seal bite

Claimed

Requested by @let-me-entice-you. Hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Dean is the omega!reader’s alpha, but hasn’t claimed her yet. A run in with a guy in a bar leads to a fight that ends with Dean needing to make a decision.

Warning: smut, a/b/o dynamics, knotting

Word Count: 2700ish

A/N: Been a while since I’ve written a/b/o, and it was so much fun! Hope you enjoy!


“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” The man is a few inches taller than you, with a strong jaw and classic features, but his smile is a little too leering for you to feel comfortable.

“No, thanks,” you answer politely, holding up your beer bottle to indicate that you already have one.

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The bus I am riding in right now is fucking sub zero, I am an arctic seal biting the edge of my ice flow hole to try and keep breathing, I am shaking like a grandma at a Ricky Martin concert, the bus is lowering the temperature of my city by twenty degrees, climate change scientists everywhere are baffled, chill with the fucking air conditioning it’s not even that hot outside!

Icelandic 101 - The fun of translations

Here is a list of a few literal translations of Icelandic nouns, just for fun:


Flóðhestur (Hippopotamus) - Flood Horse

Broddgöltur (Hedgehog) - Spike Hog

Skjaldbaka (Turtle/Tortoise) - Shield Pie (technically ‘Shield Back’ but ‘Baka’ in the Icelandic language is most often used in reference to some form of pie)

Tíkarspenar (Pigtails) - Bitch Teats

Ryksuga (Vacuum Cleaner) - Dust Sucker

Kínverji (Firecracker) - Chinaman

Súkkulaðimús (Chocolate Mousse) - Chocolate Mouse

Leðurblaka (Bat (the animal kind)) - Leather Flapper

Geisladiskur (CD) - Laser Dish

Svarthöfði (Darth Vader) - Black Head

Selbiti (Finger Flick) - Seal Bite


As an added bonus, here are a few words that sound and/or are written the same:


Fé (Sheep) - Fé (Money)

Á (Accusative and Dative form of Female Sheep (Ær)) - Á (River)

Fýll (Fulmar) - Fíll (Elephant)

Föt (plural of Basin (the dish kind, not the geological one)) - Föt (Clothes)


And, as an added added bonus, a taste of the many ways snow can be translated depending on its form:

Hundslappadrífa (Dog’s Paw Drift) - Large, puffy snowflakes in calm or no wind

Skafrenningur (Scrape Slider) - Light snow blowing (or sliding) at ground level

Lausamjöll - Fresh, loose snow

Slydda - Wet snow

Él (Hail) - Hard snow, also known as ‘Haglél’ (Pellet Hail, basically, aka “redundant”)

Blindhríð (Blind Period) - Not quite sure how to translate the latter half of this one, but ‘hríð’ can translate literally as ‘period of time’, but in the context of weather it generally refers to snowstorms, more specifically the harsher kind (which obviously last for some period of time, like everything else, so… technically correct?).

Other examples include ‘fönn’, ‘bylur’, ‘skari’, ‘krap’, and many others, some being little more than synonyms, even.

anonymous asked:

I. I KNOW REQUESTS ARE CLOSED BUT FUCK I CANT HELP MYSELF. BOXER HARRY AND HIS BEST FRIEND IS ALWAYS THE ONE TO CLEAN HIM UP AFTER FIGHTS LATE AT NIGHT AND THEY GET IN A FIGHT ONE NIGHT BECAUSE SHE'S WORRIED ABOUT HIM AND HE'S IN LOVE WITH HER AND HATES WHEN SHE YELLS AT HIM AND SHE'S IN LOVE WITH HIM AND WHATEVER MAGIC YOUR MIND CAN CREATE. AND SMUT SMUT SMUT.

One down… many more to go. ;) It got a little dark for a moment or two, but it just faces up to the real consequences of a sport like this, I guess (going off my very limited knowledge, so, you know. Salt. Pillars). x

Gentle reminder that requests are closed. Any new requests for structured pieces are going to be posted immediately to be catalogued in the “request” tag. Happy Friday, everyone! 

053. Know You

The locker room air is stale and still. It’s just the two of you with him on the bench and you in front of him, latex gloves on your hands and a bottle of disinfectant and a cotton swab in them. 

“Will yeh not look at me like that?” Harry asks tensely.

He should be asking for you to look at him at all.

“I’m fine,” Harry stresses to you. “Just a couple of bruises.”

