#I swear it’s something about how you draw people it charms me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

outofconcheol · 2 months ago

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Tune In For Love (KSM x GN!Reader)

pairing: college radio host!Seungmin x co-host!reader

genres/au/rating: sfw, mostly fluff, the mildest of angst, idiots to lovers, pg

summary: When you and Seungmin come up with a crazy new idea for your radio show, a week of chaos and unspoken feelings unfolds. As you learn more about relationships, will the two of you tune in for love? Or decide to shut it down completely?

warnings: swearing, fake exes trope, a playlist of seungmin coded songs mentioned, stupid amounts of pining, mentions of relationship drama, they almost kiss, then they actually kiss, one mild (joking ) threat of violence, Jeongin being the best wingman ever, RAIN, Ningning, Joshua, Cheol, and Day6 all make cameos

word count: 2.8k

a/n: happy Seungmin day!! honestly this could have been a whole fic on its own but i'm happy with this cute little drabble! this draws some inspiration from the ex talk by rachel lynn solomon. our boy deserves all the love, i hope you enjoy!

“Okay everyone, this has been another week at The Sound FM, the university’s #1 radio station! ____ and Seungmin signing off!”

Your voice fades out to the tune of the hit that Seungmin had selected for the week, ears perking up at the rumble of the bass and the tick tick tick of the hi-hat. Another Day6 song. Congratulations this time.

“When will you admit that you’re Day6’s number one fan?”

“When you admit that you’re their number two,” Seungmin adjusts his glasses, a devious smirk lighting up his face.

(You were, but you would never give Seungmin the satisfaction.)

“That segment on how to deal with the stress of midterms turned out great! What should we do next?”

You fidget with your pen, tapping it against your notepad, twirling it around in your fingers, before moving to put it behind your ear–

Seungmin’s hands shoot out, fingers clasping around yours for a brief moment, and a shiver runs through you, despite the fact that it was sunny outside with not a cloud in sight.

“I had an idea, actually, well it’s not my idea, Jeongin brought it up..”

For however composed the two of you were on air, you turned into awkward rambling messes when the mics were off. It had always been like that though. You’d been hosting the show with Seungmin for the better part of a year and you still didn’t know why you felt shy around him, or why you’d barely progressed beyond simple acquaintances.

“There’s this girl that uh, he, yeah he wants to impress, so he was asking if our next segment could maybe have something to do with dating advice.”

“That is sooo much better than the segment on recycling tips I was planning,” you nudge him, oblivious to the way his ears turn red.

“Oooh but what if we make it spicy you know? Like approach relationships from a different angle?”

“What angle?” Seungmin rubs at the back of his neck. “As far as I know, neither of us are in a relationship. I mean, right?”

“Right but no one else has to know that! What if we pretend that we’re exes, who broke up? Hindsight is always 20/20, people will eat that up!”

“I thought I was supposed to be the menace here,” Seungmin’s tone is deadpan but his eyes sparkle with mischief.

“What can I say, you’re rubbing off on me Min,” you giggle. “So, what do you say we put your charm to good use?”

“You think I’m charming ___?”

You miss the excitement in his tone, writing it off as enthusiasm for the whole absurdity of this plan.

“Who knows, Min! Maybe we’ll even find people! This is so exciting!”

Seungmin pauses briefly, a choked sound escaping his mouth, but you think you imagine it, watching him straighten and nod.

Laughter fills the studio as you bicker back and forth about what to include and how the next week would go. It was a risk, but you hoped it would pay off — both on the airwaves and maybe even for your stagnant love life. The possibilities were endless.

“Hello, and welcome to Tune in For Love! We are your hosts, ___ and Seungmin, and for the next week we’ll be tackling all your relationship questions and concerns!”

Your voice booms into the mic, echoing throughout the tiny studio, and you take a moment to mute yourself, heart pounding in your ears. Butterflies had begun to bubble up in your chest – you were really doing this.

“You ready for this?” Seungmin’s voice knocks you out of your daze, and you look over to see his lips twist into a lazy smile, running his fingers through his hair.

Fuck. Why did that make your stomach flip-flop?

You give him a shaky nod. It was probably just the rush of trying something new, so different from what you were used to. The simultaneous thrill and terror of dipping your toes into uncharted waters.

Seungmin unmutes the mic, his softer, more melodious voice reverberating into the windscreen. He’d make a great singer, you think. Maybe for your next segment you could convince him to croon on air.

“We’re your resident experts on dating, whether it's still in the early stages of puppy love, the cool cruising of the honeymoon phase, or the bitter sting of love gone wrong. We have all your answers, right here, right now on The Sound FM!”

“Trust me, we’ve had experience with all of those,” you chuckle.

The story just falls off your tongue – a tumultuous end to a relationship that had never existed, one full of angst and heartbreak that even the finest writer couldn’t think of. Seungmin interrupts you spontaneously to respond to your dramatic anecdotes with dry quips of his, and you can’t believe it — you actually sound like a couple. A real couple.

“How was I supposed to know you were allergic to garlic? You let me take you to an Italian restaurant on the first date!”

“As my boyfriend, you should have asked my best friend about my allergies! That’s like standard dating protocol,” you shoot back, making sure to smile so that Seungmin knows you’re not serious.

“Noted, I’ll keep that in mind for the next relationship,” Seungmin grunts, the air becoming thick with a tension you can’t pinpoint.

Clearing your throat, your fingers hover over the buttons of the soundboard.

“How about we take some listener calls instead?”

The line crackles to life, a caller named Ningning groaning about how her girlfriend forget their anniversary and didn’t even apologize.

“It’s an honest mistake,” Seungmin mutters.

“I don’t think so,” you counter, chewing your lip. “It’s important to be considerate of special moments like anniversaries, birthdays. It means you care. I mean Seungmin probably doesn’t even remember mine–”

“October 17th,” he interrupts you, and you go rigid. How did he even know?

I asked Jeongin, he mouths, and it only leaves you more confused. Why would he need to know that? It leaves you more embarrassed that you don’t know his exact day, only that it was sometime in September.

Ningning rambles on, thanking you both for the added perspective and resolving to make things right with her girlfriend. You feel your heart warm at her determination, amazed at the effect that you and Seungmin had already managed to have on your listeners.

Seungmin closes out the show, the easygoing and carefree chords of Polaroid Love ringing into the mic, and you think to yourself, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

As the sun sets, campus comes alive, buzzing with excitement. You glance out the window, watching students filter out of the library, walking towards the commons for a cup of coffee, or hugging outside their dorms. A deep pang of longing hits your gut, not sure whether its from watching them outside or the fact that you’re cramped here in the tiny studio, band posters all over the walls, and Seungmin is playing Love You For A Long Time, Maggie Rogers’ ethereal voice filling the space between you.

“Had to ease you into our next listener call,” Seungmin grins into the mic. “This one is – ouch. It might hit home for some of us, I mean you all.”

“Hi, ___ and Seungmin? I’m Joshua, a senior. I’m calling because I have a dilemma – my best friend Seungcheol just started dating my ex, and I’m not sure how to feel. On one hand I wanna be happy for them, but on the other hand, I’m a mess. What would you do if you found out one of you was dating someone else?”

“Oh.” Seungmin breathes out, and he remains there, lips parted like he’s frozen. An awkward silence falls over the studio, and you’re sure Joshua is blinking on the other end of the line, wondering what the hell just happened.

“I’m not sure,” you shudder, thinking of the hypothetical situation. But it wasn’t so hypothetical. You and Seungmin were free to date people. There was nothing stopping you. But it still felt wrong somehow.

“I would give yourself some space, Joshua. Take time to confront your own feelings about this, and when you’re ready you can decide what to do. Let yourself heal first.”

“That’s a good answer,” Seungmin whispers, and you panic, muttering out a rushed goodbye before cutting the broadcast.

“Wow,” you sigh. “That was, I–, I guess I didn’t think of that when I suggested this.”

“Think of what?” Seungmin’s eyes glimmer with interest, and he leans in closer.

“How shit would get so deep? Like how would I actually react if that happened to me? I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Sometimes this feels almost like we’re not pretending,” Seungmin murmurs, a strained laugh escaping his throat, a mask for the change in his tone.

You’re not sure what you want to say, but it feels like you should say something. The moment hangs heavy in between you two, and you don’t remember how Seungmin got so close, brushing his thumb against your cheek.

“Seungmin, I–”

“You had a piece of hair in your face,” he responds, straightening up to stretch his arms. “It’s late, want me to grab you an americano?”

Shaking your head, you manage to muster up a weak response, telling him to go ahead without you. He nods slightly, before throwing his jacket on and slipping out the door, leaving you alone.

An unsettling dilemma dawns on you – this was supposed to be an act, but why did it feel so real?

“You know,” Jeongin’s loud chewing echoes in the dining hall, Seungmin bristling as he watches his friend stuff five french fries into his mouth at once. “I should revoke your roommate privileges for this stunt you pulled. I thought you were grumpy before, but breaking up with ____ has taken it to a whole new level.”

Seungmin scowls, cursing under his breath at Jeongin. Yanking his headphones out of his ears, the lamenting tune of These Days by Wallows cuts off abruptly.

Outside the rain patters, echoing his stormy emotions. Over the course of the past week, his mood had felt like he was on the world’s most nausea-inducing roller coaster ride. The highs were the times he got to spend with you in the studio, cracking jokes and watching your eyes shine as the two of you came up with the next devious plot for the show. The lows were the knot in his stomach every time someone would call in with a question that hit a little too hard.

After this week, he was glad the show would end, and maybe you guys could go back to the way things were before. That easy, comfortable dynamic that always existed between you two.

“Bullshit,” Jeongin sees the way his eyes zone out, like he can read Seungmin’s mind. “I know you, and I know what you’re thinking and it’s absolute bullshit. You’re in too deep, hyung.”

“I’ll fucking punch you,” Seungmin hisses. “What the hell am I supposed to do, huh? Just spill to ___ that this isn’t some game for me? That my feelings are real? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Hyung–”

A gasp echoes from behind him, and Seungmin turns to see you behind him. Your lip trembles, and you lock eyes with him, a tear escaping the corner before you’re turning on your heels, running out of the dining hall.

Seungmin stands there, frozen with the weight of what he’d just confessed, heart sinking to his shoes. All of a sudden, he feels a sharp jab to his arm, Jeongin’s fist colliding with it.

“What are you waiting for? Run!”

The rain pelts the back of Seungmin’s neck as he runs, indifferent to the fact that he’s probably soaked to the bone, slipping and sliding along the cobblestone. He can make out your figure storming ahead furiously, like you can’t get away fast enough, and he speeds up, panic in his voice.

“___, wait! Please stop.”

His voice turns hoarse from all the yelling, and he’s about to give up, turn back in defeat (and go sock Jeongin cry into his friend’s shoulder), when you stop under a streetlight, your figure slumping.

Seungmin is by your side in moments, not caring that he takes your hands in his, blowing on them to give you warmth.

“Y-you d-don’t even h-have an umbrella, w-what were y-you thinking?” he chatters, and he watches your lips turn up in a smile. But your eyes remain downcast.

“What about you?” you whisper, and Seungmin cocks his head, looking at you in confusion.

“I left my jacket in the dining hall with Jeongin—”

“No Seungmin, I mean what about you?” your voice croaks desperately.

Seungmin takes a deep breath. There was no use in pretending anymore.

“I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do,” he chokes out.

You take his hands in yours and Seungmin feels dizzy. The cold rain no longer bothers him, warmth filling his veins from the inside out.

“You think?” you sniffle.

“I know. I know I’ve been in love with you, since the day you walked into the studio and pitched your ideas for five-star dorm meals.”

“I really like your hands,” you blurt out, and Seungmin’s eyes widen in shock. That was not the response you’d been expecting.

“They’re warm when mine are always cold, I like the way they look when they’re holding a pencil, or when you bring me a cup of coffee. I like your voice too – the way you sing along to Day6 when you think no one is listening, or your annoying little laugh–”

“It is not annoying–”

You press a finger to his lips, and Seungmin thinks he might just evaporate.

“Not now, Min. I’m trying to say something here. What I’m trying to say is that if there’s anything this whole week has taught me, it’s how much I like you. How much I want to have those crappy problems that everyone complains about with you, how much I want to celebrate birthdays with you, and anniversaries with you, and how I think I might collapse inside if I ever saw you with someone else—”

It’s Seungmin’s turn to interrupt you now, cold lips colliding with yours, the initial shock replaced with heat. Your hands burrow into his hair and he draws you closer, hands weaving around your waist. The startled, frantic sounds of your breathing did nothing to help the pounding of his heart, and he wonders if you can hear it too.

In this moment, Seungmin never wants to let go, holding you steady against him even when you part, your breath fanning in the cold air.

“I just, I, needed to be honest. No more pretending.”

“No more pretending,” he smiles against your lips, nudging his nose against yours.

The wet slap of shoes against the pavement interrupts you both, turning to see the Jeongin behind you, Seungmin’s jacket in his arms. He takes in the sight of you two wrapped around each other, a smug grin lighting up his entire face.

“Hell yeah! It worked!”

“___ and Seungmin signing off, this is Tune in For Love on The Sound FM, and we’ve loved having you this week!”

The air in the studio buzzes with a different kind of excitement – the dreamy notes of Hypnotized by The Weston Estate filling up the room.

“Before we go, we have something to share with you–” your voice wobbles, and Seungmin reaches out immediately, squeezing your hand.

“Please send your email petitions in so our show doesn’t get canceled, but we’ve been faking it this whole time. We’re not actually exes.”

You can almost hear the collective gasp across campus, the soundboard going crazy as it lights up with calls.

“We are, as of yesterday, the happiest, and newest–, couple on campus,” Seungmin beams, his pride echoing through the mic and your heart lurches at how right it feels to be his.

You hit the answer button, the lines flooding with congratulations and well-wishes to the news.

“Congrats!” Ningning’s voice echoes. “I always thought you were the cutest together.”

“You make me want to find someone of my own now,” Joshua says in the background, and the studio fills with you and Seungmin’s laughter.

When the last call goes through, Jeongin gives you both a thumbs up, shutting off the soundboard.

You turn to Seungmin, heart racing.

“I can’t believe we actually did this,” he says, half-laughing.

“Me neither,” you reply, a soft smile on his lips. “But I’m really glad we did. It feels… right, you know?”

“Thanks for being part of this with us,” he echoes through the airwaves, his voice sincere. “We’re excited to see what’s next—together. And while the show may be over, we hope you’ll still tune in for love every single week — no matter the topic.”

“Next – how to cook a five star meal worthy of any restaurant using just your dorm microwave…”

a/n pt. 2: As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

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laurfilijames · 1 year ago

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Flat To Filled

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Tig being a bit of a perv. Oral sex (M receiving). Unprotected intercourse. Sex in exchange for a service.

Summary: Your flat tire turns out to be a very happy nuisance, and a scene right out of a porno.

A/N: I got a flat tire a couple of months ago and came up with this idea while waiting for it to be repaired, though sadly not by Jax Teller.

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"You've got to be fucking kidding," you mumbled under your breath, seeing the low tire pressure light illuminate on your dash.

It didn't seem like that long ago you had finished paying off the loan used to purchase the new set of tires, and as you put your car in park and climbed out of the driver's seat, you prayed it just needed some air and wasn't completely flat.

"Fuck."

The tire was smooshed right against the hot asphalt, and crouching down to run your hand along the circumference of the wheel, your fingers caught on a screw buried into the rubber.

At least you weren't rushing anywhere in particular, you thought, having only been on your way to grab yourself a coffee from the cafe in downtown Charming, laughing in realizing the irony in the situation that you were meant to be saving money anyway. The silver lining was that your flat just so happened to take place about two minutes down the road from Teller-Morrow Automotive Repair, and with the sun shining and feeling pleasantly warm on your skin, you didn't necessarily mind going for a walk.

The gates of the entrance were open as you approached, the yard full of Harley's and various members of the nefarious motorcycle club along with some vehicles actually being repaired by mechanics, your presence quickly being noticed by everyone in the vicinity.

"And how can I help you, sweetheart?" a man with black, curly hair and soul-piercing blue eyes drawled, his pervy tone making you grin and tilt your head in amusement as he stood straight from leaning over his bike and puffed his chest out, his hands securing themselves on his belt to help draw your attention to his crotch.

"I have a flat," you began to explain, hooking your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of where your car sat abandoned on the road. "I was hoping someone could take a look and hopefully patch it."

"Yeah, probably, but there's something else I can definitely help you with."

"Jesus Christ, Tig," another man's voice sounded from inside the garage. "Stop preying on innocent people."

The sight of the man defending you made your heart leap into your throat, and suddenly the mid-afternoon sun wasn't the cause of the sheen of sweat growing on your skin.

Messy, blond hair that rested at his shoulders surrounded his gorgeous face like a halo, and if the blue eyes on the first man were anything to admire, his were like looking into an abyss that would swallow you whole.

He didn't shy away from looking you over up and down, a crooked smile dressing his lips that were surrounded by scruffy, bleached stubble, his smile only spreading more to create lines around his mouth when his friend walked past him and slapped his shoulder.

"See, told ya."

He strutted into the garage while still looking back at you obviously, nearly tripping over his own feet, leaving you and the living incarnation of Helios standing somewhat awkwardly.

He nodded his head behind you, "So, what's wrong?"

"Just a flat. There's a screw in it. I was hoping someone would have time to patch it for me."

"Yeah, let me take a look," he grinned again, squinting slightly from the bright sunlight as he wiped his oily hands on a rag he held.

You took note of his slender fingers and how rough and worked yet soft the skin on his hands looked, curious as to what else they were capable of, and how the way the large rings that adorned them enhanced the appeal to feel them on your body even more.

"Is it just down the road?" he asked, beginning to walk over to the wall where a bunch of keys were hung on hooks.

"Yeah, about two minutes," you confirmed, remaining in place.

He held a set of keys up and tossed them up in the air before catching them, "I'll go give it a lift, then. You can wait here if you want. Despite your first impressions they're all pretty harmless."

His smile had you nearly bursting into flames, and holding out your own keys for him to take, your fingers brushed each other, igniting even more heat within your body.

He winked at you as he walked confidently over to the tow truck parked on the far side of the row of bikes, allowing you the opportunity to eye-fuck him just as he had you minutes ago.

Even with how baggy his jeans sat on his lower half, you could tell he had a perfectly plump ass that would no doubt power some hammering thrusts, and his back and arms were shaped nicely by strong muscles that showed through his t-shirt and mechanic's shirt that had the sleeves torn off, making you bite your lip as you thought how this unfortunate event was proving to be anything but.

It didn't take long for him to return with your car being pulled behind the tow truck, flashing you another smile as he hung his left arm out the window, a cigarette hanging from his inviting lips.

You watched the production as a few other mechanics went over and began helping him, the assistance he received allowing opportunities for glances your way, his silent flirting making you flush and shift on your feet.

Within minutes the tire was off and being carried into the bay of the garage, and as he got closer to you, you were able to see the name embroidered in black thread on the right side of his chest.

