#oc joseph

[whore-ibly-hot]

'Photo Shoot'

Yan!Photography Student x GN!reader x Yan!Art instructor (Joseph and Mr. Burton)

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: All characters are legal age, multiple yanderes, dub-con touching, perverted thoughts, voyeurism, student/teacher dynamics, nude photography, no real mention of specific genitals

AN: I'm so eepy right now... Also, if you like this fic, use the tags on my masterlist to find all the other Yan!Boarding School writings.

The smoke coming from the corner of the room ceases when Mr. Burton snuffs a cigarette butt out on an... ashtray? From where you're sat, you can see him putting it out on what looks more like a student pottery bowl. That strikes you as odd, but he can be very critical of others art so you can't be suprised. Cracking his knuckles and leaning back a little, he turns to you and the extremely quiet classmate beside you, Joseph.

"Alright, lets get this show on the road, yeah? Joseph, you're our camera man, I'll have you leading this thing, running the camera's and I'll give some creative direction. Student and the master, I can finally teach some actual fucking art." Mr. Burton mumbles, as Joseph quickly begins setting up the camera on a tri-pod. You feel odd about him to say the least, despite you being the 'muse', as Mr. Burrton calls you, Joseph's barely made eye contact with you. You agreed right off the bat when Mr. Burton asked you to help one of his favorite students with some anatomy shoots, you like Mr. Burton, he's funny, honest, and that's refreshing, given you worry some people at this academy have ulterior motives. Still, you had some concerns as you fiddle with the thin top you wore at Mr. Burton's request. "Mr. Burton?" you ask, and he looks up from where he's mumbling about something with Joseph. He motions for the young man to keep working as he strolls over.

"I'm nervous." You admit, hand rubbing at your elbow as an attempt to self-soothe. "I don't usually get, nude, on camera, and i-it's not that I don't trust you, sir, but-" He puts his hand up to cut you off, gently rubbing your shoulder. "Woah, woah. I get it, I get it." He assures you, tone comforting. "You're my student, and you've got great, great potential. I've been on the art scene, kid, I see the burnout path some people go down, I see the ways people exploit and get exploited. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. If you get uncomfortable, I'll pull you out. And trust me, being in the nude for art starts to feel perfectly normal after a while, okay?" He pauses, then sighs. "Okay, it's comfortable except for being cold as hell." He laughs.

You chuckle in return, but there's still a bit of worry. He can tell, and leans in. "What is it that worries you, exactly? If it's insecurity, trust me, the real artists are those marketing execs who can photoshop a skinny model and make change up the whole idea of beau-"

"It's not that sir, I promise. I'm just worried about other people seeing, you know? I'm worried about it getting spread around, or people getting bad ideas about me." You admit, face a little pale. Mr. Burton's brows furrow, and he slaps his hand down on his jeans. "Joseph, come here!" He yells.

Joseph jumps, hands shaking as he almost knocks over his tripod. "But- uh, the cameras-" He squeaks out, and Mr. Burton shakes his head. "You're one of the best photographers I've ever met, Joseph, I know damn well that cameras been set up for well over ten minutes already. Come here, don't be shy, don't be weird. You're freaking out the subject." At the idea him staying away is freaking you out just as much as him coming up to you, Joseph walks over. "H-hi." he greets, holding out his hand. You shake it, and it is particularly sweaty.

"Joseph is a great photographer, my best student and possibly one of the best I've ever seen. I assure you, he's a good kid. He's dedicated to his craft, this isn't a complex scheme for him to fence some nudes of you to the highest bidder." The young man's eyes widen exponentially as Mr. Burton makes his assertion, and instinctually puts his hands up in surrender. "No, no! I would never, ever. Do I- do I come off as that kind of creep, if I do I'm sorry."

"No, it's not that at all, I just struggle with, well, some issues like that." Joseph visibly frowns, and Mr. Burtons hand tenses from it's spot on the table.

"You are pretty creepy, Joseph." Mr. Burton admits, making the boy flush as the teacher playfully pushes his head. "This'll be good, good art pushes outside of comfort zones, yeah? Let's get all set up." He claps his hands together as he goes to stand behinf the camera with Joseph. You strip, and sit awkwardly before the camera in front of a messy brick wall with various stains and prints on it from Mr. Burton's studio. Mr. Burtons licks his lips subconsciously as he looks over your meek form, the clears his throat. "Okay, first position, mermaid pose. Lets get those legs to the side."

The shoot continues on for a while, until Mr. Burton suggests a more 'raw' shoot. That's how you find yourself posing, hands over your chest area and thighs ever so slightly parted while Mr. Burton sits behind you, also nude. You worried about it being inappropriate, mostly for his sake. "Couldn't this... I mean, I'm willing to do it if you think it'll be good art, but won't you get in trouble if people find out?" You ask, turning over your shoulder a bit. He scoffs again, and shakes his head. "No self-respecting person with credentials like mine would teach these silver spoon brats art, I'm all they've got." He assures you, going to move an arm around your waist from behind.

"What composition do you want, sir?" Joseph asks, face red as he uses every ounce of will-power to try and suppress an erection at the sight of you and the older man. He'll worry about the new and conflicting feelings later. He's got enough photos to die happy, but the fact you seem so willing fills him with a delusional sense of your interest in him.

"It's your shoot, Joseph. Take over directing." Mr. Burton calls back, and Joseph doesn't seem sure. "I don't know, sir, you have more of a vision than me, and-" Mr. Burton groans, rolling his head back like a kid throwing a tantrum. "Jesus christ, kid. How many times do I have to hammer in that you're a good artist? You can direct your own shoots-" He notices the violently red flush of Josephs cheeks, and chuckles. "Or is this more an issue of being to embarrassed, because I told you-" He waves his free arm around. "We are pushing the envelope, making something raw, pushing ourselves out of comfort zones. To be a great artist, you have to not be afraid to tell your NUDE SUBJECT, to spread their legs and bare it all." Joseph is completely silent, stun-locked by his gruff teachers comments. He begins examining the shot in the view-finder after taking a few shaky breathes.

"Alright, Sir... of course." He swallows, and his shaky hands adjust the lens. "I want to-to try and delineate from what other people think nude shoots are, away from like... porn and stuff. Raw, but intimate, I think." Mr. Burton nods for him to continue, and seeing the interest in your eyes at his creative direction, Joseph gets a little more confident. "If you're okay with it-" He addresses you now. "I'd like Mr. Burton to be able to touch you, nothing too invasive, just a kiss on the neck or the shoulder, maybe letting him hold your thigh?" Joseph keeps his tone soft and asking, sure to imply you can say no.

"That's alright, I trust him." You mumble, looking at the gruff art instructor and seeing to your surprise a soft look on his face. "I'm honored, little muse." He teases, and the nickname makes you flush. "Oh, and you too, Joseph, we've not talked much, um, but you seem really dedicated, I'm sure I'm in good hands."

Shit. Well, so much for keeping his dick down, but at least he doesn't think you can see from the way the lighting is set up. He nods, and you shiver, feeling a cold pair of lips and a thin stubble scratch at the surface of your shoulder. "Are they cold?" Mr. Burton chuckles, placing a few more small kisses as you hear the camera shutter snap. "I'm sorry, I can't control the thermostat in here, all this money and they can't afford to make sure I don't freeze my dick off doing my job." He's always so grumpy, even when he's trying to be sweet. You close your eyes and try to relax into the feeling. It escalates occasionally, hands on your thighs as he kneads gently at your flesh, occasionally making a complaint about something or picking at Joseph, who keeps making an odd series of grunts, but you assume he's just breathing heavy from being so focused.

It culminates in you being positioned over him, as if playing the playful or dominate role in some sort of erotic moment. Mr. Burtons hands rest on your ass, his firm yet not fully erect cock a little too close to your hole. You're chest to chest with him, and while he's relishing in the feeling, Joseph makes a hand motion, and he knows its time to pull away, at least for this ession. He's smart, knows not to rush it, and he knows this is more than enough material for the vouyeristic camerman.

