#however i feel like its my duty to draw this guy chilling after watching him get shoved in a meat grinder for Iike 10 episodes.

[ba1laur]

last saturday that will be spent staring 20 minutes at a screen watching this guy go thru incomprehensible horrors. cant wait to have normal weekends from now on

[dizzydancingdreamer]

“So that’s how you want to play this, love?" | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey My Lovelies! I hope all is well today! I received a request ages ago from @activist-af to do something like this, as you will read below. I honestly aimed to fit the movie night theme in there but it was swallowed up pretty fast! I only meant for this fic to be 3000 or so words but, as it always seems to do, it got away from me.I truly hope that you enjoy this, you've given me an unwavering amount of support these past few months while I was battling a major bout of depression and writers block. I can't repay all the kindness and love you've given me but I hope this is a start! Much love darling! And much love to all of you lovelies! Please have a fantastic evening for me! <3

Please read before continuing: I usually wouldn't write this much before my story but I wanted to add this: this story is my first full blown smut. I'm honestly not sure how well it will go over but I tried to make it as loving and healing as I could. I take my writing very seriously. I know sex for many is a touchy subject, and that truly pains me. I sincerely hope every single one of you reading this feels all the love and saftey I tried to incorporate into this peace. I wish you an eternity of love and healing. Be safe my loves!

Request: "Could u do a mikaelson boys x reader? Any plot really, but I’d very much love it if it was a bit more Kol focused. there’s just such a lack of content for all three of them and I love your writing so much. If u need any plot point ideas maybe a movie night kinda thing? I really hold him a bit higher than the other boys. Or something similar to the fic with the Klaus + Eli being injured? Fluffy ending please, smut is fantastic too 🖤"

Description: Y/n is upset that the boys won't let her come on their mission with them, feeling isolated and useless. Kol is supposed to stay behind and watch out for her however things get heated after she tells him off.

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Fem!Reader, mainly Kol and Elijah

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! This is a full blown smut, I honestly do not know how it happened, probably 4000/5000 words are pure sex scenes, also there's a bit of fighting/angst at the beginning of the first scene but it doesn't last

Word count: 5343 (I'm so sorry)

Tags: ANGST, SMUT (full on), FLUFF

(Pics aren't mine but the moodboard is :) )

“I really don’t see why you guys are leaving me behind, again,” you run an agitated hand through your hair, huffing indignantly at the two boys in front of you.

Yes, boys. Not men. If they aren't going to treat you like the full grown woman you are then no way in hell are you going to give them any validation either. Even in your head.

“It’s too dangerous,” Elijah’s chocolate eyes are stern, his hands clenching at his sides, “I can’t risk the witches doing anything to you as a way to get to us. You’re too important.”

Your chest warms slightly at his words but it isn’t enough to break down your resolve. Three hundred years under your belt; they’re going to need to do better than that if they want to keep you away. There are only so many times you can stay away from a fight, only so many times you can watch them come home hurt knowing that if you had gone with them then maybe you could have prevented it. You’re a family and you’re tired of feeling like you aren’t pulling your weight.

You narrow your eyes at the tall boy, still not man, trying to peer through all the red you’re seeing, “I’m not a child, Elijah.”

He stares right back, not backing down, his face cut like marble, unwavering. Beautiful but harsh. Stone. He wears a white shirt, the first button popped and the sleeves rolled to his forearms. His veins are prominent and tempting. Elijah means business. You swallow the lump in your throat, pushing away the heat growing in your stomach.

“Love, trust me, we know you aren't a child. Any other time I would gladly rip you upstairs and prove it. Right now, though, I agree with him. You’re staying here,” Klaus’ softer voice pulls your attention from your staring match with the eldest Mikaelson.

He has a leather jacket on, the material clinging tight to his arms, ready to burst. He’s smiling but it doesn’t reach his crystal eyes. He folds his arms neatly in front of him. He’s not going to budge either.

You scoff at him, shaking your head, “I want to come, Klaus. I need to.”

A new voice joins the three of you in the foyer, “I can make that happen, darling, but you’ve got to stay home with me if you want that.”

You don't even need to turn around to hear the smirk on Kol’s voice but you do anyway, meeting the youngest Mikaelson face to face. He has a grin on his lips, one that, in any other situation, would have you weak in the knees. He has a sweatshirt on and a pair of sleep shorts. He’s on babysitting duty, he doesn’t need anything else. You only roll your eyes at him before facing Elijah once more.

“I’m part of this family, too, you know. It should be my choice,” you have to will your voice not to crack, keeping your tone as low and as steady as you can, “I’m not useless, Elijah, as much as you’d obviously disagree.”

You rub your hands over your bare arms, fending off a sudden chill. You feel like there’s ice coursing through your veins. A traitorous tear tracks down your cheek but you make no move to get it. Elijah’s hardened face softens when he notices.

“Baby, come on,” he reaches to grab you but you step back, not allowing him to touch you.

He can’t do that, make the decisions for you. Maybe if you were still human it would be called for but now it’s not. Sure, you aren't a millennium like they are but you’re not a piece of glass either. You’re strong, whether they want to acknowledge it or not.

“Don’t, Elijah,” you back away further, your cheeks drenched but your eyes fierce, “I’ll see you guys in a few days. Be safe.”

You turn and walk away, ignoring all three brothers as they call out to you, heading up to your room before any of them decide to follow you. You close the door, not slamming it but not exactly shutting it gently either. You can hear Elijah sigh from the front hall and you know he’s tugging on his hair. Klaus swears, his frustrated voice floating up to your ears. More tears fall but you brush them away angrily, lifting a pillow from your bed and screaming into it. No doubt they can hear it but, right now, you couldn't care less. The front door shuts and your heart plummets.

You sit on the edge of your bed, gripping your dark comforter tightly. Usually you like being the one they take care of. You like being held, how small they make you feel. Right now, though, it’s too much.

A soft knock draws your attention to the door, Kol’s careful voice cutting through the wood, “darling?”

“Leave me alone, Kol,” you try your best to make your words harsh but you only sound tired.

“Not likely, love,” he presses, “you know I can go all night, now it’s up to you what that means.”

Your cheeks flush and, as if he can see you through the door, he chuckles. The sound echos through your chest, stirring the remains of anger and frustration and mixing them with something hot and untamed. You pull the door open, coming face to face with the smirking Mikaelson.

“Sorry you landed with babysitting duty, Kol, but I’ve kept myself alive for three hundred years now and I’m pretty sure I can handle two more days on my own. Why don’t you go help Elijah and Klaus, yeah? Seeing as you are the only three who can actually do any good. I’m clearly not strong enough to do anything so I’ll just sit here and look pretty and do absolutely nothing at all because I’m useless. Okay?”

With that you close the door in his face. Well, you try to but he wedges his body in the way so you can’t shut him out. Whatever smile had previously been on his face is long gone and in its place sits a deep frown. His brown eyes ice over slightly and he stands taller than he did mere seconds ago. You can feel a switch in the atmosphere and suddenly you’re face to face. You honestly can’t tell which one of you is more pissed off.

“So that’s how you want to play this, love,” he pushes closer to you, “you want to get angry, yeah? Alright darling, I can do that.”

You open your mouth to protest but before any profanities can fly out his lips are on yours, fierce and strong. He uses his foot to kick the door closed, slamming it into place. It’s done merely for effect. No one is home but the two of you. He spins you around aggressively, pushing you roughly against the hardwood. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, no doubt drawing blood. As if on cue a copper taste fills your mouth, drowning your senses in red. This time, though, the anger is mixed with a wicked kind of lust.

Your hands find his hair without your permission, tugging harshly at the roots. He groans into your mouth, a sound that makes you want to slap him across the face and wrap your legs around him all the same. His hand snakes around your waist, squeezing your hip with a fervour that will no doubt leave bruises that will take longer than usual to heal. He pushes against you, every single part of him rock hard.

“God fucking damnit, Kol,” his lips find your throat with painful ease, sucking the sensitive skin into his mouth in a way thats just this side of painful over pleasurable.

