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#something thrust upon someone else and now he has to carry when he didn’t do anything to deserve it
ambriel-angstwitch · 7 months
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I Carrion (Icarian) through the lens of Merthur
If the wind turns If I hit a squall Allow the ground to find its brutal way to me
So this is the intro of the song which starts out by introducing the destructive nature of the path of Icarus. Which Merlin himself parallels. Icarus is a lesson that the constant desire for more will lead to one’s destruction. Merlin’s desire to save Arthur was what doomed him in the end
I feel lighter than I have in so much time I've crossed the borderline of weightless One deep breath out from the sky
This describes the feeling of flying from Icarus but also the feeling of a relationship. It demonstrates both as all consuming feelings. Merlin and Arthur’s love for eachother alleviates some of the weight that they both carry.
I've reached a rarer height now That I can confirm All our weight is just a burden Offered to us by the world
Merlin and Arthur are both heavily burdened by destiny. Arthur is expected to be a great king and Merlin is expected to help him become one by guiding and protecting him. So in a sense their weight isn’t truly their own rather something that was thrust upon them. This lyric is also likely a reference to Atlas who unwillingly holds up the sky but it is a burden that he cannot escape without destroying the world.
And though I burn how could I fall?
This line speaks to the naivety of Icarus and Merlin. They realize that there is a burning, there is something dangerous but fail to acknowledge that it will cause them to fail. Merlin in the early seasons was far too trusting, he fell for peoples tricks and he didn’t want to believe people would turn bad.
When I am lifted by every word you say to me
This is the second line in the pre chorus which speaks to the power of the love that the narrator (in this case Merlin) and his lover (Arthur) have for each other in order to support the fact that they will not fall. Merlin feels as though they can soar and do anything through/for their love. Then with Arthur Merlin raises his spirit. It’s worth noting that Merlin is Arthurs number one encourager and advisor. He values his words above pretty much anyone else’s. But since this is an Icarus metaphor being lifted also has a negative connotation. Being high up is what leads to their destruction so while it feels good at the time it will eventually turn sour. This speaks of being willing to take risks, they are willing to risk the fall to fly with eachother
If anything could fall at all. It's the world that falls away from me
Speaks of the ignorance of Icurus and the denial of Merlin. Both don’t believe or don’t want to believe that they can fall. Rather believing or willing anything else to fail instead.
You have me floating like a feather on the sea
In the story of Icarus he dies by hitting the sea this is instead rather peaceful imagery implying that he at least believes that his love will stop him from coming to harm. This is a lot like how Merlin consistently saves Arthur from things that would kill him.
While you're as heavy as the world That you hold your hands beneath
This is a large contrast to the previous line. This shows the perspective of the other lover (Merlin) who carries the burden. While Arthur is saved from harm Merlin has to fight while gaining no respite or recognition. (Just like Atlas who is condemned to hold the sky)
Once I had wondered what was holding up the ground. I can see that all along, love it was you all the way down
Arthur must sometimes wonder how they beat unbeatable odds whether that be randomly fallen bandits or creatures that can only be defeated by magic, and of course he must wonder who sent the light to him in the cave. But once magic is revealed he realizes that it was Merlin all along
Leave it now I am sky-bound If you need to, darling Lean your weight to me
With this revelation he can finally offer Merlin someone to lean on, a respite. He doesn’t need to carry the burden of the entire world all alone anymore.
We'll float away But if we fall, I only pray Don't fall away from me
Eventually it comes to a point where accept any danger their love might cause as long as they stay together. They can fall as long as they stay together
I do not have wings, love I never will Soaring over a world you are carrying If these heights should bring my fall Let me be your own
Merlin’s focus has always been Arthur his love his companionship and his safety to the point where he does not care whether or not he meets his own demise. Where Icarus disregards his safety to see the heavens so does Merlin for love as he prioritizes Arthur’s over his own over and over again
Icarian carrion
Icarian is to share characteristics with Icarus most often excessive ambition. Which Merlin shows by trying to bring back magic but save Arthur though those were both prophesied. Carrion is dead putrifying flesh which shows that though it is hinted throughout the song that lobe might be able to save Arthur still dies (and so does Icarus)
If the wind turns If I hit a squall Allow the ground to find its brutal way to me. If I should fall on that day I only pray, don’t fall away from me
The song ends with a repeat of lyrics that have already been sung. They all emphasize some main points of the song though which is the desperation for love and the inevitable demise
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donutloverxo · 3 years
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Good little wife
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Note - Inspired by a request I got long ago and written for the happy hoelidays challenge I'm cohosting with my sister hoes @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 . I used the prompts two idiots in love + Character A loves Christmas. Character B hates it. A melts Bs cold heart Dividers by @firefly-graphics .
Summary - Your husband makes up to you for being a Grinch and a meanie to you throughout your marriage.
Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), dub con, older man/younger woman, arranged marrige, leaking nudes, daddy kink, blood play, virginity/innocence kink, loss of virginity, virgin reader, painful sex, misogyny, mob activities.
Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader
Word count - 8k
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“You look beautiful, cookie,” your mother raved, pressing her lips to your cheek, “He’s a lucky man.”
You only hummed. Staring at your refection, seeing someone you didn’t even recognize.
Your white lace dress somewhat conservative, still really pretty, something you would’ve been more than happy to wear if your circumstances weren’t so depressing.
You almost let out a sardonic laugh, you didn’t get to choose your husband but at least you chose your wedding gown.
“It’ll be alright,” your mother picked at your hair, noticing your evident sadness, you’ve never been one to hide how you feel anyway, “you’ll learn to love him. He’s very successful.”
“I always thought ‘money doesn’t make you happy',” something she had said to you so many times over the years.
“That’s just a fairy tale. People fall out of love, run out of things to talk about, men cheat, in the end all that’s left is how well he can provide for you,” she stated.
You checked your phone as soon as you could, going through your messages to see if your boyfriend, or rather your now ex boyfriend, had sent you anything. You still naively hoped that he'd come on a white horse and sweep you off and away, so you wouldn’t have to marry someone you’ve else. So you wouldn’t have to give up your freedom forever and just be someone’s wife.
But you saw nothing. He hadn’t talked to you, not since your father found out about you both. Since he was from a family your daddy hated with a passion, and you were supposed to as well, your father made you cut all times with him. Locked you in your room in a timeout till you came to your senses.
After over three weeks he came to you, telling you how he was ready to forgive you and move on. You were so happy. For a minute you let yourself believe that this was your father, he loved you unconditionally, of course he'd set aside whatever vain feud he has and let you be with your love.
All your hopes were crushed when he told you he had selected a husband for you whom you have to marry in just a month. That you had to drop out of college since you wouldn’t need that degree anyway.
You always did believe that he had your best interests at heart, you wanted to believe it this time as well, but you just couldn’t.
Cringing inwardly when he kissed your cheeks, “You look beautiful,” he told you, cold eyes staring at you, “Don’t try anything stupid. Andrew is a good man,” he looped your arm in with his.
“He’s more than a decade older than me,” you argued, biting your lip as he squeezed your arm to warn you.
You slapped a fake smile on your face, walking down, one step after another as everyone looked at you in awe.
This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life...
But when you looked at Andy waiting for you at the alter you felt nothing but grave anxiety which made your teeth clatter, his palms joined together at his front, he did look handsome with his tux and neat beard. You have had a crush on him for a long time but you’ve never even had a real conversation with him, you didn’t know him. No one did.
Your heart filled with dread as your father handed you over to Andy, patting him on his shoulder, “Take good care of her.”
“I will,” Andy smiled.
You weren’t really there, maybe your body was but your soul had left you to maybe make the whole ordeal less painful. The priest read the vows asking you if you were ready to take him as your husband forever.
“I do,” since you had no other choice.
“I do,” he repeated.
You felt a shiver jolt up your spine when his fingers grazed yours, putting the thin silver band on your finger before lifting your veil to press his lips to yours, giving you a chaste, barely there kiss as everyone cheered you on.
The rest of the evening was a blur, you could barely register what had happened, everyone sweetly calling you ‘Mrs Barber’ only making you more nervous.
Andy however, was cordial and formal as always, shaking their hands and thanking them.
Since you hadn’t really taken any dance lessons you were left to simply wing it with him at your first dance. With your clammy hands in his you tried to match his pace as he lead you, bumping into his feet with yours more than once.
He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Relax,” making you shudder.
You looked up at him, he had barely said two words to you but your grandmother often said ‘Eyes are the windows to the soul’.
And Andy’s eyes were so... kind, like a blue ocean you could happily drown in. He almost looked at you as if he were fond of you.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad...
You didn’t really expect Andy to carry you over the threshold, that was just a silly little fantasy you’ve always had and you knew he’d never indulge you in it but he didn’t even hold the door open for you.
You looked around his condo, so grey and boring, looked like it was out of a magazine catalogue, you felt so out of place there.
Naturally, you followed him to his bedroom, watching him wake his coat off, followed by his cuffs as he rolled his sleeves up.
You went over what you wanted to say in your head, how do you tell your husband that you’re a virgin, on your wedding night--that was something your grandmother never gave you advice on. You could’ve used her wisdom then.
With your mouth suddenly dry you tried to speak as he poured himself a drink, “Um... I’ve...”
“What?” he looked at you, quirking a brown brow up.
“Nothing,” you shook your head as you took a seat on the edge of the bed. “This is a nice house.”
“You can take the guestroom,” he said bluntly.
“What?”
“You can take the guestroom. I’ve already put all your bags there, you can decorate it however you like but don’t touch anything else.”
“But I...I’ve never heard of husband and wife sleeping in different rooms.”
“That’s true, it is unusual. This is not a normal marriage though, is it?” His tone so frustratingly patronising, as if he was talking to a child.
You’ve never really been appreciated for your mind, women never are--not where you come from, even your love Alex only ever thought of you as a ‘pretty face’. But Andy didn’t need to spell it out for you, “You... don’t want me...” you realised.
He only scoffed. He’d never been one for long term relationships, he had tried but he could never give himself to another person, women often called him emotionally unavailable, his demanding and dangerous job did contribute a lot to that, but more than that it was his unwillingness to change. He was self aware enough to know that but he didn’t need anyone else. He didn’t want to be tied down or to have a nagging immature wife.
“But why...” you wondered. Sure, you weren’t thrilled to marry him, but now you had accepted it and wanted to make the best of your new life. You thought he wanted the same.
“Why would I want you?” he spat. “ You’re nothing but a spoilt rich girl who’s had everything handed to her. Who was ungrateful and stupid enough to fraternize with the enemy.”
You let out a shaky exhale, looking at him with teary eyes, “I loved him...”
“You don’t know the first thing about love,” he rolled his eyes.
“He loved me too! But I’m willing to put that behind me. I made a vow to you.”
“You really don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?” you frowned.
He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery to show you the compromising pictures you had sent to your ex, “He shared that with everyone, it was all just a ploy to humiliate your father.”
You gasped, taking his phone in your trembling hand, your breasts exposed as you shyly looked at the camera. You had flat out refused to send him a nude when he asked for it but then he threatened to break up with you, to go after your best friend, even called you a prude because you hadn’t slept with him. At the moment you felt as if you had no choice but to do it...
“He wouldn’t,” you sobbed.
“And because of your stupidity I had to marry you since no one else would ever want you,” he said. But then regretted it as you just started crying harder. He thought of maybe trying to console you but what would he even say?
He took the phone from you before you could even think of deleting the photos. He used them to pleasure himself almost every night. Maybe he was an idiot, he could have the real thing, yet he was pushing you away, “Go to your room,” he told you which made you sob even moreso.
You looked up at him, begging him for a hug, for some sort of comfort or sympathy but his face was cold and harsh. Finally gathering your wits you went to the other room, ready to cry yourself to sleep.
No matter how beautiful you were, you were still thrusted upon him, you didn’t love him, you never could because you never even had a choice
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“Perfect,” you beamed, setting down the chicken pot pie you had just cooked up.
Your grandmama had always told you that a wife should be a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. So that her man would never stray.
And while you hadn’t had a chance to be a whore for Andy... something that you were looking forward to, you hoped the fresh home cooked meal, the holiday season and decorations you had spent the past few days working on would put him in the mood. To maybe accept you as his wife.
For the past six months you had tried everything, making him breakfast, packing his lunch, offering him massages, even trying to help him with his work but he was always so cold to you.
You feared that this is how it will be forever. He would never love you, not the way you’ve always loved him. Even when he was so cruel towards you.
But you were nothing if not resilient. So you said chuck it and went all out. Decorating your whole house, with a real tree for the past few days while Andy was out on a work trip for thanksgiving. Maybe you could surprise him and he’d realise just how much he lucked out with you.
You even went with a more risqué outfit than you usually would. Your little emerald green skirt with pleats was a bit too short and impractical for the cold winters but you were going to stay inside anyway. It was topped off with a tight burgundy blouse and a push up bra which made your girls look enticing and some red pumps.
With a pumpkin pie for dessert in the oven, your salads done and the gingerbread flavored candles lit up you were good to go.
So you sat on the couch, watching 'A Christmas story' for the hundredth time to kill time till he gets home and to distract your nervous mind.
After ninety minutes the movie was over but Andy still wasn’t home. You tried calling him but it kept going to voicemail.
Frustrated, but determined to follow through with your ‘Seduce Andy Barber’ plan you put on another movie, chewing your lip till it bled as you impatiently waited for him.
Soon it was midnight, your food got cold and the rumbling in your tummy became more prominent so you decide to eat your dinner, put the leftovers in the freezer and cut your losses.
You were almost done with your dishes when your husband coming into the apartment, turning around you saw him hang his coat on the back of the chair and plomp down on it. He groaned, pulling the sleeves of his shirt up to reveal his bulky forearms.
“You’re home,” you said, taking off your apron so he could see your little get up.
He didn’t smile at you like you expected he would, he didn’t say ‘Good job’ like you thought he would. He certainly didn’t look like he wanted to bend you over the dining table and take you then and there. He simply frowned at you. Looking at you as if your mere existence offended him.
“I told you; you were allowed to decorate your room however you liked. Not the whole apartment,” he growled, rubbing a hand over his face.
“What? I did it for you... I thought you would like it, ” you stood there, dumbfounded, shifting from one foot to another, “You don’t like Christmas.” You realised.
“No, I don’t. Christmas isn’t all fun and jolly for everybody. I’ve never had anyone to celebrate it with,” he did you a once over, his pants tightening uncomfortably as he took in your little ensemble.
He had never had a single good Christmas in his whole life. He’d usually spend it either working or drinking. But now, he had you, his good little wife who had gone out of her way to do all this just for him.
He could kiss your red lips then and there, finally do what he’s been wanting to go for the past few months and make love to you, eat the delicious meal you had made him because he was fucking starving.
But then he realized how easily you could be taken away from him. How this was all so fickle.
“Do you want a divorce?” he crossed his hands over his chest, as if daring you to give a wrong answer, “If you do, I’ll give you one right now.”
“I - ” you strutted, you didn’t really know, “Daddy would never let that happen.” To which he scoffed.
Your father would kill you both if this marriage failed. He knew that, why would he still be willing to risk everything?
“Where are you going?” you asked when he got up from the chair.
“To my room, to sleep,” he sighed.
He knew what you would say, he knew you were daddy’s little girl who’d die before disappointing her father, which was solely why you were with him, and yet he let himself fall for you and get hurt.
You tugged on his shirt, ready to beg him to at least eat the meal you made for him but then you frowned, inhaling the feminine perfume from his shirt, mixed with his own Cologne, you took a step back, your eyes brimming with tears as you realised he might’ve been with another woman.
While you were home slaving away to make everything perfect for him.
Your father had a handful of mistresses, a few of them younger than you. Your mother knew, all wives know and look the other way. That was how it was supposed to be. It was how you make marriages last...
And your poor beaten heart could take his coldness towards you, it absolutely could not bear him being with another woman. Your father had always praised him for being loyal, and it was one of the things you loved about him...
“Where were you?” you sniffled to keep the tears at bay.
“I was out working. So I could pay for your shopping sprees.” He spat.
You gasped, “I haven’t gone shopping in months! I only did now for Christmas!”
“That tree better be down by the time I wake up. You can out all that crap in your bedroom if you like. I do not what to see it.” He said gravelly, before slamming his door shut.
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Something was horribly wrong.
Andy came home to an empty, cold house. You weren’t there to greet him like you usually are, in fact you hadn’t been for the past few weeks. He could hear the TV from your room, some kind of musical playing.
He checked the kitchen for some food, you used to make dinner every night, rave about your love for cooking and baking, but now it seemed that you lived on poptarts and McDonald’s.
He knocked on your door, to ask if you wanted some of the alfredo he was cooking up, also to maybe get you to have dinner with him.
Ever since he had married you, he had such a beautiful companion to have dinner with. To watch silly romcoms with, someone who waited for him to come home, called him all worried when he was late, asked him how his day was
It’d break his heart to say good night to you, you’d give him those puppy eyes, fluttering your lashes as if begging him to invite you to bed with him.
He wanted to ask you to come, to feel what it would be like to snuggle up with your soft body, to smell your hair, to finally fuck you, but he’d just go away to sleep in his cold bed with a heavy heart. Making do with his hand as he thought of you, it wouldn’t feel nearly as good as you would but it would have to do.
“Can I come in, honey?” he asked.
Letting himself in when no answer came from you. You were lying on your bed, blankets draped over you, your eyes trained on the television. He looked around your room, he had only been there a couple of times, he had expected to see some kind of winter wonderland since you were such a fan of Christmas.
But it looked just how it usually did... pale pink walls, a queen sized bed, a small closet and a dresser and a vanity. No tree or fairy lights or nut crackers.
He leaned against the door frame. “Did you have dinner?” He wanted to know.
You made some sort of unintelligible noise; which could mean anything. So he asked, “Would you like some pasta? I can’t make it as good as you do but I’ll try.”
“No.” You answered. Still not even looking at him.
“It’s Christmas Eve, do you want to go celebrate with your family?”
You shook your head in response. “No, I think I’ll just stay here.”
He had stolen your brightness and sunshine away, tainting you with his darkness. “Stop it,” he scolded, switching off the TV and standing in front of you to make you listen to him. “Get ready, I’m dropping you off at your fathers. You’re not spending Christmas in bed.”
“What difference does it make?” you huffed.
“Get ready. Right. Now.” He ordered, pulling your blanket away from you.
“No!” you whined. Sitting up, your face heating up with a simmering rage you had harbored for months. “Why do you even care? Do you want to get me out of the house so you could spend Christmas with her?!”
“Who’s her?” he furrowed his brows.
“Your mistress!” you yelled, looking around for something you could hurt him with, you grabbed a hold of your Mrs Bunny, your cute pink stuffie and threw it at his face. “I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not bringing her in to my house!” You said, throwing another stuffie at him which he caught with his hand.
“Honey,” he said, as if he was so disappointed with you, for catching him in his lies and deceit. “I don’t have a mistress. Where would I even find the time for one? All those late nights were spent at the office or in meetings.”
He would be the world’s biggest idiot to get a mistress when he had a wife like you waiting for him at home. A wife he hadn’t even so much as even kissed... given how pouty and tempting your lips looked, he didn’t know how he resisted for so long.
“Don’t call me honey,” you puffed out your cheeks, “And I don’t believe you.”
“Well, what can I do to make you believe me?”
You sighed, laying back down on the bedding, “There’s not much you can do. Except leave me be. I just want to sleep this Christmas away.”
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He had to do something to get your spirits up. And since you has thrown away your old decorations he ran to every store in the town, waiting in the queue for hours, calling in as many favors as he could to get some new ones.
While he wasn’t able to get a real Christmas tree, he got a fake one which was a bit smaller than the one you had put up but not all that bad.
You had decorated the apartment with the traditional red, greens and golden he decided to go with a soft pastel pink theme. Hoping that you would like it and forgive him.
He had gotten you couple of gifts, a little babydoll he saw on the internet, it was pink and sexy, he thought of you the moment he saw it. Ordering it for you but he never really gathered enough courage to ask you to wear it. He wrapped it up for you in some festive paper, tying a ribbon around it.
He decided to get as many gifts for you as he could so the tree wouldn’t look so depressing, a Tiffany’s set, an advent calendar from a make up company he knew you liked, a box of cookies and one of chocolates, a new apron with floral patterns and frilly trimmings, some cozy socks, and a surprise gift he had been saving for you.
Looking around the living room, while it wasn’t as good as what you had done with the place he was still proud of what he could pull off in just a couple of hours.
He called out your name before knocking and entering, switching on your bedside lamp he sat next to you, stroking your hair, “Wake up, angel.”
“Seriously, stop it with the petnames,” you said, your voice groggy from sleep and irritated. Because he had only ever said your name with contempt before.
“I’m not going to stop, honey. You’re my wife, I can call you whatever I like.”
“Whatever,” you mumbled, rubbing your sleep away from your eyes.
“I have a surprise for you.” He smiled at you.
And while he had certainly smiled at you before that, when you had said something funny or silly (which you usually did just to see him smile), this one seemed so much brighter and warm.
“What is it?” you sat up. Still a bit crossed with him but excited to see what surprise he had for you.
“You have to come into the living room for that, and promise to stop being a Grinch,” he said, bopping your nose.
You scoffed incredulously, “I’m being a Grinch?! You were the one who made me take everything down in the first place!”
“I know, honey, and I am sorry for that. Hopefully I can make it up to you.” He winked.
You combed your hair, splashing some water on your face and then following him out to see what he had in mind for you.
You all but gasped at the tree in the middle of your living room, so beautiful, the soft glow of the fairy lights illuminated the room, little festive trinklets all over the room.
He had got you a pink stocking with sparkling silver hearts on it. His was a normal red one with ‘Andy' written with a sharpie or a pen. You giggled at that.
“You like it, honey?” he asked.
You nodded, observing the ornaments on your tree, “I do. Thank you so much, Andy. It’s so beautiful, I don’t think anyone’s ever done something so grand for me.”
Your rave gave him the courage to out his hand over your waist, pulling you into him, “I know this doesn’t make up for everything, but it’s start.”
“Yes! I think... I’d like a fresh start,” you beamed up at him
He excused himself to make some hot chocolate for you both, handing you a mug with little heart shaped marshmallows and sprinkles on top of it. You didn’t even realise how you ended up snuggled up next to him on the couch, Elf playing on the TV which he shockingly had never seen before.
“You know... for someone who hates Christmas so much you did a pretty good job saving it!” you giggled, kissing his bearded cheek.
“Well...” he looked down at you, wiping away the mustache the hot chocolate gave you before sucking his thumb off, “I don’t hate it anymore, because I’m not alone,” he said, his thumb pulling on your plump bottom lip.
“Um...” you face heated up as looked away, “You got me gifts!” you screamed a bit overzealous to change the subject, “Can I open one now? Please?! I’m just so excited!”
“Sure,” he murmured, a bit salty that he didn’t get the kiss.
He knelt next to you on the carpet as you pinked one up, shaking it next to your ear, scrunching your nose up so cutely as you tried to decipher what it was.
“Mmm... I can’t tell...”
“Why don’t you just open it?” he asked as his hand caressed your bare thigh, finding himself unable to keep his hands off of you now that he has you.
You ripped at the wrapping paper, opening the box to reveal the skimpy baby pink lingerie he had got you.
You pulled it out of the box and then started stammering, unable to form words once you realised what it was. “Is this... um..”
“Do you like it?”
“Yes, it’s very cute and nice. Do you, want me to wear it for you?”
