#The trust the rawness the willing vulnerability

[lady-shadow-and-darkness]

I'm rewatching season 2 and...

GOD I FORGOT ABOUT THIS LINE THEY ARE SO URGH

[lendeah]

Three times you get cuddly Astarion and one you do not.

“Don’t look at me like that. With the sweet little ‘disappointed I’m not getting cuddly Astarion’ pout. I can’t take it. I can’t be what you want to see in me.”

Based on this comment!

[ao3 link]

The first time it happened, you had been sleeping together for a few weeks. It seemed like there was an unspoken rule that you would leave soon after sex, giving him his space. You could sense his reluctance to be vulnerable and intimate, so you respected that boundary and didn't push him. But on this particular night, as you lay tangled in each other's limbs, there was a subtle hesitation from him. It was like a whisper of doubt, lingering in the air between you.

"Everything alright, Astarion?" you asked.

He seemed to get startled at this, as if caught off guard by your question.

"Wha- oh! Of course, darling. Everything is perfect."

You nodded, even though couldn't help but feel skeptical about his words. Maybe he needed space again.

"I guess I'll be going then," you said with a heavy heart, slowly rising to your feet.

You got dressed and began to make your way towards the door. Astarion followed closely behind you, his hands twitching nervously.

"Wait." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to face him, seeing a hint of vulnerability in his usually cocky expression.

"I...I don't want you to go just yet." He admitted, looking down at his feet.

You could see the internal struggle within him, and your heart ached a bit for him. You walked back towards him and slowly reached for his hand, not wanting to startle him.

"What do you want, then?" you asked, softly.

He looked up at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. There was a raw emotion in his crimson eyes, and it felt like looking into his soul.

"I...I want you to stay the night. If that's what you want, of course." He said, hesitantly.

You could sense the vulnerability in his voice, and you knew that this was a big step for him. Astarion was not one to open up easily, and you were honored that he was willing to share himself with you.

"Okay." You replied, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

Astarion wordlessly guided you back to his bedroll. This was new territory for both of you, but it felt just right. Hesitantly, he climbed into bed beside you and wrapped an arm around your waist. You couldn't help but smile at his nervousness; he was always so confident when it came to flirting and seduction, yet it was cuddling that seemed to make him flustered.

You wrapped your arms around him, feeling the cold softness of his body against yours. It was a comforting feeling, being this close to him. He hesitantly reached out his hand, his fingers trembling as he gently combed through your hair. As you both lay in silence, Astarion's movements became more confident and soothing, his fingers carefully untangling any knots or snarls. You could sense the tension in him slowly dissipating as he allowed himself to open up and connect with you in this intimate way. It was a moment filled with vulnerability and trust, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for it.

"Thank you for trusting me," you murmured.

Astarion stayed silent for a few seconds, before responding. "Thank you for staying."

Another significant moment was when he finally confessed his feelings for you. You had both agreed to take a break from physical intimacy, which you were completely fine with. However, you weren't sure if this also meant giving up your now nightly cuddling sessions together.

Your answer came when that night, as Astarion appeared at the door of your tent, pacing back and forth. You chuckled under your breath as you approached him.

"Do you require my services, Astarion?"

Astarion's eyes fixated on you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "My dear! I've only come here to see you." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "But perhaps we could have a more... intimate discussion?"

You raised an eyebrow in surprise. You thought you had left matters clear that same evening.

"Of course," you replied, stepping aside and gesturing for him to enter your tent. Once inside, Astarion settled onto your bedroll while you sat beside him. He looked at you with a mixture of nerves and determination in his eyes.

"I wanted to discuss what we talked about earlier," he began cautiously.

You nodded, encouraging him to continue. He cleared his throat.

"I... ehm. I know we agreed we wouldn't be intimate, but I was merely wondering if we could keep up..."

"Our nightly cuddle?" You filled in the gap for him.

"Err... yes," he grimaced awkwardly. "That."

You smiled warmly at him, finding his bashfulness rather endearing. "I'm glad you brought it up, Astarion, because I would kind of miss it if we didn't."

Relief shone in his eyes as he gazed at you with genuine gratitude, causing your heart to skip a beat.

"That's...I mean, it's only natural that you would miss it," he responded. "After all, how often do you get the opportunity to cuddle with someone like me?"

You rolled your eyes at his cocky remark, but couldn't hide the small smile on your face.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, just enjoying each other's company. Finally, you broke the silence again.

"I think it's time for me to call it a night," you gave him a pointed look. "Care to join me?"

Astarion's eyes widened in surprise at your invitation, but he quickly composed himself and grinned wickedly. "I would be honored to share a bedroll with you, my dear."

As you settled down into your bedroll, you patted the spot next to you, inviting Astarion to join. He eagerly complied, curling up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. His touch was both gentle and possessive, making you feel loved and protected. He nuzzled his nose against your hair before placing a soft kiss on the nape of your neck. It felt like a promise, and brought a sense of peace as you drifted off to sleep in his embrace.

The third remarkable time happened just before reaching Baldur's Gate, when Astarion was gravely injured in a brutal fight. Your heart raced as you tended to his wounds, frantically trying to heal him as the blood pooled beneath him. As night fell, you collapsed onto the ground next to him, gently pushing away sweaty strands of hair from his clammy forehead.

You felt a wave of relief wash over you before settling down next to him. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, burying his head in your chest. Your fingers traced soothing patterns through his soft ivory curls as he drifted off into a meditative state. After a while, you felt his usually tense muscles relax over your body. He was asleep, or at least in a state of deep meditation. You continued to stroke his hair gently, not wanting to wake him. In this moment, he looked completely peaceful – a stark contrast to the dashing rogue always ready with a witty retort.

"Are you feeling any better?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you gazed at him with concern.

He looked up at you, a weak smile on his lips. "I owe it all to your care."

As you lay there in the quiet darkness, an unfamiliar sentiment rose within your chest, filling it to the brim. You weren't sure when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, Astarion had become more than just a companion or a lover. He was your partner in every sense of the word – someone who understood and accepted you for who you were. And even though none of you could still put a name to whatever you shared, you knew for certain that this bond was something precious, something to be cherished. You realized in that moment, it was love.

A couple of days later, he met his sibling at a pub in Rivington and you had a disagreement that left a bitter feeling in your mouth. That evening, you waited for him in your sleeping bag, as was customary. But as the minutes ticked by, it seemed like he wasn't going to show up. You began to wonder if he wanted you to seek him out instead; so, you got out of your bedroll and crossed the short distance between your tents.

"I am in love with you," you murmured into the silence. The admission took your breath away as you shivered slightly under Astarion's touch, your heart pounding against his ear. Would he feel the difference in your heartbeat? Could he sense the shift in your feelings?

"Astarion?" you asked upon entering.

He was sitting on his cushions, staring blankly at the wall. At the sound of your voice, he turned to look at you with a distant expression, and you immediately knew something was wrong.

"Are you still mad at me from this morning's fight?" you asked, sitting down next to him.

He let out a sigh and shook his head. "No, it's not that," he replied.

You frowned, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What is it then? You know you can tell me," you said softly.

Astarion hesitated, his inner turmoil evident in the clench of his jaw. After a long moment, he finally spoke. "I can't...not tonight. I need to be alone," he rasped out before turning away, unable to meet your gaze.

Your heart dropped at his words, the worry and concern evident in your expression. You knew that Astarion wasn't one to push you away, at least not without a valid reason.

You didn't want to leave him like this but knew that he needed this space right now, so you gave him a small smile and silently went back to your tent.

BONUS

The next day, you tried to focus on other things, helping the group with their tasks and keeping your mind occupied. But as night fell and you lay in your bedroll, you couldn't shake off the worry that gnawed at your insides. What if this was about your confession? What if you had overstepped ahead of time and he couldn't reciprocate?

You turned over restlessly, unable to find a comfortable position. Finally, with a heavy sigh, you got up to go to Astarion's tent and at least get some answers. But just as you were about to open it, the flap of your own tent was pulled back and Astarion stepped inside, a conflicted look on his face. Before you could even utter a word, he spoke first.

"Forgive me for my odd behavior last night," he began, his voice low and hesitant. "I've been trying to figure out everything."

You sat down in your bedroll again, giving him your full attention as he took a seat next to you. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, unsure of what was coming. He let out a sigh and leaned his head against your shoulder.

"What's wrong?" you asked gently, placing a comforting hand on his cheek.

"I just...I've been thinking about what you said that night," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What did I say?" you asked, not wanting to assume anything.

He took a deep breath before answering. "That you are in love with me."

Your heart skipped a beat at those words.

"Did...did I misunderstand?" Astarion asked hesitantly, looking up at you with uncertainty in his eyes.

"No," you replied firmly, cupping his face in your hands. "I meant every word I said that night. I'm in love with you, Astarion."

He seemed to take a moment to absorb the weight of your words, his eyes blinking slowly as he searched your face. A myriad of expressions flickered across his features — surprise, fear, and finally... sadness.

"I... I am sorry, but I can't fully reciprocate right now, with everything going on," he confessed, his voice strained with an unfamiliar vulnerability. His admission made your heart clench, but before any words could escape your mouth, he continued.

"I've never been in love before. I'm not sure what it's supposed to feel like, what it's supposed to be. But I know I have this...this feeling that keeps me close to you, that keeps my thoughts wandering back to you no matter where I am or what I am doing..." he paused, turning to look at you with a softness in his eyes that made your heart flutter wildly in your chest, "and I hope that is enough for now."

A wave of relief washed over you at his confession and all the worry you have been carrying seemed to disappear all at once. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, a warmth spreading through your chest.

Astarion returned the hug, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, just holding each other tightly. It was a mix of emotions, knowing that Astarion was not yet able to return your feelings in full, but at the same time, you felt grateful and content knowing you had each other.

"Thank you for telling me," you whispered against his hair, pulling back slightly to look up at him. "I will wait for you, all you need."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and you couldn't help but mirror it. Astarion leaned down and pressed his lips to yours in a gentle small kiss. It was soft and sweet, sending a warmth spreading through your body.

You both curled up in the bedroll, Astarion enveloping you with his arms in a protective embrace. And at that moment, you were certain - if the vampire still had a heart, it would be beating for you alone right now.

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Summary: When Noah was left alone to take care of his daughter about two years ago, he never thought he would find someone else he would trust enough to include in his little family. But things can change.

Tw: parent abandoning their child, fluff, angst

Series masterlist

The afternoon sun filtered through the living room window and cast a swath of gold over Noah's house. You were sitting crossed-legged on the couch, watching Luna play silently, her small hands precisely set her favorite toys in a small, neat row, where Mr. Flop, her favorite bunny, had proudly taken the central point, guiding whatever game was in her head.

You smiled at her concentration, something warm blooming in your chest.

She was a perfect blend of Noah's features, a mirror image of him in her own way. She had his warm, deep brown eyes with his same subtle almond shape, dark hair, with a way chubbier face.

Noah leaned against the counter in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. Some brown locks fell over his eyes as they darted between you and his daughter in quiet contemplation and hesitation.

You could tell something was on his mind. It had been incredible between you and Noah in the past few months, but there was one part of his life he'd held carefully at arm's length: Luna.

That wasn't because he didn't trust you, you knew that. It was deeper than that, more complicated. He was protective of her in a way hard to explain unless you knew the full story, which he had only recently begun sharing with you.

It had been late one night, just the two of you curled up on his couch after Luna had gone to bed, when Noah first opened up about the relationship with his ex. In the beginning, it had been passionate-whirlwind-type love, felt like the kind that could move mountains.

But once Luna was born, everything shifted. She was never ready for the reality of being a mother, and slowly but surely, it dawned on him that with each passing day, she actually resented it. Noah tried to understand her, tried to support her in whatever way he could, but nothing seemed to help. The more he tried, the more she pulled away.

One night, Noah had come home to an empty house. No note, no explanation, just Luna, not even a year old yet, lying in her crib, and complete silence in every room. His ex was gone, had walked out on both of them, and though Noah tried to reach out, tried to get her to come back, she never did.

From that moment on, he'd vowed to protect Luna from anything or anyone that might hurt her. Or perhaps that was his way to protect himself, too.

You both were up late, the only sound in his living room coming from a small lamp in the corner of the room, its dim light.

Noah was sitting next to you on the couch, his back hunched and his elbows to his knees as he stared into the floor for thought collection. You knew he had been carrying something heavy in his head for quite some time.

"I never thought that I'd ever be a single parent," he said gruffly, as though the words hurt him to utter. "But then again, after what happened …I don't really see my life in any other way anymore. She is everything to me."

He stopped, rubbing a hand over his face, and in those eyes you could almost see his tiredness, not physical, but an emotional toll, when one carries so much on his shoulders alone. You said nothing, just let him work through the words at his own pace. You could feel his vulnerability hang between you like some fragile thing he was just willing to show you.

"I didn't have time to process what happened," Noah whispered. "One day I'm in this relationship and we're trying to make it work for Luna, and the next… she's gone. Just like that. I came home and she'd left. No explanation. No good-bye."

Your heart ached with the pain in his tone, even now raw with emotion.

“I didn’t know what the hell I was doing,”, he admitted, shaking his head. Just like that, it was him and Luna against the world.

"I was fucking terrified" he said, the corner of his lip curling up in a self-deprecating smile. "I had to figure out how to be a dad by myself, how to balance that with the band, how to be there for her when I was barely holding it together myself."

He glanced up at you then, his eyes warm with appreciation and a little fear. "She's the reason I'm so careful, you know? With relationships, with people in general. I don't ever want to bring someone into her life unless I am really sure."

He paused, his throat swallowing hard as his eyes drop once again to the floor. You could tell there was more he wanted to say, but it was hard for him to speak.

"I'm scared that…," he started, then had to force himself to continue, his voice faltering. "I'm scared that you're mad at me. Or disappointed, maybe. That I'm taking things too slow with you. That I haven't fully… let you in yet. It's not because I don't care about you, because I do. A lot. It's just—"

"Noah," you said softly, leaning in closer to him. "I'm not mad. I'm not disappointed. I get it, why you want to be careful. It's okay."

His eyes finally met yours, surprise flickering in them. He had been so consumed by his fear of messing things up that it hadn't occurred to him you might actually understand where he was coming from.

"You've been through much," you went on, your voice soft but clear. "And I get why you'd want to protect Luna. I'd be more concerned if you were being anything less than careful, honestly. It says how much you love her, and how much you want to do right by her. And I respect that, Noah. I'm not going anywhere."

He blinked, like he was trying to absorb what you were saying, his shoulders loosening as your words soaked in. You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. His hand closed around yours, clasping at it like he was holding onto something solid for the first time in a long while.

"I can wait," you said with an even voice. "You need more time, I'm waiting. I do care for you, for both of you. And I don't want to make anything if you are not ready yet. What matters to me is that we're moving forward, even if it's slow."

Noah's breath slightly caught, emotion swelling up in his eyes as he continued to carry that weight for such a long time, terrified that by taking things slow, he was pushing you away, when all you wanted was to meet him where he was.

"I don't know how to do that," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I've been so scared of screwing this up, of screwing us up. But you… you've just been there."

You smiled softly and squeezed his hand. "You've been hurt, Noah. And it takes time to heal from that. I'm not here to hurry you or push you into something that you're not ready for. I am here because I care about you. And I care about Luna. I want you only to know that I'm in this for the long haul whenever you're ready."

