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sweet-as-an-angel · 11 months

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Miguel and Hobie Fighting for Your Love

Summary: Both men knew they were wildly in love with you. But, as you remain oblivious to their feelings, their conflict strengthens. A war is brewing.

“I won’t let you have her.” Miguel’s eyes gleamed between the velvet sheets of artificial night, the dim glow of the control panel at his back, casting a shroud over his front. Hobie stood before him, gripping his guitar by the neck, resting it over the back of his shoulders. His other hand sat in his pocket, creating the illusion of comfort. Yet, beneath his lax exterior, Miguel could hear his heart pounding. Racing. Hobie drew a breath, looked off to the side.

“I don’t think that’s your decision to make, Big Man.” Eyes half-lidded, he returned to Miguel, dragging his stare. Lethargy. Gave a thin smile. “Though, I suppose that if you knew that – really believed it – you’d know that you don’t stand a chance–”

Miguel’s fists clenched, the sound of his suit squealing beneath his grip causing Hobie’s gaze to flicker. He swallowed, shallow. He knew what Miguel was capable of – had seen how many lives he’d gladly put at risk for you. And he’d do it again if it weren’t for the fact that your friendship to both him and Hobie was what kept them locked in a stalemate; a spectral triangle; Bermuda. An anomaly in itself.

Of course, you had no clue that you’d captured the hearts of the two superheroes. The problem was that they did. Their softened attitude towards you, their care for the most banal of features of your life, their seemingly bottomless investment in your close circle of friends and beyond could have been construed as platonic concern. Friendship of the highest degree.

Once they realised that, individually, they were not alone in the pursuit of your heart, a competition was born. Miguel, ever the organised, careful individual he was, orchestrated your time together, manufactured it, monitored it – poured over it with a fine-toothed comb. Many a night had he spent awake wondering what your accidental brushing of hands had meant, whether the warmth that had flushed your cheeks was the result of his presence or the joke he’d just cracked, your laughter Calliopic. Persephonic.

He savoured every hug you shared, no matter how brief, sewing the patchwork memories into the fabric of his heart, the fragrance soaking into his bones. Your phantom warmth wrapped around him tightly, a second suit, whenever he needed it – needed you. He’d find ways of encouraging physical contact whenever he could, his heart throbbing at the feeling of your face pressed into his chest, your arms around his back as he embraced you.

He wondered what your kisses tasted like. Whether you thought of him when you used that chapstick he bought you, ice cream cake – the aroma of celebration. Because, to him, any moment with you was a celebration.

Miguel would offer to take you home after work. Though, not via ordinary means of travel.

He’d permit you to hop onto his back and slide your arms around his neck, taking you on a spin through the city, bringing you to the highest peaks, the pinnacles of human beauty through neon illuminations making the city sparkle like a sea of jewels. He’d feel his heart stutter as you shifted to get a closer look, your chin almost resting on his shoulder, cheeks just touching as you gasped, took in the scenery. In times like these, he was glad of the mask, of his ability to hide the effect you had on him, how you played his emotions like a string instrument.

“I’ve never seen the city like this before,” you told him, voice gentle at his ear, almost carried away by the wind. Miguel heard you. He strained his every spider sense to do so, no matter the conditions.

“Hobie hasn’t done this with you?” He tried not to let the hope in his tone show. You shrugged.

“He’s more of a stargazing kind of guy. Though, I’ll let you in on a secret,” your voice tailed off. Miguel leaned in. You whispered. “I think he just doesn’t want to go pivoting off buildings after a long day of already having done so.”

Miguel felt an idea spark in his brain. The start of a new ritual, routine, for just you and him. This would be for him what stargazing was to hobie – he’d bring you closer to the stars than Hobie ever could!

Whenever he’d return you home, whisking you through the midnight air, he’d place you at your door, imply what a good time he’d had. And, as always, you thanked him, eyes crinkling before parting with a hug.

Miguel would wait until you’d enter your apartment and locked the door behind you before leaving, and even then, he’d find himself perched atop a nearby building, waiting for something, anything to happen – for any opportunity wherein he could prove to you he was a hero. In times like these, he wished with a selfish heart that you lived in a more decrepit part of the city.

He realised how much he loved you – adored you – when you fell asleep in his arms after work one evening. He’d been carrying you to your room when you just nodded off. In his grasp, you were tiny, fragile. Weak. The responsibility of protection, the fierce need to watch over you, to possess you entirely, overcame him, overwhelmed every sensibility he’d cultivated throughout his life.

And so, he watched you. Eneamoured himself with your sleeping features, the trust you displayed to have fallen asleep on him. In his mind, this becomes a core memory. One which he turns into a joke between the two of you, his own fragment of sanctity – the beginnings of close friendship – one he’d use to build a statue like Hobie’s. A statue of you.

Hobie’s eyes narrowed. His nose wrinkled as his lips turned up in a half-sneer.

“You think the odd hug and a second of eye contact constitute as…what? A chance?” He scoffed. “A signifier that she feels for you more than she feels for the common man?” Incredulity danced in hobie’s eyes. Seethed from between his lips. The corner of his lips pulled back, revealed a smirk.

“Get over yourself, Mate. If she were interested, you’d know it by now.”

Of course, Hobie had his own collection of memories regarding you, his own wardrobe of moments sewn together with the thread of mirth to wear and fashion whenever and however he so pleased. He would wear it out to parties, on the town, to the Spidey-Station (as he referred to it with you). Show Miguel that his bare-threaded ribbon was nothing compared to his tapestry.

You and Hobie would wander the city when it was late and dark and quiet, talking about anything and everything that crossed your minds, more often than not leading the two of you to howl with laughter, leaning against each other as tears flooded from your eyes. The story, regardless of how funny it had been, held no weight compared to the joy that sparked in Hobie’s chest whenever you touched, whenever you simply existed with him. Fireworks.

You got him in ways nobody else truly could.

Many times had he come to visit you, only to lay his head in your lap and tell you what was bothering him. Sometimes it was trivial, others it was not. And every time, you’d sit and listen, playing with his hair and the badges on his jacket. And, of course, Hobie did the same for you.

One evening, you’d come banging on Hobie’s door, voice distraught as you called for him. He practically tore the door off its hinges when he heard how distressed you were, and, when he saw you, his heart tore. Your face was tear-streaked and your posture gave the impression of anguish, immortal and unrelenting.

“Hobie,” you cried. “Am–” your sniffing diced your words like meat in a kitchen. “Am I pretty?!”

Hobie blinked, unsure if he’d heard the question. And when he didn’t respond, you wailed.

Hobie knew what this was, for you’d spoken about it at length many times before. Insecurity was a powerful tool, especially when fuelled with sleep-deprivation and alcohol, one which Hobie wished he could destroy. But, while he couldn’t do that yet, he reached for you and took you in his arms. And as you cried into his shoulder, he told you how beautiful you were, how surprised he was that he was able to get a look in with you at all with how many men were chasing after you. And when you tried to say that no such thing had ever happened, he pulled back, gave you a smile, the visage of mischief.

“That’s ‘cause I scared ‘em all away!”

Your veneer cracked, and a laugh sprung from the concrete, the beginnings of life in an apocalypse. What Hobie wanted to say, though, what he nearly said, was everything he felt for you – how no word in the human vernacular could ever even begin to comprehend or compare how ethereal you were to him, how widely his love for you encompassed his very being, everything he said, did and wanted dictated entirely by the thought of you.

He opened his mouth, holding you close again. He could say it all now, while you were drunk – pretend it never happened if the exchange turned sour. But he knew he couldn’t live with your rejection, even if you’d have no memory of it.

He closed his mouth, swallowed the confession that teetered on his tongue like a pill. Consumed his contemplation, obscuring his feelings from you for just a little longer. While he couldn’t say it – not yet – he pulled you closer still, chest-to-chest, one hand at the back of your head and the other wrapped around your waist. A lover’s lock. And he held you. Tightly.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in every universe, (Y/N). I should know.” he murmured. He felt you nestle into him. You’d heard him. He sighed. “I just wished you could see it, too.”

Both men viewed the other as possessing some unattainable advantage, the beginnings of a fabled proverb blatant in their desire to attain what they thought the other had. What they were both striving for.

You.

For Hobie, the very thing he had prided himself on was his self-believed downfall. Friendship. The two of you had been friends for years, basked in a platonic limelight. Initially, Hobie hadn't needed to worry about how you viewed him, but as he fell deeper and deeper in love with you the longer he knew you, the fact that you’d maintained such a close friendship with him without once giving the indication of romanticism frightened him.

Miguel had only waltzed into your life a few months ago. You didn’t have to see him in a platonic light, didn’t have to bear witness to his deepest faults or his subtlest of quirks. Quite simply, you didn’t know enough about him for his mystique to be shattered.

On the contrary, Miguel saw how close you and Hobie were, how, without saying a word, the two of you knew what the other was thinking. He found your incessant asking of “Do you think Hobie would like this?” when visiting a store to be intimidating. He wondered if you asked the same when you went out with Hobie. If he was the subject of your concern as your best friend often was.

Whereas Hobie knew your every thought and desire, Miguel knew he clutched at straws by comparison, drinking in every detail you afforded him, taking nothing for granted. He’d bring you gifts, stories, regalements from his time out in the field, and his chest would swell whenever you watched him with wide eyes. He hoped, with every fibre of his being, that your astonishment was confined to him and him alone. He prayed that your years of friendship to Hobie was enough to dull any excitement you may feel when he told you similar tales.

This war was simply beginning, no two ways about it. And as they surveyed each other, Hobie and Miguel, weighing up the other’s pull on you, their minds conjoined to speak once and for the last time.

“May the best man win.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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futureplayboibunnie · 7 months

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Heartless Pt.1

Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem! reader

You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.

okay i’ve redirected this fic and made it into a slowburn multi chapter series, in hindsight my last idea was too abrupt. i feel like this storyline is wayyyy better. I LOVEEEE SLOWBURN. i hope ya’ll like this one better! Part 2 up now!

PS. if you don’t like this type of stuff, don’t be stupid and comment on it because I really don’t care enough to hear it, use ur fingers and scroll. it’s not that hard.

You thought your wedding day would've been more romantic than this.

More personal, more involved, a consolidation of the many moments you shared with the man you were going to love forever, but free will and liberation were something that you gave up when your parents decided that it was in your family's entrepreneurial interest to participate in a partnership with the O'Hara Dynasty.

You weren't mad. It was just...different. You knew this day was coming but it was all wrapped together quite nicely, in a neat little bow.

Everything was done with the utmost sensitivity and respect, the O'Hara family's Consigliere placed piles of paperwork in front of you, NDAs were rarely ever necessary, and guns and fists normally did the trick but Miguel personally wanted all of this to be clean. He was getting married for the sole purpose of extending his power and influence, being a part of the 5 Families in this city wasn't something that was done without shedding blood. And Miguel shed a lot. This was a very important occasion to him, marriage was important in all generations of his family, and almost every single Don arranged a marriage with a woman from another Dynasty just for the purpose of spreading influence and agendas. Miguel and his brother talked for hours about it and in the end, he had to do what was necessary for his family and his capos. He needed to conserve what was his whilst also inserting his power.

Dealing with ill-tempered men and being a sounding board for their last scraps of sanity wasn't new but Miguel wasn't that. He was just silent in a way you didn't like. It was almost unsettling. Maybe it would be easier to hate him if he was an asshole, but he was very kind and respectful in the little words he said to you.

All of this was strictly professional, a beautiful show for the underworld. It was ridiculous and you felt like a fool, and after the day you had, it felt perfectly reasonable to feel that way.

It was your wedding day and word got around fast.

The dress he picked was fine.

The ceremony was fine

The ring was fine

Everything was just fine.

Now you were in his cold, lavishly destitute penthouse at an ungodly hour, sitting around, still in the wedding dress that you haven't taken off for some reason- maybe to compensate for the fact that you'll throw it in a corner, leave it in the cold and black dark, collecting dust for you to never see it again. Miguel's capos had to scamper around and follow you just about anywhere but for once, they left you alone with Miguel shooing them out.

Is this what your life would be like? Sitting around, waiting for something to happen? Was everything meant to be so banal and grey?

“You looked lovely today.” A low voice grumbled behind you, you whipped your head around to see Miguel leaving his study and entering the living room, he was still wearing his tux with that unknotted ugly bow tie that was crooked the whole ceremony. He looked tired. You gave him an agreeable smile in response.

"Thank you.” You said politely, there was just nothing purposeful behind your voice. All there was between you and Miguel was agreeable conversation, polite and meaningless drivel to distract from the very true and real fact that you were betrothed, you both owed each other something. Miguel gave you protection and you gave Miguel his pathway to influence- it was a business transaction, that was all, but it didn't mean that all of this wasn't abnormal. “I can't reach the zipper, can you please zip me down?” You asked as if it was a normal question- it wasn't for your kind of relationship but what the hell was normal nowadays? For Christ's sake, you were married to a man you barely knew and you slept in different rooms.

Miguel approached you in silence, watching you stand up from the couch and turn around. He liked the dress, he picked it out himself, you looked nice. His fingers found the zipper and pulled down slowly, watching the slivers of skin appear with every small tug down.

As far as women go, Miguel wasn't really that interested in sleeping around, every woman he shared himself with became a target or an opportunity pry into his head- he didn't want anyone messing with his internal affairs. Sometimes he'd cave and fuck one of the women serving him drinks at private poker nights, they always made eyes at him, begging him with fluttering eyelashes and wet lips to fuck them senseless. He was a man after all, sometimes it was enjoyable, sometimes it wasn't, he just needed to get off.

You on the other hand, you were unreadable in a way that he didn’t know how to approach.Though sometimes he did find you talking to him like an acquaintance vaguely irritating he would definitely be a hypocrite for calling you out.

It felt like you were holding your breath when he was finished, you settled baxk into your senses, he gazed over the patch of skin peeking out of your dress. He stopped his gawking when you turned around and gave him a weak smile like you would a friend or a neighbour. "Thank you. Goodnight Miguel.” You walked passed him and went to your designated room. Miguel did the same

You never really thought of yourself as an incurable romantic, but this was truly dull and you contemporary marriage like this. Even if it was to one of the most dangerous men in the city.

You awoke to a cacophony of sizzling and rustling noises coming from outside your room, your dreary eyes lulled by sleep couldn't fight against the delicious smell wafting from outside. Before you could fully register that breakfast was being made, the first thing you noticed was the heavy feeling of dread resting on your chest, you raked a tired hand over your face and rubbed your eyes awake. Opening them up fully, you saw the white fabric on the floor. In another life, the husband you actually loved would be laying next to you, whispering sweet nothings. Your wedding dress and veil were strewn about as if it was an article of clothing a teenage girl would carelessly discard while figuring out what to wear for a date with Tommy or Billy or Jason or whoever. But this wasn't high school drama, this was the type of life you were conditioned into.

Blood, war, and money.

You weren't complaining, the protection it offered you was immense. Miguel was a corrupt man dealing with equally corrupt politicians and people of interest, he had to adapt in his work but a part of you didn't believe he was the poisonous person everyone always made him out to be. Maybe it was because you hadn't seen him in his raw, primal ways, beating people bloody. That's what made you weary.

You shifted up and headed over to the walk-in wardrobe. This was the part that really stunted you, Miguel wanted you to wear what he specifically liked, everything was picked out by him and you still didn't know how to feel about it, but it made you grimace. You stepped in and glanced at the hangers, they were all ordered out by color and style. You noticed that he seemed to like satin and silk, and he was very particular about color, he liked black, silver, grey and even a baby blushed pink in certain articles. Your fingers grazed over the silk of the nightwear dresses, and the fabric of the gala dresses- you didn't like the idea of having to play pretend in front of too many people. You idled towards the drawers and wondered what he preferred when it came to underwear. You raised a cynical eyebrow and your lips pursed in curiosity as you let your finger pull it open.

Your mouth unhinged in a surprise you expected, but not in the way you thought of. He definitely had a thing for lingerie. God, there was a pair of everything, lacy, strappy, padded, unpadded, sheer garters, sparkly garters, knee highs, thigh highs. He was very particular indeed. It was tailored to your perfect cup size. Fucking hell. He liked Brazilian underwear but he seemed have an affinity for a thong too. You sighed and closed the drawer, you didn't want to read into it. Your eyes wandered to the muted pink silk robe hanging next to the drawer. Hm. That'll do for breakfast.

Miguel looked up from his newspaper to see you padding barefoot to the table where a spread was laid out. His maid, although young, ditzy and so obviously desperate to fuck him, was a very talented cook but the coffee she made always tasted like dirt. “Thank you.” He said to her plainly, he couldn't even look at her due to him being distracted by your presence. Your face creased into a light frown as you stared at the eye candy handing Miguel his coffee before she left as Miguel waved his hand. Of course the women who worked around him had to be insanely beautiful.

“Good morning.” Miguel grumbled before taking a sip. You were wearing the silk robe he liked. Good. Good girl.

You didn't say anything back, acting aloof and nonchalant seemed to be the only way of conserving whatever sanity you had left. The back of your throat had back drool when you stared at the delicious spread in front of you. You didn't know what you wanted to eat first. You grabbed a few pickings of everything, topped off with a mimosa. You ate in polite silence, minding your business, uninterested in anything he had to say at this point. Miguel settled down his newspaper and glared at you, you weren't particularly bothered by his presence, and that made him...unsettled. It went on like this for a solid few minutes.

“What?” You asked him, not even giving him the decency of looking him in the eye. Miguel was silent for a moment, contemplating your presence before he opened his mouth.

“We're leaving the city tonight.” He said oh so casually in that deep, low voice of his.

"And why is that?”You sighed tiredly, a slightly amused smirk twitched at your lips at this out-of-the-blue statement.

Miguel clicked his tongue and cooed at you, “Because cariño, my Consigliere has informed me that our marriage is not boding well with the other 5 Families, they think it's a covert attack in some sort of way, a questioning of power or sorts. And also..” He cut himself off for a reason unknown to him. “He also thinks it's a prudent idea to have a honeymoon, to hone everything in and make this...real.” He murmured as he rolled up his shirt sleeve.

Your eyes pricked up at the word 'real.' Wasn't this real? The papers were real. The ring was real. But the actual connection…? You glowered at him, your eyes narrowed.

“Do you think this is real?”

Miguel didn't know how to answer that. “Isn't real relative?”

“No.” You replied thickly like you didn't even need to think about it.

“Look. I don't want to discuss this.”

“So you can't compromise.” You shot back.

“No, I won't.” He pushed his chair back aggressively and sat his coffee down hard, he looked irritated by all of this. He didn't like that you thought you had the power to interrogate him.

Miguel walked past you as he went to exit the room but then for some reason he halted in his tracks. Compromise. Miguel is not known for compromising. The people around him know that for a fact, but he doesn't want this marriage to be another agenda that he has to put up with. He didn't want to hate you.

He sighed.

“Choose where we go. Tell my brother and he'll tell my pilot.” Miguel said coldly, his tone clipped and gruff even when he was trying to build a bridge of some sort.

It didn't seem like you had a choice, so now you were just another lackey he ordered around.

#spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

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ikeuverse · 2 months

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MI AMOR — p.jongseong

PAIRING: jay x fem!reader GENRES: smut, slight fluff WC: 3.8k+

WARNINGS: unprotected sex (wrap it up and do it carefully), little plot, a bit of swearing, slaps on the skin, mention of hanging, lmk if i've forgotten anything.

NOTES: my first smut on this account, finally? i confess i'm not happy at all because i tried to get out of my bubble and fulfill some requests. after a long time i'm back to writing this so please be nice because it's not something i usually write. i've done and redone something for jay countless times and this was the only time i found myself (somewhat) satisfied with the writing. let me know what you think, these feedbacks are always welcome and help me to produce more and more. i hope you enjoy it!