"I think we got some good shots, i-it's getting late. I'll go grab something from the vending machine while you too warm up." Joseph scarmbles away, camera bag held oddly across his crotch area. Mr. Burton smiles as you slide off from him, flushed as the weight of your previous position hits you. "You were great, a real professional." He urges, scooting forward to sit beside you.

"Thank you, sir. I was trying not to get too flushed or anything, I hope I didn't sweat too much." You admit, and he shakes his head to assure you. "Nah, you did fine, but if I could make a suggestion?" You look up. "No real intimate scene like that doesn't have a couple kissing. On your neck and shoulders was fine, but lets face it, people do more than neck each other when they're getting it on like that." He glances at the door, making sure Joseph is still doing whatever it is he's doing out there. He didn't discuss this part with the young artist, but let's face it, learning to be one step ahead, to protect your work and your muse, is something he's gonna have to learn anyways. "Will you let me show you?" he asks, voice low as he leans closer to your face.

You glance at the camera. "It's not running, though shouldn't we wait for joseph to take the photo?" You ask, a little more unsure about the artistic integrity of the action. He shakes his head as he lets his stubble scratch your cheek. "This'll be practice, yeah? For next time..."

"Next time?"

"Next time." He mumbles, lips feverishly sealing against your as he hunces over your form, cold bodies pressing together and leaving goosebumps which trail down your form as the session closes out.

[tea-potato-gt]

One of the few things they won’t tell you about raising a giant child…

It can be kind of gross… 🤢 especially if your giant son is an ugly crier who snots… a lot…🤧

~~~~~~~~~~~~

But it’s nice to know, no matter how big your giant son gets… he’ll always need his Dad(s) ☺️🥹

~~~~~~~~~

If you wanna know more about the biggest heart universe (click here)

If you wanna know more about Stør’s childhood (click here)

[highabovethecloudssomewhere]

(ocs) BEST START BELIEVING IN GHOST STORIES YOURE IN ONE

[nansmenagerie]

Joseph got a glow-up for a Pathfinder campaign! He's an Aasimar Summoner, and admittedly I drew up his eidolon before I drew him because it's based heavily on my Special Interest OC™

I've only had one full session, but already the poor eidolon's been paralyzed by spider venom and has to take nearly 2 weeks to recover.

[cowsandcrows]

JOSEPH!!!!! my beloved oc <3

details under cut:

Joseph is an upper class citizen and is part of the military/ royal guard (which i have yet to flesh out properly). He's grown up fairly well-off (no-where near poor, but definitely never wealthy) but grows in status after beginning his career. He isn't a heartless character, but naturally his position gives him a lot of prejudices that he isn't quite aware of yet. After meeting ralu, a political activist who tries to show him the flaws in the system that supports him, Joseph's opinions falter and he DOES make some progress. However this will inevitably be cut short by circumstance. (I love tragedy). His relationship with ralu is strained because of their stark political differences but nonetheless they develop a very close bond and Ralu's insistence that he indulge in all manners of "against-health-regulation" activities (He should not be smoking. But this will become a WONDERFUL motif.) Of course, Ralu is secretly the anarchist terrorist that the state has been trying so persistently to get rid of, but Joseph doesn't know this. Ralu, to him, develops into a loving partner that simply wants the best for him. And there's no harm if no one finds out about the lies, right? Meanwhile, Joseph is climbing the ranks, becoming a captain, then a major; a colonel, then a general. He's so blind that he can't see the obvious signs in front of him – or maybe he just loves Ralu too much to look into it.

[fluffyblueblanket123]

New OCs!

Tiny Nathanial and Giant Joseph

Nathanial and Joseph are both college students living together after Joseph saves Nathanial from a cat. Nathanial is studying computer science and engineering while Joseph is a student nurse.

Nathanial tends to get sick more often and Joseph does his best to help him and care for him

[noheboy]

Ellos son mi única (de momento) pareja oficial UwU <3

[somethingaboutmint]

Živa knocks out her tooth ft Maccready followup

[whore-ibly-hot]

God, I love your Yandere Boarding School HCs, Harrison is so cute with his domesticity, and I love Tyler for his slow Sweetness (I would be happy to lean on him during movie nights), and Joseph for just his vibe, I'll admit I like the admire from a distance type. 💞

Though Evan would make my mental health deteriorate so fast I would have to leave the Academy, I wouldn't be able to stand him and the way he does things even in the slightest 🤣

I have a question, How would Joseph feel if Reader had an interest in joining the newspaper, bringing their contact from every once in a while to almost- if not every day?

He would go absolutely feral, but would refuse to do photography juuuuuuuuuust yet. Mostly because he needs to remove some incriminating evidence; but he doesn't want to throw away the photos!

He's thrilled you share a passion similar to his, while he's not into journalism as much as photography, he's happy even if you are! He'll happily take photos for your article, or take you out if you're a photographer too. He'll invite you back into his room for food and to work on projects, but he'll make you wait outside because he knows remembers that shrine he's got to you. Once it's shoved under his bed, he's ready to let you in. Touch everything, let him arrange the way you hold the camera, let him take a photo shoot of you, anything, he'll be thrilled. Try to ignore the way he shakes as his hands trail your waist turning your hips and leaning you slightly so he can make sure you get the best shot.

"Good, just like that. Maybe a little to the left, mm..." He'd coo, trying to think of all the horrific things he can to prevent popping a stiffy right up against your ass.

He loves to see you focused, the way you're so passionate about what you do, just like him! Maybe he can get an internship with you somewhere, so you can keep pursuing your passions together.

Lastly, it'd gross and unsafe, but he wants to fuck you in the darkroom. No one goes there but him, he's really the only one who knows how to use it. He wants to have sex in a private, intimate place, and he's put some much work and passion into the black room that he wants to take you in his safe space. Where he can work with what he considers to be the most beautiful piece of art he's ever seen, you.

[tea-potato-gt]

The Biggest Heart Story: Stør’s Job (Part 1)

Summary: A story of blossoming young love between a Giant and a Water Nymph. Mizu can’t explain it, but she feels like she needs to see her giant friend, Stør. Little does she know of the surprise that awaits her on the farm the giant teenager works on. (Very early stages of their relationship.)

Kæmpe Stør Giant (17yrs - 36ft) & Mizu Rivers Water Nymph (18yrs - 5’6)

More on The Biggest Heart story here

Part 2 here

***

3k words

***

"Is Stør home?" Mizu asked nervously, clutching her blue hands to her chest.

"No I'm sorry, Mizu, he's at work right now." Stør's human father, Joseph, said.

"Work?" Mizu repeated. She didn't know Stør had a job. Or more accurately, she didn't know he COULD have a job. She couldn't imagine many grocery stores were looking to hire a 36 foot high schooler to man the check out lines.

"Yeah, Kæmpe works odd jobs for the local farmers. Right now he’s at Old Briar’s place down the road." Joseph read the confusion on the Water Nymph's face. "He should be done soon if you want to wait here---"

"I'll go to him!" Mizu interrupted. She realized how rude she must have sounded, her already blue face became a darker shade and she couldn't make eye contact with the human before her. "S-sorry... I don't want to intrude on you and your family... I-I just need to talk to Stør about our class project really quick."

Joseph smiled at the young girl's flustered face, "no worries, Mizu." He took out a pen and paper from a nearby drawer and wrote the address of Old Briar’s farm and handed it to a very stiff Mizu. "I'm sure he'll be very happy to see you." Joseph gave her a wink and closed the door.

Mizu stood on the doorstep for a few moments, holding the piece of paper, face turning a dark shade of blue.

***

Walking down the dirt road became increasingly nerve wracking with every shaky step Mizu took.

