#look at her I CAN BARELY LIVE IN PEACE ♡

[wholoveseggs]

Hey love! How about a Haylijah one shot based if the time they slept together in the show. Like season 2 episode 9

Wishes

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

A smutty extended version of haylijah's first time together.

♡♡ Thanks for the request lovely anon! This scene iconic and all I did was fill in the blanks ♡♡

3.1k words - Warnings: soo angsty, smut, fluff, oral sex, more angst...

Hayley walked into the living room to see Elijah sitting by the fireplace. The soft glow of the fire lit up the room as she looked at him. He seemed lost in thought and she hesitated to approach him, unsure of her welcome.

"She's asleep," Hayley said softly, standing awkwardly at the entrance of the room.

Elijah looked up at her, giving her a small smile. The way he looked at her always made her breath catch in her throat. It was like the intensity of his gaze could strip her soul bare and it both excited and terrified her.

She was so nervous and torn, she knew she had to tell him about the betrothal. She didn't want him to hear it from anyone else, especially Klaus.

Hayley had tried to tell him earlier, but she couldn't get the words out. It felt too final, like she was breaking them.

She was afraid to lose him. She didn't have much experience with love, or relationships for that matter. No one made her feel safe the way he did. She never wanted to let him go.

"It's so quiet, with Klaus and Rebekah gone," she was babbling now, trying to delay the inevitable. "So, we didn't get to say our wishes. Can I tell you mine?"

Elijah looked at her, a bit confused by her nervousness. She was usually so guarded with her emotions. He nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"It's a hope, actually... that you'll understand what I have to tell you." Her voice shook slightly, and her hands were trembling.

"And what is it?" He asked, his voice gentle and kind.

"My wolves. I think I figured out a way to release them from the witches." She began, her hands twisting together.

Elijah stood, his expression curious. She didn't want to hurt him, she wished she could avoid it.

"They could control their turning without the rings, and bring peace to our home so that Hope could return to us. But, there's a catch... I have to marry Jackson."

The look on his face made her stomach drop, and she wished she could take the words back. She could see the pain in his eyes, the sadness and disappointment. He quickly hid it all away, his noble heart not wanting her to see his heartbreak.

She had to get him to understand, to explain that it wasn't something she wanted. She didn't want Jackson, she didn't want anyone else but him.

In another time, another place, she would want to be his, only his.

"It's a, um, mystical ceremony, and- and an Alpha bonding ritual...?"

His silence made her want to scream. He was so calm, but she could tell it was a front. He looked away, staring into the fireplace. 

"Elijah... I know that you and I haven't been close recently, but... you have to know that this isn't about him. I don't love Jackson, but..." She watched him nod to himself, a storm brewing behind his dark eyes. "At the same time, I couldn't marry him and still be involved with you."

She had been worrying all day about what his reaction would be, she thought maybe he would get angry, perhaps a bit jealous. But, not like this. Not the cold indifference. The silence. It felt like he was miles away.

"I don't know, I should just-," she turned to walk away, unable to see him in such pain because of her.

She felt his hand on her arm and he spun her around, pressing his hand into the small of her back and pulling her body flush against his. He crashed his lips down onto hers, and she kissed him back, pouring everything she felt for him into that one kiss.

He broke the kiss, fire and pain dancing in his eyes.

"Marry him," he whispered, his dark gaze roaming over her face, as though he was trying to etch this moment in his mind forever. As though he knew it was the last time he would taste her lips.

"What?" She gasped, shocked by his words. She thought his kiss meant he would fight for her.

He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his hand cupping her cheek. There was so much love in his eyes, so much sadness and loss. It hurt her heart just to look at him.

"Listen to me--," he began, cradling her face in his hands, "The only way that this city will be safe for Hope's return is if you have unified your people, and I have unified my own. Now, Davina will eventually lead her witches, and whatever that girl may be, she is no enemy to your child. Do what you need to bring your daughter home."

He backed away from her, she had never seen such longing in his eyes.

"This is my wish for you." He said softly.

Here he was, her sweet Elijah, encouraging her to do what was best for Hope, for her pack, but not what was best for him. She thought back to the last time they kissed and what she had said to him: 'Come on, Elijah. For once in your immortal life, can you just not be so noble?'

He was always putting everyone else first. He would sacrifice his own happiness for her. It was why she loved him, and why she couldn't have him. She reached out and touched his face, her fingers lingering against his soft skin. Their eyes met, a million unspoken words hanging in the air.

Everything in him was screaming to hold her, to keep her from leaving, to beg her not to marry Jackson. But, he had made a promise to her, to his family, to keep her safe. He wouldn't let his selfish desires ruin the plan to bring his niece home. He had to let her go.

But maybe, he would allow himself one last moment of weakness. To be selfish just for tonight.

His lips met hers, rough and demanding, and she kissed him back, with an equal passion. They moved across the room, crashing into the walls and knocking books from shelves. His hands were in her hair, and she ripped his tie from his neck.

Here he was, her Elijah, holding her like it would be the last time. Because it was the last time. She could feel it in her bones. She knew this was their goodbye. She tried to put everything she was feeling into her kisses, tried to let him know how much he meant to her.

Elijah finally had his beautiful wolf right where he wanted her. He tried not to think about how this was the last time he would ever hold her. The last time he would feel her soft lips against his.

He carried her to the nearby coffee table, his hands tugging at her clothes.

"Elijah," she sighed, as his mouth moved along her neck. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her hips rocking against him. She could feel him, hard and hot between her thighs.

The way his name fell from her lips sent a shock of heat through his body. He needed to be closer to her. He needed more. He would always need more.

Her hands gripped the exposed skin of his chest, he was warm and firm, his muscles flexing under her touch. She wanted him so badly, she wanted to forget the world and just have him. 

For the first time, for the last time.

She tore his shirt open, sending buttons flying across the room. He grinned against her skin, kissing down her chest, tugging at her bra.

His lips moved down her body, along her stomach and lower. His hands pulled her panties down her thighs and she propped herself up on her elbows, watching him kiss the soft delicate skin there.

She couldn't look away from him. The sight of him, the only man she had ever loved, between her legs. His eyes met her, his body illuminated by the fire behind him.

His hands grabbed her hips, pulling her towards his mouth. She moaned, falling back onto the table as his tongue teased her. He knew just what she needed, just where to touch her to send waves of pleasure through her body.

He was a skilled lover, attentive and considerate, like she knew he would be. But it was more than that, it was like he was making love to her with his mouth. She could feel it in the way his lips moved against her, his tongue swirling and stroking, his hands holding her tight enough to leave bruises.

He let out a soft hum, a vibration that ran through her body. She had never felt this good. No one had ever touched her the way he did. It was like they were made for each other.

Her fingers tangled in his dark hair, her hips rocking against his mouth. She was chasing that glorious high, and she could feel herself getting closer and closer.

She was a writhing, moaning mess, and he couldn't get enough of it. He loved watching her fall apart. Of all the women he had loved, all the women he had made love to, no one could compare to his beautiful wolf.

She could feel the tension building, a warmth growing deep in her belly, a pleasure that was about to boil over.

"Don't stop," she begged, and he didn't.

Her back arched, her muscles tensing, and she let out a soft gasp as the release hit her, wave after wave of intense pleasure. He licked her slowly, prolonging the ecstasy until she was spent and limp on the table.

He kissed his way back up, her small frame trembling slightly from her climax. He had never seen anything more beautiful. He could feel her heart pounding, her blood rushing through her veins. She was intoxicating.

"I need you," she breathed, and he crushed his lips to hers, their bodies pressing against each other.

He didn't say a word, just picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, setting her down on the soft bed.

They quickly shed the rest of their clothing and she pulled him down on top of her, kissing him passionately. He tasted like whiskey and something uniquely him. Something she couldn't get enough of.

Elijah didn't want this night to end, he was one of the most powerful creatures in the world, yet he was powerless against time. It would continue, whether he wanted it to or not.

Hayley pushed him onto his back, straddling him. She kissed his jaw, his neck, down his chest. She had never felt more alive. Her nails raked along his chest, making him hiss. She loved the way he reacted to her, the way his muscles rippled under her touch.

She lowered herself onto him, letting out a soft moan. Her eyes met his, his hands resting on her hips. They fit together perfectly, like they were made for each other. It was almost overwhelming, the sensation of having him inside her.

"Hayley," he murmured, and it sounded like a prayer.

She began to move, her hips rocking back and forth, her hands on his chest. She had never experienced anything like this before. It was like they were one. She could feel every inch of him, her body responding to his.

He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, that no one else had ever held his heart the way she did. That no one ever would. But, he knew it would just make this harder.

So instead, he held her, and let her have this moment. He would give her everything he had, and then let her go.

She quickened her pace, his hands gripping her hips tightly. She was beautiful, the way her head fell back, her soft moans filling the air.

He watched her, taking in every detail. The way her lips parted, the way her body moved, the way her breath hitched.

Her eyes met his and it was like time stopped. She could feel the tension coiling low in her belly, the pressure building.

She could see the emotions playing across his face. He looked like a man in pain. She had never seen anyone look at her like that, like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.

She wondered what her life would be like if he was the father of her child. In his eyes she saw that perfect cookie cutter life, the one she always longed for. She imagined a world where he was her husband, where he would watch their child grow. She didn't want to be an Alpha. She didn't want the responsibilities. She didn't want to marry Jackson.

All she wanted was to be his.

She leaned forward, her breasts pressing against his chest. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close.

They moved together, a slow, steady rhythm, making it last, fitting together perfectly, their hearts beating as one.

He rolled them over, settling between her thighs, his hands cradling her face. His dark gaze was so intense, so full of emotion.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, and it was like her heart was breaking. She wished this was real, that they had met under different circumstances, in a different life.

He was close, and so was she. The pleasure was building, and she didn't want it to end. She wanted to stay here forever, in his arms, with him.

"Please," she whispered, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Please, Elijah."

He kissed her deeply, their tongues intertwining, as their bodies moved together, breaking apart and coming back together.

She could feel him, his body responding to hers, his heart beating in time with hers. They both were teetering on the edge, and she needed him to take her over.

She pulled her mouth from his, looking deep into his eyes.

"Make me yours," she whispered, and that was all it took.

He kissed her neck then sank his fangs into her flesh, the bite sending her over the edge.

It was the most intense orgasm of her life. Her body shuddered, and she cried out his name. It was like her soul had been split open, her emotions raw and exposed.

His release followed soon after, his body trembling as he spilled himself inside her. It was almost overwhelming, the intensity of it. Nothing compared.

They lay there, their bodies still connected, neither wanting to move, to break the spell.

He pressed his forehead against hers, breathing her in, his hands cradling her face. Her skin was flushed, her eyes shining.

He kissed her again and again and again, slow and gentle, savoring the moment.

"Elijah, I--" She began, not sure what she was going to say. She wanted to tell him how she felt, but it would only make it all so much more difficult.

He silenced her with a kiss, his hand tangling in her hair.

"I know," he said softly, and she knew that he did.

They held each other, her head on his chest, his fingers running through her hair. The moment was perfect, and she wished it would never end.

The soft cries of Hope interrupted their blissful reverie. They shared a smile, and Hayley moved to get out of bed and check on her.

"Let me," he said, getting dressed quickly.

She watched him as he left the room, admiring the way his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders.

She listened as he took care of her daughter, a warm feeling spreading through her chest. She would have to leave him in the morning, but right now, in this moment, she was happy.

Hope's cries turned into laughter, and she heard Elijah singing softly. She couldn't understand the words, but the melody was soothing. It sounded like an old lullaby.

She wondered if this was what it would have been like if they had met under different circumstances. She could imagine them raising their children together, a family. It was a dream that would never come true.

When Elijah returned she was pretending to sleep, she didn't want him to see her tears. He climbed into bed beside her, and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

He didn't want her to marry Jackson, but he had made her a promise, to keep her safe. His vows mattered more than his feelings, his happiness.

He kissed her hair, mouthing, 'I love you', a promise he made to the stars.

They fell asleep like that, wrapped in each other's arms, and if he had his way, they would wake up the same way everyday, from this day until the end of time.

But, fate is not kind, and love is not for the selfish.

Hayley woke up alone, the faint scent of Elijah still lingering on the sheets. It was a bittersweet reminder of what she had given up.

She could smell coffee and bacon, he was downstairs cooking breakfast. Elijah was a hopeless romantic, even at the worst of times.

She smiled sadly, tracing the curve of his pillow, imagining his face. He had held her all night, his arms wrapped around her, keeping her safe. She could feel his loss in her bones, the empty space inside her, the space where he had been.

Hope cooed and giggled from her crib, reaching up her tiny hands to her mother. Hayley scooped her up and carried her downstairs, inhaling the scent of home-cooked food.

Elijah was humming a tune, dressed impeccably, as usual. He looked like nothing had changed, like they didn't have a lifetime of longing and heartache between them.

She admired him, his broad shoulders, his strong jaw. The way his biceps flexed as he whisked the eggs. He looked good, his dark hair neatly styled, his clothes crisp and clean.

She leaned in close to him, grabbing some fruit from the counter and their eyes met.

For a moment, it was like the world had stopped. There was only the two of them, and the love that burned between them.

Elijah wanted to kiss her, just one last time, but he knew that if he did, he would never be able to let her go.

Hayley felt her heart skip a beat, her cheeks flushing. She could see it in his eyes, the love and the pain. He leaned in and kissed Hope on the head instead, the infant smiling happily.

They didn't have to say anything, their feelings were clear. They both wanted more, but they knew that it wasn't possible. They had to be ripped apart by duty.

Perhaps if they knew the future that awaited them, it would be a different story, a different outcome.

But, as they say, time is the enemy, and love is never enough.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #haylijah #hayley marshall #tvdu #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #haylijah smut #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

[chlobeale]

BRITTANY SNOW | MENTAL HEALTH AWARENESS MONTH — WHOSE CHILD IS THIS ??? ♡♡♡

#look at her I CAN BARELY LIVE IN PEACE ♡ #brittany anne snow #brittany snow #mental heath awareness #her smile #happiestplaceonearth #💌

[seattlesellie]

Can you write an ellie fic where she's getting off to photos of reader and moaning readers name and reader walks in on her

million times yes <3 ☁️🤍🐚🌫️

warnings: mdni!, masturbation, ellie’s a little bit of a weirdo, ellie gets caught.

Oops ♡

For you, being Ellie’s roommate was... hard. Unwashed dishes, the occasional sight of her boxer briefs messily laying around on the living room floor (“They fell from the laundry basket” she told), old crumpled yellow papers on the fuzzy carpet, an unwashed ashtray and a shit-ton of disorganized cards and pins adorning every single corner of the apartment.

But for for Ellie, oh, for Ellie it was even harder.

She always had a soft spot for things she’d never get. Your empty shampoo bottles never bothered her, neither did your habit of constantly forgetting to blow out the vanilla scented candles you lit once in a while, even after she told you they could be a fire hazard every. single. time.

What bothered Ellie, weren’t your complains, and neither were the repeating sounds and buzzes of your alarm clock followed by exactly eight hits on the snooze button (she counts, the walls are pretty thin).

What bothered Ellie, is that you didn’t give a single fuck about her. Or at least, that’s what she had convinced herself of.

When you’d lounge pretty on the couch, nestled within a cozy woolen blanket, your fingers tirelessly swiping and swiping and swiping through every single dating app known to man, she’d watch you intently, and stare.

It wasn’t because she was judging you, god knows she had a tinder phase herself (Amanda was her last straw. she said Ellie talked about her roommate “too much”, that she “needed to figure that shit out”, and then added a huff and a sigh followed by a “fucking lesbians, man”)

It was because she didn’t fucking get it. Could you not see what’s right in front of you? you didn't seem to... grasp the obvious. Don’t get it wrong, Ellie was not overconfident, and neither was she cocky. She just… noticed. She was observant by nature, and she knew, she was convinced shed never heard you laugh the way you do with her, with anybody else in the world. When your best friends were over for a girls night— even then, she would hear muted laughter and the occasional screech (barely audible over the backdrop of "The Smiths" blaring through her headphones) but never, ever, did that breathy, real, borderline on wheezing sound escape your mouth when you were with them. It was idly saved for her.

She’d take her earphones out— because perhaps she’d missed it, maybe she was delusional, maybe you did laugh like that— and then, plug them back in when she was met with silence or the gentle symphony of peaceful snores, and return to the solace of her music. She’d hollow in deep slumber, and have incredibly bizarre dreams of her pretty roommate roaming and floating around the apartment only in her underwear— and for some reason, a horn on her head. Dreams were fucking weird, man.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

“The Truman Show” played on tv. Jim Carey just made a funny face, and Ellie shoved another slice of greasy, brooklyn pizza in her mouth. She chewed, loudly (you sighed) and wiped her lips on her shoulder.

“I’d literally lose it if I found out my life was a tv show” you remarked, your eyes shifting from the remaining pizza to the flickering television screen.

“Meh” Ellie shrugged.

“I’d lose it if it was a video game though. Imagine if like— someone controlled every single movement you made… scary, man”

She huffed, and threw the pizza crust on the table. It fell on the floor. These fucking ants would come again, you knew they would! you gave her a stern look.

“Sorry” she softly sighed, and bent down to pick the crust off the pavement. Her boxers poked through her sweats, you looked across the room, and then you looked again. God.

“Plug you on their PS5, and go… ham and stuff” you giggled.

“Wild shit…” she shrugged. “Wild shit”

Jim Carey’s character just met the deepest corner of its own little world.

Ellie’s eyes were glued to the screen, even though she’d seen that flick about a million times.

You scrolled through your phone mindlessly. You know she hated when you did that while watching something with her— but you did it anyways. Something about the way her eyebrows scrunched together when she peaked at the screen through the corner of her eye always made your heart flutter. She pouted, and you tried to hide the way your lips curled upwards into a small smile.

“Should I post this on insta?” you questioned, handing ellie your phone. She took it in her hands, and the brightness was so high her eyes twinkled.

She bit her bottom lip, and then her top one.

“You’re like… half naked in that” she huffed. She wasn’t wrong, the bikini was so so tiny and the salt water covering your body, making it practically glisten in the sun, didn’t help the sensual undertones of said picture.

“I know” you stated.

She looked at you, and then looked at the screen again. Don’t look too long, she thought to herself. She handed the phone back to you, and stared at the television. Great, she just missed the best part!

“Is that a no?” you quipped.

“That’s a… who are you posting that for?” she tried asking casually, and mask her jealousy with curiosity.

There must be someone. there just must. Perhaps it’s for that girl you talked to on Bumble… shit, maybe its for that blonde from work or the one with the long braids that waved to you for too long who Ellie had made her arch enemy. Or maybe it was for that fucking ex girl—

“Why would you think I’m posting it… for someone?”

Ellie sighed, and rolled her eyes.

“Cause you look good in it.”

She gulped, and moved a hair strand from her face. it itched, all of a sudden.

“Or like— you look naked or something.”

You rolled your eyes back, and yawned.

“Is that a no?” you questioned.

“No what?” she snickered.

“Is that a no i shouldn’t post?” you removed a microscopic piece of lint that landed on her hoodie, it made her shiver.

She let out a shaky breath, and toyed with the string that hung loose from her black nike socks.

“Why are you askin’ if you’re gonna post it anyways?”

You smirked. For some reason you couldn’t quite put your finger on, sometimes, conversations with her weren’t exactly easy.

“Who said i’ll post? I asked you because I needed your advice”

“Sure” she stated, and slid off the couch.

“Post it” she crossed her arms.

You nodded. post!

You already had one like. Oh, it’s that blonde girl from work. fire emoji, winky face emoji, red heart emoji. Nice!

“M’going to bed” she groaned, and shoved a tiny mushroom in her mouth.

“Ugh. gooey”

You looked up from your phone, and shut it off with a click.

“But you’ll miss the best part!” you pouted.

“Tired” she shrugged. Her face scrunched together. how is she so fucking adorable.

“M’kay… night!”

Ellie dragged her body across the dim lit living-room, and almost slipped on one of her socks.

“Mmmmight” she mumbled.

“Say it nicely!” you yelled across the room, it echoed.

“Good nightttt”

The door slammed shut. Ellie sat down on the bed, and stared at the wall. She cracked her knuckles, one by one, and threw her head back on the mattress, wrapped up by green flannel sheets. Her head landed on the pillow with a soft thud, and she took a long, deep breath. She wasn’t even tired, why did she lie?

That image just took over her brain again. She had only glimpsed it briefly, not truly absorbing its details, before reluctantly handing the device back to you. If she stared any longer— her cheeks would burn a bright pink.

The screen of her Android glowed in the darkness, so she grabbed it. Always on silent mode.

A message from Joel; “Got Maria to iron some of your clothes. remember Janet from across the street? She passed away last week, LOL (lots of love).”

Ellie scratched her eyes, chuckled, and took a screenshot. no fucking way.

A message from Dina; “can u send me some lives on candy crush?”

Followed by another one;

“send them right now or die”

So she scrolled some more.

Instagram; “dinawoodward, jessethekinggglol, courtneycameron and others liked this post!”

She tapped, and thats when her eyes popped out of her head. she suddenly felt parched. She looked around the room— that water-bottle she kept from two weeks ago after a trip to the local bodega must be around there somewhere.

