#and so pathetic as to not be worth the effort of thinking about | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shalotttower · 6 months

Text

Fractalize (part 1)

Title: Fractalize

Fandom: Hunter x Hunter

Summary: Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness.

Word count: 3700+

Characters: Chrollo x Reader (female)

Notes: yandere Chrollo, kidnapped, depressed and miserable Reader, Reader is dissociating a lot, morbid pondering, suicidal thoughts, explicit/triggering language/words, Reader's thoughts on possible sexual assault in future. Part 2

Fractalize - making things into smaller copies of themselves over and over again.

Sometimes you stand in front of a mirror and try to picture yourself in another timeline. One where your life didn’t take this specific turn. You try to imagine a different setting, a different apartment - perhaps the one you had before Chrollo started moving you around like a luggage bag. Maybe living in a cottage by the sea or an old farmhouse. Someplace rural, peaceful. With a garden and fresh air, far away from the city noises.

It's difficult at first, your reflection keeps slipping through your mental fingers every time you think the image is set in place. But with practice it becomes easier, sort of, so you can now see yourself clearly as you brush your hair - not here.

A blue dress on, made for nights at parties with friends. Laughing until your stomach hurts and eyes become sore. Making silly faces over alcoholic beverages. Or you can wear your favourite jeans with a high waist and head out to the pub, the same one with crooked stools and a broken sign. Drink cheep bear, eat greasy peanuts from a little bowl, listen to some small band play unknown and unheard songs.

Leave intoxicated, and everything is too fast and vibrant and wonderful until you're back home.

It's your favourite pastime now: imagine, remake and slip.

Imagine. Remake. Slip.

You don't quite remember the last time you laughed, a month ago maybe. Maybe more. Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness, dull, cold, you would compare it to a winter plastered all over your insides, but it's almost colder than that. It freezes everything and turns it into icicles hanging off the roof.

Remake, slip.

You have new vocabulary now.

"Mm" - is for when he asks you if you like a dress or a top and it doesn't matter how you actually feel about it, because it's going to end up being worn anyway.

"Okay" - is for when Chrollo sets another fancy meal for you on a dinner table and "Eat, don't be shy".

"I'm not hungry" - doesn't work with him, even if it's the truth. You always eat what's put in front of you, that's the rule, because he's not above shoving the spoon into your mouth, so you spare yourself the tears and sobs that will probably come with that. It's so bizarre: how much effort he puts into keeping you alive when you're anything but.

"Whatever you want" - is for when he asks you something that requires a choice, between two or three options usually. He's not one for an extensive list.

"If you say so" - for everything else.

You used to delude yourself with the idea that if you managed to appear pleasant enough, pleasant-talking, pleasant-listening, smiling a bit here and there, it would gain you some privileges and perhaps a bit more freedom. It did. But never where it really mattered. Those little things were absolutely inconsequential in the grand scheme. Yes, you can have that sweater, dear. No, you can't have your own bed. Yes, you can come shopping with me, if you give me a kiss. No, you can't take walks without me holding your hand.

Yes this and no that.

Those moments were fragile and so very takeable that they didn't give you any sense of accomplishment, just a short respite and bitter aftertaste that made you feel pathetic.

Wasn't worth it.

***

"Do you like animals, dear?" Chrollo asks out of the blue one day. He's reading something on his tablet while you're curled up on the couch, watching TV.

It's a new series that's been on the major channels for a few weeks, a mystery drama about a girl who moves into a house she inherited from her grandfather. The picture provides a distraction enough to have you forgetting where you are for a brief period three times a week.

You pull the blanket higher. "I do."

He knows it.

The girl on the screen finds a mysterious box hidden in the attic. Perhaps there's something valuable inside. Or information about her grandpa; your fingers tug on a loose blanket thread without much thought.

"What kind?"

Or maybe it's just a time capsule with photos and postcards and random objects collected over the years.

Or-

You had a cat before he took you. A foster grey ragdoll with blue eyes who liked to rest on your belly and bump her head against your chin. You called her Miss Whiskerton and kissed her little nose, because she did act like a proper lady - poised, dignified and entirely too proud to eat food mixed with medicine. The worst enemy Miss Whiskerton has ever had in her cat life was the corner of your couch. When you weren't paying attention, she would dig her claws into the fabric and leave thin lines. You hope that someone took her in.

She probably thought you abandoned her.

"Cats."

Chrollo hums in acknowledgment and continues scrolling through whatever he's looking at - maybe news or auction listings, you don't know nor do you really care. You shift under the blanket, pulling your legs closer to your body.

"We can get one, if you'd like."

"No."

Your answer is immediate and short, without thinking. You know it, you know him by now - there's nothing Chrollo does out of spontaneous generosity, it always benefits him in some way. And you've studied him enough to figure that any pet would only be a tool to keep you tamed and compliant. Puppies make life better. Happier, lighter, with goofy smiling faces and wiggling tails. Cats make life better with soft purrs and paws stomping on your chest. They're too easy to love.

"Why not?" There's a sound of tablet set on a wooden surface.

The girl on the screen is trying to solve a combination lock on the box when the TV switches off and your little world of carefully shot scenes and scripted lines vanishes. You don't need to turn around to guess where's the remote.

She almost had it, but now you won't know what's inside until Thursday evening.

Your reflection stares back from the dead screen, blank-faced and with a blanket pulled up your nose. It tickles a bit. "Because I don't want one."

A chair creaks. "Why?"

You close your eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. This is tiring. Always probing, digging, pushing. Trying to find chinks in your armor, but all you're wearing is just a flimsy dress with thin straps and a blanket you wish could swallow you whole.

"Don't need it."

"You said you like animals," Chrollo sits next to you and places a hand on top of your covered legs. He squeezes your thigh and you stare ahead, wishing he would just leave you alone tonight.

"I do." Your fingers twitch under the blanket, nails scratching at the fabric.

Strange. Sometimes it feels like he understands perfectly that you want to be alone, have time for yourself and don't want his constant physical presence. At the same time Chrollo brushes this all aside like old tin foil wrappers - insignificant. He pulls the blanket down and you cling on it stubbornly for a few seconds before letting go. His thumb and index finger grasp your chin and turn your face towards him so you have no choice but to meet his eyes.

There's such still intensity within him that made your skin crawl whenever he looked at you with this much focus and attention. You don't know what he saw there most times, it used to be fear or anger or sadness - right now it's none of these things. Everything inside you feels jammed and stiff.

"We should get a fish then," he continues, brushing hair out of your forehead. "You can watch it swim around, wouldn't that be nice?"

Chrollo talks to you like this sometimes, as if you're a child who needs to be convinced to eat veggies or take medicine. Like you're simple-minded and he's reasoning with you out of good will. It's sickening. You hate it.

"I don't want a pet," you repeat the words slowly. "If you're going to give me something only to take it away, then I don't want it."

His finger leisurely stroking your chin pauses at the edge of your bottom lip. Something flickers behind his eyes, it's barely noticeable but you've become good at catching those minuscule shifts. He smiles, yet there's nothing joyful about it. "Take it away? Why would I do that, dear?"

"Because that's what you do. Because that's how you are." You don't try to pull free from his hold, he'll only tighten it; not enough to hurt, no, he is too suave and polished for that - or wants to appear so - but enough for you to feel trapped under his palm.

There's something off about you, you can tell, but are not quite able to discern what or where. It sits in the very structure of your bones and eats away with ravenous appetite. An imbalance in the gut. Fever-warm body, cold fingers. Thoughts like potholes.

"And how am I exactly, according to you?" His voice is light, playful, a stark contrast to his eyes that study you with unnerving precision. Chrollo rarely loses his temper and never gets violent with you (yet, you correct yourself), but he has other ways of expressing displeasure, and they're petty, ugly and cold.

"Cruel," the word rolls off your tongue so effortlessly that almost frightens you; it's easy to tell the truth when you're this numb.

He looks taken aback for a split second, and the smile freezes. His hand stops midway to your hair. Then everything's gone.

Chrollo releases you and leans back into the cushions, almost thoughtful, like your observation is something that requires careful consideration.

"I suppose, it depends," he says finally.

"On what?"

"On how you choose to see things. Your perspective is bound to be biased, dear."

You don't respond.

To continue this conversation would be pointless and circular, like running on a treadmill, like everything else between you and Chrollo, really. He simply has too many answers to any possible argument, and no matter how convincing you manage to make them sound, he'll poke holes into each one. You don't want a fish. Or a cat. Or a dog, a bird, anything that moves and breathes and looks at you with big, trusting eyes.

Chrollo is cruel. Not in a way that's straightforward and brutal. Not in a way of someone who'd tear your limbs apart or rip off a fly's wing to see it wiggle. You have no doubt that he is capable of such a thing, but that would be uncouth. Cruelty in his case is a quieter, more delicate affair - in a way of a sculptor who'd chisel off everything unnecessary and unneeded, no matter the size or significance, to produce something entirely his.

His hands are soft, his voice is always composed, and he wears well tailored clothes. But the rest is sharp, clean and merciless.

