#if i have the author's address i would march there and shake him

[dyinggirldied]

Honestly i wonder if the author of I'm Not That Kind of Talent has a beef with someone names Deon in their real life because what the hell?

[httpiastri]

more than enough – jmm21

you hate your birthday, but pepe is determined to change your mind.

genre: fluff/a little angsty/comfort

pairing: reader x college!pepe marti, ft christian mansell and sebastian montoya

warnings: uhhh anxiety and such ?? idk

word count: 2.6k

author's note: just like last year, this is merely a very self-indulgent birthday gift to myself (and a bit of a late birthday gift for a friend on here who confided in me about not liking their birthday either), so sorry if you don't relate but i needed to write this for myself despite how painful it was. not happy with how it turned out but, i had to get it out of my system. <3 (also not proofread because i will freak out likely aaaaa)

this is mostly a standalone fic but ig it kinda works as college!pepe so i put that there. i got this idea at my mom's birthday back in march but never actually wrote it until this last week... also loosely based on a tiktok that really spoke to me.

also! this doesn't really work with the headcanon of pepe, seb and chris all sharing an apartment, but i wanted it this way. i also wasn't comfortable including gaby or hermes, so i used the names nora and emma for seb's and chris's respective gfs. :)

"why didn't you tell me your birthday is next week?"

the question is innocent enough, only borderline accusing, but something tightens in your stomach nonetheless. you don't look up from the pot in your hand, however, instead continuing to scrub it with your dishbrush like it's no big deal. "who told you that?"

pepe chuckles as he makes his way over to your side, leaning against the counter as he looks at you. "emma," he tells you, crossing his arms over his chest. "going to answer my question now?"

"i must've forgotten to tell you."

"oh, come on..." your boyfriend shakes his head. "is there a reason i wasn't allowed to know? did i do something? do you not trust me? am i-"

"pepe," you say, his name followed by a sigh as you look over to him in hopes of stopping his rambling. "it's nothing personal."

"what is it, then?" he presses, eyes following your hands as they begin to rinse the pot he'd cooked your pasta in just a couple hours ago. "why don't you want to tell me?"

you take a deep breath, shrugging your shoulders before turning off the tap. "i just... i'm not a big fan of my birthday."

the biggest understatement of the year.

you hate your birthday.

for a number of reasons, really. some to do with your family and childhood; many to do with your own inner thoughts and feelings.

you hate how it reminds you of every bad birthday you had as a kid. you hate how it makes you hopeful that people will remember and congratulate you, because you hate how painful it is when they don't. you hate how you always get reminded of how little people seem to care, and how they always prioritize themselves even on what's supposed to be your day.

it's too much of a mess to explain to him right now – maybe, hopefully, one day you'll have the energy and courage to go through it all.

you hadn't forgotten to tell pepe; you had just been silently hoping he wouldn't address it, and that everyone else would forget, too. but apparently, you have a snitch in your friend group. "what do you mean?" pepe asks.

"i'd much rather not celebrate it." you place the pot on the drying rack, wiping your hands on your towel hanging by the stove before turning to him. "a lot of stuff regarding my birthday just makes me really upset. if i could, i'd just... make it disappear, honestly."

your eyes flicker to the floor, fingers nervously fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. he can tell you don't want to get into it, and he won't push you. instead, he opens his arms wide, taking a step forward. you accept the offer instantly, arms wrapping around his waist as he pulls you close.

the air in your little dorm room isn't as thick as you had expected it to be when telling him all of this – but at the same time, you aren't surprised. pepe has always had a way of grounding you, making everything seem a bit easier. "i can't make it completely disappear, i think," he says, placing his chin on top of your head. "but i can pretend for you."

you hum contently, letting your eyes close for a few moments. "that would be great."

he remains quiet for a couple of seconds, but then he can't stop himself from talking again. "do you really not want anything? no party? you threw me that party for my birthday, i'd feel guilty not doing anything back."

"i did it because you had a fun time and you like those things, and because i enjoyed planning it. but i was really hoping i could skip all that," you answer, pulling away ever so slightly to look up at him with a sheepish expression. "i would honestly rather have dinner with you, emma, nora, sebas, chris... maybe get some takeout from that new indian place down the road?"

to pepe's ears, you sound more than just a tiny bit crazy – but your being so different from him is one of the things that attracted him in the first place. he nods, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "whatever you say, love."

"where did your girl go?" emma asks the second pepe slumps into a free seat by the cafeteria table.

your boyfriend shoots a glance over his shoulder back to the serving line before setting his plate down. "they were out of rice so she's just waiting for a new batch," he says with a shrug.

"okay then, let's be quick before she gets here," emma speaks up again. "what are we doing for her birthday? it's just a few days away, but i think we can pull something off."

"me and seb were talking about throwing her a surprise party," nora says, looking over at sebastian who's nodding excitedly.

pepe, however, lets out a dismissive sound and swats the air with his hand. "no, forget about that," he says, stuffing a spoonful of pasta into his mouth. "she doesn't want any of that."

nora snorts. "what? of course she does."

"you know, pepe," emma counters, eyebrows raised at the spaniard. "every girl will tell you that she doesn't want a surprise party. don't bother, i don't care, you don't have to do all that for me! but in reality, we're all secretly craving it."

pepe considers her words for a few moments; maybe there is some truth in them after all. maybe all you did was try to act modest, to put the idea in his head so he would make the right choice.

but you weren't the one to bring up the subject – he was. he remembers clearly how you were doing your very best to avoid talking about your birthday at all, and the memory of how tough of a subject it seemed like to you is still etched into his mind. he thinks you were so brave to confide in him like that, and so he needs to stand up for you. he can't dishonor your trust.

"trust me, guys. she really doesn't want it." he ignores the groans of the people around him, taking a few sips of his water before continuing. "can't we all just grab some dinner on saturday instead? maybe that new indian place?"

"works for me," christian joins in. "how about presents, then?"

"right, are we all buying something together, or separate gifts?" emma fills in.

pepe shakes his head yet again. "i don't think she wants that, either." his words are followed by a long silence, which makes him unable to hold back a chuckle. "just paying for the food should be enough."

nora sighs dramatically, the palms of her hands pressing into the sides of her face. "and i'm supposed to just trust you, huh?" she asks and pepe merely shrugs, focusing back on his food. "hope you're not messing with us here, marti."

"i have no idea what he said, but he usually is," your voice spreads through the group as you finally take a seat at the table. "fill me in and i'll help you decide if he's just being annoying."

"i was just telling them about what mr. peterson said yesterday," pepe says quickly. "about what he'll do to everyone who fails the exam."

you throw your head back laughing, nodding instantly. "oh my god, that was hilarious. so, it started with someone on the front row asking about..."

pepe loves birthdays. his own, too, but mostly he finds himself looking forward to his friends' birthdays and longing to celebrate the important people in his life. he loves picking out gifts, planning celebrations, and making sure everything is perfect. it just comes naturally for him to be caring and detailed in that way.

but while pepe eagerly awaits your birthday, you couldn't even come close to feeling the same way.

most years, you spend the weeks leading up to your birthday dreading it, and the day of your birthday crying, because your birthday reminds you of everything you try to forget year-round.

pepe wants to make the day perfect for you, but he also obviously doesn't want to do too much. it's a hard task, but he's set on making it work – and the first step is getting a cake.

his first thought was to get you something huge, something to properly convey what he thinks you deserve and how much he loves you. though, it didn't take long for him to realize that something like that would be way too much for you. instead, he settled on a more basic yellow cake with some kind of white coating that the lady in the bakery recommended to him, and dropped by the grocery store near campus to buy sprinkles and a bunch of candles.

the end product is a little messy, but created with so much love, and pepe knows you're going to adore it. what he doesn't know is how he managed to keep you away from his refrigerator and the surprise hiding in it all night yesterday, but it doesn't matter – all that matters is that you're currently still sleeping soundlessly in his bed, with no clue of what's going on over in the kitchen.

pepe's hands are trembling slightly as he lights up the candles; he is a little nervous, he will admit, but he's also excited at the same time. he can't wait to see the look of surprise on your face, so he hurries up and places the cake on a tray along with two cups of coffee.

he silently curses at the way his bedroom door creaks when he pushes it open with his foot, but thankfully you don't move a single muscle. he carefully scoots over to the side of the bed, sitting down next to you and balancing the tray in his lap. he reaches over with one hand to your cheek, thumb tracing along your skin, fingers settling under your jaw. "mi amor," he whispers, a soft hum leaving his lips as he watches your eyelids slowly flutter open. "happy birthday."

it takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the sunshine lighting up the room, but when they do, they can't help but focus on him. the goofy grin on his lips, the messy hair, the-

the cake on his lap.

you push yourself up to sit in bed, rubbing some sleep out of your eyes. you're mistaken, surely? you're still half-asleep, you must've imagined it...

but no amount of blinking makes the cake disappear. the little flames of the candles swaying in the air, the single drop of stearic rolling down the side of a candle, the rainbow sprinkles sticking to the top and sides of the cake – it's all very real.

pepe was so sure this was the right way to go. but seeing the tears begin to seep out of the corners of his eyes makes him horrified. he messed up.

he knew the sprinkles would be too much. and that amount of candles, what was he thinking? he definitely went overboard.

"oh my god," he says, instantly placing the tray on the bedside table before scooting closer to you. "i'm so so so sorry, i thought you would like it... i don't know what i was thinking. here, let me-"

you shake your head as he begins brushing away your tears with his thumbs, and to his big surprise, you chuckle. "don't be sorry," you say, letting out another laugh when you see the confused expression on his face. "i do like it. a lot." you reach up to take his hands in yours, bringing them down to the bed and intertwining your fingers. "it's just... very emotional, for me. as you can see."

he also chuckles now, and he thinks he understands – even though seeing your happy tears is more painful than he'd expected. "okay," he says with a nod. "so..." his eyes flicker back to the cake.

"yes, please. i mean, what could be better than a sugar rush first thing in the morning?"

pepe would've been so happy to shower you with presents to express how much he loves you; it would've made him so proud to invite all your friends to a big celebration, to show you how much you mean to all of them, to change your idea of a birthday. but this – sitting together in bed, eating straight from the cake (no plates needed), pressing sugary kisses to each other's cheeks – is another form of perfect.

he just hopes you think it's perfect, too.

hearing you tell the stories of how you needed to bake the cake for yourself if you wanted one as a child, how you always made sure to buy yourself a gift because the risk that no one else would get you one was too high, and how you always needed to plan out your own parties breaks his heart – but hearing you open up like that also means the world to him. he understands that it's all buried so deep inside of you, but there's nothing he wants more than to help you heal and to prove that you can have much better and bigger birthdays than that.

but for now, a little cake in bed and a ton of kisses will have to do.

baby steps.

"chris, will you pass me the chicken korma?"

he leans over the crowded couch table and holds out the takeaway box to nora, who takes it into her hands and thanks him. "that one is really good," you tell her through your mouthful of bread, nodding to your friend.

"what's the verdict, then?" sebastian asks from his seat over on the couch. "i need a rating from the birthday girl, one to ten."

"food? ten," you say, taking a sip of your soda. "company? ten."

birthday? eleven.

the whole day has been much better than you'd expected; from your wake-up this morning, to the lunch date you shared with pepe over in town after a cute walk along the river, to having your closest friends all gathered in your living room for you. you don't even mind the way your buttcheeks are already starting to hurt after sitting on the floor for too long – you knew you should've invested in more seating for moments like these – because all of this is worth it.

"agreed," pepe chimes in from next to you. "especially about the food."

"speaking of which," says emma. "was there any bread left?"

you're quick to jump to your feet, already turning towards the kitchen. "garlic or plain?"

"ooh, garlic! thank you!"

pepe hurries off the floor right after you, making up some excuse about getting a new spoon for one of the sauces, but no one even bats an eye. you hear him enter through the door, and you smile instinctively. "how are you feeling?" he asks when he reaches your side, hand finding the small of your back as you rummage through the takeaway bag. "is this all enough?"

"it's more than enough. so much more." after pulling out the garlic naan from the bag, you reach up to the side of his face with your free hand, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone. "best birthday ever."

you seal your words with a feather-light kiss to his lips, and he's still smiling when you pull away. "you promise?" he asks, eyes searching through yours for any slightest hint of insincerity or uncertainty.

"i promise." another kiss, followed by a gentle hum, and he visibly relaxes. "thank you."

"no, thank you." for opening up, for letting him do all this for you. for existing. "only happy birthdays from now on, okay? i will make sure of it."

"it could never be anything other than a happy birthday with you around."

[sol-consort]

Do you see Wrex and shepard together? Because I low-key think they have like sexual chemistry

OH BOY DO I!

It starts as enemies to firends to lovers, but then quickly spirals into forbidden love territory once he acquires the throne.

Remember that first meeting scene in ME1?

When the Citadel C-sec were too intimidated by Wrex to even dare and hold him down? The krogan assumes all humans tend to cower in front of someone his size.

How Shepard literally marches in there, calls him by his first name, then offers to shake his hand so casually? Full of confidence and poise? Not afraid to meet his eyes.

Yeah, that scene? Every single pixel is flooded with sexual and romantic tension.

Both Paragon and Renegade Shepard have the best chemistry with Wrex full stop.

The scene after it where Wrex deliberately disobeys Paragon Shep command to spare this guy's life, shooting him in the head because "he had a contract" Testing the limit to what this human allows him to get away with, pushing boundaries.

How Shep immediately snaps at him, addressing him down as a commander still despite him disrespecting your authority.

Showing him that this isn't the way things work around here, you won't tolerate this act from him a second time. He already used his one chance, and he better be on his best behaviour going forward.

Genuinely catching Wrex off-guard, he never expected the humans to have barks, let alone the power to follow it with bite. A part of him is even a little ashamed of his action, but he'd rather die than apologise to a human he just met, so he just gives a vague promise not to do it again.

Which might seem small, but to a contractual killer krogan who never trusted a single soul ever since he left his planet young, it's so much more.

The first building blocks to the long bridge of trust being established between them was set by Wrex.

And if you finish his target alone without bringing him along, what does Wrex do? He pays you. He hands you what he views as your rightful share for aiding with his job.

It's established early on that Wrex has honour, he has pride and more self-awareness that anyone would ever expect of him. He keeps his temper in control, is more cunning and logical than people expect of a "krogan"

How he doesn't hesitate to leave a situation when something feels off, his intuition and gut feeling had saved his life countless times.

-

You keep trying to have small talks with him whenever you come down to the dock of your ship, and he just doesn't understand why.

What are your intentions? Is it just curiosity from him being the first Korgan you see? Or are you just digging for information out of mistrust, doubting his abilities as a capable mercenary.

He always hated the employers who kept peering over his shoulders, poking their nose into things that do not concer them.

The job you assigned him will get done, stop bothering him.

In fact, that's why he shares the story about his previous employers. The various times he was ruthless just to get a job done, even when he had to face a friend in combat. Painting himself as a hardened soul.

...so why are you looking at him like that?

See? He has no heart, in fact, despite the three pumping in his chest. So are you convinced yet?

Yes, he is the epitome of the big, strong scary Korgan. The same one all the other species warned you so much about.

Instead of being impressed, intimidated, or both. You look at him with concern, as if he's a bird with broken wings that fell into your palm.

You inquire about his homeplanet.

The usual bitterness that threaten to come out in a pile upwards his throat each time he retells this story...is less severe this time around. It's easier to get out, to go more into details around you.

You never interrupt him, you let him talk. Thoughtfully listening, only speaking when it's your turn.

He doesn't know what to say.

By the end, you...apologise.

For someone to finally acknowledge the wrongs that have been done against his own kind, the injustice the krogans continue to suffer to this day.

A salarian would've gone into a long tangent about why it was a necessary evil, an asari would've offered faux pity before reminding him of the shiny statue in the citadel as if that makes up for the billions of krogan stillborns every year. A turian would've acted as this was a righteous punishment, that krogans should never be trusted until they prove they're capable of civility.

But you, human...Shepard, apologised.

Next time you stop by, he doesn't know why he even brings up the family crest. The rotten armour has been buzzing at the back of his mind like an annoying fly.

Wrex just blurted it out, his tongue loose around you for some reason, something he noticed but was still in denial about–either way, you make a promise to retrieve it.

He snorts.

Okay, he'll believe it when he sees it, Shep.

...

..

.

Standing there in front of the platinum wall locker, Wrex claws tremble as he opens the door. The urge to dislodge the thing from its hinges gnaws at the back of his mind, but he resists it. He knows better than to risk damaging the container of what's supposed to be a centuries old piece of armour.

He can't fucking believe his eyes.

It's there, in his hand. As ugly and vile smelling as he imagined.

And you by his side, you pawny little human who invaded this base like a storm, what a deadly force you are.

For the first time in decades, Wrex is hopeful again. Shepard reignited the flame of determination that always were inside him, the same snuffed out so cruelly by his father that forsaken day.

-

He followed you to Virmire, fully ready to risk his life for your cause. Not out of some obligation or contractual work, but because he believed in it, he believed in you, commander.

So why can't you extend him the same courtesy? Why must you oppose him when a cure is practically at the tip of his fingers?

It pains him as he raises the gun, the same sting he felt the day he drove the knife into his father's chest, the same despair wrangling his heart the day he put a bullet through his only friend's skull.

You expressed your sympathy for the tragedy of his people, didn't you? Or was it just a game of pretend to gain his trust?

So why can't you understand!

You of all people! He thought you would understand better than anyone.

But he doesn't pull the trigger.

You raise your gun, both of you know it won't do shit against him. A krogan shell can endure many bullets before any real damage is done, your squishy skin however? Yeah, not so much so.

No. The gun was akin to a flare instead. Gives a good reason for your crew to come running to your aid, for the salarian special unit to herald a shower of bullets upon him under the guise of "defending the human soldiers"

It will spell his doom in a much more painful way than the simple bullet he planned to plant directly into your heart ever could've.

The singular delicate human heart, how small it must be inside your chest. Yet this one fragile organ infected his three sturdy hearts with its determination.

How you risked your one heart for him that day you helped him retrieve his family crest.

Wrex...

is tried.

Beyond anything, he is so tried and sick of constantly fighting all the time.

He lowers his gun.

Yet the soldiers around you don't lower theirs until you do.

He tries not to let it get under his skin.

He fails.

Swallowing his pride, Wrex recollects the remains of his dignity. He must be in control of his emotions, never show too much fury, otherwise the world will weaponise it against him, claiming this is exactly why krogans don't deserve to join the rest of the galaxy yet.

