#it feels deeply intentional how much they are preparing to escape responsibility for this by throwing all Jewish people under the bus
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I deeply appreciate how ATLA depicts all the main characters responses to trauma. Aang’s, for me, however, stands out for its rareness in media. And we are not hammered over the head with the idea that Aang (or any other characters) repeatedly act certain ways because of a single traumatic event. Sure, there are key moments in our lives when a certain event comes to the forefront, but no one experiences the world as constant flashbacks. Rather, we see only in retrospect the way our sarcastic sense of humor or our heightened friendliness were protective responses to a deep emotional injury.
Being able to understand Aang’s approach to loss is essential for the show. The structure of the series is founded on his arc (despite an incredible foil provided by Zuko). Our little air nomad initially confronts the loss of his people with a full-on meltdown in the episode “The Southern Air Temple,” where Katara’s offering of familial belonging soothes him. But this kind of outburst is not Aang’s primary response (and actually the literally out-of-character apocalyptic tantrums align with Aang’s overall process of grieving). Instead of constantly brooding (hey Zuko!), Aang leans heavily toward the monk’s pacifist teachings and toward his assumed destiny “to save the world.” He becomes overtly accommodating and joyful, constantly trying to see “the good” in everything with a perfectionist’s zeal. This is not to ascribe his bubbliness only to his trauma. Rather, he comes to emphasize this part of his personality for reasons related to the negative emotions he struggles to face.
Book 1: Water
In the first season, Aang is simply rediscovering his place in the world. “Water is the element of change. The people of the water tribe are capable of adapting to many things. They have a sense of community and love that holds them together.” This is vital to Aang as he initially faces his experience. He won’t get through this if he is not prepared for his life to change. Even if he hadn’t been frozen for 100 years, his world would never be the same. This fact involves eventually finding new people that he feels safe with. After such a massive loss, he’s learning who to trust, and also often making mistakes; not only does he find Sokka and Katara (and I’d argue he’s actually slow to truly open up to them), this is the season where he helps save a fire nation citizen who betrays him to soldiers, befriends the rebel extremist Jet, and attempts to befriend an actively belligerent Zuko (his moral complexity had only JUST! been revealed to the kid!). He’s constantly offering trust to others and seeking their approval in opposition to the deep well of shame and guilt he carries as a survivor of violence.
This is also the season where Aang swears off firebending after burning Katara in an overeager attempt to master the element (one will note how fire throughout the series is aligned with, above all else, assertiveness and yang). Aang is so eager to be seen as morally good to others that he refuses to risk any possible harm to them. And asserting himself carries a danger, in one sense, that he might make a mistake and lose someone’s positive regard, and, in another sense, that he is replicating the anger and violence he’s witnessed. He has no relationship to his anger at this stage of his grief, so it comes out uncontrollably, both in firebending and the Avatar State. It’s through the patience of his new family that he can begin to feel unashamed about his past and about the ways his shame is finding (sometimes violent) expression in the present.
Book 2: Earth
In the second season he begins to trust himself and stand his ground. Earth, after all, is the element of substance, persistence, and endurance. The “Bitter Work” episode encapsulates how Aang must come to a more sturdy sense of his values. First, there is the transition of pedagogical style. While Katara emphasized support and kindness, Toph insists on blunt and threatening instruction, not for a lack of care towards Aang. Instead, it’s so Aang learns how to stop placing the desires of others above his own--to stop accommodating everyone else above his own needs. Toph taunts Aang by stealing one of the few keepsakes from the monastery that he holds onto. This attachment to the lost airbending culture is echoed in the larger arc with Appa. And, by the end of this episode, it is Aang’s attachment to Sokka that allows him to stand firm. This foreshadows the capital T Tragic downfall in the “Crossroads of Destiny.” Aang gives up his attachment to the other member of his new found family, Katara, despite his moral qualms. Although he has access to all the power of the Avatar state, his sacrifice is not rewarded. Season 2 illustrates Aang coming to terms with his values. He is learning about what he stands for, what holds meaning to him.
Understanding himself also includes integrating his grief, and there’s a lonely and dangerous aspect to that exploration. We see Aang’s anger and hopelessness over longer stretches rather than outbursts in this season. It’s hard to watch and hard to root for him. That depressive state leads to actions that counter his previous sense of morality, as he decisively kills an animal, treats his friends unkindly, and blames others for his loss. Letting these harsher feelings emerge is an experiment, and most people discover their boundaries by crossing them.
Finding ways to hold compassion for himself, even the harm he causes others, is the other side of this process. Our past and our challenging emotions are a part of us, but they are only a part. Since Aang now has a strong sense of community and is learning to be himself rather than simply seeking validation, we also see him having more healthy boundaries with new people. He’s no longer befriending villains in the second season! He’s respectful and trusting enough, but he’s not putting himself in vulnerable situations nor blindly trusting everyone. Instead, he’s more likely to listen to his friends’ opinions or think about how the monks might’ve been critical towards something (they’re complaints about Ba Sing Se, for example). By knowing what he cares for, he can know himself, the powerful, loving, grief-struck monk. And he can trust that, though he might not be everyone’s favorite person, he does not need to feel ashamed or guilty for who he is or what he’s been through.
Book 3: Fire
However, despite a sense of self and a sense of belonging, Aang and the group still find themselves constantly asking for permission throughout their time in Ba Sing Se. It’s in the third season, Fire, that initiative and assertiveness become the focus. And who better to provide guidance in this than the official prince of “you never think these things through,” Zuko. It’s no longer a time for avoidance or sturdy defensiveness. It is the season of action. Fire is the element of power, desire, and will, all of which require us to impact others. We see the motif of initiative throughout the season: the rebels attempt to storm the Firelord on the Day of the Black Sun; Aang attempts to share his feelings and kiss Katara; Katara bends Hama and a couple of fire nation soldiers to her will. In each of these examples, the initiators face disgrace. Positive intent does not bring forth success, by any means, only more consequences to be dealt with. This is perhaps Aang’s biggest challenge. He is afraid that his actions will fail, or worse, they will succeed but he will be wrong in what he has chosen. The sequencing in the series, here, is important. We have already seen how Aang has worked to care for (and appreciate) the well-being of others and how he has learned to care for his own needs. With this in mind, he should be able to trust that his actions will derive from these wells of compassion. But easier said than done. Compassion can also trap him into indecision, hearkening back to his avoidant mistake in the storm, in which the whole mess began. Aang’s internal conflict, here, becomes more pronounced as the finale draws nearer.
I think it’s especially significant that we witness Aang disagreeing with his mentors and friends. He must act in a way that will contradict and even threaten his sources of support if he is to trust his own desires. Even the fandom disagrees about the choice Aang makes, which further highlights the fact that making a decisive choice is contentious. There is no point in believing it will grant you love or admiration or success. For someone who began (and spent much of) the series regularly sacrificing himself just to bring others peace, Aang’s decision to prioritize his own interests despite the very explicit possibility of failure is the ultimate growth his character can have and the ultimate representation of him processing his trauma. (This arc was echoed and made even more explicit in many ways with Adora in the She-ra finale.) The last significant time Aang followed his desire, in his mind, was when he escaped the Air Temple in the storm. To want something, to trust his desire and act on it, is an act of incredible courage for him, and whether it succeeded or failed, whether anyone agrees or disagrees with it, it offered Aang a sense of peace and resolution. Now I appreciate and love Zuko’s iconic redemption arc, but Aang’s subtler arc, which subverts the “chosen one” narrative and broke ground to represent a prevalent emotional experience, stands out to me as the foundation for the show I love so much.
#aang#avatar the last airbender#trauma#ptsd#cptsd#atla#atla meta#zuko#redemption arc#adora#spop#catradora#catra#also no one will read this far in the tags but this is phoebe buffay's arc on friends
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Hate To Think About You With Somebody Else - F.W.
Fred Weasley x Reader
Summary: Fred and Y/N used to be friends with benefits, but that arrangement ended in heartbreak. Can Fred handle seeing her out with somebody else?
Word Count: 4.7k
Warnings: 18+ NSFW. MINORS DNI. Mentions of alcohol, mentions of blood, small bit of violence/fight scene (the reader and Fred are not injured), possessive talk, fingering, degradation, bondage, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, a bit angsty with a happy ending. Please let me know if I’ve forgotten anything!
A/N: For @theweasleytwinsgirl who asked for the reader teasing Fred, leading to her being tied up! I added a bit of plot to it, because I cannot help it. Obviously, this fic is lightly inspired by “Somebody Else” by The 1975. I am not very confident in my smut writing abilities, so any feedback would be appreciated! I also feel I should thank @lumosandnoxwriting for giving me advice and reassurance throughout writing this. Pictures are from Pinterest.
I have not included all of my general taglist, because I do not know who is 18+ or who wants to be tagged in smut.
Fred, George, Angelina, and Alicia sat leisurely around the twins’ shared living room, laughing and giggling over drinks. The past few weeks had been hell at the shop, so the boys felt they needed a much deserved night to just relax. Previously, Fred would have liked nothing more than to relieve his tension with Y/N, but unfortunately, that was no longer an option.
“Have you heard about Y/N and Pucey?” Angelina prodded with a giggle, her eyes alit with mischief.
Fred’s jaw immediately clenched at the sound of her name, his grip on his glass tightening. He most certainly hadn’t heard about her in a few weeks, and he hadn’t expected to have such a visceral reaction at the mere mention of her name. Regaining his composure, he forced himself to relax a bit and quirk a brow, feigning both confusion and interest.
“No? They shagging?” George questioned, sitting forward in his seat.
“Apparently, but I guess it’s becoming a bit more serious than just that.” Angelina shrugged, turning her gaze to Alicia beside her for confirmation. When the second girl nodded, Fred downed another gulp of his drink.
That can’t be right, he thought. It hadn’t even been a month since the last time they had been together, Y/N pinned beneath him as breathy moans escaped her lips. In the dim light of his bedroom, she had whispered to him that her pussy was his, that she was his, and now, apparently, she was with someone else. Some part of him knew that he had no right to be upset, because truthfully, it was his choice to end their little arrangement. But she had left him no choice after breaking their number one rule.
Y/N and Fred had ventured past friendly acquaintanceship about a year before, after a few too many firewhiskys at an infamous Weasley twins’ party. The morning after, they had tiptoed around each other, clearly uncomfortable by the change in dynamic. But it didn’t take long for it to happen again, and again, and again. Before either of them had really realized it, they had become much more than friends but much less than really together, and Fred wanted to keep it that way. He wanted them to remain in that middle ground.
As far as he knew, Y/N was more than fine with where they stood with each other. Until one day, she wasn’t. He remembered clearly how she had bit her lip and gazed at him, only moments after finishing him off with her mouth. He had looked at her curiously, wondering where her usual, joking, post-coital self had gone.
“Have you ever thought of me as more than, you know, just an easy fuck?”
Her words had shocked him, because they certainly weren’t the turn of phrase he would have used. He didn’t think of her as ‘an easy fuck,’ he thought of her as a friend. Someone he cared deeply for. But as he gazed into her desperate eyes, he was struck with the realization that he didn’t care for her the way she hoped. He had swallowed deeply, preparing his words in his mind, before shattering her heart.
Now, he wasn’t sure why he cared. Sure, he had thought about her a lot in the weeks they’d been apart, but he was always so sure that he had made the right choice. Relationships were messy, and he was young, so he had no intention to be tied down so soon. Still, the thought of her with Adrian Pucey made his blood boil, and he wished desperately that he could put an explanation to the feeling.
“Fred?”
The sound of his name tore him from his thoughts of Y/N, and he quickly plastered on his signature goofy grin before sitting forward and re-immersing himself in the conversation. Still, in the back of his mind, images of Y/N and Adrian played on repeat, fueling a fire that he hadn’t realized was a lit within him.
-
A week later, Fred found himself at a party at Oliver Wood’s flat, celebrating a win for Puddlemere United. There was an array of different people there, ranging from his old Hogwarts team, to groupies, to people who had just showed up at the mention of a party. Fred had planned on getting drunk that night, but after seeing George and Lee sloppily grinding on a few witches in an intoxicated bliss, he decided maybe—for once—he would be the responsible one.
Fred had gone nearly an hour, just barely nursing a glass of firewhisky and chatting with old friends jovially, before his eyes landed on a familiar face entering the party.
Fred was frozen at the eye contact they held, his first time seeing her in weeks. Y/N held the gaze for a moment, before turning to grip Adrian’s wrist behind her and drag him further into the party. If Fred thought he had a strong reaction to hearing about their relationship, it was nothing compared to actually seeing it. Fred slammed his drink down and walked away from the poor girl he had been chatting with without so much as an explanation.
“Let’s get out of here.” Fred clapped a hand down on George’s shoulder the moment he reached him, pulling his attention away from the girl dancing against him.
“Now?” George questioned incredulously, his brows raising. He gestured to the girl in his arms before returning a pleading look to his brother. “Come on, mate. This isn’t a great time.”
Fred knew he could convince his brother to leave if he explained, but his mouth felt entirely too dry. He couldn’t seem to formulate the words as to why he needed to get out of there. So, instead, he sighed and offered his brother a nod before retreating back to the outskirts of the people dancing.
Normally, Fred was the life of the party. By this point in the night, he’d usually be plastered and singing or dancing with no remorse. But seeing Y/N with a bloke like Pucey caused him to have an entire demeanor change, leaving him scowling leaned against the wall.
It didn’t take long for his eyes to find Y/N amongst those dancing, pressed closely to Pucey behind her. She was dancing provocatively, even turning in the man’s grasp every little bit to kiss him sloppily. At first, Fred had been almost certain that she was doing it on purpose. The way she was right in his line of vision, acting completely out of character in her open demeanor, it all felt like too much for him to handle.
Then, she made eye contact with him, and held it, and he just knew. She was doing it on purpose. All of her actions had been a way to get him worked up, to see if he would get jealous, and dammit it was working. Fred chewed on the inside of his cheek, holding her gaze as she grinded her bum against Pucey. She held his gaze as she slowly craned her neck and pulled Adrian into a searing kiss, her eyes back on Fred the moment the two pulled apart.
That was the final straw for Fred. He wasn’t going to stand idly by while she taunted him so openly, showing him everything he was missing. So, he pushed through the crowd of people and found his way to the two of them, ignoring the small smirk that had risen on her face.
“Y/N,” He breathed out, just loud enough for her to hear over the music. Suddenly, he was entirely unsure of his next move, but he desperately wanted to regain control over the situation. So, he said the first thing that came to mind. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“Oi, what the hell, Weasley?” Adrian paused his dancing, although his hands remained gripped on Y/N’s waist. “Can’t you see we’re a little busy here?”
Fred completely ignored the man at first, his eyes never leaving Y/N. He could see by the look on her face that he had played exactly into what she wanted, but with the jealousy coursing through him, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. She smirked slightly at Fred before craning her neck to look back at Adrian, almost as if she were challenging him to fight for her further.
“I can see,” Fred seethed, finally looking up at Adrian. “I can see a poor girl not having a very good time. So, I’m offering her a better option. Why don’t you let her decide?”
Adrian scoffed, taking a small step back from Y/N but keeping one hand on her hip. He looked down at her, waiting expectantly for her to deny any desire to go off with Fred. When she simply glanced between the two of them, Adrian’s brows furrowed and a look of offense overtook his features.
“Come on, Y/N.” He pleaded. “Tell him.”
Y/N bit down on her lip, the action only infuriating Adrian further. He looked at her incredulously before scoffing and turning his head away.
“Should’ve known a desperate little slut like you couldn’t be loyal.”
In an instant, Fred pushed Y/N out of the way and landed a hard blow to Adrian’s jaw. Y/N was dazed, everything seeming to move in slow motion as all eyes turned on them. Adrian had faltered only for a moment, cupping his jaw in his hand before straightening up and lunging towards Fred.
Luckily, George and Lee were there after a moment, tearing Adrian away and threatening to pummel him as they marched him towards the door. Y/N knew Fred wouldn’t need their help in a fight, but she was still grateful that a full out brawl hadn’t occurred because of her. Y/N rushed to Fred, cradling his fist in her hand and glancing up at his eyes.
“Are you okay?” Her voice was soft, but the music had stopped, so he could hear her.
“‘m fine.” He answered curtly, glancing between the way she held his hand and her eyes. “So, can we get out of here?”
Y/N’s lips formed into a tight line, so as to conceal the smirk that desperately wanted to break through. She offered him a quick nod, and in an instant he was dragging her out the door and apparating her back to his flat.
The moment that they were in Fred’s room and the door shut, his lips were on hers. Her back was pressed up against his door, desperate little moans leaving her mouth as she reveled in the feeling of having him against her once more. Fred took the opportunity to push his tongue into her mouth when her lips parted, taking full control of the situation.
Y/N was more than content to let him take over, having missed him in their time apart more than she would ever like to admit. Of course, the feelings she still held for him lingered strongly, but she tried not to think about that as Fred pressed himself further against her. Adrian had been nothing more than a distraction, a feeble hope that she had held onto as a way to get over the tall red head, but it clearly hadn’t worked. She felt a bit bad, because she knew Adrian cared about her far more deeply than she did him, but she also knew she had made it clear she didn’t want a relationship. The irony was sickening.
“That was quite a show you were putting on tonight.” Fred pulled away from her breathlessly, his eyes tracking up and down her body.
“Yeah?” Y/N cocked her head to the side, feigning innocence. “I don’t know what you mean, I was just having a bit of fun.”
A low growl crawled out of his throat as he pressed his lips to hers once more, using more force than previously. Y/N squeaked at the intensity, but quickly melted into him. His hands trailed up and down her sides as she rested her own around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.
Fred’s hands finally made their way to the hem of her shirt, his fingers ghosting over the skin of her stomach and sending a shockwave throughout her. Slowly, he trailed his fingers up, raising her shirt up in his wake. Y/N was quick to oblige, breaking away from him to allow him to tear the garment off completely.
For a moment, Fred’s eyes trailed over her slightly revealed form, drinking in the way she looked half-naked. He hadn’t realized how much he missed seeing her like this, and he found that his breath hitched at even the littlest bit of exposure.
As his eyes met her pleading ones, he quickly recovered. Their passion resumed in an instant as he pressed his lips to hers once more, spinning her away from the door and walking her backwards towards his bed. Y/N allowed him to lightly push her back onto it, her heart fluttering at the sudden gentleness of his actions. She’d always loved the dominance he held over her, but something about what was happening between them now felt different. But, as he draped his body over her own, all of her hopes of actual romance melted away and her mind was entirely clouded with just the appeal of him.
Y/N arched herself against Fred, giving him the space to unclasp her bra. He slid the straps down her arms slowly, trailing open-mouthed kisses down her jaw and neck, until he finally met the tops of her breasts. He cast her bra aside, shooting her one last look before taking a pebbled nipple into his mouth. Y/N moaned at the contact, her fingers immediately threading themselves through his flaming hair. As his teeth gently grazed her nipple she gave his hair a tug, causing him to moan against her.
Fred continued his trail downward, planting kisses down her torso until he made it to the band of her leggings. Y/N lifted her hips and Fred held eye contact with her as he slowly pulled them down her legs. Y/N realized that he seemed to be drawing all of this out, pushing her to the point of pure desperation to make her pay for teasing him all night. Still, she bit her tongue and held back any thoughts of pleading with him, she couldn’t give in that easy.
When she was left in nothing but her panties, Fred sat back on his knees and leisurely unbuttoned his shirt. Y/N watched him intently, her frustration increasing significantly, until she could no longer contain it. She let out a desperate whine, pleading with the man with her eyes alone.
“Something wrong, love?” Fred cocked his head to the side and smirked.
“Freddie,” Y/N whined, the nickname feeling foreign yet fitting on her tongue.
Fred discarded his shirt before circling his hand around on of her ankles and hitching it up on his shoulder. He placed a soft kiss to the inside of her ankle before slowly trailing kisses back up her leg towards her thigh. Y/N shuttered as his lips ghosted over her clothed pussy, her eyes squeezing shut.
“Please.”
Fred looped one finger under the hem of her lace panties, but made no effort to pull them down. When a low chuckle escaped his lips, Y/N knew she was in trouble. Her eyes flew open once more, immediately meeting his darkened, lust-filled ones.
“Did you really think I’d give in that easy?” Fred mocked, punctuating his question by snapping the band of her underwear. “You tease me all night, putting on a show for me, acting like a desperate little slut.” He paused to wet his lips, drinking in the soft moan that escaped from her lips. “That is what you are, isn’t it?”
“Only for you, Freddie.”
“Really?” Fred scoffed, sitting back up to begin fiddling with his belt. Y/N raised herself up on her forearms, desperation and arousal pooling in her core. “Because it didn’t seem that way tonight.” Fred’s tongue darted out of his mouth, swiping over his bottom lip as he gazed at her hungrily. “Think maybe I might need to remind you whose slut you are. What do you think?”
