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macabr3-barbi3 · 5 months

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PrideRing and Prejudice Prompt Challenge!

hello everyone! the Bapple's Orchard Discord Server had a Regency Prompt Challenge that a lot of crazy talented artists and writers have contributed to: here is the Masterlist of everyone's submissions that will be being updated through the day as more people post! There's something for everyone, and will be including RadioStatic and x Reader fics and music!

With that said, here are my submissions! First, have a string quartet arrangement that I did for a Bapple Approved™️ RadioStatic song, Something About Us by Daft Punk 🦌📺

And a short and sweet Alastor x Reader fic- enjoy! 💕🦌

Moonlight on Canvas (Hazbin Hotel Regency AU)

The ball hosted by the Morningstar family had been, as always, a fantastical soiree until you had spotted Alastor.

You give Lord Morningstar’s daughter Charlotte a wave across the room when she spots you, her own arm waving furiously, and as she turns away you see Alastor behind her, caught in conversation with the eager viscount, Vincent Vox. He strikes a silhouette like a portrait, one you’ve painted countless times before; tall, lean, the red of his outfit a charming contrast to his dark hair and eyes. You can see it in your mind now, the brushstrokes you could use to mimic the beauty of him in the lights of the ballroom, the burgundies and crimsons for his jacket, hickory and mahogany for his hair and the darkness of his eyes where they watch the viewer under the shadow of his fringe. It would make a stunning painting, and yet still be a poor imitation of what stood in front of you.

He looks like he would rather be anywhere but where he is, taking cautious steps backwards that Vox follows, and when he casts a desperate look behind himself he catches your eye, brows rising when his gaze settles on you, resplendent in your evening finery.

You bolt when he turns to make his excuses, ducking into the hall that leads to the garden before his eyes can track where you’ve gone.

The cool air of the night is a soothing balm on your nerves as you settle on the bench amongst the roses and tulips, off the main path where married couples and chaperoned groups pass by. Your heart is racing and you wish you had given enough thought to your escape to grab a drink before fleeing. You couldn’t face Alastor tonight; maybe you never could again. Once a close friend, he had been gone for seven years. You had written him countless letters, asking of his travels, when he would be coming home, why he had left so suddenly- every one of them left unanswered, the Viscount having assured you that he was passing your messages along since they had also been tentative friends before he left.

Surely you had done something wrong. He had changed his mind after leaving, your last conversation one about his marriage prospects- “if I must marry anyone, a lifelong commitment to a friend that I have grown fond- to you- would be far more desirable than one thrust upon me by the demands of society,” he had said, and while it wasn’t a dramatic declaration of love you knew what you expected of one another. You wanted him, but you would settle for being part of society, not pushed to the wayside as a spinster as your age went on; he wanted to be left to his own devices, no longer bothered by the mothers of eligible women or fathers looking to make a marriage for business connections. You had thought that he meant you- you must have been mistaken, if his blatant ignoral of your letters was anything to go by.

You wouldn’t let it bother you. You had been waiting for him all this time, but perhaps the time had come to set aside matters of the heart and focus on your life. Sir Pentious, a charming (if clumsy) man was present at the ball, and had made an offer for your hand once that you had declined, no father or brother to convince you on the matter and your mother uncaring of your choices- perhaps you could speak with him and see if the offer still stood…

A branch cracks behind you, tearing you from your thoughts, and you turn to see Alastor behind you, two glasses of champagne held in one hand. “I thought I might find you here,” he murmurs, giving you that familiar smile of his. “Where else would an artist be but amongst the most beautiful scenery on the grounds?”

“Alastor.” You glance through the bushes and trees, not seeing anyone in the immediate vicinity. “I didn’t know that you were back!”

His head tilts ever so slightly. “Oh? So your record setting sprint from the ballroom was for another reason then; I see.” Despite his smile you can see that he’s a bit irritated, his grip on the stems of the champagne glasses making them clink together before he hands one to you. “I had hoped that we could speak tonight- I meant to inform you of my return sooner.”

You take the glass from him wordlessly and down it, ignoring the amused look on his face. “Perhaps you should have informed me of your departure sooner as well, rather than disappearing into the night without so much as a ‘farewell.’” You use your glass to keep you grounded and turn to inspect the flowers, fighting to keep the ire from your voice. You weren’t ready for this conversation with him, hadn’t been planning on talking to him at all really, after his absence.

“Darling.” You hear the compression of the grass as he steps closer to you, entering the peripherals of your vision. “What have I done to earn such a dismissal? Do you not wish to see me at all?”

“No,” you say truthfully, and the flash of hurt across his face strikes anguish into your heart. “I didn’t- I wasn’t ready to see you tonight.”

Even now he is beautiful, especially now; he stiffens his shoulders, his face upset, eyes still bright in the darkness of the night. Amongst the flowers, the yellows and reds contrasting so stunningly with the image of him, you could paint this scene a hundred ways and still never quite capture the raw emotion that overtakes his expression. Depending on how the rest of the conversation goes, that might be the only way that you can gaze upon his beauty going forward- paintings done from memory, sketches on ballroom napkins when you spot him at a party and can’t stop the itch in your fingers that demands you bring the vision to fruition.

The tension seeps from his frame, not in relief but defeat. “I wish you had come to me,” he whispers, pain evident in his tone. “About whatever I did to cause your apparent frustration with me. Before simply deciding to cast me- our friendship- aside. So that I may have had some attempt at salvaging it.”

“What are you- Alastor, you cut me off!” You whirl around to face him fully, hating the sting of tears in your eyes. “I sent you countless letters when you left and you never responded-”

“You’re one to speak of unanswered correspondence,” he huffs. “‘Countless,’ you say- can you not count to ‘zero?’”

“What?” The tension in his frame has returned while he struggles to keep his composure, and he looks away from you, casting his eyes out across the garden rather than facing you. “Alastor, I sent you hundreds of letters over the years- I had to send them off through the Viscount since you didn’t deign to even tell me you were leaving. So many letters asking where you were, why you left, when you were coming back. If you were… okay. I thought you might have died and I was devastated until I saw you today and I thought that you just-” You cut yourself off when you hear the quiet clamor of other voices, and you duck into the shadow of the apple trees that line the path. You watch Alastor track their movements down the path before he turns back to you as they get out of sight, his expression now curious rather than pained.

“What did you think?” He sets his glass down on the bench and steps closer, maintaining a respectable distance between your bodies but reaching his hand out to take yours, pulling the champagne glass from your own tight grip with his free hand and setting it beside his. Your heart is hammering in your chest while you stand there together; if someone so much as saw you out here together-

“Dearest.”

“Don’t call me that,” you manage despite your breath being caught in your chest. “Not now. You’ve clearly changed your mind, if you meant it at all, and I was foolish to-”

His unoccupied hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone and effectively making your brain stutter. “What did you think?” He asks quietly, his eyes lidded as he looks down at you, his familiar smile looking like it means to come back, twitching at the edges of his lips. “Grant me this clarification if you would- a proper conversation might help to clear up any lingering uncertainty between us.”

You can’t bring yourself to step back from his hold on your skin. “I- our last discussion,” you breathe, not daring to speak any louder lest you break the spell that’s fallen over the pair of you. “You had said that were you to marry anyone you would want it to be me, and then you vanished for seven years without so much as an ‘adieu.’ I thought…” You swallow the lump in your eyes, distantly thinking that the blurred image of him before you would make another lovely portrait. “I thought you changed your mind; that you had said something reckless and wanted to take it back without having to have such a discussion with me.”

“It would appear that the charming Viscount has played us both for fools, darling.” He looks like he wants to step closer to you but thinks better of it as a peal of laughter escapes the hall leading to your little platform in the garden. “I am not one to change my mind once I have made a decision; I sent you letters as well. Tales of what I could divulge of my travels- and I will provide more details when I am able to- and questions about what you were doing without me, mentions of how I missed our chats and teas. I inquired multiple times if you had considered what I said, blatantly verified that I would be interested in marrying you whenever I was able to return. I thought your lack of a response was a refusal.”

“Oh my God, Alastor.” The nervous laughter that bubbles out of you is so refreshing it takes over your body, stomach not able to heave the way it wants with the corset in the way of your air intake. “You tried to send your letters through Vox as well?”

“Not directly- I had my aide, Husker, coming into town with my correspondence. He left them with dear Vincent who assured him that they were going to the proper recipients. I suppose I can only hope that no one else was subjected to the same discourtesy and received my letters as intended.” He removes his hands from your face and wrist to clench his own into fists at his sides. “This blatant disrespect of not just my matters, but yours as well, will not stand.” He turns like he means to head back into the ballroom and your hand darts out, grips his arm like to let him go would be a grievous mistake.

“Did you really mean it?” You ask him, and the look that he gives you you want to find a way to paint on the back of your eyelids- fond and amused and relieved, tinged with anger that is not directed at you but on your behalf. “You- you would marry me?”

He hums a bit, glancing back at you with that fond look in his gaze. “As long as you'd still want to marry a man potentially convicted of manslaughter after I've seen the Viscount, then yes, darling. Seven years might have changed a lot, but neither my feelings nor my intentions.” He pulls you closer, almost into his arms then, his embrace so light it’s hardly there, the fabric of your clothing just barely brushing his. Your gasp is lost against the soft material of his coat before you look up at him, smile soft when he directs it to you. “Would you think me a scoundrel should I steal a kiss from you before my possible imprisonment?”

Your heart stutters in your chest. “I could never think anything but the best of you, Alastor,” you tell him, and then whisper, “please,” tilting your face up and closing your eyes, the thought of someone seeing you far from your mind. This moment would make a beautiful painting, you were sure of it; anticipation clear in the strokes of the brush, the colors making the tension and relief between the two of you evident, your emotions bleeding through the canvas into the eyes of whoever looked at it.

His lips press to your forehead, and when your eyes fly open he’s chuckling at you, grin mischievous as he steps away. “I’m afraid this is all I will allow myself, dearest- I can’t be causing too many scandals in one night.” He brings your hand to his lips and presses a light kiss there as well before releasing you entirely.

“Now that things have been cleared up between us, I do believe the Viscount is owed a visit!” Alastor says this cheerfully, a wink aimed in your direction before he's striding back down the hallway to the ballroom, his long legs making it difficult to catch him before he can do something reckless.

You’ve just entered the room, cheeks flushed, when you see Alastor stroll up to Vox as casual as can be. “Alastor!” The Viscount exclaims, gesturing beside himself to a tall companion, dressed in a gaudy shade of purple. “I was just telling my friend here about-”

The crowd never hears what Vox was telling his friend as Alastor’s clenched fist connects with his face, sending him flying backwards into a table and spilling punch and hor d'oeuvres across the floor. His friend looks outraged, a young woman nearby failing to stifle a chuckle into her glass of champagne, and everyone is watching Alastor like some feral animal as he straightens up after dealing his blow and stretches his hand out. “This man,” he says, his voice full of contempt like you’ve never heard from him before, glaring down at Vox’s bleeding form, “is a cad. An encroaching fungus that has wheedled his way into the fine community that we have here and should not be spared another thought. Viscount or not, a wretch will remain a wretch; things such as honor and loyalty cannot, apparently, be taught. I implore you all to keep that in mind!” He offers a smile and a low bow to some of the nearby ladies as a couple of the Morningstar guards are shuffling over, and he puts up no resistance, holding his arms out amiably for them to take and lead him away.

When the guards have led Alastor away, the Morningstar patriarch following out the way they had come, you watch as Vox is helped to his feet by his companion, furiously wiping blood off his face before storming out of the ballroom. You wonder if there’s a way to get your letters back- to give them to Alastor, provide him with the words that you had tried telling him for so long before the opportunity was forcibly taken from your hands. You find a glass of punch from a table that hadn’t been buckled under the weight of a man and sip it while you make a lap around the ballroom- unsure if Alastor will be able to return but not yet willing to let the magical feel of the evening end. There are whispers all around you, about Vox, about Alastor, and you look again to the broken table that hasn’t yet been cleaned up, wondering if they would allow you to take the stained tablecloth to use as a canvas if you stretched it properly.

“Excuse me, miss.” A man speaks behind you, and you turn to see an older gentleman- Husker, if you remember correctly of your tea and chats with Alastor. “His Grace has asked me to reassure you that with the exception of his being thrown into a jail cell, he will come to call on you tomorrow at your mother’s residence; to ask for your hand properly.” He gives a heavy sign, glancing at the rest of the occupants of the ballroom and the group of people that stand to your left. “I was also asked to inform you that should you decide to paint the events of this evening, he would be more than happy to hang the resulting portrait in the manor’s foyer.”

Your face lights up with a genuine smile, something that Husker eyes suspiciously before he walks away, muttering under his breath. You look around the ballroom and find Charlotte talking to a friend and make your way to her- she could be convinced to part with the tablecloth, you were sure of it, and you would use it to make a beautiful piece of art that hung in your new home and marked the start of something that had been worth waiting for after all.

#PrideRing and Prejudice #BapplesOrchardCollabs #fan song #arrangement #hazbin hotel #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #alastor x reader #alastor #everyone is so creative <3

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astrum-aetherium · 1 year

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Henry getting agitated at you during class because you purposefully challenge him, you are academic rivals after all. And him taking it out on you after everyone leaves…

-sun

winding him up for the sole fun of it during class would be such a thrill. constantly challenging and refuting his claims, piping up and perhaps even speaking over him, adding information he forwent... it would set him the hell off.

of course, he wouldn't exactly portray it; you, however, would notice how increasingly tense he'd become, how firmly his hand would close around his pen, how he would need to draw longer and deeper breaths. the agitation would be encrypted in his every gesture, so tense and stiff and thereby obscuring pure anger. it would allure you greatly — mostly because, due to your previously established rather debaucherously-shaded affinity, it would pay off in more ways than one: you would not only prove your intelligence to both him and everyone else present, but also have him generating so much resentful tension that he would have no other choice than to unleash it all on you somehow.

the precise moment class would end, henry would rise into the air rather stiffly, clear his throat and gather his things. then, across the classroom, he would lowly call out to you and say, calmly and diplomatically, "about the last issue you raised — follow me into the library and i will present you with a volume or two that pretty much solidifies my point." at first, you'd even buy into the potential scenario. having drawn your polite goodbyes to the rest of the greek class, who'd claim to be entirely exhausted and announce the desire to retire to someplace other than the library (preferably somewhere with a liquor license), you would let yourself be led down the hampden hallways by a silent, overly tense henry.

on your way there, however, he drags you into the first janitor's closet the two of you walk past. all of your belongings are at once discarded on the floor, and henry's much larger palms restrain you in every way he can — keeping your arms pinned to your sides, gradually pulling them upward and crossing them above your head. his lips would immediately be pressed to yours, as would his towering frame, and you'd merely melt into the curve of his body. a grin would play on your face, mischievous and triumphant — you will have gotten what you wanted.

upon his drawing back for air, you'd quip, "this isn't the library." in response, he would say, bittered greatly, "and this isn't how i appreciate being talked to." whether or not you'd apologize depends on your playfulness, but in either case, it wouldn't make that great of a difference — he would have your face pressed against the cool wall and thrusting into you roughly and punitively some two minutes later in either case. with your hair bouncing in your field of vision, his hand would be cupped around your mouth due to your increasingly bratty urge to make as much noise as possible on purpose.

he would be incredibly agitated with your behavior, marking the fact thereof known via spanking you from behind and feeding you a wholly penal, relentless pace. you'd flutter around his length, dripping on him and down your thighs, which he would only deride you for and forbid you to clean up after you're done — he'd simply pull your tights back over the mess and fold your skirt back over the supple curve of your backside, and drag you back out of the room. from there on, you'd proceed down the hallway with a barely perceptible, yet painful limp.

and yes, he'd still take you to the library afterward to prove his goddamn point. with the evidence of his orgasm still scorching and novel between your thighs and inside you, however, you would find very few reasons to pay exceeding mind — instead, your head would be occupied with various ways to pay him back.

#henry winter smut #henry winter imagine #henry winter x reader #henry winter thirst #indulgent thoughts #astrum asks #i cannot do this today #i need this to happen so badly #he would be so rude and so rough but also so nonchalant about it #poor thing would hate his intelligence to be challenged like that #as a very argumentative person this would be me to a T #especially because i'm an obnoxious language student with a profound knowledge of latin and ancient history

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anashins · 3 years

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The Right Kind of Wrong

Title: The Right Kind of Wrong

Pairing: Jaehyun x You

Genre: hate to love, cheating, college!au, friendship, romance, smut

Warnings: smut, cheating, cursing, toxicity

Word Count: 8.454

Summary: There are many reasons for you to hate Jung Jaehyun. Aside from being cocky and selfish, the fact that he is dating your best friend is another one of them. But his mesmerizing smile - to hell with it - just isn't.

____

There were at least a hundred things you hated about Jung Jaehyun.

The fact that he was dating your best friend was just one of them.

Not a single day had passed by in the last year in which she hadn’t complained about her boyfriend having flirted with another woman, having ditched her again, going to a party and ignoring her all night, or simply dragging her mood down by one of his unpredictable and hurtful actions.

Aside from being cocky, selfish, arrogant and reckless, Jung Jaehyun was absolutely incapable of being a decent human being for more than ten seconds, and you were wondering why he was so damn popular despite all his faults.

When you went out with your friend group, he mocked the boys trying to hit on you, telling you they were so desperate for that move. When you were attending the same class, he purposely sat down next to you to distract you from the lesson. When he was at your dorm, he kept moving your things onto high shelves, knowing you couldn’t reach them.

And his smirk everytime he did so… his smirk every time he mocked you was so annoying. But also so hot.

Fuck, you thought whenever his mischievious eyes met yours again, and you had to turn away, at a loss for words and afraid he’d caught you flushing. You were so ashamed, because you actually wanted to hate him.

There were many reasons for you to hate Jung Jaehyun, but his mesmerizing smile wasn't one of them.

You hadn’t hated him from the first moment that you two had officially met as you had gotten introduced to each other through your best friend who was also your dorm mate, though. She had found him on a dating app, and you had found him sitting in your class two days later, talking back to the professor.

Back then, you had started admiring his intelligence and courage. But those were the only two positive things you had spotted so far as you only tried to stay as far away from him as possible, emphasizing his negative character traits over and over again.

But the truth was that staying away from him was a very hard thing to do, and you fought every day for your sanity, trying to be a good friend and suppressing your controversial feelings for a man who was absolutely forbidden to you.

“He went drinking last night and I saw an instagram story of him grinding against another girl on the dancefloor!” your best friend complained in your arms, tears on the verge of flowing. “Who’s doing that even?!”

A few pairs of eyes turned into your direction, but when you threw fierce glances at the people staring at you, they passed by very quickly.

When you had been invited to your friend Johnny’s house party, you hadn’t expected to be spending the evening comforting your best friend, even though that had been your daily routine for the past three weeks.

It had grown toxicly usual for Jaehyun and her to fight in a two to three day rhythm over the smallest things, and although their wonky relationship or whatever it was hadn’t been very steady before with them breaking up nearly monthly, lately it had grown almost obnoxious.

“Why don’t you just break up with him?” you suggested again and immediately felt your heart sink.

It wasn’t like you wanted them to break up because you wanted Jaehyun for yourself. You’d never do that to her.

Your best friend was just constantly hurting, and it hurt you just as much when you saw her suffering so greatly. Jung Jaehyun wasn’t a good guy, and you both knew. Yet, she couldn’t let go of him. You knew exactly how that felt.

Even if they were to break up, he wouldn’t belong to you. Because a friend’s ex was a taboo. So having Jaehyun gone entirely from your lives would kill two birds with one stone.

“Not that again!” your friend whined and retreated from you, sinking into the couch with her arms crossed and no signs of tears anymore. “I can’t! I mean… look at him! He’s so hot, and don’t get me even started about his skills in bed. That’s where we usually make up, you know, so-”

“I’m going to get you something to drink!” you interrupted her and jumped up. “You totally need a cocktail now! To come to your senses!”

You loved your best friend dearly, but you didn’t want to hear about Jaehyun’s skills by all means. At some times, your friend didn’t have a filter, and then, it only spiraled downhill from there. You heard them often enough in the dorm, that was already pushing you to your limits.

When you entered the kitchen, you reached up to get a glass from the shelf, but like most of the times, you were too short for the remaining ones at the very top.

“Here, let me help you.”

A soft voice echoed from behind you, but before you could turn around to follow the tone, the guy had already heaved up his arm and reached over you to the very top of the shelf to get you a glass.

Shifting around, you faced the mischievous expression of the young man you had wanted to avoid and who your best friend was currently crying over.

Without a “thank you”, you reached out your hand to grab the glass from Jaehyun, but he immediately shot his arm up to bring the glass high over his head and far out of your reach.

“You think a simple ‘thank you’ is too much for you?”

“Fuck off, Jaehyun.” You crunched with your teeth and narrowed your eyes. “I’d rather die of thirst!”

“What did I do again?” He rolled his eyes in an annoyed manner as though his high spirits got ruined. “What did she tell you?”

“She told me everything she saw from last night!” you defended your friend. “That’s enough for me to get the picture!”

“Okay, and did the picture somehow include me pushing the girl away after she had grinded on me?”

You gulped.

“Just as I thought.”

He placed the glass on the counter, but somehow, this hadn’t got your both’s attention anymore.

“There are two sides of the same coin, yet all you've ever done was looking only at one.”

He approached you, and the rising hotness in your cheeks made you withdraw until your hips bumped into the kitchen counter.

Jaehyun leaned in and propped his arm against the same spot right next to your hip as he asked, “I know you’re her best friend, but being a friend doesn’t mean supporting your friends delusional, one sided thoughts into oblivion. Being a friend sure means to support, I’m not denying that. But being a true friend means to tell someone when they’re wrong. And I am not the one at fault here, y/n.”

“You were doing many stupid things to hurt her in the past!” you started blabbering just to bridge over the silence you’d get when you would stare at his mesmerizing eyes for a little longer. “How am I supposed to believe you?”

“You aren’t supposed to believe me.” He retreated, with the glass in his hand. “All I’m asking for is a chance to explain myself.”

Again, you were flabbergasted by the way he expressed his thoughts that stood in contrast to his questionable behavior. One of the main things that fascinated you. But you quickly turned this feeling into hate by recalling his wrongdoings from the night before.

Looking at the glass, Jaehyun continued, “Yes, there were many things I did wrong in the past. And I’m not going to pinpoint my finger at my girlfriend to tell that she was doing just as many questionable things as me. But people have reasons for doing the things they do. That’s probably why we’re such a good match.”

You didn’t understand a word. In your eyes, and you only knew about their relationship by what your friend told you and what you observed when you were hanging out, the two weren’t a good match at all.

He was the one constantly hurting her feelings, and she was the one to always get hurt.

Or... wasn’t it?

Jaehyun then thrusted the glass into your hand. “You’re lucky, y/n, you know that? It must be so great, living that freely, without any burdens… So oblivious to everything.”

With these words, he disappeared from the kitchen, leaving you behind all alone with the glass in your hand.

You looked at the item, your face getting reflected in the crystals to unrecognizability while Jaehyun’s words still kept you occupied. They had such an impact on you that you suddenly started to question whether your hate against him was actually valid.

When you stepped out of the kitchen yourself with a full glass of your best friend’s favorite cocktail in your hand, you found her in Jaehyun’s arms again, wildly kissing, his kind words suddenly vanished from your mind upon spotting them.

Instead, there was a little monster called jealousy sitting right inside your chest.

___

“8am in the morning! Who even places classes that early?!”

With a groan, Jaehyun flopped down in the seat next to you.

“Shut up, class is about to start.”

“Man, you must be really fun at parties,” he replied. “The professor is not even here yet.”

“You’re annoying, Jung Jaehyun, and if you weren’t dating my friend, I wouldn’t actually talk to you at all.”

“What are the odds we’re still connected to each other, huh! Tell me, y/n, what did I ever do to you? How did I ever hurt you? We’ve never even really spoken with each other ever since we’ve gotten introduced.”

“And I am grateful for this every single day.”

“What is it that you hate about me so much?” he questioned further, his eyes challenging.

But with your eyes straight ahead and no words on your lips, you ignored him as the professor entered the room only a short moment after, announcing the class’ start.

Your pen flew over the sheet, noting down the professor’s words when suddenly, goose bumps spread all over your arm.

When your eyes followed the trail to its source, your right elbow touched Jaehyun’s left one as a result of your hectic writing motions as you had moved too far to the side. The spot on your skin was so warm and so…

You withdrew your arm right away, placing it back to where it usually belonged, but Jaehyun’s own limb had moved so far to the left that you had no place to rest it next to your notes anymore without having his skin barely one inch apart from you. You weren’t touching anymore, but he was so close that you still felt him somehow.

Of course you could drop your arm and place it on your lap as the professor had stopped presenting the most important points of this lesson. Of course you could just move further away with your entire belongings, but the fact was that you didn’t. That you couldn’t.

Instead, you were fixating your eyes on the board right in front of you, listening to your professor’s words but not actually understanding a single syllable that he uttered as your heart beat fast against your chest.

You hoped that Jaehyun didn’t notice how desperate you were for him not to shift away right now. That you actually enjoyed it, but felt so much hatred at the same time. Not against him, but against you - for feeling this way.

“Can you answer my question, Miss y/n?”

Your eyes widened in shock as you got addressed by the professor by your surname. You were actually a good student who was always paying attention in class. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t have happened. But now you got caught red handed not listening to him, and he was a very strict lecturer.

“I… um…” you stuttered.

“The answer to my question, Miss.”

“Yes… the answer…” You gulped as you didn’t even know the question. “The answer is…”

From the corner of your eyes, you perceived how a sheet was slowly moving into your direction from Jaehyun’s place. His finger was pointed at a paragraph that you had also noted down only shortly before.

Suddenly, you knew what the question was about and answered formally to the professor’s task.

With your heart having calmed down after the shock, you let yourself sink down on your seat again. You had gotten distracted only once by something that shouldn’t bother you at all.

This wouldn’t happen again, you swore to yourself.

____

“No ‘thank you’ again from you?”

You turned around to Jaehyun who had rosen a brow at you. “Is this becoming your thing now? Asking for ‘thank yous’?”

“Is this becoming your thing now?” he returned. “Not saying ‘thank you’? I saved your ass in class.”

“Well, I haven’t asked for that, so go beg somewhere else for attention.”

You made your way through the crowded club, feelling the bass under your feet and the techno music in your ears. Jaehyun was following suit.

“Do you want some kind of reward from me? Because you’re not going to get it.”

“I don’t want a reward. Hey.”

He reached out and grabbed you by your arm, right there on the dancefloor. The feeling from this morning returned, but in a higher intensity as it spread all over your body.

“All I’m asking for is respect.”

You snorted. “Respect? Do you respect my friend when you destroy her weekend plans to go drinking with your friends instead? Do you respect my friend when you dance ass on ass with another girl? Do you respect my friend when you hurt her feelings with your rude words? I don’t like you, Jung Jaehyun, because you’re a bad person, and respect is the last thing you’ll ever get from me!”

You yanked yourself out from his grip and disappeared in the mass. What was up with him? Why was he bothering so much lately and evoking all these controversial feelings inside you by acting like this? He should just stay away.

With your eyes closed, you started to move with the music, all by yourself there on the dancefloor. You wanted to collect your thoughts, but as the music flooded through your body, you realized that thinking about nothing was probably the best way to cope with your inner struggles right now.

You opened your eyes widely when you suddenly felt a hand on your bum.

Turning around with much anger reflected in your mien, you stared at a boy around your age who grinned at you seductively. Your fierce gaze was probably mistaken for an invitation when he approached you further, grabbed you by your hips from the front and pressed you against him.

With his lips on your ear, he whispered, “I like what I see.”

And you wanted to scream. You probably did, but it got drowned out by the loud music, and his grip was way too hard for you to free yourself that easily as you shuffled in his arms.

“Let me go!”

Yet, his hands roamed around your private areas like they owned it.

“HEY!”

Before you could scream once more, the guy got dragged away from you by the last person you had expected it from.

“She said let go of her, you asshole!”

Jaehyun grabbed him by his collar, and his height and angry expression alone were probably enough for the other guy to nearly piss his pants as he hastily mouthed,

“I’m so sorry!”

When Jaehyun let go of him, he slipped off silently and wasn’t seen again.

You stood there awkwardly with your arms hugging your chest, still digesting the happenings.

“Did he hurt you?” Jaehyun asked when he leaned in for you to understand better.

You shook your head.

“Do you want to go outside?”

You nodded.

Jaehyun took you by your hand to lead you through the dancing crowd, and you didn’t protest.

This gesture was the total opposite to the disgusting one from the guy who had harassed you shortly before. This touch was raw and chaste. Nothing to be ashamed of and fight against, but something you wanted to accept wholeheartedly.

When you stood outside of the club, Jaehyun let go of your hand, and you finally whispered the words that he had been longing to hear for quite a time,

“Thank you.”

Against your expectations, he didn’t mock you or return witty words. With his eyes locked with yours, he sincerely told you,

“You’re welcome.”

That was the moment it dawned on you that Jung Jaehyun had more positive sides to him that you had always wanted to blend out. But perhaps, you had reached a point in which this wasn’t possible anymore.

You couldn’t continue keeping your eyes closed to all the kind sides of him. Because the more he showed you, the more you’d open your heart for him.