They can choke on his dick.

-

There are just so many other scenes! I can go on forever.

The biggest one of them all, Grunt and how his whole mission could be interpreted as the best romance subplot between Wrex and Shepard.

Shep finds a Krogan teen who's going through puberty and what's your next course of action? Take him to his homeplanet and visit your ex the Krogan you may or may not have had a situationship with, the one you inspired to change his entire life, to go make a difference in the world.

Shep is Wrex's biggest muse, a nymph from the woods that flipped his world upside down. More deadly and dangerous than all the other warriors he has ever seen, as determined and inspiring as the greatest leaders. The krogan equivalent of a warrior angel.

And what does he do when this Valkyrie whom he thought had died walks back into his life so casually?

He is absolutely rejoiced. Couldn't give less of a shit about Cerberus or anything. Shepard is still Shepard, and you're here, alive, well, in front of him. As gorgeous as the day he lost you.

Not only that, but you came with a child. And you're asking him for guidance and help on raising him? Shepard, you shouldn't toy with a man's heart this much. Otherwise, he'll get the wrong impression.

Wrex practically treats Grunt as his own son and adopts him by the end of the mission. Not only that, but there is a big chance the "mating request" sent in for Shepard afterwards was actually Wrex's.

You get to play family for a day. Your son is just as powerful as you are. Wrex gets a glimpse of what it would've been like to raise him by your side, the life he could've had with Shepard.

But he cannot, he has obligations, ones he actually likes this time around. The krogans need a leader, the planet needs restoration. It's time to take responsibility for the state of his homeworld and not just chalk it up to "how krogans always were" Because that's simply not true.

The women remember it, their art, history, and beautiful complex culture. The men have gone senile with the war, Wrex needs to beat some sense into them. He'll drag all the clans with him to a better life whether they like it or not

And part of him...well. He knows you're the one he wants most, but is he the one you really want? Everyone in your crew is already drooling over you, Wrex is more dignified than to be just another obnoxious suiter chasing after you.

Not to mention, it's part of his job to get married to a krogan so the clans get another leader. You're a human, it will never work out. You have your own life, your own obligations and mission to save the galaxy.

It makes his dream to restore his planet pale in comparison, but Wrex isn't so fragile in his security that he'd get intimidated by that. If anything, it makes him yearn for you even more, admire you whole, impressed by your every achievements that outweigh his, rather than trying to dampen your blinding brightness.

Maybe, in the–hopefully near–future, your children and his can play together on this very same land. But instead of rubble, it will be grassy fields, you and Wrex taking a stroll in the gardens nearby while watching over both of your kids.

And for a moment, Wrex can close his eyes and pretend the ring pressing gainst his skin as he holds your hand, is a one that he gave you.

Would it be Wrex Shepard or would you prefer the Urdnot lastname?

Don't tell him.

He'd rather dream.

He earned it, after all that he sacrificed and everything gave in order to restore the glory to his people, he earned the right to dream.

[workersolidarity]

[ 📹 After Russian authorities tried to stop a white Renault sedan, the same vehicle the terrorists that attacked Crocus City Hall were seen escaping in, the vehicle refused to stop, after which Russian police opened fire on and overturned the vehicle. After pulling one of the suspects out of the sedan, tying the man up, he is interrogated, telling local authorities that he was offered half a million rubles to engage in the attack.]

🇷🇺 🚨

AS THE U.S. BLAMES ISIS FOR TERRORIST ATTACK AT CROCUS CITY HALL, RUSSIAN AUTHORITIES ARREST MERCENARIES TRYING TO ESCAPE TO UKRAINE

As the United States tries to pin the blame for the terrorist attack on the Crocus City Hall on the ISIS extremist group, Russian authorities arrested 11 men in relation to the event, including the four gunmen responsible for the carnage at the concert hall as they attempted to cross into Ukrainian territory.

Recently, the ISIS extremist group, which has a history of working on and off with the Intelligence agencies of the United States, and have been accused of acting as proxy for the U.S., claimed responsibility for the attack through its associated news agency Amaq on its Telegram channel.

However, in a recent address to the Russian people, newly reelected Russian President, Vladimir Putin, told the country's population that the attackers made arrangements with Ukrainian authorities to open a window for which the attackers would escape over the border into Ukraine.

According to Russian media, on the morning of March 23rd, a white Renault sedan, the same vehicle the suspects were seen escaping from the Crocus City Hall in, was seen heading towards Ukraine, about 100km (62mi) from the border.

The suspects refused to stop for local police, after which, police forces opened fire on the vehicle, overturning the sedan and wounding one of the suspects.

After pulling one of the suspects out of the vehicle, police tied the man up and attempted to interrogate him on camera.

The video, published online by local authorities, shows the suspect being interrogated on his knees, shaking and barely able to answer the authorities questions.

During the short interrogation, the suspect tells Russian authorities that he received the task of the terrorist attack after following a "preacher" on Telegram. At some point, the "preacher's assistant" assigned him the attack on Crocus, offering him half a million rubles to shoot up the concert hall, even paying half the sum before hand.

“I listened to the preacher... His assistant wrote to me... about a month ago,” the detainee said.

He goes on say to Russian authorities that after a conversation with the "preacher's assistant," he received the task of "killing people."

Russian news outlet Ria Novosti described the information extracted from the suspect as follows:

"After some time, he admits that through an Internet resource where he listened to sermons, recruiters contacted him and offered to commit mass murder for 500 thousand rubles. Half was transferred in advance to the card, the rest was promised after completing the task. They also provided weapons. Who exactly it was is still unknown. According to the terrorist, he flew to Russia from Turkey on March 4."

Meanwhile, another suspect said that he met a man named "Abdullah" on Telegram, after which he was offered a job.

"We went to Dmitrovskoe Highway and bought a car from the relatives of a new friend. We are probably talking about the same Renault vehicle," the suspect is quoted as saying.

The suspects have since been taken for questioning by the Investigative Committee.

According to the Russian intelligence services, known as the FSB, the suspects have contacts in Ukraine and intended to cross the border where the Ukrainian authorities had opened a window for the attackers to escape into the warring country.

The FSB says the attack was carefully planned, with a cache of weapons that were hidden for the attackers to use.

Russian authorities have since detained a total of 11 suspects, four of whom have been shot by Russian forces.

According to some Russian reports, at least some of the attackers were natives of Tajikistan, however the authorities have not confirmed this information and asked that journalists "refrain from disseminating unverified and unreliable information."

The death toll in the Crocus City Hall terrorist attack rose today to 137 people killed, while another 180 were injured in the attack.

#source1

#source2

#source3

#source4

#videosource

@WorkerSolidarityNews

[blues-sues]

First friend

(Ft. Rue and Banny)

The walls were stark white. Always were. Never changed, never shifted.

She would watch these walls for hours, waiting for something, anything to happen.

Sometimes things would. A grunt would come and get her for her routine check up but after she'd be quickly put back in her room. Rarely let out.

She was much too young to wander out alone. Not trusted enough.

Her eye was still recovering, the bandages bloody and itchy. So horribly itchy. She wanted to claw at it but she'd been yelled at too many times. She'd face punishment if she tried again.

She needed something to distract her. She didn't care if it was another fight. If she saw that Mightyena again, she'd-

Whirring. She stiffened as the door slid open behind her, clicking along its journey. She waited. She was told never to turn around until instructed. Last time she did, she saw a needle and had sent the man flying.

However, part of her knew this one wasn't a human. Something about the tiny steps it took told her such.

"S'alright. Ya c'n turn." Its voice sent a shiver down her spine. It was deeper than any she'd heard and had a faint echo to it- like it had a constant copycat attached.

However, she listened and looked over her shoulder to see it. However, nothing was there.

"Down 'ere."

Her head lowered until finally she spotted it. A small pokemon with black pigmentation and red eyes that look into hers curiously.

"N'mes Banny. Nice ta meetcha." It held out its hand, the middle of its arm sagging in the middle where its elbow would be.

"Uhm." She stared down at him. "Mewtwo." She replies, putting out her own and giving a shake.

"Ah. Righ'. Mewtwo." Banny's eyes narrow. "Ya gots quite th' reputation."

"Do I?" She questioned. Sincerely she's not quite sure why people would speak of her. She's not that interesting- besides being the last of her kind. At least that's what her guards told her.

"Duh. Ya th' newest memb'r. Everyone's dyin' to meet ya." The Pokemon shuffled and scrambles its way to sit beside her. "Looks like somebody 'ready did, tho."

She doesn't miss the way its eyes seem to look over her cuts and bruises from her battle. She couldn't. She's wired by now to notice every single movement near her.

"Was it th' brat? Big ol' stinky dog?"

She snorted. She couldn't believe she just snorted in front of a guest. However, Banny seemed unbothered. In fact, it grinned wider.

"I- well, I wouldn't say that." She covered her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter. "But, yeah, he was… interesting."

"Ya c'n say 'e was a bitch, I won' tell." Banny offers, its tail beginning to wag. "'re both thinkin' it."

"Where did you even come from???" She stuttered out between her laughs, clutching her stomach.

"Oh, y'know."

"No, I don't!"

"Bit of 'ere, bit of there. 've come from everywhere." The Banette begins to sway its legs, eyes curving upwards into crescents as it eyes her. "Y're bett'r than anyone else 've met. All got sticks up 'eir asses."

"That's rude!" Still, she has to resist giggling. Something about this 'mon has her feel like she's being told marvelous jokes.

"N't wrong~" Banny sang out, before breaking into a fit of laughter of their own.

And it was pleasant to sit there, laughing with it, but she also knew it couldn't stay.

Nobody could.

Finally, once she's regained her breath, she opens her mouth to address it but suddenly the doors swing open again and in marches-

A Zoroark.

Oh, but she's seen this one before. It's hard to forget a Pokemon that's half-shiny.

"Captain!" She squeaks out, back straightening as they draw near. But, their attention isn't on her.

Whipping around, they grab the Banette by the tail. "Banny, you are not authorized to be here!" They barked, lifting it so its eyes were level with theirs.

Banny didn't look fazed. "H'h? Y'sure? Swore I w's."

"You are the bane of my existence, you rat! Leave Mewtwo alone, they have training in an hour!" Captain snaps, dropping Banny abruptly only to start dragging it out by the arm.

She watches, eyes wide in awe as Banny still has the confidence to raise its other arm and wave. "G'dbye! S'ya next Chr'stmas!"

She rose her own and bid her own farewell with a sway of her arm. However, it took her a moment to process that...

It wasn't Christmas.

She tried to keep it at bay but once the door slid shut, she burst into another round of giggles. What a silly Pokemon!

-----

Banny, on his way out, of course heard. Their smile stretches wide upon hearing the laughter.

"What's got her so jolly?" Captain grunts, narrowing their eyes to glare suspiciously at Banny. "Did you infect her with something?"

"Yeah. 's called joy. Not tha' ya guys would know 'bout it."

Captain merely rolls her eyes in response. "Banny, you know this is for her own good. If she were out there, she'd-"

"-be happy? Wit' 'er real fam'ly?" Banny interrupted swiftly. "Ya act like 're savin' h'r but y'know we ain't."

"It'd do you good to keep your mouth shut." Was the Zoroark's snarled response. "That zipper ain't working."

"S'rry, it only lets me talk if 's th' truth."

The Banette was then promptly tossed into their own room and they shrug as they watch the door slowly start to slide shut, Captain's fierce glare locked on him.

Well, guess not leaving the room this week either.

[ashbrat488]

Foul Play - Chapter 27

March 2023

Millicent entered the living room carrying a bowl of chips, and her steps brought Henry and Darren's hushed conversation to an abrupt halt. They both turned to look at her, and her suspicions were immediately piqued. She paused by the coffee table, setting the bowl down, and fixed a scrutinizing gaze on them. "What's going on here? You two look like you're plotting something..."

Henry shrugged, a mischievous smile forming as he exchanged a glance with Darren. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Milly. Don't you want us to get along?"

"Of course, I do," she relented, settling into a seat on the other side of Henry and snuggling against his side, his arm draping over the back of the couch.

Darren turned his attention to Millicent. "What would you like to do for your birthday, Milly?"

She sighed in response to her father's question, resting her head on Henry's shoulder. "I'm not sure..." She leaned forward to address her dad directly. "We always have breakfast together, and I love that tradition we've started."

"I do too," Darren replied with a warm smile as Millicent nestled back against Henry.

"But you have a boyfriend this year," Henry chimed in. "Would you like to have a party or something just between us?"

Millicent playfully teased, "Who says I want to do anything with you?" She shot Henry a mischievous smirk, but then squeezed his thigh affectionately. "Just kidding. I don't need anything big."

Henry assured her, "I'll come up with something. We have some time."

"When's your birthday?" Millicent inquired, nudging Henry's shoulder.

"May 5th."

Her eyes widened in slight surprise, and she grinned. "Wait, so I'm older than you?!"

Henry chuckled and gave her side a gentle squeeze. "Only by a bit. What can I say? I like older women..." She giggled, making herself comfortable once more at his side as they watched the rugby game on the TV.

***

Henry sat on the bench in the locker room, busily lacing up his tennis shoes when Darren walked in, accompanied by the team's coach. He paused, his hands resting on his thighs as he anticipated what was to come.

Just as Darren began to speak, the door swung open behind him, and in stumbled Kyle and Ben, engaged in hearty laughter. Henry raised an eyebrow at Darren, sensing that something was amiss. Darren cleared his throat, trying to regain control of the situation, while motioning for Kyle and Ben to take a seat.

"I've decided to conduct a random drug search for all the players," Darren announced. A chorus of grunts, groans, and protests filled the locker room as everyone started talking at once. Darren let out a sigh and raised his hands for silence, while the coach stepped forward, blowing his whistle.

"Shut it!"

Darren took a deep breath and continued, addressing the disgruntled players. "When you sign up to play sports at Oxford, you commit to maintaining a drug-free status. Many of you are here on scholarships, and substance abuse can jeopardize that. As the Dean, I have the authority to carry out random drug tests at my discretion. And before you complain that the rugby team is being singled out, be aware that I will be implementing these tests across all sports clubs."

The coach swung open the locker room door, ushering in two nurses amid some catcalls from a few of the players. "That's enough!" he shouted, shaking his head in disapproval as the nurses wheeled in a cart filled with small cups. "Two of you will step up at a time and provide your samples in these cups, while these kind ladies will conduct the tests. Once you finish, go run laps on the field."

Henry was among the first players to step up and provide a urine sample for one of the nurses. He entered a stall for privacy, relieved himself into the cup, and then handed it over to the nurse before thoroughly washing his hands. As he left the locker room, he exchanged a meaningful glance with Darren, who remained inside.

Meanwhile, Millicent and Abby were seated in the stands, puzzled as they observed the players gradually making their way onto the field, a departure from their usual collective entrance. Millicent voiced her confusion, asking, "What's happening?"

Abby, equally in the dark, shrugged before checking her phone, which had just received a notification.

Millicent's attention remained fixed on the field, where all the guys were dispersing and running around. Then, she noticed the coach approaching with her father. She nudged Abby and pointed to the field, their curiosity piqued as they observed Kyle and Ben being summoned.

"Walker! Bradshaw!"

Kyle and Ben exchanged baffled glances before jogging over to where their coach and the Dean awaited them. They were then escorted off the field and out of sight. Millicent was left utterly bewildered, and she turned to Henry for answers, finding him watching the situation unfold with his hands on his hips and an enormous grin on his face. She couldn't help but ask out loud, "What did he do?"

***

"This is fucking stupid. We don't do drugs..." Ben protested, his frustration evident as he nudged Kyle beside him. Darren, seated across from them, observed the exchange along with their coach, his expression inscrutable.

"Dean... these boys are some of my best players. You can't kick them off the team," the coach appealed.

"My hands are tied," Darren began with a weary sigh. He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled as he gazed thoughtfully at the two athletes before him. "Sometimes urine tests yield false positives. So, I'll send both of you for a blood test. If it comes back negative, I'll personally offer you an apology."

Kyle shook his head in disbelief, while their coach tried to offer some reassurance. "That's the best-case scenario. Let's just get this over with and move on, boys."

"Fine," Ben grumbled, rising abruptly from his chair. "My father will hear about this."

Darren, maintaining unwavering eye contact, responded coolly, "I hope he does. I'd welcome a conversation with your father about your... activities around campus."

Ben shot one last nervous glance at Darren before he and Kyle exited the office with their coach, leaving Darren alone with his thoughts.

Chapter 28

taglist: @kingliam2019

[junobutbored]

Frosty Blue

Satoru Gojo imagine

Two children from different backgrounds end up being forever connected as a result of an unexpected encounter in the forest.

Author's note: This is just a little scenario of mine, will maybe turn it into a series but we'll see. Enjoy!

Winter had always been her preferred season, for with the dark times followed a quietness that would match no other. The dense layer of newly fallen snow suppressed all background noise of reality, even those disturbing the mind. Calmness settled over the young girl as she stood in the deep forest, admiring the thick snowflakes that tingle down from above. Nothing could disturb her in this state. Not even the freezing breeze that penetrated her mono colored yukata nor the overwhelmingly dark forest that were only illuminated by great the crescent moon settled in the big black ink.

The girls' eyes closely traced the falling snow until it finally rested onto the ground. From there the cycle continued endlessly until her eyes finally rested upon another pair. The light from the moon shone upon him as he too stared onto the girl. The young boys' expression was dull and not even the chilled breeze seemed to break his eye contact. The girl cowered backwards when her trance was broken and reality brought her back. Had I not heard the sound of snow crunching under his step? When she brought her gaze upon the boy again, his expression had changed. His bright eyes were now slightly dilated and his lips were caught in an "o". She also noticed how his hand was stretched towards her, as if he'd been afraid she'd leave. When the boy noticed her observation, he quickly retracted his arm and kept it tight against his small form. The boy cleared his throat and took the first step in starting the conversation.

"What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?" he gently asked the young girl as if he was addressing a frightened animal. The girl clenched her fists in the thin fabric of her clothing and kept her eyes on her slippers beneath her.