Mizu felt ridiculous. Why was she there? Appearing unannounced at Stør’s house no less! She had been there a few times before, but never alone. Strega (Stør and Mizu’s mutual friend) always dragged her along to hang out. When Strega's friend got together, there were very few places they could all go if Stør was involved. This usually meant they just watched movies in his room or swam in the sea by his house.

But Mizu had never invited herself over before. Why was she doing this to herself?? Maybe she should just go home. The questions she has about their project could be easily answered with an email. She'd worked with Stør before on projects using email and video chats as their main form of communicating. Why did it feel like she needed to see and talk to him in person right now?

“That’s it! This is stupid. I’m going home.” Mizu huffed out loud to herself. The anxiety was becoming too much for her to handle. “I’m so stupid!” She repeated as she turned around.

Little did she realize, she had already arrived at Old Briar’s farm.

She felt the ground tremble slightly. Mizu's eyes widened as the treeline started to shake. She heard a low strained grunt.

Curiosity got the best of her. Mizu walked further down the road, following the sound, attempting to figure out what it was.

Old Briar’s farm was quite large, and surrounded by trees of various kinds, sizes, and thicknesses. There was a stretching field of crops that bordered the trees and went up and over the hills nearby. The property was surrounded by a wooden fence that came about shoulder height on Mizu.

She walked parallel to the fence till she made it to the edge of the woods where she finally spotted it--- him.

About 50 feet away from Mizu, there on the edge of the woods, stood Stør.

He was hunched over and gripping a large tree. It was tall enough to reach his mid torso. His large hands barely grasp fully around the trunk. It looked like the branches were scratching up his inner arms as he tried to get a better grip on the tree.

He wore a white tank top, covered in sweat from the hot afternoon sun, blue jeans, and thick work boots. (Once again, Mizu was amazed by the magic created to let a giant wear human clothes on a grand scale.)

Mizu could almost forget how tall Stør really was. From this far away, she could imagine her classmate as a normal sized teenager weeding in his backyard.

But the illusion quickly dissipated with a horrible wrenching sound coming from the tree as Stør used all his strength to uproot the plant and free its hold in the ground. Twigs and roots snapped and leaves scattered.

Mizu stared. She couldn't believe her eyes. As he exerted himself, she saw the muscles on his arms bulge. She never noticed how toned Stør was. In the three years Mizu had known him, she had only seen him wear baggy long sleeved shirts, even on the hottest summer days.

Rationally she knew Stør had to be strong. He was a 36 foot tall giant, of course he has to be strong compared to an average human. But watching him rip a massive tree out of the ground like it was nothing really cemented something Mizu had been thinking about since she met him…

Stør is holding himself back.

Mizu had heard Stør briefly mention his status of living on Noma. Being the only giant on the small Island nation led to a lot of red tape and trepidation when it came to his presence. Any mistake he makes could result in dire consequences for himself or others.

Stør’s life is constantly dictated by rules and harsh punishments.

After closely observing Stør for months, Mizu slowly realized he never lashed out. Even when faced with hatred or bullying or fear, he never retaliated or fought back. No negative words of others ever passed his lips. Stør kept a constant air of calm and control about his actions, features, and body. His movements were always slow and purposeful. He never raised his voice and he definitely never showed his full strength.

But here in this moment, uprooting a tree, when he thought he was alone… For once, Stør didn't need to hold back his strength. He didn't try to make himself smaller for other people's comfort. He didn't need to worry about hurting anyone. No one was running away screaming at the very sight of him.

In this brief moment, Stør was free.

After watching how the world treated Stør, this realization broke Mizu’s heart. Could Stør truly only be his true self in the absence of others? In the absence of his family, friends, or even Mizu herself?

Mizu thought she had experienced every curveball becoming friends with a giant could offer, from learning how to ride on his shoulder to how a giant navigated a world literally too small for his stature. But once again, Stør unknowingly turned her whole understanding of his life upside down.

In the past, Mizu has overheard other students call Stør a freak or a monster. Comments like these always made her see red. How could anyone think less of him? So what if he’s a LITTLE taller than most people? He’s still the sweetest guy Mizu has ever met. It infuriated her to no end.

But then she regrettably remembers the emotions she felt when she first laid eyes on the teenager (in the English class they shared three years ago). She felt nothing short of pure frozen terror. Worried he could at any moment decide to reach his hand through the classroom window and snatch her up from her desk, carrying her off to the gods mnow where, and hurt her.

She (unfortunately) can’t blame people for being afraid of her friend. And it seems Stør doesn’t blame them either.

Mizu watched as Stør regarded the large tree in his grasp. Something she could never hope to lift in her wildest dreams. He turned it from side to side as if admiring the poor tree he just forcefully evicted from the earth.

Then he turned and gently set the tree down in a large pile of other trees that too had been uprooted. A dozen massive trees lay on their sides, roots out for the world to see.

Stør wiped the sweat from his forehead and walked back to the tree line. He grabbed a hold of another tree with both hands. A slightly smaller one, but no less impressive. He looked like he was about to pull when suddenly, Stør looked up and locked eyes with Mizu.

Her body froze. Stør did the same. They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.

Mizu was the first to find her voice, “Hi.” She called across the feild to him and waved.

This finally broke the spell, Stør quickly let go of the tree in his grasp. He curled in on himself in an attempt to look smaller.

Finally, his brain processed her presence in front of him to and allowed words to form.

“M-Mizu!?” Stør stuttered her name, he blinked rapidly as if hoping she wasn’t standing right there. “I didn’t see you,” Stør quickly grabbed his crumpled up plaid shirt from the ground, threw his arms into it, and immediately began buttoning up his baggy shirt.

Once again, here he was trying to hide himself. Hide his muscular arms in favor of a more round and soft outward appearance. Something more palpable to the average onlooker.

Mizu watched his personality change in real time, from a confident young giant to a scared timid child wishing to be anything other than what he was. Her heart ached at the fact he felt he needed to do this for someone he considered a friend.

“Don’t let me get in the way,” Mizu said as she climbed over the top of the wooden fence and sat on top. “You can keep on working.”

“No, no I was j-just about done anyway,” Stør rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to look at her. “I just need to take these– these to the other side of the property.” He vaguely gestured at the pile of large trees at his feet.

She usually found it cute when Stør stuttered with nerves, but in this moment, it felt like a knife slowly cut through her heart. He wouldn’t even look at her anymore. Stealing herself, she said, “Okay, I’ll go with you.”

Stør did a double take, “Wha— Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Mizu climbed down the rest of the fence and confidently walked across the field towards him.

“Y-you really don’t have to.” Stør sunk further into himself as he kneeled down. “It might-might take a while.”

Mizu shrugged, “I don’t have any plans.” She was now within reaching distance of the giant teenager. She had to look up at him to catch his eye. Mizu had to admit, his slouching and lowering of his body did help with neck pain when it came to keeping eye contact with a giant.

“But still… A-Are you sure, Mizu?”

Mizu rolled her eyes, “Yes I’m sure, Stør.” She was getting impatient.

“Okay…” his voice was unsteady.

Quickly changing topics before he could change his mind, Mizu clapped her hands together excitedly, “So how are we gonna transport these big-ass trees?”

Stør snorted at her abrasive language, he often forgets how foul mouthed this Water Nymph could be. “WE aren’t going to do anything. I just have to– to walk them over the hill to the other side of the farm house.”

“Fine then, since I can’t help you do all the heavy lifting, how about I keep you cool?” Mizu giggled. She held out her hand, and using her hydrokinesis, she pulled water from the surrounding air, “Can’t have you passing out from heat stroke while you do all the heavy lifting.”

Once the sphere of water was about the size of a bowling ball, she flung it straight at Stør’s face. It splashed harmlessly on his cheek, but he still reeled back expecting it to hurt. He slammed his eyes closed, but immediately felt the coolness of the water on his face, it was wonderful. He opened his eyes to find Mizu laughing, “You should have seen your face!”