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The cold climate of the city contrasted with the warmth of the whisky Jay had drunk a few seconds ago. The slight burn in his throat made him wheeze as he drummed the glass in his fingers.

Arms resting on the table, tired eyes looking around and listening to the middle-aged man with his Spanish accent talk about everything that involved money to him.

It was banal, and uninteresting that Jay was listening to all this while the men laughed at completely idiotic jokes and drank more of their expensive drinks.

"Are you tired, chico?" he asked, catching Jay's eye and he looked up at the man.

Now everyone else was talking about something while the oldest of them was looking in Jay's direction. He gave a quick smile, raising his glass and showing that he had finished his whisky.

"I'm just trying to pick things up…"

"Yes, I see" he came around the table to sit next to Jay, "You don't want to take over your father's things, do you?"

Jay really didn't want to. Being in that environment was not at all what he imagined would happen to his future. Of course, he knew about his father's business, he knew how much money he had and what he did to make it happen. But Jay simply didn't want to be part of it, not when he hadn't asked to be there.

"I assure you it will be quiet, I promise to take care of you" the man's sentence was interrupted by knocks on the door. Slight, but he managed to hear it and nod to Jay as he momentarily turned away "Mi hija."

Jay didn't want to turn around so abruptly because he knew who it was, but it was impossible not to look in your direction when he heard your voice. He'd be lying if he said he'd only accepted that damn meeting in the middle of an even worse week just because he was going to your father's house. Anyway, he'd find you and here you are.

"Hi, papá. I was wondering if you'd finished the meeting" your Spanish accent was much better than your father's, that's for sure. Jay loved it.

"Am I keeping him too long?" your father asked, making you roll your eyes as the older man made room for your figure to appear in Jay's field of vision.

He shuddered as soon as your eyes met, you looked beautiful. Like never before. And it wasn't anything fancy or anything like he always used to see when his parents got together. You were wearing simple, completely casual clothes and your loose hair gave your figure even more comfort.

"I don't think you can leave him there knowing that he doesn't feel comfortable" you said afterward, still looking at Jay as you beckoned him to come closer.

And he did. He didn't want to listen to any more of those men while you were calling him in such a graceful and unique way. The boy's feet just moved towards you and stopped close enough to you, still remembering the figure of his father next to the two of you.

"Can we continue this conversation later, Park?" your father asked, his voice serious but not at all angry.

"Of course" Jay greeted him and waited for you to leave the room before following behind you.

A considerable distance in that huge corridor as the footsteps headed towards the elevator. Once your father had closed the door and the two of you were waiting, Jay finally managed to slip one of his arms around your waist and pull your body against his. Your back pressed against Jay's chest, your hand on his arm sliding down to his hand resting on your stomach.

"How did you know I was here?" he whispered between your hair, his lips moving down to your neck and placing a kiss there. That gave you a slight shiver before you pulled away from Jay as soon as the elevator arrived.

The two of you entered and you quickly pressed the button to the first floor to get out.

"I saw your car in front of the mansion" you said so simply that he didn't have anything to say.

Jay hadn't parked thinking you'd recognize him. He had the perfect plan to text you and ask you to meet him in front of his house because he would already be there. But you found him first.

"So you recognize him?" Jay joked and hugged you again, this time facing you and placing a kiss on the top of your head.

"Impossible not to recognize him when we've lived through so much in there, mi amor."

He laughed out loud at your response, but knowing full well that it was all true. Being with you in any corner of the house, his car, or the city, had a little piece of you both. There were memories that you both shared, with Jay between your legs or with the marks of your mouth all over his body. Jay wanted to remind you of him in every way.

"Come on, I'll get you out of here" he intertwined his fingers in yours as the elevator opened, quickly leaving and heading for his car.

"And where are you taking me?" you asked. Your hands were still intertwined with his, but you didn't let go until you reached Jay's car.

He unlocked and opened the door for you, letting you in on the passenger side while he quickly turned around to get in on the driver's side.

"You know the mountain overlooking the sea that Sunghoon mentioned last week?" Jay glanced at you as he started the car and pulled out from where it was parked.

"That he went with his girlfriend? I think I know" you tried to remember, knowing that he and Sunghoon talked about a lot of things and even if you knew them all, it was always good to try to remember.

"We never had sex there, did we?" you almost choked at Jay's sudden question, glancing up quickly when he felt your gaze on him, laughing as you imagined the horrified expression on his face. But he had to pay attention to the road in the meantime. "Answer me, mi amor" he slid his hand up your thigh, squeezing it even though the restriction of your pants prevented him from touching your skin.

"Never" you replied.

"Good" he managed to look at you for a few seconds, squeezing your thigh even tighter before turning his attention back to the road.

That would be another place you and he would claim, as you had done with almost every corner of the city you had visited together.

The contact of Jay's fingertips with your skin sent shivers throughout your body. He took all the time in the world with you, from taking you to the back of the car to undressing you slowly while you sat on his lap, kissing you just as slowly.

In those moments when Jay felt he needed you even more than usual, it was good to be able to enjoy every little moment you could.

The view of the mountain had been forgotten the second you both jumped into the back seat, knowing that the real journey there hadn't been the view from outside the car. You two could do that later, perhaps.

Nibbling on Jay's lower lip, you heard him hiss softly at the slightly better contact between the undersides of both your bodies after you'd got rid of your pants and were down to your underwear.

He loved feeling you. He loved everything you were capable of doing to his body and that's because the two of you were only kissing at the moment, but Jay felt so aroused that the tightness of his boxer shorts was beginning to show.

"I missed you so much" he whispered after a while in silence.

The breeze outside was the only sound apart from the kiss you two shared. You smiled, moving your face away from him enough so that Jay could look at you in the dim light of the night.

Your beauty was unreal. He couldn't tell you how lucky he was to be able to have you with him and call you his girlfriend. Jay knew that you were worth more than any money his father could have made from those businesses.

Making millions, leading things he didn't even want to know about, none of that compared to having met you. The scenario itself wasn't the best, you were his father's business partner's daughter, but seeing you at a fortnightly party while you blew off every man who came your way made Jay sigh. He would be the next to get dumped, you wouldn't give a chance to the man who didn't even want to be there in the first place.

But Jay was taken aback when he needed a breather and left the hall, finding you leaning against a bench and staring off into the distance. Talking to you that night only started what you and he had slowly built up to.

Did you also think the same, how Jay was the only one who managed to win your heart? You knew which men your father worked with and you'd be lying if you said you didn't look at any of them. But you'd be honest enough to say that no one had caught your eye like Jay did.

He was different from all the others because he was there with you. After all, you were... You. Not because you were the daughter of someone like your father. Jay didn't even care about that, to tell you the truth. He only focused on you and only you.

"Mi amor" Jay's whisper brought you out of your thoughts, his hand now resting on your ass and squeezing the flesh without too much force when you looked down. You were sitting perfectly aligned on the head of his cock, evident by the erection almost bursting through the fabric.

Your eyes went up to Jay's face and he smiled lazily, his mouth pink from the newly shared kiss as his hand squeezed a little tighter at the same second that your hip – involuntarily – brushed against his.

"Baby, fuck" he moaned, feeling his boxers get wet with pre-cum and knowing that his slide was only being made easier because you were just as wet as he was. Your wetness slowly spread as you rolled your hips back.

"What? Do you want to see the view then, mi amor?" you teased, nibbling on Jay's cheek and trailing your lips down to his jaw. Your moan was so sly when your boyfriend's hands pushed your panties aside enough for him to slide his hand down to your pussy.

Parting your lips and collecting a good amount of your juices, Jay let his fingers move slowly up and down your pussy until he found your clit.

"I'm having the best of it" he whispered, circling your clit with ease due to how wet you were.

Your moan was music to his ears as his fingers worked on circling your swollen, needy muscle. Jay knew how sensitive you were in that area and paying attention to that before anything else was something he prioritized, even if his cock was starting to ache from how much it was throbbing to be inside you.

"Jay, I need..." his fingers slid down your pussy until he had two of them in your hole, squeezing them as he began to pump in and out.

"What do you need?" he asked. You wanted to punch him for his audacity, even though he was being careful while he fucked you with his fingers in such a delicious way. Hitting specific spots and pressing his thumb on your clit "Tell me. I want you to tell me, y/n."

Motherfucker. Jay was a cute son of a bitch for being like that even when he wasn't degrading you and wanting to take care of every inch of your body.

You rolled over with his fingers inside you, one of your hands going to the hair on the back of his neck and pulling Jay's face back against the back of the seat. From that angle, his neck was even more visible to you and the marks you would leave on his tanned skin would be a reminder of what it was like the first time the two of you were on that mountain in his car.

"Baby" he whimpered as your teeth slid across his skin, nibbling and muffling his moans as Jay's fingers slid in and out of her wet pussy. The lewd sound of wetness made your eyes squeeze shut tightly as you still nibbled on it and made your way to Jay's earlobe.

"I love your fingers, you know" your voice was charged with arousal and you were panting, you wanted to moan when Jay stopped moving them, wanting to pay attention to you. But that didn't stop you from contracting your pussy and squeezing his fingers, causing your boyfriend to bring his other hand up to your thigh to slap you.

The burning on your skin combined with how fucked up you were just from being in that position and how you both were. You weren't going to come at that moment.

"But I love it even more when I have your cock inside me."

"Is that what you want?" Jay asked, his fingers slowly pulling out of you. You didn't have to be a master to know that now it was your turn to work, lifting your hips enough for him to take off your boxers and help you out of your panties, abandoning them along with everything else on the floor of the car.

That's exactly what you wanted. It was his cock that you'd been craving ever since you and Jay got into the back seat of the car. So that's what he was going to give you anyway. But not before teasing you some more.

Holding the base and taking advantage of the angle you were at so he could enter you, Jay ran the tip of his cock all over your pussy. Only pre-cum could help it go in easily, especially as his fingers had worked hard enough to make you wet for him too. But you knew it wouldn't stop there.

Circling your clit with the tip of his cock, then going down your hole and teasing where you wanted him at that moment. Jay didn't enter you, just stroking everything he could and collecting as much of your juices as he could to wet his cock.

"You're..."

"I'm what?" he asked, at which point Jay's cock released itself as soon as it was at your entrance and, rolling his hands to your hips, he pulled you down and thrust himself into you in one go "Say it, mi amor."

He ordered his voice raspy, a moan caught in his throat as your pussy hugged him so tightly. In such a delicious way that it fit so perfectly.

A few seconds passed before your hands went to his face, holding him so close and feeling Jay's breathing hitch as your hips began to work.

"You're a motherfucker" you laughed softly, letting him kiss you as you moaned through his movements.

Jay wanted you to take the lead that night, bouncing on his cock and slapping your ass against his thighs as you sat down the way you wanted. He wanted to feel you, he wanted to go deep inside you, but with your movements. It was the night that Jay needed you so badly, but at the same time, he didn't want to be rude. So making you sit on him was a way of being able to look at you and appreciate your features in front of him. The movement of your body going up and down, your chest pressed against his as your mouth opened to moan his name when the kiss became too much to bear.

He loved fucking you, loved swearing at you as he shoved his cock roughly into you. Jay loved going slow and making love, hearing you declare yourself, and being able to declare yourself too. But unlike all that, nothing could compare to the needy sex he loved to have with you.

As if every time his cock hit its sweet spot, he needed to hold onto any part of your body without letting go of you. Afraid that you would run away or get away from him before it was all over. That was when Jay allowed himself to be vocal all the time, with his hands squeezing your hips and leaving even stronger marks so that you would remember the next morning what the two of you had done.

Jay didn't want it to ever end, least of all with the stuffy air inside the car, the sounds of skin slapping, and your moans mingling with his. One thing fits into another to make that sex one of the best yet.

You gave in to Jay when you felt his hands go to your ass, gripping your buttocks tightly as your hips began to wobble. He knew you'd come at any moment – he wasn't much different – so helping you wouldn't be a problem.

Lifting you there, up and down on his cock, Jay tilted his hips in search of more contact to go to your limit, where his cock reached you and made you scream his name without caring if anyone else was out there to hear you two. All that mattered was how much you needed your boyfriend and how good he made you feel.

"Jay, mi amor..." you whimpered to him as your stomach gave the all-too-familiar feeling it was coming. Your hands, which were still holding his face, slid up to Jay's neck and one of them grabbed him by the throat. You didn't think about that act, being the only visible place you could hold on to as he leaned in to get you fucked before you both reached the edge.

"I know, baby. I know, come with me" the brushing of lips against each other, the uneven breathing as you moaned his name and he moaned yours.

You'd already forgotten the sting of Jay's nails digging into your ass, helping you move up and down on his cock and matching the movements with his hips thrusting into you. Your fingers on his neck tightened a little, by instinct, and that made Jay's eyes widen.

For a second he stopped his movements and stared at you. You stared back, not knowing what had happened, ready to open your mouth and ask him what was going on.

"Do it again" he ordered.

"What?" you swallowed, your throat dry from keeping your mouth open too long and your eyes searching for an answer to what your boyfriend had said.

"Squeeze..." he whispered "Your hand on my neck again, please."

Your eyes rolled to where he had said it, noticing only now that his hand had wrapped around her neck. Of course, it was nothing compared to when Jay did that, like a human necklace around your neck when he held you there. But you could see the effect it had on him when the orbs darkened and Jay thrust his cock deep into you again.

A scream and a moan came from your throat as the movements resumed, and you squeezed his neck again with your fingertips, using a little more force and seeing his eyes close in the process. Jay couldn't believe that this would make him come even more easily.

He could ask you to do it again and again if he had to, because it was something new that had made his cock throb even more inside you.

With your free hand, you leaned on the back of the seat next to Jay's head, helping to lift his hips as you squeezed his neck and let him fuck you into oblivion.

"Come with me, mi amor" your whisper was a warning that your knot was bursting, that you were going to come and you wanted him to be on the same frequency. And he was.

Because as soon as everything broke, your pussy contracted on his cock as you came. It didn't take half a second for Jay to spill inside you, hot jets of cum invading you as his cock was milked by every spasm of your twitching pussy.

He moaned your name with his lips parted, so inviting that you couldn't stand it, and nibbled on the bottom one, taking it between your lips while still riding Jay through the rest of the orgasm until there was nothing left.

The next few minutes were spent with Jay carefully getting you off his lap and reaching for the shirt he was wearing earlier to clean you up. Carefully because of the overstimulation and how sensitive you were.

You wanted to remain sitting on his lap, cuddled up to your boyfriend who was still trying to normalize his breathing little by little.

"I missed you, you know that?" Jay said after a while in silence, glancing quickly outside to notice the darkness of the night and then looking back at you. Exhausted, your skin is illuminated by the reflection of the moonlight and the sweat from your sudden activities. Jay cracked a wide smile at that.

"Why didn't you tell me you were there? I missed you too and I could have gotten you out of that room so quickly..."

"I know. I'm sorry, mi amor" Jay let you kiss his lips in the process, hugging your body to his, both of you tired "I wanted to try and surprise you."

"And you did it by bringing me here" you said with your lips still close to his, hearing your boyfriend's laugh even though it was low.

"How about we see the other view now? Or do you want to continue?" Jay asked.

You seemed to think for a moment, looking at him and then out of the car before letting out a sigh.

"A bit of that view wouldn't be a bad idea" you shrugged "But we can come back here later, we've got all night."

It was your turn to laugh when Jay looked shocked, but then grateful that you'd said that since he didn't want to leave too soon. He wanted to enjoy all the time he had with you.

The truth was that the boy didn't like anything his family was involved in, nothing his father had in mind for his future. But being in that environment had led Jay to you.

So perhaps the only good thing about being there was that he had you by his side. And for that Jay would always be grateful.

#enhypen #enhypen smut #jay smut #enhypen jay #enhypen au #enhypen scenarios #enha smut #jongseong smut #park jongseong smut #enhypen masterlist #enhypen x reader #jay x reader #jay fanfics #jongseong x reader #enhypen imagines

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toms-cherry-trees · 1 year

Text

Thrilling Chase || Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: All the girls want him. One does not. And he wants her

Word Count: 1551

Warnings: Not really. Aemond being a bit more of book Aemond than show Aemond and being overall annoyed with life

Author’s note: I dreamt this plot Sunday night and spend the entire day racking my brains to turn it into a fic. Please let me know about any errors, I am still polishing my English. Also this Aemond I am not sure I got the characterization right but I liked how it turned out. And remember I interact from @finite--incantatem

The ball is being hosted with the purpose of celebrating Aegon’s nameday. What better way to celebrate the anniversary of his birth than being surrounded by fine drinks and lovely ladies, a field full of flower buds for him to pick and spoil? Aemond can barely stand the frivolous pomp and pageantry, the ass kissing lords showering his brother and father in banal pleasantries and praises, as if any one of them paid any heed to such flummery; one too inebriated to care and the other unable to hear anything above his own wheezing.

Aemond has tried to excuse himself three times before the feast has even been served; as dutiful as he could be, even he has a limit, and his limit has been long surpassed by this insufferable event. But his weak spot has overcome his distaste, in the form of his gentle mother, who implores him to play the part for the evening. His sweet mother, who does everything in her power for the family to present a united front, all while sweeping the shambles behind the drapes. Only for her happiness is he willing to endure this foolery.

He hoped that chatting up some minor lordlings and not yawning before them would be enough to fulfil his obligations; but he has not accounted for the unwanted feminine attention. Aemond thought his physical imperfections and his downright hostile demeanour would be enough to ward off the ladies, but he could not deny the facts; as the eldest bachelor in the family, he remains a coveted prize to whom lords would offer their daughters in silver trays. He can vividly imagine them, ambitious men whispering in the ears of their girls and urging them to employ any means necessary to get in Aemond’s good graces. Only then could he explain the parade of fair maidens, all of them more adorned than carnival horses, showering him with their candid smiles and their coy giggles, batting their eyelashes and hinting most cunningly how much they would love to dance. They all seem to ask the same pre thought and bland questions; if one more lady asks to ever see Vhagar, Aemond would go and bring her down to the hall for them to see up close and personal.

Just when he hopes he has done enough to please his mother and the crowds, the first dances begin. One look from the Queen deters his efforts to flee the scene; without word, he has been reminded that his duty has yet to conclude. But Aemond would much rather eat Aegon’s toes than be found dancing with a lady. All his dexterity and gracefulness in the sparring yard do not translate to his waltzing skills; while he could be fast and silent and slippery in the face of the enemy, at the tune of the strings he possesses the elegance of a rotting tomato left in the sun.

The Prince knows the second he sets foot into the dance floor, he will be swarmed with adoring girls. But he cares not for them, since he has already set his eye on one. Just like the others she is burdened by golds and silks and stones, but unlike them, she carries her adornments with such grace and dignity that the opulence of her garments only brings forth her natural beauty.

There is something in her, something unidentifiable and unexplainable, that makes her so…so alluring. It may be the way her lips hold a perennially ineffable smile, so subtle one cannot truly tell it is there, but the mere possibility of its existence is enough to entice the mind.

It could also be her hands. Aemond cannot stop staring at them, from the way her fingers curl around the stem of the goblet, to the particular way they bend when she holds onto the pendant hanging from a fine gold chain around her neck, a subtle move that occurs whenever a young man engages her in conversation. Her left hand holds delicately onto a small fan, although its purpose seems to add to her aura of mysticism rather than keep her cool; her face disappears behind it whenever her smile becomes too wide, only her piercing eyes remaining visible, keeping her expressions unreadable, a most intriguing secret.