Right now, though, you crave every bit of pain that Kol lays on you. In a sick way you’re proving that you can take it. That you’re strong enough to do the things that they do. Another flash of red floods your vision when you think of the other two Mikaelson's who refused to let you help. You drag one of your hands down Kol’s back, scratching hard enough for him hiss against your neck.

He jerks away from you quickly, only long enough to rip the sweatshirt over his head before he attacks your neck again. He sinks his teeth in at the same moment he rips your tank top in half, lulling you into that sweet mixture of pleasure and pain, hate and lust once more. His shoulders are deliciously toned under your searching fingers and this time when you drag your nails down his back you know you draw blood. Serves him right anyway.

“Fuck, baby,” he wraps a hand around both of your wrists, pinning your hands above your head, “that kinda hurt.”

You want to claw the smirk off of his face. Or kiss it. You can’t quite decide. His other hand is slowly sliding up your back, inching towards the clasp of your bra. His eyes burn into yours, the inferno behind them nothing less than intense. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears so loud it’s almost hypnotic when combined with the tantalizing draw of his hand. It lulls you into a false sense of security, your eyelids heavy in anticipation. He stops moving when his fingers are about to undo the hooks.

He pushes his hips closer to yours, locking you between his body and the door. His stomach is hot against yours and cut like marble. Your fingers itch to feel every bump and dip with agonizing intricacy. Every inch of your skin is alight, every hair raised waiting for anything to happen. You can feel every breath he takes as if it’s your own, your covered breasts just barely grazing him with each rise and fall of his chest. It’s delicious torture.

“Before we go any further here, I need to know what you want. Do you want some quick fuck that’s going to leave you more angry when it’s done?” He rolls his hips against yours, sending sparks flying through your body at the first real touch you’ve had tonight, “or do you want me to make love to you like you know I can. And make all these terrible feelings go away. It’s your choice, darling?”

His words tangle and knot in the pit of your stomach, weaving through the white hot hatred that had been building in your stomach until it explodes. They hit you right at the source like missiles aimed with the utmost precision to destroy every bit of anger left in you. Tears prickle at the edge of your vision, your senses overloaded from the sudden loss of your fury. All that’s left in its wake is this gut wrenching feeling of not being good enough. It’s the original problem and he just effortlessly broke through to it.

“I,” you tug your bruised lip between your teeth, if only to keep it still, “make it go away, Kol. Please.”

“That’s all I want to do, darling.”

He releases your wrists, opting instead to haul your body into his arms and slamming his lips against yours once more. You waste no time running your freed fingers down his sculpted chest, admiring the way his muscles tense as he holds you up. You push yourself as close to his body as you can get, wrapping your legs around his taught stomach and clinging on for dear life. He kisses you slowly, as if drawing all the negative energy out of your body with his lips.

He walks the two of you backwards towards your bed, sitting on the edge, leaving you straddling his hips in the most delicious way. You push your hips to bring you closer together, wanting to feel every part of him that you can. He meets every movement with his own energy, wrapping an arm around you back to keep you pressed against him. Your body is warming up once more in his arms.

He pulls his lips from yours reluctantly, his hand snaking back to the clasp on your back, “this needs to go.”

You shiver at the light touch of his fingertips on your spine, arching with the click of the hooks coming undone. He pulls the lace from your chest slowly, his thumbs grazing down your arms, memorizing every inch of skin he can get his hands on. His eyes meet yours again and he drops the fabric on the ground next to your bed. His hands, now resting on your hips, trail fire up your stomach as they trace their way over your ribs.

“Kol, please,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, reveling in the warmth of his chest so close to your own, “I need you.”

There’s a glint in his eye again but this time you don’t want to slap him. No this time you want him to do heavenly things to every part of you. You want him to take the last remains of this awful feeling and snuff it out with his mouth. His hands finally crest the remainder of your ribcage, his thumbs teasing the underside of your breasts with tantalizingly careful circles. Tears sting your vision again from all the pent up energy inside of you.

“What shall I do, darling,” his thumbs draw along the sides of your breasts, stoking the untameable fire in the pit of your stomach once more, “tell me how you want me to touch you.”

His fingers dance closer to their target, each stroke driving your brain further into it’s Kol induced frenzy. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can smell is the boy in front of you.

“Kol,” his name falls from your lips in a desperate moan, “please just do something, god.”

He chuckles, a sound that flows like honey and wraps around every inch of you like silk. His eyes sear into your own, daring you to break his stare but you don’t. You can’t

“Well I could do this.”

His thumbs roll over your hardened nipples, as if to punctuate his words, and you see stars. You don’t even try to stop the moans that tumble from your lips, turning to clay in his hands. You give him free reign to mould your body in any way he desires, as long as hands never leave your skin. He pinches each bud between his fingers gently, pulling more praises from deep within you. His eyes never leave your face, drinking in each expression with unashamed greed.

“Or maybe I could do this.”

You know what’s coming when he leans forward, It’s quite clear what his intentions are. However, what you aren’t expecting is for the first gentle nip to send you so violently crashing over the edge that you have to squeeze your thighs around him to avoid falling off the bed. He doesn’t stop when you cry out and you don't want him to. Every swirl of his tongue around your nipple sends you spiraling further into the sweet oblivion he’s created just for you. He rocks his hips against yours while his mouth assaults you, pressing the delicious hardness against you while you fall apart.

He detaches his lips from your lips when you start to come down from your high, kissing his way up your sternum, over your collar bone, before settling on your throat.

“So beautiful darling,” he pulls your skin into his mouth as if he didn't just get enough just moments ago, “so damn beautiful.”

You press down on his hard length again, pulling a groan from deep within his chest, “I want all of you, Kol. Please.”

That's all the encouragement he needs to flip the two of you over and lay you on your back. He kneels between your legs, hooking his thumbs in your plaid sleep shorts and pulling them off much faster than he had down with your bra. He’s more than warmed up now, something that excites you to no end. You’re left laying in a pair of black lace panties that match the bra on your floor.

Kol’s eyes go dark at the sight, a growl that hardens your nipples again rumbling through the air. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh before pulling the lace off of you once more and adding it to the growing pile of clothes. He kisses the junction of your thigh next, sending electricity rippling through your body. It restarts the heat once more and the familiar wildfire rips through your abdomen. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to stand many more orgasms if each one is to be like the first.

“Please just make love to me, Kol, I need to feel you.”

He lifts his head from your thighs, a sight that you will never grow tired of, and his eyes set ablaze, “I was made for nothing more.”

Your heart flutters rapidly in your chest, a warmth spreading like butter over your bones. He kicks his own shorts and boxers off quickly, moving back up your body to rest between your legs. You drink in the heat radiating off his body, allowing it to soothe the remaining ache leftover from your small throw down. His one hand slips under your head, lacing through your hair gently. The other reaches between you, lining himself up against your opening. The slightest touch of him against you is enough to have you mewling his name already.

He teases you slightly, taking his sweet time before pushing in. The first thrust is pure magic, filling you in the way that only Kol can. Each of you boys feel different. Kol lights every one of your nerves on fire with his slow movements. He makes you feel every deliberate movement. He makes you know that every circle of his hips, every time he joins you together is done to perfection exactly how he intends. Kol makes you aware of your entire body and just how much control he has over it.

He pulls back slowly before thrusting back inside of you hard enough to rock your bed into the wall. You clench around him without warning, pulling your name from his lips with mouthwatering ease and sending small shocks through your lower half.

“Christ, baby,” he rocks his hips deeper into yours, burying himself all the way inside you, “how are you so close again already.”

You giggle quietly from underneath him, wrapping your legs around his hips and rolling your own to meet his thrusts. Your hands glide over his shoulders, soothing the scratches you left earlier. You draw his face to your own, pulling his lips down to graze yours. You want him to feel every word you say.

“Don’t play coy, you know exactly what you’re doing,” the end of your sentence is blurred with unrelenting moans.

His hand grabs your leg, pushing your knee to your chest before pushing you into the mattress with a world altering thrust, “you’re right darling, I just like to hear you say it.”

He closes the gap between your lips with another shattering push, your walls clenching harder than before around him again. You swallow each moan that slips from his mouth and into yours. His nutmeg scent clings to you and you know it will take days to scrub him off of you, not that you want to. You could very well spend the next century wrapped up in Kol in every single way possible.

