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#but keep it out of my inbox and dms!!!!!!!!!!!
goldkirk · 4 days
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Disclaimer for everyone: I need to avoid a lot of the unhelpful noise about recent events so I’m not going to be online for more than a couple minutes at a time here and there for several days.
My main priority with political and world event topics is the hard and careful discussions about them I have with specific people I have ongoing inroads with who are still in high control situations. I don’t have time and energy to engage with anyone about leftist moral superiority and bickering. Full stop. I’m donating money I can spare and I’m actively and constantly working with people still in the same high-control/cult groups I came out of.
Don’t come into my inbox again with more claims I’m supporting evil by not trying to bring about an immediate revolution against colonialism and capitalism while I’m just trying to keep some people alive and critically thinking long enough to get out of high control groups and actually vote, volunteer, and change policy. I hear you. I understand your anger. I’m not your real target though. Please focus somewhere else.
Thank you.
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ratatatastic · 11 days
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can we pls discuss how the cats are all so horny for them getting Big and Strong and Fit and Buff. If we lived in A/B/O world the locker room and gym would be flooded with pheromones at all times
you my dear anon have truly opened yap-dora's box with this one do not get me started on this please PLEASE you know how nasty this team would go at it in an abo-verse? the pheromones would just be in a constant feedback loop if these boys weren't forced to put on blockers and use suppressants because its really the way they talk about each other and the way their affection shows
and i think just the past few days we've had so many anecdotes of paul talking about how much fitter the cats are, or players commenting on their own physique or other players talking about how much they noticed how big other players have gotten is sooooo
so allow me splurge about all the stuff these horny cats have done that live on in my brain in an abo context because yap-dora's box has been opened. dear god save us all.
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the sc celebrations on and off ice: all the neck nuzzling, sashas penchant for grabbing people by the neck/head (ekky, lundy) or just ragdolling guys (forsy) about because who can say no to pack alpha? hes pack alpha! let him do whatever he wants to you! guide his hand to where you want it most (your neck)! absolutely melt that hes letting you touch his neck in return he trusts you that much! feel safe and warm with his hand on you! go limp! let him move you about! pack alpha gets whatever he wants!!
ekkys also specifically brought up monty grabbing the back of his head and rubbing his forehead on his so hard it actually hurt after winning the cup and its always lovely to see some good ole pack bonding that is the forehead nuzzle because sometimes an omega does need hard touch to keep them present
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and speaking of ekky... ekky being ekky and grabbing the nearest warm neck to stick his nose into because this poor omega has toiled since game 4 and riddled with anxiety aplenty and hes de-stressing by surrounding himself with pack lest he breaks down and cries again (despite the fact he absolutely did cry on the ice) needs to be reminded hes safe now its all over hes allowed to be spoiled again and filled with the scents of all the people that he loves to soothe him
also all the club e11even shenanigans are truly unmatched sasha being very mmmmghghg with lundy, sasha being mmmdgfdghd with everyone (because pack leader of course has to re-scent everyone in a crowded club his scent gets washed out by all the sweat and people and likes his pack to smell like him :( and whilst hes not super territorial sober he does get more possessive when hes inebriated, listens more to his base instincts screaming at him that he can barely sniff out his pack and thats a no-no he likes his pack to be his), ekky clinging onto sasha (because omega is feeling loveydovey and displaying submissive behaviours to appeal to their pack leader)
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but also specifically benny holding maffhew by the neck is always fun to remember because he wasnt super super touchy with anyone that night but maffhew is always an exception of course and wouldnt want to scruff this fun flirty omega? especially one you have so much storied history we love play behaviours we love tussling to re-establish pack dynamics
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re: to also expand upon possessive pack leader sasha, sasha making the finns wear a shirsey with barkov city at the front of it during his cup day because that was a thing that very much still haunts me because now they each just have shirts with sashas and theirs name on it. which im sure sasha is very pleased about and thisll probably be the most possessive we'll see him get in a sober context and by god did my jaw drop
also my favourite examples of all this big talk is when mikksy gets brought up and theyre like oh hes soooooo strong hes mean (froths at the mouth at how he can push them around) sorry yall this is my guy i will be annoying about him specifically very much we have a fun new overseer to put us in our place! unfortunately the omegas on this team are very much just in constant preheat at this point like where do i even begin WHERE
also do i have to mention anything about forsy ever? do i have to? presented without comment! the graphic!
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(added bonus of all the shit paul said about forsy these past days lmao)
and i just think this team is horny for each at all times and theres so many more examples and pack goes crazy theyre all fucking each other THE LOCKER ROOM REEKS
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musette22 · 2 months
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I don't know if I've ever done this (and if not, then it's high time I did), but I just want to take a second to thank a second to thank every lovely person who's ever found their way to my inbox, anonymously or otherwise ❤️
Thanks for sharing your often incredibly interesting thoughts, thanks for telling and showing me things I would've never seen otherwise because I'm not great at finding new content (honestly, I'd be so out of the loop without you guys!), thanks for all the hilarious and thoughtful and kind messages I've had the pleasure of receiving over the years, thanks for yelling with me about the good and the bad stuff (mostly the good though, you know that's my jam), and just - thanks for making this tumblr thing and fandom experience exponentially nicer and more enjoyable by sharing it with me 💛
I am sending so much love to each and one of your inboxes in return and I'm hugging you all in my mind like this!! 😘
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fo-ryourconsideration · 11 months
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Today’s characters that selfshippers should consider F/O-ing are:
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(Photo: Karli Cadel)
Bégearss and Wilhelm from The Ghosts of Versailles!
[Mod note: I am begging you guys to watch Bégearss's worm aria because I cannot even begin to describe how much is wrong with this man. He is vile. He has a riding crop. He's even a tenor. You can fix him.]
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zozo-01 · 2 years
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"this chain will never end (but i'll fucking try)."
Well... umm... this one's a lot. A bit of a vent piece and I won't lie and say I didn't tear up at some parts. But what better way to cope than me writing? So here we are.
[Shoutout to @taelonsamada and @dominimoonbeam for being scared when I said I thought of some HuxDami angst that made me cry. I promise this one's got a bit more comfort than the IRL version of this story.]
CW: Dealing with an unaccepting parent of the LGBTQ+ child, Damien displaying signs of disordered eating, Sophia is implied to be an immigrant (which makes Dames a second gen immigrant), Both are implied to be POC but can be interpreted otherwise, Zozo dumping onto Damien
click here for the AO3 link!!!
--
For a man as disciplined and structured as Damien, there were only a few rules that he keeps near and dear to his heart. Your best is never enough, you can always do better. Even at your worst moments, you must find a way through. Failure is never an option.
(It’s funny, Damien realizes. Any time he would repeat the rules in his head, it was never his voice, but his mother’s. He doesn’t remember when she embedded those ideas into him, or maybe he inherited through her blood.)
His favourite rule, and the one he finds himself going back to the most is ‘out of sight, out of mind’. He often finds himself caught up in the minute details, so it’s imperative for him to remember that if it’s not in his immediate vicinity, he shouldn’t worry much about it. Besides, he likes the line itself.  It’s catchy, it’s simple and can be applied to many situations. And Damien does love it when things are efficient and effective. 
It can be applied to that time he had gotten a subpar grade on an exam. It had been crushing. He spent hours and blood and tears to study, only to fail in the end. His heart had turned into a void, mind leaving his body. Had he eaten anything the night before, it would have been on the floor in front of him. Was this a violent reaction to something as trivial as a bad grade? Maybe. But Damien would not- could not accept failure. So when he fails, his body would rather twist itself inside out than to accept that reality. 
(His mother’s reaction was particularly crushing. She wasn’t mad, just disappointed, and that might have been even worse than any verbal abuse he’s suffered at her hand.) 
Instead of wallowing in his own failures, he swallowed his pain and worked harder. He burned the exam paper, deleted the email. Anything that reminded him of that shitty mark, he destroyed. Now that the monster was gone, he can now focus on the next exam. If his nose wasn’t in a book, frantically scribbling down all the information he needed to absorb, then he was in the field, applying his knowledge to his magic. Making it brighter, hotter, better. 
Even on the days he was grasping on straws, where his fire couldn’t even spark embers, he found something, anything, to keep going. And on days when his setbacks creep back to haunt him, he finds a way to keep it off his mind.
(His mother’s words were a good motivator and reminder. “You are my son, Damien. You do not fail. Do better next time.” Because there was always a next time. There had to be.)
When the second round of grades came around, and the professor congratulated Damien for his improvement, he simply scoffed. “This is nothing to congratulate me for, Professor. This is the bare minimum I expect of myself.” This was his normal, it had to be.
It didn’t matter that Huxley had found Damien passed out on the training fields on more than one occasion. Or that Lasko thought that he was a zombie when the young fire elemental walked into his class. Or that the only reason he ate during those few weeks was because Gavin and Freelancer would force food and water down his throat.
Nothing mattered except his perfection, and forgetting about his own pain had helped with that.
(His mother was satisfied with his academic excellence after his lack of success. Not happy or proud or impressed, just… satisfied. “This is what I expect from you, Damien. Maintain this level from here on out.” From just that, it sounds like Sophia is a horrible woman, not even acknowledging her son’s triumph through pain, but Damien swears that if you heard her say it, you can hear a flicker of pride in her voice. He’ll never know, but the chance that his mother was happy with him is enough to keep pushing on. His mom is not a bad person.)
(She was happy with her son, but she will never tell him.)
His favourite rule had also helped when it came to his mother’s political career. 
As within most families, Damien and Sophia had their ideological differences. Damien had always been a little radical when it came to the discrimination within the empowered world. On the other hand, Sophia thoroughly believed that if she plays by the rules of the systems in place, she’ll be able to do more good than harm. They both had the good of the public in mind, but their methods of achieving their shared dream couldn’t be any more different. 
When it comes to people with such different perspectives, there should have been arguments, maybe some screaming if one or both sides couldn’t convey their points properly. But that never happened in their household. There were tense dinners and words that wanted to be said, only for silence to follow.
For as long as he can remember, Damien and his mother never really talked about disagreements. It had always been Sophia telling Damien something, an order, a fact, a plan or whatever, with such sureness that Damien thought she took her own word for Gospel. Whether he vehemently disagreed with what she said, wanting to pick apart her arguments to prove that she’s wrong, it didn’t matter. Damien would bite his lip and hold his tongue. He nodded in agreement with what his mother said, because he’d rather burn himself alive with his own fire than feel the wrath of his mother’s flames. (And nothing pained him more than the burn of Sophia’s disapproval.) 
That’s where ‘out of sight, out of mind’ had also kicked in. He would bury his mother’s beliefs so deep within his brain, that he would forget they ever existed. Part of it so that he can pretend to be the perfect son that she wanted. (Though Damien doesn’t ever know if he’ll be that. He’s long accepted that he wouldn’t be what she wants.) The other part was to remind himself that while maybe his mother's truths were outdated, they didn’t make her a bad person. That was what she was raised with. (Was beat with.) 
His mom wasn’t a bad person. (Accepting that meant accepting his own pain, something he kept far into the rearview mirror.)
But she made it hard for him to forget that.
“Oh, I don’t mind them, I know many people who belong to that community. I just wish they stopped shoving it down our faces. Don’t you agree, Damien?”
He smiled, a forced, pained smile, but one that was enough to placate his mother. Against his own will, Damien nodded to his mother’s words, not wanting to create a scene in the middle of the ballroom. He couldn’t bring himself to say it, to verbally agree with her. Especially with his own growing feelings.
Shortly after the Inversion (or it may have been the catalyst), Damien had fostered feelings for his best friend. The kind earth elemental that has been nothing caring towards him, even when he didn’t deserve it. At night, he fantasizes about the places he’d take him out to. Or the activities Huxley would have planned for him. Or the feeling of his arms around him, holding him close to his chest. Or the way Huxley’s hands would trail over his body, slipping under his pants to grab his-
He shook his head. He didn’t need to think about Huxley’s hands jerking him off. Though that would be better than being in this stuffy gala with these stuffy clothes.
 (Now that he thinks about it, he wonders how good Huxley would look in a suit and tie… Did it get hotter in here or was it just him?)
There had been days where his love for the man would burst out of his chest, threatening to burn himself alive the same way his flames incinerated anything in its path. And in those moments, Damien wondered if he could go to his mother to talk about it. Maybe she can offer some perspective? Maybe comfort that Damien would make it out of this crush alive, whether that be with or without Huxley.
That comment from Sophia had reminded him why he would never do that. 
Just like he destroyed any remnants of failure so that he wouldn't agonize over it, his mother’s view over those who loved differently firmly fell into that category as well. He tried, really he does, to not think about the snide comments and disproving gaze whenever a rainbow flag had come into view. But Sophia loved to remind him (albeit without meaning too) about her very wrong opinions about the community.
Did she know that everything that she said, that she felt, would also apply to him?
If she knew that Damien was one of the “heathens” that she often finds herself mocking in private, would it change her mind? Would she let go of all of her prejudices that she held so deeply? Accept her son and Huxley for who they were and support them no matter what? 
When he wasn’t confronted head on with Sophia disdain, he can pretend that he’d have the perfect coming out story. He would sit her down at the dinner table, with a home cooked meal that he put his soul into. He was thinking it would be a dish from his mother’s home country. His palms would be sweating and posture tense. He’d be nervous, obviously. He didn’t know what his mother’s reaction would be to his greatest secret. Disgust? Joy? Indifference? He didn’t know and that terrified him.
His mother would ask him if anything happened at school, since that’s the only topic that she could think of that may bring this amount of strife to her son. She’d question if it had been a student or a professor messing with him, offering to use her position as a magistrate to ‘deal’ with the issue.
(Ain’t it funny how a mother will walk through hell for her son without a second thought, but accepting him for who he loves is what she finds difficult?) 
Damien would decline, both the inquisition and the offer. No one was bothering, nor was there any reason for his mother to use her power like that.
Sophia with a puzzled face, would ask what was wrong. It would cause Damien to take a deep breath, opening his mouth and revealing the secret he buried in his soul. 
And she would smile and give him a hug. Because she was his mother and would love him no matter what, accepting him with open arms.
“Son, you never have to hide this part of yourself. I will love you and your partner no matter who they are.”
That was the unconditional love of a mother that he was raised seeing on TV, and even if his mother wasn’t as loving, she would still welcome him into her heart, right?
But deep down, despite the numerous leaps in logic that he took and the truth he buried deep within him, Damien knew what her reaction would be. Why confess a secret if it puts your life in danger? Why confess a secret, only to be met with hatred, or worse, disappointment?