Jax.

You mouthed it, the whisper of those three letters feeling like silk on your tongue, and you wondered how saying it out loud and on repeat in the throes of pleasure would make him react; all smiles and that boyish confidence shining brightly as he basked in your praise, or a brutal and claiming side coming to reveal itself after being encouraged by your mantra.

He slammed your tire down on the workbench closest to the door and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, smearing dirt and grime across it, and gave you a smile and a nod as he parted those luscious lips and started talking.

"So, you from around here?"

"Yup," you confirmed, placing your hands in the back pockets of your shorts to force your chest out a little further.

He hummed as he started to work, "I would've remembered a pretty face like yours."

"Do you say that to all the girls you help?"

Jax shook his head, his eyebrows rising on his forehead to crease it. "Nope."

He looked completely innocent despite it being a blatant lie that he could barely get away with, and you knew that was exactly how a man like him was likely to get everything he wanted.

"Well, I really appreciate you dropping whatever else you were in the middle of to sort me out," you thanked. "Jax…" you added, his name sounding sinful from how lusty your voice suddenly became.

He tucked his bottom lip in his teeth, smiling big even with the restriction, his eyes dancing and alight with mischief as his hands paused what he was doing.

"My pleasure."

His words were spoken with such conviction, as well as what you hoped was a promise or at least a hint at a request, and for whatever reason, the more you were in his presence and talking to him, the more daring and confident you felt yourself becoming.

"Is it?" you asked, watching as he leaned against the workbench, his forearms flexing and showing off the tattoo decorating his right one, his glare serious and almost threatening while his lips continued to feign innocence.

"I think it's going to be."

Time passed too quickly for your liking, your very effortless and charged conversations with Jax tempting you into driving the pocket knife that you kept tucked away in your purse into one of your other tires just so you could spend more time with him; his efficient handy-work resulting in your tire being back on your car and good as new in the fastest forty-two minutes of your life.

“You're all set there, darlin’,” he drawled, squinting at you in the beaming sun with a crooked grin as he wiped his hands on the rag he pulled back out of his jeans.

“Looks like it. Thank you.”

“You have somewhere you need to be?” he asked, leaning against your car comfortably.

“Not necessarily,” you answered, part of you praying he would extend an invitation to something that involved you staying longer and having those lips that were still curled into a smile pressed against yours. They were perfectly shaped and full and impossible to stop admiring, and the fantasy of learning how good they would feel refused to quit playing in your mind, deeming him a talented kisser without even knowing.

"How much do I owe you?" you asked, the assumption that this repair would cost the equivalent of at least twenty of those speciality coffees you were on your way to getting making a pit settle in your stomach.

His bottom lip tucked between his teeth and he chewed on it while still managing to grin mischievously, the brightness of it reaching his eyes.

"I think we can work something out."

You swore you had to be dreaming, finding yourself being led through Samcro's clubhouse and down a hallway where you were continuously stopped to be pressed against the wall and kissed until you were breathless, the sound of your bodies slamming against the wood panels and your shared laughs drowning out the loud music coming from the common area.

It always felt good to be right, you thought, your speculations that Jax knew how to kiss exceptionally well turning out to be more than correct, the way his tongue claimed your mouth and his lips sealed against yours making you quickly abandon all morals and sense of reality.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he walked backwards with you into a room, the scent of stale smoke mixed with a bit of weed overpowering the hint of cologne that lingered, and once inside, Jax pushed the door shut and shoved you up against it.

He slowly peeled his face away from yours, taking a deep, steadying breath, his eyes trailing from your chest up to your lust-drunk eyes while his arms braced on either side of you to cage you between him and the door.

"We do accept cash, too," he smirked, his smile growing when you laughed and shook your head.

"I'm afraid I don't have any on me…"

"See that's too bad," he said, his tone falsely serious. "Non-paying customers tend to get fucked in a situation like this…"

The emphasis and double-meaning he put on that one sinful word made you ache and visibly squirm, and you did your best to keep your hands to yourself while you waited for him to move first, only to fail miserably.

You gripped at the edges of his gray mechanics shirt at the same time your mouth crashed against his, peeling it off his arms with his help as you walked forward, forcing him backward into the middle of the room where he ran into a chair, causing both of you to laugh between kisses.

Next came his somehow still freshly white t-shirt, the pure glee that overcame you when you whisked it over his head and laid eyes on his smooth skin and impressively ripped torso making you feel dizzy, and trying to get to the rest of him as quickly as you could, you hurried to unbuckle his belt and send his jeans that were already half-way down his ass to the floor.

You glared at him hungrily as you reached out for his hard cock that strained against his loose boxers that managed to be an even brighter white than his shirt, and stroked it through the cotton appreciatively, watching his head tip slightly back and his eyes close as he succumbed to your touch.

"Fuck," he chuckled, his abs contracting as he did, hooking his thumbs in the waist of his trunks to get rid of them.

"May I?" you asked, the innocence in your request contrasting heavily to how impurely you were looking at him.

"Since you asked nicely," he drawled, holding his hands up away from his body to allow you to do whatever you wanted.

With an excited and satisfied grin, you tugged on his shorts, your mouth instantly watering as his cock sprung free from them and bounced wildly before you, his size and girth and perfectly veiny shaft confirming that the man standing proudly naked before you was utterly perfect.

"Like what you see, darlin'?"

Rather than answering, you wrapped one hand behind his neck and pulled him into you, kissing him madly and desperately while your other hand took hold of his silky flesh and pumped him slowly from tip to base, feeling him flex in your palm.

You basked in this for a couple of minutes until Jax regained control and guided you somewhat forcefully over to lean against the edge of the desk that sat against the wall, his thigh wedging between yours as he gathered your wrists in his one hand and held them up over your head, his other one left to trail up your side, pulling your shirt up along with it.

His mouth attacked your neck while he teased you, the sensation making you roll your hips on his thigh to get some friction on your needy pussy, and when he growled as he got to your breasts that you hadn't bothered to restrict in a bra today, you nearly came undone.

"Fuck, you're hot," he muttered, roughly tearing up your shirt to remove it from you, and he took a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him before diving to your mouth again, his hand squeezing at the fullness of your chest and pinching your nipple between his fingers.

You whined into his mouth and arched your back in order to get closer to his touch, your body begging to be used by him in any way possible, this self-made porno you were suddenly living out making you hornier than you've ever been before.

"Are you gonna fuck me, or what?" you asked, his keen attention making you feel bold and powerful.

He chuckled and shook his head, his blond locks moving with the action.

"Patience, darlin'. You need to remember who's paying who here."

You nodded and smirked, pushing off the edge of the desk to take hold of his cock again while you slowly sank to your knees, looking up at him through your lashes to see a very satisfied and eager look on his face.

Pressing your lips against his smooth tip, you spread the precum that leaked from it across them and stuck your tongue out, that first delectably salty taste of him making you swallow thickly as your mouth watered, your thirst for him skyrocketing. You gripped the base of his shaft as you eased him inside your mouth, taking him slowly inch by inch until you reached your hand and your nose was tickled by his flaxen hairs.

Bobbing on and off of his length and swirling your tongue around his head each time you passed it, you worked him steadily with your hand, the sound of his appreciative curses and groans making you squirm and shift on your knees and moan as well, taking him deep into your throat so he could feel the vibrations on your windpipe.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he hissed. "That's it, baby."

His praise sent a shiver down your spine, making your nipples harden even more in addition to you gagging on him each time he pounded the back of your throat, the way he bucked his hips and lightly held your head in place encouraging you to want to be wrecked by him in whatever way he saw fit.

He laughed in disbelief as he gently held your chin and told you to stop, mad at himself for doing it, but not ready to end this with you yet.

"Fuck, you're good. That pretty little mouth of yours sure has some talent," he purred, using his thumb to wipe the corner of your mouth.

"Then you should've let me finish…"

Jax chuckled again as he helped you up off the floor, a sound that made you melt each time, his eyes shining with a playfulness that matched his cheeky smile.

"Oh, no," he said, his eyebrows creeping up his forehead. "Your debt isn't going to be repaid that easily."

Your breathing became shallow as the way he looked at you turned from kind and light-hearted to intense and almost dark, and he grabbed your face and kissed you roughly, stealing your breath from you as he leaned into you in an overpowering way, his cock poking you and reminding you of its impressive size that you were about to have to try to handle.

He snuck a hand between your heaving bodies, cupping between your legs where an intense heat radiated, and began to rub your pussy through your shorts with a taunting pressure.

"This pussy's gonna feel good, isn't it?" he asked, dragging his hand harder over the material that kept you from him, the whole act and his question driving you mad. "I bet it's nice and tight…"

"Fuck, yes…" you whined, grinding against his hand even more, your head tipping to the side in an offering for him to kiss your neck.

He did, granting you one of your many wishes, sucking and nipping at the tender skin where your pulse hammered frantically.

After another minute or two of torture, you raked your nails up along his back, feeling desperate for him to give you what you so badly needed.

"Please, Jax," you begged. "I'm so wet."

He pulled away from your neck, kissing your swollen lips sloppily as he removed his hand from between your legs.

"Yeah? Lemme see, sweetheart…"

With deft fingers he ripped open the button on your shorts and tugged them down your thighs aggressively, his pupils blown wide when he noticed how your slick had darkened your panties and soaked them through completely, the corner of his lips curling upward menacingly.

He leaned in and kissed you again, a little sweeter this time, a display of his appreciation for how ready you were for him and how much he was enjoying this game with you.

That only lasted for so long though, the more he danced his tongue with yours the more he felt completely out of control, the need to drive his cock into you coming to the forefront of his mind once again just as it had since the minute he met you.

He released your cheeks from his gentle hold and used both of them to grab onto the side of your thong, tearing them off of you barbarically, the sound of ripping cotton making both of you more feral than before.

You sat up on the desk, holding his head to keep him kissing you as he settled between your legs, his cock nudging your inner thigh dangerously close to your center. It was all heavy, panting breaths and the sound of teeth clashing together as you went at each other furiously, your fingers making a tangled mess out of those gorgeous blond tresses, your nails no doubt leaving red scratches all over his pale skin.

With a sharp inhale to catch his breath, Jax broke the messy seal of your lips enough to look down at you naked and spread beneath him, slipping his fingers slowly through your wet folds to gather your slick on his fingertips, admiring you before slamming them inside you deep enough that his rings prevented him from going any further, pumping in and out before hooking them to massage your g-spot.

Your cries filled the room, the build-up to this making everything feel more intense than you could bear, your hips moving to meet the tempo of his hand enthusiastically and instinctively.

"You want that dick?" Jax asked breathlessly, his cock throbbing and ready to explode if he held off any longer, the sensation of your pussy clenching his fingers and coating them with your juices making it worse.

He was always diligent about wrapping up when it came to sleeping with new chicks, but something about you made him want to bury his bare cock deep inside you and drive into you again and again, the thought of seeing your cunt leaking with his load sending him into a fury.

"Yes…fuckkkk!" you screamed, your consent barely past your lips as he pushed into you, stretching you out over his thick girth.

A shuddered breath escaped your lips as you sought to adjust to his size, Jax giving you no mercy as he immediately started hammering into you with ruthless force.

By the time he had rammed himself into the deepest part of you, you were both so close to falling apart, not taking long to get each other right back to the edge where you had been left hanging, the rhythm chosen by him and matched by you one that was sure to put this desk through the wall in no time.

It shook precariously beneath you, and it seemed the threat of breaking the damn thing only spurred Jax on more, his brutal thrusts increasing as he worked even harder to ruin you.

His skin became slippery as he began to work up a sweat, your hands gliding over his shoulders and up the column of his neck as you tried to hold on to him as best you could.

His praise at how good you felt was broken up by a variety of curses, the way he sounded as he got so lost in you making the pressure in your core erupt rapidly, and you strangled his cock through your release, soaking him enough for you to hear the lewd squelching through your mind-numbing euphoria.

"Fuck!" he roared, his last thrusts slowing in pace as you coaxed out his end, his cock pulsing inside your choking walls and filling you up with his hot cum in vicious spurts.

His sweaty hair was stuck to his forehead as he leaned it against yours, chuckling while he fought to catch his breath.

"That was…"

"Yeah…" you panted, hardly able to believe just how incredible it was, your whole body tingling and alive with pleasure.

He smiled against your lips before kissing you sweetly, humming into your mouth while he remained inside you, wanting to relish in the after effects for as long as he could.

You made out until he eventually slipped from you, the loss making you whine and you both to slowly cease your kisses.

“I've never done anything like this before,” you admitted, feeling totally liberated in your behaviour as you watched his sweaty, naked, and absolutely perfect form step away from you, his smile beaming at you once again.

He winked at you, “Me neither," and ran a hand through his hair to try to fix the mess you had made of it.

“For some reason I don't believe that," you chided, tilting your head as you remained in your spot, his cum starting to drip out of you.

“You shouldn't," he purred, strutting back over to you, his eyes fixed between your legs where you could tell by his expression that he enjoyed what he saw.

He held your waist, his head tipping to the side as he looked down at you, his voice low and lusty when he spoke.

"Still have nowhere to be?"

---

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90 @paintlavillered @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @theesirenteller

I went ahead and tagged everyone I have written down for my Charlie/Will Miller taglist so my apologies if you're not interested in being tagged in Jax fics and I will happily add or remove anyone as they wish!

#jax teller #sons of anarchy #jax teller smut #jax teller x female reader #jax teller x reader #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam characters #sons of anarchy fic #jax teller fic #samcro

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fatesundress · 2 years ago

Text

⭑ observations ii. tom riddle x reader

part i here.

summary. two weeks after your last encounter with tom shatters all of your previous observations, tensions are high, and eventually, something's gotta give. (it's tom. he’s giving head)

tags. smut (so. so much. minors BE GONE TO WHENCE YOU CAME!), fem anatomy + reader is referred to as a woman by someone, fingering, cunnilingus, piv, again implied tall!tom or short!reader (take it however you prefer), jealous tom does not understand friendship but then again neither does reader apparently, a little wine is had, the room of requirement is used shamelessly as a plot device, did i mention smut, i’ve lost my mind etc etc.

note. this is a part two, so go ahead and read the first part and come back if you'd like :) obligatory preface: it's safe to assume any smut i write within hogwarts is a university au — these people are all 18+ tyvm. also woahh was not expecting the love on my last post so thank you! i'm still trying to figure this whole acc out so support, questions, (requests? never done those before) anything is appreciated ♡

word count. 6.3k

The next two weeks are agony. You don’t, in fact, stop meeting with Godefrey to study, because you do, in fact, still need a good mark in Ancient Runes and for all his faults he can reach the tallest shelves and he’s a faster writer than you. Also, Tom Riddle is fantastic with his hands but this does not make him God.

You find pureblood politics a bit archaic. You find muggle courting a bit stifling. This leaves very little space for what took place between you and Tom in the middle of a corridor two weeks ago (you can’t stop wincing at how insane that sounds) and very little patience for his utterly original and not-at-all entitled request that you halt your studies with Godefrey. Godefrey doesn’t stick his hands up your skirts while the two of you are studying, doesn’t silence your gasps with a shush and a finger to your mouth, doesn’t — wouldn’t (you’re so imaginative when you want to be) — tell you to keep reading as his thumb draws circles between your legs, tell you to repeat the words that get caught in your throat, tell you how much he likes it when your eyes go dumb and glassy and all you can say is his name. So, really, Tom should have nothing to worry about.

“I swear,” Selwyn says, picking at a plate you don’t think she’s actually eaten anything off with how distracted she is, “he’s looked over here at least three times.”

You don’t dare glance at who you know she’s talking about. “You’re obsessed.”

Pot. Kettle. Whatever.

“Are you sure you didn’t do something to upset him in Potions? Didn’t botch something that might mar his perfect record?”

You flick her forehead and she scowls. “I’m not an idiot, Selwyn. I handle myself just as well in Potions as he does — he wouldn’t —” Wouldn’t have complimented your rapport if that weren’t true, wouldn’t have said you communicate efficiently, make a good pair, probably wouldn’t have — fingered you in the hallway? — yes, that too. Slipped your mind. So easy to forget.

You take a long exhale, and smile impassively at her. “I didn’t botch anything, trust me.”

She finally takes a bite of food. “Maybe I did something…”

And then she’s lost in thought again, eating now, at least, and you shake your head softly as you watch what are likely a million different theories flitting through her head.

“Morning,” Tom says to you when you enter Potions after breakfast, a delicate smile tugging at his lips.

You have, of course, trained for this.

It’s your fifth — sixth? — time sharing a table with him since that night and it is somehow easier by nature and harder by anticipation (of what, you have no idea) every time. The first was terrible. Unsalvageable and without a silver lining. It had taken almost an hour that morning to charm the violent hues of red and purple spanning the column of your throat, and ultimately, the marks were so persistent you’d forgone the glamours and decided to just wear a turtleneck. You’d been fortunate it was completely inconspicuous to wear such a thing in December, but that was about all there’d been to be grateful for. You hadn’t been able to look at Tom all class and his hand had brushed yours once to take a phial from you and you’d flinched so sharply it would have shattered on the floor if he hadn’t caught it. And he’d smiled, like he’s smiling now, a soft, “Careful,” that honestly, for a short moment, made you want him dead.

Now you could speak just fine, look him in the eyes in practised intervals, and almost, impressively, make articulate conversation with him again. Make stupid comments about Slughorn and Lestrange and bear the weight of his grin knowing it was there for you.

His, he’d called you. A very funny thing.

“Morning,” you answer on a smiling sigh, sleepy but jovial all the same.

You deserve applause for this.

“Tired?”

“Mhm — Essays for Ancient Runes are due Friday and it’s been keeping us up all night.”

His eyes flash with something you’ve yet to ascertain. Your research has been put temporarily on hold, scattered and splintered by the revelation that your first observation was, admittedly, a little bit off, and you have no means of figuring out a look like that when you can’t even begin to figure out anything else.

“Has it?” he asks, a tinge less friendly.

“Well,” you say, grinding the lacewing flies, “that’s commonplace, isn’t it? You take all sorts of advanced classes, I’m sure you understand the work it takes.”

“...Hm.”

That’s it. That’s all you get from him.

And if Selwyn’s concern over you botching your work in Potions wasn’t already, obviously dispelled, the glee on Slughorn’s face as he assesses your and Tom’s cauldron should do it.

“Brilliant! Just brilliant!” He claps a hand over Tom’s back, regarding you both with pride so thick it clouds his eyes, like he's drifted into a revery of the future (you and Tom, you expect, are his most prized graduates, making history under his name, proving his immense wisdom) before he appears to return to Earth. “Ten points between the two of you, hm? Very, very good — though, of course, no surprises there!”

He chuckles to himself as he evaluates the other students, and you catch a horrified wheeze of Godefrey’s name (bless his heart) as one of the cauldrons in the back begins to sputter and froth.