Only the greatest artists of the country, working for years on the best of marbles, could even dare to come close to resembling her splendour. The figure of the Maiden brought to life, and that would be a most dashing compliment - for the Goddess.

If he is to dance, he must dance with her.

He cuts through the crowd, moving past wide-eyed ladies and squeezing around dancing couples with one objective in mind. She is right there, standing near the pillar bearing the image of King Jaehaerys. She is alone, and she saw him coming. The proximity of the prey has Aemond on edge, muscles tense and ready to pounce. A man cuts his way, and he pushes him aside vigorously, but it is too late. Her figure has disappeared amongst the crowd like a vision.

Aemond spots her again a few minutes later, near the massive gates of the hall. Once more he approaches her, but he is distracted by his mother asking something, and once more loses his chance. The process repeats several times, with her always standing just at his fingertips but never close enough to grasp, her presence so real yet also so unsubstantial he begins to think he is trapped in a vivid dream.

The Prince is well damn tempted to just order everyone but her out of the chamber, but there is something in the chase, the subtle yet invigorating excitement of the pursuit, the way his pupil is blown wide and his jaw set in concentration. A sensation he has only ever experienced while wielding his sword in the training yards or soaring the skies with his dragon. An unexplainable elation, all due to this little dove who keeps flying away.

Aemond groans in frustration as she evades him once more. How can she be so fast and nimble while wearing a heavy gown? Are the Seven playing a wicked game on him, fate holding the prize above his head just out of reach? He does not care now for dancing nor pleasing his mother. This is a matter of pride; to go through all these obstacles to drop out mid-hunt would be shameful and disappointing.

She is now across the room, now more easily visible due to the dwindling crowds. She is looking straight at him, half her face obscured by her fan. But she pulls it down softly, painfully slow, and Aemond’s heart beats frantically in his chest, like he is witnessing the unveiling of the world’s greatest mystery. The fan rests lightly on her chin, and she rewards the prince with a cunning smirk.

She is doing it on purpose.

It all makes sense now. How could he be so stupid not to realise she has been playing the game alongside him? Evading him and taunting him, letting him think he had her and then slipping away like sand. This newfound knowledge spurs his desires. He needs to have her close, needs to know who she is and why is she doing this to him. His decorum and self-control slips away as a new feeling blooms within him. A warmth blooming in the depths of his body and spreading through his body. The more he cannot have her, the more he wants her. She may be akin to the image of the Maiden, but Aemond is sure the deity has never evoked the thoughts now crossing his mind, nor has any other woman ever before.

Determined to sate his curiosity, and perhaps some other lowly needs, he makes a straight line for her. She does not move nor backs out, and he can already feel the silk of her dress under his fingertips and the scent of her perfume in his nose. He doesn’t understand where the primal urge to crash his lips against hers stem from, but he is ready to give in to that urge as well.

His marching is cut abruptly by the colliding of his body against a long table. He had been so focused and lost, so unlike himself, that he paid no attention to anything or anyone around him, his vision like a tunnel focused upon her. The table is so long he would have to wander half the hall to circumvent it, and he still has enough hold of his wits to know it would be improper to vault over it or slide under the tablecloth. They are so close, yet the brief distance is unbreachable for the time being.

His eye meet hers, the mischief dancing in her pupils. The corners of those soft lips tug just a bit more, sly and bewitching. She backs away slowly, the fan coming up once more to shield her face. She turns around and disappears behind a column amidst the rustle of stiffened skirts and the tinkling of her bracelets

Defeat overcomes the Prince, but a smirk spreads across his own lips. He has not given up the chase; he is just giving the dove a head start before the hunt resumes.

#marsie writes #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond one eye #aemond kinslayer #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen one shot #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond stannies

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khimili · 2 years

Text

fly me to the moon

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Summary: Bucky loves to flirt with you, and most of the time it just leaves you flustered and confused. Because you like him, a lot, and he’s infuriatingly handsome. He's quite a ladies' man and it shows. He knows exactly what to say and where to touch you to sweep you off your feet. But maybe there’s more to it. Word count: 7.5k Warnings: cocky!bucky, mutual pining, two idiots in love, teasing, flirting, banter, sexual tension, a bit of angst, smut (dirty thoughts, masturbation, dirty talk, dry sex, edging, oral sex, unprotected penetration, praise kink), fluff Author's note: I’m literally obsessed with cocky!Bucky and I’ve been dying to write something like this for ages. It’s long, it’s messy but I was inspired and I hope you’ll like it. Banal, ordinary, conventional, predictable, exceeded, seen and reviewed, flat, unoriginal cliché ahead, bear with me please!

“Listen Y/L/N,” Bucky said casually, looking at you with a boyish smile of his own. “If you want me to take you out for dinner, just ask.”

You shook your head and tried without success to find your voice. It seemed to be jammed in your throat somewhere, and even though you had already done it multiple times, your eyes insisted on taking another inventory of tall, broad and handsome man standing in front of. He didn’t seem to mind you looking. In fact, if that cocky smile of his was any indication, he liked it rather a lot. Heat crept up your cheeks and he laughed, the sound reverberating somewhere deep inside you, drying your mouth and wetting other portions of your anatomy.

“If you think I’m going to purposely spend one of my few nights off with you, you’ve got another think coming.”

“Now, now, is that any way to talk to the man you love?”

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Barnes,” you teased, rolling your eyes playfully. “You’re not even as charming as you think you are.”

“Doll,” he sighed, suddenly grabbing his chest dramatically. “You’re breaking my heart.”

“You’ll get over it, I’m sure.”

You tried to play it cool, just waiting for him to quit fooling around. You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him your best tough-chick-with-an-attitude look. Unfortunately, he seemed less than impressed. God, why did he have to be so gorgeous? His clingy shirt showed off a broad, powerful chest tapering into a lean waist that you knew featured a six-pack in the ab area. He caught you staring and flashed you a satisfied smile. You were pretty sure smiles like that were against the law in some state. Suffering from a severe case of jelly-knees, you had to look away.

“Come on, there has to be something you like about me,” he said, leaning back into his chair, arms behind his head. “Be honest.”

“Barnes,” you warned. “Your little mind games don’t work on me.”

“Admirable deflection, doll,” he laughed. “You never struck me as the type who would be afraid of her own desires. But if you prefer to pine, gazing longingly from across the room when you think I’m not paying attention, shutting down any feelings that get in the way of–“

“Fine!” you interrupted him, nearly shooting. “Parts of you, maybe.”

“What?” he asked, his amusement instantly replaced by interest.

“There are parts of you I like,” you mumbled, as if it was something to be ashamed of.

And it was a blatant lie. Because there were so many things you liked about him.

“Care to be a little more specific, doll?”

“Your hands,” you admitted, watching him looking at his flesh hand. “Both of them.”

“My hands,” he said faintly, stretching his vibranium fingers, making you shiver from head to toe in the process.

“Yes,” you admitted. “You have– You have beautiful hands.”

“I’d like so much to know what sinful fantasy’s going through you head right now.”

“Don’t. Barnes, just– Please, don’t,” you begged, a hint of desperation in your voice.

“Jesus, doll,” he said, his flesh hand closing around your arm gently. “Do you expect me not to use this to full advantage?”

“Well, I– I was told you’ve been raised to be a gentleman.”

You said it in a very calm, steady voice, even though your heart was jackhammering. His hand felt wonderfully warm and solid on your arm, and his body seemed to radiate a comforting heat. Up close, you could smell his perfume, along with an exotic, musky scent you couldn’t put a name to. It was difficult to think properly when he was invading your personal space like this, and lately he was doing this a lot. You fought your arousal as hard as you could, but when he was standing so close to you with this very predatory look on his face, it was a battle you couldn’t win.

“Do you wish to know what I like about you, doll?”

“Barnes,” you whispered as a warning.

For a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you. And to be honest, you wanted him to kiss you, wanted to lose yourself in sensual pleasure. But he didn’t, and it was just as well. You were ashamed that he could reduce you to a whimpering puddle of lust from barely doing anything. That he could take control so quickly.

“Relax. I’m not going to ravish you on that worktop,” he laughed gently, handing you a clean mug from the dish rack. “Would you be a dear and put that back in its proper place for me?”

“Sure.”

Slowly, you turned around on shaky legs, taking a deep, steadying breath. You pushed up onto your toes and raise your arms to reach the top cupboard, sliding the cup in its place.

“This,” he said quietly, his fingers gliding over the exposed skin along the curve of your waist, making you shiver. “I like this a lot.”

“Fine! Take me out for dinner,” you suddenly exclaimed, shutting the cupboard door and pushing him away. “Now, back off.”

“See?” he asked, smug satisfaction spreading across his handsome face. “All you had to do was ask.”

Before you could fully process what he had said, he stepped in close and bent down. He brushed a light kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“You’re the worst.”

Bucky Barnes was a fucking tease. That’s what you were thinking, trying to regain your composure in the ladies’ room. He had spent the whole evening playing with your nerves. Small touches here and there, charming smiles and fine words, making you gradually lose your mind. He was good at that. Almost too good. And that was what scared you the most with him. You had no intention to become another notch on a rather long belt of meaningless one-night stands. You knew too damn well how he were, but that didn’t prevent you from being attracted to him like a stupid moth to a flame. A very sexy flame. Tall and broad and handsome. And–

Fuck. You clearly needed to get your shit together. That dinner – which you insisted wasn’t a date, would soon be over and you would go on your separate ways. You would go to your bedroom and lock the door. You would probably touch yourself to get rid of your nasty thoughts, trying your best not to moan his name out loud. You’d think about his large hands, his tempting mouth, his hard cock pounding relentlessly into your pussy as he’d fuck you face-first into the mattress with your hands behind your back. That sole idea made sucked in a breath; hands wrapped tight around the sink. You nearly jumped out of your skin when the door opened behind you.

“What the fuck, Barnes,” you exclaimed. “You’re in the ladies’ room!”

“Oh, come on, as if you didn’t want me to follow you there,” he laughed with a cocky smile, walking toward you like a fucking predator. “Are you going to deny it?”

You found yourself unable to answer as you watched him coming closer to you. You wanted to run, and at the same time you wanted to throw yourself at him. In the blink of an eye, he was facing you.

“Barnes,” you nearly begged. “Don’t…”

“Kiss me,” he asked, his lips nearly touching yours. “Kiss me, and I swear to god, if you don’t feel anything I’ll leave you alone.”

“One kiss?” you asked, your voice full of hope.

“One kiss.”

You could do this. You were an adult, not a goddam horny teenager. All you had to do was kiss him and be done with it. What was the worst that could happen? You just had to pretend that you were not attracted to him. Because even though he was a lady’s man, you knew he would keep his word. Your eyes went from his to his lips, and back again. You were rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to speak. One of his hands went to your cheek and you stopped breathing for a moment. You couldn’t think. And when he bent down and brushed his lips against yours, you rational thoughts flew out the window.

“Nothing,” you lied, almost breathless, but he made no move to let you go. “Barnes, you promised. You promised you’d leave me alone.”

“But you didn’t kiss me, doll,” he purred. “I did. Come on now, be a good girl and do as you’re told.”

Your thighs clenched to his words. This man would be the death of you. You pushed up onto your toes. Shoving one hand into his hair, you gripped the back of his head and pulled him down. Bucky watched your eyes until your mouth touched his. You saw his lashes lower, felt a small quiver run through him. You had intended a little, teasing peck to his lips, but that tremble made something snap inside you. You tipped your head and kissed him hard, nails scratching through his hair and down the back of his neck. To your delight, he growled, hands snapping up to wrap around your waist.

Suddenly, he dragged you forward, shifting his feet beneath you. He set one on the inside of your legs and pulled you onto his thigh. He traced your lips with the point of his tongue and you pressed closer to him, your hand slipping under his shirt to rest on his abdomen. He was solid, and warm, and goddammit, an incredible kisser. He dragged one hand up your back and wrapped the length of your hair around his fist. He tugged, tipping your head further before giving a quick, exploratory sweep of his tongue across yours, making you moan.

Before you could stop yourself, you wriggled. His leg was solid between yours, pressing exactly where your wanted. You whimpered again and sank your teeth into his lower lip, your nails still digging into his nape, holding for dear life. Bucky made a small sound that seemed half-caught in his throat and you pulled back, scraping his lips between your teeth, to look at him. His eyes were closed, his cheeks were flushed pink, and his pulse were fluttering above his collar. You hated to admit it, but he had proven his point. You were obviously attracted to him, but that didn’t mean you had to give in you urges.

“That was–“ you started with a hoarse voice. “That was not–“

His eyes shot open and in one swift motion, he made your turn around, pressing your back to his chest.

“Look at you, Y/L/N,” he whispered, grabbing your throat to make you look at your own reflection in the mirror. “Wearing this– This fucking dress… You like to torment me, don’t you?”

“Nothing–“ you whimpered, shifting your heels to give him better access. “Nothing to do with you.”

“Is that so?” he asked with a low growl, grazing his teeth along your neck, his flesh hand finally finding its way under your dress. “Jesus… That’s why you went commando tonight, right?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but your tongue appeared to be glued to the roof of your mouth. You had too many brain cells focused on the pulsing heat at the small of your back to unstick it. You were literally swimming in arousal at this point, and you suspected you would expire of frustration if your demon were to stop his mind game. As if on cue, Bucky’s tongue flicked out, tasting the shell of your ear. When a sound finally escaped your throat, it wasn’t the protest you had been planning; it was a low, urgent moan.

“Please,” you sighed, clenching your thighs together against the sudden surge of your desire.

“Good girl,” he cooed, tightening his grip around your waist, making you feel the entire length of him in your back.

You expected him to take advantage of the situation. In some ways, it would have been easier for you to hate him. Against all odds, he simply took your hand and guided it to the juncture of your thighs, leaving warm kisses on your neck while doing so. You fought against his urging for about half a second before giving in with a strangled moan. Your desire was just too much for you to fight it. It felt like you had to come, or you would break into tiny little pieces, never to be put together again. It was his fingers you craved, but you’d rather die on the spot than admit it out loud.

Slowly, you slipped your hand between your legs and stroked yourself, his fingers laced to yours in a possessive embrace. The touch was gentle, barely there as you drew lazy circles over your sensitive clit. Your cheeks burned in shame when you realized how wet you were. Closing your eyes, you put just a bit more pressure on your clit, sending an electric shock through your nerves. Your shallow panting turned into a moan against your better judgement. There was something far too intimate in the way the both of you were standing.

“You drive me crazy, doll” he growled in your ear, biting your lobe. “You have no idea what’s going through my head right now.”

“Tell me,” you begged, fastening the peace of your fingers without even realizing it. “Please.”

“My, my, Y/L/N, you’re something else you know that?” he asked with a chuckle. “D’you wish to know what I’d do to you if you were mine?”

“Yes,” you moaned, grasping the back of his neck with your free hand to stop you from tripping because of your wobbly legs.

“I’d spread your legs and put my fingers inside your sweet cunt, finding you soaked just for me,” he purred, grinding against you. “I’d hold your hips still and drag my tongue all along your slit. I’d eat you out and make you come so good, doll.”

“James,” you moaned, your hand tugging at his hair.

“Maybe I’d push your face down to worship and suck my cock, would you like that? Put that tempting mouth of yours to good use,” he resumed, and even though you didn’t answer, the loud moan that escaped your lips spoke volume. “You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you? I’d bend you over and fuck your tight little cunt, make you come all over my cock again and again ‘til you beg me to stop.”

“I– I’m coming,” you whimpered.

“That’s it, good girl, come for me,” he praised, smiling against your skin. “Let go, Y/N.”

It was your name on his lips that sent you over the edge and your vision flashed white with pleasure. The tail end of the orgasm rippled through you as you realized you were in the middle of a public restroom and your hand was still between your leg. Muscles quivering in the aftermath of the massive release, you lay your head on his shoulder and breathed like a runner at the end of a marathon. For a long, breathless moment, you bathed in the warmth of the afterglow. Bucky’s vibranium arm was tenderly wrapped around you and he was still peppering kisses along your neck.

“Well,” he said quietly against your skin. “That settles it.”

“Hm?” you asked, lazily, your mind still clouded by your mind-blowing orgasm.

“You were right,” he explained with a smug smile. “There’s absolutely no chemistry between us.”

“Cocky bastard,” you muttered under your breath, hiding your smile in his neck.

You were roaming inside the kitchen, suddenly craving for your favorite brand of cookies. You were pretty sure there was one box left but you couldn’t get your hands on it. By now, the rest of the team had learnt not to steal your food, but you had still covered your cookie box in, ‘Don’t eat my cookies you fuckers’, ‘Y/N’s property, back off’, ‘I don’t know who you are, but if you eat my food, I will find you’, ‘Ask Tony for a raise if you can’t afford your own food’ and ‘Don’t you dare’ sticky notes. Reaching for the top cupboard, you pushed up onto your toes just to see that if was empty.

Well, not exactly empty. There was a sticky note. ‘Sorry doll, midnight munchies. BB’. Motherfucker. Why did he have to be so infuriating? In a fit of rage, you slammed the cupboard door and left the kitchen. This bastard was clearly making your blood pressure shot up beyond the safe limit. You rushed through the corridors, hammering the floor with your feet, and went to the elevator. First floor. Fourth floor. Hurry up, goddammit! Fifteenth floor. Finally. You charged out of the elevator like a water buffalo, directly to Bucky’s room. You didn’t even bother knocking before entering.

“What did we fucking say bout eat–” You stopped dead in your tracks, greeted by the sight of Bucky wearing nothing but his boxer-briefs. “Jesus fuck! Why the hell are you naked?”

“Well, last time I checked, I was in my room.”

“You could have warned me!”

“You kinda burst in here like a cannonball,” he laughed, not even trying to hide his partial nudity. “What am I supposed to do? Put a sock on the door or something?”

“A sock on the– Who does that?” you asked, dumbfounded, before you remembered what you were coming for. “Nevermind! I don’t care. You fucking ate my cookies! Again!”

“Your coo– Oh, you mean these?” he asked with a devilish smile on lips, grabbing the empty cookie box on his desk. “Were they yours?”

“You know damn well they were mine!” you nearly shouted, crossing the distance between the two of you to pull the box out of his hands, hitting him with it to punctuate each of your words. “It’s. Got. My. Name. All. Over. It!”

“Ouch! Why are you so mad?” he asked, laughing, as he threw your makeshift weapon away and pulled you gently into him. “Is it so important?”

“Yes, it is,” you whined, not even trying to fight his embrace. “I wanted cookies…”

“I’ll buy another cookie box, I promise,” he said, gently kissing your nose, but you were still pouting. “Okay, two more. Ten. Fifty. An entire truckload of cookie box just for you!”

“Yeah, just so you can eat everything as soon as my back is turned,” you accused him, hiding your smile and letting your hands roam his broad chest. “And that’s completely beside the point, because I’m hungry now!”

“You drive a hard bargain, doll,” he purred before pushing you gently onto his bed, covering you with that big, strong body of his, pinning you in place. “Let me makes this up to you.”

“Get off me, you cookie monster,” you growled, struggling helplessly.

Forbidden arousal tugged at your center as you remembered that night you had shared a few weeks ago. It had been your own hand that brought you to climax, but it had been Bucky’s dirty talk that had made that climax inevitable. You swallowed on a dry throat, your emotions ping-ponging wildly, moving too fast for you to identify them all. You hated the sensation of being trapped underneath him with nowhere to run, hated the fact that he was playing with you like a puppet. And yet, it was hard to deny the desire to find out what would come next.

“Trust me,” he murmured, and you didn’t know whether it was his words or his tone, but the shiver that ripped through you was equal parts excitement and fear.