She whimpered, but managed a feeble nod. In their previous times together, her and Fred were nothing if not adventurous in the bedroom. Still, as he waved his wand and bound her wrists to his headboard, she couldn’t help but gasp and lightly fight against the restraints. Fred held a devilish smirk at her plight as he stood from the bed and sat his wand back down.
Fred crawled back over her, his intense dominance faltering for just a moment as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.
“Still remember the safe word, yeah?”
“Yes, Freddie.” She managed to speak, although it was difficult. Fred leaned back and searched her eyes for a moment before leaning in and placing a soft kiss to her lips. After that, any sense of gentleness faded.
Fred’s lips sucked and bit at her neck hungrily, one of his large hands trailing down to rub her through her panties while the other massaged her breast. Y/N’s thighs clamped around his hand, which quickly earned her a light swat to her hip.
“Stay still, or I’ll have no problem tying your legs up too.” Fred growled against her neck.
Y/N quickly obliged, spreading her legs further open. While previously she may have been more inclined to push Fred a bit, her mind was too clouded with lust to do anything but obey him. After weeks of mediocre sex with Adrian, she was ready to completely give herself over to Fred, and let him have her in anyway he wanted.
Fred’s hand pushed the fabric of her panties aside, allowing one finger to drag through her wet folds. She was already soaking wet for him, despite the fact he’d hardly touched her. Without a warning, he plunged one finger into her, lightly moaning at the way she constricted around him. Y/N’s back arched ever so slightly against him, tugging futilely against her bound wrists. He set a steady pace, thrusting his finger in and out of her before adding another and scissoring the two. He changed pace after a moment, beginning to curl his fingers up into her as his thumb rubbed circles against her waiting clit. The pressure in her core grew quickly from that, and she couldn’t help the way she loudly moaned out.
“Right there, yes, oh god…”
Fred was now smirking as he pulled away from her neck, significantly satisfied with the many markings he’d left as well as how quickly he could bring her to this point. He knew her body like the back of his hand, he knew her signs for when she was close, and it made it so much easier to enact his plan.
Just as Y/N was teetering on the edge, desperate whines and random babbles leaving her lips, Fred pulled his hand away. She let out a frustrated and confused groan, her eyes flying open as she felt the build up slowly slip away. Fred just grinned at her, before getting off the bed and ridding himself of his trousers and boxers. He lazily stroked himself as he took her in, chest heaving and covered in a light sheen of sweat, completely at his mercy. She had stopped her attempts at fighting her restraints, looking at him like she were almost defeated. In her mind, she’d begun to fear the very real possibility that Fred wouldn’t let her cum at all.
“You seem frustrated.” Fred cooed mockingly, coming to lean back over her and gently brush her cheek. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Fred.” Y/N spoke firmly, though her eyes portrayed her fears. “You’ve got to let me finish.”
“Hm.” Fred seemed to ponder that, leaning back to slowly pull her panties down her legs. “I don’t think I have to do anything. In fact, I could just leave you here all tied up and needy.”
“Please,” Y/N whined, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. “I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”
“It’s a start.” Fred tutted, finally discarding her panties aside. He leaned down near her ear once more, his warm breath sending a chill down her spine. “What I’d really like, though, is to hear how much you need me. Wanna hear you say it.”
“Please, Freddie, I need your cock so bad. Need you to ruin me.” Y/N cried out, losing all sense of dignity as her sex-addled brain took over. Fred had intended to tease her much longer, but her desperate pleas were going straight to his cock, and he couldn’t hold out any longer.
“That’s all you had to say, love.”
Fred hitched her leg around his hip, gripping his cock in his free hand. He teased the head through her wet folds, shivering at the moan she let out from just the smallest contact. Then, he pushed his hips forward, not stopping until he was completely buried in her. Their low moans mixed together in the quiet of the room, Fred being careful not to move until he was sure she had adjusted to his size.
“Fuck, I forgot how fucking good you feel.” He groaned, burying his face in her neck.
“Move… Please.”
He needed no further encouragement. Fred pulled out about halfway before snapping his hips back forward, setting a brutal but steady pace. Y/N’s loud moans and Fred’s grunts mixed together, accompanied only by the sound of their skin on skin contact. Y/N could feel her orgasm building again as his dick hit her g-spot with every thrust, and she was almost embarrassed by how quickly he could bring her to this point.
“‘m so close, Freddie.” Y/N breathed out, knowing it would only infuriate him further if she came without his permission.
“Already?” Fred scoffed, although he knew he wasn’t far behind.
Still, he wasn’t ready for things to end so soon, so he pulled out completely, ignoring the desperate whine that left her throat. He pulled both of her legs together and pushed her knees up against her chest, holding her ankles together with one hand before thrusting back into her desperate cunt. The new position allowed him to hit deeper within her as he thrust downward, causing Y/N to scream out. The pain was delicious, it was everything she had longed for in their time apart.
“You really think you deserve to cum?” Fred grunted, landing a particularly hard thrust into her. “After everything you pulled tonight?”
“Please.” Y/N whined. She was so close, she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle it if he stole another orgasm from her.
“Answer the question, slut.” Fred demanded, his pace quickening ever so slightly. “That’s what you are, isn’t it? A desperate little cum slut.”
“Yes.” Y/N cried out. “But only for you, Freddie. Just a slut for you.”
“That’s right.” Fred’s rhythm had begun to falter, approaching his own orgasm quickly. Still, he was unsure if he’d let her finish or not. “You’re my little slut. Only I get to call you that, right?”
“Yes, Freddie.” Y/N whined, beginning to tug again on her restraints. She wanted nothing more than to scrape her nails down his back, but being completely at his mercy turned her on endlessly.
“Good.” Fred was close, so fucking close, but he had made his decision. So he had to hold off. “Cum for me, then. You’ve earned it.”
That was all the encouragement she needed, and as Fred hit one more thrust into her g-spot she was tumbling over the edge. Electricity seemed to shoot all throughout her body as she loudly moaned out his name. Her legs were shaking and she was certain she’d be sore tomorrow, but she had little time to care about that as he continued to pound into her.
Y/N knew Fred well, just as well as he knew her, so she knew he was close. Her mind felt almost entirely blank and she wasn’t sure she had much energy for anything, but she wanted to bring him to his release badly. So, she clenched around him, a moan leaving her lips when he stuttered and groaned. His thrusts were faltering significantly, and after a few moments he was crying out her name as he finished in her.
Fred pulled out and dropped her legs before crashing down next to her. He knew that he needed to untie her, but they also both just needed a moment to breathe. All that could be heard was the sounds of their mixed pants as they both came down from their highs. Once he was significantly more relaxed, he gripped his wand and swished it lazily, effectively removing the restraints she was held in.
Y/N hands dropped down and she quickly went to rub at her wrists, but Fred was quick to bat her hands away and do it himself. He examined both wrist closely, seeming to want to ensure that they were okay.
“They weren’t too tight, were they?” Fred implored after a moment. His genuine concern made her heart flutter, and she couldn’t help herself as she leaned in and placed a soft kiss to his lips.
“No, they were perfect—all of it was perfect.” She sighed as she pulled away from him. Her general cognition was beginning to return, and with it her fears of all of the pain she had gone through in the past etched their way through.
Sure, Fred had clearly gotten jealous at the party. Then, he had gotten possessive and claimed her in the bedroom. But that didn’t necessarily mean that he harbored the same feelings for her that she had for him. The fear nearly paralyzed her, and she wasn’t sure if she should quickly redress and flee the room or implore what this all meant. Luckily, he answered her internal questioning before she even had to ask.
“I don’t want to see you out with Pucey.” Fred sighed, his eyes not meeting hers. “Which is a total prat thing to say, but it’s true. I don’t want to see you out with any bloke, really.”
“Fred…” Y/N spoke tentatively, her eyes begging him to speak further.
“I want you, Y/N. Like, really.” Fred finally met her gaze. “Not just in my bed.”
“What, do you want me on the couch too?” Y/N tried to joke, hoping it would cover up her nervous tone. But it didn’t. So, her voice became soft. “Don’t get my hopes up, Freddie.”
“I’m being serious.” He shook his head. “I want to take you out on fancy dates, or watch movies with you on my couch. Bloody hell, I want to bring you to my parent’s house for Sunday dinners. I don’t know, I’m not good at this. Whatever it is that couples do.”
“Fred Weasley,” A small smile had begun to grow on Y/N’s face. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”
“Yes.” Fred answered earnestly. “That is, only if you’re going to say yes. Otherwise, this was all just a joke—”
Y/N shut him up by pressing her lips to his, her mouth still curled upwards in a smile. It was impossible to hide the genuine happiness that his words brought her.
“Yes.” She answered softly as she pulled away.
A similar smile began to grow on Fred’s face as he completely registered her words, and he couldn’t help but dive back in for another kiss. Y/N was his, completely. Something he’d probably wanted for so long, but had simply been too daft to realize it. Now, as he held her in his arms, he promised himself he’d never make such a mistake again.
Tagging a few 18+ mutuals from my usual taglist: @wand3ringr0s3 @gcdric @theweasleysredhair
#fred weasley smut#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley#fred weasley x you#Fred Weasley fanfic
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ATLA AU Idea which is Basically “Azula Raises Katara for Several Years”
I’ve had this idea kicking around my head for months, and, since I have no intention of writing it, I figure I might as well post it. To be clear, the premise of this fanfic is “Azula, Katara, and Sokka get traumatized in ways they weren’t in canon, but the events that traumatize them potentially help lead to a better outcome in the long-term,” so be prepared for rough sailing.
This idea is very much inspired by all the “Katara gets kidnapped young and raised within the Fire Nation royal family” fanfics, which I think can be excellent if done with care. However, in a situation where Katara and Azula develop a relationship when they are young, the natural tendency is to make Katara the “motherly” or parental one, and I wanted to turn that on its head. I also wanted to explore some of the possible implications of Azula taking on adult sized responsibilities as a child and of the perverse ways that power differentials can influence things. I also wanted to explore some of the ways that Azula’s commitment to duty and responsibility can be a positive thing. Another ~2000 or so words under the cut.
The premise is that, shortly after Zuko gets banished, Katara gets captured by the Southern Raiders as the last Southern Water Tribe waterbender and brought back to Caldera and presented as a trophy to Ozai. Ozai’s first reaction is to have her executed, but fortunately Azula is also present in the throne room. For reasons which Azula doesn’t entirely understand herself but which definitely have something to do with her guilt over what happened to Zuko, Azula decides to intervene, despite the risks involved. However, not being Zuko, she manages to do this without provoking Ozai, through convincing him that Katara is more valuable alive as a trophy, a symbol, and a plaything than she is dead. Ozai doesn’t really care that much, so he pawns Katara off to Azula and basically forgets about her, accidentally using language that implies to Azula that Katara and taking care of Katara is now Azula’s responsibility. Azula is at an age where she’s started to take her responsibilities and duties with deadly seriousness.
Katara doesn’t know what to make of this all. She’s been severely traumatized by being kidnapped and torn from her family and culture and by having her life threatened by Ozai. She’s aware that Azula saved her life, but the language Azula used to in order to do so sounds warped and screwed up to Katara, who is unaware that Azula had to say what she said in order to manipulate Ozai. Katara noticed that Azula seemed a little nervous when she talked to Ozai, but Katara doesn’t initially know how risky and dangerous what Azula did was.
Again, Azula takes her responsibilities with deadly seriousness. So, when it becomes her responsibility to take care of Katara, Azula is determined to do the best possible job, even though she’s 11 and Katara is also 11. If there were any responsible adults present, they would intervene and talk to Azula about how awful an idea this is, but there aren’t any left. In any case, Katara’s waterbending abilities make it so she has to be kept under some kind of supervision, Azula is perceptive enough to worry that Katara might be mistreated if she got fostered out, and in any case Azula is convinced she can do a better job than any foster family.
Azula is a badly abused 11 year old who grew up indoctrinated in an absolutely toxic ideology. She’s never really seen good parenting in her life. The idea of her trying to parent should be terrifying. Yet she’s aware that Ursa didn’t do the best job with her, and since Katara isn’t a “monster” Azula sees no reason to replicate Ursa’s behavior. Azula believes the way that Ozai treats her is absolutely justified, even though she has some knowledge of its negative effects on her, but since Katara isn’t a princess who has immense duties to her nation and family, Azula sees no reason to treat her that way. In fact, Azula is aware of ignorance about parenting, and tries to read as much about parenting as she can. She also reads as much about the water tribes as she can in order to try to understand Katara better.
In terms of being a “parent,” Azula is overall a little standoffish, absent, and demanding. She doesn’t need to directly look after Katara’s physical care(she has servants for that), but she has to look after Katara’s emotional needs, her education, and her overall care. As a temporary measure, she arranges that Katara sleep on a cot in Azula’s room because she’s not sure where to put her, and this arrangement becomes permanent. This means Azula and Katara usually eat together, since Azula has taken most of her meals in her room, but Azula is very busy with her duties, training, and education, so they don’t spend much time together in a typical day. Azula has Katara officially declared a servant(but one who only reports to Azula) in order to regularize her status and allow Katara to draw a salary(most of which Azula holds in escrow for when Katara comes of age), but Azula only rarely asks Katara to do work; Katara had far more chores back in the Southern Water Tribe. On the other hand, Azula demands that Katara work hard in her education and on practicing her waterbending. Katara is too old to be sent to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, but Azula obtains tutors for her, in addition to getting her whatever waterbending scrolls she can and trying to obtain the best possible bending coaches for Katara’s waterbending, sometimes even stepping in herself to try to coach Katara.
Azula is aware that Katara wants to return home, but she doesn’t think that Ozai would ever allow that, and, in any case, Azula is an imperialist who thinks Katara is better off being “civilized” in the Fire Nation than she would be back in her ignorant and “savage” home. A large portion of Katara’s education is intended to “civilize” her. Azula doesn’t have firm ideas of where adult Katara will fit into Fire Nation society but plays with the idea of marrying her into the nobility or of making her governor of the conquered Water Tribes. So overall, Azula does a shockingly good job as “parent” given she’s an abused 11 year child acting within the toxic norms of the Fire Nation, but that still means she does a bad job, and her relationship with Katara remains pretty toxic.
Ozai and the rest of the court have some awareness of what’s going on, but they honestly don’t care as long Azula continues to be an exemplary princess, fulfills her duties, and continues to exceed expectations. Some members of the court even find Azula’s personal commitment to “civilizing” a savage to be inspiring. However, the burden of taking care of Katara means that Azula is under even more pressure than she is in canon, with the good news being that Azula has something more of a support network than in canon. Katara provides some measure of support, and in this AU Azula never has the energy to really push Ukano’s political career forward, and so Mai never has to leave, so Ty Lee also stays put.
Katara, again, is severely traumatized by her experiences, and to a degree feels helpless. She knows that she can’t escape and go back home. She’s resentful of Azula and particularly of the efforts to cut Katara off from her culture, but at the same time Katara ends internalizing some Fire Nation culture. Yet after a while Katara gets a sense of how toxic the environment is at the Royal Court, and she soon(after overhearing a conversation between Mai and Ty Lee which was supposed to be confidential) learns what happened to Zuko and realizes how much Azula risked in order to protect Katara, and Katara can’t help but feel intense gratitude to Azula for it. Azula also gradually becomes more and more respectful of Water Tribe culture, and Katara deeply appreciates the emphasis Azula places on Katara mastering waterbending. Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee are also the only people in the Fire Nation who are ever consistently kind to Katara, and Katara ends up deeply bonding with each one of them, although the resulting relationships are not the healthiest. Katara eventually starts to develop a sense of how each one of them has been deeply victimized by Fire Nation culture. Azula goes to great lengths to hide her own struggles and pain from Katara, but Katara spends a lot of time with her and sometimes notices. Several years in, Katara notices some positive changes in Azula and begins to play with the idea that she can positively influence Azula so that Azula will be become a kinder and anti-imperialist Firelord.
Azula thinks Katara’s waterbending is the coolest thing ever(well, aside from firebending at least), a sentiment shared to a lesser degree by Mai and Ty Lee. Azula also thinks that learning to fight is vital, so she brings Katara along for her spars with Mai and Ty Lee. Katara makes rapid progress, particularly due to her access to many waterbending scrolls. As a result of this, and of Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee not separating, all four girls end up being significantly better combatants than they were in canon.
Mai and Ty Lee have complex reactions to Katara, but they eventually come to like and even love her. There is an element of resentment present because Katara takes up so much of the ever busy Azula’s time, but Azula forces her friends to spend time with Katara, and they end up bonding with her. Katara’s empathy and compassion works in her favor here, especially since she rapidly develops into one of the few people who sees and appreciates them for who they are. Mai and Ty Lee also find Katara’s waterbending to be an interesting and intriguing method of combat, soon come to respect Katara’s budding combat skills, and, as people deeply unhappy with their own places in society, they find Katara’s stories of life at the south pole to be interesting. Mai has issues with Katara being a little too “motherly,” but on the other hand appreciates that Katara pays attention to Mai’s actual desires and needs. Ty Lee sometimes finds Katara to be a little too similar to her for comfort, but also at the same time appreciates Katara’s caring side and the way she’s not reluctant to give her positive attention. Frequently Azula is too busy to join her friends, so Katara, Ty Lee, and Mai end up hanging out together. Freaks and outsiders stick together.
Azula, through her research into the Water Tribes, personal experience with Katara, and interest in Katara’s waterbending, begins to subtly yet strongly move in anti-imperialist directions and doubt Fire Nation ideology, but her transformation has scarcely begun by the time Book 1 begins. She does benefit from better relationships with her friends, though, and Katara gives her some emotional support. Meanwhile, to a lesser degree Mai and Ty Lee have had their own doubts develop about imperial ideology.
Azula tends to see her relationship with Katara mainly in terms of responsibility and duty, but she ultimately comes to fiercely love Katara.
Zuko and Iroh do their things, just like in canon. They receive vague reports about Katara’s presence in court, but they don’t understand the significance of them.
Sokka gets badly traumatized by losing his sister and believes her to be killed by the Fire Nation. Hakoda, Bato, and the water tribe warriors also still leave to fight the Fire Nation. Sokka is absolutely dedicated to seeking vengeance on the Fire Nation, and when he accidently defrosts Aang, he sees an opportunity.
Book 1 largely plays out the same, with minor changes. I think an interesting one is that Suki ends up joining a badly understrength Team Avatar and temporally leaving her warriors behind in order to aid Avatar Kyoshi’s reincarnation with the fulfillment of his destiny.
Book 2 opens with Azula being sent to capture Zuko and Iroh. Mai and Ty Lee tag along, in part with the hope of making sure Zuko is captured without being harmed, and Azula decides to bring Katara too rather than leave her alone in Caldera. However, the operation goes south, and Azula, Mai, Ty Lee, and Katara soon find themselves hunting the Avatar. Katara’s loyalties are about to be tested like never before…Meanwhile, Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee all have seeds of anti-imperialism growing within them, but what will it take for these seeds to blossom and give fruit? Meanwhile, Azula grapples with not only her canon trauma but also the trauma she experienced through her parentification.
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barring the no mercy route being an influence in this case, how would you describe chara's personality? I cannot describe them well at all despite them being my favorite character. they're too complex lol. all of the meta i can find at this time as them described at both extremes of innocent & evil but i don't think that's accurate
TW: discussions of canon dark topics such as abuse , death and suicide
i love talking about chara, i've talked about them at length before lmao. thank u for giving me a chance to talk about my beloved child.
you can actually read a character exploration i'm doing in a mini-arc for Askfallenroyalty. actually, if you want one condensed post, this comic sums up chara's motives
My interpretation:
chara is an abused kid and suicidal kid*(1) who ran to mount ebott to die.*(2) upon learning that monsters are made of love and humans aren't*(3), chara began to hate humanity. the deltarune prophecy*(4) makes them to be The Angel despite being a human. Feeling undeserving of this title and obligated to fulfill it, Chara wanted to be a good kid more than anything.
But then the buttercup pie incident happened. They've accidentally*(5) poisoned asgore and came up with a plan to ensure the prophecy could be fulfilled and take a hit against humanity. Two birds with one stone -who cares if it's also a personal win too? then obviously the plan goes up in flames and they and asriel are murdered. then asgore wants to kill of all humanity.
your influence*(6) gets Chara onto a path of redemption or a path of destruction, mirroring the deltarune prophecy's two main interpretations.*(7)
in summery: chara is a scared kid trying to fit into a world that demands violence by the past actions of the previous generations. The war massacred monsters and locked them up with a kill-solution -ensuring that further violence would be needed to be free, thus continuing the cycle of violence.
chara is just a kid. they knit, they make macaroni art, they loved their family and had a best friend forever.* (8) but they're also vengeful, they cared so deeply for monsterkind they were ready to die and had no idea they'd be awake as a soul, they were prepared for death. they're complicated, you can't have one side without the other. while i’ve never wanted to murder anyone, i can still relate deeply to chara and see myself in them a lot. the tragedy of them -the fact they never really got a “happy ending” like everyone else just haunts me and it’s why I spend so much time making AFR. I just... love this character so much, i want this kid to be happy. (not that it could ever be easy to get there, happy endings aren’t free.)