You look to Tom with some droll little comment at making it to the end of term with top marks, but his gaze is burning into Godefrey’s table in such a way you wouldn’t be surprised if it was what was causing his cauldron to boil.

Well. Perhaps not, then.

You and Godefrey hand in your essay that Friday with more relief than apprehension — you both decide it’s quite good — and you laugh loudly and breathlessly as he picks you up and thanks you a thousand times, spinning you until you’re dizzy. You refrain from making any promises to attend his Quidditch games, but he vows to let you have the snitch he catches.

And Slughorn, you come to find, was not exaggerating his elation at your skill. After trotting after you on your walk back from Ancient Runes to invite you to the last Slug Club dinner of the year, your spirits are high with the blissful satisfaction of a job well done and a night to celebrate it with.

You can breathe, finally, when it’s the last week of school before Christmas break and Selwyn’s zipping the back of a last-minute dress you purchased in Hogsmeade.

“Gorgeous,” Selwyn says with a grin. “Wish this school would have a bloody ball so I could really dress you up.”

“Buy a doll, Selwyn; you can dress them however you like.”

“You are such a —”

You burst into laugher, swatting her wand away as she pokes your side with it.

“Just — go then, before I hex you.”

“All right, all right!” you concede, arms raised in surrender. “Don’t ruin all your hard work now.”

“Oh,” she calls on your way out the door. You turn and there’s a mischievous look in her eyes as she tucks her wand back in her pocket. “And do tell me before I leave tomorrow if Riddle stares at you all night.”

You groan as if it’s a truly abominable thing to imagine. Riddle, staring with those dark eyes of his? You, the centre of his attention? Ghastly. You daresay you’d never recover from the horror of it.

“Don’t leave before I tell you how remarkably uneventful a night it was,” you say with a sidelong glare, and leave before she can edge in the final word.

You have no idea what a Slug Club supper typically consists of, but you imagine for Christmas he’s gone a little further with his festivities. His office is glittering in hues of green and red and fleecy, snow-dappled gold. The lights overheard (some similar charm to the one in the Great Hall but a tad less complex, you think) drip and then vanish into the air like squeezed berries, and the berries — served with pastries and ice cream — taste like they must be enchanted with something.

Selwyn was right that the standard dress isn’t quite formal enough for a ball, but it’s… formal. The boys are in clean-cut dress robes and the girls are in fine gowns of different lengths. By the overwhelming number of them you recall being archetypes of Slytherin pureblood fanaticism, it makes sense how expensive they all look. You yourself brush up nicely, if not a bit more frugally, but you haven’t been to an event like this at the school yet, and that’s exciting on its own.

It’s another degree of training (is there going to be a marathon? Are you at war?), a step up from your preparations before Potions every other day, to be ready when Tom Riddle enters the room a respectable five minutes late with a gleam about him more captivating than any of the lights.

“Ah, Tom!” Slughorn exclaims, and ushers him into a seat you remark before Tom is even in it is discomfitingly near to yours. “We’re all here at last… Supper, then? Hope you aren’t too full already, I’ve got the House Elves running laps!”

You’re spared Tom’s closeness by a Ravenclaw couple sat in the chairs between you, their hands clasped under the table while they sip wine from their goblets, and you only realise the length of your observation when Tom glances at you from the spot over, and you startle yourself into reaching for your own goblet and pretending to enjoy Slughorn’s bitter wine.

You eat. You listen to cluttered, unending tales of Slughorn’s time at school and how he earned his post. You drink, and then you regret not drinking before eating because there’s only a very light, very nice buzz that warms you when you finish your cup, and the Ravenclaw couple is — oh, wait, it isn’t just them — they’re standing up to dance as a gramophone sparks to life and a low, dulcet instrumental begins to play. There are now two notably empty seats separating you from Tom.

What had you said this night would be? Blissful satisfaction?

You couldn’t blame Selwyn for suggesting you’d blundered Potions — you didn’t feel exceptionally smart right now.

“I didn’t know you would be here tonight,” Tom says, pulling the chair beside you.

Where is the bottle of wine? No. Nevermind. You behave regrettably enough sober.

You manage a simple, “And yet.”

“...And yet.” His lips quirk before he takes a drink from his goblet.

You lament for a second that you’ve only actually kissed those lips once. They spent a great deal longer on your neck.

“Will you be here over break?” he asks, and it isn’t an unreasonable thing to ask, you suppose.

“I think so. Why?”

“I’d like to know whether to expect you or not.”

Expect you… No, yes — revert to observation two: unusual is not an apt enough word for him.

It takes you a moment to conjure a response befitting polite dinner conversation. That is, after all, still what this is.

“I suppose you can. I’ll be busy, of course.”

Well, you didn’t say you conjured something good. It’s a big fat lie. Placating, vague, empty. And you suspect Tom knows that.

“Pity.”

Yes, he knows. He’s all quiet amusement again.

You stare off, satisfied to be left alone —

"And what is it that'll be taking so much of your time?"

“Well, I'm —” And now you have to build the lie — “I’ve told Godefrey I’ll attend to his Quidditch practise. Since the pitch isn’t in use.”

God, it’s so stupid it’s almost impressive — you don’t even know if Godefrey will be here over break, and you could have chosen any number of excuses that would pique Tom’s interest less than it’s apparently consistently piqued by the mention of your study partner.

There’s that strange, indecipherable look again. Riddle is a perfect surname for him, you decide then, and you almost laugh at yourself for it, but that would probably not go over well should he ask what’s so funny.

“Have you, now? That’s very kind of you.”

“It’s hardly charity.”

“Hm, it’s kind of you to think so.”

You huff, tipping your goblet back to swallow the last meagre dregs of your wine.

“You look lovely.”

It’s just a little bit — just a tiny, straggling little bit of elderflower that captures your throat — and you cough into your goblet. “Thank — thank you.”

And, well, he looks lovely too. Obviously. Sickeningly so. You know little about his personal life but you’re positive he’s at least a half-blood, if not muggle-born, and it makes you wonder the influence of his renownedly plain black suit in a crowd of neat, long robes.

He manages with little effort to look better than all of them at their best.

His eyes drift over you appreciatively, quick enough not to be rude but — enough. (Enough that you daresay you might never recover from the horror of it.) You adjust under his gaze even when it’s situated on your face, far too heavy a thing for you to carry. “Does Godefrey call you lovely?”

What?

You blink at him, your mouth is probably open and you probably look stupid but he’s so… irritating. Yes, of course Godefrey calls you lovely. Godefrey tells you you’re the smartest woman he’s ever met (after his mother), and he drowns you with sherbet lemons at no cost, and he writes at the speed of light to match the quickness with which you recite your textbook, and none of it means anything. Tom is just —

“Unbelievable…”

He quirks a brow. “What was that?”

“I said you’re unbelievable, Riddle. Is it impossible for you to comprehend that I might have friends? That Godefrey is my friend?”

“Well, memory serves me right that you seemed a bit confused on the conventions of friendship last you mentioned it. Do forgive my uncertainty.”

He — that was —

“Well, that’s because we are not friends.”

“No.” He leans in. “We are not.”

You push your chair from the table with all the grace you can manage for such an abrupt thing: a tight, impersonal smile on your face as you walk away and approach Slughorn, only realising when you get there that your empty goblet is clutched in your hand like you’re trying to strangle it.

Whatever he sees on your face, he isn’t drunk enough not to frown at. “Ah, our newest gem — hardly seen you all night! Not leaving already, are we?”

You glance at the clock. It isn’t as though you’re being impolite by abandoning his party in the middle of the event. It’s quite late, the servers are stuck to the walls with little to do, and most of the room has divided into waltzing pairs.

“I’m taking my friend to the train station tomorrow, sir. Unfortunately I need to be up quite early.”

Yes, yes, it’s all so tragic. You’re depressed to go.

“Such a shame,” Slughorn frets, wobbling a tad and balancing himself on the wall. “You’ll be all right getting back? Not at all dizzy, are you?” His laugh is cleaved by a loud hiccough, and then he laughs even more. “My, well, I myself will need to be carried!”

“...I’ll be fine, sir. Thank you.”

“Oh, no trouble at all — there’s — hm… ah, Tom!”

No, no — is it bad you almost reach over and slap your palm over your professor’s mouth? Is it at all impressive that you don’t? You should look on the bright side in moments like these. You should admire your restraint.

But of course, Slughorn’s eyes don’t fall upon Tom for nothing. He's halfway across the room already, and Slughorn must have spotted him approaching to achieve this brilliant solution. “Tom can escort you back, no?”

Tom (unforgivably) is beside you now, a very mean, very pretty smile on his face.

“Not too much to ask, I should think? You know the castle best. Head Boy — sometimes I still can’t believe it!”

You look up at Tom and your jaw is clenched where you’ve since put down your goblet. There is too much tension in you to know what to do with, and he looks positively thrilled.

“It’s hardly charity, sir.” He holds out his arm.

You wonder what spell would catch him most off-guard if you were to blast him in the face right now.

Slughorn claps his hands together. “Ha! Yes, well… perfect, then! Off now, the two of you, off now. Do have a good — ” He hiccoughs again — “rest!”

You don’t even bother the diplomacy of smiling at Slughorn as your arm loops through Tom’s and you’re exiting the party.

Neither of you say a word on the journey, and that’s very well.

If you could just get back to bed without speaking to him you may still consider it a good night. You may be able to push his strangeness and his entitlement and the annoying way his hair falls to another day, when he pesters you about Godefrey’s nonexistent Quidditch practise, which — come to think of it — you do think he told you he'd be headed home for the holidays. You really fumbled that one.

And then Tom’s thumb is brushing the bare skin of your arm and your walk stutters a bit. But he doesn’t mention it, and so neither do you.

And then he’s drawing down your elbow to your forearm so softly it almost feels like he isn’t touching you at all. He doesn’t mention it. Neither do you.

And then your arm, without really meaning for it to, is slipping from his and his hand is holding yours instead, feather-light as his fingers clasp yours and your breath is not the same as it was when you left.

He doesn’t mention it. He just keeps going.

His fingers work back up your arm and you shiver as they drag across your shoulder, gaze searing your neck as the soft digits find their way to your jaw, and you get the sense he’s remembering just how much he liked the taste of it, and you’re… you’re allowing it all again. You’re leaning in, you’re seeking him out, you want him flush against you and even that might not be satisfactory.

You are, in the end, a half-decent observer and a terrible liar.

You’re grabbing his hand with a small amount of direction and a great deal of meaning. You suppose it's because, historically, you’ve proven to have trouble with words in moments like these, and you don’t really know where you’re taking him but god, you know where you want him. Somewhere soft, this time, thick enough that you can fist your hands around it and melt. Somewhere he can hover over you, maybe hold you down a little, just until — maybe, miraculously — you might make him break a little too. Clamber over his lap. Make him yours.

“Tom,” you mouth, some question in the way your eyebrows knit.

The moment you say his name — the instant — he’s pulling you in, crushing his mouth against yours. And, ah, right, that’s what his lips feel like. You’d almost forgotten.

This kiss is not chaste, hardly tender. It resists in that it asks you to push, to plead, to take this for yourself to prove how badly you want it, and he smiles into it when you do. And then, sated by your efforts, he lets you have him. You’re gripping the collar of his suit in your hands as his wander appreciatively over the back of your dress, pulling you into him as the kiss deepens. He’s savouring you like you’re something religious that’s been offered to him, and there’s the taste of wine on his tongue and you’re still here, aware enough that the symbolism isn’t lost on you.

“I've been thinking," he says between kisses, “about the way you felt when I touched you. I've been thinking about how long it might take before you need it again."

You gasp at the sensation, and god, god, you've been wondering too, haven't you?

You’re pulling him impossibly closer and something hard is pressing into your hip and you clutch tighter onto his shirt as you moan into his mouth. You need it off, you think, and — has your dress been clinging to you like this all night? You need that off too. You need skin on skin. You careen him backwards without aim, your mind a muddled mess of all the many things your body is screaming it needs, like this is fucking imperative; to give it up would be catastrophic.

You suppose, based on what you’ve read, that that’s how the Room of Requirement works, but it’s still funny to think it would apply to this.

It hurts to remove yourself from him to watch in dumb awe as the door forms in the stone (to see the dark, languid shape of his eyes bearing down on you, the wet, stained pink of his lips), and Tom seems to recover from the revelation much faster than you.

His mouth is on yours once more, a hungry kiss; his free hand at your waist, guiding you through the door and shutting it carelessly behind him.

He’s like fire against you, radiating as he presses down on you, his hand tangled in your hair and his hips flush against yours. You shiver as his mouth starts to move down (a cheap trick — he hasn’t forgotten how much you liked it the last time) from your jaw to your throat, as his lips trail down your chest and you're shivering into the warmth of him.

You’ve heard it said before, in some romantic sense, that it’s sometimes hard to tell where you end and someone else begins.

This is not like that.

You've never been more aware of anything than the point where you and him meet.

You’re tugging at him blindly again, trusting in the nature of the Room like this isn't the first time you've been in it, and then you're stumbling down onto a bed you're quite sure wasn't there a moment ago (people say magic is a neutral force but evidently this is not the fucking case), fingers carding through Tom's hair as his body pins you into the mattress.

His mouth is molten hot as you squirm and pant beneath him, your breath coming faster than it ever has. Everything feels sharper and deeper and more intense under his touch, every sensation heightened until it's almost impossible to tell pleasure from pain, his tongue from his teeth.

How did it take you this long to do this again? To need him like this?

And his — you should really have the mind to see the mistake in all of this but perhaps that's for later — his fingers are pulling your sleeves down, propping your back to arch as he reaches under you to unzip your dress, apparently too impatient to sit you up and take it off properly so he just bunches it around your waist instead. There’s a moment where he stops to look at you, your chest exposed to him in the dim sconce-light, and then his mouth returns to circle your breast and you're biting down on a pillow to hold back the whimpering gasp that seeks to escape you. He hums around your flesh, and then he’s at your sternum, kissing a stripe to your belly button before pushing past the dress he's left ringed around your abdomen.

You shimmy under the weight of him to prop your head up — to see past the mass of silk that obscures his face from you as moves lower and lower, hands spanning your hips to keep you still.

His face hovers above your thighs, and he doesn’t move.

“Did you enjoy my fingers?" he asks.

At that you freeze, thighs pressing together to bury the hand that's rising between them.

Tom smiles. “Hm, you did."

And then he spreads your legs apart, one hand pushing your underwear aside and regarding you with delicate, shameless appetite — something that might even be adoration: like this is all he ever wanted you to want.

“Do you think you'd enjoy my mouth, too?"

Words are gone. There's nothing left in you.

His head moves happily between your knees, holding them apart, pressing kisses to the base of your thighs. Your hands flail from the sheets, desperate to grip something else and you hold back a sound that feels like irritation and need at the same time. You need him closer, higher than this. He knows. You can feel his smile biting into your skin.

And then you manage a nod though you're not even sure he's looking at your face anymore (and what a picture to imagine he is) and you worry momentarily it won’t be enough for him — that he’ll ask you to be nice and say it out loud for him — but he hums with something merciful, and — his chin dips. You catch the smallest glimpse of his tongue before it’s on you, wet and slow and unrelenting and you say his name, but it’s a mewl; you choke on it. It sounds like a cry.

Pitiful, needy, undone. Just how he wants you.

You think all efforts to remain even remotely composed are thrown to the wind as soon as his tongue is lapping at you, fast and then slow, everything you want and not even remotely close. He sinks all his weight down as if he can predict the moment you'll writhe before you do — and you do. And with his grip he tells you to endure it. You only need him to say it with his hands and his mouth but he breathes back, licking his lips and he actually says it. “Be good.”

That makes your breath hitch and your cheeks swell impossibly hotter, and reality is a small glint in your peripheral where everything else is burning red. “Y-you’re—”

His mouth returns to you, tongue catching your clit in a drawn-out, agonising motion, and you gasp and lurch forward to inch through the sensation, craving more, more, more. Reason is lost on you, a throbbing familiarity forcing you to grind your teeth down on the pillow to stop yourself from telling him to — you don’t even know. Finish you. Abandon all reluctance. Just let you come as hard as you know he wants you to.

But he pauses, observant as he starts to work his fingers against you. Watching how your slick coats them like it’s the most enthralling sight he’s ever witnessed. Slowly, ever so slowly, he starts to push one inside of you, hearing your breath catch above him and the moan that comes tumbling out of your throat, pillow be damned.

You do your best to breathe through it, and you know he knows how to make you unfold like this, so the meticulous lightness of his ministrations tells you he’s trying to keep it from you now. You’re almost embarrassed about the fact that you’re dripping onto his hand regardless; his lips puffy, his gaze unnervingly, dizzyingly carving you in two.

“Just,” you rasp, clutching desperately at his wrist. “Tom, please.”

Your begging must be music to his ears. (It’s a rare, unplanned fifth observation: that you think he’ll never get tired of hearing you say his name like that.)

He adds a finger. It’s encircling you, first, and no amount of restraint can stop the harsh gasp that leaves you, but then it’s his tongue and two fingers and he’s pushing into you how you wanted, and he makes a pleased sound against you, gripping you tighter with his free hand, still not allowing you movement and fuck, are you trying. What you're feeling now — the need, the want, everything — is more than rational thought. Your mind goes blank, and all that matters is this, him, right here and now; nothing else exists, not even for a second. You moan, a low, throaty noise that's a little too loud, a little too intense; you can't recall if anything has ever come from you quite like it and Tom devours you at the sound.

More, you agree; it's almost an obsession in you now; more, more, please, anything and everything.

It’s the precision of his touch — not some bored, hurried transgression — that brings your hands helplessly to his hair.

“Tom,” you whine, holding him tight, and the purr of his mouth finding you again is something destructive.

As soon as you feel another swell of something deep down, your mouth is dropping open.

His tongue is sliding through you, fingers curling, and then your clit is in his mouth, and he’s watching you between your thighs as your eyes clench shut, and you’re coming.

Your voice breaks somewhere in the catastrophe of it. Your body spasms, electric down to every atom, and he pins you down through it. He doesn’t grant you the reprieve of escaping the frenzied, glorious torture of it. His mouth still lingers. His tongue moves thankful and unrelenting.

He takes all of you, and you think this is destruction — creation — both. How terrifyingly similar they suddenly feel.

His lips are swollen and slick when he finally detaches them from you and you want to kiss him, but he’s leaning back to admire his work. You swallow, unable to blame him for it because you look down at yourself and — this is something else. You’re dripping down his chin. You're shaking. Your legs are still clenching around his torso. They’re holding him so tight you can’t imagine it doesn’t hurt.

But he just rolls off of you. Adjusts his trousers and your abdomen flutters and you think, don’t.

You don’t even realise you’re reaching for him until your hand is around his wrist and you’re still fucking sighing through the come-down, panting into the hot air.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, fingers damp on your chin as he holds you. You make a note that that’s the second time he’s done that. That you thought it was strangely intimate the first time and nothing’s changed other than how much more you like it.