“If that’s what you want,” he said casually and then shrugged but then regretted it as your face fell and you let. He wasn’t used to half-assing things if he was going to tell you his true feelings, he had to go all out.
Taking a deep breath, “I have to tell you something I’ve been meaning to say for months.”
“What?”
“I... love you,” he looked down at your lap, because he couldn’t bear to look in your eyes if you decided to reject him.
“Oh, Andy!” you beamed, “I love you too! I’ve always loved you,” you crawled on top of him, throwing your arms around his neck you hugged him.
“That’s good then,” he smiled stroking your back, he pulled you back so he could look at your pretty face, cupping your cheek he pressed his lips against yours.
He had only kissed you once, months ago at your wedding, and while it was not bad at all it was too short and formal and distant, nothing compared to how he felt right now. Moulding his lips against yours, kneading the flesh of your ass, you tasted just as sweet as he imagined you would.
You gasped in his mouth when he rutted his erection up into your core. “Andy!” your chest heaving as you felt him pressing against your thigh.
“What do you say you go put that on for me, doll? Hm?” he instructed.
You meekly nodded, grabbing a hold of the lingerie which you just now noticed was so sheer and would not really leave anything to the imagination.
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“Come on out quickly now,” his impatience seeping through his voice as he sat on the edge of his, or what would now be both of your marital bed, one leg crossed over the other, his foot tapping against the floor.
His pants already snug, just from imagining what you would look like with the flimsy thing on. It wasn’t as revealing or kinky as some of the other pieces he had seen, but he felt it would match your personality perfectly.
He groaned, calling out your name again, “I’m gonna fucking die of blue balls, if you don’t come out right now, I’m coming in,” he got up to his feet to do just that but then stopped when he heard the knob twist.
One smooth leg peaking out of the bathroom, “Um... promise you wouldn’t make fun of me?” you asked. Your eyes screwed shut, you didn’t really have much of choice but you had never been so vulnerable in front of anyone. You’d hate to not be satisfactory for him.
“I promise,” his face softened, he had to practice some restrain, at least until he breaks you in, “Now come on out.”
You opened the door, your meek eyes fixed on your hardwood floor, your hands hugging your midsection. You blinked when he said nothing for several long, tortuous moments. Peaking a glance up at him you found him staring at you.
“Uh, do you like it?” you asked as your hands played with the helm of the teddy.
He almost scoffed. Like would be an understatement.
He knew pink would be your color. The nightie so short, clinging to your curves, your nipples pebbled against the satiny fabric, you looked like a sweet little doll and a whole fucking meal to devour at the same time. He would burst before he even got to touch you.
“Twirl,” he made the motion with his forefinger to demonstrate it, “Let me look at you better. And hands to your sides.”
You took a deep breath, letting your hands fall, doing as he had asked, your heart hammering in your chest because for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out if he actually liked you.
“Stop there,” he instructed when he got a look at your pert, round butt, the cloth barely covering it, he could see the imprints of the thong you wore.
“What are you thinking?” you asked.
“If I like your front better or your behind.” He almost chuckled at the incredulous gasp you let out. “Alright, look at me again.” Definitely the front, because he could see your beautiful face. Taking his original position on the bedding, “Come here,” he patted his lap.
Like the obedient wife that you aspired to be, you followed, perching yourself up on his lap, your arms around his neck for some support, looking into his lust blown, dark eyes.
You bite your lip when you felt that pressing into your thigh. Unable to bear his intense gaze you hid your face in the crook of his neck.
He hushed you, snuggling your soft body closer to his, his fingers drawing patterns on your hip, “How many men have you been with before?”
It didn’t really matter whatever your answer would be. But he wanted to tell you, that how ever many there were before him won’t matter anymore. From now on you are solely his.
“None,” you whispered so lowly that he almost couldn’t hear you.
“What?” Holding onto your chin so that he could make you look at him, “None? How is that possible?”
“I’ve just been waiting for the right one... I was going to with Alex but then didn’t...” you said as your hands caressed the coarse hair on his jaw.
He hummed, the fact that he would be your one and only, forever, only served to entice him further.
“Have you ever sucked a cock before?” he asked, although he knew the answer.
“No...”
“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” he promised, pushing on your shoulders to make you get on your knees.
You hissed at the cold floor, biting into the your calves and knees.
His dainty princess, he grabbed a throw pillow, instructing you to put it under, all the while staring at your cleavage peaking out like a creep.
Your eyes were fixated on his crotch, eager to see what a real penis looks like. You had watched some porn when you were a teen, out of sheer curiosity, but your friends had told you to lower your expectations. That real ones are much smaller and not so aesthetically pleasing.
You all but gasped when he took his cock out of the confines of his sweats, slapping over his abdomen. So big... and thick, with two veins over it, a bright flushed tip leaking with pre-ejaculate, and some soft hair dusted at the base of it.
You tried to stop yourself but then couldn’t help it, your hand shyly touching his tip yanking it down and then releasing it to see what happens. As suspected it flew back over, hard against his tummy, making you giggled.
“Oh gosh...” you slapped a palm over your mouth to stop from laughing.
He scrunched up the hair on the back of your head, yanking your neck back so that he could look at you, “What’s so funny?” he growled.
“Nothing,” you gulped, “It’s all just so strange and new... and exciting...”
He hummed as he took in your words. Grabbing the base of his cock as he rubbed his tip and precum all over your cheeks till your face was positively glowing with his essence.
“You wanna taste it?” he asked, to which you eagerly nodded.
Nudging your pouty lips with his tips before tapping on them when you didn’t get the clue, “Open.”
“Oh,” you said before opening as wide as you could, his length easing into your mouth. You hummed around him, the salty unique taste of him you had never really known before and couldn’t get enough of now.
He was barely halfway through inside you when he touched the back of your throat, he tutted, “Relax your throat,” he told you.
You didn’t really know what he meant but you tried loosening up all your muscles. Choking around him when he pushed in a few more inches.
Most of him was still out but it was as good as it’s gonna get, not that he’d ever complain... no... your mouth was like heaven. He had only known his hand for the past year Or so, and your mouth was almost too much.
Holding onto your face to keep it in place he started thrusting upwards into you, his heart swelling with tears escaped your eyes but you still tried to take more of him, to please him like the good girl that you were.
He stopped his hips, gently slapping your cheek to get your attention, “You always look at me when my dick is in your mouth. Got it?”
Since you couldn’t talk with your mouth full of cock, you just nodded.
You peered up at him innocently, fluttering your lashes, popping him out of your sloppy mouth, “Am I doing it right?” because you truly couldn’t tell.
He chuckled, smoothening a hand down your hair, “More than right... it’s too good but I want to come in your pussy. Maybe I’ll make you swallow my load latter, what do you think?”
“Yes, I’d like that,” you licked your lips to taste more of him.
“Get on the bed,” he ordered.
“Um... can I go fix my face before that,” you rubbed your mouth with the back of your hand, you doubted you looked very pretty to him then.
“No,” he stated, pulling you up by your armpits and all but throwing you on the bed.
You yelped and tried to protest, “I wanna look good for you...”
He pushed your legs apart to make room for him, smirking above you, eyeing you up as if you were a piece of meat, his prey, “This really does look pretty on you...” he rubbed the flimsy spagetti strap between his fingers, “but it’s served it’s purpose.”
You screamed, holding onto his wrists as he ripped the babydoll in two pieces, revealing your breasts to him, he yanked at it, throwing the remains away.
“That’s much better,” he gritted, pinching one of your peaks, capturing it in his mouth and suckling at it to his hearts content.
You pouted as you looked at the torn cloth, a bit upset that he ruined his gift to you. “I really liked that...” you sniffled. But couldn’t really ponder because Andy’s ravenous mouth was sucking hickies all over your breasts.
“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you ten more,” he bit into the side of your breasts, your mewls and whines were like music to his ears.
“Andy...” you heaved, “Don’t leave marks... I have to go to dinner tomorrow to moms...”
He stopped abruptly, propping himself up above you and you were afraid that you had upset him, “You’re my wife now, honey. Your father gave you to me,” his hand snaking down your body, between your legs, he parted your moist lips, the pad of his fingers meeting your little pearl, “I can do whatever I want with you,” he reminded you, pushing a finger into you, “This cunt is mine now, got it?”
“Yess...” you whined as you squirmed under him, the invasion of his finger inside you too alien to your body.
“Which means you ask for permission before you touch yourself, or better yet, don’t touch yourself because that’s my job,” he stated.
“Have you ever made yourself come?” he asked, trailing soft kisses down your body till he settled between your legs, moving the strong of the thing to the side so he could get a better look at your virgin pussy, adding another finger inside you, your snug walls clinging to his digits, “You’re so fucking small. Can barely fit my finger. How will you take my cock,” he teased.
He’d make you take it.
You whimpered at the sting of it, “I’ll try, daddy...” throwing your head back as you massaged your breast.
You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him when he stopped his ministrations, “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” he quirked a brow. “Do you realise what you just called me?”
You simply shook your head because you hadn’t really called him anything, “Andy?”
“No,” he huffed, “You called me daddy, honey.”
You gasped, you didn’t mean to say it out loud! “No...” you shook you head from side to side, trying to pull away from his fingers still knuckle deep inside you, “It can’t be!”
“Oh, but you did,” he laughed, “And you’re gonna say it again. In fact, from now on, when it’s just the two of us that’s the only thing that you will call me. Unless you wanna get punished...”
“Okay...” you said, still a bit unsure of it all.
You had always called him ‘daddy’ in your fantasies. It was maybe a bit expected for it to slip out like that but still so embarrassing. You said it again just to make sure that he actually wanted you to call him that and wasn’t just teasing you.
“Good girl,” he winked, latching his mouth around your clit, fucking you with his fingers as he kept sucking.
“Daddy...” you whined, biting on your hand to muffle some of your noises, a knot building up in the pit of your stomach, “Don’t stop, please!”
You gushed over his mouth, he lapped it all up, making sure nothing went to waste.
“You did good, honey,” he said, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard glistening with your juices. He rolled your thong down your thick thighs, “You wear this to dinner tomorrow,” he told you. “Since I’m going to be a real husband from now on I pick out what you wear.”
All so he could see you in those pretty flowy dresses you wear sometimes, but you didn’t need to know that.
He hastily pushed his sweats and briefs past his hips, throwing them off the bed before pulling his t-shirt over his head.
You bit your lip at just the sight of him. His shoulders so broad, chest so wide, dark hair dusted all over his chest, you just knew then that all those hours he spent at the gym paid off, you knew he’d be ripped.
But you absolutely did not expect, someone as uptight as him to have numerous tattoos all over his torso.
Something inscribed in Sanskrit on his chest that you didn’t really understand... the logo of your family’s mob on just under his pectoral.
You sat up to get a better look at them, tracing a skull on his bicep that looked much less sophisticated than the others, the lines a bit scribbly, it was already fading.
“That’s the first one,” he interrupted you, “I was a kid back then, got my foster brother to do it.”
You pressed a kiss over it, “I love it.”
His blue eyes beamed at you, he was so beautiful...
“Now for your gift...” he circled your wrist bringing it down to his pelvis.
“Hm?” you looked down, tears brimming up in your eyes as you saw your name written on just beside his hipbone, next to his hard cock, standing tall against his stomach. In a small heart, dark ink against his pale skin, “When did you get it done?” you sniffles, touching his skin to feel the texture of the tattoo.
“A few weeks ago. I just... I’ve never belonged to anyone. Never had a family of my own. But now I have you, and you have me, I’m just as much yours as you’re mine,” he confessed, finally feeling the weight of it lifted off his shoulders. You were a blessing in disguise.
“I love you,” you beamed up at him.
“I love you too, doll, now come on,” he pushed you till you were on your back, “Daddy’s waited long enough. Can’t wiat to fill you up, make you mine.”
He planted a hand on the mattress, so he could see what he was doing to your virgin cunt, look at you and her, as he defiles you and makes you a woman, his thick manhood nudging your glistening lips as he eased into you, he felt you stretching around him, your face twisted in pain as you begged him to go easy on you, he halted when he felt your barrier.
He looked up at your pretty face, sparkling with his spend and your tears, your sweet little whimpers filled the room, he stayed still for a moment to let you get used to him, he knew he should take it easy.
His wife was a delicate, fragile, sweet little girl. He should be more gentle. A better husband and man would be. But he had his whole life to become a good man for you, tonight he just wanted to take what was rightfully his.
Letting out a deep, almost animalistic growl, piercing through your seal, your innocence till you were screeching, your nails drawing blood from the sides of his thighs.
“It hurts!” you screamed.
“It’ll only hurt for a little bit, doll. Just ride through it,” he cooed, stroking your sensitive clit to draw your attention away from the pain, he withdrew his hips before snapping them back till he was deep within your womb.
“You’re so snug, honey,” he grunted, not letting up his pace as he kept fucking into you,
A proud smirk gracing his face as he looked down to see himself covered in blood, a sticky mess of both your bodily fluids where your sexes were joined. His dick somehow grew harder inside you knowing how he took something from you that you’ll never be able to give someone else.
Slowly your crying and whining was subsiding as you got used to have him inside you, but he wanted to hear you scream for him in a different way. “Don’t you want to make your husband, no, your daddy happy, honey?” He asked, each word punctuated with a deep, harsh thrust into you.
You nodded, willing your tears away, cringing when you saw his crotch covered in your blood, “Yes I do, daddy. What do I do?”
“Your cute dumb brain always needs to be told what to do,” he chuckled, moving closer to you he circled his palms around your wrists, pinning them above you, “Wrap your legs around me.”
You followed along, wrapping your legs around his hips and hooking them together on his back. Closing your eyes when you felt your body seizing up, your pussy pulsating around his length when you felt the familiar feeling creep up on you.
“Look at me!” he barked and you immediately opened your eyes, “You look at me when I fuck you.”
You gulped and dared not close your eyes again. Even as you felt your orgasm wash over you, clenching around his length. His face was scrunched up, his neck, face and chest flush as he chased his own release till you felt his warm release coating your walls.
He collapsed above you, panting beside you he kissed your hair, “You liked that, babygirl?”
You let out a meek little yes. Feeling empty and void of his warmth and hardness when he pulled out of you before settling next to you.
“But...” you trailed off. Not finding it in you to bare yourself to him like that just yet.
“But what?” he whipped his head to look at you.
“But I’m sorry if I wasn’t very good!” Since you had simple laid there and took whatever he gave you. You had heard that men don’t like that...
“Don’t worry, honey, you were absolutely perfect,” he sighed. “You’ll get even better with practice, we’re gonna practice a lot from now on.”
You tried to cover your breasts up with the comforter, still awkward about being stark naked right next to a man, a man who looked as good as like Andy, but he swatted at your hands, reprimanding you and telling you to stay still and let him look at you to his hearts content.
Soon you felt your cunt throbbing back up again, still so raw from the loving Andy gave it, you tried rubbing your legs together to ease it a little bit.
“It still hurts?” Andy asked as you nodded.
He snaked a hand between your legs, massaging your little nub and your lips, tutting when you tried to pull away from his touch, “Shh I’m trying to make it hurt less.”
He hummed when he saw his seed leak out of you, pushing a finger in you, much to your displeasure, to keep it inside you, where it belonged.
He would make you go on some form of birth control as soon as he could. While the idea of you all round and plump with his kid was more than appealing, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else just yet. You were young, he had plenty of years to breed you.
“You’d make a good mother,” he wondered out loud.
“Hm?” you blinked at him. Squirming from the torture he was yielding on your overworked sex. His lips curled up in a twisted smile as he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping your blood on your soft nipples, painting them crimson as you shivered.
You looked at his cock, hard again against his stomach. “Does it hurt?” you asked, your hands twitching to touch it again.
“Yes, it does. Do you wanna help me get rid of the pain?”
“Mm... can I use my mouth again? I’m sore...”
“It’s okay, honey, you’ll get used to it,” he promised, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, your palms pressed into his abdomen as you looked so wrecked, “Guide me in,” he ordered.
You shook your head which earned you a harsh slap on your ass so you held onto the base of his cock, parting your intimate lips, before slowly sinking down on him.
You sighed as you settled, sitting on top of him with his cock nestled inside you, so full and strangely satisfied, his warmth soothing your aching walls, he spanked you again to remind you to move, so you started bouncing on top of him the best you could.
His hand groped at your bouncing titts before he wrapped a hand around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure as you whimpered and cried, just to remind you who’s in charge, not that you’d forget anytime soon.
His only regret was that he hadn’t done this sooner. He was an idiot to ever resist an angel like you. He’ll have to do a lot to make up for lost time.
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Lesson Learned | Five Hargreeves
✦ pairing — Five Hargreeves x female!Plus Size Reader
✦ word count — 5.1k
✦ college AU-ish
✦ request — Could you write a story in which Five asks reader to teach him to kiss because he has a date (they’re in high school or college if you prefer) but gets carried on and they have sex so it becomes the norm and she thinks they’re fwb but he thinks they’re dating so they get into a fight when she tells him she can do it anymore because she fell for him and has turned other people down?
✦ warnings — nsfw, Five and reader are in college, language, Five is a virgin, smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, angst, jealousy, misunderstandings, awkwardness, fluff.
✦ author's note — I changed the ending, but for the most part, this is loyal to the request.
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He had to be joking. Sure, Five wasn’t one to joke around too much, but he wasn’t one to talk about his love life with you either.
You glanced at him. With his back flush against the backrest of your desk chair and hands on his lap, he stared back.
“I can explain it to you...”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s not the same! Many things could go wrong. Dad always said to start small and practice.”
You rubbed your forehead, exasperated. “But I’m not an expert on kissing.”
“I’ve seen you make out with people at parties.”
Parties he always complained about. You understood where Five was coming from, he had been strictly homeschooled his entire life. It was a miracle that Reginald accepted to let him enroll in college.
Resigned, you left your seat on the bed, motioning for him to stand up too. Five complied, eyes on your face as he waited for you to say something else.
Swallowing your spit, praying you would stop hyper-salivating soon, you rested your right hand on his left cheek.
Five looked down at your hand, frowning.
“They’ll probably touch your face if they kiss you.”
Forcing him to slant his head, you explained, “Tilting your head makes it more comfortable. That way, when you move your lips against theirs, your noses don’t get in the way.”
Gently, he placed his hand on your cheek. Five pushed your head to the side so you’d tilt it too.
You could feel your heartbeat quicken which prompted you to take a deep breath. “You should be gentle at first, don’t stick your tongue into their throat or something like that.”
“I know the theory,” he snapped. “Can you just teach me the practice already?”
“Right.” You brought him to your height, unconsciously wetting your lips.
His breath fanned on your face, warm and rigged. You closed the gap between your mouths, fluttering your eyes close when he started moving his lips on yours.
It felt good, natural. You doubted it was his first kiss until his teeth grazed your bottom lip as he got too into the kiss too soon.
Swiping your thumb over his cheek, you pulled away to explain some more. “Easy. You’re just learning.”
Feeling him nod against your hand as he puckered his lips up to kiss you again, you added, “There’s nothing wrong with going at your own pace. If the other person really wants to kiss you, they’ll understand. You should do the same with them.”
Five pulled you closer to him, dropping his mouth onto yours. His kiss was intense, and you couldn’t help but match the passion he was pouring into it.
Your fingers slid into his hair which made him shudder. He added his teeth purposefully this time, bitting down your bottom lip.
“Well,” you breathed out, “I think you’ll do fine.”
“Oh, shut up.” He kissed you again, dropping his hand to your shoulder and letting it travel down your arm.
His fingers brushed yours yet he didn’t stop there. He planted his hand on your hip, groaning when you tugged on his hair.
Your tongue slid across his bottom lip, catching him off guard for a millisecond. Five opened his mouth, granting you access more than happily.
Gripping your hip with no inhibitions now, he walked you backward. You broke the kiss, gasping for air, confused as to what he was doing.
It clicked when your calves hit the base of the bed. You searched for his eyes, wanting to make sure he knew what he was doing. Finding dilated pupils, you gulped.
“You’ll have to teach me,” he panted on your mouth, voice deeper than earlier.
You nodded, lightly pushing him off. You had never been anyone’s first before, much less taught someone how to have sex. Nervous, you slowly dragged your hands down his chest and torso.
Pulling at the hem of his t-shirt, you waited for him to lift his arms to discard it. You looked at him appreciatively, already having expected a fit body due to his training.
Grabbing his arms, you leaned over to leave a tentative kiss on his neck. Five hummed, bringing his hands back to your body, skimming your back.
The reaction encouraged you to be more firm with your ministrations, adamant to find his sensitive spot.
Fisting your blouse, he rasped, “Let me take this off.”
Standing straight, you lifted your arms like he had done. Five slid the item off quickly, throwing the blouse to the chair.
He traced your breasts, looking at you to see if you were okay with it. Placing your hands on top of his, you encouraged him to touch you firmly.
As he kneaded your breasts from on top of your bra, you resumed the attention you were giving to his neck. You seemed to find the spot you had been looking for under his ear.
He held you flush against him as you kept kissing his skin, breathing unsteadily. Five groaned, attempting to undo your bra with shaky fingers.
“Fuck,” he blurted a curse as you harshly sucked on his neck, “you’re driving me insane.”
“That’s the idea,” you chuckled, hands moving to the front of his jeans. Brushing his bulge with your knuckles, you felt his breath hitch.
He dropped his head forward, lips caressing your shoulder as he hid his face in your neck. You cupped his bulge, and his hips thrust forward in reaction.
Five kissed your neck like you had been kissing his earlier, yet he got messy quicker. You moaned softly, feeling him suck on your skin like his life depended on it.
Unfastening his jeans, you pulled them down. He kicked his shoes off immediately, pushing the denim down his legs and kicking the jeans to the side too.
You palmed his cock, only for him to remove your hand. Before you could assume he didn’t want this anymore, he pulled your leggings down.
Abashed by the fact that you were wearing mismatched underwear, you got rid of the leggings. Turning around, giving him your back, you instructed, “Watch my hands.”
Five tried really hard to pay attention as your fingers unclasped your bra, but the only thing he could do was picture your fingers around his cock.
You grabbed his hand as you faced him, guiding it back to your breast to teach him how to pinch your nipples.
He rolled your nipple between his thumb and index fingers, making you let a whine out. Getting confident, wanting to hear more of those sounds that went straight to the tip of his cock, he started using both hands.
This time he didn’t stop you from touching his cock. You didn’t touch him much, he was almost completely hard already and both of you knew he wouldn’t last long.
His cock sprung free when you took his underwear off, beautifully hard. He hissed at the change of temperature — the hiss quickly turned into a low groan as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft.
Huffing a sigh out, he clumsily got rid of your panties.
Reaching for the drawer of your bedside table, you pulled a box of condoms out. He frowned upon seeing it, but made no comment.
You handed him one and let him take his time to put it on. Rearranging your pillows to be more comfortable, you laid on your back.
Five kneeled on the bed, dragging his eyes down your body. You opened your legs for him.
Crawling closer to you, he looked down to see what he was doing and hesitated.
“It’s okay if you want to stop,” you reminded him.
“It’s not that. I don’t want to hurt you,” he admitted.
“Oh.” You cradled his cock, gently guiding his tip in. He shut his eyes as you did so, swallowing rather harshly. Craning your neck upward, you kissed his throat, letting go of his cock as he slowly continued to push in.
Five cursed. The strained tone made you clench around him, prompting him to let out a growl.
Ready, adjusted to his size after a tense moment, you told him, “You can move whenever you want. Slow at first.”