And frankly, seeing this hurt kid get demonized just rubs me the wrong way, and it feels completely against the morals Undertale tries to tell with it’s story. I see it as a cautionary tale against violence and dehumanizing others for the sake of hate and violence. how kids can be influenced by the violence -or kindness around them. you don’t need to forgive the ones who hurt you, but killing them is not always the solution -though sometimes necessary as framed in the Undyne the Undying fight.
People get both Undertale’s themes and chara wrong the most, and for the game that’s meant the world to me it bothers me more than it should lol. It’s a Good Story, and I don’t mean to frame my interpretation of the character or themes as 100% canon and I know Mr.Fox’s brain to confirm it kinda deal, but with all the time I’ve spent analyzing and thinking it over I do think it’s not off in the general direction of it lol. And besides the author’s intent isn’t really the end-all-to-be-all. It’s what you get out of the story and the themes that matter and stick with you. No one can take that away from you.
Sources and evidence:
"* If you're cuter, monsters won't hit you as hard." -faded ribbion flavor text * "The ends of the tools have been filed down to make them safer." -gardening tools in New Home (and iirc Toriel's home as well, too lazy to double check rn) * Where are the knives. -no mercy chara (this and paired with the previous imply there are no sharp objects in reach of chara's home because chara can't be trusted with sharp objects out of self harm. This doesn't necessarily mean abuse but paired with them hating humanity so deeply, being suicidal and a child it paints a picture of abuse.
"* I know why (chara) climbed the mountain.* It wasn't for a very happy reason." -asriel post pacifist epilogue dialogue
"* Love, hope, compassion... * This is what people say monster SOULs are made of. * But the absolute nature of "SOUL" is unknown. * After all, humans have proven their SOULs don't need these things to exist." -Library book on monster souls)
* Legend has it, an 'angel' who has seen the surface will descend from above and bring us freedom. - gerson
"* It takes at least a human soul... * And a monster soul. * ...* If you want to go home... * You'll have to take his soul. * You'll have to kill ASGORE." -Alphys. Because boss monster souls are the exception and can persist after death for a short period of time, Chara could of killed any of the family members to escape the underground.
this implies escaping wasn't the goal -it was to die (considering they already attempted suicide to fall underground the first time, this is explicitly suicide.) the plaque doesn't mention or speak like monster/human fusion's consumed soul would be aware. chara had no way of knowing they'd be awake.
also the whole thing with the pie is a prank. cups of butter. -> buttercups. putting flowers in a pie is a joke to do, we see Chara is similar to Toriel (they mimic her speech in the no mercy monologue, they say “greetings” as she does like how Asriel says “howdy” like Flowey does. Chara makes puns and jokes in the flavor text all the time.
https://imgur.com/a/zP18P -dog food bag at different LV. "When the protagonist first encounters Mad Dummy, they are given the option to beat it up. Choosing to beat it up prompts one of three responses depending on the protagonist's LOVE." (source: undertale wiki)
If the protagonist’s LV is 1, the response becomes "(You tap the dummy with your fist.) (You feel bad.)"
If the protagonist's LV is between 2 and 4, the response becomes "(You hit the dummy lightly.) (You don't feel like you learned anything.)"
If the protagonist’s LV is between 5 and 7, the response becomes "(You sock the dummy.) (Who cares?)"
If the protagonist’s LV is 8 or higher, the response becomes "(You punch the dummy at full force.) (Feels good.)"" This implies Chara (who is the narrator) will feel different about the dog food -which references the classic phrase of "glass half empty/full" showing your out look in life. Then hitting the dummy show's Frisk's out look on violence depending on LV. Note that by the end of it, it's no longer "you feel..." but "feels good" This is Chara.
7. “* Lately, the people have been taking a bleaker outlook...* Callin' that winged circle the 'Angel of Death.' “ -gerson “* Only the fearless may proceed. * Brave ones, foolish ones. * Both walk not the middle road. “ -the first plaque in the first puzzle room with Toriel. The idea is to walk on both the left and right sides -you can’t go half way in the middle. this mirrors the “true” endings are only accomplished if you stick to no mercy or pacifist only.
8. literally their home in New Home is a treasure trove of pre-game chara characterization.
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Let’s Play A Game
Pairing: Kyoutani x Reader
Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Cock Slapping, Cum Play, Fluff and Smut
Summary: Let’s play a game, Kentarou. If you behave, you get a reward. If you act up, you get a punishment. Choose wisely~
You can’t remember exactly how this whole tradition started. It had been a spur of the moment decision you had made when you were both second years at Aoba Johsai in a desperate attempt to get your boyfriend to rejoin the volleyball club.
Kyoutani loves volleyball, even if he’s too stubborn to admit it, and you can feel something heavy in your chest every time you two pass the gym on your way back home and you see his longing look that he tries to hide from you. But he’s never been subtle and you sigh when he unconsciously tightens his grip on your hand and clenches his jaw as the two of you walk further and further away from the sound of balls ricocheting off of arms, floors, and walls, Iwaizumi’s stern voice echoing throughout the gymnasium, and Oikawa’s cheerful lilt.
You hope that his love for the sport will overcome his hot headedness when it comes to your senpais. But of course it doesn’t and having had enough of your boyfriend moping around like an abandoned puppy, one day you forcefully drag his growling, snarling figure to the gymnasium, smirking at the way he doesn’t resist all that much despite the scowl on his face.
All he needed was a little nudge in the right direction and you lecture him about at least trying to get along with his upperclassmen, offhandedly sticking on a promise of a reward or a punishment depending on how he behaves before shoving him through the doors before he can retort.
If you’re honest, you had forgotten about the reward or punishment addendum, so when you pick up Kyoutani from his first practice back you’re surprised when he tentatively approaches you like a hopeful puppy.
“I didn’t get into a fight with the third-years.”
You’re taken aback by both the statement and the quiet tone of his voice and the two of you just stare at each other in silence, Kyoutani in anticipation, you in confusion.
“You said that there would be a reward?”
You don’t know whether to laugh or gape at your boyfriend and the sound that comes out of your mouth is an embarrassing guffaw. But when all he does is expectantly look at you, you can’t help the soft flutter in your heart and you pull him down by the collar of his shirt, planting a firm succinct kiss on his lips before pulling back and ruffling the top of his head affectionately. And you giggle at the faint blush you see and the upward twitch of his lips he’s trying to hide as you both straighten.
But the peaceful atmosphere is broken up by obnoxious cheering from behind the two of you and Kyoutani doesn’t need to try hiding his smile anymore, an angry glare spreading across his face as Oikawa and Hanamaki whoop and holler about their kouhai getting some action, Matsukawa giving a thumbs up, and even Iwaizumi smiling fondly at the two of you.
Needless to say, when the four third-years find out about the little game their Mad Dog and his precious girl have going on, Oikawa and Hanamaki spend most of their time trying to teasingly sabotage their underclassmen after every practice and match, over dramatizing and reacting when they see you show up to pick up your boyfriend, whining and complaining about how mean Mad Dog-chan was. And you can’t help joining them in messing around with your boyfriend, flicking him on the forehead much to their amusement and refusing to touch him, even for a quick peck on the cheek, internally laughing at how adorable he is when he slightly pouts at you, looking like a kicked puppy as he trails behind you, sulking as you both walk home.
But Iwaizumi takes pity on the fiery athlete, knocking a volleyball against Oikawa’s head and holding Hanamaki in a headlock when the two are being particularly relentless in their teasing, sending a small smile your way when he tells you your boyfriend was perfectly fine and Kyoutani perks up at the compliment, staring intently at you as you grab both his hands in yours and eagerly leaning in as you move forward to sweetly lock lips with him before you giggle and walk back home hand in hand with him.
It’s a sweet back and forth neither of you ever tire of, but as the current third-years graduate and both of you become third-years yourselves, the stakes go up as both of you officially enter adulthood.
Yahaba becomes the new referee of your little game and although he’s nowhere near as mischievous or eager about throwing Kyoutani under the bus as Seijohj’s ex-captain, he lets Kyoutani get away with much less as far as temper and attitude are concerned. And you can’t blame him. The three of you are now the highest in the school pecking order, the ones everyone else is looking up to as role models, and appearances are more important than ever especially in a sport where teamwork and morale are so vital to performance.
And not even Kyoutani dares to argue or grumble too much as Yahaba and you both scold him together when he snaps at an underclassmen for fumbling a ball, refuses to help teach or instruct the new members, knowing deep down that both of you are right, that it’s time to shed his lone Alpha attitude if they want any chance of making it to Nationals.
But on the other hand, while the new “punishments” are certainly harsher than before, the rewards are sweeter than ever and Kyoutani can’t stop hungrily staring you down when Yahaba gives you a swift thumbs up, rolling his eyes as he flees before he can (once again) witness Mad Dog crashing his lips against yours in a passionate embrace, calloused hands tightly gripping your waist as he practically devours you, tasting every inch of your mouth, not breaking apart until both of you are panting messes, greedily gulping down much needed air before clashing against each other over and over and over again until Yahaba is screaming at both of you to get a room already.
You wonder if the game will ever get old, ever lose its appeal, but years and years pass and the game continues through graduation, through college. And now here you are, full grown adults, game still going strong and you laugh at the short straightforward text you get from Tsukishima.
“He was fine.”
If someone had told you back when you were still in highschool that the beanpole from Karasuno and your boyfriend would be teammates, let alone friends in the future, you would have laughed your ass off. But life has unexpected twists and Tsukishima is now a close friend to both of you, a frequent guest at the apartment you share with your boyfriend. And you can’t help but chuckle at how surprisingly well the two get along, their mutual dislike for pointless pleasantries and superficial social niceties joining the two at the hip.
But there’s no time for too much reminiscing, not when your boyfriend is on his way back home and you quickly prepare yourself, donning a skimpy black fishnet lingerie set and a matching black collar with a silver heart in the front as you coyly situate yourself on your bed and patiently wait.
Your hand slips under your panties as the front door unlocks and you unabashedly moan as your fingers slowly circle and rub your clit, smirking at the way you can hear a muffled curse and footsteps quickening towards you in response. And when he finally appears in the doorway, you slip two fingers deep inside of you, letting your eyes roll back and your jaw drop open at the stretch.
You barely have time to grow accustomed to the digits inside of you before a cock is being crudely slapped and rubbed against your face and you can’t help the lewd whine of approval that escapes you as you deeply inhale the familiar musk, tongue instinctively lolling out in a desperate attempt to taste the delicious meal in front of you, fingers beginning to thrust in and out of your increasingly slick hole.
The only warning you have is a growl before his tip is making its way into your drooling mouth and you obediently let a hand grab you by the back of your head, unresisting as you’re ruthlessly shoved forward, your throat and mouth being forced to accept the hard length until your nose is brushing against the coarse hair of your boyfriend’s groin, the fullness and comfort of being filled on both ends only making you leak even more.
You don’t know how many times he’s had you in this exact position. All you know is that it’s been enough times that it feels right, feels perfect, feels amazing for your mouth and throat to be used as nothing more than a warm hole for him to use as his hips piston back and forth, cock plundering every inch of your orifice, pleasure coursing through you from being used so thoroughly, from adequately pleasuring your lover, his low grunts and groans going straight to the drenched hole between your legs, and you swear you could cum just like this.
But Kyoutani has other plans for the two of you and he sharply smacks your cheek with his saliva coated cock and warningly bares his fangs at you when you whine as he pulls out. You pout as you reluctantly stop playing with your leaking cunt, letting strong arms manhandle you into his preferred position, a wanton high-pitched keen coming out of you as you’re put on full display, hands pushing hard on the back of your thighs until you’re bent in half, shaped in a perfect mating press.
You feel so vulnerable, pussy walls clenching as the cool air hits the apex of your widely spread thighs. And you think that this must be what prey feels like before it’s devoured, breathing becoming shallow as arousal curls inside of you at the predatory gaze Kyoutani has you pinned down with as he licks his lips when he takes a moment to finally fully appreciate the little outfit you’ve put on for him, something dark gleaming in his eyes at the dark collar wrapped around your pretty little neck, marking you as his, practically salivating as his gaze continues down, noticing how your nipples obscenely peek out from between the fishnet material, registering just how little the thin open fabric does to cover your glistening pussy.
Patience has never been Kyoutani’s strong suit and although he’s managed to tone things down from his wild days as a second-year, leaving the nickname Mad Dog far behind him, some things don’t change and you squeal when your panties are being shoved to the side, Kyoutani not even having the patience to fully take them off before he’s plunging deep inside of you in one swift motion, almost immediately starting a brutal pace as he hammers in and out of you.
Your measly fingers pale in comparison to the way the cock inside of you forcefully stretches you apart and the position makes your mind go blank as he reaches places inside of you your fingers can never hope to touch. All you know is the way his fat cock drags against your walls, the way the spongy spot inside of you is constantly stimulated with every thrust, and all you can do is take, take, and take as you’re physically held in place by the man above you and inside of you, unable to even writhe, only able to toss your head back and forth in delirious rapture.
You can feel a familiar build-up growing inside of you, lust, desire, and arousal tangling together in an intoxicating and addicting cocktail and needy whimpers slip past your lips as one of your hands slip down between your legs, furiously rubbing your clit as you breathily tell your lover how close you are.
And how can Kyoutani not join you over the edge as you fall to pieces underneath him wailing his name, looking every bit like the epitome of debauchery as your neck arches and your face goes stupid in utter bliss, feeling like literal sin as your tight walls clench and milk him?
Something possessive and warm curls inside of him at the silly smile that stretches across your face as he buries himself one last time inside of you, thick white spurts filling you up, and he can’t help how he leans down to capture your lips intimately, savoring your taste before lightly nipping and tugging at your lower lip with his teeth as he pulls away, carefully repositioning both of you until you’re both side by side, lower bodies still connected as he tucks you under his chin and holds you close, letting you snuggle your head into his toned chest.
It’s tempting to just melt into his arms, get lost to the rhythmic beating of his heart, but as the pangs of pleasure begin to dull to a pleasant thrum, you think of dinner, laundry, cleaning, and you sigh as you try to wiggle your way out of the comforting hold, only to yelp when Kyoutani responds by pulling you back to him, squeezing you even tighter as he petulantly growls.
“Kentarou! We need to go wash up and then get dinner started. It’s not good for you to not eat anything after practice. You’re a professional athlete now! You have to take better care of your body.”
You snort when he reluctantly loosens his grip on you, laughing when his stomach rumbles and an embarrassed flush graces his cheeks. But you curiously look at him when a hand gently wraps around your wrist before you can fully escape the cozy warmth of the bed and his warm body.
“Don’t wash up.”
“That’s disgusting, Kentarou. You came inside of me!”
It’s your turn for your face to heat up at the smug smirk that plays across your boyfriend’s face as he greedily eyes the white trail beginning to make its way down your inner thigh before making eye contact with you once more.
“Don’t wash up.”
And you scowl at how pleased he looks as he strategically places himself behind you as he helps you prep in the kitchen, whipping your head and glaring at him as he doesn’t even bother hiding how transfixed he is as the white trail drips further and further down your leg, threatening to land on the kitchen floor.
“Happy? Now can I please go wash up? I’m pretty sure all of it leaked out by now- KENTAROU!”
You yelp as strong hands grab you by the waist, a strangled moan echoing throughout the space as a familiar hard object is suddenly splitting your lower lips apart once again.
“Kentarou, wh-what are you-”
“You said you were empty so I’m just fixing that.”
“That’s not what I meant-”
But any rebuttal you have gets lost in gasps and moans as you’re bent over the counter, blinding pleasure coursing through your body all over again as the man behind you wildly ruts in and out of you and you can’t bring yourself to care about what you had been trying to say or do as you let yourself drown in delirious arousal once again.
Dinner and chores will just have to wait.
#haikyuu smut#kyoutani x reader#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#haikyuu fic#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu scenarios#kyoutani kentarou#Kyoutani#haikyuu x reader
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“If you don’t knock it off, I’m going to home alone you.”
jungkook x reader (oc)
genre: fluff
word count: 1.4K
a/n: Ya know, sometimes I start these drabbles and I have no idea where I’m going with them and then all of a sudden they end and nothing happened except a little bit of banter and a little bit of cuteness, and that’s exactly what this is. I hope you all enjoy, lovelies, and thanks for reading! :))
Your squeals were muffled against Jungkook’s chest, any sounds that did slip past being stifled by the blanket he held over your head. The room was overflowing with his gleeful cackles as he enclosed his arms around your body, keeping you from moving much despite your thrashing around.
Desperately trying to escape him, you mustered up the strength to dig your fingers into the sides of his abdomen, the man’s defenses instantly falling as he squirmed on the sofa, his mischievous laughter turning into boyish giggles in a split second. Finally, you dug yourself out of the blanket, inhaling deeply as if you were breaking through the surface of a swimming pool.
Holding back your laughter but failing miserably as you looked up at him, Jungkook’s hands settled on your lower back as he directed his giggles to you, your hair full of static, a playful glare on your face.
“Oh, hi, baby,” he greeted cheerfully, you scoffing at his tone. “Where have you been?”
“Fuck you,” you chuckled, lightly slapping his chest, the man releasing an exaggerated grunt in feigned pain. “We’re still going out, you brat,” you informed him, Jungkook’s bambi eyes instantly widening pleadingly.
“Ok, but do we really have to?” He asked, you rolling your eyes.
“Yes, we have to,” you told him, sitting up as Jungkook watched you straddle his hips. Glaring down at him, he sighed. “You said we’d go out,” you reminded him. “We haven’t been on a date in a couple weeks, lemme take you out, baby,” you mimicked his words from the day before.
Breathing out slowly, he groaned slightly. “I’m so tired,” he complained. Cocking your head at him, you took in his lethargic appearance, realizing he really did look exhausted. Work had been busy with end of the year promotions and award shows and you knew he was running on empty at this point. You were just about to tell him you could stay in tonight before he opened his damn mouth again. “However, I could by un-tired if you wanna stay in and-” he gave you a smirk with a quirk of his eyebrow, the flirty expression making you scoff.
“If you don’t knock it off, I’m going to home alone you,” you told him in a monotone, the man’s smirk spreading into a pretty grin as he giggled lightly.
“Home alone me?” He questioned in amusement. “Like the movie?”
“Yeah,” you said as if it was obvious.
“Wait, does that mean you’re gonna break into this place and try to rob me?” He asked teasingly, making you hold back a laugh as you stared down at him with a glare. “Because this is your apartment,” he continued.
Your smile broke through a highly amused giggle slipping from between your lips as you shook your head at him. “I meant I’ll leave you at home and go have fun without you,” you told him through the chuckles you failed to conceal. “And you knew that.”
A bunny grin stretched across his lips as he reveled in his own antics. “Wouldn’t that be a reward though? I wouldn’t have to go out,” he explained to you, you huffing in response. “I think you need to rethink this, Holl,” he added, the shortening of your nickname making you grin fondly. It was a recent change to the name that you were quite enjoying.
“You and I both know if I walked out that door without you, you’d be following me not even five seconds later,” you pointed out, the man scoffing playfully.
“Not true,” he negated, averting his gaze from yours to hide his knowing smile.
“You’re obsessed with me, Kookie,” you patted his cheek, “it’s ok,” you nodded in assurance. The man pushed his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he failed to hold back a smile, his hand grabbing yours, his fingers curling over your own.
“You’ve gotten cocky,” he told you, you giggling as you watched him bring your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
“I’ve always been cocky,” you pointed out, Jungkook smirking at the comment.
“Sexy,” he teased. Returning his compliment with a wink, he giggled.
Leaning your side against the back of the sofa, you stared down at Jungkook as he yawned, the man’s eyes fluttering shut for a moment before opening them again, his gaze instantly meeting yours. He really was so tired; you couldn’t possibly make him follow through on his well-intentioned plans.
“Why are you pouting?” He asked suddenly, your eyes widening in surprise. Moving your hand that was held by his, you brought it to your mouth, checking your lips with the back of his hand. “I didn’t even realize,” you noted, Jungkook smiling as you continued to pat your pout with his hand.
“Cute,” he giggled. Exaggeratedly, you kissed the back of his hand, Jungkook beaming at you as you did so.
“You know, you’re a lot like Kevin now that I think about it,” you noted, Jungkook’s eyebrows scrunching up in confusion.
“Kevin?”
“Home Alone, Guk, keep up,” you teased, an ah of realization leaving Jungkook’s lips. “You’re both kind of brats,” you continued your comparison.
“Brats? What?” He asked in offense.