To you, Jung Jaehyun had to remain a bad person, otherwise you’d fall for him, and falling for your best friend’s boyfriend was a taboo.

“Hey, what are you two doing outside?!” Speaking of the devil, your best friend jumped out of the club’s door and into your direction. “Isn’t the music fun?”

Jaehyun looked at you, waiting for your reaction. You knew that if you wanted to go home, he’d follow. If you wanted to stay, he’d stay too, not letting you out of his sight. Because - and you couldn’t repeat this often enough - Jaehyun was actually a good person.

“I want to go home,” you decided. “You can stay, though! Please just let me be the party pooper all alone, I don’t want to spoil your night.”

“Oh, what a pity!” your friend said with a pout. “You always leave when the party is about to start!”

You shrugged with a weak smile, tired of fighting. “Yeah, I guess so. But I still have a lot of pages to revise.”

“Shall we take you back to the dorm?” Jaehyun offered in a caring voice that you apparently encountered for the first time, and your friend immediately shot a reproachful glare at him.

“Are you being serious right now?” she complained. “She’s a grown ass woman who can go home alone!”

His eyes hadn’t left yours. “I’m talking to her, not you.”

Had it always been like this? Her caring about herself more than about you? If it were the other way around, you wouldn’t let her go home alone in the middle of the night, no matter if you knew something had happened before or not.

Suddenly, you saw your best friend from a whole other perspective. Suddenly, she was the one having Jaehyun on a leash, and he was the one fighting back for his rights, not against her.

Two sides of the same coin… If you were to flip it, would your entire world view change?

For a moment, you hesitated. But not wanting to disturb your friend’s evening, you gave in with a, “It’s okay, I can go alone. Have a nice night!”

But Jaehyun held you back when he insisted on calling you an uber for which he even paid while your best friend continued pouting on the side.

____

“FUCK YOU, JAEHYUN!” you heard your best friend scream later that night from her room, every syllable of hers clearly to hear in your own room while you laid in bed later that night.

The hours before had passed by in a trance as you had only fallen onto your mattress face forward after having quickly changed into your pj’s, that was how much of a toll the day had taken on you.

You just wanted to forget what had happened in the club, but also the thoughts that had constantly been in your mind all the way home that only revolved around Jaehyun. So sleep was the best solution, and you would have gladly continued doing so if there weren’t your best friend and Jaehyun arguing loudly next to you for an hour already.

Then, Jaehyun seemed to return something to which she screamed again, “I DON’T FUCKING CARE!”

Stomping followed the brief silence, a door getting opened, then shut again, and footsteps moved into the direction of the entry door before it fell close behind Jaehyun.

This was a nearly weekly experience for you lately, and usually, you’d just miss hearing their arguments, but this time you couldn’t help but to wonder what they had been yelling about. You just hoped it wasn’t because of you and what had happened to you earlier, because in your eyes, Jaehyun had done nothing wrong.

He had been so incredibly nice and thoughtful that you started to doubt their relationship.

You turned in your bed, wanting to fight those thoughts so badly. Jaehyun was your best friend’s boyfriend, and hence, forbidden fruit for you. But you just couldn’t stop your imagination from running now.

What it would be like in your best friend’s place and get treated like this every day, and the worst part was that you didn’t even feel bad about betraying her in your mind.

Fuck, you only thought and sat straight up in bed, now surely not being able to grasp a light thought to accompaby you back to lseep anymore.

Feeling safe to leave your room ten minutes later as your roommate must have fallen asleep by now, you didn’t think about sleep anymore but wanted to get a glass of water from the kitchen to calm yourself down.

Perhaps, tomorrow, you’d have another look at the entire situation, you tried to convince yourself. After a few more hours of sleep, all these confusing thoughts and feelings might have already been forgotten.

“Cannot sleep yet?”

You turned around and found a half naked Jaehyun only dressed in boxers right in front of you. The empty glass of water in your hands got placed back on the counter with shaky fingers.

“What are you doing here?” you contered.

“Well… she suddenly left.” He shrugged. “We’ve been arguing. You sure haven’t missed that one.”

“I didn’t.”

Still, you were wondering what that was all about, but didn’t want to ask. He lifted the weight off your shoulders himself though.

“It was about you.”

“Oh…?” You gulped.

“When you were gone, I went back to that guy and didn’t let him go that easily. They threw me out of the club and your friend thought I'd ruined the night for her.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

You wanted to make your way around him, but he blocked your way as he didn’t move to make space for you to pass by the door.

“What’s making me a bad person, y/n?” Jaehyun suddenly asked. “ The way I saved you in class? In the club? Tell me.”

“You cannot be serious right now. It’s 5am, draw a number for another day.”

You wanted to slip under his stretched out arm, but he moved his body to block you again. “Number one. Now tell me.”

“Because those have been the only times you were nice to me, Jung Jaehyun!” You clenched your fists, breathing in deeply. “When we go out with our friend group, you mock the boys trying to hit on me, telling them they’re so desperate for that move!”

“Because I heard them speaking about you before,” he declared. “They were not looking for something serious but only fun, one had even placed a bet. I tried to spare you from this embarrassment and eventual lovesickness. Go on.”

“When we’re in the same class, you purposely sit down next to me to distract me from the lesson!”

This one let him smirk. “Because I always saw you sitting there alone. You have no friends in that class, and I thought you might need some company. Besides… I knew you couldn’t afford that book we needed, and I purposely always shoved it into your direction when the professor read from it. Have you never noticed?”

Now you have. And you were flabbergasted.

“Wh… when,” you stuttered, “you’re over here, you always move my stuff onto high shelves, knowing I cannot reach them!”

“Because I love to see the defeated look on your face and your cute pout when you have to ask me to get the things for you.”

You didn’t know what to say further as you stood there, frozen on the spot. You hadn’t seen this answer coming.

“Anything else?”

Yes, there were many things you hated him for, and you wanted to throw them all into his face, but as he was standing there in front of you, not even one more came into your mind.

“I just hate you to the core!” you hissed.

But with calmness in his voice, he only turned, “No, you don’t.”

And then, it was all only a blur.

You wanted to push him away, but instead, you found yourself nudging against his body. You wanted to free yourself from his grip, but instead, you wrapped your arms around him. You wanted to escape from his kiss, but instead, you kissed him back in the same passionate manner he kissed you.

Jaehyun’s hands roamed all over your lightly covered body while his lips moved against yours, touching every spot he had missed out on during the entire time he knew you, because you had always pushed him away.

But now that you had opened up to him, you were scared the time window was about to close very soon, so you had to work fast.

You jumped on him, hooking your thighs around his waist while his hands instantly clung around your buttocks to give you the support he needed to carry you to your bedroom. Your hands remained interlaced on the back of his neck when he placed you onto your bed and laid himself between your legs.

Thrown overboard were all your morals, priorities, and the friendship to the person that meant the world to you. You didn’t want to think about all that, but were longing for him so desperately that you wondered for how long you had been suppressing that desire already.

Jung Jaehyun was hot. But he was a bad person.

Or… wasn’t he?

You desperately ground upwards against him, feeling him growing between your legs, and you brought your hands down to massage his length. Jaehyun interrupted your kiss as he hadn’t expected this move to come, and groaned into your ear.

You smirked triumphantly, your hands kneading muscles until he was pressed hard against your palms. Tucking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, you slid the garment from his hips, revealing his bum. Your hands glided along his curvy, soft mounds, grabbing into them like you were testing ripe peaches.

Jaehyun was pecking your lips as you slid your hands under his body again and closed around his entire girth. He stopped for a moment, but the second he continued on, you started moving your hands, top on top, along his length.

Not being able to concentrate on the feeling down there and kissing you simultaneously anymore, you perceived how Jaehyun got weak with supporting his body on his own arms that he had rested to the left and right of your head. So you decided to take the lead from here on.

Sitting up yourself, you put your palms on Jaehyun’s chest and pushed him backwards onto the mattress. He watched you with surprised eyes, but didn’t protest as you sat on his thighs, eyeing his member with much anticipation.

You slid further down his legs, nearly close to his ankles, and bowed down. With your fingers wrapped around the base of his dick, you led him to your mouth. First letting the tip pass by your lips, then his entire length up until the very middle.

You only heard him swearing, “fucking shit,” before Jaehyun covered his face with his arm placed over his eyes and his other clasping the sheet by his side. Your hair grazed over the area around his navel while you moved your head up and down, cautiously slow at first to give yourself time to adapt to his length.

Then, you started bobbing your head, increasing the speed with every time you came up and nearly let him slip out, your fingers that had closed around him sliding in the same rhythm, adding to the pleasure. The slurping noises that came along with this act filled the room until they got drowned out by Jaehyun’s moans.

He directed his hand towards your head and grabbed it by the back, ruffling your hair between his fingers while he started to thrust upwards, meeting you halfway in the fast motions. Like this, he was able to reach deep within you, but still not far enough so that he could hurt you.

When you witnessed him twitching his legs, you stopped, held him still by the base and decided to tease him further a bit before you allowed him to release himself. With the tip of your tongue, you touched his glans, trailed along the slip and then circled around the entire top part.

Jaehyun’s swearing words came in a never ending trail like a waterfall that you couldn’t really understand all syllables from, but you were sure you did a good job and rewarded him for being patient with the motions from before again, but this time with added pressure and passion.

Suddenly, he grabbed you by your arm, urging you to stop.

“Or else I’m gonna cum,” he said and sat himself up, flipping you around so that you laid under him again.

Hastily, you got rid of your top while Jaehyun worked on your sleeping shorts until shortly after, you were both lying naked on top of each other. You wanted him desperately inside you, because you just didn’t know when you’ve had had sex the last time, but instead of wanting to get through this fast, Jaehyun took his time.

That was when you realized that this entire joining was probably more to him than just sex to get it off. You had thought that because he hadn’t been able to get it tonight from your best friend, he’d take it from you. But the way he touched you insisted otherwise.

If it wasn’t more than just sex, he wouldn’t trail his fingers over your ribcage in feathery-light motions, admiring every inch of your body. If it wasn’t more than a body-focused act, he wouldn’t place soft kisses not only on your mouth, but also onto your forehead, your cheek, your neck… If it wasn’t more, Jaehyun wouldn’t be so damn thoughtful and tender.

He remained his tenderness and his gaze didn’t leave your eyes as well when he finally nudged between your thighs, pushing forward until he filled you up to the brim.

Restraining himself from starting to move right away, Jaehyun took his time to ask you whether you were okay at first when you let out a quiet “oh” that alarmed him. But you were eager to calm him down when you explained that it was only because you hadn’t been with a man in so long, and somehow, after speaking it out, it made you feel embarrassed.

As the boyfriend of your best friend, he’d surely know when you had been in contact with a man the last time, and you hated yourself for being so pressured by society to feel ashamed of who you were and how you lived your life.

But instead of judging you, Jaehyun only nodded and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, and suddenly, you were flooded with such a warm feeling towards him that you nearly cried. Rarely had you encountered a man so considerate and caring.

“Tell me when I can go on.”

You bit your lip and felt the uncomfortable pressure in your nether regions getting replaced by a feeling that you hadn’t encountered in so long. A feeling that made you want more, want him.

Holding onto his shoulders with both of your hands, you nodded back at him with a smile which he then returned. When Jaehyun started thrusting in and out of you, your eye contact didn’t break, and you were sure that right now, you were looking at the real Jaehyun at this very moment.

Not the guy you hated. Not the guy your best friend was dating. But instead the person who wanted to protect you from guys that only wanted to use you. A person who offered you company in class and shared his equipment with you. And a person whose cheekiness and affection he showed through childish acts because he didn’t know how to express his feelings otherwise.

This was not the person you were sure of knowing all along. Probably because you hadn’t even gotten to know him in the first place.

One arm now clung around his neck while with the other, you grabbed the pillow beside you. You threw your head back in excitement, his pushes coming in short intervals one after another, and he was hitting all the right spots with them.

Jaehyun propped his arms up to the left and right of him, lifting his upper body to gather all his strength in his groin area and stopped for a brief moment before he thrusted inside you with such force that it nearly knocked all air out of your lungs, and you couldn’t respond with anything else than moaning.

It felt so good, so… right. But how could something so wrong still feel so right?

Right now, you didn’t hate Jaehyun or your best friend the most, but yourself and the fact that you continued on and on. That you brought your hips up to meet his thrusts with hazy thoughts and his lips all over yours when he slowed down with his movements to dedicate himself to caressing your breasts.

You felt Jaehyun’s hot tongue swirling over your buds, and you shook under him. Not because it felt cold, but because his tender caresses just felt so good. You didn’t have the feeling that he could do anything wrong with whatever he carried out, that was your impression about how well your bodies meshed together.

No, you didn’t hate Jaehyun. You had always only hated how he had presented himself to you. But there was so much more to him.

Sweat droplets showed on his forehead when he continued with the hard thrusts again, the sound of you both breathing heavily mixing together with the sloppy noises of your bodies moving against each other filling the room, but no matter how messy sex was, it was the most romantic thing you had experienced in a long time.

Your eye contact also didn’t break when Jaehyun arose above you, his sweaty chest glistening in the dim light that shone through your windows, and increased his pace even more. When he dropped his head and bit his lip in the process, you wrapped your arms around him and added pressure to your nether regions as you felt him approaching his heights.

It felt very good to you too, but you were by any means not as far as him yet, so you didn’t blame him when he came only a short moment after with a groan that sounded sexy as hell to you.

You held him tightly when he fell limply onto your chest, still breathing heavily from the orgasm that slowly faded. Staring at the ceiling, you smiled with him in your arms, just enjoying the moment when Jaehyun moved away from you.

“We’re not done here yet,” you saw him grin as he laid himself next to you, rolled onto the side and placed his head in his palms as he propped his elbow against the mattress.

You wondered what was to come when you felt his finger tips dragging from your thighs to your navel, then lower again and stopped right at your most sensitive spot.

“Oh!” you let out as he placed two fingers on your folds and started moving them up and down with your remaining juices as lube that made the intense feeling kick in almost immediately.

You screamed when he added pressure and now directed circling motions around the sensitive bundle of nerves. From your half-closed eyes, you witnessed him looking at you with such admiration but also cheekiness as you writhed and wreathed under him, yet spread your legs even wider as release was so close.

Jaehyun leaned in to you, his fingers not letting go of the continuity as he half covered your body with his and just kissed you passionately. Like this, he encountered first hand how the orgasm took over you, and you moaned into his mouth, riding it out against his hand.

It felt like the most natural thing in the world when he wrapped his arms around you right after and pulled you onto his chest, and you drifted off into a slumber shortly after.

Even though the first tendencies of your bad consciousness set in before you closed your eyes, you decided that this would be the problem of tomorrow.

No, you didn’t hate Jung Jaehyun.

If anything, you should probably hate yourself.

___

“YES… YES… YESYESYES, OHMYGOD!”

You heard your friend from the other side of the wall, having rudely awakened you in the early morning hours. At least you thought so. But a glimpse at your phone through sleepy eyes told you that it was past 11am already.

Within a second, you were wide awake.

You were still naked, but the clothes on your floor only belonged to you, and the spot next to you in the bed was empty.

“OH!MY!GOD!.... YES! OH… OH.... AAAAH… OHOHOH… YES!!”

Jaehyun was gone. At least from your room.

Your best friend’s headboard constantly bumped against the wall, and you grabbed your pillow to cover your ears with it. You didn’t want to hear the sounds. Not because they stole your sleep, but because somehow, for the first time, you didn’t feel disturbed by the noise, but actually hurt.

In your mind, you imagined Jaehyun’s mesmerizing smile, the witty expression he was constantly wearing and his deep voice that had showed you for the first time last night that there was a certain softness within it.

You felt hurt, because you knew all the things from last night had been real between you two, yet he was still fucking your best friend mere hours later. What you had shared and felt had been special, yet he was still with her.

And suddenly, you felt hate again. But towards yourself. For betraying your best friend with him. But first and foremost, for betraying yourself.

You had never hated Jung Jaehyun.

You had always felt some certain kind of attraction towards him, but kept telling yourself you hated him to push him as far away from you as possible. If this wouldn’t be so wrong under these circumstances, this attraction would feel right and could blossom. But like this, you could never come to enjoy this feeling entirely.

Your relationship had been doomed from the very start, because given the wicked circumstances, you would never be able to form a healthy relationship. It was like a stain that would never vanish on a white sheet.

So you just decided to continue as usual. To keep this a secret between the both of you and just to carry on with your life.

And to hate Jung Jaehyun just a little more.

You just didn’t know how to feel and act towards your best friend without feeling so much… regret.

“Good morning.”

But the young man stepping out of your best friend’s room wasn’t Jaehyun. But Johnny.

You sat there in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, your mouth agape. And then it started to rattle in your head.

Lately, there were times when your best friend had screamed the name “Jaehyun!” loudly during the act. Those were the times you had actually seen him the next morning. But the nights she hadn’t screamed a certain name, no one had ever come out. And those times, you had counted more than the ones with Jaehyun in the past weeks, just when their loud arguments started on a nearly daily basis.

“Where’s Jaehyun?” you asked without greeting her good morning as you walked into her room.

“Oh, we had a fight last night,” she explained to you while getting herself dressed casually. “And then we broke up. I went away to be with Johnny after throwing him out, and we’ve only gotten back this morning. I hope he left last night already and didn’t stay here.”

“What?” you wondered.

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “I’ll get over it.”

“You actually already got over it as I’ve seen!”

“Oh, Johnny?”

“You’ve been fucking him for weeks already?” you provoked.

She shrugged again. “Perhaps a month… So what?”

You stood there, totally lost for words. “You’ve been crying about Jaehyun to me ever since you got together! That he flirted with other women, ditched you, went to parties and ignored you! And now you’re telling me you’ve been cheating on him for quite a while?! And this instagram story drama from last week?”

She sighed and flopped down onto the bed. “Okay, admittedly, I’m not an angel in this story, but he is by far neither! He was not. There were many things he has done wrong in the past. But then he actually started… doing nothing wrong. Being the picture perfect boyfriend without all these flaws and drama. And perhaps, this is not something that I want, so I started to look around elsewhere.”

“So…” You paused, still processing the shock. “Was it all an act? All the times you’ve cried to me over him lately while cheating behind his back?”

“Not an act, precisely,” she said reluctantly. “Yes, he explained every situation to me. And I was being dramatic over it for nothing, perhaps. I don’t know… I still enjoyed being with him though, but it just didn’t feel right anymore. I want to have men just… telling me I’m right, always coming back to me… what’s a relationship without fire? But Jaehyun didn’t want to do this anymore.”

In your head, you recalled everything that Jaehyun had told you. About there being two sides of the same coin, about you being so oblivious. All this time, he knew that she had cheated on him. He knew what you thought of him, yet he had never made a move to ever explain it to you.

But why?

“As he should,” you then stated. “How you treated him was awful!”

“Only because I cheated on him a few times?” she chuckled. “Come on!”

“I’m your best friend, and yet you lied to me! You twisted and turned stories so that you’d always be the one at right! But the truth is, you’re the bad person here. Not him.”

“Now what? He’s gone from our lives. Don’t care about him.”

But the truth was, you did. Now more than about her.

That was why, an hour later, you found yourself in front of his dorm. When he opened shortly after you had knocked, you stared at him, still gasping for air as you had run the entire way here, with all the memories from last night coming back with each step.

“She’s been cheating on you,” were the only words you brought out.

“I know.”

“For how long?” you asked.

“I assume for just as long.”

You breathed in heavily, not understanding a word. “But why did you stay with her?”

Jaehyun smiled meekly. “Because I don’t think I deserve a good person like you are.”

It ran hot and cold down your back. “I… I don’t understand.”

He leaned against the door frame with crossed arms, and even though he seemed uncomfortable talking about his feelings, he still did.

“I haven’t been the best boyfriend for her most times in this relationship, I admit this openly. We weren’t really good for each other and it destroyed me to the point that I wanted to change. But when I started being the boyfriend she had wished for, it wasn’t right either and she started cheating. So I just settled with it. Because I thought I screwed up to that point where I won’t be able to make anyone happy anymore and also don’t deserve the same in return. Even though I only wanted you...”

“You douche!” You stomped with your feet on the ground.

“What?” he returned perplexed with furrowed brows.

“Everyone deserves love and to love! And you’re not different from anyone else!”

His confusion got replaced with a mild smile. “You’re so kind, y/n. That’s one of the things I like the most about you. But you’re also oblivious.”

Jaehyun pulled out his phone, scrolled through his messenger and started playing a voice message from a very familiar person.

“Why do you even care about this bitch, Jaehyun?!” In the background, you heard music and other people talking. “She’s a stupid nerd, and I’ve only befriended her because she helps me studying and listens to my complains since we’re dorm mates, so don’t even waste a single thought about this party pooper!”

You stood there as though you had been rendered motionless. Your heart had dropped to your feet.

“This is from last night when I quickly went outside again to check whether you rode away safely with your uber and she couldn’t find me directly. That’s why we argued and broke up. No, it’s not the first time she’s talked about you like this.” He put his phone away. “I thought letting you hate me would make it easier for a kind person like you to keep their distance from someone like me. Because, in the end, I will only hurt you too. But the more I started to genuinely like you, the more I felt protective towards you. I couldn’t see her speaking about you like this anymore.”

Your breathing came in hitches as your whole world suddenly crashed over you. Your best friend wasn’t your best friend. She had probably never been.

You stumbled backwards, and Jaehyun stepped forward to grab you by your arm, but you pulled it away.

“I…. I just…” you stuttered. “I have to… talk to her.”

“Sure.”

The whole way home, you only cried.

Not over Jaehyun, but over the betrayal of someone you had considered your best friend, yet had hurt you in the most painful way like no man ever could. And the fact that you had been an asshole to her to the same extent after having slept with her boyfriend the same night they had broken up was probably the final straw.

You were no saint here. You had added to your both’s downfall just as much. And it hurt much more than any heartbreak you had experienced so far.

You had to sort your life out and right now, and amongst this chaos there was no place for Jaehyun in your life.

____

You put the last vase with dried flowers on your shelf, stepped backwards to your room’s door and inspected the final set up.

“Finished!” you praised yourself.

It had taken you three months to move to a new dorm, but this was your last step to a new chapter in your life.

You hadn’t had contact with your former best friend ever since your final conversation in which you had handed the keys over to her. The many conversations before had only consisted of screams, accusations and tears.

She had admitted to saying all those things about you, but also to genuinely have come like you. You weren’t so sure whether that was real or one of her lies again. You had admitted to sleeping with Jaehyun, and she would have forgiven you for that as she hadn’t been really in love with him anymore at this point, but you were sure you didn’t want either in your life anymore.

Your best friend because she had hurt you deeply, and Jaehyun because of your burdensome history. All of you had done so many wrong things, and you were only a bundle of toxic people together, so chaotic that you were better off apart from each other.

But you didn’t want to be this toxic kind of person anymore. So you moved out and left your old life behind.

You didn’t go to that class with Jaehyun anymore, and although you missed him, the touches of your joint night still present on your skin sometimes, you wanted to move on from even the mere imaginations of him as well. You were sure that you’d find a guy just like him, but you missed him wherever you went and couldn’t help but ask yourself “what if?”

The fact that he hadn’t reached out to you either made it easier, and as summer break came and passed, and the new semester started, you had kissed two news guys already, made a new friend group and were just overall happy.

But you still missed Jaehyun dearly and all the possibilities of what could have happened if only your timing had been right in life. Even if he wasn’t the right one for you.

“Is this seat taken?”

And then, one day, there he was again. Taking the seat next to you as though no time had ever passed between the two of you, smiling that mesmerizing smile you didn’t hate.

You only stared at him, and his kind expression didn’t break. When you moved your head to the front again where the professor introduced himself, you couldn’t help but to smile too. Because this wasn’t the expression of a bad person.

People changed, and just like good traits could turn into bad traits, a bad person could turn into a good one also. And they all deserved a second chance.

You had only known the Jaehyun from your best friend’s perspective, and then also his body. But even though you had gotten a glimpse of the real Jaehyun here and there, you didn’t quite know him entirely yet.

But you wanted to. The good, the bad, the real. Jaehyun wasn’t the right one for you, but such a thing didn’t exist. What mattered were only your feelings.

Because in fact, you didn’t hate Jung Jaehyun. At all.

#jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun smut #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut #nct x reader #nct x you #kpop scnearios #kpop x you #kpop imagines #my writing #one shot

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antariies · 3 years

Text

Visions of the Past: The Departing

Summary: The Commander never told Braham about their first death at the hands of Balthazar. Years later, he finds out in the worst way possible.

Characters: Pact Commander, Braham, Aurene, Balthazar

Notes: Commander’s POV (2nd-person); set before Jormag Rising; fluff, angst, hurt/comfort; 5.6k words, CW: blood, gore, character death, anxiety attack; the departing is and will always be one of my favorite instances and it sucks that we never got an emotional confrontation about it between braham and the commander. hope i did it justice. enjoy!

—

“Commander, can I use the Scrying Pool to view your memories?” Braham asks one day, apropos of nothing, sliding into the seat across from you.

You slam your glass of water back down onto the table with a loud smack, screwing your eyes shut and leaning forward as you choke on your drink. After a few seconds of intense coughing and waving away Braham’s apologies, you finally clear your throat enough to be able to speak.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, squinting at him in confusion, “you want to… what?”

“Uh, use the Scrying Pool to view your memories?” he repeats, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Only with your permission, of course.”

“…Ah,” you nod slowly, letting the question fully sink in. You bring the glass of water to your lips again as you search for the right words. “That’s…”

A complete and total invasion of my privacy, your mind supplies helpfully.

“...a strange request,” you mutter into the cup. The only thing stopping you from shutting him down on the spot is the fact that it’s Braham. He wouldn’t ask this of you without a damn good reason. “And you want to see them because…?”

At this, Braham lights up, squaring his shoulders. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what the lost Spirits said. About how I need to be a better leader if I’m going to beat Jormag, y’know? So I figured, since you’re the best leader I know-”

You can’t help the fond eye roll you give him.

“-if I got to experience some of your memories, then maybe I could learn from them,” he finishes, nodding once in determination.

“It’s definitely an unconventional way of learning,” you remark coolly, resting your chin on your hand as you level an even, challenging stare at him. You’ve cowed countless soldiers and politicians with this look alone, honed to terrifying perfection over the years.

Undaunted, Braham sets his jaw and meets your gaze dead on. “I know nothing can replace first-hand experience, but I think this would be a good way for me to practice without, uh,” his eyes flicker down for just a moment and he swallows hard. “Without the risk.”

You quirk an eyebrow at that, but you don’t miss the way he absently fiddles with something small and wooden in his free hand and-

Oh, you think, recognizing it and finally understanding. Oh.

It’s been months, but the memory of your first day in Bjora Marches stays fresh in your mind.

It had been freezing cold in the barracks of Jora’s Keep when you and Braham had gotten locked in, but the ice that froze in your veins when you watched him stumble upon the mangled body of his former guildmate was colder still.

“Alva,” he’d whispered, stricken with grief as he sank to his knees beside her body.

“I’m sorry, Braham.” The words sat like ash on your tongue, tasting the same as the first time you had ever offered your condolences and every time after that. You never really got used to it.

“Garm… used to rest his head in her lap.” Braham had pulled her head into his lap then, smoothing her hair out of her face with the utmost care. You turned away to give him as much privacy you could, but the dead silence in the barracks meant you heard every hitched breath and muttered prayer to the Spirits. When he returned to your side after a few minutes, he was clutching a small wooden figurine.

“It’s Wolf,” he explained softly when he caught you looking, “Alva made one for each of us, but I gave mine back when I left, I… I had no idea she’d kept it all this time…”

He carries it everywhere now: a constant, physical reminder of his failures as a leader and as a friend.

You know the feeling all too well.

Unbidden, an acrid tidal wave of bitter jealousy swells up inside you. It’s not fair. You never had the chance to practice leadership because you were thrust into your rank, your title, in the middle of a war. You had no one to guide you. Every lesson you learned was written in blood and people paid for your mistakes with their lives.

The wave reaches a roaring apex, then swiftly crashes and breaks against the rocks of your guilt and better judgement.

It’s not his fault, you tell yourself, that you were given the short end of the stick. If you had had the opportunity to practice, to learn from someone else’s mistakes without risking the lives of anyone under your command, wouldn’t you have taken it too?

Of course, you think, picturing the Pact Memorial that still stands in Caer Aval to this day, of course I would have.

“Of course,” you say, gaze and voice gentle, “I think that’s a great idea, Braham.”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t expecting- wait, what? Really?” He stares at you incredulously, the beginnings of a disbelieving grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Are you sure? Because I honestly didn’t think you would say yes so-”

“Well, now that you mention it,” you start mildly, before stifling a snort and shaking your head in amusement as he scrambles to retract his words. “Yes, Braham, I’m sure. C’mon, let’s go before I actually start having second thoughts.”

As he helps you clean up the remains of your lunch, you can’t stop your mind from dredging up every embarrassing thing you’ve ever done in the past eight years. You shut your eyes in a fruitless attempt at blocking out the memories, a long-suffering sigh trapped in your lungs.

It’s okay, you reassure yourself, you’ll be in control of the memories you show him. What could go wrong?

“Hey, Aurene- oh. She’s not here.” Braham says, stopping at the entrance of Aurene’s lair.