"Nothing, just admiring the snow." She paused lightly before quickly bowing before him. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you, please don't be mad at me." The girl stood almost completely still in her bowing motion and her eyes were shut tightly as she awaited his response. The boy on the other hand was simply shocked from her reaction. His immediate thought was to walk towards her to raise the girl from her position, however as soon as he began to march up to her she at once hunched away on a defensive matter. He quickly stopped. For the first time in a while, the boy didn't have any idea what to do. There was always something swiftly coming to his mind, but in a situation like this, standing alone with a frightened girl in the deep forest late at night, his head was empty. So he just stood still. Her whole body was shaking slightly but he didn't know if it was because of the cold or out of fear. After a while, the girl slowly craned her head upwards and looked at him almost confused. Her arms unwrapped slightly from around her body and the boy carefully took a step back.

"Don't worry, I'm not mad at you. In fact, it was you who was being disturbed so I should be the one apologizing." The boy paused slightly before stretching his hand towards her again. Her shutter passed unnoticed. "My name is Satoru, what's yours?"

The girl glanced at Satoru's hand suspiciously before slowly greeting his handshake with her own palm. As soon as their hands made contact, Satoru was the one to tremble.

"Gee you're so cold, no wonder why your lips are turned all blue." He laughed slightly to himself as he pulled a hand through his snow white hair. The girl looked confused and gently touched her own lips with the tip off her fingers. That was another thing she hadn't known before. The pair of frosty blue eyes met with her own again and Satoru grasped her hand from her face.

"Come with me! I'm sure the servants can find you something warmer to wear at home and perhaps even some hot tea." The boy smiled widely and as soon as the girl made the slightest motion of a nod, Satoru began to drag her through the forest. She gasped slightly as she almost lost footing but quickly regathered her balance.

There they were, two young children who are complete strangers to each other, one leading the other into the safety of his home. The great trees of the deep forest flashed past them as they ran through the snow-tucked landscape. She saw the silver tufts of his head, decorated with a crown of even brighter white snowflakes. As the two finally reached the streets of civilization, the air was filled with both of their gasps for air. Both she and Satoru had stopped briefly to regain their energy from running constantly. Their eyes once again locked and the two children broke out in giggles. Satoru still held her hand tightly as he gestured to her to continue their walk. However the joyful atmosphere didn't hold for long.

"Where have you been, girl?" The older man's voice boomed over the streets and Satoru felt her grip on him tighten as the elder now'd started to march towards the two. "Do you know what time it is?!"

The girl's eyes met with Satoru's brilliant blue ones and he could tell just by her look that the man's presence wasn't precisely cherished. She looked back onto the man that now reached the two and he shot out his arm to grasp her free arm. Satoru didn't have any time to react.

"Hey you answer me you dreadful fry" The man roared at her as he pulled her close to his face.

"I-I'm sorry sir, I didn't know it was this late."

Satoru stood before the two in confusion. Who was this man even? As he stood there watching them anxiously, the older man caught his eye and his expression quickly fell. The man threw himself onto the dirty street, dragging Satoru's new friend with him harshly. She yelped as her knees hit the cold stone.

"I apologize for this mishap, my lord. This filth won't bother you again." The man grasped her head and puched it down until it too was planted onto the ground. This time the girl didn't make any resistance. "Please accept our forgiveness and let us be on our way, Gojo sir."

Gojo. She had heard that name before. It was one of the great jujutsu families. Father had told her before that one of their houses resided close to her village but never had she seen them before. However rumors of the white haired boy with special techniques had spread around the civilians when the clan had built the great temple-like fortress by the other side of the dense forest. Her father jerked her from the ground and pulled her away from where Satoru stood. Before disappearing behind a building, the girl locked eyes with the opposite frosty blue ones. No goodbye's or farewell's were exchanged through words, but behind both of their eyes resided the same thought.

There Satoru stood alone, in the late evening, longing for a girl he'd just met. A girl he never got the name of. A girl who he'd never forget.

A girl he'd meet again in the future.

We'll meet again..don't know where, don't know when..

But I know we'll meet again some sunny day....

[kurosukii]

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞

pairing: oikawa tooru x f!reader

summary: there’s no one you hate more on this earth than your school’s cocky volleyball captain, and being paired with him for a class project just honestly takes the cake. 

genre: college au, enemies to enemies fucking au.

warnings: 18+. hate sex (oiks is a meanie here but so are you, kinda), slight size kink, against the wall sex, facetiming (noncon to dubcon), exhibitionism (noncon to dubcon), voyeurism (noncon to dubcon), dacryphilia, ass play, multiple orgasms (oiks has mad stamina), degradation, slight praise, face-fucking, oral (m receiving), tit-fucking, unprotected sex, overstimulation, squirting, spanking, dirty talk, humiliation, dumbification, spitting, cumplay, creampie, hair pulling, pet names (bunny), implied seijoh four x reader

word count: 6.9k

author’s note: not much to say about this other than i’m a SEIJOH FOUR WHORE!!!! (let me know if i missed any warnings) (MINORS DNI)

[2:11 PM]

you honestly think the world hates you.

you tried your hardest to stifle your groan and not slam your head on the desk when the professor called out your name with your self-proclaimed “enemy”, oikawa tooru, for the project that was worth forty percent of your grade this semester.

when class ended, you marched ‘respectfully’ to your professor to negotiate if you can work on this project alone, but even before a word even slipped out of your mouth, your professor raised their eyebrow at you, sensing what you were going to say and just said “just deal with it” and “stop acting like a high school student”.

well, that was an ice cold bucket of reality that was just poured on you.

you were definitely acting like a high school student, and the cause of your behavior was none other than one of your school’s most obnoxious athletes, oikawa tooru.

seriously, there was just something about him that irked you so much. maybe it’s an accumulation of all his actions, his smugness, and the way he turns his nose on everyone, but all the girls and guys seemed to keep running back to him. everyone saw him as the ‘perfect king’, but you knew better. at least, you seemed to think so.

sometimes, you’d feel embarrassed at the way you were feeling and acting. you were raised to be a respectful person with good manners and conduct, so every time you get the pep talk from the imaginary angel on your shoulder, you’d try your best to be amicable with oikawa for every interaction since you shared multiple classes with him. but every time you did so, oikawa would end up doing something that broke your resolve and you were back to square one again. it seemed like the guy got off to annoying the shit out of you and making your day terrible.

with the professor long gone from the lecture room, you were left alone with your thoughts, up until you heard someone click their tongue. you shook your head as you turned to the source of the sound.

“aw, do you not want to be paired with me that badly? i’m not that bad! i’m going to help you do the work if that’s what you’re so worried about, sweetheart,” oikawa taunted in that lilting voice of his, with brown eyes glinting in mischief as he tossed his hair back.

“fuck off, tooru. just don’t slack off on this project or i’ll kick your ass,” you threatened him, anger slowly rising. he laughed at you, mirth making his eyes disappear. your lips thinned to a line as your anger increased.

you called him by his first name, not bothering with the respect (if he even deserved that) that came with addressing someone with their family name since you ‘hated’ his guts anyway, but somewhere deep down, you called him tooru because you like the way it sounded.

you liked the way it fell from your lips with a sigh whenever you touched yourself in the privacy of your room. the post nut clarity always hits you hard after orgasming with his face in your mind. maybe that’s why you pretended to hate him so much, because you were really just like the other girls. you were just as enamored by him as the other fangirls were, only they embraced it while you still denied it. nevertheless, the hornier you felt for him, the easier it was to channel that into anger and exasperation against him.

meanwhile, you didn’t notice it, as you were too busy in your own bubble, but his eyes darkened when he heard his given name slip from your lips. he’s more accepting of his desire for you, fucking his fist nearly every night with the thought of you underneath him, begging him to fuck that naughty pussy of yours to oblivion.

oh he knew that you were just putting up a front, and he let you. he knew it in the way your stares would linger and change into something deeper—more carnal. you thought he wouldn’t notice.

but he did.

he notices everything about you just like how he notices every play on the court. he relishes in it, practically keeping a tally in his head, so when he finally gets to pound your cunt, he’d confront you about it, and there’s nothing you can do about but accept his cock and his words.

he shook his head from his dark, carnal thoughts and slowly walked towards you, shoulders tightening as he fought the urge to slam you down on the table and fuck your cunt and make you scream so loud that people will come running.

you stood your ground as you looked up at him, which is a feat because you were damn near shaking and the tightening coil in your lower stomach was not helping either.

damn you oikawa tooru, you growled in your head.

he leaned down towards you until your noses were almost touching, with his bubblegum breath fanning your face and chocolate eyes boring into your own. “don’t worry sweetheart, i’m not going to let you do this on your own. what kind of guy would i be if i let you slave over this without my help? tsk, that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me, now would it?” he says as he straightened his body, with attitude and face going back to his usual demeanor, different from the one before.

you sucked in a breath as he pulled away and he smirked at you. “see you later at 7pm, sweetheart. you know where my place is, don’t you?” he asked you absentmindedly, making your blood boil at the audacity of him expecting you knew where he lived, and you did, but that’s besides the point. he was just so fucking obnoxious.

you scoffed an affirmative at him which made his smirk grow wider. “count the hours until you get to see me again, darling. i know i will,” he winked salaciously as he turned his back on you, wiggling his fingers as a sign of goodbye. you didn’t bother to grace him with a respectful farewell. instead, you raised your middle finger at him that was accompanied by a glare.

he just laughed at you, “always so mad at me, sweetheart. maybe you need to remove some of that tension,” his gaze smoldered, eyes turning into molten brown.

you involuntarily gulped as he slowly looked you up and down. he made eye contact with you, eyes still dark, as he licked his lips. he looked like he was about to pounce on you and devour you. It took him every ounce of his focus and self-control before his lips curved into his i’m so perfect and you’re not smile and blew you a kiss as he finally walked off to his next class.

you bit your tongue to prevent yourself from screaming as you cursed oikawa in your head to hell and back. the nerve of this dickhead, you thought to yourself. you grumbled more to yourself as you hiked your bag over your shoulder and walked out of the lecture room. you were done for the day and despite what oikawa thinks, you weren’t going to count the hours until you get to be in his apartment with him. alone.

but then again, all you did was lie to yourself wherever he was concerned, because you definitely didn’t twiddle your thumbs for five hours, took a shower and shaved, basically pampered yourself to look good and decent for him. no, you definitely didn’t do any of that for him.

if you were paired with another person, you would have definitely arrived ten minutes before the set time, but because it was oikawa, you took your sweet time going to his apartment, annoyance brewing. what was so wrong with living on campus? you asked yourself along the way, which made you even more annoyed because he didn’t even offer to pick you up at the train station. not that he needed to, but the courtesy would’ve been nice and it would’ve made you see him differently, but he didn’t do any of that so you’re stuck stomping your way to his apartment building.

“are you sure about this, oikawa? makki and i don’t mind having front row seats to this shit,” mattsun smirked, arms resting on the back of the couch in the spacious apartment. oikawa invited them to hang out after practice because he said he had a “surprise” for them.

“don’t know about the other one there, though,” mattsun nodded to iwaizumi who was brooding by the floor to ceiling window, arms crossed as he raised his eyebrow at mattsun. “maybe he wants in on it,” makki piped which made all three of them laugh at iwaizumi while he just told all of them to fuck off. he didn’t want to admit it, but he wanted to see you put in your place as well.

he wouldn’t have given a fuck about your petty and sexual tension-filled issues with his captain, but you also gave him grief whenever he was with oikawa and what better way than to witness, and probably have a hand in, seeing you begging and whining for your cunt to be filled with cum?  

“don’t worry guys, you’ll definitely have your turns,” oikawa’s eyes glinted as he smirked at his friends. “looks like little bunny is running late,” he checked his wall clock and tutted to himself.

sheesh, guess the king really does live lavishly, you grumbled to yourself as you stared at the intimidating complex. most college students are broke, live in school sponsored dormitories, and survive on store bought ramen, but oikawa obviously isn’t like most college students. you shook your head at the clear social divide and pushed through the spinning doors, the cool air of the lobby blowing into your face as you shivered from the temperature.

you walked up to the receptionist’s desk–of course there’s a receptionist–and you asked her what floor and room number oikawa’s apartment was. you just about thanked her when your phone pinged so you took it out and checked the message.

“you’re running late, little bunny. might have to punish you for this.”

your legs squirmed as you felt your panties dampen at oikawa’s text. your clothes seemed hotter now and you pulled at your collar. you cleared your throat and nodded to the receptionist as you walked to the elevator.

before you knew it, you found yourself before oikawa’s door. you were about to knock but it opened, revealing his shirtless form. you gulped and couldn’t help but stare at his lithe body, with droplets of water slowly trickling down his abdomen and disappearing through the waistband of his sweatpants. you raised your eyes to meet his. he was smirking at you, his smug face satisfied with your perusal of him. he was drying his damp hair with a towel, and it made his biceps ripple. why does he have to be so goddamn obnoxious and hot.

“are you done staring at me bunny? as much as i love your gaze on my body, that’s not what you’re here for, unless…?” he taunted you, his body lazily leaning against the doorframe as his tongue slowly licked the bottom of his lip as he stared at you this time. you scoffed at him, and didn’t bother to wait for his invitation inside his apartment.

you lightly shoved him, careful not to make most of your skin touch, which was a feat since he was naked from the waist up. “you wish, tooru. stop being stupid and let’s get this done and over with,” you muttered in annoyance, standing in the middle of his living room with your arms crossed and quietly observing your surroundings. “and don’t call me bunny!” you snarled at him, eyes meeting his glowing brown ones.

“i’ll call you anything i want to, bunny, and seeing that you’re in my home, you don’t get to have the privilege to order me around here, understand?” he warned you, voice lowering by a few octaves. if you had a tail, it would’ve been tucked between your legs by now. you bit your tongue and nodded at him with your eyes lowered. he smiled devilishly at you and turned his still shirtless body in the direction of what you presumed to be his room.

“let’s do this in my room, bunny. i have everything we need there,” you followed him without a word, realising that you were indeed powerless here. you didn’t notice the smug smile he was sporting, however, because his muscular back was turned to you. each step to his bedroom was a step closer to what he and by extension, his friends, had in store for you.

you entered his room and you marveled at his king size bed that was covered in navy blue sheets. there was a tall shelf against the off white walls that was filled with a few alien and ufo figurines, trophies, and framed pictures of him and his team.

you turned to him to ask about what he wanted to do until you felt him loom over you. he looked at you like you were his prey and he was the predator, which was not a far cry because you really did feel like a bunny and he was the big bad wolf. his dark eyes seared into your body as you felt your heartbeat quicken.

in one blink, he had you on your back on the soft bed with your wrists pinned together with one big hand as he nuzzled his nose on your neck and inhaled. “you smell so good, bunny. did you clean yourself up for me?” he hummed and shamelessly snaked out his tongue to lick a stripe on your neck which made you squeal at the hot and wet muscle against your skin. “taste good too,” he chuckled, the vibrations and heat of his breath making your spine tingle and arousal grow.

his timing was impeccable, he pinned you down before you even had the chance to notice the phone propped on the table beside his bed, with a fancy desktop where a few books laid askew, and his friends staring intently from the small screen. mattsun opened his mouth and before he could break the tension, makki slapped his hand over it and quietly shushed him. iwaizumi was too transfixed at the situation before him to reprimand mattsun for almost interrupting.

“t-tooru! get off—” you weren’t able to finish your sentence before oikawa bit the skin of your neck to quiet you down. “you should be honest with yourself, you know? i know how you look at me,” he teased you, slowly kissing down your body through your shirt. 

“not so feisty now, hm? you’re so putty in my hands,” he rose to his knees on the bed and let go of your wrists. you raised your arm to slap him on the face but he caught it, he also grabbed your other arm and slightly squeezed them as a sign of warning. “there she is, my feisty little girl,” he smirked down at you. his brown hair glistening in the low light of his bedroom as his dark eyes glinted at you.

he transferred your other wrist to his one hand as he slowly untied the strings on his sweatpants. you didn’t miss the growing bulge in pants, cock hardening at what was about to happen. you swallowed the lump in your throat because after so many nights of fantasizing and imagining, you’re going to finally see what he would look like under all those clothes.

“you want my cock? of course you do, your eyes are practically dripping with greed,” he mocked you, his hand slowly lowering his pants until his naked cock sprang free and bounced on his abdomen. fuck, he wasn’t wearing any underwear. your pussy gushed at the thought of him lounging around his apartment with only a thin fabric separating his cock from exposure.

“got nothing to say, hm? i was hoping you’d run your mouth just so i could have the excuse of shutting you up with my cock,” he taunted, eyes studying your face as a smirk stretched his lips. “did seeing my cock shut you up? i do have a pretty cock, don’t i?” he questioned you rhetorically.

you hated it because he was right. his cock was as pretty as him and it was enough to swallow on the words rising from your throat. it wasn’t overly girthy but you knew that it would still cause damage just by watching it pulse and throb, with pre-cum leaking from its tip.

“i’m going to let go of your hands now, slutty bunny, and you’re going to suck my cock until i fill your throat and mouth with my hot cum,” he told you in a matter of fact tone, and you really wished your weak self would protest and shove him away and bolt from his apartment to disappear from the face of the earth, but you couldn’t deny this opportunity, couldn’t deny yourself anymore, and oikawa knew that. he’s playing you like a fiddle and you’re absolutely falling for it.

he let go of your hands and you immediately gripped his cock, the other one holding on to his muscled thigh for balance. you licked one long line on the underside of his shaft before going back to suck the pre-cum on his tip. he tightly closed his eyes as he groaned, putting one hand on the back of your head and felt his thigh tense at the stimulation brought by your tongue.

your lips curled into a smug smile at oikawa’s reaction. he noticed it and glared down at you, he was about to say something before you widened your mouth to fit his entire cock in one go. you slightly gagged when he hit the back of your throat. oikawa threw his head back as he let out a long and loud moan, cock twitching in the heat and wetness of your mouth.

determined to make oikawa lose his shit, you started bobbing your head as you licked and sucked on his throbbing cock, maintaining eye contact with him. his lips were parted as he stared down at your moving head, eyes smoldering and grip tightening. you watched as his chest heaved up and down, his breathing becoming heavier.

oikawa lightly shook his head to get rid of the haze your mouth put him in and squeezed the roots of your hair. you moaned in pain while you narrowed your eyes at him. just when you were about to give him a lashing, he cut you off.