He breathed shakily, his forehead leaning forward to rest against yours while his hand remained tightly wrapped around yours. You could feel the tension start to seep from him, replaced by a silent sort of relief that he didn't have to bear the burden of his fears alone anymore.

"Thank you." he whispered, his voice full of gratitude. "For understanding. For being… you."

You pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, silently communicating that he had nothing to thank you for, that this was where you wished to be.

You saw Noah in all his completeness: a good father, a man who had been wounded but kept trying, learning how to trust once more. You were more than ready to wait for him to fully open up that part of his heart.

You sat in that silence, the weight of the past there still, yet lighter now. You knew Noah still had a really long way to go before letting go of all the pain he had been carrying with him, but you knew he was on his way. You would be here every step of the way, to build something real, something lasting, with him and with Luna.

Now, months after you and Noah had started dating, you were sitting in the middle of that guarded space he had created around her.

Now you knew why he was being so careful, why he had not pushed for more interaction between you and Luna.

She meant the world to him, and after all she had been through, he would never risk anything that could disrupt her life. But still, you waited. You had cared for Noah, and by that extension already cared for Luna, too. So you gave him the time he needed to let you in.

Today, though, there was something different in the air, something to let you know Noah was about to take a step forward.

"Hey," Noah finally said, breaking the comfortable silence that had overcome the room. He set his coffee cup down and rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous quirk you'd come to know well. "Can I ask you a favor?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Of course. What's up?"

He turned to Luna, still deep in her toys, and back to you again. He paused a beat, you basically saw the cogs turning as he picked his words with all care.

"The band's got a thing later today, just some planning stuff for the new album. I was supposed to go meet the guys, but…" He trailed off, gesturing toward Luna with a helpless look. "Usually, I ask one of them, but they are all busy today."

You chuckled softly at that, imagining Luna in the hands of Noah’s bandmates. As much as they loved her, you knew they weren’t exactly all equipped for child care even if you were sure they all deeply cared about her.

"So… you want me to stay with her?"

Noah nodded, his expression softening as he met your gaze. "Yeah. If you're okay with it. I mean, I know it's last minute and I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, but—"

"Noah," you interrupted softly, standing up and walking over to him. You reached out, resting your hand on his arm. "It's okay. I'd love to stay with her."

He exhaled, the relief washing over his features, but there was still that damned hesitation in his eyes. You knew how big of a deal this was for him, trusting someone with Luna, especially after everything he'd been through.

"Are you sure?" he asked more quietly now. "I mean, she's really shy, with most people and with you too, and I don't want any of you to feel uncomfortable."

You smiled, leaning up to press a kiss against his cheek. "I'll be fine. We'll be fine. She just needs time, that's all. And I think she got her shyness from her dad."

Noah closed his eyes for a second, his head slightly leaned into your touch before pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead. When he pulled back, his eyes were different, warm and a deep well of silent appreciation.

"Thank you," he whispered. "This… this means so much."

Now, you were sitting on the floor, after Noah had gone off to his band meeting. At first, Luna had been quiet, keeping to herself to play with her toys, but bit by bit, she'd started to warm up toward you, like you'd wanted.

You leaned forward for Mr. Flop, the stuffed bunny, and held him out to her with a playing grin. "You think Mr. Flop needs some tea?"

Luna's eyes sparkled, a shy smile overspreading her face as she nodded vigorously. "Yes! He is very thirsty."

You laughed softly, watching her scurry over to her tiny plastic tea set. She first poured an imaginary cup of tea for Mr. Flop and then one for you. As she handed you the pretend tea, your heart swelled with affection for this little girl who was letting you into her world slowly, piece by piece.

"Thanks, Luna," he said, making a big show of taking a sip. "This is the best tea I've ever had."

She giggled, her cheeks blushing with pride. For several moments, the two of you played in comfortable silence, with her showing you through the rules of the tea party.

"You think Mr. Flop would like to go on an adventure?" you asked after some time, breaking the silence as Luna finished pouring more imaginary tea.

With eyes aglow with excitement, she said, "Yes! He loves adventures!"

"Okay, where shall we go?" you asked, leaning in conspiratorially.

Luna tapped her chin, and then a huge grin spread over her face. "The jungle! I love jungle! Dad loves jungle too! We have to find the lost treasure!"

You gasped melodramatically. "The jungle? Wait. Noah made you listen...nevermind. That does sound dangerous! You think we can make it?"

She laughed again, her head bobbing up and down quickly. "We can do it! Mr. Flop is very brave."

And then you both launched into your make-believe jungle adventure. The shyness had left Luna by now, replaced by a bubbly, fearless energy that took your heart soaring.

The front door creaked open a couple of hours later when Noah returned home, but you didn't notice him first, too caught up in the game with Luna sitting next to you on the floor.

Noah stood in the doorway, watching the both of you, and his heart swelled in his chest. He had always known you were special, knew from the moment he met you that there was something different about you, but seeing you now, playing with Luna, made him feel something he hadn't felt in years.

Love, not just for you, but for the idea of you becoming a part of him and Luna's lives in a deeper way.

When you finally saw him standing there, you smiled. "Hey, you're back!" you said. Noah nodded, stepping closer, his eyes soft. "Yeah, I'm back."

Luna ran to him and wrapped her arms around his legs as he scooped her up, holding her close to his chest for a moment before turning back to you. "You two seemed to have fun."

Noah had Luna in his arms, babbly excitedly about some "jungle adventure" and lost treasure. He listened intently, though his eyes never left you. There was something there in his gaze, something so raw and deep, that made your heart go racing. It wasn't the usual softness, the usual affection, it was heavier, like something nestled between you when nothing was said.

"We did," you said, smiling at Luna as she continued her excited recount of the day. "We found the lost treasure, and Mr. Flop was the hero of the day."

Luna giggled, snuggling into Noah's chest as she added her own details. "We were very brave, Daddy! Mr. Flop was so good at being quiet, and we didn't get eaten!"

Noah chuckled, brushing a hand through her hair as he kissed her forehead. "Sounds like you had quite the adventure."

"Yes! We had a lot of fun. And your friend is amazing. I want to play with her again. I think she is my friend too now."

Noah smiled, his brown eyes full of affection for the both of you. "I'm glad you made a new friend. We'll ask her again, okay?"

Luna nodded, her eyelids drooping as the excitement of the day finally started to catch up with her and she rested her head against the soft fabric of his dad's hoodie. Noah glanced at you over her head, a soft smile tugging at his lips once again.

"Would you like to help me get her ready for bed?" he whispered, and with Luna nuzzling her head into the crook of his shoulder, half-asleep.

You nodded, and your heart fluttered with the thought. This felt like some sort of minor but meaningful step in being included in the nighttime routine, part of something as personal and intimate as this.

All three went into Luna's room together. It was not a big room, but it was cozy with soft toys, bookshelves, and a little carpet that glittered from strings of tiny fairy lights.

Noah was soon to gently lay Luna down into her bed, and you sat down beside him, watching as he tucked her in, his hands moving with the sort of practiced ease that came from more than two years of being a single parent. You leaned over, setting Mr. Flop down beside Luna, who smiled sleepily as she cuddled the bunny close.

Noah leaned over her, placing a gentle kiss against her forehead with tenderness that would ache your chest. "Goodnight, sweetheart," he whispered into her hair. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

"Goodnight, daddy," she muttered the tone in her voice drowsy. Then her tiny eyes flickered open just enough to glance at you. "Goodnight Y/N."

You smiled warmly, your heart swelling in the simplest of words. "Goodnight, Luna."

After several minutes of quiet whispers and soothing reassurances, she fell asleep, her breathing evening into the quiet rhythm of her sleep. Noah leaned forward and pressed another soft kiss to her forehead before he eased himself up, motioning you to follow him from the room.

As the door is shut quietly behind you, he let out a very, very long breath, running his hand through his hair, leaning against the wall.

"Thanks," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "For sticking with her. For being so… incredible with her."

You shrugged. "She's a pretty amazing kid. It wasn't hard."

Noah turned fully toward you now, his eyes searching yours with a sort of intensity that hitched your breath. His hand rose and delicately swept a strand of hair back behind your ear, where it lingered on the side of your face. His thumb tracing the line of your jaw sent you leaning into his touch, your heart beating with each passed second a little faster.

"I never knew whether I would find anybody that could fit in this part of my life," he whispered, his voice not a decibel over a whisper. "With Luna, after what happened… I felt I needed to keep her world small, you know? Keep it safe. I didn't want to bring someone in that might hurt her."

His eyes welled with that same vulnerability you had seen before, and you knew how hard this was for him, to open up, to let you into this part of his life he had guarded so much.

"You don't have to worry about that," you said softly, laying your hand over his. "I would never hurt her. Or you."

Noe's thumb stroked over your cheek, his eyes sealing to yours in an tight seriousness, as if you were the only person existing. "I know. That's why I love you."

The words hung between you and him, heavy with tension. You couldn't breathe for a second, heart pounding in your chest as you tried processing what he just said. He loved you.

You hadn't expected it, not so soon, not in that moment, but the way he looked at you, the way he had been with Luna, it made sense. It wasn't just the two of them anymore; it was all three, the small family that had formed.

A soft smile overspreads your face as you looked up at him, your hand clenching a little tighter around his. "I love you too, Noah."

The relief in his expression was genuine, and for him at least, it was as though the weight had finally been pulled off his shoulders. He pulled you into his arms, and you wrapped yours around him, holding close as he buried his face in your hair, breathing you in like he couldn’t believe you were real.

And for a long time, neither of them said anything. They only stood there with each other, wrapped in their own warmth, and the silence just told it all.

Then Noah leaned back, just a little, just enough to look down at you. And then his eyes were deeper and surer.

"I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't met you," he whispered huskily. "I don't think I even knew how much I needed someone like you, not just for me but for Luna, too."

You reached up and brushed a thumb over his cheek. "You're an amazing dad, Noah. You've done everything right for her. But you don't have to do it alone anymore."

He closed his eyes, like almost to let your words sink in. Opening them a second later, there was something soft, something vulnerable, that made you want to pull him closer still.

"I don't want to do it alone anymore," he whispered with his forehead against yours. "I want this. Us. You and me, and Luna. I want a family."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you nodded, your voice barely louder than a whisper. "Me too."

Noah's arms tugged closer, his lips finding yours in a gentle unhurried kiss that felt almost like a vow, like a start, the type of kiss that spoke of love, of trust, of a future that finally was starting to feel real.

He drew back and his eyes shone bright now with a happiness in them that hadn't been there before. He reached down, took your hand in his, and guided you back onto the couch. You sat together in the quiet glow of the livingroom.

You knew you would have one of those movie nights where you definitely fall asleep in his arms on the couch.

Noah for once in a long while felt something he hadn't dared to believe in, peace. Peace in knowing that he didn't have to protect himself and Luna anymore. Peace in knowing he was finally able to let you in, fully without any fear.

You sat there, his arm around you, knowing this was only the beginning of something beautiful: a life no more his or yours, but one which both of you had started building together.

hello friends in my phone! would you like more parts of this? (｡◕‿◕｡)

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @mathfairchild1 @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lma1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme

TBAF Tags: @aubrey-melinoe

[luveline]

would you ever be willing to write the day spencer and stripper!reader met in the grocery store? i’ve always loved the concept when you’ve referenced it in the story, i would love to read it👀 you’re absolutely incredible and i can never say anything not anon to you because my blog is flooding you with notes constantly and i’m embarrassed😅

thank you for your request ❤️ fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for domestic violence and workplace abuse

There's this weird organic grocery store by Spencer's place that's far too expensive, but it's a ten minute walk, so that's where he goes. (Weird in separation to organic.) 

He needs a lot of groceries now he's home for the week. Bread, vegetables, rice, flour if he wants to try and make pancakes, which he does. He also needs a new pen to write a letter for his mom, but Leaven is slightly too small for a stationery section. 

He doesn't know what he'll say to her in this one. Maybe that the cases he's going on are easy, or that he's been reading about crows. She's not feeling well lately. It might help her to know he's doing gentle things, even if it isn't true. 

No, he thinks. Can't lie to her. He never lies to his mom. 

Eggs. Sugar. Coffee grounds. He fills his cart. It'll be a lot to carry on the way home, but better to do it in one go. He likes keeping busy but he's a human being, too, and he's looking forward to spending at least sixteen hours in bed after dinner tonight. 

You look tired, too. 

Your back is turned, but Spencer knows it's you. You must live close by, he's been seeing you duck in and out for months. Usually with a loaf of bread or a single box of painkillers tucked in your pocket. You don't steal, he'd be able to tell, and he wouldn't say anything if you did, anyways. All he knows about you is that you have a nice smile when you have the energy, and your voice is like silk. Purposeful or by nature, he's yet to guess. 

You're standing by the end of the aisle near the checkouts with a basket hanging from your fingers. All you're buying today is a box of pancake mix and a bag of peas. 

Weird, he thinks with a smile. Spencer likes weird stuff. It's quirky. 

You turn to see which checkout is empty and Spencer's smile abruptly drops. 

You have a bruise across half of your face. It isn't strictly fresh —he can see the split skin on your cheek starting to close in on itself, and your purpled eye is open (though barely). You're frowning. Spencer knows how bad it hurts to get hurt like that. For a split second he can't believe someone could do that to another person, and then he remembers the hundreds of women he's had the privilege to meet at their most vulnerable, who trusted him, and he thinks maybe he's capable of helping another one. 

“Hey,” he says. 

You meet his eyes with a funny smile. “Hey. Sorry, am I in the way?” you ask, your voice stretched, thin but not weak. 

“No, you're not, it's… I see you here all the time.” 

You hold your breath. When you talk, it rushes out. “So?” you ask wearily.

“Are you okay?” 

Your funny smile fades as Spencer's had. He supposes that's the talent of cruelty. Even when it's over, it's not truly over. Your bruise still hurts, and Spencer still needs to know you'll be okay when you go home tonight. 

“I see you all the time too. We've… we've actually spoken before, haven't we?” you ask after a moment. 

“Yeah, about spirometry. I was out of breath running and–” It doesn't matter. You asked him if he was okay, and he explained that he was, just that his lungs don't hold much air on account of his own laziness, and it doesn't matter. “Are you? Alright? It's a bad bruise.” 

“It's getting better.” 

It might be, but there's something so raw about seeing you standing there in your sweatpants too big for you and a hoodie with a hole in it, purple and yellow contusion across your eyes and nose like the clumsy stroke of a paintbrush. Spencer will admit to feeling sorry for you.

“Can I talk to you?” he asks, knowing this isn't the right place. “There's the cafe at the front? Let me pay for my stuff and–” 

“I'm really okay–” 

“You had a cast on your wrist two weeks ago and now you're here with a limp and a really bad bruise,” he says softly, imploringly, “I just wanna talk to you about it. You don't have to say yes, I'm not trying to be weird, but I–” 

You cut off his mile a minute speech with a small smile. “Okay. I'm not, you know, doing anything anyways. It'll be nice to sit down.” 

Spencer knows it's dumb, but he wants to show he has good intentions. He takes your basket out of your hands and nods toward the cafe past the checkouts. “I'll come and meet you.” 

“You don't have to,” you say, gesturing at the basket. 

“The damage is done, right? This place is ridiculous.” He doesn't like the way you're holding your hip. It makes him feel sick, even though there's no proof one way or another to say you've been hurt beyond your bruising.

He pays for his things and yours and meets you at the cafe. He's half expecting you to have bolted, but you sit at a table near the entrance, completely still. 