Damien’s heart dropped, the familiar pit returning at the same realization that he made when he was a child. That there would never be a scenario or a universe where Sophia won’t loathe him for being different. It’s a freight train he tries to forget that exists, but forgetting could never truly get rid of it. 
He shook himself out of his thoughts, and with a closed lipped smile, he asked his mother to leave for a breath of fresh air. She allowed it, and Damien sped out of the stuffy room, away from his mother’s intolerance looming over him.
Thankfully, he was far enough away from the main room for his tears to not embarrass himself nor taint his mother’s reputation. Even during moments of weakness, he had his mother’s image to maintain.
His rage flowed through as quickly as the tears dripping from his green eyes. Why on earth, after coming to terms with this sad fact years ago, did it douse his fire when he heard Sophia’s disapproval? Why couldn’t he let go of the childish notion that mother’s love is unconditional because it clearly isn’t? Why couldn’t his mom just love him like she promised to?
He’s had years to come to terms with this.
But it hurts. It fucking hurts and he wants to be held and told that he’s not broken or disgusting for loving who he loves and just feel the warmth of his mother’s hug and-
A ring from his phone brought him back from his spiral, and he looked to see that it was a phone call from Huxley. He answered once he cleared his throat, not wanting to worry his friend with his nonsensical crying.
“Hello?”
“Hey dude! Are you still at your mom’s work gala?”
He winced at the mention of his mother, thankful that the earth elemental couldn’t see his physical reactions. “Yea, but it’s almost over.”
“Awesome! Also, Gavin wanted to ask if you’re still down to go to that drag show this Friday?”
Gavin and his partner invited the rest of them to a drag show done by an old friend of his. Damien accepted of course, wanting to have a good time yes, but also because he’s never been to one. Rarely did Damien feel like he belonged in the room, even within his own family, but perhaps he could at the show, surrounded by friends. 
“Of course I’ll be there.” Damien saw the message from his mom, telling him that they’ll be heading back to their place now. “I got to go, but I’ll talk later.”
“Alright dude, see you soon!”
He said his goodbyes and walked back to the main room, trying to calm his beating heart before Sophia asked what had happened. But at least the dread that filled his body was replaced with excitement and joy.
Maybe, just maybe, Damien will find acceptance, a home, with the new friends he called family.
(Sophia saw her son walking back inside, smiling with a pep in his step. It was an unfamiliar motion from him and she wanted to know what had happened. She kept that question to herself though, knowing that he wouldn’t get an answer. When did the distance between her and Damien get so far that he doesn’t go to her anymore? Where had the days gone when he would tell her everything?)
(Had she done something to make Damien feel unsafe to go to her?)
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kg2hub · 29 days
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kindergala? more like: lou singlehandedly revives the kindergarten tumblr rp community part 2 electric boogaloo /lh /silly
#🖋️ ––– ・゚★。・:*:・゚☆ 001. Misc.#actually maybe this is the 3rd time if u count the months of hiatus we had before getting back to it with new blogs and then stopping again#∠( ツ 」∠)_ idk why ppl keep indulging my rp brainrot like this sometimes but tysm for keeping the streak going :'D#also genuinely tho thank you everyone for being so excited for the kindergala and making this so much more fun than it would've been alone#like!!! the energy and response to this event so far has been outstanding!!!!!! and i am so grateful fr!! :'''3#i love the designs everyone's been making. i love the plans for interactions. i love the art and writing. i love the designs from ppl who#aren't participating but want to design something fun and cool anyway!!! (ps that is 100% valid and completely in line with the spirit of#kindergala!! this is a creativity exercise event as well for sure!!!!)#i know that it would still be fun even if it was just me and very few of my friends. but it's gotten a lot bigger than i thought it would#and i am so so happy abt that and happy that you are all enjoying yourselves and interacting with each other within the community like this#there are some shy ppl i've noticed! but it really seems like ppl are less shy about interacting than the 1st time around!!#and if you are shy: pls remember plenty of other people are too. but they joined this event to interact with other kg fans just like you#and it would probably make them happy if you reached out!! just like you'd probably be happy to have someone reach out to you too#and if you're scared about not knowing who to interact with. my inbox and dms are always open. i give you express permission to interact :D#i'm over on my displacedbias blog!! :3#also if anyone is feeling negative about this or like things need some improvement during the event-- feel free to talk to me abt feedback!#or if you just need to talk to someone in general. very much not a therapist but i will help to the best of my ability :')
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kuromi-hoemie · 5 months
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I saw your post about wanting to torture someone with tickles. Hope I'm not stepping over the line to say hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii about it
you're not but i was talking about irl 🫡
also bc i don't really talk about it ig, the secret to whether I'm receptive/flirty/etc with you (generally, not you specifically, this is a turn and talk at the audience moment) is i will leave you little earnest love notes in the tags of your selfies when i reblog them.
don't post face? ❌ not interested
do but i never interact? ❌ not interested
like... a girl just likes to be open about what she's thinking and i love giving compliments just bc and do it all the time both on and offline, so there's def not any expectations w my tags, but they can also be taken as a tiny bow of courtship u can choose to act on or not 🙇🏾‍♀️
i know other ppl are very into anons or just hitting it off with anybody or whatever but i think that like. For Me, the ideal interaction is we both rb each other with some nice tags - showing and reciprocating in a very non-committal/no expectations kinda way, and after seeing that it's mutual then sure go for it 👍🏾
i love sharing audio sometimes and tbh might start moving nudes/lewds back to more private channels bc i forgot How Many People you have to block after posting them lmaoo.
🫵🏾 but i do appreciate tags being left for me and tbh sometimes i miss that accounts that usually post their body also Do share their face and they're very hot and i feel very silly for missing it ಠ⁠ᴥ⁠ಠ ♡⁠ hi oomfies sorry for being late to the party but it's good to be here.
anyways. i like this more subtle/non-committal kind of acknowledgement first, bc if i get asks or DMs i either have to ignore it or tell people I'm not attracted to them which is always really awkward 😶‍🌫️ especially for people I've never even talked to before, or people who take the tiniest bit of very simple acknowledgement and flood my DMs over everything.
which again, compliments are fine, but like.. a Talk To Me mindset bundled with it is imposing u guys 👉🏾👈🏾 just bc someone is cute doesn't mean they have to talk to u, just bc they say thank u to an unsolicited DM doesn't mean they want u to send a dozen more. without even getting a response to any of them too.... 🥸
I'm just kinda here to have fun and i like sharing myself and my thoughts to different degrees but none of it is rly an open invitation or a request. just keep it in the tags pls. tags r what usually pique my interest anyhow!! i like people who got something to say 🙇🏾‍♀️
i want to reemphasize this is a very general message and not at u specifically, there r other asks in my inbox and other persistent ppl who have been blocked over spamming my DMs, and this feels too nuanced and specific to add to my already long and kind of annoyed sounding (bc it is 💀) pinned. so yeah!!!!! i did get a lot of new followers recently so it's a good time for a periodic reminder
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monstrsball · 2 years
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forming a mp100 pokemon au fic centered around mob meeting mewtwo in my head... maybe i'll add this to my drafts... going full 'cringe culture is dead'
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dylanconrique · 2 years
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finally caught myself up with the rookie!! 🥰
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hedonicghost · 1 year
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cant scroll the dash on mobile because i keep seeing an ad that triggers me so everyone has to send me the funney posts today ty
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faithinlouisfuture · 1 year
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mandarinmoons · 3 months
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Soft snores came out of Spencer’s mouth as he lay beside you, deep in sleep. His arm was draped over you and his fingers had a light grip on your shirt, even in his sleep he needed to be latched onto you like a baby koala in some way.
You were reading a book and usually needed complete silence in order to focus on the words, but the sounds emitting from Spencer were more like white noise rather than something that bothered you. Maybe it was light enough to the point that it didn’t bother you or maybe you were just so head over feels for him that anything he did made you fall for him deeper.
Occasionally Spencer would open his eyes and quickly skim over the page to keep up with what you were reading. Even if the plot wasn’t something he was keen on he’d still take the time to read through it as he wanted to be up to date with your interests. Lord knows how many times he’d kept you up late at night talking about a new scientific journal he’d flipped through and knowing it wasn’t something you’re quite interested in, but you still listened to him and he wanted to return the favor.
Spencer would mumble out the lines he was reading and from the corner of your eye you saw his lips move along. His hand would reach up and rest on the back of your hand, his thumb lightly caressing the skin. It felt like he was tricking you to put the book down so you’d spend some time doting on him and you honestly wouldn’t mind. With his sleepy face and messy hair it was hard to ignore how adorable he looked and how he’d look even better with you snuggling in his arms.
Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal @cumulo-stratus @themarauderseraslut @gayfor-rosadiaz @gubsbuubs @multifandomsimp69 @chyozai @deppfanatic @potatovoyager
If you'd like to be removed from the taglist send me a DM or a message in my inbox
If you want to be a part of my taglist go here!
You can find my masterlist here!
Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3
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horce-divorce · 1 month
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hey so idk if any of you care about this but I made a Community for current/about to be/formerly homeless people to hang out, and Tumblr approved it just the other day.
no real requirement here. It doesnt matter what type of or degree of homelessness you've experienced, how imminent it may be, or how far in the past it was for you, or how you got displaced. you can share your story if you want, or not. you can just post memes if you want, i don't really give a fuck, as long as you can be normal to homeless people you're welcome to come chill.
again, no matter the reason for your being displaced, all with any level of personal experience with homelessness or housing insecurity are welcome.
when you're homeless, people treat you differently. it becomes painfully obvious how having community is life saving, because suddenly you are excluded from so much of it. In 10 years of homelessness (my entire adult life), ive found that people are often the source of my troubles... and that community is also my best resource. It's a very fine and frustrating line to walk, and as is the case with other facets of my identity (disability, queerness etc), I find it much more refreshing and palatable to talk to other people who Just Get It, rather than petitioning someone to hear or understand me.
reddit has many different subs for homelessness (r/homeless, r/autistichomeless, r/urbancarliving, r/carliving, r/vandwellers, r/almosthomeless, r/vagabond & r/VagabondEurope, and probably others). I wanted a space like that on tumblr, too. please come hang out with me, I wanna hear how you're doing.
It's private to keep out the haters, so if you want to join you can either reply here or DM/inbox me privately if you'd prefer, and I'll send you an invite ✌️
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vivwritesfics · 5 months
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Hello! I love your writing and just saw that your requests are open! I was wondering if you would be willing to write for norlestappen x reader something with a mix of fluff and spice maybe someone hits on the reader and they go into protective mode but another driver on the Grid is the readers brother and thinks that they're being TOO protective?
Thank you for all your writing and I hope you can do something with this mess if not I totally understand 😁
okay so they are a throuple throughout this, russell reader bc that's been on my mind
warnings: they get called toxic at one point
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1. That time in the club - Charles
She wasn't even there with them, not technically anyway. They just also happened to be there, watching as she danced with her friends.
Lando looked all parts frat boy in the club: shirt open to reveal a bit of his chest and the necklaces he wore (one for his sister, one for his loves), and backwards snapback. Max was in his skinny years (you can take the boy out of the Netherlands, but not the Netherlands out of the boy). Charles had those stupid star jeans that he loved so much (and she loved them, too).
They weren't there to interrupt her night with her friends, but they were aware of just how pretty she was. It was kind of toxic, wasn't it? That they didn't want her in the club without them there to keep an eye on her.
But then that fucking guy came up to her.
Her friends had turned away for two seconds, walked up to the bar to get them all some drinks, and that guy took his chance.
Charles saw it first. He was laughing at something Max was saying when he saw the guy walk up to her and whisper something in her ear.
In an instant he'd shoved his drink into Lando's hand and strode over. His face was set in anger that wasn't usually seen outside of the race track as he pushed the guys hand away from her and pulled her in. "Can I help you?" He asked.
But, as soon as he said it, he turned away from the guy, small smile gracing his lips as he pressed a kiss to her temple. "Is he bothering you?" He asked, but the guy couldn't hear him over the music.
"He's okay," she said and tipped his face towards her so that she could properly kiss him, so that the guy stood in front of them could she who she belonged to.
(As soon as she had kissed one of her boyfriends, she turned towards the other two. But she couldn't beckon them over and kiss them in front of this guy, not without him getting the wrong idea).
The guy backed away. "Crikey," she mumbled as soon as he had walked off. "I thought he'd never leave
2. That time in her Instagram DMs - Lando
When you have a super hot girlfriend, it shouldn't come as a surprise when people are sliding into her DMs.
It had happened a couple of times, and Lando, Max and Charles were always there to delete the messages from her inbox (she didn't have a PR team to look after her like her boyfriends and her brother did).
And, although she never ever answered, although she was very public with her relation ship with not one, not two, but three formula one drivers, people still tried.
Most of the time, people slipped through the cracks. It was easy to ignore the accounts constantly messaging her because, well, she just didn't care to answer.
But then she saw the accounts that popped up again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again.
She didn't mean to click on his DMs. Actually, Lando had sent a meme to the groupchat and she'd meant to click on that instead. But then his notification was at the top, where she was about to click. And she fucking clicked it.
It wasn't his messages that she saw first. No, it was a penis. A dick pic, that had been sitting in her DMs for... how long? As soon as it was on her screen she threw her phone and covered her mouth.
Taking a minute to recover she stood and walked to find Lando at his PlayStation. If this had been a few years ago, he would have been streaming. Thank God he wasn't.
"Lan," she said and sat on his lap. "This was your fault, you fix it."
He looked at her phone, and almost threw up. "How the fuck was this my fault?"
"If you hadn't sent that meme to the groupchat, I wouldn't have accidentally clicked this!"
But Lando still furrowed his brows at her. So, she explained it all to him (that this guy was one of those freaks that constantly messaged her).
Lando fixed it. He took a picture of himself, hood up, curls visible out the front of his hood, and middle finger up. The expression on his face was clearly unimpressed as he stared at the camera.
This is her boyf, fuck off
It was cringe and cliché, and she loved it. The guy in her DMs opened the picture instantly, and Lando blocked him.
He passed her phone back and she climbed onto his lap. "Thank youuuuuuu," she said and hissed his neck a couple of times.
Lando's hands settled on her hip. "No more opening dick pics unless they're from me, yeah?"
She agreed to that.
3. That time with George - Max
There was nothing worse than seeing her brothers car collide with one of her boyfriends. But, if it had to be one of them, why did it have to be Max?
Max, who got out of the car, fuming. Max, who couldn't be stopped by Lando or Charles as he marched over to George.
They got into a fight, one that was clearly about more than the crash. Nobody knew what either man had said. Lando rushed over, while Charles ran to her and pulled him against her, hiding her in his chest.