“Are you disagreeing with him being a brat?” You questioned. “Because I know you’re not claiming you are not a brat,” you grinned, Jungkook chuckling at the comment.
“How is Kevin a brat?” He asked, ignoring your playful insult. “He’s defending himself from robbers.”
“He’s a brat to his family,” you argued. “Also, why does he know so many booby-traps? It’s weird.”
Giggling at your sudden complaints against the fictional character of a 90s movie, Jungkook shook his head fondly at you. A moment of silence passed over you both, you sitting atop him as he stared up at you. Moving his arm for him so it rested against your thigh, you began tracing your free hand over his tattoos, the man’s eyelids growing heavy as he enjoyed your soothing touch.
Jungkook was undeniably endearing, and sleepy Jungkook was just all the more adorable. “Pretty,” you whispered as you traced over the ink, Jungkook’s eyes fighting to stay open as he watched you concentrate on the lines.
Suddenly, he breathed out as if he was hyping himself up. “Ok, date time,” he spoke, his free hand gently slapping the side of your thigh. “Let’s go,” he added though neither of you made a move to get up.
Giggling at him, you moved your hand out of his grasp as you stood up, the man preparing to follow. “No,” you pushed against his shoulder, Jungkook easily falling back against the couch cushions. “Just hang on a second, don’t move.”
His curious gaze trailed you as you exited the room for a moment, the man sitting up on his elbows as he awaited your return. When you appeared with an open laptop in your hands, he cocked his head at you.
“What are you doing?” He asked, you grinning at him without answering. Setting the laptop on the coffee table in front of you, you tapped the space bar before crawling back onto your boyfriend. He made light groans as you nestled yourself on top of his body though his arms easily slid around your waist as you nuzzled your face against his neck, Jungkook’s full attention on you as the title sequence of a film played on the screen. His gaze only lifted to the laptop when he suddenly recognized the music, an adorable small gasp leaving his lips.
“Home Alone?” He asked in surprise, you humming as you pressed your lips to neck.
“I’m going to prove to you that Kevin is indeed a brat, and that you are indeed Kevin,” you teased. Jungkook’s chuckle rumbled against his chest, the vibrations on your own body filling you with warmth and comfort.
He didn’t respond, but rather pressed his lips against the top of your head, wrapping his arms a little tighter around your waist. Jungkook knew you well enough to know you were allowing him time to rest at home without making him feel guilty for bailing on yours plans, just like you knew him well enough to know he would have taken you out that night even if he was sleepwalking down the street.
You also knew he would be asleep ten minutes into the film, but that was ok. Curled up with Jungkook was always going to be the superior date night anyway. Nothing else was needed, because, well, he was simply the best.
#jungkook#jeon jeongguk#jeon jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook x reader#jungkook x oc#jungkook drabble#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic#jungkook scenario#jungkook imagine#jungkook oneshot#jungkook blurb#bts#bts jungkook#bts fluff#bts x reader#bts x oc#bts drabble#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts scenario#bts imagine#bts oneshot#bts blurb#bts reaction#bts reactions#christmas fics#bts christmas
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MJF: "Take It" 18+
MJF x fem! reader
genre: smut/nsfw 18+, kinda fluff at end (meh)
warning: smut, 18+, angry sex, some edging and oral (male oral), foul language - also not proofread
summary: mjf is very angry after being humiliated by chris jericho. instead finding chris and beating him, he decides to take his anger out on his s/o sexually.
requested by: anonymous (I hope you enjoy!)
Masterlist
This is an 18+ imagine. If you're not 18+, please read at your discretion if you don’t intend on leaving this post. You’ve been warned. :)
Tag List: @cutierocker202
I think I got too carried away with this, oh well! I hope you all enjoy. I still have so many more smut requests to do - really got my work cut out for me lol!
You watched on the monitor as Chris and your boyfriend, Maxwell, spoke in the ring. They were going over Maxwell’s stipulations and what he wanted if he was going to face Chris. Everything was going well until Chris had gotten a cheap shot in on Maxwell. You gasped as Maxwell fell backwards, the smirk on Jericho making you fume up.
You knew Maxwell was going to be pissed and humiliated the moment he came backstage, so you made sure you were nearby to help him calm down. When Maxwell came backstage, he was red in the face and spewing profanities at everyone around him. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy how angry he was and how much it turned you on, but you couldn’t think about him sexually right now, not when he was about to kill someone.
“Max, baby, you need to breathe. Jericho is an old piece of shit that’s nearing his death bed. You’ll have your chance to get back at him soon.” You tried your best to relax him with your words, but he wasn’t having it. Maxwell rolled his eyes at what you said, shaking his head as he laughed.
“My god Y/N, you’d be a terrible therapist. Don’t ever think of changing professions, you’re good at and good for nothing else. You know what you’re good for? Good for bending over, so don’t think you can tell me how to feel about what just happened to me. In fact,” Maxwell stopped speaking as he grabbed your arm and dragged you to The Pinnacle locker room, not caring who saw him. “How about you make me feel better the only way you know how that you won’t fuck up?”
This was a new side of Maxwell you were seeing. Sure, you two have had makeup sex, rough sex, slow love-making sex, but sex with an angry Max? You had a feeling that this would still hurt you in the morning.
Maxwell shut the door and locked it behind the two of you, walking over the couch and sitting down. His legs spread open as he looked over at you with intent, eyes full of fire. “Well, whore? Do you really want to keep me, of all people, waiting?”
You scrambled over to where he sat, getting on your knees in the open space between his legs. Unbuckling his belt, you inched up and tried your best to not eagerly pull down his pants. You licked your lips as his member sprang up, almost as if it was happy to see you. Maxwell grabbed his cock with his right hand, jerking it slightly before smacking each side of your cheeks with it.
“Suck me off.” He commanded, laying back onto the couch with one arm on the arm rest and the other laying on the top side of the couch. You took just the tip into your mouth at first, Maxwell was big and he took pride in his length. He knew that you wouldn’t be able to put all of him in your mouth, but if you didn’t try he wasn’t going to let you hear the end of it.
Your tongue swirled over his tip as your head bobbed down to the middle of his shaft. You continued your head bobbing motions, your lips wrapping tightly around his length. Your mouth began to make suction noises and as the amount of spit on his member grew, you grabbed the remaining left that couldn’t fit in your mouth and began to jerk it as you gave him head.
Maxwell smacked your hand away though and gripped your hair, making you pull forward and take more of him in you, “Don’t think for a second that you’re gonna get away with not putting me in your mouth entirely. Be a good whore and take it, take it all.”
You had to prepare yourself mentally before doing so, but Maxwell didn’t give you any time. He was running out of patience and decided to take matters into his own hands, grabbing the sides of your head with both hands and pushing it down. Your gag reflex had activated as his cock was practically down your throat at this point. Maxwell groaned profanities and buckled his hips as he thrusted into your mouth, a smirk that refused to leave on his lips.
Maxwell removed his length from your mouth, not before tapping it on your tongue. The trail of spit from your mouth all the way to the end of his shaft was a sight to see, one of the best, and it only made him harder. Maxwell grabbed your chin, taking it in between his thumb and index finger as he looked into your eyes. “Take those fucking pants off. I wanna fuck you all night until I’m no longer angry.”
You got up immediately and obeyed, your underwear was soaked and you couldn’t wait for Maxwell to touch you where you desperately needed it. He pulled you on top of him and a moaning gasp came out of you as your folds came in contact with his tip. Maxwell slid his tip through your folds over and over again, looking at you as he teased you.
He slid into your pussy, being courteous enough to give you time to adjust but not for long as he wrapped both arms around your lower back and pulled you towards him as he began to drill you from below. His thrusts were fast and hard, calculated almost, as your skin clapped together. You whined and moaned, your clit being stimulated from rubbing against his pubic area.
Maxwell kept his momentum, your juices flowing all over his shaft and down to his balls. He grunted and groaned, taking your hair into his hands in a tight grip. He pulled you in for a kiss and god, was it a nasty one. Your lips connecting together, so wet and sloppy, your tongue flicking against each other as he nibbled on it before pulling away. The hand that held your hair released it’s grip, moving down to your ass and releasing hard strikes that were sure to leave a mark on it. “Look at you whore, losing your mind over this cock, wetting this nice leather couch like the dirty girl you are.”
You nodded in response, your lips parting as more moans continued to escape. You were close to your breaking point, but Maxwell had other plans. He hoisted you off of him and stood up, pushing you into the couch, positioning you into doggy. Maxwell slammed into you, making you yell out in bliss, before pulling out. He would thrust into you with power then pull out, doing this a few times before slamming into you again and gripping your hips tightly.
“You’re so tight, so wet. It’s a shame that no one else will ever get to experience you like I do. And it’s too fucking bad that they don’t know you like to be humiliated, just like how I was out there.” He spat out, his grunts getting significantly louder and it was clear that Maxwell didn’t give a shit who heard you two. His hands moved down to your ass, gripping it and slapping it. Maxwell slapped it over and over again, each slap more powerful and harder than the last. “Oh Y/N, if only you could see how red you are. I bet you’d enjoy it like the whore you are. Wouldn’t you?”
“Yes Maxwell, I would,” You cried out, the stinging sensation only pulling you closer to the edge. You were going to cum soon and you knew it, that feeling in the pit of your stomach. “Oh Max baby, I’m gonna cum. Will you let me cum?”
Maxwell cackled almost maniacally, “Now why the hell would I let you cum right now? You don’t deserve to cum just yet.” His length slid in and out of you harder as he got more deeper, the wetness making sloshing sounds that filled the both of your ears.
Maxwell was on his way to releasing and he didn’t stop his powerful thrusts yet. He hunched over you as he continued to thrust, his member now hitting you deeper and deeper. He could feel his cock swelling with each thrust and grunted, the sweat beading at his forehead beginning to trickle down. You on the other hand were a mess; you wanted to cum so bad and were so close to disobeying Maxwell, just to feel that sweet release.
Maxwell was thinking of you though and reached his right hand over you, his fingers rubbing your clit and pinching your bud. His fingers played with your clit sloppily as you gripped onto the couch and laid your head on it, biting your lip. “Cum for me, whore.” He uttered, his fingers not leaving your bud.
You cried out as you came on his member, his thrust not faulting as he continued to slam into you deeply and harder. Maxwell lived for breaking you down, so his fingers still kept on rubbing your clit as he kept on thrusting. His hips crashing into your ass harder each other, you were sure the both of you were going to be so sore the next day.
Maxwell’s hands transitioned onto your shoulders as he pounded you for the last few times, his sweet seed ready to fill you any minute now. “Y/N, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fill that pretty pussy up with my cum.” He groaned, his cock twitching as he began to cum and ooze into you.
The grip on your shoulders tightened as Maxwell released his load into you, he even moaned at the sensitive sensation it left him as he was still inside of you. He pulled out and laid beside you, not bothering to clean up yet. Like clockwork, the softy side of Maxwell came out and he pulled you close to him, kissing you on the forehead.
“Was I too rough on you?” He asked, heavily breathing. You shook your head, in fact you actually enjoyed this version of Maxwell and wanted to see more of him in bed, but it was nice to see the sweetheart in him again.
“No, I’m okay. You’re not mad anymore and I’m a happy girl that just got the shit fucked out of me. So, we’re even.” You shrugged, laying your head onto his chest as you two shared a laugh.
“Let’s go freshen up, okay? I’m gonna take care of you now.”
#maxwell jacob friedman#mjf#maxwell jacob friedman headcanon#maxwell jacob friedman imagine#mjf headcanon#mjf imagine#aew#aew mjf#aew headcanon#aew imagine
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When Dusk Begins
Part four
Warnings: none yet but there will be smut in upcoming chapters. This ones short but there are some good moments with Ahk.
SERIES MASTERLIST
“Father don’t you think that next week is too soon?” Ahkmenrah spoke sternly, as his father walked briskly around his chambers.
“Nonsense my son! You’ve finally chosen your wife. Your Setepa-i. There’s no time to waste! We’ve already made a match for your sister after you voiced your choice.” His father sat down and began to scribe his to his brother. Ahk walked closer
“Kahmunrah is going to stay with Abasi?” Ahkmen asked with a frown. His father sighed.
“Your brother, has been displaying signs of... he’s been displaying dangerous tendencies. Not to himself but to others around him. Your mother and I thought it best if we sent him to your uncle, give him responsibilities, see if he can change his ways and ascend the throne with good intentions.” He took a deep breath turning to his youngest son. His features softened.
“You don’t know how happy it made me to hear your decision. I fell in love with your mother when she was just a musician here in the palace. My father looked down on Setepa-i. My decision to not marry my sister had outraged him, but he died before he could force that choice on me.” He placed his hand on his sons cheek with a slight smile; his eyes serious.
“You’re making the same choice I made, to choose what you want! What every king should do. I’m proud of you son.” He walked away, back to writing. By this point Ahkmenrah had forgotten about trying to persuade him to move the date of the wedding. He hadn’t seen his father in so long that just to hear those words made him happier than he’d ever been.
He headed back to his chambers with a smile. You noticed it, and perked up hoping that his father had changed his mind. You sat on his bed, hands grasped together.
“So it went well?” You asked excitedly. Ahkmen snapped out of his happy trance and gazed at you. Sat on his bed, cris-cross. He couldn’t help but let his smile grow at the sight.
“It did?” You raised your eyebrows, he sighed talking the steps to get to his bed.
“No.” Ahk sat down beside you.
“What?! Then what are we gonna do!” He placed his hands on your upper arms and rubbed them in a calming manner.
“It will be okay. We just have to find a way out of here before the wedding. We have a week.” His face was so hopeful, enticing you to feel the same.
You nodded, your worrying expression still stayed on your face. Ahk frowned pulling you into his embrace. He held you rocking slightly. The smell of him, the warmth, all of it made your head fuzzy. As if by instinct your eyes fluttered shut. Your arms slid around his waist tightening when his fingers began to rake through your hair.
A knock interrupted your perfect moment. However Ahk didn’t let go, gripping you tighter ignoring the knock; just wanting to sooth your worries.
“Your majesty, The Queen wishes to see you.” A voice sounded from the door. You sighed and pulled away much to Ahk’s disappointment.
“Let’s just get whatever this is over with. It can’t get any worse.” You huffed. Standing up, brushing your dress off and walking out the door. Leaving Ahkmenrah to follow you.
“Greetings to you.” His mother grinned. “Oh you look too perfect together.” She began to go on about the wedding preparations. You zoned out for a moment only to blink back to reality at the sound of consummation.
“And you’ll spend your consummation month in the Temple of Horus. The palace is being readied for you as we speak.” Your grip on Ahk’s hand tightened at the word consummation.
He gazed at you with a sympathetic look. He understood how hard this must be for you. He used to live here, understood the culture and the social etiquette. He felt bad, you were always so tense whenever you left his room; you stopped being yourself and so far he hated it.
“Mother, I’m going to take Setepa-i to the gardens for a stroll.” Ahkmenrah said not waiting for an answer before dragging you away.
“Setepa-i?” You questioned once you were both alone.
“It means ‘My Chosen’. Surely you knew that Miss. Egypt expert.” You blushed at the nickname he had used for you.
“I’d never heard it. Or read it anywhere.” You mumbled looking away from him to hide your darkened cheeks.
“My father uses it for my mother. And his father used it for his Queen.” He smiled at the thought. His brows pulled together as he glanced at you, stopping his footsteps. You looked at him expectantly waiting for him to tell you why you stopped. He reached up, the back of his knuckles graced over your cheek. You watched as the corner of his lips turned up slightly.
His thumb traced the top of your lips, over your Cupid’s bow. Round and down onto your bottom lip. His own lips parted as his thumb stroked against the pink skin. You felt your body relax massively, almost slumping back against the pillar nearest to you. You hadn’t even noticed the arm that was around your waist. Ahk’s large hand against your back pressing you closer to him.
His thumb pushed forward faintly wetting the end of it, he smoothed the wetness over your lip. You couldn’t help yourself as your eyelashes fluttered shut. His thumb now massaging your bottom lip, your head tilted back slightly. A small gasp escaped your mouth as his plump lips pressed against your cheek. So, so close to your mouth.
You tried tilting your head to the side to meet his own kisser, but he pulled away before you could. Quickly turning to the side almost sensing the interruption before it happened.
“Your highness.” A man bowed before scurrying away. Materials clenched in his grip. Ahkmenrah cleared his throat grabbing your hand and walking to the gardens.
You studied the flowers, the gorgeous plants varied in shape, size and colour. They were so well looked after considering that just outside was a desert. You bent down to smell a sweet white rose. You frowned slightly, standing up and turning to Ahk with a new worrying question.
“Ahk?” Your voice rang through the room and he answered without thinking.
“Yes Setepa-i?” You blushed deeply, as did he once he registered the words that came from him. Ignoring the sudden awkward air you asked anyway.
“Where’s your tablet?”
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chapter iv
pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
summary: the internet is enamored with the idea of y/n l/n and bakugou katsuki, two renowned pro heroes, dating. the first issue? the pair rarely interacts. the second issue? apparently, they hate each other, not that anyone knows about that bit. of course, after one night of many mistakes, the whole world knows.
warnings: mentions of blood. violence. injuries. cursing.
word count: 2k
[series masterlist] [wattpad] [ao3]
THIS HAS TO BE A DREAM. Y/N really doesn’t want to be dealing with this right now, this is literally the last thing she wants to be dealing with right now. She has half the mind to just disappear into the shadows using Telen’s quirk, seeing as she hadn’t returned it yet.
‘Returned’ probably isn’t the best way to put it, after all he can still use his quirk but… she’s never really had a different way to explain it. But, Y/N is capable of using his quirk until she’s returned it to him, meaning his pain is hers and so is his quirk for the time being. Not that it matters right now, because she’s currently staring down Bakugou, who looks just as shocked as she does.
“What are you doing here?” She finally asks, scowling.
In response, Bakugou is rolling his eyes, allowing the door to shut behind him. “You don’t own this café,” he grumbles out.
That was actually incorrect, Y/N had bought the set of buildings on this street to make sure that the café wouldn’t go out of business, she was sentimental in that manner Meaning she technically had authorization to kick him out, something Bakugou seems to catch onto as his eyes narrow at her, “of course you do.”
Y/N scoffs, looking away from him, “only legally. I have too much respect for Rosalyn to tell her what to do with her business.” She waves him off, “they’re getting something from the back, you’ll have to wait.” Y/N finds that she’s wishing she had a little bit less respect for Rosalyn, because maybe then she would have the guts to kick Bakugou out.
Bakugou says nothing, simply eyeing Y/N as he moves to grab a bag of chips from the stand, awkwardly standing by the cash register he waited for them to return. Of course, Y/N had a feeling they wouldn’t be returning anytime soon at this point. She wouldn’t be shocked if Lily had done something to make this happen, all to torture Y/N.
Although Lorelai might consider this the perfect time to apologize, Y/N finds it her personal hell. And she’s fairly sure Bakugou has the same sentiments as she begins to tap her foot rhythmically against the floor. The space is silent aside from that, and Y/N almost wishes a stranger would come in and end her misery.
A sudden pain courses through her, and Y/N’s brows furrow as her mouth gapes open slightly, hand coming to her stomach, though her thoughts are interrupted as Bakugou snaps, “could you quit tapping your damn foot?”
And Y/N does stop, but not because he asked, instead to say, “you can always leave.” There’s a sarcastic smile on her face as she glances at him, preparing to continue tapping her foot despite the throbbing that had appeared in her leg as well.
If Y/N had to guess, something had happened to Telen. But that wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary in hero work, and given how high profile Hawks’ agency was, they had a healer on call. She had no doubt that whatever injury he’d somehow sustained, he would be fine. And yet, Y/N can’t help the frown that washes over her, a certain fear and anxiety that definitely doesn’t belong to her suddenly drowning her senses.
Y/N is about to make a phone call when she hears Bakugou, “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
She’s about to make some sort of witty comment in response, only to see that he’s looking outside, where the presence of paparazzi has become apparent. Though they hadn’t started their mobs yet, any trained Pro Hero was well aware when they were being followed. Despite attempts to hide, Y/N could easily see that there were several people hidden throughout the area, trying to catch pictures of the famed Y/N L/N and Bakugou Katsuki together.
They were probably hoping the pair would start arguing, maybe even get into a physical fight knowing Bakugou. Though, if that did happen, Y/N was fairly sure Lorelai would have her head.
That and the fact that the shippers on Twitter were going to love this. But Y/N certainly wasn’t, scoffing as she came to a stand, “did they follow you here?” Her tone is accusatory, she knows that. But if Y/N is honest, she has no shame being upfront about her emotions with Bakugou, not anymore.
He glares at her once more in response, placing his order down more roughly than necessary, “obviously not. If anything it was you they followed here.”