Spencer puts his two bags under the table and offers you your pancake mix and peas in their own bag. 

“Thanks.” 

“Yeah, no problem.” 

“It was my boss.” You look at your fingers, spreading them slowly over the table top. “I’m a dancer. Sorry. I know you’re going to ask.” 

“And he hit you?” 

“Yeah.” 

Spencer knows the number for every women’s shelter in every state, but he doubts it would matter to you. He can tell already that you’d say no. He can tell you’re scared, even if you don’t realise it yourself. “Is it getting worse?”

You can’t offer him anything else. He understands how that feels. There have been moments where he desperately wanted to tell someone, anyone, what was going on in his life, but he always holds his secrets like a perpetual ache in his throat. It’s like he can’t tell someone, even if they ask. 

Sometimes he just wishes they’d ask twice. 

“You can tell me. It won’t sound stupid,” he promises. He’s in some odd place between Agent Reid and young, terrified Spencer, determined to help you, but not sure how. “It’s getting worse, right?” 

“Yeah,” you say, the weight of tears on your tongue. 

“You’re a dancer. Is he just a boss– Does he… abuse you financially?” 

You laugh wetly. “He’s not my pimp.” 

He can feel his face heating up.’“No, but do you get paid on time? Everything you earn?” 

You shake your head. “No, I don’t get paid on time. He takes a percentage, and somehow there’s always another percentage, and then discipline. And now…” 

“Now he’s hitting you.” Very badly. 

“I’m not stupid.” 

Spencer frowns gently, talks softly, “I didn’t mean to imply that you were.” 

“No, I know, but I need you to know I’m not stupid. When we talked before, you– you’re so smart, I bet you know so many smart people.” 

He’s not sure where you’re going with this. Perhaps you don’t want to talk about being hurt anymore. It must be a kind of torture to be hurting and know that that hurting will come again. There isn’t an end in sight for you, just right now. 

“Can I buy you something to eat?” 

“I have money,” you say, taking your small purse from your pocket. There are a few notes wedged inside. 

“You can’t take painkillers on an empty stomach, and you should take painkillers again soon. You had some before you came, and they’re wearing off.” He meets your confused frown with a frown of his own. “Your hands are twitching like you want to move away from yourself.” 

“You’re very perceptive,” you say in that smooth murmur. Power clawed back, he thinks. You’re protecting one of the things you can control about how you’re seen when everything else is far from it. 

“I’m a profiler. Do you,” —he tries not to sound hoity toity— “know what that is?” 

“No.” 

“I’m an FBI agent.” You’re laughing as he takes out his badge. He joins you. “I know it sounds like I’m making it up.” Spencer offers you his identification passport slowly, so you know he isn’t wielding it around to be an asshole. “I’m in the behavioural analysis unit. We analyse the way people act. That’s why I know you’re in pain.” 

You take his badge, looking between his photo and his real face with a growing smile. “If you need all that to know I’m in pain, you’re not as smart as you think,” you tease, gesturing to the mottled skin of your bruise sweetly. 

Spencer buys you both cold sandwiches from the front of the shop and a drink to wash down your aspirin. It’s awkward, he guesses, but he’s used to that by now, and under it he can feel your palpable relief. You trust him to not hurt you, if nothing else, and he can work with that. 

[createdbytragedy]

HERE FOR YOU, WITH YOU

⋆｡°✩Pairing: Lee Minho x reader ⋆｡°✩Genre: Fluff, angst, hurt with comfort ⋆｡°✩Warning(s): mentions of trauma, very brief but use of words like alcohol, blood, not proofread

"I'm sorry I wasn't there when you were little, I would've iced the bruises on your back."

"What's wrong with you?" Minho asked, you looked at him surprised. Nothing was wrong with you. Why would he ask that?

"Nothing's wrong with me, Why would you ask that?" you asked back, looking into his unblinking eyes. He was studying your features like a detective trying to solve a mystery and it made you somewhat nervous.

"You look like you're in pain," he stated, piercing into your eyes. You tried to ignore the uneasy feeling on your chest and muster up a smile.

"Babe, what are you -" "No"

"What do you mean 'no'? I haven't even said anything yet!" you protested. Minho approached you from his seat to sit with you on the couch, where you were curled up with a blanket and some popcorns, watching 90's movies.

"You are not giving me any of your 'I'm fine, just tired' excuses, today," and before you knew it, the T.V was shut down, your blanket was snatched from you and you had Minho standing in front of you with a look you can't explain, " Tell me about yourself tonight, love. it's so unfair that we laugh together and you cry alone."

Everything was happening so quick. The rapid beating of your heart didn't help either. Your palm felt sweaty as Minho's words register inside your mind. You didn't know if you were ready to share everything with him yet. The past haunts you. It scare you. It broke you. And Minho just wanted to mend those cuts.

You tear your gaze away from him and looked straight ahead, your mind overflowing with horrible flashbacks and memories. Cuts and bruises. Blood and alcohol. You see everything you feared. Everything that broke the light within you.

Minho noticed this all. He always have. From the start. He knew there was something darker behind those shimmering gold eyes of yours. He knew you had a secret nobody cared to pry out, and he wanted to be the first one to hear it. He knew he'd love you even after hearing all the terrible things you did. He knew he'd love you even if your eyes no longer shined and sparkle the way it used to. He knew he'd love you until his last breath. Until every star of the universe died.

"Minho......... why now?" your voice sounded raw and timid, something it had never sound before. It didn't sound like the fake cheery tone you always greet everyone with. And he liked it.

"If not now, then when, love?" he repeats, looking into your eyes. Pleadingly. Desperately. Like trying to convince you that he is, in fact, trustworthy and capable of your love ,"I know you're suffering. But, don't do it alone. Let me help you. Share it with me."

"Its in the past, Min"

"Not if it still haunts you. " the silence that followed this time felt tensed and heavy, unlike the usual silence between you two. Minho took your hand and gently rubbed circles in them," you don't have to if you don't want to but I just wanted to let you know, I'm here. Whether you need me or not, and up until the last star of the universe dies, I'll be here. Right by your side."

His comforting words soothes your heart, and you feel yourself leaning into his touch. You trusted Minho. You really do. You trusted him more than yourself, in fact, you didn't know if you trusted yourself. He has been nothing but comforting and warm to you. And he loved you. That you can see in the way he holds you at night, in the way he shows his vulnerable side to you, the way he kisses you. You could feel his love in every breath of his and maybe, just maybe, you were willing to let him take care of you.

"Trust me, you don't wanna know"

Minho kissed your forehead in return, whispering, "trust me, you don't know how much I do."

You let out a sigh. Tonight, you were opening a jar you have kept away for too long. And you're scared the sharp edges might cut you again. But, this time Minho would be there to tend the wound. You knew he would. How could you forget when he reminds you everyday?

"Go ahead, baby, tell me every terrible thing you did and let me love you anyways," this time, you looked eyes with him. And you see nothing but love and adoration.

"It was my fault." you started. Minho didn't know what you meant but he knew it wasn't your fault. It never was yet you still blamed yourself and clean up someone else's mess.

He shifted in his seat and made you stand up. You looked at him confused until he open up his arms and invite you to sit on his lap," its your favorite seat, right?"

You couldn't help but smile as you settled into his lap, his arms around you and feeling safe and secure. He other hand stroked your head, soothingly playing with your hair as you told him about your biggest fears in the dim light of the night.

You told him about the household you grew up in. The heartbreak you went through. The depression that took over you. That night, you spilled your deepest secrets to Minho. Letting the words slip with no second thought. And you couldn't help yourself when he promised to love you despite all these. and you knew he wasn't lying by the way he looked at you. His eyes turning teary at your words, his fingers resting against yours would gently rub his thumb on your knuckles, calming him down. And when you were done and tears flowed from your eyes, he lets you. Rubbing your back soothingly as he whispered sweet nothings to you. But somehow, the tears felt so final for you. You felt lighter. Like a weight off your shoulder. It felt like the tears you were shedding carried the pain to be never experienced again. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you when you were little," he tells you, cupping your face and wiping away tears with his thumb," I would've iced the bruises on your back," And somehow, his acceptance made you more emotional, knowing that he still liked you even after all this shit. "shh.. that's enough now, baby, don't cry,he cooed, smiling at you softly. You hiccuped, grabbing onto his shirt tightly like you were scared he was gonna leave. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? i'm right here," "I'm--I'm sorry," you sniffed, wiping your tears, "i'm a mess," Minho frowned at that, making you look at him, "You're not. Even if you are, you're my mess and I'll take care of you." "It's rotten work," "Not to me," he smiled," not if its you," And something about the way he said that, it made your tears stop. When he looked at you like there was something in you worth looking at, you can't help but fall into his embrace, craving in to the desire of wanting to be taken care of for once. You rested your head against his chest and he stroked your hair, letting you listen to his heartbeat. You stayed like that for a while, calming down and listening to his breathing. Neither of you said a word, the silence loud enough that you wanted to be taken care of and Minho will gladly take up that work. "Minho?" you whispered. "Hm?" "thank you. For everything" He kissed your head, "Shh...go to sleep. I'll fight off the bad dreams when they come,"

[ponderingmoonlight]

Quote and character request. Levi Ackerman. "You don't have to love everything about me; that means you're actually looking at me"

Beneath the Armor

Pairing: Levi x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,2k

Synopsis: You searches everywhere for Levi Ackerman. But when you finally find him, he acts cold as eyes, doesn't even want to talk to you. Word after word his true intentions reveal...

Warnings: Levi is very self conscious in this fic due to how the war left him - if that's too negative for you or simly not your style keep on scrolling. Hurt to comfort, fluff fluff fluff

The room is tense, thick with the lingering echoes of your argument. You can’t believe it. You traveled for what felt like ages, turned the whole planet upside down in order to finally see that man again. And him? He avoids you at all cost, ignores you while you’re standing right in front of him.

You clench your fist, gleaming eyes staring at him through the thick silence. All of that, after you spent one night together, after you finally started trusted another human being fully.

The air feels heavy, each of you standing on opposite sides of a dark hallway that only seems to widen with every passing second.

Levi’s clenches his jaw, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes, normally so calculating and composed, flash with a rare anger. It’s not often that you two fight like this. But when you do, it feels like the world is tilting off its axis. You’re both too used to being strong, too used to being in control. And now, that strength is clashing, neither of you willing to yield.

Can’t you understand that he did all of this to protect you?

“You don’t get it,” you spit at him, voice trembling with frustration.

“You shut me out, Levi. You push me away every time I try to get close. And that after I searched the whole fucking world for you.”

He doesn’t immediately respond, his silence only adding to the tension. When he finally speaks up, his voice is low, almost dangerous, like the calm before a storm.

“And maybe you’re better off that way. Maybe it’s easier if you don’t get too close.”

The words sting like a flat-palmed slap, causing your heart to tighten in your chest. It’s as if he’s trying to push you away on purpose, as if he’s testing to see how far he can go before you finally give up. But you’re not ready to let him off that easily. Not when you spent weeks trying to find him over here.

“Why?” you demand, taking a step closer, your voice rising with emotion.

“Why do you keep pushing me away? What are you so afraid of?”

Levi’s eyes flash again, but this time, there’s something else there - something darker, more vulnerable. He turns away from you, as if he can’t bear to face you head-on, his shoulders tense and rigid.

“I’m not afraid,” he mutters, but there’s a crack in his voice that betrays him.

“Then what is it?” you press out, not willing to let this go.

“Why do you keep trying to make me hate you? Why are you running away from me?”

He spins back to face you, his expression torn between anger and something else, something raw, something painful.

“Because if you don’t hate me, you’ll see me for what I really am,” he says, his voice rough with emotion.

“And I don���t know if I can handle that.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of his confession. Who he really is? You eye him up and down, take in his blind eye, his missing fingers, his overall worn-out figure. Is he really talking about how this war changed his appearance? No, he can’t believe you’re that superficial, right? Did he really push you away because he thought you’d stop loving him now? For a moment, you’re both silent.

“You believe I don’t love you anymore”, you finally speak up.

“I can’t believe you think that-“

“You don’t have to love everything about me,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

There’s a softness to his tone now, a tenderness that wasn’t there before as well as a new-found fragility. His hand reaches out, hesitant at first, before resting on your arm.

“That means you’re actually looking at me. Seeing me for who I really am. But I understand that…You might not want me anymore.”

You feel like giggling and breaking down at the same time. Why would that man ever think that he isn’t good enough for you anymore, that you’d throw him away like trash? But he’s letting his guard down, exposing a side of himself that he rarely shows, a side that’s scared and unsure, but also hopeful. Hopeful that maybe, just maybe, you’ll see him and still choose to stay.

“I’m not perfect,” he continues, his gaze never leaving yours.

“I’ve done things… things I’m not proud of. I look even worse than I did back then. And I don’t expect you to love me. I just want you to know that I’m trying. Trying to be better, trying to be the man I was before, for you. I just…can’t change that shitty body.”

His hand moves from your arm to your cheek, his touch gentle, almost reverent. But still, he doesn’t dare to look you in the eyes, his voice still muted and covered in agony.

Is this the reason why he never tried to reach you, never tried to find you? Because he thought you’d never look at him again the way you did before all of this? Humanity’s strongest losing his whole confidence over something so minor, something that actually makes you admire him even more.

His thumb brushes over your skin, wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen.

“I want you to stay. But if you can’t love me like that, I’ll leave right away” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

His words hang between you, raw and unfiltered. That lack of self-esteem, all the horrible things he had to endure while you were gone. What did he see? What did he feel? With each passing minute, your heart swells up more and more. For that man who risked everything including his precious life for a world you’d be safe in. For that man who know stands in front of you and thinks he isn’t good enough for you.

“I see you, Levi,” you say softly, your voice trembling with the weight of your own emotions.

“I see you, and I’m not going anywhere. Those scars,”

Gently, you allow your finger to wander over the faint scar that covers the skin around his blinded eye.

“Those hands that hold my entire world,”

You take his hand in yours tenderly.

“Do you really think I’ll leave you over something like this when I searched the world upside down just to see you again?”

A flicker of relief passes through his eyes, and for the first time in what feels like forever, Levi allows himself to hope. And for the first time since he can think, he’s glad to see your tears paired with that loving look in your eyes. Will you really…stay with him?

“Please don’t push me away. I still need you in my life”, you mutter before lunging yourself at him.

Like countless times before, you rest your head against his shoulder, wrap your arms around him in fear that you’ll lose him any given minute. That precious but stoic man who drove you insane more than once, that man who never failed to argue with you.

That man, humanity’s strongest. The love of your life.

“Fine, brat”, he grumbles before stroking through your hair.

“But I’ll leave if you make fun of me.”

“I’ll always make fun of you half-pint.”

Tags:

@lees-chaotic-brain @sanicsmut @levislegislation @istglevi-gotmesimping

[yandereunsolved]

When you have the time, yandere chain reaction to reader wanting to help by making dishes from our world for them? Like pizza, breaded chicken, spaghetti, lasagna, grilled cheese sandwiches,ect. Dishes you don't see in hyrule ya know? Maybe they first got to cook for them when wild is too exhausted or sick to cook? Actually, I don't think they know how to make boiled eggs or popcorn. Be funny if reader invented popcorn for hyrule. Hope you have a great week

Okay, I love this. You too, anon! 𖹭 ( part 2 )

cw: a mention of them possibly crossing your boundaries (at the end)

We'll set the mood by saying The Chain has had an absolutely exhaustive day. They've had to fight off multiple monsters of varying varieties, and to top off the sundae of shit, you have the rotten cherry of all of you being pushed into another portal. You're soaked in things you don't even want to imagine; all of your yanderes are neglecting their health and trying to take care of you; and you are hangry. You end up snapping at them and then getting gaslit for about twenty minutes. 

