet kept their integrity and trudged her towards the guest room.

Her hand was poised to knock when the door opened.

“Kate?” The sound of his voice combined with the unexpected image made her jump. Whatever she had been prepared to say had left with her surprise but Tyler was already speaking again. “Listen, what I said in the barn was out of line I shouldn’t have–”

“No you shouldn’t have…but you weren’t wrong either.”

Stepping back, he opened the door a bit more and though it wasn’t quite an invitation. It was a line she wasn’t sure she wanted to cross with his apology and her admittance the gist of what she’d hoped for. She promised herself that if he didn’t try to say anything else, she’d just turn around and walk away. He bit his lip, seeming to wrestle with something the same way she was.

“What’s the story behind you and Javi?” The question surprised her and she felt a vague excitement about his interest or rather the fact that he was interested at all. But the story itself was not something she was sure she could share.

“We met in college, he was friends with my…my boyfriend at the time.”

Tyler’s eyebrow raised in a silent question before he said, “And your boyfriend he was…”

She couldn’t stand in the hallway any longer where she was fully open to his scrutiny whether the story inspired pity or something else. Kate stepped past him into the room and started to explain,

“He was in the accident, along with two of my best friends.” She folded her arms across her chest, in a way trying to shield herself from the memories. “We were testing the polymer on what we thought was an EF1 but–”

“It was an EF5.” She nodded and his lips shifted into a sympathetic frown. Kate sat on the edge of the bed so that she didn’t have to face him head on.

She continued with, “So, I quit school and packed up to New York. Javi went back to Miami but because of the outbreak he thought he could use a second pair of eyes and invited me on.” From her peripheral, she could see the way he nodded along as she spoke, the genuine compassion still written in his features. She shrugged, unwilling to allow herself to feel the extent of the situation and the memories in front of him, “None of it matters though, I’ll be back in the city by the end of the week anyway.”

“You mean you’re giving up?” Tyler asked like it was somehow a personal affront to him or some greater injustice. Kate wasn’t sure what he cared. They’d only just met and he didn’t know her, not really.

“I’m not giving up. I can’t live like this again, risking my life every day.”

“Because of the accident?” The way he said it, like it was only a passing moment and not something that monumentally changed not only her life but her, made her response sharp.

“Yes, because of the accident.”

He was unshaken by her hostility and placed a hand lightly on top of hers where it sat between them on the bed.

“Kate, I’ve seen people get hurt too, I’ve–” She couldn’t listen to this, couldn’t have him reduce her experience by comparison. If he thought this was the way to change her mind, he was sorely mistaken.

“Yeah, Tyler, well I got hurt. I watched people die, and I’ll bear those scars for the rest of my life.” Her body filled with tension of the memory as her breath began to quicken. She let the anger take over, the simplicity of it easier than the complicated truth. “I don't know why I even–”

“Hold on–Kate!”

Kate could feel the air his failed reach created as he tried to grab her wrist to stop her. She was fast though, spurred on by the singular goal of getting the hell away from him. When she made it to the threshold of her room, she moved to shut the door. It almost slammed fully closed but groaned as the wood crashed into the foot he’d managed to snake in.

“Go to bed,” She demanded.

“So what, you’re going to help Javi line the pockets of Riggs for the rest of the week? The real estate shark that's directly profiting off the suffering of these people?” It seemed he couldn’t help, was adept at, pushing her buttons. If she were any bolder, she’d have already struck the self-righteous expression off his face.

“I didn’t know about that, I would have never–these are my people but this isn’t the way, the polymer didn’t work and people died because of it.”

“More will too, but only if you don’t do anything.” He tried to reach for her again but she shrugged away, “It could work. Together we could do this.” Tyler’s expression was pleading, his eyes urging her to make the right decision.

“Goodnight, Tyler.”

His

The flight was thankfully uneventful and much easier than her last flight to Oklahoma when she’d been dreading the very idea of her return. There were still memories that haunted the place she called home but now she could rest assured that they weren’t losses for nothing and that she may very well be able to save someone, hopefully many someones, from the same suffering she had endured for years.

Kate dragged her suitcases through the airport and the bustle of people coming and going made her feel oddly comforted. New York was easy to get lost in and for the time, it was exactly what she needed. But it had only ever been a place she ran away to and after a while she was running too fast to ever see it for what it was. Here, in Oklahoma, she was home.

She made her way out to the pickup lanes and was met with a calm blue sky, one that she knew–or maybe even hoped–wouldn’t last. At the five-minute mark, Kate was unbothered. By ten, she considered concern. By twenty, she was on the phone. It took three calls getting sent to voicemail before her mother picked up on the fourth.

“Hey, are you alright?” She tried not to sound too concerned but it wasn’t like her mother to forget an obligation or to not pick up the phone.

“Oh, sunshine, I’m fine. It’s my truck that’s acting up,” Her mom replied. “I was on the road already when it decided to quit on me. I’m not sure how long repairs are going to take. You want me to call someone for you?” Kate sighed, more relieved by her mother’s well-being than bothered by the situation.

“No, don’t worry about it,” She answered, “As much as you don’t like it, I am a big girl. I can take care of it.”

“I know you can, baby. Don’t worry about making it here tonight, just take care of yourself.”

They exchanged ‘I love you’s before it sunk in that actually did have to take care of it. She found herself a spot on a nearby bench and tucked her luggage in beside her. Scrolling through her contacts, her thumb hovered over Javi before something urged her to keep going. Kate wasn’t sure if this was a bad idea but lately, she could handle a little risk.

“Hello?” She bit her lip, knowing this was her last chance to turn back. Still, he might not even be around or available to get her.

“Hey, Tyler?”

“Uh, yeah?” His voice was in performance mode, his uncertainty no match to his inherent charisma. Kate found herself filled with an urgent hope.

“It's Kate, Kate Carter.”

“Kate!” She could hear the smile in his voice. It was the first time she’d called him since he gave her his number and she was just beginning to regret not using it sooner. “What uh…what's going on?”

Her stomach flipped at the realization that she had to explain herself, that she wasn’t just calling him. Oh god, was this a mistake? Kate had thought there was something there when they were saying goodbye but maybe this was pushing it.

“Are you in Oklahoma by any chance?”

“I am actually,” Tyler replied before he, with a hopeful tone, asked, “Are you here?”

“Do you think you could pick me up from the airport?” She fought the urge to cross her fingers like a little girl. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if she had to call Javi but she couldn’t help but want to see where this path led.

“Of course!” Her chest tightened, a mix between excitement and worry. “Is everything alright with your mom?” Kate’s cheeks flushed, touched by his concern.

“Yeah–truck just wasn’t starting, don’t worry,” She said, hoping she sounded nonchalant.

“Alright then, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” In the background, Kate could hear his keys jingling already and she smiled to herself.

“Thanks so much. Bye.”

_ _ _

Kate had been inside, sitting at a cafe when her phone buzzed in her pocket, Tyler letting her know that he’d made it. She tossed out her empty coffee cup before regathering her things and taking a deep breath. If she was being honest with herself, she was excited to see him but she didn’t want to endure the inevitable teasing she’d be subject to should she seem too eager to be in his presence.

The sliding doors opened and it took her a minute to spot the familiar red truck. Her eyes followed the path to where Tyler was busy basking in the attention of an adoring fan. What more could she expect?

“And did you want this signed cause I could definitely sign this for you.”

He didn’t notice as she siddled up, even with the rumble of her suitcases on the concrete. She shook her head at the display of his ‘Tornado Wrangler’ persona and thought better than to let him off the hook.

With the exaggerated voice of a dedicated fan, she implored, “Oh my goodness! Is that Tyler Owens? I am your biggest fan!”

“That’s me darlin’, what can I do for–Kate.” He cleared his throat and straightened out his posture, putting on the real Tyler at the sight of her. Kate bit her lip, sparing him the laugh that threatened to escape her.

“Tyler,” She said, “You look good.”

“Well, I feel good.” Tyler stood with his hands on his hips, the two of them alone now and it seemed neither of them knew just what to say. She laughed at his remark and began to heave her luggage into the bed. Before she could lift the larger of the two bags, Tyler was stopping her with a hand on her wrist. Kate looked up at him, confused.

“Don’t make me make you get in the truck.” She glared at him, gauging whether or not he was serious. He only matched her expression. “Get in the truck,” Tyler repeated.

Kate rolled her eyes and climbed into the passenger seat. She couldn’t help but lean over toward the shift, running her fingers across the buttons. Her pointer finger landed on the tape labeled, ‘Kate’s Barrels’ and traced over his writing. When the driver's door opened, she jumped at the movement and tore her hand away.

“Headed to your mom’s?” Tyler asked, fingers tapping a rhythm onto the wheel.

“Uh, no actually just any motel close would be good. Home’s a bit far and the flight was long. I just want to go to bed.” She reminded herself that that was the only reason.

“I’m close,” He told her. Since when was he close? “I mean you could stay in my guest room and I could take you back to Sapulpa in the morning?” The idea sounded as equally dangerous as it was appealing. With a motel, she was in control of the situation but his place? There was no knowing.

Clearing her throat she answered, “That…sounds fine.”

Tyler tipped his hat toward her and then he was making his way out of the parking spot. For a little while, they sat in comfortable silence, the radio filling the empty space between them. Once they were outside the city, it was comforting to watch as farmland made up her view. The word rattled in her head again. Home.

“So, how did it end up going with the investors?” He asked. “Good, I assume since you’re back in Oklahoma.” Kate couldn’t help but smile knowing well enough already how happy he’d be to hear. Not to mention how happy she was to achieve something she’d been chasing since the possibility entered her mind.

“Yeah, it went very well actually. We uh–we got a lot of people interested and the offers were so good…I quit my job and sold the apartment. I’m back, back.”

Tyler’s smile grew to a million watts as he exclaimed, “Kate! That’s amazing!”

“Thank you, we’re really excited.” She thought she saw his grin falter a bit but she couldn’t pin down why. Still, after a moment he let out a whoop, honking the horn at the expense of the car in front of them. Kate laughed, placing her hand over his to keep him from doing it again.

“So, where you planning on living? With Javi?”

“Actually I’m not sure yet. Javi has this new girlfriend from back in Miami and they’re pretty wrapped up in each other.” His eyebrows raised and she continued, “My mom's kind of out of the way too. Plus, she’s thinking of selling since seed prices just keep going up. Says she’s sick of the weather.”

Tyler’s jaw went slack, exaggerating his shock. “Sick of the–Sick of the weather?”

“What can I say, she doesn’t appreciate the beauty of the storm.” Kate sighed theatrically. Her hand went to her forehead in a ��woe is me’ gesture. He chuckled, punching her playfully in the arm.

“On the topic of prices though, she is right.” Tyler sighed as he turned onto a new street. “That’s why I bought land and started from the ground up.”

“Land?” She repeated. It hadn’t been that long that she’d been gone. When and more so why had he decided to put down roots and outside of Arkansas for that matter.

“Yes, ma’am.” His mouth quirked up in a prideful smirk.

“And here I thought I’d be sharing some shitty motel room.”

They pulled into a long dirt driveway, the grass surrounding it still young. While the house was clearly new, the style had a nostalgic feel to it. It was painted a fresh shade of cream and the white wrap-around porch just screamed summer nights. If she didn’t know better she’d think she was going to visit some sweet old lady.

“Here we are, home sweet home.”

Tyler opened her door for her like a proper gentleman and she stepped out into pleasant fresh air. The whole thing was picturesque. Kate supposed she shouldn’t really be surprised considering she didn’t really know his tastes but the whole thing surprised her nonetheless.

She followed Tyler through the front door as he carried her bags inside. The interior was just as sweet as the exterior had been but Kate could see the signs that were uniquely him. There were various piles and pieces of gear strewn about that she recognized from having filled her mother’s house with. Even with the classic style, the appliances and layout were tastefully modern. She was impressed.

Kate stepped into the kitchen which seemed to be the most lived-in room. There were pictures of the Wranglers and what she assumed was his family stuck to the fridge. Her eyes drifted to a bulletin board hung up next to it and tacked up in the center of it was a page ripped out of their article from Ben, one with a picture of her. She could feel her cheeks flush even with him still in the other room. Though she wanted to, Kate knew she wouldn’t mention it.

“You hungry?” She jumped at the sound of Tyler’s voice.

“No, I couldn’t–” The same look that urged her to ‘get in the truck’ painted his face and she reconsidered her answer. “Starved.”

Tyler seemed satisfied. He pulled out a seat at the kitchen island where she could have a clear view of him whipping something together. The whole thing felt unnervingly domestic but she enjoyed it all the same.

“This place is really nice, Tyler,” Kate said. Gesturing toward his tricked-out home office–that was maybe a little too nice for a YouTube star–she pointed out, “Got a nice setup too.”

“Yeah, the team has pretty much paired off and they live here and there but we come back for a warm meal more often than not.”

“Not you though?” It had crossed her mind that maybe the sudden home ownership had been a response to some sort of serious relationship. She tried to sound casual since it wasn’t really any of her business.

Tyler smiled and shrugged. “Nah, a fearless leader has to hold down the fort.” Kate rolled her eyes and laughed at his cockiness. It was better knowing that it didn’t run deep. She thought better than to push it but still, she wanted to know what this whole thing was for.

“No, but seriously, why a house?”

“Oklahoma is the past, present and future of tornadoes. That’s no secret,” He replied like it was some well-known slogan. Yeah, the outbreak they experienced had put Oklahoma back on the map but Tornado Alley spanned a wide area, including Arkansas.

“How do you figure?”

“Well you’re here, aren’t you?” Her stomach sank, trying to decipher the meaning behind what he said. His focus was trained on the pot in front of him like what he’d said was no big deal. What was she supposed to say to that?

Without an answer, Tyler clarified, “You’ve got better instinct than anyone I’ve ever met, better than any Doppler too.”

He’d turned to her and winked in her continued silence. Kate nodded with a smile like it was casual to her too. She shifted under his intense gaze and thought it was an apt time to break the tension with something she’d been tossing around in her mind. He laid a plate of spaghetti in front of her before sitting down himself. She cleared her throat.

“I was going to wait to bring this up but…I was wondering if you would consider being partners.”

“Really?” The excitement on his face was genuine and Kate could see the surprise too. It made her feel secure in her decision.

“Javi and I both have stakes in it but he’s avoiding the field as much as he can right now. He’s got the business side under control but, like I said, he’s got someone at home who’d prefer he didn’t get blown away.”

Tyler stayed practically frozen in place. Maybe she’d overstepped her bounds after all. She could tell herself all she wanted that she wouldn’t be hurt if he didn’t want to partner with her but that didn’t make it the truth.

“What do you say, me and you?” Kate asked, bracing for his answer.

“You and me,” Tyler replied genuinely and with what she hoped was a hint of awe.

They ate silently, half from hunger and half in consideration of their future. As much as Kate didn’t want to admit it, there were other questions lingering between them. When her plate was cleared, he insisted on taking care of the simple cleanup himself leaving Kate to sit idly at the kitchen table, unable to get anywhere else without his direction anyway.

With the dishes washed, Tyler turned his attention back to her but it seemed he had just as much of an idea of how to proceed as she did.