Stør wiped the (to him) drop of water from his cheek, “Yeah, Yeah.” He rolled his eyes, but as he looked back down at Mizu he became serious. “I’m going to stand now. Is that alright?” He watched her closely for her reaction.

Mizu gave a quick nod. That was all he needed. Placing a hand on his knee as he slowly stood to his full height. He looked down to make sure Mizu hadn’t moved. She did not. Then he went to work.

He reached past the pile of uprooted trees and grabbed a long silver wire. It was huge and thick, she watched as he wrapped the trees in steel rope, which is usually used by giant cranes. He carefully tried the rope around the trees and fastened them in place. Then he lifted the pile of trees up, and using another long steel rope, attached them to his back.

Stør looked back down at his friend with trepidation at her reaction. Would she be frightened? But the look in her eye dispelled that worry. Her eyes were wide, sure, but not from fear. Awe and admiration danced on her face.

Slowly bending down, Stør lowered his free hand in front of Mizu, silently asking for her to climb aboard. Something she has done plenty of times in the past, and had said yes every time, but he made it a point to never grab anyone no matter how well they knew each other.

With his right hand entering her space, Mizu finally blinked and realized she had been staring for too long. She quickly looked away, blushing harder, and got to work.

Concentrating, she conjured up the moisture out of the ground and air. It was relatively easy with the high humidity and it had rained earlier that day. By the time she was done, Mizu had collected about as much water as a jacuzzi could hold. Hoping this would be enough, Mizu stepped onto his hand and began her ascent to Stør’s shoulder.

Now it was Stør’s turn to stare. The water danced alongside Mizu as she marched her way up his arm with a practice stride. Her steps tickled as she made the last stretch and slumped down on his shoulder with a huff. He tried to look at her, but she was too close to his neck that he could only see the top of her head. “Ready?” Stør said in a quiet voice due to her being so close.

Stør felt her grab his earlobe for balance. “Always.” Mizu said. The sphere of water flowed and changed at her whim beside his head, he could hear it splashing and gurgling by his ear like a stream.

With Mizu secured, Stør slowly stood up with a little more trouble than usual. He had to get up from a crouched position with heavy trees on his back weighing him down.

Sitting on Stør’s shoulder gave a view Mizu could never grow tired of. She was astonished to think Stør saw the world like this every day. What would be large rocks to step over, became unnoticeable pebbles in their path. She could see over the treeline and even a little bit of the ocean in the distance.

Stør was about to take his first step towards the farm house, when his breath hitched. A sudden cold sensation wrapped around his neck. Whatever it was it constantly moved like a soft stream around him.

Mizu had held up her end of the deal and created a water based neck wrap to help with the heat. It felt so wonderful on this hot day, that Stør briefly considered asking Mizu to join him every time he was out working. Her company and powers would definitely make the hours he spent in the sun much more enjoyable.

“Damn that feels good, thanks.” Was all Stør said as he started walking. Mizu just hummed pleasantly as she tried to focus on balancing on an ever moving giant shoulder and keeping her water powers stable.

“You can drink some if you want. It’s clean.” She raised a ball of water to his lips. To him it was just a sip, but to her the sphere of water was about the size of her head.

“Not— not right now.” Stør stammered. “Maybe later?” He always felt too awkward drinking her magic, it felt like taking a bite out of her. When he had tasted her enchanted water in the past, it continued to move as if it were alive in his mouth. He knew from his magical species class, any water she touches gets imbued with her essence as long as her magic is linked. To drink water while still activated by her hydrokinesis made him feel icky.

There was a long stint of silence between them. Neither knew what to say, as they passed over the hill. Mizu could tell Stør felt off. “What’s wrong?” Mizu glanced at his worried expression. He continued to stare at the ground, watching his step.

“I-it’s nothing.” Stør said not looking at her.

“Stør, please?” Mizu’s voice was soft in his ear.

He hesitated, several things were wrong right now, but he settled on one. “It’s just… I-I’m sorry if I smell,” Stør dreaded her being so close to him normally, but now the anxiety was unbearable. He had been working in the hot sun for hours resulting in him certainly smelling like body odor and sweat.

Once again she giggled in his ear, a sound that set his soul aflame. “Stør, did you forget what I am?” She splashed his cheek once again with a ball of water to remind him. Water Nymphs’s bodies were made entirely out of water. They have no need to breathe or smell like normal creatures, because they take in oxygen through their skin. They live in dark underground caves filled with water. Their senses are dedicated to their large eyes and ears or to their hydrokinetic powers. “You could jump in raw sewage and I wouldn’t know the difference.”

Stør chuckled to himself, relieved at her reminder of her species. He liked that Mizu was a Water Nymph. He liked a lot of things about Mizu. Her passion and kindness. Her blue hair was made of water and it flowed like a stream through a single drop would never fall to the floor. Her laugh was contagious and sweet as honey. And her smile… Oh Gods, it was a rare treat indeed, if only he could find ways to make that smile never fade… A-And he guessed her being unable to smell his body odor was a bonus too…

The rest of the trip didn’t last more than a few minutes. The pair chatted about nothing in particular, but neither minded, comforted by the other’s presence.

***

Part 2 here! 🫣

This is my first (published) short story. I usually don’t write stories, I like drawing comics, so any critiques and suggestions are welcome! Thanks!

Find out more about Stør & Mizu in The Biggest Heart master post 😉

[highabovethecloudssomewhere]

(ocs) built a couple of my morons as DnD characters

[daylightsketch]

he won't bite (I think)

[peapod20001]

Hrmmngg jewelry

[klaus-littlestwolf]

would you make a Klaus fic, where he and reader are under a sex spell? just a sex magic fic, you can decide on the plot🥰

love your fics btw💕

Warning:Dubcon cause sex pollen, talk and use of sex toys, desperate/passionate fucking, needy Hybrid sex, brief realization of Yandere behavior at the end

‘You’re joking!’ I exclaimed, unable to unhear what Bonnie had just told me.

‘No, not at all. We need to keep you away from everyone else because this spell can potentially effect others who come in contact with you. Caroline has already said you can stay in her parents cabin, Damon is taking you there now.’ She shooed me out of the room and outside to Damon’s car.

‘Get in the back!’ He snapped as I moved to slide into the passenger seat. ‘I don’t need this shit effecting me next-‘

‘Why can’t I just stay in the cell in the basement? That way I won’t be alone…I’m scared-‘

‘Because Klaus was hit by that shit too, we don’t know if he knows what it was yet and with how desperate he is for you every other day without being bewitched, I can’t even imagine what he would do with you now.’ He explained as if I were a small stupid child and I wanted to hit him desperately.

A warlock coming after Elena (as always) for Doppelgänger blood for one of his spells had attacked us. I had grabbed a potted plant outside of the Grille and cracked it over his head which gave Elena enough time to run and find Damon, though as he whirled around to me there was suddenly an angry Hybrid standing in front of me which gave the Warlock pause.

Klaus had seemingly taken an interest in me as soon as he arrived in town and while I don’t encourage him, I’m also not cruel or mean either, which seemed to make him think he had a chance.

The man reached into his jacket and pulled out a small spell bag before dumping some pink powder into his hand and blowing it at the both of us. I couldn’t help but inhale it, only breathing in more when I began choking and hearing Klaus do the same, my eyes and nose burning as I felt his hands holding onto me. Though he was still coughing himself he checked on me (which I found very sweet), hands on my face and inspecting me before brushing the powder off of me leading to me returning the favor. He had no clue what it was and neither did I but after a quick thanks I left to find my friends and a witch to tell me what the fuck I just inhaled.

Turns out we had both been choking on a very powerful potion that people had dubbed “Sex Pollen”. Many witches used to use it several hundred years ago but most stopped once people began insisting that it led to way too many people becoming effected (since all you needed to do was injest a drop) and ending up sexually assaulting whoever came across their path. The potion is typically in a liquid form but talented witches can make it in a powder, however it is about ten times more potent.