"She's my fucking sister!" George shouted as Lando got between them. "She's my sister and you treat her like you own her!" His eyes moved to Lando, and then to Charles. "All of you do."
She didn't know George had this kind of problem with her relationship. Of course, it didn't change anything. She loved them, she knew what there relationship was all about, and she was happy.
But her brother was still fighting with her boyfriend. She pulled away from Charles and strode over. "George!" She shouted, and her brother turned towards her. "What the fuck!"
"It's racing stuff."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm not stupid," she said. "I heard everything, you idiot."
"Oh," he said and stood up straight. "Well, I'm right, aren't I? Max wouldn't be trying to kick the shit out of me."
She frowned. "Is your problem that I'm dating them, or that they're protective?"
"Possessive."
"Protective."
"Possessive."
This went on for a little while. Max, Lando and Charles stood behind her, watching as the siblings went back and forth. When Charles laid his hand on her shoulder, she snapped back into it. "Right, yeah," she said and shook her head. "They're not possessive. Lando saved me from a guy with dick pic the other day, George! Or do you want me getting sent dick picks every five minutes."
George rolled his eyes. "Of course not," he said. "But-"
"Then shut the fuck up and stop trying to kill my boyfriend on track."
a/n: this one got away from me and i'm not proud of the ending lmao
677 notes · View notes
wholoveseggs · 3 months
Text
Rules {Part Five}
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Part Five
It was never a good idea, falling in love with the enemy. But how were you supposed to know how it would all end up?
♡♡ THANK YOU so much for all the love for this series!!! I had so much fun reading all your comments and inbox messages. Enjoy! and please don't hate me for the ending...♡♡
10.7k words {sorry not sorry} - Warnings: salvatore!sibling reader, smuttttt, Elijah being the sexiest middle-part menace he can be, secret affair, forbidden romance, KLAUS, a little Katherine cameo, ritual sacrifice, death, murder, pain, pain and more pain...
{Part One} {Part Two}{Part Three} {Part Four}
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♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡
Trying to fix my tags! I re-added all of you, and now you will be posted at the top!
If you no longer wished to be tagged just shoot me a DM {I won't be offended} xoxo~
@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv
@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming @criminallminds @rosemarypotion @spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse @sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2 @itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury @sekaishell @ziayamikaelson @amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28 @loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123
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Information, of all things of value in this world, is most precious. Katherine had learned that the hardest of ways.
She had been trying to keep tabs on everyone, especially the Salvatore brothers, who were the cause of her most recent headaches. Dwelling on the irony of that made her skin itch, considering the amount of time she had spent causing them grief.
She was sipping on a glass of bourbon, trying not to think about how her plans were crumbling. She hoped to charm Elijah, get him to protect her like he did last time.
But when he found her, he wasn't the same. He didn't have the same softness about him, the gentleness in his eyes. He was harder, angrier, more ruthless. She supposed that was her fault, she wondered how her life would have turned out had she trusted him...
She didn't regret her choice, she knew it was worth it, she always chose her freedom first, nothing else mattered. 
And she had almost gotten away, if only she had a little more information.
But now, here she was, back under the thumb of the man who had taken everything from her.
Klaus.
"Please, just...kill me. I've told you everything that I know," she pleaded, not sure why she was bothering.
He never showed her mercy, but she couldn't help but hope he would spare her, if not for old times sake.
"You see, I believe that you believe that, but what would you not know? What could they be keeping from you? Hmm? Anything? Tell me." He said, his voice was calm as he compelled her to speak the truth.
"When I was at the Salvatore house, I saw their sister, drugged and unconscious. They were keeping her that way,"she said, her voice trembling, she couldn't control the words that came out.
Klaus smiled, the wheels turning in his mind, "Any theories on why they would do that to her?"
Katherine had an idea, but she had no proof. She had no idea what Damon was up to, but he always had a plan.
"I don't know," she said, shaking her head, she didn't like where this was going.
"C'mon, you have always been a clever little minx," Klaus purred, his hand coming up to caress her cheek, it made her feel sick. 
"The only reason I can think of is to stop her from doing something," Katherine said, her mind racing, thinking back to everything she had seen, and the things she had missed.
Klaus grinned, his hand moving down to her throat, he began squeezing the air out of her.
"You can detect weaknesses like a bloodhound can sniff out a fox, so tell me, sweetheart. Is this your best guess or are you holding something back?" He asked, his fingers tightening.
She struggled, clawing at his arm, desperately trying to loosen his grip. "She's... Loyal to a fault, to those she loves, she tried to kill me in the 1800s for messing with her brothers,"
He raised an eyebrow, his face a mask of amusement, "So you think she's shifted loyalties? To whom?" He let go of her throat, and she collapsed to the ground, coughing and wheezing.
"I don't know... The only other players in town are the wolves... There's no reason for her to side with them..." She paused, her mind racing.
"There's only one other option," she said, her face contorting into a grin.
"Who?" Klaus growled, his patience was growing thin.
"Elijah.”
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You woke in a strange daze, unsure of how much time had passed. You didn't feel rested, in fact, you felt sluggish.
You sighed softly, trying to gather your strength. Your mind was slightly hazy and you felt hungover. Your limbs were not responding to your commands, causing you even more panic.
Your eyes finally opened, adjusting to the light. You were in your own bedroom, laying on your bed, the soft hum of your ceiling fan was the only thing you could hear.
You had a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you slowly looked around. There was a pile of empty blood bags on your nightstand, a cup full of vervain, and a half-empty bottle of bourbon. It was clear that someone had been here taking care of you and keeping you sedated, judging by the empty bottle it was most likely Damon.
You rolled out of bed, stumbling across the room. Your legs were weak, and you were still groggy. You managed to make it to the door and pull it open.
It was eerily quiet, the ticking clock in the hallway was pounding in your ears. You walked towards the stairs, leaning heavily against the wall, hoping to make it all the way down without falling.
As soon as you made it to the bottom, you were overcome with a wave of nausea and dizziness. You grabbed the banister, closing your eyes, waiting for the spell to pass.
Fuzzy, half formed memories came flooding back to you. Elijah was gone, your brothers had stabbed him, and then they had drugged you, so you couldn't wake him.
You remembered Damon coming into your room, holding a blood bag up to your lips, forcing you to drink.
You remembered Stefan, sitting on the edge of the bed, brushing the hair off your forehead, telling you to sleep.
You remembered Elena, cleaning your face, her voice low and gentle, she had been crying, apologizing.
Someone had carried you outside, then Elena invited you back in. The house was under her name now, a new defense measure added. You wondered who they were trying to keep out, had Klaus finally come to town? Fear suddenly gripped you... Where was everyone?
You slowly made your way to the basement door, taking the steps one at a time, trying to ignore the overwhelming need to puke.
Once you were down in the basement, you looked at Elijah's body, lying in the same position you left him. His clothes were now charred and tattered, the pillow and blanket were gone, probably burned to ash.
You moved closer, collapsing on the floor next to his body. He looked the same, gray, his eyes closed, his hair in disarray. You brushed his hair back, leaning down and kissing his forehead.
"lijah," you whispered, reaching out to hold his hand. "I know we agreed, if anything happens, we would say goodbye and walk away, but I can't, not this time. You're a part of me, I don't think you even realize how much you have come to mean to me."
You looked at the dagger in his chest, weighing the consequences of pulling it out. You didn't know what would happen if he woke up, he could rip you to shreds, or he could pull you into his arms, and hold you until you stopped crying.
There was a fifty-fifty chance he would do the latter, and that was good enough for you. Your fingers curled around the blade and you pulled it out. Then you dropped it onto the floor, letting it land with a metallic thud.
Nothing happened.
Elijah was still.
You leaned down and pressed your ear to his chest, listening.
Nothing.
"Please," you said softly, kissing his cold cheek. "Please wake up."
You returned to laying your head on his chest, your fingers curling in the fabric of his suit.
You closed your eyes, tears running down your face, holding in a breath. Waiting, waiting, waiting…
Suddenly, his heart sprung to life, beating rapidly. You sat up quickly, looking down at him, his eyes were open.
You could hardly believe it, he was looking up at the ceiling, his chest heaving, his mouth open. Then he sat up, gasping for air, looking around the basement wildly.
He was in clear agony, struggling to breathe, he looked at you with anguished eyes, the color returning to his face.
"I can't...I can't be in this house." He rushed to his feet, falling over himself, stumbling his way to the exit.
You limped out of the basement and upstairs, racing after him. The moment he got outside, he collapsed on his knees, taking in deep breaths.
You knelt in front of him, safe behind the threshold of the doorway.
"I'm so sorry," You said, your voice shaking. "I had no idea. They drugged me and I couldn't..."
"Y/n," He interrupted, his eyes finding yours, they were full of pain. "I...need a moment,"
You nodded, holding back tears that were threatening to spill. He looked awful, his clothes were ruined, and his skin was gray and dull. He was clearly starving.
You took the dagger and rolled it past the threshold, it hit his knee and he grabbed it, holding it in his hand. He glared at the blade, then looked up at you.
"Thank you," he said, his expression softening. "So much for rule three,"
"You would have done the same for me," you replied, a hint of a smile on your lips.
He slowly got to his feet, his skin still a bit gray, his face tired and worn. He held his hand out, inviting you to step over the threshold, which you did, allowing him to pull you into his arms.
You closed your eyes, enjoying the embrace, your arms wrapped around his neck, you buried your face into his shoulder.
"This is a bad idea," he said, his voice rumbling in his chest.
"I know," you said, squeezing him tightly.
He didn't respond, simply holding you against him, his breathing steadying.
"Do you want to get out of here?" You asked, looking up at him, a sad expression on his face.
"That is an excellent idea,"
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Your phone would not stop ringing.
You had been ignoring it for the last few hours. Elijah had taken you to a luxury hotel the next town over, far enough from Mystic Falls so you didn't have to worry about anyone showing up unexpectedly.
You were sitting on the bed, eating some room service, watching him try on some suits he had compelled the concierge to bring to the room.
"Who keeps calling?" Elijah asked, looking at you over his shoulder, buttoning a shirt.
"Damon and Stefan," You replied, sighing, "they are probably worried."
"Why haven't you answered?" He asked, frowning.
"Because... I'm mad at them," You admitted, picking at the food on your plate. "After what they did to me,"
"They were protecting themselves, and you," he said softly, putting his suit jacket on, and smoothing it.
You were surprised by him defending them, considering they had literally killed him.
"It doesn't matter, I can't face them right now," you said, shaking your head, "I'll just ignore their calls, it's the best I can do."
A text from Damon popped up on your screen, in full capital letters, it read:
‘WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?! ANSWER YOUR PHONE.’
You grumbled and picked your phone up, ready to block him when you got another text. This one was from Stefan:
‘Klaus is in town, in Alaric's body. Please just let us know you are okay,’
Your breath caught in your throat, and you froze, staring at the message.
Elijah had been looking at you and saw your reaction, "What's wrong?"
"I don't know, maybe nothing," you said, showing him your phone, his face darkening when he saw the texts.
He looked at you for a long moment, like he was contemplating his next words very carefully.
"What?" You asked, wondering what was going through his mind.
"We can't do this," he said, shaking his head. "It's too dangerous."
"What?" You said again, standing up and walking over to him.
You placed your hands on his chest, sliding them up to his shoulders. He was avoiding your gaze, but his arms moved around your waist, pulling you against him.
"What's wrong?" You asked, searching his face, but he still wouldn't look at you.
"Rule two, darling," he said softly, pressing his forehead to yours, his hands caressing your back.
"Don't do that," you said, your voice breaking, your chest ached, you were holding back tears. "I don't care about the rules, I just want you,"
"You don't know what you're asking for," he said, his breath hitching, his voice low. "If Klaus finds out about you and I, he will kill you,"
"Why? Why do you want to kill him? Who is he to you?" You asked, wanting answers, your hands curled into fists on his chest.
"I've known him since I was a child, he's my brother," he said, pulling back, so he could look you in the eyes.
You blinked, not believing what he was saying.
"But..." you stammered, not sure what to say.
He swallowed hard and began telling you all about his life. His family, what life was like in the viking age, being turned vampire, learning his mother had been unfaithful, that his beloved brother was a bastard.
"I never saw him any different, none of our siblings did," he said, his voice wavering.
You could tell this was a difficult subject, you squeezed his hand, reminding him that you were there.
"We learned of our mother's infidelity in the worst way possible..." He trailed off, his voice shaking.
"You don't have to," you said, scooting closer, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.
He leaned his head against yours, his fingers stroking your arm. "I've done many terrible things, but what plagues me the most is what I did to Niklaus,"
"What did you do?" You asked, lifting your head to look at him, his brown eyes were watery.
He shook his head, unable to vocalize it, and you didn't push him. You held him, waiting, knowing it would take time.
He eventually continued, his voice low, filled with shame. "My mother was a powerful witch, she cursed him. She bound his werewolf side, made him weaker, unable to turn. She used the full moon to make it possible to break the curse."
You frowned, thinking over what he was telling you. It didn't make any sense, Klaus was a vampire, not a werewolf.
"I thought..." you said, hesitating. "I thought he was a vampire,"
"He is," Elijah said, nodding, "he's also a werewolf, but that side of him bound,"
He continued his story, explaining how Klaus was different, that he was a hybrid. The first and only of his kind, half vampire, half werewolf.
He told you how Klaus was angry and resentful, and that he had good reason to be. That he and Klaus had spent many centuries trying to break his curse, to free him from his chains.
"So the ritual isn't about werewolves or vampires being freed from their curses," You said, the realization hitting you.
"No, it's not," He admitted, frowning. "It's about my brother,"
You were quiet for a long time, processing all of the information. So Klaus had no intention of freeing the werewolves or the vampires, he just wanted to be free.
"So why do you want to kill him?" You asked, looking at Elijah.
He sighed, rubbing his face, clearly struggling.
"I have other siblings, and he took them from me," He said, his tone was strained, the words catching in his throat. "I've searched for decades, and I can't find them,"
You squeezed his hand, encouraging him to continue.
"I've lost all hope of ever finding them," he said, his jaw clenching, he looked at you with his dark tear filled eyes. "All I have now is my revenge,"
You nodded, understanding where he was coming from. If you lost your brothers, you would burn the world down to avenge them.
"What is the ritual supposed to do?" You asked, curious, wanting to learn more.
"He has to kill a werewolf, a vampire, and a doppelganger. Their blood is necessary for the ritual," he explained, his fingers gently running along your arm. "When it's complete he will be weakened, then I will kill him."