You’re still not looking at him straight on, and when you grab his chin you do so roughly and you jerk his head a bit to dab at a cut on his cheek with disinfectant. Harry winces, but you don’t apologize. Your gaze is focused like a laser as you clean, the line of blood shrinking as you work.

He’ll have a scar.  It’ll be small and thin, but it’ll be there. It isn’t his first, and you feel nauseated when you think of all the ones to come.

“I’ve already called the doctor.” You don’t recognize your voice with how rough it is. Syllables drop in and out and you swallow hard and clear your throat. “The appointment is at 12:30 tomorrow.” 

Scans. To be sure that all he might have is a concussion.

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#4 Blood Play- Dean x Benny

Requested by anon for my kink list!

Warning: Smut, blood play

Word Count: 1700ish

A/N: I have never written this ship before, and I LOVED WRITING THIS. If you are even REMOTELY curious, please read this and tell me what you think!!

The first time Dean offered his vein to Benny, it was because they were being hunted. He wasn’t sure what was after them, wasn’t sure how close they were to being truly dead, but he did know that they had a better chance of survival with his blood coursing through Benny. The blood made the vampire stronger, made him wild and fierce and almost indestructible. So Dean pushed up his sleeve and held his wrist out. “Drink,” he ordered. After one long glance, Benny sank his teeth in.

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Bet on it

Originally posted by sensualkisses

Title : Bet on it
Pairing : George Weasley x Reader
Word Count : 1,773
Writer : JW.

“It’s not going to work,”

“Yeah, and why wouldn’t it?” Fred asks, looking amused.

“Snape might be an arse, but he’s a very polished potion master. There’s no way you can prank him by changing his potion into.. That,” you vocalize, taking a peek to the freshly brewed potion “It’s impressive, the potion you make, but It just won’t work,”

“Of course it won’t,” he mockingly agrees, folding his hands to his chest as he pretends to rub his chin before shrugging with a wide grin “But well, what can you say, once an arse, always an arse. He deserves what’s coming to his plate,”

You roll your eyes, “You’re only finding yourself extra hours of detention. As if the ones McGonagall gave wasn’t enough,”

“Look, Sweetheart, I appreciate the worry, truly, but my twin and I have planned this for months and there would be no fallacy occured, guaranteed,” Fred threw out his chest and sang “You know, you’re so poised with your thoughts, let’s see how secured your bet is,”

“Always the same card,” you crack a smile, knowing exactly where he’s heading to “A sickle for another three hours of detention with Snape,”

Fred rolls his eyes, “We’ve done that one too many, it’s time to step up the game,”

You raise an eyebrow, urging him to go on with the proposal.

“If we did fail, I would fly off my broom around the castle and to the common room tonight— starkers,” he proposed with that infamous devilish grin “How’s that for a next level?”

“You’re not fooling around this time, aren’t you,” you comment, slightly gulping because of the seriousness he gets and how disturbing the bet was “And what’s it for me?”

“If the prank works well,” he says, turning his body so that his back would face you “You would have to pretend to be my twin’s girlfriend for the whole day without telling him the reason,”

You widen your eyes, “What?!”

“And that would include all the kissing and dirty business needed, if a day would be an enough of time,”

You take a moment to yourself to digest all the words he’d utter. Has he lost the plot? The denouement he proposed was outrageous. Why would he risk his dignity by a foolish prank like this?

And why would he purpose a bet that would in a way ‘play’ with his own twin’s feeling?

“Well, that’s a brave proposal, Fred,” you comment before finding yourself back to your seat “But I see no value in stepping the game if the out-turn was as mentioned. I’d stick to a sickle,”

He makes a mocking buzz sound, “What made your feet cold? Could it be that slightly in your heart you know that this prank would be prosperous that you figure to just.. Chicken out?”

“I— No, I’m still 100% sure that this would go all to pot by the end of the class,” 

“Then I suppose there should be no problem on sealing the deal,”

You bite your lower lip as Fred walks closer to you, an arm out ready to shake yours. You’ve always known that Fred could be a barmy instigator but never have you ever expected him to cross this many boundaries. For a simple prank he’s pulling for Snape, it sure is a huge gamble to take.

“Come on, my arm won’t be out all day, I have to help George brew another potion for Filch,” Fred urges, sounding slightly annoyed “Will you or will you not take the bet, ___?”