He picks up the pace, slamming into you with controlled ease. Your hands lace through his hair, keeping him as close to you as possible. Your senses are overwhelmingly heightened, allowing you to feel every damned inch of him. You’re in serious danger of falling apart. The fiery ball in your stomach is at its peak once more. When he pulls your lip between his teeth, and you taste the crimson, it explodes.

This time you don't just see stars, you see the sun and the moon and every planet in the solar system. He continues to move in and out of you, drawing out the intensity of your orgasm as he rides his own out. You cling to him with everything you have, refusing to breathe anything but Kol. Everything in this moment is about him and the way he makes you feel. Nothing else matters anymore. Perhaps nothing even mattered before. All there is, all there has ever been, is this one moment.

When you finally land back on earth, he slowly pulls out of you, giving you one last taste of electricity before drawing you to lay on his chest. Your ears ring from the energy you just exerted at Kol’s mercy, your skin deliciously sticky against his own. You're completely and undeniably spent.

You don’t realize that you’re crying until you go to speak, “Kol.”

You feel the sharp inhale he takes rather than hear it. Before you can blink the fresh wave of tears away he’s flipped you around, laying between your legs again and propped up on his elbows. His face is pure concern, his eyebrows creased together in a way that makes you want to smooth every harsh line away. It makes you cry that much harder.

“Darling, talk to me,” he runs a soothing hand down your thigh, pulling you close to him, “what’s wrong baby?”

The tears pour faster at the gentle tone in his voice, drawing an answer to the surface before you even process what you’re saying, “Do they think I’m useless? Do you?”

Your voice is shattered, all the emotions from today coming together in yet another crescendo. You can hear your blood rushing through your ears, drowning out the sounds around you. It’s probably the reason you miss the footsteps pounding up the stairs. You can feel Kol’s soft caresses but just barely. The only thing registering in your mind is the feeling of being completely and utterly weak. Why do they keep you around if you can’t even hold your own?

“God’s no, never. Not even a little bit,” just as Kol speaks, the door opens.

Well, the door slams open, hitting the wall with a crack that echoes through the large house. Kol isn’t startled. He should be but he doesn’t even flinch at the bang. You, on the other hand, tense underneath him, the pounding in your ears still as intense as before. A woodsy scent flows through the now open doorway, pine mingling with your already nutty skin. The pieces start clicking together, albeit at a slower pace than you like.

You’re almost certain you know who’s in the doorway but you look anyway to make sure, “Elijah.”

His name is a whisper and it gets lost under Elijah's own words, his dark eyes searing into yours, “Kol, do you mind giving us a moment?”

Kol glances down at you, a small smile playing on his lips. You plead with him to stay but this is Kol, he’s your hell-raiser. He places a soft kiss on your forehead before he stands, still completely naked, and walks out of the room.

He pauses on the other side of the door, settling a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “careful brother, she scratches.”

Elijah shuts the door when he leaves, much gentler than he had been when opening. Your boys, always the ones for theatrics. He leans against the frame, folding his arms over his chest. You stand from the bed, trying to meet his height but failing. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand but it doesn’t do much to clear the droplets. He tracks your every movement with a fire raging behind his chocolate eyes. You’re painfully aware of how much of your skin is on display for him; that is, all of it.

“What,” you pause when your voice cracks, stealing a moment to compose yourself, “what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be off saving the day.”

He pushes off the door, taking a few steps towards you. You can see he's fighting back a lot of primal instincts. He's as affected by your lack of clothes as you are. His eyes shift rapidly between his usual brown and a deeper coal colour. Despite the situation, you can’t help the heat seeping from between your thighs. He stops a few feet in front of you. There’s no way he can’t smell you right now.

“I was needed elsewhere,” his eyes dip down momentarily, his jaw clenching, “by someone infinitely more important.”

You watch him squeeze his fists together, forcing his eyes to remain on yours. The determination in them is unwavering and fierce. He takes another step towards you.

“It seemed important a few hours ago,” you drop your eyes to your feet, breaking his stare.

He grabs your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him and, in turn, igniting your body, “I assure you it was not nearly as important as making sure that you’re ok.”

Your throat tightens, aching with the promise of even more tears. You wish you could just stop. You’re not afraid to cry but usually you can control it. Right now you can’t. Everything has been building, every little insecurity has pooled, and today was the chip in the damn needed to make the whole thing collapse. It’s too much.

“I’m not,” you wrap your arms tight around yourself, gripping your arms with bruising strength to try and hold back the tremors, “ I am not okay Eli. I feel so helpless. Everytime you come home bleeding and exhausted and where am I?” You run a trembling hand through your mussed hair, yanking at the roots, “Here. Always just here, useless, letting you and Klaus and Kol take it all for me. Am I really that weak? That I’m just extra collateral damage to worry about? What is it, Elijah?”

The words pour from you, each one making him flinch like he’s being hit by an invisible enemy. Every syllable is a bullet to his chest. His body tenses further, his eyes no longer holding any trace of their usual warm brown. Instead they're pitch black, the veins under his eyes a deep plum. The veins in his arms pop as well, his fists iron tight. He curses under his breath when you finish. His voice is gravelly and scrapes the deepest pit of your soul.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, whatever resolve he had been clinging to snaps. He pulls you towards him, wrapping his strong hands around your hips and lifting you against him, giving you a second to wrap your bare legs around his clothed hips.

“Elijah, what are you doing?” You cling to his chest, trying to avoid tumbling out of his arms when he begins walking you towards your bed once more.

He doesn't answer your question, laying you down against your ruffled comforter, “You aren’t collateral damage, baby.”

His voice is the lowest you’ve ever heard it, emanating from somewhere deep inside him. He opens the first few buttons of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before making it even halfway down his chest. He drops it, much like he Kol had not long before, next to your bed. Kicking off his shoes, he kneels on the bed, coming to rest between your thighs. The heat emanating from you is now a furnace and it in no way goes unnoticed by him. His dark eyes swim across your naked body, drinking in every inch.

“Eli-” whatever you’re going to say is obliterated when he leans down and attaches his lips to the crook of your thigh, dangerously close to being exactly where you need him.

“You aren't weak,” he moves to your other thigh, nipping at the delicate skin and pulling unintelligible murmurs from your throat.

He kisses his way to your center, the anticipation growing like a knot in your stomach, begging to be unraveled once more. Even in the midst of falling apart you can’t get enough of these men. He lays a soft kiss against you, offering you the slightest glimpse of what you know his mouth can do. In the exact same way you had with Kol earlier, every part of you craves Elijah.

Your body arches willingly to meet the first swipe of his tongue, his name falling from your lips like a praise, “you aren't a burden to me, you beautiful creature.”

You cry out as he works his mouth expertly against you, his words humming ecstasy into your skin, melting away any trace of doubt in your mind. His arms wrap around your thighs, bringing you as close to his face as he can get you. The sight of him completely engulfed in your heat is almost enough alone to send you tumbling right there and then over the edge.

“You mean more to me than anything else on this fucking earth,” his dark eyes meet yours as he works you dangerously close to breaking before letting up once more, “and if I have to spend every hour for the next hundred years worshipping you to prove it then consider it done.”

He lowers his mouth against you harder, sucking your electrified warmth with renewed vigour. Your hands seek out his hair, tugging him against you and raising your hips to meet every pass of his tongue. The smell of pine trees and sex envelope you, brining you the closest yet to the kind of high only Elijah can draw from you. In this moment you’re nothing more than entirely his.

“I cannot lose you, baby,” he slips a few of his fingers inside you, “please let me protect you. I need to. Please.”

He curls his fingers just as the last syllable rolls off his tongue and into your core, shattering you into a million tiny pieces. Your hands fist his hair as your body clenches around his hand, pulling a delectable groan from his lips. Your third orgasm almost puts you to sleep on the spot, each of your muscles completely exhausted. Elijah watches you come undone the entire way through, nothing less than reverent awe locked on his face.

He wastes no time pulling your spent body into his arms, wrapping you as close to him as he can manage. You bury yourself against his neck, admiring how even the most unassuming parts of him have an undue amount of strength. He truly is your warrior.