"I think I'll go to bed," you say and push away the blanket.

"It's early."

"Mm."

He takes your hand just as you're about to slide off the sofa. Chrollo's always faster than you, always ahead and always observing, and that little realization while bitter is not so shocking anymore, more like another fact that you file away from your interactions.

You watch him. Wait.

"You're distraught," he says. "But you should know by now that there's no need for that."

Your hand remains in his grasp, limp and heavy.

"I don't enjoy seeing you upset, dear. Even more if you make false conclusions."

You turn to see the expression on his face - and there isn't one, at least not the type that most people would make. There are no frowning eyebrows, no clenched jaw that would indicate irritation, nothing like that.

"You're giving me too little credit," his tone is quiet as he runs his fingers up and down your wrist. "My intentions are not to hurt you. They are much, much sweeter than that."

"But you would," you say quietly and lean closer, ignoring the obvious implication behind his words. There is a hollow sensation inside of your head that prompts you to speak, everything is hollow - body and mind, heart, the space in your guts, your throat. "You would hurt me, if that's what you thought was necessary. Rip me apart and leave me deformed beyond repair, to fit into whatever framework you've laid, you would do that."

You're not being deliberately cryptic or fatalistic. These are your observations, based on a period of months spent together. They take root in no one being there for you anymore, in your phone which is long gone, in your closed accounts, your missing laptop and old clothes, the entire previous life in the city that has been discarded for something new. Chrollo was very methodical, you can give him that.

He doesn't listen, he studies your responses. Every single word. He has a talent for that, for absorbing everything about you while hardly ever letting you glimpse his interior - all that you know about him are tiny slivers which you picked up through living together, observation, accidental bits.

You expect him to contradict your statement, to offer a logical explanation why you're wrong, but instead Chrollo brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss against your knuckles. The touch is light and dry.

"You're not entirely wrong, dear," he says and moves closer until you can smell his aftershave, something fresh.

His proximity is uncomfortable, it always is and probably always will be.

"I'm right then," you say.

"No," he keeps your hand in his grasp. "But you're not entirely wrong either. That's what makes you interesting."

There's a strange kind of fondness in his voice, it's subtle, yet undeniably present. You've never felt less interesting in your life, in a dress with thin straps that's too fancy for a lazy day at home and your bare feet and tangled hair.

"If you say so," you respond and slowly tug your hand free. "I really want to sleep now."

You get up, and he lets you go without another proposition. The blanket falls off onto the sofa, and before you slip into the semi-darkness of the bedroom, he says,

"Not beyond repair. But I like to believe we can both agree it doesn't have to come to that."

***

The drive feels endless. Houses and streets blur in a mix of colors, shapes and people, which soon change to an empty highway with greenery on both sides. Trees and fields, tall grass swaying gently in the wind and rare cars passing you by. Chrollo's hand is resting on your leg; he hasn't moved it since the car started, but you choose to ignore it in favor of your regular pastime, the one that's made of imaginary worlds and places where the timeline stretches differently.

Mostly it's just you and the layout of your fake apartment.

Imagine, remake, slip. Repeat the steps until it becomes muscle memory.

You have this daydream on loop now. Wooden floor and wide windows, lots of sunlight. Books everywhere, comfy clothes and not a single skirt in your closet. A cup of tea with honey in the morning, and Miss Whiskerton curled into a soft grey ball on your lap. You feed her salmon in a shiny bowl, occasionally she catches a lizard outside and drops the tail on your doorstep as an offering, looking immensely proud of herself.

A smile slips on your face without meaning to, a wobbly thing; you promptly wipe it off.

It would be a crime to show such blatant joy. This fantasy has become so sweetly personal that every fiber of your being resists even acknowledging it in front of Chrollo. He can sense a stray happy thought from miles away, like a hound, and will never stop prodding until everything is raw and tender. You've learned to say less in his presence, especially if it's something that has you invested. Chrollo knows how to pick things apart.

You lean your cheek against the glass. This world would never happen, never in a million years, but dreaming doesn't hurt anyone, does it?

Your grandma, wearing an apron, sets a tray filled with fresh pastries on a table, because she's amazing like that. She fusses and worries and pretends to scold you. For not calling enough, for not coming sooner, for not eating well. For leaving.

"Dear."

You almost jump.

Chrollo's voice brings you back where his hand is heavy on your leg, you're wearing a dress above the knee and aren't allowed to use scissors or knives.

"Mm?"

"That frown of yours," he says, turning into a small road. The surroundings change again, it's quiet here, not a soul in sight. "It's been there for fifteen minutes now."

You sit up straight and move your hair out of your eyes. Chrollo's a perceptive one, so this is a reminder not to sink too deep around him, unless you absolutely need it.

"Was just thinking."

"You do it a lot lately," he states and looks at you from the corner of his eye.

True, but you have no intention to confirm it. First, he won't like the reason behind these thoughts. Second, he will dig and try to worm his way in. No. Most of what you've been fixating on, staring out of the window like a mindless drone, or reading and rereading pages that you barely grasped, would fail to create anything more complex in his heart than desire to pull it out.

For whatever twisted reason, Chrollo cares for your well-being, or, more precisely, your acceptance of his advances. Yet his way of caring isn't nurturing in any sense.

Chrollo's interest (you don't dare call it love) is crushing, too heavy to carry - he'll find what troubles you and "fix it" in way that will twist it into something pathetic. Something that shows how you have nothing else to cling on but him. You're not stupid enough to keep falling into this trap. Being a slow learner doesn't mean you don't learn at all.

He's done it before. He'll do it again. So you reply, "I haven't noticed."

His thumb rubs circles on your thigh; you press your shoulder against the car door as if hoping it might open. It doesn't, much to your disappointment.

"What was on your mind then?"

Something you shouldn't tell him, that's for sure. Chrollo's watching you, even if his eyes are trained on the road.

"Random stuff," you say. Half-truths, half-truths are safe. "A weird dream I had this morning."

If you bothered to look, you'd see a raised eyebrow and the faintest hint of amusement at the corners of his mouth. You don't.

"Tell me."

You hate when he does that.

"It was boring."

"I'm interested in anything that made you so pensive."

Chrollo likes conversations with you, even if they're short. You can tell that he does, or he wouldn't be trying to make you talk and getting subtly frustrated when you choose not to. It never shows outright, Chrollo is very gifted at keeping his calm exterior, but there are certain giveaways like the slight tightening of his hand, an emphasized "dear", a pause here, or a quiet exhale through the nose. You could make a list out of these.

If you ignore him, he gets quiet and handsy or petty enough to throw away the only dress you feel comfortable in. Stop bringing you new books. Take you to places you hate.

It's always the small things that kill you, not the big, dramatic ones. The devils in the details.

"There was a lizard," you begin, and he hums in response, prompting you to continue. "It was cute with brown spots and a tiny tail."

Lies weave themselves easily, intertwine with truths and turn it into something that resembles a story.

"It was sitting on my windowsill and I wanted to pet it. A cat came out of nowhere and almost ate it, then I woke up. It's a silly dream."

There. Nothing to dissect here, not that you can see. Just a nonsensical dream, filled with random happenings and strange emotions.

"And that's why you frowned for fifteen minutes?"

"Yes, I got sad."

Yes, you think. Yes, Chrollo. I frowned, because I care for the damn lizard that doesn't exist, an animal from a dream. A stupid musing, nothing special, a very mundane and simple thing, because people do have silly dreams sometimes, and it's not a crime. It's not a crime and has nothing to do with that fact that I have a whole dream world where I'm not with you in my head.

"How peculiar. You never struck me as the type to get upset over something like this."

"You never asked," you respond flatly and Chrollo's hand on your thigh moves an inch.

It brushes up, closer to where you really, really don't want it to be, so you squeeze his fingers hard and redirect them to the curve of your knee.

"True," he says after a pause, not sounding too bothered. A month ago you would've brushed his hand off completely, probably that's why. Chrollo is convinced that with enough patience and effort he'll be able to close that final barrier between you both. Time, coaxing, a dose or two of endearment, some carefully calculated touch - but you'd rather stick a knife through your ribs than have sex with him. Or his patience will simply run out and he'll rape you. You're not delusional. Not a fool. "Well, that can be fixed. I'll make sure to ask about your dreams more often, dear."

You lean back into the seat and stare ahead, this time without anything pleasant on your mind. Of course he will. Of course he'll take this as a sign to dig deeper and invade that small bit of solace, Chrollo can't simply co-exist. He wants it all.

"Mm," you say.

Your new vocabulary is such a handy thing.

#hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere #hunter x hunter fanfic #chrollo lucifer x reader #shalott fanfiction

668 notes · View notes

kasagia · 1 year

Note

Could you make something like where klaus' girlfriend/wife is really attractive and all of his enemies want her(like lucien or tristan)?