And it doesn’t really feel like you can help it but crawl with gooey, trembling legs onto his lap. Doesn’t feel like you can help it when you lean in and capture his lips with yours, moan unabashedly into his mouth at the stiffness that presses against your core when you do, steal his tongue and the taste of you on it.

When he pulls away he’s looking at you like he doesn’t think you can actually do this. Like you’d just crumble the moment you tried.

A low, determined protest rises in your throat and you’re kissing him again. You’re unbuttoning his dress shirt, you’re trembling to reach for his trousers.

When you can finally shrug his shirt off, press yourself against him, feel that skin on skin you wanted so badly, you find it somehow even more suffocating than its absence. You’re left wanting a more you aren’t able to even conceptualise, but you’re grinding involuntarily against him and his teeth are scraping your neck and he's hissing at the sensation, and — yes, there’s more.

Your breath is staggered when your hips stutter into a roll and you — fuck. You’re tugging desperately to remove his belt and he smiles against your throat as he takes your hands and guides them to him. You can feel his bulge against your thigh and you’re spreading your legs to usher him where you want, clawing at his chest without even meaning to.

Tom’s taking off his belt, and he’s pulling down his trousers just enough to bare himself to you, and maybe he’s right that you can’t manage it yourself but he stops his assistance like the intrigue of finding out is too good to resist. There's something both intimate and imperious, in a way, about the way he's looking at you now; it's a kind of focus and intensity and withheld hunger just for you; and you're more than happy to give yourself over to it, to let his hands and his eyes and his mouth claim you for his own. To claim him for yours, at last.

You do. You struggle for it. He’s very patient.

But then it’s there — more — as you finally sink down on him and bite his shoulder and he shudders a low, pained exhale, his hands clutching your waist.

There’s a silent, suspended moment where neither of you move. The room feels entirely still.

Your lips quiver over his pulse, and your stomach flips at the intensity of it, the undeniable rate of his desire beneath you. You smile against him now, like he always does to you, conscious enough to mumble into his neck, “Mine.”

Tom stutters inside you, fingers gripping you impossible tighter as you dare to think he even gasps. You dare to think he likes it.

And then one of his hands grabs your jaw and his kiss is searing. He thrusts upward and you cry into his mouth, searching to match his pace in a way that you appreciate, for once, he seems unlearned in.

It’s all a bit messy, a bit new, palms in fists, in skin, in hair, digging for every part they haven’t already taken from. The sound in the back of Tom’s throat is divine, the feeling of him inside you as he slips his hand back between your legs — like he needs everything, like he knows you do too — it’s ineffable. It coils somewhere deep, touches something you didn’t know existed. Your hips are rotating, thighs still soft and slack from coming apart on his tongue, but you’re determined. It feels like finding even ground. It feels like something you deserve: to make him feel how you did.

Your head rolls back, eyes pinching shut in bliss, but Tom is there at your jaw again, forcing your blurry gaze back to him.

His hips are inching even further, the intensity of his pace as he adjusts to you making you dizzy. You think, realistically, there’s sound coming out of you, but you aren’t entirely sure when it’s so close to him, when your mouth is between his fingers and your ears are ringing and he’s looking at you like you’re made for him.

“Mine.” And it isn’t a dismissal of your own claim but a confirmation that one will not be without the other. His voice is raw and breathy and something about the way he says it makes you contract inadvertently around him, hands swatting his chest like they don’t know what else to do. There’s just too much.

You recognize you’re trying to say something. Some plea, a moan, his name (is there anything else left?), but you’re just babbling into his mouth and he holds you there. He doesn’t kiss you. It’s your failing words against his lips. He swallows whatever syllables try to shape them.

It’s there again when you need it most; the heavy, swirling feeling inside you as he snaps his hips, his fingers returning to your waist with punishing firmness. His breathing accelerates, low in his throat, and you push harder against him. Your vision is gone again, head held in his hands to keep from rolling back so that, you suspect, he can watch defeat split you down the middle again — not over your shoulder, not with his head between your legs — with his eyes on yours, with every broken moan you let out so close to his face he can feel the breath of each one.

You’re grappling desperately at skin that doesn’t feel like enough, even though he’s rocking inside you, and you see the insanity of it, you see that it isn’t logical. Too much and not enough at once — you’re smart enough to know that doesn’t work, but it just is.

“Please,” you manage in a voice you don’t recognize. “Please, Tom, pleasepleaseplease —”

Had you said before it was foolish to call him forgiving? You take it back. He’s very eager to oblige you.

He finds some place inside of you and you don’t know quite what it is that he changes but it's new, uncharted, and you break there. You dissolve. You’re liquid in his hands as you sob, stuttering around him, trembling like you didn’t know was possible, and you swear — you swear you’re going to take him there with you. It isn’t that you could stop yourself if you tried but your body is gripping around him, fingers carving halved spheres into his skin, and you’re pushing down on him through the ecstasy — you’re forcing your eyes open so he can see you break, watch them flutter back all soft and pretty.

And you're sated by your ruin when it ruins him too.

The sound he makes is ragged. Undone. He can only bury it halfway with a kiss you think is actually more of a bite, twitching inside you as he fucks you through it.

You’re both lost in each other for a moment that feels detached from time, feeling his hips stutter to a halt, feeling your body soften. And he’s pulling out of you like it hurts, mouth falling open as he does. You wince at the loss, the sweet soreness between your legs, and you’re held only by the weight of him. You think — and you actually sway like the mere idea is too strong — that if it weren’t for his hands, you’d fall flat off the bed.

But he sort of lifts you off him, lays you down and watches you for a long time as if to decide something important before he's laying down beside you. You watch him too. His fingers brush your hair out of your face, and when there’s not a single curl left clinging to the sweat on your skin, he continues anyway. You let him trace your lips, your jaw, your nose, and somehow, a bit terrifyingly, your final observation: nothing about it feels unusual at all.

You did say he was yours.

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle smut #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle #voldemort #voldemort x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle oneshot #NO LONGER!#but it is only a two-parter sorry. this is it #harry potter fanfiction #wizarding world

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neteyamkink · 2 years ago

Note

cold neteyam meeting the clan’s sweetheart and having a soft spot for her but tries not to be obvi with it (everyone can lowkey tell though through the little gestures he does) that ends in smut when theyre alone and he wants to corrupt her innocence and reputation👀👀

OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCHHHH THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!! sorry this took me so long i’m so slow 😭

paring: aged up!neteyam x metkayina reader

warnings: mean neteyam :( (he’s in love though), my first time writing smut in veryyyy long >.<, degrading, use of “slut”, “princess”, “sweetheart, lil corruption kink?, swearing ofc, disgusting smut idfk

At first, you thought it was the new environment making him so distant and rude. Eventually, you started to think it might've been just you, he had no problem talking with anyone else in the clan. Just you. Little did you know the reasoning behind that was that he was in deep denial about his feelings towards you. He hated the way you made him feel so vulnerable and helpless. So he had to hate you, right?

You'd try to reach out to him and try to start a conversation, but he would always turn you down with a, "I'm busy," or, "leave me alone." You couldn't lie it kind of hurt your feelings. everyone loved you, how could he not?

One afternoon most of the young adults and teenagers were hanging around a fire, the sullys and all of your friends included. You sat there crushing up herbs to make spices and listening in on the conversation everyone was having.

"Y/n stop being so quiet," Kumi spoke, you didn't like Kumi very much only because he was a part of ao'nung’s little bully crew.

"I'm busy, I'm listening though," You smiled still trying to be nice to him even though you really just wanted to tell him to fuck off. What can you say though? You were minding your business obviously focused on something else.

"Oh come on since when were you anti-social," Kumi laughs, now he has interrupted the group's conversation and everyone's attention was on you two.

"I'm not, sorry I'll chime in," you quickly said realizing this whole thing was interrupting the group. You hated yourself for apologizing for being busy, but you didn't want to disturb the group and make a big deal out of the whole situation.

"Why are you making her apologize? She's obviously busy dumb ass," Neteyam suddenly chimed in. Your eyes shot up to him, but he was already looking at you. He scrunched up his face and looked away crossing his arms.

"oh no it's okay, neteyam," you scrambled to find the correct words and suddenly your heart was running miles a minute.

"Whatever," he scoffed not bothering to look in your direction. Suddenly your heart felt like it was dropping into your stomach and the frown that was on your face was inescapable.

Later in the day after the fire, you decided you would figure this out. No one is allowed to not like you. Neteyam usually would go into the trees to practice archery late after dinner. Even though he had to learn the ways of these new people he was determined to not forget the ways of his own. How did you know this? Kiri is your new best friend.

Determined to befriend the forest boy you set out into the forest to find him, and of course, he was exactly where Kiri said he would be. You decided to sit back and watch before going up to him. He set up a practice station with a bunch of fruits hanging from trees. You watched him draw back his bow and arrow, His back and arm muscles flexed and his blue skin looked so glossy and smooth under the moonlight. fuck y/n, focus. He released his arrow and it went straight through the fruit and into the tree behind it.

"Impressive," you spoke up slowly walking out of the tree and bushes you were behind. His head snapped in your direction and once he saw who it was he rolled his eyes and took a breath.

"I didn't mean to scare you," you smiled sweetly, attempting to use the charm that had worked on others on him.

"You didn't," he scoffs grabbing an arrow from the group and pulling it through his bow. You thought archery was so cool... and he looked so hot doing it. focus, y/n.

"what are you doing here? how did you find me?" he asks releasing his arrow and landing it perfectly in the middle of the fruit. damn, he's good.

"I came to talk to you about something. Kiri told me where you might be," You spoke stepping a little closer towards him. He didn't look away from his targets.

"I hope you know earlier today was not me defending you. I just don't like kumi," though his tone was even and calm his words were harsh and hurtful. Does he really not like you that much?

"Why are you so mean to me?" You randomly blurted out with a pout formed on your face. Your mouth moved before you could think about what was coming out of it and as soon as the words came out you wanted to shove them right back in. You usually were never this straightforward or harsh with anyone. He turned to you and quirked his brow like he was shocked.

shit was he being too harsh? he thought. He just couldn't stand the way you made him feel. The way the innocent look in your eyes made his insides all tingly. The way that one look made him want to get on top of you and ruin those innocent eyes. fuck those eyes that you're giving him right now. Why do you have to torture him like this?

"Am I really?" he said dropping his bow and taking steps closer and closer toward you. Suddenly your throat was dry and you swallowed the lump in your throat. You took steps back as he got closer, too scared of what you might do if he got any closer. Too scared of what those yellow eyes burning through you might do to you.

"mhm," you hummed, heart racing as if you had just run to the moon and back.

"I can show you mean," he smirked. a gasp left your mouth when your back suddenly bumped into the bark of a tree, he had you cornered. And fuck you don't know what he meant by that but whatever he did you wanted it so badly. He looked as if he was going to eat you alive and my eywa you were begging he would.

"teyam..." you stuttered, putting your hands up to rest on his chest. "Teyam, please," you wrapped your arms around his neck. You were practically begging him to ruin you. your eyes looked up at him through your eyelashes, bottom lip slightly jutted out in a pout. Fuck you drove him crazy.

"Say it," the smirk plastered on his lips makes your knees grow weak and you almost buckle over.

You can speak so you just push his neck down and smash your lips onto his. He wastes no time responding and kissing back. His sweet lips were rough against yours and the only thing you both could think about is why you didn't do this sooner. Everyone saw the tension between you two except for you. In the back of your mind, you knew you had been waiting for this moment.

"jump," he mumbles against your lips. You're quick to follow his instructions and jump, his strong arms catch you his hands have a firm grip cupping your ass. The tree you are pushed up against rubs against your porcelain skin.

"All you do is act so sweet and innocent around the others. I know what you really are," he speaks in between sloppy kisses. His words go straight to your brain and suddenly your head is all fuzzy and wonky. He moves from Your lips down to your neck, and your neck down to your collar bone, and your collar bone down to a little above your breast. then he repeats kissing, sucking, licking.

Your hands tangled in the back of his hair, and his braids felt rough in your hands. Your lips parted slightly to make way for the small hums and moans falling from them.

"need you right now, mk?" neteyam backs away from your neck to speak. you nod without hesitation, fuck you are so ready. The pool between your legs had been forming ever since he backed you into the tree.

"use your words, princess," The nickname darted straight to your pussy.

"yes, I need you," you spoke trying to pull him closer to you. He let out a low groan and reached one hand down to your loincloth, His big hand dragging across your wet slit.

"fuck," you gasped and bit your lip.

"All this for me?" he questions his lips curving into the stupidest grin. You simply nodded and tugged his hair tighter. He circled his finger around your clit a couple of times, making sure to get you nice and wet. small moans escaped from your mouth as you pawed at his loin cloth ready for more. You could feel him painfully hard against your palm.

“need you teyam,” you choked out, practically begging him to fuck you. He stopped his movements around your clit and looked you in the eyes. He was ready too. You looked up at him and batted your eyes, your eyes begged him for something- no… anything more.

“fuck, okay,” he quickly gave in undoing the knot of his loincloth with his free hand and letting it drop to his feet. He grabs his cock and lines it up with your entrance rubbing it up and down your slit. His hands practically shook with excitement.

“you sure?” he asks pausing before he goes any further. Without hesitation, you aggressively nod your head.

“words, ma ‘evenge (my girl),” the nickname drove you crazy causing the pool between your legs to get bigger and bigger.

“yes, teyam please,” you pleaded hands gripping the hair on his neck tighter. Immediately he was bullying his cock through your walls. When he entered you, you both gasped out of pleasure. The feeling of you being filled up makes your head go spinning, and the feeling of your warm walls around Neteyam makes him dizzy.

“oh, my eywa,” you whimper as he slowly pulls out and quickly snaps his hips back into yours. Your head swings back into the tree behind you and he uses both of his hands to cup for ass to support you. Back aching from being forced onto the rough bark behind you.

“Fuck baby,” he groans increasing his pace with every thrust. His nails dug into the plush of your ass and he couldn’t help but bury his head in the crook of your neck. Kissing, sucking, licking, and sometimes sinking his sharp fangs into your collarbone.

“You feel so good,” you whine bucking your hips up at him to meet him halfway, your body was begging for more.

“I need more,” you pleaded pushing his neck closer to you and shoving his body against yours, leaving sloppy kisses all over his shoulder. You needed to be closer to him, you needed to feel every movement he made, hear every breath he took, and kiss every inch you could.

“I know you want it so bad, huh baby?” his voice sounds sympathetic but he’s just being a meanie. His thrusts grow faster and faster, harder and harder. Your eyes roll into the back of your head due to the amount of pure bliss you were in.

“Fuck I been waiting to fuck you for so long. Ruin that pretty little innocent act you put on,” he practically growls into your neck. Your nails dig into his back.

“Please ruin me,” You begged, he scoffed at how needy and pathetic you were for him. He knew you weren’t as innocent as everyone made you out to be, so he was gonna fuck you like you weren’t.

“You’re all mine now,” he smirks against your collarbone as he sucked and bit marking you up so everyone would know he was yours and you were his.

“Say it ma ‘evenge,” he demanded.

“‘m all yours teytey,” you choked out through your moans. The knot in your stomach was growing tighter by the second and any second now you would cum.

“Please can I cum tey?” you begged, scratching up his back and marking him in your own way.

“Admit it, admit you’re a fucking slut,” His stern voice pulsated throughout your whole body sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m a slut,” you manage to choke out through your pants. His thrusts are becoming sloppy but his pace is still quick. You know he’s close.

“who’s slut are you?” He questions biting into your neck, his fangs so deep they feel like they’re going to draw blood.

“yours, teyam. All yours,” you breathe, his breaths quicken with yours and he throws his head back unable to take the pleasure anymore. You have to cum before him.

“cum, princess,” As soon as the word leaves his mouth, your a mess crumbling underneath him. Pleasure takes over your body and causes your head to throw back and your back to arch off the tree. The way your walls tighten around him sent him over. His thrusts became sloppy as his white ropes shot into you.

“I know, baby. I know,” He shushed you as you both came down from your high caressing your face with one of his hands and holding you up with the other.

“everyone’s gonna know you’re mine,” he smirked admiring the attacks he left on your neck.

#avatar #neteyam #neteyam smut #avatar the way of water #fanfic #neteyam x reader

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igotanidea · 1 year ago

Text

Bonding: Damian Wayne x sister!reader

Request: from the prompt list : 4: "Didn't know you liked being pinned to the ground this much

Warning: nothing, it;s just fun and fluff, most likely set in the WFA universe.

***

„What happened to you two?” Dick could barely hold back the terror in his voice upon watching his younger siblings. Jason however was not so considerate and straight forward started laughing at Y/N and Damian, the former with the nose swollen and red like a Rudolf and the latter with childish patches all over his forearms.

“Have you two escaped the circus? Sure as hell with such look you would fit there!” he let out a laugh so loud it captured the attention of no one else than Bruce, who became alerted in an instant. It wasn’t usual for Jason to be this happy and chuckling and it was …. suspicious.

Similar to Dick’s, his face dropped upon seeing his kids in such damaged state and just sighed deeply.

“What did you do?” he rubbed his forehead, looking up to the sky probably wondering what mistake did he make (well, the question should have been – what mistake didn’t he make?). Never before had he looked so fatherly, like when Y/N and Damian started their mischief.

Y/N was the middle child, younger than Dick and Jason, but older than Tim and Damian, but Bruce could swear that sometimes she acted like a literal five year old. Especially when any of her brothers started messing up with her things. Especially when Damian did. No one could ever tell what atrocities she could resort to when he grabbed something that wasn’t his.

“It was all his fault!” Y/N cried out, her voice muffled by the swollen nose and she sounded more like a wounded animal rather than a human being.

“I am beyond your level, Y/N and cannot be blamed for…..”

“SIT!” Bruce growled in desperation, but neither of his kids listened. If anything they started bantering even more.

“Not many parental successes on your account, right Bruce?” Jason mocked, but the oldest Wayne didn’t bother answering. Instead he grabbed Damian by the collar and yanked him back and in the air so his feet started dangling above the ground. Luckily Y/N was too tall to do that to her as well.

“This is derogatory” Damian crossed his arms and pouted, the funniest look of her brother making Y/N laugh loudly “put me down, father so I can kick her ass again and….”

“Again?” Bruce eyes focused on his youngest son “what do you mean, again?”

“Nothing!” Y/N chimed in, desperate to keep some kind of secret

“Oh, are you ashamed to admit you got beaten by me in the combat, dear sister?”

“Shut up you little rascal!” Y/N threw herself at him, but this time it was Dick who grabbed her and hold her back

“What did he do?” Grayson asked, knowing well enough how much of a menace Damian could be

“NOTHING!” the boy struggled against his father’s grip

“Who’s afraid to admit what now?!” Y/N smirked at him.

“Ok, that’s it” clearly it was Jason who lost patience first “talk or I’ll draw blood.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” His sister threw him a daring gaze

“Wanna try me, sis? You already got a swollen nose and I can bet that this guy you like…..”

“SHUT UP JASON!”