That's when they learned about the wonderful world of ✨ human cuisine ✨ —peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, meat pies, puff puff, zapiekanka, etc...

You were on the edge of your seat, and Wild was exhausted, so you told them that if they left you alone for an hour, you'd cook for them. After a bit of convincing the more worried and overbearing yanderes, you finally got more than five feet away from them. That's when you cooked a dish from your homeland.

Let me tell you, you just fell into a deeper hole than you already were. They are already dependent on you for love, affection, and attention. Now, they want you to always cook meals for them. They are all trying to get the recipes for your favorite meals out of you so they can win your favor. Naturally, Wild has them outmatched in this sense, and none of them are happy about it.

Wild gets all of your attention when it comes to cooking things. You get to share recipes and learn from each other. Sometimes Sage is able to join since he has more refined cooking abilities, except his Zonai arm always acts up because it reacts to his suppressed yandere tendencies towards you. It's a weird quirk his arm has gotten into. He still isn't sure why. Everyone else in The Chain always tries to undermine Wild's cooking skills when you aren't around. 

It backfires when Wild gets to be the one to cuddle up to you, and he manipulates you by telling you how the others hate him. They hate him because he is different. They hate him because he has you. They hate him because he is everything they are not. It just all seems so vulnerable and raw. Why would you not believe him? Do you not trust him? Do you not love him?

Over all, they are fascinated, and it only feeds into their worship of you. They are enamored by the foods you have brought them. Any of them practically drops dead when you make one of your native snacks for just one of them. Oh my, you made it just for him? No one else. You must really love only that Link! Fierce is even willing to use his deity magic to get ingredients from your world for you. 

How did Fierce do this?

Does this mean he is able to get you home?

No, uh—his power is limited because of the mask. Something, something, a convincing lie to get you to stay and not question him. He is a deity, after all. He knows better than you.

They may crave your food, but there is one thing they long for more—you. How long will you be able to deprive them of your body before they take what is rightfully theirs?

[cyberslvts]

COME BACK TO ME || w.maximoff

Summary: As you struggle to decipher your feelings, it becomes increasingly apparent that Wanda is not willing to let go of what you once had.

Warnings: 18+, angst, arguing, Smut, restraints, fingering (r recieving), oral (r recieving), desperate Wanda(creaming), happy ending.

WC: 6k

a/n: I had way to much fun writing this chapter.

Part 1 || Part 2

———-

Your office was a realm of muted grey and white, the color palette matching the heavy clouds that hung low in the sky outside. The city rain tapped a soothing melody against the windows, filling in the silent gaps of the room. Droplets trickled down the glass panes, distorting the view of the cityscape bellow.

You sat in your swivel chair, your fingers absently tapping a rhythm on the armrest. Your eyes were fixed on the raindrops, as if they held the answers to the turmoil within you.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the cityscape appeared gray and hazy, the tall buildings shrouded in mist. Your thoughts were as cloudy as the weather outside, your heart heavy with unresolved emotions.

The heaviness in your chest matched the atmosphere outside, a weight that had yet to lift since that fateful confrontation. The events of that night constantly replayed in your head, never leaving your mind as if they were following you like your shadow.

Its been about four months since youd last spoken to Wanda. Legal matters and discussions, were conducted solely through your lawyers, a clear boundary you had set. As for Wanda, she was promptly banned from your office building, further deepening the growing rift between you two.

Your eyes felt heavy as you stared out into the city. You had started to spend more time at the office, shwoing up hours before all of your employees, and leaving when the halls of the building were as quiet as the streets bellow. You couldnt stand being in your apartment. The space that once felt like a refuge now held a haunting echo of Wanda, The silence of your home was loud and overwhelming, Each room seemed to be haunted by the ghost of your relationship, a constant reminder of what once was. So you instead chose to bury yourself in your work day and night to try and erase the growing void in your heart.

It was during those late nights at the office that you would catch glimpses of her, seated on the black bench outside your building. The sight of her there was like a ghost from the past, You could see the weariness in her posture, the heaviness in her eyes. She appeared as lost and broken as you felt.

As you stepped out into the night air, your eyes would inevitably find her. Silently sitting, watching cars zip past her. A jolt of surprise would cross her face as she noticed you, and then a flicker of hope. She would scramble to her feet, her gaze locked onto you as she rushed to intercept you before you could walk away.

“Y/n, wait, please,” Your strides were beginning to widen and You could hear the clacking of her heels behind you “Please, I just want to talk.”

Abruptly, you spun around, halting in your tracks. Wanda faltered, her heels nearly causing her to lose her balance as she struggled to come to a stop.

“Fine, then talk,” you stated, your arm extended slightly as if urging her to get to the point

Wanda's words stumbled out, her voice laced with a mix of anxiety and determination. “I miss you,” she confessed, her gaze holding a raw vulnerability that pierced through the space between you.

You watched her, the ache in your chest growing with every passing second. "You betrayed me, Wanda," your voice held a hint of bitterness, a mix of hurt and anger that you couldn't fully hide.

"I know," she whispered, her gaze dropping to the ground. "I can't change what I did, and I can't take back the pain I caused you."

Your fists clenched involuntarily, the turmoil inside you threatening to overflow. "Do you even understand what you've done? The trust you shattered?"

Wanda's shoulders sagged as if each word you spoke weighed her down further. "I do, y/n. And I'm so, so sorry."

The two of you stood there on the empty sidewalk, the world around you seemed to blur, Wanda's eyes remained locked on you, her gaze a mixture of regret, longing, and a silent plea.It was a scene heavy with emotions, a moment frozen in time.

"I can't just forget what happened," you finally said, your voice cracking as you struggled to maintain your composure.

Wanda nodded, her eyes never leaving yours. "I don't expect you to. I just... I wanted you to know how sorry I am."

The ache in your heart was overwhelming, a mixture of love and pain that you couldn't untangle. You turned away, your steps carrying you toward your car.

"I need time, Wanda," you said over your shoulder, your voice laced with a sadness that mirrored the rainy night.

"I understand," her response was a whisper, barely audible against your retreating form. "I'll wait.”

You sat up in your chair, the memories of that night jolting you from your trance. A suffocating wave of despair started to build within you. Before you could let it fully consume you, you spun around in your chair until you were facing your desk. Clicking your mouse to wake up your screen in order to resume the previously abandoned pile of work.

You missed Wanda more than you could let yourself admit. You wanted to hate her, and after what she did you should hate her. And you tried, you really did. You locked yourself away from her, you buried yourself in work in hopes to erase any happy memories you once had with her, so you could replace them with the cruel and heartless version of her you knew now.

But the truth was different. You couldn't erase the way her eyes lit up when they met yours, or the way she made you feel—loved and safe, in a way no one else ever had.

You think you would always remember her this way, a constant reminder, etched deep into your heart.

—-----——-

You returned to your penthouse drenched, the rain having caught you off guard without an umbrella. The water had rendered your hair a shade darker, and you left a trail of wet footprints on the hardwood floors as you made your way towards the bathroom.

You shed your wet clothes and stepped under the stream of hot water in your shower, feeling immediate relief as the tension in your muscles began to dissipate. The air was filled with the refreshing scents of lavender and sandalwood as you lathered up and cleaned yourself.

After finishing your shower, you stood still for a moment, the steam swirling around you like a comforting embrace. The warmth and solitude created a cocoon of serenity, shutting out the world beyond the bathroom walls.

When your fingers began to wrinkle from the water, you reluctantly stepped out of the shower, reaching for a fluffy towel to wrap around yourself.

You were in the midst of lathering lotion in your hands when a loud knock stopped your movements. You looked down at yourself, seeing you were naked and only covered in a white towel. You debated on changing but decided not to assuming it was your neighbor coming to get the spare key she left you, having locked herself out multiple times.

The ends of your damp hair left small droplets on the floor as you padded to the door, twirling a pair of keys. absentmindedly in your hand. When you peered through the peephole, your breath caught in your throat. You practically ripped the door open upon seeing her. Wanda stood before you, her appearance slightly disheveled, her hair displaying a touch of frizz despite still looking perfect. The collar of her shirt was creased, and her makeup seemed to be fading – signs that she might have come directly from work.

“Y/n I can't do this anymore.” Wanda spoke before you could even fully comprehend why she was here. The sight of her there, standing at your doorstep, caught you off guard, and you struggled to process her sudden appearance.

“What? Wanda, what are you doing here,?” Your voice trembled with a blend of confusion, your grip on your towel invonultarily tightened when you felt her push past you until she was standing in your living room.

Wanda's impatience seemed palpable as she brushed past you, her steps echoing in the living room. “I know I really fucked up, but I cant keep doing this,” her voices wavering as she began to lightly pace across your dark floors.

“I dont understand, you cant do what anymore” you shot back, your own voice carrying a mix of exasperation and pain.

“Be away from you!” she declared, finally turning to face you fully. The frustration in her eyes was clear, mixed with a weariness that seemed to emanate from deep within. “I know you wanted space, and I get that, I do, but are you just never going to talk to me again?”

The intensity in her gaze held you captive for a moment, and you felt your heart tug in response. But you couldn't let yourself fully give in. “Wanda, I don't know what you want me to say to you. You lied and went behind my back for months,” you responded, the weight of your words underscored by the lingering hurt.

“And I am so sorry for what I did, you know I am,” she pleaded, her desperation evident. Her words stumbled out as she struggled to find the right ones. “Just… Just tell me what I have to do to make this right.”

Her next words hit you like a wave, unexpected and powerful. “I'll give up everything if that's what it takes. The company, the money, all of it.” You looked at her as if she had lost her mind, but the determination in her eyes was unwavering.

“Are you insane? you cant just show up here in the middle of the night-”

“I love you, y/n, and I know you still love me,” her voice cracked with vulnerability. “And I will spend the rest of my life apologizing to you, but this can't be the end for us.”

A sharp retort formed on your lips, fueled by your anger and the pain she had caused you. “Well, you're wrong, Wanda. I don't love you anymore,” you stated, your words a defense mechanism to shield yourself from the turmoil inside

A fleeting expression of hurt crossed Wanda's face, her eyebrows knitting together in a frown. “I don't believe you,” she responded with a firmness that matched your own, her unwavering gaze locked onto yours as if she could see right through your facade.

“Well you are going to have to believe it” you harshly responded, With a frustrated sigh, you turned abruptly on your feet and began walking toward the hallway that led to your master bedroom. The echo of Wanda's footsteps followed closely behind, the tension between you two was concrete.

“Where are you going?” Wanda questioned as she followed after you like a lost puppy. Her voice, still heavy with determination,

"Well, I'm not planning on lingering here half-naked in a towel,” You responded, the annoyance and sarcasm evident in your voice. “since you don't have plans on leaving any time soon”

The door to your bedroom swung open as you entered, and you didn't even need to glance back to know Wanda was right on your heels. It was almost comical how she managed to keep up, considering the weight of the conversation that hung between you.

With a huff, You made your way into your closet, turning around you shut the door right in her face, an offended expression painted her features as if she was expecting to walk right in with you.

Wanda leaned back against the gray walls of your bedroom, her gaze fixed on the closed closet door. She ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek, frustration and resignation mingling in her expression

"I can't believe you actually tried to convince me that you don't love me anymore," she scoffed, her voice dripping with a mixture of disbelief and anger, her words a response to the emotional grenade you had thrown earlier

You continued your search for clothes, the sound of fabric rustling and drawers opening serving as a background to the tension in the room. "Oh please, Wanda," you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because nothing says 'I love you' like secretly sharing confidential information with our competitors.”

Through the door, you heard a muffled sigh, signaling Wanda's exasperation as she leaned against the wall. The room felt like a battlefield, the air heavy with unspoken regrets and unreleased emotions.

"Are you seriously bringing that up again?" she pushed herself off the wall until she was once again face to face with your closet door.

She could practically hear you rolling your eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry. Was that supposed to be forgotten in the grand gesture of you showing up unannounced?"

Wanda's lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze narrowing at your words. "I came here to try and fix things, y/n. I'm not just going to disappear from your life."

“My life would actually be a lot easier if you did disappear from it.” your voice slightly strained as you reached behind yourself to hook on your bra.

“Oh shut up, you don't mean that.” Wanda rolled her eyes, her frustration is evident as she crossed her arms over her chest. “For God, sakes how long does it take a person to put on a pair of pajamas?” she slapped her hands on the side of her legs and looked up at the ceiling her patience seemingly wearing thin. There was a beat of silence, while Wanda was waiting for you to respond, assuming you were just choosing to ignore her now.

Wanda let out a breath, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she slowly made her way across the room to sit on the edge of your bed. The sound of fabric rustling filled the otherwise silent room, and while you were engrossed in changing into your night clothes, Wanda battled an intense urge. She fought against the impulse to barge through your door, to grab hold of your unclothed body, and to never let you slip away again.

The ache within her was unbearable at times. The depth of her longing for you was a constant weight, an ever-present companion she couldn't shake off. It was a desperation that kept her awake at night, leaving her tossing and turning in her own lonely bed. She had become accustomed to falling asleep to the rhythm of your breath, to the warmth of your body beside hers. Without that, her nights felt empty, restless, and devoid of the comfort she so desperately craved.

How badly she yearned to touch you, to feel the softness of your skin beneath her fingertips. How she wished she could hold you close, wrapping her arms around you and never letting go. The memories of your touches, your kisses, and your whispered words of affection haunted her every moment.

She missed you, missed everything about you. Your absence left a void in her heart, a hole that seemed to grow with each passing day. She missed the mundane routines, the simple moments that now felt like precious memories. She longed for the times when you would both come home from work, tired but content, and share stories of your day. She missed the stolen glances, the inside jokes, the way you would fit perfectly in her arms.she missed waking up to you. She missed the messy hair that would cascade across your face as you slept, the way your brows would furrow just slightly before your eyes fluttered open.

As Wanda sat there on the edge of your bed, a whirlwind of emotions surged within her. She couldn't help but wonder if you missed her as much as she missed you if you felt as tortured as she was.

And then, like a sudden lightning bolt, a horrible thought struck her. Was there someone else? someone who had taken her place. It was a painful idea that clawed at the corners of her mind, igniting a pang of jealousy that she struggled to suppress. Was that why you hadn't called? Or why you seem to be perfectly fine while she felt like she would die if she had to go another day without seeing you.

The mere thought of another person filling the void she had left behind was enough to send a wave of nausea crashing over her. She wanted to believe that you were suffering too, that the separation was as torturous for you as it was for her. But the uncertainty gnawed at her, feeding her jealousy like a hungry fire.

Wanda recognized the unfairness of her jealousy. After all, she was the one who had shattered your trust and broken your heart. Her actions were inexcusable, and she had no right to feel possessive or envious. And yet, the images of you with someone else, sharing the intimacy and love that had once been exclusively reserved for her, were like poison to her soul.

Her determination to win you back was stronger than ever. She knew she had to make amends, to prove to you that her love was genuine and that she was willing to do whatever it took to earn your forgiveness. The thought of you in someone else's arms was unbearable, driving her to fight for you with an almost desperate fervor. As she sat there, wrestling with her emotions, she knew one thing for certain: she needed you back in her life. The pain of being apart from you was too much to bear, and she was willing to confront her own mistakes head-on to rebuild the connection that had once been the center of her world.