Everybody wants to steal my girl

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader Summary: Klaus (and you) have been struggling with hybrid's jealousy for 1,000 years. It doesn't help that you're stunningly beautiful and that all his enemies want to steal you from him. But Klaus will not let his wife ever leave his side—or worse, lose her feelings for him. Even if he is "slightly" insecure about himself. Warning(s): jealous Klaus, jealous reader, a bit smut (I think) but not 18+, Klaus being an insecure puppy Word count: 7k I guess

She's been my queen since we were sixteen, we want the same things We dream the same dreams, alright, alright?

Klaus stormed into the abattoir in a rage. He promised himself that he would rip Lucien's heart out of his chest as soon as the circumstances were right, making sure he had suffered enough for his heinous act beforehand.

Klaus was the only one who could flirt with his wife.

He'd have to make sure that this pathetic creature got the message the next time they met. Lucien had condemned his life to death anyway, but Klaus might have had the pity to spare him from his creative torture.

Y/N didn't like it when he got blood on the floor. And when their daughter Hope came into the world, she tried to keep the violence around her to a minimum. Which didn't mean Klaus shouldn't fight every potential suitor of his baby's mother. Hope would agree with him if she was old enough.

When he calmed down, he decided to look into the room of their miracle child. He smiled, leaning against the doorframe as he saw Y/N putting their daughter to sleep. She sang an Old Norse lullaby they both knew from their human days.

Klaus flashed back to the days when he was just a teenager, head over heels in love with the daughter of their village chief. Then he wouldn't even have had a chance to hold her hand in public. His family was lower in the village hierarchy, which meant he could only dream of marrying a(n) Y/N. Which didn't stop them from falling in love. And turning her into a vampire with the Mikaelson siblings—the only thing he owed to his mother.

They both wanted and dreamed of the same thing: being together. They've had their ups and downs over the past thousand years, but they've always stayed together. She was the only person in their family that Klaus had never stabbed. Besides, he couldn't. She was a hybrid, just like him. After breaking his curse, it turned out that their lost dreams of having a family together weren't all that lost. Hope appeared. And they both hoped she wouldn't be their only child. But first, they had to deal with their enemies.

Klaus knew he would do anything to protect his girls. And in moments like this—when Y/N smiled softly at him, holding their sleeping daughter in her arms—he knew that his efforts were damn well worth the hard work and sleepless nights.

His wife might just not be so irresistibly, wonderfully beautiful at every fucking moment of the day. It would have saved him a lot of nerves and fits of jealousy every time someone flirted with his goddess.

"Tough day?" Y/n asked, placing her hand on his cheek. Klaus didn't even notice when she approached him.

"It's better since I've seen you, love." he murmured, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to his chest to bury his nose in her delightfully fragrant hair.

Klaus adored every inch of her.

I know, I know, I know for sure Everybody want to steal my girl Everybody want to take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one cause she belongs to me

On days like this, Klaus was more murderous than usual.

Y/N knew full well that after agreeing to Tristan's polite request for a dance, Klaus was going to explode tonight. Not that she wanted to dance with the brother of a bitch who wanted to take her husband. Tristan's compliments to her, or even the subtle hints of his attraction to her, weren't pleasant to her either.

That was the plan: she was to distract Tristan while Klaus and Freya searched their house. The only thing Elijah didn't take into account was Klaus' enormous tendency to get jealous every time he touched her or received a compliment from another man.

Y/N could have sworn she saw Kol in the crowd eating a pack of popcorn, waiting for things to happen.

So she wasn't surprised when Klaus appeared at one point, snatching her from Tristan's arms with a warning growl. Or that he later marked her neck carefully and every inch of her body that had been contaminated by another man's hands.

Y/N was HIS and no one could ever change that. Not when he was around.

Elijah then burst into your room, being very annoyed at his brother's behavior. But honestly? He should have known better than to hope Klaus wouldn't give in to his jealousy. Tristan was lucky he didn't rip his hands off on the spot. On that day, the second of their first-turned vampires handed down a death sentence. Klaus wouldn't let anyone steal his wife.

Everybody want to steal my girl Everybody want to take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one cause she belongs to me

The cup of bitterness overflowed in Klaus when Lucien approached you on your annual "wedding anniversary" date. Yes, Klaus dared to show enough of his sentimental and tender side to declare this day a national holiday. No murders and no bodies on this day - that's what he promised you thousands of years ago.

But when he brought your order to the table and saw Lucien shamelessly flirting with you in front of him, inviting you for a drink at his suite, he seriously considered breaking that oath.

Unfortunately, he couldn't do that. He would rather avoid your wrath.

So instead, he walked over to your table with a sly, confident smirk, put the food on the table, and, grabbing your chin, pulled you close to kiss you passionately in front of the vampire.

He was marking his territory.

You smiled as Niklaus ignored Lucien's awkward grunt, only kissing you fiercely. He only let you go when he was sure your lips were swollen enough from his kiss. He smirked at your slightly disheveled state.

"Were you very bored without me, love?" he asked, playing with your hair.

"I kept her company, Klaus." the hybrid winced at Lucien's voice. He mustered up all the rest of his patience and turned his head, acknowledging the vampire's presence.

"Oh really? I didn't notice you, Lucien. You can go now." he brushed him off, turning back to you. Disgust in his gaze gave way to pure adoration. You were always amazed at how quickly you could change his mood with just your presence.

"Nik, sweetheart, it's very inappropriate to talk like that to our oldest friends, isn't it? Lucien, darling, we'll continue our conversation someday. You have to forgive me, but I promised my grumpy husband that I would focus all my attention on him today." you excused the two of you with a cute smile. Lucien just nodded, blushing.

You grabbed Klaus' arm and pulled him out of the bar before he lunged at the vampire.

"Niklaus, my heart and soul, you know I'm only yours, right?" you asked, kissing his cheek to stifle the surge of his jealousy.

"Yes. Which doesn't mean that this creature knows it too. And I'm not grumpy." he grunted, the furrow of irritation on his forehead deepening as he remembered Lucien's sweet words to you. He wanted to vomit as soon as you answered him in an equally nice and polite tone. "Every enemy of mine has a crush on you anyway; even my father doesn't feel disgusted and murderous toward you."

"Yes? You should have seen Aurora's face when she passed us a few minutes ago. She must have sent Lucien here to spoil our evening."

"Wait a minute, love... is that why you've drawn me to this very nice, unexpected, passionate, mind-blowing kiss in the middle of the street?" he asked with an incredulous smirk, watching with satisfaction as a treacherous blush crept onto your cheeks.

"What am I supposed to say? You're as territorial in this relationship as I am. Besides, we don't want to give our enemies the false impression that we see anything but each other, do we?"

"It's good to know you get jealous of me from time to time too, love."

"Time to time? Please, have you seen yourself in the mirror? I'm still at war with all these horny women who want to steal you from me. Such cheekbones, wonderful eyes, and an English accent are the dreams of many."

"Maybe, but I'm probably the one who chases away the most suitors out of the two of us. You have no idea how many people have had a crush on you over the centuries."

Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na Oh yeah Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na Alright Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na She belongs to me

There was going to be a celebration of the summer solstice in their village. Young Klaus was just waiting for you to sneak out with him after the ceremonial rites for your own celebration.

You've been courting each other for over three years now, and today Klaus was finally going to pluck up the courage (with the help of Elijah and Rebekah and Kol's teasing) to propose to you. The ring was safely in his pocket, and the sword was well hidden where the two of you were supposed to spend a romantic evening.

Everything was planned and ready. Nothing could go wrong today. He anticipated and ready for every circumstance, and his mother (the only one of your parents who knew about this secret relationship) promised him to keep his father away from your tryst's place.

But it never occurred to him that another man would try to steal you away from him.

Thor Ragnarsson, the strongest and most powerful young warrior from their village, has been dancing with you since the beginning of the night. And it didn't seem like he was going to let you go that easily, and after the rumors he heard from Kol, Klaus found out that the man wanted to court you.

Klaus had a panic attack. How could he—weak, one of the many sons of a lesser warrior—compete with such a man for your hand? Thor could give you much more than he can. He was stronger, richer, more famous, and handsomer... No. He couldn't think like that. Not when you were destined for each other by fate, stars, spirits, gods, or whatever was watching over you. He had to do something, and fast, before that son of a bitch charms you and you forget the boy who wrote you poems and painted your portraits on the bark of trees.

Klaus may not have been the strongest, but he had something that many of their villagers lacked. He had the cunning, brains, and skill of the best assassin. He will snatch you from this brute's clutches. But first he'll have to figure out how to do it (and take control of the deepening feelings of jealousy that clouded his good judgment.)

Thor only had two weaknesses. Beautiful women and strong drinks. He doubted that he would get drunk so easily; they don't know each other, so even if he offered him something stronger to drink (with an admixture of sleeping herbs), he would probably refuse and sense Klaus' ruse. So he had to resort to Plan B.

"Rebekah!" he shouted, trying to find his sister in the dancing crowd. He found her pretty quickly. He grabbed her hand and pulled her away from talking to some man (whom he and Elijah needed to check out in the future) and dragged the protesting blonde to a place where they could watch you and Thor. "I need your help. Do you see this skunk who is talking to my Y/N? Please distract him so I and Y/N can run away from there. You know I wanted to propose to her tonight, and that lesser man is ruining my whole plan!"

