i think a lot about how kaz brekker, this monster, this bastard of the barrel, this crook with dirtyhands…offered to give himself up to let everyone else go free. the odds would have been stacked against him yet he stubbornly stood by his choice and said, “i’m giving you a way out. take it.” i want to cry, this boy, he was e x p o s e d in crooked kingdom. coldhearted my ass.
Father Ren's delusional ass thinks he's gonna give up sex for Lent. RC decides to give her temptation muscle some exercise and starts by ordering expensive lingerie addressed to him just to remind him of what he's missing
((I used our canon for this, because… uh… I can. OTP.))
You sigh, staring at Kylo from across the room, his ankle propped up on his knee, the Bible in his hand. He wants to give some sort of homily regarding the beginning of Lent, most likely, not that you particularly care. You haven’t been to church since he’d bound himself to you, and you haven’t missed it.
But Lent is a problem. It’s been four days, now, since you’ve fucked, and he’s been more stubborn than usual. In his insistence to maintain some sort of moral superiority, he’s rebuked you at every possible opportunity. In bed, you’d reached for his cock, danced your fingers around his soft shaft–but he’d swatted you away. Enough, he’d grumbled. In the shower too, you’d tempted him, slipping in when his eyes were closed, then watching him gaze at the rivulets of warm water running over your breasts. You could have sworn his dick had twitched, then–but you weren’t for certain, because he’d shooed you away.
“You’re fooling yourself, Kylo,” you’d called back to him, but he hadn’t said a word. His mind had been just as blank. He had been hiding from you.
A few more rejections following that, and now, you’re fracturing. It isn’t like you to feel embarrassed, or humiliated, or–what’s the word–rejected. If anything, you need to be the one rejecting him.
So you huff, throwing on a pair of shoes, and grab his keys. “I’m going out.”
Kylo’s eyes flick to yours–something underneath the amber glass of his irises. But he’s silent, and nods his acknowledgement. This only irritates you further–you storm out, knowing exactly where you need to go next.
When you return home, he’s still in the same spot, those full lips pursed in thought as he reads. You escape to your bedroom, changing quickly–sheer, dark stockings, black garter belt, black lace up to your barely-covered tits, thin black straps over your shoulders. Everything is tight and tempting and fleshy and raw. You slip on a pair of black patent heels and saunter into the living room.
The click, click of your footsteps has already caught Kylo’s attention, his eyes darting to the floor first when you enter. The shoes have his attention, his brow tightening as he spots them–but then his eyes wander up, over your legs, over the lace and straps on your thighs, over the black panties and sheer top, stopping at the lace hiding your nipples. Your breasts are full, bouncing softly with every step you take, and he shifts.
His throat bobs as he swallows. And finally, finally, you hear him–
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
His eyes rake over your body, the Bible looking limp in his hand, and he meets your stare. “What are you doing?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know the answer.
“Me?” You spin, so he can see how round and soft your ass looks in your panties. “Nothing.”
Kylo spits out your name like a warning. “I’ve already told you about my penance.”
“I know.” Grinning, you drop to your knees in front of him, running your hands over your body. “I’m not touching you.”
“You know what you’re doing. Stop.”
Pouting, you squeeze one of your tits. “Stop what?” you say. “I’m not interfering with Lent.”
He pauses, watching your fingers bury into your own flesh. Just a small touch… “Yes.” Recovering, he rolls his eyes. “You are.”
“Really?” Your fingers dip low, grazing over your cunt, and you release a shuddering whine. “What do you mean?”
“Stop it,” he growls–and even as he does this, he drops the Bible on the couch and uncrosses his legs. “Now.”
You feign shock, sitting back on your heels, letting him get a better view of your tits. “I can’t believe you’re being so callous, Kylo.”
His eyes are stuck on you. He wants to move them, but he can’t–and the longer he stares, the more rapid his thoughts become, spilling out as his control wanes.
Just a glimpse of your tits. Let me see. That won’t hurt anything. Or maybe if you just touch me. A little. Just a taste…
With that, you know he’s cracking, and you inch forward, dragging your pointed nails up his calf. He swallows again, but doesn’t kick you off, doesn’t even ask you to move. All he does is watch, his breath slow in his chest. When you glance between his legs, you see the evidence of his fading resistance–his erection is straining at his trousers, and his hands rest on his thighs, centimeters away.
“What’s this?” you say, your hand crawling up his thigh. “Kylo… am I turning you on?”
Of course you are. “No.” Climb on top of me. Let me sink my cock into that sweet little cunt. “You’re not.”
You grin. “I think I am.” Pushing his hand aside, you stop, hovering over the tent of his cock. “We could test it and find out.”
His eyes are dark and desperate, pleading with you for relief in either form, and his hips inch forward, as if to entice you. Not that it isn’t working–you’ve been dreaming about wrapping your lips around his cock, about riding him until he passes out. Your brain has been busy with thoughts of his panting breath, his flushed cheeks, his broad shoulders, tense with movement–thoughts of his hands, strong and firm on your hips, and his mouth, pressing eager, hungry marks into your throat and your tits.
But you remember your thought earlier–you should be denying him. So when he jerks his hips upward in attempt to graze your palm, you jerk your hand away, grinning wickedly, and he collapses back onto the couch in a frustrated, embarrassed whimper. You’d broken him.