“So, uh…” She began, uncertain where she was going.

“I bet you probably want to get cleaned up. There’s an en suite in the guest room.”

“Yeah, great.” As much as she wanted to bolt, Kate got up from the table slowly as if she were as calm as could be. Still, she didn’t wait for any instructions as to where to go. She didn’t turn back to look at him as she climbed the stairs, internally cursing herself for adding to the awkward atmosphere.

“First door on the right!” Tyler called after her because, of course, she hadn’t asked.

_ _ _

The warm water had been just what she needed, especially paired with the time away from Tyler to think. As much as there had been a sense of tension between them, her feelings had settled on contentment and maybe even excitement. They were partners now and they had plenty of time to figure everything and anything else out. They’d been through hell already and he would help her through it again.

She stepped out of the shower, her feet hitting the plush bath mat, and reached for a towel. Her hand grabbed only air. Upon further inspection, the towel rack was completely unoccupied. Shit.

“Um, Tyler?” Kate called. She waited a few minutes for his response and when it didn’t come she yelled louder. “Tyler!” She let out a breath when she heard his footsteps on the stairs.

“Yeah?”

“There are no towels in here!”

“Shit. My bad, no one has used that bedroom yet,” Tyler explained. His feet were already causing the wood floor to creak when he assured, “I’ll grab you one, be right back.”

Kate couldn’t believe this was happening. There was a good chance that she’d expose herself in the exchange. She’d even left her clothes on the bed, choosing to strip before going to the bathroom.

A few minutes later there was a hesitant knock on the door.

“Here, I brought you a few. I don’t know what you prefer,” Tyler said.

She had to assume that he was smart enough not to look. He’d been nothing but polite after all. When she opened the door, his eyes were covered by the palm of his hand, and his other arm was extended out to her. Kate tried not to laugh at the look of him.

“Thanks.”

Kate wrapped the largest towel around herself and used another to dry the excess moisture from her hair. She pulled the door back open, assuming he was gone but she was met with his figure, eyes still shielded. Nearly bumping right into him, she let out an involuntary sound something between a squeak and a groan. Tyler echoed the sound and quickly flipped his hand so he could see her. She had to assume that his subsequent turning around was motivated by her state of undress.

She didn’t know what else to do besides starting to dress. It seemed he wasn’t done talking to her just yet. After a moment, he spoke.

“Uh, Kate…I, uh, realized I didn’t say thank you just then for considering me.”

“Who else could I possibly consider?” She winced at her own words. By no means did Kate want to sound like she was unhappy, she just didn’t want to make it a big deal between them.

“Well, right, I guess there’s not many storm chasers to begin with and especially not ones who’ve studied meteorology.” Kate could hear the slight hurt in his voice even as he tried to tease and she couldn’t blame him. She’d said the wrong thing. She quickly finished pulling on her pajama pants so she could focus on the conversation before she said something else she regretted.

“Tyler,” She said softly. He still had his back considerately turned to her. Like a kid trying to pass notes in class, Kate tapped his shoulder to get his attention. Tyler smiled as he faced her and it gave her the boost she needed to say what she wanted. “You’re the reason I’m doing this in the first place. You believed in me even when I didn’t. We’re going to be helping people and that’s because of you.”

He was shaking his head before she’d even finished.

“You can’t believe that, it's your polymer, your idea–”

She took a confident step forward, the action effectively shutting him up. The closer Kate got the more she angled up at him, his height towering over her. Her hand found its way to his jaw, cupping it gently, her thumb brushing over the stubble of his skin. Before she had the chance to close the distance, Tyler took his chance to capture her lips with his own.

It started slow, hesitant to the possibility of too much too fast but quickly gained momentum as they threw caution to the wind. It had been years since Kate had done this, never quite feeling able to move on from Jeb and the accident but now with a sense of closure and Tyler’s guiding hand she felt ready.

His mouth was eager as their kiss deepened, Tyler’s tongue painting the inside of her mouth, almost as if he was committing it to memory. Their heavy breaths filled the air and neither of them seemed willing to break the kiss as the minutes went on. It wasn’t until her fingers played at the hem of his shirt that he broke off, looking down at her through hooded eyes, his mouth swollen and flushed.

“Kate…”

The sight was too much and she couldn’t help but bring her lips back to his skin. They found purchase at his pulse point, kisses littering his neck as she made her intentions known to him with every touch.

Taking a step back, Tyler’s hands cradled her face and he searched her eyes, looking for what she wasn’t sure but when he seemed to find it a smile broke across his face. It was the same smile he sported every time the wind picked up and the radar lit up red: a man ready to face a challenge.

“You still wanna stay in my guest room?” He asked, though his joking town was limited by his heavy breathing. Kate knew he was teasing but he was just as eager as she was.

“If you keep up with that attitude I just might,” She replied, smiling ruefully.

“Honey,” Tyler beamed, “all I’ve got is attitude.”

A chuckle escaped her lips and his face turned from cocky to sincere before he leaned in to steal a kiss once more. His hands moved from her face to grasping her own as he led her to what she assumed was his room.

Kate struggled to keep up as he held his hands behind him for her to grasp. She held them awkwardly as the unusual position did not grant her a good grip. The playful air gave her butterflies but also made her feel a sense of safety, knowing that things didn’t have to be heavy between them.

Tyler turned, pulling their hands over his head so that Kate twirled around with him. He used the momentum to guide her backward into his room with his hands on her hips, attempting a cheesily seductive smolder. She used her heel to kick the door shut behind them.

Kate walked ahead of him to go sit on the edge of his bed. She could tell he was watching her closely to consider his next move but she enjoyed the idea of playing coy with him. Ignoring him, she took in the space which was surprisingly sparse especially compared to the ground floor.

“Wow, real homey in here,” Kate joked, feigning awe at the blank walls

“Oh, hush,” Tyler chided, “It hasn’t been that long since we finished construction.”

She put up her hands in surrender and replied, “Sure, sure.” He rolled his eyes at her and then his expression became soft again. Tyler walked forward, kneeing her legs open and standing between them. With just a tilt of her head they were kissing again and this time when she grabbed his shirt, he let her take it off of him. Kate paused a moment to take him in, the image one she intended to commit to memory before pulling her own shirt over her head.

The rest of their clothes came quickly but when it was time for her to remove her jeans she hesitated.

“We don’t have to do this.” Tyler reassured her, misreading her reluctance. Kate shook her head.

“It's not that it’s–” She huffed in frustration and rather than continue to overthink, pulled her pants down in one swift motion, hoping he’d move past the interruption rather than linger on the issue.

Instead, his eyes moved immediately to her lower half and zeroed in on her leg…her scar. Kate’s stomach began to churn. She knew that he knew the story but she hated that it had to be part of this moment between them. He had been part of making it possible for her to redeem herself, to make sure the losses were not worth nothing. Still, the memories and the physical signs would never leave her. It made her insecure but if he had a problem with it, this wasn’t worth continuing.

“Is this from…”

“Yes,” Kate replied flatly. She didn’t have anything to prove and she wanted more than anything to move on from this as soon as possible. Tyler looked up from the marred skin on her leg and cupped her face with one of his hands. His eyes were filled with pure admiration.

“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

Tyler’s lips were on hers again as he leaned her back into the bed, his body sculpting to hers. She felt a hand trail down her body, over her ass, before he hoisted her leg over his shoulder, his face turning towards her thigh and kissing over her scar as he lined himself up with her entrance. He looked at her until she realized he was waiting for her cue. She grabbed onto his upper arms and nodded, making it clear she was ready.

He was slow with her, caressing in all the right spots and making sure she was comfortable until he was finally fully inside her and they moaned in unison at the feeling. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time and when he took a moment to brush the hair from her face it made it all that much sweeter so much so that she laughed. Tyler looked at her, concerned but when she kissed him, he smiled into it catching her drift.

As he began to grind into her, he coaxed mewls from her lips, her hips meeting his instinctually at the pleasure. The way he watched her carefully for her reactions made her heart soar. He made it evident that they were in this together, that he cared about making her feel good. One of Tyler's hands still held her leg while the other found her clit, circling it while keeping pace and she couldn’t help the words spilling from her mouth.

“Tyler,” Kate pleaded, “Don’t stop.” He listened to her demand but she could see how it made him falter. His expression was that of awe as if he couldn’t believe that he was here with her, that she was enjoying what he was doing for them. She curled an arm around his neck and played with the hair there in a way that caused him to flush.

“I gotcha,” Tyler promised, somehow pressing them closer together, “I gotcha.”

She could’ve been embarrassed at how fast she came but Tyler didn’t give her a chance, instead riding her out through her climax and continuing to thrust even after. It was almost too much as tears of pleasure pricked her eyes and her moans filled the room. Her hands gripped the sheets, his arms, his hair, anything that she could reach to keep hold of her senses as they were overwhelmed. All she could think or comprehend was Tyler.

“I–I’m close,” He stammered, the tremble in his voice radiating throughout his body, “Kate, I–”

Her vision went white when she came again, though she could hear Tyler moan her name like a mantra, his head buried in her neck. One hand reached into his hair while the other traced absent circles on his back. It took him a minute but eventually, he came back to her.

“Hey,” He said, letting out a breathy laugh.

“Hi.”

Tyler pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, clearly savoring the moment. Kate didn’t want it to end either but she was confident that it was only beginning. They both let out their own versions of a disappointed noise as he pulled out.

When he disappeared into the ensuite, she pulled his comforter up around her, the scent of him enveloping her as well. He came back with a damp towel and once helped her clean up, he flopped into bed beside her, pulling her into his side.

Kate placed a hand on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat under her palm. Tyler pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She wanted to bask in the moment a bit longer but before she knew it she was beginning to yawn.

The last thing she remembered before she fell into a peaceful sleep was the sweet kiss they shared and the soft rumble of his voice.

“Goodnight, Kate.”

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cattlemons · 1 month

Note

hi, if you're okay with writing for him, wanderer x reader hcs? (it can be short and brief!!) /nf

The Archivist and The Stubborn Scholar

TW: Not proofread and the punctuations on this might be kinda yikes (tried my best tho), this particular big boy is 1,7k words big (very short and super brief (❁´◡`❁))

Hope you like this, my first ever nonnie! (I wanna frame you like a first dollar)

I feel like the Wanderer is kind of a tough nut to crack because his trauma wall is 100 inches thick.

At the beginning, he’s really just huffing and puffing and being a total jerk to you (and everyone else). To be honest, you’re just trying your best to tough it out and not cuss him out every chance you get.

Technically, he isn’t a permanent student of the Vahumana; he only comes in to borrow research papers he needs for his own paper and then he’s off again. So, there's no reason for you to see him all that much.

But aside from being a student, you’re also the Akedemiya’s archivist, so you do meet him fairly often. Not that you enjoyed his prickly presence at first. It was quite the nuisance, if anything.

Every time he comes in to borrow something, it feels like he’s purposefully trying to get a rise out of you.

He’s also frustratingly accurate in pressing your buttons; like he knows exactly what makes you tick and explode.

You want to chop his head off.

Luckily for him, you’re closer to Celestia than he is because your patience for him is on par with that of a saint.

“I need a paper on Tatarasuna, but I want it as recent as possible. The closer to ‘yesterday’ it is published, the better.”

Looking away from your own paper, you looked at him like he grew five heads, each wearing a big ‘ol hat. To your defense, you’re only four beats off.

“Look, I know you’re an honored guest of the Archon and only recently started joining in on this research writing business, but you’ve got to learn how we do things here,” you huffed as you searched for a written guideline you have not needed for a while now.

Pulling the paper out of your bag, you pointed and explained the graphic drawn on it.

“First, you go and find out which collection of research papers you need and ask me politely if we have it here in the archives. Then, I tell you if we have it or not before asking if you want it copied and if you need more assistance—”

“Okay, fine. I want Tatarasuna papers and assistance.”

“Please let me finish.”

“Why’d you stop talking if you weren’t finished?”

“You interrupted me?!”

That’s basically how an average conversation with him goes.

But as time goes on, the hate turns into dislike and then into pretend hate and finally into secret like.

At the start of his research, the visits are few and far between, but as the research starts getting heavier, his visits get more frequent too.

He also likes to work on the tables right outside the archival building for “quicker access to papers.”

This is not for the public, but he also kind of maybe perhaps secretly likes looking at the archivist.

He just likes looking at you when you’re confused about why the journal you’re reading is spewing lies. He also likes looking at you when you huff at your paper because the wording is all messed up.

Yeah, his sadistic tendencies were not wiped away when he pulled his stunt on the Irminsul. You can’t win them all, I guess.

Anyway, it’s all totally because he likes seeing you suffer. You’re on top of his “pain in the ass” list, after all!

Not because you look adorable when you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion.

Definitely not because he knows you didn’t get enough sleep last night (he heard your friend chastise you about it) and you made a bunch of mistake on your paper.

He DEFINITELY DOES NOT find your tired eyes and sleepy yawns cute (like a very angry cat he DOES NOT want to take care of).

But really, he actually believes in this reasoning. He simply thinks it's schadenfreude.

Man’s smart when scheming but dumb bum when anything else.

He does not catch on to his feelings all that quick. In fact, it took him embarrassingly long.

He had to do a lot of soul searching and experience a ton of jealousy to finally realize that maybe he likes you more than he hates you.

Or rather, he likes you more than he originally allowed himself to like you.

Oh no! It’s the consequences of having a heart because a heart isn’t an object but the accumulation of interactions that build the psyche and emotion! Darn, life lesson! (Wanderer, probably)

The Wanderer decided that he’s going to work on his paper in the archive building today. He’s not in the mood to sit in some shitty cafe and listen to incessant chatter.

Wow, he wished he had chosen the cafe instead.

“Hey! Who told you, you can just take a paper out of the archive and waltz your merry way home? Give that back. Right now!”

“I thought we were friends,” Kaveh mumbled in faux hurt as he stretched his hands out to return the paper to you.

“Archivist first. Friend second,” you huffed out, snatching the scroll of paper out of his hands.

The blond proceeded to clutch his chest and make a scene.

Sometimes you wish you weren’t such good friends with the man. At least then, he’d act civil.

Meanwhile, the Wanderer was watching all this from the front row seat; absolutely soaked with friendly-banter-that-he-misunderstood-as-lovey-dovey-affection. Your interaction with Kaveh spilled over into the splash zone of his seat in the archival building and he hated it.

In his mind, he came up with the conclusion that the heat in his heart is coming from a place of annoyance.

Why are you so loud at 7 in the fucking morning?

Why is the blond one also so loud at 7 in the fucking morning?

Why are you even entertaining guests this early in the morning? Didn’t you refuse him any service when he came this early a few weeks ago?

Why is this guy any special?

Somewhere much deeper in his mind, he thought differently.

I thought you were only grumpy with me.

You said ‘friend’ to him, right?

Why does that ease me slightly?

But you treat me like that too… Am I a ‘friend’ as well?

Why does that hurt even more?

After that moment, his visits get less frequent. When he does visit, though, he keeps things brief and… polite?