“my cock may be in your mouth but this is not your time to shine, bunny. you do have a good mouth on you, but i’m here to fuck that mouth until you learn your place,” he growled at you, the vein in his temple pulsing as he tried to regain control.

you didn’t even have time to think before he pulled out and slammed his cock back inside your mouth, balls hitting your chin. you cried around his cock as your eyes immediately watered at the sudden force of his thrust. you squeezed his thighs as a sign for him to settle before he fucked your mouth like a fleshlight.

unfortunately, he only gave you a few moments to get used to his size before his hands bundled your hair into a makeshift ponytail and used them as leverage to fuck his cock in and out of your mouth. he groaned as he watched the tears from your eyes fall around your full cheeks as you moaned like a whore with his cock in your mouth.

“i bet you touch yourself to the thought of me, huh?” he taunted you, not stopping from his thrusts. you whined pathetically and felt slick from your cunt wet your panties. “fuck, you do. just how much of a slutty hypocrite are you? all you do is lie to yourself-shit, that’s good–and pretend to hate me when you’re just like everyone else,” he growled, thrusting deep until he hit the back of your throat, clearly frustrated with your actions. you were slobbering all over his cock, saliva and pre-cum staining your face with how fast he was thrusting, while it dripped on the sheets below you.

his groans grew louder and his thrusts became sloppier as he neared his orgasm. you so badly wanted to touch yourself but with the way you were positioned, you’d end up choking on oikawa’s cock if you removed your hands from his thighs. instead, you tried your best to ignore the growing ache in your pussy.

“swallow all my cum, you slutty whore,” he ordered you, voice straining as he delivered one final thrust inside of your mouth before you felt the warm spurts of his cum paint the insides of your mouth and throat. you moaned at the heat, your mouth so full of his cock and cum that you tapped his thigh to give you room to breathe. thankfully, he pulled out his cock with a pop as you inhaled loudly, throat raw from the fucking it experienced.

even if he didn’t tell you, you would’ve swallowed his cum to try and make a statement. he gripped your chin as he inspected your mouth, eyes flashing in satisfaction when he saw your mouth empty. “that’s a good fucking girl,” he said, thumb going inside of your mouth as he pushed on your tongue. you closed your eyes as you breathed heavily, hands hanging limply on your thighs.

oikawa seized the opportunity to swiftly look at his phone, smirking at his friends when he noticed them shifting uncomfortably. iwaizumi flipped him off and oikawa just winked at him.

he turned back to you with your eyes still closed, stealthily blocking your view of his phone as he pulled his thumb from your mouth and licked it. his cock was still hard, owing to the pent-up tension that you have been giving him ever since day one.

he shoved you so your back landed on the bed as he straddled your waist, kicking off the rest of his sweatpants and chucking them to the floor. you opened your eyes as you yelped at the sudden movement, wondering what the fuck he was going to do now.

“what are you do–” you questioned him, but before you could finish, he ripped your shirt into two pieces. your eyes widened in protest as your sports bra-clad chest was exposed to him. “i’m going to fuck these pretty tits, whore,” he said as he squeezed your breasts together and groped them, making your nipples harden into peaks.

you moaned at his touch, finally feeling some stimulation on your body after aching for so long. he lowered his head down to your chest and started sucking on your nipple through the fabric. you threw your head back on his pillow and whined, his hard cock grinding on your thigh at the sounds you were making. he sucked and licked until your back arched to him, silently begging for more.

he raised his head from your chest which made you whimper at the loss of warmth. he looked wild, like he was a man on a mission.

his large hands reached for your bra and stretched the fabric until your tits were exposed to the cool air of his room. you moaned at the feeling of being exposed to oikawa, he stared at your hardened nipples, watching as his cock twitched against his abdomen. you watched his adam’s apple bob until you saw his mouth open. he spit on the valley between your breasts, string connecting from his lips. you moaned at the obscenity of his actions, spit feeling cold and thick as it ran down your chest.

he groaned at the sight, one hand guiding his cock under your bra and inserting himself between your tits. once he settled in between them, he squeezed them together to create that tightness. it wasn’t enough but he’s been wanting to fuck your tits, and it’s finally happening now. he thrusted and groaned at the softness of your breasts squeezing his cock.

his cockhead hit your chin, making it wet with your saliva mixed with his cum. your body rocked along with his thrusts, hearing him grunt and moan as he squeezed and fucked your tits. you wanted to touch yourself, but he was holding you down so you couldn���t reach your pussy. his thrusts became faster and your breasts became wetter as he neared his second orgasm of the night.

you watched him and you became even more annoyed because even in the throes of passion, he was still so pretty. pink lips parted as he breathed loudly, brown eyes darkening the more he looked at you, and that drop of sweat from his neck going down his defined chest.

“g-gonna cum bunny, fuck,” he grunted loudly, head thrown back as his cock spilled his cum and landed on your chin, neck, and chest. he stopped moving and stared at his work in amazement. you glared at him, because although he looked divine when he came, you still hadn’t experienced any type of relief for the night.

“tooru, i’m starting to think you can’t make a girl cum,” you raised your eyebrow in defiance, looking at him boredly, arms supporting you as you lifted your body in a sitting position. “all you did was pleasure yourself. do you even know how to pleasure a girl?” you taunted him, displeasure clearly written over your face. he watched your expression and smirked to himself.

the nerve of this guy.

“oh bunny, i can definitely pleasure you and make you cum. several times, in fact,” he said, eyes tracing his finger as he spread his cum all over your chest. “i just had the foresight to let myself cum twice because if i went straight to fucking you, you’d pass out before i even got my fill of you,” he purred, cock twitching again.

“and i want you to be aware of everything i’m going to do to your body,” he ended his statement with a pinch to your nipple. you yelped at the sting and swatted his hand away. he let out a low laugh before he grabbed your hips and abruptly flipped you over to your stomach.

“let’s remove these pesky shorts, shall we?” he said as he slapped your ass hard. you squealed at the pain, almost forgetting that he’s a volleyball captain and you’ve seen how lethal his serves can be. but you know that he’s not putting all of his strength in that slap. he laughed at your reaction and slapped the other cheek of your ass before pulling your shorts down and throwing it to the floor, eyes subtly flicking to the table.

“pretty ass wearing pretty panties,” he whispered, his index finger tracing the white lace of your panties. your face flushed in embarrassment because you know he’s thinking that you wore those for him. you did, but you’re never going to admit that.

never in a million years.

“your reaction tells me all i need to know, bunny. you definitely wore these for me,” he growled, his large hand coming down to your ass again as you cried at the pain. he watched the plumpness of your ass jiggle before he landed a few more consecutive slaps on the skin.

satisfied with the redness of your ass and the whimpering that came out of your mouth, he tore your panties into two flimsy pieces. he slowly removed them from your pussy, your wetness clinging on to them and forming a string. “can’t wait to fuck this dirty pussy, bunny,” he groaned as he watched it, cock pulsing at the tip.

he didn’t even bother removing your cum stained bra before he pulled your hips up until you were on your knees. he pushed his hand on your lower back, forming a deep arch until you bared your wet pussy to him. leaving one hand on your hip, he guided his throbbing cock to your clenching pussy and ran his tip along your folds. both of you moaned at the stimulation, sensitivity running down your bodies. you gulped at how he was going to make himself fit.

he stopped at your clenching hole before he pushed the tip in, squeezing your hip as he groaned, feeling the tightness around his head. you were about to thrust yourself on his cock because he was taking his sweet time before he shoved himself, making the both of you cry out as he bottomed out in your pussy. he gave an experimental roll of his hips which made your pussy flutter around his cock. he moaned at the sensation, bracing both of his hands on your hips.

he pulled back out and thrusted harder this time, drawing out a moan from you at the force and fisted the sheets in your hands. he began snapping his hips against your ass as you moaned louder.

“look at how my cock’s splitting you,” he grunted, eyes trained at how his cock was disappearing in your cunt. “swallowing my cock like it’s nobody’s business. your fingers aren’t enough. no, you need my cock,” he hissed as he punctuated each word with a hard thrust. he slapped your ass every time he thrusted back in, the double stimulation making you moan like a whore.

his obsession with your ass didn’t stop there. he stopped spanking your ass and centered on the puckered ring that was slightly clenching. he tilted his head to the side and stared at it in wonder. he gathered the saliva in his mouth as he spat on it. you squealed at the new sensation, body rubbing against the bed as he brought his thumb to play with the tight ring, an area you never dared to touch.

“t-tooru, that’s dirty!” you cried out in indignation, trying to squirm away from his finger, but you couldn’t because his cock was drilling your pussy to the bed.

“so? it’s perfect for a fucking dirty girl like you,” he growled, thinking twice if he should insert his thumb in your asshole, but he decided not to. he figured you weren’t ready for that, yet.

he removed his finger from your asshole as he gripped your hips to fuck you even harder, clearly frustrated that he wasn’t able to plunge his thumb in your ass. you moaned at the harshness of his thrusts as he pushed on the back of your neck to the bed. you whined at the pressure, switching your head to the side as you focused on oikawa’s brutal thrusts. that was when you noticed a phone on the table, seeing three red faces peering at you.

“oh my god, are they watching us?!” your eyes widened as you cried out. oikawa looked to the side and chuckled. “took you long enough. they were starting to feel lonely because you weren’t noticing them–fuck, that’s a good pussy,” he hissed as he felt your cunt tighten around his cock.

“why don’t you scream for them as well, hm?” he said as he delivered a particularly hard thrust that made you moan loudly while looking at his friends. iwa, makki, and mattsun groaned at your reaction, shifting their pants as they stayed in their respective places in the next room.

“t-tooru, please turn off your phone!” you cried, tears streaming down your face as you felt shame, embarrassment, and surprisingly, arousal creeping up your sweaty body. were you getting turned on by his friends watching your pussy get fucked?

“fuck, you’re so pretty when you cry,” he groaned as he spanked your ass once more, thrusting harder as he felt your cunt squeeze the shit out of his cock, clearly enjoying the fact that you were getting excited about being watched.

“and besides, i don’t think you really want me to. i think you like getting fucked stupid for my friends to see,” oikawa taunted you, his hands squeezing the fat of your hips. he moved your bodies so you were facing his phone head on, your fucked out face clear for them to watch. you lowered your head to save some of your dignity but he pulled your hair, neck straining as he showed your face to show them.

“tsk, don’t hide your face from them, bunny, let them see how good i’m fucking you,” he said as he looked at his phone, smirking at his friends who glared at him, clearly wanting to leave and bust the door down just to prove him wrong.

“after all, you are an attention whore. i’m just giving you what you want,” he whispered as he leaned down to bite the lobe of your ear. you whined at his strong thrusts, slick from your pussy sliding down your thighs.

“maybe you want them to come in here after i’m done with you and use you as a cum dumpster, do you want that?” he asks, hips thrusting hard as his balls hit your sopping cunt. you whined at his statement, hands gripping the sheets as your vision blurred from the pleasure.

“y-yes i want that! shit, t-tooru, feels so fucking good,” you whined, brain turning into mush as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. your legs were starting to tremble as your orgasm was fast approaching. oikawa knew you were going to cum so he pulled your hair harder and leaned down to whisper in your ear, his sweaty torso covering the expanse of your back.

“it’s okay, you can say it, tell me you love the way i’m fucking this filthy pussy. you’re the only one who doesn’t want to admit it,” he growled in your ear as he furiously played with your clit, making the knot in your stomach threaten to burst from his ministrations.

“i l-love the way you’re f-fucking me tooru! so fucking good, yes—!” you screamed as you came all around his cock, body shaking from the intense orgasm. oikawa groaned loudly as he filled you up with his cum, yours mixing with his. you moaned at the warmth in your pussy, breathing heavily as you tried to regain your senses. he came so much that it was sliding down your legs and staining his sheets.

you looked up at his phone and saw his friends staring at you with their jaws dropped. you would laugh at how comical they looked if you hadn’t just experienced the best fucking of your life, though you’ll never say that to oikawa. ever. you sighed instead, feeling icky with all the cum on and in your body.

you were about to lay on your back until oikawa carried you off the bed and slammed you against the wall, his hand cushioning your head from the hard cement. you yelped as your head spinned from the sudden movement.

“oh? you thought we were done? i promised to make you cum several times, didn’t i?” he smirked at you. you were amazed at his strength, his biceps flexing as he wrapped your still shaking legs around his waist. he didn’t even give you time to breathe before he plunged his hard cock inside your leaking pussy. fuck, this man’s stamina is endless.

you moaned wantonly as he pistoned his hips in and out of your cunt, hands squeezing the back of your thighs. your sweaty back was sliding against the wall as your body moved up and down, hands holding his shoulders for support. you noticed that you were still wearing your bra and it made you uncomfortable at the restriction it was causing to your tits.  

“we want to see her tits, oikawa!” mattsun exclaimed. he was practically bouncing in his seat in excitement. iwaizumi didn’t stop him because he wanted to see your breasts too.

oikawa  smirked, “you heard what he said, wanna show these tits to them?” you nodded frantically, embarrassment nowhere to be found as you removed your hands from his shoulders, finally removing the stained fabric from your chest. oikawa squeezed them with one big hand as soon as they were exposed causing all of them to collectively groan at the sight while oikawa continued fucking you.

“you walk around hating me only for you to end up getting fucked by my cock?” he growled at you as he ended his sentence with a hard thrust. “how pathetic and cock-hungry you must be. such a fucking whore.” you whined at his words, not being able to say anything because it was true. you were a cock-hungry whore for him, and you loved how he was fucking you with pent-up anger and frustration.

he squeezed your hips tighter, all the accumulated fluids in between you making lewd squelching sounds as you neared your orgasm once again. “to–tooru, fuck!” you screamed, cunt clenching as his cock hit your sweet and sensitive spot, walls fluttering around him.

“cum for me, whore,” he growled as he lowered his head to bite your neck. you came with a scream as you left red lines on his shoulders. his thrusts slowed down as he set your shaking legs down to the floor. he was still inside of you as he leaned his forehead down to yours, eyes closed as a drop of sweat fell from his hairline. his defined chest heaved as he fought to catch his breaths.

he carried you back to the bed with his cock still inside you. you thought he was going to pull out until he grabbed your limp legs and put them on his shoulders. you moaned at the new position, weakly trying to push him away because you were so tired. “n-no more tooru, t-too sensitive!” you weakly protested, hands trying to push yourself away from him.

“i think your dirty cunt can give me one more orgasm, hm? can you be a good whore and do that for me?” he cooed at you, thumbs slightly rubbing your ankles. you softly nodded at him, enamored by his sparkling brown eyes, or were you just drunk on his cum and musky scent? either way, his cock was too good to deny, even if your pussy was already close to being numb.

he smiled devilishly at you, he hugged your legs closer to his body as he started thrusting once more. you were practically incoherent, mouth sputtering unintelligible words and high pitched whines as oikawa rode your pussy. he let one leg fall off his shoulder as he gripped the headboard, mattress squeaking from his deep thrusts.

you watched as a drop of sweat fell from his neck and travelled down his chest and abdomen to mix with your joined bodies. you were so wet and slick down there that every thrust oikawa made only served to make your pussy throb and pulse around him more. you were moaning with reckless abandon, uncaring of the people that were watching your bruised cunt getting relentlessly fucked, only caring to climax one final time just so tooru would let you go and pass out on his bed.

oikawa was thrusting so hard and fast that the headboard was banging against the wall, with your breasts bouncing up and down along with it. you could tell that he too was at his limit, judging by how his thrusts became sloppier and erratic and his moans increasing in volume and pitch.

“t-tooru, g-gonna cum, please,” you said, he groaned as he brought down his arm from the headboard and played with your clit, pinching it with his fingers, making you scream and arch your back as you squirted all around him. he came with a loud moan as he saw the clear liquid shoot out from your pussy, drenching his abdomen. “fuck, did you just squirt?” he breathed in amazement, eyes widened and mouth dropped.

he set your leg down and pulled out as he watched your mixed fluids trickle out of your cunt. you were too fucked out to care as he played with your pussy, your mouth open and eyes drooping as you breathed loudly and heavily. he was pushing the mixed cum back inside your filthy cunt when you heard the door swing open to reveal your three voyeurs, all with tented cocks stretching the front of their pants.

“shit, oikawa. you actually fucked her dumb,” mattsun said in fascination, watching your chest heave up and down. makki hummed in agreement while iwaizumi just stared at your dripping cunt, watching your cum and tooru’s trickling out of your pussy and sliding down your ass, staining the sheets. you shivered at their stares and brought your hand to spread your folds, making them see your filthy pussy better. you smirked lazily as you heard the men in the room groan in unison while you swirled your finger, playing with the cum in your cunt.

“you got room for three more cocks, baby?” mattsun taunted you, three of them entering the room and standing at the foot of the bed. your smirk dropped as you watched iwaizumi take his shirt off, leaning your head back on the pillow as you moaned tiredly, your battered pussy quivering at the thought of more cocks making a mess of your cunt.

needless to say, you and oikawa didn’t get any work done on the project that night.

[9:21 PM]

[galactic-magick]

"You're a Good Kisser": Klaus Hargreeves x Reader

Request: hey! could you maybe do a klaus x reader with 7 or 15 from the prompt list? lotsa love! <3 - @emobensgf

7: “Promise me you’ll be here when I wake up?”

15: “That was definitely a weird way to find out you’re a good kisser.”

Summary: Klaus calls for your help when someone is trying to kill his family, and in the process share your first kiss together.

Words: 1000+

Warnings: canon-typical violence, swearing

Author’s Notes: First time writing for The Umbrella Academy, hope it’s alright!

-

-

-

This certainly wasn’t the first time you had to save Klaus from a sticky situation, but usually they’re not quite this dire and deadly.

You’re used to the common things you’ve been doing since you’ve known him, like helping him sneak out or driving him home when he’s drunk, but now you get to add saving his life to the list.

He sounded frantic on the phone, telling you someone was after him and his family. You head over to where he is as soon as you possibly can, bringing anything you think might help.

“I’m so sorry- I didn’t know who else to call-“ he splutters as you run up to him.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you nod. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him this terrified of anything. “Where is everyone?”

“We figured if we split up it would be harder for them to track us down,” he sighs. “I said that was dumb, though,”

“Yeah, that is pretty dumb,” you shake your head. “So who the hell is after you?”

“Don’t know. Some people just sent us a threatening note and then shot up our house. Five probably did some shit to make people mad or something,”

You laugh, “You ever consider that maybe the rest of you also have the capacity to cause problems?”

“Nah, I’m flawless,” he chuckles.

You gesture for him to get in your car and you drive away from the phone booth, scanning the streets for any sort of clues. It doesn’t seem like Klaus was directly followed, but you can’t promise the same for the rest of his siblings. Especially because apparently none of them bothered to tell Klaus where they were headed.