‘Stay here, theres food and water, TV, books. Everything you could possibly need. Caroline also bought you some…play things…to help. God this is so gross, they’re in the bedroom. Get out of my car-‘

‘No! How long do I have to stay here?!’ I snapped making him roll his eyes.

‘Bonnie said in the powder form it can take several hours to kick in but it lasts a few days, though with how much you breathed in probably a week at least. Go! Before you infect me too and we really have a problem!’ I grabbed the bag that Elena had packed me and slid out of the car, walking inside and locking the door behind me with a heavy sigh.

‘Fuck All Of You Assholes!’ I screamed, hating my friends for abandoning me just so they wouldn’t suffer as well before I looked around the cabin, finding the bedroom with a large California King that was quite comfortable. I also came across a basket on the bed which contained a rechargeable wand, a 7 inch pink suction cup dildo, a butt plug and a bottle of salted caramel flavored lube. ‘Why The Fuck Was She So Thorough?!’

I set the basket aside and stripped out of my shirt and jeans as I began feeling warm, climbing into the bed under the sheet and deciding to try and take a nap before I get hit with killer horniness.

The nap didn’t last more than an hour before I woke up rolling around restlessly, my body sweating now as a hot feeling in my stomach began intensifying. I couldn’t tell you how long I laid there writhing in misery before I heard a loud knock at the door, instantly hating the world that much more.

‘What are you doing here?!’ I snapped as I finally dragged myself to the front door, moody and uncomfortable which made me unable to be kind.

‘I thought I would come and assist you. Wouldn’t want you suffering through this alone, now would we?’ Klaus asked, looking every bit as put together as always but I could see in his eyes how desperate he was. I could also see his impressive bulge tenting his jeans.

‘How did you find me? I was-never mind. Go away Klaus!’ I groaned, moving to shut the door.

‘I followed Damon, he wasn’t very careful, my guess is he didn’t much care if I found you. They just wanted you away from them before they had to suffer too, your friends that you protected sent you away to save themselves. Seems really selfish to me.’ Any other day I would disagree but with how I was feeling I couldn’t argue with him, prompting me to agree.

‘You’re right…Fuck them! Couldn’t even put me downstairs! Had to leave me all alone!’ I raged as I was overcome by a cramping pain straight down to my pussy causing me to double over.

‘Invite me in Love, let’s help each other? It’s going to be days with only brief hours of relief between…let me help you get some relief?’

‘Klaus, I can’t-‘

‘You want me just as much as I want you, don’t lie!’ He growled, eyes glowing gold now as he showed how desperate he really was, so far gone that he wasn’t able to hide it anymore.

‘It’s just this stupid magic-‘

‘No! No, I’ve wanted you since I first set eyes on you, and you…you need me too.’ His hand reached down to grab his crotch, pupils nearly swallowing his entire eye whole. ‘I can make your pussy feel so good baby, you need me! Who else could go anywhere near as long as a Hybrid, huh?’ He was right, if anyone could help me it was Klaus, especially with how pent up he is himself. ‘Please Y/n? I need to be buried in your little cunt, and you know you need it too! Your fingers can’t help you the way my cock can and I know you’ve dreamt of my cock in your needy little pussy since long before this ever happened-Fuck! I Need You! Please?!’ He begged and as I felt a rush of wetness coat my panties I whined, nodding my head. ‘Say it Y/n…Say It!’

‘Come in Klaus! Please?! I need-‘ I didn’t get to finish my statement before I was tackled to the floor with the Hybrid yanking his pants open and shoving them down enough to free himself before tearing my panties off of my body and shoving himself into me roughly.

‘So Fucking Perfect! Knew your cunt would be perfect! Tightest little cunt-Fuck! Never gonna stop fucking you baby!’

‘Yes! Don’t Stop! Fuck Klaus, your cock! So good!’ Tears leaked from my eyes as he continued thrusting into my body. The sound of skin slapping together echoing through the house and out the front door that hung on one hinge from where the Hybrid had nearly ripped it off as he entered. ‘Oh Fuck!’ I threw my head back against the carpet as my first orgasm rushed through me out of nowhere, only realizing he had finished with me when I felt the hot cum inside of me as he continued thrusting, never once even slowing down.

‘I need to feel you squeeze me again Babygirl, cum for me! Cum for your Alpha!’ The second orgasm was just as strong as the first as I came and felt his body tense up as well before he finally stilled, breathing heavily into my neck.

‘I think…we’re in trouble…’ I panted heavily and he chuckled before looking down at me, hesitating only a second before pressing his lips to mine in a soft, lovely kiss. ‘Don’t stop.’ I insisted when he pulled back, grabbing onto his neck and pressing my lips to his this time as I enjoyed our kiss.

‘This isn’t how I wanted it to happen, I wanted to take you on a date, show you how much I love you…then I was going to fuck you…wanted to make you feel so good you would never leave me again-‘

‘It’s okay, you’ve just done it backwards…you can still take me out, just after this is over because I don’t think people would appreciate you fucking me over our table.’ I teased, enjoying the genuine smile that I got from him, only ever seeing it when he looks at me which has always made me feel special.

‘That’s the spell talking-‘

‘I liked you before that you idiot! I just never really thought you were all that serious.’ I admitted, pushing him up and feeling his (once again) hard cock slide out of me as he helped me stand up.

‘How could you think that? I’ve gone out of my way to show you-your friends told you I was using you, didn’t they?’ I nodded and he huffed a heavy sigh before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me into a rough kiss. ‘I love you, regardless of any doppelgänger or your awful friends. After all of this I will take you out properly, I promise…but until then-‘

‘No! No more floor fucking, there’s furniture and a bed here for a reason, no more carpet, it hurts.’ I explained, feeling the rug burn against my back and ass.

‘No more rugs, but I need you now.’ He growled, lifting me by my thighs and appearing in the bedroom instantly, dropping me onto the bed. Just as he spread my legs he paused, glancing over to the table and reaching out to grab the basket with the things Caroline had left. ‘What-‘

‘Caroline left them for me. I guess she wanted to help me since I’m all alone.’

‘Interesting…does she know you well, or not?’ He wondered, picking up the butt plug and raising his eyebrows making me blush as my body started sweating.

‘Klaus! Stop the teasing and get inside me! The cramps are starting, so if you’re not going to help me then get the Fuck out and I’ll do it my-Ah!’ I cried out, feeling the rounded end of the plug pressing to my tight hole and rubbing against it. ‘Oh God!’ Klaus took the lube bottle and squeezed a healthy amount onto the plug before tossing it to the other side of the bed and pressing it back against my ass.

‘Relax Precious, this is going to make it feel so much better!’ He promised, pushing the plug harder until it popped into my hole. Klaus could feel his cock throbbing even harder at the sight of the jewel on the end of the plug. ‘You are so fucking perfect! How do you fee-‘

‘Klaus! Please?!’ I begged, pulling him closer and yanking at his shirt before getting it off and sighing in relief at the feel of his hot skin against mine.

Klaus shoved his jeans and boxers the rest of the way off, finally naked as well before taking hold of his cock and pushing himself back inside of me. ‘There you are love, feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Both of your slutty little holes stuffed up?’

‘T-Too much-Never-‘

‘Never been so full before, I know Baby! I-Fuck!’ Suddenly as if he could no longer control himself he began thrusting into me frantically. ‘Mine! My Fucking Cunt!’ He snarled, Hybrid visage taking over as he fucked into me so hard I briefly wondered if he could shatter my pelvis like this.

‘Yes! Yours! All yours, don’t stop! Please don’t stop?!’

Y/n couldn’t have said how long Klaus continued like that. How long he thrust into her cunt at a painful speed, how many times the both of them had climaxed together while he still continued to fuck his (somehow still) hard cock into her, she couldn’t even say how many times he had buried his fangs into her throat in an effort to mark her as his like a werewolf marking his mate…and maybe he was. Odds are she was never getting away from him now-not that she wanted to.