Sighing, you’ve finally made the worst decision in your live, “Deal,”

With another grin and discouraging cheer, Fred leaves the class, leaving you waiting for the other students to come in. The class should start in another quarter hour and your heart is starting to pitter-patter.

A huge pride in your heart whispers for you to just calm down because a brilliant professor like Snape would never fall for such dimwitted made prank— especially not in the area he’s mastered about. But the flutter you made holds a very daunting consequence that you can’t help but to feel a little nervous about it.

With some students coming in before you could jinxed the potion, all you can do now is to pray that a pinch of extra luck is dusted on your shoulders.


You grip your skirt tightly as you walk out of the common room. The nightmare of how Snape’s hair turned pink yesterday is still crystal clear in your mind. You don’t need to have another word with Fred as the little smirk and wink he shot at you by last night’s dinner was enough of a green light for you to proceed on the bet.

Be his twin’s girlfriend for a day.

Shoot.

Perhaps, it wouldn’t be this hard if it were Lee Jordan or Dean Thomas or anyone in that matter that you don’t have any crush for. But the red head git just has to choose his twin. His twin out of all boys in Hogwarts.

How wonderful.

“Hey, ___!” Fred greets in the hallway, casually placing an arm over you right after “Remember our deal yesterday? Time’s ticking, you know. The longer it takes for you to start, the longer it would end,”

You raise an eyebrow, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I said precisely a whole day of becoming my brother’s girlfriend and last time I check, a whole day consists of 24 hours so if you were to start now, the bet would be off by this exact same time tomorrow. Exactly 24 hours,”

You popped your eyeballs.

“I guess I missed that little detail, huh?” he says sheepishly “Well, no matter. It shouldn’t be a hard task to do anyway, seeing the way you’ve reacted when he’s around,”

What’s that supposed to mean?

“Fred, I don’t think—,”

“There’s no going back now, Sweetheart. A bet is a bet,” he says with much satisfaction in his tone, pushing you closer to his twin who was busy talking to his mates “Go on and give your boyfriend his morning kiss,”

“Fred, I just—,”

And before you can complain another word, the boy has left you stunned.

Of course.

Trembling, you try to grow a pair and gather all the guts you could grasp. Sanity has been long thrown away and embarrassment seem to be an underrated term over the feeling you’re holding at the moment. Surely that ginger would have a taste of his own meds later on.

Indeed, a bet is a bet.

“There you are, Sweetheart,” you say sweetly once you squeeze in the group of males and cling your hands over George’s arm “I’ve been looking all over the castle for you,”

The group stare at you bizarrely.

The red head froze at your sudden presence and touch.

“___, are you lost?” Lee Jordan asks.

“No, why would I be?” you ask him back, trying to force a laugh that doesn’t sound much of a dying owl “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, right, Georgie?”

He’s still stunned.

“George,” you call his name softly, hiding your nervousness “Say something,”

He barely blinks.

“Is this some kind of a prank?” Lee asks once more “Oh I know, it must be a prank. I’m not falling for it George, nice try,”

“It’s not a prank,” you say short before turning back to George “If this is a prank, why would I do this?”

Indeed, sanity has been long wiped out of your mind as you tip toed and leaned in to him, sealing your lips to the boy that was once stunned now turned even more petrified. His body tenses, frozen as if someone casted a spell on him. His breathing turns rigid, chest puffing up and down in a painfully fast pace as he tries to take it all in— it was not a dream.

His lips feels like a warm melting butter— sweet and soft. It was a chaste kiss but enough to jolt your body in full electricity charge. The blush that you tried hard to hide is no longer able to be contained as you pull away, slightly smiling from your bold and satisfactory action. If it wasn’t for the bet, you wouldn’t be able to the lips that you’ve been dreaming of a nights.

You’d need to say your gratitude to Fred, one day.


Time flies and as if it was logical for your mind to take, after the kiss earlier this morning George seem to just play along and enjoy the current situation as he showers you with pecks and locks his arm on your waist at all time. It was as if you two were a really newly born couple.

If only..

You find yourself running out of your dormitory room with exceedingly dose of happiness and blush. The day went by far better than you expected that dinner time arrives already. Sure, people were questioning you and throwing you overwhelming questions but the kisses and embraces were more than worth it.

