I absolutely NEED a one shot where klaus like always gets a hard 0n when Yn around or he thinks of her
His family teases him and Yn doesn’t have clue about his crush on her
Helpless
Klaus couldn't help the way his body reacted to her.
It wasn't his fault that she was always so perfect.
In fact, Klaus blamed Rebekah.
She had been the one to befriend Y/N, they met at Mystical Falls High School when Rebekah tried out for the cheerleaders. Caroline had been salty about it but Y/N was happy to invite new people in.
Rebekah took a liking to her in an instant and ended up inviting her round.
That's how Klaus met her.
Finding an unknown girl stood in his kitchen in only a tiny little skort and what could barely be called a top.
Y/N only smiled at him and introduced herself as Rebekah's friend.
The idea of his younger sister making a friend so easily would have amused him but his thoughts had quickly ran away from him as he took her in.
His viewing was cut short when Rebekah shoved him out the way.
"Sorry Y/N, that's Nik." She mumbled as she opened the cupboard to look for something for Y/N to eat. "Damn. We'll have to order something, come on." She shrugged and grabbed Y/N's hand, pulling her back upstairs.
Y/N was over often and Klaus had become accustomed to seeing her in her cheer outfit but that didn't mean he didn't feel anything.
Rebekah had only noticed it when she saw him pull a pillow over his lap part way through a movie.
She knew that Klaus had a little crush on Y/N, that wasn't hard to realise with how often he looked at her and how easily his lips upturned in her presence but realising the extent made her smirk.
Rebekah would start 'lending' clothes to Y/N the day after a sleepover, having her dress in tight little shorts and tube tops. Convincing her that she didn't need to wear a bra round the house.
Klaus was almost drooling.
His fingers dug into the couch when she sat beside him after Rebekah had spread herself out across the other sofa. Klaus was too focused on not staring at Y/N's nipples to notice Rebekah's obvious game play.
When it had gotten late and Y/N started getting tired but the film wasn't finished Rebekah decided to push it.
"You can always lay down. Nik doesn't mind, he even has a pillow. Just rest on his lap." Her words sounded to passive and innocent that Y/N just glanced to Klaus who, no matter how badly he knew he should've said no, nodded his head and adjusted the pillow.
Before he knew it his fingers were stroking her hair, his hips desperately holding back when she made small sounds on contempt.
Once she was asleep he couldn't help but touch her face, trace each feature. Bekah had gone to the bathroom, leaving him alone with her and his thoughts. He couldn't help but stroke her bottom lip with his thumb. As soon as he heard the door shut his hands were pulled away and he was sat back against the cushions but Rebekah knew what he wanted.
She started having lollipops on hand, always having one to give to Y/N.
Klaus was losing it.
Once or twice she'd forgotten to finish her lolly, leaving it somewhere by accident. Klaus would end up licking her taste fresh from it, his eyes closing as he sucked her flavour down.
He could just about restrain himself from acting on his feelings.
Until all his other siblings were woken and also caught onto the situation.
Kol would shamelessly flirt with Y/N, purposefully trying to make Klaus flip out.
Even Elijah had picked up on it. He'd clear his throat and glance Klaus down, reminding his brother to cover his arousal with an amused smile on his face when Niklaus would go a beat red and pull a pillow over himself again.
Kol had started calling it his 'problem pillow'.
Rebekah was subtle but Kol? Brutal.
"Don't tell me Nik's cum on his pillow again!" He'd call loud enough that it made Klaus shoot up out of his seat in panic that Y/N had heard but not quite loud enough that it would travel up the stairs to where Y/N actually was.
"Someone's in a sticky situation-" He'd jest before a book was lobbed at his head.
"You know Y/N if you're feeling stressed, I'm positive Nik would pound it out of you." He'd grin but Y/N didn't get it; thank god.
Klaus would shove Kol out the room, out the house sometimes and storm up the stairs.
Was it embarrassing? Of course.
Was it hilarious for the others? Obviously.
