#Elijah did a lot of bad things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonchildstyles · 3 months

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have you thought about revisiting that anon concept about asterry and his girlfriend watching p*rn? I'm asking for a friend hehe

wordcount: 9.8k+

—————

(Y/N) blinked, staying silent as she took in the conversation around her. This was definitely not the avenue she saw the night taking when Charlotte had opened the second bottle of wine between the few of them.

"I asked him if he still watched it a lot, like as much as he did before we started dating, but he wouldn't really say no," Emily shared before taking a pull from her wine glass, "He didn't say yes, but all he said was that its different now, don't worry. What is that even supposed to mean? Like, do you watch porn when I go to sleep, yes or no?"

Charlotte and Sarah both laughed, joining Emily as she smiled around the rim of her wine glass. (Y/N) wanted to laugh along, but she was honestly still a bit thrown off by the topic.

Truthfully, she didn't know really much about anything that had to do with... pornography. The closest she had were the scenes some of her romantic novels had, and movies that had her adverting her eyes.

Not only was the act of sex demonized growing up—especially before marriage—but anything else that had to do with it. There was no way she was going to risk doing any of her own research should her parents' close monitoring catch even a stray google search.

After getting out from under their thumb, she didn't have much desire to go looking on that corner of the internet—she had done fine enough up to this point, she figured. Then, of course, she met Harry and there really seemed to be no need for any kind of video when she had him in the flesh.

(Y/N) honestly wondered if she had ever even spoken the word porn aloud, let alone discussed it with anyone else. This conversation was especially jarring given all of the giggling and the unfiltered language.

"Em," Charlotte piped up, bringing her wine glass to her mouth to cover the wry grin growing on her face, "Have you ever tried watching it with him, though?"

Feeling her cheeks warming, (Y/N) practically sunk into her skin as if to hide from the conversation. Sarah had mimicked her surprise some, though she was decidedly less shocked into silence.

"Charlotte!" Sarah bubbled, dark brows raised, "Is that what you do?"

Another peal of laughter came from the wine-soaked group, though (Y/N)'s reaction was more to fit in with the theatrics. (When it came to topics like these, she didn't want to be quiet even if she wasn't necessarily talkative—being too silent left people wondering if she was uninterested, judging them, and invited questions she wasn't looking to answer).

She had always figured the viewing of those kinds of videos to be something that was done alone. She couldn't fathom anyone joining in and watching alongside what should be a particularly intimate moment. (Besides, if you had someone to watch them with, why watch them at all when you could be with that person?).

Charlotte hesitated for a moment, opening her mouth before closing it. Emily nudged her at her side, a mischievous smile on her face.

"C'mon, spit it out."

Finally, Charlotte threw her hands up in surrender. "It's honestly not that bad, and I think you should try it."

"So, you have done it!" Sarah called, bouncing in her spot on the couch, "With Elijah or?"

"With Elijah, yeah," she settled, the wine getting to her tongue as she didn't mind sharing more details, "I walked in on him one time, and I wanted to be grossed out, but I just wasn't. It ended up working out, and now it's just a thing sometimes."

Charlotte's ending shrug before taking down a gulp of wine showed the end of her story, though Emily still nudged her as if there was more she could shake out.

"I don't know if I could do that," Sarah admitted, crossing her legs underneath herself, "I think it would annoy me too much, that Mitch was watching a video like that when he could have just called me or something."

(Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth as the conversation then changed, some debate on if videos like that were allowed in relationships.

She didn't know what she would do if she walked in on Harry watching something like that. While she couldn't really deny that she enjoyed the sight of him playing with himself (something she's shyly learned every time Harry passed his fist over himself before sinking into one of her holes), she wasn't sure what she would think about the inspiration behind the act. There was a part of her that would be offended, she thought, that she was right there and he picked a video over the real thing. Another part of her understood that maybe he wouldn't want to have sex right then, instead opting to take care of himself before moving on. Besides, it wasn't like he had photos of her to look at in the heat of the moment, so she figured she would have to understand.

There was no use in being jealous of girls in movies anyway. Even if it did kind of hurt her stomach thinking about Harry reacting to them the same way he did to her.

Around her the conversation had floated elsewhere leaving behind the illicit subject matter for something lighter (a movie Emily had gone to the theater to hate watch only to end up liking it some, and now she was questioning her taste level). She was able to plug into this one much better, that much was evident in the way Sarah had quit giving her small glances as if she knew that (Y/N)'s comfort was twisting.

Despite now adding her own takes to the conversation and actively engaging outside of a few well placed laughs and head nods, the back of her mind was lagging behind.

There were questions rattling around that she was sure she wasn't going to be able to keep completely under wraps the next time she saw Harry.

—————

(Y/N) watched as Harry climbed into bed beside her, comforter pulled up to her chin as she sunk into the warm mattress. He gave her a lopsided smile when he caught her following gaze, her skin warming as she averted her eyes.

Cuddling in beside her, Harry pulled her close with an arm around her waist, his ankle hooking around hers. She could feel his eyes on her, but when she didn't immediately match his gaze she heard a plume of laughter fall from him,

"Why won't y'look at me, love?" he smiled, reaching his hand on her waist through the duvet to brush her hair out of her face.

She shyly kept her eyes on the column of his tattooed throat, following the thorny roses. "You caught me."

(Y/N) could feel the fan of his laughter as much as she heard it. His hand settled on her cheek then, his fingertips venturing into the baby hairs bordering her hairline. "Yeah, but y'catch me looking at you all the time," he countered, "Jus' lets me know y'like what y'see."

Using his hand on her cheek, he angled her face towards him once more, forcing her eyes to meet his own. A small smile graced his features, his eyes light with amusement. Tipping his chin just right, he pressed his lips to hers in a delicate kiss.

When he pulled away his smile had grown, dimples now touching his cheeks as he ran the pad of his thumb over the height of her cheekbone. "Did you have fun tonight, baby?"

Their dinner date splashed through her head, along with all of the warm feelings she went through while under the dimmed lights. They swapped bites of food, shared a cocktail (Y/N) really wanted to try but was worried it would be too strong, and Harry pulled out any joke he could in hopes of hearing her bubbling laughter through the restaurant.

Nodding her head against the pillow, her own smile took her features, leaving her cheeks mushed between Harry's hand and the soft of her pillow. "A lot of fun. Thank you for taking me."

His hand slipped down the slope of her form, settling on the sup of her waist before he gave a gentle squeeze. When (Y/N) reacted with a bubble of laughter, Harry's eyes swam with adoration.

"I had fun too, baby," he crooned, "Thank you for coming with me."

With the low lights and the gentle way he spoke to her, (Y/N) felt like she was supposed to be tired. It was kind of her thing, anyway—being sleepy and decidedly ready to pass out whenever. But, that just didn't seem to be the case tonight, her head was too full.

When she had come to his place after class, Harry greeting her at the door, there was a pinging question in the back of her mind that made an abrupt return from the previous night. As much as she wanted to blurt it out, get the curiosity out of the way, it didn't feel entirely appropriate to ask her boyfriend about his porn habits just after walking through the door. That much was made even more apparent given the fact that Mitch greeted her a few minutes later, trekking from his room to the kitchen with a small wave. Then, Harry had told her he had plans to take her out to dinner that night, and there was no way she was asking such a question in the middle of a restaurant.

There was never good time it seemed, to sate her curiosity and learn her own perspective on what her friends had been talking about. No time better than right now, anyway.

She just had to find some kind of courage to go along with the timing.

Shuffling closer, the sheets shifting around them, Harry pressed a small kiss to her forehead, right over a crease she hadn't realized was scrunching the skin. "What's going on in here?" he cooed, "You're thinking too hard before bedtime, love."

"I just—" she bubbled off before stopping her tongue. She swallowed, a pinch appearing between her brows. "There was something... I don't know."

There were no words that felt comfortable in her mouth, nothing that she could feasibly hear herself saying when it came to the questions she had. (Honestly, she couldn't understand how she was able to utter some of the things she did for Harry between the sheets and now shy away over pornography).

His hand on her waist was a stern anchor, the grip just tight enough to remind her that he was there. "'S alright, y'can tell me. What is it?"

Gone was the amusement and the soft teasing he had offered up to her before, instead his voice growing soft and forgiving. Patience now settled in his eyes as he waited on her.

Dropping her own gaze to dance around his features, she distracted herself with the spray of fine freckles on his nose. "The girls last night, they said something that I've just been... thinking about I guess."

The warmth of his gaze traced over her own features. "What was it? It wasn't anything rude, right?"

"No, no, no," (Y/N) rushed out, matching his gaze to show her sincerity. All of those girls were her friends, and Sarah would also never let anything like that happen around her. "It was—I don't know, it feels weird to say it."

Harry's expression relaxed now that he knew he wasn't there to be nursing any wounds. "We've said a lot of weird stuff to one another, baby. I think I can handle it."

She couldn't look him in the eye when she tried to speak again, instead dropping back to the tattooed skin of his neck. Her hands between them reached to take his shirt between her fingers, the faded graphic on the material distracting her just enough.

"They were talking about porn." Her heartbeat sounded in her ears. "With their boyfriends."

There was a pause, though (Y/N) could feel his unwavering eyes on her face.

"Okay," he finally shared, the syllable slow as it dropped from his tongue, "That's what's been on your mind?"

Folding her bottom lip between her teeth, she tried to find the next set of words that made sense. "I-I have questions. I think."

Harry's expression broke into a soft smile she could hear through the delicate huff of laughter he let out. "You think?"

Peeking up at him through her lashes, she saw his eyes bare of liner, the planes of his face relaxed and rounded, and his hair pushed away from his face leaving it all on display. He didn't look at all bothered by her avenue of conversation, leaving him to be the always open book he was for her, willing and ready to answer anything she needed.

"Yeah," she said, settling into her skin some, "I knew what they were talking about, but I don't think I really understand it all. I thought I could ask you, if it wasn't weird."

"Never weird, love," Harry shared, "You know 'm always here to answer anything y'need help with."

(Y/N) blinked, tipping her chin in a short nod. "Okay, but if there's anything you don't want to answer, you don't have to."

"'M sure I can answer ever—"

"Do you watch porn?"

Practically cringing at the sound of her voice wrapped around that question and the fact she spoke it aloud right to Harry, (Y/N) wanted to curl up in hopes of disappearing.

"Sorry," she started, her voice barely a peep, "I didn't mean to cut you off."

Harry looked at her for a lingering moment, his brows raised high over his eyes before he melted some. An amused smile sat on his lips, a small puff of laughter exhaling from his lungs. "'S alright," he offered, his hand on her waist squeezing just enough, "Not what I was expecting, but 's okay.

"To answer your question," he drawled, "No, I don't—not since you, really. No need to when I've got my own pretty star, huh?"

His lips molded into a teasing smile, but lopsided as he pressed forward hoping to catch a small grin from her.

Keeping her shy gaze dropped, (Y/N) couldn't keep her lips from curling. There was a bit of pride from the flattery; he didn't need any videos when he had her instead. She was enough to satisfy him, and that was a nice thought even if it was a bit in the gutter.

Spotting her shy smile, Harry let out a plume of laughter before he dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. Knowing him, he probably already knew what was going on in her head, even if she didn't say it aloud.

"Is that all y'wanted to know, my love?"

Her fingers in his shirt curled just a bit more, as if she were bracing herself for this next string. "One of the girls, she said something about her and her boyfriend... watching it together," (Y/N) prattled, her voice growing smaller the more she went on, "Is that normal?"

Harry lagged in his response, taking his time with his fingers fiddling with a pulsing pattern on her waist. "It can be," he offered, "but, 's not for everyone. I've never really talked about that with anyone, but I would imagine it could make people feel closer—sharing something that's usually only done by yourself."

(Y/N) silently nodded her head, taking in his offered information. Truthfully, she wanted to stall, find another inconsequential question to stall him before she was left with the last curiosity she'd had burning in the back of her head.

The avenue she landed on was barely any less humiliating, but it was easy to fall from her tongue than the other she'd had on deck. She still couldn't meet his eyes as she spoke, bubbling off the question before she could second guess herself.

"Is that something you would want to try? Like, watching it together and all."

Skating his hand over the curves of her form, Harry tipped her chin up. Their eyes matching, (Y/N) could see the way he scanned over her features the way he always did when he was attempting to decipher where she was coming from. The lines of his features were softened, rounding into soft curves and gentling the longer her gazed at her.

"Is that something you want to try?"

Flounder under his pressing, (Y/N) understood what he was going for—she was too shy to explicitly voice all of her wants, so he had to fill in the gaps at times—but was still taken aback none the less. Of course the thought had crossed her mind since the previous night, about what it would be like to sit with Harry and watch a different kind of movie than she usually watched with him, but the idea wasn't exactly the most compelling.

She wasn't sure if she could really handle watching him watch someone else, and potentially become more turned on than he had even been with her. Nonetheless, she had never actually watched any porn herself, and she wasn't sure if she really had any real inclination to change that.

But, there was something to be said about the way Harry had described the act: sharing someone to vulnerable, that is usually kept private, with someone you trust. He had a way of making these scenes sound much more romantic than the semantics did.

"I don't know," she settled on, aware of the intensity in his eyes as he watched her, "I've never really watched anything like that, so I don't think I really understand what that would mean."

Almost imperceptible, (Y/N) was able to catch the way his brows raised just enough. "Really?"

Tipping her head in an almost shrug between the sheets, (Y/N) pursed her lips. "It was one of those things, you know."

That was enough of an explanation to Harry; he knew her growing years and the drilled in obedience that followed her even after leaving home. Despite curiosity, there was no way she would have had the confidence to even make a search, that he knew.

A small curve settled on his lips, patience and understanding sitting in his eyes. "Guess that makes sense then, hm?"

"Just add it to the list," (Y/N) joked back, a small huff of laughter falling from her lips.

His hand on her jawline that he had used to tip her face towards him now angled itself towards the curve of her throat. His palm was warm and agnate over her skin, the pad of his thumb stretching to rest on the hinge of her jaw. "Is it something you want to know more about?"

"Kind of," she answered honestly, sinking into the fluff of the pillow under her head, "But...Really, I think I only care about what y-you like and all of that."

It was one of the harder admissions, (Y/N) feeling as if she were asking a bit too much into his personal thoughts. If he wanted to share that part of himself, he would have already, she figured.

The warmth of his thumb on her cheek expanded as he pet a small trail down to the line of her jaw. "I don't really watch it anymore, love, remember?"

"Yeah, but," she started, resisting the urge to pin her bottom lip between her teeth, "What about before?"

When Harry paused, (Y/N)'s fingers in her shirt pulsed in an anxious curl.

"But, you don't have to answer if you don't want to," she quickly attempted to recover, replaying her words and just how pushy they may have come off.

The amused laughter that fell from his lips was enough to reassure her that she hadn't bothered him too much. "'S alright, baby," he murmured, "I was jus' thinking."

When he didn't immediately offer any extra information, she couldn't help herself—her curiosity was so close to gaining all the answers she needed, she didn't want it to stop now.

"About what?" she mumbled, watching intently as he just kept thinking.

Only one side of his mouth curled upwards, his smile going lopsided. "If I should tell you, or show you."

Now, (Y/N) had no choice but to fall silent around her dry throat. Show her?

Harry let out a small laugh at her reaction, unable to hold himself back before he was pressing a gentle kiss to the bridge of her nose between her wide eyes.

"I take it that I should probably jus' tell you, huh?" he joked, pulling away with a brilliant smile on his lips to match the bright lilypad of his irises.

Swallowing around her dry throat, (Y/N) spoke up, "Y-You could show me. If you think that would be easier."

Though the request itself wasn't made with much confidence, she still was surprised it even made its way out of her mouth. Two birds with one stone, she figured, she'd finally see what it—porn—was all about, and learn something new about Harry.

That was what she was telling herself anyway.

Raising a single brow over his intense gaze, Harry took in her reaction. "We could do that," he mused, "But, I don't want to do that if it would make y'uncomfortable, love. It can be a bit... much, especially if you have nothing to compare it to."

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she allowed her gaze to trace along the line of the single stray curl that rested against his temple. "I think I can handle it," she told him, her voice small as she avoided his eyes.

Shifting his hand on her neck, Harry brought his palm to rest on her cheek. The pad of his thumb ran along the fragile skin under her eyes. "You are brave, aren't you."

"I try," she murmured, shy smile evident in her voice.

She could practically see the gears turning in Harry's head, his eyes flashing with just a glint of something she couldn't name. She was hyper aware of his hand once again gliding over her skin until he was carding his fingers through her hair to rest his palm on the back of her head. She matched her gaze to his bashfully.

"Are you tired, or do y'think y'can stay up a little while longer with me?"

With a flutter of her lashes, and her heart mimicking the act, (Y/N) tugged herself that much closer to him between the sheets.

"I can stay awake." His lips turned into a lopsided smile, a single dimple denting his cheek as he gazed at her. (Y/N) could only tip her chin just so when he surged forward, pressing their lips together in a warming kiss. While it was chaste, there was an urgency behind it that she could feel before he pulled away.

"Lay the other way for me, baby," he instructed with a jerk of his chin, "I need to grab m'phone." When (Y/N) didn't immediately turn to press her back to his chest, Harry lagged, keeping from reaching for his phone on the bedside. "What's wrong, hm?"

"I don't get to see you?" (Y/N) murmured, barely keeping the whine out of her voice. She preferred seeing his eyes over everything else, knowing that it was him that was touching her.

A soft hum of laughter fell from his lips. "'S just gonna be a little bit easier this way, love, that's all. I'll still be right here."

"'Kay," she answered, though she didn't follow his instruction until he pressed another kiss to her puckered lips.

With that, Harry reached to the bedside table where his phone was resting while (Y/N) twisted in the sheets to lay on her side with her back to his chest. The duvet folded, leaving her arm and back exposed to the chill while Harry took longer than a few moments to do whatever it is he was doing on his phone.

She could hear the faint taps of his finger against the screen, scrolling and typing before he eventually curled around her. Harry conformed to the shape of her, his sweatpants-clad legs tangling with her bare ones with his arm hooking around her waist to position his phone before the two of them. He shifted the pillow under his head until she could feel the plume of his breath grazing the column of her throat, warm though it still elicited goosebumps to erupt over her skin.

(Y/N) could feel her heart bubbling in her chest when she dared to peek at what was on his bright screen. Though there was nothing explicit or exposing on the screen, she was sure they weren't too far off with the dark color scheme of the site he had brought up.

"Are you sure, love?" he murmured, his lips close to her ear, "We don't have to do this if y'don't want to. It can be a lot right away, and I don't want to scare you."

Folding her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) allowed his words to roll around her head. She wasn't completely naive—she could imagine what the videos would look like, though she doubted it would look or feel the same as it did when she was underneath Harry. But, his earlier definition still stuck with her: this was a small vulnerability he was sharing with her. This is something he would normally have kept so private, but he was willing to bring her in and share something so different with her.

She could be brave—she could keep her curiosity burning enough to keep from feeling any kind of anxiety.

"I'm sure," she mumbled, "Thank you."

Dropping a kiss to her shoulder, Harry hugged her to his chest for a lingering moment. "You tell me if y'change your mind, darling."

"I will," she assured, despite his words being more of a statement than request.

Reaching over her, Harry grabbed for his phone and began tapping at the screen. The brightness had lowered from disuse, but was brought back to life from his touch, leaving every frame illuminated once more. Snuggled against his back, (Y/N) watched, her eyes widened once the reality of the site was scrolled through.

There was already a video pulled up on screen, showing what exactly took him so long to tap through his phone before. (Y/N) blinked, trying to decipher what was in the thumbnail before her.

From the small snippet she could see—along with the attention grabbing, all caps title—this was a loving couple having morning sex on a Saturday to the sunrise. Very romantic and loving, supposedly. In the picture, she could see the beginnings of a sunrise through a conveniently, perfectly lit bedroom. There were gauzy drapes over their open windows and pristine white linens on their bed—even the creases and folds were artfully tufted around their bodies. (Y/N) couldn't be sure if they were just that perfect, or this was an expertly produced video. She couldn't tell the difference.

The pair was barely clothed, their faces cut out of frame, leaving their bodies to be the star of the show. The man had tattoos—no where near as many as Harry, but still quite an array. He was undressed down his briefs, where there was a bulge that could be clearly seen against the woman's stomach. She was made of smooth swathes of skin, the ends of her hair visible as it brushed her bare skin before disappearing out of frame, and her chest bare. All (Y/N) could see that was distinctive about her form, was a small tattoo on her thigh in the shape of a red heart outline, contrasting against the white cotton panties sitting on her hips. Their limbs were in a tangle with one another, legs crossed and arms holding one another.

From behind, she could feel the brush of Harry's lips against her throat. "Does this look okay?"

(Y/N) gave her approval in a small nod of her head, her hair brushing against her pillow. "Have you watched this before?"

She could hear the curl of his lips in his voice as his words swept across the back of her neck. "A few times, yeah."

As he spoke, Harry's thumb tapped on the video, pressing play and starting it up. She watched as the frames took over the screen, showing the humble beginnings of the film with the woman crawling over the bedsheets to reach her lover where he was laid back against the pillows. The soft sound of their lips meeting could be heard off screen.

"W-When?" she asked, her line of questioning a safe distraction from what was going on in front of her.

The soft sounds of their mouths coming together and parting filtered quietly from his phone. Were they that loud when they kissed too?

"Not for a while," he reminded her, though his voice dropped lower into a whisper just for her when he spoke again, "Watched it for the first time after that night in my office at the shop though, I remember that."

"You do?" Her skin warmed at the reminder of that first night—all of the things she learned that night while sprawled out on that couch.