You even tried to start up a banter; mentioning something you know (on a normal day) would get his veins popping and kick-start a back-and-forth and then some.

To no avail, he stayed silent and just looked mildly inconvenienced.

This confused you to Celestia and back and then to Celestia again and then back again.

He’s honestly not too sure why he distanced himself from you in the first place.

But hindsight is 20/20 because after a much-needed self-evaluation session (by ‘self’ I mean himself and Nahida) he knows it’s because he doesn’t want a fourth addition to his list of major betrayals.

Not that he’ll actually agree with that statement out loud. But inside, he gets it.

Of course, this understanding is between his own person. You, unfortunately, were completely out of the loop.

You thought you had somehow pissed him off beyond forgiveness or crossed some kind of line.

At one point, you thought that the banter was, in a very weird way, flirting.

But maybe you got it wrong. What if he never saw you as a friend at all, let alone someone he might like.

You decided that if a relationship(?) friendship(?) has to die, then it’s going out with a bang.

*(bang = mutual understanding on what went wrong and peacefully going back to being strangers).

So, you visited him one day. Out of work hours too (mmmm how bold).

The knock on his door broke the puppet out of his cluttered thoughts; thoughts of a certain archivist he misses. Grunting as he stood, he closed the book he pretended to read in favor of opening the door.

“Who is it?”

He opened the door just as the ‘intruder’ reached to knock on the door again. He doesn’t know why you thought that knocking needed that much force but he’s certain it’s way too much.

Anger poked at him as he yelled, “That’s going to bruise, idiot.”

It won’t.

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“You should be! That hurts.”

It did not.

“Not about that! I’m sorry for whatever happened between you and me to make you hate me…”

The fuck?

“You don’t have to forgive me or anything. I get that you have some sort of past to make you that way and I probably overstepped somewhere but… I thought we were friends. I thought if you were to revert back to us being enemies again, at least you’d tell me why…”

The Fuck?

“Is it because you know I like you? If that’s the case, you’re not fully wrong but I can just throw that away because I know you’re probably not looking for something like that and that’s probably the bit where I overstepped and you know I’m not even fully invested in it so really I can just stop!”

The FUCK?

So much for mutual understanding. With how things are going, it’s more of an individual understanding.

You got way too nervous and now things are spilling left and right and he’s not even saying anything?! He’s just staring at you like you grew five heads, each wearing a big ol' hat. You took a breath to continue your long-winded mess of a rant when he clutched your shoulders.

“Stop for a second, will you, motor-mouth.”

You clammed up right away, tears leaking out of your eyes.

“Listen, I’m not going to ever say this again but I like you too. It’s shit and I hate feeling it because… because I’ve never felt before, okay? So, stop talking all that crap about throwing important things away, it's pissing me off.”

You fully started sobbing now. He panicked and pulled you in for a very awkward, very stiff, but very loving hug. Snot got on his robe and cape as you cried your emotions out on him.

He found he didn’t quite mind. He could use less snot, sure, but he was glad you cared this much over him. He's never had anyone worry over him, let alone to the point of crying.

Soon, tears prickled his eyes but it's alright because relief found his heart.

By the way, he did say it again. He said it 1,000 times before your eventual marriage and 5,000 more times but with ‘love’ as a substitute for ‘like’.

What a liar.

a.n. My first ever request and I’m so incredibly chill about it (lies I jumped and screamed slightly). Anyway, I’m not sure what you’d like to see so I made this about how you came to be the wanderer's partner. Send in another one if you want something more specific (I’ll literally smile and break my cheek muscles if you do).

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merakiui · 7 months

Note

Helloooo! I’d like to order a flower bouquet + strawberry ice cream from the misc. menu as well as some lemon squares + custard donuts from the midnight menu for Scaramouche <3

yandere!scaramouche x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, dub-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, friends with benefits, forced pregnancy/baby-trapping (no pronouns; reader has a pussy), modern college au note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

You’re writing a paper.

Sitting at your desk, scrolling through clothes online, you wonder if your meager paycheck will cover the shipping costs. This is all research. Research that is very necessary in the paper-drafting process, of course! You click on an outfit just as Scaramouche looks up from his phone.

Correction. You’re trying to write a paper.

“Great progress. I can really see the thought you put into this.”

“I’m envisioning it as we speak.”

“Yeah? Doesn’t seem to be getting you anywhere.” He sets his phone down and leans closer. “Last I checked you’re not writing about clothes.”

“Last I checked,” you say, mocking him, “I didn’t ask for commentary. Don’t you have anything better to do?”

A smug smile sharpens on his face. “I can think of a few things.”

Groaning, you shove him away. “No way. Not today.”

“Why not? It didn’t seem to bother you that last time when we did it before your lecture. You were so out of it you didn’t want me to leave you alone. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Not my fault I was tired! Don’t tell me you’ve never said and done stupid things when you’re running on three hours of sleep.”

“Not once,” he declares, looking quite proud. As if it’s some grand achievement. Does he want an award? “And even if I was, I wouldn’t be reduced to sugary, sappy putty.”

“I called you ‘sweetheart’ once by mistake. Get over it.”

Scaramouche rests his elbow on the desk, his cheek in his hand. “I don’t think I want to.”

Shutting your laptop, you turn in your chair to face him. “And I don’t think I want to fuck you today.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Oh, you’re gonna do all the work?”

“That’s the plan. Be grateful I’m so good to you,” he teases, leaning closer and closer until—

You block your lips before he can capture them. “I really can’t today. Paper aside, I don’t have any protection and I’m not on birth control right now.”

“It doesn’t have to be inside.” He sits back in his chair, exuding casual confidence. “Unless you want to risk it.”

You try to put enough ice in your glare, but it melts quickly. You really shouldn’t. It’s not a safe day. You really, really shouldn’t…

Scaramouche raises a brow, waiting for your reply.

Despite everything, you’re wheedled into it anyway. You’re not even sure what you want. Is it yes or no? It’s been months since you fell into this arrangement with him—the campus’s infamous lone wolf who goes out of his way to make himself unapproachable. Or, according to your friends, he’s more of a lonely stray cat in need of a friend. Scaramouche had scoffed when you told him that.

Your friends are idiots, he said with a scowl. It only made him look even more like a grumpy cat in need of companionship. Not that you’d ever tell him that. It would only serve to stoke the flames of his ire.

But right now, looking up at him while he ruts into you, sweat sticking in all the right places, his hair falling over his eyes, you’re inclined to agree with that observation. There’s a depth to his gaze that draws you in, a sad glimmer hiding behind the ardor. There’s never been any attachment outside of the bedroom. You’re not even sure if he considers you a friend.

Still, you wonder…

“Scara, do you—” You cut yourself off with a startled gasp, your nails curling into his shoulders. He’s holding you down by your hips, fucking into you like the world’s about to end. “S-Slow down. Wait, I—aah—oh!”

He sucks in a staggered breath through grit teeth, his jaw set firmly. “You’re never going to leave me.”

Your brain stalls out, and suddenly you’re not sure how to respond. He doesn’t lessen the brutal pace at which he thrusts, so you’re forced to piece together a half-coherent answer amidst your groans.

“N-Not anytime soon—mmh… Why? What’s up?”

Scaramouche lifts his head from your neck. A strange smile turns the corners of his lips up. “It’s not a question. I wasn’t giving you a choice.”

You blink back at him, lust-drunk and dazed. The horror edges in, slow and steady like invasive rot. It isn’t until he’s pinning your legs up by your ears to force you into another position that the implication finally catches up to you. You claw at his back with weak strokes, babbling futile protests against his mouth. In response, his cock throbs inside of you, pressed so deep in this position you fear the repercussions. He kisses you with much the same force, insistent on driving you into the mattress—on pinning you here until you finally submit. Until the last of your resolve withers away, stamped out and replaced with something agreeable.

“Even if you wanted to,” he says around a shaky laugh, seeming positively deranged, “you couldn’t.”

You think you should be worried, but you’re so stunned with this development that your brain can’t keep up. Embarrassingly, you cum with a strangled sort of cry, your pussy clenching tight. He hisses through his teeth, fucks you through the high of your orgasm, and then falls with you, his own climax fast like a flash.

You’re panting in the aftermath. What just happened?

Scaramouche keeps you plugged with his cock for as long as he possibly can before he’s sliding out, flaccid and spent. For now, you suspect, for there will certainly be more later if your wits aren’t about you by then.

“Pill,” you mumble, voice hoarse from crying. You shake him, hoping he’ll climb off of you and get to it. “Scaraaa…”

Oddly, for someone who never shows any vulnerability, he clings. “We’ve got time. I’ll get it. Don’t worry.”

You don’t believe him. Not when his hand strays to your stomach. His palm brushes over the area once. He sighs, wholly satisfied.

“We’ve got time…”

Nine months of it, in fact. But that goes unspoken. If not today, there’s always tomorrow. You know he won’t rest until then. Neither will you. Your heart is too big, too soft, for that lonely stray cat, and part of you wonders if he knows that.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere scaramouche #yandere scaramouche x reader #n/sfw #tw: dubcon #tw: forced pregnancy #tw: babytrapping #lunar love hotel 2023

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thisgingerhasnosoul · 1 month

Note

I wish i could send off anon as part of etiquette protocol but honestly a bit terrified of being booted from my internet circles for not buying into the “antizionism isnt antisemitism” bcs theyre functionally my interpersonal lifeline… Well, anyway.

I hope it’s okay to approach you asking for a masterpost of some kind that compiles a refutation of all the common claims made about zionism on here. I’ve researched the issue on my own in my own time, but the google search bar only gets you so far. I know much more about how palestinians have been affected by/view the ongoing genocide than i do about israelis and diaspora jews, and of course pro-israel reporting is generally not done to push back on antisemitism. It would be invaluable for me to have a resource i could reference offhand— please dont feel pressured to put any particular effort into this request, however. I simply felt that, at this stage, rather than reading more history and theory, it would be more meaningful to ask an actual jewish person for their views. You are just one person and i dont intend to merely use jewish people as an educational resource and nothing else, and i apologize upfront if you feel this is what i am doing.

Stay strong ❤️ these times are surely taxing for you amd other jewish tumblr users

Okay, it’s great that you want to learn more, anon, but I’m really kind of frustrated with your framing here. This flare up of violence literally started with ~1500 people—mostly Jews—being raped, tortured, kidnapped, and murdered. The immediate response to it was celebration, denial, and whataboutisms, followed by an increase in diaspora antisemitism unseen since the lead up to the Holocaust, including multiple instances of murder and sexual violence. And that isn’t even touching on the fact that half of all Jews are still under attack by Iran and their proxies (which includes the perpetrators of the October 7th attack), whose only goal is to wipe them out. So like, how exactly do you think this has affected us?

And look, I’m probably just tired and grouchy after my second 4 hour visit to urgent care in a week, but the point is that I’m just not in a place to find resources for you—especially because it feels like you’ll probably just write them off as “pro-Israel.” That said, if any of my mutuals are willing, be my guest.

#idk I’m frustrated and tired and probably not being very fair to anon #so do your thing beloved mutuals #ask response #antisemitism #jumblr #i/p #leftist antisemitism

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hopeluna · 7 months

Text

!! Fic Recs

Most of these are long fics or series and some of these are 18+ so be aware? But anyways, enjoy these works from absolute writing angels <33

Jujutsu Kaisen

Symptoms & Causes by @lostfracturess

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

Love Entries by @chuluoyi

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: series of episodes of your life with the strongest sorcerer throughout the past and present

men are so quick to blame the gods by @awearywritersworld

Sukuna x reader

Synopsis: your boyfriend is a heavy sleeper, leaving you to form an unlikely relationship with the curse occupying his body during the late hours of the night.

wanna be yours by @nezuscribe

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?

his kiss, the riot by @nezuscribe

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: the king has been struck by never-ending grief when he found out about his wife's infidelity. he has her ordered to be killed, but afterward, he is no longer the same. every night he marries a woman, and every morning he has her killed. the endless cycle continues until the night you're chosen to be his wife. instead of letting him ruin you, you tell him a story. you tell him a story that he just has to know the ending to. and so begins the story of one thousand and one arabian nights.

i'd crawl home to her by @likelilacwine

Geto Suguru x reader

Summary: the god of the underworld brings his most valued prize home at the risk of tearing the realm itself apart.

Boku No Hero Academia

@andypantsx3

Yes, her entire blog. Pls each and every series of her is god send. I cannot reccomend this to you enough!!

pretty white dress by @gaybybirth

Dabi x reader

Synopsis: You're shelving books like normal at work when a new face comes into the store. And in a small town where everyone knows each other, a new face really stands out. Especially when it's one that makes you burn in ways you never have.

FILL MY LITTLE WORLD (RIGHT UP) by @shibaraki

Aizawa Shouta x reader

Synopsis: you are employed by aizawa shouta to nanny for his vulnerable adoptive daughter eri while he’s at work. as time passes you find yourself equally smitten with them both, longing for a more permanent place in their family.

please save me by @hitoshiyoshi

Platonic!young!shimura tenko x reader

Synopsis: you save shimura tenko

Stranger Things

Not Wholly Evil by @uglypastels

Eddie Munson x reader

Synopsis: as the daughter of the Governor, there is quite a heavy prize set on your safe return home, and the captain will not let anything come between him and his bounty.

As you wish by @corroded-hellfire

Eddie Munson x reader

Synopsis: When Eddie isn’t appreciated like he should be, his babysitter feels the need to step in and comfort him.

Living After Midnight by @munson-blurbs

Eddie Munson x reader

Synopsis: Being a perpetual people-pleaser meant that you were constantly putting others before yourself--particularly your parents and the eccentric guests who stayed at their motel. But when a surly and mysterious musician checked in indefinitely, he flipped your whole world on its head.

Please do tell me if you want to be removed from this for whatever reason!!

#♡! hope's diary #support banner by @/saradika-graphics #lace divider by @benkeibear

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lycheeloving · 8 months

Text

Another multiverse yandere!Bruce fic, with special guest the Flash! It kind of got away from me and Bruce isn't even in this a lot... but I still love it tbh

again, i imagine this being at a time where you've been with Bruce for some time and have mostly accepted that you won't be getting away from him

Once again warning for typical yandere stuff, kidnapping, implied past noncon, minors dni. Oh and gn reader!

You're in the Batcave, sitting on Bruce's lap while he's typing away on his Batcomputer, researching something. He's in full Batman costume, which is hard and uncomfortable to sit on, but at least you're only sitting there and "warming him up" (as he puts it), instead of cockwarming him. Gotta be grateful for the little things. Actually, it's more like he's warming you up, because the suit must be warmer than what you're wearing (which isn't a lot), but, whatever, same difference.

At some point he pushes you off, stands up, growls out a "Don't touch anything, I'll be back soon," and proceeds to rush out of the cave in the Batmobile. Did he just leave you alone in the cave? Right next to all of his gadgets and the supercomputer?? You consider trying to contact the outside world for a second before coming to the conclusion that this must be a test, no way is he leaving you here alone if there's actually a way for you to get help! Probably.

