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#was originally one part but was incredibly long so it will be at least two now
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Soft Astarion Jealousy
Now with part 2!
I love Ascended Astarion because he's horrible but the sweetness of the other end of the spectrum is impossible to deny. He's just so in love and grateful I can't 🥺🥺
So here's some jealousy that isn't psychotic. Well it is but not as bad:
Astarion never expected to be the jealous type. He always thought...well. In all honesty he never thought about the reality of having a relationship. He didn't even think it was possible for him, let alone the idea that he would actually want it. Even with you, even after he admitted a fraction of his own feelings to himself, he never thought that he would be so... possessive. Though admittedly, he had very good cause for it.
Because you were frustrating. So, so frustrating. For some idiotic reason, you simply didn't understand how alluring to others you really were. You were a pretty little thing, yes but that wasn't the problem. It was so much more than that. And he knew that the others wanted you. Every last one of them. Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Wyll, Karlach, Gale, Halsin. All of them like moths to a flame. And that wasn't even counting all of the strangers you had met on your journey, the extras that thought they had a shot with your greatness. They all wanted you in ways that made Astarion seethe. And the desire from others wasn't even the kind that he was used to, the kind he understood like the back of his hand. Because you didn't need to seduce to cultivate desire. All you needed to stoke the flames was merely your presence. Experiencing you was all that was required for people to know they wanted more.
Astarion knew that the others weren't just looking for a bedmate, they wanted you for the same reasons he had grown to. Your empathy, your desire to understand those around you. Your fearlessness, your infuriating habit of always trying to do the right thing. They wanted you for your laugh, the way your eyes would crinkle in the corners when your smile was too wide. Your silly jokes, your endless hopefulness for a future. It felt as though everyone around saw you for the gem that you were and it was... concerning. Extremely concerning.
Astarion hated thinking about things like this. He loathed admitting the truth to himself even more. But he was...terrified of losing you to someone else. Especially since it could so easily be done. He was so very lucky that you weren't the brightest, or at least not when it came to matters of the heart. You could do so much better than him, a fact that was incredibly obvious to everyone around you. Everyone but you, a luck that Astarion did not take lightly. But how much time did he have before it ran out? Would it ever?
Perhaps it was delusional, but he was starting to think when all of this was over, assuming neither of you perished anyway, that...it could just be the two of you. Living together, exploring the world, even if it had to be under the cloak of night. Maybe... maybe the two of you could even find a cure for his unsavory condition. The thought itself was incredibly stupid, but then again, it was just as idiotic to believe that there was a cure to the Mind Flayer parasite. But here they were, closer then ever. And if that was such an impossibility turned into reality, perhaps a vampiric cure wasn't so impossible. Or maybe even finding an alternative method for immortality for you, without the downsides of his own. Anything that could just keep you both together, for as long as possible. It was an unrealistic dream, that would never come into fruition. If anything it was dangerous, so very dangerous to even entertain the thought of forever. Especially when your connection was so tenuous.
Astarion would never be stupid enough to thank Cazador for anything but...he'd be lying if he said he wasn't appreciative for his own lack of subtly when it came to seducing you. Even if it originally was for distasteful reasons, it still got him ahead of the pack. If he had been less calculating, less astute, there was a sincere chance that you would be warming someone else's bed at night. Callousness would never be without it's uses, even if it led to uncomfortable situations like his current infatuation.
What would he do when you inevitably wanted to leave? How could he survive after having something so...good. Someone so caring, someone who for some very horrifying reason liked being around him. And the sex... it was fabulous. He was a massive fan of your intimacy, when he was capable of participating in it. He adored it, he adored you, your beauty, the sweet noises he could coax from your mouth, the europhia of being inside of you. Then there was the fact that you could be intimate without any traces of it devolving into lovemaking. He had never been gifted with the ability to say no before, so often and so freely without a single fear of punishment. If anything, it felt like he was rewarded when he was honest with you, when he would share his sudden fits of discomfort in his own body, the memories that plagued him and doomed him to staying stubbornly soft. You would never get angry, never even disappointed. You would just listen and smile, always adorable when you would ask, "But I can stay for a cuddle, can't I?"
An extremely silly question, considering the two of you hadn't spent a night apart from each other since you'd made it to the Shadowlands. Yet it never failed to make him melt.
It was getting worse, these feelings. He just wanted you around, by his side, constantly. Constant enough for him to get the ridiculous urge to hiss at anyone else who dared to come near you. He felt an intense need to protect the closeness the both of you had cultivated, the kind that he had never been allowed before. He had no interest in sharing you with your own friends when it came down to it, let alone another lover.
Which is precisely why his original, mild distaste for Halsin turned into a full-blown hatred the night he had the gall to proposition you.
It had felt like a shard of ice going through his chest when you bounded over to him, laughing about one of his greatest fears coming much too close to reality, "You won't believe the conversation Halsin and I just had-"
"Ah, I was wondering when you were going to ask me about that," Astarion laughed, purposefully interrupting you. He had no desire to hear the specifics of that conversation. He didn't even want to be having this conversation, where you were inevitably going to ask if it was okay to explore someone else.
The answer was no. Never would he be okay with it, allowing someone else to be close to what should have been his. But he needed to think strategically here. To say no could be disasterous. If it became a game of choice between him and Halsin... he's almost certain he would lose. Halsin was everything he wasn't; caring, giving, sharing in your worldviews in a way that Astarion never could. He couldn't risk it, he wouldn't. Having you at all was better than nothing.
"But I'd never even consider something like that-"
"It's fine," Astarion interrupts again, the fakest smile he can muster plastered on his face. The pain was worth the risk mitigation, he was sure of that. But... he still had to ask, "But is this because we haven't...y'know, in awhile?"
A sick part of him prays that you'll say yes. Because if that's the reason, he could do something about it. He could force himself if need be to always tend to your needs. Especially if it meant keeping you to himself. It was such a small sacrifice in comparison to the rest of his life. He would do it in a heartbeat if you demanded, anything to just make you stay.
But that was not the answer he received. Instead you frowned, looking him up and down, "What? No, I-Astarion no. Please don't think that. What we have together is so special to me. The physical part of it is lovely, perfect even. But...it's not what we are."
It's almost comforting to hear you say that. But then why did that make the situation feel so much worse? If it wasn't sex you were after then that certainly meant you wanted more with Halsin as well, did it not? But it was too late to rescind it now.
Astarion nodded, a confused mixture of hurt and gratefulness swirling through him, "I just needed to know. But if you're satisfied with me and just want to explore, go right ahead. I'll be here when you're done."
You nodded slowly, brow furrowed when you asked, "So...we aren't exclusive then?"
"No, of course not," Astarion confirmed, ignoring everything inside of him that was screaming for him to take it all back, "We can be as open as you'd like."
"I see..." You said, trailing off with a frown. You coughed into your hand, looking up at him sharply. Sharp enough for him to be sincerely confused, "Does this mean that you'll be speaking to me before you explore your other options?"
"I-yes? If you want?" Astarion answered, a new type of unease settling in his chest. You didn't seem very happy with this conversation, despite his best attempts to give you what you wanted. Where had he gone wrong? Was he already working to throw you into the arm's of another man, without even trying?
You were still frowning at him, your look cold in a way that made him feel particularly ill, "Please do. I'd like to know everything. I'm going to speak to Halsin, get this all sorted. We can talk later."
And then you were spinning on your heel and marching away, like Astarion was the offensive party here. It made no sense. He had done it all right, hadn't he? Agreed to it immediately, didn't make you feel guilty, had tried to be what you wanted. How had he failed?
He didn't wait around to see you go to Halsin. Instead he went straight back to his tent, closing the flap as he laid down. Great. Fantastic. Now he would have to be aware, perhaps even hear you being with another, while simultaneously reliving that horrid conversation in his head for the entire night. The hurt and worry was making his mind wander to uncomfortable places. Perhaps...Halsin could be dealt with in another way if things became too serious between the two of you.
Would poisoning the man be too extreme?
But before Astarion had the time to start thinking of a more detailed plan he was interrupted. Suddnely, moonlight was filling his tent, with your silleoute shining in the darkness.
He blinked up at you, confused, "What are you doing here?"
You frowned at him, looking hesitant in the entry way, "Should I not be? I thought-I can go if you'd like."
"No!" Astarion blurted out, loud and desperate enough to make him cringe. He cleared his throat, trying again, his voice still a touch too pitiful for his liking, "No, no, come here darling. Of course you're always welcome. I just assumed you would be busy."
To his relief you listened, crawling into the bedroll next to him. Astarion didn't waste any time in wrapping his arms around you, relieved to humiliating degrees that you had chosen to come back after the deed. Though...you didn't quite smell as he had thought you would. There were no traces of the floral, woodsy smell of the druid on your skin. Just the sweet, pleasant scent that he had grown so fond of.
You sighed as he tucked you against him, the warmth of you enough to make him relax for the first time that night. You laid together in a pleasant quiet, one that Astarion was actually scared to disturb. Despite the fact that he desperately wanted to know what happened between the two of you.
But you broke the silence for him, muttering into his chest after the two of you were settled, "I'm...sorry for being snappish earlier. I shouldn't have been. You didn't do anything wrong, and I know I don't own you. I shouldn't have assumed."
Astarion frowned, pulling back to get a proper look at your face. You looked hurt, sad even. Like you were the one who had gotten their heart broken. He could feel a curl of distaste settling in his stomach, annoyed that this felt as though the situation was being placed back to him. He had played his part, perfectly. What more could you ask for? What was there to assume?
"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," Astarion carefully said, his eyes fixed on every micro expression on your face, "What did I do that could have been construed as incorrect?"
"Nothing!" You rushed to say, shame coloring your cheeks, "I was being stupid. You never promised me anything. I just...assumed. Wrongly that we were something we aren't."
That didn't-he-what? Astarion frowned at her, his confusion evident on his face, "What did you think we were?"
You looked uncomfortable, avoiding his gaze when you answered, "I thought that we were...together. Alone. Just us. But if that's not what you want I understand. It's fine-"
"What in the hells are you talking about?" Astarion blurted out, his anger and pain bubbling to the surface, "I haven't done a thing. And we were just us before you decided to galivant off with a bear of a man!"
He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. So much for playing things safely. No, he couldn't even have the self-control to stay quiet. He always had to ruin everything.
But surprisingly, you didn't look angry. If anything you seemed just as confused as he felt, "What? I didn't-we didn't do anything! When did I say I wanted to do anything with Halsin? You were the one saying you didn't care!"
You weren't making any damn sense, "Well why else would you ask me about it?"
"I didn't!" You huffed, glaring at him, "All I was going to say was that he asked me. And I wanted your help on how to best turn him down! And then you jumped at the chance to push me onto someone else-"
"I did nothing of the sort!" Astarion seethed back, "If it was up to me you would never look at another man again! Or woman for that matter!"
It was an odd feeling, to be arguing while holding each other so closely. But Astarion had no intention of letting you go anytime soon, even if he could feel you squirming against his ironclad grip when you fumed at him, "Then why would you say it was okay?!"
"Because I don't want you to leave me!" He shouted back, loud enough to snap him out of his own anger. All of his fury was instantly replaced with fear. Gods, why had he felt the need to say that? To lay his biggest insecurity out on the line. Why not just hand you a stake while he was at it, since he was so eager to give you the tools to destroy him.
But you were still seething, hissing back at him, "Why praytell, would I leave the man I've been in love with for months? Hm? Please, explain it to me!"
Astarion couldn't. He was too busy being shell-shocked at the confession, feeling too many emotions at once. Joy, relief, somehow even more fear than before. You so freely said the words that he had done his damndest to bury, to ignore. But now they were out there, filling him with a horrifying joy.
He wanted to say it back. He did. But he couldn't get the wrecthed words out. Instead he was just staring at you like an imbeicle, his mouth hanging opening at the confession.
But his silence didn't make you falter. Instead you looked determined, near fierce as you grasped his face into your warm hands, "I love you Astarion. You don't have to say it back. That's not what this is about. But I want you. And only you. If you want the same of me then you must tell me. Now."
Astarion let his hands flutter over your wrists, humiliating tears prickling at his eyes. But at least his vocal chords allowed him to answer you this time, "I do. So much more than you know. I want us. Just us. No one else."
The words were flowing out of him, too fast and sincere for him to make the appropriate edits in his head. He was saying too much, feeling too much, giving too much. But the way your eyes brightened at his words, the way you grinned at him before pulling him in for a sweet kiss made it suddenly feel like he wasn't giving anything up at all.
As much as he loathed to admit it, Astarion was exceedingly grateful for Halsin's existence after that night. He would never have had the gall to demand you to himself without a trigger, without the anger you both shared at being misunderstood. Because now, you were his. His alone, the proclamation coming from your own lips. And he was free to stop hiding how much he had wanted it. How willing he was to do anything to keep it. He let himself off his own leash after that, leaning completely into the mutual ownership you had of each other. No more would he silently sit back and seethe as a stranger flirted with you. No, now he'd be upfront and center, with a possessive hand around your waist as he glared them down, more than prepared with a confidence-shattering quip on his tongue.
He started to let all of his urges seep through, taking full advantage of your willingness. If Wyll looked at you for too long at the fire, with a touch of something that Astarion didn't like in his eyes, he'd effortlessly pull you into his lap onlookers be damned as breathed you in. If Gale suddenly had a suspect offer to teach you some new magic in a secluded location, Astarion would invite himself, impervious to any glares sent his way. And when he felt as though all of them were being a bit too flirtaious, he was more than happy to put them in their places at night. Spending hours upon hours making you scream his name in bed from pleasure, loud enough for everyone to hear and know exactly who you belonged to.
He couldn't care less if it added to his own unpopularity amongst their merry-band of rejects. Their opinions didn't matter. Not when you were eating all of the sudden attention up.
You let him do it all because you understood him, in ways that no one else had bothered to before. You knew who he was, what he wanted, the extent to how much he craved your attention. And you let it all happened, reveled in it even. The intense shows of affection. Because you loved him. And he loved you. And one of these days he'd allow himself to admit the obvious.
But for now, he had what he wanted. What he needed. And in the first time in his life, even with disgusting tadpoles squirming his his brain, Astarion was actually...happy.
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bunni-v1 · 8 months
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Heyyaaa
May I request dorm leaders finding out you’re a girl please? If it’s too much u can make a part 2
Dorm Leaders Find Out You're a Girl?!?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)
TW: Mentions of transphobia (nothing awful, just literally dropping the word lol); Idia is creepy
Info: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus x Reader (Platonic or Romantic); Fluff, Comedy(?)
🍓This one is gonna be long, like 5.3k words long. I love writing the dorm leaders so damn much <3 Besides, there’s been a long wait for this one, so I hope I make it worth it! You might see some favoritism shine through, but I did my best to keep it even. Hope you all enjoy!
Tags: @kierancaz @danchann33 @arashrita @the-ace-reader @akiyamasmizuki @kitsun369 @bloomstruck (I think I got all of you)
First Years
Ortho Sebek
Second Years
Third Years
-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?
-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.
-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.
-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)
-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)
-So how do you two do it?
-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.
-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.
-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)
-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.
-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 
-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.
-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.
-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.
-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!
-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.
-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…
-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.
-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course).
-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.
-So… how do they find out?
Riddle
-Riddle is the last student in Heartslabyul to find out.
-It’s not like he did anything to you for you to hold off on telling him (you know, other than the whole almost killing you that one time thing), it’s just that you don’t feel inclined to tell him. 
-Simple as that.
-He also really has no reason to question your gender. 
-Riddle didn’t have must interaction with people his own age until he came to night raven college, he doesn’t have the same social ideologies as other people do.
-Nightraven college is really his first touch with society outside of his mothers very watchful, conservative eye.
-So, excuse him for not picking up on stupid little gendered norms that the other students do.
-In his eyes, you dress like a man, you act (sort of) like the other male students, and you prefer he/him pronouns. 
-There’s nothing more to it then, right? If you identify as a man, he has no reason not to treat you as such - nor should he suspect you would hide your gender like that.
-Besides, this is an all boys school! Crowley wouldn’t allow you to attend here unless you were also a boy… right?
-He is aware there are exceptions — and you are already QUITE the exception, but surely Crowley wouldn’t be so cruel as to force a young woman to attend an all boys academy.
-Ah, sweet Riddle, ever in denial.
-He isn’t STUPID though. He notices how brotherly Trey is to you. He knows (and has heard) your many “secret sleepovers” with Cater.
-He ignores these things and doesn’t comment on them simply because, well, he likes you!
-He helps to tutor you sometimes, and he’s gotten to know you through that, and he really does come around on enjoying your presence.
-So, he ignores Trey and Cater’s odd behaviors for your sake.
-You keep him and his dorm members in high spirits, why would he want to shoo something like that away?
-He doesn’t really questionthings until he… overhears a conversation between Deuce and Ace. (A rather loud one, for how supposedly secret this topic was meant to be).
-One of them had gotten in trouble with a professor, and he was going to give them a stern scolding when he overheard what they were talking about.
-“Deuce, dude, you’re gonna want to sit down for this one.”
“What is it, I’m busy trying to finish my potionology homework.”
“Seriously this one is crazy, you’re not ready for for it.”
“Ace, if you’re just messing with me I’m going to leave.”
“Dude, the prefect is a girl.”
“…What?”
-Riddle did not bother the two after that. In fact, he just walked back to his room to sit and think about what he just overheard.
-It DID make sense. You didn’t quite fit in with everyone else for reasons outside of your otherworldly origin.
-You acted differently than the typical guy here at NRC, and you seemed to get along with the peers that were more ‘traditionally feminine’ best.
-It would explain Trey’s coddling and Cater’s secretiveness.
-Still, he didn’t want to assume. This was Ace and Deuce, and Ace could just be messing around with Deuce.
-So, at your next tutoring session, he broaches the subject as politely as possible.
-“So, prefect, I have… overheard something that I wanted to ask you about.”
“Oh no, am I in trouble because of Ace and Deuce again.”
“Not… technically… I did, however, overhear them talking about… you being a woman.”
“…I’m gonna kill them.”
“I could collar them for you, if that would help.”
-The confirmation was reassuring for Riddle in multiple ways. 
-1) Ace isn’t as terrible of a person as the thought he was.
-2) He wasn’t crazy in noticing the slight differences in you and your other peers.
-Now, you and Riddle aren’t exactly super close by any means, so your interactions with each other are limited to when you’re either being tutored or with friends in Heartslabyul.
-However, he is notably more nervous than he usually is.
-He doesn’t have some super secret crush on your all of the sudden, he just… never really had a chance to interact with women before.
-His mom kept him very sheltered from the opposite gender, so he has little to no experience with them.
-On top of that, because of his mother, he does have a slight fear of women. He’s afraid he’s going to upset you and you’ll blow a fuse on him or something.
-You have to assure him that you don’t bite and you won’t suddenly start screaming at him for no reason, and then he begins to relax a bit.
-Still, he’s very sweet and gentlemanly to you.
-If you need help with anyone around campus, you should come to him and he will have them dealt with accordingly.
Leona
-Leona “Respects Women” Kingscholar.
-Leona has SLIGHTLY worse smell than Ruggie, but he also knew immediately upon your arrival that you were a girl.
-In fact, he knew you weren’t a trans man, because they smell distinctly different from the typical woman.
-There aren’t many trans people in the Savannah though, so Ruggie not being able to pick up on that doesn’t really shock him.
-Leona, however, has smelled and seen plenty of trans people in his life time — you aren’t one of them.
-He won’t lie, he’s definitely interested in you. Women where he comes from are big and strong and proud, you’re just kind of plain.
-He keeps his ever curious eye on you though, because he’s interested in how you might navigate this whole thing.
-Now don’t get it twisted, he doesn’t care about you, he’s curious about you. 
-If you were to ask him for help on something, he wouldn’t offer it. (Not that you would, you seem particularly averse to him).
-However, if he were to see some creep trying to… well… creep on you, he’d chase them away without ever having you know he did.
-He was your secret bodyguard who wouldn’t admit it even if you held a knife to his throat.
-Still, he stayed out of your way and you stayed out of his. 
-A symbiotic relationship that you weren’t even aware existed… until you got in his way.
-Like Ruggie, when you start getting a little too involved in his ahem business, he gets pretty damn annoyed.
-You’re not exactly a threat to start, but you are a little trouble maker. If you find out what he’s up to, you’ll ruin his plans completely, and he can’t have that.
-However, he’s not exactly comfortable “taking care of you” like he is his male peers.
-He respects women, okay, you can’t blame him for not wanting to purposefully hurt you. (If his mom and brother found out, he’d never hear the damn end of it)
-He sends out Ruggie to scare you off, explicitly telling him he can’t hurt you on purpose.
-He knows Ruggie already has an idea of what’s going on, so he doesn’t have any qualms with telling him to be careful with you.
-Still, despite all this, he doesn’t really broach the topic until he’s forced to.
-He’s made it known to you, at this point, that he knows your secret. 
-He hasn’t caused you any extra trouble since his overblot, and he keeps his dorm members off your back, so you have no reason to interact with him… until, again, you get yourself into trouble.
-This time it’s YOU dragging him into your mess, despite him wanting nothing to do with it.
-You are convincing, though, so he gives and allows you to stay in his dorm room — rent free! Isn’t he so nice.
-Jack offers himself for protection if you need it, but you can see that Ruggie is quite bemused with the whole situation, so you decide to turn him down.
-Leona hasn’t tried anything yet, and he really could if he wanted to.
-You decide you can trust him. (You have to trust him).
-Then presents the issue of sharing a bed.
-Leona isn’t a weird pervert, okay. He isn’t absolutely leaping at the idea to be in bed with you — he’s so sorry.
-Honestly, it makes him a bit… uncomfortable.
-Sharing a bed is something you do with family or someone you’re involved with, not the weird magic-less kid who’s at least three years too young for you.
-So, Leona, ever the women’s rights activist, approaches you with a proposition.
-“Listen, I know you’re a woman and I know you know that. We’re not sharing a bed, there ain’t no way that’s happening.”
“Oh, so would you like the poor helpless homeless woman to sleep on the floor? How cruel can you be Leona.”
“Shut up, I’m not gonna do that to you. Listen, you can have the bed all to yourself and I’ll sleep on the couch, so long as you promise not to tell a single soul about this.”
“I promise.”
-You immediately tell Ruggie the next morning, and he is sure to make sure Leona never forgets it.
-Living with Leona for the short period of time that you do is very insightful!
-He’s actually pretty funny, much smarter than he lets on, and almost brotherly to you. Which does not fit the M.O. you built of him in your head.
-He’s gruff and pushy, but he does it out of genuineness.
-You end up getting really close to him because of it. 
-His quiet and laid-back demeanor are a break from the chaos of everyone else on campus, and he doesn’t make a big deal out of anything so you can just complain and he nods along unbothered.
-Only thing you notice that upsets him is when you bring up guys who bother you.
-Those guys tend to stop bothering you shortly after. How strange…
Azul
-Azul is hands down the last person on campus you want knowing about this.
-Riddle, Ruggie, Trey, Cater and pretty much everyone with half a brain tell you to stay as far away from him as possible.
-You see him in the halls sometimes, and he doesn’t look to bad. Unapproachable, sure, but he’s a rather pretty guy. Well put together and seemingly very smart from what you’ve been told.
-He helped to subdue Grim in the opening ceremony, so you know he’s magically capable. He’s also a house warden, so that goes unspoken, I suppose.
-He seems interested in you, from what you can tell. He always waves at you when he does see you in a sort of fake friendly kind of way. 
-You’ve seen him and his little (large, very large) goonies admiring ramshackle before.
-You’ve also politely asked them to not do that when you moved in, because it freaks you out a lot. To which they all gave you very eerie smiles and walked away.
-They remind you of a very small mafia, and you decided to heed your friends warnings because of that.
-You do so successfully for a long time too. Other than the few previously stated interactions, Azul seems un-inclined to bother you, and you don’t want to catch his leering eyes.
-Little do you know, Azul has a much more watchful eye on you that you initially thought.
-Sure, you don’t have much to offer him magic wise, but you have ramshackle. Oh, how he wants ramshackle.
-You are key to obtaining it, he just… has to find something on you first.
-You’re so painfully average. Perhaps a little more pretty in the face than his other peers, but you sacrifice that with the atrociousness of your uniform. 
-Truly, nothing about you is different.
-He almost gives up until Grim delivers him an opportunity in a pretty little bow.
-You agree to his contract out of the goodness of your heart, just like he knew you would. So sweet and kind are you, to practically hand him the deed to ramshackle on a silver platter.
-He notices, however, that Jade grows a very… sudden fascination with you.
-Sure, he told both Jade and Floyd to keep and eye on you and keep you in like, but for Jade to be so interested… very odd.
-Then, shortly after, Floyd’s own interest is piqued. Alright… less odd than Jade, but to have both of their eyes on you must mean he’s missing something. (I know I previously said that Floyd found out after Azul, but I was stupid and wrong and you should never listen to me when I’m talking about Floyd).
-He tries to get it out of them by any means, Asking, blackmailing, manipulation. He really does try, but their lips are sealed tight.
-It frustrates him to no end that they know something he doesn’t, and that he can’t figure out this very big secret.
-It stumps him for so long, because he’s looking in all the wrong places for the answer.
-Meanwhile, you know that Jade and Floyd know and you are TERRIFIED waiting for Azul to use this against you.
-The suspense starts killing you and making you anxious enough that its affecting sleep, so you decide to bite the bullet and arrange a meeting with him.
-Azul is honestly delighted, because he was just going to outright force the truth from you at this point.
-“I’m glad you set up this meeting, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
“I know… I’ve been pretty nervous about it since Jade and Floyd started pestering me.”
“Before I talk about what I want to, I’d like to hear what you have to say. I’m a good listener after all.”
“Too good, if you ask me. Uhm, anyway, so I know that Jade and Floyd to you that I’m a girl already, but I’m really hoping you would just leave me be. You owe me after all.”
“…You’re a girl?”
“Did they not tell you…?”
-what. What? WHAT?!?!?!
-How could he not tell, he feel so incredibly stupid. Its so obvious now that he thinks about it.
-No wonder Jade and Floyd wouldn’t stop teasing him about it.
-He agrees not to let the secret out — he DOES owe you his life, after all. This is a minor trade.
-However, he does not mentally recover from this revelation for a while.
-He doesn’t treat you very different, I suppose. He’s more gentlemanly with you, and is generally more friendly, but those things come from saving a persons life regardless.
-He is, surprisingly, willing to ensure your whole gender thing doesn’t get out so long as you work a few hours at the monster lounge.
-Probably the best at keeping it to himself and making sure it doesn’t get out. You wouldn’t expect any less with Azul, though.
Kalim
-You and Kalim don’t really have much of a chance to interact.
-He seems sweet enough, and you know he’s much kinder than the rest of the dorm leaders, but you don’t really have any reason to interact with him.
-Kalim also doesn’t think too much of you. 
-You caused a ruckus at the entrance ceremony, that’s for sure, but you kinda blend into the background.
-Besides he’s a party animal — constantly hosting these huge parties at his dorm just because he can.
-As someone trying to keep out of trouble and hide such a huge secret… yeah, parties aren’t exactly your forte.
-So, when you get roped in to coming to Scarabia over winter break, Kalim is pleasantly surprised!
-He’s always excited to make a new friend, and you’re pretty infamous around school, so he’s extra excited to get to know you.
-Kalim has no reason to question anything about you, like most other people would.
-However, he isn’t stupid. He has plenty of younger sisters, and he picks up on social queues better than you’d expect.
-He definitely suspects something is off, but he figures you would tell him if something was up. 
-You actually find him quite easy to be around. He’s someone who makes it easy to let your walls down and just relax with.
-Despite his sudden mood shifts, he always makes sure that you’re happy and healthy and doing the best you can be in your position.
-However, you run out of the magical potion that deepens your voice pretty quickly, and you have to go back to dramatically straining your voice.
-You sound sick, honestly, and it makes Kalim worry. 
-He figures that you’re forcing yourself to deepen your voice so you’re still perceived as a man.
-Instead of asking you directly, as Kalim does, he goes to Jamil.
-“Jamil…”
“What do you need, Kalim?”
“Don’t you think somethings… off with the prefect?”
“Off? What are you talking about, nothings off with them.”
“No, I mean… do you think they might be… a girl?”
“…Kalim, that’s very rude to say. You need to be more respectful.”
“…You’re right, I’m sorry. Could we get him something to soothe his voice though, it sounds rough.”
-Kalim is a lot more watchful of you after that. He just… knows something is wrong, but he doesn’t want to be rude.
-It’s actually you who comes to him when no one is around for help.
-“Kalim, uhm, I need your help.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“So, I’m pretty sure you know, but I’m not a guy… I’m a girl, and I really need help hiding it. The longer I’ve been here, the harder it’s been on me.”
-Sweetheart he is, he promises to both help you and keep your secret to himself — and he does both surprisingly well!
-He offers his private bathroom to you so you can shower in peace. 
-It’s honestly the best bath you’ve ever had with all his sweet smelling oils. Your skin feels so smooth and renewed.
-Still, even with this, you still don’t feel safe with anyone else — plus the fact that Kalim has random and horrifying mood shifts. You have to flee.
-And yet you still get dragged into more trouble with the octatrio. You still get exposed to the whole dorm by a crazed Jamil, and now have to deal with the horror that they’ll tell everyone.
-Kalim feels awful, and thus shows his forgiveness in the best way he can: giving gifts.
-You get tons of apology gifts from him in the coming months. Baskets of the best shower stuff you’ve ever had; a new, better fitted but still innocuous uniform; enough tuna to keep grim satisfied for years (and sweets that you happily keep to yourself).
-It’s so nice, but you start to feel bad. It feels like you’re taking advantage of his guilt, when you’re not really upset at anyone involved anymore.
-You’re welcome at Scarabia any time. None of his dorm members will ever cause you any trouble, and you can dress and act and sound however you want within Scarabia’s walls. 
Vil
-Miss beauty queen himself. We love Vil, we Stan Vil, we adore Vil… 
-Oh my god he’s a pain in the ass though, especially for you.
-He sees through you in an instant.
-Truly, Vil finds you to be more of a little pest than anything.
-You are constantly in trouble, you are magic less, and you decided to needlessly hide your gender.
-The last one is the worst offense in his eyes.
-Vil is someone who does not value gender, but expression. Your gender does not matter as much as your expression, therefore you hiding your expression irks him.
-He’s understanding enough in the fact that he knows you might be doing this to protect yourself, but he finds it stupid and useless, because you’re easy to see through.