"Elena is innocent... Elijah I'm sorry but you can't let him hurt her," you said, frowning.
He looked away from you, his brow furrowing, "She has to die, but not permanently,"
"What do you mean?" You asked, confused.
"A few centuries ago, there was another doppelganger, I grew some affections for her... I found a way to keep her alive," he said, his tone was flat.
"Katherine," you said, the name leaving a bad taste in your mouth.
He nodded, "I will give Elena the elixir I acquired for Katerina. It will save her,"
You let out a sigh of relief, at least Elena would be safe.
"To kill your brother, it's not an easy thing to do," You said, leaning your head against his. "Are you really prepared for what it means?"
"The full moon is in three days," He said, changing the subject, his expression was grim. "The ritual will happen then,"
"Yes," he said, without a moment of hesitation.
You sat in silence, neither of you knew what to say.
"Sometimes there's honor in revenge," he said, his hand resting on your leg. "And sometimes you just need to put down a rabid dog, no matter how much you once loved him."
"Eli-," You started, but he cut you off with a kiss, his lips crashing against yours.
You melted against him, forgetting what you were about to say. He had this way of silencing you, and it drove you crazy.
"No more talk of the ritual," he said, his fingers gently brushing over your cheek, his eyes gazing into yours. "I want to enjoy the time we have left,"
You didn't know what to say, so you nodded, and he kissed you again.
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Elijah watched you sleep, the sheet barely covering your naked body. His fingers traced patterns along your skin, his touch light as a feather.
He was trying to ignore the dread, the sinking feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach.He needed to plan, to prepare for what he had to do, but the only thing on his mind was you.
He should have known better, he was foolish to have ever gotten involved with you. When he came to Mystic Falls he told himself no weaknesses, no distractions, and yet here you were.
"Stop watching me, it's creepy," you mumbled, rolling over, the sheet falling off of you, revealing your naked form.
"Apologies," he said, unable to help the smirk that tugged at his lips.
"I forgive you, I know I'm irresistible," you said, yawning, stretching, your body arching.
He chuckled, leaning over, kissing you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours, "If I asked you to do something, would you do it?"
You gave him a curious look, your fingers tangling in his hair, "That depends,"
"Would you stay here, and not interfere with the ritual?" He asked, his brow furrowing, his tone was strained.
"Elijah-," You said, sitting up, the sheets pooling around your waist.
"Please," he begged, his eyes softening.
"But Elena-," You tried to protest, but he cut you off with a kiss, his hands cupping your face.
"Your brothers will keep her safe, but if you were involved... I would lose my mind with worry," he admitted, his eyes filled with turmoil.
"I thought this was just physical?" You teased, hoping to ease the tension.
He smiled and shook his head, his thumb caressing your cheek. "I love you," he said it so softly you barely heard it, his voice cracking.
You looked at him, searching his face for any signs of a lie, but there was none. He wasn't lying, he was telling the truth, the sincerity in his words and his eyes was evident.
Your words caught in your throat, a lump forming. You couldn't bring yourself to say it, you wanted to, but it was like there was a block.
You pressed your lips to his, your tongue sliding past his lips, kissing him deeply, trying to pour all of your emotions into it.
He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing your jaw, "Say it,"
"I can't," You whispered, your voice wavering.
He tilted your chin up, his dark eyes meeting yours. "I love you miss Salvatore, and it frightens me more than anything ever has,"
"Elijah," you said, cupping his face, your heart aching. "I... I love you too,"
He pulled you into a kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist, lifting you into his lap, your legs wrapping around his torso.
You were panting, the kiss was heated, needy, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You felt his erection against your inner thigh, hard and ready, and you ground against it.
"I love you," you repeated, his hands grabbing your ass, pulling you closer.
"I love you," he replied, his lips attacking your neck, sucking, biting, marking you as his.
You reached down, wrapping your fingers around his length, sliding your hand along his shaft, positioning him at your entrance.
You lowered yourself down, desperately needing to feel connected to him, his fingers dug into your hips as you sat fully in his lap, taking him deep inside of you.
He moaned, his eyes closing, his head tilting back, you leaned forward and kissed his neck, your fangs scraping along his skin.
You rolled your hips, slowly, taking him in and out of you, his breath hitching with each movement. You grinned against his skin, loving how you were making him react.
"That's it, take what you need," he said, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head, keeping you close to him.
"I love you," you breathed, your voice a soft whimper, as you sunk your fangs into his neck.
His blood flooded your mouth, warm and sweet, and you sucked, feeling his pulse beating against your lips. He tasted like pure power, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced.
He moaned, his fingers tangling in your hair, gripping it tight. You were riding him, moving your hips in a fluid motion, grinding down onto him, feeling his cock hit that perfect spot deep inside.
You pulled back, his blood dripping from your lips, his hands were on your ass, guiding your hips. He kissed you, biting down on your bottom lip and tasting you. Your blood mixing together, it was the most erotic thing you had ever done.
"That's my girl," he whispered, his voice ragged, his eyes dark with lust. "So beautiful, and mine,"
"Yes, all yours," you moaned, grinding down harder onto him.
You felt his hand moving between your ass cheeks, his finger finding your puckered hole, slowly pressing into you.
You gasped, your eyes fluttering closed, it felt so good, him inside of you like this.
"I want you to cum for me, my sweet little love," he said, his voice soft and gentle, his finger moving deeper.
You moaned, clutching at his chest, your nails raking along his skin, drawing blood. The combination of him filling you, his finger, and the taste of his blood in your mouth sent you over the edge.
You let out a long, low moan, against his lips, your walls clenching around him, milking him for everything he had.
He grunted, his eyes fluttering closed, he bit his lip, trying to muffle his moans, and he came deep inside of you.
Your body was trembling, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him.
You pressed your face into the crook of his neck, his skin slick with sweat, the smell of sex and blood hung heavy in the air.
You pulled back and kissed him, his hand cupping the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair.
"After this is all over, will you come with me?" He asked, his hand stroking your cheek.
"Where would we go?" You asked, smiling.
"Anywhere, preferably somewhere with a beach and sunshine," he replied, his fingers running through your hair.
"It's a date," you said, nuzzling his neck, breathing in his scent.
"A date?" He chuckled, his fingers tickling your sides, you giggled and squirmed away from him. "That's new for us,"
You grinned, looking down at him. "I like the sound of it,"
"As do I," he agreed, his hand stroking your cheek.
"When I first met you, I never would've thought we'd end up here," you mused, running your fingers along his jaw.
"Neither did I," he admitted, his lips turning up into a small smile.
"So, tell me about this beach trip, what would we do?" You asked, wanting to keep him talking, not wanting to leave his side.
"Hmmm," he said, thinking for a moment. "I would find us a quiet little bungalow, right on the water, with a private stretch of sand for us,"
You closed your eyes, listening to the smooth timber of his voice, imagining the soft waves and fresh ocean air.
"And we'd have our meals brought in by servants, we'd lounge on the beach, swim, and make love whenever the mood struck us," he said, his fingers dancing across your back.
"I could live with that," you said, sighing contently, enjoying his warmth.
"I'm glad," he said, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, a soft, gentle kiss.
You broke the kiss and stared into his dark eyes, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip.
"If anything happens to me I want you to know, I don't regret a single second of it," he said, his voice soft.
"What?" You asked, giving him a worried look.
"You need to know, in case I fail, and my brother ends me before I can end him," he said, his face serious, his eyes clouded with fear.
"Elijah-," you started to protest, but he cut you off.
"Promise me," he said, his voice pleading. "If this ends badly, you will remember rule three,"
"I thought we had given up on the rules," you said, trying not to let him see how afraid you were.
"Not this one," he said, his voice cracking.
"Why? You can't seriously expect me to-"
"Please," he said, his dark eyes locked on yours. "For me,"
You sighed and nodded, leaning into him, his arms wrapping around you.
"Thank you," he whispered, his fingers stroking your back, his lips brushing against your hair.
"Just come back to me," you said, trying not to cry.
"Always,”
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The problem, Damon: you talk a good game but you don't actually know anything. She'll never forgive you. And never for a vampire...It's a very long time.
Elijah's words had been echoing around in Damon's head since that morning, the smugness in the older vampire's voice made him want to put his fist through the wall.
He had made a mess of things, but he couldn't admit that to anyone. The feeling he had when he learned that today was the day of the sacrifice, the day that he would lose Elena... He simply couldn't handle it. His desire for action was overwhelming.
He didn't like everything being out of his control, so he did what he had to do. And now his brother and Elena hated him. Elijah being right was the cherry on top of his shit sundae. 
In times like this, when he hit rock bottom then fell a little further, he turned to his oldest friend, his closest confidant, his beloved sister. 
But you weren't picking up the phone, despite Elijah's assurances you were alive and somewhere safe, it didn't soothe his worries.
So he tried one last time, and this time you actually picked up, and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he heard your voice.
"If you are calling to lecture me on love, I will remind you that you are no better," your voice made his throat constrict.
"I know, I'm not," he said, his voice sounding strange to his own ears.
"Are you okay?" You asked, a little softer.
"No," he answered, his voice shaking.
"What happened?" You asked, concern creeping into your tone.
"Everything's gone to hell," he replied, his voice strained. "I gave Elena my blood... Well actually I made her drink my blood,"
"Oh Damon..."
"I had no other choice,"
"She's going to hate you,"
"I know, Elijah told me,"
"Damon... He's right,"
"I know that too,"
There was a silence on the other end of the phone, he could hear you moving around, like you were packing a bag.
"I'm on my way," you said, finally. "Partly to kick your ass, partly to give you a hug,"
"Always the multitasker," he joked, his voice cracking. "But do not come home tonight, I just need to know you are safe,"
"I'll do what I want," you said, and he could almost see the pout on your lips.
He smiled, he had missed your stubbornness, and it was the closest thing to normal he had felt all day. But he couldn't risk you being involved, everyone was already in the crossfire, and the thought of you being added to that mix was too much for him to bear.
"Sister," he said, his voice firm. "Please, please, listen to me, just this once, and stay away,"
You let out a long, irritated sigh, "I'm so bored, and I'm getting hungry,"
"Well then go find someone nice to eat and watch a movie," he suggested, chuckling.
"I can't concentrate, not when everyone I love is in danger," you grumbled.
"Does that love extend to Elijah?" He asked, trying to keep his voice even.
"Yes," you said simply, and his heart ached.
He had known, of course, but hearing you say it aloud made it real.
"Why him? Like seriously..." Damon asked, he was genuinely curious, and he needed something to distract him from the shit show he had gotten himself into. "How did you even meet him?"
"I was hunting," you answered, sounding amused. "He found my methods to be entertaining, and I found him to be a challenge,"
"Did you know who he was? What he planned for Elena?" Damon asked, trying not to sound judgemental.
"Yes, I knew who he was. But we had rules, to keep things from getting complicated," you explained.
"That didn't really work out did it?" He teased, smiling.
"No," you admitted, laughing.
There was a long pause, and he could feel his emotions starting to get the best of him.
"Damon, promise me you won't die for her?" You asked, your voice wavering.
"You know I can't do that," he said, his voice low.
"I know," you whispered. "Just please, try to survive this,"
"I'll do my best," he promised, knowing he couldn't really promise anything.
"I love you big brother," you said, and his eyes started to water. "Tell Stefan I love him too,"
"I will, I love you too," he choked out, and he heard the line go dead.
Damon stared at his phone, the picture of you, him and Stefan was staring back at him, his heart aching.
"I hope I see you tomorrow, little sis,"
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The town you were hiding out in was quiet and a little boring, but you didn't mind. It was the first time in a long time you had had a few days to yourself, no drama, no life or death situations. Just perfect mundanity.
You were lounging in a café, enjoying a cup of coffee, and watching the locals, wondering what their lives were like. You envied them, their simplicity, their happiness. You imagined you and Elijah in a little house, in a place like this, with a garden and a view of the ocean.
You were lost in your own world, dreaming about the impossible, when someone cleared their throat. You looked up, a smile playing at your lips. Dinner had just arrived. 
He was handsome, with curly hair and blue eyes, he had a sharp wicked glint in his eyes that sent a thrill through you. You always enjoyed a good meal with a bit of bite.
"Mind if I sit?" He asked, grinning.
"Not at all," you purred, gesturing to the chair.
He sat, and ordered a coffee, and he turned his attention back to you.
"I don't mean to be so forward, but you are downright striking," he said, his gaze running over your body.
"Thank you," you said, giving him a flirty smile. "It's a bit of a family trait,"
"Is that so? Mine as well, if you can't tell," he said, smiling.
You laughed, enjoying his company.
"You aren't from around here," he observed, sipping his coffee.
"Neither are you," you said, tilting your head.
"I'm just visiting, on vacation," he replied, grinning.
"Same,"
He was charming, and handsome, and you could feel the hunger starting to rise within you.
"I'm staying at the Inn down the street," he said, giving you a hopeful look.
"I'm staying there as well,"
"Well then, may I escort you home?"
"You may,"
The walk back to the Inn was short, you enjoyed his company, he was easy to talk to, and funny.
"Would you like a nightcap?" He asked, flashing you a crooked smile.
"That would be lovely," you said, grinning.
His hand came to rest on the small of your back, guiding you into the room. You usually enjoyed playing with your food a little before you ate, but you were committed to Elijah now, and you didn't want to stray.
As soon as you entered his room, he pinned you to the wall, moving in to kiss you. You politely dodged by pressing your lips to his neck, breathing him in.
"You are a vision," he said, his hand sliding up your arm, and into your hair.
"Thank you," you murmured, your fangs grazing his skin, his pulse racing beneath your lips.
He moaned, and gripped your waist, pressing his hips against yours. You could feel him, hard against your thigh, and you went to bite down.
Suddenly, he pulled your head back by your hair, hard. With strength you hadn't expected, he forced you back, pushing you hard into the wall, the plaster cracking behind you.
"I see why my brother is so taken," he growled, his eyes darkening.
Your heart dropped into your stomach, "Klaus,"
"The one and only, love," he said, smirking.
You tried to pull away, but his grip on you was too strong.
"Don't worry, love," he purred, his hand stroking your cheek. "I won't hurt you,"
"Fuck you," you said, glaring at him.
He smirked, and kissed you, hard, his teeth cutting into your lips.
"You're a feisty little thing," he said, licking his lips. "Even wilder than your brothers,"
You hissed and tried to struggle, his hands tightening around your arms, digging into your skin. "If you hurt them..."
"Now, now," he said, tutting. "Let's not make threats, especially when you can't back them up,"
You bared your fangs at him, but he only grinned.