It was not, so there you stood, almost half-naked, a playful smile gracing your lips, the sun-kissed sand partially covering your stomach, and the gentle touch of saltwater caressing your chest. A pair of brown sunglasses adorned your face, with the serene sea standing still in the background.

Ellie blinked once. And then once more, and then she zoomed in.

Her face twitched, and her breath hitched inside her throat. It felt as though her breath had been captured and confined, held hostage within her, struggling to find its release.

She double tapped, and began typing;

“If I could, I’d fuck the shit out of you”

She stared at her keyboard, and breathed deeply. What would happen if she, actually pressed send. Would you come barging inside her room and throw something at her? the green colored vase, maybe? or would you delete her comment, pretend it never happened and move on? perhaps you’d think she was just fucking around, and scold her for typing something like that where everyone could see. “You’re such a creep, el!” she could almost hear you say it. And she could almost feel the way your palm would slam right into her shoulder and nudge it her the side. It made her ears feel warm.

She zoomed in on your tits. Ellie’s face flushed a pretty, dusty pink.

Then, she zoomed in on your stomach, and her nipples perked up inside her hoodie. They grazed the material softly, and she let out a shaky breath.

When she zoomed in on your smile, she smirked at the screen. it made her feel warm and fuzzy and happy and she hated every minute of it. “Never gonna get it” echoed in her ears, a reminder of the "truth" tugged at her heart.

When she zoomed in on your covered cunt, she nearly went cross eyed. She could almost see the outline of your lips— or was she tripping?

Her cunt clenched around absolute nothingness inside her boxers. Was she… getting fucking wet over this?

She gulped, as waves of guilt washed over her. and then, she zoomed in on your tits again, and she felt so turned on she couldn’t even remember what the word guilt even meant.

She heard the echo of your giggle reverberating through the corridor, filling the space with a sound that made her stomach turn. the rhythm of your footsteps grew louder, gradually approaching your room situated just across from hers.

Perhaps you chuckled at something amusing one of your fucking bumble buddies had to say. She lightly bumped her forehead against the screen of her phone, her lips pressed together, forming a thin line.

Your door slammed shut, and a tune began.

“you’re so gorgeous… i cant say anything to your face, cause look at your face…”

How fucking ironic.

“Shut up alexa!” you groaned at the device, causing ellie to stifle a giggle, before she felt the pool flow down her boxers.

The apartment descended into a profound silence, save for the sound of Ellie’s labored breaths echoing in the stillness. she leaned in closer, scrutinizing the image on the screen, alternating between zooming in and zooming out, and crosser her legs together.

When the imagination of your bare tits popped up in her mind, your nipple poking through as you held them together on the screen, it ached inside of her.

Would it really be so wrong if she…?

There was no real harm in it, she thought. It was either this, or close her eyes and rub one off in the darkness, and even then— she had a nagging intuition that you would somehow find your way into her thoughts.

Woudl it really make her that much of a fucking pervert?

Ellie groaned, and brought her knees up to her stomach. Her phone was still in her hand, and that picture teased, and teased, and teased till she couldn’t handle it anymore.

Fuck it. if she did this, she was going to do it right. And she needed to see it close up— and not through her cracked fucking screen she wasn’t bothered fixing for two whole weeks now.

She opened the screen of her laptop, and when she sat on the black leather rolling chair, It felt fucking uncomfortable down there. It was sleek, and she could feel her cunt slide off on the fabric of her boxers.

“Fuuuuck me” she hissed under her breath.

www.instagram.com

Right click.

Your profile, right click. Her hand held a tremor.

You were the focal point, the star of the show, illuminating her old, black HP laptop. The screen, adorned with a thin layer of dust, caught her attention. She leaned in and blew gently, causing the particles to disperse and float away.

She swallowed hard, her throat constricting as she continued to gaze intently. Taking a deep breath, she attempted to steady herself, but the inhalation felt jagged and uneven.

She brought a veiny hand to graze the fabric of her grey colored sweats, just above her clothed cunt, and she felt so fucking relieved.

And it still wouldn’t stop fucking pulsing.

she stared at the bikini, and rubbed her finger up and down slowly, cupped her cunt forcefully, slapped it and whimpered.

“Goddamn” she huffed.

She began tracing big, deliberate circles, her touch slow and steady, causing the fabric of her boxers to cling to her wet cunt.

She had to take them off.

Swiftly, she inserted her thumbs into the edges of her boxers, right at the level of her hipbones, and pulled them down in one fluid motion. The fabric gathered messily around her ankles. She felt so fucking nasty.

Ellie spread her legs, and gasped as the cool air hit her most sensitive place. She waited for a minute, mouth agape, teasing her cunt before she touched it. She swore she could cum with just squeezing in and out while staring at your face.

However, she could not tease herself anymore when those thoughts began forming clearer and clearer.

She brought a long finger and caressed her slit slowly from her hole to her puffy little clit. "Oh fuck yes" she hissed.

It started with thinking about your tits. Her mind wandered, and her hole leaked into the leather chair, forming a small droplet to lay down on it. She breathed heavily.

The thought of you, taking off that bikini top in front of her went through her mind. Slow, deliberate process of undoing its strings, so so agonizingly slow. When they spilled out, ellie let out a high pitched moan.

“Touch them, Ellie” you whispered in her ear.

“Please touch me…” you whined.

She gasped, took two fingers, her middle and her ring, and formed tiny, slow circles on her wet clit. Ellie spread her legs wide, and placed them on the table.

It looked absolutely obscene.

In reality, Ellie was touching herself to a picture on a slightly dusty old screen. In her imagination, you stood pretty begging her for more. Your fucking whines did it for her, and she didn’t even know what they sounded like for real.

You circled your nipples, pinched them and spat a glob of saliva, letting it streamline down your tits, teasing ellie so bad she was already panting. They glistened, and ellie latched on to them, sucking and spitting and whimpering groaning.

“So good Ellie...” you moaned, holding the back of her hand and pushing her deeper.

“I want you so fucking bad”

“Holy fucking shit” she hissed, and slapped her clit. one slap! two slaps! she was desperate.

“Fuuuck yes” she whimpered, and plunged a finger inside her aching hole. It sucked her completely in, clenching around her fingers. She gasped, and slid off the chair.

She was staring at your fucking cunt with her eyes half shut. she swore she could see those fucking lips.

Now, Ellie’s mind took a turn. You laid pretty on her bed, chest heaving up and down, legs spread completely open with a pink vibrator buzzing on your clit.

“Ellie!” you moaned.

“Fuck me... please please please"

She plunged a second finger, and bucked her hips inwards and backwards. She whimpered, and a shaky breath followed by the sound of your name escaped her quivering lips.

“Need you in my pussy… p—pretty please”

She swore she could hear you say it.

Ellie pounced on her bed and savored you whole. she bit your clit, sucked on it and got her entire face wet with your juices.

“God yes” she groaned, wet, squelching sounds filling the room. She pumped them in and out, and in and out again, whilst the other hand was circling itself fast on her needy, pulsating clit. Every few seconds, she’d slap it again, open wider and wider, bucking and riding them so hard she could almost see a supernova right in front of her.

The dull ache in her pussy grew bigger and bigger.

“You need me? fucking whore” she whispered under her breath.

Thin, shiny, sticky drool flowed from the corner of her mouth, it landed on the top of her hoodie.

“Yes Ellie… please Ellie need you in my pussy” She pumped them profusely, feeling your walls take her in like she needed to. When she pumped them inside of herself— That’s what she liked to imagine. It was you, who took her in. They were your walls, your wet cunt begging and screaming for more.

She felt it coming in the pits of her stomach. It grew bigger and bigger, like a wave, or a volcano, threatening to erupt and make her cream all over her chair.

“Ellie yesyesyesyes!” you moaned.

She circled faster and faster, her perky tits bouncing up and down with every movement of her hips. The chair squeaked, but she couldn't be bother to take it slow.

“Ellie?” your voice echoed through the corridor.

“Yeah baby s— say my fucking name, fuck” she hissed, her eyes completely shut.

“Ellie?”

God, it felt so fucking real. Almost there. She bit her lip, and it drew blood.

The door collided with the wall, hitting it with a loud thud.

“Ellie?”

“N— fuNgh”

She almost screamed so loud the gods could hear. she shut her laptop off before even pulling her fingers out.

She was going to fucking faint.

Her face flushed a deep shade of crimson, intense embarrassment radiating from her form, hands trembling uncontrollably, and the expression on her face was one of sheer horror— wide eyed.

She got caught.

"What..." you uttered, your voice trailing off as you stood frozen in place, your mouth agape. Your knees threatened to give way beneath you.

You shut the door.

Ellie, her chest heaving, struggled to catch her breath.

“Oh my—“

“God”

#𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 anon 🎀 #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #the last of us #ellie tlou2 #wlw #ellie williams x female reader

[crypticminx]

PLEASE WRITE A FIC WHERE NATE SCARES READER BY SCREAMING AT HER AND THEN MAKES UP FOR IT BY CUDDLING HER AND WATCHING A MOVIE

LOL YESSS THIS LOWKEY CUTE ASF TY BOOOO <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You couldn’t remember how it happened, but as the long evening after a tiresome day at school lead to you and your boyfriend studying for an upcoming exam, you managed to pass out on his welcoming sofa.

All the copious amounts of knowledge you tried to scramble into your brain, hoping you’d remember it come Monday morning, left you feeling a haze of exhaustion. Thus, resulting in some well deserved shuteye after another week of school.

Like something out of a horror movie, your peaceful sleep was interrupted by the most blood curdling scream that made you jolt up from the sofa, leaving your hair sticking up in unusual places and your eyes wide and alert.

“Y/N,” echoed all across the empty home, sprouting from your boyfriends deep voice. He looked as thrilled as ever to see his lovely girlfriend finally awake, while on the other hand, you looked absolutely mortified with fear.

“What the fuck, Nate??” You yelled back, only a little lower than his scream that startled you. “What was that for?”

You groaned as you heavily sighed with exhaustion, clear that you wanted to rest until nightfall, but Nate seemed rather annoyed to be missing out on spending alone time with you. Rubbing your eyes as they squinted from the bright lights in the living room, you shifted your body back into the sofas warm cushion, crossing your arms to signal that you were not happy.

“Oh, come on,” Nate tried to reason with you, taking a seat beside you as he moved extra close to allow his hand to stroke your bare thigh. You weren’t having it, however, wiggling yourself away from him as he could see the adorable pout forming on your face.

“Babe,” you turned to face him, seeing that irresistible smile that made you blush with rosy cheeks, “you were out for like two hours, you know I hate missing out on any time we can have together.”

You shook your head, hating the fact that he was right. He always had to be the reasonable one it seemed, whether you liked it or not.

“Okay,” you rolled your eyes, hearing a short chuckle from his end, “but you didn’t have to scream at me like a crazy person, you know?”

“I know,” he grinned at you, letting you know he enjoyed waking you up with such a panic. Eventually you’d get back at him, but for now you’d let it slide.

“C’mere,” he opened his arm, letting you glide into his embrace as you laid your body onto his chest, feeling the slow pulse of his heart.

“You gonna make it up to me?”

He pulled you in tighter, letting your head rest just beneath his chin as he lightly kissed the top of your head, inhaling the sweet scent of your hair. Strawberries, he beamed, that was what your silky locks always smelt like and it brought him comfort. His sweet kiss made you feel butterflies in your stomach, such a simple act of adoration always leaving you jittery with love.

“How about we watch a movie, I get to cuddle you for the rest of the night and maybe just maybe-“

You cut him off. You couldn’t see the smug look he had on his face, but you could sense it was there by the eagerness of his tone.

“Maybe what?” You asked him, biting your lip from letting yourself break out in laughter once his hand trailed underneath your loose shirt and onto your chest. The palms of his hands made you feel ticklish, but you kept your calm composure whilst under his touch.

“Maybe I can properly make it up to you in bed?”

“Deal.”

He just didn’t know that it would be you refraining him from getting any sleep for the rest of the night, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#nate jacobs #nate jacobs x reader #euphoria #nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs x you #jacob elordi x y/n #jacob elordi fanfic #jacob elordi #felix catton #saltburn #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x reader

[shxyo-sho]

when you fall asleep on their shoulder ♡

pairings: itadori, nanami, junpei, nobara x gn!reader

warnings: none!

genre: fluff

a/n: this is literally like a year late i’m saurrrr sorry 😭🙏🏼 but i finally found the motivation to finish this stupidly cute request and i hope you love it and that it was worth the wait :)) thank you for requesting and for getting me over my writers block, enjoyyy @neinpls <3 (ps ur so nice i’m in luv w u)

|| jjk m.list ||

Itadori Yuji

-> The wave of tiredness that hits after missions was no joke, especially considering how late it was. Itadori sat directly beside you on the ride back to school after a successful exorcism. It was dark and quiet, only the sounds of raindrops hitting the metal of the car could be heard. They sounded like a song almost, lulling you to sleep. Itadori’s too busy fighting his own exhaustion to notice yours, at least until he feels a soft weight on his shoulder. You were out cold and he couldn’t help but smile. Gently, he lifts your head and places it on his lap instead, wanting to save you from any later neck pain. You’re cute like this, he thinks. With your mouth hanging open, clothes slightly ruffled but you’re completely and utterly relaxed. He brings one hand up to sift through your hair, soft yet very messy, while the other interlocks with your fingers. Lingering thoughts of love fill his mind before he himself falls asleep. He hopes you’re dreaming of him, the same way he is of you.

Nanami Kento

-> Nanami quietly reads the last line of the chapter from his book, softly closing it and setting it on the nightstand beside him. Upon looking down, he is met with your sleeping face, lips slightly parted and chest rising and falling with every breath taken. You regain consciousness for a moment, telling your husband, through slurred words, to continue reading the book. He can only chuckle and watch as you fall back into a deep slumber, head resting on his chest. A whispered declaration of his love slips past his lips and it feels like second nature to him. He leaves a delicate kiss to your temple, then another and another. Wrapping you in his arms, Nanami hopes to feel this tranquility forever.

Junpei Yoshino

-> Junpei leans forward in his seat, eyes not once leaving the screen. It’s movie night for the both of you and an old horror movie plays on his living room tv. He slightly jumps when he feels a sudden weight on his shoulder, pausing the movie to glance at you. A dorky smile adorned his face as he watched you fight the urge to fall asleep. Your eyes barely opening only to fall shut again. “Babe the movie just started and you’re already falling asleep,” he say’s partially laughing at you. Your eyes snap open, for only a moment, as you urge your boyfriend to press play again, promising to watch from now on. He obliges but watches as you fall back into sleep, keeping your promise for all of 3 seconds. He moves to lay down and pulls your body on top of his, getting lost in the warmth of your embrace.

Nobara Kugisaki

-> Nobara softly sets the bags of newly bought clothes down, right beside her legs. The train is packed with passengers and she can’t help but glare. There were so many people, so many loud and sweaty people. Too busy frowning at everyone in eyesight, she fails to notice your dazed state. Only when she feels your head fall onto her shoulder does she look over to you. “I guess all that shopping tired you out huh” she mumbles, beginning to maneuver your head onto her lap. She smiles down at you, soaking in the peaceful moment. She always believed that gentleness was not one of her strong suits but as she held your face, tender eyes scanning each and every detail, she may have proven herself wrong.

shxyo-sho © 2023 | all content and its rights belong to me. please do not modify or repost on any other websites.

#{♡} mindless scribbling #pls don’t hate me i luv u </3 #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x gn!reader #jjk x reader #jjk x gn!reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #itadori yuji x reader #itadori x reader #junpei yoshino x reader #junpei x reader #nobara kugisaki x reader #nobara x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #nanami fluff #itadori fluff #junpei fluff #nobara fluff #fluff #gn!reader

[tteokdoroki]

OCTOBER 29TH. THE WINTER SOLDIER

“who the hell is bucky?”

♱ — eijirou kirishima + non-con/dub-con.

♱ — synopsis; he’s not a bad man, he promises you that. it doesn’t matter how many people he’s killed with his bare and metal hands…kirishima will make sure you know how sorry he is by the time he’s done with you.

♱ —length; 5.2K

♱ — warnings; please read for your own safety! mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, dark content, mentions of murder, assasinations, stalking, non-con to. dub-con, drugging, phallophilia, begging, manipulation, virginity loss, cherry chasing, power dynamics, breath play, temperature play, fingering ( fem!receiving ), strength!kink, softt fem!reader, yandere!kirishima, winter soldier!kirishima. not beta read !

♱ — notes; happy saturday angels!! we’re so close to the end of kinktober waaah!! i kinda like this one, it’s a bit dark so please be careful when reading !! check the warnings as well… tbh ive had kiri brain rot all this week, so this makes sense !! as usual, hope you enjoy <3 - m.list ₊ kinktober m.list ₊ taglist 𓆩♡𓆪

people make mistakes every single day— they can be simple and mundane, like tiny little white lies when you forget something important to someone though it might hurt their feelings. the burn of embarrassment whenever you’d messed up in front of an entire class. 

mistakes were common. everybody made them, eijirou kirishima made them— they were out of his control.

the winter soldier was a man lost in his own mind, watching his life go by behind vermillion eyes— taking others with hands that no longer loved or felt like his own. to them, hydra, his creators…kirishima was the ideal weapon, a blank canvas to turn into something sinister and evil. a good natured, strong man carved into the perfect shape to be a killer. behind his own soft, once expressive ruby eyes; eijirou was forced to watch the life drain from the corpses of others— people who had families waiting for them back home with home cooked meals they’d taken for granted, people with children they’d wished they’d raised right or friends that hadn’t quite forgiven them.

kirishima had heard it all, the pleas for him to let them live and do better right before they died by his hands in the most brutal way. each time he ended a life, a piece of his soul went with them, years internal torture following him like a dark fog— weighing down on him like heavy rainfall, soaking him to the bone with red. it’s caked against his skin, ingrained deep under his nails no matter how much he scrubs at them with a bar of soap and water.

death follows kirishima everywhere, aches in his bones and the creaking silver metal of the winter soldier’s arm. it was a curse, a burden that he couldn’t bare to carry on his shoulders— the serum in his veins like a poison that had stolen his memories, the happy soldier boy he used to be. 

he hates the way people look at him now, breaking free from hydra— the sympathy shining in their eyes, he hates the way you look at him too. part of kirishima’s recovery, as suggested by his therapist, was to make amends with every person impacted by his crimes as the winter soldier, and you, the sweet girl next door were next. 

kirishima killed your father years ago, before you could probably spell your own name without sounding it out— he had been a kind diplomat wanting nothing but peace. after his release from cyro, eijirou had tracked you down, only to discover he’d taken your mother’s life too, in a tampered car crash. you’d been alone ever since. 

the winter soldier had taken a happy childhood from you, made you the cute little recluse next door who hid in her stuffy parchment scented apartment— with books stacked high, romance your favourite genre, what you found your fantasies in. kirishima couldn’t deny the way his heart fluttered, but guilt edged itself over the expanse of his brain whenever you pitied him in the coridoors between your tiny rented apartments ( though from his recent hero work and inheritance from captain america, he could probably afford to buy tha building out ). your shiny doe eyes would pity him, see the pain in the winter soldier’s own as well as that breaking in the vibranium laced in the arm that wasn’t really his.

in his one hundred plus years of living, kirishima had probably been on more dates than you had knowledge on boys and the reality of romance in general. 

you’d been made that way because of eijirou.

because of the winter solider. 

and he would make it up to you, he would. it was a promise and the least he could do.

years of training had made it easy for kirishima to slip into your apartment that night— silly you, poor little you for having left your window wide open, letting the bulky ex assassin slip through as if he was a silent Siamese cat being welcomed home. footsteps carrying no sound effortlessly slipped into your bedroom just for a peek at you. 

kirishima could have watched you forever, drawn to the way your lips twitch as you sleep and your eyes screw shut even tighter as if you’re being drowned in your own worst nightmare. you’re adorable.

you have no idea what’s about to come next.

it makes the winter soldier’s cock twitch beneath his clothing, leaking fat globs of precum against his inner thighs. he aches to be inside of you, feel you blossom around him like a flower in the spring for the first time— ‘cause god you’re so innocent and inviting.

there’s an instinctual chill down your spine, one that breaks you from your heavy slumber and has your shooting up— doe eyes wide like a deer in headlights while you search for the figure that had been looming over you in the dark.  “e-eiji?” your whisper sits hoarse in your throat, voice laced with cute little wisps of sleep, the nickname you’d given him shooting straight to his erection. “what are you doing here?”