-He avoids you, and you avoid him. Simple as that.
-Unfortunately for Vil, you’ve caught Rook’s eye, which means he must sit through many hours of Rook rambling on about his “findings” about you.
-When you tried out for the VDC, he was simply going to turn you and Grim away, but Rook convinced him to give you a chance.
-Rook wanted him to help your reveal your “inner beauty”, though Vil wasn’t sure if you had any of that.
-You wore baggy, horrifically ugly clothing up until winter break. Your hair was constantly a mess. Your skin was poorly taken care of, and the bags under your eyes were as dark as night.
-It almost made him feel bad for you… so despite his better judgement, he decided to invest time in you.
-Vil makes it very clear that he knows what your whole secret is.
-“I am aware of the fact that you are a woman, however, I will continue to use your preferred pronouns since it seems to bring you comfort.”
-He’s very insistent that you allow him to do your skincare AND your makeup whenever you give him the chance.
-Especially when he moves into ramshackle temporarily, he’s very insistent on maintaining your skincare routine.
-He essentially makes your entire nightly routine himself, and is right there over your shoulder making sure you do it right.
-Despite how overbearing it is, you actually make good friends with him through this.
-Being stuck alone in a room with no one but him to talk to forces you two to talk.
-You get to learn why he cares so much about appearances, and he gets to know why you hide to protect yourself.
-“It’s just… easier to pretend, because guys will bother me less that way.”
“I can’t understand why they would bother you. You’ve done nothing to them, so why would they want to do anything to you.”
“That’s the thing, I don’t know either. I just know it’s scary, and I don’t want to deal with it.”
-You move him, honestly. You’re strong even though you’re scared, and that’s beautiful. Thats what true beauty is.
-He helps you embrace your inner self and express that, while still helping you to hide your gender in a way that feels safe.
-You are always welcome at Pomefiore, and you can come to either him or Rook if you have any issues at all.
-It’s like having a big sister, almost.
Idia
-Idia has eyes everywhere.
-Every inch of that campus is (illegally) being monitored by his watchful eyes. 
-When he’s bored in class, he flicks through the cameras to amuse himself — maybe he’ll see someone slip and fall on their ass. That would be funny.
-He’s not really interested in you in particular.
-In fact, he’d like to keep a very far distance between the two of you.
-You’re… intimidating. You’ve fought some of the most powerful mages on campus and won.
-Total final boss energy, not something Idia is interested in being around.
-What he IS interested in is that wittle kitty you’ve got following you around.
-When he’s bored in class, he goes searching for Grim, and where Grim is you are sure to be.
-So, despite his aversion to you, he ends up spending a lot of time watching you.
-He starts to notice… things about you.
-He notices that you seem to put on a tough guy persona around… well… other guys in your class.
-When it’s just you and Grim though? You’re the softest softie he’s ever seen.
-It’s top tier cringe watching you try to being all macho, so he much prefers your more quiet and relaxed self you show in private.
-Seriously though, you’re a TOTALLY DIFFERENT PERSON when you’re alone with certain people.
-EVEN YOUR VOICE CHANGES!!!
-It’s so uber creepy, it’s like a jumpscare every time you drop that fake deep voice.
-If he’s being real, you’ve got a pretty voice. Honestly, you’re really pretty period. Too pretty to be a guy honestly.
-…
-….
-…..HOLY SHIT!!!
-He has to check your medical files to be sure — which he obviously has access to, thanks to having access to everything Ortho has access to.
-Blah blah blah allergies, blah blah blah horrific injuries from overblots, blah blah blah- AH HAH!
-Next to gender you are listed as… transgender man.
-He doesn’t wanna be that weird transphobic incel, but from what he’s seen? He highly doubts that.
-From what he’s seen in his (invasive) watching, you’re definitely doing the troupe of hiding your gender to better fit in.
-He feels like he’s in an anime or something.
-He doesn’t really want to bother you about it — but from watching you, you seem like someone he’d really enjoy being around.
-Ortho also insists that he’d get along with you very well!
-…It’s worth a shot right.
-He tries several times to “bump” into you, which always ends in him skittering away in fear.
-He psyches himself out every time. “They wouldn’t even wanna hang out with a loser like me.” “They’re way too cool for someone as lame as me.” 
-It’s not until you invite yourself to one of tabletop club’s meetings that he’s forced to interact with you.
-He’s really banking on the fact that you’ll be too busy talking with Azul to notice him, but then Azul leaves and its just you and him.
-Him and you…
-Both of you… in total and complete silence.
-…yep… 
-“Uhm, Idia…?”
“yES!?”
“I came here cause I wanted to talk to you, sorry for being so underhanded about it, I just couldn’t get you alone without you running off.”
“AH— I mean, ahem, okay. My bad.”
-You totally cornered him like an evil villain.
-All because you wanted to… be his friend?
-Is he dreaming, going insane perhaps, did HE get isekaied into an alternate universe where he was likable???
-Nope, Ortho just talks him up a lot, and you think his hair is cool. Huh. Kinda lame compared to what he was thinking.
-You guys talk a LOT after that. You exchange numbers and you text him about all sorts of stuff — and he’s actually interested in it!
-You learn that he’s been watching you and Grim for a long time, and while you scold him.
-You think it’s pretty funny that he’s embarrassed about his love for cute things.
-“If you’ve been keeping your eye on me for so long, you must’ve figured out that I’m a girl, right?”
“Yeah, you’re not great at hiding it. That macho guy act is suuuuper lame, you look like a noob lol.”
“Hey! I’m just copying what Deuce told me to do!”
-You guys don’t really see each other face to face very often, but like I said you text a lot.
-Sometimes he’ll text you shit like ‘I saw that, saved it for blackmail.’ After you biffed your shit on the pavement or something.
-When Idia gets more comfortable, you two spend hours on call whenever you get the chance.
-He lends you some of his precious manga, and even gives you an older TV he had laying around so you can watch stuff at ramshackle.
-Sometimes he invites you over to play video games with him and Ortho, and he gets all cocky and proud when you gush about how cool all his tech is.
-And, yeah, Idia definitely forms a little crush on you — but he would do that regardless of your gender. 
-He just likes you a lot, and you can feel safe on campus knowing he’s watching over you when you need it. (Mostly watching Grim, tbh.)
Malleus
-We know that Malleus enjoys… creeping outside of Ramshackle.
-He spends quite a lot of time on your front lawn, therefore, he’s usually in proximity of you.
-However, he is very intimidating!
-As a young woman in a magical world that you are not from, a very tall man with horns is the exact opposite of what you want to be around.
-Besides, you’ve heard the rumors about him — how powerful he is, and how scary he is.
-Malleus, on the other hand, is admittedly curious about you.
-He finds humans in their own right incredibly interesting, but you are not just a regular human.
-You are a human who has no magic and is from another world entirely. 
-You are something he has never once seen in his whole life, so excuse his childish curiosity.
-Still, you’re sort of cleverly avoiding him at every chance you get, and he just can’t quite find the time to talk to you.
-Until one night, you come back rather late and you find him in your yard… again.
-You send Grim in by himself and decide to confront him by yourself, because you are tired of being afraid to fall asleep at night.
-“Hey, you, could you maybe not stare at my house in the middle of the night!”
-Oh. You are quite feisty, and very bold to approach Malleus Draconia with such an aggressive tone.
-“I’m unsure what you mean, I’m simply admiring the architecture.”
“I don’t care WHAT you’re doing, you’re freaking me out! I know you’re supposedly some big scary monster guy, but I need you to STOP being weird outside my house.”
“…My apologies…”
-Malleus is pleasantly surprised at your spunk — he’s never been spoken to like that, he’s excited by it.
-After you yell at him, you let him explain himself, and you realize he is just… really, really bad at socializing.
-He wasn’t watching you, he just really enjoys silence and ramshackle is the quietest place on campus — even with you living in it.
-So, you give him the benefit of the doubt, because he really does just seem like he’s lost on everything around him 90% of the time.
-You don’t hang out with him during the day, but if you happen to see him on your lawn (as he usually is), you go out and hang out with him for a while.
-It makes Malleus happy, because you treat him like a friend. You give him cute nicknames, and you invite him inside for snacks, and you go out of your way to say hello to him when you pass him in the halls.
-He also gets to know more about you, and his curiosities about you and your world get quelled.
-He doesn’t really question anything about you, especially not your gender.
-Gender is hardly important for fae, and you seem confident in your expression, so he has no reason to wonder. Besides, there are far more thrilling things about you than your sex.
-So, you and Malleus start to grow close. So close, in fact, that you can confidently say that he’s one of your closest friends.
-At this point, almost everyone who you want to know about your gender knows. Everyone but Malleus.
-Initially you kept it a secret because you didn’t know how good he was at not talking, but now…
-Now, well, you don’t really have a reason.
-People usually question you at this point, or at least seem suspicious, but Malleus?
-Malleus shows not a hint that he thinks something is up. It’s odd to you, isn’t he supposed to be super smart or something. Maybe he’s just too respectful.
-Regardless, you decided to talk to him about it the next time you see him staring at the gargoyles around campus.
-“Hey Tsunotaro, what’re you up to?”
“Just admiring these gargoyles here, aren’t they fascinating? They were the first few installed in the school, if my memory serves me correctly.”
“They are very cool, but could I ask you something not gargoyle related?”
“What is it, child of man?”
“You know that I’m, uhm, a girl right?”
“Oh. I did not know that, how interesting.”
-He doesn’t understand why you would hide that, but it doesn’t really perturb him that much.
-The most you got was an eyebrow raise, and then he was back to his gargoyles.
-You were pretty satisfied with that, so you figured he wouldn’t tell anyone… and then you hear him loudly talking about it with his friends in Diasomania.
-Sigh… he means well, but he just doesn’t get the social stuff.
-You’re not mad, because pretty much everyone knows at this point, but it still sucks that he’s such a loudmouth.
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forbidden-sunlight · 2 months
Text
yandere!ceo with villainess!reader scenario [part one]
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warnings: suicide attempt/implication, implication of obsessive thoughts or love, workplace toxicity.
There might be potential triggers in this piece. If you do not feel comfortable with reading it, please hit the 'back' button on your phone or laptop and find something much more pleasant to read than a potential series of unfortunate events.
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Hey guys, and welcome to another original yandere oc x series, featuring the good-looking prick and CEO of his family's conglomerate, Yeo Jung-Hwa. This is a collaboration between me and the incredibly talented @deathmetalunicorn1. Special thanks to @pinkgoldweebgirl and @witch-of-the-writing-desk for their honest feedback on the earlier drafts of this project.
Part Two
Part Three
Everyone has heard or watched the famous daily drama, Love and Fortune. Boasting over 124 episodes, it chronicles the romance between a cold-hearted CEO named Yeo Jung-Hwa and a hardworking, kind-hearted employee at his family’s conglomerate named Hyeong Mun-Hee. Of course, no drama is without conflict because that would be a very boring story to broadcast to the world.
 Including the male lead’s family opposing the idea that would marry someone beneath his social status, the villainous Park Seo-yun refuses to break off her engagement to him even when her feelings are completely one-sided. In retrospect, Park Seo-yun had been written as a vicious and incredibly stupid antagonist so that Heyong Mun-Hee’s perseverance through such bullying and her devotion towards Yeo Jung-Hwa were highlighted and touched the viewers with her kind heart. At least that is what you believe after being trapped in the world of this drama for…how long has it been? A year? Three years?
 It was hard to keep track of time when Being X -  that’s the name you gave to whatever is controlling this world like a goddamned puppeteer - would reset everything if you tried to act out of character such as amiably breaking up with male lead so he could be with Hyeong Mun-Hee or trying to overdose on sleeping meds in a desperate attempt to escape. Presently this was your fourth loop, and you were not going to let everything, the hard work you’ve put in, to be all for nothing.
You were going to move forward.
You were going to survive. 
You were going to have a peaceful life once this drama is over. 
Just say your lines and be ready for the next scene. Right?
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According to the drama’s script, the reason that Park Seo-yun worked for the Yeo family’s conglomerate is because everyone thought it would be a brilliant idea for her to see how the business of her future in-laws operated and be prepared to step in if Yeo Jung-Hwa was incapacitated for any reason. In your humble opinion, it is honestly a bad idea for two reasons. One, it isn’t wise to mix business with a marriage, let alone an engagement that is written to be destroyed upon the arrival of the female lead. Two, it just doesn't make sense. Prosperous businesses are supposed to have a qualified Chief Operating Officer, otherwise known as a COO, to implement plans and the direction that the CEO wishes to follow as well as coordinating with other team managers. 
But this is common sense from the real world. You are stuck in a drama and currently the team manager of the conglomerate’s financial department. You might have a nice office in the back where you can see everything, but it barely alleviated your annoyance with Hyung Mun-Hee as she hunched over her desk, texting on her personal phone instead of correcting the mistakes she made on the documents you were supposed to hand out to everyone at today’s meeting; budget allocations, projected growths and downturns, including whether Team Leader Kim Dokja will be able to hire a few more employees that he really needs to help with the IT department’s neverending workflow. 
You know that this is a pivotal scene in both Heyong Mun-Hee’s character development and the beginning of your downfall. You know that after accusing the female lead of slacking off, forcing her to kneel and apologize for paralyzing your department because everyone worked overtime to cover her unexcused absences, this is when the male lead steps in and protects his darling from being bullied further.
To the writers of Love and Fortune: this example of lazy creativity is why your successful series eventually received backlash and everyone demanded a revamped version. In layman’s terms, fuck you assholes for making your job as the villainess a lot more difficult than it should be. 
You already made her kneel and all that jazz in the last two loops and it didn’t do shit. Not this time. You were going to go for a more subtle, professional approach. As long as it seems like you were antagonizing Hyung Mun-Hee because Love and Fortune is written from her point of view, you should be fine. Hopefully. God, you hoped so. 
If you actually got through this scene, you were definitely going to reward the team for their hard work with some baked goods for breakfast or a catered lunch. You haven’t used your infamous black credit card since this loop started. Rolling your shoulders back, you inhaled a slow, deep breath before leaning over towards the printer, grabbing the documents that the female lead emailed to you. You pretended to read them over, eyes narrowing and fingers thumbing through all of them until you reached the end. Rising from your seat, you walked out of the office and addressed the staff, calmly. 
“Excuse me everyone, but may I have a moment of your time?” Your slightly agitated voice caused all seven team members to stare at you with faces that ranged from confusion, fear, and curiosity. You respectfully incline your head. “Thank you.” You held up your little prop in the air for all to see. “Whoever emailed me the paperwork I am to present at this afternoon’s meeting, please come to my office. I have some questions about the context.”
An uneasy silence fell upon the office, making your heart stink. Shit. You needed to improvise and fast before Being X noticed. You sighed, pressing two fingers to the side of your temple to make it seem like you were starting to feel a headache coming on, which funnily enough you were. 
 “I’m not going to bite anyone’s head off, I promise. There are just a few things in here that do not make sense and I’d like to understand before I am to present them as the team leader.” Please take the bait, Heyong Mun-Hee. You thought pleadingly with your eyes closed. If you have any self-respect left or at least feel a little sorry for being lazy, stand up and admit your mistake so that your perseverance shines through in this scene. You’ve done it before, you can do it again. 
When you opened your eyes, she was still sitting at her desk with wide eyes and a flushed face, clutching her phone as if it were a lifeline. Your eyebrow twitched. You have got to be kidding me. You thought sourly. This isn’t how a female lead is supposed to act, let alone an actual employee of a multi-million won company.
 Fine. If she wasn’t going to come to you willingly, then you couldn’t play nice. 
You were about to call her out  when she suddenly stood up and made a beeline towards your office, passing by you and taking a seat in your office. Huh? Isn’t this a bit rude? Unfortunately your role isn’t to ponder why certain people like common decency. So you turned around, walking back inside your workspace and closing the door behind you. Once you sat down behind the dark mahogany desk that was at least twice the size of a normal cubicle, you booted up your desktop and logged into the company’s bookkeeping program before swiveling the monitor around so that Hyeung Mun-Hee could see where she made her mistakes.
“Assistant Manager Hyeung Mun-Hee, I noticed that there were some miscalculations here,” You moved your cursor over one column. “And here.” You moved it to the right. “Here as well.” You moved it back to the left, right in the middle. “The formula you imputed for Columns H to J is incorrect. I want you to refer to your department manual and make the necessary corrections before sending it out to the other departments. I trust you can handle this task?” 
She should be able to. After all, the female lead had a buffer for being extremely intelligent and a math whiz in the script. That’s why she was selected to work here instead of Human Resources, where her communication skills were also top notch. Hyeung Mun-Hee quickly nodded, standing up from her seat and almost bolting back to her desk, still holding onto her phone like a security blanket. Which was a little odd. You don’t remember her being so protective of it in the previous loops. 
You reclined back against your chair. Oh well, no matter. Time to see this house of cards come crashing down in five minutes. Too bad it can’t be longer. But the show must go on, right? She  might be scripted to fail, but you gave her a chance to correct her mistakes. So in the end, it was truly and solely all her fault, not yours. 
Sure enough the phones began ringing off of the hook, followed by shouting from a few of the senior employees. You got a frantic phone call  from Research/Development manager Choi Iseul, asking why the promised budget had been cut in half. Closing out the screens on your desktop, you reassured the poor girl that you would look into this matter immediately before hanging up. She really didn’t need the stress right now at four months pregnant. 
You stepped out of the office, demanding what was going on. All eyes turned to the leading lady herself, her head down and face pinkened in embarrassment. You blinked. “Assistant Manager Hyeung Mun-Hee, what happened? You did fix the report as I had asked, right?” You controlled the tone of your voice, careful to not show anger and annoyance, strictly professionalism. You were pretty sure that you didn’t sound like a vindictive bitch either. But somehow she took your question as her cue to shout at you, to stop bullying her before running out towards the elevator. And right into the arms of the male lead. 
You exhaled a deep breath, running a hand through [Hair Color] tresses before you turned your attention back towards the team. “I need to fix this report and send it off to the other departments or else things will get ugly. I know I’m asking a lot right now, but could you screen the incoming calls? If any of them asks, please let them know I am making the necessary corrections and will email it to them promptly. Disregard the one that they’ve received from Assistant Manager Hyeung Mun-Hee.” 
Everyone clamored in agreement before diving back into their work, some already answering the phones and reciting exactly what you asked them to say as you bolted towards your office, slamming the door behind you. Considering that this isn’t your first loop, you had already taken the liberty of creating the correct report this morning before clocking in at the office. The issues were the same, so it took you all but twenty minutes to adjust and send it out to the managers. 
The calamity that struck evaporated in an instant, and the phones had stopped ringing. To you, it only heralded the opening sequence of the next scenario. Looking up from your phone, you saw two people walk out of the elevator. The female lead was dabbing her puffy face with a checkered handkerchief, standing by Yeo Jung Hwa himself as he got off his own personal device, no doubt finishing his talk with the CFO about his darling’s little fuck up. 
Placing your phone face down on the desk, you watched them glide across the room before the CEO reached your office, opening the door with a frown stretched across his face. 
Yeo Jung Hwa. The male lead of Love and Fortune, blessed with good looks, riches, and has been in charge of the conglomerate since he was twenty years old. A classic tyrannical CEO that almost everyone loved to read or watch because they’d see how soft he was around his lover and wanted that same kind of treatment for themselves. You saw him as more of a cunning snake who knew what he wanted and would use any means necessary to get it.
But whatever. Time to get into character. You thought as you stood up, eyeing the male lead apathetically. “Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you?”
“Explain what happened.” He said, amethyst eyes narrowing at you. Yes, he has fucking purple eyes thank you goddamned screenwriters. 
You raised an eyebrow. “Explain what, sir?” You asked. “The incident that has everyone in a panic?” Receiving nothing but silence from him, you continued. “It’s been resolved. I’ve already emailed all of the department heads the correct report to refer to at today’s meeting. I did tell Assistant Manager Hyeung Mun-Hee to fix the mistakes I’ve shown her,” You glanced at your employee before averting your attention back to the prick. “But when I looked at what was sent out, she did make a few adjustments…just that it only made matters worse and could have cost the company a lot of money.” You crossed your arms, leaning back against your desk. “Her performance was unacceptable, and she is my responsibility as her team leader. Which is why I would like to have Assistant Manager Hyeung Mun-Hee participate in this month’s upcoming financial seminars. A little refresher for two weeks, using her vacation days, and pass the tests so that there will not be a repeat of this incident again and jeopardize the conglomerate. Or would you see this as unfair treatment of an employee, CEO Yeo Jung-Hwa?”
You watched as the male lead looked over his shoulder, glaring balefully at his lover before he turned back to face you. “So be it. I want to see the results of her tests once they are completed and the lecturers aren’t under your payroll, Team Leader Park Seo-yun.”
“With all due respect, they are under your payroll, not mine.” You said drolly. “I don’t care how long it will take for her to complete the classes or to do the coursework. I want results, same as you. I do want to keep the completion certificates. If she doesn’t do it or chooses not to for whatever reason beyond a medical emergency, suspension with pay. No ifs, ands, or buts. Are these acceptable terms, sir?”
He didn’t like it, you could tell. Any event that separated from Hyeung Mun-Hee would put him in a sour mood and become more of a grouch. Kind of like a child having his favorite toy being taken away because he did something bad. But in this situation he couldn’t afford to have a temper tantrum  for obvious reason:
1) Displaying an immature attitude in a professional environment will make him less appealing to the viewers.
2) As previously stated, it was the female lead’s fault that this whole mess happened. He saw the evidence of her major fuck up, the CFO saw it, everyone did. Trying to sweep it under the rug would only incite more rumors of nepotism. He has a reputation to maintain. 
“...Fine.” He spat out. You nodded, seeing him turn on the ball of his foot and stomp out of the room. Nope, he is not happy about this. Neither is the trembling female lead standing in front of you. She really was a pretty woman, with reddish-brown hair falling past her shoulders and hazel eyes glistening with tears. 
“You’re dismissed. I’ll let you know the seminar schedule once I hear back from HR. Please return to work, you still have two hours left on your shift.”  You said, expecting her to go running to the restroom and cry, have a mental dialogue about how things were unfair right now but she will come out on top and preserve as it was written in the script. Except…she didn’t leave right away. She was glaring at you as if you were the most despicable person in the entire world, which you guess holds some truth. 
“You said this is all my fault, but it isn’t because I wasn’t trained properly! Where do you get off, saying such horrible things like this?! Just because you are rich doesn’t mean you have a great personality!”
Your eyes widened in shock. Okay, this scene was definitely not part of the drama in the last three loops. And she’s smart enough to know to not say this, even if the door is closed! 
Let’s be serious. No one should ever talk to a supervisor like this, even if they are an absolute scumbag and you hate their guts. 
“Assistant Manager Hyeung Mun-Hee, you were trained to learn and carry out these tasks during the ninety day trial period after being hired by the conglomerate,” You said as you tried to calm your racing heart. “I showed you the mistakes you made, and it’s clear that you made almost no effort to fix them. If you had, then this incident would not have happened. That is why you are going to sit through those seminars and take notes, or you will be suspended without pay. This is not up for debate. And just because I am rich doesn’t mean you can talk down to people as if you are better than them, myself included. Now leave. And don’t let me hear such vulgar words in here again or I will punish you. Are we clear?” 
“You-“
“Are you going to make me pull up your file and show everyone your certificates of completion from those training programs, the proof that you were trained to do your job and you’ve chosen to let others do your work for you?” You asked. “It’s fine to ask for help from others when needed, but you have to take responsibility for your actions or else you’ll never be able to surpass me.”
You watched Hyeung Mun-Hee’s face turn a darker shade of magenta and the tremors in her petite frame increase greatly before she excused herself. You could see the steam coming out of her ears; whether it was from embarrassment or anger, you weren’t certain. So long as she got your message and you acted your part as the villainess, then that should have met almost all of the requirements needed to move onto the next episode. The remaining factors were  the viewership score and Being X’s approval. 
The viewership score is a daily simple rating system numbered from 1 to 5 golden stars. If the episode reaches 3 and above, you’re clear. If the score is a 2, and Being X did not like your acting or even how everything played out, the loop would start all over again from the first scene. Perhaps instead of puppeteer, it’s more like a perfectionist director whose opinion can also be swayed by the viewership score. If the audience watching this fucked up universe enjoyed what they were watching, they’ll make it known. 
After all, more ratings means more money, even if you’re not getting paid for this.
 The last two loops where this episode happened, you followed the script to the letter without making any improvs. It didn't work out in the end, as you recalled with a frown at the memory. After being forced to kneel on the floor as you had done to her, you watched the lovebirds embrace. Well, at least the male lead was trying to comfort his ‘pure-hearted’ lover when that bitch smiled down at you from over his shoulder. As if she had won the game and you were the loser. Being X didn’t like the viewership scores back then. Now? Well, that’ll depend on whether or not you’ll wake up to the setting of episode 25 tomorrow morning. It’s either that…or finding yourself in the interview room again with Hyeung Mun-Hee during the pilot episode, her job application in your hand. 
Fuck my life. You thought glumly. 
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
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Congratulations, Congratulations, Congratulations!
Important things must be said three times.
The viewership score on Episode 24 has arrived!
Taglist: @nunezs-stuff @imperfectbloodmoon @yandere-dark-cupid @justcressida @cassanderasblog @faesdreaming @faux-ecrivain @abelheilonwife @tired-of-life-86 @tonightwrites @ixchelhernandez4 @aiimee9 @swallowtail-lotus @diannaflight @sweetbatherodonkey @strangepoppy @mochinon-yah @classicdummy @lanxianschoenheit @aman3kkun @beardedblizzardexpert @reiivven @majestichugs
©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024
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easy-there-leftovers · 9 months
Text
I See You, Darling
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[Astarion x reader] The idea never left my mind, and I so very badly need this right now. Heavily inspired by this cutscene where Tav chooses a dialogue option and Astarion's eyes just deviate-- (gif above, just wait for his eyes to look at you WKDKWKDK) |Word count: 2k.| Based off of this post I made.
Part 2 here!!
Also, this is more heavy on the world building rather than dialogue. If I end up making this a series, I might write with more dialogue in mind but it was just necessary to do this first afhjaqfbnjkafbnebn--
A story in which an overworked art student longs for a fictional character that they've devoted so much of their time to.
Alternatively; Astarion realizes there's someone else watching him. And he can't wait to get acquainted with them.
————━─━────༺༻────━─━————
One.
Two.
Three.
It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine. 
You’ll admit, perhaps you were simply tired. Attending a prestigious school for the arts doesn’t exactly leave you with much free time to indulge in more calming forms of recreation. Your course requires you to consume a wide array of media to expand your library of creativity, after all. All in the name of generating more interesting media to entrance and enthrall your audience with your original work. 
Maybe all the moving pictures and swimming texts have caused you to greatly misunderstand what you are seeing. Surely, your favorite character isn’t looking directly at you, right?
Right?
But before that, let’s review what might have happened earlier to explain just what exactly in gods name is happening.
Shall we?
——
You purchased the game a few months back. “Baldur’s Gate 3.” A game that took the players and immersed them in the world of Dungeons & Dragons, introducing them to the mechanics of tabletop RPG as they did. It seemed interesting enough. And if the concept of character creation and storytelling didn’t sell you on the idea of it, the pretty faces on the cover certainly did.
So, with the little money you could spare from your part time job at your own institution’s library, and with what little sanity you had left to argue with, you impulsively bought said game. And it was fun. Exhilarating. Electrifying. 
Until you ran into a problem.
Astarion. The rogue, elven vampire that you have chosen to romance after careful deliberation. You scoffed to yourself. He was one of the biggest reasons why you purchased the blasted game at all. You’ve carefully studied the character in all his glory, from his striking carmine eyes and delicate unstained curls, to his aptitude for bloodshed and all manners of gore. He was such an interesting character, giving you more and more reason to pursue him as the story progressed. Yet the same can’t be said about your relationship with him. Or at least your “Tav’s” relationship with him. 
You’ve had some difficulty in deepening your relationship with the ex-magistrate. It seemed as if no matter what options you chose, no matter what manner of advances you made, he’d be quick to dismiss you. Painting you as a desperate little pup as he did. Denying you the opportunity of further knowing him. You’ve created and overwritten more save slots than you'd like to admit, perusing each one to select different lines of dialogue only to be rejected time and time again.
You thought it strange. But perhaps this was simply the way his route was meant to unfold. He was such an incredibly complex character after all. Perhaps this was meant to prove the party’s loyalty. 
But that didn’t stop you from being frustrated with other aspects of the gameplay. You've spent countless nights hunched on your work chair, back curving like a dead bug as you analyzed each and every possible outcome in combat. Eyes, bloodshot from cutting your sleeping hours short, just to endure the story until you were at an appropriate place to log out. And hair, flicking and curling out in different directions due to you weaving your hands through them in exasperation. 
You saw your reflection on your screen as it darkened to load the next scene and you couldn't help but stare at your character in slight envy. You know full well that however you designed them, it wouldn’t affect how the others perceived you, and yet you couldn’t help but pretty them up for your own interest. You designed it with yourself in mind, but making them far more attractive than you would ever be. Effortlessly beautiful as they stirred to wake up in the forest you settled in for camp.
How could Astarion ever turn this beautiful being away? If not for their heroism, then surely their looks would be enough to draw him in, no?
And speak of the devil. Once you could control your character again, you readied them to interact with your sharply dressed companion. Wanting to try your luck once more as the bright sun shone upon your character like a promise of a new day. Unfortunately, you’re greeted with a look of boredom, oh so familiar, that you sigh. “I hope you’re not here to beg—” Mocking him, echoing the words you’ve come to expect with faux mirth in your voice. But you cut yourself short when you realize he has yet to say anything. 
Strange.
 What’s even stranger is that he's just staring at you. Well,--- he’s staring at Tav. Your character.
“What the fuck…?” You move your mouse around, clicking to try and toggle the dialogue options to no avail, screen stuck in a cinematic close up of his face. Much like how the camera always pans when awaiting your response. 
However, unlike the common script of his actions that you’re used to, the one that you’ve memorized like a well practiced dance, his eyes smoothly glide off of your character and onto you. 
You freeze, but your heart doesn’t. The beating of your chest growing stronger the longer he looks at you. Eyes, blood red like rubies, boring into your own. He regards you, blinks, and then smiles that deviously charming smile of his before your screen turns dark. Your computer turns off, and you stare in shock of what just happened.
‘No fucking way, no fucking way, no fucking way—‘ You’re not delusional, right? Sure, you’re tired, but no fucking way did you just imagine one of the hottest characters you’ve seen in a while break the fourth wall just to fuck with you.