"Couldn't you have asked Tatia? She would have helped you because of Elijah."

"They got out of here before Kol could scare off another woman. Please, Rebekah. Won't you do it for your favorite brother?"

"She better say yes." she sighed in defeat, threading herself into the dancing crowd. After a moment, she hit Y/N's partner and winked at Klaus. He didn't waste a second. He ran over to you and, making sure everyone was too busy to notice you, threw you over his shoulder and took you from there.

"Nik! You can put me down now." she laughed at him as they entered the forest. Klaus reluctantly set her down, immediately drawing her into a passionate kiss, which she eagerly returned. "What took you so long?"

"I had to make sure the inconvenience wouldn't bother us when we sneaked out."

"That inconvenience has a name. Besides, Thor's just my friend. We both know very well that my heart belongs to only one man in this village."

"And who is it, love?"

"Well, he's quite tall; he has blonde hair and beautiful, mesmerizing blue eyes; and he's artistically talented. I've never seen more beautiful things than the ones he's made, and he's soooo jealous of me, but that's only because he loves me and he's pretty insecure about himself. Thinking about it like that, I guess I should make sure he knows how much I desire and love him so he doesn't come up with some weird ideas. What do you think?"

"I think this man was born under a lucky star to be worthy of a miracle like you."

"I forgot to add that he charms me with his words like no one else." you murmured, placing a tender kiss on his lips, which accelerated the rhythm of your already madly beating hearts. He pushed you into a tree, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close, not wanting the world to let this moment between you ever end. You pulled away from him, placing your hand gently on his cheek. You smiled, looking at him with love in your eyes as he turned his head to kiss your hand. "I dare not agree with you. I'm the lucky one to have you, Niklaus. And believe me, nothing on this earth can change the way I love you. Nothing is even close enough to steal me from your safe, loving arms."

"So what do you say when..." he knelt down in front of you, trembling with nerves as he took a hand-made ring from his pocket. "Will I offer you my heart, soul, and body forever? You have my eternal devotion, loyalty, and love regardless of your answer, but know that it will be a real honor and a gift from the gods to call you my wife and to have a family with you. I want nothing more in this world than for you to be mine, Y/N. And I may not be the best choice; I am not very rich or strong, but I promise you that I will try to be the best husband for you."

"Oh, Niklaus, you stupid, insecure man... of course I will marry you!" you screamed with tears in your eyes, throwing yourself at him and knocking the two of you to the ground. You both laughed happily as you kissed each other's faces. Klaus gently slid the ring onto your finger.

One satisfying thought lingered in his mind as you both lounged in the field, embracing each other and watching the stars, talking about your future together.

She belongs to me.

Kisses like cream, her walk is so mean And every jaw drops when she's in those jeans, alright, alright? I don't exist if I don't have her The sun doesn't shine, the world doesn't turn, alright, alright?

"Any party you forgot to invite me to?" Klaus flinched at your pretentious, cold tone of voice. He turned away from the table to explain why Lucien, Aurora, and Tristan were sitting at the table with him and his brothers but fell silent, trying to keep his jaw from dropping.

"You look breathtaking as always, darling. Tristan and I missed having a beautiful woman at this table." Klaus stared murderously at Lucien as he kissed your hand, ignoring Aurora's offended snort. He knew you did it on purpose.

This morning, when he asked you to take Hope to visit Aunt Hayley for the day, you were wearing a completely different outfit. Now you were wearing those annoyingly tight jeans that showed off your curves perfectly, and you knew he loved them. Paired with a plunging neckline blouse, diamond jewelry, and little makeup, you looked like a goddess. Aurora could hide in the septic tank with her elegant, short dress.

You smirked at Aurora, sitting down between Lucien and Tristan, across from your husband. And that, too, was a deliberate ploy. You were out of reach of his hands to tease him with your beauty even more, regaling those idiots by your side with your heavenly presence. Klaus will make sure you pay for your little feat tonight.

He shot you a warning look as he noticed Lucien inching slightly closer to you, but you ignored him completely, smiling at some comment from the younger vampire.

Oh, yes, you will definitely be punished.

"Something wrong, sweetheart?" you asked him, knowing full well where his thoughts wandered.

"No. You're messing up the world order by fawning over this scoundrel instead of sitting next to me."

"Perfectly fine, love. Just admiring your beauty tonight."

"Only mine?" you asked, casually swirling her glass of wine and glancing meaningfully at Aurora, who tensed slightly under your gaze. You smiled meanly, ignoring Elijah's staring at you with irritation.

After failing to get anything meaningful out of Lucien (Klaus wouldn't let you get close enough to use his tricks), Elijah figured Aurora's weakness for Klaus could be exploited. But this time he didn't anticipate that you'd pick up on your husband's jealous behavior.

And you were much worse than the mighty hybrid.

"You know you're the only one I belong to, love." Klaus finally answered, shocking the younger vampires. They had never witnessed the world's deadliest vampire softly professing his love and devotion to you. You smiled sweetly at him, offering him your hand, which he kissed without hesitation. You shot a malicious, defiant look at Aurora.

They thought he had you wrapped around his finger, but it turns out to be quite the opposite...

Everybody want to steal my girl Everybody want to take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one cause she belongs to me

"Cheer up, she's just talking to him and not even of her own free will, Nik." you heard Kol calming down your husband when you tried to get information from Lucien.

For some reason, a vampire who has been impersonating your husband over the years has fallen for your extraordinary beauty and become infatuated with you.

Elijah decided to try again and use this to your advantage, much to Klaus' displeasure and fury. This time, Elijah put his other younger brother on guard. Honestly, it was fun to watch Kol occasionally hold Klaus by his henley to keep him from running towards you.

But of the two evils, Kol preferred to fight Klaus' jealousy over yours. You have proven more than once that you are a more dangerous opponent than his already bloodthirsty brother.

"Are you alright, darling?" Lucien pulled you out of your thoughts as he looked at you with concern.

"Yeah, I'm just a little tired. Hope's been getting on my nerves lately. She's so little, and she already has her dad's temper."

"A beautiful and caring woman like you deserves one night off." he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and placing a flower there in the process. You had to admit that it was a very sweet gesture. You blushed involuntarily, smiling shyly at the vampire. "Will you do me the honor?" he asked, extending his hand towards you. You really didn't want to flirt with him, but Elijah didn't give you much of a way out. You hoped Klaus knew that. But from the burning look you could feel in the back of your head as Lucien led you to the dance floor, you knew you were bound to have a fit of jealousy at home.

You just hoped no one would die until you were alone in the same room with your husband to ease his jealousy.

You glanced out of the corner of your eye at Kol and Klaus' hideout. You almost burst out laughing as you saw the two brothers jostling with each other as Kol was trying hard to hold Klaus by his henley.

"Bloody hell, calm down before I put a dog muzzle around your neck!" Kol hissed at him, deftly dodging Klaus' fangs as he tried to inject him with his werewolf venom.

Fortunately, Freya came and took control of them, thanks to which the rest of the night went without incident (except that Klaus barged in at the end of the party and, together with Kol, pretending to be drunk, laughed at their ball. The divas, as always, had to show up.)

You thought everything would be fine, but on the way back, Nik didn't say a word to you, only holding your hand in an iron grip as he put up with Kol's story about what a "jealous and rabid dog" he had been throughout the whole ball.

The son of a bitch only made him angrier and escaping to Davina at the first possible opportunity after you were parked under abattoir.

The rest of the siblings got out of the car quickly, leaving you and Klaus alone. You had to defuse the ticking time bomb that was your husband before it was too late, and also on your own.

"Nik..." you began in a sweet tone, but the man didn't even look up from your joined hands as he played with your wedding ring on your finger. "Nik, listen…"

"Do you regret your decision?"he blurted out, not letting you finish your sentence.

"What?" you asked, shocked about his unexpected, serious question.

You turned to him so you could get a better look at him. He was staring at your hands nervously. You could feel his grip tightening with every second of the tense silence between you two.

"Do you regret marrying me?" he asked in a trembling, rueful voice.

"Oh, Niklaus... my best friend, my king, my soulmate. How could I ever regret marrying my first, true, epic love?" you took his cheeks in your hands, making him look you in the eyes. "I love you. All of you. In your good and bad days, and nothing can change that. None knows me as well as you do. Nobody is even close to making me feel the way you have been making me feel for these last thousand years. You are my peace, my home, my security, my heart, and my everything. There could be a billion people asking for my hand, and I'll choose you again, and again, and again. You, our sweet Hope, and your siblings are the only ones I care about in this bloody world. I'm yours, Niklaus, and I'm not going anywhere in the following eternity."

"Good." he murmured, barely holding back tears, and pulled you into a needy kiss.

You grabbed his shoulders and straddled him, knowing full well that, after moments of uncertainty like this, he needed your tender, firm touch.

And with the uncles and aunts watching over your daughter, you were more than willing to take care of your insecure husband.