It was a week later that Damon finally came back to the house to check on her finding the front door ripped open.

He ventured inside, not hearing anything and figuring that it was over for Y/n and who was inevitably Klaus that had torn the door off the hinges. He was prepared with jokes galore for the the drive back, excited to pick on the young girl for giving into the monster that had been after her for months but sadly he never got to use those jokes.

Damon opened the door to the bedroom to find his girlfriends friend snuggled into Klaus Mikaelson’s naked chest fast asleep. The Hybrid however seemed to have awoken as soon as he turned the doorknob, his yellow eyes finding his with an intensity that he had never seen. He bore his fangs, lifting his head and Damon (one of the only people who had never truly feared Klaus Mikaelson) was instantly terrified. It was like a bucket of ice water dumped on him, alarm bells ringing in his head declaring the danger that he is in prompting him to throw up his hands instantly. As Klaus moved to sit up, the young vampire shut the door promptly and hightailed it back to his car, peeling back down the driveway.

He doesn’t know how long that stuff will take to wear off but it definitely hasn’t yet and he would not be disturbing them again!

Y/n and Klaus were in the house for nearly 2 weeks before they felt as if their bodies were back to normal though they stayed for another week after that. No one could have imagined how close such a spell would bring them…no one except Klaus of course.

The witch he had hired to make that powder had done a wonderful job, money well spent in the Hybrids mind. The spell had worked better than he ever could have imagined and it had gotten him exactly what he wanted.

The only thing left to do was to kill the witch that had helped him and ensure that his mate never learned that he was the one who had dosed her.

He finally had his girl, he couldn’t let something so trivial ruin it.

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[ekkkkey]

vestal (chapter III)

in which we learn that Caracalla really, really loves to pray. And Geta? Geta is furious…

summary: Livia, a young Vestal Virgin, is bound to Vesta's eternal flame and the vow of sacred duty. In Rome, it's common knowledge; touch a Vestal, and the wrath of the gods will descend upon you. But what if someone dares to defy that rule?

chapter I chapter II

warnings: 18+ minors dni, dub-con, non-con

tags: darkfic, sibling rivalry, no softboys here, religious guilt, mommy issues, caracalla when i catch you!

word count: ~4k

•••

The Great Maiden, like the other Vestals, lived in the House of the Vestals, so it was easy enough to find her.

After listening carefully to Livia’s hurried account and reading Claudia’s letter, the High Priestess was silent for a moment. Then, her pale lips parted, and she gestured to a marble bench, inviting Livia to sit.

"Sit, child."

She herself remained standing, her gaze fixed somewhere ahead. Despite her efforts to appear welcoming, there was a barely concealed tension in her posture and unease in her eyes. Still, Livia obeyed, sitting down with her hands folded in her lap, studying the older woman, trying to understand what troubled her.

"I’m sorry to come asking for this, but my heart won’t rest when my sister sends me such alarming messages. I have to see her…"

The priestess’s sharp eyes fixed on her. "Does she have no one else?"

Livia sighed. "Alas, no. Our mother has been gone for years, our father only just passed, and…" She swallowed hard, forcing back the lump rising in her throat. "…and our older sister, too. Claudia has a husband, but she’s carrying a child, alone in a foreign house… If I don’t go to her, I’ll never forgive myself. I can’t lose another sister."

Whether it was Livia’s words or the sorrow on her face, something in the senior priestess softened. Her voice was quieter when she spoke.

"Very well. Go see your sister. But don’t linger too long, and…” She hesitated, frowning, before continuing, “remember—your place is here, in the temple of our goddess and protector."

"Thank you," Livia said, relief and gratitude flooding her. In a sudden rush of emotion, she bent down and pressed a kiss to the back of the Great Maiden’s hand before hurrying out. But just as she passed through the doorway, she caught the woman’s gaze following her—heavy, somber, devoid of any joy.

And just like that, her own joy vanished.

Dark thoughts crept back in, pressing in around her like shadows. The secret she hadn’t told, the truth she hadn’t shared with her sisters. Once, they had shared everything—joy and sorrow alike—but now… Now, guilt took root in her chest, and the weight of unspoken words threatened to suffocate her.

Her sisters didn’t know.

And it was his fault.

Emperor Caracalla had shattered her quiet, ordered world with nothing but his presence. He had brought with him chaos, lies, and… thoughts that had no place in the mind of a Vestal.

But the goddess knew.

Nothing could be hidden from her. And that made it all the more unbearable.

She had tried to tell Caesonia—truly, she had—but the words got stuck in her throat the moment the other priestess started talking, her eyes sparkling with excitement about Emperor Geta. Oh, how her sister admired him! She’d praised him, laughed, made silly jokes, and seemed so thrilled that they’d be attending the games again soon.

And how could Livia ruin that? How could she say that the father of Rome had stormed into the sacred temple, had whispered things to her that no young girl should ever hear? That he had touched her, behaved with brazen arrogance, nothing like the divine being so many believed him to be?

How could she describe the filth of it? The wrongness? The things that no Vestal should ever even think about?

Sin.

She longed to bathe, to cleanse herself, as if Caracalla had truly touched her, squeezed her throat, and kept purring in her ear.

A shudder ran through her, and she bit down hard on her lip, desperate to chase away the smiling image of the emperor from her mind.

She had no time for this.

She needed to think of Claudia. She needed to focus on her sister. Not waste another moment on impure thoughts.

ৡ ৡ ৡ

As soon as the chariot began rolling through the streets of Rome, a fresh wave of panic washed over her. Livia tugged the curtains tighter, not wanting anyone to see her. This visit had to be swift and discreet—there was no reason for the people of Rome to know that a Vestal Virgin was paying a visit to the emperors’ palace.

She had no interest in the outside world—she didn’t care to see how the capital lived, neither the lavish homes of the patricians nor the cramped, crumbling dwellings of the plebeians. And yet, when the chariot slowed, she couldn’t help but peek through the slightly parted curtain. What she saw made her gasp.

The emperors’ palace, a gleaming fortress of white marble, was overwhelming in its grandeur. Even approaching from the less prominent side, away from the central square, there was still plenty to marvel at.

She was expected. As soon as she stepped inside, she was escorted directly to her sister. To Livia’s surprise, they led her to a garden, where amidst fragrant flowers, elegant marble statues, and the quiet singing of birds, Claudia waited for her in a shaded gazebo.

The young woman lounged in a garden chair, looking bored. Her legs were stretched out on a low stool, one hand absently stroking her rounded belly. But the moment she saw Livia, her expression lit up with genuine joy.

Livia lifted the sheer, pale-blue veil from her face. Beside Claudia, a dark-skinned slave girl sat at her feet. At the sight of Livia, the girl’s eyes widened—not just in surprise, but in something else. Fear? Doubt? Did she find it strange that a Vestal Virgin had come to see her mistress? Or… had she seen Livia before? Livia didn’t know, and she had no desire to dwell on it. With a simple nod, Claudia dismissed the servants, leaving them alone.

"Livia, sister, I’m so happy you’re here," Claudia said, reaching out with both hands.

Livia covered them with her own, squeezing gently. “How are you feeling?” she asked, searching her sister’s face for answers.

"Oh, this…" Claudia’s expression faltered, her eyes darting nervously. She didn’t look sick. "Forgive me for the little deception, Livia. I—" She hesitated. "You must forgive me. I just wanted to see you so badly, and I couldn’t think of any other way to distract you from your prayers!"

Livia stiffened. Anger flared through her body, and she pulled away, her movement sharper than intended.

"Do you realize," she said, her voice rougher than before, "that because of your 'little' deception, I’m in a difficult position? I have duties. What am I supposed to tell the High Priestess? That my sister is a liar?"

"You don’t need to explain anything," Claudia said smoothly. "Just tell them I’m feeling better, and that’s all. Is it really such a crime to visit your pregnant sister? Do you truly believe Vesta would be angered by that?"

But Livia remained resolute, crossing her arms and taking a step back.