You laugh to yourself.
Yes, you’re just tired. Nothing like a good four hours of sleep can’t remedy. Although, as you get up from your chair, foolish as it may seem, you grab a used shirt from your floor, and hang it on your computer in the case that those piercing eyes come to life once again while you sleep.
——
You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you get ready for the day, you notice your dirtied clothing still on your computer. Covering it as if it were a petrifying doll from a horror movie. You feel childish for doing so, reasoning that you were simply stressed from the events that taken place prior and removed the cloth.
As you did, your screen was brought back to life. Showing you the next night as if your little "tryst" with Astarion never happened. An entire thirty minutes or so of progress seemingly gone. Thankfully, you saved just before your game went haywire and you attempted to load up your last slot. 
Zzzt Zzzzt!
Alas, your game was not cooperating once again. You tried the save just before that and the same error screen presented itself to you. ‘Maybe this is a sign that I should just fucking work instead.’ Irritated at the thought, you moved to log out of the game but a familiar voice convinces you otherwise as the screen returns to normal. 
“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” 
‘Is this— a romance scene?!’ Astarion had never initiated an interaction before! Perhaps the game gods were granting you mercy. Or maybe, something you did last night might have given way for this line of dialogue to open up. Regardless, you happily took the opportunity and began reading your choices.
“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” ━─━────༺༻────━─━
Well. Thank you.
It’s none of your concern, fangs.
Better now that you’re here.
What happened last night?
━─━────༺༻────━─━
What…did happen last night? You don’t recall anything past the blackening of your screen, but it looks like you did something after that which caused this dialogue.
You don’t want to squander this opportunity, who knows when this will happen again, but your curiosity gets the best of you. So you save, and choose option 4. 
“Oh, you poor thing. Spooked you, did I?” He laughs, seemingly taking in the look of confusion that graces both yours and Tav’s face.
“What do you think happened last night?”
“My fucking game crashed.” You answer automatically.
Tav moves to open their mouth but is silenced with a tut. “Not you, spawn.” His eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement, but the way his mouth is pulled in a tightly-lipped smile offers you further insight otherwise. 
“I need your answer.” His eyes are on you yet again, and you feel the world begin to spin.
——
You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you plan to get ready for the day, you notice you’re not exactly in a state to do so. You expected to wake at dawn, the dark and cool air to greet you as it fills your room and envelops your walls. Instead, you wake to see an endless amount of evergreen and the smell of the dark and damp grass beneath you filling your senses.
And if spending hours, weeks, months, of playing this damned game has taught you anything, you know that you now reside in the heart of the forest that you usually set up camp in. But this time, you're far from your bedroll and the fire that your party created.
One.
Two.
Three.
It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far to no avail. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine. 
And this chill so does love playing games.
You clamber away on your knees when you hear that deep chuckle of his emanate from right beside your ear. Creating as much distance to inspect this figure you’ve yet to face.
You see Astarion in all his vampiric glory. ‘Well, for a vampire spawn, I guess.’ You comment to yourself. Crimson eyes, darker than you imagined, with full, dark lashes contrasting his pallid skin and pure hair that glow under the moonlight. An unsettling, and cursedly attractive, smirk curls onto his lips. His ivory fangs on full display as he does.
“It seems as if those useless artifacts were worth something.” He marvels at his handiwork, his prize, and approaches it with confidence. 
“Well, your character certainly is more ‘prettied up.’” He circles you, carefully appraising his newest asset, and grins. “But you are far more intriguing.”
A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster.
“Although, you are very cute. Cheeky little pup, aren’t you?” He jests.
A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster which earns you a click of his tongue in response.
“You’re not broken, are you? Or am I to anticipate your little ‘what the fuck?’s as your only contribution?” Long, and incredibly masculine, fingers crawl and curl to grasp your chin like a spider. 
“I’ve waited months to have you. And now here you are, finally within my grasp.” The statement causes something to stir within you.
“What do you mean, ‘months?” 
He narrows his eyes, possibly trying to comprehend your stupidity.
“I’ve been watching you. Waiting, for the right moment. Interacting with this– caricature of yourself until you could deny yourself of me no more.” Blood rushes to your head. Your cheeks burning in embarrassment for seeming overly eager. And in panic as his intentions have yet to be cleared.
“And now that I’m here? Do you want to kill me?” You feel your heartbeat in your ears, awaiting his response. Your eyes wide in fear, yet trying to fake heroic bravado in the attempts to gain the upperhand.
And in this moment, he thinks you absolutely invigorating.
“Oh no, sweet pet. I’ve waited far too long for that. I’m going to make you mine.”
————━─━────༺༻────━─━————
Should I make this into a series? "The adventures of a misplaced artist in Baldur's Gate!!" Or something like that. Let me know, lol
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sanakimohara · 5 months
Note
This is my second ever ask in my 10 years of having Tumblr so please let me know if I’m saying this wrong or if this is rude 😅 but please could you do a felix or chan incredibly insanely darkly jealous a lot of breeding kink and rutting and c8ck dumb reader 😮‍💨😅😅 pretty please
“UNDER THE INFLUENCE” L. F.
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Awe well I am honored to be your second ask here on tumble. I think I'll take Felix on this one...give him a bit more love in my post stream..
{ MDNI }
+++++++
Today was not supposed to end like this. You had no intention of being in a room alone with him -especially while you both were ‘working’- but here you are. Trembling and writhing as Felix had his fill of you.
It was a miracle that your makeup wasn’t smudged; thankfully, your hair wasn’t too messed up from its original wet and wavy look. No matter how many times Felix ran his fingers through it or if you pressed your head against the thin walls as shrouds of ecstasy hit you, it stayed modestly neat.
One less giveaway of what the two of you were getting up to in his dressing room.
“Felix…F-Felix th-that’s enough….Ahm!” You groan as quietly as possible, trying hard to not let anyone outside the room hear how amazing it feels to have your cunt devoured like there was no tomorrow. The blonde completely ignored your demand, swirling his tongue in quicker circles around your clit before delving into your dripping entrance.
He’d been at it for the past ten minutes at least, never letting you pull your hips away from his oddly rough grip, keeping your legs wide open as you sat on the -previously organized- makeup vanity. You felt terrible about doing such inappropriate things with a man you swore you’d never met all day.
All fucking day.
You’d refused to admit that Felix was your significant other to make the photo shoot between you and a male model less awkward. A small sacrifice you were both used to driving to keep your relationship concealed and stable, but for one reason or another, Felix felt a simmering rage when he heard you deny your ties to them.
He hated it so much that he’d been less approachable and friendly for the better part of the day.
The staff noticed Felix’s change, whispering about how on edge he was on and off camera-cordial to everyone like always- but noticeably annoyed. You’d seen it too, very concerned he wasn’t feeling well and convinced just checking on him during the staff hour-long lunch break wouldn’t do any harm to anyone.
Everyone except you.
Felix was not above taking his growing frustrations out on you. The instant you shut his dressing room door, he’d covered you, hands preemptively inching the bodice of your silk skirt to touch your bare skin underneath as he placed one fiery kiss on your lips after another. “Stop letting him touch what’s mine, angel,” he whispers into your parted lips, drinking in the immediate whimpers you let out in return.
“You can’t be serious, Lix. More than half of the shoot requires us to “
He rolled his eyes, smirking in disbelief at your attempt to reason with him, “Does it look like I fucking care. Either keep his hands off you, or I’ll ensure it myself.” The rare sight of anger adorned Felix’s gentle features, voice a rumbling whisper, and the combination propelled you into subspace within seconds. He was never this openly possessive. He’d pout or sulk if you didn’t give him attention occasionally, but this…
This was new.
It made you nervous under his gaze, rendering you speechless as he hugged you close, lips reconnecting to your own in another sequence of tender kisses as he walked you backward into the vanity. Your exposed back hit the mirror with a soft ‘thud’ and you flinched away from it. Felix brought you close to him, letting his warmth resolve your shivering and trailing his hands over the intricate details of your artistic bralette.
You pulled away, smiling proudly as Felix took a moment to admire your decorated breasts, eyes darkening with desire as you leaned back with a knowing smile on your face. “Like what you see, Liz?” You tease him, giggling softly as you turn your head to look at him through the reflection. He nods slowly, tongue poking one of his cheeks as he snakes an arm around your waist, closing the tiny gap between you two and effectively spreading your legs to frame his waist.
“You know I do, angel. Always will…” he mutters adoringly, placing a trail of heated kisses along your neck, shoulder, and finally, the curve of your breasts. He groaned in displeasure as he realized the material was intricately clasped, making it a hassle to remove and one less place on your body for him to play with.
Felix solves the dilemma quickly, licking a long stripe over each one before nipping at your skin until barely visible bruises are raised on your skin. Your face burned hot, lust seeping to panic as he marked what he knew to be his, and though it felt amazing, you knew he was inching you both towards exposure.
“Lix, please don’t…they’ll see those…mm,” you bit back a moan as he made another affliction, purposefully making it noticeable. You flinched against him, hands flying to claw into his shoulders, “That’s enough…” you moaned into his ear. The demand lost its edge as it slipped off your tongue, concern becoming a blur as Felix tangled a hand in your hair, pulling it so you had no choice but to let him stain your skin with as many love bites as he pleased.
Your brows knitted together as each one became more intense than the last, the arm around your waist holding you flush against him, adding to the mind-numbing pleasure he was inducing.
You tried one last time to reason with him, stuck in thralls of heat and logical thinking, “Felix…th-“
He cut you off immediately, devoid of any sympathy for your plight, and his authoritative tone made that abundantly clear.
“I don’t care,” he retorts, and you whine in response, “..But I do.”
Felix laughed dryly, inwardly amused by your signature pout but unsympathetic with your reasoning. “You shouldn’t,” he replies softly, bringing his hands to caress your face. You stared up at him lovingly, leering into his touch as he pecked your lips, the subtle hums of approval thundering in his chest, building the pool of heat in your core.
“I know, Lix….” You murmur into the kiss, feeling his hands drop to your thighs, giving them light-handed squeezes. You subconsciously roll your hips to get his touch closer to your dripping cunt. He smiles against your lips, chuckling at your eagerness and immediately giving in to you.
“Desperate little angel, aren’t we?” He teased you, discreetly slipping the many rings off his fingers as you nodded your head and let out a breathless “mhm” in response. Felix shifted your silky skirt to the side, draping the fabric off of your legs as he cupped your mound with one hand. He bit his plush bottom lip as your hips bucked into his hold. A sheer thong was the only thing keeping your soaked folds away from him, and he remedied the obstacle by pulling it to the side.
“Fuck…” you hiss as the cool air hits your exposed cunt, slick going ice cold as Felix prodded to skilled fingers past your entrance. “It’s a miracle you don’t have cum running down your leg, love. It must be so hard walking around this wet for me, yeah?” His voice carried so much weight, doubling down on your own pleasure as he fingered you at the slowest pace possible.
You were at a loss for words, thoughts, or any coherent reaction as he curled his fingers forward to hit your sweet spot. Felix wanted a verbal answer, not just the satisfying gratification your moans brought him, “Need to hear you, angel..or I’ll stop.” You shake your head in displeasure, blushing heavily as you rush a reply, words slurring into excited whimpers.
“Y-yes…s-Ahm….fuck Lix…y-yes you’re right….”
“Good girl…” he whispers, pumping his fingers faster and pressing your clit with the pad of his thumb. You yelp quietly, whining curses as a familiar tightening ramped up in your stomach, and you clenched around his fingers as a result.
Felix groaned vicariously, smirking wildly before withdrawing his hand. “N-no! Lix, please!” You nearly shout in agony at the loss of fullness, ready to cry as he drops to his knees, faking a frown as he comes face to face with your glittering core. “You’re being awfully loud for someone who doesn’t want to get caught, love.” His warm breath fans the slick entrance as he speaks, putting you in a daze that intensifies when he flicks his tongue against you.
“Don’t care anymore…jus’ wanna cum,” you mewl as he focuses on the task at hand, finding the rhythm to taste you with his tongue perfectly and urging you to cum in his mouth with every deliberate action.
His blonde hair tickled your thighs, low moans sending vibrations through you in waves and heightening the toll your climax took on you.
Felix refused to stop until your cunt was all he’d be able to savor for the rest of the day. You nearly fell forward on him in a state of elated exhaustion as he stood back up and kissed you deeply. Your eyes slid shut as the creaminess of your release and his spit seeped down your throat, a wanton moan spilling from you both as his tongue danced with yours, and your hands traveled up to grip his hair.
“Careful…” he grunts, the sound giving way to an altered whine. You pull the blonde strands harder, lips connecting to his jawline and making your own mark on his tan skin. He reaches for his belt, glad his outfit wasn’t nearly as complicated as your own, and a sigh of relief comes out as a sharp exhale through his nose the moment his cock springs free.
You smile against his skin, eyes trailing down to get a view of it, “You’re such a hypocrite,” you taunt him. Amused to see how affected Felix was by the mere thought of another man laying his hands on you.
He groans, muttering a semblance of disagreeable words before shoving you back with gentle force. The conjoined feeling of the cold mirror hitting your heated skin and the instantaneous contact of his throbbing shaft gliding up and down your glittery folds has your back arching as ripples of pleasure course through you.
Felix drops his head to the crook of your neck, a few strands of his hair ghosting your skin as he places featherlight kisses. “Lix..” you mumble lowly, unable to think straight as he breathes in your scent, his hands grazing down your spine as he does.
“Promise me he won’t touch you again,” he whispers in your ear, his hips pausing, the tip of his cock inching into you ever so slightly. You whined loudly, head lulling back as your brows furrowed in frustration, one hand slipping from his tousled hair to clasp around his throat. Every breath he took raised his Adam’s apple, your thumb gingerly baring down the muscle as you shook your head slowly.
“I can’t..please don’t make me,” you plead for a compromise, but Felix disregards the refusal, pushing into your cunt inch by inch, torturing the both of you with the long-awaited security your fluttering walls would impose on him. “Yes, yes you can…you will. Promise me, sweetheart. Open your pretty mouth and swear to me that you’re all mine..” Felix shifted between pleading and demanding, eyes flickering from your expression of pure ecstasy as he sunk all the way into you to the space where you two connected.
A train of thought no longer existed for you as he pulled out slowly, slamming back so harshly that the vanity quivered from the subtle force. Your mouth fell open, eyes rolling in earnest bewilderment the rougher Felix got. “Fucking answer me…,” he groans, burying his cock in you, and refusing to move until you stuttered out a response.
Work be dammed. Telling some random guy to keep his hands to himself for the next few hours paled in comparison to your need to cum….and was honestly a task you’d do whether Felix was coercing it out of you or not.
So, as much as you cared for professionalism…it’d have to take a backseat to whatever emotion he was dragging you into now.
“I. I promise it won’t happen again…I promise, Lix…” You didn’t care how pathetic you sounded, past the point of modesty and clinging to Felix for dear life as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. Your chest pressed into his, the intricate details on your bra chilling his burning skin and prompting him to hold you there with an arm snaking around your waist.
He fisted the sheer material of your skirt, almost ripping through it as he tugged it higher, nails digging into your skin possessively, and you winced in pain as he brought his lips to your ear again. “Hm, does it hurt, angel?” He asks, feigning concern, and the contrast of the sweet gesture amid brutality made your head spin endlessly. “Y-yes,” you huffed as a moan built in your throat, quickly slipping out as he shifted one of your legs up and around his lean waist. The adjusted angle drew a surprised cry from you, cunt gripping every ride and vein of his cock as he took advantage of the position. He was bruising your sweet spot with an intensity and speed you’d never experienced before.
Felix was generally endearingly romantic and rarely this aggressive with you. Seeing, well, witnessing this side of his character was an edge for you on its own.
You were surprised that you managed to hold out this long without cumming and even more taken aback by the steady stream of arousal pooling on the vanity beneath you. Felix noticed it too, cock twitching inside you as pride flooded his system, “You’re making such a mess, pretty girl… does it feel that good?” He grinned triumphantly when you nodded without hesitation, hips rolling to meet his thrusts at an even pace for as long as possible.
“Gorgeous, so…fucking gorgeous..” he praises your every reaction, running a hand down the expanse of your torso, stopping to press down where you could feel his cock the most. You blushed as the applied pressure emphasized exactly where Felix was inside you.
The coil in your core teetered on the verge of snapping, your hands disappearing underneath the hem of his designer dress shirt, and your manicured nails scratched into his toned torso. The simple action caused Felix to buck his hips and wrap his free hand in your hair as he brought you into an open-mouthed kiss. It was sloppy, void of any decency, as the both of you chased your high at the expense of the other.
You clawed at his skin, moaning louder as the knot in your stomach begged to loosen for the third time in a row. He stared into your dreamy gaze, reading the warning in them as he held your head close to his.
Felix wanted nothing more than to etch this very moment into your mind for the rest of the day -your life. The thought of you walking around, filled to the brim with his cum as you posed for one picture after the next plagued his conscious, and undid the last link of reason for him.
“Fuck this,” he snapped, brows furrowing with determination as he pulled out of you, and slid you off the vanity to bend you forward on it instead. Thankfully, you caught yourself in time, too dazed to stop him from kicking your legs apart, and reentering you from behind. “Felix…” you groan exasperatedly, shuddering as his cock stretched your cunt with ease, causing a thin drip arousal to slide down your inner thighs.
The blonde leaned over you, a hand resting on the curve of your back as he returned to his pace from earlier. Sweat starts to build on his tan skin, a concentrated expression adorning his angelic features as he pounded into you.
Blank.
Your mind was entirely blank the longer he bullied his cock against your sensitive womb and the tension mounting in your body multiples exponentially as he lowered himself to speak in your ear lowly.
“This is where you belong, angel. Just like this, with me, an no one else understand?”
You nodded weakly, fighting back tears as the urge to cum from the sound of his voice tempted you.
It’d only take one more possessive word from him -paired with that salacious smile on his face- to unravel you. Felix was at his end, too, eyes sliding close as the precision of his thirst became a tenuous blur.
“You think he’d use you this well, love?” He slurs the question, unintentionally pulling your hair as he snaps his hips harder. “No…”you sigh deliriously, reaching a hand to run through his hair and bring him in for a heated kiss, while the other latched against the mirror to hold you steady under his weight as the knot in your core spiraled loose.
“That’s it….angel, fuck, you feel so good…” Felix doesn’t even try to be discreet, zoned in on the way your cunt gushes on his cock, greedily taking the hot ropes of cum he releases. Oxygen alludes to you for a few seconds, an overbearing heat rushing through you and your body quivering in the aftershock.
You looked divine. Unreal even. That pleased smile on your lips as you giggled shamelessly only added to the glow you emitted in your shared highs.
“He won’t touch me again, Lix..” you panted softly, smiling more expansive as you clung to him tiredly and laid your head on his shoulder.
He understood then. Why he’d felt so stricken with jealousy over you the whole day. Yes, he loved you, but the underlying notion that no one else knew it angered him.
What good would it do him not to try and claim you, at least? If fucking you into the bliss of oblivion was what needed to be done….he could make that sacrifice.
Felix kissed the top of your head, grinning as you whined defeatedly as he shifted his hips to settle his cock further into you, “See, that wasn’t so hard to agree to, now was it, love?”
You pout, raising your head to glare at him playfully, “No….but now the stylists will have to cover me in two layers of foundation!”
Felix raised a brow, gently rolling his hips into again, and you melted underneath him at the overstimulation. “Who said we were done, angel?” He asks, smiling at your fucked out reflection shifting to a look of desperation. You opened your mouth to say something but the words died in your throat, replaced by a broken moan as he gradually pumped his length past your tender walls, spreading his cum over them, and edging you both to another round.
This was not how your day was supposed to go, but there was no fight left in you, and certainly not enough left to refuse being stuffed full with Felix’s cum for the next thirty minutes.
Felix chuckled at the sight of you accepting your fate, subconsciously rocking your hips back to meet his, and welcoming the oncoming warmth of his accumulating releases.
Maybe making him jealous could be your new favorite hobby….
++++++++
This one was fun. I'm kind of proud of how it came out too....my editing is getting better hehe.
[ BONUS CONTENT + ]
Credits to owner 🖤 FYI if I met him and he made a joke I’d start laughing the same way zendaya was cracking up everytime Tom holland opened his mouth….i mean how else am I gonna convince Felix he’s my soulmate lmao 🖤
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robbie-wallis · 2 months
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I need to vent about Watcher, endure it if you can
Relax, this isn't a parasocial thing, but it is a long ass post, which suits me as a long ass human.
I need an outlet to discuss the terrible business decision Watcher has made by announcing their plan to leave YouTube, and this long-forgotten Tumblr account reached from its grave to grab at my ankle.
If you didn't see their video, good for you. It's extremely cringe-worthy in its sentimentality and editing, with blurry shots, pensive pauses and obligatory sad piano.
But at least there's no f'ing Ukulele.
Although, I think we might get the Ukulele in a few months.
Even though anyone who reads this is probably familiar with what the "Ghoul Boys" have done, I feel as though I need to add a little history.
WATCHER HISTORY
You can skip this part if you've been obsessively following the shenanigans, this is for the noobs who were never a "shaniac" or a "boogara".
Shane Madej and Ryan Bergara used to work at Buzzfeed. They hosted the successful Buzzfeed Unsolved shows. In 2019 they followed in the footsteps of the Try Guys and Safia Nygaaard and left Buzzfeed to create their own YouTube channel named "Watcher".
They brought along Steven Lim, another Buzzfeed person who is most known for the "Worth It" series. This series followed Lim and his friend/s spending obscene amounts of money on obscenely overpriced and indulgent products.
Think of it as being similar to the $100 V's $10,000 Sidemen content, only without the self-awareness and British "bad lads" humor.
Notably, even the Sidemen seem to have cut back on those adventures, perhaps understanding how bad it looks when so many people are struggling to pay their essential bills.
Steven became the CEO of Watcher while Shane and Ryan continued to create and present for the new channel.
They were wildly successful by YouTube standards. At the time of their self-spanking on Friday they were close to achieving 3 million subscribers, in just 4 years, based on basically only 2 cornerstone shows. If Social Blade is still a reasonably trusted source in everything but estimating income, they were gaining thousands of new subscribers every week.
Their most successful shows were Ghost Files, Puppet History, Too Many Spirits and Mystery Files.
Ghost Files is the only one of these shows which requires heavy investment, travel, a large crew and impressive production costs. These videos are shot on-location and require a lot of work. The rest are basically Good Mythical Morning style, just the two hosts and their banter.
Aside from Ghost Files, their content could be created with 3 cameras, 2 lapel mics and a good editor.
They were massively successful, solely because of Ryan and Shane.
THE DEMISE
So, what did they do on Friday 19th April? They decided to announce the launch of their own subscription platform.
Not a Patreon for extra content, behind-the-scenes, audience interaction etc, (they already had a Patreon with 6,000 paying subscribers earning them at least $50k a month), but a bespoke streaming platform which looks like a clone of Netflix.
The cost is $5.99 a month, or $60 a year.
Comparable to Netflix.
And by that I mean the price is comparable to Netflix while the content is comparable to a 4 year old YouTube channel.
Don't get me wrong, their production quality is incredible. The quantity, however, is not.
From the end of May viewers will have to pay to be a subscriber on their own platform in order to watch their shows.
They'll still be posting their trailers on YouTube, and the first episodes of new shows, but to watch it all you'll have to pay up or miss out.
Edited to add: Variety originally reported the Watcher crew were planning to remove all their existing content from YouTube to monetize it on their own platform. It's since been confirmed they will not be removing their old content. Fans are undecided whether this was a back-track after the announcement or a misunderstanding by Variety. You be the judge.
Of course, they're entitled to do this. They are creating a product and you can either enjoy it or not. No one is entitled to see it, for free, whenever they like.
Why did they do this?
Half of the sombre video gushes about their "humble beginnings" as "struggling young guys in a big harsh world", which comes across as extremely self-indulgent and ego-stroking.
A quarter of it explains how insanely successful they've been on YouTube and how this is all thanks to the fans who stuck with them after Buzzfeed, how it's allowed them to hire 25 people, how it's given them the freedom to create what they enjoy making and what the viewers want to see, and - most importantly - how it's allowed them to increase production quality on Ghost Files.
The final quarter of the video explains that this isn't good enough, the quality isn't high enough, the finish not glossy enough, it's not "TV caliber" enough! They want more, they need more, you have to give them more, mostly (apparently) because their CEO Steven Lim wants to bring back his show where he flies around the world with his bestie sipping Champagne and eating gold-leaf-covered lobster.
In short, they want more money to make even bigger things, even though their audience never asked for that.
WHY IT WILL NOT WORK
Oh my goodness, this is going to be a ride so strap in.
I'm not a YouTube creator so there are a lot of things I do not know. Having said that, I know a little about business.
This ain't Buzzfeed, y'all
Watcher became successful because of Ryan and Shane. It was their friendship, their personalities, and the content we loved to watch featuring them at Buzzfeed, that brought us along for the ride.
The audience they poached from Buzzfeed is there for them and Ghost Files. It's not there for Steven Lim and "Worth It". His show worked under the Buzzfeed umbrella only because they had numerous sub-categories in that community to support it.
The Try Guys left and created their own channel from their Buzzfeed fans.
Safia Nygaard left and created her own channel from her Buzzfeed fans.
Shane and Ryan left and created Watcher from their Buzzfeed fans.
Steven Lim left and became the CEO of Watcher. He didn't take his audience with him.
The audience of Watcher is not the audience of "watch me fly around the word with my pal and spend $100K on hand-reared, Whiskey marinaded, diamond-encrusted Kobe steak".
And... IN THIS ECONOMY?
Steven chose to become a CEO instead of a presenter. He's missed the opportunity to take that Buzzfeed audience with him.
This is made clear by the Watcher channel itself. Their "man eats food" content rarely breaks 500K views while their Ghost Files breaks 2 million consistently.
If a million of their viewers followed them from Buzzfeed to Watcher, the other 2 million have joined them since, based almost entirely on their spoopy content.
Not only did they base their channel on this genre and format, they have distilled their audience further ever since the creation of their channel and no matter how hard they try to diversify into "man eats food" it's just not working.
This ain't Netflix, y'all
As mentioned, the $5.99 charge is comparable to Netflix and just about every other streaming platform. Only Watcher can't give you even 5% of what a competing platform can offer for that price.
Other platforms also tailor their content and their pricing based on geographical location and localized economics.
You're paying far less than $5.99 a month if you live in an economy where the median household income is $300 a month. YouTube has a global audience. Their subscribers don't all live in a stable economy where $5.99 is considered disposable income.
We don't know the numbers, but I would guess only 60% of their subscribers are based in the USA, Canada, and the UK.
Even for those who do live in a stable economy, their audience is predominantly young adults and students. Most young adults are currently facing the reality that they will possibly never own their own home, they're living day-to-day trying to budget.
They've instantly priced-out a large % of their audience.
I confidently predict that diehard fans who can't see anything wrong with this will sign up for $5.99 a month, binge watch for a couple of weeks, realize there's no new spoopy content and cancel.
They'll come back when a full season of Ghost Files has arrived, pay again, binge it and leave.
Steven Lim thinks they're gonna get $5.99 a month, every month, from thousands of subscribers. In reality they're going to get maybe $12 a year, from people signing up to binge watch what they want, then leaving.
This will then decline naturally as attention wanes during the months where there is no spoopy.
This ain't good marketing, y'all
They're going to be posting "trailers and season pilots" on YouTube.
Sure, I bet YouTube is gonna be totes okay with a channel doing nothing but trying to hijack traffic for an external site.
Posting nothing but trailers and season premiers will mean maybe one full video per month during busy seasons. That's not enough to remain relevant for the algorithm.
If 80% of those posts are also just trailers saying "leave YouTube and come here", the channel will be smacked down quicker than a crypto scam using an AI generated Elongated Muskrat.
Their channel was growing steadily, but that was with full content regularly posted. When the schedule drops off, and when most of it is considered spammy by YouTube, it's going to collapse like a flan in a cupboard.
A streaming platform needs a constant flow of new subscribers just to replace the gradual drop-off (maybe ask Rooster Teeth about that). When your global audience at YouTube is gone, where are those new subscribers coming from?
The platform is also an additional overhead. It's going to cost thousands a month to keep the servers going.
This ain't good financial management, y'all
I don't know if they've already spent hundreds of thousands of $s on Lim's "men eat food" gamble, but I suspect they have.
I know they have spent hundreds of thousands of $s on a new season of Ghost Files, flying to the UK to host live events while filming those episodes.
This means they've over-extended their finances just at the moment where they've cratered their opportunities to see a return on investment.
Just that, on its own, is enough to destroy a production company.
They do not need 25 employees any more than I need an editor and proof-reader for this long ass post.
They do not need a production studio in Hollywood any more than I needed an office to write this.
They do not need to spend tens of thousands of $s on glossy graphics that appear on screen for maybe 4 seconds in one episode any more than I needed to add screengrabs to this painfully long essay.
By leaving YouTube they've lost:
Adsense revenue (which might not be much on a per-video basis but adds up with a back catalogue over years of productions)
Sponsorship deals, which allegedly contributes almost 50% of their annual revenue.
Merch sales, which is about to crash if the only people they can promote merch to are already paying per month in their smaller ecosystem.
Patreon. Why would someone pay $5.99 twice, for the same or less content?
And they've abandoned all of this for maybe a few thousand people who will probably end up paying just $12 a year when a new spoopy season arrives for them to binge.
I'm no Will Hunting, but no matter how hard I try to make the numbers work they just don't, and I don't need Robin Williams to tell me it's not my fault.
This ain't nice, y'all
Some of you are feeling like Ned's wife right now, and some of you will have no idea what that's in reference to.
Most of you will hate that I made that reference more than you hated the SNL skit.
I get it.
Maybe the worst part about all of his, from a viewer's perspective, is the dismissive nature of their sign-off.
They didn't mention the Patreon members once, not one single time in the whole video. It's like they consider the Patreon "too YouTube". They're the deformed cousin locked in the attic. They're the relative who wasn't invited to the wedding because they can't afford a Tom Ford suit. They're the colleague who isn't invited to the staff night out because they only work in accounting and no one has anything in common with Janice anyway.
These are diehard fans who were actually paying them extra to support them and enjoy a little bonus behind the scenes, and the boys didn't even consider them worthy of an utterance.
They also finished with "If you don't follow us and pay up it's been real, peace out". I'm paraphrasing, but that's basically what it was.