Once Y/N figured it out and joined in on the teasing it was too much to bare.
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"Look at the shadows, Pauline, aren't they pretty?"
"Mmmmph."
He goes over to the window, and she follows his slippered footsteps, her boots clacking noisily on the floor. She hears the window open, but the inside of the suit is as hot and sticky as ever.
"Lovely breeze today. Isnt't the sunset pretty?"
"H, hmmph, mmmmgh."
"Shall we go to the night market for dinner? I'm craving skewers and a nice milkshake."
"Mmmmmmmph." Breathing heavily, she tugs at the tight collar, at the locks sealing the corset and hood and gag in place, slowly, the only outward sign that she is even now seething with pent-up rage. As usual, nothing gives, nothing so much as shifts to give her a little fresh air, a little space to breathe in the sweaty itchy dark.
"Want out?" Edward plays on her vexation, goads her further.
"Mmmmmmph. Mmmph-mm."
"Sounds like a 'no' to me."
"Mmmmmmph." Quiet, firm, with no sign that she is trying desperately not to explode with fury.
"Oh well. More kebabs for me!" He takes the short leash, and locks it to the ring in her collar, pulling her along far faster than she can comfortably walk with her blindfold. Not that he cares. Not that she has a choice. Not that she can even protest into the gag, deeply and horribly familiar with the punishment which he would mete out for even the smallest sign of rebellion.
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Content warnings: team whump, noncon touch, taunting, recapture
“Do your friends here even know the real you?”
Roux stands with their feet apart, chin up, tracking Ambrose only with their eyes as he circles them. They try to look annoyed, unworried. They’re not entirely sure they’re succeeding—not with those henchmen restraining their team, the group on their knees behind Roux.
“You hide behind a false veneer of flippancy and stoicism,” Ambrose continues, pacing unhurriedly, “but have you told them how you used to scream at me? How you used to cry for me?”
Roux waits for a controlled beat of silence before flatly asking, “You got a point here, Lacrosse?”
He flashes them a humorless smile. “I’m just curious, mon cher. You say these are your friends—”
“My team,” Roux corrects.
“—but how much have you told them about me?” Ambrose’s voice slows to the languid pace of molasses as he passes behind them. “I made you. Everything that you are is my accomplishment.”
“That’s n—” A finger drags across his shoulder blades. He flinches forward with a vocalized grimace.
“I never quite trained that reaction out of you,” Ambrose muses, sounding pleased. “Ah, well, I still think it’s cute.”
A furious burn rises to Roux’s cheeks. “All you are,” they growl, straightening up, “is an egomaniacal fucking sadist. You’re not responsible for any part of me.”
Ambrose sighs. “Perhaps you’re right. You’ve changed since you left me.” His hands glide over Roux’s shoulders to squeeze their biceps like a straitjacket. They try to twist away, but his voice in their ear makes them freeze: “I think it’s time for you to come home, mon petit Roux.”
-
Tag list: @theelvishcowgirl @aviandaleks @gala1981 @laniakea0100 @spectral-whumpy-writer @whatwasmyprevioususername
Despite the appearance of being a couple, there is a deep and humiliating imbalance of power between the couple: viz. his eyes are not totally deprived of sight, and his mouth remains ungagged. Most importantly, his fingers are unimpeded, so that he can change the channel and volume at will, eat and drink as he watches while she remains blind, mute, and helpless. When he has had his fun, he can strip off the layers of tight and sweaty latex, sighing in pleasure as the layers come off, and he may strip down, remove her mouth plug to relieve his bladder. Even as the warm and humiliating stream trickles into her mouth, she can only moan in frustration, her bladder desperate for release, throbbing worse and worse the more he relieves himself into her mouth. He can pleasure himself with her, take a shower, a nap, and she remains in the thick and stifling layers and mitts, unable to free herself, unable to loosen the tight corset and choking collar even a little. He plugs her mouth and tells her to take the suit off herself, watching as she paws blindly at the seams, moaning in frustration each time the buckles and straps slip from her soft and useless paws.