Right as you've decided not to touch anything, the screen starts flashing with: "Incoming Video Call: Batman". What? Is he seriously calling you now? He's definitely trying to trick you into touching something, just so he'll have an excuse to punish you. No way are you falling for that! You're absolutely not going to push the button that would accept the call, even though it's glowing so enticingly... Also, what if he really needs your help (even though you have no clue what you could do to help Batman) and will punish you for not answering? Or better yet, he's seriously injured and you'll get to watch him die. That thought gets you to accept the video call.

...That's not Batman.

You stare at the guy who called you, and he's staring right back at you, seemingly just as confused as you are. Is that the Flash?? Isn't he supposed to be dead?

"...You're not Batman," he mumbles mostly to himself, then starts talking a bit louder. "I mean, I guess you could be Batman? I just was expecting you to look like more like my Batman. Not that he's my Batman, just, the Batman from my universe, I mean. Sorry. Are you Batman? You could totally be Batman, and just not be wearing the suit at the moment!"

"...I'm not ...Batman, he's... out, right now. You're the Flash, right? How are you- Why did it say Batman was calling? Wait, what do you mean by your universe??" This is too much information for you to process at the same time.

"Oh! Um, I'm from a parallel universe! Bruce somehow got his computer to be able to contact people in other universes and I'm pretty sure he built a portal thing, too... Anyways, I'm in the Batcave right now because Bruce is still on his way back and sent me ahead to call you, or, well, your Batman, to 'save some time', but I guess that was useless because Batman isn't here..." He stops rambling for a second, before adding: "Also I'm beginning to think Bruce just wanted to get rid of me, nothing we're doing currently is that time sensitive, and-"

"Wait, back up, did you say portal?" You cut him off before he can start monologuing again, sniffing an opportunity for escape. "Hypothetically, if someone were to go through that portal, could they stay in the other universe indefinitely, or would the universe or the person that went through the portal start falling apart or something...?"

"I don't think there's any issues with staying in a parallel universe! It's pretty cool, actually, the-" He stops himself from saying anything else. "Wait, who are you? I probably shouldn't be telling you all this. Are you, like, in a relationship with Bats? I mean, who else could get into the cave. And you're not wearing villain-who-broke-into-Batmans-lair clothes... or sidekick clothes..." He mumbles the last part to himself.

You can't stop staring at him. Just who is this guy? In spite of the weirdness of the situation it's actually really refreshing to be able to talk to someone who isn't completely stoic all the time (and hasn't kidnapped you). "I guess relationship is the most accurate? I mean, being kidnapped, locked up and kept as a fucktoy is a type of relationship, right?"

You say it as nonchalantly as possible, watching for his reaction to see if he thinks kidnapping people is normal, but it's looking good for you, because he's gaping like a fish out of water. "Y- Youre- by Batman? Bruce? That's- I don't-" He stutters, before awkwardly chuckling. "Ohhh, you're joking, right? You got me good, I almost believed you... Ha ha..." He doesn't seem entirely convinced.

You stare at him unblinkingly. What must his Batman be like for him not to believe you? Certainly nicer than yours. "Look, believe whatever you want, but could you do me a favor and open that portal? Bruce said he'd be back soon and I'd rather not be here when that happens, because he told me not to touch anything and instead of listening to him I answered your video call. He'll be super mad at me. Oh and this is the only real chance of escape I've ever gotten so I'd like to take it, please."

Something about the way you said it must have convinced him to believe you, as he mutters a quiet "...Alright," and before you can blink, he skids to a halt behind you through the already opened portal. Well, at least there's no doubt about him being the Flash, that was fast!

"Whew, that portal thing was harder to activate than I thought!" Thank god for super speed, you didn't even realize he was struggling with it. "So, um, what now? Do you just... come with me to the other Batcave?"

You look at him with stars in your eyes. Is this what it's like to be rescued by a superhero? You could cry, are you actually going to escape? No, not yet, you might trust him, but what about the other Batman in his universe?

"Sorry, just, are you sure your Batman isn't, like, secretly evil? Not keeping anyone locked up in his stupid manor?" He shakes his head vigorously. "I'm sure! He wouldn't- I know him, he would never even think about kidnapping anyone! And I definitely would know if there was someone locked in his manor, I've run through every room in his place way too often as to not have noticed someone trapped in there. He's a good guy, just, kind of stoic. And he hates fun. But he wouldn't hurt a fly! You know, unless it's an evil fly that needs to be stopped..."

Hm. Yeah, your Batman definitely hurts you sometimes and you're 99% sure you're not a supervillain or otherwise evil. "That sounds... convincing enough." You remember your shock bracelet and gesture towards it. "Um, could you please take this off of me first, before we go? It shocks me as soon as it detects that I've left the manor, and I don't want to find out if a parallel universe manor counts..."

He tries his best not to look as shocked as he feels while he inspects it carefully, then goes: "Um, wait a second, let me just-". He disappears and reappears in a flash. "So, I checked to see if maybe there's a manual for this thing somewhere, but I couldn't find anything. So I went through the entire manor, and guess what else I didn't find... Alfred!!" You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "I guess that's what made your Batman so unhinged, sometimes I think Alfred is the only thing left standing between Batman and utter darkness..." This Alfred guy must be a total ray of sunshine then, you can't wait to meet him.

"So, what are we going to do about the shock bracelet, then? I'd rather not be in pain the entire time, but if you can't get it off that's still fine, as long as I can come with you..." "Oh, um, let me just-" Again, faster than you can blink he does something and the bracelet falls away from your wrist. Unfortunately, right as it hits the floor, an alarm goes off in the cave. Shit. You both grimace at each other, you should have know that the bracelet would send some kind of signal to Bruce as soon as it's no longer connected to you.

"Can you somehow disable his portal-making machine so he can't immediately follow us? Because I think we should leave right now, he's probably on his way back already!" You immediately go through the portal, not wanting to wait any longer. Even if Bruce can follow you, you'll have people protecting you on the other side. You think you can hear the Batmobile returning. Shit.

"Yeah, I should be able to-" You close your eyes and when you open them again, the portal to your universe is gone. A weight falls off your shoulders. "I messed with some wires on the other side, which closed the portal, but I was able to get back here just in time before it fully closed. He shouldn't be able to follow us. At least not immediately, he probably knows how to fix it, but this should buy us some time."

"Thank you so much. And I'm glad you made it back, I wouldn't want you to end up like the other Flash..." You sigh in relief. "The- What? What happened to the other Flash??" "Oh! Um, he's dead." You grimace sheepishly. "Sorry, that must be weird to hear."

His face goes pale. "You know what? I'm not even gonna ask what happened to him. I don't want to know. No, wait, I do want to know, how did he- No, don't tell me, whatever I say, do not tell me what happened to him."

You go to respond, but are interrupted by a sudden, loud: "Flash! Who is that?"

You flinch at the sound of his voice and turn around to face him. The Batman. Bruce Wayne. He only sounds like that when he's really angry. Your entire body screams at you to run and hide, or better yet, to apologize and beg. You've learned that hiding from him is pointless. He always finds you, and it only makes things worse. You freeze and stare at him with wide eyes, while he eyes you suspiciously. It's not him, you remind yourself. It's not him. He just looks the same.

He stops looking at you and turns to Flash instead. "You were supposed to contact the other Batman, not kidnap some terrified civilian." The Flash looks insulted for a second, before responding with an indignant: "Actually, I'm not the one who kidnapped them!". Batman narrows his eyes, then sighs. "Just explain why you thought it was a good idea to let a stranger into the Batcave."

You take half a step behind Flash before he begins explaining. "Turns out your other Batman kept them locked up! Your source for information and help is a kidnapper! Why are you even working with that guy? Did you know?" To his credit, Batman actually looks guilty after hearing that. "I didn't know, but I have to admit, I didn't look into him as much as I could have. Should have. Usually I look into every single detail of someone's life before working with them, but him looking and acting exactly like me must have made me lower my guard. It won't happen again, I assure you." He looks at you apologetically. Well, as apologetic as the Batman can look, which isn't very much, mostly he just looks stoic. But still, not an expression you've ever seen on your Batman, nor something he would ever say. You calm down a bit. This guy won't hurt you.

"So, um, is there anything we can do to stop him from following us?" You speak up quietly. "I mean, Flash messed with his portal machine or whatever it's called, but that won't stop him forever! He's obsessed with me, he won't just give up!" You start panicking again, maybe you were wrong to think you could ever be free.

"We'll think of something, I promise. We'll keep you safe. You have the whole Justice League on your side." The Flash nods in agreement to Batmans statement. You tentatively start feeling hopeful again, even if this doesn't work out, you'll at least have gotten a taste of freedom.

#sorry for the abrupt ending and also if some of this doesn't make sense 🙏#wait no I'll stop apologizing for my writing. Hope you have as much fun reading as I had writing this!!#yandere batman #batman x reader #yandere batfam #yandere #x reader #reader insert #yandere dc #lycheewritings #yandere!batman #yandere bruce wayne #yandere!bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #dark!bruce wayne #dark!batman #dark bruce wayne #dark batman

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kelcemenow · 1 year

Text

Call Her Daddy.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 829

Warnings Sexual references, fluff and strong language...obviously.

I hope I've done this one right! I've never heard of the podcast, nor have I listened to it but I did a some research and just went for it! "Hello first of all I’m a huge fan of your work, I have an idea in mind hope you like it. Y/n and travis have been dating for a bit just there close friends know about the relationship and Alex copper a close friend of the reader invites them on her podcast call her daddy where they talk about there relationship/sex life"

"Okay, next question. What is your favourite sexual position?"

You hummed in thought, "I love being on top." You smiled at Alex who nodded in agreement, "There's something about being on top that gives me a sense of power, isn't there? It's a bit dominating."

"Would you say that you like being in the more dominant role in the bedroom?" Alex questioned.

"Sometimes." You giggled, "But on the flipside, I really like being thrown around, you know? Like...lifted up, thrown onto the bed, pushed up against the wall, carried around...that's what I want."

Alex fanned her face with her hand, "Phew, you're speaking the truth here Y/N. So, I promised an exclusive scoop earlier to everybody and I think it's about time that we get to that. Y/N is not my only guest on this episode, we have someone joining us, don't we?"

You laughed, "Yeah, I've been seeing some rumours flying around regarding my dating life and I gotta be honest, a lot of people are getting it all wrong!"

"Gotta love those rumours!"

"So, when Alex asked me to come on Call Her Daddy, I thought it was the perfect time to set the record straight. Plus, I'm going on tour soon and he'll be at quite a few shows so everyone will figure it out eventually anyway."

"So, our guest is someone that you're dating?"

You smiled and adjusted your headphones, "Yeah, we've been dating for a while now and so far, it's only family and close friends that have known about it but we agreed that it's probably time to let everyone else know."

Alex leaned into her microphone, "Just for full transparency, I knew!"

"Yeah you were one of the first people that I told, I couldn't keep that secret from you!"

"Id' have gotten it out of you eventually, I'm good at that!" Alex cleared her throat, "Right, let's not keep everyone waiting for much longer. Daddy Gang, our extra special guest on today's episode is none other than...Travis Kelce!"

You both gave Travis a round of applause as he placed headphones over his ears and smiled into the microphone, "Alright now!"

You grinned and placed your hand on his leg, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Alex took a sip from her water, "Okay, now Travis, you're not new to the podcast scene, we all know that."

Travis snickered, "Nah, I feel at home like this! But I gotta say, New Heights is completely different. You know, me and Jason don't talk about what I think we're going to be talking about here!"

"Yeah, that would be weird!" You laughed.

"Right, let's get straight to it. What's the sexiest thing about Y/N?"

"Oh wow, no messing around here, baby!" He rubbed his beard, "The sexiest thing about my girl?"

"You can only pick one!" Alex lifted an eyebrow.

"That's not easy. Honestly, I think she's the sexiest woman in the world. She could be folding laundry and I'm still mesmerised by her! But the sexist thing about her is definitely how ambitious she is. She has worked her fucking ass off to get what she has got and what makes it even better, is that she did it all herself. I love watching her perform, because I can see what it means to her and how much she has sacrificed to be able to do it. It's amazing, man."

Your lips curled into a huge smile, a wave of happiness washing over you.

"Aww guys, you're going to make me cry! And that's not the vibe I was going for! We want the juicy details!"

Travis mumbled, "Oh...umm...her ass?"

You and Alex both laughed loudly.

"Is that's what you wanted?" Travis looked to Alex who was clutching at her stomach.

"I liked your first answer, baby." You placed your arm gently around his shoulders and traced circles on the back of his neck with your finger.

"I'm sure a lot of people will want to know how you two manage to date with your busy schedules."

You clasped your hands together, "It's difficult, it really is. But we make sure that we keep some time aside for each other. Even if it is just sitting down to have breakfast together or an hour long phone call."

"Technology helps. We like Facetime, we use that one a lot." Travis agreed.

Alex grinned a mischievous smile, "Do the Facetime calls ever get a bit heated...a bit explicit?"

You glanced at Travis with a knowing look, "If I said no-"

"She's be lying." He said loudly.

Your mouth flew open in shock and Alex clapped her hands together, "I knew it!"

"Oh, come on" We're all adults here, we know how those calls can end up sometimes. If Travis calls me shirtless, chances are I'm gonna get a bit...distracted. I Facetimed him from the shower last week." Your cheeks were beginning to deepen in colour, "My God, how do you get this information out of people?!"

______________________________________________________________

I hope that was okay! As always, your comments and messages are always appreciated! You're all too kind! I'll be working through some more requests this week (whenever I have some spare time) and if you want to be added to my Taglist, just let me know!

Taglist @rd14 @dandelionwrites8 @keiva1000 @fantasywritersstuff @caelipartem @anacarangel @she-lives-in-her-dreams @kkrenae @kristencochefski1125 @countrygirl120983 @killatravtramp @charmed2000 @nouis-bum @cixrosie @delicateearthquakellama @wordsaresimple-imnot @amylouwho9 @queenisa17 @talicat713 @luvvtrent @purecinnamonextract @savaneafricaine @caelipartem @beyxgrande @caitdaniels @ezgirl1108 @vir-tual @lightsoutstyles

#travis kelce x reader #travis kelce imagine #kelce x reader #nfl imagine #original story #travis kelce fic #travis kelce #nfl fluff #travis kelce fluff #kelcemenow requests

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scaredpigeons · 8 months

Text

Aqua Regia V: Subatomic interactions

Previous chapter // Next chapter // First chapter

Neuvillette x fem!reader

Word count: 3.6k

You confirm a few theories, resulting in a delicate moment between the two of you, and learn more about what the hell has been going on the past few months, as much as you’d like to deny yourself.

Authors note: some subtle zhongchi references, cuz I’m literally insatiable and have been reading a bit of zhongchi in my spare time. I think they’re cute :) also Neuvillettes instincts are so fucking cute to me, AND THE PURRING??? Yessir

“So, Neuvillette. You’re not human, are you?”

His gaze snapped to you, your face illuminated by the fire. He’d read somewhere in a book that sitting alone with someone in a dark room, hiding from a storm with the comfort of a fire was an intimate setting, but that really wasn’t his intention.