“They don’t trust me with any information,” he rolls his eyes. “You know, there’s this park we used to go to when we were kids to get away from dad for a while, maybe some of them went there,”

He tells you the address and you drive over, and sure enough you see Allison and Luther.

“There you are,” Klaus huffs. “Is it just you two, or-“

“Klaus, what are you thinking?” Luther cuts him off. “And why the hell are you bringing Y/N into this?”

“Well sorry I wanted to have someone to hang out with when you guys left me alone,”

“Guys!” Allison steps between them, speaking in a loud whisper and pointing across the park. “Look,”

You all shut up pretty quickly, and see a few shadows in the distance.

You grip Klaus’s hand, “Is that…?”

“Yeah, they’re the ones after us,” he nods.

A bullet goes through the air towards Luther, and he dodges it just fast enough. They start marching towards you, shots firing at both you and civilians with no remorse.

“I’ll try to rumor them to stop,” Allison says, running into the crossfire.

“Allison, no!”

“I heard a rumor-“

Luther pushes her out of the way before she can finish.

But that means the bullet that was originally about to hit her is about to hit Klaus.

Without a second thought, nothing but adrenaline running in your veins, you push him out of the way as well, both of you toppling onto the hard ground and your lips crashing together.

You don’t pull away at first, barely registering what happened.

“Well that was definitely a weird way to find out you’re a good kisser,” he chuckles against your mouth.

You push yourself up, dragging him next to you behind a nearby car, “Not the time, Klaus,”

“What? It’s never a bad time to make out,”

You groan, grabbing his shirt and kissing him again, “Will that hold you over until later?”

“Maybe,” he grins.

You peek above the car to see Luther fighting them, punching at least a couple guns out of their hands.

“I’m gonna try to help,” Klaus says, tapping your shoulder and standing up.

“No, wait-“

After you just saved him from getting shot.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

You see Vanya come up to you.

“Vanya!” you smile, happy to see her. “Klaus called me for some help with the situation, but clearly it’s not going very well,” you hear Klaus scream. “Do you know where the others are? We’ll probably stand a better chance with everyone together,”

“Five and Diego shouldn’t be far,” she responds. “I’ll try to hold them off until they get here,”

You watch as she races towards the others. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her powers in action, but you trust her.

Before long Five and Diego show up, and the whole family is able to deal with them. Diego finds out who they were working for, and Luther and Allison check to make sure all the bystanders are okay. It caused quite the commotion, but mostly everyone appears to be alive and well.

You find Klaus on the ground, semi-conscious with a few wounds, thankfully nowhere fatal, but still concerning.

“Talk to me, okay?” you hold his face as his eyes flutter open.

“I’m fine…”

“We’re going to get you home, okay?”

-

You sit in front of Klaus on his bed, first-aid kit in tow. He got a few cuts and bruises, so you do what you can to clean it up and ease the pain. He’s mostly silent, which is rare for him, but he was so close to being knocked out an hour ago you don’t blame him.

“You should be alright for the night,” you say. “But if the cuts don’t close up on their own we might have to get Grace to give you stitches,”

“I’ve been through much worse, I’ll be fine,” he shrugs. “Are we going to talk about that kiss, though?”

You laugh, “You want to?”

“I meant what I said, you’re a very good kisser. And I bet you’re even better when you’re not trying to avoid death,”

“Hmm,” you smile. “You weren’t so bad yourself,”

You start to pack up your things since it’s getting late, and his face falls.

“Could you stay?” he asks.

“I think that’s a little fast for me, Klaus,”

“No, no, c’mon, you know I don’t mean like that,” he chuckles, falling back onto the pillows and blankets. “Just…promise me you’ll be here when I wake up?”

“Okay,” you nod, lying down beside him and kissing his cheek. “I promise.”

[causeiwanttoandican]

Robert Lacey excerpt

I fully expect them to say William was the one commenting about the baby’s skin color after this. Battle stations! Book excerpt

The Times

Prince William ‘split his household from Prince Harry after Meghan bullying claims’

June 07 2021, 7.00am BST

‘So, are you saying,” asked Oprah Winfrey, talking to Meghan and Harry in their famous interview of March 2021, “that there were hints of jealousy?”

She was inquiring about the Sussexes’s wildly successful tour of Australia and the South Pacific of late October 2018, and the couple shifted uncomfortably in their plush wicker chairs.

“Look,” replied Harry, “I just wish that we would all learn from the past.”

By bringing up “the past”, the prince was venturing into an area that was almost taboo. He was making a sensational comparison between his mother and his wife. Harry was suggesting that Meghan had demonstrated in Australia the same massive star quality as Diana and was now having to face the family envy that went along with that.

“It really changed,” he said, “after the Australia tour, after our South Pacific tour . . . it was . . . the first time that the family got to see how incredible she is at the job. And that brought back memories.”

Memories of what? Again Harry shied away from putting words to the almost unmentionable. But Oprah had prepared and polished this moment, like so many others in the interview, and she had a reference ready to prompt her prince’s revelation. The latest, fourth season of TV’s The Crown had depicted Charles and Diana’s 1983 tour of Australia, showing how Diana had been “bedazzling” in her ability “to connect with people”. Episode six had depicted how the crowds would groan when they realised that Charles, not Diana, was walking down their side of the street — hence the beginnings of the “jealousy” on the family’s part.

“So is that what you’re talking about?” asked Oprah. “It brought back memories of that?”

“Yeah,” Harry finally replied in a fashion that was both dismal and unmistakably aggressive.

What on earth had happened, viewers had to wonder, to the old and once-familiar happy side of Prince Harry?

When trying to define the moment that marked the decisive rift with his brother William — the break-up and actual separation of the joint household they had established together in 2009 — Harry would fix upon his triumphant return with Meghan from their Australian tour at the end of October 2018. But if asked the same question, William would have fixed on a more specific event: the explosive argument he had had with his brother earlier that month.

Both brothers agreed how bitterly they had clashed back in the early days over William’s attempt to slow Harry’s courtship of Meghan — “Don’t feel like you need to rush this . . . ” But both of them had subsequently moved on. Harry’s transparent contentment with Meghan had relaxed the tensions, give or take the odd row over bridesmaids’ dresses. The “no speaks” had eased just a little by the time “best man” William escorted his brother down the aisle in May 2018.

Then five months later came the conclusive and determining rupture — the division that has lasted to the present day — though here the brothers’ retelling of history diverged. As Harry explained it to Oprah, Meghan’s Australian tour success sowed the jealousies that caused feelings to “change”. According to this scenario, William and Kate resented the Diana-like popularity that was generated by Harry’s wife. William had a different recollection.

We now know that Princes William and Harry were no longer on speaking terms before the Sussexes set off for Australia. Feelings had already “changed”, as Harry put it, and drastically so. The brothers had parted on extremely poor terms, with the trouble centring on Meghan’s stringent treatment and alleged bullying of her staff.

Most Kensington Palace courtiers were noted for the comparatively long tenures of their comfortable and prestigious jobs. But it came to look as if employees could not wait to escape service with Harry and Meghan. Those who left formed themselves into an informal fraternity that they titled the “Sussex Survivors’ Club”. They had finally hit back, and their organising agent had been PR man Jason Knauf.

The joint communications secretary for Kensington Palace — who was still, at that date, working on behalf of both of the brothers and their wives — had become concerned by the numerous stories of mistreatment being brought to him by colleagues whom he knew well and trusted.

Texas-born and New Zealand-educated, Knauf, 34, was a popular character in Kensington Palace, widely noted for his friendliness and loyalty towards his colleagues. He had been considered a real “catch” when the brothers snared him from the Royal Bank of Scotland in 2015, and one of his concerns was that professional management practices should be more effectively enforced inside the traditional British palace. Knauf’s American sensibilities caused him to see the Meghan situation as raising principles of human resources management in the palace system that needed to be formally addressed.

Knauf’s first priority was to set down the facts, as he saw them, for the record: “I’m very concerned,” he emailed to William’s private secretary Simon Case, in a document he drafted in October 2018, “that the duchess was able to bully two PAs out of the household in the past year.”

Knauf described Meghan’s treatment of one aide as “totally unacceptable . . . the duchess seems intent”, he wrote, “on always having someone in her sights”. Specifying another staff member, Knauf alleged Meghan had been bullying her as well, “seeking to undermine her confidence”. His office had received “report after report”, he wrote, from people who had witnessed “unacceptable behaviour” by Meghan towards this member of staff.

“Meghan governed by fear,” claimed one courtier. “So many people said it. Nothing was ever good enough for her. [She] humiliated staff in meetings, [would] shout at them, [would] cut them off email chains — and then demand to know why they hadn’t done anything.”

As early as 2017, around the time of the couple’s engagement, according to a subsequent report in The Times, a senior aide had spoken to the couple about the difficulties caused by their treatment of staff. “It’s not my job to coddle people,” Meghan was said to have replied.

“Americans can be much more direct,” wrote the authors Omid Scobie and Carolyn Durand in defence of the duchess, “and that often doesn’t sit well in the much more refined institution of the monarchy.”

A Brit might have raised an eyebrow at Meghan’s alleged behaviour, then looked the other way. The Yank decided to act. Knauf was actually one of Meghan’s most senior advisers — her chief adviser, in fact, when it came to public relations. Earlier that year she had gone to Knauf for help when drafting the disputed letter of severance that she sent to her father. She valued his PR expertise.

Before that, Knauf had helped Harry to word the fierce anti-media statements that he had framed to try to protect Meghan from press harassment, both as his girlfriend and then as his fiancée. The PR man had taken considerable stick from some of his non-royal contacts who criticised him as being overprotective in fighting the newcomer’s corner. Like so many people in all the palaces, Knauf had started off on Meghan’s side.

But as the months went by the American’s feelings became more ambiguous, as numerous colleagues — women whom he greatly respected — continued to bring him stories of what they said they had suffered at Meghan’s hands.

“I can’t stop shaking,” one aide had told a colleague in anticipation of an encounter with Meghan. Another reported that the prospect of confrontation with the duchess had made her “feel sick”. “Emotional cruelty and manipulation”, were the words of a third, “which I guess could also be called bullying.”

The b-word featured prominently in the accounts of several, along with an even more sinister set of initials: PTSD. Post-traumatic stress disorder was a deeply serious condition to allege — flashbacks, nightmares and feelings of deep anxiety — but that was how one complainant said that they had felt.

Several people maintained they had been “humiliated” by the duchess, and that criticism extended to Harry as well.

“I overheard a conversation between Harry and one of his top aides,” recalled one Kensington Palace courtier. “Harry was screaming and screaming down the phone. Team Sussex was a really toxic environment. People shouting and screaming in each other’s faces.”

Shouting and screaming? PTSD? Making people feel sick? Prince William went ballistic when he heard the “dossier of distress” that Knauf had gathered. We do not know whether the communications secretary brought his allegations directly to his boss or submitted them via Simon Case. What we do know is that the prince was astonished and horrified. He was instantly furious at what he heard.

“I remember Christian Jones [William’s press secretary and later private secretary] explaining to me how the Cams [the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge] are paternalistic with their staff,” recalls one royal correspondent. “They copy the Queen in that respect with all her Christmas parties and Christmas presents to her people. They’re proud to treat their staff like family. They recognise that they don’t get paid loads of money, so they are just really nice to them. So this was a very deep clash of philosophies, with Meghan being used to a Hollywood service culture — getting exactly what she wanted whenever she wanted in that famous way that Harry said.”

William personally knew and liked all the individuals whom Knauf had named in his dossier. The prince regarded them as assets to his household — colleagues to be cherished and for whom he was responsible. Human beings. Like Knauf, the prince was appalled that his respected staff may have been put in this position.

For William, Knauf’s allegations also clarified something that the prince had long believed — that Meghan was fundamentally hostile towards the royal system, which she failed to understand as an outsider. William wondered if she had not wanted to leave from the very start — even dreaming, perhaps, that she could whisk Harry back with her to North America.

But Meghan’s lawyers and PR representatives said this was quite the wrong interpretation of their client’s thinking and behaviour in a statement that they issued to The Times early in March 2021. They denied all allegations of bullying as inaccurate and the product of what they described as a “smear campaign”. The duchess wished to fit in and be accepted, they insisted. She had left her life in North America to commit herself to her new role.

I have never met Jason Knauf. What you have just read is based upon the published accusations that Knauf set down on paper — refuted as “defamatory”, it must be stressed again, and “based on misleading and harmful information” in the view of the Duchess of Sussex’s lawyers. It also relies upon William’s personal account of these events to one of his friends who then spoke to this author.

The moment the prince heard the bullying allegations, he related to this friend, he got straight on the phone to talk to Harry — and when Harry flared up in furious defence of his wife, the elder brother persisted. Harry shut off his phone angrily, so William went to speak to him personally. The prince was horrified by what he had just been told about Meghan’s alleged behaviour, and he wanted to hear what Harry had to say.

The showdown between the two siblings was fierce and bitter. William’s pre-engagement questioning of Meghan’s suitability had been quite reasonable, in William’s opinion. His fraternal doubts had been provisional, based upon how the new recruit appeared to be. The elder brother did not really know Meghan in those early days.

But now William had seen enough of his sister-in-law to feel sure that, sadly, he did know her and that many of his reservations linked unhappily with what Knauf’s colleagues had alleged. William believed Meghan was following a plan — “agenda” was the word he used to his friend — and the accusations he had just heard were alarming. Kate, he said, had been wary of her from the start.

Meghan was undermining some precious principles of the monarchy, if she really was treating her staff in this way, and William was upset that she seemed to be stealing his beloved brother away from him. Later courtiers would coin a hashtag — #freeHarry. It was only half a joke.

“Meghan portrayed herself as the victim,” recalled one Kensington Palace staffer, “but she was the bully. People felt run over by her. They didn’t know how to handle this woman. They thought she was a complete narcissist and sociopath — basically unhinged. Which was why the pair of them were drawn to each other in the first place — both damaged goods.”

William felt deeply wounded. “Hurt” and “betrayed” were the two feelings that he described to his friend. The elder brother had always felt so protective. He had seen it as his job to look out for Harry but this was the moment the protection had to stop. At the end of the day the British crown and all it stood for with its ancient traditions, styles and values — the mission of the monarchy — had to matter more to William than his brother did.

Harry, for his part, was equally furious that William should give credence to the accusations against Meghan, and he was fiercely combative in his wife’s defence. Some sources maintain that in the heat of the argument Harry actually accused someone in the family of concepts that were “racist”. But it must be stressed that neither brother has ever confirmed that the hateful r-word was used face to face.

Only William and Harry can know what they said to each other and they have respectfully maintained their silence on that. But Harry made clear to the world in his interview with Oprah that he considered his family’s response to Meghan to have been essentially racist — using the heavily freighted code words “unconscious bias” to provide an intellectual framework for his analysis.

Where could the two brothers go after such painful and damning notions had been thrown into their debate?

We have reached the crux of the drama. What painfully unforgettable and surely unforgivable things have been said? These are not passing differences. They are two core sets of values in conflict — love versus duty — going to the very heart and deriving from the deepest beliefs and loyalties of each man. Two opposing identities butting heads. In the months following the tragic and not-obviously bridgeable rift of October 2018 between William and Harry, the younger brother solidified his belief that his family were suffering from “unconscious bias”.

William, for his part, felt just as strongly about Meghan and the need for her subversive “agenda” to be removed from the operations of the British monarchy, which she did not appear to understand or respect. He certainly wanted Meghan removed, for a start, from the hitherto harmonious joint household that he and his brother had operated together for the best part of a decade. William simply did not want her or Harry around any more.

When accounts of the rift started seeping out through the winter months that followed, it was generally assumed that the volatile Harry must have set the pace in the splitting up of the joint Kensington Palace household. He was the brother who visibly departed, stalking off to set up a new home in Windsor, with offices for himself and Meghan in Buckingham Palace.

But the reverse was the case. It was William who made the decisive move. Following his furious confrontation with his younger brother in the autumn of 2018, the prince instructed Simon Case to start the process of dividing their two households immediately. William wished to be separated from Meghan on a day-to-day basis — and that meant being separated from his brother as well.

“William,” says a friend, “threw Harry out.”

©Robert Lacey 2021 Extracted from Battle of Brothers: William, Harry and the Inside Story of a Family in Tumult by Robert Lacey, to be published by William Collins on June 24 at £9.99

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Tell Me A Story

Loki x f(magic reader)

Summary: Stuck in an Asgardian cell for your crimes, you meet an intriguing fellow prisoner who you can’t help but start to feel something for.

Warning: angst, fluff (you’re not leaving sad on my watch)

Masterlist

The ground feels hard. And your head feels incredibly fuzzy, like waking up from a deep slumber by some rude acquaintance who can’t mind their own damn business. Not to mention the throbbing sensation emitting from the left side of your cheek like two annoying disturbances. Were you smacked twice?

What in the bloody shitsticks?

The light in this place is so bright too, you have to squint when opening your irises for the first time to really get a good look at your surroundings. With the light in this awful place too much to bear, you cover your eyes with your fingers to lessen the harshness from above. Soon your gaze trails up witnessed a clean ceiling of pure marble white.

Wait. Are you dead?

Adjusting to the brightness, you slowly bring yourself into a seated position on the equally as shiny clean floor. To your left is a bed and a small nightstand while your right is a see through golden tinged barrier showing the other cells and a single guard walking down the hallway. Cells? Cells!

A prison? You’re in a fucking prison. Shit.

Letting out a dramatic sigh, head in your hands, you suddenly hear a knock on the white section of the confinement hold that turns into loud pounding. Thud! Thud! Thud! And a second later the white disappears, in place shows the same see through golden tinge. A guard on the other side.

“You’re awake.” He says, voice casual as an old friend.

You give him a puzzled look before feeling your face, “I think so.”

He takes a step into your prison where a sword is held in your face, maybe not so much an old friend after all, “As protocol, I must ask you three questions.” Delves the guard, stance never changing.

“Go for it tough guy.”

He remains unfazed, “Do you know your name?” Easy.

“Y/N.”

“Do you know why you’re here?” Uh.

“Well it wasn’t for stealing a child’s favorite toy.” You muse before quickly changing your façade, “But yes.”

He scoffs unamused, “Do you know where you are?”

Now this question you don’t have an answer for so instead do you give him your sweetest most innocent face possible, “uh, maybe you could enlighten me?”