"I've been wanting to meet you," he said, his thumb brushing across your cheek. "Elijah's little distraction,"
"I'm more than a distraction," you growled, struggling against his hold.
"Hmmm," he hummed, leaning in and nuzzling your neck. "I know,"
You were too frightened to speak, your whole body trembling.
"It's what I'm counting on dear,"
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Klaus had been dragging you through the woods for what felt like hours.
Your fear had turned into anger and you began to try and fight him. It seemed to amuse him for a while, he'd let you run only to catch you with ease.
"Why are you doing this?" You growled, his hand holding your arm tightly, leading you through the trees.
"To be reborn, as I truly am," he said, his expression thoughtful.
You rolled your eyes and let out an annoyed sigh, he was a narcissist, the kind of man who enjoyed the sound of his own voice.
"Do you know how long I've waited for this?" He asked, looking down at you. "One thousand years,"
 "I know," you sighed.
"Of course you do," he said, smirking. "Elijah loves to spill his heart out after a good bedding doesn't he?"
You didn't answer him, he was trying to get under your skin, and it was working.
"My brother has always been the strong, self righteous type, with an unbreakable moral code," Klaus chuckled, picking up his pace, dragging you along. "That is... Until he gets his face between a pretty pair of legs,"
"Fuck you," you spat, anger boiling up inside of you.
"You have a smart mouth," he said, his fingers squeezing your arm. "I think I'll like to see how you use it later,"
You freed yourself from his grip and slapped him hard across the face. No man was allowed to speak to you in that way, and you certainly weren't going to tolerate it from this monster.
His expression changed from amusement to anger in the blink of an eye. He slammed you against a nearby tree, the twigs and branches impaling you.
You cried out, blood pouring from the puncture wounds, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look him in the eye.
 "That was very, very stupid,"
His words sent a chill down your spine, and a fresh wave of fear washed over you.
"What's the matter?" He asked, his tone taunting. "No more choice words and acts of violence for me?"
"Don't kill me," you said, tears starting to run down your cheeks.
"I won't," he assured you, his lips brushing against yours. "But I will kill everyone in Mystic Falls if you don't do what I say. If you don't believe me... Just ask sweet little Katerina about it,"
Your blood ran cold, you knew what he was capable of, and you had no choice but to obey him.
Through the trees you could see a circle of fire, and you felt dread sink into the pit of your stomach.
"No," you pleaded, trying to pull away.
"Stop being so dramatic, love," he said, rolling his eyes.
He pulled you into the clearing, throwing you down on the ground next to the three women sitting in their own rings of fire.
You could see Elena, a terrified look on her face, along with her aunt Jenna and a woman you didn't recognize.
"Hello my lovelies," Klaus said, grinning. "Are we all ready?"
He gave you a swift kick, then grabbed you by the hair and pulled you to your feet. "I brought an assistant with me,"
He pushed you forward, leaving you to stand there as he walked to the altar, handing the moonstone to a witch standing nearby.
You looked at Elena and Jenna, they were beyond scared, their eyes full of tears, and you felt your stomach twist, you didn't know how to help them.
The witch had begun to chant, a mixture of Latin and something else, the moonstone began to spark, then it exploded into nothing.
"Bring me the wolf," Klaus demanded, looking at you with a wild, manic look in his eyes.
You shook your head, your whole body trembling, you refused to let him hurt someone else.
"It's either them or the entire town, love. That includes your brothers," he growled, his jaw clenched.
The thought of losing Stefan and Damon made your stomach clench, and tears started to run down your face.
"Bring her. Now," he growled, his tone brokering no argument.
You walked towards the first ring of fire, to the terrified woman who was writhing in pain, her cries echoing through the trees.
The ring disappeared as you approached, and you lifted the girl into your arms. She was whimpering and shaking, the transition having begun.
"I'm so sorry," you whispered, carrying her to the altar.
"Good girl," Klaus hummed, taking the wolf from your arms, and laying her on the stone.
Klaus kneeled over her, looking down at her with an evil grin, his eyes were filled with a mix of desire and madness, and he plunged his hand into her chest, ripping her heart out.
Jenna and Elena screamed, watching Klaus hold up the wolf's heart, his expression triumphant.
"I'll make it quick, I promise," Klaus said, grinning. "They will barely feel a thing,"
You looked over at Elena and Jenna, their screams piercing the air, the witches chanting growing louder.
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Elijah was looking up at the night sky, watching the moon slowly make its way across, his thoughts on you. He couldn't stop thinking about your smile, and the way your eyes lit up whenever you saw him.
If tonight went smoothly, he had so many plans with you, the first was taking you to Paris, a city that was sure to dazzle you. After that he would whisk you away to Rome, where you could visit the many art museums and eat all the food you wanted.
He wanted to spoil you, shower you with everything you could ever want, and then some. It had been nearly sixty years of searching for his brother, trying to uncover the rest of his family. He felt like tonight was the first chance he had to truly mourn, then he could finally move on and spend the rest of his time with you. 
He had spoken with Stefan earlier, before he left with Bonnie to go stop Klaus. He liked Stefan, he was an honorable man who respected the choices of the ones he loved, even if he didn't agree with them.
Elijah hoped he and Stefan could be friends one day, once everything settled down, he knew that would make you happy. To see peace between him and your brothers. Damon would be a more difficult task, he reminded him of Klaus, cocky and impulsive, and that was a difficult combination.
The waiting was beginning to make him antsy. He had to wait for the right moment to strike, but there were so many factors outside of his control, he didn't like the feeling. He needed to distract himself, keep his mind from wandering too far.
He thought about his siblings, of sweet Rebekah, wild Kol, and serious Finn. What would they think of him killing Klaus? He wished he could have saved them, he wanted so badly to see them again.
He let out a long sigh, steeling himself for what he had to do. Klaus was no longer his brother, he had been twisted into a monster, and he had to be put down.
It was time, he could see the moon hanging high above him, it was time to end this. 
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You watched Klaus squeeze the wolf's heart over the altar, the blood dripping into the fire, igniting it.
"Next, the vampire," he said, grinning.
You stood, frozen, watching him, as a wave of guilt crashed over you.
"Bring me Jenna, go on,"
You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes.
"No," you said in the smallest voice. 
You could hear Jenna and Elena, talking to each other, they were saying their goodbyes and it broke your heart.
Klaus turned, and walked over to you, his eyes were dark and cold, and his jaw was clenched.
"Are you offering yourself in her place then?" He growled, his hand coming up to grab your chin.
You didn't answer him, you were staring over his shoulder at Jenna and Elena.
"I'll take that as a yes,"
You let him drag you to the altar, and push you down onto the cold stone, he forced you to kneel. You didn't fight him, you had lived for many decades longer than sweet Jenna and Elena, the old should always give their lives for the young.
Klaus let out a hearty chuckle and kicked you over, his hand gripping your hair.
"I don't recall you being on the guest list," Klaus yelled, looking into the dark forest. 
You heard the sound of footsteps as someone approached, it was Stefan. His expression was calm, but his eyes were furious.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Salvatore?" Klaus asked, amused.
Stefan looked at you, a concerned look on his face.
"Well, I figured you could start by letting my sister go," Stefan said, his voice firm.
"Hmm," Klaus said, looking down at you. "I don't think I will, she's quite the little spitfire, and I rather enjoy her company,"
"Let her go, I'll take her place," Stefan offered, taking a step forward.
"That's quite noble of you," Klaus said, smiling. "But, I think I'd prefer my original plan. I rather appreciate the symmetry of three women...Three goddesses sacrificed at nature's altar."
He grabbed both you and Stefan and dragged you towards the rings of fire. Throwing you both down next to Elena and Jenna. 
"Quite the predicament. You know, it's funny, all this talk about preserving family, and here's Stefan, granting your wish," Klaus said to Elena, smiling.
Stefan and Elena were looking at each other, a silent conversation passing between them.
"Oh, don't look so glum," Klaus said, looking between the two. "There's actually no choice,"
Klaus took a stake and plunged it into Stefan's spine, causing him to yell in pain, unable to move.
You and Elena both screamed, you got to your feet to strike Klaus, but he grabbed you by the throat, squeezing hard.
"Let them go," Elena pleaded, tears running down her cheeks. "I understand that I have to die, but they don't,"
Klaus ignored her and looked into your eyes, his hand tightening around your neck.
"Bring Jenna to the altar, or I'll kill Stefan," he growled, his fingers digging into your skin.
You nodded, tears welling in your eyes, you couldn't lose Stefan.
"Please," you whispered, your hands clawing at his.
He let you go, then walked back to the altar.
"Bring her, now," he ordered, pointing at the ring of fire surrounding Jenna.
You stood, walking slowly over to the fire, the ring disappeared and Jenna looked up at you with tear filled eyes. She looked so afraid, so helpless.
"I'm so sorry," you said, your voice breaking, as you helped her to her feet.
You walked her over to the altar, Klaus waiting patiently.
"Jenna, I'm so sorry," you whispered, your hand brushing the hair from her face.
She was sobbing, her body shaking, and you held her close, stroking her hair.
"Please Klaus, just use me instead, she's innocent," you begged, tears running down your face.
"You Salvatore's are so predictable," Klaus sighed, rolling his eyes.
Klaus walked over, and pulled Jenna from your arms, he threw her down onto the altar. Everything seemed to blur, you could hear Elena screaming, the chants of the witch, the cracking of the fire. You saw Stefan reaching out to Elena through the flames, and then, it was quiet.
Klaus plunged a stake into her heart, Elena's wails were all you could hear. Jenna's lifeless body was lying on the altar, her face frozen in fear. You had brought her to her slaughter. You had killed her.
"Such a wonderful assistant," Klaus cooed, he grabbed your chin, his bloody fingers digging into your skin. "Be a good girl and bring me the doppelganger,"
You looked into his cold eyes, his mouth twisted into a smirk.
"Now," he growled.
You nodded, then walked over to Elena, tears were running down her cheeks, but she put on a brave face as the last ring of fire disappeared.
"Elena," you whispered, tears welling in your eyes, your whole body was shaking. "I'm so, so sorry,"
"Don't," she said, her voice shaky. "It's not your fault. It's nice to have a friend here at the end,"
She held your hand as you helped her walk over to Klaus. You looked at Stefan, he was struggling to free himself, his eyes filled with worry.
"Elena," Stefan called, his voice breaking.
"It's okay, Stefan," she said, her grip on your hand tightening. "I'm ready,"
You helped her up onto the altar, and Klaus looked down at her with hungry eyes.
"Thank you Elena," he said softly, pulling her against him and moving her hair away from her neck.
"Go to hell," she said, her voice strong.
He chuckled and sank his fangs into her neck.
Elena didn't fight, she let death take her, her grip loosening on your hand, as her last breath left her.
You were shaking, the sound of Klaus drinking from her filling the silence. You had lost two friends today, and the world was suddenly a lot emptier.
When the last bit of blood left her body, Klaus dropped her to the ground and the fire in the altar went out.
You knelt next to her, brushing her hair away from her face, then you looked back at Stefan who was writhing in pain, crying at the loss of Elena.
Klaus staggered a bit, the full moon peeking out from the trees. He groaned, and started to change, his bones cracking as he stumbled forward, his expression a mask of pure bliss.
"It's happening," he moaned, his eyes turned gold, and he was overcome with pleasure. "I can feel it,"
You couldn't stand this any long, all this pain and death. You needed it to end.
You moved down the steps towards him, grabbing a branch off a nearby tree, snapping it in half.
"Come on, sweetheart," he taunted, turning to look at you, his eyes shining. "I'm indestructible,"
"I don't care," you snarled, lunging for him. "You still feel pain,"
You charged at him, striking him across the face, your rage blinding you, making you miss his fist, as it collided with your stomach.
The blow threw you across the clearing, and you landed on your back, the air leaving your lungs, the branch now lodged in your side. 
You saw Damon come running out of the woods, he first looked to Elena, then to Stefan, but when he laid eyes on you, he ran to your side.
"No, no, no, no," he said, his eyes filled with panic, he pulled the wood from your side. "You're not supposed to be here,"
You could hear the concern in his voice, and you smiled up at him, cupping his face. He helped you to your feet, your wounds healing, then he pushed you behind him.
"Damon," you said softly, trying to stop him.
"Bonnie is here, it's okay, let me handle this," he said, his tone stern.
Klaus was standing there, laughing maniacally, a mad grin on his face, then his body began to shake and he fell to the ground.
Suddenly his laughter turned to screams, as Bonnie came striding out of the trees, chanting a spell, she raised her hand, causing Klaus to scream in agony. The fire returned to the altar and spread into the trees, her magic all around them as she channeled every ounce of power she possessed, bringing the hybrid to his knees.
Then she choked on her words, gasping for air, looking around for the source.
"Get the witch!" Stefan yelled, pointing to Klaus' witch, still standing at the altar, her hand outstretched.
Bonnie raised her hands, trying to focus her power, but she was struggling, and you could see the strain on her face.
The witch threw Bonnie into the air, knocking her out, her body hitting the ground.
Damon ran for the witch, and tackled her, his teeth sinking into her neck. He killed her instantly, her body going limp in his arms.
The fire disappeared, the flames extinguishing, the magic disappearing. A deadly quiet settling over everything.
Suddenly, you felt a hand in your hair, dragging you backwards, the pain making you scream.
"Elijah!" Klaus roared into the woods, "I know you are out there, show yourself!"
You saw Elijah walk out of the trees, and into the clearing, his expression unreadable, but his eyes were locked on yours.
Klaus's fingers dug into your scalp, and he pulled harder, forcing you to your knees between them.
"What a sight," Klaus mocked, grinning at Elijah.
"Hello, brother," Elijah said, his eyes still locked on yours.
"You've come to kill me?" Klaus said, chuckling. "How is that working out for you?"
He pulled you back to your feet, your whole body trembling.
"Actually, I've come to make you an offer," Elijah said, taking a step closer, his hands clasped behind his back.
"Oh," Klaus said, amused. "An offer, I wonder what that might be,"
"Spare them, and I will pledge my loyalty to you," Elijah said, his voice soft, his eyes never leaving yours.
"You're lying," Klaus growled, his hand wrapping around your throat, his fangs grazing your skin. "You're only offering yourself, so I won't kill her. That's not true loyalty,"
You saw Damon lift Elena's body into his arms, carrying her to Stefan. Then he pulled the stake out of Stefan's back, allowing him to move again.
"Elijah," Stefan called, his voice shaky. "You need to finish this,"
"I can't," he said, shaking his head. "Klaus will kill her,"
Damon rushed to Bonnie's side, trying to wake her up, and Klaus laughed, his lips pressed against your ear.