You walk past him, a smile stretching across your face as you look around the room. It teems with plant life. Curtains of ivy hang from the tops of the room’s arches while giant Maguuma lilies and dozens of other flowers grow out of cracks in the floor, reaching toward the sunbeams that stream in from the open skylight. Clusters of Aurene’s iridescent Brand crystals cover the walls, filling in the holes left by years of neglect.

In the middle of the room, the Scrying Pool gives off a faint light of its own, its waters swirling lazily as you approach. The spot where Aurene normally sits is vacant, though, just like Braham said. Closing your eyes, you reach out to the bond you share with her. It hums at the edge of your consciousness, quiet and comfortable when you’re not actively talking to her. You give the slightest tug.

‘Just checking in. Where are you?’

A few moments later, a familiar sight flashes in your mind. A vast stormy sky, filled with blue-tinted thunderclouds and stretching as far as the eye can see. The Mists.

Then, Aurene’s voice in your head, clear as day. ‘Trying to figure out what Jormag is up to. So far… I still have no idea.’

“Are you talking to Aurene?” Braham asks. You nod. “Tell her I said hi!”

‘Braham says hi.’ you relay.

‘Hello, Braham!’

‘Alright, we’ll let you get back to it.’ You smile inwardly, a rush of affection warming your chest. ‘Be safe. I love you.’

‘Love you too, Champion.’ Aurene croons happily in your head.

“Aurene says hello,” you say, opening your eyes. “She’s keeping an eye out for Jormag in the Mists right now. I don’t think she’ll be back for a while.”

“Oh,” Braham says, slight disappointment coloring his tone, “Does that mean we can’t use the pool?”

“I’m not sure. Wouldn’t hurt to try, though,” you answer, walking over to it. Kneeling as close to the edge as you dare, you lean over to look into the waters. Your reflection wobbles with every ripple from the pool’s constant, self-sustained swirling and you study your distorted face until you catch some movement above your mirrored shoulder that doesn’t seem to be from the pool.

“Don’t even think about it,” you warn lightly, tossing a flat, unimpressed glare over your own shoulder.

Braham, to his credit, looks sorry for maybe half a second before grinning in a way that is decidedly far from it. Still, he concedes and backs away from you with his hands slightly up in surrender. “Oh, like you wouldn’t do the same?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I would never,” you lie, turning back to the pool so he doesn’t see your smile. You make a note to push him into it at the first chance you get. “I’ve used the Scrying Pool a few times now and I can tell you that it’s way easier to view your own memories rather than someone else’s. Feels different too.”

When you first used the Scrying Pool to view Ryland’s memories, it wasn’t anything like Kas’ glamour during the All-Legion Rally. You weren’t just wearing his face and spectating from inside his head, you were Ryland. You felt everything, including his thoughts and his emotions, as if they were your own. It had felt so real that after waking up, it took a few seconds for you to realize that you weren’t him. Aurene had to calm you down as you scrambled around for a flamesaw that was never yours and shouted for a warband you were never a part of.

You can only imagine the state you would have woken up in if you had overstayed your welcome in Ryland’s memories.

It was different with yours, though. Those were easier to fall into, like slipping into a dream, and you always woke up from those with complete clarity.

Speaking of your own memories…

“I think I know the perfect one to start with,” you say, dipping a hand into the pool and focusing on a memory you’ve already used it for. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to access a memory without Aurene here, never mind control it. You don’t even know if two people can go in together, or whose body Braham would end up in. So you start off easy. Something you both remember. The leather of Braham’s armor creaks as he settles down next to you and does the same. He watches on in awed silence as the water glows brighter, swirling faster and faster until a small whirlpool forms in the center and pulls at the lily pads closest to it.

A familiar darkness crowds the edge of your vision and you let yourself fall backwards into the memory.

It’s not hard to spot Braham when his blood-red hair contrasts so starkly against the bright, white snow that covers the land and comes down heavy from the sky.

That, and he’s also waving at you from where he stands outside the gates of Cragstead.

“Hey!” he greets once you’re in earshot, shouting over the wind, “Hey, thanks for coming.”

You glance around. “Just us, huh?”

Braham grimaces. “You heard what Brimstone and Whitebear said. I tried sending out notices too, but…” he shakes his head, determination hardening his features. “Nevermind that, we have to go. My friends are in there.”

Turning your eyes upwards, you catch sight of billowing plumes of dark smoke as they start to pour into the sky. A strong gust brings the stench downwind and both you and Braham wrinkle your noses in distaste at the same time.

“No time to waste,” you nod. “Let’s go.”

You tighten your grip on your weapons and follow closely behind Braham as he leads you through the driving snow to the heart of Cragstead, cutting a path through the strange alliance of Flame legion and dredge along the way.

This is an evacuation mission, first and foremost, you remind yourself. Your gaze sweeps over the empty lodges and homesteads, searching for people. It’s not so different from the evacuation missions you used to do with your order when Zhaitan was still alive and a threat, its Risen minions encroaching further and further into the homes of Tyria’s minor races.

You find the villagers soon enough, all rounded up into small groups in the center of the town and trapped inside shimmering domes of fire magic. An equal number of charr and dredge guard each dome, their mechanical weapons whirring and spitting the occasional flame.

Braham growls at the sight and hefts his mace, rolling his shoulders in anticipation.

“Wait,” you caution, throwing an arm out to stop him from charging in. “We can’t just rush in. We’re way outnumbered.”

“We took care of those other guys just fine,” he argues.

“Those were just stragglers we picked off,” you gesture at the domes scattered around. “Here? There’s a dozen of them and only two of us. We can’t take them all in an open fight-”

Braham makes a frustrated noise and you hold up your hand.

“-which is why we switch tactics,” you finish, flashing a sharp grin at him. “They haven’t noticed us yet. Here’s the plan.”

The thing is, you’re no stranger to being outnumbered. Your entire time in Orr was spent leading handfuls of people on high risk, high reward missions, after all. It was kind of your specialty.

So it’s with practiced ease and calm authority that you explain your plan now, laying out a classic divide-and-conquer strategy that’s gotten you and your small squads through countless skirmishes against all odds.

It’s a flawless ambush, all things considered.

You and Braham hit them hard and quick, fighting in tandem as you push the offensive and give them no time to react or warn their allies before you cut them down. And with the help of his protective guardian magic, you two manage to free everyone without a single casualty.

“Where are the others?” Braham asks immediately as he helps an older man to his feet.

Despite his clearly injured arm, the man pulls him into a quick hug before answering. “They were chased up the mountain, to the shrine. I wasn’t- I wasn’t fast enough…”

“It’s okay, Haslo, I’ll go. Will you be-”

“We’ll be fine, thanks to you.” Haslo claps him on the back. “You and your friend be careful!”

When Braham looks over at you, you nod. Of course I’m coming with you.

The trip up to the shrine is shorter than you expected, but you think that might have something to do with the lack of flaming charr or dredge along the way. That only puts you more on edge and you ready your weapons, wary.

You don’t hesitate for a second at the entrance of the cave, charging in to catch the massive Flame legion charr and his grunts off guard. You’ve only known Braham for a few days and fought alongside him for less, but you two fall into a steady rhythm almost instantly, barely having to exchange words. You make quick work of the goons, letting him take care of the hulking charr. Braham doesn’t even let him get a taunt out, stunning him with a shield bash before swinging his mace into the charr’s snout with a brutal, deadly uppercut, spraying blood across the cavern walls.

With the threat taken care of for the time being, you and Braham free the rest of the villagers and escort them down the mountain, dispatching any stray Flame legion or dredge who tried to escape in all the chaos. While there weren’t any casualties, fortunately, there are still plenty injured, so while he talks to some of the other villagers, you help tend to the wounded as best you can. They have a long walk to Hoelbrak ahead of them, and you don’t envy them the trip.

You’re tying off a bandage when you hear him call your name.

“There you are,” he says, stopping in front of you. “Hey, thanks for everything. Really, I mean, I don’t know if things would’ve turned out as well as they did if you hadn’t shown up.”

“Glad I could help,” you say, tilting your head at him. “What are you going to do now?”

“After we get everyone to Hoelbrak, I’m gonna find out where all these Flame legion and dredge are holed up so we can track them down.” He pauses, then rubs the back of his neck with a nervous laugh. “Uh, that is, if you still wanna come along…?”

You smile and cross your arms. “Guess I’ll see you soon, then?”

The pleased grin Braham gives you is warmer than any hearth and twice as bright.

“See you soon!”

“Oh no,” Braham mutters, the first thing you hear as you blink away the last of the memory. “Oh, Spirits, noooo.”

“Something wrong?” you ask, keeping your voice light even as you eye him up and down in concern. It was his first time using the Scrying Pool, after all. Had it affected him differently?

He shakes his head. “No, I’m fine, I just… I just can’t believe I used to wear my hair like that.”

You keep a straight face for an admirable three whole seconds before bursting into snickers. When Braham groans and buries his face in his hands, you only laugh harder.

“For what it’s worth,” you say, smiling, “I thought it suited you.”

He glowers at you. “You’re just saying that.”

You make a non-committal noise and wiggle your hand in a “so-so” gesture. He groans again, falling backwards onto the floor.

“That was really cool,” he says after a while, staring up at the vaulted ceiling. “Being in your head, I mean. I felt so… in control the whole time. Like I knew exactly what I was doing.”

“You weren’t so bad yourself.” Leaning backwards on your hands, you tip your head back and close your eyes. “You were impatient—well, you still kind of are—but you handled yourself better than some soldiers twice your age. And you’ve only gotten better since then. Give yourself a little more credit, Braham.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him flush at the praise, sitting up abruptly.

“Thanks,” he coughs into his fist, fighting a grin. “So, uh, any more memories you feel like sharing?”

You hum. “Several, actually. Ready to go again?”

You, grabbing the handles of a cannon with both hands and holding on for dear life as The Glory of Tyria lurches to the side, sending Destiny’s Edge, Pact soldiers, and Risen alike sprawling flat on the deck. When the airship finally rights itself, you waste no time, bracing your shoulder against the cannon and shoving hard until you have Zhaitan directly in its sights. The Elder Dragon is on the verge of death, pieces of its own body sloughing off itself as it clings desperately to the side of the tower. You take a deep, steadying breath and fire.

You, the only thing standing in between a crowd of fleeing civilians and a swarm of cutthroat Aetherblade pirates as they drop down from their airships. Lion’s Arch can be rebuilt, but lives can’t be replaced. You do a quick headcount, zero in on the weakest-looking one, and leap into the fray.

You, tracking down your teammates one by one as you tear through the dark, vine-twisted labyrinth under the Silverwastes, an undying behemoth of a Mordrem wolf hot on your heels. You lead them all safely through the maze, driven by the fierce desire to protect your friends. You will not lose anyone today.

You, the legendary Pact Commander, at your best.

After a few back-to-back trips down memory lane, you both decided to take a short break. For his part, Braham had opted to swing his legs over the edge of the pool, dipping his feet in. When he asked whether or not it was okay to do so, you just shrugged and told him you had already cannonballed into the water before. Multiple times.

“How are you feeling? No headaches or anything?” you ask after a few minutes of rest.

“Nope. I do feel pretty commander-y, though.”

You snort. “Commander-y?”

“Mhm. I’ve been in your head too long. Any second now, I’m gonna start spouting a bunch of your expert advice.” Braham clears his throat and puts on an exaggerated voice that you swear sounds nothing like you. “‘Remember, it doesn’t matter how long the hog’s been dead. It doesn’t matter that it’s been sitting in a toxic cloud. You can always try to eat it.’”

You roll your eyes and swipe your hand through the water, splashing him. “Okay, that’s it, I’m revoking your pool privileges. We’re done here.” You pause, expression turning thoughtful. “Actually, I think we are done here. I don’t think I have any more memories to show you. None that would help, anyway.”

“Hmm, what about your time in Elona? I wasn’t there for that.”

“Uh, you definitely were,” you say, shooting a quizzical smile at him. “Or do you not remember storming Joko’s palace with me?”

“No, no,” Braham laughs, waving dismissively, “I meant before that. I wasn’t there for… ugh, what’s his name again? Balthazar?”

For a brief, blissful moment, you only recall the part where you killed him.

Then your free hand flies to your chest on instinct, ghosting over a wound that no longer exists.

“What about him?” you ask, a little louder than necessary. You cringe inwardly, but Braham doesn’t seem to notice.

“Well, everyone told me you somehow took control of Joko’s Awakened army and got them to fight on your side,” he shakes his head, chuckling. “I didn’t believe them at first, but that sounds exactly like something only you could pull off.”

You can hardly hear yourself over the frenetic pounding of your pulse in your ears. “Did they… tell you anything else?”

“Not really,” Braham frowns, finally turning to face you. “Why, is there- woah, hey, are you alright?”

You open your mouth to answer, but nothing comes out.

“Commander?” His voice spikes with worry.

Swallowing hard past the lump in your throat, you try again. Still nothing.

You’re so preoccupied with trying to force yourself to speak that you don’t even realize your other hand is still in the pool until you feel the tug of an old memory on your consciousness.

Ripping your hand out of the glowing water in a panic, you can only stare in horror as that does nothing to stop the ancient, powerful magic from pulling you helpless back into the dark.

Everything hurts.

You wish it would stop.

It doesn’t.

You throw yourself to the side, narrowly dodging a fireball as it blazes past your head. Ducking behind a crumbling pillar, you press your back up against the stone and try to catch your breath.

You’ve bought yourself some time, at least.

This is a fight you know you can’t win, but the walls of flames surrounding the spire prevent your escape, so your only hope is to keep Balthazar distracted until reinforcements arrive.

“Any second now,” you mutter, and you don’t know if you’re trying to reassure or convince yourself.

You grit your teeth as another wave of pain wracks your body. There’s a nasty gash in your side, larger and deeper than the rest of your cuts, and it oozes sluggishly, soaking your armor in blood.

It’s bearable for now, but you can’t afford to be slowed down.

“Are you hiding, Commander?” Balthazar sneers, “How pathetic.”

Your answer to that is to dart out from behind the pillar, launching a flurry of attacks along his flank and back. When he twists around to send a volley of fireballs your way, you just tuck yourself into a neat dodge-roll, avoiding them all with ease. If you wince and stumble on the landing, you pretend not to notice and hope he didn’t either.

“Aw, you missed!” you taunt, sounding way braver than you feel, “How pathetic!”

Balthazar’s face contorts in fury. “Enough!” he shouts, and both the flames surrounding him and the spire seem to burn hotter than ever.

Before you can react, the ground beneath your feet erupts in a column of fire and you scream as your world is engulfed in a white-hot inferno. When the initial blinding agony finally passes, you find yourself sprawled out on the ground, pointed stones digging into your back and your weapons flung too far out of your reach.

Get up.

You only manage to twitch your fingers.

Get up. Now.

Your throat burns raw. When you try to speak, the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a pained whimper.

GET. UP. BEFORE BALTHAZAR-

You sense Aurene before you see her.

“Ah, the scion, finally come here to defend her champion.”

Finally…?

It clicks. Your heart stops.

Balthazar’s been toying with you this whole fucking time.

It’s impossible for you to form words, let alone make any sort of loud noise, so you try to warn Aurene through your shared bond instead, panic rising with every passing moment that she doesn’t respond.

‘GET AWAY,’ you practically roar at her, ‘TRAP. IT’S A TRAP. YOU’RE FLYING RIGHT INTO A TRAP, TURN AROUND, PLEASE-’

And Aurene roars right back at you. There are no words you can hear—you don’t think she’s old enough for that yet—but she can convey her feelings through the bond and right now she’s drowning out your desperate warnings with them. She refuses to abandon you. You are her guardian and her champion and she loves you and you promised over and over to protect her so she promised the same and weren’t you the one who taught her about loyalty in the first place?

It takes one self-sacrificing idiot to know one. You would laugh if you weren’t so fucking terrified of losing her.

Your vision swims and you only catch glimpses of Aurene’s skirmish. She’s a bright blue blur, swerving expertly in the air as she dodges fireballs and lets loose her devastating dragon breath every time Balthazar tries to swat her out of the sky. Snarling, he launches some sort of phantasmal chains at her and-

No.

No, no, no, nonono-

“Aurene!” you scream. The exertion sends you into a coughing fit, but you don’t care.

You’re crying now, too. You don’t care.

Balthazar is saying something, but you stopped listening to him ages ago. It’s a monumental effort just to crane your head towards Aurene, your vision clearing long enough to see her staring at you, eyes blown wide in fear as terror rolls off her in waves.

She tries to apologize and you rush to soothe her.

‘It’s okay, it’s alright,’ you reassure, ‘you have nothing to be sorry for, I love you so much, it’s not your fault, never your fault.’

Maybe you’re projecting a little. Whatever.

You only stop when a giant metal boot steps squarely into your line of sight, blocking her from view. You glance up.

Balthazar towers over you, his giant, flaming greatsword hovering menacingly by his side.

The fear that lances through your gut is primal.

You can’t die yet. Not here. Not now.

He notices the way your wide eyes trace his sword and bares his teeth in a humorless grin. Oh, he’s enjoying this, relishing the power he has over you.

“I thought you would put up more of a fight, given your reputation,” Balthazar remarks casually, circling you. With a lazy wave of his hand, his sword floats over and suspends itself in midair right above your chest.

Your already labored breathing dissolves into short, shallow gasps.

You can’t die. You’re not ready.

He lets the sword hover for a few more seconds before grabbing the hilt with both hands, raising it higher over your body. His face twists with hate, eyes blazing molten gold as they bore hungry and vengeful into yours.

You don’t want to die.

The edge of the blade glints orange from an indifferent sunset.

Please.

There’s a sickening crunch as he swings it down hard into your chest, punching through your armor and sternum and crushing most of your ribcage in the process. Then the blade severs your spine and you lose all feeling in your lower body.

Distantly, you think you hear someone scream, high-pitched and anguished. Was that Aurene? Or Taimi? Maybe both.

Certainly not you, although you’d tried to. What remains of your lungs are filled with more blood than air at this point, and it pours out of your mouth when you open it.

I’m sorry, you think, but you can’t remember what you’re apologizing for. Or who you’re apologizing to.

You’re so tired of blood. Tired of pain. Tired of feeling.

Everything hurts.

You wish it would stop.

It does.

The only reason you don’t wake up choking back a scream and clutching your chest like Braham does is because you’ve relived this in your nightmares far too many times for it to rip that kind of reaction out of you anymore. Still, it takes you longer than normal to push yourself into a sitting position and even longer for your pulse to even out. Fighting the urge to curl up and disappear from the world, you rush over to where Braham sits hyperventilating.

“Hey, Braham, hey, look at me, you’re okay, you’re okay. You’re here, you’re alive,” you reassure, and you’re surprised at how calm you sound. You work on getting him to match your breaths, counting out every inhale and exhale.

“Oh, Spirits,” he chokes out after his breathing steadies, his voice nearly cracking as tears prick in the corners of his eyes, “that was… how- h-how did you survive that?”

Your mouth shuts with an audible click. Biting your tongue, you look to the side, carefully avoiding eye contact.

You could lie.

Lie and tell him the airship made it just in time and the medics brought you back from the brink with a miracle. Another close call, but you pulled through like you always do. Spare him the pain, the grief. It’s been years, and there are more important things to worry about right now. It would save you both so much trouble.

“Commander?” he asks softly, earnestly.

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“I didn’t,” you admit, barely above a whisper.

Deafening silence, for a beat.

Two.

Three.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Braham says eventually. When you finally bring yourself to look at him again, his brows are furrowed in confusion. He stares at you in concern, scrutinizing. “You’re… definitely still alive.”

“I sure am.” Neither of you miss the tired bitterness that bleeds into your sarcasm. You wince and sigh, running a hand over your face. “I’m sorry, it’s just… It’s a long story.”

And to this day, you still haven’t told anyone all the details. You’re not sure if you ever will.

“Who knows?” Braham asks.

The question catches you off guard. “Uh, Rytlock, Canach, and Kas were there when it happened. Taimi… overheard.” You don’t know which is worse: being the one to hear you die, or finding your body after the fact.

They’re not the only ones who know, but they’re the only ones who matter. Even then, you swore them all to secrecy.

“Taimi called me around that time,” he says.

Your eyes widen. “Did she…?”

Braham shakes his head. “She was crying too hard,” he says, speaking slowly as he focuses on remembering. “She said something about you, but she couldn’t get the words out. When I tried to ask her what was wrong, she just hung up on me. Then she called me back a day later to say it was nothing and to pretend it never happened.”

“Huh,” you say, because you can’t think of anything else.

“I always wondered what she was trying to tell me,” Braham smiles sadly at you. “Guess I know now.”

You swallow hard. “You’re… taking this a lot better than I thought you would.”

“I’m not the one who died,” he shrugs, even as his hand comes up to brush across his chest absentmindedly.

But you know how it felt, you think, How I felt.

The thought hangs in the air, unspoken.

“Are you okay?” Braham asks after a while.

“Yeah,” you answer quickly, automatically, “I’m fine.”

He raises a disbelieving eyebrow. “Are you sure?” He looks pointedly down and you follow his gaze.

Your hands are shaking where they rest in your lap. Gritting your teeth, you clench them into fists. They don’t stop.

“I’m fine,” you repeat, more to yourself than anything. “I’m fine.”

The shaking travels up your arms until your shoulders are trembling as if under an invisible weight. This is so embarrassing, so humiliating. You’re pathetic. You-

You don’t resist when Braham pulls you into a warm embrace.

“It’s been years,” you mutter, blinking rapidly against the itchy heat behind your eyes. “I thought I’d be over it by now.”

“It always hits you when you least expect it,” Braham says quietly, “I’m sorry, Commander.”

The noise that comes out of you is somewhere between a laugh and a sob. You know he knows you hate pity, but this is the farthest thing from it. “When did you get so wise?” you tease.

“Learned it from you,” he says, voice tinged with pride, and now it’s your turn to flush. He squeezes you tightly once before letting you go. “Are you okay?” he asks again.

“Yeah,” you say, and this time you mean it. You breathe in deep, feeling lighter than you have in ages. “I’m okay. Thank you, Braham.”

“Glad to hear it,” he grins, and promptly shoves you right into the Scrying Pool.

His boisterous laughter echoes off the walls and drowns out your indignant spluttering. When you pull yourself out of the pool, drenched and dripping water everywhere, he scrambles to his feet and breaks into a dead sprint down the hall.

You chase after him, smiling, and leave your memories behind you.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #gw2 fan submission #braham eirsson #pact commander #me finally posting another commander pov fic after three years: hiiii.... how yall doin....#anyway this fic has been rattling around in my noggin for eight months now. here u go take it from me #i will take a hammer and FIX the commander and braham dynamic #2k4s gc saw it firstttt #thank u pals for beta-reading ilu #if u enjoyed this fic! would u pls consider reblogging? :3c #my writing

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blue-pastel-cat · 3 years

Text

Xiaobedo Fanfic Recommendation

Welcome to my personal “if you are new to xiaobedo peeps please read these” list. As said before this is my personal list so please feel free to reblog/comment/hit me for not including any gem here. I might miss a lot of them because I am drunk or blind. (mostly have them on my to read and then forgot as I am being assault by real life shit).

I would like to say first that so far there are 150+ Xiaobedo fics on Ao3. I can’t review all of them but I can say that I have read a majority of them. Most of them are just pure love and I would like nothing more than a thousands thank you for all the fic writers who spent their free time writting these gems for us to read for free. But these...these takes the cake as it finds a special landing spot in my heart that I would just thrust them into someone’s hand if they say “I am new to this ship can you recommend me?”

1. Orange dust by bobamilkteas (Wes)

In which Xiao learns to open himself up to the world a little more after the collapse of Rex lapis's contracts but it was not always easy for a soul doomed to eternal damnation. Meanwhile, Albedo liked to tempt fate where the extraordinary are concerned.

If only the traveler's comrades are made of saner bunch.

Comment: Long ago when I like both Albedo and Xiao as a character, I was wondering hmmm....will anyone actually even write about them lmao they never met each other. I am surprise to see this one as the 3rd fic in the whole 3 Xiaobedo fic on Ao3 (yeah back when there’s literally only 3 fic for this couple). I was like I’ll read it for the curiosity, I’ll probably won’t ship them. And that people is how I put my clown make up on my face upon finishing reading it. This ONE fic alone convert me into a devotee of Xiaobedo. Please consider joining me in this circus if you want to know what is Xiaobedo. I would put this as the first of my “Big 3″

Orange Dust also come with its compliation of short stories over the course of the game and a big sequel to it. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.

2. Solar Wind by birdpriestess (Sparrow)

For the yaksha, his duty was his life, and his life was his duty. No human could ever hope to understand the eternal war he fought out of sight and in silence.

So why, then, did he feel that Albedo would understand?

---

Finding himself at death's door once more, Xiao is saved by a surprising person, setting off the unlikeliest of adventures.

Comment: Do you like crying? Do you like the feeling of getting your heart ripped into pieces as the author destroy your emotions over the end of each chapter as the story picked up the climax? Yeah, this one is for you masochists. The action, the characterisation, the drama THE EMOTIONS OH WOW. I kid you not that it was so good I read this while workinng when I am not suppose to me. Also, this fic has my favourite characterisation of Gold ever. I love that dramatic queen Mad Alchemist. AND DAIN. I LOVE DAIN IN THIS FIC. Our dearest Sparrow manage to toy with our feelings like how I bully ruin guard for big numbers lmao. This is the secound of “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list.

Again, just like Orange Dust, Solar Wind comes with its own compliation of short stories of what came after that. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.

3. Castle of Glass by AlchemicalStardust (Morgie)

A black shadow rises over Huaguang Stone Forest. Caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, Albedo flees the shaking ground and the crash of boulders tumbling form the sky. As the dust settles, Albedo finds a young man – an Adeptus – amidst the carnage. Despite the karmic agony ripping his body from the inside, Xiao’s only question is “How?” How did a human survive after witnessing his battle?

Comment: The last of the “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list. And it is still on going! Castle of Glass? More like I AM IN A GLASS CASE OF EMOTIONS! Have you read a fic about 2 people yearning, longing, reaching out for each other so damn well that you just want to throw your phone in the air as they both had their impending doom coming down upon them? Yeah this is one of them. You will like want to be stuck in the moment they express how much they just yearn for each other’s love and care that you want to shake the author for what comes next. Like...everytime Morgie update I am expressing my gratitude at the end of the chapter by writing on Xiaobedo discord “MORGIE COME HERE AND LET ME BONK YOU WHY ARE YOU ENDING IT THERE”

trust me when you read you will def feel the same. With just Big 3 and their compliation alone that would give you like a LONG list of reading already LMAOOOOOOO

4. Find a place to call it home by yamajiroo

Our room, he said. Xiao’s brow twitches. Zhongli never said anything about this. But then again, perhaps he should anticipate this from the beginning...

Xiao looks over at Albedo, who is now tilting his head, his look as innocent as ever.

“Are you not okay with sharing a room?”

Comment: College AU for Xiaobedo! One thing that I love this is the slow burn and what made me LOVE LOVE LOVE this fic more is how cute Klee is in this fic. Their relationship in this one is very simple, but that simplicity highlight why their chemistry work. Xiao is someone who was just very gentle, who was largely misunderstood by his lonesome nature. Albedo was someone who like peace and quite in his introvert bubble. And how they respect that bubble that each other has actually made their relationship work. I love it when fic highlight this and this one captures it.

5. I Can't See Your Face From the Other Side of the Classroom by MissWeaver

When Albedo and Xiao unexpectedly start eating lunch together, they begin to find that they have more in common than anyone would have realized. They both struggle in their own ways with blossoming feelings, too many assignments, and annoying classmates as they navigate a relationship for the first time.

Comment: I’ll be honest, I usually hate high school au just because its so cliche. I don’t even watch and drama/anime surrounds high school student anymore LMAOOO (unless it’s very good). So if there’s an high school AU that I actually keep come back and read after a couple of chapters, it means that the cliche that I hate wasn’t there or barely was there at all. The pinning in this fic makes me want to bang their head together sometimes LMAOOO The tag wasn’t kidding when they said both Xiao and Albedo are bad at feelings. Also that’s a lot of heart broken caused by these two idiots XD

6. new world, same me, same bullshit by bobamilkteas (Wes)

At the belly of Dragonspine, Albedo lost control to the festering corruption that permeated his senses and watched, from the recesses of his mind, as his devoured body turned his allies into enemies. Before his rampage reached its climax, he is sealed in a crystalized confinement by the last hand of Reindottir, where he then reawakens centuries after, in a rebooted Teyvat.

Comment: Yeah I know it was list in Orange Dust but here me out. This sets out in an entirely different universe. And if you like Polyamory, this one has Zhongli joining the duo and I love it because I also love ZhongXiao with my life. Time Travel is my biggest kink. Especially when I am the person who love it when people explore Archon War era/ Alatus!Xiao. So this one hits double of my kink. Of course it is still on going and I will bully Wes whenever I can to see that new chapter. Albedo is a total fucking badass in this story and I completely agree from using him in Abyss so often. Everyone should write badass Albedo.

7. misplaced heart of mine by inkburn

“If you are ill, then you should be resting at home. In Mondstadt.” He emphasized Mondstadt with a pointed look in his direction.

“I assure you I won’t be troublesome, Adeptus Xiao,” Albedo said, “You’ll find I’m a rather low-maintenance traveler.”