They spent so much of the video saying how awesome and great it was that the fans and YouTube got them to this point, but they didn't thank their Patreon members, and they ended with a blunt suggestion that if you don't follow them and pay more then you're not a real fan anyway and they don't really need you.
"Thanks for getting us here, sucks to be you, bye now!"
You made them wealthy, you helped them hire 25 people, you helped them increase production value to "TV caliber" even though you didn't ask for that, but your job is done and now you're superfluous. Only the real fans are wanted.
In the words of the great George Carlin - "It's a big club, and you ain't in it".
They're okay losing the vast majority of the people who got them here if a few thousand of those are comfortable enough to be able to pay $60 a year for a YouTube channel.
Can it get worse? Sure!
We've had a weekend to enjoy the constant heat of this bonfire and it's predictably worsened with each hour of silence from the company and its employees.
The fact that they haven't back-tracked, despite almost unanimous agreement that this is badder than the baddest thing that could happen to their company, suggests they're okay with it.
Consensus seems to be that they knew it would be this bad, and they're cool. They predicted 90% of people would scream "Boo to you good sirs! Boo indeed!" and they could still survive on the 10% who don't see a problem here.
The lack of response reinforces the narrative that they're totally fine with discarding almost their entire audience if they can just squeeze the cash they need out of whoever is left.
This ain't fixable, y'all (maybe)
Note: I don't want this to be mean, but it's going to sound a little bitchy no matter how I try to say it.
If they'd brought out the Ukulele on Saturday, or even teased Ukulele's on their socials before putting out a video on Sunday, they probably could have survived this with much hand-wringing and a little groveling.
But now I think they've grilled this Kobe steak for far too long.
They've lost 100K subscribers, and counting. The venom among Patreon members is allegedly worse than the public comments section under the video, which is startling. Dozens of YouTubers are torching them harder than a $100 crème brûlée.
People are scraping their channel content in case it's nuked.
Shane "eat the rich" Madej's sentiments over the last few years look disingenuous, to say the least. To shamelessly steal someone else's comment: "Imagine being all 'eat the rich' right before throwing yourself on the plate". He's silent while his McMansion burns down, at his own hands. "Why not!?" indeed.
Steven "I drive a Tesla" Lim's socials now make him look like a tech-bro try-hard and his use of words like "early adopter" and "soft launch" in the video only compound the belief that this was all his brainchild. He is the CEO, and that comes with responsibility and the associated blame. You can't steer the ship into the Bermuda Triangle and then disappear without looking like the bad guy.
Okay, you can disappear, but that convoluted metaphor is a mystery for someone else to solve.
Ryan "TV caliber" Bergara now sounds like an elitist who thinks YouTube is "too pedestrian" for his big plans, not big enough to meet his artistic vision. You see, he's more James Cameron, while YouTube is more like your student film club. He's grown beyond this pesky platform with billions of daily hits offering exponential growth with almost zero financial risk.
Even if they released a video today admitting they messed up big time it's still going to be hard to get the taste of this Ghost Pepper Warhead out of the collective mouth of their viewers.
This hasn't just burned their shared brand, it's singed their individual reputations among an audience upon which their careers rely.
What they should have done, on Saturday, is release a video (Ukulele or no) confessing their error. They should have announced their new platform will instead just be a bigger and better Patreon, with early access to everything, behind-the-scenes content, extra features, audience interaction etc.
They should have reversed to make clear their YouTube channel will stay the priority, their main source of revenue, but that you could get more on their own platform if you want it.
And, maybe, over time, people will pay for that. If they grow their channel to 6 million subscribers in the next 4 years there will be a couple hundred thousand of them willing and able to pay $5.99 a month for 8 years of shows, 8 years of behind the scenes content, 8 years of community involvement and regular early access to new episodes.
Maybe then they could try out their "privileged guys eat expensive food in expensive places" show and see how it does? Maybe a majority of people won't be living on the cusp of poverty by then and it won't look as tone-deaf as a 13 year old YouTuber trying to cover Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah"? Maybe then they could hire another 50 people and make Bergara's "TV caliber" (I still don't know exactly what that means) game shows and reboots?
The clock has been ticking since they hit that "publish" button on their career ending video, but that clock is about to count down to zero and silence will permeate throughout their previously lively community.
That 1980s basement set needed someone crying in the corner, right?
The problem is, their own platform is not a terrible idea. Really, it's not the worst thing they could do. The badness came in the timing, the switch, the middle finger and the f you. They could have released this as an extra, their own Patreon alternative, waited, developed it over time into something sustainable and established.
They could still try to do that and hope this dark chapter is forgotten.
Maybe I'm wrong? Maybe Lim is a financial genius with more skill than the management of Rooster Teeth and their corporate parent company combined? Maybe this gamble will be wildly successful despite all streaming services down-sizing or just going bankrupt? Maybe they won't be back on YouTube in 3-6 months begging for views after having to lay off 20 of their employees?
I know this... if I were one of those 25 employees blind faith would not be enough to stop me from looking for another job.
I suppose this will, for now, remain... a mystery.
EDIT:
I'm not writing another essay about this, but I'm glad to see they've backtracked and made the right choice to use WatcherTV as any sane creator would - to host early access and exclusive content in addition to their YouTube channel.
Over time, while promoting it in every video, building up that trust and fan base, it can be a secure and long-term financial bonus helping them to expand their business incrementally as finances allow.
Why this wasn't the plan all along is anyone's guess. Gambling everything on this was never the sane decision.
I still think they need to scale back on costs. I still think the food content is not currently a viable source of income while being a serious drain on resources. I still think they need to stop hiring all their friends and they need to hire one person who doesn't have personal relationships with everyone there and can make the tough business decisions.
No one likes firing people, it's ten times worse when it's a friend. But this is a reality of business and just wishing it wasn't so isn't going to make it go away. It would be awesome if we could all run a business where we can hire all our friends and family, never have to rely on any outside funding, make whatever we want, make a great living in one of the most expensive cities in the world and continue to grow.
That's just not the reality.
Their apology was genuine, in my opinion. I just hope they can work out the right financial balance.
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cipheramnesia · 3 months
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This is the process my brain goes through every time I see anything about Netflix Avatar The Last Airbender.
My first reaction is always: Why? The original, although not without flaws, doesn't leave a lot of room to improve. A good remake or adaptation usually involves an updated context or change in perspective that adds to the original work and gives it new meaning. It's a risky undertaking because it usually involves wanting to take on something established as iconic and make it your own. But Netflix is a corporation and seems very risk averse for the most part. Its only investment is in the name recognition of AtLA. It's hard to visualize Netflix deliberately taking a big risk on an expensive show.
My second reaction is: How? The original series is about 1400 minutes over 61 episodes, and it still had to rush the ending. We're looking at 8 episodes of roughly 45-60 minutes per episode for season 1, which would require Netflix to let it run more than 3 seasons, if the series has similar pacing. Historically however Netflix shows have glacial pacing, and rarely make three seasons. Not really sure how they plan to tell the story if the series is anything like the average Netflix series, meaning it either needs to undercut the story or let the series breathe for at least five seasons. But nothing Netflix has done makes me want to watch anything they make as an ongoing series? Why bother, they cancel everything I enjoy. So I wonder how. What's the hook to say "this will be able to provide something new and interesting compared to the original, and will be allowed to tell the complete story."
Which leads me to think, but you can't judge if something is good without seeing it. Except none of this is about whether it's good, I just find myself wondering what are the odds it's worth the effort? They're low, and it has nothing to do with whether or not it's even any good on its own merits.
Following this, I ask myself, what would a good version of this be. Imagine you are making a live action series with eight hour long episodes per season based on a children's cartoon with 20 thirty minute episodes per season. You are trying to encompass a story which was presented over three seasons as a cartoon, and you do not know if you will have more than those eight episodes. It's made for Netflix which, in terms of a company which will protect the hard earned fruits of your artistic labor, is the fox guarding the henhouse. What do you do?
If you are looking to make something good, that respects your audience investment and your own work, you make radical changes to the story. You change the pacing, the character arcs, the plot arcs. You make sure you deliver a complete story in those episodes with as much respect for the original work and as many new ideas as you can.
Except, at that point, what is even the point of a remake. The only way to work with it is either to trust Netflix allowing you to finish the story (which you'd need to be incredibly naive to do), or tell a story so different it may as well be wholly original. And that's where I always end up. Like, it'll probably be fine, but what's the point of it all? Another vanishing digital property to get canceled because of some undefinable failure to return on investment.
I think about it a lot because the two ends of the spectrum seem to be "dunk on every new piece of information" or "wait and see" but the only conclusion I can ever reach is "why even care?" That's been the lesson to take home from digital streaming in general when it comes to series, but Netflix in particular, and honestly for movie series too. If it can't be self contained, the companies who produce and release these kinds of series just cannot be trusted with it, and there are too many good original stories being put out to care anymore about big budget promises that one day they will definitely for sure deliver a finished story, this time for real.
I care enough to think about why I don't feel anything at all about Netflix Avatar. It'll be fine, whatever else. Just fine.
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All Funk, No Punk - Still Hobart Brown
Gold chains instead of silver spikes. Gator shoes in place of thrifted boots. And an afro bigger than Hobie's -
Spider-Funk is Hobart Brown - Earth 831
Hobie Brown maybe Artie's chiller, rougher, and louder self - but somehow, they get on like a cop car on fire (or whatever the saying is).
And Artie Brown maybe Hobie's cockier, flirtier, and flashier self - but they just tell people they're twins.
Or at the very least - they call each other 'brotha' and 'bruv' all the time.
When people ask about the accent thing - you know, Artie being American, they say 'Ever seen The Parent Trap?'
[A LONG ASS post - Below is Artie's Origins, Fighting Style, Relationship to Hobie, and how he got recruited - All About the Brown Bros! Artie & Hobie, FunkPunk!]
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It's Hobie 2 - Electric Bugaloo!
And just when Miguel thought he could only stomach one of them.
Though he calls himself the older brother, being born over a decade earlier, Artie is Hobie's less mature, more materialistic, but just as kind variant.
He's a pacifist instead of an anarchist - Full of Soul instead of bursting with Rock.
And he still hates cops.
Origins:
When Artie was drafted for the Vietnam War in 1969 - the first thing he did was burn his draft card. Then he joined the Black Liberation Army.
He wasn't the only one - Artie was part of the almost half a million draftees to do so.
And then President Osborn was elected.
To fill the gap in enlistment, Osborn came up with a solution.
V.E.N.O.M - A highly toxic, unfeelingly aggressive, and wildly bloodthirsty symbiote. A solution to the protests and draft dodgers.
Engineered by Oscorp - if you didn't induct yourself as a soldier, the V.E.N.O.M would make you one. And suddenly his friends were disappearing one by one.
A subtle but sudden-onset disease, the V.E.N.O.M variant was nearly undetectable, very persuasive, and incredibly effective.
More primal than animalistic, the symbiote's function didn't raise one's bloodlust, - instead it lowered, and at worse cancelled, your empathy. The symbiote subtly normalized dehumanization - attacking neurons in the cerebral cortex to destroy one's capability of empathy, compassion, and at times - recognizing faces. Able to follow commands without a second thought - the perfect soldier. Convincing the host of necessary order and their own biological superiority, over the course of 72 hours the host would lose their ability to recognize the people around them as anything other than sub-human. In 138, V.E.N.O.M turns you into an animal. In 831, V.E.N.O.M turns everyone around you into an animal.
It could make anyone into an unfeeling, unrelenting soldier - no guns needed.
The best of them got sent overseas to the War - and the rest, he turned on the people, hunting down all those who dared to dodge their call.
While on tour in DC, Artie was bitten by a radioactive spider, as he attempted to burn draft papers at a government facility.
He burned the papers. Plus he got some sick powers out of it. Plus Plus he gets to beat up The National Guard on a weekly basis. Ain't that a score.
And Hobie may hate the name Spider-Punk (or so he says), but Artie loves being Spider-Funk.
He calls them Funk & Punk. Hobie calls them that too, but like in a cool ironic way.
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Artie & Hobie:
Personality:
Hobie knows that Artie is going through his 'Pavitr Phase', so he cuts him some slack. Artie's only been Funk for a year and some change.
He's got more Ws than Ls, so he's always one to be a bit cocky and reckless - though never at anyone's expense.
He's more talkative than Hobie - and WAY more flirty than Hobie, ready to wink at anyone willing to stare.
Like Hobie, Artie has his own groupies. And the pair on campus do get stares (and whispers. and giggles); Two 6'5 dudes with enough hair to cause an eclipse, walking around in loud ass boots, they're sure to draw attention.
Something Artie loves.
Artie considers himself a Ladies' Man. And a Man's Man. And what gender you have to offer really. (He's still a 'Hobie' - he doesn't discriminate)
He's got a waterbed in his boathouse, shag carpets, and wine at the ready. He loves sweet-talking people, and showering them in compliments. Whereas Hobie's love language is Physical Touch, Artie's is Words of Affirmation.
But all Hobie has to do is open his mouth and Be British and suddenly Artie's date is swooning and he's like 'Brotha, I'mma need you to shut the hell up for a second right quick.'
If you hang out with them, get ready for Hobie hanging off your shoulder, while Artie is in your ear complimenting your outfit.
Fighting:
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Artie's fighting style is a lot more fluid than Hobie's with a lot of martial arts involved - similar to blaxploitation movies of the era.
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Hobie thinks he looks bloody ridiculous meanwhile Artie is like 'if dem damn jeans weren't so tight maybe you could get like me and have some flair in your fight, my man.'
He also has an INCREDIBLY MEAN backhand.
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Ideology:
The two of them are fairly close, hanging out with each other a lot. Though the two of them are fairly different. Artie is far more pacifist than Hobie, but that doesn't mean he's above violence.
He's just not one to talk about it, or threaten it. He's more of the 'let people talk - don't start none, won't be none'. Camp - and he'll almost never throw the first punch. Though he absolutely considers intimidation, selling hard drugs, and fucking with the general population 'starting some'.
Their ideology may clash heads everyone once in a while, but they hardly ever fight. At all. Instead, they have frequently heated, in-depth debates.
Artie may not be as radical or educated on things as Hobie, plus Hobie has ten years of extra history to pull from, but the two of them do it often, and it keeps them spry.
The only problem is, they get so into it, it SO HARD to understand what they're saying. Accents, slang, cutting each other off, roping other people into the conversation to back them up. It's WILD.
Artie is a lot more materialistic than Hobie. Not as critical of capitalism, Artie likes to game it rather than complain about it.
Unlike Hobie, Artie LOVES the finer things in life, and spoiling those around him. He likes gold over silver, and wears more rings than spikes.
He's a bit full of himself, and he carries a rag in his pocket to whip blood off his nice white boots. Something Hobie wouldn't be caught DEAD doing.
And Hobie clowns him for it everytime. Artie doesn't care. 'True playas never play sloppy.'
But how can he afford all of this? Well,
He's not as uhh,..honest as Hobie. But he has a heart of gold (get it?). And he never lies just to lie - if he's doing it, it's probably for work, or to Miguel, because he does not respect Miguel.
Artie be stealing. He's a master at sleight of hand. If it's a big corporation, it's free game. He never steals money - but to put it concisely: He's a smooth mfer.
He likes gold - he thinks it looks nice. But he knows for a fact that the worth of it is completely manufactured my human and capitalism, and that it's literally just a pretty metal.
He knows that paying hundreds for a chain or gold is exploitative, especially when it's stolen to begin with. So to him, it's justifiable, gimmie.
He also does it mostly for fun, a magic trick - in the same way Hobie makes stuff 'disappear' while talking to Miles, and doing hand tricks.
Artie does that, but more often, and more skillfully.
He doesn't do it all the time, but the first time he did it in front of Hobie - snatching Hobie's homemade watch of his wrist - Hobie was genuinely surprised.
Mostly he does it to make things disappear from your hand, parts he finds lying around, and playing pranks on people like Miguel. Generally, just being a lil shit.
He's a sweet-talker and a big steppa.
Unlike Hobie, Artie knows better than you force his way in. Artie slides in. He can talk them in to anywhere.
He'll pretend to be someone else, pretend to know someone else, steal passes and key cards to get in, and try to attack from the shadows when he can.
In battle, Spider-Punk is the louder, chattier, more immature one. And Spider-Funk is the chiller, sarcastic one.
Like twins, the two of them have their own in-jokes, and they hang at each other's places all the goddamn time. Though they live in different universes and decades, Artie & Hobie are kinda a package deal.
They may not always be together - they both got their own shit to do and they're not actually brothers - but if you hang with one, it's only a matter of time before you meet the other.
"Why is your brother American?" "Divorce." - "Adoption." ........ "Adoption." - "Divorce." "One of you or the both of you are lying."
Diane & Artie & Annie -
[This section is about my main OC Disco-Spider Diane, and her variant Annie P. Disco-Spider is Hobie's....something and they are happily....a something]
Every Hobart needs his Diane, and Artie is no different.
Artie & Diane:
And like usual, it all starts at the beginning.
Diane was the one to recruit Artie - because of course she was. And Lyla had told her two things: He was a guitarist, and his name was Artie. That's all she needed to know.
Lyla wanted it to be a surprise.
She snuck back stage to his show, brushed off the nearly palpable feeling of deja vu in the air, broke into his dressing room, and then tried to flirt him into joining the Society. Easy peasy.
Diane is a very oblivious woman. They spoke for nearly 10 minutes - and Artie decided to hear her out. He sat down on the couch in his dressing room, pulled back his hair and-
Diane goes -
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"Hobie??? Is that you?! Oh my goodddd, you look so cute! Your hair!! Hobarrrrt - Why you ain't say nothing, had me standing here doing all this."
Speech completely forgotten. Mind you, she still hasn't explained anything. Diane is destined to freak out every Hobart she meets.
Artie is starting to think he should stop flirting with weird ass groupies that break into his dressing room.
Diane takes out her watch, the watch he doesn't know she has. She pulls up Lyla, the AI he doesn't know she has. And Diane asks her -
"Lyla! Does Artie stand for-" "It does!" "Oh my god!!! That makes this SO much easier! You're soo sweet, awww!!" "You know I saw the mission and thought of you-" "Am I on drugs right now?"
Needless to say - Diane's recruitment was successful.
Diane and Artie actually get on well, really well. Like weirdly well.
Artie and Diane are both extroverted, flirty, and a bit full of themselves. They're expressive, and more into their hair than they're willing to admit. They're perfect for each other - and people notice.
And Diane finds it a TAD BIT WEIRD
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I mean, the differences between her and Hobie is what Diane loves about them - they're like sugar and spice, PB and J.
Sometimes Artie and Diane may accidentally finish each other's sentences - and Diane will be like 'Hey don't do that :)'. Other times, Artie will playfully be like 'Why are you standing so close to me, mama?' Just to piss her off.
Of course, Diane thinks he's 'cute'. But not Hobie Cute. And unfortunately, he 'speaks American'.
Besides, Hobie is the only Hobart for her.
Artie is definitely into Diane, but more in the 'she's a catch I would go for' kinda way. He did hit on her a couple times early on in their situation - but once she made it clear that she was 'seeing Hobie', he took the hint.
There's no jealously there - Hobarts are incapable of it. In fact, he's kinda proud the only other guy who could pull the hot girl is ..another him.
Now, Artie is a lot more like a big brother, kinda like the ones Diane grew up with in the Panther's house.
He's protective of her, in a 'Be mean to her and I'll deliver an ass whoppin on a plate' way. He thinks she's cute in the way a platonic sense, and finds her groupie mode to be as amusing as it is adorable.
It's ironic though that his ACTUAL girlfriend is - well, Diane's Opposite.
Artie & Annie:
[This section is shorter, and will be longer in Annie's post]
Diane Pastors is Annie P. is Mod-Spider.
Artie's girlfriend, Annie is the farthest thing from Diane while somehow still being just as big of a diva.
An avid feminism campaigner and modern woman, she would never be caught DEAD hanging off of Artie like that. And she can't stomach Diane all that much.
Hobie, Annie HATES. And not in a coy way. She thinks he's obnoxious - she calls him a poseur. She thinks he's a scrub.
Her & Artie are in a committed relationship - officially boyfriend and girlfriend. And instead of Annie, Artie is the one who wears her name on a chain.
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Just like Diane and Hobie, Annie and Artie have a musical duo - called ModFunk.
We're almost done I PROMISE.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Random Details:
Artie's design is an inverted version of Hobie's, but it's also inspired heavily by Jimi Hendrix, mainly this photo on the left.
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Right is an example of Artie's Style. His universe has a paint-marker aesthetic, a lot more colorful and soft than Hobie's, with dripping paint and splatters, but it tones down a lot - like Gwen's.
Artie plays Soul, Jazz, and Funk.
He has a band with his version of Daredevil, Felicia Hardy, and Captain Anarchy.
Artie has killed cops - and soldiers before. But he doesn't see it as a big deal. He hates cops, but he doesn't focus on it. He doesn't discriminate. Ass Whoopin's for everybody.
He DOES pull his hair back, his face isn't covered all the time. Maybe 80% of the time.
He can get around with Spidey Sense, so he doesn't care much - he loves his fro and is always picking it out.
He Pavitr are like best friends. Pavi and The Brown Twins get LOUD AS HELL when all together.
Gwen thinks he's an absolute goofball - So Artie tries his best to make her laugh. She seems like she needs it.
When not on stage and in battle, he prefers to play an acoustic guitar, which Hobie doesn't like playing. His acoustic is also blue.
Him and Hobie can play on each other's guitars, but it sounds very trippy, and VERY VERY weird, abnormally so.
If their heads are covered, or hair done like each other's, they can seamlessly pass as each other.
Hobie SUCKS at an American accent - but somehow, he can mimic Artie's perfectly.
It's the same for Artie - sucks at British, but can speak like Hobie.
He loves chocolate candy bars, Hobie likes fruity candy.
They do write songs together and go to each others shows, though they don't ever really perform together.
They wrestle A LOT
Artie is a genius as well, and they work on mechanics together, Artie is great at math specifically.
He and Hobie do each others hair care and help oil each other's scalps.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So uh.....that's Artie :) The guy
If you made it this far THANK YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ENTERTAINING ME - Artie platonically gives you a red rose.
ALSO TELL ME Why I tried to draw him like Jimi Hendrix But he looking like the Jackson 5 IM SO SORRY YALL
Here's OG Hobie as a thank you! Just imagine two Hobarts standing on either side of you both tall and with big hair and touchy and talkative as fuck Diane is living the DREAM let your OCs be happy
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Bye.
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frownyalfred · 2 months
Note
Saw the ask about the HC for a justice league origin and my favorite to play with has always been one where Superman and Batman meet and over five years get incredibly invested in each other's schticks, a year or so after they meet they end up working with Diana for something maybe world ending but quiet and years down the line when the Justice League is formed they're all incredibly in this weird limbo position. They're used to working together, but they're also used to defending Batmans position as a cryptid with their lives. That is not a habit that dies easily.
Everyone knows Diana and Kal formed the league, but they routinely reference a third member (who apparently did most of the "research" ie stalking on who would or wouldn't be admitted or considered for the league). They don't give a name. They don't give any kind of acknowledgement of who or even where this person might be stationed. When outright questioned about it both of them answer with some variation of "Who?" The league is convinced it's some hacker or just a civilian the two know. Maybe even a government person?
Up until the point that Bruce is actually forced to start working part time and most of the newer league members can't stand him. He gives orders and just *expects* to be listened to???
But Bruce has been the guiding hand behind almost all league strategy for at least five years now. Clark and Diana go to him for advice when they're uncertain on the course of action. He's the one making the training plans and the monitor schedules and the one who sorts through all of the requests or complaints Leaguers file. (A good half of which recently are about the fact that there wasn't a vote on Batmans sudden admittance into the league)
It takes some massive alien invasion and an almost complete wipe out before Clark forgets to switch to a private comm when someone manages a direct hit and asks Bruce if that's why he picked that guy for the league, cause he definitely wasn't on Clark or Diana's radar.
Cue the slow dawning horror as they realize that there wasn't a vote on Batmans admittance to the league because he's been a member from day one.
(the funding can be revealed later, better not to break all their brains at once)
Sorry that got long, this is an AU I've wanted to write for ages but tragically will never do justice to
Oh my goodness, the way I would read the shit out of this idea! I hope you write it someday! It’s such a delicious flavor of identity porn isn’t it??
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kasagia · 1 year
Note
hi, can you do a one-shot for klaus, where he has a crush on y/n, and they have a one-night stand, and Klaus is sad because he thinks he won't see her again, but then he gets the news that y/n n is pregnant with his daughter (reader gets pregnant, no hayley, y/n is Hope's biological mother) and klaus takes the news well, because it's someone he loves and takes the pregnancy as an opportunity to make t /n love him.
Making her love me
Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x fem! reader Word count: 7,4k (way too long, sorry not sorry) Warning(s): smut mention, panic attack (a little), swearing, and typical TVD violence. Nonsense from me: I'm so excited to post it since it's my first request/ask or whatever I should call it. I hope it's basically what you asked for, Gallus Anonymous! <3
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Klaus Mikaelson loved Y/N Y/S.
The original hybrid was hopelessly in love with her since the first time he met her on his family's ball. He will always remember that day.
She looked like an angel. Well, maybe more like a devil (judging by the fact that part of her hair was arranged in two small buns imitating horns), but still, she was the most beautiful girl at the party (and maybe in the whole world).
When he saw her, dancing in her black-golden dress with one of Salvatore's brothers, he knew that this girl would be his at the end of the day. Even if he has to fight with these bloody, young vampires.
Unfortunately, Y/N didn't have the same feeling when she first saw him. As a proud member of a Mystic Falls group (who returned to the town after a school exchange), she was obligated to hate the Mikaelsons.
But she must admit to herself that the man with the British accent was incredibly hot.
Damon, noticing Klaus's sudden interest in his friend, decided to use this to his advantage and pushed Y/N into the arms of their nemesis. Klaus was delighted. Y/N disgusted.
The original hybrid stuck to her for the rest of the evening, forgetting all about Caroline. Y/N has since become Klaus Mikaelson's official distraction. And she wasn't happy about it at all.
Her friends would use the Siphon Witch whenever they needed to keep Klaus occupied or to ease his bloodlust after doing something stupid (like stealing white oak stakes right under his nose and 12 obedient hybrids. Great plan, Damon!).
Y/N would have to wisely bump into Mikaelson and spend some time with him until the Mystic Falls heroes fix the shit they made. At least the girl was much less stressed compared to her friends, and sometimes she really enjoyed the company of the hybrid.
Once, a man took her to a cafe-studio where little-known Mystic Falls artists would gather. She returned to the Salvator Brothers' estate in navy blue paint, with little constellations painted by Klaus on her face, arms, and neck. Damon barely refrained from making a sarcastic remark.
Fortunately, Stefan saved him from her very likely wrath, because every time someone makes jokes about Y/N's relationship with Klaus, she gets mad and loses control over her magic power. Once, Bonnie had to repair Stefan's motorcycle. The vampire learned his lesson then and tried not to annoy her again. Sometimes, though, he seriously considered letting his older brother cross the line. He wondered if Damon would cry over a damaged car.
With time passing, Klaus had only a stronger crush on her. Everyone knows that. Expect Y/N herself.
At best, she thought the hybrid regarded her as some sort of friend or a distraction between his villainous grand schemes. There could be no feelings between them. Not when she already had a very loving boyfriend whom the original hybrid found out about at a 1920s school party.
She bewitched him completely then. And he was ready to tell her the truth about his real feelings for her and try to make her his, but then he saw this other guy holding her like he wanted to hold her the first time he met her. For Klaus, this man didn't deserve her attention; that human didn't realize how valuable a treasure he was holding in his hands right now. Klaus wanted to go away and let Y/N enjoy dancing with this lesser man. He really does. But when she turned and looked at him with these beautiful, delightful eyes, he couldn't just disappear without exchanging one last word with her.
After all, Klaus was a selfish man.
"You don't mind if I cut into you." Klaus' voice came from behind me, making me shiver.
"Yes. Actually, we do." My boyfriend snarled, recognizing the guy who was "hanging dangerously around me." He had no idea about the supernatural shite we were in and I had no idea how to tell him all of this (or just didn't want to).
Klaus just smiled unfazed, catching his gaze.
"Why don't you go somewhere far away and come back in 20 minutes? You can be useful and bring the beautiful lady something to drink." my boyfriend dutifully obeyed, leaving me with a smug hybrid. "Shall we, love?" he grabbed my hand and pulled me to him, swaying to some slow, romantic song without waiting for my response.
"Why do you always have to prove you're the alpha male?"
"I don't have to prove anything, love, I'm the alpha male." he replied, offended. I rolled my eyes, sighing.
"You would've loved the 1920s, Y/N. Girls were reckless, sexy, and fun. They literally used to dance until they dropped." he turned me around, smiling slyly.
"Since they were so reckless and drunk, I suppose it was easier for you to find a lover then."
"You should be nicer to me. I'm leaving town tomorrow." I shifted my gaze to him, shocked by the information he had thrown at me. "I'd invite you to come with me, but we both know that you're not ready to accept my offer. Perhaps one day you'll turn up at my door and let me show you what the world has to offer."
"How many girls fell for it? A magical tour of the world with an all-powerful original who plays with them like toys?"
"You mark my words. Small-town boy, small-town life won't be enough for you." he said, completely ignoring my previous words.
"And how do you know what's enough for me?"
"Because I know you, Y/N. Do you imagine marrying that stupid man with whom you were dancing later? Giving him children, living too short to make your real dreams come true?" I wanted to look away from him, but he gently grabbed my chin, forcing me to confront him and all my fears at the same time. "You want love, trust, passion, excitement, and even a little power, and unlike this fool, I can give you all of this and more. Just say a word."
"But for what price?" I asked, taking a big breath.
I realized we were much closer than was appropriate for a dance, but neither of us cared. His gaze was moving from my eyes to my mouth. I licked my chapped lips unconsciously, stuck in some incomprehensible anticipation. Only for what?
"Kaus. Y/N. I finally found you two. We have a problem. Klaus' mother is back." Stefan interrupted the moment between us.
I swear I could hear a little swear from the hybrid before he took my hand and led me towards Stefan, who was hurrying away.
After that, T/N didn't get a chance to meet Klaus again. Since they were on opposite camps in finding the cure, Y/N tried to avoid the hybrid at all costs. He just wanted to use her. Seduce her with his sweet words to make her do everything he wanted. She had no other explanation.
Klaus, on the other hand, tried to get her out of his head in every way he knew how. He couldn't keep up with adding new canvases for the portraits of his one-sided crush. His siblings were starting to worry about him.