On video, the man had gripped the woman's hips and settled her atop him from the position she had previously held on all fours. The length of their bodies were pressed together, their faces still just perfectly out of frame to keep everything anonymous. Their kissing had turned rougher, a bit noisier as they sunk into one another. The sun outside their window was casting luminous glares over the scene, giving buttery warmth to their escalating acts.

Harry's hand on her waist squeezed as he watched. "Yeah," Harry breathed, a heavy kiss landing on the back of her neck, "I couldn't stop thinking about you, and I saw this video and... she kind of looks like you, doesn't she?"

(Y/N)'s breath caught in her throat. There was a moment as the woman moved, her body on display against the heavy tattoos of her partner that had her seeing them in just the right light.

Cotton panties, bare skin, delicate tattoo, all wrapped in white with the slow sharing of kisses between she and her lover. (Y/N) could see herself in that.

It was an exhilarating feeling knowing that Harry saw someone so effortlessly sexy, and could see (Y/N) in them.

She pressed herself against him that much more, her back against his chest. His hand on her waist tightened, as if preparing to keep her just where she was should someone try to steal her away. She could feel the fan of his breath fluttering over her skin as she watched his phone.

The acts between the couple escalated until the camera caught the way the woman ran her hand down the man's body until she had reached his cock. Her palm was pressed against the bulge, rubbing against it through the fabric of his underwear. He moaned unabashedly off screen, whispering something for only his lover to hear. (Y/N)'s lungs squeezed when she saw the way the dots of wetness seeped over the grey underwear covering him.

"Wh-What else do you like about this video?" (Y/N) murmured, shifting so her hand was laid over his own on her waist, their fingers tangling together.

A breathy laugh could be heard from behind her. Harry's voice was just as low as he spoke, "Do y'really want me to talk through the whole thing?"

"I like hearing you more," she admitted, squeezing his hand in hers.

A delicate kiss was dropped to her shoulder, the curl of his smile evident in the small contact. "Well, other than her reminding me of my angel," he drawled, a tease to his tone, "'S different than some of the things I used to watch. I liked seeing something gentle."

(Y/N)'s throat bobbed as she swallowed around her dry throat. Before her, the videoed couple had now moved on to sliding their hands into each other's underwear. The man's face was buried in his lover's neck, showing off a head of dark hair as his moans filtering through the small speakers. The woman's whimpering noises could be heard in tandem with the slick sounds of their hands roaming each other's bodies.

"What was the other stuff you watched?" Absently, (Y/N) was aware of the way her hips shifted some, rubbing her backside against Harry's front. Behind her, against the curve of her bottom, she could feel something much more rigid than the blocks of his muscle beginning to press into her.

He paused before he spoke, mulling over her question while she watched on screen as the few pieces of clothing covering the couple's bodies were shed. Harry's hand on her waist shifted, leaving her own behind as he pressed his palm into the soft of her stomach. She could feel the pressure of his fingertips on her plush skin just as much as she could see the man on screen press against his lover's thigh in the same way.

"'Member m'birthday?" he murmured into her skin, his mouth beginning a blazing trail over her shoulder. The tip of his nose caught on the neck of her top, pulling it along with him as he kissed the cuff of her shoulder.

For a split moment, there was a different movie playing for (Y/N). This one featured she and Harry as the stars, celebrating his birthday between the sheets with his cock sinking into her throat, his palm smacking over her center, and his cum painting over her face. She wondered if he could feel the way her stomach tightened under his hand at the memories.

"Yeah," she answered simply, the word carried on a warm breath.

He hummed from behind her, a smug curl on his lips pressing into her shoulder. "Things like that, baby," he explained, "But I started watching things like this after I met you."

The couple on screen was beginning to find the throes of their passion, now both bare bodied and reaching for one another. There was a part of (Y/N) that wanted to shy away at the sight of two strangers and their naked bodies, their recording of an intimate moment not sitting right in her stomach. There was another part of her that imagined Harry sitting down, pants to his thighs and his hand in his lap, picturing she and him in these spots instead as he fisted his cock. That part of her kept her from drawing her eyes away, urging her to see what he did—see what held his attention while waiting for her to be ready for more than easy touching and kisses in his bedroom.

Her mouth felt dry when she tried to speak again, only to be cut off when Harry's palm grazed the waist of her panties. Though she was still only feeling his touch through her shirt, she was sure he could feel the extra groove of fabric and the tightening of her abdomen. Only that much further, and he could fit his hand between her legs just like the man on screen was doing to his own lover.

"Wh-Why?" she asked, building off of his previous response to keep herself from melting and begging for him to touch her when they had barely just started.

Hooking his ankle around hers, Harry started pulling her that much more into his embrace. The sheets around them hissed over their bodies, his phone wobbling from its upright position against the pillow though it didn't fall. He pushed his thigh between her own, opening up her legs with the hem of her oversized shirt being pushed up and over her thighs.

"I liked the idea of going slow, after I met you, love," he detailed, no longer playing around when he finally slid his hand over her form and slipped it under the end of her top, "Didn't really get off on the thought of fucking you as much as I did to kissing you and making y'happy."

(Y/N) all but melted at his explanation. She reveled in the sound of his voice, mixing with the soft sound of the couple on screen finding their own bliss within one another. Through her hooded gaze, it was easy to see the lovers on his phone as she and Harry, the daydream building around her.

In a tug back down to earth, (Y/N)'s breath caught when Harry fit his hand between her thighs. His wandering touch had finally reached her, pressing the heel of his palm against her clit and the length of his fingers down her center. She was sure he could feel the heat that had collected there, though she hoped she hadn't completely soaked through her underwear that quickly.

"Y'like it so far?" he asked, pressing his palm that much harder against her clit.

"Uh-huh," she breathlessly replied. Her hooded eyes were glued to the sight of the way the man positioned himself above her, thighs open for him to fit between. She could hear him murmur something to her, passing a hand over her form with fingertips skating across her breasts and down to the round of her hips. Every touch was careful and clinging, the sound of their kissing soundtracking the moment. "He reminds me of you."

He hummed from behind her, his hand beginning to shift over her core in a delicate press to draw away her breath. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she answered, eyes stitched to the video as the man sunk his cock into his lover, a shrill whine leaving her lips while he settled against her hips. His tattoos quivered as his muscles flexed under his skin, making the stars and constellations inked over his skin dance. "You're better, but," (Y/N) swallowed, hearing the quiet slap of his skin against the woman's as he thrusted against her, "He touches her like you touch me."

Harry's response came in the form of languid touches that warmed her skin and kept her breathless even when her eyes closed and the video was an afterthought. Underneath her, he fit his free arm to coil around her form. His thigh between her two tensed, lifting just enough so he could spread her own legs enough to give her what she wanted.

Hooking his fingers into her panties, he pulled them to the side, a cool shiver going up (Y/N)'s spine now that she was exposed to his touch. He dragged his fingertips through her slit, collecting the drops of slick until he circled around her clit in languorous pulls.

She had never been so thankful for the stretched out neckline of her top as she was then, when she felt Harry's heavy kisses searing into her bare skin. There was so much of him all over, pressing into her back with his cock hard against her, his kiss on her shoulder, and his hand on her core, pulling more and more air out of her lungs.

"You know how many times I thought about doing that to you, baby?" he drawled into her skin, syrupy and thick into her pores, "Before y'were ready, this was all I had. Had to picture you letting me spread you out like that, feel how wet you were jus' for me."

With his hand between her thighs, slick fingertips on her clit before they traveled down towards her pulsing opening, she could have cried for him. She had been depriving him of this, leaving him to only watch videos and imagine, when they could have been doing this so much sooner. She wasn't sure at times—especially at one like this—how she had even made it through without his touch.

"I'm sorry," she stuttered out for him, her hand grasping at sheets, "Yo-You should have told me."

A rumble of laughter was felt against her back as much as she heard the sound fan to her ears. "Don't be sorry, lovebug, y'jus' weren't ready yet, that's all. I think we're making up for it jus' fine, don't you?"

She could only nod her head, forcing her eyes to blink open. It was a task given the fact that she was still luxuriating in the tease of his fingers passing over her entrance before smearing her clit and restarting the circuit. Looking ahead, she had seen that the couple on film was thick in their session, breathless, the man straining himself as he set a controlled pace while thrusting into his partner with the woman grasping and reaching for any part of him she could reach. Watching the way the man's skin turned pink in the wake of her nails made (Y/N) want to do the same to Harry—what would the roses on his chest and the butterfly on his torso look like filled in with a bit of color?

"I want to see you," she blurted out, unable to hold back anymore. She didn't care much for the movie anymore anyway, he was what she wanted. This video would probably still be there later, they could explore more later, if she really wanted.

A teasing smile could be heard in his voice, the notion making (Y/N) want to feel embarrassed through she didn't have much room for that given the way she was rutting into his hand. "Y'don't want to keep watching? I thought y'liked it, love? Liked him?"

"I like you," she countered, already turning in his arms despite the coil of his hold around her, "I want to see you now. You're better."

He didn't put up any more teasing argument, instead helping her as she twisted and turned in his arms until his phone was forgotten in the tufts of the duvet and she had her lips pressed to his. His and that had been between her legs was now stationed at her hip, his fingertips denting into the plush skin as she melted into him. A sigh of something that felt like relief to (Y/N) slipped from her throat.

Harry parted his lips, swiping his tongue across the seam of her mouth, tasting her noises. Reaching for his bare shoulders, (Y/N) wasn't even thinking before she had the blunt of her nails pressing to his skin, just like the woman in the video. (Who must have been having a good time given the faint noises (Y/N) could still hear among the folds of their bedding).

She readily opened her mouth for him to slip his tongue inside, eager to get a state of him. He led her through the kiss, pressing his tongue to hers and tasting through every delicate moan and breathy exhale she gave.

This was definitely better than watching a video.

"Harry," she mumbled into his kiss, barely enunciating before she was urging to press her lips to his once more.

He smiled against her mouth, allowing a small slew of her excited kisses to hit him before he pulled away enough to meet her eyes. His pupils were wide and dark, leaving only slices of murky green to ring around them. There was a flush over his cheeks, warm and red that matched the hue of his kiss-swollen lips. She couldn't help her eyes but to follow the tip of his tongue as it peeked out to wet his lips.

"What do y'want from me love?"

Her answer was automatic: "You."

(Y/N)'s gaze was drawn to the dimple that was thumbed into his cheek as a lopsided curl took his lips. "I know," he said, much too smug, "But do y'want me to keep touching you? Or do y'want more, love? Gotta tell me or I can't help you."

Her mind flashed to the vision of the man fitting his hips against his lover's like a puzzle piece, sinking inside her and straining his muscles to making the best pace for her. That was what (Y/N) wanted.

"I want more," she told him, her voice a whisper between just the two of them, "Like the video."

Harry drew closer towards he, his smile fading as the blunt of his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. "I can do that for you, baby. Do you think you're ready for me, or do y'need a little more?"

She shook her head on instinct. "I'm ready."

Tipping his chin, Harry pulled her into another languid kiss with his tongue touching over her lips. His kiss was a welcome distraction while his hand reached for the waist of her panties underneath the hem of her top. He pushed them down her thighs as far as he could before he was forced to break their kiss to help ease them off the rest of the way. (Y/N) felt clingy for him in that moment, already missing his touch and warmth. It wasn't much longer that he pulled his own underwear off, everything landing into a pile on the floor, before he was laying himself atop her.

Much like the movie, she swore their hips fit like puzzle pieces together, the bones cushioned by plush skin. She reached for his arms reflexively, though she hadn't meant to grip him so tightly until she felt the head of his cock nudge against her clit. Her lungs squeezed with a coiled ribbon cinching around her stomach.

Above her, Harry was like an angel. His eyes were bare from his usual liner, though there were still the stark black additions of his nose and lip rings pierced through his face. His skin was flushed and warm, cheeks matching his bright eyes. Around his features, his curls hung around in waved strands and curled ringlets. It wasn't the first time she had seen him like this and wondered if he was the true angel between the two.

"Still feel good, love?" he asked, his hands fisted into anchors on either side of her head.

Matching the intensity of his eye contact, (Y/N) kept herself from shrugging her hips against his own, wanting of feel along heavy brush of his cock against her center. "Uh-huh," she sounded, throat dry, "Please."

Only a glimpse of his smile could be seen before he was dipping down to draw her in for another kiss. He sealed his mouth to hers, kissing her top lip delicately with the soft sounds of their lips parting and coming together to fill the room.

For a moment, (Y/N) wondered if they would look like that couple if they were on film. If their love, and the gentle touches, and the shared heartspace could be seen just as easily. She liked to think they would do it even better.

One of his hands on the bed disappeared, the mattress shifting without the weight, before she felt it again over the small of her stomach. It was nothing more than a soft brush before he had his fist wrapped around his cock, guiding himself inside her. The head brushed against her clit in a heavy press; she couldn't tell if she was more wet than she thought or if he had been pearling dots of precum from his tip while she was preoccupied.

He slid his tip through her folds until he hit the pulsing entrance nestled inside. (Y/N) shivered, letting out small noise into his mouth. She could tell her was becoming distracted, his kiss slowing until he was doing nothing other than focusing on the slid of his cock through her wetness, socking in her until he finally pressed forward.

It was a familiar stretch, the head fitting inside her, but it still took her breath away. Especially now that their box of condoms was pushed to the back of his bedside drawer, barely used unless she asked, she was able to feel every ridge and vein on his cock. She felt more and more full with every inch pushed inside her, her walls pulling him in while she attempted to keep kissing him before giving up on the act in favor of simply resting her parted lips against his own.

Harry's guiding hand had shifted to lay on her hip, his touch a bit slick though neither of them minded. He was just as lost in the feeling as he was with the way he let out shuddering breaths with stilted lungs, his hand on the other side of her head now holding a tremor. His breath came out in warm fans over her features, heating her that much further.

He bottomed out with a wet sound of his cock sliding through her walls, his base resting heavy against her clit. (Y/N)'s hold on his arms tightened at the feeling, nails leaving imprints on his skin.

Her heartbeat bubbled in her ears as she got her bearings, coming to with a flutter of her eyes only to see harry already looking at her with his own hooded gaze.

"You alright?" he breathed, dilated eyes scanning over her features, "Do y'need me to wait?"

"No, no," she bubbled off, "Please, daddy."

That was all he seemingly needed to hear—the whine of her voice and his title so lovingly mentioned—before Harry was rearing his hips back and pressing into her once more. He split her open, her walls stretching and opening for him to fit inside with every languid thrust. The first few took her breath away, getting used to the feeling of the friction and every part of her body being fulfilled by him.

"Daddy," she helplessly called out, her voice a shared secret for just the two of them. The sheets hissed around them, matching her volume.

Harry watched her form above as she struggled to keep her eyes from closing. She wanted to see him; this is what she had been wanting when she decided to ditch the movie. She wanted to watch him the way they had watched the couple.

"'M here, baby. 'M here," he murmured, his voice dropping low as his mouth fell into a gape. "Feel so good, love—fuck."

Spurred on by his praise, (Y/N) hiked her this over his hip, the heel of her foot pressing into the back of his thigh. Her plush skin gave way to the angles of his body, cushioning him as he drove his hips into hers in lingering passes. His hand on her hip shifted then, dragging her sleep shirt the rest of the way up until her bare breasts were exposed to the heat of the room.

His palm dragged over the swell, her nipple catching on the creases of his skin. Goosebumps erupted over her form, her lashes fluttering at the touch. Harry dipped his head down, pressing his lips to her other breast, the tip of his nose skimming across before he wrapped his mouth around her nipple. His tongue touched over the bud, warming her though she could feel the skin tightening in response. He matched the pace of his wandering touch on her other breast, allowing her to feel him in every place she needed.

Almost.

Feeling the base of his cock press against her clit wasn't enough. She needed more than that fleeting touch against her, more than just the harsh smear over her weeping center.

"Daddy, I—" she cried out, her words evaporating when she felt him twitch inside her.

"'S okay," he shushed her, his mouth popping off of her nipple before he dragged his kisses towards her collarbone, "'M here, baby. I'll give y'anything y'want."

His words were nothing more than smeared rambles, but they sank perfectly into her brain. He was here—he had her. He wasn't a silly video, he was real and she could feel his weight and his touch and even his heartbeat.

"I want—" she stumbled, her words failing her in the heat of the moment, "I need—Please, touch me."

"I am touching you, baby," he countered, looking up at her through his lashes before finally leveling his gaze with hers. He hovered above her, his eyes still finding hers even as he jostled her with every thrust into her. "Y'need to tell me what y'want, and then I can help."

"My—It's—"

(Y/N) almost felt panicked, instead reaching for his hand on her breast to push it down to the apex of her thighs. His wrist strained under her hand when he realized when she was directing him towards. That was all the cue he needed before his thumb was smearing over her clit, circling and patting the bud just as she had wanted.

All but melting into the mattress, the beginnings of a cocky curl fell on his lips. "This was what y'wanted, my love? Coulda jus' told daddy—would have done it for you earlier."

Maybe it was feeling him splitting her walls open, slick with his precum, his hand on her clit, or the sound of his voice wrapped around his honorific, but (Y/N) could feel the bow in her abdomen tightening.

She could only whine for him, tightening her fingers around the bones of his wrist as he kept his ministrations up. His skin glimmered in a sheen of sweat, baby curls sticking to his temples as he took care of her just as he promised.

He caught her looking, matching his eyes to hers when she dared to travel her gaze to his clumped lashes. She expected a curl of his lips, a flash in his eyes, something teasing and smug to enter his expression. Instead, she saw the way his face rounded out, the harsh angles that usually made him up now fading into soft lines and curved edges.

"I love you," he murmured, "So much, (Y/N). You know that?"

This was a moment she wished she had on video, exactly from her perspective with every detail memorialized.

Releasing her hands on his wrist and arm, she settled her palms on his cheeks. Despite the rocking of their forms, the rustling bedsheets, and his phone lost somewhere at seat, (Y/N) almost forgot about everything but his touch.

"I love you too, honey."

Something flashed through his gaze then, but it was decidedly softer, more delicate than anything she had ever spotted before. She never called him by many pet names, preferring his name (it was the name of the man she was in love with, she couldn't think of a better thing to call him), but there were moments she thought he might like the extra love falling from her lips.

Harry didn't waste any longer than a beat before he was smearing his lips against hers. The kiss was messy and clumsy, just off center with his tongue swiping out before she was ready, but she loved it. This was what she wanted, what had been on her mind throughout the video.

He put more of himself into her, his hips picking up pace and his hand on her clit quickening. She felt the press of his chest every time he sank in deep inside her, splitting her walls and making more room for him than she even knew she had. Her insides clenched around him, sucking him deeper every time he sank back inside. The ribbon in her stomach was beginning to fray at the edges, unravelling more and more.

"B-Baby," Harry breathlessly crooned, pulling away just enough so she could hear, "Where do y'want m'cum? 'M al-almost there—fuck."

She didn't have to think before she was answering him, "Inside, inside. Please, daddy. I want it inside."

There was one more twitch of his cock inside her, his head nudging against what felt like her stomach, before there was nothing left of her to give. The fraying ribbon gave way, spooling too tight inside before falling apart. She shredded around him, feeling like nothing more than glimmering fabric laying in his arms for him to toss and turn whichever way he wanted. She could feel herself grow wetter, Harry's cock slicking through her opening.

(Y/N) clung to him, her hands on his cheeks keeping him close as she attempted to kiss him through her hazy mind. It was nothing more than her gaped mouth dropped open against his own, nothing more than absent calls of his name falling from her throat.

Barely, she could hear Harry mumbling a declaration—that he loved her—over and over against her mouth. She felt entirely too full, everything too much, when she realized he was cumming. Just as she had begged, he let go inside her, painting her walls in pumps of his cum that mixed with her own. She wouldn't be surprised to feel the aftermath dripping over her thighs.

By the time Harry's bedroom came back to fruition around her, (Y/N) wasn't sure if she had been breathing properly since he landed atop her. Everything around her was wispy, not quite real, other than Harry himself. He was a comforting weight, an anchor she clung to.

Sinking atop her, he rested his cheek on top of her chest. His nose skimmed her throat as he nuzzled closer to her, the length of his lashes tickling her bare chest.

"Y'alright, love?" he murmured, just as out of breath as she was.

"Mhm," she hummed, wrapping her arms around him in a clumsy hug, "I love you too, by the way."

A rumbling laugh fell from his chest. "Love you more."

With a small kiss being pressed to her sternum, harry began to untangle himself from her hold. He righted her shirt on her torso, covering her chest and keeping out the call that was beginning to seep over their sweat-glimmered skin now that the sheets had slid off of them.

"Where are you going?" she almost whined, reaching for him when he shifted out from between her cushioning hips.

His smile was tender, affection swimming in his lightening gaze as he looked at her. He brushed a stray hair out of her face, keeping her features clear for his admiration. "We've gotta clean up, love. Can't go to bed like this, can we?"

Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) didn't want to answer him. He was right—she needed to use the restroom and find a different pair of underwear for the night, while Harry inevitably searched for new sheets to change the bed into. But she didn't want to do that right now. She didn't want to walk around on wobbly legs, and go through her designated drawer, or anything else. She didn't want to touch anything that wasn't him.

Instead, (Y/N) clung to him, using her weight to tug him down until he finally relented. Harry gave in with a sigh though he couldn't keep the smile off of his face.

"Five more minutes, 'kay?" he bargained, cuddling her into him with her face in his throat and chin on the crown of her head. He even tugged the sheet up to blanket their forms once more, keeping her warm before patting her hip through the material.

(Y/N) smiled, pecking a small kiss to his neck.

"Five more minutes."

She'd stretch it until ten.

—————

I finally got around to this request so thank you for everyone bein patient!!!! thank you for reading, sorry for any mistakes and if there's any ideas or requests you have send them in !!!