Y/N comes to a stand, inhaling deeply as she reminds herself that she and Bakugou are currently the stars of the show that is the media. Everyone who's anyone, and anybody that’s a nobody wants to bear witness to their interactions if it means advancing their career. And Y/N has no intent of further damaging her reputation, or giving the media the easy way out.
Though she wouldn’t mind putting an additional dent in Bakugou’s already horrid reputation, there were bigger things than that. And at the end of the day, they were stuck together for the time being, until things died down that is.
So, Y/N finds herself heading over to the counter with her items in hand– discarding them behind the register to make sure that Lily would hold onto them for her— before looking to Bakugou, “we need to leave, now.”
Bakugou is frowning, eyes falling on his order, but he simply nods as he returns his gaze to Y/N, “and how do you suppose we do that?”
While she’s grateful he elected not to argue— probably because he’s well-aware of his own dwindling reputation and wants to salvage whatever he can, like the selfish bastard he is— Y/N finds herself narrowing her eyes at him, simply turning around and gesturing for him to follow her, “come with me.”
“What, we can’t just go out the front door?”
She’s not shocked by his proposition, though Y/N is also aware that Bakugou isn’t a fool. He may be impulsive at times, and extremely confrontational to a fault, but he was not an idiot. Even if he seemed to be just some annoying brute.
Y/N glances back at Bakugou, looking to him incredulously, “the moment we step outside, we will be bombarded with questions.” A bitter laugh escapes her, “and we both know how you’ll probably respond to that.”
“Oh so this is my fault?” He asks, taking a few steps closer.
Bringing a hand to her temple, Y/N looks up to him, “we don’t have time for this.” Comes her response, “either you come with me, or I leave without you.”
With that, Y/N turns on her heel, hand shoved into her pocket as she pulls out a set of keys and begins to flip through them in search of the right one. She can feel Bakugou’s eyes on her as she finally finds the right key, the one that leads to the hallway behind the second staff door. Most people don't have access because if you take a wrong turn you’ll end up in the studio apartment of the owners. But, if you continue down the hallway, there’s an exit into the alleyway that Y/N intended to take.
Finally, she pushes the door open. Y/N doesn’t bother to look back as she steps inside the hallway, dimly lit, in fact some of the lights are even flickering. But she can see the bright red ‘EXIT’ sign not too far away.
Y/N doesn’t hear the door click shut, and with a sigh she turns back to see Bakugou had planted his foot in the door, kicking it open while his hands remained shoved into his pockets. Wordlessly, he stepped inside, and Y/N simply returned her gaze to the exit.
Until another spike of pain coursed through her. Her steps falter, though Y/N manages to catch herself on the wall, hand planted firmly there as she inhales deeply.
To be fair, the average person would’ve passed out from the pain by now, and Y/N didn’t have her hero suit to help cushion the blows of pain nor was she necessarily prepared for sudden pain— she wasn’t in battle. Though her pain tolerance is high enough that it's manageable.
Bakugou seems to notice, no— he definitely notices. Looking to her pensively as he pauses behind her, Y/N doesn’t want to meet his eyes as she huffs, pushing off the wall. “Let’s go.”
He says nothing, and Y/N is grateful as they continue down the hall.
It’s a short walk to the actual exit, but Y/N’s head is pounding so she doesn’t really notice anything out of the ordinary until Bakugou’s arm comes to stop her. She bumps into it, frowning as she looks up to him ready to speak in protest, to yell at him for touching her— though there's no skin to skin contact so she doesn’t really have much to worry about yet.
Until she realizes blood is coming from under the door. Evidently, she had a lot to worry about.
Y/N looks up to Bakugou, offering him a nod that he returns. A silent communication between the pair which brings Bakugou to press his separate hand against the door, brows drawing together before he rapidly pushes the door open and the pair steps out into the alley.
And there lies the body of Pro Hero Telen. Y/N recognizes him instantly, and it makes sense given how badly her body is throbbing with pain.
Her mouth gapes open, but Y/N is no fool as her back meets Bakugou’s, each of them surveying the area for the hero’s attacker.
But there’s no one to be found.
Y/N looks back to Bakugou, who simply nods, prompting Y/N to drop to her knees despite the blood that begins to seep through her clothes. Eyes falling on Telen as a hand comes to his chest. Nobody has ever died while Y/N was using their power, and if Y/N had to guess, Telen was still alive. There was no need for her to check for a pulse, simple as that.
“He’s alive. Call for backup.”
When Bakugou doesn’t reply, Y/N turns, and she can see the explosions sparking in his palms but there are no enemies nearby. But Y/N recognizes the look on his face, the frustration, the anger. But he’s not angry with anyone other than himself right now.
“Bakugou.” She repeats, an attempt to pull him out of his thoughts. They don’t have time to be distracted right now. While the attacker clearly isn’t around right now, there was a possibility he’d return. Not that Y/N was too worried, if they had any sense of bloodlust, she’d notice them.
He inhales sharply, simply nodding stiffly once more before pulling out his phone. But all Bakugou can think about is the fact that the Stain Copycat was here, and they’d targeted a member of Hawks’ Agency. The Number 2 Hero. Which meant whoever it was, they were getting bolder, and even worse, two of the best upcoming Pro Heroes were just next door and they hadn’t even noticed.
Even if the new Hero Killer had failed to finish the job, it didn’t matter. This would be a sign to all. A bad one. A message even. It felt as though this copycat was mocking him with every move.
The only thing that Y/N can think about, is how dark this alley is, how easy it should’ve been for Telen to escape from his attacker. Which can only mean one of two things, the perpetrator had done something to prevent Telen from escaping into the shadows. Or, it was someone he trusted enough that he hadn’t felt the need to. Not until it was too late, that is.
This was a problem. A big problem.
note: short but eventful chapter? and look at me go, updating on an actual schedule thats a first!
#this is not the end series#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki x you#bakugo katsuki x you#katsuki x you#bakugo x you#bakugou x you#katsuki bakugou x you#katsuki bakugo x you#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bnha x you#mha x you#bakugou katsuki series
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Drained
Dreamcatcher SuA x Male Reader
2246 words
categories: smut, rope bondage, mommy kink, femdom
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masterlist
Over the past few weeks I’ve tried to slowly get back into writing, but finding I don’t have much interest in it still. I’m not sure if the spark I had for writing will ever come back, but I wrote this in the brief time I was inspired.
This was supposed to be a two-parter, but I lost motivation in finishing the second part so I decided to post the first part. It’s possible this is the last thing I write, so I wanted to write something that featured all of my favorite things.
Just like there are two sides to a coin, there are often two different sides to a person. Kim Bora was no different. One side was the sweet, loving girlfriend who you loved spending romantic evenings together cuddled up on the couch. The other was a lust-filled vixen, clouded by a strong need to be in control and have everything she desired.
You loved both sides, and just like a coin flip you weren’t sure which side you were going to get.
On this night, Kim Bora had you just where she wanted.
It wasn’t the first time you had found yourself in such a familiar situation. The all too familiar, almost routine act of thick dark rope wrapped around each of your wrists that Bora expertly tied to the bed the same way she had done dozens of times before.
If that wasn’t enough you were stripped of your clothes, your shirt ripped and disposed of as if it were tissue paper, pants finding a similar fate as you were left in nothing but your boxers. You couldn’t help but form a bulge through the cotton of your underwear at the fact that you were under Bora’s control.
You lost track of time, you could have been there for five minutes or five hours. Bora was a master of teasing, keeping your restricted cock nestled in its prison knowing it desperately needed to be freed and refused to give in.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Bora said, flashing a devilish smirk on her lips as she cupped your face, bringing her lips to yours for a brief moment before pulling away before you could have any satisfaction.
“And what are you going to do with me, Bora?”
“Bora? You know better than that, it’s mommy to you now,” she said as she delivered a hard slap to your cheek, causing it to sting right away. Her eyes glared deeply at you as you felt a mixture of fear and arousal.
“I’m going to ruin you. You’re going to be mommy’s little fucktoy for me to tease and play with for the next few hours,” Bora said as she bit her lip and licked the side of your neck.
Bora smirked wider and leaned back, letting you see the perfect view of her amazing body in the lacy black lingerie she had chosen that sent blood to your loins.
She tested you right away as her hands ran her hands all over her tight body, squeezing her covered supple breasts and knowing you were desperate to do the same to her.
Each and every move was carefully made as Bora’s thighs wrapped around your waist as she traced your chest with one finger, drawing her name into your bare skin as she looked deep into your eyes.
“This is going to be fun. Let's see how fast mommy can drain you.”
Bora moved quickly as a cat, and before you could take your next breath your boxers were stripped off and your shaft was freed, throbbing as it was exposed to the cool air.
"Hard as a fucking rock. Are you that turned on for mommy?” Bora asked as her slim fingers wrapped tightly around your needy cock and she gave a firm squeeze, touching your bare cock for the first time of the night. You could only moan in response.
Bora gave a handful of painfully slow strokes, rubbing the underside of your swollen tip with her thumb before she released your throbbing shaft, causing a whine to involuntarily escape from your lips. She licked your tip once, gathering the plentiful precum around your slit as your hips bucked.
Bora looked up with evil intentions in her eyes, slowly swirling around your cockhead and giving a quick peck on your tip. Bora didn’t give in one bit as she rubbed that sensitive area of your cock with her thumb again that drove you crazy, giving several slow licks before withdrawing completely as she gave one more kiss.
"That's all you get for now, baby. You need to earn this."
Bora got off on control, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't equally as turned on at being stripped naked and tied up at her mercy.
You waited with deep anticipation for Bora's next move as you felt small delicate hands caressing your bare thighs and nails digging into your skin as you laid there helplessly. Bora kissed the tip of your cock, unwillingly to do anything else as she blew hot breath against your sensitive balls, causing a shiver to shoot up your spine.
“Such a needy boy, aren’t you, baby? You want mommy to suck this hard throbbing cock don’t you?”
“Y-yes, mommy. P-please.”
“Are you begging already? Need my pretty lips wrapped around your shaft that bad?” Bora asked, as she let out an evil laugh, kissing each of your thighs deeply enough to leave her lipstick imprinted on your skin.
“Well, it doesn’t matter what you want. Your cock belongs to mommy tonight.”
Bora kept her gaze on you, biting her lip deeply again as you waited for her next torturous step, always keeping you guessing. With one hand she grabbed your stiff cock, squeezing it hard as she slid her panties to the side with the other. You let out a deep breath at the sight of Bora’s exposed pussy, moaning softly as she rubbed your needy tip against her wet pink flesh as you felt the slickness of her hole already.
“Fuck, I’m so wet already. I’m going to use you, and I won’t stop until I’m satisfied.”
Bora didn’t give you much of a chance to prepare as she lifted her hips, lined herself up with your cock and impaled herself to the hilt, letting out a loud moan that was louder than expected.
“Baby...fuck,” Bora moaned as she began to move, rocking her hips back and forth. She braced her hands on your chest, keeping her eyes locked on you as you felt her tight walls clenching around your cock.
“Ride my cock, mommy,” you said, moaning at the pleasure that was filling up your body. Bora glared and slapped your cheek again, a loud smack echoing as you felt an even harsher sting.
“Shut the fuck up, don’t tell mommy what to do. You’re just a toy for me to cum on, understand?”
“Y-yes, mommy.”
You groaned loudly, cursing the restraints that stopped your wrists in place. You wanted nothing but to touch Bora’s body and run your hands all over her soft bare skin. Bora sensed your frustrations.
“You want to touch mommy so badly don’t you?” Bora asked, lips curling into a devilish smile that you had seen many times.
“It’s too bad you can’t,” Bora said, giving another harsh slap to your cheek.”You’re just going to lie there while I use you.”
You certainly weren’t going to complain about that. Bora began to ride you as she finished her sentence, finding a rhythm as her hips rose and slammed down harshly. You felt extreme tightness squeezing your cock as Bora bounced on your cock. Every movement of her wide hips created more wetness as she impaled herself repeatedly on your shaft, moaning with every movement.
“You like that baby? You like when mommy uses your cock? ” Bora asked as she upped her pace, slamming her thick thighs against your own.
“Y-yes, mommy. I love when you fuck me like this.”
“Good, baby, mommy loves it too. You’re doing so well for me, I’ll give you a little reward,” Bora said, pulling her bra down enough to expose her full round breasts. You were hypnotized by the way they bounced beautifully, trying to focus on them instead of the tightness and wetness hugging your cock that was driving you insane.
“Your cock feels so fucking good inside me, baby. I’m going to ride you until you can’t take anymore,” Bora said as she repeatedly slammed her wet pussy on your cock, not caring if she was hurting you. The bed creaked loudly with every bounce, matching the volume of her loud moans as you felt even more wetness drenching your shaft.
“Fuck, baby, mommy is going to cum soon,” Bora moaned, as she wrapped one hand around your throat, squeezing with a firm pressure that restricted your airflow. You could only watch as she rode you mercilessly, her breasts bouncing up and down as her eyes filled with lust and only was interested in her own pleasure.
Bora rode you even much harder, bouncing her ass on your crotch and impaling herself repeatedly on your cock as she threw her head back, keeping her mouth agape as she neared her peak. You clenched your teeth as you could feel your own climax sneaking up on you, trying your best to hold out to at least let Bora finish first, knowing the consequences would be dire if you didn’t.
The small hand around your throat squeezed tighter while Bora’s hips never stopped moving, taking you deep in and out of her tight wet cunt as chased her release. Moans and the squelch of Bora’s wetness filled your ears as your bodies combined and the loud sounds of hot flesh on flesh filled the room. It took little time at all as you felt the tight walls around your needy cock pulsating, signaling Bora’s limits had been reached.
“Baby, I’m cumming!” Bora cried out as she slammed herself on your cock as hard as possible, instantly feeling more wetness dripping down her thighs as she came hard. You watched as her eyes closed shut for a moment as her juices drowned your cock with slick more as her delicious thighs trembled violently around your body, her toes curled as she screamed out in pleasure.
You wanted nothing but to guide her, to hold on to her perfect hips and take you as deep as possible but you were at her mercy. Bora didn’t let up as she selfishly came a second time, the intense tightness surrounding yourself queuing up your own orgasm and you nothing could prevent you giving in.
“M-mommy, I’m going to cum too,” you desperately moaned out. Bora slowly moved her hips, grinding out every ounce of pleasure before her eyes opened, filled with desire and wanting even more.
“Do think you deserve that, baby?” Bora asked, the tone of her voice considerably softer and quieter. You kept quiet as she rode out her climax, trying to anchor herself on your chest carefully as her nails sharply clawed at your skin.
“Answer me, baby,” Bora said, as you expected another slap and could only give a nervous nod as she smiled widely in return.
“You do deserve it baby. You made me feel good with that cock, so I’m going to return the favor. You’re going to cum inside mommy.”
There wasn’t much you could do either way, not that you ever would have rejected her demands. Bora returned to her ruthless pace as she rode your cock until you felt that tightness in your stomach that meant only one thing.
“Cum for mommy, right now. Fill me up,” Bora demanded, as you could only focus on her tight body and the bare skin your eyes roamed, her breasts bouncing with every movement and equal amounts of loud lustful moans.
“M-mommy...I’m going to-”
Unable to finish your sentence Bora had every intent on draining you as promised, rendering you powerless to hold out any longer as your cock throbbed inside Bora’s tight pussy and you began sending thick hot semen inside her, emptying everything you had deep into her womb.
“That’s a good boy,” Bora said, continuing to milk your cock dry with her tight cunt. She always knew when you had finished, but she wasn’t ready to end things as she kept on riding you with her pussy filled with your thick warmth, causing your quivering body to cry out in protest.
“M-mommy, please s-stop, I can’t take it,” you said, and were immediately met with a slap across your other cheek.
“What did I say about telling me what to do?” Bora said, backhanding you one more time. “I told you I was going to ride you until you couldn’t take it.”
The mixture of painful pleasure was too much to take, and you could only lie there incapable of doing anything but being used by Bora as she kept riding your sensitive cock for what felt like hours until mercifully winding down her motion little by little.
“Had enough?” Bora asked as her mood changed and she smiled sweetly, returning back to her usual self.
“Y-yes, mommy.”
“Good, you did well,” Bora said and slowly began to lift her hips, letting your cock plop out of her as your load dripped down her thighs and down onto your crotch. Bora took the opportunity to clean off what she could, lips attacking your shaft for the first time as you whined as you felt her lips go deep, pulling against your restraints and gritting your teeth.
“All empty,” Bora said as she gave your balls a gentle squeeze and removed the ropes from your wrist, checking for any marks as your circulation slowly began returning.
“You can rest for ten minutes, then mommy will be back for round two. If you can make it, then tomorrow will be a special surprise.”
“Surprise?”
“Yes, I think you’ll enjoy it.“
#dreamcatcher smut#kpop smut#sua smut#dreamcatcher#sua#reader insert#male reader#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction
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(helping the self through another- recollected sorrows rest upon those who got out, who survived.)
(cw: vague references to Caleb’s backstory)
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A forceful series of knocks reaches all the way to Caleb’s bedchamber and he is suddenly very awake, hazily pleasant dreams shattered.
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This is strange, entirely abnormal.
Frightening, almost.
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Without much thought, he rises and throws on a robe, passing through door and door to the final one.
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He opens this third door, the one out to the rest of the tower, to find its only other current resident at his threshold, eye-to-eye.
The height is unsurprising given Essek’s favored locomotion.
.
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But Caleb has never seen Essek like this.
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A deeply haunted, half-present look in his red-rimmed eyes, his ears entirely away, followed by disheveled hair and rumpled clothing, an entire deconstruction of his usual well kept presentation. Arms crossed and clinging to his sides, clenched against the fabric there.
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He’s shivering.
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It’s concerning.
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Concerning enough to call forth a faint echo of a cold, cold tower, a lingering memory of a warm, warm dorm room, and Caleb’s forearms itch at the involuntary recall, despite how weak he’s managed it to be.
But he keeps his hands away. Takes some breaths to stave off slight nausea.
This can’t be that. It’s not. This is different, Caleb knows. He knows.
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But that look. And why is Essek shaking?
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Caleb’s words escape as a hiss wrapped in worry.
“Essek, what is wr-?”
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But dismay jolts his voice to a stop when Essek immediately glides even closer - very close - and raises a trembling hand to Caleb’s throat, wordless with shallow breaths, eyes narrowed, a slightly unfocused scowl pulling at his pretty lips and drawing his brows together.
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Caleb dare not move in this moment, dare not swallow or breathe too deep, dare not react to this uncharacteristically bold motion because there is no hunger in Essek’s shining, panicked eyes, and atrophied habit carries no follow-up without it present.
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Essek’s cold fingertips - is he actually cold or is this only further remembrance? - find that particularly vulnerable soft spot between jaw and neck and press gently, firmly, likely just enough to feel Caleb’s rapidly beating pulse.
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Ah, that’s what this is.
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Caleb dare not move, dare not scare Essek from this oddly executed assurance, this check he must be making with those intent eyes of now-dripping violet as they shift to bore into Caleb’s chest.
Right where Essek palpates cautious fingers against clothed scar tissue.
Right above the residence of Caleb’s hammering heart.
.
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After an unbearably tense second or century, Essek’s face, his entire form, seems to crumple small as he lets out a shaky breath, hands tightening against Caleb’s robe, head bowed and tears now unseen.
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Caleb dips his head, trying to catch Essek’s eyes.
“I’m alive.”
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Essek looks away further, nods, and his breathing stutters into rough sniffles as he releases Caleb’s robe, voice watery.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Hands still raised and now directionless, Essek’s tensed fingers fidget with themselves, thumbnail sides pinched by fingertips, before swiping at his eyes, as if his teardrops are frivolous things to be plucked and crushed.
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Caleb opens his arms, extending them to his sides and proffering a quiet warmth.
Essek trusts him to be here and this is different from so long ago.
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This is not comfort for survival; it’s a conscious vulnerability on both their parts.
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But Essek flinches at the motion, drifting back and away from Caleb’s embrace, away from this room they have spent time sharing, like they would catch and trap him, and he rights himself uncannily well despite the ways his face still leaks.
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Disappointment, concern, and relief all burn together.
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Essek does not need Caleb like that.
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Even so, his muted, jarringly pleasant façade is askew; it doesn’t fit quite right anymore now that Essek has grown to encompass more than another vizard underneath. Caleb knows, can see hesitance slip through the cracks in the way Essek clenches his hands motionless.
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Seeming to remember his magic, Essek clears his face and throat, mending the mask some.
“I’ll go. Thank you.”
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Still, Essek stays of his own volition, untethered even to the ground.
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This current bond between them is something very different from what Caleb had before, very different from what he and Essek had before; it’s something grown newer, blooming fresh of their own choosing, tended to on purpose.
This is alright.
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So what can Caleb do but continue to pay forward a gesture of goodwill and good intent, born to soothe memory and fostered to mark safe opportunity, among other hopeful sentiments?