“Eli,” you yawn into his chest, basking in the warmth of his skin, “I can protect myself.”

He tightens his arms around you, “I know you can, baby, but you shouldn't need to. I’ve been searching my entire life for a meaning. A thousand years of trying to be honorable. Then I found you and, all of a sudden, it all makes sense. All the searching and fighting and pain finally has a purpose: to protect you. Let me take it for you. Please.”

You’re speechless, there isn’t anything else to it. His words hit you with immense power, sinking into your skin and settling around your bones. You’re his, all of theirs, to watch over. You really didn't know he felt this strongly. You’ve always had to defend yourself. Perhaps you just aren't used to someone else being so willing to take on that task. Someone begging to take it.

He stands suddenly, with you still in his arms, and walks out of your room, starting down the hall. The faintest sound of rushing water fills your ears, lulling you into a welcome daze.

“Where are we going, Eli?” You have yet to open your eyes, stuck in the soft between being awake and falling asleep.

He kisses your forehead, resting his head on yours, “Niklaus said he wanted to take a bath, my love.”

[red-riding]

Could you please do some Headcanons for The Company (specifically Thorin, Fili, Kili, Dwalin and Bofur) helping their so who has a nasty fever. I've had one for the past few days and I could use some comfort. Thanks!

Here it is hope you like it and feel better, I hope its okay I just did the Durin line, I feel the most comfortable writing for them. Also @tolkien-fantasy​ I saw your also not feeling well so hopefully this can comfort both of you amazing people, and anyone else who is feeling under the weather!

Durin Line Helping sick S/O

Thorin would be internally worried but on the outside as calm as a stone

He is still worried even when he is assured it is a just a small flue by the healer

He drops all duties as king and will stay with you all day, or even week until you feel better

If you need help sitting up he’s there

need some hot soup? No problem Thorin will get someone to make it for you in a snap, and your favorite kind as well

Thorin does not fear getting sick, he will sit and cuddle with you in bed to help comfort you and keep your warm. I mean what's a better medicine than a Thorin Hug, I challenge you to name one :) 

To help pass the time Thorin will tell you the stories of his people as you lay together through your healing process and you drift off to get some much needed rest in the dwarfs arms

“Sleep well my gem, I promise to get you feeling better.” - Thorin

Fili Is worried even when its not needed much like his uncle, however unlike his uncle he can't hide it and to be frank, its adorable.

Fili basically turns into an over worried mother. 

The second you say your not feeling well you are whisked away in the dwarfs arms into bed

Constant questions are asked to you by your worried lover 

“Are you sure you aren’t cold, I can get you another blanket” - Mother Fili

“Do you want soup? Maybe tea? Hot coco? Maybe all of them would be best?” - Mother Fili

“Are you sure your comfortable, maybe your head should be more supported. You sure you're fine?” - Once again Mother Fili

After everything is deemed ok by Fili, and by this I mean you are covered in ten blankest and have enough hot food and beverages to warm an army Fili will get into bed with you.

As you drift of to rest Fili will hum tunes to you to help make sure you get rest 

Kili is more chill with his sick lover compared to his uncle and brother

Don't get me wrong he does worry, but he also trusts you would tell him what you need and are capable of knowing what you need and strong enough to get through anything.

Anything you need this dwarf will happily get you, and when you don't need anything he will be by your side

He lives by the idea happiness and laughter are the best medicine

He will tell you jokes as you lay in bed, and do funny acts and impressions 

To help get your mind off how crap you are feeling Kili has decided games are the way to go. 

You guys will play simple low energy games like eye spy, or Kili will draw something on your back and you need to guess what it is. 

When you need to sleep Kili will make sure its in his arms so he can watch over you as sleep

[jalapeno-princess]

In it to Win it

Kindergarten Teacher Jinyoung X Reader

Genre: Angst with a fluffy ending (Cocky and narcissistic Park Jinyoung)

Word Count: 3.9K

Summary: You’ve been a kindergarten teacher for the last three years and it’s been such an amazing experience other than the fact that one of the other teachers had it out for you for the last year and you’ve had enough of his brutality. Little did you know the reason why he was so cold toward you was because he had developed feelings for you from the minute the two of you were introduced to each other. Jinyoung never did relationships because he was so dedicated to his job and he wasn’t going to allow you to be the one to change that.

A/N: To the anon who requested a kindergarten teacher Jinyoung imagine a couple of weeks ago I’m so sorry for the delay and I apologize if it’s not what you were expecting but feel free to request again!

“Okay class, raise your hand if any of you have suggestions on how to decorate the door for Halloween.” As soon as the question fell from your lips, every tiny little hand raised and you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at how eager your students were.

“Hmmm, how about you Subin?” The little girl beamed at you before speaking up.

“We could draw a big haunted house and then have ghosts flying out of it?” You smiled gently at her while writing down her suggestion.

“That sounds cool! What do you think Woojin?” He sent you a toothy grin before pointing at his shirt.

“I’d like a big, scary monster with sharp teeth and blood coming out of his mouth.” A few of the girls shrieked while most of the boys cheered on his idea. You however, weren’t a fan and shook your head in disagreement. Being a kindergarten teacher had its ups and downs. You’ve been at this for almost three years now and you’d like to say you were finally getting the hang of things.

Kindergarteners were at that age where they were still learning the basics; manners, abcs, 123s and your responsibility was making sure each and every one of your students had the basic curriculum down before sending them up to first grade. It was almost the end of first quarter which meant the start of the holiday season.

This was always one of your favorite parts of the semester. You loved preparing for the last three months of the year; specifically the door decorating contests. Every year for Halloween, thanksgiving and Christmas, there would be a door decorating contest for each grade level and the prize was a pizza party.

Every year, you had your students come up with ideas on how they would want to decorate the door and you were always so excited to see the effort and enthusiasm they put in to making sure your door stood out. When you first became a kindergarten teacher, you didn’t think much about being competitive; all that mattered to you was that your students had fun.

Unfortunately, you soon changed your mind about the entire event when a fellow kindergarten teacher made it aware that he took the “friendly competition” very seriously and went through great lengths to make sure his class won every single time. Park Jinyoung, in more or less words was the biggest pain in your ass.

From the day that you met him, you believed that he was one of the most arrogant and selfish people you’ve ever met. He was assigned to show you around on your first day of school and when you first laid your eyes on him, you had to bite your lip to prevent you from drooling. He was extremely good looking. Watching as he interacted with his students made your heart warm. Not only was he a sight for sore eyes, but he seemed to get along really well with children and he was very charming from what you observed.

However, Jinyoung made it aware that he wanted nothing to do with you unless he really had to. You never understood why he was so cold towards you, especially because you were nothing but nice to him but it didn’t matter. All that you cared about were your students and your work ethic as a teacher. From that day on, you made a promise to yourself to avoid Jinyoung and his snarky remarks at all costs, no matter how attractive you found him.

There were much more good looking men out there with genuine personalities. Park Jinyoung did not deserve your kindness nor your patience. At one point, you’d find yourself observing him in the hopes that you’d find out he was like that to the rest of the teachers and staff. To everyone else, he was quite the gentlemen.

He held doors for whoever was walking right behind him, always asked how the other teacher’s days were going and you found out that he would buy Christmas presents for the entire staff. You couldn’t remember if you ever did anything to upset or insult him and sometimes you wanted to confront him for his rude personality, but you didn’t want to cause any problems and end up getting fired for something you had no control over.

At the end of the day, you walked outside with your students and sent them off with their parents one by one. After saying goodbye to the last of your students, you were right about to head back in to your classroom when you heard someone call out your name.

“I overheard Mirae telling one of my students that you guys are going to win the door contest this year. Ha! I have to laugh. You stand no chance y/n. We’ve practically already won, so there’s no point in wasting your time.”

You sent him a chilling glare before scoffing. What was his problem? He was acting like such a child. If you weren’t mistaken, he could pass as one of your students.

“You overheard correctly. I plan on beating you this year. Why are you so confident huh? I wasn’t too impressed with your wicked witch last year. Honestly, if you want to win you should just put a picture of yourself on your door. That’ll scare everybody.” He let out a sarcastic giggle before crossing his arms indifferently. God, why did he have to be so handsome yet such an asshole?