The lights in his living room had just been replaced, but he found the harsh white lights of the new bulbs too stark and sterile, and was used to reading by candlelight anyways, so he preferred to keep the lights off, even when he didn’t have guests, which was…. Always.

You were the first guest he’d had in his home in his most recent memory, any others being the melusine, and well— lady furina, on the odd occasion.

“What gave you that impression?” He would not outright confirm or deny your observation, just hoping to skate by this encounter without incident.

Every terrible burning instinct in his body was satiated in this moment, for the first time in months— he didn’t feel like he was actively losing his mind.

Yes, there were a few more troubling thoughts, like how looking at you swaddled in his clothing made something inside him want to purr, or how he desperately wanted to take you and put you down in his nest, surrounded by all the other things he treasures most.

Do I treasure her? He thought.

As much as he wanted to refuse himself, he knew it to be true. He valued you above most things these days, and having you in his home seemed to calm him, though he couldn’t fathom entirely why.

“Well, based on my observations over the past few months, local history, and some interesting conversations with the melusines, I’ve got a couple theories.” You said simply, lifting the cup of tea he’d brought you a few minutes ago to take a sip. He hadn’t wanted to leave your side, but after a while of sitting and not speaking, you had asked politely for it, so he had to oblige.

“And what theories have you come up with?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“In the beginning, before I came to work for you, there were many among us who thought perhaps you were the true hydro archon in disguise, with Lady Furina just being a figurehead of sorts. But of course, after the trial of the hydro archon and the flood, we all learned that to be untrue. With the limited information that was leaked to the public, we all learned that furina had been standing in on behalf of the hydro archon as a figurehead, yes—but only to circumvent the prophecy in some way— to save us. But that still left you.”

He found that he truly enjoyed listening to you speak. Your voice was soothing, and hearing your thoughts made something within him very calm, satiated. He nodded for you to continue.

“After getting to know you, it became clear to me that you aren’t human, though anyone who can pick up a historical text would know that based on the amount of years you’ve spent being the Honorable Iudex, of course.” You paused to look at him, and he found himself feeling a bit flush at how intently your gaze trailed across his face. He’d not felt flustered in another’s prescience like this in a very long time.

“Your mannerisms, your demeanor, it was all very curious to me, so I did some research. And well…” you wrung your hands in your lap before clutching back onto the blanket he’d placed around you. “To make a long story short, and please, don’t laugh or be upset with me, I mean, it could be very far fetched but—“

He called out your name, gently silencing your stammering. “Please, I will not be offended or upset by anything you have to say to me.”

You let out a breath, steadying yourself. “Neuvillette, are you perhaps… the hydro dragon of legend, taken human form?”

He blinked at you.

His heart lurched at how perceptive you were, how much thought must have gone into this conclusion. You said you’d watched his mannerisms, you’d done research? And you came to the correct answer because it was you.

Of course you would.

Suddenly, he felt a chuckle pull from his chest, and he laughed into the dimly lit living room as you stared at him.

“You are… truly mesmerizing.” He said, voice light and still ringing with his amusement. He once again smelled that sweet aroma that seemed to follow you, but brushed it off. “I cannot believe that you came to such a conclusion on your own. You didn’t speak to the traveler, did you?”

“What?” You said, scrunching your nose a bit. “No, of course not! I read a couple books I bought from Liyue on dragons, and the similarities were just too much to ignore!” You scooted closer, facing him head on now. “Are you saying I'm correct?”

He laughed again, unable to stop himself. “Incredibly so. Though I wouldn’t say I've ‘taken human form’. For reasons unknown to even me, I was born in this form. I’ve learned to shape it throughout the years to better fit into human society, but there are a few things that refuse to leave.”

He sheepishly looks up and to the side, gesturing to his horns with his eyes. He knows they are slender and sleek, and to the uninterested eye, could be mistaken for some kind of hair ornament.

“Oh!” You said, sitting even closer, your eyes burning with excitement. “I’ve always wondered what they were! Are they horns? May I…” your hand reached out, only for you to pull it back harshly.

His chest ached.

“I’m sorry, that's rather inappropriate of me, I shouldn’t ask.” You said, dejected and pulling away.

His body screamed for you to be closer, and so he obliged.

“There’s no need to worry, you’re just curious. You may touch them, if you’d like.” He said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Your eyes sparkled once more, and you smiled brightly at him. “Really?”

He nodded, bending forward a bit to bring his head more level to you.

He held his breath as you reached out your hand, and when your soft skin brushed against the base of his horn, his spine nearly buckled.

He didn’t touch his horns often. They were soft, sleek and malleable, not a traditional type of horn, not like other dragons. If he had to describe them, they’re more similar to antennae than anything else, soft yet firm, perfect to trail behind him in the water for ease of swimming.

He occasionally touches them when styling his hair, but mostly they lay unbothered on his head, maybe getting squeezed between his back and a chair every now and then when he wasn’t paying attention, but it was rare.

So when your delicate hand stroked along the smooth skin of his left horn, he had to keep his composure, because it was the most pleasurable thing he’d felt in a very long time, perhaps even ever.

You cooed your amazement at him, your fingertips stroking gently down to the tip of the top most tine, and his body let loose an involuntary shiver, which he hoped you didn’t notice.

When you slipped your hand further and brushed along down towards the bottom tine he steadied his spine, ignoring the throbbing between his legs and bracing himself, though he had no idea how to stop the violent purring noise that rumbled from his chest.

You certainly had noticed that, jumping back a bit on the couch, most likely startled.

“Oh!” You said, holding your wrist with your other hand.

He cleared his throat, forcing himself to stop before it got even more out of hand, so incredibly embarrassed.

“Ah— my apologies. I forgot how sensitive they can be.”

“Thats… did you…. Was that a purr?”

He could quite literally feel the heat rising to his face, and he was sure he looked so childish in this moment.

“Ah, well. You see… I—“ he stammered. “Yes?”

Much to his surprise and enjoyment, you let a bright giggle loose into the dark room, falling back into the cushions as it overtook you.

He stared, eyes surely shining as you laughed and laughed, and he nearly didn’t notice the rumbling start up once more, coughing seconds too late to cover it.

“Dragons purr when they are content?” You giggled, trying to right yourself. “Like cats?”

He could feel the tips of his ears heating up, how embarrassing. Yet the gentle smile on your face was anything but mocking.

In fact, he thought you looked rather intrigued, interested in learning more.

“Ah, yes.” He tried to look anywhere but you, hoping you weren’t paying too much attention to his other bodily reactions. “Content, among other things.”

“That's fascinating! How have you managed to hide that all this time? I’ve never once heard you slip up before!” You leaned forward in your excitement, eyes sparkling with wonder.

His eyes wandered across your face, falling to your lips, so soft looking, such a warm smile.

“Well, I’ve not…” he didn’t have the words, didn’t understand how to explain that you were changing him. That he was losing control of himself with every passing moment he was surrounded with your presence.

“No one has been so close to me in a very long time.” He murmured, watching the breath catch in your chest. “No one has touched me with a gentle hand in centuries.”

Now that he’d let the words slip from his lips, he realized the magnitude of their meaning. Yes, he was incredibly touch starved. He just hadn’t noticed until he found himself craving your touch.

He watched his words register in your mind, the gears turning as your eyes welled.

“Neuvillette, sir…” you sounded sad for him, of course you did. You were always so caring and empathetic.

“My apologies, I shouldn’t have burdened you with the weight of such a statement.” He scrambled to try and rectify this, to bring that smile back to your lips.

“No, sir, it’s—“ you squeezed your eyes shut, probably willing away your sadness. Something you did often when your emotions became to large, one of your little quirks he found so incredibly endearing. “This may be inappropriate of me to ask, but may I be a gentle hand?”

He gaped at you.

“I—“ you stammered. “That came out wrong, I mean… what I meant to say—“

“Yes, if you wouldn’t mind.” He cut you off, something he didn’t often do. “I’d like that very much.”

You blinked, visibly swallowing as you settled down beside him, facing him directly. Your delicate hand reached up, just a simple press of your palm to his cheek, nothing more.

A swell of emotions surged through him, so much that he couldn’t regulate himself, and he leaned into the touch as a single tear fell from his eye. The storm continued to rage outside, though he wasn’t certain it was his doing any longer. Perhaps a merciful act of Focalors from the beyond to keep you here with him for as long as possible.

“Will you… teach me more about dragons?” You said, moving your hand to run your fingers through the loose hair by his temple.

A deep purr rumbled through his chest, and your smile returned.

————

At some point during the night, you’d fallen asleep to the sound of Neuvillette’s voice.

In your lax lucidity, you remember him moving you to lay properly on the couch, a soft pillow beneath your head and another warm blanket that smelled like him.

He pulled it over your shoulder, and you had thought that perhaps he’d kiss you, nothing salacious, perhaps a peck on the forehead or cheek. He hesitated for a moment, but you’d kept your eyes closed, hoping.

But ever the gentleman, he’d just stepped away to leave you to sleep, and you’d drifted back off into a pleasant slumber.

A few months had passed since that evening, and you wish you could say your relationship to Neuvillette hadn’t changed, but you’d be telling a blatant lie.

You sat at Cafe Lutece with Miss Navia, a rare treat since she was so busy. She had a meeting with the traveler this afternoon however, and invited you to join.

A cute, high pitched voice called out your name and Navia’s, and you turned to see Lumine and her companion Paimon wave as they came closer.

They sat down, exchanging greetings with you as they settled and ordered their drinks.

Paimon said your name once more, grabbing your attention from your plate of macarons. “That's a beautiful necklace! Paimon’s never seen you wear something so fancy!”

You smiled, looking down and touching it gently with your fingertips. A delicate silver chain holding an intricate casing that held a large tear drop shaped condensed crystal surrounded by other glittering gems. They reflected the sunlight beautifully, and Paimon was right, you’d never owned a necklace so beautiful before.

“Ah, thank you.” You said. “It was a gift from Neuvillette, he gave it to me after I gave him a couple books I’d purchased from Liyue.”

“Oh, how lovely!” Navia cooed. “I was going to ask where it came from but I didn’t want to seem rude.”

You waved her off, telling her it wasn’t a big deal, but her furrowed brow said she had more on her mind.

“Say, didn’t Neuvillette also gift you that pocket watch you had last time I saw you?” She asked.

“Ah,” you flushed. “Well, yes, but that was only after I found the most beautiful shell one afternoon by the beach, it reminded me of the colors of his broach, so I figured he’d like it!”

Navia’s grin turned mischievous, and her eyes thinned with mirth. “Didn’t he also get you a new raincoat after yours got that nasty tear in it?”

You scrambled to remember why he had done that, what you had given him that had warranted that particular gift. You took a sip of your tea as you stalled. Suddenly, the usually silent traveler spoke up.

“When did you and Neuvillette start courting?”

You nearly spat your tea all over her, face heating up as if you’d steeped your water with pyro flower stamens and not herbal green.

“Pardon me?” You coughed. “Courting? What makes you think that we’re courting?”

Lumine looked a little chuffed, smirking a bit behind a gloved hand.

“Dragons view acts of service and gift giving as acts of courtship. You didn’t know this?”

“No?” You squeaked. Your books on dragons had a section on mating, but you’d been too embarrassed to even consider reading that chapter.

“Paimon’s seen this all before. An acquaintance of ours had been giving another dragon we know all kinds of gifts and mora, only to find out far too late what he was actually doing!”

“I think Zhongli knew he didn’t understand, Paimon. He didn’t seem too broken up when Childe left.” Lumine says, rolling her eyes.

“But Paimon has seen the weird longing looks he gives Childe! Mr. Zhongli isn’t very subtle.” Paimon turned to you, looking a little frustrated. “Does Monsieur Neuvillette look at you all longing and googly eyed too?”

You were sure your face could not be anymore red.

Lumine frowned at her floating friend. “Paimon, that’s not a very nice question to ask, I mean look at her— she didn’t even know they were courting!”

“Oh gods.” Your mind was going a million steps a minute. “I’ve brought him lunch every day for months.”

“Oh boy.” Paimon sighed.

“I had water specially ordered from a volcanic spring in Natlan! In the middle of a Warzone!” Your voice was getting louder. You clutched your coat further around your frame, shaking.

Lumine cringed, and Navia started laughing.

“I knew it!” She said, looking between your shrinking form and Lumine and back to you. “I knew he was head over heels for you, I was just waiting until you realized!”

You popped a macaron into your mouth, but the flavor was wrong, everything was on high alert, your face was hot. You pushed your plate towards Paimon, knowing her love of snacks.

“Here, Paimon, you can have these.” You stood, ignoring Paimon’s squeals of glee and Navias voice of concern, asking you where you were going.

The cold November breeze washed through you, and you clutched your coat tighter once more.

Your lunch break was over soon, you had to get back to the Palais before Neuvillette had trial prep.

Oh gods. How were you going to face him? Did he even know what he was doing? He’d expressed to you that he was unsure about a lot of things about his own species, but was he unaware of the courting customs?

You ignored the odd looks people gave you as you shuffled along. Before you realized, your feet had carried you to the Palais, and straight into Neuvillettes office.

He was there, sitting at his desk and sorting through the folder you had compiled this morning for today's trial.

“Good afternoon,” he smiled, “did your lunch break with Miss Navia go well?”

You froze, eyes wide. You looked around his office, noting the little gifts and trinkets you had gotten him, though not all of them. The shell sat on his desk, the books on his bookshelf. There was a framed picture of you and a bunch of the melusine that Sedene had given you, and you had asked to hang it up in here, so you could see it at work and be reminded of the moment. He’d been particularly happy to do so.

You thought back to all the gifts he’d given you, all the lingering looks and soft and innocent touches that may not have been as accidental as you thought.

He seemed distracted, much to your relief.

“It went fine,” you cleared your throat. “I saw the Traveler and Paimon for the first time in a while, which was nice.”

“Good, good.” He said, pulling an envelope out of his desk drawer. “Speaking of The Traveler—“

He rounded his desk, and you did your best to steady your spine as he walked towards you, tall and intimidating but oh so handsome. Your knees felt weak.

“It seems that The Traveler, Lady Furina and Sedene have been conspiring against me, and are planning a ball of sorts for my birthday next month.”

Your attention was caught, and you perked up. “Oh? I didn’t know it was your birthday soon, I’m sorry.”

He chuckled, something he did a lot more often around you these days.

“Worry not, my dear. Sedene asked me to give you this, which is an invitation to a preparation meeting. It seems they would enjoy it if my most cherished assistant was involved in the planning.”

You flushed, he’d been saying things like that more often, calling you dear, telling you that he cherished and valued you. Were you just realizing this now?

“Oh,” you said, trying to make sure your voice didn’t shake as your thighs twitched. “I’m glad.”

Neuvillettes pupils dilated, and you could tell he was trying to hide it, but his deep inhale was a telltale sign that he could smell that sweet smell he’d mentioned lingered around you.

You still hadn’t had the gall to tell him what exactly it was, prove your theory that he was literally smelling your arousal, your fluster—because your shame was too great to allow you otherwise.

Besides, he’d stopped mentioning it a while ago, but you could tell when he could smell it. You could tell.