“Travel,” Xiao scoffed, “without airstep?”

Albedo looked him up and down. “Are your legs just for decoration?”

(albedo is sent to liyue on mandatory vacation. xiao is his unfortunate bodyguard.)

Comment: Most of the time you will see Albedo and Xiao starting their relationship with one of them taking interest in another. But this one took another approach, they starting off by make them hating each other’s guts LMAOOOO and I live for every second of it. There’s only 1 chapter so far but wow it was SOOO GOOD. I am really really excited for next chapter and is waiting patiently ;w;

8. Blossom of Grace by birdpriestess

One day in Liyue Harbor, Albedo watches a street performance by an enigmatic dancer named Xiao. And he becomes completely obsessed.

Comment: Have you ever look at Xiao fight and thinking that he’s one of the most beautiful deadly thing ever? How it was like he was dancing around the battlefield? How about actual dancer Xiao being so absolutely beautiful and perfect and that slow burn of Albedo falling in love with that beauty with a touch of Modern AU and cute Ganyu as the Wing woman. Yes, Sparrow delivers yet again another beautiful slow burn and while it’s still ongoing it is worth the read.

9. i think we could make this work (could get used to this) by outspaced

“Xiao? What are you doing out here?”

“I—”

“It’s raining,” Albedo says, as if it isn’t obvious. “You could get struck by lightning.”

“What are you doing out here then?” Xiao does the only thing he knows how to do, he challenges Albedo. “It’s raining.”

Albedo just hums. “If I get struck by lightning, it’s for science.”

Comment: A short one-shot where I read the summary and went “This is it... this is their relationship.” I am sold immediately. Oh god Albedo why are you like this.

10. Ephemeral by criedprinz

“It’s not for your investigation, is it?” Aether asked mildly.

Albedo traced a finger around the sketchbook, considering the question. “No,” he admitted finally. “I... I just want to see them again.”

He opened the sketchbook to reveal the drawing he’d just finished. Aether nodded, clearly recognizing the sharp golden eyes.

“Xiao,” he said. “You were rescued by an adeptus.”

When a visit to Dragonspine goes horribly wrong, Albedo is rescued by an unknown stranger, wielding powers he's never heard of. Led on a search to find out who it is, he finds himself in the middle of an unforgettable encounter..

Comment: A really really well written one-shot that I love. The yearning oh godddd the yearning from Albedo side is just so so much that I have to put it here. (I think you can see the trend here lmao. I am a sucker for yearning). And the moment they get to meet each other again is just chef kiss. MWHAA

11. Idle Yaksha, Brilliant Yaksha by Pit0fTheEarth

Alatus didn’t have a lot of responsibilities to keep. He spent most of his days dancing across the sky and eating away all nightmares that plagued a person’s sleep.

But one fortunate encounter led to too many unfortunate ones, taking his carefree existence and plunging it in darkness. His wings, stripped from him. His gentle touch, replaced by an unforgiving grip of destruction.

There was a lot of blood on his hands. With each passing moment, it became harder for Alatus to recall the last time someone gently held him.

Comment: This is one of the ongoing fic where I am very very much excited on the take of Naberius. And the way the author portray Xiao when he’s still the innocent Alatus is just *clench fist*. Baby ;w; Baby why do you have to lose all that innocence. Also the fic has long LONG flashback to Xiao past and his relationship with Naberius. We are unwielding more what happened to both of them and why perhaps does this have to do with Albedo.

That’s it for now, might add more later! Thank you <3

#xiaobedo #tetsu likes to ramble #genshin impact

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savnofilter · 4 years

Text

Kinktober Day 2

b. katsuki

☠️ warning(s): 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕙 𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕤, bathroom sex, mirror sex, rough sex, squirting, established relationship.

☠️ genre: smut, holiday special.

☠️ words: 1.8k words [7 minutes, 10 seconds].

☠️ read more: kinktober(uary)

☠️ summary: after what felt like a long time (week) of you ignoring him over an argument, bakugo finally took the chance to fuck you in at the halloween party hosted by his friends.

To explain how you were clinging onto your boyfriend and moaning out as he rutted into you at a sharply, fast, pace. Your back was pressed up the bathroom’s mirror, his thrusts so forceful he was worried that you two were going to break the mirror. A whole day’s worth of teasing and irking Bakugo had paid him off, the done deal being the clothing that dressed your legs and lightly gave the thiccness of your thighs the squeeze he loved to see.

It was almost comical. The car ride was almost silent, his eyes and hands struggling to keep themselves as he endured your wordless sassy-ness towards. The fact that you two had broken out into an argument before you had left the house and it was now you guys were hoping to the new location of Mina’s party and you were looking absolutely spectacular.

Besides, Bakugo has to hold himself back.

All-day he had to watch you parade around in your revealing outfit, the rendition no other than his own hero suit. Your skirt was cute but short, the obvious tank top accentuated your body and chest, the small but appropriate gauntlets lifting the creativity of the outfit along with the decorative mask. He had to proudly admit, you looked downright sexy and there was no debating about it. The problem was that he couldn’t touch you, at least that’s what your silent treatment towards him said. Bakugo wasn’t one to overstep boundaries, rather hearing you beg and ask him for more was a better alternative anyway.

Bakugo let out a breath of relief once you guys finally rolled up to Kaminari’s house, his clenched hands around the steering wheel calming down as he’s finally able to get out the tense care. He didn’t notice he was holding in his breath this whole time, or the fact his fists were clenched so tight they had turned white. The sight made you grin to yourself, unbuckling yourself and dropping down the mirror to look at yourself in the skimpy costume. He gave you a side-eye, his eyes appreciating the unique stretch your chest gave the material of the tank top, no matter your size successfully filling it out. He practically hopped out his seat once his door was open, not wanting to be the one to succumb to the silent challenge you had started.

Over what?! He didn’t know himself. All he could see was how the outfit made you look more beautiful than he had anticipated, figuring after last week's argument on whether or not you could’ve left the house in that one bra top you had insisted completely flew out his head without further thought. All he could think about now was the burning desire to pin you up somewhere inappropriate and fuck you there, leaving you to clench your thighs together to keep his cum from dripping anywhere that was to the public eye.

His eyes followed you from the moment you left the car on your own accord, not sparing him a glance as you walked into the party’s threshold. It took everything in him to not follow you closely, trying to show you he had control -- or rather convince himself. Bakugo growled before rolling his eyes, knowing that at some point at the other you guys would cross paths anyways.

“You look so amazing, Y/N! I bet Bakugo is going to be all over you by the end of the night, I know I would~” Ashido teased you, quirking her brows to tease you and make you giggle.

“We’ll see how it goes...” You teased back, glancing towards your boyfriend with a more than secretive look only he could read. You knew he was going to watch you, the feeling and thought exciting you.

After a long night of him unabashedly gawking at you, he had managed to whisk you away into the bathroom~ and fuck you raw. He held no remorse immediately sealing a kiss over your mouth and pressing his plump needing lips. His rough hands went to grab your thighs, not giving you enough time to melt into the kiss as he moved them down, his fingers dipping into the bands of the socks you wore that mocked his costume.

“You think you’re so fucking cute? Wearing this shit and teasing me all night?” He growls against your skin, nipping at the spot and roughly sucking on it. Your lips quirked up into a mischievous smile, breathy moans coming from your lips.

“Mmm, is it me or my clothes, Katsuki~?” You sass back. You knew what you were getting yourself into, the added excitement of someone possibly walking in while Bakugo was getting ready to fuck your brains out.

“Shut up.” He curtly responds, pulling away so he could work at getting your clothes off. His hands coming up to fiddle with the fashionable that sat on your waist, shirking off your skirt once he got it done, moving to get your top and shoulder parts off as well, the gauntlets staying on. You weren’t going to let him be the only one to undress, pressing up against him and leaning up to kiss him again. You bit onto his bottom lip and sucked on it, humming in delight when he took the opportunity to let his tongue wander into your mouth. Soon enough when you guys were both decently undressed, walking back before you could hit the sink, his hands hoisting you up on it and spreading your legs far enough so he could fit in it.

Both of your tongues battled for dominance, the two muscles seemingly not backing down from the same grudge that was held before. Bakugo had taken the time when he realized you were distracted to quickly align himself with your opening and thrusting into your dripping sex. He couldn’t help but smirk at how slick your hot core was, your stuck-up attitude being nothing but an act. Your tongue relaxed enough to be taken for him and dart his tongue to the back of your throat to poke at the sensitive walls. You choked at the feeling, your eyes blowing wide and nails digging into his bare shoulders to beg for mercy.

“Mmf--!” You tried pushing him back, him only doing so when he started to run out of air. You glared heavily at him as you both held the same look, a string of saliva connecting your panting mouths with wordless tension between you two. The string snapped when your head tilted back against the mirror, whimpering at the dull pain it caused you and only earning you a mocking chuckle from him. He lifted your thighs to your body, leaning up to watch your thicc thighs press against your folded body.

His hands were precisely placed to wear your thighs stopped at the middle of your thighs, his hands gripping the area tightly, his eyes admiring your body and all its glory. He hadn’t realized-a lie-about how much he missed seeing your body. You had taken up since that day a week ago you had silently declared that he would have to earn seeing you again although you guys lived in the same apartment.

Both of your brain cells left the room, the blue balls he had suffered were finally taking its advantage on you and you could never skip a good quickie with your boyfriend no matter the occasion. It was almost silent in the room minus the sound of his skin roughly slapping against yours and the shameless moans that left your mouth, his grunts accompanying your noises here and there. No fun banter added.

He made the dramatic motion of him pulling out randomly to confuse you, carefully dropping your thighs and dropping them down. Bakugo turns you around to bend you over and face the mirror, your brows rising and your breath hitching at the more than disheveled look of only about 15 minutes passing of you two being in that bathroom alone. He lifted one of your thighs and rested it on the sink again and thrust into you again. Your jaw dropped at the feeling, his cock hitting your g-spot at the angle he knew drove you crazy. Your eyes rolled back as he continued, his hands coming up and tugging your head back at an awkward angle to keep you watching yourself get fucked by him while also deeming his control over you at that moment.

Watching as your tits bounced with each motion, your bra failing to keep in place and had eventually let your breasts spill from his brute force. You shivered trying to hold onto the bars sink trying to brace yourself against his thrusts. He focused on so many things, leaving your cunt throbbing in wanton need as he exposed you and forced you to endure all the teasing you gave to him tenfold. Your words almost broken, not taking a super bright person to understand what you were trying to moan out.

“Are you going to fucking cum, babe?” He asks, tilting his head and talking in your ear, his warm breath teasing your skin and making you cringe. You nodded your head to the best of your ability, eyes watching his dark and lustful gaze, gladly taking his sadistic look without complaint. “Cum.”

Your body was rocked into oblivion. It took you some guidance, your hand coming down to rub your clit and making you cum in anticipation. Your moans were shaken as you finished, the push of your bladder giving you the push to squirt against your familiar fingers, your cum being able to coat the glass, and the rest in front of you with your liquid. The tight squeeze of your cunt provided a pussy-pocket like a squeeze, holding in his final grunt to pull out and cum on your bum, moving his hips to jerk some onto your thigh and some drips onto your socks. You grunt rolling your neck when his hand leaves its grip in your hair.

You breathed out once you were finished, the release of adrenaline catching up with you. He leaned against you while being able to keep himself up, nuzzling your neck and pressing his cock against you. You turn your head to look at his mess on your body, frowning as you attempt to wipe some of the jizz that stained your sock to no avail and pouting as it dawns upon you at the mess you two had made. “Aw… look at what you did Katsuki-”

“I wasn’t the only one in here!” He snaps back, narrowing his eyes at you and rolling his eyes at your annoying pout. He rests your thigh down and kisses your shoulder, his hands rubbing your hips and grinding his hard-on that somehow still packing an erection with the load he just blew. He laughed humorlessly as he looked at your astounded expression, his arms wrapping around your waist as he slowly sinks cock back into your cunt, enjoying the way your face twists in pleasure. He holds you in place as he kisses his way up your ear, his hips slowly rocking into you before taunting you in your ear.

“I’m not finished with you yet.”

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taramikealson · 3 years

Text

Just a sort of canon-ish Drabble that I got a little carried away with.

Set after the events in TVD excluding the “Hell” storyline in Season 8, the miracle babies, Caroline dating Alaric, Marcel taking the serum, and a few minor changes that are hopefully recognizable.

He could feel the irritation crawl along his skin like a serpent slithering itself up and around a tree. With the irritation, came anger.

Sometimes he enjoyed the challenge that came with others riffling with his plans. He has theories as to why he does but deep down he knows the true reason. His wolf. The thrill and excitement that came with the thought of the hunt. Predators such as wolves are born hunters who thrive on such games.

But, he is not only a wolf. No, he is a strategist- a remarkable one at that. There had been no plan, no despicable machination of his that hasn’t had a fail-safe.

Except for this one.

He had gotten himself into a situation where he finally became comfortable again after nearly ten centuries of running. And when he got comfortable, he began to lose his edge.

After successfully re-stabilizing the Quarter and allowing his brother to take a leading role in the peace treaty between the factions, New Orleans fell quiet. Of course, every so often there’d be a dispute between a couple of the factions that rose a concern within his elder brother, but that was always unavoidable. Werewolves, witches, and vampires alike have fought for centuries, that type of violence and warfare doesn’t automatically stop with a peace treaty. His brother may hope for that positive outcome but Klaus had always been a realist. And, unfortunately as he predicted, the peace was temporary.

“Niklaus, this is not a situation that we should ignore.” His brother’s voice sounded through the phone that he had pressed against his right ear.

No, this isn’t something we should ignore. He thinks, tentatively keeping his lips pressed together to keep himself from speaking of something that perhaps his brother shouldn’t know.

“Should Marcel make a regretful move, this treaty we’ve formed could very well be null and void.”

If Marcel were to make a move, it may start a gruesome war between the vampires and werewolves. If Klaus knew Marcel well enough, his former right-hand man is most likely planning something rather ill-conceived. He hasn’t theorized whether the harsh consequences will weigh the heaviest on either the vampires or werewolves, or even the whole Quarter all together. No matter what they may be, he’s most certain his brother won’t be quite pleased with what he has planned.

Although Klaus once held a tight hold over the vampires, it came to his attention that Marcel continued to be respected amongst both the day and nightwalker community. Thus, why in the time of tension, they clamber to him in search of a leader to choose the decisions that will benefit them. Which is why Klaus has chosen to keep the werewolves as an ally. The werewolves have proven to be loyal to Hayley and his daughter because they both are seen as part of the pack, which unnerves Klaus but gives him the relief that those wolves will protect his daughter. The connection that Hayley holds with those werewolves is bound to be manipulated, might as well be him to do so in a beneficial way. For both the stability of New Orleans and the safety of his daughter.

“Brother, do you understand me?”

His shoes crunch against the small layer of gravel underneath his feet.

“Yes.” Klaus tries his best to keep the irritation out of his voice but his answer still sounds short.

The hybrid immediately ends the call, noting that the conversion was to be continued in person. While pocketing his phone, he takes a few steps further along the rooftop and then steps up onto the ledge, giving him a grand view of the Quarter from a few buildings away.

A rough shuffle and a few voices could be heard from a little farther down the alley below him, but he didn’t much care about the happenings within the alley. From what he could hear, there were two men speaking in hushed tones, their heartbeats slower and more quiet indicating their undead nature. The fast and erratic heartbeat that was a few paces in front of them was a clear indication to Klaus of what the vampires below were planning to do.

His lips turned up slightly. He, himself, was feeling a bit peckish, perhaps he’ll grab a quick bite before he returns home to his disapproving older brother.

The vampires eventually closed the woman in, murmuring to her about where she was going and why she was out at such a time. He found it interesting that she stayed quiet. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the women would say something whether it be a plea to let them go or an angry curse.

Wanting to stay out of the house- more like away from his brother- for as long as he can, he turned his head to look down the alleyway. If this ends to be unentertaining, he’ll most likely grab a drink at Rousseau’s.

There, he could see both the vampires crowd into the blonde woman’s space. She has her back pushed up against the rough brick.

“I don’t think it’s very safe for a lady like yourself to be out here.” The vampire states before his eyes transform and fangs replace his blunt teeth. Usually, this is when the victims begin to scream or mutter that modern saying, oh my, God. But the woman doesn’t seem as scared as a normal human would be.

“You’re making a mistake.” She murmurs and Klaus’ eyes widen a hair, recognizing the voice. But before he can think of anything else, the woman is thrusting a wooden stake into the vampire’s stomach.

The vampire doubles over and the other vampire goes to attack the human but he’s no match for Klaus’ speed. Without a second thought, Klaus appears before the vampire, shoving him back before he could get to the woman. The other vampire has now pulled the stake from his torso and was looking to kill but Klaus turned toward him.

“Enough.”

The vampire pauses but scowls at him, a look of disgust and anger apparent in his eyes. His hand rises and points to the human. “She stabbed me! She’s a tourist! Tourists are fair game-,”

“And you would be in the right if it weren’t for her being under my protection.”

The vampire looks a little surprised at Klaus’ declaration and is about to protest once more but Klaus beats him to it.

“Now, I suggest you scamper off to Marcel before I’m tempted to rid you both of your hands.”

Both vampires share a glance and Klaus continues to stand his ground confidently. Eventually, the vampires figure out that it’s probably best for them to avoid any conflict with an Original, the Original Hybrid no less. Thus, they both give the human one last threatening look before flashing away into the night.

With the vampires disappearance, Klaus had began to turn around and quip something sarcastic but his whole expression changes when Caroline’s knees give out. His hands come out at vampiric speed as he catches her by her upper arms and kneels down as he slowly lowers with her.

It’s then that he sees her clearly. Her hair isn’t as perfect as she normally used to keep it, almost like she hasn’t had access to the proper equipment. Her clothes were a little wrinkled and two small dark red dots bled through her white shirt indicating that a bandaged wound was leaking. Concern now flooded through him as his eyes connected with her face. It was as beautiful as ever but there was a deep exhaustion and a line of stress etched into her forehead. Oh how his heart now aches. He thinks that he hasn’t felt as worried for someone as he is with Hope, but yet here he is, holding her just enough so she doesn’t slump over.

He now realizes that she hadn’t just lost most of her strength, but had been keeping herself from showing any weakness towards those vampires. If he wasn’t so concerned with her health, he’d be praising her for her stubborn strength.

“Caroline, look at me, love.” He aides her by tilting her head up gently by her chin. Her eyes are tired and look so vulnerable.

She looks as if she’s about to say something but Klaus shakes his head. “Conserve your strength. You’re alright, I’ve got you.” If those words were spoken to anyone else, they’d have a right mind to be worried but she seemed to feel relieved. He takes that as permission to pick her up, holding her from underneath her legs and shoulders.

His thoughts of what his brother will think of him are completely wiped away when he races to his home. It’s quiet but he knows his brother is lurking somewhere. He’s not quite concerned about Freya, Rebekah, and Hayley’s absences. Ever since the incident between the werewolves and vampires, Hayley has taken it upon herself to help with the remaining pack. Freya is most likely working on another miracle to save this city’s peace and it’s no surprise that Rebekah is with Marcel.

Klaus contemplates taking Caroline to a guest bedroom but the closest one to his is farther than he’d like so he figures that taking her to his bedroom won’t be the worst idea. At least he’d be able to keep a close eye on her for the time being.

He sets her down gently to the dark grey covers and takes a sharp turn into the bathroom. Klaus comes back out a few moments later with a wet washcloth and a couple different sizes of bandages. Caroline shifts a little and grazes her hand against the side of her torso where the wound was which seems to instantly sober her up. She lets out a small gasp and grimaces in pain. Her hand hovers over it as if it’d take the pain away. Klaus walks back over to her and sits on the edge of the bed, a few inches separating himself from her.

Extending his hand, his eyes travel up to her face seeking silently for any sign of rejection before pulling the edge of her shirt up to reveal a blood-soaked bandage. His hands slowly peel away the bandage and Klaus didn’t know what to expect but he hadn’t expect something quite as brutal as this. No, this was not a wound from an accident, this was intentional and by someone who was trying to harm Caroline. In fact, he was quite knowledgeable about this particular wound, or had been when he was human. By the sharp angles of the shape of the wound, he could tell it had been an arrow tip that pierced her skin. When he was human, Kol had been recklessly playing with his father’s bow and accidentally shot Finn in the shoulder. He had kept that arrow shaped scar for as long as he could remember. But just because Finn had survived, it only made Klaus more concerned.

By the tear of the wound, it seems to have been reopened due to stress. Although, he imagines that it’s good news that it’s not infected. Klaus is as gentle as he possibly can be when he pays the wet washcloth along her wound. She bites her lip hard and grasps his arm in a painful grip but he allows her to do so, hoping that if a fraction of his pain can dull hers, then so be it.

After a few moments, she slowly takes her hand away and he begins to clean around the wound.

“Klaus-,”

“Don’t.” He begins, “not now.”

His words come out a tad harsher than intended but she knows he’s just concerned and doesn’t know how to healthily deal with it like a normal human.

“I need you to listen just for once.”

“Caroline, let yourself rest before we speak of anything.”

She appreciated the notion that he valued her safety and well-being more than an explanation of why she showed up in his city as a human. But this couldn’t wait, for her safety and his own.

To truly get his attention, she places her hand on top of the one that was still cleaning the blood off her skin. It pauses its movements and he looks up to her.

“I- I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to use you for your contacts but I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” She hesitates to continue because after she asks, his involvement becomes concrete. Because she knows that he’ll help her. “I need a witch, someone powerful. Someone who can do a cloaking spell that can’t be broken by another witch.”

His face doesn’t express as much emotion as she thought it would but she doesn’t think that it’s a bad thing. He obviously seems to be contemplating something as his eyes bore into hers.

Setting aside the washcloth, he straightens out and takes a sleek black phone out of his jacket pocket. Without hesitation, he clicks a few times on the screen and places the phone against his ear.

“Freya, I need you at the Compound immediately.” With that, he puts his phone away and reaches for a bandage. Taking the plastic off, he softly places it over her wound, pressing along the outside, securing it to her skin without causing her pain.

His eyes refocus onto hers and she spots the anger that has now manifested within those blue orbs. “Who did this?” He asks and Caroline Knew she should have known better than to think the wound wouldn’t show any foul play.

“Silas.” Klaus’ lips part in confusion. For all he knows, Silas had been put in a safe and thrown down the quarry. God, things got complicated since he’d left. Much more complicated than she would have liked.

“For a while he pretended to be Stefan. We didn’t know because we thought he could only mess with a couple people’s perspectives but turns out he’s a doppelgänger.” She mentally cringes when remembering how Silas continuously terrorized her and her friends. She also remembers how Silas had made everyone think he was dead when Stefan killed him but had used it as an out to chalk up another plan that revolved solely around revenge. Against her.

Caroline begins to pull herself up into a sitting position so she’s resting against the headboard and is thankful when Klaus helps her. “Before you came back, we thought Stefan killed Silas but he’d used some last resort spell and it gave him the perfect out to recollect himself.”

“I guess he waited for a few years for things to settle down and for us to be off our guard.Damon was as happy as he could be considering Elena, Bonnie was back, and Stefan and I were getting back on good terms. Silas approached me on the last day of my Senior year.” Klaus notices as she bites her lip and looks down at her hands that have begun to twiddle in slight nervousness. “Silas made me think we were making some kind of deal. I leave my friends behind and never go back to Mystic Falls, or he kills me and everyone I care about. I chose to leave.”

Swallowing, her eyes darted from her hands to Klaus’ face to gauge what he might have been thinking but he wasn’t showing any sign other than that he was just listening to her, allowing her to pour whatever worries she had onto him.

“I don’t know if he thought that I would just settle down in some other place to get the opportunity to know my whereabouts while he tried to kill my friends but he called negotiations off when I skipped the third town I went to. So, he went after me.” When the single tear fell from her eye, she was a little surprised at how vulnerable she was allowing herself to be. “I told everyone that I was taking off for a little bit to go travel since I had finished college. I didn’t want them to try to find me and end up as one of Silas’ next victims.”

She pauses and wipes the stray tear away, trying to recollect herself. She must look like hell, crying would only make it worse. Caroline needed to man-up. There was no doubt that what Klaus had gone through with his father, or step-father, was worse.

Klaus leans forward and takes her hand into his, letting him drop a feather-light kiss along her knuckles. “You are safe. If I ever promise you anything, I will certainly promise you that.”

Caroline can’t help the small smile that forms on her face, knowing that he is being truly genuine. His lips turn up as well.

A small knock on the door interrupts them and Klaus rises from the bed. A taller dirty blonde woman stands in the doorway, analyzing both of them. Klaus crosses the room and pulls the woman further into the hallway, speaking to her in a hushed tone.

After a moment of back and forth conversation, they both advance into the room. Klaus pauses for a minute, watching as the woman approaches the side of the bed. She offers Caroline a reassuring smile that tells her she’s most likely a friend of Klaus’ or at least someone in his good graces.

“Caroline, right? I’m the older and wiser Mikealson sibling, Freya.” Caroline blinks for a moment and looks to Klaus in confusion. Although, she assumes what the woman, Freya, is saying must be somewhat true because all Klaus does is slightly roll his eyes in such a brotherly manner before turning towards the liquor tray.

“Niklaus tells me you need a little bit of a complex cloaking spell.” Caroline nods. Being that Freya must be a Mikealson, it is always safe to walk on eggshells around the ones she’s not very familiar with, no doubt the ones that she never knew about.

Freya turns towards the hybrid who was sipping his drink. “Will you fetch my grimoire and my herb bowl from the study, brother?” Klaus doesn’t seem all too eager to be ordered around but he does as asked and walks out of the room. Freya turns back towards Caroline and motions to the space when Klaus had sat before.

“May I?”

Caroline gives her a short nod and Freya smiles.

“Why are you being so nice to me? I thought all Mikealsons were kinda bordering on the ‘I don’t help anyone but my family’ ideology.” Caroline was going to be more subtle about it but she’s injured and doesn’t feel well, might as well rip off the band-aid.

Funnily enough, Freya laughs. “I’d agree with you but I’m quite aware of who you are.”

Now, that was surprising. Did Klaus say anything about her to his siblings? It didn’t seem like something he’d do. Her mouth opened to say something but she couldn’t find her words. It seems like Freya had an idea of what she was thinking and thought to correct her.

“I saw you when I entered my brother’s mind. If it weren’t under life and death circumstances I wouldn’t have done so. Trust me, I’ve already heard a mouthful from Niklaus.”

That made Caroline even a bit more nervous. Did this woman know everything about her and Klaus then? Had she watched some of their interactions? “How much do you know?” She asks.

“Just enough to know how important you are to my brother.”

That’s not cryptic at all. Caroline isn’t sure if that means Freya knows a little too much than she should or not but she imagines that she can’t push the woman any further than she’s willing so she shuts her mouth. And she also really doubts that Klaus is out of earshot, he can probably hear almost anything from the other side of the house so it’s best not to speak out of turn. Or maybe just not too much about him.

Speak of the devil, because he then walks through the door not even a few moments afterwards, carrying a grimoire and a small bowl with a few items in it that looked close to medical supplies.

He comes up behind his sister and sets her grimoire down on the bed and intentionally hands her the bowl, making her notice the extra supplies within. A sterile needle with surgical string and a couple other medical supplies. As he hands the bowl over to her, he murmurs, “perhaps you should also take a look at her wound, sister.”

By the look in his eye, she could tell he was a bit more concerned about the girl’s physical wound than the cloaking spell being down. Then again, both siblings knew that with all of the magic surrounding the Compound, it would take a highly skilled witch at least a couple hours to work through a location spell for anyone who was there.

Freya nods and takes the bowl from him. Klaus steps back and takes a seat directly across the room from the bed in one of the leather chairs, still allowing Caroline to see him.

The witch silently asks for permission to have a closer look at Caroline’s wound before pulling the new bandage away. Caroline watches Freya’s eyebrows furrow as she inspects the wound. Freya’s eyes look back up to her.

“Have you had this looked at before?”

Caroline shakes her head lightly. “But I tried to keep it closed.” Her lips turn up into a ghost of a smile. “You only learn so much in high school and college level health classes.” Freya understands the lightheartedness within the statement and offers her a smile.

“Well, it seems like you at least kept it clean.” Freya begins. “But I’ll need to stitch it up a little and possibly do a proper cleaning just in case. It’ll probably be easy to put you to sleep for that.”

Caroline’s eyebrows furrow at the lack of a surgical syringe. “Like a witchy anesthesia?”

Freya seems to enjoy her lack of magical knowledge and find amusement in it. “Something along those lines.”

“You’ve done it before, right?”

The witch lets out a small laugh. “Yes, but I can certainly do a demonstration.” Her head turns over her shoulder towards her younger brother but Klaus seems unimpressed.

It was a little reassuring seeing him naturally take up his brotherly role. She hadn’t ever really seen that side of him and never saw him actually interact with his siblings before. It was nice to know that even the Original Hybrid could act like a typical brother once in a great while.

“I promise it’s safe and when you wake, your wound will be patched right up.” Freya reassures and Caroline nods. She knows that Klaus will go just about as far as he possibly can to keep her safe which tells her that Freya is trustworthy. So, she doesn’t think about it too long before she murmurs, “okay.”