“Let’s go,”

“No, wait,” he holds, grabbing on of your arm before you could head out to the dining hall “We’re all alone. We can talk now,”

You raise your eyebrows, “Talk about what?”

“This,” he says as he comes in to gives you a peck on the lip “That shouldn’t be able to happen over a night. Don’t you suppose I deserve an explanation?”

“I-I, uh—,”

“Judging from your stutter, I suppose you and my twin had a bet and you lost, am I right?”

“I— George, I can explain,” you say quick, afraid that your action might hurt his feelings in any way “I didn’t mean to play around with your feelings by all means, but the bet Fred made yesterday was inevitable. I didn’t know why he would choose this as my out-turn, but I cross my heart I meant no game for your feelings,”

“So, you were to say that you did all this just to fulfill the gamble?” he asks, taking a step closer that he’s dangerously close to you now “I was starting to like the idea of it— You know, to snog you all I want,”

You froze.

“I like touching you,”

He says as he roams your body with his hands.

“I like kissing you,”

He says as he plants soft kisses to your jawline.

“I like everything about you,”

He says as he looks straight at your eyes.

“If this is all a bet to you,” he whispers softly “They I’d like to live the rest of my life with this bet,”


hELP i’m catching feelings for a boy and i’m struggling hard to keep a rabbit with him.

request box is still open !! do send in your reqeuests !!
—dee.

Your Song

Imagine being an introverted person until Bofur eventually cracks your façade and you bloom into the most cheerful, dazzling little thing he’s ever seen.

Imagine Bofur telling you that he loves that little speech defect everybody has always made fun of.

The wind wailed like a wild boar over the rocky peak which hid the company of dwarves, hobbit, and wizard. The night was dark despite the full moon and twinkling stars. The shadow of the journey ahead loomed over all within the small cave though many had managed to capture sleep on such a night.

The brooding king sat outside with arms crossed across his chain-mailed chest, his iron ax leaned beside the rock beside him. His words had made the night darker as he carried the greatest burden of them all and would not let them forget it. Those within were gladdened thus that he had chosen to sit in the moonlight on watch leaving them to their slumber, though not all had closed their eyes.

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Tease Me

Based off this anon request: “ Can i please request dean x reader where there is so much sexual tension and “accidental” touches and low key flirting and end it with very dirty hot rough sex. Maybe some hair pulling, pinning, very rough fingering and the rest is up to you <33 thanks love!” combined with a hair pulling request from @ilovedean-spn2.

Word Count: 4400ish (not even sorry)

Warning: so much smut, hair pulling, some dirty talk

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anonymous asked:

All you need to do is tap the sharks nose to get the to back off, they're very sensitive even if they're not the MOST sensitive. Plus sharks don't really mean to attack people , they get confused thinking we're seals take a bite and realize we taste awful and swim off. That's why so many people survive shark attacks! Fun shark facts for the day! ✨✨✨✨✨

😄nothing against sharks here, I’m just gonna let them have the ocean and I’ll stay up here where it’s dry and warm haha. I do not think I would enjoy surviving a shark attack though, i gotta be honest

"Little fish" is his favorite nickname
  • QUENTIN: She's in here!
  • OCTOBER: *prisonpoisoned* ...it's ...my dudes?
  • CONNOR: We have put aside our differences to break you out before the queen turns your corpse into a death metal lawn ornament.
  • QUENTIN: The hordes of rampaging goblins were my idea.
  • TYBALT: The lockpicks were the gutless seal boy's.
  • CONNOR: Bite me, hairball breath.
  • TYBALT: You smell like dead fish, and not in a good way.
  • CONNOR: There's a good way?
  • TYBALT: OF COURSE, YOU CHURL.
  • CONNOR: Can we just get with the rescuing?!
  • QUENTIN: Not that I think these guys are going to get us caught or anything, but I brought my college credit form and if you could just sign here and initial here...
  • CONNOR: Why are you bringing up your stupid internship at a time like this?
  • QUENTIN: WE'RE GOING TO DIE BUT MY GPA DOESN'T HAVE TO.

title: Phantom
summary: Sequel to Ghost. In which Itachi sees…well…her.
pairing: itasaku

Black blood dripped down the backs of Sakura’s arms as she stepped into the apartment. Her gloves were singed, still smoking slightly at the tips. And as soon as she passed through the line of sutras, a shadow peeled off her back. Shrieking, it lay in a crumpled heap just before the line of sutras.