“oh nothin’,” eijirou lies, “just the neighbourly thing and asking for a cup of sugar?” the smile that he gives you is quick, not quite reaching his eyes that usually hold such kindness… there’s something off about kirishima tonight, something that makes you feel sick to your stomach and makes you want to run.

you can’t scramble from the sheets fast enough, for the winter soldier has been trained to move faster— bulky arms swinging around your waist before your feet even hit the floor, throwing you back into feathery pillows of your bed despite your kicks and screams. it’s frightful how kirishima can just manhandle you any way that he wishes, using the bulk of his body to get you onto your stomach like it’s nothing, like the winter soldier would and not your soft, mellow companion who laughs with his gut and grins with the ruby in his eyes. the one who pulled you out of your house for walks to the library late at night.

this version of the man who lives next door, who told you he was recovering from war wounds long before your time, growls deeply as he grabs you by the back of you throat and tugs your head to rest on his shoulder— breathing deep from where you’ve put up a fight, hissing from where your trimmed nails scratch at his one good and fleshy arm. “don’t fight it, please,” he comments, nosing under your earlobe, breathing in the scent of vanilla and money milk from your body wash. “i just want to make it up to you, for what i did to your parents. for taking your childhood away from you.” 

hairs on your neck stand on end, you don’t know if it’s from the mention of your dead relatives or from the way kirishima’s belt clinks as if he’s been undoing it— his metal hand, the perfect killing weapon, folds coolly against your neck and with one wrong move it could crush your windpipe in a second. “e-eijirou what are you—?” you stutter, voice spiking with fear, lodged in the dry ridges of your throat. “m-my parents—“ eyes widening, the realisation hits, you know exactly what he means. 

you know that it’s him who murdered them.

“baby,” the winter soldier coos as you thrash dangerously in his grip, a second away from having your neck snapped. lunging forward, your hot and teary face is stuffed into the pillows to the point where you almost can't breathe, kirishima straddling your hips while simultaneously pushing more of his clothes away. “‘m sorry… s-sorry for what i did to you.” for what he’s doing to you— pushing your flimsy nightshirt up your back, over the curve of your fleshy ass. 

a pleaful whimper lays on your sweet lips, tears welling in your eyes as you practically scream for the ‘hero’ to get off of you— let you go. you’re devastated, trust betrayed by a friend you thought you’d made, a friend now using your body for his own selfish gain. the red head squeezes at the flesh now exposed to his heated hungry stare, running his metal arm over your curves, precious thighs and cute ass—revelling in the way your entire body reacts just for him, goosebumps rising across your back like chicken skin. 

“you’ll forgive me, right?” he goes on, words broken up by shuddered breaths as eijirou’s metal fingers slip between your thighs from behind— spreading apart pretty pussy lips that glimmer with slick, evidence to you of your body’s betrayal , but to him of anticipation, excitement. forgiveness. “just wanna make it up to you,” he murmurs almost empathetically, voice thick with lust— it feels like the war hero is making fun of you, pinning you down against your will between muscular thighs. “i’ll make it feel so good, baby. promise. i’ll make it worth your while, make you forgive me.” 

tears are hot on your cheeks, burning down the apples of them in salty tracks— you don’t want this, you don’t want him, the man who supposedly gave his life to save Captain America, to take something so precious to you. your virginity— not after finding out he killed your parents in cold blood. you feel almost sick for having found kirishima attractive before, for dreaming of situations a little similar to now, where you’d cry out his name as he made love to you and made you feel seen. eijirou mistakes the wince of your body as he circles a cold digit around your tiny entrance for a twitch of pleasure, grinning to himself as he adds a thumb to your clit to draw slow, salacious circles around the swelling nub— the coldness sending shockwaves up your spine.

it feels nice, good— but that doesn’t make you resist it any less, make you want him anymore. small whispers of ‘p-please eiji—‘ hiccuped into the sheets soaked with both your arousal and tears. a fresh wave of unexpected slick gushes from your virgin cunt when kirishima slaps his bare cock against the length of your slit, as if he’s going to take you with little to no preparation. he’s big, throbbing and soaked with his own milky arousal, his veins fitting snug between your pussy lips, fat and blue while his tip blares an angry shade of red. 

if this were any other time, you’d be happy to have your mouth water— filling with thick drool at the thought of having the winter soldier’s massive girth split you open and be your first. yet, as eijirou grinds his meaty cock into your filthy, embarrassingly soaked virgin mound, you remember that he’s not so nice. trapping you between strong thighs, a metal arm and a frightening snarl. 

“eijirou please—“ you try again, wiggling your hips to get away from him as he ruts his achy tip through your sweet lips, bumping your clit, until he reaches right between your ass cheeks. “p-please don’t do this. i’ll…i’ll do anything you want! i’ll forgive you!” 

“jus’ let me do this,” the winter soldier slurs over the spit pooling on his tongue, dazed by the way the clear strings of your juices cling to every vein of his cock— make it shine even in the dark. kirishima feels feverish, the scent of your innocent cunt driving him insane, on the brink of forgetting his mission— making it up to you. sweat drips from his hairline, even though he’s barely started, hitting the small of your back. “it’ll be okay, she’s… your pussy… she’s dripping for me.” he says like he’s in disbelief, grabbing hold of his dick and nuzzling it against your swollen pleasure nub to hear you whine like a pretty bird song. “she wants this, you want this. i’ll do what’s right, make it up to you.” 

tiny fingers grip the blankets below as kirishima makes a move to push his precum loaded cockhead past your tight little entrance, moaning breathily while hunched over you. you’re sure you’ve bitten your lip to the point of bleeding, red and raw at the slightly painful intrusion of the winter soldier’s dick past your virgin entrance. “‘shima,” you shake your head, watery eyes stinging. “it hurts,” you add weakly.

pulling back with a deep groan, eijirou runs his human hand through his sweaty mane. the last thing he wants to do is hurt you more— add to the heartache of losing your parents. “fuck baby...didn’t mean to hurt ya, we’ll try something else okay?” it’s almost sick how kind he sounds, even if there’s a wobble to what he says. there’s a shift behind you, and you almost miss the heat of his cock against you, only for it to be replaced with the frozen temperatures of his vibranium fingers prodding against your spasming hole.

against your own will, your thighs twitch apart instinctively— making room for kirishima between them as he circles the rim of your entrance, living up his fingers with the salacious pool of your arousal before pushing against the resistance of your unclaimed walls. “stay still baby, s’gonna sting for a bit,” he comments, choking on a depraved, corrupt gasp at how warm you are inside. the redhead stuffs you full of two fingers, sliding them into you with the aid of your honeyed cunt, and immediately scissors them, curling them to map and get a feel of your velvet walls.

you’re untouched territory, an empty playground of innocence and purity and now…kirishima’s for the taking. he’ll teach you things, he thinks while stretching open your hot little cunt to prepare you for his cock. he’ll teach you real pleasure, real love, all the things you missed out on after he ruined your life.

“eiji—!“ your cry is needy, amorous as you claw at your pink pillow cases, hips jutting back clumsily at the first shocks of ecstasy to flitter into your blood stream. you’ve never felt like this before. 

“how’s this, baby? better than before?” the winter soldier drawls, practically as needy as you with a pout on his lips, red brows furrowed in concentration for making amends with you and your pretty pussy. his gaze of blood rubies falls to how your creamy sex sucks in his two metal digits, pressing coldly against new spots inside of you, curled against spongey walls until you’re cross eyed and the room spins.

“s’oh my god,” comes your muffled, sweet grouse— the adorable sound tearing in your throat. “s’better… oh, eiji!” 

he needs you to understand that this is all for you, every calculated drag of his thumb over your sticky swelling clit, every stroke of his vibranium fingers rapaciously pumping in and out of succulent unused mound is meant to bring you to the high heavens and help you forgive him. kirishima’s chest swells with pride knowing he’s the first to have you like this, seeing you clamp down on him as he pleasures you, thumb glued to your little nub, writing apologies into it. “i need you to know, baby,” he says in awe of how you take him, even if you squirm and pretend to resist. “that ‘m so sorry, that i’ll do my best t’take care of you like this…” 

a weird feeling in your lower belly starts to build up, in slow stacks like building a house from the beginning— all of the new sensations that come with it having distracted you from the reality of the situation. you can’t trust the winter soldier anymore, not to protect you and not to look out for you— especially when he’s ravaging your puffy pussy while pinning you in place. you hate that it feels good, making your brain tingle and happy hormones crash across it in heavy waves but you can’t help it. your hips buck back onto eijirou’s fast paced fingers which move along your slippery walls at an impressive speed, collecting your juices in the seat of his silver palm.

somewhere, a voice in the back of your head tells you to scream and cry and kick eijirou off— but all you can do is whimper and whine for more as he whispers sinisterly sweet nothings into the shell of your ear. ‘is this enough, baby?’ he’d sigh. ‘can you take more?’ or ‘i hope this makes it up to you’, each candied word sending sparks of ecstasy down your spine and flutters through your darling cunt while eijirou moulds you to take his cock. 

“need ya to cum for me sweetheart, you’ve taken me so well,” he chuckles from behind you, gentle as his fingertips brush against your g-spot. the praises are warm, familiar to the real eijirou kirishima you know lives next door. before you knew the harm he’d done to your family. “can you do that for me, please? then i can fill you up so good, make you truly forgive me. please baby— i fuckin’ need it.” there’s an air desperation about the big burly man finger fucking you to his hearts content, and you think that if you let him keep talking— if you give him this, he might leave you alone.

“i think—‘shima, it feels weird…t-think ‘m gonna c-cum?” you squeak, unsure despite the impending feeling of the rope twisting in your lower tummy that burns as thick metal digits curl against your gummy insides, doused in your syrupy juices. kirishima doesn’t let up, breathing ragged from behind you as he jackhammers his fingers deep inside of you until his palm smacks against your bubbly ass with every stroke. 

he seems pleased as your thighs begin to shake violently, the grip your angel cunt has on him tightening while his shameless stare shoots down to where your limbs meet and you ooze onto him. “let it go baby, you’re gonna feel so good, lemme see, i wanna see you cum,” eijirou damn near begs in a delighted and devoir sigh. a scream rips through your body, dwarfed beneath the size of the super solider as the winding cord in your tummy finally breaks its tension— the pressure that had been building inside of you coming crashing down and your orgasm tearing through you, spilling in clear liquid from your sticky and squelching sex. your teary and dazzling doe eyes screw shut, rolling back into your skull while you release, tainting your folds with a sugar glaze shine— the sweetest treat in the world to kirishima being making you feel good.

he doesn’t relent on your poor pussy as you shake throughout your very first high, stealing the precious moment from you and any future partner who might really love you— who’s not obsessed with the idea of your forgiveness. eijirou thumbs fast and cruel shaped into your raw clit, overstimulating you until the stream of your release stops seeping through the bedsheets. “good girl, such a good girl,” he hums, slowly pulling out of you while you spasm through the aftershocks of cumming for the first time. “stay here, kay? ‘m gonna get something before we have you try ‘n take my cock.” 

the weight of the winter soldier eases off of you, letting air fill your lungs and a clear conscious return to you. 

you wait until his footsteps are no longer audible to make your move, shooting up from the bed with no time to think about how sick your favourite hero is— for thinking you’ll forgive the deaths of the people you love most in exchange for him taking away your precious purity. 

but you don’t have time to make a run for it, tackled to the bed once more by the stronger, trained killer. “i thought i told you to stay put,” kirishima snarls at you like you’re meek prey to him, forgetting his manners and his mission. “don’t you listen, baby? this is all for you,” 

“i don’t want you!” comes your bratty little yell ( at least to the winter soldier ), who only throws you back onto the bed in the same position you were before— sitting heavy on your waist with your face shoved into the sheets. “please eijirou, l-let me go! i won’t tell anyone what you did! i’ll keep quiet! i’ll—“ your words fall away as eijirou grabs you by the back of the neck and you feel a sharp pinprick to your side. “w-what was that?” 

a wooziness takes over you, calming your brain like it did when eijirou was making you feel good. “‘m sorry, i didn’t want to have to use it,” he says with what feels like faux sympathy. “but you just wouldn’t listen!” the redhead eases you down onto the bed once more, it’s a little something that’ll make accepting my apology a little easier, baby. so you stop squirming, so it hurts a little less. now be good, yeah?” 

“y-yeah, okay,” you reply, slow blinking as your body begins to accept its fate.

using the remnants of your previous orgasm, kirishima slicks himself up again, running the meat of his shaft along the length of your quivering pussy— sending hormones of lust dancing across your brain. you can’t see him; but kirishima’s cheeks are flushed with unadulterated desire, his gaze swimming each time he taps the head of his cock against your souse pulsating hole. “gonna fuck you so good, gorgeous, don’t you worry.” he says, words a little too rushed and too eager, and without warning, the war hero’s hips jump forward to drive his cock into the deepest parts of your sex, fully lubed up with all your piquant juices. 

eijirou is bigger than you’d dreamed off before all of this, weighty against the stickiness lining your unclaimed, gummy walls. you can feel every brown wrapped pretty around his girth pressing into pleasure spots you’ve not even had a chance to discover for yourself. his breath is shaky and uneven, prickling at your ears despite the static that crackles across your brain— from lust or from the drug you can’t even tell. 

“i wanna move, baby,” the winter soldier gasps, wavering and hips stilling just as he reaches the hilt. this is the least he could do for you, try to be gentle as he completes this last mission— takes your virginity. in all these years of training for hydra, kirishima has never exercised such restrained, barely keeping himself together with every flutter of your sex and ripple of heat from your body  around his cream soaked dick. “so tight, you need to be fucked. you need me, s’gonna be okay baby…just lemme take you.” 

against your better judgement, the voice in the back of your mind screaming at you to fight back— you roll your ass back to meet kirishima’s hips, pushing your searing cunt further onto  his girth as if to coax him to move until eijirou is completely bottomed out and balls deep inside, oozing sweet nectar down his thighs and balls alike. “p-please,” you slur cutely, hating your body for wanting him so bad after everything he’s done to you. “w-wanna forgive you,” 

that’s all the motivation the winter soldier needs to go through with it all, you yelp at the pure strength he possesses in manhandling you into the perfect arch— all of his weight dropping onto you with his caramel and sweaty chest pressing to your back. a pathetic hiccup escapes you when kirishima simultaneously latches onto your neck and pulls his cock from you, using teeth and tongue, lolling the pink muscle over your skin, decorating you with lovebites you won’t be able to hide from nosey onlookers. in one powerful thrust, he’s filling you back up to the brim— all the way up in your guts until you feel him in your tummy, making you feel dwarfed by the super soldier above you. 

with what little energy you have left, still doped up from whatever he spiked you with— you rock your hips back onto eijirou, letting your cute and ravaged cunt suck more of him into your warmth and aiding him in building up a steady pace to his thrusts.

the bed starts to groan and creak beneath the force of the redhead now brutally ploughing into you— precum in fat drops smearing against your ripe and fertile walls that feel like home to his hardened length. your pussy blossoms for the man like a flower in a spring bloom, ready for the taking, ready for kirishima. only he could do this for you, teach you what seeing stars look like, drag you to cloud nine. it was the least he could do for you, and it made his dick twitch knowing that you were starting to accept him— clenching down on his mushroomed tip ever time it pulls out of you with a wet pop.

you stretch painfully over his creamy cock, though you feel like you’re on cloud nine— overwhelmed with a ravenous ecstasy that shoots from your brain to the tips of your toes, right through the heartbeat in your pussy. “feel amazin’ baby, oh that’s right, take me so fucking well,” eijirou whispers into the skin of your shoulder over sentimentally, the heat of his breath clinging to the sex in the air. his large palms drop to the globes of your ass— pulling them wide apart to spit between them and getting an enticing view of his dick lewdly plunging in and out of your perfect virgin hole. “that’s it…you like this don’t you, you like me doing this to you…” 

your mind says no but you can’t help but hump back onto him, still growing used to the burning pleasure as eijirou pushes in and out of you. “y-yes eiji, i-i like it,” he barely leaves your tight heat, with the little proximity between your saltine sweat slicked bodies, prodding at that special spot inside of you that makes you gush sweet nectar. 

you hope it’s the drug talking, every time you coo and cry out for the winter soldier— limp body taking the godspeed pace he moves at, filling you up each and every time. “‘h’baby, you really mean that?” metal fingers crawl up your spine, encapsulating your throat as if he can’t crush it within a second. he tugs your head back with a cool grip into a heated kiss, forcing his tongue over yours, mouths slotting together and sharing moans. “never meant for it to be like this, never gonna—fuck… cause you harm e’ver again, yeah?” kirishima’s voice rises in octave as it does in addiction, the handsome soldier succumbing to the mindbreak your gratifying, ichorous cunt had to offer him while he tucks into you.

“yeah…s’okay. o-oh! eijirou!” comes your brainless babble, your sanity falling into a cock-drunk state. eijirou’s own mind is as foggy as yours, plagued by thoughts of painting you white inside and relieving you of his burden— teaching you pleasure, teaching you sin. the slow roll of your hips back onto his mingle with the harsh slap of skin on skin, wet and crude, and hanging nastily in the air. 

there’s barely any oxygen for you to breathe between it all— kirishima rhythmically squeezing at the bruised column of your throat in tune with surging hips, assaulting your poor g-spot. “jus relax baby, go’ta sleep,” you swear you think you hear him say when you grow even more light headed. “lemme take care of you.”

he had no idea your little meek mewls could drive him this far up the wall, or that he’d want you to himself even after taking your virginity. kirishima sucks on the pulse point under your ear to sedate himself, keeping you locked in place with his metal arm— licking the beads of sweat from the side of your face while his free hand wraps itself in the fabric of your sweat soaked night shirt and uses it to tug you back onto his aching, pulsating dick. 

his sloppy groans echo throughout the lost purity of your bedroom, no longer a safe place— but now a reminder of how your body betrayed you, swaying in a taboo dance with the winter soldier as a crude mix of your arousals swing between both of your sore thighs. “i gotta cum baby, please lemme cum,” eijirou huffs breathily into your ear, grabbing you by the ass while he shifts to his knees and using the pure strength of the super soldier serum and his bionic arm to lift you up and down on his cock, forcing you to match his pace in frantic, hungry movements. “need to cum, need’a make it up to ya, please—oh fuckin’ fuck!”

“e-eiji!” you sob, reaching back to dick crescent moons into his fleisher arm that holds you up— letting the winter soldier fuck into you at his own will. “slow down! please!”

he shakes his head, red locks damp and sticking to his forehead as he tucks his face into the back of your shoulder. “c-can’t, need you close too. ‘m gonna cum,” he tells you, whining profligately— the ex assassin revelling in the way you drip thickly down his balls, heavy with cum, the lewd pap pap pap of your sexes moving together creating a song that echoes in the sex tainted air, matching up perfectly with your erotic choreographed routine against the sheets, tainted with your arousals. “gotta get’cha close, are you there gorgeous? that feeling in your tummy back?” 

you nod, simpering out for more even though your brain is too misted to keep up with what’s happening— lust coursing through your veins with whatever drug the winter soldier has put in your system. but the feeling is barely there, and you writhe against kirishima for more…even if you hate it, even if you’re not so sure you hate it anymore.

sleeping with the man that murdered your parents.

however, you don’t need to ask for more, eijirou’s metal fingers releasing your throat and allowing you to breathe again— sliding over your clothed, pebbled nipples and down the softness of your stomach before they coldly reach your hot cunt. they toy with your swollen clit between your throbbing, puffy folds to guide you over the edge once more. 

two orgasms for the two people you’d lost. 

your second high of the night comes crashing over you in a sudden wave, rendering you even more weak and useless than before— you seize up, trapping kirishima inside your soaked cunt as you gush like a sweet flowing river once more. the red head follows suit, his cock pulsing while his cream lines your raw and abused walls. he doesn’t ever let up, pushing his seed further along your walls until both of you collapse into the bed with exhaustion. your hole burns, cum seeping from your entrance as you swear kirishima feels even bigger when his dick is swollen with his orgasm.

“i’m sorry,” he says hoarsely once you’ve both calmed down— but your mind is running a mile a minute, fuzzy and lagging with a combination of your high and the drugs in your system. “‘m so sorry baby,” 

“it’s okay,” you whisper back, eyes fluttering with sleep again. 

though you’re not sure what you’re forgiving the winter soldier for this time.

taking your parents, or taking your innocence.

#𓆩♱𓆪. 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑'𝟐𝟐 #kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #kirishima thirst #kirishima x you #kirishima fanfic #kirishima imagine #eijirou kirishima smut #eijirou kirishima x you #kirishima eijirou smut #kirishima eijirou x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #mha x reader #tteokdoroki #bnha x reader #eijiro kirishima smut #bnha thirst #mha thrist #kirishima scenarios #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #tw: drugging #tw: yandere #tw: flashing

[websterss]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 — 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Y/n finds it difficult already living in one of the most hated towns, but imagine her shock when Shadyside’s very own Sunset Curve's frontman and high school band percussionist takes a liking to her.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): some fluff

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1,743

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Alive!Luke Patterson x fem!Reader, Deena Johnson x fem!Reader

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it! ♡

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Shadyside, 1994.

“Hey come check out our gig this Friday, it’s gonna be a night to remember!” Luke, Alex, Reggie, and Bobby handed out T-shirts and their demo to a few classmates. Luke patted the back of some of them for encouragement.

“Sunset Curve, that’s us!” Alex pointed at himself. Then put his head down.

“Tell your friends, okay!” Reggie winked at a few girls who blushed.

“Hey, are you doing anything this Friday?” Bobby left the group and joined a group of girls who giggled at his approach.

“Guys I can’t wait for this week’s gig! I can barely even focus on class.” Luke stopped at his locker to take out an empty notebook and pencil for his next class.