———————————————-

Upon breaking the fog of sleep, she doesn’t feel as weak as she had before Freya had put her to sleep which was a good sign. She begins to lift her head off the pillow and suddenly feels a warm hand help her sit up.

Looking over, she sees Klaus hovering beside her. “Easy, love. No need to tear your new sutures.”

His words remind her and she looks down, pulling her shirt up and the bandage aside to see her wound stitched up neatly with a strange light paste spread on top.

“My sister assured me that her little remedy,” he nods towards the paste on her wound, “should have healed you just enough to allow you to shower, if you wish to do so.”

The thought of a steaming hot shower is so appealing to her right now. “God, yes.” She sighs. It’s been so long since she’d been in any type of shower that wasn’t in a hotel or had some sort of modern day technology.

It seems Klaus enjoys her enthusiasm and takes it as a good sign for her health. “Would you like me to fetch my sister to help you?”

Caroline shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I’m okay.” She silently thinks that should anything happen, he’ll most likely be listening in on her. It was a little creepy to think about but also made her feel a tad safer knowing that he’d always make sure she was safe.

He respects her choice and helps her stand. Waiting a moment to make sure she gets her bearings, he keeps a hand on the small of her back and leads her towards the entrance of the bathroom. She silently thanks him before he closes the door to a crack after her.

Looking around the bathroom, she’s not surprised about how lavish it is and how neat it’s kept. She never really took Klaus as the person who kept his personal space in disarray. As clean as it was, it still held the feeling of being used daily. One of the medicine cabinets was left cracked open a little, a small tin and classic shaving knife was left on top of a white cloth, and a bottle of cologne sat on the counter. If Caroline had possibly thought of a bathroom Klaus would ever call his, this is probably as close to it as she’d get.

Caroline decides that if she takes too long, Klaus may think something is wrong so she strips quickly and turns the water on. She’s pleased when it takes a whole couple seconds for the water to warm. Stepping into the shower, she sighs at how good it feels. The water runs down her, rinsing away all of the dirt and grime from the past couple days.

After getting her hair wet, she reads the minimalist labels on the three bottles that sat on the shower shelf. Thank God they weren’t the typical soaps that guys used nowadays. She shivers at the thought of two-in-one products. These were just simply packaged products that were obviously a little more on the manlier side of things but it’ll have to do.

Rubbing the shampoo and conditioner in her curls, she almost felt a weight lift off of her. Once she finished up basking in the warmth of the shower, she turned the dial off and stepped out. Grabbing the white towel, she wraps it around herself and tries to dry up as much as she can.

Upon walking back over to the bathroom counter she notices that she can’t exactly wear her old clothes but she does choose to wear her bra and underwear again. Hopefully she can ask Klaus to rile her up something for her to wear.

When she exits the bathroom, she immediately notices that the French doors that had led to the balcony outside were now closed with the drapes shut and the sliding door to the bedroom was almost shut all the way. She could hear a little movement in the next room over and assumed it was Klaus.

Stepping further into the bedroom, she sees that she doesn’t even need to ask Klaus for clothes because there’s a pair of yoga pants and t-shirt folded neatly on the bed. It was also accompanied with a hairbrush. Her heart warms at the thoughtfulness but then again, Klaus had always put thought behind a lot of things that involved her.

She’s quick to take the precious privacy that he allowed her and got dressed.

He finally emerged when she was finishing up brushing her hair. He held a plate of food and a glass of water. Caroline places the hairbrush down and into the drawer of the nightstand before scooting herself further back on the bed to give him enough space. Klaus sits down on the edge of the bed and places the glass of water on the nightstand, then handing Caroline the plate. At the sight of the scrambled eggs, bacon, and assortment of fruit on the plate, she was almost worried her stomach would growl. She doesn’t even remember when she last had a proper meal.

“Thank you.” She murmurs when he hands her a clean fork.

His smile is genuine and tells her that he doesn’t find helping her to be a chore. When he watches her carefully as she began to eat, she knew that if he’d done so a few years back she’d find it extremely creepy, but now she’s come to find out that it’s his way of communicating his reassurance. He’s silently telling her that he’s here, he’s going to protect her.

“I’ll leave you to eat. Perhaps get a few more hours of sleep, it’s only a quarter after six.” He states as he rises from the bed. His eyes drift for a moment down to her torso where her wound is covered by her shirt. Something in his eyes changes and he leans down close to her head. She pauses as his lips softly connect with her forehead. He pulls back a little and looks deep into her eyes.

“So long as I have a say in the matter, Silas will never get close enough to touch you again.” He then rises to his full length and exits the room.

——————————————

After eating and getting a couple more hours of sleep she’d ventured out of Klaus bedroom to find him again. When she did he was insistent about getting her at least a week’s worth of clothing for herself. She didn’t make a second objection, knowing that either way Klaus will get her clothing, it was just a matter of if she’d pick it out or have some compelled vampire do it. Thus he’d taken her to a few local shops. In typical guy fashion, Klaus hadn’t been too animated about watching her pick clothing out. In most of the stores, they’d parted ways- her towards anything that caught her eye and him to any empty seat he could find.

Caroline tried to be as time efficient as possible knowing that even a man who has waited a thousand years to break his curse, he still had his limits of patience. As much as she thought he dreaded chaperoning her, because he refused to have a possibility of another vampire thinking they could harm her, he still offered her considerate smiles. There were a few instances where she could feel the heat of his gaze as she walked out of the dressing room. She didn’t know what to make of it and brushed it aside.

This is hopefully the first and last time Caroline thinks this, but she is thankful that Klaus has the ability to compel vampires. He had a vampire, she forgot her name, retrieved Caroline’s brand new clothes and took them to the Compound so they could continue to stroll down a few of the streets.

If Caroline hadn’t spent the last couple years skipping from city to city, she thinks she may have been a little more amazed at the New Orleans architecture. But still, it was truly stunning. She liked that Klaus didn’t directly guide her but just allowed her to wander. Soon, they’d found themselves in a bar. The bartender that approached them seemed very familiar with Klaus and when he’d introduced her to Camille, the woman was welcoming.

It didn’t escape her notice how Camille had laid eyes on Klaus for a few seconds too long before walking off to let her and Klaus enjoy their drinks.

Caroline smiles a little at the situation. “You know, she likes you.”

His lips turn up and he sips his whiskey.

“You may not be aware of this, Caroline, but you are on the exceedingly short list of women who have rejected me.” His head turns towards her with a smug smirk. “You should feel lucky, most of those women are dead.”

Caroline rolls her eyes lightheartedly. “So lucky.” She breathes and looks away from him. His chuckle is rich and deep, making her crack a small smile.

“Quite a number of women find me charming, you surely had at one time.”

The statement brings out an instinct in her to say something snarky or quip something a little harsh but she chooses not to. Instead, her teeth catch her bottom lip as she lowers her gaze to the vodka soda. She doesn’t exactly know what to do. All she’s ever done with him was constantly impolitely reject him with statements about who he killed or what bad things he’s done.

Her eyes go up to see the bartender come out from the kitchen in the back. The girl gives them a small glance and Caroline offers her a friendly smile. Camille seems a little surprised by Caroline’s friendliness, almost as if she was expected to be ignored or brushed off. Caroline has no doubt that the crowd that Klaus would spend time with would be most certainly supernatural, thus their lack of interest in simple human servers. Although, Klaus seemed a little keen of her. Truthfully, she didn’t know what to think about it. If it was a few years ago, she would have rather drowned before admitting that she was a tad jealous when it came to Klaus, but she was older and more mature. So, yeah. Maybe she felt a little jealous that the girl’s feelings towards Klaus could be mutual. But she also wasn’t going to be spiteful of it.

Stirring the small straw that floated in her untouched drink, she murmurs, “If you want to go talk to her, there’s nothing stopping you.” Her voice is as neutral as she can make it.

Even now without her vampire senses, she could still feel his fiery gaze in the side of her head. He lets out a low chuckle.

“Camille is a close friend of my family. She’s sacrificed quite a bit to aid my family’s survival and I’ve repaid her loyalty with protection.” He begins. “Our relationship may have developed into somewhat of a complicated friendship since she’s known me, but that is simply it.”

Caroline turns her head towards him and his eyes are as clear blue as ever. “But by no means do I wish to be in anyone else’s company other than yours.”

There’s a brief moment between them where both of their solid barriers were dissolved and their eyes just simply met. They said nothing but their eyes communicated plenty. But, that moment was only brief.

The bell over the door to the bar chimes when it opens, the noise from the street could be heard for a moment before the door closes again. Both Klaus and Caroline are shaken out of their moment when a voice chimes.

“Now, this is interesting.”

Caroline is a little taken aback even though she should have expected to come across another Original. Hell, she wouldn’t doubt that the whole Mikealson clan was crawling around New Orleans at this point. It seemed to be almost like a hub for them.

Klaus is the first to turn in his seat and greet his sister. “Sister, a bit of a surprise to see you on this side of the river. Has Marcel finally bored you enough?” His tone has dramatically changed from the genuine one before to something more smartass-y.

When Caroline scoots on her stool a little to look more properly at the female Original, she notices how annoyed Rebekah gets because of Klaus’ comment.

“No, I came to visit my niece. Whom, in which, has noticed your lack of presence.” Rebekah then gives Caroline a disapproving glare. “But I think I know why.”

Klaus sighs quietly and Rebekah is about to say something but pauses. Her eyes scan Caroline carefully. After a moment, her eyes widen and she flashes towards Caroline, aggressively yelling, “who the bloody hell gave you the cure!?”

Caroline stumbles out of her stool as fast as she can and takes a few steps back. Rebekah is about to get into her face again but Klaus zips in front of her, blocking her way to Caroline.

“I-,” Caroline doesn’t know what to say or how to even start to calm down the Original. She’s not as strong as she once was. One little neck snap and she’ll be done.

“Rebekah.” Klaus growls in warning, earning a glare from his sister before her gaze goes back to the blonde.

“Why do you get the choice? You, of all people?”

Caroline is beyond grateful that no one else was in the bar because she’s sure that there could have been a bloodbath if there were.

Klaus is about to say something but Rebekah beats him to it.

“How is it that you get to have a normal life?”

Those words seemed to trigger something in Caroline. Something emotional.

“You think I want this? Do you think I chose to have a normal life where I’d meet some regular guy, marry him, have a few kids, and work for the rest of my life?” Rebekah frowns and Klaus turns his head just enough to look at her. “I didn’t. I don’t want that life and I didn’t choose to become human again. So, blame me all you want for being a bitch to you or whatever, but don’t blame me because you didn’t get the human life you’ve always wanted.”

It seems like Caroline’s words have an effect on Rebekah because she shrugs her brother’s hand away from her and takes a step back. Caroline can’t exactly know for sure but she thinks that maybe Rebekah can somewhat relate to her. Rebekah had always wanted to be human but was stuck as a vampire. Now, Caroline wants to be a vampire but is stuck as a human.

When Rebekah takes that step back and Klaus is sure she’s not going to try to attack Caroline again, he fully turns his body towards the blonde human. She can’t gauge exactly what he’s thinking but it could have been a cross between surprise and sympathy.

The younger Original looks almost a little guilty when she casts a glance towards Caroline but instead doesn’t say anything before flashing away. As the light breeze wafts over them from Rebekah’s exit, Klaus takes a step forward towards her.

“Caroline.”

She shakes her head. “I-,” her eyes shut for a moment. “Please don’t make me talk about it.”

She fully expects Klaus to struggle with her request but he quickly proves her wrong and gives her a short nod in understanding.

————————

Caroline’s fingers drum silently against the cold metal of the railing she’s stood behind. The city has now been cascaded in darkness but people still mull about on the street beneath her. The very idea of the liveliness of this city brings a smile to her face. The neon lights of shops and street lamps were now lit up to shine down on the passerbyers below, their drunken ramblings slightly muffled due to her human hearing.

She finds that Klaus was right. There was something about this city that not only attracted the party-seeking humans, but also the darker creatures who lurked in the shadows. She may not be a vampire any longer but that doesn’t mean the connection she holds with the darkness was shaken. There is not just history in this city, it is the home of the supernatural. Caroline bets that if she were still a vampire, she could have spotted a couple dozen supernaturals that had walked by in the past thirty minutes she's been up on Klaus’ balcony.

She only hopes it doesn’t attract a different kind of supernatural.

Out of the corner of her eye, she can sense movement just as a figure joins her. Their hand grasps the railing casually and when they sigh, a white cloud escapes their lips from the continuing dropping temperature of the night. He doesn’t attempt to make a move to slide closer to her and she appreciates the space he’s giving her, along with the time of silence.

As they stood in silence, listening to the noises of the city before them, she could recall how nervous she used to get during long periods of silence. She had always tried to fill them up with mindless chatter or something to that nature. But now? She finds that she sort of enjoys it. His presence may be a little nerve-wracking at times of tension but, as of late, Caroline seems to feel at ease knowing he’s just right there- not totally offering her comfort but the reassurance of his presence.

“You’re cold.” His voice murmurs smoothly through the air. It’s only then that she notices the goosebumps that trek along her arms. The light breeze flows around them once more, reminding Caroline that she doesn’t have as much tolerance to the weather as she once had when she was a vampire.

Her eyes lifted towards him to watch as he slid the casual high-collared blazer off just to then gently place it over her shoulders. Caroline’s arms cross and grasp the sides of the coat, pulling it closer to her body before offering him a smile in thanks. Although his eyes seemed to be light, there was a hint of concern to be seen.

“Caroline, what aren’t you telling me?”

The words surprise her, not because he’s asking them, but because he’s asking them now. She should have felt lucky that he hadn’t asked her earlier or even within the first ten minutes she was in New Orleans.

A lot. She thinks.

When she doesn’t speak, he sighs and shifts closer to her.

“You should be aware that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, but I can’t very well do it if I don’t know any of the details.” He pauses for a moment before continuing. “I understand that these past few years haven’t been as undemanding as you’ve hoped, but you need to tell me something- anything- so that I can help you.”

Caroline contemplates just shrugging it off and telling him there’s nothing to talk about but that would be a lie. A big lie. She came to him for help, slept in his bed, and ate his food. It would have been foolish of her to think that she could take full advantage of his protection and not have to give him a detailed explanation. But, she doesn’t know exactly how to start and how to proceed. There are specifics that he doesn’t want him to know about, but if she were to leave them out, she’s sure that he is intelligent enough to put a few pieces together, or at least tell that she’s leaving a few key details out. She had two options. Either she tells the truth or she omits, telling him that she doesn’t have the courage to give him an explanation. The last option would be the easier route, but one that would most likely drive a wedge between them, thus possibly compromising their safety.

If she were younger, she would have grappled for a third option. But she was older and more mature now. Even though the prospect of what Klaus may think of her afterwards held a sizable weight over her head, she knew that she couldn’t avoid telling Klaus the truth.

“Silas isn’t just chasing me because I helped in the plan to kill him.” She breathes.

Klaus’ eyes blink in surprise, as if he’s shocked that she’s actually opening up to him. But he allows her to continue.

“When you came back to Mystic Falls, I didn’t tell you the whole truth about what happened with Silas. When Stefan lured Silas outside, I was left alone on the far side of the boarding house. Someone had grabbed me and I acted on instinct because I knew Damon, Elena, and Qetsiyah were in the parlor, so I assumed it was Silas.” Caroline looks away from the Original and out towards the night sky. “It turned out to be Amara.” Her eyes slowly drifted back over to him to gauge his reaction. He stood still, eyes just taking her in and processing the information that she was offering him.

“Silas’ one true love.” Her eyes hold guilt and a sadness within them as she remembers the events that occurred nearly five years ago. “She was innocent and I killed her.”

A stray tear begins to form in her eye and bubbles over, making a thin wet trail down her cheek. Klaus’ hand doesn’t move as fast as it normally does when he gently wipes the tear from her face, making sure not to make any moves that she wouldn’t be able to reject. The heat of his palm against her jaw and the pressure it holds gives her an odd sense of comfort that she wouldn’t have expected.

“I don’t know how he found out after he faked his death, but he-,” she begins to struggle to speak, the emotions beginning to take advantage of her. “He approached me in my dorm one day and I’m not sure if he planned it or not, but Tyler happened to walk in.”

Caroline lets out a small exhale to try to keep her emotions slightly underwraps but she can’t help the couple tears that escape her eyes. Turning her head away, she feels a shade of guilt run through her. “He- he killed Tyler right in front of me.” She also tried to explain how after Silas left her with his ultimatum, she had to find a place to bury Tyler and come up with a story for his absence, but she thinks she would have totally broken down if she spoke another word. It didn’t take much longer than a couple seconds before his arms had brought her closer to him and she didn’t shy away from pushing her head into his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his torso.

The heat radiating off of him almost felt like it began to wrap around her, comforting her in her grief. Klaus kept one arm around her back and another in the hair on the back of her head. His head craned down and he gently pressed his lips to her temple. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. She feels the most safe she has ever felt in the past two years in his arms. The sandalwood cologne fills her lungs when her nose digs deeply into his shirt, surely ruining it with her tears but she's not too worried about that right now.

After a few long moments of being wrapped up in his body, he halts the slow brushing of her hair that she had just noticed he was doing. Klaus’ head pulls away to get a better look at her and she tilts her head up to do the same.

“Come. Let’s get you inside.”

Caroline nods and lets Klaus guide her back into his bedroom. He shuts the French doors behind him and closes the cream drapes, the sounds of the city now greatly muffled by the extra barrier. Caroline walks over to the bed. Once she’s sat down, Klaus is already over by the fireplace and starting the fire. She tries to catch her breath. Although she wasn’t sobbing, she still finds it hard to regain herself. A crackle comes from the fireplace and when Klaus stands from his crouched position, she can see the small flames of the fire begin to lick at the wood inside. In no time, Klaus is right there, taking the coat from her shoulders and silently encouraging her to lay down on the bed. She pulls the soft covers over herself as Klaus’ eyes rove over her.

“Will you stay?” The words escape her lips before she can understand what she had said.

Klaus studies her for a moment but his attention is pulled towards the sliding doors that are cracked open just enough for him to see his brother. His brother’s presence now reminds him of the factions meeting they were supposed to attend tonight in light of the recent events between the witches, werewolves, and vampires, but Caroline is in a sensitive emotional position. Although he finds it surprising for her to feel comforted by him, he doesn’t feel as inadequate for the job as he would with anyone else. He decides then what he will do. New Orleans can wait. If anything, his brother is more than equipped with handling tonight’s meeting without him.

His head turns back towards Caroline. The deep blue of his eyes already indicate his answer to her and she slides to the other side of the bed to give him room. Klaus toes off his boots and just before he lays down, his eyes glance up to see the sliding door closing all the way and his brother’s footsteps retreating away.

When he’s settled onto his back, Caroline quickly tucks into his side. The move isn’t unexpected with her trying to seek a source of comfort. He slowly pulls his arm out from under her and instead wraps it around her body, placing his hand just above her hip as she buries herself into his ribcage.

Klaus lays there for a while, listening to the changes in her heart beat and studying the way it slows when she falls asleep. He only allows himself to shut his eyes when he hears his brother return an hour later, feeling more comfortable being asleep when at least one other Original is awake. He won’t take any chances with Caroline. He won’t risk losing her.

-------------------------------------------------

When Caroline wakes up that next morning, she isn’t shocked that she’s alone and the place where he had once been was vacant of his body heat. She never assumed Klaus to be the type of man to sleep in by any means being as paranoid as he usually was but it had seemed like he’d been gone for quite a while. As much as she wants to think that maybe he had some weird bout of inspiration to paint or do whatever artistic thing he prided himself with, she has the better judgement to know it was business related.

From what she could tell, he and his brother were the main one’s calling the shots in the French Quarter. Not unexpected, considering Klaus is, well, Klaus. But he has subtly mentioned from time to time whilst they were out yesterday that there was some tension between a few of the supernatural factions. Caroline imagines that it's more of a regular occurrence and something that comes with ‘ruling’ (Klaus’ words, not her’s) over the supernatural community within New Orleans. Thus, it doesn’t take a genius to understand Klaus must have a decent amount of business to conduct most of the time. She wouldn’t be all too surprised if he was out handing threats out like flyers first thing in the morning.

The mere idea that Klaus has probably been awake for at least a couple hours now prompted her to get motivated for the day. Although she didn’t directly have any plans other than possibly not getting her throat ripped out by Rebekah, she still needed to eat.

It didn’t take her long to get dressed and make her way out of Klaus’ bedroom. But when she made it to the hallway outside of Klaus’ study, she was a little torn on what she should do next. Klaus hadn’t exactly shown her around the Compound so she really only knows the way in and out of the Compound from his living quarters.

There were a few doors on each side of the hallway. She chose the route she was more familiar with and decided to start there. Fearing that she might be interfering in his family’s privacy, she only ventured into the rooms that were already open. She first found a parlor room with dark red couches and a small wet bar, next she found a very extensive library where she read a few of the titles of the books. Some were familiar and some were totally unknown to her, but she imagined that she wouldn’t know any books that were written in other languages like the French one she decided to flip open. After finding a few first editions, she thought it best to move on and keep her human, clumsy hands away from books that could be worth more than a couple thousand dollars. When exiting the library and finding the courtyard, she climbed down the stairs and got lucky when she found the kitchen.

Walking over to the fridge, she crosses her fingers that she doesn’t just see blood bags. Upon opening the fridge, she’s satisfied to find a tray of eggs, milk carton, a drawer dedicated to fruits and vegetables, a couple bottles of water, some condiments in the door slots, and a couple other assorted food items that were relatively healthy. She would do just about anything right now to satisfy her sweet tooth that she woke up with but she’s also grateful that the Mikealson’s even have food in general, so she’ll take what she can get. So, Caroline takes the grape jelly out of the door slot and then goes to search for bread. Surely if they had food in the fridge, they had to have some non-refrigerated items too, right?

Looking through a couple of the cabinets, she mentally notes which cabinet held the plates, glassware, coffee grounds, and such. She finally finds the bread and limits herself to two slices. She may be hungry but she’s also human.

Grabbing a plate and spotting the toaster conveniently placed on the counter next to the coffee machine, she places the slices of bread inside.

In that moment, she thinks of the simple weekday mornings just before school. Those so easy and simple times where she had convinced herself could be the worst for her. How wrong she was. Now, she misses those mornings where all she had to worry about was boys and if she was going to pass that week’s pop quiz. In fact, she can even say she misses the times where the worst that could happen was an unexpected visit from a particularly moody Original hybrid in which had a 50/50 percent chance of ending with a pair of toxic hybrid teeth in someone’s throat.

Now, Caroline realizes that Klaus must have either grown to enjoy watching her and her friend’s failed attempts to end his life or preferred to use ‘kid-gloves’ because if he were to kill any of her friends, he knew better than to think she’d ever forgive him. Either way, she feels somewhat lucky in an odd way that he hadn’t reacted as badly as she now knew he could have. Unlike Klaus, Silas had no attraction or reason to extend any amount of mercy towards her, which was extremely terrifying. Silas may be mortal now but he is also a very powerful witch. One that was able to keep up with her when she was still a vampire.

The ding of the toaster brings her out of her reverie. Caroline reaches into the toaster to carefully pull the slice of bread out. The front of her finger grazes the hot metal inside and she pulls it out as quickly as she can on instinct. “Damnit!” She whispers heatedly, knowing there were other vampires within the house. In the process of taking a step back as the pain still sizzles underneath her skin, she could see something in her peripheral vision. Turning her head quickly, she yelps.

“Shit!” She curses, jumping slightly in her own skin when she finds an unexpected figure in the entranceway of the kitchen.

A smirk graces his features and a deep chuckle escapes his lips.

“God, you can’t do that. I can’t exactly sense when you’re creepily stalking me anymore.”

He doesn’t respond but she thinks he gets the point. Klaus walks over to her and easily deposits both slices of toast onto the plate she had out. Fishing out a butter knife from one of the drawers and opening the lid to the jam.

“I’d like to take you somewhere.” His eyes glance over to her as she watches him spread the jam over the slices of toast before placing the used knife into the stainless steel sink. He then slides the plate closer to her and walks back over to the fridge to put the jar of jam away.

Caroline takes the plate and takes a couple steps over to the island counter where a couple stools sat. She sits and takes a bite out of her toast. “Now?”

“As soon as you are ready.” He then grins at her, clearly hiding something from her. “Although, I recommend you wear something you don’t mind getting dirty.”

----------------------------

They’ve been in the car maybe five minutes before Caroline began to question him on where he was taking her.

“Seriously?”

His eyebrow rises and he glances towards her with lighthearted eyes that tell her he was certainly enjoying her irritation. Caroline just resorts to glaring at him but it doesn't hold nearly the same weight that it had a few years ago when she’d glare at him then and he clearly knows it. Klaus’ eyes return to the road and Caroline sighs, settling further into the leather seat of his luxury SUV.

“If you can’t tell me where we’re going, can you at least tell me something?” She asks, thinking that maybe he would want to play the ‘hint game.’

A sly smirk puts the edge of his lips up. Instead of giving into her, he decides to veer off into a different topic altogether.

“Do you recall the period of time when Alaric helped train the doppelganger in the ridiculous hope that it would somehow keep her safe from my siblings and myself?”

Caroline is a little taken aback by his question. Obviously, she remembers. Elena had once tried to get her to join her and Alaric. What surprised her about it though was that he even knew about it in the first place because Elena had thought they’d kept it all ‘hush hush’ specifically so he wouldn’t find out. Although, Caroline now thinks that he would most likely know from pulling the information out of Tyler or having a hybrid tail them once in a while. Both scenarios are equally as realistic.

The Land Rover slows and turns down a dirt path that is cascaded with tall trees. Clearly, he was taking her somewhere in the countryside.

“Yeah, but I don’t see how that’s relevant unless you plan to drag me out into the middle of the woods and kill me.” She turns her head to look at him. “Because I will put up one hell of a fight.”

His chuckle is low but not in a dark way. The blue in his eyes gets a little brighter when he parks the car at the edge of a large clearing. There’s a few fallen logs and if Caroline squints just enough, she can make out the shape of a couple makeshift tents a couple hundred yards away. She feels the Original turn towards her after shutting the car off and she looks his way.

“Trust me, sweetheart, if I were to make you my victim, I wouldn’t need to take you to the Bayou.” The tone in his voice is as casual as if he were talking about dinner plans and the smile he dotes is edging on the side of diabolical.

She raises a brow and turns away from him as she opens the passenger side door. “Because that makes me feel reassured.” Caroline knows his lips tug higher up into his cheeks, enjoying her slight sarcasm and their back-and-forth banter. Sometimes she thinks he likes making her angry, she can’t really think of a reason why, but he seems to always draw that emotion out of her at times when he doesn’t really have to.

Upon getting out, she notices he rounds the back of the car and opens the tailgate. Klaus pulls two objects out and closes the tailgate before meeting her a few paces away from the black vehicle. Her eyes widen a hair and her eyebrows rise dramatically when she sees what he took out for the back of his SUV.

He holds two long medieval looking swords, one in each hand. Stepping up to her, he readjusts his grip on one of the swords and holds it by the blade, offering it to her by the leather wrapped handle. She physically hesitates, clearly confused about what his end goal was.

Klaus seems amused by her reaction and tips his head to the side.

“Go on, it won’t bite you.”

Her eyes shift from the sword in his hands and his eyes. Slowly, she grasps the handle of the sword and Klaus lets go. Caroline struggles for a moment, the sword being heavier than she had anticipated. Not knowing what to do with it, she lets the end of it sit on the ground.

On the other hand, Klaus holds his sword by the handle and holds it out diagonally in the air.

“Strike it.” He orders.

Caroline does nothing except look at him strangely before rolling her eyes. “Seriously? You brought me out here for your own amusement? Newsflash, I’m not exactly some minion you can drag out to weird places and play ‘swords’ with.”

Klaus sighs and lowers the sword down, expertly thrusting the point into the grassy ground.

“This is no game, love. As much as I’d like to be showing you my city, I have a vested interest in your safety and to keep you protected. From what I have come to realize within the past years in residing in New Orleans, I can’t be in multiple places at once. Thus, why we are here.” His empty hand motions along as he speaks and his eyes glance around the clearing at it’s mention. “I’d like to be able to say that I will be by your side at all times, but that would simply be false. Which is why I think it is pertinent and rather of astronomically great import that you have some ability to defend yourself.”

Caroline glances down at the sword in his hand. “With a sword?” She asks with a stifled laugh, almost amused by the thought of using a sword in an actual realistic fight.

“No, but it gives you a starting place and the ability to learn how to use spare objects as weapons.”

Klaus then raises the sword again and nods. “Now, strike it.”

#klausmikealson #klaroline #drabble #klaroline drabbles #the originals #klaus mikaelson #the vampire diaries #klaus x caroline #caroline forbes #elijah mikaelson #freya mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson

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cognacdelights · 4 years

Text

crying lightning [1]

the romantic tirades of indie routledge series masterlist

my outer banks masterlist

add yourself to my taglist

crying lightning by arctic monkeys

summary: after being caught stealing from the local liquor store, things get heated between indie routledge and her at-a-loss, older brother, forcing her to seek refuge in her brother’s best friend.

warnings: angst. cursing. drug use.