The next day you woke up alone in your bed, but in a room filled with various beautiful flowers… none of them were like the one Lucien had given you and Klaus had burned.

Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na Oh yeah Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na Alright Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na

You lay in bed together, sleeping off the long weeks of fighting the de Martels and Lucien. You finally killed them, returning to that blissful, peaceful state. AND! Hope has gained a new Uncle Finn and Grandpa Ansel. And it looked like Aunt Davina would join your happy, crazy, Mikaelosn's bunch, thanks to Kol. Klaus allowed them to look after the baby under the watchful eye of Rebekah and Freya.

It'll probably be years before he trusts them enough to leave them alone with Hope, but that's just how your husband was.

Always a protector, a warrior, repelling any evil that could reach his loved ones.

"Stop thinking. Go back to sleep." he murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

Lately, he has had a strange urge to stay very close to you. Maybe it's because spring is coming? You didn't want to ask him about his wolf side yet. He was fairly new to it and... shy. You were glad that now Ansel would be able to help him understand his other half.

"I thought we established a long time ago that I disobey your orders." you started to comb his hair, smiling as you heard him purr softly. He deserved to rest after bravely defending your family. You didn't know how much time you had left until another bomb exploded in your face.

"You could at least pretend to be a little obedient to your husband." he huffed, his eyes still closed.

"Me? Obedient? I thought you knew what you were taking, Mikaelson. Now, it's too late for any returns." you snorted, amused. Klaus graciously opened one eye, staring at you adoringly.

"I did. You're mine forever." he replied seriously, making your cheeks flush furiously and your heart speed up.

"Good." you whispered, placing a tender, short kiss on his lips.

"Good." he replied, cupping your cheeks and kissing you "properly" stealing your breath away. You enjoyed a moment to yourselves, touching each other tenderly, grounding in the familiar feeling of another's lips.

You two needed it after weeks of jealousy and uncertainty on both sides. Reminders that nothing and no one can take each other away. You belonged to him as much as he belonged to you. Soul and body.

You still were kissing as Klaus slid his hand down your neck, breasts, and belly and started to lift your shirt, making you shiver every time your bare skin made brief contact with his fingertips.

Suddenly, Hope's cry came from downstairs, effectively breaking the moment between the two of you. Klaus groaned, resting his forehead against yours.

"Your daughter is calling us."

"And since when is she just my daughter?"

"Since she's been demanding our attention purely because of her current mood. You spoiled her, Nik, and she's not even 4."

"I know another woman I've spoiled, and she's not complaining about it at all. Maybe that's not a bad thing."

"Just bring her here. I need her too." you backed out, knowing full well you couldn't win this fight. Thousands of dresses, jewelry, and your portraits painted by Klaus spoke clearly against you. Hope may have been spoiled by her dad, but over the past thousand years (and probably many more to come), your husband has made sure you get everything you want. Even a fucking star in the sky.

"As you wish, love." he murmured, kissing your forehead before going to fetch your daughter.

She knows, she knows that I never let her down before She know, she knows that I'm never gonna let take another take her love from me

Klaus couldn't let his guard down. You just had to attract everyone with your beauty. Even the Salvatore brothers. He wasn't worried about Damon. He was too smitten with Elena to even think about making a move to get your affection. But Stefan… the golden, Salvatore hero—who had some dark points in common with him but was definitely a better choice than him. Bloody hell, he would want him too, if he had to choose between himself and him. So he has to work really hard to prove to you that he may be better than Stefan.

It didn't help that the younger vampire was stealing you in front of him and dancing with you most of the time at his mother's ball.

Not also the fact that you were willing to let him lead you after Klaus argued with you about Esther's intentions. You sensed something wrong with her aura, but Klaus believed (or wanted to believe) that his mother meant well. That, like him, she wanted to reunite the family.

You guys argued pretty hard about it. And now you were dancing in the arms of his enemy, honoring him with your beauty, smile and attention.

The worst part of it all was that you didn't send him a single malicious smirk. You didn't tease him like you usually did after your fights. You didn't even notice him as he watched you doggedly, tipping another glass of champagne. His name probably never crossed your mind this evening.

He played with the wedding ring on his finger, watching carefully as Salavtore flirted with you in front of him. He promised himself that this time he wouldn't give in to his jealousy. He won't play by the rules of your game, and he won't play the jealous husband. You will come to him yourself and apologize to him.

At least that was the plan until he saw you take your wedding ring off.

This was too fucking much for him.

He set his glass down on the table and with a quick, slightly unsteady step, walked over to the two of you and twisted Stefan's arm, the exact one he had dared to touch your bare shoulder.

Salvatore groaned, drawing the attention of those around you. But you stood firm as you watched your husband break at least two of his bones. He released Stefan in disgust and grabbed your hand, dragging you through the crowd of onlookers to his studio - the only place where no one would dare disturb you.

"What the hell was that?!" he shouted, slamming the door behind the two of you in anger.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, sweetheart."

"For your own good, don't make me more mad than I already am, love."

"And you, for your own good, remember that I AM NOT the meek wife you can order around! I'm the hybrid, like you, an original. You have no power over me, wolfie, no one has."

"Are you sure, love?" he growled throatily, taking a big step towards her. You backed up until you hit the wall behind you. Klaus walked over to you, your chests rubbing against each other with every breath you took.

He suddenly kissed you aggressively, taking out all his anger and insecurity on you as he bit into your enticing mouth and began sucking the slowly oozing blood. He groaned at the sweet, addictive taste on his tongue.

With one hand, he untangles your complicated hairstyle and wraps your hair around his hand, tilting your head back. While he was busy fucking your neck with kisses, you took advantage of his distraction, digging your nails into his arms, taking revenge for biting your lip. He hissed, annoyed at your bratty attitude, and pressed his lips to yours again. Once he had distracted you, he gave away two of your dresses and slapped you hard on the ass. You moaned into the kiss, rubbing against him, making him even crazier with desire. He had to control himself before you went too far for him to carry out his plan.

"Such a willing… so needy whore for me." you moaned as he brushed against your core, still teasing you, his fangs on your neck as he bit your skin gently. "What a pity I only fuck with my wife." he growled, pushing away from you and heading towards the exit.

"Niklaus!" you gasped in anger as his body heat left you.

"Put your wedding ring back on, and maybe I will help you with your... little problem." he threw over his shoulder, ignoring your shouts of protest and threats.

He didn't even get his hand on the doorknob when you pinned him to the door, kissing him passionately. He grinned, throwing you onto the piano in the corner as he caught a glimpse of the familiar black gold on your finger out of the corner of his eye. Where the fuck should always be. He leaned over you, grabbing your chin hard to make you look into his eyes. Need and lust shone in your irises, making him harder than ever.

"You're mine. I am the only bloody man who'll ever hear your sweet moaning in pleasure like a whore. Nobody can take you away from me. Don't ever dare to think you can have any lover but me."

"Then stop talking and prove it."

"With a fucking pleasure, love." he growled, kissing you hungrily as he tore your dress in half.

Everybody want to steal my girl Everybody want to take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one cause she belongs to me

Hayley and Jackson's son stayed over at Hope's, and Klaus was more terrified than when he had fought his father. His little girl was playing with some kid. What if he started flirting with her? He had read somewhere that kids that age often find "boyfriends and girlfriends" and call every other person they are friends with that. He wasn't ready to hear from his little daughter that she had a boyfriend.

So ever since Hayley brought him in, he'd been giving the boy a stern look, much to his wife's annoyance. Klaus' reluctance gradually began to turn into indifference when, after hours of time Hope spent with her friend, he did not notice anything suspicious. They'd lasted all day, and there was no indication that the kid would have to be wiped off the face of the earth (or at least taken back to his parents immediately).

But then came breakfast. And Klaus noticed that this kid was staring at you in adoration. And he didn't like it at all.

He was not at all prepared for the insult, the insult directed at him, which the child said after you helped him cut his food.

"You are beautiful and kind as an angel. When I grow up, I will be your husband." Klaus spat out his cup of tea, choking as you tried not to burst out laughing at the 6-year-old's comment and Nik' reaction.

"Honey... but I already have a husband. He'll be very sad if I find another." Hayley called her son, who said goodbye to you and ran to hug Hope before mom took him away. You looked at your stunned husband with amusement. "Well… at least you don't have to worry about him flirting with Hope."

"This kid won't be stepping over the threshold of this house again." he growled, leaving the room to make sure the little one was out for good.

"Niklaus! It is just a child!" you shouted after him, laughing at his jealousy as you ran to make sure he didn't intimidate the poor boy.

Everybody want to steal my girl Everybody want to take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one cause she belongs to me

It's been quite a few years since Klaus' last fit of jealousy. After the (victory) fight against Inadu, you were finally able to enjoy a moment of normality.

You had lunch at some diner in Mystic Falls; you visited Hope at her school, and somehow it happened that a group of her colleagues accosted her. She introduced you, you chatted with them for a while, and everything was supposed to be a normal dinner with your daughter and her friends, until one of them... crossed the line.