Wanda heard the sound of your closet door opening and immediately spun around, a burning flame of determination in her chest. She was fully prepared, ready to win you back no matter what the cost was. If she had to stay here all night declaring her love for you, then so be it.

But as soon as her eyes met yours, she froze. Every single thought in her head felt like it evaporated.

There you were, in the door frame wearing a set of lingerie, a stunning shade of scarlet Her favorite color. Her favorite set. On her favorite girl. She felt herself begin to get hot as a flame of lust ignited inside her. The bra, a work of art, lifted and accentuated your chest, offering a subtle allure that both revealed and concealed. The patterns of the lace danced across your skin. The panties, a matching masterpiece, hugged your hips with a gentle grace, the lace tracing a delicate line along your waist and hips. The fabric caressed your curves with a tender touch, leaving just enough for Wanda's imagination.

You cocked your head to the side in confusion at Wanda's sudden quietness. The atmosphere seemed to shift, the air growing thick with tension. Your attire, in contrast to the serious situation.

Wanda found herself taking an involuntary step closer. She felt as if she were under a spell, her attention drawn completely to you. But abruptly, she stopped, a flicker of suspicion crossing her features. What exactly were you playing at? Were you testing her? Teasing her?

“Y/n.” she broke the silence, Not tearing her eyes off you for even a second as you waltz over to her. For the first time in a long time, Wandas mind went completely blank. All she could do was hopelessly stare.

“I figured this would make you shut up,” you retorted, a hint of playful defiance in your voice.

You took her by the belt. Looping your finger inside the leather material and pulling her forward until her lips met yours in a rough kiss. Wanda's hands immediately went to your waist, holding you agaisnt her.

Wanda felt like she was floating. She couldn't get enough of you, pressing harder into you, her hold on your hips tightening as if you were going to slip away. You sighed against her lips missing this feeling just as much as Wanda. You slipped your tongue into her mouth, moaning when you felt her gently suck on the wet muscle in return. Wanda felt herself beginning to get lost in you. The feeling of finally having your undivided attention was euphoric.

With each press of your lips against hers, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you in a suspended moment. Your hands worked quickley at the metal buckle of her belt. You sudden eagerness took her by surprise. The sound of clickling metal was echoed throughout the room as you pulled out the belt from her pants. Wanda was to lost in the feeling of your tongue in her mouth to feel you gently take her hands from you waist and lightly wrap them behind her back.

Your lips journeyed down to the curve of her neck, where your teeth grazed her skin, eliciting a throaty moan from her. “Fuck, baby,” she panted, shutting her eyes to relish the sensation.

Wanda's attempt to move her hands to run them through your hair was thwarted by her realization that she was now bound. She broke herself from the kiss, whipping her head around her shoulders to see her belt tightly wrapped around her hands into makeshift cuffs.

“Where did you learn that?” her tone a mix of concern and curiosity. she brought her face back around to yours, her breath tickling your lips.

“Internet.” You smirked, Placing your hands on her shoulders and shoving her until the back of her legs reached the bed. As she fell you admired the bewildered expression on her face. She always looked so adorable when she was confused.

Wanda attempted to stand up but before she could you swung yourself over her, your legs on either side of hers. Your hands place themselves on her shoulders. Keeping her back pressed against your soft white comforters. Wanda looked up at you with her mouth slightly agape. She flexed her arms trying to free herself from your restraints.

“Y/n. What is this? Why am I tied up” She questioned, wiggling her arms and shoulders in an attempt to free herself. You ran your hands over her body, soothing her frantic movements.

“You know, you really hurt me.” you softly spoke, faking a pout, and leaning down so the ends of your hair were on her face. Wanda's eyes softened into yours, She wanted to move her hand up to cup your face but realized she couldn't given her position. “You made me hate you again. And just when we were starting to get along” you tisked your lips, faking a disappointed expression.

“Y/n. Please. Im sorry.” Wanda spoke with desperation in her eyes, The guilt slowly eating away at her heart. You brought your finger up to her lip, hushing her gently.

“You didn't think you would be getting off scot-free, did you? Your voice suddenly dropped an octave, which made Wanda shiver. The heat and lust between the two of you rapidly growing.

Wanda's eyes widened at the realization of what was about to happen. She lifted the upper part of her body off the bed so her face was right in front of you. Her lips near touching yours.

“No, baby, please,” she murmured, her voice taking on a submissive tone that sent a jolt of electricity through the air. Softly, she kissed you, her words almost a plea against your lips. “It's been so long. I need to feel you.”

With a willpower you didn't know you possessed, you pulled away from the kiss, eliciting a frustrated whine from Wanda.

“Now how would that be fair? Huh,” you teased, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. The tension in the room was thick, the air charged with a mixture of longing and unresolved emotions.

You sat back on her legs and reached behind to unhook your bra. Wanda's gaze glazed over as your chest was revealed, and you discarded the bra, your hands tracing sensually over your skin. A soft moan escaped your lips as your fingertips caressed your hardened nipples.

Observing this, Wanda's mouth began to water, her desire growing. She leaned forward, eager to taste you, but you gripped her shoulders, preventing her from moving further

"Patience," you whispered, your voice a sultry purr. "I'm not done yet."

Wanda's chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, her anticipation evident in the way her eyes were fixed on you. She bit her lip, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh as she fought back the urge to pounce.

Your fingers continued their dance across your skin, teasingly grazing over your curves. Your hips started to grind against the flesh of her thigh. Wanda let out a groan, feeling your wetness soak through her thin pants. The low moans that escaped your lips seemed to echo in the room, a symphony of pleasure that played to Wanda's eager ears.

"Y/n," Wanda practically whimpered, her voice dripping with need. "Please, I can't wait any longer."

A knowing smile tugged at your lips as you watched her squirm beneath you. The power you held in this moment was intoxicating

You maintained your hold on her shoulders, savoring the way she practically trembled with anticipation. Your eyes bore into hers, a mixture of dominance and affection in your gaze.

"Tell me, Wanda," you cooed, your voice a velvet caress. "Tell me how much you want it."

Her breath hitched, and she swallowed hard, her eyes never leaving yours. “so bad," she confessed, her voice a soft plea. “I want it so bad”

You let your fingers trail a tantalizing path down your body, inching lower with deliberate slowness. Wanda's gaze followed your movements, her pupils dilating with desire. You slipped your fingers into your panties and began stroking yourself, coating your fingers in your wetness.

Wanda dug her nails into her palm watching your eyes flutter shut as you fucked yourself on your fingers. Her wrists burned from the tightness of the belt, rubbing together in an attempt to free herself.

You withdrew your fingers and lifted them to Wanda's awaiting mouth. She readily opened her lips, allowing your fingers to glide onto the top of her tongue. A moan escaped Wanda as the taste of you hit her senses, her eyelids fluttering shut as her tongue caressed and sucked your juices from your fingers, savoring every drop. The desire within her intensified. She wanted to taste all of you. She wanted to flip you over and hold your thighs open and bury her tongue into your wet pussy. This felt like torture, She didn't know much longer she could hold out for. To Wanda's disappointment, You pulled your fingers out of her mouth.

“Let me touch you, please,” she pleaded, her lips connecting to the base of your neck. “ill make you feel so good” You let her get a few more kisses in before you pushed her shoulders back.

“No touching. This is your last warning” you asserted firmly, bringing your fingers back to your core.

Wanda's frustration started to bubble up inside her. Watching your chest rise and fall with every heavy breath your let out, Your pillowy thighs squeezing her own as your wetness stained her pants.

Wanda subtly maneuvered her hands, sensing the belt beginning to loosen. Unbeknownst to you, a mischievous grin formed on her lips as you were becoming consumed by pleasure

“God, Wanda,” you moaned, the rhythm of your hips quickening, grinding down onto your fingers. The sensation coiling within your abdomen was becoming increasingly intense

Wanda began moving her leg up and down, matching the rhythm of your fingers. Distracting you from her movements behind her back. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt your pleasure building to an exquisite peak.

Just as you were about to unravel you were abruptly flipped over and slammed onto the mattress. Your eyes shot open to see wanda hovering above you.

Wanda's chest heaved with a mixture of frustration and desire. She was caught in a whirlwind of emotions, torn between her need to reclaim control and the overwhelming attraction that pulsed between you.

You could see the anger in her eyes, her hands aggressively squeezing yours as they pinned themselves on either side of your head. “That's enough. You've had your fun.”

She lowered herself onto your body, her breath caressing your skin with a fiery touch. Her lips trailed along your neck, chest, and stomach, each touch stoking the flames of anticipation. With a swift motion, she ripped off your panties, her lips immediately finding your wetness. She pressed her mouth against you, releasing a primal, heated moan against your sensitive flesh. She was relentless, giving you no mercy against her ministrations. She brought her lips up to your clit and began harshly sucking on the bundle of nerves. Your mind began to muddle into a haze of overwhelming pleasure.

“Fuck- oh my god, Wanda” You gasped, Throwing your head back and arching your back into the air. Your hips began to squirm and Wanda threw her arm over your waist, anchoring you down onto the mattress. She brought two fingers up to your entrance and gently pushed them in, immediately curling against your sweet spot. Her tongue continued to roll against your clit as she took a moment to glance up at you.

You looked indescribably spectacular, as you always did right before you came. Your breaths became erratic, your hand reached down to tug at Wanda's hair making her groan into your core. That was all it took to send you over the edge. Your thighs squeezed around Wanda's head, efficetevly muffling her moans as you unraveled under her. She brought her hand to your thigh rubbing circles into your skin, soothing you through your orgasm.

‘Wanda” you pant, watching her come up from your thighs, her fingers still lodged inside you. You cry out when you feel her begin to pump her fingers in and out of you.

“Fuck, please, Wanda,” you implored, your fingers digging into her shoulders as the intensity of her thrusts sent tremors through your body.

“C'mon, sweet girl, you can give me one more.” Wanda purred against your collarbones, beginning to suck hickeys down your chest. Your velvety walls pulsed around her fingers as they slid in and out of your pussy, her pussy.

“Is this pussy still mine baby?”

“God, yes!” you were clawing at Wandas back, feeling your orgasm start to build,

“and who do you belong to.” you went to respond but your mouth fell open when you felt wanda slide a third finger into your wet pussy. The stretch made your eyes squeeze shut, and your hold on Wanda tightened. your nails grazing her back as your orgasm surged forth. The sensation was electric, radiating through your entire being as Wanda continued her assault. The ferocity of her movements only heightened your pleasure, and you felt your body convulse in response.

Even after all this time she knew exactly what you liked and how to make you scream. Wandas entire focus was dedicated to pleasuring you, her fingers pumped in and out of you at a perfect angle and you felt your mind begin to grow fuzzy.

“Answer me.” Wanda's voice was firm, and filled with possessiveness, the thought of anyone else seeing you like this ignited fiery wave of jealousy inside her.

She hovered over you as you writhed beneath her. Her fingers maintained their relentless pace, and your hips bucked against her hand, seeking more.

“You, Wanda. I belong to you,” you moaned, your chest rising to meet hers. The heel of her hand pressed against your clit, sending jolts of ecstasy through you. Your senses were aflame, every nerve alive as Wanda's fingers orchestrated a symphony of pleasure within you

“There it is,” Wanda's voice held a triumphant note as she watched your face contort in pleasure. Her eyes shimmered with adoration, locked onto your expressions as you reached your climax. “Yes, that's my good girl.” Sloppy kisses found your neck, her breath hot against your skin as she reveled in your moans, the sweet sounds that fueled her own desire.

As the waves of pleasure gradually receded, you felt your body relaxing, your breathing slowing down to a steady rhythm. Wanda withdrew her fingers gently, her touch tender as she shifted to lie beside you. She wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you close against her as you both caught your breath. The afterglow of your intimacy was palpable in the air, a mix of emotions swirling between you.

Wandas voice broke the comfortable silence, soft and caring “ Are you okay, love?”

You turned your head to meet her gaze, her eyes a mirror of concern and affection. Despite everything, the depth of her feelings for you was undeniable. Your fingers traced gentle patterns on her arm, a silent reassurance.

"Yeah," you replied, your voice slightly muffled into her chest.

She gave you a kiss on your cheek before gently moving you off her so she could stand up. Your head that was being supported by wandas chest was soon replaced with the soft material of your pillows.

Your heart started to ache at the thought of Wanda leaving you, but she returned a few minutes later with a damp towel and a glass of water. She handed you the glass urgining you to drink it while she carefully cleaned the mess in between your legs.

When she was finished she awkwardly sat back on her legs, unsure of her next movements “if..if you want me to leave I can. I know your still angry, and if me staying here is too much for you I understand”

Your heart swelled at Wandas words, Even amidst the turmoil and the tangled emotions, she was still attuned to your needs and boundaries.

“I just want you to be happy Y/n.” she spoke, her breath faltering before she spoke her next words “And I understand if its not with me. I promise ill leave you alone after tonight”

“I dont want that Wanda.” you confessed, finally looking up into her eyes. "I can't deny that I still care about you," your vulnerability laid bare. "Despite everything, there's still something between us."

Wanda looked up at you relief and hope shimmered in her eyes, her fingers nervously toyed with a loose thread on the bedspread. "I've missed you so much, y/n. And I know I messed up, more than I can even express."

Tears welled up in your eyes as her words hit you, the rawness of her admission cutting through the layers of resentment. "I missed you too, Wanda. But you hurt me so bad."

"I know," she whispered, her voice laced with regret. “And im willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust back.”

Tears spilled from your eyes, a complex wave of emotions surging through you. "I still love you, Wanda. But it won't be easy."

“Im not looking for easy.” Wanda's thumb brushed away a tear from your cheek. "I love you, more than words can say."

The weight of your shared feelings hung in the air, a fragile bridge between your past and the uncertain future. But in that moment, you both knew that love was worth fighting for, even if it meant navigating the complexities of hurt and forgiveness.

As she leaned in, her lips met yours in a kiss that was a fusion of longing, remorse, and a tentative hope. It wasn't a magical fix, but it was a step towards healing, towards rebuilding what had been broken.

With a renewed sense of hope and a shared commitment to heal, you knew that this was just the beginning of a new chapter. The past wouldn't disappear, but perhaps, with time and effort, you could build a future that was stronger, more resilient, and filled with the love that had never truly faded away.

As you pulled away slightly, you met her gaze with a tender smile. “Well have to take it slow,"

Her eyes lit up, a mix of relief and excitement dancing within them. "Yeah, slow sounds good."

A hint of confusion crossed Wanda's face as she glanced around the room, contemplating her next move. "So, should I... I mean, can I stay tonight?"

You couldn't help but chuckle, the warmth of her presence reassuring you. Without hesitation, you reached out, gently pulling her shoulder down onto you as you fell back onto the bed "Oh, You're not going anywhere."

Wanda's face broke into a radiant smile,. As she settled beside you, you wrapped your arms around her, holding her close. She inhaled the smell of your hair feeling more at peace than she had in months.

In that moment, you both knew that while the road ahead might not be easy, the desire to be together was undeniable. The past was a part of your story, but it didn't have to define your future. With each heartbeat, you felt the strength of your love growing, and the promise of a second chance filling the air with hope.