“Get your hands off me, you big oaf,” her disgruntled voice sounded throughout the over-grown yard, accompanied by the heavy pounding of her defiant footsteps against the dirt-covered driveway. An embittered, obnoxious groan surpassed her cherry-flavoured lips as she struggled to free her petite frame from the burly, bearded man’s grasp. With his clumsy, paw-like hand firmly clutching at the collar of her over-sized, denim jacket, he forced her flailing limbs towards the front porch.

“Woah,” John B acknowledged the presence of both his wayward, tearaway sister and the enraged, unshaven man, as he appeared in the open doorway - Sarah’s half-naked silhouette appearing behind his squared-off shoulder, “what’s going on? Let her go, man.” After negligently guiding her up the several uneven stairs, he released the youthful girl from his strong clasp - thrusting her dainty silhouette, rather forcibly, towards her older brother. Her worn combat boots stumbled slightly as she found her feet once again, before adjusting her denim jacket and regaining her infamous defensive posture. John B stepped forward instinctively - creating a barrier between his troublesome sister and the clearly aggravated man before him.

“Caught her stealing bottles of cider from my store,” the tall, broad-shouldered man informed, “and now she’s refusing to pay for the damaged stock.” With an angered expression contorting his wrinkled, sour features, he crossed his jacked-up, muscular arms across his chest.

“I’m not going to pay for something that I can’t have,” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone, rolling her eyes sanctimoniously. She too folded her denim-adorning arms across her chest in a resistive display of defiance - refusing to back down against the store owner. A churlish scowl painted itself across her fresh, make-up-less face as her dark eyes clouded over with resentment. A slither of her animosity stemmed from the fact that she had been caught; she had watched both her brother and JJ partaking in the five-finger discount on many occasions, and never once had they been apprehended - yet she had. It was more a pride thing than anything, she was embarrassed that she had been caught.

“You damaged it, you pay for it. Unless you want me to call up Sherrif Peterkin and tell her all about your klepto tendencies?” the red-faced store owner challenged - evidently aware of the Routledge siblings lack of parental guardian. Whilst the siblings may argue differently, the bearded liquor store owner had awarded some form of leniency to the girl as it was; he could have just called Sheriff Peterkin in the first place, and he probably should have, but he knew the consequences of involving the police for the both of them. After all, everybody knew each other’s business in the Outer Banks.

“Sure, go ahead. I’ll tell her all about how I only dropped the bottles because you tried to grab me. Like touching sixteen year old girls, do you, huh?” she continued her angst-filled verbal tirade, earning an amused chuckle from the blonde-haired boy residing on the beat-up, old sofa.

“Shut up, you,” John B warned her in a deep, solemn tone - turning his head to peer momentarily over his shoulder as he pointed his index finger at his loud-mouthed sister. His sun-soaked, caramel complexion was devoid of expression as his intense mahogany eyes glared into her, willing her with all his might into submission just this once. A displeased pout graced her peach-toned lips at the harshness of his tone. “We don’t need to get Sheriff Peterkin involved - I’m sure this was just a misunderstanding. I’ll pay for the damaged stock. How much does she owe?”

“$20 for the cider and $60 for the display stand,” the brawny man stated, seemingly less enraged at the confirmation he would receive compensation for the damage that the unruly Routledge girl had caused. His confrontational demeanour softened as his shoulders relaxed, appearing to be much more reasonable. His concentrated, beady eyes observed as the eldest of the Routledge siblings fished around in the pockets of his light-wash denim jeans.

“Here, $30, that’s all I got,” pulling the crumpled bank notes from the depths of his back left pocket, he promptly surveyed their value, before placing them in the store owner’s outstretched hand. An apologetic half-smile tugged his lips upwards as he acknowledged the significant deficit between the cost of the damage she had caused, and the amount which he could muster up.

“I’ve got $20,” the smoke-laced, husky voice of JJ interjected the conversation. Pushing his hips upwards in an attempt to gain access to the full depths of his cargo shorts pockets, his large hand delved into the fabric pouch as he retrieved the twenty-dollar bill. Reaching over the battered arm of the sofa, he nonchalantly placed the scrunched up bill into John B’s hand - who proceeded to forward the note into unnaturally muscular man’s grasp.

“Close enough, right?” John B questioned, optimism evident within his words as he attempted to smooth over his younger sister’s venomous words from before, “we can just forget that this ever happened, no need to call the police over a few bottles of cider.”

“I don’t want to see her in my store again,” the man told John B, his voice stern and unforgiving. A caustic, surly smirk etched itself into her youthful features as she took both her index and middle fingers - haughtily saluting them at the liquor store owner. The bald-headed, bearded man refused to rise to her childish mannerisms, simply turning on the heel of his tattered Birkenstock’s and making his way back down the dirt-covered driveway.

Letting out a heavy huff of air from her lungs, the petite girl threw herself onto the sun-faded cushions of the sofa - her fishnet-stocking-clad legs draping themselves across the lap of her brother’s best friend. Since her father’s disappearance almost a year prior, the raucous, blonde-haired boy had become a part of their dwindling family. She found herself accepting his increased presence - mainly because he seemed to be on her side the majority of the time, understanding her grief. She was more than comfortable around him, and often relying upon his reassuring, alleviating company to settle the many heated arguments that had erupted between her and her brother. Sadly, their father’s probable death hadn’t brought them as close it should have done; their relationship was still delicately fragile at the best of times.

“He may have got my cider, but at least he didn’t get my twinkie,” a devilish, wicked grin engulfed her immature features - as her dainty, onyx-painted fingertips retrieved the small childrens snack from the concealed, inside pocket of her denim jacket. JJ let out an entertained chuckle at her juvenile words, the corners of his chapped, rose-tinted lips pulling upwards into an adoring smile.

“No, not my twinkie!” she exclaimed in her usual, dramatic tone as the shaggy-haired blonde couldn’t resist swiftly stealing the finger-shaped sponge snack from her un-expecting grasp. In one hasty, nimble motion he had ripped the corner of the transparent packaging open and had carelessly discarded it on the old, rotted decking floor. As he prepared to devour the infamous childrens snack in one whole bite, his hazy, cerulean eyes peered to his left. Two wide, pleading doe eyes stared back, accompanied by a brooding, sulky pout; the one thing - well, two - he just couldn’t resist. With the strings of his heart well and truly plucked, JJ opted to take a nibble instead before handing it back to the frowning girl beside him. A content, satisfied smile replaced her glowering expression as she rested her head against his muscular shoulder - twinkie in hand as she took small, pleasureful bites.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” the furious voice of John B consumed the porch, a sullen, sombre expression contorting his chiselled features, “If he calls Peterkin, we’re done for. She’ll call DCS and we’ll be hauled off to foster care on the mainland.” His mocha eyes had clouded over - and appeared almost sable under the veiled shade of the porch. The prominent vein in his neck began pulsating as his blood pressure began to rise - the realisation of the consequences of her thoughtless actions plaguing his mind. To say that he was livid was an understatement.

“It’s not like you lot don’t do it,” she casually shrugged a response, disregarding her brother’s fears. She couldn’t even acknowledge his anger by meeting his disappointed gaze - instead, she simply licked the sugar-laced crumbs off her fingers. Of course, she didn’t understand the gravity of the situation - after all, she was merely an immature juvenile. John B had done his best to take the weight of their unfortunate circumstances on his own shoulders and shield his younger sister from the troubles of a world without a parental guardian. However, in doing so, he had made her blindly ignorant to the consequences of her behaviour.

“We don’t get caught,” JJ’s gruff, low voice chimed into the conversation. He typically found himself advocating for the younger, troublesome tearaway; however, this time, he couldn’t excuse her careless, reckless behaviour. Even he had to admit that what she had done was more than irresponsible - and that was before addressing the way in which she had handled the situation. She had, to put things more plainly, fucked up.

“Just...” her at-a-loss brother struggled to find his words, completely at wits’ end with how to keep a handle on his wayward sister, “go to your room.”

She couldn’t help the resounding snort which exited her airways, nor could she restrain the obnoxiously amused snicker which surpassed her soft, full lips, “what, am I grounded now too, Dad?” Surly sarcasm was her defense mechanism - and boy was she not afraid to deploy it; she practically wore it daily as her armour. The youngest of the Routledge siblings was pushing her elder brother - perhaps, more than she realised.

“Yeah, actually, you are. Until you turn eighteen because then you’re not my fucking problem anymore,” John B spat in response, his temper precariously reaching the level of which he could no longer control. The dark-haired boy shook his head in disapproval of his sanctimonious younger sister, deciding to remove himself from their sour argument before he uttered words which he would be unable to take back. He retreated back into the neutrality of the kitchen - allowing Sarah to calm his seething body like the dutiful girlfriend she was. She, on the other hand, curled her dainty legs beneath her slim body, nestling herself further into JJ’s side, tensely coiling her arms around his bulging biceps.

Half an hour had passed since they had allowed a comfortable silence to engulf them. She remained grasping onto the naturally acquired brawn of his upper arm as her somewhat blurred vision fixated on his meaty, bear-like hands. His ring-clad fingers were expertly filling the rolling paper with as much weed as it could sustain, before running his wet tongue along the edge fo the thin, flimsy paper and proceeding to shape his creation into the signature joint shape. Then, he began the process all over again.

She was the first one to surrender in their now suffocating silence - an involuntary sniffle filling the humid, salt-laced air. In one abrupt motion, she reached up to wipe away the rogue tear which had escaped the rigid confines of her waterline. Their lack of conversation had forced the girl to think about what her brother had said; the words of her only remaining family member anticipating the day when she no longer had to be associated with him tore through her mind like a twister. He had hurt her - in fact, he had hurt her a lot - and she didn’t know how to process the emotions. She had hoped that JJ hadn’t noticed, being reluctant to admit that her impeccable armour had been tainted so easily, however his quick, sapphire eyes had fell upon her almost instantly upon hearing her quiet, feeble whimper. As gently as he could manage, he nudged her resting head with his shoulder - reminding her that he was there.

“So, cider, huh?” he questioned following her continuing silence, attempting to lighten the heavy atmosphere that encompassed them. She responded with a mere nod - afraid that if she were to allow any words to surpass her peach lips that they would falter, and give away her disheartened mood. Placing one of his perfectly rolled masterpieces between his lips, JJ fiddled with his Zippo lighter, running his thumb against the clasp to produce a flame. He brought the flickering glint to the end of his joint, inhaling until he saw the welcomed glow of the ignited marijuana. “Nice taste, Squirt,” he curled his large fist loosely, encouraging her to follow suit, as the nickname she violently loathed rolled effortlessly off his tongue. She did, softly tapping her knuckles against his.

“Don’t encourage her,” the austere, stringent voice of John B travelled from the kitchen - overhearing his best friend’s praising words through the open window above the pair. Evidently, he was still infuriated.

“I hate him,” she proclaimed loudly, intending on her brother hearing; she yearned to hurt him the way he had hurt her. Lifting her head from the comfort of JJ’s shoulder, her dainty, jett-painted fingertips grasped the joint. She hesitated slightly before bringing the over-stuffed joint to her lips - inhaling deeply, allowing the weed-laced toxins to fill her lungs before eventually exhaling.

“No you don’t,” JJ responded. His voice was soft and tender, as he brushed the stray, unruly baby hairs from obstructing her fresh, make-up-less face. Taking back his beautifully crafted joint, he placed the tasteless paper between his lips - taking a long, deep drag himself. The roll-up settled between his fingertips as his concern-filled eyes remained on the girl beside him.

“Yes I do,” she protested, insistent on her earlier proclamation. She leaned her toned, athletic body forward ever so slightly in an attempt to retrieve the joint back from his possession - however, his reflexes were still in tact as he lifted his hand from her limited reach, denying her anymore of his special blend. She was infamous for not being able to handle her weed, and with the overly generous amount he had stuffed into his current smoke, JJ did not want to be responsible for any further trouble. She let out a dissatisfied huff before returning to the comfort of his side, her arms snaking themselves around his prominent muscles once again.

“Will you stay tonight?” her voice was small as her innocent-looking doe eyes peered upwards at the older blonde, “he’s going to be in disappointed Dad mode all night and I don’t want to hideout in my room until the morning. The boys are coming back from Casa Amor tonight on Love Island and I need to know if Callum picks Shaughna or one of the new girls.”

“So I have to stay just because you want to watch some shitty reality tv programme?” he clarified with a low chuckle. She nodded her head in a matter-of-fact manner, her red, puffy doe eyes still refusing to allow him to stand his ground. “If I must,” he obliged, “but you have to apologise for being a brat.”

“This is bribery,” her notorious, gloomy pout once again etched itself into the foundations of her sun-soaked features as she sulked at his response, “and I’m not a brat.”

“Off you go, Squirt,” JJ lightly patted his warm, calloused palm against the netted material that covered her legs - bringing the dwindling joint back up to his chapped lips.

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howlingday · 3 years

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Yang had traversed the wild wastes of Vacuo, overcame the deadly traps of Ozpin's ruined Beacon, and escaped Salem herself. Now, there was but one task left.

Adam: (Holding a small chest in his hand) Do you see now, Blake?! Do you see what your true love can do?! You threw away our love to be with humans, but I have slaughtered countless of those you once held dear! And now, even the Relic of Chance is mine! Would you have me challenge the Brothers themselves next?! (Looks behind him, Sees Yang approaching) You? (Turns away) Is this the best you can do, Blake?! Sending your broken stand-in to challenge me, the King of Faunus?!

Yang wrenched the chest from the prideful king's grasp and opened it for the first time since it's creation, and unleashed the full might of the Brothers themselves. Yang's flames billow both yellow and blue.

Adam: You're still only human; weak, cowardly, pathetic! The same as the night she begged me to spare you!

Yang: I'm not the same human you cut down that night. The monster you created has returned, and she will have her revenge.

Adam: You have no idea what a true monster is, human! (Horns protrude from his head as his teeth grow and sharpen, His body expands with muscle as he mask falls and shatters under his massive hooves) Your pitiful life ends tonight! Prepare to join Blake on the other side!

The battle between the Golden Beast and the Crimson King was fierce, pitting one's fury and thirst for vengeance against another's spite and hatred and desire for destruction. When Yang threw a punch, it was as though the Sun itself burned in the night. When Adam swung his blade, it was like the Moon descended to cut 'twixt the stars.

However, soon the berserker proved too much for the swordsman, so he unleashed a great and terrible magic upon her. With one quick motion, Adam tore a rift in the space between them, and it swallowed Yang inside. As she fell, she heard him speak to her.

Adam: You have learned many ways to kill a monster, human. Flesh that burns. Bones that crack. But to break one's spirit is to truly destroy them! I'm sure you recognize this night, human. The night it all changed. The night your weakness killed everything you loved.

The nightmares that had haunted Yang for years has now taken form and substance. Her failure lied just beyond the glass.

Yang: Get away from her!

Blake: Yang, no!

Yang: STOP! I WON'T LET YOU KILL HER AGAIN!

Swarms of Grimm, all shaped like Yang, surround both her and the visions forms. She rushed inside, through the glass, and made quick work of the Grimm that attacked Blake and her younger self, both of whom seemed frozen in time. With every monster slain, the battlefield shifted and parted, disintegrating into nothing.

The battle proved for naught, however, for as she punched the final the Grimm, it screamed like a woman. The woman who loved and trusted her. She looked down to see her arm embedded in the torso of Blake Belladonna.

Yang: (Sobbing) Why? You were innocent. You were all innocent.

Adam: Were they, though? She certainly wasn't. Do you know how much blood she had on her hands? How many lives she ruined with her selfish actions? Every death is on her head! Including yours! (Yang returns from the real world, Adam readies his sword) Which I will now take!

Yang: (Blinks, Sees a black sword embedded in the ground) ...Blake? (Rolls away from Adam's strike, Runs to Gambol Shroud)

But the battle was not over. It seems the Brothers had left one final gift for the girl.

Yang: (Swings Gambol Shroud a few times, Smiles) I'm not alone. I still have my friends. My family. And I'm gonna show you just how strong they make me.

For Yang, the battle continued with new purpose! With new vigor! Every swing of Adam's blade was missed as she dodged and parried, thrusting and slicing into him with each strike. When he clashed, he pushed against Yang, but she proved to be too much and overpowered him, earning a free strike across his chest, followed by a thrust, and a helm-splitting strike from above. His aura, once an unstoppable wall for her punches before, was now like paper with every slash of her blade.

Adam: (On one knee, Struggling to stand as he glares) Remember, human! Were it not for me, you would not have gained this strength! I gave you your strength; I saved you!

Yang: I haven't forgotten, Taurus. I remember exactly how you saved me that night.

Adam: That night... I made you into the perfect warrior!

Yang: Congratulations. (Stabs him in the heart, Slides it out)

Adam: (Bellows a death roar, Falls to the ground)

Yang had accomplished what many had thought impossible; a human had killed the Faunus King. Remnant had been saved, and would rise again.

The same, however, could not be said for Yang. She had sought assistance from many foes and allies alike, but none could truly heal what most ailed her.

Yang: ...Please, make me forget them. Make me forget that night I failed my team.

Salem: You have done well, child. Though we mourn the loss of another mortal, we thank you for ending his slaughter. The souls of your family and friends can rest easy knowing his death has been achieved, but we cannot erase the memory of that night. No power could ever force such a night from your memories, nor make you or us forgive them.

In the end, knowing the nightmares of her past would never leave her, Yang Xiao Long made her way to the top of Beacon tower, overlooking all the Brothers had created.

Yang: (On the edge of the tower, Looks down) The Brothers have abandoned me. Now... There is no hope. (Walks forward)

Yang had cast herself down from the highest point in all of Vale. After eight years of suffering, her nightmares would finally come to an end.

Death would be her escape from sorrow.

But Yang's fate was not as it had seemed. The Brothers had other plans. Feeling no impact, she opened her eyes to find herself floating, and suddenly rose higher into the vast sky, higher and higher until she could touch the stars. Until she could walk on the moon.

Salem: You will not die this night, Xiao Long. You have done the Brothers a great service, and thus should be rewarded, rather than punished. Adam was an unruly beast, a wild creature who sought only destruction and violence. A poor choice for the Faunus King, no? (A portal opens, Revealing a silver palace inside) But now the throne is empty, and a King must step forward to claim it. Embrace the portal, Yang Xiao Long, and become the new Faunus King.

Yang climbed through portal, the silver palace shining around her. As she climbed it's steps, her hands and feet became paws, and as she approached the throne, he teeth grew and became fangs. A tail grew from her tailbone, wrapping itself around her waist as she sat down.

Hail the human who became the King of the Faunus.

Hail, Yang Xiao Long.

#rwby #adam taurus #yang xiao long #god of war #blake belladonna #salem

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cockasinthebird · 4 years

Text

About a month ago, it was a certain someone’s birthday, and it took me that long to write this, BUT I would like to use the two weeks of being flagged as a perfectly valid excuse for no writing at all, thank you very much yes 😌

So, to dearest @jimhhawkins, You’ve already read some of this, but here’s all of it! The ending is not what I had in mind originally, but I am not in full control of where it goes; I simply follow the flow of the story and so... well, enjoy 💝

“Sometimes I just want to fucking punch you.”

“Then go ahead, pretty boy; hit me, if you dare.”

It’s been a few months since their “official meeting” at Tina’s party, and it is ardently clear to any one person that spends even a minute in the same room as these two, that what’s happening between them burns hotter than the sun, a blistering heat that can’t be extinguished, yet whether it’s hatred or passion is up for discussion.

Steve’s fist curls tighter. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. Whatever is going on between them, both in public and in private, is painful - broken hearts and broken noses, things that they both crave for viciously, and when being friends is too dangerous, too close, a useless rivalry suddenly doesn’t sound that bad. At least it still brings them together.

Like now. The snow lies heavy on the grass surrounding the Harrington mansion, the dark woods shielding them from the rest of the world as they stand frozen here together, within reach, the tips of boots just touching.

Yes being friends would make everything too hard to conceal, the truth behind their anger would be too obvious then. So Steve dares.

And Billy laughs, bent slightly forward as red spatters across the white snow, like rose petals scattered to set the mood, and Billy is fucking laughing, maniacal and wild, as he whips up again to let the stream from his nose run uninterrupted down his lips, drip from his chin onto Steve’s winter boots.

“Better?” he grins.

The ache in Steve’s fist spreads till his hand feels restless, the urges of his heart upon seeing Billy bleed rushes down quick.

“Not yet,” his response a lurid groan of wanting, and with a hand strong at Billy’s neck, pulls him in to taste the coppery hatred, the sickly need.

Billy doesn’t punch back, doesn’t have a witty remark, doesn’t call Steve disgusting names for any of this. No, he lets his so-called rival do whatever the fuck he pleases; pulling their bodies flush, lapping up the blood, biting and pulling at his lips, grinding their growing lust together.

“God- shit, I wanna fuck you so bad,” Billy growls out with exposed canines, hungry, craving, as he grabs Steve by the jacket, pinning him against the BMW, grinding harder till denim starts to hurt.

It takes a few brutish thrusts together with Steve whining at the friction before he finds his voice again; “Get inside then.”

This isn’t the first time Billy’s been inside the Harrington’s home, and it definitely won’t be the last, but just like on any previous occasion, he doesn’t get to look around - no tour of the dozens of rooms, no offers of beer or food, no chance to stare at family photos that might or might not hang on the walls, all he knows of is the carpeted stairs going up, and the horrible plaid walls of Steve’s bedroom.

It’s neat and tidy as always, doesn’t really look lived in at all, more like a showroom of a model home than a teenage boy’s bedroom. At least the sheets are green now rather than blue, so that’s something.

Steve looks better in green anyways, Billy notes, as his pale, naked body lands on top of the covers, dark hair spread out on a pillow beneath, the moonlight caressing his dotted skin, perfectly highlighting the day old bruises that’s been bitten, kissed, punched, sucked across every inch of available flesh, leading in a clear and practiced pattern down to where he’s needy for attention the most.

As if they don’t have all the time in the world for this, Billy tears away his own clothes and nearly throws himself at Steve again, settling in firm between spread thighs. He kisses along the collarbone, tastes his prey’s heartbeat as he licks down his chest, nipping at oversensitive buds that haven’t had time to heal proper since last, and he can’t help but grin at the pained hiss that’s followed by a roll of hips - the leaky head of Steve’s full dick rubbing against Billy’s stomach.

“Fuck, Billy,” Steve moans with a fist in golden curls, pulling him down, demanding that he go further, oh so impatient to have those lips do what they do best.

And Billy doesn’t resist that, for as much as he loves teasing Steve till he’s on the verge of tears and begging, his own steely cock has been pulsating to the beat of his heart since Steve suckerpunched him outside.

He presses his nose deep into the wiry hair that leads from the navel to Steve’s long erection, inhaling his sweaty scent, musky and strong with just a hint of soap from the morning, to which it all escapes Billy again in a stuttering breath.

In this moment, nothing else in the world exists but the smell of Steve, the taste of Steve, the sound of Steve, as Billy lets out his tongue, wet and flat, to run up the length of his throbbing dick, base to tip, and the moans that echoes out as Billy closes his lips around the head to suck it clean of pre is like an angel’s choir to him, heavenly and desirous.

Legs tremble closed around his head, over his shoulders as he slowly sinks down, swallowing every single inch he can, gag reflex shot to hell by now from frequent use. He’d never dare admit this to anyone, especially Steve, but every day Billy thinks about choking to near death on Harrington’s cock, eager to feel it in his throat, hit against the back and leave him breathless and hoarse with a dull pain for hours to come. The weight, the taste, the touch. It might be the one thing that brings him the most shame in his life, but also the most joy.

By now he can go till his nose is buried in dark pubes, and stays there to revel in the constrictive feel of Steve’s head blocking out most air, pushing hard back against those hips that buck up, the hand in his crown keeping him down as Steve twitches in his mouth, and Billy can’t help but hum at that, enticing and deep.

“Mmh, fuck, Billy, you feel so good,” Steve moans out low, pulling at those golden curls to lift Billy up, just to push him down again.

Blue eyes vanish behind lids as they flutter closed. Billy relaxes, melts into the sheets, focuses on how the tip of Steve’s cock runs along his palate, past his uvula and into his throat where he swallows around the hard flesh.

Steve’s fingers slip loose, falling to choke the sheets beneath them, allowing Billy freedom to go faster, setting a sloppy pace, loud and obscene, spit running down his chin, his throat, a scene straight from top shelf porn if Billy were to brag about it, and the other guy can only concur - gasping out, calling Billy’s name over and over, mixed with curses of fuck and shit, occasionally praises of that feels amazing and a dozen yes’.

“I-I’m close, ah-” he moans out and lifts off of the bed, seeking more to bring him to bliss, making Billy gag at the movement - a sound that brings another deep groan out from above.

At that, Billy makes a sound that would have been of euphoria if it wasn’t muffled by a mouthful of cock, his own steely prick leaking where it’s caught between his stomach and the bed, each abusive little thrust into his mouth makes his body kick against the soft and expensive fabric.

He stills all movement as Steve bucks his hips again, fucking into Billy’s wet heat, whose eyes roll back, toes curling in a struggle to restrain himself from cumming all too soon, oh how easy he is under King Steve’s command.

And from many times before, he recognises the urgent breathing and rising volume of Steve’s elated cursing that comes with him emptying out into Billy’s throat, so deep in that not a single drop can be spilled, to which Billy gladly swallows everything that Steve offers him.

He hollows his cheeks as he moves off, gasping for air and he lets Steve’s flaccid cock slap wetly onto his stomach, who’s fighting for air all the same with an arm thrown over his face.

“We’re not done yet, princess,” Billy growls, kisses his way up abs, through the patch of chest hair, moving till his own lonesome dick rubs along Steve’s, making the brunette hiss and grab on to Billy’s shoulder, digging in fingers.

Steve bites into his lower lip, staring down at Billy as he keeps grinding them together, the soreness of being so oversensitive overshadowed by how lustful he remains.

“Y-You know where the- ah- the lube is,” he says with a wavering voice.

Billy doesn’t even have to look when he reaches for the drawer in the bedside table, proving just how often he’s done this- how often they have done this. His thumb runs along the lid of the tube, ready to flick it open any coming second, but he’s thriving - throbbing from the way Steve’s whining about the roll of his hips, how it’s just not enough, not what he brought him here for in the first place.

Then there’s a fist in his mullet, yanking him away from where he’s been sucking and biting on Steve’s neck, angling him up till their eyes meet.

“Are you gonna fuck me, or should I call somebody else?” he threatens with a frown, brows drawn together all serious.

But Billy is always up to challenge that.

“Oh yeah?” There’s no grin, no smile, just his tongue licking across his lips. “And who else would fuck you so readily?”

“I know Charles in algebra is willing to do my homework if he also gets to do me. Joe in Spanish is so eager to teach me all the right words, and he knows how to use his tongue. Or maybe Tommy Hagan, hmmm,” Steve hums in contemplation at that name, smiling because he knows what the thought of him and Tommy together does to Billy and his intense jealousy of Steve’s first guy. “It’s been a while since I let him fuck me good from behind.”

“I fucking hate you, Harrington,” Billy huffs out harsh with teeth bared, ready to bite and tear, convincing enough in his tone, but the way a jealous rage pulsates through him begs to differ.

“And what are you gonna do about that?” Steve tilts his head back, exposing his neck, daring Billy to do what he so clearly craves.

Then he’s gone, crawled away, and before Steve can even question it, he’s flipped onto his stomach, legs pushed apart by Billy’s own, now a fist in his dark hair where he’s pulled back with an all too loud moan.

“Ain’t nobody ever fucked you like I do,” Billy snarls directly into his ear.

He angles himself proper till his steely cock slick with pre-cum lands in the crevice of Steve’s cheeks. There he rocks his hips, all the way till his balls slap against Steve’s ass, then back till the tip tickles and teases to go between.

Steve breathes with elation, keening, both hands choking the life out of a pillow.

“If I ever find out you went back and fucked Hagan, I’ll beat the living crap out of him, got it?”

An ever so deeply satisfied moan and an obedient nod is all Steve can manage to respond with.

“Good. You’re mine now, and I don’t do well sharing my toys.”

The cap pops open, and Billy releases his hold on Steve to instead lube up his digits, guides the hand between them and down to mercilessly push the middle finger all the way in, making Steve’s back arch beautifully.

“F-fuck, Billy!” he calls out as his head lands heavy on the pillow, Billy’s thick finger driving in and out with fervor.

A devil’s worth of a grin cracks across Billy’s face as he listens to Steve’s moans. The lube gets tossed aside, the hand instead going down to wrap around Steve’s filling cock, making the oversensitive brunette practically cry out at the touch.

“Mmmm look at you,” he rumbles deep like a bassline, “I’ve barely even managed to swallow all of your cum and you’re hard again already.”

That one digit pushes in deep, curls at all the right spots, as is evident by the loud and abrupt, “A-ah! Shit, yes! There- God-” feeding into Billy’s self-confidence that already rests high above any other person’s ideal.

“Yeah, you like what I do to you?” He thrusts in a second finger, Steve fighting back his every sound, yet Billy feels his lust in the way he clenches and trembles around the two thick digits pumping in and out. “Mmmh, fuck you’re so tight - always such a good little hole for my big cock.”

Steve moans heavy into the pillow, trying not to sound as pliant and easy as he is in the hands of Billy - trying to keep some semblance of self-respect perhaps, keep up that wall that still separates them. But giving in with no inhibitions is so much easier.