You wanted to smack your cheeks. But you took the envelope, shivering slightly when his warm fingers brushed yours, the fabric of his gloves was so soft.

“So, is there anything you would like me to incorporate into this ball that would make you happy?” You asked, wanting to move past the throbbing feeling that came whenever he complimented you.

He breathed deeply again, and you could almost see a twinge of pink dust his cheeks.

“Ah, well— if I had it my way, there wouldn’t be a ball at all.”

“Oh?” You said.

“I do not think I need to be celebrated in such an ostentatious manner, but Lady Furina insisted that because we held so many birthday balls for her throughout her reign, it was only fitting that I have at least one.”

You smirked, watching his fluster deepen. “Well I have to agree with Lady Furina, our honorable leader should be celebrated at least once in his new reign.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes a bit as he turned away from you. Such a personal act he would not have been caught dead doing mere months ago, but it seemed he was getting more and more comfortable with you by the day.

“I simply do not think it worth the splendor.” He walked back towards his desk, sitting down to go over his files once more.

“So there's nothing specific you’d like me to do for you?” You insisted.

“Ah, if you must,” he sighed. “Absolutely no fried foods, please. And—“ he gave a sharp tsk, pinching his brow.

“What is it, sir?”

He shook his head. “Forgive me for saying this, for the sake of it sounding incredibly childish, but if there is Fonta served at this celebration, I will simply leave.”

You smirked, holding in a laugh that you so desperately wanted to release.

“No fried foods, no fonta. Got it.” You turned to leave, but lingered when he called your name to get your attention once more.

“Yes?”

“You’ll be attending, yes?”

You froze, realizing that yes, it would be quite obscene of you to not attend a ball you were helping to organize, but you have absolutely no idea what you’re going to wear.

“Of course, Monsieur Neuvillette.” You smiled, that was a problem for another day.

He seemed to relax, sighing in relief. “Good, it will be much more bearable with you there with me.”

#neuvillette fluff #neuvillette x female reader #neuvillette x reader #genshin impact neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #neuvillette #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin impact

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kurogane2512 · 7 months

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Evening, so about coquelic uhh I'd thought of a scenario when she doesn't like to believe that chief(fem) was actually treating her sinners with care including garofano and sumire as she thought that the chief of bureau only captured sinners to use as tools though that change when she witness it herself and got the same treatment as well when she got captured by chief which days went by she begun to feel comfortable and always tease chief whenever she likes which her liking for the chief deepen more resulting her desire for the chief only grew wider. So I guess this might be nsfw when her desire grew because she's having wild thoughts about chief whenever she focuses her gaze on chief working on her office desk and coquelic was scanning every part like her hands, face and stuffs. So yeah that's the scenario I had in mind I hope it's not confusing and I tried my best to explain it🥲

A very cute scenario anon, I actually wanted to write something like this for Coquelic ever since her event <3

18+ CONTENT

Game: Path to Nowhere

Characters: Coquelic x fem!reader (Chief)

Type: Smut and fluff (kissing, fingering, bath sex)

A/n: Let me see how many of you recognize this scene ;)

The Garden may not exist anymore, but its flowers were alive and blooming. Coquelic knew her lovely flowers had found their new home, but could she really rest easy that they had been left in the right hands? She remained suspicious and uncertain ever since Sumire left, but when she saw Sumire go to the ends of the world for you, she knew you were special. And then there was Garofano, almost transforming into a monster and sacrificing herself for you. Both of them did everything to find you, to protect you and to care for you.

The Mentor wasn't easily convinced you deserved such importance from her flowers, just what was so special about you that they couldn't stay away? Coquelic had to find the answer; fortunately, it did not take long for her to find it and she was still alive to experience some of it herself. A considerable amount of time had passed ever since her arrest, her days in the MBCC were boring for the most part, but she was glad to see her flowers were living well here. She was proved wrong about you, now the Mentor wanted what you gave to her students.....

You just finished dealing with the exhausting chores today and were planning to catch up on the pending paperwork left behind since you went to the Rust, but it seems a certain someone had other plans for you. A knock was heard on your office door but before you could reply, the door already swung open and an unexpected guest walked in.

"Oh, you are still working so late at night?~" it was Coquelic, the infamous Mentor of the Garden.

"Well, anyways. The bath bombs you bought last time were good so I bought some more myself. I'm about to take a bath, come and help me prepare it."

"Uh.... help you prepare your bath? Are you sure you want me to do that?"

"Why not? In this place, you are the only one who understands my preferences. Now, make haste."

"W-Wait, I have work to do. There's all these bills from the logistics department, field mission reports, analysis from the hypnotherapists, test results from the researchers an—"

Coquelic sighed in exasperation, "You can't do all of that in one night anyway. Come now, don't waste my time."

You knew it was pointless to argue further, you nodded with a sigh and followed Coquelic towards her personal bathroom and started preparing.

"You know what I want, right? I'm looking forward to see how you perform so don't disappoint me~"

Coquelic smirked and stood at the door quietly, adamant to see you do it all by yourself. You looked around and thought for a moment before starting, "Chilled milk with ice cubes.... water temperature at 45 degrees.... sprinkled with white rose petals..... Then, bath towerls, shower cap and robe.... oh, and the scented shampoo with conditioner...."

Coquelic watched you meticulously prepare the bath, each and every step was done perfectly as she wanted despite her telling you her preferences only once. She was taken aback but had come to realize this was your nature, she couldn't help but feel warmth in her chest as her heart started beating loudly.

"....There are many members of my Garden here in the bureau, right?" Coquelic spoke softly.

"Hm? Yes, there are." you replied without looking at her, still preparing the bath.

"Is everything here arranged by you? The schedules, treatment etc?"

"Uh, for the most part, yeah. I personally approve every document and requirement pertaining to each Sinner, that includes their diagnosis, treatment methods, diet, among other things."

Coquelic nodded then silently walked closer to your figure, her footsteps as silent as the moon, she stopped when she was inches away from you then slowly wrapped her arms around your torso and embraced you from behind. You were caught by surprise feeling her arms sling around you and her body press into you, "C-Coquelic? Is everything okay?"

"....You, perhaps you can really make a difference and change this wretched world."

Your eyes widened at her words then she continued, her voice as soft as silk, "Thank you for taking care of my flowers."

Silence engulfed you both for a while until you spoke, "I.... I just treat every Sinner equally, I want everyone to be well. Your Garden is beautiful.... and so are you."

Coquelic's heart skipped a beat at your words then she chuckled, "Heh~ Never expected to hear such words at my age but I understand, I know my beauty is eternal~"

You chuckled as well then she let go of you and you turned around to face her, but before you could say anything she pulled you down by your chest harness and connected her lips with yours for a quick kiss.

"Let's relax together, Chief. You are tired from working all day, aren't you?~"

Coquelic stepped back with a gentle smile, then her hands moved to the string on her gown to untie it. The pure white satern fabric slid down her body, revealing her perky breasts with light pink nipples. She tied her flowing silver hair in a messy bun then walked towards you and kept her palms on your chest, flirtasiously rubbing them up and down.

"You are staring so much, Chief. Hehe~ I know I'm pretty, that's why you can't keep your eyes off of me. But are you really satisfied with just looking?~"

Coquelic walked towards the bathtub and climbed inside then beckoned her finger at you. You were still quite shocked by the turn of events but more than that, you were definitely turned on from her body. You quickly discarded your own clothes then climbed in the bathtub as well and sat on the opposite edge, directly in front of Coquelic.

"Hmm, you are quite shy, Chief. I thought you were more assertive or.... dominating from the way Sumire and Garofano described you~"

"W-What?! What did they say about me?!"

Coquelic laughed lightly, "Oh, nothing much. Both of them are too infatuated with you to care, they'd accept any form of pleasure you give them~"

Your face flushed at her words and you shyly looked down when you suddenly felt the water move and looked up to see Coquelic crawling towards you.

"But I'm not them...." she straddled your lap with her arms wrapped around your neck, "....I want to see what's special about you, and I'm not easy to satisfy~"

Coquelic's smaller frame looked delicate, you were almost afraid to be rough with her. You gently kept your hands on her hips and pulled her close to initiate a soft yet passionate kiss, her tongue licked your lips and entered your mouth, and you were quick to return the action by swirling your tongue with hers in a heated manner. Soft moans and whines left her lips, sounding too sweet and addicting to you.

Your hands roamed down her thighs and rubbed her skin, making her release the kiss with a soft gasp. You then leaned forward and snuggled into her neck to lick, softly biting and sucking on her fresh. She squirmed, her fingers intertwining in your hair and grasping the strands as she threw her head back, letting you kiss further up to her jaw.

"O-Oh.... Eager to mark me, are you? Mhm.... give me more then, let us stain each other~"

Coquelic hugged you and bit your shoulder, a muffled hiss leaving your mouth and she grinned against your skin then licked the mark. She felt your hands caress her inner thighs followed by your fingers rubbing her outer folds.

"Ngh.... is that all you got? I don't believe Sumire and Garofano were satisfied with just this~"

You licked her ear lobe then began pushing your finger inside her, gently parting her folds with 2 fingers and sliding deep inside. She moaned out as your finger prodded her sensitive spot, her head shooting back in ecstasy and her grip tightening around you. She moaned out near your ear as you thrusted your fingers in and out of her, scissoring and curling to scrape her insides.

"Aaaahn~ Yes.... more.... more.... r-right there!~"

Coquelic's eyes rolled to the back of her head as she approached her release, her nails clawing down your back making marks. She finally came with a soft scream, her juices drenching your fingers as she laid panting in your embrace.

"Hmm.... n-not bad.... mhmm~"

She kissed your cheek in satisfaction and the two of you bathed together afterwards. You were seated in the bath in each other's embrace when she suddenly spoke out

"Both of you, are you done spying?"

You were confused but soon realized there were 2 presences around you, sensed by your shackles. The door of the bathroom opened and Sumire and Garofano walked in, their faces flushed red.

"A-Apologies, Mentor. We weren't spying, we were just—" Sumire tried to interject but was stopped by Coquelic.

"Yes yes, save your excuses. Come inside already, Chief is ready for you both~"

You looked at Coquelic wide-eyed then at Sumire and Garofano who were already in the process of removing their clothes..... Well, you wouldn't complain relaxing with such lovely beautiful flowers, would you?~

#path to nowhere #ptn x reader #coquelic x reader #ptn coquelic #ptn #ptn smut #coquelic

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the-temple-of-deified-heroes · 9 days

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Hello travelers, guests, and visitors, I am writing this and putting this before you as an official Apology.

First of all, so we can clear the air and provide the clearest explanation of what is happening, my name is either Camila or Neptune--I go by both--and I am the main "Host"/Maintainer of this Temple--The Temple of Deified Heroes. I created this space not too long ago--a few months, maybe--to provide a space for the "lesser known" aspects of Hellenic Paganism, that you can Worship, Devote, and Work with the Greek Heroes. I was and still am new to Paganism in the public space--I have been practicing privately through my knowledge of religion and Ancient Practices for over a year at this point--but I only started looking at what is going on in the public recently (also a few months ago).

Moving on to the problem I am apologizing for. My intentions of creating this space were entirely pure--if very uneducated. I knew the role I was stepping into would be a big one--I would unconsciously become an "authority figure," simply by being the one to create this space, much less how I put myself out there--but I was ready to do my research and step into it. I wanted to use this space to both learn and teach what I love--both in my practices and in the Mythology--but, unfortunately, I could not keep my promises. I have tried many times to keep up with this space and do my duties in learning and spreading knowledge such as deep dives and providing information many probably weren't even thinking about asking, but each time I have truly and utterly failed. I will stop lying to myself now, because it's really only harming people: I cannot keep up with the promises I signed up for making this space.

Thank you to @hyakinthou-naos and @khaire-traveler along with another poster that I unfortunately did not grab before writing this for educating me on this subject--of how big of a space I am trying and failing to fill. I do not know if they were directed at me or as a collective, but the message was heard anyway. Yes, I am embarrassed and truly and utterly sorry for doing this, but I know how to admit defeat and move on. Doing anything other than making this post would be wrong of me. Their posts, to everyone out there that may want to or need to gain the same information I did, will be linked at the end of this one as resources so we may all know more going forward.

What is the future of this space now? Well, I have spent many hours thinking about this along with our Discord Server, but I have decided this Temple will stay up because, despite my failings, it did do some good to the people it was meant to provide for and maybe putting up this apology will allow people to realize what truly goes on behind the scenes of these Temples. As for myself, I will be converting to a Digital Shrine so that people may continue to come by and offer things but it will be more of my space and very much less formal. I do still want to "showcase" my Deities (for the lack of a better word), but I have realized that this is not the space for it.

Thank you, again, everyone else, for allowing me to realize the severity of my situation. I realize the role that I was trying to assume and I am now finally taking responsibility of my wrong-doings for it. I hope you all can forgive me in some capacity and I hope this post will bring education toward other people who may need it. May all our roads be amusing, pretty, or at least rewarding in the long run, and may we all move forward knowing what is going on and accepting it as we need to.

-Camila/Neptune, Devotee of Lord Perseus

Resources, As Promised:

Digital Temples are really lovely, and I adore the fact that all these temples are suddenly popping up - by @khaire-traveler

Temples, Clergy, and Hellenic Faith - by @hyakinthou-naos

#temple findings #hellenic polytheism #the temple of deified heroes #yes I will be working heavily behind the scenes and will probably be disappearing from the Hellenic Scene for a bit #(not that I've been there in general- /neg /gen)#to figure out my place again especially within Worship #I will probably even be taking a break from it altogether and be working with Lord Zeus primarily as I repair my relationships and truly-#learn what it means to be a Hellenic Pagan #and how I want to move throughout that space within my life #once again #thank you for providing information for me #and I am sorry you had to put that out there in the first place but I think it is a great learning opportunity in general #may your journeys not be too long and I hope my own steps will become light again #/pos /gen #hellenic worship #hellenic deities #hellenic pagan #hellenic paganism #hellenic polytheist

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legobiwan · 6 months

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It's 2024 and I've decided to make a Gravity Falls fic rec list. Because I do what I want, even if I'm showing up to the fandom a decade or so late. All fics are Gen unless otherwise noted, warnings can be found at the end of each description.

Birthday Dinner by Fordtato

A post-series short story featuring our two favorite old men out at sea, this work is wildly in-character in terms of their bickering and sometimes-competitive-to-the-point-of-self-sabatoge sibling relationship, but in the best and most hilarious of ways. Warnings for lighthearted discussion of cannibalism.

i know exactly where my blood is by strawberrybiscuit

There are a number of works that delve into Stan's possible suicidal ideation tendencies, both in his drifter years and post-Portal Incident. I find this to be a wholly conceivable notion, given both the absolute shit hand he was dealt in life and the hints we are given throughout the series that his self-esteem was pretty much in the gutter. Of the stories that explore this theme, I find this one to be one of the most grounded - Stan's borderline dissociation/gallows humor is very in-character, as is Ford's genuine horror when he learns the truth of the situation, which is rightfully emotional without delving into melodrama or transforming into a Saturday afternoon special. Warnings for intense talk of self-harm and suicide.