Especially after he found out her boyfriend was going to propose to her. (Damon has never been prouder of being a gossip boy.) This overflowed the hybrid's cup of bitterness.
Kol and Elijah walked around their brother like they were on eggshells. Rebekah, on the other hand, has no such pity. It was her occasion to tease Klaus, like he was doing whenever she fell in love (at least Rebekah didn't want to kill Y/N like SOMEONE).
But nevertheless, she was the one to tell Klaus that Y/N rejected her boyfriend's proposal. The original never loved his sister more. He was happy that Y/N was now single, and he even thought that in the near future he may have a little chance with her since there were no other competitors for her heart.
But even in his wildest dreams, Klaus would not have dared to think that Y/N would knock on his door that same day and greedily bite into his lips as soon as he opened it. And not that she'd start ripping his clothes off and pushing him into his bedroom (which surprised him, given that she knew how to get there without his directions).
He never would have thought that one night would change his life forever.
~•♤♤♤•~
Y/N's POV
I sighed, rolling over to the other side of the bed as the first rays of sunlight somehow hit my eye. I always kept the windows closed. How come I didn't do it this time? Reluctantly, I opened one eyes to look at my treacherous bedroom window, only to found out that I wasn't in my room.
Also, not in my bed.
And not in any clothes.
AND DEFINITELY NOT ALONE.
As soon as I looked at the calm, sleeping, and clearly satisfied (judging by his disheveled hair) Klaus, memories of last night started flooding back to me.
Panicked, I looked around the room for my clothes, trying to ignore the sight of overturned furniture, a broken mirror, and even a dent in the wall. Unsuccessfully. My face has never been so close to the color of my blood.
Once I'd traced my things, I carefully got out of bed and dressed as quietly as I could, closing the vampire's bedroom door behind me. Now all I had to do was get out of the house full of originals unnoticed. Simple, right?
"Y/N, darling! What a pleasure to see you this morning. How do you feel?" Klaus' little brother jumped out of nowhere and threw one arm around my shoulders, making me come inside the house again.
"Hello Kol. Bye Kol." I tried to dodge him, but he sped up to stand in front of me.
"Wait a minute half-witch. You're going to leave my brother like this? After your… noisy night? He'll be devastated. Was he not up to the task? I could teach him a bit if that's a problem for you. You have my word that within a week you won't be able to stop…"
"Kol! For the bloody hell, stop this awkward conversation. I'm sorry for him, usually we keep him in a coffin." Rebekah cut him off and stood next to him, glaring at him furiously.
"Um… no problem, I guess. If you don't mind, I'm gonna go now."
With even redder cheeks, I ran out of the mansion and, at the speed of light, got into my car, driving far away from this town. I needed rest, and I knew only one person who would be willing to take me under their roof without any questions.
"Hi Katherine. Where are you right now?"
~•♤♤♤•~
"Are you sure it's just food poisoning? Won't you die here suddenly? Do you want my blood?" Katherine flooded me with questions as I returned to our table.
It's been 2 months since my "great escape," as Damon liked to call it, from Mystic Falls. At that time, I was traveling with Katherine around the United States, doing what I wanted to do most: seeing the world (starting with small things like staying in all states). After the brunette gave the cure to Elijah (while experiencing her epic love story with him, which ended with her heartbreak over Elena's meddling and Elijah's doubts), she decided to accompany me on my quest.
I had to arrange everything in my head. What I wanted out of life, who I wanted to be, and so on.
That was the main purpose of this trip.
In fact, I helped Katherine heal her broken heart and tried to avoid the topic of Klaus Mikaelson like the plague. With small or big successes depending on the day.
Sometimes Damon, Stefan, or Bonnie would mention how snappy he'd become after my sudden departure or that he was asking them about my whereabouts. The worst was his drunken voicemails he left. They ended after the first month, but they were the biggest test of my perseverance. I had to piece my twisted life together before adding my love problems with the world's (nearly) oldest living vampire to the puzzle.
At least that was the plan until those New Orleans bitches got me.
As soon as we left the bar, some girls accosted us and knocked us out with magic. I woke up in some cold, dank, musty crypt with Katherine by my side. At least I wasn't alone. We both had a better chance of defeating those witches. The new thing in those two months was my sudden ability to do magic without any source of energy. It looked like my abilities were starting to screw up too.
"Are you Y/N Y/S?" one of the witches approached us, staring at me warily.
"One and only. May I know who I am having the pleasure of?"
"Sophie Deveraux."
"Sophie. Some time ago, I knew a girl with this name. She got under my skin too. She is dead now. You can guess what happened to her."
"Yeah. It's definitely her. I couldn't imagine someone more of this psycho's type." she told her friends. The women grabbed us both and led us out of the makeshift cell to drag us to the main hall of the crypt.
"Allright. Can one of us tell why you are holding us here?"
"We need you, sugar, but your friend is just an accessory, so if you want both of you to get out of this somehow, you'll keep quiet." seeing that I had no intention of objecting, the unknown woman smiled victoriously. "Good girl."
I gave her a sweet smile before breaking her neck with a flick of my wrist. There was a sudden commotion around us. Katherine suffered a brain aneurysm after one of the witches raised her hand on her. The brunette screamed once before someone else appeared in the crypt, tearing out the heart of the witch who was attacking her.
Elijah.
Elijah came to save the day.
"I thought you wanted to talk, and both Katherine and Y/N were supposed to be unharmed." he said in his legal tone, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stepped between me and Kath. The woman was as pleased with the presence of the original as I was.
"She started." Sophie pointed at me. Elijah turned to look at me. I shrugged.
"You make me." I answered her with a malicious smile.
"Y/N." the man said warningly. This noble bastard won't tell me what to do.
"Elijah. Nice to see you. Maybe you can tell us why we've been locked in some fucking tomb? Is this some kind of revenge of yours, or did we get caught in the crossfire of Mikaelson's skirmishes purely by chance?"
"I would like to know that too. You wanted to be heard. Speak, before I change my mind." he turned to the witches without changing his defensive position.
I gave Katherine a brief, knowing glance. The woman reluctantly nodded at me. Great. We have personal cannon fodder if things get hotter.
"Marcel Gerard, ruler of the city, forbade the witches of my coven to use any magic. We want your help. Especially your brother's."
"Niklaus? You have to make him go to town first. And as far as I know, she's not in the mood for any outings right now."
"Even if he gets a message from her?"
"Your mother didn't teach you not to point at people?"I growled at her as she did it again. "Besides, I didn't text… You have my phone, don't you?" I asked, realizing it was their only way of contacting the hybrid. The woman tossed me my phone with a sly smirk.
"Read." I scowled but followed her instructions anyway, wondering what it was that would make him stick his nose out of Mystic Falls.
"I need you, Klaus. New Orleans. Witches cemetery. Please help me. Yeah. I can already tell you that he won't come. We're waiting here for no reason."
"And why is that?"
"This news reeks of a damsel in distress from a mile away. I would never write to him like that. I also doubt if he even cares what happens to…" I stopped when I heard someone's scream in the distance. A man mentioned earlier had burst in with blood on his hands and lips.
Well… mistakes happen.
"Great! Now that we're all here, we can start. We need your help." The woman began to explain the whole thing about Marcel and the witches. Everything was clear except for one thing.
"And where exactly is my role in this Machiavellian plan of yours?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
"And who said I would agree to it instead of just killing you all and taking Y/N out of here?"
"I can take myself and KATHERINE out, Klaus. I don't need your help."
"Oh, do you?" he took a few steps towards me to stand in front of me. I snorted, returning his dark gaze. There's no way I'll be afraid of him.
"That's how we get to the main topic." Sophie paused, catching our attention again. Klaus stood next to his brother, giving the witch his famous sinister look while he was waiting for her to continue. "You see, I have a special gift for knowing when a woman is pregnant."
"And how exactly is this fact important to us?"
"She's carrying Klaus' child."
I broke the sudden silence in the crypt with a very loud laugh.
"And you're insane or a very, very bad liar."
"I'm telling the truth! You're pregnant with his child." she tried desperately to convince us.
"Vampires can't procreate, ergo, I am not in any false pregnancy."
"Vampires can't. But werewolves can. And Klaus is both."
"That's ridiculous. Klaus, say something! She didn't tell the truth, did she?" I tried to find support from the speechless Klaus. By the way, I think it was the first time I saw him without words.
"Y/N, be quite for a second."
"What? Elijah, are you believing her?" the man responded with nothing, staring at me with a strange look.
Klaus walked over to me. He stopped a few steps in front of me, staring at my belly as if he was hypnotized.
"I can hear it." he whispered, looking at me in disbelief.
"Hear what?"
"The baby's heart."
"What? But... it's impossible." I suddenly felt my heart beating much faster, as I was unable to catch my breath properly.
"It is. Like being a hybrid or a witch without her own magic. And yet we're here. And we gonna have a baby."
"No. That's a lie. I... we... I need fresh air." I avoided the brothers standing in front of me and headed the way Klaus had come from earlier. Unfortunately, one of these witches blocked my way and grabbed my arm tightly.
"You're not going anywhere until we settle the details of our deal." right after she said that, I felt her hand being removed from me. I was pulled against someone's strong chest. The familiar smell of Klaus' perfume brought me a momentary sense of relief.
"Touch her again, and I'll make sure that's the last thing you gonna do before I take your miserable life away from you." Klaus growled, tightening his protective grip on me and scouring the present witches with a hostile glare.
"Calm down, both of you. Neither of you will have any use for her if she faints here. Klaus, take her outside. Elijah and I will take care of everything."
Klaus glanced at Elijah. His brother nodded, encouraging him to leave. The hybrid took my hand gently and led us out onto the streets of New Orleans. We stopped in a square. Klaus sat me down on a bench and knelt in front of me, carefully watching me take slow, deep breaths, trying to calm down.
When I was sure my magic wouldn't suddenly blow up the whole city, I opened my eyes tentatively to meet the vampire's concerned gaze. I swallowed, turning my eyes away from him. He was still kneeling in front of me with his hands on my lap.
"Are you better?"
"I think so." I glanced at him nervously, fiddling with the bracelets on my wrist to internally brace myself for asking the original thousand-year-old hybrid about something incredibly... stupid. "Can you... go to the one place with me?"
"Are you sure you want to go back there, love?" I shivered when I heard this familiar nickname. I missed this. Klaus misread my reaction as he shrugged off his leather jacket and covered me with it.
"Thanks. I don't want to go back there. I think, well, I need to be perfectly sure it's true that..." I stopped, unable to say the words aloud. It would have been too real then, and right now I couldn't accept even the slightest possibility.
"That we're going to be parents?"
"Yhm. Will you go with me to the gynecologist? I don't want to do this alone."
"Anything you want, love. I'll check the address." he sat next to me and started searching for the location of the nearest clinic on his phone.
As we sat together in silence, I began to wonder at the absurdity of this situation. And the improbable, rational behavior of the hybrid sitting next to me.
"Klaus?" I asked, yanking him off the phone for a moment.
"Yes?"
"You're not... you know. Crazy about this? Or something like that. I mean... I thought you gonna ask me if it's yours, of course if it even exist, but still. You're so... calm. Like not you."
"Would you rather me to run mad around town and deny our baby?" I chuckled, imagining his lunatic walk through the streets.
"No. To be honest, I would have expected something like that than this, but it's a nice surprise. It's enough that one of us is scared to death. Thank you for keeping a cold head."
"Don't get used to it, love. C'mon. I know where to go."
In less than five minutes, we got to the building and waited in line. There were many other people in the waiting room, but what caught my attention the most was a couple sitting in the corner. Husband and wife. The woman was probably in her third trimester (or had quadruplets. God, please let me have only one if there are any.) The man whispered something tenderly into her belly, and she smiled at him with just as much adoration. Involuntarily, I imagined Klaus and myself in this situation. I glanced at the tense vampire next to me. He was also staring at the couple.
"Y/N Y/S?"
"It's me."
"Are you going alone or do you have any company, dear?"
"My boyfriend is coming with me." I said, taking Klaus' hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw an amused smirk on his lips. We started walking hand in hand behind the doctor. The vampire leaned toward me.
"Boyfirend, huh?" he whispered in my ear, clearly pleased with the situation.
"Don't get used to it, love." I repeated his earlier words, trying to imitate his tone of voice. The man chuckled, politely following the doctor with me.
I had to admit that it was funny to watch Klaus in such a... strange situation. His nervous, slightly stressed demeanor gave me courage as I lay there waiting for the ultrasound results. The cold gel tickled slightly, but I gritted my teeth, waiting for the final confirmation of my fate.
"There it is. That's your baby. Congratulations!"
Klaus put his hand on my shoulder and leaned gently toward the small screen. I stared at the tiny speck as if it were enchanted. It really was happening. I will be a mother.
"Do you want to hear your baby's heartbeat?"
"Could you give us first a second alone, doctor?" Klaus spoke as he saw me still staring blankly at the screen.
"Of course. I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Oh, my God. It's real. We'll have a baby." I choked out after a few seconds of silence between us.
"You took that information really quickly, love."
I punched him lightly on the shoulder, finally turning my attention to the man standing next to me.
"Stop joking with me. Aren't you scared? I mean, a few hours ago we were on the other side of the country, living our lives, and now we're looking at some stain, which is our baby. Are you that calm, or am I being dramatic?"
"Of course I'm afraid, but I know we're going to figure it out. Maybe if it were someone other than you, I would be paranoid and mad, but it's you. With you by my side? Nothing can go wrong." I burst into tears at his emotional confession. Stupid pregnancy hormones.
"Come here, you idiot." I wrapped my arms around his waist and snuggled into him. "I hope Katherine got our things back."
"Yes. Speaking about her..." he said, moving away from me to look at my face.
"She is staying with me and you're not going to kill her." I said it in a tone that left no room for any objection. It's been 500 years; whatever conflict there was between them should be over by now.
"Absolutely not."
"Yes? So be prepared that if this little one is a girl, she'll be named after aunt Katherine, who couldn't be there for her mom because her dad is acting like he's on his period."
"You know you've been pregnant for a few hours, and you're already using it against me?" he asked resignedly. The grimace on his face was a clear sign of my victory.
"Get used to it. You're stuck with me for a while."
"I think I can work with that. Let's go home. I think uncle Elijah and Katherine will want to see the first photo of the newest member of the Mikaelson family."
~•♤♤♤•~
*Two months leter*
"Good morning, Y/N"
"Morning Elijah." I grunted from my book, never taking my eyes off the text I was reading.
"Have you eaten yet? Want me to make you pancakes?"
"Actually..." I didn't have time to answer, because an extremely happy hybrid came out of the kitchen with a large tray on which was my breakfast.
Elijah looked at his brother in disbelief as he sat comfortably next to me on the couch and began feeding me with a fork while I continued to read my book as if nothing had happened.
"Niklaus. Can you explain?" his brother was shifting his bewildered gaze between us.
"His werewolf hormones tell him to look after me. So when I told him I wasn't having breakfast today because I didn't want to stand in this heat by the stove, he made it his morning's main goal to make me a decent meal. At least Marcel and the witches will get some rest from him today."
"Werewolf hormones?" very amused Kol entered the living room, staring at the hybrid with a malicious smirk.
"Yes, brother. Werewolf hormones." Klaus' cool tone caught my attention away from the book.
"Of course... your werewolf hormones. So that's what they call it now. Just don't flood Y/N with this sudden tenderness, or the girl will get scared and run away from you again." before Klaus could make any move towards his younger brother, I grabbed his hand and moved him so that I could get more comfortable on his chest.
"He is weird." I commented as I took a grape from the bowl and popped it into Klaus' mouth, much to Elijah's astonishment.
"Weird? No. Just a little joker. I have to go now. I'll meet you later, Niklaus. Please, don't start without me."
"Do I want to know what he was talking about?" I asked, giving him a curious look.
"It depends. Will you get angry?"
"If it has to do with that teenage witch, Davina, that your adopted son treats like a daughter? Probably." his silence was an answer enough. I pulled away from him, eyeing him disapprovingly.
"Klaus."
"Yes, love?"
"Promise me you're not going to hurt her."
"And what does it matter? I'm not Elijah, how sure are you that I'll keep my word?" my angry look, however, fortunately made him give up. "Alright. She'll be fine." he sighed, rolling his eyes.
"Thank you. On the way back, you can stop by the store and buy me more chocolate and ice cream."
"As you wish."
He got up from the couch, placed a quick kiss on my already-showing belly, and left the living room, passing Rebekah as she entered. His sister looked at me curiously.
"What?" I asked, fed up with her penetrating gaze.
"Nothing. You two seemd very... compatible with each other. I'm impressed."
"Well, he's the father of my baby. We have to get along. For the baby's sake, it's best if we're friends."
"Surely." she hummed, completely unconvinced.
"Rebekah. What do you mean?"
"I mean that "just friends" wouldn't act that way. My brother never treated anyone with such affection. He's doing everything he can to impress you. For a bloody hell, he even changed his plan to take over the city for you!"
"She is right." Katherine walked past her and threw herself on the couch next to me. "He does everything he can think of to make you fall in love with him. For example, that "almost date" at the best restaurant in New Orleans last week. Or the fact that you've been given unlimited access to his credit cards, safes, stashes of clothes, and God knows what else. Or that weekend out of town so you could relax. Do you think they seriously didn't have a second room with two beds in the hotel?"
"Nik used the one bed trope? He's even more desperate than I previously thought." Rebekah snorted as she poured herself a glass of whiskey.
"Even if what you say is true, which I doubt, I have no intention of changing anything. Klaus and I work well as friends, and for the sake of this child, we will continue to be them so."
"So you don't love him back?" Rebekah questioned, coming to me, so she could stay in front of me. Her evaluative look somehow made me feel guilty.
"It doesn't matter what I want or feel. The most important thing for me is my child and I will do everything to ensure at least a little normality for them. If Klaus and I tried to be together and it didn't work out... At least this child deserves reasonably normal parents."
"What if you were happy together and created a loving family? Wouldn't that be better for everyone?"
"It's not worth the risk, Bekah." I replied, getting up from the couch to escape the inconvenient conversation with the original vampire.
"Risk of what?"
Losing him.
I didn't answer as I left the room. I decided to hide in the library for the rest of the day and try to forget the doubts the blonde had stirred up in me.
But my wild imagination did not give up so easily. I began to consider a possible relationship with Klaus. Despite what I told the girls, I wasn't blind to Klaus'… flirtatious remarks and behavior. I saw every long, stolen glance at me, every quick look at my lips during any conversation, and most of all, the longing shining in his eyes that was so similar to mine and that I somehow managed to hide from him.
I wanted to spend my life with him. But I also knew that I'm not enough to keep him away from his scheming and fighting for power. For the good of this baby, I had to be content with being his formal one-night stand and friend at best. Even if my heart yearned for him every single day.
Thinking about my unattainable future, I didn't even notice when I got to the library. But I certainly saw two people kissing in the room.
Klaus and Camille. At least he cleared up all my doubts.
I was probably the only one who noticed how my heart shattered into a million pieces. At least until Klaus pulled away from her, confused, and spotted me in the doorway.
"Y/N." he whispered, terrified.
"I'm sorry, I didn't want to interrupt… I'll leave you alone."
"No! Y/N, wait!" he shouted, trying to get to me, but before he got even a step closer, I used my magic to teleport myself to a New Orleans street.
I leaned against the building next to me as the first post-teleport symptoms started to hit me and my head started spinning a bit. I shouldn't have done it while being pregnant, but well… I couldn't stay in the same room with these two any longer.
Once I had recovered, I decided to order myself a hot chocolate and sit with it in the park to collect my thoughts. I had to come up with some clever, eloquent way out of this predicament. And most of all, refrain from crying.
Thinking about this situation, after all, everything happened as I wanted. Klaus had found someone else to adore, so I could stop worrying about the deterioration of my relationship with the Mikaelsons.
We would be friends.
Just as I wished.
The only problems were my stupid broken heart and festering feelings of jealousy.
I wiped a tear running down my cheek with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. I shook my head, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself down. Something that stupid couldn't get me off balance. I had to be strong. If not for myself, then at least for this little one.
My phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my pants pocket and glanced at the screen to see the photo of Klaus sleeping with me on the couch that I had set as his contact picture.
I remembered that night. It was one of the first month at the Mikaelson Mansion and also my favorite.
"Can't sleep?" Klaus stepped out of the shadows to stand in front of the fireplace, which flames I had been staring at earlier.
"Not even tried."
"May I?" he asked, pointing to the blanket that covered me. I nodded, opening the hem so he could slip into the space next to me. He put his arm around me, moving us into a more comfortable position. One of his hands automatically went to my slightly rounded belly. I sighed, resting my head against his shoulder, and returned to staring at the flames of the fire. "What's bothering you?"
"Remember when Tyler kidnapped me and…"
"Please tell me you're not going to lecture me again about how I shouldn't have attacked Elijah." he interrupted me with a groan of displeasure.
"I'm not, but your brother didn't deserve this. Even if he was talking some shit about you. You knew I would never believe it."
"You wouldn't?"
"Of course not. You always try to protect your family, not always in a good way, I have to admit, but still, I know you would never use your own child for your games. I trust you." he tightened his grip on me and cleared his throat.
"It's good to know you're at least on my side, love."
"Your siblings too. If you'd just let them in, maybe you'd see it too, but that's a topic for another time."
"I know better ways to spend my free time with you, love. One of them brought us to this situation." he smiled slyly, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"Very funny, but we have to talk about something serious."
"I'm sorry. What are you thinking about?"
"Have you ever thought about whether there is a chance for our child to be… a tribrid?"
"Tribrid?" he asked, confused, stopping to play with my hair.
"You know. You're half vampire, half werewolf; I'm a witch, siphon, but still… Can our baby inherit all of this from us?"
"They might as well only have the gene of a werewolf, a witch, a vampire, or a hybrid. I think all options are possible. Maybe in my mother's grimoire we can find the answer to that question. These books are as old as the world."
"You can include the birth of a miracle baby in your search. I hope we won't summon a demon into the world." I joked, turning slightly to look at his face again.
"I thought you already knew that the demon has been walking around this world for a long time, and you're cuddling with him on the couch. By the way, it's our search."
"Our? You seriously want to just give me access to your mother's precious books? The same ones that have so much knowledge inside them that you won't let any other witch see them whole, or even your siblings?" I was shocked. I would never in my life expect something like this from him, but on the other hand, he has done astonishing things many times before.
"You're different."
"Like how?"
"I trust you."
"You did?" I whispered after a few seconds of silence. Those words were more striking than three others of equal importance he might have said to me. Klaus doesn't trust people that easily, I think he falls in love with them more often…
"You wouldn't be the first to hear about all my plans if I didn't. Besides, you're the mother of my heir..."
"Keep treating your family like a fucking dynasty, and you'll have to buy me a crown and my own castle." I cut him off when I heard that horrible term for our baby.
"Why do you need a castle when you already have your throne, love?"
"You're impossible." I chuckled at this awful attempt at flirting.
"That's why you like me."
"Maybe." I yawned suddenly, unaware of how tired I was. I felt the hybrid's soft, warm lips against my hair before both the blanket cocoon and his grip tightened around me.
"Sleep. I'll stay with you and I will chase away your nightmares."
"How did you know?" I asked, feeling him gently brush away the strands of hair that had fallen over my eyes.
"I know you. Besides, I can hear everything through these thin walls. I would rather hear your screams for other reasons than nightmares."
"Deviant."
"Only yours." I heard as if through a haze before falling into a deep, peaceful sleep.
The next day, Katherine found us sleeping together and took a picture of us. One of my favorites.
Before I could answer the phone, I felt someone snatch it from my hand, and something hit my head at breakneck speed, knocking me out. Stupid witches.
~•♤♤♤•~
~A few hours later~
I was kneeling in front of the crib that Katherine and Rebekah had set up after the whole witches' fiasco. After those damn witches kidnapped me, they cast some strange spell on me and the baby to speed up her (as it turned out) growth and thus her birth.
A few hours ago, I was a human pregnant with a hybrid. Now I was a heretic, the mother of the thyrbid, the most powerful creature on earth.
I guess life with the Mikaelsons was all about sudden, unexpected changes. At least they weren't boring.
Elijah, Kol, Klaus, and Marcel were running around the city, killing the last witches who had allied with Esther. Rebekah and Katherine have been delegated to look after me and the baby until the boys get the hang of the situation. A bit sexist, but I didn't have the energy to argue about it. Not after I so impressively returned to the graveyard and killed half the coven.
After feeding on the blood from the bag, the girls gave me a moment alone with my sleeping daughter. Her first day in this world, and she was already trying to get killed.
"Y/N." Klaus' tired sigh snapped me out of my thoughts. For the first time in hours, I shifted my gaze to something other than my daughter and met a face as tired and bloodstained as mine.
"Hi." he knelt uncertainly beside me, glancing at the baby sleeping in the cradle.
"She is beautiful. So similar to you." he whispered softly, afraid he would wake her up at any moment.
"She has a look of the devil in her eyes. That's all you."
The girl stirred in her sleep, as if hearing us talk about her. Two loving, child-infatuated looks appeared on Klaus' and mine's faces.
"She needs a name. You made a decision?"
"I was thinking about Zoe and Caitlyn. But I think we both know that Katherine Jr. is the best fit for her."
"God no." I chuckled, trying not to wake the baby after seeing his terrified look..
"Got a counterproposal?"
"Hope."
"Hope. That's actually nice. Hope Mikaelson."
"Mikaelson?"
"What? Are you not the father?" I asked teasingly.
"I'm but... I thought you'd want her to have your last name."
"Mikaelson suits her better." I replied with a shrug.
"Well, then I guess it will be Hope Y/N Mikaelson." I smiled at him, resting my head tiredly on his shoulder. We both stared in awe at the new member of the Mikaelson family.
"How did you come to that? Hope?"
"With Elijah's little help. When I found you… dead. Elijah said that I ruined our family's last hope by making out with this bartender, which, by the way, is not exactly true."
"Klaus..."
"No. Let me finish. I've never been so helpless and scared in all my life as I was a few hours ago. Never, not even in the worst, darkest moments of my life, have I been so broken, so despairing, than when I held your dead body. Whatever you think now, whatever you feel, the truth has to be told. I love you. I've loved you since the first time I saw you, and each day only brings me closer to you. You're the only one who can make me so mad, terrified, or happy. You taught me unconditional love, and even if you don't share my feelings, I want you to know that you completely changed me. It will be my life's purpose to make sure that our daughter and you are safe and satisfied." I stared at him with tears in my eyes, listening to his touching confession.
"I was so mad at you and Camille, but... I can't blame her; falling for you is as easy as breathing. Not when I did it a long time ago."
"You did?"
"Yes. And I don't want to hide it anymore. I can't hide it anymore. As I turned into vampire, everything I feel for you since all this time is more intensive. My desires, my love, and my longing - I feel them so much that I can't even imagine spending one more hour without your words, touch, or kiss. I don't want to live in a world where we're just friends. So if you promise that this is forever, then I..."
Klaus cut me off, pulling me into a longing, long-expected, passionate kiss. I moaned into his mouth, pulling him as close as possible by the strands of his hair. At one point, I bit his lip until it bled. My new ability was immediately activated. My fangs slid out of my gums by themselves, digging into his lip and sucking more of his delicious, sweet blood. We broke apart when we were completely out of breath. Klaus licked his lips, staring lustfully at my black-veined face and bloody mouth.
"I promise. You're mine. For always and forever, love."
"And you're mine. For always and forever."
"Aw... Congratulations, Nik! It only took you one child to make her yours. I thought it would take you at least three." Kol suddenly appeared in the doorway, interrupting our moment.
Klaus growled at him and threw the baby monitor at his brother. Kol dodged at the last second and tossed the device back at him, sticking out his tongue before he ran as fast as his legs could take him. I giggled, drawing the hybrid into a tender kiss.
Yeah, I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.
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Last Minute Changes - Jake Kiszka’s Version
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A/N: Remember when I said Sam was Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker coded?? Yeah, well… So is Jake, and since we have now experienced so much Ballerina Jake on stage, I just couldn’t help myself. Also disclaimer, I haven’t done ballet in 5+ years now, so please forgive me if I misname anything. Also, if you are not familiar with the Nutcracker pas de deux, I have linked it HERE for you to go watch (I recommend watching it before reading this, if you have the time or even just the desire to!). Please excuse any errors as always, and I hope you all like it! <3
WARNINGS: Excessive language, excessive practicing, some name calling (bitch, asshole, etc), hate!fucking, asshole!Jake, degradation, fingering, edging, slight mirror play, overstimulation, choking, biting, sort of public sex? sex in a studio, unprotected sex.
MASTERLIST
••••
“You two will be excellent together!” You can hear the smile in your choreographer’s voice. At least one of you is excited. “Well, have a lovely day, dear and I will see you back tomorrow to continue rehearsals.”
You say your goodbyes and hang up the phone, immediately sighing to yourself as you toss your phone to the side.
This is just great, you think to yourself.
What are the odds that the original Cavalier would suffer an injury and have to back out and Jake of all people, will be the one stepping in. It’s a serious lose/lose situation for all parties involved.
It has been quite some time since you’ve worked with Jake Kiszka, but to your knowledge he is no different than he used to be. Arrogant, cocky and an absolute asshole. Not to mention, the extensive hours that he chooses to practice are arguably a little unhealthy and excessive. Though, you have to give a nod to the way he strives for perfection. He’s one of the most talented dancers within the Ballet company the two of you work for. It’s admirable in its own sort of fucked up way.
Not that you don’t strive for that same level of perfection, you just have a different view and approach on how to get there.
After a moment or two of sulking, you decide to call Danny. A fellow dancer at your company and one of your best friends - but also a pretty close friend of Jake’s, you’re almost certain.
The phone barely rings twice before an excited Danny is answering the phone.
“Hello?” Danny’s voice finally cuts through, warm and genuine. As it always is.
“Hey! So uhm…” you start to trail off. “You know Anthony, right ? The guy who was originally the Cavalier?”
“I do, why? What happened?” He asks, concern and curiosity seeping into the way he speaks. “You sound kinda upset...”
“Oh, I’m definitely upset… Anthony has an injury and is being required to take a break…” you pause for a moment, before adding more details. “I mean, he seemed to be in some pain when we were practicing last night, but he told me not to worry.” A long sigh pushes out of your lungs. “But, now Jake is Cavalier...”
What you can only assume is slightly stunned silence, takes over his end of the phone.
“Jake…?” He questions finally. You can practically see his raised eyebrows and wide eyes. “Jake is Cavalier now?”