“Gonna fill you up, baby,” Billy breathes ragged and wanton as he adds a third finger, adoring the way Steve curses all muffled. “Fuck you into the mattress so hard you won’t be able to sit right for a week.”

At that promise, Billy feels pre leak onto his fingers, slicking up the motion he consistently strokes along Steve’s long erection.

And he chuckles like thunder behind immaculate pecs. “So wet for me, princess. You’re such an eager little whore.”

“I swear to God, Billy, if you’re not gonna fuck me instead of just talking about it, I’ll hit you again,” Steve speaks as he raises up on elbows, glancing behind to watch Billy’s self-satisfied grin falter, a storm brewing in his eyes, clouding the blue skies there.

Then the hand around his throbbing dick is gone, grabbing a fistful of hair instead and shoving his face back into the pillow. Billy pulls out his fingers again, smearing the excess lube all over his own veiny cock, palming at the head as he stares at Steve’s impatient ass clenching at nothing, waiting and waiting and waiting.

“Just when I start to tolerate you, you go being such a dipshit, Harrington.”

Billy strokes himself for longer than necessary, moaning with just a slight bit of exaggeration, egging Steve on, and if his frustrated sounds are anything to go off of, it’s working.

“You only barely make up for it by being such an easy lay.”

He brings the blunt head of his shaft to the hole he’s hungering for, running it up and down the puffy ring, listening to Steve whine for it.

“I just have to look at you and you’re hard.”

Pushes in, just the tip of it, just enough to have Steve let out a long sound of annoyance, a pleading little moan as he leans back, chasing the euphoric stretching of his body, but a firm hand on his ass keeps him at bay, as Billy pulls away just a bit, before dipping in again, like he’s testing the waters, grinning at the reaction he’s getting.

And Steve knows what he has to do for it, hates it, a clear blush spreading across his pale shoulders, washing down his back.

“Billy, Billy please,” he mewls, trying to struggle against the warm palm squeezing a cheek; not in an attempt to wrestle free, but to give Billy what he’s asking for, without so many words. “Please just fuck me, I-I need your cock so bad, so so bad, Billy.”

Billy could absolutely cum from just this - hearing Steve beg like a common whore, stroking his pained erection and giving nothing more than the tip to that willing hole. All he needs is to know he’s needed like this, and he’s finished, but the pleasure of unravelling King Steve this way…

With one brutish thrust, Billy sinks into Steve with such fervor that his knees slip on the bed, spreading him further till he lies flat on top of the covers, breathlessly stuttering out pleasure of being trapped beneath Billy’s forceful weight. Every little sound Steve makes is undeniably euphoric, and Billy stills all movement to enjoy how Steve’s body takes a chokehold on his fat cock, sucking him in like he’s been missed and waited for for years.

“That what you wanted?” Billy drawls out and leans down to bite at the shell of Steve’s ear, his dick twitching and pulsating deep inside, moving his hips to draw tight circles, making the other gasp and moan mindlessly.

Steve eventually manages a hopeless, “Y-yeah,” lying limp and filled and satisfied, when Billy angles his head; turning him enough to share a kiss, to pry lips apart with his tongue, to swallow the little whines that spills as he starts a shallow and agonizingly slow pace.

“Billy, ahh…” Steve whispers, tries to catch on to the rhythm, grinding himself against the covers; lube dripping from his hole mixes with his pre cum, wetting the fabric till it’s slippery and nice against his aching dick.

Then Billy raises off of him - keeps him caught against the mattress, a warm and heavy hand on his back like an anchor, fingers spread out between shoulder blades, the other reaching up to tangle fingers in dark, soft hair, pulling there just enough for Steve’s mouth to be forced open, enabling every lewd little noise escape, moaning and keening, begging.

He pulls all the way back till the head is barely inside still, revelling in the way every muscle clings to him with desperation, watches in the darkness how pale hands strangle a pillow, feels his body tense with irritation beneath his palm. The shift of it all is immediate when Billy pushes back in- shoves his steely cock to the base and out again, loving the perfected melody of skin slapping and Steve crying out loud with the pleasure that Billy gives him, pounds him, fucks him like he’d die if he didn’t.

“Fuck, Billy,” a pathetic, needy, elated whine.

When Billy’s hand lets go of dark locks, Steve’s head lands on the pillow, his body limp and unmoving as Billy uses him like he truly is no more than an expensive toy - a favorite toy. His toy.

“Shit that’s good, arrh-” Billy rasps out.

He rakes one hand down Steve’s skin, across the dimples at the small of his back, down till he grabs a soft cheek with a firm hand, squeezing and pulling it aside to grant him a perfect view of where he fervently thrusts into Steve’s hungering body.

“Come on, get up on your knees, Harrington,” he demands with a voice deep and thrilling, as he pulls out and inches away a bit to make room for how frantically Steve shuffles to get up on his knees, ass in the air, back arched, head turned to gaze back at Billy.

Who licks his lips before biting down as he dives back in with no warning, earning him a lascivious, shocked moan. He grabs on to Steve’s hips as he fucks him with a rapid pace, digging in his fingers till it should hurt, but anyone having the pleasure of listening to Steve like this knows he’s brimming with heat. The curses, the moans, the groans, the pleas - Billy whips his head back to lose himself in it all, an endless symphony of eroticism and animalistic urges and unadulterated wanting.

“B-Billy- Billy, I’m close, ahh-” Steve can barely manage coherent speech, “Please, touch me- fuck, Billy, please!”

Fuck if hearing Steve’s mindless begging doesn’t push at Billy’s insides, waves of lust running hot like lava on the edge of spilling out, but Billy grins all wicked and chuckles hoarsely.

“Nah pretty boy, you wanna cum again, you’re gonna cum untouched,” he growls and slams in harder to emphasise his unfair statement.

Steve dares to defy, bringing his own hand down, but seconds before he’d have been able to jerk himself to completion, Billy takes a punishing grip around his wrist.

“What did I just fucking say?” there’s barely even a hint of jesting to Billy’s tone at that. “Give me your other hand.”

With no hesitation, Steve does as demanded - angles his other arm behind to where Billy wraps his strong fingers around both wrists before pressing them against his back, Billy’s whole body weight on top of it, rendering Steve completely helpless.

Helpless, powerless, completely at Billy’s mercy, skin burning where he strangles his wrists, fingers digging into his hip, a perfectly orchestrated plight that ignites fireworks; a colorful barrage with tensing muscles and a wild cry as Steve cums, feet lifting off of the mattress with the curl of his toes, the release of it all ruining his sheets.

“Holy shit- fuck- Stevie-” Billy barks out rough as he pounds vigorously till his thighs and hips stings, Steve’s body like a vicegrip around his steely cock, burning hot, slick and velvety.

It takes no more than a few brutish thrusts for him to come undone, filling up Steve’s hungering hole with all that he is; an electric charge detonating in his gut that bends him over, sweaty locks falling around his stilled face like a curtain, his entire body pulsating and throbbing as he grinds his last bit of energy against Steve’s flushed ass.

As the world returns with the cooling of his body, all to be heard is both their labored breathing, ragged gasps and wet swallowing.

Billy kisses every mole across Steve’s upper back, shoulder to shoulder, grip softening around Steve’s wrists, but neither of them pulls away. His other hand rubs soothingly at where he’s been viciously holding on for dear life.

He doesn’t want to pull out, move away, end this. This… warm feeling, limp dick buried in Steve, something else buried in Billy’s soul, his mind knows what it is yet still fumbles to unlock it. With help, perhaps, it would see the light of day sooner, but that would require for him to find the courage to reach out.

And Billy always finds himself a coward in the wake of his heart.

With a sigh that hopefully sounds more tired and satisfied than dejected and hopeless, he lifts off of where he’s been resting his forehead between Steve’s shoulder blades-

When the soft and pale body beneath him twists around, Steve reaching out to cautiously grap Billy by the arm, a softness in his eyes where they meet through the darkness, and with flushed cheeks and battered breath, the request comes gingerly,

“Wait, don’t… don’t pull out yet.”

Perhaps even Billy’s heart stops with the rest of him.

“Can we… lie for a bit?”

Well that’s… something new, and the shock of it shows in the wrinkles of Billy’s brow. But when Steve gives his bicep a beckoning squeeze, gaze unwavering, Billy’s more afraid of saying no than yes.

#Harringrove #my writing #Jimhhawkins #lemon #happy belated birthday #happy ending #fluff #somewhat rough #jealousy mmmm #8 goddamn pages

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lethargicsunlight · 3 years

Text

'Demon' Chapter 3 : For The Mission Bakugou x Fem!Reader (book 1)

Hello~

First of all, Thank you for reading!

You can also read this chapter and the previous ones here on my AO3.

Or, you can find the previous chapter here.

I will come up with a better linking system soon, but I gotta get back to work real quick :(

WARNINGS: Injury, bodily fluids, angst, SFW

Please enjoy!

👹🖤⛓🔪💣

You knew running was a losing game, as speedy as you could be. He was saving his energy by using his mutation quirk for movement.

You pull loose a throwing knife from the holster on your side, keeping the blade bared outward to defend yourself as you take in your blurring surroundings. You make a turn, decidedly veering away from the direction of the bar you'd just left; the last thing you needed was for your pursuer to call in reinforcements that could teleport.

Despite sliding through sharp turns, you couldn't manage to get far enough ahead to fake him out. With the tough exoskeleton they possessed, he was easily driving his extra limbs into the walls and using them as leverage to fling himself forward--closing in on you much faster than you wanted.

"What is it little Demon?" He screeches, mandibles scratching and gnawing together as his mouth stretches open. "I thought you would be a much more riveting opponent than this!"

...Sometimes, you gotta give them what they want.

Mid-run, you locate a window going into an abandoned office building. Throwing your knife, it punctures the glass and leaves hair-line fractures across the surface--you can see the reflection of Sting's eyes within the shards as you thrust your weight into the opening.

In a circular motion, you manage to unsheathe one of the longer blades at your back and parry his limbs in the air before you're tumbling over the broken glass. It hurts, but you don't allow yourself to slow down. You roll back up, unsheathing the second blade with your free-hand as you crouch, ready to strike.

Now you at least had one advantage over him. More cover.

"Heh," he seems to hesitate, finally setting his body back upon solid ground as he evaluates you. His gaze is filled with confidence after watching you run away from him. Like prey. In his pause, you have a few seconds to analyze his structure. The exoskeleton would to be too hard to cut, so your focus had to be the areas you could see flesh exposed. You were aware the legs could retreat into his back, which guaranteed a lack of access there. All you could see was his face and his hands--though peaking out from beneath a tucked scarf, was the smooth skin of a throat.

You had made an oath long ago that you would never kill again. But in defense of your mission... you could manage an exception. It would all be over soon anyway.

Instead of coming at you straight on, he throws another knife at you to get everything back into motion. It has you leaping backwards unto a filing cabinet--and he's charging at you finally with the ferocity of essentially four swords. Due to his extra limbs' reach, you realize you won't get a hit on him this way.

It becomes a tangle of blades as you parry and block and twist around his advances, kicking up papers and folders to distract him as you move up and down over obstacles. The venom in your arm begins to dance through your veins, tingling beneath the skin--you are running out of time.

You can see his face twist into a smile; he's sure he's going to win.

Good.

As he makes the mistake you were waiting for, drawing one of his limbs back for a final attack; his mouth is open to announce his triumph. As the air begins to leave his lungs and form syllables in his mouth, time slows down for you. Your blade held up to parry drops from your hand, sending his stinger forward to scrap across your shoulder; close but not too close to your neck. You grab the knife on his belt that you had been eyeing since his first advance in the alleyway, and slice through the joint.

It brings him to a halt, howling as he moves backwards. Green ichor sprays across your face and drips from his new amputation, his other three limbs curling around his body while his hands grope his shoulders.

You pocket his knife and retrieve your blade from the floor.

"Noo! Nonono..!" He's wailing--it sounds grief-stricken now. While there were questionable 'doctors' among villain society; no one has the ability to bring back a limb. Especially one like that. You had mired him, for the rest of his life.

You prepare for a death blow--but the flash of skin beneath the fabric of his shirt causes your hesitation.

You don't have to kill him. It's relief that floods through your tense and calculating mind; briefly before being replaced with pain. As you had expected, a minute in and his neurotoxic venom has seeped into the muscles of your arm. It feels like a chemical burn--acid turning flesh to sizzling nothing. The arm goes limp, but you force your grip on the blade--you had to appear stable.

"I'm going--I'm going to kill you!" He screeches, and there's a squeal behind it like the voice of the insect part of him was a separate entity.

"...You can't kill me." You say slowly, approaching with your good arm raised. You swallow, then let your voice drop an octave as fear seeps into his eyes. There's a button you managed to press a moment ago, that makes the eyes glow from your mask. A cerulean color--a color that was a remnant of your past. "I'm not human."

From the look on his face--he believes you. Your charade is working. You grit your teeth, forcing your shaking and screaming arm to lift and move to the back of your head. It's a movement that suggests you'll remove your mask.

"N-No, no!" He shifts back again, and unaware of his surroundings he trips and lands among the broken glass. His remaining extra limbs curl in close to his face, leaving his abdomen bare. "You're lying! You can't steal people's souls, you're just--you're like us!"

"Then why are you hiding your face?"

"Wh--" With the distraction of speech, he doesn't block when you throw the hidden blade from your hood down into his abdomen. It's a solemn thwack, and then the harsher crack of his skull when you flip the blade in your good hand and swing it between his stinging limbs to ram into his bare temple.

He's out. He's internally bleeding, and he'll never be the same... but he'll live. Maybe when he wakes, he'll have a different outlook on life. Or, most likely, he'll want to hunt you down.

You suppose that should scare you. But given the note you had received from the hero agency you worked with, your time was going to end anyway. He wouldn't have a chance.

"Hrk--" You crumple to the ground, clutching the arm that felt like it should be bare bone rather than flesh. It's like the nerves are exposed; the grip from your clothed hand sending shockwaves down your spine.

You couldn't help but brood--seeing as how moving was so difficult--at how opposite this situation had been compared to what it seemed.

While you had delivered a blow based on skill--you won the fight by lying. Like an illusion, you'd expertly hidden behind the smoke and mirrors to make him believe you were bigger than you actually were. Like you had won easily, rather than by the skin of your teeth.

You wheeze, tears pricking at your eyes while you force yourself to rise. You needed to get back to base. Especially before he did, and preferably before anyone decides to investigate the noises of your chase earlier.

You stumble out of the building through the window you had broken, and slowly creep through the alleys of Yokohama once again.

---

Every television in the base was alight with the bright colors of the Sports Festival.

You were pretty sure that H.H. kept cameras within those screens, ever watching the faces of his lackeys and agents--judging their actions and expressions. Another advantage to always wearing a mask.

You stood, back pressed to a wall in the shadow of a corner as you side-eye the screen. Watching the students filter out unto the field causes a bitter-sweet fluttering in your stomach.

You remembered the first time you had watched the event. You were much younger, sitting with your knees pressing into the floor and palms crushing a few stray sheets of paper. Really, you had never been all that interested in television, mostly because the other kids at the foster-care center were rambunctious when they sat in front of it.

But this time, the only two souls whose eyes were glued to the flat surface were yours and your new foster brother's, who had been the one to convince you to watch it in the first place.

"You gotta watch it--I'm gunna be on it one day!" He says, arm extending to offer his hand. You stare at it, bug-eyed.

"Oh," you meagerly utter, taking his hand and letting him lead you. He laughs and pulls you along until your both sitting in the living-room floor.

"Don't worry," he leans in towards you, "I'll keep the volume low. Trust me though, kay? You gotta watch it, it's really fun!"

You don't believe him, but before long you're both cheering with the crowd and talking avidly about your favorite contestants. He--

You draw yourself out of the memory as large letters appear in your peripheral. The first game had been announced. A race.

There was a sinking feeling in your chest to know that he should have been there amongst them, maybe a year ago. There wasn't a doubt in your mind that he would have won. Maybe even every challenge.

Even at that young of an age, he had always been so full of righteous fire.

He could have been a hero of heroes...

If not for you.

----

You catch pieces of the Sports festival as you move through the base in search of an old 'escape plan' map. Head Honcho had certainly made modifications since the water-treatment plant had been adopted as his new lair, but you could draw them out if only you had a layout of the place.

Chemical spills did happen, so you could only hope that the escape plans had been forgotten when everything was moving in. In a storage closet somewhere, on the door of an outlet box, above the water control panel--somewhere.

Moving through an old lounge, large screens portrayed the ongoing of the race that had long-since started above the heads of a few agents. They were newer, but they noticed you when you walked in.

The looks in the eyes of those whose faces were exposed was that of mixed admiration and loathing. But, fortunately for you--Head Honcho had made it very clear that you were to be left alone. Treated as exalted, as though separate from everyone else on a holy level. Not that they worshipped you--but that he wanted you to be considered the entity you played as. A demon.

The rumor was as much to his advantage as it was yours.

Their eyes follow you in the dark as you move around them, but something suddenly has their eyes whipping back to the screen as the closer viewers make noises of surprise. You decide to look too, selfishly; and you're rewarded with something familiar.

A freckled green-haired boy. He's flying through the air after a massive explosion, rivaling the two that had been effortlessly charging towards the finish from the beginning. The three of them are suddenly close together, faces etched in the effort to win--and you find yourself openly admiring them.

Beneath your mask, you're smiling. Your heart is pounding and you want to cheer like old times, throwing popcorn in the air and rejoicing--no matter who won. You could practically feel your foster brother's spirit next to you, tugging on your heart. You should be there, enjoying this. You hear him say.

Your breath catches in your throat as there's another explosion--Midoriya had managed to throw the bit of metal he'd carried with him all this way and use another surge of momentum to carry him forward. Everything stills as you wait, holding that breath until finally--finally--it is him that enters the arena in first place.

Adrenaline explodes and rockets around your ribs and your heart--but you're still. You mouth the word 'yes', but didn't dare utter a syllable. Controlling yourself, you make for the exit of the room, intent now more than ever to carry out your mission. To help ensure the safety of those three boys that fought so hard to be recognized as heroes.

For those three boys that reminded you so much of him.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x f!reader #bakugou x female reader #bakugou x fem!reader #katsuki x you #bnha fanfic slowburn #deku

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padme-amitabha · 4 years

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Is Anakin a Mary Sue?

youtube

Now it may shock you to learn this but it turns out that Disney Star Wars is kind of a contentious topic. The fandom's been more or less divided between those who like the sequel trilogy and those who like good movies but both groups spend a great deal of time slinging [ __ ] at each other over every form of social media known to man and truly no battleground is more fiercely contested than the protagonist of each trilogy. People who hate the Disney trilogy tend to criticize Rey for being an overpowered, flawless, perfect, invincible and unrelatable character for whom everything just kind of happens with no real struggle or difficulty a Mary Sue if you will.

Meanwhile supporters of the sequel trilogy are quick to leap to her defense usually with one of two potential counter arguments: 1. You just hate strong women 2. So what if she's op as [ __ ] Anakin Skywalker from the prequels was a Mary Sue too and you don't criticize him. You just hate strong women. This argument was brought into sharp focus for me the other day when I was perusing twitter in search of calm, logical, rational discussion about the merits of the sequel trilogy and I chanced upon this little gem of a comment. Ah yes that famously perfect protagonist who wins everything, always makes the right decisions, has a selfless and compassionate personality, and is universally loved and respected by everyone. Well random twitter [ __ ] as it turns out, I am ready to have that conversation right now. So saddle up y'all because the drinker's here to round up this [ __ ] and put an end to this argument once and for all. Let us journey deep into the world of the Star Wars prequels and see if we can figure out whether Anakin Skywalker really is a Mary Sue.

Now in order to do this, we have to nail down what exactly a Mary Sue is. Well according to the dictionary definition it's a term used to describe a fictional character, usually female, who is seen as too perfect and almost boring for lack of flaws originally written as an idealized version of an author in fanfiction. Now the finer points of what makes a Mary Sue can vary depending on who you talk to but after consulting multiple sources and drawing upon my own experiences as a writer, there's a few common traits that I think most people would generally agree on:

1. Mary Sues usually possess skills and abilities that are not consistent with their situation and personal history. They can do stuff they shouldn't realistically be able to and they can do it better than anyone else.

2. They usually possess flawless idealized personalities that no real person could measure up to they never give in to negative emotions like anger, greed, jealousy, selfishness or arrogance.

3. They're universally loved respected and embraced by every good character they encounter even when there's no logical reason for this to happen.

4. They never get seriously challenged, fail at anything or get beaten by anyone, success and victory come easily to them.

5. They always make good decisions and strive to do what's right in any situation so why is this actually a problem.

Well I think the answer should be obvious, Mary Sues are boring as [ __ ]. If a character has got no flaws or weaknesses and never really gets challenged or tested by anything then what is there to get invested in?

It's the flaws and failings of a character that make them interesting in the first place and their struggle to rise above and overcome these flaws that make them so compelling. If these things are missing from a character, then there's nothing for the audience to latch onto or care about. There's nothing to like or root for. That's the essence of a Mary Sue and that's what we're going to be looking at here. So, with that in mind let's see how Anakin stacks up against this list shall we?

Point number one: Being overpowered and having abilities that he shouldn't. Now this more than anything else is what people tend to latch onto when they criticize Anakin and who can blame them really? On the surface it seems pretty ridiculous to see a nine-year-old boy doing stuff like this autopilot but let's put it into a wider context, shall we? When we first meet Anakin in The Phantom Menace, he's a slave living with his mother on Tatooine. He's spent most of his life salvaging junk and using it to make new stuff that can marginally improve their quality of life. As a result, he's become pretty good with technology. Well that makes sense, I guess. He's even applied these technical skills to pod racing where he's been fairly successful despite suffering at least one major crash that we know about. Again, this kind of makes sense when you consider he's strong with the force which would likely give him heightened perception reactions and understanding of the world around him, you know qualities that are important to high performance racing drivers. Anyway, his racing abilities allow the main characters to win an engine part that they need to repair their ship as well as enough money to buy his freedom. Sensing his importance Qui-Gon Jinn takes him under his wing and begins to teach him about the force. Remember when older mentor characters were allowed to teach the protagonist things? I miss that. He also takes part in a space battle that destroys an enemy mothership at the climax of the movie. Now as goofy as this scene is in its execution, it's not actually inconsistent with Anakin’s abilities and experiences. If you've worked around technology vehicles and ships your entire life and you can pilot a racing pod to a high standard then it stands to reason that you could probably operate other types of spacecraft as well, particularly if you have a droid on board to manage most of the ship's systems for you. However, for the sake of argument let's concede the Anakin in The Phantom Menace is indeed more skilled competent and capable than your average person.

So, what kind of effect would this have on a young man from an impoverished background suddenly thrust into a much larger world of power, politics and opportunity? Well that brings me neatly along to point number two: Mary Sues are supposed to have flawless personalities never giving in to anger, jealousy, resentment, vengeance or ambition. All throughout the second and third movies in the prequel trilogy, Anakin displays an increasingly severe set of personality flaws that begin to undermine his position in the world and his relationship with other characters. He's impetuous and hot-headed, frequently rushing into dangerous situations without waiting for backup or considering the risk to himself particularly when someone he cares about is in danger. Keep that one in mind because it'll be important later. He's ambitious but also impatient, feeling like he's been unfairly held back by other characters, particularly Obi-Wan Kenobi, and this resentment causes a growing rift between the two men that eventually spills out into open conflicts. Rather than taking the longer and harder path to wisdom and understanding, Anakin wants everything right away. He also cares deeply about people close to him and this attachment often manifests in explosive bites of anger and jealousy when he feels that they're being threatened like when his mother gets kidnapped and killed by Tusken Raiders, causing Anakin to go on a violent rampage that escalates into wholesale slaughter. Afterwards even he's shocked by what he did or when he believes that Padme has turned against him by Obi-Wan Kenobi, causing him to lash out violently against both of them. By this point he's been totally consumed by uncontrolled jealousy anger resentment and betrayal. All of the emotions that lead to the dark side of the force. The point here is clear: if you [ __ ] with someone he cares about then mercy and compassion go right out the window.

All of his skills, abilities and potential which seemed so overpowered and unnecessary in the first movie in fact serve a very important purpose for his character development. They've generated a sense of superiority, arrogance and overconfidence, and a reluctance to listen to criticism or advice no matter how well intentioned they might be. These are dangerous flaws in his personality all by themselves but combined with his overwhelming emotional attachment to people he cares about it creates a potent cocktail of reckless ambition and deep-seated insecurity that makes him uniquely vulnerable to manipulation something which will later prove disastrous because while Mary Sues are universally loved respected and trusted by everyone, Anakin certainly isn't in the first movie. Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mace Windu and Yoda are all against training Anakin to become a Jedi despite his obvious potential because they know he's already too old to be inducted. This lack of early discipline in his life would leave a dangerous gap in his personality, making him unpredictable and less able to control his emotions, two factors which are extremely dangerous for Jedi. These misgivings would carry over to the next two movies where Anakin is elevated to the Jedi high council on Palpatine’s orders but the council itself refuses to grant him the rank of master because they feel he hasn't earned it yet. Now a different man would see this as an opportunity to prove himself by working hard and earning their trust eventually winning them over and gaining the recognition he deserves but Anakin takes this as a personal insult from the council which drives a deeper wedge between him and a Jedi order which he believes will never truly respect or accept him. Wow it's almost like Palpatine knew this was going to happen and engineered the whole thing to pull Anakin closer to him portraying himself as the only one who can help Anakin realize his full potential. It's a surprisingly smart piece of characterization that's completely consistent with everything we know about both men. The higher Anakin rises the more it stokes the fire of his ambition and superiority and the more he comes to see anyone who doubts or cautions him as a threat to his success. This arrogance and overconfidence also causes him to test himself against powerful opponents before he's actually ready for them and unlike Mary sues who easily win every battle they have to fight, Anakin’s recklessness causes an escalating series of losses like here where he tries to take on count Dooku all by himself and it ends with Anakin getting his [ __ ] arm sliced off. But his desire for revenge against the man who defeated him ultimately causes a more powerful and better prepared Anakin to execute him in the following movie, again proving his willingness to give into vengeance and anger even against helpless opponents or here in his climactic confrontation with Obi-Wan where his enemy has the advantage but Anakin presses the attack anyway and well I think we know how that turns out. Just as a side note I love how this carries over to Return of the Jedi. See Luke’s taking the high ground here just like Obi-Wan did.

What we have here is a clear pattern of behavior from a man whose ambitions consistently outstrip his abilities. Rather than demonstrating patience and restraint and taking the slower and harder path to lasting wisdom and fulfillment, Anakin’s inherent character flaws cause him to push himself beyond breaking point with increasingly disastrous consequences which brings me neatly along to the final points: whereas Mary Sues consistently make good righteous decisions and always strive to do the correct thing, Anakin on the other hand demonstrates a consistent pattern of mistakes and misjudgments that ultimately cost him everything. As I've already shown you the flaws in his personality are exacerbated by his powers and abilities making him easy prey for a ruthlessly ambitious man that knows exactly how to flatter his ambitions and prey on his weaknesses this eventually causes him to commit terrible crimes like murdering an entire tribe including unarmed civilians murdering children, executing a helpless opponent, helping to kill a jedi master, trying to murder his own wife, trying to kill his mentor and best friend, joining forces with an evil dictator to overthrow the republic, delivering this scene…

What I’m trying to say with all this is that Anakin Skywalker is the very furthest thing from a Mary Sue that you can get. Trying to label him as a Mary Sue for no other reason than because he's good at lots of stuff demonstrates a complete misunderstanding of what a Mary Sue is and also of who Anakin is. The reality is that he's a powerful but deeply flawed man whose unique combination of circumstances and abilities have created a dangerous personality that's vulnerable to manipulation and corruption his greatest strengths ultimately proved to be his most terrible weaknesses with consequences that echo across the entire galaxy. Now I have my own thoughts on the prequel trilogy as a whole and I’d be lying if I said they were great movies but fundamentally I think the story they tell is actually pretty [ __ ] good and I’m just gonna say it: Anakin’s rise to power and fall to the dark side is a damn good piece of character work that Disney would have done well to pay more attention to. Anyway, that's all I’ve got for today. Go away now.

I would argue the prequels are great movies but he makes some very good points. I have seen so many Disney fans claim Anakin is a Mary Sue, when he’s anything but a Mary Sue.

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xxrainbow-princessxx · 4 years

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Boundaries - Leo x Isabella x Drake (N*FW, 🍋)

This fic is for Day 31 of the CFWC Kinktober Challenge

The words used in bold are included in this fanfic. Please only read if you are comfortable with the subject matter and also you are 18+. PSA completed.

TW: In this fic we will be discussing quite a few dirty moments. All mentioned above.

Synopsis: Leo found out that Drake and Isabella got a little drunk and both of them fell asleep in her bed. Leo wanted to remind Drake, his little kitten would never stray from him.

Im sorry 🙈😂

Tagging: @drakewalkerfantasy @itslaniquelove @kingliam2019 @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie @lorirwritesfanfic @lorircreates @hopefulmoonobject @rafasgirl23415 @texaskitten30 @rainbowsinthestorm @desireepow-1986 @speedyoperarascalparty @liam-rhys @choicesficwriterscreations

All under the jump!