By Any Other Name by Zeragii

I, like many of us, am fascinated by the tantalizing tidbits we've been fed as to Stan's decade or so existence as a drifter. We know he's failed at somewhat more legitimate attempts at entrepreneurship (the dodginess of the actual products notwithstanding), we know he was living out of his car for a large majority of those years, we know he's been to prison three times in various countries, and we know something happened in Colombia. All this is to say, Stan's probably made a lot of enemies, and that his map of "States I'm Banned In" is more likely a summary of places in which he has outstanding warrants and/or a price on his head.

What happens when that past catches up to you?

While this isn't an uncommon theme in Gravity Falls fics, what I love about this story is the complexity of the interactions between Stan and Ford here, given this is a post-series fic. Yes, they've mended their relationship, but old patterns die hard. Neither twin ends up as the "damsel in distress" (a worrying recurrence in many GF fics), despite the fact they are thrown into multiple dangerous situations and the OCs/Pines family extension are well-crafted and three-dimensional.

The People That We Always Hoped We Would Be by SharoScylla

A Christmas Carol, but make it Gravity Falls. The section of this story that really sold me was Stan's climatic scene in a bedbug-ridden, hovel of a motel room in New Mexico. Guest appearance made by the infamous Jimmy Snakes, who I learned recently was going to be a real character (and essentially this universe's answer to Ghost Rider) until that whole bit about Stan's past biker life was cut (regrettable). Embracing both the humor and darkness present in the original show, this story sees a Research Era!Ford come face-to-face with his own proverbial demons (real demons not included) as he is visited by a familiar cast of future past. Warnings for suicide attempt.

O Brother by Obsessive_Reader

In progress. A timestuck AU with the Mystery Twins 1.0 being catapulted into the 1980s, a young Ford landing with an increasingly desperate adult Stanley as young Stan tries to navigate the thorny, icy adult his brother Stanford has become. Probably one of the most realistic timestuck AUs out there, as fences are not mended immediately between the adult twins nor with their children counterparts. Also, Fiddleford finally has a chance to shine!

Orpheus Descending by Sir_Thopas

Unfinished. Which is a damn, damn shame, as this is probably one of my favorite Gravity Falls fics of all time. Read it anyway. Yes, you'll swear vociferously at where it leaves off. ResearchEra!Ford goes to incredible lengths to bring his brother back from the dead as Stan's demise is not exactly what it seems. What exactly happens with Stan is incredibly realistic, given his circumstances, and the local color written in by this Georgian native just adds to the Gothic feel of the whole tale. To what lengths would you go to bring your family back? At what point do you cross the point of no return in order to survive? Warnings for graphic description of a decayed corpse and prostitution scene.

Journal #4 by Percival_T_Honeybee

To be honest, this story stops being a Gravity Falls fic a couple of chapters in, instead featuring characters we know and love in increasingly out-of-universe (in all ways imaginable) situations. This doesn't matter, though, as the world- and character-building of this swashbuckling, sci-fi epic are superb and will have you on the edge of your seat until the final chapter. When both Stan and Ford go through the portal, their futures become something they never could have imagined.

Turning by BrandyFromTheBottle

I've mulled over this conceit on more than occasion and truly think it's something that begs further exploration. What if Stanley Pines pulled a Saul Goodman and, after the world was saved, turned himself in, willingly going to trial, and eventually, prison as self-inflicted recompense for his past deeds?

And now for something different...

Entanglement by Haley3

Ford/Bill (to be clear, Triangle Bill. Accept no substitutions). I realize Billford is not everyone's cup of tea and I rarely, rarely post shipping stuff, but in full transparency, I find their relationship fascinating and the idea of their having interactions that may have seeped over the boundary of purely (well, not pure. Ford built a damned shrine and became a one-man cult while Bill was manipulating him the entire time) platonic is not out of the question. In other words, I'm not wholly immune to Billford, but I am rather picky about how they are portrayed.

This fic checks all my boxes. Bill remains a triangle throughout. Bill is unredeemable. Ford and Bill have a relationship whose complexity would rival the equations of the dimensional physics they debate. And, of course, Ford is lying to himself and those around him, deeply, deeply in denial as to the nature and profundity of his emotions towards his tormentor. Warnings for explicit sexual scenes, manipulation, emotional abuse. I mean, it's Bill, we all know what that means.

#hello there #fic recs #gravity falls #stanley pines #stanford pines #bill cipher #so i have one fic here that's a little spicy #so sue me #ahahahahahahha

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ersatz-ostrich · 2 months

Text

See You Again

Chapter 4: The Waynes

Jason Todd x f!reader

You meet (some of) the Waynes. Things start to get complicated in more ways than one, but you’ll figure something out eventually…right?

[A/N]: AEEOEOEEEUUUGHHHH I'M SO SORRY EVERYONE I'VE BEEN GONE FOR LIKE TWO MONTHS 😩 I guess you guys have seen all manners of excuses by now but I was definitely agonizing over the dialogue for each character. I wanted to showcase all the ~funny stuff~ that's happened to the reader as a side effect of this silly little virus and introduce some conflict between Jason and the reader because a reunion like this can't be all sunshine and rainbows and happy tears. There's got to be sad and angry tears and awkward moments, too (I mean, it's not every day that someone you used to know comes back from the dead, right? And then you discover that they and their whole family are the most notorious vigilantes in your home city...anyways). It doesn't help that I've been pretty busy with other things over the past few weeks. So sorry for the wait and I hope you guys like this chapter!

Warnings: a little profanity

read here on ao3 (tbh I recommend it because this chapter's like 4.8k words)

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masterlist

The Batcave

5:45:03 AM ET

True to its name, the Batcave was damp and bone-chillingly cold.

Tim knew that it was probably because the Cave’s sensitive electronics and weaponry benefited from cooler environments and that the damp was unavoidable in the enormous cave system, but he liked to think that Bruce kept it that way because it made him feel like he was really the ‘Bat’ in ‘Batman’.

At least the Batcave didn’t smell of guano.

The cold light of the Batcomputer burned into his tired eyes as he sifted through the computer’s files on the Batfamily’s special guest. He found scholarly articles, a few brief reports from news outlets in your hometown, and of course, the media firestorm that had just begun to pick up speed.

“Still awake?” Tim felt a firm hand on his shoulder—Bruce’s—but made no move to meet the Bat’s gaze. “Your patrol shift ended hours ago.”

“I know,” Tim replied, fingers flying across the Batcomputer’s keyboard. He knew all of Bruce’s hotkeys and had also programmed his own to expedite his surfing through the supercomputer’s expansive resources. “It’s just…I got curious about our new case.” Standing behind Tim’s chair, Bruce hummed.

“Yes, well…” He eased his strong but aging body into the chair next to Tim’s with a sigh. “...it is a little more personal this time.”

“Oh, yeah? Do you know Dr. L/N?”

“I’ve known her since she was in the seventh grade,” Bruce answered. “She and Jason met when I enrolled him in Gotham Academy. She was there on an academic scholarship—Y/N was very bright, and young for her class. Jason grew very attached to her during that time. From what I understand, she gave him a sense of normalcy in his life and kept him company when he felt isolated from their other classmates.

She took Jason’s loss very hard. Alfred and I did our best to support her, especially since Jason had died during a critical period in her academic career. She’d gained a reputation for her academics and research projects while she was a student at the Academy. There were a lot of eyes on her. She experienced significant pressure to perform.

Jason’s death made me feel a responsibility to do right by Y/N. I opened the Manor’s doors to her, as well as my connections to Gotham’s academic circles. I helped pay for her tuition when she went to Yale, and then her doctorate at the University of California in Los Angeles. And so…having her here is another way I want to support her, for Jason’s sake.”

“I saw what happened to her. I was just getting off patrol when Jason brought her in. IT looks like he cares for her a lot…I’ve never seen him act like that.” Tim paused. The clicking of the Batcomputer’s keyboard and the white noise of the Cave’s machinery filled the air as the pair fell into a comfortable silence. Finally, Tim spoke. “How much do we know about Y/N’s case?”

“Ah, the Polestar virus. It seems like her vaccine, which was still in an early phase of testing, neutralized the virus in a way that allows it to live within the tissues without consuming it.”

“This is so niche,” Tim muttered as he read your file. “Information almost exclusive to the CDC, STAR Labs, and…the Public Health Agency of Canada?” Tim was used to being puzzled by cases with limited information. This one in particular intrigued him. “What’s Canada got to do with this case?”

“The Polestar virus was discovered by a joint US-Canada expedition into the Arctic,” Bruce answered. He reached over to type in a series of commands into the Batcomputer, which summoned a file window containing an internal government write-up about the expedition. In it were photos taken by the researchers of the remains, mummified by the ice, of three ancient humans, whose hair and nails had remained intact after millennia beneath the ice. One of the mummies—a small girl—displayed peculiar metallic spots, especially on the extremities, which the researchers noted.

“The mummies have been exhumed from the ice and are currently being held in Canada,” Bruce read off the file. “There’s also a write-up from Canadian anthropologists about the tattoos on the bodies. Traces of the virus were found in the girl’s body, but the samples STAR Labs works with were extracted from an ice core they took from the site.”

“Do we know why there were humans in the Arctic, thousands of years ago?” Tim asked, incredulous. “That sounds…improbable. But then…we’ve seen weirder things, haven’t we?”

“Precisely. What happened to the media coverage?” Restings his elbows against the Batcomputer, Tim ran his hands down his face, blinking a few times to stay awake.

“A break-in at STAR Labs is always troubling news,” Tim replied. “Anchors and analysts are beginning to speculate about the political premises of the situation, but the government’s kept quiet about the details. No one knows what’s been taken or why the break-in happened.”

“So rumors are flying.”

“They’ll die down once people realize the government isn’t going to let slip what happened. You never know what journalists might find, though. They’ve already confirmed independently that all of the surviving staff have been accounted for…except for one missing researcher.” Bruce’s eyebrows shot up.

“Interesting.”

“It might be best for Y/N’s safety if we cooked up a story about an abduction,” Tim commented as he browsed the growing collection of Polestar files. “We should find out who broke in and why they wanted to obtain the Polestar virus.” Tim’s hands stilled over the keyboard. “I wonder what’s so important about this virus. What do they know that we don’t? Why is it so important that it doesn’t leave the government’s hands?”

“Y/N almost gave her life to protect the security of this virus. I suspect she knows something we don’t.”

“She could be protecting something whose potential she doesn’t even know. Someone’s definitely out to get this virus, and she could get caught up in the meantime.” Something flashed in Bruce’s eyes.

“Even if STAR Labs withheld that information from her, she’d find a way to get it out of them,” Bruce murmured. “She wouldn’t be satisfied with being kept in the dark. She’s relentless. That’s something…”

“I think you see a little bit of yourself in her. Is that why you stuck by her all this time?” Tim prodded in a teasing tone, which earned a small huff out of Bruce.

“Perhaps.”

You slept deeply and without stirring. To any outside observer, you looked serene. Unbeknownst to them, though, you were caught, body and consciousness, in a bizarre dream.

You stood under stormy skies, on a set of steps that seemed to reach for the heavens and stretch towards infinity. You could feel the cracks and imperfections of the rough stone beneath your feet; they felt as if they were worn by the beats of hundreds of footsteps that had come before you. You could feel the coming storm in the air and the wind whipped against your skin. You looked down at your hands, still blackened and stained like they were covered in burnished iron, and flexed them experimentally, astonished by your dexterity and control over your body in what you knew to be a dream.

Free me.

Your head snapped upwards. Those words kept echoing through your head, in the way that voices in dreams did, not quite heard as waves rippling through the air but also not completely within the confines of your mind’s realm.

You stumbled up the steps. The stones dug into the soles of your bare feet. You could feel a pull leading you farther up the steps, as if you were magnetized. With every step, that magnetism became exceedingly strong; what was at first a tug that was barely there started to feel like a harsh hand dragging you. Your arms and legs grew heavier, as if weights had been strapped to your wrists and ankles, and when the burden became unbearable you collapsed on the steps, the worn edges of each stone step scraping your exposed skin.

Grunting, you willed yourself to lift one hand, and with significant effort, the other. You could still feel the invisible power pulling your chest into the ground. When you finally raised your head, you saw Jason, as he was months before his death, standing before you on the steps.

“Jason…” You forced through gritted teeth. To your horror, when you blinked again, that image of Jason disappeared, replaced by a crumpled form on the stone steps before you. “Jason!” You cried out. Panic flooded your body, propelling you to crawl up the steps toward where he lay. Slowly, agonizingly, you gripped his shoulder and turned him over. Your eyes widened when you saw his clear blue eyes framed by a tattered domino mask.

It was then that you realized that he was dressed in the Robin suit you had seen in photos and blurry vigilante-chasing videos while you were in high school. Your panic and desperation peaked when you saw how his body was broken and bloodied, fresh bruises blooming all over his youthful face and the skin exposed by the tears in the Robin costume.

“Help…me…” He croaked out, and you felt your heart split.

“Jason, stay with me, please,” You rasped, clutching his bare hand, his gloves lost in a melee you never knew he’d fought in. You could feel the sticky, congealed blood—was it his? Or someone else’s?—coating his palm and seeping into every groove and crevice in his skin.

Free me.

The voice returned, compelling you to turn your gaze skywards. At the top of the stairs, which you once thought had no end, was a purple glow.

Free me!

The voice seemed to echo from there, the owner of the voice still obscured from where you were sprawled.

“Please, I can’t let you go…please…” You begged. Jason’s grip on your hand waned as your grip on his tightened. You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing as you screamed,

“JASON!”

Wayne Manor

10:48:39 AM ET

“JASON!” You cried out. Your arms shot forward, outstretched, and you pitched forward into a sitting position. The covers were disheveled and your pillow was on the floor.

A strong grip caught your flailing arms as you reached out desperately, breathing heavily as your heart hammered in your chest.

“Easy now, I’ve got you,” Jason’s warm, deep voice soothed you as he let go of your wrists to pull you closer into his arms. Your shoulders shook as he ran a comforting palm up and down your shoulder blades, yet your heart refused to slow as the world came back into focus.

When you finally pulled back from the embrace, your heart was still thumping wildly. Pinpricks of heat rose in your cheeks and tinting your ears.

“Jason, you…actually stayed for the whole night?” Now it was Jason’s turn to flush with embarrassment. “I thought you would…”

“Leave?” Jason interrupted. “I slept like a rock.” Truthfully, it had taken Jason at least an hour to tune out the feeling of liquid fire coursing in his veins when he lay next to you. He shifted his gaze to the bedside table, where the vintage clock read 10:48. At the base of the clock was a handwritten note in Bruce’s script.

Sleep in. BB is covering your routes. Come see me after breakfast.

—B.

Jason cracked a small half-smile at the slip of paper. He made a mental note to bring Cass some takeout the next time they went on patrol together as thanks.

You opened your mouth to say something, but the words died on your tongue when Jason’s gaze returned to yours.

Odd, you thought. You thought his eyes were blue, not green.

“Are you hungry?”

“I’m starving,” You answered. You hadn’t eaten since your lunch break back at STAR Labs, nearly twenty-four hours earlier. You’d elected to skip dinner that night so you could spend an extra-long session running tests in the Coffin, but of course, things just had to go awry.