Taglist: @reginassweetheart @marvelwomen-simp @lesbianpizza @ilovetlcc @kittnii @romanoffsgff @justabrokensunshine @blueredg52 @bibliophilicbi @ms-brek-ker @lizardslizzie @casquinhaa @dvrkhcld @dmenby3100 @marvels-slut @pawiie @brooklyn-r-dawson @psychickryptonitebouquet @ju-maxi89 @dracarys8287

[euphoricfilter]

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• ° kinktober day 4

[day four: somnophilia]

pairing: hoseok x f.reader

tags/ warnings: pwp, (consensual) somnophilia, consensual drugging + pre-discussed limits, panty sniffing, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, creampie

notes: smut straight under the cut

kinktober masterlist

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

You don’t question it when Hoseok hands you a warm drink before bed.

Drowsy as he takes you upstairs to bed, slipping into a state of unconsciousness the moment your head touches Hoseok’s pillow.

You’re blissfully unaware as he slips your panties down your legs, hooking them over his shoulders. He looks up at you from where he lays between your legs, hand balling into the cotton of your panties, still slightly damp with your arousal from when he’d pressed a finger inside your throbbing pussy after dinner. Teasing your body, tempting it with the pleasure he planned to force upon you while you slept. Conscious mind unaware of the bliss, greedy body ready for it.

He looks at your unconscious face, expression gentle with sleep. Painted innocence and vulnerability, so much trust in him to take care of you.

He presses your panties to his nose, chest inflating as he breathes you in, cock twitching in his pants. Arousal seeping through his body at the mere fact you had no idea what he was doing.

“Gonna defile you” he murmurs, thumb and forefinger pulling back the hood of your clit, tongue flicking over your small bundle of nerves.

Your thighs twitch at the jolt of pleasure, knocking against the sides of his head as he teases his tongue over your entrance. He licks a broad stripe over your pussy, pressed between your folds as he licks up your slick. It coats his tongue, low groan rumbling inside of his chest at the taste of you.

He wonders if you’re dreaming of him, of how his tongue presses past your walls, fingers prodding over your sweet spot before he fucks you. Or, if the pills he’d slipped into your drink had sunk you so far into sleep your body was unconsciously giving him what he wanted, cunt slicking up, needy for pleasure. Clenching, leaking, just ever so pretty within the desperation.

His fingers run through your folds, splitting you open so he can press his tongue further into you.

You wriggle above him, fingers digging into the sheets below you. What he assumes to be a moan watery on your tongue, barely there. A short little whine at the press of him over your cunt.

“So pretty” he whispers, hips rutting against the bed.

His hand slips down his body, fingers dipping past the waistband of his underwear to grab his cock. Fingers pinching at the tip, precum dribbling out his slit. He moans into your pussy, swallowing down your arousal.

He tugs his pants down, willing himself away from your swollen cunt. He sits up on his knees, hands twisting around his cock as he looks down at you.

Your shirt had ridden up over your stomach, inner thighs wet with your slick. He jerks himself off above you, falling forward until one hand is holding him up above you as he continues to tug at his cock. Raw unfiltered pleasure seeping through every pore and crevice of his body at the sight of you softly sleeping below him. His eyes train on your face, guttural groan rumbling in his chest.

He presses his cock between your folds, cockhead slicking up with your tacky arousal. He nudges the tip over your clit, blunt head pulling your pussy apart as he presses over your entrance, jittery as he pushes into you.

He watches as your stomach tenses, pressing each inch of his cock inside of you gently. Your cunt clenches around each agonizing inch of his length as he sinks into you. Mind muddled with pleasure.

He doesn’t wait, hips snapping into you, hands pushing your knees to your chest as he pulls back a little, rough as he snaps his hips forward, thrusting his cock back into you.

You make no noise, mouth dropping open in a silent moan as he rams his cock into you, wet squelch replacing your silent moans with every rough jab of his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” his head tips back, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he leans over your body.

“Gonna cum” he moans, “please”

He looks down his nose at you, your eyes squeezing a little as pleasure thrums through your unconscious mind.

He feels you sporadically clench around him, his hips slowly losing their rhythm as he slowly climbs towards his orgasm.

“Ah—” he tugs you fully onto his cock, “So good” he groans, cock twitching between your walls before he paints your insides with his cum. Warm as it floods you, his hips stuttering as he ruts his cock into you, smearing your walls with his release. Holding you there as he spurts another wave of seed into you, wet kiss pressed to your cheek as he slowly comes down from his pleasure filled high.

“So good” his hips stutter, arms wrapping around you. Cock warm and his body sated.

[sunnie-angel]

Part 10: The Choice

part 9 | series masterlist | ao3 link

jason todd x f!reader

summary: jason settles into your new fwb relationship with ease, but stirring unrest in gotham prompts him to a course of action he'd never consider otherwise

tags: implied sexual content, off screen violence, discussion of murder victims

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 1.6k

a/n: this is a bit shorter than my usual updates for this fic but i'm trying to be nice to myself about it (got kinktober running and been working on two new series but i still wanted to update this fic)

Jason Todd has always known that he’s a selfish man. Now he knows that he’s a coward too. It was selfish of him to crumble in your arms, to take what you were offering with greedy, clutching hands. Falling into your bed again is easy, so easy. You’d offered him the most thinly veiled opportunity and the promise not to talk about it and all of his grand resolve had folded. The careful distance he had kept between you for those long, torturous weeks melting away at the offer for more, more than just the cold friendship he’d been willing to settle for. You, with your sweet cheeks and winter bright eyes, were a weakness he’d never learned to guard against.

He wakes up in your bed beside you and thinks that this is the closest to something holy he’s ever seen. Your soft huffing breaths as you sleep, brows soft and lashes fluttering. The weight of your body pressed along his, your heat searing through his skin. Your lips part just slightly as you exhale. There’s something innocent about you as you sleep, no worries to have your body humming with energy, no performance for an audience. Just you. Soft and sleep soaked, trusting him with your soft belly and unguarded throat, allowing him into your bed again after the colossal fuck up of the first time. Propping his head on his hand, he looks down at your relaxed features and promises to do better.

Jason will respect your rules, even if he can’t follow his own. Touching you? He crossed that line so long ago it’s laughable to think about when he’s just had you split open around him. Staying at the threshold of your home? Hell he’d practically invited himself inside. He doesn’t know how but you’ve started to see the truth of him, filled in the gaps of silence with the words he couldn’t say but felt, brushed against all his raw edges and still not flinched. Jason doesn’t know how you’ve managed it, but he lives in the fear of when the person you see stops being the friend you rely on. So his last rule, his last rule he will keep. Can keep the love he feels trapped in his throat burning like acid so long as you will keep looking at him like you did last night. Won’t break your rules and do anything so terrible as to utter the words out loud. Jason has kept so many secrets, what’s one more?

You mumble something in your sleep, turn and reach for him with a blind hand. This time, Jason is there. He is there for you to snuggle closer to, soft murmurs melting into peaceful relief at the solidness of him. Jason is there. He is there and he cannot understand how he ever had the cruelty to leave before. To give this up. Jason Todd knows that he is a coward. He knew he was a coward since the first time he left, and every moment after where he did not afford you the honesty of his yearning gaze. When he swallowed down your promises that nothing had to change, nothing had to be spoken aloud, too eager for the sweetness that you offered, he knew he was a coward. Down to his bones he knows that he has always been a coward when it comes to you. That he will continue to be a coward as long as it ends with him here, your vulnerable form seeking protection from the scarred shell of his body.

It is shockingly easy to go back to existing in your orbit now that he is allowed to have this much more of you. Gazes no longer fraught with tension, a loose limbed ease to invading your space. There is a comfort for him in knowing how to handle your body, to know what is allowed under the terms of your agreement. He can throw an arm around your shoulder and no longer do you freeze, instead sinking into him. Can linger as he hands over your lunch, your coffee, your little treat and not have to pretend he doesn’t feel the burn of your skin. Figures out how to trace the nape of your neck with his eyes alone until you are shivering under the weight of his attention. Satisfaction thrums through his veins at being able to pull such reactions from you, a gift he has been granted by the benevolent god that lets him haunt her bed.

He walks you home most days, even when he isn’t meant to be on campus. Offers no excuses, not that he thinks he needs any, simply shows up outside your lecture hall of internship office at the right time and slings your bag over his shoulder. You smile wryly up at him, smack him on the shoulder and let him know how perfectly capable you are of carrying your own things. He just smiles back until you run out of steam, rummaging through your pockets until you’ve found his reward for the day. Apples pressed into the palm of his hand, trail mix dotted with dark chocolate, dried fruit strips you mumble embarrassedly about making at home. Feeding you, watching your eyes light up over a new dish, it’s a feeling Jason doesn’t think will ever get old. Letting you feed him, in your own way, nearly rivals that gooey self-satisfied feeling. Understands intimately the desire to trade equally, to repay a kindness with kindness in turn. Can accepts these gifts from you without guilt now that the air between you is no longer bitter with self-flagellation.

It’s not every day that he follows you into your apartment and into your arms but enough that the two of you have made a routine of it. Has a hook behind the front door just for his jacket and a box of condoms in his size on your bedstand. But you don’t mention it and he doesn’t bring it up. No, Jason fills the silence with the little noises he can draw from your slack-jawed mouth. Learns to love the sound of his name dripping from your mouth. Still writhes with guilt at how badly he’d hurt you with it, the way you’d cried when it had slipped out. He gives it to you as a gift, the nickname, only to be whispered between the sheets with your eyes drawn wide. Every chant of Jay, Jay, please Jay lances the wound of it, drains the festering rot of memories as you replace them one by one.

Selfishly he hoards every smile, every expression twisted up with pleasure. It’s what you were made for, your whole body lighting up joy. For Jason it’s a contact high, like if he could hold you close enough, make you happy enough, maybe he could approach something like happiness too. That’s why when your face falls, when your lips tremble and your hands shake when another dead girl is found, he makes the decision that he does. There should never be such raw fear on someone as precious as you. It’s unacceptable.

Jason goes digging. Rips through the networks of informants he’s worked so hard to build, sent out henchmen with feelers, rampages through the city himself. Scours every corner, calls in every favour owed by whichever Rogues he’s got his hooks into. No one knows anything. No one’s saying anything. Two girls, both the spitting image of you murdered, and no one knows a fucking thing about it. None of the Rogues will claim it as their own doing and the ones with the taste for fear and flesh are all still locked up in Arkham. It’s not until one of the street kids he’s tried so damn hard to protect tells a story about a working girl killed four weeks ago in exchange for a place to stay that Jason finds out anything nearing useful.

It’s not hard to hack into the GCPD database. What’s hard is to find one Jane Doe in a stack of unsolved Jane Doe cases. Makes his heart hurt and his conscience prick at so many young women whose absences have gone unremarked by the world. Jason refuses to let you become one of them. When he finds the case he’s looking for, the coffee mug shatters in his hand. A working girl, dead four weeks just like he’d been told. She looks more like you than any of the others. Even dead on a slab, the resemblance has his teeth grinding. This thing, whatever it is, isn’t the result of increased muggings in the area. No, this is some sicko with a fetish and judging at the way his brutality has increased with each murdered girl, he’s building up to something.

There’s nothing on any of the bodies that tells him what it is though. No faint clue left for him to decipher, just the remnants of cruelty that make him feel sick to think on. He tells you not to worry, that he’s handling it, but he can tell you don’t quite believe him. You lean into him more often for comfort, lines carving themselves into the delicate hollows of your under eyes. Your lips are always chapped these days from biting at them, nailbeds raw from picking at them. And Jason, Jason hates to see you like this. Fearful. Afraid. A ghost of your vibrant self, so twisted up with the not knowing, the nebulous fear of being next. It’s unacceptable.

So he does something that he swore he’d never do, not after the last disastrous outcome. Jason picks up the phone and calls his family.

link to part 11

[keehomania]

taeyong is a sub and i will die on this hill ngl!!

LEE TAEYONG led a double life, one that he was well aware of, one that he was absolutely proud of. on stage, he was a beast. he made sure to emphasize his charisma, the energy he radiated as he danced and rapped. he made sure to perform, to put on a show. he held himself together, his composure strung by threaded lies that made those who watched him perform believe that he was a force not to be reckoned with. it was exactly what he was good at, it was his job to put on a show.

when the lights were dimmed and the cameras turned off, that was when he let his true colors show. it was a gradual process, baby steps that eased those around him into the light of his personality. when he wasn’t performing, he was giddy. smiling with his members like a little kid, or entertaining his fans during his lives. it was a way for everybody to dip their toes into the water, to get a glimpse of what taeyong was really like. however, despite those glimpses, nobody would get to see him at his realest. nobody but you.

he was able to perform in front of everybody, just not in front of you. no, it was different with you. he was raw, vulnerable. instead of towering, he crumbled, he was completely and utterly at your full disposal. you could do whatever you wanted to him and he would take it. in fact, he would beg for more, that was how much he trusted you. he knew you could look into his soul and recognize his most twisted, sick thoughts, and still love him the same. it was exactly what you were good at.

“please,” he whimpered, his voice shaking with every breath he took. “hurts so good.” he was a mess, he always was, yet he managed to look perfect. in your eyes, he was always perfect. his pale, porcelain skin was glazed with sweat and spit, his lips red and swollen from being kissed by you and chewed raw by him, his eyes were glazed with the same tears that stained his cheeks, and his fingers wrapped around the stained bedsheets beneath his naked, bruised body. yes, he was absolutely perfect.

you cooed at the sight of him as you worked your fist, jacking him off at a ridiculously fast pace as more tears slid down his cheeks. “you want me to stop, tae?” your tone was condescending, low and mean, but he couldn't control the way it made his cock twitch in your hand. he knew it, and you did too. “want me to stop when you’re so close?”

there were no lies told, he was close, on the brink of cumming. again, for the fourth time in a row. he wasn’t sure how much more he could take, but he wanted to take as much as possible for you. he was willing to stain the sheets a fourth time and let his mind shut off for a few seconds if it meant you’d be pleased with him. “no,” he whimpered, his trembling hands wiping away the stray tears before latching onto your wrists. “i can take it.” it was a lie, if the way his thighs quivered were any indication, but you knew you could coax one more out of him.

“that’s a good boy, so good for me, yeah?” you cooed before spitting some more on the tip of his dick, smearing it all over and mixing it with the precum that had oozed out a while ago. if the way you praised him wasn’t enough to send him towards the edge, the way you spat on him definitely was. he chewed at his lip to bite back a moan as he bucked his hips into your fist, desperately chasing the high he was so afraid of. “so needy, thought you couldn't take it anymore.”

he shook his head as he clutched the bedsheets, knuckles whitening as he held onto the still slippery sheets. “i can take it,” he repeated softly. the sheets were slick with his cum, alongside your juices that had come together. you reached over with your free hand and ran it alongside his chest, the feather-like touch sending shivers down his spine. you smiled at the feedback, running your fingers alongside his nipples just to hear his sweet little gasps before pinching them ever so softly.

his mouth hung open at the sensation, spit trickling down his chin as he continued to buck his hips, so close to cumming. you noticed the way his fingers probed at the wet sheets, a smile gracing your face at the sight. “got your fingers dirty from the mess we made, yeah?” he nodded weakly as he traced the sticky mess. “clean your fingers, baby. can you do that?” it was over for him, absolutely over. he nodded once more as he brought his fingers to his lips, sticky with your arousal and his seed. it wasn’t gross to him, it never was. he was quick to comply, wrapping his bruised lips around them and taking them whole as he sucked the sweetness off.

the sight only encouraged you to show less mercy, your eyes darkening as you fisted his cock harder, your thumb coming up to probe the tip of his hard, red dick. your other hand remained steady on his chest, toying with his nipples as you leaned forward to make a bigger mess of him. his eyes widened as you attached your lips to his balls, gently suckling and probing at the sturdy flesh. he had opened his mouth to say something, but a silent scream fell from his lips. he saw white as he came, his entire body quivering under your touch. you didn't stop, not even as he shot ropes of sticky white for the fourth time, coating his stomach and the sheets with his seed once more.

tears streamed down his cheeks once again, sobs wracking his body from the overwhelming pleasure. you met his teary gaze as you finally brought yourself up, planting kisses all over his face. “don’t cry, baby, you did so good,” you assured him as you brushed away the sweaty strands of hair plastered to his forehead. he sniffled as you wiped his tears away, his face softening only for a second. he let himself calm down, savoring the moment while it lasted, until you spoke once more. “you can give me one more, can’t you?” of course he could, he always could.