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Well whatever, just be prepared to see a bunch of sad faces when my students come running over to your class with pizzas in their hands. Have a nice—you know what? You don’t deserve a nice day. Just have a day y/n. Can’t wait to win.”

You wanted nothing more than to slap that egotistical grin off of his face but you knew you couldn’t. As much as your school believed in equality and treating every employee fairly, you knew they would end up choosing Jinyoung if the choice between the two of you ever came up. Not only was he there a couple years longer than you were, but he was quite the social butterfly and everyone in school seemed to like him. You on the other hand despised him with every fiber of your being and you were going to make sure your class was going to win each and every door contest.

As the days went by, your students worked diligently to color, cut and paste their drawings on your door. Going with Subin’s idea, you placed a big brown sheet of construction paper on the door and stuck on windows and some silly string to use as cobwebs. Then your students made themselves in to ghosts and scattered their drawings all over the door.

Once you were done with the finishing touches and stepped back to take a look at the final product, you were quite impressed with how it turned out and you could only hope the judges liked it just as much. When the day of judgement came, you watched nervously on the side to see what the scores were like. Jinyoung’s door was quite impressive and you weren’t surprised. He always put so much time and effort in to decorating. However, you couldn’t help but feel as if he was the one to do the entire project all by himself.

As talented as the kindergarteners were, you knew they weren’t capable to draw intricate shapes nor cut the paper perfectly. This contest was meant strictly for the children; therefore, you sent in an anonymous tip before the judges could come up with a decision. The day before Halloween, you were notified that your class had won the contest and you were extremely over the moon. In your three years of working at that school, this was the first time your class won the Halloween door contest.

Jinyoung won every single year for the last three years and you knew it was all because he was the one actually working on the door. He was a cheater and you hated that he’s been getting away with it for so long. A huge part of you wanted to march over to Jinyoung’s classroom and rub it in his face that you won, but you weren’t one to stoop down to someone’s level like he seemed to be. You just let your student’s cheers of happiness speak for you.

The beginning of November came and went and before you knew it, Thanksgiving was soon approaching. As much fun as it was beating Jinyoung just a month prior, seeing the broken expressions on his student’s faces made your heart hurt. This wasn’t even considerably fun to you anymore. You enjoyed the idea of winning against Jinyoung, but at what cost? The sadness of twenty three five-year-olds?

How could he be okay with putting his students through humiliation just so that he could win the contest? It wasn’t even about winning the pizza party for his students. His main goal was to beat you and you still couldn’t find a legitimate reason as to why he had it out for you. Your students were excited to work on the door again, but deep down you knew you weren’t going to try as hard so Jinyoung’s class had a chance at winning. Sure, you enjoyed seeing your students so overwhelmed with happiness as they enjoyed their celebration, but you felt bad with the way Jinyoung’s students looked at yours in envy.

After the judges talked to Jinyoung about why he lost last time, he made it his duty to make sure each and every one of his students were involved. Your students drew hand turkeys and it the effort they put in to coloring and cutting them made your heart flutter. No matter how frustrating it could be as a kindergarten teacher sometimes, seeing the smile on all their adorable faces at the smallest little things made it all worth it. The day before the judges came to look at your door, you had a unpleasant visit from the person you wanted to see the least. Before school could even start, you heard an all but gentle knock on the door and you released a frustrated sigh when he entered without you allowing him in.

“What are you—“ he rudely put his hand out in front of you and blatantly interrupted you. You were quick to pick up on his furrowed brows and the way he stormed in and you knew he was upset.

“It was you wasn���t it? You lied to the judges and told them that I work on the door all by myself so that my class would get disqualified didn’t you? I know you were pathetic, but that’s another kind of low. Even for you. You’re going to regret that.”

In most situations, you would’ve allowed him to talk bad about you and just kept your mouth shut, not wanting things to escalate but you were tired. He had no right to talk to you like you were the scum underneath his expensive pair of dress shoes. You did nothing for him to treat you so impolitely. Deep down, you knew you could report him for workplace bullying, but you didn’t want all the unnecessary drama that came with having to list down exactly what he was doing to you.

To both your surprises, you found yourself standing up and walked over towards him. You were so angry to the point where you poked your finger at his chest while releasing all your built up anger and frustrations that he caused you over the last three years.

“I’m pathetic? I’M PATHETIC? You’re kidding me right? Even if I didn’t say anything, it doesn’t take a genius to know that there is no way a five year old, no matter how many worked on that damn door could execute such precise and accurate designs. You would’ve been disqualified whether or not I reported you. Do you hate me that much for you to want to win so badly that you did all that work by yourself? You’re forgetting the entire point of this door contest! It’s for the kids! It’s for them to work together and to have fun while doing it! But no, this is all a competition for you! And it’s not even to win best door! You couldn’t give less of a shit about that. You just want to beat me! Well guess what Park Jinyoung, I don’t give two shits what you think about me or if your class wins the damn contest! You and I obviously have two different mindsets here. I want to win because I love seeing my students happy. You want to win because your God damn ego and pride is so fucking huge and the only person you care about is yourself. From the day I arrived to this school, you’ve been nothing but a prick and a jerk and for what? What reason huh?”

You were so in to his rant that you weren’t able to see the way he was looking at you with an apologetic look in his eyes. What you didn’t know, was that the reason why Jinyoung was such an asshole to you, was because he harbored feelings for you. It may not seem like it, especially because he treated you so unfairly, but it was his twisted way of showing his interest in you. It was also because he never wanted to develop feelings for you. Jinyoung was always focused on his education and his job. He never had time to date nor did he feel like it was necessary to do. But the minute he laid his eyes on you and witnessed as you taught your class and got them to fall in love with you so easily, he knew he was in deep shit.

You were also the talk of the board of education. Even before you graduated from your university with your bachelors degree in education, there were so many schools that were looking at you and interested in hiring you from the get go. Teaching was one of the hardest occupations out there but you did it so effortlessly and made it seem like such a simple task. Which is why Jinyoung felt as if he needed to stay away from you.

He felt like if he were to be so closed off and mean towards you that you would want nothing to do with him. But as you continued to be nothing but nice to him albeit his coldhearted demeanor, it only caused him to fall for you even harder. He hated being so mean to you; you didn’t deserve it and hearing the effect that it had on you made his heart hurt. He was surprised that you put up with his bullshit for so long. Anyone in their right minds would’ve told him off a long time ago but not you. You allowed his hostility to continue all the while keeping that beautiful smile on your face that he loved so much.

“You are the biggest asshole I’ve ever met. I can’t believe all the teachers fawn over how kind-hearted and generous you are. If only they knew the real you. The you that only comes out when I’m around. I’m sorry for whatever I did that made you hate me so much but I refuse to allow you to continue stepping all over me. Now get out.”

You didn’t dare look at him and you were afraid of what was going to happen now that you told him exactly how you felt about the mistreatment, but what you didn’t expect was the five letter word that fell from his lips.

“Sorry.” A sarcastic chuckle fell from your lips and you finally allowed yourself to look up at him in disbelief.

“I’m sorry?” He shook his head and began pacing the room back and forth. This was all too much for your mind to process. You didn’t think you’d be confronting Jinyoung for his negative behavior today nor did you think he’d be apologizing to you for how he’s been acting towards you. Were you still asleep? You had to be. There was no way this was all going on right now.

“No, I am. I admit, I was being a dick. I have no excuse for the way that I’ve been treating you and I hope you know that you don’t deserve that kind of treatment. I’m sorry. Genuinely—and there’s no excuse for my actions. I don’t deserve your forgiveness and I know you’re probably in shock by my apology, but I’m deeply sorry for everything that I’ve put you through. I knew my behavior has probably affected you and you should’ve had me reported for harassing you so much. I know my apology probably means jack shit to you, but if I were to tell you why I’ve been acting this way you’d probably laugh in my face—“

“Tell me.”