“Yeah…” You confirm, sighing heavily at the incredibly draining thought of it. “Danny, I don’t even know what to do.”
“Are you joking? What do you mean you ‘don’t know what to do?’” Danny practically scoffs at your words. “You’ve always wanted this part. You would really let Jake ruin this for you? That’s kinda ridiculous, bug.” He scolds you. “Not only that, but you’re already well into rehearsals. You’ve only got a few days left before dress rehearsals start up.”
“Danny, Have you not worked with him?!” You laugh humorously into the phone. “He’s an ass. A complete and total fucking ass.”
Danny laughs at your little outburst, immediately taking up for his friend. “I have and… yes, he can be a lot to handle, but he’s a perfectionist. Everything he does on stage has to be perfect, in his mind.”
You bite at your bottom lip, not at all soothed by Danny’s words whatsoever. You’d made up your mind about Jake and that was that.
“You two will be phenomenal together,” Danny says, breaking the moment of silence. “Give it a go. Don’t just throw away your dreams of doing sugar plum just because of this.”
“I’m really not… it’s just… I really don’t wanna have to do that pas de deux with Jake.” His name spits out of you with pure distaste, making Danny laugh lightly. You can imagine the gentle shake of his head, too.
“Like I said… you two will be amazing,” Danny reiterates, tone warm and genuine. “Don’t stress it too much. Just do what you do best and I’m sure everything will be cool.”
<>
The first few days of rehearsing with Jake go… well, anything but smoothly. Things are rocky and feel out of place, some parts of the routine having to be changed to suite you and Jake, instead of you and your original partner, Anthony.
And today’s practice rolls around too quickly, just like the last three days have. You go to bed, only to wake up feeling like you only slept for a solid five minutes, before you have to get up and reconvene with Jake all over again.
For the first time since joining this professional company, it feels like actual work. Not that it isn’t always work, but you’ve not ever felt this genuinely frustrated by the thought of going to the studio.
The door of the building slams closed behind you, finally separating you from the chilly, early December air.
You make your way down the long hallway, towards the room that your instructor had originally assigned for you and Anthony to use for practicing your Pas De Deux, but has now been for you and Jake.
As you reach the door, you can’t hear anything from the other side of it, and you wonder if Jake is even around yet. In all fairness, you are incredibly early. However, you’ve come to know that Jake takes early to a whole new level.
You open up the door to find he’s nowhere to be seen. Though he isn’t present just yet, realization is like a slap across the face, as it has been each day since you’ve started rehearsing with Jake.
It hits you in a brand new wave. Every. Single Day: This is really happening. You are stuck with Jake from now, until the end of the run.
But, there’s never enough time to dwell on what’s already in motion - which you’ve come to realize that it’s probably better off that way. You shove all the thoughts and feelings stirring up, as far back as they will go, placing your bag and coffee down, so you can begin getting ready to warm up.
Unfortunately for you, not nearly enough time passes before the sound of the door handle is beckoning for your attention and Jake is stepping through the doorway.
You turn to face him, a tight lipped smile being the only thing he offers you as he turns around to close the door. So, you return the half-assed smile and go back to putting on your pointe shoes and stretching out.
The more you spend time rehearsing with him, the more you realize that truly, he’s absolutely gorgeous. Quite possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever had the pleasure of dancing with. But, it isn’t really feeling so much like a pleasure to actually be dancing with him.
You swallow down the annoyance already bubbling up, “Do you need to warm-“
“I warmed up already,” Jake cuts you off before you can even finish your question. “I’ve been here for a while working on my variation.”
He places his things down, then makes his way over to you.
The annoyance floods right back in like it never even left, “Alright, then.”
“Let’s work on those new pieces we added.” It comes out as a command, setting your body even more ablaze.
“No need to get all bossy, Jacob.” You bite rather harshly. “That’s what I’m here for. Not to just bullshit around.”
“I wasn’t-“ Jake stops himself short, the two words sounding very defensive and annoyed.
The audacity for HIM to be annoyed.
He sucks in a sharp breath, trying to calm himself. “I wasn’t trying to be commanding.”
“Whatever.” You glare up at him, filling the space between you with even more tension.
“We can just carefully skim through the whole thing, sans the lifts, if you’d like.”
He stares at you with what can only be read as a stunned expression for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders and reaching up to roll the sleeves of his shirt.
“Ready?” Jake extends his hand out towards you, while clearly trying his best to release the unwanted tension in his shoulders.
You take his hand and let him guide you, stepping through slowly until you reach the first lift.
“Aaaand we’re skipping this part,” Jake sings in a mumble, moving with you into the next few steps.
You move with him flawlessly through it all, letting him guide you around the floor. It might even feel nice, if it isn’t for the raging distaste you have for him.
The softness of the which he handles you, doesn’t go unnoticed, though. You notice it almost right away and it slips you into a distracted daze, focusing more on the way his face keeps a calm and even expression and his body moves so fluently.
“Shit!” Jake hisses suddenly, quickly followed by a gasp from you as you bump into his body, causing you both to stumble. “Are you even paying attention?! Goddamn.”
“You grabbed my arm wrong.” You lie quickly, smirking internally as you watch pure annoyance start to show itself all over his face at even the suggestion that he’d messed up.
“You’re joking, right?” Jake snaps at you, practically burning holes into your head with his intense stare.
“No, I’m not joking.” You fire back, trying to make your eyes just as cold and harsh as his are, “There’s a lift there, Jacob.”
Any sort of normal, appropriate volume for the space the two of you occupy is suddenly out of the window completely.
“We aren’t even doing the fucking lifts right now!” Jake’s hands fly into the air dramatically.
“Jesus Christ. This is already giving me a fucking headache.” Your fingers rub at your temples and you fight to not raise you voice like Jake just had. “Let’s just start over? We can do the damn lifts this time, if that makes you happier.”
“Just don’t fucking kill yourself.” Jake mumbles, adjusting the bun hanging lowly at the back of his head.
“If something happens to me, it’ll be because you’ve dropped me.” You scoff, emphasizing with an intense eye roll. “And I wouldn’t put that past you.”
For once, you seem to have stunned him into silence for a brief moment.
“Are you not capable of just fucking practicing?” Jake questions, dropping his arms down to his sides, his shoulders slumping. “Or is it always just going to be a bitching contest?” He takes a step closer to you, pointing and finger at your face. “Because if so, I fucking quit. They can find you a new partner.”
There’s barely a beat of crippling silence before he’s adding on, “And good luck getting your shit together with him before dress rehearsal in three days.”
Your jaw drops as shock washes over you. The first instinct of your body is to simply just reach up and smack him, however, it’s not worth the consequences that will surely follow such an action.
Getting down on the floor, you start frantically untying your pointe shoes.
“What are you doing?” Jake’s volume is still a little too loud for a place of work. “Get up.”
“I have a fucking better idea-“ You pull both pointe shoes off quickly and stand back up. “Find yourself a new partner, dick.”
With that, you storm over to your bag and drop your pointe shoes inside. You grab your regular shoes and your bag, not even turning back to look at him as you make your way to the door.
So much force is put behind your movements as you jerk the door open and slam it closed as you leave.
“Woah, there, hot stuff…” Josh greets you, with an air of caution to his tone. “What’s got you so pissed off?”
“Your twin.” You respond flatly. No emotion for him to gauge in your tone whatsoever as you continue storming down the hallway.
“Right, right… Cause he got…” he sighs, trailing off.
“Yeah…”
“How about we go take a little break?” Josh suggests as he catches up with you, stopping you in your tracks. “I was about to go grab some coffee on my way home, but you can come along and i’ll just bring you back here after?”
Though, you aren’t sure if you’ll even want to come back yet, you give him a slight nod, and that’s all he needs before his arm is motioning for you to follow him.
The two of you walk to his car in silence for a minute, until you’re both inside and buckled in.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Josh asks as he starts his car.
A strained sigh forces its way out of your lungs.
“I mean…He’s just…” you pause, trying to word yourself carefully as you don’t want to disrespect Josh by talking so harshly about his brother.
But Josh beats you to the proper words you’re searching so hard for. “Hard to work with?”
You hold back the scoff that bubbles up in your throat. “Yeah… Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”
Much to your surprise, a genuine giggle leaves Josh’s lips as he drives through the little bit of lunch hour traffic lingering on the streets of the city.
“You don’t have to sugar coat it, love,” he assures you, flashing you a quick smile. “I know he can be a bit… mm…difficult.”
“He acts like I’m not also just as much of a perfectionist! I don’t get it!” Your hands gesture up for emphasis, slamming back down into your lap with a soft smack. “I felt like I was having to walk on egg shells earlier.”
“I wish I could sit here and tell you that things will get better, but…” Josh trails off, running his hand over his face. “This part is stressing him out. He never expected to be doing it… I know he doesn’t want to fuck it up. Now, that doesn’t excuse his actions, but just…give him some time. He will loosen up eventually. Hopefully…”
Despite Josh’s words being true, you don’t feel as though they’ve really soothed you very much, if at all.
“You haven’t danced with him in a really long time, either and you dance differently now. I mean that in a good way, but Jake is also having to learn how you work now, on top of everything on his end.” Josh adds, having sensed the uncertainty still lingering on your face.
“I’m not going to lie to you… I’ve been fucking up, too.” You tell him honestly. “Like our routine.”
Josh looks over at you, clearly surprised. “You? You’ve been fucking up?” He questions. “How? I watched you and Anthony do it just last week and it was beautiful!”
“I… I don’t know. I guess Jake just… makes me nervous?” You admit.
Josh turns his face towards the window, trying to hide the grin tugging at his lips until he can collect himself.
But before Josh even has the chance to formulate a response to that, you’re asking him the question that’s been burning your brain since you left the studio.
“Do you think he’ll still be there when we get back?” You ask him softly. The fear of having to go to your director and explain such an outburst between you and Jake, settling deep within your bones. Or worse, Jake has already gone to someone and explained the situation, ultimately kicking you from your role.
“I can assure you, he’ll be there when we get back.” Josh answers seriously. “He isn’t going anywhere.
The conversation about Jake drops for the remainder of your little adventure. Until you’re watching the studio slowly come back into your line of sight, as Josh drives the two of you back.
“What if he’s still mad?” You can’t help but bring the situation back to the surface.
Josh’s shoulders slump slightly, and he seems to be thinking about the best way to answer you. Because the sickening truth is, even he knows that Jake is probably still boiling below the surface, just waiting for another fuck up from you, or anyone else, to send him exploding all over again.
“Just… Don’t go back in guns blazing…” He tells you, trying to choose his words carefully. “Try to be level headed and just get as much practice in as you can. The more you dance, the less room you leave for talking…or an argument. Ya know, whichever... And hopefully, the nerves will ease up little by little, then he won’t have anything to be a shithead over.”
“Right. Because that really worked earlier.” You finally let the scoff you’ve been choking back slip out. “I’ll try again, anyway. Thank you, Josh.”
“Anytime, love. Anytime.” He waves you off with a smile as you close the door and head back inside.
“Hey!”
Just before you step inside, you hear Josh calling for you and you turn around to face him.
“If you need me to come back and beat his ass, just call!”
Your head falls back as a genuine laugh explodes from your lungs. The most you’ve laughed all day, really, and it feels lovely.
Shaking your head, it’s your turn to wave him off, trying to get inside before the cold starts to make your bones ache any more than it already has.
It’s quiet, as you’re reaching the later hours of the afternoon, daylight just barely lingering still.
You make your way down the hall, back to the dreaded, mirrored, room that you and Jake have to continue to share. Assuming he’s still here… or he hasn’t had you replaced and you just don’t know it yet.
When you reach the door, you can hear the familiar song playing from the other side. The doorknob is freezing cold beneath your hand, a drastic contrast to the heat of anger still somehow lingering in your body. Shoving it open slowly, careful not to disturb who you can only assume is Jake, you peak your head in first to see him practicing all on his own.
His movements are flawless. Each step he takes and every movement of his arms, so precise and strong. The white tights he’s wearing accentuate the muscles running throughout his legs, his black t-shirt hugging his shoulders just so. He holds himself with utmost confidence, his eyes never casting themselves to the floor, looking out into an imaginary audience, or at an imaginary partner, when his attention is meant to be focused on her.
Suddenly, you become very aware that you wish to be the one under that gentle, but attentive gaze of his - completely unlike the way he had looked at you earlier. While you may be his partner, he won’t ever look at you that way -gentle and attentive- until he’s on stage and even then, it likely won’t feel real. It will be nothing but acting. It stings, but you shove the sour feeling deep down inside you and step fully back into the room.
“Can you turn the music off for a second?” You ask him, trying to keep a cool and collected tone.
The sound of annoyance Jake lets out doesn’t miss your ears, despite the music still playing.
He walks over and pauses the music, turning to you with an expectant look - just waiting for you to have a damn good reason for essentially asking him to stop what he had been doing. As if the two of you don’t have a lot more work to do.
“I’m…sorry for earlier.” The words are a bit strained as they leave you. What’s to be expected, though? You don’t really want to apologize to him, but you know it’s the right thing to do.
“It’s alright.” Jake mutters, barely nodding his head in acknowledgement to your apology. “I’m sorry, too. Let’s just get back to it, yeah?”
You’re stunned for a moment by his returned apology, having not expected him to give you one at all. Although, you can’t bring yourself to open space for any hope that things are maybe going to get better from here. That’s something you won’t believe until you see it happening consistently. Besides, there’s still an obvious hint of something unpleasant in his tone.
“Yeah, okay…” you agree, sitting your things down. “If you want, we can just work on the lifts for a while… ya know, just for a change of pace.”
The air in the room seems thick with awkwardness, of which you’re not helping to aid at all, being that your tone is rapidly fueling it and Jake without a doubt takes notice of that.
Though, he continues to act completely immune to the awkwardness filling the space. Leaving you to suffer in it all on your own.
After only offering you but a short and flat, “Sure,” you and Jake move on to the lifts. Of which go smoothly… Until they don’t.
“Fucking-“ Jake grunts, arms wobbling slightly as you struggle to find your balance in his hands. “Shit!”
No sooner than the curse of annoyance and distress rumbles out of him, you’re plummeting almost to the ground, Jake’s arms catching you just in time to save you from completely hitting the floor.
“God damnit,” Jake sighs, running a hand over his face once you are standing on your own two feet again.
“This one is just… I can’t get my balance right.” You admit to him. At least you’re being truthful.
You aren’t really sure why you’re having so much trouble. You had done these exact same lifts just fine with Anthony for weeks before Jake even became Cavalier.
Perhaps it was the tension between you and Jake. The mutual, very strong dislike for one another. The lingering bit of hostility from your’s and Jake’s outburst, not even two whole hours ago…
Or his hands on my body… Wait-
You’re quick to interject on your own thoughts. You simply cannot stand the idea of letting your mind wander off with such thoughts about Jake. You refuse to feel that way.
“I see that.” Jake’s words are once again dripping with that same amount of aggravation from earlier - Of which had lead to you storming out on him.
He throws a judgmental glance your way, likely wondering how you even got sugar plum in the first place.
“Let’s try again.” Jake steps behind you, placing his hands on your body just so, adjusting his stance as he prepares to lift you up into the air. Hopefully with more elegance and grace than the first time. “I’m going to count to three, and then you jump.”
You think you’re taking advantage of the fact that he can’t see your face, rolling your eyes at his commanding tone. Much to your misfortune, you seem to have briefly forgotten that you’re both facing a wall, perfectly lined with large mirrors.
“Can you drop the fucking attitude, for god’s sake?” Jake snaps in question, his hands squeezing where they’re planted just above your hips.
If looks could kill, the glare you send him through the mirror would have surely taken him out cold. “How bold of you to point fingers on someone’s attitude. I’m not the only one with an apparent attitude problem here.”
“I’m sorry? In case you haven’t noticed, you are the reason i’m irritated.” Jake is slowly starting to seethe again. You can tell by the way his jaw has clenched itself painfully tight.
You ignore his comment, just staring at him blankly for a moment before finally speaking up.
“Just…count to three. And lift me.” You enunciate your words firmly, sucking in a deep breath in attempts to prepare yourself.
Jake on the other hand, releases a long breath, rolling his shoulders back in hopes to relax his body, at least a little bit. “Fine, then.”
“One…” He begins to count, checking his grip on your waist. “Two…Three.”
The second he speaks the last number, you’re jumping just enough for him to gain the leverage needed to lift you up into the air above his head.
“Good. Good!” Jake praises from below you, watching you attentively through the mirror.
“Tighten your core just a little more,” He tells you, lowering you slightly as you start to wobble a bit. “Yeah, there you go.” He lifts you back up where you’re supposed to be. “Now, hold it.”
You extend your arms out, focusing solely on holding your pose. There’s still the slightest shake to your position, but you hold it pretty successfully, despite that.
“There it is.” The prideful tone of Jake’s voice makes you smile internally, though you’d spend your last drops of energy on keeping said smile off of your face for him to physically see.
“Okay, I’m gonna bring you down now…”
Jake slowly lowers you back down and you hold your next position until you feel your pointe shoe touch the hard floor.
“Thank fuck,” you sigh, relieved that it was somewhat smooth.
Of course, Jake can’t let the slightest little fuck up slide.
‘Everything has to be perfect, at least in his mind.’
“It was still shaky as hell.” Jake complains, giving a dramatic gesture with his hand.
You suck in a quick, sharp breath. The anger resurfacing is nearly blinding, clouding your vision in a red hue that you can’t hardly believe is really there.
“How do you suppose I fix that, then? Hm?” Your voice drips with a venom that’s so unlike you, normally.
“You practice more.” Jake says, as if it’s the most obvious fucking thing. Like you should have already known that.
“Wow. What prophetic fucking advice, Jake. I appreciate it,” you scoff, crossing your arms like a pouting child.
“Since you obviously don’t think you need it, let’s run it, then. Start to finish.” Jake suggests, knowing good and well he just wants to try and prove a point.
With a cool shrug of your shoulders, you agree. “Fine.”
Jake saunters over to his phone, where it lays right by the speaker sitting on one of the chairs, and presses play.
The familiar and oh-so beautiful orchestration starts to fill the room - it brings butterflies of realization to life in your stomach. This is your dream role and while you may be doing it with the absolute last person you would have ever picked on your own, you know in the end, once the two of you work out the kinks of your mutual dislike, you will be a flawless pair.
You take your first few steps that lead you to Jake, where you finally come to meet in the middle and delicately, you lay your hand atop of his palm. His fingers close carefully around your hand, then, lifting your arm above the two of you to slowly spin you around.
There seems to by a shift in the energy within the room and between the two of you, and it’s most certainly a welcomed shift.
As you continue through the routine, the new found comfort of dancing with him slowly overtakes you. Unfortunately, the burning sensation his hands leave in their wake as they help guide you, is making it harder and harder to focus. And of course, that only makes frustration bubble within you.
*Why can’t I dance with him? Why does he have to affect me so much? I don’t like him. He doesn’t like me.
Questions upon questions bounce around in your mind, inevitably distracting you from the important task at hand. It’s dangerous waters to swim in, the closer you get to the crescendo of the song; running the risk of one of you getting hurt somehow by lack of focus.
Focus. Focus. Focus.
You internally chant the word to yourself, desperately trying your best to pull your mind back to one collective place.
“Come back to me.” Jake’s tone is firm but not angry, as he prepares to bring you into the first lift.
Here goes nothing.
Forcing your brain to remain solely honed in on the task at hand, Jake’s hands find your waist and in the blink of an eye, he’s hoisting you into the air, much smoother and more elegantly than the first time.
And by some complete miracle, the first few lifts go flawlessly. Jake even finds it in himself to give a few mumbles of praise and encouragement as you go.
That confidence and momentum doesn’t carry through nearly as long as you hoped it would, though.
As the music builds and builds up to the first of what you would consider the “big” lifts, your heart rate increases. Suddenly your hands are clammy and a little shaky, and your stomach has twisted itself into a sickening knot.
Jake’s so into it, that you can’t bare the idea of asking him to stop, simply because your nerves have taken over. So, you continue into the lift, against your better judgement.
You make it into the air without much trouble, but as Jake brings you down into the next move, your form breaks and causes him to nearly drop you.
“Goddamn it!”
“Oh, my god!”
Both of your exclamations and curses fly out at the same time, only startling each other even more.
“Jesus christ, I knew you weren’t ready for that!” Jake shouts, hands running over his face as the adrenaline and realization of how hurt you could have just gotten, pumps through his entire body. “Do you even realize how fucking hurt you could have gotten just now?!”
“I am ready!” You argue right back, completely ignoring the hint of concern he was displaying for you.
“No, you are fucking not!” Jake’s voice booms, like a bang of thunder that shakes houses, after lightning has struck something. “We wouldn’t be having so much goddamn trouble if you were!”
“I didn’t have all these problems with Anthony,” you point out, matching his unruly volume. You even dare to take a step closer to him.
“What’s the difference?!” He practically screams, taking a step equal to the one you’d just taken. “We’re doing the same routine, for the same show! What. Is. The difference?!”
“Because you’re, you!” Your arms fly up into the air, before smacking back down against your sides.
Jake tilts his head back almost challengingly. “I’m what?”
“You’re the favorite! The one Everyone wants to have the fucking pleasure of dancing with!” You emphasize your words dramatically as you yell nearly right in his face. “You never fuck up anything! Ever!”
“And does that make you jealous?” Jake questions, his tone becoming smug and arrogant.
“No, it doesn’t make me jealous! It makes me nervous!”
Though half of the sentence is a lie; it definitely makes you both jealous and nervous, as soon as the words leave your mouth, you want to snatch them out of the air and shove them back in.
“Really?” Jake raises his eyebrows at you. “Nervous, huh?”
“Yes! Nervous, you fucking asshole!” You yell. “You’re arrogant as all hell and it’s absolutely insufferable, in case anyone hasn’t told you! It’s a nightmare trying to work with someone who is constantly picking apart every little move you make!”
“First of all-“ Jake wraps his hand around your pointed finger and shoves it roughly out of his face. “-Get your finger out of my damn face. And stop fucking yelling at me.” His eyes burn through yours, knocking you down a notch, but you refuse to outwardly show it. “Second, you shouldn’t be talking. You get everything handed to you, like the perfect, pretty little thing you are. You hardly have to work for shit.”
You snatch your finger out of his grip and immediately fire back at him. “I don’t get anything fucking handed to me.”
“But you do!” Jake chides, hardly making a legitimate point.
“No, YOU DO, Jake!” And now you’re back to screaming, throat threatening to go raw by the strain you’re putting on it. “How do you think we got here in the first fucking place!”
“If I got everything handed to me, don’t you think I would have had this from the beginning?!” Jake nearly closes the little space between the two of you, with one more step. “Don’t you think I would have gotten it first, instead of Anthony?!”
A wicked smirk grows on your face. “Right, right. So you’re just their backup, huh?” You watch as Jake’s face grows red and his eyes flash with rage. “Not even good enough to be cast as Cavalier the first time, are you?”
“You should be concerned about the fact that we start dress rehearsals in two days and you can’t even get all the damn lifts right.” Jake jabs.
His close proximity is making it hard to think anymore, the features of his beautiful, anger-hardened face proving to be a major distraction from the comeback you should have been already able to conjure up.
“Well, they- their hopes can’t be but so high, now that they’ve had to settle for you.”
Jake’s jaw visibly tenses, causing the muscles to protrude around his cheekbones and down his neck, the crease between his brows setting in even deeper.
Before you can even bat an eye, or open your mouth to add a little more gasoline to the already raging fire, Jake’s hand is tightly wrapping itself around the back of your neck.
“Is this entertaining you?” You can see Jake’s free hand gesture about, through your peripheral vision. “Being a little bitch?”
You’re frozen, stuck in place - not only because of his grip on you, but because you can’t decide if you actually want to move away.
One might find that name absolutely enraging, but apparently you don’t, considering the way your cunt throbs as the word travels from his mouth, to your ears.
“Fuck you.” You spit through gritted teeth.
“Would that make you less bitchy? If you fucked me? Hm?” Jake taunts, clearly taking in the newfound enjoyment he’s getting out of this.
“Call me a bitch again.” You say threateningly, but it holds no real weight. You just want to keep up the fight a little longer, perhaps a bit too addicted to the way he’s making your blood boil.
“Or what?” Jake all but growls, leaning his face in, so that he’s right next to your ear. “Are you gonna storm out of here like earlier? Like the little fucking brat you are?”
Your skin is screaming to feel his lips. They’re mere inches from your skin, the heat of his breath casting a heat that almost resembles when you sit just a little too close to a campfire.
“I bet you’d perform a lot better if I fucked you.” Jake speaks the wondering thought out loud. “Trained you to be a good little dancer for me.”
“Jake…” you sigh, chest heaving rapidly.
“What?” Jake seethes. “No smart ass comeback? No attitude?” He slides his other arm around your back, but doesn’t pull you quite close enough for your body to touch his. “Come on. Say something else. I dare you.”
Your thoughts spin around themselves as you attempt to conjure up another snarky comment, while Jake’s eyes stare intensely into yours, occasionally flickering down to your lips and right back up.
Finally, it comes to you.
“I’m not taking insults from a boy who probably can’t even fuck me hard enough to keep me out of rehearsal tomorrow.”
The silence that falls between you and Jake is deafening. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, hear the blood running hot beneath your skin. If you listen close enough, you might even hear Jake’s heartbeat banging against his own ribcage, too.
Neither of you move for what feels like an eternity, only adding to the tension that’s already about to burst at the seams.
Jake’s mouth opens and closes quickly, but he still doesn’t speak - only adding to the torment of the moment. Anticipation fills you up so much, you feel like you may start throwing it up.
Slowly, Jake’s eyes narrow until they’re practically shut, and his hand tightens around the back of your neck tightens.
“Are you challenging me, sugar?” The name typically used for endearment, spits out of him like it’s anything but sweet. He’s so cleverly alluding to your role as sugar plum.
“I-If that’s how you wanna see it, go ahead.” You half choke out. Your words are becoming less and less intimidating and lethal as the moments go by. “Since you want to try and prove a point soo badly.”
“I don’t think you deserve anything else from me today.” Jake says, not even bothering to fight off the smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.
Shock fills you up the second the words float out from his mouth and you’re even more shocked at the way disappointment comes along to mix in with it. You may have been annoyed with him for petty shit before, but now you’re genuinely upset.
“W-what…?” The word is barely audible coming from your breathless lungs.
Jake lets go of you and steps away, taking little steps backwards in the direction of his things. The expression adorning his face is downright evil.
“I think you heard me loud and clear.” Jake shrugs, grabbing up his things. He doesn’t even bother to take off his shoes - likely just leaving you to go off to a different room and practice alone.
You watch him, completely dumbfounded as he makes his way to the door, not even giving you glance as he goes by.
The door opening feels so obnoxious, given the newfound silence hanging between the two of you. He’s about to step over the threshold, but turns around to face you one more time.
“See you tomorrow.” He glances over you for a moment, tongue visibly poking the inside of his cheek. “And you better not fuck up.”
<>
After a horrendous night filled with constant tossing and turning, the cool light of the gloomy morning wakes you up out of the sleep, that has only just found you a few hours ago.
Begrudgingly, you force yourself to get out of bed and take a shower, then dig out a pair of tights and one of your favorite leotards. And as much as you don’t want to acknowledge it, the brief question of whether or not Jake will like it, plants itself in your head. It’s black, with long sleeves, and the daintiest lace details at the top around the chest.
You force the thought away immediately. The mere mental thought of Jake making your body tense with anger, and… whatever the hell is left lingering from last night’s little… moment.
The drive to the studio is severely uneventful. Music being the only thing to keep you company throughout the short trip over there.
Seems like you’ve been living there these last few days. Which, might not be so bad if Jake wasn’t such a constant thorn in your side.
As the studio comes into view, a lump over nerves nearly makes you choke. Last night’s interesting turn, still at the forefront of your memory, despite your efforts in trying to ignore it.
You grab all your things and make your way to the door, walking as quickly as you possibly could to get out of the cold air. A swift glance around the parking lot as you go, is enough to see that Jake’s car is nowhere to be seen.
There’s no denying the relief that washes over you. Perhaps you’ll actually be free of Jake for a little longer than normal, to perfect some things by yourself, without the intense and judgmental stare of Jake’s eyes.
Just as you’ve hoped, as you walk down the hallway to your room, there’s nothing but silence on the other side of the door. But just to be safe, you slowly push it open and peak in, only to confirm that Jake is nowhere to be seen.
You take the opportunity to practice certain pieces of the pas alone, hoping to work through most of the imperfections that Jake has pointed out, time and time again.
What you don’t realize though, is how much time actually passes as you fall into a zone. Completely locked in on what you’re doing, practically floating around as though Jake is there to guide you, except you’re doing it all on your own.
Little did you know, Jake is standing at the door… admiring you just like you had done to him yesterday. For him, it’s different; his moment or slight admiration and ogling. He doesn’t have nearly as much trouble admitting to himself that he finds you ridiculously attractive and talented.
Will he say that directly to you? It isn’t likely, but to himself, he absolutely will. Although, the odds of him telling you his thoughts, are far more likely than you vocalizing your’s to him.
Jake stands, body halfway slipped between the cracked door, intently and quietly watching you. Until finally, you turn and your stop brings you to perfect face the door.
The sudden sight of Jake makes your entire body jolt, startled and unprepared to see him in such a random way.
“Jake!” You half screech, your hand coming to grasp at your now aching chest.
“My bad.” The softest chuckle dances with his words. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine…” you mumble.
Looking at him for the first time since last night is… definitely different, to say the very least.
The air in the room has shifted and it feels so heavy that it may crush you. Given Jake’s cocky strutting across the room, you guess that he doesn’t feel it the way that you do, or he’s doing a really good job at ignoring it. Like he always does. Yet another thing about him that you envy; his ability to be so unaffected.
“You- uhm… How long were you watching from the door?” You ask him timidly, chancing a quick glance at him as he sits down his things.
“Long enough to see that you’re perfectly capable of a flawless and confident routine.” Jake replies, bringing a soft, pink tint to your cheeks. “Which I suppose is great, except you can’t seem to do that with me.” His tone is the slightest bit playful, but you can’t ignore the way it claws at your skin.
“A bit early to be making digs, don’t you think, Jake?” You raise an eyebrow at him, awaiting the death glare he’s sure to throw towards you any second now.
But it doesn’t come. He just ignores your little muse all together, continuing to stretch and warm up.
Silence falls over you both, as you work on a few moves on the opposite side of the room in front of the mirrors.