The armored man rolls his dark eyes, “You’re in the royal dungeons of Asgard, placed here by King Odin for crimes against our realm. For that. You will remain until otherwise noted by the King.” Barks the guard, you stare up at him with wide eyes. Shocked and bewildered that you’re stuck in Asgard of all places.

“I didn’t even have a fare trial!” You protest.

“You didn’t deserve one, filth.” He counters before sheathing his sword back into its scabbard and off he goes into the golden tinged door. Out of sight in an instant. Rude.

Leaving yourself very puzzled and irritated at the whole ordeal, you never even got a trial to speak your side of the story. Nothing. Now you’re stuck in this dumb shit of a cell with literally nothing to do and no one around to bother, oh wait who’s that across the room?

Jumping to your feet, you swiftly walk over to the glass; there stands a man in green and black attire, leather bound book in hand as his slender face focuses onto the pages. He’s rather handsome in all honesty, with that dark shoulder length hair of his and the thoughtful expression across his face. You’re now fully intrigued.

Then your mind swirls with a thought, you’re in Asgard. So, this must be prince Loki, the one who failed to conquer Midgard. Soon a devilish smirk crosses your features, “What are you doing down here? I thought princes were the ones to put delinquents behind bars?”

Loki’s face shifts from surprise to amusement as he keeps his eyes onto the pages, “Kings.” Corrects the Asgardian prince.

You smile, “Well this king can eat shit!”

He lets out a breathy snort before finally drawing his gaze up to you, his expression quickly diminishes from amusement into star struck fascination when those beautiful blues land upon your beaming mischievous face. Loki has never seen someone so magnificently enticing in his whole entire life. But here you are, whoever you happen to be.

The raven haired man sets the book onto his nightstand before sauntering over to the glass wall, “And who do I presume you are? My new source of entertainment.”

Waving him off like a blushing maiden, you pretend to get all hot and bothered by his sly comment, “Oh wouldn’t you like to know.”

Loki smirks, “I would indeed.”

You curl a piece of hair around your finger, gifting him a shy smile as you avoid his steely gaze. “Sorry.” You mutter, “I only tell men who can take over whole planets in under three days.”

He immediately loses his humored aurora, replacing it with a slightly taken aback yet somewhat pissed off one. “Ouch. But I can’t image you’re any clever if you happen to be stuck down here with me.”

You point up a finger, “On the contraire, my faults are less hefty then your own. So who really lost here?”

“From the looks of it. Both of us.”

You nod, “That is a truthful observation, but what has gifted us a sentence in exile are two entirely different sides to the relatively same coin.”

“Mine being, failure to conquer and rule Midgard. And yours being?”

“Fine. I’ll satiate your appetite.” He raises a brow as you trail your hand down the buzzing glass, “I may have tried to steal some pretty gems downstairs. Blah blah and I got caught by some lady named Frigga who’s a lot more skilled with magic then I had first realized and now I’m here. Granted I don’t remember getting to said “here” but alas my body remains.”

Loki smirks, “My deer mother got the best of you. How is she up in the real world these days?”

“Oh you know, told me she loves reading, doing the usual witchy stuff, and she hates you so go burn in hell for eternity you shit head little boy.”

Loki could have choked on his own spit, “Pardon me?”

“You heard me, she said she loves you. Is that not what you heard? I really thought I was being pretty clear.”

The Asgardian prince shakes his head, “Forget I asked.” Turning around once again to find his way onto the comfortable looking mattress, new book in hand.

You pout at the lack of attention, what did you say to annoy him? Was it the little shit head boy? Maybe he’s just having a bad day.

——

There he is. That incredibly attractive Asgardian prince of Mischief, just standing there. Reading yet another book in his beautiful greens and blacks and golds as he chooses to ignore you. The insanely gorgeous but deeply irritating woman across the cell from him.

You’ve been in here for about four weeks now and Loki has not cracked once. You’re really trying too! All he’s done is gift you with some telling facial expressions or the wonderful side comment to address your theatrics or harmless shenanigans.

All you want to do is get to know him better. And maybe along the way get the fuck out of here with a little help, and then preferably take the prince along for the ride. If it was only that easy.

Levitating in your cell just because you’re tired of standing all the time, you keep your usual unabashed stare-down with the prince when a random guard marches by. He looks from right to left and forward again before doing a double take over to you.

“Hey! Stop that!” He shouts, lance raised at your smirking face while you continue to float, “You can’t do that here!”

You simply roll your eyes, “Who has made this new rule law?”

The guard pauses for a moment, clearly indicating that he just doesn’t want you floating because he’s a party pooper. He swallows, “By king Odin.”

“By king Odin? Doesn’t his son fly?”

“Huh?” He glances over to Loki who’s not paying attention to you two in the slightest.

“Not that one.”

The guard makes a frustrated grunt before removing his lance away from your face, no matter the safety of the glass, “You can remain afloat but only under my authority.” And with that does he stomp off down the corridor.

Idiot.

You beam a victorious grin as he leaves your sight when a sudden slow clapping can be heard from across the hallway. Immediately do you snap your attention up to the prince who’s already sharing one of his infamous smirks, “Congratulations. You’ll now have an enemy down here. And it only took you a few weeks.”

You scoff, moving yourself to float casually on your back, “It’s about time too. Things were starting to get unbearably dull around here.”

Loki hums, “Ever try reading?”

You snort, “No, no I haven’t. Hmm, but I’d love it if you could read to me, since I don’t happen to have any books within reach. It’s only fair.”

Loki raises a brow, “Only fair?”

“Yes. I have the guards annoyed with me, so, they won’t care much about you. And. You get to read, but also to me as well.”

“That’s a possibly compelling suggestion.” Says the prince, mulling over your words.

“I thought so.”

You close your eyes as a couple moments pass before he speaks again, “But I must decline.”

“What!” You shout in bewilderment as he lowly chuckles, “I might just about die of boredom, you want me on your conscience when I pass into oblivion from lack of entertainment!”

Loki smiles at your adorable face, “Make your own fun.” He teases, though you don’t realize this.

Moving yourself into a standing position, yet still without touching the ground, you press your hands against the golden tinged glass, “Loki! You are a beautifully great annoyance and if I wasn’t stuck in here I would throw all your books about! And then….then I’d knock down your nightstand!”

He smirks, “Charming.”

You pout while your fists clench in irritation, “Fine! I didn’t want to listen to your loathsome voice anyways!” He gifts you with a proud half grin as you turn from him to magically throw your wooden nightstand across the room.

You land, reaching a hand out to launch the nightstand back across the room once more before repeating this action again and again until the whole flimsy thing combusts when it crashes violently into the closest wall.

Breathing heavily, you slowly turn to face the irritation watching you do all of this, “Feel better Y/N.”

Pursing your lips together, you release your tight fists, “Yes.”

He nods, “What would you like me to read?”

“Something joyful…….please.”

Loki shares a handsome grin before giving you a respectfully small bow, “As the lady wishes.” Loki shares a small glance with your curious face before turning to search for a book. He kneels down and soon picks out a book colored in a deep blue, something foreign written in golden cursive on the front.

You slowly return to the ground, this time seated criss crossed as you lean half of yourself upon the glass as you try and get as close to Loki as physically possible. Which is difficult considering the hallway’s short distance keeping your cells apart, but you try anyways. He opens up the book and quickly looks up to catch your gaze before smiling and looking down at the first page.

Loki reveals the smallest blush before clearing his throat, “The Fox and the Raven.” You smirk at his adorable face, how focused and deep in thoughtful concentration he becomes as the words flow off of his sly tongue like molten gold. You could listen to him all day.

“Once there were two beings, equal in skill and game. Best friends since childhood even, but there was one thing that drove a wedge in their long relationship. Another. This beautiful being was beyond compare to that of any god or goddess alike. And the two friends where undoubtedly in love with them.

It began one windy day by the river, the beauty stood, washing their hair by the waters edge with not a mind to mess with anyone in their head. The two friends saw them and smiled. “I shall win their affections.” Claimed the dark haired admirer, Tala. “Not you silly fox, I shall be the one to draw their heart to mine.” Spoke Essek with great confidence, his bestfriend in the whole entire realm.

They looked to each other with clear frustration sculpted into their faces, so, the friends came to an agreement. Whoever failed to win over the water nymphs heart, that friend must stay in their animal form forever while the victorious one could live on as they always have. Maybe it was cruel. Maybe not at first.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months as the two friends would speak with the water nymph as often as they could. Tala in raven form and Essek as a dashing fox. All was going well as they played their little game of love until the water nymph began to grow quit fond of the raven for his talents in the sky and witty personality.

So much so that on the next full moon, the raven revealed himself to his true form before making love to the joyful water nymph on the rivers edge. And so the very next day when the fox arrived to speak with the nymph, he was surprised to find Tala laying underneath a weeping willow with the nymph in his strong arms.

The fox recoiled with jealousy before his heart shattered in two, Tala smiled a triumphant grin as the fox turned away in disappointment before rushing off into the woodland. Never to be seen again.

So that is why you can never trust anyone who is truly dear to you, for love is a fleeting thing and can turn friends into beasts for something as silly and pathetic as a beacon of affection.” Finishes Loki in an almost sour tone as you sit there on the cell floor, feeling a bit off and out of place from that abrupt turn of events.

You frown, “I thought you were going to read me a happy story?”

Loki closes the book, “I did.” Blue eyes on you in an instant.

“No. You really didn’t.”

Loki gives you an almost dumbfounded look, “The raven got to keep his original form and make love to the water nymph what else is there to want?” He questions like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. Not.

“The fox is depressed now. That’s not very happy.”

“It was happy for those two, was it not?”

You roll your eyes, “It was. But a happy story should have a happy ending for everyone involved. That’s the point of a happy tale being told.” You counter as he lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Not everyone gets what they want in the end, Y/N. That’s just life, some are fine and persist while others turn and run with nothing of any significance still clinging to them.”

You sit there a moment in bewilderment, soon rising to float threateningly by the glass, “That’s ridiculous! A happy story should be fucking happy! Love is supposed to be kind and beautiful, not this wedge that turns people against one another and supports a game that shifts into jealousy and disdain for one.”

Loki hums, “Well it is just a story after all. Love does that because it isn’t truthful ever, it’s a fleeting thing without any weight that only causes pain and disappointment.”

Your brows soon furrow at these dark words, “Oh and what do you understand about love?” You hotly challenge, voice accusatory and fierce.

“That it isn’t real.” Mutters the prince with a casual shrug, though his face flashes with uncertainty.

You scoff, “Is it now? You think love is a simple lie? A trick from the universe to keep races existing until their worlds collapse?”

“Yes.” Nods the Asgardian, “That’s what I believe.”

You take a breath, feet slowly touching the cool tiled floor as you speak, “You have no idea what it feels like then. So how can you claim it to be false?”

Loki crosses his arms, “True love isn’t real because that just cannot be realistic in any sense Y/N. Same thing as feeling happy or when you sneeze….the feeling is a feeling like butterflies in your stomach when you get excited. But like every emotion given, it leaves and the feelings are dulled or just dissipate altogether.”

“You’re wrong.” You bitterly mutter, voice low and filled with a somber hurt.

“And how would I be wrong then?” He wonders, truly curious to see how on earth you are able to counter this. He doesn’t wholeheartedly believe in love, though his growing affections for you seem to have him conflicted. He still wants to know.

“It is like magic, to be in love.” You reply, a faint smile ghosting your lips as you press your hands against the glass, “It is bright and brilliant and beautiful. It does not come and go like a fleeting spark from a dying flame. Love, like magic, forms from within when let into someone’s vessel. It is a power that always remains no matter where the person travels, or how old they become. Love, in the end and always through existence will remain. No matter what.”

Loki could have shed a tear at your beautiful explanation, yet his stubbornness persists, “A fairytale. Nothing more.”

“A fairytale? A fucking fairytale!?” You shout, voice rising in fury, “You don’t know anything but the lies you tell yourself you heartless bastard! All I wanted was a happy story that made me smile before I’m executed! And you couldn’t even give me that you selfish prick of a man!”

Loki’s heart grows cold as a winters morning, he blinks, forgetting how to properly breath at your heated declarations. He steps closer to the thin glass, brows furrowed in puzzled apprehension, “You’re being executed?” He asks, tone low and thoughtful.

Face falling into a deep frown, you lower your head in shame, “I have been condemned to die for my crimes above. Guess they’re not so simple as I had first claimed.”

“What do you mean?”

You let out a telling sigh, “I didn’t try and take the queens jewels, I tried to murder her..”

“You what?!” Whispers the Asgardian prince, eyes wide in shock, “What do you mean?”

Your gaze keeps trained onto the floor, “I am…well, I was….an assassin. Who, ultimately could not force myself to murder your mother Frigga, so I let myself be caught and taken. It’s the least I deserve for the life I’ve led. This is just how it goes, and I’m ready.”

Loki’s mind races, he never even suspected such a thing coming from you. Sure you’re indeed a beautiful mystery of a person who enjoys levitating in her cell for the hell of it. But your appearance and pose never revealed someone capable of homicide as their profession, least of all you.

And now, his father is condemning you to death rightly so, but Loki can’t help but think you don’t truly deserve this fate. Maybe, just possibly, he’d feel like he was losing a close friend. Someone who he never had any intentions of developing these strange new feelings for.

“I won’t let him end your life.” Suddenly speaks the prince, “You didn’t kill her, you actively chose not to, so I believe he could sway his final decision.”

You let out a breathy laugh, “Wishful thinking.” Just as three guards dressed in their true Asgardian golds walk to the front of your cell. Loki swallows, they dissipate the golden tinged force field, leaving you with nothing but air to keep you from their clutches.

“Y/N.” Softly calls the dark haired prince, voice small and desperate, he didn’t think they would take you so soon but what does he truly know anymore? Your sad eyes lock onto his as one guard snaps metal cuffs against your wrists, and another around your throat before he ushers you out.

Loki can’t tear his eyes from yours the whole time, and even after you’ve been dragged down the hallway and out of sight. He thinks, maybe you’ll return and it was all a big misunderstanding, a simple nightmare and he’ll wake any second now. But he knows this is foolish thinking, you’re never coming back. And he’s beside himself.

Loki bows his head in silent anguish, fists clenched tight as his heartbeat begins to race when suddenly he releases his grip and a small blast of green magic emits in the aftermath. Just enough power to knock some books onto the floor in protest. He doesn’t pick them up.

In the following days, Loki would pace around his cell like a nervous lion. Reading book after book to help pass the time though he couldn’t stop his racing mind from thinking about you. Where were you now? What had they done to you? Did it hurt?

He didn’t know and what’s worse is the guards only seemed to mock him about it, claiming your life was worth more dead then anything else. It stung like a heated iron spear left too long in the hot coals, he missed you beyond compare. How did you make him feel this way? When did that happen?

He missed your mischievous smile, your alluring eyes of curiosity and concealed chaos. The way you spoke to him like a person and not just a prisoner, or even a prince who’s disappointed his whole kingdom. You didn’t care, sure you lived to tease and pester him relentlessly, but you didn’t truly care about his current status.

You drew the attention out of him without even needing to try, brought a smile upon his face weather he was aware of it or not, and made him feel genuinely excited about waking up the next day. You became everything to him and more, and Loki hadn’t even realized this until it was too late.

But now you’re gone. And he will never see another Y/N for as long as he is to live.

Loki sits with his back against the wall, hair undoubtedly a wild mess closely matching that of the room about him. Books, clothing, furniture, and other personal belongings lay around his cell like the aftermath of a furious hurricane. He didn’t mean for this to happen, but when he got word that his mother was injured in the attack by the dark elves and freed prisoners. He new it was his fault, he led them to freedom after all.

With his mother healing from her non fatal wounds, and the loss of his dear Y/N to the axe. Loki has been doing less then tremendous these past few weeks, clearly. The prince now closes his weary eyes, breathing steadily as a new presence makes itself known across the golden tinged glass. He doesn’t care to look.

“Well don’t you look sad.” Teases a familiar voice, not condescending but just enough to make him laugh if he felt like it.

He opens his eyes to find your smirking face, body safe and sound wrapped in a cloak of white and intricately laced gold. How absolutely beautiful you are. His brows furrow as he mutters, “You’re just an illusion.” Voice horse and filled with doubt.

You raise a brow, “So is this?” You ask in reference to the clean cut illusion Loki is controlling, “I think not. I can see right through it.”

He forgot about the illusion he’s been creating since his breakdown, of course you’d see right through it, “You died. And my mother is hurt.”

“So you lost control within yourself and chose self deprecation? And apparently…chaos.” The trickster god rolls his tired eyes which causes you to chuckle, “I see my passing onto greater things has weakened your ego.”

He scoffs, “Your ghost form does not amuse me.”

Taking a glance down the vacant hallway, you step right through the golden tinged force field like it’s nothing more then air. “Loki Laufeyson, I am not a phantom or a dreary pigment of your imagination you foolish prick. I am Y/N, Goddess of Chaos and Magic. And someone who has missed you deeply.”

Loki frowns, blue eyes focused up at your truthful face as he sighs, “I….I don’t think I understand what is happening.”

You approach his side before kneeling down to reach his level, you two have never been this close before, “My tale was true as the forming of this realm itself. But your mother saw me for who I am, not what I have been enchanted to do with my life. So she gave me another chance to live, and so I did. To protect her and guard her until she deems otherwise, that’s why I’m still alive and that’s why your mother still has a beating heart.”

Loki reaches out for your hand that you gladly let him take, “Those prisoners..”

“I killed them. Every last one of those fuckers and the damn dark elves who attempted to crash their ship into the great hall. Let’s just say, it didn’t go according to their plans.” You explain, pausing for a moment to share a longing look with the Asgardian prince.

The corners of his lips rise into a soft smile, a deeply relieved one while you look down at your laced fingers, “Loki.” You whisper before drawing your head up to properly look at him.

“Yes.”

“I’m still counting on a better story.” You muse as he lets out a breathy laugh.

“Unfortunately none of these books happen to provide a decent tale, my dear.”

You gently squeeze his hand, “In that case I’ll bring you all the books stuffed in that giant library. There’s bound to be a good one, something happy.”

“I’d like that.” Nods the prince.

You smile, “But I have to ask you one thing.”

“Of course.”

“Did you miss me?”

Loki squeezes your hand right back, “More then I’d ever missed anyone.” Reveals the dark haired prince as he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, though his fingers linger on your cheek a moment longer before he slowly pulls them away and into his lap.