“wait, there’s a guy?” Bruce was confused “who is he? Why didn’t I met him? How much does he know about us?”

“Not the time, Bruce!”

“LET ME GO DICK!!”

“Sorry, sunshine can’t really do that. Unless you tell us what happened.”

“fine!” she hissed “fine! I’ll tell you!”

An hour ago

“DAMIAN WAYNE!” her voice echoed through the whole Wayne Manor and made the glassed windows shake. Honestly, how could no one in the family of vigilante hear that was beyond her. “you little piece of shit, where the hell are you!?”

“Have you called me sister?” Damian emerged from his room, looking nothing but innocent with the play-pretend smile. But Y/N knew better. She was fairly aware that he was skillful in using that Wayne gene trying to charm people. Too bad his eyes were glistening with mischief.

“You can’t play me, you demon.”

“Did something happened?” he titled his head in curiosity, observing his sister getting more and more angry. Oh, how entertaining it was to see her face get red, her fist clench. Fascinating how girl’s hormones worked.

But clearly, he underestimated Y/N. Yes, she was an emotional young woman surrounded by no less than four brothers, but she was also an adopted Wayne. And the realization of that fact made her calm down. Damian wanted her to get mad. Which meant he had some sort of plan.

“My little, sweet, wonderful, lovely brother.” She quickly changed the method of acting

“Huh?” Damian frowned, still not used to people acting nice towards him. This was…. unexpected. Y/N was clearly cunning and he had to be prepared.

“Tell me, did you happen to see my phone somewhere around?”

“No.” the answer was clearly too fast to be convincing.

“Really?” she smiled and looked over his shoulder inside his room. The perks of being taller and seeing more. “Then what is lying there on your desk?”

“That’s mine.”

“Damian…..” her voice became serious, her posture tensing “give it back to me. Now.”

“No.” he crossed arms, mimicking her position. Oh, they were both preparing for a fight, neither even beginning to consider the option of relenting. “does father know about your little crush?”

“YOU WERE READING MY TEXTS?!!?”

“Do you even realize in how much danger you put us because of your silly little….”

“AH!!” he did not get to finish the sentence when she went at him taking him by surprise. However, not enough of a surprise that he didn’t manage to step back. Instead of pining him to the ground she tripped and dashed into his room, immediately reaching towards the bed to grab her mobile, but Damian grabbed her arm and yanked her back.

“You little rascal!” she yelled, when they started a real Batman-style fight. “It’s mine!”

“it’s a violation of the rules!” he spat back “we’re not supposed to be in a relationship with civilians!”

“what would you know about relationships?!” Y/N blocked his punch, turning around and tripping him up. “you were raised by freaking assassins!”

“How bad we don’t get to choose family, right?” he hissed, falling on his back on the ground but immediately getting up and attacking her again.

Y/N was good, skilled and intuitive, but Damian was smaller and maybe a bit faster and that’s why she did not see it coming when he glanced off the mattress and landed on her back, trying to tackle her to the ground

“GET OFF ME!” she yelled trying to untangle his arms from her neck

“Not a chance!”

They were struggling so hard that at one point this fight moved towards the corridor and with just one wrong step they started falling down the stairs, still doing their best to damage one another. Damian was pulling at Y/N hair, while she covered his eyes in an attempt to blind him. It took a few minutes of weltering, grunting and dapping before they ended up at the base of the stairs.

“Auch…..” they both moaned in unison, their bones and bones already bruised and damaged. It really did hurt.

“HAHA! I won!” Damian yelled as he realized that the position in which they landed allowed him to sit on top of her sister, his weight holding her down.

“Get off me you idiot…..” she whined trying to push him away, but not succeeding at all.

“Didn't know you liked being pinned to the ground this much, Y/N” Damian laughed at her poor, week attempt to get rid of him.

“AH!” she cried out again and started waving her hands at him, Damian instantly started the same and now they were laying on the floor, with him still on top of her, acting like toddlers and emitting battle cries.

“MASTER DAMIAN! MISS Y/N!”

Shit.

Alfred.

The butler just sighed deeply, too used to many very strange views and behaviors around the manor. Too many to care and ask questions.

“Please get up from the floor. Miss Y/N, your nose is bleeding and as for you, Master Damian you got bloody scratches all over your arms.”

“Sorry Alfred.” They followed every word Alfred said to them and stood beside him with their heads hanging low.

“Let’s patch you two up.” Alfred motioned them towards the living room, gathering medical supplied on the way.

Now.

“And he gave you a animal shaped patch!” Jason laughed so hard he had to grab his belly, almost rolling of the couch

“Didn’t you hear a word, Jace? He took her phone! She had every right to be angry and act irrational…” Dick took his sister’s site

“Hm.” Bruce grunted

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but good job on being stealthy” Jason chucked towards Damian “normally it would be Tim to try and do such thing.”

“Are you taking his side now?” Y/N’s eyes went wide “I can’t believe….. ah!” sudden outburst made her nose bleed even more and she held the nearby cloth tighter to the bruised part of her face. “mhmmmhmhm” she mumbled grumpily

“Hm” Bruce grunted again

“Aren’t you gonna say something?” Dick turned towards his father in a bit of shock. Normally Bruce would be the one to punish them both for disobeying the rules of the Manor but now he was just sitting on the couch, his mind wondering elsewhere.

“no.”

“What?!” four pair of surprised eyes landed on him in pure disbelief of how he acted.

“Wouldn’t make any difference. Another day another fight. Just…. apologize to each other. I’m going to the batcave. Dick, Jason come with me.”

“The hell I’m going to ….” Jason started but the look in Bruce eyes made him relent. And that was how Y/N and Damian ended up alone in the living room, sitting next to each other, eyes on the floor.

“Does it hurt much?” he asked

“Not much more than yesterday. I’ll be fine. “ she shrugged like nothing happened “Do you think they know?”

“About what? Our secret plan to make them all crazy and take over the manor?”

“Pretty much, yes.”

“Not sure. Might need some more observation on the matter.”

“So….. we do it again tomorrow?” she smirked

“Oh, absolutely” he smiled back at her, eyes sparkling. It was always fun to fight with her.

“Then can I have my phone back?”

“Sure, I’ve seen all there was to see. “

“I hate you, Damian.” Y/N grinned looking at him

“I hate you too, sis.” He replied with a smirk

And just like that, they bumped their fists. All was good between them.

****

Meanwhile, Tim was hidden in the batcave, glued to the computer, not realizing anything of the events happening upstairs. He only raised his head once he heard Bruce, Dick and Jason entering.

“Did they do it again?” he asked seeing Bruce’s harrowed face, being enough of an answer “Ha! Life never gets boring with those two troublemakers around!”

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x batsis #damian wayne x you #batfamily x batsis #batboys x batsis

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lunargrrrl · 28 days ago

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Lights, Camera, Magic

Agatha Harkness sits in the director's chair of some of your favourite movies. Your world suddenly turns upside down when you're invited to audition for her latest screenplay, "Witching Hour".

Chapter 16

Dinner is served in a grand dining room, with elegant chandeliers casting a golden glow over the tables. Soft jazz plays in the background, mingling with the clinks of silverware and chatter. You glance at the set name placeholders, realising you’re seated slightly away from Agatha, opposite her and a few seats down, next to none other than Rio Vidal—the captivating woman you encountered on the roof terrace just moments ago. She exudes confidence in a tailored dark grey suit that perfectly complements her striking features and cool energy.

“I'm really glad I’m sitting next to you instead of some of these lizards,” Rio says, her voice light. “At least you know how to keep a conversation interesting. The last guy I talked to just wouldn’t stop bragging about his latest blockbuster flop.”

You chuckle. “I can imagine. It’s refreshing to talk to someone who’s real. I’m just trying to enjoy the moment and not get caught up in all the Hollywood nonsense. It’s all just… so intense.”

Rio nods. “Totally get that. It can feel like everyone’s just playing a part, trying to outshine one another. I mean, I love this industry, but sometimes it’s exhausting.” She glances around the room, lowering her voice. “I swear, if I have to hear one more person talk about their ‘vision’ for a film that’s been in development hell for years, I might just lose it.”

You laugh softly in reply as she leans in closer, a playful smile on her lips. “So, tell me, what do you do when you’re not charming the socks off everyone in this room?”

You take a sip of your drink, feeling the warmth of her compliment. “Well, the past year has just been so crazy, I don’t even know anymore. One minute, I was working for some tech company in my first job out of college, and the next, I’m here, auditioning for movies after some guy spotted me in a coffee shop. It feels like a dream that I’m just trying to keep up with.”

Rio raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Talk about a plot twist. Honestly, I see why someone would want to scout you. It’s no wonder people can’t help but notice you.”

You laugh, feeling a flutter of connection. As dinner progresses, the conversation flows easily, filled with laughter and shared stories. As you chat, you can feel Agatha's gaze on you from across the table, her expression a mix of interest and something else—jealous, perhaps.

That familiar, possessive gaze that refuses to leave.

-*-✨-*-

Dinner draws to a close as the servers begin to prepare the table for dessert. Rio is mid-story when her hand brushes against yours as she gestures animatedly. “And then I told him, ‘If you think that’s impressive, wait until you see my next project!’” she finishes, a grin on her lips.

You burst into laughter, and the moment is light. Friendly. But then, you catch Agatha’s eyes flicking toward you, narrowing as she engages with the heavyweight next to her, flashing a smile that feels a touch too flirtatious for comfort.

You try to shake off the discomfort, refocusing on Rio. “So, what’s next for you? Tell me about that project you’re crewing up for next year?”

“Oh yeah, it’s a new script that I think will turn some heads, I reckon you’d be a perfect fit for one of the roles,” Rio replies, her enthusiasm infectious. “It’s a dark comedy about—”

But your attention drifts as you catch another glimpse of Agatha, who is now leaning a bit too close to her companion, laughing a little too hard at something they say. Her fingers graze their wrist, and you feel a knot of annoyance tighten in your stomach.

You turn back to Rio, forcing a smile. “That sounds amazing...”

As you attempt to redirect the conversation, Agatha’s laughter rings out again, this time drawing out her iconic cackle, and you feel the heat of frustration bubble up inside you. You steal another glance at her, catching her playing with the producer’s fingers, and that’s it.

“Excuse me for a second...” you mutter under your breath, pushing back your chair with a noise that draws attention. You stand abruptly, not caring if anyone is looking, and storm away from the table, the air around you suddenly feeling too stifling.

As you pace towards the exit, the soft murmur of conversation behind you fades, drowned out by the thudding of your heart in your chest. You reach the elevator, and the doors begin to slide shut just as you take a breath to steady yourself.

And the second that the doors almost close, is the same second that a hand shoots out, catching the door and forcing it back open.

Agatha.

Your mouth goes dry, and your heart skips, responding to her presence like clockwork.

“Going somewhere?” she asks, her voice smooth as silk, laced with an undertone that makes your pulse quicken.

“I just needed some air,” you reply, trying to sound casual, but the way she’s looking at you makes it impossible to hide the tremor in your voice.

“Air?” she echoes, stepping closer, her gaze steady and piercing. “Why? You seemed pretty… relaxed out there with Rio.”

Frustration bubbles up inside you, and you do your best to hold your composure. “And what about you? I saw you flirting with that producer all dinner.”

Agatha tilts her head, an amused smile dancing on her lips. “Flirting? Hardly. I was simply being professional, and sometimes you need to play into their hands in this industry.” Her expression furrows as she steps even closer, the air between you thick with electricity. “But I’ll admit, it’s adorable how you think you can tease me and get away with it, pet.”

She continues, leaning in, “Two can play at this game, sweetheart. Do you think I didn’t notice the way she looked at you? I think you were forgetting who you belong to.”

Your breath hitches at her words, the possessive undertone igniting within you. “Well, maybe I’m not so easy to claim.”

“Oh, but I think you are.” She steps closer, closing the space between you, “You just need a little reminder.”

Before you can respond, Agatha closes the distance between you with one swift, powerful motion, slamming you against the wall of the elevator. The cool metal presses against your back, causing you to gasp.

“Agatha…” you breathe, but she silences you with her lips, crashing into you with a fervour that ignites every nerve ending in your body. The kiss is urgent and demanding, her hands framing your face as she tilts your head to deepen the connection. You melt against her, responding with equal intensity, the frustration and heat of the moment fuelling your desire.

You gasp helplessly into her hot mouth as she brushes her tongue against yours, igniting a wildfire of longing that tears through you. Her kiss is a heady mix of passion and desperation, each sweep of her tongue sends shivers shaking all over you. You feel her breath hot and rapid against your skin, mixing with the soft sighs that escape from your lips.

Every second stretches into eternity as you lose yourself in her, the world outside the elevator fading into darkness. You explore the intoxicating taste of her lips, rich with the hint of the champagne you shared; the overwhelming strength of her hold wraps around you like a spell. You run your hands up her blazer, your fingers reaching and tangling in her long brown hair, pulling her even closer.

You want to surrender yourself to her completely.

A soft moan escapes your mouth, echoing in the confined space, and Agatha responds immediately, deepening the kiss. It’s as if she craves the sound, as if every whimper from your lips is a reward she cannot resist. Her mouth captures every ounce of your breath, each kiss a sweet torment that leaves you aching for more. She pulls your bottom lip into her mouth, teasingly grazing it with her teeth, sending a rush pooling through you that makes you whimper louder.

And the second that sound slips past your lips, is the same second that Agatha can’t contain the low, throaty sigh that escapes her.

Time seems to compress, each heartbeat reverberating in your chest, leaving you breathless and aching for more, as if every inch of you is ablaze—and only Agatha has the power to quell the flames.

And then, without a word, she reaches into her pocket, retrieving a sleek hotel key card. You manage to catch a glimpse of what it swipes on the elevator panel:

Penthouse Suite

Your breath catches.

Your heart thuds.

Every inch of you pulses at the implication.

Breaking the kiss once more, Agatha pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, her expression a mix of possessiveness and desire.

“It’s time to show you who you really belong to.”

Continue reading on AO3:

#agatha harkness #agatha x reader #agatha harkness fanfic #agatha harkness x reader #agatha all along #agatha x fem!reader

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onnahu · 4 months ago

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Batkids as AO3 users

Dick - I don't think he'd be a writer. He just don't give me the vibes, ya know? He would, however, read fics about people he knows. And himself. He's deep in superhero fandom, and at some moment he gets super invested in some rarepair and actually menages to set them up. I also think as a teenager he would stumble upon some E rated fic for someone he knows, then promise himself he'd never touch it again, and then a few years later he reads them a lot, is just super secretive and guilty about it. He does not, however, touch Batman E rated fics with a ten foot pole.

Tim - you'd think he'd write Hero RPF, huh? No. He's deep into Formula 1 RPF. He writes, he reads, he's just very active in fandom. Most of his works are some kind of Formula 1 murder mystery.

Jason - he is the one from Hero RPF. He doesn't read it, he just writes it. In various AU's, ranging from some inspired by his crazy adventures to those from classic literature. When he was still Robin, he wrote Pride and Prejudice Superbat fic, that became crazy popular. After ressurection he sweared he wouldn't touch it, but after checking it out once and realising how tragic his writing style was, he rewrites the whole thing. He reads fics from fandoms he does not know the original works of. He finds a fic he likes, and learns things from it. Then he spirals deep into fandom. Like many of Batfam fans I imagine. That's why he doesn't write, because he feels he can't without knowing the original, and he sure as hell ain't watching some kids show called Ben 10.

Babs - I think her beginnings were in something like Twilight of DCU. She would regret it forever. Currently she's involved in some shows she watches when on break from work and Oracle. I'm not really into TV series but maybe something like Bridgertons or The Boys or something like that. She writes only one-shots and is active on Tumblr. She has like a thousand bookmarks and she posts fic recs with the most wild analysis of writing style, plot consistency and just vibes. She stays away from any RPF's, but esoecially Superhero RPF. She's got it enough on day to day basis thank you very much.

Steph - that girl post Robin writes the most sick gore body horror fics change my mind. And she does it in fandom's you would least expected. She also writes Spoiler/Batgirl fics, that are really fluffy but also full of action and actually made the pairing wildly known.

Cass - she reads everything Steph writes for Spoiler/Batgirl. Steph does not know Cass knows she writes them. Cass is really charmed. She tried writing one, but it came out really dark and she didn't like how clumsy it was and gave up on trying to be an author. She reads heavy angst, crack, or Steph's Spoiler/Batgirl fics, nothing else. She's the person that leaves very short but very sweet comments on literally averything she likes.

Duke - that boy is in the same circles as both Tim and Dick. He actually finds out it's Tim that writes his favourite Formula 1 fics as Tim finds out it's Duke that leaves those super insightful comments on them that start's conversations with author and other readers. They have one talk about it and then forcefully forgets about it and continues as it was. He writes Batman and Robin and Robin Gang fics. He's really good at it, and that's how he found Duck Grayson. Not that any of them knows that's the other on the other side of the screen. And yes, he's Steph's beta reader, and she's his. They don't talk about it, it's just how it is.

Damian - he reads Batman and Robin fics but only about himself. He also draws fanart and makes comics about Batman and Robin (himself). Later he gets involved in Teen Titans fandom, then the Justice League one, and suddenly he's a wildly known fanartist in the whole Hero RPF community. And he did draw a fanart for Jason's fic ones. They both don't know it's the other. He also gives aby superhero an emotional support fictional pet. Dick think it's adorable. (He was the one that introduced Damian to fandom.)

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naughtyneganjdm · 4 months ago

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Good Luck Charm - Chapter 35

Summary: Negan tries to come to terms with the fact that Y/N is alive. Part of him still believes that he is having a hard time understanding reality, but after talking about his children he comes to a decision that he thinks we will be best for his family.

Characters: Negan, Y/N/reader (OC), Evie, Nathan, Judith, Gabriel, etc.

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39423063/chapters/146636404

Notes: I've had this ready for weeks, I just forgot to put it up. Thanks again to those that still take the time to read this! It will be over soon.

“You’ve been quiet,” Y/N whispered, her fingers drawing circles over the center of Negan’s chest while she played with the dark curls of hair that were there. “That’s not normal for you. I could say things have changed, but considering how you wouldn’t shut up when you first got here, I’d say that you being quiet is a bad thing.”

“It’s not a bad thing, it’s just…I’m starting to wonder if I’m dead now,” Negan inhaled sharply having her lift her head up from his chest to give him a disappointed look. Especially since he had already told her that he thought she was real. “I know I said I thought you were real and I still do. Mostly. It’s just…this is fucked up Y/N. After I thought you died, this has all just been too perfect. You have to understand why my brain is having a hard time. Especially after all the shit I went through.”

“I don’t think this would be my definition of perfect,” she retorted, lifting her head enough to look around The Sanctuary. Holding her hand out, it had Negan looking at the area around them and she wasn’t wrong. This was a shithole. And they were laying in the one part that she managed to clean up a small amount. Lowering her head back down onto his shoulder, she outstretched her hand and allowed her fingertips to sweep over Negan’s neck where the scar was left from Rick cutting his throat. It had him inhaling sharply and his eyes came to a tight close. “More so a case of just being lucky. Both of our stories seem a little like they are bullshit.”