Opening his eyes, he placed his hands on your thick thighs. The movement of his hips, slow and hesitant, showcased how nervous he was.
You smiled at him in assurance, hoping he already knew you wouldn’t judge him if things didn’t go as he expected.
It worked to some extent, his clammy hands slid to the sides of your thighs once he felt comfortable with going a little faster.
Lewd sounds filled the room, making Five wonder how could you be that wet. You winced, afraid of embarrassing yourself.
Hovering over you, he kissed you. Forcefully gripping your thighs, rocking his hips at a desperate pace.
He couldn’t believe how good it felt. Five hadn’t given sex much thought before, he didn’t have time for most things — now everything he could process was how warm you were around him, wet and tight.
His stomach contracted as the coil inside him wound tighter. Taking deep breaths, he tried every trick he had read in order to not cum yet.
“It’s okay,” you panted, caressing his hair tenderly as you felt him twitch inside you, “let go.”
Relieved, he spilled into the condom, whining. His hands trembled, eyes wide open. Five never imagined it would be different from coming after jerking off. Oh, how wrong he had been.
“Hold the base when you pull out, that way you don’t make a mess.”
He did as you instructed him, tying the condom once he had taken it off. Five threw the discarded condom into the trash can, chest heaving up and down.
He laid beside you, catching his breath as he looked up at the ceiling.
“You didn’t come, did you?”
“That usually happens the first time you have sex with someone.”
“Don’t make excuses for me.”
You rolled to lay on your side. Five had his jaw clenched, the muscles in his abdomen were contracted, and he was frowning.
“Hey.” You reached for his face, making him look at you. “There are many ways to please someone. Everyone is different. That’s not your fault.”
He scoffed. Five didn’t like being like other people, making other people’s mistakes was stupid, unoriginal.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.”
“I clearly didn’t do something right!”
“Women tend to have a hard time coming the first time they’re with a new partner. It’s just... normal.”
“What makes you come?”
“It depends from person to—“
He interrupted you, “I asked you specifically.”
“It doesn’t matter. I can get myself off.”
He rolled on his side, resting his hand on your waist as he breathed on your face. “Tell me,” he insisted.
“Fingers should be enough,” you mumbled, eyes on his mouth.
Five dragged his hand down, following your curves. He stopped at your inner thigh for a moment, watching you, mapping your face.
Your eyes were hooded, wanton and pretty; mouth slightly open as you waited for him to please you. Him.
He parted your labia, assuming that was what he had to do to enter you, and gasped upon feeling just how wet you were. It was better than hearing it; it felt real now. He had made you wet. He.
“How many?” The question was low and firm, husky tone going directly to your clit.
“Two.”
Dipping his index and middle fingers into your pussy, Five licked his lips. He was torn between asking more questions and finding out what you liked by himself.
It couldn’t be that hard. He caressed your walls, exploring one side with his index. His knuckle brushed your other side, applying pressure. You whimpered, lulling your head to the side opposed to where he was.
Five shifted his fingers inside you, making you drop your hand to his shoulder as you tried your hardest not to move against his digits.
Intrigued by the spongy mound he had grazed, he touched it again. Your walls squeezed his fingers, hips lifting as your body jolted up.
His name escaped you through a sob. It was too much, you needed him to take you there already. Just a little push and you would explode.
Remembering how good it felt when you kissed his throat, he dropped his head into your neck to do the same, curling his fingers inside you when he realized it was easier to touch the soft sponge that way.
Your moans, mixed with the wet sounds of his fingers deep inside you, got him feeling hotter. He needed you to say his name again, even if it was just once — the sound had been so sweet, so sensual, he was sure he wouldn’t need porn to jerk off ever again.
Hand planted on his neck as you looked for something to hold onto, feeling as though your soul would leave your body if you didn’t find something to ground you, and only half-aware of what you were saying, you clamped your legs closed.
You were finally there, squealing his name so he wouldn’t stop. And he didn’t, not until your whimpers and cries subsided. Even then, Five found the pressure and fluid wetness on his fingers pleasant — so pleasant he unconsciously continued fingering you.
Your legs trembled and a loud sob broke through you. “Too much,” you choked out.
Five stopped moving his fingers, lifting his head to look at you. “Did I hurt you?”
Not able to form a coherent sentence, you pulled him into a kiss. He kissed you slowly, using his position to his advantage to lay you on your back so he could caress your cheek with his free hand.
The kiss had to be cut short when you grew breathless. Fluttering your eyes open, you found his own focused on your face. Your thumb traced his jaw as your hand stayed firm on his neck.
Five pulled his fingers out of you. Hissing, you shifted your hips. He played with the slick coating his fingers, admiring its glisten.
Before processing what he was doing, he licked his fingers.
Both of you moaned at the same time.
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That saying of never meeting your idols had always sounded a little too pessimistic for your liking.
Now you were sure you had a better one. Never start fucking your crush who happens to be your childhood friend.
You should have known you wouldn’t be able to stop. Teaching him became an excuse, until the excuse didn’t hold up because there was nothing else to teach him. At least not on your behalf.
He never told you how the date went. You preferred it that way, pretending you were the only person he was seeing was better.
Extremely easy, too. You spent a lot of time together — hanging out, doing homework, having sex...
You caught him staring from across classrooms or hallways sometimes, and others he caught you. He always smiled, never showing his teeth but always acknowledging you warmly.
Not seeing him on Friday night and Saturday was fucking with your head. He had things to do, at least that was what he said — probably someone else to see.
Every time he kissed you or touched you made you fear it would be the last. He would eventually settle for someone, you knew how much he needed some sense of normalcy in his life.
And you knew it wouldn’t be you.
Your roommate threw herself onto the couch, lifting her eyebrows as she stared at you. “Soooooo,” she sang, “what’s going on between you and Five?”
You closed your laptop, tired of staring at the blank screen with no idea how to start your essay. “Nothing.”
“Then who gave him that giant hickey he’s been trying to hide with a turtleneck?”
You shrugged. “Ask him.”
“(Name),” she said, trying to sound serious. She failed, too amused by your attempt at being nonchalant. “You’re the only person he hangs out with.”
That wasn’t technically true. He had some acquaintances here and there, and he spent a lot of time with his siblings.
Either way, one doesn’t have to hang out with someone to be involved with them in other ways. For instance, the last time you had seen someone casually, none of your friends got to meet them.
Someone knocked on the door. Assuming it was her partner, you let her open herself, resting your belly on the arm of the couch as you stretched to place the laptop on the table beside it.
You would probably prepare something to snack on and watch a movie unless she needed the apartment for herself.
You heard a familiar “hello” and froze. The couch dipped, prompting you to kneel in order to acknowledge Five.
He leaned on his back to stare at you. Following his tongue with your eyes as it came out to wet his bottom lip, you bit the inside of your cheek.
“I brought your favorite cookies,” he announced softly, nodding upward.
A paper bag laid on the wooden table at the center of the living room, next to your roommate’s tablet. As you deviated your eyes, she gave you a cocky smile, lifting her eyebrows again.
She made an excuse to leave you alone, reminding you that she would be back in the morning. Finding the comment pointless, you rolled your eyes playfully at her and told her to be safe.
Five sat properly, cradling your face to kiss you. The kiss was short, a mere greeting gesture. You observed the bags under his eyes which were bloodshot yet made no comment.
Leaving the couch with the excuse of refilling your water bottle, you offered him something to drink but he declined.
“I’ll be in your room,” he stated as he walked past the kitchen.
He didn’t give you time to answer. You sighed loudly once you heard the door creak open and went back to the living room.
Grabbing the cookies and your laptop, you turned the lights off.
He was discarding the tied-up hoodie he had been wearing to hide the marks on his neck when you entered the bedroom.
You left the laptop on your desk. As for the cookies and the water bottle, you placed them on your bedside table before sitting down on the bed from where you could reach them whenever you wanted.
Five rested his head on your lap, kicking his shoes off to get more comfortable. He grabbed your hand, guiding it to his hair.
Burying your fingers in his dark locks, you started massaging his scalp. He sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist.
You asked, “Are you okay?”
It took him a while to answer. Humming, clearly tired, he said, “It’s been a long weekend.”
“Wanna watch a movie?” you offered. You needed the distraction urgently. Thinking about what could’ve been bothering him wasn’t good for your health.
If it was someone he was seeing, it would break your heart. If it was something that had to do with his family... well, that would also break your heart.
Five fit himself between your legs, using your belly as a pillow. One of his arms was around you while his other hand fiddled with the elastic of your sweatpants.
You continued playing with his hair mindlessly, resigned to the fact that you wouldn’t focus on the film.
“You smell good,” he purred, rubbing his face on the ends of your t-shirt as he shifted to bury his nose in the material and sniff it.
He fell asleep on your lap before the third act of the movie started.
════════════════════════
He hadn’t wanted to attend the stupid party. Five was tired, sleep-deprived, and quite worried. Klaus wanted him there, and he couldn’t say no to his brother when he had his own reasons to attend.
Regardless, he should’ve imagined Klaus had dragged him there with other intentions.
“Pleaaaaaase?” Klaus whined.
Five gritted, “I said no. I am busy later.”
Five adored his brother, he often gave into Klaus’ whims, but covering for him wasn’t that easy, and he had plans already.
Things weren’t going as smoothly as he wanted them to, and the logical solution was taking time to do them right before it was too late. It was his primary focus.
He had spent days asking around, doing research, planning things. Letting Klaus ruin everything because he wanted to get laid couldn’t be allowed.
Klaus pouted, narrowing his eyes as he scanned the room. “I’ll ask (Name) then.” He then giggled, “But not now. Or later. She might get some tonight.”
Five opened his mouth, “How did—“ he stopped himself, Klaus wasn’t looking at him anymore but at something behind him.
Turning around, Five found your frame a few meters away from him. You were chatting with a guy he had seen in passing, hand on his bicep — he believed the blond idiot to share a class with you.
What was his name? Something dumb, clearly. Fuck, why couldn’t he remember names now? Luke... or Lucas? It started with an L. It suited him.
Not thinking much of it, aware of how friendly you were, he took a sip of his drink. Five almost choked when he saw you throw your head back in a fit of laughter.
Everyone knew your companion wasn’t funny or smart. Why were you laughing with him? And why hadn’t you approached Five to say hello?
Leaving Klaus without a word, he walked toward you. He recognized your laugh as a painfully fake one, too giggly to be of your own or natural. It was vomit-inducing.
Five stood at your side. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he lied.
You shifted to acknowledge him, speaking through your teeth. “I’m a little busy right now.”
Thrusting his drink into your hand, he ignored your companion. “It’s your favorite,” he smiled at you sweetly.
Your heart fluttered in your chest, prompting you to take a sip to keep yourself from giggling. For real this time. A smile had never made you so nervous.
Then again, Five rarely smiled genuinely.
Your companion cleared his throat, trying to get your attention again.
Turning to look at the other man, Five nodded upward. “Oh, hey Luke.”
“It’s Lance.”
“Right.” Five nodded dismissively. Sliding his arm around your shoulders, draping his hand as his knuckles brushed your jaw, he told you, “Can you talk to Liam later? I need your help.”
“My name is—“
Five gave Lance a tight sarcastic smile. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
You passed the cup to your other hand, wrapping your arm around Five’s waist. Choosing him, always him for some stupid reason.
Lance scoffed. “I’ll see you around, (Name).”
He glared at Five as he made his way toward his friends. Uncomfortable, you looked down. This was the third time you turned someone down for Five, and you were growing tired of it but couldn’t stop doing it.
“You didn’t answer my texts earlier.”
“You know I’ve been busy.”
“Yeah, like you were busy with your new bestie now.”
His harsh tone made you face him. He was glaring at the empty space in front of you, where Lance had been standing.
“You said you needed my help...” you trailed off, desperate to get past the uncomfortable silence.
He nodded. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
Giving you a look that told you not to ask more questions, he pulled you closer, dragging you with him.
Leaving out of nowhere, without warnings or apologies to your friends, wasn’t wise. They could worry, or get mad at you when it had taken them so long to convince you to stop brooding and attend the party.
They surely would understand if you explained that Five had needed your help. Or tease you for dropping everything to be with him.
The weather outside of the venue was nice, nicer than the previous days when the heat had been so intense you had been tempted to sleep naked.
“Are you at least telling me what’s wrong?”
He looked up at the sky, humming in thought. This wasn’t the way he had intended to apologize, or to say anything. “I was hoping you would tell me.”
“You’re the one who needs help.”
“I clearly lied.”
You rolled your eyes to yourself. He was acting as though you were always willing to put everything aside for him. And you were. Fuck.
“Can I go back to the party?”
“Back to that idiot?” he mocked you. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to tell you all about the underage girls he has been grooming.”
Jesus fucking Christ. You just wanted to have fun for a night. Just one night of not going to bed wondering if he was in someone else’s room. Lance had seemed willing to make you forget — it would’ve been a transactional night, nothing more and nothing less.
Your silence only made matters worse. Bitterly, Five gritted, “One would think that after a week of being so busy you couldn’t hang out with your boyfriend you would be happy to have some time alone with him, but for some fucking reason I’m not enough tonight.”
“With my what?” You asked, baffled.
He shifted, twisting his body to gaze at you. “I know you’ve been busy, okay? And I have also been focused on other things, extremely stressed too.” Five leaned his head on the concrete wall. “It’s not an excuse. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, yeah.” You nodded. “But what did you say earlier? Like... seconds earlier.”
Struggling to repeat it, worried you would agree, he stammered, “That I’m not good enough tonight?”
“You used the word boyfriend.”
Five looked at you like he didn’t understand what you were talking about. “That’s what I am,” he said, obfuscated by the fact that he had to state the obvious.
“You are?”
“Am I not?”
“Well... no, but a little bit but not really? I mean—“ interrupting yourself, you shook your head. Acting like a babbling schoolgirl would get you nowhere.
Sure, you wanted to throw up; and yeah, you were probably getting what you wanted — but things weren’t supposed to go that way.
“You never asked,” you reminded him. How could you have known he was taking things so seriously? “I assumed we were friends with benefits.”
“We spend our free time together, making out and whatnot.”
“Yeah! Friends with benefits do that. Those are the benefits.”
“We go on dates,” he challenged you to find an explanation that would follow your warped logic. Friends with benefits! What a dumb thing to assume when he was giving you every drop of his love and attention.
Dates? What the fuck was he talking about? Hanging out at cafés and going to the movies?
“Those aren’t dates.”
“That’s stupid. Why would there be so many fucking rules to be in a relationship?”
You blew air out through your mouth, willing to explain it to him. “It’s not about rules. If you don’t clarify your intentions, people can only assume. The only qualifier for something to be a date is calling it that. It’s not that hard.”
“Fuck.” He rubbed his palms against his face, gripping his hair as his hands traveled up his head. “I feel like an idiot.”
“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have assumed anything either.”
He shook his head. “It’s something much more embarrassing.”
“Should I even ask?”
“Don’t laugh.” He lifted a finger, pointing at you in a threatening stance.
“I won’t,” you promised. How bad could it be?
Oh, it was bad. Okay, not bad, just... over the top. You wanted to laugh really badly — not at him, but out of nervousness. And maybe a little bit at him.
He had managed to scatter flower petals all over a hotel room floor while candles formed a trail toward the bed.
Light from more candles emanated from the bathroom where you could see even more flowers, beautifully arranged around the bathtub.
You opened and closed your mouth, trying to find something worth saying, a reaction that wouldn’t offend him.
“It’s romantic.” He made a pause, twisting his clasped hands. “Right?”
“Y—yeah.”
Five tsked. “It’s too fucking much, I know. I wanted to be romantic because my girlfriend has been stressed out and turns out I look like a fucking lunatic by doing this!” Lifting his hands in a frustrated gesture, he clenched his jaw.
You placed your hands on his shoulders. “It’s sweet.” He was pouting now, prompting you to be more firm, “I mean it.”
“You don’t seem to like it.”
“Of course I do! It’s just news to me that we’re dating.”
“Have you...” he made a meaningless movement with his hand, wetting his lips. “You know... seen other people?”
“No.” You decided to tell him the whole truth, “I tried a few times, but it didn’t feel right. It’s kind of embarrassing, I’ve turned people down because of you while thinking you didn’t care about me.”
“And I thought I was the delusional one.”
“You would’ve saved me from a lot of stress if you had stated your intentions clear,” you defended yourself. “Put yourself in my shoes, we had sex the first time because you wanted me to teach you.”
“We had sex the first time because you turned me on,” he corrected you, gripping your hips, making your dress inch up. “Why are you wearing a dress?”
“You don’t want to know.”
Five brought you closer to him, face red and eyes sharp. “You are right, I don’t.” He leaned over, trying not to focus on anything else but your lips.
You met him in the middle, kissing him first as you captured his bottom lip between yours. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled on his mouth, only to kiss him again.
Five slowed the kiss down for once, giving you short kisses instead. He rested his forehead on yours, arms around you as he swayed you to a rhythm you didn’t really know.
“Is it a bad moment to tell you I’m in love with you?”
With your hands on his shoulders, you shook your head. “It would only be bad if you didn’t mean it.”
“I never meant anything more in my life.”
“I’m in love with you too.”
He smiled, angling his face to give you another kiss. Sweet and long, as if he had all the time in the world. Five peppered kisses all over your face, huffing more smiles as he gazed at your reaction.
“Do you want to take a bubble bath?” he asked, mouthing your jaw. “I brought your favorite scent.”
“Are you joining me?”
“That was implicit, honey.”
You grabbed his hand then, bringing him into the bathroom with you.
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psychewithwings · 3 years
Text
Pt. 1 A Visitor... Once Again  Kirishima x Goddess!reader
hello hello, this is my contribution to this months bnharem collab! The theme was ‘mythology and lore’ and hit very close to my ancient greek loving soul. We have so many wonderful writers and artists that have worked hard so pls check out the rest of the collab here!!!
I’ve been rather ill and so I’ll be breaking it up into parts, part 2 will be out as soon as I am feeling more myself (which will hopefully be next week). Please enjoy a story about 2 of my favourite characters. Kirishima Eijirou, as his hero self (tho with a demi-god twist) and reader! as Kalypso, the goddess, daughter of Atlas, the titan who holds up the sky. Her curse is that she is forced to live alone on an island and fall in love with any visitor who falls to her shores. Once she falls for them, she is forced to ask if they would like to stay and she may grant them immortality if they say yes, and if not? They may leave. They have no way of leaving the island until she falls in love. She is a kind and wonderful character and I have a lot of love for her, (perhaps I relate to her a bit too much) so it is an honor to tell a new version of her story. 
This is set in present day even tho Kalypso is an ancient greek figure, Kirishima is about 25-28 here? Pro hero Kiri!
TW: a small sex scene in the beginning, little bit of dirty talk, penetration
———————————————————————
“Fuck, thats it baby, feel it going all the way inside? Feels good right?” You moan into his neck, “s-so good.” He starts to thrust in and out slowly. Your nails dig into the muscles of his back… his… names and faces are unimportant blurs as he continues to thrust inside. Each drag of his cock hits each sweet spot and taps against your cervix. “Fuck~ you feel so fucking good darling, so-fucking-good, perfect, fucking perfect… yeah that's it clamp down on my cock, massage it with that perfect pussy.” His hand slips between your sweat soaked bodies and rubs quick circles over your clit. “Gonna cum for me baby? I can feel it, you’re about to gush~” You cry into his neck, soft tears of ecstasy hitting his skin. You’re close, so very close-
“Hello? Hey!!! Is anyone home?? Hello?”
You open your eyes and the man above you, the cock inside you, all falls away. It had all been a dream… a delicious, wonderful dream. A dream that had been ruined by an incurable racket. You stare groggily at the ceiling. The ache in your core of having been so close to cumming now boils into a rage. “Hello?!?! Is someone here? Hello??” Your brow crinkled in confusion as to who the rasping voice belonged to. You check to see if you had somehow managed to flip the tv on but the screen was dark. “Does anyone live here?” It dawned on you then… It’s a visitor.
You check the clock that blinks 5:37AM. You groan into a pillow and kick your legs in an attempt to relieve the ache. Your bare thighs are covered in your arousal, which has turned into your frustration. You stay lying still in hopes that he will go away, leave you alone, never return. “HELLO????!?!” But he had to stop screaming and it didn’t seem like he was going to until he came into contact with someone… You knew the nature of the curse well enough at this point but you would try to rebel as long as you could…
You flip the covers off of your body and slowly walk to grab a robe to cover yourself with. You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror while you finish tying the robe. “We got this,” you point to yourself, “no falling in love this time, no falling in love no matter what, ever again, you hear me?” You nod back to yourself. “Pinkie swear.” You touch pinkies with the mirror and laugh coldly. “No more foolish love,” you sarcastically remark before opening the french doors and stepping onto the balcony.
You stare down at the man who had been shouting for so long and your heart drops. He’s beautiful, red hair hanging in his face, still wet with the sea. His body must have been designed by the muses and chiseled by delicate hands. It’s clear even through his clothes. Son of Ares? Or even Zeus perhaps? He is interesting, never had you seen a demigod with such clear physical strength and kind eyes. The combination was rare. He gives you a grin which then fades to surprise. “Oh- I am so sorry, my manners,” he laughs nervously before slowly kneeling on the ground. “Great Goddess, I humble myself now in front of your grace and all encapsulating beauty…” You roll your eyes hoping he will take the hint and shut up. It wasn’t any different from the men before him… It was the same shit as always, though you were disappointed, this one seemed different upon first glance. “...your magnificence is profound, you are both elegant and ethereal in your just standing there-” you cut him off before he can continue the asinine speech. “Ya done?” you ask bluntly.
His eyes grow wide and he softly utters a “what?” You roll your eyes and lean on the gold railing. “Dude, it’s 5am, you’re yelling and ranting, can ya just get to the point?” He remains on his knees in a bow. His pitch varies with confusion as he speaks. “My ship, uhh I crashed it on your shore, and I was hoping that you could umm, maybe assist me in getting home? I-” he hangs his head for a moment, perhaps in exhaustion before continuing. “I have no GPS, no compass, not even a map… if I could do it without bothering you, I would, nothing you for help isn’t very manly... but please Goddess, please help me get home.”  You sigh, century after century of the same request has really weakened your patience, though he had asked nicer than most. “You’re stuck here for the foreseeable future,” you smile slightly. You wait for the look of annoyance, frustration, fear… but it never comes. In fact he gives a slight half smile as he stands. “Well, nothing we can do?” he asks. “‘Fraid not,” you sigh. He starts to say something else but he winces. “Are you okay?” you ask, genuine concern bleeding through the nonchalant tone you had been practicing the past milenia. He nods and grabs hold of his side. “I got a little beat up, but don’t worry goddess, ‘tis but a flesh wound,” he tips his head down.  As he raises his head he looks deathly pale. “Hey sit down okay?” you call down to him, but it’s too late. His eyes roll back and he collapses. “Shit-” you mutter to yourself as you run down to him.
He lays there in a crumpled heap, his breathing shallow. “Wish you’d said you were hurt first dummy,” you grumble before assessing the situation. You need to get him to the herbs and the back porch. This wouldn't be easy, he’s big, huge really. But he collapsed on his side which makes things easier. You hook an arm around one of his and the other around a leg. It takes a lot and it's a staring but you manage to lift him on your shoulders. If your father can hold up the sky, you can surely carry this brick house of a man back to the bed on the porch. 