He looked at you for a few seconds and you felt extremely insecure under the weight of his stare, but before you knew it he hesitantly brought his hand up to your cheek and began caressing right below your eye. If it was anyone else, you would’ve slapped their hand away and honestly even after hearing his apology, you should’ve yanked his hand from off your face but you didn’t want to. His touch was soft and comforting and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like how it felt. But what did it mean? And how did he go from accusing you of turning him in for cheating to cupping your face with his hands? You felt as if you were about to throw up.

“I—I um—okay I’m going to start off by saying this, Park Jinyoung never falls in love. I don’t do relationships. I don’t believe in them. I feel like they’re a waste of time and effort but fuck—ever since I met you I found myself craving to be in one with you. I know it’s hard to believe and you probably think I’m just messing around with you but I’m serious. I don’t know how you did it, but you’ve gotten me to fall for you. I haven’t felt this way for anyone before and I think that treating you like shit was my defense mechanism because I didn’t want to develop any sort of feelings for you. It was hard not to. I mean—look at you. Fuck, all I ever seem to do is look at you, do you not understand just how beautiful you are? And when I see you getting along with each and every one of your students, it makes my heart feel things I never thought it was capable of. Love. Admiration. Adoration. You—you’re the most wonderful human being I’ve ever met. You’re so hardworking, so selfless and passionate about your job. You’re everything I wish I could be.”

His hands left your face and right as you were about to complain, he brought them down to your hips and pulled you closer to his body causing your cheeks to warm up. You absentmindedly wrapped your arms around his neck and wanted nothing more than to kiss his stupidly handsome face while beating him up for treating you like shit for so long. Hearing his confession made your heart flutter and as much as you wanted to hate him and continue being upset with him, you were just as head over heels for him as he claimed to be for you.

“If you didn’t already know by now, I like you y/n. Hell, I think it goes beyond that. There aren’t enough words that I can put together that can explain to you just how sorry I am for everything—but if you let me, I’d love to take you out on a date and then we can see where it goes from there? But I completely understand if you want nothing to do with me. Just know that I have every intention on treating you the way you deserve—the way I should’ve been years ago.” You took a few minutes to come up with your decision even if you already knew the answer.

“You’re an asshole Park Jinyoung.” He giggled softly before agreeing with you.

“I know. And I’m sorry.”

“I deserve someone better than you. Someone who would tell me how they feel rather than push me away because they can’t accept their feelings.” Although you had your arms around his neck, your words sent a pang of hurt to his chest because he knew you were right. He was afraid that it was too late. But the gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth broke him out of his self pity and he found himself smiling against your lips.

“I like you too. Prick. More than I’d like to admit and more than you deserve. But you need to promise me that you’ll change. I refuse to be in a relationship with someone who treats me like shit. The minute you start acting cold towards me again is the minute I throw hands. You hear me? Man, I’d hate to see how you used to pick up girls back in college. Maybe you’re such a hard ass because you’re single.”

His laughter filled the room and you found yourself laughing along with him. Hearing him laugh every now and then sent butterflies to your tummy especially because of how adorable his laugh was and because of how cute he looked when he tried to cover up his mouth every single time. His eye crinkles were also very adorable and you found yourself getting on your tip toes to kiss both sides of his face out of habit.

“Correction, I was single. And so were you, but now you’re mine. I meant what I said baby, I’m going to take really good care of you from now on. God, I love kissing you. I’ve dreamt about kissing these pretty lips of yours for the longest time. To think I could’ve done so sooner if I wasn’t so stupid. It doesn’t matter anymore, all that matters is us, right now. However, I hope you know that just because we’re dating doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you y/n, I’m still going to win that door contest.” You playfully slapped his chest before motioning him out of your classroom.

“We’ll see about that you cocky asshole.” Right as you were about to open your door, he gripped both of your wrists and pinned them up against your head before placing a rough and passionate kiss upon your lips.

“I can’t wait for Christmas time. I’m going to purposely put up mistletoe in my room so I have an excuse to kiss you. Thank you for giving me a chance y/n. I’m really excited to see where things are going to go for us.” With one more kiss on your lips, he was making his way out the door. But before he could leave, the cutest little voice spoke up and you found yourself stifling back a laugh.

“Our door is way better than your door Mr.Park! Can’t wait to beat you again and eat our pizza in front of you!”

[claralisette]

Clary Listens to Girl in Red

“Clary, Duck!”

Clary hit the floor as soon as her name left Izzy’s lips. She knew what was coming. A crack, and Izzy’s whip obliterated a demon that had been about to land on Clary from the rafters. Clary recovered, quickly, jumping to her feet and impaling the other demon in front of her. It screamed, a horrible sound, and disintegrated into a pool of ash.

It was suddenly quiet again, and Clary could hear the sounds of cars on the street behind them, and the sound of Izzy breathing slightly heavier after that encounter. Clary turned to look at Izzy, expecting her to be three feet away like she was a minute ago. So when she turned, they were nose to nose. Clary inhaled in surprise.

“Are you hurt?” Izzy asked, unbothered. She checked Clary over, while Clary silently stood there, internally trying not to panic whenever Izzy touched her, gently patting her arms, back, and waist. Oh, god, why now? She normally didn’t get like this when they were on a mission. Only when they were hanging out, just chilling, did she let herself, feel….

“Izzy?” Clary said, carefully making sure her feelings were kept out of her voice, “Maybe we should get going. There might be more.”

Izzy, apparently finished making sure New York’s newest Shadowhunter was in one piece, leaned back and flashed her trademark smile. Clary’s heart fluttered, but she was beyond used to that by now. Isabelle’s smile was adorable, sexy, and catching. Clary grinned back.

“We could take them even if there were more.” Izzy said, pulling her long dark hair out of the ponytail that held it.

“That’s true.” Clary said. She headed to the mouth of the alley they had been fighting in, and checked the street. Everything was normal. People had no idea that they could have been eaten by a Shax demon. However, with this street being lined with pubs, and full of drunk party girls and guys, no one really would have noticed anyway.  Clary sheathed her twin daggers. She was relieved they hadn’t been seen; they weren’t even glamoured to be invisible right now. The demons had been following them, and caught them almost by surprise. Almost.

“Hey, Clary, let’s go in there.” Izzy said, pointing at a newer bar.

“Izzy, we’re on duty,” Clary said, shaking her head. Izzy laughed.

“We were on duty, but…” Izzy pointed to a church clock tower in the distance. 2am. Their shift was over. “Come on, it’ll be fun!” Izzy said, dragging Clary out of the shadows and onto the street. Clary smiled. She let Izzy lead her towards the club. There was a line, but Izzy walked right past it. Clary reached up and pulled her red hair out of it’s ponytail, letting it fall down in messy waves. Being a shadowhunter had its perks, and being with Izzy meant that they could flirt their way into any place they wanted.

Out of the corner of her eye, Clary noted the gazes of boys, looking at the two girls. Clary knew what they saw. Two hot girls dressed all in black… and considering she was wearing Izzy’s clothes again (at Izzy’s insistence), they were dressed not only for hunting demons, but also for clubbing.

Izzy barely smiled at the bouncer and he let them in immediately. She smirked at Clary, and Clary knew what she was thinking. That humans were so stupid. Clary had lived as a normal girl, too, until a few years ago, when she turned Eighteen, and her father had tried to take over the world.

They headed straight to the bar. Clary let Izzy order, while she scanned the room. She barely had to concentrate to peel away any glamours that were there. A few vampires were hanging out in the corner. Two werewolves flirting with girls. No one else from the Shadow world. No demons.

“Here.” Izzy thrust a drink into her hand, and Clary rolled her eyes. She drank it, though, and the shots Izzy ordered after that. Why not, right? She didn’t have to be up early tomorrow, and she liked spending time with Izzy…

“Let’s go dance!” Izzy grabbed Clary’s hand brown eyes sparkling as she led Clary to the dance floor, and Clary followed, her head much lighter feeling than when they had entered. Being with Izzy was so easy. She was so chill, so fun, and even though Clary didn’t really like clubbing that much, she liked dancing with Izzy. Or rather, swaying back and forth while watching Izzy dance.

Clary grinned at her best friend and parabatai. Then suddenly, Izzy was much closer, her face inches from Clary’s, hands on Clary’s waist in a way that was different from earlier. What was going on- And then she felt a presence behind her. Ah. Izzy Spun, so that Clary was away from whomever had just tried to touch her. There was a man, of course, but he seemed to be doubled over in pain. Izzy probably hit him. Nice.