“How so?” Negan grunted, his eyes opening again when her fingers dragged down over the center of his chest. “Mine is completely honest. Yours is the one that sounds like an extravagant thriller film. And you being a little mini super soldier now…?”

“So most people get their jugulars cut and live?” Y/N reminded him of what he had told her about what happened to him and he huffed. “Especially in this day in age? My story seems farfetched, but so does yours. And yet…” she took her time to think things out. “They are both real.”

“Fucking touché. I’m just saying. It’s crazy to think that the one day I sneak out of Alexandria to try and see if there something more for our children I get here and I find you,” Negan stressed, his Adam’s apple bouncing with his voice raspier than normal. “I can’t be that lucky.”

“It’s one day of luck for you,” she reminded him, pushing up to balance her weight so she could look down at him. “For me, it’s been months. I would stay here for days on end, go back to the farm to get supplies and then come back. Just hoping that I would find something that would lead me back to you and the children. So it may be the perfect story for you, but for me, it was me being here every day getting that much closer to giving up.”

Instead of responding, Negan just frowned and swallowed down anything else that he wanted to rebuttal with because he could see that she was getting emotional about the whole thing.

“Perfect for me would have been coming back here, going to the farm and seeing my husband there with our two children doing exactly what he promised me,” she stressed and he felt an ache at the center of his chest realizing that she was right. “Instead…”

“You come here for months and then find me with a disappointing haircut where you knock my ass unconscious,” Negan rumbled with a frown, his head dropping to the side to stare out at her with his saddened, big, hazel eyes. At first, her face scrunched up before she dropped down and buried her head against the center of his chest. Having her laughing against his flesh tickled and he let out a tense sound. “You have to understand that I still remember you asking me for help to protect yourself.”

“And it’s been almost eight years where a majority of that was spent with me training,” she pointed out with a grumble, her hand reaching for his. Hooking her fingers with his, she saw the scars over his hand and brought it closer to her so she could kiss over it. “What happened here?”

“A gun exploded in my hand,” Negan explained with a long sigh seeing her tracing over the mark with her thumb. “It’s complicated.”

“It always is with you,” she responded and it had Negan huffing out.

“What about all of your scars?” Negan curled his arm around her tighter with his fingertips brushing over the tattoo that was there to cover up the one and only scar that he actually knew the answer of.

“Battle wounds,” she was quiet in the way she responded and Negan frowned. “The one on my other shoulder is a gunshot. The ones of my face are from fights. Some cuts I got from knives…”

“And the one under your bellybutton?” Negan found himself curious, but the expression she made when she looked up at him showed him that she was uncomfortable. “Was it that bad?”

“It had to deal with the tests that they did on me,” she explained in a whisper and it had Negan reaching up to sweep his thumb in over her jawline. “It was hell getting back here Negan. It was nothing but pain and misery. So for you this might seem perfect, but for me? It feels like something I deserve after everything I’ve gone through.”

“Fair enough,” Negan stammered with his throat tensing up and he felt guilty hearing that. During his time in that cell, he thought he went through incredible amounts of suffering, but from what she told him? She went through worse. “I’m sorry.”

“I told you, I don’t really want to hear that Negan,” she reminded him, palming her hand down over the lengths of his abdomen which had him taking in a sharp breath. “I don’t want to think about my past anymore. I don’t want to be angry. I just want to be with my family again and live as much of a normal life as I possibly can.”

“Which reminds me…” Negan cleared his throat, his chest aching that he was thinking about things other than having her in his arms like this right now. “More than anything, I want to just stay like this for a while. Have you in my arms, naked and feeling more alive than I have in a very long time. But I made a promise to Evie and I know she has to be freaking out right now.”

“Okay. So what’s the plan then?” she whispered, her hand sliding down to caress in over Negan’s lower abdomen before sliding up to palm in over the side of his face drawing him to look down at her. “What are we doing? How are we getting them out of there tonight?”

“That’s the thing,” Negan started, his body tensing up when he eyed her over. “I snuck out of Alexandria after seven years. They aren’t going to be okay with me just leaving. They are going to have people out searching for me. And they will be out to kill if they see me. Not many people there care too much for my well being. After me leaving, I know they are going to be watching our children closely. I was never supposed to leave that cell. That was the plan. We can’t just show back up there and get our children. I’m not going to risk our children getting hurt and I won’t risk you getting hurt either because of these people.”

“Trust me, no one is going to be hurting me,” she stressed which had Negan grumbling to himself, curling his arm tighter around her waist to pull her closer to him. Hooking her leg over his had him sighing with her warmth surrounding him.

“Yes, I know. You’re a badass now, which turns me on incredibly fucking much. But we don’t need you slaughtering a whole town in order to get our children out of there,” Negan reasoned with her hearing her scoff. Dropping his head back, Negan looked down at her with his hazel eyes narrowing when she lifted her head up toward him. “You sound disappointed that I won’t let you slaughter a whole town in order to get our children out of there.”

There was a silence that was between the two of them and Negan shifted with a tension in his body, “We also don’t want our children to get hurt in the process.”

“Then what’s your plan, Negan?” she exhaled loudly, lowering her head back down to pepper faint kisses over the freckles that covered his shoulder that was closest to her. “How do we make this work?”

“Did you really think slaughtering a whole town was the way?” Negan was shocked that she didn’t seem to flinch at the idea of it.

“I told you, I’ve had to do…things,” she swallowed down, trying to avoid the judgement that he was undoubtedly giving her over her response to things. “The only thing that matters to me right now is being with you and the children. So whatever I have to do in order to get back to our children, I will.”

“And you really think you can take down an entire town?” Negan was curious that she truly believed in herself that much. “We can’t do that. There are innocent people in that town. And I know you, you got mad at me for doing what I did at The Sanctuary.”

“Times change Negan,” she declared with a frown, showing that they both clearly had a lot to talk about in the future. “But you’re right. Innocent people shouldn’t get hurt over a few rotten ones. So what do you think is going to work here?”

“I can only think of one way right now. And you aren’t gonna like it,” Negan stammered, his jaw clenching when her kisses over his chest came to a slow halt. “Right now, the number one thing that matters to me is our daughter. I love you so fucking much and I’m still having trouble believing this whole thing is real, but our daughter still beats herself up every day over you passing away. The whole point of leaving here was to find a place for our children. Now I know that you have the farm up and running. There is a place for our children. But most of all, I think Evie needs to know that you are alive. Nathan doesn’t even remember you Y/N. They both need their mother. They need their mother more than they need their father.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she was genuinely curious where he was headed with what he was about to say.

“I think that I should take you back to Alexandria with me. I go back in that cell. You get to be with our children. They are living in a house alone as it is. You do what you do best and you fit in. When the time is right, we get the fuck out of there,” Negan responded with a simple shrug of his shoulders and he could already tell by the expression on her face that Y/N hated it. “I really think that’s the only way at this point Y/N. It’s the only way to keep everyone safe in this situation. I don’t want to kill anyone else and I don’t want you or the children taken from me. I’ve already gone this long without you and I don’t know how much more time I have left in this world.”

“There has to be another way. You shouldn’t have to be locked up like an animal,” she reasoned with Negan hearing him sigh loudly.

“It’s the quickest way to get you back to Evie. You’ve been looking for the children every day for months. Evie has been suffering for seven years. You get to be with your family. You earn your place in that town and when they get comfortable with you, we find our way out,” Negan repeated what he said, his chest aching at the idea of having to go back to that cell after being stuck there for so long. It was just the only way everything seemed to work out. “Just don’t tell them your story because I feel like they will freak out and they might be scared of you.”

“Which part?” she frowned, pushing herself up into a seated position. Drawing his hand up the side of her body, Negan stroked his fingers around over her lower back before shrugging.

“All of it?” Negan’s nose wrinkled, biting down firmly onto his bottom lip when she smirked. “I mean, people aren’t going to understand the whole super soldier thing and that there are three towns that are ran just like they were back in the day…”

“Two now,” she corrected Negan who let out a long exhale, smiled and nodded his head slowly.

“Whatever it is, they are going to panic,” Negan suggested, pushing himself up onto his palms so that he was sitting up, his lips hovering over hers while he spoke. “And the whole being picked up by a doctor and being tested on thing might worry some people. They are going to wonder if you were or were not bit. People might want to lock you up themselves. I never told anyone what happened to you other than I lost you. Hearing you may have been bit would freak people out.”

“Does that scare you about me?” she wondered, her palm dragging down over the front of Negan’s chest toward his lower abdomen again. It had his eyes narrowing, a smirk tugging at his lips before he shrugged.

“You scare the shit outta me,” Negan rumbled, his lips faintly brushing against hers before humming. “But if you’re contagious and I’m gonna catch something by doing what we’ve done a few times today, then I’ll happily accept my outcome.”

“Solid answer,” she pat him on the chest hearing him chuckle right before she captured his lips in a kiss. Boldly flicking his tongue out against hers had her purring out. “You’re a brave man.”

“I’m a man in love that has been broken for years. It’s worth the risk,” Negan curled his arm around her waist to spin her around back onto the bed again. Starting to pepper kisses over her jawline, down her neck and further down her body had Negan humming out. “I don’t care about the details, I’m just happy that you’re here.”

Nipping at the flesh under her navel, Negan grunted out and tipped his head back to stare out at her, “So, do you agree with what I said?”

“I think there are better ways, but if that’s the only way you see this working,” she lowered her hand to sweep her thumb over Negan’s jawline. “Then I guess that’s what we will do. We just have to make a stop at the farm first.”

“For what?” Negan wondered, his face scrunching up and she rolled her eyes. “What?”

“Well, I’ve been checking in constantly with the family that lives there. I need to let them know that I’m going to be gone for a while,” she explained to Negan, her eyes narrowing out at him while she worked out what she would have to do in order to make his plan work. “They need to be able to hold down the fort while we’re gone so to speak. And prepare for when we come back. It’s going from four people to seven. You know just as much as I do there is enough space, but the guy staying there needs to know I’m not dead.”

“Good point, I guess,” Negan nipped at her hip before crawling back in over her hovering his lips over hers. “And there is nothing going on between you and this man?”

“Define nothing,” she teased him, her palms grasping firmly to the sides of Negan’s face. It had him frowning and she laughed. “You are so jealous.”

“I always have been,” Negan snorted, his nose wrinkling when he flicked his tongue out over her lips causing her to moan. “But with how eager you were to jump on my dick, I’d definitely say you haven’t had any in a while, so…”

“Way to take a romantic moment and spoil it,” she growled when she slid her fingers up over the back of his neck and frowned. “I miss your hair.”

“I guess I’m gonna have to work on letting it grow back,” Negan’s nose wrinkled, his body lowering down in over hers again stealing kiss after kiss from her lips. “No one was around to pull on it. So I kinda just did what felt good in the moment.”

“You’re still cute, I just like the hair,” she declared against his lips, palming down over the lengths of Negan’s long back. “I know you’re older…”

“We both are,” Negan corrected her, nuzzling his nose in against hers when he felt her squeezing at his naked bottom.

“I’m in better shape than you are,” she reminded him drawing an offended breath to fall from his lips. “Can you do another round and make the trip to the farm before going back to this Alexandria place. You seem kind of tired as it is.”

“One, I found a motorcycle before you whooped my ass,” Negan reached for her wrists, pushing them down firmly beside her on the bed hearing an amused laugh fall from her lips. “Two, I’m capable of more than you think and three, I have no idea when we will be able to do this again, so I’m not gonna miss up on the chance if you are offering.”

“Good boy,” she winced when his fingers squeezed firmly around her wrists, pinning her further against the bed. Once their eyes connected, she noticed the way that Negan’s expression softened and his wolfish smile faded to a saddened look. Releasing one of her wrists, Negan lowered his palm to cup her face lovingly bringing her to a lingering kiss. “What’s wrong?”

“You just have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” Negan whispered, his forehead pressing to hers when he nuzzled his nose to hers. “I should have never left you that day. That was my biggest mistake. I should have stayed by your side. We could have avoided all this pain. All this suffering…”

“You did what I asked of you,” she reminded him, but he shook his head and there was misery behind his eyes. “We don’t know if them taking me saved my life Negan. You can’t punish yourself over what you did and did not do.”

“I have been punishing myself since that day,” Negan claimed, the lines in his forehead growing. A loud exhale fell from his throat and he shook his head. “I don’t think you know how much losing you really broke me. I lost it with Lucille, but with you…?”

“I’m here,” she whispered when he let out a broken breath. Noticing that there were tears burning at his eyes made her let out a tremoring breath. Lifting up, she brought their lips together in another kiss when she realized that he was still extremely emotional over this whole thing. “You don’t have to worry anymore.”

“I’m going to worry every second because I know how much it hurt,” Negan reached for her hand to bring it to him. Faintly brushing his lips over the inside of her palm had her exhaling loudly and he shook his head. “Now that you’re here, I don’t ever want to imagine losing you again. Ever.”

----

“Wow,” Negan grumbled after bringing the motorcycle to a stop in front of where he knew that the farm he had convinced Y/N to get years ago was. It surprised him to see that the overgrown green, trees and some wood had hidden the entrance to it. “You really did hide this place.”

“A few years of overgrowth didn’t hurt,” Y/N pressed a faint kiss against Negan’s cheek, her fingers dragging across Negan’s lower abdomen when she got off the motorcycle. “So what is it that you want me to tell these people in Alexandria? I feel like our stories have to match.”

“You can be somewhat honest?” Negan suggested, curling his fingers tightly around the handlebars of the motorcycle. “Tell them that someone took you because they thought you needed help. They travelled across the country and you got stuck.”

“I feel like there has to be something more,” she scoffed, moving some of the green and disappearing under it slightly to push open an area of a manmade wall that was hiding the entrance to the farm. “They aren’t going to be okay with me just telling them I’ve been across the country for years.”

“These people have gone through a lot. I think they will believe just about anything,” Negan responded, moving the motorcycle forward when she urged him to move through the opening. Waiting for her once he got through, Negan waited for her to close things up. In that time, he looked back toward the home that he had convinced Y/N to get so long ago. A shocked breath escaped him seeing that there were crops growing, animals in the field and things looked healthy. Even the house did. “Holy shit.”

“What?” she stepped in beside Negan, dragging her hand down over the side of his face. Leaning into her touch, Negan sighed and cherished the warmth. Pressing a kiss over the center of her palm had her smiling.

“I just can’t believe how good this place looks,” Negan confessed getting off the motorcycle with a grunt. Sure, it look wore down in certain places, but who knows what happened between the time Rick attacked him and she returned. Walking the motorcycle up the long walkway with Y/N gave Negan time to look things over. “You guys really have been working nicely on it.”

“It didn’t take much to fix up. Plus, when I tell you I was prepared for the end of the world being fully stocked in the past, I mean it,” she stressed and it had Negan’s face scrunching up. Turning to him, her hand placed in over the center of his chest. Tipping up on her toes, she could tell that Negan was eyeing her over curiously and she shrugged. “What?”

“How so?” Negan breathed out which was followed by her peppering tiny kisses over his bottom lip. Happily accepting them, Negan’s hands fell to her hips while he held her close.

“Ah, that’s my secret to keep,” she tapped her fingers against his lips which made him frown. “I have my secrets. You have yours. There are some things on this land that only I know. And it will remain that way.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan scoffed, stepping forward to playfully smack at her bottom which had her gasping and swatting away his hands. “So tell me, is your bedroom still decent enough for us to maybe share a moment before we head off?”

“Yes, my bedroom is decent enough, but it’s going to get dark soon,” she grabbed a tight hold of his hands, finding amusement in the way he pulled her in closer to him. The warmth of his breath lingered over hers and she snickered. “Plus, we’ve already done that a lot today.”

“I can’t help it, the boys get back to work and they just want to keep going,” Negan looked down between them and she playfully hit at the side of his face making him snort. “I can’t help how I feel when I’m around you.”

“Well, I’m glad I don’t completely turn you off. I thought the whole CRM thing would turn you away and some of the scars…” she was honest, her smile fading slightly. “Not many men are okay with a woman that can whip their ass.”

“Oh, I love it. I like to be dominated,” Negan insisted with an amused wink. His palms curled around her ass and it had her stepping in closer to him. “It turns me on so much? And the scars? I think it only makes you hotter. We match.”

“Smooth,” she hooked her arms around his shoulders and tipped up to meet his lips in a passionate kiss again. “But you always were.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan rumbled hearing the sound of the front door opening drawing his eyes to lift. A little boy ran out onto the porch which had him releasing her from his grasp and pulling away from her lips with a wet sound.

“Y/N!” the little boy seemed to squee with excitement, jumping from the top step into her arms when she turned to face him. A laugh fell from her throat when she hugged the dark haired boy, who happily cuddled his head into the side of her neck. Following the boy out was a teenage girl and the man Y/N had been talking about. It had Negan stiffening up and he was uncomfortable. These were the people now living at their home. Negan’s eyes connected with the brown eyes of the stranger. The man was a little shorter than him with messy hair that went in front of his eyes. It was graying, but it matched well with his tanned flesh. This man wasn’t ugly. At all. He may have been slightly older than Negan, but looking at him made Negan uncomfortable. This was the guy that Y/N traveled with in order to find her way back? Something caught his attention when the teenage girl moved down the steps to hug Y/N as well. Something about the whole interaction made Negan uneasy. Back in Alexandria they had a teenage girl and a little boy waiting for her. These weren’t their children and they were embracing her like they were. It was strange seeing it when she hadn’t even gotten to be with their own children yet.

Y/N looked back at him and she was talking, but he was so lost in his own thoughts that he wasn’t exactly hearing her. It was probably her introducing him, but in this moment he just wanted to get Y/N back to the children. It felt wrong being here with people that he didn’t even know. In fact, he wished things would just move faster so they could leave. When the stranger held his hand up to wave at Negan, Negan mirrored the same motion and dropped his head down.

“Here we go,” Negan heard Y/N stammer when she set the little boy back down on the top step of the stairs and moved up to them to talk to the stranger. “I don’t know how long I’m going to be gone, but I just wanted to let you know that I’m okay. We have to find a way to get our children out of a bad situation. It could take a while. Months maybe. But we’ll be back. All four of us.”

“We’ll be waiting for you,” the stranger stammered, his arm hooking loosely around the shoulders of the teenage girl that was standing beside him. The southern drawl was deep and Negan cleared his throat uneasily. Sure, he appreciated that these people helped Y/N return to him, but he didn’t know how he would handle living with a second family when they returned. “We’ll just keep doing what you taught us. Your family will have a place when you return.”

A soft tap was felt against Negan’s foot, pulling his attention away from what was happening. Looking down, he saw a ball had rolled off the porch and hit his foot. Lowering down, Negan grabbed the ball, his eyes lifting when he smirked at the sight of the little boy hiding behind the man’s legs. With a smirk, Negan kneeled down on the first step, an amused rumble falling from his throat when the little boy’s hazel eyes connected with his when his head pushed out to look at Negan. When he saw that Negan was there he swiftly went back to hiding and it made Negan laugh.