Occasionally, you glance over your shoulder through the mirror at Jake, but you don’t let your eyes linger on him for too long, in favor of not getting caught and the refusal to let yourself get carried away.
After a few minutes, you catch a glimpse of Jake getting up and setting up his phone with the speakers, before making his way towards you and finally speaking up.
“Ready to run this thing?” He rubs his hands together in front of him.
“As I’ll ever be,” you mumble in response and follow him back over to the middle of the floor.
Jake steps back to his phone and presses play, bringing the beautiful instrumental to life throughout the whole room.
It eases you, much to your surprise. But not enough to ignore the fires that Jake’s hands seem to be lightning, gradually, all over your body in each place that he touches you.
You do your absolute best to try and remain calm and collected, focusing solely on the dance and nothing else.
Further and further you sink into the routine, and so does Jake. It’s evident in the electric energy that’s suddenly buzzing throughout
the room. The way Jake’s eyes stare into yours so intensely, it makes your knees want to give out beneath your weight. The passion of which he’s exuding…
The way he grips your body to lift you up into the air, unintentionally gripping you harder and harder with each passing lift, until you’re certain he’s going to crush you.
You’re not sure what exactly snaps in your brain, but when it snaps, there is no going back.
"Jesus fucking christ- Put me down!" You yell over the music and Jake immediately brings you back down on your own two feet, but not exactly gently.
"Fuck- what now?!” Jake hisses through his labored breathing. “Can you not go two minutes without bitching?!”
"You have a fucking death grip on me!” You grab at his bicep for emphasis. “Are you trying to bruise me!?”
“You should feel so lucky.” Jake spits back, sarcasm mixing with cockiness in his tone.
“Oh, shut the fuck up Jacob!” You screech in his face. “The last thing I want is you leaving any kind of marks on my body.”
“Trust me, princess, I'm not interested anyway." Jake fumes, face red and jaw set tight, nose glistening with the lightest layer of sweat.
“I’m not either!” It feels like a lie, the second it leaves your mouth. But the volume behind your words, masks the way you hardly believe it yourself. “You’re just an arrogant, self centered, asshole, who always has to get his own fucking way with everything!”
“And you're a fucking bitch who never knows when to shut her mouth." Jake practically growls, his face just inches from yours.
"You’re such a piece of shit." You retaliate lowly.
"Back atcha, princess.” Jake grits, the muscles in his cheeks and neck pulsing rapidly.
"Stop. Fucking. Calling me that.” You demand.
"No.” Jake shakes his head, pushing his tongue into his cheek. “No, I don’t think I will.” He adds. "All you ever do is bitch and complain about me doing something wrong and it's so irritating. I know what the hell i I'm doing. I'm a fucking professional. It is not my fault that you're so goddamn picky about every little thing!"
"Well, excuse me for wanting to do this perfectly!” You shout back at him, praying internally that this explosion between the two of you hasn’t drawn any attention outside of the room.
"How ironic.” Jake chuckles humorlessly. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Sugar plum, but you're not even close to it.”
"It would be perfect if you didn't grab me like a caveman!” You chide, feeling the sting of Jake’s words prickling under your skin.
"It would be perfect if you stopped squirming every time i lift you!” Jake argues, throwing his hands into the air.
"Maybe if I fucking trusted you, I wouldn't get nervous when you have me in the air!” You shoot back.
“You know that’s not really why you get shaky when I lift you, but whatever.” Jake scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Maybe aybe if you weren't such a hateful little shit, you'd be able to at least pretend to trust me."
"You. Are insufferable.” You turn to walk away from him, leaving Jake glued to his spot as his brain processes what he’s about to say.
"And you clearly need to be put in your goddamn place." Jake says, stopping you in your tracks.
You turn back around to face him, taking a few little steps forward defiantly. "I fucking dare you to try.”
The challenge spits out of you, and not a bit of you thinks he’ll really see it, considering he had the opportunity last night and trashed it.
"You couldn't handle it.” Jake says simply. His words only raise your anger somehow.
"I hate you.” You seethe, closing in on him with a pointed finger.
"Not nearly as much as I fucking hate you.” He flashes you the fakest smile you’ve ever seen in your life, immediately dropping his face back to his previous, stone cold expression.
The tension hanging in the room is so thick, even a chainsaw would likely struggle to cut it. A deafening silence falls over the two of you, nothing but the sounds of both your heavy breaths to fill it.
Your teeth are so tightly gritted together, you worry they may shatter any second now as you await his next move. Because you certainly are not backing down first, from this eerily silent stand off.
Jake’s face is still sharp and set with anger, not even a glimmer of that chocolaty brown left in his eyes.
Just as you open your mouth to foolishly provoke him even more, he’s lunging for you, roughly gripping either side of your face as his lips sloppily crash into yours. You can’t stop yourself from kissing him back. He tastes intoxicating in the best and worst way. A drug that now that you’ve had just a taste of, you aren’t sure you’ll be able to put it down.
Haphazardly, Jake starts guiding you backwards towards the barre, not even breaking the kiss to make sure that’s where he is going. Like a man about to die of thirst, he drinks in the whimper that you release, as your back collides with the barre. His hands find your wrists, and he shoves them up above your head and pins them there.
“Tell me to stop.” He huffs out through rapid breaths, free hand staying planted on the wall by your arm.
"I thought you were putting me in my place.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Or are you all talk?"
Jake just growls, swiftly reaching down to cup your heat, making you gasp desperately. His foot kicks your legs farther apart, middle and ring fingers stroking over you so lightly, you could scream.
Except you can’t. You’ve been struck with utter speechlessness, thanks to the sudden advance and the merciless ache he’s creating between your legs.
“What? Nothing to say now?” Jake questions tauntingly. “I think this is the longest you've been quiet around me. It’s truly a nice change"
“M-maybe you're just not doing a good enough job," you stutter, pressing yourself into the palm of his hand.
"The way you’re stuttering and the wet spot that I can feel right here, says otherwise.” Jake’s fingers tap against you.
You let out an exhale that is dripping with attitude, but make no move to break away from Jake. And you won’t, really. You both know that at this point.
“Do you get tired?” Jake mumbles, leaning in to ghost his lips over your cheek. They trace around, until he settles on your ear. “Do you get tired of being so defiant? Being a fucking brat and causing me so many stresses? Does it get you off?”
“What if it does?” You answer in a whisper, trying to turn your head towards his, but he isn’t having it.
His hand comes up from between your legs and wraps around your throat, causing you to whimper at the loss of contact.
“Let’s get something clear,” Jake starts lowly, his voice rumbling like nearby thunder as he begins to warn you. “Drop the fucking games, or I’ll make sure to fuck you so hard, you’ll have to fucking crawl your way out of here tonight.”
“I will never give you such satisfaction.” You know you’re about to eat these words, but you can’t find it within your being to care.
Faster than what your brain is capable of processing at this point, Jake is turning you around to face the mirror, leaving you no choice but to grip the barre in front of you.
“Then take it.” Jake says, pressing himself against your ass and wrapping his other hand around your jaw. “Take everything I fucking give you, right here. And when I’m done-“ He uses the grip to turn your head towards the door. “-I can’t wait to watch you limp to that fucking door.”
Jake’s hand abandons your jaw, his fingers hooking themselves around the top of your leotard and pushing it off your shoulders. You help him work it off your body from the front, until it finally falls down around your ankles. As you move to step out of it, he stops you.
“Ah. Don’t.” Jake uses his own leg to halt the movement of your own. “Leave it there.”
You huff, but place your foot back where it was, leaving your leo pooling on the floor around your feet.
Jake’s hands work their way up for your hips, to your shoulders, before his dull nails scratch down your back just enough to make your muscles tense and cover you in goosebumps. He repeats the action one more time, watching your body shiver under his touch in amusement.
“Beg me.” Jake commands, dipping the tips of his fingers into the waistband of your tights.
“What?” You meet his eyes through the mirror, both of you taking notice of the pink tint your cheeks take on.
“I said, Beg. Me.” Jake repeats himself, but not without placing some firmness behind his tone.
“For what?” You spit the question like it’s drenched in poison, though, you know good and well what he’s asking you to beg for.
In a blink, Jake bends down just slightly and yanks your tights down until they’re sitting just around your knees.
“Aren’t you gonna take them off?” You ask him through a scoff.
“I only take off the clothes of good girls,” Jake smirks slyly from behind you. “And you’re most certainly not one of those. Are you?”
You don’t answer him, mostly because you’re hyper focused on the way the air feels cool against your cunt, the slip of your inner thighs from the arousal soaking them and the fact that Jake is the one that has caused it.
A swift smack to your ass pulls you back to him, though.
“Are you?” Jake asks again. You can see his hand drawn back through the mirror, prepared to deliver another blow.
“No,” you finally answer, not nearly loud enough.
Smack.
“Louder.” Jake demands.
“No, I-I’m not.” Your voice cracks as you raise your volume up, hoping it will suit him.
“That’s better.” Jake attaches his lips itno your shoulder, sinking his teeth into the muscles as his fingers unexpectedly slip through your folds.
“Ah, fuck!” You cry, squirming slightly at the pleasurable pain of his teeth biting just enough to leave a bruise, paired with the coolness of his fingers. You’re ever so slowly losing your own game of defiance.
“Aw, do you not like it rough, sugar plum?” Jake asks, feigning sympathy for you as he lets his fingers tease around your dripping heat.
“I- I told you I can take it,” you remind him, but it’s hardly as believable as earlier.
“Yeah?” Jake pulls his hand away from you and smacks it across your hand again, the wetness coating his fingers making it sting just a little more.
“Jake, come on,” you beg, dying for him to pay your throbbing clit some attention, even though it likely won’t be for long.
“Oh, so now she begs…” Jake scoffs, returning his fingers to your core.
Instead of going where he knows you want them the most, he slowly sinks a finger into you, curling it upwards upon hearing your whiny moan. The force at which his finger curls into, sends you lurching forward, damn near hitting your head against the glass of the mirror.
His free hand reaches up to grip at your jaw again, forcing your head up to look at him.
“How’s that feel? Hm?” He asks, voice low and gravely, like it has to travel over rocks before it reaches your ears.
Adding in a finger, the thrusts of his fingers become deeper and the sweet curl into that spot that has your knees buckling, grow harder and more intentional - hitting the same sweet spot over and over and over again.
“Goddamn, Jake…” you moan breathily, eyes fluttering closed.
“Open your fucking eyes and look at me.” Jake commands, emphasizing his words with a particularly deep thrust of his fingers.
How he’s managing to reach these untouched places inside of you, you’ll likely never know, but you don’t really care. You force your eyes open and meet his reflection. Tendrils of his hair have fallen out of his bun, framing his face so perfectly. His eyes are dark and dancing with lust and more emotions that are too entangled to place.
“You feel like you’re about to cum…” Jake observes, pulling his soaked fingers out and wrapping his arm around your waist to reach your aching and horribly neglected bundle of nerves.
The circles he’s drawing over you are quick and tight, enough to throw you into an orgasm and completely wipe your mind blank in the process. It’s almost too much pleasure.
“Not so mouthy now, are you?” Jake snaps, cracking his hand against your cunt, before returning to the dizzying circles.
You open your mouth to smart off, but the second your lips part, the most feral moan you’ve ever heard come from your own lungs, bursts right out of you.
“You’re so much more pleasant to be around when you’re moaning instead of bitching.” Jake comments, leaning in to bite at your shoulder again.
You don’t have much wriggle room this time, as his grip around your neck keeps your firmly in place as he bites all along your neck and shoulder.
“Jake!” You whimper, so close to sounding more like a sob.
You want to jerk away from his far too skilled fingers, but you don’t want to run from the earth-shattering orgasm that he’s steadily dragging you towards.
“Do not cum yet.” Jake says against your skin, but his fingers don’t stop.
“Jake, i-“
“Nope. Don’t fucking cum yet.” Jake says again in a much harsher tone.
He’s pushing you. Seeing just how much you can take, how long you can keep yourself dangling you over that steep edge before you’re crying and pleading with him to stop, because you just can’t hold it anymore.
And you’re not far from that, as hot tears sting the corners of your eyes and the knot in your belly is aching and screaming for release.
“Fuck, I can’t-“ You choke out, gripping the barre so hard that your knuckles are paper white. Even your knees have started to slightly bend, forcing Jake to bend down with you in order to not lose the contact. “I can’t, Jake! Please, just let me!”
“Fuck no.” Jake snaps, bringing his fingers to an agonizing stop before removing them from you completely. “What makes you think you’ve earned it?”
Jake’s hands abandon you and just barely, you catch sight of him pushing his own tights and underwear down to his thighs, fully revealing himself to you, hard and practically soaked with pre cum.
As much as you want to hate every bit of this, you can’t wait have him buried inside of you. The way you imagine it will feel to have him stretching you out, hitting all the perfect places inside of you, is replacing all coherent thoughts in your brain.
“Fuck,” Jake groans, stroking himself a few times. “Goddamn how did you fucking get me like this?”
Reaching forward with his opposite hand to grip your hip tightly, he lines himself up and pushes in to the hilt, his dark eyes intently watching your face contort in pleasure.
“Yeah? You like this?” Jake asks, his words slightly rushed from his own pleasure as he moves in and out of you a few times. “Can’t believe this is all I needed to do to get you to shut your pretty fucking mouth.”
All you can do is moan. You’re far too gone to come up with a good and bratty response to that. Besides, you coming to not mind the way he sounds degrading you. It’s addicting, just like his fingers and cock.
Your chest heaves with anticipation as he continues his slow thrusts. One of his hands ventures up your spine from your hip, stopping to firmly grip your shoulder for more leverage.
“You think your dancing has imperfections now?” Jake growls into your ear, his black t-shirt grazing your bare back. “Just wait until you come in and try to dance tomorrow.”
Jake pulls nearly all the way out of you before slamming himself right back in without warning, setting the most relentless pace possible.
A choked moan rips its way out of you, the pleasure of Jake’s cock pounding into you, shooting through your whole body in debilitating waves.
“Come on, sugar plum,” Jake taunts through labored breaths. “Mouth off some more. M’sure you have plenty to say now, don’t you?”
“F-Fuck you…” You force the two strangled words out through your throat, through an array of moans a high pitched whines.
Using his bruising hold on your hip and shoulder, he brings you back to meet his thrust, driving himself even deeper with each stroke.
You can feel the pleasure shooting down through your legs, all the way down to the tips of your toes - sore and likely blistered from your pointe shoes. The sensations popping up all over your body, make you feel like you’re choking on air - little hiccups of whines and ragged, loud breaths being all that makes it out of you.
Jake’s sounds of pleasure aren’t lost on you, though. The deep grunts and growls, an occasional higher whimper falling in here and there. But god, his voice… the way he talks to you. That, you’re sure, will be what drives you into the life changing high that’s finally starting to rebuild itself within you.
“Oh, my god, Jake…” You croak, wishing you could hold onto him. Sink your nails into his shoulders and run them down his back, or arms. Anything.
“Are you gonna cry for me when you cum? Huh?” Jake asks tauntingly, raising his voice slightly to ensure you hear him over your constant moans. His hand travels from your shoulder down to your cunt, and he begins swirling his fingers over your clit.
You writhe in his hold, forcing him to wrap his other arm around your waist, the palm of his hand splaying over your chest to hold you against him.
“Nuh uh, this is what you fucking wanted, so take it.” Jake growls lowly into your ear, kissing the side of your neck just below it.
It feels too good. Way too good. You’re just waiting for your body to short circuit, as Jake continues to mercilessly pound into you, expertly toying with your clit as he does so.
“Look at yourself,” Jake scoffs, sliding his hand up from your chest to your jaw. “So fucked out and pathetic. You gonna leave looking like this?” His eyes scan over the little bruises littering your shoulders and neck. “Gonna show everyone that their pretty, sweet, sugar plum is just a little whore?”
Words have completely fled from you, as have the loud moans you were emitting before. You’ve dwindled down to nothing but a constantly open mouth, with hoarse and uneven breaths panting out, makeup running and strands of hair falling out of your bun, as your orgasm slowly pulls you under.
“Ja- Jake!” You sob, a deep ache settling low in your stomach. “I- I’m s- I-…”
“Give it up, pretty. Go on…” Jake encourages, his thrusts just barely faltering as you begin fluttering around him. “F- Fucking. Give it to me.”
The orgasm that takes hold of you, nearly ravages you. It’s head-spinning, body numbing. So all consuming that your vision and hearing go out entirely, for what feels like an eternity. Your lungs burn as your body locks in place, until you’re finally able to suck in a gasping breath and release the most pornographic cry into the room. It echos and bounces around, and Jake is quickly committing it to memory.
Faintly, as Jake delivers a few more paralyzing thrusts, you can hear him cursing under his breath. Groaning as he pulls out quickly, removing his hand from around you to work himself through his own high and spilling his release over your lower back.
His fingers have yet to come to a stop over you, even through his orgasm. You frantically grab for his wrist, whining desperately as overstimulation takes you for a dizzying spin.
Barely having regained his composure, Jake turns you around, pressing his body flush against yours as he sinks his fingers into you and uses his thumb to continue working your throbbing bundle of nerves.
“Jake, please! It’s too much, please!” You beg him, more tears prickling the corners of your eyes.
“You’re a tough girl, right?” Jake mocks, kissing your cheek with a wicked smirk on his lips. “You can take one more.”
“Jacob, please!” You beg him again, unsure of how you’re even holding yourself up anymore.
“Hush.” Jake commands, watching you with dark eyes as you start fall back into another high.
Your head falls back against the glass with a soft thud, eyes screwed tightly shut and mouth hanging agape just like before.
“That’s it, sugar plum,” Jake rasps. “You’ll give me one more because I said so. Good girl.”
Those last two little words do you in. It isn’t quite as intense as the first, but it still does you in, nonetheless. Your legs tremble beneath you, the muscles in your stomach clenching as you come undone for him again.
As you come down, Jake carefully withdraws his hand from you - soaked and glistening with your release.
You watch his movements with hooded eyes, as he brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean of you.
“Like sugar…” He hums with a shit eating grin. “How fitting.”
Bending down, Jake guides your tights back up, followed by your leo - pulling it up just to your chest.
He then takes a step back from you, pulling his own tights back up over his hips, eyes never leaving your face as you watch him in slight, post-orgasm confusion.
“It’s late,” he speaks up calmly, taking slow steps backwards. “I’ll see you back here tomorrow. Same time.”
You watch him in walk away disbelief, as you attempt to follow after him on weak and shaky legs. By the time you reach him, he’s already flinging his back over his shoulder.
He turns towards you, tossing you a little jar without any warning.
Your hands shoot out to catch it just in time to save it from shattering all over the floor and upon a little examination, you read, ‘Epsom Salt’ written across a little sticky note, taped to the side.
“Might wanna soak in a nice little bath tonight,” he suggests as he heads towards the door.
You watch him pull it open and step out, still completely speechless and rightfully exhausted, your mind spinning in a whirlwind of thoughts about what the hell just happened.
“I need those to be working tomorrow.” Jake adds smugly, quickly pointing at your legs. “Oh, and cover those marks. Can’t go in to dress rehearsal tomorrow night bruised up.”
“W-What…?! I thought dress rehearsal starts the day after tomorrow?” Your sleepy eyes grow impossibly wide.
“Nope.” Jake shakes his head once. “Best be ready, huh, sugar plum?”
With that, he leaves you to be alone with l shock and insanely sore legs, wondering how the fuck you’re going to manage a full day with him and dress rehearsals, now that he’s fucked your body to the point of no return.
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@i-choose-the-road @stillstreetjoshua @doodle417 @positivegvfthings @greta-van-fics @greta-van-chaos @gretavanbitches
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bunni-v1 · 9 months
Text
First Years Finding Out Your A Girl?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)
TW: Mild swearing, STRICTLY Female Reader, Discussion of Jack having a good sniffer (lol)
Info: Headcannons; Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel x Reader (platonic); Mostly for fun
🍓Hi. I'm back... sorta. I didn't have much time to write over the summer, and I honestly don't know how much I can write during school cause my schedule is... yikes. But I picked up something I wrote a while ago, edited it, and decided to post it. I'll be answering whatever's in my ask box right now, and then maybe work on some other stuff.
Ortho & Sebek
Second Years
Third Years
Dorm Leaders
-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?
-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.
-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.
-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)
-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)
-So how do you two do it?
-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.
-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.
-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)
-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.
-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 
-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.
-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.
-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.
-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!
-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.
-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…
-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.
-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course, but we’ll get to him).
-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.
-So… how do they find out?
FIRST-YEAR SQUAD
Ace
-He’s one of the first ones who find it out, and it’s in the very cliche anime way.
-After some point of knowing you, Ace is so comfortable that he just invites himself into ramshackle. 
-It’s never been an issue or anything. You’re thick as thieves now, you’ve survived death together a handful of times. If you ask Ace, that’s about as close as you can get with someone.
-Normally, you and Grim are just sitting around in the living area, but this time you aren’t. However, he does hear voices coming from your room. His curiosity is peaked.
-So, slippery guy that he is, he sneaks up to your room and his curiosity only grows when he hears a woman’s voice. Prefect getting lucky? And he didn’t tell him? Ace thought you guys were friends.
-He creeps up to your room, slides open your door, and!!! Holy shit it’s you. It’s you in a towel. It’s you and you’ve got tits?!?! 
-His first reaction is to… well… scream.
-“You’re a girl?!?”
“Why are you in my room???”
“You’ve got- boobs!”
 “Get out Ace!”
-Bro sits very politely and very quietly on your couch after that. Deep behind his blank stare, he is seething. You were a girl this whole time, and you didn’t tell him! He thought you guys were friends!
-He definitely fights you about it once you’re down and dressed. He’s just salty, he’ll get over it. 
-Swears up and down he won’t tell anyone.
-Immediately tells Deuce.
-That's it though! Deuce is part of the main quartet, he deserves to know! (You scold him for this too, but you figured it would happen one way or another).
-From him finding out, he doesn’t really treat you differently. You’re still a person, why should he act differently cause you’ve got different body parts than him.
-Though, and he won’t admit this, he’s a bit more… watchful of the others around you. Yeah, you can hold your own and he respects you… but guys like Azul exist, and he’s seen firsthand the torture Azul is capable of. 
Deuce
-As stated before, Ace outs you to Deuce almost immediately after finding out.
-Deuce, in all his awkward glory, completely shuts down. Disconnects from this plane of existence. He cannot believe the news he was just told.
-You, one of his best friends in all of twisted wonderland. You, the person who survived multiple overblots alongside him. You, who have seen him at his most vulnerable… are a girl.
-It isn’t even the fact that you’re a girl, it’s the fact that you kept this a secret from him for so long. You guys are… bros… how could you possibly hide something so important from him. Did you not trust him?
-Yeah… he overthinks things quite a bit.
-He also ambushes you the very next day with a million questions (very loudly (very in public)), to which you calm him down and reassure him that “No, Deuce, I don’t suddenly hate you. I wasn’t hiding it from you maliciously. I was going to tell you at some point, I just hadn’t had a good time to.”
-Deuce’s behavior definitely… changes… in some ways. 
-Deep down he knows you’re a kick-ass bitch and you don’t need to be cared for, but he can’t help but want to. 
-It’s definitely his mommy issues in play here.
-He just becomes more… protective and aware around you. Not in a creepy obsessive way, just in the same way a guard dog would. 
-Like Ace, he’s more than aware of what the people on this campus are capable of, and you’re completely magicless on top of being more feminine. Some guys at NRC would hop on an opportunity like that like nothing.
-He just doesn’t want to see his friends getting hurt okay :(
-It’s like you gained an overprotective older brother who also sometimes barks!
Jack
-Out of everyone, Jack was the first to find out.
-I don’t wanna be the cliche writer but… he’s got a sniffer on him. 
-He definitely could smell that something was up, but he didn’t want to assume! 
-You could be trans, you could be genderfluid, you could be anything other than a woman! It’s not his place to judge, and smell isn’t always the end all be all. You could just really smell feminine and that's how guys come in your world.
-Mr. Respectful would never want to assume anything… but he’s a little curious he won’t lie.
-Jack REALLY found out shortly after Ace, Deuce and Grim got their asses in trouble with Azul. 
-He’d never been given a reason to spend any more than a few minutes around you at a time. However, since he got pulled into this mess, he’s spent a lot more time with you.
-It happened when he was forced to hide under the desk in his office.
-You were so close and you just… smelled like a girl.
-He is so polite and so upstanding, he would NEVER ask you directly. But the suspense of not knowing really does take a number on him.
-By the end of Azul’s overblotting he is so awkward and nervous around you, that you absolutely have to say something.
-At this point, you figured most of the beastmen had an idea of you being feminine, however, you had no real confirmation of that. 
-Jack is such a “let's not bother other people” kind of guy, that you knew he wouldn’t want to say anything to you if you knew… so you decided to take the plunge.
-At the museum, you pull him aside and you have to ask.
_”Jack?”
“Hm?”
“You know, don’t you?”
“…”
“I figured as much. Don’t tell anyone, m’kay? I want to tell my friends on my terms.”
-It makes Jack respect you more than he already did. Not only did you have the confidence to confront him, but you did it calmly and you were understanding of his position.
-And honestly? Not much changes between the two of you.
-He just respects you a little more. He’s not particularly protective around most other students, he talks to you the same, and he doesn’t act like you’re special. You’re just… a friend. 
-The only thing that he may be different about is other beastmen. He does his best to shield you from them if he feels they might be a threat to your well-being. 
Epel
-Epel, being a more feminine-looking man himself… doesn’t think much of you.
-At this point, you’re well acclimated to things at nightraven college, and are very good at being “one of the boys.”
-His ONLY implication is how… differently Rook and Kalim treat you.
-At this point, Kalim has found out via the previous chapter, and Rook knows because of course he does. (We won’t be getting into that today though)
-They both are more… delicate with you? Rook whips out the charm times ten when you’re around. Kalim, although friendly with everyone, seems to be even MORE friendly when you’re around. Like he wants you to like him.
-Even Deuce and Ace have a few… odd tells.
-They both pointedly ensure Jamil is at least five feet away from you at all times. Glare at Rook when he’s a little too charming.
-Other than that, nothing really gives it away.
-Epel is completely and totally in the dark because you’re really good at hiding that you’re a woman.
-He does, however, eventually find out because… Deuce slips up. He’s there giving his big speech on the beach, hyping Epel up, and somehow he manages, “And the prefect is a woman, but she never lets that get in her way!”
-Epel: Shocked, confused, in awe… says nothing. He lets the information ruminate.
-He lets it ruminate for a very long time.
-So long, in fact, that he doesn’t raise his suspicions until the two of you are on a broom heading off to save Vil’s life.
-The silence was killing him, so he had to ask.
-“Prefect, are you a girl?”
“You didn’t know?”
“I couldn’t be sure, I look like a girl too, so you never know.”
“Yes, Epel, I’m a girl.”
“…Cool.”
-Honestly, he’s kind of jealous of you. You passed better than him, and you had to try harder.
-It doesn’t change how he treats you, honestly. He’s not that kind of country bumpkin, but he won’t lie and say he doesn’t have a little resentment held against you.
-He thinks you’re cool as hell, and you help redefine what femininity can look like to him much better than what Vil does.
-He, however, does actively become more protective of you. 
-Not because he thinks you can’t fend for yourself, but because he kinda wants to show off a little.
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positivelyruined · 1 month
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LINK -> A Ballad of Thorns & Roses: How the High Lord of Spring Tells his Tale
by positivelyruined 🌹🍃🎻
links: Ao3 | original writing blog | WriterGram
Summary: When Tamlin, the High Lord of the Spring Court of Prythian, finds the clock counting down to his final battle with Amarantha — two things push him into action: the sudden death and bloody sacrifice of his friend Andras and the fierce vexation of his close friend Lucien. With no more time to waste, he offers shelter to the one person that he should despise the most — the girl who murdered Andras. His heart has been bleeding for a decade. Will their connection be enough to break the bond that holds the Spring Court captive, or will this burning love only spurn Tamlin’s heart? In this tale as old as time, only time will tell. 🌹
Shoutouts: big thank you to both of my original fans and betas, @tamlinfairchild and @lorcandidlucienwill who have both dealt with endless message spam, ten thousand questions, and my endless protection and fascinations with this character. also to @sonics-atelier who will be writing poetry for this epic in the long run. 👏👏👏
also a shoutout to the entire #proTamlin community | I’m glad to know that even if I am insane, at least I’m not alone.
for a lot of people, this will be my debut into the community (although I’ve written a handful of small things). but in short, I answer to cece, alex, ‘hey you over there’ and anything generally nice. 👋 I am twenty-seven and have been writing around fifteen years. 📝 I hope you all enjoy this exercise in mindbending and my journey into fixing everything SJM broke by…writing these books.
Tag List:
Here is the tag list. DM to be added, DM to be removed. This exists in two parts, the post and the comments because it is massive which is both flattering and incredibly intimidating
@goforth-ladymidnight @praetorqueenreyna @ceridvven @simmanin @golden-shani @ontheline840 @hiddenmidnightshadows @fleetfairy @supremedolphinoverlord @papaj--p4l @siriusement @szalonykasztan00 @rin-u-pos @alegomz @kateprincessofbluewhales @generouslawyereggsstudent @prettyawordthatstuck @bettdraws @lilyslittlewife @isabiss @draconicfaenerd @alizangc @hrizantemy @fourteentrout @camreadsum @yoddhasblog @mkused @wingsdippedingold @skyesayshi @ladydevena @leanderp @jungliet-capuleet @matrixsss @samsaj-05 @theknittingoracle @not-so-civil @multifandom-reader @iamtiredcanyouhelpme @littlestw01f @springandstarlight @yaralulu @foxcort @loneliestluvr @mathiwrites @1800naveen @kookiekissez @andrigyn
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transboysokka · 11 months
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Some neat facts about Taiwan I wish more people knew
First of all and most importantly, Taiwan is NOT a part of China! It never has been! It has its own government, currency, passports, etc. The only reason Taiwan doesn't officially "declare independence" is that China would probably blow it up if that happened
Taiwan has been occupied by Spain, the Netherlands, and most recently, Japan. After World War II, Taiwan was under martial law for a long time and some terrible things happened, but now Taiwan is the 14th freest country in the world, and the freest in Asia!
Taiwan was the first country in Asia to legalize gay marriage, and hosts the largest Pride celebration in Asia every October!
Bubble milk tea was invented in Taiwan!