Bucky’s weight shifted above you. He was smiling down at you, his baby blue eyes glowing faintly. Your breath came in shallow pants and your mouth was dry with desire. He lowered his head slowly, giving you time to push him away if you wished. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. You wanted to feel his lips on yours. A feeling of desperation rose through you and you kissed him deeply. You moaned into his mouth, and he responded with a soft grunt, his tongue exploring your mouth. Your hands, animated by their own will, slid against his torso.

His lips touched the skin of your neck, and it was like your body went up in flames. A decidedly unchaste moan escaped you, and you wrapped your arms around him, your hands buried in his gorgeous, silky hair. His lips were soft and warm, but there was nothing soft about his kiss, as if he was trying to eat you alive. If he had kissed you any harder, it would have left bruises. One of his hands went up your chest, his finger curling possessively around your breast, and his teeth suddenly closed around the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

He hadn’t really touch you yet, and you were already a moaning mess. You were pretty sure you could have stayed like this forever, forgetting the outside world existed, but he used his knee to nudge your legs apart, then settled between them. Even though he was still wearing his underwear, desire clouded your mind and you felt yourself arching against him. He pressed himself hard against you, eliciting a deep moan out of your lips, and your hips bucked against your will. You dress had ridden up and he was almost directly pressed against you. You wanted more. You hooked your fingers into his boxer-briefs.

“No,” Bucky whispered in your ear with a husky voice. “I won’t make love to you, doll. You’d regret it afterward, and that I cannot allow.”

“Why are you being– Such a tease?” you asked, fumbling with your words as he bit on your skin again.

“I can still take care of you,” he purred, squeezing your breast while doing so. “I can make you feel good. So good. I just need you to use your words.”

“Yes,” you pleaded, writhing under his touch. “Please…”

“Good girl,” he praised, his lips ghosting your skin.

You desperately wanted to rip off his underwear to feel him inside you, but you kept your hands buried in his hair to resist the temptation. His hips began to move, his cock stroking you beneath the thin layer of cloth. It shouldn’t have felt so amazing, not to a mature woman who had already had sex before, but there you were, writhing under him. Bucky was in full control and the sensations were almost too good to be true. Feeling him thrust against you, his cock hitting your clit just right with each stroke, had you on the verge of orgasm in no time.

You arched up against him, wanting to take that next step into bliss, but he slowed his pace and lightened his strokes, tormenting you and making you ache for release. You tried to hurry him along, your legs wrapped around his waist, but he would have none of it. And when you released his hair, meaning to hurry yourself along since he was not cooperating, you soon found your hands pinned above your head. He was in charge, and he was letting you know. You were too busy moaning out loud to find the force to protest.

He kept you hanging there, right on the brink of orgasm, for what felt like forever and a bit more. The anticipation tightened every muscle in your body, and every once in a while, you had to remind yourself to breathe. But it also felt so good to be on that brink, knowing with total certainty that he would eventually push you over and that it would be worth the wait. You almost didn’t want it to end, though it didn’t stop you from straining your body up toward him. You realized he was probably edging himself at the same time, and it fueled your desire.

“Tell me what you need, doll.”

“I need to come,” you moaned, fighting his grip on your wrists. “Please make me come.”

Just when you were beginning to think you couldn’t bear it for another moment, Bucky gave one last hard, perfect stroke, and the pleasure exploded through your body. You screamed something incoherent as your back arched and your toes curled, you heart threatening to hammer its way out of your chest. He kept trusting against you until he had milked every last spasm of pleasure he could out of you and you lay there completely limp and panting for breath. It was a while before coherent thought returned. When it did, you realized Bucky hadn’t come, still hard against you.

“You didn’t come,” you stated awkwardly as you felt heat creeping up your cheeks.

“I wanted it to be about you,” he said quietly, caressing tenderly your cheek. “My beautiful, beautiful, Y/N.”

“Stop it,” you said playfully, pushing his hand away, straddling him in one swift motion. “Don’t go sweet talking me!”

“Are you finally falling for my charm?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are we about to finally admit our feelings to each other?”

“You wish,” you answered, trying to pretend your heart didn’t climb the millions at his words and hoping the warm flush that had crept up your face would go unnoticed.

“Put me out of my misery, Y/N,” he whined dramatically.

“Put you out of your misery, right?” you asked, silently wishing he was being serious. “Let me do something for you then.”

“Y/N,” he whimpered, closing his eyes as you pulled his boxer-briefs down. “You don’t have to– Fuck…”

He gripped the sheets as you pulled his cock upright and wrapped your fingers around it. Anything else he might have said disappeared from his mind. All he could focus on was the feel of your hand on him. He'd wanted this for years, dreamt about it night after night, imagined it every time he stepped into the shower or laid back in his bed with his fingers sliding down his length. You stroked him, your grip loose around him as you moved from head to base. Bucky gritted his teeth, breathing heavily through his nose.

You slid your fingers up to the head of his cock and slid his foreskin up and down before gently dragging it back. He bit back a grunt when you trailed your thumb down the underside, brushing the sensitive part of his shaft. He tipped his head forward, watching your hand move, and you looked up at him. You met his eyes and smiled as you rose up a bit, free hand wrapped around the back of his neck to pull his head to you. You kissed him, tongue sliding over his with the same rhythm as your fingers on his cock. Bucky shuddered and jerked in your grip.

“Like that,” he muttered, his head crashing back down on the pillow as you circled the pad of one finger over the head of his cock. “There, just– There, fuck, like that. That's so good, doll. Just how I like it.”

Humming to yourself, you followed his whispered directions. Long glides, shorter pumps, firmer at the base and lighter near the head. He could feel his heartbeat in the shaft under your fingers, could see it in each throb as you stroked him. He stared at you, mouth open and panting for breath, as you leaned forward. You looked up through your lashes, eyes locked on his, and wet your lips. Flattening your tongue, you dragged it up the length of his cock, one long lick from root to tip. He grabbed the edge of the sofa and swore in a deep rumble.

Your hair swayed around your shoulders as you worked your tongue over him, around the ridge, across the head. You took your time, peppering kisses along his shaft, sucking on the head, before opening up and taking as much of him in as you could. Bucky clutched the sheets again and swore, groaning when he felt the back of your throat. Lashes fluttering, you pulled up quickly and focused on the head. Bucky watched you in awe, forcing himself not to buck up into your mouth each time you licked a bead of precum off his skin. He felt a tightening in his abdomen, core muscles tensing, and he put a shaking hand on the back of your head.

“I’m close," he mumbled. “Don't want– If you don't like–“

You shook your head. You stroked him again, watching his eyes. Faster, both hands around his length, pumping him in your fists. You kept your eyes on his face, never looking away from him. He felt his skin tingling, heard his heart thrumming in his ears. Without taking your eyes off his, you ducked your head and closed your lips around him, latching around the head of his cock as he came. Bucky's eyes snapped wide open in surprise and he groaned deep in his throat, unable to stop the short, quick thrusts between your lips. You held the tip in your mouth until the last spasm ended, then sucked gently as you pulled off.

“Fuck,” he moaned deeply. “You’re a little witch, you know that?”

“Hmmm,” you purred as you swallowed his cum, giving him a knowing smile. “Are you finally falling for my charm?”

“Yes,” he laughed, still out of breath. “A thousand times yes!”

“Stop fooling around, Barnes.”

For a brief moment, he seemed… Hurt? But in a blink of an eye, it was gone. Maybe– Maybe he had meant it. This thought caused you great distress until common sense came back to you. Of course, he didn’t mean it. You waited a bit more, but Bucky gave no reaction. After a few moments, he finally got up of the bed with a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose briefly. Next thing you knew, he was his normal self again, relaxed and smiling. He put back on his boxer-briefs and gave you a flirtatious wink when he caught you staring.

“Like what you see, uh?” he teased you, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “My dearest Y/N, just admit it already.”

“Shut it, punk,” you answered in a playful and gentle tone, unable to hide your smile. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten about the cookies you owe me.”

Every Friday was movie night. The room was a bit chilly, but the plaid cover thrown across your legs provided you some comfortable warmth. The rest of the team were off outside the building doing whatever it was that they preoccupied their time with. Well, not exactly all the rest of the team.

Bucky was sitting beside you on the couch, his body a second source of warmth that soaked into your pores and relaxed your clenched muscles. Your lips curled up in a tender smile, driven by a will of their own. It felt good, kind of domestic. And for once, you deserved to feel good, if only for a little while. You let your eyes slide shut, still smiling faintly. Bucky’s fingers traced over your face, caressing from forehead to chin and back again. You sighed and turned your face into the caress, your body relaxing even more.

His hand cupped your cheek, and he pushed you away a bit so he could look into your eyes, his gentle smile warming you in ways the plaid cover couldn’t. It was so easy to fall under his spell, to let yourself relax and open up in his presence. Something deep inside you longed to let go completely and to entrust yourself entirely to his care. You were tired of being always so vigilant and guarded. The idea was as tempting as it was scary, because you knew you could easily end up with a broken heart.

You started to pull away from him, confused by your own change of mood, but he just held tighter until you could barely move. His sensuous lips curved into a smile, but he didn’t say anything. Holding the back of your head, he bent his own head toward you.

“James,” you whispered, battling to say calm despite your racing heart.

“I love it when you say my name,” he whispered with a husky voice, his lips maybe an inch from yours. “I could get used to it.”

As he closed that final distance between the two of you, his lips touching yours, you felt a fire burning in your chest. You made an incoherent sound, half protest, half pleasure, as he feathered kisses over your lips. You wanted to tell him to stop, but when you opened your mouth to say the word, nothing came out. Your tried once more to squirm out of his grip, but your body refused to move. And though it seemed completely out of place, a bolt of affection shot through you. He took advantage of what he must have considered an invitation and slid his tongue into your mouth.

One of your hands slid along his chest while the other tugged at his hair almost desperately. His free arm sneaked around your waist as he tasted the inside of your mouth with gentle, delicate licks. A moan rose from your throat, and even you could hear the longing in that sound. You wanted to be his. You wanted him to be yours. It suddenly became obvious to you. Kissing him felt like abandoning a part of yourself in the process, and you were more than willing to do so. All you could think of was how your heart ached for him.

When Bucky’s tongue stroked yours more firmly, you felt like your body might melt with the pleasure of it. He tasted so good you thought you could never get enough; a bouquet of flavors you would never get tired of sampling. His lips were soft and moist, his body a reassuring cocoon of warmth surrounding you. Although you couldn’t miss his massive erection with his legs tangled with yours, he wasn’t trying to take this to the next level; you would have been more than willing. When he broke the kiss and released you, your first reaction was a mewl of protest.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, doll,” he growled, his voice hoarse with desire.

“I want you…”

“Falling in love, at last?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Yes,” you admitted in a small voice, your heart dropping into the depths of your already nervous stomach.

“My, my, you’re– Wait. You– What?” he stuttered, staring at your face wide-eyed.

“I love you,” you said, caressing his skin tenderly with shaking fingers. “I should– I should have said it before, but I was just scared. But now… Now, I’m not scared anymore. I– Do you–?”

All of a sudden, he grabbed you, hauled you up against his body and kissed you. Your resistance to that kiss lasted perhaps a total of ten milliseconds. When you gave in to it, you gave in with all your heart, wrapping your arms around his neck and clinging for all you were worth. It felt almost surreal to feel his body so close against yours.

When his tongue dipped into your mouth, you let out an uninhibited moan of pleasure. His hand cupped the side of your face, and the warmth of that touch melted some of the ice that had formed around your heart. You never wanted him to stop. While his lips were on yours, your mind went on vacation, wandering in the most amazing places. Instead of thinking all the time, you merely felt. His lips were soft and wet on yours, just like you liked them, and in that thought, your heart started beating staccato.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Bucky had more to say to you, so he broke the kiss long before you were ready. You made an incoherent sound of protest and tried to capture his lips again, but he put his hands on your shoulders to hold you off. He was breathing hard, and his eyes were dark with desire, but somehow, he found to willpower to stop. He lowered his head, resting his forehead against yours. There was no denying he was a treat to look at. Baby blue eyes framed by thick lashes, sun-kissed skin, muscles in all the right places. A dream came true.

“I love you,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “You have no idea how much I love you.”

“Show me…”

“You shouldn’t say things like that, doll,” he chuckled quietly. “I could take advantage.”

“Please,” you moaned. “I need you, James. I need–“

Once again, he interrupted you with a kiss and you abandoned yourself to his warm embrace, relishing his taste and smell. Fire burned through your veins and your heart hammered in your chest as you straddled him on the couch. With a moan, he shifted so you could feel his erection pressing firmly between your legs. Your hands moved with a will of their own, plucking open the buttons of his shirt and smoothing over the skin of his chest. Still kissing him as if your life depended on it, you found his nipples and tweaked them, making him moan and jerk beneath you.

He pushed your shirt and bra up until your breast were bared, not bothering to unbutton or unclasp anything. He just couldn’t wait to see you. Without any warning, he surged forward, seizing one of your nipples between his clever lips. It was your turn to moan, and your back arched without your conscious volition. His tongue rasped over the hardened bud, and he sucked just hard enough to be almost painful. Then he fastened his hands under your butt to lift you from the couch, eliciting a moan out of you.

He set you on your feet by the couch, then attacked your button-fly jeans. You took advantage of his moment of distraction to pull the shirt off over your head and lose the bra. You pushed his hands away before he has finished with the buttons, but his cry of protest died when you slid his shirt off his shoulders. You reached for his belt as he tackled the remaining buttons on your jeans. He got rid of his socks as you shoved his pants and boxer-briefs down his legs. You meant to go down on your knees and take him in your mouth, but he was too impatient to get to the main event.

He pushed you onto the couch, dragging your jeans and panties down, then cursing when everything got tangled around your ankles. He cursed some more and finally successfully freed your legs from the bundle of clothing, making you laugh in the process. You knew from personal experience that Bucky was usually a slow and gentle lover, loving the foreplay and the buildup as much or even more than the climax itself. Tonight, finally assured of your love, staring at your nude body for the first time, he was too desperate, too needy. But then again, so were you.

He fell on top of you, using his knee to shove your legs apart, and planted his lips on yours. The brush of his tongue was so incendiary that it felt like every nerve in your body spontaneously combusted. You wrapped your arms around his neck and clung, a greedy, whimpering sound rising from your throat. Taking a deep breathe to cool off, he pushed your hands out of the way, circling your wrists with his fingers and pinning them to the couch beside your head. He raised his head just enough to give him room to speak. You could easily see the mingled heat and determination in his eyes.

“You make me lose my mind,” he shuddered, planting a gentle kiss on your nose. “Keep your hands to yourself, let me take care of you.”

“I want to touch you too,” you begged, writhing under him.

“Behave, doll,” he warned, nipping at your lower lip, then soothing the sting with his tongue. “I’ll give you everything you want.”

You wanted to argue with him, but he plunged his tongue into your mouth, and the only sound you could make was a moan. As soon as you surrendered, he let go of your wrists, using one hand to draw maddening circles on the slope of your breast while his tongue tangled with yours. Instinct urged you to wrap your arms around him again, to hold him close to you and feel the warmth of his skin under your hands. You fought those instincts, kissing him back with every drop of your passion while you lay still beneath him. There was a raw hunger in his eyes and you shivered, not sure if it was because of anticipation or desire.

His head lowered and he trailed kisses down your throat. You had to curl your hands into fists to keep from running your fingers through his hair. As he worked his way down, those circles he had been drawing on your breast finally shrank until a single finger brushed your nipple, over and over. Your back arched again into that touch, but his hand move away far before you were ready. The good news was his mouth was moving steadily south. You didn’t completely understand the game he was playing until his mouth started circling your nipple.

He mimicked the pattern his fingers had made before, and his hand slid down past your navel. When you realized that his mouth was going to continue following the trail blazed by his fingers, you moaned loudly. You groaned when his fingers circled your clit, knowing that with just the tiniest hint more speed or pressure, you would have gone off like a rocket. But he knew how to read every nuance of your responses so he could keep you on that razor’s edge without pushing you over. Inside your chest, your heart was racing.

You took a certain savage satisfaction in the fact that once Bucky had made his way down to the juncture of your thighs, some of his inhuman control seemed to suddenly snap. Instead of teasing you mercilessly as he had with his fingers, his tongue took only a brief sample before he settled in to word in earnest. You were already on edge, and pleasure overrode every other thought and sensation until you almost forgot how to breathe. Your hips slightly raised as if seeking out his mouth in case he planned to leave, and he obediently sucked on your clit.

“Right there! Oh my god, James,” you cried, coming undone under his tongue with a loud and deep moan, finally gripping his hair as you thrust your hips against his mouth.

“Y/N, Y/N,” he moaned out loud, giving your pussy one last lick. “Tell me,” he panted, his lips curved into a smirk as he crawled back to you, kissing you on the mouth. “Tell me you’re mine,” he growled, letting you taste yourself of his tongue.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted against his lips. “I’m yours.”

You felt him nudge at your entrance. He moaned again in your kiss as he slowly sank into you, stretching at your walls. You were wet enough to let him bury himself in one thrust, and though it was a first for the both of you, it felt like coming home. You pulled his head down to yours, and he kissed you with all the pent-up tension of a man who has been separated from his true love for months. You drowned in the reality of him, in the natural fit of your bodies, in the dizzying rush of his desires, in the terrifying intensity of his love.

Emotions rioted within you, bumping into and tangling with each other so wildly that you couldn’t have named a single one of them. A trickle of sweat ran down the side of your face, but you barely felt it as your concentration narrowed and focused on the place where Bucky and you were joined. Every other sensation became inconsequential as you felt the tension building there, coiling tighter and tighter, until you thought you couldn’t stand on the edge of that cliff for another moment. When the coil finally released, you screamed. Dimly, you were aware of Bucky reaching his own release, his cry seeming but a shadow of yours.

He cuddled you in the aftermath, your head cradled against his chest, your legs intertwined, both of you panting desperately for air. One of his arms was wrapped around your waist in a solid, unbreakable grip. His chin rested on the top of your head. You inhaled deeply and caught the delicious sent of him. He felt so warm and strong against you that it sapped all your will. You could stay there forever and you knew he’d let you. He cupped gently your cheek in his hand, tilting your head up toward his. For a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you, but he didn’t.

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you,” he whispered, kissing your forehead tenderly. “You’re too good for me. Almost too good to be true.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you chuckled playfully.

Thank you for reading! 💕 Like my work? Please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fluff #marvel smut

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maruzzewrites · 7 months

Text

love like you've been hurt.

Astarion reflects upon his growing feelings for Tav/Reader. cw: blood drinking, wrist biting, intrusive thoughts.

“If you need it, you just have to ask.”

A splendid, convenient offer to Astarion. When he was first given the opportunity to drink from their neck, he remembers thinking quick and immediate that the poor fool would be easy to manipulate. If one offers something as precious as their blood to the man who pointed a knife to their throat, before, and tried to sneakily have a bite, after, there is little Astarion can do before taking advantage.

He still remembers the sensation of the skin breaking under the pressure of his sharp fangs, the blood flowing warm and viscous under his lips as he started so suck, lick, and enjoy the flood of life surging all over his body. The blood of an intelligent creature nourishes like nothing else, he learned that night.

In his enjoyment, though, he noticed how they stayed put despite the pain. There were shivers, there was motion, but they never said to stop. It would be so easy to bite off part of their throat and feast on that delicious blood, but Astarion knew that letting that river of good will dry before he could get more wasn’t the most smart of options.

So, that night, he stopped. He thanked. And he promised to feed on animals unless he was offered again.

And he has been, offered again he means.