“Easton,” the man reached around him, to place his hand in over the center of the little boy’s shoulders to bring him up beside him. “He’s not gonna hurt you. This is the man that Y/N talked about.”

“Evie and Nathan’s daddy?” the boy looked up at the man that Negan had only just met and he nodded. Hearing that seemed to relax the boy when Negan outstretched his hand to hold out the ball. It took a minute for the boy to trust Negan before he stepped forward.

“Is this yours?” Negan questioned, his right eyebrow arching in curiosity and the boy nodded his head. “Easton, right?”

“Yeah,” the little boy nodded, his eyes lowering down showing how shy he was.

“I’m Negan,” Negan placed his hand in over the center of his chest giving the boy a big smile when Easton looked up at him again. Holding the ball out further, Easton looked back at the man looking for confirmation and it made Negan look to Y/N who was smirking while watching the interaction.

“You can get your ball buddy,” the thick southern accent fell from the man and Easton outstretched his hand to grab the ball from Negan. “Now say thank you.”

“Thank you,” Easton repeated, lowering the ball down at his side. There was a lot of fear in the boy’s eyes and Negan wondered if this boy had a lot of bad encounters with people making him weary of strangers.

“Do you like to play catch?” Negan tried to spark up a conversation with the boy, adjusting so he was still about the boy’s height so they could talk. Easton nodded, his eyes now locked on Negan’s. “My little boy loves to play catch. It’s one of his favorite things ever. We play all the time. He’s always trying to get someone to play with him. He loves it more than anything. Maybe when we come back, you would want to play with him.”

“I’d like that,” Easton responded with a half-smile, shifting on his feet when he looked down at the ball. “I haven’t had a lot of people to play with me.”

“Well, we’re gonna have to change that, huh?” Negan winked and it made the boy seem to relax more around him. “Do you know what soccer is? My daughter loves soccer and she’s really good at it too.” Easton shook his head when Negan slowly raised up into a standing position. “Well we’ll have to change that. She can teach you all about it when we come back.”

“That sounds fun,” the teenage girl moved in beside Easton to give his shoulder a firm squeeze.

“We need to go,” Y/N interrupted the moment, her fingers curling loosely around Negan’s arm when she got him to start backstepping with her. “It’s going to be dark soon, but I promise that we will be back. I don’t know when, but I promise.”

“You’ve never broken a promise,” the man reminded Y/N, his head tipping once when he reached down to pick up Easton to hold him close to his chest. “We’ll be here.”

They said their goodbyes and Negan walked his motorcycle back to the front with her. Looking over his shoulder, Negan watched the man interacting with the two children and he cleared his throat.

“Those are his children?” Negan gazed over the two children with the man feeling his chest aching watching them at the home he considered theirs. “They don’t really look like they are his.”

“That’s because they aren’t his,” she seemed distracted while she worked to get the door back open. It had Negan looking back over his shoulder at her and she shrugged her shoulders. “It’s complicated, but it’s the closest thing to a father that they have. They may not be blood, but they are family.”

“How so?” Negan saw the three of them heading back into the house and he huffed when she seemed irritated with him asking.

“His daughter died when the world fell to shit. He lost everything. The girl was alone, she needed saving and he saved her. They were together when I found them in Kansas City. He’s been taking care of her for a few years. He’s her dad,” Y/N threw her hand out toward where the three people Negan just met were standing previously.

“And Easton?” Negan wondered, his brow line creasing when Y/N shifted on her feet before him. “What about him?”

“He’s been with him for months,” Y/N sighed loudly, her arms folding out in front of her chest. “On the way here from Kansas City, I had to go back to Philadelphia to grab some things. I knew of places to sneak out and…in. I had to grab some things that were mine and Easton was there. He was at a military school. They were going to use him to do what they wanted. So we grabbed him too. He was far too little. He’s just seven years old…”

“I see,” Negan felt her moving forward to reach for his hands. Thinking about what she said, Negan tipped his head to the side and scoffed. “You went back to the place you were at originally? Wasn’t that dangerous?”

“No one recognized me. When I was there at first I looked…different. And I wasn’t always out in the public. They had me in these testing areas,” she stressed, her head bobbing about showing that she was uncomfortable with what she was telling him. “I kept my head down, I grabbed what I needed and we left. We came here and everything has been fine since. I just was missing my family.”

“And we can trust him?” Negan looked back toward the house again, but she grabbed his face and forced him to look at her. “I’m sorry babe, but you can’t blame me for asking.”

“Yes, I trust him with my life because he helped save my life on multiple occasions. He helped bring me here. To you,” she reminded Negan, palming in over the side of his face and having him leaning into her touch. “Can we go now?”

“Of course,” Negan sighed, lowering in to press a quick kiss over her lips before leading the motorcycle out after she pushed open the space for him. Waiting for her, Negan propped the motorcycle up and when she closed back the opening Negan grabbed a tight hold of her and kissed her repeatedly.

“Whoa,” she chuckled, a wet sound falling from between them when she tipped her head back. “What’s up?”

“I just love you, so much,” Negan swallowed down hard, his lips parting when he shook his head. “I need you to know that. I don’t know how much interaction the two of us are going to be able to have for a while so I need to get it in. You mean everything to me. And having you back here? Having you alive? It’s everything I’ve wanted, it’s a miracle.”

“Hey,” she hushed him, grabbing at the back of his hand and nodding her head. “I love you too. We’re going to make this work Negan. I promise you.”

“I hope so,” Negan frowned, nuzzling his nose in against hers. Leaving her with one final kiss, Negan went to head back to the motorcycle, but he realized that she wasn’t following him. Taking a glance back at her he could see that there was tension in her features. “Hey. What is it?”

“Do you think Evie and Nathan will be happy to see me?” she wondered, her eyes narrowing when Negan smirked and half laughed. “I’m serious Negan. It’s been a long time. You said yourself that Nathan doesn’t even know who I am. It’s scary being gone this long and away from them. I’ve missed them so much, but…”

“Evie has kept you alive through her stories to her brother,” Negan assured her, getting off the motorcycle after making sure it was safe to do so. Turning toward her, Negan reached for her hands and caressed over the back of them with his thumbs. “More than anything, I know Evie will be happy and relieved to see you. Not only did I break when you…disappeared, but so did she. You’d be very proud of her though. She’s stepped into the role of mom with Nathan. She’s the one that taught him how to talk. She’s the one that taught him to be a good boy. And she’s so fucking smart. Smarter than I ever was.”

Tears burned at her eyes when she lowered her head to watch Negan caressing over her hands in attempts to calm her, “And she draws you all the time. You, me, Lucille…”

“I look different,” she stressed and it had Negan smiling, stepping in closer to her. Lifting one hand, he swept his fingers in underneath her chin and shook his head. “Negan, I look older. You can tell I put a lot of stress on my body and I have scars…”

“You look exactly like you,” Negan hushed her, sweeping his thumb in over her bottom lip and shaking his head. “I have extra scars and I’m gray as can be right now. You are in better shape than I am. And I don’t question that.”

“I’m just afraid,” she admitted, her voice breaking as she spoke. “I want nothing more than to hold them in my arms again, but the idea that I may not be enough or that they have learned to live without me…”

“That would never happen. Those children need you, now more than ever,” Negan promised with a wink, squeezing her hand tightly in his before raising her hand up to press a loving kiss over the back of it. “I’m afraid every day. Because one day I’m worried that the love that those children have for me is going to leave. I know I’m not good enough for any of you, yet you all remain loving me. If you didn’t love something, you wouldn’t be afraid. The fear is what shows we are alive. It shows that we are passionate and we fucking love something.”

“Yeah,” she parted her lips, reaching up to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Thank you, Negan.”

“You don’t need to thank me for just stating the truth,” Negan lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers giving her one final kiss before they got back on that motorcycle together.

The ride was quiet. Lots of things were spiraling through his mind. Questions that he had thought of with Y/N. Thoughts about the family they left on the farm. How he was going to get back into Alexandria without getting shot. That last one being the most important. Especially now with having to protect Y/N.

Those fears didn’t last long though because it wasn’t long before someone was shooting at them causing Negan to lose control of the motorcycle and slide off into the ditch. An automatic fear of Y/N getting hurt made him panic when he scrambled to check if she was okay.

“I’m fine,” she waved her hand about, letting out a scoff when she pulled herself up into a seated position. Still, Negan seemed worried and she shook her head. “I’ve gone through a lot worse than that Negan.”

Hearing the sound of footsteps had Negan grunting out when he sat up straighter seeing Judith approaching, “Alright. Slow down kid. I know you said you’d shoot, but damn.”

“Whole lot of people out there looking for you. I told you that there was nothing out there for you,” Judith stressed and Negan dropped his head down to draw his thumb across his forehead.

“You sure as shit did,” Negan remembered what she had told him when he snuck out of Alexandria, but he looked back over his shoulder at Y/N who seemed uncomfortable with a child having a gun on them.

“Language! I’m a kid asshole,” Judith repeated back having Negan snort in response. Stealing another look back at Y/N, Negan shrugged his shoulders and started to get up.

“Yeah. You are. What can I say? I like to swear in front of my friends. People that know shit,” Negan stood slowly, his hand reaching out to grab a tight hold of Y/N’s hand to pull her up. “But there was something out there for me. I just don’t belong out there.”

“What do you mean?” Judith looked beyond Negan and he nodded toward Y/N.

“Do you not see her?” Negan wondered, throwing his hand up in the air and he saw the way that Judith was eyeing him over. With a grunt, he squeezed his hand tighter around Y/N’s. “Oh come on! She has to be real this time because after everything, I…”

“Negan,” Y/N interrupted him, her head shaking about when he looked to Judith with desperation flooding through his veins. More than anything he was panicked that he just made all of this up again in his head and he was batshit crazy.

“Of course I see her,” Judith shrugged her shoulders, her eyes scanning over Y/N and he let out a sound of relief. “Who is she?”

“She’s Nathan and Evie’s mother,” Negan answered, pulling Y/N in beside him and he still made sure that he was the one that was in front of the barrel of the gun that Judith was holding up.

“I thought she was dead,” Judith’s eyes gazed over at Y/N as if trying to determine if it was real.

“I told you, she went missing,” Negan stated, his fingers hooking tightly around Y/N’s to squeeze them. Glad that she was actually there and he wasn’t insane again. “I’ve gone over that story with you so many times. How I went back, she was gone…and…”

“You thought she was dead though,” Judith repeated and Negan was sad to agree with her, but she was right. “And you found her? How?”

“It’s kind of a complicated story,” Y/N answered for Negan, her body aching from the fall that it took with Negan on the motorcycle. “But you’re right about what you said. There is nothing out there for either of us. I haven’t seen my family in years and I’ve been looking for them. When they weren’t far from me this whole time.”

“I got a look at what’s out there and my family…her family, would be safer in Alexandria,” Negan thought aloud, his Adam’s apple bouncing in this throat when Judith thought over what they were saying. Carefully, Judith lowered the gun and nodded. “More than anything, Evie needs to know that her mother is alive.”

“I agree,” Judith nodded her head about looking between the two of them. “You’re going back to your cell, Negan.”

“I know,” Negan realized that was the only outcome that this led to, but he didn’t care if it meant returning Y/N to Evie and Nathan.

“We’re walking the rest of the way,” Judith threw her hand up pointing toward the area that Alexandria was. Keeping his fingers hooked with Y/N’s, Negan allowed Judith to lead the way knowing that she was their one way in with being safe and she was right.

Part of Negan felt guilty about this whole thing. For so long Judith had been waiting for her miracle and now one was happening, but it wasn’t her father. Hearing what they said is definitely the reason that Judith allowed them back in because the story was the same thing she wanted with Rick.

Once they got back to town, there were glares. Looks of confusion with Negan holding onto some stranger’s hand. There would be a lot of explaining. Negan knew that. He wished they would have planned it out a little better than they did, but all he could think about was Evie.

“Daddy,” Evie’s voice called out, drawing Negan’s fingers to loosen from Y/N’s hand. In the distance Negan could see that Evie was running out toward him. Almost instinctively he ran to her and allowed her to run into his arms. With how tightly she was holding onto him, he knew that Evie thought she was never going to see him again. “After you left, I got scared and…”

“It’s okay,” Negan whispered, pressing a loving kiss over her forehead hearing her crying against the center of his chest. A moment later, Negan felt another strength of a grasp wrapping around his lower half. Leaning back, he wrapped his arm around Nathan who had obviously seen Evie run off and he came as well too. This was the first time that Nathan had really been able to hug him the way that he was meant to be hugged. There were tears in Negan’s eyes. He wanted this moment, but this moment was not about him. “Evie…”

Gazing back over his shoulder, Negan saw that Y/N was standing there frozen. Tears were in her eyes and she looked like she was trembling at the sight of her family there.

“Evie,” Negan said her name once more, his hand reaching up to palm in over the side of her face. “There is something I found. Something that you need to see.”

Confusion filled her eyes when Negan pulled away from the both of them, side stepping to allowing Evie to get a look at what was there. Evie’s face went white. Her hazel eyes growing wide when she looked to Negan as if for confirmation that she was actually there. With a single nod, Negan watched as Evie stumbled forward toward Y/N.

“Mom?” she breathed out, a whimper falling from her throat. Nodding, Y/N let out a cry herself seeing how big Evie had gotten. How much she had truly missed in the years that she was gone.

“It’s me baby,” Y/N finally spoke and that was all it took. Evie fell into her arms and both of them lowered to the ground. There were no hiding the sobs that were coming from both of them while they hugged. “I’m here.”

“I don’t understand,” Evie brought her head back, her fingers tremoring when she traced over the scar that was left on her mother’s chin. “We thought you were dead. You were gone for so long and…no one could find you. Dad and I searched the farm, but…”

“It’s a long story where I ended up very far away,” Y/N described what happened in a very shortened way, her fingers brushing through her daughter’s dark hair while she tried to comfort her. “But I fought to make it back to all of you and your dad found me.”

“More like she found me,” Negan offered up with a whimpering breath himself, his arm hooking loosely around Nathan’s shoulders while they stood together. “Your mom is the impressive one in this story. Not me.”

“I am so sorry,” Evie apologized, her hand reaching up to curl around Y/N’s wrist. “I’ve thought about the way I was for so long. I didn’t understand things and I was so mean. I should have been telling you that I loved you every day because I know that you were doing everything that you could to take care of me. To take care of us. I love you mom. So much. When you were gone, I just…”

“No,” Y/N didn’t want Evie punishing herself anymore about things. “I’m here now. You don’t need to worry about then because there was one thing that always kept me strong and fighting. That was you Evie. You and your brother. So please, don’t beat yourself up over what happened. You couldn’t control what happened. No one could.”

Dropping her head forward, Evie cried against the side of Y/N’s neck and Y/N stroked her fingers over Evie’s shoulders to comfort her. Looking to Negan, Y/N almost didn’t know how to respond to this because it was overwhelming and very emotional.

“Dad?” Nathan’s voice was quiet, his eyes raising to look for his father for confirmation in things. “That’s her? That’s mom.”

“That’s your mom,” Negan bit down on his bottom lip with Nathan slowly stepping forward. When Y/N saw him, she lifted her free hand to motion him close. Uneasily, she touched the side of Nathan’s face and smiled.

“Look at my beautiful boy. You look so much like your father,” Y/N commented which drew Nathan in for her to be able to hug both of them. “My beautiful boy and my beautiful daughter.”

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” a voice muttered from behind Negan when he looked over his shoulder to see that Gabriel was standing behind him.

Without saying anything, Negan nodded and moved toward his family. He knew that he wouldn’t have a long time with them, but he lowered down to wrap his arms around them supportively in his grasp. This was everything he dreamt of and he couldn’t believe it was happening. The only problem was? He knew that he wasn’t going to be part of this equation much longer and that broke his heart.

----

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kasagia · 2 years ago

Note

Hello, can I ask for a one-shot where Cami is jealous of y/n because all the men she meets are always talking about her, but for her it gets worse when in her therapies with Klaus, he doesn't stop talking about y/n because he is in love/obsessed with her, he even shows her the drawings he made of y/n, and she in a jealous rage tells him that she loves him and that y/n is not as special as she thinks, which surprises klaus because of cami's attitude, and then rejects her because her heart only belongs to y/n.

What makes her so special?

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson xO'Connell reader Summary: You have a gift of attracting any man to you. Everyone who meets you loves you. But the cup of bitterness is overflowing when, in front of Cami's eyes, Klaus begins to fall in love with you. And you do not remain indifferent to the courtship of your sister's handsome friend for long. The question is, can the two of you confess your true feelings to each other before jealous Cami messes things up between you and Klaus? Warning(s): Cami is a jealous backstabber, Klaus can't trust people, swearing is the order of the day, de@th mentioned but nothing terrible Word count: 4,8k

Camille O'Connell was trying not to regret anything she had done in her life.

It came out with better or worse successes, but this time an inner feeling of grief festering within her kept her from forgetting the biggest mistake she had made and regretted with all her heart.

Camille O'Connell regretted introducing Klaus Mikaelson to Y/N O'Connell.

Yes. Her younger, prettier, smarter, and more talented little sister.

It wasn't that Cami didn't like her own sister. She loved her, even though Y/N had become cold and distant to her family since their brother's death, although she never left Cami to her fate—she was always there when the blonde needed her.

But there was something about Y/N that drew men to her. Any guy who wouldn't stand in her way within five minutes was starting to fall in love with her.

And Cami hated that.

So she had no idea why she had the stupid idea of taking Klaus to the theater in New Orleans. I mean, she knew that, as his therapist, she wanted to "break the fear of the place where he lost everything." Clear the bad memory Mikael left behind. (She actually wanted to go on some sort of date with him, but hush huh.)

Thinking about it like that, she was really stupid to assume that Y/N wouldn't be in the play. She loved The Greatest Showman and would do anything to play a role in her favorite musical. Of course, with her talent and charm, she didn't have to try so hard. Cami should have anticipated this.

Just like how Klaus will take an interest in you as soon as he reads your last name.

"Y/N O'Connell, any family of yours?"

"My younger sister. She is an actress."

"Well, all the more reason for me to stay here and watch this bloody play, right?"

When Y/N took the stage, Klaus showed only a little of his interest. Beautiful, pretty face. He had seen many of them in his long life. But the next time he saw her, in a long white dress, she was in the middle of the stage with a soft smile. Then she has his full attention. And when she started singing in her angelic voice one of the most captivating songs he had ever heard? The guy was gone and never wanted to free himself from her spell.

And Camille saw that. Another loving gaze throwning by a man in your direction.

She felt jealous. Again.

Fortunately, as soon as Y/N disappeared from the scene, Klaus focused his attention on her.

Cami hoped it was just a fleeting fascination on Klaus' part.

But it wasn't.