You step into the house while fireman carrying him to the screened-in porch to lay him down on the daybed. You place him carefully in the soft, green covers and he whines softly. “You’re gonna be just fine,” you reassure gently. Your back porch was reserved for growing herbs, arts and crafts, summer sleep, and it occasionally became a makeshift infirmary when visitors came to you injured and in need of patching up. It happened once every few centuries…
You grabbed some fabric scissors and cut away his shirt to reveal what had been ailing him. You hoped for a broken rib, those were easy to heal with a careful dose of leaf from the widows bone flower and some angel root. But what lay beneath was worse than imagined. A deep gash in his side had tried to close over and heal but it’s irritated, angry. The wound is oozing a sickly yellow pus and iridescent ichor. The skin around it is red with infection. This is one of the worst you’d been brought with. You touch his head, it’s hot and sticky with sweat. This wasn’t good. “Wait here, okay?” You grab a clump of angel root and take it back inside to the kitchen, setting it in a pot of water to boil. You grab a cloth and wet it under the sink in cold water.
You place it on his forehead and sit on the bed beside him. His face was relaxed and he was even more beautiful now. You brush the hair from his eyes and smile down at him, there was something familiar about him… like you’d met before. Though no one could return to Ogygia.
You lean down to where you can speak over his heart in a language that cannot be written or replicated... But the meaning of the words would go something like:
You are healing
You are youthful and strong
Your heart knows how to heal because it is made of love
Pure love can heal anything
You are healing now
You repeat this chant until you hear his breath deepen and watch the cut sooth. It’s a small enchantment but it has done its job. Sure, you’re no Circe, or her brethren, but you’re an enchantress all the same.
You rush back inside and grab the angel root, that's now wet and flexible from being submerged in water. You lay it across his wound before wrapping it carefully. “There now, wait here and I’m going to get you some nectar to drink,” He doesn't respond but his face is relaxed, less anguished, less in pain. You sigh in relief, hopefully that will be enough to close the wound in a day or so, else he will need to be stitched up.
You return with a small bottle of nectar and a dropper to feed him with. You coax his jaw to relax with your hand before dropping the nectar slowly onto his tongue. “You heroes are an awful lot of trouble… you know that?” You continue to feed him slowly so he won’t choke. You sigh in relief as the colour returns back to his face. He’s so beautiful he’s almost glowing, you start to reach for him, to brush the hair from his eyes but you stop yourself and turn away. “No, no love this time, remember?” you say to your reflection in the glass of the windows.
His eyes flutter open with long slow blinks. You watch as they focus on you. He blinks again. “Elyssium,” he breathes and you can’t help but chuckle. “No, Ogygia,” you correct gently. “I’m Eijirou,” he smiles. You laugh again. “No no, this island, where you are is called Ogygia, you aren’t dead,” you assure. He blinks up at you still and you curse the gods for creating him to be so breathtaking. “And what are you called?” he asks. He attempts to sit up but finds it difficult. You place your hand on his head, it’s warm and you can feel his brow relax against your palm. “You’re much better now, but just take your time…” His hands touch his torso and then move to his head. “You healed me?” You nod, “I’ll have to sew this one the rest of the way, it was quite deep.” He circles his hand around your arm, his thumb stroking soft circles. “Thank you, goddess,” he murmurs. You pull away, his touch sending lightning down into your fingertips. You don't remember the last time you had a visitor on this island of yours… but none of the previous visitors seemed to matter anymore, even though each one had stolen your heart some way or another. But no- no love, not this time, not now, not again… It hurt, but you suppressed the feelings of desire and brushed your hands down the front of your robe. “It’s nothing, but for the love of the lethe, stop calling me goddess. Kalypso is fine, just Kalypso.”
He grabs your hand as you turn to leave, “thank you... Kalypso, thank you for saving my life.” In all the years you had been saddled with this curse, it was rare for the visitor to say your name... and none of them, had said your name quite like that. 
You pull your hand from his grasp and make sure not to look back, even though you want to. “You’re welcome,” you answer simply, “I’ll uhh- get you some water.”   
to be added to the taglist
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rebrandedbard · 3 years
Note
Hi! Can I ask for 30. “It’s not what it looks like…” from the drabble list?
Oh, it’s you! Welcome back! Here for another order at McDrabble? Very well then, I am obliged to use the good serving platter for the sake of continuity:
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30: “It’s not what it looks like…”
wc: 1991 (Wow! That’s a year!)
No Modesty Among Thieves
Geralt finds Jaskier tied up in their room after returning to the inn and all their things have been stolen. He has an unexpected family reunion when he goes to find the burglar.
-
Kidnappers would have been easier, Geralt thought, than dealing with burglars. Had Jaskier been kidnapped, someone would have left a note and ransom. They would be waiting somewhere easy to find. A burglar did not want to be found, which meant he’d have to track them down, which meant more work. He’d had a long day and all he wanted to do was crawl into bed. The moment he’d opened the door of their room, those lovely plans of rest and relaxation had flown out the window, and he was suddenly wide awake, his heart racing, for he found Jaskier tied to the bed frame, completely bare, blindfolded, with a gag in his mouth. He gaped a moment before the smell of fear hit him, then he hurried to the bed and tugged the blindfold from Jaskier’s eyes.
Jaskier sagged with relief at the sight of him. As soon as Geralt removed the gag, the words came flooding out. “It’s not what it looks like…” he sighed, knowing very well what Geralt’s first impression must have been. He shifted uncomfortably, glad of the pillow thrown over his lap. At least the burglar had been thoughtful enough to provide that before clearing out.
“What happened?” Geralt asked. As he worked the knots above Jaskier’s head, he cast eyes about the room. It was completely empty; all of their belongings had been taken.
“Burglar caught me in the bath, blindfolded me, tied me up, and gagged me. Took all of our stuff and booked it.” He rubbed his wrists and shook them out to get the feeling into his arms again. “I’m so glad you got home when you did; my arms just about lost all feeling. I’m already sore from the fight with the gargoyle last week. The second-hand blast knocked me halfway across the room, remember? Burned the doublet right off my back! Singed my shirt, too.”
“I remember,” Geralt replied. He inspected Jaskier’s arms with care. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
“Only my pride. I thought I could tell you from the sound of your footsteps, but evidently, I was wrong. The way the fiend came striding in here, confident as anything like they belonged—well! I thought it could only be you,” he grumbled. “Anyone else would have tried to sneak up behind me instead. They strode right in! And I know, I know; I ought to have kept the door locked, but I swear, Geralt, that I had locked it. It’s a faulty lock, that’s what I think. This inn is cheap and ready to fall to pieces when the wind next blows, and that’s the truth.”
Geralt tossed the blanket over Jaskier’s shoulders for modesty’s sake. “Stay here. I’ll take care of it.” He sniffed the air and announced, “There’s only one trail; pretty strong, too. Likely another patron somewhere down the hall.”
It was an easy game, stealing from other travellers. There were plenty of rooms to hide in. All one had to do was pretend to flee out the door, hood down, pass a few witnesses, then sneak back to their room calm as anything. It was a play Geralt had encountered before.
His brow creased as he scented the room again. It smelled … familiar. He crouched, following the scent from the bed over to the bath, to the corner where he’d left their bags. Meanwhile, Jaskier stumbled out of the bed, the blanket wrapped clumsily around him. He peeked beside the bed and circled the tub. With a huff, he dropped onto the bed once more and sat grumbling.
“Might have at least left the pants, if not my trousers. Not any money in selling those. Rotten thieving bastard.”
Geralt turned to look at him. “They took your clothes?” he said.
“Not that I blame them, really. People are trying to get in my pants all the time,” Jaskier quipped. He resumed his sulking after when he considered how much they’d cost him to buy in the first place.
The smell was stronger as soon as Geralt opened the door. He groaned, the pieces clicking into place neatly. “I’ll be right back,” he growled.
The door slammed shut behind him as Geralt stalked down the hall. He followed the scent to the every end and thrust the door open. And there the prick was, sitting on the floor, Jaskier’s stupid hat on his head, flipping through Jaskier’s notebook with one hand and helping himself to one of Geralt’s dried apple slices with the other. Lambert didn’t even bother to look up as he entered, merely smiling as he popped the slice into his mouth.
“Still hiding your snacks among your potion kit,” Lambert said. “A wonder your bard hasn’t found them yet. His smell is all over your things; one would think he’s always in and out, fetching things for you.”
“Pack it up. I’m kicking you out of here as soon as you’ve helped me carry this shit back.”
Lambert ignored him, rolling over on his back as he flipped to a page closer to the front of the notebook. “Is this one about you? ‘What amorous sight I scowling see, the sweet delights he flares in me, with eyes the gods have wrought of gold, for men to weep and thus behold?’”
Geralt snatched the book from his hands, ears burning hot. “You’ve no right to be prying into others’ things,” he snarled.
“Ah, so you haven’t read his poetry, I take it.”
Lambert hovered over Geralt’s shoulder as Geralt started shoving things into Jaskier’s bag. He grabbed the hat from Lambert’s head and gathered it with the rest, careful not the bend the feather. Of course he hadn’t gone snooping. Jaskier’s notebook was private and Geralt respected privacy, unlike some who felt entitled to anything not bolted and locked.
“How did you like my present?” Lambert asked, flopping onto the bed. He raised his arms above his head in a mockery of the position he’d left Jaskier in. “Oh, what an amorous sight!” he cried, smirking. “Did you weep? I know you to be a weeper; heard enough whores gossip about the white-haired witcher crying in their arms after a tumble. Or did you not unwrap my present? He smelled pretty good for a minute there—aroused by danger, is he?”
Geralt picked up a pillow and smacked him with it. “Don’t go sniffing my bard,” he said.
For once, Lambert made no retort. He only raised one cocky brow at him and smiled.
Geralt found Jaskier’s clothes folded messily on a chair. He put them away carefully in Jaskier’s bag piece by piece. He was about to put the chemise away when Lambert plucked it from him. He flapped it in the air, gave it a light sniff and said, “Kind of smells like you, you know. You two share a bed or something?”
The speed with which Geralt snatched it back was all the answer Lambert needed. In addition, Geralt took back his bag of apple slices. He shoved them in a bag and collected the rest of their things. Last of all, he slung Jaskier’s lute over his shoulder.
Before leaving, Geralt seized Lambert’s own bag and stole from it a package of dried cod. Lambert hated cod. And Geralt knew why he had it. “Stay out of my room and away from Jaskier,” he said, “Or I’ll find your cat and shave him.” He tossed the bag back at Lambert and slammed the door in his gaping face.
The very first thing Jaskier did upon Geralt’s return was check his lute for damage, forgoing his awkward wrap in his hurry to get to it. His cry of relief filled the air and he cradled the instrument close. Geralt waited until Jaskier had put it safely away in its case before tossing his trousers at his head. Jaskier laughed and hugged them close, but rather than dress, he resumed his bath, the water warmed by courtesy of Geralt for his troubles. Geralt sat on the other side of the room, reordering their things as he told Jaskier the truth behind his unpleasant encounter.
Dinner was ordered to their room a half hour later, an apology sent along with it in the form of two baked pears. They ate it together on the floor, Jaskier in a towel, and Geralt kept his eyes on his food, trying in vain to forget the bit of poetry Lambert had sung for him.
“I’ll have to repay him one of these days and run his clothes up a pole,” Jaskier said. “If he’s ever in Oxenfurt, be prepared to spot them flapping below the university’s flag.”
“You’d get nowhere near them,” Geralt replied, cutting himself a bite of pear.
“I don’t know. He seemed eager enough to get my clothes off earlier. Should be easy to tempt him to do it again, then scoop his up while he sleeps.”
Geralt quickly abandoned his pear, apatite gone. He offered Jaskier his plate and returned to his organizing.
After eating, Jaskier stood. He stretched and dropped his hands to his hips, then swayed back to where he’d left his trousers. As he dressed, he looked around, humming to himself.
“Geralt?” he called. “Do you know what became of my undershirt?”
“Lambert doesn’t have it,” Geralt answered.
“Fuck, did he lose it? I haven’t got one spare.”
After another minute of rummaging, Geralt cleared his throat. “You can wear one of mine,” he offered. He produced a large black shirt and held it out to Jaskier at arm’s length.
Jaskier beamed and made a grab for it. “You’re a dear! I shall not wander cold and bare on the road, thanks to your generosity.” He pulled it over his head and smoothed it down. “Hm, very worn and soft. It’s quite comfortable, actually. You sure you don’t mind?”
“Can’t have you walking around half naked,” Geralt grunted.
“Quite right. It may take some time to get to a decent tailor. Be warned: by then I may be disinclined to return it to you. You know how attached I get to my clothes.”
Geralt shrugged. “I can get another,” was the only reply he offered.
Jaskier smiled and bounced happily into bed. “In that case, say your goodbyes now. I’ve never owned anything black but for my hat—it’s quite an attractive color. I’m sure I look as raffish as you! Perhaps more so for the novelty of it. What do you think?”
Whatever it was that Geralt thought, Jaskier was not to know. Geralt gave no answer the next morning, even as Jaskier pranced in front of him, fishing for a compliment. Geralt kept his opinion buried in his throat, almost as secret as his bag of dried apples. And tucked beneath them, he kept another secret folded neatly at the very bottom of his bag. He’d forgotten it in his haste to leave Lambert’s room that night. But Jaskier looked well in his shirt. So the chemise remained where it was, tucked away. After all, if Jaskier intended to keep his, it was only a fair trade.
Jaskier danced another turn in front of him and bowed, the shirt billowing at the end of his arms. He stood upright once more and posed. “Come now, Geralt. You’ve got to admit it makes for a pleasant change.” He flicked the end of one feather from his hat and winked. “What say you? I think we go perfectly together.”
Geralt looked at him, bathed in the early morning light, the very picture of radiance. He nodded, giving Jaskier a small smile. “We do,” he whispered, so soft that no human could ever hear.
“Did you say something?”
“No,” Geralt replied, a startled blink. “Nothing.”
Jaskier looked at him a moment, then shrugged, striding the path ahead. They would get there, he thought privately to himself. They had all the time in the world.
-
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sugar-petals · 3 years
Text
SuperM: Their Orgasm Faces
a/n. i’ve written the same scenario for bts and thought this is perfect for these guys as well 💦
warnings ⚠️ multiple rounds, masturbation, loud sex, crying
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➸ Taemin Constant little trembles. Puffy lips and a huge back arch. Softly moving hips that know exactly what they’re doing, reacting to your every touch. Balmy moans for the gods, they’re such a giant turn-on. His face looks so soft and relaxes into the pleasure without restraint. And my god, the hair. It’s like an old Italian painting. The voice is just as indulging — all those little “ha...” noises he makes. So lush and super breathy. Long story short: He looks perfect in the unlikely case someone forgot. What more can I tell you. He’s broadcasted it to the entire world at this point. In fact, isn’t Taemin’s entire cinematic work a silk and satin-laced compilation of o-faces? Even his haters can’t deny that. He has the perfect variety, perfect sensuality. Never out of place, never too feeble nor too much. He doesn’t just show that to you in bed, he truly owns it. Taemin’s orgasms are really drawn out, it’s the most amazing spectacle. So much to see: And you never know when the first one ends and the second one starts. He’s that erotic and completely swayed by you. If there’s one person completely in tune with his arousal and amps it up to the maximum, and takes you higher yourself with him, that’s Lee Taemin. He cums more beautifully than anyone you’ve ever seen. Fuck, it feels like you have to write him a ten-page thank you letter for being able to witness that. One word suffices: he’s fantastic.
➸ Taeyong You won’t believe it. He is so handsome, but he tries to hide his face. Or buries his hands in his hair, and twists himself to the side. Sometimes, into a pillow. Othertimes, a blanket or a sleeve. Taeyong doesn’t like his pleasure being seen. He’s not just shy; he’s reserved, delicately cautious. He’d rather have his hair fall into his face and conceal all the sweet emotions that surface. His lips are tightly shut and more often than not, he looks away. Even when he’s by himself getting off to the thought of you, he can’t keep his head up. It’s a shame, but you also figure it’s because he gifts himself to you to be very protected, not judged or consumed. Taeyong needs your guidance and strength. That’s why you hug him and let his face rest in the crook of your neck, and it becomes his favorite spot to lean into when he’s coming. Taeyong is more reassured this way. His eyebrows raise and he’s giving you the most heavenly whimpers. It overwhelms him every time. But that’s the place where he can finally moan it out. His voice is so gorgeous, and desperate, and full of gratitude towards you. When he really trusts you, he’s — god — actually grunting in his deep voice and sometimes meets your eye fleetingly. Or sucks in air and holds it before his whole body erupts. Oh my god. Those thighs are gonna go through an entire earthquake. Truth be told: NCT didn’t lie when they sang about a volcano, did they.
➸ Jongin Come on. The main dancer who has his face all up in a camera every stage, making people worldwide bust a nut by just raising a corner of the mouth. If there’s one person with the best, most intense facial expressions? It’s Kai all the way. Just throw the OSCAR right at him. Matter of fact, we all know he is the king of being absolutely stunning in bed. Jongin always looks like he wants to take you in completely, his entire upper body goes forward. His eyes are deep and glistening, but not fully mysterious. First and foremost they’re hundred percent passion just as you’d expect from him. The brows, the fucking brows! The lips, mumbling, and the jaw is in motion even if you wouldn’t pay attention to it at first. And by contrast, he looks more in love than anyone else. Can we appreciate how romantic Kai’s vibe is? How does he do it? He yearns and calls you babe, the entire face feels twitching and shaky. As if he was suffering from being so enamoured, but it feels so good to him. Every new thrust makes his expression change a bit. How he’s allowing himself to feel you literally paints a living story on his features. Toward the middle and the end of his climax, Kai looks so vulnerable and lost in the pleasure that you gave him or he gave himself. It’s almost like he is underwater. If you ever look into those dreamy eyes... Kai’s orgasm face will put an actual spell on you. Have a guess. The spell is called: Make you even hornier and throw your fucking head back from all that good stuff.
➸ Mark Yeah, uh-oh. The bomb is going off right here. It feels like Mark didn’t fuck for literal months every time even if you had sex the other day. His jaw is hanging open throughout. The eyes wide. Lips shivering, only a little. A bit of saliva is pooling just there. Then, his head falls forward. Hair in his eyes, brows clenched toward the middle. He looks like he can’t believe it, he’s helpless to the power it has over him. His orgasm darts through his body like a thunderbolt. You got it, sex with Mark is exactly that, so electric. It arrives fast and it’s over fast. And it’s massive, catches him off guard so often. A big, sweeping “Ah—h!” that carries him away like a tidal wave. Who’s the living super car in SuperM? That’s Mark Lee who goes through his climax like he’s watching a train speed by. What can he do but curse himself and moan. Something is possessing this poor man. His face looks like he has to keep up with his own damn reflexes. Can you imagine how hard his body is going to clutch if he just cums in one go? And if he tries to kiss you during that? What the fuck Mark! He just never calms down, does he. Or wait — fast forward... oh wonder: He falls asleep only minutes after. His face: now completely angelic. Mark really put all his heart and mind and cum into this one orgasm. This guy has dedication and it shows. He always delivers you one hell of a show. Rumor has it you have a couple videos of it on your phone.
➸ Baekhyun Clenches his teeth so hard. The first you’ll hear is a loud and whiny “nnh!” in the buildup. And that’s when you know he can’t go back. The entire neck seems under pressure. He stares. Gasps for air. The breathing, raw as fuck. Up and down goes that chest all the way against you. In fact, he breathes the fastest in the group. His face gets so heated. All those veins come out. This guy’s blood flow is a new level. Releasing tons of stress and energy. His eyes are squeezed shut as soon as it begins because it’s so strong and relieving, it’s borderline painful. He couldn’t speak for the first five seconds even if he tried. Only the second wave brings out a stifled chain of moans that he surrenders to. On some days, he even starts crying from relief. It takes minutes upon minutes until he cools off entirely. Baekhyun is so orgasmic, he’s all splayed out on the bed afterwards or deeply engrossed in your embrace for endless cuddles. I’m telling you. Should you ever get a second orgasm out of him, he’s gonna be reduced to a puddle. A shaking, sobbing mess that can’t stop wailing. There’s only begging for more in these eyes. It goes without saying that you need the most sound-proof room there ever was because he is at the top of his voice. Baekhyun being loud for you is a natural staple. PS: Mark my words. Should you get him to a third orgasm, he’s gonna be screaming without a pause and his fucking tongue is hanging out. 
➸ Yukhei As if he can ever stop wiggling his brows at you. Did you expect he just lets loose and rolls his eye back? No, no. He keeps looking right at you until the end. Full Xuxi confidence and charisma at play. Lots of nicknames coming at you, he’s gonna say them all. That level of eye contact is gonna get you going big time. You know how large and wonderful his eyes are, like a doe’s. Lucas hardly closes them unless it comes to getting blowjobs. Where he’s gonna look at you very intensely most of the time anyway. Lucas tries to not let the sensations overcome him so he remains present with you. He never really seems like he indulges all the way like Taemin or Kai would. The whole thing is pretty suspicious because he doesn’t fully ease into your interplay of movements. Guess why... at any point, he’s invested in making you cum and keeps on pulling out his magic tricks until you’re getting there. He’s gonna use those big fucking hands (he knows you love ‘em) and goes on and on until he has you there. Yukhei’s personality is all over the place, but he has steely concentration during sex. Not to mention the technique. He’s even gonna go for pushing his hair back as a killing part. No mediocre, he’s doing the most. After all: Lucas cums the best if he just saw you losing it or you’re on the way. Synchronizing your orgasms is difficult, but he puts all his focus into achieving just that. Yukhei is an expert in how close you are after a while, and even starts letting himself fall back into the sheets below you when you release together. 
➸ Ten Perfectly understated. Lids heavy, lips opened just a bit. Elegant, almost, and chesty in tone. He’s the connoisseur. My god. It’s the most gentlemanly someone could ever cum. His forehead is so sweaty as is his hair and back, because if Ten fucks he does it properly, but still. He’s so calm. He could be in your arms for more than half an hour and be fully composed. The focus and self-control is just phenomenal. Completely in the moment, not missing a heartbeat. Which is such a hard thing to do but it’s effortless with him. Ten knows the value of moderation and tension. He’s not keeping his groans in for the whole time and only moans when he comes. Not at all. It’s a different story with him. It all builds up perfectly and comes out freely whenever. He’s actually pretty close to singing, his voice accompanies his breathing in ideal sync. So melodic. Ten is all smitten by you. Nothing is kept in. He looks at you so fondly, he enjoys himself so much. So, it becomes a beautiful loving serenade. His face doesn’t make any sudden or extreme contortions either. The expression moves and changes very slowly, is very easy on the eye. Every minute with him is fulfilling. Ten is all wrapped up in the mood and the groove like it’s business. Prepare to lose your fucking mind, these are new levels of feeling good. Not one awkward moment, just making love. Oh my god are you lucky.
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art: The Great Wave off Kanagawa (1829-33) — by Hokusai
© 2017-2021 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed.
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drazzilder · 3 years
Text
A Hellish Encounter
By Drazzilder
Chapter 12: Love
This chapter is rated 18+/NSFW
Depictions of M/M sex, oral sex, and anal sex
You couldn’t get home soon enough as the two of you could barely keep your hands off each other. Enji even ran 3 red lights in order to get home faster. The sun just set as you pull up in the driveway. Enji was so excited/nervous that he struggled get to key in the lock. Once the door closed, you were all over one another. He slammed you against a wall as he pressed his whole body on you. The cologne he is wearing is driving you insane as it mixes with his natural sent. You were getting weak at the knees from the onslaught of his body and lips. Before, you always took things slow, but now you are practically eating each other as your lips collide. Not an inch of space was between the both of you as you continue kissing. Your one hand grabs his lower back as the other runs through his hair. He has a forceful grip around your chest as you kiss for what feels like forever.