You can’t help but snicker which causes his face to scrunch up in puzzled embarrassment. Immediately do you reach up to cup his cheek, “I felt the same way. And I think I might feel a bit more too, quit possibly a lot more. No. Yes definitely a lot more then I first led on from a few weeks ago in fact and all I must admit to you now Loki Laufeyson or Odinson..prince of Asgard I think I’d like to kiss you now if that’s okay with you.”

Loki blinks, did he hear you right? “oh.” He mumbles, clearly unsure of himself or whatever wonderful thing you just said.

You immediately remove your hand from his cheek, “Too soon. Sorry I just thought I read you right maybe I was wrong I can just leav….” You don’t even have a moment to finish your sentence when his lips press pleasantly against yours.

His hands hold your face while your own hands gently grip onto his forearms for support in your awkward positioning, with him sitting and you still crouched. But it matters not when his lips move in time with yours, he feels so lovely, like a hundred roses pressing against your skin.

Giving you that soft velvety feel, you could kiss him all day if he’d let you. Though soon enough the two of you must break for some air, and with that do you pull him to his feet while you float just inches off of the messy ground. Loki never once taking his hand away from yours.

“How can you….how can you do that?” Wonders the prince as he glances from the ground to your face.

You shrug, “How can you move things with your mind?”

He smiles, “I guess, I just can. A terribly lackluster explanation I know, but perhaps I’m not truly certain how either.”

“Well let’s not dwell on the unknown for too long, this moment right now is too sacred for anything else. And though I have to leave, I will return to you…..and next time with more books. Then you will have no choice then to read them all to me.”

Loki hums, “I don’t see a problem there.” Before whispering in your ear, “Maybe bring some wine, I couldn’t think of a better way to spend an evening.”

You share a bright grin, “As the spoiled prince asks, but it will cost you.”

Loki raises an intrigued brow, “Cost what?”

“A kiss. Before and after I do your bidding. Can you settle for those terms?”

Loki’s lips pull into an adorable smile, cheeks almost dusting pink at your new flash of boldness. He’s never met anyone quit like you in all his years alive. “I believe those terms are acceptable.”

You give him a wink, “Good. See you then.” And with that do you crash your lips against his for on more heated embrace before leaving one final kiss to his slender cheek and floating out of the cell you go. Stopping behind the glass to give your new lover one last fleeting look, “Miss me you prick.”

Loki smirks, “Always.”

[idkxwriting]

We’re Not Friends

Author: idkhaylijah

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader, mentions of Elijah x Hayley

Word Count: 2.5K

Request: Requested by anon - Hi! Can I request an Elijah x reader one-shot; the reader is jealous of Hayley, who keeps trying to hit on Elijah even though he’s taken? Oh, and maybe the reader is super clingy cause she wants to show Hayley that she doesn’t share? Hope it makes sense, haha 

A/N: 18+ smut  Idk if I did this justice - I’m just kind of running with these one-shots and not checking them that hard lol and I think I may have gone a slightly different direction? This one was a little tough, because I’m a big believer in playing it cool lol. Idk...vampire smut so hopefully you enjoy, anon!

If you’d like to be on a taglist, just follow @idkhaylijahwrites​ and turn on notifications :) 

I am not a jealous person, Y/N reminded herself for the umpteenth time as Hayley tucked her hair behind her ears, flashing Elijah a bashful smile.

She watched them for a moment from across the room, Elijah saying something that had caused Hayley to laugh. He smiled in return, and Hayley placed her hand on his arm, leaning up and whispering in his ear. If Y/N wasn’t seeing red already, she would have lost it when Hayley leaned up on her toes, kissing him sweetly on the cheek before stepping away.

Y/N watched Elijah watching her walk away, growing more jealous with each second that passed and hating every moment of it. She shook the thought away, resolving to not let it ruin her night, and moved across the room toward him.

She was stopped by Klaus, pulling her effortlessly into his arms and moving across the dance floor. “I thought you couldn’t make it this evening, love,” he smiled knowingly at her.

She turned her head, searching for Elijah. “Well, I’m here….” she muttered.

He twirled her, pulling her in once more and forcing her eyes to meet his. “I’m sure your schedule miraculously clearing up would have nothing to do with a certain wolf being back in town…”

She glared at him before glancing away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she grimaced. Was she that obvious?

“Well,” Klaus’ breath danced across her skin. “It looks like our little wolf is back and on the hunt.” He tilted his head and she followed his gaze to find Elijah, Hayley clinging to him as they swayed at the other end of the dance floor.

“He can do what he wants,” Y/N all but growled, her frustration growing rapidly - at Elijah, at Hayley, at herself. “We’re just friends…” she had said the lie so many times it fell from her lips with ease.

“You have many talents, Y/N. Lying is not one of them. Besides, love, green isn’t your color,” Klaus smirked and released her, gone before she could tear her eyes away from the scene in front of her.

She blinked, realizing she was alone in a crowded room. She knew she had no right to be jealous, Elijah was more than capable of making his own decisions. She had told him as much, refusing to put a label to anything they were, refusing to be his date so publicly to this stupid ball. He had wanted more and she pushed him away- and for what? So she could continue to build walls and not get hurt?

She scoffed at herself. She had worked so hard to keep him at arms length, and it hadn’t mattered.

She turned once more to find the music shifting into another song, Hayley leaning back to look Elijah in the eyes, as if trying to convey an old feeling.

She considered her options for a moment, no longer caring about the consequences and marching over towards them. She tapped Hayley on the shoulder, who turned with a shocked look. “Y/N, I didn’t think you were coming…”

Y/N smiled tightly at her, turning her gaze towards Elijah. “May I step in?” She asked politely, though she felt anything but. She clutched her hands behind her back, her nerves causing them to shake.

Elijah lifted a brow at her, and turned to address Hayley. “Forgive me,” he said. “Perhaps we can continue this conversation another time.”

Hayley looked between the two of them. “Yea, sure…” she trailed off, shooting Y/N a look before dismissing herself.

They stood and watched each other for a moment before Elijah held his hand out. She took it wordlessly, and they began to move across the floor.

“You came,” Elijah noted after a beat of silence.

She nodded, leaning back to look up at him.

His eyes searched hers and it took her a moment to realize the music had stopped, Klaus tapping a champagne glass to gather the attention of the guests. She hadn’t heard what he said, but followed everyone’s lead to their tables, dinner beginning to be served.

Another pang of jealousy and annoyance shot through her as she realized Hayley had taken the seat next to Elijah, immediately placing her hand on his wrist and leaning in to speak to him.

She took her own seat on Elijah’s other side, Hayley’s movements not lost on her. She shuffled her chair, squirming in her seat.

“Is everything okay?” Elijah asked.

Y/N shook her head. “No, the chair is wobbly…” she shifted again. “I’m sorry, would you mind switching with me?”

She was sure she saw Elijah smirk, and his sister, Rebekah, stifling a laugh from across the table, but she held her ground.

“Of course,” Elijah stood, pulling her chair out and letting her take his seat so he sat between his brother, Kol, and Y/N.

Hayley scoffed and Y/N made herself comfortable. “Much better,” she narrowed her eyes at Hayley.

Kol chuckled. “The chair seems fine now, darling…” he commented with a grin.

Y/N just shrugged, and she scooted in closer to Elijah, aware of everyone’s glances, but pressing forward.

Conversation carried on, which Y/N was grateful for, but as Kol got up to fetch drinks from the bar, Hayley moved to take his seat, asking Elijah if he remembered the time they had attended one of Marcel’s parties together.

Y/N wanted to groan, but instead she placed her hand on Elijah’s leg casually. She was sure she felt his eyes on her, but she ignored it as she continued to trace her thumb along his thigh, leaning into him as she continued her conversation with Rebekah.

She was aware she was laying it on thick, and it made her want to cringe, but she wasn’t about to lose Elijah to his ex without a fight.

Hayley intertwined her fingers with Elijah’s on the table. “We had some fun, you know,” she said.

Y/N had enough, her temper flaring as she turned towards her. She knew Hayley could kick her ass without even breaking a sweat, but she was beyond caring. “Hayley, how’s Jackson, by the way? That’s his name right? The guy you dumped Elijah for?”

The table went silent, all eyes on her. Elijah cleared his throat. “Y/N, a word?” He hissed into her ear, not waiting for a reply before standing and gripping her by the arm. He hauled her away from the table, Rebekah and the remainder of his siblings exchanging smirks.

“See, I told you,” Hayley laughed, leaning back.

“You’re a shameless flirt,” Rebekah remarked.

Hayley shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it? Maybe now Y/N will come to her senses…”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “They’re both fools,” he muttered.

*****

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked, trying to keep up with Elijah. He had stormed out of the ballroom, straight past the bar and onto the dimly lit patio. String lights gave the small area a soft glow, but he moved them so they were away from prying eyes, warm shadows dancing along their faces.

“What exactly are you doing?” He demanded, releasing his grip.

She shrugged. “You asked me to be your date…”

“And you refused,” he said, still angry at the rejection. He placed a hand in his pocket and shifted his weight away from her.

“I changed my mind.”

He shook his head, frustration playing on his features. “Because of Hayley?”

“Yes!” She exclaimed. “No….I don’t know, okay?”

His jaw clenched. “Y/N, I made it very clear where I stood. I told you I wanted more, that I wanted you…”

“I made a mistake! I just...I’m not good at this, Elijah. And I am sorry, I know I’m late, but I’m here.” Her chest heaved at the confession. “For you,” she added.

“You made it perfectly clear that you and I are nothing more than friends.” He sighed.

She shook her head adamantly. “I know. I messed up, and I’m sorry.” she breathed. “I know I told you that we’re just friends. I’ve been trying to convince myself the same thing for weeks because if I’m being completely honest, what I feel for you? It scares the hell out of me, because we’re not friends, Elijah. I don’t want to just be friends.”

His eyes searched hers for a moment, and she began to wonder if he was searching for a way to let her down softly.

The phrase ‘too little, too late’ danced around her thoughts. She turned away, deciding she wouldn’t survive hearing the words that he had chosen Hayley. “I don’t know why I came, I’m sorry,” she said, walking away before the tears could fall.

She felt his hand on her then, spinning her back to face him. His dark eyes bore into hers, and not for the first time she felt like he could see right through her. His gaze dipped to her lips, and she traced her tongue over them, her mouth suddenly dry as the tension rose.

She wanted to speak, to make him understand that she knew she was broken, but Elijah made her want to be better, to do better. Her words were lost in the haze though, and suddenly he was moving again, his lips descending upon hers.

She had shared several kisses with Elijah, and they were all incredible- she often tried not to think about the experience that came with a thousand years, but loved to reap the benefits of everything he had learned.

Still, this kiss was world-ending.

It was fire and fury, demanding and leaving her no choice but to give in. He spun them, pushing her further back into the shadows, her back hitting the stone wall beside them. She was vaguely aware of his attempt to hide them, to give them privacy, and though she should have cared she found she didn’t.

She only cared about the sudden need to feel him.

Her hands buried into his shirt, bunching the fabric between her fingers. His own trailed down to her hips, the heat seeping through her dress and grabbing greedily.

She trailed down, fumbling with his belt buckle, completely oblivious to the fact that they were still in public.

He pressed into her, and she felt him against her thigh, moaning softly into his kiss. His lips pressed at the corner of her mouth, nipped at her ear and sent shivers down her spine. The tip of his nose traced along her skin, dipping low so he could kiss her neck, bruising the skin until she felt a sharp graze.

She stifled a cry into his shoulder as his teeth sunk in, the pain twisting into pleasure as he drank from her, and she knew he was marking her as his.

He hiked up the skirt of her dress and pushed her panties aside as she undid his pants, freeing him. He trailed one hand down to her thigh, lifting her leg so he could meet her, pressing into her with an urgency she had never experienced before.

They were lost in each other, and there was a small part of her that reminded her she should be quiet, but with each thrust up into her she found it more difficult, her pleasure building. She felt lightheaded, lost in a dream as he continued to thrust harder and harder, his hands rough - a contrast to the way his lips pulled from her neck so sweetly, as if savoring every second.

She had never let him bite her before, and he had never tried. Rebekah had told her once what blood sharing had meant to a vampire, and she knew this was everything to him.

She locked her leg around his, pulling his wrist up to her kiss swollen lips and pressing against his pulse.

He released her neck then, leaning back to take her in, his eyes heavy with want as she met his gaze. His movement paused and she bit her lip, her walls clenching around him.

He groaned and pushed her hair behind her ears, cupping her face and kissing her sweetly before he bit into his own wrist, offering it to her.

She took it willingly, keeping her eyes locked on his as she tasted him. His eyes fluttered shut, pleasure washing over him. His free hand traced his thumb over the punctures on her neck, slowly disappearing as his blood coursed through her. He slammed his hand against the wall, bracing himself as she fed from him, hiding his face in the crook of her neck as he began to move once more, his breath hot on her skin.

He bit once more, and as he pulled her blood she felt everything. Everything she had felt for him, everything he had felt for her, euphoria rushing through her veins and making her skin come alive beneath his touch.

Her belly tightened and she released his wrist, crying out as his hand moved to her mouth, keeping her quiet as her orgasm ripped through her, his quickly behind.

They stood there, panting quietly and catching their breath, when suddenly Elijah moved them. Before she could register what was happening her dress was fixed and she stood, her legs shaky, under the patio lights. Elijah appeared as pristine as ever, as though nothing at all had happened.

“Ahh, there you are, brother,” Klaus stepped out onto the patio. “How was your chat?” He raised his brows innocently and glanced between the two of them. “I trust you were able to work things out?”

“Y/N and I are fine, thank you for the concern, Niklaus,” Elijah said dismissively.

Y/N felt her cheeks heat as Kol and Hayley stepped out onto the patio as well, so sure she had that ‘freshly-fucked’ look you could only get organically. She ran her fingers through her hair, her hand coming up to her neck that apparently Elijah had already cleaned.

“There you are,” Hayley said, her eyes trailing over Elijah. “You promised me a dance.”

“And since he’s preoccupied I thought you wouldn’t mind a dance yourself, darling,” Kol held his hand out, quirking his lips into a sly grin.

Y/N tried to act natural, like she hadn’t just been having the best orgasm of her life. She smiled politely at Kol, taking his hand, but Elijah stepped forward, his hand coming to lay possessively around her waist.

“Kol, perhaps your time would be better spent finding your own date.”

Kol shrugged with a smirk. “What happened to ‘just friends’, brother?”

Elijah simply glared at the younger Mikaelson, dismissing him with a look. Kol backed away, nudging Hayley on his way out.

She turned, addressing Y/N. “Took you long enough,” she winked. “Elijah’s one of the good ones,” her eyes held a heavy sadness behind them, but she smiled before turning and following Kol.

Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion. What was that? She pondered until Klaus stepped into view. He held his hands behind his back, his eyes narrowed in amusement.

“If you expect any of us to buy your ‘just friends’ bit...” he said cooly, stepping into Y/N’s space. His hand came up to her cheek gently, and she could feel the tension rolling off of Elijah. His thumb swiped at the corner of her mouth, and he held it up for them to see, a crimson dot smeared on the tip. “...you’ll have to get better at sneaking around.”

He turned and began to make his own exit when Y/N called after him.

Y/N grinned, the blush crawling up her skin as she turned to look at Elijah. She leaned into him, intertwining her fingers in his. “We’re not friends…”

Elijah smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple.

Y/N turned back to Klaus. “You can fill everyone in if you want, we’re gonna need another minute…”

She could feel Elijah grin into her skin, his arms wrapping around her. Klaus rolled his eyes and excused himself, Elijah still wrapped around her. “Did I mention how lovely you look this evening?” He whispered against her.

She bit her lip and shook her head softly. “I don’t think it came up…”

“Come.” He grabbed her hand, leading her away.

“Where are we going?” She laughed.

He pulled her in, kissing her once more. “I intend to spend the rest of the evening reminding you just how lovely you are.”

[barricadebops]

Miserables Month Day 5: "Lesson"

Written for the Miserables Month @themiserablesmonth

Honestly, Bahorel felt slightly offended.

"And you believe I can help?" he asked incredulously.

"Why not?" Enjolras almost seemed to challenge. "Out of all these years you have enrolled in law classes you must have sat in at least a few--enough to help me now."

Young Enjolras had not yet made many friends at the university in any of his classes. In fact, the two friends he had so far made were Bossuet, his senior by three years, and Bahorel, his senior by seven years. He had found the matter just the slightest bit peculiar; Enjolras had an aura that drew people to him, it was a wonder there hadn't formed a line outside the university of students just trying to know his name. Then again, it had only been close to a year since he had arrived from the South to the city--Bahorel supposed making truly close friends did take some time. His meeting and befriending him and Bossuet was indeed a happy patch in what Bahorel imagined had so far been a bit of a lonely life for someone quite so young.

As it was, Enjolras was currently seated in Bahorel's rather large apartment, at the opposite end of the table, having reached out to the senior student for help in a situation assigned from law clsss.

"Enjolras," he walked over from his end of the table to where Enjolras was seated on a chair at the opposite side, stooping his hand and ruffling his friend's blond curls affectionately, "you know I make sure to take the utmost caution to ensure the knowledge of law does not reach me. I even double check that my coat is buttoned up when I pass by the law school; one can never be too serious when it comes to such a dangerous illness."

Enjolras rolled his eyes and attempted to tame his hair. "Do not fret, you will not be alone in your teaching endeavours." He flashed a brief smile. "I invited Bossuet too, for help."

Bahorel stared for a second before his mind caught up the words Enjolras had just delivered when he let out a gasp and put a hand to his heart.

"Deception! Trickery! In my own home!" It wasn't as if Bahorel hated Bossuet. No, just the opposite; he thought Bossuet was a splendid fellow—he always seemed to be laughing. But it was true that Bossuet did take his law studies more seriously than he did. With his arrival, it was no doubt that his poor apartment would be filled to the ceiling with legal jargon.

Enjolras simply grinned, his smile growing as there came a knock at the door, signalling Bossuet's arrival.

He threw a pseudo glare at Enjolras before marching over and throwing the door open, the bald man of only twenty years of age standing outside, smiling. On his hand there was a wrap of bandages.

"Hello, my friend!" Bossuet called out brightly. Bahorel stepped aside to let him in, Bossuet strolling over to where Enjolras was seated. "For a moment I was afraid you would turn me away when you learned of my purpose here—surely Enjolras has told you."