“You don’t even pay attention regardless…” Alex called him out.

“Yeah well…I’m-“ Luke scratched his head trying to come up with something to say.

“-Excited.” Reggie started.

“-and can’t stop reminding everyone about Friday…” Alex gave him a pointed look.

“Okay, okay. I get it, I’ll shut up.” Luke laughed, hitting them playfully. “But come on guys, this gig could be our big break for us. Imagine all the record execs and the labels that’ll want to sign us. This could be huge!”

“Well, until then we have a math test to get to.” Alex reminded them.

“Shit that was today?” Luke began panicking. “No, no, no.”

“We have a test? I thought that wasn't until next week” Reggie’s eyes grew wide.

"Today is next week." Alex shook his head, as he took his notebook out of his bag.

“I’m screwed.” Luke's arms flopped to his sides. “My mom already got onto me for skipping classes, if I get another bad grade…” He sighed. “This is the start of a bad day boys.” He grew annoyed but then did a complete 180 when he saw you. “Did I say bad day? I meant my day just got a whole lot better now that I’ve been blessed by the sight that is Y/n Y/L/N!” Luke bit his lip as he called after you. You walked by him and the guys in the hallway. “Hey Y/n, has anyone told you today you look beautiful?” Luke leaned against his locker and nudged his chin up at you. You were on the other side of the hallway opening your locker. You rolled your eyes and turned around.

“Fuck you, Luke!” You scoffed at his attempts to get at you again.

“Well if you’re offering, then by all means lead the way-“ He walked over to you and leaned against the locker next to yours.

“Keep dreaming…” You laughed and shoved him away.

“I will.” He smiled at you and stared at you with a glint in his eyes.

It was like a staring contest, trying to see who’d break first to have the upper hand. That’s how it’s always been between you two. A contest to see who could resist the other person’s charms and flirtatious attempts. You bit your lower lip and rolled your eyes. Luke did a little victory dance in his head. He truly felt lucky that he could hold your attention. Work you up to make you smile just a little bit longer at him. Crack a stupid joke to hear your affectionous laugh. Tell you how truly beautiful you looked just to watch that little glint in your eyes appear. It made his stomach swirl of butterflies….butterflies were cool. 

Not that he’d ever tell anyone that.

He let you switch out your textbooks in peace before opening his mouth to tell you about Friday.

“Hey, so I was wondering-“ He scratched the back of his head.

“Move!”

You looked up right as Deena came through and shoved the brunette out of the way. Luke looked stunned. The push had him stumble backward a bit. Gravity defied him, so he fell on his ass in front of everyone in the hallway. He got up trying to play it cool. Yet you could see a snip of his pride melt away. You bit back a laugh as your eyes flicker between Deena switching out a notebook from her locker next to yours and Luke scowling at her.

“Hey, Deena.” You smiled at her.

She stopped what she was doing and gave you her attention. 

“Hey.” She stuttered. Luke had been forgotten about for a second. “Ready for the test today?”

“I can’t decide if I want to hurl or faint. Mr. Delancey always adds a bonus question to throw us off, and I don’t know if I can remember the circumference of a circle.” You joked.

“I’m sure you’re gonna do great…did my notes help?” Deena bit her lip.

“They did actually-“ You swung your bag around to the front of you and pulled out her notebook.

“Thanks again for letting me borrow them.”

“It was no problem…anything to help.” You met her eyes as she slowly took the notebook back.

Once Luke was at your side again you turned to face him and slapped the side of his shoulder playfully. “You okay there?” Luke could hear the pitch in your tone switch. You were picking on him.

“What? That? It was nothing…” He shrugged it off. “Deena and I joke around like that all the time.” He laughed, then proceeded to hit her shoulder with his own. “Right, Deena?” Deena fell into the lockers with a slight thud. You winced. She looked about ready to kill him. You laughed nervously. Luke and Deena stared each other down. You wanted the tension between them to dissolve so you opted to drop your notebooks on the ground. The two turned away from each other and peered to the floor then you pretended to have clumsily dropped your stuff. Luke immediately bent down to retrieve your notebook while Deena collected the few pens that rolled away.

The two stood to their feet handing you your belongings. 

“T-Thanks.” Your hands brushed against Deenas first. Then you turned towards Luke, his fingertips purposely curling under your palm, letting his touch linger. “T-Thanks.” God, you swore your heart was pounding in your ears. How did anyone handle a crush let alone two? 

You could almost hear a pin drop before they broke the silence.

“You coming to the concert this Friday-”

“You going to the game on Friday-”

Oh boi.

You straightened up as the two turned their heads at each other confused.

“Yeah!” You blurted out without a second thought.

“Yeah, you’ll be at the concert?” Luke pointed at himself.

“-Or yeah you’ll be at the football game?” Deena pointed to herself.

You froze, your eyes growing. You swallowed down your anxiety slowly building up. You were about to open your mouth but got saved by the bell.

“Thank god…” You sighed in relief only to realize they heard you say it out loud. You opened your eyes to see them waiting for your answer. “I-uh. Math!” You pointed past them and sped off like your life depended on it. “Oh my god what is wrong with you?” You muttered under your breath to yourself.

Luke watched you walk away with furrowed brows before turning over to Deena who was closing her locker shut.

“Since when did you fancy, Y/L/N?” He eyed her up and down crossing his arms over his chest.

“Since she kissed me underneath the bleachers behind the football field.” She smirked watching his ego dying.

“No way. Seriously?”

“No! Don’t you have a math test to fail?” She shoved past him, walking off to the class you all shared for the third period.

“Deena wait.” He held her arm, making her halt.

“What?” She sighed, waiting for him to continue.

He saw right through the wall she was putting up. He knew about her first girlfriend Sam, though things didn’t seem to work out. Yet he guessed Deena moved on considering she had been trying to gain your attention for weeks now, just as he was trying his hardest. She looked back down towards the door you entered.

“Holy shit! You’re serious. You like her.”

“No, I just wanna use her for notes. No shit, Sherlock. She’s amazing, can you blame a girl?” Deena shrugged.

“That’s gonna be a problem for me?”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah…cause I like her too.”

She found him trying to be intimidating, amusing. “Do you want a gold star or something?” She crossed her arms.

“No, but I want to ask her out.”

“So do I.”

“Rock, paper, scissors?” He suggested.

“How about…” She paused and reached into her flannel. She brought her hand out and directed her middle finger at him. The huge smile on her face made Luke roll his eyes. “How about this though, we just play it daily until Friday to see who she’s interested in. She’ll either show up to the concert or the game and then we’ll see who she likes. No bitching, no complaining.”

“Okay, okay, I can work with that.” He nodded, even though he wasn’t sure about it.

“You sure?”

“Yeah…for sure.” He nodded.

“Okay, burnout. See ya in math.” She smirked at him. She shoved a slip of paper into his chest and walked off to class. Luke brought his hand up to his chest to catch the slip of paper. He turned it over and chuckled. He looked up in time to see Deena at the other end of the hall. It was a cheat sheet. “Thanks!” She only responded by throwing a thumbs up in the air. He heard the final warning bell go off, as he picked up his book bag. He hurried up and entered the class as Mr. Delancey was just about to shut the door. He gave the man a small smile before taking his usual spot behind you towards the back. He smiled as he watched you go over your notes. Your foot tapped lightly against the ground. He knew how stressed you got when it came to the test. He almost felt bad for pulling you out of your thoughts, but he gently tapped his finger against your left shoulder. Without even turning around, you automatically rested a pencil on your shoulder for him to grab. He bit his lip to prevent a smile from breaking out.

“Thank you, beautiful.” He whispered. You hummed in response, then got back to going over your notes before Mr. Delancey told everyone to put their things away.

#luke patterson imagine #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x fem!reader #luke patterson x reader #alive!luke patterson #jatp imagines #jatp x reader #deena johnson #deena johnson x reader #luke patterson #writings by juls #my gif

[wholoveseggs]

Heyy gorgeous! I’m here once again lol. I was thinking about enemies to lovers this time. Elijah and reader despise each other. She’s always getting on his nerves and he’s always making her embarrassed etc etc. She’s also misbehaving - like interrupting him mid sentence, being sassy and he’s just trying to hold it together. One day they get into a fight or they have to train together (like he did with Gia in s.2) and there’s just too much sexual tension between them. Some angry sex and so on…? Thank youuu🥰

Misbehavior

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Elijah Mikaelson is controlling, arrogant and absolutely infuriating, you don't know how anybody can stand him. That is... until he gets you in his bed.

♡♡ Thanks for the request lovely @msveronicag ! I love this idea so much and I got a little carried away with it ♡♡

8.2k words - Warnings: smut, dom!elijah, blowjobs, choking, spanking, rough sex, tinsy bit of ass play, Elijah being a smug little control freak...

You were back in New Orleans, visiting your old friend Marcel. He turned you nearly fifty years ago and he had always been a mentor figure for you. You left the city to go travel the world and discovered everything it had to offer. But you always remembered your roots, and Marcel was still the man you looked up to the most. So, when he called, asking if you wanted to come help him keep the peace and order in the city, you were happy to agree.

You knew the Originals had arrived in town and you were interested in meeting them. They were an endlessly fascinating bunch of lunatics from what you heard, and you couldn't wait to meet them.

But when you finally got the chance, you were surprised by a few things, number one, they were all ridiculously hot.

And number two, you instantly hated Elijah Mikaelson.

He was just so arrogant and stuck up. His constant use of posh words annoyed you to no end, and his perfect hair was just begging to be ruffled.

He just strolled into Marcel's loft one day and started giving orders. Talking to Marcel in a way that immediately pissed you off. You didn't like to hear your friend being talked to like he was beneath anyone, and so you spoke up.

"Excuse me," You drawled lazily, looking up from where you were perched on Marcel's couch. "Just because you're some original pain in the ass doesn't mean you get to control everything."

Elijah was clearly used to being obeyed. He slowly turned to you, regarding you with that arrogant sneer you came to detest in just a matter of minutes. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes unflinchingly.

"I beg your pardon?" He asked, looking at you as if he could barely see you.

You hated when someone pretended not to hear or understand something. Especially when they understood perfectly well, but were hoping for you to be scared into backing down. Well, that wasn't happening.

"If you didn't understand, I'll repeat it in simple terms that even your elderly ears will comprehend," You snapped at him, standing up to meet his eyes more equally. "Be. Nice."

He gave you a slow, crooked smile that didn't reach his eyes, then he looked back to Marcel with his eyebrows raised. "Are you going to control your little pet?"

You saw red, and opened your mouth to respond, but Marcel gave you a look that screamed 'don't', so you kept quiet, glaring at Elijah.

You couldn't stand the man, the way he would always be wearing a suit, his perfectly styled hair, and those dark, judgmental eyes that seemed to always be on you, looking down at you.

He was just one of those rich assholes who saw a regular person like you as something lesser, and you weren't going to let him walk over you. You'd think after living for one thousand years he would have gained some insight on human behavior, but no, he was just an old, pompous jerk.

You weren't sure what the hell Elijah and his siblings had done to Marcel to make him act the way he did around the Mikaelsons. But he was different around them. More obedient and less himself. You didn't like how the Originals acted like they owned the city.

Regardless, you weren't stupid enough to make enemies out of them. They were valuable allies, so you kept quiet for the most part, and just rolled your eyes and sighed whenever Elijah would open his arrogant mouth.

Marcel needed you to help train some new vampires that had turned recently. You would have them do drills and spar. Things were going well, the new recruits acclimating well to their new state of being.

When you saw Elijah and Marcel enter the room, you immediately felt defensive, you knew that prick was going to say something.

Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at him, his presence putting everyone on edge.

"Keep training," You said, gesturing for them to keep practicing. They were hesitant at first, but did as you instructed.

You walked towards Elijah and Marcel, trying to get the man to leave before he said something wrong and ruined their progress. You stood between the two men and looked up at Elijah with a forced, tight smile.

"Is there something you need? I'm a little busy here." You told him.

He raised his eyebrows at your tone, looking at you as if he was studying you, his eyes moving from the top of your head to your feet, and it felt like he was stripping you naked. He glanced around the room at the others with an amused smirk, and it irked you to no end. He turned his eyes back to you, tilting his head.

"They're not doing very well, are they?" He said, looking down at the trainees.

One of the vampires completely missed their punch and fell over, they were still adjusting to how strong they had become.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. "They're new, they're not perfect yet. And you're not helping, your presence is distracting them." You told him. You weren't about to admit he was right. You weren't going to give him that satisfaction.

“They need a proper example on how to fight,” He smirked and looked at Marcel. "Perhaps a demonstration is in order."

Marcel nodded, then stepped forward. "Come on, I'll show them." He said.

But Elijah shook his head, holding his hand up. "I'm not talking about you."

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "I'm not sparring with you, Elijah. You're too powerful." You told him.

You weren't scared, you knew you could handle yourself. But, he was an original, and you were just a vampire. He would win, easily. And you had no interest in being humiliated by him.

"It's just a friendly match, it doesn't have to be a contest," He said, and you didn't believe him for a second. "Unless you're afraid of getting hurt." He taunted.

You could tell he was enjoying this, he had a small smile on his face, his eyes shining with amusement. He knew you couldn't back down. If you did, he'd call you weak, and a coward. That's just the kind of guy he was.

You rolled your eyes and sighed, getting into a defensive position.

"Ready?" He asked, and you nodded.

Before you could even react, he punched you, and you went flying across the room, landing on your side, and you heard him chuckle. "This is who you got to train your recruits Marcellus?"

You growled and stood, launching yourself at him, and he dodged your hits easily. He grabbed you and twisted your arm, holding it behind your back, and you hissed at the pain. He pulled you closer, and his lips were next to your ear. "Yield."

"Never," You snarled, and he laughed.

"So, prideful, but I can break your arm and force you to yield." He said, twisting your arm more.

"C'mon Elijah, let her go," Marcel said, and Elijah smirked.

"As you wish," Elijah said, releasing your arm, and you turned to face him, glaring. "I thought you were stronger than that, but I was clearly mistaken."

You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much that hurt.

"I think that's enough for today," Marcel said to the vampires, and they all filed out, leaving the three of you alone.

"I don't know why you insist on acting the way you do," Elijah said, shaking his head. "It's quite unbecoming."

You raised your eyebrows. "Oh yeah, and how exactly do I act?" You challenged.

"Childish and impulsive." He answered, and you scoffed. "You need to learn some manners." He added.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. He was insulting you, and talking down to you, and it just pissed you off even more.

"Enough, both of you," Marcel said, getting in between the two of you. "You're both acting like children."

"Maybe because I'm dealing with a child," You muttered under your breath, and Marcel gave you a stern look.

"She's disrespectful, and ungrateful," Elijah said. "Perhaps I should teach her a lesson in obedience." He threatened, his eyes flashing darkly.

"No one needs to be taught a lesson in anything," Marcel said, looking pointedly at you. "Just. Stop." He sighed. "Both of you, just stop. I have a headache, and you two arguing isn't helping."

You glared at Elijah, and he glared back, but neither of you said anything. Marcel let out a long sigh and walked away, his fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose. "I need a drink," He muttered.

You watched him go, feeling a little guilty for upsetting him. He had a lot on his mind and he needed your help, not your petty arguments with Elijah.

"He's right, you know," Elijah said, and you turned your glare on him.

"You think I'm the problem? You're the one who antagonizes me, and talks down to everyone. What's your deal, anyways?" You asked, crossing your arms.

His lips turned up into a smug smile, "I'm not trying to upset you. I'm simply stating the truth."

"I don't like you." You said, shaking your head.

"The feeling is mutual," He said, and you raised an eyebrow.

"What the hell did I ever do to you?" You asked, and he laughed, moving closer to you.

"You constantly have your mouth open, yet nothing of substance comes out. You look down on me, despite knowing nothing of my past, and you think I owe you something. Your insolence is tiresome, and I'm sick of seeing your face." He said, his eyes boring into yours, and his gaze was so intense it was hard to maintain eye contact.

He was so close to you now, and his eyes flicked down to your lips, then back up. "Your mere presence is distracting."

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart hammering in your chest. You were angry, but you also wanted him. You hated that, but it was a truth you were having a hard time denying. You couldn't stop your eyes from moving over his body, and the way his stupid suit fit him so well, showing off his body.

"Well I think you are a self-righteous prick who can't accept the fact that people are allowed to have opinions that differ from yours. Just because you've lived for a millennia doesn't mean your opinion is more valuable than mine." You said, your eyes going to his lips, then back up. "You need to chill the fuck out and not take yourself so seriously. We aren't all your fucking minions. We don't all bow down and worship you."

He leaned in and his breath was fanning over your face. "You have got me all wrong."

"I don't think I do," You said, tilting your head up. "And you don't scare me."

His lips curved into a smirk and his eyes looked down at your lips, his hands coming up and gripping your waist.

And then he was kissing you.

His lips moved slowly over yours, and his hand cupped your jaw. He kissed you with such tenderness and care that you didn't know how to react. You didn't know if he was just using this as a way to humiliate you, but you were too far gone, and you kissed him back.

You knew it was a bad idea, but you couldn't stop yourself, and you didn't care anymore. He pulled you closer and his tongue swiped at your lower lip, and you let him in, moaning softly as his tongue moved over yours. He was an excellent kisser, and it annoyed you as much as it turned you on.

He pulled back, a smug smile on his face, "that's what I thought."

You blushed and looked away, your head spinning from the kiss. "Asshole."

He laughed and stepped away from you, adjusting his tie, "You're welcome."

You were so annoyed and flustered, and you glared at him. "Fuck off."

He chuckled and left, leaving you standing there, confused and aroused.

He was infuriating.

You had decided to leave New Orleans. You hated that Elijah was getting to you, and you didn't want to risk him using your feelings against you. You knew it was a mistake, he was messing with you in ways you didn't even think possible. You knew about his reputation of being manipulative and cruel, and you weren't going to get sucked into his game.

You had everything ready to go, you just had to tell Marcel. He would understand, although you weren't going to tell him about Elijah kissing you. That was just embarrassing.

But when you got to his loft, the only person there was Elijah. Sitting on the sofa, reading a book. He looked so good he was practically glowing, and you wanted to punch him for it.

He didn't look up from his book, "Marcel is out."

"I'll come back later," You said, turning, but he was in front of you, blocking the exit.

"We need to have a little chat," He said, looking down at you, and you sighed, crossing your arms.

"About what?" You asked, tapping your foot anxiously and looking at the door, wishing you could escape.

"Why are you avoiding me?" He asked, and you laughed, rolling your eyes.

"I'm not avoiding you, I have better things to do than waste my time with an arrogant prick," You said, and he narrowed his eyes at you.

"That's not true," He said, taking a step closer, and you took a step back, not liking the intensity of his gaze.

"Yes, it is." You said, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Why did you come here?" He asked, moving closer again, and you walked backwards until your back hit the wall, and he was caging you in.

"To tell Marcel I am leaving." You said, and he cocked his head.

"Where are you going?" He asked, and you frowned.

"Away."

"Why?" He asked, leaning forward, his face inches from yours.

"Fuck off." You said, exasperated by his line of questioning, it was none of his business.

His eyes flashed dangerously and he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head, holding them tightly.

"You are not as smart as you think you are," he growled, his lips inches away from yours.

You could feel his arousal pressing against your stomach, his hips pushing into yours.

"Neither are you," you snarled, trying to get out of his grip.

But he held your wrists tightly and leaned down, his teeth scraping against your neck.

"You talk so much, yap, yap, yap. But you never say anything meaningful," he whispered, his breath hot on your ear, "perhaps I should put your mouth to better use."

Your heart was beating frantically and your pussy was soaked. The tension between the two of you was finally breaking and the hatred was dissolving into something else entirely.

"I'd love to see you tr-"

His mouth was on yours before you could finish your sentence. It was rough and needy, his fangs digging into your lip, and his hands still pinning your wrists above your head.

His knee moved between your thighs and you moaned, rubbing yourself on his leg.

Elijah chuckled darkly, his tongue tracing the wound he'd made.

"How pathetic," he murmured, his hips rolling forward, his hard cock pressing against your core.

"So is your dick," you lied, trying not to gasp at the sensation, it definitely didn’t feel pathetic.

His fingers dug into your wrists, his eyes flashing with amusement and arousal. His free hand slipped underneath your dress, stroking your wet pussy.

"And yet here you are, dripping wet, and ready for me," he smirked, his fingers slowly circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. "Wearing a cheap, skimpy dress, practically begging me to fuck you,"

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," you groaned, your hips moving in rhythm with his hand.

He slid his middle finger inside your cunt, pumping it in and out, his palm grinding against your clit.

"Oh so, this is all just a figment of my imagination, is it?" He asked, adding another finger.

Your legs were shaking, and your breathing was heavy. You couldn't think straight, his fingers were hitting all the right spots.

"Fuck," you moaned, your back arching.

He kissed you hungrily, his tongue dominating your mouth, and his fingers pumping faster.

"Cum for me," he demanded, his teeth grazing your neck.

"No," you moaned, but your hips were moving on their own, seeking release.

"I wasn't asking, darling," he growled, his eyes meeting yours, compelling you, "Cum."

His voice echoed in your head, and you could feel the wave of pleasure wash over you. Your orgasm ripped through you, his fingers still moving inside you, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.