After some time, you break the kiss and look him right on the eyes, those turquoise eyes of his making your heart flutter. In the heat the moment you say: “I love you, Enji.” The words you spoke broke his concentration on you.
“That was out of nowhere.”
“Well, I mean it, I don’t think I have ever fallen in love with someone like this before. I mean with Adam, I did like him, and loved him as a friend but I see you and I growing old together, sharing laughs and sorrows. I know it’s all of a sudden but I really do love you. I’m sorry if it’s too soon for you.”
“Well, I don’t know if I am ready to say it yet but I’m glad you said it.”
“I hope I didn’t ruin the mood but I felt like I had to say something.”
“You didn’t ruin anything….” he says as he begins kissing you again, this time taking it slower. Each kiss on your face deliberate and gentle. You can’t help but moan as he is driving you wild, bucking and writhing in his arms as your body wants more.  He starts to lead to towards the bedroom as you are entangled with one another. After managing to find the door, he slams it open and you quickly find yourself on the bed. Looking up, the big man himself starts stripping at the end of the bed as you watch with baited breath. He takes his time, letting you savor the moment. The shirt is the first thing to come off, button by button, revealing that magnificent upper body of his. The pants come down next, as he turns around so you get the full view. You have to stop yourself from grabbing that delicious ass of his. You have seen him in his underwear practically every night but things are a little bit different now. There is a nice outline forming on his boxer briefs. He winks at you as he slowly lowers his underwear with both thumbs in the waistband. That’s when you see what you have been waiting for. Everything about Enji was big, but my god, that cock of his was something else: close to 9 inches long and 2 inches wide. You hold your breath as you gaze upon Enji’s full body.
“You like what you see, boy?”
“Oh, yes. I’m ready.”
“You’re what?”
“God Enji, fuck me already.”
“Good, but your clothes are in the way. Take them off.” he growls
You strip down as quickly as you can, not wanting to slow the momentum. It’s difficult to get your pants off with your ragging erection but you manage. When you get to your underwear, you’re at the bed of the bed when end Enji stops you.
“Before we go any further, I want you to know I never want to hurt you. If anything gets too much, I want you to stop me. The safe word is ‘butternut’. You feel even the littlest bit uncomfortable, stop me. Ok?”
“I don’t think I will need it but it makes me feel safe, thank you.”
“Good, now get ready!”
He grabs the waistband of your underwear and rips them off of you in one swift motion. He smiles at what he sees. You’re not as big as him, but 6 inches is nothing to scoff at. Your both start embracing each other again, but this time you start grinding against this thigh, aching for relief. He notices this and pushes you down on the bed.
“I see someone is eager, how about I help you out a bit.”
He grabs your dick with one hand and begins pumping up and down slowly. You’re not small yourself but his massive hand practically covers the whole thing. You eventually start moving your hips in motion with his hand you’re getting close. He releases and you’re staring at him again.
“Don’t get too eager, we are just getting started.”
He flips you over and moves over to the nightstand, pulling out a bottle of lube. He gently squeezes a generous amount in his left hand and begins to warm is up with his quirk. With a smirk, he begins making circles around your rim, toying with you. Even though you have mentally prepared yourself, your body still tenses up when he starts to enter you with his index finger.
“For someone who has sex before, you’re awfully tight. It’s going to take at least 3 fingers to make sure your loose enough.”
“It’s been over 4 years since I got any, and you know an awful amount about anal sex for being a first timer.”
“Well, I do my research.” He says as he shifts his hand.
“Mmhmm……oh……ENJI!”
While you two were talking, he has been busy trying to find your buttons. Poking and prodding until he found the spots to drive you wild. Judging by the moans coming from you, he was having no trouble finding them. He then quickly takes his finger out only to be replaced by 2. This time he is taking it slower as you start shaking just enough for him to notice. He leans forward and gives your shoulder a few hot kisses. “Relax, I’ve got you.” He says as he pulls you up on all fours, his hot breath tickling your neck. The shaking subsides long enough for Enji to get his third finger. This time you breathing almost stops but he continues to kiss your back and run his hand through your hair, making sure you’re ok. After a few minutes, he pulls his hand away from your backside and you instinctively back up toward him, wanting more.
“Glad to see your eager again. Get ready.”
His voice almost sounding like a rumble as he puts lube on his shaft. He uses both hands to spread your backside wide. Then he uses hand for bracing, one hand for aiming as he puts his tip at your back door. You stop breathing in anticipation and you know Enji has the biggest grin on his face right now. Slowly, he starts to push himself into you and you moan before not breathing again. He steadies himself to wait for you to relax. This action goes for a few minutes, pushing forward and waiting for you to adjust to his size, always making sure you are ok. The entire time he uses his quirk to massage your backside with his hands, keeping you grounded. Finally, when he is fully in, he leans forwards to give you a kiss on the back of your neck. The action moving him inside of you just the right way to rub against your prostate.
“OH MY GOD!” You scream, but you use all of your will power to hold it in.
“It looks like I found a good spot, are you ok?”
“I….I’ll be fine, just don’t move too much.” You say with heavy breathing. He stays on top of you for a minute or so then slow gets back up. He starts to slowly pull out then he quickly pushes himself back in. You raise your head back in ecstasy as he keeps thrusting in and out. The initial pain starts to turn to pleasure as your moans grow louder with each thrust. His skin starts to warm up as he starts to move faster and faster. The room is filled with the sounds of grunts, moans and skin slapping against each other. Steam starts coming off of his skin as he loses control. You try to match his pace but you’re starting to lose feeling in your legs again. He switches to both hands around your waste to support you.
“Little flame, in or out?”
“In!” you manage to say between your moans.
Not a second later Enji releases inside of you. It’s hot and you feel it filling your insides with every pump of his cock. It continues for what feels like forever but then starts to slow down till nothing is left. That’s when he falls on top of you. You can’t hold his motionless body up and you both land on the bed.
“Enji, you’re crushing me….”
“Sorry, I got so selfish. I didn’t hear you finish.”
“It’s ok.” you say still panting.
“I won’t be happy till you do, now turn over.”
“You’re going to have to do it for me, I lost feeling in in my legs.”
“What?! Are you ok? Why didn’t you say to stop?”
“I’m fine, it was just too good and you know I get weak at the knees when your around me.”
“That’s good to hear.” He says as he rolls you over, positioning your legs so he can see your dick more clearly. With one fell swoop, he takes your whole shaft into his mouth and begins sucking. You’re just long enough to feel the back of his throat as he uses his tongue to great success. His mouth was so hot that it almost feels like you’re on fire but it eventually turns to pleasure. You would have thought he has given head before but you don’t dare ask, you just want him to keep going. He then starts to move his head up and down as uses his lips to create more suction. Every once and a while he lifts fully off with a ‘pop’ sound as he releases your tip. He quickly then goes back all the way down. It doesn’t take long till your feeling hot inside and your about ready to burst.
“Enji, I….I can’t hold it…..” you say through gritted teeth.
All he can do is grunt with your member in his mouth but you understood. You release everything into Enji’s throat as he quickly swallows everything. Once you’re done, he lifts up and crawls on the bed next to you. He wraps those big arms of his around you and kisses your face.
“How is my little flame?”
“That…. that was amazing.”
“I know” he says with a boasting smile “it was great for me too.”
“Uh, Enji, we might have a problem.”
“Hmm?” He tilts his head.
“You finished in me first and I have been on my backside….”
He raises an eyebrow in confusion until he realizes what happened. “Let’s clean up, and I’ll change the sheets.”
He draws a bath and comes back to carry you into the bathroom. Your legs are still numb from everything but you don’t care, you love it when he is carrying you. He manages to get you both in the large tub, him against the back of the tub with you in front of him. He slowly starts to scrub your skin, as if he could hurt you: so gentle and kind with his motions. You two soak in the warm water as you bask in each other’s presence. You rest your head on his chest as he rubs your head. You sit in the bath for a while as you two relax.
“(Y/N)?”
“Yes Enji.”
“I think am now ready to say it.”
“Hmm?” You respond now are looking at him.
“I love you, (Y/N).”
“Really? Why now?”
“I have never felt this way about anyone and I keep going back to how you described love, then I keep going back to thinking about you. You are the only person who has ever wanted to know who I am and to help me as a person. I never would have thought I could have had this feeling of love before. I always thought I was full of hate and anger.”
“I’m glad you finally said it and I know you’re full of so much love and happiness, we just need to find it, together. Oh, and Enji.”
“Yes?”
“I love you too.”
You two kiss a few times before it is time to get ready for bed. Enji quickly changes the sheets as you sit on a chair in the room. He places you in bed and quickly gets under the covers. Even though you’re both still naked at this point, Enji is producing enough heat to keep you both warm.
“You know I’m so glad I helped at the crossing incident.”
“You should be, you saved everyone.”
“Plus, I meet you.” You say giving him a kiss on the cheek.
“Oh, yea.” As he blushes.
Next Chapter
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cassanovancats · 3 years
Text
felicitate. nine.
eight < current > ten
Dec. 24, 2017
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You make yourself comfortable on the rooftop, debating if you should go ahead and text your brother. He would be almost as disappointed as you were; Satoru had taken to calling himself the captain of your ship with Yuta and Toge, even coming up with a nickname that incorporated shortened versions of all three names. You sigh, deciding it’s probably best to not text him. He’s likely already worried about leaving you in charge, no need to add a worry about something that isn’t deadly.
A sudden yell disrupts your thoughts and you jump into position, nocking an arrow and aiming towards the scream. You hitch your breath at the sight: Geto is striding into your school alone, leaving a trail of headless assistants behind him. One of the bodies is familiar and you recognize her as the assistant that gave you chocolate with a bright smile after a mission with unfortunate timing left you covered in curse blood and your own. She didn't flinch or offer pity - just a single chocolate kiss. Now she is covered in gore and blood, her previously pristine white shirt coated with her own brain matter.
You feel your resolve hardens. Geto is a curse-user, a human at his core, but he also is a monster. The arrow flies an accurate course but the man dodges, leaving it to embed itself into the wall instead of his torso. He turns to your rooftop, calling out, “Ah, (y/n)! And here I thought your brother would lock you in a tower.” Geto unleashes a grade-one curse that looks similar to a wolf and sends it after you. He is infuriatingly unbothered by your presence and continues his steady gait into the school grounds.
You start running across the rooftops, jumping over gaps and dodging the curse’s attempts to bite you. The rooftop tiles bite into your hands and knees. It faintly registers that a nail broke when you almost missed a jump, narrowly avoiding falling to the ground.
Satoru didn’t say how long to keep this secret, but you assume now is a good time to give Maki and Yuta a heads-up. You spot Maki stepping away from a classroom, so you run there, drawing the curse after you. On the roof next to where she stands, you plant your feet and turn, suddenly drawing your katana and slicing at the wolf. It draws back, avoiding your attack before lunging suddenly. Its claws sink into your leg. You cry out in pain, falling to your knees. When the curse lunges again, this time aiming for your throat, you fall on your back and thrust your blade into its stomach. You force the blade down its body with a grunt, disemboweling the creature. The teeth around your throat loosen, but the dead weight of the curse dropping on you prevents you from getting up immediately. Guts slide out and onto you and you suppress a gag. You feel a lot like Carrie on prom night.
When you finally stagger to your feet, you see Maki has engaged Geto in a fight that she’s obviously losing. You cry her name and rush to her side. She doesn’t get a chance to acknowledge you as Geto, in one fluid moment, breaks her weapon and sends her flying. She falls to the ground as a ragdoll, bleeding heavily from her side and head. You watch her body land, horrified, before you’re snapped back into the fight rudely.
Geto is now the closest to you he’s been since you were a child, frightened and unable to communicate with the people around you. He feels some long-forgotten sense of pity as he slides the blade of his knife further into your stomach. “W-wh-?” You look at the handle sticking out of your body curiously, blood starting to leak from the corner of your mouth. The pain hasn’t begun to register but your body understands that you are unable to fight. You faint, missing the entrance of Panda and Toge by a few precious seconds.
When Yuta comes out from the classroom, he isn’t sure what he’s expecting to find. He felt a few earthquakes and thought it best to find you and Maki to wait out any aftershocks together. Yuta was sure it was to be a little awkward after his rejection, but also wanted to be sure you were okay. He didn’t expect to find you covered in blood, the same cute gym clothing you were wearing that morning when he rejected you ruined. A quick glance around and he sees the rest of his classmates, his friends, in similar form. Inumaki is clinging to consciousness.
Geto, the one who grabbed Yuta months earlier, stands surrounded by the bodies, hardly winded. “I truly wanted you to live, Okkotsu, but this is for the future of jujutsu.” Yuta wonders how he can fight this man. How can he protect his friends, the only ones to give him a chance since Rika, when Geto already destroyed the strongest people he knew. He was so, so weak compared to each of them.
Inumaki desperately calls a slurred version of his name and says, “Run away.” The fact that the command does nothing, that Yuta feels nothing, breaks him from his spiral. He summons Rika in a rage.
“I am going to kill you!” He declares. Yuta doesn’t think he has ever felt such anger and despair, the feeling of watching Rika die now multiplied by four.
Geto simply says, “You are going to die.”
-
A sudden pull on your stomach wakes you harshly. “Shit!” Your eyes snap open, to see a sheepish Panda holding the knife that was previously in your stomach. You automatically go to apply pressure on the wound but your hands find Maki’s already there, dressing the wound. “What happened?”
“The fight’s over, but we need to find Yuta,” Maki explains. “He must have healed all of us, but you still had the blade in you. It needed to be removed before you get up. All of us are going to be fine, (y/n), you can rest now.” She helps you to your feet and you cringe looking at your ruined outfit. Maki catches your pout and smiles, glad some things never change.
Toge comes to your side to take Maki’s place as your crutch. You hug him tightly, unable to express in words how relieved you are. He hugs back, equally overwhelmed after seeing what seemed like your corpse. Toge helps you limp along as you all start tracking Yuta’s residuals. Panda clears his throat and asks, “When did this happen?”
“Only a few days ago. Don’t act like you didn’t see this coming,” you explain with an eye-roll.
“No, I totally did. Just curious who won the bet.”
“If we didn’t just fight for our lives, I would kill you.” You four continue to try to have a light conversation until you come upon Yuta’s unconscious body. Toge helps you sit on the ground and you move his head onto your lap, muttering about checking for a concussion. All of you needed medical attention but you were desperate to help any way you could now.
Yuta begins to blink his eyes open and sits up urgently. “Your wounds… Panda! Your arm!” He seems to be working himself into a frenzy. You place a comforting hand on his shoulder as Panda explains that everyone will be okay. Yuta urgently looks over you, trying to determine how much blood was yours, before he seems satisfied.
“Thank you for saving us,” You whisper. His eyes fill with tears and you wonder how scared he must have been. You maintain eye contact, hoping to communicate how much you admire him, before Rika’s jumbled voice makes the both of you jump. Yuta stands, leaving the circle your class formed around him.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Rika,” he says, approaching her.
“What’s wrong?” Maki asks, a little fearful at how resigned Yuta looks.
Yuta hums a little before answering, “In exchange for her power, I promised to go with her.”
“What?” You screech and the suddenness of the yell pains your wound. Your classmates join a chorus of disagreement. Panda and Inumaki both grab fistfuls of his shirt to prevent him from walking any closer to Rika. Instead of her usual retaliation for someone restraining Yuta, her form just falls away to reveal a young girl. Four of you are confused but Yuta just mumbles, “Rika?”
A clapping distracts from the drama. You turn as best you can with a hole in your stomach to see your brother without any eye wear approaching your group. “Congrats. You broke the curse,” he continues to clap and stands next to you.
“Who’re you?” Yuta and Maki ask, causing you to snort before you groan at the pain.
Your brother pouts before replying, “Everyone’s favorite good-looking Gojo-sensei. Do you not see the sibling resemblance?” He gestures between your face and his, before carefully putting you on his back. He doesn’t even flinch at the grime covering you transferring onto him as well, relieved to see you awake and alert. You rest your chin on his shoulder and listen to him explain.
“I thought Yuta was interesting, so I looked into his lineage. Apparently, you’re a descendant of Michizane Sugawara. So, super-distant, but we’re relatives!” You groan and hide your face in Satoru’s neck; the teasing to come will be unbearable.
Your classmates look dumbfounded at the information while Yuta just goes, “Who?”
“One of Japan’s big three vengeful spirits.”
“A big-shot sorcerer.”
“Tuna.”
“The annoying side of the family,” you add.
Your brother takes back control of the conversation. “Yuta, you’re right. Rika isn’t cursing you, you cursed her. When the curser severs the bond tying servant to master and the cursed doesn’t desire punishment, the curse is broken. Though it seems you figured that out by yourself.” He gestures at the little girl and Yuta.
“Oh my god,” Yuta collapses in tears. “It’s all my fault…. Hurting so many people, Geto coming after me, it’s all my - all my -” He begins to hyperventilate. Inumaki takes a step to comfort him, but before he can, Rika approaches and hugs his trembling form.
“Thank you, Yuta. For giving me time and letting me be by your side. I’ve been happier these past six years than I ever was alive. Good-bye, be well. And don’t come over too soon, ‘kay?” She gives a bright smile, toothy and pure as she dissolves into bright ashes. Yuta stares at where she stood, long after all the ashes disappeared and everyone else walked away.
“See you,” He says to himself, before getting up to follow his friends to Doctor Ieiri.
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taramikealson · 3 years
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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.”
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hoboal87 · 3 years
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Don’t Speak, Part 2
Title: Don’t Speak, Part 2
Pairings: au!Dark!John x Reader, au!Dark!Sam x Reader, au!Dark!Sam x Reader x au!Dark!Dean, Sam x Dean
Word Count: 2.1k+
Summary: Y/N’s nightmare is only just beginning.
Warnings: Non-Con/Rape, angst, daddy kink, breeding kink, Wincest, forced orgasms, forced voyeurism, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, knife play, breath play, humiliation, hints of Stockholm Syndrome.
A/N: I have embraced the darkness! I’d like to thank @cockslut-padalecki and @negans-lucille-tblr for encouraging me to write outside my comfort zone and the product is this filth.
A/N 2: This is more plot than I intended, but there is plenty of smut! 18+ only
TW: Non-Con/Rape - There is nothing about this that is consensual in any way. Please, READ THE WARNINGS AND DO NOT READ if you feel that it will offend and/or trigger you. Don’t like? Feel free to move along.
No Beta all mistakes are mine. (I still have tense issues, I’m aware.)
My Full Masterlist
Part One
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The eldest Winchester wasn't lying, and a small part of you is glad that Sam and Dean had taken you first. John is as long as Sam and as thick as Dean, and every pump of his cock feels like it's splitting you in half. John releases you completely from your bindings and you use what strength you can to fight back against him. You claw at him, but he doesn't stop, if anything, he seems to enjoy the struggle you're putting up.
"That's it darlin’," he whispers, but there’s no sincerity behind his words. “The more you fight, the longer I’m gonna hold off. Maybe let the boys have a go at you again,” he smirks.
He turns your head so that Sam and Dean are back in your line of sight. Neither of them are paying any attention to your or their father, instead, Dean has Sam bent over a chaise, and all you can make out are their grunts as Dean’s hips slam against Sam’s ass.
Your eyes widen in horror at the sight of the brothers, John chuckles, and when you try to turn away, his hand slaps across your face.
“I didn’t tell you that you could look away, did I, darlin’?” He scolds you, pulling his cock out and maneuvering you onto your stomach. “What was that?” He asks, keeping one hand firmly on your face, forcing you to continue watching the brothers.
“N-no,” you squeak as he impales you on his hard cock again.
“No, what, darlin’?” He leans forward, his breath hot on your cheek.
“No, sir.” You whimper, but it was clearly not what John wanted to hear, as his free hand moved around your neck, cutting off your air supply, all the while, you can feel the coil tightening once again. It’s humiliating; how many times you’ve come no matter how hard you fight against your body, the Winchesters are relentlessly ripping orgasm after orgasm out of you. He squeezes tighter, and you wrack your brain trying to think of what he wants to hear.
“D-daddy,” you murmur, your eyes never leaving Sam and Dean. John removes his hands from your face and neck, and instead cages you underneath him.
“That’s right, darlin’, I’m your daddy now,” he licks your ear, and a shiver runs through you. He lifts your hips, and forces you to spread your legs as far as you can. All the while keeping his fast and brutal pace. “Keep watching my boys, see how special their love is.”
Even with your obscured vision, you can see Dean snaking his hand underneath Sam’s hips. Sam lets out low fuck, and from what you saw you earlier you can assume that Dean is stroking his cock.
You don’t move and try not to make any sounds at all. John, like his sons, enjoyed the fight, and you try to save some of your dignity by not giving into them so easily.
Your body goes limp as John continues thrusting, grunting and groaning as you hope he’s nearing his own completion. You close your eyes briefly, but a sharp sting of John’s palm lands on your ass, causes you to open them and focus on the brothers.
“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean groans. His arm moves faster, and Sam whines, arching back, so that he is flush against Dean’s chest. You get a full view of Sam’s cock, covered mostly by Dean’s hand.
“Keep watching,” John orders as his hips begin to stutter.
“Dean,” Sam whines as ropes of cum land on the chaise, and Dean gives a half-dozen thrusts before stilling.
John holds himself deep inside you, seemingly cumming over and over again inside you, and you can feel it leaking out of you when he pulls away. As he did when he first entered the room, he chuckles at the sight, and you feel his fingers brush against your abused pussy.
You fear John will scope up the remnants and force you to swallow his juices as he did before, but instead he pushes them back into your cunt.
“Can’t waste Daddy’s cum, Y/N,” he tsks, “how else are we gonna put a son in you?” John grabs a corner of the silk sheets, and wipes off his cock, his eyes never leaving you as you remain frozen. “Clean her up and dress her,” John orders as he pulls on his trousers, Sam and Dean stepping up behind him. “Our carriage arrives in an hour.”
“Yes, sir,” the brothers answer in unison.
“See if one of the whores downstairs can do something about her face. Don’t want the priest to get the wrong idea,” John lets out a low, breathy chuckle. “And make a decision about which one of you is gonna marry the slut.”
“Sir,” Dean steps forward. “We were thinking–”
“No,” John hisses seemingly knowing what the unasked question is going to be. “The deal was I let you and your brother fuck around, on the condition that one of you gets a wife and produces an heir.” The thought of any of the men putting a child in you makes your stomach turn, and you can’t help but vomit at the thought. None of the Winchesters seem to notice, or if they do, they don’t care.
“A crueler father would’ve found you a bride the minute you were eligible,” John continues, only stopping to give you a momentary glance. “People back home are starting to question why neither of you have married yet. I don’t care which one of you takes the bitch on, or who the child belongs to, one of you is getting married before we leave London. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Dean answers for both brothers.
John finishes redressing, and stalks away. The brothers share a cursory glance, before moving towards you. You flinch at their touches, even though they are softer and more delicate than before. You curl into yourself, helpless to do anything.
Your wrists are bruised where you were once bound, your pussy throbs from the multiple intrusions, and to your embarrassment, you’re still leaking John’s cum.
Dean disappears for a moment, and you watch as Sam's eyes roam your body, like you're a piece of meat, and he’s as hungry as he was before. You try to cover yourself, not that it really mattered, the brothers had already seen more of you than you had of yourself.