1K notes · View notes

wholoveseggs · 2 months

Note

Hey lovely, your latest story gave me an idea. How about Reader and Elijah have been together for a while, but he is the one to avoid sex. Every time he has been with a human, it overpowered them or hurt them. He can't keep Red Door Elijah in check, which is fine when he's with a supernatural being, but not when he's with a human. Reader knows his backstory but is determined to show him that their love is different.

Control

{I've officially run out of gifs I want to use, so I'm in my moodboard era now}

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

Plagued by nightmares of hurting you, Elijah avoids any form of intimacy, but you have had enough. You confront him about his rejection and Elijah finally learns how to let go and lose control.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @originals23, love love love red door elijah and his dark side ♡♡

6k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, lots of angst, red door Elijah, trauma, nightmares, visions of death, blood, blood drinking, rough sex, aggressive flirting, dom!elijah, jealously, masquerade ball, elevator vandalism...

Elijah needed control the way a drowning man needed air. It was as if it was a basic function, like oxygen, like blood. He had always been that way, even before he was turned, but it got worse when he was forced to take lives for food and to stay alive. His nature demanded he take what he wanted, when he wanted, but he was afraid of that, so he clung to rules, to discipline.

But no matter what he did, he was still plagued with the same nightmare. You, his perfect love, dead in his arms. Your body limp and lifeless, your eyes open but vacant. And all because he couldn't control himself. Your blood stained his skin, his clothes, his heart.

You knew better than to sneak up on a sleeping vampire, but it wasn't just any vampire. It was your Elijah, your sweet, loving, gentle Elijah.

All you wanted to do was surprise him with some coffee. It was going to be a long day, there was a huge party being hosted by Marcel. All of the factions were gathering for a masquerade ball, the first of its kind in centuries. There were rumors of a peace treaty in the works, and the festivities were the opening salvo.

You were beyond excited, you never experienced this sort of thing, and you were so happy that Elijah would be by your side. You picked out a matching set of masks for the two of you. For him, a sleek, black one with dark feathers at the tips. For yourself, a delicate, lace one in a deep crimson.

When you were younger, you had dreams of wearing beautiful, elaborate gowns, and dancing the night away with a handsome man. You couldn't help but feel giddy thinking about tonight.

You set the coffees down on a nearby table. Elijah's room was dim, only a small shaft of light peeking out from behind the curtains. He was curled up in the center of his large bed, his hair was disheveled and his lips were parted. The sheet was pooled around his hips, revealing his chiseled chest and toned arms.

He was beautiful, and you very much wanted to explore every bit of him. But he wouldn't allow it. He wouldn't allow himself to lose control. He had told you about his darkness, the red door, the place where he put all of the sins he couldn't live with.

When his control was frayed and his mind was weak, it would whisper to him, tempt him. Because there, in that space, he didn't have to feel guilt or pain. He was free. Free to do as he wished. He would be able to take you, claim you, love you the way his darker instincts screamed at him to.

You pulled off your sweater and boots, leaving you in just a mini dress and socks. You padded over to the bed and carefully slid under the covers, trying not to disturb him. You cuddled up next to him, your hand resting on his chest. You wished he would let you in, let you experience all of him, the good, the bad, the ugly. You loved him, and that meant loving everything about him.

Elijah had sensed your presence from the moment you entered his room, but he remained still, feigning sleep. His sweet little love, so utterly defenseless and vulnerable, alone in a vampire's bed. His fingers itched to touch you, to pull you into his embrace and never let you go. He could hear your heartbeat, steady and strong, could smell the sweet perfume you had dabbed behind your ears, and could feel the heat radiating off of your body. He was acutely aware of every aspect of you. It was hard not to give in to temptation, to pull you into his arms and kiss you until your lips were swollen and pink.

"Elijah," you said softly, in a sing-song voice. You brushed your fingers along his jaw, the stubble rough against your soft skin. He stirred slightly, pretending to wake.

"Hmm, good morning, love." He rasped, his voice heavy with sleep.

You kissed him softly, smiling into it. "Good morning. I brought us coffee."

He hummed, "That's perfect. Thank you, sweetheart."

"I can't wait for tonight." You sighed, tracing your fingers down his throat and along his collar bones.

Elijah was torn between letting his eyes flutter shut at the contact or watching your movements. You had him entranced.

"I can't either," he agreed. "You'll be the most beautiful woman there, I have no doubt."

You blushed at his compliment and kissed him again, your lips lingering against his. He groaned and rolled onto his side, bringing his hands up to cup your face, his thumbs stroking along your cheekbones. He let himself give in just a little, let the control slip a fraction. You gasped into the kiss as his tongue swept along the seam of your lips. Your lips parted, allowing him entry. You melted against him, your hand coming up to rest on his bicep.

His hands slid down your body, mapping every dip and curve, memorizing the feel of you. Your skin was like silk, your body supple and soft. You had a slight tremor, nervous, or maybe excited. He wasn't sure, but he loved how your breath hitched as he moved his hands lower and lower, until his palms were flat on your backside, his fingers flexing as he pulled you flush against him.

You hummed, a noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan. He drank it in, taking all of your little sounds and storing them in his memory. He rolled, pulling you with him so that you were under him. You moaned as he settled between your thighs, his weight a welcome comfort. He moved his mouth down, nipping at the skin of your throat and collarbone, careful not to let his fangs break the surface.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling gently. You had fantasized about being with him in this way for so long, dreamed about how his body would feel pressed against yours, how his hands would feel on your bare skin. You didn't know what caused this shift in him, this sudden willingness to be intimate, but you were glad for it.

You tugged at the waistband of his boxers, trying to tell him what you wanted. You were not a shy person, you wanted to experience what it was like to be with such a powerful creature, to feel his strength and passion.

Elijah groaned and rocked his hips against yours, letting you feel how much he desired you. His control was slipping, and he didn't care. You wanted him, and he would have you. He leaned back to look at your beautiful face, wanting to etch this moment in his memory for all eternity. You were a vision, cheeks flushed and eyes dark with want.

Suddenly everything started to warp, your flushed skin turned cold, your warm eyes grew distant, and your heart slowed to a stop. His breath caught as a trickle of blood leaked from the corner of your mouth. He looked down at his hands and they were covered in your blood, the dark, rich liquid soaking the sheets and staining his skin.

"No, no, no, no, no." He chanted, trying to bring you back, willing the darkness to recede.

Your eyes were glassy, lifeless, bite marks all over your neck, your chest, your legs. You were covered in them, the evidence of his weakness, his inability to keep his desires in check.

Elijah threw himself from the bed, stumbling backwards. He clutched his head in his hands, a scream ripping from his throat. You were gone, dead, and it was his fault. He would never be able to look at your smiling face, never hear your soft laugh, or feel your lips on his again.

"Eli?" you said, stunned by his sudden departure. He was now across the room looking like a caged animal, his eyes wild and his hair a mess. You climbed out of the bed and slowly approached him. He looked like he was going to bolt, his muscles tense and his breath ragged.

"Are you alright?" you asked, reaching out to touch his arm.

"Don't!" he shouted, flinching away from your touch. "Don't touch me."

"Okay," you said, holding up your hands. "I won't."

He felt like he was losing his grip, the world was shifting around him, the ground threatening to give out beneath his feet. He felt like he was back there, back in that slaughterhouse that haunted him, the place that whispered his darkest desires, the place that taunted him with visions of what he truly was, no matter how much control he thought he had over it.

You reached out to him again, and he snapped. He grabbed your arm and pushed you against the wall, his eyes black and his fangs sharp. You gasped, but didn't struggle, trusting that he would never hurt you.

He released you at once, horrified by what he had done. He backed away, shaking his head. "No, no, no. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He sank to his knees, his eyes wild and frantic.

"It's okay, Eli." You said, kneeling in front of him.

"You need to leave, please." He begged, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm not going anywhere." You said firmly, reaching out to touch him again. He tensed, his breath hitching as you made contact.

"LEAVE," he roared, his eyes flashing. You jerked your hand back, surprised by his outburst.

Elijah regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, he watched you run out of the room and all he wanted was to chase after you, but his pride and fear kept him rooted in place. He couldn't let you be around him, look at what he did? If he couldn't control himself in a moment of passion, what would happen if he really let go?

Elijah stood in front of his mirror, adjusting and readjusting his tie. His hair was combed and his suit was tailored perfectly. But none of it felt right, the buttons on his shirt were too tight, the cufflinks too heavy, the material of his suit too coarse. He needed it all to go away.

He felt like a monster. A monster wearing a man's skin.

Elijah closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could do this. He could get through this night. He didn't know if you were coming to the party, and he couldn't decide if he wanted you there or not. He hated the idea of you being away from him, but he also couldn't bear the thought of you seeing him like this, a man unraveling, barely keeping himself together.

He opened his eyes and forced himself to smile, but the sight was a mockery. His lips were pulled taut, and his teeth looked like daggers. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to tear down the entire city and start anew.

"Elijah! we are going to be late!" He heard Rebekah yell from the courtyard below.

"Be right there," he called, his voice hoarse. He gave himself one last look in the mirror before he walked out of the room and descended the stairs. He could see his siblings all gathered, dressed impeccably with their dates on their arms.

Klaus was talking with Camille, they were dressed in matching shades of blue. Freya and Keelin were standing close together, their hands entwined. Kol was whispering something in Davina's ear, making her laugh. Rebekah was on the phone with Marcel, telling him she was on her way. And Hayley was chatting with Jackson, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

"There you are." Freya said, noticing his presence. "Where is y/n? She was so excited about tonight."

The sound of your name made his chest ache, he was about to explain, or rather, come up with a plausible excuse when he heard a voice from behind him.

"I'm right here."

He turned around to see you walking down the stairs, dressed in an ornate black gown, matching his suit, your mask hanging in your hand.

"Y/n," he said, stunned by how beautiful you were.

You smiled slightly and approached him, your heels clicking on the stones. He took your hand, inspecting your arm. It was bruised and there were small scratches from where he had dug his nails into your skin. He brushed his fingers over the marks, regret and guilt filling him.

"It's fine," you said, squeezing his hand.

"No, it's not."

You leaned in and kissed him softly, the feeling of your lips on his caused him to relax a little. He kissed you back, the contact grounding him, reminding him why he needed to stay in control, for you.

"Let's go," Klaus said, gesturing for everyone to follow him out the door.

You took your mask and placed it on, the crimson filigree complimenting the dark silk of your gown. Elijah put on his mask, the bold design making his dark eyes stand out.

The group arrived at Marcel's penthouse, finding the place already crowded. People were drinking, dancing, and mingling. It was a lively atmosphere, filled with music and laughter.

"It's nice," you commented, holding Elijah's hand.

"It is," he agreed, looking around the room. "Shall we?"

He gestured to the dance floor and you nodded, taking his offered arm. He led you to the center of the room, where couples were already twirling and spinning.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.

"You may," you answered, giving him a shy smile.

He took your hand and placed his other on your hip, guiding you through the steps. The two of you swayed to the music, moving gracefully.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," you reassured him.

He wanted to argue, but you didn't give him a chance. You captured his lips in a kiss, the world around you melting away. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The two of you stayed locked in the embrace, the music and the crowd fading into the background.

The two of you danced for a while, enjoying the feeling of being close to one another. The environment letting him relax a little. But when the music changed, becoming slow and sultry, his mind started to drift.

Elijah imagined pushing you against a wall, kissing your neck and leaving marks. He wanted to rip your dress off, and explore every inch of you. He wanted to bite you, to taste your blood. He wanted to claim you, to make you his.

He wanted to let go, to allow himself to give in. To experience the kind of pleasure and power that only came with a lack of control. But then he saw the blood again, the crimson of your mask, the ruby red of your lipstick, turned to the viscous liquid that both haunted and nourished him.

"What is it?" you asked, noticing the way his body tensed.

"Nothing," he said, his voice strained. "I just need a drink,"

He let go of you and headed to the bar, needing some strong alcohol to help calm his nerves. He ordered a scotch and downed it in one go, the liquid burning his throat. He ordered another, and another, until the world was pleasantly fuzzy and his thoughts were quiet.

"Mr. Mikaelson, so good to see you," a woman said, coming up to him.

"Madam," he replied, not looking up from his drink.

"How is business?" she asked, clearly wanting to engage in a conversation.

"Fine." He said shortly, hoping she would get the hint.

"The party is wonderful," she commented, sipping from a champagne flute, her mask was turquoise and silver, a few strands of her dark hair escaping her updo.

"Thank you, the decorations were my sister's doing," he replied, trying to be polite.

"Ah yes, your sister," the woman said, her eyes drifting over the crowd, landing on the blonde vampire. "She's almost as pretty as you," the woman added, a seductive smile on her lips.

"You're quite flattering, but I'm spoken for," Elijah told her, not unkindly.

The woman pouted. "So I heard, a human though? That must be...difficult," she said.

"How so?" He asked, not liking the direction the conversation was going.

"Humans are frail, their lives are fleeting," the woman replied, her hand coming to rest on his chest. He looked down at her hand touching him, her daylight ring a large sapphire. "And they are so easily broken," she added.

He clenched his jaw, trying not to let her words get to him. "That is why they are treasured," he replied, scanning the crowd in search for you.

"They are food. I thought an original vampire would know the difference," the woman grinned, enjoying getting a reaction out of him.

"Watch your tongue, Madam, or you might find it missing," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

"Oh, feisty," the woman purred, her free hand went up and she ran her finger over the edge of his mask. "You could have any creature here, take them however you want. Break them in the best possible way," she purred, her pupils dilated.

"That's not how I operate, now if you will excuse me," he said, his anger starting to bubble.

"That's how you used to operate," the woman taunted, her fingers trailing over the buttons of his jacket. "I'm a little hurt that you don't recognize me," the woman pouted, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Should I?" He asked, trying to place her face.

"Paris, summer of 1783, you had me by the hair, bent over the side of a balcony, fucking me so hard that the cement cracked," she told him, licking her lips. "You were wild, rough, animalistic. And it was amazing," she breathed, her gaze unfocused as she remembered the night.

Elijah couldn't remember her, nor did he remember the event. It was amusing to him that this vampire thought she was special. She wasn't. He had bedded hundreds, maybe even thousands, of women. He only ever remembered the ones he loved.

"A shame you can't recall, I've thought about it many times over the years," she said.

He raised his eyebrows. "That's a bit pathetic," he said bluntly.

She laughed, not taking offense. "Perhaps, but the sex was fantastic, I can still feel your bite," she smiled, her eyes falling to his mouth.

Elijah shook his head. "My dear, I'm sure there are plenty of willing participants here, if you truly wish to relive the past, you'll have no trouble finding someone to assist," he said dismissively.

"I would prefer you," the woman said, her tone changing. "No one here matches your power, no one can fuck me like you did."

"Maybe try Niklaus, ask him to bite you," he smirked, watching as his brother and Camille were laughing together.

"Both of you dating humans, what a complete and utter waste," she said, her eyes flicking to you. "I bet I could make you forget all about her," she cooed, pressing herself closer to him.

You could see this vampire all over Elijah, touching him and speaking in his ear. You weaved through the crowd, wanting to put an end to it.

Elijah's attention turned from the woman, a smile spreading across his face as he saw you walking towards him.

"I'm going to have to politely decline, thank you." he said, reaching his hand out for yours.

"Come now, surely you could use some relief," the woman cooed, her hands trailing over his body, ignoring your presence completely.

You didn't quite know what came over you, but you reached up and gently slapped her hand away from him.

The vampire turned her attention to you, her eyes going to the bruising on your arm. She let out a laugh. "Oh my, perhaps I was wrong, looks like your little plaything can handle you," the woman mocked, a smirk on her lips.

"Don't," Elijah growled, not appreciating her words.

She just laughed and shrugged, turning her attention back to him. "If you change your mind, I'll be here all night." the vampire winked at him and walked away, joining another group.

Elijah let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You gave Elijah a half-smile, hoping he wouldn't think you were stupid for hitting the vampire. She could have so easily crushed you, but you weren't afraid of her.

"Who was that?" you asked, annoyed by the exchange.

He shook his head. "An old lover, it seems," he told you, his lips pressed in a thin line.

"Oh," was all you said, sadness filling you. You weren't the overly jealous type, but knowing that vampire had Elijah in a way you hadn't made you envious and sad.

Elijah saw the change in your demeanor and realized he had not answered the question right. You misunderstood him.

"Not a recent lover," he explained. "It was a very long time ago, and I do not remember the night," he assured you, his hand cupping your cheek.

You sighed, his touch instantly easing the tension in your body.

He pulled you close, his arm wrapping around your waist. "That was very brave of you, that could have ended very badly" he said softly in your ear.

Your hands went to his shoulders, clinging to his jacket, the material warm from his body. "You make me feel brave, you make me feel safe," you murmured.

His heart constricted. He didn't deserve your faith or your trust. The bruise on your arm was proof enough of that. He should let you go, make you hate him and walk away from you before you get hurt anymore, but he couldn't. Not while you were looking up at him with all that trust and affection in your eyes. He loved you far too much to give up.

He leaned in and kissed you, the familiar spark of electricity passing between you. He deepened the kiss, his hand cupping the back of your neck. He was pouring everything he felt for you into it, hoping you could feel the depths of his love and devotion.

You returned the kiss, trying to convey all the things you couldn't say. You broke apart, panting slightly. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.

"Eli, I was hoping that we could...," you trailed off, biting your lip.

"What?" he asked, his eyes fluttering open.

"I want us to...you know," you whispered.

His eyes darkened, hunger and need filled him. All of the work he had done to push away his urges, to protect you, had unraveled in an instant. Now all he could focus on was the vision of your body beneath his, the feeling of skin against skin. The blood flowing through your veins singing a song to him that he could not deny, at least, not completely.

He pulled you a little closer, swaying you to the music playing, his other hand gripping your hip possessively. You watched his pupils dilate, saw the tension in his jaw and the bob of his Adam's apple.

"Not tonight," he murmured, trying his hardest to hide how much he wanted you, how much it would hurt to reject you again.

Your fingers curled around the lapels of his suit jacket, tugging on it a little harder than you meant to. He never wanted to give in, to allow himself a taste of pleasure. Even with his walls down, Elijah could never truly give himself to you completely.

His hands went to yours, prying your fingers from his jacket, his eyes dark and dangerous. "You do not understand how difficult it is," he hissed.

You pulled against his grip, anger bubbling up. "So, help me understand," you said in a soft tone, ignoring the fact that you were arguing in a room full of people and that you were both gripping each other hard enough to bruise.

"It feels like..." you started, shaking your head a little, "like, I am not enough. Do you not want me? Or have you realized that you need more and I cannot provide that to you?" You finished in a small voice.

His grip on your hands tightened, a warning look flashing in his eyes. "You are more than enough," he whispered, his eyes softening.

You took a steadying breath. "Then. Please. Fuck. Me," you said bluntly.

Elijah let go of you as if you had burned him. Your words cut him deeply.

You let out a frustrated sigh, his rejection stinging. "I... I'm going to go home," you said, blinking back tears.

He went to grab you but you moved out of his reach, his fingers barely grazing your arm. He watched you leave, his eyes following your figure until it disappeared into the crowd.

It was in that moment that he knew he had to make a decision, either he could keep trying to be gentle with you and risk losing you or he could give in and have you completely, but at the cost of hurting you.

Elijah drained his drink and placed the empty glass on the bar, his mind made up. He followed you, moving so fast that no one saw him leave.

You were upset, your feelings a tangled mess, waiting in a quiet hallway for the elevator to arrive. Your eyes were glazed with tears, your breathing shaky. You didn't know what to do, and you didn't know what you wanted from him.

You were lost in thought when the elevator dinged, announcing its arrival, but before the doors opened, hands were on your waist and you were pressed against the wall. His lips were on yours, hungry and demanding. You gasped and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You melted into his touch, your fingers tangling in his hair. His hands were on your thighs, lifting you up and pushing your dress higher.

You wrapped your legs around him, pressing your body against his. The heat between you erupting, causing a soft moan to escape your lips.

He broke the kiss, his mouth going to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. His hands were on your hips, pulling your body closer. He was rough and urgent, his nails digging into your skin. You gasped, arching into him, needing to feel more.

"You want me to fuck you?" he whispered in your ear, his voice low and husky. "I will," he promised, his lips ghosting over yours.

You clung to him, giving yourself over to the moment. He lifted you off the ground and carried you to the elevator. The doors slid open and he stepped inside, pressing you against the wall. His hands were all over your body, touching and teasing.

You were so caught up in his touch that you didn't notice the doors closing, trapping the two of you alone. He punched the panel, making the elevator come to a jerking stop. He kissed you, his hands finding their way under your dress, pushing the fabric out of the way.

He gripped your hips, grinding against you. The intensity and desperation in his touch was new, making your head spin. You wanted more, needed more. You moaned, the sound echoing off the walls. He groaned, his fingers digging into your skin.

He pushed your panties aside, sliding a finger into your wet heat. You gasped, arching into him. He pumped his finger in and out of you, curling it inside of you. He added a second finger, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit.

He groaned, the feeling of you tightening around him almost too much, his lips brushing your ear. "I want to hear you say my name when I make you come," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your skin.

All you could do was nod, your cheeks flushed and your eyes closed, it was all happening so fast and you couldn't get enough of it. He pressed his lips to your neck, nipping at your skin. He added a third finger, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit.

Your eyebrows arched, locking eyes with him, your mouth open and your hands clutching his jacket. The pressure was building and you felt like you were going to explode. You gasped, his fingers pumping in and out of you.

"Elijah," you said his name breathlessly.

"That's it," he encouraged, pulling on your earlobe with his teeth. "Say my name," he ordered.

"Elijah," you moaned, the pressure coiling tighter.

"Again," he demanded, his hand speeding up.

"Elijah," his name fell from your lips, your release crashing through you.