[xi4ohuhu]

It’s Xiao’s first time, teach him, will you?

It’s Xiao’s turn this time!! Smut ofc (nervous, virgin Xiao, praise kink, begging, desperate, Xiao sheds a bit of tears bc of how good it feels lol, a bit of a switch!xiao, but mainly sub!xiao, dom!female!reader, riding position, nipple play, biting and sucking)

You are Xiao’s lover, getting him to open up to you after knowing him better. You’ve been dating him for a few years now and although Xiao is usually busy with his duties in protecting Liyue, he still tries to make time for you. However, for this particular night, you wanted a change. A change in more intimacy… But Xiao, having spent most of his life battling for centuries, has no idea about intimacy. So teach him, will you?

You’re currently lying on the bed completely naked, Xiao’s cheeks flushing up at the sight of your gorgeous body. It’s not like he hadn’t seen you naked before, it was just that he wasn’t used to it. Xiao didn’t know what to do, placing his hands on your hips and rubbing the soft flesh gently.

“Uh, my dear, is this okay? Do you want me to stop? Do you feel cold? You’re completely unclothed after all… If you’re feeling uncomfortable or want to stop, please do not hesitate to tell me immediately.” Xiao said as he bombarded you with questions, his voice laced with concern and anxiety. It was clear that he was very nervous, having intimacy was new to him and this was his first time, but for you, he was willing to try.

Xiao continued to hold onto your hips, but his grip was very gentle. Too gentle even, as if you were some fragile glass that would break if he didn’t handle you properly. Xiao was afraid of hurting you, especially knowing that he had his own karmic debt, so he didn’t know if he was capable of feeling and indulging in intimacy. Hah… It would be a miracle once he degraded you.

“Xiao, really, I’m completely fine… This is the third time I’m repeating myself, I’m not fragile. I can handle myself, it’s okay. Do you want me to take over? This is just apart of intimacy after all, it’s raw and unadulterated.” You reassured him and couldn’t help but let out a small giggle. You were willing to teach him about intimacy, but you had never seen him so nervous before, so you couldn’t resist poking fun at him a little. “I didn’t think you’d be so nervous about this, aren’t you supposed to be strong? But you can start by stripping too, you know.”

You giggled softly, but your lips curved into a genuine smile, you knew how concerned Xiao could be about you. Having lost friends in his past, you were the last person he wanted to lose as well. He didn’t know what he’d do with himself if he hurt you, even if accidentally. Yet, you also wanted Xiao to take a leap of faith, to trust you. You were determined to make his first time special and leave him breathless by the end of the night. Though, it’d be a miracle if Xiao managed to degrade you, he was too sweet and gentle inside for that.

Xiao's brows furrowed slightly at your teasing, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. He wasn't used to being the one in such vulnerable positions, both physically and emotionally. But he trusted you, and he knew that you wouldn't lead him astray. "I... I suppose you're right," Xiao mumbled, his voice tinged with a mix of embarrassment and determination. He took a deep breath, gathering his resolve, and slowly began to remove his clothes. His movements were deliberate, careful, as if he was afraid of tearing the fabric. But soon enough, he stood before you, completely naked.

Xiao’s body, toned and lean from centuries of training, revealed itself to you. His pale skin was marred with scars, remnants of countless battles fought. The intricate golden tattoos on his arms and chest seemed to shimmer under the soft glow of the moonlight that filtered through the window. Xiao's eyes never left your face as he approached you, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and uncertainty. He tentatively reached out, his hands trembling slightly, and cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

"My dear, I... I trust you," he whispered, his voice husky with longing. "Teach me... show me what it means to be intimate with you." With those words, Xiao leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a gentle, hesitant kiss. His touch was feather-light, as if he was afraid of overwhelming you. But as your lips moved together, a spark ignited within him, and his kisses grew bolder, more passionate.

Xiao's kisses descended from your lips to your neck, his teeth grazing lightly against your sensitive skin. He inhaled your scent, a heady mix of desire and anticipation, and it fueled the fire burning within him. His hands moved to cup your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples, eliciting soft moans from your lips. His voice, usually so controlled and composed, was now laced with a raw hunger as he whispered in your ear, "You're so beautiful, love. I want you to dominate me, to show me the control and power you have over me. Can you do that, dear? Please?” Xiao's words hung in the air, his eyes that were filled with desperation and need locked onto yours, waiting for your response. He was ready to explore the depths of intimacy with you, to lose himself in the sensations that awaited the both of you. And of course, seeing your boyfriend beg so sweetly like that, who were you to decline?

You smiled and nodded, guiding Xiao to lay on the bed first. As he complied, you crawled on top of him and positioned yourself onto his lap, your eyes filled with hunger and desire. You captured his lips into a passionate kiss first, your hands roaming over Xiao’s bare body. Your touch was featherlight, your fingers tracing Xiao’s permanent, old scars and the tattoos that adorned his arm and shoulder. In your eyes, Xiao would always be perfect, scars or tattoos or not. You broke the kiss, your lips trailing down to Xiao’s neck. You left kisses and nips, marking him. Your breasts pressed against his chest, Xiao could feel the softness of them and your hardened nipples. His erection, hard and the tip leaking with pre-cum, brushed against your wet folds. You teased him, not completely taking him all the way, but making him beg for it first. You could feel Xiao’s hands on your hips, the way his breath hitched, the room filling with his sounds of pleasure, along with your connection.

Xiao's breath hitched as your lips left a trail of kisses and nips along his neck, marking him as your own. He could feel your breasts pressing against his chest, the softness and warmth of them sending shivers down his spine. His hands tightened on your hips, his grip possessive yet gentle, as he eagerly sought more of her touch. His erection throbbed against your wet folds, the sensation driving him to the brink of madness. He groaned, a mixture of pleasure and frustration escaping his lips, as you teased him, not fully taking him in. Each movement, each brush of your bodies, intensified the desire pooling within him, igniting a fire that threatened to consume the both of you.

"Love, please," he pleaded, his voice husky with need. "I need you... I need to feel you around me, to be inside you. Don't make me wait any longer." With a sense of urgency, Xiao's hands moved from your hips to your thighs, guiding you down onto him. He groaned as he felt the tightness of your entrance, the way you stretched around him, accommodating his size. Slowly, you sank down, taking him deeper with each inch, until he was fully sheathed within your tight pussy. A wave of pleasure washed over Xiao, his head falling back as he lost himself in the sensations. He could feel the heat of your core, the way your walls pulsed around him, gripping him in a delicious embrace. He couldn't help but moan, the sounds of pleasure filling the room.

With a rhythm that matched the beating of your hearts, Xiao's hips began to move, thrusting upwards to meet your downward movements. The friction between the two of you was electrifying, every thrust pushing you two closer to the edge of ecstasy. His hands roamed over your body, his touch growing more possessive, as he sought to claim every inch of you. Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, a dance of passion and desire. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans, Xiao’s whimpers and the intoxicating scent of arousal. Time seemed to lose all meaning as the two of you lost yourselves in the pleasure, bodies and souls intertwining in a moment of pure bliss.

“Oh, faster, please. Ride me harder, my dear. Mark me as yours.” Xiao pleaded desperately, his voice cracking between his moans. And who were you to deny him? Slamming down on him, you did a particularly powerful thrust that sent his tip kissing your cervix, causing Xiao to gasp and cry out your name. His grip on your hips was so tight it was sure to leave a few marks and bruises here and there, but he was too lost in the pleasure to care. Sniffing, a few drops of tears started to stream down Xiao’s cheeks, a reminder of the overwhelming pleasure he was feeling right now. All those thousands of years of training, he’s never felt this much pleasure before. He always thought he’d just become nothing but a weapon for combat and that trainings were necessary, yet there has always been an empty, lonely void in his heart. And you managed to fill it.

“Shh, oh, you pretty boy. Don’t cry…” You coo, almost tauntingly, before kissing away Xiao’s tears. Breathing heavily, Xiao decided to turn the tables a little and fight for dominance. Pulling you impossibly closer, his mouth latched onto one of your hardened nipples, one of his hands moving to fondle your other breast, rolling the hardened nipple between his thumb. You moan desperately, arching your back and throwing your head back to expose your neck. Xiao releases your nipple with a pop, taking this chance to suck and bite on your neck, leaving marks that will surely last for days, but also remind you that you’re his. His hands moved from your hips to your ass, squeezing your cheeks gently. He liked the way they jiggled under his touch and against his pelvis.

“Do you like that, my dear? Oh, love, I can’t hold back anymore. I-I’m gonna cum, ah… Cumming-!” Xiao gasped and gets cut off by his orgasm, hot strings of his cum splurting deep into your womb. You moan out his name loudly, your orgasm crashing into you too as your coat Xiao’s cock with your cum. After a few heavy breaths, you collapse onto Xiao’s chest, having him hold you tightly. Stroking your head gently, he kisses your forehead. Xiao doesn’t know much about aftercare, but he’ll do his best. He continues to thrust gently, making sure to prolong your orgasm as long as possible before gently pulling out, his cock spent with your juices as his cum leaked out from your pussy.

“That was… amazing. Thank you, love, for showing me what true pleasure really feels like. I-I love you, so much.” Xiao remarked, his voice laced with affection and relief. “I love you too…” You replied back in a murmur before drifting off into a peaceful sleep on him. “I’ll clean you up tomorrow, promise.” Xiao muttered softly to your sleeping form before cuddling you, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep with you too.

————-THE END————

Jacq’s note: I’m back with a Xiao fanfic this time ;)) I don’t really have much to say lol except thank u sm for the support on my previous scara one on the Ferris wheel and thanks for reading till the end, until then <3

[animebw]

I've seen Kimi ni Todoke get pigeonholed a lot as a sweet, fluffy series that's nothing but good vibes. And to be sure, this show is sugary sweet to a truly dangerous level. Every second I spend with Sawako and Kazehaya feels like I'm putting myself at risk of some yet undiscovered Type 3 Diabetes. But reducing Kimi ni Todoke to its fluffiness leaves out just how wrenching it can be. It may not be as raw an emotional wound as Fruits Basket's exploration of abuse, but there is a deep, aching agony at the heart of this show just as palpable as its sweeter moments. And it comes from understanding one very basic fact: the greatest sources of happiness in our lives are able to cause us even greater pain.

Throughout this story, Sawako's most painful moments don't come as a result of bullies or tragic strokes of fate. They come because she cares about someone so deeply that the thought of losing them- or worse, hurting them with her mistakes- becomes impossible to bear. Not just with Kazehaya, but with Chizu and Ayane in the first arc when their budding friendship is almost shattered and they realize how much they've come to love each other that the thought of losing each other hurts this much. Same for Kurumi's feelings for Kazehaya, or Chizu's feelings for Ryu's brother, and all the other crushes that go unspoken for so long. To love someone in Kimi ni Todoke means to leave yourself vulnerable, to accept the possibility that things will go wrong and this thing that's so special to you will shatter like glass in your hands. To love is to open yourself to agony; to agonize is proof that it's love at all. It's a pain the characters risk again and again, because the connections they've forged are too precious to give up on.

And nowhere is that idea more strongly expressed than Ryu and Chizu's backstory. Seeing how deeply entwined their lives have been, how tragedy and suffering have shaped them, how they've both actively chosen again and again to be there for each other through thick and thin... god, I don't think this show's ever made me cry this hard before. Just the image of Chizu making rice balls for Ryu over and over again to try and replace the hole his mother's death left was enough to make me lose my shit. Never mind seeing Ryu actually cry for the first time. Time and again, the only option they have is hurt with each other, to sink into suffering together and carry each other to the other side. But they make that choice regardless, because they will be fucked if they leave the other to drown alone. Their bond is more than a childhood friendship, or even a burgeoning romantic relationship. It's a connection as essential a part of their lives as eating and breathing, a fundamental truth of their shared existence that they willed into being.

And it's no wonder that Chizu is terrified of losing that after Ryu confesses. How dare he stab a spike through everything they've been through? How dare he shatter their status quo and leave them unable to return to that part of their lives? But once again, all that is just Ryu choosing, once again, to face the pain that comes with loving someone head first, accepting the risk that things will never be the same... in hopes that something entirety new can still be born from its ashes. It's him putting his faith in what he and Chizu have together, trusting that no matter what, they are too important to each other to let go even in waters this stormy. It is, quite frankly, as powerful and honorable an expression of love as I've seen in a very long time.

This show is really fucking good, you guys.

[doumadono]

EMERGENCY REQUEST

Hello! So, I think I just got sexually harassed and my anxiety is off the roof because of it, so I could really use some comfort. Would you be willing to write about Shinobu and a gender neutral reader where the reader has really bad anxiety? If you don't want to/can't, I totally get it! And if you do, thank you so much!

Breathe with me - Shinobu x gn!Reader

EMERGENCY REQS - PART 2

"You're trembling," Shinobu's voice was soft, laced with concern as she stood by your side. Her violet eyes held a gentle warmth, a stark contrast to her usually sharp, teasing demeanor. "Can you take a deep breath for me?"

You hadn’t realized how badly your hands were shaking, curled into fists in your lap as if clinging to something invisible, something that could tether you to reality. The anxiety had built up so fast, like a wave crashing over you, and now, the air felt too thick to breathe. "I... I don’t know if I can talk about it," you managed, your voice barely a whisper. It felt stuck in your throat, raw and aching. "It’s just too much. I feel like I’m falling apart."

Shinobu knelt down in front of you, the soft rustle of her haori the only sound cutting through the silence. Her expression, though calm, was filled with something you rarely saw in her: pure compassion.

“I…” Your voice faltered, words slipping away before you could grasp them, replaced by the sinking weight of fear. You could feel the panic building, the tightness in your chest making it hard to breathe.

"Shh, it's alright. You're safe," she said, her hand resting lightly on your arm, her touch feather-soft but grounding. "I know it feels unbearable right now, but I’m here with you. No one will hurt you while I’m by your side."

Her words, steady and certain, began to cut through the whirlwind in your mind. You focused on the way she spoke to you — not with pity, but with unwavering confidence, as though she fully believed in the strength you couldn’t see in yourself at this moment.

"You don't have to talk about it until you're ready," Shinobu continued, her tone patient. "But let me help you breathe through it, alright? In for four seconds, out for six… just like I taught you."

Her fingers traced small, soothing circles on your skin, a grounding point in the chaos of your thoughts. You nodded faintly, even though it felt like the world was still spinning too fast. Still, you trusted her. Closing your eyes, you focused on the rhythm of your breath, mirroring the slow, measured inhalations and exhalations she guided you through.