"Now we know from whom Hope inherited such loveliness. You are very beautiful, Mrs. Mikaelson."

You quickly grabbed Klaus' hand across the table, politely thanking the boy. Hope, seeing what was going on, escorted her friends away and left you alone for a moment.

"Niklaus, he's just a teenager."

"Uhm." he muttered absently, staring with daggers at the departing boy.

"He could be our son, for God's sake!"

"Most people on this planet could be our children, but that doesn't stop them from flirting with my wife." you rolled your eyes, smiling with amusement as he growled at the boy staring at you when Hope was explaining something to him. The poor guy looked away in panic and ran away as fast as he could.

You were going to scold your husband for scaring your daughter's friends, but you decided to leave it to Hope. The smart girl knew how to talk to her father better than you. Maybe she'd finally knock those stupid fits of jealousy out of his head, with which you've been struggling for 1,000 years.

"Your pregnant wife, I would like to point out. And we're not going anywhere. Certainly not with a teenager." you said, grabbing his chin and pulling him to you so you could kiss him. Klaus grunted, pleased with the feeling of your lips on his, and automatically placed his hand on your yet-unseen belly, smirking as he felt the pulse of the youngest member of the Mikaelson family growing inside you.

"I'm back!" Hope screamed, stepping behind you with a nervous smile. You raised an eyebrow, while looking at your daughter. Oh, no. You knew that look in her eyes. Klaus had the same gaze as he was about to do... something in Mikaelson's style. "Taking the opportunity... I mean, now that you're reassuring dad. Mom, Dad, I have a boyfriend. His name is Landon, and he's coming to the family dinner on Friday for all of you to meet him. So, bye! I'm going back to school. I love you both!" she said, kissing you both on the cheeks and leaving you both stunned. You burst out laughing at Klaus' shocked, defeated expression.

"Nik? Are you okay?" you asked, still laughing. Your husband's patience really was tested today.

"I told you we should stay in bed today. I knew something bad was about to happen." he growled, giving you a menacing look as you still couldn't stop laughing. You kissed the corner of his lips, a huge smirk still on your face. Klaus rolled his eyes but couldn't hold back his smirk any longer while he was looking at you. The power you hold over him... one your smile was easily changing his mood. Even in situations like this.

"Don't be such dramatic. It's probably better that Hope is dating teens than me, right?"

"Stop it, love." he growled, putting the money on the table. He grabbed your hand and led you out of the bar.

"Stop what?" you asked, pretending to be innocent as you strolled towards your car.

"Teasing me."

"But it's my favorite part of the day… and we all know you enjoy every ounce of my undivided attention." you replied, stopping both of you in front of the car and putting your hands on his shoulders. You stared at him with a mischievous smirk, playing with his hair. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he leaned against your car.

"You know you're ruining my carefully crafted reputation as the greatest evil in the world?"

"I'm not too concerned about this… how about you?"

His only response was a light chuckle before he kissed you with all his love for you. You smiled, cupping his cheeks and pulling him as close to you as possible. You both loved those moments of peace between the two of you. No witches, vampires, or werewolves wanting your death. Just the two of you in each other's arms, too busy with each other to care about anything else.

"Let's go home, love. Before that bunch of Salvatores come down here with white oak stakes." he hummed tenderly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

He could stare at your beautiful face for hours. Even if it meant dealing with the people who wanted to steal his goddess first. It was worth every effort to hold you in his arms again.

"I don't think we're on the top criminals list anymore. Stefan was recently joking that you had retired. And before you get a seizure in the middle of town, let me say that I didn't talk to him. Hope is friends with Delena's daughter. She might have overheard something."

"The gods must have punished me in some way for my many antics, so they sent me a wife to teach my daughter how to get on my nerves without even trying."

"Oh sweetheart. I love you too." you laughed as you both got into the car to go home.

Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na Oh yeah Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na Alright Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na She belongs to me

You were sitting in a rocking chair, holding your newborn son in your arms. The baby finally fell asleep peacefully, and you were afraid to make any move after hours of putting him to sleep. It looks like you'll have to sleep in this chair tonight.

"Rescue you, love?" Klaus' soft whisper tore your gaze from Henric Nikolas Mikaelson.

"I'd love to, but I'm afraid he'll wake up the moment he leaves my arms." Klaus slowly walked over to you, kneeling in front of you and gazing tenderly at the baby you held. "I guess you're going to have to come to terms with the fact that you're going to have to share me with someone else." the man rolled his eyes at the comment about his jealousy. He shifted his gaze to you and gently grabbed your hand, being careful not to let any sudden movement wake his son.

"I'll live with it as long as our kids are the only ones taking you from me."

"You are a very gracious, all-powerful hybrid." he chuckled, making a tired but genuine smile appear on your face. "Save yourself while you still can. I don't think I'm going back to bed tonight." you murmured, looking at the little usurper in your arms.

"Nonsense, you are going with me.." he lifted you from your chair with your soft, startled squeal and held you in his arms, careful not to wake your son. He carried you to the bed, making sure you were comfortable. He lay on his side, propping his head up with his hand, and stared at the two of you, spellbound. "You can sleep. I'll keep an eye on you two."

"Remember that your siblings and dad are coming tomorrow. Kol and Davina pick up Hope. And please, for God's sake, don't argue with Kol again about him being Henric's godfather, because we both know you don't want anyone else to take his place."

"Well, we always have Marcel and, God forbid, Finn. Besides, what kind of big brother would I be if I didn't torment him every chance I got?" you rolled your eyes, pressing your son to your chest, and used your free hand to grab your husband's hand.

"I just hope you didn't teach our daughter that."

"I'd be surprised if she didn't pick up on our habits herself." he murmured, kissing your hand and watching you fall into a peaceful sleep while holding your son and his hand. Your rings shone in the moonlight on your joined hands.

Yes... you were definitely belongs only to him.

2K notes · View notes

lovebugism · 1 year

Note

let's just imagine riding steve and every time he tries to put his hands on you you push him back down and ride him harder

✶ ┄ DOWN BOY !

summary: "when you told steve you wanted to be on top tonight, you fucking meant it." pairing: steve harrington /f!reader word count: 0.4k short and sweet super, super smutty warning: smut ofc, steve discovering how much he likes being a sub because that needs its own warning 18+ mdni! a/n: anon... you have no idea what this has done to me. i'm thinking of suing for emotional distress tbh

( STEVE MASTERLIST ) ( MAIN MASTERLIST )

When you told him you wanted to be on top tonight, you fucking meant it.

Steve wasn’t used to being told no, by anybody, but especially you.

His hands ache with the want to touch you — to squeeze his fingers into the fat of your hips and help guide up and down on his cock, to slither up your stomach and chest to your neck and choke you, to grab handfuls of your ass and spread you wide for him.

You downright refuse to let him touch you, though.

When he tries to sit up, to pull you close and press your chest against his as you roll your hips over his lap, you placed firm hands onto his fuzzy chest to push him back down all over again.

His eyes widened when his back hit the mattress, mouth falling agape because he’d never seen you like this — so dominant.

You were usually so obedient for him, so pliable and sensitive and willing. You reveled in all the attention that Steve was more than happy to give you. You loved that he was more concerned about your pleasure than his own — making you come a handful of times before he did even once.

Yet here you were now, robbing him of all the pleasure he could be giving you, as you ride him with the intent to break him in half.

And your refusal rocks his world in the best way possible.

He turns into a whimpering mess beneath you. Pale neck bared for you as he tosses his head back on the pillows, squeezing his eyes shut with heavy breaths huffing through his open pink mouth.

He keeps his hands to himself like a good boy, balling the sheets in his fists, though he desperately wishes it was you he was holding on to.

“I’m gonna... Shit, I’m definitely gonna come soon if you keep fucking me like this— fuck—” The whine he lets out when you clench around him is most pitiful.

You drop yourself down on his cock while you swivel your hips, doubling your efforts at his admission. A growl bubbles in his throat as he realizes that’s exactly what you want — to milk him for everything he’s worth and then some.

You keep yourself tight around him, purposefully fluttering your walls because you know it drives him crazy, while you grind down over him.

You reach for his shaking hands that clutch the bedsheets and bring them to the pillows, pinning his wrists beside his head. Your nose knocks softly against his and your lips graze against wet, plump ones.

“Then fucking do it then, baby,” you tell him.

His heavy, glazed-over eyes find yours. A mixture of shock and unearthly pleasure coats his features when he realizes he’s about to come harder than he ever has before.

Pathetic moans spill from his wet, pink mouth as his hips buck up into yours, desperate to bury himself deep within you as he spits load after load of his come into your rippling walls.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #stranger things #stevie drabble #st drabbles

3K notes · View notes

ki-yomii · 1 year

Text

give it to me | myg

➥ pairing | min yoongi x f!reader

➥ word count | 1.6k

➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), praise kink, teasing, against the wall, dom!yoongi, established relationship, pet names

➥ summary | of course, it’s as you resign yourself to never getting dicked down by one min yoongi (after flashing him your whole bare ass) that the tides turn in your favor.