Once, he even asked to their so-generous traveling companion why they were so invested in feeding him and how they chose the days. It was mostly a provocation, maybe a way to make them admit to some hidden erotic fantasy that could be his in for his usual manipulation, but they looked at him. They thought for a second, then they simply answered, “When you look a bit weaker.”

That was it, if one had to believe their words. The entire reason for their generosity was something as banal as the person traveling with them, the vampire spawn that was about to bite them in their sleep, was looking a bit weaker and they needed food.

Not even asked. There was always the option to let him continue his animal diet, but they went out of their way, every few nights or so, to offer their neck once more. At first, it was convenient and simply a gesture of a fool that Astarion didn’t mind putting to good use. It betrayed a weak will, in his mind, because there was simply no other reason to let a dangerous predator to take a bite from a lamb and hope it won’t get addicted to the taste.

Eventually, Astarion found his in. They slept together, as he assumed someone like them would.

They detected something off, though. Astarion, perhaps naively, never thought that would be possible. Not with the mask he perfected in two centuries of life. He was sure it was nothing though, and he waved away the thought and the worry by answering their questions with his usual charm. He couldn’t allow himself to show how nude he felt when that mask would slip, because that would imply the kind of vulnerability he wasn’t afforded since he was still alive.

So the night passed.

So this specific night comes.

They offer again. And Astarion cannot wait for the moon to rise and the stars to shine, for the fire to crack besides them as his companion will go to sleep and he can again sink his teeth into tender, alive flesh.

“Darling, you will spoil me rotten like this.” He chuckles at his own words, makes sure to drag his vowels with the usual catty inclination he is used to take with people he needs to seduce. They shake their head, but the faint smile on their face sends a signal to his brain he cannot quite explain. It’s not quite that his heart flutters, but he wishes to see that same face again soon.

It’s an odd sentiment for someone like him, who cannot afford it. It’s a pesky little thing, that will pass, and it’s only because they have been so naively kind to someone like him. Someone who could tear their throat apart with a single swipe of fangs, or perhaps his claws could take hold of their delicate neck and open a passage from which blood could flow freely. But he doesn’t need it, he doesn’t want to think about it that way.

He cannot let the monster inside of him win. He will take what’s enough for his survival and cultivate this relationship for his own gain.

He awaits the night as they travel. The Coast is filled with the unknown and the wonders he has never seen since he has been secluded into a caged life, but he cares not to help those who are not useful to his quest. They, instead, are generous not only with him, but with anyone in need. It’s irritating at times, but he must bite his tongue and put a brave face on so that same kindness won’t be denied to him.

Finally, night falls. The camp is quickly set and everyone tends to their own personal wounds, or they converse among each other, some even argue about useless things. At times he feels like this camp life lacks the spunk it had, like when Shadowheart and Lae’zel almost fought, but he isn’t one to be involved so much that he wants to cause trouble.

He is lucky enough the others didn’t demand his head on a silver plate when his true nature was revealed.

Even they are busy with talking, sitting down by the campfire and entertaining Gale as he babbles about something related to the Weave or magic, as he usually does. There is a lazy, tired kind of smile of their face as they listen on, and Astarion finds himself wishing again to be able to see it more often. It’s not even the desire to be the one to cause it, but just the wish to see them content and unbothered by the chaotic mess their life has become.

It's a thought that lingers even after, for hours until everyone decides to lay down for the night and they are there, leg raised as they watch the sky. Everyone else is fast asleep, but they stay up more than usual. Astarion isn’t sure if they remember the promise, but he waits silently by his tent.

At some point, they close their eyes. He waits a few seconds, until their breath seems to even out, and he sneaks out, slowly. From that night, he has swore to be as silent as a church mouse when he is to drink their blood, and he is sure to keep that promise so that he could stay on their good side. He is cautious to make just the smallest amount of noise as he approaches, but their eyes shoot open anyway and they turn their head to look at him.

He is sure he will be scolded or told he is noisy. But they simply shrug, still laying down, and whisper a simple, “Can’t sleep tonight.”

It such a straightforward answer to a question never posed, but they raise an arm towards him in offering. The other hand come to uncover their wrist, and they speak again, “You can drink from my wrist.”

So they didn’t forget at all. Astarion accepts with a sarcastic, “Don’t mind if I do.”

He comes closer, kneels down near their body and they, at the same time, sit up so they will be at the same height. Less awkward, Astarion agrees, but he can’t help the joke, “You looked so pretty on your back, darling.”

They frown, but here again that small smile that guarantees him there is nothing wrong with what he is saying. They won’t push him away or punish him for a word too much, and maybe that was it all along. Maybe Astarion’s defenses are coming down because there is nothing to fear from someone who is showing their neck to you.

Quite literally too.

Satisfied with that explanation, he takes the arm he is offered in his hands, rests a barely-there kiss on the wrist and lets his fangs grow in size as they sink down. Blood rushes to his mouth, wetting his lips and pooling on his tongue, as he drinks up the rusty flavor with his usual abandonment.

Strangely enough, it’s not the feeling of being sated that joins the hunger tonight. He feels a strange rush of compassion, of tension and just a sprinkle of adrenaline as he continues to suck the blood out of the minute veins in their wrist.

He wonders if this is normal. If blood is supposed to give emotions like this when it comes from someone you have more connection with. What could it be, if they were even closer?

There is a small amount of panic inside his chest, but he cannot stop the thoughts of how sweet and tasty it could be to lure someone and drink up their blood after making them hope for something deeper, after developing feelings and betraying them. Even stepping on his own heart would be worth it.

He stops himself just in time, as he feels his jaw clenching down.

He does his best not to let them see how worked up he is in this exact moment. He knows they would freak out, they would see what he truly is and realize that this whole ordeal isn’t convenient for them. He simply can’t have that, both because he doesn’t mind having someone offering blood and because he doesn’t want to lose their support. The only person whose smile, besides his own, he wants to protect, and he is so close to hurt his chances to even be close to them.

But they don’t freak out. Not in the way Astarion thought. They look down at their wrist, at the blood still falling from the two even, small injuries that dig into their flesh, and then they look at him. With their other hand, they reach out and let the tip of their fingers rest on his cheek, without cupping it completely.

It’s a delicate, intimate gesture. The closest Astarion ever felt to someone, and they are barely touching. They blink and ask, “Are you okay? Do you need a bit more?”

Days ago, Astarion would have grinned and took them up to that offer. Tonight, Astarion truly feels his heart flutter and wants to see them smile up at him, and he doesn’t care that they’re kind to everyone, until they are to him too. Until he is included in that generosity.

“No, thank you. I think I will go rest.”

They blink again. Then, they shrug again and the smile arrives. Small, tired, and the last thing Astarion wants to remember of that night.

#bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav

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rafetopia · 5 months

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𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧

- 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

pairing: businessman!rafe cameron x fem!businesswoman!reader

genre: smut -> 18+!!

words: ~3.6k

warnings: use of a sex toy in public, rafe & reader switch dynamics, (potentially) exposing someone naked to the public?, swearing, being blindfolded and handcuffed, choking, name calling, unprotected p in v

summary: after an attempt of ruining your chance to convince a room full of rich investors goes horrible wrong, rafe has to deal with the consequences

note: this is a repost from my old blog (dreamingwithrafe)

“Rafe…” You moaned as his tongue made its way down your neck. “I have to practice this again…”

“Hmmm.” He hummed, as he softly mobbed on your earlobe, knowing just how much you loved that. “Then go…” He continued as his hands traveled under your skirt, landing in your already soaked panties.

“I…” You whispered, trying to find the right words, but all you could think about were his hands under your skirt. “I really should…”

“I said, then go.” He whispered, his hands now slipping under your panties, tracing circles around your clit.

“Hmmm you are so evil.” You mourned.

You knew exactly why he did what he did, why he showed up 15 minutes before your presentation, swinging you onto your desk the second he waltzed into your office. He knew how much it would distract you, after all he couldn’t have you being better than him.

“And you love it don’t you?” He smirked against your neck as he let his fingers slide into you, causing a quiet but sweet moan to escape your lips. “I knew it.”

“Just… Just be quick.”

His fingertips were tracing slow circles over your clit, making you want to rip away your clothes and underwear so his fingers and your skin wouldn’t be separated by something as banal as fabric. “Hmm, we’ll see about that. Brought a little surprise for you.” He grinned devilishly, as he reached into his pocket. You wanted to see what it was but quickly pushed your chin up so you couldn’t look. “Nuh- uh, princess, I said surprise didn’t I?”

His mouth went back on your neck but now moving up, towards your ear, knowing that once he got there he’d have you completely.

“Now, open up your pants and close your eyes for me, would you, princess?”

You did as you were told but something inside of you told you, that maybe you shouldn’t have. Your gut was proven right once you felt cold material sliding down your entrance, followed by his fingertips, making sure that everything fit as it should. You were about to open your mouth and protest when he pulled out his finger and softly pressed it against your lips. “Shhht.” He whispered, before he continued, “Now be a good girl and suck.”

He slid his finger into your mouth and you did as you were told, sucking up every bit of your juice on his fingertips. “Good.” He hummed. “Now lean back and relax.” He smirked playfully. He then pulled your pants down and got down on his knees, ready to send you to heaven before you had to convince a room full of white middle aged men why it was an amazing idea to supply the middle east with solar energy.

He was about to eat away all your sorrows when someone knocked on the door. “Miss (Y/LN), it’s time, they’re ready for you now.” A friendly female voice said.

“Shit.” You spat out, as quiet as possible, hoping the woman on the other side of the door didn’t hear you. “I’m coming, gimme two minutes.”

You pushed Rafe away from you and quickly jumped up from the desk.

“What, you don’t think I could’ve finished you in two minutes?” He asked, disappointment flickering through his voice.

You ignored him, while you pulled up your pants as quickly as possible before taking your phone and fixing your hair.

“Rafe have you seen my hairbrush? Black, small little thingy with spikes on it?”

“Y/N Don’t you think I know what a hairbrush looks like?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “I think It fell under the table when I pushed you on it.” He bent down and looked under the table himself, knowing you wouldn’t listen to him anyways.

He got back up and handed you your object of desire. “Told you.”

You gave him a smile and quickly started fixing the mess on your head while he poured you a glass of water. “Now drink this, baby. You need to hydrate.” You nodded and emptied the glass immediately. “Now remember, you and your dad have been working on this for over two years now, you got this.”

“Would you stop with all the smothering, Cameron? I’m not nervous.” You smirked. “You can stop pretending like this wasn’t part of your plan”

“What plan sweetheart?”

“Oh shut up, you know exactly what I mean.”

He stepped forward until he was only inches away from you. The smell of his cologne intoxicated your senses, almost making it hard for you to concentrate.

“I don’t need a plan, babygirl, we all know they are going to choose “Cameron Development”, they always do.” He grinned devilishly. “No go out there princess, you don’t want to be late, now do you?”

You stared back into his eyes, not breaking eye contact for one second. “We will see about that.” You smiled, before you grabbed your back and left the office.

Rafe stayed back for a second, looking around for the toy he put inside you but the moment he realized, you never put it out it was already too late. He closed the door behind him, with the biggest smirk the world had ever seen.

The room was already full of investors and potential business partners you were supposed to convince. They were still talking and laughing, not paying any attention to you which gave you room and time to set up your laptop. You would lie if you’d say you weren’t at least a little bit nervous but you tried your best to hide it. You had been working towards this moment for many months now, sure originally to present with your father but since he had an emergency meeting in california you had to do it alone now.

You took one last sip from the water bottle hanging out of your bag before gathering your cards and waiting for the crowd to get quiet. They noticed that you were ready and just before you were about to open your mouth, the door in the back to the meeting room opened.

The moment your eyes met his, you were met with a grin on his face, so wide you were sure his mouth was touching his ears. It was then, when you realized, you fucked up.

You wanted to walk out of the door to take it out but Anna, your assistant shook her head, signaling it was too late for that.

You shot Rafe a warning glare, telling him that if he tried anything there would be consequences but deep down you knew he didn’t care. He owned you now and for the duration of this presentation, you were at his mercy and his mercy only.

Your fears quickly became reality a few minutes after your introduction. You were about to introduce the bigger concept of your project when you felt a sudden vibration between your folds. You tried to hide your surprise but it was almost impossible no one noticed. You saw the smirk on his face, knowing that he wouldn’t stop there, that he’d probably keep going and going until you reached your breaking point, until you messed up and broke down in front of all those people.

But Rafe clearly seemed to underestimate you. You had incredibly good focus if you wanted to and you prepared yourself for months. So you set your focus back to the presentation, completely ignoring the vibration between your legs. It wasn’t easy, sure but it was doable until Rafe went up a level. Even though you were good at what you were doing, you also mustn’t underestimate him.

Fine. You thought to yourself. You wanna play? Game on.

You put all your senses together and pushed through. You still had a lot to go through but you were sure, if you would just focus enough, you would be able to push through. Not with Rafe Cameron though.

He saw how you tried to fight him and it only encouraged him more. He knew it wasn’t fair of him to do this, but Rafe Cameron never played fair. The truth was, he never stood a chance against you. It was the way you presented yourself, the way you held yourself, the way you spoke, your beautiful chuckle when you misspoke or casually built in a joke to make the investors laugh.

He saw the way you looked at him, everytime they laughed or someone asked you an interesting question which you answered perfectly. You challenged him, as if you almost wanted him to go on, as if you wanted to prove something to him. So he did. He went up another level, just to see if you could handle it. And you could. You felt the vibration traveling through your body, almost making it impossible for you to keep standing but you put on your poker face and pushed through. And again and again.

You told them about the importance of your project, about the necessity of solar panels in the middle east and why your company would be the perfect fit for the project. You baffled them away with your knowledge, your presentation and your smile. Everything was perfect, you were perfect and he couldn’t have that.

He hated every single word that came through your mouth, everytime you smiled he could feel his blood boiling because he knew. He knew that he couldn’t distract you, he knew he didn’t stand a single chance against you, you were just too good.

So he went up to the maximum level and he didn’t just change the intensity, he also changed the rhythm to something that made it way harder for you to concentrate. You let out a loud whimper, causing everyone in the room to look up at you. You looked at Rafe, who sat there with a wide and evil grin, waiting for you what to do next. He expected you to become red and lose your rhythm but you didn't. Instead, you looked him right in the eyes and smiled.

“Sorry, gentlemen, cramps are really bad today.”

They smiled at you, some more uncomfortable than others but they believed you. Rafes gaze darkened, if you were closer to him, you were sure you would have heard his pulse rising to the maximum. His face turned red, he tried to hide it but he knew there was absolutely nothing he could do now. You won.

That didn’t stop him from trying to make it as hard for you as possible though. You managed through but it wasn’t exactly easy. You smiled at the round of applause you got, and answered all the questions asked. You expected Rafe to raise a hand but he didn’t. He sat there for a while, just staring at you before he stood up and stormed out of the room.

While you finished everything up, he wandered through the hallways, trying to think about what to do next. He found himself in the bathroom, bracing his arms on the sink as he tried to calm down and gather himself. He turned on the water tap and took a deep breath as he buried his face in the pool of cold water that he had gathered in his hands. Washing his face with cold water, had always helped him calm down again, when he felt his anger taking over. It was actually something that you had shown him once, after you found him at the island club, screaming into his phone because his dad threatened to cut him off once again.

He gathered his thoughts and walked back into the hallway where he quickly spotted you, shaking hands with one of the investors. He hid behind the nearest corner he could find, trying to eavesdrop on what you were saying but all he could hear was the sweet sound of your laugh, followed by an even sweeter “thank you Mr. Bass”. He then heard your heels clicking on the floor, becoming louder and louder with every step you took and before he knew it, he had pulled you behind the corner, pressed against the wall with his hand on your mouth.

He felt you smirking under his skin, only strengthening the feeling of stone cold rage that shot through his body.

“What’s wrong baby?” You asked, mockingly after you took his hand and removed it from your mouth. “You don’t look so happy.” He didn't say anything, his thoughts clouding his mind, making him unable to form any words. You noticed it, only amusing you even more. “What? Are you mad because your little plan didn’t work out?” You laughed, “Don’t worry baby, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

His dark gaze burned right through you, making it hard for you to keep eye contact but you pulled through. This was a game that he started and there was no way in hell you would let him get away just like that. But Rafe didn’t plan on going, no. He was angry, oh so angry and that anger needed to go somewhere and before he knew it, his hand was wrapped around your throat, causing you to gasp for air. But you weren’t scared, you thought it was cute how easy it was for you to provoke him like that, how easy it was for you to control him. He tightened his grip but it only caused you to smile even more.

You had trouble breathing and even though you weren’t particularly scared, your heartbeat told a different kind of story. He looked at you, his eyes traveling from your eyes down to your lips and back up again, as if he was debating on what to do next.

“Come with me.” He pressed through his clenched jaw, as he let go of your throat. His hand quickly grabbed your wrist as he pulled you into the utility room next to the elevator. Before you knew it he had spun you around, his hand pressing you back against the door as he smashed his lips on yours.

The kiss was filled with passion and rage, the combo you loved most on Rafe. It made him rougher and faster in his actions, something that made your knees weak by the simple thought of it. Your hands traveled down his crotch where you were met with his already hardened erection. You felt him flinch under your touch followed by a soft moan escaping his lips. He swung you around again, trying to push you on the table behind him but you were quick to stop him.

“Uh Uh, baby boy.” You smirked. “You think I’m going to let you take the lead on this after what you just tried to do to me? We are going to play, but on my terms, with my rules. Do you understand?” You asked, waiting for an answer but were met with nothing but silence.

You smiled, as your hands traveled through his hair, pulling it back so he would have to look at you. “Do you understand?” You asked again, with an angrier tone this time.

“Yes. Yes ma’am.” He whispered, almost sounding intimidated.

“Good.” You smiled, “Now sit.” You signaled to the chair next to you and he did as told. “Now close your eyes for me, pretty boy.” You whispered into his ear as you got behind him. You leaned over his shoulder and removed his tie, while planting soft kisses on his neck, causing him to let out soft moans. You then used it to tie his eyes, leaving him completely vulnerable in front of you. You smiled at the sight of it, before walking around the chair to face him again. You kneed in front of him and opened his belt, while he leaned back into the seat. You gently pushed the material of his pants over his legs and then did the same with his boxer, until he was exposed completely.

“What are you going to do to me?” He asked quietly. His voice was steady but you could hear the nervousness peaking through his words.

“Shht, relax baby, no need to get nervous.” You answered, softly but he knew she shouldn’t listen to you. After all, the two of you had been playing this game for a while now and he knew that he took it too far this time.

You slid your left hand into his, as your right one brought his dick into your mouth. He gasped at the sudden contact and let his head fall back into his seat. You let your tongue slide over his tip, saliva building up as you tasted the salty drop of precum on your tongue. You slowly started sucking, pushing him in further and further with each movement until you swallowed him whole. Rafe tried to hide his moans, not wanting you to know how much he enjoyed this but you knew better. You felt his dick twitching around in your mouth, signaling you that he was close and just when he was about to release himself, you slowed down, almost stopping. He wanted to protest but you quickly put your finger on his lips, signaling him to keep quiet.

You then went on again, but this time you circled your tongue around his length, never pulling him in completely. His breathing got faster with every time your tongue slid over him, and you felt his nails burying themselves into your hands, almost causing you to flinch in pain.

“Please (Y/N)...” He whimpered. “I…”

“Mhh, speak up, pretty boy, what do you want?”

“Please ride me…” He whispered, clearly trying to suppress another moan.

“I might.” You chuckled, “But you better be loud or I stop. Need everyone to know what a needy boy you are for me baby.”