His friends were looking though, confused. Clary looked back at Izzy, who smirked at her and leaned in. Wait a minute-

Izzy kissed her, her lips soft, and Clary was sure her brain checked out of the building. She wrapped her hands around Izzy’s torso, a soft sigh escaping her lips without her permission. One of Izzy’s hands tangled in her hair, and Clary pulled Izzy closer, her hand slipping down to grab Izzy’s ass.

It was at that point that Clary wondered if Izzy knew that Clary had feelings for her. Izzy wasn’t stupid, but Clary was sure that Izzy had no idea. If she had no idea before though, she would now, wouldn’t she? Oh. Shit. She would, wouldn’t she?

Izzy pulled away, only to lean in and whisper in Clary’s ear. “Is there anything you want to tell me, Fairchild?” She said.

“Uhh, maybe?” Clary said. Her brain still wasn’t really working properly. Izzy had kissed her, and It was everything she imagined. Izzy laughed softly, and pulled away. Clary thought that maybe she might be mad, until she saw Izzy’s face. She was smirking, but there was something else. Izzy nodded towards the door, and Clary nodded.

When they were outside, Clary took a deep breath. Her head was already feeling better. Izzy led the way back to the alley they had been fighting in earlier.

“Portal. My room. Now.” Izzy said, pointing at the graffitied alley wall. Clary took her stele out of her pocket and obeyed, drawing the portal rune on the wall. And entire section of the wall turned molten, shining and shimmering. Clary barely had time to think of the Izzy’s room before Izzy shoved her into the portal, hard.

Clary fell out of the portal, onto Izzy’s bed. Izzy was already there, the portal gone. Izzy swept over to the door and locked it. Clary sat up. Oh man, was Izzy mad at her? Izzy, however, didn’t look mad.

“Izzy, what-“ Clary said, as Izzy crossed the room back over to her and pressed her lips to Clary’s again. Clary couldn’t even make a noise of surprise, because Izzy had pushed her down and climbed on top of her in the same moment.

“Clary” Izzy moaned against her lips. Clary gasped. Izzy moved her face to Clary’s ear again. “Do you have a crush on me?” She asked, her hands undoing the buttons on the front of Clary’s dress, stroking her hair, her waist, her leg…

“Yes…” Clary said unable to concentrate. She knew Izzy’s dress had a zipper in the back- ah, there it was. She pushed the fabric aside, one hand staying on Izzy’s back, the other one exploring the rest of her body.

Izzy’s hands disappeared for a second, taking the top of her dress off. Clary realized that Izzy hadn’t been wearing a bra, again. She was always Jealous that Izzy’s boobs were small enough to get away with that. Clary pushed Izzy’s dress down farther.

Izzy undid Clary’s bra, immediately playing with Clary’s nipple. “Izzy,” Clary gasped, as Izzy kissed her neck. Clary wanted to touch her, but Izzy was in control, and she wasn’t going to let Clary touch her.

“You’re so freaking beautiful, Clary, oh my god,” Izzy said. “I like you so much-“ She buried her face in Clary’s chest, kissing her. Clary felt like she was on fire. She needed more.

“Izzy please,” Clary said.

“Mmmm” Was the only response she got, which was not good enough.  Time to put hat shadowhunter training to good use, then. With one swift movement, Clary wrapped her legs around Izzy and flipped them over, so that she was on top. She grabbed Izzy’s hand, moving it towards where she needed it, wanted it the most.

Izzy laughed, but she moved aside the fabric if Clary’s underwear, teasing her clit. “Impatient, are we?” She asked.

“Isabelle, you have no idea-“ Clary said, kissing Izzy again. She gently pushed her tongue into Izzy’s mouth, and Izzy let her with a moan

“No idea what-“ Izzy started to ask, but gasped when Clary ran her hand up Izzy’s thigh, and up the skirt of her dress.

“No idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Clary said. Preoccupied with how wet Izzy was. She dragged her finger over Izzy’s underwear, before pushing it aside and slipping a finger inside of Izzy, her thumb finding Izzy’s clit.

“Fuck Clary,” was the response she got. Not good enough. Clary slipped another finger in, playing with her. She curled her fingers forward, searching for that spot…

“You know I’m in love with you, right?” Clary asked.

She was expecting a response, but she did not expect Izzy to cry out, grabbing Clary and pulling her closer, as she came. Clary couldn’t help but smile. Izzy was so beautiful, so gorgeous. “Clary, how do you know how to do that?” Izzy gasped, pulling her down and kissing her. Clary just smirked at her. She was not about to explain that.

“It’s a secret,” Clary said.

“Come her and sit on my face then, sweetheart.” Izzy said. Clary felt her stomach flip.

“W-what?” She said. Isabelle dug her fingers into Clary’s thighs, pulling her forward. Clary obeyed.

“Too tired to get up,” Izzy said, not even bothering to take Clary’s underwear off.

“Oh god, Isabelle,” Clary moaned, as Izzy’s tongue fucking caressed her clit. Clary couldn’t help it, her hips moved of their own accord, and she felt Izzy’s resulting moan reverberate through her. Oh god. And then Izzy’s tongue swirled around her clit and Clary came, Isabelle’s name escaping her lips as a whine.

Izzy’s hands rubbed the back of her legs as Clary sat up, and then slid down to lay beside Izzy, who pulled her close and kissed her.

“Damn, Clary, you should have told me ages ago.” Izzy said after a while, stroking Clary’s hair. Clary didn’t even bother with a response, mostly because she was falling asleep. “Clary?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you need a nude model anytime soon for your mundane school?” Izzy asked, sounding too innocent.

“Izzy if you want me to draw you, all you have to do is ask.” Clary said, smiling, drifting off to sleep in Izzy’s arms.

[justforbooks]

In the Spring by Guy de Maupassant

With the first day of spring, when the awakening earth puts on its garment of green, and the warm, fragrant air fans our faces and fills our lungs and appears even to penetrate to our hearts, we experience a vague, undefined longing for freedom, for happiness, a desire to run, to wander aimlessly, to breathe in the spring. The previous winter having been unusually severe, this spring feeling was like a form of intoxication in May, as if there were an overabundant supply of sap.

One morning on waking I saw from my window the blue sky glowing in the sun above the neighboring houses. The canaries hanging in the windows were singing loudly, and so were the servants on every floor; a cheerful noise rose up from the streets, and I went out, my spirits as bright as the day, to go--I did not exactly know where. Everybody I met seemed to be smiling; an air of happiness appeared to pervade everything in the warm light of returning spring. One might almost have said that a breeze of love was blowing through the city, and the sight of the young women whom I saw in the streets in their morning toilets, in the depths of whose eyes there lurked a hidden tenderness, and who walked with languid grace, filled my heart with agitation.

Without knowing how or why, I found myself on the banks of the Seine. Steamboats were starting for Suresnes, and suddenly I was seized by an unconquerable desire to take a walk through the woods. The deck of the Mouche was covered with passengers, for the sun in early spring draws one out of the house, in spite of themselves, and everybody moves about, goes and comes and talks to his neighbor.

I had a girl neighbor; a little work-girl, no doubt, who possessed the true Parisian charm: a little head, with light curly hair, which looked like a shimmer of light as it danced in the wind, came down to her ears, and descended to the nape of her neck, where it became such fine, light- colored clown that one could scarcely see it, but felt an irresistible desire to shower kisses on it.

Under my persistent gaze, she turned her head toward me, and then immediately looked down, while a slight crease at the side of her mouth, that was ready to break out into a smile, also showed a fine, silky, pale down which the sun was gilding a little.

The calm river grew wider; the atmosphere was warm and perfectly still, but a murmur of life seemed to fill all space.

My neighbor raised her eyes again, and this time, as I was still looking at her, she smiled decidedly. She was charming, and in her passing glance I saw a thousand things, which I had hitherto been ignorant of, for I perceived unknown depths, all the charm of tenderness, all the poetry which we dream of, all the happiness which we are continually in search of. I felt an insane longing to open my arms and to carry her off somewhere, so as to whisper the sweet music of words of love into her ears.