You were trembling, your legs barely holding you up, and your brain fuzzy.

He let go of your wrists, and pulled his fingers out of you, before licking them clean. He took a step back, smiling at the look on your face as he adjusted his cufflinks.

"Now, on your knees," he commanded.

Your legs obeyed immediately, sinking down and looking up at him.

"What a lovely sight," he said, smirking.

He cupped your chin, running his thumb over your lips.

"I've been imagining your lips around my cock, since the first day I saw you," he said, unbuckling his belt, giving your cheek a little slap.

"Now open up and take it all,"

You opened your mouth and he shoved his cock inside. He was big, bigger than anyone you had ever sucked off. And he wasn't shy about using his power to keep you in place. His hands were tangled in your hair, tugging and pulling, and his cock was hitting the back of your throat.

Your eyes were watering, but he didn't care, he kept going, using your mouth, making you gag. He felt amazing on your tongue, hot and hard, and the taste of him was driving you crazy. You could feel yourself getting wetter, the more he fucked your mouth, and your hips were rocking, desperate for friction.

"Look at you, taking it so well, such a good girl," he praised, his thrusts becoming deeper, and his voice sounding strained.

Your eyes met his, your mascara running down your cheeks. He looked so good, his lips parted and his eyes glazed with lust. His dominating nature was intoxicating, and you were drunk on his cock. The feeling of him sliding down your throat, and his moans of pleasure, made you feel so good, it was addictive. Your hand slipped between your thighs, rubbing your clit, and making yourself moan around his cock.

He slapped your face gently, tutting.

"Naughty girl," he said, his voice a low rumble, "keep touching yourself, and I'll punish you."

You looked up at him, and rubbed yourself faster, daring him to stop you.

His eyes darkened, and he pushed himself deep inside your mouth, his cock pulsing as he cummed down your throat.

"Swallow it," he ordered, and you did, licking his cock clean.

You were a mess, your makeup smeared, and your body trembling with need. You wanted to be fucked. So. Badly.

Elijah looked at you, a smirk playing on his lips. He grabbed you by your hair and pulled you to your feet, his eyes roaming over your body.

"Such a pretty thing," he said, pushing you back against the wall, his fingers teasing the sensitive skin of your neck, "I knew you could behave."

He pulled his handkerchief out and wiped the tears and mascara from your face, before putting it away.

"There we are," he smiled, tucking his cock back into his pants, and buckling his belt.

"Are you not going to fuck me?" You asked, frustrated that he was leaving you unsatisfied.

"Oh no, my dear, that's your punishment," he said, grabbing a bottle of scotch and pouring a glass. He glanced up at you, seemingly confused on why you were still standing there, and nodded towards the door.

"You may go,"

You huffed, and walked towards the door, feeling angry and humiliated. But his voice stopped you.

"Oh, and darling?"

You turned and saw him grinning at you.

"Don't think I'm done with you,"

You were definitely leaving now, you had to. You couldn't stand another moment in New Orleans. The way Elijah had used you and humiliated you. You couldn't handle it, you had to get away. You needed to be as far away from him as possible.

But Marcel insisted that you come to a party he was hosting, it was a goodbye celebration for you. And you didn't want to let him down, he was one of the few friends you had.

You were packing your things, planning on leaving immediately after the party, when you heard a knock on your door.

You opened it to find a large box, wrapped in beautiful silver paper and tied with a blue ribbon. There was a card attached to it, and you picked it up, curious to know who it was from.

Wear this. I will be picking you up at 8 – E

You groaned, not wanting to see him. You had been doing your best to avoid him, and this was not helping.

The dress he had sent over was gorgeous, it was black and long, and the fabric was silky. The straps were thin and delicate, and the cut was low, and it was sexy, but not revealing. It was an expensive designer brand that was impossible to get, and the fact that he had somehow just had one that was your size pissed you off.

He was so smug and cocky, and the worst part was, he had great taste, and the dress was perfect. You didn't want to like anything about him, he was even good at being infuriating.

At exactly eight a car arrived to pick you up, and Elijah was in the backseat, waiting. He was dressed impeccably, and his eyes roamed over you, a smirk forming on his lips.

"You look stunning," he said, as you sat down, and the driver pulled away. "It's nice to see you in fine clothing."

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the compliment, and staring out the window. His hand went to your thigh, pushing up the dress a little to reveal the top of the stockings you were wearing.

"Is this for me? How thoughtful."

You swatted his hand away, giving him a glare. "I don't dress for any man. I dress for myself,"

"Of course, I would expect nothing less from a strong independent woman," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, refusing to engage with him. He leaned over, his lips brushing your ear, and his fingers sliding over your thigh. "You do lots of other things for a man though, don't you?"

You bit your lip, the memory of being on your knees for him, and how good it felt to have him fuck your mouth, flooded your mind. You kept your composure, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

"No," you said, glancing at him.

He chuckled and put his arm around you, his fingers dancing along your bare shoulders. You wanted to push him away, but the heat of his body was nice, and you didn't hate the way his touch made you feel.

"We shall see about that."

When you arrived at Marcel's party, you were greeted with cheers, the local vampires loved any excuse to celebrate.

Marcel gave you a hug and poured you a drink, "I'm going to miss having you around, but I understand."

You gave him a smile and took a sip of your drink. "I can never stay in one place for long,"

"I know, and that's what I admire about you," he said, before turning to a vampire who had come to talk to him.

You were standing alone, looking around at the crowd of people. Trying to avoid Elijah, but also keeping an eye out for him.

"Having a good time?"

His voice made you jump and you turned to find him standing behind you, a glass of whiskey in his hand.

"It's alright," you shrugged, trying to act cool, and not like you had just been caught looking for him.

"You seem lonely," he said, leaning closer.

"I'm fine, thank you," you said, taking a step back, but his hand reached out, grabbing your arm, and pulling you against him.

"You keep lying, why is that?" He whispered, his breath warm on your ear.

You shook your head, your heart racing. You could feel his body pressed against yours, and his lips ghosting over your skin.

"Is it because you're attracted to me?" He asked, his tongue darting out and licking the shell of your ear.

"No," you said, but your voice was unsteady, and your breath caught.

"Oh, so you just suck any man's cock then? That's an interesting hobby."

You tried to move away, but his grip tightened, and he turned you to face him. His expression was teasing, but his eyes were dark and intense.

"I apologize, I'm not usually so crude. It's just that seeing you in this dress..," he trailed off, his eyes roaming over your curves, his voice thick with lust.

You blushed, your skin burning, and your pussy getting wet. He was so close, his hands sliding down your body, his touch setting your nerves alight.

"I don't like you," you said, but it sounded weak, and he grinned.

"I know," he murmured, his fingers finding their way under the hem of your dress, dancing along the bare skin above your stockings.

"So why are you letting me touch you?" He asked, his lips brushing against yours.

"Because you are irritatingly fucking hot," you admitted, your body melting into his, his closeness clouding your senses.

"Ah, and there is that honesty I have been searching for," he smirked, his hands gripping your ass.

"Shut up," you said, your eyes locked on his. "Why must you be so arrogant?"

"It's not arrogance, it's confidence. You should try it sometime."

He was smiling now, his eyes twinkling. He had truly pissed you off with his boundless ego and you were done with him. You gave him a little push and then stormed out the exit. Marcel would have to understand, you just had to leave this stupid city, right now.

Elijah followed you, grabbing your wrist, and pulling you into a side room, away from the noise and bustle of the party.

"Have I upset you?" He grinned, pressing you against the wall.

"Yes," you seethed, your jaw clenched, and your blood boiling. You pushed hard on his chest, but he didn't budge, just looked down at your hands with an amused expression.

"What can I do to make it better?" He asked, pressing his palms into the wall on both sides of your head.

"Fuck off."

His grin widened, and he leaned in, his nose nuzzling against yours.

"No," he said, his lips brushing over yours. "I don't think I will,"

Your eyes closed as his mouth captured yours. The kiss was soft and sweet, his lips moving slowly, exploring yours. It was intoxicating, his taste and scent overwhelming. You felt yourself giving in once again, kissing him back, your hands clutching his shirt, pulling him closer.

He hummed, pleased, and his hand slipped behind your head, angling your mouth for deeper access. He was such a control freak, and it only turned you on more.

"You like me," he stated between kisses, his hips rocking forward, his cock hard and straining against his pants.

"No I don't ," you lied, trying to ignore how good his body felt against yours, his lips trailing down your neck.

"And yet, here you are," he smirked, his fangs scraping along the skin, "ready and willing."

You moaned, tilting your head to the side, and allowing him better access. He ran his fangs along your pulse point, nipping at the skin.

"Tell me you don't want me, and I'll stop," he whispered, his hands pulling the straps of your dress down, his mouth trailing kisses along your collarbone and down to the swell of your breasts.

"I don't," you moaned, even though you knew it wasn't true. You wanted him, desperately.

"Naughty little liar," he said in a teasing tone, his hands squeezing your breasts, and his thumbs rubbing over the hard peaks of your nipples. He was getting you so worked up, it was so infuriating and so arousing.

He suddenly stopped touching you, moving back and leaning against the wall across from you, acting like nothing happened, his hands clasped in front of him.

You looked at him, confused and turned on.

"What the fuck?"

"Tell me you want me," he said, his expression smug.

"I hate you," you replied, frustrated, scowling at him and trying to fix your dress.

"That's not an answer."

"I'm not going to beg for it," you snapped, annoyed and desperate. You hated that he had this effect on you. You wanted him so bad, but he was making you work for it, and the game was getting old. But there was a part of you that liked it, the way he was challenging you, the power play, it was hot. But he was pushing his luck. 

"I’m just going to go find someone else," you said, trying to sound cool and disinterested, but failing miserably. You were too flustered, your skin flushed, and your breath short. 

He laughed, shaking his head and holding out his hand, gesturing for you to take it. "I don't think so," he said, a smirk playing on his lips, "come here."

You looked at him, hesitating, but your desire won out, and you placed your hand in his.

He smirked, his fingers interlacing with yours, and he guided you upstairs. His pace was slow, leisurely, and it was maddening.

"I thought you lived at the compound?" You asked, following him down a hallway.

"I have multiple residences," he said, unlocking a door and pushing it open.

You rolled your eyes, of course he did, he was so fucking extra.

"After you," he said, his eyes shining with amusement.

"How chivalrous," you muttered, stepping inside.

His loft was elegantly decorated, with a large four poster bed, and expensive art on the walls. It was so very him, but you kinda liked it.  His taste was refined, and the space was masculine and sexy. You could already picture how the night was going to go, him fucking you on the large bed, the curtains drawn, and his fangs in your neck. Your pussy clenched at the thought, and you bit your lip. This man had you all twisted up, and he had barely even touched you.

His hands found your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh, and his lips brushed the back of your neck. "Do you like what you see?" He murmured, his hands sliding down to squeeze your ass.

"It's alright," you smirked, turning and wrapping your arms around his neck. "The view's pretty good," you teased, looking into his eyes.

"Get on the bed," he murmured, his breath hot on your skin.

"Or what?" You teased.

He didn't say a word, just stared at you, his gaze intense. You felt a rush of adrenaline, and excitement, and you decided to push your luck. He was so cocky, and it was time to put him in his place. You stood your ground, trying to maintain eye contact, but it was impossible, he was so dominating. He gripped your hips, and lifted you up, throwing you onto the bed. You landed with a bounce, and he was on top of you, his hands pinning your wrists above your head.

You giggled and tried to break free, using your forearms to try and push him away. He was such a powerful man, and it made you feel vulnerable, but in a good way. In a way that had your pussy soaking, and your skin burning. He smiled and nipped at your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.

"Behave," he warned, his lips moving down to your chest, and his fingers tugging at the top of your dress.

"Make me," you taunted, knowing it would set him off.

He ripped the dress off of you, making you gasp in surprise, and he sat back, his gaze roaming over your body, clad in nothing but the lingerie and stockings.

"I don't have any other clothes here, asshole!" you whined, annoyed that he had destroyed your beautiful dress.

"I'll buy you more," he said, his voice husky and deep, "so many more,"

He slid down, his tongue running over the swell of your breast, his hand pulling the lace fabric aside. He sucked the nipple into his mouth, and bit down, his fangs sinking into your flesh. You cried out, the pain mixing with the pleasure, and the sound of his low growls vibrating through you.

You squirmed and pulled this hair, trying to get him to stop, but he just bit down harder. Your back arched and you whimpered, tears forming in your eyes.

"Elijah!"

He released you, and licked the wound, sealing the bite, and making the pain subside.

"Are you done being a brat?" He asked, his hands stroking your sides.

"Yes," you panted, still trying to recover from the bite.

"Good," he murmured, his lips trailing down to your stomach.

He pulled at the band of one of your stockings, letting it snap against your thigh. He did the same to the other, humming softly as he did, before finally moving down, and burying his face between your legs.

He was frustratingly good with his tongue, his mouth sucking and licking, his hands spreading your thighs wide. You could feel the pleasure building, and your orgasm fast approaching. Your hands fisted in his hair, and you rolled your hips, trying to ride his face. But he held you still, controlling how much pleasure you received.

He eased two fingers inside you, slowly pumping them as his lips closed around your clit, his tongue swirling over it. You kicked your legs, the sensation was intense, and you were so close, the pressure building in your core.

He curled his fingers and the dam broke, a loud cry tearing from your throat as you came. He continued to work you, prolonging the bliss, and making you tremble.

He stopped and looked up at you. His face was glistening and his pupils were dilated, his eyes dark.

"Just admit that you like me," he teased, kissing your inner thigh.

"Not a chance," you smirked, still catching your breath.

He growled, and flipped you over, yanking your ass up, and spreading your cheeks.

"Then I'll have to make you," he said, his thumb tracing the seam of your asshole. His other hand coming down and spanking you, making you squeal in surprise.

He rubbed the sting, soothing the pain, and then smacked you again, this time a little harder. You gasped, burying your face in the pillows, and your fingers digging into the sheets. He alternated, slapping one cheek, and then the other, the pain becoming more intense each time.

"Elijah!"

He ignored you, his hand coming down on your ass, hard, and you cried out, your body shaking. He kept going, the blows landing faster and faster, and you were sure there were tears running down your face, the pain overwhelming.

He paused, his fingers ghosting over the heated skin.

"I'm sorry, am I being too rough?" He asked, his voice thick with sarcasm.

You glared over your shoulder at him, and he smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I thought you were a gentleman," you shot back, annoyed with him.

"I can be," he purred, his finger dipping lower, and tracing the entrance of your pussy, "when I want to,"

You moaned, pushing back against his hand, and his fingers pumped slowly. His other hand went to the back of your neck, pressing your face into the mattress, holding you still.

He added a third finger, stretching you, and making you whimper. He leaned over you, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Just give in," he whispered, his voice husky and low. "It'll be so much easier."

You bit your lip, trying to fight it, but he was too skilled, and your will was fading. You moaned, rolling your hips, and grinding against his hand.

He pushed his thumb into your asshole, making you gasp, and he chuckled, his other fingers curling and hitting your g-spot. The stimulation was overwhelming, and the pleasure was building fast. You could feel yourself getting closer, the tension in your core reaching its peak. He was relentless, his fingers and thumb pumping in and out, the sounds of your wetness filling the room. You were moaning, begging, pleading, the need for release consuming you.

"Tell me," he commanded, suddenly stopping. "Tell me how much you like me." His hand moved from the back of your neck and grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back, and making you gasp.

"Fine! Fine! I fucking like you, ok? I like you! I like your stupid face, and your stupid hair, and your stupid sexy accent, and your stupid dick!" You snapped, frustrated and desperate. You couldn't take the teasing anymore. "Are you happy now?!"

He chuckled, letting go of your hair, and pushing your head back into the pillow. He leaned down and kissed your ass cheek, his lips brushing against the hot, sore skin, before he moved, flipping you onto your back. He spread your legs, and settled between them, his fingers running along your thighs.

You grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards you, and kissing him hard, biting his bottom lip. You were tired of waiting, and you needed him. He growled, his hands cupping your face, and his tongue plunging into your mouth. The kiss was passionate and desperate, his body pressed flush against yours.

You unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders, and running your fingers over his muscles, feeling the strength of his body. You then tugged at his belt, taking out his cock, and stroking him, your thumb swirling over the head.

He smiled and groaned as you touched him, his hips thrusting into your hand. You spread your legs wider, but he made no move to enter you, his hand moving between your thighs, and rubbing your clit. You moaned, the sensation too much, and you pulled at his wrist. He was being so fucking frustrating, and you wanted him inside you, now.

"Stop teasing me," you complained, glaring up at him.

"Why? its so much fun," he said, smiling wickedly. "I could watch you squirm for hours." He pushed the tip of his cock against your entrance, circling your clit, but still not penetrating you. 

"Tell me again," he said, "tell me how you like me, how much you want me," his hips rocking, his cock pushing and withdrawing, but never going deep enough to satisfy you.

"You are an arrogant prick, who knows exactly what he does to me." You said, your breathing labored.

He smiled and slowly eased into you, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt him inch his way inside, and you moaned, your head rolling back. He filled you completely, stretching you, and making your body burn with pleasure. It felt incredible, your pussy throbbing around him. He groaned, and nipped at your neck, his fangs gliding against the skin. You clutched at him, your nails scratching his back, as his hips started moving, slowly fucking you. 

You were already on the verge of orgasm, the tension coiling inside you, ready to snap. He felt too good, his cock hitting all the right spots, and his fingers playing with your clit. You were falling apart beneath him, your back arching, and your thighs quivering. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he affected you, as the waves of ecstasy washed over you, you bit down on your lip, trying to hide just how good he felt.

But it was no use, your body betraying you, your cheeks hot and your walls tightening around him. He smiled and kissed your neck, his tongue swirling over your pulse point.

"See, it's not so hard to give in," he purred, his hips slowly rolling.

"Shut up," you managed to get out, still panting, and your limbs weak.

"Already cumming on my cock, and we haven't even really started," he teased. He began to fuck you in earnest, thrusting hard and deep, his cock hitting your sweet spot with each stroke. 

You gripped his biceps, your nails digging into his skin, and you could feel his muscles flexing under your touch. His cock was so thick, stretching you, you spread your legs wider, wanting him even deeper.

"Look at you, so desperate for me," he smirked, his hands moving to your hips, lifting them and changing the angle.

You moaned, and he chuckled, his lips ghosting over your neck.

"So responsive, and so beautiful. My sweet girl," he whispered, his words washing over you.

"I'm... fuck- not… your girl." you breathed, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your heart pounding in your ears.

"Maybe not yet, but you will be," he said, his voice confident, his eyes locking with yours.

He was so sure of himself, and it only turned you on more.

"You wish, Mikaelson."

He laughed, his breath warm on your skin. He thrust hard, hitting the spot deep inside, and making you cry out.

"I do," he said, his eyes searching yours, "and I always get what I want."

You knew it was true, he was so fucking cocky, and the worst part was, you wanted him to have you.

He leaned back, pulling you up with him, and holding you in his lap, his cock impossibly deep inside. His hands went to your hips, guiding your movements, and his eyes never left yours.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, rocking your hips, and taking him deeper. The way he was looking at you, intense, and possessive, it was doing things to you. You couldn't tear your gaze away, your chest heaving, and your nipples brushing against his chest. You squeezed his cock, trying to make him go harder, faster, but his pace remained steady, firm, his grip on your hips tightening. It was all too much and you buried your face in the crook of his neck, overwhelmed by him, and everything you were feeling for him.

He groaned, and smacked your ass, hard. You whimpered and dug your nails into his shoulders. His hands ran up and down your back, soothing the sting.

"No hiding," he said, his voice firm. "I want to see all of you."

You lifted your head, meeting his eyes, your eyelids heavy, cheeks flushed and your mouth open in a silent moan. 

"That's it," he murmured, his lips capturing yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth. "Show me how much you like me," he teased, nipping at your lower lip.

You placed your hands on his chest, moving your legs to straddle him, and his cock slid deeper. You rocked back and forth, slowly at first, and then increasing the pace.

His expression was serious, his eyes fixed on you, and his hands holding your waist. It was like he was memorizing every inch of your body, and the way you felt, the way you moved. You could see the desire in his eyes, the lust, and something else, something softer.

"I like the way you're looking at me," you murmured, your nails dragging along his chest.

He hummed and grabbed your wrists, pinning them behind your back, his other arm wrapping around your waist, and pulling you flush against him.

"I like the way you feel," he replied, his hips rocking into you.

"I bet you say that to all the girls," you teased, knowing it would get a rise out of him.

"Only the ones I can't stop thinking about."

"Mmm, are there many of those?"

He laughed, shaking his head, and kissing your shoulder.

"None that compare to you."

His words, so unexpectedly sweet, made your heart flutter, and a blush creep onto your cheeks.

"Elijah..." you breathed, and he seemed pleased by your reaction.

His hands went to the small of your back and he pulled you closer, your breasts pressed against his chest. You could feel his heartbeat against yours, your skin warm and slick. The anticipation of what was to come sent a shiver down your spine. You threaded your fingers in his hair, gripping it as his hands went to your ass, guiding you on his cock.