“Shit. I’m home, Itachi,” she called. Needlessly. Because he was standing right there. The black creature reached a clawed hand for her, but it sizzled against the invisible barrier that she had created around the apartment. And with the sealing glyphs imbued into the door, it was effectively trapped in that tiny space, along with her shoes.

Itachi saw her knees buckle. But as he rushed to catch her, his hands phased right through her. Although her gloves were in tatters, the wards on them were still effective. He couldn’t touch her.

“Sakura, your gloves,” he said. But she shook her head. Leaning against the wall for a moment, she refused his help. And when she gathered the strength to keep walking, she left a smear of blood against the white paint.

“I’m covered in sacred ash because the client called in a fucking ghost hunter. I don’t know what’ll happen to you if you touch me,” she said as she stalked past him. Her black footprints took her all the way to the bathroom.

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It's You Again

Craig packs away his brushes when the professor dismisses the class, breathing a sigh of relief. He didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, and his life drawing class in the morning totally drained him. When he first started here a few years ago, he thought it would be a good idea to become one thing he’s always wanted to be: a director. Little did he know that this college required him to get an arts degree first, then the film and photography degree that he wanted in the first place. As it turns out, he loves most of the classes he’s chosen to take this year.

He slings his backpack over his shoulders and heads outside, pulling his jacket tighter around him to seal himself from the biting autumn wind. Smoothing the hair out of his eyes, Craig adjusts his hat over his ears; he never did get rid of the old thing. It reminds him too much of home, the home he wants to remember. So he kept it. Suddenly, he’s jarred off his feet when he runs into someone, knocking his paintbrushes all over the concrete walkway.

“Shit, dude, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

@baggysweaters

Klaroweek: Regency AU

HAPPY DAY TWO EVERYONE


Caroline tucked her feet a little closer to her body, uncaring of how terrible her posture was or the maid’s horrified reaction should she walk in. She’d pleaded a headache that morning, unwilling to face the quiet of the manor or the routine of dressing for the day.

The drizzle outside turned the English countryside grey, the usually picturesque view dull. It matched her mood perfectly. The past month had been slow, the recovery her heart and nerves needed - if only she’d managed to actually heal.

She’d broken her betrothal, and quietly fled London. It would buy her a little time, as no one would look for her here. But all it did was delay the consequences of her choices - Tyler had cared about her, but his family would never tolerate the loss of her inheritance. It was only a matter of time before they retaliated.

Then word had arrived that Katerina was dead. The Mikaelson family had disappeared as quickly as they’d arrived, setting the Ton on their collective ears. Caroline sighed heavily, letting the chill from her window seep into her skin.

Tomorrow she’d find the energy to walk to the local church and ask for prayers for her soul. She’d seen the devil - danced with him in gilded halls, tasted the sin on his lips - and craved more. Caroline was intimately aware that monsters wore human skin, had been so careful to skirt the edges of her betrothed’s choice of lifestyle.

Until Klaus.

With black malady in his veins, the hot sting of his fangs against her throat as Tyler screamed and begged. She hadn’t flinched from her death - had refused to give him that - and instead of pain and death, the monster had cradled her close; had soothed her frantic pulse with his tongue until the wound from his bite had sealed. And Caroline had found herself shaken; the hot band of Tyler’s nightmare’s arm wrapped around her waist, his fingers tangled in her hair while he kept her close.

Fool that she was, for a moment she’d let herself relax. Then those hot lips and hotter skin had pressed against her ear. His fingers stroking down the nape of her neck with a proprietary hold that had alarmed her far more than his bite.

“As for you love, you’ll be keeping this quiet.” The softest press of lips against the ridge of her ear. “I can compel your silence - ensure your cooperation - but this will be more fun.”

Then he’d released her, stepping back to smile with her blood staining his lips, dripping down his chin. “Breathe a word of this, attempt to run and I’ll eat everyone you care about before I come for you.”

“Leave her out if this,” Tyler had pleaded hoarsely. “She’s not part of this. What use could you have for a mere girl?”

The devil laughed. His eyes flickered over Caroline’s pale face. “Bait. Such beautiful bait.”

And she’d played her part. Had refused to cower before her impending death - regardless of what Tyler thought, Klaus Mikaelson would kill them both. There was no life that could sate the monster Tyler had brought into her life.