He gave you an eager nod, before pulling you closer to him. His hands landed perfectly around your waist, very impressive, considering that he was still blindfolded. You quickly got rid of your panties and climbed on top of him, letting him slide into you in one motion. You both gasped at the sudden contact, as your walls wrapped up around him, hugging him tightly, as if they never wanted him to leave again. “That’s it, baby boy, just like that.” You whispered into his ear, as he let out soft moans with every movement you made.

You started slow and steady, wanting to feel every inch of him as deep as possible. Rafe’s hands slowly traveled from your waist down to your cheeks, supporting your movements. You felt his fingers dig deeper into you every second, a sign that he enjoyed what you were doing. You bent down and started kissing his neck, leaving marks all over his skin, for everyone to see. You wanted everyone to know who he’d belong to, especially those greedy interns from “Trenton Investments” that somehow earned themselves a spot in his audience. The more you worked on his neck, the more you felt his pulse under his skin fasten, as you worked him closer and closer towards his orgasm. You moved your kisses from his neck, back to his lips where you let your tongue dance around his mouth. He tried fighting for dominance and for a split second you even let him. He was distracted, his whole attention only belonging to you. He started using his right index finger to massage your clit, while you sped up your movements. The both of you moaned out in sync, as he dedicated his whole attention to your mouth and clit. He was concentrated, so concentrated that he didn’t notice your left hand grabbing towards your bag to your left.

Having no vision was only to his advantage, as he listened closer and closer to your breathing, bringing not only himself but also you closer and closer to the edge. He got more and more confident the more time passed and the louder your moans got, and you had never been the quiet type.

“That’s right, pretty boy, just like that!” You screamed, as you let your head fall back into your neck. You felt his dick twitching between your walls, as your screams got louder and louder. They were music to his ears, such pretty sounds when you screamed his name, so pretty that he almost missed the *click* sound, followed by a cold and tight feeling of metal wrapped around his wrist.

“What the fuck…” He whispered, as your movements stopped suddenly, just when the both of you were about to finish. “What are you doing?”

You climbed down from him, almost laughing at the sight in front of you. There he was, the oh so powerful Rafe Cameron, Chief Project Manager for Cameron Development, naked from the waist down, blindfolded and tied to a chair. How adorable.

You got dressed, fixed your hair and gathered your things before you walked up to him one last time. You bent down and placed a soft kiss on his lips before leaning to his ear.

“You picked the wrong girl to play this game with, Cameron. Good luck.” You whispered, smirking. You even lifted the tie, so he would at least be able to see that you put the key on the table right next to him, just far enough for him to be out of reach but close enough for him to see.

“What the fuck, you can’t leave me here like this!” He yelled, “Come back!” He paused, as he tried to get himself free. “(Y/L/N) you fucking bitch get back here or you will regret this! I swear to god, you will regret this!”

You then turned around smiling and left the room, leaving Rafe Cameron at the mercy of the poor soul that would walk into the room next.

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please note that i was stupid and deleted my old tag list from my old blog (dreamingwithrafe) so if you already added yourself to that one and you wanna get tagged again, please fill out my new form 🥺🤍

#jas writes ❥#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #outer banks smut #outer banks fanfiction

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kayunivy · 11 days

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The reason I'm so disappointed with the movie 27 isn't because of the ship! I love kaishin very much but I was always aware that it would never be canon and that was never a real problem. What bothers me about this story is that making these two cousins is forced and breaks several moments and even lines from Gosho himself.

I'll be as brief as possible because I don't want to saturate this topic any longer. It saddens me to see people saying it was something obvious all this time but when you ask why it's always the same argument: they look alike. If it were any other anime this could actually be a clue, but we're talking about an anime everyone looks alike, so it's ridiculous to have just this argument as a basis. In old interviews Gosho when asked about the "similarity" of the kaishin, he said things like wanting to make the shinran a parallel to the kaiao and also said that the kaishin were connected by a strange bond, which was different from any other... I don't think that the bond between cousins is something very different, is actually a pathetic cliché.

Long before this film was even announced, I had already noticed Gosho's disregard for the work and I was afraid that this film would confirm my suspicions (which ended up happening). Detective Conan is currently not as good as he used to be, because Gosho seems to no longer care about the direction of the story, he will only do what pleases the majority of the fandom and thus make money. One of the biggest evidences is the "development" of the main couple, which is horrible, boring and repetitive. It's been 30 years of manga and things are still the same, it's frustrating.

My anger comes from the fact that the more you REALLY look into this cousin kaishin fact, the more forced it seems. I liked Kaishin's unrelated relationship because it was something very unique, now it has become a banal business. I've seen some people saying that now Kaito can reveal his identity to Shinichi and so they can have moments together, which might be good in a way but it would also be so forced and would only prove more and more that Kaito's parents are disgusting.

I ended up saying more than I wanted to, so I'll stop here. At least I hope Kaito (Shinichi too) is really happy by the end of this story...

#just me rambling #dcmk #kaishin #magic kaito #kaito kuroba #kaitou kid #detco #detective conan #meitantei conan #conan edogawa #gosho aoyama #shinichi kudo

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thesamoanqueen · 4 months

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Hold me

Warnings: 16+

A/N: finally joining the seven paragraph thursday challenge, tagged by @dreamsinfocus @joannasteez. Its just one shot about my kink hope y'all like it, addio~

It was the way they caressed her neck, insinuating themselves between curls, gently rubbing that portion of caramel skin behind her ear until their movement and his breathing lulled her to sleep. They held and protected her, as if wanting to prevent someone from stealing her during the night, taking her away, away from the warmth and security that only them, only him, could give. They were an almost childish reassurance, simple and good in the true, profound essence of that word, there to cherish and love her in the most banal and undervalued gesture a human being could have made. A certainty that was never missing, unexpected, always, everywhere, requests or not.

It was the feeling of them on the small of her back, to guide, not force, accompanying her through any moment, letting her know that he was there, behind her, covering and supporting when she could find a way herself. It was seeing them open doors, move obstacles, take anything before her mouth could even bother to ask, to offer, serve and provide. Almost bodyless, ghosts in her peripheral vision, supporting actors who in her mind had stolen the prize from whatever great broken promise every nobody shouted before in her face.

It was the strength they showed by keeping her upright when she bent like a tightrope walker on her heels, acting as her anchor and then softening as soon as her strength returned. The ardor with which they held her soft hips, encouraging the obscene movement of her body in the ecstasy of pleasure, the dangerous, frightening possession with which they tightened around her throat, suffocating moans, grabbing, slapping, claiming every portion inside her wet folds and even outside. The heat, crave, with which they burned on her skin, between her lips, on her thighs wrapped around his solid body, against her chest shaken by tremors and prayers. Rough, arrogant, confident and hungry.

And the imaginary circles they drew on that bare finger, the one he always kissed with persistence, commitment, not one by chance, that one, without explanations because they didn’t need them. And she had pretended to don’t understand, not to see, to ignore, keep her feet on the solid ground and reality, but sometimes they pulled her up physically, like a little dreamy girl, like something more special, promising and she ended up looking for them as air in her lungs. No shadow of the past could stand a chance against those fingers, those hands that she had fallen madly in love with.

Them and not just them, she admitted at least to herself, because in her own words she couldn't - not yet - but she hoped to make up for that lack with the same tenacity that those fingers showed in keeping her anchored there, with him.

- You're stuck with me...- she heard Roman laugh, forcing her to raise her head, moving away her dark eyes from their irremediably linked hands, tearing a dangerous, uncontrollable smile from her lips that he ended up miming too.

- God help you - and his grip got tighter, holding her there in that lovely trap, always.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @reignsangel444 @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @love-islike-abomb @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @reignsx @reigns-central-blog @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @thedonsfactory @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @joannasteez @2baddies2furious @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @usosthetics @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @blkbutterfly816 @spritelucozade

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns oneshot #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x you #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x female reader #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic

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smuttysabina · 11 months

Text

Motherhood, with Jihyo

(Male Reader x Jihyo, 1900 words) Pregnancy, pregnant sex, milk, creampies, Mommy fetish, motherhood.

Jihyo has always been a "Mommy". Her voluptuous curves, her stern yet nurturing nature, her kindly face, her charismatic domination, her enormous breasts; all of these factors helped to define Jihyo's maternal inclinations. But after getting impregnated by Once, these inclinations have blossomed into something that transcends common motherhood. Jihyo is no longer simply a Mommy, she is The Mommy of Idols, the undisputed matriarch of breeding and love. Along with a boost to her charisma, pregnancy has bestowed upon her physical gifts as well. Her already capacious breasts have swollen even larger to accommodate the milk being produced within them. Her toned body has been sheathed in a fresh layer of flesh to fuel the new life within her, rounding out her curves in a most attractive manner. And of course, her toned belly has swollen outwards, bulging from beneath her breasts as it nurtures the child within her. Taken all together, Jihyo now resembles an ancient fertility goddess, benevolent and beautiful, filled with desire and love...

Like all idols, Jihyo has a depthless sex drive, a gaping abyss of desire fueled by the constant acclimation she receives. Unlike many of her ilk though, Jihyo effectively channels her lust into her ambitions and beliefs, making her a superb leader in dance and song as well as in ah, breeding. Like all idols, Jihyo's natural instincts and fetishes have been blown all out of proportion by her condition; resulting in a perverse affection towards impregnation. Due to the more, benign direction of her sensuality, it is rarely noticeable aside from an implacable insistence on creampies. Jihyo is not a whore-goddess like Jennie, indifferent atop a mountain of drained fans as she mechanically fucks them into unconsciousness. This restraint has kept her fellow members of Twice in check as well, if their leader is not visibly outrageous in slaking her lusts on stage, how can they be? Not that Twice is not riven with degenerate fetishes, merely that they keep them more subdued far better than other groups.

So it is a crisis then, that as Jihyo's belly swells ever larger, so does her sexual appetites. Her pregnancy has driven her nearly mad with lust, and it is all Twice can do to keep their beloved leader from doing something... drastic. And no, getting bred on live tv by nearly a thousand fans is nothing to get excited about; its positively banal compared to Rose pegging a government official during her speech before the public. Thus, Twice feed an ever growing river of fans into Jihyo's room, desperately throwing bodies at the problem in the hope that she will be satisfied until birth. All the while though, they worry about their own condition, soon all of them will follow suit and get knocked up by Once. And when that happens, Twice will become insatiable... but perhaps Jihyo will discover a solution to the coming cataclysm. The girls can only hope that their leader will save them once more; but until then, Jihyo continues to fuck with all the virility of a young mother.

An atmosphere of panic fills the Twice suites, staff hurrying everywhere, the girls directing the chaos with barely restrained hysteria; Jihyo has awaken from her slumber and requires... entertainment. All around you a febrile stir of lust passes through the fans gathered for today's session, all of you keen to experience Jihyo's motherly love. Through the grace of God (Jihyo), you have managed to secure a place at the front of the line, and are more than a little excited to make love to her unsullied sex. Jihyo's bedroom door suddenly slams open and Chaeyoung staggers out, her cheeks ballooning as she hurries over to a potted plant were she noisily voids her stomach. Nayeon and Momo rush over to comfort her, and from what you can hear Chae was forced to gorge upon her leader's pussy, drowning in her squirt and turgid cum until her stomach was filled to bursting. Momo courageously flings herself through the door to buy her compatriots time to organize the fans into proper order for upcoming gangbang. Nayeon dashes to you, dragging you towards the bedroom with unseemly haste, her eyes wide with terror as she gabbles unclear instructions. Then you are practically flung through the doorway, and finally encounter her.

Jihyo is radiant, everything you could possibly dream of. Her breasts hang heavy over her swollen belly, her thick nipples dark and erect, her thighs curve seductively to support a staggeringly large ass. Every inch of her is sheened with sweat and oil, accentuating her beautiful skin and giving her a softly radiant glow. A dark, tangled path of hair shrouds her pussy, already soaked through with heady juices. Even the scent of her is enough to send your reproductive system into overdrive, your hind-brain blaring at you that the woman before you is fertile. Jihyo wears a sweet, welcoming smile with ease, wordlessly inviting you to spend your virile seed inside of her again and again until you are drained... As you move to embrace Jihyo, your eyes flicker to the side of the bed, where Momo sprawls; ass in the air, a truly gargantuan dildo juddering in her pussy. As she hugs you tightly, Jihyo discretely tosses her blanket over her fellow Twice member; there's no need to worry about Momo, just focus on Mommy...

Your tongue wrestles with Jihyo's as she slowly maneuvers you towards the bed, caressing her inflated belly and groping her hefty breasts. With a sudden bump, she collapses backwards onto the bed, already opening her legs wide in anticipation of your rigid manhood. Faced with such an alluring proposition, you don't bother with any more foreplay, and simply plunge yourself into her. Jihyo's pussy is soaking wet. Her slick, sticky juices tenaciously cling to your cock, providing you with euphoric lubrication as you fuck her. Any idol can get wet, but Jihyo is positively dripping all over your cock, smearing your balls with her creamy fluids, thrilling your cock with exotic sensations. Motherhood truly becomes of her, so it is only natural that you moan her true vocation to her as you fuck her. Jihyo herself gasps with pleasure as her pussy devours your cock, reveling in pleasure as your hands grasp her swollen belly for leverage. The sloshing noises reach a crescendo as you increase your pace before orgasm, before subsiding to slow loud meaty slaps as you climax. Both you and Jihyo groan as your thick seed spews into her, coating her pussy in another layer of murky cream.

It seems a profane disservice to pull out of Jihyo, but at her urging you allow your cock to feel the cold kiss of the bedroom's air once more. But your dick is not kept cool for long; rolling onto her side to support her weighty belly, Jihyo motions you towards her flush lips. You happily comply, letting Mommy slurp your conjoined juices off of your shaft with startling enthusiasm, lowering yourself until you are parallel on the bed beside her. Gradually, you find yourself on your back, while Jihyo works your cock until it is once more stiff at attention. With a dreamy look, she scoots forward until her breasts engulf your entire dick, smothering them in warm, soft flesh. Squishing them together, Jihyo kneads her boobs as she uses them to stroke you, until tiny pearls of liquid weep from her nipples. You sigh with pleasure as Jihyo uses her milk to lubricate your tittyfuck, your tip now bright red when it peeks out from between her tits. Spotting this, she promptly latches her mouth around your cockhead, her cheeks hollowing even as she relentlessly uses her breasts to massage your length. Your second load fountains directly into Jihyo's mouth, filling it with such quantities of seed that she is forced to swallow twice.

But Jihyo is not done with you yet, pulling herself atop you she kisses her way up to your face. She grinds her soggy crotch against your own, eager to receive your long hard love once more. Her heavy breaths moisten your neck, as she urges you to get it up once more for her, to get it hard again for Mommy. Combined with the aphrodisiacal fluids marinating your cock, Jihyo's entreaties allow your manhood to make one last heroic stand; defying your mortal limitations for the goddess atop you. Who in appreciation of your efforts, will do the draining without taxing your already exhausted body. Leaning back, Jihyo moves your cock along her sodden sex, your tip hidden within her bush and she massages it with her folds. Then, to your surprise, she moves it even further back, and promptly sits on your cock, burying it within her ass. You nearly cum from sheer excitement, Jihyo's anus is far tighter than her pussy, rapaciously forcing you deep inside of her with every thrust. She bounces atop you, the child within her adding extra heft to her ride, slamming against you remorselessly. Such is the force of Jihyo's fucking that her pussy lips open themselves, revealing to you the pulsing pink hole you so recently were plowing. Jihyo uses one hand to balance herself, while the other plays with her hair, before descending to massage her leaking breasts. With an animalistic grunt, Jihyo cums around your cock, her coils clenching tight around you as she leaks all over your chest. Now her ride is punctuated by wet slapping sounds that reverberate around the room, an announcement to all of your lovemaking abilities. It is all too much for you; your balls mightily exert themselves one final time, depleting your last reserves of sperm to impregnate Jihyo's infertile guts. Who only stops her steady bounces when your flaccid cock flops out of her vice-like asshole, she pouts down at you, surely you have more for Mommy...?

Jihyo lowers herself down onto you, wide ass in the air, resuming her motherly blowjob as she encourages you to rise to the occasion once more. But your cock is utterly spent, shriveling within her mouth even as her suction grows ever more stringent. You are rescued from a horrible fate by the sudden arrival of another fan, who plunges within Jihyo's exposed pussy without warning. She groans at the unexpected pleasure, forgetting about you for a moment as she enjoys the raw heat building within her belly. Strong hands yank you off of the bed, Momo's strained face fills your vision as she pulls you to safety. She drags you through a back door, into a room filled with cots and stocked with enough supplies to satisfy an army. Dahyun glances up from a couch where she was busy cleaning her nails, an eyebrow cocked in elegant bemusement. Which quickly turns to dismay as Momo collapses beside you, messily extruding the massive vibrator still within her pussy with a gush of fluids. Dahyun gingerly tends to her fallen group member, ignoring you entirely until her friend has been taken care of. Only then does she drag you onto a bed, before giving you a speculative glance. You know, Dahyun does have some aphrodisiac laying around if you want to... Oh never mind, you're about to pass out anyways...

#kpop smut #twice jihyo #Twice smut #jihyo smut

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kasagia · 1 year

Note

you can make a one-shot for klaus mikaelson very much in love with y/n based on the song i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys (you can do it from klaus's point of view)

I wanna be yours

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Katherine's sister! reader Summary: Over the ages, Klaus finally matures to admit that he has fallen in love with you, Katherine Pierce's sister. However, can you two be more than occasional "once in a century" one-night stands? Can he be yours, and you only his? Nonsense from me: So sorry it took me so long. I hope You like it. <;3 Warning(s): the reader is afraid of relationships and commitments; Klaus loves the reader, but it takes 400 years for him to realize it; violence; blood; curses; and so on Word count: ???(9k)???(I don't know why and when it became so long, and I'm a little nervous that it's such a long tapeworm)

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner Breathing in your dust

It started very innocently, like any real apocalypse or nightmare. Klaus didn't even realize when Y/N Petrova—the sister of the cold bitch, pain in the ass, and one and only Katherine Pierce—stole his heart.

Yes. She stole it. Klaus did not believe that he would willingly give her the meager remnants of his humanity (even if he hated them).

He could easily have been hiding his unwanted desire for centuries. Occasional encounters with the younger Petrova, their accidental, intense trysts, and once-in-a-century one-night stands, were completely enough to quench his thirst for this diabolical, dangerous woman.

But since their paths met again in Mystic Falls (while searching for a cure for vampirism), Klaus wanted more.

He desperately sought her slightest attention. He followed her around the city like a shadow. He stayed with her as much as he could, even giving her access to his cure research and telling her what he did know about it… well, part of it - Mikaelson can't trust the devil's sister. But everything he was doing since she arrived was just for Y/N to find her way back to his bed again.

He needed to vent his lust to Y/N. He was sure that after one night together he would revert to his murderous habits and continue his ruthless fight for the cure without the (delightfully tempting and beautiful) distractions around him. He was wrong. Terrible wrong.

Her warmth, touch, scent, the softness of her skin, the wonderful moans that lingered in his mind, the delighted look on her blissful post-orgasmic face, and the soothing weight of her body on his as she fell peacefully asleep were like a nercotic to Klaus.

He needed more.

He needed more of her. He would take from her everything she could give him. Even if it was her hate, anger, frustration, or just pure physical desire. Even if being with her was leading to his downfall. She was a siren, and he willingly fell for her alluring song like a foolish pirate.

And now, lying with Y/N in his arms, as he tenderly combed her hair after a passionate night they spent together, he couldn't get the one stupid, irritatingly frequent thought out of his mind.

He wanted to be hers.