"You don't have to leave, you can stay here with me," he said, his voice low and his eyes locked on yours.

You shook your head, not wanting to give in, not wanting him to know how much he affected you. How much you actually wanted that, wanted him.

"I don't like you that much," you replied, your lips brushing his as you spoke.

He smiled and kissed you again, his hand running down your back. You rolled your hips, grinding against him, your clit rubbing against his pelvis. Your movement picked up, and he moaned into your ear, his grip on your ass tighter. You could feel the pressure rising, the intensity becoming overwhelming. Your body tensed, your orgasm close, and Elijah gripped your hips and slowed you down, wanting to make the moment last.

"Stay?" He whispered, his nose nuzzling yours.

"You are so annoying," you muttered, and his chest rumbled with laughter.

"Is that a yes?"

You nodded, and his lips pressed against yours, his hands lifting you up and down. You moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound. The kiss became messy, both of you chasing the pleasure, the friction and the heat almost unbearable. You broke the kiss, panting, and the coil in your core snapped.

You moaned his name in long, drawn out syllables, your forehead pressed against his. He held you tight, his body tense as your pussy clenched around his cock. He watched you, his breathing heavy, his eyes glazed with desire. His hands traced your spine, lightly grazing the skin, and leaving goosebumps in their wake. You could tell he was fighting the urge to cum, wanting to drag out the moment. You looked at him and gave him a small smile, no more teasing, no more games. You touched his cheek, and kissed him, the kiss soft and sweet. Your breath caught in your throat, the intimacy of the gesture overwhelming. His arms tightened around you, his lips moving against yours, and you knew he was falling too, his control failing him.

He let go of your hips, his fingers clutching your ass. You wrapped your legs around his waist and rode him hard and fast, your clit rubbing against his pubic bone. He groaned into your mouth, his cock throbbing inside of you, and you felt him cum, his warmth flooding your body. You rested your head on his shoulder, catching your breath, and trying to make sense of what just happened. You never imagined that sleeping with Elijah would feel so right, so complete. Your mind kept telling you that this was a bad idea, but the connection between you was too strong to ignore.

He kissed your neck, his lips grazing the skin, and you let your eyes drift closed, succumbing to the warmth and comfort of his arms. He really was too good at this. 

"I meant what I said, about you staying." He murmured, his breath tickling your ear. "I like you, a lot."

He pulled away, brushing a few errant strands from your face, his fingers lingering. His dark eyes held nothing but sincerity and you knew then, in that moment, that despite your resolve not to like him, this wasn't just going to be a one time thing.

"I know," you sighed, your hands stroking his jaw, "you are very persuasive."

He chuckled and kissed you again.

"You'll stay?" He asked, his smile growing.

"I'll stay."

"Good," he hummed, kissing your neck, and nipping at your earlobe. 

His lips captured yours, and he kissed you, the passion and desire still burning. He kissed you until your lips were bruised and swollen, until your heart was pounding, and your skin was flushed.

"I still think you are an asshole," you said, once he'd pulled away.

"And I still think you are a brat," he smirked, his fingers tracing patterns on your back.

You laughed, and rested your head on his shoulder, enjoying the moment, the closeness, the warmth of his arms, and the steady beat of his heart.

You couldn't help but surrender.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡

♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

[deathbxnny]

YQ's Mother Requestor Anon here! I see the calling of angst so I am here to give! Can I request Mother!Reader and Baby Lai getting attacked with Reader almost dying bc they tried to protect our beloved baby but somehow survived, just in a coma? Yanqing managed to save them by unaliving the attackers like a madman [then Jing Yuan gets flashbacks about Jingliu's rampage on him] and only regains his humanity bc of his sister, then they run to a hospital!

Reader still lives (bc its fun to watch them slowly be traumatized) and heals, both physically and somewhat mentally!

-----♡

A/N: Hey there! Thank you for this great idea and sorry it took 50000 years for me to get to it. Life genuinely hates me lately and I've been extremely busy even on the weekends rn, so yeah... forgive me.

Content: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, murder, mentions of murder, injuries, child endangerment, violence, near death, good ending

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

You just wanted to take a quick walk around the Luofu with your baby, as you haven't been able to move around much after her birth. You smiled gently down at her, your hands keeping her close under your cloak, a soft hum of a tune leaving your lips, when you looked out into the distance. The sun was starting to set, bathing the world in a warm, orange hue. It was peaceful... until it wasn't.

In an instant, you were suddenly attacked by some Mara-struck soldiers, your body scrambling backwards, as you tightly clutched onto your baby. You had accidentally wandered out of the safe zones, completely distracted by the beauty of the area to really notice where you were going. You should've been more careful and yet, it was too late to regret everything now, when a next attack came swinging at the direction of your child.

You quickly turned away, taking the hit fully, your body skidding across the floor violently. But you still made sure that your child wasn't injured, even when she began to cry. Your head hit the ground, disorienting you, as the injury began to bleed. And whilst you were struggling to lift your head, your hands still so desperately holding your baby close to you, familiar swords suddenly appeared in your blurry vision. You could barely hear anything anymore, but when you saw the rough outline of your son, you let out a relieved sigh and just finally passed out, knowing that you and your baby were saved.

The enemies however stood no chance against Yanqing's wrath, as he practically ripped them all apart, even ditching his swords at one point. He was angry, beyond enraged. The thought of someone hurting his mother and little sibling was making him delirious and it took 5 cloud knights and eventually Jing Yuan to drag him off of whatever was left of the attackers. Jing Yuan was irked by how familiar the sight was, a memory of a distant, dark past flashing through his mind, before he quickly forgot it at the soft cries of his infant child.

It also calmed down Yanqing, who slumped in the cloud knights hold and finally just concluded that he had gotten his revenge, before he allowed himself to be taken away. You were brought to a hospital quickly after as well, having taken the brunt of all attacks, which left you quite injured. But the mental scars were arguably worse. It took you a while to be able to go outside again, the paranoia over something like that happening once more being always on the forefront of your mind. Your child also never left your eye sight, as you kept her in arms reach at all times.

Jing Yuan and Yanqing supported you greatly through your recovery journey, making you heal in no time again, for the most part. The scars and fears would always stay... even if they just lingered now in the back of your mind.

-----♡

A/N: God... I'm so sorry again for how long this took. I hope it's somewhat okay and that you can forgive me lmao-

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr jing yuan #hsr jing yuan x reader #hsr yanqing #hsr yanqing x reader #hsr

[holesandlividity]

Right Where You Left Me

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

W.C: 1.1k

Authors Note :) : enjoy the cutesy stuff while you can

Warnings: Violence, Death, Blood, Alcohol Consumption, Smoking, (eventual) Smut, if it's in TLOU it's in here basically. (None of this happens in this chapter!!)

Prologue: You were in love with Joel Miller even after he left you all those years ago. You couldn’t help but replay that night in your mind for as long as you lived. Joel had probably already moved on, hell he was probably dead. You knew he wasn’t, Joel Miller was one of the most stubborn assholes you had ever met. He wouldn't let some fungus take him out, but it was still easier to imagine him peacefully asleep forever instead of struggling for the rest of his life. Or maybe he wasn’t struggling, maybe he was cozying up with Sarah and some mystery woman who he called his wife on a beat up couch in an old worn down QZ. It wasn’t a lot but to them it was home. As much as the thought of Joel with another little family hurt like hell, it was better than him in a ditch somewhere. While he was moving on you were right where he left you that night, you may not have been in Texas physically but mentally you were. You were in your single bedroom apartment, just a ten minute drive from his place. He had called you late that night telling you he was going to bail Tommy out of jail and pick you up afterwards. You were supposed to celebrate his birthday with him. That never happened. You never got to give him his birthday card that told him exactly what you loved about the man. You never got to lay in his arms as you watched his favorite movie with Sarah. You never got to spend forever with him like you so badly wanted to.

══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══

The morning sun was just rising as you woke up. The room was filled with a golden hue that gave the man in front of you an almost angelic appearance. Joel's tanned skin was accentuated by the warm light, and the muscles on his arm, which lay gently over your hip, were more defined due to the shallow lighting. He looked truly beautiful like this, without any worry lines etched on his forehead and his breathing calm and even, The only time he seemed to be at peace was when sleeping with you in his arms.

You whispered his name and ran your fingers through his unkempt curls. You didn't want to disturb him, but if you didn't try to wake him first, Sarah would come barging in with more energy than he could keep up with in the morning.

"Come on, handsome, you gotta get up. Sarah will be running in here any second," you said gently. Joel mumbled something that went unnoticed by you and instead grabbed your hand that was running through his hair, interlocking your fingers.

"Let her come in; I just want a few more minutes with you." he replied sleepily. He kissed the hand he held, tightened his arm around your tired frame. "As much as I would love to stay here with you forever, I gotta make breakfast."

"Sarah can cook today, please just five more minutes?" He begged.

"If Sarah cooks, you'll end up with a plate of eggshells and raw bacon. How about I come get you when I'm done cooking okay? You can sleep a little bit more." Joel grumbled but lifted his arm off of you letting you know that you were free to go. You pushed a few more curls off his head and placed a kiss on his temple before getting up as he barely whispered an "I love you", still filled with sleep.

══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══

Walking down the hallway to check on Sarah, who was found in a similar state of sleep as her father, you realized that even though this small family may not appear as much to others, the Millers were everything to you. Even Tommy, despite being a pain in your ass most of the time, was family, and you wouldn't replace anyone in your little family for anything.

You looked for the pancake mix that Joel promised Sarah, but of course you couldn't find it. Joel had forgotten to buy it on his latest grocery trip once again. Just eggs, bacon and potatoes then.

As you were almost done with breakfast, you heard old wooden stairs creaking under someone's weight, presumably Sarah's, before feeling a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. "Good mornin’, baby. It smells delicious." He hid his face in your neck and planted innocent kisses on the sides of your neck.

"Good morning handsome, the coffee is already done. I'll just finish up these eggs before I go wake Sarah and start serving plates."

"I'm going to marry you someday, you know that? You go wake Sarah up; I'll finish up down here." He detangled himself from you and gave you a quick peck on the lips before sending you on your way. "You better, Miller. I'll be waiting for the day until then."

══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══

When you walked into Sarah’s room she was up and ready to go, minus the mess of hair she was struggling to put in a ponytail, her hair just as wild as her daddy’s. “You want some help with that babe?”

“For the love of god please. It won't work with me today.” She frowned at herself in the mirror picking at the random curls that surrounded her face.

You smoothed out the sheets on her bed before patting on the mattress for her to take a seat next to you. She faced forward as you brushed her hair back for her and smoothed it down with a spray bottle filled with water and coconut oil, you carefully tied the hair tie around her ponytail moving some bits of hair around until she decided it was to her liking. “Alright kid, you're all done, so is breakfast, go get something to eat before school.”

“Thank you, love you!” Sarah rushed out of her room and you heard her quick footsteps on the creaky stairs as she practically ran to her father in the kitchen.

You would never get used to Sarah’s words of affection towards you. Each time the girl muttered an “I love you” or each time she told you she wished Joel would marry you already so you could officially be her mom, it tugged on your heartstrings in the purest of ways.

Even if she didn’t come from you and Joel together she was still your daughter no doubt. Joel referred to you as “Your Mom” or “Your Momma” when he spoke about you around the girl and each time it brought a smile to your face and a sting to your eyes. Three years with the Millers and you already felt like this was where you were meant to be for the rest of your life.

In a way your heart would forever stay frozen in the Miller household just not in the way you thought it would be.

══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══

You would never forget the day the outbreak happened. The day Joel left you for dead.

You were getting ready to go over to Joel’s to celebrate his 32nd birthday, you remembered he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it and he specifically requested no presents from you. How could you not though?

He was the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with of course you wanted to make a big deal out of it. Instead you ended up alone with a bottle of his favorite whiskey, a copy of that stupid movie he always talked about, and a handwritten note you got Sarah to sign as well. He had to bail Tommy out of jail for some fight in a bar and then he promised he would be right over. You should’ve realized he wasn’t coming to pick you up like he promised when his phone sent you to voicemail for the fourth time in a row

“Hey Joel I know you’re probably still busy but call back when you can? Happy birthday I love you.” If you knew that was the last time you were ever going to “speak” to him you would’ve said so much more, but how could you have known.

You heard the world ending before you saw it, you were laying on your side staring at your still blank phone screen waiting for a call back when you heard the screams. These weren’t the yells you were used to hearing on the busy Texas streets, no, these were blood-curdling, gut wrenching screams of pure panic and terror. When you saw the fires outside and the people stampeding over each other you only had one thing on your mind. Joel and Sarah.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou series #joel miller x you #tlou hbo #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

[pink-tk-a-latte]

Day in the Life of the Nakajima Household

Aka Atsushi’s tiny dorm at the ADA that he is forced to share with 3 murderous individuals.

Tickle fic!! Lee!Atsushi, Lers!Lucy, Kyouka, and Akutagawa + a little Ler!Atsushi, Lee!Lucy (romantic Akuatsulucy and platonic Kyouka addition)

It’s the orphan poly + fellow orphan Kyouka!!!! ❤️🤍🖤💙 I wrote this a while ago so it’s all in present tense LOL. When I first had the idea, I was hesitant, but then I started actually watching the BSD anime and got to know all their characters better so here it is!! They make me SO EMOTIONAL

Also bonus mini HCs at the end!!!!!!!!!

(Ignore the cringey ahh emoticons LMAO it’s just that all of them are so creature-coded)

ᓚᘏᗢ ♡ ≽^•⩊•^≼ ♡ ૮(˶• ༝ •˶)ა ♡ /ᐠ •̀ ˕ •́ マ ♡ ՞ↀ - ↀ՞

Atsushi’s dorm at the Agency is certainly not made to house four people. It’s hardly big enough for two. Kunikida looks one noise complaint away from bursting a vein in his forehead, but, well, nothing has ever gone to plan as long as Atsushi’s involved.

Despite their statuses as Port Mafia operative and former Guild disciple, Lucy and Akutagawa come over so often that Atsushi’s colleagues hardly bat an eye. The two have even taken to calling it “their place,” which Atsushi thinks is kinda unfair — both for his living situation and his heart.

It’s a peaceful kind of day today. Kyouka’s inside journaling, Aku’s at the store — because he has the most stable paycheck — getting groceries, and Atsushi and Lucy are outside, watering the plants around the building.

“Someday you should get us a garden,” Lucy says while she sprinkles water over the tiny blossoming daisies. “So we can take care of our own plants instead of these ugly trees.”

Atsushi sends her a playful glare from where he’s watering said trees with a hose, smiling. “Do I have to do everything in this relationship? My pockets are crying thanks to you guys.”

Lucy scoffs. “Shut up, you! I give you discounts at the cafe all the time. I put my life on the line for you.” She tosses her hair and places a hand on her chest, and Atsushi holds back a laugh.

Maybe it’s his apprenticeship under Dazai, but Atsushi feels a bit mischievous today. In a move that he’ll probably regret later, he lifts the hose and rains fire over his life partner.

Gasping and spluttering, Lucy throws up her hands to block the spray. Her sundress soaks through and her braids quickly start to droop. She turns a murderous gaze on Atsushi through dark, sticky bangs, and he feels sweat run down his back.

“Atsushi Nakajima, you’re dead!” He spots a certain intensity in Lucy’s turquoise eyes.

Uh oh. He knows what that means.

Atsushi yelps and drops the hose, not even bothering to switch it off before he sprints. He employs his tiger strength, probably cheating, but Lucy could easily drag him away from reality and into Anne’s Room if she wants. Noticeably, she doesn’t, probably to drag out the anticipation. But she will have him. Atsushi is sure.

He races into the building and up the stairs. He doesn’t trust the elevator, but he has hope of escape if he continues on foot. In a blur, he spots his apartment number and pushes through the door, thankfully unlocked. Atsushi lunges for the closet, throws open the door and slams it shut behind him. He’s been on so many stealth missions; Atsushi knows how to be quiet. But he’s giddy from the chase and can barely restrain the frantic giggling he breathes out.

“Where are you, my cute little kitty? Come out, let’s play~!” He hears with his heightened senses. A shiver runs up his spine even while his face feels like an oven. He needs to remember that Lucy worked for the Guild, and their first meeting was a gamble for his and his coworkers’ lives. “Isn’t this a fun game! But you can’t hide forever.”

He really can’t, because there’s only so many places he can hide in his tiny apartment. He wonders what his chances are of getting out the closet and jumping through the window without Lucy noticing.

Just as he thinks this, though, the door flies open.

“Found you!” A grin full of metal shines through the darkness, and Atsushi screams. He tries to leap past her, but the wind is knocked out of his lungs as she tackles him onto his futon. Where did she get this strength from? Yet he doesn’t match her force with his own, mostly because, now that he’s caught, he’s found he doesn’t want to be free.

“Such a bad kitty,” she pulls him onto her lap with her elbows under his arms, and Atsushi feels her wet clothes press against his back. His ears are already pounding, hot. “I’ll show you what happens when you go up against Lucy Maud Montgomery!”

Suddenly there are fingers pressing into his sides. Atsushi yells out a panicked laugh. “A- Ahahaha! Luhuhucyhehehe I’m sorryhehehe!”

She huffs. “Well, you should’ve thought about that before you drenched me!”

This is just the consequences of his actions, isn’t it? Her nails tease under his shirt and he throws his head back. “Stahahahap! Stop Ihi yeheheheild! Lucyehehehe!”

She toes the line between unbearable and gentle. The feeling runs through Atsushi’s every nerve, frying his brain until he can’t do anything but kick and flail around on his sheets. Lucy holds him firmly, a satisfied smile on her face that he can’t see.

She is doing this for revenge, but gosh is Atsushi cute. His cheeks are full and red, his fangs peeking out from under his lip. His giggles are nervous and flighty but ingenuous, the purest kind of happiness. Warmth runs through her face without permission; she really wishes she didn’t have such an embarrassing ailment.

When Lucy digs her fingers into his ribs and Atsushi squeals loud enough to echo off the walls, Kyouka pokes her head in from the other room.

“Oh, are we getting Atsushi?” she asks with a small blink. Lucy grins and Atsushi pleads.

“Ky- Kyouka plehehease! Hehehelp! I’m gonnahahaha dahahahie!”

“We are indeed, Kyouka! And he deserves it. I’m sure he would love if you assisted me.”

Kyouka’s expression doesn’t change, but her eyes twinkle. She strides over and seats herself on top of Atsushi’s legs. He cracks open his eyes to give his little sister a look of betrayal.

“Kyouka! Youhaha’re supposed to help mehehehe!”

“No thanks,” she says blankly, before drilling into his hips with an assassin’s precision.

“KYOUHOHOKAHAHAHA!” Even Lucy is a little terrified by the focus in Kyouka’s eyes, as if she were performing a surgery. But mostly she’s just pleased. She takes her hands off Atsushi’s ribs to clap, then repositions them in his underarms.

“YOUHOUHAHA GUHUhuys are soho MEHEHEHEAN!”

“This is discipline,” Kyouka states very seriously, and Lucy too laughs at that. Kyouka reaches forward and pokes Atsushi’s cheek. “You’re so squishy. Like a bunny. Squish.”

Atsushi turns pink; Lucy really wishes that didn’t make her flustered. “He is, isn’t he?” She pokes his other cheek. “Just as a tabby cat should be.”

Then Lucy worms her fingers into his neck and he scrunches up. “EHEHEHEE nohohoHO!”

While Lucy’s methods are soft in an evil way, Kyouka attacks with honed, concentrated energy, deadly in her efficiency. And with both of them on opposite ends of his body, Atsushi has no room left for thought.

And then the front door shuts with a bang.

Perhaps Akutagawa is too aggressive with his actions, and he squints apologetically at the door he slammed. Setting down the grocery bags on the counter, he winces at the ruckus in the apartment. Is that the Jinko’s screaming?

He walks into the main room to find what he’d expected to see: Atsushi pinned to the floor with Kyouka and Lucy dissecting him.

“This is just like you, Jinko,” he scoffs with a note of fondness, squatting beside the squirming, laughing Atsushi. “You’re not even fighting back.”

“RYUHUHAHA dohohon’t!” Atsushi shakes his head, his face a deep pink and his eyes crinkled shut. His smile is just as blinding as the light of the sun. Gross, Akutagawa thinks with a mini smile.

“Akutagawa.” Kyouka turns to him with that river-like gaze, clear but acute. “Join us.” Lucy cackles.

He smirks. “If that is what I must do.”

Though she calls out to Ryuunosuke now, Kyouka hasn’t forgotten how his words kept dragging her down as she swam desperately toward the light. But then he said he was proud of her. Plus, well, he’s involved with Atsushi. Kyouka’s grown to trust him, at least as long as Atsushi’s around. The same goes for Lucy, who Kyouka resented at first for endangering Atsushi, and for her harsh personality that pushes everyone away. That was before though, before she learned that Lucy is genuinely kind, only a girl at heart, and she’s really fun to talk to, and hug, and go shopping for plushies and clothes and crêpes with.