Taiwan has A LOT of scooters and A LOT of convenience stores! It's not uncommon to see two 7-Elevens right across the street from each other. At a 7-Eleven in Taiwan, you can pick up and send packages, pay bills, top up your cell phone, buy a coffee, do laundry, buy concert tickets, print documents, and grocery shop!
ALL Austronesian peoples originally came from Taiwan. There are still over 16 distinct Indigenous tribes today (2.3% of the population), all with their own traditions.
The garbage and recycling trucks in Taiwan play music so you know they're coming. There are mostly two specific songs, one of them being Fur Elise. A lot of Americans who come to visit think it's ice cream trucks they are hearing, but nope, it's the garbage.
Most stray dogs, especially in the rural mountains, are partially Formosan Mountain Dog, an incredibly rare and beautiful species, and one of the most ancient species in the world!
Almost all of the chips making your iPhones, laptops, or cars function, were made in Taiwan! This makes the semiconductor industry a HUGE deal in Taiwan, and makes Taiwan a HUGE deal around the world
Taiwan is the most mountainous island in the world! 2/3 of Taiwan are covered in mountains, and there are 268 mountains that are taller than 3000 meters!
Taiwan has four official languages- Mandarin, "Taiwanese" (Minnan), Hakka, and the "aboriginal"/Indigenous languages. The most widely spoken language (in the North, at least) is Mandarin, by far. Some old people can still speak Japanese.
It's not 2023 in Taiwan; it's 112 (You'll see 2023 used more and more often though, but like my National Health Insurance has my birth year as 83)
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once again, congratulations on 1k, I'm so happy for you homie :)
I have a request: X 🧜🏻‍♂️🥵 and I'll leave the 4th option up to you
Listen, if this is your attempt at getting me to write porn involving Steve’s fishy parts ... you've succeeded. Happy mermay! 🧜‍♂️
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Full of surprises
Rated: E
Words: 999
Tags: Mer!Steve Harrington; established relationship; explicit sexual content; explicit descriptions of mermaid anatomy
Notes: Shoutout to that one nonny who asked me if Eddie was gonna fuck the merussy in Just add water. (I opened that ask in a work meeting. I've never been so proud of my poker face.) Well, he never got to in the original story. We're fixing this now.
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To say that Eddie's utterly obsessed with his boyfriend would be an understatement. 
What's not to love? Steve is sweet, handsome, has a delightfully snarky sense of humor, and he drives Eddie absolutely fucking insane. 
What he loves most of all, Eddie thinks, while Steve presses sun-warmed lips to his wet skin, chasing the droplets on his throat and chest with kisses, is that Steve’s just as head over heels for him. 
Even though head over tail fin might be more correct just now. 
It started out as just another summer night by the lake. Only the two of them, surrounded by a myriad of twinkling candles (that's another thing about Steve, he's a hopeless sap). As often, their romantic date soon escalated into mock-bickering and a heated wrestling-slash-makeout session. At least they remembered to take off their clothes before they went tumbling into the water. Steve has lost one too many pairs of pants to their spontaneous forays into the lake. 
Steve's legs last just long enough to launch himself at Eddie in a flying tackle, and then they both go down in a flurry of water and flailing limbs and glistening scales. 
They end up in the shallow water, hidden by the onset of darkness and the low-hanging branches of the trees.
They've never done this before, Eddie realizes as he slips his tongue past Steve's lips, drawing the first moans from them. Not like this. Sure, he has taken his sweet time mapping Steve's body with his lips and hands, has familiarized himself with the feel of golden skin and shiny scales, the lines where the two melt into each other. Has stroked his fingers from the base of those magnificent fins all the way to their edges and reveled in the sighs and shudders it gets him. 
But they’ve never done it in the water before. Steve has always made sure to get them back to land, where they could wait until his legs returned - naked and still glistening from the water, and beautifully eager to part under Eddie’s touch. 
Today, Steve seems to have no such plans, if the way he wraps his fins around Eddie’s legs to draw him closer is anything to go by. Or the way his hands stray deeper.
“W-wait,” Eddie manages to say, “Don't you wanna-” 
Steve does not wanna, evidently, because he lets out a growl, cupping Eddie’s naked ass in a deliciously firm hold and slotting their bodies together in the water. A while ago, when he first learned about Steve’s fishy little secret, Eddie would’ve probably freaked out now - unsure what to do with the foreign shape of the tail slipping between his naked thighs, where to put his hands. 
Now though, he traces the shape of Steve’s fins with his thumbs and licks his way back into that warm, wet mouth, drinking down the answering moan it gets him. Steve sucks on his tongue and rolls his hips - one long, powerful ripple of those incredible muscles. Eddie meets him halfway, pleasure pooling warm and tight in his belly, and grinds himself down on the tail, half-hard against Steve’s body already-
-and then he stops. 
“Hold on a sec,” he mutters. “What's this?” 
Because there's … something on Steve's tail he didn’t notice before. The slightest of dips where there should be only smooth scales, right where his cock would be if he was human-shaped. It’s kind of difficult to make out in the water and the hazy candlelight, and what can Eddie say? Impulse control is hard for him. Of course he needs to reach out and touch. 
Steve makes a punched-out sound and jerks so hard Eddie almost topples off him. 
“Careful,” he hisses. “It's sensitive.” 
“It's sensitive?” Eddie parrots, still unable to take his hand off the spot. He goes gentler, though, pressing down on it slightly. His fingers slip inside, and he gasps in surprise at the slick, tight heat that engulfs them. Steve gasps, too, but not from surprise. “What is it?” 
Steve scowls at him - or tries to. He has flushed a dark, delicious shade of pink and his eyes are glassy. His breath is coming in ragged little puffs. He is, Eddie realizes, almost painfully aroused. The thought makes something warm and urgent tingle in his own blood. 
“What do you think it is?” Steve retaliates, even as his hips twitch and his fins flutter excitedly. “Did you think I was, like, sex-less when I'm like this or what? I told you I had … parts, they're just a bit different.” 
“Well, excuse me,” Eddie blurts. His flush is trying to compete with Steve's now. “I like your other parts just fine, so I never really put a lot of thought into it.” 
Somewhere around the middle of his frantic string of words, Steve's expression shifts. 
“Oh?” he hums, and rolls his hips again, taking Eddie’s fingers deeper. Eddie can feel how he clenches around them, and his cock gives a needy little throb in response. “Any thoughts now?” 
“Many,” he rasps, “So many thoughts, none of them sex-less.” 
He curls his fingers experimentally, and Steve makes a noise he's never heard from him before. Primal and desperate and positively wrecked. Eddie’s mouth twitches into a sly smile of his own. 
“Why, fish boy,” he purrs against Steve’s lips, starting to slowly pump his fingers in and out. “You've never done this before, have you?” 
Steve whines and shudders under his touch, nails digging into Eddie’s shoulders. 
“Of course not, what d’you think? You're the first I've ever- Shit, there's only you, Eds. Only you.” 
And damn, how's a guy supposed to stay calm in the face of that confession? 
“Well then,” he murmurs, brushing back Steve's hair so that he can kiss the tiny patch of scales on his temple. “I guess we're both in for some interesting discoveries.” 
That's another great thing about having Steve Harrington for a boyfriend. He never stops surprising you. 
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More celebration ficlets
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taleasnewastime · 2 years
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Inked
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Summary: You were just going for a tattoo, or so you thought. Turns out the hot guy you’ve been speaking to for weeks is incredibly turned on by the placement of your tattoo, and, well, you can’t let him have all the fun.
Pairing: Jungkook x reader
Genre: PWP; smut.
Word count: 5.3k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral (m receiving), Jungkook calls reader pet names (baby, good girl etc.), safe sex, penetrative sex.
Authors Note: This came from a drabble request (you can read the original here though it’s literally just the start of this). A part two was requested – several times – but it’s taken me a hot minute to post. I sat on it, unsure what to write next, then actually wrote it and wasn’t 100% about it, then came back to it and thought whatever I may as well put it out into the world. So here it is, I hope you enjoy :)
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“It’s not going to hurt.”
“Promise?”
Jungkook laughs, his eyes looking fond as you stare up at him.
“I promise,” he smiles. “You can hold my hand, if you want.”
You frown, Jungkook laughs again. You can’t tell if he’s taking the piss or not.
“Won’t that impede your skills?”
“My skills, huh?”
You flush even though you don’t know why. It’s not really an inuendo and of course you think his tattooing skills are amazing. You’ve been talking for a few weeks over messages now. You found his work on Instagram and messaged him almost immediately about getting some of his art on your body. This is the first time you’ve met, the day of your tattoo. It’s your first one, and though it’s only small, you’re still nervous. Excited, but nervous.
“It’ll be good,” he reassures you. “I promise.”
“I know,” you force a smile. “I’m just being a wimp.”
“You’re not,” he says flatly but firmly. “A lot of people get worried. But it’ll be fine.”
You nod. You trust him, you realise. A few, albeit long, chats online and you already know you’re in safe hands.
“Right, if you just want to hop up onto the table and take your top off.”
You flush again. It was something you expected, you’re getting your tattoo done on the side of your ribs after all, it’s just hearing him say those words does something to you. You can’t deny that Jungkook is hot. He’s not got many pictures of himself on his Instagram, most of them dedicated to his art instead, but you knew what he looked like. Seeing him in person, after getting to know him even a little, is something different.
You step towards the table, climb up onto it and turn to face him. He’s looking directly at you, but when your hands go to the hem of your top to lift it over your head he turns away. You swear you see his throat bob as he takes a seat on the rolling stool. When he looks back at you though he looks the same, composed. You guess he does this a lot, probably sees a lot of different parts of different bodies.
He rolls towards you, his eyes level with your stomach and you fight the desire to cover yourself.
“You’re, um, probably going to have to take that off too.”
It takes you a second but then you realise he means your bra. You should have thought about that, should have worn something that could have covered your modesty while also letting him access the spot you want the tattoo. It’s too late now though,
He doesn’t turn around this time. Watches as you unclasp your bra and then place it with your top. He swallows again, this time you know it’s not your imagination and his eyes look dark as he looks up at you.
“Do you mind?” He lifts up his hands.
You nod, end up widening your legs for him to slot between as he rolls forward. This is a bad idea. You should have gone with someone else. You should have at least worn something else or picked a different location on your body. Your forehead would have been better than this.
You look up over Jungkook’s head as he gently places his hands on your waist. You jump a little, knew to expect the touch but are still surprised. Jungkook gets the wrong idea, quickly removes his hands and blows into them.
“Sorry, they’re a little cold,” he mumbles.
His ears are bright red, you realise as you look down at him. He gives you a soft smile before reaching out to touch you again. He’s more sure with his touch this time, places his hands a little higher and firmer. Calloused skin runs along your ribs as he turns you a little to the side to get the right spot.
You’re fully aware of your leg pushing into his solid thigh. Can feel his left hand subconsciously going higher and higher, nearly skimming your under boob. You feel like you can’t breathe.
“Is here where you want it?” His voice is husky, and you can feel his right hand faintly tracing a spot, but that’s the last place on your body you’re currently thinking about.
“Y/N?”
You hum out, aren’t aware you’ve completely ignored him, are just trying to concentrate on not getting too wet and leaving a pool on the table.
You look down at him. His eyes are dark and his lips are popped open. His hand is definitely skimming your boob now, almost cupping it and it feels like he’s rolled a little closer to you. Your eyes dart away from his, but they go in the wrong direction. You were hoping to avoid more awkwardness, but you end up looking down at his crotch and it’s hard to miss the bulge that has formed there.
You swallow and look back up at Jungkook. His hand definitely gropes your boob now.
“Is this ok?” He asks and you find yourself nodding.
You supress the moan that bubbles up in your throat as his hand ever so gently squeezes the skin under your boob. You’re still not sure if this is how he treats every customer, it’s not like he’s touching your nipple or completely feeling you up, it feels more like he’s squeezing you to get you into the right place. But surely, he doesn’t pop a boner every time he does a tattoo. You can understand someone liking their job, but not that much.
“It’ll look good here,” his voice is low and husky as his right hand continues to trail the spot on your side, his left hand still cupping your boob. “But are you sure it’s you want it?”
You look down at that, notice a mischievous glint in his eye. You’d discussed the placement of the tattoo before coming today, told him you liked rib tattoos and he’d sent examples of his work. So why is he trying to change your mind now?
“I just want you to be sure,” he says. “You know you can’t go back when it’s done. I could draw the pattern on just to make sure you like it? Maybe we could check the other places you thought about?”
His right hand disappears from your side, his left hand moving from your one boob, twisting you so you’re sat face on and not twisted away at the waist. You’re still looking down at him, unsure what he’s about to do, still trying to control the ever-growing dampness in your pants.
“You spoke about the possibility of your arm,” his finger runs down said arm, his eyes trailing after the invisible line he draws.
“I thought we decided my ribs would look the best.”
He ignores you though he obviously hears you given the way his lips struggle to stay straight at the way your voice comes out so unsteady. His hand trails the length of your arm, down to your fingers, sparks ignite along every point he touches.
“Maybe you want it here?”
His finger has moved to your leg, delicately scraping your calf, slowly moving inwards. His other hand has moved from your boob down your side to your hip. His eyes are still trailing the movement and though you’re wearing jeans you feel as if you’re completely naked in front of him.
“Or what about here? That would be pretty.”
His finger stops on the inside of your leg, elbow resting on your knee, body fully between your legs so you can’t close them even though you really want to. His eyes flick up to you, all wide and innocent even with his hand is between your legs.
“I have stretch marks,” you manage to stutter out.
He nods, his finger almost subconsciously stroking along the inside of your thigh. Even though you think it’s supposed to be an innocent reaction to your words and though it’s through your jeans, you still feel yourself clench around nothing, have to clamp your teeth to stop from making any noise.
“That’s ok,” Jungkook says, eyes flicking down to his fingers before going back to your face. “I could have a look just to see if it’ll work?” When you don’t immediately answer he’s quick to carry on. “Or not. If you don’t want to.”
It takes a second but then you’re nodding. Jungkook’s eyes stay on you for a second as if to determine if you mean it. He must decide you do because then he’s helping you out of your jeans. Lifting your bum off the table, he pulls them down your legs, has to awkwardly tug your shoes off before he can fully get rid of them and situate himself back between your legs.
He hums, hands go to your knees and pushing them further apart. It feels like his eyes are firmly on your pants and the wet patch that you have no doubt he can see. But then he speaks and you’re not as sure.
“I think it would look good here.”
“Will it hurt?”
He looks up at you. “It’ll be fine.”
You swallow, his hand moving up from your knee to splay across your leg. It feels so different now there’s no material between your skin.
“How do you know?” Your voice is raspy as your eyes flick to his trousers. “Do you have any tattoos there?”
His lips curl upwards. His fingers tighten around your leg.
“Want to see mine?”
You nod. Eyes subconsciously going to his legs but he doesn’t go for his trousers, instead he goes for his top. The material scrapes along your legs as it goes up and then he’s shirtless. Sat in front of you, abs out, muscular arms now pressing along your legs. He holds his right arm out in front of him, stretched out across your legs. You’d seen glimpses of the tattoos up his arms, seen more on his Instagram, but sat basically naked in front of him, with his tattooed arm resting on your lap, your breath comes out of you funny.
Your eyes travel the words and the patterns and the pictures that decorate his arm. From his wrist up to his shoulder. A few of them are coloured in, others just black. It’s incredibly beautiful while also being incredibly hot. You want to ask what all of them mean, ask how long he’s been getting them done for, you feel like you’d happily talk about them all for hours.
“You can touch them if you want.”
You flick your eyes to his face, see his eyes already on yours, that same small smile on his lips.
“I thought you were going to show the ones on your leg,” you shoot back.
He lifts an eyebrow, surprised. You glance down at his legs, the view is obstructed by his arm but you can still see the bulge straining in his pants.
“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable if you took them off?”
He doesn’t move immediately and while you think maybe you’ve gone too far, you’re quick to remember how little clothing you’re currently wearing and how much he’s been happily touching you. It’s only fair he remove some more clothing.
Your hand goes to his arm, despite his muscles you can easily push it off your lap. It only takes the slight movement of your legs for him to roll slowly backwards on his chair, just enough to give you space. His eyes are pitch black as they follow you, first off the table and then down onto your knees in front of him. He doesn’t give you much of a hand as you pop open the buttons on his trousers and then do the zipper, only lifts himself up enough so you can slip the material off him.
His boxers are straining, but that’s not what you focus on.
“You don’t even have any tattoos on your legs.”
You look up at him, still sat on your legs, feelings betrayed. Jungkook looks lost as he looms over you and you find yourself look back down at his wide legs and fingers trailing patterns on his thigh much like he was doing to you before.
“How do you know it doesn’t hurt if you’ve not had one there?”
He hums, the noise showing he’s unsure. You smile at his leg, feeling giddy with the switch in power. Your finger moves up and then drifts inwards. Jungkook’s leg jumps before a low sound rumbles in his throat. You bite your lower lip continuing your movement upwards to the bottom of his boxers.
A hand slaps down on yours, stopping you before you get any further.
“Are you sure you want to?” The concern in his voice at least implies this isn’t something that he does with all his clients.
You look up at him. “I want to.”
“Ok,” he says with a small nod, his hand going loose on top of yours.
Are you really going to do this? You came here to get a tattoo and yet you’re about to give the guy head instead.
His cock is hard as it springs out of his pants. The sight so mouth watering that you become awkward with your movements, the boxers getting stuck on his knee and taking longer to pull down than they should. You hear a light chuckle above you, the noise quickly becoming a hiss when you grasp his length.
“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses. “I haven’t got any lube. Can you … spit on it?”
You shuffle forward, his legs widening to make room for you. He obviously doesn’t expect you to swipe your tongue from his base to the tip given the expletive that leaves his mouth, his hand flying to your hair. You lick along the slit at his tip before doing as he asked, spitting onto his length and then using your hand to work it around. Your lips go around his tip, your tongue trailing circles on the end of his cock while your hand continues to work up and down.
His hand tightens in your hair as you take more of him into your mouth. Hands on his thighs you feel his muscles go taught as you slowly bob up and down, take a little more of him in each time. He’s not that long, but he’s thick. If you kept going you’d be able to take him all but stop just before your gag reflexes kick in. Flattening your tongue against him you start to increase your pace. Jungkook moans out above you, his legs relaxing as his hand combs through your hair.
It's not long before his hand becomes a little more forceful. His fingers tightening between your locks, making you stay down longer on his length and then when you don’t complain he begins to thrust slowly up into you.
“That’s it, fucking take me.”
You hum before you gag around him, the vibrations causing his legs to stutter below you and a low hum to ring out around the room.
He forces you down. Tip touching the back of your throat for a few seconds, cutting off your air supply. It’s worth it, given the noises he makes above you. But all too quickly he’s dragging you off him.
“Ok, ok.”
His hand goes to your shoulder, pushing you back so that he falls out of your mouth.
“Don’t look at me like that,” his chest is rising and falling as he looks down at you.
“Was it not good?” You ask innocently making him laugh and shake his head.
He stands up then bends a little to help you onto your feet. Pushing into you, your bum hits the table and his chest comes to yours, cock still erect pushing against your stomach.
“You know it was so good,” he mumbles. “Just want to be in you.”
You realise this is the first time you’re kissing, the taste of him still on your lips as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your moan is lost in his lips as his hands go to your hips, pushing you further into the table.
His hips start to move against yours, his cock rubbing between your stomachs. His lips still moving against yours, his tongue disappearing as his focus goes onto the movement of his hips. You smile, would laugh if his lips would allow it.
You shimmy as much as you can as your hand goes between your bodies. Jungkook’s movements slow a little when he’s unsure what you’re doing and then he shivers when your hand goes around his cock. You guide it down as you stretch up, place it on your still clothed core so now when he moves you gain just as much pleasure.
“Oh,” he smiles, lips going back to yours. “You like that? Huh?”
You nod, your lips bouncing from his to his nose and back again. You feel his smile as his knees bend a little, hands tighten on your hips as he puts a bit more effort behind each thrust. He’s not even in you and yet you feel like you could come with the way he keeps hitting your clit.
Your weight collapses backwards onto your elbows, Jungkook pulls away from you, his eyes closing as he continues his steady rhythm.
“Have you got condoms?”
He ignores you, completely lost in his movements and watching the way his cock looks between you. His breathing’s laboured, his lips popped open, his eyes so heavily lidded they look closed.
“Jungkook,” you laugh, your hand going up to cup his face. His eyes open as his pace slows to a stop, he looks a little lost as he searches your face and you have to bite the inside of your lip to stop the fond smile; he looks so innocent. “Have you got a condom?”
“Oh,” he twists to look around the room, his cock slipping and moving along your leg as he does. “Uh, yeah, probably. Let me check.”
You shimmy out of your pants as he walks off to look in some of his draws. Throwing them on the heap of clothes that has formed you look back at Jungkook and catch a glimpse of the draw he’s in. There’s a half empty box of condoms in there and as he pulls one out and rips it open you bite back the thoughts that go through your mind. Maybe you aren’t the only customer he does this to. Maybe this is some weird kind of scam. God, you really hope there are no cameras in this room, because even if you stop now, you’ve already gone far enough.
“Uh, I just want to be clear, this isn’t normal for me,” your eyes go to Jungkook, his eyes wide and his ears crimson as he stares at you. He must be able to read the panic on your face. “We can stop if you want. But honestly, they’re not mine.”
You cock your head to the side and your face must reflect the fact that his statement only makes you feel more alarmed. He takes a small step towards you, his eyes going impossibly wide and his face getting incredibly redder. It’s really a sight to behold.
“Oh god, no. I just mean they’re my colleagues,” his voice is raised in pitch, his words coming out faster and though he seems to only be getting more worried, it’s surprisingly making you feel calmer. You believe him. “He goes out a lot. Like a lot a lot. And he said I could have one whenever I want. But I don’t use them. Never have. Well, that’s a lie. There was one time when I had a date after work and I took one just in case. But even then it wasn’t like this and I just want you to know that this isn’t normally how I treat my clients, but there’s just something about you and when you took off your top – fuck. I can understand if this has gone too far and if you want to stop and you probably never want to see me again and the tattoo, you definitely –”
“Jungkook,” you cut him off, your voice light with an air of a laugh. How he could go from that cocky, confident guy who was groping you to this, you’re not sure. “It’s ok. I believe you.”
He seems to expel a large breath, his body relaxing.
“How do you want me?”
His eyes flash across your body. His throat bobs when his eyes are back on you. There’re a few beats of silent where he seems to make up his mind. His face hardens, eyes blacken, and your stomach clenches in preparation.
“Turn around and put your hands on the table.”
You don’t move for a second, relish in watching him roll the already opened condom down his length and then step towards you. His hands are on your hips when your halfway round. Then a hand goes to the arch in your back to force you lower, ass up in the air.
His hand moves along the skin of your back, slow and smooth. Before he even gets to your ass you’re arching up into him. And as he smooths his hand over the curve of your ass you arch even more. Shove your head into the table, push your feet firmer onto your feet and straighten your legs.
“Such a good girl.”
You’re not expecting it, wouldn’t have put him down as a someone who’d be into that. You can’t lie, it takes you a second but the word sink in, you love it.
Jungkook’s hand is still stroking your ass, pulling the skin so that your ass opens up to him only to push it closed again. He’s taking his time, maybe after that awkward conversation he wants to ease back into the heat from earlier.
“Right here would be a good spot for a tattoo too,” he whispers, his hand still working your ass.
You groan, annoyed. “Really?”
“Just thinking about how much I’d love to see this view again. Tattooing it would be a great excuse.”
“We’ve not even done anything yet,” you huff. “You might not want to see it again. Can you just get on with it?”
He chuckles, a low reverberating noise, before you hear him shuffle closer.
“This what you want?” He mumbles, placing the tip of his cock a little further back then your entrance, a little too close to your rear entrance, the feeling makes you clench before he pushes forward. “Yeah? This what you want?”
“Uh-huh,” you breath out, his cock thick and hard all across you.
“As if I’d never want this again,” his movements are slow as he works his way from your clit to your entrance. “Not even in you yet and I already know I want this again.”
“Uh-huh,” you repeat, moving your hips backwards to try and increase the pace as well as the pressure.
“Such a good girl,” he whispers softly.
“Jungkook,” you grumble. “Can you just get in me?”
He doesn’t listen for a second, either wanting to feel like he’s still in charge of this, or just enjoying this too much to stop. But he does stop, tip right on you, just not quite in you.
Jungkook hums. You try to push back so that he slips in. Jungkook’s hand become firm on your hips stopping you. You groan.
“Patience,” he murmurs. “The best things come with a little time.”
Despite his words it only takes a second before he’s pushing in. Slowly, inch by glorious inch. Until he’s fully in you, hip to hip, thigh brushing along yours, knees bent into the back of yours, hands grasping your sides, his balls brushing against you. You fall forwards onto your folded arms, close your eyes and take in the feeling of him filling you up.
“See,” he breathes, his fingers drawing small circles on your skin. “So fucking good.”
“Yeah,” you agree because it does feel so bloody good.
It feels even better when he pulls away from you, his cock dragging along every bump inside you right until it’s only his tip inside you. Then, just as slowly, he pushes back in, a low and long moan ringing out of him.
His grip tightens on your hips at the same rate that his pace increases. Slowly, with each thrust he gets quicker and quicker until the table is slamming into the wall, making some noises that aren’t the healthiest and your head is sliding off your arms onto the table.
“See, knew you’d feel amazing,” Jungkook says behind you.
Another moan escapes you. You could definitely agree with that. Your hips push back, skin slapping against each other, his balls clapping against your clit. The tables squeaking beneath you, a distant part of your mind is worried it’s not going to withstand the pressure, but it’s such a small part that you don’t think too hard.
“That’s it,” Jungkook mumbles.
His pace changes, going from long slow to quick deep thrusts back to long and slow. It feels kind of jarring, but it also feels great, the difference between the two paces in such quick succession drawing out the pleasure.
You don’t have time to even feel like you’re coming. The feeling doesn’t creep up on you like normal. The sharp thrusts causing so much pleasure that when he slows down it gives your body enough time to process it and the feeling just explodes all over you.
You gurgle a noise, possibly more a scream, the noise distorted with your head pushed up against the table. Jungkook just keeps pushing into you, slower than anything before, mumbling words that only become audible when your bodies calmed down and the noise has died in your throat.
“– squeezing me so tight. Want to do this all day. Want to feel you squeezing me all the time.”
You’d agree with him if you weren’t so fucked out, your mind still feeling like mush. And honestly you don’t think you can give him much more after that. Already you can feel the sensitivity creeping up on you.
A small whimper leaves you as he pulls out of you. Half from how sensitive you feel, half because you weren’t expecting it.
“Just a bit longer. Just give me one more,” Jungkook says. “Come down here.”
His hands guide you, twisting you away from the table before he’s kneeling in front of you. Your eyes go wide, ready to stop him before he’s guiding you down over him.
“Want to see you ride me,” he explains as he lies down on his back, looks up at you spread over him.
“I don’t think I can.”
“I’ll help.”
Your eyes flick between his while you decide. You really think your legs will give out. You can hardly feel your legs as it is let alone the hard floor digging into your knees. But he looks so desperate lying below you. Looks like this is a moment he’s dreamed of for weeks even though this is the first time you’re meeting.
“Ok,” you decide it’s worth a try at the least.
Jungkook’s face lights up at the word, his hand already going to his cock to line the tip with your entrance.
Your head lolls back, your eyes close as you sink slowly down onto Jungkook. It feels so much more than before. You’re not sure if it’s the fact you’ve already orgasmed once or the sensitivity or the angle he’s pushing into you but he feels so much bigger like this.
“Fuck, I really don’t think –”
“You can, you can,” his hands run up and down your sides, soothing you. “Just give it a second.”
A breath in through your mouth, another out through your mouth. You try to relax. It’s hard with Jungkook impaling you, especially with those hands running up and down your sides. Especially when they stop at your hips and even more when they move to the skin on your ass. Pulling and squeezing and pushing your cheeks together. Even sat still on him it’s enough to get you moaning out in pleasure again. Small mumbles that build up longer hums of joy.
His hands on your ass start to move you. Small movements back and forwards with him still deep in you. It doesn’t take long for you to deepen the movements, his hands only sitting still on your ass now, you doing all the work.
“That’s it,” he whispers. “Such a good girl.”
You hum, the nickname spurring you on, your movements becoming quicker. You start to rise and fall as you go back and forth. His cock slipping out of you an inch only to slip back in.
“Keep going. Doing so good baby.”
Your hands slip on his sleek chest, struggle to find purchase as your pace increases. Your knees ache, hair falls into your face, body still hurts. But it feels so fucking good.”
“Sit up,” he mumbles, hand pushing on your shoulder to show you what he wants. “Want to see your tits bounce.”
He definitely hits deeper now. You don’t pull far away from him, his cock stays fully inside you, but you slam back down on him so hard that your eyes roll back into your head. Jungkook’s on hand tightens on your hip while his other grips under your boob, feels every time it moves down onto him. Your eyes flutter open, try to concentrate on how he’s looking up at you. While you feel fucked out, head almost unable to function on anything but his cocking hitting that one spot, he doesn’t look like he's fairing much better. His eyes are black as they look at your boobs bounce, his hair splayed like a halo around him, sweat making his skin shine.
“Oh fuck.”
You groan as you close your eyes, pretty sure that Jungkook’s mumble is due to you clenching around him because of how he looked lying beneath him. You can’t believe you’re about to orgasm so quickly after already having one.
“That’s it.”
Jungkook’s hips start to match your pace. The hand on your hip helping to make sure that he knows when you reach your low point so he can reach his high.
“Keep going.”
Even with Jungkook’s words, it’s more him thrusting up into you then you down onto him. His hands almost force you to stay where you are as his hips piston up into you. Your voice gurgles as you moan out. Your body shaking. Your mind purely focused on the point in that Jungkook is entering and leaving. His balls clapping against your ass.
“So close, I’m so fucking close.”
The words spur you on, make you start moving your hips a little faster to meet Jungkook’s. Your bodies clashing together as they slam into one another.
After everything, you come first. White blooming your vision, body spasming, nails raking along Jungkook’s chest. You scream out, an echo going ringing around the room.
You collapse on to him. Are about to complain about the sensitivity of him still thrusting up into you when he stops, hips as close to you as he can, you can feel his cock pulsing inside you even if you can’t feel him spilling into you.
Your body is ringing and pulsing, your chest heaving, your breath laboured. You feel sweaty and sticky. But fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest sex you’ve ever had.
Jungkook runs a hand down your back. You’re still lay on the floor.
“Want to look at that tattoo placement now?”
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