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Slowly, slowly, as Essek watches with a level gaze, meeting his eyes all the while, Caleb takes a careful step out of the room.
Over the course of an eon, he raises a single hand to ghost fingertips over Essek’s cheek, to steady himself, to ensure Essek is willing to accept this smaller touch, and waits.
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Though he does not flinch again through these snail-paced motions, does not back away from Caleb any farther, the mask slips as Essek seems to realize what Caleb is planning and he bows his head.
Squeezes his eyes shut and buries them under taut brows like he’s anticipating a swat.
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This is nothing of the sort.
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Caleb leans in and up, and presses a gentle kiss to Essek’s forehead before withdrawing both hand and face, volunteering no further touch.
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He keeps the quiet, the closeness, but still asks, head dipped and voice soft, a murmur.
“Sit with me?”
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No response, only the same grimace, the same clenched jaw. Tear trails reappear.
.
“I can show you how to count.”
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Essek’s eyes open, violet deep as pre-dawn dusk and framed by dew-melt clung hoarfrost lashes, and they grow sharper, more focused.
“I know numbers fine.”
His eyebrows slant with what could even be read as defiance against presumed patronizing.
Good, good, welcome back.
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Caleb crooks a gentle grin, feels the steep upturn of his brow line.
“But do you know my way?”
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A tiny fleck of curiosity lightens Essek’s eyes, lifts his ears; it’s a shift imperceptible enough that Caleb would miss it had he not spent time deliberately learning the difference between its presence and absence.
.
So Caleb turns aside and pulls a cat-call cord, gesturing through the door to their well-familiar couch, before following his own guide. He takes the middle rather than his corner and pats Essek’s side of the seat, looking back to him, keeping his face open.
Essek follows and settles into his place, drifting down and pulling small, clearing his face again.
.
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A moment more and then Gretchen, dutiful as ever, waltzes into the room with a chirp, making a point to rub against Essek’s idle hands as she jumps onto the couch on her way to Caleb.
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“Hot cocoa, ice water, and some snacks, those little finger foods with fiddly bits that Jester brought last time, for my friend and I, ja?”
Gretchen purrs as Caleb scratches on either side of her jaw before she disengages, pesters Essek again to receive a few more disjointed pets, and pads away to fulfill the request.
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As they wait, Caleb demonstrates how he counts for breath when difficult thoughts swarm and tension grabs his lungs tight.
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Staying quiet, Essek breathes along, seeming to sink further into the couch with each exhale.
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Cats come and go, filling the low table in front of the couch with drinks and nibbling tidbits.
Perhaps it would be best to keep such things handy and readily present, Caleb notes.
Just in case.
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Without much deliberation, Essek claims a mug of cocoa, holding it between both hands, staring in as steam matches the jumbled swirls of his hair.
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So he does want some warmth.
.
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Having no specific appetite, Caleb only keeps watch on the fireplace, ready to follow along with whatever Essek decides next, even if that means Essek leaves entirely.
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The hearth plays a crackling solo to the room.
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Ice makes a single clink to glass.
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“Verin taught me that, a long time ago.”
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Caleb glances to Essek- he’s gripping his mug tight.
“Checking the pulse?”
“Mh... And I-”
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Caleb waits, listens.
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A sharp inhale.
“I apologize. For barging in and- doing that. I realize it was strange, unseemly, invasive. I couldn’t collect my thoughts well enough to say anything meaningful, but I should have kept boundaries in mind instead of falling to…”
Essek’s lips push flat as he releases his breath through his nose, an expression of consideration, Caleb decides.
“Buried… habit.”
.
Habit, hm.
.
Caleb absently runs a hand down his sleeved forearm before resting his hands together, held loose in his lap. Fingers to palm back, he kneads one thumb to the heel of the other, and looks back to the flames.
.
“Well, I’ll be prepared should it happen again.”
.
“Ah.”
.
.
Firelight catches in condensation, bejewelling the water pitcher with golden cabochons and veins of amber.
.
.
Caleb glances aside.
“Would you like to stay?”
Tired violet eyes turn to Caleb when he asks this, wide as the saucers on the low table.
.
.
Then Essek looks back to his untouched drink, nods reticent.
.
.
The ice in the pitcher catches Caleb’s ear when it shifts upon melting some from the fire’s warmth.
.
.
He tips his head to Essek.
“Would you like me to stay?”
.
.
Essek gives a wry huff to his cocoa.
“Would that be selfish?”
“I’d like to stay.”
.
A quick shift of violet to Caleb before Essek’s gaze returns to the mug.
“Then be my guest. Or- oh. I…. Ha.”
.
It could be a trick of the shifting firelight, could be Caleb’s sleepy eyes, but Essek’s expression seems to turn just a little tender, just a touch softer on the edges, as his voice lilts a murmur.
.
“I suppose I’m yours, hm?”
.
.
A gentle smile pulls at Caleb’s lips, and he watches as Essek traces the rim of his mug with a thumb, fingers and palms still held against its warming sides, the contents inside rippling slightly.
.
“Is there anything else you’d like? Anything to help?”
.
A glinting fang worries a lip. But no words.
.
“Show me?”
.
Essek looks up from his mug to Caleb, eyes flicking between Caleb’s, brows softly furrowed, but he neither says nor does anything further than the glance.
.
No matter what Essek could ask for, Caleb knows this is safe.
.
“I won’t run.”
.
.
A moment.
.
.
Caleb will give Essek all the time he needs to consider.
.
.
A moment more.
.
.
Then, careful and slow, not spilling a drop of his drink, Essek unfurls and abandons his corner in favor of tucking himself next to Caleb, going so far as to nestle his way under Caleb’s arm and press against his side, shoulder to hip, legs folded up and feet drawn under.
.
This close, Caleb can feel Essek’s tremors immediately lessen, can feel Essek’s chest expand and contract alongside his own.
.
Caleb can feel Essek’s fluttering heartbeat, rather in sync with his own.
.
.
They are both very alive, present together.
.
.
“This, if it’s alright?”
.
.
Caleb remains stationary, not wanting to spook Essek from this rare moment of outreach, looking into those too-careful, entreating eyes.
.
.
His heart feels fit to burst.
.
.
“Ja, this is alright.”
.
.
Essek blinks, nods, settles further into place and turns his eyes to the fire.
.
.
.
And so they sit, leaning side-by-side, breathing together, sweet steam warming the air around them, the fireplace casting its gentle warm light through crystalline ice water.
.
.
.
Essek’s eyes grow unfocused as he watches the flames.
Deep in thought, Caleb assumes.
.
.
.
Muscles held taut relax, slowly, slowly.
.
.
.
Eventually, Essek takes a sip of his drink.
.
.
Caleb, drowsy, comfortable, definitely does not stare when Essek reflexively licks the chocolate from his lips.
He definitely does not wonder how it would taste.
.
.
.
The water pitcher’s ice shifts again.
The hearth cracks in reply.
.
.
.
Caleb holds Essek close until he wants his space again.
.
.
Read I Lean In and Kiss Him [Right Here] on AO3
T, M/M, No Archive Warnings apply, Complete (5 Chapters, 10.9k)
#shadowgast#essek thelyss#caleb widogast#critical role#critical role fanfiction#i just really like this bit#chanse writing
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The Little Nereid Part 8
Record of Ragnarok fanfiction
Poseidon x OC
Current word count: 22,000
Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate… and painful.
Categories and warnings: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending, slow-burn (ish); no sexual content. There will be some graphic violence in the future.
Updated regularly, multiple times a week; will have about 14 parts total.
---
Poseidon sat, tapping his fingers impatiently on the arms of his chair. He had returned to his rooms to await the arrival of his elder brother, who was, by force of habit, late. Hades was never on time to meetings that weren't urgent, and this evening was no different. He seemed to run on his own clock, and came and went on his own terms. Of course, Poseidon didn't care if he showed up either way. But if Hades was going to demand part of his day, the least he could do was be punctual.
His gaze drifted across the room to the glass doors that led to the balcony. The wind was still howling, causing enough of a stir that he could barely hear the crackling of the fireplace only a dozen feet away. His eyes narrowed in irritation. He hadn't willed the seas to be this way, so why did this storm persist? He curled his fingers into a fist with slow deliberation, commanding the wind to stop.
It made no difference, and the low roar continued.
He heard the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs that led to his quarters, and he rose his head with a sigh. It was about time.
Well, he hadn't heard the footsteps so much as felt them. Although the steps moved at a leisurely pace, each footfall contained a heavy, almost stifling energy; the signature of the god they belonged to. The flames of the fireplace wavered in response, and the wind outside finally began to quiet to a reasonable whisper.
The doors opened slowly, and his elder brother entered. Despite the weather outside, his clothes were still perfectly straight and poised; his hair was unruffled from its usual careful style. His expression was unhurried, almost casual, and Poseidon scowled in response.
"Now, Poseidon, is a face like that any way to greet your older brother?" Hades asked languidly as he approached.
"You come waltzing in here an hour after the agreed upon time, and you're worried about etiquette now?"
"Ah, such an abrasive response," Hades sighed, sliding onto the seat across from Poseidon. "So typical of you."
"Enough. What are you here for?" Poseidon demanded.
"I'll get straight to the point, then. I come on behalf of Hera, to help her make her case," Hades responded, indifferent to Poseidon's anger. He folded his hands before him, taking on a more serious tone. "I understand her last visit was trying for both of you."
"I ought to forbid her from entering the premises outright," Poseidon grumbled, looking away. "She only ever comes to nag anyways." His gaze returned to his brother. "But you never side with Hera on anything. Why do you come to do her dirty work now? Surely there's some other reason that you came."
"You're right," Hades admitted freely. "To be honest, I come, not on her behalf, but on the behalf of my beloved Persephone. You see, Hera went straight from your palace to mine the other day to rant about your unbecoming behavior. But Persephone's in the family way now, and Hera's visit - behavior, more precisely - alarmed her. I don't wish for a repeat performance, at least not until the baby's born, so I'm here to knock some sense into that oblivious head of yours." He smiled humorlessly.
Poseidon blinked, then he glared. That sentence hadn't ended the way he'd expected. "Knock some sense, huh?"
"Poseidon, you are thousands of years old, and you have had no lovers." Hades waved his hand lightly over the table, and two glasses and a cask of wine appeared. "There are only two possibilities: The first is that you experience attraction to no one and nothing, in which case you have my condolences. Romance is the headiest of pleasures." He carefully poured the wine into both glasses before rising his own to his lips for a slow sip. "The second is that you have, and you're too stupid and inexperienced to know what to do about it."
Poseidon's glare turned from one of irritation to one of malice. "What brave words, Hades."
Hades ignored his brother's veiled threat. "So which would it be, little brother?" He lowered his glass from his lips and stared at Poseidon over the rim. "The sooner you spit it out, the sooner we can smooth out this stupid feud with Hera and the sooner I can return to my wife and realm."
Poseidon stared at his untouched glass of wine. "I have desire for no one. I need no one. I will have no one."
"The waves tell me otherwise, brother." Hades retorted. "I understand a party of Nereids took leave of the palace earlier today. A little bird told me in particular that they left with the intention of removing one of their own from your influence."
Poseidon's gaze cut sharply back up to Hade's. "Does this little bird have a death wish? A desire to see just how deep the ocean trenches get?"
"Answer the unspoken question, Poseidon. What's going on between you and that sea-nymph?" Hades refilled his glass. "Did she offend you? Did you throw your trident at her when she messed up your morning tea? Or is there something else?"
Dynamene. Something in Poseidon's eyes stirred. "There was a time when I nearly did throw my trident at her." The words had left his mouth without his permission.
"Ah. A time you nearly did. But something's changed since then, hasn't it?" Hades smirked triumphantly. "I know you have a soft spot for the Nereids. That's why none of them have died in the thousand years they've served you. Has the other shoe finally dropped? Have you fallen for one of them?"
"The Nereids are smart enough to know their place, and I mine," Poseidon answered sharply. "We have no relationship. They serve me, and in return I allow them to live leisurely at my palace."
"That's what Hera said you told her," Hades sighed, crossing his legs. "Oh, well. I suppose it doesn't matter what comes out of your mouth now. The ocean grew stormy after that nymph left, and it hasn't toned down in the hours since." Hades finished his second glass of wine. "You can say what you like, but your defensive demeanor and the crashing waves outside say otherwise. Let me offer you some brotherly advice, as a more experienced man." Hades leaned closer, his eyes glinting. "Do not wait forever to make your move. Knowing you, I'm sure you've made enough missteps already. Don't make more."
"Missteps?" Poseidon had had enough of the insults. "And what experience, exactly, qualifies you to advise me?" He sneered. "Kidnapping a girl to force her to become your bride?"
"I got her, didn't I?" Hades retorted, unbothered by Poseidon's scathing words. "The woman of my dreams, who welcomes me home with affection and shares my bed at night. She's mine, and mine alone, because I was prepared to use any means necessary. If only Zeus hadn't gotten involved on Demeter's behalf..." He sighed. "I could've had her to myself every month of the year." He clicked his tongue in disappointment.
Poseidon huffed in disgust. "Barbaric. You disgust me. A god shouldn't have to force any woman to be their bride, let alone kidnap her."
"And yet here you sit, drowning in your own misery because the maiden you're besotted with might escape your grasp and you're too socially inept to make her yours." Hades smirked and rose to his feet. "Tell me this, Poseidon. You say we have no need of love, and that's true. We have no need of warmth, of pleasure, of sun and air, of the sea... As gods, we could sit in a vacuum forever and we'd be no worse off for it. But does that keep us from desiring those things?"
Poseidon didn't answer.
"Mhm. You know, if this is the nymph I was told it was, she is young and inexperienced. Naïve and oblivious in love. That's perfect, however, because so are you." Hades chuckled. "Let me know if you have need of a few pomegranate seeds in the future. Take care, little brother." Hades rose his empty glass to him in a toast before taking his leave.
Poseidon glowered at the door long after Hades had left. Disgusting. What a repugnant idea, that one should be so desperate for love that they would trap the object of their affections for eternity. It's pathetic. It's unbecoming for gods like us.
We have no need of love. None. We don't need it. It's unnecessary.
I don't want it. His clenched fists were shaking. I hate it.
He grabbed the cask of wine and threw it across the room. It exploded into splinters of wood on impact with the wall, blood-red wine bursting onto the floor. He stared at the liquid as it slowly bled across the floor, making its way to the tips of his boots.
I can't have it.
That nymph was annoying. He wished she'd just let him be. How had such a slight young girl embedded herself so deeply in his mind? She kept invading his thoughts now at every chance she got. He could see her wide sea-gray eyes even now, reflecting his own face back at him. He could hear the way her breath caught when he touched her, as if she was overwhelmed at such a slight gesture. And he remembered that feeling he got when she watched his lips, as if clinging to his every word. She was intoxicated just by his presence, and Poseidon didn't understand.
So many beings respected him, admired him, feared him. Whole worlds hinged on him and his actions. Sailors uttered prayers to him under their breath as they began their voyages. Merpeople presented him with offerings to ensure a peaceful and bountiful realm. Coastal cities did their best to appease him to protect their civilization from the ocean's wrath. He was a god, the pinnacle of existence.
But what was he, exactly, in Dynamene's eyes? Someone to be respected and admired, of course. She saw him as the perfect god he was, and she was smitten by it. But did she fear him? No. Why would she? He had had ample reason to execute her for spying on his meeting with Hera, and yet he hadn't. He had never harmed her or rejected her. He'd hardly even scolded her.
So, without fear holding her back, she continued to press his boundaries. She asked questions. She watched him unabashedly. She reached for his hand. She had embraced him.
He didn't want anyone else to know that side of her. He didn't want anyone else to be the focus of her attention. It belonged to him. Surely, as the tyrant of the seas, he was the only one worthy of it.
He pursed his lips. I don't need it; and yet...
I want it.
---
Author's notes: Formatting will be fixed once I get on my laptop later.
Shorter part this time, but I wanted to keep the focus on the conversation between these two. It's important for getting into Poseidon's head. What a selfish, helpless man.
Hades! Or rather, my version of Hades. Who knows if this portrayal of him will hold up once we've seen more of his character in the manga.
I might go back and edit the text slightly later, but the vast majority of it will remain the same.
"In the family way" is an old-fashioned, polite way of saying a woman is pregnant.
#record of ragnarok#record of ragnarok poseidon#poseidon#poseidon x oc#hades#shuumatsu no valkyrie#fanfiction
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Entangled
(One-shot based on this post)
Lena looks beautiful tonight.
She's all Kara can think about, despite being surrounded by everyone she loves. Her eyes track back every few seconds no matter where she treks in the apartment or how much her family and friends vie for her attention. It's their first game night post-Phantom Zone and post-The Break, as Kara thinks of it. The first time everyone is back together, smiling and laughing and happy, in over a year. And they all want Kara's attention, her presence the glue for the family after her absence.
But all she can think about is Lena.
Lena sitting close on the couch while they play games. Lena passing her the last pot sticker on her plate without thought. Lena standing in the kitchen refilling her wine glass and mingling with Kelly and Brainy, at home among their friends. Kara focuses on her, intent to memorize every single detail of the other women as if she may never see her again. The crinkles by her piercing eyes when she squints in laughter at one of Nia's corny puns. The play of light on her features accentuating the sharp angle of her jaw and the soft curve of her lips. The gentle, bright look she shares with Kara when she catches her looking, a hard won relief radiating out from the woman after months of fighting one another. Kara could practically taste the joy on the air, surrounded by her little family.
Kara hopes that look means everything that her matching expression means: I love you. I'm home again, and I missed you. Hopes beyond all reason that Lena understands and is sending the same message back.
It's been a week since she returned to find Lena unemployed and living at the Tower out of a hastily packed suitcase. A week since she refused to let Lena remain in the cold and impersonal lair and convinced Lena to unofficially move in with her. She wouldn't admit it, not even to Alex, but one of the reasons Kara insisted so strongly was because she couldn't bear to sleep alone. The memories of her nightmares from her childhood after landing on Earth were enough to drench her in fear of the coming nights, the darkness and isolation that pulled her under the waves of terror. It turned out to be the best decision for both of the women as they both suffered and only found peace and reprieve when sleeping next to one another.
And it's been two days since Kara bared her soul to Alex, finally admitting the depth of her feelings for Lena after her sister told her about the decision they had been forced to make: Kara or National City. Her feelings that lay dormant for years due to her fear but surfaced to crush her under their weight during the year spent away from Lena, that grew like ivy through her heart until they covered every inch of her life. Kara sobbed into Alex's shoulder, for time lost and hope and comfort from her one constant through everything. Alex, for her part, seemed decidedly less surprised by Kara's outburst than she had expected. She let Kara expend her tears, then quietly told her it was time for Kara to choose her own happiness first. To put herself before the world and her past and her decades of fear. To tell Lena and let them be happy, together.
So now, Kara sits on her couch, surrounded by family and basking in the warmth of their love and closeness, nervous and fidgeting while she anxiously replays her prepared speech over and over in her head. For one terrifying moment, the whole situation felt excruciatingly familiar and terror spikes through her. Alex lays a hand on her bouncing knee, a distraction and reassurance that all would end well if Kara just trusted herself and Lena.
The night wore on in pleasant company until the group thinned out, pair by pair. Only Alex and Kelly remain on their way out of the apartment. Alex lingers in the doorway to give Kara an extended hug and whisper encouragement in her ear. "Good luck, Kar. Love you." She and Kelly say their last goodbye to Lena, and Kara quietly closes the door for the evening.
After taking a deep, steadying breath, Kara turns back to find Lena tossing empty take-out boxes into the recycling bin and setting their empty glasses in the sink. With her hair in a haphazard bun, Kara's NCU sweatshirt, and her cheeks pink tinged, Lena leaves Kara breathless in the entryway. The domesticity and familiarity of Lena in her clothes, in her home and cleaning up; in her glasses, forgotten after a particularly spot on impersonation during charades and still perched on the bridge of her nose, have Kara dreaming of their possible future. Of games nights and family dinners and quiet nights in that begin and end with Lena by her side.
Kara's tongue darts out to wet her lips and her hands twist together as she moves closer to Lena who has rinsed the glasses and is drying her hands on one of Kara's novelty printed dish towels. When she turns and spots Kara, hovering nearby but without fully approaching, she watches the simple movements of Kara's hands with rapt attention and smiles the same gentle grin from throughout the night. The corners of her mouth turn down slightly when she notices the focused crinkle between Kara's eyes, the unfailing sign she was deep in thought or struggling to vocalize something she found important.