I wanna be your Ford Cortina I will never rust

He remembered the day when their mutual interest in each other turned into something more. (At least on his side.)

Y/N and Katerina were hiding from the originals in Venice. Klaus and his brother, thanks to their vampires, found the sisters there. So under the cover of night, masks on their faces, they mingled with the celebrating crowd.

Klaus sensed her before he saw her.

The scent of her sweet perfume hit his nostrils, enforcing his determination to find the fleeing vampire. He had to find her. Now.

He made his way through the crowd of people, searching among the masks and bodies for the one person who, despite such blatant betrayal, could easily soothe his anger with one banal kiss.

He remembered clearly one day teasing Elijah that he was starting to care about Katerina. He had no idea then that the younger Petrova was already paving the way to his cold, dead heart. Or that Y/N had him wrapped around her little finger. Klaus laughed bitterly, remembering his old words. "We do not feel and we do not care, Elijah." What would his former self think of him if it saw him chasing the slightest trace of the woman who had thwarted his plans to become a hybrid? What would he say if it came out that all Klaus wants to do now with the youngest Petrova is kiss the living hell out of her and lock her in his arms forever?

And when he saw her. On a gondola in the middle of one of the rivers, when her night-black mask concealed her beautiful face and eyes, which sparkled in the light of torches and lanterns floating above the water, he felt something he hadn't felt for a very long time and was very frightened to admit to himself...

For these eyes, many men have completely lost their minds. Suddeny, she looked in his direction, subconsciously sensing that she was being watched. And in this moment, when their eyes met, Klaus knew that, like those unfortunate fools before him, he too was lost forever. It takes her one look to make him forget his main goal.

In a second, he was on the other side of the river. He was standing on the pier, waiting for her gondola to reach the shore.

"Hello, love." he said, extending his hand to help her out. With incredible grace, she stood next to him, completely ignoring his gesture. He smiled. That's what he loved about her. Stubborn, steadfast independence.

"Klaus. I guess you're not here for food and music?" he smiled involuntarily, ignoring her feigned hostile tone as her irises met his again.

"I much prefer beautiful views. But you're right, my main goal was not to enjoy the festival. I had… completely different plans."

"With my sister? I can assure you that I'm much better company than Katerina. We may have… a different kind of play together. Much more pleasurable." she said with a seductive smile, blinking her eyelashes innocently as her hand played with the sleeve of his coat, occasionally touching the skin of his rough palm with her soft fingertips.

Another reminder of how different they were from each other.

"Are you trying to distract me so your lovely sister can run away again?"

"You tell me…" Y/N took a step towards him, pressing her chest against his. She licked her lips, drawing his heavy, watchful gaze. "Am I a good distraction, my lord?" she whispered, leaning closer to him so that their noses were touching.

Klaus had never been this close to her lips... but he couldn't afford to indulge in his darkest desires. Not like this - thanks to a cunning plan hatched by the Petrova siblings.

"You're playing a very dangerous game, love…" he responded quietly, slipping his hands into her hair. And when their lips would finally meet after century of chasing, he pushed her a decent distance away from him. Y/N gasped in outrage as she nearly bumped into the crates with fruits behind her. "You should be careful, or you'll get burned because of it someday. And know when and on whom to use those sweet eyes of yours, which can work, but only on lesser men. Now get away with Katerina before I change my mind."

Without waiting for her response, he headed in the opposite direction, leaving the young vampire behind. But Y/N wouldn't let him go that easily.

"You won't fool me! Not about that!" He turned to her, raising an eyebrow questioningly. Klaus was doing his best to hide from the woman in front of him his stupid fondness for her. He was the original vampire, a hybrid, and the most powerful and fearsome being on this earth. He couldn't have a weakness, much less a simple woman who had tricked him, escaped, and ruined his plans. But all he could do was stand there and watch her in fascination as she got angrier with every step closer to him. "I see desire in your eyes every time you look at me. You want me, and that's why you're playing cat and mouse with us, but you know what? I'm tired of taking orders. From Katerina, you, and others who best know what I should do."

"So? What are you going to do, love?" he asked, smiling maliciously in challenge. He was genuinely curious to see where the young vampire's frustration and fury might lead him today. She must have had a good argument with her sister before he got here. Otherwise, she would never touch him.

Y/N used her vampire-speed and pinned him to the wall of one of the buildings.

They stared into each other's eyes, building tension with anticipation of what both of them had wanted since they met. Y/N's running away and him killing her family didn't seem to be conducive to building a romance. But now, when so much time has passed and the youngest Petrova is still struggling with the vampire's heightened emotions? They succumbed to the pleasures of a forbidden affair, finally connecting their lips in their first lustful, passionate kiss.

"What time is it?" Y/N's soft, surly mumbling against his neck snapped Klaus out of his memories. He glanced at the alarm clock.

9 a.m.

"6 a.m." he lied to her, tightening his grip around her half-asleep body. He wasn't ready to let her go yet.

"So stop staring at me and go back to sleep, half-wolfie." she mumbled, squirming in his arms until she found a comfortable position with her head right over his heart and her legs between his.

"Half-wolfie?" he asked amusedly, laughing softly, which made the vampire's head bob slightly. She rose for a moment, opening one eye and shooting him a angry glare.

"Would you rather be an crossbreed? Sleep or I will take another bedroom in this ridiculously large house." she groaned, laying her head on his chest again.

"As you wish, love." he murmured, kissing the top of her head and letting himself go back to sleep, hugging the one woman he could never truly have.

Because no matter how many nights they spend together or how much time they devote to each other during the day, all they will be are midnight lovers, hiding their relationship.

They stood on opposite sides of the barricade.

Y/N would never leave Katerina, and Klaus wouldn't abandon his siblings for the younger Petrova.

The world and fate were against them.

And Klaus was the only one who was ready to fight with them, only to gain the feeling of a sleeping beauty in his arms.

If you like your coffee hot Let me be your coffee pot You call the shots babe I just wanna be yours

The problem that has plagued Klaus for ages is that he and Y/N could never truly belong together.

He couldn't make any claims to her, and every time he tried to transfer their friend/enemy relationship with benefits to something more, younger Petrova brought him down to earth. He never cared much about it. He believed that Y/N needed time to understand her feelings for him. However, one conversation he overheard put his hopes of being hers in great doubt.

"What's going on with you and Klaus?" Katerina laughed out loud, obviously genuinely amused by something. "Don't make that face. I was talking to Kol about how often you show up at their mansion at night and you don't really go to gossip with Rebekah or Elijah. Are you two together?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." she brushed it off, trying to get off topic.

"Oh come on, spill the beans! Do you love him?" Klaus unconsciously held his breath. His heart was beating wildly, waiting for her answer that could change everything between them, made his deepest dreams come true.

"If you must know, I don't love him. It is just sex. Very good and pleasant sex. No feelings except pure, animal desire and passion." Klaus felt as if he had been punched in the stomach. Yeah. What was he counting on? After all, no one could love a monster like him. Unconditional, sincere love was not meant for him… even if he wanted it so much.

"Ugh, okay! Spare me the details, I don't want to vomit. But I thought you…"

"Love is a vampire's greatest weakness, Katerina. And we are not weak." his breathing quickened as he realized the true meaning of her words.

She heard them. Somehow, 1,000 years ago, she'd heard him talking to Elijah about love in a vampire's life... Back when he didn't believe in the true power of such a thing as love.

"And what about me, then?"

"You're my sister. That's something different. Now, I have to go. See you tomorrow." he hid in the shadows, waiting for the two women to pass him, and stayed there for a while.

Even though Klaus' heart was broken into a thousand little pieces, he knew he couldn't resist Y/N. He would take anything she could give him. Even that delusion of romance and a loving relationship that he both dreamed of and hated at the same time.

He couldn't believe he could just fall for her when he knew full well that things between them could only be physical. However, he soon found out that love really doesn't choose.

Secrets I have held in my heart Are harder to hide than I thought Maybe I just wanna be yours I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours

Klaus wasn't about to show it to her. It was supposed to be a secret he would take with him to the grave (if someone managed to kill him). However, Y/N's curiosity, coupled with his lack of focus on finding the cure, made a very bad, devastating combination. He finally managed to focus on something other than the vampire who had been distracting him for centuries, and for a moment of inattention everything went haywire again. Ages of slowly and uncertainly, but still, winning Y/N's heart have gone to hell.

Only because he didn't lock up his damn art studio.

Kol is going to laugh so fucking hard when he finds out. His younger brother will never let him forget that he lost the love of his life because she was scared by a million paintings of her in his house. She probably thought he was a goddamn stalker.

Klaus stood in the doorway, watching Y/N's expressionless face. He admired and hated her ability to hide her emotions. He had the impression that she always read him like an open book. He couldn't hide anything from her. But she could easily hide from anyone behind her mask. It was both terrifying and fascinating at the same time.

"Are you going to say something?" he finally asked after waiting a long time for any reaction from her.

She shifted her gaze from the paintings to him. Klaus felt shivers run through his body. He couldn't remember the last time he felt such intense fear.

"Well, it's... it's nice. But you painted my nose wrong."

"What?! I didn't! I..." he stopped when he heard her burst out laughing after valiant attempts to hold back. A smile involuntarily formed on his face upon hearing this beautiful and rare sound. "You're not mad… or scared?"

"Of what? You weren't able to paint my nose properly? Or putting on me a yellow dress when you know that I hate that color?"

"It's not yellow, it's orange mixed with… Do you really have to tease me like that? Stop laughing, bloody woman."

"I'm sorry, you just make a funny face when you're protecting your art. To be honest, it's so sweet." she laughed so loudly that she had to lean in half.

"You should know better than to mock a very powerful and angry hybrid, love." he grunted in anger. Y/N, seeing how grumpy he had become, walked over to him with a cute smile. Klaus groaned internally. He didn't know which was worse. She running away from him or teasing him about it for the foreseeable future.

"Do you really think that after I saw all those paintings you can threaten me? I know you're obsessed with me, so I'm the most fucking safest person on earth." she bragged, throwing her arms around his shoulders.

"Don't be complacent, your pretty features are not unusual. I have seen many of them in my long life." he grunted, slapping her hands off of him.

"And yet I'm the only one who has a private collection of portraits made by the mighty hybrid."

"You won't let it go, would you?" he sighed, looking at the very amused woman as he tried to ignore the growing, warm feeling in his chest. God. How come that just hearing her laugh made him feel calm and happy?

"Nope." she said, putting her hands again on his shoulders and pulling him closer to her as she was playing with his hair. "But it's quite a nice feeling... you know, being your one and only beloved muse."

"Someone here is terribly pleased with themselves. I think I have to remind you of your place." he grunted feistily, grabbing her waist.

"I'd like to see you try."

Suddenly, Klaus swung her over his shoulder and slapped her bottom as he carried the laughing woman to his bedroom. Yeah... he was definitely in love with her.

Wanna be yours Wanna be yours Wanna be yours

Klaus began to squirm in the bed, trying to pull Y/N's warm body to him, which he had somehow lost in his sleep. He froze in place, feeling the emptiness on the other side of the bed. A familiar bitterness and disappointment took over his body. He could have guessed that she would leave him as usual. However, as he became more aware of his surroundings, he heard her muffled voice coming from the bathroom. She was talking to someone. This time she didn't leave him, she even stayed with him all night! Excitement and hope rose involuntarily in him. Maybe this time it will be different?

"Yes, Katherine, I know. I don't know how I overslept either. I know I'm irresponsible, and I'm ruining our plans. No. I'm not enjoying this situation, you're just acting like you got your period magically. It's not my fault I missed the plane, believe me, and don't you dare take your anger out on me just because you had a fight with Elijah. Talk to me when you've calmed down. I'm not going to be your punching bag. Bye." The bathroom door handle began to move, and Klaus quickly closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep.

Y/N walked into the room and sighed as she dropped the phone into her purse. She ran a hand through her hair in nervousness and turned to the hybrid.

"I know you're awake. You stopped snoring." the man snorted indignantly, opening his eyes and appreciating her underwear-clad body. He could wake up to this view every day. "I'll castrate your brother as soon as I see him. You're lucky you're useful, or you'd have suffered the same fate for tricking me this morning."

"Very brave for an ordinary vampire to plan an attack on the original as the first thing to do in the morning. Apart from that, I don't snore."

"My nights experience with you says otherwise. And please, we both know I'm not just an ordinary vampire. You'd better make up for your deception toward me today before I get offended and seek someone else's company. Maybe Damon will be perfect? I've heard that for Katherine, he is very good in..."

Klaus cut her off by pinning her against the wall. Their chests rubbed against each other, her lacy bra teasing his bare, exposed skin. She raised an eyebrow, completely unimpressed. Klaus growled, baring her neck and extending his fangs to teasingly run them over her most sensitive spots.

"You will not talk about another man in my bedroom. These lips..." he said, resting his thumb against her soft pink lip, forcing Y/N to part her mouth. "Can only whisper, scream and moan my name. I must have been too gentle with you yesterday if you had the audacity to tease me like that. Maybe I should make sure you know who you belong to?"

"I don't belong to anyone."

"Wrong answer, love." he growled throatily, pulling her against him and pushing her against the bed as he climbed over her until their faces floated at the same height.

"What are you going to do? Fuck me to death? You should know better than to scare me with a good time, Niklaus."

"I'm going to do something completely different, love." Y/N raised an eyebrow questioningly, challenging him. Suddenly, fear flickered in her eyes as she realized his true intentions.

"No, Nik. We agreed never to…"

"That was ages ago, love." he murmured with a smirk as he began tickling her over the bare skin of her sensitive belly that was exposed to him.

"NO! HAHAH-NIK, STOP! I-HAHAHA!" she screamed, throwing herself into his arms, trying to avoid his fingers.

"I'm sorry. There is no mercy for you, love. At least you apologize."

"I"M-HAHAHA SORRY! PLEASE-HAHAHA SSSTOP IT!"

"You know what I meant, Y/N." he replied unfazed, only strengthening his attack against her sensitive skin.

"I CAN'T WITH-HAHAHAHAH YOUR FINGERS-HAHAHAH ON ME-AHAHAHA!" Klaus took pity on her, stopping to tickle her as he studied her red-laughing face intently as she took in quick, short breaths. "I hate you." she panted, breathing heavily. Klaus took a breath to answer her, but his sister's scream stopped him.

"Nik! Kol is in danger! He went to the Gilbert house to kill Jeremy, and they still have an white oak stake left! What the bloody hell?! Y/N?!" she screamed, turning her back to them two as soon as she entered the room and saw... THIS.

The two vampires looked at each other in shock.

"Hi, Rebekah. That's not what it looks like."

"So you don't fuck my brother?"

"Well, I did it earlier, but… Klaus, could you please get off me? This is awkward enough already."

"And put some clothes on you for the love of God!" Rebekah added, still with her back to them. Once they were both decent, Rebekah looked at them in disbelief.

"You two... How? When?!"

"Some 400 years ago. So, Kol…"

"WHAT?! But you hate each other! Well, maybe he's staring at you with puppy dog eyes in love, but you loathe him!" she shouted, pointing at her grumpy brother with her finger.

Klaus rolled his eyes. He didn't care at all about what situation Rebekah found them in. His siblings had an extraordinary tendency to come into his bedroom at more... steamy moments. To be honest, he was more surprised that Rebekah had only discovered their little secret now. Talking about her.

The original turned his curious gaze to Y/N. Again, their future was in her hands. But the vampire didn't seem eager to change their relationship in any way. Certainly not in the way Klaus had dreamed of for so long...

"Am I the only one in this room who actually cares about your brother's life? What did Kol do this time?" her attention turned away from her the penetrating gaze of the man sitting next to her.

Y/N breathed a sigh of relief as the siblings plunged into conversation. However, from the look Klaus gave her, she knew things would change drastically between them in the next few days. She could no longer avoid his longing glances and dismiss his attempts to establish a friendly, partner relationship instead of stopping at their one-night stands. But did she want to change anything?

Let me be your leccy meter And I'll never run out And let me be the portable heater That you'll get cold without

"It's a cold night." he said, sneaking up behind her and throwing his cloak over her shoulders. "I dare say that a short dress doesn't help keep you warm."

"Don't even start. I'm just waiting for the moment when I can wear pants without getting those judging, murderous looks from other women and lecherous expressions on the faces of these perverts."

"Rebekah says the same thing…" he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and fastened the buttons on his coat. Y/N giggled, returning Klaus' blue eyes to her face again. Only then did the man realize what he was doing, and he let go of the buttons, leaving her half-buttoned with a mischievous smirk on her lips. He felt his cheeks heat up slightly. "What are you doing here?"

"Katherine is playing with humans nearby. I thought I'd drop by for a visit and see for myself this great kingdom you've built, Klaus the Madness." she replied, leaning again against the railing of his balcony and staring out at the lively, dancing streets of New Orleans.

The light from the street lamp illuminated her face. Klaus absorbed all the changes that had taken place in her appearance, stating only that she was even more beautiful than when they last met. He didn't know how she did it.

"Is my fame starting to finally overtake me?" he asked, joining her side quickly. Y/N looked at him with a teasing smile, playing with the bracelet on his wrist. The same she gave him an century ago. She didn't think Klaus was sentimental enough to keep it.

"You are on the lips of all supernaturals in the world." she finally replied, shifting her gaze to his eyes, which shone in the light of the street lamp.

"Well, I would rather be on the tempting lips of only one, beautiful supernatural."

"And who could it be, my lord?" she replied in an equally flirtatious tone as her hand began to travel along his arm and muscles.

"Those mesmerizing eyes and cheeky lips will put you someday in a big trouble, love."

"Please, I'm Y/N Petrova. I'm always in danger, but I can get myself out. And also…" she kissed him, slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt. Klaus groaned, drawing her closer with one arm and cupping her warm cheek with the other hand. God, he missed the feeling of her in his arms. She pulled away from him, placing one finger over his lips, and staring at his eyes dilated with lust as they both breathed heavily. She ran one hand over the exposed skin of his chest, suddenly grabbing his necklace and pulling him to her with all her strength so that their noses rubbed against each other. "I'm not afraid of you."

"And that is your great mistake, love."

"Probably." she whispered, licking her lips in anticipation. She smiled as soon as she saw his gaze follow the movement of her tongue.

"Definitely." he replied, grabbing her waist, lifting her, and vampire-speeding her to his bedroom, where they could be as loud and as naked as they wanted.

That night was amazing. One of the best they had: she visited him for the first time in his beloved city, the home he built and hoped it would be theirs in the future, where he is for Y/N something more than a nightly forbidden pleasure. However, the pain of rejection when Klaus woke up in the morning among cold sheets with no goodbye note effectively pulled him out of this childish fantasy of belonging to her. He could never really have her. And Y/N reminded him about it every time.

I wanna be your setting lotion (Wanna be) Hold your hair in deep devotion (How deep?) At least as deep as the Pacific Ocean I wanna be yours

"What you were thinking about?! YOU COULD DIE THERE!" Klaus yelled at the woman as Rebekah took the last bits of wood out of the vampire's wound. She was only allowed into Y/N because Klaus' hands were too trembling for him to remove the white oak from his vampire's body by himself. Kol watched with great guilt as Petrova winced in pain.

"If that kid hit Kol, Rebekah wouldn't have much to fix, Klaus. I would be nothing but ashes, and you know that. Besides, I can say the same about you. You ran in there uninvited and ran out with me in your arms when you almost passed out from the pain yourself. What if they had more stakes? You could have died too." he ignored her, thrashing about the room in anger. Y/N snorted, falling onto the couch, so she got more comfortable while Rebekah was searching for the last splinter.

"I'm going to burn down their hellhouse as soon as I put my dear little brother back in the coffin." Kol jumped up from the couch with a horrified look.