"In," Shinobu murmured gently. "And out."

With each breath, the crushing weight in your chest began to ease, if only a little. The way she stayed so close, without pushing or rushing you, made you feel safer than you'd thought possible. The knot of anxiety loosened, and though the fear hadn't completely dissipated, it no longer threatened to choke you.

"Good," she said, her voice filled with quiet encouragement. "You're doing so well. I’m proud of you, Y/N."

You opened your eyes to find her watching you with a soft smile, her eyes radiating warmth. There was no trace of mockery, none of her usual teasing nature. Just kindness.

“Shinobu,” you whispered, your voice finally able to form words, though they came out hesitant and raw. “It was awful.”

The woman's expression darkened slightly, though she kept her composure. "You don’t have to explain it now, but know that what you’re feeling is valid. I’m not going anywhere, no matter how long it takes for you to feel like yourself again. If you need me, I’ll stay."

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes as the vulnerability of the moment hit you.

Shinobu pulled you into a gentle embrace, her arms wrapping around you with surprising tenderness. "We don’t have to talk about anything. We can just be."

You smiled weakly, the words escaping you, but she understood.

And as she sat beside you, her presence steady and reassuring, the weight of your anxiety seemed to lift, just a little. It wasn’t gone, but with the Insect Hashira by your side, it felt like something you didn’t have to carry alone anymore.

[elswing]

in defense of elrond

it is ironic that elrond keeps accusing galadriel of being too blinded by pride while he's fallen equally victim to being blinded by his own frustrations. neither of them are being particularly rational about the situation because they're both hurt and feeling betrayed, and i think elrond's remark about how galadriel only sacrificed herself to save the ring instead of the company perfectly encapsulates that—because, yeah, that is a fair interpretation of it, but she did just tell him five seconds ago that she was only there to protect them, a fact that exists simultaneously with her possessiveness over nenya.

it isn't One Or The Other, just like both of their opinions on the rings, because in actuality they are both right about them. elrond has a limited perspective on it, but from his pov he is completely justified in hating the three feanorian crafted shiny magic jewels that everyone around them covets (🤨). all he knows is that sauron had a hand in making them and no one can possibly know how much influence he has over them because the true art of his craft is subtle. as in, you don't know it's happening to you until you're suddenly slapped with the consequences of it. it is equally fair of him to be suspicious of galadriel herself, because it is impossible to rely on whether she now believes herself to be free of his corruption when she never knew it was there to begin with. also, again, for emphasis—she knew sauron walked among them, she knew he'd helped make the rings, and she let it happen anyway. that doesn't exactly inspire trust, especially when it's the exact antithesis of the point she's trying to prove to elrond and she hasn't done anything to try and rectify that breach of friendship except offer an apology that does sound quite empty given she is still championing the rings.

on the other hand, galadriel is the one who spent time with sauron all this time. galadriel is the one who befriended him, and while even we as the viewers can't be sure which parts of halbrand were an act and which were genuine moments of connection, the main point is still clear: whether she wants it or not, they understand each other. even without their friendship, you can't spend thousands of years dedicating your life to hunting someone down without them becoming familiar to you in some way, and i think there is a specific manner of vulnerability that loss and grief gave her and it just tore her wide open for all sorts of habits and traits to take root. she became so devoted to her vengeance against sauron that the lines between identity and purpose began to blur.

i am not of the opinion that galadriel loves sauron (or vice versa, but that's a whole other post), as fascinating as their dynamic is to me. i do think that she is a passionate individual who was made for love and boldness, and losing everything she did was never going to mellow her out or slow her down. in her, vulnerability takes the form of rage, and it is there, in that twisted, not-quite-galadriel version of herself, that sauron was able to find a reflection.

there is no way elrond can possibly understand any of that, even despite suffering similar losses, because that's just not who he is. galadriel has the better intuition on sauron's manipulations, and she has a far better understanding of the depth of them, so of course her opinion should count here.

the issue is that they're both too raw and hurt that neither of them are willing to say "okay, so we BOTH have good points here. let's hear each other out instead of waiting for one of us to see reason and blindly agree with everything the other is saying"

i think it should also be noted that galadriel does end up being right about the rings' capabilities as a force for good, especially since the One to control them hasn't been forged yet. as unlikely as it might seem to elrond, her intuition isn't leading her astray here. we just haven't reached that point in the story yet (nor have we reached the point where galadriel begins to humble herself to the elves and seeks to redeem herself like morfydd mentioned, but i have a feeling they're getting into that now. after all, she did give nenya up to the guy who hurtled face-first off a cliff hoping to destroy them, so that's gotta count for something. baby steps!)

[wholoveseggs]

Oh my gosh! do you know those NSFW alphabet trends people would do for characters on tumblr? could you do one for elijah, please? thank you!

Elijah's Love Letters {NSFW Alphabet}

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

~Thanks for the request anon ♡♡ I already wrote one of these and forgot to post it! thanks for reminding me~ xoxo

2.5k words - Warnings: descriptions of sex and preferences.

A is for Aftercare (What is their aftercare like?)

--- Elijah is a gentleman, so of course, he is very attentive and loving in aftercare. He is a very selfless lover who wants to make sure you're okay. He will get you something to drink, bring a warm washcloth to clean you up, and if it was a more intense encounter, he will carry you to the bath, getting in with you.

B is for Body Part (Favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

--- He is a big fan of your eyes, he loves to look into them as they dilate in pleasure while he's fucking you. He's a closed off person in general, so when he gets you in bed he pours all his feelings into the experience. He wants to see your every emotion and he will gaze into your eyes to read every feeling that's expressed.

--- I think his favorite body part of his is his hands, he enjoys them in and out of the bedroom. His hands are strong and he enjoys using them to touch you. Whether he is running his fingers through your hair, caressing your skin, or burying them inside you, he likes the intimacy that is expressed with his hands.

C is for Cum (Anything to do with cum)

--- He's a bit of a neat freak and also a gentleman, so he doesn't love the thought of cumming on you, even if you want him to. He prefers the intimacy of cumming inside you, with your consent, of course.

--- If you want him to cum in your mouth he will happily oblige, especially if you are willing to swallow. But he will always ask permission first.

D is for Dirty Secret (A dirty secret of theirs)

--- Although Elijah prefers to be in control in all aspects of his life, he secretly loves when you take control. The idea of you pushing him down and riding him or having his hands tied to the bed while you take whatever you want from him is a secret fantasy.

--- Another secret kink is that he loves to be needed and wanted. He would never admit it out loud, but he likes when you pout and beg him to kiss or touch you. He wants to feel desired and loved, and though he would be too afraid to say it, he just wants someone who needs him.

E is for Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

--- He certainly knows what he's doing, he has centuries of experience and he is very versed in all things sexual. He has had many lovers in his past, so you can trust that he is very good at pleasuring his partner.

--- He has been alive for centuries and has learned how to read body language and facial expressions. He will know if you are enjoying what he is doing or not. He loves learning your likes and dislikes and giving you exactly what you need.

F is for Favorite Position (Favorite position to have sex in)

--- A gentleman to his core, Elijah is more comfortable with traditional positions, meaning classic missionary mostly. But that doesn't mean he's boring in bed by any means. He's able to make typical positions sensual and overwhelming, providing him with deep intimacy and the power he's looking for.

--- He enjoys having your wrists pinned above your head, thrusting into you while he listens to every moan and pant that leaves your lips. He will made the sort of eye contact that leaves you feeling emotionally vulnerable, deepening the connection between you.

G is for Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

--- As a man with centuries of pent-up emotions, Elijah has trouble separating his love life with his feelings and actions. He is the perfect mixture of soft and raw when it comes to sex. He is incredibly attentive in the moment, he wants to pleasure you, make you happy, and ensure that you are feeling good. He spends a lot of time praising you and kissing you gently, then finally once you give him the okay he becomes the most intense man you've ever seen.

--- But no matter if it's rough or sensual, Elijah's love is there, and that comes through in his actions. I don't think he's cracking jokes, but he's not serious either. He will laugh and smile if the moment calls for it.

H is for Hair (How well groomed are they?)

--- From head to toe he likes everything in its place. Elijah keeps himself extremely well-groomed, everything is freshly trimmed and clean.

I is for Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect~)

--- You might have soft, romantic lovemaking, or he may pound you into the bed. Regardless, he's tender and he is trying to show his love for you in these moments. He is passionate, sensual, and loving with every action he takes. He will make sure to tell you how beautiful you are and how much he loves you while he pleasures you.

--- Elijah enjoys the slow burn, because he loves the anticipation that comes with it. He is the king of foreplay and will tease you as much as possible, before fully satisfying your desires. He thrives off the deep intimacy, the eye contact, the touches, the whispered confessions.

--- He will do whatever he can to get you as worked up as possible before he sends you over the edge.

J is for Jack Off (Masturbation)

--- He doesn't indulge in it very much, but when he does he imagines you. He imagines your pretty face, and he remembers the softness of your skin. He misses your kisses, your touch, and he strokes his cock to remember what it's like when you're wrapped around him. When he cums it's to the thought of pounding into you while you gasp his name and claw at his back.

K is for Kink (One or more of their kinks)

--- As I said previously he really likes being in control. He enjoys dominating you, but it's always in a tender and gentle way. His dominance has nothing to do with degradation and humiliation, it's more of a desire to please you and be in power of how that pleasure occurs.

--- I also think Elijah is a bit of a voyeur. There are so many instances where he is just watching, quietly observing everyone and every conversation. He's a discreet person, and this trait follows him into the bedroom. He enjoys watching you pleasure yourself. He will sit back, relaxed in a chair with his sleeves rolled up, while you strip and touch yourself on the bed. He gets an immense amount of pleasure from watching you get so worked up, only to snap and take over when he's ready.

L is for Location (Favorite places to have sex)

--- He prefers having you under him on his bed, making love to you slowly in a tangle of limbs. But he isn't opposed to other places, like his study or even the kitchen, as long as it's private and he can protect you from any prying eyes.

M is for Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

--- Well, its pretty much canon that Elijah loves hot brunettes that challenge him. Just look at Hayley, Gia and Katherine.

--- I think he's attracted to passionate people, who aren't afraid to chase what they want. He's really attracted to power and a strong character, so someone who won't take any bullshit is right up his alley.

--- I think his polite and gentlemanly nature gets in his own way when it comes to love. It's hard for him to find the words to express his wants and needs so you will have to make the first move. He truly admires when a woman takes control and tells him exactly what to do. But he won't let her stay in control for long.

N is for NO (Something they would never do)

--- He would never degrade or insult you, no matter how rough the sex is, he will still be whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

--- He's not a friends with benefits or hate sex kind of person. He needs intimacy and genuine connection, so a one night stand is extremely unlikely to happen with him. He may be a flirt, but he wants something far deeper than lust when he gets you in his bed.

--- His greatest fear is hurting you, physically or emotionally. So he will not even entertain anything that could put you at risk, especially extreme bondage or knife play.

O is for Oral (Do they prefer giving or receiving?)

--- As I said in my headcanons, I think he may of popularized eating pussy to begin with, so he is definitely into giving. He was probably the first man who fell to his knees and worshipped his lover, eating you out before there was even a term for it. He is so good with his mouth and will give you the best orgasm of your life, without fail.

--- But if you do want to suck his cock, he would definitely appreciate it, and it's likely you'll end up on your back with him returning the favor.

P is for Pace (Are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

--- It depends on his mood, but generally he's the perfect combination of both.

--- Elijah loves the intimacy, so when the night starts, he will take his time, building the tension. He will slowly kiss your neck, whispering sweet words of praise in your ear. Then he will start taking your clothes off, caressing every inch of skin that is exposed. Once he gets his hand between your legs, he will enjoy fingering you until you are a dripping mess.

--- After that, it's up to him. If he is craving intimacy, he will make love to you, and take his time. He will worship your body and fuck you until you're seeing stars.

--- If he's craving the intense pleasure, then he will bend you over, or maybe he'll throw you onto the bed, and pound you into the mattress. It depends on the night.

Q is for Quickie (Their opinion on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

--- He prefers to be unhurried, taking his time and making your time together last as long as possible. He isn't against the idea of a quickie, but he won't initiate them. If you are at a party or event and you get needy, you will have to whisper your request in his ear and drag him away, which will probably lead to him pinning you against a wall out of sight.

R is for Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?)

--- He's a overly cautious person in every aspect of his life, so he is going to be very reluctant to take risks, especially in the bedroom. The most risky thing he will be up for is spanking and tying your wrists.

--- He would be very reluctant to drink from you because of his traumatic past, but if you consent it will be taken straight from your neck and very gentle.

S is for Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

--- He's a vampire, and not just an average one, so his stamina is endless. He can go forever, and if he was a human, he'd be the man that could go for hours.

--- He's a gentleman so he is going to make sure your pleasure comes first. He achieves satisfaction from knowing that he made you feel good. He's always more focused on your orgasm, and he is extremely skilled at drawing them out of you.

T is for Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

--- He's not against them, he just doesn't find himself using them. Elijah is a very self-sufficient man, and he enjoys providing pleasure by himself. He finds the act of pleasuring someone extremely erotic, so he prefers to use his hands and mouth, rather than a toy. But he will definitely use a vibrator on you if you ask.

U is for Unfair (How much do they like to tease?)

--- He's an absolute tease, but it's the subtle, not over the top kind. He will run his hand across the small of your back while walking past. He will let his fingers graze over your ass or your chest in public, just to get you worked up.

--- But his greatest form of teasing is using eye contact. He will look at you from across the room and hold your gaze until you're squirming. It's a quiet, private kind of teasing, that makes your head spin.

V is for Volume (How loud are they? What sounds do they make?)

--- He is very controlled, he barely ever makes a sound. If you can pull moans out of him, you are doing something very right. If you want to hear him groan, you'll have to squeeze tight around his cock or dig your nails into his shoulder.

--- He enjoys listening to the noises that you make, he loves hearing you whimper and moan, the louder the better, especially if it's his name.

--- He also loves to talk during sex, asking you questions and talking dirty, all while keeping his voice steady and composed.

W is for Wild Card (Random headcannon)

--- Just like Klaus I think Elijah is an absolute simp for the person he loves. He may be one of the most powerful creatures on earth, but if his lover tells him to do something he's doing it.

--- He's the type of man who will do anything to make his lover happy, which means that he will spoil you rotten. He will shower you in gifts and affection, and he is more than happy to oblige any request that you may have.

--- He's not very possessive, just protective. He will be there for you and defend you against anyone and anything, but he's not the jealous or clingy type.

X is for X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants)

--- You know what? It's whatever you want it to be, I am not going to say any particular size. But, I believe it to be very aesthetically pleasing, just like the rest of him.

Y is for Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

--- He's the kind of person who can control his desires, and can keep his feelings under control. That being said, he does have a sex drive. {He's a vampire, after all, everything is heightened} But since his feelings are always tightly bottled up, it takes a lot for him to show them, including sex.

Z is for ZZZ (How quickly do they fall asleep afterwards?)

--- Elijah is a big fan of pillow talk, and will usually keep you up late into the night, whispering his thoughts into the darkness. He will tell you about the past, he will confide his fears, and he will pour his heart out. He will talk about things he has never shared with anyone else.

--- He will want to be close to you as possible. He'll pull you against him, and tuck your head into the crook of his neck. He'll whisper his love and devotion and you'll fall asleep, feeling safe and secure.