➥ notes | man’s is amazing at oral, and you cannot convince me otherwise.

💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚

Min Yoongi is unlike anyone you’ve ever dated; always plays the gentleman, eyes and hands kept at a respectful level, albeit unafraid to taunt and tease.

The rest of the boys (mainly Jin) gag at how sickeningly sweet he is towards you, how he lights up the moment you step into the room, all gummy smile and scrunched eyes.

Completely besotted, he is - but then again, so are you.

What he lacks in stature and muscle, he more than makes up for in looks and personality. From the dark halo of hair constantly falling into his eyes, and the plush pout of his lips to a jawline for days; sometimes it hurts to even look at him.

Sassy and savage, witty and wild. Yoongi’s aura practically screams: fuck around, find out.

Yet around you, he’s kitten soft.

The best boyfriend you’ve had by miles: buys you gifts just because he was thinking about you, makes you laugh until you cry, takes care of your needs without ever having to be asked.

You click in such a fundamental way you’ve never experienced before - the chemistry and synergy palpable whenever you’re together.

God, he’s so sweet and earnest and charming.

You’re a total goner… but you can’t help being slightly disappointed.

It makes you feel terrible to admit but you’ve been dating for almost a year, and you’ve been more than ready to kick the relationship up to the next level half a century ago.

Yoongi’s kept everything strictly above the waist (exactly the opposite of what you want).

It’s not because he’s not interested either. Most of the time his cock’s digging into your ass, half-hard and throbbing.

Though every time you finally think, “this is it,” when he starts getting really into it, he pumps the breaks.

Any further advances on your part are met with a tight albeit patient smile, a quick kiss to the forehead, and the mildly hilarious image of Yoongi awkwardly waddling to the bathroom.

Leaving you riled up and alone - again.

Before long you’re going to start taking it personally. You can’t even get off on your own anymore.

Don’t remember the last time you actually had a satisfying orgasm instead of just going through the motions.

Your hands stopped working ages ago, and forget trying to use a dildo. All past attempts at self pleasure have ended pathetically, leaving you hollow and sad.

Honestly, it’s not worth the effort because at the end of the day, nothing compares to the touch of another person - to him.

To the tang of salt on your tongue, the glide of skin on skin, the deep pulses that go straight to your toes. And there’s no replicating that on your own.

You’re so pent up you can’t even look at him when he clenches his jaw or twirls a pen anymore lest you risk embarrassing yourself. Frankly, it’s getting a little ridiculous.

And there’s no escaping the dreams.

You’re convinced your imagination is a cruel, wild thing that loves torturing you.

Not a day goes by where you don’t wake up swollen and aching, desperate to be stuffed full of a cock you haven’t even seen let alone touched.

Of course, it’s as you resign yourself to never getting dicked down by one Min Yoongi - after flashing him your whole bare ass - the tides turn in your favor.

As he drops you off after your date, and you lean in to kiss him goodbye, he pivots and suddenly, you find yourself pinned face-first to the wall.

He’s surprisingly stronger than you give him credit for.

“Thought you were being funny, didn’t you?”

Calloused fingertips drag along the care skin of your thigh, tugging at the dangerously high hem of your dress. The silky material catches on Yoongi’s skin, the flighty touches a punch to the face as a pit yawns into existence deep in your belly.

You stare straight ahead, your teeth chewing on your bottom lip. “No,” you say.

While you can’t see his expression, the low growl of his voice is full of barely leashed hunger. You test the give in his grip, only to find yourself thoroughly caught.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Like hell you don’t,” Yoongi says.

An amused sound rumbles up from the back of his throat as he inches your dress up slowly. You wiggle, a quiet hiss escaping when the cool air dances over the slick clinging to your inner thighs. A flush of heat creeps into the apples of your cheeks.

“What did you think was going to happen, huh?” He tsks. Soft lips brush the shell of your ear. “What, exactly, were you hoping I’d do?”

You breathe, “Yoongi, I…”

With his chest a line of heat against your back, and the deep timbre of his voice low in your ear, it’s hard to form words. You swallow rough, mouth bone dry and stomach swooping.

This is all you’ve ever wanted, and now that you have it, you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“Hm, you what, pretty girl?” A broad palm squeezes between your hip and the wall, cupping your mound and grinding down over the top of your slit. “Was this what you were hoping for?”

God, he’s such a fucking tease.

You whimper, and your eyes slam shut as your pussy throbs once, twice. The friction of your thighs sliding together is eased by how fucking wet you are.

This is really not fair.

Yoongi’s barely touched you, and you’re already desperate to have him wreck you until you’re so thoroughly fucked you can’t move.

Shit.

In response, you tilt your hips back, and widen your stance, “Yoongi, please.”

Behind you, Yoongi exhales as you spread yourself open for him with your hands, exposing your pussy - soaked and swollen.

“Mm.” He hums, running the pad of a thumb along the crease where your ass meets your hip, up to teasingly flick at your oversensitive clit. “Is that what you want?”

“Y-Yoongi!”

Arching into the touch, you bite down on a broken whine. Heat flares to life in your belly, burning brighter as molten desire sweeps through you like a current.

It settles low, deep in your bones until you ache.

“Look at my pretty girl,” Yoongi squeezes your waist, and crouches low, “So soft and needy. Have I been neglecting you, baby?”

A nose drags up the back of your thigh, the heat of his breath puffing across your cunt with a sharp exhale. You jump, and feel yourself clench.

Yoongi groans in response, using his thumbs to test the soft fat of your ass as he takes over holding you open.

Your hands settle back on the wall beside your head, and you wait with baited breath.

“Mm, can smell how ready you are.”

Moist lips trace the back of your leg, open-mouthed kisses dropped onto the sensitive skin. Goosebumps prickle along your body, a shiver shooting down your skin.

Yoongi chuckles, “You’re absolutely fucking soaked - and it’s all for me. Can’t wait to get my tongue in you.” He groans, low-throated and hungry, when your hips jerk in response, pussy fluttering. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yoongi, please,” you beg, eyes damp and limps trembling.

Your cheeks burn and sweat gathers behind your knees, your nerves alight with electricity. You’re so turned on it hurts, your walls empty and aching for anything he’ll give.

“Do something, anything. I can’t take it anymore.”

“All you had to do was ask, baby.”

The only warning you get is a husky murmur of your name before Yoongi dives in, his broad palms grabbing rough handfuls of your ass as he flattens his tongue against you with a firm stroke, tracing the length of your cunt.

The tip spreads your folds, thrusting into you shallowly to tease at the sensitive ring of muscles before flicking up to swirl over the hood of your clit.

A loud keen rips its way out of your throat, lightening crackling down your spine. Legs tense, your hands reach back to yank at his hair while your hips rut against his face, desperately chasing after that incredible shock of pleasure.

“S-Shit, please don’t stop.” You moan helplessly, thighs shaking. You don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to stand if it’s this good already. “Hhah, oh god… Fuuuuck, that’s it, baby. Right there, right there!”

Yoongi pauses, ignoring your breathless protests as he tightens his grip to hold you in place while you squirm and whine. His breathing quickens, deepens.

He sounds so goddamn pleased when he speaks, “Mm, that’s the first time I’ve heard you moan like that.”

“Y-Yeah?” you ask, tripping over the words as your abandoned cunt pulses in time with your thundering heartbeat. “You like hearing me, baby?”

“You know I do.” Yoongi sighs, brushing a sloppy, sticky kiss over your inner thigh. “Sound so fuckin’ pretty for me.”

“Well, if you like it so much then maybe you should –”

You pitch forward, choking on your laugh as Yoongi bares down on you. Strong forearms lock around your hips, tugging you back onto his mouth.

Riled up, he sucks, licks in a frenzy.

And before long, his hands are the only thing holding you up as he devours you with greedy pulls of his lips and messy laps of his tongue.

“Shit, you taste so good,” Yoongi says, sucking your folds into his mouth before letting them go with a pop, “Wanna stay between these thighs for hours, make you my sloppy, slutty little mess. You’d like that, huh, baby?”

All you can do is whine, foggy headed and pleasure drunk.

“Yeah, you like it.”

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi smut #min yoongi x reader #yoongi #min yoongi x you #bts fanfic

2K notes · View notes

nunalastor · 2 months

Note

Eventually the game of rivalry comes to an end. Lucifer for the most part only antagonizes Vox out of pettiness and also wanting to mess with Alastor a little, thinking Vox is just a sort of pathetic simp that can't let go of an old flame. Until the latter tries to do or says something that makes the fact that he is a legitimate creep (he's with Valentino for a reason) sink in.

Suddenly the obsession and the insistence on touching Al and the cameras tracking every inch of the hotel suddenly clicks. The lust and entitlement to another person reminds Lucifer far too much of Adam and he's still soft for Lilith even after all these years, and so the next time Vox tries to touch Al, he loses an arm and gets a shattered screen for his efforts before Lucifer can even think about it. He knows that Al's a mean fighter who can guard himself well, but that doesn't mean he should have to against someone who isn't worth either of their time.