I was just about to address her when somebody touched me on the shoulder, and as I turned round in some surprise, I saw an ordinary-looking man, who was neither young nor old, and who gazed at me sadly.

"I should like to speak to you," he said.

I made a grimace, which he no doubt saw, for he added:

"It is a matter of importance."

I got up, therefore, and followed him to the other end of the boat and then he said:

"Monsieur, when winter comes, with its cold, wet and snowy weather, your doctor says to you constantly: 'Keep your feet warm, guard against chills, colds, bronchitis, rheumatism and pleurisy.'

"Then you are very careful, you wear flannel, a heavy greatcoat and thick shoes, but all this does not prevent you from passing two months in bed. But when spring returns, with its leaves and flowers, its warm, soft breezes and its smell of the fields, all of which causes you vague disquiet and causeless emotion, nobody says to you:

"'Monsieur, beware of love! It is lying in ambush everywhere; it is watching for you at every corner; all its snares are laid, all its weapons are sharpened, all its guiles are prepared! Beware of love! Beware of love! It is more dangerous than brandy, bronchitis or pleurisy! It never forgives and makes everybody commit irreparable follies.'

"Yes, monsieur, I say that the French Government ought to put large public notices on the walls, with these words: 'Return of spring. French citizens, beware of love!' just as they put: 'Beware of paint:

"However, as the government will not do this, I must supply its place, and I say to you: 'Beware of love!' for it is just going to seize you, and it is my duty to inform you of it, just as in Russia they inform any one that his nose is frozen."

I was much astonished at this individual, and assuming a dignified manner, I said:

"Really, monsieur, you appear to me to be interfering in a matter which is no concern of yours."

He made an abrupt movement and replied:

"Ah! monsieur, monsieur! If I see that a man is in danger of being drowned at a dangerous spot, ought I to let him perish? So just listen to my story and you will see why I ventured to speak to you like this.

"It was about this time last year that it occurred. But, first of all, I must tell you that I am a clerk in the Admiralty, where our chiefs, the commissioners, take their gold lace as quill-driving officials seriously, and treat us like forecastle men on board a ship. Well, from my office I could see a small bit of blue sky and the swallows, and I felt inclined to dance among my portfolios.

"My yearning for freedom grew so intense that, in spite of my repugnance, I went to see my chief, a short, bad-tempered man, who was always in a rage. When I told him that I was not well, he looked at me and said: 'I do not believe it, monsieur, but be off with you! Do you think that any office can go on with clerks like you?' I started at once and went down the Seine. It was a day like this, and I took the Mouche, to go as far as Saint Cloud. Ah! what a good thing it would have been if my chief had refused me permission to leave the office that day!

"I seemed to myself to expand in the sun. I loved everything--the steamer, the river, the trees, the houses and my fellow-passengers. I felt inclined to kiss something, no matter what; it was love, laying its snare. Presently, at the Trocadero, a girl, with a small parcel in her hand, came on board and sat down opposite me. She was decidedly pretty, but it is surprising, monsieur, how much prettier women seem to us when the day is fine at the beginning of the spring. Then they have an intoxicating charm, something quite peculiar about them. It is just like drinking wine after cheese.

"I looked at her and she also looked at me, but only occasionally, as that girl did at you, just now; but at last, by dint of looking at each other constantly, it seemed to me that we knew each other well enough to enter into conversation, and I spoke to her and she replied. She was decidedly pretty and nice and she intoxicated me, monsieur!

"She got out at Saint-Cloud, and I followed her. She went and delivered her parcel, and when she returned the boat had just started. I walked by her side, and the warmth of the 'air made us both sigh. 'It would be very nice in the woods,' I said. 'Indeed, it would!' she replied. 'Shall we go there for a walk, mademoiselie?'

"She gave me a quick upward look, as if to see exactly what I was like, and then, after a little hesitation, she accepted my proposal, and soon we were there, walking side by side. Under the foliage, which was still rather scanty, the tall, thick, bright green grass was inundated by the sun, and the air was full of insects that were also making love to one another, and birds were singing in all directions. My companion began to jump and to run, intoxicated by the air and the smell of the country, and I ran and jumped, following her example. How silly we are at times, monsieur!

"Then she sang unrestrainedly a thousand things, opera airs and the song of Musette! The song of Musette! How poetical it seemed to me, then! I almost cried over it. Ah! Those silly songs make us lose our heads; and, believe me, never marry a woman who sings in the country, especially if she sings the song of Musette!

"She soon grew tired, and sat down on a grassy slope, and I sat at her feet and took her hands, her little hands, that were so marked with the needle, and that filled me with emotion. I said to myself:

'These are the sacred marks of toil.' Oh! monsieur, do you know what those sacred marks of toil mean? They mean all the gossip of the workroom, the whispered scandal, the mind soiled by all the filth that is talked; they mean lost chastity, foolish chatter, all the wretchedness of their everyday life, all the narrowness of ideas which belongs to women of the lower orders, combined to their fullest extent in the girl whose fingers bear the sacred marks of toil.

"Then we looked into each other's eyes for a long while. Oh! what power a woman's eye has! How it agitates us, how it invades our very being, takes possession of us, and dominates us! How profound it seems, how full of infinite promises! People call that looking into each other's souls! Oh! monsieur, what humbug! If we could see into each other's souls, we should be more careful of what we did. However, I was captivated and was crazy about her and tried to take her into my arms, but she said: 'Paws off!'. Then I knelt down and opened my heart to her and poured out all the affection that was suffocating me. She seemed surprised at my change of manner and gave me a sidelong glance, as if to say, 'Ah! so that is the way women make a fool of you, old fellow! Very well, we will see.'

"In love, monsieur, we are always novices, and women artful dealers.

"No doubt I could have had her, and I saw my own stupidity later, but what I wanted was not a woman's person, it was love, it was the ideal. I was sentimental, when I ought to have been using my time to a better purpose.

"As soon as she had had enough of my declarations of affection, she got up, and we returned to Saint-Cloud, and I did not leave her until we got to Paris; but she had looked so sad as we were returning, that at last I asked her what was the matter. 'I am thinking,' she replied, 'that this has been one of those days of which we have but few in life.' My heart beat so that it felt as if it would break my ribs.

"I saw her on the following Sunday, and the next Sunday, and every Sunday. I took her to Bougival, Saint-Germain, Maisons-Lafitte, Poissy; to every suburban resort of lovers.

"The little jade, in turn, pretended to love me, until, at last, I altogether lost my head, and three months later I married her.

"What can you expect, monsieur, when a man is a clerk, living alone, without any relations, or any one to advise him? One says to one's self: 'How sweet life would be with a wife!'

"And so one gets married and she calls you names from morning till night, understands nothing, knows nothing, chatters continually, sings the song of Musette at the, top of her voice (oh! that song of Musette, how tired one gets of it!); quarrels with the charcoal dealer, tells the janitor all her domestic details, confides all the secrets of her bedroom to the neighbor's servant, discusses her husband with the tradespeople and has her head so stuffed with stupid stories, with idiotic superstitions, with extraordinary ideas and monstrous prejudices, that I--for what I have said applies more particularly to myself--shed tears of discouragement every time I talk to her."

He stopped, as he was rather out of breath and very much moved, and I looked at him, for I felt pity for this poor, artless devil, and I was just going to give him some sort of answer, when the boat stopped. We were at Saint-Cloud.

The little woman who had so taken my fancy rose from her seat in order to land. She passed close to me, and gave me a sidelong glance and a furtive smile, one of those smiles that drive you wild. Then she jumped on the landing-stage. I sprang forward to follow her, but my neighbor laid hold of my arm. I shook myself loose, however, whereupon he seized the skirt of my coat and pulled me back, exclaiming: "You shall not go! you shall not go!" in such a loud voice that everybody turned round and laughed, and I remained standing motionless and furious, but without venturing to face scandal and ridicule, and the steamboat started.

The little woman on the landing-stage looked at me as I went off with an air of disappointment, while my persecutor rubbed his hands and whispered to me:

"You must acknowledge that I have done you a great service."

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