Kyouka would defend Atsushi’s happiness with the blade of a katana and the might of a demon. Because he’s the one who saved her, because he’s her older brother. He has a way of bringing out the light in those with the blackest of blood. Though he’s made many enemies, he has twice as many friends, Lucy and Aku included. She’s never been more sure that they care for Atsushi than now, engaging in something so purely affectionate. That’s why Kyouka pitches in, because her heart is full to the limit.

Speaking of which, Atsushi seems to be reaching his limit.

“RYUHAHAHAHA! LUHUCYEHEAHAHAE! KYOUHAHAKAHAHA! STAHAHAHAHAP!”

Akutagawa is rough and awkward as he claws at the center of Atsushi’s abdomen. Even Rashoumon is crawling up and down his sides. Still sitting on his legs, Kyouka is moments away from flying off, and it’s only through sheer determination that she remains in place. Lucy has slowed her assault out of pity (because she is soft for this man and terrible at hiding it), slowly dragging her fingers across Atsushi’s jaw. Kyouka copies her: Akutagawa really is ruthless. Atsushi’s floundering and screaming is amusing though, and she can’t hold back the soft giggles escaping from her own chest. Though his laughter is desperate and embarrassed, it’s also bright and overwhelmed with love.

“You should learn to take this, weretiger. If you wish to help people, endurance and inspiration of the soul are necessary skills to have.”

Which is basically fancy talk for: Your joy could cure the world’s suffering and you should show it more often.

“LIHIHIHIKE you wouhAHALD KNOHOHOW! AHAHAHA wahahaHAIT!”

“How foolish of you to sass me in your position.”

Atsushi’s chest barely gets the chance to rise and fall before another laugh is forced out. He probably needs a breather. Lucy, despite being the one to start this, is also the first to end it.

“Now now, Aku. Give him a break. We were at this for a while before you came.”

Akutagawa hums, but he retracts his hand and his ability. Lucy and Kyouka let up, and Kyouka removes herself from Atsushi’s legs. Finally free, Atsushi collapses into Lucy’s lap with an inhale that could rival a tornado. He tries to regulate his breathing with giggles interrupting, and he buries his face against Lucy’s thigh, turning to his original assailant for comfort. Lucy blushes even redder than Atsushi himself had because his tiny exhausted closed-eye smile is the cutest thing she’s ever seen, but settles her hand on his back for a massage.

“You hahall… ahawful,” he titters. “Lucy, I’m sohorry for hosing you.”

Kyouka appears beside Lucy and pats Atsushi’s head. Lucy sighs as if she’d just been hit with the force of all the love in the world. “I suppose I can forgive you. I’m a little less soaked now, thanks for asking.”

“Sorry, sorry.” His chuckles turn to sleepy mumbles. “That’s good, though. I’m glad.”

“Quit apologizing.” Lucy covers her face with her equally red hair and turns away. “You’re such a sap.”

“Far too soft,” Akutagawa adds, leaning down to press a kiss to Atsushi’s upright cheek. Kyouka moves her hand so Lucy can kiss the cat’s head too, instead throwing her legs over him and leaning on Lucy’s shoulder. Akutagawa is a clumsy distance from the cuddle pile, hunched over Atsushi, so the tiger throws an arm around his other life partner’s shoulders and drags him down to rest on his back, maneuvering himself so he’s on his stomach, chin on Lucy’s lap. She runs her fingers through choppy white hair and shifts one leg to lay on Akutagawa’s arm and establish a point of contact with everyone. She laughs quietly as she looks over their entangled position, like some kind of Tetris puzzle.

And then she starts laughing for a very different reason.

“ATSUSHIHIHEHEHEE!”

Kyouka flinches as Lucy’s shoulder jolts her off and blinks rapidly. Then she catches sight of Lucy’s hysterical expression and wide open mouth, someone’s fingers scribbling up her sides, and understands. Screeching, Lucy kicks and shoves at the boy in her lap, the culprit, and realizes that with all the bodies piled on top of her, there is no escape.

Atsushi, the ever perseverant hero he is, grins up at her with teeth white as an angel but pointy as a beast. “Revenge.”

And this is what happens when you go up against Nakajima Atsushi.

ᓚᘏᗢ ♡ ≽^•⩊•^≼ ♡ ૮(˶• ༝ •˶)ა ♡ /ᐠ •̀ ˕ •́ マ ♡ ՞ↀ - ↀ՞

Ryu may have the most money but he has near-zero social capabilities. They all lack people skills actually, but Aku lost the last video game tournament. So he’s doing the grocery shopping.

Also they love each other <3

I don’t know why I got so emotional with Kyouka’s POV but it’s probably because I adore her to the ends of the earth. Two paragraphs of just Kyouka reflection bc I think she’s the type to start daydreaming in the middle of an attack.

Relationship HCs:

Atsushi and Lucy — like lonely little children in love, so desperately it hurts

Atsushi and Akutagawa — It’s Complicated™️ (it isn’t)

Akutagawa and Kyouka — it is actually complicated, but they’re getting there

Kyouka and Atsushi — the purest form of connection, siblings <3

Kyouka and Lucy — sisters who give each other the freedom to just be girls

Lucy and Akutagawa — from strangers to not so much so, united by their love for one special tiger (they’re still getting used to each other)

This is a long-ahh footnote I’m sorry

#py is turning pink #tickle #tickle fic #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd tickle #akuatsulucy #atsulucy #shin soukoku #lee!atsushi #ler!lucy #ler!akutagawa #ler!kyouka

[foranpo]

CASE FILE #06 ㅤTHE TRUE ESSENCE OF SOMEONE.

ㅤ ˖°.archieve.ㅤ ˖°.case file #05.ㅤ ˖°.case file #07. ‧₊˚.CONTENT ㅤㅤ ˖°.clients: ranpo edogawa, gn!reader. ㅤㅤ ˖°.wc: 1.033.

 ੈ♡˳────── enjoy the reading ♡ ──────

Nobody had prepared you for the end.

ㅤYou knew your grandmother was about to leave you, rising into the sky like a new star that would shine for you; you knew there would be a day where you would hug her for the last time, hold her hand for the last time, love her for the last time; you were perfectly aware of all of this –but that didn't stop the tears from streaming down your face when she couldn't get up that morning.

ㅤWhen you went to wake up your grandmother and came across what was once her body, now succumbing to time and destiny, completely destroyed by years lived and ruined dreams, you fought not to cry. You couldn't cry –at least, not in front of your grandmother.

ㅤWith care and patience, you gave breakfast to her, promising that you would come back for lunch to keep her company while you both ate, trying your best to hide the pain that was gnawing at your heart at seeing your grandmother so fragile, so weak, so defenseless.

ㅤIt was only a week. It had only been a week since Ranpo and Yosano's arrival. A single week –that was enough time. For seven long days, you watched your grandmother wasting away in front of you; for seven long days, you witnessed the drastic change in your grandmother's health; for seven long days, you believed that Ranpo and Yosano were enough to calm your grandmother's turbulent heart –but seven days, is a lifetime.

ㅤ“How is she?”

ㅤRanpo sat on the porch next to you, admiring the sick landscape that stretched beyond your house.

ㅤ“It seems like every day that passes, it gets worse. Even when we think there is nothing worse, she…”

ㅤYou sighed and let your head fall back, looking painfully at the gray sky of that cold morning. You felt the wind freezing your face, covering your skin with the pain of an eternal winter that would consume you for the remaining days.

ㅤ“Is she suffering?”

ㅤYou looked at Ranpo; the agent was looking at you carefully, his beautiful eyes fixed on your person waiting for a reaction, a response, a confirmation.

ㅤ“I think she is at peace. With you here, I feel like she’s okay.”

ㅤ“Isn’t that all that matters? Help your grandmother embrace her inner calm so she can leave without any remorse?”

ㅤLeave…

ㅤYes, you knew that was a possibility, an inevitability even, but even so, hearing that word being uttered so automatically by Ranpo, without any emotion or attachment, made you nervous, restless, as if it were something wrong.

ㅤ“I don’t want to…” your eyes began to burn involuntarily, a need to expel all the feelings that corrupted you emerging with Ranpo’s robotic words. “I don’t want to lose her.”

ㅤ“It’s the law of nature.” Always cold. Always impartial. Always inhumane. Did Ranpo have any feelings? Was there something in Ranpo that made him human beyond his body and consciousness? Was he capable of feeling? "We born to die. There is no glory in our lives. Just memories that we hope will be carried by others.”

ㅤ“What if these memories fade?” The first tear fell and you hid a sob. “What if there is no one to take the memories? Have we lived in vain?”

ㅤ“We always live in vain,” Ranpo looked back at the landscape, seeing the bare branches of the trees swaying to the wintry melody of the day. “There is no honor or explanation for our lives.”

ㅤ“Then why do we try? Why are we looking for something? Always something more?”

ㅤ“Because none of us want to accept the fact that we are so insignificant that not even the gods themselves bothered to give us a reason to live.”

ㅤThe second tear fell, your sobs finding a way out of you.

ㅤListening to Ranpo was moving you, the cruel truth of our essence hitting you in the chest like a knife. You already knew all this, you had already repeated these same words to yourself; but there was something about hearing Ranpo's monotonous voice, the way he so nonchalantly explained the obvious to you –you just couldn't take it anymore.

ㅤYears of strong emotions were drawn by the cold wind of the day, leaving you calmly, giving you time to reject the tears that flowed without any haste down your face; but you didn't move, you didn't make any movement. For the first time, and without understanding why, you allowed your feelings to be heard by you; with each tear that ran down your body, with each sob that squeezed your throat, everything seemed less real.

ㅤRanpo looked at you as your sobs became more audible.

ㅤSeeing you distressed, suffocating in your own feelings, Ranpo became static. What was the protocol to follow? What did the rules dictate for situations like these? What could Ranpo do to relieve you of the suffering that consumed you?

ㅤHe couldn't do anything.

ㅤThe rules dictated it.

ㅤNothing.

ㅤJust face you.

ㅤJust seeing you succumb to the negativity that colored your essence.

ㅤSimply nothing.

ㅤNothing more than nothing.

ㅤNothing.

ㅤNothing.

ㅤNothing…

ㅤ“There is no eternity for us.” Ranpo continued his speech, lowering his gaze, focusing on the small wooden space that separated you. “All we can hope is that we are not wasting our time on earth.”

ㅤ“And how do we know that?”

ㅤYou looked at Ranpo, eyes red with shame and sadness, lips wet from the tears you couldn't control, heart beating harder and harder.

ㅤ“We don’t know… We will never know.”

ㅤAnd, almost immediately, all reality stabilized at that moment.

ㅤFollowing Ranpo's words, the agent extended his arm, wrapping you in an awkward embrace, pulling you towards him. You hid your face in Ranpo's chest as if by instinct, dyeing the agent's brown coat with your pain and nervousness. Ranpo, in turn, stared into space, reviewing all the rules and protocols that existed in his agency, his hand gently squeezing your arm.

ㅤHe could do something.

ㅤThe rules could be changed.

ㅤSomething.

ㅤJust a hug.

ㅤJust a hug to appease your essence.

ㅤSimply a hug.

ㅤNothing more than a hug.

ㅤJust a hug.

ㅤA hug.

ㅤA hug…

 ੈ♡˳───── feedback is appreciated ♡ ─────

#;us the happiless; #ranpo x reader #ranpo x you #ranpo x yn #ranpo x y/n #ranpo angst #ranpo fluff #ranpo imagines #ranpo drabbles #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader

[chuuyanakaharalegalwife]

Baker's Secret (Rin x Reader)

I wanna cuddle up this cute baby and just pepper his face with kisses because he deserves all the love.

Anygays, Happy Pride Month Gay People. "Are you gay? I am" - Chrissy

In which we bake him cookies because I love him and I love baking and I love cookies. I wrote this throughout my zoom class.

Bye now - Mars ♡

Rin sat staring at the screen carefully analyzing the players and their unique skills. He was truly dedicated to soccer and as his girlfriend you 100% supported him but he seriously was going to get it if he didn’t stop. Today was his day off, which meant he was to rest. To rest! Not be focused on men kicking balls around.

You had been couped up in the kitchen decorating cookies and wallowing in your emotions, because you felt like you were going to explode if you kept sitting next to him whilst he ignored you and watched his game.

Finishing up on your cookies you plated them and stared at them with a pout. Cookies were your peace offering after you started an argument with your boyfriend about the same thing he was currently doing.

Approaching him in the living room, you sat down and rested your head against his bicep and offered him a cookie by basically shoving the plate in front of his face.

“I baked” You stated and avoided his gaze by looking at the game and nibbling on your cookie. You could sense his gaze on you. His very intimidating and intense gaze. Damn him!

Taking a cookie from the plate he mumbled a quick ‘Thanks’ before biting into it, “this is good” he states matter-of-factly and sighs in content.

“Yes well obviously I made them” you half joked, you were pretty confident in your baking skills. As a chronic stress baker you had a lot of experience. It was like therapy but less expensive and yummy.

“You actually made these?” He looked at the cookie in his hand and inspected it. “Hm” the smile on his face barely visible.

You placed your hand dramatically over your heart and gasps, “Are you doubting my talents? Offended” giving him a look of betrayal to which he only rolled his eyes.

“Your talent is amazing” He moves closer taking the plate from your hand and placing it down on the table. “Did you use a special recipe?” he is but a mere inch away from your face. Your very very flushed face.

“A witch doesn’t share her spells nor does a baker” You state as your eyes flicker down to his lips and back up to his eyes. “Rin” you called out to him even though he was right in front of you.

“Yes” he stares at you intently. It felt so intimate, and you wanted to cover your face and run away.

“Today was supposed to be your rest day” you state, the fact he wasn’t resting still clearly bothering you and you knew bringing it up again was going to cause an argument, but you couldn’t help it.

“That again?” He sighed tiredly “Yes that again!”

“I’m almost finish and then you can have me for the rest of the day”

“Fine” you rolled your eyes and he chuckled at the action. He inches closer to you until your lips are touching and you close your eyes. It’s an automatic reaction and as you wait, the kisses never came.

“You’re as sweet as the cookies you bake y’know?” he smiles and when you open your eyes to look at him, he kisses you, mumbling “The sweetest”

“Ew cringe” you kiss him back and hold his jaw pulling his face and, ultimately his body, closer to you.

“Am I the one baking cookies for my lover?” he whips back whilst smiling against your lips.

“My method is less cringe though”

“Maybe” He kisses you again and your stomach does a little dance, and you feel like your body will explode from the intense feeling of bliss. How can one person make you feel like this was unknown knowledge.

“Still the sweetest” Rin mumbles against your lips, his pretty teal eyes looking into yours and he swears his heart feels too big for his body.

“I taste sweet too” winking at him and giggling at his flustered face as you watch the light shade of red covers his face.

“Shut up” he wrinkles up his nose and smiles as he looks back towards the screen watching the game. “I’ll be the judge of that” He grabs your hand and yanks you onto his lap.

The action caught you off guard so you just stared at him with wide eyes and your brain tries to catch up and your rapidly beating heart tries to calm down.

“Cat got your tongue, cookie?”

“I hate you” you leaned in and kissed him. That was the furthest thing from the truth. You loved him. You knew it and he knew it and everyone around you knew it. Even your mother, in another country, knew it!

#marswrites #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi blue lock #blue lock #bllk #bllk rin itoshi #underlashesjunior #fluff #softrinitoshi #softrin #food #baking #cookies

[yoosungisbabie]

you fill the space - day six

@juminweek2019

jumin x mc

rating: T

prompt: physical touch

warnings: spoilers for day 9 of Jumin's route♡

word count: 2,098

ao3 link

“I don’t want to let go.” She pressed her lips together, nodding quickly. “That’s perfectly fine. Can I…suggest something?” she tried, feeling slightly apprehensive when he was quiet for a long moment. “Go ahead,” he finally said, and she smiled, looking past her hands back towards his bedroom. “If we move this to the bed, would—” She paused, feeling her skin heat up from head to toe as she heard him stop breathing.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

She breathed in slowly, opening her eyes a bit and remembering where she was. She stretched, turning to look at the time on Jumin’s alarm clock. It was barely past 3 in the morning, and the rest she’d gotten so far had only left her feeling more drowsy. She pulled the covers off her lower half, stepping onto the cold floor and shivering just a little. Wrapping her arms around herself, she moved out of the room towards the light coming from the living area.

Jumin was sat on the couch, staring past the glass of wine in his hands as he swirled it. His eyebrows were set low on his forehead, his jaw stiff and clenched as he twisted himself in his own tangled thoughts. She sighed worriedly, wishing more than anything that she could make Elizabeth appear right in front of him. But even that wouldn’t alleviate his worries completely.

Jumin looked up suddenly, his face softening slightly as he quickly put his glass down.

“You’re still awake? Is something uncomfortable?” he asked, standing to meet her as she took a few steps in his direction. She shook her head, smiling lightly as she looked him up and down. “It’s not even nearly morning yet. Is the bed uncomfortable?” Shaking her head again, she chuckled tiredly.

“Not at all, Jumin. What are you doing up?” she asked in reply, watching as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I was observing you sleep for some time. You can’t know how wonderful it is to hear you breathe when you’re sleeping,” he began, making her smile lightly. She couldn’t imagine being in his shoes, losing someone so important to you just as you find someone who becomes just as important. She wouldn’t be able to feel any less troubled about them leaving.

“When the moonlight hits your hair, all that anxiety that’s been torturing me throughout the day magically disappears. And for a while, tranquil and beautiful peace persists. But…once the sun comes up and you start your day, I’ll be anxious again. Anxious thoughts of you leaving…of someone making you leave…” She took a step closer, shaking her head.

“I told you I would stay until you figured everything out,” she said gently, watching him nod but look unconvinced as his gaze wandered to the side. “It’s only the party planning that concerns me.” He clenched his jaw, sighing out quickly.

“I know,” he breathed. She saw how tense he was, wondering how much pain it was causing him to be rigid with worry for so long. Glancing down, she saw his hands tightly gripping his arms, and she reached out instinctively, removing his left hand from his right arm. She held it in her own for a moment, and then she began to gently massage it, trying to work out some of the tension as he stared at her.

“Right now, nothing can hurt you or me,” she reminded him, seeing his eyes focused entirely on her. “You should rest. Your body and mind deserve it,” she continued, turning his hand over and continuing to rub circles into his palm gently.

“I wish I could,” he said lowly, clearing his throat afterward. “That way, my mind would have more strength to…resist,” he finished, and she met his eyes, seeing the dark grey of his irises almost burning as he looked at her. Her stomach twisted, and her mind wouldn’t produce words for a long moment.

“I’m not trying to…tempt you, Jumin,” she replied, her hands pausing against his as she held them in midair.

“You don’t have to try,” he said simply, his own words making his eyebrows twist in guilt. She let go of his hand, not anticipating or intending the situation to head in this direction.

About to explain herself, she took a breath as his hands moved to her waist, and he stepped impossibly closer. He was leaning over her, his eyes taking in the features of her face before his gaze paused on her lips. She was sure her heart would beat out of her chest, but she was at a loss for words, remembering their kiss from yesterday morning and unable to forget how he’d caged her against the wall the previous night.

Just before their lips brushed, Jumin closed his eyes tightly, turning his head and pulling her into his chest instead. Her eyes were wide with surprise, her arms at her side as he wound his arms further around her in a tight hug.

Taking a shallow, shaky breath, she moved to hug him, lifting her arms over his shoulders and linking them behind his head loosely. She thought the reciprocation would have eased him even slightly, but his shoulders were still tensed, his breathing short and quick.

“Jumin, are you alright?” she whispered, closing her eyes to try and focus on helping him.

“I’m trying to control myself,” he replied, his voice strained and guttural. She took another breath, trying to relax her body as an example for him to follow.

“Is this okay?” she wondered, feeling his hands clench into fists against the fabric of her pajamas.

“I don’t want to let go.” She pressed her lips together, nodding quickly.

“That’s perfectly fine. Can I…suggest something?” she tried, feeling slightly apprehensive when he was quiet for a long moment.

“Go ahead,” he finally said, and she smiled, looking past her hands back towards his bedroom.

“If we move this to the bed, would—” She paused, feeling her skin heat up from head to toe as she heard him stop breathing.

“Um, not like that, uh,” she amended, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to think more carefully.

“I just mean, I think it would be better if you were able to lie down and relax,” she got out, speaking slowly and softly. He resumed breathing, releasing his fists and clenching them once again.

“I trust you, but I don’t know if I can trust myself right now,” he said, just above a whisper. She nodded slightly, getting her breathing back to normal.

“I trust you, Jumin. You said yourself that you don’t want to disrupt the…order of things,” she reminded him, feeling him turn his face into her hair slightly.

“I still feel that way,” he agreed.

“Okay, let’s focus on that,” she suggested, testing how he would respond if she tried to move away. She unlinked her arms, using her feet to push herself back and meet his eyes again. He looked helpless, gazing at her for guidance as she smiled and pulled back further. His hands had unfurled, running along her waist as she stepped only a pace away from him.

“Have you ever cuddled with anyone before?” she asked quietly, seeing him want to fidget as he held and broke her gaze multiple times.

“I’ve never been in a physical relationship of that caliber,” he replied, making her smile at how eloquent he was being as if he wasn’t seconds from falling apart.