"Lies—those are the real sin,” she said, eager to return to the temple immediately. “Answer me, Claudia—why did you really come up with this story?"

Her sister straightened, lowering her feet to the ground, placing a protective hand over her belly. Her gaze turned distant, uneasy. Her lips parted, but she hesitated, avoiding Livia’s eyes. She was hiding something. And Livia didn’t like it.

"I was asked to…" Claudia finally murmured.

"By who?" Livia’s voice came out hoarse. She already knew the answer.

"The emperor…" Claudia admitted softly.

Livia didn’t wait to hear more. She pulled the veil back over her face, turned on her heel, and strode toward the exit. Away from the garden. Away from the palace. Back to the temple, where her sisters—though not by blood—would never lie to her.

"Wait!"

A sister’s hand, hot and desperate, grabbed her wrist.

"I had no choice, Livia, please!" Claudia’s voice broke into a sob. "Appius is always at the Senate, and when he’s not there, he’s off carousing with the emperors. I’m alone all the time! I really did want to see you, and when Emperor Geta told me—"

"He ordered you to do this?" Livia yanked her hand free. Through the thin veil, she regarded her sister’s small, trembling figure, unwilling to show her own face. Or her emotions. The resentment in her chest tightened like a knot.

"No, but… You know the gods’ power lies in the hands of the emperors. Who am I to refuse a request?"

"You’re my sister," Livia said sharply, turning to leave again.

"Livia…" Claudia’s voice cracked.

She clutched her belly, breathing heavily, and sank back into her chair.

Livia’s heart softened, and she hurried to sit in front of her sister, inspecting her, stroking her dark hair gently.

"Don’t upset yourself, please. I forgive you," Livia said softly, fixing her sister with a steady gaze, brushing the damp curls from her forehead… and then she froze.

Claudia had always been frail. Both Cassandra and Livia had been strong, healthy—tall, just like their father, and eerily similar since childhood. But Claudia had always been different, with her dark hair and blue eyes, she took after their mother with her frailty and shorter stature.

And now, looking at her, Livia realized: Claudia truly was ill.

Her gaze drifted lower. Without touching her, she traced a faint red mark on her sister’s skin. Then another. One near her collarbone, half-hidden beneath the fabric of her deep burgundy tunic.

"What is this?" Livia breathed.

Claudia hurriedly shifted her long hair over her chest, hiding the marks.

"Nothing…"

A lie. Livia saw it in her eyes. She wanted to press her, to demand the truth—but they were interrupted.

A palace guard had arrived. The emperor was summoning her. And she couldn’t refuse.

Casting one last, sorrowful glance at her sister—now curled up in her chair, her face unreadable—Livia rose and followed the guard into the palace.

ৡ ৡ ৡ

This time, she doesn’t stop to admire the gold or marble. The sculptures and frescoes fade into the background. All she can think about is her sister—those marks. She’s seen them before… she’s almost certain.

"Wait here, priestess. Emperor Geta will join you shortly," the guard tells her before leaving her alone in the vast, empty throne room.

Livia clasps her hands together, her gaze drifting over the towering arches and columns. She doesn’t like it here—it’s too ostentatious, too… too dangerous. The sheer size of the space makes her uneasy; she longs to return to her small, familiar room in the House of the Vestals. She avoids looking at the intricately carved thrones at the center of the hall, but a bas-relief above a small, almost hidden door tucked behind the columns catches her eye.

She’s heard the story countless times—first as a child in her parents’ home, then later from the High Priestess, who taught her about the sisterhood. Carved into the white stone is a she-wolf nursing two infants. Twin brothers. Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome, who…

"Their mother was a Vestal, wasn’t she?" a quiet, sudden voice makes her flinch.

Caracalla is standing close—too close—as if he’d been there all along. Livia wills her racing heart to calm, determined not to let him revel in her fear. Thankfully, her face remains hidden behind the veil.

"Yes, my Caesar," she replies politely, bowing her head. "She bore them from a god."

"What could be more honorable, hmm? Mars, the god of war, blessed her womb with great sons," he stood in profile, his eyes locked on the relief, but she could see his lips stretch into a smile.

"And couldn’t protect her when she needed it," she retorts, bristling.

"So now we’re judging the gods, are we?" He turned to her, and she swallowed, her gaze dropping, cursing her own foolishness.

"No, we are merely humble servants, Emperor," she replied softly, and Caracalla smiled again.

The faint clink of golden bracelets fills the air as he gestures toward another wall. Livia’s gaze locks onto his pale, well-kept hand. This time, there are no rings—instead, his thin fingers are coated in gold up to the middle knuckle. She’s seen priests do this, though they used sacrificial blood… She could easily imagine blood in place of gold.

"Another one of your sisters," he giggled, eyeing Livia with interest, still smiling with slightly parted lips, like a mischievous child.

Livia presses her lips tighter. The young emperor is testing her, teasing her. She glances at the other bas-relief. Tarpeia, the traitor who betrayed her city, is depicted with a look of terror, buried under heavy shields, one hand reaching desperately toward the sky.

"The claim that she was a Vestal is a myth," Livia replied curtly.

"But the rumors exist, don’t they?" he said lightly. "Of course, not something a Vestal would take pride in. But you’re different, aren’t you? Faithful to your calling."

This time, his eyes met hers directly—so piercing, so heavy, it felt as though the veil between them didn’t exist at all. As if she stood before him bare.

"I am faithful to my vows, Emperor."

«How many times do I have to say it before you stop looking at me like that?» she thinks, clenching her fists. He immediately notices her tension, his eyes flicking downward. He seems relaxed, unserious, smug even—but Caracalla is watching her closely. He is attentive.

Dressed in sapphire blue, his eyes are even more striking—dark, tempestuous, mirroring the hue of his tunic. His hair is a wild tangle of curls, untamed by a golden laurel, and his cheeks burn with a feverish glow, just beneath a delicate layer of powder. Livia’s gaze snags on the tiny, nearly healed marks on his cheekbones, and her mind flashes back to Claudia. Could it…?

"I’m here to visit my father," Caracalla says with a nod, as if the strange tension between them never existed.

Only now did she realize that the small door led to the altar.

"You praying?" she asked, genuinely surprised. In her mind, Caracalla was a god unto himself.

"Praying?" he echoed, a sly twist in his voice. It was hard to tell whether he was answering or posing the question back at her, daring her to guess. Livia stayed silent.

"You can join me. My father may not have been a devout man or given your temple the attention it deserves," he says, his eyes swept down her body and back up again, "but a Vestal priestess might brighten his afterlife."

She hesitates for only a heartbeat before following him. She has no choice.

Alone with the emperor in the small, dimly lit room, Livia freezes against the wall, waiting for him to speak. But he doesn’t.

He stares at the gilded altar, a smile playing on his lips—not a sad one, but rather sardonic, cruel even. As if he’s pleased his father is dead, his bones buried beneath, while Caracalla stands here, alive, the emperor…

"Five years to the day since he died," his hoarse, quiet voice cuts through the silence.

"I’m sorry," Livia replies. "My father’s gone too. I understand…"

"Do you?" His high, hysterical laugh jolted her, and she stepped back toward the exit, warily watching the flushed cheekbones, the dilated pupils, the heavy rise and fall of his chest beneath the blue toga. "Were you glad when your father died too?"

And then it hits her. He hated the old emperor.

Oh, how foolish she had been, believing he could ever love anyone.

She recalls the day the emperor passed. Whispers had spread, suggesting he’d been murdered… Could one of his sons have been responsible? Unease settles in her chest as she wraps her arms around herself.

Caracalla, as if reading her thoughts, turned toward her, narrowed his eyes, and then approached so closely that she could smell the scent of aromatic oils. His hand rose, and she recoiled, fearing he might touch her. But no, his fingers merely grazed the veil, pushing it back to reveal her pale face.