You bring your knees to your chest, and wrap your arms around them, foolishly thinking that it could deter either brother from taking you again.
Dean appears with a modest dress, it wasn’t the one you had worn to the party, but you figured they’d ripped it apart while you were unconscious. Dean hands the dress off to Sam, and instructs him to help you dress while he finds someone to work on the state of your hair and face. Sam huffs at the order, but complies, pulling Dean into a raw and passionate kiss.
Dean mumbles something about later, and leaves you and Sam alone in the strange bedchamber. Sam grabs at your ankles, and though you know you have little to no chance of being able to fight him off, you throw all of your weight into your free leg aiming for his gut.
You feel the sole of your foot connect with his trim and taut stomach, and Sam doubles over. You take the opportunity to make for the doorway, modesty be damned, you needed to get away from the Winchesters before you forcibly married into their family and made nothing more than a broodmare.
Each step you take is like walking on needles, but you push through the pain as best you can, screaming out for help. The door’s nearly within your reach when everything goes black.
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You wake up in the restraints again, now with Sam leaning over your body, the silver blade that was once in Dean’s possession now sliding across your chest.
“Bad idea, Y/N,” Sam grumbles, and you pull against your bindings. “Gonna have to teach you a lesson now.” Sam puts more pressure on the blade, enough to draw blood, and most likely scar your body. You wince as he continues, holding back your tears as long as you can, until he begins rutting against you, his cock getting hard through his trousers as he rubs against your naked pussy.
He slides his trousers down, just enough to expose his hardening cock, and you attempt to bring your legs together, trying to do something– anything to keep him from fucking you again. Sam brings the blade to your neck, and he doesn’t need to say anything for you to understand what will happen if you don’t cooperate.
“Lucky you're still filled with my father’s cum,” he says softly, “won’t have to get you ready for me.”
You let out a silent scream as Sam pushes inside. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust, instead, he starts moving in long and hard thrusts, unlike before, where the brothers were getting amusement out of your unwanted arousal, this was Sam’s way of showing you that he was in complete control.
Sam grunts over you, and brings his head down to where he had drawn blood just minutes before, and laps up at the crimson liquid. He places bruising kisses upon your lips, and gnaws at your shoulders, breaking the skin.
“You’ll make such a good wife, Y/N,” he murmurs in your ear, as if you are supposed to take it as a compliment. “Once Dean and I fuck the disobedience out of you, you’ll be perfect,” Sam pants over you, and you swallow thickly at his words. “Can’t wait to see you round with our son.”
Bile fills your throat again at the mention of being forced to carry a child that you do not want. Treacherous tears leave your eyes before you can stop them, and you focus your gaze on the ceiling, hoping and praying that Sam will finish soon.
“Just couldn’t resist taking her again, couldja Sammy?” Dean’s voice fills the bedroom again. “I guess this means she’ll be Mrs. Sam Winchester,” Dean approaches the bed, and sits on the edge.
He watches intently as Sam continues to abuse your cunt before moving behind you. Sam stops as Dean situates himself behind you, propping you against him. The atmosphere changes, and you realize that Sam is no longer the one in charge, Dean is.
“Sammy being good to you, sweetheart?” He murmurs into your ear, and when you don’t respond Dean tuts at Sam. “Let her cum, Sammy.”
“She tried to leave,” Sam argues, and Dean lets his hands roam over your body.
“Leave? Bad idea, sweetheart,” one of Dean’s hands cups your breast, while the other makes it way down your stomach, and reaches your swollen bud.
You moan unwillingly when Dean begins toying with you, building an orgasm, that you hate to admit you want. Sam’s thrusts become more deliberate, now that Dean’s here, Sam seems to want to please him by making you cum on his cock.
You can feel Dean hardening beneath you, but he makes no effort to use you for his own pleasure.
Sam leans over you, and for a moment, you think he might kiss you, but instead, he presses his lips against Deans. Though you’re practically face-to-face, Sam’s focus is no longer on you, but on his brother.
Dean continues to swipe at your bundle of nerves, and when he commands it, you cum hard, coating Sam’s cock with your arousal.
Everything after that is a blur, you remember the brothers dressing you, a woman entering and making you look “presentable,” before quickly leaving. You’re led to a room where John and a priest stand quietly.
You tried to protest, but John explained to the priest that you’d been ill, and that your parents had already given their blessing for you to marry. The priest bought the story, not that it surprised you, a woman’s word held nothing over a man’s.
John reached over to hug you, a seemingly loving gesture to anyone unaware of his true nature. He not-so-subtly reminded you that you no longer were a lady of the court, but you’d be the property of him and his sons. You nod, the only thing you can do, and smile slightly, and whispers of good girl, fill your ears as he places a gentle kiss on your forehead.
A few hours later, you’re boarding a ship bound for America, a trip that would take no less than a month. The Queen must’ve given the Winchesters more money than you could ever imagine, as the four of you were the only passengers. You’re greeted by a dark-haired, blue-eyed man.
“Ma’am,” he bows his head slightly, and whether it be intentional or not, reminds you of your new role.
Mrs. Winchester.
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Part Three
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levis-hazelnut · 3 years
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Levi x Reader Smile For Me
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Summary: you were found curled up outside HQ, basically on the brink of death. However, Levi finds you and takes you to the infirmary. To his surprise, Erwin enlists you as a scout.
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Levi's POV "Levi, where's your squad?" Commander Eyebro-- I mean, Erwin asked. "I don't know. Probably picking each other's noses or some sh*t like that." "Go get them. We need to go get supplies." I sighed, walking away to look for my squad of idiots, who I didn't want to bring along since they would just mess around. I went into the castle, hearing loud chatter and laughter so I went towards the source. Opening the door to the mess hall, I find them sitting around a table. "What the hell are you guys doing? I told you to be at the stables after breakfast." "We were playing truth or dare." "Get your a*ses outside." They all followed me in silence; I'm guessing it was because they didn't want to irritate me any further. All of us got on our horses, me and Erwin at the front, and we were about to leave until we saw something the size of a human scrunched up in a ball. I jumped off of my horse and crouched down as I frowned. I scrunched my nose up in disgust, brushing the unruly hair from their face and I saw (E/C) eyes half-open, staring up at me. I was able to see the bones under her skin on her face, arms and legs, while the rest of her body was covered by a scruffy dress. She looked as if she was on the brink of death, pale and weak, and she seemed to have trouble to breathe. I didn't think she would be able to walk in this state, or maybe even stay alive for a few more days. 
When I stood up and looked at Erwin, he had just leapt off from his horse and neared me.
"What's wrong?" "This girl looks like she's going to die anytime soon." "Let's take her to the infirmary." I nodded and went back to the girl, crouching down again and scooping her up to carry her to the infirmary, which wasn't far. I asked them to take my horse back to the stables before they left to get supplies without me. Normal POV You laid on the most comfortable bed you've ever been on. Out of a window, you could see the bright, azure blanket illuminated by the radiant sun.
Before you had slept, for however long, you weren't able to breathe properly but now you were able to with ease. Though you felt a lot better than before, your stomach was still growling for some food. You brushed your hand over your stomach, feeling the soft and clean clothes you had on your body. The door opened, making your eyes to flit there and you gripped the pristine sheets, terrified to find someone walking in. He had blonde hair, blue orbs that radiated a warmth that made you feel comfortable. He gave you a smile and approached you. You've never seen him before, but he's acting so casually around you. "Do you feel better?" You stayed silent, not wanting to talk to this mysterious man even though he seems benign. "I'm guessing you're hungry after sleeping for two days." He passed you a tray of food, your eyes beaming at the amount there was. Almost immediately, you picked up the spoon and popped a bit of food into your mouth. "Do you like it?" he asked to which you shyly nodded. "One of my men made it. And I don't think he'll make it again, so you're lucky." "Thank you..." you trailed off, wanting to know his name. "Erwin." "Thank you, Erwin," you said quietly. "If you can move, there's a room for you. I'm going to let you stay here and enlist you as a scout." As you listened to what he was saying, you scoffed the food down. You had a bit of food on the corner of your mouth which Erwin wiped with a tissue as he subconsciously smiled. "What's your name?" "...I don't have one..." You stopped eating and kept your eyes on the plate. "Where's your family?" "I don't know..." The blonde had a slight crease in between his eyebrows before he asked another question. "Do you have a home?" "No." "Well, you can call this place home now," he grinned, trying to get a smile on your face, but it didn't work. "If you have any questions or uncertainties about anything, come to me." You gave a mere nod as he got up to leave, taking the tray from your lap since it appeared as if you weren't that hungry anymore.
No place has felt like a home to you, but this place does, you felt so comfortable. After a while of staring into space, a knock on the door snapped you out of your trance. A man you recognised came in, but you couldn't remember where you've seen him. "How are you feeling?" Silence. "So, you're just going to ignore the person that rescued you from death?" His tone had a bite to it, however, you seemed unfazed by his sharp character. That's where you saw him; he was the one who picked you up and brought you here before you would slowly die away. His grey orbs before were pooled with concern then, but now, they hold no emotion whatsoever. He took slow steps towards your bed. "Thank you for saving me. I'm in your debt." "Tch. I didn't save you so I could have something in return." He crossed his arms. "Anyway, Erwin asked me to take you to your room." Slowly getting up, you noticed that you weren't feeling weak anymore and you were able to stand properly without feeling dizzy. Your bare feet padded against the floor, following the raven whose name you have yet to learn. Catching up to him, you walked beside him as you fiddled with your fingers. "Why are you nervous?" he suddenly questioned. You slightly shrugged as a small blush crawled onto your cheeks. "You aren't much of a talker, are you? Well, that's a good thing because I don't want another brat giving me a headache." Brat? He's being harsh with the person he saved and someone he barely knows, and he thinks he can call you a brat? Whatever, it's not like you're going to stand up for yourself. And it’s not the worst treatment that you’ve been given. "When we get to your room, have a shower. You smell like sh*t." You understand that you would stink and you aren't in the cleanest state, but does he have to be so critical? Upon reaching your room, he fished a key out of his pocket to unlock the door, allowing you to step inside as he passed you the key, which you took from his hand, your fingers skimming his which he clicked his tongue to. "Be ready in eight minutes. I'm taking you to Erwin's office." And with that, he left. Why was he so specific about the time? ~/~ "Do you have any experience with fighting?" You shook your head meekly as you sat on a chair on the other side of Erwin's desk, fidgeting with your hands which were slightly damp with sweat. You've never seen these people until two days ago, or even an hour ago, so you were afraid of these new people. Can you trust them? "What were you doing before you stumbled across this place?" "I-I was homeless. I w-would eat the leftovers of what people threw out and people b-beat me up for no reason. I wasn't able to make any friends and I n-never knew my family. I d-d-don't even know my name." Erwin stood up with an expression of sympathy and went towards you, crouching by your chair and whispered, "You don't need to be frightened here. None of us will beat you up and you will have your own room. You won't need to eat leftovers. Don't worry. You're safe here." Not able to hold back anymore, he hugged you, leaving you and the other male in the room in surprise. "And I'll give you a name." After being in thought, he spoke, "... How about (Y/N)? Do you like it?" "Yes," you replied, almost as if you mouthed the word. "(Y/N) it is. And I don't know if you already know or not, but this is Levi. You can trust us if you don't trust anyone else." He stood back up. You nodded, getting up to leave. "And whenever you're ready to start training, let me know." "Can I start tomorrow?" "... Sure. But don't you think it's a bit too soon. You just recovered from a severe illness." "It's fine." "If that's what you want." You left his office, gently closing the door behind you as you made your way back to your room. "Erwin?" Levi uttered. "Yes?" "Why are you being so gentle with that girl? This isn't a f*cking fairytale where she gets pampered by you. This is a military base, Erwin. She's a freeloader with you treating her like that. No one here takes it easy." "That's enough, Levi. I'm not going to let her take it easy, all my soldiers are treated the same way." "Explain the way you hugged her then." "I was simply comforting her. And I don't why you're complaining, you're the one who brought her here." "It was just so she could be brought back to health. I didn't think you would enlist her as a scout. She has no experience with fighting. What potential does she have?" "A lot. You are dismissed, Levi." Levi clicked his tongue and exited the office. He didn't want another brat to look out for. He just hoped that Erwin would be in command of you instead of him. You better not cause any trouble for him. ~/~ You thrust your fist forward, attempting to punch Erwin but you never liked hurting people so it was a light blow. He let out a light chuckle, shaking his head. "(Y/N), don't be scared to punch me. This is part of your training." You went into an awkward fighting stance which he fixed for you, telling you what to do. You got ready to punch him again and this time, it was stronger but he could tell you weren't putting all your strength into it. "Again." You took a moment to fix your posture before throwing a surprise punch to his stomach. But unfortunately, he saw it coming and made a cross with his arms, nearly stumbling back but he kept his balance. You lifted your leg, kicking it into his side where he wasn't able to block it. He smirked, seeing how you were able to get a hit on him. "Okay. I'm going to attack you and you need to defend yourself now." You nodded, getting ready for any attacks that would be coming your way. He threw his fist at your jaw, knocking your head back. Straight after, he punched you a couple of times at your stomach, causing you to cough up some spit as you bent down, too weak to stand. "Get up." You got up unsteadily, complying to his order. "Defend yourself." For another hour, you trained with Erwin until you were too exhausted to carry on. By the time you stopped, the sun was setting as a wind blew over you, cooling you down after your training. Your skin was drenched in sweat and stained by mud and dirt which you were going to go wash off. "Same time tomorrow." "Okay." You reached your room, stripping your clothes off your body and stepping into the raining water, steam dispersing from the shower. You scrubbed all the grime from your body and washed out the sweat in your hair before grabbing a towel to dry all the water that remained on your flesh before slipping on a fresh uniform.
After, you went to the mess hall for dinner, getting some food and sitting down on an empty table, silently eating your meal, desiring the food that was specially made for you a few days ago. "Why don't you sit with the others?" You looked up, seeing Erwin holding a plate and a smile on his face. You faced the table again, shaking your head. The blonde sighed and sat down opposite you, joining you for dinner.
Levi looked over at you two, thinking, Why is she so special to Eyebrows? He's acting as if he's her dad or some sh*t like that. Erwin tried to get you to speak but you would only say a few words since you were shy and there wasn't really anything you could talk about - he basically already knows everything about you for your life feels like it didn't even start until you came here.
Apart from Erwin, Levi, and someone else called Hanji, you haven’t spoken to anyone else. She's a bit too energetic for your taste, but she has a friendly nature. And even though you speak to them, it's only a few words like 'yes', 'okay', 'thank you'. You don't speak to them as they would speak to each other. You try to avoid interacting with anyone but Erwin always seems to get you to talk, even if it's one word. ~/~ Pinning Erwin’s arms over his head, you straddled his legs, breathing heavily as you wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. He smiled, glad to see that you have improved significantly over the past month. You were one of the best scouts he's seen develop and you could maybe even be one of the best scouts in the regiment after you train some more. Now, he can show Levi the potential he saw in you. "Well done, (Y/N)." "Is this what you call training?" a voice inquired to which you looked up to. Blushing, you abruptly got off of Erwin, allowing him to stand up as he dusted off his clothes. You gazed at the ground as the blonde cleared his throat, facing Levi who had his arms crossed over his chest. "I never knew you were the submissive type, Eyebrows." "We were training and I can tell you that (Y/N) is better than you think." "Better at what exactly?" He arched an eyebrow. "Fighting. Stop thinking like that." "Whatever." The raven walked away with the roll of his eyes. "Have a shower and go to the mess hall." "Okay." "And you're training with me is over. I'm going to put you in a squad." You were just getting comfortable with Erwin and now, you're going to have to join a squad of new people you've never even spoken to. Oh, well, it's better than living on the streets. You gave him a nod and strolled back to your room, getting stopped by two young boys, whose names were Eren and Jean. "You've been here for nearly a month weeks, but you haven't spoken to me or anyone else." "Jean, leave her alone." "Why's she so quiet?" "It's a miracle she is," a monotone voice stated from behind you, and you knew who it was. "Both of you, go. Let her go to her room because she needs a shower." Again, he came with the usual criticism. At least, it got those boys to leave you alone as you carried on your journey to your room. ~/~ Over the year, you have become one of the best scouts, joining Levi's squad who had no objection because you still don't talk much and you won't give him a headache like the others. And maybe there's another reason... "Oh, come on, (Y/N)! Take it easy on me!" Eren complained after you had knocked him to the ground with two punches and a kick. You shook your head, putting your jacket on, which you took off to spar with Eren who thought he could beat you after he made a bet with Jean. You went off into the building, getting stopped as soon as you entered. "Cadet Smith," Levi, who was watching you spar, called. (A/N: btw I chose Smith since Erwin took you in as his daughter and you never had a surname before). You turned around and shyly saluted, avoiding eye contact. It could be true that you may have developed feelings for the Corporal over time. He might have been cruel to you at the start, but then he started to be nice to you, well, it's his version of being nice and you think he's only kind to you because Erwin told him to. "I told you that you don't need to salute. Put your arm down." You let your arm hang by your side, still standing there timidly as you could feel his gaze burn into you. When you felt an arm rest around your shoulders, you averted your eyes from the floor, soon realising who it was, relaxing your tensed shoulders. "Is Levi being rude to you again?" Erwin asked. "I was never rude to her," Levi scowled. "You always seemed to frown whenever she was around." "Tch. Why are you here?" "I need to speak to (Y/N)." "I was going to talk to her." "You can in five minutes." Levi clicked his tongue with a roll of his eyes. Why did Erwin have to ruin the opportunity for him to talk to you? All Levi wants to do is hear you say full sentences, see a smile on your face and make you happy because frankly, you aren't/don't do anything of those things and you deserve to be happy, in Levi's opinion. But that blonde man comes in and lets the chance for that to happen slip. Yeah, Erwin may be trying to get you positive as well, but Levi wants to do that before anyone else does. Somehow, it makes him upset to see you gloomy and he wants to fix that. "I'll talk to Erwin first," you softly spoke. Damn, he just wants to hear more of that delicate voice you own. "You like him, don't you?" the Commander whispered once you were out of hearing distance of Levi. "What?" "You like Levi." "W-w-why would I?" "I don't know. I'm not the one who likes him." He ruffled your hair with a smile. "You can tell me anything, I'll keep it between us. "... Yes, I do," you admitted. "Okay. You can go to him now." With a pink hue stained on your face, you made your way to Levi’s office, accidentally stepping sinde without knocking. But he didn't seem to mind when he saw it was you. "Bring me tea," was the only thing he said before dismissing you. You merely nodded, heading for the kitchen as Levi continued with the paperwork. You boiled the water and reached for a mug before pouring it inside the porcelain that had a teabag. You stirred it and let the flavours of the tea infuse the water before picking it up from the surface and went towards his office, meekly knocking on the wooden door. Upon hearing a 'come in', you opened the door and stepped in, closing the door behind you. You placed the cup on his desk, where there was a space free, and stood there silently. "Why are you just standing there? Sit down." Hesitantly, you sat down in the chair opposite him as he took a sip of the tea and you noticed the slight surprise on his visage. "This tea is really good." "Thank you." You blushed and looked down at your hands. He opened a drawer and pulled out a small jar. He took the lid off, showing some cookies that looked appealing to you. "Help yourself. I made them." You were confused; why was he complimenting you? Why was he giving you his homemade cookies? Why was he making small talk which he hates so much? Why is he being so casual? What did he want to talk to you about? What's going on? "Sir?" "Levi," he corrected you. "I already told you that you don't have to address me formally when you're speaking to me alone." "Why are you doing this?" "Tch. Just appreciate that I'm treating you like this." "But why are you?" "..." Silence settled in the room. You didn't want to ask him any more questions since it may infuriate him and he'll probably kick you out, which you don't want to happen. He continued with his work, acting as if he was ignoring your presence. Tch. Why can't I just say it? It's not like she's one of those people who will shun me out of their life. Why do I hesitate? Do I fear rejection? No, of course not. What is it? I just want to see her smile. See a smile enhance her beauty. See her happy. But how the hell is that possible in this world? "(Y/N)Ilikeyou," he confessed quickly and quietly, making it difficult for you to apprehend what he said.     "Sorry?" "Damn it! I like--!" "Shorty!!!" His door slammed open. "What the f*ck do you want?" "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt your date," the brunette grinned as he rolled his eyes. "It isn't a date," he growled. "What do you want?" "I have some more paperwork for you." This is what you barged in here for, you idiot? "Okay. Get out." "Have fun~!" she creepily smirked and closed the door, leaving you two alone again. "You were saying something...?" you inquired. Levi huffed, running a hand through his charcoal locks. "I've been wanting to tell you that I like you," he muttered. Did you hear him right? "Pardon?" "You heard what I f*cking said." "You... like me?" "Tch. Just get out if you have nothing to say." He never even glanced at you. "... I like you, too," you barely murmured. Slightly surprised, his orbs immediately shot to meet yours. He stood up and tipped your head up with his fingers, placing a kiss on your lips, causing you to become a blushing mess. You could taste the tea he previously had and you had to admit, it did taste pretty good. Levi pulled away and gave you the first smile you've seen. "Can you please smile for me?" he whispered, cupping your cheek and brushing his thumb on your skin. Your eyes fluttered away from his steel ones, now pooling with affection and warmth. He tilted your head so you could look at him again. "A woman like you shouldn't be so downhearted." He pressed his lips against yours again for a more passionate kiss. You lidded your eyes, moulding your lips with his as you felt a smile tug at your lips. Once your lips tore away from his, you were still smiling with gleaming orbs gazing up at him. "Thank you." He leaned his forehead against yours, feeling content to see a smile grace your beautiful features.
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(Re)spite
Summary: Hathe and Emet-Selch needed a break.
For Hathe, it was to preserve her energy and ease her nerves before ascending The Ladder for the daunting task of putting an end of Vauthry.
As for Emet-Selch?
He just needed for the glint of that painfully familiar shard to stop tormenting him so.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: WoL!OC/Emet-Selch
Continuation to “Mea Culpa”
BEEP BEEP SAD GRANDPA SEXINGZ ON THE WAY !!!
THANKS SO MUCH TO MY LOVELY COMMISSIONER FOR THIS BLESSEDLY ANGSTY OPPORTUNITY!!!
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It just wasn’t the same.
There was a time when Emet-Selch set his eyes upon the Warrior of Light as something more than just a pawn in his plan, more than a fascinating subject in his observation of the mortals within the First.
An era long lost, but one he yearned so dearly to return to--it was during those blessed bygone days when he mockingly called out to the savior of the realm as not “hero”, but Azem.
As much as he wanted to deny it, he preferred truth over delusion.
The shard of his beloved Azem was here, lingering within the possession of the Warrior of Light.
Hathe.
But now, as he found himself lingering around the proximity of The Ladder in the mortals’ ongoing efforts to thwart Vauthry’s plans while the Kholusian sun mercilessly bore down upon him, his eyes were not softened with affection as he gazed towards her, but fixed in a scrutinizing stare.
It just wasn’t the same.
Hathe’s aether.
Corrupted cracks had since formed during her adventures in the First, all because of her misplaced faith in the Crystal Exarch.
Honestly, for all the glares and huffs that he received from her, it truly was baffling that she did not do the same to The Crystarium’s leader.
His lips were beginning to form a pout from this biased treatment.
“How are you not boiling in that thing?”
But then his lips curled into a grin as his gaze shifted to the eyes of the inquiring voice.