Your eyes slammed shut, your head thrown back, the muscles in your neck straining. You were trembling, a sheen of sweat coating your skin. He slowly withdrew his fingers, placing gentle kisses along your neck and jaw. You could feel his fangs graze your skin.

He was so hard, you could feel his erection pressing against you. You shifted your weight, trying to gain some friction, but he pulled away, his hands on your hips, pinning you in place.

You opened your eyes, looking at his face, his eyes completely black, the veins under them moving, his mouth open slightly, showing his fangs. You felt fear, but not the type of fear that made you want to run, but the kind of fear that sent a thrill through your body, the kind that made you crave danger.

You lightly traced your fingers over the veins, a smile on your lips. His chest rising and falling rapidly. You ran your finger over his lower lip, and he leaned in, his fangs scraping the pad of your finger. You could feel the sharp tips. He was so dangerous, so lethal, a perfect predator, yet here you were, trapped and wanting nothing more than to have him consume you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He pressed his body against yours, his erection grinding against you. You moaned, reaching between you, your fingers deftly working the button and zipper of his trousers. You tugged his boxers down, his hard cock springing free. You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him.

"Fuck," he growled, his hips bucking, seeking more of your touch.

You tightened your grip, stroking him faster, twisting your wrist a little. He groaned, his hands on your thighs, his eyes hooded and his mouth parted slightly.

You released him and wrapped your arms back around his neck, grinding yourself against him. He growled, his hands cupping your ass, lifting you. You used the wall for support and wrapped your legs around him, angling yourself just right. You cried out as he pressed inside, stretching and filling you.

His breath was hot against your neck. "That's my girl," he said softly.

He paused a moment, giving you time to adjust. Then he started to thrust, his rhythm slow and measured, watching the way your expression changed as he fucked you. You moaned, your legs tightening around him, your ankles locking together, trying to pull him closer.

He pumped his hips, burying himself deep inside you. You tilted your head back, exposing the soft flesh of your neck.

It took every bit of control he had not to give in and bite you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, feeling your blood pump just below the surface of your skin. His hips snapped harder, driving into you, focused on fucking you, on drawing more delicious moans and whimpers from sweet lips.

The coil within you grew tighter, the pressure increasing with every movement of his hips. You clung to his jacket, needing something to anchor you, feeling as if you were spinning out of control. He grunted with each thrust, the sound of skin against skin almost drowned out by the blood pumping furiously in your ears.

His eyes never left yours, a predatory look crossing his features, his fingers gripping the swell of your ass, pounding into you with incredible force, your head hitting the wall with each powerful thrust.

It was intense and consuming and you couldn't get enough of him, and neither could he.

You lost track of how many times you'd come, all you knew was the sweet, aching tension was building again and you didn't know if you could handle another. He held you so tight, your body pressed so close to his, his fangs threatening to pierce the delicate skin of your neck. You couldn't stop, you didn't want it to stop.

Then his rhythm faltered, his breathing becoming labored, his hips pumping furiously. He needed a release. It had been a while since he'd experienced such raw, carnal lust.

He could no longer keep himself from drinking from you, he'd waited too long, denied his primal urges. With a snarl, he sunk his fangs into the side of your neck. A guttural cry fell from your lips, your back arching as you came undone, the sudden pain mixed with the pleasure so intense, you felt your vision darkening as you blacked out.

Elijah gripped your thighs, his lips pulling blood from your body, sending your pulse racing, your blood so hot and sweet that he thought he would combust. He let himself go, cumming deep inside of you, your blood in his mouth, the sweetness coating his tongue and rushing into his system. Your body went limp in his arms, your heartbeat slowing.

Sudden panic consumed him, what had he done? The guilt and fear crashed over him in waves. You looked so pale, you were dying in his arms and it was his fault. The rage and self-hatred he had tried so hard to keep in check ripped through him, his true nature unleashed.

But then you opened your eyes, smiling at him dreamily and something inside of him snapped back into place.

Elijah chuckled, still inside of you. He grinned, the edges of his lips curving upwards. He kissed you softly, reverently.

"Holy fuck Elijah," you chuckled, panting slightly, your heart beating erratically, but you felt alive and amazing, and loved.

"You scared me for a moment," he confessed, resting his forehead against yours.

"That was.. You are..," you struggled for words. "Just wow," you laughed.

You held on to him, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He wrapped an arm around you, supporting you, the other stroking the side of your head. You breathed him in, savoring the moment, never wanting it to end. He smiled, nuzzling your cheek, his nose rubbing against your skin.

"Let's go home, I want you all to myself," you murmured, kissing his neck, the taste of him filling you.

He chuckled, his voice a deep rumble. "As you wish."

"We have a lot of catching up to do," you grinned, thinking of all the things you were going to do to him.

Elijah chuckled. "My sweet girl," he murmured, kissing you gently.

The elevator rattled, the emergency lights coming on. Elijah pulled away from you, adjusting your dress, smoothing the fabric. He zipped and buttoned his trousers, straightening his clothes. The panel was broken, slight electrical sparks coming from the metal. Elijah gripped the doors, forcing them open. He stepped out and helped you down. You smoothed your dress, looking at him shyly. He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, leading you out of the building.

"I like it when you lose control, perhaps that was the solution all along," you teased, walking along the street, your fingers intertwined with his.

Elijah laughed. "Perhaps, my darling, you may be right."

And with that, he swept you off your feet and into his arms, carrying you out into the night.

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whiskey-tango-matcha · 22 days

Text

Show & Tell (M, cold)

Mark & Matt are back! In this, Matt has an awful cold and they have a busy night. That's pretty much it lol, there's a good amount of ~drama~ because who doesn't love drama? This takes place a couple months after 'Three', when Matt and Mark are dating but haven't told Greyson or Elijah and I'll be honest I've spent a lot of time on it and don't know if I even like it lmao. I hope you guys do, though!! It might suck, who knows!! Also, there's no sick character POV - it switches between Mark and Greyson's POV.

Ok, onward. Let me know how you guys feel about it lol.

CW: Male snz, cold, contagion mention, coughing, fever.

Show & Tell

“It’s not that I don’t want them to know. You know that.”

Mark gave his boyfriend a sidelong look; did he know that? He wasn’t so sure. “Matt,” he said, treading carefully, “it’s been three months. They’re going to figure it out sooner or later.”

Matt sighed, clearly trying to choose his words carefully. “I know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… I mean, Greyson can be… I don’t know… touchy, I guess, about like, relationship stuff. Especially since the whole… Collin thing. And also, he can just be an asshole about dating within the kitchen. You remember when he caught us kissing.”

“Yeah, but I mean that’s just what you guys do, right? Poke fun at each other? And the Collin thing… That was, like, a year ago, Matt. He’s a grown man.”

There was a pause, then, and Mark knew he’d gone too far. Greyson and Matt’s relationship was way more than boss and employee; Greyson had taken a chance on Matt when no one else would. He’d given him opportunities that Matt couldn’t have dreamed of as a kid, and Matt was always quick to point that out when Mark grumbled about Greyson’s anger, or when he called Matt in on his day off, or the way he made fun of Matt making doe-eyes at Mark. Greyson has been there for me since the moment I met him, he always said. You have to take the good with the bad.

More often than not, Mark found himself rolling his eyes at this statement, or muttering Whatever, babe, under his breath, but he also didn’t want to push his new beau away. If Greyson was a weird non-participatory third in their burgeoning relationship… so be it. He’d put up with it, for Matt.

“Hey, I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean that; I know, you’re right, he’s been through it.” Mark pulled Matt in for a hug, making the other man soften. “I’m just saying,” Mark said, pulling away, “that if he doesn’t already know, he’s going to have to find out eventually. Right?”

Matt shrugged, then begrudgingly nodded. “You’re right, you’re right, just… I don’t know, give me a week. Let me take him out and actually tell him so it’s not just, like, a big joke that he parades through the kitchen. Okay?”

Mark smiled. “Okay. Yes, that works. Thank you, baby.” He swept Matt’s bangs off his face, allowed a frown to settle over his own. “You feel really warm. By the way.”

Without missing a beat, Matt pulled away and ducked into the sleeve of his hoodie. “Hh-! Hh’ITSZH-ue!”

“Bless you.”

“I’m okay,” Matt said in response. “Like I said before, I think it’s just allergies.”

“...Fever-inducing allergies?”

“Honey,” Matt said, pulling a hand down his face, “please drop it. We have like two hundred on the books tonight, it’s not like I could call out or anything.”

“So you feel badly enough to call out?” Mark asked, crossing his arms. Matt sighed, loudly enough for Mark to hear the congestion in his chest rattle.

“No,” Matt said. “I don’t.”

“Mmm.”

“Can we go back to arguing about me telling Greyson and Elijah we’re dating? I’d prefer that over getting the third degree about what is, at most, a cold,” Matt said, rubbing his nose on his sleeve. Mark raised an eyebrow.

“So now it’s a cold. Moments ago, you said it was allergies. What’s it going to be by the time you get to work? Bubonic plague?”

“I was thinking something a little more modern. Maybe scarlet fever. Hh- hh’ISHHH-uhh!” Matt crumpled to the side once again, and Mark sighed.

“Hilarious,” he said, deadpan. “You should take some dayquil, or something.”

“I’m okay, honey, really,” Matt said, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you this evening, okay?”

Mark hesitated; what would a good boyfriend do here? He assumed a good boyfriend would scoop Matt into his arms and place him in bed. A good boyfriend would call in for Matt – hell, call in for both of them so he could take care of his boyfriend – and tell Greyson and Elijah to figure it out, restaurant-be-damned. He’d spoon-feed Matt soup and they’d watch Criminal Minds and talk about who on the show was the most objectively fuckable and they’d fall asleep early and in the morning, Matt would be good as new.

But a good boyfriend would also tell their bosses they were dating; a good boyfriend wouldn’t put the onus on Matt to tell Greyson before Mark told Elijah because Greyson was an objectively harder person to tell. A good boyfriend wouldn’t give Matt shit for being nervous because him telling Greyson was akin to Mark telling his own father he was gay and fuck, Matt didn’t even have a father to tell, you asshole, you inconsiderate piece of shit.

He wasn’t a good boyfriend, that much he knew. So instead of manning up in any way whatsoever, Mark nodded and kissed Matt on his hot forehead. “See you tonight,” he said, and continued to kick himself as Matt trudged out the front door.

***

“They’ll tell us when they’re ready.”

Greyson rolled his eyes so hard that they felt like they might pop out of his head. “Oh c’mon, Lij, that’s such a cop-out,” he said, snapping inventory papers onto a clipboard and clicking a pen open and shut many more times than was necessary. “It’s been, what? Like almost four months since the whole making-out-in-my-bathroom incident? And it’s not like they’re good at hiding it, I think Matt slaps Mark’s ass fifty times a day.”

“Is that really new, though? You slap Matt’s ass fifty times a day,” Elijah said, glancing up from his own, much-better-organized inventory clipboard. “I thought ass-slapping was just par for the course in this kitchen. You’ve created a culture of ass-slapping.”

“That’s within the kitchen boundary, Lij,” Greyson said, his index finger and thumb pressed together and punctuating each word of this statement. “Mark is outside the kitchen boundary. The rules are different.”

Elijah snorted out a laugh. “My mistake,” he said, flipping the first page on his clipboard and examining the second. “I figured that culture extended to the whole restaurant.”

“Damn right your mistake,” Greyson muttered. He glanced back down at his papers, then tossed the clipboard on the desk and snatched Elijah’s out of his hand to toss as well.

“Dude,” Elijah said, “I was using that.”

“Do you think Matt’s scared to tell me?” Greyson asked, ignoring Elijah’s annoyance. “It’s not like I’d care. I mean, the whole thing makes sense, they spend seventy hours a week here together. It’s not like it’s easy to find someone to date outside this place, and trust me, it’s not like he’s missing out on anything in the regular world. Shit, if you were down, I’d start dating you.”

“I’d rather eat a jean jacket than date you,” Elijah said, leaning on an elbow on the desk. “And that’s not even because you don’t have my preferred equipment, it’s because of who you are. Fundamentally. As a person.”

“I just don’t understand why he wouldn’t just tell me,” Greyson said, ignoring Elijah’s statement outright. “Matt’s my dude. He’s my muse. He’s like if I had a kid, but didn’t have to do the gross horrible raising him part. He knows he can tell me anything.”

Elijah sighed, a heavy and resigned sound, and took the bait. “Grey,” he said, “yes, he knows he can tell you anything, but he also knows he’s going to get so much shit from you when he does tell you. I’m sure he’s just trying to spare himself the three weeks of jokes about the two of them dating. Maybe, if you could be serious for five fuckin’ minutes, you could approach him and ask him, hey, are you and Mark dating?” Elijah shrugged, both hands held in front of him as though to say just an idea.

Greyson scoffed, annoyed. “You’re one to talk. It’s not like Mark has told you.”

“Yeah, but Mark and I are coworkers. We don’t have some weird father/son codependent relationship like you two. Plus, Mark is only a talker when he drinks and he hasn’t had more than a glass of wine in front of me since they got together, so he knows I know he’s avoiding the conversation.” Elijah gave Greyson a pointed look then. “I’m sure he’s waiting for Matt to tell you. Dad.”

The chef rolled his eyes again and pushed himself to a standing position. “Fine,” he said. “I’m going to talk to him about it today. And I’ll be serious.”

“Great,” Elijah said, picking his clipboard back up. “I’m happy for both of you.”

Greyson placed a hand on Elijah’s shoulder as he walked out of the office and towards the prep kitchen, a gesture to thank him for the pep talk, and Elijah nodded in understanding. It wasn’t the fact that Matt had a not-so-well-kept secret that Greyson found troubling; it was the fact that he felt like he wasn’t able to tell his boss that hurt Greyson’s feelings. The chef got set up in the prep kitchen, pulled out his chef’s knife, and began sharpening it on his steel. He really thought he’d put it in Matt’s head that he could tell him anything. Apparently he’d been wrong.

As if summoned, Matt picked that exact moment to blow through the back kitchen doors – he was wearing a sweatshirt, despite the fact that it was unseasonably warm, and his hood was up. Greyson drew his eyebrows together, confused.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Greyson called from his prep station. Matt swung around, obviously not expecting to see his boss the moment he walked in, and his face immediately crumpled.

“Hh- hhNGTSHZ-ue!” Matt attempted to stifle a sneeze into his elbow, which backfired immediately. “ITSZZHH-ue! Hh’ITZCHH-ue! HRRSHH-ue!”

Greyson blinked, surprised, as his sous gave into the paroxysm. “Wow,” he said when Matt finally stood upright, clearing his throat. “Bless.”

Matt nodded, swallowed, winced. “Yeah. Thangks,” he said, his voice low and congested. He walked towards the prep station – slunk may have been the more appropriate word – and hoisted his knife bag onto the counter. The next few moves seemed robotic, as though the sous chef were on autopilot; push hoodie off head. Roll up sleeves. Unzip bag. Make eye contact with boss. “What ndeeds to get prepped first?”

Up close, Matt looked like an even bigger pile of hot garbage than he sounded; he was pale – sallow, Greyson thought to himself, then vocab word of the day -, his eyes red-rimmed and laden with bags. His breathing seemed painful, labored, and uneven, and before Greyson could say anything, Matt turned back to his rolled-up sleeve to cough. “Dude,” Greyson said, taking a step back.

“Sorry, sorry,” Matt muttered, getting himself together. He walked to the sink and washed his hands, then turned back to Greyson. “Better?”

“That wasn’t what I meant by ‘dude’,” Greyson said, taking a step towards his sous and slapping a hand on his forehead. “That was ‘dude’ as in ‘dude, you look like fucking shit’.”

Matt wiggled out from under Greyson’s hand, annoyed. “I’mb fine, Chef,” he said. “Tell mbe what needs to get done.”

Greyson rubbed his face and gathered his hair on top of his head, buying time. Obviously, the conversation about him and Mark was off the table for the moment, but were they not allowed to talk about Matt’s very obvious illness, either? “Did you take anything?” Greyson asked, ignoring his sous’ question with one of his own.

“I was running late. Also, I don’t ndeed anythi- ITTTSZZHH-ue! HRSHHH-uh!” Matt folded himself in half to avoid sneezing in Greyson’s face, and collapsed into a coughing fit from the force of them. Greyson pressed his lips together.

“Where’d you pick this shit up?” Greyson asked, patting Matt’s back as the younger man tried to compose himself. “You haven’t been out on the prowl with me in months, so I take no blame.”

It was an attempt – a very obvious one – to get Matt to admit he was at least seeing someone, but either Matt wasn’t taking the bait or he didn’t hear him over his own misery. He cleared his throat and stood to his full height. “Can we please just start cooking? I ndeed a distraction.”

Greyson pressed his lips together; somehow, they’d had a whole conversation without really saying anything, a whole back-and-forth with not one question answered. “Okay,” Greyson said, stepping to the side to let Matt get situated at the prep table. “I’m going to grab some shit from the walk-in. You get set up.”

Matt nodded, obviously grateful, and started setting up his things while Greyson turned towards the walk-in.

Well, he thought to himself, sarcastically. That was productive.

***

“Alright, everyone, so we have 245 on the books toni -”

“HhuhhhITSZHHH-ue! Huh-! HhhRRSHH-oo!”

The servers’ heads popped up from their notes in unison and turned towards the closed kitchen doors, ten yards away. Mark cringed; Elijah raised his eyebrows towards Greyson, and the Executive Chef sighed and stood. “I’m gonna go check and make sure he didn’t burst a blood vessel,” he joked, prompting a collective giggle from the servers. Mark felt his heart sink deep into the pit of his stomach.

At his apartment this morning, Matt had clearly been coming down with something. Since he’d arrived at work, it was clear that whatever it was had settled in nicely; Mark had only been at work for two hours, but in those he’d heard Matt sneeze more than he had the entirety of their relationship.

“Jesus,” Mark had said when he first saw Matt, doubled over behind the prep table. “That really went from zero to a hundred. I just saw you, like, four hours ago.”

Matt had attempted to clear his throat before addressing his boyfriend: “Yeah, I guess,” he said, pushing the sleeves of his hoodie down to his wrists and shivering. Mark wanted desperately to tell him to go lay down in a booth or something – better yet, to tell him to go home and go to bed – but he knew he couldn’t do either.

“Can I get you some tea?” he asked instead, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from feeling Matt’s face for fever. Matt shook his head.

“’M fine,” he managed, picking his knife back up and wiping his hands on the front of his apron. “’S just a stupid cold.”

That had been about as far as their conversation had gone; Mark had been whisked away by Elijah to help set the floor up, and Matt had been forced to put his head back down and continue prepping. Normally, Matt would’ve been in pre-shift with the rest of the team, but Greyson had explained when everyone sat down that he was attempting to gain his second wind in the office and wouldn’t be joining.

“Anyway,” Mark continued, addressing the servers while Greyson stood to check on Matt, “like I said: 245 on the books. We do have a few VIPs…”

The servers jotted down what they needed to, and Mark finished his speech on autopilot. Elijah said something about uniforms being cleaned and pressed, and Greyson came back to join them all after a minute or two spent in the kitchen. When pre-shift ended, Greyson stopped Mark from walking away with the rest of the front of house.

“Mark,” Greyson said as the servers went to eat family meal, “hold back a second.”

Mark could feel himself immediately break into a cold sweat; Greyson never wanted to talk to him after pre-shift. Had he fucked up somehow? He knew they were too busy – overbooked, really – but Elijah had approved it. Said they needed the extra covers, since they’d be closed for a week next month. Maybe Elijah hadn’t told Greyson he’d approved the overbooking? Maybe -

“Hey, I just – I wanted to talk to you about Matt,” Greyson said when the servers had all exited to the kitchen. Mark swallowed, his throat dry. Oh.

“What about him?” Mark asked, his heart beating in his temples. Greyson huffed out a little laugh.

“You guys are dating,” he said – not a question. A statement. Mark’s face flamed.

“Did he – have you guys talked?” he asked, feeling his throat close. Greyson shook his head, a smile blooming on his face.

“Nope,” he said, palming Mark’s shoulder. “But now we don’t need to. Elijah!” he called into the kitchen, and Mark felt himself fly into action. He stumbled in front of Greyson before the chef could walk through the kitchen doors.

“Chef,” he said, holding his arms out so Greyson couldn’t get by, “you can’t tell Matt that you know. Seriously, he’ll kill me, he – I mean, he wanted to tell you himself, he said he was going to, like, sit you down and tell you and -”

“Sit me down? He’s not breaking up with me to be with you, I’m so fuckin’ confused why you guys haven’t just told us, it’s not like it’s a big deal -”

“It’s a big deal to him,” Mark said, cutting Greyson off. “It’s a big deal to Matt. I think – fuck, I don’t know, Chef, I think it’s like… you’re his person he gets to tell. You know? And he’s not feeling well and we kind of argued about it this morning and… please,” Mark said, biting his cheek to keep from crying. “Please, Chef. Just… he’ll tell you. Just wait for him to tell you.”

Greyson closed his eyes and sighed. “Fine. Okay. I’ll wait till the end of the week,” he said, moving Mark’s arm to get into the kitchen. “But if he hasn’t said anything by then, I’m saying something.”

Mark just nodded, and let Greyson by. You fucking moron, he chided himself. You absolute asshole. You gave it away, Matt is going to be so fucking disappointed, you’re such a dick, you can’t even let him have this one fucking thing. You just have to fuck everything up somehow. What the fuck is wrong with you?

What the FUCK is wrong with you?

***

Greyson would have been hard-pressed to think of a more difficult service than this one was turning out to be.

It had started fine; the flow of the evening was laid out well, the first turn went off basically without a hitch. Matt was on middle, and had loaded up on every medicine the office pharmacy had to offer, so while he was a little… high, honestly, he was at least in good spirits and able to do his job.