He closed the door and pulled out a seat at the table, though he did not sit. Faking a ridiculously overdone sigh, he said, "You know I would not turn you away, Laigle—" here he could see Enjolras' eyebrows furrow, it seemed as if their dear Laigle had neglected to inform him of the various manifestations of his name—"yet I had hoped you would have had a bit more sympathy for a man not to make him ill in his own home."

Bossuet waved his hand dismissively. "Come now, perhaps this illness will finally inspire something in that head of yours to attend classes and finally pass."

"Or perhaps all this talk of law will finally allow you to come to an understanding on the deadly nature of this illness; it's not too late, my friend, you can still drop your classes."

Enjolras snorted. "With the last sou he's down to in his pocket?"

"Better anything than a lawyer."

Bossuet shook his head in amusement. "Will it suffice for you if I give you my word that you shall be the first I tell if ever I bail out of law school?"

"You are already an idler, it should not take too long. I shall expect it when you finally find yourself seated in Blondeau's class. I suspect Delvincourt has been much too easy on you."

"Whether or not Delvincourt is an easy professor or Blondeau seems to be difficult," Enjolras interrupted, "it does not solve the matter at hand."

Bossuet grinned. "Yes of course. To reach the matter of why we have convened here like a holy meeting. We are to deliver to Enjolras a lesson in law!" He draped an arm around Bahorel, though he had to lean slighty upwards to do so. "How wise of you to come to your senior students."

Bahorel sniffed. "How wise of you to poison my air with legal jargon."

Bossuet patted his shoulder, but said no more.

Enjolras pursed his lips and brought out a notebook. "I was hoping you were willing to go to the trouble of reviewing this matter in property law with me."

Bossuet's eyes popped open in delight, though it must be said he did not find the actual review of property law to be so interesting as it was to teach his younger friend in a manner Bossuet would think was fun. Bahorel groaned inwardly. His horror, however, slowly gave away to glee as an idea hatched in his mind.

He could make this lesson fun yet.

_________________________________________

"...And as for me, although I'm no legal authority, at most an amateur jurist, I would say this: that in accordance with Normandy custom, every year at Michaelmas except where other rights prevail a compensatory payment must be made in favour of the lord of the manor by each and every householder be he landowner in his own right or by right of inheritance and that this applies to all long leases, short leases, free holds and contracts bona fide, mala fide, de jure and de facto."

"You've turned me green, dear Lesgles, with the way you've poisoned the air. I expect compensation for this."

Bahorel looked over at Enjolras, who sported a generally understanding look, but which was coloured slightly by a mix of annoyance and amusement. He had come to understand the assistance Bossuet had given him, but serious as he tried to maintain he was, he couldn't help but let a laugh shake his being as Bahorel interrupted the lesson with what he thought were his much more entertaining additions.

"Yes, thank you, my friend," he addressed his gratefulness to Bossuet earnestly. "I believe perhaps now I won't feel so lost in class now."

Bahorel looked mock offended. "And what about me? Did I not play my part? Are we not all to receive a share of the reward in the republic?"

Enjolras rolled his eyes and faked annoyance, though the smile he could not hold off on his face spoke volumes to his true feelings concerning the matter. "And what was your contribution to this grand lesson?"

He grinned "The efforts to deter the both of you from committing a capital sin."

"Of becoming lawyers?"

"The very likes of it."

"And this was only possible by making an already confusing lesson even more so?"

"Whatever works in both mine and yours' favour."

"Calm yourself Bahorel," Bossuet waved his hand dismissively, though all were laughing at this point. "Perhaps one day you will find yourself a former law student who has shunned the subject and you will finally find yourself an acquaintance then."

[calaofnoldor]

Sixth Time’s the Charm [1]

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean, OCs

Words: 1,550

Series Summary: All the times Dean has tried to get Sam to admit his feelings for you.

Chapter Summary: Dean asks you to flirt with a cop for info. Sam is not pleased.

Warnings: jealous!sam, protective!sam, huffy!sam, badass!reader, exasperated squirrel, mutual pining, idiots in love, tropesss

A/N: this is part one of a six-part mini series that is essentially an amalgamation of all the jealous/protective tropes. sorry not sorry?

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

The first time was an impromptu experiment. Of course, Dean already knew Sam had a crush on you; he raised the kid for crying out loud. That and the way Sam had stumbled over his own tongue and feet the first time they encountered you (and nearly every time thereafter) made it quite obvious to everyone… well, except you, apparently. Regardless, Dean figured it was just the case of a simple crush and poor Sammy being unable to match his finesse with the ladies.

So when the three of you came across a sleazy police captain, who was in no way shy about having the hots for you, during a rugaru hunt in Nebraska, Dean was rather taken aback by his brother’s unusual reaction.

Strolling into the Omaha police department with you and Sam on either side, the older Winchester had identified the captain immediately from his picture online.

“Captain Anderson,” Dean addressed the man directly in a low, authoritative tone, “I’m Agent Parker, and these are my partners Agents Stan and Lee.” He motioned to his right and left side as he introduced you, accordingly, pausing as you flashed your fake badges in unison.

The captain was a tall, slightly rotund fellow, with a mustache to rival an 80’s porn star’s, and he scoffed haughtily at your entrance. “What the hell do the feds want with us? And did they really hafta send three of ya?” He gestured pointedly at you with a patronizing raise of his chin and your blood began to boil at the implicitly misogynistic remark.

“Well no offense, Captain,” you spoke up; your FBI get-up always gave you an extra boost of confidence (something about the power suit vibes you supposed), plus men like him really pissed you off, “but there have been five deaths here within the last week, and from what I understand, your team has a grand total of zero working theories and just as many leads, so perhaps you can understand why the government would show some concern.”

“Mm, mm, mm!” Captain Anderson chanted obnoxiously in response. He gave you a painfully slow once-over, eyes filled with a crude and unrestrained lechery that forced a shiver down your spine. “A woman who knows how to take charge… I like that,” he licked his lips lasciviously.

Dean was torn between awaiting your likely ruthless and epic comeback or telling the douchebag off himself when he heard Sam clear his throat forcedly beside him. Looking over, he was surprised to find his giant of a little brother to be a picture of rage. Strained jaw, clenched fists, distended chest, and a murderous glare directed unwaveringly at the Omaha police captain.

Meanwhile, you were finding it difficult to resist the urge to roll your eyes and repress your temper to maintain a professional front. “We need information and clearance,” you stated firmly, ignoring the cop’s inappropriate and debaucherous display, “Are you going to hand it over or not?”

“Sorry little miss, no can do! You’re prolly gonna hafta talk to the chief if you want in on a big boy case like this one… but, you know, I can think of some ways you might be able to convince me otherwise,” he finished with a lewd wink before taking off.

Sam looked like he was about to lunge at the captain, but Dean put a hand on his arm to ground him. He was starting to suspect Sam’s behavior might have more to do with you than the fact that the captain was a regular dickhead. After all, Sam was usually the calmer and more rational of the brothers, especially during hunts.

You were too busy holding yourself back to notice though, staring daggers into Anderson’s back as you watched him walk away.

“What an asshole. I’m sorry, Y/N,” Dean began. An idea was forming in his head, one that could help him test his theory. “Look, you know I wouldn’t ask this if there was a better way, but dyou think, maybe, just this once, you could… you know? Turn on the charm a bit? Just so we can get in?”

Sam had not been fully engaged in the conversation until just then, too focused on trying to mollify the inexplicable rage that Captain Anderson had incited within him, but Dean’s request certainly caught his attention.

“What?! Dean! You can’t be serious. No. We’ll find another way. Just- No.” Sam’s voice was harder and deeper than usual and for a moment you lost yourself in it, daydreaming that perhaps he was exhibiting a sense of jealously. But who were you kidding? Sam was just a nice guy who detested sexist pricks like Anderson; this had nothing to do with you.

“No, it’s fine. Dean’s right. This is the easiest way. I’ll do it,” you stated quietly before adding with a small smile, “I can suck it up on account of saving some lives.”

Dean grinned and you walked away before Sam could protest any further. When you reached the captain’s office, you didn’t bother knocking on the open door, “Alright, Captain Anderson-“

“Please, call me Frank.” He looked up at you with such a smug and revolting expression, you decided there was no way you could follow through with Dean’s plan.

“Listen, Frank,” you crossed your arms in what you hoped was an ‘I mean business’ stance, but quickly dropped them when you realized the action had unwittingly highlighted your cleavage in the button-down blouse you were wearing and spurred yet another round of gratuitous leering from Frank. “What’s it gonna take for you to hand over the case files and grant us full access to the evidence and crime scenes?”

“Well, since I like you, I’ll make it easy for ya. How about we start with a smile?” He had leaned forward in his seated position behind his desk as he spoke, and you almost smacked him right then.

As you turned to leave, however, it was Anderson who smacked you, open palmed and right on the ass. You forced yourself to take a deep breath before slowly turning back around. Keeping your movements deliberate and unhurried, you bent over his desk, ignoring the impulse to gag at the greasy, utterly unholy scent that filled your nostrils as you got close enough to whisper in his ear, “You know what, I’ll make it easy for you too. How about, if you give my partners and I complete authorization on this case, I won’t report you to the feds for sexual harassment? See, I know people in the upper ranks and I’ve got a lawyer who wipes the floor with guys like you on the daily.” It was all lies, of course, but you figured it was for a good cause.

“So what’s it gonna be, Captain?” You asked after straightening yourself back up.

As you’d hoped, the bastard was looking a little worse for wear, though you could tell he was trying to retain what little he could of his arrogant persona. “You little bitch.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Fine. You can have it,” he pointed at a stack of file folders on his desk, and then sighed as he produced three security passes, “Go crazy! Go fuck yourself.”

“Gladly,” you sassed, ready to strut out of there with everything you came for in hand.

Behind you, things had not gone so smoothly. When Sam saw Anderson slapping your butt, he was fully prepared to march over and break the captain’s nose, but Dean again held him back, “Woah, hey, you know Y/N can handle herself. What’s up with you?”

Then when he was forced to watch you lean in tantalizingly close and whisper something in Anderson’s ear, Sam experienced an entirely foreign sensation. He was still burning with fury, but that anger was joined by a peculiar ache. His heart had risen to his throat as he stood there, completely transfixed, a look of dejection and longing written across his face.

‘Huh,’ Dean had thought with an internal smirk, ‘Sammy’s got it ba-ad!’ he sing-song-ed in his own head, storing the information away for later, when he could find an opportune moment to tease his baby brother about it.

For now, Dean gave you two thumbs up as he watched you return with a triumphant grin, holding up three official passes by their lanyards.

“Got it all. We’re completely in,” you supplied each brother a security pass when you reached them.

“Damn. You are good, woman! What did you even say to him?” Dean chuckled as the three of you left the station.

“Oh nothing, just a bit of light threatening.”

Sam stopped to look at you quizzically. “Wait, what? You mean you didn’t- you weren’t… flirting with him?”

“Nah, I was too appalled by the thought to go down that route.”

“Oh,” he huffed out, looking down with drooped shoulders and an awkward twitch of a smile. You could have sworn he looked somewhat relieved, but decided not to read too much into it, too pleased with yourself to allow the ever-growing gloom of your unrequited love dampen your spirits.

The whole time Dean was staring back at the two of you in disbelief. ‘These goddamn idiots,’ he thought with an exasperated yet slightly amused shake of his head.

→ CARRY ON

thanks so much for reading! feedback always appreciated 💞

[earthfire-75]

You Send Me Flying

Chapter Six

Author’s notes: co-written with @nature-and-music, beta’d by @lady-jane-revisited. Based on The Dirt movie, as I don’t have the book yet. Warning: language.

I offered to go without hesitation, so long as I could be as far away from Tommy as possible. As I made my way down the stairs, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn’t shake the image of her from my dream last night, in that lingerie and how she made me hers. I tried to stifle these stupid feelings, especially the sensation of my blood rushing, and reminded myself that I would get in, get out, and go back upstairs. After knocking on the door, I heard the locks unlatching, and she opened up the door until the chain stopped her.

“Oh Mick, good morning!” she proclaimed with surprise and excitement in her voice.

The words were there, but they were trapped in my voice box. Even though I could see a little bit inside, I could see that she was wearing nothing but a towel tightly wrapped around her body. Her hair drenched and clinging to her face.

“Here, I’ll unlock the door. You can come in, just let me just get something on,” she quickly shut to unlatch the chain and then reopened it, welcoming me into her domain.

She mentioned that a fresh pot of coffee was ready and that I could help myself to the fruit bowl on the table. I gave her a quiet thank you as she headed back to her room. I caught a glimpse of her legs, still wet and so soft looking. I shook my head and distracted myself by looking over at the fabrics that were scattered about in the living room. There was an interesting mixture of her work being both organized and disorderly as I took in what I saw. I checked out the sketches on the couch and slid my fingers across the fabrics for my stage clothes; she was really talented.

She returned, “Sorry, did you need something?”

When I turned back to her, my heart rate increased. She stood there wearing an Aerosmith shirt and red dolphin shorts. Her wet hair was dripping onto her shirt, causing parts of her covered chest to become slightly transparent. She glanced down at herself, she felt self conscious as she pulled down on her shirt even though she was clothed.

She chuckled slightly in embarrassment, “Um… I haven’t done laundry in a couple days. This is all I have that’s clean right now. So what did you need?”

I stepped closer to her, she hardly moved a muscle, save for her eyes as they widened. I started deeply into her eyes and she did the same with me. I felt her hands on my waist, sliding up my torso and resting on my shoulders even as uncertainty shone in her wide eyes. My own hands wrapped around her middle, bringing her closer to my body. Our lips were just inches away from touching, all we could feel was the heat of our breaths. Our faces leaned in as we shared a soft kiss. Her arms slithered around my neck, her fingers burying themselves into my hair.

My grip around her tightened as I felt myself becoming hard, though she didn’t seem to back away. Our lips parted for a moment to allow us to take in a little bit of air, only for them to collide once more. One of my hands reached down to caress her supple thigh, my fingers centimeters away from touching her rear. I could feel her mouth opening up tentatively, silently giving me permission to lather her tongue and so I did. The vibrations of our moans rippled throughout our bodies and I grunted when her teeth bit down on my lower lip, pulling away from me as I moaned. I gave her thigh a slap and she quietly mewled, burying her face into my neck.

“Holy shit!”

We released each other and backed away as though nothing had happened. We turned to see, to our horror, Tommy standing in the open doorway completely awestruck with his jaw hanging low and his eyes wide open. He looked as if he saw the most terrifying sight in his young life. Well one thing’s for sure, his life was about to end indefinitely as I quickly ran after him back up the stairs, leaving poor Y/N/ behind. Tommy’s scream practically woke up the entire apartment complex as I chased after him. Nikki simply stood there and enjoyed watching the chase, casually following us to the shared bedroom. I was quick to grab the drummer by the wrist, but not quick enough to get the rest of him since he threw his towel in my face and swiftly locked himself in the bathroom.

“Open up this door Tommy! Open it you motherfucker!” I shouted, violently banging.

He was panic-striken, “No fucking way man! Not a chance!”

“You open this goddamn door right now!”

Vince was well awake, “What the fuck is happening right now? Mick what are you-”

I was too busy to acknowledge him, especially as he walked over.

Vince looked at me, “What is happening?”

Tommy was about to say something, but that only caused me to hit the door even harder, hoping to drown out the description of what he saw. There was no way I was going to let this come out, and from Tommy of all people! I was suddenly held back by my other bandmates. They told me to knock it and to chill out, that it was too early for this and that I’d end up waking the neighbors. As if they really cared what a bunch of denizens would say.

Tommy finally got his chance, “Mick made out with her! I saw them!”

Vince and Nikki held on tighter, refusing to let me go until I calmed down. I was like a bull ready to charge, but they refused to let me go, so I just yelled: “You fucker! I’m going to kill you!”

“Mick! Tommy! That’s enough!” We heard the familiar voice yell from the living room. “Mick stop!”

Like a trained animal, I heard her call and I stopped dead in my tracks. I could feel the strain of my muscles as a result of being held, my throat felt sore and dry, and my anger slowly started to dissipate. I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me as I slowly turned my neck to see her. Nikki and Vince backed away from me and I heard the bathroom door open, however she hurried to move my line of sight away from Tommy, holding my face in her hands. Her expression was a blend of anger, shame, and discomfort

“Mick, calm down. It’s okay.” she pleaded, her thumbs brushing my cheeks.

I could feel a sense of stillness when she spoke to me like that. I lost control of myself and she was here to bring me back to a more stable state, “I… uh, I...”

She held onto me, “Mick, just don’t do that again. The first show is coming up and you all need to work with each other.” She released me and marched over to Tommy, pointing a finger at him, “And you, enough with your jokes!”

Tommy nodded like a frightened child, gulping down his fear, hoping that this would all end soon and he could get himself dressed. She never took her eyes off mine as she addressed Tommy and Vince to get dressed. I could hear the singer complain about not getting his shower yet, but they both went back to their rooms. Nikki stood there smirking like an idiot.

“What are you looking at, bass player?” I snapped, though not as heated as I looked over at him.

He shook his head, still with that stupid smirk plastered on his face. “Nothin’, man.” And went back into the kitchen.

She leaned in and kissed me softly when everyone had gone, pulling back before it could turn heated and took my hand in hers, leading me to the couch. I moved slower than usual and winced slightly in pain, hiding it when she looked back at me with concern. We reached the couch and she instructed me to turn around with my back facing her. I opened my mouth to argue, but she gave me the same look I usually give the guys when they annoy the hell out of me. I closed my mouth and turned around for her.

She reached under my jacket and shirt, carefully pressing her palms against my back as she began to massage the muscles. I bit my lip to keep from making any sounds, but as she worked out the tension and aches, I let out a long deep moan I hadn’t meant to. Her hands were still, holding me in place so I couldn’t turn back around to see her expression, but I could hear her lightly shaking breath.

“Mick...”It was a breathless whisper of my name from her lips.

“Ok, I love you both and I’m happy for you. But, please, no sex on my couch, man!” Nikki laughed as he barged into the moment.

She slid her hands down my back, sending shivers down my spine as she stood up, just in time for the other two to come out of their rooms.

“Alright guys, let’s go get your boots!”

@nature-and-music @lady-jane-revisited @mickmarstookmyheart @sophiazeppelinchick @macy0