“You know what,” you say. “You’re right. I think your penance is definitely the most important thing. Wouldn’t want to walk into mass as a hypocrite, tomorrow.” You pause. “Well. A bigger hypocrite, anyway.”
Kylo grumbles your name, but says nothing, his mind blank again, and he sits up again, snatching the Bible and ripping it open.
“IT IS 3AM AND YOU THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO LIGHT FIREWORKS? I’LL KILL YOU” au
@thetourguidebarbie i saw this on your list of KC prompts and I couldn’t help myself. This will be rough since I’m on my phone.
Unleash The Beast
Caroline went from deep sleep to alertness in a fraction of a second, as evidenced by her eyes popping open. What woke her up was a loud boom in the sky. A loud boom in the sky that had no place waking her up.
She rose from the bed like the Undertaker, and she thought, when I get my hands on him, he’ll wish I was that brute.
He, in this case, was her husband. Niklaus. The man who apparently thought that setting off fireworks at – what the fuck – 3 AM was a good idea.
How did she know it was him, you may be wondering. Well, he wasn’t in bed with her and the accompanying laughter that followed each blast was a distinct one, one she’d heard everyday for a thousand years.
She also heard Kol’s laughter. Her scowl turned into a malicious grin. Any chance she got to berate not only Klaus but Kol, too, she took and quite gleefully at that.
She swept through the house at vampire speed, coming to the back porch and finding that yes, her husband and brother in law were outside with piles of explosives. Of all the dangerous hobbies Kol just had to rope Klaus into….
As soon as the door opened, Klaus stiffened. Good. He knew what was coming. Kol turned around, grinning like a goofy little puppy. Too bad for him that Caroline are goofy little puppies for breakfast.
She stepped into the grass, letting the humidity of the night wash over her before she unleashed the beast. Her eyes closed as she took in a breath.
Then she opened them again, put her hands on her hips, and said as clearly as she could, “what the hell do you think you are doing?”
Klaus winced, opened his mouth to grovel. Kol interrupted whatever he was about to say with, “Carebear, we’re just having some fun. Really. No need for such ire.” She was almost proud to note that his eyes didn’t stray to her body, covered by only a t-shirt of Klaus’ and thankfully modest underwear. Maybe he was finally learning.
Klaus hissed and hit him over the head. “Kol, shut up.” He turned back to his wife. “Love, I’m sorry if we woke you up, we – ”
“You woke up everyone in this god awful town, Klaus, not just me.“ Her raised eyebrow made him stiffen further, instinctually wanting to rise to the bait. He didn’t; he was smarter than that.
"I suggest you stop with this foolish little bonding moment and come back to bed before I lock you out of our room,” she threatened. This was a threat bandied around often. Nothing was worse than not sleeping curled around each other (well, okay, not true, but true enough after their centuries). It wasn’t something he’d risk, she knew. He hadn’t done so in years.
His eyes widened, and he turned quickly to his brother. “Kol – ”
Kol grumbled, but dropped down to start cleaning the mess they’d made. It greatly amused her that Klaus hadn’t even had to say anything before he was obeying. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just go back upstairs so Caroline can get her precious beauty rest.”
Caroline took that as her leave, sweeping back upstairs to the bedroom. Klaus was hot on her heels, fidgeting nervously.
When they got to the room, she let him enter before saying, “next time you wake me up with fireworks, I swear, I will wring your neck.” She pointed for good measure.
He nodded, “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again, then.”
“Good. And for gods sake, please find a way to bond with Kol that doesn’t involve anything even remotely dangerous! Take him for a walk or something! God,” she sighed, settling into bed. She hoped she could fall back asleep.
Klaus laughed as he too settled in. He wrapped an arm around her waist, being her flush to him. His laugh vibrated his chest behind her, making her eyes close at the feeling. She was mad at him, but it wouldn’t be for long she knew. Not when was being all tactile and cute. (Goddamn him, she thought to herself.)
“He’s not a dog, love, I can’t take him to go meet friends and throw a stick around to occupy him for a little while.”
“Sure you can,” she countered. “Just go to the park and tell him I said if he doesn’t go along with it, he’ll regret it.”
She’d really only sic Rebekah on him, but he would shudder to even think it if he knew.
Klaus sighed, nuzzling his nose into her neck. You’re mad at him, she reminded herself. He woke you up.
“I’ll tell him,” he said, nipping her earlobe. “But I think it’s important that I remind you that you are not the one he’s truly scared of.”
Caroline laughed. How cute it was that he thought he was still the scary one. “Of course, darling,” she purred anyway. She could give him the illusion of power in their relationship, their family. But they both knew exactly who was the boss there, and it certainly wasn’t him.
But seriously tho I mean you know it's happened at least once-
There's been movement on the borders
We have reason to believe that Suna is on the verge of betraying us again!
Every other advisor except Shikamaru:
Wait a minute
Not only do I totally not buy this
But just so everyone will be reassured let me just make a phone call to my brother-in-law
*whips out cellphone*
Gaara? Yeah, it's me. Nah, just wondering if you're planning on attacking us anytime soon. Even though I'm married to your sister and your only nephew is a Konoha citizen. Yeah, I know. Wait, for real? Sweet. Yeah, I'll bring Shikadai over next week. Yeah yeah, bye.
Okay, so three things
We're not going to war with Suna
Gaara thinks you all are being idiots
And I'm about to get an awesome new flat-screen TV for my birthday because I'm just that wonderful an in-law