“We doing okay back there, everyone?” Greyson asked, peeking past the board filled with tickets to acknowledge his cooks, and Matt.

“Yes, Chef,” they answered – all except Matt, who hooted as though Greyson was a singer asking his audience how everyone was feeling out there. Greyson bit his cheek to keep from laughing.

“Only two hundred covers to go!” Greyson shouted as the printer spat out yet another ticket. “Order in, two salmon, three pork.”

About sixty covers in, things began to turn; the servers began to slow down, sending their food in as fire-alls instead of coursed out. The bar became backed up, so Mark was taking bartop guest’s orders and ringing them all in at once, sending a huge wave of tickets in at once – annoying, sure, but something they could handle. But then, tickets stopped coming in altogether – first, for five minutes. Then seven. Then ten.

“Elijah!” Greyson called into the dining room, not caring if the guests heard. The GM ran in at the sound of his name. “The fuck is going on, dude? We have ZERO tickets on the board.”

Elijah winced. “Yeah,” he said, “everyone is camping. We have like thirty people waiting to sit.” Greyson blinked.

“You’re kidding.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not.”

“So you’re telling me, at least thirty people are going to sit down all at once. And order all at once.”

Elijah nodded, solemn. “I wish I wasn’t, but yes, Chef, that’s what I’m telling you.”

Of course, by the time the first set of guests got up and the second set sat down, they had a new problem: Matt.

It was seven o’clock; Matt had taken his last dose of medicine at four, and sitting around waiting on tickets to come rolling in again had stopped the flow of adrenaline. His misery seemed to have caught up with him completely just as the tickets started printing again.

“Order in,” Greyson called for the tenth time in three minutes, “a scallop, three filets, and a venison no dairy.”

“Heard, Che – HTSHH-uh!” Matt wrenched to the side to sneeze into the sleeve of his chef’s coat, an angry, grating sound that made the cooks wince. He coughed painfully into his shoulder, obviously trying to hold back. Greyson bit his cheek.

“Bless, Chef,” he called over the line, pulling yet another stream of tickets. “Christ… ok, guys, I’m going to read all these but let’s just focus on what I just called for now, these people… I mean, they’re going to have to wait.”

“Yes, Chef,” the cooks called – all except Matt. Instead of the goofy whoops from earlier in the evening, Matt responded by ducking beneath the line.

“HRRSHH! Huh-! Hh’ITZZHH-uh! NGTSHZZH-ue! Hh… hhhuh-ITZSHH-ue!” Matt covered his head with his arms, careful not to spray them, and sneezed into his lap until he sounded hoarse. Greyson could hear him attempt to sniffle, to no avail. He stood, shakily, and cleared his throat. “Heard, Chef,” he whispered, his voice hanging on by a thread.

Greyson pressed his lips together, feeling the temperature of his blood raising. God, this fucking kid – he should’ve stayed home, what good was it doing anyone having him here, sneezing himself hoarse, coughing til he was dizzy, probably infecting all the cooks and most likely over or under cooking all the fish. Greyson wanted to snap, Pull it together, but held back.

“Bless, Chef,” he called again, pointedly. Matt just nodded, dazed.

“Go ahead and call the ndext tickets, Chef,” Matt croaked. Greyson sighed, looked up, and yanked the tickets off the printer.

“Order in,” he said again, and again, and again.

***

The dining room was a fucking disaster.

Mark’s head felt like it was screwed on backwards; he could feel himself failing, and with every misstep he hated himself more. Can’t you put the tickets in right? Tracy asked you to help take the order for 32, have you gotten over there? This bar is filled with drinks, the hell are you doing?

If the dining room wasn’t bad enough, in the kitchen Greyson was clearly about to be sent straight over the edge.

“I need runners!” he called from expo, loud enough for everyone in the dining room to hear. Mark cringed, dropped what he was doing, and ran into the kitchen. The printer wouldn’t stop; the window was filled with plates, and the servers were tripping over themselves to get the food onto trays and out into the dining room.

“Mark! Take these, table 24,” Greyson said, pressing three scorching-hot plates into the floor manager’s hands. “And come right back, this fucking food is going to go bad in about three seconds. Order in!”

Mark took the food, dropped it, assessed the red marks on his hands and wrists and headed back to the kitchen. All of this would’ve been par for the course for a Saturday night, really, if not for -

“HTTSHH! HRRRSHH-uh! Hh’NGTTSZHH-ue!”

Matt.

The whole staff could tell he was fading fast. It was eight-thirty, and since about seven he hadn’t managed to go more than a couple minutes without collapsing into a fit of sneezes or coughs. His voice was completely gone at this point, and Mark could tell – even from ten feet away – that he had a pretty significant fever. All of this seemed to just further enrage Greyson.

“Chef,” Greyson called behind the line. “Get your third wind, I’m fucking dying up here I need this food out now! Order in, three salmon, two filets!”

“Yes, Chef,” Matt called, his voice so mangled Mark wasn’t sure how he’d even managed to get the words out. God, this was bad. This was so fucking bad.

***

There was no way they were going to get through all these tickets. There was just no fucking way.

It all felt like a nightmare at this point; Greyson was up to his elbows in tickets that just kept flowing. The food was dying in the windows, servers were grabbing shit that wasn’t theirs and fucking up what little flow they had going. Elijah was pouring free wine because ticket times were over forty minutes. And Matt was completely and totally stick-a-fork-in-him done.

At nine-fifteen, with twenty tickets on the board, Greyson looked up to ask his sous if table 55 was going to be up anytime soon; only to see Matt, caught in pre-sneeze torture with a knife in his right hand, moments away from splitting his left hand open.

“Matt!” Greyson screamed, and the sous chef snapped out of his daze and dropped the knife onto the cutting board. He gasped at the realization that he’d been millimeters away from maiming himself.

Enough is enough, Greyson thought to himself. “Mark!” he called into the dining room, not caring who could hear him. “Come and get your biohazard boyfriend and take him fucking home!”

The kitchen went completely silent. Matt blinked, clearly trying to unpack what he’d just heard, before wrenching to the side. “HHHITSZZHH-ue!”

Mark and Elijah burst into the kitchen then; tickets lined the board. Food lined the window. Matt was crouched down behind the line, and Greyson’s eyes were wild.

“Take him home,” Greyson said, making eye contact with Mark. “Or to urgent care. Or maybe straight to the cemetery. I don’t care where he goes, but he needs to get off my line.”

Mark nodded, and stepped behind the line to gather Matt, who slumped into his boyfriend’s arms. Greyson watched Mark hold Matt close, felt his chest contract when he heard his sous chef whisper, “Baby, I don’t feel good,” into his boyfriend’s chest.

“Go,” Greyson insisted. Mark helped Matt off the line, lead him into the office and pulled his hoodie over his chef’s coat, and walked him towards the back exit. Thank you, Mark mouthed to Greyson, who just nodded in response.

Once they were through the back doors, Elijah stepped forward. “Get back there and help them,” he said. “I’ll do expo. We’ll get through it.”

“We always do,” Greyson muttered, and pushed past his cooks to get to the middle of the line. “Alright: let’s land this fuckin’ bitch of a night in the harbor.”

***

The quiet calm of Matt’s apartment was in such direct opposition to the prior evening at work that Mark felt he might actually have whiplash.

The floor manager checked his phone for the tenth time since he’d woken up twenty minutes before. Elijah, via text, had filled him in about what happened after he and Matt left; it had been a shit show, but they’d gotten it done. There had been worse nights, Elijah said, though Mark couldn’t remember one. His boss let him know that he’d closed the restaurant for the day, to give everyone a well-deserved break. Thank God.

Greyson had texted both Mark and Matt apologizing for outing their relationship, and told Matt he could take as much time off as he needed – not that Matt had seen it yet. The sous chef had passed out the second his head hit the pillow the night previous, and he hadn’t stirred in over twelve hours.

Mark had responded to Greyson; it’s all good, Chef, though he wasn’t sure he really believed himself. He was glad that Greyson had told Mark to step up, to get Matt out and take care of him. But Matt… fuck, he was going to be upset when he woke up.

Speaking of which.

“Has anyone ever told you you text really loud?” Matt croaked quietly over Mark’s shoulder. Mark slammed his phone onto the bed and rolled over to face his boyfriend.

“No, I don’t think I’ve gotten that one before,” Mark said, caressing Matt’s face. Matt smiled, a little sadly. “How’re you feeling?”

“Mmm. Like hot fuckigg garbage,” Matt whispered, closing his eyes. “Tired. Shitty. Fuckigg embarrassed.”

Mark pressed his lips together; he wasn’t sure what to say. He settled on: “Can I make you some tea?”

Matt huffed out a little laugh that turned into a nasty-sounding cough. “In a mbinute,” he said, “I just wandt to lay with you for now.”

So they did. A silence fell over the two of them – Mark stroking Matt’s hot face, Matt with his eyes closed. After a few minutes, Matt opened his red, rheumy eyes. “So, he kndows.”

Mark felt his heart sink. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess he does.”

Silence surrounded them again. “I guess I should’ve kndown,” Matt said.

“I’m sorry,” Mark said. Matt smiled a little.

“You were right,” he teased. “You’re always right.”

“I’m rarely right,” Mark corrected. “But I think we made it pretty obvious.”

“Mmm,” Matt hummed again. A beat went by where neither of them said anything, until Matt’s body took over. “HHRSSHH-uhhh!” he sneezed, exhausted, into his hand and wiped it on the comforter. Mark couldn’t help but laugh.

“Bless you,” he said. Matt smiled, eyes closed.

“You’re gonna get so sigck,” he muttered, on the edge of sleep again already.

“Yeah,” Mark said, pressing a soft kiss onto his boyfriend’s lips. “That sounds accurate.”

Matt opened his eyes, slowly. “You kndow I love you. Right?”

A firework lodged itself into Mark’s aorta, blew his heart right to bits. “Really?” he asked, the wrong answer, but his first reaction all the same. Matt laughed in earnest.

“Really,” he said, closing his eyes again.

“I love you, Matt. God, I love you,” Mark said, kissing Matt’s lips again. “I’m sorry about last night. I love you. Thank you. I love you.”

Matt opened one eye this time, touched Mark’s face, and closed it again. “Thangk you,” he murmured. “’M gonna go back to sleep ndow. If that’s cool with you.”

“Go to sleep, baby,” Mark said, his heart so full he was sure it would burst. “I love you.”

And even though Matt was already snoring by the time he had said it again, he couldn’t seem to stop muttering it in time with his boyfriend’s snores. I love you. I love you. I love you.

#whiskeyswriting #snz #sickfic #snzfic #snzblr #coldfic #male cold #male snz #contagion #coughing #fever #ugghhhhh do i like this??? idk. i think it might suck honestly LMAOOOO #whatever!!!! it's out there now sooooo there's that

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klausysworld · 1 year

Note

Any chance of something With Klaus and reader, where reader is worried about how much time Klaus and Cami spend together, but Klaus plus everyone tells her not to worry. It their anniversary and reader is all ready for the night out that Klaus has planned but Klaus doesn’t show and comes home to find reader asleep on their bed still dressed in her gorgeous dress it then he remembers their anniversary.

You were with Cami

Pt 2

For weeks i had listened to the entire Mikaelson family had been persuading me that Klaus was loyal and would never do anything to harm me.

See he’d been spending the majority of his time with his new friend Camille, i’ve met her a few times and she’s so unbelievably nice. Like she’s polite, smiles, gives her perfect opinions and makes everything laugh. And just to top it off she likes me, decided we should be friends too. We even went out for lunch. She’s lovely. I would want her too. And i hate her for that.

It’s wrong to be mad at her but she must know that she’s some what harming mine and Klaus’s relationship. You can’t be giggling at every little thing he says with your hand on his bicep without knowing that you’re flirting.

One time she kissed his cheek right in front of me, she gave me such a kind smile i would have looked like a dick if i didn’t return it. When i brought it up to Klaus he told me i was being dramatic and needed to ‘calm down’

Somehow i’m not allowed to talk to a single being of the male community but if i get upset over him dancing with a gorgeous blond then i’m being jealous and pathetic. I thought at least Elijah would back me up being the ‘feminist’ he says he is but noooo “Niklaus loves you y/n, you’re imagining things. You’re hid redemption and you can’t be thinking silly things, it will ruin your relationship”

Well bet they weren’t prepared for me storming through the compound in a very expensive body con dress. One i had spent hours choosing so that my own boyfriend or whatever he was meant to be would notice me

See he had asked me to meet him at this restaurant and let me just say it was nice restaurant with a lot of snobs sat in it. Lets imagine the immense embarrassment i felt when i sat waiting at a table for over 4 hours. Thankfully the waiter was sympathetic and felt bad so he gave me some free drinks. I actually ended up having a pretty good chat with him, his fiancé had left him a week before their wedding, i think we both cried a little too much and the people in there did not like us.

Once the place closed i came back to the compound and the second i stepped foot inside it seemed to hit me again. He left me alone, no text, no call, no excuses. I was holding together until the other Mikaelsons came into view and Rebekah just had to mention him

“where’s Nik? i thought you two would’ve been back ages ago”

and i burst into tears. I saw the panic in all their faces as they quickly went to comfort me. Rebekah wrapped her arm around me and Kol took my hand but i shoved both of them off

“no! none of you get to pretend you care anymore, you all knew didn’t you? you knew he was with her, knew he wouldn’t come to be with me because why would he anymore!? And i swear if anyone of you says that i make him a better person i think i might just scream, i am not his redemption and i don’t mean anything to him anymore, your entire family is one big lie, you’re all liars and i hate all of you, i’m staying the night and that’s only because i have drank way too much to be driving but i don’t want any of you saying goodbye because i will be gone by the time you wake up and yes Elijah i know you get up fucking early” half of my words were definitely slurred but i think the message was clear regardless as i made my way upstairs and collapsed on Klaus and i’s bed. The bed that i thought we would both come back to, instead i was cold, alone and drunk.

———————————————————————

(third person)

Klaus had just got home to three nervous siblings. Elijah was pacing the length of the living area while Kol chugged his scotch and Rebekah chewed at her once perfectly manicured nails. Klaus narrowed his eyes as they all froze upon his arrival

“who did something stupid?” he asked with a sigh and Kol hesitantly raised his hand

“don’t dagger me but um i think you did…”

“what?”

“i’d check upstairs if i were you”

and so he did

Klaus turned the light on only to find his love curled up in a beautiful tight dress and a tear stained face. It took him a minute before he finally realised what had happened

“no no no no” he whispered as he lifted her passed out body, the smell of alcohol was strong as he held her in his arms

“oh my love, please forgive me” he uttered as he peppered her face with kisses

“i’m so sorry” he told her despite her unconscious state.

“you look so gorgeous sweetheart, you look like an angel” he whispered rocking her gently

“i’m going to make this all up to you when you wake up, i promise you y/n, i love you so so much” he carefully removed her dress and slipped one of his shirts onto her, he wiped her once flawless makeup off of her face

“i’m so sorry” he repeated continuously while getting her ready, slipping her heels from her feet and taking out her elegantly styled hair before brushing it through and plaiting it for her. He didn’t bother changing his clothes as he got into bed and held her as close to him as he could

“i’m so sorry i wasn’t with you”

“you were with Cami” she tiredly uttered, still pretty much unconscious though that didn’t stop the flow of tears in her sleep. His heart hurt as he heard her broken voice

“i’ll never speak to her again, i’ll never see her again” he promised both her and himself

“i love you” he muttered kissing her lips softly

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storiesforallfandoms · 1 year

Text

he already has my approval ~ taron egerton

word count: 4393

request?: no

description: in which her dad keeps trying to set her up with her celebrity crush, who just so happens to be playing him in a biopic

pairing: taron egerton x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two, three)

The first time I met Taron was on the red carpet for Kingsman: The Golden Circle, and it did not go as well as I had wished it would’ve.

I had seen the first movie in theaters when it came out and immediately developed a crush on Eggsy, and, in turn, on his actor Taron. When dad was offered a cameo in the sequel, I think I was more excited than he was. I begged dad basically every day to let me go to set with him, but I was in college at the time and neither of my dads would let me miss that much time to travel just to meet my celebrity crush. It felt unfair at the time, but they had a point in the long run.

When the day of the premiere came around, dad took me as his plus one to the red carpet. I was buzzing with excitement the entire day as dad’s stylists came in to help us get ready for the night, but the minute our ride pulled up to the red carpet my excitement turned to nervousness. There was no reason for me to be so nervous. I had been to huge events like this before, and of course I had met famous people plenty of times. But there was something about meeting my actual celebrity crush that made me feel like a high schooler who was about to go on her first date.

Dad introduced me to Taron, because of course he did. Fatherhood never changed who dad was, and he was shithead, cocky, lived to tease everyone in his life Elton John. I always knew it was a bad idea to tell dad about my crush on Taron, but I never regretted it more than when I heard him shout across the red carpet, “Taron, darling, come here!”

He looked like the most handsome man in the entire world dressed in his suit, his smile lighting up his face as he approached us. That moment was when I realized he was real. He wasn’t just a character on my screen; he was an actual real person. And now he was stood in front of me. So close that I could smell his cologne, and boy, did it ever smell good.

“Taron, I want you to meet my daughter (Y/N),” dad said, gesturing to me. I was still in such awe by his beauty that I almost forgot who I even was.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, (Y/N),” Taron said as he shook my hand. “Elton has spoke very highly of you.”

My brain was definitely short circuiting. Hearing him say my name was one thing, but then for him to also say that he’s heard a lot about me from dad also contributed to it. When I realized I was just stood there staring at him like an idiot, I felt embarrassment wash over me. I tried to force myself to say something, but it was like I completely forgot how to speak English.

“She’s a little shy because she has a crush on you.”

I turned to look at dad in disbelief. If there was a higher power, They would do me a favor and open up the floor to swallow me whole and take me away from this entire situation.

I made my escape before Taron could say anything. I turned away from the two of them and walked away as quickly as possible.

The memory haunted my nightmares for a while afterwards. Even after I managed to forget about it for the most part, the intrusive thought would pop into my mind from time to time just to make me cringe. I could barley ever watch Taron’s movies anymore without thinking about that moment, which was hard since I still had such a big crush on him.

A year later, I was on set with dad and papa for the movie papa was producing about dad. Papa was so excited, as he was making the movie as a gift to dad. Papa had complete creative freedom and dad was able to give as much input as he wanted. When filming started, the two of them wanted to bring me, Zachary, and Elijah on set to watch some of the filming. They hadn’t told me much about the movie just yet, but papa’s excitement was contagious enough that I was feeling it, too.

“We’re filming the Troubadour scene today,” papa was telling us. “Full 70s aesthetic. You guys are gonna feel like you were really there to see your dad’s first ever solo performance.”

“Do I get any 70s outfits once you guys are done filming?” I asked.

“Darling, you know we have a closet full of all my favorite outfits from those days,” dad said. “You’re free to go through it as you please. It’ll be the real deal, not some cheaply made replicas.”

“Hey! You’re the one who approved of Taron’s wardrobe!” papa said with a chuckle.

The mention of his name made me stop in my tracks. “Wait...whose wardrobe?”

Both of them looked at me, confused by my reaction. “Taron, honey,” papa said. “That’s who’s playing dad in the movie. You didn’t know that?”

Memories from the year before came rushing back. I could not see him again or else I may just turn into an embarrassment puddle at his feet. I especially couldn’t be here with dad and have a potential repeat of the situation.

As if reading my thoughts, dad walked up to me and gently took my hand in his. “Honey, it’s been a year. He’s not going to remember.”

“But what if he does?” I asked. “God, he probably thinks I’m crazy after our first encounter. I can’t watch the filming.”

“Hey, hey, calm down sweetheart,” papa said. “You’re working yourself up. It’s okay. If you feel uncomfortable you don’t have to watch, but I don’t think it’ll be as bad as you’re expecting.”

I took a couple deep breaths to calm myself down. I wanted to be there and support both of my dads on this project they were both so excited over. I knew they were right and Taron likely didn’t even remember our first encounter, but I still couldn’t shake this pre-embarrassment feeling about seeing him again.

I sucked it up and followed them to the Troubadour set. There were many extras dressed in 70s clothes standing around the stage. The general murmur of the crowd turned into an excited one as people began to notice dad walking onto the set. I couldn’t see Taron anywhere, but I did recognize Richard Madden talking to the movie’s director, Dex Fletcher. Zachary was tightly holding my hand, trying to hide behind me. I knew the crowd was likely making him nervous, so I squeezed his hand and picked him up.

“Lead actor walking the set!”

I felt my body tense as everyone turned to see Taron taking the stage. He was wearing a pair of white overalls and a navy blue shirt with silver stars. He had on a wig that looked like dad’s hair from this time period and a pair of thick framed glasses that matched his overalls. He looked really good, even if he was dressed as my dad.

It took my brain a moment to register that he was walking towards us. I felt the panic return, but I tried my best to play it cool.

“It’s like looking in a mirror,” dad said as he embraced Taron. “I still have this outfit I’m pretty sure. I was just telling (Y/N) that I still have all my favorite outfits back home going all the way back to this very first performance.”

At the mention of my name, Taron’s eyes landed on me. I tried not to crumple under his gaze, and kept the smile on my face.

“Hey,” Taron said. “Good to see you again.”

“Good to see you, too,” I said, surprisingly myself with how confident i sounded.

“Who is this little guy?” Taron asked, referring to Zachary. The young boy buried his face in my neck, peaking one eye up at Taron.

“This is Zachary,” I said. “Z, this is Taron. Doesn’t he look like daddy?”

Taron struck a pose for Zachary, who seemed to warm up slightly but not a lot.