As soon as the play was over, Klaus insisted she take him to her sister's so they could get to know each other properly.

Cami should have refused and gone home. But she agreed and took the hybrid backstage to Y/N's dressing room.

And that's how they met.

"Y/N? Are you there?" the woman asked, entering the room first and checking if they could come in. Her sister came out of the bathroom, changed into her usual everyday clothes.

"Oh! Hi, Cam. I didn't think you'd come here." hearing that captivating voice again made Klaus push past Cami and join the conversation with the most charming smile he has.

"It's my fault. Camille and I were watching a play and I couldn't just walk away without meeting her talented sister. Klaus Mikaelson. Camille's friend."

"Y/N. Her sister. Nice to meet you." Y/N politely held out her hand in greeting.

"Believe me, love, the pleasure is all mine." he said, never breaking eye contact with her as he kissed the back of her hand.

The blooming blush on her sister's cheeks and Klaus' widening smug smirk only fueled Cami's fire of jealousy even more.

But Y/N wasn't that easy to get. She refused to be charmed by his tricks and kept a certain distance between herself and the hybrid until the end of the conversation. Much to Klaus' displeasure and Cami's delight.

What Cami didn't realize was that her troubles with Y/N were only just beginning.

Leaving the theater, she hoped your frigidity had put Klaus off. But Cami should have known better and foreseen that your lack of interest will only attract the original hybrid more.

~•♤♤♤•~

It started innocently. Y/N used to come to the pub where Cami worked from time to time and made extra money by singing on stage. Usually her show would last an hour or two, she'd order one tequila from her, they'd talk for a while, and then they'd both go back to their lives. It was a good routine between them and the only form of contact they had.

But there was a real snitch in the pub that day. Cami and her colleague on shift couldn't keep up with serving drinks. So Y/N went behind the bar at their boss's request and helped as much as she could.

And that's how Klaus found her.

Cami noticed him as soon as he entered the bar, just as he noticed her sister. He immediately turned to her, his trademark seductive smirk on his face. What Cami would give for him to look at her the way he looked at your unaware figure...

She tried to get as close to you two as possible to eavesdrop on your conversation.

"I come here every night, and I haven't seen you here before... are you stalking me, love?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm not attracted to alcoholics. Besides, I dare say I've worked here longer than you've even lived here."

"Believe me on my word: you are wrong. So? What are your other hidden talents, woman of many abilities?"

"Deterring intrusive men. Although lately I don't seem to be very good at it. Are you ordering something, or are you just here to vent your sorrows to the bartender?"

"Your best bourbon, love." he said, placing two hundred dollars on the table. Y/N took one bill, turning it over in her hands and eyeing it suspiciously. "Something wrong, love? You're not accusing me of counterfeiting money, are you?"

"So a rich alcoholic? Man, you must either have a good liver or you must be incredibly lucky in your stupidity."

"Now, now, your assumptions are hurting me. Just because I'm here often doesn't mean I drink alcohol every time. Like you."

"Well, if you say so." she poured him a drink, smiling as Klaus drank it down like orange juice. "But only the battle-hardened are able to swallow this damn thing without flinching. Your actions speak against you, Mr. Mikaelson."

"I plead guilty to a little lie. But trust me love, I'm not as easy to read as you think."

"And who said I want to read you?"

"Your sparkling curiosity in those delightfully beautiful eyes."

"A few compliments and smirks are not something particularly worthy of interest. Now excuse me, I'm working."

Cami was so proud of you. You didn't fall for his sweet words. However, her joy was short-lived, as the night progressed and the pub filled up even more, Klaus somehow ended up as your sidekick.

Klaus Mikaelson, the original hybrid, the slayer of vampires, witches, and werewolves, a guy who probably in his long, 1000-year life has not soiled his hands with any work not related to maintaining his reputation, flew around the bar and collected empty glasses, just to stay longer in your presence.

Cami was shocked. You, on the other hand, looked like you were slowly warming up to him.

Cami was getting used to sharing Klaus' attention with you.

When he came to talk to her in the pub, it was often during the hours when you had your performance. He would wave to you, causing you minor reactions (turning your eyes, gently shaking your head in disapproval that he disrupts your concentration, and on good days you put a small dormitory towards him, which he loved).

After the performance, you would join them at the bar and thus stole all the interest of the hybrid. Cami couldn't blame you. You tried awkwardly to float Klaus and talk to her, but the hybrid did not give it easily. That is why there was a quiet compromise between you. You would sit a moment after the performance at the table occupied by Klaus, drank his bourbon with him, and joined Cami for a while to say goodbye to her.

The blonde hated this terrible feeling of jealousy, which was created every time you laughed at Klaus' jokes in the farthest corner of the pub, underestimating the loving look he gave you.

How much she would give to have a gift like her sister! Everyone adored her, she could easily charm anyone with whom she changed a few words. And this time Y/N was taking from her Klaus slowly.

And as long as Klaus stayed her friend, Cami would be fine with this. Really. But one session at the Mikaelson House completely changed the dynamics of Klaus' relationship with O'Connell's sisters.

~•♤♤♤•~

"Rebekah told me you are making progress. You haven't tried to use a dagger on any of them for two months. Congratulations!" she praised him, walking around his studio and looking at his latest works (with relief that he had not yet painted Y/N.)

"It's easy to refrain when they don't want to reveal me at every opportunity." he muttered from his sketchbook.

Camille watched him with interest. Lately, he's been carrying it everywhere with him. Every time he came to the pub, he would sit in the corner in his usual place and persistently sketch something. In his free time, that is, whenever they had sessions together, he also held it on his lap, persistently drawing something in it.

He's been happier lately, too. He didn't look like the grumpy, paranoid one who had forced her to write his life story. It seemed to change over time. Maybe it was the time he spent with his little daughter that affected him so much?

Cami decided not to bring up the subject of Hope for now and ask something more delicate. For example, the contents of his sketchbook.

"What are you drawing there?"

"You should know better than to ask about an artist's work when he hasn't finished his yet, but I would like to hear your opinion about this one."

Cami's heart fluttered involuntarily. It was the first time since his meeting with Y/N that he really focused on her instead of her sister (and she was glad that her opinion mattered to him more than Y/N's). She smiled as she accepted the sketchbook from him, only for it to collapse as she saw the exact portrait of the one person she hoped not to hear about from him in today's session.

Y/N. Y/N in her fucking white dress and singing on stage. He drew the moment when Cami completely lost any chance of being with Klaus. And her sister looked even more perfect than usual.

"And what do you think about it? I wanted to give it to her with some small gift for our first official date. It took her a week to admit that our trips out of town and meetings crossed the line of friendship. You have no idea how long it took me to convince her. At one point, Rebekah was so annoyed by my pleas for help that she was willing to go to Y/N herself and invite her on my behalf. I almost broke her neck trying to talk her out of it. But still, she's my sister, and she helped me set everything up for tonight, it'll be perfect. Y/N will love..."

"Okay, that's enough!" Cami couldn't help but scream at him in anger. "I get it. You're so blinded by her damn charm that you can't see the world outside of her. All right. But I'm not going to listen to this crap about how great and wonderful she is and how she deserves the best because, believe me... she doesn't. I'm not even sure she deserves a scrap of your attention, let alone your adoration! You may think Y/N is an angel, but that's just a facade, Klaus. She's a mean, cruel manipulator, and she's definitely not worth anything you want to give her."

"How can you say that about her?"

"Because I know her! She's not the special muse you think she is or some saintly person. She's a mean, heartless bitch who changes her boyfriend every week. Do you think her feelings for you are real?! That she could love you like I do?!"

"I won't listen to these..." the man stopped, processing his therapist's words in pure surprise. "You love me?"

"Yes. Yes, I love you. And I can't watch you entangle yourself in her web like other men and women before you. She is incapable of any affection, Klaus, not for her own family and certainly not for a stranger. You deserve someone better than her."

"Like who? You?" he asked mockingly, pacing the room angrily.

"I know you're hurt, Klaus, but you have to face the truth. Y/N will never accept your past. She won't take it well that you're a thousand-year-old werewolf/vampire hybrid. She won't handle as many skeletons as you have in your closet. She will not face all your enemies. She won't love you like I do."

"Camille." hope rose in the woman as the original rubbed closer to her. However, he did so only to grab her by the neck and pin her against the wall, cutting off most of her air. She had seen his angry, crazy look many times. But it was never directed at her. She was terrified. "Get. Out. Of. Here. Before I do something terrible and ruin all my chances of being with Y/N. Get out of here before I tear out that miserable, jealous heart beating in your chest for trying to make me feel any doubt about the sincerity of my relationship with your sister. Get out of here while I can still control myself." he growled into her face, releasing her and walking away from her with his fists clenched in anger. Cami looked at him, scared, like a deer at a wolf, trying to assess what she could say or do before she left the room. She took one hesitant step toward the door when Klaus' cold, furious voice stopped her in place. "And Camille! If I hear such slander about Y/N one more time, I will make sure that your supposed love for me disappears with you from the face of the earth. Do we understand each other?"

"You don't know everything about her. Like why we're so cold for each other. Did she ever tell you what she did when our uncle Kieran was dying? Do you remember that day? When you helped me and him get through this, she did everything in her power to make him suffer in his last hours. You know, what was her last word to him? You made yourself that bed. Have a nice nap. She didn't care either about him or me. She left the funeral on my head and didn't even bother to come. If you don't believe me, ask her is that true. You'll know then, why I'm warning you about her."

"I don't need to test the one that holds my heart. Apparently, she must have had some reason to hate your uncle."

"Of course, but maybe you should test her. Despite the weeks you've spent clinging to your hips, you don't really know her." they looked at each other with hard, wounded eyes. Klaus couldn't believe that his friend was capable of such an act of jealousy, and Cami couldn't believe that after so many months spent together, he would just throw her out of his life.

"Goodbye, Camille. As you can guess, you're not welcome here anymore. I wish you happy."

"Me too, to you. You could find it with me." she replied bitterly, leaving the room after giving him one last disappointed, hurt look.

But Cami wasn't about to grieve or let Klaus go yet.

Because if Cami knew something, it was how to make Klaus doubt the pure, good intentions of others. Honestly, he didn't need much pushing. He was completely capable of doing it himself. Especially to distrust in his loved ones, and that was what her sister hated the most. It was only a matter of time before these two would get into a big argument and, for good, lose interest in each other.

Klaus will be hers. She will make sure of it.

Even if it means hurting her own sister.

~•♤♤♤•~

Y/N's POV

I've been waiting on the bridge for 15 minutes. I was starting to get a little nervous that Nik had changed his mind or had a car accident (he was driving like a madman, not caring for his life at all). However, I decided to hold back my paranoid black thoughts and wait five more minutes for him before it officially became clear that he had stood me up.

As I was about to leave, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the notification. A text from Cami. Strange. She has never texted me since THAT day. Before I could open the message, however, a familiar voice distracted me from the device.

"Hello love."

"Hi there! I thought you weren't coming, which would be weird since you wanted to go on a date with me so badly that you were able to... Okay, what happened? You look terrible. Are you okay, Nik?" I asked as I turned to him and noticed the obvious worry on his face.

"Not a very nice way to greet your date, love. By the way, you look beautiful too."

"Don't even joke; something is wrong. I see it. What happened? Do you want to go somewhere and talk about it? We can reschedule this date for another day if you're not feeling well."

"No. God knows when you will accept it again."

"You can joke around and pretend to be confident all you want, but I can see you're tense and nervous."

"Where does such a deduction come from, my personal Sherlock?"

"Very funny, Watson. First of all, you ran your hand through your hair too many times, so now they look messier than usual. You forgot to take your leather jacket, which is like a second skin for you, so you must be hurrying, which means that something happened if you forgot about our meeting or you were so lost in thought that you forgot to look at your watch and you were rushing here like crazy without even glancing at the mirror."

"What made you think I hadn't looked in the mirror?" I smiled, stepping closer to him, causing him even more consternation. I slowly brought my thumb to my lips and licked my fingertip to wipe a large blue stain from his cheek.

"Because most of your face and part of your hair are covered in all of the colors of paint." I burst out laughing, watching his eyes widen in disbelief and a faint shade of red creep into his cheeks. Aww... he gets ashamed. "But do not worry. I think you look cute."

"I'm not cute." he muttered, wrinkling his nose like an offended little child. I snorted, wrapping my arm around his and guiding him towards my apartment. I don't think either of us wanted a big date right now.

"Of course. You are a huge, dangerous puppy."

"Are we at the stage of making up nicknames for ourselves? You must be really obsessed with me by now."

"Are you trying to get out of the conversation about what happened by using that ineffective way to flirt?"

"I don't know, love. Am I? Besides, are you trying to kidnap me or…"

"We're going to my home. And no, I'm not gonna drag you to my bedroom, couch, shower, or wherever your dirty mind wanted."

"Aside from your explicit suggestion of my indecency, I should be offended that you think that my dirty mind needs such a thing as a bed or couch."

"Honestly, I'm not even a bit surprised." I sighed, smiling slightly as his soft chuckle reached my ears.

"Which just proves how well you know me and care about every little detail that concerns me. Just admit that you love me."

"You first, sweetheart."

My mischievous smirk didn't go unanswered. The hybrid gave me an equally defiant, teasing look, staring at me silently. I shook my head, laughing, as I opened the door to the stairwell and let him go through them first.

"Last chance to back out before I know where you live."

"Well, you stalk me anyway." he snorted, leaning against the wall near my apartment door and looking around my floor.

"Any nosy neighbors who will gossip about you bringing the boy home?"

"You've been watching too many romantic comedies. Answering your question, no. One apartment has been empty for a year, and one couple is away on honeymoon. You can scream for help and no one will hear you. The closest neighbors are deaf retirees."

"Then I seriously doubt if it is safe for me to enter this house."

"Don't be such a jerk and come in before I change my mind."

"After such an invitation? With pleasure, love." he sneered, with that goofy smirk of his, walking inside like he owned this place.

"Once you've looked around, you can use the bathroom. First door on the left. And don't you dare go through my stuff!"

"Who do you think I am, darling?" I raised an eyebrow questioningly. I took a breath to give him a full answer, but he beat me to it. "All right. Don't answer this question. I'll be right back."

I was grining like a fool to myself as I prepared some snacks and drinks for movie night. The prospect of cuddling up to a man while watching some stupid film seemed like a nice end to the day. With any luck, he might have admitted what had so disturbed him earlier.

That was until I remembered the unread text from Cami.

Klaus is the original (first ever) hybrid of vampire and werewolf; watch out for him and do not invite him home under any circumstances. We had a fight a while ago, and I don't want you to get hurt because of me. Call me as soon as you can, Cami.

I stared blankly at the message. Of course, the first guy I really liked had to be a fucking vampire—one of the creatures that caused my brother's death.

"Are you okay, love?" I turned to him. He somehow managed to wash off all the paint, leaving only the wet ends of his curly hair. He still looked cute with that caring look of his on me. Stop. I couldn't fall for a vampire. Never. Not after what they did to my family.

"You know, Cami texted me." his suddenly tense, flustered demeanor told me all I needed to know. "Is there something you wanted to tell me?"

"Y/N..." he tried to take a step towards me, but I moved away from him so that we were separated by the couch.

"No! Stay right there!" I shouted, raising my hand in protection to knock any stupid idea out of his head. His disappointed, sad face made me feel unfounded guilt. "Listen, I don't want to know what's going on between you and my sister..."

"There's nothing. She was my therapist, but after today…"

"I don't care! Just let me and her stay out of this supernatural world, please. I lost one sibling because of your stupid war with witches, in which my uncle was involved. I don't want to lose another member of my family, because some vampires don't like that they don't have enough power in this town, Klaus. So please just leave me alone before it would be too hard for both of us to forget about each other."

"That's it? You want to put an end to whatever is going on between us before it even begins?"

"What exactly are the odds that an immortal vampire and a mortal who hates supernatural creatures of any kind will make a good match?"

"Somehow it didn't matter until now. And it wouldn't have if you hadn't found out about it like this."

'"The fact that you say something like that only proves that I'm right. I'm not going to change my beliefs and risk my life and my sister's life just because you're annoyingly handsome. Whatever could be between us, it's doomed to failure."'

"Why? Why are you so afraid of being with me? And why would I ever hurt you or Camille?"

"Cami didn't tell you? Since you were so close to her, you probably know what happened to our brother and how my dear uncle, witches, and vampires contributed to it. Or maybe you forced her to be your therapist, you're not really friends at all, and you were just using her all this time? Am I right?"

"Partly." I snorted, shaking my head in disbelief. How could I have been so stupid? "No! Y/N, just give me ten minutes! That's all. Ten minutes and you can tell me to go to hell, and I will obey your every order."

"It won't change anything anyway."

"I think I've proven many times that I can change your mind. Just give me a chance."

"Why do you even want to keep me around? I'm just an ordinary human; I don't have any special powers or anything else you might find useful. Why would you go through so much trouble?"

"You're everything but ordinary. You caught my attention the first time I saw you, and when I heard how you sang, I knew I fell for you instantly like a foolish teenager. But when I talked to you for the first time, I knew you were the one for me. I gave you my heart on that day, and with every passing hour near you, it only confirmed my belief that it will always belong to you." he walked around the couch, standing in front of me and staring at me with those mesmerizing eyes of his, filled with sincere, deep devotion. How in the bloody hell was I supposed to resist him?

"Klaus..."

"Hush, huh. I still have 6 minutes, love. You're special to me and I love..."

"I'm not perfect, Klaus. I've done a lot of stupid, horrible things in my life that you have no idea about. You can't just stand here and say you love me when you don't know me at all."

"I don't care who you used to be or what you did in the past. What matters is what is here and now. And right now..." he grabbed my hand, bringing it close to his chest and the frantically beating heart that was probably beating as fast as mine. "I know that there is no other person that I want to be with more than you. There is no other person on this earth who can understand me and bring me such comfort as I find in your arms whenever I come to you. Despite our differences, we all belong to each other. And I know that you can feel it as I do. I throw the power. I don't want to rule New Orleans if that means I'm going to lose you. I just… I just want you to be okay."

I looked at him carefully, trying to detect any hint of falsehood in his words, but I couldn't find anything against him in his eyes or in his determined facial expression. If he was desperate enough to keep me by his side, even at the cost of abandoning his rule of New Orleans, then maybe he really cared about me?

"Is that another way of saying you love me?"

"Is that another way of saying I changed your mind?"

"I will never become a vampire. You know about it?"

"You didn't want anything to do with me 10 minutes ago. I think you can still change your mind."

"As confident as always." I murmured, pulling him into our first, long-awaited kiss. And I hoped, the first of many more.

He was right. There were no other arms, no other lips, and no other touch that I wanted to feel than his. And as much as I feared and how wrong it was to get involved with a vampire after my brother died in the crossfire of this city's power war, I felt there was no place in the world other than his arms where I could feel so right, like I always belonged there.

And I think we both knew I'd end up being a vampire anyway. He would do anything to convince me. And it probably wouldn't take him that long. After all, he was very special.

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