Kara hardly registers the soft padding of Lena's socked feet across the floor until she reaches up to smooth the offending crinkle away with her fingertips. Kara's eyes drop closed at the gentle press, and she exhales a long held breath, focusing entirely on the point of contact and warmth to ground herself in the moment and chase any final doubts away. "Lena," Kara's voice puffs out into the quiet of their closeness. Lena's hand drifts to brush a stray curl behind Kara's ear before answering, matching her reverent tone. "What is it, darling?" Kara's eyes slide open to take in the gaze fixed on her: Lena promising safety and trust trust with nothing but the vulnerability in her eyes and the press of her hand to Kara's chest, just over where her crest materializes. It's enough to set Kara's heart beating wildly in anticipation.
"I need to tell you something. We promised each other, no more secrets. And there's one more thing I need you to know before we try this again. Our friendship, or you know, us."
Kara can see Lena's response to her words and hesitated. Lena's shoulders immediately tensing and her mouth drawing into a tight line, fighting trembling lips. She places her hand over Lena's on her chest to keep her from pulling away preemptively and to draw the strength she needs for what may come next. "Kara, what-?" "Wait, please. It's not bad, well, I don't think so, it's just, um-" Kara stops to regroup her frantic thoughts.
"Just, um, let me say what I need to say. And, if you don't, you know, feel the same or want anything to change, then none of this will matter."
Lena relaxes minutely, squinting at Kara's phrasing in suspicion and confusion. She lets Kara hold her hand in place. Once she feels Lena's tension release enough to prove she's listening, Kara plunges into her speech.
"Lena, you are my best friend. One of the two most important people to me. When we were fighting," Kara sucks in a deep breath at the lingering pain of their separation. "that was one of the hardest years of my life. All this terrible stuff was happening, and my person, the one I go to when everything feels like its falling apart, was gone. You were gone. I could still hear you and see you, but I couldn't have you. You were gone, and it was all my fault."
Hot tears spill free from Kara's eyes. When Lena reaches up to wipe them away, Kara leans heavily into her warm palm.
"Kara, darling, it's okay. We've forgiven each other. You don't need to apologize again."
A soft laugh escapes Kara's lips before she turns her head to press a kiss to Lena's palm. She speaks into Lena's hand, too nervous to see what Lena's reaction will be to her next words.
"I'm not. I'm just being honest. I lied to you for years. Willfully. Cruelly. Because I was selfish and stupid and scared. Rao, I was so scared to lose you. So, I rationalized lying day after day because I knew you'd leave when I told you. I knew the moment I said the words, it was over. No matter what I did or said, I would lose you."
The apartment was silent but for Kara's sniffles and her overflowing words.
"I did lose you." The whisper carries a year's worth of pain and longing.
"But, me being Supergirl isn't the biggest thing I haven't told you."
Lena's sharp inhale draws a fresh panicked round of tears from Kara who holds tighter to Lena's hand on her chest and forges onward quickly.
"You have to understand why I haven't said anything. It's not that I haven't wanted to; it's all I can think about sometimes. Most days now. But I couldn't. How could I- it would've been-" Kara stops and looks at Lena again, to read the expectation and shock flaring behind her green eyes. "I had to be honest about who I am before I could be honest about how I feel."
Lena joins Kara now with the first of her own tears breaking free to run down her cheeks. Kara can hear the quickening pace of her heart and focuses on the sound.
"Lena, I met you, and my whole world changed. You didn't know me during my first year as Supergirl, didn't see the rage that I could barely control or the reckless way I threw myself at every enemy. I struggled. A lot. But you showed me that we aren't bound by our family's sins. That I could hope and change and-" Kara feels the weight of the word on the tip of her tongue, rolls it around in her head another second and tastes the letters as they spill out for Lena to catch or watch shatter on the ground. "love. I met you, and I realized how deeply and fully I can love. I've lost so much, so many people, and I tend to be very protective of the love I share. But, I've learned that, despite what I've lost, the pain and the loneliness, I can love with my entire self. With all of who I am. With my heart, my body, and my soul. All that I am; all that I've experienced and will experience, everything. I can love through it and find strength in those who love me."
It was now Kara's turn to gently brush the fallen tears from Lena's cheek, one hand still holding firmly to Lena's hand on her chest.
"I've been drawn to you from the first day we met and every day after. I've never been able to fight it. Never wanted to, even when we were on opposites sides. I could never quite see through my love for you. Alex used to find it extremely frustrating, but I think she's finally come around."
Their watery laughs mingle together.
"You asked me once if I knew anything about quantum entanglement. I may know more about it than I admitted. And since that day, I haven't been able to think of you in any other way. I love you, but it isn't just that I love you. I am tethered to you, pulled across the universe to orbit you. The true source of my strength. I am entwined with you on a molecular level and in my soul. My parents sent me here to save me and to protect Kal, but something more, something bigger, maybe Rao himself, brought me to you."
Kara carefully absorbs Lena's body language, her stillness and continued silence. She seems to barely be breathing in the wake of the confession. The only sign Kara has that Lena is still listening is the furious pounding of her heartbeat reverberating through Kara's ears. Normally, even moments ago, the steady rhythm calms Kara, so much that she would take to flying over L-Corp during the past year just to hear the familiar sound. But now it leaves her uncertain and nervous. She fills the empty charged air with rambling, too anxious to wait for Lena to resume her normal functioning.
"I understand you might not feel the same, and after everything, I don't blame you. I mean, I did lie and then call you a villain and treat you pretty bad, so yeah." Kara trails off, cringing at the less than stellar stream of words her mouth chose. "So, um, if you don't want anything to change, then it doesn't have to. It won't. We can keep being friends and having game nights and movie nights. And you can obviously stay here as long as you need. I just, um, needed you to know how I feel."
The tide was open, and Kara couldn't find the ability to lock the flood gates on her mouth. Tears begin a fresh descent in the wake of her expelled anxiety.
"And I feel that I love you. That I am in love with you. I am in love with you, Lena."
Salt brines her lips, and her tongue tastes the clinging mineral as it slides out to wet them. Lena remains stoically still in her position pressed to Kara and swimming in her own trickle of tears. Kara notes the slowing of them, the crystalline droplets that drip from her jaw to the floor. She watches Lena's lips part and the quick flicker of her green eyes over Kara's face, landing first on her own blue eyes, then her nose, her cheeks, the scar above her eyebrow, before settling lower on her trembling lips.
She can't stand the limbo, the electric deja vu and mixture of fear and hope.
"Lena, please say something."
In reflection, Kara knows the moment, the span of seconds between her plead and Lena's reaction, only lasted the length of a heartbeat. But in the beat between her words and Lena's movement, Kara felt the weight of every loss she's suffered, every end. And every beginning. Every beautiful Earth sunrise and blossoming friendship. Anticipation swelled painfully behind her ribcage, her heart preparing to drop or soar.
In that moment, Lena held more power over Kara than any amount of Kryptonite ever could. With one second she could either crush Kara beneath one more disappointment and loss, or she could fuel Kara more powerfully than the yellow sun.
Kara's throat tenses with choking tears as she opens her mouth to withdraw every word to ever steal its way past her lips, but Lena blocks any hasty retreat half-formed with her own lips pressing firmly against Kara's. She pushes forward, bumping their noses and pressing her body impossibly closer, their hands still trapped between the mingling beats of their hearts.
Locked and entwined. Entangled over an invisible crest.
When her lips meet Kara's, soft but sure and insistent, Kara's mind blissfully silences but for the rapid fire pleasure of feeling and Lena. The burning desire in her chest spreading through her limbs and begging for more. More skin, more lips, more pressure. More Lena. All around her, flooding her senses until there's nothing left but the two of them.
It's everything and more than she imagined. Her nose fills with nothing but the sweet perfume Lena wears daily, and the lavender undertones of her own conditioner in Lena's hair. For once, the world quiets in Kara's hypersensitive ears, condensed to the sighs escaping Lena's mouth as she leans further into their kiss. And it's the taste that leaves Kara dazed and desperate for the next kiss. The fruity wine clinging to Lena's tongue and the underlying taste that is distinctly Lena. Unlike anything Kara has ever tasted and addictive from the first touch of Lena's tongue to her own.
They remain in their embrace, erasing any space that crept between them during their fighting and time apart. Even after breaking for air and resting their foreheads together, reveling in one another, they stay close. Kara can't fight the broad smile stretching across her face, and she hears Lena's matching grin in her words, reverently whispered in their shared breaths.
"And I love you, Kara. All of you. Always."
AO3 link
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Savior
Nicholas Scratch x Reader
The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina
Part Four:
The Angel of Mercy
First, it was his soul.
Nick never regretted the fact that he was born a warlock. He had powers, longevity, and led a lifestyle of envy. So, when he came of age, he signed on the dotted line in the Book of the Beast. Ever since then, the word ‘regret’ had never once entered his vocabulary.
There was a slim chance he’d ever be called upon to do something untoward, and if it did happen, well...what’s one sin in exchange for a life of frivolity and debauchery?
But next...it was his heart.
Lust, power, knowledge; dedicating his soul to the Dark Lord came with massive perks, and he wasn’t exactly complaining when one of them manifested in the appearance of Sabrina Spellman.
No...Sabrina Morningstar.
He couldn’t explain exactly how or why. His devotion, his loyalty; It had been stolen away by yet another Morningstar, his heart charmed and mind swayed. The powerful capabilities the young witch displayed did nothing but endear him to the demure, compassionate mor(t)ality she fought so hard to keep.
Sabrina Morningstar-Spellman was both the enticement and innocence of the flesh of the lamb... and it would have done Nick well to remember that the lamb is but the spawn of the Beast.
Suddenly, Nick found himself dancing a little too closely with the Devil; twin stars he pledged himself to ended up with him finally learning the word regret once the last pledge left his lips:
Nicholas Scratch, for the love of his life and the containment of it’s keeper, volunteered to be the flesh acheron.
And now, Nick found himself trapped in an everlasting Hell even the darkest of his nightmares couldn’t have begun to manifest.
The Baphomet and the lamb; the Degraded and the Pure. Both were sides of the same twisted fate he’d found himself a part of, desperate to escape. His mind had long since melted into a pool of chaos and intense fear. He’d tried countless ways to just end it all, if only Lucifer were so kind. He no longer had a life to speak of; just endless suffering and eternal doom. His life wasn’t supposed to be like this…
Not like this.
Nick thought himself a pretty gifted warlock, and had long since placed protection charms upon his mind and body should anything or anyone with malicious intention attempt to try him.
He doesn’t know what he was thinking at the time he convinced Sabrina, the coven, and himself that it was a good idea to use his own body as the flesh acheron, but he does admit that hubris and naivete played a part. And at the moment of that final “I love you” to Sabrina, he accepted his fate and was determined to face it no matter what happened to him.
Unfortunately for Nick, you can’t guard against the Devil.
Lucifer made quick work of him, and Nick soon found himself in a never-ending cycle of pain and torture he couldn’t have even fathomed beforehand. Suddenly, his life’s outlook was being eternally violated by the Dark Lord without reprieve. And from what it looked like, it was only a matter of time before he completely broke and the Dark Lord once again took up his mantle of dominating Hell and eventually Earth. All that would be left of Nick and his sacrifice would be any empty shell of a person who no longer knows how to exist as one.
So when the lamb arrived and saved Nick from the Baphomet, he supposed he should have been grateful. Happy, even. Nick had gone to Hell for Sabrina Spellman, and she’d gone to Hell to save him.
But as time still seemed to stretch on without end, he started to break.
Though it wasn’t exactly her fault, Sabrina could never understand what her father put him through because of her. Coupled with her lack of even really trying, her wish for him to just sweep everything under the rug and go back to how things were left him feeling more than a little resentful.
The resounding silence of his once scrambled mind did nothing but make for a much effective echochamber of his worst memories; memories which were exceedingly numerous and fresh. Nick looked for something, anything to fill up or dull that silence; most of which were methods not exactly healthy for him and definitely not healthy for his relationship.
It didn’t take long for the Morningstars to steal away Nicholas Scratch, and it was with resounding disgust that they spat back out all three parts of him they’d taken, broken beyond recognition.
Now stuck dealing with his many issues alone, the tortured boy clung to the only achingly fleeting memories that kept him grounded in rationality instead of spiraling into illusions of the dreadful abyss looming in his haunted mind. And as he replayed the images of the illuminating figure who reminded him that he was still human and that his heart was still beating, to his displeasure he’d found that he wished he had more.
She visited exactly 12 times.
Twelve blessed encounters, each one increasing his fervor more than the last; her presence was like a drug to Nick, a sustenance that he would easily admit to himself he couldn’t go without any longer.
While (Y/N) did explain to him that her powers were limited inside Hell and there wasn’t much of a chance she could directly free him, he couldn’t stop himself from pining after her whenever she was absent. At first, images of Sabrina had been what kept him going. He constantly reminded himself that she was probably doing all she could to save him, and when she actually did, he told himself that everything would finally be okay again.
Nick and Sabrina picked up exactly where they left off, eager to get back to each other again. He reminded himself, Satan be damned, he loved her; otherwise he’d have never sacrificed himself for her to begin with.
Nick had gone to Hell for Sabrina Spellman, was tortured by the Devil himself, and at the time, he had no regrets.
But things couldn’t go back to the way they used to be. He couldn’t go back.
That doesn’t mean that Sabrina didn’t try to help him in whatever way she could, but once she revealed her new royal status, Nick’s remaining feelings of responsibility towards the blonde Morningstar withered away along with the rest of the kinders of their relationship.
Nick was back amongst his coven, friends, lover; but he still felt so achingly alone and afraid all the time. He wanted to feel something, anything other than the despair Lucifer Morningstar so thoroughly imprinted into his being. Despite the love he told himself he felt for the little Morningstar, the literal spawn of his trauma, the only beacon he could rely on to keep him sane was the memory of you.
And as he reminisced on your serendipitous encounters, to his shame, he couldn’t help but compare.
After a while, it had become hard for Nick to separate the daughter from the father, the lamb from the Baphomet. In his intense resentment, he’d gotten to the point where his mind was becoming absolutely blank as it gave in to the invading presence of the sheer evil he’d been fighting against for so long…
And then an angel descended, and he’d nearly cried out in tears and praise for the false God.
It had taken him a while to realize that Lucifer’s presence couldn’t be felt anymore, and even longer to convince himself that it wasn’t a trick. He would close his eyes and see his demons warping beneath the surface, twisting his psyche into a weak, chaotic mess. He would open them and still see red, the color of a neverending hellscape created specifically to terrorize his soul and break him apart piece by piece, rebuilding and breaking again until nothing original was left. He saw despair, and he felt it as well. A gloom so deeply settled into his being that it would have been impossible to get rid of; a shell of the person he’d once been.
So no, Nick couldn’t tell you if his eyes were ever open or closed, because it made no difference to him at all. And one day in that eternity of Hell, Nick finally came to realize he regretted being all alone...
So, pray tell, when a lonely, broken boy suddenly feels someone wipe away his tears, what ever should he say?
He could only posture himself and pray.
The warmth and comfort his angel brought him blessed him with a near orgasmic experience, abruptly tugging him from the brink of despair. For a moment, he questioned if she, if he — was even real, or if Lucifer was really trying that hard to live up to his name as the harbinger of lost home and doom. But when the blessed hands caressed his face, and those saintly eyes pierced through the darkness forever in his view to meet his own, all he could feel was intense relief -- and shame.
Shame over who he was, where he’d gotten himself, and how he’d gotten there.
Surely someone who dedicated their life and soul to the Devil himself didn’t deserve the presence and grace of a literal angel in the darkest moment of his life?
So, with his eyes wide open once again, he cried. He cried at her grace, and at her mercy. Even after she coaxed him down from his delirium and explained who she really was, he wept at the sheer exuberance he felt that she even appeared -- let alone helped him -- just when he was forgetting what it felt to feel anything but pain and suffering. She was his angel, godly or not, and he thanked his lucky stars that it was his fate to be able to meet her in that moment.
Soon, between visits, it became her face, not Sabrina’s, that he’d found had kept him going. (Y/N) had become his symbol of hope, his new god, his only savior. Disillusioned with giving his life to people who only harmed him, (Y/N) became his new religion as he found himself praying to the stars and the Fates for her speedy return. Every time he was graced with her presence, he understood that whatever was written in the stars for him couldn’t have been so bad if he was able to meet her in between the lines.
And when Nick found himself finally out of Hell and in Sabrina’s arms again, he was fully prepared to keep his newfound faith close to his heart and out of the sight of others. Everything that had happened to him was incredibly personal, whether it be his time with you or with the Dark Lord. But when Sabrina revealed her new status as Queen of Hell to him and effectively admitted that everything he’d been through -- his sacrifice, his loss, his pain -- was all for nothing, Nick felt as if time had stopped and his heart had caved in.
He tried his hardest to be okay; with his life, with his coven, with Sabrina. He began coping in the only way he knew how, which admittedly did more harm than good. But without your presence to pull him from the brink, Nick found himself spiralling down the dark depths of his memories with no foreseeable end and without support. Eventually, the pent up resentment and mind games the Dark Lord still insisted on playing with him even after his escape got to him, and he lashed out. The Morningstars took everything from him; his heart, his body, his soul. The coven, Sabrina; no one actually understood him or the anguish he had experienced -- still experienced -- every second of his existence since that final pledge left his lips. The increased sense of isolation brought up his darkest thoughts and feelings, and soon he found himself not only cut off from Sabrina, but from the rest of the coven as well.
As the witches found themselves caught off guard by the arrival of the pagans, Nick instead would find himself staring up at the night sky, alone, searching for his hope.
And while the witches were more concerned with the moon, Nick was waiting for the stars.
As it was predestined, one very particular night Nick felt a very particular warmth bloom across his chest. He smiled, and smiled as wide as his face would allow at that. Because as he watched a very particular star fall from the sky, he knew finally:
The person he placed his faith in didn’t let him down.
*
Author’s Note: Here’s part 5! Next chapter should be out next Sunday.
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Jake's POV Descendants of Despair Part 54
We drove around the block, looking for a place to park that would be hidden enough. We had our whole lives in that car, so it was a risk to leave it unattended. After we had parked, I left the car and headed to the back of the vehicle, opening the boot to make sure my gear was completely covered with bunched up blankets. There was no way I was willing to risk our ongoing safety. She grabbed her backpack and put it onto her back. “Right, let’s go,” she said quietly. I scanned the buildings and made a hasty decision. “You lead, I feel better following you, it’s out of my depth to do it alone.” I suggested and she nodded, stepping into a deserted alleyway.
I watched as she spotted a skip bin and ran towards it and jumped, landing agilely on the lid. I followed then observed her actions as she scaled to the roof. Her movements were strong and certain, so I followed also using the windows for foot and hand holds. I arrived just behind her as she landed on the first roof. As I arrived, she was scanning the buildings, and identified the easiest route to where we needed to be, taking off at a run towards the nearest one in the correct direction. She sailed over the roof easily, landing a good distance onto the building. She leaped and pushed herself forward, using her arms and legs to help force her through the air. I copied her movements, noticing that I was able to throw myself further than the last time we had done this. She was already scanning quickly for the next best leap as I landed beside her. I managed to keep up, impressing myself...and hopefully her. Finally, we reached one of the buildings that she had marked for escape routes. We began dismantling the traps we had laid, leaving the remains scattered on the roof before jumping to the next building. Finally she stopped. I looked around and realised we were standing on the building that she could have been trapped on. I was instantly alert, watching her and scanning the surroundings.
“This is the one he was on…” she motioned at the fire escape where a trap was set. I eyed it with distrust. “He may have tampered with it to turn it on us,” I sighed warily. She shrugged and pulled her backpack from her back. Opening it, she scavenged for something then the next thing I knew, she threw a pottle into the middle of the trap, breaking it apart. “If it was tampered with, it should be fine now.” she sighed and made her way over to the remains. Reaching them, she kicked them warily with her toe. I appeared behind her and wrapped my arms around her. “There’s not much here to tell us how he got past it,” I murmured. She nodded weakly. “I’d been hoping for something that could hint at his identity.” she sighed.
“I get that, and it was worth a try anyway. He will slip up eventually and the more we know the better prepared we will be when that happens.” I said soothingly. “Let’s head back to the car and organise our next steps. By the time we get there, it will be around the time we need to start preparing King Kong for his starring role.” I eyed her, pulling a hopeful face as I did and delighting in her resulting laughter. “Stop it,” she cringed, attempting to frown. In an attempt to meet her request, I took off running instead, still snickering as I did so.
I was getting a lot more confident in jumping, hesitating less and jumping more accurately and further with each time I tried. I could see why she enjoyed doing this, it was actually rather exciting...once you got over the terrifying 'could fall to own death' fears. Once we had landed on the building closest to the car, I stopped, suddenly unsure of myself. She grinned. “Stuck?” she asked innocently. She really was adorable.
I frowned at her. “Not if you want me to be in one piece at the end of it,” I chuckled. she grinned and wrapped her arms around me. “I need you in one piece,” she murmured. I grinned. “That so?” I asked. she nodded.