“What do you think, Elijah?” papa asked the youngest boy. “Do you think Taron looks like daddy?”

Elijah shook his head. “Daddy is old!”

We burst out into laughter as dad gave Elijah a mocked offended look. Elijah squealed as dad picked him up and began tickling his sides. Zachary was still a bit hesitant, but I could feel his body shaking as he chuckled in my arms.

“Come on, Rocket Man, we gotta start filming,” Dex called to Taron.

Taron made his way onto the set stage. Quiet was called and a hush fell over the room. The minute Dex called action, music filled the silence. One of dad’s songs, his least favorite yet one of his most popular ones, began to play. Except it wasn’t dad singing it, it was Taron’s voice. I was a little shocked to hear him singing instead of there being a backing track of dad’s music, but I had to admit he was an amazing singer. It was a fantastic choice they made. His singing voice was amazing and it made the movie have more of a fantastical musical vibe, instead of just a movie with dad’s voice dubbed over for the music.

I tried to get Zachary out of his shell more by dancing with him while the music was playing. We were not strangers to dad’s music. The three of us had seen dad perform on numerous occasions. I figured the familiarity of the music, plus the goofy dancing would definitely help with his nervousness. And I was right for the most part; Zachary came out of his nervous cocoon eventually and started dancing with me. By the time Dex called cut on the scene, Zachary felt comfortable enough to be put back down on to the floor and followed dad and papa to meet Jamie Bell, who was playing Uncle Bernie.

“Seems he enjoyed the show.”

I jumped at the sound of Taron’s voice so suddenly. He was laughing at my reaction as I turned back to him, my heart beating a million beats per second just having him so close to me.

“I think he just needed some time to warm up to being around so many people,” I said. “Usually when we go to dad’s shows we’re in a special VIP area where it’s just the three of us and papa, so he’s not used to so many people and so much attention being on him.”

“I get that. He’s only young. Doesn’t fully understand how well loved his dad is.”

“I don’t think I even fully understand it, and I’m in my mid 20s,” I said.

Taron chuckled and I couldn’t help but smile too. The realization of his realness was starting to wash over me again. He was actually here, stood in front of me, talking to me. He was a real person!

“Listen,” Taron said, “I wanted to talk about the first time we met.”

I felt my heart drop to my stomach. I tried not to let my embarrassment show too much. Maybe if I pretended I didn’t even remember, we could just move on from the entire situation and pretend like it never happened.

“I’m sorry it went the way that it did,” he continued. “I know you were embarrassed about what your dad said. I know Elton meant no harm, and he was just trying to tease you because...well, he’s Elton John, but it really wasn’t fair of him to say that to me when we were first meeting. I could tell by your face that that wasn’t exactly the way you wanted our first meeting to go.”

I was a little surprised by what he was saying. I don’t know why I was expecting for him to say something that would make the situation worse, like maybe calling me out on my crush and saying something about it. He seemed like a really nice guy, not the type to make someone feel bad. But I guess, after having an entire year to let that embarrassing moment stew, I just expected the worst if I ever met him again.

“I appreciate you saying that,” I said. “It definitely was not the way I wanted to meet the guy I had such a big crush on. I think dad expects stuff like that to wash over me like water off a duck’s back because of who he is and how many famous people I’ve met and am close to, but his status never makes those types of interactions easier. Again, especially when meeting someone that I was crushing so hard on.”

Taron was giving me a look that I wasn’t sure how to read at first. “Was?”

My brows furrowed together. “Hmm?”

“You said ‘someone I was crushing on’. As in you’re not anymore?”