For a moment, they were silent. She seemed to stop breathing altogether while the emperor studied her face with surprising seriousness and focus. They were the same height, and Caracalla was only slightly older than her, but for some reason, Livia felt like a child, a little girl. It was frightening.

"Your sister was here," he says, running his tongue over his lips, his breathing quickening again.

"Claudia?" she whispers, almost without thinking.

"Who?" He laughs. "No, your other sister."

"Cassandra?"

The name of her sister causes the emperor’s pupils to dilate even further, the blackness swallowing the blue of his irises. The shifting torchlight casts shadows across his face, transforming it into something tragic, unsettling. He stepped back from her, turning once again to the altar, standing next to his father’s bust.

Now Livia saw two profiles—one marble, one alive, human.

Yet the living emperor, standing still, was no different from the statue. Pale, youthful, beautiful, he surpassed even the finest work of the sculptor who had carved his father.

"Yes," he replied. "Little bird often brightened my days when she lived here. Sweet, gentle, obedient…"

His voice dips into a purr, and Livia’s brow furrows. Little bird. He’d called her that too.

"You’re nothing like her, though your face is hers exactly."

She felt a wave of disgust ripple through her at the tone he used when speaking of her dead sister—as if a single tender purr could tarnish Cassandra’s memory.

Livia silently turned away, unwilling to speak to him any longer. She needed to meet with the other emperor and leave the palace.

But as she took a step toward the exit, his hand roughly grabbed her wrist, and he slammed her against the wall, chest-first.

Stunned, it took her a moment to register what had just happened.

He had grabbed her!

Touched her not playfully, but brazenly, shamelessly! As if she were… Her!? Livia gasped, her cheek flat against the cold wall, his hot body pressing into her from behind, grip squeezing her wrist to pain.

"Let go! This is sacrilege!" she whispered, trying not to sound too frantic.

"I touched you—grabbed you like some common kitchen wench," he whispers in her ear, inhaling the scent of her hair, his nose burying into her neck.

"And look—my hands are still here. Your goddess hasn’t cursed me. Who’s going to punish me, huh? You? Come on then. Fight back. Hit me. Here I am, touching you again and again, right on my father’s grave! So what are you going to do to me, priestess?"

His other hand settles on her neck, brushing her hair aside. She couldn’t move.

Not wanting to anger him further, Livia freezes.

So does he.

"Emperor Antoninus, please," a desperate whisper escapes her dry lips.

His breath on her neck quickens, grows hotter.

His name stirs something in him—his grip on her wrist even loosens slightly.

"Say it again," he commands.

"Please…"

"Not that! My name!"

"Antoninus…" Her voice trembles, and he presses into her hips harder, letting out a quiet moan.

"My mother used to call me that," he whispers, finally releasing her wrist.

Livia can’t bear it any longer.

While he’s distracted, relaxed, she spins around, shoving him hard in the chest—consequences be damned. Her nails rake across the back of his hand as she rushes away, her heart pounding, dreading he’ll follow.

But he doesn’t.

Only his laughter echoes behind her.

"Fly, little bird—we’ll meet again!"

ৡ ৡ ৡ

She rushed to leave the throne room, desperate to escape the palace, but as she reached the exit, she collided with Emperor Geta. His face froze at the sight of her, his eyes scanning her disheveled appearance with a stunned disbelief.

Only then did Livia realize how she must look. Her gaze was wild, her hair a tangled mess, her veil crumpled, and her wrists were marked with blossoming bruises, streaked with traces of gold paint left by Emperor Caracalla. Geta noticed all of it. He pressed his lips into a thin line but didn’t comment on it, speaking as though everything were perfectly ordinary.

"Apologies for the wait, priestess" he says politely, inclining his head. Unlike his brother, his hair is neat, crowned with a golden laurel, as it should be. He’s dressed in night-black robes—impeccable, composed, focused. Yet, Livia can’t help but notice the red blotches seeping through the layer of powder. He’s furious. His dark eyes bore into her as if she’s betrayed him.

"Why am I here?" she said hastily, still fearing that Caracalla might appear behind her.

"I told you—I enjoy your company, I want to see you more often," Geta replied softly, licking his lips.

Her mind immediately flashed back to his brother’s words: "Geta wants you." A wave of nausea hit her.

"We agreed to meet at the games."

"Yes, I remember," his black eyes remained fixed on her wrists, and she suddenly wanted to strike him. How dare he!? He knew exactly what his brother had done! He knew it was Caracalla—he knew, and yet he remained silent, endured it! If he likes her so much, why is he tolerating this? Coward.

"I wish to see you. Without the High Priestess and your sisters. Just you. There will be a feast tonight. I want you to be there."

Livia blinked, stunned. What did he think she was?

"That’s insulting," she spat.

"It’s an honor," he replied sharply, his voice growing colder. "Didn’t your sisters in the past attend feasts, gatherings? Watching gladiators spill blood on the arena floor is acceptable, but spending an evening with Rome’s noble citizens is condemned? There will be poetry readings, singers, harpists. You’ll spend your time as you see fit. If you think of anything improper, that’s not my fault…" He smirked, brazenly tilting his chin, reminding her once again of Caracalla.

Anger overwhelmed her completely. Oh, so he wanted to show her off to his friends like some precious trinket? To brag?

Livia bit the inside of her cheek as hard as she could, forced a fake smile, and nodded.

"One evening, Emperor. And then you’ll leave me be."

Geta mirrored her smile, his curious gaze lingering on her face, before replying, obviously lying:

"Of course, Amata."

[coco-cinnamon]

"Just One More, Love."

Warnings: cursing, smut, daddy kink, p in v, unprotected sex, squirting

Pairings: Klaus Mikaelson x Female Hybrid Reader

Summary: In which Klaus is insistent on Y/N squirting.

coco-cinnamon. please do not steal, copy, modify, repost, or translate my work.

"Come on, just one more, love." He said as he thrusted into you. You moaned out loudly as Klaus continued his brutal pace, thrusting his cock into your already abused pussy. You cried out and shoved your face into your pillow as he continued to fuck you the same way. You rested your cheek on the pillow, resting your head on the left side so you could breathe.

"Fuck, I love this pussy." Klaus said as he groaned. You moaned with him as he continued to fuck him, his pace somehow getting even faster than it was before.

"Oh fuck!" You moaned out as you felt your stomach begin to clench. You could feel a knot growing in the bottom of your stomach and you knew that your orgasm would be approaching soon. "Fuck- daddy!" You moaned out.

"What is it, love?" He said breathlessly as he continued to fuck you hard. You tried to get your words out but you couldn't. All you could do was just lay there and moan out, unable to form any words at all. Klaus began to slow down his pace a little so you could speak to him. "I said, what is it, love?" He asked.

"I- I'm gonna cum!" You moaned out loudly. You could feel a familiar knot brewing in the bottom of your stomach and you knew for a fact that you were going to cum any second now.

"Oh yeah? Does my baby have to cum?" Klaus asked with a smirk before moaning out himself. You nodded desperately as he continued to fuck you. He smirked and slapped your ass roughly before grabbing the now sensitive skin in his hand. "Come on then, cum, cum for daddy." He said.

With that your eyes rolled back and your whole body trembled as the coil inside of you finally snapped causing a scream to tear through your throat as you gushed hard all over your boyfriends dick. Klaus had came the same time you did, his cum painting your gummy walls. He stopped his thrusts and looked down to where the two of you were connected before a smirk danced across his lips. "I- what? What is it?" You asked breathlessly as you attempted to catch your breath.

"Fuck baby, you squirted." Klaus said with a smirk as he looked back up at you. You sat up on your elbows and saw the mess that you made causing your cheeks to burn up, your face turning as red as a tomato.

He smirked before leaning over to kiss your lips softly. "Don't be embarrassed, love. It was so fucking hot." Klaus said. "And it was so hot that I intend on making you do it again and again." He said with a smirk before winking at you. It was going to be a very long night.

Author's Note: tysm for reading!