Gimmie Gimmie is right!!! I'll take this man any day! My brain already wants a part 2.
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Every month, Happy found the time to check on you. When your old man was murdered, for some reason he was the only one who you found solace in. He didn’t bring up old memories or force you to talk about it or worse, hit on you - he just sat and let you cry. Later, he began to work around the house when he came over, even bringing his own beer with him to shove into your fridge.
A year went by before you recognized another need he could tend to.
Rebekah had avoided storms at all costs since Kol’s death. When the cure for immortality had turned up a dead end, she’d skipped town seeking out sunshine and clear skies, always staying one step ahead of the looming wet season. Or she had, she mused, as she stared out of her penthouse window in Costa Rica. Monsoon season had arrived early this year; she should have had another couple of weeks to enjoy the sun and culture before she would have to beat a hasty escape. But now she was trapped. There would be no flights or ships out of here in this weather, the rain having come thick, fast and relentless.
Each breath felt impossible, strangled beneath the thunderous onslaught battering against her window, which was a feat in and of itself as she had no need to breathe. The suffocating sensation marked the return of grief she had been running from.
Kol had always had an affinity for magic, unlike the rest of them, a child prodigy in the face of their startling lack of powers. He’d relished in his magic, using it frivolously as he’d grown. But the true peril of having such potent magic lay not in how you used it, but how it used you. Kol had been as temperamental and emotionally responsive as the rest of them, and, like every other Mikaelson, he channelled those emotions into rage, turning them into a weapon.
Yet Kol’s fiercest weapon was not the bow he favoured, nor the words he wielded with brutal efficiency—it was his magic. He was a child of nature, and nature listened when he called. Water was his element, and his fury erupted in booming storms and torrents that threatened to sweep their hut away.
She’d been terrified of storms as a child, associating them with Kol’s temper early on. During a particularly brutal beating Kol once received, the thunder had cracked in tandem with the crack of Mikael’s whip. The coincidence undeniable as to the cause. After that, Rebekah always associated the two. The sound of the whip made her think of thunder, and thunder made her think of their father’s cruel punishments.
A storm meant Kol was distraught, wrathful, or perilously both.
People had described Klaus’ expression as stormy, often over the centuries; never to his face, of course. She’d never agreed, unable to associate the term with anything other than the expression Kol wore as the sky rumbled with his displeasure.
There’d been a storm raging the night that father had plunged a sword into their chests. It had dried up as soon as Kol took his first sip of human blood and consequently lost his magic. That hadn’t stopped Rebekah from associating the tempestuous weather with her equally volatile brother. Sometimes, it was almost somatic. She’d catch sight of Kol’s stormy expression and could almost feel the tremors of thunder rolling through her body and rumbling in her ear.
It didn’t matter that Kol was dead, that he was never coming back. A storm still meant her brother was in vile spirits. Besides, he was on the Other Side now, exactly where his magic was. Who was to say the early monsoon wasn’t her big brother’s doing, lashing out in his outrage? He hadn’t been best pleased the last time she’d seen him as a ghost. For all she knew, this could be Kol enacting his revenge for not grieving him the way they should have, the way he deserved.
Which is why she’d run.
She’d known that the rain would bring with it a wave of emotions she wasn’t prepared to deal with, and there was no handy humanity switch to prevent her from drowning. They’d failed him. A thousand years they’d roamed this earth untouched by death. Even with Mikael constantly on their tail. Yet, in a few short years, they’d lost two of their kin.
Her breath was a wet rattling thing in her chest as she fought back the sob that was fighting valiantly to claw itself free.
The rain used to reflect the tears running down Kol’s defiant face during a punishment, at least before Mikael had beaten that out of him too. From then on, the rain would lash down around them in a manner that Kol’s tears were no longer permitted to. Rebekah couldn’t help but recall as she struggled to keep her own tears at bay.
She remembered the way thunder used to rumble in warning when Kol was fighting with their siblings. A sure sign that he had a barely tenuous hold on his magic and was restraining himself from turning it on them in his anger. Now the thunder only echoed with the injustice of her brother’s death. They hadn’t listened to him; in the end, he’d been right. His death should have been an impossible thing, and yet in the end, he’d died for nothing.
She choked on a sob as a sudden clap of lightning startled the first tear free.
Getting caught in a storm could mean death as a human; pneumonia was a pesky thing after all, but that hadn’t been why Rebekah had feared them so. No, a storm meant her boisterous brother’s ire. Rebekah was just as possessive and devout a creature as her brother Nik. A storm meant someone had upset, even hurt, something that was her’s. It was an injustice she couldn’t stand, but one she frequently couldn’t prevent, as the cause was typically their parents.
But Kol had been a tiny little runt of a thing when they’d been younger, and at seven summers of age, there’d been a particularly vicious lightning strike when Rebekah had heard her brother calling through the forest. She’d been with Nik at the time, and they’d charged through the wooded area after their brother to see him being pushed around by some of the older boys from the village. Unthinkingly, Rebekah had charged forward and shoved one of them back with a bellow.