I wasn’t sure why that was the part he was focusing on. I opened my mouth to respond, but Dex called to Taron again. Taron looked at me and winked behind the thick framed glasses before making his way back to set to start filming again. And it was with that wink that I could not handle anymore and finally had to sit myself down.

~~~~~~

I kept coming to set the next few weeks. At first it was only one day out of the week for a couple of hours, but soon enough I was tagging along with dad and papa every day. I tried to tell them it was because I was enjoying watching the movie being filmed, and getting to relive these big moments with dad, but they both knew that wasn’t the truth. They knew I was going because I wanted to see Taron.

We had gotten to talking a lot in between takes when I was on set. About everything and anything really. It started with just getting to know each other, but eventually it blossomed into talking about whatever was on our minds. Sometimes it was about the movie, sometimes it wasn’t. Either way, we just got to know one another. And eventually, my “celebrity crush” became a real one.

I knew my dads could see what was going on, but they didn’t bring it up. I figured that was mostly because of how my first interaction with Taron went and dad didn’t want to risk embarrassing me like that again. Which, I did appreciate. I felt like a friendship was being built with Taron and I didn’t want that to be risked with fatherly embarrassment to the extreme, even though I knew that wasn’t dad’s intentions.

One day, we walked on set and I was surprised to see Taron was nowhere in sight. Instead, we walked into a setup that looked like great grandma Ivy’s apartment that I had seen in plenty of dad’s baby pictures. There were three different actors than normal on set, one I recognized as Bryce Dallas Howard and one young boy I recognized to be dressed up the way dad had been when he was that age. I realized pretty quickly that today was probably mostly shooting scenes of flashbacks from dad’s childhood, which caused me to feel disappointed realizing that I likely wouldn’t be seeing Taron today.

I was sat in my usual seat (because yes, I had visited so often that I was given a seat with my name on it) watching the set up for the scene when dad came over and sat next to me, dramatically sighing as his body settled into the chair.

“These old bones can hardly sit down anymore,” he said.

I smiled at him. “Oh, please. You’re hardly that old, dad. Besides, we both know that after everything you’ve gone through, you’re going to outlive us all.”

“A man can only hope.” We laughed together. Dad put an arm around my shoulder and leaned into me. “Taron’s in his trailer, you know.”

“Oh?” I said, hoping I didn’t seem as excited by this information as I was. “He’s filming later on then?”

“Yeah, way later on this evening. David said that Taron showed up way earlier than he needed to claiming that he thought his call time was this morning, not this evening.” I raised an eyebrow at him, silently telling him to say whatever it was he was trying to say. “I don’t think that was the case, though.”

“Clearly.”

“I think he came here early hoping to see you.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “I think you’re being a little ambitious there dad.”

“About as ambitious as I would be to say that you show up every day so you can see him, too?” When I didn’t respond to that, dad just laughed. “I see things, (Y/N). My eyes may be old, but they can still see things that no one else sees.”

“And what is it that you see with me and Taron?”

“I see a young man who is enamored by a young woman, and a young woman who feels the same way. I also see two cowards who are too afraid to confess their feelings to one another.”

I playfully nudged him with my elbow, to which he dramatically clutched his stomach and acted like I had shot him or something.

“I’m not saying that Taron feels anything for me,” I said, “because I don’t think he does. I think he’s just being friendly with someone that he considers to be a friend. But, if what you’re saying is right and he does have romantic interest in me, maybe the reason why he won’t admit it is because he’s too afraid to? I mean, my dad is Elton John after all. That’s a pretty big name to have as a potential father-in-law.”

“Hey now, I didn’t say anything about marrying you off to the man.” I smiled and shook my head. This really was just an every day thing with dad. He loved being a father, but I think he loved being a nuisance more than that. Papa always warned him he would regret that when Zachary, Elijah, and I started to pick up on his habits. “But both of you know that Taron has my approval if he does want to pursue you romantically. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have even been cast in this movie!”

“You cast him because he’s a good actor!”

“Oh, that was only part of it. The other part was so that you two could have a do-over with your meeting, since I ruined the last one.”

I put my head on dad’s shoulder. “You didn’t ruin it. You just embarrassed me beyond belief, but that’s what a father does.”

Dad gave me a small squeeze before pulling me away from him. “Go to his trailer. Have a few moments alone.”

“Give you a few grandkids?”

He pushed me away, which caused me to laugh hysterically.

“Darling, I may be old but I am certainly not that old,” he said. “And, again, I said I approve of him. Not that you two need to get married and pop out babies right away. Go on a few dates first, for the love of God.”

I stood from my chair, still laughing. Dad tried to glare at me, but he couldn’t. This was just our relationship.

I made my way out of the set before they started filming so that I wouldn’t be disrupting anything. All the trailers were grouped together in the lot, luckily with signs on them to label what or whose trailer they were. Taron’s was the furthest on the lot, with a theatrical gold star stuck to the door with his name on it. Part of me figured this was dad’s doing, but the other part of me would believe that it was Dex’s doing, too. Papa truly couldn’t have chosen a better director to capture dad’s personality and aesthetic than Dex.

My heart was pounding so loud that I thought Taron would hear it before I even knocked. I took a deep breath and pushed myself to knock before I got too nervous and ran away instead. There was a brief rustling in the trailer before the door opened, revealing Taron in a pair of black and gold hot pants, a gold jacket that was left unzipped so I could see his entire torso and chest, and heeled shoes with gold tips and gold wings on the side. I wasn’t sure where to look first. My eyes naturally lingered on his chest, his coarse chest hair a welcoming sight, but I couldn’t help but glance lower at his thighs in those hot pants, too. Not to mention the bulge -

“Shit,” Taron breathed, a panicked look in his eyes. “Sorry, uh, I didn’t expect...I thought it might’ve been someone from the set. I’m just...uh...”

“In costume, I would assume,” I said, trying to pretend like I was looking at his shoes and not another area lower on his body.

“Yeah,” he said. His face was starting to turn bright read. “It’s for a scene later on...way later on. I’m - I was early today, so they already put me through costume and makeup.” He cleared his throat and ran his hands through his hair. “Do you, um, do you want to come in?”

I nodded, unsure if I could even form any words. He stepped aside to let me into his trailer. He still looked flustered by my sudden appearance, which I thought was cute.

“Don’t be sorry, by the way,” I told him. “I don’t mind this eye full that I’m getting. Quite the opposite, really.”

That only made him more flustered, and I couldn’t help but smirk at that reaction.

“You’re a lot like your dad,” he commented. “He said something similar while we were filming Kingsman a few years ago.”

“We Furnish-Johns have good taste in men.”

I sat down on the couch of his trailer and he sat across from me. I tried not to be too obvious with my gawking, but it was hard not to look at him. God, was he ever attractive. And here he was, sat next to me, practically naked, and all flustered because I had caught him this way. I felt like I should be feeling a similar way, but knowing that I was the one who had made him feel that way just made me feel so cocky instead.

“I didn’t think you were on set today,” I told him. “I showed up and didn’t see you or Jamie or Richard.”

“We’re filming a couple smaller scenes later on to end the day. Dex wanted to film all of the flashback shots of your dad before he was Elton John today, just to get that out of the way.”

“You got here really early for that. It’s not even noon, and your scenes are this evening papa said.”

Taron shrugged. “I got the wrong call time.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “By over 12 hours?”

He shrugged again, but didn’t offer any further explanation.

I took a deep breath, once again willing that cockiness to stay long enough so that I could say what I wanted to say without losing my nerve. “Remember the first day on set where we talked about the first time we met, and you made a point of asking me about my crush on you.”

Taron nodded. “Yeah. You made it seem like you didn’t feel that way anymore.”

“Yeah, I did. Because I thought I would scare you away if I admitted that I did still like you that way.” I was moving towards him now, closing the already smaller space between us. “That I do still like you that way, if you get what I’m saying.”

We were so close that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. He was looking down at me in a way that I could only ever dream of having Taron Egerton look at me like. It was like the movies I had seen him in, except this was real life and the person he was looking at was actually me.

“I think I understand,” he said. “But just in case, is it okay if I do an experiment just to be sure?”

I giggled. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

He placed a finger under my chin and tilted my head back until I was looking up at him. He leaned forward at an agonizing pace before his lips finally pressed against mine. It felt like the entire world around us paused in that moment. I had to restrain myself from getting onto his lap and deepening the kiss, even though I wanted to so badly. I wanted to spend the next few hours in this trailer with him, not even letting him leave to go film. I wanted to be tangled up with him and never let him go ever again.

The kiss ended far too soon. When Taron pulled away, I tried to chase his lips to pull him back to me. He chuckled at my eagerness, allowing his lips to press against mine for a quick peck.

“Let me take you out before we get too hot and heavy,” he told me. “I want to take you on a proper date.”

“I guess we should do that before I jump your bones,” I teased. “But you do still have quite some time till your call time. If you’d like company while you wait, I wouldn’t mind staying here with you for a while. Especially if you’re going to be dressed like that the whole time.”

Taron’s face turned red again as he looked down at himself, almost like he forgot what he had been wearing. “Might be too tempting for you.”

“It definitely will be. But I will respect your virtue and not try to deflower you in your trailer.”

He buried his face in his hands. “Oh my God! What have I gotten myself into here?”

“Something pretty great, if you ask me.”

#taron egerton #taron egerton imagine #taron egerton x reader #rocketman #elton john #imagine #one shot #rpf #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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daenysthedreamer101 · 5 months

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TVD - Season 4 Ep 12

"A View to a Kill"

Do I even have to say it? Elena and Jeremy killing Kol was the stupidest, most nonsensical thing I've seen on this show so far and that's saying a lot. There is no way in hell that Kol, an Original, was killed by Jeremy, a 16-year-old human (I know he's a hunter but still), and Elena, a baby vampire who's been a vampire for a couple of months at most. Kol is over a 1000 years old!

How? Like....Ughhhh! He didn't even want to kill Jeremy, just cut his arms off (ok not saying that's good but he said "I'll heal you with my blood" so...). He easily could've killed Elena, but he didn't. When he stabbed her, he stabbed her in the stomach, not the heart.

Also, it just felt OOC for Elena to be so willing to kill someone. Like "Oh yeah let's just kill him and by killing Kol we'll kill thousands of other vampires" ...Wasn't Elena supposed to be this really compassionate person because I don't see her anywhere. 😒😒😒

.....NO! THIS SHOULD NOT BE POSSIBLE! There's no way Elena was able to hold Kol for that long. Also, very convenient for her that she saw that Kol had the white oak stake with him cause his jacket was open (smells like plot convenience to me hmm...). And ofc they put vervain in the water system the day Elena decided to kill Kol...🙄🙄🙄

DAMN IT, I LIKED HIM! I know they bring him and Finn back for TO but that's irrelevant rn. Ever since they introduced him back in s3 they just kept on nerfing tf out of him. He's an Original damn it, he is more powerful than all of them. It shouldn't be possible for Damon to snap his neck and it should definitely not be possible for a human teenager and a baby vampire to kill him!

What tf was the point of making the Originals so powerful when a baby vampire and a human were able to kill one? Like who wrote this nonsense? 💀💀💀

Klaus and the others better take some revenge! Like, there need to be some repercussions for this!!! We saw Bekah cry when Stefan told her but like, that's not enough? I need revenge!

Also, Bonnie is kind of annoying me? Ever since that stupid professor showed her expression or whatever it's called she's been on my nerves idk. Literally, everyone rn on this show is annoying me lol 😭

Why didn't Kol compel Elena to stay put when he stabbed her? Like, don't tell me she was on vervain? There's no way she drank the water or did she? Or he ofc just didn't think of it.

Klaus's reaction to seeing Kol's body on fire and the way Elena flinched when he yelled "He was supposed to suffer on MY TERMS! "...yeah someone pls give my man Joseph an Oscar cause that was acting! Klaus better keep his promise and burn their stupid house down!

Where is Elijah? PLS COME BACK WE NEED YOU SO BAD! 😭😭

RIP MY BABY I'LL MISS YOU! YOU WERE SO CUTE AND SASSY AND CHAOTIC I LOVED YOU! 😟😟💔 (also how do we feel about the bangs lol)

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teecupangel · 3 months

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Catboy nonny again, just throwing some sh*t around, what if Desmond survives the Eye but it turns him into catboy and now modern assasssins have to deal with it?

William Miles would be looking for a cure while asking Desmond to take a break. Shaun and Rebecca gets roped into keeping Desmond safe.

Desmond loses the ability to speak (other than meow) but he has a phone with a text to speech app so it’s not all that bad.

A month in his break, Bill tells him that he needs to do missions once more and Desmond just shrugged.

It’s not surprising and they do have a lot of things to do, especially about Abstergo.

Rebecca and Shaun are worried though but Desmond just waves their worry off.

In other words…

Other than the fact that he now has cat ears and a cat tail…

Desmond will just do what he needs to do as an Assassin in the modern day.

Unorganized Notes:

Only Bill, Rebecca, Shaun and the crew of Altaïr II knows that he’s turned into a catboy. Everyone else are told that Desmond Miles lost the ability to speak after turning the device to save the world.

This is a catboy setup where Desmond doesn’t have an owner. He’s actually more like a stray cat in this one with Rebecca and Shaun acting more like that nice couple that leaves food for the stray that sometimes visit their balcony. (Metaphorically)

Catnip works with Desmond and they found that out when Rebecca jokingly bought one during a grocery run. It gives him the zoomies but he also acts on instinct and ‘instinct’ for Desmond means taking down everything that he sees as a threat… which is like almost everyone.

Cats don’t like Desmond and he automatically hisses whenever a cat hisses at him. Kittens though make him want to groom them and pet them and “Put down that box, Desmond! Those kittens belong to the woman upstairs!”

He saves the prisoners in the Madrid facility around the time Cal starts seeing Aguilar as part of his Bleeding Effect. He actually calls Desmond “Ezio?” when they first met and Desmond just went “meow?”. It took a few people telling Cal that, no, he wasn’t hallucinating, Desmond did meow at him.

This leads to the people who were meant to die during the rebellion inside the facility live and they sorta got adopted into Desmond’s team while the others who were suffering from the Bleeding Effect severely were sent to a different facility where they could hopefully recover.

This does mean that Lina and Emir sometimes slip and call Desmond “Ezio”. Cal does it too at times but they mostly just commiserate as two ‘normal’ runaway dudes that got roped back into the Brotherhood because the Templars were jerks.

At that point, Shaun just says “Oh, I guess we’re now Desmond’s clowder, huh?” and everyone just goes “???” because none of them knew that a group of cats is called a clowder.

They managed to save Elijah before her mother gets killed and they take them in to protect them. Desmond and Elijah’s mother are sorta awkward with one another but there’s no hard feelings because it was a one night stand and it was her choice to not tell Desmond. Desmond understands it and was okay with it because, even if he wasn’t in his son’s life all these years, he was able to be have a normal peaceful life.

He does purr a lot and grooms Elijah whenever he’s close though. It’s awkward as hell but they’re trying to make up for lost time… with Desmond being a catboy and Elijah not telling anyone about his strange dreams and the arrogant man who whispers to him.

#out of all the catboy desmond ideas #this is probably the easiest to keep gen #unless you wanna go for shaundes or maybe caldes #assassin's creed #desmond miles #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #catboy desmond

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so-long-soldier-writes · 1 year

Text

Safe

elijah mikaelson x reader

summary: old habits die hard, even when you live in a town full of vampires. you've tried to stop, but addictions are hard to quit. luckily, one of them is there to help you feel okay again.

tags: s3lf h4rm, light angst, angst with a happy ending, emotional hurt / comfort

word count: ~1.7k

Before entering the Grill, you check the bracelets on your wrist, making sure they’re all in place. The last thing you want is for your mistake to be on display for your friends to see. Then, with a sigh and a fake smile, you step inside.

It’s unusually busy today, but that’s okay, because more people means less looking at you. A lot of older relatives occupy the booths; graduation’s just around the corner. Younger kids from your high school sit with them or with their own friends at the tables. One of the tables seats Stefan and Caroline, but in your state, you feel like it’s a bad idea to approach the two vampires. So, you opt to talk to Matt, at the bar, instead.

Halfway across the restaurant, though, Caroline calls you out, “Y/N!”

You pause, turning to her, “hey! How are you two?”

“Okay-ish. Worried about Elena. Discussing what we could do.”

“Is she still… humanity-less?”

Stefan grimaces, “yep. Not even Damon’s been able to sire-bond her out of it.” It hurts him to say, you can tell.

You give him a sympathetic nod. “Can I help at all? I know I’ve asked before, but…”

“I wish. I think it’s up to her, though. We have to find a way to convince her to come back to us.”

“And with Jeremy gone, that’s going to be hard,” you continue.

“Because she doesn’t think she has a reason to come back,” Stefan finishes.

The three of you share a collective sigh. As difficult as Elena can be, she’s your best friend. Caroline’s too. And Stefan’s in love with the misguided girl. Damon convincing her to turn off her humanity was the worst decision anyone’s made yet, and there've been a lot of bad decisions made in the last couple years.

“Just let me know if I can help at all, Care. We need to get her back soon.”

“Agreed. Before she spills any more blood in this town.”

“Or before we lose her for good,” the man adds. “Hey, speaking of blood, do you smell something?”

You freeze. “Mmm, nope.” You laugh it off as a joke.

Caroline grins at you, then responds, “it’s faint, but kind of.”

“I’m going to look around for a second and make sure she isn’t here as we speak. Care, do you mind checking the back, I’ll scan here?”

“Yeah, of course. Catch you in a minute, Y/N.”

“Definitely!” You nod, then quickly turn away. At least the smell is faint. You look down at your wrist, which is still slightly red, and try to wipe it away. As if that would help. With no luck, you hurry towards Matt. The human will only be able to tell if he looks at your arm, but now you’ve moved your bracelets back in place.

Once again, you only get about halfway there when a gust of wind blows through the restaurant. It’s probably just Stefan, you think, checking for Elena. But then, another gust passes by, and suddenly, you’re outside.

“Shit!” You curse in a whisper.

“Y/N?” A man questions your name from the shadows. You can’t see him, but you recognize the voice.

“Elijah? Is that you?”

“Yes.”

Relief washes over you. “Is it you that brought me outside?”

“It is.”

“Can I ask why?”

He finally steps into the moonlight, letting you see him. Classy as ever, in a suit. Handsome, like always… you shake the thought from your head.

“I smelled blood, so I did a scan of the restaurant to see who it was. Rebekah had smelled it too. At first, it was tempting, but then I learned it was you, and knew I had to bring you out here to find out why you are bleeding. Y/N,” he takes your hand, “are you hurt?”

“Um, no, I’m okay.”

“Be honest, please. I do not intend to harm you. Has someone else hurt you?”

“No, I promise. Nobody’s hurt me.”

“Then why do I smell blood on you?”

“It’s old.”

“Faint, yes, but not old enough.”

“You don’t need to worry about it, Elijah, I’m fine.”

“I only mean to help you, lovely.”

“I know, but I promise that no one’s hurt me.” You look into his eyes, trying to get him to believe you. He looks back with a tenderness that makes you drop your own gaze. It’s overwhelming to look at him sometimes. You can tell he cares for you, but it’s not something you know how to interpret.

“I know you’re telling the truth, but yet it doesn’t explain… May I?”

You swallow hard, then nod. With your hand in his, he turns it over and exposes your wrist. Then, illuminated by the moonlight, is your big mistake. Three scars, swollen and red, carelessly carved into your skin. They’ve only stopped bleeding a little bit ago, but haven’t yet scabbed. It won’t be for another week or two that the scars will fade.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, tears forming in your eyes.

“For what? What do you have to be sorry for? The only person who should be sorry is the one who hurt you.”

“That’s why, ‘Lijah. I did it. I did it to myself.”

He looks up at you, words stuck in his throat. “Why?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s stupid.”

“Of course it matters. You can tell me. You’re safe with me.”

Safe.

The word alone breaks the dam, and tears escape down your face. “Everything, ‘Lijah. Everything that’s happened that I can’t control. Everything that I can’t fix. Everything that has nothing to do with me, and everything that has everything to do with me.” You vaguely cry out. He’s quiet, waiting for you to continue, so you do. “This town used to be so simple and quiet, and now it’s so unpredictable. My friends are getting hurt left and right, and I can’t protect them. Elena’s gone, in the wind, with no emotions. Jeremy’s gone entirely. Bonnie constantly overworks herself and one day it’s gonna really hurt her. Tyler’s never there for Care and I feel so, so awful that she’s suffering and missing him, and I just wish she could be happy. Stefan, too, is heartbroken, but doesn’t let it show. Matt’s terrified because we’re the only two humans left in our friend group. And I, pathetically, am useless, because I’m human, and I’m no help to anyone. But even if I was something stronger, I’d probably still be useless, because I’m me. I’m just the idiot whose parents are alive, but I have no relationship with them, and my friends probably secretly hate me for that. I’m not smart enough to offer advice, or help make plans to save Elena, or anyone else. I’m a disappointment, too, because I’m in love with a thousand year old vampire that they don’t really trust. Of course, they only know I think he’s hot; they don’t know that I’m actually, hopelessly, in love with him. They’d probably compel me to forget him. But, you can’t forget the top reason for disappointment! I can’t stop hurting myself! I’ve been addicted to it for years, even before this town was all vampire-y. At some point, they found out I did it, and I stopped for them. But then, shit went downhill again, and I went back to the one thing that I knew how to do correctly. I can’t do anything right, and I’m useless, and mortal, but I can do this correctly. Even if it gets me killed, it’s one thing I can control; one thing I can do.”

You stop your rant abruptly at the realization that you’ve been both sobbing and sniffling uncontrollably. Something hits your lip and you’re not sure if it’s from your eyes or nose, but it disgusts you nonetheless. Here you are, standing in front of an original vampire, crying about your personal problems. And you’re pretty sure you just admitted you were in love with him. Great.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, again. Your voice is barely audible, but he hears it.

“You have no reason to apologize.” He kisses your knuckles. “And you are not useless, you are not hopeless, nor are you an idiot, nor any other name you call yourself. You are a brave, strong woman, and it makes you even stronger that you’ve faced all you have and remain human. You’ve bested the lot of us vampires; that is admirable. You’ve helped in plans to save your friends, you’ve put down your own life to save them, and have still come out alive. Human. You’re worth so much more than you believe you do. And, whoever it is that you are, may I quote, ‘hopelessly in love with,’ should consider themselves blessed that you love them that much.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, afraid to look at him. His words swirl around in your head and your heart, mending your pain, yet you can’t look at him.

“And your habits,” he continues, “your harm. Does not make you weak. It’s simply an outlet for your pain. A harmful one, yes, but not one that means you are anything less of a person. If you would let me, I would like to be that outlet instead. Put your pain on me instead of on your skin.” He smiles, “not because of the blood, but because I care too much to see you hurt yourself. And, also, because I do fear someone else hurting you if they sense it.” You can feel his gaze upon your scars. “May I?”

You nod without knowing what he’s asking, but it’s okay. You trust him.

Slowly, he brings your wrist to his lips, kissing it gently. His teeth don’t make contact with your skin; only softness touches them.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Y/N. If not for me, do it for yourself.”

You finally meet his eyes. “I don’t know if it’s enough to stop for myself. But I can for you.”

He offers you a smile.

“Can I hug you?”

“Of course.”

He meets you halfway, wrapping strong arms around your body. For the first time in a while, you feel okay. Safe.

“Elijah?”

“Mhm?”

“Can I admit something?”

“Of course.”

“It’s you,” you take a breath, “that I love.”

He smiles, wider now. “Consider me blessed, then. If I may, I’ll admit I’ve fallen in love with you, too.”

You return the smile, then pull him back into the hug. Safe, and even happy.

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #tvd fanfiction #tvd season 4 #tw s3lf harm

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madwomansapologist · 2 years

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hello can you make headcanons about the yandere mikaelson family in love/obsessed with the same woman (reader)

Mikaelson Family being obsessed with you would include

synopsis: you seduced a whole family, wow. I would say good job, but seeing those siblings I thinks it would be better if I wish you good luck.

warning: vampire stuff, stalking and all that jazz (also, you know that thing called canon? Yeah, I ignore it)

ps: thanks for your request my love! I know that I made you wait for that, but I put a big effort on this one! Hope u like it!

• None of the Mikaelson siblings were expecting to find love when they move to Mistic Falls. Klaus plan, Elijah had to take care of Klaus, Rebecca had so many questions about herself that she need to solve and Kol just wanted to live his life in a way that would make the rest of his family really embarassed. They didn't have time os space or even the intencion to have love in their lifes

• Yet, that was what they all find there. In different ways, at different times, but with the same person: you

Kol Mikaelson 🥀

• Kol was the one that meet you first. He remember that moment so well that if he close his eyes it could almost feel like being again at the Grill and seeing you for the first time

• Actually, the first thing he notice about you was your scent. Even now he can't say if it is your natural scent or a perfume. When Kol inspire that marvellous scent of apple and caramel he felt his chest burn. He left his drink on the table and look around, trying to find who was doing that to him. It wasn’t just a perfume, it was more like a sweet love potion attracting him into a trap

• Kol follow his instincts and found who was seducing him. Alone at the bar, with a red daiquiri on her hands, was the most beautiful woman Kol had ever seen. You looked ethereal. Kol made his way on your direction and use his charm to chat with you. All his “you know you shouldn’t be talking to me because I will break your heart but you can’t ignore how bad you want me to do it” energy was used to make you interest onto talkig to him

• He wasn’t going to waist time waiting, he is the kind of man that do what he need to do. And Kol needed to know you. Different than one of his older brothers, Kol wouldn't hesitate about being closer and closer to you

• Kol loves when you let him became part of your routine and also enjoy when you invited him to your house. With his knowlegde about you, with your permission to come into your house, you didn’t even knew how much power you we’re giving to him

• Kol courts you with gifts. He loves to make you smile and soon he realize that he will do anything you want if that means he can see your happy face. At first it starts with jewerly and books, but as soons as he notice that he felt for you was different than anything he ever felt he get it: he would die for you in secret.

• Obviously he loves when you hug him because of something he did to you, but he also loves to see you happy because of a job promotion that he made up to you. He don't need the recognition, he just want to see you smiling

• When you understood that he was a vampire (we will come back to this subject later) a lot of things change. And with time and a lot of trust, you let him drink from you. He has charm and knew how to provoke you until you let him. Kol had always loved your smell and had, somehow, discover that your taste was even better

• He didn’t even know how protective he was until you. He walk you to your house after your work, he sometimes follows you just to know that you are fine, make sure that your house is safe and even add some verbein on your coffee

• Kol also didn’t know that he was so nosy. He read your books just to know what lines did you mark, he enters your house when you aren’t their just to look how everything is going, and even steal some of your clothes just to have a part of you with him. Privacy isn't a word present on his vocabulary

Elijah Mikaelson 🍷

• Elijah meet you a little bit after Kol made his way into your house. You we’re looking for a specific book on a library, murmuring to yourself the name of the author so you wouldn't forget, and your voice made Elijah’s heart skip a beat. It inebriated him, the sweet and slow tone making everything else seens so less important. It was a intricate symphony and all he wanted to do was to listen to it again and again and again

• Elijah is way more restrained than his brother. A little bit less invasive, way more observer. He let you have your space and woud respect that, all he want is for you to aspire for him on your life. Elijah wants to be needed for you, not be a inconvenient

• Elijah treat you like a princess because he want you to never think that you are less than that. Elijah is more practical. He clean your house when you are sick, cook while you work, massage your back when you are tired

• He is a real gentleman. Until the moment he is not. That man can be so jealous. Do you really think he would let anyone touch his mate? You are his, and Elijah will make sure no one forgets that. He can even get a little rude and agressive with the tought of you with someone else came to his mind, but he tries to not show this side of himself to you. It get worse when he see someone helping you, doing something for you, making your life easier. He loose his tempter when that happens

• Elijah would never admit that but he loves to watch you when you don’t know he is doing that. To see you doing mundane things, like washing your dishware or just cooking something for yourself, or even watch you discussing something personal with someone or changing your clothes: Elijah should be embarrassed, but he feels like heaven

• Elijah and you had a thing: read together. Just both of you on your couch with a soft blanket and tea, reading different books with your legs touching. You both don’t even need to talk, the silence is not umcomfortable. It is so easy to be around Elijah without the need to talk, it feels so intimate

• You both even have your little book club. Every friday you both talk about whats happening on the book your reading, what do you that is going to happen. It is fun to see Elijah having no clue about who did kill the victim, somehow he never discover

• While Kol feel a happiness emerge from his skin when he drink your blood, Elijah wants the oposite. Elijah don't like when you get hurt, that only makes him worried about you or mad with whoever hurt you, but he loves the shiver that runs up his spine when you go for him because you need his protection, because you need his blood to be fine again

• Unknowing to the fact that Kol already put verbein to your coffee, Elijah did the same. The aroma of coffee is so strong that he didn't realize it already has verbein. Elijah also gave you a necklace with verbein on it, just to ensure

Rebekah Mikaelson 💋

• And then you meet Rebecca. And she absolutely hated you. With every cell of her body. She envied your beaty, your intelligence, your symphathy, your kindness, your friends. She wanted to be you. To wear your skin. Have your hair, your nails, your lips. And soon she realize that she didn't wanted to be you: she wanted to have you

• Your first interaction wasn't nice, not at all, but when she understood her feelings for your it start to get better. She did put a lot of effort to make you forget the way she treated you

• She can be hard to deal sometimes. You understood that she easily can feel insecure. You also feel that, so you show her how important and incredible she is. Gentle words are important in your relationship

• Rebecca likes to choose what you gonna wear, what kinda of make up you gonna use, how your hair gonna be cut. She likes that. To transform you into a doll. Her doll. She likes to feel like she own you. Mine is a commom word to her mouth

• And she is way more impulsive then her brothers. Even Kol is nothing compared to her. If you are angry she gonna fight the person who wronged you. If you are sad then she gonna do anything to make you smile. If someone threaten you then Rebecca will need to wash blood from her hands. She doesnt even think about the consequences

• Shopping with Rebecca is always so funny. She seens like someone who don't know what kinda of clothes are trending, like she sleep for the entire decade and just woke up. Help her with her stylistic desicions make you so happy

• Rebecca also protect you with verbein. She gave you a perfume that hid the verbein scent, making sure that you wouldn't be vulnerable to others

Klaus Mikaelson 🐞

• Klaus, well, that man is crazy when it comes about love. For him it was love at first sight. Literally. When he put his eyes on you he knew that you we're meant to be his and nothing on this world would stoped him from being yours

• He does not care anyone that isn't you. No one would be more important than you. Klaus is not affraid of becoming a villain if that means you are his. And Klaus is also not affraid of loving with all his soul and body

• Klaus win your love with handwritten letters. You we're charmed by them. The attention about the detals, how his words we're so kind, the warm feeling that rule your body after reading them: you we're in love

• That men is jealous. Anyone, everyone, is a threat. Don't matter if you say that he is being paranoid, he won't hear you. You are his and his only. Klaus don't have time to breath and calm down, he simply acts towards who is around you

• Klaus spend money with you with the same ease a host would gave water to a guest. If you say that you like some author he gonna give you a collection with all their books. If he saw you looking at someone outfits then your closet will gain more clothes. Klaus always have the best gifts