Leo was not happy. Taking a deep breath through his nose, his sea green eyes glared towards Drake as he hugged Liam warmly. His cheeks were sucked in as he waited patiently like a lion stalking his prey. His brow furrowed as he watched Liam leave immediately rising to his feet and Drake didn’t see it coming as Leo pinned him against the wall, his face reddening with anger, “Something you need to tell me?” the Cordonian Crown Prince barked, his arm pressing hard against Drake’s shoulders. Drake’s eyes widened knowing that Leo knew the truth, “Leo... I swear... nothing...” Leo gritted his teeth, he could only see red as Drake tried to calm him down but the Crown Prince wasn’t having it, “Nothing happened!” Drake protested, trying to push back against the sandy blonde haired heir to the throne to no avail. His nostrils flared as his eyes flickered a darker green with rage, “I don’t give a fuck! You were in her bed!” he spat, “Clothes or no clothes... I’ve seen how you look at her!” Leo’s jealously filled his whole being as a blush began to form across Drake’s cheeks. Isabella never needed a bodyguard when the Cordonian Crown Prince was around. Leo was right, he did have a crush but knew it was better not to go up against his future King nor what would a girl like her, see in a commoner like him?

Leo angrily let him go, sniffing as his nose scrunched up, “You love her...” his brow raised in question, “...don’t you...” Drake shook his head in protest, awkwardly laughing, “I-I... don’t know what you’re...” The Prince gently rubbed his chiselled jawline, unimpressed he continued, “Don’t lie to me Walker...” his glare felt like it was burning into Drake’s soul and the Texan’s silence was deafening. “I thought as much...” Leo grunted as Drake ran his fingers through his shaggy dark brown hair, “Leo...” he sighed, “I’m sorry...” That was all the affirmation that Leo needed as his eyes slowly softened but not enough to quell Drake’s racing heart. The Cordonian Crown Prince’s lips began to curl upwards as he stepped forward, his 6’4” broad muscular frame looked as if it towered over Drake’s 6”1’ body. “You know...” he began to grin with a mischievous glint in his eye, Leo’s fingers carefully nestled around the first button he met on Drake’s denim shirt. Knowing the Texan was bisexual, it could work in his favour. Drake felt his chest heave as Leo’s sea green eyes met his. He had never been as up close, picking out the different shades of green and blue. The future King’s voice was firm and authoritative as he spoke, “I’m sure we can come to an arrangement...” before he placed his lips gently upon Drake’s. A soft kiss that left Drake feeling almost breathless. Unexpected, but left him wanting more.

A few weeks had passed as Leo planned his little arrangement but there were rules. Rules that were not to be broken. Isabella felt a little strange but Leo’s lips against her neck calmed her. “It’s ok kitten...” he whispered into her ear, soothing her anxiety. His fingers tilted her chin towards him with a grin, “I promise you’re going to enjoy this...” before his lips met hers, crashing into one another as their naked bodies twisted around each other, whilst Drake sat in the corner watching carefully. He had only ever heard them, their seductive moaning permeated through the walls but tonight, he was more involved than he ever thought he would be. Wincing slightly, Drake adjusted his obvious erection before he slowly began to stroke his already rock hard erection. He’d always wondered what it would have been like to have been with the petite brunette. Would she be sweet? Demanding? He didn’t know, but soon he would find out. As a gentle moan escaped his lips, Leo looked back at him with a knowing smile. “Walker...” he demanded, “Get over here!”

Leo’s glare stirred something inside him, watching the sandy blonde haired Cordonian’s eyes narrow as he barked, “Kneel down!” Dropping to his knees, Drake waited as Leo continued with a smirk as he kissed the crown of Isabella’s head, “That jaw of yours better be as strong as it looks...” The Crown Prince’s hands gently caressed the petite brunette’s delicate neck but his sea green piercing eyes never left Drake. “You ready to taste her?” Leo quipped as Drake blushed, “Don’t keep her waiting...” Drake’s hands shook as he reached out, placing his hands around her soft, supple olive sun kissed skin, pulling her forward towards him. The Texan felt his heart beginning to race as he lowered his head between her legs. Taking a deep breath, Drake breathed in her scent and couldn’t believe what was happening right now. Impatiently, he flattened his tongue as he wrapped his arms tightly around her thighs so she couldn’t move. Tasting her, she was like honey and as his tongue circled around her sensitive clit, Isabella tightened her grip onto the bedsheets. Leo tilted the Crown Princess’ chin upwards to face him before their lips met.

Their tongues massaged one another as she moaned into his mouth giving Leo a chuckle, “You enjoying yourself Kitten?” listening to her breath hitching. Leo’s lips followed down her cheek, neck, across her décolletage until he took her nipple into his mouth causing her to gasp. “Don’t you dare cum...” he teased as his lips curled upwards as he looked up at her, “Not until I let you beautiful...” Isabella’s dark chocolate brown eyes rolled back into her head as she bit down onto her plump lower lip before she leaned down, eagerly taking Leo’s already throbbing hard cock into her mouth. “That’s it kitten...” Leo grunted as his fingers tangled through her hair, “... take it all...” Drake raised his head, his eyes widening as he saw Leo’s thick, uncut cock up close. In his head, he compared the brothers knowing that Leo had more girth than Liam and his cock twitched with excitement at the thought. Leo pulled back, the tip of his shaft popped like a cherry between Isabella’s lips. “I’ve got an idea...” he mischievously grinned, pulling Isabella back. Drake fell forward until he realised Leo pulled the Crown Princess back.

Leo beckoned Drake onto the bed and positioned Isabella over him bent over. Leo held onto her hips, positioning his cock against her wet, aching entrance. Drake’s hands massages her ass cheeks, separating them slightly as he watched Leo’s cock stretching her pussy with each thrust. Drake’s tongue once again flattened, lapping at the Crown Princess’ folds and against Leo’s cock. Leo’s hips bucked back and forth, thrusting between Isabella’s wet core and Drake’s mouth, “You like that Walker?” Leo hissed as he greedily sucked on Leo’s length, tasting the mixture between him and Isabella. Leo could feel himself edging closer. Wrapping Isabella’s hair around his hand, he pulled her back, kissing down her neck as he whispered to her softly, “I love you...” before pressing his length against her once more, lowering her back into position. Leo began to thrust into Isabella again causing her to cry out. “Cum for me beautiful...” Leo groaned feeling Isabella’s walls tightening around him. Between Leo fucking her and Drake sucking in her clit, her body began to shake. “Leo!!!” She moaned loudly as his grip around her tightened even more as every wave of pleasure filled her senses.

Leo slowly pulled out, he didn’t want to cum just yet and immediately reached to the beside table opening a condom. He rolled it slowly onto his erect length but commanded both Isabella and Drake to stay where they were. Leo stood at the end of the bed propping Drake’s legs up, pressing against his hole. Spitting roughly, Leo began to push forward. “Eat her cum...” the Crown Prince grunted as he clenched his jaw, slowly entering the Texan. Drake moaned loudly and turned his head to the left, rather than take direction which pissed Leo off. Reaching out, Leo squeezed his balls hard and thrust forward forcefully, “Don’t fuck with me Walker!” Leo commanded, “Do as your fucking told!” Drake’s chest heaved as he cried out and until he did as he was told, Leo kept squeezing. Groaning, Drake began to lap up the Princess’ cum as the Crown Prince fucked him hard, stretching him more than Liam ever had. Drake’s cock ached to be touched but Leo slapped his hand away, it was against the rules. Drake had to learn, he couldn’t touch what didn’t belong to him and right now, his own body didn’t belong to him, it belonged to Leo.

Drake began to cry out as he came, his warm seed spraying over his stomach. Leo’s lips curled upwards as he winked at Isabella pulling out slowly from Drake “Kitten... go run a bath and I’m going to be with you in five minutes...” biting down onto her lower lip, Isabella dutifully did as she was told and when the door closed, Drake sat up. Leo removed his condom before his fingers trailed through Drake’s hair, pulling him closer to his cock, “Open...” he commanded and Drake listened without question. Leo pushed his cock as far into Drake’s throat as he could, pulling back only to stop him gagging. The Crown Prince pulled on the Texan’s hair roughly with his jaw clenched, “Never.. ever...” Leo grunted at him angrily, fucking his throat, “Touch something that doesn’t belong to you...” he pulled Drake’s head back roughly in order to look up at him, and with a growl Leo came hard down Drake’s throat “She’s mine!” The Texan sat back slowly as Leo let go of his hair. He felt so angry for being used and having Isabella dangled in front of him but he also felt like he wanted more. Leo raised his brow with a smirk, “You’d better run off to Liam before he wonders where you are...” as Drake got dressed, Leo made his way towards his ensuite, “There’s my girl... You were so good kitten...” he purred to the petite brunette before he closed the door behind him. Drake never thought anything of it before, but Leo’s dominance ignited something within him. Hearing him call Isabella a good kitten... what would he have called him if he had the Crown Prince to himself?

#cfwc kinktober #choices #leo x isabella #Leo x Isabella x drake #the royal romance #playchoices #prince leo #choices fanfiction #choices the royal romance #playchoices fanfiction #queen isabella #royal romance au #n*fw #🍋

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adelheidvonschicksal · 5 years

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Voracious | Todoroki x F!Dragon!Reader

So may I please have an nsfw todoroki/dragon!reader in a fantasy au where they’ve known each other for quite a while and then for the first time, he sees her enter her heat, and using with what he’s learned abt dragons he takes “care” of her.

Todoroki’s breath fogs in front of him as he views the fall of tiny fluttering flakes of snow. The magisters had predicted that this winter would be early and heavy. As the city prepares, he can’t help but worry for people like you, who live without a heated home or even the bare essentials. Education tells him you have the means to keep yourself warm but for how long? Dragons had to get cold too after all. Probably. He’d have to ask.

Todoroki decides to gather steal blankets and cured meats from the castle in case you needed them before sneaking out and traversing the dense forest on the edge of the city. Upon arriving at your cave, he spots you gathering the last of fallen autumn leaves on the ground into large piles. It is something he never saw you do before but your dead focus on the task, to the point you didn’t even acknowledge him, awakens his curiously.

“What are you doing?”

“Building a nest,” you reply and look to him. Observant by nature, he sees you eying the sheets in his hand then the material you had gathered. Todoroki keeps his thoughts to himself when it comes to the unconventional methods you had of creating warmth. If only he could invite you back to the castle; but with his dad there, he couldn’t risk you being turned into a war idol. “Can I borrow that?”

“Yes. I brought it for you and some other…” he tries to explain but you promptly snatch the blanket, spread it out, and start piling leaves onto it in a makeshift basket, leaving him confused but strangely motivated by your determination, and he kneels down to help.

“This will work,” you mutter happily to yourself. “Keep the egg nice and cushioned.”

“Your egg?”

“Yes. I need to keep it safe.”

Todoroki pauses, the admission causing him to grimace as he feels something deep inside him crack and compress into this empty feeling above his heart. Despite the two of you promising to share everything with each other, he had not one memory of you ever mentioning a lover. He couldn’t figure out why it would bother him so much to find out, but it did. Barely able to stop this bitterness from broadcasting itself through his voice, he asks, “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Lucky guy?” you repeat, puzzled. Then, you click your tongue as you finally understand. “Oh, I don’t have a partner,” you answer, and the heaviness that was making it hard for him to breathe began to lighten little by little. Now, it was replaced with confusion, which you easily picked up on. “I mean there will be once mating season starts. I’m preparing in advance for the unpredictable. As for you, I’d advise making yourself scarce for a few weeks when that happens unless you want to be mistaken as rival and challenged.”

“They could try,” he mumbles, thinking he could easily take out any dragon that wanted to mount you if he used his ice magic. It worked on you well enough the first time you met after you thought his horse would make a good dinner.

“Good. You can weed out the weaklings for me.”

Todoroki smacks his lips, the tightness from before slowly returning as he thought about the prospects of you having a child with someone soon. Even with your casual almost excited flare, he quickly realizes that it would be unlikely that you would know your mate beforehand while he often considered running away at the prospects of being placed into an arrange marriage with another person, let alone bare a child with them. “How do you deal with it?”

“Deal with what?”

“Mating season,” he explains as he twists and hauls the blanket full of leaves over his shoulders, slowly walking back to your den with you. “You don’t usually know your mates or if you’d like them. Doesn’t it ever bother you?”

Faster than he could ever expect, you answer, “No.”

Stopping in his tracks, Todoroki scowls at you. Sensing his unease, you stop too, tilting your head at him curiously as he scrunches his face. “No?”

“What?”

“How could it not bother you? What if…you didn’t want to mate with them or if…you liked someone else or someone liked you?”

You shrug. “I don’t understand why that would matter, whoever is stronger would be my mate.”

“That easily?”

“Yes. I’m not sure what you do not understand—Oh,” you gasp. “I forgot it’s different for you. You humans tend to get really attached to your mates. It always amazes me that your species manages to survive that way.”

Todoroki scoffs. “Since when is it a crime to want to be with someone who actually cares about you?”

“It’s not. It’s just unnecessary in the grand scheme of the world to care about that sort of thing especially if it creates a burden to do so.”

“Does that mean you think our relationship is unnecessary?” he demands, the hurt final breaking through as he clenches his fist at his side.

“You have to admit it’s not conventional.”

“But, I’m convenient for you.”

“Yes, but I do like being your friend as well,” you answer honestly, not one to notice your own bluntness even for the sake of someone else’s feelings. “Look. Our world is harder than yours, so we owe to our children to give them the best odds of surviving that world. I don’t expect that as a human you’d understand that, but that’s the way it is.”

Unsatisfied with the answer, he throws down the makeshift carrier and glares at you. “You’re right. I wouldn’t get it,” he replies, storming away from you and returning to the castle.

The next few days, he spent sulking, agonizing over the fact that your relationship could have been one only born from convenience. Though, there were times he thinks that you enjoyed his company. Shouto could only think of a few times he was happier than when he was with you, and now he was more miserable than ever now that he had fought with one of the only people he had considered a real friend, something he had hoped for so long when he was alone in the castle for so many years.

It took longer than he expected for him to realize the reason he got frustrated wasn’t because of his anger at you. He didn’t blame you for following your natural instincts or your response. He understood that humans did live differently. Rather, he was jealous because you didn’t think to choose him because no matter how close you were, he was still sadly a weak human in your eyes.

Deciding to swallow his pride, Todoroki once again snuck out the castle late one night to find you and apologize. However, he wasn’t expecting to catch you huddled over yourself in a fetal position, your tail curved between beautiful strong legs when he arrived. In a few seconds, he registers what you’re doing as your tail slides to and fro. Your chest heaves, each desperate pant causing a puff of smoke to leave your mouth, the same as him when he gets too cold and the water in his breath condenses. Those short strokes turn into sporadic thrusts across your naked body, and he flushes as you whine. The sound was so gentle and sweet, the soft little purrs becoming the cutest thing in his memories about you.

Eventually, he decides to give you privacy before you catch him and decide to show him the opposite of your cute side. Slowly, he backs away, and he almost makes it scot-free until he steps on a buried branch. He turns to face your direction as soon as it snaps. Your eyes find him faster than he expects from such a light crunch.

You stand, walking his way, and he gulps, trying not to get distractive by the beautiful bounce of your breasts (as he can finally confirm that you do get cold if the swell, stiff peak of your nipples were anything to go by) and the swing of your hips as you sway towards him. As you get into speaking distance, he readies himself for the lashing you were bound to give him but instead, you lunge.

Hitting the ground, the air is instantly knocked out his lungs. Todoroki grunts, closing his eyes in pain as his head throbs. Slowly regaining himself, he opens his eyes to looks up at you. Glossy eyes meet his back before your tongue slides across your lips, plump and bruised from your own biting, before pulling back in over pointed teeth. The unusual display fills him with a sense of panic and fear he’s never experienced. Shouto never noticed how strong you were until he was pinned to the frozen ground of the forest floor. Pinned underneath your raw strength and the heaviness of your entire body, tail and all, he has time to briefly remember his sister once asked if he thought you were dangerous. He answered, “to livestock maybe”, but that’s how he felt right now, like a piece of livestock.

You lean down over him. Todoroki shudders under the flurries of bites that array his skin in shades of sangria. It was as if you were trying to devour him as you hungrily bite and suck marks into his ivory skin, leaving rings of teeth marks along his neck. He whimpers in both pain and arousal. He reaches up for anywhere to hold you. Landing on your shoulders, he holds you back, but being touched made you rumble lowly, almost reminiscent of a purr. His heart speeds up as if it hadn’t already been racing a marathon. He groans as you shift again and sink your teeth deeper, breaking his flesh. The shock causes him to react with a rush of cold that rivaled your fire element, and you snap away with a yelp.

“What’s wrong with you! Why would you do that?”

“Me? What’s wrong with you?” he huffs, shocking you as you see him panting underneath you, his chest rising and falling hard.

“Sorry…I thought you were someone else.”

“Someone else?”

“Yeah, you see, I’m still—”

“In heat.” he finishes, and you nod. “Still?”

“I haven’t had much luck in the mating department.” Pulling away, you return to a seated position of squeezing your tail between your legs to fight off the urge to pounce him once again. “Never mind. Why are you here anyway?”

Todoroki scowls, bowing his head as he shovels his fingers through the dirt and snow. “About that. I wanted to apologize,” he starts, but his explanation goes unheard as your lustful sighs catch his attention. He blushes as you start to grind your tail against you again like he wasn’t even there. Shouto tries to look away, but he couldn’t keep from glancing over as he overhears your blissful sighs. You didn’t look like you were listening to a word he was saying anymore. “Uhm, (Name)?” Slowly, you fix your gaze on him, almost making him choke on his spit. “If you’re that desperate I could stand in as your mate if you want me to.”

Your eyes flit up and down, studying him as if you were thinking about it. Thoughtfully, you chew on your inner cheek. Then, you say what he feared. “But you’re a human.”

Ignoring the sting of your first rejection, Todoroki scoots a little closer to you, his hand steady as he reached out to touch you. You flinch, making him gulp as you looked at his hand on your shoulder. “I know I’m not exactly what you wanted, but you just need stimulation, right? I’m sure we’d line up.”

“Are you sure? My species can get pretty sexually aggressive during mating season,” you warn – like he hadn’t realized that when you first mounted him.

Confidentially, Todoroki replies, “I can be aggressive.”

To his surprise, you snort, laughing lowly at him, and he scowls, knowing he might be rejected but he wasn’t expecting for you to outright laugh at him. You stop giggling and kneel forward onto your knees. He blushes as your face comes to his, so close that he could feel the natural heat on your breath. “You’re a cute little human,” you say and shove your lips against his. Shouto goes back on his back again from the force while you happily take up the space between his legs.

Shouto busies himself with what he wants most: exploring your body. He slowly circles his fingers at your waist, mesmerized in the way your body went from the smooth warmth of skin to the leathery texture of your sunburst scales. But you need more than those light strokes. Taking in his fresh scent, you tremble with excitement at the smell of heat rolling off his left side.

Roughly, you move your lips against his, not holding back just as you had warned. Your teeth pulled on his bottom lip. It leaves light splits in his skin, which you happily lick. Following your lead, his best idea was to meet you with equal force or else be torn with your affection.

With a growl, Shouto bites down on your tongue. He hears that sound again, that purring, and decides to suck on the warm appendage in his mouth. Your hands come to his neck, where on a dragon there would be scales to protect him from your claws dragging along his skin. The first line of blood spring from him; and almost apologetically, your tongue laps at his wound.

“Shouto,” you mumble softly.

“I’m all right.” He uses the opportunity to roll you over and gain some small semblance of control. You could turn the tables back on him again any moment but when his hips rock against yours, you buck and moan at the intense yearning it unleashed in you.

You reach up, pulling at his shirt while your mouth still voraciously attacks his. You try to force his buttons off until impatience caused you to rip at his coat and nails draw into his skin. “Slow down,” he hisses, second-guessing his decision as your mouth wetly covers the patch of exposed skin. You want more, need him more, so you tattered his clothes to reveal more smooth skin.

When you pierced through, he instinctively lit your skin with ice. You whimper and squirm away, your breathing heavy.

Todoroki saw the perfect way to even the playing field and slid his fingers over your stomach again. “Claws off or I’m going to punish you again.”

“Shouto, don’t play with me. I’m not in the mood,” you huff, and he hums in response.

“You look like you’re in the mood to me. You look like you were about to cum right there earlier,” Shouto teases, unfurling your tail to slide his fingers between your lower lips, and he sucks in air as your wetness immediately overtakes his thick fingers, trailing behind his touch in thick, clear strands. “Absolutely amazing,” he whispers, groaning to himself. “You look good enough to eat.”

“You’re going to eat me?” you ask, squirming as he kisses down your stomach, gentle lips brushing your smooth skin. Why would he even kiss you there? He begins to kiss your thighs, making you shudder as the cold air hits the wet spots he left on your flesh.

Shouto kisses the base of your tail, drawing his tongue over the edges of your scales to lick away the flood of fluids, and you gasp as the rough texture of the top of his pink tongue sinks between them to the sensitive flesh in between. Todoroki chuckles, mismatch eyes watching the erotic lift of your hips, knowing that he was the one to make you buck. Shouto glides his fingers into you, watching the erotic display of his fingertips breaking the barrier of thick cum and sinking into your slick folds. The soft croon you release makes him shudder, a bolt of excitement running through him. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

“What are you—oh, OH,” you moan, lolling your head back as Shouto covers you with his mouth, his tongue scooping up your taste, and his nose inhaling your scent. He glances up, watching your eyes, clouded and lust-filled, on him, observing his every move with awe and apprehension that leads him to believe no one ever taught you much in the way of foreplay.

“Your taste is unreal,” he comments, smirking as your chest heaves and your breathing becomes heavy with smoke again. You whimper as he grabs the top of your legs, snatching you closer, his nails snagging against your scales and making them prickle. “I wish I’d known it was this easy to make you mewl like a kitten,” he smirks then slides his pink muscle between your lips.

“Don’t call me a kitten,” you growl, moaning as his back arching as his warm lips suck around your clit. Knowing it wouldn’t hurt you, his left palm lights with flame as it drags down your skin, making you cry out as the fire tingles on your skin and warms every nerve.

“This is my kingdom. I’ll call you as I please,” he states, dotting frost across your skin to make you whine louder. Warm thighs close around his had as you shiver, smothering him in the smooth heat. Shouto thinks it’d be better to feel them around his waist as he drives into you. Your hands come down, gripping his hair and pulling it in tight fists as you fight to hold back your moaning. Todoroki hisses and nips at your clit in retaliation to the pain he felt pulling at his head.

Yelping, you begin to grumble as you feel your orgasm building up before the two of you could properly mate. You felt embarrassed to actually be feeling weak from this, much like a mewling pet as his tongue skillfully dips and swirls inside of you. You tremble as it overtakes you in a flash, draining down your legs as your pussy pounds with the strength of your own orgasm.

“You did such a good job, kitten,” he says, licking his lips clean of your fluids before sliding his tongue over each finger one by one. You groan, finding him attractive despite the obvious differences between the two of you.

“I said don’t call me that,” you demand still panting heavily.

“You’re not the one in charge.” You ‘hmph’. He smiles mockingly, threatening to light you with chills again until his fingers ghost over your stiffened nipples then tweaks them, one cold and one hot, each reaction completely opposite but both making you whimper. “If you tell me you want me nicely, I’ll give it to you.”

“Cocky bastard. Take your clothes off already.”

“Don’t curse,” he reminds you. “Or do you want me to punish you again?”

Growling, you use your strength to tackle him over and pin him by the wrist. You lean close, forehead touching his as you glint your teeth at him. “I think you’re forgetting who’s stronger here, human.”

“Are you so sure about that?” he says, jerking against you, and you push him down harder.

“Yes.”

You bring your claws down to rip through the rest of his coat, leaving tattered lines that reveal what royal genes and training crafted. He shivers as you leave rippling muscles and supple pink nipples exposed to the elements. “Oh, don’t fret, I’ll keep you warm,” you tease as he flushes from the bitter bite of wind stinging his cheeks.

“You should worry about yourself,” he warns, and your leg chills with his power.

“You can make it come out your feet?” you ask between chattering teeth. He fights back against you – your disadvantage that you can’t fire back at him due to fear of burning him to a crisp as you rolled together for dominance.

He turned over on you. “I’ll use my fire later if you’re good, how about that?” he asks, sparking flames to flicker over your skin, and you whine, gasping as it tickles through your body.

“Damn it…” you moan as the heat overtakes you, right after you had just come. “T-That feels good.”

He chuckles. “I’ll make you feel even better,” he answers, undoing his pants, and you smile at him as they come loose, gasping in amazement.

“Ah, it’s so cute.”

“Cute?” he scoffs.

“Yes, it’s so small,” you coo, giggling at him as you lean up to curiously squeeze, making his cheeks redden. “Don’t you have a knot?”

He narrows his eyes at you, irritated at your remarks. “It’s normal-sized. Bigger, actually.”

Your mouth widens in surprise. “Oh, human men get smaller, even cuter.”

“Don’t call it that,” he hisses, pushing his cock into you, slipping into your heat center with a rough thrust.

You gasp, choking as you inhale roughly. “Ah, you’re so sudden, I’m still sensitive.”

“But it feels good, so why don’t you be a good girl and cum on my cock for me, kitten,” he teases, squeezing and kneading your jiggling breasts as he rocks his hips into yours, pushing deeper and deeper. Growling, you wrap your legs around his waist, bucking upwards.

You pull him flushed against you, moaning when his warm body hugged against your bare skin. Burying your head against his neck, you sink your teeth in to bury your groaning at the pace of his cock repeatedly stretching and stroking your core while he pants, low and husky, into your ear.

Your legs spasm with the rush of fluid out of your core, and he curses so softly when you clenched around his throbbing cock, urging him to release with you until you were both satisfied with your union.

“That was…better than expected,” you admitted, relaxing as your aching subsided. With one strong push, you lift him off of you to get some space to catch your breath.

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know,” you answer with a coy grin that makes him scoff. You laugh in return before acknowledging the shivering the cold around you induced now that you were finally able to cool down from your heat a little. Shouto takes it as an opportunity to pull you against him again.

You readily curl up against him for the time, knowing it’d be impossible for him to shack up with you until the end of mating season like a normal mate. You purr softly and lick his cheek affectionately.

“Uhm, (Name),” he begins, flushing from the affection of your grooming. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, but do you remember how you said humans get attached to their mates? That’s because we humans tend to mate for life.”

You stop. “You do?”

“Yes, we do,” he says, and you wrinkle your nose in suspicion.

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, we do.”

“I never heard that.”

“I’m the human here, so I think I get the final say on what’s our culture.”

“You’re a strange one,” you answer, “But, I don’t mind just for mating season,” you agree, kissing him again as you push him down into the snow. “Let’s get one more in for today,” you demand.

Todoroki sits on the garden bench, restlessly staring at the castle wall as the snow flurries drift down. Sighing, he wonders what you’ve been up to over the last few weeks he’s been on house arrest under the eyes of the knights ever since his father didn’t take well to him coming home in the early morning with new wounds each time.

He wonders if you would let him stay with you if he was to run away this time, but somewhere in his mind, he doubts that would work out. It would only put you both in danger.

Then, he hears a voice, softly sweet yet somehow confidently demanding, and he looks up from the ground to see you standing before him.

“(Name), what are you doing here?” he whispers harshly, reaching out to pull you down but you step away before he gets the chance.

“I needed to see you.”

“But, why, how did you get in? There are guards everywhere.”

“You mean those clinky ones out front? I don’t think they’ll be getting up any time soon.”

“You can’t go attacking the knights.”

“It’s not like I killed them. Calm down,” you demand with a huff before reaching around to pull out something from an old satchel he’d give you. “Here.”

You hold at an oval object the size of a small melon and carefully place it into his arms. Shouto holds it up, running his fingers over the jagged horizontal lines of red and blue that decorate the object.

“What is this?” he questions curiously.

“It’s your egg.”

Shouto jumps, clutching on tighter to stop from dropping it in surprise. He was completely unaware that the two of you could have kids. He’s never read or heard anything about half-breeds before, and he wasn’t planning on becoming the first case of such either. “My egg, like you gave birth to this sort of egg?”

“Duh, what did you think mating season is for?” you remind him sarcastically as he panics. “I need you to watch it for me so I can go hunting.”

Todoroki gulps, unsure where to even begin taking care of this sort of thing, let alone how to hide it in the castle. “Uhm…but aren’t women supposed to watch their egg?”

“Humans share the responsibility for their children, right?”

“Sort of.”

“Well, if you want to stick around and follow this mating for life thing, then you should help take responsibility for your egg,” you explain. “It would be much safer and cozier in your fancy house, don’t you agree?”

“But, how should I—”

“Just keep it warm and don’t break it for god’s sake,” you answer, make your way towards the wall, and leap to the top of it. “In the meantime, I’m going to go catch dinner.”

“Wait,” he orders but you already drop to the other side, leaving him and his future half-breed offspring alone together. He sighs and glances down at his egg. His heart jumps when he feels a slight jerk under the protective shell, making him smile softly, and he cradles the egg towards his left side to keep warmer. “Let’s keep you safe for when she gets back,” he promises already thinking of a spot he can keep his child hidden.

Todoroki supposes the only thing left to do was to start thinking of names.

#todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #adelssmut #notsfw #todomochi #repost later

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