Lounging beneath the shade of one of the old workshops was Hathe, who retreated to this distant corner of The Ladder to preserve her energy before the ascent up to Mt. Gulg while the other Scions and the Eulmorans worked together to get the Talos running once again.
Clicking his tongue in a tsk, Emet-Selch threw his arms open wide in overexaggerated faux shock as he remarked, “My, my, hero--how brazen of you.” 
He approached where she sat in a saunter, crossing between the distinct line on the pavement to where the blazing sunlight treaded no further into the cool shade as he continued, his voice donning a playful innocence, “Did you wish for me to strip for you so badly?” Tilting his head, he pressed a thoughtful finger against his cheek with a smirk as he purred, “Have you missed my warmth in your bed that much?”
A roll of her eye and a sigh out of her painted lips.
“I should have just stayed quiet and enjoyed the peace.” Shaking her head, her arms folded over her chest as she reclined further back against the wall. Her eyes shut, hoping he would take this as cue to leave her alone.
But the sudden presence that appeared right by her side entailed otherwise.
As did him crouching down, a silent affirmation of his intentions to stay.
Not even the sensation of gloved fingertips cradling her chin had her look towards him, let alone fluttering her eyelid open to perceive his existence.
“Oh come now, you act like my presence hasn’t enriched your life for the better--”
He drew closer to her.
“--truly, wouldn’t you prefer I over the Exarch?”
The heat of his breath fanning over her ear never failed to make her shudder, a sensation that she was ever reluctant to enjoy.
She had a feeling as to where this was going. Though her better judgment would have her shoo him away before matters progressed further--especially given their relatively close proximity to the rest of the Scions and the others--it was either indulging in pleasure or quietly stew in thought over both the task of sending Vauthry crashing down while dealing with the Light that was poisoning her aether.
But that didn’t mean she was going to be that compliant with the man who was meant to be her nemesis.
And thus her eye opened, the sight of which made him wish she didn’t have to keep that eyepatch of hers on.
Azem’s eyes were among the features he cherished most about her after all.
But as ever the contrast between his lost love to the fragmented soul who stood before him, she huffed in defiance, “I’d prefer you let me relax before I pick up the pieces of your meddling.”
Her tone was soft, but the irritation laced around each word was as prickly as could be.
Emet-Selch only smirked in response.
“Meddling I object to, but letting you relax--” His thumb traced over her lips, caring little for the smudge of rouge that stained the whites of his glove--if anything, he relished it.
Continuing on, he kept her right in his sights as he tsked haughtily, “--honestly, by now you should know to be more direct with me on with your desires, hero.” 
The distance separating them closed further as he drew his thumb away, eliminating the space between his face and hers until their lips were barely an ilm apart as he mused, “Has anything else even come close to having that beautifully battleworn body of yours be at ease like my touch?”
She expected a kiss next.
But ever full of surprises, Emet-Selch only smirked as he teased, “Save for those ruffians who have felt the might of a keg of ale smashed upon their heads during those bratty youthful days of yours, of course.”
Hathe’s eye narrowed with sheer annoyance. “Gods, you really need to shut up.”
And it was with those huffed words that her hands cupped his face as she brought his lips to hers in a kiss.
A kiss for distraction.
Hathe and the tumultuous road that she was due to tread any moment now.
Emet-Selch and a yearning that he never could bring himself to ever relinquish in the days that have passed.
As delightful as it was to indulge in the gorgeously toned physique of the renowned hero during their many trysts in the nights since passed in her personal suite, it was still an utterly peculiar experience for his fingers to roam over physical familiarity with a soul that thought him to be a stranger, an enemy.
Ever more the thorns that had long formed around his heart embedded further and further.
In the end, she was just to be a vessel to enact his life’s work, his purpose to continue and carry on the will of his people.
And yet, he still found himself being so attentive, doting even, to Hathe’s pleasure as he shifted her clothes around--being mindful to not rip, else risk being punched back to The Source as she warned--, his lips kissing over her breasts, his tongue skillfully lapping over her nipples while his gloved fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her pants, seeking to press and caress over her panties.
A warrior like her could handle some roughhousing, as he would often tease while fucking her into the mattress during his numerous late night visits to The Pendants.
But here, in this moment, hidden away in the shade, while she was more eager to peel off his robe, he was more in mind to take his time with her.
Bodies intertwined, an affair meant to exist only in the shadows.
She lied beneath him upon the ground while he eased his cock in and out of her core. Far from pounding but nowhere near delicate, he pumped himself at a lively pace. More kisses than bites were pressed onto her neck, one hand clasped around her waist while the fingers of the other slipped between their bodies to rub slow--and dare he say sweet?--circles against her clit.
It just wasn’t the same.
“What’s with the tenderness?” Hathe murmured breathlessly, her back arching as she continued to find her senses stimulated all the more. Though there was a teasing inflection to her voice, he could hear a layer of pure curiosity at its foundation.
The question genuinely caused Emet-Selch to halt in place.
Even if just for a few seconds.
Only before he snorted, his lips curling into a smirk. “You will never see Ascians as capable of love, do you, hero? Since you insist--”
His hands reinforced their grip on her waist, squeezing tight as he quickened the pace of his thrusts.
She was right, however.
Tenderness, affection, love--those were reserved for Azem.
A shallow copy of the woman he loved most was in no need of such pure and precious joys, especially when she was fated to become a vessel for his plans.
The leading role of his grand theatrical production was to take her place in the showstopping climax of the show, and he was ever so delighted to have front row seats.
And yet, his mouth still sought out to kiss hers nonetheless.
A kiss longing for someone he couldn’t have anymore.
A kiss affectionate for someone he needed for greater purposes.
But as they rode out their orgasms, soon falling into one another in a pleasured heap, he still embraced her close to his chest with a grip that did not want to let go in the slightest, his face hiding into her neck.
So familiar and so far at the same time.
It just wasn’t the same and never would things return to how they would and should have been in a kinder life.
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aressss1 · 3 years
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Through Fire and Ice Chapter 8
(Technoblade x Reader)
Chapter 8
<Prev Chapter | Next Chapter>
~~~~~~
Techno and Ranboo were hard at work on the mine to the library in the stronghold. It had been two weeks since you had requested Techno to come help you out of your panic. When the two of you talked more on the subject, you were careful with your words. He could tell you weren’t trying to offend him when it came to Phil, but Techno picked up on your fear of Philza almost immediately. He wanted you to be comfortable around Phil, but that was obviously going to need some time.
 Even so, when Phil expressed that he wanted to apologize formally, Techno had shaken his head, saying it wasn’t the right time yet. Techno didn’t need to say anything else for Phil to get it. Though he still had a sad look in his eyes. The both of them had seen wars, and what they do to people. They had seen what can throw those people over the edge, and sometimes it wasn’t the war, but the aftermath when the war was branded into their minds. They wouldn’t push you, not until you were ready.
Ranboo had a satchel attached to his side, and every once in a while, Techno would watch him fiddle with it when the bag had gotten in his way. Raising his eyebrow, Techno said nothing, only kept swinging away with his pickaxe. He listened to Ranboo talk, easily throwing his thoughts in here and there. Ranboo was extremely easy to get along with. For that, Techno was grateful.
 “Let me just check our coords.” Ranboo pulled the flap of the satchel up searching around the bag. The thing that caught Techno’s attention was the rough texture of the black egg sitting inside the satchel.
 “Uhhhh, Ranboo?” Techno set the end of the pickaxe down and let some of his weight rest on the handle. “Why are you carrying the egg around?” Ranboo stopped, he nervously grinned, gauging Techno’s reaction.
 “Well, um… You see…” Ranboo fumbled over his words. “This egg,” he hesitated, “likes to follow me?” The piglin hybrid cocked his head to the side, his golden eyes showing confusion.
 “Alright, I believe it.” Techno used the back of his hand to wipe the sweat beading on his forehead away. “You’re always finding out something weird about yourself, so this isn’t really that surprising.” Ranboo’s tail swished behind him, and he visibly relaxed.
 “Wanna see?” Ranboo asked looking eager. “I haven’t been able to show Phil yet, he’s been too busy.”
 Techno nodded, his eyes watching as Ranboo placed the egg down on the ground and went to walk away from the egg. It didn’t take too long before the sound of an enderman teleporting ripped its way through the strip mine, echoing off the walls. There sitting before Ranboo was the egg. Ranboo’s eyes twinkled as he looked back toward Techno. He carefully picked the egg up from the ground, stowing it back into his satchel. The action made Techno chuckle.
 “Ranboo, you remind me of one of those parents who carries their baby in a harness strapped to their chest.” Techno snickered.
 “What can I say, parenthood has snuck up on me.” Ranboo laughed with Techno. It wasn’t too long before they were back at work on the tunnel. They weren’t even halfway to the strong hold. It was going to take a while before they were going to be there. Especially since Phil wanted the library under wraps. They didn’t need anyone trying to sabotage anything.
 Techno let his mind wander back to you, the way you felt in his arms, your scent. Everything about you was alluring to him and he couldn’t understand it. But… He also saw the way you looked at Dream, he heard your giggles to Dreams jokes. He could pretend he didn’t see the light touches the two of you would share. He set his jaw, putting more into his swings of his pickaxe. This had to be some cruel joke on him.
 He rarely liked the company of others, always telling himself to be more social when people were around. Some even snubbed him when he tried. There were a few people that were good to him, he couldn’t deny that. He was fine being alone.
 Techno still lost in his thoughts, kept going, hitting harder and harder with his pickaxe. Ranboo was now looking over at him curiously, the sight making him worry for Techno. He didn’t know how to even approach it. Techno kept mining forward, his breathing becoming labored. He only stopped when his pickaxe had broken, crumbling in his hands. He stood there for just a second heavily breathing, his hands clenched. Why was he so tense?
 “You alright, Tech?” Ranboo leaned in beside Techno. Techno wiped the sweat from his face, his mind flashing to you, your face twisted like the others when they saw him. He hated it. If Dream had his way that’s how it would be. Maybe it was time to put his violent ways to rest? The voices be damned. He didn’t want you to see him as a monster. There was no need to fight anymore, he wanted to settle down.
 --
 Phil grinned at his invention for the ever-growing residential area of The Burrow. His arm was all healed up, after many persuaded him to take a health potion from the doctor. This left him able to do his projects. He had installed multiple elevators so that the people building their houses up high could easily reach ground level. His hands rested on his hips triumphantly as he watched some children playing with the elevators, with their parents watching. Phil tested his invention out one last time, going to the very top of the cavern that was eye level with some of the glowstone hanging down. His elytra hung from his shoulders like a cape.
This was something that he had been wanting to do for a while. He climbed over the railing of the landing that led into people’s homes.
 He allowed himself to look at the ground, his hands grasping the railing. It was a long way down but having flown across a void this was nothing to him. He let himself fall forward, feeling his fingers slip away from the railing, he fell, and he glided through the cavern toward the beacon on the other end. The wind on his face, the excitement in his chest, his emotions were heightened. He let out a triumphant laugh, as the structures around him started whizzing by. People were cheering for him as he zipped past them.
 When he had gotten to the beacon, he let his feet touch down, the adrenaline still pumping. What he wouldn’t give to find a gigantic cave and fly through it. This cavern was only a taste of it. But cavern’s like that were rare. His eyes scanned the area of people busy at work.
 His eyes landed on the newest addition of the cave; a hospital carved into the wall right next to where the old med bay had been just two weeks prior. Wilbur was put in charge of the building plans for this, and it turned out beautiful. It was mostly made of quartz from the nether, and it was nicely accentuated with bricks. The inside was very nice as well, with plenty of room for everyone who needed care. A voice broke him out of his thoughts.
 “Ey Philza! Big man!” Schlatt approached Phil. “How ya been?” The goat hybrid stopped a few feet away from him. He was acting like he hadn’t called Phil out two weeks ago. “I had something I wanted to talk to ya about.” Phil sighed in irritation.
 Before two weeks ago he hadn’t minded Schlatt, now he was just a pain, because people were still treating Phil as a traitor, and those that spewed that hate usually expressed how they wanted Schlatt as the head of The Burrow. Phil would gladly step down, but he never received any official answer from Schlatt. Phil didn’t want the stress, but he was thrust upon this role, he would take the role until someone else wanted to step in. He kind of hoped it would be Schlatt.
 “So,” Schlatt grinned at Phil. “I’ve been noticing people’s morale around here is plummeting and I am here to talk business.” He clapped his hands together. “So… I propose, a sort of… arena.” He stood up straight his arms fall behind his back. “We need some sort of entertainment, so why not let people beat the shit out of other people for the amusement of others.” Phil gave him a dead pan look.
 “An… Arena?” Phil sighed. “I do have my concerns Schlatt,” Phil looked at Schlatt uneasily.
 “Oh, I know you do, Phil. That’s why I’m here to tell you… That there will be rules, to abide by, legal forms and all that.” He waved his hand at the mention of the legalities. “This could really be the start we need for the economy.” Schlatt’s goat eyes peered down at Phil almost expectantly.
 “Economy?” Phil felt his face twist up in confusion. “What are you on about Schlatt?”
 “Well, you see Philza. I’m glad you asked because I have a shiny new currency, just ready to be used.” He fished around his pocket, pulling a gold coin engraved with an s out. “Introducing, the Schlatt coin!” He gave Phil a huge smile. Phil quirked up an eyebrow at him.
 “Sounds like a waste of gold mate.” Phil crossed his arms and shrugged. “Emeralds are a good currency to use.” Phil’s words caused Schlatt’s smile to falter. Phil inwardly sighed, would he really give this man leadership if he asked for it? Maybe… But he was scared that Schlatt would use up resources for meaningless things like the Schlatt coin. “I’ll tell you what Schlatt, you can run your arena. You can allow gambling, you can sell Schlatt coins for gambling purposes, but outside your arena they are worthless.”
 “So, what you’re sayin’ is my Schlatt coins are nothing more than poker chips.” Schlatt gave a grimace pocketing his coin.
 “Take the deal or not. Emeralds have higher value than gold.” Schlatt pondered over his words. “Not to mention it wouldn’t be hard to fake a Schlatt coin. There’s so much gold in the nether.” Schlatt rubbed his chin, pondering.
 “Alright Phil, you do have some good points. This might also allow me to expand into other business ventures.” Schlatt had his smile back on. “Did you know I always wanted to be a landlord?” Phil shook his head. The conversation went on, about Schlatt’s wants in life. This conversation revealed more of Schlatt as a person, than of the businessman. Schlatt was about to turn and walk away when he stopped and faced toward Phil once more. “Ey, tell Technoblade, that if he wants to come fight in The Pit, I would be more than happy to make some money off of him.” With that he chuckled and walked away.
 Phil let out a sigh of relief. What an… Odd conversation. He couldn’t deny the people needed somewhere to let their frustrations out, whether it was actually fighting in the pit or gambling their money away. Having an economy would hopefully serve this place well. Services couldn’t be free forever, and trading when there was already lack of resources was proving hard.
Phil started walking toward the new hospital to check on everything. He had a lot to think about, and hopefully this was a step in the right direction for everyone here.
 --
 You had earned yourself a good gig working for Niki. She gave you a place to sleep, and she fed you well, in order for your services. This was the least you could do for her. You did not want to make someone feel as if you were using them. You wanted to give back. The last two weeks you had healed nicely, due to a health potion Niki had scrounged up for you. You were running deliveries out to people; they were mostly deliveries of rations to everyone around The Burrow. Techno enjoyed walking with you on your deliveries every night.
 For whatever reason Techno was late today, he mentioned something about mining earlier. You shrugged it off when you didn’t see him waiting for you at Niki’s door. Making your way to the small cart that Dream had made for you, you start loading it up with the boxes of food Niki had prepared. You lingered for a second, your eyes scanning the area for Techno. Disappointment set in when you didn’t see your friend, biting the inside of your cheek you sigh. You really enjoyed walking with him.
 “Want some help tonight?” You recognized Dream’s voice; he had approached you while you were checking the wheels on the cart. A smile pulled at your lips at the sight of him.
 “Sure, thanks Dream.” Well at least you had a friend with you during tonight’s delivery run. “I appreciate it!”
 “Heh,” Dream chuckled, “It’s not a problem at all. You shouldn’t be pulling carts by yourself anyway.” His fingers lightly grazed your cheek. “How are you feeling?” His voice soothed your soul.
 “I’m alright,” You subconsciously leaned into his touch, feeling your heart flutter. “It feels good to be doing things again.” You let out a sigh of content. This cave was beautiful in comparison to the unfinished room you currently slept in. Techno was slowly but surely working to add a second story to the bakery, and to finish off what needed to be done in the main bakery. The second story would serve as Niki’s home.
 “I bet,” Dream hummed, “I’m just glad you’re okay.” The two of you talked, as you started your route. People were starting to get used to seeing you, and you pretended not to notice how they would look at Techno when he towered over them. You could smell their fear, you wished they could see the being that Techno was to you. It was a different story when Dream was with you. People greeted you more as well as Dream, people didn’t act scared of Dream like they did with Techno. The thought made you sad.
 You and Dream had just gotten done with the residential part of your route, on your way back to the bakery to collect more food from Niki. Your eyes looked around at everyone’s houses most of them were in the walls of the cave, but some were log cabins adorning the makeshift streets. What caught your attention, was a blank cave wall, ready to be mined out and built in. You stopped and looked at the wall.
 “You want a house of your own?” Dream asked as he peered back at you when you stopped. You bit your lip and nodded. Having your own space would be amazing. “We can do that for you.” Dream slapped a hand on your shoulder, pulling you close, you could feel the heat from his body. “Command me to move the world, and I will do it for you.” You could see his smile behind his mask.
 “Cheesy.” You let out a laugh. He laughed with you, his grip tightening on your shoulder.
 “I know you like it.” He teased, “But seriously, Sapnap and I can help you with your house. I’d say George too… But… I can almost guarantee that he’ll be off sleeping somewhere.”
 “Well at least you know your friend well enough,” You giggled. Dream sighed happily at your laughter. He let go of your shoulder, and you found yourself missing his touch. He returned to his earlier position pulling the cart.
 “We should get back and do the rest of the route.” You could hear the smile in his voice, and you nodded walking by his side. Your chest felt warm having him by your side. You hadn’t felt anything like this in a very long time. You dared to let your hand pull the cart with him, he only chuckled and you felt the weight of his hand on yours the rest of the trip back to Niki’s bakery.
 You still missed Techno, but you had failed to see him when you were immersed in conversation with Dream. Techno saw Dream’s hand on yours and he saw how happy you were talking with him; he couldn’t bring himself to do or say anything. He just stumbled back and gained his composure, his eyes flicked from you to Dream. He couldn’t ignore your smile, the way you laughed. He shook his head and headed back to Phil’s house.
 Maybe you were better off with Dream.
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franniebanana · 3 years
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CQL Rewatch - Ep 21
Note: I will be critical of Jiang Cheng in these posts. If you can’t handle that, please feel free to scroll on.
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I really like this hug. I mean, if you've been reading these from the beginning, you know how much I love wangxian, but I'm really glad that Wei Ying's first actual hug after returning from the Burial Mounds is with Jiang Yanli. I'm not counting the hug with Jiang Cheng, because Wei Ying didn't hug him back. That hug was thrust upon him and he did not reciprocate. This reunion is very sweet, and tear-filled, and if I hadn't been up since 3 am, I might be feeling enough to shed a tear, myself. That being said, it's hilarious how they keep showing Jiang Cheng in the middle, looking awkward as he tries to balance joy and sadness. I get what the director had in mind, but it just looks weird lol.
But this part is also super sad, because Wei Ying again makes a promise he can't keep: that the three of them will be together forever. Now, I realize that if you hadn't read the novel or weren't familiar with the story, you should already know from the first two episodes that things do not turn out well for the three of them. However, if you're like me and have the memory of a goldfish, you probably didn't realize who everyone was in the first two episodes and even if you did, you've already forgotten long ago that Jiang Cheng was pissy and angry around Wei Wuxian and that Wei Wuxian's inner monologue reveals to us that JIang Yanli is dead. All that being said, his line about staying together forever hits a lot differently when you're very aware of how the story turns out, because Jiang Yanli dies, Jiang Cheng grows to hate Wei Wuxian more and more every day, and Wei Wuxian, of course, defects to save the Wens from slaughter. I think "let's stay together forever" is something you say and mean, but something that you know can't ever truly be. I think Jiang Yanli is old and wise enough to know that she will eventually marry and leave Lotus Pier, even though she will resist it for a while. The rest is uncertain, but I think at this point, Wei Wuxian really does believe and want to stay with the Yunmeng siblings and to stay at Jiang Cheng's side as he leads the Yunmeng Jiang Sect.
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I will never not be heartbroken by this scene--even knowing how everything turns out--by how Lan Wangji looks at Wei Wuxian, how if things had been different in Yiling, he would have gone into that room and greeted him, how Wei Wuxian would have smiled at him and beckoned him inside, how they would have sat and Wei Wuxian would have talked Lan Wangji's ear off, like old friends. It's just so upsetting to me, and I can't ever shake that feeling in the pit of my stomach. I know what happens, but these two episodes, until they reconcile, really get to me. It's a horrible feeling when you want to help someone, but they don't see it as helping, and they only get upset with you. I deal with that on an almost daily basis, and I wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone. I really identify with Lan Wangji here, and I think that's why I get such a visceral reaction to seeing him like this.
I don't know if I've said this, but Lan Wangji is my favorite character in CQL and in every adaptation of this story. He is kind of my perfect character--he checks off all the boxes: one-sided love, pining, standing by the main character no matter what, practically abandoning his own family for the person he loves. I love that he has an almost child-like innocence, but he's still very wise; he's smart; he's strong; he has a strict moral code and he sticks to it without fail, even if it means going against his friends and family; he's a loner, but he loves deeply. When I first started watching the donghua and reading the novel, I liked Wei Wuxian the best, and he's still my second favorite character, but Lan Wangji has stolen my heart.
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Of course, Wei Wuxian goes to this awkward dinner party, after spending three months around ghosts (and then killing a shit-ton of Wen soldiers), and all he can think about is that empty seat behind him, the one where Lan Wangji should be sitting. It's interesting how the Yunmeng siblings each react: Jiang Yanli starts to become concerned and commits it to memory. She's probably wondering why Lan Wangji isn't there, and then seeing how Wei Wuxian wistfully stares at the empty seat, she finds it even more unsettling. Jiang Cheng just seems embarrassed by Wei Wuxian here and his motivation is to get Wei Wuxian back on track so he doesn't make fools of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect in front of the other leaders. He obviously knows what happened between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, and I don't think he's bothered by it at all. He doesn't seem to care whether they're friends or not, and I'd say that even at this point, he'd prefer if Lan Wangji stayed out of Wei Wuxian's life altogether. He knows how close they were, and I think he also knows that Wei Wuxian would choose Lan Wangji over him if given that ultimatum. With Lan Wangji out of the picture, Jiang Cheng gets to maintain more control over Wei Wuxian than he otherwise would. Even later on at Lotus Pier, he wants Wei Wuxian around, helping him, being his right-hand man. He doesn't want him wandering around the city or galavanting off with other cultivators. Granted Wei Wuxian was drinking at the time, but I don't think that invalidates my point that Jiang Cheng wants Wei Wuxian to stay in line and stay at his side where he can control him. You know, because he sees the relationship (as Wei Wuxian suggested) as the same as their two fathers: where Wei Wuxian is in a subservient role to Jiang Cheng. Mind you, that's different from seeing him as a brother, and I think, while there's some of that mixed into his other feelings, it's a very small portion.