• Klaus loves to paint you. From memory, with you posing, abstract, realist, portraits: he would paint you in any way. Wine and time: that is all he needs to when it comes about saving your beaty for the future

• You both have what you like to call Music Date. You show him your favorite song and he does the same. It is so fun to see his reactions and it is also really cool when you both hear something that it is really great. You tend to not say when you like a song he show you, just not having to deal with him bragging

• Klaus don't want you to find out about the whole vampire side of his life, so he is really carefull about it. Klaus don't want you to be manipulated by another vampire, but he also don't want you to find out about the verbein, so he was creative. Yes, Klaus put it on your make up

Originals 🚩

• The reason for them to discover that they we're all in love with the same woman was excess of verbein. They we're all making you ingest or inhale or use so much verbein that you literally get a allergic reaction

• Elijah felt guilty when he saw you at the hospital. While you we're sleeping he came to your house to throw away all the ground coffee with verbein

• Then Kol enter your kitchen, ready to do what his brother already did

• Then Rebecca get out of your bedroom after change your perfume ready to fight whoever had invaded your house

• Then Klaus open the front door, while a whole new kit of make up

• It was a really weird moment. They didn't say anything. They didn't move. They didn't even breath. It was clearly what was happening. And suddenly, after a strange silence, they we're all screaming to one another

• They get over it, but they need some time to be okay with the fact that you we're dating for people at the same time and they didn't even realize that. How many hours you day have so you we're able to do that?

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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andreal831 · 3 months

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Do you think that Hayley/Elijah/Jackson could’ve potentially worked as a throuple? 👀

I actually laughed when I read this question. Not because I think it would be impossible but because I think it would be absolutely wild. Maybe if the show was being run by more interesting people we could have had a storyline like this. It would make sense.

I mean on one hand, we have Hayley and Elijah who are in love and on the other hand we have a forced marriage. If anyone was going to have a throuple, they were primed for it. I have said it before but I don't believe the unification magic is so aware that Hayley and Elijah couldn't have stayed in a relationship. Also, no one proposed the idea of a throuple. I feel like that would have worked for the magic aspect of it.

If it did work, Hayley would have had to be the one to introduce it, and you know she would have. Hayley, especially at that time, was definitely a 'have your cake and eat it too' kind of person. And that is not a critique on her. She knew what she wanted and she went for it. So why not bring up the idea to the men.

Elijah would have been on board. He had been pinning after Hayley for like two years at that point and would have jumped at the opportunity to be with her in any way possible. He also has lived so long that I don't think it would have been strange to him. I joke that I love jealous Elijah but we really didn't get many scenes where he was obviously jealous. I feel like he was just, essentially, too old for that teen drama. So it wouldn't have bothered him that Hayley was also with Jackson. Especially because it would mean he got to be with her as well. Jackson would have been resistant for a variety of reasons. I can see him saying "That's not how we do things." But there definitely was a power imbalance there so I could see him caving and agreeing, but resenting it. So not a healthy throuple.

However, overtime, I could see Jackson and Elijah finding common ground. People love to say the men are so different, but they really aren't. They just wear different clothes. Jackson is more like a Mikaelson than he or the fandom want to admit. Jackson treats his pack similar to how the Mikaelsons treat their family. I think this is something Elijah and he could bond over. They've both had to make tough decisions, even bad decisions, in order to protect the ones they love. They've both also messed up a lot. They also both cared for Hayley and Hope which would likely be the first common ground they could come to.

I also love to think over time, given the chance, Elijah and Jackson would become friends. I can just see Jackson talking about hunting or some nature thing and Elijah just casually asking questions, trying to pretend he's not that interested. We view Elijah as an uptight business man, but let's not forget he was originally a farmer/warrior from what is present day Virginia. Elijah is a country boy. I would love a scene where Jackson is surprised by Elijah's knowledge of farming or hunting and then Hayley walks into an intense discussion about crop yields or the best way to skin a deer.

To me, it wouldn't ever be a true throuple, it would more likely be an open relationship. I just never got queer vibes from Jackson, but who knows. But if the show had focused more on character development and family, and less on drama, we may have actually seen a begrudging friendship and mutual respect from the two men. And Hayley would have truly benefited from that. But we all know how little Julie likes to let women have control over their relationships.

Thanks for the ask! These are always so fun for me.

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hyperactivewhore · 7 months

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How did you feel with Hope’s and Rebekah’s interactions in legacies? I was really disappointed in Rebekah. I understand that Klaus and Hayley would’ve hated to see Hope without her humanity, but Rebekah had no right to say that Klaus would be disappointed in Hope. Hope has been through so much, and no one in her family seemed to care. Rebekah, and the rest of the mikaelsons, seemingly abandoned Hope - which would’ve disappointed Klaus, Hayley, and Elijah way more than Hope unwillingly turning off her humanity. Say what you will about Elijah, and you can say a lot because he was awful (especially towards Marcel), but he wouldn’t have allowed Hope to deal with malivore and a random god alone. It still makes me angry that the Mikaelsons helped Hope regain her humanity but scattered when she was in danger once more because of some idiotic god named Ken.

Rebekah got on my nerves so badly, to be honest. She showed up out of nowhere after years of no contact and she just expected Hope to be happy and not hold a grudge against the fact that they left her completely alone to die???

Honestly, the Mikaelson (and by this I mean Kol, Rebekah and Freya) did not care for Hope that much even in The Originals. They had set crazy expectations in her and once they saw Hope didn't fit their happily ever after, they dumped her.

I'm not saying they didn't love her because they clearly did, but they cared more about her being the redemption of their family/what she was supposed to "fix" way more than they cared for Hope herself: in my opinion, the only people who didn't see her as their redemption were Klaus and Hayley and don't get me wrong, Klaus was a shitty father but at least he along with Hayley never put any expectation in her.

I mean, Freya already expressed her little interest in making sure Hope kept her innocence as a kid in this conversation:

[HAYLEY: I've done plenty wrong in my life, Freya. But things are different now. I have a sweet little girl who's going around healing injured fireflies with her magic. If we're keeping someone captive in our barn, she's gonna have questions.

FREYA: Then tell her that the world's a bad place and that sometimes we have to do bad things to survive. She'll be safer if she learns that early.

HAYLEY: It's not her job to keep herself safe. It's mine. It's ours. And that includes protecting her innocence.

FREYA: She's a Mikaelson -- she can live without her innocence. She can't live without her family. She's a Mikaelson, and you're-]

And as any other Mikaelson loves doing, Freya made sure to remind her of why Hayley would never be actually part of her family: she doesn't share their blood. I mean, look at Hope; she does share their blood and yet they didn't give a damn about her, Freya didn't care about making sure she grew as normal as possible (extremely difficult with their lifestyle), Rebekah ditched Hope the moment she stopped being a baby because she couldn't live her fantasy of wanting to cosplay as a mother and Kol wasn't even allowed to be around her when she was a baby, and then they never actually developed a bond once she grew up.

Of course, this is controversial because in The Originals, judging by the phone call Hope has with Kol, the way she behaves around Freya and that line in Legacies about Rebekah teaching her how to dance, it is implied they were close enough to have a good relationship and that they did care for her. And she's even closer to Marcel, if we take into account how comfortable and happy they act with each other.

Freya did say she saw Hope as the kid she lost and of course, the moment she had a kid of her own she dumped her. Rebekah was obsessed with being a mother and yet it's proven time and time again to be a shitty person around kids: the grooming with Marcel, being mean to Elena and Caroline because she was jealous and not giving a damn about Hope once she grew up and then we have Kol, who funnily enough seems to be closer to her than Freya and Rebekah and of course Marcel, the person Hope loves more than any of her blood relatives lol.

Don't get me wrong, Legacies played a big part in the way the Mikaelson ruined their relationship with Hope, but I don't get why people act so surprised and hurt about their abandonment of her when there were already signs of this in The Originals. The only reason they even stayed together for a millennium was because of Elijah and because Klaus refused to let them go, so of course they would fall apart once they died.

And yes, I agree with the whole Elijah thing. He loved Hope a lot once he got to know her in season five and he would have never left her alone in the Salvatore school, but he would also never have allowed her to stay that long on it.

#someday i'll write that post about why every mikaelson including rebekah would be a shitty parent #klaus mikaelson #hope mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #freya mikaelson #hayley marshall #marcel gerard #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvd #to

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wholoveseggs · 20 days

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Hey can can I ask for something soft with Elijah? Like a lot of praise kink it could even be her first time and he's so gentle and aftercare please

Gratitude

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

It's a warm summer night and Elijah plans a special date for you, hoping to make your dreams come true.

♡♡ Thanks for the request lovely anon! I love writing about soft and sweet Elijah ♡♡

4.7k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, virgin!reader, first time, so fluffy, so sweet, lots of praise, cuddles & tiramisu ...

It was a rather warm day in New Orleans, the birds were chirping and the sun was shining bright. You enjoyed the feeling of the sun on your skin, the warm breeze in your hair.

You were on your way to the compound, Elijah had invited you over for a special date night. A smile crept up on your lips at the thought, you felt giddy and breathless. You had never been so in love, it was a magical feeling, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach, a tingly feeling running through your body whenever you saw him.

It was still so hard to believe that this handsome, intelligent man could love you, wanted you, the same way you wanted him. You had spilled all your secrets to him, told him things about yourself that you had never shared with anyone else. Your heart felt so safe in his hands, he made you feel like you could tell him everything and he would still love you, still be there for you.

So you had decided to share something very special with him, something you had never shared with anybody before, something that you could only give once.

The closer you got to the compound the more nervous you got, not in a bad way, it was the good kind of nervousness, the butterflies in your stomach were fluttering harder and faster, your heart beat a bit quicker, your breathing was a little heavier, the giddiness increased.

A few minutes later you entered the compound and the smell of delicious food immediately hit your nose. Elijah had cooked dinner, your favourite meal. He was always so thoughtful, remembering little details about you and making sure to take good care of you.

You practically skipped into the kitchen, expecting to see Elijah, but it was empty, instead you spotted a note on the table, you recognized his beautiful handwriting.

My love, I've gone out to pick up dessert, please go ahead and make yourself comfortable, enjoy a glass of wine in the garden, it's such a lovely evening. -E

Your smile grew as you read the note, he had a tendency to be rather extra, always making you feel special.

You walked towards the wine cabinet and took out one of your favourite red wines and a glass before walking into the living room towards the garden.

"Don't you look absolutely lovely this evening," Klaus' voice sounded from the sofa, his nose buried in a book, he didn't even bother to look up.

"Thank you," you replied with a shaky voice, Klaus always made you feel nervous, but Elijah had assured you that his brother wouldn't hurt you, that he would respect your relationship and he had, but he did enjoy teasing you a bit too much, he knew exactly what buttons to push.

Klaus put his book down, "I see my brother has gone overboard for your date tonight. How long has it been, three months?" He looked at you, smirking.

You gulped, "Yeah," you managed to squeak out, not breaking eye contact.

"Hmm, and yet you haven't stayed the night here, not a fan of sleepovers?" Klaus grinned.

You blushed and quickly looked down, "We're just taking it slow," you replied shyly, knowing that that wasn't the truth, Elijah was waiting for you to be ready.

Klaus chuckled, "I see, well I will let you enjoy your evening then," he stood up and walked past you, stopping right behind you, he whispered in your ear, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

You blushed even harder and quickly turned around, but he was already gone. You sighed and walked out onto the patio, trying to calm down, it didn't take long for your nerves to go away.

Elijah had gone overboard, the whole patio had been decorated, a blanket and pillows laid out in the middle, fresh flowers everywhere, with twinkle lights hung all over the place. It was absolutely stunning.

You let out a quiet squeal of excitement and quickly poured yourself a glass of wine, sitting down in the soft blankets and pillows. You sipped your wine while enjoying the peaceful sounds and smells, the warm breeze brushing against your skin.

Alone with your thoughts, the nervousness started to come back, you shifted against the pillows, squeezing your thighs together. You couldn't help but think of what was going to happen later. The idea of Elijah touching you, filled your stomach with butterflies, a heat forming between your legs.

You heard the door slide open, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"Sorry I was gone for so long," Elijah smiled at you, "I couldn't find the right dessert."

He bent down to give you a quick kiss, placing a paper bag next to you.

"No worries," you smiled, "This is absolutely gorgeous," you gestured around you.

"Not as gorgeous as you," Elijah looked at you with admiration in his eyes.

"You're just being sweet," you blushed, looking down.

He softly pressed his lips against yours, his hand moving to cup your cheek. You kissed him back, putting your hand over his.

"Are you ready for tonight? I don't want you to feel any pressure," he asked softly, his eyes full of love and adoration.

"I'm nervous, but in a good way, I'm excited," you assured him.

"Good," he said and leaned in to kiss you again.

The servers came out with the dinner Elijah had prepared. It was delicious and the evening went by fast, you talked about everything and nothing, your conversations with him were always so easy and effortless.

"So," Elijah said as the servers took away the last plates. "Dessert?"

"I'd love that," you nodded, smiling.

He reached into the paper bag and pulled out a container. "Tiramisu," he said, opening the lid.

"My favourite," you said, looking at the desert with wide eyes.

"I know," Elijah winked.

You blushed and leaned forward to take a bite, moaning at the delicious taste, you had never had a better tiramisu, the creamy texture mixed with the bitter coffee and sweet ladyfingers.

Elijah couldn't tear his eyes away from you, hearing you moan was music to his ears. He couldn't wait to hear you make that noise again.

"You have a little cream there," Elijah chuckled, wiping it away from the corner of your mouth.

You blushed and watched as Elijah licked the cream off his finger, it was such a simple gesture, but it made your panties flood, you couldn't help the small gasp that escaped your mouth.

Elijah chuckled, you were so sweet and innocent. He loved seeing you flustered.

The sun had started to set, painting the sky in orange and pink colours, it was beautiful. You sat on the pillows, admiring the sunset and the stars slowly appearing in the dark sky, candles providing some light.

You leaned your head against Elijah's shoulder, letting out a content sigh, you felt so safe and warm, his arms around you.

"Thank you for tonight," you mumbled.

"Of course," Elijah whispered and kissed the top of your head, "I wanted to make it special," he said softly.

A comfortable quietness settled over the two of you, just enjoying each other's company, and the beautiful summer night.

Your mind raced, thinking of what came next, a warmth pooling between your legs, a wetness starting to form. You wanted him so badly, the thought of his touch was exciting and a bit scary, but you trusted him.

"Elijah? Can I ask you a personal question?" You asked nervously.

"Of course," he said softly, stroking your arm.

"What was your first time like?" You asked, looking up at him.

"Hmm, a very long time ago," Elijah chuckled. "She was a sweet girl, I was a young man, very eager," he smirked, thinking back.

"Were you nervous?" You asked, a hint of shyness in your voice.

"Extremely," Elijah said, smiling to himself. "I had no idea what I was doing... sex ed was nonexistent back then."

You giggled, imagining a nervous, young Elijah, all lanky and awkward.

"Fortunately she was a good teacher, she took control, guiding me, we laughed a lot and it was fun, despite not lasting very long," he smirked.

"Sounds like it was a good experience," you replied.

"I actually did something so embarrassing...I'll never forget the look on her face," Elijah shook his head, a laugh escaping his mouth.

"What was it?" You asked, hoping not to repeat his mistakes.

"Well... afterwards... we were cuddling and I... Thanked her," Elijah said, shaking his head, smiling.

"Thanked her?" You asked confused.

"Yeah, I thanked her for allowing me to have sex with her," he laughed.

"Oh my god," you burst out laughing. "How did she react?"

"She stared at me, completely dumbfounded, then she burst out laughing," Elijah shook his head. "Only then did I realise that wasn't the thing to say," he chuckled.

"Yeah, probably not," you giggled, imagining the situation. "But still very sweet of you," you smiled.

Elijah hummed softly, pulling you tighter, kissing the top of your head again.

The candles had died down, the patio was mostly dark now, the stars and the moon were the only things providing light.

You relaxed into his touch and the sweet scent of his cologne, it was so familiar, so comforting.

"Can we go inside?" You asked, looking up at him.

He nodded and helped you to your feet, leading you to his bedroom, which was just as thoughtfully decorated as the garden. He had scattered flowers on the bed, pink and red petals forming a heart on the soft cotton sheets.

Elijah could sense your unease, the tiny ways your body reacted, the quickening rise and fall of your chest, the skipping of a beat. It reminded him of his first time, the excitement and anxiety mixed together. He knew he had to take the lead, make you feel comfortable, make you feel confident and safe.

He walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing your neck softly.

"We can stop at any point, no matter how far we've gone, okay?" Elijah spoke quietly in your ear.

"Okay," you whispered, closing your eyes, his words giving you a sense of security.

You relaxed against him, enjoying the softness of his lips. His hand went to the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down, his fingertips grazing your spine as he did.

Elijah's other hand lightly traced along the straps of your dress, pushing them off your shoulders, letting the dress fall around you.

Your hands instinctively went to cover yourself, having never been naked with anyone like this, having anyone's eyes on you.

Elijah noticed your hesitation and kissed the sensitive spot right behind your ear, his stubble tickling your neck, making you giggle.

"You are beautiful," he whispered in your ear.

Your cheeks turned a light shade of pink and you smiled shyly, not used to being complimented like that, and knowing that he really meant it.

"Can I see?" He asked softly, wanting to make sure you were comfortable with every step of the way.

A wave of heat travelled through your body, another blush creeped up, settling on your cheeks. You felt so vulnerable, yet it felt right, safe, with him.

You took a deep breath and slowly moved your hands away from your chest, your arms resting by your sides, allowing him to look at you.

"Perfect," Elijah whispered, his hands slowly caressing your arms, his lips pressing soft kisses on your shoulder.

You loved the sound of his voice, the way his lips felt on your skin, they were so soft, so gentle. His hands were on your hips, his fingers travelling along the edge of your panties, he pulled on them slightly and let them snap back into place, teasing you.

You turned around to face him, your hands sliding up his chest and pushing his suit jacket off his broad shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with your dress.

Elijah cupped your cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb across your cheekbone, lovingly looking down at you. You were so lovely and sweet, the trust you had in him made his heart flutter.

You locked eyes as you started to unbutton his shirt, your lips parted, your breath heavy, your chest heaving. Each inch of his chest that you revealed, made the fire in the pit of your stomach grow. You ran your fingers along his muscular chest, looking up at him shyly.

He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, his hands roaming down your body, gently kneading your ass, pulling you closer.

You gasped as he pressed your body into his, you could feel his erection against your stomach, it was a bit intimidating, the size and shape, but at the same time you wondered what it would feel like inside you.

Elijah let his shirt join his suit jacket, then his hands travel up your back, slowly unclasping your bra. He moved his fingers along your arms, gently removing it before he tossed it aside, his eyes never leaving yours.

You blushed under his intense gaze, feeling very exposed and vulnerable. You felt his hands gently cupping your breasts, smiling down at your flushed face.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered and softly squeezed them, rolling your hard nipples between his fingers.

A small moan escaped your lips, his touch sending sparks straight to your core.

"Do you like that?" Elijah asked softly.

"Yes," you breathed out, your hands gripping his biceps.

"Tell me what else you like," Elijah hummed, slowly walking you backwards towards the bed, his hands moving up to your shoulders, gently pushing you down onto the sheets.

"I..." You were at a total loss for words, he was leaning over you, his hands on either side of your waist. You felt his knee press against the bed between your legs, spreading them.

Elijah could tell you were enjoying yourself by the way your body reacted to his touch. The way your hips subtly pushed forward, the way your blood pumped faster, the way your breathing got heavier.

He dipped his head and captured a nipple in his mouth, sucking and gently biting. You moaned softly, tangling your fingers in his hair. Elijah chuckled, moving to your other nipple, his tongue swirling around the hard nub.

He released your nipple with a pop, looking up at you, "I asked you a question, sweetheart."

"I'm sorry," you gasped, feeling him move his knee higher between your legs.

"It's okay, just relax," he said soothingly, his lips pressing against yours.

He kissed you slowly, waiting for you to make the next move, wanting to make sure that you were comfortable enough to ask for what you needed.

You could feel him smile against your lips, "There we go," he hummed approvingly as you began to rub yourself on his knee, your hips rolled, slowly building a rhythm.

Your hands explored his arms and shoulders, feeling the soft chest hair underneath your fingertips. Your hands moved lower, feeling his toned stomach and the v muscles along his hips, stopping at the waistband of his pants.

Your fingers toyed with the fabric for a moment, debating what to do next, your heartbeat fast and your brain a bit hazy. Your eyes flickered up to meet his, his gaze was intense, with an obvious lust behind them.

You blushed and quickly looked away, nervousness washing over you.

"It's okay, we can go nice and slow," Elijah whispered into your ear, kissing along your neck as his hands travelled down your body.

You could only let out a small noise of pleasure, trying to swallow past the lump forming in your throat, nerves getting the better of you.

Elijah's fingers caressed your thigh as his lips made their way down your body, paying careful attention to every inch, every piece of skin, every curve, kissing each freckle and scar, until he reached your belly button.

He looked up at you through his lashes, pulling down your panties agonisingly slowly.

You shifted uncomfortably, your legs starting to tremble now that you were completely bare and exposed to him.

Elijah dropped your panties on the floor, his eyes finally able to look at the place he wanted to be for weeks.

You pulled your knees together, shrinking back from his gaze. You felt so embarrassed, so inexperienced, so clueless. You were afraid that you would disappoint him, knowing nothing about pleasuring another person.

He gently nudged your thighs apart, his thumb gently caressed your hip, kissing the other. "So pretty," he hummed as he trailed more kisses down your thigh.

He watched as your chest kept rising and falling rapidly, getting more and more intense the closer he got to the one place he wanted to spend the night worshipping.

Your hands fidgeted nervously, unsure of what to do with them, you squeezed them by your sides, digging your fingernails into the sheets. Your mind was racing with a million insecurities and desires all at once.

The first gentle flick of his tongue felt like heaven, your eyes rolling back as your breath hitched in your throat.

"Oh," you sighed softly, your hands immediately going to his hair, threading your fingers through his locks and tugging slightly.

Elijah nipped and sucked at your inner thighs, building you up, "You taste so sweet," he said, before lapping at you again.

He felt your body starting to react, your hips pushing against his mouth, searching for more, more friction, more release, more pleasure.

His tongue felt amazing, swirling around your most sensitive spot, teasing you over and over. You had touched yourself before, but nothing like this, nothing you had ever done felt this good.

Your legs trembled, unable to stay still, but Elijah pinned them down, his strong hands tight around your thighs, holding you against the bed.

You couldn't help the noises coming out of you, as you gasped for air, watching Elijah bury his face between your thighs. You sat up a bit on your elbows, watching him please you.

His face was pressed so close to you, his eyelashes fluttered as his tongue flicked your clit. His nose nudging your most sensitive spot with every movement of his head.

"Elijah," you moaned, tugging on his hair, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets.

He couldn't get enough, the way your thighs trembled in his hands, the way your scent invaded his senses, the noises, the taste. You were everything he could dream of and more. His sweet girl.

As the heat between your legs grew, so did the pleasure, the familiar feeling of an orgasm was building within you. There was something utterly magical about having the person you love make you feel this good, how your heart swelled and pulsed along with the throbbing between your legs.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you felt your head spin, falling back onto the pillows. Your back arched and your hips began to move of their own accord, searching for more pressure, more release.

Your breath caught in your throat and then your body was overwhelmed with that wonderful blissful tingling feeling, crashing and crashing, over and over. All your muscles tensed and untensed, your mind going completely blank and fuzzy.

Elijah helped you ride out the waves of pleasure, licking you slowly, letting you come down from your high. Your eyes closed and lips parted, your hips still slowly moving on their own.

When the aftershocks finally faded, you opened your eyes, your chest heaving. Elijah was looking up at you, his hair wild and his cheeks covered in your wetness. Your whole body turned red as you blushed. You covered your face in embarrassment.

Elijah chuckled, wiping his face off on your thigh and then kissing and nipping his way up your body.

"Hey," he whispered, peppering little kisses on your hands.

You peeked at him through your fingers, giving him a coy smile.

He laughed softly and moved his hands along your arms, smiling down at you. He had never seen anything more gorgeous. You blushed like crazy and could barely handle him touching you.

He kicked off his pants and leaned forward pressing his lips to yours as he pulled the sheets over the two of you, cocooning you both under the white cotton.

You giggled, the feeling of his skin in the low light and his soft kisses kept your mind busy, allowing the pleasant butterflies to flourish.

"Still nervous?" Elijah asked playfully.

"A little," you admitted.

"We can stop," he hummed, stroking your hair.

"No way," you said, a smirk pulling at your lips.

Elijah grinned and then kissed you deeply. His hands explored your body, feeling the smooth curves and dips. He pushed you onto your back and pulled you gently under him, the sheets softly rustled with his movement.

The air was stuffy and warm under the covers, but you were both happy to stay enclosed. Cosy and surrounded by just each other, in your own little universe of bliss.

You could feel his erection hard and warm against your skin, the only thing separating you now was his boxers. You bit your lip, he was so big, far more impressive than any toy you had used.

Your fingers hesitantly pushed his underwear down, reaching between your bodies. Your hand was shaking as you felt his skin, soft but so firm, warm and delicate.

You wrapped your hand around him as best you could, feeling the silky skin, slowly stroking him. It was a feeling that was new to you, the first time feeling someone else like this. Your eyes met his and your stomach did a somersault, you felt so close, so intimate.

"Is this okay?" You asked in the softest tone, causing Elijah to lean into you and catch your lips in a passionate kiss.

"It feels wonderful," he murmured against your lips, his hips pushing into your touch, loving the sensation of your sweet touch.

Slowly, your hand moved along his shaft, your fingertips lightly squeezing him every so often. Your mind raced, nerves were creeping in again, it was time, it was actually happening, there was no backing out now.

You opened your legs a little wider, inviting him in, you knew that it might hurt a bit, but you were in the safest place you could possibly be, with the sweetest man you could ask for.

He put his hand over yours, guiding himself to your entrance, his tip just barely grazing you. He took a deep breath, leaning into you, resting his weight on his forearm.

"I don't want to hurt you," Elijah whispered. "Tell me what feels good and I'll keep doing it."

You nodded and relaxed the tension that you didn't even realise you were holding. He supported his body and then eased into you slowly.

You inhaled sharply, your hands tightened into fists, holding onto his shoulders tightly, it hurt a bit more than you thought.

He paused, kissing you, his lips sweet and slow. You gradually started to feel more comfortable, his warm, firm length slowly filling you, inch by inch.

You broke the kiss and let out a deep shaky breath, the pain fading into pleasure. His lips didn't waste a moment, showering kisses along your neck.

"You're doing so good," he hummed. "I love how you feel," he breathed out heavily, not sure how long he was going to last, after fantasising about this moment for weeks.

You had imagined this moment so many times, how all your senses would react, but in your mind, it never felt like this. He was warm, careful and tender, protective and soft, loving and sweet. You felt so full of him, stretched in the most pleasurable way.

It was so strange and new, to feel this intimacy, to feel the connection. Your hearts beating, his lips on your skin, your hands laced together, your bodies melting into one.

He began to move slowly, with deep, gentle strokes. You tilted your hips slightly, the angle changing, his length brushing along the sensitive spot inside of you. A moan came flying out of your mouth as an incredible jolt of pleasure rocked your body.

Elijah made sure to keep the same angle, rolling his hips perfectly, listening to your small noises of pleasure, memorising every sigh and moan that escaped your perfect lips.

There was no rush, he didn't speed up, content on just making you feel good for as long as you both could last.

You were lost in a haze, your hands intertwined, the heat of the sheets surrounding you, the bed creaking with his even strokes. Everything in the outside world seemed to evaporate, there was nothing outside of the cocoon of your love.

It wasn't long until you were both moaning together, your chest heaved, your hips grinding together. He felt so deep, your fingers digging into his biceps, trying to ground yourself.

"Such a good girl," Elijah whispered. Observing a layer of sweat covering your skin. He could feel you squeezing around him when he praised you, your legs closing around his waist, pulling him close.

"Hmmm, you like that?" he murmured, kissing the side of your neck.

He felt you moan more and arch your back slightly, too lost for words, your mind was flooded with pure pleasure. All he wanted was to indulge in every single fantasy that had crossed your mind, to feel every sweet emotion that flowed through your veins.

"My love," Elijah mumbled, his own heart thrumming. You felt like a dream to him. "You were made for me,"

All your senses were overloading, his hands, his skin, his scent, his sweet voice in your ear, telling you how good you made him feel.

You squeezed his hands, letting out the sweetest moan he had ever heard. One he would etch into his memory forever, memorising the pitch, the way it started and fell, the softness of the sound.

You squeezed him so tightly that you almost pushed him out of you, your second orgasm washed over you, your mind focused solely on the warmth and fullness of his body on top of yours. It felt like nothing you could describe, emotional and overwhelming, absolute heaven.

Elijah could no longer contain himself, the feeling of you and the sounds of your moans of pleasure pushed him over the edge.

You watched him as his eyes squeezed shut, his muscles tense and he let out the sexiest groan, vibrating through his chest and into yours. You felt his warm release fill you as he thrust deep inside of you.

He kissed you deeply as you both rode out your highs together. Wrapped up in sheets and each other, you simply existed for a while, breathing heavily, your chests heaving against one another. Your breathing falling in sync after some time.

When the high had faded, he gently pulled out and collapsed next to you, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you to his chest. You felt sticky and exhausted, but happier than you ever had.

He pulled back the sheets, the cold air making you snuggle closer, his warmth radiating through your bodies. You kissed lazily and then simply laid together, listening to the other's heartbeat and breath.

"Thank you," you teased, looking up at him with a cheeky grin.

Elijah tickled your sides, rolling on top of you, smirking as you giggled and struggled to escape.

"How dare you throw my embarrassing secret back in my face, and so soon after we've made love," he growled, playfully, his lips peppering kisses all over your face.

"Oh, thank you Elijah! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" You squealed between laughs.

He smiled, kissing your forehead and then rolling off of you, laying on his side, pulling you to his chest. You rested your cheek against his shoulder, running your fingertips along the soft hair that was scattered across his chest.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist," you giggled, kissing your way up his neck.

"Worth the embarrassment," he said, gently lifting your chin with his finger and bringing your lips to his in a soft lingering kiss. "And you are very welcome,"

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