"Run to your love, if you make it I'll let you live," he whispered, shoving you forward.
You stumbled, your legs barely able to support you, then you started running towards Elijah, tears streaming down your face.
You made it to him, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, he was murmuring soft words into your ear, his breath tickling your skin. And you finally felt safe again.
"Are you okay?" He asked, pulling away to look at you, his fingers brushing the hair from your face.
"Yes," you said softly, your hand gripping his jacket.
You were staring up at him, his brown eyes were warm and full of worry, and you had forgotten how much you missed him.
"Good," he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours.
Your lips met his at the same time you felt something strange in your back. An odd pressure that made you gasp into his mouth.
You pulled away from Elijah, there was a strange look on his face, his mouth falling open, and he looked down at you, a look of pure terror in his eyes.
For the first time in centuries, you felt cold, the world was spinning around you. You knew what was happening, 
Your hand pressed against his chest, you could feel his heart beating against your palm. You looked up into his brown eyes one last time.
"Rule three, my love," you whispered, before your life faded away, and your body fell against him.
Elijah looked down at you, your skin rapidly turning gray, your eyes vacant. Then he looked up at Klaus, who held your heart in his hands.
"This is for betraying me," Klaus said, dropping the organ at his feet, the blood running down the stone steps.
Elijah stood there, his arms wrapped around your lifeless body, his whole world was crumbling.
He could hear Stefan and Damon screaming, but it sounded far away, the own beating of his heart drowning out the rest.
Klaus grabbed Elijah by the neck, forcing him to drop your body, and shoved him to the ground.
"Look at her, the way she's staring up at the stars, it's quite beautiful, isn't it?" Klaus mocked, as Elijah watched you, lifeless on the cold stone. "And it's all because of you,"
Elijah looked away, a tear falling down his cheek, his brother's words cutting into him.
"You're pathetic," Klaus hissed, his hands gripping Elijah's jacket, your blood staining the fabric. "To think you could beat me,"
Elijah closed his eyes, trying to block out his brother's words, but it was no use, his mind was replaying every moment with you. Knowing he would never taste your lips again, or hear your laugh. You would never fall asleep in his arms.
He looked over at Damon, who had rushed to your body. He was holding you, rocking you back and forth in his arms, with Stefan by his side, his face stained with tears, a look of anguish on his face.
Elijah's world was fading away, as he was overcome with rage and anguish, a darkness consuming him, and Klaus just kept talking, his voice becoming more and more distant. 
Then something within him snapped, a creature that was lurking underneath his skin came bursting through, a monster taking the place of the gentleman.
He turned his attention back to his brother, and Klaus froze, the fear clear in his eyes.
Damon watched as Elijah pushed Klaus backwards, causing him to fly across the clearing, skidding along the dirt, landing a few feet away.
Elijah walked in a slow, deliberate pace towards Klaus , his expression devoid of any emotion.
"You're right, Klaus," Elijah said, a cold smile spreading across his face. "We are not the same,"
Klaus tried to stand, but Elijah shoved him back down, he grabbed Klaus leg and twisted it until it snapped. Klaus howled in agony, and Elijah smiled, twisting the other leg, and his brother's screams were echoing through the night.
"You want to be a beast?" Elijah growled, pulling Klaus into the air by his neck, his hands wrapped around his throat. "Let me help you,"
Damon felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Bonnie was standing there, her eyes full of sorrow.
"Damon," she whispered, tears running down her face.
"Go, help Elijah," he said, his voice hollow. "I'll stay here with her,"
Bonnie nodded, she stood up, her body trembling. Stefan jumped to his feet to help her stay upright, and she began to chant once more. 
The altar burst into flames for a third time, illuminating Klaus and Elijah in a ring of fire as they struggled against each other.
"What is this?" Klaus yelled, pushing Elijah away, trying to fight the pain. "What have you done?"
"Something that should have been done centuries ago," Elijah growled, rushing towards his brother, knocking him down, pinning him to the dirt, his hand raised.
"In the name of our family, Niklaus...," Elijah said, plunging his hand into his brother's chest, curing his fingers around Klaus's heart. "In the name of her..."
"I didn't bury them at sea!" Klaus yelled, his hand trying to pry Elijah's away. "They are safe, I swear,"
Elijah looked at him, a flicker of hope in his eyes.
"I can take you to them," Klaus pleaded, his hands gripping Elijah's wrist. “Their bodies are safe. If you kill me, you'll never find them,”
"Elijah, don't listen to him," Stefan yelled, walking towards them.
"Brother, please," Klaus begged. "She wouldn't want this, please,"
Your beautiful face flashed through Elijah's mind, and he looked back at Damon, who was kneeling there, tears in his eyes, clutching your body.
"You're wrong, Klaus," Elijah growled, his hand squeezing the organ in his grip. "She would want this,"
Then he tore Klaus's heart from his chest, and watched the life fade from his brother's eyes.
Klaus's body dropped to the ground, his heart still beating in Elijah's hand, and the flames died down, leaving the clearing in silence. 
Bonnie walked up to him, looking down at the flames. 
"Good," She said, her voice hoarse.
Elijah looked back at Stefan and Damon, they were kneeling next to your body, Stefan's hand caressing your cheek. 
Elijah rushed over to you, looking down at your peaceful face, you almost looked like you were sleeping.
Elijah brushed the hair from your face, his hands were shaking. He couldn't understand how something so beautiful could be snuffed out so easily.
"Don't touch her," Damon said, pulling you away from Elijah.
"You did this," Damon snapped, glaring at Elijah. "It's your fault she's dead,"
Elijah nodded and stepped away, Damon was right, it was his fault.
"Damon," Stefan said, reaching for his brother.
"No, he has to answer for this," Damon said, getting to his feet, your body in his arms.
"It's over Damon," Bonnie said softly, looking up at him. "It's over,"
Damon looked down at you, and tears started to stream down his cheeks. He was shaking, and Stefan reached for him, the two of them clinging to each other, your body between them.
"I think it's best you leave," Bonnie said, her eyes filled with sadness. "Please, go,"
Elijah nodded, his heart breaking as he looked down at your lifeless form, knowing this was his fault.
"Where will you go?" Stefan asked, as he wiped his eyes.
"I need to find my siblings," he said softly, looking away from the sight. "With Klaus dead, everyone he compelled will be free, I'll follow the clues they left behind,"
He looked back at you, and his heart shattered.
"Will you be okay?" Stefan asked, his hand on Elijah's shoulder.
"One day," he replied, turning to look at him, a small smile on his face.
"Thank you," Stefan said softly.
Elijah gave them a small nod, then disappeared into the trees, heading far away from Mystic Falls. His heart forever bound to yours. 
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~Epilogue
Time changes all things, this was something Damon had the basics of understanding, but nothing could prepare him for how it would affect him when he became human again.
He was an old man, something he never expected to experience, and yet there he was.
"Are you ready?" Elena asked, her hand on his arm.
"Always," he answered, his voice weak, but his smile was genuine.
She leaned in and kissed his cheek, her eyes still as bright and beautiful as the day he met her.
The walk to the Salvatore family crypt was slow, and the pain in his joints was unbearable. He hated getting old.
They entered the stone building, and Damon let go of Elena's arm, making his way over to your stone. He placed his hand on it, the smoothness soothing his calloused hand.
"Hi sis," he said, smiling down at the stone. "It's been a while, i've been so busy,"
He took a seat in the chair next to your grave, he had brought it decades ago. He was a man who liked his comfort, and he spent hours talking to you, catching you up on everything that had happened since the last time he was there.
"I have grandkids now! Can you believe it? They are the cutest, I even named a boy after you, well, the closest we could come, but, yeah," he said, a wide grin on his face.
Damon looked over at Elena, who was laying flowers at Stefan's grave. She was the only one left, and he was so grateful for her.
"I miss you and Stefan so much," Damon said softly. "But it won't be long now until I see you again,"
There was an awkward cough and Damon looked up to see a delivery boy standing in the doorway, looking uncomfortable.
"I have a delivery for Miss Y/n Salvatore," he said, walking up to him, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.
"She's not exactly up for company," Damon said with a chuckle, gesturing to your stone.
"I know, this actually isn't my first time doing this," he said, a smile spreading across his face. "Actually, the guy who use to deliver along this route said that he's been delivering here once a week for his entire fourty year career,"
Damon stood up slowly, his bones protesting the movement. He held his hand out and the boy handed him the flowers.
"Thanks, kid," Damon said, sitting back down, there was a note tucked in with the flowers.
The boy gave him a little wave before disappearing.
Elena came to sit next to him, her hand on his knee, she gave him a sad smile. "What does it say?"
Damon pulled out his glasses, and read it out loud, a tear rolling down his cheek.
For a thousand years, I had never known love, until you, and for a thousand more, I will wait for you. 
-Elijah
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Rule one: When we are together, it will just be us, no one will know.
Rule two: No talk of business or family, don't get personal.
Rule three: When it's over, it's over.
{Part One} {Part Two}{Part Three} {Part Four}
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡~LOVE YOU GUYS
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arlertwhore · 3 months
Text
draft #1: sneaky link series, pt. 7
completed draft - not a part, a draft - meaning there is technically no pt 7. i have no issues with people taking it as pt 7though.
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pairing: paige bueckers x fem! “sneaky link” reader.
warning(s): angsty, argument / breakup, fluff, smut, scissoring, pussy eating, fingering, spitting, hair-pulling, unedited.
synopsis: Despite your admission of feelings, Paige still wants to keep you as her secret. However, as the threat of discovery looms and you grow close with someone else, she jealously realizes she doesn't want anyone to think you don't belong to her. Even if you remain a secret, you are undeniably hers.
word count: 7.1k (what happens when ana's creativity fights to not fight)
Author Note: first ever draft i'm dropping AH! i'm so weirded out that i'm leaving this series unfinished (for now) and posting something this trash, but i think its what best for me. like i said, this isn't an official pt . 7, it's just a draft, but i have no issue if i get an inbox we can talk about like its an off pt 7 yk?? you guys are also so free to leave ideas for pt. 8 and 7 in my dms, inbox, etc.. so if i return i can get back into the groove!
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Paige, after a week of ghosting, suddenly texts: "Good News", and despite being frustrated with her, you're desperate for a study break in studying for your last exam of the year and some positivity, so you quickly respond: "?"
She tells you her old friend from Minnesota, Serena, is in town for the week at a hotel while her soccer team plays Connecticut, and she's allowing Paige to use the hotel room while she's away due to her losing a bet.
You respond with a terse "Cool", and Paige's response hangs in the air, marked by those ominous three dots. After an agonizing pause, her next text arrives: "See you by tomorrow night?"
And although you're betraying every emotion you've had at the frustration of paige ghosting you the whole week, you say, "yeah."
You felt like a total idiot for believing that perhaps now that she'd confessed, Paige would stop running from it. You should've been wiser, given your history with Paige, but the thrilling days that followed your vulnerable confession of feelings deceived you. They were a dizzying whirlwind of happiness, lulling you into a false sense of security, and masking the reality of her true intentions.
You and Paige had a fast romance, resembling a newlywed couple's bliss. You strolled hand-in-hand through the neighborhood, enjoyed family movie nights, and explored the mall together. She even surprised you with intimate gifts, like delicate lingerie, which she eagerly removed in the privacy of your bedroom. Those days were filled with laughter, love, and a sense of security, free from the fear of rejection that once plagued you. Your connection deepened so much that Paige even let you take her with her strap, a thrilling milestone in your relationship.
The experience was magical, but as the school week began, reality hit hard, and Paige, as she always did, resumed the cycle. She seemed to have perfected the art of creating distance. Her texts became short and infrequent, she stopped answering your calls, and just ghosted you.
You were crushed: you made it clear on the week she did ghost you that you hated when she did that, and the fact she ignored your pleas and chose to cowardly avoid everything was heartbreaking. But at least you had your new roommate, Maggie, to distract you. After growing up with a wayward sister, Maggie was your first taste of what a healthy sibling relationship could be like. She was everything you weren’t—energetic, popular, outgoing, and the life of every party—your polar opposite, and her presence brought a refreshing contrast to your life.
She filled your evenings with wild stories of campus drama and an endless supply of party interesting anecdotes. And also, piping hot gossip that you were more than amused by until one night, when Maggie stumbled into your room back from a party, reeking of alcohol and giggling uncontrollably.
"Paige Bueckers, aka Ms. Hollywood, is allegedly hooking up with some mysterious girl on campus who claims to be straight."
Your heart skipped a beat: you had never claimed to straight before. 
And also, both of your entire life's focus had been on your careers, and this rumor had potentially to be extremely damaging to your professional prospects. Especially for you — you had worked tirelessly to build a respectable image, and the thought of being linked to Paige's scandalous behavior was daunting.
You played it cool, dismissing the rumor with a nonchalant laugh: "Oh, really? People say crazy things." But inside, you were turmoil-stricken, unable to reveal the truth to Maggie due to Paige's strict secrecy and dislike of her for being a blabbermouth.
Maggie shrugged, "Well, Paige is in trouble; social media's onto her, and they're searching for her mystery girl. Apparently, they even go clubbing together." Your heart sank, knowing this was all too true. As exams approached, you pushed aside the rumors and pretended to be too busy to care, all while secretly suffering in silence, worried about the potential fallout on your career.
So, when you pulled up to "Serena's" hotel the next day, really Paige's place, you were exhausted, beaten down by her behavior, the looming rumors, and the fact that you had probably bombed your exam that night. You couldn't have been acting more out of character, bursting through the hotel door and pushing past Paige, who stood awaiting your acknowledgment in the foyer.
"Is there anything to drink? Maggie drank every last drop of alcohol in the house." you called out, voice laced with desperation and a hint of frustration, as if the scarcity of alcohol was the final straw in a long series of disappointments.
"Me?" she whispered softly as she crept up behind you in the kitchen, wrapping her arms around your waist with a gentle kiss to your neck. "Or Rose. In the fridge. You're lucky S I'm sharin'; S got it for us tonight." The warmth of her embrace and the sweetness of her kiss sent a buzz down your spine, momentarily distracting you from the fact she was everything wrong these days too.
"Oh, is that why you've been ignoring me? For Rose, Serena —because Paige, if we're being honest," you said, pulling away from her and striding over to the fridge to grab the coveted bottle, "I don't like sharing either."
There's a tense and awkward momentary silence as you stretch to reach the glass from up-top the shelf, and Paige approaches, her hand resting on your lower back, and her breath on your scalp. "We've both been busy - I'm not ignoring you, alright?" she says in a low, defensive murmur, her gentle touch sparking a flutter in your chest, making it hard to maintain your frustration.