“Yep, you gotta pick me up after this meeting today.” she snickered. I groaned. “Is that all I am good for?” I whispered in her ear. “No, you’re good for other things too,” she murmured back. “Completely good for me.” This response had me smiling as I pulled away slightly and kissed her deeply. She pulled away hesitantly, then looked down to the skip bin below, frowning. I wondered if she was concerned for my safety. “I’ll follow you,” I said.
She nodded and lay on the edge of the building, throwing her legs down towards the window sill below. I watched her using the ledges as foot and hand holds and dropping to the bin as she got to a safe height. Mimicking her movements came naturally, which impressed me. “You amaze me,” she smiled as my feet hit the ground. I smiled and took her hand, leading her quickly back to the car with my head down. “Okay, we should organise the meet up. Do you want to text Dan or shall I?” I asked innocently but with a slight note of derision when I said Dan’s name. “Oh, you can do that,” she replied dismissively, grinning slyly. “Oh ugh,” I groaned but pulled out my phone and raised my eyebrow at her. She nodded, grinned and gave me the thumbs up. “Funny, funny girl,” I sighed sarcastically. She snickered to herself as I penned my message. “You will come back to me in one piece so that I can pay you back for that,” I stated as I turned in my seat and pushed her back against hers, kissing her deeply. “I’ll be watching,” I murmured. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I won’t fuck up again,” The deep loathing I had around fucking up had still remained engrained in me.
"Jake...you know, what happened wasn’t your fault. I missed him as well, until I was confronted with him. But remember we had planned the different escape routes well. I will always have the advantage over him up there.” I nodded grimly, gripping the wheel tighter but not saying a word. She couldn't stop me from blaming myself.
“Dan is ready when we are,” I muttered as I pulled close to the prison. She nodded and fixed her hood over her head once more, appearing suddenly anxious. “Look, MC, I know this is hard for you as well, I’m not blind or stupid. I can see it is as stressful for you as for me...but maybe I can help alleviate that some...I may not like Dan...but I trust him,” I sighed. She looked at me questioningly, wondering if I was just saying that to help her. “Look, I am being honest with you. Somehow, for whatever reason, I trust him when it comes to this...maybe not anything else, but for this task, he really does seem to have your best interest at heart”. She smiled thankfully, understanding just how hard that was for me to admit.
“Here, take this,” she said, handing me her phone and backpack. “I don’t want them taking my stuff.” I nodded solemnly, pressed my lips against hers then turned my back on her. There was no way I would feel comfortable watching her go. As soon as the car door closed, I had my laptop and phone set up, ready to track everything that was happening. I knew she wanted me to track the external cameras, but I wanted eyes inside too, even if it meant opening more windows.
I managed to get set up as she arrived and met up with Dan. I still didn't have ears inside, but watching her made me feel more at ease. When they were finally inside, waiting for Phil, I saw Dan put his hand on hers and snarled under my breath. She moved her hand pretty quickly and I was fairly certain she had flinched, though the camera wasn't very clear. Finally, two guards led Phil towards their table. I watched intently then gasped. Something had caught my eye from the reception area. Fuck.
Part 55
#duskwood jake x#duskwood jake pov#duskwood jakexplayer#duskwood jake x player#duskwood jake x mc#duskwood fanfiction#duskwood fanfic#duskwood jakexmc fanfic#duskwood#duskwood jakexmc#fanfiction#fanfic#duskwood jake#jake x mc#jakexmc#duskwood dan
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Ocean Eyes I
OCEAN EYES MASTERLIST
Word count: 3.9K
SET ON 5x12
A/N: guyssss here is the first chapter!!! i want to thank you all for the positive feedback, the comments and reblogs, likes thank youuu so much!!! hope you guys like the beginning of this story, love love love 💖
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─━─━─「⊱✠⊰」─━─━━─━─「⊱✠⊰」━─━─
They were brought in by the guards in a group of four. Two women at the middle and two tall men, the sons of Ragnar, at the edges.
From your spot, close to one of the great walls alongside with your mother, Judith, and your brother, Aethelred, you took it upon yourself to analyze all of them as you tried to calm down your heart, that was beating incredibly fast inside your chest.
It had been like that ever since the moment Alfred had gone to your chambers, to tell you that he had made a decision regarding the Northmen and that he had a plan. He knew what to do. Although in fear, you trusted your brother. More than anything or anyone in the whole world.
And also, your grandfather had prepared him to make tough decisions like that one. He had given Alfred his every ruling knowledge, the wisdom of a great King. If someone could ensure your family prevailed, that person was Alfred.
"I am aware of who you are" Alfred's voice filled the great hall. On the throne, with Bishop Heahmund standing by his side he looked a lot like Ecbert, when he used to make announcements with Bishop Edmund's Christian council. "I'm not foolish enough to not recognize your potential for my kingdom" just like you, he ran his eyes through the four of the Northmen as he spoke. Not in threat, but respect. "If you were willing to fight with us against the armies of your countrymen"
After hearing your twin brother's words, the men who was closest to where you were standing, Ubbe, the son of Ragnar, smiled and looked at the ground with a silent laugh escaping his lips. That disturbed you, made you feel even more worried about what Alfred would try to do, what agreement he would propose to them.
As if he had sensed your intense stare, the man, Ubbe, turned his head slightly and fixed his eyes right back at yours, in retribution for your own gaze. His eyes were blue. So deeply blue.
"We may" Bjorn Ironside spoke for the first time at the other edge of the group and that broke the eye contact you and his brother were exchanging. You swallowed hard because of how nervous that look had made you feel. "On the condition, that you allow us to settle in the part of East Anglia King Ecbert gave to us"
Aethelred huffed, and you wished to hit him for that, having a second reason to apologize for afterwards. Bjorn Ironside's tone was already threatening enough and worthy of caution. You all did not need him to think he was being disrespected.
Luckily enough, the Northmen did not notice that.
"I have every intention of honoring my grandfather's pledges" Alfred made that very clear to the blond man, clenching at the throne's arms like they were his support. You admired him. To have such coldness and calmness to deal with the same people who had killed thousands of Englishmen before, that was something worthy of admiration. "But first you must demonstrate your worth and your loyalty to our cause in battle"
Exactly like Ubbe had done before, Bjorn Ironside laughed and looked down at his feet, licking his lips in something that came close to amusement. Again, it made you worried. More than you already were. If they did not accept the deal Alfred was offering, their fate would be prison or death. And even though the sons of Ragnar were at war, you doubted that absolutely no one would seek revenge for them. That was the way with them.
"We have the legal right to that land" Bjorn raised his eyes again and they pierced Alfred like blades, such was the ferocity in them.
You knew what your grandfather had done in the past to his people. How he had killed all the people in the settlement he had gave them to live in peace. How he betrayed Ragnar and Lagertha's, the older woman who now stood in that hall, trust. You knew that in the verge of his death, your grandfather was not proud of that decision. Perhaps he did not regret it, but he for sure resented it. So, as much as it cost you to admit, you understood Bjorn Ironside's clear doubt in your brother's words.
"We accept your offer" Lagertha surprised everyone by saying it.
Instantly all the eyes in the hall were on her. Bjorn Ironside and Ubbe turned their heads to her and Bjorn mostly, seemed angry by her jumping to decisions, especially one that seemed too reckless as to trust again, a King of Wessex. And although they clearly did not agree with her, both of the men did not argue and she did not pay them any attention. She made the decision and they accepted it. You could not help but admire her determination and influence over them.
"I am glad" Alfred sighted, in relief. You knew very much your brother was not someone who supported violence or the wrongs of people in the past. Although he had been raised by your grandfather, he was not Ecbert. He would not make the same mistakes or break his promises. And although you did resent Ragnar's sons for your grandfather's death, you felt relief as well for that deal. They had wanted to avenge their father, that you could understand. But still, the pain of your loss made it difficult to acknowledge it out loud. "It was Bishop Heahmund who proposed this solution which seemed to me wise"
Slowly and respectfully, Heahmund turned his head a bit and nodded in Lagertha's direction, a sign of respect and duty. She did the same to him. And even though their movements were stern and cold, you could swear you saw a spark in both of their eyes. Something hidden there, carefully.
"So" Alfred regained his speech and that made you stop paying attention to the woman and the Bishop. "As long as we are allies and friends you are free to use the royal villa as you wish" at the back of the hall, you saw some of the Lords who were a part of the Witan, exchanging horrified looks. "My servants are also your servants. My kitchens and cellars are there for your use. I believe you have two young children with you"
That, made you turn your head completely and focus on your twin. He had not told you about that. The thought of young children in the cells of the palace, cold and hungry, made your stomach twist and shame take the whole of your being.
The other woman, the one who had not spoken at all since they had been brought before the King, nodded her head confirming his words. Instantly, for the look in her eyes, you knew she was the children's mother.
"Let us have a care for them also" Alfred stated and the woman's face seemed to light up gratefully like she had just received the best news in the world.
"Thank you, Lord King" she said with the utter most respect.
Alfred turned his head to the corner of the room and with one of his hands, made a sign for one of the guards to step forward. "We have fought against you and now we shall fight together, with you" he said as the guard started to take out the Northmen's chains and release them. "I know my grandfather King Ecbert would approve for I know the love he bore King Ragnar"
At your grandfather's mention, you could not help but feel a sharp emotion run through your whole being. Your eyes got blurry and a tear streamed down your face. Your mother looked at you discretely but did not say a word, just smiled tenderly. You looked down at your feet and cleaned the tear with your fingertips, taking a deep breath to regain your posture. When you looked up, you saw that Ubbe was looking at you again. He had clearly seen you crying and it angered you.
You did not want to seem weak in front of them.
Without any other words, the Northmen were dismissed and left the great hall. Alfred watched them leave, getting up from his throne and taking a few steps forward. All the eyes were on him.
"Can I trust them?" Alfred asked as soon as the Northmen left the hall and the doors were closed behind them.
"You can trust Lagertha" the Bishop answered almost instantly, because he knew the question had been made to him.
Alfred nodded and started to walk away. Before he could though, Heahmund called for him to solve one more matter. As they discussed it, you felt your mind slip further away by every instant passed.
"If you would excuse me, my King" you bowed to your brother and only after he nodded, giving you permission to leave, you turned away and did so.
─━─━─「⊱✠⊰」─━━─━─━─「⊱✠⊰━─━─
You walked through the corridors of the palace, one long corridor after the other, looking for Alfred. You had just met his soon to be wife and she seemed to be a good person, so it gave you some joy. At your mother's request, you had the responsibility to take Alfred to meet her as soon as possible.
You had already searched his chambers and others rooms, but did not have any luck. So, your feet got you to the corridor on the south side of the palace, which lead to a room you knew Alfred liked to be in sometimes. The view from the windows calmed him, he always said.
"Brother, are you here?" you opened the doors and entered the room. As soon as you did so, you regretted it. Alfred was there, but not alone. Bjorn Ironside and Ubbe were with him and the tension in there was anything but calm. All their eyes fell upon you and you sighted for your own stupidity. You should have assumed he would be settling matters with them regarding the new alliance. "I am sorry to interrupt"
"(Y/N), what is it?" Alfred interrupted the matter to give you attention. To him, there was nothing more important than you.
"The Lady is here" you said and he understood of whom you were talking about. Ubbe and Bjorn Ironside just stayed silent, both of them with their eyes still on you. You did not stare back to any of them.
"If you just wait for a moment, sister, I will accompany you and go meet her" he suggested and pointed to an empty chair on the other side of the table, across from him. You nodded and just when you sat down at that chair, he looked at Ubbe. "Please, continue"
It took a moment for the son of Ragnar to speak and risking a quick glance, you saw that he was looking at you. As soon as your eyes met his though, he averted his quickly like you were intimidating. That made you frown.
"Now, you are the King" Ubbe slapped Alfred in the arm with a forced smile on his lips and walked towards a near smaller table, grabbed a writing quill and ink and placed it in front of Alfred, next to a document you assumed to be the one that 'proved' the Northmen's claim to East Anglia's lands. You knew that was a lie, also. Your grandfather had already given the crown to your father, Aethelwulf, when he signed the document and therefore, had no legal right to give them those lands. "So, you can sign it over to us and you can grant us those lands right now"
You noticed how Alfred sighted heavily. "In theory, yes, I could"
"What does that mean?" Bjorn Ironside raised his hands in the air, exasperated. You had to admit that he scared you. A simple word said in a higher tone by him made your heart beat faster.
Alfred placed one of his elbows on the table and leaned towards the blond. "There are important people here who do not want me to grant lands to those who in the past, have attacked and raided us"
"So why would we fight for you when everything you say is just a lie?" Ubbe placed his hands on the table between his brother and Alfred, the expression on his face made you wish to tell your brother to have caution.
"I am not lying" Alfred turned to him with a expression as serious as the Northmen's. "I am being more honest with you than you have any right to expect!" he looked at Bjorn and then back at Ubbe. He seemed so strong, facing the older men as an equal in strength, that you felt a burst of proud run through you. "You have thrown yourself upon my mercy. So, do not presume anymore upon my charity" he got up from his chair and you instantly did the same. "When I can, I will grant you that land. In the meantime, I must go and meet my future wife"
So together, you and Alfred left the room. The both of you could sense the Northmen's eyes burning holes in your backs.
─━─━━─「⊱✠⊰」─━━─━─「⊱✠⊰」─━─━─
"I think what troubles Bjorn Ironside the most is that he lost the war against his younger brothers" with arms crossed over your chest and your back against the wall behind you, yours eyes were on the ground beneath your feet as you thought deeply about the last few days where everything had changed.
"Yes, I can see that. But I suppose we cannot blame him for having suspicions about us. Our grandfather betrayed them in the past" Alfred had his eyes sat on the fireplace, thoughts lost in the flames. "I really wish this alliance to work, my dear sister"
"Me too" you said but noticed that Alfred had fixed his eyes on your face and searched for something hidden in there. "What is it?"
"I thought you would not want them here. Because of grandfather and what the sons of Ragnar did. Honestly, I wondered if you would support Aethelred if he suggested we should punish them" he admitted, and the supposition made you shrug.
"I thought about it" the fire, crackling, was the second sound in the room behind your voice. You could feel the cold of stones in your back through the thin cloth of your dress. "But our grandfather was not perfect like I thought when we were just children. He made mistakes. He should not have handed Ragnar Lothbrok to King Aelle. He should not have killed those poeple in the settlement he promised to leave in peace. How can I blame Ragnar's sons for seeking revenge for such things?"
"I am glad you think so. I share your opinion on the matter and that is why I wanted you to be here, not mother or our brother" Alfred opened up a smile to you.
His statement made you frown. "Why would you want me to be here?"
"We are expecting a visitor right now. I sent one of my men to bring him here. You are very wise, my sister, so I will need to hear your advice on this as much as he wil" Alfred's eyes went back to the flames.
"What visitor, Alfred?"
Before he could answer, the doors of the room were opened and Ubbe walked in, seeming unsure if he should keep on walking or not. He looked around, saw no one but you and your brother and the confusion and uncertainty on his face seemed to grow by the instant.
But he walked towards you both anyway, stood a few feet away as Alfred turned around and like you, placed your eyes on the Northmen. You found yourself struggling to look away from the son of Ragnar. Again.
During the earlier feast, your eyes had met his many times, for no reason at all. When you would look, he would already be looking. When you were looking and he would notice, you turned away quickly to try to distract yourself. There was just something about him. He was not like Bjorn Ironside, with all his anger. Nor like Ivar, whom you had met when you were just a little girl. There was something different and intriguing about him. Captivating, even. Not that it did make you trust him, though.
"You asked to see me" he frowned at Alfred, joining his hands in the front of his body casually.
"Yes" Alfred quickly agreed. "Please, sit" he pulled the chair at the table a little back and motioned for Ubbe to sit. Still suspicious, the Northmen did not move, just sighted. Alfred accepted the defeat by clearing his throat. "Some wine?" he poured some into a cup and helding it in hand, turned back at Ubbe. You just stayed still and waited as you did not know what was happening. "I think your brother Bjorn has set his heart against me"
"He feels..." Ubbe started, thinking about it for a moment. Then shrugged. "betrayed"
"I understand that. But what can I do? It was not of my doing" Alfred averted his eyes for a moment and sighted. "And for the time being it is not easy for me to grant you those lands. Many are against it"
"So what are we supposed to do?" Ubbe questioned, still not seeming to see the point of that private reunion of the three of you.
"A consilium" you spoke, having finally understood where Alfred was going with that sudden meeting. It made sense. He knew that alone, against the two of you, Ubbe would more easily see reason. Ubbe's eyes were on you in that moment, and your arms fell to the sides of your body graciously as you walked closer to the both of them. "You could publicly renounce your pagan gods and be baptized as a christian"
Ubbe seemed shocked, by the way his gaze kept holding yours until the point he averted his eyes and sighted. "I can't imagine Bjorn would ever agree to that" he turned away to leave, but Alfred stopped him.
"I am not talking about Bjorn, but about you" Alfred's tone was stern enough to make Ubbe turn back around and stare at the both of you. Motioning for the wine, he came closer. Alfred poured a second and third cup. One he gave to Ubbe and the other, to you. "You do that for me, Ubbe, and a part of my burden is lifted. Ragnar talked to me and my sister when we were children. He talked about your people and my people sharing the land"
"And we think that of all of his sons, you are the closest to him" you said and you saw Ubbe swallow hard, as if the comparison made him proud about himself.
Alfred nodded in agreement to your words. "He told our grandfather that he no longer believed in your gods"
The expression in Ubbe's face changed, and he raised his cup in the air and towards your brother's face. "That is not true"
"Our grandfather told us everything" you spoke again, wanting to take that dangerous attention away from Alfred. "He wanted to prepare us, especially my brother, for times such as this" as the words left your mouth Ubbe put the cup down, and a calmer expression took a hold of his features. "He loved your father, we know that. Your father's death broke him"
"Destroyed him" Alfred completed and in that moment as in many others, you two were working in perfect sinchrony.
Ubbe took a deep breath and leaving his cup at the table, got up and came closer to Alfred and stared deep into his eyes. Afterwards, he did the same thing to you. Stepped so close you could almost feel his hot breath on your skin. But you did not look away or step back, no. You looked up to meet his eyes and held his gaze for as long as he wished to.
"I will need time" he finally stepped back, and only then you allowed yourself to breathe again. Your heart was racing inside your chest like the most scared of horses. "to think about what you have told me"
"Of course. And (Y/N), please will you take Ubbe to the chambers the servants have prepared for him and his people?" Alfred suggested and it surprised both you and the son of Ragnar a lot. Your bother smiled reassuringly at you, he had indeed, told you earlier where he would place the small group of the Northmen. And then, he turned to Ubbe. "Your wife Torvi and the others will already be there, I also asked for some extra food to be delivered, for the children"
"Thank you" Ubbe motioned his head towards Alfred to show his gratitude, then turned to you. "My Lady" it was the first time he spoke directly to you and the respectful tone of his voice, actually made you give him a little smile.
"Please, follow me" you took the front and walked out of the room, Ubbe following you closely behind.
Once in the corridors, you two walked side by side in completele silence. Honestly, you did not know what you could say. You were certain Alfred had made you do this because he wanted you to see if Ubbe would probably accept the consilium, or if he would deny it. You had always been good in reading people. But still... how should you question such a man?
"Can I trust Alfred's word?" Ubbe said, speaking so suddenly that you stopped walking in surprise. The torches lit the corridor just enough to cast shadows on his face and when he also stopped walking and turned to fix his gaze on you, you suddenly realized that you two were completely alone in there. Just you and him.
"Yes, of course" you stated, surprised by the sudden question. You thought the way to his chambers was going to be totally made in silence.
You motioned to start walking again, but he stepped in your way, keeping you from going. Before you could say anything, the Northman's hands were closed around your forearms. Your eyes widened, but you were so shocked that no words left your mouth. His grip was not tight or bruising. It was almost gentle, as his fingetips just laid in your dress, not clenched at it.
Holding you, Ubbe got closer and closer until your chests were almost touching. He looked down at you, as you had to look up to meet his eyes. There was a real question in his expression, hesitation that he seemed to wish to let go. "King Ecbert said my father could trust him and he was lying. So I am asking you, my Lady, if I can trust Alfred. If I do this, become a Christian, will he grant me those lands and let my people live in peace?"
"My brother is not my grandfather" you said a few moments later, when you finally were able to regain your voice. His proximity gave you chills. You saw the doubt in his eyes. "I promise you, this settlement will not end as the other did"
He must have seen the honesty in your expression. The urgency in your voice. His hands slowly let go of your arms and for some reason you missed the warmth of his hands upon your dress.
You did not exchange more words, you just led the way to his chambers and wished him and his family a goodnight of sleep.
In your chambers, later, you felt extremely tired.
Before you fell asleep, the last thing you thought about were Ubbe's eyes. Intense blue eyes. So alive, so captivating.
Those ocean eyes.
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