No screenshot, but the following scene, after Wei Wuxian leaves the dinner party, Jiang Cheng follows him out. And even here, he asks what's wrong--asks if he's upset because of Lan Wangji--but then scoffs at how that could really be what's bothering him. He says something like, "Why did you come here just to be disliked by him?" I think while he gets that they have a close bond, he doesn't really understand the depth of the relationship. He's jealous of Lan Wangji, but doesn't fully understand why. Ultimately, I think Jiang Cheng, because of his parents and the way he was raised, really doesn't understand what it's like to have a good relationship with anyone. And this ignorance isn't his fault--he's a product of his parents and surroundings, and no one, including himself, has ever tried to fix this. So, without being able to really understand how relationships work, he scoffs at how Wei Wuxian could still be upset over what happened with Lan Wangji. Jiang Cheng essentially gave Wei Wuxian what he wanted in that moment, which was unconditional support to carry out his revenge, and yet Wei Wuxian is hung up on Lan Wangji not being supportive there, and in fact being in opposition to him. Jiang Cheng doesn't even really have friends, so he thinks Wei Wuxian should just get over Lan Wangji and move on with his life, but it's not that simple. Lan Wangji isn't just an acquaintance, he's not just someone that Wei Wuxian partnered up with to fight a battle or carry out a mission--he's a soulmate, a kindred spirit (if you want to go down a less romantic route).
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I rarely can say anything bad about Jiang Yanli (except how she's almost always making soup), and here's another example: Chenqing. She's so far the only one who supports Wei Wuxian having a first class spiritual tool. She immediately shows interest in the flute, even encourages him to give it a name. Lan Wangji immediately sees the flute as something bad, while she's completely supportive. And this is really what Wei Wuxian needs right now, and I love her for being there. She's also about the only person he will genuinely smile around. He gives everyone else forced or fake smiles, but not Yanli. At this moment, I think he only wants to be with her, and I can't really blame him when everyone else is either opposing him or just wanting something out of him. She really is coming from a place of sympathy and comfort that's different from how the others are handling things. Lan Wangji wants to help, yes, but he tries to force it.
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Imagine being in this room, listening to Jin Zixun (I'm not even sure if that's his name lol) trash talk Wei Wuxian, wanting to say something in his defense, but being unable to, not just because it's not your place to do so, but also because you're not even sure if you can defend him anymore. I think Jiang Cheng is struggling with the same. He stands up to Jin Zixun, finally getting him to shut up by saying that it's a domestic affair for the Jiang Clan and none of his fucking business, but Jiang Cheng also struggles to find excuses for Wei Wuxian. And that would certainly be difficult, because Wei Wuxian is somewhat like a stranger now. He's similar, but he's not the same Wei Wuxian that Jiang Cheng grew up with. He's really a shadow of his former self. But Lan Wangji has the added bonus of not being able to speak on his behalf because he's not even in the same clan--who is he to defend Wei Wuxian? He can't even stand with the others at the table (can't or won't, I'm not sure), so he certainly can't speak to Wei Wuxian's honor in front of all the other leaders. I'm sure the conversation back in Yiling is still running through his mind: this is a Jiang Clan affair--and to have that repeated again to someone else. That very much puts Lan Wangji in the "other" position. He's not in Wei Wuxian's clan, therefore, it's none of his business. He should care about him. He shouldn't try to protect him. He shouldn't try to guide him. But the problem is he still cares deeply about Wei Wuxian, and he wants to help him and protect him and guide him.
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These scenes are always hard to watch for me (thank god for the special edition cut). It's really hard to watch the clans doing to the Wens what the Wens have done to the other clans. As if war wasn't already terrible enough, you also have what happens to the prisoners of war. In this case, Wen Qing's sect are all healers and have little to do with the war that the rest of the Wen Clan was waging on the other cultivation clans. However, they are still treated as enemies and imprisoned. It's difficult to watch the other clans, who you want to root for, making the same mistakes and transgressions as the Wens, who we are supposed to look at as the proper enemies in the story.
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As we've seen a few times in this episode already, Wei Wuxian is having trouble controlling all the negative energy that's surging through him and the Yin iron, and on some of those occasions, he's touched his old wound. As he does this here, everyone looks at him, but he just looks at Lan Wangji. This is the person he cares most about in this room, the person whose heart his closest to his. I have nothing profound to say--I just like it.
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And of course Lan Wangji looks right back at him. He knows Wei Wuxian best, even better than his own "brother", Jiang Cheng. He knows what happened in Xuanwu Cave, he saw the effect the sword had on him. I feel like each time they exchange glances, they are both crying out to each other, but Wei Wuxian is too stubborn to ask for help and Lan Wangji doesn't want to force the issue and strain their relationship further.
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The way Lan Wangji hesitates here before saying, "I don't know," kills me. To him, it's just further proof of how Wei Wuxian is getting farther and farther from him, how the chasm between them just keeps growing. He's upset here. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't want to force Wei Wuxian to do anything--that's against his clan rules, but more importantly, against his own ethics--yet he doesn't want to stand by and do nothing while his friend destroys himself. I think we see Lan Wangji as a character who always knows what to do, someone who always knows the right path, but here we see how that's not true at all. This is a man who is very smart, very clever, but who is also unsure of himself. He's struggling with what's right and wrong. And he consults his brother here, hoping to get a clear answer, so that he'll know what to do next, but he gets nothing of the sort.
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It would have been easier for Lan Wangji if his brother has simply said, "Wei Wuxian is wrong and an enemy," but of course he's more wise than that. Nothing is black and whit, and humans cannot be judged for what's on the surface. You have to look deep inside a person, know their intentions, and then you can judge if they are doing what's right or wrong. The problem is Lan Wangji doesn't know Wei Wuxian's intentions. Months ago, he know Wei Wuxian wanted to defend the weak, protect people who couldn't protect themselves, and live by such a just moral code. But now Wei Wuxian seems like a stranger, has murdered many, many people, and has taken cruel revenge upon Wen Chao and Wang Lingjao.
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What I've noticed in this episode is that Wei Wuxian will look at Lan Wangji, but he always averts his eyes fairly quickly. It's as if he's afraid if they make eye contact for too long, he'll be letting Lan Wangji in, which he does not want to do under any circumstances. Letting Lan Wangji in means admitting what's going on as well as opening up Lan Wangji to danger. Wei Wuxian does not want anyone else getting hurt or dying because of him, so it's better to reject everyone and focus on his own clan.
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Honey, I'd walk away too. It's hard to tell if Lan Wangji is about to cry or about to punch Wei Wuxian in the mouth--either one would have been excellent, but I'm leaning towards the latter. Lan Wangji had to answer Jiang Yanli. She met him by chance, but it was she who initiated the conversation. Of course, angst rules being what they are, we had to have a misunderstanding a la Wei Wuxian walking into the conversation midway and making the asinine assumption that Lan Wangji was just breaking his confidence by telling her EVERYTHING. Of course, anyone who knows Lan Wangji knows he'd never do such a thing. But when Wei Wuxian's shijie comes to him, voicing her concern and asking about him, he has no choice but to empathize with her and tell her what he knows.
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I really like this little exchange. Reliving the fight on the rooftop, before they were acquainted, before they were friends--before Lan Wangji fell for him. This time when he attacks, it's not about malice, it's not about breaking the rules and bringing liquor into the Cloud Recesses--it's a man, looking at the one he loves, scared out of his mind, worried that that man is going to destroy his mind and body, using a taboo cultivation method. This fight is a love letter, as far as I'm concerned. It's an act of desperation.
Also I fucking love that around four or five people have asked Wei Wuxian where Suibian is, and each time he makes up a lie: he forgot it, he isn't in the mood, he didn't bother to bring it. But when Lan Wangji asks him, he doesn't respond. He doesn't lie, he doesn't laugh it off--whatever he does, Lan Wangji will know that he's lying, and Wei Wuxian knows that.
Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | Or just check out the #CQL Rewatch hashtag
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lilkermit14 · 3 years
Note
Jay is from the show Red Widow and unfortunately he's not really known 😅 At first I wanted to ask for Jack but I had no idea of ​​the details for the story... Maybe he had to leave reader because of his job, but he loves her too much and decides to come back and find out that she is pregnant (a baby girl) I know, it's not original but i can't imagine anything else for this charming cowboy 🥺
Whole (Jack Daniels x Fem!reader)
Notes: Idk why I struggled so hard to write this fic but here she is in all her glory........yay. Not as smutty as per usual to prove I’m not a total whore but here ya go
Summary: after your life is threatened unbeknownst to you, whiskey takes it upon himself to protect you the only way he thinks he can––by leaving you. but what his cowboy brain doesn’t for see, is that he’s doing both of you more damage than good especially after a happy little accident. 
warnings: brief description of smut and aftercare (like the La Croix of smut but still no minors), ANGSTTTTTTT, rOUGH, unplanned pregnancy, a slap, and a happy ending
Jack should have known the first time he wasn’t meant to have this kind of happiness—the kind where one could always have someone to return home to at the end of the day. No, he couldn’t have it with his late wife and he couldn’t have it with you either.
The human trafficker had somehow gotten access to personal statesmen information, because he had found out about you. Had your name. Had shown him pictures of you. Had shown that men were waiting at your doorstep if Jack didn’t back down now.
Thankfully, they were able to stop the man before it came to any of that—but it broke something in Jack. He couldn’t have another woman he loves die like his wife. He didn’t know if he could handle it. You didn’t even know about Jack’s real job, all you knew was that he was the CEO of a distillery and you never asked questions about that. Maybe it was easier keeping it like that, as Jack realized the only way to keep you safe was to leave you.
He had picked a night, picked a place to head out to after it was all over, and planned out the note. He had made love to you one last time before leaving—slowly savoring the way your skin felt pressed against him and the way it felt to have your walls drag against him when he thrusted, and finally stilled deep inside you. He made sure to take care of you before he left, clean with all sore muscles rubbed out and well hydrated—comfortable as you could be. You fell asleep so easily it somehow made Jack more guilty for what he thought was the right thing. He stayed longer than he should have after he wrote the note and got dressed, bag packed by the door, just staring at you, attempting to memorize the sound of your soft noises as you slept and the way your naked body looked covered by the sheets and pale moonlight. It was the most beautiful scene he had ever seen and wanted it to be the clearest memory he had of you. Tears sprung in his eyes, thinking that this is the only thing he will ever have of love—memories. He kissed your forehead one last time before walking out of your life forever.
*****************************
Jack hasn’t felt alive since, the toll of leaving you behind eating at him more than he ever thought it could. He’s changed in a way and everyone knows it—they see the way he moves or speaks now and know something has changed. He just goes through the motions of living with no actual life in his eyes to prove he is alive. He throws himself into his work working through cases and bad guys more efficiently than ever, but it doesn’t distract him from losing you—not when he lies awake at night crying and missing you.
Everyone around him changes too—Tequila doesn’t tease him anymore and walks around him like they’re threading through a room full of broken glass. Ginger does more medical evaluations—ones that are less to do with physical health and more to do with mental health. Most of all—champ acts different, “son—“
Jack pauses from exiting the debriefing room after giving Champ a status report and picking up another case, “I’m wondering if you should take a few days off from wo—“
“No,” Jack says curt and without a single space for bargaining. Champ is stiff when Jack looks at him, “I know you're wallowing over that girl.”
“I did what I had to do and I’m going to continue doing it.” Jack reminds him, staying steadfast in his decision. Champ shakes his head, “and it’s tearing you apart—statesmen get threats like that all the time Whiskey and they don’t go deserting their relatives or loved ones—“
“Well they're not me,” Jack states his stare is cold as he looks down at Champagne, “I can’t lose another person like that again.”
“You’ve lost her by leaving her,” his words cut through him and he knows it’s the truth, but it’s not something stubborn ol Jack is willing to withstand. Jack turns to leave again, “I’ll be off on the case.”
*****************************
You can’t help but pick up one of the sandwiches from the various food carts before they go out. It’s too tempting after standing for hours on your feet with a six month old pregnancy belly on your front—one you’re rubbing as you enjoy the taste of the mozzarella, pesto, and tomato together. The father of your child disappeared before you could even tell him—fitting considering you never grew up with a father in your house. So it has just been you and your baby girl, and well your best friend and business partner that was walking towards you now, joking “are the sandwiches up to your standards?”
“I needed something to eat after four hours of standing and being pregnant Travis,” you contest, taking another big bite. He shrugs with some sort of understanding, looking over the trays of food with you and approving them before they go off. Travis randomly starts, “I don’t think we should try to have this client again.”
You turn, finishing your sandwich with an eyebrow raise, “why? Did someone from the company say something to you—“
“Not that—although I was worried when the CEO invited his childhood priest—” he notes sending off the last tray, “I get bad vibes from the company itself.”
You think about it for a moment agreeing that something was fishy about the way a family-owned soap company was able to afford such a lavish event—something was a little off. You nod, “maybe not—I don’t want to get too close to a company that's a front. I doubt they would want us back because they’ve fired every event planner they’ve had before and the CEO’s wife already complained that the flower garnishes weren’t the correct shade of maroon.”
“We just have to finish the job then and we’ll be scott free” Travis mutters checking his watch, “just a couple hours left—what could go wrong?”
As though you were in a badly made comedy, right as Travis says that you hear clatter and gunshots come from the main event area, “......I spoke too soon didn’t I?”
*********************
Vincent Marsulio had tried to make a run for it once he realized his plans to run a million dollar drug business had gone to shit—I mean a soap company as a front? Really? Jack had dodged gunfire, tequila and the new agent rum covering him—allowing him to use his lasso to drag Vincent into Statesmen custody.
The scene was under control now—with agents and Ginger’s crime scene investigators gathering follow up information and evidence. Jack was just there to make sure the scene stayed secure and that no witnesses ran off that were revealed to be involved. Scanning the crowds of those being interviewed is when he saw you.
He should have known you were here—he should have seen your touches in the flower displays, the food selections, the drapery, and the table cloths. You were a party planner, he should have made note of that. You’re the same as the images in his mind—the memories that flash through his mind whenever he gets a flicker of your perfume or hears a laugh that sounds like yours. The only thing that's changed about you is your stomach—there's a sizable baby bump there, and he mumbles to himself “no…”
It had been seven months—seven months since he left you. It had to be his. He left you pregnant. As though you heard the gears turning in his head you turn and make eye contact with him—freezing in your place. He has to talk to you now, but you make efforts to move away, running towards a stairwell to get away from him as he shouts your name.
************
Despite being seven months pregnant you make a good chase, ducking down the stairwell and moving as fast as your swollen ankles will carry you while he shouts for you behind you. You can’t see him right now, he left, he doesn’t deserve this. Your condition must somewhat get the best of you as you end up stumbling on a landing—slowing down enough for him to catch up. You knew it was futile after all he ran faster than you even when you weren’t pregnant.
He grabs your wrist before you can go any farther, pulling you towards his body—only for you to wack a big slap to the side of his face, “how dare you—you asshole.”
“You're pregnant?” He asks quick as hell, and you frown still jabbing hits at him, “Why else am I so fucking big dickhead.”
He pulls you closer in an effort to restrain you from hitting him and from running away at any point, “is it mine?”
You had been avoiding looking at his face the entire portion of the ordeal—not wanting to see the face of the man that abandoned you. But you end up looking anyway and feel the tears spring up in your eyes. Despite the fact he left you you still feel love for him in your heart. You can’t lie to him, “it is.”
“Sugar, I’m—“ he breathes out, struck in the moment by every error he’s made in the past few months knowing he should have stayed, “I’m so sorry, please let me explain why I did what I did.”
You don’t respond just letting him speak at his own will as he settles you two down to sit on the steps of the stair. Jack tells you about his job, his wife, and the scare he had that just accumulated to him feeling like he had to leave to keep you safe. You had known about his late wife but none of the details about the affair and understood just why he was so afraid—but he still acted like an idiot. Head in hands, “why did you keep everything hidden from me Jack, I mean you lied to me about your job––no wonder I was able to find you after I found out, I was stuck looking for Jack Daniels brewery CEO instead of Jack Daniels statesmen.”
You got him there, “I should have––everyone told me I should have told you.” Silence emanates between the two of you, “I know sorry doesn’t make up for all I did––I don’t know if I can ever make up for what I did, but give me a chance because I want to be there for you and the kid–I love you sweet pea.”
Tears spring from your eyes, “I love you too Jack, we’ll figure it out I promise.”
Jack pulls you into his arms whispering what sounds like a thousand thank you’s for you and the girl in your belly, “it’s a girl you know.”
“A girl…” Jack trails off with a smile gleaming on his face and some unspoken joy in his eyes, that shifts into something of deep regret, “I was almost like him I don’t ever wanna be like him”
“You won’t.” you state firm and jack pulls away to cup your face and wipe away the errant tears still streaming down your face, “can I kiss you darling?”
“Please,” and with that the lips you have missed meld on to yours. After months, both alone and apart, both you and Jack feel a sense of security that everything will be alright––that your little family is finally whole.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I’m sorry that its bad....
taglist:
@poenariuniverse @harleyamidala @yespolkadotkitty @storiesofthefandomlovers @babybelou @legally-a-bastard @computeringturtle @clydesducktape @sixties-loser @buckysalefty @april-14-blog @prettylittlegoldfish @softpedropascal
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savnofilter · 3 years
Text
Kinktober Day 7
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m. izuku
☠️ warning(s): 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕨 𝕛𝕠𝕓𝕤, lingerie, slight dom/sub, face fucking (?), choking with schlong. 
☠️ genre: smut, holiday special.
☠️ words: 1.3k [5 mintues, 30 seconds].
☠️ read more: kinktober(uary)
☠️ summary: nothing but an innocent wedding day has you excited for the future. your giddiness leads you to give a surprise visit in midoriya’s study a few minutes before the ceremony.
☠️ a/n: requested by; @mci-writing​. mwuahahaha, i hope you like it! kinda proud of this, considering a part two~~ thank you for requesting, bby!!
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The wedding preparations were already set in place. Midoriya nervously adjusted his tie and suit, ignoring all the running around from the place. Since the beginning of the day and up to this point it has been slightly hectic. Midoriya sighed as he finally had enough time for himself, in the closed confines of his study. He placed his hands on the desk as he prepared himself, his head hanging low before quickly snapping up to look up to catch the small knocks at the door. Apart from him wanting to pretend he wasn’t in the room but something told him to respond.
“Come in!” Now, what he wasn’t expecting was the bride herself. Izuku had no time process your presence, taken back as you were quick to drop the robe you had been gigHe blushed as he looked at your half-dressed state, in wedding dress undergarments. “H-Honey!” His face lit up in an embarrassed flush as he tried to hold his face from you. 
You giggled at his reaction, bouncing up to him and wrapping your arms around his waist, smiling brightly up at him. “What’s with the reaction? Are you scared!”
“N-No, of course not. You just caught me by surprise….” He tries to hold back his blush, letting his hands down as you move your hands up, resting on his shoulders, his hands moving to rest on your waist and give them a small playful squish. “What’s wrong?” He asks, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “I’m not supposed to see you before the ceremony-”
“Why not?!” you ask confused at his words, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. 
“J-Just tradition? Bad luck or something….” He mumbles as he tries to remember, snapping out of his thinking state and looking down at you when you pout and move to get down on your knees. “Uh, honey? What are you doing?”
“I’m giving you a present before we have to go~,” You tell him in a sing-songy voice, hands trailing his body as you get on your knees. “I’ll make it quick..” You mumble. Your hand moves to palm him through his pants, your heart happily skipping a beat when you could already feel a semi hard-on against his slacks, your proximity from before totally forgetting that when you did get that close upon him and it tended to get him… aroused. You hummed happily at toying with it till you got bored of teasing him, his hands helping you get the pants loose. In times like this when you got needy, Izuku learned not to question it or deny it. Just satiate it.
“I’m going to make you feel good, Deku…” You kept back a grin as he heard you use his name, looking away as he got flustered. Your eyes shined as his cock came into view, your pussy pulsing at seeing his pp out in the open like this. Coincidentally, fucking in his study/office was something you thoroughly enjoyed, and being able to do it before your big day was a huge turn on for you. 
Opened your mouth to stick your tongue out, your wet muscle moving along and licking along his length. You let out a sound of appreciation of the taste of his skin, the soft veins teasing the buds of your tongue, and making you pull away to smile at it. His dick was… cute. The shape, the difference in the shade to the rest of his body always made you smile. Your hand comes up to pump the slickened girth, your fingers almost struggling to reach each other as you pumped him. As you worked his cock to get harder in your hand, your clit pulses in the need to have it buried deep in you.
You hoped you two would have enough time to fit that in as well.
With that thought in mind, you decided to get back to your earlier task, licking his tip before suckling on it. You perk up at the slight taste of his pre-cum against your mouth, happily cleaning that up too. Your hands were back to holding onto his thighs to help support yourself. Unabashedly you had spread your legs to let him see the surprise between your legs, the secret itself being you were wearing the white lingerie set he had bought you that had crotchless panties to match with it.
Izuku tilted his head back, his hand gripping the top of his desk, leaning his weight against the sturdy wood. He was a tad flustered to have gained a wife like this, on the same coin loving you for your very open nature and comfortability around him. But in moments like this? Fuck. He couldn’t think, and the way you were working at his length he had no choice to think about the actual event at hand, it was only the beautifully daring lover he was able to elope with.
When he rolled his head to look at you, his eyes clouded with lust and red-faced he could observe you. Somehow in your movements, your bra had shown him some skin and just a tease of your soft areola. While his gaze observed your mildly frazzled state he had noticed that you did dress up all special for him. He had to resist the urge of making your hair a mess, the hairstylist had already been able to pin up your hair in a beautiful bun that he didn’t want to risk messing up. He bent down a bit to let his hand press against the back of your neck, the change of his position being able to push his cock further into your throat and make you gag. While your throat rejected the third leg, you however did not.
“Be a good girl and swallow it.” Izuku says sweetly, his tone slightly breathy as you help him get off. He slightly curses under his breath as you do as told, humming to avoid the annoyance of your reflex. You were such a good little slut for him, always doing what was told. You moaned here and there to convey how much you loved his cock in your mouth, your hand moving to fondle his balls. "Sh-Shit…" 
You could feel his cock twitch at the new stimulation. You batted your lashes up at him as you continued to take his length as to if it was nothing. He used the back of your neck to help aid him in thrusting into you, the wet slapping sound of his hips meeting to press against your lips easily could've fooled someone walking by that his cock was in somewhere else. He needed no warning that he was close nor change his pace, the only indicator being his labored breathing. His last thrusts were hard, almost slamming against you before pressing your face into his pelvis and cumming. 
"Swallow it, baby~" Izuku coos down at you, an almost sadistic smile gracing his face as he watched you struggle to do so and breathe. He caressed your neck as you are finally able to move, letting you pull off to catch some air. You made sure to lick up his length again to make to get the mess cleaned up, earning a head pat from him. 
"Thank you, Izuku~" You smiled sweetly, getting back up on your feet and getting on your tippy-toes to kiss the corner of his mouth. He smiles at the affection, his dominant nature falling back as he gets himself fixed up.
"S-Sorry if I got too carried away, I-I got excited…" 
"I love it when you treat me like that, Izuku." You smile cheekily at him, getting a napkin and cleaning up the residue saliva and cum, sadly managing to wipe off makeup with it as well. You'll just have to get it touched up before you go back. You sigh as you finally settle with having to leave your future husband's presence, wrapping your robe around you and waving at him as you leave. 
"We'll have round two after the ceremony~!"
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