Ironically, THIS is what finally gets Susan to approve of him, when he no longer cares and just wants the game to be over. As a widow of seven, she can respect the hustle of murdering a husband for your own gain (until the end of her days she doesn't realize that Vox and Al were never together).

👀

#hazbin hotel #nunalastor asks #alastor #radioapple #lucifer #appleradio #radio apple #apple radio #radiostatic #vox #the cox chronicles #susan (derogatory)#adam

317 notes · View notes

blegh-110 · 8 days

Text

iv. "i've still got you all over me"

Pairing: older brother's best friend!Sam x fem!reader

Summary: When you try to get over Sam when you were 14 and he was 16.

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1.9k

Your winter break was a bad time for you. There was no escape from Sam.

It seemed like every single day he was over at your house, and what you used to think was a dream come true, it was now a slow torture. You barely saw him during those two weeks, but you heard him. His laugh in the living room, his footsteps walking down the hall, just his very presence, and it killed you for fourteen days straight.

And even when he was gone, he was still on your mind.

You had more than enough of your own sadness by the time break was over. And after the harsh realization that you can’t live your life staying infatuated with a boy who no longer looked your way, you were ready for the upcoming semester. Your focus and undivided attention would no longer be on Sam, but on yourself because you missed being happy.

This determination came from a sleepless night a few days before the second semester began. You were up late just reminiscing about him when you saw how truly pathetic you were being; what were you doing helping him cut his classes just so he could stay in your life? You put off so much of your own life just for him, and none of it was worth anything.

So when school began, you immediately threw yourself back into your academics. That meant no more doing the bare minimum when it came to homework assignments, in class work, tests, quizzes, presentations. You did as much as you could for two reasons: to resort back to your studious self, and to distract yourself from any thoughts of Sam.

Instead of spending your lunch time in the cafeteria, you either went to the library to do some work or went to your next class and ate there, plus more work. And instead of spending your Friday nights and weekends with or thinking about Sam, it became an opportunity to do any extra credit and to get a head start on any assignments.

And in the midst of reverting back to your former self, you avoided Sam at all costs. And it wasn’t subtle.

If you entered the living room and saw him sitting on the couch, you left. If you saw him walking in your direction in the school halls, you turned right around and took the long way to your class. If you saw him in the cafeteria, you would leave and buy a bag of chips and a soda at one of the vending machines instead of waiting in line.

It was difficult to live this way but not abnormal. Before, you were constantly on the lookout for Sam only hoping to see him. But now, you looked around the room just to make sure he wasn’t there as well. And it made you equally anxious and frustrated. When you were actively looking for him he wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but now that you were avoiding him he seemed to be everywhere. It made respecting his wishes to stay away from him a lot harder. Then it got even worse when he suddenly took a strange interest in you, and it once again felt like all your efforts went to waste.

The first time was when he knocked on your bedroom door to hand you your book that you’d left in the kitchen. It was an interaction that ended very quickly with you shutting the door in his face as soon as he started talking. You didn’t do it with the intention to hurt him, you were over being angry with him, mostly(if you thought about what happened too much then you’d resort to holding that grudge against him). It was because you weren’t a confrontational person and any conversation with him would only remind you of how you acted when he was with his new friends.

Then he tried the same thing at school when you were just about to enter the library during lunch when he saw you, but he was stopped by the librarian because the last time he came in he spilled his entire bag of chips on the floor and was being extremely loud.

“C’mon, it was only one time”

“No it was not, Sam. Now go, you’re not welcome here anymore.” She shooed him away with a scowl on her face.

“Please, I’ll be gone in like five minutes, I just need to talk to my friend real quick.” And he gestured to you. The title made your breath hitch, his friend. Since he’d met you, he hadn’t referred to you as anything. And really you didn’t either. Even though it was nice to hear and it did give you butterflies, you just weren’t ready for whatever conversation he wanted to have, so you shook your head before you said “I can’t, I have a test to study for.”

You almost turned back when you saw the disbelief in his face.

Then there was the time you finally gave in to him, but only because it was pouring rain on your walk back home and you failed to bring an umbrella.

It was hard to hear at first because it was raining so hard, but you heard the rumble of an engine next to you then saw a slightly beat up, faded red car. You would’ve ran if you hadn’t seen Sam in the driver's seat with the passenger window rolled down, when did he get a car?

“Get in.” Was all he said but you shook your head once again.

“I’m okay, Sam.” You really weren’t. You were freezing cold and your shoes were really wet, and you were pretty sure all the papers in your backpack were soaked.

“(Y/N), I swear to god, get in the car. I’m not letting you get home like this.” It was a bit aggressive the way he said it, but he looked worried sick. And maybe you shouldn’t have felt this way, but you liked that he was so worried about you. The hope that he still cared about you never died. It was miserable at times, like how you thought he’d magically change his ways last semester and you were continuously let down. But at times like these, there was the smallest amount of faith that barely convinced you that this time would be different. Maybe he still cared about you, just a little bit. And it was that small amount of hope that was enough for you to get in. Then you immediately wished you hadn’t.

It all would’ve been perfect; him saving you from walking in the rain, the warmth, the softest music playing. But as soon as you got in the car, the tension was there, the hurt was still there, and it stopped you from appreciating it all.

“How’s school?” He asked and you wanted to die. Is that what you two resorted to? Small talk? Months ago you would’ve told him without him needing to ask because you wanted to. But now you were afraid to tell him anything, the fear of being annoying and a burden took all the words out of your mouth.

“Good.” You whispered.

“That’s good.”

It was silent the rest of the ride, which was only a few minutes but felt like an eternity. And you were ready to jump out when he parked in front of your house before he called your name.

“What?” You sighed out, exhausted and ready to forget the last seven minutes. Why wouldn’t he just let you go? Isn’t that what he wanted? You to be gone? Why the sudden change of interest? Did he know this was killing you? You just wanted to be left alone.

“I’m really sorry,” That surprised you, very much. So much that your growing annoyance simmered away and you were left confused, “for what I said to you, and-and how I treated you.”

“Oh, okay.” You whispered the only words that made sense to say at the moment because you were at a loss for words.

“I know that I treated you like shit, you helped me cut classes and tried to help me with school and I was acting like an asshole.”

What he said was true, but you still believed that you were bothering him and being obnoxious about it. You also thought how embarrassing it must’ve been for you, a younger girl, to be so concerned with him, an older boy. If there was a younger boy breathing down your neck like it was his job you certainly would’ve told him to go away as well. So you couldn’t really blame him for telling you to leave him alone, but Sam seemed to think the opposite when he saw you shake your head in disagreement.

“(Y/N), stop it. You did nothing wrong, I was doing some shitty things and you were just trying to bring me back. I’d do the same thing if I were you,” You got butterflies from his words, “and I promise, if that happens and you totally fall off the rails, I’ll be even worse.”

Maybe it was because you were the forgiving type, which was very unfortunate at times, and you had too big of a heart to fault anyone, but you hated to hear him talk about himself that way.

“I did those things myself though, you didn’t make me.”

“But I let you do it fully knowing you didn’t want to,” He paused again, “and I know you’ve been avoiding me, and I thought I could ignore it but… seeing you so upset, I don’t know, I hated it.”

You were weak, or maybe you were just young and still so, so in love with Sam and liked the idea of him fighting for you, but you forgave him at that moment. And it was relieving. No more tip-toeing around him or feeling uncomfortable in your own home when he was over. Honestly, you wanted to have this talk with him, but confronting the person who hurt you is never an easy task. And you didn’t think he’d respond well to it.

“Besides, I did miss you.” You rolled your eyes and shook your head again, but with a smile. It was a wonderful thing to hear but you didn’t believe him in the slightest. You could take his apology and his admittance to being a jerk, but that was something else. It felt too good to be true.

“No, I really did! I like talking to you. Your brother’s cool and he is my friend, but he’s not the most sympathetic person.” Now that you knew. He simply could not sit and listen for the life of him, anytime you tried to tell him about your day or how you’re feeling, he just wouldn’t care.

It was silent for a moment after, and you resorted back to that nervousness around him that made your heart pound, but in a good way.

“I, um, have to go now. I have a test tomorrow.” It was true, but you also needed to get out of the car because now you were starting to take in the cozy, warm atmosphere in the small space.

“Alright.”

“Bye.”You gave a smile and a small wave when you got out of the car.

“I’ll see you around, (y/n). Y’better not leave the room if I’m in it, okay? I’ll track you down.” He teased. Or was he being serious?

You giggled at his words, “No, I won’t, I promise.”

And with that, he drove off after you got in the house and you went back to daydreaming about him.

divider by @dollywons , next part may be shorter because this is peak drama in their blooming love story. it's all cute from here. and if you guys want to send any thoughts or anything like that to expand upon, i would love them! these two are my babies rn<333

#hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen fanfiction #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x fem reader #hayden christensen x y/n #sam monroe #sam monroe x y/n #sam monroe fanfiction #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe imagine #sam monroe x you #sam monroe fluff #life as a house

210 notes · View notes