Together, you manage to retrieve the glasses, but her gentle gesture  has already disarmed you, and the tension between you shifts, your  defenses slowly dropping, a fragile facade crumbling under the weight of her.
"I miss you even when we're together." you admit, looking up at her with a vulnerable gaze, your eyes locking onto hers as you bare your soul, the weight of your words conveying the constant fear of losing her, the ache of knowing that external pressures and expectations can tear you apart at any moment, and the desperation to hold on to her, even when she's right in front of you.
"I've had the worst fucking week, and- I spent most of my time in bed and not studying, thinking about why I could make you confess, but not... not stay with me." The pain in your voice as you reveal the turmoil that's been consuming you, and the desperate desire for her presence in your life is felt mutually.
"Okay," you whisper shakily, feeling tears prick at the way Paige looks at you, mutually, like she feels the same, but where you can see her resistance up still. And you know you'll never win. You have to stop thinking you can.
"I'll drink my feelings away, and then we're gonna fuck to get it off my mind, and we're never gonna bring this up again." your voice cracks as you surrender to the defeat, seeking temporary escape. 
You pour the rose in both your glasses, and Paige stands back watching, knowing that this is exactly what's happening. She's suppressing her inner fear and has no choice but to acquiesce, and not say anything because she told you her rules at the beginning, and fears if she says anything, it'll be from her heart because it hurts her as much as it hurts you.
She's trapped in her own emotions, unable to express her true feelings, and resigned to silently follow the script you've both agreed upon.
"Cheers," you say, raising your glass, and she looks confused, but reluctantly clinks your glasses together and watches through a slow sip as you down it and then pour yourself some more. The alcohol burns your throat, but you welcome the numbness, trying to dull the ache in your chest.
Paige's gaze lingers, melancholy, but more neutral, as she silently acknowledges the change in you, trying to read to lightheartedly conversate. 
"I see Maggie's introduced you to the lifestyle. You guys still getting close?'' her voice is subtly clad with a hint of detachment, an attempt to shift the focus away from the tension between you, and onto a more casual topic, but her underlying concern and curiosity are both still evident.
You nod, your eyes focalled on the alchol in your glass. "Yeah, she- we're thinking of doing a double date thing and I was gonna ask you before - y'know, but I guess it's pointless even though she already kinda knows."
You mention the fact - y'know - that you guys just suffered a breakup without even being together in a very odd manner, and that that is the weirdest thing ever. Well, to Paige, the second strangest thing of the night - the third is that how you broached the subject courageously in the first place, and the first: "Maggie knows?" she repeats, "Did you tell her?" a slight accusatory tone to her voice, her eyes narrowing slightly as she sets her glass down, her gaze fixed intently on yours, as if searching for any sign of betrayal or deceit.
"Everything." you whisper, jokingly confessing and shaking your head at her ridiculous pissed face (that's also sorta hot). 
Paige glares back at you, serious and you furrow your brows, feeling the alcohol hitting you already. "Shit, what do they put in here?" you ask, checking the label for the alcohol volume, when Paige snatches it out of your reach and demands, "I'm serious, Y/N, what'd you-" 
"Nothing!" you interrupt, exploding, "Nothing, Paige, there is fucking nothing to tell Maggie because all of this," you notion back and forth between you two, face-to-face, "Is nothing! What would I tell her, huh? That you don't text me for days on end and shit like that?" Your words spill out in a frenzy, the alcohol fueling your emotional release in the opposite sense you wanted it to.
Paige hates how that's supposed to comfort her, but instead makes her feel belittled and trivialized as she processes, now reaching for her own glass to forget about what you just told her - that you guys are "nothing." The word stings, a harsh reminder of the boundaries she's set, and the apparent insignificance of their connection in your eyes. She takes a swig, the rose souring her throat, as she struggles to reconcile the conflicting emotions within her.
Pretty soon, because you guys are weird and perfect for each-other, you're in bed and dealing with your conflicting emotions in a thoroughly unproductive way.
Paige kisses down your neck, hands roaming over you with a fervor in her eyes like she had the day at the bar, but now, times ten, and mixed in with something new. As she's stripping off your pants and kissing down your legs, she's still doing that thing where she murmurs vague stuff she knows she can deny if you try to confront her later. "So pretty, baby," she whispers, spreading your legs apart and kissing your calf, "My pretty baby." If not for the desire you have to get fucked out of your own brain, you would probably tell Paige to stop entirely or just stop saying that, but you can't, especially because it at least feels good to pretend that all just didn't happen.
By now, you've had plenty of rose, a lot more than Paige has, and under the spell of alcohol, every sensation she evokes in you feels better than the last. The room spins, and your senses blur, but Paige's touch is the one thing that feels lucid, the one thing that makes sense in this haze of emotions and alcohol.
Before Paige can put her mouth to use on you, the bedroom door is bursted open, and the once muffled call of her name that you're too tipsy to register becomes audible. "Paige! Bro, practice is cancelled, let's go-" she suddenly crashes in, who you can only assume is Serena, and walks in on the compromising sight and exclaims, "Oh shit!" standing there in awe as Paige scrambles for your clothes to cover yourself, furious, "Get out!"
She storms, jumps out of bed and slams the door in her face. The sudden movement makes your head spin, and you wince, the loudness reeling in your head from the alcohol and the abrupt interruption.
When Paige sees you lying still, eyes shut in what looks like anguish, she rushes over to you, apologetic. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, she's- she's obviously not supposed to be here as you just heard and-" - "It's fine." you interrupt, gathering your clothes hastily and getting out of bed. Once again, Paige has let you down, and it annoys the both of you equally. "Call me," you say, your tone indifferent, "Or don't."
You go to open the door and rush away before Paige can stop you, but Serena awaits on the other side, and you pause, dissecting her.
You were going to be jealous over this girl until you realize she's like Paige, just a little less tall, a lot less blonde, and skinnier. She isn't her type and she's masculine too, to your delight, and not because of Paige and her not being compatible, but at the fact its your type.
"Sorry," she says cheekily, "I thought she was here to take a break from the team." 
Serena smirks, amused. "I mean, I guess she was." and her eyes linger at the hickey on your neck. The implication is clear, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks as you try to brush it off, the alcohol still clouding your judgment.
"Y/N," you laugh, smiling, "I'm sorry, I- I drank all your rose tonight, and you just saw me kind of naked, so probably not a great way to start things off." you chuckle, trying to play off the awkwardness,  and she smiles, exposing pearly whites, and seeming to appreciate your honesty and humor.
"Oh trust me, I couldn't mind less." and you can't figure out which way she means it before she continues again, "But... if you had too much rose, I don't just wanna send you driving home with a stranger. And better yet,  by yourself. You're welcome to stay the night if you want to." her tone is genuine, and you hesitate for a moment, weighing your options, before nodding in agreement, grateful for her kindness.
Paige is forced to watch her Serena clearly court you over the night, dressing you in her oversized t-shirt and shorts, and giving you some cold water as you guys converse on the couch in the living room. She does need time to herself after the alcohol begins to wear off and she begins to think about the consequences of her actions, the weight of her emotions, and the reality of her situation with you, but she can't do that logically while hearing you giggle and laugh at everything Serena says.
When she emerges from the bedroom, realizing she can get a rise out of Serena too, you both glance at her like she's intruding once she plops down at the couch in the living room.  Serena laughs. "Yo, are you- you staying here tonight?" she asks, her tone playful, but also hinting at a sense of not wanting Paige too, as if she's making her rethink her choice, and maybe even staking a claim on you, much to Paige's dismay.
"Well, yeah, that's the plan for the week, S," she says, eyes darting between you two, "Unless you guys want the house all to yourselves." Paige's tone is laced with a hint of sarcasm and a dash of curiosity, as if she's testing the waters, gauging the dynamics between you and Serena, and perhaps even hoping to stir up a reaction from one or both of you.
"Maybe we do," you say, leaning back on your couch, and Serena smirks, Paige rolling her eyes. 
"Well, yeah, we're learning lots about each-other. She's a huge soccer fan, and I'm a soccer player." 
Paige scoffs, shaking her head and laughing, "You hate sports. You're a nerd, what do you mean you're a-" - "I am." you interject, "You just don't care enough to know that." you shoot back, Paige's expression a mix of amusement and disbelief, as if she can't fathom you pretending to be something you're not.
Serena glances at between you both, intrigued, and curious. "So, uhh...before I ask what I do, what are you guys?" she asks as if she's navigating a sensitive topic, and her eyes dart between you and Paige, seeking clarification on your relationship status.
"It's complicated," and "Nothing," you both say in simultaneously, and when Paige's eyes narrow and she falls silent, you learn that the word "nothing" triggers her. The air is thick with tension, and Serena's eyes widen, sensing the underlying dynamics at play.
"Nothing?" she raises an eyebrow at Paige. She pauses. "Uhh... well on that case, why don't all three of us go get dinner tomorrow? Paige can bring somebody!" she suggests, hoping by the proposal, it will soften the blow of tension. 
"And... And so can you, even though I'd prefer if you don't." You smile warmly at her attempt to flirt, and also, keep things equal. "What about my friend Maggie Bowman? She's practically my sister, I think you'll love her. She plays soccer too." You offer, trying to lighten the mood and include Maggie, finally, in your real life.
Paige realizes thats how you must've been able to keep up a sports conversation for so long. "Maggie? I mean, c'mon, I-" "I'd love that!" Serena exclaims, "Who're you bringin' Paige? Maybe another hot model girl?" she teases, referencing you, who does that stupid giggle again and it takes Paige all her might not to lash out as she calmly responds, "I don't know, Azzi maybe." 
Serena nods. "That'd work." and Paige grimaces at the fact she'd try for her best-friend too.
The rest of the night is a blur and you come down from the alcohol, all eventually falling asleep on the couches, yet you awaken in bed, next to Paige, like you had become used to as of a week ago. The familiarity of her presence, the scent of her skin, and the warmth of her body engulfing yours stir up a mix of emotions, from comfort to guilt, as you try to process the events of the previous night and the current state of your relationship.
Your body may crave the comfort of her closeness, but your mind knows that giving in to these desires will only lead to more heartache and confusion in the end, so you nudge her. "Off, Paige." you whisper, your voice gentle but firm, trying to extricate yourself from her embrace without hurting her feelings, and subsequently yours.
"Hmm?" she murmurs from sleep, groggily, "No, stay," she slurs, her voice laced with a hint of desperation, as she tightens her hold on you. She has a bad sleeptalking habit, one that you've struggled with in the past to understand if she's just stupid and asleep or genuine.
It's both. And it also seems like old patterns are dying hard. You force yourself up, you exit her arms, and book an Uber back to your house, where Maggie is waiting at the doorstep with coffee. "Where were you all night? Gosh, I was worried sick, I called everybody you knew. Fuck, your friends are dicks." She scolds, her expression a mix of relief and annoyance, as she hands you a steaming cup of coffee, her eyes narrowing slightly as she takes in your disheveled appearance.
"Serena's house," you reply, "This friend of mine. She's in for the week while her Soccer team plays Connecticut." 
Maggie's eyes widen. "What? Like The Minnesota Stars playing Connecticut this week? As in the Serena Davis?" She asks, her voice laced with excitement and disbelief, as if she can't quite wrap her head around the fact that you spent the night at the hotel of a famous soccer player.
"I think," you smile, glancing down at your clothes, "I didn't catch her last name, but these are all hers. She's sweet." Maggie's jaw drops, her eyes bulging in utter shock, before she lets out a squeal of excitement, jumping up and down like a teenager at a rock concert. "OH. MY. GOD! You're a groupie! You're a total groupie!" she accuses, laughing and teasing, her hands on her hips. You nod, playing along, "Would this groupie still be one if she was inviting you to dinner with Serena? And Paige Bueckers? And maybe Azzi Fudd?" You ask, grinning mischievously, as Maggie continues to freak out, still in disbelief.
Up until 8:00, the confirmed meetup time, is when Maggie energizes.
She talks endlessly about how you're basically living a double life, how you're "rubbing shoulders with soccer royalty", and asks you what it's like to be with Serena, her questions ranging from serious to absurd. On the drive to the restaurant, you have to lecture Maggie on proper etiquette, reminding her to behave herself, not to fan-girl too hard, and to please, for the love of all things good, not ask Serena for a jersey or autograph.
"Just be chill," you advise, shaking your head in amusement as you walk into the restaurant together. You can feel Maggie's excitement radiating like a force, and you know she's struggling to contain her inner fan-girl. You shoot her a warning glance, silently reminding her to play it cool, as you spot Serena, Paige, and Azzi waiting for you at a table, Serena looking radiant and entirely too comfortable in her celebrity skin.
You underestimate just how famous the girls are, especially Serena, but when even your waiter is a little starstruck to see the three of them, telling them each she's seen them in sports, you realize that you're dining with genuine sports royalty.
You each spend the dinner laughing. Maggie and Azzi talk for some time, both self-proclaimed party-girls with mutual friends, and Paige, you, and Serena—mainly Paige and Serena—do their own thing up until you guys have finished eating and chatting, at which point Serena pays the bill with a flourish, her celebrity status evident in the discreet yet deferential service you received all evening. As you prepare to leave, the waiter lingers, still starstruck, and Serena, Paige, and Azzi graciously autograph a napkin for her before you exit.
The night ends with Maggie inviting you all to a party that you and Paige decline, however, Serena opts to go. "Might as well make the most of it while I'm in town." she says with a grin, "But... if you wanna stay at the hotel, Y/N, we'll all see you guys tonight." She winks, eyes sparkling as she ganders at you hungrily.
Azzi, the only person besides you and Paige who knows your history, a member of the "Paige needs to stay focused" club, and also her best-friend knows exactly what'll happen if you guys are left alone together, and once you say, "I think I will, S," Azzi is quick to interject, "Sure you BOTH don't wanna join us? I mean, Y/N, I remember the first time I met you. At a party." she teases you playfully, coaxing a smile out of you.
"And you remember how I embarrassed myself, Azzi?" you ask, laughing. "How could I forget?" the girl chuckles, "I wanna hear this story tonight," Maggie chimes in, and Serena agrees, "Me too." before Azzi just sighs, knowing there's nothing further she can do, and relents with a playful warning. "Just don't get too distracted, you two. We'll see you tonight."
You don't think you'll get distracted as they disappear into the distance, waiting for their Uber, and you and Paige head towards your car, walking down the street together in silence. The only sounds are the crickets chirping and the occasional passing car, but the air is thick with an underlying tension between you and Paige until you speak up.