But then…

He’d had the audacity to court her. To push aside all propriety and send her gifts. Leave them on her pillow. Small, carefully drawn pictures of her, little trinkets she admired when shopping.

Klaus had been so amused by her demands to stop. Dimples bracketing that charming, lie of a smile he’d laughed at her furious whispers. “Perhaps I admire you.”

Caroline lifted her chin. “You don’t see people as something to admire, you see us as food. My life was bargained so you could court Katerina Petrova.”

“I’m setting her up for the slaughter, which you well know; she’ll die before the next moon. Considering breaking our deal?”

“You’ve made your threats very clear,” Caroline replied, looking away from him.

“Yes, and unlike your betrothed, you seem to realize how easily I will execute them.” Klaus tilted his head, studied her profile. “Yet, you return what I give you, throw my generosity in my face.”

Caroline fisted her hands in her skirt, paused as she turned to leave. “I do not fear my death, which we both know approaches a little more each day, but you will not make a mockery of my life.”

“Is that what you believe?”

Caroline hesitated, but didn’t turn to face him. “You don’t care for my feelings and you have none yourself. I will keep my end of the bargain. I want to live. But I will not let you take anything else from me.”

Instead, she gave away pieces of herself.

In her bedroom, the hard line of him pressed close - his mouth open against hers, the soft seduction of his tongue, hot and slick against her own. Her day skirts and petticoats were useless barriers against the heat of him; he stripped her bare with his hands in the privacy of her room just as easily as he had with his eyes in public. There were no explanations, no soft words as he burned her alive from the inside out, his body branding hers as Klaus took and took until she was boneless.

She’d reached for the shame as he softened inside her, the guilt that should have mingled with horror as he angled her neck; fangs piercing her skin as the monster buried inside her groaned at her taste. But all she knew was a languorous greed as she felt him harden, the hard length of his erection pressing against tender muscles as his body thrust into her. That possessive, determined grip on her hair and breast as he drove her towards that nameless breaking, that terrible and wonderful heaven that numbed her to everything but him.

He spoke only when she was spent, body limp and pliant under her sheets, cold from the loss of his skin. Lips against her temple, he’d laughed at her noise of protest.

“Death is not always an ending, little love.”

Caroline hadn’t known if it was a threat or a promise, but something terrible sat in her chest. A knowing that whatever she’d been before - they’d changed it. Oh, he was careful with the outside world, his pretty words and gentle manners for Katerina. But he showed her his teeth and horrors, cradled her against his chest and carried her under his skin.

Caroline wished fervently that she’d hated it.

She wanted to say that her body didn’t burn for him. That in the secrets of her room, she didn’t slide her hands under the long cotton of her nightdress, didn’t shamefully explore what he’d shown her her body was capable of feeling. The memory of him left her pressing into her mattress with hitching breaths and muffled moans.

She kept waiting for the repercussions that never came. No servant talked, no rumor caught her desperate ears. Tyler suspected nothing - knew nothing of her body’s awakening, of the game she played with the devil.

Then it… fell apart.

Tyler slipped.

He confessed his double dealings. Promised her it would all be over soon. Caroline was stunned - one monster did not replace another. Worse, she’d discovered she… cared. She didn’t know if she liked who Klaus was or the monster under his skin; but she was incapable of the betrayal Tyler spoke of - even if she’d committed a worse betrayal and let Klaus into her bed, slept with his skin feverish against hers.

But as she stared at Tyler, she realized that it wasn’t Klaus she feared. The monster whose teeth bit into her throat was the same man who left her books on travel. Who listened when he finally coaxed her into discussing what she wanted from life.

Klaus wrecked her. He shook her faith, destroyed her beliefs and left her craving his gilded tongue, his artist’s hands. And Caroline feared in the depths of her ruined heart that he’d done it on purpose.

A back up plan.

A pleasurable destruction.

Beautiful bait.

Standing before Tyler, she hadn’t cried. Hadn’t shaken from her epiphany, the knowledge of how thoroughly Klaus had ruined her. Instead she’d nodded, played along and planned.

Three days later she’d left Klaus a letter with everything she knew about Tyler and Mikael’s plotting. Then she’d quietly, carefully escaped from the city - heading to an estate that few would know her connection to and simply waited.

If Klaus won - he’d leave. Take his sister, the brother she’d heard him mention and reign his terror across the continent. Perhaps the Americas.