“Leave him alone!” A clap of lightning had sounded behind her as she stood protective in front of Kol, who was sprawled in the grass with a menacing glower that promised retribution on his face.
The boy stumbled, then narrowed his eyes at Rebekah, striding menacingly towards her six-year-old figure. Nik had stepped in front of the nine-year-old before he could lay a hand on her, though. At thirteen summers, he was bigger than the other kids involved, and despite being sweet on his siblings, his temper was well known in the village; all of theirs was. Tahlako glared at Nik, his gaze drifting back down to Kol in consideration, who was pulling himself to his feet - his magic creating a static buildup in the air around them. Tahlako wisely retreated, his friends tucking tail with him.
The lightning had followed them home that day, keeping others at bay but never once striking them.
The lightning was useless in protecting Kol now. The thought jolted through her, sharp and cold, wringing another sob from her chest. Then the dam broke. The tears crashed over her in relentless deluges, each wave of grief heavier than the last, sweeping her completely under.
Her brother was gone. No longer was there a boisterous voice to annoy her when she was feeling tightly wound, or to distract and redirect Klaus’ ire when she inevitably misstepped. No longer would there be magical trinkets tripping her up or inane commentary made on her love life. No longer did she have a comrade in mischief. No. Now, a storm would always just be a storm. For no longer did she have a brother who could command the skies as easily as he did a room.
HECK YEAH DRABBLESSS! you know im coming for my husband Rio! hmmm 3 words : sweet, low, dark! 🤭
Chiiiile! It's all kinds of o'clocks in the morning and I already need a fan? This is your fault and I love you for it.
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Less than 24 hours ago you had told him to let you go - that you deserved to be the priority and you would take nothing less in your relationship. Who were you fooling?
Now you lay covered in sweat - his and yours. Gasping and moaning low in the dark, as he entered you again. Shivering everytime he rasped sweet lies in your ear of how things would be from now on. Letting your eyes roll back in pleasure you knew he would never release his hold.
And if you were honest with yourself, you didn’t want him to.
@megamindsecretlair Girl we can't be starting my brain in this direction. Stopping at 100 words bout hurt my feelings😩
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Gathering yourself back together from round two, you light up the spliff by the bed. The XXX remix of Jill Scott’s So Gone coming on made you smile. After two long tokes, you roll on your back and hand it to Angel, blowing your smoke in the air.
Leaning on his elbow, he exhaled across your breast, trailing his fingers down your torso sending tingles all over you.
“Mmm…don’t start nothin’ you can’t finish,” you warn him, eyelids already drooping from his lips fastening on your hard peak.
“You know me better than that,” he growled, rolling on top of you.
Hey auntie 👋👋 can you do something soft but smutty for Rio? You got creative freedom 🥰
Yum Yum! Soft and smutty? You know it killed me to stop at 100 words, right?
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When your flight landed, you received a message that your car was already waiting. The last thing you expected when security opened the door was Rio sitting in the back seat. You paused just long enough for his mouth to turn up on one side in amusement.
“Get in, mama. I won’t bite.”
Sliding in next to him, you noticed the privacy guard was already up.
His head swiveled your way, studying you before he took your hand - intertwining your fingers. “I missed you.”
You flushed with heat, confessing, “I missed you too.”
Hey Anony! Happy on any day is a joy to write for me! Enjoy!
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Still wet from the shower, Happy rummaged in a drawer for shorts. To the world, he was the monster men stayed awake thinking about, but to you he was your husband, protector and one hell of a lover. Drawn to the fresh, clean scent of his skin, you wrapped your arms around his waist.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” he grunted in response, without turning around.
Annoyed, you poked him in his side, “Damn Hap, who do I gotta kill to get a kiss around here?”
Turning, he leveled you with a glare before snatching you into a rough lip lock. “Better?”
I have lots of procrastinating to do so here’s another! Thank you dear!
Miguel
Brat, Listen, Punish.
👀Oh the word choices are excellent! Let's get into it!
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Miguel found you shaking your ass on the bar with two of your girlfriends. You wore a red lip-glossed smirk to go with your skintight tshirt, emblazoned with ‘Birthday Brat’ across the chest. Miguel’s fury was increased knowing your actual birthday was 3 months ago. Tonight was about free drinks and attention.
Making eye contact with him you hopped down, making your way to his SUV.
“You never listen!” he grunted in the back seat, slamming into you hard enough to realign your spine. Your cries of pleasure and pain satisfied his need to punish you, as you came again.
Sentence: “Do you love me?” (May or may not have been listening to “questions” by Tamia around the time I’ve seen the tag 🤣)
Character: Pope Cody 😈
I absolutely love you for this request. 💜💜The only problem was stopping at 100 words.
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Pope slowed down, his dark eyes looking deep into yours. Breathless you looked up at him, mesmerized by every stroke drawing him closer to your heart.
“Is this okay?” he whispered.
How could he not know how good he felt?
“Yes!” you choked out.
Linking your fingers and spreading your legs wider, you silently asked for more.
“Do you love me?”
Desperate, his eyes were pleading. You both knew Smurf would never let you have him - still you needed him to know. You held his face, wishing the answer wasn’t going to cost so much.