“That’s okay, I was just wondering,” she nodded, taking her hands from his shoulders and grabbing his hands that had been lingering on her waist. She held them gently before keeping just one in her own and taking a step to move past him. She led him towards his room, watching her feet so she didn’t stumble as the darkness grew.

“Because of that, I think it would help if you could…explain…what you’ll be doing,” he said hesitantly, his voice getting quieter as he spoke. She nodded, adjusting her approach to the situation as they stepped through his bedroom door.

“I can do that. Thank you for telling me,” she said as they neared the foot of the bed and her eyes adjusted to the low light.

“I’m going to have you lie down on your side, facing the window, okay?” she started, watching him nod to himself and climb onto the bed. He stiffly laid down, his arms slightly out in front of himself as he looked at her warily.

“Perfect, and now I’m–”

“Would you also be able to explain the purpose of this?” he interjected, pressing his lips together. She tilted her head, ignoring the immediate answer that was her selfish desire to be close to him and make him feel alright.

“Well, being physically close to, or cuddling, with others releases hormones that make people feel…good, and it can help relieve stress, anxiety, and depression,” she responded, gesturing nervously with her hands as he watched. Clearing his throat, he shifted on the bed slightly, raising an eyebrow.

“Since I’ve never engaged in it, I suppose I can’t say whether or not that statement is true until I have tried it,” he thought aloud, making her smile and shed some of her hesitations.

“I agree.” She placed a knee on the bed, pulling herself up onto it and making his eyes widen. Faltering, she opened her mouth quickly, laughing tensely.

“I’m sorry, um,” she breathed, shaking her head a little. “Now I’m going to lie down in front of you, facing you, and I’ll be close, okay?” she explained, waiting for him to nod before she continued, moving slowly and predictably as she lowered herself on her side in front of him. He studied her every move, making her heartbeat ring in her ears as she finally settled.

“And now, you can hug me like you were before,” she said, trying to speak at a quiet volume but falling into a whisper. He looked between both of her eyes, looking worried and almost scared.

“Don’t worry,” she smiled, ignoring the way her hands had begun to shake. “This much is okay, Jumin.” He mulled it over for a moment before he lifted an arm over her, resting his hand on the small of her back. She watched his expression quietly, lifting her head when he began to move his other arm so that he could wind it behind her. His hand gripped her shoulder, and she let him pull her close enough that she could no longer meet his eyes, her head dipping below his chin.

She took a deep breath, holding her hands to her chest as she waited for him to get comfortable. His breathing was fast, and she could feel the pulse of his heart through the hand on her shoulder.

“Jumin,” she called softly, but he must not have heard her, still as rigid as ever. “Is it okay if I touch you as well?” she asked, getting his attention as both his hands twitched.

“Yes,” he whispered in her ear, making her stomach flip as she moved a hand forward. She pressed it on his upper chest, her fingertips able to feel his clavicle beneath his shirt and the way his heart was racing. She waited just a moment before slowly moving her hand back and forth, rubbing small, soothing circles into his skin and willing him to relax underneath her.

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply in and out so that he could match it, his heart rate slowing slightly as he listened to her and focused on her touch.

“Can I touch your head?” she whispered, hearing his breath hitch briefly.

“Yes,” he replied again, his affirmation a soft breath against her ear. She blinked, biting her tongue as she used her other hand to reach up and smooth out the hair on the back of his head. His breathing accelerated again, and she hesitated, trying a hand through his hair instead. He grunted in surprise, the noise a groggy, deep sound.

She ran another hand through his hair when he didn’t say anything, unable to help the smile that stretched onto her lips when he pulled her closer. So she continued, wondering in the back of her mind what he used to make his hair so soft.

It was many minutes before his breathing began to even out, his hands slightly loosening around her as he got more comfortable.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jumin. I promise,” she whispered, barely able to hear herself say the words. He hummed lightly, almost in a sigh. She smiled to herself, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

She lost track of time as she lay there in his arms, her eyes closing naturally as she felt him go limp against her. Wishing him a restful sleep, she stilled herself, pressing a gentle kiss to his arm that was acting as her pillow as she too, drifted off to sleep.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

thank you all so much for reading!!! I hope you enjoyed even one sentence that I was able to share with you, and I can't thank you enough for all the support you've given. I haven't written like this in almost three years, and it feels so good to be back.

stay tuned for more from me! I think I'm going to participate in a few of the MysticTober prompts for this year! thanks again <3

Mel xx

#jumin #my writing #juminweek2023 #jumin week 2023 #jujuw23 #jujuw23d6 #i cant believe its over #physical touch #love languages #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfic #mystic messenger fanfiction #mysme #mysme fanfic #mysme fanfiction

[puppypawprintce]

1740 words - gen

2/?

snily friendship, nightmares, severus loving potions class, angst

cw: self loathing

ao3 link if you'd prefer ♡

One, two, three, four - four ounces of Moondew, the herbal green fluid joining its brethren of finely pulverized Unicorn Horn, Syrup of Hellebore, and Stewed Mandrake. The greenish blue substance simmers in the cauldron. Severus couldn't be more focused if he tried, his careful hand stirs its contents while slowly adding in 12 ounces of Honeywater. It beginning to shift to a much warmer shade of amber. The sweat beads by his brow and the steam emanating makes his skin feel false, like wax paper, disgusting.

There are an abysmal amount of ways to screw up an elixir, and he'll be damned if any of the infinite creep up on him today.

When he woke up this morning he'd been excited-an immensely rare sight for the student-to work on his potion of anti-paralysis. Something about it all intrigued him, and he knew he'd wanna pocket some bottles for safe keeping.

Professor Slughorn had begun giving him heads up on what his class had in store, often lending extra books and indulging in the boy's curiosity.

"You could be a great Potions master one day you know." And Severus had known, being one of the only people to carry around tiny bottles of his own creation was somewhat of an ego booster. All the more fun in Herbology and all the more easy to take care of himself.

Maybe just 4 this time.

Other students in the room seem bored, not meeting much a reason to be brewing such a potion in the first place. It must be nice to walk in for the grade alone; Severus finishes pouring his honey-like antidote and runs his fingers through his hair. Everything always feels so sticky around cauldrons, his wrists hurt.

"Okay everyone, clean up for today." Slughorn's voice flits past Severus' ears, crackly and friendly as ever. "Keep this recipe in your repertoire.. Never know when Petrificus Totalus may sneak up on you."

What an understatement. Severus wouldn't be leaving Slytherin Dungeon on Sunday unless absolutely necessary, He wrings his hands and envisions a peaceful evening ahead of him, Saturdays bringing a sense of calm. It's just a trek back to his room and he can finally fall to his pillow and take a nap.

"Hey Sev." Lily's velvet voice acts as an invisible wall he walks into. Her eyes meet his as he takes a second to really catch up in his mind, and Lily's hands fall on his shoulders like knocking over old books. She just barely exceeds him in height, her freckles highlighted by the scattered warmth in her cheeks. "You look exhausted! Did you sleep at all?"

"I slept." He answers, voice croaking like he hadn't been awake the past hour. "Not enough though. I've been planning a long nap all day."

The arms of a warm floral cinnamon hold him tight and it's oh–so familiar. Everytime Lily hugs him, Severus doesn't quite know what to do. Does he hold her back? Would it be embarrassing for her if his hands grazed her hair and does she ever stop to think that it may ruin her reputation to be seen with whatever he is—so close to her lungs and– Why can't he just live in the moment? She always sees right through him in a way that no one else does. Perhaps it's because they've known each other for so long.. Perhaps he's just not the best at hiding his shadow. It's so easy to know a terrible person when Heaven on Earth stands directly next to you.

"I've been having some nightmares. Not too many, but some." His shoulders stay tense. There's never enough time with her, even if he were capable of simply standing here with more confidence he'd still have that voice in the back of his head screaming into the canal that connects his ear and up to his eyes and through every vein that reaches his brain. Spilling acid of it's disgusting to be seen and you ruin everything you touch. It's a shame really, his work in class shows otherwise. Good wizard, bad person. Nothing can change that.

She squeezes him ever so slightly, her fingers going to pet his hair before she brings him back to an arms length apart. There's a face of worry; he hates when she looks at him like that.

"I'm sorry." It's not fair, sleeping is supposed to be a time to rest. The one time when nothing else matters except just laying there unmoving, and trying not to go crazy when the loneliness veers its ugly claws. "Mind if i ask what about?"

Severus shakes his head. It's not like he has to hide this sort of stuff from her.

"It's just mum. She's much busier now, I never know when I'll see her. If it's for one month or one minute." Chest rising and falling, he doesn't expect to feel his throat tighten. He only cries when he's tired. "Sorry I need to go."

"Naptime?"

Please take care of yourself.

He nods and whispers a quiet "see you later" before quickly finding his way around the Hogwarts corridors. It always feels empty when he runs away from her, and whenever she says goodbye. He's always hoping for something better to come up, but he knows it's not logical to think that way. To wish and wish for anything to become perfect, for his life to grow into something he's not and will never be, for things to be different.

Reaching the common room, Severus doesn't say a word to anyone. He heads straight past leather sofas and flickering lamps, through the diamond-shaped door. He lands in the carpet of his room and the way his body hits his mattress feels like a rolling pin grading on his bones 10 times over. He'd exerted himself today, and it hadn't even been a full day's worth of classes.

Counting to 112, his hands grip the 2 layers of blanket he's buried himself in and the world around fades to a depressing gray, warm but far from inviting. Sometimes he wishes for a cat to accompany him with soft paws and a gentle purr.

Other times he just wants to stay asleep 'til Christmas comes.

______

Waves and waves of saltwater fight to pull him under, stinging his eyes and blocking his breath but he can't let them win. It's not a choice, but a responsibility, his long sleeves make it exceedingly hard to move and when he reaches this small puppy in front of him he's counting to 100 hoping they'll reach the shoreline before his lungs and limbs give out. She's shaking, and all he can do is wonder where his mother is.

Eileen had been in the water too, the fury of nature's pool hoisting uncertainty in every direction. Severus looks around, running past several people he can't recognize and it's starting to frighten him. Where'd she go? Is the beating heart he's carrying in his arms meant to be here? It's all a haze, a dreary haze.

They're all suddenly together, Severus ripping the paper wrapper off his straw and their waitress brings in a rack of many books. Eileen doesn't seem to even see Severus, she chatters and laughs but doesn't quite look at him, his brain hammers and drills and he just wants her to say 'I've missed you.'

You don't want to be here do you?

It hurts, hurts more than the water pulling him under and the times he's fallen down the stairs when wanting to skip out on Church and she still won't look at him. It's only when they're in his room and he runs into her arms that her voice is aimed directly at him, the small form she can barely hold on to.

"Why do you wish to be around me when I've been so wrong?"

Severus can't stop crying.

"I miss you. It doesn't matter what you've done, I still miss you."

This hug feels like he's fallen into their burning fireplace in the dead of Winter. He knows she's slipping away. She's always slipping away.

"I can't.."

His head pounds. The feeling of chills play through his shoulders and up his neck, it's a wonder that he's still submerged in fabric of green and silver. He can feel his eyes straining with remnants of salt when he opens them and it's only a little shocking when a rough palm collides with his forehead.

"You haven't got a fever, at least I don't think.."

Regulus has no sense of personal space.

"I'm not sick," Severus responds in such a way, he doesn't know if it's even audible. "Head.. hurts."

As if he were struck by lightning Regulus flings his entire arm back to then hang by his waist, presumably what he'd be doing if he hadn't gone to check Sev's temp status. His place next to his roommate's bed is awkward, and Severus is too wracked with leftover pain and confusion to care.

"Is it 7 already?"

"Nuh uh. Still 5:30." Regulus checks his wrist as if he remembered to bring his watch to school this term.

"More sleep."

And then Severus is out again, the tension in his forehead fading once he's breathing steadily and Regulus can't help but stare for longer than any normal person would. Disgust rises in himself because he doesn't feel like he should bear witness - he sighs out with thoughts racing. It'd be so easy to tease him for everything, but easy isn't what he's about. It's not like he's out to start wars. Only out to finish them.

Everburning candles lead the way out of the room in their spot on the small coffee table, almost like a glowing sign pointing him out. No one else is in here, though that shouldn't surprise him. Leave it to Severus to be the only Slytherin avoiding everyone else like the plague.

Once he can't justify standing around any longer, Regulus picks up a small book from under his bed and snakes his way back out from whence he came. A grimace forms on his face when the door has the audacity to screech and his head whips back to make sure it hadn't been a disturbance. Pangs of empathy, it's not something he knows yet. But maybe one day it'll make sense. And maybe someday it won't feel weird, weird that he stared with not much reason.

He's gotta write this all down.

#severus snape #young severus #pro snape #hp fandom #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #lily evans #snily friendship #regulus black #sev has nightmares and sleep issues #esi writing!

[lovelyfoolish]

you have occupied my mind

nate x f!detective (yael greene) / 1.5K/ M

⇢ summary: fate and pancakes.

⇢ notes: a thank you for @serenpedac for all you did for @wayhavensecretsanta ♡ i don't know if you had to sacrifice your own surprise to run the event, but in case you did, here's a different one.

🥞 ‎

set the mood

🍋 ‎

When he holds out the lemon, examining it with those shrewd, dark eyes of his, it looks as though he’s plucked a bright yellow, dimpled sun from the sky, just for her. 

It feels like the ribbons of smoke from the fireworks have remained like the champagne glasses on the counter, distorting the edges of the clouds, but perhaps she just hasn’t woken up entirely yet. This could be a dream, anyway — Nathaniel Sewell in her — their — kitchen, making pancakes, on the first morning of a new year. Like a ritual.

The air is crisp and cold and crackling with an indescribable energy, and everything is hazy, but he is so clear, silhouetted by the window, humming to himself as he rinses the fruit, careful hands cutting the tops from the strawberries and leaves them in one of her painted-flower bowls, a gentle smile that must not be conscious on his lips. Yael always sees him smiling like that in her dreams, when everything has ended, and they are at peace.

But — there’s a stray eyelash on his cheek. 

No one in a dream ever has an eyelash on their cheek.

He is subtly and ever so slightly dishevelled, a strand of hair (looping in on itself, dark and long and so obviously hers) on the shoulder of his jumper with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing Nate’s forearms and the lines of vein that criss-cross them.

It must be from earlier. Another all-too-brief moment that she could have dreamed of instead of living. When she lay on his chest with her eyes closed as he read that book with yellow-tinged and water-warped pages that she swears he’s been reading for a month, her still half-asleep and wearing their fallen snow-white duvet and the late morning light, clinging to him like velvet on the antler of a buck. 

 “You’re thinking about something,” Nate says from in front of the fridge, an adoring accusation, head cocked as he looks back at her, still smiling, “What’s on your mind, Yael joonam?” He comes closer, until he places his palms on the island and lowers his head, leaning forward to meet her, their faces so close that she swears she can feel it when he grins, “Am I distracting you right now? Do you want me to distract you?”

She wants something else from him. A kiss like a cocoon, to wrap herself up in. A kiss like a lightning strike, leaving streaks of light where his lips met her skin. A kiss like plunging into cold water on New Year’s Day, awake and alive, hurting headfirst into a new year.

Yael touches his cheek with the backs of her fingers. “I was thinking that I was still dreaming,” she says, serious. “That I’ve dreamed about you smiling like that before.”

“I suppose that makes me your dream man,” Nate says, standing up straight again and catching her hand before it drops, lightly kissing her knuckles. He dusts kisses over the rest of her fingers, and the back of her hand, and the inside of her wrist, looking at her with that gaze she’d describe as apocalyptic — when he looks at her like that, the world ceases to exist. There is only him. 

“No,” she says, laughing when his lips brush against the inside of her elbow, tickling her, “I don’t think I could have ever dreamed I’d love someone like you.” 

He left a mark on her shoulder last night, well after midnight, champagne on their tongues, fingers tangled in her curls as he lifted them to kiss her bare skin. He’s getting closer and closer to it, pulling her from her chair and into his arms, wrapped around her waist. 

“Yael,” he murmurs, “Do you believe that this was fate?”

She closes her eyes for a long moment, contemplating his question. When she opens them again, they’re swaying, and Nate holds his arm out, coaxing her into a spin. How many thousands of times have they danced together in this room, tracing the same steps over and over again, closer and closer each time? Could that have been fate? She doesn’t know if she can wrap her head around the idea that love is anything less than purposeful.

“There was this girl,” Yael says, palms on his chest, “When I was little. We were the same age. She attended a class I did. Maybe a painting class. Something to do with art. I liked her. She was nice. I would have called her a friend, if you had asked me then. But we didn’t see each other outside of that. We went home and went our separate ways. After the class ended, I thought I’d never see her again. I didn’t think of her. I’m sure she never thought of me. Just one of those people that is in your life briefly and then is gone again. I knew that already.” 

‘Even so young’ hangs in the space between them before Nate presses closer to her, closing the gap between them.

How she loves the way he watches her when she talks to him, his focus entirely on her. Perhaps he too thinks of these moments as the end of the rest of the world.

“A few years later — maybe a decade — we were older by then, teenagers — I met her again. She was getting on the same train as me. In another city. Not here. I’d only ever seen her here, but maybe she was from somewhere else. I think we both thought it was a strange coincidence, but it was nice to see her again. We talked for a little bit, caught up on each other’s lives, and said goodbye again. I didn’t give her my number or anything like that. I thought again — and I remember this so distinctly — that I’d never see her again. Especially because she said she was moving. Not just to the city. Across the ocean. Her parents were moving and she was going with them. I’m sure I thought ‘that was interesting, I’m glad she’s well’ and thought nothing further of her after that.”

When Nate lifts her onto the counter, next to the bowl of batter, ending their dance, she wraps her legs around him, holding him in place for a moment. 

“But you saw her again,” he says, eyes wide. 

“Of course,” Yael says, and her smile feels tight at the corners. She doesn’t find this sad. She’s never found this sad. She doesn’t know why she feels sad. Perhaps it’s because — now she’s imagining Nate in her place. “But — we didn’t meet in Wayhaven. Or in the city. Or the place she moved. We met when I was travelling, a few years ago. Across a different ocean. She was in a crowd I was in. I didn’t say anything to her. Our eyes met, but — I think we both knew that we weren’t going to ever have anything more than those brief moments. Sometimes I feel like I should have spoken to her then. That maybe we were supposed to be friends, or something else, even more than that, that something beyond our comprehension or control was pushing us together.”

“Fate,” Nate says, voice low.

“Fate,” she agrees, “But not the kind people think of. Ours was to be acquaintances, over and over again. We never became close. Or even just — the kind of friends who spend time together. I never had her number. I never knew what her favourite colour was. Or what she likes to eat on top of pancakes.” 

“Berries and cream,” he says, “Surely. Or lemon and sugar, like you.” 

“Maybe,” she says, “But maybe she doesn’t like pancakes at all.”

That look on his face might be awe.

“Maybe — if that was fate — you and I would have ended up meeting the same one. Paths crossing, over and over again, too stubborn to choose each other. I would see you from across rooms and train platforms and think how handsome you were, or that I missed seeing your face in the reflection of the windows. But I never would have spoken to you about anything more than a seat, or an exhibit.”

“I would have taken matters into my own hands if I had to see you standing by yourself more than once,” Nate says slyly, the corner of his mouth lifting, and his kiss is sweet as the lemon and sugar she adores.

She laughs against his lips, arms wrapped around his neck, hugging him close to her, unwilling to let him go until she has to. “I know you would have. But — would that be fate, or an intervention?”

For a long moment, he is quiet as he turns the stove on, still brushing against her, the kitchen suddenly warm, and anything he could say would be lost under the sound of butter sizzling in the pan. 

“You should, at least, know that I would love you from the moment I first spoke to you,” he says.

Her voice catches in her throat.

“So,” Nate says, smile back on his lips, “What else do I do in your dreams, shefele?”

🫐 ‎

i thought about writing something more angsty for you - a supplement to that conversation between yael and nate, where they say goodbye, because i loved the roots you uncovered so much - but for new year's breakfast my dad makes pancakes.

one of the most precious memories i have of my childhood was saturday morning pancakes. my dad would make two little round ears and call them mickey mouse pancakes. we'd make a tiny one with extra batter for my doll.

my flatmate made heart shaped pancakes for us once and i see the picture whenever i scroll through my archive on instagram. (she introduced me to lemon and sugar.)

i texted someone that i wanted to eat pancakes with them as a way of saying "i love you".

so. pancakes was the only thing it could be ♡

yael's story about a childhood friend who showed up in the strangest of places but she never became close to is one of my own - my childhood friend and i took piano lessons together as children, then met five years later in a biology classroom as teenagers across the city (when she abruptly moved to italy), and five years after that met as young adults across the ocean from our hometown.

i wonder about the next place i'll see her.

i hope this all makes sense with how you conceive of nate and yael, and thank you again for being so lovely to all of us ♡

i always feel bad giving words as gifts since i worry about creating a sense of obligation, so please don't worry about engaging!

#[waluigi wah] #didn't have your sheet and couldn't ask around about it so just read yael content again :) #hopefully she can still be recognisable through my eyes :) #v important to do justice to a fellow curly haired queen #twc #nate sewell #stealing from gomez addams a wee bit #couldn't resist