If he lost, in a few weeks, she’d face the consequences - likely her death. Tyler would not forgive her betrayal, nor would the creature who hunted its own son. In the end, she’d condemned herself, but it offered some peace. For the first time in her life, she’d made the choice she could live with.

“Did you expect that I would not find you?”

Caroline turned, faced the door to her borrowed bedroom in shock. Klaus stood there, loomed at her from the doorway in a simple pair of breeches and workman’s shirt. She felt her heart skip, torn between delight and alarm.

“If you lived, I did not expect you to try,” Caroline said finally, brows tucked together. “I assume whatever ritual you needed was completed?”

His eyes bled yellow, a double set of fangs dropping down and her stomach leapt into her throat. Klaus smiled at her, stalked into the room. “Mikael is dead. As is your ex-betrothed and the precious Katerina.”

Caroline nodded, wondered how harshly her soul was to be judged for her part. “Do now you have to tie the loose ends?”

Klaus reached for the end of her braid, tugged lightly at her hair. “Do you remember what I promised you?”

“That if I spoke about what you were, if I ran from you - you’d eat everyone I cared about before you came for me.”

“Good.”

Her back hit her mattress suddenly; the hem of her nightclothes, her robe shoved up past her hips and the hot stroke of his tongue against her most private area left her in shock. Hands nearly bruising on her thighs, he licked at her with rough, velvet strokes of his tongue until she cried out, until her hands fisted in his hair and her hips rolled helplessly against his lips.

Until she broke apart, body arching in supplication. Klaus lifted his head, hands smoothing down her trembling thighs until the worst of her tremors eased. Watching her from heavy eyes, he worked on loosening the ties of his shirt.

“I killed my father.”

His shirt hit the floor, and Klaus worked sharply at his pants. “I broke my curse.”

Naked, he crawled back to her body and shredded her gown, eyes sliding down her unfashionable slimness, the softness of her skin. “And free for the first time in five hundred years, all I can think of is a human girl - a breakable with a spine of steel. And all I can imagine is your death - how time will sink into the mortality of your bones, hollowing you out a little at a time.”

“Will you kill me then?”

He kissed her breast, sucked her nipple with his mouth, rolled her flesh against his tongue until she cried out, nails clawing at his back. Klaus gave her no mercy, merely switching sides until she was begging, body clinging to his. Then he spread her open, and sheathed himself inside her with a hard thrust. Caroline sobbed for air, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“Yes,” Klaus said into her ear as he began to move, each stroke of his erection drawing a cry from her throat. “I will kill you. But first I’m going to drink - take my little human Caroline’s blood. And when you’re coming around my cock, I’m going to give you mine.”

Caroline tossed her head, her unraveling braid a wild mess on her pillow. He laughed, kissed her jaw. “No? Being a vampire will suit your fierceness, my love.”

And she opened her eyes to hold his gaze, saw the crawling death of his wolf and vampire in his eyes, hunting her. But behind the predator was the expression that made her heart pound. That touch of softness, that admiration he’d shown so unwillingly when she would not bend.

I will not let you go, his eyes told her. Time and death cannot have you. I’m stronger than both.

He bit her throat, the sharp pain of it so much more than before. She could feel the heat of her blood spilling down her back, sliding to her breasts as he took greedy mouthfuls. The pain burned but somehow, it made the pleasure more, dug into her bones and left her desperate.

Klaus lifted his head, bit at his wrist with his bloody mouth as she started to tremble around him, her eyes unfocused from the pleasure and blood loss. His blood spilled hot between her lips as pleasure engulfed her; left her chest warm as he shuddered between her thighs; thrusts stilling as she watched him with heavy lashes.

Slowly, touch tender, he brushed the blood away from her lips - licked his hand clean. Just as slowly, everything about him gentle as she watched him from the daze of her afterglow, he tangled his hands in her hair, and smiled his monster’s smile.

“The things I’ll show you.”

Caroline felt the world wrench; died from a broken neck.

She woke hours later - a maid between her teeth, Klaus’s lips at her ear, and his fingers stroking the wet heat of her.

“Welcome to death, little love.”

fic: i got your name tattooed in an arrow heart

bellarke au time!! the next installation of my soulmates series- a heist society au!! it can also be read without having read the book :)

(“Bellamy, for the love of god,” she breathes, her heels clicking against the bright museum flooring, “I said there was no need for code names.”

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