"Can you drive? I'm too tired, I wanna take a nap." you ask Paige, tossing her your keys. She catches the keys with a hesitant smile, her eyes searching yours for a moment before she nods. "You done being mad at me?" she asks, her voice soft, playful, and a little vulnerable, like she's feeling her way through the moment, trying to gauge if the chill between you has started to return.
"I was never mad at you," you say with a shrug, avoiding her eyes and sounding utterly nonchalant. "I was mad at myself." Your tone is detached, like you're dismissing the whole thing, and your gaze drifts away from hers, leaving a sense of distance between you.
She decides not to go there with you. "So, Maggie's actually chill," she says, changing the subject, her tone light and conversational. "It's kinda weird it's all falling into place now even though we're not, y'know, 'friends' anymore." her words hang in the air, not probing or accusing, just stating a fact.
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "What do you mean?"
She shrugs, continuing, "Well, Azzi just accepted the fact I'm staying at a hotel with you, which means they all will because she's my best friend. I like Maggie. You like Azzi. And the net is catching on."
You chuckle, amused, and she smiles, playfully teasing. You can't help but think that if you two were still close, she wouldn't be so nonchalant about this situation. It's as if she's only comfortable with this all coming to you both at once because you're no longer under her control.
The thought crosses your mind that sometimes, it takes losing something to realize its value, and you wonder if she's come to appreciate you only now that you're no longer there. You have to remind her you aren't, because with the way her eyes scan your body, your dress, her favorite color on you, black, accentuating your shape perfectly before she licks her lips, adjusting her gray Nike tech, its obvious.
"I do have to say, I like Serena. How come you never mentioned this 'friend' of yours was hot and also really talented?" you laugh, a low throaty sound, and raise a waggling eyebrow that makes Paige herself chuckle smally.
With her laughter, her inability to go there with you ever, you don't expect it at all when she looks you straight in the eye, and boldly smiles, "No you don't. You like me? Remember? Back at your parents' at the park?" there's a dash of challenge to her tone, as if daring you to admit the truth, her eyes sparkling with a knowing glint that makes your heart race.
And just like that, you fall back in.
You slip up in your words. "The car's here, Paige," but you swallow the last part, jumbling it into, "C'mere Paige," instead of repeating what you had actually meant to say. Your voice is struck with want, your brain foggy with the familiar haze of passion, as you pull her closer, your hands roaming over her body like they used to, like no time has passed at all.
Within seconds, you're inside of your car, making out with Paige as her big hands grasp your hips, and you can't at all believe yourself one bit — that you're doing it again — that Azzi was right — and letting her fuck her way back into your life again, but you did have unfinished business.
And plus, now, with it all out of the way — you didn't mind just being casual, your resistance crumbling like dust as her lips devour yours, the familiar spark between you, consuming all rational thought.
"Fuck, I-... I never wanna see you like that again, do you hear me?" she growls again, staring intensely with her hand gripping your tits, spilling out the top of your dress. "Never," she repeats firmly and pulls you back in roughly by your ass, making you yelp into her mouth as she kisses you fiercely, tongue claiming yours.
Luckily for you guys, the deserted streets are quiet and your windows have a tint. It would be a shame for anybody to witness how Paige pulls you over her lap in the driver's seat, pulling your dress down and popping your tit into her mouth, sucking on you with hungry groans, tongue flicking against your nipple as she murmurs, "You like that?"
It's obvious in the way your body responds to hers, hips bucking against her thigh, and how you moan, "Y-Yes, shit." She holds your hips firmly, guiding you back and forth sensually, and due to how wet you are, she can feel you soak her knee through her sweatpants. She softly whispers into your ear, "No panties, huh? Of course, such a slut," and she grabs your hair, forcing your head to tilt back as she suckles on your neck. "Let me show Serena who you belong to."
Those times you knew Paige would flat out ignore you or deny it when you brought up her possessiveness and control during sex, were far behind you because you knew she couldn't now, and it was clear she didn't want to, and it was the hottest thing ever.
Her passion and intensity were undeniable, and you were swept up in the fervor of the moment, loving every second of her unbridled desire.
Once she's done doing that, you can't take it. "Wait, I-.. home Paige home, it's too tight in here." Your voice is laced with desperation, pleading with her to stop or to slow down, but your words are overtaken by her intense kisses, your body betraying your mind as you succumb to her fervent touch, the confines of the car suffocating you.
You don't know how you guys even manage getting home: the want is that much. You have so much need in your body that you do the most reckless thing ever known to mankind. As Paige slams on the accelerator, you spread your legs and slip your fingers down between your thighs, rubbing on your clit, in your wetness that makes the lewdest sounds ever, second to when you moan her name breathlessly. "Paigeee, fuck…! Wish this was you, P, mmph, gosh."
She tries not to glance and she tries not to react, but when you extend your arm and put your hand right across her lap, fucking your own fingers into you with wet noises and desperate whimpers before you give her a taste of it, it's like she's possessed.
You're rushing through the hotel to get back to the room, and in the elevator, more kissing continues, but at the door, you guys tap in and are making out furiously, for what feels like hours, hotly, both stepping out of your clothes in the corridor.
Your hands are all over each other once you crash in, rekindling the passion that never quite faded as you stumble into the room, locked in a embrace that's hard to break.
You unzip Paige's sweater and remove her Nike tech pants and are upset to find the truth about layering being true now of all times -- underneath, she has a black sports bra and blue basketball shorts.
You drop to your knees, sliding them down her legs, and your mouth is on her cunt in a flash. She's insanely wet—probably the wettest you've ever had her before in all your years of fucking.
"Do I have to be standing for this?" she asks through gritted teeth, and you realize that she's complimenting your head game like that, and smile, smirking as you look up at her and delving into her pussy with a strong flick of your tongue against her clit a couple of times, moaning hungrily.
The teasing gets her weak, her knees buckling.
Your words, your touch, your gaze—all of it has her surrendering, her defenses disappearing as she gives in to the tension that's been building between you two.
It's been ages since you've gotten to do this—melt Paige on your tongue, and she tastes like heaven, and sounds like it too. When you focus on her clit, parting her folds with your fingers to angle your tongue and flick at it, she whimpers.
Your touch is so, so perfect it doesn't even feel real, and though none of it does, Paige can't help but savor the moment. She gazes down at your face, looking deep into your eyes as she grinds her hips against you, in a frenzy riding your face as she moans loudly.
"Fuck, you're so good," she groans, pulling you back up by your hair and onto your feet, eyes blazing. "Tell me you wouldn't do this for Serena. For any other girl," she demands, tugging your hair in a way that turns you on intensely as you murmur, "Just you. Always only you." And she's relentless, spitting into your mouth, her saliva thick and warm, before she pushes your face back into her cunt, making everything a wet mess through the singular action.
You pull back and marvel at her pink folds. "So beautiful," you whisper against her cunt, entranced with desire and by the way her pussy glistens and gleams, sparkles, and you suckle her clit like a connoisseur.
The signs she's going to climax emerge: her eyes shut tightly, her abs contract repeatedly, and her face turns red and redder by the moment as you work your jaw faster, slipping your finger up into her entrance, but she stops you with a yank of your head backwards.
"Seriously, I'll fall over if we—c'mon, let's go to the bed." she pants.
This time, Paige remembers to lock the door behind her before she slips in between your legs, dangling her chain enticingly in your face. "Still wet?" she softly and earnestly inquires, and you chuckle at her ridiculous charm. "Yeah, of course."
She kisses you deeply, hands roaming eagerly. "Lemme check," she whispers, and then she slides up your dress, exhaling in awe at the sight because you're genuinely dripping.
"So fuckin' perfect, fuck," her warm breath against your stomach gives you chills, and you twitch slightly in her embrace, prompting her hand to fly to your hipbone, anchoring you with a desperate gaze, afraid you might slip away. "N-no," she stammers, her voice trembling, "No, just... just stay like this, just like this."  With lustfully hazy eyes, she closes them as she nuzzles her nose against your clit, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. "Ah, Paige-!" you yelp, and she's quick to hush you.
"Shhh, angel, please," she whispers, her eyes meeting yours fleetingly. "Please," she repeats, more firmly this time, before her tongue teases at your clit carefully - like she just wants a small taste.
The shamelessness in her begging — begging for you to be complicit with her, coupled with her mouth, it all makes your head spin.
When you nod, silently giving into her, you watch as she indulges in you, moaning at the faint taste of you on her tongue before she withdraws. "You taste amazing," she mumbles, "Just for me."
Your eyebrows furrow at her words, arousing you further, soaking you thoroughly and making you squirm once more, much to her dismay. "Stay still," she instructs firmly, pausing. "Stay still or you won't get anything out of this… I could do this all night, I promise you."
It took you back to when you first met Paige and she told you the exact same thing. You didn't believe her at first, and then she ended up not letting you cum for half an hour, her fingers inside you changing with every stroke, LITERALLY keeping you on edge.
Your hands laced into her hair, and you tugged lightly. "'s what you get, you bitch… so fuckin' mean to me," you teased, knowing exactly how to get her where you needed her, just like she'd gotten you to where she needed you for what you were about to do. "Serena'd be fucking me good by now. She almost did last night before you came out on the couch."
That was true. You weren't just saying it, and you both knew it. That was true.
"Is that so?"
In moments, you were now both naked, her hands gripping your ass and tits eagerly. Her kisses were urgent and messy as she undressed you, her lips assaulting your neck with hungry fervor. "I'm going to fuck that out of you," she declared, her voice filled with need, her breath heating your skin. "I can't get enough of you."
"Do it."
Paige complied, her hands gently kneading your breasts as she positioned herself between your legs. You gasped softly as she settled against you, the heat of her body melding with yours as she aligned your cunts precisely. The room seemed to fade away as you focused on the exquisite friction between you, the heat intensifying as Paige hooked her leg around your thigh in a sense, drawing you closer with each movement. Her voice was a whisper against your calf, filled with need as she questioned, "Feel my clit, baby? Feel how wet I am for you?"
You whine, overwhelmed. "You're so wet, P, fuck." She had your leg bent back towards your head, her slick heat gliding against yours as she moved forward, inhaling sharply at the exquisite friction between you.
She smirked down at you. "Fuck, you're my slut, baby," she moaned, pupils dilated as she arched her back, pressing her body closer to yours.
With each powerful thrust of her hips, you could see the subtle flexing and rippling of muscles beneath her skin, a testament to her arousal. Her voice was heavy with desire as she lifted your leg higher, craving deeper access. "Fuck me back, baby, come on. Just like that." the last part a near whine as you appeased, meeting her every grind with a fervent thrust of your hips.
"God, you're so wet," she whimpered, biting onto her bottom lip to stifle her moans, "Fucking dripping, aw.. shittt." in the break, she's panting, breathing fast breaths into your ear, and then it falls silent.
The sound that fills the air between you two once it does was raw— carnal. It had grown louder as you complied, truly fucking her back, your clits sliding against each other frenziedly, eliciting a wet sound that mingled with the rhythmic clapping of your skin. Unable to stifle it, a sigh of satisfaction escaped you, breaking the silence. "So deep, Paige," you grunted softly, reaching up to fondle her firm tits, her eyes fluttering shut as she quickened her pace, urging you to keep up.
"Don't… do not fucking stop," your voice cracked with pleasure, urgent and needy without care. "Then fuckin', ohh," testing her resolve, you pinch her nipples mid-sentence, and they perk up, practically begging to be sucked. Her voice trembles so invitingly that your mouth waters.
"Then fuckin' keep up with me, ma. You can do it, angel," she encouraged, brushing your hair from your face just to look you with her glossy from determination, and then she's crying out, "Fuckk, yes!" as her hips buck against yours snugly. You're just about to ask what has her so riled up when you feel it— her nails digging into your skin at the sensation of your clit, rubbing hard against hers and pulsating, driving her insane and making her lose control. It makes you shake with pleasure. It was all just perfect — Paige never fucked you like this often just because in her own words, she didn't like sounding like a bitch.
Moaning like a girl. And... she always warned that she couldn't hold back when it came to your pussy. She'd always lose control if she took you like this, and she knew you secretly liked it when she did.
It was hot watching her internally battle the side of herself that wanted to hold the power and the side that wanted to fuck you stupid and give you all her cum.
Nevertheless, she's spilling more arousal from her hole into the mix, and the glide just gets smoother and smoother, like water on water.
You push your hips up harder, grunting with each forceful thrust, and Paige sounds like she's exerting herself at the gym, groaning gruffly as she fucks you relentlessly, babbling about how badly she wants you to cum in her.
"You do? You want it?" you tease, and she's quick to nod her head vigorously, hair flying free from its bun as she moves. "Mhm," spitting down between you both and pleading, "I want your cum so badly, baby, please give it to me, please let me have it, please make me- make me cum, shit you're gonna-"
Her eyes squeezed shut and she moaned deeply, hips bucking, signaling her impending climax. "Look at me," you urged, "Look at me, Paige, I want to cum, I want to give it to you, look at me."
When she forces her eyes open, glistening with tears, she freezes on the spot at the sight of your tits bouncing and clapping together rhythmically, the way you bite your bottom lip, and how desperate you sound once you climax at the exact same time as her, calling out her name hoarsely. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, Paige, oh—! Oh fuckkk, yes!"
She's whining and crying out listlessly as she collapses over your body, muscles contracting as she spills onto you, and with each slow movement, her cunt feels like glue against yours, so much so that you tremble.
Your skin sticks to each other, a mixture of sweat and arousal making it feel almost impossible to separate, and before you can offer to clean her up again like you so desperately want to — to finish what you started earlier and have her cum on your tongue, a firm knock is heard on your door.
"Guys?!" shouts Maggie, "What the fuck are you doing in there?"
Paige is so thoroughly fucked out that she can't move or speak or react, even though her worst fear has come true, and Maggie knows.
You shake your body, responding cautiously, and inadvertly shaking Paige in the process. "Peanut Butter?" you say. "Yeah?" she manages timidly and you press your hands on her waist, moving her gently, only for her to shudder at the sole movement. 
You chuckle at her sensitivity and general posterior as you disclose, "Secret's out," with a humorous whisper.
And to your collective surprise, realizing Serena is back too, she responds resolutely.
"Good."
MASTERLIST
AUTHOR NOTE #2: i think you just witnessed the fact i can’t write angst — or maybe it’s just the creative slumping idk man show all your fav writers some love it’s rly tough out here lol! as always i am now gonna beg for you to interact with me because ily all sm - ana. ALSO TY FOR NEARLY 900 FOLLOWERS WTF!! love u all my cutiemooties, followers, anons 🤍
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