"What?! But Nik, I..." the original tried to explain himself but stopped when Klaus threw a bottle at him.

"You went there even though you knew full well that they could kill us! You are a danger not only to yourself and Y/N but also to us, showing them how weak and easy to kill we are. You don't remember what the hell happened to Finn?! You want to share his bloody fate!" he shouted, walking towards his brother. Y/N jumped up from her seat and stood between the brothers, placing her hand on the hybrid's furiously beating heart.

"Klaus. You need to calm down."

"Go away, Y/N. This is between me and Kol. Rebekah, take her somewhere safe until I can deal with this mess our brother created." he growled at his sister, not giving the woman in front of him a single glance.

"No."

"What did you say?" he growled, finally looking at her for the first time since he saw little Gilbert stake her (luckily for the young hunter, he missed).

"I said no, Niklaus. You won't tell me what to do. If I want to, I'll take a stake for him again and again. I'll even protect him from your stupid daggers, and you can't change that." Rebekah and Kol nodded, both agreeing to leave the room as soon as "mom and dad" began to fight. They left unnoticed as the two stared at each other. Y/N with incredible calm; Klaus with incredible fury.

Why is she so devoted to Kol? What did he do that Y/N, without a moment's hesitation, threw herself in front of him to protect him from the white oak? What did he say to her to elicit such feelings from her?

"Why? What happened that you suddenly started feeling so strongly attached? I thought you were afraid of commitment, love." he asked bitterly, with clear resentment in his voice.

"Don't you dare to do this about us."

"YOU ALWAYS DOING IT ABOUT EVERYTHING BUT NOT US!" he shouted, tired of hiding his emotions. Especially after less than 15 minutes ago, she was in danger of dying in his arms. He had had enough. He was tired. And the object of his only desire did everything in her power to make things difficult for him. Yet he still couldn't be mad at her.

Good thing Kol got the hell out of there. Otherwise, his brother would have ripped off his head with my bare hands.

"Klaus, there is no time for..."

"Do you love him?" he asked, interrupting her. Panic rose in his chest, waiting for her answer—for Y/N to plunge the dagger into his barely beating heart and destroy whatever hope was left in him.

"What?!"

"You've heard me. Do you love my brother?"

"Yes. And this is exactly why I was fucking with you for the last 400 bloody years! My god, are you so blinded by your rage at Kol that it attacks your last brain cells?! That you insinuate some made-up, idiotic stuff and pounce on everyone like a rabid dog?!" she screamed, walking up to him unconsciously so that she was shouting it straight in his face.

"It's not anger that controls me." he growled through his teeth, clenching his fists in anger.

"Then what is it?!"

"Do you really want me to say it out loud, Y/N?" he whispered, staring at her softly. Y/N immediately calmed down. The atmosphere in the room changed from agitated to terrifyingly calm. They could both hear their frantically beating hearts in the oppressive silence between them.

"I..."

"NIKLAUS!" Elijah's scream and his quick footsteps interrupted their conversation. The woman thanked all the gods above who had sent the original at that moment.

"The worst bloody moment." Klaus whispered under his breath, thinking she wouldn't hear him, and brushed past her, leaving her alone in the room.

And Y/N wondered, breathing heavily after their argument… did she really want to hear THAT from Klaus? Was she ready for such a big change in their lives?

Secrets I have held in my heart Are harder to hide than I thought Maybe I just wanna be yours I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours

"Miss Mystic Falls? Are you kidding me? You know, if you're sending me a dress with a place to visit, I'm expecting more than some stupid, stiff party for teenage girls and their rich parents." she whined, walking around the pond with the laughing hybrid.

"Be quieter, love. These girls have pretty sharp nails."

"And I've got fangs, claws, and you. I'm damn better armed." she said, counting on her fingers, smirking mischievously.

"Should I take that as a compliment or an insult?"

"As if you cared if I offended you."

"Well since we're on our date..."

"Date?! First of all, since when do you even date? Secondly, we're not on one. And third: a beautiful dress will not suddenly win you my favor. Aside from the fact that neither of us is suited to any kind of relationship, I have to ask you. Who are you and what have you done with Klaus Mikaelson?!" Klaus started laughing out loud, unknowingly attracting the attention of the Mystic Falls gang. They did not think either of them had ever seen the original in such a good mood without committing any murder first. "Seriously, what happened to you? You're nice, you're flirty, and you haven't threatened to kill my sister once. I almost didn't recognize you in that suit. Are you trying to be Elijah?"

"Maybe Klaus is on vacation." they walked all the way around the pond and went back to the party. A slow tune started to play. "Will you please me, love?"

Y/N blushed slightly, accepting his outstretched hand. Klaus led them to the dance floor, keeping his distance from her, which made Y/N curse him internally. After being apart for so long, all she wanted was to feel his skin against hers. Nik didn't need to make this romance feel, prolonging everything... But her stupid, treacherous heart was beating madly with every minute she spent close to the original shamelessly flirting with her. And she didn't know how much more she would be able to push him away.

"On vacation? Do you have a split personality, or are you just not in this cure fight? I thought you would like to turn your doppelgänger into a human." she finally broke the silence, returning to their earlier conversation.

"I don't need hybrids that much. It turned out to be… not exactly a good idea."

"Let me guess. They inherit your character, and now you can't take these anymore? Welcome into my world! I have to deal with your grumpy attitude at any time we meet."

"Ouch. That really hurt." he leaned closer, waiting to see if she was going to push him off. She leaned closer still, trying to concentrate on anything but how his hands were on her waist. Y/N missed him in this big break they had. But she wouldn't be the one to admit it first.

"And yet you still come back to me like a lost puppy. Am I such an astonishing person that the mighty hybrid just can't imagine his life without me?" Klaus smiled and dipped her, holding her tight in his arms like she was about to disappear in any second. They looked deeply into each other's eyes, enchanted by the moment and totally forgetting about the world around them. Their lips were so close…

"Maybe." he whispered, gently nudging her nose with his. Y/N held her breath unconsciously, waiting for his next move as they still couldn't tear their eyes away from each other. "Maybe I just wanna be yours." Klaus leaned closer to her, willing to cross the last millimeter between them, but someone's loud grunt effectively killed the mood. If looks could kill, Damon Salvatore would be dead by now. Probably long before meeting any originals.

"I'm not sorry for interrupting you while you were trying to get a bite into your snack, but we kind of need your help… Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?!"

"Long time, no see, Damon. Did you miss me? Or maybe you spent a hundred years trying to find and rescue my sister. Oh, wait... you did. Such a poor thing."

Damon took a step toward her, growling, but Klaus stood in front of Y/N, staring warningly at the young vampire. Y/N was smiling ominously, pleased with the black-haired vampire's surprised expression. She might as well play with him just a little bit after she returns to Katherine.

"I didn't think you'd be close to the originals. Especially, after what he had done to your family."

"And I didn't think that after what Katherine did to you and sweet Stefan, you'd fight for the love of her doppelgänger. See how ridiculous the world is, Dame?"

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into, Klaus. To be honest, I thought you were a little smarter than to fall for her, but I guess I was wrong."

"Watch your mouth, Salvatore! He is an original, a hybrid. You don't want to know what he is capable of." Y/N growled, stepping out from behind Klaus and facing the younger vampire herself.

"You're really worth each other." he spat and started walking away from them.

"And since you started talking about honesty, we're both on team Stelena!" she shouted after the man, smiling as she saw him tense with anger. She turned to the original, frowning as Klaus looked at her with a raised eyebrow and his own smug grin. "What?"

"Nothing. You saved me a few hours of dealing with this bunch of young vampires by scaring Damon off. Name your prize, love."

"I'll pretend you didn't just call me a bogeyman, and I'll say I want one thing from your great collection of antique jewelry."

"Just this?"

"Well, if you find me something really beautiful and shiny, I can call Katherine and tell her I'm not coming home tonight."

"Just tonight?" he teased with a smirk.

"We can negotiate it later."

"Good." he took her hand and kissed her forehead. "Let's get out of here. This party is dead anyway."

Wanna be yours Wanna be yours Wanna be yours Wanna be yours Wanna be yours Wanna be yours Wanna be yours

Klaus played with the ends of Y/N's hair as they lay in bed together. After a stressful week in which he and his siblings managed to escape Mikael's clutches, Petrova's unannounced visit was a pleasant surprise for him. But now that they both lay exhausted after... very satisfying activities, came the moment that Klaus hated the most.

Y/N was probably about to leave.

He hoped she would fall asleep in his arms, so he could steal a few more hours in her presence, but that didn't happen. She was lying partly on top of him, drawing patterns across his chest. Klaus buried his nose in her hair, enjoying her closeness while he still could.

"You're nothing like Mikael." she whispered, stopping the movements of the man who was now staring at her in shock.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I heard you arguing with Kol about it before… you know, you dagger him and put him in a coffin. I just want to make sure you know about it. You seemed so… pensive at first and a little bit sad. I thought it was because of this nonsense he said."

"What if it's true? If I'm really turning into him?" Y/N frowned, turning in his arms so that she was on her stomach and could look into his eyes as he continued to hold her.

"Well, he is not your real father, so I don't think you could inherit his psycho genes. Besides, if that were true, you'd kill me instead of fucking me so I could see the stars, so..." he chuckled, pulling her closer to him.

"You see the stars, huh?" he asked maliciously, with a smug smirk.

"Shut up. You know very well that you are extraordinary. I wouldn't come back to you if you weren't."

"And I wouldn't let you into that bed if you weren't just as tempting."

"I see what you're trying to do, but you really need to hear it, Nik. You're not a monster. You're just trying to keep your siblings safe. Maybe not in the best way, but you have good motives."

"You from all of the people should know that I'm not good. I'm pure evil, love. The monster parents tell their children about at night. I killed your family, Y/N... you shouldn't even be here."

"But I am. And I think we already talked about giving me orders or advice. I know what I am doing, Klaus. If I decide that you're worth my time, then you are. So shut up and let me finish." she kissed him, preventing him from trying to respond. Before Klaus demanded more of her, she pulled away from him, placing her index finger on his lips as he watched her in complete silence. "My parents were horrible, heartless people. And honestly? I'm glad they're dead. You are not a monster. You are Niklaus Mikaelson, a hybrid, loving brother who will do anything to protect your family from a father who abused you physically and mentally your whole childhood. You may not always make the right decisions, but none of us is perfect. And I regret some things in my life, but I will never regret meeting you. Not a single second have we spent together. Because I think you're someone worth knowing. Even if you don't agree with me."

Klaus stared blankly at her. It was the first time someone ever saw him for more than his murderous, dangerous side. His heart started to beat faster, and he prayed for all the gods that exist to prevent her from hearing it. Instead of letting himself take off his mask for the first time since he had become a vampire, he decided to cover up his real feelings, so that Y/N wouldn't know that his soft side for her wasn't only out of desire... but also something he couldn't admit to himself right then.

"Don't pity me." he growled, throwing her off him and walking over to the window.

"That's not a pity. You know I wouldn't tell it to you if I didn't think so." Klaus spun around furiously, trying his best to camouflage his fear with anger.

"And what else did you read from my personality? You're doing pretty well so far, considering we're just fucking in corners under the cover of night." Y/N stood up too, not hesitating to face the hybrid for a moment.

"This attempt to make me angry will do nothing. You try to push me away before I go too far, but it's too late. I know you, Klaus, and I know what you're most afraid of."

"And what is it?"

"Loneliness." Klaus froze in place, watching her with not even the slightest emotion on his face. "You don't want to be alone, which is why you gather so many people around you. Though you never let anyone get close enough to know your real self. But you know, you'll never get over that feeling if you don't let anyone in. Or if you keep locking your siblings in boxes or coercing others into obedience. It's... a beautiful, wonderful city, but how many people are really willing to follow you of their own free will? You may be king, but ruling vampires, werewolves, and witches with fear will accomplish nothing."

Klaus stood silently, watching her intently. Y/N shook her head in disappointment as she turned away from him and began to gather her belongings scattered around the room.

As she was about to put on her dress, Klaus ran over to her and gently grabbed her arm, turning her to face him. She raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Stay." she snorted, shaking her head with a bitter laugh as she brushed his hand off her. But Klaus didn't give up. He cupped both of her cheeks, forcing her to look into his eyes. It was the first time he had looked at someone with such pure desperation. "Please."

Her defensive posture dropped. The dress fell from her hands as she grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the bed. Without a word, she clung to him again as they tried to fall asleep.

They both took a risk today by showing each other their other faces, which they had never shown to anyone else except their families. They saw the lost, struggling in their darkness, people who needed the closeness of each other.

They both let themselves sink into their own dreams, where they loved each other unconditionally. But then both of them were too scared, distrustful, and hurt by fate to fully trust the other one.

But this time, Y/N stayed with him until he woke up. And Klaus, for the first time in his 1000 years of life, felt hope.

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner Breathing in your dust I wanna be your Ford Cortina I will never rust

Y/N has never been more scared in her entire life. She ran as fast as she could to Mystic Falls High School, hoping Katherine had either won the duel with Elena or had come to her senses and fled as soon as she realized the younger vampire had the cure.

She had no plan, no emergency escape, and no secret weapon. She had nothing. But she knew she had to help Katherine, even if she had to turn human herself in the process of rescuing her sister. She was all Y/N had left in this world. And she knew well that Katerina would do the same for her. Even if people didn't believe in her.

She ran into one of the corridors, following the sounds of the fight.

Her heart was beating wildly as she pushed Elena against the far wall, glancing out of the corner of her eye at the unconscious brunette on the floor. She breathed a momentary sigh of relief when she saw that Elena was still holding a cure in her hand.

"It ends here. Katherine will recover soon. You can't beat us both."

"I got along quite well with Katherine. I doubt you'd be a stronger opponent."

"Then you're dumber than I thought."

Elena lunged at her, trying to break her neck, but Y/N dodged, scanning her surroundings for any weapons. But Gilbert didn't give her enough time to think. She kept attacking the older vampire, inflicting small, meaningless injuries on each other. Y/N had to think of something, and fast, before Elena somehow got the upper hand on her.

The younger Petrova stumbled as Elena pushed her against the opposite wall. She groaned as blood began to run down her hair and down her spine. As soon as Gilbert got closer to her, she swung, causing the brunette to fall next to her on the floor.

They struggled for a while until the younger vampire bit into her neck, startling her. Both immediately plunged their free hands into the other's chest, holding each other's hearts tightly.

From Elena's determined look, Y/N knew she wouldn't be happy with a tie. One or both of them will end up with their hearts ripped out. There was no other way.

"Let her go! Or your dear Damon will die with her!" Klaus' voice coming from behind her made her heart beat even faster in Elena's strong grip.

How the hell did he get here?! After that fight at his house and their goodbyes, he was supposed to be in New Orleans rebuilding his relationship with siblings and his kingdom, not in Mystic Falls saving my ass as usual.

"How do I know he'll survive if I let her go?"

"You have my word, Elena." Elijah came out from the other end of the corridor.

Seeing my sister's ex made me both happy and murderous at the same time. Although... maybe he still cared about her, since he'd come to his noble ass here to save her.

"Be careful, doppelgänger; I'm holding your heart too. Don't forget that." she reminded her, clutching Elena's heart tighter, and she moaned in pain.

"Y/N." Klaus' warning snarl got no reaction from her. She stared defiantly at the doppelgänger.

"I told you. It ends here, Elena. Nobody has to die. Just let it go." her gentle tone of voice weakened the vigilance of the brunette kneeling in front of her. Y/N took advantage of this and, at the speed of light, loosened the doppelgänger's grip on her heart and ripped her hand from her chest with a scream. She also let go of her heart and shoved the medicine down her throat, pushing her to the floor.

Klaus was at her side immediately, taking her into his arms and watching the doppelgänger unconscious from the fall. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt his vampire heart beating. A second too late, and it could have ended very differently. He pulled the living vampire closer to him, trying to chase away the dark thoughts.

"Niklaus!" her raised voice brought him back to the world. His brother stood beside them, holding the unconscious Katherine in his hands, watching him closely. He turned his gaze to the tired woman in his own arms. "Please get us out of here."

Klaus nodded, getting up with her and holding Y/N in a bridal style, close to his chest, so she could rest her head on him. Both originals left the school and went to their cars. Each of them finally took his girl home.

I just wanna be yours (Wanna be yours) I just wanna be yours (Wanna be yours) I just wanna be yours (Wanna be yours)

"Penny for your toughts." Klaus crept up behind her as she stared blankly at the streets of New Orleans. Involuntarily, he remembered how they had met here 100 years ago... and the night that made him realize how he really felt about her—the night she had stayed with him for the whole night and day for the first time.

She looked much better after resting in their mansion. Klaus could get used to having her so close to him, along with his entire family.

"I'm offended that you value them at a penny. But if you must know, I was thinking about you."

"Me? What a pleasure. And what you had in your smart brain, love?" he asked, glad he wasn't the only one of the two who thought of the other when they were apart.

"I've lost count of the amount of times you've been there for me and everyone you care about. But today you save someone who doesn't mean a thing to you. You could just take me out of there and let Elena shove the cure down my sister's throat without telling Elijah that she is in danger. But you didn't. You of all people saved Katherine's life, along with mine. Why?" Klaus avoided Y/N's scrutinizing gaze, pretending to be very interested in seeing the town below him.

"Leave it Y/N. I just did it. I wasn't thinking then. In hindsight, I should have made sure she turned into a human myself, and kill her. I still can do it, so for her own good, don't put any ideas in my head."

"Klaus. Just answer it."

"I did."

"Niklaus." he turned to her, meeting her expectant gaze. Klaus swallowed. He had dreamed of this moment so many times, even in the very place where they stood… but could he overcome the fear of rejection? Being alone again?

"I don't know if you're ready for the truth, love."

"Try me. Maybe you'll be surprised." Klaus sighed, looking away from her. Were they both ready to cross that safe line they had set so many years ago? He did not know. But he figured he'd never find a better time…

"I saved Katherine because you wished it... Because what's important to you is important to me. What makes you laugh makes me want to keep it. What scares you I want to tear apart. You are the most important thing to me. I can't spend a single day, sleep, eat, or do anything without thinking about you deeply in my head. You own me. Body, mind, and soul. I've been yours since the day I met you. And I'll always wanna be only yours, even if you don't want me at all."

Klaus plucked up the courage to bring his gaze back to her face. She was expressionless. Totally poker. He felt a cold shiver run through his body, and the pain of rejection paralyzed him so much that he was unable to make any move. The hybrid cleared his throat, controlling the trembling in his voice and the coming tears.

"You can run away now. I won't chase you, Y/N."

Those words brought her out of her trance. However, Klaus kept his head down, not wanting to see the love of his life walk away from him.

If he hadn't, he would have known the love and emotion on her face.

Y/N walked over to him, shocking him to feel her gentle hands on his cheeks and stunning him as she pressed her lips to his in a tender, soft kiss.

They couldn't get away from each other. They clung to each other as if they were the only anchor holding them in this world, embracing and kissing so hard that neither of them could mistake this moment for a dream.

It was only the lack of air that forced them to move away from each other significantly, resting their foreheads against each other as they inhaled the familiar, calming scent of their second halves.

"I'm tired of running." Y/N whispered, planting kisses across his face, teasing him as she deliberately avoided his seeking lips. "And I never want you to let me go. Ever. You stuck out with me, my lord."

"As you do with me, my queen."

"Good." she smiled, drawing him into another of their many kisses as she led him to his bedroom.

She stayed with him that night. And the next, and the next one. And she never left his side again.

He was hers. She was his. They belong to each other.

And Klaus was in heaven.

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