“Come on, then,” Jason got off the bed—he’d slept on the covers, you noticed—and offered you a hand. “I’m sure Alfred’s prepared something good.”

You followed Jason out of the bedroom and down the long corridors, reaching the Manor’s grand staircase where the late morning sun was already filtering through the windows. Their curtains had been drawn by a single, faithful butler every morning without fail.

“Hey, is everything alright? I heard screaming and—wait a second!” You caught sight of a blonde stopped in her tracks at the foot of the stairs, dressed in what looked like a purple stealth suit with a flowing cape and hood. “Jason, who the hell is she?” She called out, gaping at you both.

“Steph—” Jason began, but she cut him off.

“Oh, shit, I’m still in my gear! U-uh, don’t worry, I’m just a really dedicated cosplayer—”

“Steph, it’s okay!” Jason exclaimed. “She knows. It’s all good.”

“Oh, in that case, I’m Stephanie. I just got back from patrol, so I’m gonna go shower and I’ll join you guys for breakfast. Or is it brunch?”

“Nice to meet you, Stephanie,” You replied weakly, still wondering what Stephanie had to do with the Waynes—or the Bats. With an exasperated sigh that had no real aggression behind it, Jason led you down the stairs and into Wayne Manor’s bright and airy kitchen. The counters and cabinets were spotless and the enormous stove showed signs of frequent use but also careful maintenance. Freshly cleaned pots hung over the kitchen island where an astonishing breakfast spread was displayed.

“Sometimes I forget you guys are richer than God,” You whispered. “That looks like a week’s worth of my groceries.”

“Probably costs as much,” Jason whispered back. “Definitely took a while to get used to after growing up on Park Row.”

“We feed a large family here at Wayne Manor, Miss L/N.” Alfred materialized in the doorway, putting away a cloth he had been using to polish some silverware. “Please, help yourself.” You grinned as you set about putting together your breakfast, chasing away the stomach pangs with big bites of food.

“What did we do to deserve you, Alfred?”

“I ask myself that every day,” He replied dryly. “Enjoy, Miss L/N, Master Jason.” Alfred disappeared into the mansion, off to perform some obscure chore or aid the Bats with their operations.

Your focus returned to the ghost sitting across from you.

“So…what happened last night?” Jason asked. “Were you having a nightmare?”

“Something like that,” You mumbled, gluing your eyes to your breakfast plate. You didn’t dare mention that you saw him, right before his death, even though you had never witnessed it happen. “Probably a side effect of the infection.”

“What happened?” Jason asked, brows raised. “I thought the infection was done with. What did you see?” Your brow furrowed.

“Jason, why do you want to know so badly?” You replied defensively. In your peripheral vision, you could see Jason tense subtly. “I had a nightmare. I don’t remember what happened, only that I was scared and I panicked.”

Jason’s fork and knife rattled on the china.

“You’re lying.”

“So what if I am?” The hostility in your voice rose. “What happened last night is the least of my problems right now. I don’t want to talk about it.” Jason’s stool scraped against the kitchen’s immaculate floors.

“Fine then. Keep it to yourself,” Jason stalked out of the kitchen. You stood up swiftly, disturbing some of the dishes on the countertop.

“What—Jason, where are you going?” You shouted frustratedly at his retreating form. He didn’t turn around. You sat back down and put your head in your hands, feeling the turmoil grow inside of you. The emptiness Jason’s loss had created in your heart yawned, threatening to collapse like a sinkhole.

“I hate to intrude, but—.” You raised your gaze from behind your palms to see Stephanie, dressed in flannel bottoms and a Gotham University sweater. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just…forget it,” You sighed. “I don’t want to keep you from your breakfast.” At that, Stephanie filled her plate and took a seat next to Jason’s forgotten breakfast. “Did you see where Jason went?”

“He probably went off to the Batcave,” Stephanie replied. “You’ve been there, right?” You nodded.

“It was the first place he took me after I got here.”

“Where are you from?”

“Los Angeles, but I’m originally from Gotham. I grew up and went to school here.” Stephanie raised her brows.

“Is that how you met Jason?” You nodded again. “Huh. I guess that’s why we never met.”

“Are you part of the Wayne family?”

“What? No, I’m not a Wayne. I’m just…it’s complicated.” Stephanie laughed lightly. “My name is Stephanie Brown, but you can call me Steph. I used to date Tim, y’know, one of the Wayne kids. Keyword, used to. Now, I just work with the Waynes.” Something clicked in your head.

“I haven’t told you my name; I’m Y/N L/N, by the way. Do you work with the Bats under the alias of Spoiler?”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Yeah, I’m Spoiler. Do you follow Gotham vigilante news or something?”

“Sort of. I live and work in LA now, but I like to keep tabs on what’s going on in Gotham. Most of the stuff that comes my way ends up being updates on Batman and other vigilantes.”

“Then…whoa, what happened to your hands?” A grin broke onto your face as Steph’s eyes widened.

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice earlier,” You replied. “This is why I’m here.”

“What the hell?” She stood up, rounding the kitchen island to inspect your skin. “What happened to you?”

“What the hell is an understatement,” You joked. “Long story short, I got sick. I got treated here at the Cave, but it left…some lasting effects.”

“Do I even wanna know?”

“It’s so weird! My hands are like metal, but not. They feel normal, but I think they have the strength and properties of metal.” To demonstrate, you walked over to Steph’s almost-empty glass of orange juice and knocked your knuckles against the glass.

“Wow,” Steph breathed. “Duke’s gonna be so stoked that there’s another meta at the Manor.”

“Who’s Duke?” You inquired.

“Another Wayne kid, Duke Thomas. Bruce took him in not too long ago. He works the day shift, so he’ll be back later today.”

“Wow, Bruce has been busy collecting strays since I’ve been gone, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Steph laughed. “So, how did you get to know the Wayne family?”

“I met Jason in middle school, at Gotham Academy,” You answered. “I studied there on a STEM scholarship funded by Kane Industries. Jason and I became friends, I came over to the Manor a few times and met Mr.—I mean, Bruce. After Jason died, he paid for me to go to college and grad school.” You smiled sadly at the memory of finding a letter outside your dorm room in Bruce’s script. It was late in April of your senior year, just a few days before you were due to commit to your college of choice—and just a few days before the anniversary of Jason’s passing.

“Wow, I had no idea you went way back with the Waynes,”

“So do you, right?” You replied. “I guess we’re both, you know…bystanders to everything the Waynes have done.”

“I’d say we’re both victims of the Wayne drama. Us and Babs and probably Cass, too.” You laughed lightly, trying to mask your unease as the memory of Jason storming out of the kitchen came crashing back.

“Who’s Cass? And who’s Babs?”

“If you’re gonna stick around the Manor, you’ll meet them eventually.” Steph collected your empty plate and her own and dropped them in the sink with the silverware and glasses.

“Wait, let me—” Steph raised her hand, stopping you.

“It’s better if you didn’t. Alfred would never allow a guest to do the dishes in his house.” Grabbing your wrist, Steph led you out of the kitchen, up the stairs and into Bruce’s study.

“Are you taking me back into the Cave?” You asked.

“If I’m right, Jason is down there with Bruce right now. And if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll apologize to you.” Steph turned the clock hands and the front of the clock swung open to reveal a staircase. “Come on in.”

The Batcave

11:10:44 ET

“So, what do you think?”

“I think this equipment was distributed underground, Jason,” Bruce replied. “Whoever was running this operation knew what they were getting into. But that’s not what I want to focus on right now, because we can’t figure out anything if you don’t calm down first.”

“The fuck do you mean?” Jason bristled. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You might think I’m a bad father, but don’t think I can’t tell when you’re frustrated.” Bruce leaned in over the table covered in illegally-traded weaponry and equipment Jason had taken back from the Los Angeles break-in. “Tell me, Jason. What’s on your mind?”

“Why do you care now, of all times?”

“Because something’s clearly bothering you. I’m doing this because I want you in the best possible state of mind, for the sake of everybody, including yourself.”

“You can just say that you think I’m unstable, Bruce.”

“Just tell me, please. I want to help you fix whatever is bothering you.”

“Jason?” Jason’s eyes flitted up to a platform carved out of the formations of the Batcave. There, he spotted you and Steph.

“Y/N? Steph?” He called out. “What’s going on?”

“Jason,” You repeated, descending the steps to where he and Bruce stood. “I don’t—I can’t—I’m—” You stammered, struggling to translate your thoughts into speech. You started to fidget, not knowing where to place your hands or your gaze. “I’m sorry I was so defensive earlier. What happened last night was hard to process. I hope you can understand that Iwasn’tcomfortablenoughtotalkaboutitwithyouand—” You rambled, inhaling sharply. “—andI’msorryifImadeyoumad—”

“Y/N.” Bruce cut you off. “Breathe.”

“I—” Jason sighed deeply, running a hand down his face and grimacing. “Don’t be sorry. It’s my fault I got mad.”

“I feel like I’m thirteen again,” You complained. “I don’t know what to say.”

“If you’re thirteen, I must be ten. I shouldn’t have walked out on you. That’s the last thing you needed right then. I’m sorry.”

“That’s the first time I’ve ever seen Jason apologize like that,” Steph whispered to Tim, who had floated over from the Batcomputer when you’d arrived. “Like, that’s totally different.”

“I know,” Tim hissed back. “They definitely have history.”

“Like…history?”

“Still,” Jason pulled a swivel chair away from a nearby terminal and sat down. Nervously, you took a seat across from him. “Will you tell me what happened? All I want is to make sure you’re okay.”

“It’s complicated.”

“That’s okay. Shit, when is anything not complicated?” Jason shifted his arm, as if to reach for yours, but at the last second his arm fell away to rest on the workstation you were sitting next to. “Take it slow. I’m not going anywhere.”

The Batcave

12:34:08 PM ET

“That’s all I know about the virus. I’ve only been on the team for a few months and the project’s fairly new. I was already crossing a line when I tried to investigate its origins and behavior even further on my own.”

“Still, it helps us figure out who might be interested in it, or why it’s been kept on the down low,” Said Tim Drake, spinning around in the chair in front of the Batcomputer. He looked to be no more than six years younger than you—twenty, maybe twenty-one. His eyes were tired, as if he had been awake all night, but analytical. You could see that behind them, his mind was constantly chugging away, considering different approaches and theories. You understood the feeling—of always contemplating something; of being in constant, restless motion and never being able to stop. “Oracle and Jason are doing their best to trace who sent those guys. Is there anything else that you don’t know that we could try and find?”

“STAR Labs has my work phone and my work computer, but…I kept all of my personal observations from my tests in a lab notebook that I kept at home. Maybe it would help if we had whatever data I managed to record in my notebook. If there’s anything else, it’ll be at STAR Labs, but I don’t think it would be a good idea for any of us to revisit that place now that it’s been…compromised.” You replied uneasily. “Speaking of which, the authorities still think I’m missing.” You raised your hands to show Tim. “And if I turn up again, they’re definitely gonna notice this.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna have to finesse this. When you inevitably reappear, we can cover up your skin easy enough,” Tim mused. “And we can definitely get a hold of your notebook. What else has changed?”

“Bruce and Jason told me I’m magnetic now.” Tim cocked an eyebrow.

“Huh…maybe it’s time to run a few tests.”

The Batcave

1:15:56 PM ET

An MRI, a blood test, and many, many fridge magnets later, you and Tim had reached a (potentially publishable) conclusion.

“So you are magnetic,” Said Tim. “Like, on-and-off, ‘cause this MRI is unreadable because of all the interference but it’s not like every piece of metal you walk by sticks to you.”

“Unless I really concentrate,” You added. “It’s like using the Force. Or whatever Magneto does.”

“It’s like you’re Dr. Polaris or something.” Tim muttered.

“What? Who’s that?”

“Oh, sorry. He’s some Green Lantern villain.”

“You know Green Lantern?” You blinked owlishly at Tim.

“It’s a long story.” He sighed.

“Okay, you nerds,” Steph appeared beside you, holding what looked like pieces of body armor from her Spoiler suit. “Time for some field testing.” You followed her to the side of the Batcave where an array of training apparatuses had been set up—punching bags, weight racks and machines, life-size dummies, the works.

“Field testing?” You echoed.

“Yup.” Falling into a fighting stance, Steph strapped on a blocking pad meant for sparring and held it in front of you. “Punch it, not me, to be clear.”

“ Punch it?” You said incredulously. “I don’t…I’ve never…” You faltered.

“Don’t worry! Chances are, you won’t hurt me. This stuff’s built to withstand a lot. I’m already wearing my gauntlets, too.” You made a face and wound up, landing the punch half-heartedly on the cushioned, reinforced material.

“That all you got? Punch it, hard as you can.”

“Okay,” You replied uneasily. “Here goes.” You drew your fist back again and swung with all your might, and yelped when the impact produced a louder sound that you’d expected and made Steph stumble back.

“Y/N? You okay?” Jason called out from where he and Bruce were communicating with Oracle, who was stationed at the Belfry.

“Y/N? Why isn’t anyone asking if I’m okay?!” Steph argued, tossing aside the blocking pad. “Holy shit! I was not prepared for that. Not the first time I’ve been punched by a super. You never get used to the feeling, though.”

“I…I had no idea I could do that.”

“Are you kidding? You’ve got fists of steel…literally. That virus definitely did something to you.”

“We’ll know more once I get a biopsy and more scans. In the meantime, maybe try the punching bag instead of Steph.” Tim remarked, walking over to you and Steph.

“Wait, try this first,” Steph hurried over to a corner of the Cave and returned with a piece of wood. You suspected it to be part of a crate.

“She’s not some black belt martial arts master…” Tim grinned mischievously. “...hit it as hard as you can.”

From across the cave, the sound of splintering wood made Bruce and Jason jump.

“Holy shit!” You yelled.

“Are you okay? Do you have any splinters?!” Steph exclaimed, holding the crate lid, now split into two jagged pieces where you tried to smack-slash-karate-chop it. Tim grabbed one piece and raised it as if to smash it over your still-outstretched fist, and you held your hand still, bewildered. Upon impact, the wood was reduced to smithereens, only a small piece left in Tim’s hands. You had barely felt the impact on your hand.

“No! Yes! I mean, no! No, my hand’s fine!” You stared at your hand, all shiny and discolored, with wonder. “What the hell is wrong with me?” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tim approaching with a sheet of metal. “Oh, don’t you fucking dare … ”

~~~~~~~~~~I REALLY NEED A BETTER DIVIDER HELP~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason, walking past Y/N, Tim, and Steph: …what are you guys doing? Y/N, covered in fridge magnets: *peels off a magnet saying “I Beat The Riddler And All I Got Was This Stupid Magnet”* Y/N: Um…scientific experimentation?

[A/N]: LOL the ending of this chapter is so unserious I swear, I couldn't have pulled this off without all of the kind comments and support. Yall are amazing ♥️ Thanks again for reading! x

~~~~~~~~I MEAN IT THIS LOOKS SO WEIRD ON MOBILE~~~~~~~~~~

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